LIBRARY OF PRINCETON 
 
 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 BX5207.D7 M6 1830 
 Doddridge, Philip, 1702-1751. 
 Miscellaneous works of Philip 
 Doddridge : with an introduct 
 
 ORY 
 

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 the Internet Archive 
 
 
 
 
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 https://archive.org/details/miscellaneousworOOdodd_0 
 
THE WORKS 
 
 or THE 
 
 REV. PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D. D. 
 
THE 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS WORKS 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D. D. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, 
 BY THE REV. T. MORELL, 
 
 OF WYMONDLEY COLLEGE. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 JOSEPH OGLE ROBINSON, 42, POULTRY. 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY J. U. AND C. CHILDS. 
 
 MDCCCXXX. 
 
i 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 The name of Doddridge must ever be dear to all who cherish a cordial attachment to 
 practical Christianity. His character and writings may be depreciated by the zealot, who 
 can only breathe jn the turbid element of theological controversy ; or by the scctainst, who 
 cannot look beyond the pale of his own narro\v enclosure : but assuredly they will long con- 
 tinue to be revered and honoured by all who prefer Scriptiu-al truth to human systems, and 
 in whom fervent piety is combined with the benignant spirit of the gospel. Though attached, 
 both by education and jirinciple, to one denomination of Christians above the rest, this 
 distinguished philanthropist may be regarded as the property of the universal church, on 
 every portion of which he has conferred incalculable benefits. To estimate coiTcctly the 
 nature and full extent of those benefits, it is requisite not merely to view attentively his indi- 
 vidual character, and the varied productions of his pious and enlightened mind, but these 
 must be contemplated in connexion with the moral and religious aspect of the times in 
 which he lived, the then state of our British churches, and the influence exerted by his life 
 and writings, (in conjunction with other causes,) both on his contemporaries and successors 
 — an influence, which perhaps was never greater or more appaient than in the present day. 
 This will be attempted briefly in the present Essay, and the writer hopes that such a sketch, 
 however imperfectly executed, will not be deemed an unappropriate introduction to the new 
 edition of his works, now presented to the public. 
 
 Whatever opinion may be formed of the political events of the seventeenth centmy, it will 
 be admitted on all hands that it constitutes a memorable era in the religious history of our 
 country. During the greater part of that period, there lived, and laboured, and suffered for 
 conscience' sake, an illustrious band, " of whom the world was not worthy men whose genius 
 had caught its noblest inspiration from intimate converse with the Deity ; who drank copi- 
 ously and constantly from the hallowed fount of divine revelation ; and who devoted ener- 
 gies of no ordinary kind to the instniction and edification of tlie church of Christ. These 
 I mighty champions of the Christian faith pursued their high career with imwearied dili- 
 gence and unconquerable zeal, amidst tumultuous scenes of political contention, and in 
 defiance of the lawless terrors of arbitrary power. Undismayed, and even invigorated, 
 by long-continued sufferings, they still pressed forward to new and nobler achieve- 
 ments; apparently gathering strength from the opposition tliey encountered, and the 
 imvations they endured. The talents of these modern confessors were vaiious, as had been 
 
 A 
 
ii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. | 
 
 the circumstances of their bulh and education. Some were chaiacterized by original and 
 inventive genius, others by the clcaraess and comprehension of their reasoning powers ; 
 some by profound research into tlic import of the sacred oracles, and others by a genuine 
 pathos, a holy fervour of spirit, which have seldom been equalled, and perhaps n^ver excelled. 
 But divcrsiliod as were their intellectual endowments and literary attainments, o^e spirit seems 
 to have animated tliem all. They were inflexible in their adherence to -the great 
 principles of evangelical truth, undaunted in their defence, and, above all, most solicitous to 
 bring them to bear upcm the consciences and hearts of men. That such was the character of 
 their official instructions, and such the design and tendency of their invaluable writings, is 
 sufficiently evident fi'om the substiintial memorials of their piety and talents, with which our 
 libraries arc enriched. If those ponderous volumes are not decorated with all the graces of 
 composition which modern refinement may demand, they are confessedly replete with sound 
 learning, scriptural knowledge, and gcnmne Christian eloquence ; qualities wliich infinitely 
 outweigh mere rhetorical ornaments, and more than compensate for an occasional quaintness 
 of thought and exjiression. 
 
 The moral influence of the labours of these gi-eat and holy men was manifest at the time 
 in which they flourished, in no inconsiderable degree. A vigorous stand was made, by the 
 tndy pious of that age, against the unparalleled profligacy and licentiousness which then 
 prevailed amongst all classes of society. Not a few persons of elevated rank and noble birth 
 were then numbered \v\ih the humble and devoted followers of Christ ; men of science and 
 erudition the most profound, were not ashamed of the doctrine of the cross; a leaven of 
 fervent and active piety was widely, though secretly, diffused through the great mass of 
 society ; numerous and flourishing churches were gathered, and overspread the face of the 
 land, many of which, though planted amidst the storms of persecution, and afterwards sub- 
 jected to the yet more withering influence of worldly prosperity, still continue to flourish, 
 and are at once the ornament axid bulwarks of our land. 
 
 But scarcely had the latest of this illustrious band of Christian advocates, who had so nobly 
 maintained the fight against iiTcligion, intolerance, and infidelity, ceased from their laboiu^ 
 and entered into rest, when a melancholy reaction took place, into the nature and causes of 
 which it is requisite to institute a brief inquiry. The outward condition of the church was 
 tranquil, and, to a mere cursory observer, might even seem prosperous. Liberty of con- 
 science, imder the name of religious toleration, was conceded to the various denominations of 
 Protestant Dissenters, though under restrictions, which neither sound policy nor impartial 
 justice could approve. Some liberal and enlightened churchmen, among whom were 
 included several chstinguished members of the hierarchy, were prompted, by a spirit of 
 liberality and forbearance that did them the highest credit, to attempt the removal of the 
 causes of separation, by a measm-e of general comprehension : on the other hand, some in- 
 fluential members of the dissenting body manifested a disposition to meet the wishes and 
 second the exertions of their brethren of the Established Church, by at least equal concessions 
 on their part. A hope began to be cherished by the moderate and liberal of both parties, 
 that the period was not far distant, in which fonner divisions would be efiectually healed, 
 and unity and peace restored to the Protestant Cluuxh. 
 
 Yet amidst these circumstances of external prosperity, it soon became but too evident, that 
 the glory had departed from oiu- British churches, and that instead of the spiritual ^ igom- by 
 ■\\ hich they were formerly characterized, a moral decay preyed upon their vitals. The tndy 
 pious, both within gud without the pale of the national church, could not but perceive that 
 the internal symptoms were most alarming. Religious apathy and indifference, under the 
 specious names of liberality and candour, pervaded and paralyzed the far greater portion of the 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 iii 
 
 community. A cold system of ethics, scarcely superior to the morality of the pagan world, 
 superseded the faithful and energetic preaching of former times. A spirit of daring specula- 
 tion, betrayed many into pernicious errors, or disposed them to imiversal scepticism. The 
 " watchmen on the walls of Zion," instead of sounding an alarm at this perilous crisis, for 
 the most part, either slumbered at their posts, or basely deserted them ; and even where the 
 trumpet of alarm was heard, it gave but an uncertain sound. The congregations which had 
 been accustomed to listen, with devout attention, to the evangelical doctrine and truly Chris- 
 tian eloquence of their late pastors, were now either scattered and broken up, as sheep having 
 no shepherd ; or they also, being infected with the moral contagion of the time, yielded to the 
 dame spiritual torpor and deadly lethargy of soul. While this cold and heartless semblance of 
 Christianity was substituted, by the gi-eat majority of its professors, for % ital and spiritual re- 
 ligion, there were others, who, justly apprehensive of danger fi'om the latitudinarian spirit 
 which then prevailed, rushed to the contrary extreme, which proved in its results scarcely 
 less injurious. They cherished and diffused aroimd them a controversial spirit ; they con- 
 tended with equal zeal and bitterness for the circumstantials, as for the essentials, of the 
 Christian faith; for dogmas of human invention, and the distinguishing peculiarities of human 
 systems, as for the gi'cat principles of revealed truth. The war of words was fiercely carried 
 on, both in the pulpit and from the press ; whilst, in the mean time, the spirit of Cluistianity, 
 which is that of meekness and love, deserted the combatants on either side. 
 
 That this is no overcharged representation of the state of religion in our countrs^ at the com- 
 mencement of the eighteenth centuiy, might be proved by a mass of incontrovertible evidences. 
 Two or three credible witnesses will suffice, who are not only appealed to in confirmation of the 
 preceding statements, but because they address a solemn warning to future ages, and may 
 serve to illustrate the remarks to be made hereafter, on the life and wTitings of Doddridge. 
 
 The venerable Burnet, in the preface to his excellent treatise on " The Pastoral Care;" 
 thus bitterly laments the decay of vital religion, in that church of which he was a dis- 
 tinguished ornament. " I cannot look on," says he, " without the deepest concern, when I 
 see imminent ruin hanging over this church, and by consequence over the whole reformation. 
 The outward state of things is black enough, God knows ; but that which heightens my fears, 
 rises chiefly from the inward state into which we arc unhappily fallen." — Then, after alluding 
 to the gross ignorance of those who applied for ordination, and the want of piety and Scrip- 
 tural knowledge in those who had already entered upon the sacred oflice, he adds, " these 
 things pierce one's soul, and make me often cry out, ' O that I had wings like a dove, for then 
 would I fly away and be at rest.' What are we like to grow to ? In what a case are we to 
 deal with any adversary, atheist, papist, or dissenters, or in any sort to promote the honour 
 of God, and caiTy on the great concerns of the gospel, when so gi'oss an ignorance in the 
 fundamentals of religion has spread itself among those who ought to teach others, and yet 
 need that one teach them the first principles of the oracles of God."* Tn yet more pathetic 
 language, does the seraphic Leighton, in various parts of his invaluable writings, bewail the 
 acrimony, the disimion, the secularity, the apathy, the declension and apostasy, of many both 
 of the clergy and laity, holding communion with the episcopal churches of England and 
 Scotland. 
 
 Nor was the condition of the Dissenting Churches at that period much better, as is evident 
 from several tracts, written by distinguished members of that body, in which the fact of a 
 lamentable dqcay of religion is assumed, and the causes of that general declension are inves- 
 tigated. Within a short period were published, among other treatises on this subject. 
 
 * Burnet's Pastoral Care, prt-f. p. ii, iv. See also the conclusion of the History of his Own Time, vol. vi. p. 178—190, 
 (Mford edit. 1823. 
 
 A 2 
 
,i? 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 " Walls's Humble Attempt towards the Revival of Practical Religion," — " Gough's Inquiry 
 into the Causes of llie Decay of the Dissenting Interest," — "Doddridge's Free Thoughts on 
 the most Probable Means of Reviving the Dissenting Interest," — and " Ncal's Free and Serious 
 Remonstrance to Protestant Dissenting IMinisters, on occasion of the Decay of Religi(m ;" — in 
 all of w hich coni])laints are made of the declining state of the congregations, and still more of 
 the decay of vital religion throughout the kingdom. — A yet more decisive proof of this melan- 
 choly fact, together with some important inibrmation respecting the causes to which these 
 evils were attributable, may be gathered incidentally from the private coiTCspondence and 
 diaries of some of these eminent men. As one illustraticm, out of many which might be se- 
 lected, the following extracts from letters adch-essed by a learned and eminently pious 
 Dissenting Minister,* resident in the Metroj)olis, and who possessed ample means of in- 
 formation, to Dr. Doddridge, in the year 1744, graphically describe the state of the Dissent- 
 ing Churches at that time. " The Dissenting Interest is not like itself. I hardly know it. 
 It used to be famous for faith, holiness, and love. I knew the time, when I had no doubt 
 into whatever place of worship 1 went among Dissenters, but tlifit my heart would be w armed 
 and comforted, and my edification promoted. Now I hear prayers and sermons which I 
 neither relish nor understand. Evangelical tmth and duty are quite old-fashioned things : 
 many pulpits ai'e not so much as chaste : one's ears are so dunned with ' reason,' ' the great 
 law of reason,' and the ' eternal law of reason,' that it is enough to put one out of conceit with 
 tlie chief excellency of our nature, because it is idolized, and even deified. How prone are 
 men to extremes ! What a pity it is, that when people emerge out of an ancient mistalic they 
 seldom know when to stop ! O ! for the purity of our fountains, the wisdom and diligence of 
 our tutors, the humility, piety, and teachableness of our youth," &c. &c. In another letter 
 the same miter adds, " the defection of our younger ministers I gi'eatly lament ; and if the 
 people departed from the doctrines of the refonnation, as much as the ministers, I should 
 begin to think whether ours were an interest worth serving." f 
 
 It is not asserted that the character of the entire body of Churchmen and Dissenters at the 
 period rcfeiTcd to, was such as is represented in the precetliug extracts. There were undoubtedly 
 many honom-able exceptions : there were not a few, who, like the exemplary prelates, Leighton 
 and Bumet, or like Watts and Doddridge, wept in secret places over the desolations of the 
 church of God, and laboured in season and out of season, to repair its ruins. But it is 
 abundantly evident, that such was the predominant character of the age, — such the moral 
 aspect of the times. 
 
 It is always desirable to trace effects to their causes, though the investigation, in moral as 
 in physical science, is frequently attended with great difficulty. The causes are sometimes 
 latent, so as scarcely to be discernible even to the most penetrating observer ; sometimes so 
 gradual and silent in their operation, that the effect is jiroduced unexpectedly ; sometimes so 
 various, that we feel ourselves at a loss to determine which have produced the phenomena in 
 question ; and sometimes so apparently inadequate, that it is scarcely possible to believe that 
 such efiects should result from such causes. These remarks will apply to the present subject. 
 A most remarkable and rapid transition seems to have taken place, from a high tone of piety, 
 to its lowest perceptible degi-ee ; from the prevalence, to the almost universal abandonment, of 
 evangelical truth ; from a flourishing and vigorous state of the church, to general sterility 
 and decay. How happened this ? To what cause, or rather, to what combination of causes, 
 are these lamentable efl'ects to be attributed ? This is not merely a curious speculation, but 
 an inquiry of great practical importance ; since from the operation of the same causes, should 
 
 * Rev. J. Barker. Vide Letters to and from Dr. Doddridge, edited by Rev. Tliomas Stedman, 1790. p. 96. 
 t Letters to and from Dr. Doddridge, p. 04. 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 V 
 
 they ever be permitted to exert their withering influence, the same melancholy catastrophe 
 may be anticipated. 
 
 This defection from the doctrine and practice of genuine Christianity, may be traced to the 
 combined influence of external and internal causes. The political events of that age were 
 most remarkable. A bloodless revolution had recently taken place, the consequences of which 
 were such as could not fail to attract and almost absorb public attention. One dynasty of 
 British princes had forfeited the crown, by arbiti'ary usui-pations, and the most determined 
 efforts to subvert the Protestant faith. Another had succeeded, under whose auspices civil 
 and religious liberty had revived, the breaches wliich had been made in the constitution by 
 the House of Stuart were repaired, and the political rights of the community secured by 
 new legislative enactments. But so great poUtical changes could not be effected without 
 much internal agitation. Two great parties were formed, one of which'adhered to the old 
 regime, and espoused the cause of the exiled family ; the other was zealously attached to the 
 new order of things, and the House of Orange. These party feelings and principles pro\ ed 
 injurious to the interests of religion. The children and descendants of those wlio bad suffered 
 persecution for conscience' sake, now began to pant after worldly honours and distinctions ; 
 they became secularized in their views and habits, till, amidst the strife of ambition, theii- re- 
 ligious principles were gradually undermined, and at length destroyed. There is assuredly 
 no reason why the patriot should be merged in the Cluristian, nor is an intense solicitude for 
 the welfare of our countiy incompatible with a high tone of fervent piety : but experience 
 and observation abimdantly prove, that in proportion as Christians degenerate into violent 
 political partisans, they become cold and negligent in their religious profession, if it be not 
 finally abandoned. The result will be precisely that which Bumet so pathetically lamented 
 in his day. " Politics and party," says he, " eat out among us not only study and learning, 
 but that which is the only thing that is more valuable, a ti-ue sense of religion ; with a sincere 
 zeal for advancing that for which the Son of God botli lived and died, and to which those 
 who are received into holy orders, have vowed to dedicate their lives and labours." Still 
 more pernicious was the influence of the literature of that age, if the temi may be so dese- 
 crated, as to apply it to the infamous productions which then disgiaced the public press. It 
 is unnecessary to advert particularly to the profligate character and licentious writings of 
 many of the celebrated wits and men of letters, who flomished towards the close of the seven- 
 teenth centmy ; suffice it to say, that while they may be admitted to have improved c.ur 
 language, and are monuments of the genius and talents of their authors, they sapped the 
 foundation of morals, and spread around them a deadly contagion, the effects of which ai-e 
 felt to the present day. In proportion as these works acquired a standard reputation, were 
 extensively circidated and generally admired, they exerted a most malignant influence on the 
 entire mass of society, but especially on the younger and more educated classes. To these 
 may be added, a third and no less pestilential agency, — the infidel writings of that day ; some 
 of which were decorated with all the graces of eloquence ; others were rendered fascinating 
 by the wit and ridicule with Avhich they assailed the Christian revelation; and others imposed 
 on the ignorant and unwary, by the show of learning and critical erudition, with which they 
 were invested. Not a few were induced by the perusal of those insidious wi'itings, if not openly 
 to embrace the cause of infidelity, yet to rest satisfied with a cold, speculative, semi-deistical 
 form of Christianity. 
 
 But there were other and perhaps still more pernicious agencies at work within the bosom ■ 
 of the Christian church. While persecution raged, the company of the faithful were compa- 
 ratively united, that they might combat more successfully the common foe. Agi-eeing, for 
 the most part, in the vital and essential truths of their holy religion, they consented to merge 
 
vi 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 their lesser (Ufferences, and exercise charity towards each otlicr. Bui when freed from the 
 gallinfj yoke of the o])prc'ssor, they beg;in to strive about terms of luiman invention, modes of 
 worsliip, and lonns of church diseiphne ; and on tliesc giounds alone, formed themselves into 
 numerous sects and parties, which could hold no fellowship with each otlier. These un- 
 happy divisions generated a controversial spirit, characterized by rancorous asperity', in pro- 
 l)ortion as the grounds of separation were trilling and unimportant. To " hold fast the form 
 of sound words which we have received" by inspiration from God, is unquestionably a Chris- 
 tian duty ; and to " contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints." But imlcss 
 religious controversies be caiTied on, whether from the pulpit or the press, in the spirit of 
 meekness and lo^■e, inider tlie hallowed influence of a truly Christian temper, it will be foimd 
 that their cflects are most injurious to the interests of vital and practical piety. The true 
 Christi;ui is uuinslructed and unechfled, the impenitent and ungodly remain still obdurate and 
 hardened ; and enw, instead of being checked or eradicated, makes rapid progress, by obtain- 
 ing more immerous ccmverts. Such was manifestly the result of those unhappy divisions, 
 and theological controversies, which disgraced the period to which the present Essay refers. 
 
 In coiniexion with the controversial spirit of the age, may be noticed, as an additicmal 
 cause of religious declension, the withdrawment of the attention of the ablest and most learned 
 Christian divines from the essentials of the gospel, to an elaborate vindication of its evi- 
 dences, in llieir controversy then carried on with deists and infidels. Grateful as is the recol- 
 lection, that the same age and country which produced a Shaftesbury and a Bolingbroke, two 
 of the subtlest and most formidable ojiponcnts of Christianity, produced also a Butler and a 
 Clarke, two of its mightiest and most successfid advocates; yet an attentive review of the 
 treatises written hy these champions of the Christian revelation, and still more of the nu- 
 merous treatises produced by minds of an inferior gi-ade, will sufficiently show the injurious 
 influence of the deistical controversy, even on the most learned and pious of that day. Ex- 
 clusively occupied with a refutation of the cavils and objections of infidels, they lost sight of 
 those gi'eat fundamental truths which constitute the glory of the Christian system ; and sub- 
 stituted a speculative foi'm of Christianity, little removed from infideUty itself, for the Scrip- 
 tural faith of their forefathers, or rather of the apostles and primitive believers : whilst labori- 
 ously and zealously defending the outworks, .the citadel was almost lost. 
 
 But the most fi-uitful som'ce of the various evils which have been alluded to, was the 
 degenerate character of the Cluistian ministry. Genuine piety. Scriptural knowledge, ardent 
 zeal, were no longer deemed essential to the sacred office, and were ridiculed as puritanical 
 and degrading. Multitudes pressed into the Christian ministry, who were utterly destitute of 
 all those quahties which can give efficiency and true dignity to that office. That such was 
 the character of the great mass of those who assumed the clerical office within the ])ale of the 
 national church, appears fi-om the passage already cited from " Burnet's Pastoral Care," to 
 which many other similar testimonies might be added. And that the same charge apiilies, 
 though perhaps in a less degiee, to the Dissenting ministry of that day, is no less evident from 
 the treatises enumerated above ; in most, if not all, of which, the lamented decay of religion is 
 attributed to the want of piety and zeal, in those who sustained the pastoral office. " The 
 uiquiry," says Neal, in his Free and Serious Remonstrance to Pi'otestant Dissenting Minis- 
 ters, " the iiujuiry 1 humbly beg leave to make is, whetljer the zeal and assiduity of ministers 
 in general, in qualifying themselves for, and in administering, the ordinances of divine worship, 
 are not considerably abated, as well as the people's piety and regularity in attending them ? 
 Whether there is not a lukewarmncss, a careless or negligent, a light or worldly, spirit visible 
 amongst those who should cherish the sacred fire of pure and heavenly devotion in the hearts 
 of Christians ? Whether the vigilance and circinnspection, the concern and ardour, of minis- 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 vii 
 
 ters have arisen in proportion to the danger there confessedly is, that the cause of their great 
 and worthy Master, which they have solemnly undertaken to sen^e and support, at any tem- 
 poral pains and hazard, should decline and perish in. their hands." (P. 7 — 9.) When the 
 reciprocal influence of pastors and their people is duly considered, it will excite no surprise, 
 that such lamentable consequences should have followed so degenerate a state of the Christian 
 ministry. 
 
 The preceding sketch of ecclesiastical history has been introduced chiefly for the sake of 
 elucidating the various works which compose the present volume. A knowledge of the facts 
 which have been cursorily noticed, is necessary to a just estimate of the character and 
 writings of Doddridge ; who entered upon his public career, just when these evils were at 
 their height, and the one gieat object of whose valuable life and labours appears to have been 
 to counteract their baneful influence. In early youth, indeed, he had not wholly escaped the 
 moral contagion of the times. It is e^•ident, from some of his familiar letters, written, in all 
 the confidence of private friendship, to those who shared his warmest affections, that at that 
 period, while undergoing the process of preparatory education for the Christian ministry, his 
 religious principles had not acquii"ed that stability and decision which they subsequently at- 
 tained ; nor had that deep-toned and fervent piety taken full possession of his mind, which 
 chai'acterized his future hfe. From early associations, or educational prejudices, he had been 
 led to identify orthodoxy of sentiment ^vith an uncharitable and censorious spirit ; and ac- 
 tuated by a just ablTorrence of the latter, he stood aloof from the former, till convinced by 
 obsei-vation and experience, that the alliance was rather accidental than necessary, arising 
 out of human infirmity, and not originating in the system itself By the vehemence and ai'dour 
 of his social affections, too, he was betrayed into occasional habits of worldly conformity, 
 which, though not micommon in that degenerate age, are neither favourable to the growth of 
 piety in the private Christian, nor consistent with the purity and dignity of the sacred office. 
 But, happily, the fiiends of liis youth, under whose patronage he was introduced into the 
 Christian ministry, and whose counsels and example contributed in no ordinary degi-ee to 
 the formation of his character, were men of exemplary wisdom and piety ; who, discerning 
 in him indications of future eminence, watched over him with more than parental solicitude ; 
 affectionately warned him of the dangers into which he was likely, from the unguardcdness 
 of youth, or the peculiar susceptibiUty of his feelings, to be betrayed ; and corrected the pre- 
 judices and errors into which he had fallen. Their efforts were amply rewarded, in perceiv- 
 ing the rapid progress of his religious character, to a maturity of growth, and luxuriance of 
 fruitfulness, which far exceeded their most sanguine hopes. Ere he had proceeded far in his 
 course as a Christian minister, his generous and susceptible mind was awakened to a full 
 sense of the extent and magnitude of the evils which then afflicted and desolated the Chris- 
 tian church, and his determination fixed a resolution from which he never swerved; — to devote 
 all the energies of his mind and body to persevering and unwearied efforts to produce a re- 
 vival of true religion. This was henceforth the goveming principle of his life, the supreme 
 object of his heart's desire, to which all his labours, whether as a pastor, a tutor, or an au- 
 thor, were solemnly consecrated. 
 
 In pursuance of this truly philanthropic object, he began with himself, and his personal 
 ministiy. Anxious to produce in his own mind a more deep and affecting sense of the re- 
 sponsibilities of his office, he frequently drew up, and recorded in his diary, resolutions and 
 covenant engagements, to which he solemnly subscribed his name, and by which he pledged 
 himself to new and increased exertions. One scries of these pastoral resolutions, evidently 
 drawn up with more than ordinary attenticm, and intended to be a kind of sacred directory 
 for his daily conduct, was transcribed by him in the first page of his interleaved Testament, 
 
viii 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 that lie might be pciiiotually icinindetl tlicieby of his ])ers()nal and social obligations. In 
 accordance with these ol't-repeated vows, he ])nisued his ministerial coiu-se Avith an ardour and 
 earncslness, of which, in that day of religions aj)alliy, tliero Avere but few examples. lie 
 adopted a style of jn-eaehing at once simple and energetic ; im]jassi(med but not declama- 
 tory ; in wdiicli evangeUcal doctrine was happily blended with the practical enforcement of 
 moral duties. The seruKms preached on })ublic occasions, and prepared by him for the press, 
 are by no means to be regarded as the best specimens of his pastoral instructions. What 
 they acquired in precision and accuracy by a careful revision, was lost in ease, and vigour, and 
 genuine patlios. His ordinaiy sermons,* com])aratively few of Avhich have yet been pub- 
 lished, fmiiish delightful specimens of genuine pulpit elocpience : they breathe the very soul 
 of tendenicss, and pastoral fidelity. In his selection of topics, he simply aimed at usefulness, 
 iuid in discussing them, he invariably pursues an easy and natural method, remote from all 
 affectation of singularity and ai-tificial arrangement. Tlicre are no ])uerile attempts at dis- 
 play, no oratorical llourishes, no idle pomp of words, no labom-ed processes of reasoning ; 
 but they abound witli eaniest and pathetic appeals to the conscience, which the most igno- 
 rant might understand, and the most obdurate could scarcely resist. While he avoided the 
 technicalities and tediousness of the puritan divines, it was evident that he drank deeply 
 into then* spirit, and most successfully imitated their earnestness and fidelity. Such being 
 tlie chai'acter of his personal ministry, it is not sur])rising that his preaching should have 
 been eminently successful. His own church and congregation flomished beneath his pastoral 
 care. "NMierever he preached, whether in the surrounding villages to the humble peasantry, or 
 on pubUc occasions to more intelligent assemblies, miUtitudes were attracted to hear, and 
 numerous were the fruits of his ministry.f 
 
 These manifest tokens of the divine approbation served but to quicken his zeal, and prompted 
 him to devise more liberal things. Aware that the solitary efforts of an individual can avail 
 httle towards effecting a general reformation, his next object was to stir up the members of 
 his own church, and his brethren in the ministiy, to increased fervour and activity. AVith this 
 view, he drew up various plans of Christian benevolence , and engaged those Avho constituted 
 his pastoral charge, to co-operate in the prosecution of those philanthropic projects ; some of 
 which related to the advancement of religion at home, and others to its propagation abroad. 
 A document, illustrative of these remaiks, •still remains in MS., which is rendered extremely 
 curious and interesting, by circumstances and events that have occuned in tlie present day.| 
 In that paper, to which the name of Dr. Doddridge, and those of about 150 members of the 
 congi-egation at Northampton, are appended, the parties subscribing pledge themselves to 
 meet at stated periods to pray for the success of the gospel in heathen lands, and to contri- 
 bute for the support of Christian missionaiies ; tlius exhibitmg a model of w'hat was probably 
 the first congregational Missionary Association in our own country, and the first avoivecHy 
 Missionary Frayer-meeting. Could this great and good man have foreseen, that within fifty 
 years from that time, almost every congregation in the British empire, the United States of 
 America, and many other parts of the world, would be blest with similar associations, and 
 that all denominations of Christians would be cither unitedly or separately employed, in 
 
 * A small volume containing " The Leading Heads of Twenty-seven Sermons, preached at Northampton, by Dr. Doddridge, 
 in the year 1749," was edited and published by the Ilev. T. Hawkins, of Warley, near Halifax, Yorkshire, in 1816; and in 
 182(5, were published four volumes which had been transcribed from his MSS. in short-hand, by Dr. Doddridge's direction 
 and left for publication after his death. The copy-right of tliese being as yet personal property, they cannot, of course, ap- 
 pear in the present edition of his works. 
 
 + An interesting statement as to Dr. Doddridge's manner in the Pulpit, is contained in " Letters from the Rev. Mr. Job 
 Orton, and the Ilev. Sir James Stonehouse, Bart. D. to the Rev. Thomas Stedman, M. A, Vicar of St. Chad's, Shrewsbury," 
 vol. ii letter 48. p. 34U 
 
 t Vide infra, p. 896. 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 ix 
 
 zealous efforts to propagate the gospel throughout the world, how would his enlarged soul 
 have exulted in the delightful prospect, and he would have been ready to exclaim, " Lord, 
 now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation ! " 
 
 From this limited sphere of usefulness, the expansive benevolence of Doddridge extended 
 itself in eveiy direction. Deeply lamenting the disorganized and divided state of the Chris- 
 tian denomination to which he belonged, he applied himself to the development of plans, 
 by which their minor differences might be healed, and their affections cemented together in 
 the bonds of Christian charity. This prompted the following earnest appeal to his brethren, 
 so ajapropriate to the state of the times, and so calculated to arouse them to a sense of their 
 duty : " Let us therefore, who, under different denominations, are honom'ed with the ministry 
 of the everlasting gospel, agi'ee for a while to suspend our debates upon less necessary sub- 
 jects, that we may, with united efforts, concm- in jarosecuting that great design for which the 
 gospel was revealed, the Spirit given, and our office instituted. And since it is so evident, 
 that irreligion has grown upon us, while we have been attending to other, and, to be sure, 
 smaller matters, let us by a plain, serious, and zealous way of preaching the most vital truths 
 of Christianity, joined with a diligent inspection of the souls committed to our care, try what 
 can be done, towards preventing the progress of this growing apostasy, and recovering the 
 ground we have already lost." At his suggestion, associations of ministers and churches 
 wei'e formed, both in the metropolis, and various parts of the kingdom, not merely for pm-- 
 poses of Christian fellowship, but also for zealous co-operation in measures tending to the re- 
 vival and advancement of tme religion. The detail of these wise and holy projects, 
 emanating fi-om a heart burning with zeal for God, and melting with compassion to the souls 
 of men, will be found in a subsequent part of this volume.* They are now distinctly noticed, 
 as affording a delightful indication of the entire devotedness of spiiit, with which this ex- 
 emplary Christian entered upon and pursued his arduous course ; and as exhibiting to future 
 ages a pattern of active miwearied zeal, which cannot be too closely imitated. An impulse 
 was given at this period, which continues to operate wdth increased force on the whole 
 Christian world. 
 
 It has been stated, that the absence or low degi'ee of piety, in those who assumed the 
 character and office of Christian ministers, was a fruitful source of the evils which then de- 
 solated the church of God. No one was more fully convinced of the extent, nor more deeply 
 lamented the prevalence, of this evil, than the excellent Doddridge ; and it was this convic- 
 tion, that induced him the more readily to acquiesce in the wishes, and yield to the entreaties, 
 of his numerous friends, that he would undertake the work of tuition. He hoped thereby to 
 be instrumental in purifying those fountains, which had sent forth so many turbid and pesti- 
 lential streams. Whatever may have been the measiu-e of his success, though painfully disap- 
 pointed in many of his hopes and expectations, it is evident from his con-cspondence with 
 those friends, to wliom he was accustomed to lay open his inmost soiU, that liis principal 
 motive in undertaking so arduous and responsible an office, was that he m;ght effectuate a 
 refonnation in the character of the Christian ministry of that age. In attempting this, he had 
 to contend with many prejudices, he laboured under difficidties which now are scarcely felt, 
 and perhaps his own views and feelings, as to the best mode of accomplishing his object, 
 were in some degi-ee mistaken. It seemed then to be haidly a recognized princijile, that 
 decided piety is an indispensable prerequisite to the sacred office. It was deemed by many 
 sufficient to warrant the introduction of a youth into that office, that his disposition should be 
 amiable, his habits virtuous, and his character hopeful. Nor was it the least injurious of the 
 practical errors of that day, in connexion Avith academical instruction, that young men vvlio 
 
 • Vide infra, p. 894. 
 
X 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 were not intended for tlie ministry, who made no j^retensions to personal religion, and of 
 whom no tost of piety could be required, were blended and amalgamated, in the process of 
 education, with those who were solemnly devoted to the ministerial otlicc. 'I'hc influence of 
 lliis imhallowed association was but too manifest, in sap})ing the foundations of religious 
 belief and virtuous conduct, in many who liad once inspired the liveliest hopes. Yet not- 
 v»ithstandiug these counteracting circumstances, the instructions, the prayers, the counsels, 
 and above all, the holy examj)le, of this devoted ser\'ant of Clirist, proved eminently success- 
 ful. Not a few of those, whom he introduced into the ministry, evinced in future life, that 
 they had imbibed the si)irit of their distinguished tutor ; and followed up, with similar if not 
 equal zeal, his various plans of Christian benevolence. Nor can we wonder that such happy 
 effects should have resulted from the instructions of one, who, according to the testimony of 
 a competent witness, " frequently inculcated on his students the necessity of preaching 
 Christ, if they desired to save souls ; of dwelling much on the peculiarities of the gospel 
 scheme, and the doctrines of Christ and the Spirit ; of considering their own concern in them, 
 and endeavouring to feel their energy on their own spirits, that they miglit appear to their 
 hearers, as giving vent to the feeling of their heart on its darling subject." * 
 
 It is not, however, with the personal or the official character of Doddridge, excellent a? 
 these may have been, and highly as they may deserve to be appreciated, we have so much 
 to do at present, as with his various and valuable writings. Nor are these so much to be re- 
 garded as specimens of the genius, talents, and emdition of their author, as of his fervent and 
 exalted piety. None who have read his earlier correspondence can doubt, thai if he had 
 chosen to direct the bent of his genius to works of imagination and taste, he could have 
 rivalled some of the most sprightly Avits of that polished age. Nor is it less evident, from his 
 numerous MSS., that if he had preferred to employ the energies of his vigorous mind in phi- 
 lological and literary pursuits, he would have been no unworthy com])etitor of the Warbur- 
 tons, the Lowths, and the Lardners, of that day. But his was a nobler aim. Usefulness, in 
 the highest and most appropriate sense of the term ; that usefidness which consists in pro- 
 moting the spiritual and eternal welfare of mankind, was the chief, perhaps it is not too much 
 to say, the exclusive, object of his ambition. For this he studied, and preached, and wrote, 
 and was content, by exertions above measm-e, and far beyond his strength, to sacrifice his life. 
 Though capable of enjoying, in a high degree, the productions of taste, or the developments 
 of science, and though sincerely desirous of the advancement of Hterature in all its branches, 
 he considered these but as secondary and subordinate objects ; nor would he allow himself 
 to pursue them further than might be rendered subservient to the great business of his life. 
 Whether he publi.shed sermons, drew up biogi-aphical memoirs of departed friends, wrote 
 academical lectures, practical treatises, or commentaries on the Scriptures, it was still appa- 
 rent throughout, that not even for an instant could he lose sight of the object to which he 
 had consecrated his existence, and which he was rendered eminently instrumental in pro- 
 moting — the revival and increase of vital godliness. 
 
 The first acknowledged publication of Doddridge appeared in 1730 ; it was a tract entitled, 
 " Free Thoughts on the most probable means of Reviving the Dissenting Interest," and was 
 occasioned by a pamphlet of Strickland Gough, on the same subject, then recently published. 
 That writer had attributed the decay of the Dissenting Interest to the defect of taste and 
 learning, and mental cultivation, in its ministers ; but om author maintains in his reply, that 
 Avhile these qualities arc confessedly desirable and important, they would prove but ineffectual 
 remedies to the existing evils, and contends that the preaching of evangelical doctrines, in a 
 plain, Scriptmal, and experimental manner, could alone preserve a congregation from religious 
 
 ♦ Oi ton's Life of Doddridge. 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 xi 
 
 decay, or revive it when languid and declining. Nothing could be more seasonable and ap- 
 propriate to the state of the times, than this short but excellent publication. In 17-32 he 
 published a series of sennons, addressed to Christian parents, on " the Religious Education 
 of their Children," and in 1735, a second series of " Sermons to Young Persons," in both of 
 which, the tenderness and affection of the parent is happily blended with the fidelity and 
 authority of the pastor. In 1736 his ten invaluable sermons were first published, on "the 
 Power and Grace of Christ, and on the Evidences of his Glorious Gospel." In 1741 a series 
 of " Practical Discourses on Regeneration " appeared, followed by two sermons on the 
 " Scripture Doctrine of Salvation by Grace tlu-ough Faith," besides several others, preached 
 on special occasions. In 1742 he prefixed an interesting sketch of the " Life and Character 
 of the Rev. Thomas Steffe," to a volume of posthumous discomses of his late excellent pupU ; 
 in which, while he yielded to the impulse of affection and fiiendship, he chiefly aimed at ex- 
 hibiting a model of ministerial excellence to surviving pastors and students. It is scarcely 
 possible to rise fi-om the perusal of this brief but comprehensive memoir, without having the 
 understanding enlightened, the judgment corrected, the affections quickened, and the heart 
 improved. 
 
 Never, perhaps, was there an individual less fitted to act the part of a polemic than Dod- 
 dridge. His natmal disposition, and his mental habits, alike concurred to render him averse 
 from religious controversy ; and these impressions were strengthened by the mischievous 
 effects which had resulted, in his day, from theological contentions. Yet, when duty called 
 him into the field, he was not backward to enter the lists, as a champion of tlie Christian 
 faith. In 1743, he appeared, for the first and only time of his life in which he assumed that 
 character, as a controversialist. A disguised infidel had published, in the preceding year, a 
 pamphlet entitled, " Christianity not Founded on Argument," in which the anonvTnous au- 
 thor, under pretence of great zeal for religion, had insidiously endeavom-ed to undei-mine all 
 the rational and Scriptural evidences, adduced by the advocates of the Christian faith; and 
 contended that nothing could warrant a belief in Christianity, short of an immediate personal 
 inspiration. In this treatise, a species of wild enthusiasm, which was but assumed as a mask 
 for the purpose of concealing his real design, was strangely blended with the latent poison 
 of infidelity. Dr. Doddridge, in three letters, which followed each other in quick succession, 
 effectually unmasked this wily adversary, exposed the folly and absurdity of his positions, 
 and vindicated the fundamental doctrine of the influence and agency of the Holy Spirit, as 
 taught in the Sacred Scriptures, from the charge of enthusiasm. These letters fiimish an 
 admirable specimen of the spirit in which all religious controversy should be carried on, and 
 the style of composition best calculated to produce conviction in sceptical minds, as well as 
 to silence gainsaycrs. 
 
 In 1745, the inestimable treatise on the " Rise and Progress of Rc-ligion," was first pub- 
 hshed ; a work which, if he had written no other, would have been amply sufficient to embalm 
 the memory of its pious author, and transmit his name with distinguished honour to far dis- 
 tant generations. It was undertaken most reluctantly, at the earnest and oft-repeated solici- 
 tations of his illustrious fi-iend and contemporary Dr. Watts; who, justly conceiving that such 
 a treatise was much needed at that period, and that no man then living was so well fitted as 
 Dr. Doddridge to execute the task, pressed it upon him with such affectionate earnestness, 
 that he could no longer resist; and happy is it, both for the chtirch and the world, that those 
 soUcitations were ultimately successful. This work is too well known to need any descrip- 
 tion, and to eulogize it in the present day woidd be indeed a work of supererogaticm. Suffice 
 it to say, that it is written with beautiful simplicity ; that many passages arc exquisitely 
 tender and pathetic ; and that the whole train of reasonings and illustrations, commend them- 
 
xii 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 selves alike to the most intelligent and the most unlettered mind, to readers of taste and re- 
 fmomonl, as well as to the uncultivated and if;;norant. Scarcely is it possible to conceive of 
 a work more calculated to awaken religious ini])rcssions and emotions in the most thought- 
 less bosom, or to deepen and render permanent those impressions when excited. Its 
 character of nsclidness is snfliciently attested, by the wide and almost unlimited circulation 
 it has obtained, the high reputation it has actpiired and ])rcserved amongst all denominations 
 of Christians, and above all, by the numerous instances in which it is known to have been 
 the instrument of conversion and salvation. The fervent supplications poured forth by its de- 
 vout author, for the blessing of the Most High on this work of his hands, recorded at the con- 
 clusion of the introductory chapter, have indeed been most signally answered, though to what 
 extent it were now vain to conjecture. That gi-eat day in which the secrets of all hearts will be 
 disclosed, and all the puiposes of divine mercy towards our apostate race developed; that day 
 alone can declai-e, to how many, of almost every nation under hea^'en, this excellent work shall 
 have been the means of spiritual insti'uction, improvement, consolation, and salvation. 
 
 "Wliilst these various publications were issuing iiom the press, their indefatigable author 
 was employed, amidst an incredible multitude of other important avocations, in collecting 
 materials for his principal work, " The Family Expositor ;" the first volume of which was 
 published in 1745, the second and third, at intervals of about two years, and the last three, 
 sul)sequently to his death. From an early period of his life and ministry, he had contem- 
 plated this excellent commentary on the New Testament, and all his literary researches had 
 been directed to the prosecution of this great design. This work is partly critical, partly in- 
 terpretive, and partly devotional and practical. In the two former of these departments of 
 sacred literature, it occupies no mean place, but in the latter it stands unrivalled. As a cri- 
 tical digest, it has long since been superseded by other more erudite and elaborate composi- 
 tions; yet many of the verbal criticisms it contains, are well deserving the attention of biblical 
 scholars. But it is to be remembered, that the life of Doddridge was too fully occujjied with 
 active official duties, to admit of that patient research, which is necessary to form the com- 
 plete critic. Nor should it be forgotten, that the science of biblical criticism was then in its 
 infancy. Little had then been done, compared with the results of more recent times, in the 
 coUation of ancient MSS. and versions, or in the investigation of various readings ; the canons 
 of sacred criticism were not as yet fixed ; nor had the most valuable of those philological 
 works then appeared, which have since acquired a standard reputation, and with Avhich our 
 libraries are now enriched. Besides which, it is to be borne in mind, that the design of the 
 author, in his i)hilological notes, was not so much to furnish the learned reader, or even the 
 theological student, with a repository of critical science, as to illustrate and justify his own 
 interpretations of Scripture. 
 
 The "Paraphrase" and "Harmony," as well as the "New Version" of the sacred text, 
 which this work contains, were evidently the residt of much labour and study. "Whatever 
 opinion may be formed of their utility, none can doubt that they are the production of an. 
 enlightened and well furnished mind ; nor can we forbear to admire the fidelity and reverence 
 for Scripture, which prompted him so carefully to detach the language of the sacred writers 
 from his own commentaries. This part of his plan, the execution of which must have cost 
 him no ordinary pains, originated (as he has modestly and piously expressed it in the preface 
 to his first volume) in a desire, " that every one might immediately see, not only the parti- 
 cular clause to which any explication answers, but also what are the words of the sacred 
 original, and what merely the sense of a fallible man, who is liable, though in the integrity of 
 his heart, to mislead his readers, and dares not attribute to himself the singular glory of having 
 put ofl' every prejudice, even while he would deUberately and knowingly allow none." 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 xiii 
 
 But the principal charm of this valuable performance, consists in its truly devotional cha- 
 racter. The " Improvements" appended to each section, are written with a chaste simplicity, 
 and sometimes an elegance of style, which must render them gi-atcful to the most refined and 
 cultivated understanding, and at the same time with an evangelical miction, that cannot fail 
 to endear them to the pious and devout. The excellent author has conti'ived with consum- 
 mate skill, and yet in an easy and natural manner, to embody in his practical reflections, all 
 the thoughts and much of the language of the inspired writers ; and has sho^vn, that even the 
 minutest portion is " profitable for doctrine, reproof, coirection, and instruction in righteous- 
 ness." The writer of these introductory pages can testify from long experience, and the fre- 
 quent perusal of these instructive paragi-aphs, that the more familiar the mind becomes with 
 theii- contents, the more is it impressed with their exquisite beauty and intrinsic worth. 
 
 It was the intention of Dr. Doddridge, if his valuable life had been prolonged, to jjursue the 
 same plan with reference to some, if not all, the books of the Old-Testament Scriptmes. 
 Amongst his numei'ous MSS. is found, one which contains a " New Version of the Minor 
 Prophets," in the margin of which are written a few critical notes on the Hebrew text. From 
 the title-page of this MS.* it appears, that some portions of the prophetical writings were to 
 have been paraphrased, and practical "improvements" annexed; but these, as well as many 
 other projects, both literary and religious, devised by this Christian philanthropist, for the 
 good of posterity, were abraptly terminated by his death. It is deeply to be regretted, that 
 the devotions of Chris'tian families ai-e not aided by a similar commentary on the Old-Testa- 
 ment Scriptures, proceeding from the same enlightened mind, and breathing the same spirit of 
 fen ent piety, which pervades the " Family Expositor." 
 
 The only additional work of Doddridge, published dining his life, (if we except some oc- 
 casional sermons, and a tract of singular excellence and utility, on " the Importance of Family 
 Religion,") was his " Memoirs of Colonel Gardiner," which first appeared in 1747. This 
 biographical sketch glows throughout with all the fer\'our of Christian friendship, and was 
 evidently intended by the writer, to afford practical evidence, that a high tone of piety and 
 devotion may be preserved amidst pursuits and engagements most rmfavourable to their ex- 
 ercise. His academical "Lectures," and " Hymns," were posthumous publications. The 
 former take a wide range, embrace a great variety of topics, and sufficiently indicate the un- 
 wearied labour and research of their author. If they were to be regarded as, in themselves, a 
 sufficient directory to theological students, or as containing a complete si/stem of academical 
 instruction, it must be acknowledged, that they are extremely defective and inadequate. But 
 such was not the intention of their author, nor were they employed by him for this purpose. 
 He considered them rather as an outline or syllabus to be filled up by the diligence of the 
 students from other sources, to which he was continually refened. Objections have been 
 made, and not without reason, to the scholastic and technical form in which the materials are 
 an'anged, — the blending together in one series of lectures, and a connected train of proposi- 
 tions, metaphysics, ethics, and divinity, — the disproportionate attention given to the evidences 
 of natural and revealed religion, compared with the nan'ow space allotted to the statement 
 and vindication of Christian doctrines, — and the employment, for the most |)art, of abstract ge- 
 neral reasonings, instead of making a constant and final appeal to the authority of Scriptm'c. 
 Yet it can scarcely be doubted, that some of these defects were rejnedied in the lecture-room, 
 by the viva voce instructions of the tutor; and others woidd probably have been diminished, 
 
 " The following memoranda inserted in the title-page of this MS. are somewhat curious, as indicating the plan of the au- 
 thor, the lirno occupied by each portion of this unfinished work, and the precise date of its performance. " A New Translation 
 of the Minor Prophets, with a short Paraphrase on those passages which seemed most to require it, divided into proper sections, 
 with a Practical Improvement of each, for the use of Families, and with large contents to each. (Began Hosea, Oct. 1, IT.'X). 
 Joel, Oct. 29. Amos, Nov. 9. Obadiah, Dec. 3. Jonah, Dec. 7. Wicah, Dec. 20. Nahum,Jan.7. Habakkuk, Jan. 22. 
 Zephaniah, March 8. Haggai, March 25. Zechariah, April 1 . Malachi, May 14. The whole ended June 5, 1751.)" 
 
xiv 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 if not removed, had the publication issued from the press while the autlior was yet living, 
 and been subjected to his iinal revision. 
 
 The " liOcturcs on Preaching, and the several branches of the Ministerial Office," long re- 
 mained in IMS. though they are among the most valuable and useful of our author's compo- 
 sitions. They were left in an unfniished state, as is evident from the broken character of the 
 .sentences and jjaragiviphs, luid the abrupt transitions made from one subject to another; but 
 they are full of jiractical wisdom, and, making due allowance for the altered condition of tlie 
 Dissenting churches, the young pastor can scai'cely follow a better guide in the discharge of 
 his official duties. The didactic instructions contained in this short but comprehensive 
 course, illustrated and exemplified as they are by the life and labours of their distinguished 
 author, well deserve the frequent and serious perustU of all candidates for the sacred office. 
 
 Having thus cursorily noticed the principal works of this eminent divine, in their cluono- 
 logical order, it only remains in concluding these prefatory remarks, to glance for a moment 
 at the happy change which has taken place in the religious condition of our country, since 
 the date of their first pubhcation ; and to which they may unquestionably be considered as 
 having in some degree contributed. It is not indeed asserted, nor is it the intention of the 
 writer to intimate, that these are the only, or even the principal, cause of the happier state of 
 things tliat now exists. Many circumstances have concuned to give an impulse to public 
 opinion and feeling in modern times, w-hich could scarcely have been anticipated, or hoped 
 for, in the time of Watts and Doddridge, and still less in that of their illustrious predecessor. 
 Yet tlie increased attention given on the present day to the tlieological and practical writings 
 of the 17th century, and to those of a similar class and character of yet later date, may be 
 enumerated among the favourable signs of the times, and affords a gi-atifying pledge that 3^et 
 brighter and more prosperous days await the church of God. Instead of the general decay of 
 \'ital religion, which awakened tko sympathies and aroused the energies of Doddridge and his 
 pious coadjutors, it is our happiness to have witnessed some symptoms of revival and increase, 
 — s)-mptoms which are not confined to one party or denomination of professing Christians 
 alone, but which may be discerned, in a greater or less degree, in every section of the Christian 
 church. Instead of the indifference to truth, or the widely-spread eiTors and heresies, which 
 then depopulated and wasted the religious societies of our land, it is gi-ateful now to observe 
 the prevalence and almost imiversal triumph of evangelical truth. In place of the rancorous 
 spirit of discord and division, that afflicted and grieved the susceptible mind of Doddridge, 
 and others, who, like liim, ardently prayed and longed for the peace and prosperity of Zion, it 
 may be hoped, that now all sincere behevers are approximating towards a state of catholic 
 miion, and breatliing more of the spirit of peace and love, than at any former period since the 
 apostoUc age. And finally, instead of the isolated, the divided efforts to propagate the gospel, 
 in Christian and heathen lands, to which Doddridge assiduously endeavoured to stimulate his 
 brethren and fellow Christians, and which he deemed himself happy in being the instrument 
 of accomplishing, though in a limited degree ; it is our felicity to live in a period and country, 
 in which efforts are making upon an enlarged scale, and w ith the combined energies of the 
 whole Christian world, to communicate the volume of inspiration, and impart the blessings of 
 the gospel, to the entire family of man. Other men have laboured, amidst a thousand discour- 
 agements and difficulties, of which we, who live in more favoured times, can scarcely fonn a 
 conception, and it is ours to have entered into their labours. We are permitted to reap the 
 fruits of the fervent and miceasing supplications of the pious and devout of former ages. May 
 onr zeal and diligence be jjroportionate to our increased obligations and privileges : so will the 
 holy anticipations of this devoted servant of Christ be abundantly realized, and the joy of his 
 beatified spirit increased by the developments of future years and ages. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 44 
 
 47 
 
 49 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 Page 
 
 Dedication ...... 
 
 Preface 
 
 Chap. 1 The Introduction to the Work, with some gene 
 ral account of its design . 
 
 II. The careless sinner awakened 
 
 III. The awakened sinner urged to immediate con 
 
 sideration, and cautioned against delay 
 
 IV. The sinner arraigned and convicted 
 V. The sinner stripped of his vain pleas 
 
 VL The sinner sentenced ... 
 
 VII. The helpless state of the sinner under con 
 
 demnation ..... 
 
 VIII. News of salvation by Christ brought to the con 
 
 vinced and condemned sinner . 
 
 IX. A more particular account of the way by which 
 
 this salvation is to be obtained . 
 
 X. The sinner seriously urged and entreated to ac 
 
 cept of salvation in this way 
 
 XI. A solemn Address to those who will not be per- 
 
 suaded to fall in with the design of the gospel 
 
 XII. An Address to a soul so overwhelmed with a 
 
 sense of the greatness of its sins, that it dares 
 not apply itself to Clirist with any hope of 
 salvation ...... 
 
 XIII. The doubting soul more particularly assisted in 
 
 its inquiries as to the sincerity of its faith and 
 repentance ...... 
 
 XIV. A more particular view of the several branches 
 
 of the Christian temper; by which the reader 
 may be further assisted in judging what he is, 
 and what he should endeavour to be . 
 XV. The reader reminded how much he needs the 
 assistance of the Spirit of God, to form him to 
 the temper described above, and what encou- 
 ragement he has to expect it . . . jj 
 
 XVI. The Christian convert warned of, and animated 
 
 against, those discouragements which he must 
 expect to meet w ith, when entering on a reli- 
 gious course . . . . .57 
 
 XVII. The Christian urged to, and assisted in, an ex- 
 
 press act of self-dedication to the service of 
 God ....... CO 
 
 XVIII. Of entering into Church-communion by an at- 
 
 tendance upon the Lord's Supper . 63 
 
 XIX. Some more particular Directions for maintaining 
 
 continual communion with God, or being in 
 
 his fear all the day long . . . . CC 
 
 XX. A serious persuasive to such a method of spend- 
 
 ing our days, as is represented in the former 
 chapter ...... 72 
 
 XXI. A caution against various temptations, by which 
 
 the young convert may be drawn aside from 
 
 the course recommended above . . 7C 
 
 XXII. The case of spiritual decay, and languor in reli- 
 
 gion 79 
 
 XXIU. The sad case of a relapse into known and deli- 
 berate sin, after solemn acts of dedication to 
 God, and some progress made in religion . 8.3 
 XXIV. The case of the Christian under the hidings of 
 
 God's face ...... 87 
 
 Chap. Page 
 
 XXV. The Christian struggling under great and heavy 
 
 afflictions ...... 92 
 
 XXVI. The Christian assisted in examining into his 
 
 growth in grace ..... 9.5 
 
 X.XVU. The advanced Christian reminded of the mercies 
 of God, and exhorted to the exercises of habi- 
 tual love to him, and joy in him . . 93 
 XXVIII. The established Christian urged to exert himself 
 
 for purposes of usefulness . . . lo2 
 XXIX. The Christian rejoicing in the viev/s of death and 
 
 judgment . . . . .106 
 
 XXX. The Christian honouring God by his dying be- 
 haviour . . .110 
 A Plain and Serious Address to the Master of a Family, on 
 
 the important subject of Family Religion . . .117 
 Postscript.— Prayers lor a Family . . . .126 
 
 Life of Colonel Gardiner . . . .133 
 
 Appendix I. Relating to the Colonel's person . . 178 
 II. Poetical Pieces on his death . . . ib. 
 III. Remarkable Particulars concerning the 
 
 Munros ...... 184 
 
 Some Account of the Life and Character of the Rev. Mr. T. 
 Steffe 195 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, 
 AND DIVINITY. 
 
 Advertisement, by the first Editor .... 215 
 
 Preface, to the third Edition . . . .210 
 
 Introduction ....... 217 
 
 P.\RT 1 Of the Powers and Faculties of the Human Mind, 
 
 and the Instinct of Bnites . . 219 
 
 II. Of the Being of a God, and his Natural Perfec- 
 
 tions ....... 239 
 
 III. Of the Nature of Moral Virtue in general, and the 
 
 Moral Attributes of God ; of the several 
 Branches of Virtue, and the Nature of Civil 
 Government ..... 270 
 
 IV. Of the Immortality and Immateriality of the 
 
 Soul ; its Original ; the general obligation to 
 Virtue ; and the State of it in the World . 318 
 
 V. Of the Reason to expect and desire a Revelation ; 
 and the Internal and External Evidence with 
 w hich we may suppose it should be attended 332 
 
 VI. The Genuineness and Credibility of the Old and 
 
 New Testament vindicated 340 
 
 VII. An Account of the Scripture Doctrine relating to 
 
 the Existence and Nature of God, and the 
 Divinity of the Son and Spirit . . . 420 
 
 VIII. Of the Fall ol Human Nature ; and our Recovery 
 
 by the Mediatorial Undertaking of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ . . . . .435 
 
 IX. A Survey of the chief Duties required in the 
 
 fiospel, and more particularly of the Positive 
 Institutions; in which the Doctrine of the 
 Christian Sabbath, the Sacraments, and the 
 Constitution of the Church are particularly 
 considered ...... 468 
 
 X. The Scripture Doctrine of good and ba,d Angels, 
 
 and of a Future State, including the Doctrine 
 of the Resurrection, with the most remarkable 
 events to precede or attend it . . . ,103 
 
ii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Appendix I. . . . . . .- . Sti 
 
 11 i37 
 
 Catalogue of the Authors mentioned in tliis Work . ib. 
 
 SETS OF SliRMONS. 
 
 On TiiK Rei.ioioi's Edi'cation OF (Children . M5 
 
 Serm. 1 549 
 
 11 556 
 
 lit 561 
 
 IV 5UU 
 
 To YotiNG Persons ...... 577 
 
 Skrm v. The Importance of the Rising Generation 578 
 VI. Christ formed in the Soul, the only Foundation of 
 
 Hope for Eternity ..... 686 
 
 VII. A Dissuasive from keeping bad Company . 5!)4 
 
 Vlll. Religious Vouth invited to early Communion . 602 
 
 L\. The Orphan s Hope 610 
 
 X. The Reflections of a pious Parent on the Death 
 
 of a nicked Child, considered and improved . 617 
 
 XI. Youtli reminded of approaching Judgment . 621 
 On the Power and Grace of Christ, and Evidences 
 
 OF Christianity ...... fi.32 
 
 Ser. XII. The Ability of Christ to save to the Uttermost CM 
 
 XIII. The Proofs of Christ's Ability to save . . 6.i9 
 
 XIV. Christ's Saving Power argued from liis Inter- 
 
 cession . . . . . .615 
 
 XV. Coming to God by Christ, the Character of those 
 
 that sl'all be saved . . .651 
 
 XVI. An Exhortation to Sinners to come unto God by 
 
 Christ ...... 656 
 
 XVII. The tenderness of Christ to the Lambs of his 
 
 Flock ...... 661 
 
 XVIII. Proofs of Christ's tenderness, and the improve- 
 
 ment we should make of it . . 666 
 
 XIX. The Evidences of Christianity briefly stated, and 
 
 the New Testament proved to be genuine . 673 
 XX. The Evidences of Christianity deduced from the 
 
 New Testament allowed to be genuine . 682 
 XXI. Additional Evidences of Christianity, and Reflec- 
 tions on the whole .... 689 
 Oif Regeneration . . . . . ,697 
 Ser. XXII. The Character of the Unregenerate . . 701 
 XXIII. Of the Nature of Regeneration, and particularly 
 of the Change it produces in Men s Apprehen- 
 sions ....... 708 
 
 XXIV. Of the Nature of Regeneration, with respect to 
 
 the change it produces in Men 's Affections, 
 Resolutions, Labours, Enjoyments, and Hopes 714 
 
 XXV. The Necessity of Regeneration argued, from 
 
 the immutable Constitution of God . . 721 
 XXVL Of the incapacity of an Unregenerate Person for 
 relishing the enjoyments of the heavenly 
 World ...... 729 
 
 XXVII. Of the Importance of entering into the Kingdom 
 
 of God ...... 736 
 
 XXVIU. Of the Necessity of Divine Influences to produce 
 
 Regeneration in the Soul . . 743 
 
 XXIX. Of the various Methods of the Divine Operation 
 
 in the Production of this Saving Change . 751 
 XXX. Directions to Awakened Sinners . . . 760 
 XXXI. An Address to the Regenerate, founded on the 
 
 preceding Discourses .... 766 
 
 SINGLE SERMONS, AND DISCOURSES ON PARTICULAR 
 OCCASIONS. 
 
 PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 Skrm. I. The Care of the Soul, the one Thing Needful 775 
 II. & III. The Scripture Doctrine of Salvation by Grace 
 
 through Faith .... 783, 790 
 
 Serm. IV. Christ's Invitation to Thirsty Souls 796 
 V. The Guilt and Doom of Capernaum, seriously 
 recommended to the Consideration of the In. 
 habitants of London . . . .806 
 
 fpneral sermons. 
 Serm. VI. Submission to Divine Providence in the Death 
 
 ol Children, rcconnnended and enforced . 815 
 
 VII. On the Death of the Rev. Mr. Norris . 8'i7 
 
 VIII. On the Death of the Rev. Mr. Shepherd . 830 
 
 IX. On the Death of Colonel Gardiner . 811 
 
 X. On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Clark . 850 
 
 ordination sermons. 
 Serm. XI. The Temper and Conduct of the Primitive 
 
 Ministers of the Gospel .... 860 
 A Charge delivered at the Ordination of Mr. 
 
 John Jennings ..... 869 
 A (;harge delivered at the Ordination of Mr. 
 
 Abraham Tozer . . . . .876 
 An Appendix relating to the Method of Ordina- 
 tion among the Dissenters . . . 883 
 
 XII. Christian Candour and Unanimity stated, illus- 
 
 trated, and urged .... 886 
 
 XIII. The Evil and Danger of Neglecting the Souls of 
 
 Men S94 
 
 occasional sermons. 
 Serm. XIV. On Account of the Fire at Wellingborough . 909 
 XV. Compassion to the Sick recommended and 
 
 urged 918 
 
 .XVI. The Necessity of a general Reformation in 
 
 order to obtain success in War . . 930 
 
 XVIl. On Account of the Peace concluded with 
 
 France and Spain .... 941 
 
 XVIII. Thanksgiving Sermon, Preached on Account of 
 the precipitate flight of the Rebels from 
 Stirling ...... 949 
 
 XLX. The Absurdity and Iniquity of Persecution for 
 
 Conscience-sake .... 958 
 
 Hymns founded on various texts of the Holy Scriptures . 973 
 The Principles of the Christian Religion expressed in plain 
 and easy verse ....... 1080 
 
 TRACTS, &c. 
 two dissertations, viz. 
 
 No. 1. On Sir Isaac Newton's Scheme for reducing the 
 several Histories contained in the Evangelists to their 
 proper order ....... 1089 
 
 No. II. On the Inspiration of the NewTestament, as proved 
 from the facts recorded in the Historical Books of it . 1095 
 
 Postscript to the above, containing a Sketch of the Argu- 
 ments by which the Inspiration of the Old Testament may 
 be proved in the easiest Method, and by the most solid 
 and convincing Evidence . . . . .1107 
 
 Free Thoughts on the most probable means of reviving the 
 Dissenting Interest, occasioned by an Inquiry into the 
 Causes of its Decay ; addressed to the Author of that 
 Inquiry . . .1110 
 
 A Friendly Letter to the Private Soldiers in a Regiment of 
 Foot 1178 
 
 three letters to the author of a pamphlet, entitled 
 " christianitv not founded on argument." 
 
 Letter 1 1122 
 
 II 1141 
 
 III 1159 
 
 Letters 1I8I 
 
 Rev. Job Orion's Sermon on Dr. Doddridge's Death . 1208 
 
THE 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 OF 
 
 RELIGION IN THE SOUL; 
 
 ILLUSTRATED IN A COURSE OF 
 
 SERIOUS AND PRACTICAL ADDRESSES, 
 
 SUITED TO 
 
 PERSONS OF El'ERY CHARACTER AND CIRCUMSTANCE : 
 
 WITH A 
 
 DEVOUT MEDITATION OR PRAYER ADDED TO EACH CHAPTER. 
 
 Qua feret hie gressum, foDtem dabit arida vallis, 
 
 Inque cavas fossas depluet agmeo aquae ; 
 Instaurabit iter vires: et Numinis ora 
 
 Visurus Sulymae figct in aede pcdcm. 
 
 JOHNST. PSAL. Ixxxiv. 5, 6. 
 
 Testifying— Repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ.— ACTS xx. 21. 
 
 Wliom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom : that we may present every man 
 perfect in Christ Jesus.— COL. i. 28. 
 
 B 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO THE REVEREND DR. ISAAC WATTS. 
 
 Reverend and Dear Sir, 
 
 With the most affectionate gratitude and respect, I beg leave to present to you a book, which owes 
 its existence to your request, its copiousness to your plan, and much of its perspicuity to your review, 
 and to the use I made of your remarks on that part of it which your health and leisure would per- 
 mit you to examine. I address it to you, not to beg your patronage to it, for of that I am already well 
 assured ; and much less from any ambition of attempting your character, for which, if I were more equal 
 to the subject, I should think this a very improper place: but chiefly from a secret delight which I 
 find in the thought of being known to those whom this may reach, as one whom you have honoured, not 
 only with your friendship, but with so much of your esteem and approbation too, as must substantially 
 appear in your committing a work to me, which you had yourself projected as one of the most consider- 
 able services of your life. 
 
 I have long thought the love of popular applause a meanness, which a philosophy far inferior to that 
 of our divine Master might have taught us to conquer. But to be esteemed by eminently great and 
 good men, to whom we are intimately known, appears to me not only one of the most solid attestations 
 of some real worth, but, next to the approbation of God and our own consciences, one of its most 
 valuable rewards. It will, I doubt not, be found .so in that world, to which spirits like yours are 
 tending, and for wliicb, through divine grace, you have obtained so uncommon a degree of ripeness. 
 And permit me, Sir, while I write this, to refresh myself with the hope that when that union of 
 hearts, which has so long subsisted between us, shall arrive to its full maturity and cndeamient 
 there, it will be matter of mutual delight to recollect, that you have assigned me, and that I have in 
 some degree executed, a task, which may perhaps, under the blessing of God, awaken and improve reli- 
 gious sentiments in the minds of those whom we leave behind us, and of others who may arise after us 
 in this vain, transitory, insnaring world. 
 
 Such is the improvement you have made of your capacities for ser\ice, that I am fully persuaded 
 heaven has received very few, in these latter ages, who have done so much to serve its interests here 
 below ; few, who have laboured in this best of causes with equal assiduity, and equal success. And 
 therefore I cannot but join with all who wish well to the Christian interest among us, in acknowledging 
 the goodness of Providence to you and to the church of Christ, in prolonging a life at once so valuable 
 and so tender, to such an advanced period. With them. Sir, I rejoice that God hath given you to possess 
 in so extraordinai-y a degree, not only the consciousness of intending great benefil to the world, but the 
 satisfaction of having effected it, and of seeing such a harvest already springing up, 1 hope as an earnest 
 of a much more copious increase from thence. With multitudes more I bless God that you are not, in 
 this evening of so alllicted and yet so laborious a day, rendered entirely incapable of serving the public 
 from the press, and from the pulpit; and that amidst the pain which your active spirit feels, when these 
 pleasing services suffer long interruptions from bodily weakness, it may be so singularly refreshed by 
 reflecting on that sphere of extensive usefulness in which by your writings you continually move. 
 
 I congratulate you, dear Sir, that while you are, in a multitude of families and .schools of the lower 
 class, condescending to the humble, yet important, work of forming infant minds to the first rudiments of 
 religious knowledge and devout impressions, by your various Catechisms and Divine Songs ; you arc 
 also daily reading lectures on Logic, and other useful branches of philo.sophy, to studious youth. And 
 this, not only in private academies, but in the most public and celebrated seats of learning ; not merely 
 
 n 2 
 
iv 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 in Scotland, anil in our Amorican colonies, (uhorr, from some peculiar considerations, it miRlit most 
 naturally be expected,) but, through the amiable candour of some excellent men and accomplished 
 tutors, in our Enjrlish universities too. I eouRratulate you, that you arc teaching, no doubt, hundreds 
 of ministers, and thousands of private Christians, by your sermons, and other theological writings ; 
 so happily calculated to dill'use through their minds that light of knowledge, and through their hearts 
 that fervour of piety, which (Jod has been pleased to enkindle in your own. But above all, I congratu- 
 late you, that by your sacred poetry, especially by your Psalms, and your Hymns, you are leading the 
 worship, and I trust also animating the devotions of myriads, in our public assemblies, every sabbath, 
 and in their families or closets every day. This, Sir, at least so far as it relates to the service of the 
 sanctuary, is an unparalleled favour, by which God hath been pleased to distinguish you, I may boldly 
 say it, beyond any of his servants now upon earth. Well may it be esteemed a glorious efjuivalcnt, and 
 indeed much more than an equivalent, for all those views of ecelesiastical prcfcnuent, to which such 
 talents, learning, virtues, and interest might have entitled you in an establishment ; and I doubt not, 
 but you joyfully accept it as such. 
 
 Nor is it easy to conceive in what circumstances you could, on any supposition, have been easier and 
 Iiappier, than in that pious and truly honourable family, in which, as I verily believe, in special indul- 
 gence both to you and to it, Providence has been pleased to appoint that you should spend so con- 
 siderable a part of your life. It is my earnest'prayer, that all the remainder of it may be serene, useful, 
 and pleasant. And as, to my -certain knowledge, your compositions have been the singular comfort of 
 many excellent Christians (some of them numbered among my dearest friends) on their dying bed ; for 
 I have heard stanzas of them repeated from the lips of several, who were doubtless in a few hours to 
 begin the Song of Moses and the Lamb: .so I hope and trust, that when God shall call you to that sal- 
 vation, for which your faith and patience have so long been waiting, he will shed around you the 
 choicest beams of his favour, and gladden your heart with consolations, like those which you have 
 been the happy instrument of administering to others. 
 
 In the mean time. Sir, be assured, that I am not a little animated in the various labours to which 
 Providence has called me, by reflecting that I have such a contemporary, and especially such a friend ; 
 whose single presence would be to me as that of a cloud of witnesses here below, to awaken my alacrity 
 in the race that is set before me. And I am persuaded, that while I say this, I speak the sentiment of 
 many of my brethren, even of various denominations : a consideration, which I hope will do something to- 
 wards reconciling a heart so generous as yours, to the delay of that exceeding and eternal weight of glory 
 which is now so nearly approaching. Yes, my honoured friend, you will, I hope, cheerfully endure a 
 little longer continuance in life amidst all its infirmities ; from an assurance, that while God is pleased 
 to maintain the exercise of your reason, it is hardly possible that you should live in vain to the world 
 or yourself. Every day, and every trial, is brightening your crown, and rendering you still more meet 
 for an inheritance among the saints in light. Every word that you drop from the pulpit has now surely 
 its peculiar weight ; the eyes of many are on their ascending prophet, eagerly intent that they may 
 catch, if not his mantle, at least some divine sentence from his lips, which may long guide their ways 
 and warm their hearts. This solicitude your friends bring into those happy moments, in which they are 
 favoured with your converse in private ; and when you are retired from them, your prayers, I doubt 
 not, largely contribute towards guarding your country, watering the church, and blessing the world. 
 Long may they continue to answer these great ends ! and permit me. Sir, to conclude, with expressing 
 my cheerful confidence, that in those best moments you are often particolarly mindful of one, who so 
 liighly esteems, so greatly needs, and so warmly returns, that remembrance, as. 
 
 Reverend and dear Sir, 
 
 Your most affectionate brother, 
 
 And obliged humble servant, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Northampton, Dec. 13, 1744. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The several hints given in the Dedication and the first chapter of this treatise, wliich contains a 
 particular plan of the design, render it unnecessary to introduce it with a long preface. Some of my 
 readers may perhaps remember that several years ago I promised this work to the public, in the preface 
 to the s'^cond edition of my sermons on the power and grace of Christ, &,c. My much honoured friend. 
 Dr. Watts, had laid the scheme, especially of the former part. But as tliose indispositions whh whicli 
 (to the unspeakable grief of the churches) God has been pleased to exercise him, had forbid his hopes 
 of beint able to add this to his many labours of love to immortal souls, he was pleased in a very affec- 
 tionate and importunate manner to urge me to undertake it. And 1 bless God with my whole heart, 
 not only that he hath carried me through this delightful task, (for such indeed I have found it,) but 
 also that he hath spared that worthy and amiable person to see it accomplished, and given him strength 
 and spirit to review so considerable a part of it. His approbation expressed in stronger terms than 
 modesty will permit me to repeat, encourages me to hope that it is executed in such a manner, as may, 
 by the divine blessing, render it of some general service. And I the rather expect it will be so, as it 
 now comes abroad into the world, not only with my own prayers, and his, but also with those of many 
 other pious friends ; which I have been particularly careful to engage for its success. 
 
 Into whatever hands this work may come, I must desire, that before any pass their judgment upon i(, 
 they would please to read it through ; that they may discern the connexion between one part of it and 
 another. Which I the rather request, because I have long observed, that Cliristians of dilTerent parlies 
 have been eagerly laying hold on particular parts of the system of divine truths, and have been contend- 
 ing about them as if each had been all ; or as if the separation of the members from each other, and 
 from the head, were the preservation of the body, instead of its destruction. They have been zealous 
 to espouse the defence, and to maintain the honour and usefulness, of each apart ; whereas their honour, 
 as well as usefulness, seems to me to lie much in their connexion : and suspicions have often arisen 
 'betwixt the respective defenders of each, which have appeared as unreasonable and absurd, as if all tlio 
 preparations for securing one part of a ship in a storm were to be censured as a contrivance to sink the 
 rest. I pray God to give to all his ministers and people more and more of the spirit of wisdom, and of 
 love, and of a sound mind ; and to remove far from us those mutual jealousies and animosities, whicli 
 hinder our acting with that unanimity, which is necessary in order to the successful carrying on our 
 common warfare against the enemies of Christianity. We may be sur«;, these enemies will never fail 
 to make their own advantage of our mulfiplicd divisions, and severe contests with each other ; ljut 
 they must necessarily lose both their ground and their influence, in proportion to the degree in which 
 the energy of Christian principles is felt, to unite and transform the hearts of those by whom they arc 
 professed. 
 
 I take thi.s opportunity of adding, that as this treatise may be looked upon as the sequel of my Sermons 
 on Regeneration, though in something of a different method ; a second edition of those Sermons is 
 now published (in compliance with the rctiuest of my friends) in the same fonn and size \\i(ii this 
 book. I have been solicitous to make them both as cheap as possible, that I may fall in with tlic 
 charitable designs of those who m.ay purpose to give them away. There is however an edition of this 
 treatise in octavo, for such as rather choose to have it in a larger character and fairer form. 
 
 I have studied the greatest plainness of speech, that the lowest of my readers may, if possible, be ablo 
 to understand every word ; and 1 hope persons of a more elegant taste and refined education, will pardon 
 what ap[)eared to me so necessary a piece of charity. Such a care in practical writings seems one im- 
 portant in.stance of that honouring all men, which our amiable and condescending religion teaches us : 
 and I have been particularly obliged to my worthy patron for what he hath done to shorten some of the 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 soiitt-iu'i'S, and In \)iit my meaning,- into plainer and more iamiliar words. Yet I dare say, tlic world will 
 not suspect it of having eontiaeted anj impropriety or inelegance of language, Ity passing tlirougli the 
 hands of Dr. Watts. 
 
 I must add one remark here, which I heartily wish 1 had not omitted in the first edition, viz. that 
 though 1 «lo in this book consider my reader as successively in a great variety of supposed circumstances, 
 beginning with those of a thoughtless sinner, and leading him through several stages of (H)nviction, 
 terror, Ste. as what may be previous to his sincerely accepting the gospel, and devoting himself to the 
 service of (lod ; yet I would by no means be thought to insinuate, that every one who is brought to that 
 liappy resolution, arrives at it through those particular steps, or feels agitations of mind equal in degree 
 to those I have described. Some sense of sin, and some serious and humbling apprehension of our 
 danger and misery in consequence of it, must indeed be necessary, to dispose us to receive the grace of 
 the gospel, and the Saviou>- who is there exhibited to our faith. But God is pleased sometimes to begin 
 the work of his grace on the heart almost from the first dawning of reason, and to carry it on by such 
 gentle and insensible degrees, that very excellent persons, who have made the most eminent attainments 
 in the divine life, have been unable to recount any remarkable history of their conversion. And so far 
 as I can learn, this is most frequently the case with those of them who have enjoyed the benefit of a 
 pious education, w hen it has not been succeeded by a vicious and licentious youtli. God forbid, tlierefore, 
 that any such should be so insensible of their own happiness, as to fall into perplexity with relation to 
 their spiritual state, for want of being able to trace such a rise of religion in their minds, as it was 
 necessary on my plan for me to describe and exemplify here. I have spoken my sentiments on this 
 head so fully in the eighth of my Sermons on Regeneration, that I think none who has read and remem- 
 bers the general contents of it, can be in danger of mistaking my meaning here. But as it is very 
 possible this book may fall into the hands of many who have not read the other, and have no opportunity 
 of consulting it, I tliought it proper to insert this caution in the preface to this ; and I am much obliged 
 to that worthy and excellent person, who kindly reminded me of the expediency of doing it. 
 
 I conclude with desiring my friends to forgive the necessary interruption which this work has given to 
 the third volume of my Family Expositor, which I am now sending to the press as fast as I can, and 
 hope to publish it in less than a year. To this volume I have referred several additional notes, and the 
 indexes, which are necessary to render the former volumes complete ; having determined to add nothing 
 to the second edition which should depreciate the former. I do not think it necessary to trouble my 
 friends with a new subscription ; taking it for granted, that few who were pleased with the other part 
 of the work, will fail of perfecting the set of the historical books of the New Testament, — When my 
 exposition on the epistolary part may be completed, God only knows. I will proceed in it as fast as 
 the other duties of my station will permit; and I earnestly beg, that if my readers find edification and 
 advantage by any of my writings, they would in return offer a prayer for me, that God may carry 
 me on, in that most important labour of my pen, under the remarkable tokens of his guidance and 
 blessing. 
 
THE 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 RELIGION IN THE SOUL, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Introduction to the Worh, with some general 
 account of its design. 
 
 That true religion is very rare, appears from comparing the nature of 
 it witli tlie lices and characters of men around us, { 1, 2. The want 
 of it, raaltcr of just lamentation, { 3. To remedy this evil, is the 
 design of the ensuing treatise, \ 4. To which therefore the author 
 earnestly bespeaks the attention of the reader, as his own heart is 
 deeply interested in it, } 5, 6. A general plan of the work : of which 
 the fifteen first chapters relate chiefly to the rise of religion, and the 
 remaining chapters to its progress, { 7—12. The chapter concludes 
 with a prayer for the success of the work. 
 
 § 1. When we look round about us with an atten- 
 tive eye, and consider the characters and pursuits 
 of men, we plainly see, that though, in tlic original 
 constitution of their natures, they only, of all the 
 creatures that dwell on the face of the earth, be 
 capable of religion, yet many of them shamefully 
 neglect it. And whatever difl'ercnt notions people 
 may entertain of what they call religion, all must 
 agree in owning, that it is very far from being an 
 universal thing. 
 
 § 2. Religion, in its most general view, is such 
 a sense of God on the soul, and such a conviction 
 of our obligations to him, and our dependence 
 upon him, as shall engage us to make it our great 
 care to conduct ourselves in a manner which we 
 have reason to believe will be pleasing to him. 
 Now when we have given this plain account of 
 religion, it is by no means necessary that we should 
 search among the savages of the African or Ameri- 
 can nations, to find instances of those who are 
 strangers to it. When we view the conduct of tlic 
 generality of people at home, in a Christian and 
 protcstant nation, in a nation whose obligations to 
 God have been singular, almost beyond those of any 
 other people under heaven, will any one presume to 
 say that religion has an universal reign among us .' 
 Will any one sui)pose that it prevails in every life .' 
 that it reigns in every heart ? Alas, the avowed 
 infidelity, the profanation of the name and day of 
 
 God, the drunkenness, the lewdness, the injustice, 
 the falsehood, the pride, the prodigality, the base 
 selfishness, and stupid insensibility of the spiritual 
 and eternal interests of themselves and others, which 
 so generally appear among us, loudly proclaim the 
 contrarj. So that one would imagine upon this 
 view, that thousands and ten thousands thought the 
 neglect, and even the contempt, of religion were a 
 glory, rather than a reproach. And where is the 
 neighbourhood, where is the society, where is the 
 happy family, (consisting of any considerable num- 
 ber,) in which, on a more exact examination, we 
 find reason to say, " Religion fills even this little 
 circle There is perhaps a freedom from any 
 gross and scandalous immoralities, an external 
 decency of behaviour, an attendance on the out- 
 ward fonns of worship in public, and (here and 
 there) in the family ; yet, amidst all this, there is 
 nothing which looks like the genuine actions of the 
 spiritual and divine life. There is no appearance 
 of love to God, no reverence for his presence, no 
 desire of his favours as the highest good : there is 
 no cordial belief of the gospel of salvation; no 
 eager solicitude to escape that condemnation 
 which we have incurred by sin ; no hearty concern 
 to secure that eternal life, wliich Clirist has pur- 
 chased and secured for his people, and wliich he 
 freely promises to all who will receive him. Alas ! 
 whatever the love of a friend, or even a parent, 
 can do ; whatever inclination there may be, to hope 
 all things, and believe all things the most favour- 
 able ; evidence to the contrary will force itself 
 upon tiie mind, and extort tlic unwilling conclusion, 
 that, whatever else may be amiable in tliis dear 
 friend, in that favourite child, " Religion dwells 
 not in its breast." 
 
 § 3. To a heart that firmly believe? the gospel, 
 and views persons and things in the light of eter- 
 nity, this is one of the most mournful considera- 
 tions ill the world. And indeed, to such a one, all 
 
8 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 other calamitios and evils of liuinan nature ap- 
 pear trilles, when eonipared with this ; tlie ahsenee 
 of real religion, anil that eontrariety to it, whieh 
 reigns in so many thousands of mankind. Let this 
 be eured, and all the other evils will easily be 
 borne ; nay, good will be extracted out of them. 
 But if this continue, it brinytth forth fruit unto 
 death : and in consiMiucnce of it, multitudes, who 
 .share the entertainments of an indulgent provi- 
 dence with us, and are at least allied to us by the 
 bond of the same common nature, must in a few 
 years be swept away into utter destruction, and be 
 plunged, beyond redemption, into everlasting burn- 
 ings. 
 
 § 4. 1 doubt not but there are many, under those 
 various forms of religious profession whieh have 
 so unhappily divided us in this nation, who arc not 
 only lamenting this in public, if their office in life 
 calls them to an opportunity of doing it ; but are 
 likewise mourning before God in secret, under a 
 sense of this sad state of things ; and who can ap- 
 peal to him that searches all hearts, as to the sin- 
 cerity of their desires to revive the languishing 
 cause of vital Christianity and substantial piety. 
 And, among the rest, the author of this treatise 
 may with confidence say, it is this whieh animates 
 him to the present attempt, in the midst of so many 
 other cares and labours. For this he is willing to 
 lay aside many of those curious amusements in 
 science whieh might suit his own private taste, 
 and perhaps open a way for some reputation in the 
 learned world. For this he is willing to wave the 
 laboured ornaments of speech, that he may, if pos- 
 sible, descend to the capacity of the lowest part of 
 mankind. For this he would endeavour to con- 
 vince the judgment, and to reach the heart, of every 
 reader ; and, in a word, for this, without any dread 
 of the name of an enthusiast, whoever may at ran- 
 dom throw it out upon the occasion, he would, as it 
 were, enter with you into your closet, from day to 
 day ; and, with all plainness and freedom, as well 
 as seriousness, would discourse to you of the great 
 things wiii(;li he has learnt from the Christian 
 revelation, and on which he assuredly knows your 
 everlasting happiness to depend : that if you hitherto 
 have lived without religion, yon may be now 
 awakened to the consideration of it, and may be 
 instructed in its nature and importance ; or that if 
 you are already, through divine grace, experiment- 
 ally acquainted with it, you may be assisted to 
 make a further progress. 
 
 § 5. But he earnestly entreats this favour of you, 
 that, as it is plainly a serious business wc are 
 entering upon, you would be pleased to give him a 
 serious and an attentive hearing. He entreats that 
 these addresses, and these meditations, may be 
 perused at leisure, and be thought over in retire- 
 ment ; and that you would do him and yourself the 
 
 justice to believe the representations which arc 
 here made, and the warnings v\hich are here given, 
 to proceed from sincerity and love ; from a heart, 
 which would not designedly give one moment's 
 unnecessary pain to the meanest creature on the 
 face of the earth, and much less to any human 
 mind. If he be importunate, it is because he at 
 least imagines that there is just reason for it; and 
 fears, lest amidst the mulliludes who are undone 
 by the utter neglect of religion, and among those 
 who are greatly damaged for want of a more reso- 
 lute and constant attendance to it, this may be the 
 case of some into whose hands this treatise may fall. 
 
 § 6. He is a barbarian, and deserves not to be 
 called a man, who can look upon the sorrows of his 
 fellow-creatures without draw ing out his soul unto 
 them, and wishing, at least, that it were in the 
 power of his hand to help them. Surely earth 
 would be a heaven to that man, who could go about 
 from place to place scattering happiness whereso- 
 ever he came, though it were only the body that he 
 were capable of relieving, and though he could 
 impart nothing better than the happiness of a mor- 
 tal life. But the happiness rises in proportion to 
 the nature and degree of the good which he imparts. 
 Happy, are we ready to say, were those honoured 
 servants of Christ, who, in the early days of his 
 church, were the benevolent and sympathizing in- 
 struments of conveying miraculous healing to those 
 whose cases seemed desperate ; who poured in 
 upon the blind and the deaf the pleasures of light 
 and sound, and called up the dead to the powers of 
 action and enjoyment. But this is an honour and 
 happiness whieh it is not fit for God commonly to 
 bestow on mortal men. Yet there have been in 
 every age, and, blessed be his name, there still are 
 those, whom he has condescended to make his in- 
 struments in conveying nobler and more lasting 
 blessings than these to their fellow-creatures. Death 
 hath long since veiled the eyes, and stopped the 
 ears, of those who were the subjects of miraculous 
 healing, and recovered its empire over those who 
 were once recalled from the grave. But the souls 
 who were prevailed upon to receive the gospel, live 
 for ever. God has owned the labours of his faith- 
 ful ministers in every age, to produce these blessed 
 effects; and some of them being dead, yet speak 
 with power and success in this important cause. 
 Wonder not then if, living and dying, I be ambi- 
 tious of this honour ; and if my mouth be freely 
 opened where I can truly say, my heart is enlarged. 
 
 § 7. In forming my general plan, I have been 
 solicitous that tliis little treatise might, if possible 
 be useful to all its readers, and contain something 
 suitable to each. I will therefore take the man and 
 the Christian in a great variety of ciicumstances. I 
 will first suppose myself addressing one of the vast 
 number of thoughtless creatures, who have hitherto 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 been utterly uneoncci ncd about religion ; and will try 
 what can be done, by all plainness and earnestness 
 of address, to awaken him from this fatal lethargy, 
 to a care, (Chap. 2.) an affectionate and an immediate 
 care, about it. (Chap. 3. ) I will labour to (ix a deep 
 and awful conviction of guilt upon his conscience, 
 (Chap. 4.) and to strip him of his vain excuses and his 
 flattering hopes. (Chap. 5.) I will read to him, Oh ! 
 that I could fix on his heart that sentence, that 
 dreadful sentence, which a righteous and an al- 
 mighty God hath denounced against him as a sinner ; 
 (Chap. 6.) and endeavour to show him in how 
 helpless a state he lies under this condemnation, as 
 to any capacity he has of delivering himself. (Chap. 
 7.) But I do not mean to leave any in so terrible 
 a situation : I will joyfully proclaim the glad tidings 
 of pardon and salvation by Christ Jesus our Lord, 
 which is all the support and confidence of my own 
 .soul : (Chap. 8.) and then I will give some gene- 
 ral view of the way by which this salvation is to be 
 obtained ; (Chap. 9.) urging the sinner to accept of 
 it, as affectionately as I can ; (Chap. 10.) though 
 nothing can be sufficiently pathetic, where, as in this 
 matter, the life of an immortal soul is in question. 
 
 5i 8. Too probable it is, that some will, after all 
 this, remain insensible ; and therefore, that their 
 sad ease may not encumber the following articles, I 
 shall here take a solemn leave of them: (Chap. 11.) 
 and then shall turn and address myself, as compas- 
 sionately as I can, to a most contrary character ; I 
 mean, to a soul overwhelmed with a sense of the 
 greatness of its sins, and trembling under the bur- 
 then, as if there were no more hope for him in God. 
 (Chap. 12.) And that nothing may be omitted, 
 which may give solid peace to the troubled spirit, 
 I shall endeavour to guide its inquiries as to tiic 
 evidences of sincere repentance and faith ; (Chap. 
 13.) which will be further illustrated by a more par- 
 ticular view of the several branches of the Christian 
 temper, such as may serve at once to assist the 
 reader in judging what he is, and to .show him what 
 he should labour to be. (Chap. 14.) This will 
 naturally lead to a view of the need we have of the 
 influences of the blessed Spirit, to assist us in the 
 Important and dillicult work of the true Christian ; 
 and of the encouragement we have fo hope for his 
 divine assistance. (Chap. In an humble depen- 
 dence on which, I shall then enter on the consider- 
 ation of several cases which often occur in the 
 Christian life, in which particular addresses to the 
 conscience may be requisite and useful. 
 
 ^ 9. As some particular difficulties and discou- 
 ragements attend the first entrance on a religious 
 course, it will here be our first care to animate the 
 young convert against them. (Cliap. 16.) And that 
 it may be done more effectually, I shall urge a 
 solemn dedication of himself to God, (Chap. 17.) 
 to be confirnicd by entering into the full communion 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 9 
 
 of the church by an approach fo the sacred table. 
 (Chap. 18.) That these engagements may be more 
 happily fulfilled, we shall endeavour to draw a more 
 particular plan of that devout, regular, and accurate 
 course, which ought daily to be attended to : (Chap. 
 
 19. ) and because the idea will probably rise so much 
 higher than what is the general practice, even of 
 good men, we shall endeavour to persuade the reader 
 to make the attempt, hard as it may seem ; (Chap. 
 
 20. ) and shall caution him against various tempt- 
 ations, which might otherwise draw him aside to 
 negligence and sin. (Chap. 21.) 
 
 § 10. Happy will it be for the reader, if these 
 exhortations and cautions be attended to with be- 
 coming regard ; but as it is, alas, too probable that, 
 notwithstanding all, the infirmities of nature will 
 sometimes prevail, we shall consider the ease of 
 deadness and languor in religion, which often steals 
 upon us by insensible degrees ; (Chap. 22.) from 
 whence there is too easy a passage to that terrible 
 one of a return into known and deliberate sin. 
 (Chap. 23.) And as the one or the other of these 
 tends, in a proportionable degree, to provoke the 
 blessed God to hide his face, and his injured Spirit 
 to withdraw, that melancholy condition will be 
 taken into a particular survey. (Chap. 24.) I shall 
 then take notice also of the case of great and heavy 
 afflictions in life; (Chap. 2,'j.) a discipline which 
 the best of men have reason to expect, especially 
 when they backslide from God, and yield to their 
 spiritual enemies. 
 
 § 11. Instances of this kind will, 1 fear, be too 
 frequent ; yet, I trust, there will be many others, 
 whose path, like the dawning light, will shine more 
 and more until the perfect day. And therefore we 
 shall endeavour, in the best manner we can, to 
 assist the Christian in passing a true judgment on 
 the growth of grace in his heart ; (Chap. 26.) as we 
 had done before in judging of its sincerity. And 
 as nothing conduces more to the advance of grace, 
 than the lively exercise of love to God, and a holy 
 joy in him, we shall here rcnund the real Christian 
 of those mercies, which tend to excite that love and 
 joy ; (Chap. 27.) and, in tlie views of them, to ani- 
 mate him to those vigorous efforts of usefulness in 
 life, which so well become his character, and will 
 have so happy an efficacy in brightening his crown. 
 (Chap. 28.) Supposing him to act accordingly, we 
 shall then labour to illustrate and assist the delight 
 with whieli he may look forward to the awful so- 
 lemnities of death and judgment; (Cha[). 29.) and 
 shall close the scene by accompanying him, as it 
 were, fo flie nearest confines of that dark valley, 
 through which he is to pass to glory ; giving him 
 suc'h directions, as may seem most subservient to 
 his honouring (Jod, and adorning religion, by his 
 dying behaviour. (Chap. 30.) Nor am I without a 
 pleasing hope, that, through the divine blessing and 
 
10 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 graoe, I may bo in sonic instances so siioeessfiil, us 
 to leave those triuniphiiii;; in the views of jndf^iuent 
 and eternity, and sloril'ying God by ii truly Chris- 
 tian lite and death, whom I found trembling in the 
 apprehensions oi" future misery ; or perhaps in a 
 nnich more (lanf;erous and miserable eircumstauce 
 than tliat ; 1 mean, entirely forsettinp' the prospect, 
 and sunk into the most stupid insensiijilily, of those 
 things, for an attendance to which the human mind 
 was formed, and in comparison of which, all the 
 pursuits of this transitory life are emptier than 
 wind, and lighter than a feather. 
 
 § 12. Such a variety of heads must, to be sure, 
 be handled but briefly, as we intend to bring them 
 within the bulk of a moderate volume. I shall not, 
 therefore, discuss them, as a preacher might properly 
 do in sermons, in which the truths of religion are 
 professedly to be explained and taught, defended 
 and improved, in a wide variety and long detail of 
 propositions, arguments, objections, replies, and 
 inferences, marshalled and numbered under their 
 distinct generals, I shall here speak in a looser and 
 freer manner, as a friend to a friend ; just as I would 
 do, if I were to be in person admitted to a private 
 audience, by one whom I tenderly loved, and whose 
 circumstances and character I knew to be like that 
 which the title of one chapter or another of this 
 treatise describes. And when I have discoursed 
 with him a little while, which will seldom be so 
 long as half an hour, I shall, as it were, step aside, 
 and leave him to meditate on what he has heard, or 
 endeavour to assist him in such fervent addresses to 
 God, as it may be proper to mingle with those 
 meditations. In the mean time, [ will here take the 
 liberty to pray over my reader and my \\ ork ; and 
 to eouvmend it solemnly to the divine blessing, in 
 token of my deep conviction of an entire depend- 
 ence upon it. And I am well persuaded, that 
 sentiments like these are common, in the general, to 
 every faithful minister, to every real Christian. 
 
 A Prayer for the success of this tcorh, in promoting 
 the rise and progress of religion. 
 
 "On thou great eternal Original and Author of all 
 created being and happiness ! I adore tliee who hast 
 made man a creature capable of religion, and hast 
 bestowed this dignity and felicity upon our nature, 
 that it may be taught to say, Where is God our 
 Maker? I lament that degeneracy spread over the 
 whole human race, which has turned our glory into 
 shame, and has rendered the forgetfulness of God 
 (unnatural as it is) so common and so universal a 
 disease. Holy Father, we know that it is thy pre- 
 sence and thy teaching alone, that can reclaim thy 
 wandering children ; can impress a sense of divine 
 things on the heart, and render that sense lasting 
 and effectual. From thee proceed all good pur- 
 
 l)oses and desires ; and this desire above all, of dif- 
 fusing wisdom, piety, and happiness, in this world, 
 which (though sunk in such deep apostasy) thine 
 infinite mercy has not utterly forsaken. 
 
 "Thou knowest, O Lord, the hearts of the children 
 of men ; and an upright soul in the midst of all the 
 censures and suspicions it may meet with, rejoices 
 in thine intimate knowledge of its most secret re- 
 cesses and principles of action. Thou knowest the 
 sincerity and fervency with which thine unworthy 
 servant desires to spread the knowledge of thy 
 name, and the 'savour of thy gospel, among all to 
 whom this work may reach. Thou knowest, that 
 hadst thou given him an abundance of this world, 
 it would have been in his esteem the noblest plea- 
 sure tliat abundance could have all'ordcd, to have 
 been thine almoner, in distributing thy bounties to 
 the indigent and necessitous, and so causing the 
 sorrowful heart to rejoice in thy goodness, dispensed 
 through his hands. Thou knowest, that hadst thou 
 given him, either by ordinary or extraordinary me- 
 thods, the gifts of healing, it would have been his 
 daily delight to relieve the pains, the maladies, and 
 the infirmities of men's bodies ; to have seen the 
 languishing countenance brightened by returning 
 healtli and cheerfulness ; and much more, to have 
 beheld the roving distracted mind reduced to calm- 
 ness and serenity, in the exercise of its rational 
 faculties. Yet happier, far happier, will he think 
 himself, in those humble circumstances, in which 
 thy providence hath placed him, if thou vouchsafe 
 to honour these his feeble endeavours, as the means 
 of relieving and enriching men's minds ; of recover- 
 ing them from the madness of a sinful state, and 
 bringing back thy reasonable creatures to the know- 
 ledge, the service, and the enjoyment of their God ; 
 or of improving those who arc already reduced. 
 
 " O may it have that blessed inlluence on the per- 
 son, whosoever he be, that is now reading these 
 lines, and on all who may read or hear them ! Let 
 not my Lord be angry, if I presume to ask, that how- 
 ever weak and contemptible this work may seem in 
 the eyes of the children of this world, and however 
 imperfect it really be, as well as the author of it 
 unworthy, it may nevertheless live before thee, and 
 through a divine power, be mighty to produce the 
 rise and progress of religion in tlie minds of multi- 
 tudes, in distant places, and in generations yet to 
 come ! Impute it not, O God, as a culpable ambition, 
 if I desire, that whatever becomes of my name, 
 about which I would not lose one thought before 
 thee, this work, to which I am now applying myself 
 in thy strength, may be completed and propagated 
 far abroad ; that it may reach to those that are yet 
 unborn, and teach them thy name and thy praise, 
 when the author has long dwelt in the dust : that 
 so, when he shall appear before thee in the great 
 day of final account, his joy may be increased, and 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 his crown brightened, by numbers before unknown 
 to each other and to him ! But if this petition be too 
 great to be granted to one who pretends no claim, 
 but thy sovereign grace, to hope for being favoured 
 with the least, give him to be in thine Almighty hand 
 the blessed instrument of converting and saving 
 one soul : and if it be but one, and that the weak- 
 est and meanest of those who are capable of receiv- 
 ing this address, it shall be most thankfully accept- 
 ed as a rich recompence for all the thought and la- 
 bour it may cost ; and though it should be amidst 
 a thousand disappointments with respect to others, 
 yet it shall be the subject of immortal songs of 
 praise to thee, O blessed God, for and by every 
 soul whom, through the blood of Jesus and the grace 
 of thy Spirit, thou hast saved ; and everlasting ho- 
 nours shall be ascribed to the Father, to the Son, 
 and to thy Holy Spirit, by the innumerable com- 
 pany of angels, and by the general assembly and 
 church of the first-born iu heaven. Amen." 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 The careless sinner awakened. 
 
 It is too supposalile a case, that this trciitise may come into such 
 hands, $ I, 2. Since many, not grossly vicious, '.tiill under that cha- 
 racter,} "i, 4. A more particular illustration of this case, witli an ap. 
 peal to the reader, whether it be not liis own, } 5, G. Expostulation 
 with such,} 7—9. More particularly, (1.) From acknowledged prin- 
 ciples, relating to the nature of God, his univers;il presence, ai;cncy, 
 and perfc-ctions, } 10 — 12. (2.) From a view of personal obligations to 
 hiin, { 13. (.3.) From the danger of this neglect, when considered in its 
 aspect on a future state, } 14. An appeal to the conscience, asalready 
 convinced, } 1.5. Transition to the subject of the next chapter, } Hi. 
 The meditation of a sinner, who, having been long thoughtless, be- 
 gins to be awakened. 
 
 § 1. Shamefully and fatally as religion i.s neglected 
 in the world, yet, blessed be God, it has some sincere 
 disciples ; children of wisdo'ii, by whom, even in 
 this foolish and degenerate age, it is justified ; who, 
 having by divine grace been brought to the know- 
 ledge of God in Christ, have faithfully devoted 
 their hearts to him, and by a natural consequence, 
 arc devoting their lives to his service. Could I be 
 sure this treatise would fall into no hands but theirs, 
 my work would be shorter, easier, and pleasanter. 
 
 § 2. But among the thousands that neglect re- 
 ligion, it is more than possible that some of my 
 readers may be included ; and I am so deeply af- 
 fected with their unhappy case, that the temper of 
 my heart, as well as tlie proper method of my sub- 
 ject, leads me in the first place to address myself to 
 such ; to apply to every one of them ; and therefore 
 to you, O reader, whoever you are, who may come 
 under the denomination of a careless sinner. 
 
 § 3. Be not, I beseech you, angry at the name. 
 The physicians of souls must speak plainly, or they 
 may murder those whom they .should cure. I would 
 make no harsh and unreasonable .supposition, I 
 would charge you with nothing more tlian is abso- 
 lutely necessary to convince you that you are the 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 11 
 
 person to whom I speak. I will not, therefore, 
 imagine you to be a profane and abandoned profli- 
 gate. I will not suppose that you allow yourself to 
 blaspheme God, to dishonour his name by custom- 
 ary swearing, or grossly to violate his sabbath, or 
 commonly to neglect the solemnities of his public 
 worship; I will not imagine that you have injured 
 your neighbours, in their lives, their chastity, or 
 their possessions, either by violence or by fraud ; 
 or that you have scandalously debased the rational 
 nature of man by that vile intemperance, which 
 transforms us into the worst kind of brutes, or some- - 
 thing beneath them. 
 
 § 4. In opposition to all this, I will suppose that 
 you believe the existence and providence of God, 
 and the truth of Christianity, as a revelation from 
 him ; of which if you have any doubt, I must desire 
 that you would immediately seek your satisfaction 
 elsewhere. I say, immediately : because not to be- 
 lieve it, is in efl'ect to disbelieve it ; ard will make 
 your ruin equally certain, though perhaps it may 
 leave it less aggravated, than if contempt and oppo- 
 sition had been added to suspicion and neglect. 
 But supposing you to be a nominal Christian, and 
 not a deist or a sceptic, I will also suppose your 
 conduct among men to be not only blameless, but 
 amiable ; and that they who know you most inti- 
 mately inu.st acknowledge, that you are just and 
 sober, humane and courteous, compassionate and 
 liberal ; yet with all this, you may lack that one 
 thing on which your eternal happiness depends. 
 
 ^ 5. I beseech you, reader, whoever you are, that 
 you would now look seriously into your own heart, 
 and ask it this one plain (juestion, Am I truly re- 
 ligious ? Is the love of God the governing prin- 
 ciple of my life ? Do I walk under tlie sense of his 
 presence ? Do I converse with him from day to 
 <iay, in the exercise of prayer and praise '. And am 
 I, on the whole, making his service my business 
 and my delight, regarding him as my Master and 
 my Father ? 
 
 § 6. It is my present business only to address 
 myself to the person wliose conscience answers in 
 the negative. And I would address with equal 
 plainness, and equal freedom, to liigli and low, to 
 rich and poor : to you, who (as the Scripture with a 
 dreadful propriety expresses it) live without God 
 in the world ; and while in words and forms you 
 own God, deny him in your actions, and behave 
 yourselves in the main, (a few external ceremonies 
 only excepted,) ju.st as you would do, if you be- 
 lieved, and were sure, there was no God. Unhappy 
 creature, whoever you are! your own heart con- 
 demns you immediately ; and how much more that 
 God, who is greater than your heart, and knowetli 
 all things. He is in secret, as well as in public ; 
 and words cannot express the delight with whitsh 
 his children converse with him alone : but in secret 
 
12 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 you acknowledice Iiim not ; yon neither pniy to him 
 nor praise him in your retirements. Aeeounts, eor- 
 respondenees, studies nuiy often bring; you into 
 your eh)set ; but it" nothing but devotion were to be 
 transaeted there, it would be to you quite an un- 
 frequented place. And thus you go on from day to 
 day, in a continual forpetfulness of (Jod ; an<l are 
 as thoufihtless about religion, as if you had long 
 sinee demonstrated it to yourself that it « as a mere 
 dream. If, indeed, you arc siek, you will perliajis 
 cry to God for health ; in any extreme danger, you 
 will lift up your eyes and voice for deliverance : 
 but as for the pardon of sin, and the other blessings 
 of the gospel, you are not at all inwardly solicitous 
 about them ; though you profess to believe that the 
 gospel is divine, and the blessings of it eternal. 
 All your thoughts, and all your hours, arc divided 
 between tlie business and the anuisements of life ; 
 and if now and then an awful providence, or a 
 serious sermon or book, awakens you, it is but a 
 few days, or it may be a few hours, and you are the 
 same careless creature you ever were before. On 
 the whole, you act as if you were resolved to put it 
 to the venture, and at your own expense to make 
 the experiment, whether the con.Sequences of neg- 
 lecting religion be indeed as terrible as its ministers 
 and friends have represented. Their remonstrances 
 do indeed sometimes force themselves upon you, as 
 (considering the age and country in which you live) 
 it is hardly possible entirely to avoid them ; but you 
 have, it may Le, found out the art of Isaiah's peo- 
 ple, hearing to hear, and not to understand ; and 
 seeing to see, and not to perceive : your heart is 
 waxed gross, your eyes are closed, and your ears 
 heavy. Under the very ordinances of worship, your 
 thoughts are at the ends of the earth. Every amuse- 
 ment of the imagination is welcome, if it may but 
 lead away your mind from so insipid and so dis- 
 agreeable a subject as religion. And probably tlie 
 very last time you were in a worshipping assembly, 
 you managed just as you would have done if you 
 had thought God knew nothing of your behaviour ; 
 or as if you did not think it worth one single care, 
 whether he were pleased or displeased with it. 
 
 § 7. Alas! is it then come to this, with all your 
 belief of God, and providence, and Scripture, that 
 religion is not worth a thought f That it is not worth 
 one hour's serious consideration and rcllcction, 
 "what God and Christ are; and what you your- 
 selves are, and what you must hereafter be .'" Where 
 then are all your rational faculties ? how are they 
 employed, or rather, how are they stupified and be- 
 numbed ? 
 
 § 8. The certainty and importance of the things 
 of which I speak arc so evident, from the principles 
 whi(-li you yourselves grant, that one might almost 
 set a child or an idiot to reason upon them. And 
 yet they are neglected by those who arc grown up 
 
 to understanding, and perhaps some of them to sueli 
 relineinent of understanding, that tiiey would tliink 
 themselves greatly injured, if they were not to. be 
 reckoned among the politer, and the more learned, 
 part of mankind. 
 
 § !). lJut it is not your neglect, sirs, that can 
 destroy tlic being or ini()ortance of sueli things as 
 these. It may indeed destroy you, but it cannot in 
 the least affect them. Permit mc, therefore, having 
 been myself awakcne<l, to come to each of you, and 
 say, as the mariners did to Jonah, while asleep in 
 the midst of a much less dangerous storm. What 
 meanest thou, O sleeper? Arise, and call upon thy 
 God. Do you doubt as to the reasonableness or 
 necessity of doing it ! I will demand, and answer 
 me ; answer me to your own conscience, as one t.'iat 
 must, ere long, render another kind of account. 
 
 § 10. You own that there is a (Jod, and well you 
 may ; for you cannot open your eyes, but you must 
 see the evident proofs of his being, liis presence, 
 and his agency. You beliobi liini around you in 
 e\evy object. You feel him within you, if 1 may so 
 speak, in every vein, and in every nerve. You see, 
 and you feel, not only that he hatii formed you witli 
 an exquisite wisdom, which no mortal man could 
 ever fully explain or comprehend, but that he is 
 continually near you, wherever you are, and how- 
 ever you arc employed, by day, or by niglit ; in him 
 you live, and move, and have your being. Common 
 sense will tell you, that it is not your own wisdom, 
 and power, and attention, that causes your heart to 
 beat, and your blood to circulate ; that draws in, 
 and send.s out, that breath of life, that precarious 
 breath of a most uncertain life, that is in your 
 nostrils. These things are done when you sleep, as 
 well as in tliose waking moments, when you think 
 not of the circulation of the blood, or of the neces- 
 sity of breathing, nor so much as to recollect tiiat 
 you have a heart and lungs. Now wiiat is this, but 
 the hand of God, perpetually supporting and ac- 
 tuating those curious machines that he has made ! 
 
 § 11. Nor is this his care limited to you; but if 
 you look all around you, far as your view can reach, 
 you see it extending itself on every side : and oh 
 how much further than >ou can trace it ! Reflect on 
 the light and heat, which the sun every where dis- 
 penses ; on the air, which surrounds all our globe, 
 on the right temperature of which the life of the 
 whole human race depends, and that of all the 
 inferior creatures which dwell on the earth. Think 
 of the suitable and plentiful provision made for man 
 and beast : the grass, the grain, the variety of fruits, 
 and herbs, and ilowers ; every thing that nourishes 
 us, every thing that deligiits us; and say, whether 
 it do not speak plainly and loudly, that our Al- 
 mighty Maker is near, and that he is careful of us, 
 and kind to us. And while all these things proclaim 
 his goodness, do thoy not also proclaim his power ? 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 For what power is any thing comparable to that, 
 wliich furnishes out those gifts of royal bounty; and 
 which, unwearied and unchanged, produces con- 
 tinually, from day to day, and from age to age, such 
 astonishing and magnificent effects over the face of 
 the whole earth, and through all the regions of 
 heaven ! 
 
 § 12. It is then evident, that God is present, pre- 
 sent with you at this moment ; even God your crea- 
 tor and preserver, God the creator and preserver of 
 the whole visible and invisible world. And is he 
 not present as a most observant and attentive being ? 
 He that fornied the eye, shall not he see ? He that 
 planted the ear, shall not he hear ? He that teaches 
 man knowledge, that gives him his rational facul- 
 ties, and pours in upon his opening mind all the 
 light it receives by them, shall not he know ? He 
 who sees all the necessities of his creatures so 
 seasonably to provide for them, shall he not see their 
 actions too? and seeing, shall he not judge them? 
 Has he given us a sense and discernment of what is 
 good and evil, of what is true and false, of what is 
 fair and deformed, in temper and conduct ? and has 
 he himself no discernment of these things ? Trifle 
 not with your conscience, which tells you at once, 
 that he judges of it, and approves or condemns, as 
 it is decent or indecent, reasonable or unreasonable ; 
 and that the judgment which he passes is of infinite 
 importance to all his creatures. 
 
 § 13. And now, to apply all this to your ow n 
 case, let me seriously ask you. Is it a decent and 
 reasonable thing, that this great and glorious Bene- 
 factor should be neglected by his rational creatures? 
 by those, that are capable of attaining to some 
 knowledge of him, and presenting to liim some 
 homage ? Is it decent and rcasonal)Ie, that he should 
 be forgotten and neglected by you ? Are you alone, 
 of all the works of his hands, forgotten or neglected 
 by him? Oh sinner, thoughtless as you arc, you 
 cannot dare to say that, or even to think it. You 
 need not go back to the helpless days of your in- 
 fancy and childhood, to convince you of the con- 
 trary. You need not, in order to this, recollect 
 the remarkal)le deliverances, which, perhaps, were 
 wrought out for you many years ago. The repose 
 of the last night, the refreshment and comfort you 
 have received this day ; yea, the mercies you arc 
 receiving this very moment, bear witness to him ; 
 and yet you regard him not. Ungrateful creature 
 that you are! Could you have treated any human 
 benefactor thus? Could you have borne to neglect 
 a kind parent, or any generous friend, that hatl but 
 a few months acted the part of a parent to you? to 
 have taken no notice of him, while in his presence ; 
 to have returned him no thanks ; to have had no 
 contrivances to make some little acknowledgment 
 for all his goodness ? Human nature, bad as it is, is 
 not fallen so low. Nay, the brutal nature is not so 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 13 
 
 low as this. Surely every domestic animal round 
 you must shame such ingratitude. If you do but 
 for a few days take a little kind notice of a dog, 
 and feed him with the refuse of your table, he will 
 wait upon you, and love to be near you ; he will be 
 eager to follow you from place to place, or when, 
 after a little absence, you return home, will try by 
 a thousand fond transported motions, to tell you 
 how much he rejoices to see you again. Nay, 
 brutes far less sagacious and apprehensive, have 
 some sense of our kindness, and express it after 
 their way : as the blessed God condescends to ob- 
 serve, in this very view in which I mention it. 
 The dull ox knows its owner, and the stupid ass his 
 master's crib : w hat lamentable degeneracy there- 
 fore is it, that you do not know, that you, who have 
 been numbered among God's professing people, do 
 not, and w ill not, consider your numberless obliga- 
 tions to him ? 
 
 § 14. Surely, if you have any ingenuity of tem- 
 per, you must be ashamed and grieved in the re- 
 view : but if you have not, give me leave further to 
 expostulate with you on this head, by setting it in 
 something of a different light. Can you think your- 
 selves safe, while you are acting a part like this ? 
 Do you not in your conscience believe, there 
 will be a future judgment! Do you not believe 
 there is an invisible and eternal w orld ? As professed 
 Christians, we all believe it ; for it is no contro- 
 verted point, but displayed in Scripture with so 
 clear an evidence, that, subtle and ingenious as 
 men are in error, they have not yet found out a way 
 to evade it. And believing this, do you not see, 
 that while you are thus wandering from God, de- 
 struction and misery arc in your ways? Will lhi.-3 
 indolence and negligence of temper be any security 
 to you? Will it guard you from death ? Will it 
 excuse you from judgment ? You might much more 
 reasonably expect, that shutting your eyes would 
 be a defence against the rage of a devouring lion ; 
 or that looking another way should secure your 
 body from being pierced by a bullet or a sword. 
 When God speaks of the extravagant folly of some 
 thoughtless creatures, who would hearken to no 
 admonition, now he adds, in a very awful manner : 
 In the latter day they shall consider it perfectly. 
 And is not this applicable to you? Must you not, 
 sooner or later, be brought to think of these things, 
 whether you will or not? And, in the meantime, 
 do you not certainly know, that timely and serious 
 reflection upon them is, through divine grace, the 
 only way to prevent your ruin ? 
 
 § 1.0. Yes, sinner, I need not multiply words on a 
 subject like this. Your conscience is already in- 
 wardly convinced, though your pride may be un- 
 willing to own it. And, to prove it, let me ask you 
 one question more : Would you, upon any terms and 
 considerations whatever, come to a resolution ab- 
 
14 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 solutely to dismiss all riiitlior tliouiiiit of rclifiion, 
 and nil care about it. f'ntiu this day and hour, and 
 to abide by the consequences of that ne};leet .' I be- 
 lieve hardly any man living would be bold enough to 
 determine upon this. 1 believe most of my readers 
 would be ready to tremble at the thought of it. 
 
 ^ 1(). Hut if it be neeessary to take these thinajs 
 into consideration at all, it is necessary to do it 
 quickly ; for life itself is not so very Ions, "O'" 
 certain, that a wise man should risk much u|)()n ils 
 continuance. And I hope to convince you, when t 
 have another hearinjs, that it is necessary to do it 
 immediately ; and that, next to the madness of rc- 
 solvina:, you will not think of relitfion at all, is that of 
 saying;, you will think of it hereafter. In the mean 
 time, pause on the hints whicli liavc been already 
 Siven, and they will prepare you to receive what is 
 to be added on that head. 
 
 77ie Meditation of a sinner irlio u nsoncr thovf/htlcss, 
 but beffins to be awahinril. 
 
 " Awake, oli my forgetful soul, awake from these 
 wandering dreams. Turn Ihce from this chacc of 
 vanity, and for a little while be persuaded by all 
 these considerations, to look forward, and lo look 
 upward, at least for a few moments. Sullicient are 
 the hours and days given to the labours and anuise- 
 ments of life. Grudge not a short allotment of 
 minutes, to view thyself, and thine own more imme- 
 diate concerns ; to reflect who and what thou art ; 
 how it comes to pass that thou art here, and what 
 thou must quickly be ! 
 
 " It is indeed, as thou hast seen it now repre- 
 sented, oh my soul ! Thou art the creature of God ; 
 fomied and furnislied by him, and lodged in a 
 body which he provided, and which he supports ; 
 a body, in which he intended thee only a transitory 
 abode. Oh, think how soon this tabernacle must 
 be dissolved, and thou must return to God! And 
 shall he, the one infinite, eternal, ever-blessed, and 
 ever-glorious Being, sliall he be least of all re- 
 garded by thee ? Wilt thou live and die with this 
 character, saying by every action of every day unto 
 God, Depart from me, for I desire not the know- 
 ledge of thy ways ? The morning, the day, the 
 evening, the night, eveiy period of time, has its ex- 
 cuses for this neglect. But, oh my soul, what will 
 these excuses appear, when examined by his pene- 
 trating eye ? They may delude me ; but they cannot 
 impose upon hirn ! 
 
 " Oh thou injured, neglected, provoked Bene- 
 factor ! When I think, but for a moment or two, of 
 all thy greatness, and of all thy goodness, I am 
 astonished at this insensibility, which hath prevail- 
 ed in mine heart, and even still prevails. I blush 
 and am confounded to lift up my face before thee. 
 On the most transient review, I see that I have 
 
 played the fool, thai I have erred exceedingly. And 
 yet this stupid heart of mine would make its having 
 neglected thee so long a reason for going on to 
 neglect thee. I own it might justly he expected, 
 that, with regard to'thee, every one of thy rational 
 creatures should be all <luty and love ; that each 
 heart should be full of a sense of thy presence; 
 and that a care to iilease thee should swallow up 
 every other care. Yet thou hast not been in all my 
 thoughts ; and religion, the end and glory of my 
 nature, has been so strangely overlooked, that I 
 have hardly ever seriously asked my own heart, 
 what it is. I know, if matters rest here, I perish, 
 and yet I feel, in my perverse nature, a secret indis- 
 position to pursue these thoughts ; a proncness, 
 if not entirely to dismiss them, yet to lay them aside 
 for the present. My mind is perplexed and divided ; 
 but I am sure thou, who madest me, knowest what 
 is best for me. I therefore beseech thee, that thou 
 wilt, for thy name's sake, lead me and guide me. 
 Let me not delay till it is for ever too late. Pluck 
 me as a brand out of the burning. Oh, break this 
 fatal enchantment that holds down my affection to 
 objects, which my judgmentcomparafively despises! 
 And let me, at length, come into so happy a state 
 of mind, that I may not be afraid to think of thee, 
 and of myself ; and may not be tempted to wish 
 that thou hadst not made me, or that thou eouldst 
 for ever forget me ; that it may not be my best hope, 
 to perish like the brutes. 
 
 " If what I .shall further read here, be agreeable 
 to truth and reason ; if it be calculated to promote 
 my happiness, and is to be regarded as an intima- 
 tion of thy will and pleasure to me ; O God, let me 
 hear and obey! Let the words of thy servant, when 
 pleading thy cause, be like goads to pierce into my 
 mind ! and let me rather feel, and smart, than die ! 
 Let them be as nails fastened in a sure place : that 
 whatever mysteries are as yet unknown, or what- 
 ever difficulties there be in religion, if it be neces- 
 sary, I may not finally neglect it ; and that if it be 
 expedient to attend immediately to it, I may no 
 longer delay that attendance ! And oh let thy grace 
 teach me the lesson I am so slow to learn, and 
 conquer that strong opposition, which I feel in my 
 heart, against the very thought of it ! Hear these 
 broken cries, for the sake of thy Son, who has taught 
 and saved many a creature as untractable as I, and 
 can out of stones raise up children to Abraham !" 
 Amen. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The awahened sinner urged to immediate considera- 
 tion, and cautioned against delay. 
 
 Sinners wlien awakened, inclinable to dismiss convictions for tlie pre. 
 sent, } 1. An immediate regard to religion urged, { 2. (1.) From tlic 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 excellency ami plcasureof the thing itself, } 3. (2.) From tlic uucer- 
 fciinty of that future time ou which sinners presume, compareil witli 
 the sad consequences of heing cut off in sin, 5 4. (3.) From the immu- 
 tability of Gcid's present demands, { 5. (1.) From the tendency, 
 whicli delay has, to make a compliance with these demands more 
 difficult than it is at present, 5 G. (5.) From tlie danger of God s 
 witlidrawing his Spirit, compared with tlie dreadful case of a sinner 
 given up by it, { 7. Which probably is now tlie case with many, 
 5 8. Since therefore, on the whole, whatever the event be, delays 
 may prove matter of lamentation, ? 9. the chapter concludes with 
 an exliortation agaiust yielding to them ; } 10. and a prayer against 
 temptations of that kind. 
 
 § 1. I HOPE my last address so far awakened the 
 convictions of my reader, as to bring him to this 
 purpose, " That some time or other he would attend 
 to religious considerations." But give me leave to 
 ask earnestly and punctually, "When that shall be?" 
 " Go thy way for this time, and at a more convenient 
 season I will send for thee," was the language, and 
 the ruin, of unhappy Felix, when he trembled under 
 the reasonings and expostulations of the apostle. 
 The tempter presumed not to urge that he should 
 give up all thoughts of repentance and reformation ; 
 but only that, considering the present hurry of his 
 affairs, (as no doubt they were many,) he should de- 
 fer it to a longer day. The artifice succeeded, and 
 Felix was undone. 
 
 § 2. Will you, reader, dismiss me thus? For your 
 own sake, and out of tender compassion to your 
 perishing immortal soul, I would not willingly take 
 up with such a dismission and excuse. No, not 
 though you shall fix a time ; though you shall de- 
 termine on the next year, or month, or week, or day. 
 I would turn upon j'ou with all the eagerness and 
 tenderness of friendly importunity, and entreat you 
 to bring the matter to an issue even now. For if 
 you say, " I will think on these things to-morrow," 
 I shall have but little hope ; and shall conclude, 
 that all that I have hitherto urged, and all that you 
 have read, have been offered and viewed in vain. 
 
 § .3. When I invited you to the care and practice 
 of religion, it may seem strange that it should be 
 necessary for me affectionately to plead the case 
 with you, in order to your immediate regard and 
 compliance. What I am inviting you to, is so noble 
 and excellent in itself, so well worthy the dignity of 
 our rational nature, so suitable to it, so manly, and 
 so wise, that one would imagine you should take 
 fire, as it were, at the first hearing of it ; yea, that 
 so delightful a view should presently possess your 
 whole .soul with a kind of indignation against your- 
 self tliat you pursued it no sooner. " May I lift up 
 my eyes and my soul to God ? May I devote my- 
 self to him ? May I even now commence a friendship 
 with him ; a friendship which shall last for ever, 
 the security, the delight, the glory of this immortal 
 nature of mine?" And sliall I draw back and say, 
 " Nevertheless let me not commence this friendship 
 too soon ? let me live at least a few weeks, or a few 
 days, longer without God in the world ?" Surely it 
 would be much more reasonable to return inward, 
 and say, " Oh my soul, on what vile husks hast 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 15 
 
 thou been feeding, while (hy heavenly Father has 
 been forsaken, and injured ! Shall I desire to multi- 
 ply the days of my poverty, my scandal, and my 
 misery?" On this principle, surely, an immediate 
 return to God should in all reason be chosen, rather 
 than to play the fool any longer, and to go on a 
 little more to displease God, and thereby to starve 
 and to wound your own soul ; even though your con- 
 tinuance in life were ever so certain, and your 
 capacity to return to God and your duty ever so 
 entirely in your own power now, and in every 
 future moment, through scores of years yet to come. 
 
 § 4. But who or what are you, that you should 
 lay your account for years or for months to come ? 
 What is your life ? Is it not even as a vapour, that 
 appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth 
 away? And what is your security, or what is your 
 peculiar warrant, that 3-ou should thus depend 
 upon the certainty of its continuance ? and that so 
 absolutely, as to venture, as it were, to pawn your 
 soul upon it ? Why, you will perhaps say, " I am 
 young, and in all my bloom and vigour, I see hun- 
 dreds about me, who are more than double my age, 
 and not a few of them, who seem to think it too 
 soon to attend to religion yet." — You view the 
 living, and you talk thus. But, I beseech you, think 
 of the dead. Return in your thoughts to those 
 graves in which you have left some of your young 
 companions and your friends. You saw them 
 awhile ago gay and active, warm with life, and 
 hopes, and schemes. And some of them would 
 have thought a friend strangely importunate, that 
 should have interrupted them in their business and 
 their pleasures, with a solemn lecture on death and 
 eternity. Yet they were then on the very borders 
 of both. You have since seen their (corpses, or at 
 least their coffins ; and probably carried about with 
 you the badges of mourning which jou received at 
 their funerals. Those once vigorous, and perhaps 
 beautiful, bodies of theirs, now lie mouldering in 
 the dust, as senseless and helpless as the most 
 decrcpid pieces of human nature, which fourscore 
 years ever brought down to it. And what is in- 
 finitely more to be regarded, their souls, whether 
 prepared for this great change, or thoughtless of it, 
 have made their appearance before God, and are at 
 this moment fixed either in heaven or in hell. Now 
 let me seriously ask you. Would it be miraiuilous, 
 or would it be strange, if such an event should be- 
 fall you ? How are you sure that some fatal disease 
 should not this day begin to work in your veins? 
 How are you sure that you shall ever be capable of 
 reading or thinking any more, if you do not attend 
 to what you now read, and pursue the thought 
 which is now offering itself to your mind ? This 
 sudden alteration may at least possibly happen ; 
 and if it does, it will be to you a terrii)le one in- 
 <leed. To be thus surprised into the presence of a 
 
THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 fornfotton Cod ; to he torn away, at once, fiom a 
 world, to which your whole heart and soul has bi-cn 
 rivi'ttcd ; a world w hirli has cng;rosscd all your 
 thouu;hts and cares, all your desires and pursuits ; 
 and he iixed in a state, which you never could be 
 so far persuaded to think of, as to spend so much 
 as one liour in serious preparation for it. How 
 must you even shudder at tiie apprehension of it, 
 and with what horror nuist it fill you ! It seems 
 matter of wonder, that, in such circumstances, you 
 are not almost distracted with tlic thou<?hts of the 
 uncertainty of life, and are not even ready to die 
 for fear of death. To trifle with God any longer, 
 after so solemn an admonition as this, would be a 
 circumstance of additional provocation, which, after 
 all the rest, might be fatal. Nor is there any tiling 
 you can expect in such a case, but that he should 
 cut you olf immediately, and teach other thoughtless 
 creatures, by your ruin, what a hazardous experi- 
 ment they make, w hen they act as you arc acting. 
 
 §5. And w ill you, after all, run this desperate 
 risk? For what imaginable purpose can you do 
 it ? Do you think the business of religion will be- 
 come less necessary, or more easy, by your delay ? 
 You know that it w ill not. You know, that what- 
 ever tlie blessed God demands now, he will also 
 demand twenty or tliirty years hence, if you should 
 live to see the time. God hath fixed this method, 
 in wliich he will pardon and accept sinners in his 
 gospel. And will he ever alter that method ? Or 
 if he will not, can men alter it ? You like not to 
 think of repenting, and humbling yourself before 
 God, to receive righteousness and life from his free 
 grace in Christ ; and you above all dislike the 
 thought of returning to God in the ways of holy 
 obedience. But will he ever dispense with any of 
 these, and publish a new gospel, with promises of 
 life and salvation to impenitent, unbelieving sin- 
 ners, if they w ill but call themselves Christians, and 
 submit to a few external rites ? How long do you 
 think you might wait for such a change in the con- 
 stitution of things? You know death will eonie 
 upon you ; and you cannot but know, in your own 
 conscience, that a general dissolution will come 
 upon the world, long before God can thus deny him- 
 self, and contradict all his perfections, and all his 
 declarations. 
 
 § C. Or if his demands continue the same, as they 
 assuredly w ill, do you think any thing w hich is now 
 disagreeable to you in them, will be less disagree- 
 able hereafter than it is at present? Shall you love 
 to sin less, when it is become more habitual to 
 you, and w hen conscience is yet more enfeebled and 
 debauched ? If you are running with the footmen 
 and fainting, shall you be able to contend with the 
 horsemen? Surely you cannot imagine it. You 
 would not say, in any distemper which threatened 
 your life, " I will stay till I grow a little worse, and 
 
 then I will apply to a pliysiiuan : I will let my 
 disease get a little more rooting in my vitals, and 
 then I w ill try what can be done to remove it." No, 
 it is only where the life of the soul is concerned that 
 men think thus wildly ; the life and health of the 
 body appear too precious to be thus trilled aw ay. 
 
 § 7. If after such desperate experiments you arc 
 ever recovered, it must be by an operation of divine 
 grace on your soul, yet more powerful and more 
 wonderful, in projjortion to the increasing invete- 
 racy of your spiritual maladies. And can you ex- 
 pect that the Holy Spirit should be more ready to 
 assist you, in consequence of your having so shame- 
 fully trifled with him and affronted him '. He is now, 
 in some measure, moving on your heart ; if you feci 
 any secret relcntings in it upon what you read, it is 
 a sign you are not yet utterly forsaken : but who 
 can tell whether tiiese are not the last touches he 
 will ever give to a heart so long hardened against 
 him ? Who can tell but God may this day swear in 
 his wrath that you shall not enter into his rest? I 
 have been telling you that you may immediately die. 
 You own it is possible you may. And can you think 
 of any thing more terrible? Yes, sinner, I will tell 
 you of one thing more dreadful than inmiediate death 
 and immediate damnation. The blessed God may 
 say, " As for that wretched creature who has so long 
 trifled with me, and provoked me, let him still live. 
 Let him live in the midst of prosperity and plenty. 
 Let him live under the purest and most powerful 
 ordinances of the gospel too ; that he may abuse 
 them to aggravate his condemnation, and die under 
 seven-fold guilt, and a seven-fold curse. I will not 
 give him the grace to think of his ways for one se- 
 rious moment more ; but he shall go on from bad to 
 worse, filling up the measure of his iniquities, till 
 death and destruction seize him in an unexpected 
 hour, and wrath come upon him to the uttermost." 
 
 § 8. You think this an uncommon case ; but I fear 
 it is much otherwise. I fear there are few congre- 
 gations where the word of God has been faithfully 
 preached, and where it has been long despised, 
 especially by those whom it had once awakened, in 
 which the eye of God does not see a number of such 
 wretched souls ; though it is impossible for us to 
 pronounce upon the ease who they are. 
 
 § 9. I pretend not to say how he will deal with you, 
 oh reader ! whether he will immediately cut you 
 off, or seal you up under final hardness and impeni- 
 tency of heart ; or whether his grace may at length 
 awaken you to consider your ways, and return to 
 him, even when your heart is grown yet more obdu- 
 rate than it is at present. For to his almighty grace 
 nothing is hard, not even to transform a rock of 
 marble into a man and a saint. But this I will con- 
 fidently say, that if you delay any longer, the time 
 will come when you will bitterly repent of that de- 
 lay, and either lament it before God in the anguish 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 of your heart here, or curse your own folly and mad- 
 ness in hell ; yea, when you will wish, that, dread- 
 ful as hell is, you had rather fallen into it sooner, 
 than have lived in the midst of so many abused mer- 
 cies, to render the degree of your punishment more 
 insupportable, and your sense of it more exquisitely 
 tormenting. 
 
 § 10. I do therefore earnestly exhort you, in the 
 name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the worth, and, 
 if I may so speak, by the blood, of your immortal and 
 perishing soul, that you delay not a day or an hour 
 longer. Far from giving sleep to your eyes or slum- 
 ber to your eyelids, in the continued neglect of this 
 important concern, take with you even now words, 
 and turn unto the Lord ; and before you quit the 
 place where you now are, fall upon your knees in 
 his sacred presence, and pour out your heart in 
 such language, or at least to such purpose, as 
 this. 
 
 A Prayer for one who is tempted to delay applying to 
 religion, though under some conviction of its import- 
 ance. 
 
 " Oh thou righteous and holy Sovereign of heaven 
 and earth ! Thou God, in whose hand my breath 
 is, and whose are all my ways ! I confess I have 
 been far from glorifying thee, or conducting myself 
 according to the intimations or the declarations of 
 thy will. I have, therefore, reason to adore thy for- 
 bearance and goodness, that thou hast not long 
 since stopped my breath, and cut me off from the 
 land of the living. I adore thy patience, that I have 
 not months and years ago been an inhabitant of hell ; 
 where ten thousand delaying sinners are now 
 lamenting their folly, and will be lamenting it for 
 ever. But, O God, how possible is it that this 
 trifling heart of mine may at length betray me into 
 the same ruin ! And then, alas, into a ruin aggra- 
 vated by all tliis patience and forbearance of thine ! 
 I am convinced that, sooner or later, religion must 
 be my serious care, or I am undone. And yet my 
 foolish heart draws back from the yoke. Yet I 
 stretch myself upon the bed of sloth, and cry out for 
 a little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little 
 more folding of the hands to sleep. Thus does my 
 corrupt heart plead for its own indulgence, against 
 the conviction of my better judgment. What shall 
 I say? O Lord, save me from myself! Save me 
 from the artifices and deceitfulness of sin ! Save me 
 from the treacherj' of this perverse and degenerate 
 nature of mine, and fix upon my mind what I have 
 now been reading ! 
 
 " O Lord, I am not now instructed in truths which 
 were before quite unknown. Often have I been 
 warned of the uncertainty of life, and of the greater 
 uncertainty of the day of salvation ; and I have 
 formed some light purposes, and have begun to take 
 c 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 17 
 
 a few irresolute steps in my way towards a return 
 to thee. But, alas ! I have been only, as it were, 
 fluttering about religion, and have never fixed upon 
 it. All my resolutions have been scattered like 
 smoke, or dispersed like a cloudy vapour before the 
 wind. O that thou wouldst now bring these things 
 home to my heart, with a more powerful conviction 
 than it hath ever yet felt ! O that thou wouldst pur- 
 sue me with them, even when I flee from them, if I 
 should ever grow mad enough to endeavour to escape 
 them any more ! May thy Spirit address me in the 
 language of effectual terror, and add all the most 
 powerful methods which thou knowest to be neces- 
 sary, to awaken me from this lethargy, which must 
 otherwise be mortal ! May the sound of these things 
 be in mine ears, when I go out, and when I come in, 
 when I lie down, and when I rise up ! And if the 
 repose of the night, and the business of the day, be 
 for a while interrupted by the impression, be it so, O 
 God ! if I may but thereby carry on my business 
 with thee to better purpose, and at length secure a 
 repose in thee, instead of all that terror which I now 
 find, when I think upon God, and am troubled. 
 
 " O Lord, my flesh trembleth for fear of thee, and I 
 am afraid of thy judgments ; I am afraid, lest even 
 now that I have begun to think of religion, thou 
 shouldst cut me oflT in this critical and important 
 moment, before my thoughts grow to any ripeness, 
 and blast in eternal death the first buddings and 
 openings of it in my mind. But O spare me, I 
 earnestly entreat thee ; for thy mercy's sake, spare 
 me a little longer ! It may be, through thy grace, I 
 shall return. It may be, if thou continuest thy 
 patience towards me a while longer, there may be 
 some better fruit produced by this cumberer of the 
 ground. And may the remembrance of that long 
 forbearance which thou hast already exercised 
 towards me, prevent my continuing to trifle with 
 thee and with my own soul ! From this day, O 
 Lord, from this hour, from this moment, may I be 
 able to date more lasting impressions of religion, than 
 have ever yet been made upon my heart, by all that 
 I have ever read, or all that I have heard ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The sinner arraigned and convicted. 
 
 Conviction of guilt necessary, ? I. A charge of rebellion against fiod 
 advanreO, } 2. AVliere it is.«liown, (I.) That all racn are born under 
 God's law, { .3. r2.) That no man halh perfectly kept it, \ 4. An 
 appeal to the rcaaer's conscience on this head, that he hath not, } .5, 
 (3.) That to have broken it is an evil inexpressibly great, } C. Il- 
 lustrated by a more particular view of the aggravations of tins guilt, 
 arising, [IJ From knowledge, { 7. [2] I'rom divine favour re- 
 ceived, } 8. [.3 ] From convictions of conscience overborne, } 9. [4 ] 
 From the strivings of God's Spirit resisted, } 10. [5.] From vows 
 and resolutions broken, } II. The charge summed up, and left upon 
 the sinner's conscience, J 12. The sinner's confession under a ge- 
 neral conviction of guilt. 
 
 ^ 1. As I am attempting to lead you to true reli- 
 gion, and not merely lo some superficial form of it, 
 
18 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 I am sensible I eaii do it no otlicrwise tlian in liie 
 «a\ til" deep liuniiliation. And tlieietbie, suppos- 
 ing you are persuaded, tlirougli the divine blessing 
 on « hat jou liave before read, to lake it into eon- 
 sideration, I would now endeavour, in tlie first 
 plaee, with all the seriousness I ean, to nuike you 
 heartily sensible of your nuilt before (Jod. For I 
 well know, that unless you are eon\inecd of (his, 
 and allected with tlu- eonvieticni, all the provisions 
 of f;()spel will be slighted, and your soul in- 
 
 fallibly destroyed in the inidst of the noblest means 
 appointed for its recovery. I am fully persuaded 
 that thousands live and die in a eourse of sin with- 
 out feelin<!: upon their hearts any sense that they 
 are sinners ; though they cannot for shame but own 
 it in words. And therefore let me deal faithfully 
 w ith you, though I may seem to deal roughly ; for 
 complaisance is not to give law to addresses in 
 which the life of your soul is concerned. 
 
 § 2. Permit me therefore, O sinner, to consider 
 myself at this time as an advocate of God ; as one 
 employed in his name, to plead against thee, and to 
 charge tUee with nothing less than being a rebel 
 and a traitor against the sovereign Majesty of 
 heaven and earth. However thou mayst be dig- 
 nified or distinguished among men ; if the noblest 
 blood run in thy veins ; if thy seat were among 
 princes, and thy ann were the terror of the mighty 
 in the land of the living ; it would be necessary 
 thou shouldst be told, and told plainly, thou hast 
 broken the laws of the King of kings, and by the 
 breach of it art beeome obnoxious to his righteous 
 condemnation. 
 
 § 3. Your conscience tells you, that you were 
 born the natural subject of God ; born under the 
 indispensable obligations of his law. For it is most 
 apparent, that the constitution of your rational 
 nature, which makes you capable of receiving law 
 from God, binds you to obey it. And it is equally 
 evident and certain that you have not exactly obey- 
 ed this law ; nay, that you have violated it in many 
 aggravated instances. 
 
 § 4. Will you dare to deny this ? Will you dare 
 to assert your innocence ? Remember it must be 
 complete innocence ; yes, and a perfect righteous- 
 ness too ; or it can stand you in no stead, further 
 than to prove, that though a condemned sinner, you 
 are not quite so criminal as some others, and will 
 not have quite so hot a place in hell as they. And 
 when this is considered, will you plead Not guilty to 
 the charge ? Search the records of your- own con- 
 science ; for God searcheth them ; ask it seriously, 
 " Have you never in your life sinned against 
 God?" Solomon declared that in his days There 
 was not a just man upon earth, who did good, and 
 .sinned not ; and the apostle Paul, That all had 
 sinned, and come short of the glory of God ; that 
 both Jews and Gentiles (which you know compre- 
 
 hended the whole human race) were all under sin. 
 And ean you pretend any imaginable reason to 
 believe the world is grown so much better since 
 their days, that any should now plead their own 
 case as an exception ? Or w ill you, however, pre- 
 sume to arise in the face of the omniscient Majesty 
 of heaven, and say, I am the man. 
 
 § C). Supposing, as before, you have been free 
 from those gross acts of immorality which arc so 
 pernicious to society, that they have generally been 
 punishable by human laws, can you pretend that 
 you have not, in smaller instances, violated the 
 rules of piety, of temperance, and of charity ? Is 
 there any one person who has intimately known 
 you, that would not be able to testify you had .said 
 or done something amiss ? Or if others could not 
 convict you, would not your own heart do it ? Does 
 it not prove you guilty of pride, of passion, of sen- 
 suality ; of an excessive fondness for the world and 
 its enjoyments ; of murmuring, or at least of se- 
 cretly repining, against God, under the s'trokes of 
 his afflicting providence ; of mispending a great 
 deal of your time ; of abusing the gifts of God's 
 bounty, to vain, if not (in some instances) to perni- 
 cious, purposes ; of mocking him when you have 
 pretended to engage in his worship, drawing near 
 to him with your mouth and your lips, while your 
 heart has been far from him ? Does not conscience 
 condemn you of some one breach of the law, at 
 least '. And by one breach of it you are in a sense, 
 a scriptural sense, become guilty of all ; and are as 
 incapable of being justified before God by any 
 obedience of your own, as if you had committed ten 
 thousand offences. But, in reality, there are ten 
 thousand and more chargeable to your account. 
 When you come to reflect on all your sins of 
 negligence, as well as on those of commission ; on all 
 the instances in which jou have failed to do good 
 when it was in the power of your hand to do it ; on 
 all the instances in which acts of devotion have 
 been omitted, especially in secret ; and on all those 
 cases in which you have shown a stupid disregard 
 to the honour of God, and to the temporal and 
 eternal happiness of your fellow-creatures; when 
 all these, I say, are reviewed, the number will swell 
 beyond all possibility of account, and force you to 
 cry out. Mine iniquities are more than the hairs of 
 my head. They will ajjpear in such a light before 
 you, that your own heart will charge you with 
 countless multitudes ; and how much more then 
 that God, who is greater than your heart, and 
 knoweth all things. 
 
 § G. And say, sinner, is it a little thing that you 
 have presumed to set light by the authority of the 
 God of heaven, and to violate his law, if it had 
 been by mere carelessness and inattention ? How 
 much more heinous, therefore, is the guilt, when in 
 so many instances you have done it knowingly and 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 wilfully ! Give me leave seriously to ask you, and 
 let me entreat you to ask your own soul, against 
 w hom hast thou magnified thyself ? Against whom 
 hast thou exalted thy voice, or lifted up thy rebel- 
 lious hand .' On whose law, O sinner, hast thou 
 presumed to trample ? And whose friendship, and 
 whose enmity, hast thou thereby dared to affront ? 
 Is it a man like thyself that thou hast insulted .' Is 
 it only a temporal monarch ? Only one who can 
 kill thy body, and then hath no more than he can 
 do? Nay, sinner, thou wouldst not have dared to 
 treat a temporal prince as thou hast treated the 
 King eternal, immortal, and invisible. No price 
 could have hired thee to deal by the majesty of an 
 earthly sovereign, as thou hast dealt by that God 
 before whom the cherubim and seraphim are conti- 
 nually bowing. Not one opposing or complaining, 
 disputing or murmuring, word is heard among all 
 the celestial legions, when the intimations of his 
 will are published to them. And who art thou, O 
 wretched man, who art thou, that thou shouldst 
 oppose him ? That thou shouldst oppose and pro- 
 voke a God of infinite power and terror, who needs 
 but exert one single act of his sovereign will, and 
 thou art in a moment stripped of every possession ; 
 cut off from every hope ; destroyed and rooted up 
 from existence, if that were his pleasure ; or, what 
 is inconceivably worse, consigned over to the 
 severest and most lasting agonies ? Yet, this is the 
 God whom thou hast offended ; w hom thou hast 
 affronted to his face, presuming to violate his ex- 
 press laws in his very presence. This is the God 
 before whom thou standest as a convicted criminal ; 
 convicted not of one or two particular offences, but 
 of thousands and ten thousands ; of a course and 
 series of rebellions and provocations, in which 
 thou hast persisted, more or less, ever since thou 
 wast bom ; and the particulars of which have been 
 attended with almost every conceivable circum- 
 stance of aggravation. Reflect on particulars, and 
 deny the charge if you can. 
 
 ^ 7. If knowledge be an aggravation of guilt, thy 
 guilt, O sinner, is greatly aggravated ! For thou 
 wast born in Emanuel's land, and God hath written 
 to thee the great things of his law, yet thou hast 
 accounted them as a strange thing. Thou hast 
 known to do good, and hast not done it ; and there- 
 fore to thee the omission of it has been sin indeed. 
 Hast thou not known ? Hast thou not heard f Wast 
 thou not early taught the will of God, in thine infant 
 years ? Hast thou not since received repeated les- 
 sons, by which it has been inculcated again and 
 again, in public and in private, by preaching and 
 reading the word of God ? Nay, hath not thy duty 
 been in some instances so plain, that even without 
 any instruction at all, thy own reason might easily 
 have inferred it? And hast thou not also been 
 warned of the consequences of disobedience ? Hast 
 c 2 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 19 
 
 thou not known the righteous judgment of God, that 
 they who commit such things are worthy of death f 
 Yet thou hast, perhaps, not only done the same, but 
 hast taken pleasure in those that do them ; bast 
 chosen them for thy most intimate friends and com- 
 panions ; so as thereby to strengthen, by the force 
 of example and converse, the hands of each other in 
 your iniquities. 
 
 ^ 8. Nay more, if divine love and mercy be any 
 aggravation of the sins committed against it, thy 
 crimes, O sinner, are heinously aggravated. Must 
 thou not acknowledge it, O foolish creature, and 
 unwise ? Hast thou not been nourished and brought 
 up by him as his child, and yet hast rebelled against 
 him ? Did not God take you out of the womb ? Did 
 he not watch over you in your infant days, and 
 guard you from a multitude of dangers, which the 
 most careful parent or nurse could not have observed 
 or warded off? Has he not given you your rational 
 powers ? and is it not by him you have been fa- 
 voured with every opportunity of improving them ? 
 Has he not every day supplied your wants with an 
 unw earied liberality ; and added, with respect to 
 many who will read this, the delicacies of life to its 
 necessary supports ? Has he not heard your cry, when 
 trouble came upon you ; and frequently appeared 
 for your deliverance, when in the distresses of nature 
 you have called upon him for help ? Has he not 
 rescued you from ruin, when it seemed just ready to 
 swallow you up ; and healed your diseases, when it 
 seemed to all about you, that the residue of your 
 days was cut off in the midst ? Or, if it had not been 
 so, is not this long continued and uninterrupted 
 health, w hich you have enjoyed for .so many years, 
 to be acknowledged as an equivalent obligation ? 
 Look round upon all your possessions, and say what 
 one thing have you in the world, which his goodness 
 did not give you, and which it hath not thus far 
 preserved to you ? Add to all this, the kind notices 
 of his will, which he hath sent you ; the tender 
 expostulations w Inch he hath used w ith you, to bring 
 you to a wiser and better temper, and the discoveries 
 and gracious invitations of his gospel, which you 
 have heard, and which you have despised ; and then 
 say, whether your rebellion has not been aggravated 
 by the vilest ingratitude, and whether that aggrava- 
 tion can be accounted small ? 
 
 § 9. Again, if it be any aggravation of sin to be 
 committed against conscience, thy crimes, O sinner, 
 have been so aggravated. Consult the re(H)rds of 
 it ; and then dispute Ihe fact, if you can. There is 
 a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty 
 giveth him understanding; and that understanding 
 will act, and a secret conviction of hcing account- 
 able to its Maker and Preserver is insei)arable from 
 (he actings of it. It is easy to ol)jcct to human 
 remonstrances, and to give things false colourings 
 before men ; but the heart often condemns while the 
 
•20 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 Uui-'iu' excuses. Have voii not often found it so '. 
 Has not <-onseionee lonionstratctl apiinst jour past 
 eondnet, and have not tlicsc remonstrances been 
 verj- painful too ? I have been assured by a gentle- 
 man of undoubted eredit, that wlien he was in the 
 pursuit of all the fjajest sensualities of life, an<l was 
 reckoned one of the hajjpiest of mankind, he lias 
 seen a ilop; come into the room where he was amom; 
 his merry companions, and has -groaned inwardly 
 and said, " Oh that 1 iiad been that do}^ !" And hast 
 thou, sinner, felt nothiuf; like this '. Has thy eon- 
 scienee been so stupilied, so scared with a hot iron, 
 that it has never cried out of any of the violences 
 which have been done it ? Has it never warned thee 
 of the fatal consequences of what thou hast done in 
 opposition to it.' These warnings are, in efleet, tlie 
 voice of God ; they are the admonitions which he 
 save thee by his vicegerent in thy breast. And when 
 his sentence for tliy evil works is executed upon thee 
 in everlasting death, tliou slialt hear that voice 
 speaking to tlice again, in a louder tone, and a 
 -severer accent, than before : and thou shalt be tor- 
 mented with its upbraidings through eternity, be- 
 cause thou wouldst not, in time, hearken to its 
 admonitions. 
 
 § 10. Let me add further, if it be any aggrava- 
 tion that sin has been committed after God lias 
 been moving by his Spirit on the mind, surely your 
 sin has been attended with that aggravation too. 
 Under the Mosaic dispensation, dark and imperfect 
 as it was, the Spirit strove with the Jews ; else 
 Stephen could not have charged it upon them, that 
 through all their generations they had always re- 
 sisted him. Now surely we may much more reason- 
 ably apprehend, that he strives with sinners under 
 the gospel. And have you never experienced any 
 thing of this kind, even when there has been no 
 external circumstance to awaken you, nor any 
 pious teacher near you ? Have you never perceived 
 some secret impulse upon your mind, leading you 
 to think of religion, urging you to an immediate 
 consideration of it, sweetly inviting you to make 
 trial of it, and warning you that you would lament 
 this stupid neglect .' O sinner, why were not these 
 happy motions attended to ? Why did you not, as 
 it were, spread out all tlic sails of your soul, to 
 catch tiiat heavenly, that favourable breeze ? But 
 you have carelessly neglected it ; you have over- 
 borne these kind influences : how reasonably, then, 
 might the sentence have gone forth in righteous 
 displeasure. My Spirit shall no more strive ! And 
 indeed, who can say that it is not already gone 
 forth ? If you feel no secret agitation of mind, no 
 remorse, no awakening, while you read such a 
 remonstrance as this, there will be room, great room, 
 to suspect it. 
 
 § 1 1. There is indeed one aggravation more, whicli 
 may not attend your guilt ; I mean that of being 
 
 conimiltcd against solemn covenant engagements : 
 a <'ircuuistance which has lain heavy on the con- 
 sciences of many, who perhaps, in the main series of 
 their lives, have served God with great integrity. 
 But let me call you to think, to what is this owing ? 
 Is it not that you have never personally made any 
 solcnui profession of devoting yourself to God at 
 all .' have never done any thing, which lias appear- 
 ed to your own apprehension an action by which 
 you made a covenant with him ; though you have 
 heard so much of his covenant, though you have 
 been so solemnly and so tenderly invited into it ? 
 And in this view how monstrous must this circum- 
 stance appear, which at first was mentioned as some 
 alleviation of guilt ! Yet I must add, that you arc 
 not perhaps altogether so free from guilt on this 
 head as you nuiy at first imagine. 1 will not insist 
 on the covenant which your parents made in your 
 name, when they devoted you to God in baptism; 
 though it is really a weighty matter, and by calling 
 yourself a Christian you have professed to own and 
 avow what they then did. But I would remind you 
 of what may have been more personal and express. 
 Has your heart been, even from your youth, hard- 
 ened to so uncommon a degree, that you have never 
 cried to God in any season of danger and dilTiculty ? 
 And did you never mingle vows with those cries ? 
 Did you never promise, that if God would hear and 
 help you in that hour of extremity, you would for- 
 sake your sins, and serve him as long as you lived ? 
 He heard and helped you, or you had not been read- 
 ing these lines ; and by such deliverance did, as it 
 were, bind down your vows upon you ; and there- 
 fore your guilt, in the violation of them, remains 
 before him, though you are stupid enough to forget 
 them. Nothing is forgotten, nothing is overlooked, 
 by him ; and the day will come when the record 
 shall be laid before you too. 
 
 § 1'2. And now, O sinner, think seriously with 
 thyself, what defence thou wilt make to all this ! 
 Prepare thine apology ; call thy witnesses ; make 
 thy appeal, from him whom thou hast thus ofTend- 
 ed, to some superior judge, if such there be. Alas, 
 those apologies are so weak and vain, that one of 
 thy fellow-worms may easily detect and confound 
 them ; as I will endeavour presently to show thee. 
 But thy foreboding conscience already knows the 
 issue. Thou art convicted ; convicted of the most 
 aggravated ofl'ences. Thou hast not humbled thy 
 heart, but lifted up thyself against the Lord of 
 heaven ; and thy sentence shall come forth from his 
 presence. Thou hast violated his known law ; thou 
 hast despised and abused his numberless mercies ; 
 thou hast alTrontcd conscience, liis vicegerent in thy 
 soul ; thou hast resisted and grieved his Spirit ; thou 
 hast trifled with him in all thy pretended submis- 
 sions ; and in one word, and that his own, thou 
 hast done evil things as thou couldst. Thousands 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 are, no doubt, already in hell, whose guilt never 
 equalled thine ; and it is astonishing that God has 
 spared thee to read this representation of thy case, 
 or to make any payse upon it. O waste not so pre- 
 cious a moment, but enter, as attentively and 
 humbly as thou canst, into those reflections, which 
 suit a case so lamentable and so terrible as thine ! 
 
 The Confession of a sinner convinced in general of 
 his yuilt. 
 
 " O God ! thou injured Sovereign, thou all-pene- 
 trating and Almighty Judge ! What shall I say to 
 this charge ? Shall I pretend I am wronged by it, 
 and stand on the defence in thy presence ? I dare 
 not do it ; for thou knowest my foolishness, and 
 none of my sins are hid from thee. My conscience 
 tells me, that a denial of my crimes would only 
 increase them, and add new fuel to the fire of thy 
 deserved wrath. If I justify myself, mine own 
 mouth will condemn me : if I say I am perfect, it 
 will also prove me perverse. For innumerable evils 
 have compassed me about. Mine iniquities have 
 taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look 
 up. They are, as I have been told in thy name, 
 more than the hairs of my head, and therefore my 
 heart faileth me. I am more guilty than is possible 
 for another to declare or represent. My heart speaks 
 more than anj- other accuser. And thou, O Lord, 
 art much greater than my heart, and knowest all 
 things. 
 
 " What has my life been, but a course of rebellion 
 against thee ? It is not this or that particular action 
 alone I have to lament. Nothing has been right in 
 its principles, views, and ends. My whole soul has 
 been disordered. All my thoughts, my affections, 
 my desires, my pursuits, have been wretchedly 
 alienated from thee. I have acted as if I had hated 
 thee, who art infinitely the loveliest of all beings ; 
 as if I had been contriving how I might tempt thee 
 to the uttermost, and wear out thy patience, marvel- 
 lous as it is. My actions have been evil ; my words 
 yet more evil than they ; and, O blessed (Jod, my 
 heart, how much more comipt than either ! What 
 an inexhausted fountain of sin has there been in it ! 
 A fountain of original corruption, which mingled its 
 bitter streams with the days of early childhood ; 
 and which, alas, flows on even to this very day, 
 beyond what actions or words could express. I sec 
 this to have been the case, with regard to what I 
 can particularly survey. But oh, how many months 
 and years have I forgotten ! concerning which I 
 only know this, in the general, that they are much 
 like those I can remember ; except it be, that I have 
 been growing worse and worse, and provoking thy 
 patience more and more, though every new exercise 
 of it was more and more wonderful. 
 
 "And how am I astonislied, that thy forbearance 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 21 
 
 is still continued ! It is, because thou art God, and 
 not man. Had I, a sinful worm, been thus injured, 
 I could not have endured it. Had I been a prince, 
 I had long since done justice on any rebel, whose 
 crimes had borne but a distant resemblance to mine. 
 Had I been a parent, I had long since cast off the 
 ungrateful child who had made me such a return, as 
 I have all my life long been making to thee, O thou 
 Father of my spirit ! The flame of natural affection 
 would have been extinguished ; and his sight, and 
 his very name, would have become hateful to me. 
 Why then, O Lord, am I not cast out from thy pre- 
 sence ? Why am I not sealed up under an irrever- 
 sible sentence of destruction ? That I live, I owe 
 to thine indulgence. But oh, if there be yet any 
 way of deliverance, if there be yet any hope for so 
 guilty a creature, may it be opened upon me by thy 
 gospel and thy grace ! And if any further alarm, 
 humiliation, and terror, be necessary to my security 
 and salvation, may I meet them, and bear them all ! 
 Wound mine heart, O Lord, so that thou wilt but 
 afterwards heal it; and break it in pieces, if thou 
 wilt but at length condescend to bind up !" 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 The sinner stripped of his vain pleas. 
 
 Tlie vanity of those plea^ wliich *iinnrrs may secretly confide in so ap- 
 parc'Ut, that they will be aslianied at last to im iitioii them liefoicGod, 
 j I, 2. Such as, (1.) That they descended from pious parents, } 3 
 (2.) That tliey had attended to the speculative part of religrion, } 1. 
 (J.) That they had entertained sound notions, } 5. (4.) Tliat lliey 
 had expressed a zealous rej^ard to relijjiort, and attended the outward 
 forms of worship with those they apprehended the purest churches, 
 5 6, 7. (3.) That they had been free from gross immoralities. ^ 8. 
 ((i.) That tliey did not think the conserjuence of neglecting religion 
 would have liccn so fatal, ) 9. (7.) That they conid not do otherwise 
 than they did, } 10. Conclusion, } II. With the meditation of a 
 convinced sinner giving up his vain pleas before God. 
 
 § 1. My last discourse left the sinner in a very 
 alanning and a very pitiable circumstance, a crimi- 
 nal convicted at the bar of God, disarmed of all 
 pretences to perfect innocence and sinless obe- 
 dience, and consequently obnoxious to the sentence 
 of a holy law, which can make no allowance for 
 any transgression, no, not for the least ; but pro- 
 nounces death, and a curse, against every act of 
 disobedience ; how nuich more, then, against those 
 numberless and aggravated acts of rebellion, of 
 which, O sinner, thy conscience hath condemned 
 thee before God ! I would hope some of my readers 
 will ingenuously fall under the conviction, and not 
 think of making any apology : for sure I am, that 
 humbly to plead guilty at the divine bar, is the most 
 decent, and, all things considered, the most prudent, 
 thing that can be done in such an unhappy circum- 
 stance. Yet I know the treachery and the sclf-dattery 
 of a sinful and corrupted heart ; 1 know what ex- 
 cuses it makes, and how, when it is driven from one 
 refuge, it (lies to another, to fortify itself against con- 
 
23 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 viction, ;uk1 to piMsiiado, iiol merely another, but 
 itself, '• That if if has l)ccn in somo instances to 
 blame, it is not quite so criminal as was represented. 
 That there arc, at least, considerations that plead 
 in its favour, which, if they cannot justify, will in 
 somo decree exeusc." A secret reserve of this 
 kind, sometimes perhaps scarce formed into a dis- 
 tinct rellection, breaks the force of conviction, and 
 often prevents that deep humiliation before God, 
 which is the happiest token of approaching; deliver- 
 ance. I will, therefore, examine into some of these 
 particulars, and for that purpose would seriously ask 
 thee, O sinner. What thou hast to offer in arrest of 
 judfi^ment ? What plea thou canst urg^e for thyself, 
 why the sentence of God should not go forth against 
 thee, and why thou shouldst not fall into the hands 
 of his justice? 
 
 § 2. But this I premise, that the question is not, 
 how thou wouldst answer to mo, a weak sinful 
 worm like thyself, who am shortly to stand with 
 thee at the same bar ; (the Lord grant that I may 
 lind mercy of the Lord in that day !) but what wilt 
 thou reply to thy judge? What couldst thou plead 
 if thou wast now actually before his tribunal ; 
 where, to multiply vain words, and to frame idle 
 apologies, would be but to increase thy guilt and 
 provocation ? Surely the very thoughts of his pre- 
 sence, must supersede a thousand of those trilling 
 excuses, which now sometimes impose on a genera- 
 tion that are pure in their own eyes, though they 
 are not washed from their filthiness ; or while they 
 are conscious of their own impurities, trust in 
 words that cannot profit, and lean upon broken 
 reeds. 
 
 § 3. You will not, to be sure, in such a circum- 
 stance, plead, " that you are descended from pious 
 parents." That was indeed your privilege, and woe 
 be to you that you have abused it, and forsaken the 
 God of your fathers. Ishmacl was immediately 
 descended from Abraham, the friend of God ; and 
 Esau was the son of Isaac, "who was born according 
 to the promise. Yet, you know, they were both 
 cut off from the blessing, to which they apprehended 
 they had a kind of hereditary claim. You may 
 remember, that our Lord does not only speak of one 
 who could call Abraham father, who was tormented 
 in flames ; but expressly declares, that many of the 
 children of the kingdom shall be shut out of it ; and 
 when others come from the most distant parts to sit 
 down in it, shall be distinguished from their com- 
 panions in misery only by louder accents of lamenta- 
 tion, and more furious gnashing of teeth. 
 
 § 4. Nor will you then presume to plead, " that 
 you had exercised your thoughts about the specu- 
 lative part of religion." For to what end can this 
 serve, but to increase your condemnation ? Since 
 you have broken God's law, since you have contra- 
 dicted the most obvious and apparent obligations of 
 
 religion, to have inquired into it, and argued upon 
 it, is a circumstance that proves your guilt more 
 audacious. What? did you think religion was 
 merely an exercise of men's wit, and the amuse- 
 ment of their curiosity? If you argued about it, on 
 the principles of common sense, you must have 
 judged and proved it to be a practical thing : and 
 if it was so, why did you not practise accordingly ? 
 You knew the particular branches of it ; and why 
 then did you not attend to every one of them ? To 
 have pleaded an unavoidable ignorance, would have 
 been the happiest plea that could have remained 
 for you ; nay, an actual, though faulty, ignorance, 
 would have been some little allay of your guilt. 
 But if, by your own confession, you have known 
 your Master's will, and have not done it, you bear 
 witness against yourself, that you deserve to be 
 beaten with many stripes. 
 
 § 3. Nor yet again will it suffice to say, " that 
 you have had right notions, both of the doctrines 
 and the precepts of religion." Your advantage for 
 practising it was therefore the greater ; but under- 
 standing, and acting, aright, can never go for the 
 same thing, in the judgment of God or of man. In 
 believing there is one God, you have done well ; but 
 the devils also believe and tremble. In acknow- 
 ledging Christ to be the Son of God, and the Holy 
 One, you have done well too ; but you know the un- 
 clean spirits made this very orthodox confession, 
 and yet they are reserved in everlasting chains, 
 under darkness, unto the judgment of the great 
 day. And will you place any secret confidence in 
 that, which might be pleaded by the infernal spirits, 
 as well as by you ? 
 
 § 6. But perhaps you may think of pleading 
 " that you have actually done something in reli- 
 gion." Having judged what faith was the soundest, 
 and what worship the purest, " you entered your- 
 self into those societies, where such articles of faith 
 were professed, and such forms of worship were 
 practised ; and among those you have signalized 
 yourself, by the exactness of your attendance, by 
 the zeal with which you have espoused their cause, 
 and by the earnestness with which you have con- 
 tended for such principles and practices." O sin- 
 ner, I much fear that this zeal of thine, about the 
 circumstantials of religion, will swell thy account, 
 rather than be allowed in abatement of it. He that 
 searches thy heart, knows from whence it arose, 
 and how far it extended. Perhaps he sees that it 
 was all hypocrisy; an artful veil, under which thou 
 wast carrying on thy mean designs for this world, 
 while the sacred names of God and religion were 
 profaned and prostituted in the basest manner : and 
 if so, thou art cursed with a distinguished curse, 
 for so daring an insult on the divine omniscience, 
 as well as justice. Or perhaps, the earnestness 
 with which you have been contending for the faith 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 and worship, which was once delivered to the saints, 
 or wliich it is possible you may have rashly con- 
 cluded to be that, might be mere pride and bitter- 
 ness of spirit: and all the zeal you have expressed 
 might possibly arise from a confidence of your own 
 judgment, from an impatience of contradiction, or 
 some secret malignity of spirit, which delighted 
 itself in condemning, and even in worrying, others; 
 yea, which (if I may be allowed the expression) 
 fiercely preyed upon religion, as the tiger upon the 
 lamb, to turn it into a nature most contrary to its 
 own. And shall this screen you before the great 
 tribunal ? Shall it not rather awaken the displea- 
 sure it is pleaded to avert ? 
 
 § 7. But say, that this zeal for notions and forms 
 has been ever so well intended, and so far as it has 
 gone, ever so well conducted too ; what will that 
 avail towards vindicating thee in so many instances 
 of negligence and disobedience, as are recorded 
 against thee in the book of God's remembrance ? 
 Were the revealed doctrines of the gospel to be 
 earnestly maintained, (as indeed they ought,) and 
 was the great practical purpose for which they were 
 revealed to be forgot ! was the very mint, and anise, 
 and cummin to be tithed, and were the weightier 
 matters of the law to be omitted ; even that love to 
 God, which is its first and great command .' Oli, 
 how wilt thou be able to vindicate even the justest 
 sentence thou liast passed on others, for their infi- 
 delity, or for their disobedience, without being con- 
 demned out of thy own mouth ? 
 
 §8. Will you then plead "your fair moral cha- 
 racter, your works of righteousness and of mercy ;" 
 Had your obedience to the law of God been com- 
 plete, the plea might be allowed as important and 
 valid. But I have supposed and proved above, that 
 conscience testifies to the contrary, and you will not 
 now dare to contradict it. I add further, had these 
 works of yours, which you now urge, proceeded from 
 a sincere love to God, and a genuine faith in the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, you would not have thought of 
 pleading them, any otherwise than as an evidence of 
 your interest in the gospel covenant, and in the 
 blessings of it, procured by the righteousness and 
 blood of the Redeemer. And that faith, had it been 
 sincere, would have been attended with such deep 
 humility, and with such solemn apprehensions of 
 the divine holiness and glory, that instead of plead- 
 ing any works of your own before God, you would 
 rather have implored his pardon for the mixture of 
 sinful imperfection attending the very best of them. 
 Now, as you are a stranger to this humbling and 
 sanctifying principle, (which here, in this address, 
 I suppose my reader to be,) it is absolutely neces- 
 sary you should be plainly and faithfully told, that 
 neither sobriety, nor honesty, nor humanity, will 
 justify you before the tribunal of God, when he lays 
 judgment to the line, and righteousness to the plum- 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 23 
 
 met, and examines all your actions and all your 
 thoughts with the strictest severity. You have not 
 been a drunkard, an adulterer, or a robber. So far 
 it is well. You stand before a righteous God, who 
 will do you ample justice, and therefore will not 
 condemn you for drunkenness, adultery, or robbery. 
 But you have forgotten him, your Parent and your 
 Benefactor ; you have cast off fear, and restrained 
 prayer before him ; you have despised the blood of 
 his Son, and all the immortal blessings that he pur- 
 chased with it. For this, therefore, you are judged 
 and condemned. And as for any thing that has 
 looked like virtue and humanity in your temper and 
 conduct, the exercise of it has in a great measure 
 been its own reward, if there were any thing more 
 than form and artifice in it ; and the various boun- 
 ties of Divine Providence to you amidst all the num- 
 berless provocations, have been a thousand times 
 more than an equivalent for such defective and im- 
 perfect virtues as these. You remain, therefore, 
 chargeable with the guilt of a thousand ofl'ences, for 
 which } ou have no excuse ; though there are some 
 other instances in which you did not grossly offend. 
 And those good works in which you have been so ready 
 to trust, will no more vindicate you in his awful pre- 
 sence, than a man's kindness to his poor neighbours 
 would be allowed as a plea in arrest of judgment, 
 when he stood convicted of high treason against his 
 prince. 
 
 § 9. But you will perhaps be ready to say, " You 
 did not expect all this ; you did not think the con- 
 sequences of neglecting religion would have been so 
 fatal." And why did you not think it .' Why did you 
 not examine more attentively, and more impartially ? 
 Why did you suffer the pride and folly of your vain 
 heart to take up with such superficial appearances, 
 and trust the light s'iggcstions of your own iireju- 
 diced mind against the express declaration of the 
 word of (Jodf Had you reflected on his character 
 as tlie Siipreme Governor of the world, you would 
 have seen the necessity of such a day of retribution 
 as we arc now referring to. Had you regarded the 
 Scripture, the divine authority of which you profess- 
 ed to believe, every page might have taught you to 
 expect it. " You did not tliiiik of religion :" and 
 of what were you thinking when \on forgot or neg- 
 lected it f Had you too mui-li employment of another 
 kind ? Of what kind, I beseech you .' What end 
 could you propose by any tiling else of e(|UHl mo- 
 ment f Nay, willi all your eiigagcmcnls, conscience 
 will tell you, that there have been seasons, w hen for 
 w^ant of thought, time and life have been a burthen 
 to you : yet you guarded against thought as an ene- 
 my, and cast up (as it were) an intreiiciinient of in- 
 consideration around you on every side, as if it had 
 been to defend you from the most dangerous inva- 
 sion. God knew you were thoughtless, and there- 
 fore ho sent you line upon line, and precept upon 
 
24 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 precept, in sucli plain lans,iiai;e, (hat it needed no 
 ifenius or study to understantl it. He tried you loo 
 witli alllictions, as well as with mercies, to awaken 
 you out of your fatal lethargy ; and yet, when 
 awakened, you would lie down again upon the 
 bed of sloth. And now, pleasing as your dreams 
 might be, you must lie dow n in sorrow . Kelleetion 
 lias at last overtaken you, and must be heard as a 
 tormentor, since it might not be lieard as a friend. 
 
 § 10. But some may perhaps imagine, that one 
 important apology is yet unheard, and that there 
 may be room to say " you were, by the necessity of 
 your nature, impelled to those things, which are 
 now charged upon you as crimes ; whereas it was 
 not in your power to have avoided them, in the cir- 
 cumstances in which you are placed." If this will 
 do any thing, it indeed promises to do much ; so 
 much that it will amount to nothing. If I were 
 disposed to answer you upon the folly and madness 
 of your ow n principles, I might say, that the same 
 consideration, which proves it was necessary for 
 you to olVend, proves also that it is necessary for 
 God to punish you ; and that indeed he cannot but 
 do it : and I might further say, with an excellent 
 writer of our own age, " that the same principles 
 which destroy the injustice of sins, destroy the in- 
 justice of punishment too." But if you cannot 
 admit this, if you should still reply, in spite of prin- 
 ciple, that it must be unjust to punish you for an 
 action utterly and absolutely unavoidable, I really 
 think you would answer right. But in that answer 
 you would contradict your own scheme, (as I ob- 
 served above,) and I leave your own conscience to 
 judge, what sort of a sclieme that must be, which 
 would make all kind of punisbment unjust: for the 
 argument will on the whole be the same, whether 
 with regard to human punisiiment or divine. It 
 is a scheme full of confusion and horror. You 
 would not, I am sure, take it from a servant who 
 had robl)ed you, and then tired your house : you 
 would never inwardly believe, that lie could not 
 have helped it ; or think, that he had fairly excused 
 himself by such a plea. And I am persuaded, 
 you would be so far from presuming to ofl'er it to 
 God at the great day, that you would not venture 
 to turn it into a prayer even now. Imagine that 
 you saw a malefactor dying with such words as 
 these in his mouth : " O God, it is true, I did in- 
 deed rob and murder my fellow-creatures : but 
 thou knowest, that, as my circumstances were 
 ordered, I could not do otherwise ; my will was 
 irresistibly determined by the motives which thou 
 didst set before me ; and I could as well have 
 shaken the foundations of the earth, or darkened 
 the sun in the firmament, as have resisted the im- 
 pulse which bore me on." I put it to your con- 
 science, whether you would not look on such a 
 speech as this with detestation, as one enormity 
 
 added to aiiotliei . ^'et if the excuse would have 
 any weight in your mouth, it would have e<iual 
 weight in his; or would be equally applicable to 
 any the most shocking occasion. But indeed it is 
 so contrary to the jilaiiiest principles of common 
 reason, that I can hardly persuade myself any one 
 could seriously and thoroughly believe it; and 
 sliould imagine my time very ill employed here, if 
 I were to set myself to coniliat those pretences to 
 argument, by which the wantonness of human wit 
 has attempted to varnish it over. 
 
 § 11. You see then, on the whole, the vanity of 
 all your pleas, and how easily the most plausible of 
 them might be silenced, by a mortal man like your- 
 self! How much more then by him, who searches 
 all hearts, and can, in a moment, flash in upon the 
 conscience a most powerful and irresistible con- 
 viction ! What then can you do, while you stand 
 convicted in the presence of God? What should 
 you do, but hold your peace under an inw ard sense 
 of your inexcusable guilt, and prepare yourself to 
 hear the sentence, w hieh his law pronounces against 
 you? You must feel the execution of it, if the gos- 
 pel does not at length deliver you ; and you must 
 feel something of the terror of it, before you can be 
 excited to seek to that gospel for deliverance. 
 
 The Meditation of a convinced sinner, (jiving up his 
 vain pleas before God. 
 
 "Deplorable condition, to which I am indeed re- 
 duced ! I have sinned ; and what shall I say unto 
 thee, O thou Preserver of men ? What shall I dare 
 to say ? Fool that I was, to amuse myself with such 
 trifling excuses as these, and to imagine they could 
 liave any weight in thy tremendous presence ; or 
 that I should be able so much as to mention them 
 there ! I cannot presume to do it. I am silent and 
 confounded. My hopes, alas, are slain ; and my 
 soul itself is ready to die too, so far as an immortal 
 soul can die ; and I am almost ready to say, O that 
 it could die entirely ! I am indeed a criminal in 
 the hand of justice, quite disarmed, and stripped of 
 the weapons in which I trusted. Dissimulation 
 can only add provocation to provocation ; I will 
 therefore plainly and freely own it. I have acted as 
 if I thought God was altogether such a one as my- 
 self. But he hath said, I will reprove thee ; I will 
 set thy sins in order before thine eyes, will marshal 
 them in battle array. And oh, wliat a terrible kind 
 of host do they appear! and how do they surround 
 me beyond all possibility of an escape ! O my soul, 
 they have, as it were, taken thee prisoner ; and they 
 are bearing thee away to the divine tribunal ! 
 
 " Thou must appear before it. Thou must sec the 
 awful eternal Judge, who tries the very reins; and 
 who needs no other evidence, for he has himself 
 been witness to all thy rebellion. Thou must see 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 him, O my soul, sitting in judgment upon tlicc ! And 
 when he is strict to mark iniquity, how wilt thou 
 answ'er hito for one of a thousand ? And if thou 
 canst not answer him, in what language will he 
 speak to thee ? Lord, as things at present stand, I 
 can expect no other language than that of condem- 
 nation. And what a condemnation it is ! Let me 
 reflect upon it. Let me read my sentence before I 
 hear it finally and irreversibly passed. I know he 
 has recorded it in his word ; and I know, in the 
 general, that the representation of it is made with a 
 gracious design. I know that he would have us 
 alarmed, that we may not be destroyed. Speak to 
 me, therefore, O God, while thou speakest not for 
 the last time, and in circumstances when thou wilt 
 hear me no more. Speak in the language of effect- 
 ual terror, so that it be not to speak nie into final 
 despair. And let thy word, however painful in its 
 operations, be quick and powerful, and sharper than 
 any two-edged sword. Let me not vainly flatter 
 myself ; let me not be left a wretched prey to those 
 who would prophesy smooth things to me, till I am 
 sealed up under wrath, and feel thy justice piercing 
 my soul, and the poison of thine arrows drinking 
 up all my spirits. 
 
 " Before I enter upon the particular viow, I know, 
 in the general, that it is a terrible thing to fall into 
 the hands of the living God. O thou living God, 
 in one sense I am already fallen into thine hands. 
 I am become obnoxious to thy displeasure, justly 
 obnoxious to it ; and whatever thy sentence may be, 
 when it comes forth from thy presence, I must con- 
 demn myself, and justify thee. Thou canst not 
 treat me with more severity than mine iniquities 
 have deserved. And how bitter soever that cup of 
 trembling may be, which thou shalt appoint for mc, 
 I give judgment against myself, that I deserve to 
 wring out the very dregs of it." 
 
 CHAP. VL 
 The sinner sentenced. 
 
 The sinner called upnn to hear his sentence, { 1 — 2. God's law does 
 now in general pronounce a curse, } 3. It pronounces death, } 4. 
 And heinu' turnrd into hell, } 5. The jud^jment-day sliall come, { li 
 The solemnity of that ^rand process described, according to scriptural 
 representations of it, \ 7, H. With a particular illustration of lln- 
 sentence, Depart, accursed, &c. } 9. The execution will certainly 
 and immediately follow, J 10. The sinner warned to prepare for 
 enduring it, } II. The reflection of a sinner struck witli the terror 
 of thissentence. 
 
 § 1. Hkar, O sinner, and 1 will speak yet once 
 more, as in the name of God, of God thine Al- 
 mighty .ludge ; who if thou do.st not attend to his 
 servants, will ere long speak unto thee in a more 
 immediate manner, with an energy and terror which 
 thou shalt not be able to resist. 
 
 § 2. Thou hast been convicted, as in his presence. 
 Thy pleas have been overruled ; or rather, they 
 have been silenced. It appears before God, it ap- 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 25 
 
 pears to thine own conscience, that thou hast 
 nothing more to ofl'cr in arrest of judgment ; there- 
 fore hear thy sentence, and sunnnnn up, if thou 
 canst, all the powers of thy soul to bear the execu- 
 tion of it. It is indeed a very small thing to be 
 judged of man's judgment ; but he that now judgeth 
 thee is the Lord. Hear therefore, and tremble, 
 while I tell thee how he will speak to thee ; or rather, 
 while I show thee, from express Scripture, how he 
 doth even now speak, and what is the authentic 
 and recorded sentence of his word ; even of his word, 
 who hath said, Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 but not one tittle of my word shall ever pass away. 
 
 § 3. The law of God speaks, not to thee alone, O 
 sinner, not to thee by any particular address ; but 
 in a most universal language, it speaks to all trans- 
 gressors, and levels its terrors against all ofl'ences, 
 great or small, without any exception. And this is 
 its language : Cursed is every one that continueth 
 not in all things which are written in the book of 
 the law to do them. This is its voice to the whole 
 world ; and this it speaks to thee. Its awful con- 
 tents are thy personal concern, O reader ; and thy 
 conscience knows it. Far from continuing in all 
 things that are written therein to do them, thou 
 canst not but be sensible that innumerable evils 
 have encompassed thee about. It is then manifest, 
 thou art the man whom it condemns : thou art even 
 now cursed with a curse, as God emphatically 
 speaks, with the curse of the most high God. Yea, 
 all the curses which are written in the book of the 
 law are pointed against thee. God may righteously 
 execute any of them upon thee in a moment : and 
 though thou at present feelest none of them, yet, if 
 infinite mercy doth not prevent, it is but a little 
 while, and they will come into thy bowels like 
 water, till thou art burst asunder with them, and 
 shall penetrate like oil into thy bones. 
 
 § 4. Thus saith the Lord, the soul that sinneth, it 
 shall die. But thou hast sinned, and therefore thou 
 art under a sentence of death. And, O unhappy 
 creature, of what a death ! What will tlie end of 
 these things be ? That the agonies of dissolving 
 nature shall seize thee ; that thy soul shall be torn 
 away from thy languishing body, and thou return to 
 the dust from whence thou wast taken. This is 
 indeed one awful eflect of sin. In these aflecting 
 characters has (rod, througli all nations and all ages 
 of men, written the awful register and memorial of 
 his holy abhorrentie of it, and righteous displeasure 
 against it. But alas, all this solemn pomp and 
 horror of dying is but the opening of the dreadful 
 scene. It is but a rough kind of stroke, by which 
 the fetters are knocked olf, when the criminal is led 
 out to torture and execution. 
 
 § 5. Thus saith the Lord, the wicked shall be 
 turniul into hell, even all the nations that forget 
 God. Though there be w hole nations of them, theii- 
 
S6 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 multitudes anil their power shall be no defence to 
 tiieuK Tiiev shall bedii\ eii into hell to}?ethor ; into 
 that naming prison, wliieh divine ven>;canee hath 
 prepared; into Tophet, which is ordained of old, 
 even for royal sinners as well as for others, so little 
 can any human distinction protect ! He hath made 
 it deep aiul lar<je ; the pile thereof is fire and much 
 wood ; the breath oftlie Lord, like a strean» of brim- 
 stone, sliall kindle it; and the tlamin>^ torrent shall 
 flow in upon it so fast, that it shall be turned into a 
 sea of liquid fire ; or, as the Scripture also expresses 
 it, a lake burning with fire and brimstone for ever 
 and ever. This is the second death ; and the death to 
 which thou, O sinner, by the word of God art doomed. 
 
 § 0. And shall this sentence stand ui)on record 
 in vain ? Shall the law speak it, and the gospel 
 speak it, and sliall it never be pronounced more 
 audibly ? And will God never require and execute 
 the punishment ? lie will, O sinner, require it, and 
 lie will execute it, though he may seem for a while 
 to delay. For well dost tliou know, that he hath 
 appointed a day in which he will judge the whole 
 world in righteousness, by that Man whom he hath 
 ordained, of which he hath given us assurance in 
 having raised liim from the dead. And when God 
 judgeth the world, O reader, whoever thou art, he 
 will judge thee. And while I remind thee of it, I 
 would also remember that he will judge me. And 
 knowing the terror of the Lord, that I may deliver 
 my oM n soul, I would with all plainness and sin- 
 cerity labour to deliver thine. 
 
 § 7. I therefore repeat the solemn warning : Thou, 
 O sinner, shalt stand before the judgment-seat of 
 Christ. Thou shalt see that pompous appearance, 
 the description of which is grown so familiar to 
 thee, that the repetition of it makes no impression 
 on thy mind. But surely, stupid as thou now art, 
 the shrill trumpet of the archangel shall shake thy 
 very soul ; and if nothing else can awaken and 
 alarm thee, the convulsions and flames of a dissolv- 
 ing world shall do it. 
 
 § 8. Dost thou really think that the intent of 
 Christ's final appearance is only to recover his 
 people from the grave, and to raise them to glory 
 and happiness? Whatever assurance thou hast 
 that there shall be a resurrection of the just, thou 
 hast the same that there shall also be a resurrection 
 of the unjust; that he shall separate the rising- 
 dead one from another, as a shepherd divideth liis 
 sheep from the goats, with equal certainty, and with 
 infinitely greater ease. Or can you imagine that he 
 will only make an example of some flagrant and 
 notorious sinners, when it is said, that all the dead, 
 both small and great, shall stand before God ; and 
 that he who knew not his Master's will, and conse- 
 quently seems of all others to have had the fairest 
 excuse for his omission to obey it, yet even he, for 
 that very omission, shall be beaten, though with 
 
 fewer stripes ? Or can you think, that a sentence 
 to be delivered with so much pomp and majesty, a 
 sentence by which the righteous judgnibnt of God 
 is to !)c revealed, and to have its most conspicuous 
 and final triumph, will be inconsiderable ? or the 
 punishment to which it shall consign the sinner be 
 slight or tolerable ? There would have been little 
 reason to apprehend that, even if we had been left 
 barely to our m\ n conjectures what that sentence 
 should be. But this is far from being the case. 
 Our Lord Jesus Christ, in his infinite condescension 
 and compassion, has been pleased to give us a copy 
 of the sentence, and no doubt a most exact copy ; 
 and the words which contain it are worthy of being 
 inscribed on every heart. The King, amidst all the 
 splendour and dignity in which he shall tlicn ap- 
 pear, shall say unto those on his right hand. Come, 
 ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre- 
 pared for you from the foundation of the world. 
 And where the word of a king is, there is power in- 
 deed. And these words have a power which may 
 justly animate the heart of the humble Christian, 
 under the most overwhelming sorrow, and may fill 
 him with joy unspeakable and full of glory. To be 
 pronounced the blessed of the Lord ! to be called to a 
 kingdom! to the immediate, the everlasting inherit- 
 ance of it ! and of such a kingdom ! so well prepared, 
 so glorious, so complete, so exquisitely fitted for the 
 delight and entertainment of such creatures so formed 
 and so renewed, that it shall appear worthy the eter- 
 nal counsels of God to have contrived it, worthy his 
 eternal love to have prepared it, and to have de- 
 lighted itself with the views of bestowing it upon 
 his people. Behold a blessed hope indeed ! a 
 lively glorious hope, to which we are begotten 
 again by the resurrection of Christ from the dead, 
 and formed by the sanctifying influence of the 
 Spirit of God upon our minds. But it is a hope 
 from which thou, O sinner, art at present excluded ; 
 and, methinks, that might be grievous; to reflect, 
 " These gracious words shall Christ speak to some, 
 to multitudes, but not to me; on me there is no 
 blessedness pronounced ; for me there is no king- 
 dom prepared." But is that all ? Alas, sinner, our 
 Lord hath given thee a dreadful counterpart to 
 (his. He has told us what he will say to thee if 
 thou continuest what thou art ; to thee, and all the 
 nations of the impenitent and unbelieving world, 
 be they ever so numerous, be the rank of particular 
 criminals ever so great. He shall say to the kings 
 of the earth, who have been rebels against him, to 
 the great and rich men, and the chief captains, and 
 the mighty men, as well as to every bond man, and 
 every free man of inferior rank. Depart from me, 
 accursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil 
 and his angels. O pause upon these weighty words, 
 that thou mayst enter into something of the im- 
 portance of them ! 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 § i). He will say, Depart ! You shall be driven from 
 his presence with disgrace and infamy ; from him, 
 the source of life and blessedness, in a nearness to 
 whom all the inhabitants of heaven continually re- 
 joice. You shall depart accursed. You have broken 
 God's law, and its curse falls upon you ; and you 
 are, and shall be, under that curse, that abiding 
 curse : from that day forward you shall be regarded 
 by God, and all his creatures, as an accursed and 
 abominable thing ; as the most detestable and most 
 miserable part of the creation. You shall go into 
 fire ; and O consider into what fire ! Is it merely 
 into one fierce blaze, which shall consume you in a 
 moment, though with exquisite pain? That were 
 terrible. But O, such terrors are not to be named 
 with these ! Thine, sinner, is everlasting fire : it is 
 that which our Lord hath in such awful terms de- 
 scribed as prevailing there. Where their w orm dieth 
 not, and the fire is not quenched ; and then says it 
 a second time. Where their worm dieth not, and the 
 fire is not quenched ; and again, in wonderful com- 
 passion, a third time. Where their w orm dieth not, 
 and the fire is not quenched. Nor was it originally 
 prepared, or principally intended, for you : it was 
 prepared for the devil and his angels ; for those first 
 grand rebels, vi ho were immediately upon their fall 
 doomed to it : and since yon have taken part with 
 them in their apostasy, you must sink with Ihem 
 into that flaming ruin ; and sink so much the deeper, 
 as you have despised a Saviour who was never of- 
 fered to them. These must be your companions and 
 your tormentors, with whom you must dwell for 
 ever. And is it I that say this ? or say not the law 
 and the gospel the same ? Does not the Lord Jesus 
 Christ expressly say it, who is the faithful and true 
 witness, even he who himself is to pronounce the 
 sentence ? 
 
 § 10. And when it is thus pronounced, and pro- 
 nounced by him, shall it not also be executed ! Who 
 could imagine the contrary ? Who could imagine 
 there should be all this pompons declaration, to fill 
 the mind only with vain terror ; and that this sen- 
 tence should vanish into smoke ? You may easily 
 apprehend that this would be a greater reproach to 
 the divine administration, than if sentence were 
 never to be passed. And therefore we might easily 
 have infenxd the execution of it from the process of 
 the preceding judgment. But lest the treacherous 
 heart of the sinner should deceive him with so vain 
 a hope, the assurance of that execution is imme- 
 diately a<lded, in very memorable terms. It shall 
 be done ; it shall immediately be done. Then, on 
 that very day, while the sound of it is yet in their 
 cars, the wicked shall go away into everlasting 
 punishment ; and thou, O reader, whoever thou art, 
 being found in their number, shalt go away with 
 them ; shalt be driven on anmng all these wretched 
 multitudes, and plunged with tliem into eternal ruin. 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 27 
 
 The wide gates of hell shall be open to receive thee ; 
 they shall be shut upon thee for ever to enclose thee ; 
 and be fast barred by the almighty hand of divine 
 justice, to prevent all hope, all possibility, of escape 
 for ever. 
 
 § 11. And now, prepare thyself to meet the Lord 
 thy God ; summon up all the resolution of thy mind, 
 to endure such a sentence, such an execution, as 
 this : for he will not meet thee as a man ; whose 
 heart may sometimes fail him, when about to exert a 
 needful act of severity, so that compassion may pre- 
 vail against reason and justice. No, he will meet 
 thee as a God, whose schemes and purposes are all 
 immovable as his throne. I therefore testify to 
 thee in his name this day, that if God be true, he 
 will thus speak ; and that if he be able, he will thus 
 act. And on supposition of thy continuance in 
 thy impenitence and unbelief, thou art brought 
 into this miserable case ; that if God be not either 
 false or weak, thou art undone, thou art eternally 
 undone. 
 
 The Reflection of a sinner struck u ith the terror of 
 this sentenee. 
 
 " Wretch that I am ! What shall I do ? or whither 
 shall I flee ? I am weighed in the balance, and am 
 found wanting. This is indeed my doom ; the doom 
 I am to expect from the mouth of Christ himself; 
 from the mouth of him that died for the redemption 
 and salvation of men. Dreadful sentence ! and so 
 much the more dreadful when considered in that 
 view ! To what shall I look to save me from it ] 
 To whom shall I call ? Shall I say to the rocks. 
 Fall upon me, and to the hills. Cover me \ What 
 shall I gain by that ! Were I indeed overwhelmed 
 with rocks and mountains, they could not conceal 
 uie from the notice of his eye ; and his hand could 
 reach me with as much ease there as any where else. 
 
 " Wretch indeed that I am ! Oh that I had never 
 been born ! That I had never known the dignity 
 and prerogative of the rational nature ! Fatal i)re- 
 rogativc indeed, that renders me obnoxious to con- 
 demnation and w rath ! Oh that I had never been 
 instructed in the will of God at all, rather than that, 
 being thus instructed, I should have disregarded 
 and transgressed it ! Would to God I had been 
 allied to the meanest of the human race, to them 
 that come nearest to the state of the brutes, rather 
 than that I should have had my lot in cultivated 
 life, amidst so many of the improvements of reason, 
 and (dreadful reflection !) amidst so many of the 
 advantages of religion too ! and thus to have per- 
 verted all to my own destruction ! Oh that God 
 would take away this rational soul ! But, alas ! it 
 will live for ever; will live to feel the agonies of 
 eternal death. Why have I seen the beauties an<l 
 glories of a world like this, to exchange it for that 
 
28 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 flamins: prison ! Why fiavc I tasted so many of 
 my ("rcatoi's hounlios, to wrini:; out at last tlio dro^s 
 of liis wrath ! Why liavo I known tlie delifjhts of 
 serial liiV and friontlly converse, to oxchanj^r tliom 
 for the luirrid eonipany of devils and damned spirits 
 in T«ti>lu t ! Oh, who ean dwell m ilh them in devour- 
 ini;; liames ! \\'hoean lie down w ith them in ever- 
 lastinir, everlastiii", everlastinu; hurninRs ! 
 
 "Rut whom have I to hlaine in all tiiis, but my- 
 self? What have I to aecuse, hut my own stupid 
 ineorriuihle folly ? On what is all this terrible ruin 
 to be eliar!;ed, but on this one fatal cursed cause, 
 that having broken God's law, I rejected his gospel 
 too! 
 
 " Yet stay, O my soul, in the midst of all these 
 doleful foreboding complaints. Can I say tliat I 
 have finally rejected the gospel ? Am I not to tliis 
 day under the sound of it? The sentence is not yet 
 gone forth against ine in so determinate a manner 
 as to be utterly irreversible. Through all this gloomy 
 prospect one ray of hope breaks in, and it is possible 
 I may be delivered. 
 
 " Reviving thought ! Rejoice in it, O my soul, 
 though it be with trembling ; and turn immediately 
 to that God, who, though provoked by ten thousand 
 offences, has not yet sworn in his wrath, that thou 
 shalt never be permitted to hold further intercourse 
 with him, or to enter into his rest. 
 
 " I do then, O blessed Lord, prostrate myself in 
 the dust before thee. I own I am a condemned and 
 miserable creature ; but my language is that of the 
 humble publican, God be merciful to me a sinner! 
 Some general and confused apprehensions I have of 
 a way by which I may possibly escape. O God, 
 whatever that w ay is, show it me, I beseech thee ! 
 Point it out so plainly, that I may not be able to 
 mistake it ! And oh, reconcile my heart to it, be 
 it ever so humbling, be it ever so painful ! 
 
 " Surely, Lord, I have much to learn ; but be 
 thou my teacher! Stay for a little thine uplifted 
 hand ; and, in thine infinite compassion, delay the 
 stroke, till I inquire a little further how I may 
 finally avoid it I" 
 
 CHAP. vn. 
 
 The helpless stale of the sinner under condemnation. 
 
 The sinner urjjed to consider how he can be saved from llii» impend, 
 ing ruin, \ I, 2. (1.) Not by any thiiij? he can olTer, \ 3. (2 ) Nor 
 by any thins 'if 'an endure, \ 4. (3.) Nor by any thing he can do 
 in the course of future duty, } 5. (4 ) Nor by any alliance witli fellow, 
 sinners on earth, or in licU, \ iS-H. (4.) Nor by any interposition or 
 intercession of angels or saints in his favour, { !). Hint of the only 
 method, to be afterwards more largely explained, ibid. The lament- 
 ation of a sinner in this miserable condition. 
 
 § 1. SiNNKR, thou hast heard the sentence of God, 
 as it .stands upon record in his sacred and immuta- 
 ble word. And wilt thou lie down under it in ever- 
 
 lasting despair? Wilt thou make no attempt to be 
 delivered from it, wiicn it speaks nothing less than 
 eternal death to thy soul ? If a criminal, condemned 
 by human laws, has but the least shadow of hope 
 that he may i)ossil)ly escape, he is all attention to it. 
 If there be a friend who he thinks can lielp him, 
 with what a strong importunity does he entreat the 
 interposition of tliat friend ! And even while he is 
 before the judge, how dilliciilt is it often to force him 
 away from the bar, while the cry of Mercy, mercy, 
 mercy, mercy, may be heard, though it be never so 
 unseasonable ! A mere possibility that it may make 
 some impression, makes him eager in it, and un- 
 willing to be silenced and removed. 
 
 § 2. Wilt thou not then, O sinner, ere yet execu- 
 tion is done, that execution whicli may j)erhaps be 
 done this very day, wilt thou not cast about in thy 
 thoughts what measures may be taken for deliver- 
 ance ? Yet what measures can betaken? Consider 
 attentively, for it is an affair of motnent. Thy 
 wisdom, thy power, thy eloquence, or thine interest, 
 can never be exerted on a greater occasion. If thou 
 canst help thyself, do. If thou hast any secret 
 source of relief, go not out of thyself for other assist- 
 ance. If thou hast any sacrifice to ofler, if thou hast 
 any strength to exert; yea, if thou hast any allies 
 on earth, or in the invisible world, who can defend 
 and deliver thee ; take thy own way, so that thou 
 mayst but be delivered at all, that we may not see 
 thy ruin. But say, oh sinner, in the presence of 
 God, what sacrifice thou wilt present, what strength 
 thou wilt exert, what allies thou wilt have recourse 
 to, on so urgent, so hopeless an occasion ; for hope- 
 less I must indeed pronounce it, if such methods 
 are taken. 
 
 § 3. The justice of God is injured : hast thou any 
 atonement to make to it ? If thou wast brought to 
 an inquiry and proposal, like that of an awakened 
 sinner, wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and 
 bow myself before the high God? Shall I come 
 before him with burnt offerings, with calves of a 
 year old ? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands 
 of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Alas, 
 wert thou as great a prince as Solomon himself, and 
 couldst thou indeed purchase such sacrifices as 
 these, there would be no room to mention them. 
 Lebanon would not be suiricient to burn, nor all the 
 beasts thereof for a burnt-offering. Even under that 
 dispensation, which admitted and required sacri- 
 fices in some eases, the blood of bulls and of goats, 
 though it exempted the offender from furfhertcmporal 
 punishment, could not take away sin, nor prevail 
 by any means to purge the conscience in the sight 
 of God. And that soul that had done ought pre- 
 sumptuously vpas not allowed to bring any sin- 
 offering or trespass-offering at all, but was con- 
 demned to die without mercy. Now God and thy 
 own conscience know, that thy offences have not 
 
OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 29 
 
 been merely the errors of ignorance and inadvert- 
 ency, but that thou hast sinned with an high hand 
 in repeated aggravated circumstances, as thou hast 
 acknowledged already. Shouldst thou add, with 
 the wretched sinner described above, shall I give 
 my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my 
 body for the sin of my soul ? what could the blood 
 of a beloved child do in such a case, but dye thy 
 crimes so much the deeper, and add a yet unknown 
 horror to them ? Thou hast oflended a being of infi- 
 nite majesty ; and if that offence is to be expiated 
 by blood, it must bo by another kind of blood than 
 that which flows in the veins of thy children, or in 
 thy own. 
 
 § 4. Wilt thou then suffer thyself, till thou hast 
 made full satisfaction ? But where shall that satis- 
 faction be made ? shall it be by any calamities to 
 be endured in this mortal momentary life ? Is the 
 justice of God then esteemed so little a thing, that 
 the sorrows of a few days should suffice to answer 
 its demands .' Or dost thou think of future suffer- 
 ings in the invisible world ! If thou dost, that is not 
 deliverance ; and with regard to that I may venture 
 to say, when thou hast made full satisfaction thou 
 wilt be released ; when thou hast paid the utmost 
 farthing of that debt thy prison doors shall be opened. 
 In the mean time thou must make thy bed in hell ; 
 and, O unhappy man, wilt thou lie down there, 
 with a secret hope that the moment will come, when 
 the rigour of divine justice will not be able to in- 
 flict any thing more than thou hast endured, and 
 when thou mayst claim thy discharge as a matter 
 of right It would indeed be well for thee if thou 
 couldst carry down with thee such a hope, false and 
 flattering as it is; but alas, thou wilt see things in 
 so just a light, that to have no comfort but this, will 
 be eternal despair. That one word of thy sentence, 
 Everlasting fire ; that one declaration, The worm 
 dieth not, and the fire is not quenched; will be 
 suflicie.it to strike such a thought into black confu- 
 sion, and to overwhelm thee with hopeless agony 
 and horror. 
 
 § 5. Or do you think that your future reformation, 
 and diligence in duty for the time to come, will pro- 
 cure your discharge from this sentence ? Take heed, 
 sinner, what kind of obedience thou thinkest of 
 offering to a holy God. That mH.st be spotless and 
 complete which his infinite sanctity can approve 
 and accept, if he con.sider thee in thyself alone : 
 there must be no inconstancy, no forgetfulness, no 
 mixture of sin, attending it. And wilt thou, en- 
 feebled as thou art, by so much original corruption, 
 and so many sinful habits contracted by innumer- 
 able actual transgressions, undertake to render such 
 an obedience, and that for all the remainder of thy 
 life ? In vain wouldst thou attempt it, even for one 
 day. New guilt would immediately plunge thee 
 into new ruin. But if it did not ; if from this mo- 
 
 ment to the very end of thy life all were as complete 
 obedience as the law of God required from Adam 
 in paradise, would that be sufficient to cancel past 
 guilt '. Would it discharge an old debt, that thou 
 hadst not contracted a new one? Offer this to thy 
 neighbour, and see if he will accept it for payment ; 
 and if he will not, wilt thou presume to offer it to 
 thy God ? 
 
 § 6. But I will not multiply words on so plain a 
 subject. While I speak thus, time is passing awaj', 
 death presses on, and judgment is approaching. 
 And what can save thee from these awful scenes, 
 or what can protect thee in them ? Can the world 
 save thee from that vain delusive idol of thy wishes 
 and pursuits, to which thou art sacrificing thy 
 eternal hopes ? Well dost thou know that it will 
 utterly forsake thee when thou needest it most ; and 
 that not one of its enjoyments can be carried along 
 with thee into the invisible state ; no, not so much 
 as a trifle to remember it by, if thou couldst desire 
 to remember so inconstant and so treacherous a 
 friend as the world has been. 
 
 § 7. And when you are dead, or when you are 
 dying, can 50ur sinful companions save you ? Is 
 there any one of them, if he were ever so desirous 
 of doing it, that can give unto God a ransom for 
 you, to deliver you from going down to the grave, 
 or from going down to hell ; Alas, you will pro- 
 bably be so sensible of this, that when you lie on 
 the border of the grave, you will be unwilling to 
 see or to converse with those that were once your 
 favourite companions. They will afflict you rather 
 than relieve you, even then; how much less can 
 they relieve you before the bar of God, when they 
 are overwhelmed with their own condemnation ! 
 
 § 8. As for the powers of darkness, you are sure 
 they will be far from any ability or inclination to 
 help you. Satan has been watching and labouring 
 for your destruction, and he will triumpii in it. But 
 if there could be any thing of an amicable confede- 
 racy between you, what would that be but an asso- 
 ciation in ruin ? For the day of judgment for un- 
 godly men will also be the judgment of these 
 rebellious spirits ; and the fire into which tliou, O 
 sinner, must depart, is that which was prepared for 
 the devil and his angels. 
 
 §9. Will the celestial spirits then save thee? 
 will they interpose their power, or their prayers, in 
 thy favour ? An interposition of power, when sen- 
 tence is gone forth against thee, were an act of 
 rebellion against heaven, which these holy and 
 excellent creatures would abhor. And when the 
 final pleasure of the .Judge is known, instead of in- 
 terceding in vain for the wretched criminal, they 
 would rather, with ardent zeal for the glory of their 
 Lord, and cordial acquiescence in the determination 
 of his wisdom and justice, prepare to execute it. 
 Yea, diflicult as it may at present be to conceive it, 
 
30 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 it is a certain fmth, flsat the servants of Clirist, « Iio 
 now most ten(U'rl> love yon, and most alTeetionatelj 
 seek your salvation, not exccptinjv tliosc who arc 
 allied to you iu the nearest bonds of nature or of 
 friendship ; even they sliall put their Amen to it. 
 Now indeed their bowels yearn over you, and their 
 eyes pour out tears on your aecount : now they 
 expostulate m ith you, and plead witli God for you, 
 if by any means, while there is hojic, you may be 
 plueked as a lircbrand out of the burning. But 
 alas, their remonstrances you will not regard ; and 
 as for tlieir prayers, what should they ask. for you ? 
 What but this, that you may see yourselves to be 
 undone? and that, utterly despairing; of any help 
 from yourselves, or from any created power, you 
 may lie before God in liumility and brokenness of 
 heart: that submittin<; yourselves to his righteous 
 ju(lu;ment, and in an utter denunciation of all self- 
 dependence, and of all creature dependence, you 
 may lift up an humble look towards him, as almost 
 from the depths of hell, if peradventure lie may 
 have compassion upon you, and may himself direct 
 you to that only method of rescue, which, while 
 things continue as in present circumstances they 
 are, neither earth, nor hell, nor heaven can afford 
 
 you. 
 
 Tlic Lamentation of a sinner in this miserable 
 condition. 
 
 " Oh doleful, uncomfortable, helpless state ! Oh 
 wretch that I am, to have reduced myself to it ! Poor, 
 empty, miserable, abandoned creature ! Where 
 is my pride, and the haughtiness of my heart ? 
 Where are my idol deities whom I have loved, and 
 served, after whom I have walked, and whom I 
 have sought, whilst I have been multiplying my 
 transgressions against the Majesty of heaven ? Is 
 there no hand to save me ? Have pity upon me, have 
 pity upon me, O my friends ; for the hand of God 
 hath touched me, hath seized mc ! I feci it pressing 
 me hard ; and what shall I do ? Perhaps they have 
 pity upon me ; but, alas, how feeble a compassion ! 
 Only, if there be any where in the whole compass of 
 nature any help, tell mc where it may be found ! O 
 point it out ; direct me towards it ; or rather, con- 
 founded and astonished as my mind is, take me by 
 the hand, and lead me to it. 
 
 " O ye ministers of the Lord, whose office it is to 
 guide and comfort distressed souls, take pity upon 
 me ! I fear I am a pattern of many other helpless 
 creatures, who have tlie like need of your assistance. 
 Lay aside your other cares, to care for my soul; to 
 care for this precious soul of mine, which lies as it 
 were bleeding to death, (if that expression may be 
 used,) while you perhaps hardly afford me a look ; 
 or, glancing an eye upon me, pass over to the other 
 side. Yet, alas, in a case like mine, what can your 
 
 interposition avail, if it bo alone ? if the Lord do 
 not help me, how can you help me ? 
 
 " O God of the spirits of all flesh, I lift up mine 
 eyes unto thee, and cry unto thee, as out of the belly 
 of hell. I cry unto thee, at least, from the borders 
 of it. Yet while I lie before thee in this infinite dis- 
 tress, I know that thine almighty power and bound- 
 less grace can still find out a way for my recovery. 
 
 " Thou art he whom 1 have most of all injured 
 and affronted ; and yet from thee alone must 1 now 
 seek redress. Against thee, thee oidy, have I sinned, 
 and done evil in thy sight : so that thou mightest 
 be justified when thou speakcst, and be clear when 
 thou judgest, though tliou shouldst this moment ad- 
 judge me to eternal misery. And yet I find some- 
 thing that secretly draws me to thee, as if I 
 might find rescue there, where I have deserved the 
 most aggravated destruction. Blessed God, I have 
 destroyed myself; but in thee is my help, if there 
 can be help at all. 
 
 " I know, in general, that tliy ways are not as our 
 ways, nor thy thoughts as our thoughts ; but are as 
 high above them as the heavens are above the earth. 
 Have mercy therefore upon me, O God, according 
 to thy loving-kindness, according to tlie multitude 
 of thy tender mercies ! Oh point out the path to 
 the city of refuge ! Oh lead me tliyself in the way 
 everlasting ! I know, in general, that thy gospel is 
 the only remedy ; O teach thy servants to administer 
 it ! Oh prepare mine heart to receive it ! and suffer 
 not, as in many instances, that malignity which has 
 spread itself through all my nature, to turn that 
 noble medicine into poison ! " 
 
 CHAP. VIIL 
 
 News of salvation by Christ brouylit to the convinced 
 and condemned sinner. 
 
 The awful things wliich have hitherto been said, intended not to 
 grieve, but to lielp, \ I. After some reflection on the pleasure with 
 which a minister of llie gospel may deliver the message with which 
 lie is charged, \ 2. and some reasons for the repetition of what is in 
 speculation so generally known, { ;). the author proceeds briefly 
 to declare the substance of these glad tidinjis ; viz. that God, having 
 in his infinite compassion sent his Son to die for sinners, is now recon- 
 cilable through him, } 4— G. So that the most heinous transgres. 
 sions shall be entirely pardoned to believers, and they made com- 
 pletely and eternally happy, \ 7, 8. The sinner's retlectioa on this 
 good news. 
 
 § 1. My dear reader, it is the great design of the 
 gospel, and, wherever it is cordially received, it is 
 the glorious effects of it, to fill the heart witli senti- 
 ments of love ; to teach us to abhor all unnecessary 
 rigour and severity, and to delight, not in the grief, 
 but in the happiness, of our fellow-creatures. I can 
 hardly apprehend how he can be a Christian, who 
 takes pleasure in the distress which appears even 
 in a brute, much less in that of a human mind ; and 
 especially in such distress as the thoughts I have 
 been proposing must give, if there be any due atten- 
 
OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 31 
 
 tion to their weight and energy. I have often felt 
 a tender regret, while I have been representing 
 these things ; and I could have wished from my 
 heart tliat it had not been necessary to have placed 
 tliem in so severe and so painful a light. But now 
 I am addressing myself to a part of my work, which 
 I undertake with unutterable pleasure ; and to that, 
 which indeed I had in view, in all those awful 
 things which I have already been laying before you. 
 I have been showing you, that if you hitherto have 
 lived in a state of impenitence and sin, you are 
 condemned by God's righteous judgment, and have 
 in yourself no spring of hope, and no possibility of 
 deliverance. But I mean not to leave you under 
 this sad apprehension, to lie down and die in 
 despair, complaining of that cruel zeal, which has 
 tormented you before your time. 
 
 § 2. Arise, O thou dejected soul, that art prostrate 
 in the dust before God, and trembling under the 
 terror of his righteous sentence ; for I am commis- 
 sioned to tell thee, that though thou hast destroyed 
 thyself, in God is thy help. I bring thee good 
 tidings of great joy, which delight my own heart, 
 while I proclaim them, and will, I hope, reach and 
 revive thine ; even the tidings of salvation, by the 
 blood and righteousness of the Redeemer. And I 
 give it thee for thy greater security, in the words of 
 a gracious and forgiving God, that " he is in Christ 
 reconciling the world unto himself, and not im- 
 puting to them their trespasses." 
 
 § 3. This is the best news that ever was heard, 
 the most important message which God ever sent to 
 his creatures : and though I doubt not at all but, 
 living as you have done, in a Christian country, 
 you have heard it often, perhaps a thousand and a 
 thousand times, I will, with all simplicity and 
 plainness, repeat it to you again, and repeat it a.s 
 if you had never heard it before. If thou, O sin- 
 ner, shouldst now for the first time feel it, then will 
 it be as a new gospel unto thee, though so familiar 
 to thy ear ; nor shall it be grievous for rae to 
 s-peak what is so common, since to you it is safe 
 and necessary. They who are most deeply and in- 
 timately acquainted with it, instead of being cloyed 
 and satiated, will hear it with distinguished plea- 
 sure ; and as for those who have hitherto slighted 
 it, I am sure they had need to hear it again. Nor 
 is it absolutely impossible, that some one soul at 
 least may read these lines, who hath never been 
 clearly and fully instructed in this important doc- 
 trine, though his everlasting all depends on know- 
 ing and receiving it. I will therefore take care 
 that such a one shall not have it to plead at the bar 
 of God, that though \u: lived in a flhristian country, 
 he was never plainly and faithfully taught the doc- 
 trine of salvation by Jesus Christ, the way, the 
 truth, and the life, by whom alone wc come unto 
 the Father. 
 
 k 4. I do therefore testify unto you this day, that 
 the holy and gracious Majesty of heaven and earth, 
 foreseeing the fatal apostasy into which the whole 
 human race would fall, did not determine to deal 
 in a way of strict and rigorous severity with us, so 
 as to consign us over to universal ruin and inevit- 
 able damnation : but on the contrary, he deter- 
 mined to enter into a treaty of peace and recon- 
 ciliation, and to publish to all, whom the gospel 
 should reach, the express offers of life and glory, 
 in a certain method, which his infinite wisdom 
 judged suitable to the purity of his nature, and the 
 honour of his government. This method was in- 
 deed a most astonishing one, which, familiar as it 
 is to our thoughts and our tongues, I cannot recol- 
 lect and mention without great amazement. He 
 determined to send his own Son into the world, the 
 brightness of his glory, and the express image of 
 his person, partaker of his own divine perfections 
 and honours, to be not merely a teacher of right- 
 eousness, and a messenger of grace, but also a 
 sacrifice for the sins of men ; and would consent to 
 his saving them, on no other condition but this, that 
 he should not only labour but die in the cause. 
 
 § 5. Accordingly, at such a period of time as In- 
 finite Wisdom saw most convenient, the Lord Jesus 
 Christ appeared in human flesh ; and after he had 
 gone through incessant and long-continued fatigues, 
 and borne all the preceding injuries, which the in- 
 gratitude and malice of men could inflict, he volun- 
 tarily submitted himself to death, even the death of 
 the cross ; and having been delivered for our of- 
 fences, was raised again for our justification. After 
 his resurrection, he continued long enough on earth 
 to give his followers most convincing evidences of 
 it, and then ascended into heaven in their sight ; 
 and sent down his Spirit from tlience upon liis 
 apostles, to enable them, in the most persuasive and 
 authoritative manner, to preach the gospel : and he 
 has given it in charge to them, and to those who 
 in every age succeed them in this part of their 
 oflice, that it should be published to every creature ; 
 tliat all who believe in it may be saved, by viitue 
 of its abiding energy, and the immutable power and 
 grace of its divine Author, who is the same yester- 
 day, to-day, and for ever. 
 
 § 6. This gospel do I therefore now preach and 
 proclaim unto thee, O reader, with the sinccrest 
 desire, that, through divine grace, it may this very 
 day be salvation to thy soul. Know therefore, and 
 consider it, whosoever thou art, that as surely as 
 these words are now before thy eyes, so sure it is, 
 that tlie incarnate Son of God was made a spectacle 
 to the world, and to angels, and to men ; his back 
 torn with scourges, his head with thorns, his limbs 
 stretched out as on a rack, and nailed to the accursed 
 tree ; and in this miserable condition he was hung 
 by his hands and his feet, as an object of public 
 
32 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 infamy niul contcMupl. Tims did ho die, in llie 
 midst of all the taunts and insults of his eiuel 
 enemies, who thirsted for his blood ; and, whieh was 
 the sadtlest eirouuistanee of all, in the midst of 
 these ajjonies with whieh he closed the most inno- 
 cent, perfeet, and useful life that ever was spent 
 upon earth, he had not those supports of the divine 
 presence, « hieh sinful men have often experienced, 
 when they have been stifl'erinn- for the testimony of 
 their conscience. They have often burst out into 
 transports of joy, and songs of praise, while their 
 executioners have been glutting their hellish malice, 
 and more than savage l)arbarity, by making tlieir 
 torments artificially grievous ; but the crucified 
 Jesus cried out, in the distress of liis spotless and 
 holy soul. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
 me 
 
 § 7. Look upon our dear Redeemer ; look up to 
 this mournful, dreadful, yet, in one view, delightful, 
 spectacle ; and then ask thy own heart, Do I be- 
 lieve that Jesus suffered and died thus? And 
 why did he suffer and die? Let me answer in God's 
 own words: He was wounded for our transgressions, 
 he was l)ruised for our iniquities, and tlie chastise- 
 ment of our peace was upon him, that l)y his stripes 
 we niiglit be healed ; it pleased tlic Lord to Ijruise 
 him, and to put liim to grief, when he made his 
 soul an otfering for sin ; for the Lord laid on him the 
 iniquity of us all. So that I may address you in 
 tlie words of the apostle. Be it known unto you 
 therefore, tliat through this Man is preached unto 
 you the forgiveness of sijis ; as it was his command, 
 just after he rose fiom the dead, that repentance and 
 remission of sins should he preached in his name 
 among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem : the 
 very place wliere liis blood had so lately been shed 
 in such a cruel manner. I do therefore testify to 
 you, in the words of anotlier inspired writer, that 
 Christ was made sin, that is, a sin-offering, for us, 
 though he knew no sin, that we might be made the 
 righteousness of God in liim ; that is, that through 
 the riglitcousness he has fulfilled, and the atone- 
 ment he has made, we might be accepted by God as 
 righteous, and be not only pardoned, but received 
 into his favour. To you is tlie word of this salva- 
 tion sent ; and to you, O reader, are the blessings of 
 it even now offered by God, sincerely offered ; so that, 
 after all that I have said under the former heads, 
 it is not your having broken the law of God, that 
 shall prove your ruin, if you do not also reject his 
 gospel. It is not all those legions of sins, which 
 rise up in battle-array against you, that shall be 
 able to destroy you, if unbelief do not lead them on, 
 and (inal inipenitency do not bring up the rear. I 
 know that guilt is a timorous thing ; T will there- 
 fore speak in the words of God himself, nor can 
 any be more comfortable : He that believeth on the 
 Son, hath everlasting life ; and he shall never come 
 
 into condciiiiiation : there is therefore now no con- 
 demnation, no kind or degree of it, to any one of 
 them, who are in Jesus Christ, who walk not after 
 the ilesh, but after the Spirit. You have indeed 
 been a very great sinner, and your offences have 
 truly been attended witii most heinous aggravations ; 
 nevertheless, you may rejoice in the assurance, that 
 where sin hath al)ounded, there shall grace much 
 more abound ; that \\ here sin hath reigned unto 
 deatli, where it has had its most unlimited sway, 
 and most unresisted triumph, there shall righteous- 
 ness reign to eternal life through Jesus Christ our 
 Lord. That righteousness, to which on believing 
 on him thou wilt be entitled, shall not only break 
 those chains, by which sin is (as it were) dragging 
 thee at its chariot wheels with a furious pace to 
 eternal ruin ; but it shall clothe thee with the 
 robes of salvation, shall fix thee on a throne of glory, 
 where thou shalt live and reign for ever among the 
 princes of heaven ; shalt reign in immortal beauty 
 and joy ; without one remaining scar of divine dis- 
 pleasure upon thee ; without one single mark by 
 whieh it could be known, that thou hadst ever been 
 obnoxious to wrath and a curse ; except it be an an- 
 them of praise to the Lamb that was slain, and has 
 washed thee from thy sins in his own blood. 
 
 § 8. Nor is it necessary, in order to thy being re- 
 leased from guilt, and entitled to this high and com- 
 plete felicity, that thou sliouldst, before thou wilt 
 venture to apply to Jesus, bring any good works of 
 thy own to recommend thee to his acceptance. It 
 is indeed true, that if thy faith be sincere, it will 
 certainly produce them, l)ut I have the authority of 
 the word of God to tell thee, that if thou this day 
 sincerely believest in the name of the Son of God, 
 thou shalt this day be taken under his care, and be 
 numbered among those of his .slieep, to whom he 
 hath graciously declared, that he will give eternal 
 life, and tliat they shall never perish. Thou hast no 
 need therefore to say. Who shall go up into heaven, 
 or who shall descend into the deep for me ? for tlie 
 word is nigh thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart. 
 With this joyful message I leave thee; with this 
 faithful saying, indeed worthy of all acceptation ; 
 with this gospel, O sinner, wliich is my life, and 
 which, if thou dost not reject it, will be thine too. 
 
 The sirnier's Reflection on this f/ood news. 
 
 " On, my soul, how astonishing is the message 
 which thou hast this day received ! I have indeed 
 often heard it before; and it is grown so common to 
 me, that the surprise is not .sensible. But reficct, O 
 my soul, what is it thou hast licard ; and say, whe- 
 ther the name of the Saviour, whose message it is, 
 may not well be called Wonderful, Counsellor, when 
 he di.splays before thee such wonders of love, and 
 proj)oses to thee such counsels of peace? 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 " Blessed Jesus, is it indeed thus? is it not the 
 fiction of the human mind ? Surely it is not ! what 
 human mind could have invented or conceived it ! 
 Is it a plain, a certain fact, that thou didst leave the 
 magnificence and joy of the heavenly world, in com- 
 passion to such a wretch as I ! O hadst thou, from 
 that height of dignity, and felicity, only looked down 
 upon me for a moment, and sent some gracious 
 word to me for my direction and comfort, even by 
 the least of thy servants, justly might I have pros- 
 trated myself in grateful admiration, and have 
 kissed the very footsteps of him that published the 
 salvation. But didst thou condescend to be thyself 
 the messenger; what grace had that been though 
 thou hadst but once in person made the declaration, 
 and immediately returned back to the throne, from 
 whence divine compassion brought thee down ! But 
 this is not all the triumph of thine illustrious grace. 
 It not only brought thee down to earth, but kept 
 thee here, in a frail and wretched tabernacle, for 
 long successive years ; and at length it cost thee thy 
 life, and stretched thee out as a malefactor upon the 
 cross, after thou hadst borne insults and cruelty, 
 which it may justly wound my heart so much as to 
 think of. And thus thou hast atoned injured justice, 
 and redeemed me to God with thine ow n blood. 
 
 " What shall I say ? Lord, I believe, help thou 
 mine unbelief! It seems to put faith to the stretch, 
 to admit, w hat it indeed exceeds the utmost stretch 
 of imagination to conceive. Blessed, for ever bless- 
 ed, be thy name, O thou Father of mercies, that thou 
 hast contrived the way I Eternal thanks to the Lamb 
 that was slain, and to that kind providence that sent 
 the word of this salvation to me ! Oh let me not, for 
 ten thousand worlds, receive the grace of God in 
 \ain ! Oh impress this gospel upon my soul, till its 
 saving virtue be diffused over every faculty ! Let it 
 not only be heard, and acknowledged, and profess- 
 ed, but felt ! Make it thy power to my eternal sal- 
 vation ; and raise me to that humble tender grati- 
 tude, to that active unwearied zeal in thy service, 
 which becomes one to whom so much is forgiven, 
 and forgiven upon such terms as these ! 
 
 " I feel a sudden glow in my heart, while these 
 tidings are sounding in mine cars : but oh, let it 
 not be a slight superficial transport ! Oh let not this, 
 which I would fain call my Christian joy, be as that 
 foolish laughter, with which I have been so madly 
 enchanted, like the crackling blaze of thorns under 
 a pot ! Oh teach me to secure this mighty blessing, 
 this glorious hope, in the method which Ihou hast 
 appointed ! and preserve me from mistaking the joy 
 of nature, while it catches a glimpse of its rescue 
 from destruction, for that consent of grace, which 
 embraces and insures the deliverance !" 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 33 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 A more particular account of the way by which this 
 salvation is to be obtained. 
 
 An inquiry into tlie way of salvation by Clirist being supposed, } I. 
 llie sinner is in g^eneral directed to repentance and faitli, \ 2, and 
 ur^ed to give up all self-de))endence, \ 3. and to seek salvation by 
 free grace, \ 4. A siinmtary ot more particular directions is pro- 
 posed, '{ 5. (I.) That the sinner sliovild apply to Clirist, 5 6. with 
 deep al)horrence of bis former sins, § 7. and a tirm resolution of for- 
 saking them, \ 8. (2.) That be solemnly commit his soul into the 
 hands of Christ, the great vital act of faith, 5 9. which is exemplified 
 at large, } 10. (3.) That he make it in fact the governing care of hrs 
 future lite to obey and imitate Christ, 5 1 1. This is the only method 
 of obtaining gospel salvation, ^ 12. The sinner deliberating on the 
 expediency of accepting it. 
 
 ^ 1. I NOW consider you, my dear reader, as coming 
 to me with the inquiry which the Jews once ad- 
 dressed to our Lord, What shall w e do that we may 
 work the works of God .' " What method shall I 
 take to secure that redemption and salvation which 
 I am told Christ has procured for his people ?" I 
 would answer it as seriously and carefully as pos- 
 sible ; as one that knows of what importance it is 
 to you to be rightly informed, and that knows also 
 how strictly he is to answer to God, for the sin- 
 cerity and care with which the reply is made. May 
 I be enabled to speak as his oracle, that is, in such 
 a manner as faithfully to echo back what the sacred 
 oracles teach ! 
 
 § 2. And here, that I may be sure to follow the 
 safest guides and the fairest examples, I must preach 
 salvation to you in the way of repentance towards 
 God, and of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. That 
 good old doctrine which the apostles preached, and 
 which no man can pretend to change, but at the 
 peril of his own soul, and of tlieirs who attend to him. 
 
 § 3. I suppose that you are by this time convinced 
 of your guilt and condemnation, and of your own 
 inability to recover yourself. Let me nevertheless 
 urge you to feel that conviction yet more deeply, 
 and to impress it with yet greater weight upon your 
 soul ; that you have undone yourself, and that in 
 yourself is not your help found. Be persuaded, 
 therefore, expressly, and solemnly, and sincerely, 
 to give up all self-dependence ; which, if you do 
 not guard against, will be ready to return secretly, 
 before it is observed, and will lead you to attempt 
 building up what you have just been destroying. 
 ^ ^ 4. Be assured, that if ever you are saved, you 
 must ascribe that salvation entirely to the free grace 
 of God. If, guilty and miserable as you are, you 
 are not only accepted, but crowned, you must lay 
 down your crown w ith all humble acknow ledgment 
 before the throne. No flesh must glory in his pre- 
 sence ; but he that glorieth must glory in the Lord : 
 for of him are we in Christ Jesus, who of God is 
 made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanc- 
 tification, and redemption. And you must be sen- 
 sible you are in such a state, as, having none of 
 these in yourself, to need them in another. You 
 
34 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 must (Iicrcfoic he scnsiMe tliat you arc i<;ii()i'ant and 
 guilty, polluted and enslaved; or, as our Lord ex- 
 presses it, with regard to some who are under a 
 Christian profession, that as a sinner, you arc 
 %vretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and 
 naked. 
 
 ^ o. If these views be deeply impressed upon your 
 mind, you will be prepared to receive what I am 
 now to say. Hear, therefore, in a few words your 
 duty, your remedy, and your safety; which consists 
 in this, "That you must apply to Christ, with a deep 
 abhorrence of your former sins, and a firm resolu- 
 tion of forsaking; them : forming that resolution in 
 the strength of his grace, and fixing your depend- 
 ence on him for your acceptance with God, even 
 while you arc purposing to do your very best, and 
 when you have actually done the best you ever will 
 do in consequence of that purpose." 
 
 § (5. The first and most important advice that I can 
 give you in your present circumstances, is, that you 
 look to Christ, and applyyourself to him. And here, 
 say not in your heart, Who shall ascend into heaven, 
 to bring him down to me ? or. Who shall raise me up 
 thither, to present me before him ? The blessed Jesus, 
 by ■^^ hom all things consist, by whom the whole sys- 
 tem of them is supported, " forgotten as he is by 
 most that bear his name," is not far from any of us : 
 nor could he have promised to have been wherever 
 two or three are met together in his name, but in 
 consequence of those truly divine perfections by 
 which he is every where present. W^ould you there- 
 fore, O sinner, desire to be saved? go to the Sa- 
 viour. W^ould you desire to be delivered ? look 
 to that great Deliverer : and though you should be 
 so overwhelmed with guilt, and shame, and fear, 
 and horror, that you should be incapable of speak- 
 ing to him, fall down in this speechless confusion at 
 his feet ; and behold him as the Lamb of God, that 
 taketh away the sins of the world. 
 
 § 7. Behold him therefore with an attentive eye, 
 and say, whether the sight does not touch, and 
 oven melt, thy very heart ? Dost thou not feel what 
 a foolish and what a wretched creature thou hast 
 been ; that for the sake of such low and sordid 
 gratifications and interests, as those which thou 
 hast been pursuing, thou shouldst thus kill the 
 Prince of life ? Behold the deep wounds which 
 he bore for thee. Look on him whom thou hast 
 pierced, and surely thou must mourn, unless thy 
 heart be hardened into stone. Which of thy past 
 sins canst thou reflect upon, and say, " For that it 
 was worth my while thus to have injured my Sa- 
 viour, and to liave exposed the Son of God to such 
 suflerings?" And what future temptations can 
 arise, so considerable that thou shouldst say, " For 
 the sake of this I will crucify my Lord again ?" 
 Sinner, thou must repent of every sin, and must for- 
 sake it; but if thou dost it to any purpose, I well 
 
 know it must be at the foot of the cross. Thou must 
 sacrifice every lust, even the dearest ; though it 
 should be like a right hand or a right eye ; and 
 therefore, that thou mayst, if possible, be animated 
 to it, I have led thee to that altar on which Christ 
 himself was sacrificed for thee, an offering of a sweet 
 smelling savour. Thou must yield up thyself to 
 God, as one alive from the dead ; and therefore I 
 have showed thee at what a price he purchased 
 thee : for thou wast not redeemed with corruptible 
 things, as silver and gold, but with t)ie precious 
 blood of the Son of God, that Lamb without blemish 
 and without spot. And now I would ask thee, as 
 before the Lord, What does thy own heart say to it? 
 Art thou grieved for thy former offences ? Art thou 
 willing to forsake thy sins ? Art thou willing to be- 
 come the cheerful, thankful servant of him who 
 hath purchased thee with his own blood ? 
 
 § 8. I will suppose such a purpose as this arising 
 in thy heart. How determinate it is, and how ef- 
 fectual it may be, I know not ; what different views 
 may rise hereafter, or how soon the present sense 
 may wear off. But this I assuredly know, that thou 
 wilt never see reason to change these views ; for 
 however thou mayst alter, the Lord Jesus Christ 
 is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. And 
 the reasons that now recommend repentance and 
 faith as fit and necessary, will continue invariable, 
 as long as the perfections of the blessed God are 
 the same, and as long as his Son continues the same. 
 
 § 9. But while you have these views and these 
 purposes, I must remind you that this is not all 
 which is necessary to your salvation. You must 
 not only purpose, but, as God gives opportunity, 
 you must act, as those who are convinced of the evil 
 of sin, and of the necessity and excellence of holi- 
 ness. And that you may be enabled to do so in 
 other instances, you must, in the first place, and as 
 the first great work of God, (as our Lord himself 
 calls it,) believe in him whom God hath sent : you 
 must confide in him ; " must commit your soul into 
 the hands of Christ, to be saved by him in his own 
 appointed method of salvation." This is the great 
 act of saving faith ; and I pray God that you may 
 experimentally know what it means ; so as to bo 
 able to say, with the apostle Paul, in the near views 
 of death itself, I know whom I have believed, and 
 am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I 
 have committed to him until that day ; that great 
 decisive day, which, if vre are Christians, we have 
 always in view. To this I would urge you ; and O 
 that I could be so happy as to engage you to it, while 
 I am illustrating it in this and the following ad- 
 dresses ! Be assured, you must not apply yourselves 
 immediately to God, as absolutely, or in himself con- 
 sidered, in the neglect of a mediator. It will neither 
 be acceptable to him, nor safe for you, to rush into 
 his presence, without any regard to his own Son, 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 whom he hath appointed to introduce sinners to 
 him. And if you come otherwise, you come as one 
 who is not a sinner. The very manner of present- 
 ing: the address will be interpreted as a denial of 
 that fc"ilt with which he knows you are chargeable ; 
 and therefore he will not admit you, nor so much 
 as look upon you. And accordingly, our Lord, 
 knowing how much every man living was concerned 
 in this, says in the most universal terms, No man 
 Cometh unto the Father but by me. 
 
 § 10. Apply therefore to this glorious Redeemer, 
 amiable (as he will appear to every believing eye,) 
 in the blood which he shed upon the cross, and in 
 the wounds which he received there. Go to him, 
 O sinner, this day, this moment, with all thy sins 
 about thee. Go just as thou art ; for if thou wilt 
 never apply to him till thou art first righteous and 
 holy, thou M ilt never be righteous and holy at all : 
 nor canst be so on this supposition, unless there 
 were some way of being so without him ; and then 
 there would be no occasion for applying to him for 
 righteousness and holiness. It were indeed as if it 
 should be said, that a sick man should defer his 
 application to a physician, till his health is recover- 
 ed. Let me therefore repeat it without offence, go 
 to him just as thou art, and say, (O that thou mayst 
 this moment be enabled to say it from thy very 
 soul !) " Blessed Jesus, I am surely one of the most 
 sinful, and one of the most miserable, creatures that 
 ever fell prostrate before thee : nevertheless, I come, 
 because I have heard that thou didst once say, Come 
 unto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, 
 and I will give you rest. I come, because I have 
 heard thou didst graciously say. Him that comcth 
 unto me, I will in no wise cast out. O thou Prince 
 of peace, O thou King of glorj , I am a condemned 
 miserable sinner. I have ruined my own soul, and 
 am condeirmed for ever, if thou dost not help me, 
 and save me. I have broken thy Father's law and 
 thine, for thou art one with him. I have deserved 
 condemnation and wrath ; and I am even at this 
 very moment under a sentence of everlasting de- 
 struction ; a destruction which will be aggravated 
 by all the contempt which I have ca.st upon thee, 
 
 0 thou bleeding Lamb of God ; for I cannot, and 
 will not, dissemble it before thee, that I have wronged 
 thee, most basely and ungratefully wronged thee, 
 under the character of a Saviour, as well as of a 
 Lord. But now I am willing to submit to thee, and 
 
 1 have brought my poor trembling soul, to lodge it 
 in thine hands, if thou wilt condescend to receive 
 it, and if thou dost not, it must perish. O Lord, I 
 lie at thy feet ; .stretch out thy golden sceptre that 
 I may live ! Yea, if it please the King, let the life 
 of my soul be given me at my petition ! I have no 
 treasure wherewith to purchase it ; I have no equi- 
 valent to give thee for it ; but if that compassionate 
 heart of thine can find a pleasure in saving one of 
 
 D 2 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 35 
 
 the most distressed creatures under heaven, that 
 pleasure thou mayst here find. O Lord, I have 
 foolishly attempted to be mine own saviour; but it 
 will not do. I am sensible the attempt is vain ; 
 and therefore I give it over, and look unto thee. 
 On thee, blessed Jesus, who art sure and stedfast, 
 do I desire to fix my anchor. On thee, as the only 
 sure foundation, would I build my eternal hopes. 
 To thy teaching, O thou unerring Prophet of the 
 Lord, would I submit : be thy doctrines ever so 
 mysterious, it is enough for me that thou thyself 
 hast said it. To thine atonement, obedience, and 
 intercession, O thou holy and ever acceptable High 
 Priest, would I trust. And to thy government, O 
 thou exalted Sovereign, would I yield a willing 
 delightful subjection : in token of reverence and 
 love, I kiss the Son ; I kiss the ground before his 
 feet. I admit thee, O my Saviour, and welcome 
 thee with unutterable joy to the throne in my heart. 
 Ascend it, and reign there for ever ! Subdue mine 
 enemies, O Lord, for they are thine ; and make me 
 thy faithful and zealous servant ; faithful to death, 
 and zealous to eternity ! " 
 
 § 11. Such as this must be the language of j'our 
 heart before the Lord. But then remember, that in 
 consequence thereof, it must be the language of 
 your life too. The unmeaning words of the lips 
 would be a vain mockery. The most affectionate 
 transport of the passions, should it be transient and 
 ineffectual, would be but like a blaze of straw, pre- 
 sented instead of incense at his altar. With such 
 humility, with sucli love, with such cordial self- 
 dedication and submission of soul, must thou often 
 prostrate thyself in the presence of Christ ; and 
 then thou must go away, and keep him in thy view ; 
 must go away, and live unto God through him, de- 
 nying ungodliness and worldly lusts, and behaving 
 thyself soberly, righteously, and godly in this vain 
 insnaring world. You must make it your care to 
 show your love by obedience ; by forming yourself, 
 as much as possible, according to the temper and 
 manner of Jesus, in whom you believe. You must 
 make it the great point of your ambition, (and a 
 nobler view you cannot entertain,) to be a living 
 image of Christ ; that .so far as circumstances will 
 allow, even those who have heard and read but 
 little of him, may, by observing you, in some mea- 
 sure see and know wiiat kind of a life that of the 
 blessed Jesus was. And this must be your con- 
 stant care, your prevailing character, as long as you 
 live. You must follow him, whithersoever he leads 
 you ; must follow with a cross on your shoulder, 
 when he (commands you to take it up ; ai;d so must be 
 faithful even unto death, expecting the crown of life. 
 
 § 12. This, so far as I have been able to learn 
 from the word of God, is tlie way to safety and 
 glory ; the surest, the only, way you can take. It 
 is the way which every faithful minister of Christ 
 
36 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 has trod, and is troadin^' : and tlieway to which, as 
 he tenders tlic salvation of his own .soul, he must 
 direct others. Wc cannot, wc would not, alter it, 
 in favour of ourselves, or of our dearest friends. It 
 is the way in which alone, so far as we can judge, 
 it becomes the blessed fJod to save his apostate 
 creatures. And tlierelbrc, reader, I beseech and 
 entreat you, seriously to consider it ; and let your 
 own conscience answer, as in the presence of God, 
 whether you are vvillinf^ to acquiesce in it, or not. 
 But know, that to reject it is thy eternal death. 
 For as there is no other name under heaven given 
 among men whereby we can be saved, but this of 
 .Tesus of Nazareth, so there is no other method but 
 this, in vvhicli Jesus himself will save us. 
 
 The sinner deliberating on the expediency of fallinc/ 
 in with this method of salvation. 
 
 " Consider, O my soul, what answer v^ilt thou re- 
 turn to such proposals as these ? Surely, if I were 
 to speak the first dictate of this corrupt and de- 
 generate heart, it would be, This is a hard saying, 
 and who can hear it ? To be thus humbled, thus 
 mortified, thus subjected ! To take such a yoke upon 
 me, and to carry it as long as I live! To give up 
 every darling lust, though dear to me as a right 
 eye, and seemingly necessary as a right hand ! To 
 submit not only my life, but my heart, to the com- 
 mand and discipline of another ! To have a master 
 there, and such a master, as will control many of 
 its favourite aftections, and direct them quite into 
 another channel ; a master who himself represents 
 his commands, by taking up the cross and follow- 
 ing him ! To adhere to the strictest rules of godliness 
 and sobriety, of righteousness and truth ; not de- 
 parting from them, in any allowed instance, great 
 or small, upon any temptation for any advantage, 
 to escape any inconvenience and evil, no, not even 
 for the preservation of life itself ; but, upon a proper 
 call of Providence, to act as if I hated even my own 
 life ! Lord, it is hard to ilesh and blood ; and yet I 
 perceive and feel there is one demand yet harder 
 than this. 
 
 " With all these precautions, with all these mor- 
 tifications, the pride of my nature would find some 
 inward resource of pleasure, might I but secretly 
 think that I had been my own saviour ; that my 
 own wisdom, and my own resolution, had broken 
 the bands and chains of the enemy ; and that I had 
 drawn out of my own treasures, the price with which 
 my redemption was purchased. But must I lie 
 down before another as guilty and condemned, as 
 weak and helpless ? and must the obligation be 
 multiplied, and must a mediator have his share too ? 
 Must I go to thy cross for my salvation, and seek 
 my glory from the infamy of that ? Must I be strip- 
 ped pf every pleasing pretence to righteousness. 
 
 and stand in this respect upon a level with the 
 vilest of men '. Stand at the bar amongst the great- 
 est criminals, pleading guilty with them, and seek- 
 ing deliverance by that very act of grace, whereby 
 they have obtained it ? 
 
 " I dare not deliberately say, this method is un- 
 reasonable. My conscience testifies, that I have 
 sinned, and cannot be justified before God, as an 
 iiHiocent and ol)edient creature. My conscience 
 tells mc, that all these humbling circumstances arc 
 fit; that it is lit a convicted criminal should be 
 brought upon his knees ; that a captive rebel 
 should give up the weaponsof his rebellion, and bow 
 before his sovereign, if he expect his life. Yea, my 
 reason, as well as my conscience, tells me, that it is 
 fit and necessary, that if I am saved at all, I should 
 be saved from the power and love of sin, as well as 
 from the condemnation of it : and that if sovereign 
 mercy gives me a new life, after having deserved 
 eternal death, it is most fit I should yield myself to 
 God, as alive from the dead. But, oh wretched 
 man that I am, I feel a law in my members that wars 
 against the law of my mind, and opposes the con- 
 viction of my reason and conscience. Who shall 
 deliver me from this bondage ? Who shall make me 
 willing to do that, which I know in my own soul to 
 be most expedient ? O Lord, subdue my heart, and 
 let it not be drawn so strongly one way, while the 
 nobler powers of my mind would direct it another! 
 Conquer every licentious principle within, that it 
 may be my joy to be so wisely governed, and re- 
 strained ! Especially, subdue my pride, that lordly 
 corruption, which so ill suits an impoverished and 
 a condemned creature ; that thy way of salvation be 
 made amiable to mc, in proportion to the degree in 
 which it is humbling ! I feel a disposition to linger 
 in Sodom, but oh be merciful to me, and pull me 
 out of it, before the storm of thy flaming vengeance 
 fall, and there be no more escaping!" 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The sijnier seriously urged and entreated to aceept of 
 salvation in this tvuy. 
 
 Since many who have been impressed with these things suffer the im. 
 pression to wear off in vain, } 1. strongly as the rase speaks for 
 itself, sinners are to be entreated to accept this salvation, } 2. Ac- 
 cnrdinffly, the reader is entreated, (1.) By the majesty and mercy of 
 God, \ 3. (2.) By the dyins love of our Lord Jesiis Christ, \ 4. (3.) 
 By the regard due to fcllow.creatures, \ 5. (4.) By the worth of his 
 own immortal soul, } 6. The matter is solemnly left witli the reader, 
 as before God, 5 7. The sinner yielding to these entreaties, and de- 
 claring his acceptance of salvation by Christ. 
 
 ^ 1. This far have I often known convictions and 
 impressions to ari.se, (if I might judge by the 
 strongest appearance,) which after all have worn off 
 again. Some unhappy circumstance of external 
 temptation, ever joined by the inward reluctance of 
 an unsanctified heart to this holy and humbling 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 scheme of redemption, has been the ruin of mul- 
 titudes. And througli the deceitfulness of sin, they 
 have been hardened, till they seem to have been 
 utterly destroyed, and that without remedy. And 
 therefore, O thou immortal creature, who art now 
 reading these lines, I beseech thee, that while affairs 
 are in this critical situation, while there are these 
 balancings of mind between accepting and reject- 
 ing that glorious gospel, which, in the integrity of 
 my heart, I have now been laying before you, you 
 would once more give me an attentive audience, 
 while I plead in God's behalf, (shall I say ?) or 
 rather in your own : while as an ambassador from 
 Christ, and as though God did beseech you by me, 
 I pray you in Christ's stead, that you would be re- 
 conciled to God ; and would not, after these awaken- 
 ings and these inquiries, by a madness which it will 
 surely be the doleful business of a miserable eternity 
 to lament, reject this compassionate counsel of God 
 towards you. 
 
 § 2. One would indeed imagine there should be 
 no need of importunity here. One would conclude, 
 that as soon as perishing sinners are told, that an 
 offended God is ready to be reconciled ; that he 
 offers them a full pardon for all their aggravated 
 sins ; yea, that he is willing to adopt them into his 
 family now, that he may at length admit them to 
 his heavenly presence ; all should with the utmost 
 readiness and pleasure embrace so kind a message, 
 and fall at his feet in speechless transports of as- 
 tonishment, gratitude, and joy. But alas, we find 
 it much otherwise. We see multitudes quite un- 
 moved, and the impressions which are made on 
 many more, are feeble and transient. Lest it should 
 be thus with you, O reader, let me urge the message 
 with which I have the honour to be charged : let 
 me entreat you to be reconciled to God, and to ac- 
 cept of pardon and salvation in the way in which it 
 is so freely offered to you. 
 
 § 3. I entreat you, " by the majesty of that God, 
 in whose name I come ;" whose voice fills all heaven 
 with reverence and obedience. He speaks not in 
 vain to legions of angels ; but if there could be any 
 contention among those blessed spirits, it woulfl be, 
 who should be first to execute his commands. O 
 let him not speak in vain to a wretched mortal ! I 
 entreat you, " by the terrors of his wrath," who 
 could speak to you in thunder; who could, by one 
 single act of his will, cut off this precarious life of 
 yours, and send you down to hell. I beseech you, 
 "by his mercies, by his tender mercies;" by the 
 bowels of his compassion, whicii still yearn over 
 you, as those of a parent over a dear son, over a 
 tender child, whom notwithstanding his former un- 
 grateful rebellion, he Ccirnestly remembers still. I 
 beseech and entreat you, " by all this paternal good- 
 ness," that you do not (as it were) compel him to 
 lose the character of the gentle parent in that of 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 37 
 
 the righteous judge; so that (as he threatens willi 
 regard to those whom he hath just called his sons 
 and daughters) a fire shall be kindled in his anger, 
 which shall burn unto the lowest hell. 
 
 § 4. I beseech you, further, " by the name and 
 love of our dying Saviour." I beseech you, by all 
 the condescension of his incarnation ; by that 
 poverty to which he voluntarily submitted, that you 
 might be enriched with eternal treasures ; by all the 
 gracious invitations which he gave, which still 
 sound in his word, and still coming (as it were) 
 warm from his heart, are sweeter than honey or the 
 honeycomb. I beseech you, by all his glorious 
 works of power and of wonder, which were also 
 works of love. I beseech you, by the memory of 
 the most benevolent person, and the most generous 
 friend. I beseech you, by the memory of wliat he 
 suffered, as well as of what he said and did ; 
 by the agony which he endured in the garden, when 
 his body was covered with a dew of blood. I be- 
 seech you, by all that tender distress which he felt, 
 when his dearest friends forsook him and fled, and 
 his blood-thirsty enemies dragged him away, like 
 the meanest of slaves, and like the vilest of crimi- 
 nals. I beseech you, by the blows and bruises, by 
 the stripes and lashes, which this injured Sovereign 
 endured while in their rebellious hands ; by the 
 shame of spitting, from which he hid not that kind 
 and venerable countenance. I beseech you, by the 
 purple robe, the sceptre of reed, and the crown of 
 thorns, which this King of glory wore, that he might 
 set us among the princes of heaven. I beseech you; 
 by the heavy burthen of the cross, under which he 
 panted, and toiled, and fainted, in the painful way 
 to Golgotha, that he might free us from the burthen 
 of our sins. I beseech you, by the remembrance of 
 those rude nails, that tore the veins and arteries, the 
 nerves and tendons, of his sacred hands and feet ; 
 and by that invincible, that triumphant goodness, 
 which while the iron pierced his flesh, engaged him 
 to cry out, Father forgive them, for they know not 
 what they do. I beseech you, by that unutterable 
 anguish which he bore, when lifted up upon the 
 cross, and extended there as on a rack, for six 
 painful hours, that you open your hearts to those 
 attractive influences which have drawn to him thou- 
 sands and ten thousands. I beseech you, by all 
 that insult and derision, which the Lord of glory 
 bore there ; by that parching thirst, which could 
 hardly ol)tain the relief of vinegar, by that doleful 
 cry, so astonishing in the mouth of the Only-begotten 
 of the Fatiier, My God, my God, why hast thou for- 
 saken me ? I beseech you, by tiiat grace that sub- 
 dued and pardoned a dying malefactor; by that 
 compassion for sinners, by that compassion for you, 
 which wrought in his heart, long as its vital motion 
 .-;ontinued, and which cn(lc<l not when he bowed 
 his head, saying. It is finished, and gave up the 
 
38 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 ghost. I hcseei'li you, by tlic (liiiinplis of tliat 
 resurrection by which he was declared to be the Son 
 of tJod with power, by tlie Spirit of holiness which 
 wrought to accomplish it ; by that gracious tender- 
 ness which attempered all those triumphs, when he 
 said to her out of whom he had cast seven devils, 
 eonccrning his disciples, who had treated him so 
 basely. Go, tell my brethren, 1 ascend unto my 
 Father and your Father, unto my God and your 
 God. I beseech you, by that condescension' witii 
 which lie Siiid to Thomas, when his unbelief liad 
 made such an unreasonable demand, Reach hitiier 
 thy finder, and behold my hands, and reach hither 
 thy hand, and tlirust it into ray side ; and be not faith- 
 less, but believing. I beseech you, by that generous 
 and faithful care of his people, which he carried up 
 M itli liini to the regions of glory, and which engaged 
 him to send dow^n his Spirit, in that rich profusion 
 of miraculous gifts, to spread the progress of liis 
 sswing word. 1 beseech you, by that voice of sym- 
 pathy and power with which he said to Saul, while 
 injuring his church, Saul, Saul, wliy pcrsecutest 
 thou me ? by that generous goodness, which spared 
 that prostrate enemy, when he lay trembling at his 
 feet, and raised him to so high a dignity, as to be 
 not inferior to the very cliiefest apostles. I beseech 
 you, by the memory of all that Christ hath already 
 done, by the expectation of all he will further do, 
 for his people. I beseech you, at once, by the 
 sceptre of his grace, and by the sword of his justice, 
 with which all his incorrigible enemies shall be 
 slain before him, that you do not trifle away these 
 precious moments, while his Spirit is thus breathing 
 upon you ; that you do not lose an opportunity 
 which may never return, and on the improvement 
 of which your eternity depends. 
 
 § 3. I beseech you, " by all the bowels of com- 
 passion which you owe to the faithful ministers of 
 Christ," who are studying and labouring, preaching 
 and praying, wearing out their time, exhau.sting 
 their strength, and very probably shortening their 
 lives, for the salvation of your soul, and of souls 
 like yours. I beseech you, by the affection with 
 which all that love our Lord Jesus Christ in sin- 
 cerity, long to see you brought back to him. I be- 
 seech you, by the friendship of the living, and by 
 the memory of the dead ; by the ruin of those who 
 have trifled away their days, and arc perished in 
 their sins, and by the happiness of those who have 
 embraced the gospel, and are saved by it. I beseech 
 you, by the great expectation of that important day, 
 when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven ; 
 by the terrors of a dissolving world ; by the sound 
 of the archangel's trumpet, and of that infinitely 
 more awful sentence. Come, ye blessed, and, De- 
 part, ye cursed, with which that awful solemnity 
 .shall close. 
 
 ^ 6. I beseech you, finally. " by your own precious 
 
 aiul inmiortal soul ;" by the sure prospect of a dying 
 bed, or of a-sudden surprise into tiie invisible state ; 
 and as you would feel one spark of comfort in your 
 departing spirit when your flesh and your heart are 
 failing. I beseech you, by your own personal appear- 
 ance before the tribunal of Christ ; (for a personal 
 appearance it must be, even to them w ho now sit on 
 thrones of their own ;) by all the transports of the 
 bles.sed, and by all the agonies of the damned, the 
 one or the other of which must be your everlasting 
 portion. I aflectionately entreat and beseech you, 
 in the strength of all these united con.siderations, 
 as you will answer it to me, who may in that day be 
 summoned to testify against you ; and, which is un- 
 speakably more, as you will answer it to your own 
 conscience, as you will answer it to the eternal 
 Judge ; that you dismiss not these thoughts, these 
 meditations, and these cares, till you have brought 
 matters to a happy issue ; till you have made a reso- 
 lute choice of Christ and his appointed way of sal- 
 vation, and till you have solemnly devoted yourself 
 to God, in the bonds of an everlasting covenant. 
 
 § 7. And thus I leave the matter before you, and 
 before the Lord. I have told you my errand, I 
 have discharged my embassy. Stronger arguments 
 I cannot use ; more endearing and more awful con- 
 siderations I cannot suggest. Choose, therefore, 
 whether you will go out (as it were) clothed in 
 sackcloth, to cast yourself at the feet of him who 
 now sends you these equitable and gracious terms 
 of peace and pardon ; or whether you will hold it 
 out till he appears, sword in hand, to reckon with 
 you for your treasons and your crimes, and for this 
 neglected embassy among the rest of them. Fain 
 would I hope the best ; nor can I believe that this 
 labour of love shall be so entirely unsuccessful, 
 that not one soul shall be brought to the foot of 
 Christ in cordial submission and humble faith. 
 Take with you, therefore, words, and turn unto the 
 Lord ; and oh that those which follow might, in 
 effect at least, be the genuine language of every 
 one that reads them. 
 
 The sinner yielding to these entreaties, and declaring 
 his acceptance of salvation hy Christ. 
 
 "Blessed Lord, it is enough! it is too much! 
 Surely tliere needs not this variety of arguments, 
 this importunity of persuasion, to court me to be 
 happy, to prevail upon me to accept of pardon, of 
 life, of eternal glory. Compassionate Saviour, my 
 soul is subdued ; so that I trust the language of 
 thy grief is become tliat of my penitence, and I may 
 say. My heart is melted like wax in the midst of my 
 bowels. 
 
 " O gracious Redeemer ! I have already neg- 
 lected thee too long. I have too often injured thee ; 
 have crucified thee afiesh by my guilt and impcni- 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 tence, as if I had taken pleasure in puttings thee to 
 an open shame. But my heart now bows itself 
 before thee, in humble unfeigned submission. I 
 desire to make no terms with thee but these — that I 
 may be entirely thine. I cheerfully present thee 
 with a blank, entreating thee that thou wilt do me 
 the honour to signify upon it what is thy pleasure. 
 Teach me, O Lord, what thou wouldst have me to 
 do ! For I desire to learn the lesson, and to learn it 
 that I may practise it. If it be more than my feeble 
 powers can answer, thou wilt, I hope, give me 
 more strength ; and in that strength I will serve 
 thee. O receive a soul which thou hast made will- 
 ing to be thine ! 
 
 " No more, O blessed Jesus, no more is it neces- 
 sary to beseech and entreat me. Permit me rather 
 to address myself to thee, with all the importunity 
 of a perishing sinner, that at length sees and knows 
 there is salvation in no other! Permit me now. 
 Lord, to come and throw myself at thy feet, like a 
 helpless outcast, that has no shelter but in thy 
 generous compassion ! like one pursued by the 
 avenger of blood, and seeking earnestly an admit- 
 tance into the city of refuge ! 
 
 " I wait for the Lord ; my soul doth wait ; and in 
 thy word do I hope that thou wilt receive me gra- 
 ciously. My soul confides in thy goodness, and 
 adores it. I adore the patience which has borne 
 with me so long, and the grace that now makes me 
 heartily willing to be thine ; to be thine on thine 
 own terms, thine on any terms. Oh secure this 
 treacherous heart to thyself! Oh unite me to thee 
 in such inseparable bonds, that none of the allure- 
 ments of flesh and blood, none of the vanities of an 
 insnaring world, none of the solicitations of sinful 
 companions, may draw me back from thee, and 
 plunge me into new guilt and ruin ! Be surety, O 
 Lord, for thy servant, for good ; that I may still 
 keep my hold on thee, and so on eternal life ; till 
 at length I know more fully, by joyful and ever- 
 lasting experience, how complete a Saviour thou 
 art ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 A Solemn Address to those who will not he persuaded 
 to fall in with the design of the gospel. 
 
 Universal success not to Ijc expected, } I. Vet, ,-is tinvvillin^absolulely 
 to give lip any, tlie aullior addresses, (1.) To tliost- wlio doubt of the 
 trutli of Clinstiaiiity, urging an inquiry into its evidetices, and <li- 
 recting to proper methods for that purpose, \ 1—4. (2.) To those 
 who determine to give it up without furllier examination, } 5. and 
 presume to set themselves to oppose it, \ 6. (3 ) To tluw who spe. 
 rulativcly assent to Cliristianity as true, and yet wili sit down wilh- 
 ont any practical regard to its most iniportanl and ackn.iwli d„-( d 
 truths. Sucl-. are dismissed with a representation of the absurdity 
 of their conduct on their own principle, { 7, 8. with a solemn warn, 
 inp; of its fatal consequences, ? 9. 10. and a compa.ssi(inalc prayer, (in- 
 troduced \ II.) which concludes tlie chapter, and this part of the 
 work. 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 39 
 
 § 1. I WOULD humbly hope, that the preceding chap- 
 ters will be the means of awakening some stupid 
 and insensible sinners ; the means of convincing 
 them of their need of gospel salvation, and of en- 
 gaging some cordially to accept it. Yet I cannot 
 flatter myself so far as to hope this .should be the 
 case with regard to all into whose hands this book 
 shall come. What am I, alas, better than my 
 fathers, or better than my brethren. M ho have in all 
 ages been repeating their complaints with regard to 
 multitudes, that they have stretched out their hands 
 all day long to a disobedient and gainsaying people ? 
 Many such may perhaps be found in the number of 
 my readers ; many on whom neither considerations 
 of terror nor of love will make any deep and lasting 
 impression ; many who, as our Lord learnt by ex- 
 perience to express it, when we pipe to them will 
 not dance, and when we mourn unto them will not 
 lament. I can say no more to persuade them, if 
 they make light of what I have already said. Here, 
 therefore, we must part ; in this chapter I must 
 take my leave of them ; and oh that I could do it in 
 such a manner, as to fix at parting some conviction 
 upon their hearts ; that though I seem to leave them 
 for a little while, and send them back to review again 
 the former chapters, as those in which alone they 
 have any present concern, they might soon, as it 
 were, overtake me again, and find a suitableness in 
 the remaining part of this discourse, which at present 
 they cannot possibly find. l^nhappy creatures ! I 
 quit you as a physician quits a patient whom he 
 loves, and is just about to give over as incurable ; 
 he returns again and again, and re-examines the 
 several symptoms, to obsers'e whether there be not 
 some one of them more favourable than the rest, 
 which may encourage a renewed application. 
 
 § 2. So would I once more return to you. You 
 do not find in yourself any disposition to embrace 
 the gospel, to apply yourself to Christ, to give your- 
 self up to the service of God, and to make religion 
 the business of your life. But if I cannot prevail 
 upon you to do this, let me engage you at least to 
 answer me, or ratiier to answer your own con- 
 science, " why you will not do it." Is it owing to 
 any secret disbelief of the great principles of re- 
 ligion ? If it be, Uie case is different from what I 
 have yet considered, and the cure must be different. 
 This is not a place to combat with the scruples of 
 infidelity. Nevertheless, I would desire you seri- 
 ously to inquire " how far those scruples extend." 
 Do they affect only some particular doctrines of the 
 gospel, on which my argument hath turned, or do 
 they alVe(;t the whole Christian revelation? Or do 
 they reach yet further, and extend themselves to 
 natural religion, as well as revealed, so that it should 
 be a doubt wilh you whether there be any God, and 
 providence, and future state, or not ? As these cases 
 arc all different, so it will be of great importance to 
 
40 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 distin»:iiish tlie one from the other ; thiit you may 
 kiu)» on « liat prineiples to build as certain, in the 
 examination ot" tliose coneerninf; wliieh you are yet 
 in doubt, liut wliatever these doubts are, I would 
 further ask you, " How long Lave they continued, 
 and what method have you taken to get them re- 
 solved .'" Do you imagine, that in matters of such 
 moment it will be an allowable ease for you to trifle 
 on, nogleetin}!; to inquire into the evidence of these 
 things, and then plead your not being satisfied 
 in that evidence, as an excuse for not acting accord- 
 ing to them .' Must not the principles of connnon 
 sense assure you, that if these things be true, (as, 
 when you talk of doubting about them, you acknow- 
 ledge it at least possible they may,) they are of infi- 
 nitely greater importance than any of the affairs of 
 life, whether of business or pleasure, for the sake of 
 which you neglect them? Why then do you con- 
 tinue ii\(lolcnt and unconeernod, from week to week 
 and from month to month, which probably conscience 
 tells you is the case ! 
 
 § 3. Do you ask, " What method you should take 
 to be resolved .'" It is no hard question. Open 
 your eyes. Set yourself to think ; let conscience 
 speak ; and verily do I believe, that if it be not 
 seared in an uncommon degree, you will find shrewd 
 forebodings of the certainty, both of natural and re- 
 vealed religion, and of the absolute necessity of re- 
 pentance, faith, and holiness, to a life of future 
 felicity. If you are a person of any learning, you 
 cannot but know, by what writers, and in what 
 treatises, these great trutlis are defended. And if 
 you are not, you may find, in almost every town and 
 neighbourhood, persons capable of informing you 
 in the main evidences of Christianity, and of an- 
 swering such scruples against it as unlearned minds 
 may have met with. Set yourself then, in tlie name 
 of God, inmiediately to consider the matter. If 
 you study at all, bend your studies close this way ; 
 and trifle not with mathematics, or poetry, or his- 
 tory, or law, or physic, (which are all comparatively 
 light as a feather,) while you neglect this. Study 
 the argument, as for your life; for much more than 
 life depends on it. See how far you are satisfied, 
 and why that satisfaction reaches no further. Com- 
 pare evidences on both sides. And above all, con- 
 sider the design and tendency of the New Testa- 
 ment. See to what it will lead you, and all them 
 that cordially obey it; and then say whether it be 
 not good. And consider, how naturally its truths 
 are connected with its goodness. Trace the cha- 
 racter and sentiments of its authors, whose living 
 image (if I maybe allowed the expression) is still 
 preserved in their writings. And then ask your 
 own heart. Can you think this was a forgery? an 
 impious cruel forgery ? For such it must have been, 
 if it were a forgery at all ; a scheme to mock God, 
 and to ruin men, even the best of men, such as 
 
 reverenced conscience, and would abide all extre- 
 mities for what they apprehended to be truth. Put 
 the question to your own heart, Can I in my con- 
 science believe it to be such an imposture ? can I 
 look up to an omniscient God, and say, " O Lord 
 thou knowest, that it is in reverence to thee, and in 
 love to truth and virtue, that I reject this book, and 
 the method to happiness here laid down ?" 
 
 § 4. But there are difiiculties in the way. And 
 what tlien ? Have those difiiculties never been 
 cleared. Go to the living advocates for Christianity, 
 to those of whose abilities, candour, and piety, you 
 have the best opinion ; if your prejudices will give 
 you leave to have a good opinion of any such : tell 
 them your difficulties ; hear their solutions ; weigh 
 them seriously, as those who know they must answer 
 it to God ; and while doubts continue, follow the 
 truth as far as it will lead you, and take heed that 
 you do not imprison it in unrighteousness. Nothing 
 appears more inconsistent and absurd, than for a 
 man solemnly to pretend dissatisfaction in the evi- 
 dences of the gospel, as a reason why he cannot in 
 conscience be a thorqugh Christian ; when yet, at 
 the same time, he violates the most apparent dic- 
 tates of reason and conscience, and lives in vices 
 condemned even by the heathens. O sirs, Christ 
 has judged concerning such, and judged most 
 righteously and most wisely, They do evil, and 
 therefore hate the light, neither come they to the 
 light, lest their deeds should be made manifest, and 
 be reproved. But there is a light, that will make 
 manifest, and reprove their works, to which they 
 shall be compelled to come, and the painful scru- 
 tiny of which they shall be forced to abide. 
 
 § 5. In the mean time, if you are determined to 
 inquire no further into the matter now, give me 
 leave at least, from a sincere concern that you may 
 not heap upon your head more aggravated ruin, to 
 entreat you, that you would be cautious how you 
 expose yourself to yet greater danger, by what you 
 must yourself own to be unnecessary, I mean, at- 
 tempts to prevent others from believing the truth 
 of the gospel. Leave them, for God's sake, and for 
 your own, in possession of those pleasures and 
 those hopes, wliich nothing but Christianity can 
 give them ; and act not, as if you were solicitous to 
 add to the guilt of an infidel, the tenfold damnation, 
 which they who have been the perverters and de- 
 stroyers of the souls of others, must expect to meet, 
 if that gospel which they have so adventurously op- 
 posed shall prove, as it certainly will, a serious, 
 and to them a dreadful, truth. 
 
 §0. If I cannot prevail here, but the pride of dis- 
 playing a superiority of understanding should bear 
 on such a reader, even in opposition to his own 
 favourite maxims of the innocence of error, and the 
 equality of all religions consistent with social virtue, 
 to do his utmost to trample down the gospel with 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 contempt ; I would however dismiss liim with 
 one proposal, which I think the importance of the 
 affair may fully justify. If you have done with 
 your examination into Christianity, and determine 
 to live and conduct yourself as if it were assuredly 
 false, sit down then, and make a memorandum of 
 that determination. Write it down ; " On such a 
 day of such a year, I deliberately resolved, that I 
 would live and die rejecting Christianity myself, 
 and doing all I could to overthrow it. This day I 
 determined, not only to renounce all subjection to, 
 and expectation from, Jesus of Nazareth, but also 
 to make it a serious part of the business of my life, 
 to destroy, as far as I possibly can, all regard to him 
 in the minds of others, and to exert my most 
 vigorous efforts, in the way of reasoning or of ridi- 
 cule, to sink the credit of his religion, and if it be 
 possible, to root it out of the world : in calm, steady 
 defiance of that day, when his followers say, he 
 shall appear in so much majesty and terror, to 
 execute the vengeance threatened to his enemies." 
 Dare you write this, and sign it ! I firmly believe, 
 that many a man, who would be thought a deist, 
 and endeavours to increase the number, would not. 
 And if you in particular dare not to do it, whence 
 does that small remainder of caution arise? The 
 cause is plain. There is in your conscience some 
 secret apprehension, that this rejected, tiiis opposed, 
 this derided gospel, may after all prove true. And 
 if there be such an apprehension, then let conscience 
 do its office, and convict you of the impious madness 
 of acting as if it were most certainly and demon- 
 strably false. Let it tell you at large, how possible 
 it is, that haply you may be found fighting against 
 God, that, bold as you are in defying the terrors of 
 the Lord, you may possibly fall into his hands; 
 may chance to hear that despised sentence, which 
 when you hear it from the mouth of the eternal 
 .ludge, you will not be able to despise. I will repeat 
 it again, in spite of all your scorn, you may hear 
 the King say to you. Depart, accursed, into ever- 
 lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. 
 And now, go and pervert and burlesque the Scrip- 
 ture, go and lampoon the character of its heroes, 
 and ridicule the suldime discourses of its prophets 
 and its apostles ; as some have done, who have left 
 little behind them, but the short-lived monuments 
 of their ignorance, their profaneness, and their 
 malice. Go and spread like them the banners of 
 infidelity, and pride thyself in the number of cre- 
 dulous creatures listed under them. But take heed, 
 lest the insulted Galilean direct a secret arrow to 
 thy heart, and stop thy licentious breath, before it 
 has finished the next sentence thou wouldst utter 
 against him. 
 
 § 7. I will turn myself from the deist or the scep- 
 tic, and direct my address to the nominal Christian ; 
 if he may upon any terms be called a Christian, 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 41 
 
 who feels not, after all I have pleaded, a disposition 
 to subject himself to the government and the grace 
 of that Saviour, whose name he bears. O sinner, 
 thou art turning away from my Lord, in whose cause 
 I speak ; but let me earnestly entreat thee seriously 
 to consider, why thou art turning away, and to 
 whom thou wilt go from him, whom thou acknow- 
 ledgest to have the words of eternal life. You call 
 yourself a Christian, and yet will not by any means 
 be persuaded to seek salvation in good earnest from 
 and through Jesus Christ, whom you call your 
 Master and Lord. How do you for a moment ex- 
 cuse this negligence to your own conscience ? If I 
 had urged you on any controverted point, it might 
 have altered the case. If I had laboured hard to 
 make you the disciple of any particular party of 
 Christians, your delay might have been more reason- 
 able ; nay, perhaps, your refusing to acquiesce might 
 have been an act of apprehended duty to cur com- 
 mon Master. But is it matter of controversy amongst 
 Christians, whether there be a great, holy, and 
 righteous God ; and whether such a being, whom 
 we agree to own, should be reverenced and loved, 
 or neglected and dishonoured ? Is it matter of con- 
 troversy, whether a sinner should deeply and se- 
 riously repent of his sins, or whether he should go 
 on in them ? Is it a disputed point amongst us, 
 whether Jesus became incarnate, and died upon the 
 cross, for the redemption of sinners, or no? And if 
 it be not, can it be disputed by them who believe 
 him to be the Son of God and the Saviour of men, 
 whether a sinner should seek to him, or neglect him? 
 or whether one who professes to be a Christian, 
 should depart from itiicjuity, or give himself up to 
 (he practice of it f Are the precepts of our great 
 Master written so obs(!urely in his word, that there 
 shoulrl be room seriously to question, whether he 
 require a devout, holy, humble, si)iritual, watchful, 
 self-denying life, or whether he allow the contrary ? 
 Has Christ, after all his pretensions of bringing life 
 and immortality to light, left it more uncertain than 
 he found it, whether there be any future stale 
 of happiness and misery, or for whom these states 
 are respectively intended? Is it a matter of con- 
 troversy, whether God will, or will not, bring every 
 work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether 
 it be good or whether it be evil ? or whether, at the 
 conclusion of that judgment, the wicked shall go 
 away into everlasting punishment, and the righteous 
 into life eternal ? You will not, I am sure, for very 
 shame pretend any doubt about these things, and 
 yet call yourself a Christian. Why then will you 
 not be persuaded to lay them to heart, and to act as 
 duty and interest so evidently recpiire ? Oh sinner, 
 tiie cause is too obvious : a <;ause indeed quite un- 
 wortiiy of being called a reason. It is because thou 
 art blinded and besotted with thy vanities and thy 
 lusts. It is because thou hast .some perishing trifle 
 
THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 ■wliifh cliarms tliy imafiiiiation and tliy senses, so 
 that it is dtaier to thee than God and Christ, than 
 thy own soul and its salvation. It is, in a word, 
 because thou art still under the influcnee of that 
 carnal mind, which, whatever i)ious forms it may 
 sometiiiH's admit and pretend, is enmity afjaiiist 
 God, and is not suhjoet to the law of (Jod, neitlu^r 
 indeed can be. And therefore, thou art in the vciy 
 case of those wretches, eoneerninfr whom our Lord 
 .said in the days of his llesh, Ye will not come unto 
 me that ye mi>;'ht have life, and therefore ye shall 
 die in your sins. 
 
 ^ 8. In this case, I see not what it can signify, to 
 renew those expostulations and addresses which I 
 have made in the former chapters. As our blessed 
 Redeemer says of tliose \\ ho rejected his gospel. Ye 
 Lave both seen and hated both me and my Father ; 
 50 may I truly say with regard to you, I have en- 
 deavoured to show you in tlie plainest and the 
 clearest words, both Christ and the Fatlier ; I have 
 urged the obli-gations you are under to both ; 1 have 
 laid before you your guilt, and your condemnation ; 
 I have pointed out the only remedy ; I have pointed 
 out the Rock, on which I have built my own eternal 
 hopes, and the way in which alone I expect salva- 
 tion. I have recommended those things to you, 
 which, if God gives me an opportunity, I will with 
 my dying breath earnestly and aifectionately re- 
 commend to my own children, and to all the dearest 
 friends that I have upon earth, who may then be 
 near me ; esteeming it the highest token of my 
 friendship, the surest proof of my love to them. 
 And if believing the gospel to be true, you resolve 
 to reject it ; 1 have nothing further to say, but that 
 you must abide by the consequence. Yet as Moses, 
 when he went out from the presence of Pharaoh for 
 the last time, finding his heart yet more hardened 
 by all the judgments and deliverances with whicli 
 he had formerly been exercised, denounced upon 
 him God's passing through the land in terror, to 
 smite the first-born with death, and warned him of 
 that great and lamentable cry which the sword of 
 the destroying angel should raise throughout all his 
 realm; so will I, sinner, now when I am quitting 
 thee, speak to thee yet again, whether tliou wilt 
 hear, or whether thou wilt forbear, and denounce 
 that much more terrible judgment, which the sword 
 of divine vengeance, already whetted and drawn, 
 and bathed as it were in heaven, is preparing 
 again.st thee ; which shall end in a much more 
 dreadful cry, though thou wert greater and more 
 obstinate than that liauglily monarch. Y^es, sinner, 
 that I may, with the apostle Paul, when turning to 
 others who are more like to hear me, shake my 
 raiment,, and say, I am pure from your blood ; I 
 will once more tell you what the end of these things 
 will be. And oh, that I could speak to purpose ! 
 Oh that I could thunder in thy ear such a peal of 
 
 tenor, as might awaken tliee, and be too loud to be 
 drowned in all the noise of carnal mirth, or to be 
 deadened by those dangerous opiates, with which 
 thou art contriving to stupify thy conscience. 
 
 § 9. Seek what amusements and entertainments 
 thou wilt, O sinner, I tell thee, if thou wert equal 
 in dignity, and power, and magnilicenec, to tlie 
 great monarch of Babylon, thy pomp shall be 
 brought down to the grave, and all the sound of 
 thy viols ; the w orm shall be spread under thee, and 
 the worm shall cover thee. Yes, sinner, the end of 
 these things is death ; death in its most terrible 
 sense to thee, if this continue thy governing temper. 
 Thou canst avoid it ; and, if it be possible for 
 any thing that I can say to prevent, thou shall not 
 forget it. Your strength is not tlie strength of 
 stones, nor is your flesh of brass. You are acces- 
 sible to diseases as well as others ; and if some 
 sudden accident do not prevent it, we shall soon 
 see how heroically you will behave yourself on a 
 dying bed, and in the near views of eternity. You 
 that now despise Christ, and trifle with his gospel, 
 we shall see you droop and languish ; shall see all 
 your relish for your carnal recreations, and your 
 vain companions, lost. And if, perhaps, one and 
 another of them bolt in upon you, and is brutish 
 and desperate enough to attempt to entertain a 
 dying man with a gay story, or a profane jest, we 
 shall see how you will relish it. We shall see what 
 comfort you will have in reflecting on what is past, 
 or what hope in looking forward to what is to come. 
 Perhaps, trembling and astonished, you will then be 
 inquiring in a wild kind of consternation, what you 
 should do to be saved ; calling for the ministers of 
 Christ, whom you now despise for the earnestness 
 with which they would labour to save your soul ; 
 and it may be, falling into a delirium, or dying 
 convulsions, before they can come. Or perhaps we 
 may see you flattering yourself through a long 
 lingering illness, that you shall still recover, and 
 putting off any serious reflection and conversation, 
 for fear it should overset your spirits. And the 
 cruel kindness of friends and physicians, as if they 
 were in league with Satan to make the destruction 
 of your soul as sure as possible, may perhaps abet 
 this fatal deceit. 
 
 § 10. And if any of these probable cases happen, 
 that is, in short, unless a miracle of grace snatch 
 you as a brand out of the burning, when the flames 
 have, as it were, already taken hold of you ; all 
 these gloomy circumstances, which pass in the 
 chambers of illness and the beds of death, are but 
 the {"orerunners of inlinitely more dreadful things. 
 Oh, who can describe them; who can imagine 
 them? When surviving friends are tenderly mourn- 
 ing over the breathless corpse, and taking a fond 
 farev/ell of it before it is laid to consume away in 
 the dark and silent grave ; into what hands, O sin- 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 ner, w ill thy soul be fallen ? What scenes will open 
 upon thy separate spirit, even before thy deserted 
 flesh be cold, or thy sightless eyes are closed ; it 
 shall then know w hat it is to return to God to be 
 rejected by him, as having rejected his gospel and 
 )iis Son, and despised the only treaty of reconcilia- 
 tion ; and that such a one, so amazingly conde- 
 scending and gracious. Thou shalt know what it is 
 to be disowned by Christ, whom thou hast refused 
 to entertain : and what it is, as the certain and im- 
 mediate consequence of that, to be left in the hands 
 of the malignant spirits of hell. There will be no 
 more friendship then ; none to comfort, none to al- 
 leviate thy agony and distress ; but, on the contrary, 
 all around thee labouring to aggravate and increase 
 them. Thou shalt pass aw ay the iutemiediate years 
 of the separate state in dreadful expectation, and 
 bitter outcries of horror and remorse. And then 
 thou shalt hear the trumpet of the archangel, in 
 whatever cavern of that gloomy world thou art 
 lodged. Its sound shall penetrate thy prison, 
 where, doleful and horrible as it is, thou shalt 
 nevertheless wish, that thou mightest still be al- 
 lowed to hide thy guilty head, rather than show it 
 before the face of that awful Judge, before w hom 
 heaven and earth are fleeing aw ay. But thou must 
 come forth, and be reunited to a bodj', now formed 
 for ever to endure agonies, which in this mortal 
 s^ate would have dissolved it in a moment. You 
 would not be persuaded to come to Christ before ; 
 you would stupidly neglect him, in spite of reason, 
 in spite of conscience, in spite of all the tendcrcst 
 solicitations of the gospel, and the repeated admo- 
 nitions of its most faithful ministers. But now, 
 sinner, you shall have an interview with him ; if 
 that may be called an interview, in which you will 
 not dare to lift up your head to view the face of 
 your tremendous and inexorable Judge. There, at 
 least, how distant soever the time of our life and 
 the place of our abode may have been, there shall 
 we sec how courageously your heart will endure, 
 and how strong your hands will be, when the Lord 
 doth this. There shall I sec thee, O reader, who- 
 ever thou art, that goest on in thy impenitcncy, 
 among thousands and ten thousands of despairing 
 wretches, trembling and confounded. Tiierc shall 
 I hear thy cries among the rest, rending the very 
 heavens in vain. The Judge will rise from his tri- 
 bunal with majestic composure, and leave thee to 
 be hurried down to those everlasting burnings, to 
 which his righteous vengeance hath doomed thee, 
 because thou wouldst not be saved from them. 
 Hell shall shut its mouth ui)on thee for ever, and 
 the sad echo of thy groans and outcries shall be 
 lost amidst the Hallelujahs of heaven, to all that 
 find mercy of the Lord in that day. 
 
 ^11. This will most assuredly be the end of these 
 things ; and thou, as a Christian, professest to know 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 48 
 
 and to believe it. It moves my heart, at least, if it 
 moves not thine. I firmly believe that every one, 
 who himself obtains salvation and glory, will bear 
 so much of his Saviour's image in wisdom and 
 goodness, in zeal for God, and a steady regard to 
 the happiness of the wholq creation, that he will 
 behold this sad scene with calm approbation, and 
 without any painful commotion of mind. But as 
 yet I am flesh and blood ; and therefore my bowels 
 are troubled, and my eyes often overflow with 
 grief, to think that wretched sinners will have no 
 more compassion upon their own souls ; to think, 
 that in spite of all admonition they will obstinately 
 run upon final everlasting destruction. It would 
 signify nothing here to add a prayer, or a medita- 
 tion, for j our use. Poor creature ! you will not me- 
 ditate ! you will not pray ! Yet, as I have often 
 poured out my heart in prayer over a dying friend, 
 when the force of his distemper has rendered him 
 incapable of joining with me ; so I will now apply 
 myself to God for 3'ou, O unhappy creatures ! And 
 if you disdain so much as to read what my com- 
 passion dictates ; yet I hope, they who have felt the 
 power of the gospel on their own souls, as they 
 cannot but pity such as you, will join w ith me in 
 such cordial though broken petitions as these. 
 
 A Prai/er in brhalf of an impenitent sinner, in the 
 case described above. 
 
 "Almighty God! with thee all things are possible: 
 to thee therefore do I humbly apply myself in be- 
 half of this dear immortal soul, which thou here 
 seest perishing in its sins, and hardening itself 
 against that everlasting gospel, which has been the 
 power of God to the salvation of so many thousands 
 and millions. Thou art witness, O blessed God, 
 thou art witness to the plainness and seriousness 
 with which the message has been delivered. It is 
 in thy presence that these awful words have been 
 written ; and in thy presence have they been read. 
 Be pleased therefore to record it in the book of thy 
 remembrance, that so if this wicked man dicth in 
 his iniquity, after the warning has been so plainly 
 and solemidy given him, his blood may not be 
 required at my hand, nor at the hand of that Chris- 
 tian friend, whoever he is, by whom this book has 
 been put into his, with a sincere desire for the sal- 
 vation of his soul. Be w itness, O blessed Jesus, in 
 the day in which thou shalt judge the secret of all 
 hearts, that thy gospel hath been preached to this 
 hardened wretch, and salvation by thy blood hath 
 been ollered him, though he continue to despise it. 
 And may thy unworthy messenger be unto God a 
 sweet savour in Christ, in this very soul, even though 
 it should at last perish ! 
 
 " But, oh that, after all this hardness and impeni- 
 tence, thou wouldst still be pleased, by the sovc- 
 
44 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 reign power of thino cllioai ious g^racc, to awaken 
 and convert liiui ! \\v\\ do we know, O thou Lord 
 of universal nature, that he who made the soul, 'can 
 cause the sword of <'onviction to eonic near and 
 enter into if. Oh that, in thine infinite wisdom 
 ■and lo\e, thou wouldst lind out a «ay to interpose 
 and save this sinner froni deatli, from eternal death ! 
 Oh that, if it he tiiy blessed w ill, thou wouldst im- 
 mediately do it ! Thou knowest, oh (Jod, he is a 
 dyin^ creature ; thou knowest, that if any thinfj be 
 done for him, it must be done quickly ; thou seest, 
 in the book of thy wise and gracious decrees, a 
 moment marked which must seal him up in an un- 
 ehanseable state : oh that thou wouldst lay hold on 
 him, while he is yet joined « ith the living, and hath 
 hope ! Thy immutable laws in the dispensation of 
 grace forbid that a soul should be converted and 
 renewed after its entrance on the invisible world ; 
 oh let thy sacred Spirit work while he is yet, as it 
 were, within the sphere of its operations! Work, 
 O God, by whatever method thou plcasest ; only 
 have mercy upon him ! O Lord, have mercy upon 
 liim, that he sink not into those depths of damna- 
 tion and ruin, on the very brink of which he so 
 evidently appears ! Oh that thou wouldst bring him, 
 if that be necessary, and seem to thee most expe- 
 dient, into any depths of calamity and distress ! Oh 
 that, with Manasseh, he may be taken in the thorns, 
 and laden with the fetters, of affliction, if that may 
 but cause him to seek the God of his fathers ! 
 
 " But I prescribe not to thine infinite wisdom. 
 Thou hast displayed thy power in glorious and as- 
 tonishing instances ; which I thank thee that I have 
 so circumstantially known, and by the knowledge 
 of them have been fortified against the rash confi- 
 dence of those who weakly and arrogantly pronounce 
 that to be impossible which is actually done. Thou 
 hast, I know, done that by a single thought in re- 
 tirement, when the happy man reclaimed by it hath 
 been far from means, and far from ordinances, which 
 neither the most awful admonitions, nor the most 
 tender entreaties, nor the most terrible afllictions, 
 nor the most wonderful deliverances, had been able 
 to efl'ect. 
 
 " Glorify thy name, O Lord, and glorify thy grace, 
 in the method which to thine infinite wisdom shall 
 seem most expedient ! Only grant, I beseech thee, 
 with all humble submission to thy will, that this 
 sinner may be saved ! Or if not, that the labour of 
 this part may not be altogether in vain ; but that if 
 some reje(;t it to their aggravated ruin, others may 
 hearken and live : that those thy servants, who 
 have laboured for their deliverance and happiness, 
 may view them in the regions of glory, as the spoils 
 which thou hast honoured them as the instruments 
 of recovering ; and may join w ith them in the halle- 
 lujahs of heaven, to him who hath loved us, and 
 washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath 
 
 made us of condemned rebels, and accursed pol- 
 luted sinners, kings and priests unto God : to whom 
 be glory and dominion for ever and ever ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 An Address to a sold so orvrn-ht Jmed luitli a sense of 
 the f/re<itness of its sins, that it dares not upptij it- 
 self to Christ icith any hope of salvation. 
 
 Till' case ilcsrriliiil at large, I 1 — 4. as il frequently oreiirs, } 5. 
 CJraiitiii}; all tliat the ilejected soul charges on itself, } (i. the iiivi. 
 tatinns and promises of Christ give hope, ) 7. The reader ilrgeil, 
 under all his burthens and fears, to an humble application to liim, { 8. 
 Which is accordingly exeniplilied in the concluding reflection and 
 prayer. 
 
 §1.1 HAVE now done with those unhappy creatures 
 who despise the gospel, and with those who neglect 
 it. With jtleasure do I now turn myself to those 
 who will hear me with more regard. Among the 
 various eases which now present themselves to my 
 thoughts, and demand my tender, affectionate, re- 
 spectful care, there is none more worthy of com- 
 passion than that which I have mentioned in the 
 title of this chapter ; none which requires a more 
 immediate attempt of relief. 
 
 § 2. It is very possible some afflicted creature may 
 be ready to cry out, " It is enough : aggravate my 
 grief and my distress no more. The sentence you 
 have been so awfully describing, as what shall be 
 passed and executed on the impenitent and unbe- 
 lieving, is my sentence ; and the terrors of it are my 
 terrors. For my initiuities are gone up unto the 
 heavens, and my transgressions have reached unto 
 the clouds. My case is quite singular. Surely 
 there never was so great a sinner as I. I have re- 
 ceived so many mercies, I have enjoyed so many ad- 
 vantages, I have heard so many invitations of gos- 
 pel grace ; and yet my heart has been so hard, and 
 my nature so exceeding sinful, and the number 
 and aggravating circumstances of my provocations 
 have been such, that I dare not hope. It is enough 
 that God hath supported me thus long. It is enough 
 that, after so many years of wickedness, I am yet 
 out of hell. Every day's reprieve is a mercy at 
 which I am astonished. I lie down, and wonder 
 that death and damnation have not seized me in my 
 walks the day past. I arise, and wonder that my 
 bed hath not been my grave ; wonder that my soul is 
 not separated from the flesh, and surrounded with 
 devils and damned spirits. 
 
 § .3. " I have indeed heard the message of salva- 
 tion ; but alas, it seems no message of salvation to 
 me. There are happy souls that have hope ; and 
 their hope is indeed in Christ, and the grace of God 
 manifested in him. But then they feel in their 
 hearts an encouragement to apply to him ; whereas 
 I dare not do it. Christ and grace are things in 
 which I fear I have no part, and must expect none. 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 There are exceeding rich and precious promises in 
 the word of God ; but they are to me as a sealed 
 book, and are hid from me as to any personal use. 
 I know Christ is able to save. I know he is willing 
 to save some. But that he should be willing to save 
 me, such a polluted, such a provoking, creature, as 
 God knows, and as conscience knows, I have been, 
 and to this day am : this I know not how to believe ; 
 and the utmost that I can do towards believing it, 
 is to acknowledge that it is not absolutely impossi- 
 ble, and that I do not yet lie down in complete de- 
 spair ; though, alas, I seem upon the very borders of 
 it, and expect every day and hour to fall into it." 
 
 ^4. I should not perhaps have entered so fully 
 into this case, if I had not seen many in it ; and I 
 will add, reader, for your encouragement, if it be 
 your case, several who are now in the number of the 
 most established, cheerful, and useful Christians. 
 And I hope divine grace will add you to the rest, if 
 out of these depths you be enabled to cry unto God ; 
 and though, like Jonah, you may seem to be cast out 
 from his presence, yet still, with Jonah, you look 
 towards his holy temple. 
 
 ^ 5. Let it not be imagined that it is in any neg- 
 lect of that blessed Spirit, whose office it is to be the 
 great Comforter, that I now attempt to reason you 
 out of this disconsolate frame. For it is as the great 
 source of reason, that he deals with rational crea- 
 tures ; and it is in the use of rational means and 
 considerations, that he may most justly be expected 
 to operate. Give me leave therefore to address my- 
 self calmly to you, and to ask you, what reason you 
 have for all these passionate complaints and accu- 
 sations against yourself? What reason have you to 
 suggest that your case is singular, when so many have 
 told you that they have felt the same ? What reason 
 have you to conclude so hardly against yourself, 
 when the gospel speaks in such favourable terms .' 
 or what reason to imagine, that the gracious things 
 it says are not intended for you ! You know indeed 
 more of the corruptions of your own heart, than you 
 know of the hearts of others ; and you make a 
 thousand charitable excuses for their visible failings 
 and infirmities, which you make not for your own. 
 And it may be, some of those whom you admire as 
 eminent saints when compared with you, are on their 
 part humbling themselves in the dust, as unworthy 
 to be numbered amongst the least of God's people, 
 and wishing themselves like you, in whom they 
 think they see much more good, and much less of 
 evil, than in themselves. 
 
 § 6. But to suppose the worst, what if you were 
 really the vilest sinner that ever lived upon the face 
 of the earth ? What if your iniquities had gone up 
 unto the heavens every day, and your transgressions 
 had reached unto the clouds ; reached thither with 
 such horrid aggravations, that earth and heaven 
 should have had reason to detest you as a monster 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 46 
 
 of impiety ? Admitting all this, is any thing too hard 
 for the Lord ? Are any sins of which a sinner can 
 repent, of so deep a dye that the blood of Christ can- 
 not wash them away? Nay, though it would be 
 daring wickedness and monstrous folly for any to 
 sin that grace may abound, yet had you indeed rais- 
 ed your account beyond all that divine grace has 
 ever yet pardoned, who should limit the Holy One 
 of Israel ? Or who should pretend to say, that it was 
 impossible that God might for your very wretched- 
 ness choose you out from others, to make you a 
 monument of mercy, and a trophy of hitherto un- 
 paralleled grace ? The apostle Paul strongly inti- 
 mates this to have been the case with regard to him- 
 self. And why might not you likewise, if indeed 
 the chief of sinners obtain mercy, that in you, as 
 the chief, Jesus Christ might show forth all long- 
 suffering, for a pattern to them who shall hereafter 
 believe ? 
 
 § 7. Gloomy as your appreheasions are, I would 
 ask you plainly. Do you in your conscience think, 
 that Christ is not able to save you ? What ! is he 
 not able to save even to the uttermost, them that 
 come unto God by him ? Yes, you will say, abun- 
 dantly able to do it ; but I dare not imagine that 
 he will do it. And how do you know that he will 
 not ? He has helped the very greatest sinners of all 
 that have yet applied themselves to him ; and he 
 has made the offers of grace and salvation in the 
 most engaging and encouraging terms. If any man 
 thirst, let him come unto me and drink. Let him 
 that is athirst come : and whosoever will, let him 
 take of the water of life freely. Come unto me, all 
 ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will 
 give you rest. And once more, Hira that cometh 
 unto me I will in no wise cast out. True, you will 
 say, none that are given him by the Father. Could 
 I know I were of that number, I could then apply 
 cheerfully to him. But, dear reader, let me entreat 
 you to look into the text itself, and see whether 
 that limitation be expressly added there. Do you 
 there read, none of them whom the Father hath 
 given me shall be cast out '. The words are in a 
 much more encouraging form. And why should 
 you frustrate his wisdom and goodness, by such an 
 addition of your own ? Add not to his words, lest he 
 reprove thee : take them as they stand, and drink 
 in the consolation of tliem. Our Lord knew into 
 what perplexity some serious minds might possibly 
 be thrown by what he had before been saying. All 
 that the Father hath given me, shall come unto me ; 
 and therefore, as if it were on purpose to balance it, 
 he adds those gracious words. Him that cometh unto 
 me, I M ill in no wise, by no means, on no consider- 
 ation whatsoever, cast out. 
 
 ^ 8. If therefore you are already discouraged and 
 terrified at the greatness of your sins, do not add to 
 their weight and number that one greater and worse 
 
THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 than all llio rest, a dislriist of the faithfulness and 
 graec of the blessed Redeemer. Do not, so far as 
 in you lies, oppose all the purposes of his love to 
 you. O distressed soul, whom dost thou dread ? 
 to whoni dost thou tremble to approaeh .' Is tiu rc 
 any thin^ so terrible in a erueiCied Redeemer, in the 
 Lainl) that was slain ? If thou earriest thy soul al- 
 most sinkinfi under the burthen of its guilt, to lay 
 down at his feet, «hat dost thou oiler him, but the 
 spoil which he bled and died to recover and pos- 
 sess ? And did he purchase it so dearly that he 
 might reject it with disdain ? Go to him directly, 
 and fall down in his presence, and plead that misery 
 of thine, whicli thou hast now been pleading in a 
 contrary view, as an engagement to your own soul 
 to make the application, and as an argument witli 
 the compassionate Saviour to receive you. Go, and 
 be assured, that where sin hath abounded there 
 grace shall nuich more abound. Be assured, tliat 
 if one sinner can promise himself a more certain 
 welcome than another, it is not he that is least 
 guilty and miserable, but he that is most deeply 
 humbled before God under a sense of that misery 
 and guilt, and lies the lowest in the apprehension 
 of it. 
 
 Reflections o)i these encouragements, ending in an 
 humble and earnest application to Christ for mercy . 
 
 " O my soul, what sayest thou to these things ? Is 
 there not at least a possibility of help from Christ? 
 and is there a possibility of help any other way ? 
 Is any other name given under heaven, whereby we 
 can be saved ? I know there is none. I must then 
 say, like the lepers of Israel, if I sit here I perish ; 
 and if I make my application in vain, I can but 
 die. But, peradventure, he may save my soul alive. 
 I will therefore arise, and go unto him ; or rather, 
 believing him here, by his spiritual presence, sinful 
 and miserable as I am, I will this moment fall down 
 on my face before him, and pour out my soul unto 
 him. 
 
 " Blessed Jesus, I present myself unto thee, as a 
 wretched creature ; driven indeed by necessity to do 
 it. For surely, were not that necessity urgent and ab- 
 solute, I should not dare for very shame to appear in 
 thy holy and majestic presence. I am fully con- 
 vinced that my sins and my follies have been inex- 
 cusably great ; more than I can express, more than I 
 can conceive. I feci a source of sin in my corrupt 
 and degenerate nature, which pours out iniquity, as 
 a fountain sends out its water, and makes me a bur- 
 then and a terror to myself. Such aggravations have 
 attended my transgressions, that it looks like pre- 
 sumption so much as to ask pardon for them. And 
 yet, would it not be greater presumption to say, that 
 they exceed thy mercy, and the elhcacy of thy blood ; 
 to say, that thou hast power and grace enough to 
 
 jiardon and save only sinners of a lower order, while 
 such as 1 lie out of thy reach ? Preserve me from 
 that blasphemous imagination ! preserve me from 
 that unreasonable suspicion ! Lord, thou canst do 
 all things, neither is there any thought of mine heart 
 « itldioldcn from thee. Thou art indeed, as thy word 
 declares, able to save unto the uttermost. And 
 tlicrcforc, breaking through all the oppositions of 
 shame and fear, tliat would keep me from thee, I 
 come and lie down as in the dust before thee. Th<(ii 
 knowest, O Lord, all my sins, and all my follies. — 
 I cannot, and I hope I may say, I would not, disguise 
 them before thee, or .set myself to find out plausible 
 excuses. Accuse me. Lord, as thou plcasest ; and 
 I will ingenuously plead guilty to all thine accusa- 
 tions, I will own myself as great a sinner as thou 
 callest me ; but I am still a sinner tliat comes unto 
 tlice for pardon. If I must die, it shall be submit- 
 ting and owning the justice of the fatal stroke. If 
 I perish, it shall be laying hold, as it were, on the 
 horns of the altar: laying myself down at thy foot- 
 stool, though I have been such a rebel against thy 
 throne. IVIany have received a full pardon there ; 
 have met with favour even beyond their hopes. And 
 are all tliy compassions, O blessed Jesus, exhausted? 
 And wilt thou now begin to reject a humble creature, 
 who flies to thee for life, and pleads nothing but 
 mercy and free grace? Have mercy upon me, O most 
 gracious Redeemer, have mercy upon me, and let 
 my life be precious in thy sight ! O do not resolve 
 to send me down to that state of final misery and 
 despair, from which it was thy gracious purpose to 
 deliver and save so many ! 
 
 " Spurn me not away, O Lord, from thy presence, 
 nor be offended when I presume to lay hold on thy 
 royal robe, and say that I cannot and will not let 
 thee go, till my suit is granted ! O remember, that 
 all my hopes of obtaining eternal happiness, and 
 avoiding everlasting, helpless, hopeless destruction, 
 are anchored upon thee ; they hang upon thy smiles, 
 or drop at thy frown. Oh have mercy upon me, for 
 the sake of this immortal soul of mine ! or if not for 
 the sake of mine alone, for the sake of many others, 
 who may, on the one hand, be encouraged by thy 
 mercy to me, or, on the other, may be greatly 
 wounded and discouraged by my helpless despair ! 
 I beseech thee, O Lord, for thine own sake, and for 
 the display of thy Father's rich and sovereign grace ! 
 I beseech thee by the blood thou didst shed on the 
 cross ! I beseech thee by the covenant of grace and 
 peace, into which the Father did enter with thee for 
 the salvation of believing and repenting sinners, 
 save me ! Save me, O Lord, who earnestly desire to 
 repent and believe ! I am indeed a sinner, in whose 
 final and everlasting destruction thy justice might 
 be greatly glorified. But oh, if thou wilt pardon 
 me, it will be a montiment raised to the honour of 
 thy grace, and the efficacy of thy blood, in propor- 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 portion fo the degree in wliich the wretch, to whom 
 thy mercy is extended, was mean and miserable 
 witliout it. Speak, Lord, by thy blessed Spirit, and 
 banish my fears ! Look upon me with love and grace 
 in thy countenance, and say to me, as in the days 
 of thy flesh thou didst to many an humble suppli- 
 cant, Thy sins are forgiven thee, go in peace !" 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The donbtiny soul more particularly assisted in its 
 inquiries as to the sincerity of its faith and re- 
 pentance. 
 
 Transient impressions liable to lie mistaken for conversion, wliicli 
 would be a fatal error, J I. General schemes for self-examination, 
 } 2. Particular inquiries; (I.) What views there have been of sin ? 
 { 3. (2.) What views tliere have been of Christ? } 4. as to the 
 need the soul has of him, { 5. and its willingness to receive him, 
 with a due surrender of heart to his service, { 6. Nothing short of 
 this sufficient, { 7. The soul submitting to divine examination the 
 sincerity of its faith and repentance. 
 
 § 1. In consequence of all the serious things which 
 have been said in the former chapters, I hope it will 
 be no false presumption to imagine, that some reli- 
 gious impressions may be made on hearts which 
 had never felt them before ; or may be revived, 
 where they have formerly grown cold and languid. 
 Yet I am very sensible, and I desire that you may 
 be so, how great danger there is of self-flattery on 
 this important head ; and how necessary it is to 
 caution men against too hasty a conclusion, that 
 they are really converted, because they have felt 
 some warm emotions on their minds, and have re- 
 formed the gross irregularities of their former con- 
 duct. A mistake here might be infinitely fatal ; it 
 may prove the occasion of that false peace, which 
 shall lead a man to bless himself in his own heart, 
 and to conclude himself secure, while all the threat- 
 enings and curses of God's law are sounding in his 
 ears, and lie indeed directly against him ; while in 
 the mean time he applies to himself a thousand 
 promises in which he has no share, which may 
 prove therefore like generous wine to a man in a 
 high fever, or strong opiates to one in a lethargy. 
 The stony ground received the word with joy, and 
 a promising harvest seemed to be springing up ; yet 
 it soon withered away, and no reaper filled his arms 
 with it. Now, that this may not be the case with 
 you, that all my labours and yours hitherto may not 
 be lost, and that a vain dream of security and hap- 
 piness may not plunge you deeper in misery and 
 ruin, give me leave to lead you into a serious in- 
 quiry into your own heart ; that .so you may be 
 better able to judge of your case, and to distinguish 
 between what it is at most being only near the king- 
 dom of heaven, and becoming indeed a member of it. 
 
 § 2. Now this depends upon the sincerity of your 
 faith in Christ, when faith is taken in its largest 
 extent, as explained above ; that is, as compre- 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 47 
 
 bending repentance, and that steady purpose of 
 new and universal obedience, of which, wherever it 
 is real, faith will assuredly be the vital principle. 
 Therefore, to assist you in judging of your state, give 
 me leave to ask you, or rather to entreat you to ask 
 yourself, what views you have had, and now have, 
 of sin, and of Christ ? and what your future pur- 
 poses are, with regard to your conduct in the re- 
 mainder of life that may lie before you ? I shall not 
 reason largely upon the several particulars I suggest 
 under those heads, but rather refer you to your own 
 reading and observation, to judge how agreeable 
 they are to the word of God, the great rule by 
 which our characters must quickly be tried, and 
 our eternal state unalterably determined. 
 
 § 3. Inquire seriously, in the first place, what 
 views you have had of sin, and what sentiments you 
 have felt in j'our soul with regard to it. There was 
 a time, when it wore a flattering aspect, and made 
 a fair enchanting appearance, so that all your heart 
 was charmed with it, and it was the very business 
 of your life to practise it. But you have since been 
 undeceived. You have felt it bite like a serpent, 
 and sting like an adder. You have beheld it with 
 an abhorrence, far greater than the delight which it 
 ever gave you. So far it is well. It is thus with 
 every true penitent, and with some, I fear, who are 
 not of that number. Let me therefore inquire 
 further, whence arose this abhorrence ? Was it 
 merely from a principle of self-love ? Was it merely 
 because you had been wounded by it? Was it 
 merely because you had thereby brought condem- 
 nation and ruin upon your own soul ! Was there no 
 sense of its deformity, of its baseness, of its malig- 
 nity, as committed against the blessed God, con- 
 sidered as a glorious, a bountiful, and a merciful 
 Being ? Were you never pierced by an apprehen- 
 sion of its vile ingratitude? And as for those pur- 
 poses which have arisen in your heart against it, let 
 me beseech you to reflect, how they have been 
 formed, and how they have hitherto been executed. 
 Have they been universal ? Have they been reso- 
 lute ? And yet, amidst all that resolution, have they 
 been humble ? When you declared war with sin, 
 was it with every sin ? And is it an irreconcilable 
 war, which you determine, by divine grace, to push 
 on till you have entirely conciucrcd it, or die in the 
 attempt ? And are you accordingly active in your 
 endeavours to subdue and destroy it? If so, what 
 arc the fruits worthy of repentance which you bring 
 forth ? It does not, I hope, all flow away in floods 
 of grief. Have you ceased to do evil ? Are you 
 learning to do well? Doth your reformation show, 
 that you repent of your sins? or do your renewed 
 relapses into sin prove, that you repent even of 
 what you call your repentance? Have you an in- 
 ward abhorrence of all sin, and an unfeigned zeal 
 against it? And doth that produce a care to guard 
 
48 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 against tlie occasions of it, and temptations to it .' 
 Do you watch against tlie oirciunstanccs tiiat have 
 insnarcd you f Anil do you particularly ilouble 
 your guard against that sin which docs most easily 
 beset you ? Is that laid aside, that the Christian 
 race may be run ? laid aside with a lirm determina- 
 tion, that you will return to it no more, tliat you 
 will hold no more parley with if, that you will never 
 take another step towards it? 
 
 § 4. Permit me also further to inquire, what your 
 views of Christ have been ? what think you of him, 
 and of your concern with him? Have you been 
 fully convinced, that there must be a correspond- 
 ence settled between him and your soul? And do 
 you see and feel, that you are not only to pay him a 
 kind of distant homage, and transient compliment, 
 as a very wise, benevolent, and excellent person, 
 whose name and memory you have a reverence for ; 
 but that, as he lives and reigns, as he is ever near you, 
 and always observing you, so you uuist look to him, 
 must approach liim, must huml)ly transai-t busi- 
 ness with him, and that business of the highest im- 
 portance, on which your salvation depends ? 
 
 § 6. You have been brouglit to inquire, where- 
 with shall I come befc-re the Lord, and bow myself 
 before the most high God ? And once, perhaps, you 
 were thinking of sacrifjccs, which your own stores 
 might have been sufficient to furnish out. Are you 
 now convinced they will not sufHce ; and that you 
 must have recourse to the Lamb which God hath 
 provided? Have you had a view of Jesus, as taking 
 away the sin of the world ? as made a sin-offering 
 for us, though he knew no sin, that we might be 
 made the righteousness of God in him? Have you 
 viewed him as perfectly righteous in himself? and 
 despairing of being just,ified by any righteousness 
 of your own, have you submitted to the righteous- 
 ness of God ? Has your heart ever been brought to 
 a deep conviction of this important truth, that if 
 ever you are saved at all, it must be through Christ ; 
 that if ever God extend mercy to you at all, it must 
 be for his sake ; that if ever you are fixed in the 
 temple of God above, you must stand there as an 
 everlasting trophy of that victory -which Christ has 
 gained over the powers of hell, who would otherwise 
 have triumphed over you ? 
 
 § 6. Our Lord says, Look unto nic, and be ye 
 saved : he says, If I be lifted up, I shall draw all 
 men unto me. Have you looked to him as the 
 only Saviour? Have you been drawn unto him 
 by that sacred magnet, the attracting iniluence of 
 bis dying love ? Do you know what it is, to come 
 to Christ as a poor, weary, and heavy-laden sinner, 
 that you may find rest? Do you know what it is, 
 in a spiritual sense, to eat the flesh and drink flie 
 blood of the Son of Man ; that is, to look upon 
 Christ crucified as the great support of your soul, 
 and to feel a desire after him, earnest as tlie appe- 
 
 tite of nature after its necessary food ? Have you 
 known what it is cordially to surrender yourself to 
 Christ, as a poor creature whom love has made his 
 property ? Have you committed your inunortal soul 
 to him, that he may purify and save it ; that he may 
 govern it by the dictates of his word and the in- 
 fluences of his Spirit ; that he may use it for his 
 glory ; that he may appoint it to what exercise and 
 <liscipline he pleases, while it dwells here in flesh ; 
 and that he may receive it at death, and fix it 
 among those spirits who with perpetual songs of 
 praise surround his throne, and are his servants for 
 ever ? Have you heartily consented to this? and do 
 you, on this account of the matter, renew your con- 
 sent ? Do you renew it deliberately and detcrmi- 
 nately, and feel your whole soul, as it were, saying 
 Amen, while you read this ? If this be the case, then 
 I can with great pleasure give you, as it were, the 
 right hand of fellowship, and salute and embrace 
 you as a sincere disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 as one who is delivered from the power of darkness, 
 and is translated into the kingdom of the Son of 
 God. I can then salute you in the Lord, as one to 
 whom, as a minister of Jesus, I am commissioned 
 and charged to speak comfortably, and to tell you, 
 not that I absolve you from your sins, for it is a 
 small matter to be judged of man's judgment, but 
 that the blessed God himself absolveth you ; that 
 you are one to whom he has said in his gospel, and 
 is continually saying. Your sins are forgiven you ; 
 therefore go in peace, and take the comfort of it. 
 
 § 7. But if you are a stranger to these experiences, 
 and to this temper, which I have now described, the 
 great work is yet undone; you are an impenitent 
 and unbelieving sinner, and the wrath of God 
 abideth on you. However you may have been 
 awakened and alarmed, whatever resolutions you 
 may have formed for amending your life, how right 
 soever your notions may be, how pure soever your 
 forms of worship, how ardent soever your zeal, how 
 severe soever your mortification, how humane so- 
 ever your temper, how inoffensive soever your life 
 may be, I can speak no comfort to you. Vain arc 
 all your religious hopes, if there has not been a 
 cordial humiliation before the presence of God for 
 all your sins ; if there has not been this avowed 
 war declared against every thing displeasing to 
 God ; if there has not been this sense of your need 
 of Christ, and of your ruin w ithout him ; if there 
 has not been this earnest application to him, this 
 surrender of your soul into his hands by faith, this 
 renunciation of yourself, that you might fix on him 
 the anchor of your hope ; if there has not been this 
 unreserved dedication of yourself to be at all times, 
 and in all respects, the faithful servant of God 
 through him ; and if you do not with all this 
 acknowledge, that you are an unprofitable servant, 
 who have no other expectations of acceptance or 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 of pardon, but only tbrough his righteousness and 
 blood, and through the riches of divine grace in 
 him ; I repeat it again, that all your hopes are vain, 
 and you are building on the sand. The house you 
 have already raised must be thrown down to the 
 ground, and the foundation be removed and laid 
 anew, or you, and all your hopes, will shortly be 
 swept away with it, and buried under it in ever- 
 lasting ruin. 
 
 The soul suhmittirtg to divine examination , the sin- 
 cerity of its repentance and faith. 
 
 " O Lord God, thou searchest all hearts, and triest 
 the reins of the children of men. Search me, O 
 Lord, and know my heart ; try me, and know my 
 thoughts ; and see if there be any wicked way in 
 me, and lead me in the way everlasting. Doth not 
 conscience, O Lord, testify in thy presence, that my 
 repentance and faith are such as have been describ- 
 ed, or at least that it is my earnest prayer, that they 
 may be so ? Come therefore, O thou blessed Spirit, 
 who art the author of all grace and consolation, and 
 work this temper more fully iu my soul ! Oh re- 
 present sin to my eyes in all its most odious 
 colours, that I may feel a mortal and irreconcilable 
 hatred to it ! Oh represent the majesty and mercy 
 of the blessed God in such a manner, that my heart 
 may be alarmed, and that it may be melted! smite 
 the rock, that the waters may flow ; waters of genuine, 
 undissembled, and filial repentance! Convince me, 
 O thou blessed Spirit, of sin, of righteousness, and 
 of judgment! Show me that I have undone myself ; 
 but that my help is found in God alone, in God 
 through Christ, in whom alone he will extend com- 
 passion and help to me ! According to thy peculiar 
 office, take of Christ and show it unto me ! Sliow 
 me his power to save ! Show me his willingness to 
 exert that power ! Teach my failh to behold him, as 
 extended on the cross, with open arms, and h ilh a 
 piercing bleeding side ; and so telling me, in the 
 most forcible language, what room there is in his 
 very heart for me ! May I know what it is to have 
 my whole heart subdued by love ; so subdued as to 
 be crucified with him ; as to be dead to sin, and dead 
 to the world, but alive unto God through .Jesus 
 Christ! In his power and love may I conlidc ! To 
 him may I without any reseive commit my spirit! 
 His image may I bear! His laws may I observe ! His 
 service may I pursue ! And may I remain, through 
 time and eternity, a monument of the efficacy of 
 hi.s gospel, and a trophy of his victorious grace ! 
 
 " Oh blessed God ! if there be any thing wanting 
 towards constituting me a sincere Christian, dis- 
 cover it to me, and work it in me ! Beat down, I be- 
 seech thee, every false and presumptuous hope, how 
 costly soever that building may have been which is 
 thus laid in ruins, and how proud .soever 1 may have 
 E 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 49 
 
 been of its vain ornaments ! Let me know the worst 
 of my case, be that knowledge ever so distressful ; 
 and if there be remaining danger, O let my heart 
 be fully sensible of it, sensible while yet there is 
 remedy ! 
 
 " If there be any secret sin yet lurking in my 
 soul, which I have not sincerely renounced, discover 
 it to me, and rend it out of my heart, though it 
 shouhl have shot its roots ever so deep, and should 
 have wrapped them all around it, so that every nerve 
 should be pained by the separation ! Tear it away, O 
 Lord, by a hand graciously severe ! And by degrees, 
 yea. Lord, by speedy advances, go on, I beseech 
 thee, to perfect what is still lacking in my faith ! 
 Accomplish in me all the good pleasure of thy good- 
 ness : enrich me, O heavenly Father, with all the 
 graces of thy Spirit : form me to the complete image 
 of thy dear Son : and then, for his sake, come unto 
 me, and manifest thy gracious presence in my soul, 
 till it is ripened for that state of glory for which all 
 tliese operations are intended to prepare it ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 A more particular view of the several branches of 
 the Christian temper ; hy which the reader may he 
 further assisted in judyiny what he is, and what he 
 should endeavour to be. * 
 
 The importance of the case engaj^es to a more particular survey, what 
 maiiiier of spirit we are of, j 1, 2. Accordiiif^ly tlie Cliristiaii temper 
 is described, (I.) By some general views of it as a new and divine 
 temper, } .). As resembling that of Christ, 5 4. And as engaging 
 MS to be spiritually minded, and to walk by faith, 5 5. A plan of 
 the remainder, { 0. In which the Christian temper is more parti, 
 cnlarly considered, (2.) With regard to the blessed God ; as including 
 fear, aftection, and obedience, { 7. Faith and love to Christ, } 8, 9. 
 Joy in him, j 10. And a proper temper toward;! the Holy Spirit, 
 particularly as a Spirit of adoption and of courai^c, } 11 — 13. (.3) 
 With regard to ourselves ; as inehldhig preference of llic soul to the 
 body, huniihiy, purity. } 14. Temperance,} l.'j Contentment, } 10. 
 And patience, } 17. (4.) With regaril to our fellow.creatures; as in. 
 eluding love, { 18. Meekness, 5 ly. I'eaceableness, { 20. Mercy, 5 21. 
 Truth,} 22. And candour in judging, { 23. (5.) General (pialifications 
 of each branch, 3 24. Such as sincerity, } 25. Constancy. { 2G. 'I'en. 
 derness, 5 27. Zeal, } 28. And prudence, } 29. These things should 
 frequently be recollected, } 30. A review of all in a scriptural 
 prayer. 
 
 § 1. When I consider the infinite importance of 
 eternity, I find it exceedingly difficult to satisfy my- 
 self in any thing which I can say to men, where 
 their eternal interests are concerned. I have given 
 you a view, I hope I may truly say a just as well as 
 a faithful view, of a truly Christian temper already ; 
 yet, for your further assistance, I would oftcr it to 
 your consideration in various points of light, that you 
 may be assisted in judging of what you are, and of 
 what you ought to be. And in this I aim, not only 
 at your conviction, if you are yet a stranger to real 
 religion, but at your further edification, if, by the 
 grace of God, you are by this time experinientaUy 
 
 • This eliapter is almost an abridgment of that excellent book of Dr 
 Evans, entitled. The Christian Temper, so far as it relates to the de. 
 scripliou of it. For particular arguments, to enforce each part of this 
 ti inper, I must refer the reader to the book itself. 
 
THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 acquiiinleil witli it. Happy "ill you be, happy he- 
 jond oxpiTssion, if, as you sjo on from one artiele 
 to another, you ean say, " Tliis is my temper and eha- 
 ractcr." Happy, in no ineonsiderable degree, if you 
 ean say, " This is w hat I desire, what I pray for, and 
 what I pursue, in preference to every opposite view , 
 thou}!,h it be not what 1 have as yet attained." 
 
 % 2. Search tlien, and try what manner of spirit 
 you are of. And may he that scarclieth all hearts 
 direct the incpiiry, and enable you so to judge your- 
 self, that you may not be condemned of the Lord ! 
 
 § 3. Know in the ••eneral, thai if you are a (Jliris- 
 tian indeed, you have been renewed in the spirit of 
 your mind ; so renewed, as to be regenerated and 
 born again. It is not enough to have assumed a 
 new name, to have been brought under some new 
 restraints, or to have made a partial change in some 
 particulars of your conduct. The change must be 
 great and universal. In«iuire tlien, whether you 
 have entertained new apprehensions of things, have 
 formed a practical judgment (lilferent from w hat you 
 formerly did ; whether the ends you propose, the 
 affections which you feel working in your heart, and 
 the course of action to which, by those affections, 
 you are directed, be on the whole new or old ?* 
 Again, if you are a Christian indeed, you are 
 partaker of a divine nature ; divine in its original, 
 its tendency, and its resemblance. Inquire there- 
 fore, whether God liath implanted a principle in 
 your heart, which tends to him, and which makes 
 you like him. — Search your soul attentively, to see 
 if you have really the image there of God's moral 
 perfections, of his holiness and righteousness, his 
 goodness and fidelity ; for the new man is after God 
 created in righteousness and true holiness, and is 
 renew ed In know ledge after the image of him that 
 created him. 
 
 § 4. For your further assistance inquire, whether 
 the same mind be in you w hich was also in Christ .' 
 whether you bear the image of God's incarnate Son, 
 the l)rightest and fairest resemblance of the Father, 
 w hich earth or lieaven has ever beheld ? The 
 blessed Jesus designed himself to be a model for 
 all his follow ers ; and he is certainly a model most 
 fit for our imitation ; an example in our own nature, 
 and in circumstances adapted to general use ; an 
 example, recommended to us at once by its spotless 
 perfection, and by the endearing relations in which 
 he stands to us, as our Master, our Friend, and our 
 Head ; as the person by whom our everlasting state 
 is to be fixed, and in a resemblance to whom our 
 final happiness is to consist, if ever we be happy 
 at all. Look then into the life and temper of Christ, 
 as described and illustrated in the gospels, and 
 searcli whether you can find any thing like it in your 
 ow n life. Have you any thing of his devotion, love, 
 
 * The rp.'idcr m.iy see tliftsc thoughts ilhistrated at largo, in the three 
 first of my Sermons on Regeneration. 
 
 and resignation to God ? Any thing of his humility, 
 meekness, and benevolence to men? Any tiling of 
 his purity and wisdom, his contempt of the world, 
 his patience, his fortitude, his zeal .' And indeed all 
 the other branches of the Christian temper, wliich 
 do not imply previous guilt in the person by whom 
 they are exercised, may be called in to illustrate and 
 assist your in(iuiries under this head. 
 
 § 5. Let me add, if you are a Christian, you are 
 in the main spiritually miiuled, as know ing tliat it is 
 life and peace, whereas to be carnally-minded is 
 death. Tiiough you live in the llesh, you will not 
 war after it ; you will not take your orders and 
 your conmiands from it. You will indeed attend to 
 its necessary interests, as matter of duty, but it will 
 still be with regard to another and a nobler interest, 
 that of the rational and inmiortal spiiit. Your 
 thoughts, your afi'ections, your pursuits, your choice, 
 « iil be determined by a regard to things spiritual, 
 rather tiian carnal. In a word, you will walk by 
 faith, and not by siglit. Future, invisible, and in 
 some degree incomprehensible, objects, will take up 
 your mind. Your faith will act on the being of 
 God, his perfections, his providences, his precepts, 
 his threatenings, and his promises. It will act upon 
 Clirist, whom having not seen, you will love and 
 honour. It will act on that unseen world, which it 
 knows to be eternal, and therefore inlinitely more 
 worthy of your afl'cctionate regard, than any of those 
 things which are seen, and arc temporal. 
 
 § {). These are general views of the Christian 
 temper, on which I would entreat you to examine 
 yourself. And now 1 would go on to lead you into 
 a survey of the grand branches of it, as relating to 
 God, our neighbour, and ourselves ; and of those 
 qualifications, which must attend each of these 
 branches, such as sincerity, constancy, tenderness, 
 zeal, and prudence. And I beg your diligent atten- 
 tion, while I lay before you a few hints witli regard 
 to each, by which you may judge the better, botli 
 of your state and your duty. 
 
 § 7. Examine then, I entreat you, the temper 
 of your heart, with regard to the blessed God. Do 
 you find there a reverential fear, and a supreme 
 love and veneration for his incomparable excel- 
 lences, a desire after him as the highest good, and 
 a cordial gratitude towards him as your supreme 
 Benefactor ? Can you trust his care ? Can you credit 
 his testimony? Do you desire to pay an unreserved 
 obedience to all that he commands, and a humble 
 submission to all the disposals of his providence 
 Do you design his glory as your noblest end, and 
 make it the great business of your life to approve 
 yourself to him ? Is it your governing care to imitate 
 him, and to serve him in spirit and in truth ? 
 
 ^ 8. Faith in Christ I have already described at 
 large ; and therefore shall say nothing further, either 
 of that persuasion of his power and grace, which is 
 
OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 51 
 
 the great foundation of it ; or of that acceptance of 
 Christ under all his characters, or that surrender of 
 the soul into his hands, in which its peculiar and 
 distinguishing nature consists. 
 
 § 9. If this faith in Christ be sincere, it will un- 
 doubtedly produce a love to him ; which will ex- 
 press itself in all'ectionate thoughts of him; in strict 
 fidelity to him; in a careful observation of his 
 charge ; in a regard to his Spirit, to his friends, and 
 to his interests ; in a reverence to the memorials of 
 his dying love which he has instituted ; and in an 
 ardent desire after that heavenly world where he 
 dwells, and where he will at length have all his 
 people to dwell with him. 
 
 § 10. I may add, agreeably to the word of God, 
 that thus believing in Christ, and loving him, you 
 will also rejoice in him ; in his glorious design, 
 and in his complete fitness to accomplish it ; in the 
 promises of his word, and in the privileges of his 
 people. It will be matter of joy to you, that such 
 a Redeemer has appeared in this world of ours ; 
 and your joy for yourselves will be proportionable 
 to the degree of clearness with which you discern 
 your interest in him, and relation to him. 
 
 § 11. Let me further lead you into some reflections 
 on the temper of your heart towards the blessed 
 Spirit. If we have not the Spirit of Christ, we arc 
 none of his. If we are not led by the Spirit of God, 
 we are not the children of God. You will then, if 
 you are a real Christian, desire that you may be 
 filled with the Spirit, that you may have cvei-j 
 power of your soul subject to his authority ; that 
 his agency on your heart be more constant, more 
 operative, and more delightful. And to cherish 
 these sacred influences, you will often have re- 
 course to serious consideration and meditation; 
 you will abstain from those sins, which tend to 
 grieve him ; you will improve the tender seasons, 
 in which he seems to breathe upon your soul ; you 
 will strive earnestly with God in prayer, that you 
 may have him shed on you still more abundantly 
 through Jesus Christ; and you will be desirous to 
 fall in with the great end of his mission, which was 
 to glorify Christ, and to establish his kingdom. 
 You will desire his influences as the Spirit of 
 adoption, to render your acts of worship free 
 and afl'ectionate, your obedience vigorous, your 
 sorrow for sin overflowing and tender, your resigna- 
 tion meek, and your love ardent ; in a word, to 
 carry you through life and death, with the temper 
 of a child, who delights in his father, and who 
 longs for his more innnediate presence. 
 
 § 12. Once more, if you are a Christian indeed, 
 you will be desirous to obtain the spirit of courage. 
 Amidst all that humility of soul to which you will 
 be formed, you will wish to commence a hero in 
 the cause of Christ, opposing with a vigorous reso- 
 lution the strongest cllorts of the powers of dark- 
 E 2 
 
 ness, the inward corruption of your own heart, and 
 all the outward dilliculties you may meet with in 
 the way of your duty, while in the cause and in the 
 strengtli of Christ you go on concjuering and to 
 conquer. 
 
 § 13. All these things may be considered as 
 branches of godliness ; of that godliness which is 
 profitable unto all things, and hath the promise of 
 the life which now is, and of that which is to come. 
 
 § 14. Let me now further lay before you some 
 branches of the Christian temper, which relate 
 more immediately to ourselves. And here, if you 
 are a Christian indeed, you will undoubtedly 
 prefer the soul to the body, and things eternal to 
 those that are temporal. Conscious of the dignity 
 and value of your immortal part, you will come to 
 a firm resolution to secure its happiness, whatever is 
 to be resigned, whatever is to be endured, in that 
 view. — If you are a real Christian, you will also 
 be clothed with humility. You will have a deep 
 sense of your own imperfections, both natural and 
 moral ; of the short extent of your knowledge ; of 
 the uncertainty and weakness of your resolutions ; 
 and of your continual dependence upon God, and 
 upon almost every thing about you. And especial- 
 ly, j'ou will be deeply sensible of your guilt, the re- 
 membrance of which will fill you with shame and 
 confusion, even when you have some reason to hope 
 it is forgiven. This will forbid all haughtiness and 
 insolence in your behaviour to your fellow-creatures. 
 It will teach you, under afllictive providences, with 
 all holy submission to bear the indignation of the 
 Lord, as those that know they have sinned against 
 him. — Again, if you are a Christian indeed, you 
 will labour after purity of soul, and maintain a 
 fixed abhorrence of all prohibited sensual indulg- 
 ence. A recollection of past impurities will fill 
 you with shame and grief; and you will endeavour 
 for the future to guard your thoughts and desires, as 
 well as your words and actions ; and to abstain, not 
 only from the commission of evil, but from the dis- 
 tant appearance and probable occasions of it : as 
 conscious of the perfect holiness of that God with 
 whom you converse, and the purifying nature of that 
 hope, which by his gospel he hath taught you to en- 
 tertain. 
 
 § 15. With this is nearly allied that amiable 
 virtue of temperance, which will teach you to guard 
 against such a use of meats and drinks as indisposes 
 the body for the service of the soul ; or such an in- 
 dulgence in either as will rob you of that precious 
 jewel, your time, or occasion an expense beyond 
 what your circumstances will admit, and beyond 
 what will consist with those liberalities to the poor 
 which your relation and theirs to God and each 
 other will require. In short, you will guard against 
 whatever has a tendency to increase a sensual dis- 
 position ; against whatever would alienate the soul 
 
THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 from I'oniniuiiion with God, and would diminish its 
 zeal and activity in Iiis service. 
 
 ^ 16. The divine jihilosophy of tlie l)Iessed Jesus 
 will also teaeh you a contented teniper. It will 
 moderate your desires of those worldly enjoyments, 
 after which many feel such an insatiable thirst, ever 
 jrrowini"- with indulgence and success. You will 
 ffuard against an inunodcrate care about those things 
 which would lead you into a forijetfulness of your 
 heavenly inheritance. If Providence disappoint 
 your uiidertakinjrs, you will submit. If others be 
 more jirospcrous, you will not envy them ; but ratlier 
 will be thankful for what God is pleased to bestow 
 upon them, as well as for what he gives you. No 
 unlawful methods will be used to alter your present 
 condition ; and whatever it is, you will endeavour 
 to make the best of it ; remcmberin<j, it is what in- 
 linite wisdom and fjoodness have appointed you, and 
 that it is beyond all comparison better than you have 
 deserved ; yea, that the very deficiencies and incon- 
 veniences of it may conduce to the improvement of 
 your future and complete happiness. 
 
 § 17. With contentment, if you are a disciple of 
 Christ, you will join patience too, and in patience 
 will possess your souls. You eannot indeed be 
 quite insensible, either of afflictions, or of injuries; 
 but your mind will be calm and composed under 
 tlicm, and steady in the prosecution of proper duty, 
 tliou^li afllictions press, and though your hopes, 
 your dearest hopes and prospects, be delayed. 
 Patience will prevent rash and hasty conclusions, 
 and fortify you against seeking irregular methods 
 of relief; disposing you in the mean time, till God 
 shall be pleased to appear for you, to go on steadily 
 in the way of your duty, committing yourself to 
 him in well doing. You will also be careful, that 
 patience may have its perfect work, and prevail in 
 proportion to those circumstances which demand its 
 peculiar exercise. For instance, when the suc- 
 cessions of evil are long and various, so that deep 
 calls to deep, and all God's waves and billows seem 
 to be going over you one after another ; when God 
 touches you in the most tender part ; when the 
 reasons of his conduct to you are quite unaccount- 
 able ; when your natural spirits are weak and de- 
 cayed ; when unlawful methods of redress seem 
 near and easy ; still your reverence for the will of 
 your heavenly Father will carry it against all, and 
 keep you waiting quietly for deliverance in his own 
 time and way. 
 
 [N. B. If this chapter srnn too long to he read at 
 once, it may properly he divided /lej-e-l 
 
 § 18. I have thus led you into a brief review of 
 the Christian temper, with respect to God and our- 
 selves : permit me now to add, that the gospel will 
 teach you another set of very important lessons with 
 
 respect to your fcllow-crcattircs. They are all 
 summed up in this. Thou shalt love thy neighbour 
 as thyself; and whatsoever thou wouldst (that is, 
 whatsoever thou couldst in an exchange of circum- 
 stances fairly and reasonably desire) that others 
 should do unto tliee, do thou likewise the same tinto 
 them. The religit)n of tlie blessed .Icsus, when it 
 triumphs in your soul, will concpier thei)rcdominancy 
 of an irregular self-love, ami \vill1ca(!h you <-andidly 
 and tenderly to look upon your neighbour as another 
 self. As you are sensible of your own rights, you 
 will be sensible of his ; as you support your own 
 character, yon will support his. You will desire 
 his welfare, and be ready to relieve his necessity, as 
 you would have your own consulted by another. 
 You will put the kindest construction upon his 
 dubious words and actions. You will take jjleasure 
 in his happiness ; you will feel his distress, in some 
 measure, as your own. And most happy will you be, 
 when this obvious rule is familiar to your mind ; 
 when this golden law is written upon your heart ; 
 and when it is liabitually and impartially consulted 
 by you, upon every occasion, whether great or small. 
 
 ^ 19. The gospel will also teaeh you to put on 
 meekness, not only with respect to God, submitting 
 to the authority of his word, and the disposal of 
 his providence, as was urged before ; but also with 
 regard to your brethren of mankind. Its gentle in- 
 structions will form you to calmness of temper 
 under injuries and provocations, so that you may 
 not be angry without or beyond just cause. It will 
 engage you to guard your words, lest you provoke 
 and exasperate those you should rather study by 
 love to gain, and by tenderness to heaJ. Meekness 
 will render you slow in using any rough and violent 
 methods, if they can by any means be lawfully 
 avoided; and ready to admit, and even to propose, a 
 reconciliation, after they have been entered into, if 
 there may yet be hope of succeeding. So far as 
 this branch of the Christian temper prevails in your 
 heart, you will take care to avoid every thing which 
 might give unnecessary ofl'ence to others ; you will 
 behave yourself in a modest manner, according to 
 your station ; and it will work, both with regard to 
 superiors and inferiors ; teaching you duly to ho- 
 nour the one, and not to overbear or oppress, to 
 grieve or insult, the other. And in religion itself, it 
 will restrain all immoderate sallies and harsh cen- 
 sures ; and v. ill command down that wrath of man, 
 which instead of working, so often opposes, the 
 righteousness of God, and shames and wounds that 
 good cause, in which it is boisterously and furiously 
 engaged. 
 
 § 30. With this is naturally connected a peace- 
 ful disposition. If you are a Christian indeed, 
 you will have such a value and esteem for peace, as 
 to endeavour to obtain and to preserve it, as much 
 as lieth in you, as much as you fairly and honour- 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 ably can. This will have such an influence upon 
 your conduct, as to make you not only cautious of 
 giving offence, and slow in taking it, but earnestly 
 desirous to regain peace as soon as may be, when 
 it is in any measure broken ; that the wound may 
 be healed while it is green, and before it begins to 
 rankle and fester. And more especially this dispo- 
 sition will engage you to keep the unity of the 
 Spirit in the bond of peace, with all that in every 
 place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ ; 
 whom, if you truly love, you will also love all those 
 whom you have reason to believe to be his dis- 
 ciples and servants. 
 
 § 21. If you be yourselves indeed of that number, 
 you will also put on bowels of mercy. The mer- 
 cies of God, and those of the blessed Redeemer, 
 will work on your heart, to mould it to sentiments 
 of compassion and generosity, so that you will feel 
 the wants and sorrows of others ; you will desire to 
 relieve their necessities, and, as you have an op- 
 portunity, you will do good both to their bodies and 
 their souls ; expressing your kind affections iu 
 suitable actions, which may both evince their 
 sincerity, and render them effectual. 
 
 § 22. As a Christian, you will also maintain 
 truth inviolable, not only in your solemn testimo- 
 nies, when confirmed by an oath, but likewise in 
 common conversation. You will remember, too, 
 that your promises brinf^ an obligation upon you 
 which you are by no means at liberty to break 
 tiirough. On the whole, you will be careful to keep 
 a strict correspondence between your words and 
 your actions, in such a manner as becomes a ser- 
 vant of the God of truth. 
 
 ^ 23. Once more, as amidst the strictest care to 
 observe all the divine precepts, you will still find 
 many imperfections, on account of which you will 
 be obliged to pray, that God would not enter into 
 strict judgment with you, as well knowing tl(-at in 
 his sight you cannot be justified ; you will be 
 careful not to judge others in such a manner as 
 should awaken the severity of his judgment against 
 yourself. You will not, .therefore, judge them 
 pragmatically, that is, when you have notiiing to do 
 with their actions ; nor rashly, without inquiring 
 into circumstances ; nor partially, without weighing 
 them attentively and fairly ; nor uncharitably, 
 putting the worst construction upon things in their 
 own nature dubious, deciding upon intentions as 
 evil further than they certainly appear to be so, 
 pronouncing on the state of men, or on the whole 
 of their character, from any particular action, and 
 involving the innocent with the guilty. There is a 
 moderation contrary to ail these extremes, which 
 the gospel recommends ; and if you receive the 
 gospel in good earnest into your heart, it will lay 
 the ax'' to the root of such evils as these. 
 
 § 24. Having thus briefly illustrated the principal 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 53 
 
 branches of the Christian temper and character, I 
 shall conclude the representation with remindingyou 
 of some general qualifications, which must be mingled 
 with all, and give a tincture to each of them ; such as 
 sincerity, constancy, tenderness, zeal, and prudence. 
 
 § 25. Always remember, that sincerity is the 
 very soul of true religion. A single intention to 
 please God, and to approve ourselves to him, must 
 animate and govern all that we do in it. Under the 
 influence of this principle, you will impartially in- 
 quire into every intimation of duty, and apply to 
 the practice of it so far as it is known to you. Your 
 heart will be engaged in all you do. Your conduct in 
 private and in secret will be agreeable to your most 
 public behaviour. A sense of the divine authority 
 will teach you to esteem all God's precepts concern- 
 ing all things to be right, and to hate every false way. 
 
 § 20. Thus are you in simplicity and godly sin- 
 cerity to have your conversation in the world. And 
 you are also to charge it upon your soul to be 
 stedfast and immovable, always abounding in the 
 work of the Lord. There must not only be some 
 sudden fits and starts of devotion, or of something 
 which looks like it; but religion must be an habitual 
 and permanent thing. There must be a purpose to 
 adhere to it at all times. It must be made the 
 stated and ordinary business of life. Deliberate 
 and presumptuous sins must be carefully avoided ; 
 a guard must be maintained against the common 
 infirmities of life ; and falls of one kind or of 
 another must be matter of proportionable humili- 
 ation before God, and must occasion renewed reso- 
 Intions for his service. And thus you are to go on 
 to the end of your life, not discouraged by the 
 length and difficulty of the way ; nor allured on the 
 one hand, or terrified on the other, by all the various 
 temptations which may surround and assault you. 
 Your soul must be fixed on this basis, and you are 
 still to behave yourself as one who knows he serves 
 an unchangeable God, and who expects from him 
 a kingdom which cannot be moved. 
 
 § 27. Again, so far as the gospel prevails in your 
 heart, your spirit will be tender, and the stone 
 will be transformed into flesh. You will desire, 
 that your api)rehension of divine things may be 
 quick, your affections ready to take proper impres- 
 sions, your conscience always easily touched, and, 
 on the whole, your resolutions pliant to the divine 
 authority, and cordially willing to be, and to do, 
 whatever God shall appoint. You will have a ten- 
 der regard to the word of God, a tender caution 
 against sin, a tender guard against the snares of 
 prosperity, a tender submission to God's afflicting 
 hand ; in a word, you will be tender, wherever the 
 divine honour is concerned ; and careful, neither to 
 do any thing yourself, nor to allow any thing in 
 another, so far as you can influence, by which God 
 should be offended, or religion reproached. 
 
54 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 § 28. Nay more tliiiii all lliis, you will, so far as 
 true Christianity "•ovt-rns in your mind, exert a 
 holy zeal in the service of your Redeemer and your 
 Father. You will l)e zealously affected in every 
 good thin<r. in proportion to its apprehended good- 
 ness and iniportfinee. You will be zealous, espe- 
 I'ially, to correct what is irrcu,"ular in yourselves, and 
 to act to the utmost of your ability for the cause of 
 (Jod. Nor will you be able to look with an indif- 
 ferent eye on the conduct of others in this view ; 
 but so far as charity, meekness, and prudence, will 
 admit, you will testify your disapprobation of every 
 thins; in it which is dishonourable to God, and in- 
 jurious to men. And you will labour, not only to 
 reclaim men from such courses, but to engage them 
 to religion, and to <|uickcn them in it. 
 
 § 29. \nd once more, you will desire to use the 
 prudence which God hath given you, in judging 
 what is, in present circumstances, your duty to (Jod, 
 your neighbour, and yourself; what will be, on the 
 v\'hole, the most acceptable manner of disc^harging 
 it, and how far it may be most advantageously pur- 
 sued ; as remembering, that he is indeed the wisest 
 and the liajipiest man, who, by constant attention of 
 thought, discovers the greatest opportunities of doing 
 good, and with ardent and animated resolution 
 breaks through every opposition, that he may im- 
 prove those opportunities. 
 
 ^ 30. This is such a view of the Christian tem- 
 per as could conveniently be thrown within such 
 nanow limits : and I hope it may assist many in 
 the great and important work of self-examination. 
 Let your own conscience answer, how far you have 
 already attained it, and how far you desire it ; and 
 let the principal topics here touched upon be fixed 
 in your memory and in your heart, that you may be 
 mentioning them before God in your daily addresses 
 to the throne of grace, in order to receive from him 
 all necessary assistances for bringing them into 
 practice. 
 
 A Praypr vldeflyin Scripture language, in which the 
 several branches of the Christian temper are nio) c 
 briefly enumerated in the order laid down above. 
 
 " Blessed God, I humbly adore thee, as the great 
 Father of lights, and the giver of every good and 
 every perfect gift. From thee therefore I seek every 
 blessing, and especially those which may lead me to 
 thyself, and prepare me for the eternal enjoyment of 
 thee. I adore thee, as the God who searches the 
 hearts and tries the reins of the children of men. 
 Search me, O God, and know my heart ; try me, 
 and know my thoughts : see if there be any wicked 
 way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. 
 May I know what manner of spirit I am of, and be 
 preserved from mistaking, where the error might be 
 infinitely fatal ! 
 
 " May I, () Lord, be renewed in the spirit of my 
 mind ! A new heart do thou give me, and a new 
 spirit do thou put within me ! Make me partaker 
 of a divine nature ; and as he who hath called me 
 is holy, may I be holy in all manner of conversation ! 
 May the same mind be in me which was in Christ 
 Jesus ; and may I so walk even as he walked ! 
 Deliver me from being carnally minded, which is 
 death ; and make mc spiritually minded, since that 
 is life and peace. And may L while I pass through 
 this world of sense, walk by faith, and not by sight ; 
 and he strong in faith, giving glory to God ! 
 
 " May thy grace, O Lord, which hath appeared 
 unto all men, and appeared to me with such glorious 
 evidence and lustre, effectually teach me to deny 
 ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, 
 righteously, and godly ! Work in my heart that 
 godliness which is [irofitable unto all things ; and 
 teach me by the influence of thy blessed Spirit, to 
 love thee, the Lord my God, with all my heart, 
 and with all my soul, and with all my mind, and 
 with all my strength. May T yield myself unto thee, 
 as alive from the dead ; and present my body a liv- 
 ing sacrifice, holy and acceptable in thy sight, which 
 is my most reasonable service. May I entertain the 
 most faithful and affectionate regards to the blessed 
 Jesus, thine incarnate Son, the brightness of thy 
 glory, and the express image of thy person. Though 
 I have not seen him, may I love him ; and in him, 
 though now I see him not, yet believing, may I re- 
 joice with joy unspeakable and full of glory : and 
 may the life which I live in the flesh be daily by 
 the faith of the Son of God. May I be filled with 
 the Spirit, and may I be led by it ; and so may it be 
 evident to others, and especially to my own soul, 
 that I am a child of God, and an heir of glory. May 
 I not receive the spirit of bondage unto fear, but 
 the Spirit of adoption, whereby I may be enabled to 
 cry, Abba, Father! May he work in me as the spirit 
 of love, and of power, and of a sound mind ; that 
 so I may add to my faith virtue. May I be strong, 
 and very courageous, and quit myself like a man 
 and like a Christian, in the work to which I am 
 called ; and in that warfare which I had in view 
 when I listed under the banner of the great Captain 
 of my salvation ! 
 
 " Teach me, O Lord, seriously to consider the 
 nature of my own soul, and to set a suitable value 
 upon it! May I labour not only, or chielly, for the 
 meat that perisheth, but for that which endureth to 
 eternal life ! May I humble myself under thy mighty 
 hand, and be clothed with humility ; decked with 
 the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which in 
 the sight of God is of great price! May I be pure in 
 heart, that I may see God ; mortifying my members 
 which are on the earth ; so that if a right eye offend 
 me, I may pluck it out, and if a right hand offend 
 mc, I may cut it off! May I be temperate in all 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 things, content with such things as I have, and in- 
 structed to be so, in whatsoever state I am ! May 
 patience also have its perfect work in me, that I may 
 be in that respect complete and wanting nothing ! 
 
 " Form me, O Lord, I beseech thee, to a proper 
 temper towards my fellow-creatures ! May I love my 
 neighbour as myself: and whatsoever I would that 
 others should do unto me, may I also do the same 
 unto them ! May I put on meekness under the great- 
 est injuries and provocations ; and if it be possible, 
 as much as lietli in me, may I live peaceably with 
 all men. May I be merciful, as my Father in heaven 
 is merciful. May I speak the truth from my heart ; 
 and may I speak it in love, guarding against every 
 instance of a censorious and malignant disposition ; 
 and taking care not to judge severely, as I would not 
 be judged with a severity which thou. Lord, know- 
 est, and which my own conscience knows, I should 
 not be able to support ! 
 
 " I entreat thee, O Lord, to work in me all those 
 qualifications of the Christian temper, which may 
 render it peculiarly acceptable to thee, and may 
 prove ornamental to my profession in the world. 
 Renew, I beseech thee, a right spirit within me ; 
 make me an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no 
 allowed guile. And while I feast on Christ, as my 
 passover sacrificed for me, may I keep the feast 
 with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. 
 Make me, I beseech thee, O thou almighty and un- 
 changeable God, stedfast and immovable, always 
 abounding in thy work, as knowing that my labour 
 in the Lord shall not be finally in vain. May my 
 heart be tender, easily impressed with thy word and 
 providence, touched with an afl'ectionate concern 
 for thy glory, and sensible of every impulse of thy 
 Spirit. May I be zealous for my God, with a zeal ac- 
 cording to knowledge and charity, and teach me in 
 thy service to join the wisdom of the serpent with 
 the boldness of the lion, and the innocence of the 
 dove. Thus render me, by thy grace, a shining image 
 of my dear Redeemer; and at length bring me to 
 wear the bright resemblance of his holiness and his 
 glory in that world where he dwells ; that I may as- 
 cribe everlasting honours to him, and to thee, O thou 
 Father of mercies, whose invaluable gift he is, and 
 to thine Holy Spirit, through whose gracious infiu- 
 ences I would humbly hope I may call thee my 
 Father, and Jesus my Saviour ! Amen," 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 The reader reminded how much he needs the assistance 
 of the Spirit of God, to form him to the temper 
 described above, and what cncourai/emcnt he has to 
 expect it. 
 
 Forward resolutions may prove ineffecliial, { 1. Vet religion is not to 
 be given up in despair, ljut divine grace souglit, { 2. A general view 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 56 
 
 of its reality and necessity, from reason, { 3. and Seri|itnrc, } 4. Tljc 
 Spirit to he sought, as tlie Spirit of Christ, \ 5, And in tliat view, tlie 
 great strength of the soul, { (i. The encouragement there is to hope 
 for the communication of it, ^7. A concluding exhortation t(» i)ray 
 for it, 5 8. And a humble address lo God, pursuant to that exhort- 
 ation. 
 
 § 1. I HAVE now laid before you a plan of that tem- 
 per and character which the gospel requires, and 
 which, if you are a true Christian, you will desire 
 and pursue. Surely there is in the very description 
 of it something which must powerfully strike every 
 mind, which has any taste for what is truly beautiful 
 and excellentr. And I question not, but you, my 
 dear reader, will feel some impression of it upon 
 your heart. You will immediately form some lively 
 purpose of endeavouring after it; and perhaps you 
 may imagine, you shall certainly and quickly attain 
 to it. You see how reasonable it is, and what 
 desirable consequences necessarily attend it, and 
 the aspect which it bears on your present enjoyment, 
 and your future happiness ; and therefore are deter- 
 mined you will act accordingly. But give me leave 
 seriously to remind you, how many there have been, 
 (would to God that several of the instances had not 
 happened within the compass of my own personal 
 observation !) whose goodness hath been like a 
 morning cloud, and the early dew, which soon 
 passeth away. There is not room indeed absolutely 
 to apply the words of Joshua, taken in the most 
 rigorous sense, when he said to Israel, (that he might 
 humble their too hasty and sanguine resolutions,) 
 Ye cannot serve the Lord. But I will venture to 
 say, you cannot easily do it. Alas, you know not 
 the difficulties you have to break through ; you know 
 not the temptations which Satan will throw in your 
 way ; j'ou know not how importunate your vain and 
 sinful companions will be, to draw you back into 
 the snare you may attempt to break ; and above all, 
 you know not the subtle artifices which your own 
 corruptions will practise upon you, in order to 
 recover their dominion over you. You think the 
 views you now have of things will be lasting, be- 
 cause the principles and objects to which they refer 
 arc so ; but perhaps to-morrow may undeceive you, 
 or rather deceive you anew. To-morrow may pre- 
 sent some trifle in a new dress, which shall amuse 
 you into a forgctfuliicss of all this. Nay, perhaps, 
 Ijeforc you lie down on your bed, the impressions 
 }ou now feel may wear olF. The corrupt desires of 
 your own heart, now perhaps a little charmed down, 
 and lying as if they were dead, may spring up again 
 with new violence, as if they had slept only to recruit 
 their vigour ; and if you are not supported by a 
 better strength than your own, this struggle for 
 liberty will oidymake your future chains the heavier, 
 the more shameful, and the more fatal. 
 
 § 2. What then is to be done .' Is the convinced 
 sinner to lie down in despair ? to say, " I am a help- 
 less captive ; and by exerting myself with violence, 
 may break my limbs sooner than my bonds, and 
 
56 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 increase the evil 1 would remove." God forbid ! You 
 cannot, I am persuaded, be so little acquainted willi 
 Christianity as not to know, " that the doctrine of 
 divine assistance bears a very considerable part in 
 it." You have often, I doubt not, read of the law of 
 the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, as making us free 
 from tlie law of sin and death ; atul have been told 
 that throunh the Spirit we mortify the deeds of tlie 
 body: you liave read of doinn- all tliinfjs thr()uj;li 
 Christ who strenj-theneth us ; whose jjrace is sulli- 
 cient for us, and whose strength is made perfect in 
 weakness. Permit me, therefore, now to call down 
 your attention to this, as a truth of the clearest 
 evidence, and of the utmost importance. 
 
 § 3. Reason, indeed, as well as the whole tenor 
 of Scripture, n2;rees with this.* The wliole created 
 world has a necessary dependence on God ; from 
 bini even the knowledge of natural tilings is de- 
 rived, and skill in them is to be ascribed to him. 
 Much more loudly does so great and excellent a 
 work, as the new-forming the human mind, be- 
 speak its divine Author. When you consider how 
 various the branches of the Christian temper are, 
 and how contrary many of them also are to that 
 temper, which hath prevailed in your heart, and 
 governed your life in time past ; you must really 
 see divine inlluenees as necessary to produce and 
 nourish them, as the influences of the sun and rain 
 are to call up the variety of plants, and flowers, and 
 grain, and fruits, by which the earth is adorned, and 
 our life supported. You will yet be more sensible 
 of tl'.is, if you reflect on the violent opposition which 
 this happy work must be expected to meet w ith, of 
 which I shall presently "varn you more largely, and 
 whit h if you have not already experienced, it must 
 be because you have but very lately begun to think 
 of religion. 
 
 § 4. Accordingly, if you give yourself leave to 
 consult Scripture on this head, (and if you would 
 live like a Christian, you must be consulting it every 
 day, and fomiing your notions and actions by it,) 
 you will see, that the whole tenor of it teaches that 
 dependence upon God, which I am now recom- 
 mending. You will particularly sec, that the pro- 
 duction of religion in the soul is matter of divine 
 promise ; that when it has l)een aflected. Scripture 
 ascribes it to a divine agency ; and that the increase 
 of grace and piety in- the heart of those who are 
 truly regenerate, is also spoken of as the work of 
 God, who begins and carries it on until the day of 
 .Jesus Christ. 
 
 § .0. In consequence of all these views, lay it 
 down to yourself as a most certain principle, " that 
 110 attempt in religion is to be made in your own 
 strength." If you forget tliis, and God purposes 
 finally to save you, he will humble you by repeated 
 
 * See many of lliese tlmughU much more largely illuslratcd in niy 
 seventh Sermon on RcgiMieration. 
 
 disappointments, till he teach you better. You 
 will be ashamed of one scheme and efTort, and of 
 another, till you settle upon the true basis. He 
 w ill also probably show you, not only in the general, 
 that your strength is to be derived from heaven ; 
 but particularly, that it is theolhce of the bles.sed 
 Spirit, to purify the lieart, and to invigorate holy 
 resolutions; and also, that in all these operations he 
 is to be considered as the Spirit of Christ, working 
 under his direction, and as a vital communication 
 from him, under the character of the great Head of 
 the church, the grand treasurer and dispenser of 
 these holy and beneficial influences. On which 
 account it is called the supply of the Spirit of Jesus 
 Christ, who is exalted at the right hand of the 
 Father, to give repentance and remission of sins ; in 
 whose grace alone we can be strong, and of whose 
 fulness we receive, even grace for grace. 
 
 § 6. Resolve therefore strenuously for the service 
 of God, and for the care of your soul ; but " resolve 
 modestly and humbly." Even the youths shall 
 faint and be weary, and the young men utterly fall ; 
 but they who wait on tlie Lord are the persons who 
 renew tlicir strength. When a soul is almost afraid 
 to declare, in the presence of the Lord, that it will 
 not do this, or that, which has formerly ofi'cnded 
 him ; when it is afraid absolutely to promise that 
 it will perform this or that duty with vigour and 
 constancy; but only expresses its humble earnest 
 desire, that it may by grace be enabled to avoid the 
 one, or pursue the other ; then, so far as my obser- 
 vation and experience have reached, it is in the best 
 way to learn the happy art of conquering tempt- 
 ations, and of discharging duty. 
 
 § 7. On the other hand, let not your dependence 
 upon this spirit, and your sense of your own weak- 
 ness and insufficiency for any thing spiritually good 
 without his continued aid, discourage you from de- 
 voting yourself to God, an.l engaging in a religious 
 life, considering " what abundant reason you have 
 to hope, that these gracious influences will be com- 
 municated to you." The light of nature, at the same 
 time that it teaches the need we have of help from 
 God, in a virtuous course, may lead us to conclude, 
 that so benevolent a Being, who bestows on the most 
 unworthy and careless part of mankind so many 
 blessings, will take a peculiar pleasure in commu- 
 nicating to such as humbly ask them, those gracious 
 assistances which may form their deathless souls 
 into his own resemblance, and fit them for that hap- 
 piness to which their rational nature is suited, and 
 for which it was in its first constitution intended. 
 The word of God will much more abundantly con- 
 firm such a hope. You there hear divine wisdom 
 crying, even to those who had long trifled with her 
 instructions, Turn ye at my reproof, and I will pour 
 out my Spirit upon you. You hear the apostle say. 
 ing. Let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 we may obtain mercj', and find grace to help in every 
 time of need. Yea, you there liear our Lord himself 
 arguing in this sweet and convincing manner : If ye 
 being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your 
 children, how much more shall your heavenly Father 
 give his Holy Spirit unto them that ask him ? This 
 gift and promise of the Spirit was given unto Christ, 
 when he ascended up on high, in trust for all his 
 true disciples. God hath shed it abundantly upon 
 us in him. And I may add, that the very desire 
 you feel after the further communication of the 
 Spirit, is the result of the first-fruits of it already 
 given : .so that you may with peculiar propriety in- 
 terpret it as a special call, to open your mouth wide, 
 that he may fill it. You thirst, and therefore you 
 may cheerfully plead that Jesus hath invited you to 
 come unto him and drink ; with a promise, not only 
 that you shall drink if you come unto him, but also, 
 that out of your belly shall flow, as it were, rivers of 
 living water for the edification and refreshment of 
 others. 
 
 § 8. Go forth, therefore, with humble cheerfulness, 
 to the prosecution of all the duties of the Christian 
 life. Go, and prosper, in the strength of the Lord, 
 making mention of his righteousness, and of his only. 
 And as a token of further communications, may 
 your heart be quickened to the most earnest desires, 
 after the blessings I have now been recommending 
 to your pursuit ! May you be stirred up to pour out 
 your soul before God in such holy breathings as 
 these ! And may they be your daily language in his 
 gracious presence ! 
 
 An humble Supplication for the influences of Divine 
 Grace, to form and strengthen religion in the soul. 
 
 " Blesskd God ! I sincerely acknowledge before 
 thee mine own weakness and insulliciency for any 
 thing that is spiritually good. I have experienced 
 it a thousand times ; and yet my foolish heart would 
 again trust itself, and form resolutions in its own 
 strength. But let this be the first-fruits of thy 
 gracious influence upon it, to bring it to a humble 
 distrust of itself, and to a repose on thee ! 
 
 " Abundantly do I rejoice, O Lord, in the kind 
 assurances which thou givcst me, of thy readiness 
 to bestow liberally and richly so great a benefit. I 
 do therefore, according to thy condescending invita- 
 tion, come with boldness to the throne of grace, 
 that I may find grace to help in every time of need. 
 I mean not, O Lord God, to turn thy grace into wan- 
 tonness or perversene.ss, or to make my weakness 
 an excuse for negligence and sloth. I confess, thou 
 hast already given me more strength than I have 
 used ; and I charge it upon myself, and not on thee, 
 that I have not long since received si ill more abun- 
 dant supplies. I desire for the future to be found 
 diligent in the use of all appointed means; in the 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 57 
 
 neglect of which I well know that petitions like 
 these would be a profane mockery, and might much 
 more probably provoke thee to take away what I 
 have, than prevail upon thee to impart more. But 
 firmly resolving to exert myself to the utmost, I ear- 
 nestly entreat the communications of thy grace, 
 that I may be enabled to fulfil that resolution. 
 
 " Be surety, O Lord, unto thy servant for good! 
 Be pleased to shed abroad thy sanctifying influences 
 on my soul, to form me for every duty thou requirest ! 
 Implant, I beseech thee, every grace and virtue 
 deep in mine heart ; and maintain the happy tem- 
 per in the midst of those assaults, from within and 
 from without, to which I am continually liable, 
 while I am still in this world, and carry about with 
 me so many infirmities ! Fill my breast, I beseech 
 thee, with good affections towards thee, my God, 
 and towards my fellow-creatures ! Remind me 
 always of thy presence ; and may I remember that 
 every secret sentiment of my soul is open to thee ! 
 May I, therefore, guard against the first risings of 
 sin, and the first approaches to it ! And that Satan 
 may not find room for his evil suggestions, I ear- 
 nestly beg thou. Lord, wouldst fill my heart by 
 thine Holy Spirit, and take up thy residence there ! 
 Dwell in me, and walk with me ; and let my body 
 be the temple of the Holy Ghost ! 
 
 " May I be so joined to Christ Jesus my Lord, as 
 to be one Spirit with him, and feel his invigorating 
 influences continually bearing me on, superior to 
 every temptation and to every corruption ! That 
 while the youths shall faint and be weary, and the 
 young men utterly fall, I may so wait upon the 
 Lord, as to renew my strength ; and may go 
 from one degree of faith, and love, and zeal, and 
 holiness, to another, till I appear jierfert before 
 thee in Zion, to drink in immortal vigour and joy 
 from thee, as the everlasting fountain of both, 
 through Jesus Christ my Lord, in whom I have 
 righteousness and strength, and to whom I desire 
 ever to ascribe the praise of all mine improvement 
 in both ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 The Christian convert warned of, and animated 
 against, those discouragements which he must ex- 
 pect to meet with, when entering on a religious 
 course. 
 
 Christ instrnctrd liiv disciples in expert opposition and difliculties 
 in tile way to ije;iven, \ I. Tlieretore, [I.] A more particular view of 
 tlicni is talic'Ti, asarisin;:, (I ) From tlie reiiiaiiKlersof iiidwellin;^; sin, 
 \ 2. (2.) From tlie world, and especially from former sintnl eoni- 
 panions, ^ 3. (3.) From the temptations and su;;t;csti()ns ()f ^atan, 
 \ 4. [II.] Tiie Christian is animated and cnconras^'d by various con- 
 siderations to oppose tliem ; particularly l»y the presence of God, tlie 
 aid-* of Christ, the example of others, wlio, thoufrh feetjle, liave con- 
 cpiered, and tile crown of glory to be expected, \ 5, 6. Therefore, 
 tliou^'h apostasy would he infinitely fatal, the Clu isl iau may press ou 
 cheerfully, \ 7. Acctirdinjily tin- son!, alarmed hy these views, is 
 represented as cop.iniilting itself to God, iu the prayer wliicli con- 
 cludes the chapter. 
 
THE RISE AN 
 
 D PROGRESS 
 
 § 1. With the utmost propriety has our Diviue 
 Master reijuiretl us, to strive to enter in at tlie strait 
 gate ; thereby, as it seems, intimating, not only 
 that the passage is narrow, but that it is beset with 
 enemies ; beset on the right hand and on the left, 
 ■with enemies cunning and formidable. And be as- 
 sured, O reader, that whatever your circumstances 
 in life are, you must meet and encounter them. It 
 M ill, therefore, be your prudence to survey them 
 attentively in your own reflections, that you may 
 see what you are to expect ; and may consider in 
 what armour it is necessary you should be clothed, 
 and with what weapons you must be furnished, to 
 manage the combat. You have often heard them 
 marshalled, as it were, under three great leaders, 
 the flesh, tlie world, and the devil ; and according 
 to this distribution, I would call you to consider 
 the forces of each, as setting themselves in array 
 against you. O that you may be excited to take to 
 yourself the whole arnjour of God, and to acquit 
 yourself like a man and a Christian ! 
 
 § 2. Let your conscience answer, whetlier you do 
 not carry about with you a corrupt and degene- 
 rate nature ? You will, I doubt not, feel its cllects. 
 A'ou will feel, in the language of the apostle, (who 
 speaks of it as the case of Christians themselves,) 
 the flesh lusting against the spirit, so that you will 
 not be able in all instances to do the things that you 
 would. You brought irregular propensities into the 
 world along with you ; and you have so often in- 
 dulged those sinful inclinations, that you have 
 greatly increased their strength ; and you will find, 
 in consequence of it, that these habits cannot be 
 broke through without great difficulty. You will, 
 no doubt, often recollect the strong figures in which 
 the prophet describes a case like yours ; and you 
 will own, that it is justly represented by that of an 
 Ethiopian changing his skin, and the leopard his spots. 
 It is indeed possible, that at first you may find such 
 an edge and eagerness upon your spirits, as may lead 
 you to imagine that all opposition will immediately 
 fall before you. But alas, I fear that in a little 
 time, these enemies, which seemed to be slain at 
 your feet, will revive, and recover their weapons, 
 and renew the assault in one fonn or another. And 
 perhaps your most painful combats may be with 
 such as you had thought most easy to be van- 
 quished, and your greatest danger may arise from 
 some of those enemies from whom you apprehended 
 the least ; particularly from pride, and from indo- 
 lence of spirit : from a secret alienation of heart 
 from God, and from an indisposition for conversing 
 with him, through an immoderate attachment to 
 things seen and temporal, which may be oftentimes 
 exceeding dangerous to your salvation, though per- 
 haps they be not absolutely and universally prohibit- 
 ed. In a thousand of these instances you must leam 
 to deny yourself, or you cannot be Christ's disciple. 
 
 § 3. You must also lay your acc^ount to find great 
 dilliculties from the world ; from its numners, cus- 
 toms, and examples. The things of the world will 
 hinder you one way, and the men of the world an- 
 other. Perhaps you may meet with much less 
 assistance in religion, than you are now ready to 
 expect from good men. The present generation of 
 them is generally so cautious to avoid every thing 
 that looks like ostentation, and there seems some- 
 thing so insupportably dreadful in the charge of 
 enthusiasm, that you will find most of your Chris- 
 tian brethren .studying to conceal their virtue and 
 their piety, much more than others study to conceal 
 their vice and their profaneness. But while, unless 
 your situation be singularly happy, you meet with 
 very little aid one way, you will no doubt find great 
 opposition another. The enemies of religion will 
 be bold and active in their assaults, while many of 
 its friends seem unconcerned ; and one sinner will 
 probably exert himself more to corrupt you, than 
 ten Christians to secure and save you. They who 
 have once been your companions in sin, will try a 
 thousand artful methods to allure you back again 
 to their forsaken society ; some of them, perhaps, 
 with an appearance of tender fondness, and many 
 more by the almost irresistil)lc art of banter and 
 ridicule. That boasted test of right and wrong, as 
 it has been wantonly called, will be tried upon you, 
 perhaps without any regard to decency, or even to 
 common humanity. You will be derided and in- 
 sulted by those whose esteem and affection you 
 naturally desire ; and may find much more propriety 
 than you imagine, in that expression of the apostle, 
 the trial of cruel mockings, which some fear more 
 than cither sword or flames. This persecution of 
 the tongue you must expect to go through, and per- 
 haps may be branded as a lunatic, for no other 
 cause than that now you begin to exercise your 
 reason to purpose, and will not join with those who 
 are destroying their own souls, in their wild career 
 of folly and madness. 
 
 §4. And it is not at all improbable, that in the mean- 
 time Satan may be doing his utmost to discourage 
 and distress you. He will, no doubt, raise in your 
 imagination the most tempting idea of the gratifica- 
 tions, the indulgences, and the companions you are 
 obliged to forsake ; and give jou the most dis- 
 couraging and terrifying view of the difficulties, se- 
 verities, and dangers, which are (as he will persuade 
 you) inseparable from religion. He will not fail to 
 represent God himself, the fountain of goodness and 
 happiness, as a hard master, whom it is impossible 
 to please. He will perhaps fill you with the most 
 distressful fears, and with cruel and insolent malice 
 glory over you as his slave, when he knows you are 
 the Lord's freeman. At one time, he will study by 
 his vile suggestions to interrupt you in your duties, 
 as if they gave him an additional power over you. 
 
OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 59 
 
 At another time he will endeavour to weary you of 
 your devotion, by influencing you to prolono^ it to 
 an immoderate and tedious length, lest his power 
 should be exerted upon you when it ceases. In 
 short, this practised deceiver has artifices which it 
 would require whole volumes to display, with par- 
 ticular cautions against each. And he will follow 
 you with malicious arts and pursuits, to the very end 
 of your pilgrimage ; and will leave no method un- 
 attempted, wliich may be likely to weaken your 
 hands and to sadden your heart ; that if, through 
 the gracious interposition of God, he cannot prevent 
 your final happiness, he may at least impair your 
 peace and your usefulness, as you are passing to it. 
 
 § 5. This is what the people of God feel : and 
 what you will feel in some degree or other, if you 
 have your lot and your portion among them. But 
 after all, be not discouraged ; Christ is the captain 
 of your salvation. It is delightful to consider him 
 under this view. When we take a survey of these 
 hosts of enemies, we may lift up our head amidst 
 them all, and say. More and greater is he that is 
 with us than all those that are against us. Trust in 
 the Lord, and you will be like mount Zion, which 
 cannot be removed, but abideth for ever. When 
 your enemies press upon you, remember you are to 
 fight in the presence of God. Endeavour therefore 
 to act a gallant and a resolute part. Endeavour to 
 resist them stedfast in the faith. Remember, he can 
 give power to the faint, and increase strength to 
 them that have no might. He hath done it in ten 
 thousand instances already ; and he will do it in 
 ten thousand more. How many striplings have 
 conquered their gigantic foes in all their most 
 formidable armour, when they have gone forth 
 against them, though but as it were with a stafi' and 
 a sUng, in the name of the Lord God of Israel ! How- 
 many women and children have trodden down the 
 force of the enemy, and out of weakness have been 
 made strong ! 
 
 § 6. Amidst all the opposition of earth and hell, 
 look upward, and look forward ; and you will feci 
 your heart animated by the view. Your General is 
 near, he is near to aid you ; he is near to reward 
 you. When you feel the temptation press the 
 hardest, think of him who endured even the cross 
 itself for your rescue. View the fortitude of your 
 divine Leader, and endeavour to march on in his 
 steps. Hearken to his voice, for he proclaims it 
 aloud, Behold I come quickly, and my reward is 
 with me. Be thou faithful unto death, and I will 
 give thee a crown of life. And O, how bright will 
 it shine ! and how long will its lustre last ! When 
 the gems that adorn the crowns of monarchs, and 
 pass (instructive thought !) from one royal head to 
 another through succeeding centuries, are melted 
 dow n in the last flame, it is a crown of glory which 
 fadcth not away. 
 
 § 7. It is indeed true, that such as turn aside to 
 crooked paths, will be led forth with the workers of 
 iniquity, to that terrible execution, which the divine 
 justice is preparing for them; and it would have 
 been better for them not to have known the way of 
 righteousness, than, after having known it, to turn 
 aside from the holy commandment. But I would, 
 by divine grace, hope better things of you. And I 
 make it my hearty prayer for you, my reader, that 
 you may be kept by the mighty power of God, kept 
 as in a garrison, on all sides fortified, in the securest 
 manner, through faith unto salvation. 
 
 The soul, alarmed hy a sense of these diffieulties, com- 
 mitt'my itself to Divine Protection. 
 
 " Blessed God, it is to thine almighty power that 
 I flee. Behold me surrounded with difliculties and 
 dangers, and stretch out thine omnipotent arm to 
 save me, O thou that savest by thy right hand 
 them that put their trust in thee, from those that rise 
 up against them. This day do I solemnly put my- 
 self under thy protection. Exert thy power in my 
 favour, and permit me to make the shadow of thy 
 wings my refuge. Let thy grace be sufficient for 
 me, and thy strength be made perfect in my weak- 
 ness. I dare not say, I will never forsake thee ; I 
 will never deny thee; but I hope I can truly 
 say, O Lord, I would not do it; and that, according 
 to my present apprehension and purpose, death would 
 appear to me much less terrible, than in any wilful 
 and deliberate instance to offend thee. Oh root out 
 those corruptions from my heart, which in an hour 
 of pressing temptation might incline me to view 
 things in a diflerent light, and so might betray me 
 into the hands of the enemy ! Strengthen my faith 
 
 0 Lord, and encourage my hope ! Inspire me with 
 an heroic resolution in opposing every thing that 
 lies in mj' way to heaven ; and let me set my face 
 like a flint, against all the assaults of earth and 
 hell ! If sinners entice me, let me not consent; if 
 they insult me, let me not regard it ; if they threaten 
 me, let me not fear ! Rather may a holy and ardent, 
 yet prudent and well-governed, zeal, take occasion 
 from that malignity of heart whic'h they tliscover, to 
 attempt their conviction and reformation. At least, 
 let me never be ashamed to plead thy cause against 
 the most profane deriders of religion. Make me to 
 hear joy and gladness in my own soul ; and I will en- 
 deavour to teach transgres.sors thy way, that sinners 
 may be converted unto thee. Yea, Lortl, while my 
 fears continue, though I should apprehend myself 
 condemned, I am condemned so righteously for my 
 own folly, that I would be thine advocate, though 
 against myself. 
 
 " Keep me, O Lord, now, and at all times ! Never 
 let me think, whatever age or station I attain, that 
 
 1 am strong enough to maintain the combat without 
 
60 THE RISE AN 
 
 thoe. Nor let me iinan:irie myself, even in this Jii- 
 faiiev of reli}?ii)n in my soul, so weak, that thou 
 canst not support me. Wherever thou leatlest me, 
 there let me follow ; and whatever station thou ap- 
 pointest me. there let me labour ; there let me main- 
 tain the holy war ascainst all the enemies of my sal- 
 vati<tM, and rattier fall in it than l)asely abandon it! 
 
 " And thou, O glorious Hedcemer, tiic Captain of 
 niy salvation, the ffreat Author and Finisher of my 
 faith, w hen I am in danu;er of denying thee, as Peter 
 did, look upon niewith that mixture of majesty and 
 tenderness, whieh may either secure me from falling, 
 or may speedily reeover me to God and my duty 
 again ! And teach me to take occasion, even from my 
 miscarriages, to Iiumblc myself more deeply for all 
 that has been amiss, and to redouble my future 
 diligence and cantion ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 The Chrlst 'tnv nryed to, and assisted in, an express 
 net of Self-dedication to the service of God. 
 
 The advantages of sucli a surrender are briefly siiirgesled, 5 1. Adviees 
 for the manner of doiri-r it ; that it be deliljerate, elieerful, entire, and 
 perpetual, 5 2 — 4. and that it be expressed witii some alftTtinj^ 
 solemnity, } 5. A written instrument to be signed and declared be- 
 fore (tod" at some season of extraordinary devotion proposed, \ G, 7. 
 Tile chapter concludes with a specimen of such an iristrument, to- 
 pether with an abstract of it, to be used with proper and requisite 
 alterations. 
 
 § 1. As I would hope, that notwithstanding all the 
 views of opposition which do or may arise, yet, in 
 consideration of those noble supports and motives 
 which have been mentioned in the two preceding 
 chapters, you are heartily determined for the service 
 of God, I would now urge you to make a solemn 
 surrender of yourself unto it. Do not only form 
 such a purpose in your heart, but expressly declare 
 it in the divine presence. Such solemnity in tlie 
 manner of doing it, is certainly very reasonable in 
 the nature of things ; and sure it is highly expedient, 
 for binding to the Lord such a treacherous heart, 
 as we know our own to be. It will be pleasant to 
 reflect upon it, as done at such and such a time, with 
 such and such eircumstanees of place and method, 
 whieh may serve to strike the memory and the con- 
 science. The sense of the vows of God which are 
 upon you, will strengthen you in an hour of temp- 
 tation ; and the recollection may also encourage 
 your humble boldness and freedom in applying to 
 him, under the character and relation of your cove- 
 nant God and Father, as future exigencies may 
 require. 
 
 § 2. Do it, therefore ; but do it deliberately. Con- 
 sider what it is that you are to do ; and consider 
 how reasonable it is tliat it sliould be done, and 
 done cordially and cheerfully ; not by constraint, 
 but willingly: for in this sense, and in every 
 other, God loves a cheerful giver. Now, surely 
 
 D PROGRESS 
 
 there is nothing we should do with greater cheer- 
 fulness, or moie cordial consent, than making such 
 a surrender of ourselves to the Lord ; to the God 
 who created us, who brought us into this pleasant 
 and well-furnished world, who supported us in our 
 tender infancy, who guarded us in the thoughtless 
 days of childhood and youth, who hashithcito con- 
 tinually helped, sustained, and i)rcscrved us. No- 
 thing can be more reasonal)le, than that we should 
 acknowledge him as our rightful Owner and our 
 sovereign Ruler ; than that we should devote our- 
 selves to him as our most gracious Benefactor, and 
 seek him as our supreme felicity. Nothing can be 
 more apparently equitable, than that we, the pro- 
 duct of his power, and the price of his Son's blood, 
 should be his, and his for ever. If you see the 
 matter in its just view, it will be the grief of 
 your soul, that you have ever alienated yourself 
 from the blessed God and his service ; so far will 
 you be from wishing to continue in that state of 
 alienation another year, or another day. You will 
 rejoice to bring back to him his revolted creature ; 
 and, as you have in times past yielded your mem- 
 bers as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin, 
 you will delight to yield yourselves unto God, as 
 alive from tlie dead, and to employ your members 
 as instruments of righteousness unto God. 
 
 § .3. The surrender will also be as entire as it is 
 cheerful and immediate. All you are, and all you 
 have, and all you can do, your time, your posses- 
 sions, your influence over others, will be devoted to 
 him, that for the future it may be employed entirely 
 for him, and to his glory. You will desire to keep 
 back nothing from him ; but will seriously judge, 
 that you are then in the truest and noblest sense 
 your own, when you arc most entirely his. You are 
 also, on this great occasion, to resign all that you 
 have to the disposal of his wise and gracious pro- 
 vidence ; not only owning his power, but consent- 
 ing to his undoubted right, to do what he pleases 
 with you, and all that he has given you, and de- 
 claring a hearty approbation of all that he has done, 
 and of all that he may further do. 
 
 § 4. Once more, let me remind you, that this sur- 
 render must be perpetual. You must give yourself 
 up to God in such a manner, as never more to pre- 
 tend to be your own, for the rights of God are, like 
 his nature, eternal and immutable ; and with regard 
 to his rational creatures, are the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and for ever. 
 
 § f). I would further advise and urge, that this 
 dedication may be made with all possible solem- 
 nity. Do it in express words. And, perhaps, it 
 may be in many cases most expedient, as many 
 pious divines have reeoinuicnded, to do it in writing. 
 Sal your hand and seal to it, that on such a day of 
 such a month and year, and at such a place, on full 
 consideration, and serious reflection, you came to 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 this happy resolution, that whatever others might 
 do, jou would serve the Lord. 
 
 ^ 6. Such an instrument you may, if you please, 
 draw up for yourself : or, if you rather choose to 
 have it drawn up to your hand, you may find some- 
 thing of this nature below, in which you may easily 
 make such alterations as shall suit your circum- 
 stances, where there is any thing peculiar in them. 
 But whatever you use, weigh it well, meditate at- 
 tentively upon it, that you may not be rash with 
 your mouth to utter any thing before God. And 
 when you determine to execute this instrument, let 
 the transaction be attended with some more than 
 ordinary religious retirement. Make it, if you con- 
 veniently can, a day of secretfasting and prayer; and 
 when your heart is prepared with a becoming awe 
 of the Divine Majesty, with a humble confidence 
 in his goodness, and an earnest desire of his favour, 
 then present yourself on your knees before God, 
 and read it over deliberately and solemnly ; and 
 when you have signed it, lay it by in some secure 
 place, where you may review it whenever you 
 please ; and make it a rule with yourself, to review 
 it, if possible, at certain seasons of the year, that 
 you may keep up the remembrance of it. 
 
 § 7. At least, take this course, till you see your 
 way clear to the table of the Lord, where you are to 
 renew the same covenant, and to seal it, with more 
 affecting solemnities. And God grant, that you 
 may be enabled to keep it, and in tlie whole of your 
 conversation to walk according to it ! May it be an 
 anchor to your soul in every temptation, and a cor- 
 dial to it in every affliction ! May the recollection 
 of it imbolden your addresses to the throne of grace 
 now, and give additional strength to your departing 
 spirit, in a consciousness that it is ascending to 
 your covenant God and Father, and to that gracious 
 Redeemer whose power and faithfulness will se- 
 curely keep what you commit to him until that day. 
 
 An example of Self-dedication, or a solemn form of 
 renewiny our covenant with God. 
 
 " Eternal and unchangeable Jehovah ! thou great 
 Creator of heaven and earth, and adorable Lord of 
 angels and men ! I desire with the deepest humi- 
 liation and abasement of soul, to fall down at this 
 time in thine awful presence; and earnestly pray, 
 that thou wilt penetrate my very heart with a suit- 
 able sense of thine unutterable and inconceivable 
 glories ! 
 
 " Trembling may justly take hold upon me, when 
 I, a sinful worm, presume to lift up my head to thee, 
 presume to appear in thy majestic presence on such 
 an occasion as this. Who am I, O Lord Gf^jl, or 
 what is my house ? What is my nature or descent, 
 my character and de.sert, that I should speak of 
 this, and desire that I may be one party in a cove- 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 61 
 
 nant, where thou, the King of kings, and the Lord 
 of lords, art the other ! I blush and am confounded, 
 even to mention it before thee. But, O Lord, great 
 as is thy majesty, so also is thy mercy. If thou wilt 
 hold converse with any of thy creatures, thy super- 
 latively exalted nature must stoop, must stoop in- 
 finitely low. And I know, that in and through 
 Jesus, the Son of thy love, thou condescendest to 
 visit sinful mortals, and to allow their approach to 
 thee, and their covenant intercourse with thee ; nay, 
 I know, that the scheme and plan is thine own ; 
 and that thou hast graciously sent to propose it to 
 us ; as none untaught by thee would have been able 
 to form it, or inclined to embrace it even when 
 actually proposed. 
 
 " To thee, therefore, do I now come, invited by 
 the name of thy Son, and trusting in his righteousness 
 and grace. Laying myself at thy feet with shame 
 and confusion of face, and smiting upon my breast, 
 I say with the humble publican, God be merciful to 
 me a sinner ! I acknowledge, O Lord, that I have 
 been a great transgressor. My sins have reached 
 unto heaven, and mine iniquities are lifted up unto 
 the skies. The irregular propensities of my cor- 
 rupted and degenerate nature have, in ten thousand 
 aggravated instances, wrought to bring forth fruit 
 unto death. And if thou shouldst be strict to mark 
 mine olFences, I must be silent under a load of 
 guilt, and immediately sink into destruction. But 
 tliou hast graciously called me to return unto thee, 
 though I have been a wandeiing sheep, a prodigal 
 son, a backsliding child. Behold, therefore, O 
 Lord, I come unto thee. I come, convinced not 
 only of my sin, but of my folly. I come, from my 
 very heart ashame<l of myself, and with an acknow- 
 ledgment, in the sincerity and humility of my soul, 
 that I have played the fool, and have erred exceed- 
 ingly. I am confounded myself at the remembrance 
 of these things ; but be thou merciful to my unright- 
 eousness, and do not remember against mc my sins 
 and my transgressions ! Permit me, O Lord, to 
 bring back unto thee those powers and faculties 
 which I have ungratefully and sacrilegiously alien- 
 ated from thy service ; and receive, I beseech thee, 
 thy poor revolted creature, who is now convinced 
 of thy right to him, and desires nothing in the 
 whole world so much as to be thine ! 
 
 " Blessed God, it is with the utmost solemnity 
 that I make this surrender of myself unto thee. 
 Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth ; I avouch 
 the Lord this day to be my God ; and I avouch and 
 declare myself this day to be one of his covenant 
 children and people. Hear, O thou God of heaven, 
 and record it in the book of thy remembrance, that 
 iienceforth I am thine, entirely thine. I would not 
 merely consecrate unto thee some of my powers, or 
 some of my possessions ; or give thee a certain pro- 
 portion of my services, or all I am capable of for a 
 
62 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 limitod time; but I would be wliolly lliiuc, ami 
 thine for ever. From tliis day, do I solomnly lo- 
 iiounee all the former lords which have had do- 
 minion over me, every sin and everj' lust ; and bid 
 in thy nnme an eternal defiance to the powers of 
 hell, which have most unjustly usurped the emi)ire 
 over my soul, and to all the c()rrii|>tions w hich their 
 fatal temptations have introduced into it. Tiic 
 whole frame of my nature, all the faculties of my 
 mind, and all the members of my body, would I 
 present before thee this day, as a livin"; saerilice, 
 holy and acceptable unto God, which I know to be 
 my most reasonable service. To thee I consecrate 
 all my worldly possessions ; in thy service I desire 
 to spend all the remainder of my time upon earth, 
 and hcg thou wouldst instruct and influence me, so 
 that whether my abode here be lona;er or siiorter, 
 every year and month, every day and hour, may be 
 used in such a manner as shall most elfectiiaily 
 promote thy honour, and subserve tiic schemes of 
 thy wise and irracious providence. And I earnestly 
 pray, that whatever influence thou givest me over 
 others, in any of the superior relations of life in 
 v\'hich I may stand, or in consequence of any pecu- 
 liar regard which maybe paid to me; thou wouldst 
 give me strength and courage to exert myself to the 
 utmost for thy glory ; resolving, not only that I will 
 myself do it, but that all others, so far as I can 
 rationally and properly influence them, shall serve 
 the Lord. In this course, O blessed God, would I 
 steadily persevere to the very end of my life ; ear- 
 nestly praying, that every future day of it may sup- 
 ply the deficiencies, and correct the irregularities, 
 of the former ; and that I may, by divine grace, be 
 enabled, not only to bold on in that happy way, but 
 daily to grow more active in it ! 
 
 " Nor do I only consecrate all that I am, and 
 have, to thy service ; but I also most humbly re- 
 sign, and submit to thy holy and sovereign will, 
 myself, and all that I can call mine. I leave, O 
 Lord, to thy management and direction all I possess, 
 and all I wish ; and set every enjoyment, and every 
 interest, before thee, to be disposed of as thou 
 pleasest. Continue, or remove, what thou hast given 
 me ; bestow, or refuse, what I imagine I want, as 
 thou Lord shalt see good. And though I dare not 
 say, I will never repine ; yet I hope I may venture 
 to say, that I w ill labour, not only to submit, but to 
 acquiesce; not only to bear what thou dost in thy 
 most afllictive dispensations, but to consent to it, 
 and to praise thee for it ; contentedly resolving, in 
 all that thou appointest for me, my will into thine, 
 and looking on myself as nothing, and on thee, O 
 God, as the great etetnal All, whose word ought to 
 determine every thing, and whose government 
 ought to be the joy of the whole rational creation. 
 
 " Use me, O Lord, 1 beseech thee, as the instru- 
 ment of thy glory, and lionour mc so far, as, either 
 
 by doing or sufl'cring what thou shall appoint, to 
 bring some revenue of praise to thee, and of benefit 
 to the world in which I dwell ! And may it please 
 thee, from this day forward, to number me among- 
 thy peculiar people, that I may no more be a 
 stranger and foreigner, l)ut a fellow-citizen with 
 tlie saints, and of the household of God ! Receive, 
 
 0 heavenly Father, thy returning prodigal ! Wash 
 me in the blood of thy dear Son ; clothe me with 
 his ])erfect righteousness ; and sanctify mc through- 
 out by the power of thy Spirit ! Destroy, I beseech 
 thee, more and more the power of sin in my heart ! 
 Transform me more into thine own image, and fashion 
 me to the resemblance of Jesus, whom heneefortli 
 
 1 would acknowledge as my teacher and sacri- 
 fice, my intercessor and my Lord ! Communicate 
 to me, I beseech thee, all needful innuences of thy 
 purifying, thy cheering, and thy comforting Spirit; 
 and lift up that light of thy eountenanc^e upon me, 
 which will put the sublimest joy and gladness into 
 my soul. 
 
 " Dispose my affairs, O God, in a manner which 
 may be most subservient to thy glory and my own 
 truest happiness ; and when I have done and borne 
 thy will upon earth, call me from hence, at what 
 time, and in what manner, thou pleasest. Only 
 grant, that in my dying moments, and in the near 
 prospects of eternity, I may remember these my en- 
 gagements to thee, and may employ my latest breath 
 in thy service ! And do thou, Lord, when thou seest 
 the agonies of dissolving nature upon me, remem- 
 ber this covenant too, even though I should then be 
 incapable of recollecting it ! Look down, O my 
 heavenly Father, with a pitying eye upon thy lan- 
 guishing, thy dying, child ; place thine everlasting 
 arms underneath me for my support ; put strength 
 and confidence into my departing spirit ; and re- 
 ceive it to the embraces of thine everlasting love! 
 Welcome it to the abodes of them that sleep in Jesus, 
 to wait with them that glorious day, when the last 
 of thy promises to thy covenant people shall be ful- 
 filled in their triumphant resurrection, and that 
 abundant entrance, which shall be administered to 
 them into that everlasting kingdom, of which thou 
 hast assured them by thy covenant, and in the hope 
 of which I now lay hold on it, desiring to live and 
 to die, as with my hand on that hope ! 
 
 " And when I am thus numbered among the 
 dead, and all the interests of mortality are over with 
 me for ever, if this solemn memorial should chance 
 to fall into the hands of any surviving friends, may 
 it be the means of making serious impressions on 
 their minds! May they read it, not only as my lan- 
 guage, but as their own ; and learn to fear the Lord 
 my (Jod, and w ith me to put their trust under the 
 shadow of his wings for time and for eternity ! And 
 may they also learn to adore with me that grace, 
 which inclines our hearts to enter into the covenant, 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 and condescends to admit us into it when so in- 
 clined ; ascribing- with me, and with all the nations 
 of the redeemed, to the Father, the Son, and the 
 Holy Ghost, that glory, honour, and praise, which 
 is so justlj- due to each divine person for the part 
 he bears in this illustrious work ! Amen." 
 
 N. B. — For tlie sake of tiiose who may think the preceding form of 
 self-dedication too lon;^ to be transcribed, (;is it is probable many 
 will,) I have, at the desire of a much esteemed friend, added tlie follow- 
 ing abridgment of it, wliich should by ail means be attentively weigh- 
 ed in every clause before it is executed ; and any word or phrase 
 which may seem liable to exception changed, that the whole heart 
 may consent to it all. 
 
 " Eternal and e\er-blessed God ! I desire to present 
 myself before thee, with the deepest humiliation 
 and abasement of soul ; sensible how unworthy 
 such a sinful worm is to appear before the holy 
 Majest}' of heaven, the King of kings, and Lord of 
 lords, and especially on such an occasion as this, 
 even to enter into a covenant transaction with thee. 
 But the scheme and plan is thine own. Thine in- 
 finite condescension hath offered it by thy Son, and 
 thy grace hath inclined my heart to accept of it. 
 
 " I come, therefore, acknowledging myself to have 
 been a great offender ; smiting on my breast, and 
 saying, with the humble publican, God be merciful 
 to me a sinner ! I come, invited by the name of thy 
 Son, and wholly trusting in his perfect righteous- 
 ness ; entreating, that for his sake thou wilt be 
 merciful to my unrighteousness, and wilt no more 
 remember my sins. Receive, I beseech, thee, thy 
 revolted creature, who is now convinced of thy right 
 to him, and desires nothing so much as that he may 
 be thine ! 
 
 " This day do I, with the utmost solemnity, sur- 
 render myself to thee. I renounce all former lords 
 that have had dominion over me ; and I consecrate 
 to thee all that I am, and all that I have ; the facul- 
 ties of my mind, the members of my body, my 
 worldly possessions, my time, and my influence over 
 others ; to be all used entirely for thy glory, and 
 resolutely employed in obedience to thy commands, 
 as long as thou continuest me in life ; with an ardent 
 desire and humble resolution to continue thine 
 through all the endless ages of eternity : ever hold- 
 ing myself in an attentive posture to observe the 
 first intimations of thy will, and ready to spring 
 forward witli zeal and joy to the immediate execu- 
 tion of it. 
 
 " To thy direction also I resign myself, and all I 
 am and have, to be disposed of by thee in .such a 
 manner, as thou shalt in thine infinite v. isdom judge 
 most subservient to the purposes of thy glory. To 
 thee I leave the management of all events, and say, 
 without reserve. Not my will, but thine be done ; 
 rejoicing with a loyal heart in thine unlimited 
 government, as what ought to be the delight of the 
 rational creation. 
 
 " Use mc, O Lord, I beseech thee, as an inetru- 
 
 IN THE SOUL. G3 
 
 ment for thy service ! Number me among thy 
 peculiar people ! Let mc be washed in the blood 
 of thy dear Son ! Let me be clothed with his right- 
 eousness! Let me be sanctified by his Spirit ! Trans- 
 form me more and more into his image ! Impart 
 to me, through him, all needful influences of thy 
 purifying, cheering, and comforting Spirit ! And 
 let my life be spent under those influences, and in 
 the light of thy gracious countenance, as my Father 
 and my God ! 
 
 " And when the solemn hour of death comes, may 
 I remember this thy covenant, well ordered in all 
 things and sure, as all my salvation and all my desire, 
 though every other hope and enjoyment is perish- 
 ing ! And do thou, O Lord, remember it too ! Look 
 down with pity, O my heavenly Father, on thy lan- 
 guishing dying child ! Embrace me in thine ever- 
 lasting arms ! Put strength and confidence into my 
 departing spirit ! and receive it to the abodes of 
 them that sleep in Jesus, peacefully and joyfully to 
 wait the accomplishment of thy great promise to all 
 thy people, even that of a glorious resurrection, and 
 of eternal happiness in thy heavenly presence ! 
 And if any surviving friend should, when I am in 
 the dust, meet with this memorial of mj' solemn trans- 
 actions with thee, may he make tlie engagement 
 his own ; and do thou graciously admit him to par- 
 take in all the blessings of thy covenant, through 
 .Jesus, the great Mediator of it ; to whom, with thee, 
 O Father, and thy Holy Spirit, be everlasting 
 praises ascribed, by all the millions who are thus 
 saved by thee, and by all those other celestial spirits, 
 in whose work and blessedness thou shalt call them 
 to share ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Of entering into Church-communion hi/ an attendance 
 upon the Lord's Supper. 
 
 The reader, being already supposed to have entered into cov(tt»ant with 
 God, ^ I. is urged publicly to .seal that cn;;agenu'nt at the table of the 
 Lord, 5 2. f I .) From a view of the ends for which that ordin-incc was 
 instituted, \ 3. whence its usefulness is strongly inferred, J 4. And 
 (2.) From the authority of Christ's appointment ; which is solemnly 
 pressed on the conscience, \ 5. Objections from apprehensions of 
 unAtnes-s, \ 6. Weakness of grace, (ice. briefly answered, 5 7. At 
 least, serious thoughtfuIne«s on the subject is absolutely insisted upon, 
 5 8. The chapter is closed with a prayer for one wuo desires to at. 
 tend, yet finds himself pressed with remaining doubts. 
 
 §1.1 HOPE this chapter will find you, by a most 
 express consent, become one of God's covenant 
 peo|)le, solcnmly and cordially devoted to his ser- 
 vice ; and it is my hearty prayer, tliat the covenant 
 you have made on earth may be ratified in heaven. 
 But for your further instruction and edification give 
 mc leave to remind you, that our Lord .Jesus ('hrist 
 hath appointed a peculiar manner of expressing 
 our regard to him, and of solemnly renewing our 
 covenant with him ; which, though it tloes not for- 
 
64 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 bid any other proper way of doiiis; it, imist by no 
 means be set usiile, or nesleeted, lor any liuinan 
 nietliods, how prudent and expedient soever they 
 may appear to us. 
 
 § 2. Our Lord has wisely ordained, that the ad- 
 vantasres of soeiety should be brought into religion ; 
 and as by his eommund professing; Ciiristians as- 
 semble toirether for otlier aets of public worship, so 
 he has been jileased to institute a social ordinance, 
 in which a whole assembly of them is to eometo bis 
 table, and there to eat the same bread, and drink 
 the same cup. And tliis they are to do, as a token 
 of their aflectionate remembrance of his dying love, 
 of their solemn surrender of themselves to God, 
 and of their sincere love to one another, and to all 
 their fellow Christians. 
 
 § 3. That these are indeed the great ends of the 
 Lord's supper, I shall not now stay to argue at 
 large. You need only read what the apostle Paul 
 has written in the tenth and eleventh chapters of 
 his first epistle to the Corinthians, to convince you 
 fully of this. He there expressly tells us, that our 
 Lord commanded the bread to be eaten, and the 
 wine to be drunk, in remembrance of him, or as a 
 commemoration or memorial of him ; so that as often 
 as we attend this institution, we show forth our 
 Lord's death, which we are to do even till he come. 
 And it is particularly asserted, that the cup is the 
 new testament in his blood ; that is, it is a seal of 
 that covenant which was ratified by his blood. Now 
 it is evident, that, in consequence of this, we are to 
 approach it with a view to that covenant, desiring 
 its blessings, and resolving by divine grace to 
 comply with its demands. On the whole, therefore, 
 as the apostle speaks, we have communion in the 
 body and the blood of Christ ; and partaking of his 
 table and of his cup, we converse with Clirist, and 
 join ourselves to him as his people: as the heathens 
 in their idolatrous rites, had communion with their 
 deities, and joined themselves to them ; and the 
 Jews, by eating their sacrifices, conversed with 
 Jehovah, and joined themselves to him. He further 
 reminds them, that, though many, they were one 
 bread and one body, being all partakers of that one 
 bread, and being all made to drink into one 
 Spirit 1 that is, meeting together as if they were 
 but one family, and joining in the commemoration 
 of that one blood which was their common ransom, 
 and of the Lord Jesus, their common head. Now it 
 is evident, all these reasonings are equally appli- 
 cable to Christians in succeeding ages. Permit me 
 therefore, by the authority of our divine Master, to 
 press upon you the observation of this precept. 
 
 ^ 4. And let me also urge it, from the apparent 
 tendency which it has to promote your truest ad- 
 vantage. You are setting out in the Ciiristian life ; 
 and I have reminded you at large of the opposition 
 you must expect to meet with in it. It is the love 
 
 of Christ which must animate you to break through 
 all. W hat then can be more desirable, than to bear 
 about with you a lively sense of it? and what can 
 awaken that sense more, than the contemplation of 
 his <lcath as there represented; Who can behold the 
 bread broken, and the wine poured out, and not 
 rellect, how the body of the blessed Jesus was even 
 torn in pieces by liis sufferings, and his sacred blood 
 poured forth like water on the ground ; Wlio can 
 think of tlie heart-rending agonies of the Son of 
 God, as the price of our rcdemi)tion and salvation, 
 and not feel his soul melted with tenderness, and 
 inflamed with grateful affection ! What an exalted 
 view doth it give us of the blessings of the gospel- 
 covenant, when we consider it as established in the 
 blood of God's only-begotten Son ! And when we 
 make our approach to God as our heavenly Father, 
 and give up ourselves to his service in this soleum 
 manner, what an awful tendency has it to fix the 
 conviction, that we are not our own, being bought 
 witli such a price! What a tendency has it to guard 
 tis against every temptation to those sins which we 
 have so solemnly renounced, and to engage our 
 fidelity to him to whom we have bound our souls as 
 with an oath! Well may our hearts be knit togetlier 
 in mutual love, when we consider ourselves as one 
 in Christ: his blood becomes the cement of the 
 societ}', joins us in Spirit, not only to each other, 
 but to all that in everj' place call upon the name of 
 Jesus Christ our Lord, both theirs and ours : and 
 we anticipate, in pleasing hope, that blessed day, 
 when the assembly shall be complete, and we shall 
 all be for ever with the Lord. Well may these 
 views engage us to deny ourselves, and to take up 
 our cross to follow our crucified Master. Well may 
 they engage us to do our utmost, by prayer and all 
 other suitable endeavours, to sei-ve his followers 
 and his friends; to serve those whom he hath pur- 
 chased with his blood, and who are to be his as- 
 sociates, and ours, in the glories of a happy immor- 
 tality. 
 
 § 5. It is also the express institution and command 
 of our blessed Redeemer, that the members of such 
 societies should be tenderly solicitous for the 
 spiritual welfare of each other; and that, on the 
 whole, his churches may be kept pure and holy ; 
 that they should withdraw themselves from every 
 brother that walkcth disorderly ; that they should 
 mark such as cause offences or scandals amongst 
 them, contrary to the doctrine which they have 
 learned, and avoid them ; that if any obey not the 
 word of Christ, by his apostles, they should have no 
 fellowship or communion with sueh, that they may 
 be ashamed ; that they should not eat with such as 
 are notoriously irregular in their behaviour, but, on 
 the contrary, should put away from among them- 
 selves such wicked persons. It is evident, therefore, 
 that the institution of sueh societies is greatly for 
 
OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 the honour of Christianity, and for the" advantage 
 of its particular professors. And consequently, 
 every consideration of obedience to our common 
 Lord, and of prudent regard to our own benefit and 
 that of our brethren, will require, that those who 
 love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, should enter 
 into them and assemble among; them, in these their 
 most solemn and peculiar acts of communion at his 
 table. 
 
 § 6. I entreat you therefore, and if I may pre- 
 sume to say it, in his name and by his authority I 
 charge it on your conscience, that this precept of 
 our dying Lord go not, as it were, for nothing with 
 you ; but that, if you indeed love him, you keep 
 this, as well as the rest of his commandments. — I 
 know, you may be ready to foim objections. I 
 have elsewhere debated many of the chief of them 
 at large, and I hope not without some good effect.^ 
 The great question is that which relates to your 
 being prepared for a worthy attendance. And in 
 conjunction with what has been said before, I think 
 that may be brought to a very short issue. Have 
 you, so far as jou know your own heart, been sin- 
 cere in that deliberate surrender of yourself to God, 
 through Christ, which I recommended in the former 
 chapter ? If you have, (whether it were with, or 
 without, the particular form or manner of doing it 
 there recommended,) you have certainly taken hold 
 of the covenant, and therefore have a right to the 
 seal of it. And there is not, and cannot be, any 
 other view of the ordinance in which you can have 
 any further objection to it. If you desire to re- 
 member Christ's death, if you desire to renew the 
 dedication of yourself to God through him, if you 
 would list yourself among his people, if jou would 
 love them and do them good according to your 
 ability, and, on the whole, would not allow your- 
 self in the practice of any one known sin, or in the 
 omission of any one known duty, then I will venture 
 confidently to say, not only that you may be wel- 
 come .to the ordinance, but that it was instituted 
 for such as you. 
 
 § 7. As for other objections, a few words may 
 sulTice by way of reply. The weakness of the reli- 
 gious principle in your soul, if it be really implant- 
 ed there, is so far from being an argument against 
 your seeking such a method to strengthen it, that it 
 
 rather strongly enforces the necessity of doing it. 
 
 The neglect of this solemnity, by so many that call 
 themselves Christians, .should rather engage you so 
 much the more to distinguish your zeal for an in- 
 stitution, in this respect so much slighted and in- 
 jured. — And as for the fears of aggravaiing guilt 
 in case of apostasy, do not indulge them. This 
 may, by the divine blessing, be an edectual remedy 
 against the evil you fear; and it is certain, that 
 
 • See the fourth of my Sermons to Young Persons. 
 F 
 
 after what you must already have known and felt, 
 before you could be brought into your present 
 situation, (on the suppositions I have now been 
 making,) there can be no room to think of a retreat ; 
 no room even for the wretched hope of being less 
 miserable than the generality of those that have 
 perished. Your scheme tlierefore must be to make 
 your salvation as sure, and to make it as glorious, 
 as possible. And I know not any appointment of 
 our blessed Redeemer, which may have a more 
 comfortable aspect upon that blessed end, than this 
 which I am recommending to you. 
 
 § 8. One thing I would at least insist upon, and 
 I see not with what face it can be denied. I mean, 
 that you should take this matter into a serious con- 
 sideration; that you should diligently inquire, 
 whether you have reason, in j our conscience, to 
 believe it is the will of God you should now ap- 
 proach to the ordinance, or not? And that you 
 should continue your reflections, your inquiries, 
 and your prayers, till you find further encourage- 
 ment to come ; if that encouragement be hitherto 
 wanting. For of this be assured, that a state in 
 which you are on the whole unfit to approach this 
 ordinance, is a state in which you are destitute of 
 the necessary preparations for death and heaven ; 
 in which therefore, if you would not allow your- 
 selves to slumber on the brink of destruction, you 
 ought not to rest so much as one single day. 
 
 A Prayer for one who earnestly desires to approach 
 the table of the Lord, yet has some remaining 
 doubts concerning his right to that solemn ordi- 
 nance. 
 
 "Blessed Lord, I adore thy wise and gracious 
 appointments, for the edification of thy church in 
 holiness and in love. I thank thee, that thou hast 
 commanded thy servants to form themselves into 
 societies ; and I adore my gracious Saviour, who 
 hath instituted, as with his dying breath, the holy 
 .solemnity of his supper, to be through all ages a 
 memorial of his dying love, and a bond of that union 
 which it is his .sovereign pleasure that his people 
 should preserve. I hope thou. Lord, art witness to 
 the sincerity with which I desire to give myself up 
 to thee ; and that I may call thee to record on my 
 .soul, that if I now hesitate about this particular 
 manner of doing it, it is not because I would allow 
 myself to break any of thy commands, or to slight 
 any of thy favours. I trust, thou knowest that my 
 present delay arises only from my uncertainty as to 
 my own duty, and a fear of profaning holy tilings by 
 an unworthy approach to them. Yet surely, O Lord, 
 if thou hast given me a reverence for thy command, 
 a desire of communion with thee, and a willingness 
 to devote myself wholly to thy service, I may re- 
 gard it as a token for good, that thou art disposed to 
 
66 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 receive ine, and tliat I am' not wliolly un(|iialilie(l 
 fur an urdinani-e wliieli I so highly honour, and so 
 earnestly desire. I therefore make it my humble 
 request unto thee, O Lord, this day, that thou 
 woiildst a;raciously be pleased to instruct me in my 
 duty, and to teach me the way tiiat 1 should take ! 
 Examine me, O Lord, and prove uie ; try my reins 
 and my heart! Is there any secret sin, in the love 
 and practice of which I would indul-^e .' Is there 
 any of thy precepts, in the liabitual breach of which 
 I would allow myself ? I trust 1 can appeal to thee 
 as a witness, that there is not. Let me not then 
 wrona: mine own soul by a causeless and sinful ab- 
 sence from thy sacred table ! But gfrant, O Lord, I 
 beseech thee, that thy Mord, thy providence, and 
 thy Spirit, may so concur as to make my way plain 
 before me!. Scatter my remaining doubts, if thou 
 seest they have no just foundation ! Fill me with a 
 more assured faith, with a more ardent love ; and 
 plead thine own cause with my heart in such a man- 
 ner, as that I may not be able any longer to delay 
 that approach, which, if I am thy servant indeed, is 
 equally my duty and mj' privilege ! In the mean 
 time, grant that it may never be long out of my 
 thoughts ; but that I may give all diligence, if there 
 be any remaining occasion of doubt, to remove it, 
 by a more affectionate concern to avoid whatever is 
 displeasing to the eyes of thine holiness, and to 
 practise the full extent of my duty ! May the views 
 of Christ crucified be so familiar to my mind, and 
 may a sense of his dying love so powerfully con- 
 strain my soul, that my own growing experience 
 may put it out of all question that I am one of those 
 for whom he intended this feast of love ! 
 
 " And even now, as joined to thy churches in 
 spirit and in love, thougli not in so express and in- 
 timate a bond as I could wish, would I heartily 
 pray that thy blessing may be on all thy people : 
 that thou wouldst feed thine heritage, and lift them 
 up for ever! May every Christian society flourish 
 in knowledge, in holiness, and in love! May all 
 thy priests be clothed with salvation, that by their 
 means thy chosen people may be made joyful I 
 And may there be a glorious accession to thy 
 churches every where, of those who may fly to them 
 as a cloud ; and as doves to their windows ! May 
 thy table, O Lord, be furnished with guests ; and 
 may all those that love thy salvation say. Let the Lord 
 be magnified, who hath pleasure in the prosperity of 
 his servants ! And I earnestly pray, that all «ho 
 profess to have received Christ Jesus the Lord, may 
 be duly careful to walk in him ; and that we may 
 all be preparing for the general assembly of the 
 first-born, and may join in that nobler and more 
 immediate worship, where all these types and 
 shadows shall be laid aside, where even these me- 
 morials shall be no longer necessary ; but a living, 
 present Redeemer shall be the everlasting joy of 
 
 those, who here in his absence have delighted to 
 commemorate his death ! Amen." * 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Some more particular Directions forniaintaiiiiiif/ con- 
 tinual Communion witli God, or being in his fear 
 all tin fl'H) long. 
 
 A letter to a jiintis friend <iii this siihieet introduced here, ^ I. A gene- 
 r.il ]ilan ot^ direetimis, } 2. [I ] For the beuinninp; of the d:iy, { .'(. 
 (I.) I.iftini; np the heart to Gud at our first awiikeninji', J ■!. (2.) 
 Settin;;- ourselves to the secret devotions of the morning- ; with 
 respect to whicli partlenlar advices arc Kiveii, } 5 — 10. [II.] I'or the 
 progress of the day, i! II. Directions are {fiieu concerniuff, (1.) 
 Seriousness in devotion, } 12. (2.) Dihuence in husiness, 5 l.'j. (3.) 
 Prudence in recreations, \ 14. (4.) Observations of Providence, } 15. 
 (.').) Wateliflllness .nuaiust temptations, { Ifi. (fi.) Dependence on 
 divine inHuence, \ 17. (7 ) Government of the tiiou^lits when in 
 soMtiute, 5 18. (S.) Mana^'eniejit of discwirsc in company, } 1!>, 
 [III.] For the conclusion of the day, } 21). (1.) With the sciret 
 devotions of tlie evenin;^, 5 21. Directions for self-examination at 
 lar^re, { 22, 23. (2.) Lying down with a proper temper, } 24. Con. 
 elusion of the letter, 5 25. and of the chapter, } 2*j. With a serious 
 view of death, proper to he taken at the close of the day. 
 
 §1.1 WOULD hope that, upon serious consideration, 
 self-examination, and prayer, the reader may by 
 this time be come to a resolution to attend the table 
 of the Lord, and to seal his vows there. I will now 
 suppose that solemn transaction to be over, or some 
 other deliberate act to have passed, by wliich he 
 has given himself up to the service of God, and 
 that his concern now is to in(|uirc, how he may act 
 according to the vows of God which are upon him. 
 Now, for his further assistance here, besides the 
 general view I have already given of the Christian 
 temper and character, I will propose some more 
 particular directions relating to maintaining that 
 devout, spiritual, and heavenly character, which 
 may, in the language of Scripture, be called a 
 daily walking with God, or being in his fear all 
 tlie day long. And I know not how I can express 
 the idea and plan, which I have formed of this, in 
 a more clear and distinct manner, than I did in a 
 letter, which I wrote many years ago,t to a young 
 person of eminent piety, with whom I had then an 
 intimate fricndsliip ; and who, to tlie great grief of all 
 that knew him, died a few montlis after lie received 
 it. Yet I hope he lived long enough to lediieo the 
 directions into practice, which I wish and pray 
 that every reader may do, so far as they may pro- 
 perly suit his capacities and circumstances in life, 
 considering it as if addressed to himself. I say, and ' 
 desire it may be observed, that I wish my reader may 
 
 * 1 purposed to have adilcd somethius: here, concerning: a reu:nlar 
 approach to the Lord's tahle, a proper attendance upon it, and suitable 
 retlect ions after it: but I find this work swell under my haiui beyond 
 what I at first expected ; ami, therefore, as these articles have been 
 handled by so many valuable writers, I choose to refer to them, and par- 
 ticularly to Dr. Karle's Sacramental Kxereises, and Mr. Grove's Devo- 
 tional Exercises relating to the I-ord's Supper; books wliich I think 
 remarkably excellent in their kind, and which may be had at very 
 ea.sy rates. Vet, for the further assistance of devout communicants, I 
 have some thou»hls of publishing a small volmne of Sacramental Me. 
 dilations on select Texts of Scripture, if God spare me to finish tny 
 Exposition on the New Testament, and some other [lieccs which I 
 have now in hand. 
 
 + Tl was in the year 1727. 
 
OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 07 
 
 act on these directions so far as tUcy may properly 
 suit his capacities and circumstances in life ; for I 
 would be far from laying down the following par- 
 ticulars as universal rules for all, or for any one 
 person in the world at all times. Let them be prac- 
 tised bj' those that arc able, and when they have 
 leisure : and when you cannot reach them all, come 
 as near the most important of them as you conve- 
 niently can. With this precaution I proceed to the 
 letter, which I would hope, after this previous care 
 to guard against the danger of mistaking it, will 
 not discourage any, even the weakest Christian. Let 
 us humbly and cheerfully do our best, and rejoice 
 that we have so gracious a Father, who knows all 
 our infirmities, and so compassionate a High 
 Priest, to recommend to divine acceptance the 
 feeblest efforts of sincere duty and love ! 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 Since you desire my thoughts in writing, and at 
 large, on the subject of our late conversation, viz. 
 By what particular methods in our daily conduct a 
 life of devotion and usefulness may be most happily 
 maintained and secured ? I set myself, with cheer- 
 fulness, to recollect and digest the hints which I 
 then gave you ; hoping it may be of some serv ice 
 to you in your most important interests ; and may 
 also fix on my own mind a deeper sense of my obli- 
 gations, to govern ray own life bj' the rules I offer 
 to others. I esteem attempts of this kind among 
 the pleasantest fruits, and the surest cements, of 
 friendship ; and as I hope ours will last for ever, I 
 am persuaded a mutual care to clicrish sentiments 
 of this kind, will add everlasting endearments to it. 
 
 § 2. The directions you will expect from me on 
 this occasion, naturally divide themselves into three 
 heads : How we are to regard God, — in the begin- 
 ning, — the progress, — and the close of the day. I 
 will open my heart freely to you with regard to 
 each, and will leave you to judge, how far these 
 hints may suit your circumstances : aiming, at 
 least, to keep between the extremes, of a supersti- 
 tious strictness in trifles, and of an indolent remiss- 
 ness, which, if admitted in little things, may draw 
 after it criminal neglects, and at length more 
 criminal indulgences. 
 
 § .3. [I.] In the beginning of the day ; it should 
 certainly be our care to lift up our hearts to God 
 as soon as we wake, and while we are rising ; 
 and then, to set ourselves seriously and immediately 
 to the secret devotions of the morning. 
 
 § 4. For the first of these, it seems exceedingly 
 natural. There are so many tilings that may sug- 
 gest a great variety of pious reflections and ejacu- 
 lations, which are so obvious, that one would think 
 a serious mind could hardly miss them. The ease 
 and cheerfulness of our mind at our first awaken- 
 P 2 
 
 ing ; the refreshment we fintl from sleep ; the secu- 
 rity we have enjoyed in that defenceless state ; the 
 provision of warm and decent apparel ; the cheerful 
 light of the returning sun ; or even (which is not 
 unfit to mention to you) the contrivances of art, 
 taught and furnished by the great Author of all our 
 conveniences, to supply us with many useful hours 
 of life in the absence of the sun ; the hope of re- 
 turning to the dear society of our friends ; the 
 prospect of spending another day in the service of 
 God, and the improvement of our own minds ; and 
 above all, the lively hope of a joyful resurrection to 
 an eternal day of happiness and glory : any of these 
 particulars, and many more which I do not mention, 
 may furnish us with matter of pleasing reflection 
 and cheerful praise while we are rising. And for 
 our furtlier assistance, when we are alone at this 
 time, it may not be improper to speak sometimes to 
 ourselves, and sometimes to our heavenly Father, 
 in the natural expressions of joy and thankfulness. 
 Permit me. Sir, to add, that if we find our hearts 
 in such a frame at our first awakening, even that is 
 just matter of praise, and the rather, as perhaps it 
 is an answer to the prayer with which we lay down. 
 
 § 5. For the exercise of secret devotion in the 
 morning, which I hope will generally be our first 
 work, I cannot prescribe an exact method to 
 another. You must, my dear friend, consult your 
 own taste in some measure. The constituent parts 
 of the seiTice are in the general plan. Were I to 
 propose a particular model for those who have half, 
 or three quarters, of an hour at command, (« hich 
 with prudent conduct I suppose most may have,) it 
 should be this : 
 
 § 6. To begin the stated devotions of the day 
 with a solemn act of praise, ollered to God on our 
 knees, and generally with a low, yet distinct, voice ; 
 acknowledging the mercies we had been refiecting 
 on while rising: never forgetting to mention 
 Christ, as the great foundation of all our enjoy- 
 ments and our hopes, or to return thanks for fhe 
 infiuenee.s of the blessed Spirit, which have led our 
 hearts to God, or are then engaging us to seek him. 
 This, as well another offices of devotion afterwards 
 mentioned, must be done attentively and sincerely ; 
 for not to ofi'er our praises heartily, is, in the sight 
 of God, not to praise him at all. This address of 
 praise may properly be concluded with an express 
 renewal of our covenant with God, declaring our 
 continued repeated resolutions of being devoted to 
 him, and particularly of living to his glory the 
 ensuing day. 
 
 § 7. It may be proper, after this, to take a i)ios- 
 pect of the day before us, so far as we can probably 
 foresee in the general, where and how it may be 
 spent; and .seriously to reflect, how sliall I employ 
 my.self for God this day f What business is to be 
 done, and in what order ; What opportunities may 
 
68 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 1 oxiioct, I'itluM- of (loiiig or of recciviiis;' fjood .' 
 What tfinptalions am I like to be assaulted with, in 
 any plaee, eonipany. or circiunstaiices, which may 
 probahly occur? In what instances have 1 lately 
 failed ? And how shall I be safest no« .' 
 
 § 8. After this review, it would be proper to oflcr 
 up a short prayer, bcs^ijins that God would (luiekeii 
 us to each of these foreseen duties; that he would 
 fortify us a<cainst each of these ai)prehendeil 
 dansters ; that he would fjranl us success in sucii or 
 such a business undertaken for his g;lory ; and also, 
 that he would help us to discover and improve un- 
 foreseen opportunities, to resist unexpected tempt- 
 ations, and to bear patiently, and reliajiously, any 
 afflictions which may surprise us in the day on 
 which we are enterin;;-. 
 
 ^ 9. I would advise you after tliis, to read some 
 portion of Scripture ; not a great deal, nor the 
 whole Bible in its course, but some select lessons 
 out of its most useful parts, perhaps ten or twelve 
 verses ; not troubling? yourself much about the ex- 
 act connexion, or other critical niceties, which 
 may occur, (though at other times I would recom- 
 mend them to your inquiry, as you have ability and 
 opportunity,) but considering them merely in a 
 devotional and practical view. Here take such 
 instructions as readily present themselves to your 
 thoughts, repeat them over to your own conscience, 
 and charge your heart religiously to observe them 
 and act upon them, under a sense of the divine 
 authority which attends them. And if you pray 
 over the substance of this scripture with your Bible 
 open before you, it may impress your memory and 
 your heart yet more deeply, and may form you to a 
 copiousness and variety, both of thought and ex- 
 pression, in prayer. 
 
 § 10. It might be proper to close these devotions 
 with a psalm or hynni; and I rejoice witli you, that 
 through the pious care of Dr. Watts, and some 
 other sacred poets, we are provided with so rich a 
 variety for the assistance of the closet and family 
 on these occasions, as well as for the service of the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 § 11. [11.] The most material directions which 
 have occurred to me, relating to the progress of the 
 day, are these : — That we be serious in the devotions 
 of the day ; — that we be diligent in the business of 
 it, that is, in the prosecution of our worldly call- 
 ings ; that we be temperate and prudent in the re- 
 creations of it ; — that we carefully remark the pro- 
 vidences of the day ; — that we cautiously guard 
 again.st the temptations of it ; — that we keep up a 
 humble and lively dependence upon the divine in- 
 fluence, suitable to every emergency of it ; — that we 
 govern our thoughts well in the solitude of the 
 day, and our discourses well in the conversations 
 of it. These, Sir, were the heads of a sermon 
 which you lately heard me preach on this occasion, 
 
 and to which I know you referred in that request 
 which I am now endeavouring to answer. I will 
 therefore touch upon the most material hints which 
 fell under each of these particulars. 
 
 § 12. (1.) For seriousness in devotion, whether 
 public or domestic : Let us take a few moments, be- 
 fore we enter upon such solemnities, to i)ausc, and 
 to rellect, on the perfections of tlie God we are ad- 
 dressing, on the importance of the business we are 
 coming about, on the pleasure and advantage of a 
 regular and devout attendance, and on the guilt and 
 folly of a hypocritical formality. When engaged, 
 let us maintain a strict watchfulness over our own 
 spirits, and check the first wanderings of thought. 
 And when the duty is over, let us immediately re- 
 llect on the manner in which it has been performed, 
 and ask our own consciences whether we have rea- 
 son to conclude, that we are accepted of (Jod in it? 
 For there is a certain manner of going through these 
 ollkes, which our own hearts will immediately tell 
 us, it is impossible for God to approve : and if we 
 have inaOvf/'tently fallen into it, we ought to be 
 deeply humbled before God for it, lest our very 
 prayer become sin. 
 
 § 13. (2.) As for the hours of worldly business; 
 whether it be, as with you, that of the hands ; or 
 whether it be the labour of a learned life, not im- 
 mediately relating to religious matters : Let us set to 
 the prosecution of it with a sense of God's authority, 
 and with a regard to his glory. Let us avoid a 
 dreaming, sluggish, indolent temper, which nods 
 over its work, and does only the business of one 
 hour in two or three. In opposition to this, which 
 runs through the life of some people, who yet think 
 they are never idle, let us endeavour to despatch as 
 much as we well can in a little time ; considering, 
 that it is but a little we have in all. And let us be 
 habitually sensible of the need we have of the 
 divine blessing, to make our labours successful. 
 
 § 14. (3.) For seasons of diversion : Let us take 
 care, that our recreations be well chosen ; that they 
 be pursued with a good intention, to fit us for a re- 
 newed application to the labours of life ; and thus, 
 that they be only used in subordination to the honour 
 of God, the great end of all our actions. Let us 
 take heed, that our hearts be not estranged from 
 God by them ; and that they do not take up too 
 much of our time : always remembering, that the 
 faculties of the human nature, and the advantages 
 of the Christian revelation, were not given us in 
 vain ; but that we are always to be in pursuit of 
 some great and honourable end, and to indulge our- 
 selves in amusements and diversions no further, 
 than as they make a part in a scheme of rational 
 and manly, benevolent and pious, conduct. 
 
 § 15. (4.) For the observation of providences : It 
 will be useful to regard the divine interposition, in 
 our comforts, and in our afflictions. In our com- 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 forts, whether more common or extraordinary : that 
 we find ourselves in continued health; tliat we are 
 furnished with food for support and pleasure ; that 
 ■we have so many agreeable ways of employing- our 
 time ; that we have so many friends, and those so 
 good, and so happy ; that our business goes on 
 prosperously ; that we go out and come in safely ; 
 and that we enjoy composure and cheerfulness of 
 spirit, without which nothing else could be enjoyed : 
 all these should be regarded as providential favours, 
 and due acknowledgments should be made to God 
 on these accounts, as we pass through such agree- 
 able scenes. On the other hand, Providence is to be 
 regarded in every disappointment, in every loss, in 
 every pain, in every instance of unkindness from 
 those who have professed friendship : and we should 
 endeavour to argue ourselves into a patient sub- 
 mission, from this consideration, that the hand of 
 God is always mediately, if not immediately, in each 
 of them ; and that, if they are not properly the work 
 of Providence, they are at least under its direction. 
 It is a reflection, which we should particularly make 
 with relation to those little cross accidents, (as we 
 are ready to call them,) and those infirmities and 
 follies in the temper and conduct of our intimate 
 friends, which may else be ready to discompose us. 
 And it is the more necessary to guard our minds 
 here, as wise and good men often lose tlie command 
 of themselves on these comparatively little occasions ; 
 who, calling up reason and religion to their assist- 
 ance, stand the shock of great calamities with for- 
 titude and resolution. 
 
 § 16. (5.) For watchfulness against temptations : 
 It is necessary, when changing our place, or our 
 employment, to reflect, " What snares attend me 
 here ?" And as this should be our habitual care, so 
 we should especially guard against those snares 
 which in the morning we foresaw. And when we 
 are entering on those circumstances in which wc 
 expected the assault, wc should reflect, especially 
 if it be a matter of great importance, " Now the 
 combat is going to begin ; now God and the blessed 
 angels are observing, what constancy, what forti- 
 tude, there is in my soul ; and how far the divine 
 authority, and the remembrance of my own prayers, 
 and resolutions, will weigh with me, when it comes 
 to a trial. 
 
 § 17. (6.) As for dependence on divine grace and 
 influence: It must be universal; and since we 
 always need it, we must never forget that necessity. 
 A moment spent in humble fervent breathings after 
 the communications of the divine assistance, may 
 do more good than many minutes spent in mere 
 reasonings. And though indeed this should not be 
 neglected, since the light of reason is a kind of di- 
 vine illumination ; yet, still it ought to be pursued 
 in a due sense of our dependence upon the Father of 
 lights, or, where we think ourselves wisest, we may 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 69 
 
 become vain in our imaginations. Let us therefore 
 always call upon God ; and say, for instance, when 
 we are going to pray, " Lord, fix my attention ! 
 awaken my holy affections, and pour out upon me 
 the spirit of grace and of supplication !" When 
 taking up the Bible, or any other good book, " Open 
 thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things 
 out of thy law ! Enlighten my understanding ! 
 Warm my heart ! May my good resolutions be con- 
 firmed, and all the course of my life iu a proper 
 manner regulated !" When addressing ourselves to 
 any worldly business, " Lord, prosper thou the work 
 of my hands upon me, and give thy blessing to my 
 honest endeavours !" When going to any kind of 
 recreation, " Lord, bless my refreshments! Let me 
 not forget thee in them, but still keep thy glory in 
 view !" When coming into company, " Lord, may I 
 do and get good ! Let no corrupt communication 
 proceed out of my mouth, but that which is good to 
 the use of edifying, that it may minister grace to 
 the hearers !" When entering upon difficulties, 
 " Lord, give me that wisdom which is profitable to 
 direct ! Teach me thy way, and lead me in a plain 
 path !" When encountering with temptations," Let 
 thy strength, O gracious Redeemer, be made per- 
 fect in my w eakness !" These instances may illus- 
 trate the design of this direction, though they be 
 far from a complete enumeration of all the circum- 
 stances in which it is to be regarde.l. 
 
 § 18. (7.) For the government of our thoughts in 
 solitude, let us accustom ourselves on all occasions 
 to exercise a due command over our thoughts. Let 
 us take care of those entanglements of passion, and 
 those attachments to any present interest and view, 
 which would deprive us of our power over them. 
 Let us set before us some profitable subject of 
 thought ; such as, the perfections of the blessed 
 God, the love of Christ, the value of time, the cer- 
 tainty and importance of death and judgment, and 
 the eternity of happiness or misery which is to fol- 
 low. Let us also at such intervals reflect on what 
 we have observed as to the state of our own souls, 
 witli regard to the advance or decline of religion ; 
 or on the last sermon we have heard, or the last por- 
 tion of Scripture we have read. You nuty peihaps, 
 in this connexion. Sir, recollect what I have (if I 
 remember right) proposed to you in conversation ; 
 that it might be very useful to select some one verse 
 of Scripture, which we had met with in the morning, 
 and to treasure it up in our mind, resolving to think 
 of that at any time when we are at a loss for matter 
 of pious rcHcction, in any intervals of leisure for 
 entering upon it. This will often be as a sjjring, 
 from whence many profitable and delightful thoughts 
 may arise, which peihaps wc did not before sec in 
 that connexion and force. Or if it should not be 
 so, yet I am persuaded it will be much better to 
 repeat the same Scripture in our mind a hundred 
 
70 
 
 THK RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 times in a day. with some pious cjnculatioii t'oiiiuMl 
 upon it, thiui to loitvo our tlioii'ihts at tUv nu icv of 
 all those various Irilles wliich may otiicrwise intrude 
 upon us : the variety of whieh will be far from 
 making: amends for their vanity. 
 
 § li). (8.) Lastly, for the fjovernment of our dis- 
 course in company : We should take ^reat care, that 
 nothius; may escape us, which can expose us, or our 
 Christian profession, to censure and re])roacli ; 
 nothing; injurious to those that are absent, or to those 
 that are present ; nothinp; malignant, notliinf; insin- 
 cere, nothinj? which may corrupt, nothing which 
 may provoke, nothing which may mislead those 
 about us. Nor should we, by any means, be con- 
 tent, that what we say is innocent ; it should be our 
 desire, tliat it may be edifying to ourselves and 
 others. In this view, we should endeavour to have 
 some subject of useful discourse always ready, in 
 which we may be assisted by the hints given, about 
 furniture for thought, under the former head. We 
 should w atch for decent opportunities of introducing 
 useful reflections ; and if a pious friend attempt to 
 do it, w'e should endeavour to second it immediately. 
 When the conversation does not turn directly on 
 religious subjects, we should endeavour to make it 
 improving some other way : we should redcct on 
 the character and capacities of our company, that 
 we may lead tliem to talk of what they understand 
 best ; for their discourses on those subjects w ill 
 probably be most pleasing to themselves, as well as 
 most useful to us. And in pauses of discourse, it 
 may not be improper to lift up a holy ejaculation 
 to God, that his grace may assist us and our friends 
 in our endeavours to do good to each other; that all 
 we say and do may be worthy the character of rea- 
 sonable creatures and Christians. 
 
 §20. [III.] The directions for a religious closing 
 of the day, which I shall here mention, are only 
 two. — Let us see to it, that the secret duties of the 
 evening be well performed ; — and let us lie down on 
 our beds in a pious frame. 
 
 §21. (1.) For secret devotion in the evening, I 
 w^ould propose a method something different from 
 that in the morning ; but still, as then, with due 
 allowances for circumstances, which may make un- 
 thought-of alterations proper. I should. Sir, advise 
 you to read a portion of Scripture in the first place, 
 with suitable reflections, and prayers, as above: 
 then to read a hymn or psalm : after this to enter on 
 self-examination, to be followed by a longer prayer 
 than that which followed reading, to be formed on 
 this review of this day. In this address to the throne 
 of grace, it Avill be highly proper to entreat that God 
 would pardon the omissions and offences of the day ; 
 to praise him for mercies temporal and spiritual ; to 
 recommend ourselves to his protection for the en- 
 suing night; with proper petitions for others, whom 
 we ought to bear on our hearts before him ; and 
 
 particularly for those friends with whom we have 
 conversed or corresponded in the preceding day. 
 Many other concerns will occur, both in morning 
 and evening prayer, which I have not here hinted 
 at; but I did not apprehend that a full enumer- 
 ation of these tilings belonged, by any means, to 
 our present purpose. 
 
 § 22. IJefore I quit this head, I must take the 
 liberty to remind you, that self-examination is so 
 important a duty, tliat it will be worth our while to 
 spend a few words upon it. And this branch of it 
 is so easy, that when we have proper questions 
 before us, any person of a common understanding 
 may hope to go through it with advantage, under the 
 divine blessing. I offer you therefore the following 
 queries, which I hope you will, with suuh alterations 
 as you may judge requisite, keep near you for daily 
 use : — " Did I awake as with God this morning, and 
 rise with a grateful sense of his goodness ? How 
 were the secret devotions of the morning performed .' 
 Did I oiler my solemn praises, and renew the dedi- 
 cation of myself to God, with becoming attention 
 and suitable affections ? Did I lay my scheme for 
 the business of the day wisely and well? How did 
 I read the Scripture, and any other devotional or 
 practical piece, which I might afterwards con- 
 veniently review? Did it do my heart good, or was 
 it a mere amusement ? How have the other stated 
 devotions of the day been attended, whether in the 
 family or in public? Have I pursued the common 
 business of this day with diligence and spirituality ; 
 doing every thing in season, and with all convenient 
 despatch, and as unto the Lord ? What time have I 
 lost this day, in the morning or the forenoon, in the 
 afternoon, or the evening ;" (for these divisions will 
 assist your recollection ;) " and what has occasioned 
 the loss of it? With what temper, and under what 
 regulations, have the recreations of this day been 
 pursued ? Have I seen the hand of God in my 
 mercies, health, cheerfulness, food, clothing, books, 
 preservation in journeys, success of business, con- 
 versation, and kindness of friends, &c. ? Have I 
 seen it in afflictions, and particularly in little things 
 which had a tendency to vex and disquiet me ? 
 And with regard to this interposition, have I received 
 my comforts thankfully, and my afflictions submis- 
 sively ? How have I guarded against the tempt- 
 ations of the day, particularly against this or that 
 temptation, which I foresaw in the morning ? Have 
 I maintained a humble dependence on divine in- 
 fluences ? Have I lived by faith in the Son of God, 
 and regarded Christ, this day, as my teacher and 
 governor, my atonement and intercessor, my ex- 
 ample and guardian, my strength and forerunner ? 
 Have I been looking forward to death and eternity 
 this day, and considered myself as a probationer 
 for heaven, and through grace an expectant of it? 
 Have I governed my thoughts well, especially in 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 such or such an interval of solitude. How was my 
 subject of thought this day chosen, and how was it 
 regarded ? Have I governed my discourses well in 
 such and such company ? Did I say nothing pas- 
 sionate, mischievous, slanderous, imprudent, im- 
 pertinent ? Has my heart this day been full of love 
 to God, and to all mankind ; and have I sought, 
 and found, and improved, opportunities of doing 
 and of getting good ? With what attention and im- 
 provement have I read the Scripture this evening ? 
 How was self-examination performed the last night ! 
 and how have I profited this day by any remarks I 
 then made on former negligences and mistakes '. 
 With what temper did I then lie down and compose 
 myself to sleep .'" 
 
 § 23. You will easily see. Sir, that these questions 
 are so adjusted, as to be an abridgment of the most 
 material advices I have given in this letter, and I 
 believe I need not, to a person of your understand- 
 ing, say any thing as to the usefulness of such 
 inquiries. Conscience will answer them in a few 
 minutes ; but if you think them too large and par- 
 ticular, you may make a still shorter abstract for 
 daily use, and reserve these, with such obvious alter- 
 ations as will then be necessary, for seasons of 
 more than ordinary exactness in review, which I 
 hope will occur at least once a week. Secret devo- 
 tion being thus performed, before drowsiness ren- 
 der us unfit for it, the interval between that and 
 our going to rest, must be conducted by the rules 
 mentioned under the next head. And nothing will 
 further remain to be considered here, but, 
 
 § 24. (2.) The sentiments with which we should 
 lie down, and compose ourselves to sleep. Now 
 here it is obviously suitable to think of the divine 
 goodness, in adding another day, and the mercies of 
 it, to the former days and mercies of our life ; to 
 take notice of the indulgence of Providence, in 
 giving us commodious habitations and easy beds, 
 and continuing to us such health of body, that we 
 can lay ourselves down at ease upon them, and such 
 serenity of mind as leaves us any room to hope for 
 refreshing sleep: a refreshment to be sought, not 
 merely as an in<lulgencc to animal nature, but as 
 what our wise Creator, in order to keep us humble 
 in the midst of so many infirmities, has been pleased 
 to make necessary to our being able to pursue his 
 service with renewed alacrity. Thus may our sleep- 
 ing, as well as our waking, hours, be in some sense 
 devoted to God. And wlien we are just going to 
 resign ourselves to the image of death, (to what one 
 of the ancients beautifully calls its lesser mysteries,) 
 it is also evidently proper to think seriously of (hat 
 end of all the living, and to renew those actings of 
 repentance and faith which we should judge neces- 
 sary if we were to wake no more here. You have 
 once. Sir, seen a meditation of that kind in my 
 hand ; I will transcribe it for you in the postscript : 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 71 
 
 and therefore shall add no more to this head, but 
 here put a close to the directions you desire. 
 
 § 25. I am persuaded tlie most important of them 
 have, in one form or anotiier, been long regarded by 
 you, and made governing maxims of your life. I 
 shall greatly rejoice, if the review of these, and the 
 examination and trial of the rest, may be the means 
 of leading you into more intimate communion w ith 
 God, and so of rendering your life more pleasant 
 and useful, and your eternity, whenever that is to 
 commence, more glorious. There is not a human 
 creature upon earth whom I should not delight to 
 serve in these important interests ; but I can faith- 
 fully assure you, that I am with particular respect. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your very affectionate Friend and Servant. 
 
 § 26. This, reader, with the alteration of a very 
 few words, is the letter I wrote to a worthy friend, 
 (now, I doubt not, with God,) about sixteen years 
 ago. And I can assuredly say, that the experience 
 of each of these years has confirmed me in these 
 views, and established me in the persuasion, that 
 one day thus spent is preferable to whole years of 
 sensuality, and the neglect of religion. I chose to 
 insert the letter as it is, because I thought the free- 
 dom and particularity of the advice I had given in 
 it, would appear most natural in its original form; 
 and as I propose to enforce these advices in the 
 next chapter, I shall conclude this with that medi- 
 tation which I promised my friend as a postscript ; 
 and which I could wish you to make so familiar to 
 yourself, as that you might be able to recollect the 
 substance of it, whenever you compose yourself to 
 sleep. 
 
 A so'ioiis view of death, proper to be tahen as we lie 
 doicii on our beds. 
 
 "Oh my soul, look forward a little with seriousness 
 and attention, and learn wisdom by the consider- 
 ation of thy latter end. Anollicr of thy mortal days 
 is now numbered and finished : and as I have put 
 off my clotiies, and laid myself upon my bed, for 
 the repose of the night ; so will the day of life 
 quickly come to its period, so must the body itself 
 be put off, and laid to its repose in a bed of dust. 
 There let it rest ; for it will be no more regarded by 
 me, than the clothes which I have now laid aside. 
 I have another far more important concern to at- 
 tend. Think, oh my soul, when death comes, thou 
 art to enter upon the eternal world, and to be fixed 
 either in heaven or in hell. All the schemes and 
 cares, the hopes and fears, the pleasures and sor- 
 rows, of life, will come to their period, and the 
 world of spirits will open upon thee. And oh, how 
 soon may it open! Perhaps before the returning 
 sun bring on the light of another day. To-morrow's 
 
72 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 stin may not oiilishtcii mine eyes, but only sliine 
 round a senseless eoi pse, wliieli may lie in the i>laee 
 of tliis animated body. At least, the deatli of many 
 in the llower of their afjc, and many who were supe- 
 rior tome ill eapaeity, piety, and the prospeels of 
 iisefiiliiess. may loudly warn me not to depend on 
 a loMU, life, and en};a!ie me rather to wonder that 1 
 am continued here so many years, than to be sur- 
 prised if I am speedily removed. 
 
 " And now, oh my soul, answer as in the sip;ht of 
 God. art thou ready .' Art thou ready .' Is there no 
 sin unforsaken, and so unrepented of, to fill me with 
 anjiuish in my departin<y moments, and to make me 
 tremble on the brink of eternity ? Dread to remain 
 under the fjuilt of it, and this moment renew thy 
 most earnest applieations to the mercy of God, and 
 the blood of a I'edeemer, for deliverance from it. 
 
 " But if the ^re<it account be already adjusted, 
 if thou hast cordially repented of thy numerous 
 offences, if thou hast sincerely committed thyself 
 by faith into the hands of the blessed Jesus, and 
 hast not renounced thy covenant with him by re- 
 tiirninii to tiie allowi d |)ractiee of sin, then start not 
 at tiie tliousjiits of a separation : it is not in the 
 power of death to hurt a soul devoted to God, and 
 united to the ^reat Redeemer. It may take me 
 from my worldly comforts ; it may disconcert and 
 break my schemes for service on earth ; but, oh my 
 soul, diviner entertainments, and nobler services, 
 wait thee beyond the grave. For ever blessed be 
 the name of God, and the love of Jesus, for these 
 quieting, encouragina;, joyful views! I will now 
 lay me down in peace, and sleep ; free from the 
 fears of what shall be the issue of this night, whe- 
 ther life or death be appointed for me. Father, 
 into thine hands I commend my spirit ; for tliou 
 hast redeemed me, O God of truth, and therefore I 
 can cheerfully refer it to thy choice, whether I shall 
 awake in this world or another." 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 A serious persuasive to such a method of spending 
 our ddifs, as is represented in the former chapter. 
 
 Christians fix tlieir views too low, and iiiduli;c too indolent a disposi. 
 lion, which iniikes it more necessary to nrj^e such a lite, astliat under 
 consideration, \ 1, 2. It is thcrcf«)re enforced, (I.) From its hein;^ 
 apparently reasonable, cottsiderin]s: <)urselves as tin* creatures of Gt)d, 
 and as redeemed l)y tiie blood of Clirist, 5 3. (2.) From its evident 
 tendency to conduce to our comfort in life, \ 4. (3.) From the in- 
 tlnence it will have to promote our usefulness to others, ^ .5. (4.) 
 From its efficacy to make afHirtions Iii',liter, C. (5.) From its liappy 
 aspect on death, \ 7. And, (ti.) On eternity, } 8. Whereas not to 
 desire imjirovement would arfjue a s()ul destitute of relit;ion, ^9. A 
 ]irayer suited to the state of a soul, who longs to attain the life 
 recommended above. 
 
 §1.1 HAVE been assigning, in the preceding chap- 
 ter, ^^ hat I fear will seem to some of my readers so 
 hard a task, that they will want courage to attempt 
 it ; and indeed it is a life in many respects so far 
 
 above that of (he generality of Christians, that I am 
 not without api)rehensions, that many, who deserve 
 the name, may think the directions, after all the 
 precautions witii which I have proposed them, are 
 carried to an unnecessary degree of nicety and 
 strictness. Jiiit I am persuaded, much of the credit 
 and comfort of ('liristianity is lost, in consequence 
 of its professors (ixiiig their aims too low, and not 
 conceiving of their high and holy calling in so 
 elevated and sublime a view, as the nature of 
 religion would require, and the word of God would 
 direct. I am fully convinced, that the expressions 
 of walking with God, of being in the fear of the 
 Lord all the day long, and, above all, that of loving 
 the Lord our (Jod with all our heart, and soul, and 
 mind, and strength, must require, if not all these 
 circumstances, yet the substance of all that 1 have 
 been recommending, so far as we have capacity, 
 leisure, and opportunity ; and I cannot but think, 
 that many might command more of the latter, and 
 perhaps improve their capacities too, if they would 
 take a due care in tiie government of themselves ; 
 if they would give up vain and unnecessary diver- 
 sions, and certain indulgences which only suit and 
 delight the lower part of our nature, and (to say the 
 best of them) deprive us of pleasures much better 
 than themselves, if they do not plunge us into guilt. 
 Many of these rules would appear easily practica- 
 ble, if men would learn to know the value of time, 
 and particularly to redeem it from unnecessary 
 sleep, which wastes many golden hours of the day ; 
 hours in which many of God's servants are delight- 
 ing themselves in him, and drinking in full draughts 
 of the water of life, while these their brethren are 
 slumbering upon their beds, and lost in vain dreams, 
 as far below the common entertainments of a 
 rational creature, as the pleasures of the sublimest 
 devotion are above them. 
 
 § 2. I know likewise, that the mind is very fickle 
 andineonstant ; and that itisa hard thingto preserve 
 such a government and authority over our thoughts 
 as would be very desirable, and as the plan I have 
 laid down will require. But so much of the honour 
 of God, and so much of your true happiness, 
 depends upon it, that I beg you will give me a 
 patient and attentive hearing while I am pleading 
 with you, and that you will seriously examine the 
 arguments, and then judge, whether a care and con- 
 duct like that which I have advised, be not in itself 
 reasonable ; and whether it will not be highly con- 
 ducive to your comfort and usefulness in life, your 
 peace in death, and the advancement and increase 
 of your eternal glory. 
 
 § 3. Let conscience say, whether such a life as I 
 have described above be not in itself highly reason- 
 able. Look over the substance of it again, and 
 bring it under a close examination ; for I am very 
 apprehensive, that some weak objections may arise 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 against the whole, which may, in their consequences, 
 affect particulars against which no reasonable man 
 would presume to make any objection at all. Re- 
 collect, O Christian, and carry it with you in your 
 memory and your heart, while you arc pursuing 
 this review, that you are the creature of God, that 
 you are purchased with the blood of Jesus; and 
 then say, whether these relations in which you 
 stand, do not demand all that application and reso- 
 lution which I would engage you to. Suppose all 
 the counsels I have given reduced into practice ; 
 suppose every day begun and concluded with such 
 devout breathings after God, and such holy retire- 
 ments for morning and evening converse with him 
 and with your own heart ; suppose a daily care, in 
 contriving how your time may be managed, and in 
 reflecting how it has been employed : suppose this 
 regard to God, this sense of his presence, and zeal 
 for his glory, to run through your acts of worship, 
 your hours of business and recreation : suppose this 
 attention to Providence, this guard against temp- 
 tations, this dependence upon divine influence, 
 this government of the thoughts in solitude, and of 
 the discourses in company: nay, I will add further, 
 suppose every particular direction given to be pur- 
 sued, excepting when particular cases occur, with 
 respect to which you shall be able in conscience to 
 say — I wave it, not from indolence and carelessness, 
 but because I think it will be just now more 
 pleasing to God to be doing something else, which 
 may often happen in human life, where general 
 rules are best concerted : suppose, I say, all this to 
 be done, not for a day or a week, but through the 
 remainder of life, whether longer or shorter ; and 
 suppose this to be reviewed at the close of life, in 
 the full exercise of your rational faculties ; wUl 
 there be reason to say in the reflection, I have taken 
 too much pains in religion ; the Author of my being 
 did not deserve all this from me ; less diligence, less 
 fidelity, less zeal than this, might have been an 
 equivalent for the blood which was shed for my 
 redemption. A part of my heart, a part of my 
 time, a part of my labours, might have sufliced for 
 him, who hath given me all my powers ; for him 
 who hath delivered me from that destruction which 
 would iiave made thcni my everlasting torment ; for 
 him who is raising me to the regions of a blissful 
 immortality. Can you, with any face, say this .' If 
 you cannot, then surely your conscience bears wit- 
 ness, that all I have recommended under the limit- 
 ations above, is reasonable ; that duty and grati- 
 tude require it; and, consc<|ucntly, that by every 
 allowed failure in it, you bring guilt upon your 
 own soul, you offend God, and act unworthy your 
 Christian profession. 
 
 § 4. I entreat you further to consider, whether 
 such a <;ondurt as I have now been recommending, 
 would not conduce much to your comfort and usc- 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 73 
 
 fulness in life. Reflect seriously, what is true hap- 
 piness ? Does it consist in distance from God, or in 
 nearness to him .' Surely you cannot be a Christian, 
 surely you cannot be a rational man, if you doubt, 
 whether communion with the great Father of our 
 spirits be a pleasure and felicity ; and if it be, then 
 surely they enjoy most of it who keep him most 
 constantly in view. You cannot but know in your 
 own conscience, that it is this which makes the happi- 
 ness of heaven ; and therefore the more of it any man 
 enjoys upon earth, the more of heaven comes down 
 into his soul. If you have made any trial of reli- 
 gion, though it be but a few months or weeks since 
 you first became acquainted with it, you must be 
 some judge of it upon your own experience, which 
 have been the most pleasant days of your life. 
 Have they not been those, in which you have acted 
 most upon these principles ; those in which you 
 have most steadily and resolutely carried them 
 through every hour of time, and every circumstance 
 of life ? The check which you must in many in- 
 stances give to your own inclinations might seem 
 disagreeable ; but it would surely be overbalanced 
 in a most happy manner, by the satisfaction you 
 would find in a consciousness of self-government ; 
 in having sucli a command of your thoughts, afi'ec- 
 tions, and actions, as is much more glorious than 
 any authority over others can be. 
 
 § 5. I would also entreat you to consider the in- 
 fluence, which such a conduct as this might have 
 upon the happiness of others. And it is easy to be 
 seen it must be very great ; as you would find your 
 heart always disposed to watch every opportunity of 
 doing good, and to seize it with eagerness and de- 
 light. It would engage you to make it the study 
 and business of your life, to order things in such a 
 manner, that the end of one kind and useful action 
 might be the beginning of another; in vvhi(;h you 
 would go on as naturally, as the inferior animals do 
 in those productions and actions by which mankind 
 are relieved or enriched ; or as the earth bears her 
 successive crops of diflerent vegetable supplies. 
 And though mankind be, in this corrupt state, so 
 unhajjpily inclined to imitate evil examples rather 
 than good ; yet it may be expected, that while your 
 light shines before men, some seeing your good 
 works, will endeavour to transcribe them in their 
 own lives, and so to glorify your Fatiier which is in 
 heaven. The charm of such beautiful models would 
 surely impress some, and incline them at least to 
 attempt an imitation ; and every attempt would dis- 
 pose to another. And thus, through the divine 
 goodness, you might be entitled to a share in the 
 praise, and the reward, not only of the good you 
 had iuimcdiately done yourself, but likewise of that 
 which you had engaged others to do. And no eye, 
 but that of an all-searching God, can see into what 
 distant times or places the blessed consequences 
 
74 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 may reach. In every instance in which tlicse con- 
 sequences appear, it will put a j?encrous and sub- 
 lime joy into your heart, which no worldly pros- 
 perity could alVord, and which would be the liveliest 
 emblem of that hi« h deli<;-ht which the blessed God 
 feels, in secin<; and making; his creatures happy. 
 
 § 6. It is true indeed, that, amidst all these pious 
 ant\ benevolent cares, alllietions may come, and in 
 some measure interrir])t you in the midst of your 
 projected schemes. lJut surely these alllietions will 
 sit much lig;liter, when your heart is gladdened with 
 the peaceful and joyful reflection of your own 
 mind, and with so honourable a testimony of con- 
 science before God and man. Delijihtful will it be, 
 to^go back to past scenes in your pleasing review, 
 and to think, that you have not only been sincerely 
 humbling yourself for those past oll'ences, whicli 
 alllietions may bring to your remembrance; but that 
 you have given substantial proofs of the sincerity 
 of that humiliation, by a real reformation of what 
 has been amiss, and by acting with strenuous and 
 vigorous resolution on the contrary principle. And 
 while converse with God, and doing good to men, 
 are made the great business and pleasure of life, 
 you will lind a thousand opportunities of enjoyment; 
 even in the midst of those afllietions, which would 
 render you so incapable of relishing the pleasures 
 of sense, that the very mention of them might in 
 those circunjstances seem an insult and a rcproacli. 
 
 § 7. At length death will come ; that .solemn and 
 important hour, which hath been passed through by 
 so many thousands who have in the main lived such 
 a life, and by so many millions who have neglected 
 it. And let conscience say, if there was ever any one 
 of these millions, who had then any reason to rejoice 
 in that neglect ; orany one, aniongtbc most strict and 
 exemplary Christians, who then lamented that his 
 heart and life had been too zealously devoted to 
 God Let conscience say, whether they have wished 
 to have a part of that time v. hich they have thus 
 employed, given back to them again, that they 
 might be more conformed to this world ; that they 
 might plunge themselves deeper into its amuse- 
 ments, or pursue its honours, its possessions, or its 
 pleasures, with greater eagerness than they had 
 done ? If you were yourself dying, and a dear friend 
 or child stood near you, and this book and the last 
 chapter of it should chance to come into your 
 thoughts, would you caution that friend or child 
 against conducting himself, by such rules as I have 
 advanced ? The question may perhaps seem un- 
 nccessaiy, where the answer is so plain and so cer- 
 tain. Well then, let me beseech you to learn how 
 you should live, by reflecting how 3 ou would die, and 
 what course you would wish to look back upon, 
 when you are just quitting this world, and entering 
 upon another. Think seriously : what if death 
 should surprise you on a sudden, and you should 
 
 be called into eternity at an hour's or a minnte's 
 warning, would you not wish that your last day 
 should have been thus begun, and the course of it, 
 if it were a day of health and activity, should have 
 been thus managed ? Would not you wish that your 
 Lord should litid you engaged in such thoughts, and 
 in sueli pursuits? Would not the passage, the flight 
 from earth to heaven, be most easy, most pleasant, 
 in this view and connexion .' And on the other hand, 
 if death should make more gradual approaches, 
 would not the remembrance of such a pious, holy, 
 humble, diligent, and useful life, make a dying bed 
 much softer and easier, than it would otherwise be ? 
 You would not die, depending upon these things ; 
 God forbid that you should ! Sensible of your many 
 imiicrfections, you would no doubt desire to throw 
 yourself at the feet of ('hrist, that you might appear 
 before GofI, adorned with his righteousness, and 
 washed from your sins in his blood. You would 
 also, with your dying breath, ascribe to the riches of 
 his grace every good disposition you had found in 
 your heart, and every worthy action you had been 
 enabled to perform. But would it not give you a 
 delight worthy of being purchased with ten thousand 
 worlds, to rellect, that his grace bestowed upon you 
 had not been in vain ; but that you had, from an 
 humble principle of grateful love, glorified your 
 heavenly Father on earth, and in some degree, 
 though not with the perfection you could desire, 
 finished the work which he had given you to do : 
 that you had been living for many past years as on 
 the borders of heaven, and endeavouring to form 
 your heart and life to the temper and manners of its 
 inhabitants. 
 
 § 8. And once more, let me entreat you to reflect 
 on the view you will have of this matter, when you 
 come into a world of glory, if (which I hope will be 
 the happy case) divine mercy conduct you thither. 
 Will not your reception there be affected by j'our 
 care, or negligence, in this holy course ? Will it 
 appear an indifferent thing in the eye of the blessed 
 .Jesus, who distributes the crowns, and allots the 
 thrones there, whether you have been among tlie 
 most zealous, or the most indolent, of his servants ? 
 Surely you must wish to have an entraliee adminis- 
 tered unto you abundantly, into the kingdom of your 
 Lord and Saviour : and what can more certainly con- 
 duce to it than to be always abounding in this work? 
 You cannot think so meanly of that glorious state, 
 as to imagine, that you shall there look round 
 about you with a secret disappointment, and say 
 in your heart, that you overvalued the inheritance 
 you have received, and pursued it with too much 
 earnestness. You will not surely complain, that it 
 had too many of your thoughts and cares ; but on 
 the contrary, you have the highest reason to believe, 
 that if any thing were capable of exciting your in- 
 dign.ition and your grief there, it would be, that. 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 amidst so many motives, and so many advantages, 
 you exerted yourself no more in tlie prosecution of 
 such a prize. 
 
 § 9. But I w ill not enlarge on so clear a case, 
 and therefore conclude the chapter with reminding 
 you, that to allow yourself deliberately to sit down 
 satisfied with any imperfect attainments in religion, 
 and to look upon a more confirmed and improved 
 state of it as what you do not desire, nay, as what 
 you secretly resolve that you will not pursue, is one 
 of the most fatal signs we can well imagine, that 
 you are an entire stranger to the first principles 
 of it. 
 
 A Prat/er suited to the state of a soul, who desires 
 to attnin the life recommended above. 
 
 " Blessed God, I cannot contradict the force of 
 these reasonings : oh that I may feel more than 
 ever the lasting efiects of them ! Thou art the great 
 fountain of being, and of happiness ; and as from 
 thee my being was derived, so from thee my happi- 
 ness directly Hows : and the nearer I am to thee, 
 the purer and the more delicious is the stream. 
 With thee is the fountain of life ; in thy light may 
 I see light ! The great object of my final hope is 
 to dwell for ever with thee. Give me now some 
 foretaste of that delight ! Give me, I beseech thee, 
 to experience the blessedness of that man who 
 feareth the Lord, and who delighteth greatly in his 
 commandments ; and so form my heart by thy grace, 
 that I may be in the fear of the Lord all the day 
 long ! 
 
 " To thee may my awakening thoughts be di- 
 rected ; and with the first ray of light that visits 
 mine opening eyes, lift up, O Lord, the light of thy 
 countenance upon me ! When my faculties are 
 roused from that broken state, in which they lay, 
 while buried, and as it were annihilated, in sleep, 
 may my first actions be consecrated to thee, O God, 
 who givest me light; who givest me, as it were, 
 every morning a new life and a new reason ! Enable 
 my heart to pour out itself before thee, with a filial 
 reverence, freedom, and endearment ! And may I 
 hearken to God as I desire he should hearken 
 unto mc ! May thy word be read with attention and 
 pleasure ; may my soul be delivered into the mould 
 of it, and may I hide it in mine heart, that I may 
 not sin against thee ! Animated by the great mo- 
 tives there suggested, may I every morning be re- 
 newing the dedication of myself to thee, through 
 .lesus thy beloved Son ; and be deriving from hiin 
 new supplies of that blessed ,S|)irit of thine, whose 
 influences are the life of my soul ! 
 
 " And ))eing thus prepared, do thou, Lord, lead 
 me forth by the hand to all the duties and events of 
 the day ! In that calling wherein thou hast been 
 pleased to call me, may I abide with thee ; not being 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 75 
 
 slothful in business but fervent in spirit, serving the 
 Lord ! May I know the value of time, and always 
 improve it to the best advantage, in such duties as 
 thou hast assigned me, how low soever they may 
 seem, or how painful soever they may be ! To thy 
 glory, O Lord, may the labours of life be pursued ; 
 and to thy glory may the refreshments of it be 
 sought ! Whether I eat or drink, or whatever I do, 
 may that end still be kept in view, and may it be 
 attained ; and may every refreshment and release 
 from business, prepare me to serve thee with greater 
 vigour and resolution ! 
 
 " May mine eye be watchful to observe the 
 descent of mercies from thee ; and may a grateful 
 sense of thine hand in them add a savour and a 
 relish to all ! And when afflictions come, which in a 
 world like this I would accustom myself to expect, 
 may I remember that they come from thee ; and may 
 that fully reconcile me to them, while I firmly 
 believe, that the same love which gives us our daily 
 bread, appoints us our daily crosses ; which I would 
 learn to take up, that I may follow my dear Lord, 
 with a temper like that which he manifested, when 
 ascending Calvary for my sake ; saying, like him. The 
 cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not 
 drink it ? And when I enter into temptation, do thou, 
 Lord, deliver me from evil! Make me sensible, I 
 intreat thee, of my own weakness, that my heart 
 may be raised to thee for present communications 
 of proportionable strength ! When I am engaged in 
 the society of others, may it be my desire and my 
 care, that I may do and receive as much good aa 
 possible ; and may I continually answer tiie great 
 purposes of life, by honouring thee, and difi'using 
 useful knowledge ;>nd happiness in the world ! And 
 when I am alone, may I remember my heavenly 
 Father is with me ; and may 1 enjoy the pleasure of 
 thy presence, and feel the animating power of it, 
 awakening my soul to an earnest desire to think 
 and act as in thy sight ! 
 
 " Thus let my days be spent : and let them always 
 be closed in thy fear, and under a sense of thy 
 gracious presence ! Meet me, O Lord, in mine even- 
 ing retirements! May I choose the nu)st projier time 
 for them ; may I diligently attend to reading and 
 prayer ; and when I review my conduct, may I do 
 it with an impartial eye ! Let not self-love spread a 
 false colouring over it; but may I judge myself, as 
 one that expects to be judged of the Lord, and is 
 very solicitous he may be approved by thee, who 
 searchest all hearts, and canst not forget any of my 
 works! Let my prayer come daily before thee as 
 incense, and let the lifting up of my hands be as the 
 morning and the evening sacrifice ! May I resign 
 my powers to sleep in sweet calmness and serenity ; 
 conscious that I have lived to God in the day, and 
 cheerfully persuaded that I am accepted of thee in 
 Christ Jesus my Lord, and humbly lioi)ing in thy 
 
76 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 niercv, tlironsrli liiin, wliotlior my days on oai tli he 
 prolonfjcd. or tlu- residue of tlieiii be cut oil' in the 
 midst ! If death eonies by a leisurely advance, may 
 it (ind n»e thus employed ; and if I am called on a 
 sudden to exchange worlds, may my last days and 
 hours he found to have been conducted by such 
 maxims as these; that I may have a s«eet and easy 
 passage front the services of time to the inlinitely 
 nobler services of an innnortal state ! I ask it througli 
 him, « lio while on earth m as tlie fairest pattern and 
 example of every virtue and grace, and who now 
 lives and reigns with thee, able- to save unto the 
 uttermost. To him having done all I would ily, 
 with humble acknowledgment that I am an unpro- 
 fitable servant : to him be gloiy for ever and ever. 
 Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 A CtnitioH (if/aiust rarious Temptations, hi/ which the 
 youiKj convert may be drawn aside from the course 
 recommended above. 
 
 Danprers rnntinne, after tlie first diffioulties (eonsitiprcd Chap, xvi.) are 
 broken tliroii^li, } I. I'artii ular raiitinns, (1.) AKaiust a sluf;f;isli 
 and iiKloIent ti inper, \ 2. (2.) Ajjainst tlie excessive loveof sensitive 
 pleasure, ^ 3. Lieadiny: to a neg^leet oflmsiness and needless ex- 
 pense, \ 4. (3 ) Asaiiisl the snares of vain company, } 5. (4.) Against 
 excessive hurry of worldly business, \ 6. ^Vlli^h is enforced l)y the 
 fatal consetineuecs these have had in many cases, \ 7. The chapter 
 concludes witli an exhortation to die to this world and to live to 
 another, 5 8. And the yoiinj^ convert's prayer for tlivine protection 
 against the dangers arisuig from these sjiares. 
 
 § 1. The representation I have been making of the 
 pleasure and advantage of a life spent in devoted- 
 ness to God and communion with him, as I have 
 described it above, will I hope engage you, my dear 
 reader, to form some purposes, and make some 
 attempt, to obtain it. But from considering the 
 nature and observing the course of things, it ap- 
 pears exceedingly evident, that besides the general 
 opposition which I formerly mentioned as likely to 
 attend you in your tirst entrance on a religious life, 
 you will find, even after you have resolutely broken 
 through this, a variety of hinderances in any at- 
 tempts of exemplary piety, and in the prosecution 
 of a remarkably strict and edifying course, will 
 present themselves daily in your path. And whereas 
 you may, by a few resolute efforts, baffle some of 
 the former sort of enemies ; these will be per- 
 petually renewing their onsets, and a vigorous 
 struggle must be continually maintained with 
 them. Give me leave now, therefore, to be par- 
 ticular in my cautions against some of the chief of 
 them. And here I would insist upon the difficul- 
 ties which will arise from indolence and the love 
 of pleasure, from vain company, and worldly 
 cares. Each of these may prove insnaring to any, 
 and especially to young persons, to whom I would 
 now have some particular regard. 
 
 § 2. I entreat you, therefore, in the first place. 
 
 that you \\\\\ gttard against a sluggish and in- 
 dolent tenn)cr. Tlie love of ease insinuates itself 
 into the heart, under a variety of plausible pre- 
 tences, v\hich are often allowed to pass, when 
 temptations of a grosser nature would not be ad- 
 mitted. The mispending a little time seems to wise 
 and good men but a small matter : yet this some- 
 times runs tliem into great inconveniences. It 
 often leads them to break in upon the seasons 
 regularly allotted to devotion, and to defer business, 
 which might immediately be done, but being put 
 ofl" from day to day, is not done at all ; and thereby 
 the services of life are at least diminished, and the 
 rewards of eternity diminished proportionably : not 
 to insist upon it, that very frequently this lays the 
 soul open to further temptations, by which it falls, 
 in consequence of being found unemployed. Be 
 therefore suspicious of the first approaches of this 
 kind. Remember, that the soul of man is an active 
 being, and that it must find its pleasure in activity. 
 Gird up therefore the loins of your mind. En- 
 deavour to keep yourself always well employed. 
 He exact, if I may with humble reverence use the 
 expression, in your appointments with God. Meet 
 him early in the morning : and say not with the 
 sluggard, when the proper hour of rising is come, 
 a little more sleep, a little more slumber. That 
 time which prudence shall advise you, give to con- 
 versation, and to other recreations. But when that 
 is elapsed, and no unforeseen and important en- 
 gagement presents, rise and be gone. Quit the 
 company of your dearest friends, and retire to your 
 proper business, whether it be in the field, the shop, 
 or the closet. For by acting contrary to the secret 
 dictates of your mind, as to what it is just at the 
 present moment best to do, though it be but in the 
 manner of spending half an hour, some degree of 
 guilt is contracted, and a habit is cherished, which 
 may draw after it much worse consequences. Con- 
 sider, therefore, what duties are to be despatched, 
 and in what seasons. Form your plan as prudently 
 as you can, and pursue it resolutely ; unless any un- 
 expected incident arise, which leads you to con- 
 clude, that duty calls you another way. Allow- 
 ances for such unthought-of interruptions must be 
 made ; but if in consequence of this, you are obliged 
 to omit any thing of importance which you proposed 
 to have done to-day, do it if possible to-morrow : 
 and do not cut yourself out new work, till the former 
 plan be despatched ; unless you really judge it, not 
 merely more amusing, but more important. And 
 always remember that a servant of Christ should 
 see to it, that he determine on these occasions as 
 in his Master's presence. 
 
 § 3. Guard also against an excessive love of sen- 
 sitive and animal pleasure, as that which will be a 
 great hinderance to you in that religious course which 
 I have now been urging. You cannot but know 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 that Christ has told us, that a man must deny him- 
 self, and take up his cross daily, if he desire to be- 
 come his disciple. Christ, the Son of God, the 
 maker and the heir of all thingcs, pleased not himself ; 
 but submitted to want, to difficulties, and hard- 
 ships, in the way of duty, and some of them of the 
 extremcst kind and degree, for tlie glory of God and 
 the salvation of men. In this way we are to follow 
 him ; and as we know not how soon we may be 
 called even to resist unto blood, striving against 
 sin, it is certainly best to accustom ourselves to that 
 discipline which we may possibly be called out to 
 exercise even in such rigorous heights. A soft and 
 delicate life will give force to temptations, which 
 might easily be subdued by one who has habituated 
 himself to endure hardships, as a good soldier of 
 Jesus Christ. It also produces an attachment to 
 this world, and an unwillingness to leave it; which 
 ill becomes those who are strangers and pilgrims on 
 earth, and who expect so soon to be called away to 
 that better c6untry which they profess to seek. 
 Add to this, that what the world calls a life of 
 pleasure is necessarily a life of expense too, and 
 may perhaps lead you, as it has done many others, 
 and especially many who have been setting out in 
 the world, beyond the limits which providence has 
 assigned ; and so, after a short course of indulgence, 
 may produce proportionable want. And while in 
 other cases it is true that pity should be shown to 
 the poor, this is a poverty that is justly contempt- 
 ible, because it is the ell'ect of a man's own folly : 
 and when your want thus comes upon you as an 
 armed man, you will not only find yourself stripped 
 of the capacity you might otherwise have secured, 
 for performing those works of charity which are so 
 ornamental to a Christian profession, but proliably 
 will be under strong temptations to some low arti- 
 licc or mean compliance, quite beneath the Christian 
 character, and that of an upright man. Many who 
 once made a high profession, after a series of such 
 sorry and scandalous shifts, have fallen into the in- 
 famy of bankrupts, and of the worst kind of bank- 
 rupts ; I mean, such as have lavished away on them- 
 selves what was indeed the property of others, and 
 so have injured, and perhaps ruined, the industrious, 
 to feed a foolish, luxurious, or ostentatious humour, 
 which while indulged was the shame of their own 
 families, and when it can be indulged no longer, is 
 their torment. This will be a terrible reproach to 
 religion; such a reproach to it, that a good man 
 would rather choose to live on bread and water, 
 or indeed to die for want of them, than to occasion 
 it. 
 
 § 4. (iuard, therefore, I beseech you, against any 
 thing which might tend that way, especially by 
 diligence in business, and by prudence and frugality 
 in expense ; which, by the divine blessing, may 
 have a very happy influence to make your aflairs 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 77 
 
 prosperous, your health vigorous, and your mind 
 easy. But this cannot be attained without keeping 
 a resolute watch over yourself, and strenuously re- 
 fusing to comply with many proposals, which indo- 
 lence or sensuality will otter in very plausible forms, 
 and for which it will plead, that it asks but very 
 little. Take heed, lest in this respect you imitate 
 those fond parents, who, by indulging their children 
 in every little thing they have a mind to, encourage 
 them, by insensible degrees, to grow still more en- 
 croaching and imperious in tlieir demands ; as if 
 they chose to be ruined with them, rather than to 
 check them in what seems a trifle. Remember and 
 consider that excellent remark, sealed by the ruin 
 of so many thousands ; " He that despiseth small 
 things, shall fall by little and little." 
 
 § 6. In this view, give me leave also seriously and 
 tenderly to caution you, my dear reader, against the 
 snares of vain company. I speak not, as before, of 
 that company which is openly licentious and pro- 
 fane. I hope there is something now in your temper 
 and views which would engage j'ou to turn away 
 from such with detestation and horror. But I be- 
 seech you to consider that those companions may 
 be very dangerous who might at first give you but 
 very little alarm ; I mean those, who though not the 
 declared enemies of religion, and professed followers 
 of vice and disorder, yet nevertheless have no prac- 
 tical sense of divine things on their hearts, so far 
 as can be judged by their conversation and be- 
 haviour. You must often of necessity be with such 
 persons, and Christianity not only allows, but re- 
 quires, that you should, on all expedient occasions 
 of intercourse with them, 'treat them with civility 
 and respect ; but choose not such for your most in- 
 timate friends, and do not contrive to spend most of 
 your leisure moments among them. For such con- 
 verse has a sensible tendency to alienate the soul 
 from God, and to render it unfit for all spiritual 
 communion with him. To convince you of this, do 
 but redect on your own experience, when you have 
 been for many hours together among persons of such 
 a character. Do you not find yourself more indis- 
 posed for devotional exercises? Do you not find 
 your heart, by insensible degrees, more and more 
 inclined to a conformity to this world, and to look 
 with a secret disrelish on those objects and employ- 
 ments to which reason directs as the noblest and the 
 best? Observe the first symptoms, and guard against 
 the snare in time: and for this purpose, endeavour 
 to form friendships founded in piety, and supported 
 by it. Be a companion of them that fear (iod, and 
 of them that keep his precepts. You well know, 
 that in the sight of God they arc the excellent of 
 the earth ; let them therefore be all your delight. 
 And that the peculiar benefit of their friendship may 
 not be lost, endeavour to make the best of the hours 
 you spend with them. The wisest of men has oh- 
 
78 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 scrveil, (hat when cotinsel in the heart of a man is 
 like tlcep water, that is, when it lies low and con- 
 cealed, a man of iinderstandincr will draw it out. 
 Endeavour therefore, on such occasions, so far as 
 you can do it with decency and convenience, to ^ivc 
 the conversation a reli!!;ioiis turn. And w hen serious 
 and useful subjects are started in your presence, hiy 
 hold of them, and cultivate llicni : and for that pur- 
 pose, let the wordof Christ dwell richly in you, and 
 be continually made the man of your counsel. 
 
 § 6. If it be so, it w ill secure you, not only from 
 the snares of idleness and luxury, but from the con- 
 tapjion of every bad example. And it will also en- 
 s;a;je you to ^"uard against those excessive hurries of 
 worldly business, which would fill up all your time 
 and thouf^lits, and therel)y choke the fcood word of 
 God, and render it in a j^reat measure, if not ()uite, 
 unfruitful. Young people are g^cnerally of an enter- 
 prising: disposition : having experienced compara- 
 tively little of the fatigue of business, and of the 
 disappointments and encumbrances of life, they 
 easily swallow them up, and annihilate them in 
 their imagination, and fancy that their spirit, their 
 application, and address, will be able to encounter 
 and surmount every obstacle or hindcrance. But the 
 event proves it otherwise. Let me entreat you, 
 therefore, to be cautious how you plunge j'oursclf 
 into a greater variety of business than you are 
 capable of managing as you ought, that is, in con- 
 sistency with the care of your souls, and the service 
 of God : which certainly ought not on any pretence 
 to be neglected. It is true, indeed, that a prudent 
 regard to your worldly interest would require such 
 a caution ; as it is obvious to every careful observer, 
 that multitudes are undone by grasping at more 
 than they can conveniently manage. Hence it has 
 frequently been seen, that while they have seemed 
 resolved to be rich, they have pierced tliemselves 
 through with many sorrows, have ruined their own 
 families, and drawn down many others into deso- 
 latioTi with them. Whereas, could they have been 
 contented with moderate employments and moderate 
 gains, they might have prospered in their business, 
 and might by sure degrees, under a divine blessing, 
 have advanced to great and honourable increase. 
 But if there were no danger at all to be apprehend- 
 ed on tliis head, if you were as certain of becom- 
 ing rich and great, as you are of perplexing and 
 fatiguing yourself in the attempt, consider, I beseech 
 you, how precarious these enjoyments are. Con- 
 sider how often a plentiful table becomes a snare, 
 and that which should have been for a man's wel- 
 fare, becomes a trap. Forget not that short lesson, 
 which is so comprehensive of the highest wisdom, 
 One thing is needful. Be daily thinking, while the 
 gay and the great things of life are glittering before 
 your eyes, how soon death will come, and im- 
 poverish you at once : how soon it will strip you of 
 
 all possessions, but those which a naked soul can 
 eaiTy along with it into eternity, when it drops 
 the body in the grave. Etf.umty ! Eternity ! 
 Ktkumty ! Carry the view of it about with you, 
 if it be possible, through every hour of waking life ; 
 and be fully persuaded, that you have no business, 
 no interest in life, that is inconsistent with it. For 
 whatsoever would be injurious to this view, is not 
 your business, is not your interest. You see, indeed, 
 that the generality of men act, as if they thought 
 the great thing which God reqtiired of them, in order 
 to secure his favour, was to get as much of the world 
 as possible ; at least, as much as they can without 
 any gross immorality, and without risking the loss 
 of all, for making a little addition. And as if it 
 wTre to abet tliis design, they tell others, and per- 
 haps tell themselves, they only seek opportunities 
 of greater usefulness. But in effect, if they mean 
 any thing more by this, than a capacity of useful- 
 ness, which when they have it they will not exert, 
 they generally deceive themselves ; and, one way or 
 another, it is a vain pretence. In most instances 
 men seek the world — either that they may hoard up 
 riches, for the mean and scandalous satisfaction of 
 looking upon them while they arc living, and of 
 thinking, that when they are dead it w ill be said of 
 them, that they have left so many hundreds or thou- 
 sands of pounds behind them ; very probably, to 
 insnare their children or their heirs ; (for the vanity 
 is not peculiar to those w ho have children of their 
 own ;) or else that they may lavish away their riches 
 on their lusts, and drown themselves in a gulf of 
 sensuality, in which, if reason be not lost, religion 
 is soon swallowed up, and with it all the noblest 
 pleasures which can enter into the heart of man. In 
 this view, the generality of rich people appear to me 
 objects of much greater compassion than the poor ; 
 especially as, when both live (which is frequently 
 the case) without any fear of God before their eyes, 
 the rich abuse the greater variety and abundance of 
 his favours, and therefore will probably feel, intliat 
 world of future ruin which awaits impenitent sin- 
 ners, a more exquisite sense of their misery. 
 
 § 7. And let me observe to you, my dear reader, 
 lest you should think yourself secure from any such 
 danger, that we have great reason to apprehend 
 there are many now in a very wretched state, who 
 once thought seriously of religion, when they were 
 first setting out, in lower circumstances of life, but 
 they have since forsaken God for mammon, and are 
 now priding themselves in those golden chains, 
 which, in all probability, before it be long, will 
 leave them to remain in those of darkness. When, 
 therefore, an attachment to the world may be fol- 
 lowed with such fatal consequences, let not thy 
 heart envy sinners ; and do not out of a desire of 
 gaining what they have, he guilty of such folly as 
 to expose yourself to thi.s double danger, of failing' 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 in the attempt, or of being undone by the success 
 of it. Contract your desires ; endeavour to be easy 
 and content with a little ; and if Providence call 
 you out to act on a larger sphere, submit to it in 
 obedience to Providence ; but number it among the 
 trials of life, which it will require a large propor- 
 tion of grace to bear well. For be assured, that as 
 affairs and interests multiply, cares and duties will 
 certainly increase, and probably disappointments 
 and sorrows will increase in an equal proportion. 
 
 § 8. On the whole, learn by divine grace to die to 
 the present world ; to look upon it as a low state of 
 being, which God never intended for the final and 
 complete happiness, or the supreme care, of any one 
 of his children. A world, where something is indeed 
 to be enjoyed, but chiefly from himself ; where a 
 great deal is to be borne with patience and resigna- 
 tion ; and where some important duties are to be 
 performed, and a course of discipline to be passed 
 through, by which you are to be formed for a better 
 state, to which, as a Christian, you are near, and to 
 which God v.ill call you, perhaps on a sudden, but 
 undoubtedly, if you hold on your way, in the fittest 
 time and the most convenient manner. Refer, 
 therefore, all this to him. Let your hopes and 
 fears, your expectations and desires, with regard to 
 this world, be kept as low as possible ; and all 
 your thoughts be united as much as may be in this 
 one centre — What it is that God would, in present 
 circumstances, have you to be ; and what is that 
 method of conduct by which you may most elTec- 
 tually please and glorify him? 
 
 The youiif) convert's Prayer for divine protection, 
 ayainst the danger of these snares. 
 
 " Blessed God ! in the midst of ten thousand 
 snares and dangers which surround me from with- 
 out and from within, permit me to look up unto 
 thee with my humble entreaty, that thou wouldst 
 deliver me from them tliat rise up against me, and 
 that thine eyes may be upon me for good! Wlicn 
 sloth antl indolence are ready to seize me, awaken 
 mc from that idle dream, with lively and aflcrtionatc 
 views of that invisible and eternal world, to which 
 I am tending ! Remind me of what infinite import- 
 ance it is, th.at I diligently improve those transient 
 moments, which thou hast allotted to me as fln^ 
 time of my preparation for it. 
 
 " When sinners entice me, may I not consent! 
 May holy converse with God give me a disrelish for 
 the converse of those who are strangers to thee, and 
 IV hi) would separate my soul from thee! May 1 
 honour them that fear the Lord, and walking with 
 such wise and holy men, may I find I am daily 
 advancing in wisdom and holiness ! Quicken me, O 
 Lord, by their means, that by me thou niayst also 
 quicken others ! Make me the happy instrument of 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 79 
 
 enkindling and animating the flame of divine love 
 in their breasts ; and may it catch from heart to 
 heart, and grow every moment in its progress ! 
 
 " Guard me, O Lord, from the love of sensual 
 pleasure ! May I seriously remember, that to be 
 carnally minded is death ! May it please thee, 
 therefore, to purify and refine my soul by the in- 
 fluences of Ihine holy Spirit, that I may always 
 shun unlawful gratifications more solicitously than 
 others pursue them ; and that those indulgences of 
 animal nature which thou hast allowed, and which 
 the constitution of things renders necessary, may 
 be soberly and moderately used ! May I still re- 
 member the superior dignity of my spiritual and 
 intelligent nature, and may the pleasures of the 
 man and the Christian be sought as my noblest 
 happiness ! May my soul rise on the wings of holy 
 contemplation to the regions of invisible glory ; and 
 may I be endeavouring to form myself, under the 
 influences of divine grace, for the entertainments of 
 those angelic spirits, that live in thy presence in a 
 happy incapacity of those gross delights, by which 
 spirits dwelling in flesh are so often insnared, and 
 in which they so often lose the memory of their 
 high original, and of those noble hopes which alone 
 are proportionable to it ! 
 
 " Give me, O Lord, to know the station in which 
 thou hast fixed me, and steadily to pursue the duties 
 of it! But deliver me from those excessive cares of 
 this world, which would so engross my time and my 
 thoughts, that the one thing needful should be for- 
 gotten ! May my desires after worldly possessions 
 be moderated, by considering their uncertain and 
 unsatisfying nature ; and while otiiers arc laying up 
 treasures on earth, may I be rich towards God ! 
 May I never be too busy to attend to those great 
 aflairs which lie between thee and my soul ; never 
 be so engrossed with the concerns of time, as to 
 neglect the interests of eternity ! May I pass through 
 earth with my heart and hopes set upon heaven, and 
 feel the attractive influence stronger and stronger 
 as I approach still nearer and nearer to that desirable 
 centre: till tiie happy moment come, when every 
 earthly olyect siiall disappear from my view, and 
 the shining glories of the heavenly world shall fill 
 my improved and strengthened sight, which shall 
 then be cheered with that which would now over- 
 whelm me ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 The cast- of spiritual di cay and lanr/iior in rrlit/ion. 
 
 Declensions iit rclif^ion, .mU relapses into sin, with llieir soi rowful con- 
 setjucnee*, are in the (iener.il too proliable, } I . Th*- c.ise of deelension 
 and lanKiior in reh(j;ion ficscrilicd, negatively, } 2. and positively, 
 } .'i. As <liscoverin;i itself, (I.) IJy a failure iji the duties of the 
 closet, ; 4. (2.) By a ncKlcclof social worship, 5 .'>. (.1) By want of 
 love to our fellow Cliristianti, \ ft. (1.) By an undne attachnient to 
 sensual pleasurefl, or secnhtr cares, \ 7. (ft.) By prejudices against 
 
80 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 soni* imporlaiil principles in rcli(;ion, } 8. A syni|iti>ni peculiarly 
 s;ut anil ilari;;eri>us, \ !l, 10. I)Mielii>ns fur reeo\ir\, } II Iniini'. 
 ilialely to be pursued, } 11. A prayer for one uiider'spirilnal decays. 
 
 § 1. li- I am so liappv as to prevail upon you in 
 the exliortutions and cautions I have ftiven, you will 
 probably sro on « itli pleasure and eonifort in religion, 
 and your jiatli will fienerally be like the inorninu; 
 liijht. which .sliineth more and more until the perfect 
 (Ic-iy. Yet I dare not Hatter m>selt' with an expect- 
 ation of such success, as shall carry you above those 
 varieties of temper, conduct, and state, which have 
 been more or less the complaint of the best of men. 
 Much do I fear, that how w^armly soever your heart 
 may now be impressed w ith the representation I have 
 ))een nuikinp:, thoufjli the great objects of your faith 
 and hope continue unchanneable, your temper 
 towards them will be changed. IMuch do I fear, 
 that you w ill feel your mind languish and tire in 
 the {jood ways of God ! Nay that you nuiy be pre- 
 vailed upon to take some step out of them, and may 
 thus fall a prey to some of those temptations, which 
 you now look upon with a holy scorn. The probable 
 consequence of this will be, that God will hide his 
 face from you ; that he will stretch forth his afflict- 
 ing hand against you ; and that you will still see 
 your sorrow ful moments, how cheerfully soever you 
 may now be rejoicing in the Lord, and joying in the 
 God of your salvation. I hope, therefore, it may be 
 of some service, if this too probable event should 
 happen, to consider these eases a little more parti- 
 cularly ; and I heartily pray, that God would make 
 what I shall say concerning them the means of 
 restoring, comforting, and strengthening your soul, if 
 he ever suffers you in any degree to deviate from him. 
 
 § 2. We w ill first consider the case of spiritual 
 declensions, and languor in religion. And here I 
 desire, that, before I proceed any further, you would 
 observe, that I do not comprehend under this head 
 every abatement of that fervour, w hich a young 
 convert may lind when he first becomes experiment- 
 ally acquainted with divine things. Our natures 
 are so framed, that the novelty of objects strikes 
 them in something of a peculiar manner : not to 
 urge, how much more easily our passions are im- 
 pressed in the earlier years of life, than when we 
 are more advanced in the journey of it. This, per- 
 haps, is not sufficiently considered. Too great a 
 stress is commonly laid on the flow of affections ; and 
 in consequence of this, a Christian who is ripened in 
 grace, and greatly advanced in his preparation for 
 glory, may sometimes be ready to lament imaginary 
 rather than real decays, and to say, without any just 
 foundation, O tliat it were with me as in months 
 past! Therefore you can hardly be too frequently 
 told, that religion consists chiefly " in the resolu- 
 tion of the will for God, and in a constant care to 
 avoid whatever we are persuaded lie would disap- 
 prove, to despatch the work he has assigned us in 
 
 life, and to promote his glory in the happiness of 
 mankind." To this we are ehielly to attend, looking 
 in all to the simplicity and purity of those motives 
 from which we act, .which we know are cliiefly 
 regarded by that God who searches the heart ; 
 humbling ourselves before him at the saiue time 
 under a sense of our many imperfections, and flying 
 to the blood of Christ and the grace of the gospel. 
 
 § 3. Having given this precaution, I will now a 
 little more jjarticularly describe the ease, which I 
 call the state of a Christian who is declining in 
 religion ; so far as it does not fall in with those, 
 which I shall consider in the following chapters. 
 And I must observe, that it chiefly consists " in a 
 forgetful ness of divine objects, and a remissness in 
 those various duties, to w hich we stand engaged by 
 that solemn surrender which we have made of our- 
 selves to the ser\ice of God." There will be a 
 variety of symptoms, according to the difl'erent 
 circumstances and relations in which the Christian 
 is placed ; but some will be of a more universal 
 kind. It will be peculiarly proper to touch on 
 these ; and so much the rather, as these declensions 
 are often unobserved, like the gray hairs which were 
 upon Ephraim, when he knew it not. 
 
 § 4. Should you, my good reader, fall into this 
 state, it will probably first discover itself by a 
 failure of the duties of the closet. Not that I 
 suppose they will at first, or certainly conclude 
 that they will at all, be wholly omitted ; but they 
 will be run over in a cold and formal manner. 
 Sloth, or some of those other snares which I cau- 
 tioned you against in the former chapter, will so far 
 prevail upon you, that though perhaps you know 
 and recollect that the proper season of retirement 
 is come, you will sometimes indulge yourself upon 
 your bed in the morning, sometimes in conversation 
 or business in the evening, so as not to have conve- 
 nient time for it. Or perhaps, when you come into 
 your closet at that season, some favourite book you 
 are desirous to read, some correspondence that you 
 choose to carry on, or some other amusement, will 
 present itself, and plead to be despatched first. 
 This will probably take up more time than you 
 imagined ; and then secret prayer will be hurried 
 over, and perhaps reading the Scriptures quite neg- 
 lected. You will plead, perhaps, that it is but for 
 once ; but the same allowance w ill be made a second 
 and a third time : and it will grow more easy and 
 familiar to you each time, than it was the last. And 
 thus God will be mocked, and your own soul will 
 be defrauded of its spiritual meals, if I may be 
 allowed the expression ; the word of God will be 
 slighted, and self-examination quite disused ; and 
 secret prayer itself will grow a burthen rather than 
 a delight ; a trifling ceremony, rather than a devout 
 homage fit for the acceptance of our Father who is 
 in heaven. 
 
OF RELIGION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 81 
 
 § 5. If immediate and resolute measures be not 
 taken for your recovery from these declensions, they 
 will spread further, and reach the acts of social 
 ■worship. You will feel the effect in your families, 
 and in public ordinances. And if you do not feel 
 it, the symptoms will be so much the worse. Wan- 
 dering thoughts will (as it were) eat out the very 
 heart of these duties. It is not, I believe, the privi- 
 lege of the most eminent Christians, to be entirely 
 free from them ; but probably in these circumstances 
 you will find but few intervals of strict attention, 
 or of any thing which wears the appearance of in- 
 ward devotion. And when these heartless duties 
 are concluded, there will scarcely be a reflection 
 made, how little God hath been enjoyed in tliem, 
 how little he hath been honoured by them. Per- 
 haps the sacrament of the Lord's supper, being so 
 admirablj' adapted to fix the attention of the soul, 
 and to excite its warmest exercise of holy affections, 
 may be the last ordinance in which these declensions 
 will be felt. And yet who can say that the sacred 
 table is a privileged place ? Having been unneces- 
 sarily straitened in your preparations, you will at- 
 tend with less fixedness and enlargement of heart 
 than usual. And perhaps a dissatisfaction in the 
 review, when there has been a remarkable aliena- 
 tion or insensibility of mind, may occasion a dispo- 
 sition to forsake your place and your duty there. 
 And when your spiritual enemies have once gained 
 this point upon you, it is probable you will fall by 
 swifter degrees than ever, and your resistance to 
 their r ttempts will grow weaker and weaker. 
 
 § 6. When your love to God our Father and to 
 the Lord Jesus Christ fails, your fervour of Chris- 
 tian afTcction to your brethren in Christ will propor- 
 tionably decline, and your concern for usefulness 
 in life abate; especially where any thing is to be 
 done for spiritual edification. You will find one 
 excuse or another for the neglect of religious dis- 
 course, perhaps not only among neighbours and 
 Christian friends, when very convenient opportuni- 
 ties offer ; but even with regard to those who are 
 members of your own families, and to those who, if 
 you are fixed in the superior relations of life, are 
 committed to your care. 
 
 ^ 7. With this remissness, an attachment, either 
 to sensual pleasure, or to worldly business, will in- 
 crease. For the soul must have sometliing to employ 
 it, and something to delight itself in ; and as it 
 turns to one or the other of these, temptations of one 
 sort or another will present themselves. In some in- 
 stances, perhaps, the strictest bounds of temperance, 
 and the regular appointments of life, may be broken 
 in upon, through a fondness for company, and the 
 entertainments which often attend it. In other in- 
 stances, the interests of life appearing greater than 
 they did before, and taking up more of the mind, 
 contrary interests of other persons may throw you 
 
 into disquietude, or plunge you in debate and con- 
 tention ; in which it is extremely difficult to preserve 
 either the serenity or the innocence of the soul. 
 And perhaps, if ministers and other Christian friends 
 observe this, and endeavour in a plain and faithful 
 way to reduce you from your wandering, a false, 
 delicacy of mind, often contracted in such a state as 
 this, will render these attempts extremely disagree- 
 able. The ulcer of the soul (if I may be allowed 
 the expression) will not bear being touched, when 
 it most needs it ; and one of the most generous and 
 self-denying instances of Christian friendship, shall 
 be turned into an occasion of coldness and distaste, 
 yea, perhaps of enmity. 
 
 § 8. And possibly, to sum up all, this disordered 
 state of mind may lead you into some prejudices 
 against those very principles, which might be most 
 effectual for your recovery : and your great enemy 
 may succeed so far in his attempts against you, as to 
 persuade you, that you have lost nothing in religion, 
 when you have almost lost all. He may very pro- 
 bably lead you to conclude, that your former de- 
 votional frames were mere fits of enthusiasm ; and 
 that the holy regularity of your walk before God 
 was an unnecessary strictness and scrupulosity. 
 Nay, you may think it a great improvement in 
 understanding, that you have learnt from some new 
 masters, that if a man treat his fellow-creatures 
 with humanity and good nature, judging and re- 
 viling those only who would disturb others by the 
 narrowness of their notions, (for these are generally 
 exempted from other objects of t!ie most universal 
 and disinterested benevolence so often boasted of,) 
 he must necessarily be in a very good state, though 
 he pretend not to converse much with God, pro- 
 vided that he think respectfully of him, and do not 
 provoke him by any gross immoralities. 
 
 § 9. I mention this in the last stage of religious 
 declensions, because I apprehend that to be its 
 proper place ; and I fear, it will be found by ex- 
 perience to stand upon the very confines of that 
 gross apostasy into deliberate and presumptuous 
 sin, which will claim our consideration under the 
 next head : and because, too, it is that symptom, 
 which most effectually tends to prevent the success, 
 and even the use, of any proper remedies, in con- 
 sequence of a fond and fatal apprehension, that 
 they are needless. It is, if I may borrow the simile, 
 like those fits of lethargic drowsiness, which often 
 precede apoplexies and death. 
 
 § 10. It is by no means my design at this time to 
 reckon up, much less to consider at large, those 
 dangerous principles which are now ready to pos- 
 sess the mind, and to lay the foundation of a false 
 and treacherous peace. Indeed they arc in different 
 instances various, and sometimes run into opposite 
 extremes. But if God awaken you to read your 
 Bible with attention, and give you to feel the spirit 
 
88 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 u itli which it is wi itteii, almost every page will flash 
 ill eoin ictioii upon the mind, and spread a lifjht to 
 scatter and disperse these shades of darkness. 
 
 § II. WItat 1 ehielly intend in this address, is to 
 enfjasre yon, if possible, as soon as you pcreeive the 
 tirst symptoms of these deelensions, to be upon your 
 guard, and to endeavour as speedily as possible to 
 reeover yourself from them. And I would remind 
 you, that the remedy must begin where the lirst 
 cause of complaint prevailed, I mean, in the closet. 
 Take some time for reeoUeetion, and ask your own 
 conscience seriously, how matters stand between the 
 blessed God and your soul .' Whether they are as 
 Ihey once were, and as you could wish them to be, 
 if you saw your life just drawing to a period, and 
 were to pass immediately into the eternal state ? 
 One serious thought of eternity shames a thousand 
 vain excuses, with which, in the forgetfulness of it, 
 we are ready to delude our own souls. And when 
 you feel that secret misgiving of heart, which will 
 naturally arise on this occasion, do not endeavour 
 to palliate the matter, and to find out slight and 
 artful coverings for what you cannot forbear secretly 
 condemning ; but honestly fall under the conviction, 
 and be humbled for it. Pour out your heart before 
 God, and seek the renewed influences of his Spirit 
 and grace. Return with more exactness to secret 
 devotion, and to self-examination. Read the Scrip- 
 ture with yet greater diligence, and especially the 
 more devotional and spiritual parts of it. Labour 
 to ground it in your heart, and to feel, what you 
 have reason to believe the sacred penmen felt when 
 they wrote, so far as circumstances may agree. Open 
 your soul with all simplicity to every lesson which 
 the word of God would teach you ; and guard 
 against those things vt'hich you perceive to alienate 
 your mind from inward religion, though there be 
 nothing criminal in the things themselves. They 
 may perhaps in the general be lawful ; to some pos- 
 sibly they may be expedient ; but if they produce 
 such an effect as was mentioned above, it is certain 
 they are not convenient for you. In these circum- 
 stances, above all seek the converse of those Chris- 
 tians whose progress in religion seems most remark- 
 able, and who adorn their profession in the most 
 amiable manner. Labour to obtain their temper 
 and sentiments, and lay open your case and your 
 heart to them, with all the freedom which prudence 
 will permit. Employ yourself at seasons of leisure 
 in reading practical and devotional books, in which 
 the mind and heart of the pious author is transfused 
 into the work, and in which you 'can (as it were) 
 taste the genuine spirit of Christianity. And to 
 conclude, take the first opportunity that presents, 
 of making an approach to the table of the Lord, and 
 spare neither time nor pains in the most serious pre- 
 paration for it. There renew your covenant with 
 God ; i)ut your soul anew into the hand of Christ, 
 
 and endeavour to view the wonders of his dying 
 love in such a inannei as may rekindle the hingui.sh- 
 ing flame, and quicken you to more vigorous reso- 
 lutions than ever, to live unto him who died for 
 you. And watch over your own heart, that the good 
 impressions you then feel may continue. Rest not, 
 till you have obtained as confirmed a state in re- 
 ligion as you ever knew. Rest not, till you have 
 made a greater progress than before ; for it is cer- 
 tain, more is yet beliind ; and it is only by a zeal 
 to go forward, that you can be secure from the dan- 
 ger of going backward, and of revolting more and 
 more. 
 
 § 12. I only add, that it is necessary to take these 
 precautions as soon as possible ; or you will proba- 
 bly find a much swifter progress than you are aware 
 in the downhill road ; and you may possibly be left 
 of God, to fall into some gross and aggravated sin, 
 so as to fill your conscience with an agony and hor- 
 ror, which the pain of broken bones can but imper- 
 fectly express. 
 
 A Prayer for one tinder spiritual decays. 
 
 " Eternal and unchangeable Jehovali ! thy per- 
 fections and glories are, like thy being, immutable. 
 Jesus thy Son is the same yesterday, to-day, and 
 for ever. The eternal world to which I am hasten- 
 ing, is always equally important, and presses upon 
 the attentive mind for a more fixed and solemn 
 regard, in proportion to the degree in which it comes 
 nearer and nearer. But, alas, my views, and my 
 affections, and my best resolutions, are continually 
 varying, like this poor body, which goes through 
 daily and hourly alterations in its state and cir- 
 cumstances. Whence, O Lord, whence this sad 
 change w hieh I now experience in the frame and 
 temper of my mind towards thee ? Whence this 
 alienation of my soul from thee ? Why can I not 
 come to thee with all the endearments of filial love, 
 as I once could ? Why is thy service so remissly 
 attended, if attended at all ? And why are the ex- 
 ercises of it, which were once my greatest pleasure, 
 become a burthen to me? Where, O God, is the 
 blessedness I once spake of, when my joy in thee, as 
 my heavenly Father, was so conspicuous, that 
 strangers might have observed it; and when my 
 heart did so overflow with love to thee, and with 
 zeal for thy service, that it was matter of self-denial 
 to me, to limit and restrain the genuine expressions 
 of those strong emotions of my soul, even where 
 prudence and duty required it ! 
 
 " Alas, Lord, whither am I fallen ! Thine eye sees 
 me still ; but O how unlike what it once saw me ! 
 Cold and insensible as I am, I must blush on the 
 reflection. Thou seest me in secret, and secst me, 
 perhaps, often amusing myself with trifles, in those 
 seasons which I used solemnly to devote to thine 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 immediate service. Thou scest me, coming into 
 thy presence as by constraint ; and when I am be- 
 fore thee, so straitened in my spirit, that I hardly 
 know what to say to thee, though thou art the God 
 M ith whom I have to do, and though the keeping 
 up a humble and dutiful correspondence with 
 thee is beyond all comparison the most important 
 business of my life. And even when I am speak- 
 ing to thee, with how much coldness and formality 
 is it ! It is perhaps the work of the imagination, 
 the labour of the lips ; but where are those ardent 
 desires, those intense breathings after God, which I 
 once felt ? Where is that pleasing repose in thee, 
 which I was once conscious of, as being near my 
 divine rest, as being happy in that nearness, and 
 resolving tliat, if possible, I would no more be re- 
 moved from it? But O, how far am I now 
 removed ? When these short devotions, if they 
 may be called devotions, are over, in what long in- 
 tervals do I forget thee, and appear so little ani- 
 mated with thy love, so little devoted to thy service, 
 that a stranger might converse with me a con- 
 siderable time, without knowing that I had ever 
 formed any acquaintance with thee, without dis- 
 covering that I had so much as known or heard 
 any thing of God ! Thou callest me to thy house, 
 
 0 Lord, on thine own day ; but how heartless are 
 my services there ! I ofler tlice no more than a car- 
 cass. My thoughts and affections are engrossed 
 with other objects, while I draw near thee with my 
 mouth, and honour thee with my lips. Thou callest 
 me to thy table ; but my heart is so frozen, that it 
 hardly melts even at the foot of the cross ; hardly 
 feels any efhcacy in the blood of Jesus. O wretched 
 creature that I am! Unworthy of being called 
 thine ! Unworthy of a place among thy children, or 
 of the meanest situation in thy family ; rather 
 worthy to be cast out, to be forsaken, yea, to be 
 utterly destroyed ! 
 
 " Is this. Lord, the service which I once pro- 
 mised, and which thou hast so many thousand rea- 
 sons to expect? Arc these the returns I am making 
 for thy daily providential care, for the sacrifice of 
 thy Son, for the communications of thy Spirit, for 
 the pardon of niy numberless aggravated sins, for 
 the hopes, the undeserved and so often forfeited 
 hopes, of eternal glory f Lord, I am asiiamed to 
 stand or to kneel before thee. But pity me, I be- 
 seech thee, and help me ; for I am a pitiable object 
 indeed ! My soul clcaveth unto the dust, and lays 
 itself as in the dust before thee ; but oh, quicken me 
 according to thy word ! Let mc trifle no longer, for 
 
 1 am upon the brink of a precipice ! I am thinking 
 of my ways : oh give me grace to turn my feet unto 
 thy testimonies ; to make haste, without any further 
 delay, that I may keep thy commandments ! Search 
 me, O Lord, and try me! Go to the first root of 
 this distemper, which spreads itself over my soul ; 
 
 G 2 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 83 
 
 and recover me from it. Represent sin unto me, 
 
 0 Lord, I beseech thee, that I may see it with ab- 
 horrence ! and represent the Lord Jesus Christ to 
 mc, in such a light that I may look upon him and 
 mourn, that I may look upon him and love ! May 
 
 1 awaken from this stupid lethargy, into which I 
 am sinking ; and may Christ give me more abundant 
 degrees of spiritual life and activity than I have 
 ever yet received ! And may I be so quickened and 
 animated by him, that I may more than recover the 
 ground I have lost, and may make a more speedy 
 and exemplary progress, than in my best days I 
 have ever yet done ! Send down upon mc, O Lord, 
 in a more rich and abundant effusion, thy good 
 Spirit ! May he dwell in me, as in a temple which 
 he has consecrated to himself: and while all the 
 service is directed and governed by him, may holy 
 and acceptable sacrifices be continually offered. 
 May the incense be constant, and may it be fra- 
 grant ! May the sacred fire burn and blaze per- 
 petually ; and may none of its vessels ever be 
 profaned, by being employed to an unholy or for- 
 bidden use ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 The sad case of a Relapse into known and deliberate 
 sin, after solemn acts of dedication to God, and 
 some progress made in religion. 
 
 Untliougiit of relapses may happen, ; 1. and bring tin soul into a 
 miserable rase, } 2. Yet the case is not desperate, } 3. Tlie Ijack- 
 slider ur^ed immediately to return, (I.) By deep humiliation before 
 God for so aggravated an ofituce, } 4. (2.) By renewed regards to 
 the divine mercy In Christ, \ 5. (3.) By an open profession of repent- 
 ance where the crime hath given public otVcnce, \ 6. M.) Fails to be 
 reviewed for future caution, \ 7. The chapter concludes, \ H. with 
 a prayer for the use of one w ho hath fallen into gross sins, after reli- 
 gious resolutions and engagenients. 
 
 \ 1. Tin; declensions which I have described in the 
 foregoing chapter must be acknowledged worthy of 
 deep lamentation. But happy will you be, my 
 dear reader, if you never know, by experience, a 
 circumstance yet more melancholy than this. Per- 
 haps, when you consider the view of things which 
 you now have, you imagine that no considerations 
 can ever bribe you, in any single instance, to act 
 contrary to the present dictates or suggestions of 
 your conscience, and of the Spirit of God as setting 
 it on work. No, you think it would be better for 
 you to die. And you think rightly. But Peter 
 thought, and said so too: Though I should die with 
 thee, yet will I not deny thee ; and yet, after all, he 
 fell : and therefore be not high-minded, but fear. It 
 is not impossible but that you may fall into that very 
 sin, of which you imagine you are least in danger, 
 or into that against which you have most solemnly 
 resolved, and of which you have already most bit- 
 terly repented. You may relapse into it again and 
 again ; but oh, if you do, nay, if you should deli- 
 
84 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 biralolv ami prosumptuoiislj' fall but once, lio« 
 (Uh'p « ill it iiii ico join heart ! How dear will you 
 pay lor all the i)Icasuro with which the temptation 
 has been baited ! How will this separate between 
 God and you ! What a desolation, what a dreadful 
 desolation, will it spread over your soul ! It is 
 Rrievous to think of it. Perhaps in such a state 
 you may feel more afjony and distress in your own 
 conscience, when you come seriously to reflect, 
 than you ever felt when you were first awakened 
 and reclaimed ; because the sin will be attended 
 with some very high a|?p;ravations, beyond those of 
 your unregenerate state. I well knew the person 
 that said, " The ag^onies of a sinner in the first 
 panp;s of his repentance, were not to be mentioned 
 on the same day with those of the backslider in 
 heart, when he comes to be filled with his own ways." 
 
 § 2. Indeed it is enough to wound one's heart to 
 think how yours will be wounded ; how all your 
 comforts, all your evidences, all your hopes, will 
 be clouded, what thick darkness will spread itself 
 on every side, so that neither sun, nor moon, nor 
 stars, will appear in your heaven. Your spiritual 
 consolations will be gone, and your temporal enjoy- 
 ments will also be rendered tasteless and insipid. 
 And if afflictions be sent, as they probably may, in 
 order to reclaim you, a consciousness of guilt will 
 .sharpen and envenom the dart. Then will the 
 enemy of your soul, with all his art and power, rise 
 up against you, encouraged by your fall, and labour- 
 ing to trample you down in utter hopeless ruin. 
 He will persuade you that you are already undone 
 beyond recovery. He will suggest that it signifies 
 nothing to attempt it any more ; for that every 
 effort, every amendment, every act of repentance, 
 will but make your case so much the worse, and 
 plunge you lower and lower into hell. 
 
 § .3. Thus will he endeavour by terrors to keep 
 you from that sure remedy, which yet remains. But 
 yield not to him. Your case will indeed be sad ; 
 and if it be now your case, it is deplorably so ; and 
 to rest in it would be still much worse. Your heart 
 would be hardened yet more and more ; and nothing 
 could be expected, but sudden and aggravated de- 
 struction. Yet, blessed be God, it is not quite hope- 
 less. Your wounds are corrupted, because of your 
 foolishness ; but the gangrene is not incurable. 
 There is balm in Gilead, there is a Physician 
 there. Do not therefore render your condition in- 
 deed hopeless, by now saying, there is no hope, and 
 drawing a fatal argument from that false supposi- 
 tion for going after the idols you have loved. Let 
 me address you in the language of God to his back- 
 sliding people, when they were ready to apprehend 
 tliat to be their case, and to draw such a conclusion 
 from it : only return unto me, saith the Lord. Cry 
 for renewed grace, and in the strength of it labour 
 to return. Cry with David under the like guilt. 
 
 I have gone astray like a lost sheep ; seek thy ser- 
 vant, for I do not forget thy commandments ; and 
 that remembrance of them is, I hope, a token for 
 good. But if thou wilt return at all, do it imme- 
 diately. Take not one step more in that fatal path 
 to wliicli thou hast turned aside. Tiiink not to add 
 one sin more to the account, and then to repent ; as 
 if it would be but the same thing on the whole. 
 The second error may be worse than the first ; it may 
 make wny for another and another, and draw on a 
 terrible train of consequences, beyond all you can 
 now imagine. Make haste, therefore, and do not 
 delay. Escape, and fly as for thy life, before the 
 dart strike tlirougli thy liver. Give not sleep to thy 
 eyes, nor slumber to thy eye-lids : lie not down 
 upon thy bed under unpardoned guilt, lest evil 
 overtake thee, lest the sword of divine justice should 
 smite thee ; and whilst thou purposest to return 
 to-morrow, thou shouldst this night go and take 
 possession of hell. 
 
 § 4. Return immediately ; and permit me to add, 
 return solemnly. Some very pious and excellent 
 divines have expressed themselves upon this head 
 in a manner which seems liable to dangerous abuse ; 
 when they urge men after a fall, not to stay to sur- 
 vey the ground, nor consider how they came to be 
 thrown down, but immediately to get up and renew 
 the race. In slighter cases the advice is good ; but' 
 when conscience has suffered such violent out- 
 rage by the commission of known, wilful, and de- 
 liberate sin, (a case which one would hope should 
 but seldom happen to those who have once sincerely 
 entered on a religious course,) I can by no means 
 think that either reason or Scripture encourages 
 such a method. Especially would it be improper, 
 if the action itself has been of so heinous a nature, 
 that even to have fallen into it on the most sudden 
 surprise of temptation, must have greatly ashamed, 
 and terrified, and distressed the soul. Such an 
 affair is dreadfully solemn, and should be treated 
 accordingly. If this has been the sad case with 
 you, my then unhappy reader, I would pity you, 
 and mourn over you ; and would beseech you, as 
 you tender your peace, your recovery, the health and 
 the very life of your soul, that you would not loiter 
 away an hour. Relire immediately for serious re- 
 flection. Break through other engagements and 
 employments, unless they be such as you cannot in 
 conscience delay for a few hours, which can seldom 
 happen in the circumstance I now suppose. This 
 is the one thing needful. Set yourself to it, there- 
 fore, as in the presence of God, and hear at large, 
 patiently and humbly, what conscience has to say, 
 though it chide and reproach severely. Yea, 
 earnestly pray that God would speak to you by 
 conscience, and make you more thoroughly to know 
 and feel, what an evil and bitter thing it is that you 
 have thus forsaken him. Think of all the aggra- 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 vating circumstances attending your offence, and 
 especially think of those which arise from abused 
 mercy and goodness ; which arise, not only from 
 your solemn vows and engagements to God, but 
 from the views ) ou have had of a Redeemer's love, 
 sealed even in blood. And are these the returns ? 
 Was it not enough that Christ should have been 
 thus injured by his enemies ? Must he be wounded 
 in the house of his friends too ? Were you de- 
 livered to work such abominations as these ? Did 
 the blessed Jesus groan and die for you, that you 
 might sin with boldness and freedom ; that you 
 might extract, as it were, the very spirit and essence 
 of sin, and offend God to a height of ingratitude 
 and baseness, which would otherwise have been in 
 the nature of things impossible ? O think how 
 justly God might cast you out from his presence ! 
 How justly he might number you among the most 
 signal instances of his vengeance ! And tliink how 
 your heart would endure, or your hands be strong, if 
 he should deal thus with you ! Alas, all your 
 former experiences would enhance your sense of 
 the ruin and misery, that must be felt in an eternal 
 banishment from the divine presence and favour. 
 
 § .5. Indulge such reflections as these. Stand the 
 humbling sight of your sins in such a view as this. 
 The more odious and the more painful it appears, 
 the greater prospect there will be of your beneDt by 
 attending to it. But the matter is not to rest here. 
 All these reflections are intended, not to grieve but 
 to cure ; and to grieve no more, than may promote 
 the cure. You are indeed to look upon sin ; but you 
 are also, in such a circumstance, if ever, to look 
 upon Christ ; to look upon him, whom you have 
 now pierced deeper than before, and to mourn for 
 him with sincerity and tenderness. The God whom 
 you have injured and affronted, whose laws you 
 have broken, and whose justice you have (as it were) 
 challenged by this foolish wretched apostasy, is 
 nevertheless a most merciful God. You cannot be 
 so ready to return to him as he is to receive you. 
 Even now does he, as it were, solicit a reconciliation, 
 by those tender impressions which he is making 
 upon your heart. But remember how he will be 
 reconciled. It is in the very same way in which you 
 made your first approach to him ; in the name, and 
 for the sake, of his dear Son. Come, therefore, in a 
 humble dependence upon him. Renew your appli- 
 cation to Jesus, that his blood may (as it were) be 
 .sprinkled upon your soul, that your soul may thereby 
 be purified, and your guilt be removed. This very sin 
 of yours, which the blessed God foresaw, increased 
 the weight of your Redeemer's sufferings. It was 
 concerned in shedding his blood. Humbly go, and 
 place your wounds, as it were, under the droppings 
 of that precious balm, by which alone they can be 
 healed. That compassionate Saviour will delight 
 to restore you, when you lie as a humble suppliant 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 85 
 
 at his feet, and will graciously fake part with you 
 in that peace and pleasure which he gives. Through 
 him renew your covenant with God, that broken 
 covenant, the breach of which divine justice might 
 teach you to know by terrible things in righteous- 
 ness ; but mercy allows of an accommodation. Let 
 the consciousness and remembrance of that breach 
 engage you to enter into covenant anew, under a 
 deeper sense than ever of your own weakness, and 
 a more cordial dependence on divine grace for 
 your security, than you have ever yet entertained. 
 I know you will be ashamed to present yourself 
 among the children of God in his sanctuary, and 
 especially at his table, under a consciousness of so 
 much guilt ; but break through that shame if Provi- 
 dence open you the way. You will be humbled be- 
 fore your offended Father : but surely there is no 
 place where you are more likely to be humbled, than 
 when you see yourself in his house, and no ordinance 
 administered there can lay you lower than that in 
 which Christ is evidently set forth as crucified be- 
 fore your eyes. Sinners are the only persons who 
 have business there. The best of men come to that 
 sacred table, as sinners. As such make your ap- 
 proach to it ; yea, as the greatest of sinners ; as 
 one M ho needs the blood of Jesus, as much as any 
 creature upon earth. 
 
 § 6. And let me remind you of one thing more. If 
 your- fall has been of such a nature as to give any 
 scandal to others, be not at all concerned to save 
 appearances, and to moderate those mortifications 
 which deep humiliation before them would occasion. 
 The depth and pain of that mortification is indeed 
 an excellent medicine, which God has in his wise 
 goodness appointed for you in such circumstances 
 as these. In such a ease, confess your fault with 
 the greatest frankness; aggravate it to the utmost: 
 entreat pardon, and prayer, from tliose whom you 
 have offended. Then, and never till then, will you 
 be in the way to peace : not by palliating a fault, 
 not by making vain excuses, not by objecting to the 
 manner in which others may have treated you ; as 
 if the least excess of rigour in a faithful admoni- 
 tion, were a crime equal to some great immorality 
 that occasioned it. This can only proceed from the 
 madness of pride and self-love : it is the sensibility 
 of a wound, which is hardened, swelled, and in- 
 flamed, and it must be reduced, and cooled, and 
 suppled, before it can possibly be cured. To be 
 censured and condemned by men, will be but a 
 little grievance to a soul thoroughly humbled and 
 broken under a sense of having incurred the con- 
 demning sentence of God. Such a one will rather 
 desire to glorify God, by submitting to deserved 
 blame ; and will fear deceiving others into a more 
 favourable opinion of him than he inwardly knows 
 himself to deserve. These are the sentiments which 
 God gives to the sincere penitent in such a case ; 
 
THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 iiiul by Uiis moans lie restores liim to that ercdit and 
 regard anion;; others, wliieh lie docs not know how- 
 to seek, but whieh nevertheless, for the sake both 
 of Ills comfort and usefulness, God wills that he 
 should have ; and vvliich it is, humanly speaking, 
 impossible for him to recover any other way. liut 
 there is something so honourable in the frank 
 acknowledgment of a fault, and a deep lunniliation 
 for it, that all who see it must needs approve it. 
 They pity an ollendcr, v\ ho is brought to such a dis- 
 position ; and endeavour to c-omfort him with return- 
 ing expressions, not only of their love, but also of 
 their esteem. 
 
 § 7. Excuse this digression, which may suit some 
 cases ; and which would suit many more, if a regu- 
 lar discipline v^ere to be exercised in churches. 
 For on sucli a supposition, the Lord's supper could 
 not be approached after visible and scandalous falls, 
 without solenui confession of the offence, and de- 
 clarations of repentance. On the other hand, there 
 may be instances of sad apostasy where the crime, 
 though highly aggravated before God, may not fall 
 under human notice. In this case remember, that 
 your business is with him, to whose piercing eye 
 every thing appears in its just light. Before him 
 therefore prostrate your soul, and seek a solemn re- 
 conciliation with him, confirmed by the memorials 
 of his dying Son. And when this is done, imagine 
 not, that because you have received the tokens of 
 pardon, the guilt of your apostasy is to be forgot at 
 once. Bear it still in your memory for future 
 caution. . Lament it before God, ia the frequent 
 returns of secret devotion especially. And view 
 with humiliation the sears of those wounds which 
 your own folly occasioned, even when by divine 
 grace they are thoroughly healed. For God esta- 
 blishes his covenant, not to remove the sense of 
 every past abomination, but that thou mayest re- 
 member thy ways, and be confounded, and never 
 open thy mouth any more because of thy shame, 
 even when I am pacified tow ards thee for all that 
 thou hast done, saith the Lord. 
 
 § 8. And now, upon the whole, if j^ou desire to 
 attain such a temper, and to return by such steps as 
 these, then immediately fall down before God, and 
 pour out your heart in his presence, in language 
 like this : — 
 
 A Prayer for one ivJio has fallen into yross sip, after 
 religious resolutions and engagements. 
 
 "O MOST Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God! when I 
 seriously rellcct on thy spotless purity, and on the 
 strict and impartial methods of thy steady adminis- 
 tration, together with that almighty power of thine, 
 which is able to carry every thought of thine heart 
 into immediate and full execution, I may justly ap- 
 pear before thee tbi.s day with shame and terror, in 
 
 confusion and consternation of sjiirit. This day, O 
 my God, this tiark mournful day, would I take oc- 
 casion to look back to that sad source of our guilt 
 and our misery, the apostasy of our common parents, 
 andsay, witli thine ollending servant David, Behold, 
 I was sha|)en in ini(|uity, and in sin did uiy mother 
 conceive me ! This day would I lament all the fatal 
 consequences of such <i des<;ent, with regard to my- 
 self. And oh, how many have they been ! The 
 remembrance of the sins of my unconverted state, 
 and the failings and inlirmitics of my after-life, 
 may justly confound me. How much more such a 
 scene as now lies before my conscience, and before 
 thine all-seeing eye ! For thou, O Lord, knowest 
 my foolishness, and my sins are not hid from thee. 
 Thou tellest all my wanderings from thy statutes. 
 Thou secst, and thou rccordcst, every instance of 
 my disobedience to thee, and of my rebellion against 
 thee. Thou scest it in every aggravated circum- 
 stance which I can discern, and in many more 
 which I never observed or reflected upon. How, 
 then, shall I appear in thy presence, or lift up my 
 face to thee ! I am full of confusion, and feel a 
 secret regret in the thought of applying to thee. 
 But, O Lord, to whom should I go, but unto thee ? 
 Unto thee, on whom depends my life or my death ; 
 unto thee, who alone canst take away the burthen 
 of guilt, which now presses me down to the dust ; 
 who alone canst restore to my soul that rest and 
 peace which I have lost, and which I deserve for 
 ever to lose ? 
 
 " Behold me, O Lord God, falling down at thy 
 feet ! Behold me pleading guilty in thy presence, 
 and surrendering myself to that justice whieh I can- 
 not escape ! I have not one word to ofl'er in my own 
 vindication, in my own excuse. Words, far from 
 being able to clear up my innocence, can never suf- 
 ficiently describe the enormity and demerit of my 
 sin. Thou, O Lord, and thou only, knowest to the 
 full, how heinous and how aggravated it is. Thine 
 infinite understanding alone can fathom the infinite 
 depth of its malignity. I am on many accounts 
 most unable to do it. I cannot conceive the glory 
 of thy sacred Majesty, whose authority I have de- 
 spised, nor the number and variety of those mercies 
 which I have sinned against. I cannot conceive 
 the value of the blood of thy dear Son, which I 
 have ungratefully trampled under my feet ; nor the 
 dignity of that blessed Spirit of thine, whose agency 
 I have, as far as I could, been endeavouring to op- 
 pose ; and whose work I have been, as with all my 
 might, labouring to undo, and to tear up (as it 
 were) tliat plantation of his grace, whieh I should 
 rather have been willing to have guarded with my 
 life, and watered v\ith my blood. Oh the baseness 
 and madness of my conduct! that I should thus, as 
 it were, rend open the wounds of my sou*, of which 
 I had died long ere tliis, had not thine own hand 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 applied a remedy, Lad not thine only Son bled to 
 prepare it ! That I should violate the covenant I 
 have made with thee by sacrifice, by the memorials 
 of such a sacrifice too, even of Jesus my Lord, 
 whereby I am become guilty of his body and blood ! 
 That I should bring such dishonour upon religion 
 too, by so unsuitable a walk, and perhaps open the 
 mouths of its greatest enemies to insult it upon my 
 account, and prejudice some against it to their ever- 
 lasting destruction ! 
 
 " I wonder, O Lord God, that I am here to own 
 all this. I wonder that thou hast not long ago ap- 
 peared as a swift witness against me ; that thou 
 hast not discharged the thunderbolts of thy flaming 
 wrath against me, and crushed me into hell : making 
 me there a terror to all about me, as well as to my- 
 self, by a vengeance and ruin, to be distinguished 
 even there, where all are miserable and all hope- 
 less. 
 
 " O God, thy patience is marvellous ! But how 
 much more marvellous is thy grace, which after all 
 this invites me to thee ! WliUe I am here giving 
 judgment against myself, that I deserve to die, to 
 die for ever, thou art sending me the words of ever- 
 lasting life, and calling, me as a backsliding child, 
 to return unto thee. . Behold therefore, O Lord, in- 
 vited by thy word, and encouraged by thy grace, I 
 come ; and great as my transgressions are, I humbly 
 beseech thee freely to pardon them ; because I 
 know, that though my sins have reached unto 
 heaven, and are lifted up even unto the skies, thy 
 mercy, O Lord, is above the heavens. Extend that 
 mercy to me, O heavenly Father ; and display in 
 this illustrious instance, the riches of thy grace, 
 and the prevalency of thy Son's blood ! For surely 
 if such crimson sins as mine may be made white as 
 snow, and as wool, and if such a revolter as I am 
 be brought to eternal glory, earth must, so far as it 
 is known, be filled with wonder, and heaven with 
 praise; and the greatest sinner may cheerfully 
 apply for pardon, if I, the chief of sinners, find it. 
 And oh that, when I have lain mourning, and as it 
 were bleeding, at thy feet, as long as thou thinkcst 
 proper, thou wouldst at length heal this soul of mine 
 which has sinned against tlicc ; and give me beauty 
 for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the gar- 
 ment of praise for the spirit of licaviness! O that 
 thou wouldst at length restore unto me the joy of 
 thy salvation, and make me to hear songs of glad- 
 ness, that the bones which thou hast broken may re- 
 joice ! Then, \\ hen a sense of thy forgiving love is 
 shed abroad upon my heait, and it is cheered with 
 the voice of pardon, I will proclaim thy grace to 
 others ; I will teach transgressors thy ways, and 
 sinners shall be converted unto thee : those that have 
 been backsliding from thee, shall be encouraged to 
 seek thee by my happy experience, which I will 
 gladly proclaim for thy glory, though it be to my 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 87 
 
 own shame and confusion of face. And may this 
 joy of the Lord be my strength ! so that in it I may 
 serve thee henceforward with a vigour and zeal far 
 beyond what I have hitherto known ! 
 
 "This I would ask with all humble submission 
 to thy will ; for I presume not to insist upon it. If 
 thou shouldst see fit to make me a warning to others, 
 by appointing that I should walk all my days in 
 darkness, and at last die under a cloud, thy will be 
 done ! But, O God, extend mercy, for thy Son's sake, 
 to this sinful soul at last ; and give me some place, 
 though it were at the feet of all thine other servants, 
 in the regions of glory ! Oh bring me at length, 
 though it should be through the gloomiest valley 
 that any have ever passed, into that blessed world, 
 where I shall depart from God no more, where I 
 shall wound my own conscience, and dishonour 
 thy holy name, no more ! Then shall my tongue be 
 loosed, how long soever it might lierc be bound 
 under the confusion of guilt ; and immortal praises 
 shall be paid to that victorious blood wliich has re- 
 deemed such an infamous slave of sin, as I must 
 acknowledge myself to be, and brought me, from 
 returns into bondage and repeated pollution, to 
 share the dignity and holiness of those who are 
 kings and priests unto God. Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 The case of the Christian under the hidings of God's 
 face. 
 
 The phrase scriptural, } I. It sij^nifies the withilrawin;; the tokens of 
 the divine favour, J 2. Chiefly as to spiritual considerations, \ 3. 
 This may become the ease of any Christian, } 4. And will be 
 found a very sorrowful one, \ b. 'J'he follow in;^ directions, therefore, 
 are t;iven to those who suppose it to he their own, (I.) To inquire 
 wliether it be indeed a case of spiritual distress, or whether a discon- 
 solate frinie may not proceed Uam itulisposition of body f J (>. Or 
 dilhculties, as to worldly circumstances, \ 7. If it be found to be in- 
 deed such as the title of the chapter proposes, be advised, (2.) To 
 consider it as a merciful dispens;ition of Ood to awaken and bestir the 
 s«iul ; and to excite to a strict examination of cctnscience, and rcforma- 
 tionof what has been amiss, { 8, 9. (3 ) To be humble and patient 
 while the trial continues, \ 10. {^\.) To ;:o on steadily in the way of 
 duty, 5 11. (5.) To renew a believiuK ap[)lication to the blood of Jesus, 
 \ 12 An humble supplication for one luider these mournful exercises 
 of mind, when they are found .to proceed from the spiritual cause 
 supposed. 
 
 § 1. There is a case which often occurs in the 
 Christian life, which they who accustom themselves 
 much to the exercise of devotion, have been Used 
 to call the hiding of God's face. It is a phrase 
 borrowed from the word of God, w hich 1 hope may 
 shelter it from contempt at the first hearing. It will 
 be my business in this chapter, to state it as plainly 
 as I can, and then to give some advice as to your 
 own conduct, when you fall into it, as it is very 
 probable you may, before you have finished your 
 journey through this wilderness. 
 
 § 2. The meaning of it may partly be understood 
 by the opposite phrase, of God's causing his face to 
 shine upon a person, or lifting up upon him the 
 
8S 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 li^ht of his coiintenaTi'-o. Tliis sccnis to cany in it 
 an allusion to liic pleasant and dcli};litrul appear- 
 ance w liii-li the I'ace of a friend lias, and cspcciallv if 
 in a superior relation of life, when he converses with 
 those w hom he loves and delights in. Thus Job, 
 when speaking of the regard paid him by bis at- 
 tendants, says. If I smiled upon them, they believed 
 it not, and the light of my countenance they east 
 not dow n : that is, they were careful in such an 
 agreeable circumstance, to do nothing to displease 
 me, or (as w e speak) to cloud my brow . And David, 
 when expressing his desire of the manifestation of 
 God's favour to him, says, Lord, lift thou up the 
 light of thy countenance upon me ; and as the effect 
 of it, declares, thou hast put gladness into my heart 
 more than if corn and wine increased. Nor is it 
 impossible, that in this phrase, as used by David, 
 there may be some allusion to the bright shining 
 forth of the Shckinah, that is, the lustre which dwelt 
 in the cloud as tlie visible sign of the divine pre- 
 sence w ith Israel, which God was pleased peculiarly 
 to manifest upon some public occasions as a token 
 of his favour and acceptance. — On the other hand, 
 therefore, for God to hide his face, must imply the 
 withholding the tokens of his favour, and must be 
 esteemed a mark of his displeasure. Thus Isaiah 
 uses it : Your iniquities have separated between you 
 and your God, and your sins have hid his face from 
 you, that he «ill not hear. And again. Thou hast 
 hid thy face from us, as not regarding the calamities 
 we suffer, and hast consumed us, because of our 
 iniquities. So likew ise, for God to hide his face from 
 our sins, signifies to overlook them, and to take no 
 further notice of them. The same idea is, at other 
 times, expressed by God's hiding his eyes from 
 persons of a character disagreeable to him, when 
 they come to address him with their petition, not 
 vouchsafing (as it w ere) to look tov^'ards them. This 
 is plainly tlie scriptural sense of the word ; and 
 agreeably to this, it is generally used by Christians 
 in our day, and every thing which seems a token of 
 divine displeasure towards them is expressed by it. 
 
 § 3. It is further to be observed here, that the 
 things which they judge to be manifestations of 
 divine favour towards them, or complacency in them, 
 are not only, nor chiefly, of a temporal nature, or 
 such as merely relate to the blessings of this animal 
 and perishing life. David, though the promises 
 of the law had a continual reference to such, yet 
 was taught to look further, and describes them 
 as preferable to, and therefore plainly distinct 
 from, the blessings of the corn-floor, or the wine- 
 press. And if you, to whom I am now addressing, 
 do not know them to be so, it is plain you are quite 
 ignorant of the subject we are in(]uiring into, and 
 indeed are yet to take out the first lessons of true 
 religion. All that David says, of beholding the 
 beauty of the Lord, or being satisfied as with marrow 
 
 and fatness, when he remend)cred him on his bed, 
 as well as w ith the goodness of his house, even of 
 his holy temple, is to be taken in the same sense, 
 and can need very little explication to the truly 
 experienced soul. But those that have known the 
 light of God's countenance, and the shinings of his 
 face, will, in proportion to the degree of that know- 
 ledge, be able to form some notion of the hiding of 
 his face, or the withdrawing of the tokens he has 
 given his people of his presence and favour, which 
 sometimes greatly imbittcrs prosperity ; as where 
 the contrary is found, it sweetens afflictions, and 
 often swallows up the sense of them. 
 
 § 4. And give me leave to remind you, my Chris- 
 tian friend, (for under that character I now address 
 my reader,) that to be thus deprived of the sense of 
 God's love, and of the tokens of his favour, may soon 
 be the case with you, though you may now have the 
 pleasure to see the candle of the Lord shining upon 
 you, or though it may even seem to be sunshine 
 and high-noon in your soul. You may lose your 
 lively views of the divine perfections and glories, in' 
 the contemplation of which you now find that in- 
 ward satisfaction. You may think of the divine 
 wisdom and power, of the divine mercy and fidelity, 
 as well as of his righteousness and holiness, and 
 feel little inward complacency of soul in the view. 
 It may be, with respect to any lively impressions, 
 as if it were the contempl.ition merely of a common 
 object. It may scern to you as if you had lost all 
 idea of those important words, though the view has 
 sometimes swallowed up your whole soul in trans- 
 ports of astonishment, admiration, and love. You 
 may lose your delightful sense of the divine favour. 
 It may be matter of great and sad doubt with you, 
 whether you do indeed belong to God ; and all the 
 work of his blessed Spirit may be so veiled and 
 shaded in the soul, that the peculiar characters by 
 which the hand of that sacred agent might be dis- 
 tinguished, shall be in a great measure lost, and 
 you may be ready to imagine you have only deluded 
 yourself in all the former hopes you have enter- 
 tained. In consequence of this, those ordinances 
 in which you now rejoice may grow very uncom- 
 fortable to you, even when you do indeed desire com- 
 munion w ith God in them. You may hear the most 
 delightful evangelical truths opened, you may hear 
 the privileges of God's children most affectionately 
 represented, and not be aware that you have any 
 part or lot in the matter ; and from that very cold- 
 ness and insensibility may be drawing a further ar- 
 gument, that you have nothing to do with them. 
 And then your heart may meditate terror, and under 
 the distress that overwhelms you, your dearest en- 
 joyments may be reflected upon as adding to the 
 weight of it, and making it more sensible, while you 
 consider that you had once such a taste for these 
 things, and have now lost it all. So that perhaps it 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 may seem to you, that they who never felt any thing 
 at all of religious impressions are happier than you, 
 or at least are less miserable. You may perhaps, in 
 these melancholy hours, even doubt whether you 
 have ever prayed at all, and whether all that you 
 called your enjoyment of God were not some false 
 delights excited by the great enemy of souls, to 
 make you apprehend that your state was good, that 
 so you might continue his more secure prey. 
 
 § 5. Such as this may be your case for a consider- 
 able time ; and ordiuanees may be attended in vain, 
 and the presence of God may be in vain sought in 
 them. You may pour out your soul in private, and 
 then come to public worship, and find little satis- 
 faction in either ; but be forced to take up the 
 Psalmist's complaint. My God, I cry in the day 
 time, but thou hearest not ; and in the night season, 
 and am not silent : or that of Job, Behold, I go for- 
 ward, but he is not there ; and backward, but I can- 
 not perceive him ; on the left hand, where he doth 
 work, but I cannot behold him ; he hideth himself 
 on Ihe right hand, that I cannot see him. So that 
 all which looked like religion in your mind, shall 
 seem, as it were, to be melted into grief, or chilled 
 into fear, or crushed into a deep sense of your own 
 unworthiness ; in consequence of which, you shall 
 not dare so much as to lift up your eyes before God, 
 and be almost ashamed to take your place in a v, or- 
 shipping assembly, among any that you think his 
 servants. I have known this to be the case of some 
 excellent Christians, whose improvements in re- 
 ligion have been distinguished, and whom God 
 hath honoured above many of their brethren, in 
 what he hath done for them and by them. Give me 
 leave, therefore, having thus described it, to offer 
 you some plain advices with regard to it ; and let 
 not that be imputed to enthusiastic fancy, which 
 proceeds from an intimate and frequent view of 
 facts on the one hand, and from a sincere affection- 
 ate desire, on the other, to relieve the tender, pious 
 heart in so desolate a state. At least, I am per- 
 suaded the attempt will not be overlooked or dis- 
 approved by the great Shepherd of the sheep, who 
 has charged us to comfort the feeble minded. 
 
 § 6. And here I would first advise you most care- 
 fully to inquire. Whether your present distress does 
 indeed arise from causes which are truly spiritual ? 
 Or whether it may not rather have its foundation in 
 some disorder of body, or in the circumstances of 
 life in which you are providentially placed, which 
 may break yonr spirits and deject your mind ? The 
 influence of the inferior part of our nature on the 
 nobler, the immortal spirit, M'hile we continue in 
 this embodied state, is so evident, that no attentive 
 person can, in the general, fail to have observed it; 
 and yet there are eases, in which it seems not to be 
 sufliciently considered ; and perhaps your own may 
 be one of them. The state of the blood is often 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 89 
 
 such as necessarily to suggest gloomy ideas even in 
 dreams, and to indispose the soul for taking plea- 
 sure in any thing. And when it is so, why should 
 it be imagined to proceed from any peculiar divine 
 displeasure, if it does not find its usual delight in 
 religion ? Or why should God be thought to have 
 departed from us, because he sutlers natural causes 
 to produce natural effects, without opposing by 
 miracle to break the connexion ? When this is the 
 case, the help of the physician is to be sought, 
 rather than that of the divine, or at least, by all 
 means, together with it ; and medicine, diet, exer- 
 cise, and air, may in a few weeks effect that, which 
 the strongest reasonings, the most pathetic exhorta- 
 tions or consolations, might for many months have 
 attempted in vain. 
 
 § 7. In other instances, the dejection and feeble- 
 ness of the mind may arise from something uncom- 
 fortable in our worldly circumstances ; these may 
 cloud as well as distract the thoughts, and imbitter 
 the temper, and thus render us, in a great degree, 
 unfit for religious services or pleasures ; and when 
 it is so, the remedy is to be sought in submission to 
 divine Providence, in abstracting our affections as 
 far as possible from the present world, in a prudent 
 care to ease ourselves of the burthen so far as we 
 can, by moderating unnecessary expenses, and by 
 diligent application to business, in humble de- 
 pendence on the divine blessing : in the mean 
 time, endeavouring by faith to look up to him, who 
 sometimes sutlers his children to be brought into 
 such difHculties, that he may endear himself more 
 sensibly to them by the method he shall take for 
 their relief. 
 
 § 8. On the principles here laid down, it may 
 perhaps appear on inquiry, that the distress com- 
 plained of may have a foundation very different 
 from what was at first supposed. But where the 
 health is sound, and the circumstances easy; when 
 the animal spirits are disposed for gaiety and en- 
 tertainment, w hile all taste for religious pleasure is 
 in a manner gone ; whcnjthe soul is seized with a 
 kind of lethargic insensibility, or what I had 
 almost called a paralytic weakness, with respect to 
 every religious exercise ; even though there should 
 not be that deep terrifying distress, or pungent 
 amazement, which I before represented as the effect 
 of melancholy ; nor that anxiety about the accom- 
 modations of life, which strait circumstances na- 
 turally produce: I would in that case vary my 
 advice, and urge you, with all possible attention 
 and impartiality, to search into the cause which 
 has brought upon you that great evil, under which 
 you justly mourn. And probably, in the general, 
 the cause is sin ; some secret sin, which has not 
 been discovered or observed by the eye of the 
 world ; for enormities that draw on them the ob- 
 servation and censure of others, will probably fall 
 
90 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 nnder the case inontionetl in llic fornior chapter, as 
 they imist lie iiislaiiees of known and delibeiate 
 j^uilt. Now tlie eye oi' God hatli seen these evils 
 whicli have escaped tlie notice of your fcllow-crca- 
 tures ; and in consequence of this care to conceal 
 them from others, while you could not but know 
 they were open to liim, God has seen himself in a 
 peculiar manner allrouted, and injured, I had al- 
 most said insulted, by them: and liencc his rif;ht- 
 cous disi)leasure. Oh ! let that never be forgotten, 
 which is so plainly said, so conunonly known, so 
 familiar to almost every religious ear, yet too little 
 • felt by any of our hearts. Your iniquities have se- 
 parated between you and your God, and your sins 
 have hid his face from you, that he will not hear. 
 And this is, on the whole, a merciful dispensation 
 of God, thoncfh it may seem severe ; regard it not, 
 therefore, merely as your calamity, but as intended 
 to awaken you, that you may not content yourself, 
 even with lyinsf in tears of humiliation before the 
 Lord, but, like Joshua, rise and exert yourself 
 vifjorously, to put away from you that accursed 
 things, whatever it be. Let this be your immediate 
 and earnest care, that your pride may be humbled, 
 that your watchfulness may be maintained, that 
 your alfections to the world may be deadened, and 
 that, on the whole, your fitness for heaven may in 
 every respect be increased. These are the designs 
 of your heavenly Father, and let it be your great 
 concern to co-operate with them. 
 
 § 9. Receive it, therefore, on the whole, as the 
 most important advice that can be given you, im- 
 mediately to enter on a strict examination of your 
 conscience. Attend on its gentlest whispers. If a 
 suspicion arises in your mind, that any thing has 
 not been right, trace that suspicion, search into 
 every secret folding of your heart ; improve to tlie 
 purposes of a fuller discovery the advices of your 
 friends, the reproaches of your enemies; recollect 
 for what your heart hath smitten you, at the table 
 of the Lord, for what it would smite you, if you 
 were upon a dying bed, and within this hour to 
 enter on eteniity. When you have made any dis- 
 covery, note it down, and go on in your search till 
 you can say, these are the remaining corruptions of 
 my heart ; these arc the sins and follies of my life ; 
 this have I neglected ; this have I done amiss. 
 And when the account is as complete as you can 
 make it, set yourself in the strength of God to a 
 strenuous reformation, or rather, begin the reform- 
 ation of every thing that seems amiss as soon as 
 ever you discover it : return to the Almighty, and 
 thou slialt be built up, and put iniquity far from 
 thy tabernacle, then shalt thou have thy delight in 
 the Almighty, and shalt lift up thy face unto God. 
 Thou shalt make thy prayer unto him, and he shall 
 hear thee ; thou shalt i)ay thy vows unto him, and 
 his light shall shine upon thy ways. 
 
 § 10. In the mean time, be waiting for God with 
 the deei)cst humility, and submit yourself to the 
 discii)line of your heavenly Father, acknowledging 
 his justice, and hoping in liis mercy : even when 
 your conscience is least severe in its remonstrances, 
 and discovers nothing more than the common in- 
 linnities of God's people ; yet still bow yourself 
 do ^^'n before him, and own, that so many are the 
 evils of your best days, so many the imperfections 
 of your best services, that by them you have de- 
 served all, and more than all, that you suffer ; de- 
 served, not only that your sun should be clouded, 
 but that it should go down, and rise no more, but 
 leave your soul in a state of everlasting darkness. 
 And while the shade continues, be not impatient. 
 Fret not yourself in any wise, but rather, with a 
 holy calmness and gentleness of .soul, wait on the 
 Lord. Be willing to stay his time, willing to bear 
 his frown, in humble hope that he will at length 
 return and have compassion on you. He has not 
 utterly forgotten to be gracious, nor resolved that 
 he will be favourable no more. For the Lord will 
 not cast off for ever ; but though he cause grief, yet 
 will he have compassion according to the multitude 
 of his mercies. It is comparatively but for a small 
 moment that he hides his face from you ; but you 
 may humbly hope, that with great mercies he will 
 gather you, and that with everlasting kindness he 
 will have mercy on you. These suitable words are 
 not mine, but his : and they wear this, as in the 
 very front of them, " That a soul under the hidings 
 of God's face, may at last be one whom he will 
 gather, and to whom he will extend everlasting 
 favour." 
 
 § 11. But while the darkness continues, " go on 
 in the way of your duty." Continue in the use of 
 means and ordinances ; read and meditate ; pray, 
 yes, and sing the praises of God too, though it may 
 be with a heavy heart. Follow the footsteps of his 
 llock ; you may perhaps meet the Shepherd of souls 
 in doing it. Place yourself at least in his way. 
 It is possible you may by this means get a kind 
 look from him ; and one look, one turn of thought 
 which may happen in a moment, may as it were 
 create a heaven in your soul at once. Go to the 
 table of the Lord. If you cannot rejoice, go and 
 mourn there. Go and mourn that Saviour, whom 
 by your sins you have pierced : go and lament the 
 breaches of that covenant, which you have there so 
 often confirmed. Christ may perhaps make himself 
 known unto you in the breaking of the bread ; and 
 you may find, to your surprise, that he hath been near 
 you, when you imagitied he was at the greatest dis- 
 tance from you ; near you, when you thought you 
 were cast out from liis presence. Seek your com- 
 fort in such employments as these ; and not in the 
 vain amusements of the world, and in the pleasures 
 of sense. I shall never forget that affectionate ex- 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 pression, which I am well assured broke out from 
 an eminently pious heart, then almost ready to 
 break under its sorrows of this kind ! " Lord, if I 
 may not enjoy thee, let me enjoy nothing else ; but 
 go down mourning after thee to the grave !" I won- 
 dered not to hear, that almost as soon as this senti- 
 ment had been breathed out before God in prayer, 
 the burthen was taken off, and the joy of God's 
 salvation restored. 
 
 § 12. I shall add but one advice more ; and that 
 is, " that you renew your application to the blood 
 of Jesus, through whom the reconciliation between 
 God and your soul has been accomplished." It is 
 he that is our peace, and by his blood it is that we 
 are made nigh. It is in him, as the beloved of his 
 soul, that God declares, he is well pleased ; and it 
 is in him that we are made accepted to the glory of 
 his grace. Go therefore, O Christian, and apply by 
 faith to a crticified Saviour ; go and apply to him 
 as to a merciful high priest, and pour out thy com- 
 plaint before him, and show before him thy trouble. 
 Lay open the distress and anguish of thy soul to 
 him, who once knew what it was to say, (O astonish- 
 ing ! that he of all others should ever have said it,) 
 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? 
 Look up for pity and relief to him, who himself 
 suifered, being not only tempted, but with regard to 
 sensible manifestations deserted ; that he might 
 thus know how to pity those that are in such a me- 
 lancholy case, and be ready, as well as able, to suc- 
 cour them. He is Immanuel, God with us ; and it 
 is only in and through him, that his Father shines 
 forth upon us with the mildest beams of mercy and 
 love. Let it be therefore your immediate care, to 
 renew your acquaintance with him. Review the 
 records of his life and death : hear his words : be- 
 hold his actions : and when you do so, surely you 
 will find a sacred sweetness diffusing itself over 
 your soul. You will be brought into a calm, gentle, 
 silent frame, in which faith and love will operate 
 powerfully, and God may probably cause the sliil 
 small voice of his comforting Spirit to be heard, till 
 your soul bursts out into a song of praise, and you may 
 be made glad according to the days in which you have 
 Ijcen alllicted. In tlic mean time, such language as 
 the following supplication speaks may be suitable : 
 
 A humble Supplication for one under the hidings of 
 God's face, 
 
 " Blessed God ! with thee is the fountain of life 
 and of happiness. I adore thy name, that I have 
 ever tasted of thy streams ; that I have ever felt 
 the peculiar pleasure arising from tlie liglit of 
 thy countenance, and the slicdding abroad of thy 
 love on my soul. But alas, these delightful seasons 
 arc now to mc no more ; and the remembrance of 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 91 
 
 them engages me to pour out my soul within me. 1 
 would come, as I have formerly done, and call 
 thee, with the same endearment, my Father and my 
 God ; but alas, I know not how to do it. Guilt 
 and fear arise, and forbid the delightful language. 
 I seek thee, O Lord, but I seek thee in vain. I 
 would pray, but my lips are sealed up. I would 
 read thy word, and all the promises of it are veiled 
 from mine eyes. I frequent those ordinances, 
 which have been formerly most nourishing and 
 comfortable to my soul, but alas, they are only the 
 shadows of ordinances ; the substance is gone ; the 
 animating spirit is fled, and leaves them now at 
 best but the image of what I once knew them ! 
 
 " But, Lord, hast thou cast off for ever, and wilt 
 thou be favourable no more ? Hast thou in awful 
 judgment determined, that my soul must be left to 
 a perpetual winter, the sad emblem of eternal dark- 
 ness ! Indeed I deserve it should be so. I acknow- 
 ledge, O Lord, I deserve to be cast away from thy 
 presence with disdain ; to be sunk lower than I am, 
 much lower ; I deserve to have the shadow of death 
 upon mine eyelids, and even to be surrounded with 
 the thick gloom of the infernal prison. But hast 
 thou not raised multitudes, who have deseiTcd like 
 me to be delivered into chains of darkness, to the 
 visions of thy glory above, where no cloud can ever 
 interpose between thee and their rejoicing spirits ? 
 Have mercy upon me, O Lord, have mercy upon 
 me ! and though mine iniquities have now justly 
 caused thee to hide thy face from me, yet be thou 
 rather pleased, agreeably to the gracious language 
 of thy word, to hide thy face from my sins, and to 
 blot out all mine iniquities ! Cheer my heart with 
 the tokens of thy returning favour, and say unto 
 my soul, I am thy salvation ! 
 
 " Remember, O Lord God, remember that dread- 
 ful day, in w hich .Jesus thy dear Son endured w hat 
 my sins have deserved ! Remember that agony in 
 which he poured out his soul before thee, and said, 
 My God, my God, ^.-hy hast thou forsaken me ! Did 
 he not, O Lord, endure all this, that humble peni- 
 tents might through him be brought near unto thee, 
 and might behold thee with pleasure, as their 
 Father, and their God .' Thus do I desire to come 
 unto thee. Blessed Saviour, art thou not appointed 
 to give unto them that mourn in Zion beauty for 
 ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the gannent 
 of praise for the spirit of heaviness ? O wash away 
 my tears, anoint my head with the oil of gladness, 
 and clothe me with the garments of salvation ! 
 
 " Oh that I knew where I might find thee ! Oh 
 that I knew what it is that has engaged fhcc to de- 
 part from me ! I am searching and trying my ways : 
 oh that thou wouldst search me and know my 
 heart, try me and know my thoughts, and if there 
 1)0 any wicked way in mc, discover it, and lead me 
 iu the way everlasting ; in that way, in which I may 
 
92 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 fiml rest and peace for luy soul, ami Feel llu" dis- 
 coveries of thy love in Christ! 
 
 " O God, wlio didst command the li^lit to shine 
 out of darkness, speak but the word, and Iip;ht sliall 
 dart into mv sonl at oiiee ! Open tliou my lips, and 
 my month shall show forth thy praise, shall hurst 
 out into a cheerful sonsi, M hieh shall display before 
 those, «hom my present dejections may have dis- 
 eonrafjed, the pleasures and sujjports of relipjion ! 
 
 " Yet, Lord, on the whole, I submit to thy will. 
 If it is thus that my faith must be exercised, by 
 walkinu; in darkness for days, and months, and years 
 to come, how lonj? soever they may seem, how- lon^ 
 soever they may be, I will submit. Still will I adore 
 thee, as the God of Israel, and tlie Saviour, though 
 thou art a God that hidest thyself: still will I trust 
 in the name of the Lord, and stay myself upon my 
 God ; trusting in thee, though thou slay me ; and 
 'vaiting for thee, more than they that watch for the 
 morning, yea, more than they that watch for the 
 morning. Peradventure in the evening time it may 
 be light. — I know,' that thou hast sometimes mani- 
 fested thy compassions to thy dying servants, and 
 given them, in the lowest ebb of their natural spirits, 
 a full tide of divine glor}% thus turning darkness 
 into light before them. So may it please thee to 
 gild the valley of the shadow of death with the light 
 of thy |)resence, w hen I am passing through it, and 
 to stretch forth thy rod and thy stall" to comfort me, 
 that my tremblings may cease, and the gloom may 
 echo with songs of praise ! But if it be thy sovereign 
 pleasure, that distress and darkness should still 
 continue to the last motion of my pulse, and the 
 last gasp of my breath, oh let it cease with the 
 parting struggle ; and bring me to that light which 
 is sown for the righteous, and to that gladness w liicli 
 is reserved for the upright in heart ; to the uncloud- 
 ed regions of everlasting splendour and joy, where 
 the full anointings of thy Spirit shall be poured out 
 on all thy people, and thou wilt no more hide thy 
 face from any of them ! 
 
 " This, Lord, is thy salvation, for which I am 
 waiting ; and whilst I feel the desires of my soul 
 drawn out after it, I w ill never despair of obtain- 
 ing it. Continue and increase those desires, and at 
 length satisfy and exceed them all, through the 
 riches of thy grace in Christ Jesus. Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 The Christian sti-vt/f/Iiiir/ wider yrent and heavy 
 afflictions. 
 
 Here it is advised, (1.) Tli.it afflictions should be expected, \ I. (2.) 
 That the righteous hand of (iod should be acknoalcd{;cd jri Ihein, 
 when they come, \ 2. (3.) That they should be borne with patience, 
 \ 3. (1.) 'I'liat the divine conduct ui lliem should be cordially ap. 
 proved, } (S ) That thankfulness should be maintained in the 
 
 niidvt of triaN, } 5. (6.) That the design of afflictions should 1« 
 dilii;cntly incpiitctl int<^ and all proper a-vsislance taken in discfpvcr- 
 iufi it, \ (t- (7.) That when it is discovered it shouhl humbly be 
 complied » iUi and answered, {7. A prayer suited to such a case. 
 
 ^ 1. SiNCK man is born unto trouble, as the sparks 
 fly upward, and Adam has entailed on all his race 
 the sad inheritance of calamity in their way to death, 
 it will certainly be iirudent and necessary that we 
 should all expect to meet with trials and afllie- 
 tioiis ; and that you, reader, whoever you are, should 
 be endeavouring to gird on your armour, and put 
 yourself into a posture to encounter those trials 
 which will fall to your lot, as a man and a Chris- 
 tian. Prepare yourself to receive alllictions, and 
 to endure them, in a manner agreeable to both 
 those characters. In this view, when you see others 
 under the burthen, consider how possible it is, that 
 you may be called out to the very same difliculties, 
 or to others etpial to them. — Put your soul as in 
 the place of theirs. Think, how you cotild endure 
 the load under which they lie ; and endeavour at 
 once to comfort them, and to strengthen your own 
 heart; or rather pray that God would do it. And 
 observing how liable mortal life is to such sorrows, 
 moderate your expectations from it ; rai.se your 
 tlioiights above it ; and fonn your schemes of hap- 
 ])iness only for that world, where they cannot be 
 disappointed : in the mean time, blessing God, that 
 your prosperity is lengthened out thus far, and 
 ascribing it to his special providence, that you con- 
 tinue so long unwounded, w hen so many showers of 
 arrows are flying arounil you, and so many are fall- 
 ing by them, on the right hand and on the left. 
 
 § 2. When at length your turn comes, as it cer- 
 tainly will, from the first hour in which an afllietion 
 seizes you, realize to yourself the hand of God in 
 it, and lose not the view of him in any second 
 cause, which may have proved the immediate oc- 
 casion. Let it be your first care to humble your- 
 self under the mighty hand of God, that he may 
 exalt you in due time. Own that he is just in all 
 that is brought upon you, and that in all these 
 things he punishes you less than your iniquities de- 
 serve. Compose yourself to bear his hand with 
 patience, to glorify his name by a submission to 
 his will, and to fall in with the gracious design of 
 this visitation, as well as to wait the issue of it 
 quietly, whatsoever the event may be. 
 
 § .3. Now, that patience may have its perfect 
 work, reflect frequently, and deeply, upon your 
 own meanness and sinfulness. Consider, how often 
 every mercy has been forfeited, and every judgment 
 deserved. And consider too, how long the patience 
 of God hath borne with you, and how wonderfully 
 it is still exerted towards you ; and indeed, not only 
 his patience, but his bounty too. Afllieted as you 
 are, (for I speak to you now as actually under the 
 pressure,) look round and survey your remaining 
 mercies, and be gratefully sensible of them. Make 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 the supposition of tlieir being removed : wJiat if 
 God sliould stretch oat his hand against you, and 
 add poverty to pain, or pain to poverty, or the loss 
 of friends to both ; or the death of surviving friends 
 to that of those whom you are now mourning over ? 
 Would not the wound be more grievous? Adore his 
 goodness tliat this is not the case ; and take heed, 
 lest your unthankfulncss should provoke him to 
 multiply your sorrows. Consider also the need you 
 have of discipline ; how wholesom.e it may prove to 
 your soul, and what merciful designs our heavenly 
 Fatlicr has, in all the corrections he sends upon his 
 children. 
 
 § 4. Nay I will add, that in consequence of all 
 these considerations it may well be expected, not 
 onl}' that you sliould submit to your afllictions as 
 what you cannot avoid, but that you should sw eetly 
 acquiesce in them and approve them ; that you 
 should not only justify, but glorify, God in sending 
 them ; that you should glorify him with your heart, 
 and with your lips too. Think not praise unsuit- 
 able, on such an occasion ; nor think that praise 
 alone to be suitable, which takes its rise from re- 
 maining comforts ; but know that it is your duty, 
 not only to be thankful in your afllictions, but to be 
 thankful on account of them. 
 
 § 5. God himself has said. In every thing give 
 thanks ; and he has taught his servants to say. Yea, 
 also wc glory in tribulation. And most certain it 
 is, that to true believers they are instances of divine 
 mercy ; for whom the Lord loveth he chastenetli, 
 and scourgclh every son whom he receiveth with 
 peculiar and distinguished endearment. View 
 your present alHictions in this light, as chastise- 
 ments of love ; and then let your om n heart say, 
 whether love does not demand praise. Think with 
 yourself, " It is thus flint God is making me con- 
 formable to his own Son ; it is thus that he is train- 
 ing mc up for complete glory. Thus he kills my 
 corruptions; tlius he strengthens my graces; thus 
 he is wisely contriving to bring me nearer to him- 
 self, and to ripen me for the honours of his heavenly 
 kingdom. It is, if need be, that I am in heaviness ; 
 and he surely knows what that need is, better than 
 I can pretend to teach him ; and knows whft pe- 
 culiar properly there is in this aflliction, to answer 
 my present necessity, and do me that peculiar good 
 which he is graciously intending mc by it. This 
 tribulation shall work patience, and patience ex- 
 perience, and experience a more assured hope ; 
 even a hope which shall not make ashamed, while 
 flic love of God is shed abroad in my heart, and 
 shines through my adliction, like the sun through a 
 genllc descending cloud, darting in light upon the 
 shade, and mingling fruitfulncss with weeping." 
 
 § C>. Let it be, then, your earnest care, while you 
 thus look on your aflliclion, whatever it may be, as 
 coming from the hand of God, to improve it to the 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 93 
 
 purposes for which it was sent. And that you may 
 so improve it, let it be your first concern to know 
 what those purposes are. Summon up all the at- 
 tention of your soul to hear the rod, and him who 
 hath appointed it ; and pray earnestly that you may 
 understand its voice. Examine your life, your 
 viords, and your heart; and pray, that God would 
 so guide your inquiries, that you may return unto 
 the Lord that smiteth you. To assist you in this, 
 call in the help of pious friends, and particularly 
 of your ministers ; entreat not only their prayers, 
 but their advices too, as to the probable design of 
 Providence ; and encourage them freely to tell you 
 any thing which occurs to their minds upon this 
 head. And if such an occasion should lead them 
 to touch upon some of the imperfections of your 
 character and conduct, look upon it as a great 
 token of their friendship, and take it, not only 
 patieutl)', but thankfully. It does but ill become a 
 Christian, at any time, to resent reproofs and ad- 
 monitions ; and least of all does it become him 
 when the rebukes of his heavenly Father are upon 
 him. He ought rather to seek admonitions at such 
 a time as this, and voluntarily offer his wounds to 
 be searched by a faithful and skilful hand. 
 
 § 7. And when, by one means or another, you 
 have got a ray of light to direct you in the meaning 
 and language of such dispensations, take heed that 
 you do not, in any degree, harden yourself against 
 God, and walk contrary to him. Obstinate reluct- 
 ance to the apprehended design of any providential 
 stroke is inexpressibly provoking to him. Set 
 yourself, therefore, to an immediate reformation of 
 whatever you discover amiss ; and labour to learn 
 the general lessons, of greater submission to God's 
 will, of a more calm indillcrcnce to the world, and 
 of a closer attachment to di\ ine converse, and to the 
 views of an approaching invisible state. And what- 
 ever particular proportion or correspondence you 
 may observe, between this or that circumstance in 
 your aflliction, and your former transgressions, be 
 especially careful to act according to that more 
 peculiar and express voice of the rod. Then j'ou 
 may perhaps have speedy and remarkable rcasoli to 
 say, that it hath been good for you that you have 
 been aftlicfcd ; and with a multitude of others, 
 may learn to number the limes of your sharpest 
 trials among the sweetest and the most exalted 
 moments of your life. For this purpose, let prayer 
 be your frequent employment; and let such senti- 
 ments as these, if not in the very same terms, be 
 often and aflectionately poured out before God. 
 
 A Inimhle Address to Cod under the pressure of 
 heuvij afflietion. 
 
 " O thou supreme, yet all-righteous and gracious. 
 Governor of the whole universe ! mean and incon- 
 
94 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 .si(loral)lo as lliis lilllc province of thy sjiacious ciii- 
 pire may appt ar, lliou dost not ilisrosartl the eaitli 
 and its inlinbitants, but attcndcst to its concerns 
 with the most condescending and gracious regards. 
 Thou reigncst, and I rejoice in it, as it is indeed 
 matter of universal joy. I believe thy universal 
 providence and care; and I lirndy believe tliy 
 v\ isc. holy, and kind interi)osifiou in every thinf;- 
 which relates to nie, and to the circumstances of 
 iny abode in this world. 1 would look througli all 
 inferior causes unto thee, whose eyes are upon all 
 thy creatures ; to thee, who, formest the light, and 
 Greatest darkness, who makest peace, and createst 
 evil ; to thee. Lord, who at thy pleasure canst ex- 
 change the one for tlie other, canst turn the brightest 
 noon into midnight, and the darkest midnight into 
 noon. 
 
 " O thou wise and merciful Governor of the world ! 
 I have often said, Thy will be done : and now, thy will 
 is painful to me. But shall I, upon that account, 
 unsay what I have so often said ! God forbid ! I come 
 rather to lay myself down at thy feet, and to declare 
 my full and free submission to all thy sacred plea- 
 sure. O Lord, thou art just and righteous in all ! 
 I acknowledge in thy venerable and awful presence, 
 that I have deserved this, and ten thousand times 
 more ; I acknowledge, that it is of thy mercy that I 
 am not utterly consumed, and that any, the least, 
 degree of comfort yet remains. O Lord, I most 
 readily confess, that the sins of one day of niy life 
 have merited all these chastisements; and that eveiy 
 day of my life hath fceen more or less sinful. Smite 
 therefore, O thou righteous Judge ! and I will still 
 adore thee, that instead of the scourge, thou hast not 
 given a commission to the sword, to do all the dread- 
 ful work of justice, and to pour out my blood in 
 thy presence. 
 
 " But shall I speak unto thee only as my Judge ? 
 
 0 Lord, thou hast taught me a tenderer name ; thou 
 condescendest to call thyself my Father, and to 
 speak of correction as the effect of thy love. O 
 welcome, welcome those afllictions, which are the 
 tokens of thy paternal ail'ection, the marks of my 
 adoption into thy family ! Thou knowest what dis- 
 cipline I need. Thou seest, O Lord, that bundle of 
 folly which tlicre is in the heart of thy poor froward 
 and thoughtless child; and knowest what rods and 
 what strokes are needful to drive it away. I would 
 therefore be in humble subjection to the Father of 
 spirits, who chasteneth me for my prolit ; would be 
 in subjection to him and live. I would bear thy 
 strokes, not merely because I catinot resist them, but 
 because I love and trust in thee. I would sweetly 
 acquiesce and rest in thy will, as well as stoop to it; 
 and would say, Good is the word of the Lord. And 
 
 1 desire, that not only my lips, l)ut my soul, may 
 a(;(iuiesce. Yea, Lord, I would praise thee that 
 thou wilt show so mucli regard to me, as to apply 
 
 such remedies as these to the diseases of my mind, 
 audaittlius kindly careful to train meup for glory. I 
 have no objection against being alUicted — against be- 
 ing afflicted in tiiis particular way. The cup which 
 my Father puts into my hand, shall I not drink it? 
 By thine assistance and supjiort I will. Only be 
 pleased, O Lord, to stand by mc, and sometimes to 
 grant me a favourable look in tiie midst of my suf- 
 ferings! Support my soul, I beseech thee, by thy 
 consolations mingled with my tribulations ; and I 
 shall glory in those tribulations that are thus allay- 
 ed ! It has been the experience of many, who have 
 reflected on afllicted days with pleasure, and have 
 acknowledged that their comforts have -swallowed 
 up their sorrows. And after all that thou hast done, 
 are thy mercies restrained ? Is thy hand waxed short ? 
 or canst thou not still do the same for me? 
 
 " If my heart be less tender, less sensible, thou 
 canst cure that disorder, and canst make this afflic- 
 tion the means of curing it. Thus let it be ; and at 
 length, in tliinc own due time, and in the way which 
 thou shall choose, work out deliverance forme ; and 
 show me thy marvellous loving-kindness, O thou 
 that savest by thy right hand them that put their 
 trust in thee ! For I well know, that how dark soever 
 this night of affliction seem, if thou saycst. Let there 
 be light, there shall be light. But I would urge 
 nothing, before the time thy wisdom and goodness 
 shall appoint. I am much more concerned, that my 
 afllictions may be sanctified, than that they may be 
 removed. Number me, O God, among the happy 
 persons, whom, while thou chastenest, thou teachest 
 out of thy law ! Show mc, I beseech thee, wherefore 
 thou contendest with me ; and purify me by the 
 fire, which is so painful to mc, while I am passing 
 through it ! Dost thou not chasten thy children for 
 this very end, that they may be partakers of thy 
 holiness? Thou knowest, O God, it is this my soul is 
 breathing after. I am partaker of thy bounty every 
 day and moment of life ; I am partaker of thy 
 gospel, and I hope, in some measure too, a partaker 
 of the grace of it operating on my heart : O may it 
 operate more and more, that I may largely partake 
 of thy holiness too ; that I may come nearer and 
 nearer in the temper of my mind to thee, O blessed 
 God, the supreme model of perfection ! Let my soul 
 be (as it were) melted, though with the intensest 
 heat of the furnace, if I may but thereby be made 
 fit for being delivered into the mould of thy gospel, 
 and bearing thy bright and amiable image ! 
 
 " O Lord, my soul longctli for thee ; it ericth out 
 for the living God ! In thy presence, and under the 
 support of thy love, I can bear any thing ; and am 
 willing to bear it, if I may grow more lovely in 
 thine eyes, and more meet for thy kingdom. The 
 days of my allliction will have an end ; the hour will 
 at length come, when thou wilt wipe away all my 
 tears. Though it tarry, I would wait for it. My 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 foolish heart, in the midst of all its trials, is ready 
 to grow fond of this earth, disappointing and 
 grievous as it is : and graciously, O God, dost tliou 
 deal with me, in breaking these bonds that would 
 tie me faster to it. O let my soul be girding itself 
 up, and, as it were, stretching its wings, in expec- 
 tation of that blessed hour, when it shall drop all 
 its sorrows and encumbrances at once, and soar 
 away to expatiate with infinite delight in the regions 
 of liberty, peace, and joy ! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 Tlie Christian assisted in examining into his f/rowth 
 in grace. 
 
 Tlie ex.nmination important, \ T. False marks of growth to be avoid, 
 ed, \ 2. True marl^s proposed ; siicli as, fl.) Increasinji; love to God, 
 \ 3. (2.) Benevolence to men, \ 4. (3.) Catidour of disposition, } 5. 
 (4.) Meekness under injuries, 5 6. (5. J Serenity amidst the uncerlain- 
 ties of life, ^7. (6.) Humility, ^ 8. especially as expressed in evan- 
 pelical exercises of mind towards Christ and the Spirit, } 9, (7.) 
 Zeal for the divine honour, \ 10. (8.) Hahilual and i lieerful wilUiiu-- 
 ness to exchange worlds, whenever God shall appoint, 5 II. Con- 
 clusion, } 12. The Christian breathiuy after growth iu grace. 
 
 § 1. If by divine grace you have been born again, 
 not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, even 
 by that word of God which liveth and abideth for 
 ever, not only in the world and the church, but in 
 particular souls in which it is sown; you will, as 
 new-born babes, desire the sincere milk of the 
 word, that you may grow thereby. And though, 
 in the most advanced state of religion on earth, we 
 are but infants in comparison of what we hope to 
 be, wlien in the heavenly world we arrive unto a 
 perfect man, unto the mea.sure of the stature of the 
 fulness of Christ; yet as wc have some exercise of 
 a sanctified reason, we shall l)c solicitous that we 
 may be growing and thriving infants. And you, my 
 reader, if so be you have tasted that the Lord 
 is gracious, will, I doubt not, feel this solicitude. I 
 would, therefore, endeavour to assist you in making 
 the inquiry whether religion be on the advance in 
 your soul. And here I shall warn you against 
 some false marks of growth ; and then shall endea- 
 vour to lay down otlicrs on whicli you may depend 
 as more solid. In this view I would observe, that 
 you are not to measure your growth in grace, only 
 or chiefly by your advances in knowledge, or in 
 zeal, or any other passionate impression of the 
 mind; no, nor by the fervour of devotion alone; 
 but by the habitual determination of the will for 
 God, and by your prevailing disposition to obey his 
 commands, to submit to his disposals, and to sub- 
 serve his schemes in the world. 
 
 § 2. It must be allowed that knowledge and af- 
 fection in religion are indeed desirable. Without 
 some degree of the former, religion cannot be 
 rational ; and it is very reasonable to believe, that 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 95 
 
 without some degree of the latter it cannot be sin- 
 cere, in creatures whose natures are constituted 
 like ours. Yet there may be a great deal of specu- 
 lative knowledge, and a great deal of rapturous af- 
 fection, where there is no true religion at all ; and 
 therefore much more, where there is no advanced 
 state in it. The exercise of our rational faculties, 
 upon the evidences of divine revelation, and upon 
 the declaration of it as contained in Scripture, may 
 furnish a very wicked man with a well digested 
 body of orthodox divinity in his head, when not one 
 single doctrine of it has ever reached his heart. An 
 eloquent description of the sufferings of Christ, of 
 the solemnities of judgment, of the joys of the 
 blessed, and the miseries of the damned, might move 
 the breast even of a man who did not firmly believe 
 them ; as we often find ourselves strongly moved by 
 well-wrought narrations, or discourses, which at the 
 «ame time we know to have their foundation in 
 fiction. Natural constitution, or such accidental 
 causes as are some of them too low to be here men- 
 tioned, may supply the eyes with a flood of tears, 
 which may discharge itself plenteously upon almost 
 any occasion that shall first arise. And a proud 
 impatience of contradiction, directly opposite as it 
 is to the gentle spirit of Christianity, may make a 
 man's blood boil, when he hears the notions he has 
 entertained, and especially those which he has 
 openly and vigorously espoused, disputed and op- 
 posed. This may possibly lead him, in terms of 
 strong indignation, to pour out his zeal and his 
 rage before God, in a fond conceit, that, as the God 
 of truth, he is the patron of those favourite doctrines 
 by whose fair appearances perhaps he himself is 
 misled. .\nd if these speculative refinements, or 
 these affectionate sallies of the mind, be consistent 
 with a total absence of true religion, they are much 
 more apparently consistent with a very low estate 
 of it. I would desire to lead you, my friend, into 
 sublimer notions and juster marks ; and refer you 
 to other practical writers, and above all, to the book 
 of God, to prove how material they are. I would 
 therefore entreat you to bring your own heart to 
 answer, as in the presence of God, to such inquiries 
 as these : 
 
 § 3. Do you find divine love, on the whole, ad- 
 vancing in your soul ? Do you feel yourself more 
 and more sensible of the presence of God ? and 
 does that sense grow more delightful to you than it 
 formerly was? Can you, even when your natural 
 spirits arc weak and low, and you are not in any 
 frame for the ardours and ecstasies of devotion, 
 nevertheless find a pleasing rest, a calm repose of 
 heart, in the thought that God is near you, and that 
 he sees the secret sentiments of your soul ; while 
 you are, as it were, labouring up the hill, and cast- 
 ing a longing eye towards him, though you cannot 
 say you enjoy any sensible communications from 
 
96 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 liim? Is it nsrocable to you to open your luart to 
 his inspection and rojt.-ml, to present it to liini laid 
 bare of every disp;uise, and to say.witli David, Tliou, 
 Lord, kno« est thy servant ? Do you find a growin;; 
 esteem and api)robation of tliat sacred law of God, 
 which is the transcript of his moral perfections ? 
 Do you inwar(!ly esteem all his jirecepts concerning 
 all thin,!?s to be riglit f Do you discern, not only 
 the necessity, but the reasonableness, the beauty, 
 tlie pleasure of obedience ; and feel a j!;rowinf; scorn 
 and contempt of those things wliicli may bo oll'ered 
 as the priec of your innocence, and would tempt 
 you to sacrifice or to hazard your interest in tlic 
 divine favour and friendsliip ? Do you find an in- 
 genuous desire to please GoA ; not only because he 
 is so powerful, and has so many p;ood and so many 
 evil thinp^s entirely at his command, but from a vene- 
 ration of his most amiable nature and character; 
 and do you find your heart habitually reconciled to a 
 most humble subjection, botli to liis commanding- 
 and to his disposing will .' Do you percyivc tliat 
 your own will is now more ready and disposed, in 
 every circumstance, to bear the yoke, and to submit 
 to the divine determination, whatever he appoints 
 to be borne or forborne ? Can you in patience pos- 
 sess your soul ? Can you maintain a more steady 
 calmness and serenity, when God is striking at your 
 dearest enjoyments in this world, and acting most 
 directly contrary to your present interests, to your 
 natural passions and desires ! If you can, it is a 
 most certain and noble sign that grace is grown up 
 in you to a very vigorous state ? 
 
 § 4. Examine also, what affections you find in 
 your heart towards those who are round about you, 
 and towards the rest of mankind in general. — Do 
 you find your heart o\cr(low with undisscaiblcd 
 and unrestrained benevolence ? Are you more sen- 
 sible tlian you once were, of those many endearing 
 bonds, which unite all men, and especially all 
 Christians, into one community ; which make them 
 brethren and fellow-citizens ? Do all the unfriendly 
 passions die and wither in your soul, while the 
 kind social affections grow and strengthen? And 
 though self-love was never the reigning passion 
 since you became a true Christian ; yet, as some 
 remainders of it are still too ready to work in- 
 wardly, and to show themselves, especially as sud- 
 den occasions arise, do you perceive that you get 
 ground of them ? Do you think of yourself only as 
 one of a great number, whose particular interests 
 and concerns are of little importance, when com- 
 pared with those of the community, and ought by all 
 means, on all occasions, to be sacrificed to them? 
 
 § 5. Reflect especially on the temper of your 
 mind towards those, whom an unsanctified heart 
 ni'ight be ready to imagine it had some just excuse 
 for excepting out of the list of those it loves, and 
 towards whom you are ready to feel a secret aversion, 
 
 or at least an alienation from them. — How docs your 
 mind stand alVcctcd towards tiiosc who differ from 
 you in their religious sentiments and practices? I 
 do not say that Christian charity will require you 
 to think every error harmless. It argues no want 
 of love to a friend, in sonic cases to fear lest his 
 disorder should prove more fatal than he seems to 
 imagine ; nay, sometimes, the very tenderness of 
 friendship may increase that apprehension. But 
 to hate persons because we think they arc mistaken, 
 and to aggravate every diflcrcnce in judgment or 
 practice, into a fatal and damnable error that de- 
 stroys all Christian conniiunion and love, is a 
 symptom generally much worse than the evil it con- 
 demns. Do you love the image of Christ in a per- 
 son who thinks himself obliged, in conscience, to 
 profess and worship in a manner different from 
 yourself? Nay, further, can you love and honour that 
 which is truly amiable and excellent in those, in 
 whom much is defective ; in those, in whom there is 
 a mixture of bigotry and narrowness of spirit, which 
 may lead them perhaps to slight, or even to censure, 
 you? Can you love them, as the disciples and ser- 
 vants of Christ, who through a mistaken zeal may 
 be ready to cast out your name as evil, and to warn 
 others against you as a dangerous person? This is 
 none of the least triumphs of charity, nor any des- 
 picable evidence of an advance in religion. 
 
 § 6. And, on this head, reflect further, how can 
 you bear injuries ? — There is a certain hardiness of 
 soul in this respect, which argues a confirmed state 
 in piety and virtue. Does every thing of this 
 kind hurry and ruflle you, so as to put you on con- 
 trivances how you may recompense, or at least how 
 you may disgrace and expose him, who has done 
 you the wrong ? Or can you stand the shock calmly, 
 and easily divert your mind to other objects, only 
 (when you recollect these things) pitying and pray- 
 ing for those who, with the worst tempers and views, 
 arc assaulting you ? This is a Christ-like temper 
 indeed, and he will own it as such ; will own you 
 as oneof his soldiers, as one of his heroes ; especially 
 if it rises so far, as instead of being overcome of 
 evil, to overcome evil with good. Watch over your 
 spirit, and over your tongue, when injuries are 
 offered ; and see whether you be ready to meditate 
 upon them, to aggravate them to yourself, to com- 
 plain of them to others, and to lay on all the load 
 of blame that you in justice can : or, whether you 
 be ready to put the kindest construction upon the 
 offence, to excuse it as far as reason will allow, 
 and (where, after all, it will wear a black and odi- 
 ous aspect) to forgive it, heartily to forgive it, and 
 that even before any submission is made, or par- 
 don asked ; and in token of the sincerity of that 
 forgiveness, to be contriving what can be done, by 
 some benefit or other towards the injurious person, 
 to teach him a better temper. 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 § 7. Examine further, with regard to the other 
 evils and calamities of life, and even with regard to 
 its uncertainties, how you can bear them. — Do you 
 find your soul is in this respect gathering strength .' 
 Have you fewer foreboding fears and disquieting 
 alarms, than you once had, as to what may happen 
 in life? Can you trust the wisdom and goodness 
 of God, to order your affairs for you, with more 
 complacency and cheerfulness than formerly ? Do 
 you find you are able to unite your thouglits more 
 in surveying present circumstances, that you may 
 collect immediate duty from them, though }ou 
 know not what God will next appoint or call you 
 to ? And when you feel the smart of aftlietion, do 
 you make a less matter of it ? Can you transfer 
 your heart more easily to heavenly and divine ob- 
 jects, without an anxious solicitude, whether this 
 or that burthen be removed, so it may but be sanc- 
 tified to promote your communion with God, and 
 your ripeness for glory ? 
 
 ^ 8. Examine also, whether you advance in 
 humility. — This is a silent but most excellent 
 grace ; and they who are most eminent in it, are 
 dearest to God, and most fit for the communications 
 of his presence to them. Do you then feel your 
 mind more emptied of proud and haughty imagin- 
 ations ; not prone so much to look back upon past 
 services, which it has performed, as forward to 
 those which are yet before you, and inward upon 
 the remaining imperfections of your heart ? Do 
 you more tenderly observe your daily slips and 
 miscarriages, and find yourself disposed to mourn 
 over those things before the Lord, that once passed 
 with you as slight matters ; though when you come 
 to survey them as in the presence of God, you find 
 they were not AvhoUy involuntarj', or free from 
 guilt? Do you feel in your breast a deeper appre- 
 hension of the infinite majesty of the blessed God, 
 and of the glory of his natural and moral perfec- 
 tions ; .so as, in consequence of these views, to 
 perceive yourself (as it were) annihilated in his 
 presence, and shrink into less than nothing, and 
 vanity? If this be your temper, God will look 
 upon you with peculiar favour, and will visit you 
 more and more with the distinguishing blessings of 
 his grace. 
 
 ^ 9. But there is another great branch and efi'cet 
 of Christian humility, which it would be an unpar- 
 donable negligence to omit. Let me therefore 
 further inqiiire ; Are you more frequently renew ing 
 your application, your sincere, steady, detenninate 
 application to the righteousness and blood of Christ, 
 as being sensible how unworthy you are to ap|)ear 
 before God, otherwise than in him? And do the 
 remaining corruptions of your heart humble you 
 betbre him, though the disorders of your life are in 
 a great measure cured ? Are you more earnest to 
 obtain the quickening influences of the Holy Spirit ; 
 
 H 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 97- 
 
 and have you such a sense of your own w eakness, 
 as to engage you to depend, in all the duties you 
 perform, upon the communications of his grace to 
 help your infirmities ? Can you, at the close of your 
 most religious, exemplary, and useful days, blush 
 before God for the deficiencies of them, while others 
 perhaps may be ready to admire and extol your 
 conduct? And while you give the glory of ail that 
 has been right to him, from whom the strength and 
 grace has been derived, are you coming to the 
 blood of sprinkling, to free you fromtlie guilt which 
 mingles itself even with the best of your services ? 
 Do you learn to receive the bounties of providence, 
 not only with thankfulness as coming from God, 
 but with a mixture of shame and confusion too, 
 under a consciousness that you do not desei ve them, 
 and are continually forfeiting them? And do you 
 justify Providence in your afllictions and disap- 
 pointments, even while many are flourishing around 
 you in the full bloom of prosperity, whose ofl'ences 
 have been more visible at least, and more notorious 
 than yours ? 
 
 § 10. Do you also advance in zeal and activity 
 for the service of God, and the happiness of man- 
 kind ? Does 3'our love show itself solid and sincere, 
 by a continual How of good works from it ? Can 
 you view the sorrows of others with tender com- 
 passion, and with projects and contrivances what 
 you may do to relieve them ? Do you feci in your 
 breast that you are more frequently devising liberal 
 things, and ready to wave your own advantage or 
 pleasure that you may accomplish them? Do you 
 find your imagination teeming, as it were, with 
 conceptions and schemes, for the advancement of 
 the cause and interest of Christ in the world, for 
 tlie propagation of his gospel, and for the happiness 
 of your fellow-creatures ? And do you not only |)ray, 
 but act, for it ; act in such a manner as to show that 
 you pray in earnest, and fee! a readiness to do what 
 little you can in this cause, even though others, 
 who might if they pleased very conveniently do a 
 vast deal more, will do nothing? 
 
 § 11. And, not to enlarge upon this copious head, 
 reflect once more how your ail'eetions stand, with 
 regard to tliis world, and anotiicr. — Are you more 
 deeply and practically convinced of the vanity of 
 these things w hicli are seen, and are temporal ? Do 
 you perceive your expectations from them, and your 
 attachments to them, to diminish? You are willing 
 to stay in this w orld as long as your Father pleases ; 
 and it is riglit and w ell : but do you find your bonds 
 so loosened to it, that you are willing, heartily will- 
 ing, to leave it at the shortest warning ; so that if 
 (Jod should sec fit to summon you away on a sud- 
 den, though it should be in the midst of your enjoy- 
 ments, pursuits, expectations, and hopes, you would 
 cordially consent to that remove ; without saying, 
 " Lord, let me stay a little longer, to enjoy this 
 
98 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 or tliut asjrccablc entertainment, to finish this 
 or that sehenie Can jou think with an liabitiial 
 calmness and liearty approbation, if such l)e the di- 
 vine pleasure, of wakina; no more when you lie down 
 on your bed, of returiiins!; home no more when you 
 out of your house ? And jet, on tlie other hand, liow 
 great soever the burthens of life are, do you find a 
 willinijness to bear tliem, in submission to the will 
 of your heavenly Father, though it should be to 
 many future years ; and tliouf^h they should be 
 years of far greater afllietion tiian you have ever 
 yet seen ? Can you say calmly and steadily, if not 
 with such overflowings of tender aflcctions as you 
 could desire, " Behold thy servant, thy child, is in 
 thy hand, do with me as seemeth good in thy 
 sight ! My will is melted into thine, to be lifted up 
 or laid down, to be carried out or brought in, to be 
 here or there, in this or that circumstance, just as 
 thou pleascst, and as shall best suit with lliy great 
 extensive plan, which it is impossible that I, or all 
 the angels in heaven, should mend." 
 
 § 12. These, if I understand matters aright, are 
 some of the most substantial evidences of growth 
 and establishment in religion. Search after them ; 
 bless God for them, so far as you discover them in 
 yourself; and study to advance in them daily, un- 
 der the influences of divine grace, to which 1 
 heartily recommend you, and to which I entreat 
 you frequently to recommend yourself. 
 
 T/ie Christian hreathiny earnestly nfter yrowth in 
 f/race. 
 
 " O THOU ever-blessed Fountain of natural and 
 spiritual life ! I thank thee that I live, and know 
 the exercises and pleasures of a religious life. I 
 bless thee, that thou hast infused into me thine own 
 vital breath, though I was once dead in trespasses 
 and sins ; so that I am become, in a sense peculiar 
 to thine own children, a living soul. But it is mine 
 earnest desire, that I may not only live, but grow ; 
 grow in grace, and in the knowledge of my Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ, upon an acquaintance 
 with whom my progress in it so evidently depends. 
 In this view, I humbly entreat thee, that thou wilt 
 form my mind to right notions in religion, that I 
 may not judge of grace by any wrong conceptions 
 of it, nor measure my advances in it by those tilings 
 which are merely the effects of nature, and proba- 
 bly its corrupt effects. 
 
 " May I be seeking after an increase of divine 
 love to thee, my God and Father in Christ, of un- 
 reserved resignation to thy wise and holy will, and 
 of extensive benevolence to my fellow-creatures ! 
 May I grow in patience and fortitude of soul, in 
 humility and zeal, in spirituality and a heavenly 
 disposition of mind, and in a concern, that whether 
 present or absent I may be accepted of the Lord, 
 
 that whether I live or die it may be for his glory ! 
 In a word, as thou knowest I hunger and thirst 
 after righteousness, make me whatever thou wouldst 
 delight to sec njc ! Draw on my soul, by tiie gentle 
 influences of thy gracious Spirit, every trace and 
 every feature, which thine eye, O heavenly Father, 
 may survey with pleasure, and which thou mayst 
 acknowledge as thine own image ! 
 
 " I am sensible, O Lord, 1 have not as yet at- 
 tained ; yea, my soul is utterly confounded to 
 think how far I am from being already perfect: 
 but this one thing (after the great example of thine 
 apostle, and the much greater of his Lord) I would 
 endeavour to do ; forgetting the things which are 
 behind, I would press forward to tiiose which are 
 before. Oh that tliou wouldst feed my soul by thy 
 word and Spirit! Having been, as I humbly hope 
 and trust, regenerated by it, being born again, not 
 of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, even by 
 thy word which liveth and abideth for ever, as a 
 new-born babe I desire the sincere milk of the word, 
 that I may grow thereby. And may my profiting 
 appear unto all men, till at length I come unto a 
 perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the 
 fulness of Christ ; and after having enjoyed the 
 pleasures of those that flourish eminently in thy 
 courts below, be fixed in the paradise above ! I 
 ask and hope it through him, of whose fulness we 
 have all received, even grace for grace : to him be 
 glory, both now and for ever! Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 T/ie advanced Christian reminded of the mercies of 
 God, and exhorted to the exercises of habitual 
 love to him, and joy in him. 
 
 \ lioly joy in God, our privilege as well as our duty, } I. Tlie Cliris. 
 tian invited to the exercise of it, \ 2. (I.) P>y the represeiit:itiou of 
 temporal mercies, { 3. (2.) By tlie consideration of spiritual favours, 
 { 4. (3.) By the views of eternal happiness, } .1. And, (4.) Of tlie 
 mercies of Ood to others, the living* and the dead, \ 6. The chapter 
 closes with an exhortation to this heavenly exercise, \ 7. And with 
 an example of the genuine working;s of this grateful joy in Gud. 
 
 ^ 1. I WOULD now suppose my reader to find, on an 
 examination of his spiritual state, that he is grow- 
 ing in grace. And if you desire that this growth 
 may at once be acknowledged and promoted, let me 
 call your soul to that more afl'ectionate exercise of 
 love to God and joy in him, which suits, and 
 strengthens, and exalts the character of the advanced 
 Christian ; and which I beseech you to regard, not 
 only as your privilege, but as your duty too. Love 
 is the most sublime, generous principle of all true 
 and acceptable obedience ; and with love, when so 
 wisely and happily fixed, when so certainly returned, 
 joy, proportionable joy /must naturally be connected. 
 It may justly grieve a man that enters into the spirit 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 of Christianity, to see how low a life the generality 
 even of sincere Christians commonly live in this 
 respect. Rejoice then in the Lord, ye righteous, 
 and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness, 
 and of all those other perfections and glories, which 
 are included in that majestic, that wonderful, that 
 delightful name, the Lord thy God ! Spend not your 
 sacred moments merely in confession, or in peti- 
 tion, though each must have their daily share ; but 
 give a part, a considerable part, to the celestial and 
 angelic work of praise. Yea, labour to carry about 
 with you continually a heart overflowing with such 
 sentiments, warmed and inflamed with such affec- 
 tions. 
 
 § 2.~ Are there not continually rays enough diffused 
 from the great Father of light and love to enkindle it 
 in our bosom ? Come, my Christian friend and bro- 
 ther, come and surv ey w ith me the goodness of our 
 heavenly Father ; and O that he would give me 
 such a sense of it, that I might represent it in a 
 suitable manner ; that while I am musing the fire 
 may burn in my own heart, and be communicated 
 to yours ! And O that it might pass with the lines 
 I write, from soul to soul ; awakening in the breast 
 of every Christian that reads them, sentiments more 
 worthy of the children of God, and the heirs of 
 glory ; who are to spend an eternity in those sacred 
 exercises, to which I am now endeavouring to 
 excite you ! 
 
 § 3. Have you not reason to adopt the words of 
 David, and say. How many arc thy gracious 
 thoughts unto me, O Lord ! how great is the sum of 
 them ! When I would count them they are more in 
 number than the sand. You indeed know where to 
 begin the survey ; for the favours of God to you be- 
 gan witli your being. Commemorate it, therefore, 
 with a grateful heart, that the eyes which saw your 
 substance, being yet imperfect, beheld you witli a 
 friendly care, when you were made in secret, and 
 have watched over you over since ; and that the 
 hand, which drew the plan of your members, when 
 as yet there was none of them, not only fashioned 
 them at first, but from that time has been concerned 
 in keeping all your bones, so that not one of them 
 is broken, and that, indeed, it is to this you owe it 
 fliat you live. Look back upon the patii you have 
 trod, from the day that God brought you out of the 
 womb, and say, whether you do not, as it were, see 
 all the road thick-set with the marks and memorials 
 of the divine goodness. Recollect the places where 
 you have lived, and the persons with whom you 
 have most intimately conversed; and call to mind 
 the mercies you have received in those places, and 
 from those persons, as the instruments of the divine 
 care and goodness. Recollect the difficulties and 
 dangers, with which you have been surrounded ; and 
 renect attentively on what God hath done to defend 
 you from them, or to carry you through them. Think, 
 H 2 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 99 
 
 how often there has been but a step between you 
 and death ; and how suddenly God hath sometimes 
 interposed to set you in safety, even before you ap- 
 prehended your danger. Think of those chambers of 
 illness, in which you have been confined, and from 
 whence perhaps you once thought you should go 
 forth no more ; but said, with Hezekiah, in the 
 cutting off of your days, I shall go to the gates of the 
 grave ; I am deprived of the residue of niy years. 
 God has, it may be, since that time added many 
 years to your life ; and you know not how many 
 may be in reserve, or how much usefulness and 
 happiness may attend each. Survey your circum- 
 stances in relative life ; how many kind friends are 
 surrounding you daily, and studying how they may 
 contribute to your comfort. Reflect on those re- 
 markable circumstances in providence, which occa- 
 sioned the knitting of some bonds of this kind, 
 which, next to those which join your soul to God, 
 you number among the happiest. And forget not 
 in how many instances, when these dear lives have 
 been threatened, lives perhaps more sensibly dear 
 than your own, God has given them back from the 
 borders of the grave, and so added new endearments, 
 arising from that tender circumstance, to all your 
 after-converse with them. Nor forget in how gra- 
 cious a manner he hath supported some others in 
 their last moments, and enabled them to leave be- 
 hind a sweet odour of piety, which hath embalmed 
 their memories, revived you when ready to faint 
 under the sorrows of the first separation, and, on 
 the whole, made even the recollection of their death 
 delightful. 
 
 § 4. But it is more than time, that I lead on your 
 thoughts to the many spiritual mercies which God 
 hath bestowed upon you. Look back, as it were, to 
 the rock from whence you were hewn, and to the 
 hole of the pit from whence you were digged. Re- 
 flect seriously on the state wherein divine grace 
 found you ; under how much guilt ; under how 
 much pollution! In what danger; in what ruin! 
 Think what was, and oh think, with yet deeper re- 
 flection, what would have been, the case ! The eye 
 of God, which penetrates info eternity, saw what 
 your mind, amused with the trilles of the present time 
 and sensual gratification, was utterly ignorant and 
 regardless of: it saw you on the borders of eternity, 
 and pitied you ; saw, that you would in a little time 
 have been such a helpless, wretched creature, as 
 the sinner that is just now dead, and has, to his in- 
 finite surprise and everlasting terror, met his unex- 
 pected doom, and would, like him, stand thunder- 
 struck in astonishment and despair. This God 
 saw, and he pitied you ; and being merciful t<» you, 
 he provided in the counsels of his eternal love and 
 grace a Redeemer for you, and purchased you to 
 himself with the blood of his Son : :i price which, if 
 you will pause upon it, and think seriously what it 
 
100 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 was, must suioly atlVct vou to suc h a dofjroe, as to 
 make jou fall ilowii before God in wonder and 
 shame, to think, that it should ever have been given 
 for you. To aeeouiplish these blessed purposes, lie 
 sent his grace into your heart, so that tliough you 
 were once darkness, you are nmv li»lit in tlie Lord. 
 He made that happy change winch you now feel in 
 your soul, and by his Holy Spirit which is given to 
 you. he sheds al)road tiiat principle of love wliieh is 
 enkindled by this review, and now llanies with 
 greater ardour than before. Thus far he hath sup- 
 ported you in your Christian course ; and having 
 obtained help from him, it is that you continue even 
 to this day. He hath not only blessed you, but 
 made you a blessing: and though yoii have not 
 been so useful as that holy generosity of heart whicli 
 he has excited would have engaged you to desire, 
 yet some good you have done in the station in which 
 he has fixed you. Some of your brethren of man- 
 kind have been relieved, perhaps too some thought- 
 less creature reclaimed to virtue and happiness, by 
 his blessing on your endeavours. Some in the way 
 to heaven are praising God for you ; and some, per- 
 haps, already there, arc longing for your arrival, 
 that they may thank you in nobler and more ex- 
 pressive forms for benefits, the importance of which 
 they now sufliciently understand, though while here 
 they could never conceive it. 
 
 § 5. Christian, look round on the numberless 
 blessings, of one kind and of another, with which 
 you are already encompassed ; and advance your 
 prospect still further, to what faith yet discovers 
 within the veil. Think of those now unknown 
 transports with which thou shalt drop every burthen 
 in the grave, and thy immortal spirit shall mount 
 light and joyful, holy and happy, to God, its original, 
 its support, and its hope ; to God, the .source of 
 being, of holiness, and of pleasTire ; to Jesus, through 
 whom all these blessings are derived to thee, and wlio 
 will appoint thee a throne near to his own, to be for 
 ever the spectator and partaker of his glory. Think 
 of the rapture with which thou shalt attend his tri- 
 umph in the resurrection day, and receive this poor 
 mouldering corruptible body transformed into his 
 glorious image; and then think, " These hopes are 
 not mine alone, but the hopes of thousands and 
 millions. Multitudes, whom I number among the 
 dearest of my friends upon earth, are rejoicing with 
 mc in these apprehensions and views ; and God 
 gives me sometimes to see the smiles on their cheeks, 
 the sweet humble hope that sparkles in their eyes, 
 and shines through the tears of tender gratitude ; 
 and to hear that little of their inward complacciicy 
 and joy, which language can express. Yea, and 
 multitudes more, who were once equally dear to mc 
 with these, though I have laid them in the grave, 
 and wept over their dust, are living to God, living 
 in the possession of inconceivable delights, and 
 
 diinking large draughts of tlic wafer of life, which 
 Hows in perjictual streams at his right hand." 
 
 § 6. O Christian, tliou art still intimately united 
 and allied to them. Death cannot bn-ak a friend- 
 ship thus cemented, and it ought not to render thee 
 insensible of the happiness of those fiiends, for 
 whose memory thou retainest so just an honour. 
 Tiicy live to God as his servants ; they serve him, 
 and sec his face ; and they make but a small jiart 
 of tliat glorious assembly. Millions equally worthy 
 of thy esteem an<l affection with themselves, in- 
 habit those blissful regions; and wilt thou not re- 
 joice in their joy .' And wilt thou not adore that 
 everlasting spring of holiness and happiness from 
 whence each of these streams is derived ; yea, I 
 will add, while the blessed angels arc so kindly re- 
 garding us, while they are ministcwng to thee, O 
 Christian, and bearing thee in their arms as an heir 
 of salvation, wilt thou not rejoice in their felicity 
 too; and wilt thou not adore that God who gives 
 them all the superior glory of their more exalted 
 nature, and gives them a heaven which fills them 
 with blessedness, even while they seem to withdraw 
 from it that they may attend on thee ? 
 
 § 7. This, and infinitely more than this, the bless- 
 ed God is, and was, and shall ever be. The felici- 
 ties of the blessed spirits that surround his throne, 
 and thy felicities, O Christian, arc immortal. These 
 heavenly luminaries shall glow with an undecaying 
 flame, and thou shalt shine and burn among them, 
 when the sun and the stars are gone out. Still shall 
 the unchanging Father of lights pour forth his 
 beams upon them ; and the lustre they reflect from 
 him, and their happiness in him, shall be everlast- 
 ing, shall be ever-growing ! Bow down, O thou 
 child of God, thou heir of glory ! bow down, and 
 let all that is within thee unite in one act of grate- 
 ful love ; and let all that is around thee, all that is 
 before tliee in the prospects of an unbounded eter- 
 nity, concur to elevate and transport thy soul ; that 
 thou mayst, as far as possible, begin the work and 
 blessedness of heaven, in falling down before the 
 God of it, in opening thy heart to his gracious in- 
 fluences, and in breathing out before him that in- 
 cense of praise, which these warm beams of his 
 presence and love have so great a tendency to pro- 
 duce, and to ennoble with a fragrancy resembling 
 that of his paradise above. 
 
 The (jralefnl soul rejoicuiy in the hlessiiif/s of pro- 
 virk'Hce and grace, and -pouring out itself before 
 God in vigorous and affectionate exercises of love 
 and praise. 
 
 '* O MY God, it is enough ! I have mused, and the 
 fire burneth ! But oh, in what language shall the 
 flame break forth ! What can I say but this, that 
 my heart admires thee, and adores thee, and loves 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 thee ! My little vessel is as full as it can hold ; and 
 I would pour out all that fulness before thee, that 
 it may grow capable of receiving more and more. 
 Thou art my hope and my help ; my glory and the 
 lifter up of my head. My heart rejoiceth in thy 
 salvation ; and when I set myself, under the influ- 
 ences of thy good Spirit, to converse with thee, a 
 thousand delightful thoughts spring up at once ; a 
 thousand sources of pleasure are unsealed, and flow 
 in upon my soul with such refreshment and joy, that 
 they seem to crowd into every moment the happi- 
 Hess of days, and weeks, and months. 
 
 " I bless thee, O God, for this soul of mine, which 
 thou bast created ; which thou bast taught to say, 
 and I hope to the happiest purpose. Where is God 
 my Maker ? I bless thee for the knowledge with 
 which thou hast adorned it. I bless thee for that 
 grace, with which I trust I may (not without humble 
 wonder) say, thou hast sanctified it ; though alas, 
 the celestial plant is fixed in too barren a soil, and 
 does not flourish to the degree I could wish. 
 
 " I bless thee also for that body which thou hast 
 given me, and which thou preservest as yet in its 
 strength and vigour ; not only capable of relishing 
 the entertainments v.hich thou providest for its va- 
 rious senses, but (which I esteem far more valuable 
 than any of them for its own sake) capable of acting 
 with some vivacity in thy service. I bless thee for 
 that ease and freedom with which these limbs of 
 mine move themselves, and obey the dictates of my 
 spirit, I hope as guided by thine. I bless thee that 
 the keepers of the house do not yet tremble, nor the 
 strong men bow themselves ; that they that look out 
 of the windows are not yet darkened, nor the daugh- 
 ters of music brought low: I bless thee, O God of 
 my life, that the silver cords are not yet loosed, nor 
 the golden bow 1 broken. For it is thy hand that 
 braces all my nerves, and thine infinite skill that 
 prepares those spirits, which flow in so freely, and 
 when exhausted, recruit so soon and so plentifully. 
 
 " I praise thee for that royal bounty, with which 
 thou providest for the daily support of mankind in 
 general, and for mine in particular ; for the various 
 talde which thou spreadest before me, and for the 
 overflowing cup which thou puttest into my hands. 
 I bless thee, that these bounties of thy providence 
 do not serve, as it were, to upbraid a disabled 
 appetite, and are not like messes of meat set before 
 the dead. I bless thee too, that I eat not my morsel 
 alone, but share it with so many agreeal)le friends, 
 wlio add the relish of a social life to that of the 
 animal, at our seasons of common repast. — I tliank 
 tliee for so many dear relatives at home ; for so 
 many kind friends abroad, who arc capable of 
 serving me in various instances, and disposed to 
 make an obliging use of that capacity. 
 
 " Nor would I forget to acknowledge thy favour, 
 in rendering me capable of serving others, and 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 101 
 
 giving me in any instances to know, how much 
 more blessed it is to give than to receive. I thank 
 thee for a heart which feels the sorrows of the ne- 
 cessitous, and a mind which can make it my early 
 care and refreshment to contrive, according to my 
 little ability, for their relief. For this also cometh 
 fortli from thee, O Lord, the great autiior of every 
 benevolent inclination, of every prudent scheme, of 
 every successful attempt to spread happiness around 
 us, or in any instance to lessen distress. 
 
 " And surely, O Lord, if I thus acknowledge the 
 pleasures of sympathy with the afflicted, much more 
 must I bless thee for those of sympathy with the 
 happy, with those that are completely blessed. I 
 adore thee for the streams that water paradise, and 
 maintain it in ever-flourishing, ever-growing de- 
 light. I praise thee for the rest, the joy, the trans- 
 port, thou art giving to many that were once dear 
 to me on earth ; whose sorrows it was my labour ta 
 soothe, and whose joys, especially in thee, it was 
 the delight of my heart to promote. I praise thee 
 for the blessedness of every saint, and of every 
 angel, that surrounds thy throne above ; and I 
 praise thee with accents of distinguished pleasure, 
 for that reviving hope which thou hast implanted 
 in my bosom, tliat I shall ere long know by clear 
 sight, and by everlasting experience, what that 
 felicity of theirs is, which I now only discover at a 
 distance, through the comparatively obscure glass 
 of faith. Even now, through thy grace, do I feel 
 myself borne forward by thy supporting arm to 
 those regions of blessedness. Even now am I wait- 
 ing for thy salvation, with that ardent desire, on 
 the one hand, which its sublime greatness cannot 
 but inspire into the believing soul, and that calm 
 resignation, on the other, which the immutability 
 of thy promise establishes. 
 
 " And now, O my God, what shall I say unto 
 thee? what, but that I love thee above all the 
 powers of language to express ? That I lo^ e thee for 
 what thou art to thy creatures, avIio are, in their 
 various forms, every moment deriving beitig, know- 
 ledge, and happiness, from thee, in numbers and 
 degrees far beyond what my narrow imagination 
 can conceive. But oh, I adore and love thee yet 
 far more, for what thou art in thyself, for those 
 stores of perfection which creation has not diminish- 
 ed, and which can never be exhausted by all the 
 effects of it which thou impartest to thy creatures ; 
 that infinite perfection, which makes thee thine 
 own happiness, thine own end ; amiable, infinitely 
 amiable and venerable, were all derived excellence 
 and happiness forgot. 
 
 " O thou first, thou greatest, thou fairest of all 
 objects! thou only great, thou only fair, possess 
 all my soul ! And surely thou dost possess it. 
 VVIiile I thus feel thy sacred Spirit breathing on my 
 heart, and exciting these fervours of love to thee, I 
 
TH*E RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 i-iiniiot doul)t it any more, tlian I ran doubt tlie 
 reality of this animal life, while I exert the aetin^s 
 of it, and feel its sensations. Surely, if ever I knew 
 the appetite of hunger, my soul hiinjjers after 
 righteousness, and lon^s for a <^reater conformity to 
 thy blessed nature and holy will. If ever my palate 
 felt thirst, my soul thirsteth for God, even for the 
 livinfj fJod, and pantcth for the more abundant 
 eonimunieation of his favour. If ever this body, 
 when wearied w ith labours or journeys, knew what 
 it was to wish for the refreshment of my bed, and 
 rejoieed to rest there, my soul, with sweet aequi- 
 eseenee, rests upon thy gracious bosom, O my 
 heavenly Father, and returns to its repose in the 
 embraces of its God, who hath dealt so bountifully 
 with it. And if ever I saw tlie face of a beloved 
 friend with complacency and joy, I rejoice in be- 
 holding tliy face, O Lord, and in calling thee my 
 Father in Christ. Such thou art, and such thou 
 wilt be, for time and for eternity. What have I 
 more to do, but to commit myself to thee for both ? 
 Leaving it to thee to choose mine inheritance, and 
 to order my affairs for me, while all my business is 
 to serve thee, and all my delight to praise thee. 
 My soul follows hard after God, because his right 
 hand upholds me.~ Let it still bear me up, and I 
 shall press on towards thee, till all my desires be 
 accomplished in the eternal enjoyment of thee ! 
 Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 The established Christian iirt/rrl to exert himself for 
 purposes of usefulness. 
 
 A .sincere love to G.)d will express itself, not only in devotion, but in 
 l)enevoleii. e to men, } I, 2, This is tlie oomniaiid of God, } 3. The 
 true Christian feels his soul wrought to a holy conformity to it, 5 4. 
 Ami tlierefure will desire instruction on tliis head, \ 5. Accordingly, 
 directions are fjiven for the improvement of various talents : par. 
 ticularly, (I.) Genius and learning, 5 G. (2.) Power, } 7. (.1) Do- 
 mestic authority, } H. (4.) ICsleein, 5 y. (5.) Iticlies, { 10. Several 
 good ways of employing them hinted at, ? 11. I'mdeme in ex|)eiise 
 urged, for the support of charity, \ 12, 13. Divine dircclion in this 
 respect to be souglit, } 14. The Christian breathing after more ex. 
 tensive usefuloess. 
 
 § 1. Such as I have described in the former chap- 
 ter, I trust, are and will be the frequent exercises 
 of your soul before God. Thus will your love and 
 gratitude breathe itself forth in the divine presence, 
 and will, through .lesus the great mediator, come 
 up before it as incense, and yield an acceptable 
 savour. But then, you must remember, this will 
 not be the only effect of that love to God, which I 
 have supposed so warm in your heart. If it be 
 sincere, it will not spend itself in words alone ; but 
 will discover itself in actions, and will produce, as 
 its genuine fruit, an unfeigned love to your fellow- 
 creatures, and an unwearied desire and labour to 
 do them good continually. 
 
 § 2. " Has the great Father of mercies," will you 
 say, " looked upon me with so gracious an eye ; has 
 he not only forgiven me ten thousand offences, but 
 enriched me with such a variety of benefits? O what 
 shall I render to him for them all ! Instruct me, O 
 ye oracles of eternal truth ! Instruct me, ye elder 
 brethren in the family of my heavenly Father! In- 
 .struct me, above all, O thou Spirit of wisdom and 
 of love, what I may be able to do, to express my 
 love to the great eternal Fountain of love, and 
 to approve my fidelity to him who has already done 
 so much to engage it, and who will take so much 
 pleasure in owning and rewarding it !" 
 
 § 3. This, O Christian, is the command which we 
 have heard from the beginning, and it will ever 
 continue in unimpaired force, that he who loveth 
 God, should love his brother also; and should ex- 
 press that love, not in word and profession alone, 
 but in deed and in truth. You are to love your 
 neighbour as your.self; to love the whole creation 
 of God, and, so far as your influence can extend, 
 must endeavour to make it happy. 
 
 § 4. " Yes," will you say, " and I do love it. I 
 feel the golden chain of divine love encircling 
 us all, and binding us close to each other, joining 
 us in one body, and diffusing as it were one soul 
 through all. May happiness, true and sublime, 
 perpetual and ever-growing happiness, reign through 
 the whole world of God's rational and obedient 
 creatures, in heaven and on earth ! and may every 
 revolted creature, that is capable of being recovered 
 and restored, be made obedient ! Yea, may the ne- 
 cessary punishment of those, who are irrecoverable, 
 be overruled by infinite wisdom and love to the good 
 of the whole !" 
 
 § 5. These are right sentiments ; and if they are 
 indeed the sentiments of your heart, O reader, and 
 not an empty form of vain words, they will be at- 
 tended with a serious concern to act in subordina- 
 tion to this great scheme of divine Providence, 
 according to your abilities, in their utmo.st extent. 
 And to this purpose, they will put you on surveying 
 the peculiar circumstances of your life and being; 
 that you may discover what opportunities of useful- 
 ness they now afford, and how these opportunities 
 and capacities may be improved. Enter therefore 
 into such a survey ; not that you may pride yourself 
 in the di.stinction of divine Providence or grace 
 towards you, or having received, may glory as if 
 you had not received ; but that you may deal faith- 
 fully with the gieat Proprietor, whose steward you 
 are, and by whom you are intrusted with every 
 talent, which, with respect to any claim from your 
 fellow-creatures, you may call your own. And 
 here, having gifts didering according to the grace 
 that is given to us, let us hold the balance with 
 an impartial hand, that so we may determine what 
 it is that God requires of us ; which is nothing 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 less, than doing the most we can invent, contrive, 
 and effect, for the general good. But oh, how sel- 
 dom is this estimate faithfully made ! and how 
 much does the world aroui.d us, and how much 
 do our own souls suffer, for want of that fidelity ! 
 
 § 6. Hath God given you genius and learning ? It 
 was not that you might amuse or deck yourself 
 with it, and kindle a blaze which should only serve 
 to attract and dazzle the eyes of men. It was in- 
 tended to be the means of leading both yourself and 
 them to the Father of lights. And it will be your 
 duty, according to the peculiar turn of that genius 
 and capacity, either to endeavour to improve and 
 adorn human life, or by a more direct application 
 of it to divine subjects, to plead the cause of re- 
 ligion, to defend its truths, to enforce and recom- 
 mend its practice, to deter men from courses whicli 
 would be dishonourable to God and fatal to them- 
 selves, and to try the utmost efforts of all the 
 solemnity and tenderness with which you can clothe 
 your addresses, to lead them into the paths of virtue 
 and happiness. 
 
 § 7. Has God invested you with power, whether 
 it be in a larger or smaller society ? Remember 
 that this power was given you that God might be 
 honoured, and those placed under your government, 
 whether domestic or public, might be made happy. 
 Be concerned therefore, that whether you be in- 
 trusted with the rod or the sword, it may not be borne 
 in vain. Are you a magistrate ? Have you any 
 share in the great and tremendous charge of enact- 
 ing laws ? Reverence the authority of the supreme 
 Legislator, the great Guardian of society. Promote 
 none, consent to none, which you do not in your 
 own conscience esteem, in present circumstances, 
 an intimation of his will ; and in the establishment 
 of which you do not firmly believe you shall be his 
 minister for good. Have you the charge of exe- 
 cuting laws ? Put life into them by a vigorous and 
 strenuous execution, according to the nature of the 
 particular office you bear. Retain not an empty 
 name of authority. Permit not yourself, as it were, 
 to fall asleep on the tribunal. Be active, be wake- 
 ful, be observant of what passes around you. Pro- 
 tect the upright and the innocent. Break in pieces 
 the power of the oppressor. Unveil every dishonest 
 art. Disgrace, as well as defeat, the wretch, that 
 makes his distinguished abilities the disguise or pro- 
 tection of the wickedness which he ought rather to 
 endeavour to expose, and to drive out of the world 
 with abhorrence. 
 
 k H. Are you placed only at the head of a private 
 family ; Rule it for God. Administer the concerns 
 of that lillle kingdom with tlie same views, and on 
 the same principles, which I have been inculcating 
 on the powerful and the great ; if, by an unexpected 
 accident, any of them should suffer their eyes to 
 glance upon the passage above. Your children and 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 103 
 
 servants are your natural subjects. Let good order 
 be established among them, and keep them under a 
 regular discipline. Let them be instructed in the 
 principles of religion, that they may know how 
 reasonable such a discipline is ; and let them be 
 accustomed to act accordingly. You cannot indeed 
 change their hearts, but you may very much in- 
 fluence their conduct ; and by that means may pre- 
 serve them from many snares, may do a great deal 
 to make them good members of society, and may 
 set them, as it were, in the vvfay of God's steps, if, 
 peradventure, passing by, he may bless them with 
 the riches of his grace. And fail not to do your 
 utmost to convince them of their need of those 
 blessings ; labour to engage them to a high esteem 
 of them, and to an earnest desire after them, as in- 
 comparably more valuable than any thing else. 
 
 § 9. Again, Has God been pleased to raise you to 
 esteem among your fellow-creatures, which is not 
 always in proportion to a man's rank or possessions 
 in human life ? Are your counsels heard with atten- 
 tion ? Is your company sought 1 Does God give you 
 good acceptance in the eyes of men, so that they do 
 not only put the fairest construction on your words, 
 but overlook faults of which you are conscious to 
 yourself, and consider your actions and perform- 
 ances in the most indulgent and favourable light? 
 You ought to regard this, not only as a favour of 
 Providence, and as an encouragement to you cheer- 
 fully to pursue your duty, in the several branches 
 of it, for the time to come ; but also, as giving you 
 much greater opportunities of usefulness, than in 
 your present station you could otherwise have had. 
 If your character has any weight in the world, 
 throw it into the right scale. Endeavour to keep 
 virtue and goodness and countenance. Affection- 
 ately give your hand to modest worth, where it 
 seems to be depressed or overlooked ; though shin- 
 ing, when viewed in its proper light, with a lustre 
 which you may think much superior to your own. 
 Be an advocate for truth ; be a counsellor of peace ; 
 be an example of candour ; and do all you can to 
 reconcile the hearts of men, and especially of good 
 men, to each other, however they may difler in 
 tiieir opinions about matters which it is possible 
 for good men to dispute. And let the caution and 
 humility of your behaviour in circumstances of 
 such superior eminence, and amidst so many tokens 
 of general esteem, silently reprove the rashness and 
 haughtiness of those who perhaps are remarkable 
 for little else ; or who, if their abilities were indeed 
 considerable, must be despised ; and whose talents 
 must be, in a great measure, lost to the public, till 
 that rashness and haughtiness of spirit be subdued. 
 Nor suffer yourself to be interrupted in this gene- 
 rous and worthy course by the little attacks of envy 
 and calumny which you may meet with in it. Be 
 still attentive to the genera! good, steady and 
 
1U4 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 lesoliiti- in M)iir offorts to promote it ; and leave it 
 to Pioxiileiicc to i;iiaril or to rescue your character 
 from the base assaults of malice and falsehood ; 
 which will often, w ilhoutyour labour, confute tltcni- 
 sclvcs, and heap upon the authors greater shame, 
 or (if thcv are inaccessible to that) {greater infamy 
 than your humanity will allow you to wish them. 
 
 § H). Once mcHC, Has Clod l)lcssed you with riches f 
 Has he placed you in such circumstances, that you 
 liave more tlian you absolutely need for the subsist- 
 ence of yourself and your family f remember your 
 approachins^ account. Remember what an encum- 
 brance these things often prove to men in the way 
 of their salvation, and how often, according to our 
 Lord's express declaiation, they render it as diffi- 
 cult to enter into the kingdom of God, as it is for a 
 camel to go tlirough the eye of a needle. Let it 
 therefore be jour immediate, your earnest, and your 
 daily, prayer, that riches may not l)e a snare and a 
 shame to you, as they are to by far the greater part 
 of their possessors. Appropriate, I beseech you, 
 some certain part and proportion of your estate and 
 revenue to charitable uses ; with a provisional in- 
 crease, as God shall prosper you, in any extraordi- 
 nary instance. By this means you will always have 
 a fund of charity at hand ; and you will probably 
 be more ready to eoniniunicate, when you look upon 
 what is so deposited, as not in any sense your own; 
 but as already actually given away to those uses ; 
 though not yet affixed to particular objects. It is 
 not for me to say, what that proportion ought to be. 
 To those who have large revenues, and no children, 
 perhaps a third or one half may be too little ; to 
 those whose incomes are small, and their charge 
 considerable, though they have something more than 
 is absolutely necessary, it is possible a tenth may 
 be too much. But pray, tliat God would guide your 
 mind ; make a trial for one year, on such terms as 
 in your conscience you think w ill be most pleasing 
 to him; and let your observations on that, teach you 
 to fix your proportion for the next ; always remem- 
 bering, that he requires justice in the first place, 
 and alms-deeds only so far as may consist with that. 
 Yet at the same time take heed of that treacherous, 
 delusive, and in many instances destructive, imagi- 
 nation, — that justice to your own family requires 
 that you should leave your children very rich ; 
 which has perhaps cost some parsimonious parents 
 the lives of those darlings for whom they laid up 
 the portion of the poor ; and what fatal conse- 
 quences of divine displeasure may attend it to 
 those that yet sur\ ivc, God only knows ; and I hearti- 
 ly pray, that you or yours may never learn by ex- 
 perience. 
 
 § 11. And that your heart may yet be n)ore open- 
 ed, and that your charity may be directed to the best 
 purposes, let me briefly mention a variety of good 
 uses, which may call for the consideration of those 
 
 «honi (Jod has in this respect distinguished by an 
 ability to do good. To assist the iiints I aui to ofl'cr, 
 look round on tiie neighbourhood in w hich you live. 
 Think how many honest, and industrious, perhaps 
 too I might add religious, people, arc making very 
 hard shifts to struggle through life. Think what a 
 comfort that vm)u1(1 be to them, which you might, 
 without any inconvenience, spare from that abun- 
 dance which God hatii given you. Hearken also to 
 any extraordinary calls of charity w hich may hap- 
 pen, especially those of a public nature; and help 
 them forward with your example and your interest, 
 which perhaps may be of much greater importance 
 than the sum which you contribute, considered in 
 itself. — Have a tongue to plead for the necessitous, 
 as well as a hand to relieve them, and endeavour 
 to discountenance those poor, shameful excuses, 
 which covetousness often dictates to those, whose 
 art may indeed set some varnisli on what they sug- 
 gest, but so slight a one that the coarse ground will 
 appear through it. — See how many poor children 
 are wandering naked and ignorant about the streets, 
 and in the way to all kinds of vice and misery ; and 
 consider what can be done towards clothing some 
 of them at least, and instructing tliem in tlie prin- 
 ciples of religion. Would every thriving family in 
 a town which is able to afford help on such occa- 
 sions, cast a pitying eye on one poor family in its 
 neighbourhood, and take it under their patronage, 
 to assist in feeding, and clothing, and teaching the 
 children, in supporting it in allliction, ii» defending 
 it from wrongs, and in advising those that have the 
 management of it, as circumstances may require, 
 how great a difl'erencc would soon be produced in 
 the appearance of things amongst us ! Observe 
 wlio are sick, that if there be no public infirmary at 
 hand to which you can introduce tliem, (where your 
 contributions will yield the largest increase,) you 
 may do something towards relieving them at home, 
 and supplying them with advice and medicines, as 
 well as with proper diet and attendance. — Consider 
 also the spiritual necessities of men ; in providing 
 for which, I should particularly recommend to you 
 tlie very important and noble charity of assisting 
 young persons of genius and piety, with what is 
 necessary to support the expense of their education 
 for the ministry, in a proper course of grammatical 
 or academical studies. And grudge not some pro- 
 portion of what God hath given you to those, wlio 
 resigning all temporal views to minister to you the 
 gospel of Christ, have surely an equitable claim to 
 be supported by you, in a capacity of rendering you 
 those services, however laborious, to which, for your 
 sakes, and that of our common liOrd, they liave de- 
 voted their lives. And while you are so abundant- 
 ly satisfied with the goodness of God's house, even 
 of his holy temple, have compassion on those that 
 dwell in a desert land ; and rejoice to do somctliing 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 towards sending among the distant nations of tlie 
 heatben world, that glorious gospel which hath so 
 long continued unknown to multitudes, though the 
 knowledge of it, with becoming regard, be life ever- 
 lasting. — These are a few important charities, which 
 I would point out to those whom Providence has 
 enriched with its peculiar bounties ; and it renders 
 gold more precious than it could appear in any 
 other light, that it is capable of being employed for 
 such purposes. But if you should not have gold to 
 spare for them, contribute your silver ; or as a far- 
 thing or a mite is not overlooked by God, when 
 it is given from a truly generous and charitable 
 heart, let that be cheerfully dropped into the trea- 
 sury, where richer offerings cannot be afforded. 
 
 § 12. And, that amidst so many pressing demands 
 for charitj', you may be better furnished to answer 
 them, seriously reflect on your manner of living. I 
 say not that God requires you should become one 
 of the many poor relieved out of yonr income. The 
 support of society, as at present established, will 
 not only permit, but require, that some persons 
 should allow themselves in the elegances and de- 
 lights of life ; by furnishing which, multitudes of 
 poor families are much more creditably and com- 
 fortably subsisted, with greater advantage to them- 
 selves and safety to the public, than they could be, 
 if the price of their labours, or of the commodities 
 in which they deal, were to be given them as an 
 alms ; nor can I imagine it grateful to God, that 
 his gifts should be refused, as if they were meant 
 for snares and curses rather than benefits. This 
 were to frustrate the benevolent purposes of the 
 gracious Father of mankind, and, if carried to its 
 rigour, would be a sort of conspiracy against the 
 whole system of nature. Let the bounties of Pro- 
 vidence be used ; but let us carefully see to it, that 
 it be in a moderate and prudent manner, lest, by 
 your own folly, that which should have been foryour 
 welfare, become a trap. Let conscience say, my 
 dear reader, with regard to yourself, what propor- 
 tion of the good things you possess, your heavenly 
 Father intends for yourself, and what for your 
 brethren ; and live not, as if you had no brethren, 
 as if pleasing yourself in all the magnificence and 
 luxury you can devise, were the end for which you 
 were sent into the world. I fear this is the excess 
 of the present age, and not an excess of rigour and 
 mortification. Examine therefore your expenses, 
 and compare them with your income. That may be 
 shamefully extravagant in you, which may not only 
 be pardonable, but commendable, in another of su- 
 perior estate. Nor can you be sure tliat you do 
 not exceed, merely because you do not plunge your- 
 self in debt, nor render yourself incapable of laying 
 up any thing for yonr family. If you be disabled 
 from doing any thing for the poor, or any thing 
 proportionable to your rank in life, by that genteel 
 
 IN THE SOUL. lO.^ 
 
 and elegant way of living whicli you affect, God 
 must disapprove of such a conduct ; and you ought, 
 as you will answer it to liim, to retrench it. And 
 though the divine indulgence will undoubtedly be 
 exercised to those in whom there is a sincere prin- 
 ciple of faith in Christ, and undissembled love to 
 God and man, though it act not to that height of 
 beneficence and usefulness which might have l)ecn 
 attained ; yet be assured of this, tliat he who ren- 
 dereth to every one according to- his works, will 
 have a strict regard to the degrees of goodness in 
 the distribution of linal rewards. So tliat every 
 neglected opportunity draws after it an irreparable 
 loss, which will go into eternity along with you. 
 And let me add too, that every instance of negli- 
 gence indulged, renders the mind still more and 
 more indolent and weak, and consequently more 
 indisposed to recover the ground which has been 
 lost, or even to maintain that which has hitherto 
 been kept. 
 
 § 13. Complain not that this is imposing hard 
 things upon you. I am only directing your plea- 
 sures into a nobler channel ; and indeed that fru- 
 gality, which is the source of such a generosity, so 
 far from being at all injurious to your reputation, 
 will rather, amongst wise and good men, greatly 
 promote it. But you have far nobler motives before 
 you than those which arise from their regards. I 
 speak to you as to a child of God, and a member 
 of Christ ; as joined therefore by the most intimate 
 union to all the poorest of those that believe in 
 him. I speak to you as to an heir of eternal glory, 
 who ought therefore to have sentiments great and 
 sublime, in some proportion to that expected in- 
 heritance. 
 
 ^ 14. Cast about therefore in your thoughts, what 
 good is to be done, and what you can do, either in 
 your own person, or by your interest with others ; 
 and go about it with resolution, as in the name and 
 presence of the Lord. And as the Lord givcth 
 wisdom, and out of his mouth cometh knowledge 
 and understanding, go to the footstool of his throne, 
 and there seek that guidance and that grace, which 
 may suit your present circumstances, and may be 
 efleetual to produce the fruits of Iioliiiess and use- 
 fulness, to his more abundant glory, and to t!ie ho- 
 nour of your Christian profession. 
 
 The established Christian breathing after more ex- 
 tensive usefulness. 
 
 " O BOUN TiFUi, Father, and sovereign Author of all 
 good, whether natural or spiritual ! [ l)less thee 
 for the various talents with which thou hast en- 
 riched so undeserving a creature as I must acknow - 
 ledge myself to be. My soul is in the deepest 
 confusion before thee, when I consider to how little 
 purpose I have hitherto im])ro\ed them. Alas ! 
 
106 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 uhat liarc I done, in proportion to what tliou nuijht- 
 est reasonably have expeeted, witli the gills of 
 nature wliieli tliou liast bestow ed upon me, witli niy 
 capacities of life, with niy time, w ith my possessions, 
 with my inlUience over others ! Alas ! throui!;h my 
 own noijligjenee and folly, I look back on a barren 
 wihlerness, where I misht have seen a fruitful Held 
 and a sprinp;inu; harvest! .Justly do I indeed de- 
 ser\e to be stripped of all, to be brought to an im- 
 mediate account for all, to be eondemned as in 
 many respects unfaithful to thee, and to the world, 
 and to my own soul ; and in consequence of that 
 condemnation, to be cast into the prison of eternal 
 darkness ; but thou. Lord, hast freely forgiven the 
 dreadful debt of ten thousand talents. Adored be 
 thy name for it ! Accept, O Lord, accept that re- 
 newed surrender which I would now make of my- 
 self, and of all I have, unto thy service ! I acknow- 
 ledge that it is of thine ow n that I give thee ; make 
 me, 1 beseech thee, a faithful steward for my great 
 Lord ; and may I think of no separate interest of 
 my own, in opposition to thine ! 
 
 " I adore thee, O thou God of all grace, if, while 
 I am thus speaking to thee, I feel the love of thy 
 creatures arising in my soul ; if I feel my heart 
 opening to end)race my brethren of mankind ! O 
 make me thy faithful almoner, in distributing to 
 them all tliat thou hast lodged in mine hand for 
 their relief! and in determining what is my own 
 share, may I hold the balance with an equal hand, 
 and judge impartially between myself and them! 
 The proportion thou allowestmay I thankfully take 
 for myself, and those who are immediately mine ! 
 the rest may I distribute with wisdom, and fidelity, 
 and cheerfulness ! Guide mine hand, O ever mer- 
 ciful Father, whilst thou dost me the honour to make 
 me thine instrument in dealing out a few of thy 
 bounties ; that I may bestow them where they are 
 most needed, and where they will answer the best 
 end ! And if it be thy gracious will, do thou mul- 
 tiply the seed sown ! Prosper me in my worldly 
 affairs, that I may have more to impart to them that 
 need it ; and thus lead me on to the region of ever- 
 lasting plenty and everlasting benevolence ! There 
 may I meet with many to whom I have been an 
 afl'ectionatc benefactor on earth ; and if it be thy 
 blessed will, with many whom I have also been the 
 means of conducting into the path to that blissful 
 abode ! There may they entertain me in their habi- 
 tations of glory ! And in time and eternity, do thou. 
 Lord, accept the praise of all, through Jesus Christ ; 
 at whose feet I would bow, and at w hose feet, after 
 the most useful course, I would at last die, with as 
 much humility as if I were then exerting the first 
 act of faith upon him, and liad never had any oppor- 
 tunity, by one tribute of obedience and gratitude 
 in the services of life, to approve its sincerity I" 
 
 CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 The CJiristian rejoicing in the views of death and 
 judgment. 
 
 Deatli and judjiniont arc near j but the Christian lias reason to welcome 
 hiilli, } 1. Vi't nature rtcnils from the solemnity of lliem, } 2. An 
 atti'ni|it to reconcilr the mind, [I ] To the prospect of death, } 3. 
 from ttie consideration, (1.) Of the many evils tliat surround us in 
 tliis mortal life, { 1. (2.) Of tlie remainder of sin whirh we feel within 
 us, 5 And, (3.) Of the happiness which is immediately to succeed 
 death, \ 0, 7. All which mit;lit make the Christian willing; to die, in 
 the most agreeable circumstances of human life, } 8. [II.] The 
 Christian has reason to rejoice in the prospect of judjjment, } 9. 
 Since, however awful it be, Christ will then come, to vindicate his 
 honour, to display his ^lory, and to triumph over his enemies, \ 10. 
 As also to comi>lete the hajipiness of every believer, \ 11. and of the 
 whole church, { 12, 13. The meditation of a Christiau whose heart 
 is warmed with these prospects. 
 
 ^ 1. When the visions of the Lord were closing 
 upon John, the beloved disciple, in the island of 
 Patmos, it is observable, that he who gave him that 
 revelation, even Jesus the faithful and true witness, 
 concludes with those lively and important words : 
 — He who testifieth these things saith, Surely I 
 come quickly : and John answers, with the greatest 
 readiness and pleasure, Amen, even so, come, Lord 
 Jesus ! come, as thou hast said, surely and quick- 
 ly ! — And remember,. O Christian, whoever you are 
 that are now reading these words, your divine Lord 
 speaks in the same language to you : Behold, I come 
 quickly. — Yes, very quickly will he come by death, 
 to turn the key, to open the door of the grave for 
 thine admittance thither, and to lead thee through 
 it into the now unknown regions of the invisible 
 world. Nor is it long before the Judge, who stand- 
 eth at the door, will appear also to the universal 
 judgment. And though, perhaps, not only scores 
 but hundreds of years may lie between that period 
 and the present moment, yet it is but a very small 
 point of time to him, who at once views all the un- 
 nieasurable ages of a past and future eternity, A 
 thousand years are with him but as one day, and 
 one day as a thousand years. In both these senses 
 then does he come quickly. And I trust you can 
 answer, with a glad Amen, that the warning is not 
 terrible nor unpleasant to your ears, but rather that 
 his coming, his certain, his speedy coming, is the 
 object of your delightful hope, and of your longing 
 expectation. 
 
 § 2. I am sure, it is reasonable, it should be so ; 
 and yet perhaps nature, fond of life, and unwilling 
 to part with a long known abode, to enter on a state 
 to which it is entirely a stranger, may recoil from 
 the thoughts of dying ; or, struck with the awful 
 pomp of an expiring and dissolving world, may 
 look on the judgment-day with some mixture of 
 terror. And therefore, my dear brother in the Lord, 
 (for as such I can now esteem you,) I would reason 
 with you a little on this head, and would entreat 
 you to look more attentively on this solemn object, 
 which will, I trust, grow less disagreeable to you 
 as it is more familiarly viewed. Nay, I hope, that 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 instead of starting back from it, you will rather 
 spring forward towards it with joy and delight. 
 
 § 3. Think, O Christian, when Christ comes to 
 call you away by death, he conies, to set you at 
 liberty from your present sorrows, to deliver you 
 from your struggles witli remaining corruption, 
 and to receive you to dwell with himself in com- 
 plete holiness and joy. You shall be absent from 
 the body, and be present with the Lord. 
 
 § 4. He will indeed call you away from this 
 world. But oh, what is this world that you should 
 be fond of it, and cling to it with so much eager- 
 ness ? How low are all those enjoyments that are 
 peculiar to it; and how many its vexations, its 
 snares, and its sorrows ! Review your pilgrimage 
 thus far ; and though you must acknowledge that 
 goodness and mercy have followed you all the days 
 of jour life, yet has not that veiy mercy itself 
 planted some thorns in your paths, and given you 
 some wise and necessary, yet painful, intimations, 
 that this is not your rest ? Review the monuments 
 of your withered joys, of your blasted hopes ; if 
 there be yet any monuments of them remaining, 
 more than a painful remembrance they have left 
 behind in your afilicted heart. Look upon the 
 graves that have swallowed up many of your dearest 
 and most amiable friends, perhaps in the very 
 bloom of life, and in the greatest intimacy of your 
 converse with them ; and reflect, that if you hold it 
 out a few years more, death will renew its con- 
 quests at your expense, and devour the most pre- 
 cious of those that yet survive. View the living, as 
 well as the dead ; behold the state of human nature 
 under the many grievous marks of its apostasy 
 from God ; and say, whether a wise and good man 
 would wish to continue always here. Methinks, 
 were I myself secure from being reached by any of 
 the arrows that fly around me, I could not but 
 mourn to see the wounds that are given by them, 
 and to hear the groans of those that are continually 
 falling under them. The diseases and calamities of 
 mankind are so many, and, which is most grievous 
 of all, the distempers of their minds are so various 
 and so threatening, that the world appears almost 
 like an hospital. And a man, whose heart is tender, 
 is ready to feel his spirits broken as he walks 
 through it, and surveys the sad scene; especially 
 when he sees how little he can do for the recovery 
 of those whom he pities. Are you a Christian, and 
 does it not pierce your heart to see how human 
 nature is sunk in vice and in shame? — to sec witli 
 what amazing insolence some are making them- 
 selves openly vile, and how the name of Christ is dis- 
 honoured by many, too, that call themselves his 
 people ? — to sec the unlawful deeds and filthy prac- 
 tices of them that live ungodly ; and to behold, at 
 the same time, the inflnnities, at least, and irregu- 
 larities, of those concerning whom wc have better 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 107 
 
 hopes ? And do you not wish to escape from sucli a 
 world, where a righteous and compassionate soul 
 must be vexed from day to day by so many spectacles 
 of sin and misery ? 
 
 § 6. Yea, to come nearer home, do you not feel 
 something within you which you long to quit, and 
 which would imbitter even paradise itself? something 
 which, were it to continue, would grieve and dis- 
 tress even in tlie society of the blessed ? Do you 
 not feel a remainder of indwelling sin ; the sad 
 consequence of the original revolt of our natuie 
 from God ? Are you not struggling every day with 
 some residue of corruption, or at least mourning on 
 account of the weakness of your graces ? Do you 
 not often find your spirits dull and languid, when 
 you would desire to raise them to the greatest fer- 
 vour in the service of God ? Do you not find your 
 hearts too often insensible of tlie richest instances 
 of his love, and your hands feeble in his service, 
 even when to will is present with you ? Docs not 
 your life, in its best days and hours, appear a low 
 unprofitable tiling, when compared with what you 
 are sensible it ought to be, and with what you wish 
 that it were ? Are you not frequently, as it were, 
 stretching the pinions of tlie mind, and saying. 
 Oh that I had wings like a dove, that I might fly 
 away, and be at rest ? 
 
 § 6. Should you not then rejoice in the thought, 
 that Jesus comes to deliver you from these com- 
 plaints ? — that he comes to answer your wislies, and 
 to fulfil the largest desires of your hearts ; those 
 desires that he himself has inspired ? — that he comes 
 to open upon you a world of purity and joy, of 
 active, exalted, and unwearied services ? 
 
 § 7. O Christian, how often have you east a long- 
 ing eye towards those happy shores, and wished to 
 pass llie sea, the boi.stcrous, unpleasant, dangerous 
 sea, that separates you from them ! When your 
 Lord has condescended to make you a short visit in 
 his ordinances on earth, how have you blessed the 
 time and the place, and pronounced it, amidst any 
 other disadvantages of situation, to be the very gate 
 of heaven ! And is it so delightful to behold this 
 gate, and will it not be much more so to enter info 
 it f Is it so delightful to receive the visits of Jesus 
 for an liour, and w ill it not be infinitely more so to 
 dwell with him for ever ? Lord, may you well say, 
 when I dwell with thee, I shall dwell in holiness, 
 for thou thyself art holiness ; I shall dwell in love, 
 for thou thyself art love; I shall dwell in joy, for 
 thou art the fountain of joy, as thou art in the 
 Father, and the Father in thee. Bid welcome to his 
 approach, therefore, to take you at your word, and 
 to fulfil to you that saying of his, on which your 
 soul has so often rested with heavenly peace and 
 pleasure: Fatlier, I will that they whom thou hast 
 given me, be with me where I am, that they may 
 behold my glory, which thou hast given me. 
 
MB 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 § S. Surely you may say in this view, " The sooiu-r 
 Christ coiiics tlio bi-tter." Wliat tliough tlio resiilue 
 of your days be cut olF in the midst ? What thou<{li 
 you leave many evpeeted pleasures in life untasteil, 
 and many schemes unaccomplished .' Is it not 
 en(>u^;)l, that w hat is taken froni a mortal life shall 
 be added to a fjlorious eternity ; and that you sliall 
 spend those days and years in the presence and 
 service of Christ in heaven, m hich j ou mi<;;ht other- 
 wise have spent v\ith him, an<l for him, in iui|)er- 
 fect enjoyments and labours on earth ; 
 
 § 9. But your prospects reach not only beyond 
 death, but beyond the separate state. For with re- 
 gard to his final appearance to judgment our Lord 
 says. Surely I come (|niclvly, in the sense illustrated 
 before: and so it will appear to us, if we compare 
 fliis interval of time with the blissful eternity which 
 is to succeed it ; and, probably, if we compare it 
 witli those ages which have already p;issed, since 
 the sun began to measure out to earth its days and 
 its years. And will yon not here also sing your part 
 in the joyful anthem, Amen ; even so, come, Lord 
 Jesus ! 
 
 § 10. It is true, Christian, it is an awful day ; a 
 day in which nature shall be thrown into a confu- 
 sion as yet unknown. No eartlxpiake, no eruption 
 of burning mountains, no desolation of cities by de- 
 vouring flames, or of countries by overflowing rivers 
 or seas, can give any just emblem of that dreadful 
 day; when the heavens being on (ire shall be dis- 
 solved, as well as the earth, and all that is therein 
 shall be burned up ; when all nature shall flee away 
 inamazement before the face of the universalJudgc, 
 and there shall be a great cry, far beyond v^hat 
 ■was known in the land of Egypt, when there was 
 not a house in whieli there was not one dead. Your 
 flesh may be ready to tremble at the view, yet your 
 spirit must surely rejoice in God your Saviour. 
 You may justly say, " Let this illustrious day come, 
 even with all its horrors !" Yea, like the Chris- 
 tians described by the apostle, you may be looking 
 for, and hastening to, that day of terrible brightness 
 and universal doom. For your Lord will then come 
 to vindicate the justice of those proceedings which 
 have been in many instances so much obscured, 
 and because they have been obscured, have been 
 also blasphemed. He will come to display his 
 magnificence, descending from heaven with a shout, 
 with the voice of the archangel, and the trump 
 of God, taking his seat upon a throne infinitely ex- 
 ceeding that of earthly, or even of celestial, princes, 
 clothed with his Father's glory and his own, sur- 
 rounded with a nundjerless host of shining attend- 
 ants, when coming to be glorified in his saints, and 
 admired in all them that believe. His enemies 
 shall also be produced to grace his triumph : the 
 serpent shall be seen there rolling in the dust, and 
 trodden under foot by liini and by all his servants : 
 
 those who once condemned him, shall tremble at his 
 presence ; and those who bowed the knee before 
 him in profane mockery, shall in wild despair call 
 to the mountains to fall upon them, and to the rocks 
 to hide them from the face of that Lamb of God, 
 whom they once led away to the most inhuman 
 slaugliler. 
 
 § 11. O Christian, docs not your loyal heart 
 bound at the thought '. And arc you not ready, 
 even while you read tlicse lines, to begin the vic- 
 torious shout in which you are then to join ? He 
 justly expects, that your thoughts should be greatly 
 elevated and impressed with the views of his 
 triumph ; but at the same time, he permits you to 
 remember your own personal share in the joy and 
 glory of that blessed day ; and even now he has the 
 view bef"ore him of what his power and love shall 
 then accomplish for your salvation. And what 
 siiall it not acconi()lish .' He shall come to break 
 the bars of the grave, and to re-animate your sleep- 
 ing clay. Your bodies nuist indeed be laid in the 
 <lust, and be lodged there as a testimony of God's 
 displeasure against sin ; against the first sin that 
 ever was committed, from the sad consequences of 
 which the dearest of his children cannot be ex- 
 empted. But you shall then have an ear to 'hear 
 the voice of the Son of God, and an eye to behold 
 the lustre of his appearance ; and shall shine forth 
 like the sun arising in tue clear heaven, which is 
 as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber. Your 
 soul shall be new dressed, to grace this high so- 
 lenmity ; and be clothed, not with the rags of mor- 
 tality, but with the robes of glory ; for ho shall 
 change this vile body, to fashion it like his own 
 glorious body. And when you are thus royally 
 arrayed, he shall confer public honours on you, and 
 on all his people, before the assembled world. You 
 may now, perhaps, be loaded with infamy, called by 
 reproachful names, and charged with crimes, or 
 with views, which your very soul abhors ; but he 
 will then bring forth your righteousness as tiie light, 
 and your salvation as a lamp that burnetii. Though 
 you have been dishonoured by men, you shall be 
 acknowledged by God ; and though treated as the 
 filth of the world, and the ofl-scouring of all things, 
 he will show you that he regards you as his treasure, 
 in tlie day that he makes up his jewels. When he 
 shall put away all the wicked of the earth like 
 dross, you shall be pronounced righteous in that 
 full assembly ; and though indeed you have broken 
 the divine law, and might in strict justice have 
 been condemned, yet, being clothed w ith the right- 
 eousness of the great Redeemer, even that right- 
 eousness which is of God by faith, justice itself 
 shall acquit you, and join with mercy in bestowing 
 upon you a crown of life. Christ will confess you 
 before men and angels ; will pronounce you good 
 and faithful servants, and call you to enter into the 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 joy of your Lord : he will speak of you with endear- 
 ment as his brethren, and will acknowledge the 
 kindnesses which have been shown to you, as if he 
 had received them in his own person. Yea, then 
 shall you, O Christian, who may perhaps have sat 
 in some of tlie lowest places in our assemblies, 
 though (it may be) none of the rich and great of the 
 earth would condescend to look upon, or to speak 
 to you, be called to be assessors with Christ on his 
 judgment-seat, and to join with him in the sentence 
 he shall pass oa wicked men and rebellious angels. 
 
 § 12. Nor is it merely one day of glory and of 
 triumph, but when the Judge arises and ascends to 
 his Father's court, all the blessed shall ascend with 
 liim, and you among the rest : jou shall ascend 
 together with your Saviour, to his Father and your 
 Father, to his God and your God. You shall go, 
 to make your appearance in the New Jerusalem, in 
 those new shining forms that you have received, 
 which will no doubt be attended with a corres- 
 pondent improvement of mind ; and take up your 
 perpetual abode in that fulness of joy, with which 
 j-ou shall be filled and satisfied in the presence of 
 God, upon the consummation of that happiness, 
 which the saints in tlie inferniediate state have 
 been wishing and waiting for. You sliall go from 
 the ruins of a dissolving world, to the new heavens 
 and new eartli, wherein righteousness for ever 
 dwells. There all the number of God's elect sliall 
 be accomplished, and the happiness of each shall 
 be completed. The whole society shall be presented 
 before God, as the bride, the Lamb's wife, whom 
 the eye of its celestial Bridegroom shall survey witli 
 unutterable delight, and confess to be without spot 
 or wrinkle, or any such thing ; its character and 
 .state being just what he originally designed it to 
 be, when he first engaged to give himself for it, to 
 redeem it to God by his blood. So shall you ever 
 be with each other, and with the Lord ; and im- 
 mortal ages shall roll away, and find you still un- 
 changed ; your happiness always the same, and 
 your relish for it the same ; or rather, ever growing, 
 as your souls are approaching nearer and nearer to 
 him, who is t!ie source of happiness, and the centre 
 of infinite perfection. 
 
 § 13. And now, look round about upon earth, and 
 single out, if you can, the enjoyments, or the hopes, 
 for the sake of which you would say. Lord, delay 
 thy coming ; or for the sake of which you any more 
 should hesitate to express your longing for it, and 
 to cry, Even so, come. Lord Jesus, come <)uickly ! 
 
 7'/(c Meditation and Prayer of a Cfn istian, whose 
 heart is warmed with these prospects. 
 
 " O BLESSED Lord ! my soul is enkindled witli tlie.se 
 views, and rises to thee in the flame. Thou hast 
 testified, thou comest quickly ; and I repeat my 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 10.9 
 
 joyful assent. Amen, even so, come, Lord Jesus! 
 Come, for I long to have done with this low life ; 
 to have done with its burthens, its sorrows, and its 
 snares ! Come, for I long to ascend into thy pre- 
 sence, and to see the court thou art holding above ! 
 
 " Blessed Jesus, death is transformed when I 
 view it in this light. The king of terrors is seen no 
 more as .such, so near the King of glory and of grace. 
 I hear with pleasure the sound of thy feet, ap- 
 proaching still nearer and nearer. Draw aside the 
 veil whenever thou pleasest ! Open the bars of my 
 prison, that my eager soul may spring forth to thee, 
 and cast itself at thy feet ; at the feet of that Jesus, 
 whom having not seen, I love ; and in whom, 
 though now I see thee not, yet believing, I rejoice 
 witli joy unspeakable and full of glory ! Thou, Lord, 
 shalt show me the path of life ; thy hand shall 
 guide me to thy blissful abode, where there is ful- 
 ness of joy, and rivers of everlasting pleasure. Thou 
 shalt assign me a habitation with thy faithful ser- 
 vants, whose separate spirits are now living with 
 thee, while their bodies sleep in the dust. Many 
 of them have been my companions in thy laborious 
 work, and in the patience and tribulation of thy 
 kingdom ; my dear companions, and my brethren. 
 O show me, blessed Saviour, how glorious and how 
 happy thou hast made them ! Show me, to what new 
 forms of better life thou hast conducted them whom 
 we call the dead ! in what nobler and more exten- 
 sive services thou hast employed them ! that I may 
 praise thee better than I now can, for tliy goodness 
 to them ! And oh, give me to share w ith them in tlieir 
 blessings and their services, and to raise a song of 
 grateful love, like that which they are breathing 
 forth before thee ! 
 
 " Yet, O my blessed Redeemer, even there will 
 my soul he aspiring to a yet nobler and more glo- 
 rious hope ; and from this as yet unknown splen- 
 dour and felicity, shall I be drawing new arguments 
 to look and long for the day of thy final appearance. 
 There shall I long more ardently than I now do, to 
 see thy conduct vindicated, and tliy triumph dis- 
 played ; to see the dust of thy servants re-animated, 
 and dcatli, the last of their enemies and of thine, 
 swallowed up in ^ictory. I shall long for that su- 
 perior honour thattiiou intendest me, and that com- 
 plete bliss to which the whole body of thy people 
 shall be conducted. Come, Lord Jesus, come quick- 
 ly, will mingle itself with the songs of paradise, 
 and sound from the tongues of all the millions of 
 thy saints whom thy grace hath transplanted thither 
 
 " In the mean time, O my divine Master, accept 
 the homage which a grateful heart now pays thee, 
 in a sense of the glorious hopes with which thou 
 hast inspired it ! It is thou that hast put this joy 
 into it, and hast raised my soul to this glorious am- 
 bition ; whereas I might otherwise have now been 
 grovelling in the lowest trifles of time and sense, and 
 
no THE RISE AN 
 
 been l()okin<; with liorror on that liour, which is now 
 the object of niy most ardent wishes. 
 
 " Oh be w ith uie always, even to the end of this 
 mortal lite ! and give me, while waitinjc for thy sal- 
 vation, to be doing thy conuuandments ! May my 
 ioins be fcinled about, and niy lamp burnin<?; and 
 mine ears be still w atchful for the blessed signal of 
 thine arrival ; that my jjlow in;;; soul may with plea- 
 sure sprinn; to meet tlu-e, and be strengtiiened by 
 death to bear those visions of ijlory, under the ecsta- 
 sies of which feeble mortality would now expire." 
 
 CH.\P. XXX. 
 
 The Christian honouring God hy his dying behaviour. 
 
 Reflections on the sincerity xvitli wliich tlie preceding .idvices have been 
 given, \ I. The aullior is Hesirou'*, that {it* providi-ncc permit) he 
 may assist the Christian to die honourably anil comfortably, } 2, .'), 
 With tliis view it is advised, (I.) To rid tlic mind of all eaithly 
 cares, \ 4. (2 ) To renew the hnmiliation of the sonl hcfore God, 
 and its application to the blond of Christ, \ 5. (.').) To exi rcise pa- 
 tience nnder bodily ]iains and sorrows, \ G. (4.) At leaving; the 
 world, to hear an honourable testimony to religion, \ 7. (5.) Toyive 
 a solemn charge to surviving friends, \ 8. especially recommending; 
 faith in Christ, { 9. (G.) To keep the promises of iioA in view, } 10, 
 II. And, (7.) To conimit the departing; spirit to (rod, in the 
 jicnuine exercises of ;:ratitude and repentance, faith and charity, \ 12. 
 wliich are exemplified in the concludinjj meditation and prayer. 
 
 § 1. Thi s, my dear reader, 1 have endeavoured to 
 lead you through a variety of circumstances; and 
 those not fancieil or imaginary, but such as do in- 
 deed occur in the human and Christian life. And 
 I can truly and cheerfully say, that I have marked 
 out to you the path which I myself have trod, and 
 in which it is my desire still to go on. I have 
 ventured my own everlasting interests on that 
 foundation, on which I have directed you to adven- 
 ture yours. What 1 have recommended as the grand 
 business of your life, I desire to make the business 
 of my own ; and the most considerable enjoyments, 
 which I expect or desire in the remaining days of 
 my pilgrimage on earth, are such as I have directed 
 you to seek, and endeavoured to assist you in at- 
 taining. Such love to God, sucli constant activity 
 in his service, such pleasurable views of what lies 
 beyond the grave, appear to me, (God is my witness,) 
 a felicity incomparably beyond any thing else 
 wliich can offer itself to our alfet^tion and pursuit ; 
 and I would not for ten thousand worlds resign my 
 share in them, or consent even to the suspension of 
 the delights which they alTord, during the remain- 
 der of my abode here. 
 
 § 2. I would hun.bly hope, through the divine 
 blessing, that the hours yon have spent in the review 
 of these plain things may liave turned to some pro- 
 fitable account, and that in consequence of what 
 you have read, you have been either brought into 
 the way of life and peace, or been induced to quicken 
 your pace to it. Most heartily should I rejoice in 
 being further useful to you, and that even to the 
 
 D PROGRESS 
 
 last. Now tliere is one scene remaining, a scene 
 through which you must infallibly pass ; which lias 
 something in it so awful that I cannot but attempt 
 doing a little to assist you in it ; I mean, the dark 
 valley of the shadow of death. I could earnestly 
 wish, that for the credit of your profession, the 
 comfort of your own soul, and the joy and edifica- 
 tion of your surviving friends, you niiglit die, not 
 only safely, but lionouralily too : and therefore I 
 would oiler you a few parting advices. I am sen- 
 sible, indeed, that Providence may determine the 
 circumstances of your death in such a manner, as 
 that you may have no opportunity of acting upon the 
 hints I now give you. Some unexpected accident 
 from without, or from within, may as it were whirl 
 you to heaven before you are aware ; and you may 
 find yourself so suddenly there, that it may seem a 
 translation, rather than a death. Or, it is possible, 
 the force of a distemper may alTect your under- 
 .standing in such a manner, that you may be quite 
 insensible of the circumstances in which you are ; 
 and so your dissolution (though others may see it 
 visibly and certainly approaching) may be as great 
 a surprise to you, as if you had died in full health. 
 
 ^ 3. But as it is on tlie whole probable you may 
 have a more sensible passage out of time into eter- 
 nity, and as much may, in various respects, depend 
 on your dying behaviour, give me leave to propose 
 some plain directions with relation to it, to be prac- 
 tised, if God give you opportunity, and remind you 
 of them. It may not be improper to look over the 
 twenty-ninth chapter again, when you find the 
 symptoms of any threatening disorder ; and I the 
 rather hope, that what I say may be useful to you, 
 as methinks I find myself disposed to address you 
 with something of that peculiar tenderness which 
 we feel for a dying friend ; to whom, as we expect 
 that we shall speak to him no more, we send out, as 
 it were, all our hearts in every word. 
 
 §, 4. I would advise then, in the first place, that, 
 as soon as possible, you would endeavour to get rid 
 of all further care witli regard to your temporal 
 concerns, by settling them in time in as reasonable 
 and Christian a manner as you can. I could wish 
 there may be nothing of that kind to hurry your 
 mind when you are least able to bear it, or to dis- 
 tress or divide those who come after you. Do that 
 which, in the presence of God, you judge most equi- 
 table, and which you verily believe will be most 
 pleasing to him. Do it in as prudent and efl"ectual 
 a manner as you can : and then, consider the world 
 as a place you have quite done with, and its afi'airs 
 as nothing further to you, more than to one actually 
 dead ; unless as you may do any good to its inha- 
 bitants, while you yet continue among them ; and 
 may, by any circumstances in your last actions or 
 words in life, leave a blessing behind you to those 
 who have been your friends and fellow-travellers, 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 while you have been despatching that journey 
 through it which you are now finishing. 
 
 § 5. That you may be the more at leisure, and the 
 better prepared for this, enter into some serious 
 review of your own state, and endeavour to put your 
 soul into as fit a posture as possible, for your solemn 
 appearance before God. For a solemn thing indeed 
 it is, to go into bis immediate presence ; to stand 
 before him, not as a supplicant at the throne of his 
 grace, but at his bar as a separate spirit, whose time 
 of probation is over, and whose eternal state is to be 
 immediately determined. Renew your humiliation 
 before God for the imperfections of your life, 
 though it has in the main been devoted to his ser- 
 vice. Renew your application to the mercies of 
 God as promised in the covenant of grace, and to 
 the blood of Christ as the blessed channel in which 
 they flow. Resign yourself entirely to the divine 
 disposal and conduct, as willing to serve God, 
 either in this world or the other, as he shall see fit. 
 And, sensible of your sinfulness on the one hand, 
 and of the divine wisdom and goodness on the 
 other, summon up all the fortitude of your soul to 
 bear, as well as you can, whatever his afllicting hand 
 may further lay upon you, and to receive tlie last 
 stroke of it, as one who would maintain the most 
 entire subjection to the great and good Father of 
 spirits. 
 
 § 6. Whatever you suffer, endeavour to show 
 yourself an example of patience. Let that amiable 
 grace have its perfect work ; and since it has so 
 little more to do, let it close the scene nobly. Let 
 there not be a murmuring word ; and that there 
 may not, watch against every repining thought ; 
 and when you feel any thing of that kind arising, 
 look by faith upon a dying Saviour, and ask your 
 own heart, " Was not his cross much more painful 
 than the bed on which I lie ? Was not bis situation 
 among blood-thirsty enemies infinitely more terrible, 
 than mine amidst the tenderness and care of so 
 many affectionate friends ? Did not the heavy load 
 of my sins press him in a much more overwhelming 
 manner, than I am pressed by the load of these 
 afflictions ? And yet he bore all as a lamb that is 
 brought to the slaughter." Let the remembrance of 
 his suflerings be a means to sweeten yours; yea, let 
 it cause you to rejoice, when you are called to bear 
 the cross for a little while, before you wear the 
 crown. Count it all joy, that you have an opportu- 
 nity yet once more of honouring God by your 
 patience, which is now acting its last part, and will 
 in a few days, perhaps in a few hours, be super- 
 seded by complete and everlasting blessedness. 
 And I am willing to hope, that in these views you 
 will not only suppress all passionate complaints, 
 but that your mouth will be filled with the praises of 
 God ; and that you will be speaking to those that 
 are about you, not only of his justice, but of hLs 
 
 IN THE SOUL. Ill 
 
 goodness too. So that you will be enabled to com- 
 municate your inward joys in such a manner, as 
 may be a lively and edifying comment upon those 
 words of the apostle. Tribulation worketh patience ; 
 and patience, experience ; and experience, hope ; 
 even a hope which maketh not ashamed, while the 
 love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the 
 Holy Ghost, which is given unto us. 
 
 § 7. And now, my dear friend, now is the time, 
 when it is especially expected from you that you 
 bear an honourable testimony to religion. Tell 
 those that are about you, as well as you can, (for 
 you will never be able fully to express it,) what 
 comfort and support you have found in it. Tell 
 them, how it has brightened the darkest circum- 
 stances of j'our life ; tell them, how it now recon- 
 ciles you to the near views of death. Your words 
 will carry with them a peculiar weight at such a 
 season ; there will be a kind of eloquence even in 
 the infirmities with which you are struggling, 
 while you give them utterance ; and you will be 
 heard with attention, with tenderness, with credit. 
 And therefore, when the time of your departure is 
 at hand, with unaffected freedom breathe out your 
 joy, if you then feel (as I hope you will) a holy 
 joy and delight in God. Breathe out, however, your 
 inward peace and serenity of mind, if you be then 
 peaceful and serene : others will mark it, and be 
 encouraged to tread the steps which lead to so 
 happy an end. Tell them what you feel cf the 
 vanity of the world, and they may learn to regard 
 it less : tell them what you feel of the substantial 
 supports of the gospel, and they may learn to value 
 it more : for they cannot but know, that they must 
 lie down on a dying bed too, and must then need 
 all the relief which the gospel itself can give 
 them. 
 
 § 8. And to enforce the conviction the more, 
 give a solemn charge to those that are about you, 
 that they spend their lives in the service of God, 
 and govern themselves by the principles of real re- 
 ligion. You may remember, that Joshua, and Da- 
 vid, and other good men, did so ; when they per- 
 ceived that the days drew near in which they should 
 die. And you know not how the admonitions of a 
 dying friend, or (as it may be with respect to some) 
 of a dying parent, may impress those who have dis- 
 regarded what you and others may have said to 
 them before. At least, make the trial ; and die la- 
 bouring to glorify God, to save souls, and generously 
 to sow the seeds of goodness and happiness in a 
 world, where you have no more harvests to reap. 
 Perhaps they may spring up in a plentiful crop, 
 when the clods of the valley are covering your body ; 
 but if not, God will approve it ; and the angels (hat 
 wait around your bed to receive your departing 
 soul, will look upon each other with marks of ap- 
 probation in their countenance, and own that this 
 
112 
 
 THE RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 is (o expire like ii Chi istian, and to make a glorious 
 iniproveiiient of mortality. 
 
 § 9. And in this last address to your fellow-mor- 
 tals, whoever they are tl»at Providence brina,s near 
 you, be sure that you tell them, how entirely and 
 how elieerfully your liopes and dependence in tliis 
 season of the last extremity arc fixed, not upon 
 your own merits and obedience, but on what the 
 great Redeemer has done and sulVcred for sin- 
 ners. Let them see, that you die as it were at the 
 foot of the cross ; nothinu- will be so comfortable to 
 yourself, nothing so etlifyinu; to them. Let the 
 name of Jesus, therefore, be in your mouth, while 
 you are able to speak ; and when you can speak 
 no lon<;er, let it be in your heart, and endeavour 
 that the last act of your soul, while it continues in 
 the bodj% may be an act of humble faith in Christ. 
 Come unto God by him ; enter into that which is 
 within the veil, as with the blood of sprinkling,- 
 fresh upon you. It is an awful thing for such a 
 sinner (as you, my Christian friend, with all the 
 virtues the world may have admired, know yourself 
 to be) to stand before that infinitely pure and holy 
 Being, who has seen all your ways, and all your 
 heart, and has a perfect knowledge of every mix- 
 ture of imperfection which has attended the best of 
 your duties ; but venture in that way, and you will 
 find it both safe and pleasant. 
 
 § 10. Once more, to give you comfort in a dying 
 hour, and to support your feeble steps while you 
 are travelling through this dark and painful way, 
 take the word of God as a staff in your hand. Let 
 books, and mortal friends, now do their last ofTiee 
 for j'ou. Call, if you can, some experienced Chris- 
 tian, who has felt the power of the word of God 
 upon his own heart ; and let him bring the Scrip- 
 ture, and turn you to some of those precious pro- 
 raises, wliich have been the food and rejoicing of 
 his own soul. It is with this view, that I may cany 
 the good ofliee I am now engaged in as far as 
 possible, I shall here give you a collection of a 
 few such admirable scriptures, each of them infi- 
 nitely more valua])le than thousands of gold and 
 silver. And to convince you of the degree in which 
 I esteem them, I will take the freedom to add, that 
 I desire they may (if God give an opportunity) be 
 read over to me, as I lie on my dying bed, with 
 short intervals between them, that I may pause 
 upon each, and renew something of that delightful 
 relish, which, I bless God, I have often found in 
 them. May your soul and mine be then composed 
 to a sacred silence, (whatever be the commotion of 
 animal nature,) while the voice of God speaks to 
 us,' in language w hich he spake to his servants of 
 old, or in which he instructed them how they 
 should speak to liim, in circumstances of the 
 greatest extremity. 
 
 § 11. Can any more encouragement be w^anting. 
 
 when he says. Fear not, for I am with thee ; be 
 not dismayed, for I am thy God : I will strengthen 
 thee, yea, I will help thee, yea, I will uphold thee 
 with the right hand of my righteousness. And he 
 is not a man, that he should lie, or the son of man, 
 that he should repent : hath he said, and shall he 
 not do it ; or hath he spoken, and shall he not make 
 it good ? The Lord is my light and my salvation ; 
 whom shall I fear ; the Lord is the strength of my 
 life ; of whoni shall I be afraid? This God is our 
 God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even 
 unto death. Therefore, though I walk through the 
 valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil ; 
 for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they com- 
 fort me. I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord. 
 
 0 continue thy loving-kindness unto them that 
 know thee, and thy righteousness to the upright 
 in heart: for with thee is the fountain of life; in 
 thy light shall we see light. Thou wilt show me 
 the path of life;, in thy presence is fulness of joy, 
 at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. 
 As for me, I shall behold thy face in righteousness ; 
 
 1 shall be satisfied when I awake with thy likeness. 
 For I know in whom I have believed, and am per- 
 suaded that he is able to keep what I have committed 
 to him until that day. Therefore my heart is glad, 
 and my glory rejoiceth ; my flesh also shall rest in 
 hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose 
 again, those also that sleep in Jesus will God bring 
 with him. I give unto my sheep eternal life, (said 
 Jesus, the good shepherd,) and they shall never 
 perish, neither shall any pluck them out .of my 
 hand. This is the will of him that sent me, that 
 every one that believeth on me should have ever- 
 lasting life ; and I will raise him up at the last day. 
 Let not your heart be troubled ; ye believe in God, 
 believe also in n\c. In my Father's house are many 
 mansions ; if it were not so, I would have told you : 
 I go to prepare a place for j ou ; and if I go and pre- 
 pare a place for you, I will come again, and receive 
 you to myself; that where I am, there ye may be 
 also. Go, tell my brethren, I ascend unto my Father 
 and your Father, and to my God and your God. 
 Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me 
 be with me where I am, that they may behold my 
 glory which thou hast given me ; that the love 
 wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them, and 
 I in them. He that testifieth these things saith. 
 Surely, I come quickly ; Amen. Even so, come, Lord 
 Jesus! O death, where is thy sting? O grave, 
 wliere is thy victory ? Thanks be to God, who 
 giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 § 12. Thus may that God, who knows the souls of 
 his children in all their adversities, and in whose 
 sight the death of his saints is precious, cheer and 
 support you and me in those last extremities of 
 nature ! May he add us to the happy number of 
 those who have been more than conquerors in 
 
OF RELIGION 
 
 death ! And may he give us those supplies of his 
 Spirit, which may enable us to pour out our departing 
 souls in such sentiments as those I would now 
 suggest ; though we should be no longer able to 
 utter words, or to understand them if they were to 
 be read to us ! Let us at least review them with all 
 proper affections now, and lay up one prayer more 
 for that awful moment ! Oh that this, and all we 
 have ever oflFered with regard to it, may then come 
 in remembrance before God ! 
 
 A Meditation and Pratjer suited to the case of a 
 dyiny Christian. 
 
 " O THOU Supreme Ruler of the visible and in- 
 visible w orlds ! thou Sovereign of life and of death, 
 of earth and of heaven ! blessed be thy name, I 
 have often been taught to seek thee. And now once 
 more do I pour out my soul, ray departing soul, unto 
 thee. Bow down thy gracious ear, O God, and let 
 my cry come before thee with acceptance ! 
 
 " The hour is come, w hen thou wilt separate me 
 from this world, with which I have been so long 
 and so familiarly acquainted, and lead me to an- 
 other, as yet unknown. Enable me, I beseech thee, 
 to make the exchange as becomes a child of 
 Abraham, who, being called of thee to receive an 
 inheritance, obeyed, and went out, though he knew 
 not particularly whither he went ; as becomes a 
 child of God, who knows, that through sovereign 
 grace, it is his Father's good pleasure to give him 
 the kingdom ! 
 
 " I acknowledge, O Lord, the justice of that sen- 
 tence by which I am expiring ; and own thy wis- 
 dom and goodness, in appointing my journey through 
 this gloomy vale which is now before me. Help 
 me to turn it into the happy occasion of honouring 
 thee, and adorning my profession ! and I will bless 
 the pangs, by which thou art glorified, and this 
 mortal and sinful part of my nature is dissolved. 
 
 " Gracious Father, I would not quit this earth of 
 thine, and this house of clay in which I have so- 
 journed during my abode upon the face of it, with- 
 out my grateful acknowledgments to thee, for all 
 that abundant goodness which thou hast caused to 
 pass before me here. With my dying breath I bear 
 witness to thy faithful care, I have wanted no good 
 thing. I thank thee, O my God, that this guilty, 
 forfeited, unprofitable life was so long spared : that 
 it hath still been maintained by such a rich variety 
 of thy bounty. I thank thee, that thou hast made 
 this beginning of my existence so pleasant to me. 
 I thank thee, for the mercies of my days and nights, 
 of my months and years, which are now come to 
 their period ; I thank thee for the mercies of my 
 infancy, and for those of my riper age ; for all the 
 agreeable friends whom thou hast given nie in this 
 liouse of my pilgrimage, the living and the dead ; 
 J 
 
 IN THE SOUL. 113 
 
 for all the help I have received from others, and for 
 all tlie opportunities which thou hast given me of 
 being helpful to the bodies and souls of my breth- 
 ren of mankind.— Surely goodness and mercy have 
 followed me all the days of my life, and 1 have 
 reason to rise a thankful guest from the various and 
 pleasant entertainments with which my table has 
 been furnished by tliee. Nor shall I have reason 
 to repine or to grieve at quitting them : for, O my 
 God, are thy bounties exhausted ? I know that 
 they are not. I will not wrong thy goodness and 
 thy faithfulness so much as to imagine, that because 
 I am going from this earth, I am going from happi- 
 ness. I adore thy mercy, that thou hast taught me 
 to entertain nobler views through Jesus thy Son. — 
 I bless thee v> ith all the powers of my nature, that I 
 ever heard of his name, and heard of his death : 
 and would fain exert a more vigorous act of thank- 
 ful adoration than in this broken state I am capable 
 of, w hile I am extolling thee for the riches of thy 
 grace manifested in him ; for his instructions and 
 his example, for his blood and his righteousness, 
 and for that blessed Spirit of thine which thou hast 
 given me, to turn my sinful heart unto thyself, and 
 to bring me into the bonds of thy covenant ; of that 
 covenant which is ordered in all things and sure, 
 and which this death, though now separating my 
 soul from my body, shall never be able to dis- 
 solve. 
 
 " I bless thee, O Lord, that I am not dying in an 
 unregencrate and impenitent state ; but that thou 
 didst graciously awaken and convince me ; that 
 thou didst renew and sanctify my heart, and didst, 
 by thy good Spirit, work in it an unfeigned faith, 
 a real repentance, and the beginning of a divine 
 life. I thank thee for ministers and ordinances; 
 I thank thee for my sabbaths and my sacrament 
 days ; for the weekly and monthly refreshments 
 which they gave me ; I thank thee for the fruits of 
 Canaan which were sent nic in the wilderness, and 
 are now sent mc on the brink of Jordan. I thank 
 thee for thy blessed word, and for those exceeding 
 rich and precious promises of it vvliich now lie as a 
 cordial warm at my heart in this chilling hour ; 
 promises of support in death, and of glory beyond 
 it, and of the resurrection of my body to everlasting 
 life. O my God, I firmly believe them all, great 
 and wonderful as they are, and am waiting for the 
 accomplishment of them through Jesus Christ, in 
 whom they are all yea and amen. Remember thy 
 word unto thy servant, on which thou hast caused 
 mc to hope ! I covenanted with thee not for worldly 
 enjoyments, which thy love taught me comparafively 
 to despise ; but for eternal life, as the gift of thy 
 free grace through Jesus Christ my Lord: and now 
 permit me in his name to enter my humble claim 
 to it ! Permit me to consign this departing spirit 
 to thine hand ; for thou hast redeemed it, O Lord 
 
in THE RISE AND 
 
 CJoil of (nitli ! I am (liinc : save me and make me 
 happy. 
 
 " But may I indeed presume to say, I am tliinc '. 
 
 0 God, now I am standing on the borders of both 
 worlds, now I view things as in the light of tliy 
 presence and of eternity, how unworthy do I appear, 
 that I should be taken to d« ell with thy angels and 
 sainls in glory ! Alas, I have reason to look back 
 with ileep humiliation on a i)oor, unprofitable, sinful 
 life, in which I have daily been deserving to be 
 cast into hell. But I have this one comfortable 
 refleetion, that I have fled to the cross of Christ ; 
 and I now renew niy application to it. To think of 
 appearing before God in such an imperfect right- 
 eousness as my own, were ten thousand times worse 
 than death. No, Lord ! I come unto thee as a sin- 
 ner, but as a sinner who has believed in thy Son for 
 pardon and life : I fall down before thee as a guilty 
 polluted wretch ; but thou hast made him to be 
 unto thy people for wisdom and righteousness, for 
 sanctilication and redemption. Let me have my 
 lot among the followers of Jesus ! Treat me as 
 thou treatest those who are his friends and his 
 brethren ; for thou knowest my soul has loved him, 
 and trusted him, and solemnly ventured itself on 
 the security of his gospel. And I know in whom I 
 have believed. The infernal lion may attempt to 
 dismay me in the awful passage : but I rejoice that 
 
 1 am in the hands of tlie good Shepherd ; and I 
 defy all my spiritual enemies, in a cheerful depend- 
 ence on his faithful care. I lift up ray eyes and my 
 heart to him, who was dead and is alive again ; 
 and behold, he lives for evermore, and hatli the 
 keys of death and of the unseen world. Blessed 
 Jesus, I die by thine hand, and I fear no liarm 
 from the hand of a Saviour ! I fear not that death 
 which is allotted to me by the hand of my dearest 
 Lord, who himself died to make it safe and happy. 
 I come, Lord, I come not only with a willing, but 
 with a joyful, consent. I thank thee, that thou re- 
 memberest me for good ; that thou art breaking my 
 
 PROGRESS, &c. 
 
 chains, aiul calling mc to the glorious liberty of (he 
 children of God. I thank thee, that thou wilt no 
 longer permit me to live at a distance from thine 
 arms ; but, after this long absence, wilt have me at 
 home, at home for ever. 
 
 " My feeble nature faints in the view of that 
 glory, which is now dawning upon nie : but Ihou 
 knowest how, gracious Lord, to let it in upon my 
 soul by just de-grees, and to niake thy strength per- 
 fect in my weakness. Once more, for the last time, 
 would I look down on this poor world which I am 
 going to quit, and breathe out my dying vows for 
 its prosperity, and that of thy church in it. I have 
 loved it, O Lord, as a living member of the body ; 
 and I love it to the last. I humbly beseech thee, 
 therefore, that thou wilt guard it, and purify it, and 
 unite it more and more ! Send down more of thy 
 blessed Spirit upon it, even Uie Spirit of wisdom, 
 of holiness, and of love; till in due time the wil- 
 derness be turned into a garden of the Lord, and 
 all flesh shall see thy salvation ! 
 
 " And as forme, bear me, O my heavenly Father, 
 on thewingsof everlasting love, to that peaceful, that 
 holy, that joyous abode, which thy mercy has pre- 
 pared for me, and which the blood of my Redeemer 
 hath purchased! Bear me to the general assembly 
 and church of the first-born, to the innumerable 
 company of angels, and to the spirits of just men 
 made perfect ! And whatever this flesh may suffer, 
 let my steady soul be delightfully fixed on that glory 
 to which it is rising ! Let faith perform its last 
 office in an honourable manner ! Let my few re- 
 maining moments on earth be spent for thy glory ; 
 and .so let me ascend, with love in my heart and 
 praise on my faltering tongue, to the world where 
 love and praise shall be complete ! Be this my la.st 
 song on earth, which I am going to tune in heaven — 
 Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be 
 unto him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, 
 for ever and ever ! Amen." 
 
» 
 
 A 
 
 PLAIN AND SERIOUS ADDRESS 
 
 TO THE 
 
 MASTER OF A FAMILY, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 IMPORTANT SUBJECT OF FAMILY RELIGION. 
 
» 
 
 I 
 
A 
 
 PLAIN AND SERIOUS ADDRESS. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 You may easily apprehend, that the many inter- 
 ruptions to which personal visits are liable, make 
 it difTicult for ministers to find a convenient time, 
 in which they may apply themselves suitably and 
 largely to those committed to their care ; or at least, 
 if they resolve to do it, will necessarily make their 
 propjress through large congregations very slow. I 
 therefore take this method of visiting you while 
 alone, and of addressing you on the very important 
 subject of Family Religion. For your own sake, 
 and the sake of those dearest to you, I entreat you 
 to give me a calm attentive hearing. And I would 
 particularly desire, that if it be by any means prac- 
 ticable, (as with a little contrivance and resolution 
 I hope it may,) you would secure one hour on the 
 morning of the Lord's day after you receive it, not 
 merely to run over this letter in a cursory manner, 
 but deliberately to weigh and consider it, and to 
 come to some determination, as in the sight of God, 
 that you will, or that you will not, comply with the 
 petition wliich it brings ; if I may not rather saj', 
 with the demand which in his name it makes upon 
 -you. 
 
 As I purpose to deliver it to every master of a 
 family under my stated care, or to every mistress 
 where there is no master, (that no offence of any 
 kind may be taken, which it is in my power to pre- 
 vent,) I know it will come to many, who have long 
 been exemplary for their diligence and zeal in the 
 duties I am recommending ; to many, whom their 
 own experience hath instructed in the pleasures and 
 advantages which flow from thein ; an experience, 
 which will enforce them more elFectually than any 
 thing which it is possible for me to say. Such will, 
 I hope, by what they read, be confirmed in pursuing 
 the good resolutions they have taken, and the good 
 cu.stoms they have formed ; and will also be excited 
 more earnestly to endeavour to contribute towards 
 introducing llie like into other families over which 
 they have any influence, and especially iulo those I 
 
 which may branch out from their own, by the set- 
 tlement of children or servants. In this view, as 
 well as to awaken their thankfulness to divine grace, 
 which hath inclined them to the discharge of their 
 duty in so great, yet so frequently neglected, an 
 article of it, I hope the heads of praying families 
 will not peruse this letter in vain. But it is intend- 
 ed as an address to those, who have hitherto lived in 
 the omission of it : and if there were but one such 
 master of a family under my care, I would gladly 
 submit to the labour in which I am now engaging 
 for his sake alone. To such therefore I now turn 
 myself ; and oh that divine grace might engage 
 every one of such a character to hear me with at- 
 tention, and might enforce upon Ids conscience the 
 weight of reasons, tlie evidence of which the lowest 
 may receive, and to which it is impossible that the 
 highest should find any thing solid to object! 
 
 Oh my dear friend, whoever you are, (for T know 
 no one under my care to whom I may not address 
 that appellation,) give me leave to tell you plainly, 
 that while I write this I have that awakening scrip- 
 ture in my view : " Pour out thy fury upon the 
 heathen tliat know thee not, and upon the families 
 that call not on thy name." I appeal to you as a 
 man of ordinary sense and understanding, (as it 
 needs no more,) to judge whether this do not 
 strongly imply, that it may be taken for granted 
 every family, which is not a heathen family, which 
 is not quite ignorant of the living and true God, 
 will call upon his name. Well may it then pain 
 my heart, to think that there should be a profess- 
 edly Christian family, whom this dreadful character 
 suits. Well may it jjain my heart, to think of the 
 divine fury, which may be poured out on the heads 
 and on the members of it : and well may it make 
 me desirous to do my utmost, to secure you and 
 yours from every appearance, from every possibi- 
 lity, of such danger. Excuse the earnestness with 
 which I may address you. I really fear, lest while 
 you delay, the fire of llie divine displeasure should 
 fall upon you : and as I adore the patience of God 
 
118 
 
 FAMILY RELIGION RECOMMENDED 
 
 ill hiiviiii; thus long; siispcndcil tlic storm, I am 
 anxious about every hour's dehiy, lest it slioiild fall 
 the heavier. 
 
 I will therefore, as plainly and seriously as I can, 
 endeavour to convinec you of your duty, if perad- 
 venture you are not already secretly convinced of 
 it ; as truly I believe most w ho neglect it, under 
 the regular administration of gospel ordinances, 
 are. — I will then touch on a few of those objections, 
 which have been pleaded to excuse in some degree 
 so shameful an omission. — And this will naturally 
 lead me to conclude with a few hints, which may 
 serve by way of direction, for the proper introduc- 
 tion and discharge of the services to which I am 
 endeavouring to engage you. , 
 
 I mean not to handle the subject at large, wlii(;]i 
 would afford abundant matter for a considerable 
 volume ; as indeed several volumes have been 
 written upon it, by divines of diJlerent denomina- 
 tions, who, however various in other opinions, agree 
 here; as what intelligent Christian can disagree? 
 But I mean to suggest a few plain things, which it 
 is evident you have not sufficiently considered, and 
 which if duly weighed, may, by the blessing of 
 God, answer my present purpose. Now the argu- 
 ments I shall propose will be such, that if you will 
 not regard them, little is to be hoped from any 
 other : for surely the mind of man can discover 
 none of greater and more universal importance ; 
 though I readily acknowledge, that many others 
 might enforce them with greater energy and ad- 
 dress. Yet if the desire, the most earnest desire, of 
 succeeding can add any of the proper arts of per- 
 suasion, they will not be wanting here. And I 
 would fain speak, as one who considers, how mucli 
 of the glory of God, how much of your own happi- 
 ness, and that of your dear children, for time and 
 eternity, depends on the success of what I am now 
 to lay before you. 
 
 What I desire and entreat of you is, that you 
 would honour and acknowledge God in y«ur fami- 
 lies, by calling them together every day, to hear 
 some part of his word read to them, and to oiler, 
 for a few minutes at least, your united confessions, 
 prayers, and praises to him. And is this a cause 
 that should need to be pleaded at large by a great 
 variety of united motives ? Truly the petition seems 
 so reasonable, and a compliance with it from one 
 who has not quite renounced religion might seem so 
 natural, tliat one would think the bare proposing it 
 might suffice. Yet experience tells us, it is much 
 otherwise. This letter will come into the hands of 
 some, who, though they maintain a public profes- 
 .'jion of religion, have been again and again exhorted 
 to it in vain, and that perhaps for succeeding years. 
 I might say a great deal to upbraid sucli, especially, 
 on account of this neglect ; but I rather choose to 
 entreat to the future performance of the duty ; 
 
 humbly hoping, that, crtnunal as former negligence 
 has been, a gracious God will mercifully forgive it, 
 to those who repent and desire to reform. 
 
 And oh that I could engage you to this, by repre- 
 senting in the plainest, kindest, and most afl'ec- 
 tioijate manner, the reasonableness and advantage 
 of this duty ! For if it be reasonable, if it be evi- 
 dently advantageous, there arc numberless general 
 precepts of Scripture, which must comprehend and 
 enforce it, if it were less immediately supported 
 than it is by particular passages ; which yet, as I 
 shall presently show, do many of them sta-ongly 
 recommend it to us. 
 
 Consider, Sir, for I address myself to every par- 
 ticular person, seriously consider the apparent 
 reasonableness of family religion. Must not your 
 consciences presently tell you, it is fit that persons 
 who receive so many mercies together, should 
 acknowledge them together ? Can you in your own 
 mind be satisfied, that you and your nearest re- 
 latives should pay no joint homage to that God, 
 who hath set you in your family, and who hath given 
 to you, and to the several members of it, so many 
 domestic enjoyments .' your Creator and theirs, 
 your Preserver and theirs, your daily Benefactor and 
 theirs ? Can it be right, if you have any sense of 
 these things each of you in your own hearts, that 
 the sense of them should be concealed and smother- 
 ed there, and that you should never join in your 
 grateful acknowledgments to him ? Can you imagine 
 it reasonable, that when you have a constant de- 
 pendence upon him for so many mercies, without 
 the concurrence of which your family would be a 
 scene of misery, you should never present your- 
 selves together in his presence, to ask them at liis 
 hand ? Upon what principles is public worship to 
 be recommended and urged, if not by such as have 
 their proportionable weight here ? 
 
 Indeed the force of these considerations hath not 
 only been known and acknowledged by the people 
 of God in all ages ; we have not only Noah and 
 Abraham, Joshua and David, Job and Daniel, each 
 under a much darker dispensation than ours, as ex- 
 amples of it; but we may venture to say, that 
 wherever there has been a profession of any kind of 
 religion, it has been brought into private houses as 
 well as public temples. The poor heathens, as we 
 certainly know, from the remaining monuments of 
 them, had their lares and their penates, which were 
 household images, some of them in private chapels, 
 and others about the common hearth, where the 
 family used to worship them by frequent prayers 
 and sacrifices. And the brass, and wood, and stone, 
 of which they consisted, shall, as it were, cry out 
 against you, shall rise up against you and condemn 
 you, if while you call yourselves the worshippers 
 of the one living and eternal God, and boast in the 
 revelation you have received by his prophets and by 
 
TO THE MASTER OF A FAMILY. 
 
 119 
 
 his Son, you presume to omit an homage, which the 
 stupid worshippers of such vanities as these failed 
 not to present to them, while they called them their 
 gods. Be persuaded then, I beseech you, to be con- 
 sistent in your conduct. Either give up all pre- 
 tences to religion, or maintain a steady and uniform 
 regard to it, at home as well as abroad, in the fami- 
 ly, as well as in the closet, or at church. But the 
 reasonableness of this duty, and the obligations 
 which bind you in conscience to the practice of it, 
 will further appear, if you consider, 
 
 The many advantages which will, by the divine 
 blessing, attend a proper discharge of it. And here, 
 I would more particularly represent the good in- 
 fluence, which famil}' devotions are likely to have, 
 — upon the j'oung persons committed to your care, — 
 upon your own hearts, — and upon tlie advancement 
 of a general reformation, and the propagation of re- 
 ligion to those that are yet unborn. 
 
 Consider, in the first place, what is most obvious, 
 the happy influence which the duty I am recom- 
 mending might have upon the young members of 
 j'our family, the children and servants committed 
 to your care. For I now consider you as a parent 
 and a master. The father of a family is a phrase, 
 that comprehends both these relations ; and with 
 great propriety, as humanity obliges us to endea- 
 vour to lake a parental care of all under our roof. 
 And, indeed, 
 
 You ought to consider your servants, in this view, 
 with a tender regard. They are probably in the 
 flower of life, for that is the age whicli is commonly 
 spent in service ; and you should recollect how pos- 
 sible it is, that this may be, if rightly improved, the 
 best opportunity their whole life may all'ord them 
 for learning religion, and being brought under the 
 power of it. If your servants are already instructed 
 in it, by being brought up in families where these 
 duties have been maintained ; let them not, if they 
 .should finally miscarry, have cause to impute it to 
 you, and to testify before God, in the day of their 
 condemnation, " that it was under your roof that 
 they learnt the neglect and forgetfulness of God. 
 and of all that their pious parents, perhaps in a 
 much inferior station of life to you, had in earlier 
 days been attempting to teach them ; to teach them, 
 in moments taken from labour, or from repose almost 
 necessary for their subsistence." On the other 
 hand, if they come to you quite ignorant of religion, 
 (as, if they come from praycrlcss families, it is very 
 probable that they do,) have compassion upon them, 
 f entreat you, and endeavour to give them those ad- 
 \ antagcs whicli tlu-y never yet had ; and wliicli it is 
 loo probable, as things are generally managed, they 
 never will have, if you will not afford them. 
 
 But I would especially, if I might be allowed to 
 borrow the pathetic words of Job, entreat you by the 
 children of your own body. I would now, as it were, 
 
 present them all before you, and beseech you by all 
 the bowels of paternal affection, (which I have 
 myself so strongly felt,) that to all the other tokens 
 of tenderness and love, you would not refuse to add 
 this, without which many of the rest may be worse 
 than in vain. 
 
 Give me leave to plead with jou as the instru- 
 ments of introducing them into being. Oh remem- 
 ber, it is indeed a debased and corrupted nature you 
 have conveyed to them. Consider, that the world, 
 into which you have been the means of bringing 
 them, is a place in which they are surrounded with 
 man)" temptations, and in which, as they advance in 
 life, tliey must expect many more ; so that, in plain 
 terms, it is on the whole much to be feared, that 
 they will perish in the ignorance and forgetfulness 
 of God, if they do not learn from you to love and 
 serve him. For how can it be expected they should 
 learn this at all, if 30U give them no advantages for 
 receiving and practising the lesson at home ? 
 
 And let me further urge and entreat you to remem- 
 ber, that these dear children, whose tender age, and 
 perhaps amiable forms and dispositions, might 
 attract the affection and solicitude of strangers, are 
 committed to your especial and immediate care by 
 God their Creator. And he has made them thus 
 dependent upon you, and others that have, in their 
 infancy and childhood, the care of them, that there 
 might be hereafter a better opportunity of forming 
 their minds, and of influencing them to a riglit 
 temper and conduct. And can this by any means 
 be effectually done, if you do not at proper times 
 call them together, to attend to the instructions of 
 the word of God, and to join in solemn prayers and 
 supplications to him f At least, is it possible it 
 should be done any other way with equal advantage, 
 if this be not added to the rest ? 
 
 Family worship is a most proper way of teaching 
 children religion, as you teach them language, by 
 insensible degrees ; a little one day and a little 
 another; for to them line must be upon line, and 
 precept upon precept. They may learn to conceive 
 aright of the divine perfections, when they hear you 
 daily acknowledging and adoring them : their 
 hearts may be early touched with pious remorse for 
 sin, when they hear your confessions poured out 
 before God : they will know what mercies they are 
 to ask for themselves, by observing what turn your 
 petitions take : your intercessions may diffuse into 
 tlicir minds a spirit of love to mankind, a concern 
 for the interest of the church, and of their country ; 
 and, what is not I think by any means to be neg- 
 lected, sentiments of loyalty towards our sovereign 
 and his family, when they hear you daily invoking 
 the divine blessing upon them : and your solemn 
 thanksgivings for the bounties of Providence, and 
 for benefits of a spiritual nature, may aflcct their 
 hearts with those gracious impressions towards the 
 
120 
 
 KAMILY RELIGION RECOMMENDED 
 
 iiracious Autlior of all, which may excite in their 
 little breasts lo\c to him, the most noble and 
 g:enuine principle of all true and acceptable reli- 
 gion. Thus they may become Christians by insen- 
 sible degrrecs, and ^tow in the knowledg:c and love 
 of the truth, as they do in stature. 
 
 By observing; your reverent and solemn deport- 
 ment, (as reverent and solemn I hope it will at 
 such seasons be,) they may get some notion of an 
 invisiltlc bcincc, before they are of age to understand 
 the definition of the term God ; and may feel their 
 minds secretly impressed with a humble awe and 
 veneration, before they can explain to you their 
 sense of it. And whatever instructions you give 
 them concerning Iiis nature and his w'ill, and the 
 way of obtaining his favour by Jesus Christ, all 
 your admonitions relating to the importance of that 
 invisible world we are going to, and the necessary 
 preparation for it, will be greatly illustrated by the 
 tenor of your daily devotions, as well as by those 
 excellent lessons which the word of God, when so- 
 lemnly read to them morning and evening, will 
 afford. Nor is it by any means to be forgotten, that 
 w hile they hear themselves, and their own concerns, 
 mentioned before God in prayer, while they hear 
 you earnestly pleading for the divine blessing upon 
 them, (especially if it be in expressions wisely 
 varied, as some particular occurrences in their lives 
 and in yours may require,) it may very probably be 
 a means of moving their impressible hearts ; as it 
 may powerfully convince them of your deep and 
 tender concern for their good, and may add great 
 weight to the instructions you may address to them : 
 so that it may appear, even while you are praying 
 for them, that God hears. And indeed I have known 
 some instances of excellent persons, who have dated 
 their conversion to God, even after they had begun 
 visibly to degenerate, from the prayers, from the 
 serious and pathetic prayers, which they have heard 
 their pious fathers, perhaps I might add their pious 
 mothers, presenting before God on their account. 
 
 Indeed, were this duty properly attended to, it 
 might be expected that all Christian families would, 
 according to their respective sizes and circum- 
 stances, become nurseries of piety ; and you would 
 see in the most convincing view, the wisdom of 
 Providence, in making human infants so much more 
 dependent on their parents, and so much more in- 
 capable to shift for themselves, than the offspring 
 of inferior creatures are. 
 
 Let me then entreat you, my dear friend, to look 
 on your children tlic very next time you see them, 
 and ask your own heart, how you can answer it to 
 Ciod and to them, that you deprive them of such 
 advantages as these? advantages, without which, 
 it is to be feared, your care of them in other re- 
 spects will turn to but little account, should they 
 be ever so prosperous in life. For what is pros- 
 
 perity in life without the knowledge, and fear, and 
 love of God .' what, but tiie poison of the soul, 
 which swells and kills it ? m hat, but the means of 
 making it more certainly, more deeply, more intole- 
 rably miserable, when all its transient and empty 
 amusements are passed a,way like a dream when 
 one awaketh ? In short, not to mention the happy 
 influence it may have on their temporal affairs, by 
 drawing down the divine blessing, and by forming 
 their minds to those virtues which pave the way to 
 wealth and reputation, health and contentment, 
 which make no enemies, and attract many friends ; 
 it is, with respect to the eternal world, the greatest 
 cruelty to your children, thus to neglect giving them 
 those advantages, which no other cares in educa- 
 tion itself, exclusive of these, can afford ; and it is 
 impossible you should ever be able to give them any 
 other equivalent. If you do your duty in this re- 
 spect, they will have reason to bless you living and 
 dying ; and if you neglect it, take care that you and 
 they come not, in consequence of that neglect, into 
 a world, where (horrid as the thought may now 
 seem) you will for ever be cursing each other. And 
 thus I am fallen insensibly, because so naturally, 
 from what I was saying of the concern and interest 
 of those under your care, to your own, so far as it 
 may be distinguished from theirs. 
 
 Let me therefore press you to consider, how much 
 your own interest is concerned in the matter ; the 
 w hole of your interest, both spiritual and temporal. 
 
 Your spiritual interest is infinitely the greatest, 
 and therefore I will begin with that. And here let 
 me seriously ask you. Do you not need those advan- 
 tages for religion which the performance of family 
 duty w ill give you, added to those of a more secret 
 and a more public nature, if peradventure they are 
 regarded by you ? These instructions, these ado- 
 rations, these confessions, these supplications, these 
 intercessions, these thanksgivings, which may be 
 so useful to your children and servants, may they 
 not be useful to yourselves ? May not your own 
 hearts have some peculiar advantage for being im- 
 pressed, when you are the mouth of others in these 
 domestic devotions, beyond what in a private 
 station of life it is otherwise possible you should 
 have? Oh, these lessons of religion to your own 
 souls, every morning and evening, might be (if I 
 may be allowed the expression) either the seed or 
 foretaste of salvation to you. Nay, the remoter in- 
 (lucnce they may have on your conduct in other re- 
 spects, and at other times, when considered merely 
 in the general as religious exercises performed by 
 you in your family, is to be recollected as an argu- 
 ment of vast importance. 
 
 A sense of common decency would engage you, 
 if you pray with your family, to avoid a great many 
 evils, which would appear doubly evil in a father or 
 a master, who kept up such religious exercises in 
 
TO THE MASTER OF A FAMILY. 
 
 121 
 
 his house. I will not now, Sir, speak of yourself, 
 for I M-ould not offend by supposing any thing 
 grossly bad of you. But do you imagine, that if 
 reading the Scripture and family prayer were intro- 
 duced into the houses of some of your neighbours, 
 drunkenness and lewdness, and cursing and swear- 
 ing, and profaning the Lord's day, would not, like 
 so many evil demons, be quickly driven out ? The 
 master of the family would not for shame indulge 
 them, if he had nothing more than the form of duty 
 kept up ; and his refonnation, though only external, 
 and at first on a kind of constraint, would carry with 
 it the reformation of many more, who have such a 
 dependence on his favour as they would not sacri- 
 fice, though, by a madness very prevalent among 
 the children of men, they can venture to sacrifice 
 their souls to every trille. 
 
 And may it not perhaps be your more immediate 
 concern, to recollect, that if you prayed with your 
 family, you would yourself be more careful to ab- 
 stain from all appearance of evil ! You would find 
 out a way to suppress that turbulency of passion, 
 which may now be ready to break out before you 
 are aware, and other imprudences, in which your 
 own heart would check you by saying, " Does this 
 become one, that is by and by to kneel down with his 
 domestics, his cliildren and servants, and adore God 
 with them, and pray against every thing which dis- 
 pleases God, and makes us unfit for the heavenly 
 world ?" I will not say this will cure everj' thing 
 that is wrong ; but I believe you are already per- 
 suaded, it would often have a very good influence. 
 And I fear, it is the secret desire of indulging some 
 irregularities without such a restraint, that, in- 
 famous as such a victory is, hath driven out family 
 prayer from several houses where it was once main- 
 tained, and hath excluded it from others. But if 
 j'ou have any secret disinclination of heart rising 
 against it in this view, it becomes you seriously to 
 take the alarm ; for, to speak plainly, I have hardly 
 known a blacker symptom of damnation, than a fear 
 of being restrained in the commission of sin. 
 
 After this it may seem a matter of smaller im- 
 portance, to urge the good influence which a proper 
 discharge of family duty may have upon your own 
 temporal aflairs ; both l)y restraining you from many 
 evils, and engaging you to a proper conduct your- 
 self, and also by impressing your children and ser- 
 vants with a sense of religion. And it is certain, 
 the more careful they are of their duty to God, the 
 more likely they will be to perform their duty to 
 you. Nor can any thing strengthen your natural 
 authority among them more, than your presiding in 
 such solemnities, if supported by a suitable con- 
 duct. But I would hope, nobler motives will have 
 a superior weight. And therefore, wavingtliis topic, 
 I entreat you, as the last argument, to consider. 
 
 The influence it may have on a general reforma- 
 
 tion, and on the propagation of religion to those who 
 are yet unborn. You ought to consider every child 
 and servant in your family, as one who may be a 
 source, not only of life, but (in some degree) of 
 character and happiness, to those who are hereafter 
 to arise into being ; yea, whose conduct may in part 
 affect those that are to descend from them in the 
 following generation. If they grow up, while under 
 your eye, ignorant of religion, they will certainly be 
 much less capable of teaching it to others ; for these 
 are the years of discipline, and if they be neglected 
 now, there is little probability of their receiving 
 after-instruction. Nor is this all the evil conse- 
 quence ; for it is highly probable, that they will 
 think themselves authorized by your example to a 
 like negligence, and so you may entail heathenism 
 under disregarded Christian forms, on your descend- 
 ants and theirs in ages to come. Whereas your 
 diligence and zeal might be remembered, and imi- 
 tated by them, perhaps when you are in your grave ; 
 and the stock which they first received from you, 
 might with rich improvements be communicated to 
 great numbers, so that one generation after another 
 might learn to fear and serve the Lord. On the 
 whole, God only knows what a church may arise 
 from one godly family, what a harvest may spring 
 up from a single seed ; and on the other hand, it is 
 impossible to say, how many souls may at length 
 perish by the treacherous neglect of a single person, 
 and to speak plainly, by jour own. 
 
 These, Sir, are the arguments I had to plead 
 with you, and which I have selected out of many 
 more ; and now give me leave seriously to ask yon, 
 as in the presence of God, wliether there be not, on 
 the whole, an unanswerable force in them ? And 
 if there be, what follows, but that you immediately 
 yield to that force, and set up family worship this 
 very day. For, methinks, I would hardly thank 
 you for a resolution to do it to-morrow, so little do 
 I expect from that resolution. How can you ex- 
 cuse yourself in the continued omission ? Bring the 
 matter before God ; he will lie the final judge of it ; 
 and if you cannot debate tlic <|ucsli<)n as in his 
 presence, it is a sign of a bad cause, and of a bad 
 heart too ; which is conscious of the badness of the 
 cause, and yet will not give it up, nor comjjly with 
 a duty, of your obligations to which you are secretly 
 convinced, and yet in effect say, " I will go on in 
 (his sin, and venture the consequence." Oh it is a 
 dreadful venture ! and will be found in effect pro- 
 voking the Lord to jealousy, as if you were stronger 
 than he. 
 
 But perhaps there may arise in your mind some 
 objections, which may in some dcgiec break the 
 force of this conviction, and wliich in that view it 
 may be expedient for me to discuss a little before I 
 dismiss the subject, and close my address to you. 
 You may perhaps be ready to object, 
 
FAMILY RELIGION RECOMMENDED 
 
 1. " Tliat family prayer is not in so many words 
 comniaiuli-d in Scriptnrc ; and, therefore, liowever 
 expedient in some cases, it cannot be so universal 
 and so important a duty, as we represent it." 
 
 I answer i)lainly, that it is stronj-ly roconuneiidod 
 in Scripture, and eonscciuenlly eomnwnded ; as 
 tlierc are precepts which i)laiiil> include, tlioii2,li 
 tliey do not particularly express, it. And I ap- 
 peal to yourself in this matter. When (Jod is 
 represented as givinp; this reason to his aiifjcls for 
 a particular favour to be bestowed on Abraham, be- 
 cause he knew that he would command his chil- 
 dren and household to keep the Way of the Lord, 
 that he miglit obtain the promised blessing ; did he 
 not intend to declare his approbation of the care he 
 took to support rclin;ion in bis family ? And can it 
 be supported in a total neglect of prayer '. — A^ain, 
 do you not in your conscience think, that tiie Spirit 
 of God meant that we should take Joshua for an 
 example, when he tells us, that he resolved, and 
 publicly declared the resolution, that he and his 
 house would serve the Lord ; whicli must express a 
 religious care of bis family too ! — Do you not be- 
 lieve, tliat the blessed Spirit meant it as a com- 
 mendation of .Job, that lie otl'ercd sacrifices for all 
 bis children, sacrifices undoubtedly attended with 
 prayers, when he feared lest the gaiety of their 
 hearts in their successive feastings might have be- 
 trayed them into some moral evil ? — And was it not 
 to do an honour to David, that the Scripture informs 
 us, that he went home to bless liis household ; that 
 is, to perform some solemn act of domestic worship, 
 when he had been spending the whole day in pub- 
 lic devotions .' — What think you of the exanii)k' of 
 Daniel, wlio prayed in his house, and with his win- 
 dows open toward .Jerusalem, and would ratlicr 
 run the risk of being cast into the den of lions, and 
 being torn in pieces by those cruel beasts, than he 
 would either omit or conceal it? — And do you think, 
 that when our blessed Lord, whose whole life was 
 employed in religious services, so frequently took 
 liis disciples apart to pray with them, that he did 
 not intend this as an example to us, of praying with 
 those under our special care, or in other words, 
 with the members of our own family, who are most 
 immediately so? — Or can you, by any imaginable 
 artifice, delude yourself so far as to think, that 
 when wc are solemnly charged and conmiandcd 
 to pray with all prayer and supplication, this 
 kind of prayer is not included in that apostolical 
 injunction ? 
 
 On the whole, the question lies in a very little 
 room. Have I proved by what I have said before, 
 that family prayer is a reasonable thing? that it 
 has a tendency to promote the honour of God, and 
 the interest of religion, and your own salvation, with 
 that of those who are committed to your care? If 
 you are really convinced of this, then all the general 
 
 precepts which require the love of God and your 
 neighbour, all that reconnneud a regard to the inte- 
 rest of Christ, and a concern for our own everlasting 
 happiness, biiul it in this connexion as certaiidy 
 upon us, as if it had been commanded in words as 
 express astiiosc in wiiich wc arc required to enter 
 into our closets, and there to pray to our Father 
 which is in secret.* 
 
 And I will further add, that if the care of family 
 religion be (as I suppose every man's conscience 
 will secretly testify that it is) a proper part of a 
 religious education, then all those many passages 
 of Scripture which recommend this, must in all 
 reason be understood as including tliat. But per- 
 haps you may he ready to plead, 
 
 2. " That it is generally neglected." 
 
 Yet scarce can you have made or thought of this 
 objection, but you will see at the lirst glance, that 
 this must turn upon yourself, rather than on the 
 whole appear favourable to your cause. It is the 
 reproach of our age, if it be indeed generally neg- 
 lected. And if it be generally excluded from the 
 families of the rich and the great, (who too fre- 
 (juently set the fashion, where they are most apt to 
 set it wrong,) let it rather awaken a generous indig- 
 nation in our breast, to think tliat it is so excluded. 
 At least, let it awaken a holy zeal to exert ourselves 
 so much the more, as it is certain that no association 
 in vice can secure those that join in it: for it is 
 expressly said, though hand join in hand, tlie wicked 
 shall not be unpunished. So will your obedience 
 be the more acceptable, in proportion to the degree 
 in which it is singular* Were there not one praying 
 family in tlie whole nation, in the whole world, me- 
 thinks it should instigate you to the practice, rather 
 than tempt you to the neglect, and you should press 
 on as ambitious of the glory of leading the way : 
 for what could be a nobler object of ambition, than 
 to be pointed out by the blessed God himself, as 
 .Job was ; of whom he said, w ith a kind of triumph, 
 Hast Ihou considered my servant .Job, that there is 
 none like him in the land, or even on the earth ? 
 But, blessed be God, tliis supposed universal neglect 
 is far from being the ease. Let it however rejoice 
 us, if God may say, " There are such and such 
 families, distinguishable from those in the neigh- 
 bourhood on this account ; as prevalent as the 
 neglect of family prayer is, they have the resolution 
 to practise it, and, like my servant Daniel, fear not 
 the reproach and contempt which iirofane and un- 
 godly men may cast upon them, if they may but 
 honour me and engage my favour : I know them ; 
 I hearken and hear, and a book of remembrance is 
 written before me for them that fear me, and think 
 on my name." Nor should you urge, 
 
 * Tliis part of llic argninpjit is cnfoiml witli peculiar strons;th by 
 that KTeat and cxcclk'rtt writer Mr. Howe, in iiis I'osthuinons Sermons 
 oa Ihi; subject ; wliich I eanieslly reconimcnd to every reader Il1.1t cau 
 get ail opportunity of perusing thcra. 
 
TO THE MASTER OF A FAMILY. 
 
 123 
 
 3. " That you have so mucli business of another 
 kind, as not to be able to attend to this." 
 
 I might cut this objection short at once, by ap- 
 plying to your conscience, whether you have not 
 time for many other things, which you know to be 
 of much less importance. How oiany hours in a 
 week do you find for amusement, while j ou have 
 none for devotion in your family ? And do you 
 indeed hold the blessing of God so very cheap, and 
 think it a matter of so little importance, that you 
 conclude your business must succeed the worse, if 
 a few minutes were daily taken solemnly to seek it 
 together f Let me rather admonish you, that the 
 greater your business is, the more need you have to 
 pray earnestly, that your hearts may not be engrossed 
 by if. And I would beg leave further to remind 
 /you, that if your hurry of business were indeed so 
 great as the objection supposes, (whicli I believe is 
 seldom the case,) prudence alone might suggest, 
 that you should endeavour to contract it. For there 
 are certain boundaries, beyond which a wise and 
 faithful care cannot extend ; and as an attempt to 
 go beyond these boundaries has generally its 
 foundation in avarice, it often has its end in poverty 
 and ruin. But if you were ever so secure of suc- 
 ceeduig for this world, how dear might you and 
 your children pay for that success, if all the blessed 
 consequences of family religion, for time, and for 
 eternity, were to be given up as the price of that 
 very small part of your gains, which is owing to the 
 minutes you take from these exercises, that you may 
 give them to the world ! For you plainly perceive 
 tlie question is only about tliem, and by no means 
 about a strenuous application to tlie proper duties 
 of your secular calling tlirougli the day. And if 
 you will be rich upon such profane terms as are here 
 supposed, (for truly I can call them no better than 
 profane,) you will probably plunge yourself into 
 final perdition, and may in the mean time pierce 
 yourself tlirougb with many sorrow.-; : while religi- 
 ous families learn by blessed experience, that the 
 blessing of the Lord, which they are so often im- 
 ploring together, maketh rich, and addeth no sor- 
 row w 'nh it ; or that a little, with the fear of the 
 Lord, i.i better than great treasure, with that inter- 
 mingled trouble, which in the neglect of God must 
 necessarily be expected. But I conclude that yet 
 more will be objecting, 
 
 4. " That they want ability for a work of this 
 kind." 
 
 To this I must in the first place reply, that where 
 ihc heart is rightly disposed, it does not reejuire 
 ;it)y uncommon abilities to discharge family wor- 
 ship in a decent and edifying manner. The heart 
 of a wise and good man in this respect teaclietli his 
 mouth, and addeth knowledge to his lips; and out 
 of the fulness of it, when it is indeed full of pious 
 afTcctions, the mouth will naturally speak. And 
 
 if it speak naturally, and in the main properly, it 
 is enough. There is no need at all of speaking 
 elegantly. The plainest and simplest language, in 
 addresses to the Majesty of Heaven, appears to me 
 far preferable to laboured, pompous, and artificial 
 expressions. Plain short sentences, uttered just as 
 they rise in the mind, will be best understood by 
 them that join with you. And it should on such 
 occasions be our endeavour, to let ourselves down, 
 as much as possible, to the understanding of the 
 least and meanest of them : and this will in itself 
 be more pleasing to God, than any thing which 
 should proceed from ostentation and parade. 
 
 I must also desire you to consider how many 
 helps you may easilj' procure. The Scripture is a 
 large and noble magazine of the most proper senti- 
 ments, and most expressive language ; which, if 
 you will attend to with becoming regard, will soon 
 furnish you for every good word and work, and 
 most apparently for this. And besides this, we 
 have in our language a great variety of excellent 
 forms of prayer, for families as well as for private 
 persons;* which you may use, at least at first, 
 with great profit. And if it be too laborious to you 
 to learn them by heart, or if having learnt them you 
 dare not trust your memory, what should forbid your 
 rea<ling them reverently and devoutly .' I hope I 
 shall give no offence to any good Christian by say- 
 ing, but on this occasion I should offend my con- 
 science by not saying, that I have long thought an 
 irreconcilable aversion to forms of prayer, even of 
 Iiuroan composition, as vain a superstition as a 
 passionate attachment to them. And if any had 
 rather that a family should be prayerless, than that 
 a w ell chosen form should be gravclj' and solemnly 
 read in it, I tiiink he judges as absurdly, as if he 
 would rather sec them starving to death, than fed 
 out of a dish whose materials or shape are disagree- 
 able to him. The main thing is, that God be 
 reverently and sincerely adored, that suitable bless- 
 ings, temporal and s[)iritual, be sought from him 
 for ourselves and others, and cordial thanksgivings 
 returned to him for the various gifts of his con- 
 tinual bounty: and if this be done, tlie (urcum- 
 stances of doing it, though I cannot think them 
 (juite indifferent, are comparatively of small im- 
 portance. I know by sure experience, in a great 
 variety of instan<;es, that it is very possible for 
 Christians of no extraordinary genius, and with a 
 very low education, to acquit themselves honour- 
 al)Iy in prayer without the assistance of forms : and 
 they who at first need them may, and probably, if 
 tiiey seriously set about it, would, soon outgrow that 
 
 * I must lie;; leave on tiiis ocrasioii to mention and reconintend two 
 1 xrclleut cnllei tions (if this kiriil, Jenki's's Devotions, and Tile Family 
 I'layer Book, printed for Mr. Waiiijli. Readers of almost every tusle 
 may find themselves suited by one or tlie oilier of these ; and there are 
 many admiiahly devout and jiiflieioiis forms in Imtli, ivliieh I should 
 IhtiiK every wise and (food man mixht hear with pliMsiire and itn- 
 provement, and to every elause of whieli he might put his most hearty 
 Amen. 
 
124 
 
 FAMILY RELIGION RECOMMENDED 
 
 need. But iftlicy (lid not, God niifjht be glorilied, 
 and families edilied, l>y the continued use of sueli 
 helps. And on the whole, if it be indeed come to 
 this, that you will rather sacrifice all the benefits 
 of family prayer, than submit to the trouble of read- 
 ing, or appointin^r another to read, a well composed 
 address, which perhaps, with a small portion of 
 Scripture before it, misjiit not take up one quarter of 
 an hour's time, intleed, indeed, you must be con- 
 demned by God, and your own conscience. In 
 such a view both must testify, that it is neither want 
 of leisure, nor want of ability, that prevents your 
 discharging^ your duty, but a stupid indifference 
 • about it, or ratber a wretched aversion to it ; the 
 natural consequence of which might, if a little re- 
 flected upon, be sullicient to throw the most careless 
 and arrogant sinner into an awful alarm, if not a 
 trembling consternation. 
 
 I apprebend, that the most plausible objections 
 have now been canvassed ; for I suppose, few will 
 be so weak and cowardly as to plead, 
 
 5. " That their domestics will not submit to the 
 introduction of such orders as these." 
 
 But as this may be secretly thought of, where it 
 would not be pleaded, especially where these duties 
 have unhappily been omitted when families were 
 first formed, and in their most flexible and pliant 
 state, I will bestow a few words on this head. 
 
 And here I must desire, that you would not 
 rashly conclude this to be the ease with respeet to 
 your own. Do not think so unkindly of your do- 
 mestics, if they be not extremely wicked indeed, 
 as to imagine they would be secretly discontented 
 with spending a little time daily in hearing the 
 word of God, and being present at your domestic 
 devotion ; much less should you allow yourself to 
 think, till it appears in fact, that they will have the 
 arrogance openly to dispute so reasonable a deter- 
 mination as this. Perhaps, on the contrary, they 
 are even now secretly wishing that God would put 
 it into your heart to make the attempt ; and think- 
 ing, with a kind of tender regret, " Why are we 
 denied such a blessing, when the members of this 
 and that family in the neighbourhood are favoured 
 with it?" 
 
 But if it be indeed as you suppose, that tliey 
 would think of it with a secret aversion, and come 
 into it with apparent reluctance, if they can be in- 
 duced to come into it at all ; you would do well to 
 reflect, whether this profaneness and perversencss 
 may not, in a great measure at least, be owing to 
 that very neglect which I am now pressing you to 
 reform? Which if it be, it ought certainly to con- 
 vince you in the most powerful and effectual man- 
 ner, of the necessity of endeavouring to i-epair as 
 .soon as possible the mischief already done. And 
 if there be really an opposition, you ought to let 
 any in whom you discover it know, that your mea- 
 
 sures are fixed, and tliat you cannot and will not 
 resign that just authority, which the laws of God 
 and man give you in your own house, to the pctu- 
 lancy of their humour, or the impiety of their un- 
 happy temper. Make the trial, whether they will 
 dare to break with you^ rather than submit to so 
 easy a condition, as that of being present at your 
 hours of family worship. If it be a servant that 
 disputes it, you will no doubt think it a great bless- 
 ing to your family to rid it of so detestable a mem- 
 ber, in that relation. And if it be a child, grown 
 up to years that should be years of discretion, that 
 sets himself against this reformation, (and it is not 
 possible that any others should oppose you,) though 
 it is certain, that, wherever such a son of Beli&l be, 
 he must be a great grief to your heart, you will be 
 delivered from a -great deal of distress, which the 
 sight of his wickedness must daily give you, by 
 refusing him a place in your own family, which he 
 would only disgrace and corrupt, and leaving him 
 to praefise those irregularities and scandals which 
 always go along with such a presumptuous con- 
 tempt of religion, any where else rather than under 
 your own roof. 
 
 I can think of but one objection more, and that is, 
 (i. " That you may not know how to introduce a 
 practice which you have so long neglected." 
 
 But this is an objection so very soon removed, that 
 I hope, if nothing else lie in the way, your family 
 will not continue another week in the unhappy 
 circumstances in which your negligence has hitherto 
 kept it. I were unworthy the name of a minister of 
 the gospel, if, whatever my other engagements are, 
 I were not willing to give you my utmost assist- 
 ance, as soon as possible, in so good a work as the 
 reformation of this great and lamentable evil. Far 
 from thinking it a trouble to visit you, and spend 
 an hour w ith you upon such an occasion ; who 
 would not esteem it a refreshment, and a blessing, 
 to come and inform your domestics, when gathered 
 together for this purpose, how wise and happy a 
 resolution you had taken, to represent the reason 
 tliey have to rejoice in it, and to bless God who 
 had inspired you with it? And how sweet a work 
 would it be to perform it, as for the first time, im- 
 ploring the blessings of Providence and grace on 
 you and yours, and entreating those assistances of 
 his Holy Spirit, which may qualify you more abund- 
 antly for discharging your peculiar part in it, and 
 may render it tlie successful means of planting, or 
 of supporting and animating, a principle of true 
 religion in every soul under your care? Nor would 
 the joy and delight be confined to the minutes 
 spent with you at such a season ; it would be carried 
 home to the .study, and to the house of God ; and 
 the very remembrance of it would, for years to come, 
 encourage to other attempts of usefulness, and 
 strengthen our hands in the work of the Lord, 
 
TO THE MASTER OF A FAMILY. 
 
 125 
 
 And oh, my dear friend, whoever you are, be not 
 ashamed that a minister should on this occasion 
 tell your children and servants, that you are sen- 
 sible of your former neglect, and are determined, in 
 the strength of God, to practise a duty, which it has 
 indeed been criminal hitherto to omit. This is a 
 mean and unworthy shame, and would prevent our 
 reforming evils which are indeed shameful. It will 
 be a glory to you, to be willing and solicitous to 
 revive languishing religion ; a glory, to give to 
 other families an example, which, if they have the 
 wisdom and courage to follow it, will undoubtedly 
 bring down a rich variety of blessings on themselves, 
 and, if followed by considerable numbers, on the 
 public. At least, it will be an honour to you in the 
 sight of men, and what is infinitely more, in the 
 sight of God, to have made the generous effort; 
 and not to make the guilty neglect of former years 
 an excuse for continuing to neglect, what it should 
 rather be a powerful argument immediately to 
 practise. 
 
 But I would by no means insist upon it, that 
 divine worship should be introduced into your 
 fp.mily in the particular manner I have recommend- 
 ed. Use your own judgment, and pursue your own 
 inclination ; so that it be but effectually and im- 
 mediately done. You may perhaps think it con- 
 venient to call them together, and read over this 
 letter to them ; telling them at the conclusion, that 
 you are in your conscience convinced there is 
 reason in it which cannot be answered, and that 
 therefore you are resolved to act agreeably to it. 
 Ycu may then proceed to read a portion of Scripture, 
 and to pray with them in such a manner as you may 
 think most expedient. But in whatever manner it be 
 done, you will remember, that it must be with rever- 
 ence and solemnity, and with unfeigned fervour of 
 devotion, as in the sight of the heart-searching 
 Ij God. And you will further remember, that when 
 once introduced, it must be resolutely and con- 
 stantly carried on ; for to cast out this heavenly 
 guest, Vi ill in sonje degree be more shameful, tlian 
 not to admit it. But J hope, .sweet experience of the 
 pleasure of these duties will be in.stead of a thou- 
 sand arguments, to engage your adherence to them. 
 May God give you resolution immediately to make 
 the attempt, and may he assist and accept you, and 
 .scatter down every desirable blessing of providence 
 and of grace on you and yours ! So that this day 
 (for I hope it will be introduced this very day) 
 may become memorable in your lives, as a season 
 from whence you may date a prosperity and a joy 
 hitherto unknown, how happy soever you may have 
 been in former years : for very imperfect, I am sure, 
 must that domestic happiness be, in which domestic 
 religion has no part. 
 
 How shall I congratulate myself, if in conse- 
 
 quence of the representation and address I have 
 now been making to you, I may be the blessed in- 
 strument in the divine hand of inspiring you with 
 such a resolution ! What an additional bond will 
 then be added to our friendship, while God con- 
 tinues us together in life ! Yea, what an everlast- 
 ing bond of a nobler friendship, in a future state ; 
 where it will be, before the throne of God, my joy 
 to have given such admonitions as these, and yours, 
 faithfully and obediently to have received them ! 
 
 But if after all you will not be persuaded, but 
 will hearken to the voice of cowardice, and sloth, 
 and irrcligion, in defiance of so many awakening 
 and affecting reasons, you must answer it at large. 
 If your children and servants grow up in the neglect 
 of God, and pierce your heart with those sorrows, 
 which such servants, and especially such children, 
 are like to occasion ; if they raise profane and pro- 
 fligate families ; if they prove the curse of their 
 country, as well as the torment and ruin of those 
 most intimately related to them ; the guilt is in part f 
 yours, and (I repeat it again) you must answer it 
 to God at the great day, that you have omitted the 
 proper and appointed method of preventing such 
 fatal evils. In the mean time, you must answer 
 the omission to your own conscience ; which 
 probably has not been easy in former days, and in 
 future days may be yet more unquiet. Yes, Sir, 
 the memory of this address may continue to torment 
 you, if it cannot reform you : and if you do not for- 
 sake the house of God, as well as exclude God and 
 his worship from your own house, you will meet 
 with new wounds ; for new exhortations and ad- 
 monitions will arm reflection with new reproaches. 
 And in this uncomfortable manner you will probably 
 go on, till what has been the grief and shame of 
 your life, become the affliction of your dying bed; 
 nor dare I presume to assure you, that God will 
 answer your last cries for pardon. The best you can 
 expect under the consciousness of this guilt is, to 
 pass trembling to your final doom: — but whatever 
 that doom be, you must acquit your minister who 
 has given you this faithful warning an<l this let- 
 ter, transcribed as it were in the records of the 
 Divine Omniscience, .shall testify, that a matter of 
 so great importance hath not been wholly neglected, 
 hath not been coldly and slightly urged, by. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 and faithful .servant, 
 
 in our common Lord, 
 Northampton, P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 December 20, 1749. 
 
 ♦ If Uiis letter snoiilil be presented l)y .my of my bretlircn in tile 
 ministry to any of llieir licarers, llicy iii.iy (asily see, that this ex- 
 pression is applicable to them, as well as to those who may receive it 
 from niy hands. 
 
1>(J 
 
 PRAYERS FOR A FAMILY. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 To prevent, as fur as possililc, any iilijeilioii Hl\iili nii^lit arise from 
 not liiuiutr any proper form just "at liunil, I sliall lirri- subjoin twu, 
 wliicii 1 will riToinuHMui U) those who may hiipiieii nut to be bftltr 
 proviileil. Tlie first is, indeed, (so far as I know,) pretty iiecnliar, beinj;- 
 inteiiili'd for a family into w liieli prayer is just goins toue introdueed, 
 after bavin;; lieeii long neglected: tlic other is for morning or even- 
 ing, Willi sui b proper variations to suit either, as common sense will 
 direct. And I desire it may be observed, that it may Hell be iisi d as a 
 directory to those, who do not choose to use it as a form. And I appre- 
 hend it may be nui-t scrvueable in this view ; as my desire to reduce 
 it within narrow limits, and yet to suKgest as many iliousbts as possi. 
 ble, h.ilh ol)li^ed me to such conciseness of expression, that tlie ideas 
 are varied faster than many capacities may conveniently admit. Uiit I 
 pray God to enlarge your heart, that you may expatiate upon these 
 liintji to your ow u cdihcation, and that of all those that join with you. 
 
 A PRAYER, 
 
 Which muy he used ns an intvoduction to a stated 
 course of Family Prayer, where it hath been 
 formerly neylected. 
 
 On most great and glorious God ! When we con- 
 sider thee as the gracious Author of all those mer- 
 cies which we enjoy, in our persoii.s and in our 
 family, we have great reason to humble ourselves 
 before tliee, that we have not more solemnly ac- 
 knowledged that goodness on which we have so long 
 and so comfortably subsisted. Justly mighfest 
 thou, O thou Almighty Jehovah, have poured out 
 thy fury upon those, that herein have acted as if 
 they knew thee not, even upon this family which 
 hath not called on thy name. Bttt confessing and 
 lamenting this our sinful and inexcusable neglect, 
 we earnestly entreat thee, through Jesus Christ, to 
 pardon it, and to accept and strengthen the reso- 
 lution hich, in dependence on thy grace, we would 
 now form, to be for the future diligent in it, and to 
 do all we can in our respective stations to en- 
 courage and support it. 
 
 And we entreat tliee to bless those religious op- 
 portunities, which as a family we may enjoy. En- 
 able us to hear thy word with due attention : open 
 oirr minds to all the instructions we receive from it, 
 and bow our hearts to humble obedience. 
 
 Be favourably present with us, when we are offer- 
 ing our addresses to thy throne ! While we are 
 adoring thine infinite perfections, may we feel a 
 reverent and joyful sense of them upon our hearts ! 
 While we confess our sins before thee, may we in- 
 wardly abhor them, and mourn over them, and be 
 inspired witli firm resolutions that we will never 
 return to them any more, but will guard against 
 every appearance of evil ! Excite in our souls 
 earnest desires after tliose spiritual blessings which 
 we ask at thine hands ! May we intercede for 
 others with fervent charity ! May we acknowledge 
 thy mercies with the most lively gratitude, and de- 
 vote ourselves to thee with full purpose of heart ! 
 
 And on the whole, may every one of us find the 
 
 divine life growing and advancing in our souls by 
 every opportunity of this nature, that we may re- 
 joice in each other and in fliec ; and that true re- 
 ligion being (irmly established in our own hearts, 
 may by our means be communicated to others, so 
 far as our inlluence over (hem may extend ; till at 
 length, having worshipi)ed thee together in such in- 
 stitutions as these in an holy and acceptable manner, 
 we may join that large and blessed family above, 
 which is for ever rejoicing in thy presence ; through 
 Jesus Christ oiirLord; to whom, with thee, O Father, 
 and thine Holy Spirit, be everlasting praises. 
 Amen ! 
 
 A PRAYER FOR A FAMILY, 
 
 To he used either morning or cvcniny, with such 
 variations as may easily he understood by any who 
 are able to read it. ' 
 
 Most Great, Eternal, and Ever-blessed 
 God ! We, thine unwortliy creatures, 
 desire at tliis time with all humility to bow our- 
 .sclvcs down in thine awful and majestic presence, 
 acknowledging thine inlinite perfections and glories. 
 — [We adore thee as the first and the last, the 
 greatest and the best, of beings; who art originally 
 and necessarily possessed of knowledge and power, 
 wisdom and righteousness, holiness and truth, 
 mercy and goodness, in degrees which no other 
 being can conceive.] — We [)ay thee our homage, 
 as the author and support of universal nature, 
 the Lord and life of the creation. We acknow- 
 ledge ourselves thy creatures, whose hodies and 
 souls have been formed by thine hand, and con- 
 tinually maintained and defended by thy care and 
 favour. 
 
 Most justly mightest thou therefore, 
 O our heavenly Father, have expected 
 from us the most constant gratitude, duty, and 
 obedience : but we humbly confess before thee, 
 (and we desire to do it with the deepest humilia- 
 tion and shame, remorse and sorrow,) that we 
 have been very much wanting; in those returns ; 
 yea, that we have all most grievously offended 
 thee. — [We confess, O thou Holy, Holy, Holy, 
 Lord God, that we arc polluted and guilty creatures, 
 and so most unworthy and unfit to appear in thy 
 presence.] — We acknowledge, O Lord, that we 
 were sliapen in iniquity, and in sin did our mothers 
 conceive us ; and that we have, from our very child- 
 hood, been renewing our provocations and trans- 
 gressions in our thoirghts, our words, and actions ; 
 and all these attended witli circumstances of high 
 aggravation. — [We own and lament, O thou most 
 gracious Sovereign, that we have in numberless 
 
PRAYERS FOR A FAMILY. 
 
 127 
 
 instances, negligently, yea, and presumptuously, 
 broken those wise and holy laws which thou gavest 
 us for our good ; and that by the breach of them we 
 have deserved thy righteous displeasure.] — So that 
 we might have been made examples of justice, and 
 spectacles of misery, to all thy rational creation. 
 — [We might long since have been cut off from this 
 pleasant abode which thy goodness has assigned 
 us, and been sent down to everlasting darkness, 
 where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not 
 quenched.] 
 
 But we humbly implore thy pardon 
 pardon and and mercy in Christ Jesus our Lord, 
 Chrrst t^'inc only-begotten and well-beloved 
 Son ; who hath, by thine appointment, 
 O compassionate Father, visited this world of ours, 
 not only to give it the most excellent instructions, 
 confirmed by the most astonishing miracles, and 
 recommended by the most amiable example ; but 
 also to redeem us to God by his blood, and to offer 
 uj) his own life a sacrifice for us. — He was delivered 
 for our offences, and raised again for our justifica- 
 tion : and as he is now ascended into heaven, there 
 to make a prevailing intercession for all that come 
 unto God through him, we presume to approach 
 thy sacred presence with all becoming regards to 
 him, humbly pleading that atoning blood which 
 he shed on the cross, and that all-perfect merit and 
 righteousness of his, by which alone sinners maj' 
 draw near unto thee with acceptance. And we en- 
 treat thee for his sake, and in regard to our relation 
 to him, fully and freely to forgive us all our num- 
 berless transgressions, and to lie graciously recon- 
 ciled to us ; yea, to take us, unworthy as we are, 
 into the number of thy dear children. For his sake 
 we also humbly entreat thee to free us from the 
 power of sin, as well as from its guilt. Shed down, 
 O thou God of all grace, thy Holy Spirit upon our 
 hearts in a rich abundance, to inspire us with a 
 hatred of every thing that is displeasing to thee, 
 and to form us to a love of universal goodness, and 
 a desire of making continual improvements in it ! 
 
 [Fill us, O Lord, we humbly beseech thee, with 
 a fervent love to thy blessed self. In all things 
 may we be obedient to thy holy precepts, and sub- 
 missive to thy wise and gracious disposal ! May we 
 be united to Christ by a sincere faith, which shall 
 work by love, and show itself in keeping his com- 
 mandments, as well as trusting his atonement, in- 
 tercession, and grace ! May we be always led by the 
 Floly Spirit of God, and clierisli his influence on 
 our hearts as the Spirit of holiness and of love ! To 
 our brethren of mankind may we be strictly just, 
 ■ind aflectionately kind, doing to others as we could 
 reasonably desire they should do to us, and rejoicing 
 in every opportunity of advancing their temporal or 
 spiritual happiness!] 
 While we continue here in this uncertain world. 
 
 give us, if it be thy blessed will, food to eat and 
 raiment to put on, health of body and cheerfulness 
 of mind, and whatever other enjoyments thou seest 
 necessary to make our journey through life com- 
 fortable ! But let us not have our portion on earth ! 
 May our hearts be more and more indifferent to it, 
 and our views continually raised above it! — [May 
 we learn to govern with strict authority our appe- 
 tites and passions, and to deny ourselves wherever 
 the precepts of thy gospel require it ! On the whole, 
 may every part of our conduct, in every relation 
 and circumstance of life, adorn religion ; and may 
 the lustre of our good works engage many around 
 us to glorify our Father in heaven !] — May we con- 
 tinually remember the shortness of time, and the 
 importance of eternity ; and behave in such a man- 
 ner, that should we be summoned away ever so 
 suddenly, death may not be a terrible, but a joyful, 
 surprise ! Support us, O Lord, in our dying beha- 
 viour ! Receive our departing spirits to the em- 
 braces of thy mercy, and give us a triumphant part 
 in the resurrection of the just ! 
 
 We pray for the advancement of thy 
 
 1 r ^1 Intercession. 
 
 gospel in tlie world, and for the conver- 
 sion of Jews and Gentiles to the faith as it is in 
 Jesus. We pray, O Lord, for the progress and 
 improvement of the reformation, abroad and at 
 home. We affectionately recommend to thee our 
 rightful sovereign king George, and all the branches 
 of his family ; entreating thee to continue to us, by 
 their means, the invaluable blessing of the pro- 
 testant succession. We entreat thee by thy grace 
 to animate all, who are distinguished by power, 
 riches, or other advantages, that they may improve 
 all their talents for the public good : and we earnestly 
 pray, that the ministers of thy gospel of every de- 
 nomination, may with united affection, ardent zeal, 
 and eminent success, be carrying on the work of 
 the Lord ! 
 
 May it please thee, O thou God of mercy, to 
 spread among Christians of every profession, a 
 spirit of forbearance, candour, and love ; and to visit 
 all that are in any kind of allliction, whether per- 
 sonal or relative, of mind, body, or estate ! Gra- 
 ciously support them under tlicir sorrows, and in 
 thine own time send thcni deliverance ! 
 
 We beseech thee to bless us as a family ; whe- 
 ther we preside over it, or belong to it, as children, 
 sojourners, or servants, may we all be found in a 
 faithful discharge of our duty to thee, and to each 
 other ! May our united and retired devotions be so 
 performed, as to have the happiest influence on our 
 temper and our conduct ! 
 
 And now, O most gracious and merci- „, , , . 
 
 . Thanksgiving. 
 
 nil Father, we desire with all our hearts to 
 bless and adore thine holy name, for all thy great and 
 unmerited goodness to us, and to the whole human 
 race. We praise thee for our creation and prescrv- 
 
1-28 
 
 PRAYERS FOR A FAMILY. 
 
 ation, lor lioultli and ease, for food and raiment, for 
 liberty and safety, for friends and success ; and 
 above all, for our redemption, for the inestimable 
 privilege of approaching; to thee tbrouj-h a Me- 
 diator, and for the rich and full provision thou hast 
 made in him for the forgiveness of our daily sins, 
 for our receiving all the supplies of grace we stand 
 in need of here, and our enjoying everlasting hap- 
 piness hereafter. And under a sense of thy mer- 
 cies, we desire to devote ourselves to thee as the 
 Lord our God, and renew our covenant with thee 
 through our Lord .lesus Christ ; humbly resolving, 
 by the assistance of thy Spirit and grace, to serve 
 thee with all good fidelity unto the end of our lives. 
 
 We particularly bless thee for the mercies of the 
 day [or night] past, and would humbly commit our- 
 selves to thy gracious protection and favour this 
 night, [or day,] entreating thee to guard us from all 
 evil, and to grant, that at our next assembling toge- 
 ther we may have reason to unite our praises for the 
 continuance of thy goodness. And may we be per- 
 
 pctually advancing in our preparation for that 
 heavenly world, where wc hope to worship thee 
 without any of those imperfections which now at- 
 tend us : which wc ask and hope, through the merits 
 of thy Son Christ Jesus, in whom we have righte- 
 ousness and strength, and in whose name and words 
 we conclude our addresses, calling on thee as Our 
 Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name: 
 thy kingdom come : thy will be done on earth, as it 
 is in heaven : give us this day our daily bread : and 
 forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that 
 trespass against us : and lead us not into temptation, 
 but deliver us from evil : for thine is the kingdom, 
 and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. 
 Amen ! 
 
 N. B. As this prayer may lie (leliherately read over in about ten 
 niiiuites, or leaving out what is included in crotchets in half a quarter 
 of an hour, I think I may take it for granted, that the affair is brought 
 to a crisis: for if just after reading this letter, being thus disarmed of 
 every excuse as to the want of necessary helps, you will not call your 
 family together to attend to it for so small a s|iaee of time, or to put lip 
 some other petitions with them, I fear it is a sad sign you will live 
 and die in the neglect of this important duty, and I must leave you to 
 answer it in tlie presence of God. 
 
SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES 
 
 IN 
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 THE HON. COLONEL JAMES GARDINER, 
 
 WHO WAS SLAIN AT THE BATTLE OF PRESTONPANS, SEPTEMDEK, 21, 1745. 
 WITH 
 
 AN APPENDIX, 
 
 RELATING TO THE 
 
 ANCIENT FAMILY OF THE MUNROS OF FOWLIS. 
 
 K 
 
TO 
 
 DAVID GARDINER, ESQ. 
 
 CORNET IN SIR JOHN COPE'S REGIMENT OF DRAGOONS. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 While my heart is following you, with a truly paternal solicitude, through all the dangers of military 
 life, in wliich you are tlius early engaged, anxious for your safety amidst the instruments of death, and 
 the far more dangerous allurements of vice ; I feel a peculiar pleasure in being able at length, though 
 after such long delays, to put into your hands the Memoirs with wliich I now present you. They con- 
 tain many particulars, which would have been worthy of your attentive notice, had they related to a 
 person of the most distant nation or age ; but they will, I doubt not, command your peculiar regard, as 
 they are sacred to the memory of that excellent man from whom you had the lionour to derive your birth, 
 and by whose generous and aflectionate care you have been laid under all the obligations which the best 
 of fathers could confer on a most beloved son. 
 
 Here, Sir, you see a gentleman, who witli all the advantages of a liberal and religious education, added 
 to every natural accomplishment that could render hinl most agreeable, entered, before he had attained 
 the stature of a man, on those arduous and generous services to whicii you arc devoted, and behaved in 
 them with a gallantry and courage which will always give a splendour to his name among the British 
 soldiery, and render him an example to all olTiecrs of his rank. But, alas! amidst all the intrepidity of 
 the martial hero, you see him vanquished by the blandishments of pleasure, and in chace of it plunging 
 himself into follies and vices, for which no want of education or genius could have been a suflicient 
 excuse. You behold him urging the ignoble and fatal pursuit, unmoved by the terrors which death was 
 continually darting around him, and the most signal deliverances by which Providence again and again 
 rescued him from those terrors ; till at length he was reclaimed by an ever-memorable interposition of 
 divine grace. Then you have the pleasure of seeing him become in good earnest a convert to Chris- 
 tianity, and by speedy advances growing up into one of its brightest ornaments : his mind continually 
 filled with the great ideas which the gospel of our Redeemer suggests, and bringing the blessed influence 
 of its sublime piincii)lcs info every relation of militarj' and civil, of public and domestic, life. You trace 
 him persevering in a steady and uniform course of goodness, through a long series of honourable and 
 prosperous years, the deiiglit of all that were so happy as to know him, and, in his sphere, the most 
 faithful guardian of his country ; till at last, worn out with honourable labours, and broken with infirmi- 
 ties which they had hastened upon him before the time, you see him forgetting them at once at the call 
 of duty and Providence ; with all the generous ardour of his most vigorous days rushing on the enemies 
 of religion and liberty, sustaining their shock with the most deliberate fortitude, when deserted by those 
 that should have supported him, and cheerfully sacrificing the little remains of a mortal life in the tri- 
 umphant views of a glorious immortality. 
 
 This, Sir, is the noble object I present to your view ; and you will, I hope, fix your eye continually 
 upon it, and will never allow yourself for one day to forget, that this illustrious man is Colonel Gardiner, 
 your ever-honoured father ; who having approved his fidelity to the death, and received a crown of 
 life, .seems, as it were, by what you here read, to be calling out to you from amidst the cloud of witnesses 
 ■with which you are surrounded, and urging you by every generous, fender, filial sentiment, to mark the 
 footsteps of his Christian race, and strenuously to maintain that combat where the victory is through 
 divine grace certain, and the prize an eternal kingdom in the heavens. 
 
 The last number of the Appendix introduces a most worthy triumvirate of your father's friends, follow- 
 ing him through the same heroic path, to an end like his ; and with pleasure pouring forth their lives in 
 
 K 2 
 
13-2 
 
 TO DAVID GARDINER, ESQ. 
 
 Itldod. for llio rescue aiul preservation of flieir dearer eouidry. And I trust, the eloquence of their ex- 
 amples w ill he prevalent with many, to emulate the many virtues for whidi they were (conspicuous. 
 
 My hopes, Sir, thai all these jiowerful motives will especially have their full eflicacy on you, are 
 prcatly eneoiirased by the certainly which 1 have of your bcin^ well acquainted with the evidence of 
 Christianity in its full extent ; a criminal ignorance of which, in the midst of j;reat advantages for learn- 
 injj them, leaves so niany of our younfj people a prey to deism, and so to vice and ruin, which "enerally 
 briufi u)) its rear. My life would be a continual burthen to me, if I had not a consciousness in the sight 
 of Cod, that during the years in w hich the important trust of your education was committed to my care, 
 1 had laid before you the proofs both of natural and revealed religion, in what I assuredly esteem to be, 
 with regard to the judgment, if they are carefully cxanuncd, an irresistible light; and that I had endea- 
 voured to attend them w ith those addresses which might be most likely to impress your heart. You have 
 not, dear Sir, forgotten, and I am confident you can never entirely forget, the assiduity with which I 
 have laboured to form your mind, not only to what might be ornamental to you in human life, but above 
 all, to a true taste of what is really excellent, and an early contempt of those vanities by which the 
 generality of our youth, especially in your station, are debased, enervated, and undone. My private as 
 well as public addresses for this purj)ose will, I know, be remembered by you, and the tears of tenderness 
 with which they have so often been accompanied :. and may they be so remembered, that tliey who are most 
 tenderly concerned, maybe comforted under the loss of such an inestimable friend as Colonel Gardiner, 
 by seeing that his character, in all its most amiable and resjjlendent parts, lives in you ; and that, how 
 dilTicult soever it may be to act up to that height of expectation with which the eyes of the world will be 
 fixed on the son of such a fatlier, you arc, in the strength of divine grace, attempting it ; at least are fol- 
 lowing him with generous emulation and with daily solicitude, that the steps may be less unequal ! 
 
 May the Lord God of your father, and I will add, of both your pious and honourable parents, animate 
 your heart more and more with such views and sentiments as these ! May he guard your life amidst every 
 scene of danger, and be a protection and blessing to those that are yet unborn ; and may he give you, in 
 some far distant period of time, to resign it by a gentler dissolution than the hero from whom you sprung, 
 or, if unerring wisdom appoint otherwise, to end it with equal glory ! 
 
 I am, dear Sir, 
 
 Your ever faithful, affectionate friend, 
 and obliged humble servant, 
 
 Northampton, July 1, 1747. 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES 
 
 IN 
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 or THE 
 
 HON. COLONEL JAMES GARDINER. 
 
 § 1. When I promised the public some larger ac- 
 count of the life and character of this illustrious 
 person, than I could conveniently insert in my ser- 
 mon on the sad event of his death, I was secure 
 that if Providence continued my capacity of w riting;, 
 I should not wholly disappoint the expectation. 
 For I was furnished with a variety of particu- 
 lars which appeared to me worthy of general 
 notice, in consequence of that intimate friendship 
 with which he had honoured me during the six 
 last years of his life; a friendship, which led him to 
 open his heart to me in repeated conversations with 
 an unbounded confidence, (as he then assured me, 
 beyond what he had used with any other man liv- 
 ing,) so far as religious experiences were concerned ; 
 and I had also received several very valuable letters 
 from him, during the time of our absence from 
 each other, which contained most genuine and edi- 
 fying traces of his Christian character. Uut I hoped 
 further to learn many valuable particulars from the 
 papers of his own cJoset, and from his letters to 
 other friends, as well as from what they more cir- 
 cumstantially knew concerning him ; I therefore 
 determined to delay the execution of my promise till 
 1 could enjoy these advantages for performing it in 
 the most satisfactory manner ; nor have I, on the 
 whole, reason to regret that determination. 
 
 § 2. I shall not trouble the reader with all the 
 causes which concurred to retard these expected 
 assistances for almost a whole year ; the chief of 
 them were, the tedious languishing illness of his 
 atQicted lady, through whose hands it was proper 
 the papers should pass ; together with (he confusion 
 
 into which the rebels had thrown them when they 
 ransacked his seat at Bankton, where most of them 
 were deposited. But having now received such of 
 them as have escaped their voracious hands, and 
 could conveniently be collected and transmitted, I 
 set myself with the greatest pleasure to perform 
 what I esteem, not merely a tribute of gratitude to 
 the memory of my invaluable friend, (though never 
 was the memory of any mortal man more precious 
 and sacred to me,) but of duty to God and to my fel- 
 low-creatures ; for I have a most cheerful hope that 
 the narrative I am now to write will, under the 
 divine blessing, be the means of spreading, what of 
 all things in the world every benevolent heart will 
 most desire to spread, a warm and lively sense of 
 religion. 
 
 § .3. My own heart has been so much edified and 
 animated by what I have read in the memoirs of 
 persons who have been eminent for wisdom and 
 piety, that I cannot but wish the treasure may be 
 more and more increased; and I would hope the 
 world may gather the like valuable fruits from the 
 Life I am now attempting ; not only as it will con- 
 tain very singular circumstances, which may excite 
 a general curiosity, but as it comes attended with 
 some other particular advantages. 
 
 § 4. The reader is here to survey a character of 
 such eminent and various goodness, as might de- 
 mand veneration, and inspire him with a desire to 
 imitate it too, had it appeared in the obscurest rank : 
 but it will surely command some peculiar regard 
 when viewed in so elevated and important a station ; 
 especially as it shone not in ecclesiastical, but 
 
134 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 military, lilV, where the temptations arc so many, 
 and the prevaleney of the contrary cliaracter so 
 ^reat, that it may seem no inconsiderahle praise and 
 felicity to be free from dissolute vice, and to retain 
 what in most other professions might be esteemed 
 only a mediocrity of virtue. It may surely, with 
 the highest justice, be expected that the title and 
 bravery of Colonel Gardiner will invite many of our 
 olliccrs and soldiers, to whom his name has been 
 long honourable and dear, to peruse this account of 
 him with some peculiar attention ; in consequence 
 of which it may be a means of increasing the num- 
 ber, and brightening the character, of those who are 
 already adorning their oflice, their country, and 
 their religion ; and of reclaiming those who will see 
 rather what they ought to be than what they are. 
 On the whole, to the gentlemen of the sword I 
 would particularly ofler these memoirs, as theirs by 
 so distinguished a title ; yet I am iirmiy persuaded 
 there are none whose office is so sacred, or whose 
 proficiency in the religious life is so advanced, but 
 they may find something to demand" their thankful- 
 ness, and to awaken their emulation. 
 
 § 5. Colonel James Gardiner, of whom we write, 
 was the son of Captain Patrick Gardiner, of the 
 family of Torwoodhead, by Mrs. Mary Hodge, of 
 the family of Gladsmuir. The captain, who was 
 master of a handsome estate, served many years in 
 the army of King William and Queen Anne, and 
 died abroad with the British forces in Germany, 
 quickly after the battle of Hochstet, through the 
 fatigues he underwent in the duties of that cele- 
 brated campaign. He had a company in the regi- 
 ment of foot, once commanded by Colonel Hodge, 
 his valiant brother-in-law, who was slain at the head 
 of that regiment (my memorial from Scotland says) 
 at the battle of Steenkirk, which was fought in the 
 year 1692. 
 
 § 6. Mrs. Gardiner, our Colonel's mother, was a 
 lady of a very valuable character ; but it pleased 
 God to exercise her with very uncommon trials : for 
 she not only lost her husband and her brother in the 
 service of their country, as before related, but also 
 her eldest son, Mr. Robert Gardiner, on the day 
 w hich completed the 16th year of his age, at the 
 siege of Namur, in 1G95. But there is great reason 
 to believe God blessed these various and heavy af- 
 flictions, as the means of forming her to that eminent 
 degree of piety which will render her memory 
 honourable as long as it continues. 
 
 § 7. Her second son, the w orthy person of whom 
 I am now to give a more particular account, was 
 born at Carriden, in Linlitligow shire, on the 10th 
 of January, A. D. 1687-8 ; the memorable year of 
 that glorious revolution which he justly esteemed 
 among the happiest of all events. So that w hen he 
 was slain in the defence of those liberties which God 
 then by so gracious a providence rescued from utter 
 
 destruction, i. e. on the 21st of September, 1745, he 
 was aged C)7 years, 8 months, and 11 days. 
 
 § 8. The annual return of his birth-day was ob- 
 served by him, in the latter and better years of his 
 life, in a manner very dilferent from what is com- 
 monly practised : for, instead of making it a day of 
 festivity, I am told, he rather distinguished it as a 
 season of more than ordinary humiliation before 
 God ; both in commemoration of those mercies 
 which he received in the first opening of life, and 
 under an alfectionate sense, as well of his long 
 alienation from the great Author and support of his 
 being, as of the many imperfections which he la- 
 mented, in the best of his days and services. 
 
 § 9. I have not met with many things remarkable 
 concerning the early years of his life, only that his 
 mother took care to instruct him with great tender- 
 ness and affection in the principles of true Christi- 
 anity. He was also trained up in humane literature 
 at the school at Linlithgow, where he made a very 
 considerable progress in the languages. I remem- 
 ber to have heard him quote some passages of the 
 Latin classics very pertinently ; though his employ- 
 ment in life, and the various turns which his mind 
 took under different impulses in succeeding years, 
 prevented him from cultivating such studies. 
 
 § 10. The good effects of his mother's prudent 
 and exemplary care were not so conspicuous as .she 
 wished and hoped, in the younger part of her son's 
 life ; yet there is great reason to believe they were 
 not entirely lost. As they were probably the occa- 
 sion of many convictions, which in his younger 
 years were overborne ; so I doubt not, that when 
 religious impressions took that strong hold of his 
 heart, which they afterwards did, that stock of know- 
 ledge which had been so early laid up iu liis mind 
 was found of considerable service. And I have 
 heard him make the observation, as an encourage- 
 ment to parents and other pious friends, to do their 
 duty, and to hope for those good consequences of it, 
 w hich may not immediately appear. 
 
 § 11. Could his mother, or a very religious aunt, 
 (of whose good instructions and exhortations I have 
 often heard him speak with pleasure,) have pre- 
 vailed, he would not have thought of a military 
 life ; from which, it is no wonder, these ladies en- 
 deavoured to dissuade him, considering the mourn- 
 ful experience they had of tlie dangers attending it, 
 and the dear relatives they had lost already by it. 
 But it suited his taste ; and the ardour of his spirit, 
 animated by the persuasions of a friend who greatly 
 urged it,* was not to be restrained. Nor will the 
 reader wonder that, thus excited and supported, it 
 easily overbore their tender remonstrances, when 
 he knows tliat this lively youth fought three duels 
 before he attained to the stature of a man ; in one 
 
 * I suppose this to have been Brigadier-General Rue, who had from 
 his childhood a pccuhar affection for him. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 135 
 
 of which, when he was but eight years old, he re- 
 ceived from a boy much older than himself, a 
 wound in his right cheek, the scar of which was 
 always very apparent. The false sense of honour 
 which instigated liim to it, might seem indeed 
 something excusable in those unripencd years, and 
 considering the profession of his father, brother, 
 and uncle ; but I have often heard him mention this 
 rashness with that regret, which the reflection would 
 naturally give to so wise and good a man in the 
 maturity of life. And I have been informed that, 
 after his remarkable conversion, he declined ac- 
 cepting a challenge, with this calm and truly great 
 reply, which, in a man of his experienced bravery, 
 was exceeding graceful : " I fear sinning, though 
 you know I do not fear fighting." 
 
 § 12. He served first as a cadet, which must have 
 been very early ; and then, at fourteen years old, 
 he bore an ensign's commission in a Scotch regi- 
 ment in the Dutch service ; in which he continued 
 till the year 1702, when (if my information be right) 
 he received an ensign's commission from Queen 
 Anne, which he bore in the battle of Ramilies, 
 being then in the 19th year of his age. In this 
 ever-memorable action he received a wound in his 
 mouth by a musket ball, which hath often been 
 reported to be the occasion of his conversion. That 
 report was a mistaken one : but as some very re- 
 markable circumstances attended this affair, which 
 I have had the pleasure of hearing more than once 
 from his own mouth, I hope my reader will excuse 
 me if I give him so uncommon a story at large. 
 
 § 13. Our young officer was of a party in the for- 
 lorn hope, and was commanded on what seemed 
 almost a desperate service, to dispossess the French 
 of the church-yard at Ramilies, where a consider- 
 al)le number of them were posted to remarkable 
 advantage. They succeeded much better than was 
 expected : and it may well be supposed that Mr. 
 Gardiner, who had before been in several encoun- 
 ters, and had the view of making his fortune to 
 animate the natural intrepidity of his spirit, was 
 glad of such an opportunity of signalizing himself. 
 Accordingly, he iiad planted his rolours on an ad- 
 vanced ground ; and while he was calling to his 
 men (probably in that horrid language, which is so 
 peculiar a disgrace to our soldiery, and so absurdly 
 <^)mnion in such articles of extreme danger) he 
 received a shot into his mouth ; which, without 
 beating out any of his teeth, or touching the fore 
 l)art of his tongue, went through his neck, and 
 < nmc out about an inch and a half on the left side 
 of the vertebra-. Not feeling at first the pain of 
 the stroke, he wondered what was become of the 
 ball, and in the wildness of his surprise began to 
 suspect he had swallowed it ; but dropping soon 
 lifter, he traced the passage of it by his finger, 
 when he could discover it no other way : which I 
 
 mention as one circumstance, among many which 
 occur, to make it probable that the greater part of 
 those who fall in battle by these instruments of 
 death, feel very little anguish from the most mortal 
 wounds. 
 
 § 14. This accident happened about five or six in 
 the evening, on the 23d day of May, in the year 
 1706 ; and the army pursuing its advantages against 
 the French, without ever regarding the wounded, 
 (which was, it seems, the duke of Marlborough's 
 constant method,) our young officer lay all night in 
 the field, agitated, as may well be supposed, with a 
 great variety of thoughts. He assured me, that 
 when he reflected upon the circumstances of his 
 wound, that a ])all should, as he then conceived it, 
 go through his head without killing him, he thought 
 God had preserved him by miracle ; and therefore 
 assuredly concluded that he should live, aban- 
 doned and desperate as his state then seemed to be. 
 Yet (which to me appeared very astonishing) he 
 had little thoughts of humbling himself before God, 
 and returning to him after the wanderings of a life 
 so licentiously begun. But expecting to recover, 
 his mind was taken up with contrivances to secure 
 his gold, of which he had a pretty deal about him ; 
 and he had recourse to a very odd expedient, which 
 proved successful. Expecting to be stripped, he 
 first took a handful of that clotted gore, of which 
 he was frequently obliged to clear his mouth, or he 
 would have been choked, and putting it into his 
 left hand, he took out his money, (which I think 
 was about nineteen pistoles,) and shutting his hand, 
 and besmearing the back part of it with blood, he 
 kept it in this ])osition till the blood dried in such 
 a manner, that his hand could not easily fall open, 
 though any sudden surprise should happen, in which 
 he might lose the presence of mind which that con- 
 cealment otherwise would have required. 
 
 § 1.5. In the morning the French, who were mas- 
 ters of that spot, though their forces were defeated 
 at some distance, came to plunder the slain ; and 
 seeing him to appearance almost expiring, one of 
 them was just applying a sword to his breast, to 
 destroy the little remainder of life; when in the 
 critical moment, upon whic^h all the extraordinary 
 events of such a life as his afterwards proved were 
 su.'ipended, a cordelier, who attended the plun- 
 derers, interposed, taking him by his dress for a 
 Frenchman ; and said, " Do not kill that poor 
 child." Our young soldier heard all that passeff, 
 though he was not able to speak one word ; and 
 opening his eyes, made a sign for something to 
 drink. They gave him a sup of some spirituous 
 li(luor, which happened to be at hand ; by which, 
 he said, he found a more sensible refreshment than 
 he could remember from any thing he had tasted 
 either before or since. Then signifying to the friar 
 to lean down his car to his mouth, he employed the 
 
136 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 first cflbrts of his feeble breath in tellin-j him (what, 
 alas ! was a contriveil falsehood) tliat lie was ne- 
 phew to the governor of Huy, a neutral town in 
 the neiphbourhood, and that, if he eonld take any 
 nu lhod of conve.N ing him thither, lie did not doubt 
 but his uncle would liberally reward him. He 
 had indeed a friend at Huy, (who, 1 think, was 
 governor, and, if I mistake not, Iiad been ac- 
 (juaiiited with the cavitain, his father,) from whom 
 he expected a kind reception : but the relation was 
 only pretended. On hearing- this, they laid him on 
 a sort of hand-barrow, and sent him by a file of 
 mustiueteers towards the place ; but the men lost 
 their way, and got into a wood towards the even- 
 ing, in which they %vere obliged to continue all 
 night. The poor patient's wound being still un- 
 dressed, it is not to be wondered that by this time 
 it raged violently. The anguish of it engaged him 
 earnestly to beg, that they would either kill him 
 outright, or leave him there to die, without the tor- 
 ture of any further tnotion ; and indeed they were 
 obliged to rest for a considerable time, on account 
 of their own weariness. Thus he spent the second 
 night in the open air, without any thing more than 
 a common bandage to stanch the blood. He hath 
 often mentioned it as a most astonishing providence, 
 that he did not bleed to death ; which, under God, 
 he ascribed to the remarkable coldness of these two 
 nights. 
 
 § 16. Judging it quite unsafe to attempt carrying 
 him to Huy, from whence they were now several 
 miles distant, his convoy took him, early in the 
 morning, to a convent in the neighbourhood ; where 
 he was hospitably received, and treated with great 
 kindness and tenderness. But the cure of his wound 
 was committed to an ignorant barber-surgeon, who 
 lived near the house ; the best shift that could then 
 be made, at a time when it may easily be supposed 
 persons of ability in their profession had their 
 hands full of employment. The tent which this 
 artist applied, was almost like a peg driven into 
 the wound; and gentlemen of skill and experience, 
 when they came to hear of the manner in which he 
 was treated, wondered how he could possibly sur- 
 vive such management. But by the blessing of 
 God on these applications, rough as they were, he 
 recovered in a few months. The lady abbess, vho 
 called him her son, treated him with the affection 
 and care of a mother ; and he always declared, that 
 every thing which he saw within these walls was 
 conducted with the strictest decency and decorum. 
 He received a great many devout admonitions from 
 the ladies there ; and they would fain have per- 
 suaded him to acknowledge what they thought so 
 miraculous a deliverance, by embracing the catho- 
 lic faith, as they were pleased to call it. But they 
 could not succeed : for though no religion lay near 
 his heart, yet he had too much of the spirit of a 
 
 gentleman lightly to change that form of religion, 
 which he wore (as it were) loose about him; as well 
 as too much good sense, to swallow those monstrous 
 absurdities of popery, which immediately presented 
 tlicniselves to him, unacquainted as he was with the 
 niceties of the controversy. 
 
 § 17. When his liberty was regained by an ex- 
 change of prisoners, and his health thoroughly 
 established, he was far from rendering unto the 
 Lord according to that wonderful display of divine 
 mercy which he had experienced. I know very little 
 of the particulars of those wild, tlioughtless, and 
 wretched years, which lay between the l!)th and the 
 3()th of his life ; except it be, that he frequently ex- 
 perienced the divine goodness in renewed instances, 
 particularly in preserving him in several hot mili- 
 tary actions, in all which he never received so much 
 as a wound after this, forward as he was in tempt- 
 ing danger; and yet, that all these years were spent 
 in an entire alienation from God, and an eager pur- 
 suit of animal pleasure, as his supreme good. The 
 series of criminal amours, in which he was almost 
 incessantly engaged during this time, must probably 
 have afforded some remarkable adventures and oc- 
 currences ; but the memory of them is perished. 
 Nor do I think it unworthy notice here, that amidst 
 all the intimacy of our friendship, and the many 
 hours of cheerful as well as serious converse which 
 we spent together, I never remember to have heard 
 him speak of any of these intrigues, otherwise than, 
 in the general, with deep and solemn abhorrence. 
 This I the rather mention, as it seemed a most 
 genuine proof of his unfeigned repentance ; which, 
 I think, there is great reason to suspect, when 
 people seem to take a pleasure in relating and de- 
 scribing scenes of vicious indulgence, which yet 
 they profess to have disapproved and forsaken. 
 
 § 18. Amidst all these pernicious wanderings 
 from the paths of religion, virtue, and happiness, 
 he approved himself so well in his military charac- 
 ter, that he was made a lieutenant in that year, viz. 
 1706 : and, I am told, he was very quickly after 
 promoted to a cornet's commission in Lord Stair's 
 regiment of the Scotch Greys ; and on the 31st of 
 January, in the year 1714-15, was made captain- 
 lieutenant in Colonel Ker's regiment of dragoons. 
 He had the honour of being known to the Eail of 
 Stair some time before, and was made his aid-de- 
 camp ; and when, upon his lordship's being ap- 
 pointed ambassador from his late majesty to the 
 court of France, he made so splendid an entrance 
 into Paris, Captain Gardiner was his master of the 
 horse ; and I have been told, that a great deal of the 
 care of that admirably well-adjusted ceremony fell 
 upon him ; so that he gained great credit by the 
 manner in which he conducted it. Under the be- 
 nign influences of his lordship's favour (which to 
 the last day of his life he retained) a captain's com- 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 137 
 
 mission was procured for him, dated July 22, in the 
 year 1715, in the regiment of dragoons commanded 
 by Colonel Stanhope ; (then Earl of Harrington ;) 
 and, in the year 1717, he was advanced to the ma- 
 jority of that regiment ; in which office he continued 
 till it was reduced, on November the lOth, V/IS; 
 when he was put out of commission. But then his 
 majesty. King George I. was so thoroughly apprized 
 of his faithful and important services, that he gave 
 him his sign-manual, entitling him to the first majo- 
 rity that should become vacant, in any regiment of 
 horse or dragoons ; which happened, about five 
 years after, to be in Croft's regiment of dragoons, in 
 which he received a commission, dated June the 
 1st, 1724 ; and on the 20th of July, the same year, 
 be was made major of an older regiment, command- 
 ed by the Earl of Stair. 
 
 § 19. As I am now speaking of so many of his 
 military preferments, I will despatch the account of 
 them by observing, that on the 2^4th of January, 
 1729-30, he was advanced to the rank of lieutenant- 
 colonel in the same regiment, long under tlie com- 
 mand of Lord Cadogan ; with whose friendship this 
 brave and vigilant officer was also honoured for 
 many years. And he continued in this rank, and 
 regiment, till the 19th of April, 1743, when he re- 
 ceived a colonel's commission over a regiment of 
 dragoons, lately commanded by Brigadier Bland ; 
 at the head of which he valiantly fell, in the defence 
 of his sovereign and his country, about two years 
 and a half after he received it. 
 
 § 20. We will now return to that period of his life 
 which passed at Paris, the scene of such remark- 
 able and important events. He continued, if I re- 
 member right, several years under the roof of the 
 brave and generous Karl of Stair ; to whom he en- 
 deavoured to approve himself by every instance of 
 diligent and faithful service. And his lordship 
 gave no inconsiderable proof of the dependence 
 which he had upon him, when, in the beginning of 
 the year 1715, he intrusted him with the imi)ortant 
 despatches, relating to a discovery, which, by a 
 series of admirable policy be had made, of a design 
 which the French king was then forming, for in- 
 vading Great Britain in favour of the Pretender ; 
 in which the French apprehended they were so sure 
 of success, that it seemed a point of friendship in 
 one of the chief counsellors of that court, to dis- 
 suade a dependant of his from accepting some em- 
 ployment under his Britannic majesty, when pro- 
 posed by his envoy there ; because it was said, that 
 in less than six weeks there would be a revolution, 
 in favour of what they called the family of the 
 Stuarts. The captain despatched his journey with 
 the utmost speed ; a variety of circumstances hap- 
 pily concurred to accelerate it ; and they, who re- 
 member how soon the regiments which that emer- 
 gency required were raised and armed, will, I doubt 
 
 not, esteem it a memorable instance, both of the 
 most cordial zeal in the friends of the government, 
 and of the gracious care of divine Providence, over 
 the House of Hanover, and the British liberties, so 
 incomparably connected with its interest. 
 
 § 21. While Captain Gardiner was at London, in 
 one of the journeys he made upon this occasion, he, 
 with that frankness which was natural to him, and 
 which in those days was not always under the most 
 prudent restraint, ventured to predict, from what 
 he knew of the bad state of the French king's health, 
 that he would not live six weeks. This was made 
 known by some spies who were at St. James's, and 
 came to be reported at the court of Versailles ; for 
 he received letters from some friends at Paris, ad- 
 vising him not to return thither, unless he could 
 reconcile himself to a lodging in the Bastile. But 
 he was soon free from that apprehension ; for, if I 
 mistake not, before half that time was accomplished 
 Lewis XIV. died ; * and, it is generally thought, 
 his death was hastened by a very accidental circum- 
 stance, which had some reference to the Captain's 
 prophecy. For the last time he ever dined in pub- 
 lic, which was a very little while after the report of 
 it had been made there, he happened to discover 
 our British envoy among the spectators. The pene- 
 tration of this illustrious person was too great, and 
 his attachment to the interest of his royal master too 
 well known, not to render him very disagreeable to 
 that crafty and tyrannical prince, whom God had 
 so long sufl'ered to be the disgrace of monarchy, and 
 the scourge of Europe. He at first appeared very 
 languid, as indeed he was ; but on casting his eye 
 upon the Earl of Stair, he alTected to appear before 
 him in a much better state of health than he really 
 was ; and therefore, as if he had been awakened on 
 a sudden from some deep reverie, he immediately 
 put Iiimself into an erect posture, called up a la- 
 boured vivacity into his countenance, and ate much 
 more heartily than was by any means advisable, 
 repeating it two or three times to a nobleman (I 
 think tiie Duke of Bourbon) then in waiting, 
 " Melhinks I cat very well for a man who is to die 
 so soon."t But tills inroad upon that regularity of 
 living, which he had for some time observed, agreed 
 so ill with iiim, that lie never recovered this meal, 
 but died in less than a fortnight. TiiLs gave oc(^a- 
 sion for some humorous people to say, that old 
 Lewis, after all, was killed by a Briton. But if this 
 story be true, which I think there can be no room 
 to doubt, as the colonel, from whom I have oi'ten 
 heard it, though absent, could scarce be misinform- 
 ed, it might more properly be said, liiat Ik; fell by 
 his own vanity ; in wliicii view I thought it so re- 
 markable, as not to be unworthy a place in these 
 memoirs. 
 
 ♦ September 1, 1715. 
 + II mc semble, que je ne mange pas mal pour un liommc qui ilevoit 
 mourir si tot. 
 
138 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 § 22. Tlic Captain quii-kly returned, and eon- 
 timu'd with small interruptions at Paris at least 
 till the year 1720, and liow much lonsjer I do not 
 certainly know. The Earl's favour and generosity 
 made him easy in liis aflairs, though he was, as has 
 been ohservcd before, ])art of the time out of com- 
 mission, by breakin;;' tlie regiment to which he 
 belontjed, of which before he was Major. This 
 was, in all probability, the gayest part of his life, 
 and the most criminal, ^^'hatcvcr wise and good 
 examples he might find in the family where he had 
 the honour to reside, it is certain that the French 
 court, during the regency of the Duke of Orleans, 
 •was one of the most dissolute under heaven. What, 
 by a wretched abuse of language, have been called 
 intrigues of love and gallantry, were so entirely to 
 the IMajor's then degenerate taste, that, if not the 
 \^ hole business, at least the whole happiness, of his 
 life consisted in them ; and he had now too much 
 leisure, for one wlio was so prone to abuse it. His 
 fine constitution, than which perhaps there was 
 hardly ever a better, gave him great opportunities 
 of indulging himself in these excesses ; and his 
 good spirits enabled him to pursue his pleasures, of 
 every kind, in so alert and sprightly a manner, that 
 multitudes envied him, and called him, by a dread- 
 ful kind of compliment, " The happy rake." 
 
 § 23. Yet still the checks of conscience, and some 
 remaining principles of so good an education, would 
 break in upon his most licentious hours ; and I 
 particularly remember he told me, that when some of 
 his dissolute companions were once congratulating 
 him on his most distinguished felicity, a dog hap- 
 pening at that time to come into the room, he could 
 not forbear groaning inwardly, and saying to him- 
 self, " Oh that I were that dog!" Such then was 
 his happiness ; and such perhaps is that of hun- 
 dreds more who bear themselves highest in the 
 contempt of religion, and glory in that infamous 
 servitude which they affect to call liberty. But 
 these remonstrances of reason and conscience were 
 in vain ; and, in short, he carried things so far, in 
 this wretched part of his life, that I am well as- 
 sured, some sober English gentlemen, who made 
 no great pretences to religion, how agreeable soever 
 lie might have been to them on other accounts, 
 rather declined than sought his company, as fearing 
 they might have been insnared and corrupted by it. 
 
 § 24. Yet I cannot find that, in these most aban- 
 doned days, he was fond of drinking. Indeed he 
 never had any natural relish for that kind of intem- 
 perance, from which he used to think a manly pride 
 might be sufficient to preserve persons of sense and 
 spirit; as by it they give up every thing that dis- 
 tinguishes them from the meanest of their species, 
 or indeed from animals the most below it. So that, 
 if he ever fell into any excesses of this kind, it was 
 merely out of complaisance to his company, and 
 
 that he might not appear stiff and singular. His 
 frank, obliging, and generous temper, procured 
 him many friends; and these principles, M'hieh 
 rendered him amiable to others, not being under 
 the direction of true wisdom and piety, sometimes 
 made liiin, in the ways of living he pursued, more 
 uneasy to liiiiiself, than he might perhaps have been 
 if he could entirely have overgrown them ; espe- 
 cially as he was never a sceptic in his printsiplcs, 
 but still retained a secret apprehension, that natural 
 and revealed religion, though he did not much care 
 to think of cither, were founded in truth. And 
 with this conviction, his notorious violations of the 
 most essential precepts of both, could not but oc- 
 casion some secret misgivings of heart. His con- 
 tinual neglect of the great Autiior of his being, of 
 whose perfections he could not doubt, and to whom 
 he knew himself to be under daily and perpetual 
 obligations, gave him, in some moments of invo- 
 luntary reflection, inexpressible remorse ; and this, 
 at times, wrought upon him to such a degree, that 
 he resolved he would attempt to pay him some ac- 
 knowledgments. Accordingly for a few mornings 
 he did it ; repeating in retirement some passages 
 out of the Psalms, aJid perhaps other scriptures, 
 which he still retained in his memory ; and owning, 
 in a few strong words, the many mercies and de- 
 liverances he had received, and the ill returns he 
 had made for them. 
 
 § 26. I find, among the other papers transmitted 
 to me, the following verses, which I have heard him 
 repeat, as what had impressed him a good deal in 
 his unconverted state ; and as I suppose they did 
 something towards setting him on this effort towards 
 devotion, and might probably furnish out a part of 
 these orisons, I hope I need make no apology to 
 my reader for inserting them, especially as I do 
 not recollect that I have seen them any where else. 
 
 Attend, my soul ! the early birds inspire 
 
 My grov'ling thought willi pure cflestial fire: 
 
 They from their tenip'rate sleep awake, and pay 
 
 Their thankful anthems for the new-born day. 
 
 See, how the tuneful lark is mounted high, 
 
 And, poet-like, salutes the caRtern sky ! 
 
 He warbles through the fragrant air his lays, 
 
 And seems the beauties of the morn to praise. 
 
 But man, more void of gratitude, awakes, 
 
 And gives no thanks for the sweet rest he takes; 
 
 Looks on the ylorious sun's new-kindled flame, 
 
 Without one thought of him from whom it eame. 
 
 The wretch unliallow'd does the day begin; 
 
 Shakes off his steep, but shakes not otX his sin. 
 
 ^ 26. But these strains were too devout to continue 
 long in a heart as yet quite unsanctilied ; for how 
 readily soever he could repeat such acknowledg- 
 ments of the divine power, presence, and goodness, 
 and own his own follies and faults, he was stopt 
 short by the remonstrances of his conscience, as to 
 the flagrant absurdity of confessing sins he did not 
 desire to forsake, and of pretending to praise God 
 for his mercies, when he did not endeavour to live 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 139 
 
 to his service, and to behave in such a manner as 
 gratitude, if sincere, would plainly dictate. A 
 model of devotion, where such sentiments made no 
 part, his good sense could not digest ; and the use 
 of such language before a heart-searching God, 
 merel}' as a hypocritical form, while the sentiments 
 of his soul were contrary to it, justly appeared to 
 him such daring profaneness, that, irregular as the 
 state of his mind was, the thouglit of it struck him 
 with horror. He therefore determined to make no 
 more attempts of this sort ; and was perhaps one of 
 the first that deliberately laid aside prayer, from 
 some sense of God's omniscience, and some natural 
 principle of honour and conscience. 
 
 § 27. These secret debates with himself, and in- 
 effectual eflbrts, would sometimes return : but they 
 were overborne, again and again, by the force of 
 temptation ; and it is no wonder that, in conse- 
 quence of tiiem, his heart grew yet harder. Nor 
 was it softened, or awakened, by some very memor- 
 able deliverances, which at this time he received. 
 — He was in extreme danger by a fall from his horse, 
 as he was riding post, I think in the streets of 
 Calais, when going down a hill, the horse threw 
 him over his head, and pitched o\er him ; so that, 
 when he rose, the beast lay l)eyond him, and almost 
 dead. Yet, though he received not the least harm, 
 it made no serious impression on his mind. In his 
 return from England in tlie packet-boat, (if I re- 
 member right, but a few weeks after the former 
 accident,) a violent storm, that drove them up to 
 Harwich, tossed them from thence for several hours 
 in a dark night on the coast of Holland, and 
 brought them into such extremity, tliat tlic captain 
 of the vessel urged him to go to prayers immediate- 
 ly, if he ever intended to do it at all ; for he con- 
 eluded, they would in a few minutes be at the bot- 
 tom of the sea. In this circumstance he did pray, 
 and that very fervently too : and it was very re- 
 markable, that while he was crying to God for 
 deliverance, the wind fell, and quickly after they 
 arrived at Calais. But the Major was so little 
 aflected with what had befallen him, that, when 
 .some of his gay friends, on Iicaring liie story, rallied 
 him upon the eiricacy of his prayers, he excused 
 himself from the scandal of being thought much in 
 earnest, by saying, " that it was at midnight, an 
 hour when his good mother and aunt were asleep ; 
 or else he should have left that part of the business 
 to them." A speech which I should not have men- 
 tioned, but as it shows in so lively a view the 
 « retched situation of his mind at that time, though 
 his great deliverance from the power of darkness 
 was then nearly api)roaching. He recounted these 
 things to me w ith the greatest humility, as showing 
 how utterly unworthy he was of that miracle of 
 divine grace, by which he was quickly after brought 
 to so true, and .so prevalent, a sense of religion. 
 
 § 28. And now I am come to that astonishing part 
 of his story, the account of his conversion ; which I 
 cannot enter upon, without assuring the reader that 
 I have sometimes been tempted to suppress many 
 circumstances of it ; not only as they may seem in- 
 credible to some, and enthusiastical to others, but 
 as I am very sensible they are liable to great abuses, 
 which was the reason that he gave me for concealing 
 the most extraordinary from many persons to whom 
 he mentioned some of the rest. And I believe it 
 w as this, together with the desire of avoiding every 
 thing that might look like ostentation on this head, 
 that prevented his leaving a written account of it ; 
 though I have often entreated him to do it ; as I 
 particularly remember I did in the very last letter 
 I ever wrote him ; and pleaded the possibility of 
 his falling amidst those dangers, to which I knew 
 his valour might in sueh circumstances naturally 
 expose him. I was not so happy as to receive any 
 answer to this letter, which reached him but a few 
 days before his death ; nor can I certainly say, 
 whether he had or had not complied with my re- 
 quest ; as it is very possible a paper of that kind, 
 if it were written, might be lost amidst the ravages 
 which the rebels made when they plundered Bankton. 
 
 § 29. The story however was so remarkable, that 
 I had little reason to apprelicnd I should ever for- 
 get it ; and yet, to guard against all contingencies 
 of that kind, I wrote it dow n that very evening, as 
 I had heard it from his own mouth. And I have now 
 before me the memoirs of that conversation, dated 
 August 14, 17.'39, which conclude with these words; 
 (which I added, that if we siiould botii have died 
 that night, the world might not have lost this edify- 
 ing and affecting history, or have wanted any at- 
 testation of it I was capable of giving :) " N. B. I 
 have written down this account w ith all the exact- 
 ness I am capable of, and-could safely take an oath 
 of it as to the truth of every circumstance, to the 
 best of my remembrance, as the Colonel related it 
 to me a few hours ago." I do not know that I had 
 reviewed this paper since I w rote it, till I set my- 
 self thus publicly to record this extraordinary fact ; 
 but I find it punctually to agree with wiiat I have 
 often related from my memory, which I charged 
 carefully with so wonderful and important a fact. 
 It is with all solemnity that I now deliver it down 
 to posterity, as in the sight and presence of God. 
 And I choose deliberately to expose myself to those 
 severe censures, which the haughty but empty scorn 
 of infidelity, or principles nearly approa(;liing it, 
 and cU'ectually doing its pernicious work, may very 
 prol)al)ly dictate upon the occasion ; ratlier than to 
 smotiicr a relation, which may, in the judgment of 
 my consc^ience, be like to conduce so much to the 
 glory of God, the honour of the gospel, and the good 
 of mankind. One thing more I will only premise, 
 that I hope none who have heard the Colonel him- 
 
110 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 self speak sonietliiii^ of tliis wonderful scene, m ill 
 be sui|)iise(l if they lind some new eiicunistanees 
 here ; because he assured nie at the lime he first 
 gave nie the whole narration, which was in the very 
 room in which I now write, tliat he had never im- 
 parted it so fully to any man livini^ before. Yet at 
 the same time he gave me full lii)erty to communicate 
 it to whomsoever I should in my conscience judge 
 it might be useful to do it, w hether before or after his 
 death. Accordingly I did, while he was alive, re- 
 count almost every circumstance I am now going to 
 write, to several pions friends ; referring them at 
 the same time to the Colonel himself, whenever they 
 might have an opportunity of seeing or writing to 
 him, for a further conlirmation of what I told them, 
 if they judged it requisite. They glorified God in 
 him ; and I humbly hope many of my readers will 
 also do it. They will soon perceive the reason of so 
 much caution in my introduction to this story, for 
 which therefore I shall make no further apology.* 
 
 § This memorable event happened towards the 
 middle of July, 1719, but I cannot be exact as to the 
 day. The Major had spent the evening, and, if I 
 mistake not, it was the sabbath, in some gay com- 
 pany, and had an unhappy assignation with a 
 married woman, of what rank or quality I did not 
 particularly in(juire, whom he was to attend ex- 
 actly at twelve. The company broke up about 
 eleven ; and not judging it convenient to anticipate 
 the time appointed, he went into his chamber to 
 kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing 
 book, or some other way. But it very accidentally 
 happened that he took up a religious book, which 
 his good mother or aunt had, without his know- 
 ledge, slipped into his portmanteau. It was called, 
 if I remember the title exactly, The Christian 
 Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm, and was writ- 
 ten by Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing by the title 
 of it that he should lind some phrases of his own 
 profession spiritualized, in a manner which he 
 thought might afford him some diversion, he re- 
 solved to dip into it ; but he took no serious notice 
 of any thing he read in it ; and yet, while this book 
 was in bis hand, an impression was made upon his 
 mind, perhaps God only knows how, which drew 
 after it a train of the most important and happy 
 consequences. 
 
 § 31. There is indeed a possibility, that while he 
 was sitting in this attitude, and reading in this 
 careless and profane manner, he might suddenly 
 
 * It is no small satisf;irtion lo me, since I wrote this, to have rereived 
 a letter from Uie Rev. i\Ir. S|)e.irs, minister of tlie tiospel at Brnnt. 
 island, dated Jan. 14, 174(i.7, in wliicli lie relates to me this whole story 
 as iic had it from the Colonel's own month, ahont four years after lie 
 gave me the narration. There is not a sinjile eircnmstiince in which 
 cither of onr narrations di.sa:;ree ; and every one of the particulars in 
 mine which .seem most a.stonishinp:, are attested hy this, and sometimes 
 in stronjjer words, one only excepted, on which I shall add a short re- 
 mark when I come to it. As this letter was written near Lady Frances 
 Hardiner, at her desire, and attended with a postscript from her own 
 hand, this is, in efTeet, a sufTicicnt attestation how as;recahle it was to 
 tliose accounts which she mu«t often have heard the Colonel give of this 
 icatter. 
 
 fall asleep, and only dream of what he apprehended 
 he saw. But nothing can ))c more certain than that, 
 when he gave mc this relation, he judged himself to 
 have been as broad awake, during the whole lime, 
 as he ever was in any part of his life ; and he men- 
 tioned it to me several limes afterwards, as what 
 undoubtedly i)asscd, not only in his imagination, 
 but before his cyes.f 
 
 § 32. He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light 
 fall on the book while he was reading, which he at 
 first imagined might hai)pen by some accident in 
 the candle. But lifting up his eyes, he apprehended, 
 to his extreme amazement, that there was before 
 him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible re- 
 presentation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the 
 cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory ; and 
 was impressed as if a voice, or something equivalent 
 to a voice, had come to him to this effect, for he 
 was not confident as to the very words ; " O sinner, 
 did I suffer this for thee, and are these the returns ?" 
 But whether this were an audible voice, or only a 
 strong impression on his mind equally striking, he 
 did not seem very confident ; though, to the best of 
 my remembrance, he rather judged it to be the 
 former. Struck with so amazing a phenomenon as 
 this, there remained hardly any life in him, so that 
 he sunk down in the arm-chair in wliich he sat, and 
 continued, he knew not exactly how long, insen- 
 sible ; wliich was one circumstance that made me 
 several times lake the liberty to suggest that he 
 might possibly be all this while asleep: but how- 
 ever that were, he quickly after opened his eyes, 
 and saw nothing more than usual. 
 
 § 33. It may easily be supposed, he was in no 
 condition to make any observation upon the time 
 in which he had remained in an insensible state. 
 Nor did he, throughout all the remainder of the 
 night, once recollect that criminal and detestable 
 assignation, which had before engrossed all his 
 thoughts. He rose in a tumult of passions not to 
 be conceived ; and walked to and fro in his cham- 
 ber, till he was ready to drop down, in unutterable 
 astonishment and agony of heart ; appearing to 
 himself the vilest monster in the creation of God, 
 who had all his life time been crucifying Christ 
 afresh by his sins, and now saw, as he assuredly 
 believed, by a miraculous vision, the horror of what 
 he had done. With this was connected such a view, 
 both of the majesty and goodness of God, as caused 
 him to loathe and abhor himself, and to repent as in 
 
 + Mr. Spears, in the letter mentioned above, where he introdnces 
 the Colonel telling his own story, has these words: "All of a sudden 
 there was presented in a very lively manner to my view, or to niy 
 mind, a representation of my glorious Redeemer," &c.— And this gen- 
 tleman adds in a parenthesis, " It was .so lively and striking, that he 
 could not tell whether it was to his hodily eyes, or to those of his 
 mind." This makes me think that what I had said to him on the phe- 
 nomena of visions, apparitioii.s, &e. [as heing, when most real, .super- 
 natural impressions on the iniajiinalion, rather than attended with any 
 external ohject,] had some influence upon him. Yet still it is evident, 
 he looked upon this as a vision, w hether it were before the eyes or in the 
 mind, and not as a dream. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 141 
 
 dust and ashes. He immediately gave judgment 
 against himself, that he was most justly worthy of 
 eternal damnation : he was astonished that he had 
 not been immediately struck dead in the midst of 
 bis wickedness : and, which I think deserves par- 
 ticular remark, though ho assuredly believed that 
 he should ere long be in hell, and settled it as a 
 point with himself for several months, that the 
 wisdom and justice of God did almost necessarily 
 require, that such an enormous sinner should be 
 made an example of everlasting vengeance, and a 
 spectacle as such both to angels and men, so that 
 he hardly durst presume to pray for pardon ; yet 
 what he then suffered, was not so much from the 
 fear of hell, though he concluded it would soon be 
 his portion, as from a sense of that horrible ingra- 
 titude he had shown to the God of his life, and to 
 that blessed Redeemer, who had been in so affecting 
 a manner set forth as crucified before him. 
 
 § 34. To this he refers in a letter, dated from 
 Douglas, April 1, 1725, communicated to me by his 
 lady,* but I know not to whom it was addressed. 
 His words are these : " One thing relating to my 
 conversion, and a remarkable instance of the good- 
 ness of God to me, the' chief of sinners, I do not 
 remember that I ever told to any other person. It 
 was this ; that after the astonishing siijht I had of 
 my blessed Lord, the terrible condition in which I 
 was, proceeded not so much from the terrors of the 
 law, as from a sense of having been so ungrateful a 
 monster to him whom / thought I saw pierced for 
 my transgressions." I the rather insert these words, 
 as they evidently attest the circumstance which may 
 seem most amazing in this affair, and contain so 
 express a declaration of his own apprehension 
 concerning it. 
 
 § 35. In this view it may naturally be supposed, 
 that he passed the remainder of the night waking ; 
 and he could get but little rest in several that fol- 
 lowed. His mind was continually taken up in re- 
 flecting on the divine purity and goodness ; the 
 grace which had been proposed to him in the gos- 
 pel, and which he had rejected ; the singular ad- 
 vantages he had enjoyed and abused ; and the many 
 favours of Providence which he had received, par- 
 ticularly in rescuing him from so many imminent 
 dangers of death, which he now saw must have been 
 attended with such dreadful and hopeless de.struc- 
 
 * N. B. Wlicre I make any extracts as from Colonel fkirdiner's let. 
 ters, they arc either from originals, which I have in my own hands: or 
 from copies, which were transmitted to me from person.* of undonhti d 
 credit, ch.pfly by the Ri-ht llononrahle the Lady Frances Gardiner 
 Mirouyh the hand of the Kev. Mr. Wehster, one of the ministers of I 
 f.dinhnrgh. This I rather mention, beeanse some letters have been 
 broii;,'hl to me as Colonel Gardiner's, concerning which \ have not only 
 been very dnhmiis, but morally certain, that they could not have been 
 written by liim. I have also heard of many, who have been fond of 
 aMunn? the world, that they were well acquainted with him, and were 
 near hirn when he fell ; whose reportshave been most inconsl^lellt willi 
 each other, .is well as contrary to that testimony relatin); to thecircum. 
 •tances of his death, which, on the whole, appeared to be beyond con- 
 troversy the most natural and anthenlic : from whence tlierelore I shall 
 take my account of that affecting scene. 
 
 tion. The privileges of his education, which he 
 had so much despised, now lay with an almost in- 
 supportable weight on his mind ; and the folly of 
 that career of sinful pleasure, which he had so many 
 years been running with desperate eagerness and 
 unworthy delight, now filled him with indignation 
 against himself, and against the great deceiver, by 
 whom, to use his own phrase, he had been . " so 
 wretchedly and scandalously befooled." This he 
 used often to express in the strongest terms ; which 
 I shall not repeat so particularly as I can recollect 
 some of them. But, on the whole, it is certain, 
 that by what passed before he left his chamber the 
 next day, the whole frame and disposition of his 
 soul was new-modelled and changed ; so that he 
 became, and continued to the last day of his exem- 
 plary and truly Christian life, the very reverse of 
 what he had been before. A variety of particulars, 
 which I am afterwards to mention, will illustrate 
 this in the most convincing manner. But I cannot 
 proceed to them, without pausing awhile to adore so 
 illustrious an instance of the power and freedom of 
 divine grace, and enfreating my reader seriouslj' to 
 reflect upon it, that his own heart may be suitably 
 affected : for surely, if the truth of the fact be ad- 
 mitted, in the lowest views in which it can be 
 placed, that is, supposing the first impression to 
 have passed in a dream, it must be allowed to have 
 been little, if any thing, le.ss than miraculous. It 
 cannot in the course of nature be imagined, how 
 such a dream should arise in a mind full of the 
 most impure ideas and affections, and, as he him- 
 self often pleaded, more alienated from the thoughts 
 of a crucified Saviour, than from any other object 
 that can be conceived ; nor can we surely suppose 
 it should, without a mighty energy of the divine 
 power, be effectual to produce not only some tran- 
 sient How of passion, but so entire and so permanent 
 a change in character and conduct. 
 
 § .36. On the whole, therefore, I must beg leave 
 to express my own sentiments of the matter, by re- 
 peating on this occasion what I wrote several years 
 ago, in my eighth Sermon on Regeneration, in a 
 passage dictated chiclly by the circumstantial know- 
 ledge which I had of this amazing story, and me- 
 thinks sftfficicntly vindicated by it, if it stood en- 
 tirely alone; which yet, I must take the liberty to 
 say, it docs not ; for I hope the world will be par- 
 ticularly informed, that there is at least a second, 
 that very nearly approaches it, whenever the esta- 
 blished church of England shall lose one of its 
 brightest living ornaments, and one of the most 
 useful members which that, or perhaps any other 
 Christian communion, can boast : in the mean time, 
 may his exemplary life be long continued, and his 
 zealous ministry abundantly prospered ! I beg niy 
 reader's pardon for this digression. The passage I 
 referred to above is remarkably, though not equally, 
 
142 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 applicable to both the cases, as it stands in pa<;c 
 263. of llie liist edition, and page KiO, of the se- 
 cond ; under that head, where 1 am showing, tliat 
 God sometimes accomplishes the great work of 
 which wo speak, by secret and inmicdiate impres- 
 sions on the mind. After precedin;; illustrations, 
 there are the followin-ic words, on which the Colonel's 
 conversion will throw the justest lig-ht : "Yea, I 
 have known those of distin<<uished polite 
 manners, and <;reat experience in human alVairs, 
 who, after liaving outgrown all the impressions of 
 a religions education, after having been liardencd, 
 rather than subdued, by the most singular mercies, 
 even various, repeated, and astonishing deliver- 
 ances, which have appeared to themselves no less 
 than miraculous; after having lived for years with- 
 out God in the world, notoriously corrupt tliem- 
 sclves, and labouring to the utmost to corrupt 
 otliers ; have been stopt on a sudden in the full 
 career of their sin, and have felt such rays of the 
 divine presence, and of redeeming love, darting in 
 upon their minds, almost like lightning from heaven, 
 as have at once roused, overpowered, and trans- 
 fonned them ; so that they have come out of their 
 secret chambers with an irreconcilable ennjity to 
 those vices, to which, when they entered them, they 
 were the tamest and most abandoned slaves ; and 
 have appeared from that very hour tlie votaries, the 
 patrons, the champions of religion ; and after a 
 course of the most resolute attachment to it, in spite 
 of all the reasonings or the railleries, the importu- 
 nities or the reproaches, of its enemies, they have 
 continued to this day some of its brightest orna- 
 ments : a cliange, which I behold witli equal won- 
 der and delight, and which, if a nation should join 
 in deriding it, I would adore as the finger of God." 
 
 § 37. The mind of Major Gardiner continued from 
 this remarkable time till towards the end of Octo- 
 ber, that is, rather more than three months, but 
 especially the two first of them, in as extraordinary 
 a situation as one can well imagine. He knew 
 nothing of the joys arising from a sense of pardon ; 
 but, on the contrary, for the greater part of that 
 time, and with very short intervals of hope toward 
 the end of it, took it for granted, that he must, in 
 all probability, quickly perish. Nevertheless, he 
 had sucli a sense of the evil of sin, of the goodness 
 of the divine Being, and of the admirable tendency 
 of the Christian revelation, that he resolved to 
 spend the remainder of his life, while God con- 
 tinued him out of hell, in as rational and as useful 
 a manner as he could ; and to continue casting 
 himself at the feet of divine Mercy, every day, and 
 often in a day, if peradventure there might be hope 
 of pardon, of which all that he could say was, that 
 he did not absolutely despair. He had at that time 
 such a sense of the degeneracy of his own heart, 
 that he hardly durst form any determinate resolu- 
 
 tion against sin, or pretend to engage himself by 
 any vow in the presence of God ; but he was con- 
 tinually crying to him, that he would deliver him 
 from the bondage of corruption. He perceived in 
 himself a most surprising alteration with regard to 
 the dispositions of his heart ; so that, though he 
 felt little of the delight of religious duties, he ex- 
 tremely desired opportunities of being engaged in 
 them ; and those licentious pleasures, which had 
 before been his licavcn, were now absolutely his 
 aversion. And indeed, when I consider how ha- 
 bitual all those criminal indulgences were grown 
 to him, and that he was now in the prime of life, 
 and all this while in high health too, I cannot but 
 be astonished to reflect upon it, that he should be 
 so wonderfully sanctified in body, as well as in soul 
 and spirit, as that, for all the future years of his 
 life, he, from that hour, should find so constant a 
 disinclination to, and abhorrence of, those criminal 
 sensualities, to which he fancied he was before so 
 invincibly impelled by his very constitution, that 
 he was used strangely to think, and to say, that 
 omnipotence itself could not reform him, without 
 destroying that body, and giving him another.* 
 
 § 38. Nor was he only delivered from that bond- 
 age of corruption, whicli had been habitual to him 
 for so many years, but felt in his breast so contrary 
 a disposition, that he was grieved to see human 
 nature, in those to whom he was most entirely a 
 stranger, prostituted to sucli low and contemptible 
 pursuits. He therefore exerted his natural courage 
 in a very new kind of combat, and became an open 
 advocate for religion, in all its principles, so far as 
 he was acquainted with them, and all its precepts, 
 relating to sobriety, righteousness, and godliness. 
 Yet he was very desirous and cautious that he 
 might not run into an extreme, and made it one of 
 his first petitions to God, the very day after these 
 amazing impressions had been wrought in his mind, 
 that he might not be suffered to behave with such 
 an afl'eeted strictness and preciseness, as would lead 
 others about him into mistaken notions of religion, 
 
 * Mr. Spears expresses this wonderful circumstance in these remark- 
 al)le words; " I was (said the Colonel to me) so eftectually cured of all 
 inclination to that sin I was so stronjily addicted to, that 1 thou;;ht 
 nothing hut sliootinf^ me throuiih the head could have cured mc of it ; 
 anil all desire and inclination to it was removed, as entirely as if 1 had 
 heen a sucking child ; nor did the temptation return to this day." Mr. 
 Wehstcr's words on the .same snhject are these: " One thing I have 
 heard the Colonel frefjuently say, that he was much addicted to impurity 
 before his ac(]Uaintance with religion ; but that, so soon as he was en- 
 lightened from above, he felt the power of the Holy Ghost chaniiing 
 his nature so wonderfully, that his sanctification in this respect .seemed 
 more remarkable than in any other." On which that worthy person 
 makes this very reasonable reflection : ".So thorough a change of such 
 a pcdluted nature, evidenced by the most unblemished walk and con- 
 versation for a long course of years, demonstrates indeed the power of 
 the Highest, and leaves no room to doubt of its reality." Mr. Spears 
 says, this happened in three days' time: but from what I can recollect, 
 allthat the Colonel could mean by that expression, if he used it, as i 
 concluded he did, was, that he began to make the observation iu the 
 Sjiace of three days; whereas, during that time, his thoughts were so 
 taken up witli the wonderful views presented to his mind, that he did 
 not immediately attend to it. If he had within the first three daysany 
 temptation to seek some ease from the anguish of his mind, in return- 
 ing to former .nnsualities, it is a circumstance he did not mention to 
 mc ; and by what I can recollect of the strain of his discourse, he inti- 
 mated, if he did not e\pres.«, the contrary. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 143 
 
 and expose it to reproach or suspicion, as if it were 
 an unlovely or uncomfortable thin^. For this 
 reason he endeavoured to appear as cheerful in 
 conversation as he conscientiously could ; though, 
 in spite of all his precautions, some traces of that 
 deep inward sense v/hich he had of his guilt and 
 misery would at times appear. He made no se- 
 cret of it, however, that his views were entirely 
 changed, though he concealed the particular cir- 
 cumstances attending that change. He told his 
 most intimate companions freely, that he had re- 
 flected on the course of life in which he had so long 
 joined them, and found it to be folly and madness, 
 unworthy a rational creature, and much more 
 unworthy persons calling themselves Christians. 
 And he set up his standard, upon all occasions, 
 against principles of infidelity, and practices of vice, 
 as determinately, and ss boldly, as ever he dis- 
 played or planted his colours, when he bore them 
 with so much honour in the field. 
 
 ^ 39. I cannot forbearmentioning one struggle of 
 this kind, which he described to me, with a large 
 detail of circumstances, the first day of our ac- 
 quaintance. There was at that time in Paris a 
 certain lady, whose name, then well known in the 
 grand and the gay world, I must beg leave to con- 
 ceal, who had imbibed the principles of deism, and 
 valued herself much upon being an avowed advo- 
 cate for them. The Major, with his usual frank- 
 ness, though I doubt not with that politeness of man- 
 ners which was so habitual to him, and which he 
 retained throughout his whole life, answered her 
 like a man who perfectly saw through the fallacy 
 of her arguments, and was grieved to the heart for 
 her delusion. On this she briskly challenged him 
 to debate the matter at large, and to fix upon a day 
 for that purpose, when he should dine with her, at- 
 tended with any clergyman he might choose, 
 whether of the protestant or catholic communion. 
 A sense of duty would not allow him to decline 
 \ ' this challenge ; and yet he had no sooner accepted 
 it, but he was thrown into great perplexity and 
 distress, lest being, as I remember he expressed it 
 when he told nic the story, only a Christian of six 
 weeks old, he should prejudice so good a cause, by 
 his unskilful manner of defending it. However, 
 he sought his refuge in earnest and repeated pray- 
 ers to God, that he who can ordain strength, and 
 perfect praise, out of the mouth of babes and suck- 
 lings, would graciously enable him, on this occa- 
 sion, to vindicate his truths in a manner which 
 might carry conviction along with it. He then en- 
 deavoured to marshal the arguments in his own 
 mind, as well as he could; and apprehending that 
 he could not speak with so much freedom before a 
 number of persons, especially before such, whose 
 province he might in that case .seem to invade, if he 
 had not devolved the principal part of the discourse 
 
 upon them, he easily admitted the apology of a cler- 
 gyman or two, to whom he mentioned the affair, 
 and waited on the lady alone upon the day ap- 
 pointed. But his heart was so set upon the busi- 
 ness, that he came earlier than he was expected, 
 and time enough to have two hours' discourse before 
 dinner ; nor did he at all decline having two young 
 persons, nearly related to the lady, present during 
 the conference. 
 
 § 40. The Major opened it, with a view of such 
 arguments for the Christian religion as he had di- 
 gested in his own mind, to prove that the apostles 
 were not mistaken themselves, and that they could 
 not have intended to impose upon us, in the ac- 
 counts they give of the grand facts they attest; with 
 the truth of which facts, that of the Christian re- 
 ligion is most apparently connected. And it was a 
 gi-eat encouragement to him to find that, unaccus- 
 tomed as he was to discourses of this nature, he had 
 an unusual command, both of thought and expres- 
 sion ; so that he recollected and uttered every thing 
 as he could have wished. The lady heard with at- 
 tention ; and though he paused between every 
 branch of the argument, she did not interrupt the 
 course of it, till he told her he had finished his de- 
 sign, and waited for her reply. She then produced 
 some of her objections, which he took up and can- 
 vassed in such a manner, that at length she burst 
 out into tears, allowed the force of his arguments 
 and replies, and appeared, for some time after, so 
 deeply impressed with the conversation, that it was 
 observed by several of her friends ; and there is 
 reason to believe that the impression continued, at 
 least so far as to prevent her from ever appearing 
 under the character of an unbeliever or a sceptic. 
 
 4 41. This is only one specimen, among many, of 
 the battles he was almost daily called out to light in 
 the cause of religion and virtue : with relation to 
 which I find him expressing himself thus, in a let- 
 ter to Mrs. Gardiner, his good mother, dated from 
 Paris, the 25th of January following, that is, 
 1719-20, in answer to one, in which she had warned 
 him to expect such trials. " I have," says he, 
 " already met with them, and am obliged to light, 
 and to dispute every inch of ground : liut all thanks 
 and praise to the great Captain of my salvation, he 
 fights for mc ; and then it is no wonder that I come 
 off more than con(|ueror;" by which last expression 
 I suppose he meant to insinuate, that he was 
 strengthened and established, rather than overborne, 
 by this opposition. Yet it was not immediately 
 that he gained such fortitude. He has often told mc, 
 how much he felt in those days of the emphasis of 
 those well-chosen words of the apostle, in which he 
 ranks llie trial of cruel mockings, with scourgings, 
 and bonds, and imprisonments. The continual 
 railleries with which he was received, in almost all 
 companies where he had been most familiar. before. 
 
144 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 did often distress Iiun beyond nieasuio ; so that he 
 has several times deelared, lie would niiieh rather 
 have niarehed up to a battery of the enemy's cannon, 
 than have been obliajed, so eontinually as he was, to 
 face such artillery as this. Hut, like a brave soldier 
 in the first action wherein he is enjjag'ed, he con- 
 tinued resolute, thoufjli shudderinj^ at liie terror of 
 the assault ; and <|uiekly overcame those impres- 
 sions, which it is not perhaj)s in nature wholly to 
 avoid : and therefore I find him in tiie letter refer- 
 red to above, which was written about half a year 
 after his conversion, " quite ashamed to think of 
 the uneasiucss which these things once gave him." 
 In a word, he went on, as every resolute Christian 
 by divine grace may do, till he turned ridicule and 
 opposition into respect and veneration. 
 
 § 42. But this sensible triunipli over these diffi- 
 culties was not till his Christian experience had 
 been abundantly advanced, by the blessing of God 
 on the sermons he heard, particuhnly in the Swiss 
 chapel, and on the many hours which he spent in 
 devout retirement, pouring out his v^iiole soul 
 before God in prayer. He began, within about two 
 months after his first memorable change, to perceive 
 some secret dawnings of more cheerful hope, that 
 vile as he saw himself to be, and I believe no words 
 can express how vile that was, he might neverthe- 
 less obtain mercy througli a Redeemer. And at 
 length, if I remember right, about the end of Oc- 
 tober, 1719, he found all the burthen of his mind 
 taken off at once by the powerful impression of 
 that memorable scripture upon his mind ; Rom. iii. 
 25, 26. Whom God hath set forth for a propitiation, 
 through faith in his blood, to declare his righteous- 
 ness in the remission of sins — that he might be just, 
 and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus. 
 He had used to imagine, that the justice of God 
 required the damnation of so enormous a sinner as 
 he saw himself to be : but now he was made deeply 
 sensible, that the divine justice might be, not only 
 vindicated, but glorified, in saving him by the blood 
 of Jesus, even that blood which eleanseth us from 
 all sin. Then did he see and feel the riches of 
 redeeming love and grace in such a manner as not 
 only engaged him, with the utmost i)Ieasure and 
 confidence, to venture his soul upon it ; but even 
 swallowed up, as it were, his whole heart in the 
 returns of love, which from that blessed time be- 
 came the genuine and delightful principle of his 
 obedience, and animated him with an enlarged 
 heart to run the way of God's commandments. 
 Thus God was pleased, as he himself used to'spcak, 
 in an hour to turn his captivity. All the terrors of 
 his former state were changed into unutterable joy, 
 which kept him almost continually w aking for three 
 nights together, and yet refreshed him as the noblest 
 of cordials. His expressions, though naturally 
 very .strong, always seemed to be swallowed up, 
 
 when he would describe the scries of thought 
 through which he now passed, under the rapturous 
 exi)erienee of that joy unspeakable and full of 
 glory, which then seemed to overflow his very soul ; 
 as indeed there was nothing he seemed to speak of 
 with greater relish. And though the first ecstasies 
 of it afterwards subsided into a more calm and com- 
 posed delight ; yet were the impressions so deep 
 and so permanent, that he assured me on the word 
 of a Christian and a friend, wonderful as it might 
 seem, that for about seven years after this he en- 
 joyed almost a heaven upon earth. His soul was 
 so continually filled with a sense of the love of God 
 in Christ, that it knew little interruption, but when 
 necessary converse, and the duties of his station, 
 called off his thoughts for a little time ; and when 
 they did so, as soon as he was alone, the torrent 
 returned into its natural channel again ; so that, 
 from the minute of his awakening in the morning, 
 his heart was rising to God, and triumphing in 
 him ; and these thoughts attended him through all 
 the scenes of life, till he lay down on his bed again, 
 and a short parenthesis of sleep (for it was but a 
 very short one that he allowed himself) invigorated 
 his animal powers, for renewing them with greater 
 intenseness and sensibility. 
 
 § 43. I shall have an opportunity of illustrating 
 this in the most convincing manner below, by ex- 
 tracts from several letters which he wrote to inti- 
 mate friends during this happy period of time ; 
 letters wliich breathe a spirit of such sublime and 
 fervent piety, as I have seldom met with any where 
 else. In these circumstances, it is no wonder that 
 he was greatly delighted with Dr. Watts's imitation 
 of the r26th Psalm ; since it may be questioned 
 whether there ever was a person to whom the fol- 
 lowing stanzas of it were more suitable. 
 
 I. 
 
 When God revealed his gracious name, 
 And changed my mournful state, 
 
 My rapture seemed a pleasing dream, 
 Thy grace appear'd so great. 
 
 II. 
 
 The world beheld the glorious change, 
 
 And did thine hand confess ; 
 My tongue broke out in unknown strains. 
 
 And sung surprising grace. 
 
 III. 
 
 " Great is the work," my neighbours cried, 
 
 And owned the power divine : 
 " Great is the work," my heart replied, 
 
 " And be the glory thine." 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Lord can change the darkest skies, 
 
 Can give us day for night. 
 Make floods of sacred sorrow rise 
 
 To rivers of delight. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 145 
 
 V. 
 
 Let those that sow in sadness wait 
 
 Till the fair harvest come : 
 They shall confess their sheaves are great. 
 
 And shout the blessings home. 
 
 § 44. I have been so happy as to get the sight of 
 five original letters, which he wrote to his mother 
 about this time; which do, in a very lively manner, 
 illustrate the surprising change made in the whole 
 current of his thoughts and temper of his mind. 
 Many of them were written in the most hasty man- 
 ner, just as the courier who brought them was, 
 perhaps unexpectedly, setting out ; and they relate 
 chiefly to affairs in which the public is not at all 
 concerned ; yet there is not one of them in which 
 he has not inserted some warm and genuine senti- 
 ment of religion. And indeed it is very remarkable 
 that, though he was pleased to honour me with a 
 great many letters, and I have seen several more 
 which he wrote to others, some of them on journeys, 
 where he could have but a few minutes at com- 
 mand, yet I cannot recollect that I ever saw any 
 one in which there was not some trace of piety. 
 And the Reverend Mr. Webster, who was employed 
 to review great numbers of them, that he might 
 select such extracts as he should think prop'er to 
 communicate to me, has made the same observ- 
 ation.* 
 
 § 45. The Major, with great justice, tells the 
 good lady, his mother, " that, when she saw him 
 agaii:, she would find the person indeed the same, 
 but every thing else entirely changed." And she 
 might easily have perceived it of herself, by the 
 whole tenor of those letters, which every where 
 breathe the unaffected spirit of a true Christian. 
 They are taken up, sometimes with giving advice 
 and directions concerning .some pious and chari- 
 table contributions, one of which, I remember, 
 amounted to ten guineas, though, as he was then 
 out of commission, and had not formerly been very 
 frugal, it cannot be supposed he had much to spare ; 
 sometimes in speaking of the pleasure with which 
 he attended sermons, and expected sacramental 
 opportunities ; and at otiier times in exhorting her, 
 established as she was in religion, to labour after a 
 yet more exemplary character and conduct, or in 
 reconnncnding her to tiie divine presence and bless- 
 ing, as well a.s himself to her prayers. What satis- 
 faction such letters as these mu.st give to a lady of 
 her distinguished piety, who had so long w ept over 
 this dear and amiable son, as quite lost to God, 
 
 * His words arc these: " I liavc read over a \ast number of the 
 Colonel's letters, and have not found any one of tliem, however slic.rt, 
 and writ in the most passin); manner, even when poKtin;.', hut wliat is 
 expressive of the most passionate hrrathin;is towards his (Jod and 
 Saviour. If the lelter consists hut of two sentences, reli',;ion is not 
 forgot; which, donhtless, deserves to he carefully remarked, .ls llic 
 most uncontested evidence of a pious mind, even under the warmest 
 impression of divine Ihin^'s." 
 
 and on the verge of final destruction, it is not for 
 me to describe, or indeed to conceive. But hastily 
 as these letters were written, only for private view, 
 I will give a few specimens froin them in his own 
 words ; which will serve to illustrate, as well as 
 confirm, what I have hinted above. 
 
 § 46. " I must take the liberty," says he, in a let- 
 ter dated on the first day of the new year, or accord- 
 ing to the old style, Dec. 21, 1719, " to entreat you, 
 that you would receive no company on the Lord's 
 day. I know you have a great many good acquaint- 
 ance, with whose discourses one might be very well 
 edified : but as you cannot keep out, and let in, 
 whom you please, the best way, in my humble 
 opinion, w ill be to see none." In another, of Jan. 
 2.3, " I am liappier than any one can imagine, ex- 
 cept I could put him exactly in the same situation 
 with myself; which is what the world cannot give, 
 and no man ever attained it, unless it were from 
 above." In another, dated March 30, which was 
 just before sacrament day, " To-morrow, if it please 
 God, I shall be happy ; my soul being to be fed with 
 the bread of life, which came down from heaven. I 
 shall be mindful of you all there." In another, of 
 Jan. 29, he thus expresses that indifference for 
 worldly possessions, which he so remarkably carried 
 through all the remainder of his life : " I know the 
 rich are only stewards for the poor, and must give 
 an account of every penny; therefore the less I have, 
 the more easy will it be to render a faithful account 
 of it." And to add no more from these letters at 
 present, in the conclusion of one of them he has 
 these comprehensive and solemn words : " Now 
 that He, w lny is the ease of the afllicted, the support 
 of the weak, the wealth of the poor, the teacher of 
 the ignorant, the anchor of the fearful, and the in- 
 finite reward of all faithful souls, may pour out 
 upon you all his richest blessings, shall always be 
 the prayer of him who is entirely yours," &c. 
 
 § 47. To this account of his correspondence with 
 his excellent mother, I should be glad to add a large 
 view of another, to w Inch she introduced him, with 
 that reverend and valuable person, under whose 
 pastoral care she was placed, 1 mean, the justly 
 celebrated Dr. Edmund Calamy, to whom she could 
 not but early connuunicate the joyful news of her 
 son's conversion. I am not so happy as to be pos- 
 sessed of the letters w hich passed between them, 
 which I have reason to believe would make a 
 curious and valuable collection ; but I have had the 
 pleasure of receiving, from my worthy and amiable 
 friend, the Reverend Mr. Edmund Calamy, one of 
 the letters which the Doctor, his father, wrote to the 
 Major on this wonderful occasion. I perceive by 
 the contents of it that it was the first ; and indeed it 
 is dated as early as the tliird of August, 1719, which 
 must be but a few days after his own account, dated 
 August 4, N. S. could reach Englaiul. There is so 
 
KEMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 much true relijfion and good sense in this paper, 
 and the counsel it sug;oests may be so seasonable to 
 other persons in circumstances which bear any re- 
 semblance to his, that I make no apolofcy to my 
 reader lor inscrtino; a !arg;e extract from it. 
 
 § -tvS. •' Dear Sir. — I conceive it Avill not mudi 
 surprise you to understand that your f;-ood mother 
 comnuinicaled to nic your letter to her, dated Aug. 
 4, N. S. wliieh brouglit her the news you conceive 
 would be so acceptable to her. I, who have often 
 been a witness to her concern for you on a spiritual 
 account, can attest with what joy this news was re- 
 ceived by her, and imparted to me as a special 
 friend, who she knew would bear a part with her on 
 such an occasion. And indeed, if (as our Saviour 
 intimates, Luke xv. 7, 10.) there is in such cases 
 joy in heaven, and anions;; the angels of God, it may 
 well be supposed that of a pious motlier, who has 
 spent so many prayers and tears upon you, and has, 
 as it were, travailed in birth with you again, till 
 Christ was formed in you, could not be small. You 
 may believe mc if I add, that I also, as a eonmion 
 friend of hers and yours, and which is much more, 
 of the Prince of Light, whom you now declare you 
 lieartily fall in with, in opposition to that of the 
 dark kingdom, could not but be tenderly adected 
 with an account of it under your own hand. My 
 joy on this account was the greater, considering tlie 
 importance of your capacity, interests, and pros- 
 pects ; which in such an age as this may promise 
 most happy consequences, on your heartily appear- 
 ing on God's side, and embarking in the interest of 
 our dear Redeemer. If I have hitherto at all re- 
 membered you at the throne of grace, at your good 
 mother's desire, which you are pleased to take 
 notice of with so much respect, I can assure you I 
 shall henceforward be led to do it with more concern 
 and particularity, both by duty and inclination. 
 And if I were capable of giving you any little as- 
 sistance in the noble design you are engaging in, 
 by corresponding with you by letter, while you are 
 at such a distance, I should do it most cheerfully. 
 And perhaps such a motion may not be altogether 
 unacceptable ; for I am inclinable to believe, that 
 when some, whom you are obliged to converse with 
 observe your behaviour so different from what it 
 fomicrly was, and banter you upon it as mad and 
 fanciful, it may be some little relief to correspond 
 with one who will take a pleasure in heartening 
 and encouraging you. And when a great many 
 things frequently ofier, in which conscience may 
 be concerned, where duty may not always be 
 plain, nor suitable persons to advise with at 
 hand, it may be some satisfaction to you to cor- 
 respond with one with whom you may use a friendly 
 freedom in all such matters, and on whose fidelity 
 you may depend. You may therefore command 
 me in any of these respects, and I shall take a plea- 
 
 sure in serving you. Ojie piece of advice I shall 
 venture to give you, though your own good sense 
 will make my enlarging upon it less needful ; I 
 mean, that you would, from your first setting out, 
 carefully distinguish between the essentials of real 
 religion, and those things which are conunonly 
 reckoned by its professors to belong to it. The 
 want of this distinction has had very unhappy con- 
 sequences from one age to another, and perhaps m 
 none more than the present. But your daily con- 
 verse with your Bible, which you mention, may 
 herein give you great assistance. I move also, that 
 since infidelity so much abounds, you would not 
 only, by close and serious consideration, endeavour 
 to settle yourself well in the fundamental principles 
 of religion ; but also that, as opportunity offers, you 
 would converse with those books which treat most 
 judiciously on the divine original of Cliristi- 
 anity, such as Grotius, Abadie, Baxter, Bates, Du 
 Plessis, &c. which may establish you against the 
 cavils that occur in almost all conversations, and 
 furnish you with arguments, which, when properly 
 offered, may be of use to make some impressions on 
 others. But being too much straitened to enlarge 
 at present, I can only add, that if your hearty falling 
 in with serious religion should prove any hinderance 
 to your advancement in the world, which I pray 
 God it may not, unless such advancement would 
 be a real snare to you, I hope you will trust our 
 Saviour's word, that it shall be no disadvantage to 
 you in the final issue. He has given you his word 
 for it, Matt. xix. 29. upon which you may safely 
 depend ; and I am satisfied, none that ever did 
 so at last repented of it. May you go on and 
 prosper, and the God of all grace and peace be with 
 you !" 
 
 § 49. I think it very evident, from the contents of 
 this letter, that the Major had not imparted to his 
 mother the most singular circumstances attending 
 his conversion ; and, indeed, there was something 
 so peculiar in them, that I do not wonder he was 
 always cautious in speaking of them, and, espe- 
 cially, that he was at first much on the reserve. 
 We may also naturally reflect, that tliere seems to 
 have been something very providential in this letter, 
 considering the debate in which our illustrious con- 
 vert was so soon engaged ; for it was written but 
 about three weeks before his conference with the 
 lady above mentioned, in the defence of Chris- 
 tianity ; or, at least, before the appointment of it. 
 And as some of the books recommended by Dr. 
 Calamy, particularly Abadie and Du Plessis, were 
 undoubtedly within his reach, if our English advo- 
 cates were not, this might, by the divine blessing, 
 contribute considerably towards arming him for 
 that combat, in which he came off with such happy 
 success. And as in this instance, so in many 
 others, they who will observe the coincidence and 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 147 
 
 concurrence of things, may be engaged to adore the 
 wise conduct of Providence in events, whicli, when 
 taken singly and by themselves, have nothing very 
 remarkable in them. 
 
 § 50. I think it was about this time that this re- 
 solute and exemplary Christian entered upon that 
 methodical manner of living, which he pursued 
 through so many succeeding years of his life, and 
 I believe, generally, so far as the broken state of 
 his health would allow it in his latter days, to the 
 very end of it. He used constantly to rise at four 
 in the morning, and to spend his time till six in the 
 secret exercises of devotion, reading, meditation, 
 and prayer ; in which last he contracted such a 
 fervency of spirit, as I believe few men living ever 
 obtained. This certainly tended very much to 
 strengthen that firm faith in God, and reverent 
 animating sense of his presence, for which he was 
 so eminently remarkable, and which carried him 
 through the trials and services of life with such 
 steadiness, and with such activity ; for he indeed 
 endured, and acted as always seeing him who is in- 
 visible. If at any time he was obliged to go out 
 before six in the morning, he rose proportionably 
 sooner : so that when a journey, or a march, has re- 
 quired him to be on horseback by four, he would be 
 at his devotions at furthest by two. He likewise 
 secured time for retirement in an evening ; and 
 that he might have it the more at command, and be 
 the more fit to use it properly, as well as the better 
 able to rise early the next morning, he generally 
 went to bed about ten : and, during tlic time I was 
 acquainted w ith him, he seldom ate any supper, but 
 a mouthful of bread with one glass of wine. In 
 consequence of this, as well as of his admirably 
 good constitution, and the long habit he had formed, 
 he required less sleep than most persons I have 
 known : and I doubt not but his uncommon pro- 
 gress in piety was in a great measure owing to these 
 resolute habits of self-denial. 
 
 §.51. A life any thing like this, could not, to be 
 sure, be entered upon, in the midst of such com- 
 pany as he had been accustomed to keep, witliout 
 fireat opposition ; especially, as he did not entirely 
 withdraw himself from all the circle of cheerful 
 conversation ; but, on the contrary, gave several 
 hours every day to it, lest religion should be re- 
 proached as having made him morose. He, how- 
 ever, early began a practice, which to the last day of 
 Ills life he retained, of reproving vice and profane- 
 iH'ss ; and was never afraid to debate the matter 
 w ith any, under the consciousness of such superi- 
 ority in the goodness of his(;ausc. 
 
 § .52. A remarkable instance of this happened, if 
 T mistake not, about the middle of the year 1720, 
 though I cannot be very exact as to the date of the 
 story. It was however on his first return to make 
 any considerable abode in England, after this re- 
 
 markable change. He had heard, on the other side 
 of the water, that it was currently reported among 
 his companions at home, that he was stark mad : a 
 report, at which no reader who knows the wisdom 
 of the world in these matters, will be much sur- 
 prised, any more than himself. He concluded 
 therefore that he should have many battles to fight, 
 and was willing to despatch the business as fast as 
 he could. And therefore, being to spend a few 
 days at the country house of a person of distin- 
 guished rank, with whom he had been very inti- 
 mate, whose name I do not remember that he told 
 me, nor did I think it proper to inquire after it, he 
 begged the favour of him that he would contrive 
 matters so, that a day or two after he came down 
 several of their former gay companions might meet 
 at his lordship's table ; that he might have an op- 
 portunity of making his apology to them, and ac- 
 quainting them with th<3 nature and reasons of his 
 change. It was accordingly agreed to, and a pretty 
 large company met on the day appointed, with pre- 
 vious notice that Major Gardiner would be there. 
 A good deal of raillery passed at dinner, to which 
 the Major made very little answer. But when the 
 cloth was taken away and the servants retired, he 
 begged their patience for a few minutes, and then 
 plainly and seriously told them what notions he en- 
 tertained of virtue and religion, and on what con- 
 siderations he had absolutely determined, that by the 
 grace of God he would make it the care and busi- 
 ness of life, w hatever he might lose by it, and what- 
 ever censure and contempt he might incur. He 
 well knew how improper it was in such company to 
 relate the extraordinary manner in which he was 
 awakened ; which they would probai)ly have inter- 
 preted to a demonstration of lunacy, against all the 
 gravity and solidity of his discourse : but he con- 
 tented himself with such a rational defence of a 
 righteous, sober, and godly life, as he knew none of 
 them could with any shadow of reason contest. He 
 then challenged them to propose any thing they 
 could urge, to prove that a life of irreligion and de- 
 bauchery was preferable to the fear, love, aiul wor- 
 ship, of the eternal (Jod, and a conduct agreeable to 
 the precepts of his gospel. And he failed not to 
 bear his testimony from his own experience, (to one 
 part of which many of them had been witnesses,) 
 that after having run the widest round of sensual 
 pleasure, with all the advantages the best constitu- 
 tion and spirits could give him, he had never tasted 
 any thing that deserved to be called happiness, till 
 he had made religion his refuge and his delight. 
 He testified, calmly and boldly, the hal>itual sereni- 
 ty and peace that he now felt in his own breast, (for 
 the most elevated delights he did not think fit to 
 plead, lest they should be esteemed enthusiasm,) 
 and the composure and pleasure with which he 
 looked forward to objects, which the gayest sinner 
 
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 U8 
 
 iiuist ;u-kiK)« ledge to be C([iially unavoidable and 
 dreadful. 
 
 § 53. I know not what might be attempted by 
 sonic of the company in answer to this ; but I well 
 remember he told me, the nmstcr of the table, a 
 person of a very frank and eandid disposition, eut 
 short the del>atc, and said, " Come, let us call 
 another eause : w e tlious^ht this man mad, and he is 
 in iiood earnest proving- that we are so." On the 
 wliolc, this well-judged eireumstanee saved him a 
 great deal of future trouble. When his former 
 ae(|uaintanee observed, that he was still conversible 
 and innocently cheerful, and that he was immov- 
 able in his resolutions, they desisted from further 
 importunity. And he has assured me, that, instead 
 of losing any one valuable frien<l by tliis change in 
 his character, he found himself much more esteemed 
 and regarded, by many who could not persuade 
 themselves to imitate his example. 
 
 § 54. I have not any memoirs of Colonel Gar- 
 diner's life, or any other remarkable event befalling 
 him in it, from the time of his return to England, till 
 liis marriage, in the year 1726 ; except the extracts 
 which have been sent me from some letters, which 
 lie wrote to his religious friends during this interval, 
 and which I cannot pass by without a more par- 
 ticular notice. It may be recollected, that in con- 
 sequence of the reduction of that regiment of 
 which he was major, he w as out of commission from 
 November the lOth, 1718, till June the 1st, 1724 ; 
 and after he returned from Paris, I find all his let- 
 ters, during this period, dated from London, where 
 he continued, in communion with the Christian 
 society under the pastoral care of Doctor Calamy. 
 As his good mother also belonged to tlie same, it is 
 easy to imagine, it must be an unspeakable pleasure 
 to her, to have such frecjucnt o|)portunities of con- 
 versing with such a son, of observing in his daily 
 conduct and discourses the blessed effects of that 
 change which divine grace had made in his heart, 
 and of sitting down with him monthly at that sacred 
 feast, where Cliristians so frequently enjoy the 
 divinest entertainments which they expect on this 
 side of heaven. I the rather mention this ordinance, 
 because as this excellent lady had a very high esteem 
 for it, so she had an opportunity of attending it, but 
 the very Lord's day immediately preceding herdcath, 
 which happened on Thursday, Oct. 7, 1725, after 
 her son Iiad been removed from her almost a year. 
 He had maintained her handsomely out of that very 
 moderate income, on which he subsisted since his 
 regiment had been disbanded ; and when she ex- 
 pressed her gratitude to him for it, he assured her, 
 I think in one of the last letters she ever received 
 from him, " that he esteemed it a great lionour, that 
 (iod put it into his power to make," what he called, 
 " a very small acknowledgment of all her care for 
 him, and especially of the many prayers she had 
 
 oftered on his account, which had already been re- 
 nmrkably answered, and the benefit of which he 
 hoped ever to enjoy." 
 
 § 55. I apprehend that the Earl of Stair's regi- 
 ment, to the majority of which he was promoted on 
 the 2()th of .Inly, 1724, was then quartered in 
 Scotland ; for all the letters in my hand, from that 
 time to the Gtli of February, 1726, are dated from 
 thence, and particularly from Douglas, Stranrawen, 
 Hamilton, and Ayr : but I liave the pleasure to 
 find, from comparing these with others of an earlier 
 date from London and the neighbouring parts, that 
 neither the detriment which he must suffer by being 
 so long out of commission, nor the hurry of affairs 
 while charged with it, could prevent or interrupt 
 that intercourse with heaven, which was his daily 
 feast, and Iiis daily strength. 
 
 § .5(). These were most eminently the happy years 
 of his life : for he had learned to estimate his happi- 
 ness, not by the increase of honour, or the possession 
 of wealth, or by what was much dearer to his gene- ^ 
 rous heart than either, the converse of the dearest 
 and wortliiest human friends ; but by nearness to 
 God, and by opportunities of humble converse 
 with him, in the lively exercise of contemplation, 
 praise, and prayer. Now there was no period of his 
 life in « hicli he was more eminently favoured with 
 these ; nor do I find any of his letters so overflowing 
 with transports of holy joy, as those which were 
 dated during this time. There are indeed in some 
 of them such very sublime passages, that I have 
 been dubious whether I should communicate thera 
 to the public or not ; lest I should administer mat- 
 ters of profane ridicule to some, who look upon all 
 the elevations of devotion as a contemptible en- 
 thusiasm. And it has also given me some appre- 
 hensions, lest it should discourage some pious Chris- 
 tians, who, after having spent several years in the 
 service of God, and in humble obedience to the 
 precepts of his gospel, may not have attained to 
 any such heights as these. But, on the whole, I 
 cannot satisfy myself to suppress thera ; not only as 
 I number some of them, considered in a devotional 
 view, among the most extraordinary pieces of the 
 kind I have ever met with ; but as some of the most 
 excellent and judicious persons I any where know, 
 to Avliom I have read them, have assured me, that 
 they felt their hearts in an unusual manner impress- 
 ed, quickened, and edified by them. 
 
 § 57. I will therefore draw back the Teil, and show 
 my much-honoured friend in his most secret re- 
 cesses ; that the world may see what those springs 
 were, from whence issued that clear, permanent, 
 a>nd living stream of wisdom, piety, and virtue, 
 which so apparently ran through all that part of his 
 life which was open to public observation. It is 
 not to be imagined, that letters written in the 
 intimacy of Christian friendsliip, some of them with 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 149 
 
 the most apparent marks of haste, and amidst a 
 variety of important public cares, should be adorned 
 with any studied elegance of expression, about 
 which the greatness of his soul would not allow him 
 to be at any time very solicitous ; for he generally, 
 so far as I could observe, wrote as fast as his pen 
 could move, which happily, both for him, and his 
 many friends, was very freely. Yet here the 
 grandeur of his subject has sometimes clothed his 
 ideas with a language more elevated than is ordi- 
 narily to be expected in an epistolary correspond- 
 ence. The proud scorners, who may deride senti- 
 ments and enjoyments like those which this truly 
 great man so experimentally and pathelicall}' 
 describes, I pity from my heart ; and grieve to think 
 how unfit they must be for the hallelujahs of heaven, 
 who pour contempt upon the nearest approaches to 
 them ; nor shall I think it any misfortune, to share 
 with so excellent a person in their profane derision. 
 It will be infinitely more than an equivalent for all 
 that such ignorance and petulancy can think and 
 say, if I may convince some, who are as yet strangers 
 to religion, how real, and how noble, its delights 
 are ; if I may engage my pious readers to glorify 
 God for so illustrious an instance of his grace ; and 
 finally, if I may quicken them, and above all may 
 rouse my own too indulgent spirit, to follow with 
 less unequal steps an example, to the sublimity of 
 which, I fear, few of us shall after all be able fully 
 to attain. And that we may not be too much dis- 
 couraged under the deficiency, let it be recollected, 
 that few have the advantage of a temper naturally 
 so warm ; few have 'an equal command of retire- 
 ment ; and perhaps hardly any one, who thinks 
 himself most indebted to the riches and freedom of 
 divine grace, can trace interpositions of it in all 
 respects equally astonishing. 
 
 § 58. The first of these extraordinary letters which 
 have fallen into ray hand, is dated near three years 
 after his conversion, and addressed to a lady of 
 quality. I believe it is the first the Major ever wrote 
 so immediately on the subject of his religious con- 
 solations and converse wilh God in devout retire- 
 ment. For I well remember, tliat he once told me, 
 he was so much afraid that something of spiritual 
 pride should mingle itself with the relation of such 
 kind of experiences, that he concealed them a long 
 time : but observing with how much freedom the 
 sacred writers open all the most secret recesses of 
 their hearts, especially in the Psalms, his conscience 
 began to be burthened, under an apprehension that, 
 for the honour of God, and in order to engage the 
 concurrent praises of some of his people, he ought 
 to disclose them. On tiiis he set himself to reflect, 
 who, among all his numerous actjuaintancc, seemed 
 at once the most experienced Christian he ever knew, 
 (to whom therefore such things as he had to com- 
 municate might appear solid and credible,) and who 
 
 the humblest. He quickly thought of the Lady 
 Marchioness of Douglas in this view: and the reader 
 may well imagine, that it struck my mind very 
 strongly, to think that now, more than twenty-four 
 years after it was written. Providence should bring 
 to my hands, as it has done within these few days, 
 what I assuredly believe to be a genuine copy of 
 that verj' letter ; which I had not the least reason 
 to expect I should ever have seen, when I learnt 
 from his own mouth, amidst the freedom of an 
 accidental conversation, the occasion and circum- 
 stances of it. 
 
 § 59. Itis dated from London, July 21, 1722, and 
 the very first lines of it relate to a remarkable cir- 
 cumstance, which from others of his letters I find 
 to have happened several times. I mean, that when 
 he had received from any of his Christian friends 
 a few lines which particularly affected his heart, 
 he could not stay till the stated return of his devo- 
 tional heur, but immediately retired to pray for 
 them, and to give vent to those religious emotions 
 of mind which such a correspondence raised. How 
 invaluable was such a friend ! And how great reason 
 have those of us who once possessed a large share 
 in his heart, and in those retired and sacred mo- 
 ments, to bless God for so singular a felicity ; and 
 to comfort ourselves in a pleasing hope that we may 
 yet reap futuce blessings, as the harvest of those 
 petitions which he can no more repeat ! 
 
 § 60. His words are these : " I was so happy as 
 to receive yours just as I arrived ; and I had no 
 sooner read it, but I .shut my door and sought him 
 whom my soul loveth. I sought him, and found 
 him ; and would not let him go till he had blessed 
 us all. It is impossible to find words to express 
 what I obtained ; but I suppose it was something 
 like that whicli the disciples got as they were going 
 to Emmaus, when they said. Did not our hearts 
 burn within us, &c. or rather like what Paul felt, 
 when he could not tell whether he was in the body 
 or out of it." He then mentions his dread of spi- 
 ritual pride, from which he earnestly prays that God 
 may deliver and preserve him. " This," says he, 
 " would have hindered me from communicating 
 these things, if I had not such an example before 
 me as the man after God's own heart, saying, I will 
 declare what God hath done for my soul ; and, else- 
 where. The humble shall hear thereof and be glad : 
 now I am well satisfied that your ladyship is of that 
 number." He then adds, " I had no sooner finish- 
 ed this exercise," that is, of prayer above men- 
 tioned, " but I sat down to admire tlie goodness of 
 my God, that he would vouchsafe to infiuence by 
 his free Spirit so undeserving a wretch as I, and 
 to make me thus to mount up with eagle's wings. 
 And here I was lost again, and got into an ocean 
 where I could find neither bound nor bottom ; but 
 was obliged to cry out with tlic apostle. Oh the 
 
ISO 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 broailtli, tlie 'len?;tli. Ilie deptli, the licifrlit, of the 
 love of Clirist, which passeth knowJcdgc ! But if I 
 jfive way to this strain I shall never have clone. 
 That tlu' God of hope may fill you with all joy and 
 peace in believing, that you may abound in hope 
 through the power of the Holy Ghost, shall always 
 be the prayer of him, who is, with the greatest sin- 
 cerity and respect, your ladyship's," &e. 
 
 § 61. Another passage to the same purpose I find 
 in a memorandum wliieh he seems to have written 
 for his own use, dated Monday, March 11, which I 
 perceive, from many concurrent circumstances, 
 must have been in the year 1722-3. " This day," 
 saj's he, " having been to visit Mrs. G. at Hamp- 
 stead, I came home about two, and read a sermon 
 on tlicse words. Psalm cxxx. 4. But there is for- 
 giveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared ; 
 about the latter end of w hich there is a description 
 of the miserable condition of those that are slighters 
 of pardoning grace. From a sense of the great ob- 
 ligations I lay under to the Almighty God, who hath 
 made me to differ from such, from what I was, and 
 from the rest of my companions, I knelt down to 
 praise his holy name : and I know not that in my 
 lifetime I ever lay lower in the dust, never having 
 had a fuller view of my nnwortliiness. I never 
 pleaded more strongly the merits and intercession 
 of him who I know is worthy ; never vowed more 
 sincerely to be the Lord's, and to accept of Christ 
 as he is offered in the gospel, as my King, Priest, 
 and Prophet ; never had so strong a desire to de- 
 part, that T might sin no more ; but — my grace is 
 sufficient — curbed that desire. I never pleaded 
 with, greater fervency for the Comforter, which our 
 blessed Lord hath promised shall abide with us for 
 ever. For all which I desire to ascribe glory, &c. 
 to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb." 
 
 § 62. There are several others of his papers which 
 speak much the same language ; which, had he kept 
 a diary, would, I doubt not, have filled many sheets. 
 I believe my devout readers would not soon be 
 weary of reading extracts of tliis kind : but that I 
 may not exceed in this part of my narrative, I shall 
 mention only two more, each of them dated some 
 years after; that is, one from Douglas, April 1st, 
 1725, and the other from Stranrawen, the 25th of 
 May following. 
 
 § 63. The former of these relates to the frame of 
 his spirit on a journey. On the mention of which 
 I cannot but recollect how often I have heard him 
 say, that some of the most deliglitful days of Jiis 
 life were days in which he travelled alone, that is, 
 with only a servant at a distance ; when he could, 
 especially in roads not much frequented, indulge 
 himself in the pleasures of prayer and praise. In 
 the exercise of which last he was greatly assisted 
 by several psalms and hymns, which he had trea- 
 sured up in his memory, and which he used not 
 
 only to repeat aloud, but sometimes to sing. In 
 reference to this I remember the following passage, 
 in a letter which he wrote to me many years after, 
 when, on mentioning my ever dear and honoured 
 friend, the Rev. Dr. Watts, he says, " How often 
 in singing some of his psalms, hymns, or lyrics, on 
 horseback, and elsewhere, has the evil spirit been 
 made to fice ; 
 
 " Whene'er my heart in tune was found 
 Like David's harp of solemn sound!" 
 
 § 64. Such was the first of April above mentioned, 
 in the evening of which he writes thus to an inti- 
 mate friend : " What would I have given this day, 
 upon the road, for paper, pen, and ink, when the 
 Spirit of the Most High rested upon me f Oh for 
 the pen of a ready writer, and the tongue of an 
 angel, to declare what God hath done this day for 
 my soul ! But in short, it is in vain to attempt it : 
 all that I am able to say, is only this, that my soul 
 has been for some hours joining with the blessed 
 spirits above, in giving glory, and honour, and 
 praise, unto h im that .sitteth upon the throne, and 
 to the Lamb, for ever and ever. My praises began 
 from a renewed view of him, whom I saw pierced 
 for my transgressions. I summoned the whole 
 hierarchy of heaven to join with me ; and I am 
 persuaded, they all echoed back praise to the Most 
 High. Yea, one would have thought the very larks 
 joined me with emulation. Sure then I need not 
 make use of many words to persuade you that are 
 his saints, to join me in blessing and praising his 
 holy name." He concludes, " May the blessing 
 of the God of Jacob rest upon you all ! Adieu. 
 Written in great haste, late, and weary." 
 
 § 65. Scarce can I here refrain from breaking out 
 into more copious reflections on the exquisite plea- 
 sures of true religion, when risen to such eminent 
 degrees ; which can thus feast the soul in its soli- 
 tude, and refresh it on journeys ; and bring down 
 so much of heaven to earth, as this delightful letter 
 expresses. But the remark is so obvious, that I 
 will not enlarge upon it ; but proceed to the other 
 letter above mentioned, which was written the next 
 month, on the Tuesday after a sacrament day. 
 
 § 66. He mentions the pleasure with which he had 
 attended a preparation-sermon the Saturday before ; 
 and then he adds, " I took a walk upon the moun- 
 tains that are over against Ireland ; and I persuade 
 myself, that were I capable of giving you a descrip- 
 tion of what passed there, you would agree, that I 
 had much better reason to remember my God from 
 the hills of Port Patrick, than David from the land 
 of Jordan and of the Hcrmonites, from the hill Mi- 
 zar." I suppose he means in reference to the clearer 
 discoveries of the gospel with which we are favour- 
 ed. " In short," says he immediately afterwards, 
 in that Scripture phrase which was become so fa- 
 miliar to him, " I wrestled some hours with the 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 151 
 
 angel of the covenant, and made supplication to 
 bim with Hoods of tears and cries — until I had 
 almost expired : but he strengthened me so, that, 
 like Jacob, I had power with God, and prevailed. 
 This," adds he, " is but a very faint description ; 
 you will be more able to judge of it by what you 
 have felt yourself upon the like occasions. After 
 such preparatory work, I need not tell you how 
 blessed the solemn ordinance of the Lord's supper 
 proved to me ; I hope it was so to many. You may 
 believe, I should have been exceeding glad if my 
 gracious Lord had ordered it so that I might have 
 made you a visit, as I proposed : but I am now glad 
 it was ordered otherwise, since he hath caused so 
 much of his goodness to pass before me. Were I 
 to give you an account of the many favours my God 
 hath loaded me with since I parted from you, I must 
 have taken up many days in nothing but writing. 
 I hope you will join with me in praises for all the 
 goodness he has shown to your unworthy brother 
 in the Lord.'" 
 
 § 67. Such were the ardours and elevations of 
 his soul : but while I record these memorials of 
 them, I am very sensible there are many who will 
 be inclined to censure them as the flights of enthu- 
 siasm ; for which reason I must beg leave to add a 
 remark or two on the occasion, which will be illus- 
 trated by several other extracts, which I shall 
 introduce into the sequel of these memoirs. The 
 one is, that he never pretends, in any of the pas- 
 sages cited above, or elsewhere, to have received 
 any immediate revelations from God, which should 
 raise him above the ordinary methods of instruction, 
 or discover any thing to him, whether of doctrines 
 or facts. No man was further from pretending to 
 predict future events, except it were from the moral 
 prognostications of causes naturally tending to 
 produce them ; in tracing of which he had indeed 
 an admirable sagacity, as I have seen in some very 
 remarkable instances. Neither was he at all in- 
 clinable to govern himself by secret impulses upon 
 tiic mind, leading him to things for which he could 
 assign no reason but the impulse itself. Had he 
 ventured, in a presumption on such secret agitations 
 of mind, to teach or to do any thing not warranted 
 by the dictates of sound sense and the word of 
 God, I should readily have acknowledged him an 
 enthusiast, unless he could have produced some 
 other evidence than his own persuasion to have 
 supported the autliority of them. But these ardent 
 expressions, which some may call enthusiasm, seem 
 only to evidence a heart deeply affected with a sense 
 of the divine presence and perfections, and of that 
 love which passctii knowledge ; espc<;ialiy as mani- 
 fested in our redemption by the Son of God, vvliich 
 did inllame his whole soul. And he thought he 
 might reasonably ascribe the strong impressions to 
 whicli men are generally such strangers, and of 
 
 which he had long been entirely destitute, to the 
 agency or influence of the Spirit of God upon his 
 heart ; and that, in proportion to the degree in 
 which he felt them, he might properly say, God 
 was present with him, and he conversed with God.* 
 Now, when we consider the scriptural phrases of 
 walking with God, of having communion with the 
 Father and his Son Jesus Christ, of Christ's coming 
 to them that open the door of their hearts to him, 
 and supping with them, of God's shedding abroad 
 his love in the heart by his Spirit, of his coming 
 with Jesus Christ, and making his abode with any 
 man that loves him, of his meeting him that worketh 
 righteousness, of his making us glad by the light of 
 his countenance, and a variety of other equivalent 
 expressions ; I believe we shall see reason to judge 
 much more favourably of such expressions as those 
 now in question, than persons who are themselves 
 strangers to elevated devotion, and perhaps con- 
 verse but little with their Bible, are inclined to do ; 
 especially if they have, as many such persons have, 
 a temper that inclines them to cavil and find fault. 
 And I must further observe, that, amidst all those 
 freedoms with which this eminent Christian opens 
 his devout heart to the most intimate of his friends, 
 he still speaks with profound awe and reverence of 
 liis heavenly Father, and his Saviour, and main- 
 tains, after the example of the sacred writers them- 
 selves, a kind of dignity in his expressions suitable 
 to such a subject, without any of that fond fami- 
 liarity of language, and degrading meanness of 
 phrase, by which it is, especially of late, grown 
 fashionable among some (who, nevertheless, I be- 
 lieve, mean well) to express their love and their 
 humility. 
 
 § as. On the whole, if habitual love to God, firm 
 faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, a steady dependence 
 on the divine promises, a full persuasion of the 
 wisdom and goodness of all the dispensations of 
 Providence, a high esteem for the blessings of the 
 heavenly world, and a sincere contempt for the 
 vanities of this, can properly be called enthusiasm; 
 then was Colonel Gardiner, indeed, one of the 
 greatest enthusiasts our age has produced ; and in 
 proportion to the degree in which he was so, I must 
 esteem him one of the wisest and happiest of man- 
 kind. Nor do I fear to tell the world, that it is the 
 
 * The inc:cnioiis and pious Mr. Grove, wlio, I think, was as little 
 snsperted of runiiin'^ into enthiisiastical extremes as most divines I 
 conld name, has a nohle pa.ssa;;e to this purpose, in tlie sixtli volume of 
 his Pfislhnnions Works, pat^e 40, 41. whicli respect to the memory of 
 hotli tliese excellent persons inclines me to insert here. *' How often 
 arc ^Ofxi thoiiuhts sut^K^S'*^*!." (vi/-. to the pure in heart,) " heavenly 
 affections kindled and inflamed ! How ot'ti-n is the Christian prompteil 
 to holy actions, dr.iwn to his duty, restored, fpiickeiied, perNuaded, in 
 such a manner, that he would be unjust to the Spirit of (iod to ipies. 
 tion his a;;ency in the whole! Ves, oh my soul, there is a Supreme 
 licinp', v;ho i;o\eriis the world, and is present with it, who takes up 
 his more special habitation in fiood men, and is ni;;h to .all who call 
 upon him, to sanctify anil assist them ! Hast thou not felt him, oh my 
 soul, like another soui, actuating thy faculties, exallinic thy views, 
 purifyin;;: thy passions, exciting thy jjraces, and hc;;eltin'.^ in thee an 
 abhorrence of sin, and a love of lK>]ir>ess ? And is not all this an argu- 
 ment of his presence, as truly as if thou didst see him ?" 
 
152 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 (losiijii of my wTitiiif; tliosc inoinoirs, and of every 
 thins: i lsf that 1 unilcrtakc in life, to spread this 
 glorious and blessed cntliusiasm ; whieh I know to 
 be the antieipation of heaven, as well as tlic most 
 certain way to it. 
 
 § ()■;). Hut lest any should possibly inia'^ine, tliat 
 allow ing the experiences which have been described 
 above to have been ever so solid and important, 
 yet there may be some appearance of boastinf; in 
 so free a communication of them ; I must add to 
 what I have hinted in reference to this above, that 
 I find in many of the papers before me very genuine 
 expressions of the deepest humility and self-abase- 
 ment ; which indeed such holy converse with God 
 in prayer and praise, docs above all things in the 
 world tend to inspire and promote- Thus in one of 
 his letters he says, " I am but as a beast before 
 him." In another he calls himself a miserable hell- 
 desei'N'ing sinner : and in another he cries out, " O, 
 l)ow good a Master do I serve I but alas, how un- 
 grateful am I ! What can be so astonishing as the 
 love of Christ to us, unless it be the coldness of our 
 sinful hearts towards such a Saviour?" With many 
 other clauses of the like nature, which I shall not 
 set myself more particularly to trace, through the 
 variety of letters in which they occur. 
 
 § 70. It is a further instance of this unfeigned 
 humility, that when (as his lady with her usual pro- 
 priety of language expresses it, in one of her letters 
 to me concerning him) " these divine joys and con- 
 solations were not his daily allowance," he with 
 equal freedom, in the confidence of Christian friend- 
 ship, acknowledges and laments it. Thus, in the 
 first letter I had the honour of receiving from him, 
 dated from Leicester, July 9, 1739, when he had 
 been mentioning the blessing with which it had 
 pleased God to attend my last address to him, and 
 the influence it had upon his mind, he adds, " Mucli 
 do I stand in need of every help, to awaken me out 
 of that spiritual deadness which seizes me so often. 
 Once indeed it was quite othei-wise with me, and 
 that for many years, 
 
 ' Firm was my licaltli, my day was bright, 
 And T presumed 'twoiilil ne'er be nig^ht; 
 Fondly I said witliin my liearl, 
 Pleasure and peace shall ne'er depart. 
 But I forg^ot thine arm was strong:, 
 Which made my mountain stand so long: 
 Soon as thy face began to hide, 
 My health was gone, my comforts died.' 
 
 And here," adds he, " lies my sin and my folly." 
 
 § 71. I mention this, that the whole matter may 
 seem just as it was, and that other Christians may 
 not be discouraged if they feel some abatement of 
 that fervour, and of those holy joys, which they 
 may have experienced during some of the first 
 months or years of their spiritual life. But with 
 relation to the Colonel, I have great reason to be- 
 lieve, that these which he laments as his days of 
 
 spiritual deadness were not iinanimated ; and that 
 quickly after the date of this letter, and especially 
 nearer the close of his life, he had further revivings, 
 as the joyful anticijiation of those better things in 
 reserve, which were then nearly approaching. And 
 thus Mr. Spears, in the letter I mentioned above, 
 tells us he related the matter to him : (for he studies 
 as much as possible to retain the Colonel's own 
 words :) " However," says he, " after that happy 
 period of sensible communion, though my joys and 
 enlargements were not so overflowing and sensible, 
 yet I have had habitual real communion with God 
 from that day to this ;" the latter end of the year 
 1743 ; " and I know myself, and all that know mc 
 see, that through the grace of God, to which I 
 ascribe all, my conversation has been becoming the 
 gospel ; and let me die whenever it shall please 
 (Jod, or wherever it shall be, I am sure I shall go to 
 the mansions of eternal glory," &c. And this is 
 perfectly agreeable to the manner in which he used 
 to speak to me on this head, which we have talked 
 over frequently and largely. 
 
 § 72. In this connexion I hope my reader will 
 forgive my inserting a little story, which I received 
 from a very worthy minister in Scotland, and which 
 I shall give in his own words. " In this period," 
 meaning that which followed the first seven years 
 after his conversion, " when his complaint of com- 
 parative deadness and languor in religion began, 
 he had a dream ; which, though he had no turn at 
 all for taking notice of dreams, yet made a very 
 strong impression upon his mind. He imagined 
 that he saw his blessed Redeemer on earth, and 
 that he was following him through a large field, 
 following him whom his soul loved, but much 
 troubled, because he thought his blessed Lord did 
 not speak to him ; till he came up to the gate of a 
 burying-place, when turning about he smiled upon 
 him, in such a manner as filled his soul with the 
 most ravishing joy ; and on after-reflection ani- 
 mated his faith, in believing that whatever storms 
 and darkness he might meet with in the way, at the 
 hour of death his glorious Redeemer would lift up 
 upon him the light of his life-giving countenance." 
 My correspondent adds a circumstance, for which 
 he makes some apology, as what may seem whim- 
 sical, and yet made some impression on himself; 
 " that there was a remarkable resemblance in the 
 field in which this brave man met death, and that 
 he had represented to him in the dream." I did not 
 fully understand this at first ; but a passage in that 
 letter from Mr. Spears which I have mentioned more 
 than once, has cleared it. " Now observe. Sir, 
 this seems to be a literal description of the place 
 where this Christian hero ended his sorrows and 
 conflicts, and from which he entered triumphantly 
 into the joy of his Lord." For after he fell in the 
 battle, fighting gloriously for his king, and the cause 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 153 
 
 of his God, his wounded body, whiie life was yet 
 reiuaiiiinfj, was carried from the field of battle, by 
 the east side of his own enclosure, till he came to the 
 church-yai'd of TraTient, and was brought to the 
 minister's house ; where he soon after breathed his 
 soul into the hands of his Lord, and was conducted 
 to his presence, where there is fulness of joy, with- 
 out any cloud or interruption for ever." 
 
 § 73. I well know that in dreams there are diverse 
 vanities, and readily acknowledoje that nothing cer- 
 tain could be inferred from this ; j'et it seems at 
 least to show which way the imagination was work- 
 ing, even in sleep ; and I cannot tliink it unworthy 
 of a wise and good man, sometimes to reflect with 
 complacency on any images, which, passing through 
 his mind even in that state, may tend either to ex- 
 press, or to quicken, his love to the great Saviour. 
 Those eminently pious divines of the church of 
 England, Bishop Bull and Bishop Kenn, do both 
 intimate it as their opinion, that it may be a part of 
 the service of ministering angels to suggest devout 
 dreams:* and I know that the worthy person of 
 whom I speak was well acquainted with that mid- 
 night hymn of the latter of those excellent writers, 
 which has these lines : 
 
 "Lord, lest tlic tempter me surprise, 
 Watch over tliine own sacrifice! 
 All loose, all idle thoughts cast out ; 
 And make my very dreams devout I" 
 
 Nor would it be difficult to produce other passages 
 much to the same purpose, f if it would not be 
 deemed too great a digression from our subject, and 
 too laboured a vin<lication of a little incident of 
 very small importance, when compared with most 
 of those which make up this narrative. 
 
 § 74. I meet not with any other remarkable event 
 relating to Mwjor Gardiner, which can properly be 
 introduced here, till the year 1726 ; when, on the 
 11th day of July, he was married to the Right 
 Honourable the Lady Frances Erskinc, daughter to 
 the late Earl of Buchan, by whom he had thirteen 
 children, five only of whom survived their father, 
 
 « Bishop Bull has tlieic remarkahlc words; "Although I am no 
 doalcr on dreams, yet I virily Ixlieve tliat some dreams arc monitory, 
 ahove the power of fancy, and impressed upon us by some superior in- 
 fluence. For of such dreams we have plain and undcniahle instances 
 in history, Imth sacred and profane, and m our nwna','e and observation. 
 Nor shall I m value the lauijhlerof scepticsand thescoll's of the Epicu. 
 reans, as to be ashamed to profess that I myself have had some con. 
 vincm'; experiments of such impressions." — Bishop Bull's Serm. and 
 Disc Vol. II. |.. 189, 4M. 
 
 + If I mistikc not, the s.ime Bishop Kenn is tlieauthorof a midni"ht 
 Jiymn, conchiduij; with the words, " 
 
 " May my a-therial ;;uardian kindly spread 
 His winj.'s, and from the tempter screi ii my lie;\il ; 
 Grant of celestial li-ht some piercin)^ beams. 
 To bless my sleep, and sanctify my dreams !" 
 
 Ajs he certainly was of Uiosc exactly parallel lines : 
 
 " Oh m.iy my Kuardian, while I sleep. 
 
 Close to niy bed his viijils keep ; 
 
 His love angelical instil, 
 
 .Stop all the avenues of ill I 
 
 Maybe celestial joys rehearse. 
 
 And thought to thought with mc converse !" 
 
 two sons and three daughters : whom I cannot 
 mention without the most fervent prayers to God 
 for them, that they may always behave worthy the 
 honour of being descended from such parents ; and 
 that the God of their father, and of their mother, 
 may make them perpetually the care of his provi- 
 dence, and yet more eminently happy in the con- 
 stant and abundant inlluences of his grace ! 
 
 § 75. As her ladyship is still living, (and for the 
 sake of her dear offspring, and numerous friends, 
 may she long be spared,) I shall not here indulge 
 myself in saying any thing of her ; except it be, 
 that the Colonel assured me, when he had been 
 happy in this intimate relation to her more than four- 
 teen 5'ears, that the greatest imperfection he knew 
 in her character was, " that she valued and loved 
 him much more than he deserved." And little did 
 he think, in the simplicity of heart with which he 
 spoke this, how high an encomium he was making 
 upon her, and how lasting an honour such a testi- 
 mony must leave upon her name, long as the me- 
 mory of it shall continue. 
 
 § 76. As I do not intend in these memoirs a la- 
 boured essay on the character of Colonel Gardiner, 
 digested under the various virtues and graces which 
 Christianity requires ; which would, I think, be a 
 little too formal for a work of this kind, and would 
 give it such an air of panegyric as would neither 
 suit my design, nor be at all likely to render it more 
 useful ; I shall now mention what I have either ob- 
 served in him, or beard concerning him, with regard 
 to tliose domestic relations, which commenced about 
 this time, or quickly after. And here my reader 
 will easily conclude, that the resolution of Joshua 
 was from the first adopted and declared, As for me, 
 and my house, we will serve the Lord. It will 
 naturally be supposed, that as soon as be had a 
 house, he erected an altar in it ; that the word of 
 God was read there, and prayers and praises were 
 constantly offered. These were not to be omitted 
 on account of any guest ; for he esteemed it a part 
 of due respect to those that remained under his 
 roof, to take it for granted they would look upon 
 it as a very bad compliment, to imagine they would 
 have been obliged by neglecting the duties of re- 
 ligion on their account. As his family increased, 
 he had a minister statedly resident in his house, 
 who both discharged the office of a tutor to his 
 cliildren, and of a chaplain ; and who was always 
 treated with a l)ccoming kindness and respect. 
 But in his absence, the Colonel himself led the de- 
 votions of the family ; and they were ha|)py who 
 had an opi)ortunity of knowing with how much 
 solemnity, fervour, and pro|)riety, he did it. 
 
 § 77. He was constant in attendance upon public 
 worsltip, ill which an exemplary care was taken 
 that the children and scrvanls might accompany the 
 heads of the family. And how he would have re- 
 
154 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 scnted tlic noii-atfcndancc of any member of it nw)- 
 easily be conjectured, from a free but lively passage 
 in a letter to one of his intimate friends, on an oc- 
 casion which it is not material to mention. " Oh, 
 Sir. had a diild of yours under niy roof but once 
 ncn jcctcil tlie public worslii)) of God, when he was 
 able to attend it, I siiould have been ready to con- 
 clude lie had been distracted, and should have 
 thou^jht of shaving; his head, and confinin<? him in 
 a dark room." 
 
 § 78. He always treated his lady with a manly 
 tenderness, a;i^'i"o the most natural evidences 
 of a cordial habitual esteem, and expressing a most 
 affectionate sympatliy with lier, under the inlirmi- 
 ties of a very delicate constitution, niucli broken, 
 at least towards the latter years of their niarriag;c, 
 in consequence of so frequent pregnancy. He had 
 at all limes a most faithful care of all her interests, 
 and especially tliose relating to the state of religion 
 in her mind. His conversation and lus letters con- 
 curred to cherish those sublime ideas which Chris- 
 tianity suggests ; to promote our submission to the 
 ■will of God, to teach us to centre our happiness in 
 tlie great Author of our being, and to live by faith 
 in tiie invisil)Ie world. These, no doubt, were fre- 
 quently the subjects of mutual discourse : and many 
 letters, wliicli her ladyship has had the goodness 
 to communicate to me, are most convincing evi- 
 dences of the degree in vchich this noble and most 
 friendly care fdled his mind in the days of their 
 separation ; days, which so entire a mutual affec- 
 tion must have rendered exceeding painful, had 
 they not been supported by such exalted senti- 
 ments of piety, and sweetened by daily communion 
 vpith an ever present and ever gracious God. 
 
 § 79. The necessity of being so many months to- 
 gether distant from his family, hindered him from 
 many of those condescending labours in cultivating 
 the minds of his children in early life, whicli to a 
 soul so benevolent, so wise, and so zealous, would 
 undoubtedly have afforded a very exquisite pleasure. 
 Tlie care of his worthy consort, who well knew that 
 it is one of the brightest parts of a mother's charac- 
 ter, and one of the most important views in which 
 the sex can be considered, made him the easier un- 
 der such a circumstance : but when he was with 
 them he failed not to instruct and admonish them ; 
 and tlie constant deep sense with which he spoke of 
 divine things, and the real unaffected indifference 
 which lie always showed for what this vain world is 
 most ready to admire, were excellent lessons of 
 daily wisdom, which I hope they will recollect with 
 advantage in every future scene of life. And I 
 have seen such hints in his letters relating to them, 
 as plainly show with how great a weight they lay on 
 his mind, and how highly he desired, above all 
 things, that they might be the faithful disciples of 
 Christ, and acquainted betimes with the unequalled 
 
 pleasures and blessings of religion. He thought 
 an excess of delicacy and of indulgence one of the 
 most dangerous faults in education, by which he 
 every where saw great numbers of young people 
 undone: yet he was solicitous to guard against a 
 severity which might terrify or discourage ; and, 
 though he endeavoured to take all prudent pre- 
 cautions to prevent the commission of faults, yet, 
 when they had been coniniitted, and there seemed 
 to be a sense of them, he was always ready to make 
 the most candid allowances for the thoughtlessness 
 of unripened years, and tenderly to cherish every 
 purpose of a more proper conduct for the time to 
 come. 
 
 § 80. It was easy to perceive, that the openings 
 of genius in the young branches of his family 
 gave him great delight, and that he had a secret 
 ambition to see them excel in what they undertook. 
 Yet he was greatly cautious over his heart, lest it 
 should be too fondly attached to them ; and, as he 
 was one of the most eminent proficients I ever 
 knew in the blessed science of resignation to the 
 divine will, so there was no effect of that resigna- 
 tion which appeared to me more admirable than 
 what related to the life of his children. An expe- 
 rience, which no length of time will ever efface out 
 of my memory, has so sensibly taught me how diffi- 
 cult it is fully to support the Christian character 
 here, that I hope my reader will pardon me (I am 
 sure at least the heart of wounded parents will) if 
 I dwell a little longer upon so interesting a subject. 
 
 § 81. When he was in Herefordshire, in the month 
 of July, in the year 1734, it pleased God to visit his 
 little family with the small-pox. Five days before 
 the date of the letter I am just going to mention, 
 he had received the agreeable news, that there was 
 a prospect of the recovery of his son, then under 
 that awful visitation ; and he had been expressing 
 his thankfulness for it in a letter which he had sent 
 away but a few liours before he was informed of his 
 death; the surprise of which, in this connexion, 
 must naturally be very great. But behold (says 
 the reverend and worthy person from whom I re- 
 ceived the copy) his truly filial submission to the 
 will of his heavenly Father in the following lines, 
 addressed to the dear partner of his affliction : 
 " Your resignation to the will of God under this 
 dispensation gives me more joy than the death of 
 the child has given me sorrow. He, to be sure, is 
 happy ; and we shall goto him, though he shall not 
 return to us. Oh that we had our latter end always 
 in view ! — We shall soon follow : and oh what 
 reason have we to long for that glorious day, when 
 we shall get quit of this body of sin and death, un- 
 der which we now groan, and which renders this 
 
 life so wretched ! I desire to bless God, that 
 
 [another of his children] is in so good a way : but 
 I have resigned her. We must not choose for our- 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 15d 
 
 selves ; and it is well we must not, for we should 
 often make a very bad choice. And therefore it is 
 our wisdom, as well as our duty, to leave all with 
 a gracious God ; who hath promised that all things 
 shall work together for good to those that love him : 
 and he is faithful that hath promised, who will in- 
 fallibly perform it if our unbelief does not stand in 
 the way." 
 
 ^ 82. The greatest trial of this kind that he ever 
 bore, was in the removal of bis second son, who was 
 one of the most amiable and promising children 
 that has been known. The dear little creature was 
 the darling of all that knew him ; and promised 
 very fair, so far as a child could be known by its 
 doings, to have been a great ornament to the family, 
 and blessing to the public. The suddenness of the 
 stroke must, no doubt, render it the more painful ; 
 for this beloved child was snatched away by an ill- 
 ness which seized him but about fifteen hours before 
 it carried him off. He died in the month of October, 
 1733, at near six years old. Their friends were 
 ready to fear that his aflectionate parents would be 
 almost overwhelmed with such a loss : but the 
 happy father had so firm a persuasion, that God 
 had received the dear little one to the felicities of 
 the celestial world ; and at the same time had so 
 strong a sense of the divine goodness, in taking o"ne 
 of his children, and that too one who lay so near 
 his heart, so early to himself ; that the sonows of 
 nature were quite swallowed up in the sublime joy 
 which these considerations administered. When 
 he reflected what human life is, how many its 
 snares and temptations are, and how frequently 
 children, who once promised well, are insensil)ly 
 corrupted, and at length undone ; with Solomon, 
 he blessed the dead already dead, more than tlie 
 living who were yet alive ; and felt an unspeakable 
 pleasure in looking after the lovely infant, as safely 
 and delightfully lodged in the house of its heavenly 
 Father. Yea, he assured me, that his heart was at 
 this time so entirely taken up with these views, 
 that he was afraid they who did not thorougldy 
 know him, might suspect that he was deficient in 
 the natural allectionsof a parent ; while thus borne 
 above the anguish of tlicm, by the views which 
 faith administered to him, and which divine grace 
 supported in his soul. 
 
 . § 83. So much did he, on one of the most trying 
 occasions of life, manifest of the temper of a glori- 
 fied saint ; and to such happy purposes did he retain 
 those lessons of submission to God, and acquies- 
 cence in him, whicli I remember he once inculcated 
 in a letter he wrote to a lady of quality, under (he 
 apprehension of a breach in her family with which 
 Providence seemed to threaten her, which I am 
 willing to insert here, though a little out of what 
 might seem its most proper place, rather than 
 entirely to omit it. It is dated from London, June 
 
 16, 1722, when speaking of the dangerous illness of 
 a dear relative, he has these words : " When my 
 mind runs hither," that is, to God, as its refuge and 
 strong defence, as the connexion plainly determines 
 it, " I think I can bear any thing, the loss of all, 
 the loss of health, of relations on whom I depend, 
 and whom I love, all that is dear to me, without 
 repining or murmuring. When I think, that God 
 orders, disposes, and manages all things, according 
 to the counsel of his own will ; when I think of 
 the extent of his providence, that it reaches to the 
 minutest things ; then, though a useful friend or 
 dear relative be snatched away by death, I recall 
 myself, and check my thoughts with these consider- 
 ations. Is he not God, from everlasting, and to 
 everlasting ? And has he not promised to be a God 
 to me ? a God in all his attributes, a God in all 
 his persons, a God in all his creatures, and pro- 
 vidences ? And shall I dare to say. What shall I 
 do ! Was not he the infinite cause of all I met with 
 in the creatures ? And were not they the finite 
 effects of his infinite love and kindness? I have 
 daily experienced, that the instrument was, and is, 
 what God makes it to be ; and I know, that this 
 God hath the hearts of all men in his hands ; and 
 the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof. If 
 this earth be good for me, I shall have it ; for my 
 Father hath it all in possession. If favour in the 
 eyes of men be good for me, I shall have it ; for 
 the spring of every motion in the heart of man is in 
 God's hand. My dear — —seems now to be dying ; 
 but God is all-w ise, and every thing is done by him 
 for the best. Shall I hold back any thing that is 
 his own, when he requires it .' No, God forbid ! 
 When I consider the excellency of his glorious at- 
 tributes, I am satisfied with all his dealings." I 
 perceive by the introduction, and by what follows, 
 that most, if not all, of this, is a quotation from 
 something written by a lady ; but whether from 
 some manuscript, or a printed book, whether ex- 
 actly transcribed, or quoted from memory, I cannot 
 determine : and therefore I thought proper to insert 
 it, as the Major, (for that w as the ollice he bore then,) 
 by thus interweaving it with his letter, makes it his 
 own ; and as it seems to express in a very lively 
 manner the principles which bore him on to a 
 conduct so truly great and heroic, in circumstances 
 that have overwhelmed many a heart that could 
 have faced danger and death with the greatest 
 intrepidity. 
 
 § 84. I return now to consider his character in 
 the domestic relation of a master, on which I shall 
 not enlarge. It is however proper to remark, that 
 as his habitual meekness, and command of his 
 passions, prevented indecent sallies of ungovern- 
 able anger towards those in the lowest state of sub- 
 jection to him, (by which some in high life do 
 strangely debase themselves, and lose much of their 
 
15« 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 anlliorily,") so llio natural greatness of liis mind 
 made him solicitous to render their inferior stations 
 as easy as he eoiild ; and so much the rather, be- 
 cause he considered all the children of Adam as 
 standing upon a level before their grreat Creator, 
 and had also a deeper sense of the difinity and 
 worth of every immortal soul, how meanly soever 
 it niijilit chance to be lodifed, than most jx-rsons I 
 ha\c know n. This cngaffcd liim to fjivc liis servants 
 fretiuent religious exhortations and instructions, as 
 I have been assured by several who were so happy 
 as to live with him under that character. One of 
 the first .letters after he entered on his Christian 
 course, expresses the same disposition ; in which 
 with great tenderness he recommends a servant, 
 ■who was in a bad state of health, to his mother's 
 care, as he was well acquainted with her coiide- 
 scending temper ; mentioning at the same time the 
 endeavours he had used to promote his jircparation 
 for a better M'orld, under an apprehension that he 
 would not continue long in this. And we shall 
 have an aft'ecting instance of the prcvalency of the 
 same disposition, in the closing scene of his life, 
 and indeed in the last words he ever spoke, which 
 expressed his generous solicitude for the safety of 
 a faithful servant, who was then near him. 
 
 § 85. As it was a few years after liis marriage 
 that he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant- 
 colonel, in which he continued till he had a regi- 
 ment of his own, I shall for the future speak of him 
 by that title ; and may not perhaps find any more 
 proper place, in whicli to mention what it is proper 
 for me to say of his behaviour and conduct as an 
 officer. I shall not here enlarge on his bravery in 
 the field, though that was very remarkable, as I 
 have heard from others ; I say from others, for I 
 never heard any thing of that kind from himself, 
 nor knew, till after his death, that he was present 
 at almost every battle that was fought in Flanders 
 while the illustrious Duke of Marlborough com- 
 manded the allied army there. I have also been 
 assured from several very credible persons, some of 
 whom were eye-witnesses, that at the skirmish with 
 the rebels at Preston in Lancashire (tliirty years 
 before that engagement at the other Preston, which 
 deprived u-s of this gallant guardian of his country) 
 he signalized himself very particularly: for he 
 headed a little body of men, I think about twelve, 
 and set fire to the barricado of the rebels in the 
 face of their whole army, wliilc they were pouring 
 in their shot, by which eight of tlie twelve that 
 attended hiui fell. This was the last action of the 
 kind in which he was engaged before the long 
 peace which ensued : and who can express how 
 happy it was for him, and indeed for his country, 
 of which he was ever so generous, and in his latter 
 years so important, a friend, that he <lid not fall 
 then, Mhen the profaneness which mingled itself 
 
 with his martial rage seemed to rend the heavens, 
 and shocked some other military gentlemen, who 
 were not themselves remarkable for their caution 
 in this respect ! 
 
 § 86. liut I insist not on things of this nature, 
 which the true greatness of his soul would hardly 
 ever i)crmit him to mention, unless when it tended 
 to illustrate the divine care over him in these ex- 
 tremities of danger, and the grace of tJod in calling 
 him from so abandoned a state. It is well known 
 that the character of an oHicer is not only to be ap- 
 proved in the day of combat. Colonel Gardiner 
 was truly sensible that every day brought its duties 
 along with it; and he Mas constantly careful, that 
 no pretence of amusement, friendship, or even de- 
 votion itself, might prevent their being discharged 
 in their season. 
 
 § 87. I doubt not but the noble persons in whose 
 regiment he was lieutenant-colonel, Avill always be 
 ready to bear an honourable and grateful testimony 
 to his exemplary diligence and fidelity, in all that 
 related to the care of the troops over which he was 
 set ; whether with regard to the men, or the horses. 
 He knew that it is incumbent on those who have 
 the honour of presiding over others, whether in civil, 
 ecclesiastical, or military offices, not to content 
 themselves with doing only so much as may preserve 
 them from the reproach of gross and visible neglect; 
 but seriously to consider, how much they can pos- 
 sibly do, without going out of the proper sphere, to 
 serve the public, by the due inspection of those 
 eonmiitted to their care. The duties of the closet, 
 and of the sanctuary, were so adjusted as not to 
 interfere with those of the parade, or any other place 
 where the welfare of the regiment called him. On 
 the other hand, he was solicitous not to sufi'er these 
 things to interfere with religion ; a due attendance 
 to which he apprehended to be the surest method of 
 attaining all desirable success in every other interest 
 and concern in life. He therefore abhorred every 
 thing that should look like a contrivance to keep 
 his soldiers employed about their horses and their 
 arras at the season of public worship : (an indecency 
 which I wish there were no room to mention) : far 
 from that, he used to have them drawn up just before 
 it began, and from the parade they went off to the 
 house of God. He understood the rights of con- 
 science too well to impose his own particular pro- 
 fession in religion on others, or to use those who 
 diflered from liim in the choice of its modes, the less 
 kindly or respectfully on that account. But, as 
 most of his own company, and many of the rest, 
 chose, when in England, to attend him to the dis- 
 senting chapel, he used to march them thither in due 
 time, so as to be there before the worship began. 
 And I must do them the justice to say, that so far 
 as I could ever discern, when I have seen them in 
 large numbers before me, they behaved with as 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 167 
 
 much reverence, gravity, and decorum, during tlie 
 time of divine service, as any of their fellow-wor- 
 shippers. 
 
 § 88. That his remarkable care to maintain good 
 discipline among them (of which we shall afterwards 
 speak) might be the more effectual, he made himself 
 on all proper occasions accessible to them, and 
 expressed a great concern for their interest ; which 
 being so genuine and sincere, naturally discovered 
 itself in a variety of instances. I remember, I had 
 once occasion to visit one of his dragoons, in his last 
 illness, at Harborough, and I found the man upon 
 the borders of eternity ; a circumstance which, as 
 he apprehended it himself, must add some peculiar 
 weight and credibility to his discourse. And he 
 then told me, in his colonel's absence, that he 
 questioned not but he should have everlasting reason 
 to bless God on Colonel Gardiner's account, for he 
 had been a father to him in all his interests, both 
 temporal and spiritual. He added, that he had 
 visited him almost every day during his illness, with 
 religious advice and instruction, as well as taken 
 care that he should want nothing that might conduce 
 to the recovery of his health. And he did not speak 
 of this as the result of any particular attachment to 
 him, but as the manner in which he was accustomed 
 to treat those under his command. It is no wonder 
 that this engaged their allection to a very great 
 degree. And I doubt not, that if he had fought the 
 fatal battle of Prestonpans at the head of that 
 gallant regiment, of which he had the care for so 
 many years, and which is allowed by most unex- 
 ceptionable judges to be one of the finest in the 
 British service, and consequently in the world, he 
 had been supported in a much diP'crent manner; and 
 had found a much greater number, who would have 
 rejoiced in an opportunity of making their own 
 breasts a barrier in the defence of his. 
 
 § 89. It could not but greatly endear him to his 
 soldiers, that so far as preferments lay in his power, 
 or were under his influence, they were distributed 
 according to merit; which Jie knew to be as niu<-li 
 the dictate of prudence, as of equity. I find by one 
 of his letters before me, dated but a few months 
 after his happy change, that he waS solicited to 
 improve his interest with the Earl of Stair, in favour 
 of one whom he judged a very worthy person ; and 
 that it had been suggested by another who recom- 
 mended him, that if he succeeded he might expect 
 some handsome acknowledgment. But he answers 
 with some degree of indignation, " Do you imagine I 
 am to be bribed to do justice ?" For such it seems 
 he esteemed it, to confer the favour which was asked 
 from him, on one so deserving. Nothing can more 
 effectually tend to humble the enemies of a state, 
 than that such maxims should universally prevail 
 in it : and if they do not prevail, the worthiest 
 men in an army or fleet may be sunk under re- 
 
 peated discouragements, and the basest exalted, 
 to the infamy of the public, and perhaps to its ruin. 
 
 § 90. In the midst of all the gentleness which 
 Colonel Gardiner exercised towards his soldiers, he 
 made it very apparent, that he knew how to recon- 
 cile the tenderness of a real, faithful, and con- 
 descending friend, with the authority of a com- 
 mander. Perhaps hardly any thing conduced more 
 generally to the maintaining of this authority, than 
 the strict decorum and good manners with which 
 he treated even the private gentlemen of liis regi- 
 ment; which has always a great elhcacy towards 
 keeping inferiors at a proper distance, and forbids, 
 in the least offensive manner, familiarities, which 
 degrade the superior, and enervate his influence. 
 The calmness and steadiness of his behaviour on all 
 occasions, did also greatly tend to the same pur- 
 pose. He knew how mean a man looks in the 
 transports of passion, and would not use so much 
 freedom with any of his men, as to fall into such 
 transports before them ; well knowing, that per- 
 sons in the lowest rank of life are aware, how unfit 
 they are to govern others who cannot govern them- 
 selves. He was also sensible, how necessary it is 
 in all who preside over others, and especially in 
 military officers, to check irregularities, when they 
 first begin to appear : and that he might be able to 
 do it, he kept a strict inspection over his soldiers ; 
 in which view it was observed, that as he generally 
 chose to reside among them as much as he could, 
 (though in circumstances which sometimes occa- 
 sioned him to deny himself in some interests which 
 were very dear to him,) so, when they were around 
 him, he seldom staid long in a place ; but was fre- 
 (juently walking the streets, and looking into their 
 quarters and stables, as well as reviewing and exer- 
 cising them himself. It has often been observed, that 
 the regiment of which he was so many years lieu- 
 tenant-colonel, was one of the most regular and order- 
 ly regiments in the public service ; so that perhaps 
 none of our dragoons were more welcome than they 
 to the towns where their character was known. 
 Yet no such bodies of men are so blameless in their 
 conduct, but something will be found, especially 
 among such considcraiilc numbers, worthy of cen- 
 sure, and sometimes of punishment. This Colonel 
 Gardiner knew how to inflict with a becoming reso- 
 lution, and with all the severity which he judged 
 necessary : a severity the more awful and impress- 
 ing, as it was always attended with meekness; for 
 he well knew, that when things are done in a pas- 
 sion, it seems only an accidental circumstance that 
 they are acts of justice, and that such indecencies 
 greatly obstruct the ends of punishment, both as it 
 relates to reforming oll'enders, and to deterring 
 others from an imitation of their faults. 
 
 §91. One instance of his conduct, which hap- 
 pened at Leicester, and was related by the person 
 
158 
 
 KEMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 I'liiolly conrorncd, to a worthy fViond from \\ lioiii 1 
 liad it, I I'oiinot lbrl)o:ir insertiii<y. \\ liilo part of 
 the rejjiincnt was encamped in the nciglibourhood 
 of that place, the Colonel went incognito to the 
 camp in tlie middle of tlie night ; for he sometimes 
 lodjred at his (piarters in tlie town. One of tlie een- 
 tinels then on duty had abandoned his post, and on 
 beinsj seized broke out into some oaths, and profane 
 execrations, against those that discovered him ; a 
 crime of whieii the Colonel had the ■ircatest nblior- 
 rence, and on which he never failed to animadvert. 
 The man afterwards appeared much ashamed and 
 concerned for what he had done. But the Colonel 
 ordered him to be broupfht early the next morninff 
 to his own cpiarters, where he had prepared a 
 piquet, on which he appointed him a private sort 
 of jienanee : and while he was put upon it, he 
 discoursed with him seriously and tenderly upon 
 the evils and aggravations of his fault; admonished 
 him of the divine displeasure, which he had in- 
 curred ; and urged him to argue from the pain 
 which he then felt, how infinitely more dreadful it 
 must be, to fall into the hands of the living God, 
 and indeed to meet the terrors of that damnation, 
 which he had been accustomed impiously to call 
 for on himself and his companions. The result of 
 this proceeding was, that the oflendcr accepted his 
 punishment, not only with submission, but with 
 thankfulness. He went away with a more cordial 
 affection for his colonel than ever he had before ; 
 and spoke of it some years after to my friend, in 
 such a manner, that there seemed reason to hope 
 it had been instrumental in producing, not only a 
 change in his life, but in his heart. 
 
 § 92. There cannot, I think, be a more proper 
 place for mentioning the great reverence this excel- 
 lent officer always expressed for the name of the 
 blessed God, and the zeal with which he endea- 
 voured to suppress, and, if possible, to extirpate, 
 that detestable sin of swearing and cursing, which 
 is every where so common, and especially among 
 our military men. He often declared his sentiments 
 with respect to this enormity, at the head of his 
 regiment ; and urged his captains and their subal- 
 terns, to take the greatest care that they did not 
 give the sanction of their example to that which by 
 their office they were obliged to punish in others. 
 And indeed this zeal on these occasions wrought in 
 a very active, and sometimes in a remarkably suc- 
 cessful, manner, not only among his equals, but 
 sometimes among his superiors too. An instance 
 of this in Flanders 1 shall have an opportunity 
 hereafter to produce ; at present I shall only men- 
 tion his conduct in Scotland a little before his death, 
 as I have it from a very valuable young minister of 
 that country, on whose testimony I can thoroughly 
 depend ; and I wish it may excite many to imita- 
 tion. 
 
 § 93. The commanding officer of the king's forces 
 then about Edinburgh, with the other colonels, and 
 several other gentlemen of rank in their respective 
 regiments, favoured him with their company at 
 Hankton, and took a dinner with him. He too well 
 foresaw what might happen amidst such a variety 
 of tempers and characters ; and fearing lest his 
 conscience should have been insnarcd by a sinful 
 silence, or tliat, on the other hand, he might seem to 
 ])ass the l)ounds of decency, and infringe upon the 
 laws of hosi)itality, by animadverting on guests so 
 justly entitled to his regard, he happily determined 
 on the following method of avoiding each of these 
 difficulties. As soon as they were come together, 
 he addressed them with a great deal of respect, and 
 yet at the same time, with a very frank and deter- 
 mined air; and told them, that he had the honour 
 in that district to be a justice of the peace, and con- 
 sc(|ucntly that he was sworn to put the laws in exe- 
 cution, and among the rest those against swearing; 
 that he could not execute them upon others with any 
 confidence, or by any means approve himself as a 
 man of impartiality and integrity to his own heart, 
 if he suffered them to be broken in his presence by 
 persons of any rank whatsoever; and that therefore 
 he entreated all the gentlemen who tlien honoured 
 him with their company, that they would please to 
 be upon their guard ; and that if any oath or curse 
 should escape them, he hoped they would consider 
 his legal animadversions upon it as a regard to the 
 duties of his office, and the dictates of his conscience, 
 and not as owing to any want of deference to them. 
 The commanding officer immediately supported him 
 in this declaration, as entirely becoming the station 
 in wliich he was, assuring him tliat he would be 
 ready to pay the penalty, if he inadvertently trans- 
 gressed ; and when Colonel Gardiner on any occa- 
 sion stepped out of the room, he himself undertook 
 to be the guardian of the law in his absence ; and 
 as one of the inferior officers ofl'ended during this 
 time, he informed the Colonel, so that the fine was 
 exacted, and given to IJ-ie poor,* with the universal 
 approbation of the company. The story spread in 
 the neighbourhood, and was perhaps applauded 
 highly by many who wanted the courage to go and 
 do likewise. But it may be said of the worthy per- 
 son of whom I write, with the utmost propriety, 
 that he feared the face of no man living where the 
 honour of God was concerned. In all such eases 
 he might be justly said, in Scripture plirase, to set 
 his face like a flint ; and I assuredly believe, that 
 had he been in the presence of a sovereign prince, 
 who had been guilty of this fault, his looks at least 
 would have testified his grief and surprise ; if he 
 
 * It is observable, that the money wliich was forfeited on this ac- 
 count by bis own oliiccrs, whom he never spared, or by any otln rs of 
 liis soldiers, who ratlier cliose to pay than to submit to corporal pniiisli . 
 nient, was by tlie Colonel's order laid by in a bank, till some of the 
 private iiHMi fell sick ; and then it was laid out in providing them with 
 proper help and accommodations in their distress. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 159 
 
 had apprehended it unfit to have borne his testi- 
 mony any otlier w ay. 
 
 § 94. Lord Cadogan's regiment of dragoons, dur- 
 ing the 3ears I have mentioned, while he was 
 lieutenant-colonel of it, was quartered in a great 
 variety of places, both in England and Scotland, 
 from many of which I have letters before me : par- 
 ticularly from Hamilton, Ayr, Carlisle, Hereford, 
 Maidenhead, Leicester, Warwick, Coventry, Stam- 
 ford, Harborough, Northampton, and several other 
 places, especially in our inland parts. The natural 
 consequence was, that the Colonel, whose charac- 
 ter was on many accounts so very remarkable, had 
 a very extensive acquaintance : and I believe I 
 may certainly say, that wherever he was known by 
 persons of wisdom and worth, he was proportion- 
 ably respected, and left behind him traces of unaf- 
 fected devotion, humility, benevolence, and zeal, 
 for the support and advancement of religion and 
 virtue. 
 
 § 95. The equable tenor of his mind in these re- 
 spects, is illustrated by his letters from several of 
 these places ; and though it is but comparatively a 
 small number of them which I have now in niy 
 bands, yet they will afford some valuable extracts ; 
 which I shall therefore here lay before my reader, 
 that he may the better judge as to his real charac- 
 ter, in particulars of which I have already discours- 
 ed, or which may hereafter occur. 
 
 § 96. In a letter to his lady, dated from Carlisle, 
 Nov. 19, 1733, when he was on his journey to 
 Herefordshire, he breathes out his grateful, cheerful 
 soul in these words : " I bless God, I was never 
 better in my life-time ; and I wish I could be so 
 happy as to hear the same of you ; or ratlier, in 
 other words, to hear that you had obtained an en- 
 tire trust in God : that would infallibly keep you in 
 perfect peace ; for the God of truth hath promised 
 it. Oh, how ought we to be longing to be with 
 Christ, w hich is infinitely better than any thing we 
 can propose here ! To be there, where all com- 
 plaints shall be for ever banished ; where no moun- 
 tains shall separate between God and our souls : 
 and I hope, it will be some addition to our happi- 
 ness, that you and I shall be separated no more ; 
 but that as we have joined in singing the praises of 
 our glorious Redeemer here, we shall sing them in 
 a much higher key through an endless eternity. 
 Oh eternity, eternity ! Whit a wonderful thought 
 is eternity !" 
 
 §97. From Leicester, August 6, 17.39, he writes 
 thus to his lady : " Yesterday I was at tlie Lord's 
 table, where you and the children were not forgot- 
 ten : but how wonderfully was I assisted when I 
 came home, to plead for you all with many tears !" 
 And then, speaking of some intimate friends, who 
 were impatient (as I suppose by the connexion) for 
 his return to them,- he takes occasion to observe the 
 
 necessity " of endeavouring to compose our minds, 
 and to say with the Psalmist, My soul, wait thou 
 only upon God." Afterwards, speaking of one of 
 his children, of whom he lieard that he made a com- 
 mendable progress in learning, he expresses his 
 satisfaction in it, and adds, " But how much greater 
 joy would it give me, to hear that he was greatly 
 advanced in the school of Christ ! Oh that our chil- 
 dren may but be wise to salvation ; and may grow 
 in grace as they do in stature !" 
 
 § 98. These letters, which to so familiar a friend 
 evidently lay open the heart, and show the ideas 
 and affections which were lodged deepest there, are 
 sometimes taken up with an account of sermons he 
 had attended, and the impressions they had made 
 upon bis mind. I shall mention one only as a 
 specimen of many more, which was dated from a 
 place called Cohorn, April 15 : " We had here a 
 minister from Wales, who gave us two excellent 
 discourses on the love of Christ to us, as an argu- 
 ment to engage our love to him. And indeed, next 
 to the greatness of his love to us, methinks there is 
 nothing so astonishing as the coldness of our love 
 to him. Oh that he would shed abroad his love 
 upon our hearts by his Holy Spirit, that ours might 
 be kindled into a flame ! May God enable you to 
 trust in him, and then you will be kept in perfect 
 peace !" 
 
 § 99. We have met with many traces of that 
 habitual gratitude to the blessed God, as his 
 heavenly Father and constant friend, which made 
 his life probably one of the happiest that ever was 
 spent on earth. I cannot omit one more, which 
 appears to me the more worthy of notice, as being 
 a short turn in as hasty a letter as any I remember 
 to have seen of his, which he wrote from Leicester, 
 in June 1739. " I am now under the deepest sense 
 of the many favours the Almighty has bestowed 
 upon mc : surely you will help me to celebrate the 
 praises of our gracious God and kind Benefactor." 
 This exuberance of grateful all'ccrtion, which, while 
 it was almost every hour pouring itself fortli before 
 God in the most genuine and eniphatical language, 
 felt itself still, as it were, straitened for want of a 
 sullicient vent, and therefore called on otliers to 
 help him with tiieir concurrent praises, appears to 
 mc the most glorious and happy state in which a 
 human soul can find itself on this side heaven. 
 
 § 100. Such was the teniper which this excellent 
 man appears to have carried along with him through 
 such a variety of places and circumstances ; and 
 the w hole of his deportment was suitable to these 
 impressions. Strangers were agreeably struck with 
 his first appearance, there was so much of the 
 Christian, the well-bred man, and the universal 
 friend in it ; and as they came more intimately to 
 know him, they discovered more and more the uni- 
 formity and consistency of his whole temper an<l 
 
160 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 bi'liavioiir : so tliaf, whether he made only a Aisit 
 lor a low (lays to any place, or eontiniied there for 
 many weeks or luonlbs, be was always beloved anil 
 esteemed, and spoken of with that honourable tes- 
 timony from persons of the most dilferent denomi- 
 iiatioiis and parties, whieli nothing but true sterliu};- 
 worth, (if 1 nuiy be allowed tiie expression,) and 
 that in an eminent degree, can secure. 
 
 § 101. Of the justice of this testimony, which 1 
 had so often heard from a variety of jjcrsons, I 
 myself began to be a witness about the time when 
 the last-mentioned letter was dated. In this view 
 I believe I shall never forget tliat happy day, June 
 13, 173t>, when I first met him at Leicester. I re- 
 mend)er, I liappcncd that day to preach a lecture 
 from Psalm cxix. 158.— I beheld the transgressors, 
 and was grieved, because they kept not thy law. 
 I was large in describing that mixture of indigna- 
 tion and grief (strongly expressed by the original 
 word there) with which the good man looks on the 
 daring transgressors of the divine law ; and in 
 tracing the causes of that grief, as arising from a 
 regard to the divine honour, and the interest of a 
 Redeemer, and a compassionate concern for the 
 misery such offenders bring on themselves, and for 
 the mischief they do to the world about them. I 
 little thought how exactly 1 was drawi.ig Colonel 
 Gardiner's character under each of those heads ; 
 and I have often reflected upon it as a happy Pro- 
 vidence, which opened a much speedier way than 
 I could have expected, to the breast of one of the 
 most amiable and useful friends which I ever 
 expect to find upon earth. We afterwards sung a 
 hymn, which brought over again some of the lead- 
 ing thoughts in the sermon, and struck him so 
 strongly, that, on obtaining a copy of it, he com- 
 mitted it to his memory, and used to repeat it with 
 so forcible an accent, as showed how much every 
 line expressed of his very soul. In this view the 
 reader w ill pardon my inserting it ; especially, as 
 I know not when I may get time to publish a volume 
 of these serious, though artless, composures, which 
 I sent him in manuscript some years ago, and to 
 which I have since made very large additions. 
 
 I. 
 
 Arise, my tenderest thoughts, arise. 
 To torrents melt my streaming eyes ; 
 And thou, my heart, with anguish feel 
 Those evils which thou canst not heal. 
 II. 
 
 See human nature sunk in shame ! 
 See scandals poured on Jesu's name ! 
 The Father wounded through the Son, 
 The world abused, the soul undone. 
 
 in. 
 
 See the short course of vain delight 
 Closing in everlasting night ! 
 
 In flames, that no abatement know, 
 The briny tears for ever flow. 
 
 IV. 
 
 My God, I feel the n.ournful scene ; 
 My bowels yearn o'er dying men : 
 And fain my pity would reclaim. 
 And snatch tiie lire-brands from the flame. 
 V. 
 
 But feeble my compassion proves, 
 And can but weep, where most it loves. 
 Thine own all-saving arm employ, 
 And turn these drops of grief to joy ! 
 
 § 102. The Colonel, immediately after the con- 
 clusion of the service, met me in the vestry, and 
 embraced me in the most obliging and allectionale 
 manner, as if there had been a long friendship be- 
 tween us ; assured me, that he had for some years 
 been intimately acquainted w ith my writings ; and 
 desired that we might concert measures for spend- 
 ing some hours together before I left the town. I 
 was so happy as to be able to secure an opportunity 
 of doing it; and I must leave it upon record, that 
 I cannot recollect I was ever equally edified by any 
 conversation I remember to have enjoyed. We 
 passed that evening and the next morning together ; 
 and it is impossible for me to describe the impres- 
 sion which the interview left upon my heart. I rode 
 alone all the remainder of the day ; and it was my 
 unspeakable happiness that I was alone, since I 
 could be no longer with him ; for I can hardly con- 
 ceive what other company would not then have 
 been an encumbrance. The views which he gave 
 me even then, (for he began to repose a most oblig- 
 ing confidence in me, though he concealed some of 
 the most extraordinary circumstances of the methods 
 by which he had been recovered to God and hap- 
 piness,) with those cordial sentiments of evangeli- 
 cal piety and extensive goodness, which he poured 
 out into my bosom with so endearing a freedom, 
 fired my very soul ; and I hope I may truly say, 
 (what I wish and pray many of my readers may 
 also adopt for themselves,) that I glorified God in 
 him. Our epistolary correspondence immediately 
 commenced upon my return ; and though, through 
 the multiplicity of business on both sides, it suf- 
 fered many interruptions, it was in some degree the 
 blessing of all the following years of my life, till 
 he fell by those unreasonable and wicked men, who 
 had it in their hearts with him to have destroyed all 
 our glory, defence, and happiness. 
 
 ^ 103. The first letter I received from him was so 
 remarkable, that some persons of eminent piety, to 
 whom I communicated it, would not be content 
 without copying it out, or making some extracts 
 from it. I persuade myself, that my devout reader 
 will not be displeased that I insert the greatest part 
 of it here ; especially, as it serves to illustrate the 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 161 
 
 affectionate sense which he had of the divine good- 
 ness in his conversion, though more than twenty 
 years had passed since that memorable event hap- 
 pened. Having mentioned my ever dear and 
 honoured friend, Dr. Isaac Watts, on an occasion 
 which I hinted at above, (§ 70.) he adds, " I have 
 been in pain these several years, lest that excellent 
 person, that sweet singer in our Israel, should have 
 been called to heaven, before I had an opportunity 
 of letting him know, how much his works have been 
 blessed to me, and of course, of returning him my 
 hearty thanks : for though it is owing to the opera- 
 tion of the blessed Spirit, that any thing works 
 effectually upon our hearts, yet if we are not thank- 
 ful to the instrument which God is pleased to make 
 use of, whom we do see, how shall we be thankful 
 to the Almighty, whom we have not seen ? I desire 
 to bless God for the good news of his recover}', and 
 entreat you to tell him, that although I cannot keep 
 pace with him here, in celebrating the high praises 
 of our glorious Redeemer, which is the greatest 
 grief of my heart ; yet I am persuaded, that when I 
 join the glorious company above, where there will 
 be no drawbacks, none will oat-sing me there ; 
 because I shall not find any that will be more in- 
 debted to the Yvonderfal riches of divine grace 
 than I. 
 
 ' Give mc a place at Uiy saints' feet, 
 Or some fall'n angel's vacant seat ; 
 I'll strive to sing as loud as they, 
 AViiosit abo^'e in brighter day.* 
 
 I know, it is natural for every one who has felt the 
 Almighty power which raised our glorious Re- 
 deemer from the grave, to believe his case singu- 
 lar ; but I have made every one in this respect sub- 
 mit, as soon as he has heard my storj'. And if you 
 seemed so surprised at the account which I gave 
 you, what will you be when you hear it all ? 
 
 ' Oh in had aii an^jel's voice. 
 And could be heard from pole to pole; 
 I would to all the list'ning world 
 Proclaim tliy goodness to ntiy soul.' 
 
 He then concludes, after some expressions of en- 
 dearment, (which, with whatever pleasure I review 
 them, I must not here insert,) " If you knew what 
 a natural aversion I have to writing, you would be 
 astonished at the length of this letter, which is I be- 
 lieve the longest I ever wrote. But my heart warms 
 when I write to you, which makes my pen move the 
 easier. I hope it will please our gracious God long 
 to preserve you a blc.s.scd in.strument in his hand of 
 doing great good in the church of Christ ; and that 
 you may always enjoy a thriving soul in a health- 
 ful body, shall be the continual prayer of," 8cc. 
 
 § 104. As our intimacy grew, our mutual affec- 
 tion increased, and " My dearest friend," was the 
 form of address with which most of his epistles of 
 the last years wore begun and ended. Many of 
 
 M 
 
 them are filled up with his sentiments of those 
 writings which I published during these years, 
 which he read with great attention, and of which he 
 speaks in terms which it becomes me to suppress, 
 and to impute in a considerable degree to the kind 
 prejudices of so endeared a friendship. He gives 
 me repeated assurances, " that he was daily mind- 
 ful of me in his prayers ;" a circumstance which I 
 cannot recollect without the greatest thankfulness ; 
 the loss of which I should more deeply lament, did 
 I not hope, that the happy effect of these prayers 
 might still continue, and might run into all my re- 
 maining days. 
 
 § 105. It might be a pleasure to me to make seve- 
 ral extracts from many others of his letters ; but it 
 is a pleasure which I ought to suppress, and rather 
 to reflect with unfeigned humility, how unworthy I 
 was of such regards from such a person, and of that 
 divine goodness which gave me such a friend in 
 him. I shall therefore only add two general re- 
 marks, which offer themselves from several of his 
 letters. The one is, that there is in some of them, 
 as our freedom increased, an agreeable vein of hu- 
 mour and pleasantry ; which shows how easy re- 
 ligion sat upon him, and how far he was from 
 placing any part of it in a gloomy melancholy, or 
 stiff formality. The other is, that he frequently re- 
 fers to domestic circumstances, such as the illness 
 or recovery of his children, &c. v\ hich I am sur- 
 prised how a man of his extensive and important 
 business could so distinctly bear upon his mind. 
 But his memory was good, and his heart was yet bet- 
 ter ; and his friendship was such, that nothing 
 which sensibly affected the heart of one whom he 
 honoured with it, left his own but slightly touched. 
 I have all imaginable reason to believe, that in 
 many instances his prayers were not only offered 
 for us in general terms, but varied asotir particular 
 situation required. Many quotations might verify 
 this: but I decline troubling the reader with an 
 enumeration of passages, in which it was only the 
 abundance of friendly sympathy that gave this truly 
 great as veil as good man so cordial a concern. 
 
 § 106. After this correspondence, carried on for 
 the space of about three years, and some interviews 
 which we liad enjoyed at diHercnt places, he came 
 to spend some time witli us at Northampton, and 
 brought with him his lady and )iis two eldest cliil- 
 dren. I had here an opportunity of taking a much 
 nearer view of his character, and surveying it in a 
 much greater variety of lights than before ; and 
 my esteem for him increased, in proportion to the.se 
 opportunities. What I have wrote above, with 
 respect to his conduct in relative life, «as in a 
 great measure drawn from what 1 now saw ; and I 
 shall mention here some other points in his !)c- 
 haviour, which particularly struck my mind ; and 
 likewise shall touch on his sentiments on some 
 
102 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 topics of iniportance, >\lii( h lie freely coiniminicatcd 
 to me, and >\ liieh I reiiiaiked oa account of that 
 wisdom and propriety which I apprehended in 
 them. 
 
 § 11)7. There was nothing more openly observable 
 in Colonel Gardiner, than the exemplary g^ravity, 
 composure, and reverence, willi which he attended 
 public worship. Copious as he was in his secret 
 devotions before he enicagcd in it, be always began 
 tliem so early, as not to be retarded by them, when 
 he should resort to the house of God. He, and all 
 his soldiers who chose to worship with bim, were 
 generally there (as I have already hinted) before 
 the service began ; tliat the entrance of so many of 
 them at once might not disturb the congregation 
 already engaged in devotion, and that there might 
 be the better opportunity for bringing the mind to 
 a becoming attention, and preparing it for converse 
 witii the divine Being. While acts of vvorsliip 
 were going on, whether of prayer or singing, he 
 always stood up ; and whatever regard he might 
 have for persons who passed by him at that time, 
 though it were to come into the same pew, he never 
 paid any compliment to them : and often has he 
 expressed his wonder, at the indecorum of breaking 
 off our address to God to bow to a fellow-creature ; 
 which he thought a much greater indecency, than it 
 would be, on a little occasion and circumstance, to 
 interrupt an address to our prince. During the 
 time of preaching, his eye was commonly fixed 
 upon the minister, though sometimes turned round 
 upon the auditory, where if he observed any to 
 tiiflc, it filled him with just indignation. And I have 
 known instances, in which, upon making the re- 
 mark, he has communicated it to some friend of the 
 persons who were guilty of it, that proper applica- 
 tion might be made to prevent it for the time to come. 
 
 § 108. A more devout communicant at the table 
 of the Lord has perhaps seldom been any where 
 known. Often have I had the pleasure to see that 
 maiily countenance softened to all the marks of 
 humiliation and contrition on this occasion ; and to 
 discern, in spite of all his efforts to conceal them, 
 streams of tears flowing down from his eyes, while 
 he has been directing them to those memorials of 
 his Redeemer's love. And some, who have con- 
 versed intimately with him after he came from that 
 ordinance, have observed a visible abstraction from 
 surrounding objects ; by which there seemed reason 
 to imagine, that his soul was wrapped up in holy 
 contemplation. And I particularly remember, that 
 when we had once spent great part of the following 
 Monday in riding together, he made an apology to 
 me for being so absent as he seemed, by telling me, 
 that his heart was llown upwards, before he was 
 aware, to him whom not having seen he loved ;* 
 
 * N. B. This alliuled to llio suliject of the Sermon the day before, 
 which was 1 I'eter i. 8. 
 
 and that he was rejoicing in him witli such un- 
 speakable joy, that he eould not hold it down to 
 creature-converse. 
 
 § 109. In all the odices of friendship he was re- 
 markably ready, and had a most sweet and en- 
 gaging manner of performing them, which greatly 
 heightened the obligations he conferred. He seemed 
 not to set any liigh value upon any benclit he be- 
 stowed ; but did it without the least parade, as a 
 thing which in those circumstances came of course, 
 where he had professed love and respect ; which he 
 was not over-forward to do, though he treated 
 strangers, and those who were most his inferiors, 
 very courteously, and always .seemed, because he in 
 truth always was, glad of any opportunity of doing 
 them good. 
 
 § 110. He was particularly zealous in vindicating 
 the reputation of his friends in their absent;e : and 
 tliough I cannot recollect that 1 had ever an oppor- 
 tunity of observing this inunediately, as I do not 
 know that I ever was present with him when any 
 ill was spoken of others at all ; yet by what I have 
 heard him say, with relation to attempts to injure 
 the character of worthy and useful men, I have 
 reason to believe, that no man living was more 
 sensible of the baseness and infamy, as well as the 
 cruelty, of such a conduct. He knew and despised, 
 the low principles of resentment for unreasonable 
 expectations disappointed, of personal attachment 
 to men of some crossing interests, of envy, and of 
 party zeal, from whence such a conduct often pro- 
 ceeds ; and was particulaiJy offended, when he 
 found it (as he frequently did) in persons that set 
 up for the greatest patrons of liberty, virtue, and 
 candour. He looked upon the murderers of reputa- 
 tion and usefulness, as some of the vilest pests of 
 society ; and plainly showed, on every proper oc- 
 casion, that he thought it tlie part of a generous, 
 benevolent, and courageous man, to exert himself 
 in tracing and hunting down the slander, that the 
 authors or abettors of it might be less capable of 
 doing mischief for the future. 
 
 § 111. The most plausible objection that I ever 
 heard to Colonel Gardiner's character is, that he 
 was too much attached to some religious principles, 
 established indeed in the churches both of England 
 and Scotland, but which have of late years been 
 much disputed, and from which, it is at least gene- 
 rally supposed, not a few in both have thought 
 proper to depart ; whatever expedients they may 
 have found to quiet their consciences, in subscrib- 
 ing those formularies in which they are plainly 
 taught. His zeal was especially apparent in op- 
 position to those doctrines which seemed to derogate 
 from the divine honours of the Son and Spirit of 
 God, and from the freedom of divine grace, or the 
 reality and necessity of its operations in the eon- 
 version and salvation of sinners. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 163 
 
 § 112. With relation to these I must observe, that 
 it was his most stedfast persuasion, that all tliose 
 notions which represent our blessed Redeemer and 
 the Holy Spirit as mere creatures, or wliicli set aside 
 the atonement of the former, or the influences of the 
 latter, do sap the very foundation of Christianity, 
 by rejecting the most glorious doctrines peculiar to 
 it. He had attentively observed (what indeed is 
 too obvious) the unhappy influence which the denial 
 of these principles often has on the character of 
 ministers, and on their success ; and was persaad- 
 ed, that an attempt to substitute that mutilated 
 form of Christianity which remains, when these 
 essentials of it are taken away, has proved one of 
 the most successful methods which the great enemy 
 of souls has ever taken in these latter days, to lead 
 men by insensible degrees into deism, vice, and 
 perdition. He also sagaciously observed the artful 
 manner in which obnoxious tenets are often main- 
 tained or insinuated, with all that mixture of zeal 
 and address with which they are propagated in the 
 world, even by those who had most solemnly pro- 
 fessed to believe, and engaged to teach, the con- 
 trary ; and, as he really apprehended that the glory 
 of God and the salvation of souls was concerned, 
 his piety and charity made him eager and strenuous 
 in opposing what he judged to be errors of so per- 
 nicious a nature. Yet I must declare, that, accord- 
 ing to what I have known of him, (and I believe he 
 opened his heart on these topics to me with as 
 much freedom as to any man living,) he was not 
 ready upon light suspicions to charge tenets which 
 he thought so pernicious on any, especially where 
 he saw the appearances of a good temper and life, 
 which he always reverenced and loved in persons 
 of all sentiments and professions. He severely 
 condemned causeless jealousies, and evil surmisings 
 of every kind ; and extended that charity in this 
 respect, both to clergy and laity, which good Bishop 
 Burnet was so ready, according to his own account, 
 to limit the latter, " of believing every man good 
 till he knew Jiini to be bad, and his notions right 
 till he knew them wrong." He could not but be 
 very sensible of the unhappy consequences which 
 may follow on attacking the characters of men, 
 especially of those who are ministers of the gospel : 
 and if, through a mixture of human frailty, from 
 which the best of men in the best of tlieir meanings 
 and intentions are not entirely free, he has ever, in 
 the warmth of his heart, dropped a word which 
 might be injurious to any on that account, (which 
 I believe very seldom happened,) he would gladly 
 retract it on better information ; which was per- 
 fectly agreeable to that honest and generous frank- 
 ness of temper, in which I never knew any man who 
 exceeded him. 
 
 § 113. On the whole, it was indeed his deliberate 
 judgment that the Arian, Socinian, and Pelagian 
 M 2 
 
 doctrines were highly dishonourable to God, and 
 dangerous to the souls of men ; and that it was the 
 duty of private Christians to be greatly on their 
 guard against those ministers by whom they are 
 entertained, lest their minds should be corrupted 
 from the simplicity that is in Christ. Yet he sin- 
 cerely abhorred the thought of persecution for con- 
 science' sake ; of the absurdity and iniquity of 
 which, in all its kinds and degrees, he had as deep 
 and rational a conviction as any man I could name. 
 And indeed the generosity of his heroic heart could 
 hardly bear to think that those glorious truths, 
 which he so cordially loved, and which he assuredly 
 believed to be capable of such fair support, both 
 from reason and the word of God, should be dis- 
 graced by methods of defence and propagation, 
 common to the most impious and ridiculous false- 
 hoods. Nor did he by any means approve of pas- 
 sionate and furious ways of vindicating the most 
 vital and important doctrines of the gospel ; for he 
 knew, that to maintain the most benevolent reli- 
 gion in the world, by such malevolent and infernal 
 methods, was destroying the end to accomplish the 
 means ; and that it was as impossible that true 
 Christianity should be supported thus, as it is that a 
 man should long be nourished by eating his own 
 flesh. To display the genuine fruits of Christianity 
 in a good life, to be ready to plead w ith meekness 
 and sweetness for the doctrines it teaches, and to 
 labour by every office of humanity and goodness to 
 gain upon them that oppose it, were the weapons 
 with which this good soldier of Jesus Christ faith- 
 fully fought the battles of the Lord. These wea- 
 pons will always be victorious in his cause ; and 
 they who have recourse to others of a different tem- 
 perature, how strong soever they may seem, and 
 how sharp soever they may really be, will find they 
 break in their hands when they exert them most 
 furiously, and are much more likely to wound 
 themselves, than to conquer the enemies they op- 
 pose. 
 
 § 114. But while I am speaking of Colonel Gar- 
 diner's charity in this respect, I must not omit that 
 of another kind, which has indeed engrossed the 
 name of charity much more than it ought, excellent 
 as it is ; I mean almsgiving, for which he was very 
 remarkable. I have often wondered how he was able 
 to do so many generous things this way : but his 
 frugality fed the spring. He made no pleasurable 
 expense on himself, and was contented with a very 
 decent appearance in his family, without affecting 
 such an air of grandeur as could not have been 
 supported without sacrificing to it satisfactions far 
 nobler, and, to a temper like his, far more delight- 
 ful. The lively and tender feelings of his heart in 
 favour of the distressed and alllicfed, made it a 
 self-indulgence to him to relieve Ihcm ; and the 
 deep conviction he had of the vain and transitory 
 
1«4 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 nature of the onjovmonts of this world, toRotlier 
 with the suhlimc view lie had of anotlicr, ensaRcd 
 him to dispense his bounties with a very liberal 
 hand, and even to seek out proper objects of llieni ; 
 and, above all, his sincere and ardent love to the 
 Lord .lesus Christ cn<!:af!;ed him to feel, with a true 
 sympathy, the eonecrns of his poor members. In 
 consecjuence of this, he honoured several of his 
 friends with eommissions for the relief of the poor ; 
 and particularly with relation to some under niy 
 pastoral care, he referred it to my discretion to 
 supply them with what I should jud{?c expedient, 
 and frequently pressed me in his letters to be sure 
 not to let them want. And where persons standina; 
 in need of his charity happened, as they often did, 
 to be persons of remarkably religious dispositions, 
 it was easy to perceive that he not only loved but 
 honoured them ; and really esteemed it an honour 
 which Providence conferred upon him, tliat he 
 should be made, as it were, tlic almoner of God for 
 the relief of such. 
 
 § 1 15. I cannot forbear relating a little story here, 
 which, when the Colonel himself heard it, gave him 
 sucli exquisite pleasure, that I hope it will be 
 acceptable to several of my readers. There was in 
 a village about three miles from Northampton, and 
 in a family which of all others near me was after- 
 wards most indebted to him, (though he had never 
 then seen any member of it,) an aged and poor, but 
 eminently good, woman, who had, with great diffi- 
 culty, in the exercise of much faith and patience, 
 diligence atid humility, made shift to educate a 
 large family of children, after the death of her 
 husband, without being chargeable to the parish ; 
 which, as it was quite beyond her hope, she often 
 spoke of with great delight. At length, when worn 
 out w ith age and infirmities, she lay upon her dying 
 bed, she did in a most lively and afl'ecting manner 
 express her hope and joy in the views of approach- 
 ing gJory. Yet, amidst all the triumph of such a 
 prospect, there was one remaining care and distress 
 which lay heavy on her mind ; which was, that, as 
 her journey and her stock of provisions were both 
 ended together, she feared that she must either be 
 buried at the parish expense, or leave her most 
 dutiful and affectionate daughters the house stripped 
 of some of the few movables which remained in it, 
 to perform the last office of duty to her, which she 
 had reason to believe they would do. While she 
 was combating with this only remaining anxiety, I 
 happened, though I knew not the extremity of her 
 illness, to come in, and to bring with me a guinea, 
 which the generous Colonel had sent by a special 
 message, on hearing tlie character of the family, for 
 its relief. A present like this (probably the most 
 considerable they had ever received in iheir lives) 
 coming in thi.s manner from an entire stranger, at 
 such a crisis of time, threw my dying friend (for 
 
 such, amidst all lu r poverty, I rejoiced to call her) 
 into a perfect transport of joy. She esteemed it a 
 singular favour of Providence, sent to her in her 
 last moments as a token of good, and greeted it as 
 a special mark of that loving-kindness of God, which 
 should attend her for ever. She would tliciel'ore be 
 raised up in her bed, that she might bless (Jod for 
 it upon her knees, and with her last breath pray for 
 her kind and generous benefactor, and for him who 
 had been tlie instrument of directing his bounty into 
 this channel. After which she soon expired, with 
 such tranquillity and sweetness as could not but 
 most sensibly delight all who beheld her, and 
 occasioned many, who knew the circumstances, to 
 glorify God on lier behalf. 
 
 § 1 IG. The Colonel's last residence at Northamp- 
 ton was in June and July, 1742, when Lord 
 Cadogan's regiment of dragoons was quartered liere : 
 and I cannot but observe, that wherever that regi- 
 ment came, it was remarkable, not only for the fine 
 appearance it made, and for the exactness with 
 which it performed its various exercises, (of which 
 it had about this time the honour to receive the most 
 illustrious testimonials,) but also for the great 
 sobriety and regularity of the soldiers. Many of the 
 officers copied also the excellent pattern wliicli they 
 had daily before their eyes ; and a considerable 
 number of the private men seemed to be persons, 
 not only of strict virtue, but of serious piety. And 
 I doubt not, but they found their abundant account 
 in it; not only in the serenity and happiness of their 
 own minds, which is beyond comparison the most 
 important consideration ; but also, in some degree, 
 in the obliging and respectful treatment which they 
 generally met with in their quarters. And I men- 
 tion this, because I am persuaded, that if gentlemen 
 of their profession knew, and would reflect, how 
 mucli more comfortable they make their own quar- 
 ters by a sober, orderly, and obliging conduct, they 
 would be regular out of mere self-love ; if they were 
 not inilacneed, as I heartily wish they may always 
 be, by a nobler principle. 
 
 § 117. Towards the latter end of this year he em- 
 barked for Flanders, and spent some considerable 
 time with the regiment at Ghent ; where he much 
 regretted the want of those religious ordinances and 
 opportunities whicli had made his other abodes dc- 
 ligiitful. But, as he had made so eminent a progress 
 in that divine life which they are all intended to 
 promote, he could not be inactive in the cause of 
 God. I have now before me a letter dated from 
 thence, October 16, 1742, in which he writes, " As 
 for me, I am indeed in a dry and barren land, w here 
 no water is. Rivers of waters run down mine eyes 
 because nothing is to be heard in our Sodom but 
 blaspheming the name of my God ; and I am not 
 honoured as the instrument of doing any great ser- 
 vice. It is true, I have reformed six or seven field- 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 165 
 
 officers of swearing. I dine every day with them, 
 and have entered them into a voluntary contract to 
 pay a shilling to the poor for every oath : and it is 
 wonderful to observe the efiect it has had already. 
 One of them told me this day at dinner, that it had 
 really such an influence upon him, that, being- at 
 cards last night when another officer fell a swearing, 
 he was not able to bear it, but rose up and left the 
 company. So, you see, restraints at first arising 
 from a low principle may improve into something 
 better." 
 
 § 118. During his abode here he had a great deal 
 of business upon his hands ; and had also, in some 
 marches, the care of more regiments than his own : 
 and it has been very delightful to me to observe 
 what a degree of converse with heaven, and the 
 God of it, he maintained amidst these scenes of 
 hurry and fatigue ; of which the reader may find a 
 remarkable specimen in the following letter, dated 
 from Lichwick, in the beginning of April, 1743, 
 which was one of the last I received from him 
 while abroad, and begins with these words : " Yes- 
 terday being the Lord's day, at six in the morning, 
 I had the pleasure of receiving yours at Nortonick ; 
 and it proved a sabbath-day's blessing to me. Some 
 time before it reached me" (from whence by the 
 way it may be observed, that his former custom of 
 rising so early to his devotions was still retained) 
 " I had been v. restling with God with many tears ; 
 and when I had read it, I returned to my knees 
 again, to give hearty thanks to him for all his good- 
 ness to you and yours, and also to myself, in that 
 he hath been pleased to stir up so many who are 
 dear to him, to be mindful of me at the throne of 
 grace." And then, after the mention of some other 
 particulars, he adds, " Blessed and adored for ever 
 be the holy name of my heavenly Father, who holds 
 my soul in life, and my body in perfect health ! 
 Were I to recount his mercy and goodness to me 
 even in the midst of all these hurries, I should never 
 have done. — I hope your Master w ill still encourage 
 you in his work, and make you a blessing to many. 
 My dearest friend, I am much more yours than I 
 can express, and shall remain so while I am J. G." 
 
 ^ 119. In this correspondence I had a further op- 
 portunity of discovering that humble resignation to 
 the will of God, which made so amiable a part of 
 his character, and of which before I had seen so 
 many instances. He speaks, in the letter from 
 which I have just been giving an extract, of the hope 
 he had expressed in a former, of seeing us again 
 that winter ; and he adds, " To be sure, it would 
 have been a great pleasure to me : but we poor 
 mortals form projects, and the Almighty Ruler of 
 the universe disposes of all as he pleases. A great 
 many of us were getting ready for our return to 
 England, when wc received an order to marcli to- 
 wards Frankfort, to the great surprise of the whole 
 
 army, neither can any of uS comprehend what wc 
 are to do there ; for there is no enemy in that coun- 
 try, the French army being marched into Bavaria, 
 where I am sure we cannot follow them. But it is 
 the will of the Lord ; and his will be done ! I de- 
 sire to bless and praise my heavenly Father, that I 
 am entirely resigned to it. It is no matter where 
 I go, or what becomes of me, so that God may be 
 glorified, in my life, or my death. I should rejoice 
 much to hear that all my friends were equally re- 
 signed." 
 
 § 120. The mention of this article reminds me of 
 another, relating to the views which he had of ob- 
 taining a regiment for himself. He endeavoured 
 to deserve it by the most faithful services ; some of 
 them indeed beyond what the strength of his con- 
 stitution would well bear : for the weather in some 
 of these marches proved exceeding bad, and yet he 
 would be always at the head of his people, that he 
 might look to every thing that concerned them with 
 the exactest care. This obliged him to neglect the 
 beginnings of a feverish illness ; the natural con- 
 sequence of which was, that it grew very formida- 
 ble, forced a long confinement upon him, and gave 
 animal nature a shock which it never recovered. 
 
 § 121. In the mean time, as he had the promise 
 of a regiment before he quitted England, his friends 
 were continually expecting an occasion of congra- 
 tulating him on having received the command of 
 one. But still they were disappointed ; and on 
 some of them the disappointment seemed to sit 
 heavy. As for the Colonel himself, he seemed quite 
 easy about it ; and appeared much greater in that 
 easy situation of mind than the highest military 
 honours and preferments could have made him. 
 With great pleasure do I at this moment recollect 
 the unaffected serenity, and even indiflerence, with 
 which he expresses himself upon this occasion, in 
 a letter to me, dated about the beginning of April, 
 1743. " The disappointment of a regiment is 
 nothing to me ; for I am satisfied that, had it been 
 for God's glory, I should have had it; and I should 
 have been sorry to have had it on any other terms. 
 My heavenly Father has bestowed upon me infi- 
 nitely more than if he had made me emperor of the 
 whole world." 
 
 § 122. I find several parallel expressions in other 
 letters ; and those to his lady about the same time 
 were just in the same strain. lu an extract from 
 one which was written from Aix la Chapelle, April 
 21, the same year, I meet with these words: "Peo- 
 ple here imagine I must be sadly troubled that I 
 have not got a regiment; (for six out of seven vacant 
 are now disposed of ;) but they are strangely mis- 
 taken, for it has given nie no sort of trouble. My 
 heavenly Father knows what is best for me ; and, 
 blessed and for ever adored be his name, he has 
 given mo an entire resignation to his will ; besides. 
 
166 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 I do not kuow that ever I met with any disappoint- 
 ment since I was a Christian, but it pleased God 
 to discover to me that it was plainly for my a<lvan- 
 tagc, by bestowing- something better upon me after- 
 wards : many instances of w hich I am able to pro- 
 duce ; and therefore I should be the greatest of 
 monsters if I did not trust in him." 
 
 § 12.3. I should be guilty of a great omission if I 
 were not to add how remarkably the event corres- 
 ponded witli his faith on this occasion. For where- 
 as he had no intimation or expectation of any thing 
 more than a regiment of foot, his Majesty was 
 pleased, out of his great goodness, to give him a 
 regiment of dragoons, which was then quarterctj 
 just in his own neighbourhood. And it is properly 
 remarked by the reverend and worthy person 
 through whose hand this letter was transmitted to 
 me, that when the Colonel thus expressed himself, 
 he could have no prospect of what he afterwards so 
 soon obtained ; as General Bland's regiment, to 
 which he ^^as advanced, was only vacant on the 
 lyth of April, that is, two days before the date of 
 this letter, when it was impossible he should have 
 any notice of that vacaney> And it also deserves 
 observation, that some few days after the Colonel 
 was thus unexpectedly promoted to the command of 
 these dragoons. Brigadier Cornwallis's regiment of 
 foot, then in Flanders, became vacant : now had 
 this happened before his promotion to General 
 Bland's, Colonel Gaidiner in all probability would 
 only have had that regiment of foot, and so have 
 continued in Flanders. When the afi'air was issued, 
 he informs Lady Frances of it, in a letter dated from 
 a village near Frankfort, May 3, in which he refers 
 to his former of the 21st of April, observing how 
 remarkably it was verified in God's having given 
 him (for so he expresses it, agreeably to the views 
 he continually maintained of the universal agency 
 of divine Providence) " what he had no expecta- 
 tion of, and what was so much better than that 
 w hich he had missed, a regiment of dragoons quar- 
 tered at his own door." 
 
 § 124. It appeared to him, that by this remark- 
 able event Providence called him home. Accord- 
 ingly, though he had other preferments offered him 
 in the army, he chose to return ; and, I believe, the 
 more willingly, as he did not expect there would 
 have been any action. Just at this time it pleased 
 God to give him an awful instance of the uncer- 
 tainty of human prospects and enjoyments, by that 
 violent fever which seized him at Ghent in his way 
 to England ; and perhaps the more severely, for the 
 cfibrts he made to push on his journey, though he 
 had for some days been much indisposed. It was, 
 I think, one of the first fits of severe illness he had 
 ever met with ; and he was ready to look upon it as 
 a sudden call into eternity : but it gave him no 
 painful alarm in that view. He committed himself 
 
 to the God of his life, and in a few weeks he was 
 so well rc<;()vercd as to be callable of pursuing his 
 journey, though not without dilliculty : and I cannot 
 but think it might have conduced much to a more 
 perfect recovery than he ever attained, to have al- 
 lowed himself a longer repose, in order to recruit 
 his exhausted strength and spirits. But there was 
 an activity in his temper not easy to be restrained ; 
 and it was now stimulated, not only by a desire of 
 seeing his friends, but of being with his regiment ; 
 that he niiglit omit notiiing in ills pow er to regulate 
 their morals and their discipline, and to form them 
 for public service. Accordingly, he passed through 
 London about the middle of June, 1743, where he 
 had the honour of waiting on their Royal High- 
 nesses the Prince and Princess of Wales, and of 
 receiving from both the most obliging tokens of fa- 
 vour and esteem. He arrived at Northampton on 
 Monday the 2()th of June, and spent part of three 
 days here. But the great pleasure which his return 
 and preferment gave us, was much abated by ob- 
 serving his countenance so sadly altered, and the 
 many marks of languor, and remaining disorder, 
 which evidently appeared ; so that he really looked 
 ten years older than he had done ten months before. 
 I had however a satisfaction, sullicicnt to counter- 
 balance much of the concern which this alteration 
 gave me, in a renewed opportunity of observing, 
 indeed more sensibly than ever, in how remarkable 
 a degree he was dead to the enjoyments and views 
 of this mortal life. When I congratulated him on 
 the favourable appearance of Providence for him in 
 the late event, he briefly told me the remarkable 
 circumstances that attended it, with the most 
 genuine impressions of gratitude to God for them ; 
 but added, " that, as his account was increased with 
 his income, power, and influence, and his cares 
 were proportionably increased too, it was as to his 
 own personal concern much the same to him, 
 whether he had remained in his former station, or 
 been elevated to this ; but that, if God should by 
 this means honour him as an instrument of doing 
 more good than he could otherwise have done, he 
 should rejoice in it." 
 
 § 125. I perceived that the near views he had 
 taken of eternity, in the illness from which he was 
 then so imperfectly recovered, had not in the least 
 alarmed him ; but that he would have been entirely 
 willing, had such been the determination of God, 
 to have been cut short in a foreign land, without 
 any eartlily friend near him, and in the midst of a 
 journey, undertaken with hopes and prospects so 
 pleasing to nature ; which appeared to me no incon- 
 siderable evidence of the strength of his faith. But 
 wc shall wonder the less at this extraordinary resig- 
 nation, if we consider the joyful and assurx;d pros- 
 pect which he had of a happiness infinitely superior 
 beyond the grave ; of which that worthy minister 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 167 
 
 of the church of Scotland, who had an opportunity 
 of conversing with him quickly after his return, and 
 having the memorable stoiy of his conversion from 
 his own mouth, (as I have hinted above.) writes thus 
 in bis letter to me, dated January 14, 1746-7. — 
 " When he came to review his regiment at Linlith- 
 gow, in summer 1743, after having given me the 
 wonderful story as above, he concluded in words to 
 this purpose ; — Let me die whenever it shall please 
 God, or wherever it shall be, I am sure I shall go 
 to the mansions of eternal glory, and enjoy my God 
 and my Redeemer in heaven for ever." 
 
 § 126. While he was with us at this time he ap- 
 pealed deeply affected Avith the sad state of things 
 as to religion and morals ; and seemed to apprehend 
 that the rod of God was hanging over so sinful a 
 nation. He observed a great deal of disaffection, 
 which the enemies of the government had, by a va- 
 riety of artifices, been raising in Scotland for some 
 years ; and the number of Jacobites there, together 
 with the defenceless state in which our island then 
 was, with respect to the number of its forces at 
 home, (of which he spoke at once with great con- 
 cern and astonishment,) led him to expect an in- 
 vasion from France, and an attempt in favour of 
 the Pretender, much sooner than it happened. I 
 have heard him say, many years before it came so 
 near being accomplished, " that a few thousands 
 might have a fair chance for marching from Edih- 
 burgh to London uncontrolled, and throw the whole 
 kingdom into an astonishment." And I have great 
 reason to believe, that this was one main consider- 
 ation which engaged liim to make such haste to his 
 regiment, then quartered in those parts ; as he 
 imagined there was not a spot of ground where he 
 might be more likely to have a call to expose his 
 life in the service of his country ; and perhaps, by 
 appearing on a proper call early in its defence, be 
 instrumental in suppressing the beginnings of most 
 formidable mischief. How rightly he judged in 
 these things, the event did too evidently show. 
 
 § 127. The evening before our last .separation, a;: 
 I knew I could not entertain the invaluable friend 
 who was tlien my guest more agreeably, I preached 
 a sermon in my own house, with some particular 
 reference to his case and circumstances, from those 
 cvcr-memorable words, than which I have never 
 felt any more powerful and more comfortable. 
 Psalm xci. 14, 15, 16. Because he hath set his love 
 npon ipe, therefore will I deliver him ; I will set 
 him on high, because he hath known my name: he 
 sliaH call upon me, and I will answer him : I will 
 be with him introuble, I will deliver him and honour 
 him : with long life (or length of days) will I satisfy 
 him, and show him my salvation. This Scripture 
 could not but lead our meditations to survey the 
 character of the good man, as one who so knows 
 the name of the blessed God (has such a deep appre- 
 
 hension of the glories and perfections of his nature) 
 as determinately to set his love upon him, to make 
 him the supreme object of his most ardent and con- 
 stant affection. And it suggested the most sublime 
 and animating hopes to persons of such a character, 
 that their prayers shall be always acceptable to God ; 
 that though they may, and must, be called out to 
 their share in the troubles and calamities of life, 
 yet they may assure tliemselves of the divine pre- 
 sence in all ; which shall issue in their deliverance, 
 in their exaltation, sometimes to distinguished 
 honour and esteem among men, and, it may be, in 
 a long course of useful and happy years on earth ; 
 at least, which shall undoubtedly end in seeing, to 
 their perpetual delight, the complete salvation of 
 God, in a world where they shall enjoy length of 
 dajs for ever and ever, and employ them all in 
 adoring the great Author of their salvation and feli- 
 city. It is evident that these natural thoughts on 
 such a Scripture were matters of universal concern. 
 Yet had I known that this was the last time I 
 should ever address Colonel Gardiner as a minister 
 of tlic gospel, and had I foreseen the scenes through 
 which God was about to lead him, I hardly know 
 what considerations I could have suggested with 
 more peculiar propriety. The attention, elevation, 
 and delight, with which he heard them, was very 
 apparent ; and the pleasure which the observation 
 of it gave me, continues to this moment. And let 
 me be permitted to digress so far as to add, that 
 this is indeed the great support of a Christian minis- 
 ter under the many discouragements and disap- 
 pointments which he meets with in his attempts to 
 fix upon the profligate or the thoughtless part of 
 mankind a deep sense of religious truth ; that there 
 is anotlier important part of his work, in which he 
 may hope to be more generally successful ; as by 
 plain, artless, but serious discourses, the great prin- 
 ciples of Christian duty and hope may be nourished 
 and invigorated in good men, their graces watered 
 as at the root, and their souls animated both to per- 
 severe and improve in holiness. And when we are 
 effectually performing sui;h benevolent ofliccs, so 
 well suiting our immortal natures, to persons whose 
 hearts are cemented with ours in the bonds of the 
 most endearing and sacred friendship, it is too 
 little to say it overpays tiie fatigue of our labours ; 
 it even swallows up all sense of it in the most 
 rational and sublime pleasure. 
 
 § 128. An incident occurs to my mind which hap- 
 pened that evening, which at least for the oddness 
 of it may deserve a place in these memoirs. I had 
 then with me one Thomas Porter, a i)Oor but very 
 honest and religious man, (now living at Hatfield 
 Broadoak, in Essex,) who is (luitc unacquainted 
 with letters, so as not to be able to distinguish one 
 from another ; yet is master of the contents of the 
 Bible in so extraordinary a degree, that he has not 
 
ICS 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 only lixcd an immense number of texts in his me- 
 mory, hut merely hy hearing them quoted in ser- 
 mons, has registered there the chapter and verse in 
 %vhieh these passafies are to be found : this is at- 
 tended with a marvellous facility in directing those 
 that ean read to turn to them, and a most unac- 
 countable talent of fixing on such as suit almost 
 every imaginable variety of circumstances in com- 
 mon life. There are two considerations in his case 
 w hich make it the more wonderful : the one, that 
 he is a person of a very low genius, having, besides 
 a stammering which makes his speech almost un- 
 intelligible to strangers, so wild and awkward a 
 manner of behaviour, that he is frequently taken for 
 an idiot, and seems in many things to be indeed so ; 
 the other, that he grew up to manhood in a very 
 liecr.tious course of living, and an entire ignorance 
 of divine tilings, so tliat all these exact impressions 
 on his memory have been made in his riper years. 
 I thought it would not be disagreeable to the 
 Colonel to introduce to him this odd pha-nomenon, 
 w hich many hundreds of people have had a curi- 
 osity to examine ; and among all the strange things 
 I have seen in him, I never remember any which 
 equalled what passed on this occasion. On hearing 
 the Colonel's profession, and receiving some hints 
 of his religious character, he ran through a vast 
 variety of Scriptures, beginning at the Pentateuch 
 and going on to the Revelations, relating either 
 to the dependence to be fixed on God for the suc- 
 cess of military preparations, or to the instances 
 and promises occurring there of his care of good 
 men in the most imminent dangers, or to the en- 
 couragement to despise perils and death while 
 engaged in a good cause, and supported by the 
 views of a happy immortality. I believe he quoted 
 more than twenty of these passages ; and I must 
 freely own, that I know not who could have chose 
 them with greater propriety. If my memory do not 
 deceive me, the last of his catalogue was that from 
 which I afterwards preached on the lamented oc- 
 casion of this great man's fall : Be thou faithful 
 unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life. 
 We w ere all astonished at so remarkable a fact ; 
 and I question not but many of my readers will 
 think the memory of it worthy of being thus pre- 
 .served. 
 
 § 129. But to return to my main subject : the 
 next day after the sermon and conversation of 
 which I have been speaking, I took my last leave of 
 my inestimable friend, after attending him some 
 part of his way northward. The first stage of our 
 journey was to the cottage of that poor,, but very 
 religious, family which I had occasion to mention 
 ai)ovc, as relieved, and indeed in a great measure 
 subsisted, by his charity. And nothing could be 
 more delightful than to observe the condescension 
 with which he conversed with these his humble pen- 
 
 sioners. We there put up our last united prayers 
 together ; and he afterwards expressed, in the 
 strongest terms I ever heard him use on such an 
 occasion, the singular pleasure with which he had 
 joined in them. Indeed it was no small satisfaction 
 to mc to have an opportunity of recommending such 
 a valuable friend to the divine protection and 
 blessing, with that particular freedom, and enlarge- 
 ment on what was peculiar in his circumstances, 
 which hardly any otlicr situation, unless we had 
 been quite alone, could so conveniently have ad- 
 mitted. We went from thence to the table of a 
 person of distinction in the neighbourhood, where 
 he had an opportunity of showing in how decent 
 and graceful a manner he could unite the Christian 
 and the gentleman, and give conversation an im- 
 proving and religious turn, without violating any 
 of the rules of polite behaviour, or saying or doing 
 any thing which looked at all constrained or all'ected. 
 Here we took our last embrace, committed each 
 other to the care of the God of heaven ; and the 
 Colonel pursued his journey to the north, where he 
 spent all the remainder of his days. 
 
 § 130. The more I reflect upon this appointment 
 of Providence, the more I discern of the beauty and 
 wisdom of it ; not only as it led directly to that 
 glorious period of life with which God had deter- 
 mined to honour him, and in which I think it be- 
 comes all his friends to rejoice ; but also, as the 
 retirement on which he entered could not but have 
 a happy tendency to favour his more immediate 
 and complete preparation for so speedy a remove. 
 To which we may add, that it must probably have 
 a very powerful influence to promote the interests 
 of religion (incomparably the greatest of all in- 
 terests) among the members of his own family ; 
 who must surely edify much by such daily lessons 
 as they received from his lips, when they saw them 
 illustrated and enforced by so admirable an exam- 
 ple, and this for two complete years. It is the more 
 remarkable, as I cannot find from the memoirs of 
 Jiis life in my hands, that he had ever been so long 
 at home since he had a family, or indeed, from his 
 childhood, ever so long at a time in any one place. 
 
 § 131. With how clear a lustre his lamp shone," 
 and with what holy vigour his loins were girded up 
 in the service of his God, in these his latter days, 
 I learn in part from the letters of several excellent 
 persons, in the ministry, or in secular life, with 
 whom I have since conversed or corresponded. 
 And in his many letters, dated from Bankton, 
 during this period, I have still further evidence 
 how happy he was amidst those infirmities of body 
 which his tenderness for me would seldom allow 
 him to mention ; for it appears from them what a 
 daily intercourse he kept up with heaven, and what 
 delightful communion with God crowned his at- 
 tendance on public ordinances and his sweet hours 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 1G9 
 
 of devout retirement. He mentions his sacramental 
 opportunities with peculiar relish, crying out as in 
 a holy rapture, in reference to one and another of 
 them, " O how gracious a Master do we serve ! 
 how pleasant is his service ! how rich the entertain- 
 ments of his love ! Yet, oh how poor, and cold, are 
 our services !" — But I will not multiply quotations 
 of this sort, after those I have given above, which 
 may be a sufficient specimen of many more in the 
 same strain. This hint may suffice to show, that the 
 same ardour of soul held out in a great measure to 
 the last ; and indeed it seems that, towards the 
 close of life, like the flame of a lamp almost expir- 
 ing, it sometimes exerted an unusual blaze. 
 
 § He spent much of his time at Bankton in 
 religious solitude ; and one most intimately con- 
 versant with him assures me, that the traces of that 
 delightful converse with God which he enjoyed in 
 it, might easily be discerned in that solemn yet 
 cheerful countenance with which he often came out 
 of his closet. Yet his exercises there must some- 
 times have been very mournful, considering the 
 melancholy views which he had of the state of our 
 public affairs. "I should be glad," says he, (in a 
 letter which he sent me about the close of the year 
 1743,) " to hear what wise and good people among 
 you think of the present circumstances of things. 
 For my own part, though I thank God I fear nothing 
 for myself, my apprehensions for the public are 
 very gloomy, considering the deplorable prevaleney 
 of almost all kinds of wickedness amongst us ; the 
 natural consequence of the contempt of the gospel. 
 I am daily oflering my prayers to God for this sin- 
 ful land of ours, over which his judgments seem to 
 be gathering; and my strength is sometimes so 
 exhausted with those strong cries and tears which 
 I pour out before God on this occasion, that I am 
 hardly able to stand when I arise from my knees." 
 If we have many remaining to stand in the breach 
 with equal fervency, I hope, crying as our provo- 
 cations are, God will still be entreated for us, and 
 save us. 
 
 § 133. Most of the other letters I had the pleasure 
 of receiving from him, after our last separation, are 
 either filled, like those of former years, with tender 
 expressions of affectionate solicitude for my domestic 
 comfort and public usefulness, or relate to the 
 writings I published during this time, or to the 
 afl'airs of his eldest son, then under my care. But 
 these are things which are by no means of a nature 
 to be communicated here. It is enough to remark 
 in the general, that the Christian was still mingled 
 with all the care of the friend and the parent. 
 
 § 134. But I think it incumbent upon me to 
 ob.serve, that during this time, and some preceding 
 years, his attention, ever wakeful to such concerns, 
 was much engaged by some religious appearances, 
 which happened about this time, both in England 
 
 and Scotland ; with regard to which some may be 
 curious to know his sentiments. He communicated 
 them to me with the most unreserved freedom ; and 
 I cannot apprehend myself under any engagements 
 to conceal them, as I am persuaded that it will be 
 no prejudice to his memory that they should be 
 publicly known. 
 
 § 135. It was from Colonel Gardiner's pen that I 
 received the first notice of that ever-memorable 
 scene which was opened at Kilsyth, under the 
 ministry of the Reverend Mr. MaccuUoch, in the 
 month of February, 1741-2. He communicated to 
 me the copy of two letters from that eminently 
 favoured servant of God, giving an account of that 
 extraordinary success which had within a few days 
 accompanied his preaching ; when, as I remember, 
 in a little more than a fortnight a hundred and thirty 
 souls, who had before continued in long insensibility 
 under the faithful preaching of the gospel, were 
 awakened on a sudden to attend it, as if it had been 
 a new revelation brought down from heaven, and 
 attested by as astonishing miracles as ever were 
 wrought by Peter or Paul ; though they heard it 
 only from a person under whose ministry they have 
 sat for several years. Struck with a power and 
 majesty in the word of God, which they had never 
 felt before, they crowded his house night and day, 
 making their applications to him for spiritual direc- 
 tion and assistance with an earnestness and solici- 
 tude, which floods of tears and cries, that swallowed 
 up their own words and his, could not sufliciently 
 express. The Colonel mentioned this at first to me 
 as matter of eternal praise, which he knew would 
 rejoice my very soul ; and when he saw it spread in 
 the neighbouring parts, and observed the glorious 
 reformation whicli it produced in the lives of great 
 multitudes, and the abiding fruits of it for succeed- 
 ing montiis and years, it increased and confirmed 
 his joy. But the facts relating to tliis matter have 
 been laid before the world in so authentic a manner, 
 and the agency of divine grace in them has been so 
 rationally vindicated and so pathetically represented 
 in what the reverend and judicious Mr. Webster has 
 written upon that subject, that it is altogether 
 superfluous for mc to add any thing further than my 
 hearty prayers, that the work may be as extensive 
 as it M as apparently glorious and divine. 
 
 § 136. It was with great pleasure that he received 
 any intelligence of a like kind from England ; 
 ■w hether the clergy of the established church or dis- 
 senting ministers, whether our own countrymen or 
 foreigners, were the instruments of it. And, what- 
 ever weaknesses or errors might mingle themselves 
 with valuable qualities in such as Mere active in 
 such a work, he appeared to love and honour them 
 in proportion to the degree he saw reason to believe 
 their hearts were devoted to the service of Christ, 
 and their attempts owned and succeeded by him. 
 
170 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 1 remember tli.it. inentioiiiiis; one of those Rcntle- 
 inen, w ho had been remarkably suceessriil in Jiis 
 ministry, and seemed to liave met with some very 
 unkind usajie, he says, " I had rather be that de- 
 sjiisfd persoeuted man, to be an instrument in the 
 Jiand of the Spirit, in convertino- so many souls, and 
 biiildiii!;' up so many in tlieir holy faith, than 1 
 would be emperor of the whole "world." Yet this 
 steady and judicious Christian, (for such he most 
 assuredly was,) at the same time that ho esteemed a 
 man for his a;ood intention and his worthy qualities, 
 did not suffer himself to be liurried away into all 
 the sinn:ularity of his sentiments, or to admire his 
 imjirudences or excesses. On the contrary, he saw 
 and lan\entod that artifice which the great father of 
 fraud has so long and so successfully been practis- 
 ing ; « ho, like the enemies of Israel, when he can- 
 not entirely prevent the building of God's temple, 
 does as it were ofTer his assistance to carry on the 
 work, that he may thereby get the most ed'ectual 
 opportunities of obstructing it. The Colonel often 
 expressed his astonishment at the wide extremes 
 into which some whom, on the whole, he thought 
 very worthy men, were permitted to run in many 
 doctrinal and speculative points ; an<l discerned 
 how evidently it appeared from hence, that we can- 
 not argue the truth of any doctrine from the suc- 
 cess of the preacher ; since this would be a kind of 
 demonstration (if I may be allowed the expression) 
 which might equally prove both parts of a contra- 
 diction. Yet when he observed, that a high regard 
 to the atonement and righteousness of Christ, and 
 to the free grace of God in him, exerted by the 
 operation of the divine Spirit, was generally com- 
 mon to all who had been peculiarly successful in 
 the conversion and reformation of men, (how wide- 
 ly soever their judgments might difl'er in other 
 points, and how warmly soever they might oppose 
 each other in consequence of that diversity,) it 
 tended greatly to confirm his faith in these princi- 
 ples, as well as to open his heart in love to all of 
 every denomination, who maintained an affectionate 
 regai'd to them. And though what he remarked as 
 to the conduct and success of ministers of (he most 
 opposite strains of preaching, confirmed him in these 
 sentiments ; yet he always esteemed and loved vir- 
 tuous and benevolent men, even where he thought 
 them most mistaken in the notions they formed of 
 religion, or in the methods by which they attempted 
 to serve it. 
 
 § 137. While I thus represent what all who knew 
 him must soon have observed of Colonel Gardiner's 
 affectionate regard to these peculiar doctrines of our 
 holy religion, it is necessary that I should also in- 
 form my reader, that it was not his judgment that 
 the attention of ministers, or their hearers, should be 
 wholly engrossed by these, excellent as they are ; 
 but that all the parts of the scheme of truth and 
 
 duty should be regarded in their due connexion 
 and proportion. Far from that distempered taste 
 which can bear nothing l)ut cordials, it was his de- 
 liberate ju<lgment, that the law should be preached, 
 as well as the gospel ; and hardly any thing gave 
 him greater offence than the irreverent manner in 
 which some, who have been ignorantly extolled as 
 the most zealous evangelical preachers, have some- 
 times been tempted to speak of the former ; much 
 indeed to the scandal of all consistent aiul judicious 
 Christians. He deli^;'hted to be instructed in his 
 duty, and to hear much of the inward exercises of 
 the spiritual and divine life. And he always wish- 
 ed, so far as I could observe, to have these topics 
 treated in a rational as well as a spiritual manner, 
 with solidity and order of thought, with perspicuity 
 and weight of expression ; as well knowing, that re- 
 ligion is a most reasonable service; that God has 
 not chosen idiots or lunatics as the instruments, or 
 nonsense as the means, of building up his church ; 
 and that though the charge of enthusiasm is often 
 fixed on Christianity and its ministers, in a wild, 
 undeserved, and indeed (on the whole) cnthusiasti- 
 cal manner, by some of the loudest or most solemn 
 pretenders to reason ; yet there is really such a thing 
 as enthusiasm, against which it becomes the true 
 friends of the revelation to be diligently on their 
 guard ; lest Christianity, instead of being exalted, 
 should be greatly corrupted and debased, and all 
 manner of absurdity, both in doctrine and prac- 
 tice, introduced by methods which, like persecu- 
 tion, throw truth and falsehood on a level, and ren- 
 der the grossest errors at once more plausible and 
 more incurable. He had too much candour and 
 equity to fix general charges of this nature ; but he 
 was really, and, I think, not vainly, apprehensive, 
 that the emissaries and agents of the most corrupt 
 church that ever dishonoured the Christian name, 
 (by which, it will easily be understood, I mean that 
 of Rome,) might very possibly insinuate them- 
 selves into societies, to which they could not other- 
 wise have access, and make their advantage of that 
 total resignation of the understanding, and contempt 
 of reason and learning, which nothing but ignorance, 
 delirium, or knavery, can dictate, to lead them 
 blindfold whither it pleased, till it set them down 
 at the foot of an altar where transubstantiation itself 
 is consecrated. 
 
 § l.^S. I know not where I can more properly in- 
 troduce another part of the Colonel's character, 
 which, obvious as it was, I have not yet touched 
 upon : I mean, his tenderness to those who were 
 under any spiritual distress ; wherein he was indeed 
 an example to ministers in a duty more peculiarly 
 theirs. 1 have seen many amiable instances of this 
 myself, and I have been informed of many others : 
 one of which happened about the time of that 
 awakening in the. western parts of Scotland, which 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 171 
 
 I touched upon above ; ^vhcn the Reverend Mr. 
 Maclaurin of Glasgow found occasion to witness 
 to the great propriety, judgment, and felicity of 
 manner, with which he addressed spiritual consola- 
 tion to an afflicted soul, who applied to the pro- 
 fessor at a time when he had not an opportunity 
 immediately to give audience to the case. And 
 indeed, as long ago as the year 1726, I find him 
 writing to a friend in a strain of tenderness in this 
 regard, which might well have become the most 
 affectionate and experienced pastor. He there 
 congratulates him on some religious enjoyments 
 lately received, (in part, it seems, by his means,) 
 when, among others, he has this modest expression : 
 " If I have been made any way the means of doing 
 you good, give the whole glory to God ; for he has 
 been willing to show that the power was entirely of 
 himself, since he has been pleased to make use of 
 so very weak an instrument." In the same letter 
 he admonishes his friend, that he should not be too 
 much surprised, if, after having been (as he ex- 
 presses it) upon the mount, he should be brought 
 into the valley again ; and reminds him that " we 
 live by faith, and not by sensible assurance," repre- 
 senting, that there are some such full communica- 
 tions from God, as seem almost to swallow up the 
 actings of faith, from whence they take their rise : 
 " whereas, wlien a Christian who walks in dark- 
 ness, and sees no light, will yet hang, as it were, 
 on the report of an absent Jesus ;" and, as one ex- 
 presses it in allusion to the story of Jacob and 
 Joseph, " can put himself, as on the chariot of the 
 promises, to be borne on to Him whom now he 
 sees not ; there may be sublimer and more accept- 
 able actions of a pure and strong faith, than in 
 moments which afford the soul a much more rap- 
 turous delight." This is the substance of what he 
 .says in the excellent letter. Some of the phrases 
 made use of might not, perhaps, be intelligible to 
 several of my readers, for which reason I do not 
 exactly transcribe them all ; but this is plainly and 
 fully his meaning, and most of the words are his 
 own. The sentiment is surely very just and im- 
 portant; and happy would it be for many cvcellent 
 persons, who, through wrong notions of the nature 
 of faitii, (which was never more misrepresented than 
 now among some,) are perplexing themselves with 
 most groundless doubts and scruples, if it were more 
 generally understood, admitted, and considered. 
 
 ^ 1.39. An endeared friend, who was mo.st inti- 
 mately conversant with the Colonel during the two 
 last years of his life, has favoured me with an ac- 
 count of some little circumstances relating to him ; 
 which I esteem as precious fragvients, by which 
 the consistent tenor of his character may be further 
 illustraltd. I shall, therefore, insert them here, 
 without being very solicitous as to the order in 
 which they are introduced. 
 
 § 140. He perceived himself evidently in a very 
 declining state from his first arrival in Britain, and 
 seemed to entertain a fixed apprehension, that he 
 should continue but a little while longer in life. 
 " He expected death," says my good correspondent, 
 " and was delighted with the prospect," which did 
 not grow less amiable by a nearer approach. Thrj 
 word of God, with which he had as intimate aja 
 acquaintance as most men I ever knew, and on 
 which, especially on the New Testament, I ha.ve 
 heard him make many very judicious and accurate 
 remarks, was still his daily study ; and it furni.slied 
 him with matter of frequent conversation, much to 
 the edification and comfort of those that were .'iibout 
 him. It was recollected, that among other parjsages 
 lie had lately spoke of the following, as 'naving 
 made a deep impression on his mind : My soul, 
 wait thou only upon God ! He would repeat it 
 again and again. Only, Only, Only ! So plainly 
 did he see, and so deeply did he feel, the vanity of 
 creature confidences and expectations. With the 
 strongest attestation would he often mention those 
 words in Isaiah, as verified by long experience : 
 Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind 
 is stayed on thee ; because he trusteth in thee. 
 And with peculiar satisfaction would he utter those 
 heroic words in Habakkuk, which he found armour 
 of proof against every fear and every contingency: 
 Though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall 
 fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall 
 fail, and the fields shall yield no meat : the flocks 
 shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no 
 herd in the stalls : yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I 
 will joy in the God of my salvation. The 145fli 
 Psahn was also spoken of by him with great de- 
 light, and Dr. Watts's version of it; as well as 
 several other of that excellent person's poeti- 
 cal composures. ISIy friend wlio transmits mc 
 this account, adds the following words; which I 
 desire to insert with the deepest sentiments of un- 
 feigned humility and self-abasement before God, as 
 most unworthy the honour of contributing in the 
 least degree to the joys and graces of one so much 
 my superior in every part of the Christian character : 
 " As the joy with which good men see the happy 
 fruits of their labours, makes a i)ait of the present 
 reward of the servants of God and the friends of 
 Jesus, it must not be oi. lifted, even in a letter to 
 you, that your spiritual hymns were among his most 
 delightful and soul-improving repast; particulaily 
 those on beholding transgressors with grief, and 
 Christ's message." What is added concerning my 
 book of the Rise and Progress of Religion, and the 
 terms in which he ex])ressed his esteem of it, I 
 cannot suficr to ])ass my pen ; only desire most 
 sincerely to bless God that, especially by the last 
 chapters of (hat treatise, I had an opportunity, at 
 so great a distance, of exhibiting ,sou»o ofliccs of 
 
17-2 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 CliTistiun Iricnilsliip to this excellent person, in 
 the closins^ scenes of lite, which it would liave been 
 my ijreatest joy to have performed in person, had 
 Providence pennittod me then to have been near 
 him. 
 
 § 141. The former of those hymns my corres- 
 pondent mentions, as havinfc been so agfreeable to 
 Colonel Gardiner, I have j!;iven the reader above, 
 at the end of section 101. The latter, which is 
 called Christ's Messas;e, took its rise from Luke iv. 
 18, et seq. and is as follows : 
 
 I. 
 
 Hark ! the glad sound ! the Saviour comes, 
 
 The Saviour, promised long ! 
 Let ev'ry heart prepare a throne. 
 
 And ev'ry voice a song. 
 
 IL 
 
 On him the Spirit largely poured. 
 
 Exerts its sacred fire ; 
 Wisdom, and might, and zeal, and love, 
 
 His holy breast inspire. 
 
 III. 
 
 He comes, the prisoners to release 
 
 In Satan's bondage held ; 
 The gates of brass before him burst, 
 
 The iron fetters yield. 
 
 IV. 
 
 He comes, from thickest fdms of vice 
 
 To clear the mental ray, 
 And on the eyeballs of the blind 
 
 To pour celestial day.* 
 V. 
 
 He comes, the broken heart to bind. 
 
 The bleeding soul to cure ; 
 And with the treasures of his grace 
 
 To enrich the humble poor. 
 
 VI. 
 
 His silver trumpets publisli loud 
 
 The jubilee of the Lord ; 
 Our debts are all remitted now, 
 
 Our heritage restored. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Our glad hosannahs. Prince of peace, 
 
 Thy welcome shall proclaim ; 
 And heaven's eternal arches ring 
 
 With thy beloved name. 
 
 ^ 142. There is one hymn more I shall beg leave 
 to add, plain as it is, which Colonel Gardiner has 
 been heard to mention with particular regard, as 
 expressing the inmost sentiments of his soul; and 
 they were undoubtedly so in the last rational mo- 
 ments of his expiring life. It is called, Christ 
 precious to tlie Believer ; and was composed to be 
 sung after a sermon on 1 Peter ii. 7. 
 
 * This stanza is mostly borrowed from Mr. Pope. 
 
 I. 
 
 Jesus ! I love thy charming name, 
 
 'Tis music to my ear ; 
 Fain would I sound it out so loud 
 
 That earth and heaven should hear. 
 II. 
 
 Yes, thou art precious to my soul, 
 
 My transport and my trust : 
 Jewels to thee are gaudy toys, 
 
 And gold is sordid dust. 
 
 III. 
 
 All my capacious powers can wish, 
 
 In thee most richly meet : 
 Nor to my eyes is life so dear. 
 
 Nor friendship half so sweet. 
 IV. 
 
 Thy grace still dwells upon my heart. 
 
 And sheds its fragrance there ; 
 The noblest balm of all its wounds, 
 
 The cordial of its care. 
 
 V. 
 
 I '11 speak the honours of thy name 
 
 With my last lab'ring breath ; 
 Then, speechless, clasp thee in my arms, 
 
 The antidote of death. 
 
 § 143. Those who were intimate with Colonel 
 Gardiner, must have observed how ready he was to 
 give a devotional turn to any subject that occurred. 
 And in particular, the spiritual and heavenly dis- 
 position of his soul discovered itself in the reflec- 
 tions and improvements which he made when read- 
 ing history ; in which he took a great deal of plea- 
 sure, as persons remarkable for their knowledge of 
 mankind, and observation of Providence, generally 
 do. I have an instance of this before me, which, 
 though too natural to be at all surprising, will, I 
 dare say, be pleasing to the devout mind. He had 
 just been reading, in Rollin's extract from Xeno- 
 phon, the answer which the lady of Tigranes made, 
 when all the company were extolling Cyrus, and 
 expressing the admiration with which his appear- 
 ance and behaviour struck them : The question be- 
 ing asked her. What she thought of him ? she an- 
 swered, I do not know, I did not observe him. On 
 what then, said one of the company, did you fix your 
 attention ? On him, replied she, (referring to the 
 generous speech which her husband had just made,) 
 who said he would give a thousand lives to ransom 
 ray liberty. " O," cried the Colonel, when read- 
 ing it, " how ought we to fix our eyes and hearts 
 on him who not in offer, but in reality, gave his own 
 precious life to ransom us from the most dreadful 
 slaverj', and from eternal de.struction I" But this 
 is only one instance among a thousand. His heart 
 was so habitually set upon divine things, and he 
 had such a permanent and overflowing sense of the 
 love of Christ, that he could not forbear connecting 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 173 
 
 such reflections with a multitude of more distant 
 occasions occurring in daily life, where less ad- 
 vanced Christians would not have thought of them; 
 and thus, like our great Master, he made every little 
 incident a source of devotion, and an instrument of 
 holy zeal. 
 
 § 144. Enfeebled as his constitution was, he was 
 still intent on improving his time to some valuable 
 purposes: and when his friends expostulated with 
 him, that he gave his body so little rest, he used to 
 answer, " It will rest long enough in the grave." 
 
 § 14.5. Tiie July before his death he was per- 
 suaded to take a journey to Scarborough, for the 
 recovery of his health ; from which he was at least 
 encouraged to expect some little revival. After 
 this he had thoughts of going to London, and de- 
 signed to bas e spent part of September at North- 
 ampton. The expectation of this was mutually 
 agreeable ; but Providence saw fit to disconcert the 
 scheme. His love for his friends in these parts 
 occasioned him to express some regret on his being 
 commanded back : and I am pretty confident, from 
 the manner in which he expressed himself in one 
 of his last letters to me, tliat he had some more 
 important reasons for wishing an opportunity of 
 making a London journey just at that crisis ; which, 
 the reader will remember, was before the rebellion 
 broke out. But as Providence determined other- 
 wise, he acquiesced ; and I am well satisfied, that 
 could he have distinctly foreseen the approaching 
 event, so far as it concerned his own person, he 
 would have esteemed it the happiest summons he 
 ever received. While he was at Scarborough, 1 
 find by a letter dated from thence, July 26, 174.5, 
 that he had been informed of the gaiety which so 
 unseasonably prevailed at Edinburgh, where great 
 multitudes were then spending their time in balls, 
 assemblies, and other gay amusements, little mind- 
 ful of the rod of God which was then hanging over 
 Ihcm ; on which occasion he hath this expression; 
 " I am greatly surprised that the people of Edin- 
 burgh should be employed in such foolish diver- 
 sions, when our situation is at present more melan- 
 choly than ever I saw it in my life. But there is 
 one thing wliich I am very sure of, that comforts 
 me, viz. that it shall go well w ith the righteous, 
 •come what will." 
 
 § 140. Quickly after his return home the flame 
 burst out, and his regiment was ordered to Stirling. 
 It was in the castle there that his lady and eldest 
 daughter enjoyed the last happy hours of his com- 
 pany ; and I think it was about eight or ten days 
 before his death that he parted from them there. 
 A remarkable circumstance attended that parting, 
 which hath been touched upon by surviving friends 
 in more than one of their letters to me. Ills lady 
 was so aflected when she took her last leave of 
 him, that she could not forbear bursting out into 
 
 a flood of tears, with other marks of unusual emo- 
 tion. And when he asked her the reason, she 
 urged the apprehension she had of losing such an 
 invaluable friend, amidst the dangers to which he 
 was then called out, as a very suflicient apology. 
 Upon which she took particular notice, that whereas 
 he had generally comforted her on such occasions, 
 by pleading with her that remarkable hand of Pro- 
 vidence which had so frequently in former instances 
 been exerted for his preservation, and that in tlie 
 greatest extremity, he said nothing of it now ; but 
 only replied, in his sententious manner, "We have 
 an eternity to spend together." 
 
 § 147. That heroic contempt of death which had 
 often discovered itself in the midst of former dan- 
 gers, was manifested now in his discourse with 
 several of his most intimate friends. I have re- 
 served for this place one genuine expression of it 
 many years before, which I thought might be men- 
 tioned with some advantage here. In July 1725, 
 he had been sent to some place, not far from Hamil- 
 ton, to quell a mutiny among some of our troops. 
 I know not the particular occasion ; but I remem- 
 ber to have heard him mention it as so fierce a one, 
 that he scarce ever apprehended himself in a more 
 hazardous circumstance. Yet he quelled it by his 
 presence alone, and the expostulations he used ; 
 evidently putting his life into his hand to do it. 
 The particulars of the story struck me much ; but I 
 do not so exactly remember them as to venture to 
 relate them here. I only observe, that in a letter 
 dated July 16, that year, which I have now before 
 me, and which evidently refers to this event, he 
 writes thus : " I have been very busy, hurried about 
 from place to place ; but blessed be God, all is over 
 w ithout bloodshed. And pray let me ask. What 
 made you show so much concern for me in your 
 last ? Were you afraid I should get to heaven be- 
 fore you ; Or can any evil befall those who are fol- 
 lowers of that which is good ?" * 
 
 § 148. And as these were his sentiments in the 
 vigour of his days, so neither did declining years 
 and the infirmities of a broken constitution on the 
 one hand, nor any desires of enjoying the honours 
 and profits of so high a station, or (what was much 
 more to him) the converse of the most afl'cctionatc 
 of wives, and so many amiable children and friends, 
 on the other, enervate his spirits in the least : but 
 as he had in former years often expressed it, to me 
 and several others, as his desire, "that if it were 
 
 * I dfinht not but this will remind some of my readers of tiiat noble 
 speeeh of Ziiin;;Iins, wlien, (areordin}; to tlie nsai^c of that eniintry,) 
 attending bis ilock to a battle in winch their reli;;ion and liberties were 
 all at stake, on hisreceiviiif^a mortal wound by a bullet, of whieli In; soou 
 expired, while his friends were in all the first astenii.sliment of y;rief, he 
 bravely said as be was^dyini;, " Lefjuid hoc infortunii ? Is this tej be 
 reckoned a misfortune ?" How many of our deists would have cele- 
 brated such a sentence if it had comi' from the lips of an ancient Ro- 
 man? Stranffe, that the name of Christ should be so odious, that the 
 brii^htcst virtues of bis fulluwers should be (lespise<l for bis sake ! J5ut 
 so it is : and so our Master told lis it would be : and our faith is in tliis 
 connexioD confirmed by those that strive must to overthrow it. 
 
174 
 
 REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 the M ill of Cod, lie niisht liavc sonic lionouraltlo 
 call t.o sacrilice Ijis lite in dereiice of religion and 
 the liberties of his country ;" so, when it appeared 
 to hi.iu most probable that he might he called to it 
 imu'ifdiatoly, he met the sinnuions with the greatest 
 readiness. This appears in part from a letter which 
 he wrote to the Reverend Mr. Adams of Falkirk, 
 jus t as he was on inarching from Stirling, which 
 w?is only eight days before his death : " The rebels," 
 says he, " are advancing to cross the Firth ; but I 
 trust in the Almighty God, wlio doth whatsoever he 
 picaseth in the armies of heaven, and among the 
 inhabitants of the earth." And the same gentle- 
 ii;aii tells me, that a few days after the dale of this, 
 he marched through Falkirk with his regiment; and 
 though he was then in so languishing a state, that 
 he needed his assistance as a secretary to write for 
 somt^ reinforcements which might put it in his 
 powe-r to make a stand, (as he was very desirous to 
 have done,) he expressed a most genuine and noble 
 conte mpt of life when to be exposed in the defence 
 of a v. orthy cause. 
 
 § 141:9. These sentiments wrought in him to the 
 last ill the most efl'ectual manner ; and he seemed 
 for a ^vhile to have infused them into the regiment 
 which he commanded : for they expressed such a 
 spirit ill their march from Stirling, that I am assured 
 the Colvonel was obliged to exert all his authority 
 to prevent their making incursions on the rebel 
 army, which then lay very near them: and had it 
 been thought proper to send him the reinforcement 
 he requested, none can say what the consequence 
 might have been. But he was ordered to march as 
 fast as jiossible to meet Sir John Cope's forces at 
 Dunbar ; which he did : and that hasty retreat, in 
 concurrence with the news which they soon after 
 received of the surrender of Edinburgh to t'le rebels, 
 (either by the treachery or weakness of a few, in 
 opposition to the judgment of by far the greater and 
 better part of the inhabitants,) struck a panic into 
 b.oth the regiments of dragoons, which became 
 visible in some very apparent and remarkable cir- 
 cumstances in their behaviour, which I forbear to 
 relate. This afl'ected Colonel Gardiner so much, 
 that, on the Thursday before the fatal action at 
 Prcstonpans, he intimated to an officer of con- 
 siderable rank and note, (from whom I had it by a 
 very sure channel of conveyance.) that he expected 
 the event would be as in fact it was. In this view, 
 there is all imaginable reason to believe be had 
 farmed his resolution as to his own personal con- 
 duct, which was, " that he would not, in case of the 
 fiight of those under his command, retreat with 
 them ;" by which, as it seemed, he was reasonably 
 ap>prehensive he might have stained the honour of 
 lii.s former services, and have given some occasion 
 for the enemy to have spoken reproachfully. He 
 much rather chose, if Providence gave him the call. 
 
 to leave in his death an example of fidelity and 
 bravery, which might very probably be (as in fact it 
 seems indeed to have been) of much greater im- 
 portance to his country, than any other .service 
 whidi in the few days of remaining life he could 
 expect to render it. I conclude these to have been 
 his views, not only from what I knew of his general 
 character and temper, but likewise from some in- 
 timations which he gave to a very worthy person 
 from Edinburgh, who visited him the day before 
 tlie action ; to whom he said, " I cannot intluence 
 the conduct of others as I could wish, but I have 
 one life to sacrifice to my country's safety, and I 
 shall not spare it;" or words to that efl'ect. 
 
 § 1.50. I have heard such a multitude of incon- 
 sistent reports of the circnnistances of Colonel 
 (Jardiner's death, that I had almost despaired of 
 being able to give my reader any particular satis- 
 faction concerning so interesting a scene. But by 
 a happy accident I have very lately bad an oppor- 
 tunity of being exactly informed of the whole, by 
 that brave man, Mr. John Foster, his faithful ser- 
 vant, (and worthy of the honour of serving such a 
 roaster,) whom I had seen with him at my house some 
 years before. He attended him in his last hours, 
 and gave me the narration at large ; which he would 
 be ready, if it were requisite, to attest upon oath. 
 From his mouth I wrote it down with the utmost 
 exactness, and could easily believe, from the ge- 
 nuine and aflectionate manner in which he related 
 the particulars, that, according to his own striking 
 expression, " his ej'e and his heart were always 
 upon his honoured master during the whole time."* 
 
 § 151. On Friday, September 20, (the day before 
 the battle which transmitted him to his immortal 
 crown,) when the whole army was drawn up, I think 
 about noon, the Colonel rode through all the ranks 
 of his own regiment, addressing them at once in 
 the most respectful and animating manner, both as 
 soldiers, and as Christians, to engage them to exert 
 themselves courageously in the service of their 
 country, and to neglect nothing that might have a 
 tendency to prepare them for whatever event might 
 happen. They seemed much affected with the 
 address, and expressed a very ardent desire of 
 attacking the enemy immediately ; a desire, in 
 which he and another very gallant officer of dis- 
 tinguished rank, dignity, and character, both for 
 bravery and conduct, would gladly have gratified 
 them, if it had been in the power of either. He 
 earnestly pressed it on the commanding officer, both 
 as the soldiers were then in better spirits than it 
 could be supposed they would be after having 
 
 * Just as I am putting tlio last haml In tliesp Memoirs, March 2, 
 174C.7, 1 liave mtt witli a corporal in Colonel Lascelles's regiment, 
 wlio was also an eye-witness to what happened at Prestonpans on the 
 day of the batlle, and the day before : and the account he has given 
 me of some memorable particulars is so exactly agreeable to lhat which 
 I received from Mr. Foster, that it would mu«h corroborate his test!, 
 mony, if there were not so many other considerations to render it con- 
 vincing. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 175 
 
 passed the night under arms, and also as the cir- 
 cumstance of making an attack Avould be some en- 
 couragement to them, and probably some terror to 
 the enemy, who would have had the disadvantage 
 of standing on the defence : a disadvantage with 
 which those wild barbarians (for such most of them 
 were) perhaps would have been more struck than 
 better disciplined troops ; especially, when they 
 fought against the laws of their country too. He 
 also apprehended, that by marching to meet them, 
 some advantage might have been secured with re- 
 gard to the ground ; with which it is nauiral to 
 imagine he must have been perfectly acquainted, 
 as it lay just at his own door, and he had rode over 
 it so many hundred times. When I mention these 
 things, I do not pretend to be capable of judging 
 how far this advice was on the wliole right. A 
 variety of circumstances, to me unknown, might 
 make it otherwise. It is certain, however, that it 
 was brave. But it was overruled in this respect, 
 as it also was in the disposition of the cannon, 
 which he would have had planted in the centre of 
 our small army, rather than just before his regiment, 
 which was in the right wing ; where he was appre- 
 hensive that the horses, which had not been in any 
 engagement before, might be thrown into some dis- 
 order by the discharge so very near them. He 
 urged this the more, as he thought the attack of the 
 rebels might probably be made on the centre of the 
 foot ; where he knew there were some brave men, 
 on whose standing he thought, under God, the suc- 
 cess of the day depended. Wlien he found that he 
 could not carry either of these points, nor some 
 others, which out of regard to the common safety 
 he insisted upon with some unusual earnestness, 
 he dropped some intimations of the consequences 
 which he apprehended, and which did in fact fol- 
 low ; and submitting to Providence, spent the re- 
 mainder of the day in making as good a disposition 
 as circumstances would allow.* 
 
 § 132. He continued all night under arms, wrap- 
 ped up in his cloak, and generally sheltered under 
 a rick of barley which happened to be in the field. 
 About three in the morning he called his domestic 
 .servants to him, of which there were four in waiting. 
 He dismissed three of them with most alTcctionatc 
 Christian advice, and such solemn charges relating 
 to the performance of their duty and the care of 
 their souls, as seemed plainly to intimate, that he 
 apprehended it at least very probable he was taking 
 
 * Several of llicsc circumslancc"! Iiavc since been eon6rmrd liy tlie 
 concurrent testimony of another very credible person, Mr. Roljert 
 DnuRlas, (now a surj^eon in tlw; navy,) wlm was a volunteer at Kilin- 
 burgh just before the rebels entered the place ; wlio saw Coloi ;.l Gar- 
 diner come from Haddinj^on to the field of battle the day before the 
 action iji a chaise, bcinfr (as from that circumstan.c he supposed) in so 
 weak a state that he could not well endure the fatigue of riding on 
 horseback. He observed Colonel Gardiuir in discourse with several 
 officers tiic evening before the engagement ; at which time, it was 
 afterwards reported, he gaie his advice to attack the rebels; and when 
 It was overruled, he afterwards saw the Colonel walk by himself iu a 
 very pensive manner. 
 
 his last farewell of them. There is great reason to 
 believe that he spent the little remainder of the 
 time, which could not be much above an hour, in 
 those devout exercises of soul which had so long 
 been habitual to him, and to which so many circum- 
 stances did then concur to call him. The army was 
 alarmed by break of day by the noise of the rebel's 
 approach, and the attack was made before sunrise ; 
 yet when it was light enough to discern what passed. 
 As soon as the enemy came within gun-shot they 
 made a furious fire ; and it is said that the dragoons 
 which constituted the left wing, immediately fled. 
 The Colonel at the beginning of the onset, which 
 in the whole lasted but a few minutes, received a 
 wound by a bullet in his left breast, which made 
 him give a sudden .spring in his saddle ; upon which 
 his servant, who had led the horse, would have 
 persuaded him to retreat ; but he said it was only 
 a wound in the flesh, and fouglit on, though he pre- 
 sently after received a shot in his right thigh. In 
 the mean time it was discerned that some of the 
 enemies fell by him ; and particularly one man, who 
 had made him a treacherous visit but a few days 
 before, with great professions of zeal for the present 
 establishment. 
 
 § 153. Events of tliis kind pass in less time than 
 the description of them can be written, or than it 
 can be read. The Colonel was for a few moments 
 supported by his men, and particularly by that wor- 
 thy person Lieutenant-Colonel Whitney, who was 
 shot through the arm here, and a few months after 
 fell uol)ly in the battle of Falkirk ; and by Lieute- 
 nant West, a man of distinguished bravery ; as also 
 by about fifteen dragoons, who stood by him to the 
 last. ]Jut after a faint lire, the regiment in general 
 was seized with a panic ; and though their Colonel 
 and some other gallant officers did what they could 
 to rally them once or twice, they at last took a pre- 
 cipitate flight. And just in the moment wlien Colo- 
 nel Gardiner seemed to be making a pause, to de- 
 liberate what duty required him to do in such a cir- 
 cumstance, an accident happened, which must, I 
 think, in the judgment of every worthy and gene- 
 rous man, he allowed a siillicicnt apolr.-gy for ex- 
 posing his life to so great hazard w hen hi.s regiment 
 had left him.* He .saw a i)arly of Ihe foot, who 
 were then bravely fighting near him, and whom he 
 was ordeicd to support, had no officer to head them ; 
 upon which he .said eagerly, in the hearing of the 
 person from whom 1 had this account, " Those brave 
 
 * The Colonel, who was well ac(|iiainled v/itliniilitary history, might 
 possibly remember, that in the b.cllle at lilenheiui, the illustrious 
 Prince ICugene, when the horse <}f the wing he commanded had run 
 away thrice, charged at the head of the foot, and thereby greatly con- 
 tributed to the glorious succesu of the day. At least such an example 
 may conduce to vindicate that noMe ardour, which, amidst all the ap. 
 nlauses of his country, some have been so cool and so critical as to 
 blame. For my own part, I th.auk God that I am not calleil to apolo- 
 gize for his I'otlowing his troops in their flight ; which I fear would 
 have been a much harder task ; and wliich, dear as he w.is to lue, would 
 liave grieved me much more than his death, with these heroic eircum- 
 stancea attending it. 
 
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE 
 
 fellows would bo cut lo pieces for want of a eoni- 
 inaudor ;" or words to that effect; which while he 
 was speaking:, he rode up to them, and cried out 
 aloud, " Fire on my lads, and fear nothin<^." But 
 just as the words were out of his mouth, a Ilij^h- 
 laudcr advanced towards him with a scythe faslened 
 to a lon^ pole, with \\ hich he p,ave him such a deep 
 M ound on his riglit arm, that his sword dropped out 
 of his hand ; and at the same tiuie several otlicrs 
 cominfc about him while he was thus dreadfully en- 
 tanfjled with that cruel weapon, he was dragged off 
 from his liorse. The moment he fell, another High- 
 lander, who, if tlie king's evidence at Carlisle may 
 be credited, (as I know not why they should not, 
 though tlie nidiappy creature died denying it,) was 
 one Macnought, who was executed about a year 
 after, gave him a stroke, cither w ith a broad sword 
 or a Lochaber axe, (for my informant could not 
 exactly distinguish,) on the hinder part of his head, 
 wliieh was the mortal blow. All that his faithful 
 attendant saw further at this time was, that as his 
 hat was falling off, he took it in his left hand, and 
 waved it as a signal to him to retreat ; and added, 
 what were the last words he ever heard him speak, 
 "Take care of yourself;" upon which the servant 
 retired. 
 
 § 154. It was reported at Edinburgh on the day 
 of the battle, by what seemed a considerable autho- 
 rity, that as the Colonel lay in his wounds, he said 
 to a chief of the opposite side, " You are fighting 
 for an earthly crown, I am going to receive an 
 heavenly one ;" or something to that purpose. When 
 I preached the sermon, long since printed, on 
 occasion of his death, I had great reason to believe 
 this report was true ; though before the publication 
 of it I began to be in doubt; and on the whole, 
 after the most accurate inquiry I could possibly 
 make at this distance, I cannot get any convincing 
 evidence of it. Yet I must here observe, that it 
 docs not appear impossible that something of this 
 kind might indeed be uttered by him, as his servant 
 testifies that he spoke to him after receiving that 
 fatal blow, which would seem most likely to have 
 taken away the power of speech, and as it is certain 
 he lived several hours after he- fell. If therefore 
 any thing of this kind did happen, it must have been 
 just about this instant. But as to the story of his 
 being taken prisoner, and carried to the pretended 
 prince, (who, by the way, afterwards rode his horse, 
 and entered upon it into Derby,) with several other 
 circumstances, which were grafted upon that inter- 
 view, there is the most undoubted evidence of its 
 falsehood: for his attendant mentioned above as- 
 sures me, that he himself inmiediately fled to a mill, 
 at the distance of about t« o miles from the spot of 
 ground on which the Colonel fell ; w here he changed 
 his dress, and, disguised like a miller's servant, 
 returned with a cart as soon as possible ; which yet 
 
 was not till nearly two hours after the engagement. 
 The hurry of the action M as then pretty well over, 
 and he found his much-honoured master not only 
 plundered of his watch and other things of value, 
 but also stripjied of his upper garments and boots, 
 yet still breathing; and adds, that, though he were 
 not capableof speech, yet on taking him up he opened 
 his eyes; \\hich makes it something (piestionable 
 whether he were altogether insensible. In this con- 
 dition, and in this manner, he conveyed him to the 
 church of Tranent, from whence he was immediately 
 taken into the minister's house, and laid in bed ; 
 where he continued breathing, and frequently groan- 
 ing, till about eleven in the forenoon; when he took 
 his final leave of pain and sorrow, and undoid)tedly 
 rose fo those distinguished glories which arc reserved 
 for those who have been so eminently and remark- 
 ably faithful unto death. 
 
 ^ ISij. From the moment in which he fell, it was 
 no longer a battle, but a rout and carnage. The 
 cruelties which the rebels (as it is generally said, 
 under the command of Lord Elcho) inflicted on some 
 of the king's troops after they had asked quarter, 
 are dreadfully legible on the countenances of many 
 who survived it. They entered Colonel Gardiner's 
 house before he was carried off from the field; and, 
 notwithstanding the strict orders which the unhappy 
 Duke of Perth (whose conduct is said to have been 
 very humane in many instances) gave to the con- 
 trary, every thing of value was plundered, to the 
 very curtains of the beds and hangings of the rooms. 
 His papers were all thrown into the wildest disorder, 
 and his house made an hospital for the reception of 
 those who were wounded in the action. 
 
 § 156. Such was the close of a life which had been 
 so zealously devoted to God, and filled up with so 
 many honourable services. This v as the death of 
 him who had been so highly favoured by God in the 
 method by which he w^as brought back to him after 
 so long and so great an estrangement, and in the 
 progress of so many years, during which (in the 
 expressive phrase of the most ancient of writers) he 
 had walked with him ; — to fall as God threatened 
 the people of his wrath that they should do, with 
 tumult, with shouting, and with the sound of the 
 trumpet, Amos ii. 2. Several other very worthy, 
 and some of them very eminent, persons shared the 
 same fate, either now in the battle of Prestonpans, 
 or quickly after in that of Falkirk :* Providence, no 
 doubt, permitting it, to establish our faith in the 
 
 * Of those none were more memornbic llian those illustrious brTithers, 
 Sir Robert Munro ami Doctor Munro; whose tragical but glorious 
 fate was also sliared quickly after by a third hero of the family, Cap- 
 t iin Munro, of Culcairn, brother to Sir Robert and tlic Doctor. I 
 tlionsbt of addin;; some account of these martyrs in the cause of 
 liberty and religion in this place; but having had the pleasure of 
 receivinr from some very credible and worthy persons, to whom they 
 were well known, a larger account of tliem and their family than can 
 conveniently be comprehended in a note, I choose to make it a distinct 
 article in the Appendix, Numb. III. by which I question not but I shall 
 oblige every intelligent and generous reader, and I think myself very 
 happy to have it in my power to do it. 
 
LIFE OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 177 
 
 rewards of an invisible world ; as M'ell as to teach 
 us to cease from man, and fix our dependence on 
 an Almighty arm. 
 
 § 157. The remains of this Christian hero, (as I 
 believe every reader is now convinced he may 
 justly be called,) were interred the Tuesday follow- 
 ing, Sept. 24, at the parish church at Tranent; 
 where he had usually attended divine service with 
 great solemnity. His obsequies were honoured 
 with the presence of some persons of distinction, 
 who were not afraid of paying that last piece of 
 respect to his memory, though the country was then 
 in the hands of the enemy. But indeed there was 
 no great hazard in this ; for his character was so 
 well known, that even they themselves spoke honour- 
 ably of him, and seemed to join with his friends in 
 lamenting the fall of so brave and so worthy a man. 
 
 § 158. The remotest posterity will remember for 
 whom the honour of subduing this unnatural and 
 pernicious rebellion was reserved ; and it will en- 
 dear the person of the illustrious duTce of Cumber- 
 land to all but the open or secret abettors of it in 
 the present age, and consecrate his name to im- 
 mortal honours among all the friends of religion 
 and liberty who shall arise after us. And I dare 
 say, it will not be imagined that I at all derogate 
 from his glory in suggesting, that the memory of 
 that valiant and excellent person whose memoirs I 
 am now concluding, may in some measure have 
 contributed to that signal and complete victory w ith 
 which God was pleased to crown the arms of his 
 Royal Highness : for the force of such an exauiple 
 is very animating, and a jiainful consciousness of 
 having deserted such a commander in such extre- 
 mity, must at least awaken, where there was any 
 spark of generosity, an earnest desire to avenge his 
 
 death on those who had sacrificed his blood, and 
 that of so many other excellent persons, to the views 
 of their ambition, rapine, or bigotry. 
 
 § 159. The reflections I have made in my funeral 
 sermon on my honoured friend, and in the dcdic.-v- < 
 tion of it to his worthy and most afflicted lady, 
 supersede many things which might otherwise have 
 properly been added here. I conclude, therefore, 
 with humbly acknowledging the wisdom and good- 
 ness of that awful Providence, which drew so thick 
 a gloom around him in the last hours of his life, that 
 the lustre of his virtues might dart through it with a 
 more vivid and observable ray. It is abundant 
 matter of thankfulness, that so signal a monument 
 of grace, and ornament of the Christian profession, 
 was raised in our age and country, and spared for 
 so many honourable and useful years. Nor can all 
 the tenderness of the most affectionate friendship, 
 while its sorrows bleed afresh in the view of so tra- 
 gical a scene, prevent my adoring the gracious ap- 
 pointment of the great Lord of all events, that when 
 the day in which he must have expired without an 
 enemy appeared so very near, the last ebb of his 
 generous blood should be poured out, as a kind of 
 sacred libation, to the liberties of his country and 
 the honour of his God ; that all the other virtues of 
 his character, embalmed as it w ere by that precious 
 stream, might diffuse around a more extensive fra- 
 graney, and be transmitted to the most remote pos- 
 terity, with that peculiar charm which they cannot 
 but derive from their connexion with so gallant a 
 fall : an event, (as that blessed apostle, of whose 
 spirit he so deeply drank, has expressed if,) accord- 
 ing to his earnest expectation, and his hope, that in 
 him Christ might be glorified in all things, whether 
 by his life or by his death. 
 
 N 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 NUMBER I. 
 
 Relatinff to the Colonel's jjerson. 
 
 In the midst of so many important articles, I had 
 really forgot to say any tiling of the person of 
 Colonel Gardiner ; of which nevertheless it may be 
 proper here to add a word or two. It was, as I am 
 informed, in younger life remarkably graceful and 
 amiable : and I can easily believe it, from what I 
 knew him to be when our acquaintance began ; 
 though he was then turned of fifty, and had gone 
 through so many fatigues as well as dangers, which 
 could not but leave some traces on his countenance. 
 He was tall, (I suppose something more than six 
 feet,) well proportioned, and strongly built ; his 
 eyes of a dark grey, and not very large ; his fore- 
 head pretty high ; his nose of a length and height 
 no way remarkable, but very well suited to his 
 other features ; his cheeks not very prominent, his 
 mouth moderately large, and his chin rather a little 
 inclining (when I knew hiui) to be peaked. He had 
 a strong voice, and lively accent ; with an air very 
 intrepid, yet attempered with much gentleness : 
 and there was something in his manner of address 
 more perfectly easy and obliging, wliich was in a 
 great measure the result of the great candour and 
 benevolence of his natural temper ; and which, no 
 doubt, was much improved by the deep humility 
 which divine grace had wrought into his heart, as 
 well as his having been accustomed from his early 
 youth to the company of persons of distinguished 
 rank and polite behaviour. 
 
 The picture of him* was taken from an original 
 done by Van Deest, (a Dutchman brought into 
 Scotland by General Wade,) in the year 1727, 
 which was the 40th of his age ; and it is said to 
 have been very like him then, though far from 
 
 * Publislied in the original C'ditioii. 
 
 being an exact resemblance of what he was when I 
 had the happiness of being acquainted with him. 
 Perhaps he would have appeared to the greatest 
 advantage of all could he have been exactly drawn 
 on horseback ; as many very good judges, and 
 amongst the rest the celebrated Mons. Faubert him- 
 self, have spoken of him as one of the completest 
 horsemen that has ever been known ; and there was 
 indeed something so singularly graceful in his ap- 
 pearance in that attitude, that it was sufiicient (as 
 what is very eminent in its kind generally is) to 
 strike an eye not formed on any critical rules. 
 
 NUMBER II. 
 Poetical Pieces on the death of Colonel Gardiner. 
 
 So animating a subject as the death of such a man, 
 in such circumstances, has occasioned a great deal 
 of poetry. Some of this has already been publish- 
 ed ; especially one large composition, said to be 
 done by a worthy clergyman in Lincolnshire, in 
 which there are many excellent lines and noble 
 sentiments ; but I rather choose to refer to the piece 
 itself, than to insert any extracts from it here. It 
 may be more expedient to oblige my reader with 
 the following copy of verses, and an elegiac poem, 
 composed by two of my valuable friends whose 
 names are annexed. I could not presume to at- 
 tempt any tiling of this kind myself; because I 
 knew, that nothing I was capable of writing could 
 properly express my sense of his worth, or describe 
 the tenderness of my friendship ; the sentiments of 
 which will (as I assuredly believe) mingle them- 
 selves with the last ideas which pass through my 
 mind in this world, and perhaps with some of the 
 first which may open upon it in that which is to 
 come. 
 
VERSES ON THE DEATH 
 
 OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 179 
 
 VERSES 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 BY THE REV. MK. BENJAMIN SOWDEN. 
 
 (iuis desiderio sit pudor, aut modus, 
 Tam cari capitis? — HOR. 
 
 Could piety perpetuate human breath. 
 Or shield one mortal from the shafts of death, 
 Thou ne'er, illustrious man ! thou ne'er hadst been 
 A pallid corpse on Preston's fatal plain. 
 Or could her hand, though impotent to save 
 Consummate worth, redeem it from the grave. 
 Soon would thy urn resign its sacred trust, 
 And recent life re-animate thy dust. 
 
 But vain the wish. — The savage hand of war — 
 Oh how shall words the mournful tale declare! 
 Too soon the news afflicted friendship hears, 
 Too soon, alas ! confirmed her boding fears. 
 
 Struck with the sound, unconscious of redress. 
 She felt thy wounds, and wept severe distress. 
 A while dissolved in truceless grief she lay, 
 Which left thee to relentless rage a prey. 
 
 At length kind Fame suspends our heaving 
 sighs, 
 
 And wipes the sorrows from our flowing eyes ; 
 Gives us to know thine exit well supplied 
 Those blooming laurels victory denied. 
 When thy great soul suppressed each timid moan, 
 And soared triumphant in a dying groan. 
 Thy fall, which raised, now calms each wild com- 
 plaint. 
 
 Thy fall, which joined the hero to the saint. 
 
 As o'er the expiring lamp the quivering flame ' 
 Collects its lustre in a brighter gleam. 
 Thy virtues, glimmering on the verge of night, 
 Through the dim shade diffused celestial light; 
 A radiance death or time can ne'er destroy, 
 The auspicious omen of eternal joy. 
 
 Hence every unavailing grief! No more 
 As hapless thy removal we deplore. 
 Thy gushing veins, in every drop they bleed, 
 Of patriot warriors shed the fruitful seed : 
 Soon shall the ripened harvest ri.se in arms 
 To crush rebellion's insolent alarms. 
 
 While prosperous moments soothed through life 
 his way, 
 
 Concealed from public view the hero lay: 
 But when afllit^tion clouded his decline. 
 It not eclipsed, but ma^lc his honours shine ; 
 Gave them to beam conspicuous from the gloom, 
 And plant unfading trophies round his tomb. 
 
 So stars are lost amid.st the blaze of day : 
 But when the sun withdraws his golden ray. 
 Refulgent through the ethereal arch they roll. 
 And gild the wide expanse from pole to pole. 
 N 2 
 
 AN ELEGY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF THE TRULY PIOUS AND BRAVE 
 
 COLONEL JAM^S GARDINER, 
 
 fFho u-as slain by the Rebel Forces, September 21, 1745, in the fatal 
 Action at PRESTONPANS. 
 
 BY THE UEV. MR. THOMAS GIBBONS. 
 
 Nam, dum duelli laetior, hostica 
 Opprobriorum murmura viodice 
 
 Excusat ense, barbararum 
 
 Imraortuus aggeribus cohortiim ; 
 Praesecta tandem colla volubili 
 Lapsu reclinat. Sed famuKi prope 
 
 Decusque, praesignisque virtus, 
 
 Semianimera subiere dextra ; 
 Mox, expeditis corpore manibus, 
 Deprceliatrix gloria siderum 
 
 Occurrit, et fulvo reclinera 
 
 Ire jubet super astra curru.— C.\SIMIR. 
 
 I. 
 
 Come, Melancholy, from the stony cave 
 The scope of time for thee has made 
 Under the broad cliff's shade, 
 Upon the naked shore, 
 Where warring tempests roar 
 In concert with the hoarse-resounding wave : 
 Come, but with solemn gait, 
 With trickling eyes, 
 And heavy sighs. 
 And all the scutcheoned pomp of fate : 
 And bring with thee the cypress and the yew. 
 All bathed and dropping with the mortal dew. 
 To this sequestered bower ; 
 And let the midnight hour 
 Be hung in deeper glooms by thee, 
 And bid each gay idea flee : 
 While all the baleful images of woe. 
 That haunt the marble bust. 
 Or hover round sepulchred dust. 
 With conscious horrors all my soul o'erflow. 
 For 'tis no vulgar death 
 Urania means to mourn ; 
 But in doleful strain 
 She bids the harp complain. 
 And hangs the funeral wreath 
 On Gardiner's awful urn. 
 
 II. 
 
 Gardiner, what various fame 
 
 For e\cr crowns thy name ! 
 For is it possible to say, 
 Or if the saint's or hero's ray 
 Siione brightest in that blended blaze, 
 That formed thine ample round of praise. 
 Like Moses on the sacred hill. 
 How hast thou stood with pleading eyes. 
 Outstretching hands, and fervent <;ries. 
 Unwearied wrestler with the skies ' 
 
180 AN ELEG 
 
 Till Ilravon. responsive to thy will, 
 Would all thy largest wishes fill ; 
 Till the hij;h-I)iaiulisheil bolt aside was thrown. 
 And the full Messing; strcanu'd in silver niiMimus 
 down. 
 
 Nor less a Josluia than a Moses thou ; 
 For oft in Liberty's hi<jli strife 
 Hast thou exposed thy {generous life. 
 And with impatient ardours of thy brow. 
 Rushed foreniost in the horrid \;m on fight, 
 nriviiig the troops of Tyranny to llif^ht, 
 Ihishaken in the noble eause 
 To pluek her bloody fangs, and break her iron jaws. 
 
 III. 
 
 When Anna sent her chosen ehief, 
 
 Victorious Marlborough, 
 To Europe's groans to give relief 
 
 In Bourbon's overthrow ; 
 Renowned Rainilia's tented field, 
 Where Gallia dropped her idle shield, 
 And to the British standard kneeled. 
 
 Behold young Gardiner there. 
 Young Gardiner, where the eonibat mowed 
 The falling ranks, and widely strowed 
 
 Destruction and despair, 
 Wielded serene Jiis youthful arms, 
 And, kindling at the dire alarms. 
 Enjoyed the raging war : 
 But here (for steel and flying shot 
 Fall chiefly to the hero's lot,) 
 Swift through his lips the glancing bullet rung. 
 His lips, on which the unfinished oath was hung; 
 
 Nor stopt its winged impetuous force, 
 Till tlirough the neck it ploughed its angry 
 course. 
 
 Amazing thought ! that they who life expose, 
 Where all the thunder of the battle glows, 
 
 Who see pale death triumpliant ride 
 
 Upon the crimson's surging tide, 
 In blasphemy and proud contempt should rise, 
 ■\nd hurl their mad defiance to the skies ; 
 
 Wliither a moment may convey 
 Their souls, dislodging from their quivering clay, 
 To take their last inexorable doom, 
 Big with immortal wrath, and dire despair to come. 
 
 IV 
 
 Such Gardiner was in early youth ; 
 
 And while the warrior's rays 
 Beamed round his head, celestial Truth 
 
 He spurned, and scorned her ways : 
 And though the Almighty arm was near, 
 Made his endangered life its care, 
 
 And healed tlie burning sores ; 
 Yet vice, coUceling w ith his strength. 
 Soon, soon bursts out in wilder length. 
 
 And like a torrent roars. 
 
 ON THE 
 
 Now in the wide enchanting bowl 
 
 The hero melts his manly soul ; 
 
 And now he blots the sliades of night 
 
 With blacker scenes of lewd delight ; 
 Anon in sport he lifts his brow to heaven, 
 
 And swears by the Eternal Name ; 
 Asks that the bolt may on his head be driven, 
 
 And courts the lagging flame. 
 So Pharaoh, when the feverish blains 
 
 No more embossed his flesh. 
 Nor shot infection through his veins, 
 
 Assumed his rage afresh : 
 
 And hard, grew harder still. 
 
 And propped on his wild will. 
 Set up the standard of his pride, [defied. 
 Cursed Israel's God and King, and all his plagues 
 
 V. 
 
 But, Muse, in softer notes relate. 
 
 For softer notes upon thee wait. 
 
 How Gardiner, when his youth liad ranged, 
 
 These guilty scenes, to heaven estranged, 
 Paused in his mid career, and was divinely changed. 
 
 That God, whose piercing radiance darts 
 
 O'er all our ways and all our hearts. 
 The bold transgressor from his throne surveyed, 
 And thus in accents breathing mildness said : 
 " Go, Mercy, charged with my supreme command, 
 Thou fairest daughter throned at my right hand. 
 
 Go, wing thy downward race. 
 And stop that rebel in his furious way ; 
 His heart shall thy victorious call obey. 
 
 And take the w illing stamp of Grace : 
 For never shall thy call successless prove. 
 
 And thou lament thy baffled aim, 
 
 If thou but dart thy chosen flame. 
 Armed with the Savioui-'s energy of love." 
 
 He spoke ; and gave the Almighty nod. 
 
 The sanction of the eternal God : 
 At once the joyful new s is propagated round, 
 Loud anthems from the golden roofs rebound. 
 And heaven's high crystal domes rcmunnur with 
 the sound. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Mercy obeys ; and from the empyreal height 
 
 Precipitates her glittering flight ; 
 A starry circle sparkling round her head. 
 And a wide rainbow o'er her progress spread. 
 
 Muse, sing the wondrous plan. 
 
 And sing the wondrous hour, 
 
 In whicli the Sovereign Power 
 
 The almighty work began, 
 And signalized her arm, and triumphed o'er the man. 
 
 Bent on adulterous shame 
 
 The sinner she beheld ; 
 His bosom burnt with guilty flame. 
 And at the future joy in secret raptures swelled : 
 
DEATH OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 181 
 
 Enraged lie cursed the lazy moon 
 
 In her nocturnal tour. 
 That thought his bliss would come too soon, 
 
 And clogged the midnight hour. 
 ' Twas then, when lust's malignant sway 
 Had stifled conscience' pang, and smothered rea- 
 That Mercy stept between [son's ray. 
 
 The adulterer and his sinful scene ; 
 And painted on his mental sight, 
 Dressed round in beams divinely bright, 
 The Saviour stretched upon the tree, 
 In purple sweats, and dying agony. 
 (Such was the vision, and the blaze the same. 
 
 That Saul, intent on murders, saw. 
 When Jesus, speaking from the radiant flame, 
 O'erwhelmed his conscious soul with awe.) 
 Then thus a voice arrests his ear : 
 " See, Gardiner, see thy Saviour here ! 
 And was this wood 
 Tinged in my blood, 
 And did I languish in these woes for thee. 
 And canst thou plunge these recent wounds in me '." 
 O'erpowered with vast surprise, 
 A prisoner of the skies 
 The swooning champion falls, 
 AnU fear, that never yet his soul had shook, 
 Bedews his limbs, glares wild upon his look. 
 And all his soul appals : 
 But half the agony was unfulfilled. 
 Till Mercy from her crystal urn instilled 
 Fierce on his heart three burning drops ;* 
 
 Drops that from Sinai came, 
 From Sinai, where the Almighty Thunderer forms 
 His shafted liglitnings, and his bolted storms. 
 And from whose boiling tops [llame. 
 The wild sulphureous surge runs down in liquid 
 Stung with the unsufferable smart, 
 
 That festered at his heart, 
 Gardiner awakes, and round he throws 
 His ghastly eyes, and scarce he knows 
 Or if he lives in nature's niiduigiit gloom. 
 Or, closed in hell's unfatlioinablc womb, 
 Black o'er his head eternal horrors roll, 
 And the keen gnawing worm devours his inmost soul. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But when his wandering thought had found 
 
 Himself a tenant of the ground, 
 Still, still his conscience felt the llaming wound. 
 
 Sudden before his prospect glows 
 
 The everlasting gulph of woes ; 
 From the o'erhanging brink he seems to bend, 
 
 (The brink, that crumbled as he stood. 
 
 And nodded o'er the dreadful flood,) 
 And down in headlong ruin to descend [end. 
 To the broad burning waves, and pains that never 
 
 He turns, but ah ! no friendly hand, 
 
 * See Milton's Paradise Lost, b. xj. I. 41 (i. 
 
 Nor spark of glimmering hope, appears 
 Amidst the raging torrent of his fears ; 
 But, outlawed from the realms of shining bliss. 
 He thinks he feels the unextinguished fires, 
 A waving waste of blue ascending spires, 
 And plunges in the bottomless abyss : 
 For, oh ! his sins in crowding numbers stand. 
 And each tempts vengeance from the Almighty 
 hand ; 
 
 But fiercer o'er the rest Ingratitude appears, 
 That scorned the Saviour's love, and flaming honor 
 But while in sad confusion tossed, [wears. 
 
 And tortured with despair. 
 He doomed his soul for ever lost, 
 The bright ethereal Fair, 
 (For 'twa.s her kind design 
 Not to destroy, but to refine,) 
 Amidst the darkness and the storms 
 Her sacred embassy performs ; 
 For guilt displayed in all its frightful dyes. 
 And crimsoned over with redeeming blood, 
 Draws out the rolling anguish from his ejcs. 
 And all his stubborn soul with low submission bowed. 
 'Tis done : O miracle of love ! 
 Not minds below, nor minds above. 
 Great God, can trace thy mystic ways, 
 And pay the equal note of praise. 
 'Tis done. And now with outstretched wings 
 Back to the skies the radiant Power withdrew ; 
 And, as her mounting path she springs. 
 The silver trump of victory she blows. 
 In stronger dyes her arch refulgent glows. 
 And a far-streaming glory tracks the ethereal blue. 
 
 VIIL 
 
 At once abjuring all his sins, 
 Gardiner the heavenly life begins, 
 And pleads the honours of his God 
 With irresistible defence 
 Against the coloured arts of Eloquence, 
 Though clouded with his Makei''s frown, and 
 crushed beneath his rod. 
 But quickly a celestial ray 
 Shot o'er his soul unclouded day. 
 And balmy dews, and blooming life were given, 
 The early antepast of heaven. 
 And now what equal words shall paint 
 How Gardiner, freed from tyrant lusts, 
 Nor longer tossed in passion's gusts, 
 Felt, spoke, and acted all the saint .' 
 That holy name, which he profaned before, 
 Behold him now with suppliant knee adore ; 
 At morn and ev'n his warm devotions rise. 
 Like clouds of incense, fragrant to the skies : 
 No more the grape's nectarcous juice 
 Could tempt beyond a prudent use ; 
 No wanton speech defiled his tongue ; 
 No deed designed his neighbour wrong ; 
 
1*2 
 
 AN ELEGY ON THE 
 
 But tlic fail streams of innocence. 
 Villi um-oiilined benevolence, 
 O'er all his life uninterrupted ran. 
 Anil through their crystal mirrors showed the man. 
 The numerous characters he bore 
 With a distin<;uished praise he wore, 
 And subject, soldier, husband, parent, friend. 
 He blended, and ennobled to the end. 
 Now with seraphic transports fired 
 The pinions of his zeal aspired. 
 Scarce patient till he broke the mortal shell, 
 And bid this empty scene, and dusky globe, fare- 
 well. 
 
 Heaven was his bonie, and to his home he bent, 
 And, ere the rounds of fatal life were spent, 
 Thither his passions would divinely roll, 
 The swift-winced heralds of his coming: soul. 
 Peace at his tent would often light, and sing, 
 And shed the dewy blessings from her wing ; 
 And rills, devolving from the fount above, 
 Poured o'er his heart ecstatic life and love. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Thus Gardiner lived ; till from the gloomy North 
 Rebellion, grasping targe and steelly arms, 
 Rushed, like a mountain boar, impetuous forth. 
 And shook our realms with horrible alarms ; 
 Rebellion aiming at one wasteful sway 
 To strike the diadem from Brunswick's head, 
 Tear Liberty, and all her mounds away. 
 And Popery's o'erwhelming horrors spread. 
 
 The news to Gardiner came, 
 
 And fanned the noble flame, 
 Whicji pure Religion, heaven-born Liberty, 
 
 And dauntless Fortitude had raised ; 
 And as the gathering terrors thundered nigh. 
 With a redoubled strength the mourning fervors 
 blazed. 
 
 What, though distemper had subdued his Hmbs, 
 And age defrauded half the purple streams 
 That bloomed his features o'er, 
 When in rebellion's .storm before 
 He, rising in the glorious cause 
 Of George's rights, and Britain's laws, 
 Swept down the traitorous files, and Preston swam 
 with gore ; 
 Yet his unbroken soul disdains 
 Age's dull load of cramps and pains ; 
 His j outhful rage returns, 
 And for the battle burns : 
 Then springing from Francis.sa's tender arms, 
 Dissolved in flowing tears, 
 O'erwhelmed with boding fears. 
 And only solaced with the view 
 That heaven their friendship would renew , 
 He, in the unshaken confidence of prayer. 
 Sways the keen flame of his revenging sword 
 For his eternal, and his earthly, lord. 
 
 Serenely meets the danger's wild alarm, 
 Plants his embattled force, and waits the rushing 
 So Michael,* bent on glorious fight, [war. 
 Against Satanic rage and might, 
 
 Came towering to the field ; 
 Unconscious of a quivering fear. 
 He saw the foe his dusky horrors rear. 
 Wave his broad flaming sword, and heave his 
 moony shield. 
 
 X. 
 
 Not far from where Edina lifts 
 
 Her towers into the skies, 
 Or where the ocean-bounding cliffs 
 
 In clouded summits rise, 
 Preston extends her humble cots, 
 
 Long, long unknown to fame ; 
 But flying routs, and purple spots, 
 
 Have stamped the eternal shame. 
 Here, here (oh could Time's brazen pen 
 
 Dash the reproach away. 
 Or, as the day returns again, 
 
 Might midnight choke its ray!) 
 
 Britannia's troops in vain 
 
 Opposed the rebel-host. 
 And fled inglorious o'er the plain. 
 Their courage withered and their standards lost. 
 
 Muse paint the doleful scene 
 
 With sighs and tears between ; 
 
 For sighs and tears should rise 
 From every British heart, and gush from all our eyes. 
 
 Swift on the royal van 
 
 The yellow furies ran. 
 Like the wild ocean that has rent 
 Its shores, and roars along the continent ; 
 
 Or the winged lightning's vivid glare 
 Darting along the immeasured fields of air. 
 Confounded at the shock, 
 The yielding squadrons broke : 
 And now (for hell inspired the throng) 
 The gloomy murderers rushed along ; 
 And fierce the steelly blade 
 Its horrid circles played, 
 
 Till hideous cries, 
 
 Quivering sighs, 
 
 Hopeless screams, 
 
 Battered limbs, 
 
 Bloody streams. 
 And universal rout deformed the ground, 
 Laid waste the British strength, and the wide 
 champaign drowned. 
 " Come on, come on !"mad Elcho cries, 
 And for his murders thanks the skies ; 
 (While the Italian from afar. 
 Too soft a soul to mix in war. 
 Enjoying all the guilt, beheld 
 His bloody harpies tear the field ;) 
 
 * See Milton's Paradise Lost, b. vi. 1. 255. 
 
DEATH OF COLONEL GARDINER. 
 
 183 
 
 Ply, ply the thirsty steel, 
 Round the full vengeance wheel ; 
 Each heretic must yield his breath ; 
 That for the Hanoverian brood 
 Or lifts a sword, 
 Or speaks a word ; 
 Come, gorge your souls with death. 
 And drown your steps in blood : 
 Think, think what blissful periods roll behind, 
 Let London's mighty plunder fill your mind. 
 When boundless wealth shall be with boundless 
 empire joined." 
 
 XI. 
 
 Gardiner, with mind elate 
 Above the rage of fate. 
 His country's bulwark stood 
 Midst broken lines of death, and rising waves of 
 His soul disdains retreat, [blood. 
 Though urged by foul defeat ; 
 Now to his scattering friends he calls, 
 To wheel again and charge the foe ; 
 Now hurls the wide-destroying balls, 
 Now deals the vengeful blow. 
 Forsaken and alone, 
 And torn with gashing wounds, 
 He hears the treasonous shout, he hears the loyal 
 groan ; 
 
 But nought the purpose of his soul confounds : 
 And still with new delight 
 He tempts the midmost fight. 
 Propped on his sacred cause, and courage of his own. 
 The embattled ranks of foot he spies 
 
 Without a leading chief. 
 And, like a shooting ray, he flies 
 
 To lend his brave relief. 
 Here the broad weapon's forceful sway, 
 
 Swung with tempestuous hand. 
 Ploughed through his flesh its furious way. 
 And stretched him on the strand. 
 Weltering in gore, with fiery fiends beset. 
 
 The dying Gardiner lies : 
 No gentle hand to wipe the mortal sweat, 
 And close his swimming eyes. 
 The unrelenting crew 
 The hero disarrayed : 
 But, struck at his majestic view. 
 
 Their souls were half dismayed : 
 And, had not hell instamped its hate. 
 Their stony eyeballs o'er his fate 
 Had streamed with human woe; for heavenly mild 
 He o'er their gloomy forms the Christian pardon 
 smiled. 
 
 But not a tear must bathe, or garment shield 
 
 His mangled limbs from .sight, 
 
 Down trodden in the light : 
 While his fair mansion, that o'ertops the field, 
 The naked murder sees, and trembles from its height. 
 
 Still the departing flame of life 
 
 Waved languishing in double strife ; 
 
 Till, such his ser^'ant's faithful care, 
 
 (May Heaven's distinguished goodness crown 
 
 The goodness to his master shown!) i 
 The wheels slow-moving from the scenes of war. 
 
 To Tranent bore the expiring chief. 
 In sullen sounds remurmuring to his grief. 
 Urania, mark the melancholy road. 
 And with thy tears efface the scattering blood ; 
 Nor stop, till on the late reposing bed 
 
 (Oh ! rather 'tis the funeral bier !) 
 You see the hero's pallid body spread. 
 
 And his last anguish hear. 
 
 Half choked with clotted gore, 
 
 He draws the hollow moan ; 
 Flitting his pulse, and fixed his eyes. 
 All pale and motionless he lies. 
 
 And seems to breathe no more. 
 
 Oh ! that's the life-dissolving groan : 
 Farewell, dear man ! for in that pang thy mind 
 Soars to its God, and leaves the clog behind. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Gardiner is dead ! — The bloody trump of fame 
 
 Proclaimed the mighty death ; 
 In every look the posting rumour came. 
 And flew on every breath. 
 The widowed partner of his life 
 
 The doleful tidings hears. 
 And, silent in stupendous gi ief, 
 Her eyes refuse their tears : 
 Oppressed beneath the immeasurable weight, 
 
 Her spirit faints away. 
 As, sympathetic with the hero's fate. 
 It meant to quit its clay. 
 The pledges of his love 
 Their filial duty prove. 
 And each with tender hand uprears, 
 With liands all covered o'er in tears. 
 Their mothei-'s sinking head ; 
 And groan resounds to groan : 
 For oh, the best of husbands gone, 
 The best of fathers dead ! 
 But Gardiner's death is more than private woe, 
 Wide and more wide the increasing sorrows run, 
 O'er British lands unlimited they go. 
 And fly across the seas, and travel with the sun. 
 Religion, that from heaven had bowed 
 To watch the scale of fight, 
 Wlien holy Gardiner fell, 
 Who loved and who adorned her cause so well, 
 Retired behind a crimson cloud. 
 Nor could sustain the sight. 
 Britannia, where she sate 
 Upon the sea-beat shore, 
 To eye the battle's fate. 
 Her silver mantle tore ; 
 
18» ^ REMARKABLE 
 
 Then fluis, lici hlushinu; honours wanned, 
 Her sreptrc (luiverini!; in licr liand, 
 Her laurels withereil, and her head declined, 
 Ten thousand terrors boding in lier mind, 
 Sl»e to the deep in bitter wailinfjs g'rieved. 
 While her fallen hehn the triekliii'V drops received : 
 " What havoc of niy martial force 
 
 Has this sad morn beheld, 
 Torn, gashed, and heaped without remorse 
 
 Upon the naked field ! 
 But Gardiner's death allliets me most, 
 Than whom a chief I could not boast 
 More faithful, vigilant, and brave ; 
 And should across his grave 
 An hecatomb of Highland brutes be slain, 
 They could not recompense his injured ghost, 
 Nor fully quench my rage, and wipe away my stain." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 But see, in splendid state 
 Cherubic convoys come, 
 And waft the hero from his fate 
 To his celestial home. 
 Now, now he sails along, 
 Encircled with the throng, 
 (The throng that clap their mantling wings, 
 And to loud triumphs strike their strings,) 
 Through liquid seas of day 
 Ploughing the azure vvay, 
 Till to the starry towers the squadrons rise. 
 The starry towers, thick sown with pearl and gold, 
 
 Their adamantine leaves unfold, 
 And show the entrance to the empyreal skies : 
 Through them our hero marked his road. 
 And through the wheeling ranks of heaven 
 An unobstructed path was given. 
 Till he attained the eternal throne of God ; 
 A throne that blazed in uncreated beams, 
 And from its footstool gushed unnumbered streams, 
 Streams that in everlasting currents roll. 
 And pour the boundless joy o'er all the expanded 
 soul. 
 
 " Well hast thou done," the Almighty Father spoke ; 
 
 " Well hast thou done," the exalted Jesus cried ; 
 
 " Well hast thou done," (all heaven the eugetook,) 
 
 The saints and angels in their songs replied. 
 And now a robe of spotless white. 
 But where the Saviour's flowing vein 
 Had blushed it with a sanguine stain. 
 Invests him round : in various light, 
 (For such was the divine command,) 
 
 Refulgent on his brows a crown was placed ; 
 
 And a triumphal palm his better hand 
 With golden blossoms graced. 
 Nigh to the seat of bliss 
 His mansion was assigned ; 
 Sorrow and sin forsook his breast. 
 His weary soul was now at rest, 
 
 PARTICULARS 
 
 And life, and love, and ecstasies 
 Unbound his secret powers, and overflowed his mind. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Nor has thy life, heroic man, been spilt 
 Without a wrath proportioned to the guilt ; 
 Enkindled by the cries that rose 
 From thy dear sacred blood, with those 
 
 That shrieked for vengeance from the brave Munros, 
 Who fell a martyred sacrifice 
 To cool remorseless butcheries, 
 
 Heaven sends its angel righteously severe, 
 
 And from the foe exacts the last arrear. 
 For when the barbarous bands. 
 
 Thick as the swarms that blackened Egypt's strands, 
 
 And furious as the winter's rushing rains 
 Impelled by whirlwinds through the plains. 
 
 Had o'er our country rolled, 
 Young William rose, (auspicious name. 
 Sacred to liberty and fame !) 
 
 And their mad rage controlled. 
 Back to their hills and bogs they fled 
 (For terror winged their nimble speed,) 
 
 And howled for help in vain : 
 William pursued, and launched his vengeful ire 
 (As o'er the stubble runs the crackling fire) 
 
 Upon the grovelling train : 
 Shuddering with horror and despair. 
 With bellowing pain they rend the air. 
 Till Culloden's illustrious moor [rebel-i^ore. 
 
 Groaned with the heaps of slain, and smoked with 
 Then, Muse, suppress thy rising sighs. 
 And wipe the anguish frora thine eyes ; 
 Sing, how rebellion has received its doom. 
 How Gardiner dwells in his eternal home. 
 
 And in each British heart has raised a lasting tomb. 
 
 NUMBER III. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF SOME REMARKABLE PARTICULARS 
 CONCERNING THE ANCIENT FAMILY 
 
 OF THE MUNROS OF FOWLIS. 
 
 While I was endeavouring to do justice to the 
 memory of that excellent man, and most beloved 
 friend, whose memoirs I have now concluded ; and 
 was mentioning, in the course of my narration, the 
 tragical consequences which the unnatural rebel- 
 lion, by which he fell, had drawn along with it, and 
 the many other valuable persons of which it had 
 also deprived us; I could not but particularly re- 
 flect on the awful catastrophe of Sir Robert Munro, 
 and his two brothers, the captain, and the doctor, 
 w ho all within the compass of eight months, and 
 
\ 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 in less tlian twelve after the death of Colonel Gar- 
 diner, with whom they were well acquainted, and 
 to whom they were allied in the bonds of a virtuous 
 and honourable friendship, fell a sacrifice to the 
 rage and cruelty of the same savage destroyers. — I 
 was desirous of interweaving so remarkable a piece 
 of history with a subject to which it was, alas ! so 
 nearly connected ; and therefore I applied myself 
 to a person of high rank most nearly related to 
 them, on whose information I was sure I might 
 entirely depend ; entreating the favour of such an 
 account of these three excellent brothers, and of 
 the circumstances of their death, as I might safely 
 and properly offer to the view of the public. 
 
 This honourable person referred me to a gentle- 
 man well acquainted with the historv' of tiie family 
 of the Munros of Fowlis, and possessed of a dis- 
 tinct historical account of it, taken from the annals 
 which have been kept of that family for many ages 
 past, and from the old writs, charters, and other au- 
 thentic deeds, belonging to it, which are the vouch- 
 ers of these annals. 
 
 This gentleman was pleased to favour me with a 
 pretty large historical account of this family, be- 
 ginning it much higher, and carrying it through a 
 much wider extent, than I could have expected 
 from the particular view with which I first request- 
 ed information. — I next obtained instructions on 
 the same subject from a gentleman at London.- — I 
 was then furnished with a particular relation from 
 another gentleman, a [)ious minister of the church 
 of .Scotland, with whom I have the happiness of be- 
 ing well acquainted. And as all these are persons 
 of such a character, that none who know them can 
 question the veracity and testimony of each, so they 
 were each of them happy in a most intimate ac- 
 quaintance with all the three deceased brothers 
 after n-hom I inquired. — At last of all, I received 
 from a fourth gentleman a historical account of 
 this family from the most early times ; which, by 
 the date it bears, was compiled a great many years 
 ago, and which, it seems, was intended to have been 
 published in a historical account of some of the an- 
 cient families of Scotland ; which work became 
 abortive through the death of the author. 
 
 When 1 compared these several accounts, as I 
 received them from time to time, it gave me great 
 satisfaction to find them all agice, and tally so 
 exactly, in their accounts of this family, and of the 
 three excellent brothers last deceased. — On an at- 
 tentive perusal of these informations, I found they 
 contained what was too curious r.nd important to 
 be lost, and yet too long to be inserted in the me- 
 moirs of Colonel Gardiner, without breaking the 
 unity of design in a manner that would have proved 
 inconvenient.— I concluded therefore, that (espe- 
 cially as those memoirs were finished before some 
 of these papers came to my hands) it would be best 
 
 THE MUNROS. 185 
 
 to present it to the world in a distinct piece, con- 
 nected by way of appendix to the former. And 1 
 feel a most sensible pleasure in the addition I am 
 hereby making to the work, as it is paying some 
 little debt of gratitude to the illustrious dead, and 
 at the same time doing a just honour to the surviving 
 branches of a family, from whence so many heroes 
 have sprung, and of wJiich there are still (though 
 after much sad desolation made in it) most worthy 
 remains. And I hope, that it may not only enter- 
 tain my readers with some remarkable facts worthy 
 of commemoration, but excite in their breasts sonle- 
 thing of the same generous spirit, to which nothing 
 can more powerfully instigate the mind than the 
 view of such glorious examples. 
 
 Tlie family of the Munros of Fowlis is among the 
 most ancient and honourable families in the north 
 of Scotland, and has generally been remarkable for 
 a brave, martial, and heroic spirit. It is mention- 
 ed by Buchanan with a memorable testimony,* 
 when, after speaking of the difficulties in which 
 Mary Queen of Scots was involved at Inverness, he 
 adds, " That as soon as they heard of their sove- 
 reign's danger, a great number of the ancient Scots 
 poured in around her, especially the Erasers and 
 Munros ; which (says he) were esteemed among the 
 most valiant of the clans inhabiting those coun- 
 tries." And how well the latter have ever since con- 
 tinued to deserve that character, the following me- 
 moirs, brief as tliey are, may in some degree show. 
 
 Tlie Munros of Fowlis have, in every one of their 
 generations, been intermarried with many of the 
 best families of nobility and gentry in the north of 
 Scotland. And it is yet more for their honour, that 
 they were among the first in those parts that em- 
 braced the Reformation, and have ever since been 
 zealous assertors of it. And many of them have 
 not only given great countenance and encourage- 
 ment to the ministers of the gospel in the parishes 
 under their inlluencc, in consequence of which a 
 great harvest of most eminent Christians hath been 
 produced there ; but also have themselves been sig- 
 nal examples of true piety, and a behaviour in all 
 its branches most ornamental to a Christian pro- 
 fession. — I fear there have been few families to 
 which such a character can be universally applied: 
 but it is certain, that so far as it is the case, it is 
 the most illustrious of all hereditary honours ; and 
 therefore seems to have been mentioned with the 
 utmost propriety by my several correspondents in 
 tills connexion. 
 
 According to Buchanan, it was in the beginning 
 of the eleventh century, and about the time of the 
 conrjucst in England, when Malcolm, tJie I Ind of that 
 name. King of Scots, first distributed, or, as it is 
 
 * AuditoPrincipis I'cricuin, inaKna Priscoriitn Scotornni Multitiiilo 
 affiiit, imprimis Frascrii ct Munroii, homimini rurtissimoiuiu In iWin 
 Guntibus Farailicioe.^ Bucliau. Hist. lib. xvii. p. C18. 
 
18G REMARKABLE 
 
 expressed, feu-ed out, or fcc-ed, the lands of Scot- 
 land to the p-eat IV.niilies thereof, on account of 
 their eminent services in his many battles with the 
 Danes, until he forced them quite out of his kin;;;- 
 dora. And, according; to tradition, it was on that 
 occasion lliat tlie country betwixt the boroufih of 
 l)inj;«all and the water of Alness, in the sliire of 
 Ross, was fjiven to Donald Munro ; and which is 
 therefore to this day called Ferinjjdonald, that is, 
 Donald's Land. And part of these lands were 
 afterwards by the king erected into a barony, called 
 the Barony of Fowlis. 
 
 I shall not follow the annals of this family so far 
 as to entertain the public witli a detail of the barons 
 of Fowlis in their several generations through these 
 early ages, but shall begin my particular narration 
 of them only from the time they became proteslants, 
 when their brave behaviour and example will afford 
 us more instruction, and the facts concerning them 
 may be depended on with more certainty. And 
 therefore I shall only before that time observe, 
 
 Tiiat George, IXth baron * of Fowlis (in a direct 
 lineal descent from the above Donald, the first 
 baron) was slain at the memorable battle of Ban- 
 nockburn, fought by King Robert Bruce of Scot- 
 land against King Edward IL of England, in the 
 j'car i;il4. — George, Xth baron of Fowlis, and son 
 of the former, was also slain witli a great many of 
 his name at the battle of Halidon-hill, near Ber- 
 wick ; in which battle the Scots were defeated by 
 the English, and a great number of them killed, on 
 the 22nd of July, A. D. 1333.— Robert Munro, 
 XVIIth baron of Fowlis, was slain at the battle of 
 Pinkie, near Edinburgh, witli many of his name; 
 where the Scots were again defeated by the English, 
 and a great number of them killed, A. D. 1547. — I 
 mention the fall of these three gentlemen, with their 
 friends and followers, fighting valiantly in the cause 
 of their country, as illustrating the valour and bravery 
 of this family in their difl'crent generations, and 
 showing how justly they merited the character which 
 Buchanan gives them in the place before cited. 
 How long this brave spirit has continued, as it were, 
 hereditary to them, will appear from what follows. 
 
 The first protcstant of this family was Robert 
 Munro, the XVIIItli baron of Fowlis, son to Robert 
 last mentioned, and the same who came to the 
 assistance of Mary Queen of Scots, upon the occa- 
 
 ♦ It is to be observed, (1st,) That baron in Scotlanrl does not import 
 nobility, as it d'»es now in England : for at tlic time the lands of Scot- 
 land were divided as above, there were then no no!)ility in that nation ; 
 but tlie creat famihes liad tlieir estates erected into baronies, with a 
 jurisdiction over all the vassals, tenants, and pos-sessors thereof ; wliich 
 was the orifjin and support of the elans in Scotland, these being the 
 only military force in that kini,'don), until, upon the union of the two 
 crowns in the person of king Janips VI. of Scotland, re;i*nlar troops were 
 introduced into that kingdom.— To this I would add, (2ndly.) That the 
 annals of this family contaiit a geticalo^^ical account of all the barons of 
 Fowlis, from the alw)ve Donald Munro to this present time. Several 
 of these can only be transmitted to ns by tradititni ; but as to those whom 
 I have mentioned, there is full evidence of the tacts concerning them 
 from the old writs, charter.", and deeds, in the family of Fowlis; and 
 even several others of them, whom I have not mentioned, are taken 
 notice of in these old writs. 
 
 PARTICULARS 
 
 sion before cited, A. D. 1562. He embraced the 
 protcstant religion quickly after; and being a wise 
 and a good man, he left an opulent estate to the 
 family, and died A. D. 1588. — He was succeeded 
 by his son Robert Munro, XlXth l)aron of Fowlis, 
 who died the same year with his father. — The next 
 to him was his brother, Hector ISIunro, XXth baron 
 of Fowlis, who died A. D. 1603.— Robert Munro, 
 his son, succeeded him, the XXIst baron of Fowlis, 
 who nourished when Gustavus Adolphus, that justly 
 celebrated king of Sweden, (whose religion and 
 valour were so distinguished among his many 
 religious and valiant contemporaries,) was engaged 
 in a protcstant war against the emperor Ferdinand 
 H. in defence of the civil as well as sacred 
 liberties of Germany. The generous heart of this 
 worthy gentleman was so struck with a regard to 
 the common cause, in which he himself had no con- 
 cern but what piety and virtue gave him, that he 
 joined Gustavus with a very great number of his 
 friends, who bore his own name. Many of them 
 gained great reputation in this war; and that of 
 Robert their leader was so eminent, that he was 
 made colonel of two regiments at the same time, the 
 one of horse, and the other of foot, in that service ; 
 in which he acquitted himself with so much fidelity 
 and zeal, that he died of the wounds wliich he 
 received in crossing the Danube, and was buried at 
 Ulm, in the month of March, 1633. 
 
 He was succeeded by Sir Henry Munro, XXIId 
 baron of Fowlis, the next male heir of the family ,f 
 who was also colonel of a regiment in the same 
 service ; and, upon his coming over to Britain, 
 was created a baronet in June, 1633. Returning 
 afterwards to Germany, he died at Hamburg, in 
 April, 1635. His son. Sir Hector Munro, was 
 XXIIId baron of Fowlis, who died, without issue, 
 in the year 1651, at seventeen years of age. Sir 
 Robert Munro, XXIVth baron of Fowlis, succeeded 
 as the nearest male heir, being grandson to George 
 Munro of Obsdale, who was third son to Robert 
 Munro, the XVIIIth baron of Fowlis. 
 
 My information imports, that in the before-men- 
 tioned annals of this family there is a well-attested 
 list of otlicers, (of which I have a copy in the me- 
 morial last sent me,) wherein there are three gene- 
 rals, eight colonels, five lieutenant-colonels, eleven 
 majors, and aI)ove thirty captains, all of the name 
 of Munro, besides a great number of subaltern. 
 Most of these were in that religious war under the 
 great Gustavus Adolphus; and some of the de- 
 scendants of this family are at this day in possession 
 of considerable military commands in Sweden, and 
 various parts of Germany. 
 
 General Robert Munro (who was uncle to Sir 
 
 + It was formerly the custom in Scotland, and is so still among the 
 ancient families, to entail the succession of their family estate to the 
 nearest male relation of the deceased, passing by the females, thereby 
 to preserve their estates in their own name and family. 
 
CONCERNING 
 
 Robert, the XXIVth baron of Fowlis) publislied, 
 in the year 1644, an account of this religious war 
 nnder Gustavus Adolphus, in a folio volume, en- 
 titled " Military Discipline learned from the valiant 
 Swede:" a book of which (though I never happened 
 to see it) I have heard a high character. I am in- 
 formed that it contains an exact journal of that 
 expedition into Germany for the relief of the dis- 
 tressed protestants ; and it is said to be filled with 
 most excellent observations on military affairs, de- 
 livered in a strain of piety which seems to breathe 
 the spirit of its brave and worthy author. And, 
 indeed, by what I have heard of that instructive 
 history, it is hard to say when there has been, even 
 in the Christian world, so religious and so well dis- 
 ciplined an army as this ; at the head of which a 
 mysterious Providence permitted that royal hero 
 and martyr, the great Gustavus, to fall. Would to 
 God the time might at length come when our com- 
 manders shall take their lessons from it ; at least so 
 far as to learn, from the example of some of the 
 bravest and greatest of men, to maintain in the 
 military bodies under their command the authority 
 of the Lord of hosts ; and particularly that reve- 
 fence for his name and for his day, which was there 
 so beautifully and gloriously conspicuous ! 
 
 This worthy general, in the year lf>41 , was ap- 
 pointed by King Charles I. major-general of the 
 Scotch forces that were sent to Ireland to suppress 
 (be infamous and destructive rebellion there. It is 
 not my business here to insist on those unhappy 
 circumstances which so long retarded their march, 
 and so greatly obstructed their success. I find, how- 
 ever, that he had at length the honour to be in the 
 number of those by whom God gave blood to drink to 
 those miscreants, who had rendered themselves so 
 eminently worthy of it by a series of outrages, m hich 
 the most sanguinary and detestable faction on earth 
 (I mean that of popery) has seldom been able to 
 exceed. For, in the year 1644, this illustrious 
 commander, at the head of 14,000 of the Scotch and 
 English protestants, fought and defeated 22,000 of 
 the Irish in Ulster, killed and took many thousands 
 Of them, and .seized on a great quantity of catllc 
 £knd other provisions, of which the protestants were 
 then in great want. 
 
 The general was a great favourer of the prcsbj- 
 terian interest, and among the first who established 
 it in Ireland. He sat in their presbyteries and 
 synods; and adhered to the interest of the parlia- 
 ment till he apprehended they were carrying mat- 
 ters to an excessive height against the king : on 
 which he accepted of a commission from him, and 
 acted under the Duke of Ormond ; to which he was 
 persuaded by his nephew Sir George Munro, (of 
 whom afterwards,) Mho had always adhered fo the 
 interest of Charles I. as he afterwards did to that of 
 Charles II. 
 
 THE MUNROS. 187 
 
 In the year 1645, the general was surprised by 
 Colonel Monk before he could draw out his men 
 from their quarters ; and he and they were by that 
 means taken prisoners : but he continued not long 
 in their hands ; for death came and set him at liberty 
 soon after. 
 
 It is worthy of our notice by the way, that in the 
 year 1644, we find Monk imprisoned by the parlia- 
 ment for having accepted a commission from the 
 king, and acted in consequence of it, though before 
 that he had acted by commission from the parlia- 
 ment : and again, in the year 1648, we find him 
 fighting for the parliament against the king : and 
 his surprising and taking General Munro, was the 
 first thing that brought him into favour with the 
 parliament. For in that reeling time we find men 
 of a much better character than Monk changing 
 sides again and again, as they apprehended the one 
 party or the other to be in the right, from the many 
 different demands, refusals, and concessions, which 
 then happened between them. 
 
 The General was succeeded in his command by 
 Sir George Munro, brother to the last-mentioned 
 Sir Robert, and both of them nephews to General 
 Robert by his brother Colonel John Munro of Obs- 
 dalc, in the Swedish service : Sir George was also 
 bred in that service with his uncle, and afterwards 
 served with him in Ireland ; where he arrived to 
 the rank of a colonel. He was made major-generaj 
 by king Charles IT. and had a body of forces under 
 his command at Kendal, when James Duke of Ha- 
 milton was defeated by Cromwell at Lancaster, 
 A. D. 1648. Upon this defeat Sir George returned 
 to Scotland, and defeated the Earl of Argyle : and 
 afterwards, his forces being disbanded by order of 
 the states of Scotland, he went to Holland, and 
 joined King Charles II. After whose restoration he 
 was made lieutenant-general and commander-in- 
 chief in Scotland. 
 
 Sir John Munro, XXVth baron of Fowlis, suc- 
 ceeded his father Sir Robert, A. D. 1068. He was a 
 member of the convention of the estates of Scot- 
 land, at the Revolution, and a "very zealous pro- 
 moter of that happy event. He was no less strenuous 
 in asserting presbytery ; and on that account, being 
 also remarkable for a large and corpulent stature, 
 he was nick-named the Presbyterian Mortar-piece. 
 His eminent piety and zeal had exposed him to 
 great sufferings in the cause of religion, in those 
 uniiappy and infamous days, when the best friends 
 to their country were treated as the worst enemies 
 to the government; and when to be conscientiously 
 solicitous to depart from evil made so many thou- 
 sands a prey. Sir John suflercd greatly, among 
 many ofhcrs, of whom the world was not worthy : 
 his person was doomed lo long imprisonment for 
 no pretended cause but what was found against 
 him in the matters of his God; and his estate, 
 
188 REMARKABLE 
 
 which was before considerable, was harassed by 
 severe lines and eonliseations, which reduced it to a 
 diminution much more honourable indeed than any 
 augmentation could have been, but from which it 
 has not recovered even to this day. He died A. 1). 
 HiiM), and was succeeded by his son. 
 
 Sir Robert Munro, XXVTth baron of Fowlis, 
 who succeeded liis father, was also a pious and 
 benevolent man, and for some time a captain : but 
 it pleased God early to deprive him of his sifiht, 
 and to continue him in that condition during the 
 remainder of his life. Under this calamity he 
 calmly subniittcd himself to that God who can shed 
 abroad a far more cheering: light on the soul than 
 these bodily eyes can admit. Providence was 
 pleased to bless him with children, in whom he 
 could not but find the highest satisfaction ; and 
 whose amiable characters in general leave no room 
 to doubt of the tenderness and respect with which 
 they would treat so worthy a parent, under a dis- 
 tressing calamity, which would naturally move com- 
 passion even in strangers. There were four of 
 them who all reached maturity of age, and were 
 the heirs of many blessings, though Providence 
 suffered three of them to fall almost at once, by 
 most unjust and barbarous hands ; Sir Robert, Cap- 
 tain George Munro, and the Doctor, wliose Christian 
 name was Duncan; their only sister, married to 
 Mr. Gordon, of Ardoch, still survives; an example 
 of profound submission and fortitude, mingled with 
 the most tender sensibility of temper. 
 
 Sir Robert Munro, XXVIIth baron of Fowlis, 
 succeeded his father, A. D. 1729. He went early 
 from the university to the camp, where he served 
 seven years in Flanders ; being some time captain 
 in the Royal Scots, before that fatal cessation of 
 arms, A. D. 1712 ; as his late Majesty with so much 
 propriety publicly called it, to which therefore I 
 shall not presume to give either a milder or a severer 
 name. It was here that Sir Robert contracted that 
 acquaintance and strict friendship w ith good Colonel 
 Gardiner, which ran through the remainder oftlieir 
 lives, and of which each was so wortliy. On Sir 
 Robert's return from Flanders, he M as reduced, on 
 account of his inllexible opposition in parliament, 
 (of which he was then a member,) to the measures 
 which the ministry were then taking to subvert the 
 succession in the present royal family, and with it, 
 no doubt, the protestant religion, of which that 
 family w as, and is, under God, the firmest barrier. 
 
 My correspondent observes, concerning Sir Ro- 
 bert, " That he was noted for the countenance he 
 gave to divine worship, both in public and liis 
 family, and for the regard which he always express- 
 ed to the word of God, and its ministers :" and then 
 adds, " That he was sincere in his friendship, and 
 full of compassion even to the meanest of those 
 around him : and that he was remarkable, above 
 
 PARTICULARS 
 
 most, for his activity in the discharge of any ofiicc 
 of friendship, where he had professed it, and for 
 his great exactness in the performance of his pro- 
 mises." 
 
 His military services are particularly worthy of 
 being mentioned here. In the year 1715, he, with 
 his clan, in conjunction with the Earl of Sutherland, 
 kept the Earl of Seaforth, w ith 3000 men under his 
 command, from joining the rcl)cl camp at Perth, 
 for near two months ; and thereby prevented the 
 Earl of Marr from crossing the Fortli till the Duke 
 of Argyle had gathered strength sufficient to oppose 
 him. In consequence of this. Sir Robert exposed 
 his own country to the fiercest resentments of the 
 rebels, by whom it was plundered and destroyed ; 
 while others, who yet pretended to be friends to the 
 government, saved themselves and their lands by 
 capitulations with the enemy. Being then made 
 governor of Inverness, Sir Robert kept 400 of his 
 name there, during the rest of that rebellion, re- 
 gularly paid and regimented: and these, together 
 with some other clans, well affected to the interest 
 of the present royal family, kept possession of that 
 important pass, whereby the rebels were hindered 
 from making a stand there, when they were dis- 
 lodged from Perth by the Duke of Argyle. 
 
 He was, in the year 1716, made a commissioner of 
 inquiry into the forfeited estates of the rebels ; in 
 which he strenuously exerted himself in procuring 
 a number of parishes to be erected through the 
 rebel countries, and provided with suitable stipends 
 out of the confiscated land ; whereby the gospel 
 was preached in places where it had not been 
 preached since the Reformation : so that some new 
 presbyteries were formed in countries where the 
 discipline and worship of protestant churches had 
 before no footing. And such was the compassion 
 and humanity which attempered his high courage, 
 that by his interest with the government he did 
 eminent service to the unfortunate widows and 
 children of such as Imd, to the ruin of their families, 
 been engaged in the rebellion. 
 
 Sir Robert was tliirty years a member of parlia- 
 ment by his family interest ; during which time he 
 always maintained the firmest attachment to the 
 service of his Majesty and his royal father, and to 
 the religion and liberties of his country. His 
 fidelity and zeal for these did not need to be pur- 
 chased, solicited, or quickened, by personal fa- 
 vours : it continued tlirough all this period un- 
 shaken and active, though from the ending of his 
 connnission of inquiry in 1724, till the year 1740, he 
 had no post under the government. He then found 
 the nation was to be involved in a foreign war, the 
 necessity of which was generally apprehended and 
 acknowledged: and therefore, though his friends 
 thought his merit and experience might have pre- 
 tended to something more, as he had been in the 
 
CONCERNING 
 
 rank of a lieutenant-colonel twenty-five years, his 
 heart was too generous and too warm not to accept of 
 the same commission, which was then given him in 
 the Highland regiment. This regiment, when first 
 formed out of independent Highland companies, was 
 under the command of the Earl of Crawford as its 
 colonel, who, all the while he stood in that relation 
 to it, was abroad, confined bj' the wounds he had 
 received as a volunteer against the Turks. During 
 this time Sir Robert Munro was his lordship's 
 lieutenant-colonel. Before it went to Flanders 
 Lord Semple was its colonel ; but he also being 
 generally absent, and Sir Robert an old experienced 
 officer, the regiment during the war was left under 
 his care ; and the manner in which he modelled 
 and conducted it will remain in many respects an 
 immortal honour to his name. 
 
 It is indeed surprising that a regiment composed 
 of Highlanders, who are generally used to so rapa- 
 cious a life at home, should yet by discipline have 
 been brought to so good a behaviour, as that they 
 should be judged the most trusty guards of pro- 
 perty ; and that, when the people in Flanders were 
 allowed a protection for their goods, they should 
 choose to have some of this regiment, among others 
 of the British soldiers, appointed to protect them. 
 This may, indeed, seem hardly credible :* yet my 
 informer assures me, that he had it from an officer 
 of their own of unquestionable credit ; who added 
 further, that it was but seldom he had observed a 
 man among them drunk, and as seldom heard any 
 of them swear. This is very agreeable to the high 
 character which I heard of this regiment from an 
 English gentleman then in Flanders, whose veracity 
 is undoubted, and who cannot, I am sure, be sus- 
 pected of any prejudice here. And among Sir 
 Robert's papers there is still existing a copy of a 
 letter from the Elector Palatine to his envoy at 
 London, desiring him to thank the king of Great 
 Britain, in his name, for the excellent behaviour of 
 the Highland regiment while they were in his terri- 
 tories, " which," as he says expressly, "was owing 
 to the care of Sir Robert Munro, their lieutenant- 
 colonel ; for vvhosc sake (he adds) he should always 
 pay a regard to a Scotchman for the future." 
 
 I the rather mention these particulars, not only 
 as they do an honour to Sir Robert, and his worthy 
 brother, through whose interest, and that of the 
 other oflicers, with the private men, this great re- 
 formation was clTected ; but likewise, as they seem 
 to .show, in a \cry convincing manner, of how great 
 importance it is that some nu-thods be seriously 
 
 * A very worthy person, to wliosc iiispectixii lliis appendix lia^been 
 commiUecl since it was fiiiiKlieil, observes lierc, That thongli tlu: Jli>;li. 
 landers are much addicted lo depredations on tlieir neif{lil)oiirs, vet the 
 very actors even in them are generally as faithful to their triist'as any 
 set of people whatever : and lh.il if his ollicer sliovrs but any degree of 
 eivility and kindness to one of these people, (he fear of disobliging 
 him has a greater influence than that of stripes generally has on others 
 of the common peojilc. This remark I thought proper to insert here, 
 that the repreyeulation of this affair might be as niipartial as possible. 
 
 THE MUNROS. 189 
 
 thought of for breaking the other uncultivated in- 
 habitants of these countries into useful men, by 
 bringing them at once under the protection and 
 discipline of the laws, and enforcing their obedience 
 to them, by teaching them the principles of religion, 
 and the arts of peace and commerce. This is a 
 happy effect, which, methinks, we may naturally 
 hope for from the late rebellion, pernicious as it 
 has in many respects been : considering how much 
 it has reduced them to the power of the government, 
 and how justly obnoxious it has made the chiefs of 
 many fierce and barbarous clans. 
 
 According to my best information, from persons 
 w'ho are most thoroughly acquainted with affairs in 
 the North, the two great springs of rebellion amongst 
 the inhabitants of these Highland countries arc, their 
 idleness and their ignorance. The former subjects 
 them to a slavish dependence on their masters, and 
 is also the cause of their being so addicted to steal- 
 ing ; and the latter makes them a prey to popish 
 priests and missionaries from Rome, who are con- 
 stantly, and in great numbers, trafficking among 
 them. It has been verj' justly remarked, that the 
 success they have in seducing these poor ignorant 
 people is occasioned, in a great measure, by tlie 
 vast extent of parishes in those Highland countries ; 
 some of them being betwixt thirty and forty miles 
 in length, and twenty and thirty in breadth, full of 
 great mountains, rapid rivers, and arms of the sea ; 
 and those parishes which are more moderate in 
 their extent, are about twenty miles in length, and 
 ten or twelve in breadth : and it is every where to 
 be observed through these parishes, that around 
 the place of the minister's residence, the inhabitants 
 are almost all protcstants ; but in the corners which 
 are remote from his residence, they are generally 
 all papists. 
 
 Now it is evident, that these poor people can only 
 be cured of idleness by teaching them manufactures, 
 to whicli they arc wholly .strangers : and it is hard 
 to imagine how they can be rescued from popish 
 ignorance, until there are several new parishes 
 erected in those extensive countries. It would ill 
 become me to pretend to direct the government of 
 Britain on such an occasion ; but I know it to be 
 the opinion of many persons in those parts, of dis- 
 tinguished wisdom and experience, that if it should 
 be thought fit to employ the produce of the estates 
 confiscated by the late rebellion for these valuable 
 purposes, this, with the thousand pounds of his 
 Majesty's royal bounty annually bestowed, would 
 go a good way towards remedying tlicse two great 
 evils, with their train of miserable conseijucnces, 
 which wc have of late so deeply felt. And who 
 would not rejoice to see all these poor people sharing 
 with us fully in all the privileges and advantages of 
 Christians and of Britons .' I pray God to guide 
 and prosper every scheme for this purpose ; and in 
 
iy« REMARKABLE 
 
 this connexion, I cannot but mention, and icconi- 
 uiend, the society for propagating the knowledge ol' 
 religion, and with it the principles of loyalty, in 
 these Highland countries ; ii design, in which so 
 many worthy persons, both in the northern and 
 southern parts of our island, are incorporated ; but 
 their stock is by no means e(|ual to the purposes 
 here mentioned ; and by their constitution, they 
 are confined to the support of schools, which arc 
 indeed going on with great success, as far as the 
 revenue will allow them. 
 
 But to return from this natural, and therefore, I 
 Lope, very pardonable, digression : The behaviour 
 of Sir Robert Munro and this regiment at tlie 
 battle of Fontenoy was heard through ail Britain. 
 He had obtained leave of his Royal Highness the 
 Duke of Cumberland to allow them their old way 
 of lighting. They were early in the held, and were 
 ordered to attack the main battery of the French at 
 the village from which the battle derives its name ; 
 which they did, and drove the enemy from it : but 
 finding the body of the French forces deeply in- 
 trenched behind the battery, they did not give over 
 the charge, but bravely drew up to attack them. 
 Sir Robert, according to the usage of his country- 
 men, ordered the whole regiment " to clap to the 
 ground" on receiving tlie French fire ; and instantly, 
 as soon as it was discharged, they sprung up, and 
 coming close to the enemy, poured in their shot 
 upon them, to the certain destruction of multitudes, 
 and drove thcoi precipitately through their own 
 lines ; then retreating, they drew up- again, and at- 
 tacked them a second time after the same manner. 
 These attacks they repeated several times that day, 
 to the surprise of the whole army. 
 
 Sir Robert was eveiy where with his regiment, 
 notwithstanding his great corpulency ; and when in 
 the trenches, he was hauled out again by the legs 
 and arms by his own men. And it is observable, 
 that when he commanded the whole regiment to 
 " clap to the ground," he himself alone, with the 
 colours behind him, stood upright, receiving the 
 whole fire of the enemy ; and this, because, as 
 he said, though he could easily lie down, his great 
 bulk would not suller him to rise so quickly. 
 
 His preservation that day was the surprise and 
 astonishment, not only of the whole army, but of 
 all that heard the particulars of the action : and 
 my inf(nmation relates, that a most eminent person 
 in the army was heard to say upon the occasion, 
 " That it w as enough to convince one of the truth of 
 the doctrine of predestination, and to justify what 
 King William, of glof ious memory, had been used 
 to say, that 'every bullet has its billet,' or its par- 
 ticular direction and commission where it should 
 lodge." It is atidcd, that on the retreat of our 
 army, the Highland regiment was in the rear ; and 
 a great body of the French horse being ordered to 
 
 PARTICULARS 
 
 pursue, Sir Robeit made his regiment face about, 
 and gave them a general lire, so full and elVectual, 
 that a great number of them being brought to the 
 ground, the rest wlrjeled about and rode oil'. 
 
 But to close what relates to Sir Robert Munro : 
 As an acknowledgment for his brave services at 
 Fontenoy, as well as on former occasions, his 
 Majesty was pleased to appoint him to succeed 
 General Ponsonby, who was slain there in the 
 command of his regiment, which was among the 
 troops that arrived at Newcastle during the rebel- 
 lion, and made a part of General Wade's army. 
 They were afterw ards ordered to Scotland ; and 
 being upon the left wing at the battle of Falkirk, 
 on that fatal day, the 17th of January, 1745-G, thpy 
 shamefully left their brave colonel and lieutenant- 
 colonel, with live or six more of their oflicers, to be 
 cut in pieces. 
 
 By the account which the rebels themselves give 
 of Sir Robert, he defended himself against six of 
 them with his half-pike, and killed two of their 
 number ; upon which, a seventh came up, and (as 
 they expressed it) poured a shot into his belly, 
 which brought him immediately to the ground. In 
 this dreadful moment, in the midst of all this extre- 
 mity, his brother. Doctor Munro, whom the warmest 
 instances of his friends could not divert from expos- 
 ing his person in defence of his country, and who was 
 near at hand, ran to him to support him, attended 
 by his servant and the surgeon of the regiment ; 
 but they were all murdered on the spot, in the most 
 barbarous manner, by those cruel men. 
 
 Sir Robert's body was ihr. next day sought out ; 
 and his face was so cut and mangled by these 
 savages after he fell, that it could scarce be known. 
 He was found, and buried honourably in the church- 
 yard at Falkirk, by the Macdonalds, who, though 
 engaged in rebellion against their lawful sovereign, 
 could not but pay some public regard to the me- 
 mory of so valiant a man, the principal persons 
 among the rebels attending him all the way to the 
 grave. 
 
 And thus fell these two brave brothers, for the 
 Doctor undoubtedly deserves that title with Sir 
 Robert, who, though professing the peaceful art of 
 medicine, adventured himself amidst the most 
 visible danger, fired with love to his illustrious 
 brother ; and attempting in vain to bring him some 
 aid in his last extremities, amidst armed enemies, 
 expired with him, no less lamented than he by all 
 that intimately knew him. How just fliat lament- 
 ation was, will appear from the accounts which I 
 have had of the Doctor's character from his most 
 intimate friends, which I here subjoin. 
 
 He was a gentleman of an excellent understand- 
 ing, and had a brightness and solidity in his genius 
 which are not often united ; but wliich, when they 
 occur, do greatly illustrate each other. He had 
 
CONCERNING 
 
 been bred up to the study of medicine and surgery, 
 which in Scotland are frequently joined, as they 
 have so great an affinity. " He had a large stock 
 of knowledge, not only in his own profession, but 
 in most parts of polite literature. But these (adds 
 my correspondent) I hold cheap, when compared 
 to the goodness of his heart. His greatest study 
 was to know himself ; and I verily believe, that 
 since the early ages of Christianity, there has not 
 appeared a more upright person." 
 
 He spent a great many years in the East Indies, 
 and had most accurately and diligently inquired 
 into the manners, customs, arts, and manufactures 
 of the natives, and into the produce and commodi- 
 ties of the country ; so that he was much more 
 capable of giving entertainment to persons of 
 curiosity in such tilings, than travellers commonly 
 are ; and his veracity was such, that all who knew 
 him could entirely depend upon whatever he re- 
 ported as on his own knowledge. To all these ad- 
 vantages, was added a memory remarkably tena- 
 cious of every circumstance with which he charged 
 it ; but perhaps it was a loss to the world that it 
 was so, as it hindered him from committing many 
 extraordinary things to writing, which might have 
 afforded improvement, as well as delight, to the 
 public. 
 
 The want of .such memoirs from so able a hand 
 is the more to be regretted, as his remarkable 
 modesty did not permit him to talk much in com- 
 pany. One might spend a good deal of time with 
 him without perceiving, by any hints from hira, 
 that he had ever been out of Britain : but when his 
 friends seemed desirous of information on any of 
 these topics, as they fell in his way, he communi- 
 cated his observations upon them with the utmost 
 freedom, and gave them the greatest satisfaction 
 imaginable ; of which some remarkable instances 
 happened at the houses of persons of very consider- 
 able rank, who paid him that respect which he so 
 well deserved. 
 
 It was the more to be desired, that he should 
 have left behind him some written memoirs of his 
 own remarks and adventures, as he was a most at- 
 tentive observer of divine Providence, and had ex- 
 perienced many singular instances of it. One is so 
 remarkable, that it claims a place here, brief as 
 these hints must necessarily be. — After he had con- 
 tinued eight or ten years in the East Indies, he was 
 shipwrecked on the Malabarian coast, as he was on 
 his passage home : he saved his life on a plank, but 
 lost all his eflects, except a small parcel of dia- 
 monds. This ruinous calamity, as it seemed to be, 
 obliged him to return to Fort St. George, where he 
 experienced, far beyond what he could have ex- 
 pected, the extraordinary friendship of several 
 English gentlemen of that settlement; and felt the 
 solid eflects of it, as by their as.si.stance he acquired 
 
 THE MUNROS. ' 191 
 
 much more in six or seven years following (for his 
 whole stay in that country was about sixteen years) 
 than he had lost by shipwreck ; and when he left 
 the settlement, he had all sort of encouragement 
 offered him to induce him to stay ; but his health 
 and other circumstances obliged him to return 
 home. 
 
 This return (which happened, if I mistake not, 
 about the year 1726,) was a happy providence to 
 many ; for, as he was remarkably successful in both 
 the branches of the peculiar profession, he took 
 great pains in both ; and, as he did this without fee 
 o*- reward, when he was satisfied the circumstances 
 of the afflicted needed such assistance, lie was an 
 instrument of saving many limbs, and many lives, 
 which must otherwise in all probability have been 
 lost. 
 
 To this account I must beg leave to add what an- 
 other of my correspondents writes to me concerning 
 the Doctor in the following words : " As we were 
 often by ourselves, I still found him inclined to turn 
 our discourse to spiritual subjects, concerning God 
 and religion, the offices of the great Redeemer, and 
 the power of God's Spirit in converting and sancti- 
 fying the souls of men, and the hope of eternal life 
 through Christ." I transcribe the passage thus 
 particularly concerning this pions physician, as I 
 esteem it, in one view, a peculiar honour to him, 
 Lnd permit me to say, in another, to the profession 
 itself: blessed be God, that though it is so rare a 
 case, yet there are those of that learned body who 
 are not ashamed of the gospel of Christ ; but who, 
 knowing it to be true on incontestable evidence, 
 and having felt (what one would imagine every 
 rational creature who believes it to be true must im- 
 mediately see) its infinite importance, have steadily 
 determined to submit to its inlluence, and to main- 
 tain its honours in the midst of all the scorn and de- 
 rision of their infidel brethren ; a determination 
 which perhaps requires no less courage, especially 
 in some tempers, than that generous instance of 
 fraternal love which will entail such lasting glory on 
 the memory of Doctor Muiiro. 
 
 There yet remained one valiant brother of this fa- 
 mily, whom Providence reserved for a few months, 
 before he .shared the fate of the other two. The per- 
 son I mean was Captain George Munro, of Culcairn, 
 Esq. of whom I have conceivcjl such an idea, from the 
 account of him wliich has been put into my hands, 
 that I cannot forbear wishing the world were bless- 
 ed witli a much larger narrative of his life and cha- 
 racter than my instructions will furnish out, or 
 than I should have room to insert in such an ap- 
 pendix as this. Much do I regret that Providence 
 never favoured me with an opportunity of being 
 personally acquainted with him, especially as I 
 have reason to believe, from what my friends in the 
 North write, that he had the like disposition towards 
 
lO-l REMARKABLE 
 
 fonnin}^ a fiiomlsliip with mo, as prmliiccd so quick 
 a irrowth ol" it in the Ineast of Colonel (jardincr; 
 whom, on the whole, Captain Munro seems to have 
 resembled almost in every part of his character, 
 takiiin' it as it was since that happy change whicli 
 I have so larsjely described in the forcgoinj;; me- 
 moirs : but what was wantins;- in my personal know- 
 ledge, issu|)iilied by a larfje and animated aocouiit 
 from my correspondents, who had the best oppor- 
 tunity of knowing them, and upon whose informa- 
 tion I can safely deiiend. 
 
 Captain George Munro was the second brother of 
 the family ; the Doctor being tlie youngest son. 
 He, like the other gentlemen, had the advantage of 
 a very liberal education, and soon discovered marks 
 of a good genius, which might have qualilicd him 
 for making a figure under any character in tlic 
 learned world. JJcsides the other branches of lite- 
 rature, common to all the professions, he acquired a 
 stock of theological know ledge ; and before he w as 
 seventeen years old he was well acquainted with 
 ecclesiastical histor}', so as to be able to give a good 
 account of the advance and decline of the Christian 
 interest in various ages and countries, and the de- 
 grees and manner by ^^hich tlie corruption and re- 
 formation of tlie church had been introduced, esta- 
 blished, or obstructed. I tlie rather mention this, 
 as it seems to be an accomplishment of great impor- 
 tance ; on which account I much wonder that the 
 generality of young gentlemen should think it so 
 little worth attending to ; and I wish I could saj', 
 that all who are intended for tlic ministry were so 
 careful in pursuing it, as its usefulness and its abso- 
 lute necessity to them miglit demand. 
 
 But his taste and talents particularly lay for a 
 military life ; and in the year 1715 he behaved him- 
 self with great courage and activity during the 
 whole course of that rebellion ; and after the dis- 
 persion of the rebels he was employed in reducing 
 the inhabitants of those Highland countries and the 
 adjacent isles to a submission to the govornmcnt. 
 
 In the year 1719, when, on occasion of the inva- 
 sion from Spain, General Wightnian, with the 
 troops under his command, had waited long at In- 
 verness for a body of Highlandmen to conduct the 
 troops through the mountains to Glenshiel, where 
 the Spaniards and rebels were encamped ; and 
 w hen many promises of such assistance made to the 
 general liad failed, Sir Robert Munro being then 
 out of the country, his brother the Captain (of whom 
 we now speak) assembled in a most expeditious 
 manner a body of the Munro clan, and marched 
 with the regular troops to Glenshiel ; where (hey 
 distinguished themselves by the gallantry of their 
 behaviour, driving tlie enemy before them in a sharp 
 action, in which many of them were killed, and 
 more wounded ; and among the rest the Captain 
 himself, in a very dangerous manner. He liad, Iiow- 
 
 PARTICULARS 
 
 ever, the satisfacition to sec these foreign invaders, 
 and their rebel abettors, totally routed and dis- 
 persed, on the Pretender's birth-day, June 10 : and 
 though his constitution sulTered much by the loss of 
 his blood on this occasion, yet it pleased God to 
 recover him for further service to his country. 
 
 As he still continued vigorous and active in the 
 service of the government, he obtained the command 
 of one of the independent companies then in the 
 national pay ; and when they were afterwards regi- 
 mented and sent to Flanders, he attended them 
 thither, and continued in the public service till the 
 year 1744 ; when he became so exceedingly asth- 
 matic, that he could not breathe in the Flanders 
 air : on which General Wade not only allowed him 
 to sell his commission, but, out of compassion to 
 his distress, joined his brother Sir Robert in obliging 
 him to do it, and to return home ; to which at length 
 he submitted, though not without regret, and there- 
 upon returned to his domestic scat at Newtown in 
 Ross-shire, in the view of spending his days with 
 his family and friends in a peaceful retreat. But 
 Providence determined otherwise, and had reserved 
 for him further labours of a military life, in which 
 it had appointed him gloriously to toil and fall, 
 after services which might have done an honour to 
 bis most vigorous and active days. 
 
 The late wicked and unnatural rebellion broke 
 out soon after his arrival ; and the danger of his 
 country, and its civil and religious constitution, 
 gave him at once a new stock of life and spirits. 
 
 When General Cope came to Inverness, and had 
 been assured of being joined by a number of High- 
 landers, to conduct him and his small army through 
 the rebel countries between that town and Aber- 
 deen, Captain Munro, with 200 of his brother's 
 elan, were indeed the only persons that were found 
 willing to perform the promises that wore made by 
 several others. He marched with the General di- 
 rectly to Aberdeen, from whence he was ordered to 
 return home ; in which return he was under the ne- 
 cessity of marching through a great number of the 
 rebels under the command of Gordon of Glenbucket, 
 who lay on tlie road to attack the C;;ptain and his 
 party; but Glenbucket, finding that the Captain 
 was determined to dispute every inch of ground 
 with him, retired, and allowed him to proceed with- 
 out disturbance to Inverness. 
 
 Not long after that tlic Earl of Loudoun sent 
 Cajitain Munro, in conjunction with the Laird of 
 Macleod, w ith a body of men, to relieve the city of 
 Aberdeen, and the neighbouring country, then 
 greatly oppressed by the outrages committed upon 
 them by Lord Lewis Gordon, and the rebels under 
 his command. Accordingly the Captain and Macleod 
 proceeded as far as Inverury, a small town a few 
 miles west of Aberdeen, where they halted to re- 
 ceive intelligence; and, from the narrowness of the 
 
CONCERNING 
 
 place, they were obliged to quarter a great number 
 of their men in distant places through the adjacent 
 country. In the mean time, a considerable rein- 
 forcement from the main body of the rebel army, 
 which then lay at Perth, was sent under the com- 
 mand of a French officer, supported by their piquets 
 and Irish brigades ; by the assistance of which 
 Lord Lewis attempted to surprise and cut off the 
 Captain and his whole party. In this view they 
 were moving towards Inverury, in the dusk of the 
 evening, after Captain Munro and Macleod had 
 sent their men through the country to their quarters ; 
 but though there was not such good intelligence 
 provided as might have been wished, they were 
 providentially discovered at such a distance, that 
 Captain Munro and the Laird of Macleod had time 
 to draw up the men they had in the town of Inverury, 
 in so regular a manner, that, in consequence of it, 
 they gave the enemy such a warm reception, attack- 
 ing them at once in front and flank, that many of 
 them were left dead in the field. The brave Cap- 
 tain and his associate continued very sedate, intre- 
 pid, and active during the heat of the skirmish, till 
 at last, being overpowered bj" far superior numbers, 
 they thought it advisable to retire ; and brought ofl" 
 their party safe and in good order, excepting some 
 few who had been killed or taken prisoners. 
 Among the latter was Mr. Adam Gordon, of 
 Ardoch, nephew to Captain Munro, who was seized 
 by the rebels, and treated with a deal of rigour and 
 severity for a considerable time, while detained in 
 their power: but they did not presume to pursue 
 the rest ; and the young gentleman at length made 
 his escape, to the great joy of the family ; being, I 
 hope, reserved by Providence to tread in the steps 
 of his heroic uncles, and to bless his country with 
 some considerable future services. 
 
 Upon the retreat of the rebels northward before 
 his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, the 
 Earl of Loudoun had not sufficient strength to main- 
 tain his possession of Inverness against them : 
 whereupon he, with the Lord President and Cap- 
 tain Munro, retreated to the shire of Sutherland, 
 proposing to defend themselves there until the 
 season allowed his Royal Highness to march the 
 troops to Inverness. But in this interval, the rebels 
 having spread themselves through the shires of In- 
 verness, Murray, and Ross, they got possession of a 
 great many boats ; by the help of which they trans- 
 ported a great part of their body to the Sutherland 
 coast, under the covert of a very thick fog. Upon 
 which the Earl of Loudoun, with the Lord President 
 and the Captain, were obliged to retreat, through 
 the western parts of Ross, into the Isle of Sky ; 
 where they continued until the rebel army was 
 broke and dispersed at the battle of Culloden. 
 
 I have been the more particular in this narrative 
 of the Captain's conduct during the rebellion, as if 
 o 
 
 THE MUNROS. 193 
 
 gives some light into the situation and transactions 
 of the friends of our constitution in those parts at 
 that time : and my information assures me, that the 
 facts are taken from persons of undoubted veracity, 
 who were present with the Captain in his march to 
 Aberdeen with General Cope, and in his return from 
 it ; and who were with him in the skirmish at In- 
 verury, and were afterwards witnesses of his death. 
 
 Upon his return from the Isle of Sky he was con- 
 stantly employed in expeditions through the rebel 
 countries of great extent, to reduce them to a sub- 
 mission to the government ; which he performed 
 with diligence and zeal, but still with the greatest 
 humanity. This the rebels themselves must acknow- 
 ledge ; as he never did the least injury to any man, 
 and in all that vast circuit which he made through 
 these distant countries, he neither himself seized, 
 nor allowed those under his command to seize, any 
 thing but arms : and yet, notwithstanding all ttiis 
 humanity, his diligence and zeal had been such in 
 the whole of this rebellion, as rendered him ob- 
 noxious to the rage and revenge of the rebels, who 
 had vowed his destruction upon the first opportu- 
 nity ; and because they had not courage to face 
 him, they had recourse to the base method of assas- 
 sination, which was effected on the Lord's day, the 
 31st of August, 1746. He was then on a long and 
 necessary march at the head of oOO men, on the side 
 of Locharkey, amongst the wild rocks of Lochaber ; 
 where, as he was passing by the side of a wood, 
 between the advanced guard and the main body of 
 his men, he was shot dead by a villain who conceal- 
 ed himself behind the trees and rocks in the wood, 
 and who, by the advantages of that situation, got 
 off without being discovered, and has never since 
 been found out : an event to the Captain, no doubt, 
 most happy ; and a blessed kind of instantaneous 
 translation to the regions of endless peace and 
 triumphant joy ; but to all who loved the public, not 
 to be mentioned without the tcnderest sensibility 
 and deepest regret. ^ 
 
 One of my correspondents on this occasion con- 
 cludes his accounts of the deaths of Sir Robert, the 
 Doctor, and the Captain, in these words : "Thus 
 died these three worthy men, to the irreparable loss 
 of the country in which they lived ; all of them 
 remarkal)lc for a brave spirit, full of love to their 
 native land, and of disinterested zeal for religion 
 and liberty ; faithful in their promises, stcdfast in 
 their friendship, abundant in their charity to the 
 poor and distressed; moderate in their resentments, 
 and easy to be reconciled ; and especially remark- 
 able for their great and entire love to each other, so 
 that one soul seemed, as it were, to actuate all the 
 three."* To which it might have been added — 
 
 * The intimacy of their friendship, though chiefly founded on a simi. 
 larity of character, might perhaps Ix? further promoted by tlicir lieini; 
 >o nearly of the same ige ; Sir Robert was born August 24, 1G84 ; llie 
 
KEMAUKABLE P 
 
 ARTICULARS, &c. 
 
 blessctl will) a sistor, not unworthy to make the 
 fourth person in such a iViendship. 
 
 My other correspondent, in his character of the 
 Captain, speaks in this manner : " The great 
 foundation of all his other virtues was laid in a most 
 sincere and stedfast regard to the Supreme Being. 
 He carefully studied tlic great doctrines of our holy 
 religion, which he courageously professed, and, as 
 it was requisite, defended, in whatever company he 
 might be east: he did tliiswith the greater freedont, 
 as his practice was alw ays agreeable to it ; and in 
 paitieular bis regard, both to the book and to the 
 day of God. He had from his infancy been trained 
 up in an acquaintance with the Scripture ; and lie 
 daily perused it w ith pleasure, and doubtless w ith 
 advantage. And, though the natural elieerfulness 
 of his temper inclined him on other days to facetious 
 turns in conversation, yet on the sabbath he was not 
 only grave and devout, but carefully attentive that 
 all his speech might tend to edification, and as far 
 as possible minister grace to the hearers. He was 
 exemplary in the social virtues, temperate in the 
 use of food and sleep, and rose early for devotion 
 (wherein, as in many other respects, he remarkably 
 resembled his beloved friend Colonel Gardiner). 
 He w as also thoroughly sensible how much a faith- 
 ful discharge of relative duties is essential to the 
 character of a Christian. He approved himself, 
 therefore, as a brave and vigilant officer, a most 
 active and faithful servant of the crown, and a true 
 
 Captain, Sfptcniber 18,1685; and the Doctor, September 1!), 1G87. 
 Sir Ilobert tlierefore was slain in his sixty .second year; the Captain 
 ic Uis sixty.first ; and the Doctor in his fitty-niuth. 
 
 patriot to his country in the worst of times ; and in 
 domestic life was exemplary as a Inisband, a father, 
 and a master. He was a most allectionate brother, 
 a faithful friend, a constant benefactor, and a sure 
 patron of the oppressed ; and, to crow n all, was at 
 last in ell'eet a martyr in the cause of that religion 
 he had so eminently adorned, and of those liberties 
 he had so long and bravt ly defended." 
 
 It must give a sensible pleasure to every reader, 
 who enters into these things w itii a becoming spirit, 
 to rellect, that, notwithstanding these unparalleled 
 and irreparable losses, this family, which has been 
 long celebrated for so many worthy branches, is not 
 yet extinct ; but that both Sir Robert Munro and 
 the Captain have left those behind them who may 
 not only bear uj) the name, but, if they answer the 
 hopes which in the opening of life they give to their 
 country, may add new honours to it. 
 
 I hope the reader will not lay dow n this narrative, 
 which is now brought to a close, without deriving 
 some useful lessons friun tlie remarkable train of 
 Providence which this Appendix, as well as the 
 preceding Memoirs, ofl'cr to his observation. And 
 the more he enters into these lessons, the more will 
 he be disposed to lift up his wishes and prayers to 
 God for those valuable remains, both of Sir Robert 
 Munro's and of Colonel Gardiner's family, which 
 may yet be w ithin the reach of such addresses ; that 
 God may graciously support them in their sorrows, 
 and that all the virtues and graces of the illustrious 
 dead may live in them, and in their remotest poste- 
 rity. Amen ! 
 
SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 or THE 
 
 REV. THOMAS STEFFE. 
 
 PREFIXED TO 
 
 A VOLUME OF SERMONS PUBLISHED AFTER HIS DECEASE. 
 
 TcXcicD^eif £v oXtyv cnXyjpairc xoov>ii fiaKput. Apcs»i yap r]v Kvpt(a n '^I'XI aura" 3ia rttro ccncvtTcv.~S\P. iv. 13, H. 
 
 o 2 
 
TO THE REV. MR JOHN BARKER. 
 
 Reverend and dear Sir, 
 
 If the dedication of a book be any token of gratitude and respect, or the patronage of it any instance 
 of generosity and favour, you have the justest title to this volume in one view, and I the greatest en- 
 couragement to address it to you in the other. I know, Sir, that to enlarge on these topics, would, to a 
 gentleman of your character, be making a very disagreeable kind of return. But you will allow me to 
 let the world know, that I am inscribing these posthumous sennons of Mr. Steft'e to one of the best of 
 his friends, as well as of mine ; and to him, to whom, had he been engaged to publish them himself, he 
 would surely have chosen to present the first-fruits of his labours. And permit me, Si-r, thus publicly to 
 thank you for all the pleasure you gave me in au opportunity of culti\ating the mind of so worthy a 
 youth, and for the foundation which you laid for that excellent example he gave, as well as for the wise 
 and pious instructions he delivered in circumstances and relations of life, which, unsupported by your 
 bounty and care, it is probable he had never known. You, Sir, discovered this promising plant in its 
 tenderest state, and presented it to the garden of God ; and though we must not arraign the wise hand 
 that removed it, every one will own it reasonable that these eaily, yet pleasant and \^ liolesomc, fruits 
 which dropped from it should be presented to you. And I persuade myself, Sir, that, though they are 
 not ripened to all that height of beauty and of flavour which a maturer growth might have given them, 
 you will receive them with candour; and, indeed, I am not without some cheerful hope, that they may 
 afford you both delight and nourishment. 
 
 When I intimate that Mr. Barker may not only be entertained, but edified, by the productions of our 
 young friend, I might seem to speak with too little caution, and to raise an expectation which a prudent 
 friendship will always avoid, when it would introduce persons or books into the world w ith advantage. 
 But it is the happiness of great wisdom and goodness (I had almost said it is a part of its reward) to be 
 entertained and edified by the writings of those who are much its inferiors, and most readily to exercise 
 an indulgence which itself least needs. In this view you. Sir, would have read these Sermons with 
 pleasure had they been the work of a stranger; but you cannot, and I think you ought not, to forget, 
 that you were, through the divine goodness, the instrument of giving them to the world. Aiul you will 
 be quickened to renew your bounties of this kind, and a more important kind is not easily to be named, 
 when you so sensibly perceive that, short as the date of our friend's life was, your labour, with regard to 
 its present effects, hath not been in vain in the Lord. 
 
 They who know the relation in which I stood to Mr. StefTe, will readily believe that I have some pecu- 
 liar share in your joys on such an occasion ; but if there were not such a distinguishing tie, as in the 
 present case, I must be insensible to a long train of personal obligations, if I did not aflcctionately take 
 my part in all your satisfactions and joys. I bless God that they arise from such a variety of springs ; 
 that they swell into so full a stream ; and, above all, that they are so faithfully and so constantly returned 
 back to him from whom they originally proceed. 
 
 I do. Sir, in my conscience, apj)rcliend that, when addressing the ministers of the gospel, there is 
 seldom reason to congratulate them on their distinguished circumstances in temporal life. When the 
 more abundant gifts of the divine bounty seem to be received, as if, like those given to the Hebrew 
 servants, they were a part of the ceremonial of their dismission from their Lord, they are indeed tlic 
 calamity rather than the happiness of the proprietors, be they ever so copious, or ever so splendid. That 
 is really a poisonous draught, be it ever so luscious, whicii intoxicates the mind, and lulls it into a f'or- 
 getfulness of the interest of Christ, and of immortal souls. But where allluciit circumstances arc con- 
 sidered as an engagement to serve God with greater cheerfulness and zeal in the abundance of all 
 things; where the possessor c^onsidcrs himself as the steward of God in temporals as well as spirituals, 
 an<l !is the almoner who is to distribute the divine bounties to his indigent brethren, whether ministers 
 or private Christians ; and where all this is done in the easy, ciieerful, endearing manner of a heart that 
 feels how much more blessed it is to give than to receive: this. Sir, is a most grateful spectacle, not 
 only to the eye of an intimate and obliged friend, but of a stranger who understands any thing of the 
 beauty of character ; and is, I (tou))t not, venerable, as well as amiable, in the eyes of those celestial 
 
198 TO THE REV. MR. JOHN BARKER. 
 
 spirits from \\ liom it seems to be copied. Hiininn aeknow ledfvmenls on sucli an oceasion arc little tliinf>s 
 to the voire of an approxing conscience and an approvin;? (Jod. I hope, therefore, Sir, that tlie 
 many, whose liiirdens (to my certain know ledfje) yon liave cased, and wliose Iiearts yon liavc g:laddencd, 
 will express their gratitndc in a nohler way, by cndcavourinj!: to serve the pnblie witli greater alacrity, 
 while they are freed from the cneund>rances which must otherwise have depressed and broken their 
 spirits'. 
 
 I heartily bless God, that while fi;ood Mr. Barker is possessed of these pleasures, which so few of his 
 brethren in the (!issentin<; ministry can have, lie also shares with tlic most acceptable, and I hope I 
 may add, the most suecessfnl, of tiietn, in those which immediately arise from the exercise of his sacred 
 ofliee. It is with unnttcrablc dclifjht tliat 1 see so valuable a friend recovered fiom tlie remainders of 
 that disorder which seemed some years ago to threaten the speedy period of his ])nl)lic services. To be 
 able to vent the fulness of your heart under a sense of the grace of tlie gospel, and to represent the im- 
 portant engagements to vital and universal holiness which so naturally arise from it, v\ ()nld give a nobler 
 pleasure than money could purchase, thougii it were only in your own house, to a little circle wliicli 
 might till one of its rooms. There, indeed, you might equally approve the sincerity of your heart in the 
 presence of him that searches it : but you must give your friends, that is, as I should imagine, all the 
 friends of virtue and religion who know you, leave to rejoice, that Providence, having invigorated you 
 for it, has called you out to constant service in one of the most numerous and important congregations 
 v\ hich is to be found among us, even in London, that great support of our interest through the whole 
 kingdom. There, my dear and honoured friend, may you long continue to delight and to bless crowded, 
 attentive, and serious auditories, growing daily more attentive, and more serious, while your doctrine 
 drops upon them like the dew, and distils like the rain ! May you have the pleasure to see, not merely 
 that they are capable of relishing the dignity of sentiment, the projjriety of language, and the graceful- 
 ness of delivery ; but, which is inlinitely more desirable, that they continually advance in faith, in 
 holiness, and in love, to the glory of that God whom you serve with your spirit in the gospel of his Son, 
 and to whom all that you are and have is so faithfully and so zealously devoted ! 
 
 For these great purposes may your important life be prolonged, and your health, vvitli that of your 
 valuable lady, be supported to many future years! May the secret blessing of the God of heaven 
 sweetly mingle itself with all the concerns of both ! May it fill your house with prosperity, and your 
 hearts with that joy which a stranger intermeddleth not w ith ; and which, though it were in a royal 
 palace, can grow upon no stock but benevolence, friendship, and devotion ! And may the various bless- 
 ings of a long and a happy life be at length crow ned with those of an inlinitely happier immortality ! 
 
 Whenever that solemn moment comes which is to remove you from time to eternity, I know that it 
 must leave nniltitudes lamenting ; so deeply lamenting, that it is painful to speak or to think of it. 
 Cut I rejoice, Sir, to reflect, how many friends above will then be waiting to receive you to everlastiiig 
 habitations. I doubt not but the spirit of our dear author w ill be numbered and distinguished among 
 them ; and that your generous concern to promote the spread and the acceptance of these his remains, 
 will, so far as it may be known to him, increase his acknowledgment. In the mean time. Sir, I persuade 
 myself, that among all your other good ollices, you will join your earnest prayers for their success, with 
 those of, 
 
 Reverend and dear Sir, 
 Your most obliged and affectionate brother, 
 
 And obedient humble servant, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Northatiipton, June 8, 1742. 
 
SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. THOMAS STEFFE. 
 
 The pious autbor of these discourses was so early 
 removed from our world, and made so short an ap- 
 pearance on any public stage of action, that there 
 is no room for any to expect a variety of remark- 
 able occurrences in his life. By far the greater 
 part of those few years which Providence allotted 
 him, was spent in assiduous preparation for services, 
 which, alas ! he was never permitted to accomplish. 
 Nevertheless, as a person curious in the anatomy 
 of vegetables would look with some satisfaction on 
 a blossom yet folded up in tlie bud, while he traced 
 the first nidiments of its future fonn, as well as 
 that peculiar apparatus whicli was subservient to 
 its preservation and growth in tliat infant state, 
 though it never grew up to display its vivid colours 
 and diffuse its fragrancy ; so I flatter myself, that 
 something may occur in this narration, not unwor- 
 thy the notice of survivors. 
 
 Tlicy who, like our author, in the years I shall 
 principally describe, arc growing up to the work of 
 the ministry, may, I hope, learn in many instances, 
 what it is to be desired tiiey may be, while I am 
 telling them what Mr. Stelle was; and if they go 
 and do likewise, it may be for the benefit of multi- 
 tudes who are yet unborn that this little sketch has 
 been drawn. And the generality of readers may, 
 perhaps, be more disposed to edify ))y his writings, 
 as they grow better acquainted with his chanu^ter : 
 for it is certain, tliut nothing adds greater autliority 
 to a minister's instructions from tlie pulpit or the 
 press, than an apprehension that they are transcribed 
 and uttered front his heart. 
 
 Our author was tlie son of a worthy clergyman of 
 the established church, the Reverend Mr. .John 
 Steffe, once of Emanuel College in Cambridge, and 
 afterwards Hector of Wfenthani in the county of 
 
 Suffolk. This gentleman, remarkable for his piety, 
 learning, and moderation, married Mrs. Martha 
 Popland, of Raydon, in Suflblk, by whom he had 
 several children, who survive their honoured father, 
 I hope, to be long-lived blessings to their other 
 pious parent, and to supply, as far as possible, the 
 great loss she sustained, so soon after she became 
 a widow, by the death of two most hopeful and 
 delightful sons.* 
 
 Mr. Thomas SlelTe was born April G, 171G ; and 
 though he had a very weak constitution, so that his 
 life was hardly expected from his infancy ; (for he 
 soon api)eared subject to an ^asthmatic disorder, 
 besides other infirmities ;) yet he discovered such 
 an early solidity of genius, seriousness of temper, 
 and fondness for books, that his father soon deter- 
 mined to indulge his desire of being bred a scholar. 
 And as he candidly referred it to himself, as his 
 judgment advanced towards maturity, to judge for 
 himself in religious nialtcrs, he generousl)- acqui- 
 esced in the young gentleman's choice of pursuing 
 his studies among the profcstant dissenters. 
 
 I am informed that he had most of his education 
 in the languages under his father, who was well 
 acquainted with them, and especially a very aec'i- 
 rate judge in the elegances of the Latin, of which 
 I had some remarkable proofs in my Correspondence 
 with him. It is not v(;ry material to nu;ntion the 
 particular places in which our author imi)roved and 
 perfected his studies. It may suflice to say, that 
 when he was judged nearly qualified for the 
 academy, as he resolutely declined, from principles 
 of conscience, those oflers which a person of the 
 
 * The Ucv. Mr. Steffi-, of WrfliitlLiiti, died AiiRiist 7, 1737; one i,( 
 liis soil.', Uuceiiiber 23, 173H ; and the other dear youth, the author of 
 those scrmous, June 4, 1740. 
 
200 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 liist rniik in the es^blislu d ^liiirch had kiiiilly 
 made ot" piovidiiis for liim at tlic iiniveisity, his 
 case was accidoiitallv mentioned to that excellent 
 person to whom I have insciihed these fruits of liis 
 labours ; who, ready to embrace all opi)ortunities 
 to serve the i)ul)lie interest, made a particular in- 
 quiry into liis fharat'ter and disposition, and in 
 eoni'urreiiee with another, and to me unknown, 
 benefactor, determined to assist this hopeful youlli 
 with a supply of twenty pounds a year, that his 
 education mi<;'ht not be burtliensomc to his f;ood 
 father, then far advanced in years, charged with the 
 care of a numerous family. 
 
 In the year 1733, Mr. Steffe was sent, at the re- 
 quest of his friends, to one of those little seminaries 
 anionj; the protcstant dissenters, where attempts are 
 used to sujjply, in the best manner we can, the want 
 of more j)ui)lic advantages for education, and to 
 {juide the minds of jounsf persons intended for the 
 ministry into such preparator)' studies as may in 
 some measure qualify them for appearing properly 
 in it. He was then in his 18th year ; but as he 
 well knew the importance of making himself mas- 
 ter of the learned languages in younger life, he 
 desired to be excused from entering up^n the i)lii- 
 losophical part of his course, till he had spent 
 almost another year in applying himself to them ; 
 and particularly to Greek : which, I am sorry to 
 say it, is not generally cultivated in private schools 
 with that care and exactness whic^i it deserves and 
 requires. He prosecuted these studies with sueli 
 resolution, and such success, that, on the whole, 
 the most celebrated classics both of Greece and 
 Rome were a delight rather tlian a drudgery to him ; 
 and thus a foundation was laid for that solidity, 
 strength, and correctness both of sentiments and 
 style, which must seldom be expected, where those 
 great originals are unknown or disregarded. 
 
 I cannot forbear mentioning two other particu- 
 lars, which Mr. Steffe took in his entrance on this 
 stage of life, which appeared to me remarkably 
 prudent. The one was, that he endeavoured to 
 gain an early acquaintance with the character of 
 books, especially those of the little library to which 
 lie had access : and was ready to take the advice 
 of more experienced friends in the choice of those 
 he should read, that he might not throw away his 
 time in those which were of little importance; and 
 also that he might not anticipate the perusal of 
 others, which might more properly be reviewed in 
 .some future time. And I must needs say, that the 
 neglect of this caution, obvious as it is, may make 
 a well-furnished library a snare rather than a bene- 
 fit. The other particular I referred to, was his care 
 immediately to learn short-hand, and that not 
 merely in its first rudiments, with which too many 
 content tlicmsolves, but to some degree of exact- 
 ness, elegance, and readiness. In consequence of 
 
 this, he bc(^ame capable, with great case, and in a 
 very little lime, to make many valuable extracts 
 from the books he read and consulted ; not to men- 
 tion the many hours which it afterwards saved him, 
 in the composition of discourses for the pulpit. 
 
 I think it was also during the first year tliat he 
 laid a foundation for reading tlie Old Testament in 
 its original language ; a care so very necessary, 
 that I wonder it should ever be omitted ; or that 
 any young gentleman, in an age like ours, should 
 be judged competently qualified for the pulpit, wlio 
 lies as much at the mercy of translators in studying 
 the larger half of his Bible, as any of the people he 
 is to teach. It is, however, with pleasure that I 
 observe, how seldom this is done among the pro- 
 tcstant dissenters, so far as I have an ojiportunity 
 to learn ; and I am sorry to hear from many learned 
 clergymen, with whom I have the honour to be ac- 
 quainted, how often it is totally neglected by those, 
 whose advantages for literature are so very much 
 distinguished. 
 
 I shall not here give a particular account of the 
 method in which Mr. Steffe 's education, and that of 
 his companions, was carried on, while at the aca- 
 demy, though I have often been requested and im- 
 portuned to write largely on this head. I content 
 myself with observing in general, that he did not 
 despise any part of polite literature, which seemed 
 subservient to his honourable appearance in the 
 ministry, in so learned an age and country as our 
 own; but, nevertheless, applied himself with the 
 greatest assiduity to those things which appeared 
 of the most eminent and immediate service ; in 
 which view he is worthy of being imitated by all 
 that regard either their acceptance or usefulness in 
 the churches. 
 
 In the former view, besides the general prepara- 
 tions of logic, rhetoric, and metaphysics, he made 
 himself acquainted with the principles of geometry 
 and algebra, and, I think, also of conic sections, and 
 celestial mechanics. That steady command of 
 thought, and attention of mind, for which our 
 author was remarkable, and the traces of which 
 were discoverable in his countenance, made these 
 studies pleasant rather than fatiguing to him ; and 
 he soon saw the tendency they have to teach us to 
 distinguish our ideas with accuracy, and to dispose 
 our arguments in a clear, concise, and convincing 
 manner. These introduced him into the easy 
 knowledge of mechanics, statics, hydrostatics, op- 
 tics, pneumatics, and astronomy, so far as it was 
 judged material to open to him the chief phenomena 
 of each with their respective solutions. He added 
 to lliese some other articles, which have their place 
 in what is usually called the Encyclopaidia of 
 Learning, especially something of natural history, 
 and a pretty large view of the anatomy of tlie hu- 
 man body ; the knowledge of which he cultivated 
 
CHARACTER OF THE 
 
 with peculiar care and pleasure, as well observing 
 tlie tendency it has to promote our veneration and 
 love to the great architect of this amazing frame, 
 whose wonders of providential influence also are so 
 apparent in its support, nourishment, and motion. 
 
 For all these studies Mr. Steffe had a relish, and 
 a genius ; but the far greater part of his time, 
 especially in the last three years of his course, was 
 employed in others more directly preparatory for 
 the great work he had in view. In this number I 
 must reckon a large and particular investigation of 
 Jewish Antiquities, in which he met with the 
 illustration of numberless texts in the Old Testa- 
 ment, which cannot be well understood without 
 them : as likewise his survey of Ecclesiastical 
 Historj', of which Lampe's admirable Epitome was 
 the ground-work ; which I mention, because I 
 wonder it is no more generally known, though so 
 very far superior to any thing else of the like kind, 
 for the vast variety of judicious hints which it con- 
 tains, in a little room, and most beautiful order. 
 His view of the doctrines of the ancient philoso- 
 phers in their various sects, had been taken with 
 greater advantage, had Buddaeus's Compendium 
 Historia; Philosophiea; been then known ; but 
 something of this kind he surveyed, and it could 
 not but serve to endear Christianity to him, that 
 glorious light which dispels these shades of learned 
 and artificial darkness. 
 
 These articles took up some hours every week, in 
 the latter years of his course ; but by far the greater 
 part of his time throughout this whole period, so 
 far as it fell under the direction of his tutor, was 
 employed in a series of about 250 lectures of di- 
 vinity, in the largest extent of the word, that is, 
 considered as including what is most material in 
 pneumatology and ethics.* In this compendium 
 were confained, in as few words as perspicuity 
 would admit, the most material things which had 
 occurred to the author's observations, relating to 
 the nature and properties of the human mind, the 
 proof of tlie existence and attributes of God, the 
 nature of moral virtue, the various branches of it, 
 the means subservient to it, and the sanctions by 
 which its precepts, considered as God's natural 
 law, are enforced ; under which head the natural 
 evidence of the immortality of the soul was largely 
 examined. To this was added some survey of what 
 is, and generally has been, the state of virtue in the 
 world ; from whence the transition was easy to the 
 need of a revelation, the encouragement to hope it, 
 and the nature of the evidence which might proba- 
 bly attend it. From hence llie work naturally pro- 
 ceeded to the evidence produced in proof of that 
 
 * The in.iniiscri|il, wliicli wiistlie phiii of lliosc, consists of axioms, 
 definitions, pmnositions, Icnimala, iliMnonstralKins, corollaries, ami 
 scholia, just in tlic nn llioil wlii( li niallicinaticians iistf, tliouffli willioiit 
 Ihc inlroilnrlion of those arbitrary marks which some liave atrettcil on 
 like occasirjns. 
 
 REV. MR. T. STEFFE. 201 
 
 revelation which ^Le Serij^ure contains. The 
 genuineness, credibility, and inspiration of these 
 sacred books were then cleared up at large, and 
 vindicated from all the most considerable objec- 
 tions, which modern infidels (those sinners against 
 their own souls) have urged. When this foundation 
 was laid, the chief doctrines of Scripture were drawn 
 out into a large detail ; those relating to the Father, 
 Son, and Spirit, to the original and fallen state of 
 man, to the scheme of our redemption by Christ, 
 and the offices of the Spirit as the great agent in 
 the Redeemer's kingdom. The nature of the cove- 
 nant of grace was particularly stated, and the 
 several precepts and institutions of the gospel, with 
 the views which it gives us of the concluding scenes 
 of our world, and of the eternal state beyond it. 
 What seemed most evident on these heads was 
 thrown into the propositions, some of which were 
 problematical ; and the chief controversies relating 
 to each were thrown into the scholia ; and all illus- 
 trated by a very large collection of references, f 
 containing perhaps, one lecture with another, the 
 substance of forty or fifty octavo pages, in which 
 the sentiments and reasonings of the most consider- 
 able authors on all these heads might be seen in 
 their own words ; which it was the business of the 
 students to read and contract, in the intervals be- 
 tween these lectures, of which only three were given 
 in a w«ek, and sometimes but two. The mind of 
 this excellent youth knew how to judge of the im- 
 portance of this part of his course ; it struck him 
 strongly ; and as he made it his early care to tran- 
 scribe the manuscript with great exactness, so ho 
 studied both the lectures and references diligently, 
 and made himself master of them to such a degree, 
 as to be able to handle such points of theology as 
 occurred to him in his course of preaching, not in a 
 crude indigested manner, but with an accuracy and 
 solidity, rather worthy of a divine who had num- 
 bered more years of study than he of life. 
 
 As he was always encouraged and exhorted to 
 inquire freely, and to judge for himself, so it was 
 particularly recommended to him to take his system 
 of divinity, not from the sentiments of any human 
 teacher, but from the word of God. This therefore 
 he early studied, and set a great value on those critical 
 lectures on the New Testament, which he weekly 
 attended, and carefully transcribed ; besides those 
 daily expositions in the family, in w hich, w ithin the 
 five years he spent in the course, he had an opportu- 
 nity of hearing almost the whole Old Testament 
 explained from the original, as well as the New 
 twice or thrice i!liistrate<l, [)artly, though not en- 
 tirely, in a practical view. If 1 rcmenil)cr righl, he 
 soon took the wise precaution (wliich I would recom- 
 mend to every yoting studcnl) to get an interleaved 
 
 + See Fam. Expos, Vol. I. I'ref. \i, iv. 
 
20(1 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 Bible, aiula Wctstein'n^rcck TWamcnt intcilc.nvcd 
 with g'oo»l pajior in (luarto, in which he wrote nic- 
 inurnndiinis of the most consideiablc remarks for 
 the illustration of Scripture, which occurred to him 
 in readinsf, conversation, or rellection. And had 
 Providence continued him a few years lons^er in 
 thai prudent and diliscent course, I question not but 
 these manuscripts would have been a rich repository 
 of valuable materials ; for he had a true sjenius for 
 criticism, in those wliieli I take to be its noblest 
 and masterl}' parts ; which are those which depend, 
 not merely on dint of industry, but on sagacity, 
 elevation, and vivacity of thought ; to which I must 
 add, a truly devotional temper of mind, without 
 which it will be impossilile for any man to relish, 
 and therefore, to be sure, impossible to point out 
 the beauties, of the sacred writers. 
 
 His great desire to appear in a becoming manner 
 under the character of a preacher, as well as a con- 
 cern to cultivate religion in his own soul, engaged 
 him intimately to converse with the best practical 
 writers our fertile country has produced ; in which 
 number, I know, he peculiarly esteemed Mr. Howe 
 and Mr. Baxter, not to mention any of those lights 
 of the sanctuary, which through the great goodness 
 of God to us, are not yet extinguished, and who 
 w ill, I doubt not, preach with abundant success to 
 generations long to come. I believe that day seldom 
 passed, in which some of these writers were not in 
 his hands, in whom he sought at once the improve- 
 ment of the Christian and the minister ; and I 
 think it must argue a great defect of understanding, 
 as well as of real piety, if any theological students 
 are negligent of this. 
 
 The same good principle, which led Mr. Stefl'e to 
 be very conversant with such books, engaged him 
 also to attend with great diligence to those instruc- 
 tions which were largely given him, on the import- 
 ant head of preaching and pastoral care. And while 
 I speak of this, I must not forget how gladly he 
 embraced the opportunity, which the custom of the 
 place gave him, to submit, first, the schemes of his 
 sermons, and then several of the sermons themselves, 
 to the examination and correction of tliat friend 
 who had the charge of his education : a privilege 
 w hich those that least need it generally value most ; 
 and which, if I do not much mistake, may be more 
 instructive to young preachers, than any general 
 rules for composition, which can be offered them by 
 those, who are themselves most eminent in their 
 jirofession. An early care to get a due manage- 
 ment of his voice, and to form himself to a just, 
 animated, yet unaffected delivery, set an agreeable 
 varnish on what was in itself much more important; 
 and greatly contributed to that extensive and well- 
 merited popularity, which attended him, so far as I 
 can learn, from the first sermon he preached to the 
 Jast. Sad calamity to the church, and the world. 
 
 that the interval between the one and the other «as 
 so short ! 
 
 Hitherto I have considered Mr. Steffe's character 
 and conduct as a scholar, during the scries of his 
 academical studies : I must now describe him 
 in another yet more important view, which will 
 carry us a little further into his life, as well as 
 deeper into his heart; I mean, as a Christian. And 
 here I shall not mention a variety of particulars, 
 which I comprehend in saying, " He was, as I am 
 verily persuaded, a Christian indeed ;" but shall 
 only mention some of those exemplary eflects, which 
 the sincere and lively piety of his heart produced, 
 in a beautiful correspondence to those circum- 
 stances of life in which he was placed. And this I 
 attempt, not in a view of raising a monument to the 
 memory of a dear deceased friend, I doubt not but 
 the applause of his great Master has raised him 
 high above all such ; but rather of hinting instruc- 
 tion to others, by exhibiting him more fully in a 
 point of light which has seldom been enlarged upon 
 by those who have written lives, whether from a very 
 mistaken apprehension that it was of little moment, 
 or, as I would rather hope, for want of materials. 
 Providence has ordered it so, that it was almost 
 all the history that can be given of Mr. Steffe, and 
 has assigned this office to one who had an o])portu- 
 iiity of collecting materials from what he himself 
 saw ; though I must add, that in what I have further 
 to write, my personal observations have been much 
 illustrated by a collection of his letters to his parents 
 and other near relations, the originals of which are 
 now before me. 
 
 No advantages of genius, and, could they have 
 come into question, no views of preferment, could 
 have engaged so worthy a clergyman as Mr. Steffe's 
 father was, to enter into measures for his being 
 brought up to the ministerial office, if he had not 
 known him to be a blameless and a virtuous youth : 
 but from some things which he has written of himself 
 in papers now before me, the particulars of wliich 
 it is not necessary to transcribe, I have reason to 
 believe that real religion was of a later date in his 
 heart, than his first views of undertaking the sacred 
 work in which he afterwards engaged. An awful 
 text of Scripture, solemnly and seasonably dropped 
 from the venerable lips of his pious father, a little 
 before he quitted the family, seems to have given a 
 most happy turn to his mind, and, under divine in- 
 fluence, to have been the immediate occasion of pro- 
 ducing that sincere piety there, which afterwards 
 grew so fast, and shone so bright. 
 
 I find, that when he first came to the academy, 
 his religious resolutions were seriously renewed and 
 confirmed ; and he w as very early animated with a 
 solicitous concern to do good to the souls of others, 
 as well as to secure the salvation of his own. Tliis 
 particularly appears in a letter which he tlien wrote 
 
CHARACTER OF THE 
 
 to an elder brother, who was just then coming out 
 of an apprenticeship, and entering on life ; and it 
 is pleasant to observe, what a mixture of prudence, 
 fidelit\% and tenderness, runs through the whole of 
 it. He was very apprehensive, from what he had 
 observed in his brother's temper and conduct, as 
 well as from the remarks he had even then made 
 upon the world in general, that he would be in great 
 danger of being insnared ; and though he was af- 
 terwards remarkably recovered by divine grace, 
 some circumstances which followed too plainly 
 showed how just those apprehensions were. Our 
 author therefore plainly admonishes him of his 
 danger, and seriously urges him to make religion 
 his choice and his business, as the great point of 
 wisdom both for time and eternity : yet he mingles 
 this with so many acknowledgments of his own im- 
 perfections, of his having neglected many early 
 advantages of improvement, and having perhaps, in 
 some instances of sin and folly, insnared so intimate 
 a companion, that it plainly shows he did not for- 
 get the respect due to an elder brother, and that it 
 was not pride, but cordial love, that dictated what 
 he wrote. " I am," says he, " unworthy to be 
 called a child of God ; yet through his goodness I 
 see and taste so much sweetness in religion, that I 
 cannot but recommend it to others." And accor- 
 dingly he does recommend it, by a variety of most 
 weighty arguments; and concludes them all with 
 such a serious representation of the uncertainty of 
 youth and health, and the possibility of an early 
 surprise by death, as is peculiarly moving, vshen 
 one recollects that the person by whom this letter 
 was written, and he to whom it was addressed, 
 were both called into eternity in their blooming 
 years. 
 
 It is witlj some difficulty that I forbear inserting 
 the whole ; but I fear swelling these memoirs to a 
 disproportionate size. Nevertheless I find myself, 
 as it were, constrained to transcribe great part of 
 another letter, which he wrote much about the same 
 time to a younger brother, Mr. John Stelfe, to en- 
 gage him to resume those views of the ministry 
 which he seemed at that time inclinable to lay aside. 
 It discovers much of the heart of the writer; and I 
 hope they who are training up for that office, whose 
 benefit I have here particularly in view, will read it 
 with some peculiar attention, as coming from one of 
 their companions, if they will allow the name of 
 companion to one who was as yet only in the pursuit 
 of his grammatical studies. That was Mr. Stelfe 's 
 circumstance when he wrote the following epistle ; 
 and yet I freely own, that while I read it, (such is 
 the gravity, propriety, and spirituality with which 
 he writes,) I seem to be rather perusing the charge 
 of a brother long experienced in the ministry, than 
 the letter of a child who was but looking towards it. 
 
 Speaking of the ministry, be says, " I must ac- 
 
 REV. MR. T. STEFFE. 203 
 
 knowledge that it with g^at reluctance I was 
 brought to comply with the proposals which were 
 made to me in this view, from a sense of the great- 
 ness and importance of the work, and of my own 
 insufliciency for it ; which argument was strongly 
 backed with frequent fears, lest I should not have 
 had a work of grace wrought in my own heart, with- 
 out which I saw an impossibility of becoming a 
 faitljful and successful minister; and I doubt not 
 but you have had some apprehensions like these. 
 But I would not have you nor myself overwlielmed 
 with these discouraging thoughts ; since it is so 
 delightful, so honourable a work, and has so great 
 a tendency to the promotion of religion in the world. 
 
 " It is true, this is an office which is attended with 
 great difficulties, even such as would be too consider- 
 able for any mortal creature to encounter with, if he 
 had not inward supports from Christ, the chief 
 shepherd and bishop of souls. The greatness and 
 difficulty of the ministerial work will evidently ap- 
 pear, if we consider, that whilst they are engaged 
 in their office, they are personating even the great 
 God himself, whose mouth they are to the people : 
 the purposes they serve are high and godlike ; and 
 besides, what greatly adds to the difficulty of it, is 
 the opposition and discouragements v.hich attend 
 the faithful discharge of this duty. The prince of 
 this world is active by temptations to divert and 
 discourage every one from engaging in this work, 
 often suggesting what may pervert and mislead 
 their minds in it. If allurements, terrors, or re- 
 proaches will avail, they are sure to be tiied ; for 
 ministers are the butt against which Satan by these 
 instruments levels his sharpest darts, well knowing 
 that the strongest batteries against his kingdom are 
 placed there ; and therefore the most faithful are 
 sure to be most assaulted. There are also our own 
 indispositions, which render the work the harder. 
 And besides all, there is a strict account to be given 
 at the day of judgment, when the secrets of all 
 hearts shall be revealed, when we shall hear Christ 
 saying with a heart-impressing power, C^hw an ac- 
 count of your stewardship. He will demand an ac- 
 count of the souls he committed to our care, and the 
 trust he reposed in us. There, if we be pronounced 
 faithful servants, we shall accordingly receive the 
 reward of such ; but if unfaithful, the blood of others 
 will be required at our hands, and their misery will 
 be an aggravation of ours. 
 
 " Now upon mature consideration of the great 
 importance and dillicnlty of the work, as it is of so 
 great consequence, we may justly cry out, Who is 
 sufficient for these things? Hie labor, hoc opus: this 
 is a work indeed. What piety, what prudence, 
 what zeal, what courage, what faithfulness, and 
 what holy watchfulness is necessary, to the right 
 discharge of this so great an office ? The work is 
 great ; our strength is small : yea, of ourselves wc 
 
204 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 have no stronsith nl^ll ; hut^l our suflicionry is 
 ol" (Jod ; to hiiu therefore must wc ffo for it. Here 
 is our eoinfort. and our hope ; It hath plensrd the 
 Father that in Christ all fulness should dwell ; ful- 
 ness of merit and rifchteousness, of strength and 
 frraec. even a p;raee that shall be suflieient for us. 
 (lod Iiiiiiself hath said, that if am/ lack wisdom, they 
 should ask it of him who ijiveth to all Hberallij ; and 
 he iiatli exjjressly added, it shall be f/iveu. There- 
 fore let us make our applieation to him ; let us come 
 with a holy boldness to the throne of graee, deeply 
 impressed with a sense of our weakness and folly ; 
 and thus let us ask wisdom, and then we need not 
 fear being: disappointed, but shall of his fulness 
 receive, and ffracc for f/race. 
 
 " In vain may we have recourse to the most re- 
 fined and polite parts of human learninfj, to qualify 
 ourselves for this work : all human arts, and t!ic 
 whole circle of the sciences, will be unable to 
 furnish us for it, unless God, who first commanded 
 the light to shine out of darkness, lay the foundation, 
 in shininfj by his Spirit into our hearts, and display- 
 ing the invincible efficacy of his grace, to work in 
 us a true repentance and conversion never to be re- 
 pented of. Not that I would have you neglect your 
 studies, but use a double diligence in your earnest 
 pursuit of tliem : yet I write thus, that you may 
 not rest in these, but be aspiring after more noble 
 acquirements. Be very solicitous about the one 
 thinff needful, without which you can never ex- 
 pect to become a faithful or successful minister of 
 Christ's gospel. 
 
 " My dear brother, I hope you will take in good 
 part what I have here said ; and though you do not 
 want advice and direction in this affair from those 
 that are with you, and are more capable of giving 
 you better admonition than I, yet I hope you will 
 have so much regard to me and yourself, as to 
 bestow some time in reading over and considering 
 these obvious thoughts, wliich I have spent a few 
 minutes in drawing up, hoping that as tlicy are 
 continually of use to me, they may be so to you. 
 
 " You intimate that your inclinations are rather 
 to be of a trade. It is true, in such a station of 
 life, you would not (ind so much difTiculty as attends 
 the ministry : but then you will not have such 
 prospects of being useful in your day. What more 
 noble or honourable employment than this ! Surely 
 it may w-ell be called a good work ; a work of the 
 greatest importance, and designed for the most ex- 
 tensive good ; since it is conversant about no lower 
 concerns than the life and happiness of immortal 
 souls, and is designed to display and illustrate 
 God's free grace and mercy in bringing many sons 
 to glory. Are the ways of wisdom pleasant ? then 
 ministers of all men enjoy most real, solid plea- 
 sure ; for they are always exercised in her ways, 
 spending themselves, and being spent, in the service 
 
 of their Lord, who will not fail to reward them 
 abundantly. Oh what pleasure will arise in our 
 minds, if God shall call us to this work, and suc- 
 ceed our labours in it, when we shall, in the midst 
 of those toils, see many coming to own us as their 
 spiritual fathers ? These will be our joi/ and crown 
 of rtjoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus ; they will 
 be as so many jewels in our dia<lem of glory. But 
 then, what still more unspeakable pleasure and 
 satisfaction will arise in our souls, when we come 
 in the near views of an eternal world, that we can 
 look back upon our past lives, and see that they 
 were spent in the service of our Creator and Re- 
 deemer ; that his glory was our chief aim in all we 
 did ; so that wc can say, we have fought a good 
 fight, wc have finished our course, and kept the faith ; 
 and that what remains is, that there is a crown of 
 rigkteousness laid up for us, which the Lord, the 
 righteous Judge, shall bestoiv upon us in that dag. — 
 But I must break ofT for this time ; yet not without 
 recommending you to God ; once more desiring 
 you would be earnest and constant in your ad- 
 dresses at the throne of grace, that we may both 
 obtain merci/ and grace to help in every time of need." 
 
 It may easily be imagined, that so lively a sense 
 of piety in the heart of this good youth would be 
 productive of such discourses and actions, as must 
 naturally attract the observation and esteem of 
 those around him ; and how modestly soever con- 
 ducted, would be (as Solomon expresses it) like a 
 perfume held in the hand, which the more closely 
 it is grasped, discovers itself so much the sooner, 
 by the agreeable odours which it diffuses. 
 
 He was soon informed of a society of private 
 Christians, who met at stated times for religious 
 discourse and prayer; (the first of those formed, and 
 since so happily increased, in the place where he 
 then dwelt ;) and he was invited to enter himself a 
 member of it. In consisted, as such societies ge- 
 nerally, though blessed be God not always, do, of 
 persons in lower ranks of life : but it is edifying, 
 as well as delightful to me, to observe, in what 
 humble strains this young gentleman expresses his 
 admiration of the goodness of God, and of the con- 
 descension of his friends, that he should have the 
 honour of being admitted among them, of which he 
 seems to have apprehended himself very unworthy. 
 
 From this society he quickly passed to another, 
 consisting only of senior students for the ministry, 
 who used on the evening of the Lord's day to visit 
 neighbouring villages, and hold private meetings 
 for religious worship in some licensed houses there. 
 Tmo of them generally went together; a serious 
 sermon on some uncontroverted and important sub- 
 ject of religion was repeated ; and one of them 
 prayed before and the other after it, with proper 
 intervals of singing. This custom, still continued, 
 and extended to many other places, hath, I hope, 
 
CHARACTER OF THE 
 
 been very useful, both in exercising the gifts of the 
 students, and in abating the prejudices which some 
 have been ready to entertain against our ways of 
 worship, as well as in spreading the knowledge of 
 divine things ; not to mention the relief it has given 
 to some, whose circumstances have confined them 
 from opportunities of attending, where they could 
 have chosen to spend the sabbath. When the as- 
 sembly was dismissed, a few serious people would 
 often remain, to spend an hour or two more in con- 
 ference and prayer with the persons who had been 
 officiating ; and they who appeared under the first 
 religious impressions, or under dejection of spirit, 
 were encouraged to open their eases, and their 
 hearts, at such times as these. 
 
 It is not at all to be wondered at, by those who 
 consider what Christian experience is, and how it 
 is to be learned, that those students, who entered 
 into these exercises with the greatest spirit and 
 zeal, have appeared to distinguished advantage 
 under a public character. And accordingly I am 
 well assured, that many large and flourishing con- 
 gregations, in which (having been unanimously and 
 affectionately chosen) they are now labouring with 
 great acceptance and success, are blessing God, 
 that they were thus formed for more extensive ser- 
 vice, and that they learnt in such schools as these, 
 what no academical lectures alone could have taught 
 them with equal advantage. 
 
 I will venture to say, that it would be well for 
 the church of Christ, if all his ministers entered 
 on the solemnities of their ordination-day, with 
 that deliberation, self-examination, and prayer, 
 which Mr. StefTe's papers show him to have used, 
 when he first gave up his name to tliis repeating 
 society : but he knew the worth of souls, and the 
 importance of men's devotional moments ! May 
 none, who do not in some measure know both, ven- 
 ture to meddle with them, lest it be to their own 
 hurt! 
 
 Well did this prudent youth apprehend, how ab- 
 surd it is for any to undertake to ofliciate in Chris- 
 tian assemblies, before they are entered into full 
 communion ; and well did he consider, how great 
 a duty and privilege it is to commemorate the 
 death of our great Lord at his table. Accordingly, 
 in September, 1734, some considerable time before 
 he engaged in the society I last mentioned, he 
 made his first approach to that ordinance, with the 
 entire consent and approbation of the cliurch, to 
 whom he wrote an excellent letter on the occasion, 
 which I would gladly insert, if I had convenient 
 room to do it. liut I cannot forbear transcribing a 
 few of his reficetions upon this head, in a letter 
 which he wrote presently after ; because I hope it 
 may animate young Christians to attend an im- 
 portant duty, which I fear they are too ready to 
 neglect. 
 
 REV. MR. T. STEFFE. 206 
 
 " I did then," sa^ he, (speaking of the preceding 
 sabbath,) "give myself up to God, and seal my 
 covenant with him ; and it is with unspeakable 
 pleasure that I look back on that solemn and awful 
 transaction. I bless God, I can say, the day in 
 which I made my first approach to the table of the 
 Lord, was one of the best days, if not the very best, 
 I ever lived. I then felt more sensible sorrow for 
 sin, than I had ever done before. I was filled with 
 admiration to think that I, who did not deserve to 
 be set among the dogs of his flock, should have the 
 honour of sitting among his children at his table. 
 I hope, I had then some appropriating views of the 
 blessed Jesus, and could call him my Saviour and 
 my God ; could esteem him the chief among ten 
 thousand, and altogether lovely. And while I was 
 by faith feeding on him in this ordinance, unspeak- 
 able transports of grief and joy at once seized on 
 my soul : grief, when I looked up, and saw my 
 bleeding dying Redeemer bearing my sins in his 
 own body on the tree ; when I viewed him, as 
 wounded for my transgressions, as bruised for my 
 iniquities, and enduring that chastisement which 
 was the purchase of my peace : and proportionable 
 joy, when I considered that my sins, though so 
 great, and so many, and attended with such aggra- 
 vated circumstances as gave them a scarlet and 
 crimson dye, were all washed away in the ovcvlio%\ - 
 ing fountain of his precious blood. On the whole, 
 I was enabled with delight to draw water out of 
 this well of salvation, and could with great pleasure 
 enlarge on this head : but must conclude, with en- 
 treating your prayers for me, that having vowed 
 unto the Lord, I may never go back ; but consider- 
 ing myself as bound by so many engagements, 
 invited by so many encouragements, and obliged to 
 (Jod and godliness by so many tics of duty, interest, 
 and gratitude, I may be running the Christian race 
 with patience and alacrity, and continually adorning 
 that profession, which I have in this ordinance so 
 solemnly made." 
 
 In consequence of a resolution, so solemnly re- 
 corded in this ordinance, and often renewed and 
 sealed in returning approaches to it, our author 
 continued in a calm, resolute, and diligent prose- 
 cution of his studies, according to the plan laid 
 down above : still conducting himself in a prudent 
 and cautious manner, so as to cut off occasion, even 
 from those who sought it, if such there had been, to 
 bring any reproach on the society he belonged to, 
 and the denomination of Christians in whose interest 
 he had chosen to embark. Nor do I from this time 
 meet with any incident relating to him, so remark- 
 able as to require a particular notice, till August, 
 1737, when it pleased God to remove his reverend 
 and worthy father, by a stroke which his family and 
 the church will have long cause to lament. This 
 providence occasioned two letters, which have been 
 
20G SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 so very jilcasin^ to nic, ant^to some pious aiitl 
 jiuliiioiis iVicnds to wliom 1 have communicated 
 them, that 1 cannot foihcar inserting tlic greatest 
 part of them here ; as 1 think they are hoth a very 
 lively and beautiful imagje of filial piety in its most 
 genuine w oiking,s ; and as tlie latter contains some 
 such consolations on the death of friends, as tlie 
 best of mankind in this dyinf-- world have, alas, 
 fre(iuent occasion to recollect. 
 
 Tlie former of these was directed to his mother ; 
 but begins in this abrupt manner, without any ap- 
 pellation to mark the person for whom it was par- 
 ticularly intended. 
 
 " Last night the most melancholy letter came to 
 my hands that ever I received, and I am now sitting 
 down to write an answer to it. But to whom shall 
 I address myself.' and what shall I make the sub- 
 ject of my letter ? 
 
 " Had I sulRcient encouragement to hope, that 
 my dear father could read it, or hear it read, I should 
 not be long in determining whether I should direct 
 a part of it to him. But the account I have had of 
 his extreme illness discourages mc from it : if he 
 vras a week ago so low and weak, as to be incapable 
 of holding a pen to write a few lines to me, there is 
 too, too much room to suspect, lest that disease, 
 which made his hands so feeble, sliould by this 
 lime have cast a mortal veil over his eyes, and 
 stopped his ears, so that he can neither read, nor 
 hear, what I write. Oh could I meet with some one 
 that is able to resolve the question ! With what 
 eagerness should I address myself to such a person, 
 in the language, though not in the sentiments, of 
 Joseph, Dotk my father yet live ? But oh, with wliat 
 fear and anxiety should I attend the answer ? How 
 should I fear, lest my present uncertainty should be 
 changed into a melancholy certainty ; and that 
 uneasy situation of mind, which between hope and 
 fear concerning my father's life I am now in, should 
 be succeeded by the deepest sorrow from hearing, 
 He does not live ! 
 
 " In the midst of such uncertainties, what shall 
 I do? What course sliall I take ? Shall I venture to 
 write to him .' Shall I tell him, that notwithstand- 
 ing the prevalence of his disease, and his extreme 
 weakness, I have yet great hope of his recovery? 
 Alas, there is little room for that. What hope can 
 I have, when a physician, whose skill enables him 
 to form a more certain judgment, than his tenderness 
 and unwillingness to grieve will permit him to 
 impart, does yet say. If he does recover, it will be 
 a considerable time first '. Where is the strength to 
 hold out a considerable time under such a disease? 
 Do the young and vigorous often fall a prey to a 
 fever, after a few days' or a few hours' struggle? 
 And can the aged and infirm grapple with, and 
 conquer, so powerful an invader. 
 
 " Shall I then endeavour to administer some 
 
 OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 divine consolations to a dear parent, in the near 
 views of death and eternity ? Blessed be God, that 
 I have so much reason to believe, this would be an 
 unnecessary task, as I have good ground to hope, 
 that that God whom he has served with so much 
 faithfulness and constancy in his life, will not with- 
 hold from him the comforts of his Spirit in his 
 death ; and that God, concerning whom he has so 
 often said in the time of health and prosperity. 
 Whom have J in heaven but thee ! and there is none 
 upon earth that I desire besides thee ; will be the 
 strength of his heart now when his flesh and his 
 heart fail him, and will be his portion for ever. I 
 doubt not, that vital active principle of love to God, 
 and delight in him, which spread such a calm and 
 serenity over his mind during life, will dart a cheer- 
 ful ray to enlighten the dark valley of the shadow 
 of death. 
 
 " Once more, shall I yet suppose him alive, and 
 capable of reading or hearing my letter, though 
 just on the brink of the grave, and almost panting 
 out his last breath ? And shall I write to take my 
 last solemn farewell of him, till we meet in eteniity ? 
 Oh how can I do that ? If is a task too melancholy 
 for mc ; my heart even melts at such a thought. 
 No, though I have too much reason to believe, that 
 if my dear father does live, to see or hear this, it 
 will be the last that he will see or hear from mc, yet 
 I will not, cannot write it as the last. However, 
 my uncertainty about him is so great, that I cannot 
 prevail upon myself to address it immediately to 
 him, too much afraid lest T should be writing to a 
 pale corpse, instead of a living tender father. — In 
 this dubious frame of mind, to thee. Oh my God, 
 would I turn. I know, that thou livest, and wilt 
 ever live : thou art the great arbiter of life and 
 death ; thou bringest down to the borders of the 
 grave, and thou only canst say with a prevailing 
 voice. Return. Let us join in saying, if there is yet 
 room for prayer, do thou hear it on the behalf of 
 tliy servant : do not so lay our sins to our charge, 
 as to take away our father and husband : oh spare 
 him a little, that he may recover strength, &c. But 
 if he is out of the reach of prayer, dispose us cheer- 
 fully to acquiesce in this aftlictive dispensation of 
 thy wise providence. Adorell be thy name, that 
 supposing tills, we have so much reason to mingle 
 our praises with our tears ; and though we should 
 lament the loss of a most tender, valuable, and im- 
 portant relative ; yet we may rejoice to think, that 
 we mourn not as those without hope for him, to 
 whom to live was Christ, and consequently to die 
 must be gain. Amen." . 
 
 He then addresses his mother in a very tender 
 strain, on a supposition that she might possibly be 
 a mournful widow before this letter reached her: 
 but as many of tiie considerations he there touches 
 upon are more largely inserted in the consolatory 
 
CHARACTER OF THE 
 
 address ■Hliicli next follows, I omit them, only here 
 transcribing the following expressive lines : — 
 
 " Now is the time especially, to reflect upon God 
 as your constant friend, and never-failing- portion. 
 Now is the time to recollect his many exceeding 
 great and precious promises. Look back on former 
 experiences, and draw encouragement from them : 
 look forward, and view that divine principle of 
 grace implanted in your souls, by which you are 
 united to God, and to Christ, in the bonds of an 
 everlasting covenant. 
 
 " This, my dear mother, may be a source of calm 
 serenity, and even of joy and transport, in circum- 
 stances, which in other respects wear the most 
 gloomy aspect. And if you are tempted to enter- 
 tain any anxious thoughts about those dillicultics, 
 which may attend us in our passage through life, 
 now the channel through which the greatest part of 
 its supports and enjoyments flowed down to us is 
 dried up, let us remember, that the earth is the Lord's, 
 (Did the fulness thereof: and now the streams are 
 cut off, let us rise to the fountain of all good." 
 
 This letter was dated the fust of August, 1737, 
 and his father died on the seventh ; so that, accord- 
 ing to the usual course of the post, it must, I sup- 
 pose, come to hand while he was yet alive : and a 
 pious and tender parent will judge perhaps better 
 than any one can, what a noble consolation it must 
 add to the last days and hours of his life, to hear 
 .such a letter from such a son. I question not but 
 his generous mind would rejoice for others, as well 
 as himself; not only thinking, what an ornament 
 and support such a son might prove to the surviving 
 branches of the family ; but also, how useful his 
 maturer age niight be to the world, who was capable 
 of administering such consolations to the afllicted, 
 before he had yet gone through the studies of his 
 youth. 
 
 A few days more brought our young friend the 
 melancholy tidings, that his father was dead ; 
 which occasioned the following letter, dated the 
 15th of August, 1737 ; which I doubt not, has also 
 proved a very great support to the worthy person to 
 whom it was addressed, when mourning over the 
 remains of this dear son by whom it m as written ; 
 who seems therein to have been providentially led 
 to lay in, if I may so speak, a cordial against his 
 own approaching funeral. If the reader be afTected 
 with it, as I myself have been, there will be no need 
 to make an apology for inserting it at large : and I 
 I am persuaded it must afford every believer of 
 I Christianity a secret triumph, to compare this 
 I epistle of a youth instructed in the gospel, with 
 those of the most learned and celebrated philoso- 
 phers of antiquity, and particularly of Seneca, 
 Tully, and his correspondent friends, on melan- 
 choly occasions, which bore some resemblance to 
 that on which this was writteii. 
 
 REV. MR. T. STEFFE. 207 
 
 * A iiff. 15, 1737. 
 
 " My dear dear Mother, 
 
 " You may easily imagine with what sad sur- 
 prise I received the last account from Wrentham. 
 I have indeed been in an uneasy state of uncer- 
 tainty ever since I left you : yet the letter which I 
 had a few days ago, written with your hand, and 
 which gave me an account of my father's small re- 
 vival, gave me withal some comfortable hope of his 
 recovery ; so that the interval between that and the 
 last letter, was spent in some greater degree of 
 cheerfulness, than I was willing to allow myself 
 before. But O how soon it was turned into sorrow ! 
 And I was lifted high in my hopes and expecta- 
 tions, only to be sunk the lower by that sad message 
 which I received by the hand of ray sister last 
 Friday night. How did I tremble, when I saw the 
 letter ! How many melancholy fears did my fore- 
 boding heart suggest, even before I opened it ! 
 But when it was opened, oh, what did I see ! Words 
 that could not but cut me to the very heart. Our 
 dear dear father is dead. Tears prevented me 
 from reading any further ; and the repetition of the 
 cutting sentence calls up my tears afresh : you 
 must give me leave then to weep awhile, and I will 
 endeavour to proceed. — 
 
 " It will be painting too melancholy a scene, to 
 tell you what a variety of gloomy thoughts passed 
 through my mind on this occasion. No, I will not 
 renew or increase your sorrow, by aggravating the 
 loss we have sustained, in the death of such a 
 husband and father. But I would fain turn my 
 thoughts to the brighter side, and by divine assist- 
 ance endeavour to suggest such things as may bcof 
 use to reconcile us to this very heavy stroke of 
 Providence, and to form us to such a suitable dis- 
 position of mind, as that if any one should ask us, 
 Is it well with thy htishand ? Is it well with thif 
 father ? Is it well with thee ? We may even with a 
 smile reply. It is well. 
 
 " I omitted writing the last post, that I might 
 have time to settle and compose my own mind, and 
 conscfiuently be the more capable of administering 
 consolation to you, and others, who arc intimately 
 concerned in my dear father's death. Had I wrote 
 immediately after the reception of my sister's letter, 
 while my mind was almost overwhelmed with sor- 
 row, you might indeed have seen a sheet of paper 
 filled with the most passionate expressions of ten- 
 derness and grief; but perhaps they would only 
 have served to open your wounds afresh ; whereas 
 my design in what I now write, is, if possible, to 
 pour in balm to heal them. 
 
 " Blessed be God, the .storm that was first raised 
 in my mind, has been by him commanded into a 
 calm ; and the con.solaf ions of God have not been 
 few nor small to nii; on this occasion. And 1 am 
 not widiotrt good hope, (hat if you are not yet 
 
208 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 brought to a sctded composed state of niiiul, tliose 
 considerations «luch relifjion sufjjrcsts, and which 
 have been the happy means of reviving niy sjjirits, 
 and introducing: some considerable measure of 
 lran(|uillity into my mind, may answer the same 
 end, and liavc the same eflVct, upon you. 
 
 " Tlie dear dear man has taken his linal leave 
 of us, with regard to this world ; and we cannot but 
 mourn his departure. The desire of our eyes is 
 taken fron> us ; and it would argue a stupid, insen- 
 sible, savage temper, not to drop a tear, or feel any 
 tender concern under so sad a stroke. The wise 
 Author of our nature did not place these melting 
 emotions of soul for no other purpose but to be 
 rooted out as weeds; and the noblest examples of 
 faith and holiness, courage and magnanimity, w hich 
 are recorded in the Old and New Testament, are 
 represented as dropping a tear upon such an occa- 
 sion. Even the spotless Jesus wept over Lazarus. 
 But the greatest danger is, lest wc abandon our- 
 selves to immoderate sorrow, so to mourn as to re- 
 fuse to be comforted. We are not, with Jacob, to 
 resolve to yo dotvn to the grave mourning, because 
 we are deprived of this or that comfort of life. 
 That you, niy dear, and now only, parent, may not 
 sink under the weight of sorrow, let me lead your 
 thoughts to the following reviving considerations. 
 
 " Let us consider, for our comfort, how long our 
 dear relative was continued to us. It is not the 
 withering of a gourd, which sprung up in a night, 
 and perished in a night, whose friendly shade failed 
 us w hen wc had most need of it, that we now mourn. 
 No, we lament the fall of a full-grown tree, under 
 whose wide-spreading shadow we have long re- 
 joiced. Now, in order to make this allliction sit the 
 lighter, let us compare it with what it would have 
 been had he been taken from us at a time when we 
 his children had all been young, and unable our- 
 selves to make our way through the world ; which 
 we now all have a pretty fair prospect of doing 
 with comfort, by the blessing of God, and the kind- 
 ness of surviving friends. Is it not sonic allevia- 
 tion to our sorrow, to think he lived to bring up his 
 children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord? 
 and may I not add, to see the good ellects of a 
 religious education upon most of them ? 
 
 " However, it must be confessed that the loss is 
 great to us all. Hut then, let us not conlinc our 
 thoughts so much to this mournful part of the sub- 
 ject, as to forget how great a gainer the dear de- 
 parted spirit is by this separation from us. Let us 
 lift up the eye of our faith to the invisible world, 
 and take such a view of the happitiess and glory of 
 those who die in the Lord, as our imperfect state will 
 allow ; and then let us say whether there is any 
 room to grieve and mourn on his behalf. Surely, 
 when wc consider his present advantageous situa- 
 tion, from what he is delivered, and what he now 
 
 enjoys, we could not wish him back again without 
 the greatest breach of friendship. Indeed, as others 
 have well observed on the like occasion, we form a 
 very wrong judgment of the condition of our de- 
 parted friends, when, because we see their breath- 
 less corpses laid in the ground, to become food for 
 worms, we arc overwhelmed with grief, and bitterly 
 mourn over them. This is owing to our ignorance 
 of their state ; as Jacob mourned over the rent gar- 
 ment of his son Joseph, and concluded he W'as de- 
 voured by some evil beast, when indeed he was gone 
 to reign in Egypt. Our dear relative is gone to 
 reign in heaven ; and would wc cling so fondly 
 about him, as to pull him from hh> throne ? lie is 
 gone to possess a part of the land of Canaan above ; 
 and can wc wisli him back, to struggle again with 
 the difliculties of the w ilderness ? Can w e call our- 
 selves his friends, and not rather rejoice in his hap- 
 piness ? 
 
 " This consideration, taken in conjunction with 
 that which is drawn from his being removed from 
 us by the hand of an all-wise and sovereign God, 
 should be allowed to have a due influence upon us, 
 to bring us cordially to acquiesce in this dispensa- 
 tion of Providence. So that I may say to you and 
 myself, as the great Mr. Howe did to one in the like 
 circumstances. If God be pleased, and his glorified 
 creature pleased, who are we, that we should be dis- 
 pleased? O my dear mother, I have had such lively 
 views of the happiness of the dear deceased, that if 
 I have felt any sentiment of grief at that particular 
 instant, it was because I was not in the like cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 " Another consideration which has been a means 
 of quieting and composing my mind upon this oc- 
 casion, and which I would recommend to you, is 
 this, that though our dear relative is taken from us, 
 yet our best Friend is still continued to us. Let us 
 remember, that though our house be not so with God, 
 as we could wish it to be, yet he has made vjith us 
 an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and 
 sure. Therefore let us encourage ourselves in the 
 Lord our God ; and when creature comforts are 
 like broken reeds, and broken cisterns, let us fix our 
 dependence more and more on the Rock of ages, and 
 have more affectionate recourse to the overflowing 
 Fountain of living waters. Let us reflect a little on 
 what it was that rendered our departed relative so 
 amiable and desirable to us ; and then let us further 
 consider, Was not God the author of all ? And can- 
 not he make up our loss abundantly? lam per- 
 suaded I need-not tell one who has enjoyed so much 
 communion with God as you. Madam, have done, 
 that we may hope and expect infinitely more from 
 him as our covenant God, than from the most wise, 
 tender, and powerful friend upon earth. Let this 
 stroke of Providence then engage us to walk closer 
 with our God, to centre in him as our portion and 
 
CHARACTER OF THE 
 
 REV. MR. T. STEFFE. 
 
 209 
 
 happiness, and to derive all our expectations from 
 him. 
 
 " Mj' dear mother, if the communicating to you 
 my experience on this melancholy occasion may be 
 of any service to you, I w ill take the freedom here 
 to assure you, that if ever I could call God my 
 Father, with any considerable degree of filial joy 
 and confidence, it has been since I have had no 
 other, to wliom I could apply that endearing title. 
 — On t/iis God and leather then let us cast all our 
 cares and burdens; cheerfully confiding in him, 
 who has furnished us with the most powerful anti- 
 dote against immoderate grief and anxiety in such 
 circumstances as ours, by declaring himself a 
 Father of the fatherless, and Judge of the ividoic, in 
 his holy habitation.^ 
 
 " But I must by no means omit another thought, 
 so full of consolation, upon this occasion ; that in a 
 little time we shall be restored to this dear husband 
 and fatlier again, and meet and converse with him, 
 on terms of much greater advantage. Though the 
 separation be grievous, yet it is but short. Our 
 days and years are rolling away apace ; and every 
 year and day brings us nearer to our home ; and so 
 brings us nearer to the house of our heavenly 
 Father, and to the mansions of glory, one of which 
 is inliabited by that happy spirit, to which we so 
 lately claimed a near relation. 
 
 " Surely, my dear mother, when we consider 
 where he is, and where we are, we may abundantly 
 satisfy ourselves with this consideration, so much 
 more forcible in such a case, than in that to whicli 
 it was applied, We shall yo to him, thouyh he shall 
 not return to us." 
 
 I believe the reader will easily apprehend, that a 
 person capable of writing in tliis manner upon such 
 an occasion, was well qualified to compose for the 
 pulpit ; and though his tutor did not see this letter, 
 he had a very agreeable proof of it much about this 
 time, (I think, the October, or November, follow- 
 ing,) when Mr. StefTe bore a part in the course of 
 homilies, (as they were called, to distinguish them 
 from sermons,) delivered in the lecture room, upon 
 the being and attributes of God, and the chief 
 points of natural religion. The subject allotted to 
 him was, the imitation of God's moral perfections : 
 and I cannot recollect that I ever heard a better 
 academical discourse from any of the young stu- 
 dents with whom I have been acquainted. It was 
 finished with an accuracy, both of thought, and 
 language, which would have engaged me to have 
 added it to this collection of his remains, if I had 
 found it amongst his papers. But as I did not, I 
 only mention it to show the reason upon which they 
 acted, w ho out of regard to the necessity of several 
 neighbouring congregations then destitute, advised 
 him to ollcr himself to the examination of a com- 
 
 • PmI. Ixviii 5. 
 P 
 
 mittee of ministers deputed for that purpose, in 
 order to his preaching in public. He passed that 
 examination highly to their satisfaction, as they 
 declared by a proper testimonial. And my illness 
 engaged him to preach his first sermon at North- 
 ampton, on the first of January, 1737-8. 
 
 The subject of it was those words. Who am I, O 
 Lord God ? and what is my house, that thou hast 
 brought me hitherto .'f As I have inserted it the 
 first in this collection, which is now in the reader's 
 hand, I need say nothing more to prove, that the 
 general acceptance it met with was very well 
 grounded ; and all I shall add concerning it, is, 
 that I find in a blank page of the notes the follow- 
 ing memorandum, dated April 16, 1738 : " I have 
 heard that this scimon was made peculiarly useful 
 to several persons at Northampton, the first time of 
 its being preached, and the first time of my preach- 
 ing at all. Bless the Lord, O my soul, for the 
 honour he has done to thy poor worthless attempts 
 of service in this instance ! O may it be a happy 
 specimen of far more abundant success to attend 
 my future labours in the ministry !" 
 
 It was before the end of January this year, that 
 tlie Reverend Mr. Stodden, of Taunton, and the 
 heads of the congregation under his care, wanting 
 an assistant, thought proper to apply to Mr. StefFe's 
 tutor, who, knowing the importance of that place, 
 judged it convenient to send him thither as a can- 
 didate. His labours were universally acceptable 
 to that numerous society ; insomuch, that after hav- 
 ing spent two or three sabbaths among them, he re- 
 ceived an unanimous and v-iCSsing invitation to 
 settle there ; which invitation, by the advice of all 
 his friends, he accepted, only reserving to himself 
 the liberty of continuing w here he was till his aca- 
 demical studies w ere completed, which they were, 
 by Midsummer, 1738. 
 
 The last day in v/hich he appeared in the congre- 
 gation to w hich he had so long stood related, w as 
 the 411i of June, 1738, when he preached that ex- 
 eeilcnt sermon with which this little collection con- 
 cludes ; a day w hich I cannot forbear mentioning on 
 two accounts : the one is, that it was the last in 
 which I ever enjoyed tlic pleasure of his labours 
 and conversation, tiiough he lived till that day two 
 years: the other, that I find it was made, by the 
 divine goodness, remarkably comfortable and re- 
 freshing to him. " This morning," says he, in a 
 letter from w-hich I must borrow a few lines, " I 
 took my leave of the pulpit here; and have this 
 afternoon been at the ta!)lc of the Lord, reviewing 
 with a grateful surprise flic various instances of the 
 divine goodness to me ; especially in fixing me in 
 tills place, and making my abode here so comfort- 
 able and advantageous. I have now been renewing 
 my covenant-engagements to my Father and my 
 
 + 2 Sam. vii lU. 
 
210 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 God ; and in this respect 1 would not alter the tliinjj 
 that is jcono out of niy lips, or which has been ex- 
 pressed in the se-. rct languan^c of niy heart. I would 
 not be excused from lovin"; the "jrcat Author of all 
 my mercies ; I would not be discliargcd from his 
 service, if I might. I would not wish for any thina: 
 to lessen my obligations to my dear Redeemer, but 
 for every thing to increase my sense of tlicm." And 
 then he goes on to express his tender synii)athy to 
 his mother, then under confinement by illness, and 
 his longing desire, if it were the will of God, to 
 share the entertainment of God's house and tabic 
 with her, and to dwell with her again, though in 
 the lowest circumstances : in which I believe he 
 alluded to a scheme which he had, of bringing her 
 to Taunton, which, had God spared his life, might 
 have perhaps succeeded. 
 
 What pleasure she had in an interview with him, 
 and in attending his ministry in that visit which he 
 quickly after made her at Wrentham, may be more 
 easily imagined than described. From thence he 
 went to Taunton, and was very joyfully received by 
 bis worthy friend, the Rev. Mr. Stodden, and the 
 wliole congregation under his care. How he acted 
 in this more public scene of life, I have not an op- 
 portunity particularly to say : but am in the gene- 
 ral fully satisfied, that he behaved in such a man- 
 ner, as there was reason, from what we have already 
 seen of him, to hope and expect, and as entitled 
 him tg the affection and esteem of his valuable pas- 
 tor, of the society to whom he preached, and also of 
 many neighbouring congregations, among whom he 
 soon came to have an influence, far beyond what 
 could have been imagined, considering his years. 
 
 I think I have before me all the sermons he com- 
 posed during the two years he continued in this 
 situation, which was all tJie remainder of his valu- 
 able life; and they arc so fairly written, and, so 
 far as I can judge, so carefully finished, that I can- 
 not but suppose they had all, except the last, which 
 was made when his illness began, been written out 
 twice. ■ They are every one of them, so far as I can 
 recollect, upon practical and important subjects ; 
 and, if I may judge from what I have seen, they 
 are such, both for method, thought, and language, 
 that I should have found no difficulty in furnishing 
 out several volumes of discourses equal to most of 
 these which are here published. I cannot find any 
 one of them, in the review of which a wise and good 
 man might not have had reason to rejoice on the 
 borders of eternity ; for all are calculated to pro- 
 mote a reverence for God, and love to him ; to con- 
 vince men of their sin and misery by their apostasy ; 
 to point out the only method of their recovery, by 
 faith in the righteousness and grace of the blessed 
 Redeemer, and a sincere devotedness of soul to God 
 through him ; to awaken careless sinners, to re- 
 animate slumbering Christians, to encourage the 
 
 weak and timorous ; and, in a word, so far as was 
 possible, in every discourse, to give to every one his 
 portion of meat in due season. — Nothing of that 
 solemn pomp of profound reasoning, with which 
 the dullest and emptiest discourses often abound ; 
 none of tliosc aflcctcd and puerile ornaments which 
 make preaching the play of the imagination, and 
 turn the church into a theatre ; nothing arrogant, 
 nothing petulant, nothing censorious ; nothing in- 
 tended to kindle the unhallowed flames of party 
 zeal, and lead men cither to judge or despise their 
 brethren : but all serious, spiritual, and candid ; 
 and, on the whole, such as became a preacher who 
 considered that his sermons were written in the 
 book of God's remembrance, and that he must 
 shortly render an account to him in whose name 
 and presence he had the honour to speak. 
 
 As he was well convinced that religious visits 
 made a considerable part of the care of souls, he 
 did not imagine that his being only an assistant 
 preacher could excuse him from it. He was will- 
 ing to assist his honoured pastor in this, as well as 
 public work ; and as the congregation was so nu- 
 merous, that he perceived he should be a long time 
 going through it, he had his appointed times for 
 visiting some of the poorer families, in which they 
 used to call in their neighbours to share the happy 
 opportunity ; and as pious instruction was the great 
 end of these visits, they seldom or never concluded 
 without prayer; a labour of love, in which he was 
 greatly animated by the writings and example of 
 the great and excellent Mr. Joseph Allen, his pre- 
 decessor ; to whose Alarm to the Unconverted, our 
 author by the way acknowledges, he was under God 
 indebted for some of the first serious impressions 
 that were made on his mind. 
 
 In the mean time, his care of those with whom 
 he was, did not lead him to forget his absent 
 friends, especially the dear family at Wrentham, 
 and that of his tutor. To the latter he wrote several 
 letters, expressing the most lively and affectionate 
 acknowledgment of the care which had been taken 
 of him, though, to be sure, no more than the duty 
 of such an important trust had required. To his 
 friends at home he always expressed the kindest 
 regard, in a variety of instances which I must not 
 here enumerate ; nor must I even insert that im- 
 portant letter which he wrote to one of his brethren, 
 who was removed by death the winter after he came 
 (o Taunton. I must content myself with saying, 
 that he showed not only a pious care, but an ad- 
 mirable skill and dexterity, in the manner of that 
 address : omitting nothing that might tend, on the 
 one hand, to awaken his mind, and to secure him 
 from all presumptuous and mistaken hopes ; and, 
 on the other, to encourage him to lay hold on tlie 
 grace of the gospel in a manner that might be 
 effectual to his eternal salvation. It is merely from 
 
CHARACTER OF THE 
 
 REV. MR. T. STEFFE. 
 
 211 
 
 the fear of extending these memoirs too far beyond 
 their proper bounds, which I fear they have already 
 transgressed, that I refrain from inserting this let- 
 ter at large. But I must with great pleasure add, 
 that his pious care was so successful, that his 
 brother died in such a truly Christian manner, as 
 to leave in the mind of his surviving relatives a 
 most cheerful hope that God had shown him the 
 path of life. 
 
 He carried on a very affectionate correspondence 
 with several of his fellow-students ; in which he 
 expressed the sincerest desire to maintain upon 
 their minds a lively sense of religion, and an active 
 zeal in the service of God. And in such offices of 
 piety and friendship of various kinds he continued 
 till the close of his life. 
 
 I remember, about the beginning of May, 1740, 
 he wrote me the last letter I ever received from 
 him, indeed not quite a month before he died ; in 
 which he expressed himself to the following pur- 
 pose : " The small-pox prevails much in Taunton, 
 and carries off considerable numbers. My friends 
 express a very tender obliging solicitude on my 
 account ; and I endeavour to take all prudent pre- 
 cautions to avoid danger. But I bless God I find 
 my spirits entirely calm and composed as to the 
 event: I cheerfully commit myself to the all-wise 
 and gracious disposal of my heavenly Father; and 
 hope I have no uncertainty before me, but whether 
 I shall be serving Christ in this world or in a 
 better." 
 
 Thus prepared that illness found him, which 
 ended in his death. On the first symptoms of it, he 
 composed a very serious discourse on those words : 
 He feedeth on ashes; a deceived heart hath turned 
 him aside, that he cannot deliver his soul, 7ior say. Is 
 there not a lie in my right hand ? * concerning the de- 
 ceits which sinners practise on themselves, and 
 those lies which they carry in their right hands, to 
 support a foolish and dangerous hope. This was 
 the last sermon he ever preached ; and had he 
 finished the whole of his plan, the reader would not 
 have failed of the pleasure of perusing it. In the 
 mean time I heartily pray, an impression of its im- 
 portant design may remain on the hearts of all that 
 heard it, and of all for whose benefit it was de- 
 signed. ■ 
 
 When he fell ill, it evidently appeared how much 
 he was valued by persons of all denominations, in 
 that continued solicitude which all tiiat knew him 
 expressed for his recovery ; as well as after^i ards, 
 in the universal lamentation occasioned by his 
 death. He himself, though the symptoms soon 
 appeared dangerous, maintained the same compo- 
 sure of mind, that he had expressed in llio more 
 distant prospect, through all the stages of his dis- 
 temper; in which the exercise of his reason was 
 
 ♦ Isa. xliv. 20. 
 
 P 2 
 
 continued, though he did not die till the 22nd day 
 after he was seized. He gave very particular di- 
 rections for the disposal of his affairs a fortnight 
 before his death ; and was frequently, throughout 
 the whole time of his illness, employed in earnest 
 prayer as he lay in his bed, even beyond the strength 
 of his nature. And as he was accustomed to use his 
 voice, he was heard (by one of the family from whom 
 I had this account) to express himself thus : " O 
 Lord, preserve me in the use of my rational powers 
 and faculties, that I may not only perform those 
 things which are necessary to the health of my body, 
 but may also be capable of conversing with thee, 
 and of stretching my thoughts towards the heavenly 
 world ;" and then, after a solemn pause, added — 
 " where perhaps I may quickly be ! I had rather, if 
 it might be for thy glory, continue longer in this 
 world for the good of thy church ; but if thou hast 
 determined this sickness shall end in death, thy 
 will be done !" or words to that effect. 
 
 Some physician, it seems, had unhappily told 
 him, while he was very j oung, that if ever he had 
 the small-pox he would die. On the other hand, 
 his friends did all they could to keep up his spirits, 
 by expressing their hope of his recovery. He ac- 
 knowledged their affection in it, and interpreted it 
 as an instance of their respect ; but intimated his 
 own apprehensions as to the issue, that it would be 
 as it proved. He, on his part, expressed his tender 
 regard for them, by pouring out earnest prayers to 
 God, on their account, as well as on his own ; in- 
 termingling his prayers with his praises. And when 
 he was desired not to spend himself so much, he 
 answered, " As long as I have tongue, I will use it 
 for my Redeemer's praise and service." 
 
 These are the mo.st remarkable circumstances of 
 his illness, which have been transmitted to me 
 from a pious friend, in whose house he lived. He 
 calmly resigned up his soul to God, on Wednesday, 
 .June 4, 1740, having lately entered on the 2.')th year 
 of his age. Not only the mourning habits, but the 
 fears, of vast numbers in that numerous congrega- 
 tion, in which his lot was cast, testified their sorrow 
 for his death ; and we in fliese parts, as well as his 
 friends in Suffolk, had a share, a large share, in it. 
 I am sure, no wise and pious reader will need to be 
 told at large, that not only Taunton, but the wide 
 neighbourhood around, had a loss in the removal 
 of a person of such a cliaracler and abilities, and 
 that it was a stroke long and deeply to be lamented. 
 
 I cannot conclude without acknowledging the 
 divine goodness to my friends amongst whom he 
 laboured, not only in still sparing their valuable 
 pastor, but likewise in sending them from the same 
 place another worthy and excellent assistant, the 
 Rev. Mr. Benjamin Faweett, if I am capable of 
 judging, not on the whole inferior to Mr. StefTe. I 
 should have esleemed his near neighbourhood an 
 
212 SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 iiuiHirtaiil blossiii" to tlicse parts, ami to nio : but a 
 sense of the importanee of the interest at Taunton, 
 and a couipassion to my alllieted friends under that 
 grievous loss tliey ha<l sustained, inclined nic to 
 concur with all their measures for fixingf him amonp: 
 them. Maj God multiply the years of his useful- 
 jiess there, and make him an instrument of ever- 
 lastiiii? tfood to multitudes that arc yet unborn. 
 
 Ha\in;i; said thus much of the author, it may be 
 expected I should say something eonecrninjjf these 
 sermons ; but I shall give no additional recom- 
 mendation of them at all. My love to the person 
 that wrote them may lead me to judge more favour- 
 ably than they deserve ; but the reader may be 
 assured I had a good opinion of them, when I pro- 
 posed the publication : a project, not contrived 
 merely with a view of serving his sorrowful motlier, 
 though if any advantage be made by them, it will 
 be shared, as it ought, between her and the printer, 
 w ho runs the hazard of the edition ; but designed 
 to prolong the usefulness of this dear and lamented 
 youth beyond the narrow limits of his life. I did 
 indeed think, that, considering his age, and con- 
 sidering also that they were composed in no view of 
 publication, they would do some honour to his 
 memory, and would meet with encouragement in 
 various places where he was not personally known. 
 But I especially depended on it, that those at Taun- 
 ton, and in the neighbouring parts, who knew and 
 loved him so w^ell, as I am sure many hundreds 
 there did, would read them with peculiar pleasure 
 and improvement: and the happy disposition pre- 
 vailing in the young persons of that congregation to 
 w^hich he belonged, to associate themselves to- 
 gether for religious purposes, in hours w hen these 
 sermons will give them a delightful employment, 
 Las further encouraged this liope. 
 
 As to the particular reasons which determined me 
 to choose these discourses, and to omit others which 
 some of his friends desired to see, it is not material 
 to enter into them. 1 had not time to read all ;\and 
 therefore took generally those, of which there was 
 not a large number upon a single text, and those 
 which had been most blessed to the good of souls ; 
 some of which I had heard myself, and had pecu- 
 liarly struck my mind. 
 
 What I have done in reviewing them, was but 
 
 OF THE LIFE, &c. 
 
 little. I have here and there added a clause, and, 
 very seldom, a sentence or two by way of illustra- 
 tion. I have also corrected the style a little in some 
 places : sometimes I have contracted a period, 
 which seemed rather too difl'use; and in one place 
 abridged two sermons into one. But I have made 
 no essential or very material alterations at all, either 
 by way of omission or addition : and the greatest 
 liberty I have taken with any, is used with respect 
 to the last. That sermon I myself heard, and it im- 
 pressed me exceedingly. I afterwards found, that 
 it was the first plan of some discourses, branched 
 out into a considerable number at Taunton. I could 
 not publish them all ; and I was so well pleased 
 with what I had heard, that I could not persuade 
 myself to omit it. I was therefore obliged to have 
 recourse to those notes, which I had taken while 
 he was preaching, w hich were generally short hints 
 of sentences, only setting down a few particular ex- 
 pressions, the beauty and energy of which struck 
 me with some peculiar pleasure. The consequence 
 is, that here, though tlie whole scheme and almost 
 all the thoughts arc Mr. Steffe's, the language is 
 often my own. I could much rather have given it 
 to the world in the very words of the author; but 
 as that was impossible, and as on account of throw- 
 ing two of those transcribed from his notes into one, 
 we wanted another sermon to make up the number 
 proposed, I verily thought, I could not do better 
 than to present it to the world as it is ; at least with- 
 out employing too much time in reviewing and com- 
 paring those few single sermons, which might have 
 been considered as proper upon this occasion : and 
 the great pleasure with which my friends had at- 
 tended upon this sermon, and recollect in general 
 the remembrance of it, engaged me to oblige them 
 with this opportunity of reviewing it, for which I am 
 sure of their thanks. 
 
 Nothing further remains, but to commit these dis- 
 courses to the attentive perusal of all into whose 
 hands Providence may bring them, especially of 
 those to w horn the author v/as dear by any peculiar 
 bonds, and to the blessing of that God, with regard 
 to w hose lionour, I am well satisfied, they were first 
 composed, and are now published. 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
A 
 
 COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 ON THE PRINXIPAL SUBJECTS IN 
 
 PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY; 
 
 WITH 
 
 REFERENCES TO THE MOST CONSIDERABLE AUTHORS ON EACH SUBJECT. 
 
 TO WHICH AIIE NOW ADDED, 
 
 A GREAT NUMBER OF REFERENCES, 
 
 AND 
 
 NOTES OF REFERENCE TO THE WRITERS ON THE SAME TOPICS, WHO HAVE AFl'EARED 
 SINCE THE DOCTOR S DEATH. 
 
 BY ANDREW KIPPIS, D. D. F. R. S. S. A. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 BY THE FIRST EDITOR. 
 
 This work was originally drawn up for the use of the students under the Author's care ; but it appears 
 by a clause in his will, that it was his intention it should be published after his decease ; and though it 
 would, no doubt, have appeared to much greater advantage, if the Author had prepared it himself for 
 the press, yet it is hoped that it will not be thought, even in its present form, unworthy of the public 
 view. 
 
 The transcript from which it was printed, I have carefully compared with the original short-hand 
 copy ; and the public may be assured that the Author's sentiments have been every where scrupulously 
 preserved, — no other alterations having been made than such as are necessary in all posthumous works 
 that have not had the Author's last hand. A few references have been added, particularly to some books 
 published since the Author's death, and others omitted, that seemed less important. 
 
 If the reader should think the references under the same head are sometimes too much alike, he will 
 please to consider, that thougli the sentiments in each may be nearly the same, yet the different manner 
 of expression will often serve more fully to explain and illustrate the subject ; besides, that one author 
 may be at hand when the other is not. 
 
 In order to assi.st the reader in consulting particular passages referred to, the reference is always made 
 to the chapter and section, where that could be done ; and as in many cases it could only be made to the 
 page, an account is added at the end of the editions to which such references are made (where the books 
 could be procured) with the number of pages in the volume, which, by the rule of proportion, may be 
 some direction to find the passage in any other edition. - 
 
 As to the work itself, it may be proper to acquaint the public that the mathematical form into which it 
 is thrown, was taken from a work of the same kind, in manuscript, drawn up in Latin, by the Author's 
 Tutor, the Rev. Mr. John Jennings, of Hinckley ; from whom he has borrowed some of the propositions 
 and demonstrations, especially in the former part ; but he has so much enlarged and improved upon the 
 original plan, that the whole may properly be considered as a new work. 
 
 As my regard to the Author's memory, and my apprehension of the usefulness of the work itself, led 
 me to comply with the request of the Author's Widow, to inspect tlie publication of these Lectures, I 
 thought it necessary to give this general account of what has been done in relation to them, for the 
 satisfaction of the public ; and heartily wish they may subserve the cause of learning, religion, and 
 moderation. 
 
 S. CLARK. 
 
 Sirmitiff/iam, 
 'Slst January, 1763. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 In the Life of Dr. Doddridge, prefixed to tlie scventli edition of his Family Expositor, it is observed, 
 Thill in a future impression of the Antlioi 's Course of Lectures, it would be extremely useful to enlarge 
 the list of rcferenees, by introdueing tiie names and productions of those writers who have treated upon 
 the several matters in question, since the Doctor's decrease. It is added, That to a person conversant in 
 the History of Controversies, this would be no very diflieult task ; and that it might, in particular, easily 
 be executed by any gentleman who, as a tutor, has made use of the Lectures as a text-book, and who, 
 consequently, lias lieen in the habit of referring to succeeding authors. 
 
 Though I do not completely answer to the whole of this description, (having only been occasionally a 
 reader on a few detached parts of Dr. Doddridge's Lectures,) I was, nevertheless, readily induced to 
 undertake the business suggested, from a consciousness of the utility of the dcsig'i, and from the hope 
 that I had so far attended to the progress of literature as to be in sonic degree qualified for the employ- 
 ment. At the same time, I entertaincfl no doubt of my being able to obtain assistance from the manu- 
 script references of such tutors as had regularly gone through the Doctor's Course. In this respect I 
 have hap])ily succeeded. The Reverend Benjamin Edwards, of Northampton, has favoured me with the 
 use of his copy of Dr. Savage's Notes, wlieiice I have been supplied with a considerable number of 
 references, several of which might have escaped my own recollection. It is still a superior aid which I 
 have derived from the communication of the references of my late excellent friend, the Reverend Samuel 
 Mcrivale, for some time theological tutor in a protestant dissenting academy at Exeter. For this com- 
 nuinieatiou I am indebted to the Rev. James Manning, of the same city, Mr. Merivale's relation. Mr. 
 Manning, with that zeal for promoting every valuable undertaking which marks his character, and with 
 that friendship which I have experienced in many pleasing instances, voluntarily undertook to transcribe 
 the references in question, together with some other papers that might be conducive to my purpose. By 
 such assistance, united with a due measure of diligence on my own part, the Lectures, in point of re- 
 ferences, will be found to be very greatly augmented. This w ill be particularly apparent to any one 
 who shall take the trouble of comparing the catalogue of authors inserted at the end of the present work, 
 with that which is given in the former editions. 
 
 Besides the new references which pervade the whole body of the text, I have added, at the bottom of the 
 page, many notes of reference, the intention of which is not only to assist theological and other pupils 
 during their academical course, but to point out such sources of information as may be serviceable to 
 them in their future inquiries. It is not to be expected that, in their state of pupilage, they should be 
 able to pay a due attention to one half of the books here specified ; while, at the same time, it may be 
 of great importance to know where hereafter to apply for fresh stores of knowledge and improvement. 
 
 There is one thing which I wish particularly to be remembered, and that is, that it is no part of my 
 design to give general illustrations of the subjects treated upon, — or either to confirm or gainsay the 
 opinions of Dr. Doddridge. This would have been tlie creation of a new work. It is the business of in- 
 dividual tutors to enlarge upon the Lectures in that way which accords with their own sentiments. My 
 sole aim is to mention, with freedom and impartiality, the writers on all sides of the different questions 
 which are the objects of discussion, that hereby the mind of the student may be duly enlarged, and that 
 he may be able with the greater advantage to prose<Mite his searches after truth. 
 
 It is necessary to mention, that not having received Mr. Merivale's references till the work had been 
 printed so far as to the sixty-seventh proposition, I have inserted in an Appendix those which preceded 
 that proposition. A second Appendix contains a list of some productions which either did not occur to 
 my remembrance at the proper time, or have been published since the Lectures were committed to the 
 press. 
 
 I must acknowledge a great error into whicli I have fallen in the note subjoined to the 295th page of 
 the first volume. In that note I have ascribed to Dr. Wm. Wagstafl'e a Treatise on the Future Exist- 
 ence and Immortality of the Animal Creation. The book in question was written by a Dr. Hildrop. 
 The reader will forgive the temporary failure of recollection with regard to a performance which was 
 perused between forty and fifty years ago, and has not since been seen. Dr. Hildrop's work w as, I be- 
 lieve, entitled Free Thoughts on the Brute Creation. 
 
 AND. KIPPIS. 
 
 Westminster, 
 5th August, 1794. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It may not be improper, in the entrance of this Work, to give some general account of tlie plan of it, and 
 some directions for studying it in the most useful manner. 
 
 The Work itself contains an abstract of the most important and useful thoughts I have anywhere met 
 with, on the chief subjects which can be supposed to come under consideration, in the review of 
 Pneumatology, Ethics, and Divinity ; and as these sciences do insensibly run into each other, I judged 
 it not proper to treat of each separately, and so to divide the whole into three distinct parts, the lirst 
 Pneumatological, the second Ethical, and the tliird Theological ; but have chosen to consider them in 
 such a connected view, as might convey to the mind, with the greatest case and advantage, tlie principal 
 truths relating to each. The whole Work is divided, therefore, into ten Parts, and contains in all 2:30 
 Lectures. The first Part (Lect. 1 — 22) considers the powers and faculties of the human mind. The 
 second (Lect. 23—31) the being of a God, and his natural perfections. The tliird (Lect. 52 — 90) treats 
 of the nature of moral virtue in general, and of the moral attributes of the Deity; of the several brandies 
 of virtue, and the nature of civil government. The fourth (Lect. 91 — 100) of the immortality and imma- 
 teriality of the human soul, with its original ; as also our general obligation to virtue, and the state of it 
 in the world. The fifth (Lect. 101— 110) considers the reason to desire and expect a revelation, and the 
 external and internal evidence with which we may suppose it should be attended. Tiie sixth (Lect. 
 Ill — 133) asserts and vindicates the genuineness, credibility, and inspiration of tlie Old and New Tes- 
 tament. The seventh (Lect. 1.34 — 103) contains an account of the Scripture doctrine relating to the 
 existence and nature of God, and the divinity of the Son and Spirit. The eighth (Lect. 1G4 — 187) 
 treats of tlie fall of human nature, and our recovery by the mediatorial undertaking of our Lord .Jesus 
 Christ, with tlie nature of faith in him, and of the covenant of grace established through him. So that 
 the doctrine of Christ's atonement, and the Spirit's inllucnces, are also comprehended in this Part. 
 The ninth (Lect. 188 — 209) is a survey of the chief duties which the gospel requires ; and more parti- 
 cularly of the positive institutions; in which the doctrine of the Christian sabbath, the sacraments, and 
 the con.stitution of the church are considered. The tenth and last Part (Lect. 210 — 230) contains the 
 Scripture doctrine of angels, and of the future state, including the resurrection, and the most remark- 
 able events to precede or attend it. 
 
 These are the great subjects of the Work, — and I believe the very mention of them is sufficient to show 
 how important a part of an academical course it must make, and how much it must be the concern of 
 every prudent and judicious student to give it a large share of his application. 
 
 For the more profitable studying tliis Course of Lectures, it will be advisable that, as soon as 
 possible, after the Lecture has been given, it be carefully reviewed, and the chief references read and 
 contracted ; hut in contracting them, it will be unnecessary to transcribe those passages, the substance of 
 which is already in.scrted in the Lecture : it v\ ill he suflTicient to take some general hints of their con- 
 tents, and to transcribe only those parts which are very peculiar and observable ; and here some dis- 
 tinction is to be made between those books, which may very probably be always at hand in reviewing 
 the Lectures, and those which may not so probably be within your reach. 
 
 A diligent attendance on the course will, 1 hope, be both a pleasure and improvement; yet, I would 
 advise every pupil (if he can) to go over it twice ; for, though the subjects themselves, at the second 
 review, will want the advantage of novelty, yet more thoughts will often arise in lecturing, and the 
 whole will be made more familiar to the mind ; besides, that the student will, by this means, have an 
 opportunity of reading and studying some things, which accidental causes might have obliged him 
 before to pass over w itiiout due attention ; and, for this purpose, it may be very convenient to keep a 
 catalogue of those Lectures, which by absence, illness, or any other accidental circumstance, were not 
 .studied .so carefully as might be wished ; as likewise of those things which did not, in the course of 
 lecturing, appear solved and explained in a satisfactory manner; and if any di(lieiiltics arise which 
 seem peculiar, let them be drawn out in writing, to be lodged in the tutor's hands, or made the subject 
 
 * Tliis Introduction is to be considered as tlie Aullior's Address to lirs own Pupils, wlirn lliey rnlered upon this Course of Lectures; wliitli 
 will show the propriety of some of the directions ttliicli iniglit ollieruise appear loo partienhir and minute. 
 
•218 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of n tlicsis, to bp canvassed at larg^c. In llie moan time, full liberty will be siven fo make any objection 
 or irKiiiirv, from time to time, \\liieli will be examined in the hours of lecture, so far as the limits of 
 tinui and other employments will allow. 
 
 Yet let it be remembered, that the student is supposed to be already acquainted with many things here 
 hroujjht into (juestion. It would be a most fatal mistake, to act as if nothinf^ were known of God and 
 Christ, till the chief doctrines relating to both come to be examined in this course. Many snuill trea- 
 tises, Mhieh may be read in a few hours, contain evidence enough, both of the bein;^ of a God and the 
 trutli of the Christian religion, to satisfy an upright mind, — though it may be convenient that those who 
 are to be the teachers and guardians of these truths, or those who nuiy be exposed to peculiar tempta- 
 tions to doubt or disbelieve tliem, should be acquainted with their evidence in a larger extent. Let the 
 great vital truths of C'hristianity taught in Scripture be constantly regarded. As to matters of contro- 
 versy, let them be referred to their pro])er place, without any eagerness to anticipate them, which often 
 produces great bigotry and error, as well as a neglect of what is proposed to inuncdiatc inquiry ; and 
 may it never be forgotten that matters of abstruse speculation aiul laborious inquiry, are not, even to 
 theological students, the otie t/iiiif/ needful, though they may be important in subordination to it. 
 
 I would remind you, dear Sir, (whoever you are that are going over these Lectures,) that you may enter 
 into eternity long before you can have attended, or even transcribed them ; and therefore, I would be- 
 seech and charge you, by all your hopes and prospects there, that it be your daily and governing care, 
 after having solenuily devoted your soul to God through Christ in the honds of the Christian covenant, 
 to live like his servant, to keep yourself in the love of God, and to endeavour in all things to adorn his 
 gospel. So will you be most likely to succeed in your inquiries, through the communication of light 
 from the great Father of lights ; and so will you be prepared for the infinitely nobler discoveries, enjoy- 
 ments, and services, of the future state, even though you should be deprived of the residue of your days 
 here, and cut short (as many of your brethren have been) in the intended studies and labours of this 
 course. 
 
LECTURES. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 OF THE POWERS AND FACULTIES OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 AXIOM I. 
 
 Existence is a simple idea, which we get both by 
 consciousness and observation. 
 
 Loche's Ess. lib. ii. c. vii. § 7 ; lib. iv. c. ix. § 3. 
 Burnet at Boyle s Led. vol. i. p. 2, 3. Grove's 
 Posth. Works, vol. iv. p. 2, 4. 
 
 DEFINITION I. 
 Whatever our thoughts are immediately employed 
 about, whether as simply perceiving it, or as assert- 
 ing or denying any thing concerning it, is called 
 An Idea. 
 
 SCHOLU'M. 
 
 The definition more frequently given is, that an 
 idea is the representation of a thing in the mind, 
 which the mind immediately perceives ; and the 
 thing itself supposed to exist without our thoughts, 
 is called T/te Archetype of the idea ; but we do not 
 yet choose to assert or deny any thing concerning 
 the external existence of such supposed archetypes, 
 and for this reason have not thought it so proper to 
 use this definition. 
 
 DEFIMTION 11. 
 Whatever exists is called A Being. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 We do not here enter largely into the distinction 
 which the metaphysicians make between ens realr, 
 which exists without any dependence upon our 
 thoughts, and ens rationis, which owes its existence 
 to its being the object of them, nor into the question 
 between the Realists and Nominalists ; but " y Beinij, 
 in the process of this discourse, we mean ens rcalc." 
 Watts's Ontol. c. xvi. Watts's Loijic, p. 27, 28. 
 
 * Tlic knowledge of tliesc distinctions, and of the di-sputcs carried 
 on concerning Ihcm, by the schoolmen, may hereafter be sou^jlit for in 
 Enfield's History of Pliilosoidiy, and in other works. Much informa- 
 tion of this kind occurs in several articles of Baylc's Dictionary. 
 
 DEFINITION III. 
 
 Whatever is contained in the adequate idea of 
 any being, is called its Properties. 
 
 C0R0I.L.\RY 1. 
 
 A being is the same, w ith all its properties taken 
 together ; and, therefore, 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 We can have no conception of any substance 
 distinct from all the properties of the being in which 
 they inhere ; for this would imply that the being 
 itself inheres ; and so on to infinity. 
 
 Jennings's Log. Def. 15. Locke's Ess. lib. i. 
 c. iv. § 18; ib. lib. ii. c. xiii. § 19,20; ib. 
 c. xxiii. § 2, 3, 6. Watts's Philos. Ess. ii. § 1. 
 DEFINITION IV. 
 Body is an extended solid being. 
 
 Gravesend's Phys. 1. ii. c. iii. ^ 9, 12, 18. Le 
 Clerc's Phys. lib. v. c. iii. § 1 — 3. Locke's 
 Ess. lib. ii. c. iv. 
 
 AXIOM II. 
 
 Thought is a simple idea, which we get by re- 
 flecting on what passes in our own minds. 
 
 Camb. sur V Exist, p. 277, 278. Crouzaz's Log. 
 vol. i. p. 10. 
 
 DEFINITION V. 
 Spirit is a thinking being, or a being which has 
 the power of thought. 
 
 Loche's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxiii. § 18. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 We have as clear an idea of spirit as we have 
 of body, — the essential properties of each being 
 equally known, and the inward constitution equally 
 unknown. 
 
 Loche's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxiii. % 1.5. Proced. of 
 Understand, p. 74 — 78. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 We arc at least as certain of the existence of 
 
2-20 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 spirit as of body. Tlie former we know by con- 
 sciousness, whicb is always infallible ; tlie otlier by 
 Ihc senses, whicb may be mistaken. 
 
 Descartes Princ. part i. § 7 et 11. Lochc'g 
 Ess. lib. ii. c. xxiii. § 31. 
 
 SCIIOLU'M I, 
 
 The Cartesians tliought that those primary and 
 essential properties of body and spirit, mentioned 
 in Def. 4 and 5, were the respective substances' 
 whence all their other properties flow ; and Dr. 
 Watts maintains the same opinion ; urging, that 
 lliey agree with the received definition of substance, 
 as they support tlie accidents of figure, size, colour, 
 &c. in bodies ; and doubting, fearing, willing, Sec. 
 in spirit ; and both subsist independently on human 
 power. lie further pleads, that we have no idea of 
 the support of these properties ; and that if these 
 be destroyed, nothing will remain. 
 
 Descartes Princ. part. i. § 53. Watts's Ess. 
 ii. prcrsert. § 2, 3. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 2. 
 
 A power of communicating motion by impulse is 
 improperly mentioned by Mr. Locke among the es- 
 sential properties of body ; and that of moviug a 
 body by volition among those of spirit. 
 
 DEFINITION VI. 
 Natural Philosophy is that branch of learning 
 which relates to boch/ ; giving an account of its 
 various phenomena, pnd the principles on which 
 the solution of them depends. 
 
 DEFINITION Ml. 
 Pnei'matolog Y is the doctrine of spirits, or that 
 branch of science which relates to them. 
 
 DEFINITION VIII. 
 Ethics is that branch of learning by which 
 our faculties are directed to that manner of acting 
 by which we may obtain llie highest happiness, i. e. 
 the supreme enjoyment of which our natures are 
 capable. 
 
 LECTURE II. 
 
 DEFINITION IX. 
 
 The Hi'MAN Mind is that in or of a man whicli 
 thinks. Watts's Ess. ii. p. 59. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 The human mind is a spirit. Comp. Def. 5. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Descartes, in his definition, calls it " A thinking, 
 incorporeal, incxtended substance, which shall sur- 
 vive the body to which it is united, and with which 
 it was immediately created by God, in order to form 
 a perfect man." It is evident that on this defi- 
 nition it will be matter of much controversy whether 
 
 man has a mind or not ; yet he deflncs it something 
 otherwise in his Principles. 
 
 Descartes Princ. part. i. § 8. 
 AXIOM III. 
 
 It is evident that men have not one common Con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 corollary. 
 Every one has a mind peculiar to liimself. 
 
 More's Immort. of the Soul, lib. iii. c. xvi. 
 p. 212 — 210. Dillon on the Resurrect, p. 
 4C7— 471. 
 
 AXIOM IV. 
 
 Volition is a simple idea, which we get by re- 
 flection. 
 
 DEFINITION X. 
 Action signifies volition, with the effect which we 
 will. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Nothing can act but spontaneously. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Nothing but a thinking being can act ; for spon- 
 taneity implies an idea of the action to be per- 
 formed. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Action is commonly, though in a less proper 
 sense, applied to irrational, and even inanimate, 
 beings, when the body immediately employed in 
 producing a new eflcct, is said to act upon that in 
 which it is produced ; as the sun-beams upon the 
 earth, the fire upon fuel. Watts's Ontology, p. 342. 
 
 DEFINITION XI. 
 As that being which acts is called Thp Agent, 
 so that which is acted upon is called The Patient, 
 whether sensible or insensible, or whether the action 
 produced be a pleasing or displeasing effect. 
 
 DEFINITION Xn. 
 Pleasure and Pain are simple ideas. That which 
 tends to produce the former, is called Natural 
 Good ; and that which tends to produce the latter, 
 Natural Evil. 
 
 corollary. 
 
 The loss of good is evil, and the removal of evil 
 is good. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 See an unnecessary description of Pain in 
 
 Collier's Ess. part iii. p. 1.* 
 
 AXIOM V. 
 
 Power, whether active or passive, is a sensible 
 idea, which wc get by observing the changes pro- 
 duced in the beings about us by agents and pa- 
 tients. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxi. § 1, 2. 
 
 DEFINITION XIII. 
 Those properties or powers of any spirit, whereby 
 
 * The design of this scholiimi, which has hecn severely censured, 
 was only to convince the student, by a remarkable instance, of the .nb. 
 surdity of attempting to describe simple ideas. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 221 
 
 it is rendered capable of action, enjoyment, or suf- 
 fering, are called Faculties. 
 
 PROPOSITION I. 
 To take a survey of the principal faculties of the 
 human mind. 
 
 SOLUTIOX. 
 
 1. We find within ourselves a power of perceiv- 
 ing, abstracting, compounding, comparing, dis- 
 cerning, judging, reasoning, which all lead us on 
 in the pursuit of truth, i. e. in the right apprehen- 
 sion of the nature of things, and are called by the 
 common name of Understanding. 
 
 Duncan's Logic, ap Precept, vol. ii. 1. i. c. i. 
 § 4; ib. 1. ii. c. i. § 1 ; ib. 1. iii. c. i. §1,2. 
 
 2. The power of retaining and recollecting our 
 ideas in tlie absence of their archetypes, is what we 
 call Memory; but when ideas or trains of ideas 
 occur, or are called up by memory in a lively man- 
 ner, and without regard to the order of former 
 actual impressions and perceptions, it is said to be 
 done by the power of the imagination or fancij. 
 
 Hartley on Man, vol. i. Introd. p. 3. Balgui/'s 
 Six Serm. p. 44 — 46. Balguy's Ser. vol. i. 
 p. 357—359. 
 
 3. We perceiTe, on many occasions, various com- 
 motions in our minds; (which also produce changes 
 and impressions, not only on the nerves of the brain, 
 but in the exterior parts of the body ;) which com- 
 motions we call Passions. Pleasure and pain are 
 the great hinges on which they turn ; and the more 
 particular modifications of them will be considered 
 in Prop. 13. 
 
 Dr. Watts describes them thus : — " They are 
 sensible commotions of our whole nature, both soul 
 and body, which are occasioned by the perception 
 of an object according to some special property that 
 belongs to it." ( Watts on the Passions, p. 5.) To 
 excite them, it must appear rare and uncommon, 
 good, i. e. agreeable, or evil, i. e. disagreeable. * 
 
 4. A power of forming volitions ; which Locke 
 defines to be the act of the mind knowingly exert- 
 ing that dominion it takes itself to have over any 
 part of the man, by employing it in or withholding 
 it from any particular action : but what that evert- 
 ing its dominion is, can only be known by conscious- 
 ness. Ax. 4. Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xxi. § 15. 
 
 5. A power of moving some parts of the body. 
 Others ifchas no immediate power over, the motion of 
 some being always involuntary, as that of the heart. 
 In other parts, it is sometimes voluntary and some- 
 times otherwise, ps in the lungs and intestines. 
 
 Descartes de Pass. 1. i. § 13, 16. 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 We find by experience that these faculties are in 
 
 Twl'"f V^ """^Ir'ne of the Passions compare A Short 
 
 d 27p "'*,f^='«"""'.''X Df-T. Balguy, in the Appendix to liis 
 JJinne Rcncvolence assirt. d : an 8vo pamphlet, published \a 1781 
 
 our own minds ; and we perceive, by their effects, 
 they are in the minds of others. 
 
 COROLLAUY 1. 
 
 Man is a being of great abilities and excellences ; 
 so that if it shall hereafter appear that he was pro- 
 duced by any other intelligent being, it may reason- 
 ably be concluded, that he was designed for great 
 and important purposes. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 While these faculties continue in a degree of 
 vigour, he must be capable of great and noble 
 improvements: so that much of the difference be- 
 tween persons, in other respects equal, will depend 
 upon the degree in which this natural furniture is 
 cultivated or neglected. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is not proper to speak of the understanding and 
 Other faculties of the soul as if they were distinct 
 principles of action : — the understanding is the soul 
 understanding ; the will is the soul willing ; and to 
 represent them as distinct agents, produces confu- 
 sion in our ideas. 
 
 Witsii Econ. Feed. 1. iii. c. vii. § 4, 5. Locke's 
 Ess. 1. ii. c. xxi. § 17 — 20. Crouzaz's Logic, 
 vol. 1. part i. c. viii. § 6. p. 144. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The power which the mind evidently has of mov- 
 ing the various parts of the body, by nerves inserted 
 in the muscles, is truly wonderful, seeing the mind 
 neither knows the muscles to be moved, nor the 
 machinery, by which the motion in it is to be pro- 
 duced ; so that it is as if a musician should always 
 strike the right note on a very complex instrument, 
 which he had never seen before. That no laws of 
 mechanism can produce this, is proved by its being 
 voluntary, as well as by other considerations. 
 
 Cheyne's Princ. c. ii. § 12. p. 20 — 35. Matho, 
 vol. i. p. 359, &c. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is questioned whether there be any motion in 
 the human body which depends upon the mind, and 
 yet is involuntary. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Berkley entirely denies the power of abstraction, 
 as an evident absurdity and inconsistency ; and 
 says wc have only a power of making one particular 
 idea a representation of all the rest : but this is all 
 grounded upon an unwary expression of Mr. Locke. 
 The truth is, that we do not positively exclude, but 
 only overlook, a part of the idea from which we 
 abstract; v. g. when I conceive of a line by abstrac- 
 tion, f I do not deny that it is either straight or 
 crooked, but only think of the flowing of a point, 
 without determining its direction. 
 
 + For a farther ehicidation of this subject, recourse may be had to 
 Rcid's Intellectual Powers of Man ; and Mr. Dugald Stewart's Elements 
 of the Philosophy of the Human Mind. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Loclte ih. I. ii. c. xi. § 9. licrklctj's Priiic. 
 Introd. ^ 6—20. Proved, of Undcrst. p. 18G— 
 188. 
 
 LECTURE III. 
 
 PROPOSITION It 
 To survey tliosc plienomoiia observable in Brute 
 Animals, wliieh seem to bear some resemblance to 
 the faculties of the human luind. 
 
 SOLL'TION. 
 
 1. They seem to have a power o{ perception ; v. tj. 
 to see, to hear, to smell, to taste, and to feel ; and 
 it seems that it is by this power that those bodies, 
 which wc call Animal, are distinguished from tliose 
 that arc inanimate. Locke's Ess. 1. ii.c. ix. § 11. 
 
 2. They seem also to have memory ; which ap- 
 pears by the marks of their recollecting a train of 
 ideas, when one that has a relation to the rest is, 
 by sensation, presented anew ; aud especially by 
 birds perfecting- themselves, bj' practice, in tunes 
 they have imperfectly learnt. 
 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. e. x. ^ 10. Proced. of the 
 Underst. p. 138—162. 
 
 3. They appear capable of exerting volitions, and 
 of putting them into execution by correspondent 
 motions of their bodies. 
 
 4. They appear to be impressed whh passions ; as 
 joy, sorrow, fear, hope, desire, gratitude, auger, 
 &c. and sometimes in a very violent degree. 
 
 5. They appear not to have the power of abstrac- 
 tion ; because they do not use articulate sounds as 
 the signs of their ideas, though the organs of some 
 are capable of pronouncing them. 
 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xi. ^ 10, 11. Proced. of 
 
 the Underst. p. 188, 189. 
 Gr. 5. 6. They are incapable of any high degree 
 of reasoning, since that evidently depends upon ab- 
 stract ideas. Object. Many of their actions seem 
 rational. Ans. They are, and in so higli a degree, 
 that if they were governed by any reason of their 
 own, they would exceed the sagacity of the gener- 
 ality of men : yet in other instances they appear 
 mere idiots ; and in tlic actions of the same species 
 there is so little variety, that wc cannot imagine 
 this to be the case. This must therefore be granted 
 to be a very strange phenomenon. 
 
 Spectat. No. 120, vol. ii. p. 139. Spect. de la 
 
 Nat. vol. 1. part ii. p. 70, 71. Collib. Inq. 
 
 into the Exist, p. 86, 87, ed. 1. p. 100, 101, 
 
 ed. 3. Beattie's Dissertations, p. 60 — 71. 
 
 Iteimartis's Dissertations, p. 216 — 218. 
 
 COKOI.LAUY 1. 
 
 The Cartesian hypothesis, that brutes are mere 
 machine?, is very incredible, since tliesc phenomena 
 
 can by no means be accounted for on any me- 
 chanical laws, nor upon any principles, which will 
 not prove it possible that those which appear to us 
 human creatures may be mere machines, and not 
 only irrational but insensible too.* 
 
 Descartes de Method, k C>. p. 34—36. Le Clerc's 
 Phi/s. 1. 4. c. xii. § 9 — 13. Ray's Wisdom of 
 God, p. 54 — 37. Proced. of the Understand. 
 p. 170 — 174. Ess. upon Iluntiny, p. ,32 — 92. 
 Rry. Philos. Conv. vol. iii. p. 83—83. Dit- 
 ton on the Resurrection, p. 392 — 400. VVatts's 
 Ruin and Recovery, Appendix, Essay 1. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It is evident that man is a creature superior to 
 the brutes, though some authors have endeavoured 
 to sink him to a level with them. — Vid. Prop. 1. 
 mount's Anima Mundi, p. 40 to 46. 07-iy. 
 adv. Celsum, lib. iv. p. 217 to 222. GcUi's 
 Circe by Layng, pass. Ditton on the Resur- 
 rection, p. 393. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 That Plants are a species of animals, and have 
 some sort of sensation, is strongly maintained, 
 though with no appearance of reason, by 
 
 Redi de Generat. Insect, p. 245—249, 257—260. 
 Edwards's Exercit. No. viii. ad fincm. f 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 
 DEFINITION XIV. 
 
 That may be called a man's own Body which is 
 the animal system over which his will exercises an 
 immediate power, and by the organs of which ideas 
 are transmitted to his mind ; and that is to be ac- 
 counted a VITAL part of it which partakes of its 
 vegetation. 
 
 PROPOSITION III. 
 To enumerate the principal phenomena of the de- 
 pendence of the human mind on the body. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. When the nerves of the body are moved, ideas 
 are presented to our minds whether wc will or no, 
 according to the diflerent senses to which those 
 nerves serve which are put into agitation ; that is, 
 certain ideas in the mind succeed to certain motions 
 in the brain. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. i. § 25. Cheyne's Prin- 
 cip, c. iii. ^ 39. p. 228, 229. Descartes de 
 Pass. § 34. Descartes Prin. part iv. § 197. 
 p. 216. 
 
 2. Passions are often excited by bodily motions ; 
 
 + This hypothesis was adopted for a time by some of the followers of 
 Cartesius, and was embraced liy Dr. Watts. It is now universally ex- 
 ploded ; and w as never worthy of any serious consideration. 
 
 + This idea has lately been revived, and seems to be r.atlier growing 
 into fashion. See an ingenious Essay on the subject, by Dr. Pcrcival, 
 in the Manchester Philosophical Transactions. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY, 
 
 223 
 
 and on the other hand, when raised, produce changes 
 in the body, sometimes even contrary to our voli- 
 tions ; 17. g. in anger and blushing. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xx. § 17. Descartes de 
 Pass. § 97—106, 113—135. 
 
 3. When the body is indisposed, the mind is 
 often disabled from using its faculties : v. g. the 
 understanding is disabled by drunkenness and 
 sleep, — motion, by the palsy, — memory, by diseases, 
 &c. 
 
 4. When the senses are gently and naturally shut 
 up, and the command over the body intermitted, as 
 in sleep, if we think at all, we are said to dream ; 
 and generally wander through airy tracks of thought, 
 which have no agreement with each other, nor are at 
 all corrected by the judgment. Ideas fetched out 
 of the memory seem to us to be produced anew ; 
 and out of mere simple ideas laid up in the memory, 
 new imaginary ideas of substances are formed, and 
 seem to be produced by external objects. When 
 the senses are obstructed in a violent and unnatural 
 manner, as in a swoon, if we think at all, we may 
 observe the same phenomena, but in a still more 
 languid degree. 
 
 Lime-street Lect. vol. ii. p. 442, 443. Descartes 
 Dioptrics, c. vi. § 17. Rohault's Phys. lib. 
 iv. c. 19. Lucret. lib. iv. ver. 903—1024. 
 Herv. Med. vol. ii. p. 43, in Note. 
 
 5. In a frenzy, though the senses be not shut up, 
 nor the command of the mind over the body sus- 
 pended, yet the same phenomena are found as in 
 sleep, only in a more vivid and pathetic degree. 
 
 Aretaus de Morh. Acnt. lib. ii. c. iv. v. p. 17. 
 Boer. Ed. Vid. Boer. Not. in loc. 
 
 6. Sometimes, by very intense thinking, we do 
 not attend to impressions made on the organs of 
 sensation, nor receive ideas from them. This, in a 
 very high degree, may be called a trance or ecstasy. 
 
 Plutarch's Lives, vol. ii. p. 435, 436. Locke's 
 Ess. lib. ii. c. ix. § 3, 4. Ihid, c. ii. § 19. p. 
 1 — 3. Flavel's Pneuniat. ap. Opera, p. 276, 
 277, Edin. ed. vol. i. p. 475, 476, Land, 
 ed. Gualperius in Acts x. 10. Col. Gar- 
 diner's Memoirs, § 30—32. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Man is a very feeble creature, and we have little 
 reason to boast of those intellectual powers, tlio 
 exercise of which, by the very constitution of our 
 nature, does not only depend upon an animal sys- 
 tem, but is necessarily subject to frequent long in- 
 terruptions, as in tlic state of sleep. 
 
 Burnet's Theory, vol. ii. p. 164. Camh. sur 
 V Exist, p. 176, 177. Hervey's Contempl. vol. 
 ii. p. 39, 40, 48—50.* 
 
 * From all these c-irciimstances recent pliDosnpliers have dediired ar- 
 gument" to prove tliat tlic soul is not distinct from the body On tliis 
 Hide of the nucstion, the subject has been copiously discussed by I*r. 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is queried. To what are we to ascribe the dif- 
 ference to be found in the intellectual capacities of 
 men ? 
 
 Answer. — The principles of physiognomy, the 
 decay of the faculties in old age, the destruction or 
 restoration of them by corporeal accidents, and 
 many of the phenomena mentioned in the proposi- 
 tion, may convince us that the temperature and con- 
 stitution of the body has a great influence on the 
 mind. It must also be allowed, that the circum- 
 stances of education and conversation, may make a 
 considerable difference between persons in other 
 respects equal. Yet if we attend to the variety 
 there is in all the works of tiature, we may be in- 
 clined to think there is a like variety in the internal 
 constitution of human souls ; which conjecture is 
 confirmed, by observing that no visible difference 
 has yet been discovered between the brain of the 
 weakest and the most sagacious of mankind ; as 
 well as that persons in the same circumstances, and 
 with the same opportunities, often make very dif- 
 ferent improvements. t 
 
 Descartes de Method, suh itiit. p. 1. Watt/s 
 Death and Heaven, p. 97 — 102. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Some have distinguished between the rational 
 and the animal soul, as if they were two distinct 
 beings, calling the former the Spirit, the latter the 
 Soul. They suppose the intellect and will are 
 seated in the former, the passions and appetites in 
 the latter ; and that the Soul is a principle common 
 to brutes, which therefore they sometimes call by 
 very contemptible names, as the horse, the brute, 
 Vc. whereas they think the Spirit is peculiar to 
 man. Vid. Prop. 1. Sch. 1. 
 
 Proced. of the Underst. lib. ii. c. x. p. 367, 370 
 —377. Marc. Anton. lib. ii. § 2 ; lib. iii. § 
 16 ; lib. xii. ^ 3, with Dac. Notes. Descartes 
 de Pass, part i. § 47. Pope's Iliad, lib. xxiii. 
 ver. 122, vol. vi. p. 61, 62. Mason on Self- 
 Knowledge, lib. i. 0. ii. p. 14. Vitring. Obs. 
 lib. iii. c. iv. praef. §2 — 8. 
 
 DEFINITION XV. 
 The Soul is said to be seated in that part of the 
 body where sensation terminates, and voluntary 
 motion begins. 
 
 PROrOSITION IV. 
 The Soul is seated in tlic Brain. 
 
 Priestley, in his Disquisitions concerning Matter and Spirit ; and by 
 Mr. Cooper, in his Philosophical Essays. On the other side, see Be- 
 rin^ton's Letters on Materialism; his Immaterialism delineated ; Gif- 
 Crird's Outlines of an Answer to Dr. Priestley's Disquisitions; and 
 Belsliani's Essays, vol. ii. p I— .iO. 
 
 + These objects of speculation, being more curious than immediate- 
 ly useful, may well be referred by younjj students to future consider- 
 ation. 
 
2-24 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Tlie luMvcs, on wliich sensation and motion 
 evidently tlepond, terminate in tlie brain, or in the 
 mfdullu spinalis, which is derived IVoni thence, and 
 whose fibres are probably all continued to it. 
 
 2. If a straight li<:;ature be made on any nerve, 
 or it be cut asunder, sensation eonliniies in tliat 
 part nearest the brain, and ceases in that wliicli is 
 more remote. 
 
 In men, and in most other animals, death im- 
 mediately ensues, if the head be cut off, or the 
 brains taken out, or the cereheUum wounded. 
 
 4. All known distempers that immediately take 
 away sensation, arc seated in the head. 
 
 Grad. 1 — 4. Dif. 11. 5. The soul is seated in the 
 brain.— Q. E. D. 
 
 Keil's Anat. c. vii. M. Move's Immnrt. of the 
 Soul, lib. ii. c. vii. § 10. Watts's Ess. iii. 
 p. 78—80. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 The ancients were mistaken in placinn- it in the 
 heart ; and Vmi Hihnont in the mouth of the stomach. 
 It may be observed, by the way, that Philo, who, 
 with many ancients, supposed the sensitive soul to 
 be subdivided into the irascible and eoncupisciblc, 
 placed tlie former in tlie heart, the latter in the 
 belly, while he thought the rational was seated in 
 the head. 
 
 Vitringa uhi supra, § 4. suh Jin. 3Iore, ibid. 
 lib. ii. c. vii. § 5 — 10. Descartes dc Pass. 
 § 28. 
 
 SCHOLIUM I. 
 
 It must still be matter of controversy, in what 
 part of the brain the soul is seated. There is no 
 reason to think, as some have imagined, that it is in 
 the vieninyes ; but whether it be in the pineal gland, 
 as Descartes supposes, or, as Dr. More tliinks, 
 among the animal spirits in the fourth ventricle, or 
 in the corpora striata, as has been lately maintained 
 in France, or in some part different from any of 
 these, we cannot certainly say.* 
 
 Descartes de Pass. § 32. More, ibid. lib. ii. e. 
 vii. § 12 — 18. 0. viii. per tot. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The constitution of some animals may perhaps be 
 dilTerent from tliat of men in this respect. It is 
 certain the phenomena mentioned gr. 3, are not al- 
 ways to be found in them ; for wasps will live a 
 long time after their heads are cut off ; eels are 
 soonest killed by striking them on the tail ; and 
 vipers will live some hours after their heads are cut 
 off, and their bowels taken out. 
 
 More, ibid. lib. iii. c. xv. § 1, 2. Bacon's Nat. 
 Hist. Cent. 4, No. 400. 
 
 * The question corrcrnins flic seat of tlie mill, for a long time ex- 
 cited the iittention of philosophers, ;in<l h is been the suliject of various 
 discussion. At present, we believe that it is deemed of little im- 
 portjuce. 
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 
 DEFINITION XVI. 
 Any idea or proposition is said to be innate 
 when it is not actjuired by the use of the faculties, 
 but so implanted in the mind from its original, as 
 to be common to the whole species, independently 
 upon any circumstances in which individuals may 
 be placed. 
 
 PROPOSITION V. 
 There are no innate ideas in the human mind. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. There can no simple idea be assigned, but may 
 be traced up to sensation or rcjicclion, or both : v. 
 g. to one sense alone ; as seeing green, hearing the 
 sound of an organ, smelling a rose, tasting a peach, 
 feeling solidity, &c. or more ; as extension, motion, 
 rest : to reflection only, as perception, volition, du- 
 ration : or sensation and reflection both, as existence, 
 and various kinds of pleasure and pain. — Ax. 1. 
 
 Locke, lib. ii. c. iii. v — vii ; Ibid. c. i. § 2, 7 — 9. 
 
 2. We see that simple ideas are acquired gra- 
 dually, and the furniture of various persons differs 
 according to their various circumstances in life. 
 
 Locke, lib. ii. c. i. § 2, 5, 7, 20—23. 
 
 3. When the organs of sensation arc destroyed, 
 simple ideas proper to them are no more acquired ; 
 and those who, from their birth, want proper or- 
 gans, want correspondent ideas, even though they 
 be ever so important to the comfort and usefulness 
 of life. 
 
 Locke, lib. i. c. iv. § 20 ; ibid. lib. ii. c. iii. § 1. 
 
 Grad. 1 — 3. 4. It is needless and unreasonable 
 to suppose that any simple ideas are innate. 
 
 5. Compound ideas are made up of simple ones ; 
 nor can we, by any operation of the mind, produce 
 any idea, how chimerical soever, the materials of 
 which we are not already possessed of. 
 
 Locke, lib. ii. c. ii. ^ 2 ; ibid. c. xii. § 8. 
 
 Grad. 4, 5. 6. It is needless and unreasonable 
 to suppose any of our ideas innate. Q. E. D. 
 
 Proced. of the Underst. p. 382—384; More's 
 Philos. Works, lib. 1. c. 5, 6. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Dr. Watts supposes there are three sources of 
 our ideas, viz. Sensation, Reflection, and Abstrac- 
 tion ; but since he grants that the materials of the 
 last arc derived from the two former, this cannot be 
 reckoned a third primary source, any more tlian 
 compounding. 
 
 Watts's Phil. Ess. iii. § 16. p. 93 -97. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Brow^n, in his Procedure of the Understanding, 
 maintains that we have all our ideas originally from 
 sensation; but his proof depends cutirely upon his 
 
I 
 
 ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 definition of the word Idea, which he takes for a 
 picture or representation of some sensible object 
 laid up in the imagination ; which is different from 
 our definition of it. — Vid. Def. 1. 
 
 Proced. of the Underst. p. 55, 63 — 66. Dr. 
 Price's Review of the 3Iorals, c. i. ^ 2. Lord 
 Monhoddo on the Origin and Progress of 
 Language, vol. i. p. 1 — 184. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Most of those ideas which arise from reflection, 
 come into the mind later than those which arise 
 from sensation. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. i. § 8. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Many errors in our ideas of sensation are rectified 
 by reflection. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. ix. § 8, 9. Smith's Optics, 
 ■vol. ii. Append, p. 27, 28. Locke's Fam. 
 Lett. p. 134 — 138 ; Watts's Logic, part ii. c. 
 iii. § 3. p. 200. 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 
 PROPOSITION VI. 
 There are no innate propositions in the human 
 mind. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. All propositions consist of ideas; therefore, 
 innate propositions would imply innate ideas, con- 
 trary to Prop. 5. Locke's Ess. lib. i. c. iv, § 19. 
 
 2. If any propositions could be supposed innate, 
 it must be those that are intuitively discerned ; but 
 these, though assented to as soon as proposed, are 
 not known before such proposal, even by those 
 whose minds are least corrupted by education and 
 custom ; which shows (by the way) that they can- 
 not be the principles of all our knowledge, — not 
 being themselves first known. 
 
 Ihid. lib. i. c. ii. § 4, 16, 21—27. 
 
 3. All propositions relating to identity and diver- 
 sity of ideas may be intuitively discerned, and con- 
 sequently must be innate, if intuitive discerning 
 were the mark of an innate proposition; but this 
 would imply, that alj our ideas were innate, which 
 is evidently absurd. 
 
 Ibid. lib. i. c. iv. § 4, 5; ibid. lib. iv. c. vii. % 4. 
 
 4. Propositions, supposed innate, cannot be dis- 
 tinguished from others, so that a complete catalogue 
 of them should be made ; yet this might reasonably 
 be expected if any were so, and would be necessary 
 to render them useful. 
 
 Ibid. lib. i. c. iii. % 15 ; ibid. c. 4. § 21, 
 
 6. Several of those propositions, which are of 
 greatest importance in morality, and seem most 
 evident, and are therefore most likely to be innate, 
 
 Q 
 
 225 
 
 are unknown to some, and expressly contradicted 
 by others, and all need proof. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. i. c. iv. § 4 — 13. Sale's Prrf. 
 to the Koran, p. 131, 132. Watts's Ess. iv. 
 § 1. Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. 381. 
 Gr. 1 — 5 6. Valet propositio. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It may be granted that there are certain circum- 
 stances, in which it is impossible for the mind to 
 avoid receiving certain ideas, and assenting to cer- 
 tain propositions, and even taking them for granted 
 in all its reasonings ; and this is the necessary con- 
 sequence of its constitution. It may also be granted, 
 that there is something in natural temper disposing 
 to gratitude, compassion, &c. as effectually as if 
 propositions recommending them were inscribed 
 upon the soul ; but this is by no means incon- 
 sistent with what has been said above ; and in this 
 sense Mr. Locke owns innate practical principles 
 as the desire of happiness. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. i. c. iii. § 2. Watts's Ess. iv. 
 § 2—4. p. 100—102, 104—107. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The dream of innate ideas seems to have arisen, 
 on the one hand, from the desire of teachers to 
 impose their own sentiments upon their disciples, 
 as sacred truths stamped on their minds by the 
 Author of Nature ; and, on the other, from the ease 
 with which such principles have been early re- 
 ceived, and the assurance with which they have 
 been assented to, so that people cannot remember 
 that they have ever doubted of them.* 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. i. e. iii. § 21 — 26. Ihid. c. iv. 
 
 § 24. Inquiry concerning Political Justice, 
 
 vol. i. p. 12—18. 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION VII. 
 The same external qualities in objects, may ex- 
 cite different ideas in difl"erent persons, 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. If the organs of sensation be at all different, 
 the ideas of the same object must be proportionably 
 so, while the same laws of nature prevail. 
 
 2. It is probable, there may be some degree of 
 difl"crcnce in the organs of different persons ; v. g. 
 in the distance of the retina and crystalline lui- 
 
 * Tile iloctrinc of innate ideas and innate projionilions was \oug 
 inaintaineil ; and Mr. I.ocke wa-s obliged to take murli pains upon llic 
 .siiliji'ct. Tliouj;h the .system is now generally exploded, there h.is ap. 
 peared in a few late writers a tendency to revive something like innate 
 propositions, under the terms of the " Principles of Common Sen.se." 
 l)r. Reid is guarded upon the subject : but his followers have not been 
 e(|iiallv prudent. See Beattic's Inmintability of Truth, and more espe- 
 cially Dr. Oswald's A|)peal to Common Sense in Itehalf of Religion. 
 Sentiments very similar to those maintained by these gentlemen had 
 lonK before been advanced by I'erc IJutfier, in his First Truths, and the 
 Origin of onr Opinions explained : a translation of which work, from 
 the French, wiis published in 1780. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 inour of till' eye, in tlic dcftiee of extension in tlie 
 tynipanum of the ear, in the aeiiniony of the saliva, 
 &c.; and the variety which is observable in the 
 faces, the voices, and tlie bones of men, and almost 
 through the whole face of nature, would load us to 
 suspeet that the same variety mif^ht take place here. 
 
 Those lhing;s which are very pleasing to one, 
 arc extremely disagreeable to another. 
 
 4. Those tilings wliich are at one time very 
 agreeable, are at another very disagreeable to the 
 same person, when the organs of his body are indis- 
 posed, or wlien other disagreeable ideas are asso- 
 ciated with those th.it had once been grateful. 
 Gr. 1, 2, and 4, 5. Valet prnpositio. 
 
 Locltf's Essay, b. ii. c. xxxii. § 15. Ars Corji- 
 tantli, p. i. e. i. Le Clerc's Lor/ic, p. i. c. i. 
 § 15. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Though the causes mentioned above may probably 
 produce ideas-which dillcr in (kgrce in the minds of 
 difl'ercnt persons, there is no apparent reason to 
 suppose they diflcr in their hind; v. (j. tliat what 
 appears green to one should constantly appear red 
 to another, — and vice versa. 
 
 Malehranche' s Research, 1. i. c. xiii. § 5, G. 
 
 RohatiWs Phys. part. i. c. xxvii. § 6. vol. i. 
 
 p. 197. Philosophical Transactions, vol. 
 
 Ixviii. part ii. for 1778. 
 
 PROPOSITION VIII. 
 To survey the phenomena of the human memory 
 with the solutions that have been given of some of 
 them. See Prop. 1, yr. 2. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. A vast stock of ideas are treasured up in the 
 memory, which it easily produces on various occa- 
 sions. 
 
 The Cartesians say, that objects, coining in "by 
 sensation, and ideas got by reflection, make traces 
 in the brain : but how exquisitely fine must these 
 be, when in so small a compass the names and 
 images of so many objects, as well as so many 
 propositions and arguments, are inscribed ! Who 
 can sufliciently admire it, not oidy in such extra- 
 ordinary cases as are mentioned l)y Dcrham, &c. 
 but in those cases wliich are most common ! 
 
 Derham's Phys. Theol. 1. v. e. i. p. 202. Des- 
 cartes de Pass. §42. Cicero's Tusc. Disp. 1. i. 
 § 2^1, 25. Watts's Ess. iii. § 13, 14. RoUin 
 Mauiere, S,-c. vol. i. p. 275—277. August. 
 Coiifcs. lil). x. c. 7. Scnec. Controv. lib. i. 
 sub init. 
 
 2. We can distinguish ideas brought out of the 
 memory from those that come in by sensation or 
 reflection ; perhaps, by the liveliness of the impres- 
 sion, or by the train of relations. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. li. c. 10. c. vi. § 5, G. Des- 
 cartes de Pass. § 26. 
 
 .'1. Ideas, of which wc have but a general and 
 imperfect remembrance, may often be recovered by 
 recollection. 
 
 Watts's Ess. iii. § 15. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. x. 
 §7. 
 
 4. Memory, in a great measure, depends upon the 
 body, and is often much injured by a disease, and 
 afterwards recovered with recovering strength, 
 which, on the Cartesian hypothesis, is accounted 
 for, by supposing that those parts of the brain on 
 which these characters are written, are, by such 
 disorders, relaxed, in the same manner as the nerves 
 in the other parts of the body are liable to be weak- 
 ened or disabled. 
 
 3. The memory differs at different ages. Cliildrcn 
 soon forget, as they soon learn ; old people learn 
 with dilliculty, and remember best what they learnt 
 when young ; that is, say the Cartesians, because 
 the brain, growing by degrees more dry, retains old 
 characters ; but docs not easily admit new. 
 
 G. Dreams generally make little impression on 
 the memory ; because, say some, the animal spirits 
 are then but gently moved. 
 
 Watts's Ess. No. V. § 2. 
 
 7. An idea, attended with great pleasure or pain, 
 makes a deep impression on the memory, j. e. a 
 deep trace on the brain, the spirits being then 
 violently impelled. Lochc's Ess. lib. ii. c. x. § 3. 
 
 8. The power of recollecting differs extremely at 
 different times : and it is generally strongest w hen 
 we are most brisk and lively. 
 
 9. We remember that best in the morning which 
 wc learnt just before we went to sleep ; because, say 
 the Cartesians, the traces made then are not apt to 
 be effaced by tlie motions of the spirits, as they 
 would, if new objects of sensation had presented 
 themselves; and during this interval, they have, as 
 it were, time to stiffen. 
 
 10. Sensible ideas gradually decay in the memory 
 if they be not refreshed by new sensations, the 
 traces perhaps wearing out ; yet they may last 
 many years. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. x. § 4, 5. 
 
 11. When a train of ideas is very familiar to the 
 mind, they often follow one another in the memory 
 without any laborious recollection, and so as to 
 arise almost instantaneously and mechanically ; as 
 in writing, singing, &e. the traces between them 
 being worn like beaten roads. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxxiii. § 6. 
 
 12. The memory is a faculty which is almost in- 
 cessantly exercised while thought continues (though 
 the instances of laborious recollection arc compara- 
 tively few) : nor do we ever find the human mind 
 entirely stript of it, though it be often impaired. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 227 
 
 LECTURE IX. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 The probability of the Cartesian hypothesis will 
 appear from considerin^r, 
 
 1. How w ell it agrees with the various pheno- 
 mena mentioned above. 
 
 2. The analogy upon this hypothesis between 
 sensation and memory, the one arising from impres- 
 sions made on the brain, the other depending on 
 traces continued there. 
 
 3. The instances in wh'ch memory has been al- 
 most wholly lost at once bj' a sudden violent blow 
 upon the head ; insomuch, that a great scholar has 
 entirely lost the knowledge of letters by it, and has 
 been forced, with infinite labour, to begin again 
 from the elements of them ; and, in other instances, 
 the recollection has been gradual, and the events of 
 childhood and youth have been recovered first. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 The memory is a useful faculty, which deserves 
 to be carefully cultivated by attention and exercise, 
 frequent reviews and conversation. 
 
 Free-thinker, No. 72. Rollin's Man, Vc. vol. i. 
 p. 277—279. Watts's Improv. of the Mind, 
 part. i. c. xvii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM I. 
 
 The artificial metliods which some have proposed 
 must be allowed to be very ingenious ; but perhaps 
 are rather calculated to improve a memory already 
 good, than to help a bad one. 
 
 Rollins Maniere, f^c. vol. i. p. 279, 280. Grey's 
 Memoria Technica. Bruen's Life, p. 56 — 58. 
 SCHOLIl'M 2. 
 
 The excellency of the memory consists partly in 
 its strength of retention, and partly in its quickness 
 of recollection. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. x. § 8. 
 
 SCHOMIM 3. 
 
 If the Cartesian hypothesis should be admitted, 
 memory will still continue a great mjstery ; for it 
 must be acknowledged impossililc thoroughly to 
 explain how either that «r sensation should be 
 affected by any impression on the brain, or what 
 connexion there can be between such impressions 
 and thought in any of lU modes. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Mr. Locke accounts for the association of ideas, 
 which is the cause of antipathies and many errors, 
 with other strange phenomena, by memory ; sup- 
 posing such traces arc worn on the brain as unite 
 ideas, so that when the mind turns to one it should 
 almost necessarily fall on the other too. See Solu- 
 tion, yr. 11. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxxiii. §7 — 18. Hartley 
 on Man, Prop. X. XI. vol. i. p. 65—72. 
 Q 2 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 If the Cartesian hypothesis be admitted, it must 
 be owned that nothing gives a greater idea of the 
 minuteness of the parts into which matter may 
 actually be divided, than the smallncss of tliose 
 traces, by which so many dictionaries, histories, 
 poems, &c. are transcribed, and so many pictures 
 exactly drawn in miniature.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 It is probable the weakness of memory in infants 
 may be one chief cause of their being so long be- 
 fore they come to the use of speech, as well as the 
 waiit of dexterity in using the organs of it. 
 
 LECTURE X. 
 
 AXIOM VI. 
 
 We get our ideas of Succession, by observing 
 the train of ideas passing through our minds one 
 after another. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xiv. § 4. 
 
 PROPOSITION IX. 
 The swiftness and slow-ness of the succession of 
 ideas in the human mind have certain limits. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Some motions arc so swift, and others so slow, 
 that they cannot be seen. 
 
 2. Motion is always successive. 
 
 3. Could our ideas succeed each other as fast as 
 the bodies move in one case, and as slow as they 
 move in the other, the motion would become visible. 
 
 1,3. 4. The swiftness and slowness of ideas 
 coming in by sight, have their limits. 
 
 5. There is equal reason to believe it with regard 
 to other ideas ; as some of liic like phenomena mny 
 be observed concerning some ideas that come in by 
 hearing. 
 
 6. We are not able to retain one idea long in the 
 mind without any variation ; nor can we call up 
 any given number of ideas in any given time ; v. y. 
 we cannot think over ten verses between oiu; vibra- 
 tion of the pendulum and another. 
 
 Gr. 4, 5, and 6. 7. Valet propositio. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xiv. § 6 — 14. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It is evident that there are various, degrees of 
 velocity in the ideas of different persons, and of the 
 same person at different times ; partly according 
 to the temper in uliicli he is, and partly according 
 to the degree in which he exercises his volitions ; 
 and where the velocity is the same, it will seem 
 
 * That memory is an ori};in,il faculty, given us by tlic Author of our 
 Ijcinsf, of wliich we can pive no account, but tliat we arc .so niade, is 
 muiritainfd by I»r. UcicI, in his Lssays on the Inlcllcctual Powers of 
 Man, p. .lO.'J — 310. For an account of tlic ilin'crcut tlicorics concerning 
 Memory, see the same .'.ulhor, p. 338— 3.5G. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 •22K 
 
 greater in proportion as the kinds of ideas arc more 
 varions. }y'atts's Ess. No. xii. § 2. 
 
 AXIOM VII. 
 
 The idea of Di ration is a simple idea, wliich we 
 get by rellecting on the succession of our ideas. 
 
 Locke's Ess. i7'. § 1 — 3. 
 
 COROLLAKY. 
 
 When we arc insensible of the succession of our 
 ideas, we are also insensible of duration. 
 
 Locke's Ess. ib. § 4, 5. 
 DEFINITION XVII. 
 Time is a part of duration, measured by some 
 supposed eipial succession, — a certain number of 
 which niakcs a j)eriod or epocha. 
 
 Locke, ib. § 17. Aitr/ust. Confess, lib. ii. c. xiv. 
 (ipud Jackson's Works, vol. i. p. 883. 
 
 SCHOLIUM I. 
 
 The revolutions of the heavenly bodies serve for 
 a convenient measure of time, seein<^ they arc long, 
 various, publicly visible, and nearly equable ; yet 
 any phenomena, returning periodically and regu- 
 larly, (i'. (/. the freezing of water, the blowing of 
 flowers, a fit of the ague, &c.) might, with regard to 
 any particular person, answer the same end. 
 
 Locke, ib. § 19, 20. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Nevertheless, in the absence of such assistance, 
 the train of ideas passing through a man's mind may 
 be to himself the measure of time ; though neither 
 this nor any other measure can be demonstrated 
 entirely equable. Locke's Ess. ib. § 21. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 When the duration of any being is said to be 
 cither long or short, it is only as compared with that 
 of other beings. 
 
 Free-thinker, vol. iii. No. 114. Le C/erc's 
 Loific, part i. e. iv. § C. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 The same part of duration may appear of diflcr- 
 ent lengths to different persons, and to the same 
 persons at dilfcrent times. See Prop. 7. Sckol. 
 
 Spectator, vol. ii. No. 94. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Hence we may learn the reason why years {ctrteris 
 paribvs) appear longer to us while very young, 
 than as we grow up to riper age ; because the ob- 
 jects being newer, strike the mind more forcibly, 
 and so tire succession is more observed than when 
 they grow more familiar to the mind. The like 
 may be observed of the day we spend in a strange 
 place, or a road we arc not used to travel ; yet if, 
 by frequent repetition, a thing is grown tedious to 
 us, it appears of a longer duration, because we 
 mingle many other ideas with it ; and therefore, on 
 the whole, there is a greater succession. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 If an Almighty Power be supposed, it may make 
 that part of duration which ai)i)cars but a moment 
 to one, appear a thousand years to another, or a 
 much greater period, and vice versa ; which is indeed 
 an amazing thought. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Time is not (as it has often been said to be) the 
 measure of motion ; but motion is one, though not 
 the only, measure of time ; for if there were no 
 material world, and so no motion, there nnight still 
 be time, if there were any intellectual beings viiose 
 ideas succeed each other. See Sckol. 1. 
 
 Locke's Ess. ib. § 22, 23. Jackson's Works, 
 vol. i. lib. V. c. xiii. § 2. p. 8S1, 882. Rcid's 
 Intellectual Powers of Man, p. 310—314, 
 322—331. 
 
 LECTURE XI. 
 
 DEFINITION XVIII. 
 
 Those Properties or Qualities of bodies are called 
 Primary, which are in them whether we perceive 
 them or not, (y. g. bulk, number, figure, situation 
 of their solid parts, motion, rest, &c.) but those 
 ideas which, by means of these primary qualities, 
 are excited in our minds, as colours, sounds, smells, 
 tastes, &e. (being vulgarly but falsely supposed to 
 be in bodies,) are called Secondary Qualities. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. viii. ^ 8—22. Watts's 
 Ess. No. iii. p. 81—85. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Mr. Locke further divides secondary qualities into 
 those that are immediately perceivable, i. e. by the 
 ideas which the bodies themselves produce in us ; 
 and those that are mediately perceivable, i. e. by 
 the changes which we see them produce in other 
 bodies. Locke's Ess. ib. § 23—26. * 
 
 PROPOSITION X. 
 
 To enumerate several instances and causes of 
 the imperfection of human knowledge. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. We are ignorant of many things for want of 
 ideas ; perhaps, w anting proper organs for such kind 
 of ideas, and certainly wanting such an intensencss 
 of those organs which w e have, as would be neces- 
 sary to discover many things which arc now con- 
 (rcaled from us by their distance or minuteness. 
 This occasions great imperfections in our know- 
 ledge both of body and spirit. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iv. e. iii. § 23 — 27. 
 
 2. We are not able to discern the connexion 
 between many of those ideas which we have, parti- 
 
 » See this whole nialtcv am|ily ilisciissed hy Dr. Ueid, in his Intel, 
 lectual Powers of Man, p. 75—302. 
 
 i 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 229 
 
 cularly that between the primary and secondary 
 qualities of bodies, which is a great impediment to 
 physical inquiries. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iv. c. iii. § 9 — 17. lb. c. vi. 
 § 11—15. Watts' s Ess. No. iii. § 9. 
 
 3. Few important propositions are intuitively 
 known ; and all demonstrative knowledge depends 
 upon the memory, — which, being fallible, brings 
 some degree of uncertainty on what we learn by it. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iv. c. ii. § 4 — 7 ; ih. c. iii. § 3 ; 
 0. xi. § 9—11. 
 
 4. We are often obliged to judge by analogy, the 
 particulars of which are generally very imperfect, 
 and come vastly short of a complete induction. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iv. c. xii. § 9; c. xvi. § 12. 
 
 5. The various avocations of life, an indolent 
 temper, and wrong methods of pursuing knowledge, 
 hinder our attaining what might otherwise come 
 within our reach. Ibid. lib. iv. c. iii. § 30. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Since our knowledge is so limited, it must be of 
 great use and importance to know the limits of it. 
 Locke's Ess. lib. i. c. i. § 4 — 6. Mason on Self- 
 Knowledge, p. 62. Butler's Serin. No. xv. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 1. 
 
 Nevertheless, we are not destitute of capacities 
 and opportunities for coming to the knowledge of 
 those things on which onr happiness most evidently 
 depends. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. i. c. i. § 5; ib. lib. iv. c. xi. 
 § 8. Jonval's Lett, in Nat. displayed, vol. i. 
 p. 277—290. 
 
 .SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The question. Whether there be any material 
 world or not? will come in with greater advantage 
 hereafter; yet were the negative to be granted, 
 (which Bi.shop Berkley maintains,) the same diffi- 
 culties with those above mentioned would occur, 
 with a little alteration of phrase. 
 
 LECTURE XII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XI. 
 To inquire wherein personal identity consists. 
 
 .SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Mr. Locke suppo.scs it consists in a continued 
 consciousness of the same actions ; and thence in- 
 fers, that, if the consciousness of one spirit w ere to 
 be transferred to another, they would both make 
 but one person ; and that, if any spirit should lose 
 all consciousness of its former actions, it would 
 from that time become a dilTerent person. To con- 
 firm this, he pleads that, when it is evidently ap- 
 parent that consciousness is lost, i. e. in rase of 
 phrenzy, when a man is beside himself, the sober 
 
 man is not punished for the actions of the madman, 
 nor the madman for the actions of the sober man : 
 but I think this may be accounted for another way, 
 without supposing that the law looks upon them as 
 different persons. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxvii. § 9 — 27. 
 2. To this Dr. Watts very justly objects, that 
 fancied memory might make two men, born in the 
 most distant places and times, the same person ; or 
 real forgetfulness might make the same man different 
 persons ; v. g. Lee, the tragedian, when distracted, 
 might be successively Alexander, Socrates, Tully, 
 Virgil, Luther, Queen Elizabeth ; and therefore 
 Lee, when distracted, might justly be rewarded or 
 punished for all the different actions which he 
 ascribes to himself; and finally, several men might 
 become the same person. This he thinks is contrary 
 to the common forms of speech, and to true phi- 
 losophy. 
 
 Wutts's Ess. No. xii. § 7. p. 294—308. 
 He therefore concludes. That the same person, 
 in an incomplete sense, is the same intelligent sub- 
 stance or conscious mind; but in a more complete 
 sense, is tke same soul united to the same body ; or, 
 in other words, that, while a spirit is united to a 
 body, the same continued animal life, in union 
 with the same spirit, generally attendied with the 
 same consciousness, goes to constitute the same 
 person. If the question be started relating to a 
 supposed resurrection, it is answered, That if the 
 resurrection precedes the dissolution of the body, 
 it does not alter the common forms of speaking ; 
 but if the body be dissolved, we may refer it to an 
 after-inquiry how far and in what cases it may be 
 said to be the same. Mr. Locke also acknow- 
 ledges this to be most probable ; so that the chief 
 question between them is only about the applica- 
 tion of the word person in a case that is never likely 
 to happen, ». c. of transferred consciousness : yet, 
 for this very reason, I think Dr. Watts's notion is 
 to be preferred ; and, to conclude, if God should 
 utterly destroy the soul and body of any man whom 
 we know, and afterwards create a new spirit, 
 united to a new body, and in form resembling the 
 other, and give to it the exact consciousness of the 
 man whose body and soul was destroyed, and 
 should reveal to us what he had done, we could 
 not converse with this new produced man as the 
 same man we formerly knew, or approve that as an 
 equitable conduct, by which he should be rewarded 
 or punished for the actions of the annihilated man. 
 This abundantly shows the impropriety of Mr. 
 Locke's manner of .stating the question, and how 
 much Dr. Watts's is to be preferred to it. 
 
 Watts's Ess. ib. p. 301—306, .308—313. Locke'i 
 Ess. ib. § 2.'i. Le C'lerc's Onlalogy, c. ii. §7. 
 Butler's Analogy, diss. i. p. 43!) — 450, 8vo 
 edit. ; p. 305—309, 4to edit, of 17.36. 
 
230 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCIIOLllM 1. 
 
 iMr. Lorlvo sccnis to have been led into lliis mis- 
 take, by considering; what we commonly call our- 
 selves, rather than wliat we call the same person, 
 when speaking o{ another ; (Vide Locke vhi supra, 
 § KJ;) yet it is plain we do not make conseioiisiiess 
 the onh/ rule even here, since no one is conscious 
 of his havin"' been born, nor of many other events 
 and actions of his lile, which nevertheless, upon 
 the evidence of reason and testimony, without con- 
 sciousness, he would not at all scruple to apply to 
 himself. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 2. 
 
 If we have two ideas of bodi/, in all respects the 
 same, for instance, of a book or watch, we judge 
 that they have the same archetype, if each of the 
 ideas have the same relation to certain times and 
 places ; for wc know that two bodies cannot be at 
 the same time in the same place. As for the ques- 
 tion, Whether two spirits may or not ? — it depends 
 upon the doctrine of the immateriality ; and it is 
 proper to defer the examination of it till wc have 
 proved that there is some immaterial spirit. 
 
 Essay on Personal Identity, published for Rob- 
 son, 1769. Defence of Mr. Locke's Opinion 
 concerning Personal Identity, printed at Cam- 
 bridtje, ami sold by Johnson, 1769. Reid's 
 Intellectual Powers of Man, p. 315 — 321. 
 332—337. 
 
 LECTURE XIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XII. 
 To inquire, Whether men think always without 
 intermission ? 
 
 COMPARISON OF ARGUMENTS. 
 SECT. I. FOR THE AFFIRMATIVE. 
 
 If there be a time when the soul does not think, 
 the existence of it as a spirit is destroyed ; and we 
 can imagine nothing to remain unless it be somc^ 
 thing merely material. Now there is no apparent 
 reason to think the soul thus exists by intervals ; 
 and, therefore, we must conclude it always thinks. 
 
 To this it is replied. That such a definition of the 
 soul as implies continual actual thought, is beg- 
 ging the question in dispute. When actual thouyht 
 is suspended, there may remain some secret power 
 of thinking, resulting from tiie constitution of the 
 soul, which will exert itself when the obstruction is 
 removed. As a bow when bent has a disposition 
 to straighten itself again, or a clock to strike, 
 though the hammer be held back. 
 
 To this it is answered, We can have no idea of 
 this power. If the power of thinking be not the 
 very substance of the soul, there must be some un- 
 known substance in which the power inheres ; nor 
 
 can we imagine how it awakes itself again to actual 
 thought. 
 
 It is further objected. That the various degrees of 
 intenscness of thought, which wc all perceive, seem 
 to prove that thought is not the essence of the 
 soul ; for then it must be uniform and constant. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xix. 
 But it may be replied, That the least degree of 
 thought is thought, as the finest particle of matter is 
 matter. On the whole, it must be granted, that, if 
 it be hereafter proved, without this proposition, that 
 the human soul is inmiaterial, tliore will be some 
 considerable weight in the argument ; if the con- 
 trary be proved, there will be very little. 
 
 Watts's Ess. No. v. ^1. p. 116—118. Locke's 
 Ess. lib. ii. c. i. § 10 — \9. Inquiry concern- 
 ing Political Justice, p. 335 — 340. 
 
 SECT. II. FOR THE NEGATIVE. 
 
 Arg. 1. If we think in our sleep, we think in 
 vain ; and it is not to be thought we are so consti- 
 tuted as that this should be necessary. 
 
 Ansicer. If all our forgotten thoughts are in vain, 
 many of our waking thoughts are so; for how few 
 can we perfectly recollect ! We may as well argue 
 against our existing at all without thought, as a 
 useless thing. Besides, there is perhaps in sleep 
 some continued sense of pleasure, which the wise 
 Author of Nature might connect with so necessary 
 a support of life as sleep is. To which we may 
 further add. That the uninterrupted thought of every 
 rational spirit, whether remembered or forgotten, 
 may make a part of a scheme, in the general 
 right and useful, though the advantage of it in 
 some particular instances may not appear. As we 
 may suppose with respect to those minerals or 
 metals in the bowels of the earth, which are never 
 in fact discovered. 
 
 Locke, ib. § 15. Watts's Ess. ib. § 3. p. 127, 128. 
 
 Ai-g. 2. Infants, who have but few ideas, sleep 
 much ; probably before, and to be sure after, their 
 birth ; but is it to be imagined they are all that 
 while necessarily employed in thinking? 
 
 Ans. It is allowed they have few or no ideas by 
 reflection ; (for the thought of a learned Scottish 
 anatomist, who pretends they are then forming the 
 heart and lungs for their respective olTices, seems 
 too extravagant to be particularly examined;) but 
 ideas of sensation they have early, — perhaps some 
 strong sensations of the mother communicated to 
 them before the birth ; but when the soul is first 
 united we know not. 
 
 Locke's Ess. ib. § 17, 21, 22. Watts's Ess. ib. 
 p. 129—131. 
 
 Arg. 3. As we fall asleep we seem gradually to 
 approach to a state of insensibility ; it is therefore 
 probable that at length we arrive at it. 
 
 Ans. If by inrscnsibility be meant ineogitation. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 231 
 
 the phenomenon is denied. The same kind of argu- 
 ment maj- prove, that matter might be annihilated 
 by continual division. 
 
 Locke's Jj^ss. lib. ii. c. xix. § 3, 4. 
 
 Arff. 4. We do not remember that we tl;ink in 
 many of our sleeping hours, therefore how can we 
 know that we do ? 
 
 -471*. Dreams may be entirely, or but imperfectly, 
 or not at all, remembered, according to the various 
 degrees in which the nerves are impressed by the 
 motion given to the animal spirits in sleep. Besides, 
 daily experience shows us, that occurrences of the 
 day bring to mind dreams, which, in the morning, 
 we had forgotten ; and we have often a general 
 remembrance that we have dreamed, though we 
 know not of what ; to which it may be added, That 
 people sometimes, in their sleep, discover marks of 
 great emotion, when, if asked in the morning what 
 it was that disquieted them, they do not perhaps 
 know ; so that though it would be very ridiculous 
 to argue, from universal experience, that we always 
 think in our sleeping hours, this will be an un- 
 answerable objection against any other argument ; 
 nor can it possibly prove that we ever cease from 
 thinking, any more than breathing, which we also 
 forget ; or than forgetting the circumstances of our 
 birth will prove we v,'ere never born. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. i. § 13, 14, 18. Watts's 
 Ess. ib. § 2. p. 120—125. 
 
 Arg. 5. It might be expected that those operations 
 of the soul should be most rational, in which it is 
 most abstracted from the body ; whereas, by what we 
 remember of our dreams, we perceive the contrary. 
 
 Ans. It may be a law of the creation, that, during 
 our union with the body, a certain disposition of 
 the nerves, generally wanting in sleep, should be 
 necessary to rational and connected thought; and 
 that such a wild play of the animal spirits as arises 
 from the obstruction of the nerves should cause 
 roving imaginations, which therefore, by the way, it 
 is no dishonour or detriment to forget. 
 
 Locke's Ess. ib. § 16. Watts's Ess. ib. % 3. p. 
 12G, 127. 
 
 Art;. 6. If a man thinks without knowing it, the 
 sleeping and waking man are two different persons. 
 
 Ans. If by hnowiny it be meant rcmcmberinif if, 
 (which it must mean if it be at all to the purpose,) 
 they cannot be different persons, according to Mr. 
 Locke's principles of identity, unless every instance 
 of forgetfulness makes a man a new and different 
 person ; and then how many thousands and millions 
 is every man! This objection would suppose two 
 distinct incommunicable consciousnesses acting in 
 the same body by intervals, as in sleeping and 
 waking ; which none ever maintained. 
 
 Locke's Ess. ib. § 12. c. xxvii. § 23. Watts's 
 Ess. ib. p. 12.5, 126. 
 
 Arg. 7. If the .soul always thinks, there must be 
 some innate ideas, contrary to Prop. 5. 
 
 Ans. There must be some one idea at least or 
 perception ; but that it is this rather than that, 
 does not arise from the original constitution of the 
 soul, but from the circumstances in which the body 
 to which it is united is placed ; (thus it might have 
 been the idea of colour as well as heat ;) so that 
 Supposing the soul at the first moment of its union 
 with the body to Jiave the idea of heat, this would 
 not prove heat to be an innate idea. — Def. 16. 
 
 Locke's Ess. ib. k 17, 20, 21. See on this sub- 
 ject, Baxt. on the Soul, vol. i. p. 330— 34G ; 
 and note (a) octavo edit. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It may not be amiss here to mention the argument 
 which Mr. Baxter has drawn from the phenomena 
 of dreams, to prove the existence of some immate- 
 rial spirits by which they are suggested ; though 
 the particular manner, in which that strange and 
 seemingly inconclusive argument is managed, can- 
 not here be largely represented, and need not be 
 particularly confuted. 
 
 Baxter on the Soul, c. x. passim, oct. ed. vol. 
 ii. ^1. 
 
 LECTURE XIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION XIII. 
 To take a more particular survey of the Passions 
 of the human mind, according to Dr. Watts's dis- 
 tribution of them. See Prop. 1. Sol. tjr. 3. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 An object may be considered as rare and nncom- 
 mon, as good or evil in the general, or with respect 
 to the various kinds of good or evil, and the par- 
 ticular circwmsfance* that attend it. 
 
 1. If an object be in the general considered as rare, 
 it excites admiration ; sudden wonder is surprise ; 
 great wonder is astonishment. This passion has no 
 opposite. If an object appear good in the general, 
 it excites lovs ; if evil, hatred. 
 
 These are primary passions ; and those under 
 the next head are derived from the two last 
 of these. ^ 
 
 2. As to the various kinds of good and evil ; con- 
 sidering an object merely and absolutely as valua- 
 lilc, it excites esteem, which, in a very high degree, 
 is veneration, and, in a supremo degree, is adora- 
 tion. If it be considered as worthless, it excites 
 contempt, especially if it be proposed as excellent. 
 If it be considered as fit to receive good from 
 us, it is tlie object of benevolence or good-will; if 
 fit to receive evil, of malevolence or ill-will : but 
 it is to be observed, that this passion centres only 
 on sensible objects, /. e. on objects capable of per- 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 fcption. II" the ohjei't be considered as fit to do me 
 fjood, or allbrd me any present pleasure, it produces 
 complaecncy ; if the contrary, displaccncy. Com- 
 placency in any very hish degree towards an in- 
 ferior, or on considerations not adequate to thai 
 degTce of regard, is fondness ; the opposite to which 
 is ili.if/ust or loathinp;. 
 
 Tlierc may be benevolence where there is no 
 complacency ; but a high degree of com- 
 placency ^\ithout benevolence is hardly 
 conceivable. 
 
 ii. As to the various cirnnnstanccs in which tlie 
 good or evil object is considered, it may be cither 
 present or absent. 
 
 (1.) Future good considered as possible excites 
 desire, which is the great spring of action ; if evil 
 be considered as possible, it excites aversion. 
 
 (2.) If there be a probable prospect of obtaining 
 absent good, it excites liope ; if evil be likely to 
 come upon us, it produces fear. The highest de- 
 gree of hope is confidence or security ; when little 
 remains, there is despondency ; and when hope is 
 entirely banished, despair succeeds. Fear, joined 
 with foresight, is anxieti/ ; with careful contrivance 
 to avoid it, is solicitude ; mingled with surprise, 
 and rising to a violent degree on a sudden, is ter- 
 ror ; and a high degree of aversion attending the 
 idea of any object we apprehend or reflect on, is 
 horror. 
 
 (3.) Good obtained awakens joy ; evil actually 
 endured brings sorroiv. Moderate joy is f/Iadness ; 
 sudden and high joy is exultation ; habitual joy is 
 cheerfulness. Moderate sorrow is trouble ; great 
 sorrow is distress and anguish ; habitual sorrow is 
 melancholy. Congratulation is the sentiment and 
 expression of joy arising from the happiness of 
 another. Pity and compassion is sorrow arising 
 from the distress of another. Sympathy compre- 
 hends both; envy is the contrary of both. Jealousy 
 is a species of envy, arising from an apprehension 
 of preference given to another person in the afl'ec- 
 tions of one for whom we have a peculiar regard. 
 Shame may be reckoned as a species of sorrow, at- 
 tended frequently with blushing, arising from a 
 consciousness, imputation, or apprehension of any 
 thing that appears to be matter of disgrace in our- 
 selves, or others we are concerned for, i. c. when 
 likely to expose us or them to the contempt of 
 others. 
 
 (4.) When any intelligent being designedly brings 
 good upon us it excites yratitudc ; when evil, anyer. 
 With respect to our fellow-creatures, gratitude is a 
 mixture of complacency and benevolence ; anger is 
 displaccncy, with some degree of malevolence. 
 When anger rises to an excessive degree, it is 7-af/e 
 and fury ; when it is deeply rooted, it is rancour 
 and spite ; when arising on trifling occasions, and 
 
 expressed in little tokens of resentment, it is 
 
 peevishness. 
 
 When an affront is apprehended, beneath ns or 
 any other person to whom it is offered, it excites 
 indiynation ; and when anger is attended with a 
 desire of hurting another, it is called malice ; and 
 when this is in consequence of an apprehended in- 
 jury, revenge. 
 
 Watts on the Passions, § 2. p. 4—9, cd. 2. For- 
 
 dyct's Mor. Philos. b. i. § 2—4. Pope's Ethic 
 
 Epist. ii. vcr. 93—201. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. 
 
 c. XX. Hutcheson's Treatise on the Passions. 
 
 Le Brun Of the Characters of the Passions. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Descartes divides the primary passions into six, 
 viz. Admiration, Love, Hatred, Desire, Joy, and 
 Sorrow ; and though this is by no means an accu- 
 rate distribution, yet his description of the passions 
 contains many excellent passages. 
 
 Descartes de Pass, part ii. § G9. p. 81. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 As pain is useful for preserving tlie animal body 
 from those injuries which might prove fatal to it, 
 so many of the passions, which are disagreeable in 
 their present operations, are useful and even neces- 
 sary, both to individuals and societies. 
 
 Watts on the Pass. p. 85 — 88. Butler's Serm. 
 No. viii. p. 1.00 — 154. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. 
 vii. § 4. Foster's Serm. vol. ii. p. 122—125, 
 and 128. 
 
 LECTURE XV. 
 
 PROPOSITION XIV. 
 To inquire into the original of our passions. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. They may either arise from the motion of the 
 body, impressions on the sense, or operations of the 
 mind by which ideas are produced ; as the sight 
 of beauty, hearing of music, or understanding a 
 proposition. 
 
 2. From ideas recollected by the memory which 
 may be accompanied with some degree of pleasure 
 or pain, which they at first gave. Prop. 8. gr. 7. 
 
 3. From the exercise of reason, which apprehends 
 a probability of approacliing good or evil. 
 
 Descartes de Pass. part. ii. ^ 51. Watts on the 
 Pass. § 3. p. 10—17. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The second and third source arise from the first ; 
 since there could have been no memory nor reason- 
 ing, without ideas presented to the mind as the 
 ground-work of its operations. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Some think the passions may be raised by means 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 233 
 
 of the body, when no parliculfir idea is presented to 
 any one of the senses ; that is, only from the tem- 
 perature of the body ; v. g. when we find ourselves 
 cheerful or sad, and cannot assign any reason for 
 it ; which, if it be admitted, may, in the judgment 
 of some, make it dubious whether the lirst idea in 
 the human mind be (as Mr. Locke maintains) an 
 idea of sensation : but it may perhaps be answered, 
 Wc have a sense of the temperature of the body ; 
 and that w e are seldom, in our waking hours, des- 
 titute of some sensible impressions, which are at 
 different times painful or pleasant, in different de- 
 grees, according as our organs are disposed. 
 
 Lochc's Ess. lib. ii. c. i. § 23, 24. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The passions cannot be immediately excited or 
 suppressed by our volitions, but consequentially 
 they may ; especially those arising from the third 
 spring, by which some arising from the two former 
 may be balanced. Descartes de Pass. § 46 — 17. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is queried, Why objects are often found to 
 affect the passions less when they are grown familiar 
 than they did before ? To this may be answered. 
 That admiration, in a great measure, proceeds from 
 the novelty of objects. Perhaps, in other in- 
 stances, it may be owing to some unknown con- 
 nexion between making the first impression on the 
 brain and the excitation of the passions ; yet it is 
 observable, that the degree in which wc are im- 
 pressed, is by no means proportionable to the 
 novelty of objects alone ; it depends much more 
 upon the temperature of the body, and a variety of 
 other particulars. 
 
 AXIOM VIH. 
 
 We find by experience, that our minds are so 
 constituted, that some degree of passion or desire is 
 necessary to action ; so that an entire suspension of 
 them would be attended with a stagnation of all 
 our faculties. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. vii. § 3. Descartes dc 
 Pass. § 40. Spectator, vol. iv. No. 265. 
 
 COROLLA RY. 
 
 It must be of the greatest importance, in order to 
 infiuence men to a due course of action, to know 
 how to awaken or moderate their passions by proper 
 application to them ; and those who act as if they 
 desired entirely to eradicate the passions, arc 
 ignorant of the constitution of human nature, and 
 can expect but little success in their attempts to 
 work upon tlie mind. 
 
 Doddridye's Dedication of Ten Serm. p. 10. 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Mr. Locke maintains that desire is always a state 
 of uneasiness ; but it is certain that, in many cases, 
 the uneasiness is abundantly overbalanced by a 
 probable prospect of the immediate enjoyment of 
 
 good ; and if some degree of uneasiness be univer- 
 sally necessary to action, it is very difficult, if not 
 impossible, to conceive how any active being can 
 be perfectly happy. 
 
 Loclie's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxi. § .32 — 34. Watts on 
 Libert 1/, p. 23—25. Grove's Posth. Worlts, 
 vol. iv. p. 136, 137. Watts's Essay on the 
 Freedom of Will in God and his Creatures, 
 octavo ; or his works, vol. vi. p. 382, 383. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 We cannot mistake in judging of present pleasure 
 or pain, as the incentives of desire or aversion ; but 
 in judging of future wc often do. 
 
 Loclie's Ess. ib. § 61 — 65. 
 
 LECTURE XVI. 
 
 DEFINITION XIX. 
 When a being is determined to the performance 
 of any action, not by a view of the beneficial conse- 
 quences that may attend it, but merely from a strong 
 impulse leading to the action itself, that being is 
 said to act by instinct. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There are many remarkable instincts in mankind, 
 which greatly tend both to the good of individuals 
 and the species. Those which are called Natural 
 Appetites, plainly come under this class ; to whicli 
 may be added parental affection, and some workings 
 of compassion and gratitude ; though it must be 
 granted the force of all these is very different In 
 different persons. 
 
 Baxter's Pract. Works, vol. i. p. 379. col. 2. 
 
 Andri/ apud Mem. of Literal, vol. i. p. 15. 
 
 HiUcheson's Inq. p. 143 — 147, 195 — 199. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Brutes are governed by instinct in many of their 
 actions, as was observed above, in Prop. 2. </>-. 6. 
 The reason upon which many of their actions de- 
 pend, could not be discovered without a penetration 
 far beyond what is to be found in the generality of 
 men. See particular instances of this in the bee (a), 
 in the ant (b), in the wasp (c), in the raven (d), in 
 the formica Ico (e), in the r/nlli sj/lvestres (f), in the 
 hohaques (rj), in the fox (//), in flic beaver (/), in the 
 Turkey-hen (/«), in the common hen (/), besides 
 many others (w). 
 
 {a) Rai/'s Wisdom of God, p. 1.32, 133 ; 2d edit, 
 p. 122—124. Nat. Disp. yo\. i. p. 168—178, 
 182—184, 194—202. 
 (b) Guardian, vol. ii. No. 1.06, 157. Plin. Nat. 
 
 Hist. xi. .30. 
 (r) Nat. Displ. part i. p. 126—148. 
 (d) Albert. Mni/nus, apud Crad. Harm, part ii. 
 
 p. 67, note in the margin, 
 {e) Nat. Displ. part i. p. 234—240. 
 
231 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 ( Dcrfuim's Phys. Tfieol. p. 229. 
 
 iff) Derham, ih. p. 212. (h) Derham, ib. p. 204. 
 
 (i) Nat. Diipl. paitii. p. 106—114. 
 
 (A) Nnt. Displ. ih. p. 23, 24. 
 
 (/) Spect. vol. ii. No. 120. 
 
 (/«) Cicero dc Nat. Dear. lib. ii. § 48 — 50. Cum- 
 braij SHI- {'Exist. § 23, p. 4(5, 47. Scott's 
 C/ii istian J. ifc, \ol. ii. p. 211— 220. Essiii/ 
 on Hutitiiiff, p. 53, 54. Pope's Ethic Epist. 
 in. vcr. 173—198.* 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 That instinct is not mere imitation, see proved by 
 a remarkable story in 
 
 aalcn, apud lloi/'s Wisd. of God, p. 349—353, 
 2d edit. p. 133—135. 
 It is probable that, in most instances, if not in 
 all, the actions to which any being is determined 
 by instinct, are accompanied with innnedlate 
 pleasure. 
 
 LECTURE XVII. 
 
 DEFINITION XX. 
 A Mental Habit is a facility of thinking or 
 M illing any action acquired by frequent acts. 
 
 PROPOSITION XV. 
 Mental habits do very much depend upon the 
 memory. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Memory, furnishing us with ideas and rela- 
 tions, makes it easy for us to think upon any sub- 
 ject. 
 
 2. Furnishing us with motives, it makes it easy 
 to will it. 
 
 3. When memory ceases, we see that mental 
 habits arc destroyed. 
 
 1, 2, and 3. 4. VaJct propnsitio. Drf. 20. 
 Clerici Pneum. sect. i. c. iv. § 18 — 22. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Mental habits must very much depend on tlie 
 body, since memory plainly does so. Prop. 8. Sol. 
 ijr. 4. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 The facility with which tlic body obeys tlic com- 
 mand of the mind, is a thing difi'erent from mental 
 habit ; yet it may have some affinity to it, as bodily 
 motion depends upon volition. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 No habits can in strict propriety of speech be 
 
 * Great liK;lit has bcfii llirown mion the properties and instiiirts of 
 animals by many recent autliors. See particularly Biiffun's Natural 
 History, Pennant's Arctic Zoology, and George F.ihvarilVs Works; to 
 whicli several other productions might he added. Many of the Voyages 
 and Travels that have lately been published are worthy of heini? par. 
 ticul:uly studied in this view, j'lic information given by C'a|>tain 
 Oiok, and the other circumnavigators of the globe, mii^t not be for., 
 gotten. 
 
 said fo be infused ; since it is impossible the first 
 act of any kind should be the ell'ect of habit, ac- 
 cording to the definition ; yet a disposition may bo 
 given to perform acts at first with as much readiness 
 as if tiicy had been learnt by long practice. Neither 
 can any habit be properly said to be hercditnrij ; 
 yet tliere may be, and it is plain in fact that there 
 are, certain hereditary dispositions towards con- 
 tracting habits of one kind rather than another. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 On these principles some account for the pheno- 
 menon which has frequently been observed, that a 
 great degree of wit and judgment seldom meet in 
 the same person ; because wit is a habit of finding 
 out the resemblance of ideas, and making an agree- 
 able assemblage of them ; whereas judgment is the 
 habit of distinguishing accurately between those 
 that have some resemblance, though tlicy really 
 difl'cr. It is not to be wondered at, if two such dif- 
 ferent habits do not ordinarily occur in the same 
 mind. Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged 
 highly probable, that habit is not the only thing 
 that makes tlie difference between various persons 
 in this respect, though it may serve very much to 
 increase it.f Sec Prop. 3. Schol. 1 . 
 
 Locke s Ess. lib. ii. e. xi. sect. 2. 
 
 SCHOLIWM 2. 
 
 Idiots reason very little, and make few proposi- 
 tions ; whereas the madman reasons very much, 
 and often justly, but upon very precarious and false 
 principles. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xi. sect. 12, 13. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The force of habit, both mental and corporeal, is 
 so great, tliat it is an evident part of wisdom to take 
 care how habits are formed ; and it is worth our 
 while to use great labour to turn and fix them on 
 the right side. 
 
 TiUotson's Serm. vol. i. No. 29. p. 301—304, 
 Dodsl. Pracept. vol. ii. p. 519—530. 
 
 DEFINITION XXI. 
 Those properties of any being are called Perfec- 
 tions, which directly tend to promote its happiness. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Only spirits are capable of perfection, since a 
 capacity for happiness implies perfection, i. e. 
 thought. I 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Nevertheless, in an inferior sense, or by analogy, 
 insensible beings may be called perfect, i. e. as 
 tlicy arc lilted to answer the purposes intended by 
 tliem. Watts's Ontol. c. viii. p. 353 — 355. 
 
 + For the dillVrcnt accounts which have been given of Wit, recourse 
 maybe had to the Spectator, vol. i. No. .M— 63; to Mr. David Fordyce's 
 Dialogues on Education; and to Lord Kaims's Elements of Critici.sro, 
 vol. ii. chap. xiii. p. 60—8-1. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 235 
 
 LECTURE XVIII. 
 
 DEFINITION XXII. 
 That mind is said to be possessed of natural 
 LIBERTY, or lil)erty of choice, which is so consti- 
 tuted as that its volitious shall not be invincibly 
 determined by any foreign cause or consideration 
 whatever offered to it, but by its own sovereign 
 pleasure. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 If any instance occurs in which the mind can 
 choose no otherwise than it does, it is not in that 
 instance naturally free ; though it chooses with the 
 greatest delight, and executes its volitions without 
 any restraint. 
 
 Watts OH Liberty, p. 8, 9. Collins on Liberty, 
 part ii. ed. 2. Limborch's Theology, lib. ii. c. 
 xxiii. sect. 20. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Natural liberty, as before defined, includes what 
 some have called a liberty of contrariety, as well 
 as of contradiction ; i. e. supposes the mind able to 
 choose the contrary, as well as to defer its choice, — 
 if indeed these two expressions do not signify in 
 fact the same thing, which in some connexions at 
 least they may. Hutcheson's Metaph. p. 22. 
 
 DEFINITION XXIII. 
 External Liberty, or liberty of action, is op- 
 posed to a constraint laid on the executive powers; 
 and con.sists in a power of rendering our volitions 
 effectual. 
 
 corollary. 
 
 There may be external where there is not natural 
 liberty, — and vice versa. Watts on Lib. p. 4, 5. 
 
 SCIIOLILM. 
 
 The liberty of which Mr. Locke generally treats, 
 is a liberty of action, not of choice ; and that Collins 
 expressly allows. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxi. §7 — 13, 21 — 30, 71. 
 Collins on Lib. p. 115 — 118. 
 
 DEFINITION XXIV. 
 Philosophical Liberty consi.stsin a prevailing 
 disposition to act according to the dictates of rea- 
 son ; i. e. in such a manner as shall, all things con- 
 sidered, most effectually promote our happiness. A 
 disposition to act contrary to this is mental servi- 
 tude : and when the mind is equally disposed to 
 follow reason, or act contrary to it, it is then said 
 to be in a state of indifference. 
 
 rUlols. Scrtn. vol. ii. p. 017, 018. Pers. Sat. 
 V. ver. 124—191. Clarke's Serm. vol. iii. 
 No. 1. p. 5—13. ed. 12mo. 
 
 corollary. 
 
 Philosophical liberty is a perfection of the mind, 
 
 (see Def. 21.) since much of our happiness depends 
 on our conduct ; and by acting according to reason, 
 much good may be obtained, and much evil avoided. 
 
 DEFINITION XXV. 
 A man is said to be morally free, when there is 
 no interposition of the will of a Superior Being, to 
 prohibit or determine his actions in any particular 
 under consideration. Watts on Liberty, p. 4. 
 
 corollary. 
 
 As the same man may be subject to the control of 
 various superiors, one of whom may allow what 
 another prohibits, he may, as to the same action, be 
 said to be or not to be morally free, according to the 
 persons whose will is in question. Nevertheless, 
 where there is one who has a much greater power 
 and authority over him than any of the rest, it is 
 proper to judge of his moral freedom by considering 
 the will of such a superior person. 
 
 DEFINITION XXVI. 
 Complete liberty consists in the union of natural, 
 external, moral, and philosophical liberty, without 
 any struggle or difficulty. 
 
 Watts on Lib. p. 9 — 12. Collibers Inq. p, 
 47—59. edit. 3. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Complete liberty, on the whole, is a perfection. 
 See Def. 24. Cor. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Complete liberty seems to consist in a certain 
 .symmetry or subordination of the faculties ; and, 
 when applied to such beings as ourselves, supposes 
 a serene understanding, moderate passions rising 
 in proportion to the nature of objects, the will 
 choosing to follow such regular impressions, and 
 the executive powers readily and vigorously per- 
 forming its dictates. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 When we speak of complete liberty, it is not so 
 proper to inquire whether the will be free, but 
 rather whether the man be so. (See Prop. 1. Scfiol. 
 1.) Yet natural liberty evidently belongs to the will. 
 Ladle's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxi. § 14 — 19. Watts's 
 Ess. No. xii. § 5. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 What some call a liberty of spontaneity, consists 
 merely in choosing \.o perform any particular action : 
 nor does it at ail enter into the question, whether 
 we can choose or perform the contrary ; but since 
 this is nothing more than willing, it docs not deserve 
 the name of liberty. 
 
 For the Cartesian notion of it, see 
 
 Descartes Princ. i. 5i 37—39. Walts on Lib. 
 p. G. 
 
236 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURE XIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION XVI. 
 The mind of in;in is possessed of natural libcily, 
 I. c. libcitj' of clioice. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. We arc conscious to ourselves, that we liave a 
 power of clioosiuj;- otherwise tlian we do, in a uiuUi- 
 tudc of instances. 
 
 2. Wc universally agree that some actions de- 
 serve praise and others blame ; and we sometimes 
 condemn ourselves as conscious of the latter ; for 
 which there could be no foundation at all, if wc 
 were invincibly determined in every volition, and 
 had it to say, wc had done tlie best we possibly 
 could. 
 
 3. The laws of all nations ap;rce to punish some 
 actions in a man who is master of his reason ; for 
 which they would not punish one whom tliey kiiew 
 lo be distracted. 
 
 4. When .equal objects are proposed to our 
 choice, we sometimes determine to choose one of 
 them rather than another, without being able to 
 assign any reason for such a preference. 
 
 1, 2, 3, 4. 5. Va/t t propositio. 
 
 Grove of Hum. Lib. § 13—16. Watts on Li- 
 berty, § 3. p. 28 — 39. Relif/ioii of Nature, 
 p. 63, 64. c4it. 4to. Clarke at Boyle's Lect. 
 p. 85—89. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 The will is not determined (as some have assert- 
 ed) by the last dictate, or rather assent, of the un- 
 derstanding, nor the greatest apparent good, nor a 
 prevailing uneasiness ; which last seems to coincide 
 with the former. 
 
 Watts on Lib. p. 17—23, 25—27. Locke's Ess. 
 lib. ii. c. xxi.,^ 35, 86. Clarke at Boyle's 
 Lect. p. 97 — 100. Clarke and Leibnitz, p. 
 403—415. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this it is objected, that we arc formed with a 
 necessary desire of happiness, and consequently 
 cannot choose any thing but what in present cir- 
 cumstances appears most conducive to it ; and ex- 
 perience is appealed to as confirming the assertion, 
 since we are always in fact most inclined to what 
 wc choose. 
 
 Answer. This must be acknowledged a consider- 
 able didiculty. 
 
 It is granted tliat what we choose must have some 
 appearance of good ; but the mind appears in fact, 
 as well as from the reasoning in the proposition, to 
 have a power of preferring a smaller present to a 
 greater absent and future good, though at the same 
 time it condemns itself of folly in stieh a choice; 
 wliicli it could never do if what it chose always ap- 
 peared to be the greatest good, since then in every 
 
 elioiee it would act according to the necessary im- 
 pulse and constitution of its nature ; and though 
 we allow that there is always a greater inclination 
 to what wc choose than what we refuse, yet till this 
 inclination be proved invincible, the proposition 
 may hold good. 
 
 Turretinr, vol. i. Loc. x. Qu. ii. § 7, 15, 16. 
 Collins on Lib. p. '40 — 44. Burnet on the 
 Art. p. 117, 118. Watts on Lib. p. 70—74. 
 Grove on Lib. § 18, 19. Grove's Mar. Philos. 
 vol. i. p. 205 — 214. Maclaurin's Newtonian 
 Philos. p. 81 — 84. Clarke and Leibnitz, 
 Append. No. 3. Cato's Letters, vol. iv. No. 3. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 To the argument from self-accusation Collins re- 
 plies. That it is only the sense of having acted 
 against some rules, winch on reflection we appre- 
 hend it would have been better for us to have fol- 
 lowed, though it did not appear so when we did the 
 action ; but how then could conscience condemn 
 us, not only in our after-reflections, but in the act 
 itself ? or how could we condemn ourselves for hav- 
 ing done foolishly in choosing what did appear to 
 us the greatest good, and could not but so ap- 
 pear? 
 
 Collins ib. p. 105, lOG. Grove's Posth. Works, 
 vol. iv. p. 93—148. pi-ers. § 3—7, and § 21. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is objected to the argument, (/r. 3. that punish- 
 ments are often inflicted where it is granted there is 
 no liberty at all,— as on lunatics, drunkards, and 
 brutes. 
 
 Ans. It may be debated how far it is proper to 
 call the severities used with them in some cases 
 punishments, or how far they may be destitute of 
 all natural liberty ; but as for Collins's argument, 
 That were man a free creature, rewards and punish- 
 ments would signify nothing, because it would lie 
 in his own breast to slight them, — it is most evi- 
 dently weak ; for nevertheless they would be a 
 probable means of answering their end ; and that 
 they are not always eircctual is evident in fact. 
 
 Collins ib. p. 86—88, 91—98. 
 
 LECTURE XX. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 To the fourth argument (which is generally called 
 choice, Iv aha^opKf) it is answered by the opposers 
 of natural liberty. That no such case can occur that 
 two objects should appear entirely equal : and if 
 there did, then a choice would be impossible ; for 
 that would imply an clTect without a cause, or a 
 balance turning when the weights are equal; but 
 (his is evidently taking the question for granted; 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 237 
 
 for it will not be allowed that wiUing is a necessary 
 effect, which must imply a compelling efficient 
 cause ; or the mind like a balance to be moved with 
 weights ; and as to the fact in question, a cause 
 which wc cannot assign is to us no cause, and yet 
 in many such cases we determine. 
 
 Collins ib. p. 44—52, 57—59. Watts on Lib. 
 
 p. 63 — 70. Clarke and Leibnitz, p. 38. § 1. 
 
 p. 93—95, 121—123, 169, 173—177, 291. 
 
 Append. No. iv. ix. p. 165. § 14, 15. p. 281 — 
 
 287. Cicero de Fato, § 24, 25. Jackson on 
 
 Liberty, p. 193—196. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is further pleaded that such a liberty would be 
 an imperfection to the human soul ; because it 
 would suppose in some instances to act without 
 reason. 
 
 Ans. Our scheme of liberty supposes a power of 
 choosing rationally in all instances ; of seeing and 
 preferring a greater good ; and choosing of tv/o 
 objects equally good, one, where there is reason for 
 taking one, though not for taking this rather than 
 that ; whereas to deny this is plainly to limit the 
 mind in its power of choice and capacity for happi- 
 ness in some instances ; — yet, I think (though we 
 allow that some particular pleasure may arise from 
 the consciousness of having used this natural liberty 
 aright, when it might have been abused) it must be 
 granted, that a power of choosing worse rather than 
 better is not necessary to the happiness of any 
 being : — but is mankind in such a perfect state, that 
 we are under a necessity of maintaining that it 
 could not have been greater or happier than it is ? 
 Collins ib. p. 62—83. Watts ib. p. 70—74. 
 j Coluber's Inquiry, p. 50, 51. Locke's Ess. 
 
 lib. ii. c. xxi. § 48 — 52. Clarke at Boyle's 
 
 Led. p. 119—121. 
 
 - SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 The sentiments of many considerable moderns 
 may be seen in Collins on Lib. p. 14 — 31 ; and those 
 of several ancients in 
 
 Collins ib. p. 59 — 62. Jackson on Lib. p. 82 — 
 91, 98 — 113, Lucas's Inquiry, vol. i. p. 
 163—185, 130—135. Hutch. Metaph. Syn. 
 c. iv. p. 22, 23, compared with p. 57. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 What Mr. Locke's notion of liberty on the whole 
 was, is much debated. The truth of the matter 
 seems to be, that he changes his idea of it ; some- 
 times meaning external liberty, of which he gene- 
 I rally speaks, (see Def. 23. Schol.) sometimes philo- 
 I sophical, (as in the place quoted above, lib. ii. c. xxi. 
 ' % 49.) and sometimes he seems to recur to the notion 
 of natural liberty again, especially when he says in 
 so many words, that freedom consists in not being 
 under a necessary determination of our will in any 
 particular action (§ 51) and in a power of suspen- 
 
 sion (§ 52) ; by which last manner of stating it, he 
 seems not to throw any light upon the question ; 
 since all the difficulty attending a possibility of 
 determining to act one way or another, will attend 
 a possibility of determining to act or not to act. 
 Locke's Fam. Epist. p. 474, &c. prasert. p. 480. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 Those who believe the being and perfections of 
 God, and a state of retribution, in which he will 
 reward and punish mankind according to the diver- 
 sity of their actions, will find it difficult to reconcile 
 the justice of punishment with the necessity of 
 crimes punished ; and they tliat believe all that 
 the Scripture says on the one hand of the eternity 
 of future punishments, and on the other of God's 
 compassion to sinners, and his solemn assurance 
 that he desires not their death, will find the diffi- 
 culty greatly increased ; but as many of the words 
 here used are not yet strictly defined, nor the evi- 
 dence of the propositions stated, it may suffice briefly 
 to have suggested the thought. 
 
 Cato's Letters, vol. iv. No. 110. Jackson's 
 Reply, passim. Hartley on Man, vol. i. p. 
 500—511.* 
 
 LECTURE XXI. 
 
 PROPOSITION XVII. 
 The philosophical liberty of the mind is much im- 
 paired, and we are obnoxious to a lamentable de- 
 gree of servitude. Def. 21. 
 
 DEMOXSTRATION". 
 
 1. The understanding is often so far influenced 
 by the passions, as to be unwilling to enter on rea- 
 sonings which may seem to lead to a conclusion 
 contrary to our interest. 
 
 2. The passions and prejudices of our minds in- 
 sensibly mingle themselves with the whole process 
 of reasoning when it is undertaken, leading into 
 many embarrassments and inconsistencies, ob- 
 scuring truth and gilding error; so that frequently 
 the judgment is formed upon a very unfair hearing, 
 agreeably to the bias the mind is under, and con- 
 
 * Since the prrcedinf? Lectures were written, the question coucern- 
 ing- Liberty anil Necessity has a<;.iin rcceiveil a nnost copious and acute 
 discussion. S::a Jonatlian Edwards's Inquiry into llic Freedom of llic 
 Will;— The Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity illustrated, hy Dr. 
 Priestley; — A free Discussion of the Doctrines of Materialism and 
 Pliilosophical Necessity, in a Correspondence between Dr. Price and 
 Dr. Priestley ; — Observations in Defence of the Liberty of Man, as a 
 Moral A};ent, by the Rev. .lobn Palmer; — Dr. Priestley'.s Letter to 
 Mr. Palmer, in Defence of his Illu.strations ; — Mr. Palmer's Appendix 
 to his Observations ;— Dr. Priestli-y's Second Letter to Mr. Palmer; — 
 Mr. .lacob Bryant's Address to Dr. Priestley, upon liis Doctrine of 
 Pliilnsophical Necessity illustrated ;— Dr. Priestley's Letter to Mr. 
 liryant ;— Dawes's Free Inquiry into the Merits of a Controversy 
 between Dr. Price and Dr. Priestley ;— The Doctrine of Philosophical 
 Necessity briefly invalidated ;— Reid's Essays on the Active Powers of 
 Man, p. 267— .368 ;— The Notes to tlie new edition of Hartley on Man ; — 
 Belsham's F.ssays, Pliilnsophical, Historical, and Literary, vol. i. p. 
 I — IS ;— Essays, Philosophical and Literary, by Dr. Gregory of Edin- 
 burgh ;— and Inquiry concerning' Political Justice, vol. i. p. 283—317. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 tiary to tlie cviilcnoc tliat might havc been oIj- 
 tained. 
 
 3. We often find it diflicult to excite our pas- 
 sions at the conunand of reason, and to fix them on 
 objects wliieh a|)pear to our understanding? most 
 wortliy of regard : on tlie contrary, they are often 
 excited by such objects as the understanding has 
 been by irresistible evidence compelled to disaj)- 
 prove ; and thcrel)y m c are led to connnit actions 
 which, while we do them, wc condemn ourselves for. 
 
 4. Bodily constitution and appetite have soiuc- 
 times almost a constraining power to hinder the 
 execution of the wisest volitions. Yet it must be 
 acknowledged, this impulse is not invincil)lc ; we 
 may stop ourselves in the career, and enter upon a 
 contrary course : so that, upon the whole, tlic way 
 to happiness is rather dillieult than impossible. 
 See Prop. 15. Sclwl. 3. and Prop. 16. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxi. § 47, 56 — 59. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It is plain from these phenomena, of whieli ex- 
 perience may convince us too surely, that the sym- 
 metry of the soul, and subordination of its faculties, 
 mentioned Def. 26. Cor. 2, in wiiich complete liber- 
 ty consists, is in a great measure violated in the 
 human soul ; but whetlier it were originally in the 
 same state, cannot he determined till we havc ex- 
 amined other previous propositions. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lilr. ii. c. xxi. § 53 — 55. Seed's 
 Serm. vol. ii. p. 339 — 344. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is greatly debated, how far tlie will has in our 
 present state any influence on the judgment, in as- 
 senting to any proposition in question. Some i-iain- 
 tain that it cannot have any influence at all ; hut I 
 think experience proves the contrary: and though 
 there must be some show of argument to determine 
 the judgment, yet it seems to be the consequence of 
 that natural liberty, asserted Prop. 16. that the mind 
 can divert itself from examining proofs which are 
 likely to establisli a disagreeable proposition ; and 
 by labouring to confirm and embellish arguments 
 on the favourite side of the question, can bring it- 
 self to assent to wliat it wishes to find true, though 
 vastly superior evidence on the contrary side were 
 fairly within its reach. Yet it must be acknowledged, 
 that this remark only takes place in propositions 
 which have some certain limited degree of evidence, 
 since there are some eases in which the truth will 
 invincibly force itself upon the understanding, and 
 no artifice can be sufficient to evade it. 
 
 Collins on Lib. p. 3.3—36. Clerici Pneiimat. 
 
 lib. i. c. iii, § 14, Watts on Lib. p. 13—16. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iv. e. xx. § 6, 12—16. Clarke 
 
 and Leibn. p. 403 — 415. 
 
 SCIIOLUM 2. 
 
 Many actions of brutes seem to discover some 
 
 degree of lil)crty ; but how far they arc possessed 
 of it seenjs impossible for us to determine, since all 
 the principal proofs of the natural liberty of the 
 human mind arise from what passes within our- 
 selves, and what we learn by discoursing with 
 other men ; and not merely from what we observe 
 in their most rational or capricious actions. 
 
 Rrynaiilt's Philos. Convcrs. vol. iii. p. 82 — 87. 
 
 LECTURE XXII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XVIU. 
 There arc many particulars in which the know- 
 ledge we have of our own minds is very imperfect, 
 and we are, as it were, a mystery to ourselves. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. We know not what our soul is, otherwise than 
 by its operations ; but arc not able to determine 
 what that constitution is whence those operations 
 proceed, or what particular and distinct idea is to be 
 affixed to the word principle ; if we may call it, as 
 many do, an intelligent or conscious principle. — 
 See Drf. 3. Cor. 2. Def. 5. Sckol. 1. Def. 9. 
 
 2. We know not how the soul is united to the 
 body, or what connexion there is hetween impres- 
 sions made upon the organs of sensation and the 
 ideas arising in our minds, or between the volitions 
 of our minds and the consequent motions of our 
 bodies. — Prop. 1. Sckol. 2. 
 
 3. We know not certainly how ideas are laid up 
 in the memory; it is not demonstrably evident that 
 there are traces in the brain correspondent to those 
 ideas ( Prop. 8.) ; but if it were, how recollection is 
 performed, and in many cases why one idea is re- 
 collected rather than another, is not possible for us 
 to say.— Pro;). 8. Schol. 3. 
 
 4. It still remains in some degree an uncertain 
 question, Whether we think always, or only by in- 
 tervals? — Prop. 12. Dem. 
 
 5. It is extremely difficult to remove all the ob- 
 jections against liberty of choice, especially against 
 that which is stated Prop. 16. Schol. 1. 
 
 6. The question wherein personal identity con- 
 sists, how plain soever it may have appeared to 
 some, has been differently determined by diflerent 
 persons of great learning and abilities ; and is, 
 after all, attended with some perplexities, perhaps 
 chiefly arising from what is mentioned above, yr. 1. 
 —Vid. Prop. 11. 
 
 7. The phenomenon of dreams docs also contain 
 some very unaccountable things. How ideas are 
 then suggested to the mind, in the reception of 
 which we are entirely passive ; how dialogues are 
 formed ; and how the moral principles of action 
 seem to be suspended, even while we continue to 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 239 
 
 reason (though often after a Wild and inconclusive 
 manner) upon circumstances and events in which 
 we imagine ourselves to be engaged. — Vid. Prop. 3. 
 ffr. 5. Baxter on the Soul, vol. ii. § 1. 8vo edit. 
 
 8. The phenomenon of phrenzy is likewise very 
 unaccountable, and how the state of the nerves and 
 juices of the body at that time should so strangely 
 affect our rational powers, and make us creatures 
 so vei-y different from ourselves. — Prop. 3. (/r. 6. 
 
 1 — S. 9. Valet propositio. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The like may in some degree be said of the im- 
 perfection of the knowledge wc have concerning 
 our own bodies : in which, though great improve- 
 ments and discoveries have been made, some very 
 important questions still remain undecided, v. g. 
 By what mechanism animal secretion, respiration, 
 and muscular motion are performed ? — whence the 
 systole and diastole of the heart arises ? — what is 
 the use of the spleen and the ccecum ? — not to men- 
 tion the rationale of many distempers, about which 
 many celebrated physicians are much divided, and 
 almost the whole doctrine of the nerves. 
 
 SCHOLU M 2. 
 
 The phenomena mentioned in the proposition 
 and the preceding scholium, serve to illustrate 
 Prop. 10. and add a veiy important article to it. 
 
 COROLLAllY 1. 
 
 It becomes us to maintain a deep and constant 
 sense of the ignorance and weakness of our own 
 minds, when we always carry about, in the very con- 
 stitution of them and our bodies, such affecting 
 demonstrations of it. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Since such a modest sense of our weakness and 
 ignorance will have a great tendency to promote the 
 honour and happiness of our lives, by teaching us 
 to avoid many instances of arrogance and self-con- 
 ceit, which expose men both to enmity and con- 
 tempt ; therefore Pneumatology, which leads us into 
 this humbling view, is a noble and useful study. — 
 (Compare Prop. 3. Cor. Prop. 10 and 17.)* 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 If we should hereafter prove the existence of any 
 being vastly superior to us, and especially of a 
 being possessed of infinite perfections, it must be 
 expected that there will be many things relating to 
 him, which it is not possible for us fully to explain 
 or comprehend ; and our inquiries concerning such 
 a being ought to be pursued with great modesty 
 and humility. 
 
 Butler's Serm. p. 303 — 303. Spectator, vol. 
 
 viii. No. 690. Jonval's Letter, apud Nat. 
 
 Displ. vol. i. part 2. p. 293, &c. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 OF THE BEING OF A GOD, AND HIS NATURAL PERFECTIONS. 
 
 LECTURE XXIII. 
 
 AXIOM LX. 
 
 It is impossible that any thing should of itself arise 
 into being, or that it should be produced without 
 some producing cause, existing in or^lcr of time, as 
 well as of nature, prior to the thing so produced ; 
 or, in other words, which must not be considered 
 before the effect, in order to understand it thorough- 
 ly, but must also be supposed to have existed be- 
 fore it. 
 
 DEFINITION XXVU. 
 That is said to be a self-f.xistent, or necessa- 
 rily EXISTENT, Being, which does not owe its 
 existence to any other being whatsoever, either as 
 its cause or its support, but would exist, or be what 
 
 it is, were there no other being in the whole compass 
 of Nature but itself. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 17, 18. Burnet, ih. 
 vol. i. p. 7, 8. 
 
 SCHOLIl M. 
 
 It seems safer, in this momentous argument on 
 which we are now entering, to acquiesce in this 
 general and simple idea of self-existence, gradually 
 deducing from thence other ideas connected witii 
 
 * Though it is the only design of tlic editor to point out new re- 
 ferences and authors, lie cannot forbear reconimcndins tlie sentiments 
 of these two corollaries to the attention of academical pupils. AVIicii 
 it is considered how extremely difficult many questions in themselves 
 are, and what dilferent conclusions have Km n drawn concerning them, 
 by men of the pnifuundest knowled;,'e and the deepest reflection, there 
 is a modest scepticism which it will become young students to pre. 
 serve, till time shall have given Ihem the oppoi'nnity of wider iu- 
 fjuiry and larger ohsirvalion. This remark would not have been made, 
 if instances had not occurred, of youth who have eagerly, and even 
 arrn;;antlv, adoplcd liyjiollieses, on one siile or the other, without 
 sufficiently exercising that patience of thinking, and that slow progress 
 of examination, which are likely to he the most favourable to the 
 j, acquisition of truth. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 it, tlian (o slate it, as Dr. Clarke has done, " That 
 Mliich cannot so much as be imagined not to exist, 
 or that which has necessity for the cause of its 
 existence ;" since, if there be anj' self-existent 
 being at all, it seems not proper to ascribe its exist- 
 ence to any cause whatsoever. 
 
 Laic's Inq. p. 147 — 150. Ahernethy's Serm. vol. 
 i. p. li>l— 19;}, Dub!, edit. p. 203—205, Land. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 If any self-existent being does now exist, it has 
 existed from all eternity ; for if it ever began to 
 exist, it must (by the 9th Axiom) have owed its 
 existence to some prior being as its cause, — wliich 
 is plainly contradictory to the notion of self-exist- 
 ence stated above. • 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 If there be, or ever has been, any self-existent 
 being, it is also everlastiny, i. e. it will never cease 
 to be ; for dissolution must arise from something 
 external or internal ; but nothing external can dis- 
 solve that which depends upon no other being for 
 its support ; and no imaginable reason can be as- 
 signed why there should be any internal cause of 
 dissolution in that being whicli has (by Cor. 1.) ex- 
 isted from eternity, or which was indeed in any 
 single past moment self-existent and independent ; 
 which is so plain, that, whoever may have denied 
 the existence of a self-existent being, none have 
 ever asserted that there was such a being, and that 
 his existence is now extinguished and lost ; or that 
 there is some sclf-existcnt being,' which, though 
 now subsisting, will at length be destroyed, or dis- 
 solved of itself ; yet it must be owned tliat a late 
 writer, who seems determined to carry scepticism to 
 the greatest excess, has presumed to call this matter 
 into question. Humes Philos. Essays, p. 253. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 If there be any self-existent being, it is also im- 
 mutable ; for since a being is the same with all its 
 properties taken together, {Def. 3. Cor. 1.) if any 
 property were taken away from it, a part of the 
 being would perish, which is inconsistent with its 
 being necessary {Cor. 2.) ; or if any properties were 
 added, the being itself would not be eternal, and 
 therefore not necessarily existent. Cor. 1. 
 
 Crouz. Log. vol. i. p. 426. Ahem. vol. i. p. 
 196—200, Dub. edit. p. 209—213, Lond. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 There is no medium between a self-existent and 
 derived being ; or, in other words, whatever exists 
 at all is either self-existent or derived. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 The existence of every derived being may at 
 length be traced up, either mediately or immedi- 
 ately, to what is self-existent ; which, in order to 
 its producing it, must, according to the Axiom, 
 have existed before it. Cor. 4. Axiom 9. 
 
 COROLLARY 6. 
 
 From the Corollary above it will follow, that 
 whatever is eternal is self-existent. 
 
 COROLLARY 7. 
 
 To maintain a series or succession of derived 
 beings from eternity, is most absurd ; for every 
 series supposes some tirst ; and to suppose that first 
 to be derived, is self-contradictory, (as above. Cor. 
 5.) with this further absurdity, that the greater thie 
 series, the greater support it vi'ill need, as a chain 
 consisting of many links will need a greater support 
 than one consisting but of a few such links ; and 
 should a circle of causes be supposed, instead of 
 solving, it will, if possible, increase the absurdity ; 
 since this would suppose every cause in the circle 
 to have produced itself, and all the other causes too. 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 11 — 14. Woolast. 
 Rcl. of Nat. p. 65 — 68. 
 
 DEFINITION XXVIII. 
 That is said to be simply infinite in its kind which 
 has no bounds, or than which nothing in its kind 
 can be conceived greater; but if it be conceived 
 as bounded in some respects, and unbounded in 
 others, then it is said to be only infinite secundum 
 quid, as a line infinitely produced one way from a 
 given 'point : but this is a very improper sense of 
 the word. 
 
 Lnclie's Ess. lib. ii. c. xvii. § 1 — 3. Watts's 
 Ontoloyy, c. xvii. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Whatever is self-existent has all its properties 
 infinite (see Def. 27.) ; for if it be necessary in any 
 time or place, (if it be its nature to exist in time 
 and place,) it must be necessary at all times and in 
 all places ; and since, whatever its other properties 
 are, to set bounds to them is to assert its non-exist- 
 ence beyond those bounds, whether of power, wis- 
 dom, &c. it seems extremely probable, not to say 
 certain, that what hinders its existence beyond 
 those bounds might hinder its existence entirely ; 
 but it could not be a self-existent being, if its ex- 
 istence might have been hindered, or could be de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 Clarhe, p. 458, 459, 462, 463, 465, 466, 469—476. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 On much the same principles, Mr. Grove directly 
 infers. That a being necessarily existent must be 
 infinitely perfect. Some perfections it must have, 
 or it could not be any thing at all ; and for the 
 same reason that it has any one perfection, and in 
 any one degree, it must be possessed of all possi- 
 ble perfections, and in all possible degrees ; but 
 this is a point of so great importance, that we 
 choose rather to infer it from other mediums of 
 argument, than to rest the whole stress of it upon 
 such a deduction, especially as upon the princi- 
 ples of Def. 21. Cor. this argument can have no 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 241 
 
 place till it be proved that whatever is self-existent 
 is percipient, or endued with thought. 
 
 Grove's Posth. Works, vol. iv. p. 7. Howe's 
 Living Temple, part i. c. iv. § 2, 3. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is disputed whether our idea of infinite be a 
 negative or positive idea. Some have pleaded, That 
 bounds imply a negation of continued existence be- 
 yond them ; and consequently by removing this 
 negation we form a positive idea. 
 
 Camhraij sur I'Exist. p. 379 — 383. Boyse's 
 Translation, p. 146 — 151. Locke's Ess. 1. ii. 
 c. xvii. ^ 13, 16—19. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It may also be queried. Whether our idea of in- 
 finite be a simple or compound idea ? — Yet I think it 
 may more properly be said to be a simple idea, as 
 no addition of finites can make up an infinite. It 
 -will be difficult to find out any idea more simple. 
 
 PROPOSITION XIX. 
 Something has existed from eternity. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Ax. 1. 1. It is evident that something does 
 actually exist; v. g. we know that wc ourselves do. 
 
 2. If something has not existed from eternity, the 
 things which now are must have risen absolutely 
 from nothing, and without any producing cause, 
 contrary to Ax. 9. 
 
 1,2. 3. We are certain something has existed 
 from eternity. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 8,9. Ahem. Serm. 
 vol. i. p. 184—187, Dubl. edit.; p. 195—198, 
 Lond. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It must be acknowledged extremely difficult to 
 conceive of any thing having existed from eternity; 
 yet since there are such evident proofs of it, we, 
 learn that a thing may be true, the manner of which 
 is entirely inconceivable to our limited minds, or 
 against which some objections may lie which to us 
 are unanswerable. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 9 — 11. 
 PROPOSITION XX. 
 There has from eternity existed some self-existent 
 or necessary Being. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION 
 
 Prop. 19. 1. There has from eternity exi.sted 
 .something, cither .self-existent or derived. See 
 Def. 27. Cor. 4. 
 
 Def. 27. 2. If there were not so evident an ab- 
 surdity as there seems to be, in supposing .a de- 
 rived being eternal, yet its existence (even granting 
 its eternity, and much more evidently supposing it 
 not to be so) may be traced up to a self-existent 
 Being, which as self-existent is eternal. 
 
 1, 2. 3. Valet propositio. 
 
 R 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The proposition follows directly from Def. 27. 
 Cor. 6. but we choose to keep it in its present form ; 
 that if any should think there may be an eternal 
 necessary emanation from a self-existent principle, 
 as many have maintained, the foregoing proposition 
 might rest on a foundation not to be affected by 
 such an apprehension. 
 
 Introd. to the Ancient Univ. Hist. p. 5. 8vo edit. 
 
 LECTURE XXIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXI. 
 
 The system of things, which we call the material 
 world, did not exist from eternity in its present 
 form ; but had a beginning. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Arg, 1. We may not only conceive of many pos- 
 sible alterations which might be made in the form 
 of it, but we see it incessantly changing ; whereas 
 an eternal Being, for as much as it is self-existent, 
 is always the same. Def. 27. Cor. 8. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 22, 23. 
 
 Arg. 2. We have no credible history of transac- 
 tions more remote than six thousand years from the 
 present time ; for, as to the pretence that some 
 nations have made to histories of greater antiquity, 
 as the Egyptians, Chaldeans, Phoenicians, Chinese. 
 &c. they arc evidently convicted of falsehood at 
 large in 
 
 Stillingfieet' s Orig. Sacr. p. 15 — 106. Millar's 
 Propag. of Christ, vol. i. p. 100—112. Pear- 
 son on the Creed, p. 68 — 60. Jenkins of 
 Christianity, vol. ii. pref. p. 4 — 11. Allix's 
 Reflections, vol. i. p. 95 — 120. Winder's 
 Hist, of Knowledge, vol. ii. passim. Lucret. 
 lib. V. ver. 325—330.* 
 Arg. 3. We can trace the invention of the most 
 useful arts and sciences ; which had probably been 
 carried further, and invented sooner, had the world 
 been eternal. 
 
 Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. vii. viii. Lucret. lib. v. 
 ver. 331—339. Nichols's Conf. vol. i. p. 76 — 
 87. 12mo ; p. 45 — 51 , 8vo. Chtyne's Princ. 
 c. ii. h 24. p. 63—68. Burnet's Theory, vol. 
 i. p. 54—59. 
 
 Arg. 4. The origin of the most considerable 
 nations of the earth may be traced ; i. e. the time 
 when they first inhabited the countries where they 
 now dwell : and it appears that most of the western 
 nations came from the east. 
 
 * The Hindoos make great |>retension.i to a very high antiquity ; 
 niul crfdit has been {^iven tu tlieir as.sertion.s : but the extr.ivafi;Rnce oT 
 llieir chronology has been shown by the best of all judges, Sir William 
 .tones, ,is may be seen in his Dis.sertation on the subject, published in 
 the second volume of the A«iatic Researches. 
 
\ COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Newton's Chi on. jxisnini. Pat rid; on G'finesi.i, 
 C. X. Wells's (wioff. of the Old Test. vol. i. 
 c. iii. Pearson on the Creed, p. fiO, 01. 
 Pn-rzon. Cumberl. de ori(j. Gent, rt Bocheirt's 
 Phitlct}. ptissim, Bryant's 3Ji/tholor/ii, pns- 
 sitn. Michaelis's Spicilif/ium Geoff. Heb. pass. 
 
 SCHOLU'M. 
 
 If it be said that doliises, pestilences, eonflafvia- 
 (ions, &c. destroy men with their inventions, it may 
 he answered, (1.) If the world were eternal, there 
 must have been an immense number of these de- 
 vastations ; and it is amazinp; (if there be, as this 
 hypothesis supposes, no superior lJcin<j that pre- 
 sides over them) that they should not huvc destroyed 
 the whole human race. (2.) If any had survived, 
 (he most useful arts would have been preserved. 
 Lucret. lib. v. ver. 339 — 352. Pearson on the 
 Creed, p. 61 , margin. Religion of Nature, p. 
 91, 92. 
 
 LECTURE XXV. 
 
 Arff. 5. The projectile force of tlie planets is 
 continually diminishinof, by the resistance of the 
 fluid through which they pass, ?. e. the rays of light ; 
 which are every where diffused through all parts of 
 their orbits in so vast a quantity, that multitudes of 
 them fall on bodies too small to be discerned by the 
 naked eye, as appears by microscopical observation. 
 Now, if we allow this diminution in the projectile 
 force in one year or age to be ever so small, there 
 must be a finite time in which it will be utterly 
 destroyed ; and consequently, had the present sys- 
 tem of things been eternal (since on this suppo- 
 sition the same laws of Nature must have prevailed) 
 the planets would long ago have fallen into the sun. 
 Watts's Ess. No. x. § 1. p. 243. — 245. Cheyne's 
 Princ. e. ii. § 20. p. 53—56. 
 
 Arg. G. The sun is continually losing some of 
 its light ; and consequently must, long ere this 
 time, have been reduced to utter darkness, if tlie 
 world had been eternal. If it be said, That every 
 ray of light, after a certain elongation, falls back 
 into tlie sun, — we answer. Some of them must, in 
 their return, strike on the planets, falling on their 
 dark hemisphere, by which means they would be 
 absorbed, and the decay would be real, though 
 more gradual, according to the reasoning above. 
 If it be answered. That there may be some kind of 
 fuel provided, as suppose comets, by which the sun 
 is fed, — we reply. That fuel is or is not exactly ad- 
 justed to the expense of his flame ; if it is not ex- 
 actly adjusted, if too little, the consequence urged 
 above will at length, though still more slowly, fol- 
 low ; if too much, the sun growing continually hot- 
 
 ter, the Earth and other planets must have been 
 burnt up, and so an argument against its eternity 
 will arise in anotlicr form, from the ever-growing 
 heat of the sun ; but if the adjustment be exact, it 
 will be such a proof of design and government in 
 the works of Nature, as would be so greatly ser- 
 viceable in another view, that any friend of religion 
 might willingly spare this argument against the 
 world's eternity, when tlicre are so many others 
 unanswerably strong ; and it may be observed, that 
 a similar train of reasoning may take place as to 
 some following particulars. 
 
 Cheyne's Princ. e. i. § 42. p. 95—98 ; c. ii. § 19. 
 p. 51, 52. 
 
 Ary. 7. Since it is probable that the fixed stars 
 and the sun attract each other, — had they been eter- 
 nal, they must long ere this have met in the centre 
 of gravity common to the whole universe ; and 
 nearly akin to this is the argument which may be 
 drawn from the effect of the nearest access of the 
 Earth to Mars, or any other superior planet ; in con- 
 sequence of which it might be supposed to be drawn 
 by such attraction a little from its orbit; the eccen- 
 tricity of which would by this means be continually 
 increased, till the Earth were utterly destroyed. 
 The like argument may be applied to the other 
 planets, and especially to Saturn ; but the thought 
 is in general so much the same that it has not been 
 judged necessary to insist upon it. 
 
 Cheyne's Princ. c. i. ^22, p. 58—60. 
 
 A ry. 8. Sir Williarn Petty has attempted to prove 
 that the number of mankind doubles in .360 years ; 
 but though the exactness of his computation should 
 be doubted, if there be any periodical and constant 
 increase at all, it will prove the world not to be 
 eternal ; as from a limited distance of time it must 
 ere now have been overrun with human inhabitants. 
 Some have indeed maintained a decrease since the 
 Augustan Age ; — but if it could be proved that 
 mankind do actually decrease periodically, or that 
 the increase is exactly balanced, this argument will 
 stand on the same footing with Ary. 6. As for 
 plagues, by which some suppose the balance to be 
 made, if we may judge by what we know of their 
 history, the diminution of mankind by them bears 
 but a very small proportion to its increase, as com- 
 puted by Petty.* 
 
 Nich. Conf. vol. i. p. 62—76 ; 8vo edit. p. 36— 
 
 44. Chei/ne's Princ. c. ii. § 25. p. 68—72. 
 
 Pers. Lett. vol. ii. p. 148 — 158. Reflec. on 
 
 Pohjy. Diss. vii. 
 
 Ary. 9. Many substances are continually petrify- 
 ing and ossifying ; so that, had the world been 
 eternal, the whole earth would have been but one 
 
 * As fo tlie (|iicstinn concerning tlie Decrease of Mankind since the 
 Augustan Age, see the subject ingeniously discussed in Hnnic's Essay 
 on tlie Populousncss of Ancient Nations , and Wallace's Dissertation 
 on the Numbers of Mankind. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 243 
 
 stone, or the petrifaction must have ceased of itself ; 
 but if it be said, That these stones dissolve, and so 
 there may be a kind of circulation, — it is answered, 
 That stones grow in one year, which do not dissolve 
 in many centuries. 
 
 The argument from the waste of fluids by the 
 growth of animal and vegetable bodies, is mucli the 
 same as this, so far as there is any solidity in it ; but 
 it maybe queried, Whether the dissolution of those 
 bodies, and separation of their consistent fluids in 
 a series of years, may not answer this ? 
 
 Nic/t. Conf. vol. i. p. 51 — 55 ; 8vo, p, 30—32. 
 Clare on Fluids, p. 271, 272. 
 
 Arg. 10. Hills are continually subsiding, which 
 will in some finite time reduce the world to a level. 
 If it be objected, That this is balanced by earth- 
 quakes, &c. which raise mountains, — it is answered. 
 The number of these so raised is comparatively 
 small, and they being hollow, would soon be washed 
 away. 
 
 Nieh. Conf. vol. i. p. 55—62 ; 8vo, p. 32—36. 
 
 Ray's Three Disc. No. iii. p. 3 11 364. 
 
 Mount/. Trav. p. 377, 378. Burn. Theory, 
 
 vol. i. p. 51 — 33. 
 Arg.W. According to the best calculations which 
 have been made, comets appear on an average at 
 least in 30 years ; but whether this account be exact 
 or not, if their return be periodical, there would, 
 within an imaginable time, have been more than a 
 thousand millions cutting the earth's orbit in vari- 
 ous directions ; in consequence of which the earth 
 must have been exposed to such danger, either of 
 being drawn into the sun or separated from it, that, 
 without a particular Providence, which this hypo- 
 thesis opposes, its destruction must have happened 
 long since. 
 
 Art/. 12. If the world be eternal, it is hard to 
 account for the tradition of its beginning, which 
 has almost every where prevailed, though u;ider 
 different forms, among both polite and barbarous 
 nations. 
 
 Hale's OrLg. of Man, % 2. c. xii.- § 3. c. i. 
 Grot, tie Ver. lib. i. § 16. p. 26—40. Bur- 
 net's Arch. lib. ii. c. i. 'p. 27.3 — 285. 
 
 LECTURE XXVT. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There must have been some great and excellent 
 Being, superior to this whole material system, by 
 which it was reduced into that beautiful order, in 
 .which it now appears. 
 
 COUOLLAKY 2. 
 
 • Hence we may infer the vanity and falsehood of 
 Spinoza's doctrine, who asserts that the whole and 
 R 2 
 
 eve-ry pail of the material world is a self-existent 
 being ; for he expressly says, that one being or 
 substance could not be produced by another ; and 
 that all things could be in no other order and man- 
 ner than they are, ». e. that all things in their present 
 form are necessary, and therefore eternal. Def. 27. 
 and Cor. 1, 3. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 26 — 29. Camh. sur 
 I'Exist. p. 202 — 207. part ii. c. 2. Tolantl's 
 Pantheisticon, p 5 — 8, 54, 55. aputl. Sykes's 
 Connect, c. iv. p. 64 — 83. Orph. Carm. ap. 
 Apul. Op. ( tie Muntlo ) p. 109. Ramsay's 
 App. to Phil. Princ. vol. i. p. 497, &c. 
 Campbell's N^ccss. of Rev. p. 368. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Those arguments which Redi, Malphigius, and 
 several modern philosophers, have advanced against 
 the doctrine of equivocal generation, either of ani- 
 mals or plants, have often been urged as conclusive 
 against the eternity of the world : and if they will 
 prove that every animal or plant of the present 
 generation was not only contained in its immediate 
 parent, but together with that parent in the remoter 
 generation, and so on perpetually, it might indeed 
 prove that, how small soever the bodies now grown 
 up might be at any given time, there is a certain 
 distance of generation, at which the organized body 
 containing them and all intermediate generations, 
 each bigger than the embryo in question was at that 
 time, must have been bigger than even the whole 
 mass of the earth. But it may be answered, That 
 allowing no animal or plant to rise info visible form 
 but from pre-existing parents of the same kind, it 
 may nevertheless in its first stamina be formed 
 anew, from some fluid before making an unorganized 
 part of the adult parent ; and in that case there will 
 be no peculiar force in this argument, as lying 
 against the eternity of the world ; for that which 
 arises from the exquisite workmanship of an animal 
 body, and the absurdity of supposing it produced 
 from any fluid or solid merely by mechanical laws, 
 properly belongs to another question. 
 
 Retli tie Gen. Insect, pass. Niemuent. Rel. 
 Phil. vol. i. c. xvi. § 9. Bentley at Boyle's 
 Lect. Serm. iv. p. 127, nrf fne. Cheyne's 
 Princ. c. ii. § 23. p. 60—63. Rtiy's Wisd. of 
 Gofl, p. 298— .326. Varen Geotj. vol. i. p. 
 226. Engl. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Neither do we argue from the probability that 
 the Torrid Zone would have taken fire ; which is 
 examined in Ray's Three Disc. p. .381 — 388. 
 
 SCHOLH'M 3. 
 
 Wc likewise wave those arguments which are 
 taken from the supposed absurdity and impossi- 
 bility of the world's having been actually eternal, 
 or having existed through an infinite succession. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 l)ccause the same ()l)icolion sccins to lie a>^ain.sl 
 every lliiit;; Mhich is said lo be eternal, and tlie 
 ar«;un)ent turns on the supposition, that an infinite 
 is made up of a number of finitcs. 
 
 Ihirm t on the Art. p. 19, 20. Clarke at Boyle's 
 Let t. p. 35—37. 
 
 SCHOIJl'M 4. 
 
 Some of the ancients, who speak of the eternity 
 of tlie world, do not seem to intend it in the sense 
 in which Spinoza asserts it. The arfjfumcnts arc 
 designed to prove, either that something must be 
 eternal, which is all that those of Ocellus Lucanus 
 amoujit to ; or that the world is a necessary eternal 
 cfl'cet, flowing from the energy of the divine nature, 
 which Aristotle seems to have thought ; or that it 
 was an eternal voluntary emanation from a supreme 
 and infinitely perfect Cause, which was the opinion 
 of Plato's followers. Nevertheless, there is reason 
 to believe that some of them were properly Pan- 
 theists, in the same sense in which the term may be 
 applied to llie present followers of Spinoza. Com- 
 pare Cor. 2. 
 
 Clarke at Boi/le'.'i Lect. p. 29 — 33. Nichols's 
 Conf. vol. i. p. 22—36 ; 8vo. vol. i. p. 12—20.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 If any objection should be brought against the 
 seventh argument, from the supposed infinite num- 
 ber of celestial bodies, which would occasion an 
 equal attraction every way, we must defer the 
 examination of that till we have proved that matter 
 is not infinite ; to which we shall quickly proceed. 
 
 LECTURE XXVII. 
 
 DEFINITION XXIX. 
 That is said to be an essential quality which 
 cannot cease, unless the being itself should be sup- 
 posed to be destroyed. Watts's Log. p. 17, 18. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXII. 
 Motion is not essential to matter. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 
 1 . It is evident that when we have abstracted the 
 idea of motion from any particle of matter, there 
 will still remain the idea of extended solid substance, 
 /. e. it will still be matter. See Def. 4 and 29. 
 
 2. If motion be essential to matter, then motion 
 must either be an equal tendency every way, or a 
 prevailing tendency one way. 
 
 3. An equal tendency every way would certainly 
 produce rest. 
 
 4. A prevailing tendency one way rather than 
 
 * A concise and elegant view of tlic different opinions of the ancient 
 philo.<io|>liers on this siiliject, may be read ni Dr. Enlield s History of 
 Ptiilosopliy. 
 
 another, must arise from some external cause ; and 
 if these motions were various, from causes that act 
 in various manners, and not from the necessary na- 
 ture of body or matter itself. 
 
 1 and 2, 3, 4. 5. Motion is not essential to mat- 
 ter. Q. E. D. 
 
 Toland's Lett, to Sercn. No. 5. p. 186—202. 
 Clarke at Jioi/le's Lect. p. 24, 25. 
 DEMONSTRATION II. 
 Another proof may be drawn from the vis inertiee, 
 which Baxter has proved to be essential to matter, 
 and which is directly contrary to necessary motion. 
 Tiiis argument is stated at large in Baxter on tke 
 Soul, and as it cannot conveniently be contracted 
 here, we choose to refer to the author himself. 
 
 Baxter on the Soul, vol. i. p. 1 — 78. 
 corollary. 
 
 Since it appears that matter does move, (still 
 supposing the reality of the material world,) it is 
 evident there must be some first mover, i. e. some 
 superior immaterial being, from whom its motion is 
 derived. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The argument which Toland brings, in the pas- 
 sage cited above, to prove motion essential to 
 matter, amounts to little more than the universal 
 gravitation observed to prevail in it ; but this may 
 be sufticiently accounted for, by supposing it always 
 impressed upon it by the Creator, and that it might, 
 at his pleasure, be suspended, tliough no single 
 particle of the whole material world should be now 
 exempted from the influence. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXIII. 
 
 Matter is not self-existent or necessary. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Dff. 4. 1. Tangibility, solidity, or resistance, is 
 essential to matter. 
 
 1. 2. If all space were full of matter, how fine 
 soever the particles were, there must be on every 
 side an invincible resistance to the motion of any 
 one of those particles. 
 
 3. But we plainly see that there is motion in tlie 
 corporeal world. 
 
 2, 3. 4. There is, therefore, a vacuum ; as will 
 be further illustrated in tlie scholium. 
 
 Def. 28. Cor. 5. But if matter weie self-existent 
 or necessary, there must be a universal plenum. 
 
 6. Matter is liable to continual clianges in its 
 place, contexture, situation, &tc. which is incon- 
 sistent with its being self-existent. Dif. 27. Cor. 3. 
 
 4, 5, and 6. 7. Matter is not self-cxistent. Q. E. D. 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 503, 504, 25, 26. 
 
 Coluber's Inq. p. 2.58—261. edit. 3. Bent, 
 at Boyle's Lect. § 6. p. 211—213. Howe's 
 Liv. Temp. part. ii. c. 2. § 5. Baxt. an the 
 Soul, vol. ii. § 3. pr<Fs. p. 34.5—351, 356— 
 359, 373—383. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 245 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 There must be some immaterial self-existent 
 Being, by whom matter was at first created, 'sup- 
 posing it now really to exist. — See Prop. 22. Cor. 
 Def. 27. Cor. 5. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 A vacuum may further be proved from the dif- 
 ferent specific gravity of bodies, compared with the 
 vibrations of pendulums of unequal bulk and equal 
 length in equal times : -v. g. one of ten pounds 
 vibrates just as fast as another of one pound whose 
 rod is of the same length ; it has, therefore, just ten 
 times the momentum or force of motion, e. ten 
 times the gravity ; for here it is gravity that gives 
 it the force ; or, in other words, the gravity is as 
 the quantity of matter : when, therefore, the gravity 
 under the same bulk is unequal, it proves there is 
 more matter in one mass than in the other, and con- 
 sequently pores (at least) in the lighter, though the 
 heavier were to be supposed entirely solid ; and the 
 experiment of the feather and guinea descending 
 together in the exhausted receiver, establishes the 
 argument on the same principles. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 503, 504. 
 
 LECTURE XXVIII. 
 
 AXIOM X. 
 
 If any being be the producing cause of another 
 being, not merely occasionally, but by its own 
 power, it is very reasonable to suppose tliat it was 
 more excellent or perfect than its production, or at 
 least equally so. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Seeing a thinking substance as such is more ex- 
 cellent than a substance destitute of thought, it is 
 not to be imagined that spirit should be produced 
 by a being which is not possessed of thought. 
 PROPOSITION XXIV. 
 
 It is in the nature of things utterly inconceivable 
 and incredible, that thought should necessarily 
 arise from matter. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION". 
 
 1. If thought could proceed from matter, it must 
 either arise from the genera! nature of it, or must 
 be peculiar to matter in some certain configuration 
 and agitation. 
 
 2. Thought cannot arise from the nature of mat- 
 ter in general ; for then every particle of matter 
 would have thought, which is evidently false and 
 ridiculous to affirm. 
 
 .3. Any suppqsed alteration in the figure of the 
 particles of matter, v. ij. from squares to cubes, or 
 cones, &c. has no apparent influence on the pro- 
 duction of thought. 
 
 4. Motion in general, added to matter, cannot 
 produce thought ; for then almost all matter known 
 to us, being actually, though not necessarily, in mo- 
 tion, and some of it in a wonderful swift agitation, 
 must be cogitative, contrary to fact. 
 
 5. The change of its motion, v. g. from a straight 
 line to any kind of curve, or vice versa, or its col- 
 lision against other particles of matter, seems to 
 have no tendency to produce thought. 
 
 1 — 5. 6. Valet propositio. 
 
 Abern. Serm. vol. i. p. 107 — 117. Benlley at 
 Boyle's Leet. Serm. ii. p. 15—26 ; 8vo edit, 
 p. 52— <j9. Clarke, ib. p. 52—57. Locke's 
 Ess. 1. iv. c. X. § 10. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Since we are sure there is such a thing as 
 thought, (^.r. 2.) this is anothVr argument inde- 
 pendent on Prop. 23. Cor. to prove that there is 
 some immaterial being. See Ax. 9. 
 
 Bentley ib. p. 29 — 36 ; 8vo edit. p. 66—74. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is to no purpose to object, That there may be 
 some unknown connexion between certain modifi- 
 cations of matter and thought, from which thought 
 may necessarily result, or that it may be produced 
 from some unknown properties of matter, though 
 not from those which are known ; seeing many 
 things are utterly incredible, which cannot be 
 proved to be absolutely impossible. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 If it be further objected. That it is as inconceiv- 
 able that matter should arise from thought, as 
 thought from matter, — it may be answered, That we 
 are sure in fact, that, if there be any material world, 
 matter is moved by thought, though we know not 
 how it is done, and that it was actually produced 
 by some immaterial being (Prop. 2.3. Cor.) ; but it 
 cannot be proved in fact that tliought is necessarily 
 produced by matter, or that any thinking being has 
 been mechanically produced from matter itself; 
 though we allow that, according to the constitution 
 of some superior being, thouglit is occasioned by it, 
 I. e. that there is a certain wonderful harmony be- 
 tween impressions made on the material parts of 
 our frame and thought ; and that thinking beings 
 are produced by a superior cause on certain con- 
 currences in the material world.* 
 
 Shaftsb. Char. vol. ii. p. 296. Baxt. on the 
 Soul, vol. ii. p. 350, note. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It may not be improper here to collect the proof 
 wc have had of the existence of an immaterial 
 being, which arises partly from the motion of mat- 
 
 * It is scarcely necessary to say how niucli tlic doctrine of tliia 
 twenty-fourth Proposition is ilenicd hy several recent philosophers, 
 of great eminenre and ingenuity. Hee particularly Priestley's Dis- 
 quisitions ON Matter and Spirit, and T. Cooper's Kssays. On llic other 
 side of the question, is Mr. W. Bclsliain, in the second volume of his 
 Essays, p. 1—30. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 tor. Prop. 22. Cor. and its existence. Prop. 23. 
 Cor. and also froni the exLstencc of tliouglit, wliicli 
 mere matter could not produce, Prop. 24. Cor. 
 compared witli A.r. 10. Cor. 
 
 PKOPOSITION XXV. 
 We are not ourselves necessary or self-existent 
 beings. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1 . It is evident wc are lately born into this world ; 
 and there is no proof of our existence before. 
 
 2. We evidently appear to be dependent on every 
 thin<; about us. 
 
 3. The capacity and sentiments of our minds, as 
 well as the powers of our bodies and our external 
 circumstances, are almost continually changinjf. 
 
 Dtf. 27. Cor. 1,3. 4. But every .self-existent 
 being is eternal, independent, and immutable. 
 1, 2, 3, 4. 5. We arc not self-existent. Q. E. D. 
 
 Camh.sur VExist. p. 185 — 188. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There is some self-existent Being, from whom 
 we mediately or immediately derive our existence, 
 and to whom ultimately wc owe all the faculties of 
 our nature, and all the enjoyments of our lives. — 
 Def. 27. Cor. 5. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 There is great reason to believe that this Being is 
 naturally much more excellent than we. 
 
 COROLLAKY 3. 
 
 It is evident that, as we are already under great 
 obligations to this Being, so we have a constant de- 
 pendence upon him for every future period and 
 circumstance of our existence. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 It must be of the greatest importance for us most 
 attentively to inquire after him, and to study his 
 nature and properties, that we may, if possible, se- 
 cure an interest in his favour. 
 
 Camb. sur V Exist, p. 188, 189. 
 PROPOSITION XXVI. 
 That self-existcnt Being, from whom our ex- 
 istence was ultimately derived, ( Prop. 25. Cor. \ .J is 
 a Spirit. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Originally and primarily to produce a being is 
 an action. 
 
 Grad. 1. Off. 10. Cor. 2. 2. That must be a 
 Spirit, where)>y any being whatsoever is originally 
 and primarily produced. 
 
 Prop. 25. Cor. 1. 3. Our spirits were produced 
 by some self-existent IJeing. 
 
 Ax. 10. Cor. 4. To suppose a thinking being 
 produced by an unthinking cause, would be more 
 evidently absurd than to suppose an unthinking 
 being so produced. 
 
 2, .'3, 4. 5. That self-existent Being, from whom 
 
 our existence was ultimately derived, is a Spirit. — 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 49 — 52. Ahernethy, 
 vol. i. Serm. iv. 
 
 SCIIOLU'M. 
 
 Though it seems more proper to stale the evi- 
 dence of this important proposition thus largely, it 
 is in effect contained in Prop. 25. Cor. 2. since 
 nothing that is not a spirit can be more excellent 
 than our minds. 
 
 LECTURE XXIX. 
 
 DEFINITION XXX. 
 That self-existent spiritual Being, by whom we 
 and the material world about us were originally 
 formed, we call GOD. 
 
 Vanini AmpMthcatrum Provident ice, p. 8 — 10. 
 apud Collih. Inq. p. 243, 244. Shaft. Char. 
 vol. ii. p. 10, 11. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It appears from this definition that our idea of 
 God is very complex, and is made up of many ideas 
 arising both from sensation and reflection. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. xxiii. § 33 — 36. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXVII. 
 
 There is a God. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 
 Prop. 23. Cor. 1. The matter of which this world 
 or system consists, was originally created by a self- 
 existent immaterial Being. 
 
 Prop. 22. Cor. 2. This matter w^as first put into 
 motion by some superior, /. e. self-existent, Being. 
 See Dcf. 27. Cor. 5. 
 
 Prop. 21. Cor. 1. 3. This material world was re- 
 duced into the beautiful fonn wherein it now ap- 
 pears, by some Being superior to it. 
 
 4. There is no reason to assert, nor has it ever, 
 that we know of, been maintained by any, tliat the 
 Being by whom the matter of our world was at first 
 produced, was a different one from that by whom it 
 was first moved and brought into the order in which 
 it now appears.* 
 
 Prop. 25. Cor. 1 and 2. 5. Our spirits were also 
 derived from some self-existent Spirit of superior 
 excellence and perfection. 
 
 6. There is no apparent reason to believe that tlie 
 Spirit by whom our spirits were originally pro- 
 duced, is a being different from that by whom this 
 material world about us was created and formed. 
 
 1 — 6. 7. There is some self-existent Spiritual 
 
 * It may be observed here, that the Ciiiosties maintained the nemi- 
 ourcjos, or Maker of tiiis world, to be difli'rent from tlie Siiiircme Bcin^ ; 
 but tlicn they licld matter itself to be eternal, and evil per ae. See 
 Moshcim's Commcntarii de Rebus Chiistianoriim in Seculo primo, } 
 6i ; andliis Institutiones Majores Seculi primi, ParsSeciinda,} 5, C. S. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 247 
 
 Bein'T, by wliom we and this material world were 
 formed ; i. e. there is a God— Def. 30. Q. E. D. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iv. c. x. § 1 — 0.** 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 God is a Being more excellent than the material 
 world, or than we, or than anj' other spirit, which 
 may hereafter appear to be derived from him. See 
 Ax. 10. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 There is something so great and excellent in self- 
 existence, joined with a degree of other perfections, 
 superior to those which we can discover in any de- 
 rived being whatsoever, that it seems most safe and 
 reasonable, in all our further inquiries into the na- 
 ture of God, to ascribe to him what appears to us 
 most noble and excellent, and to separate from our 
 ideas of him whatever is defective or contemptible ; 
 I. e. in other words, to conceive of him as a Being 
 of infinite perfection ; but of this more fully here- 
 after. See Def. 28. Cor. and Schol. 1. 
 
 Howe's Liv. Temp. part. i. c. iv. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION 11. 
 The being of a God proved from universal con- 
 sent. 
 
 1. Almost all men, of every place and age, have 
 acknowledged a God, — learned or unlearned, polite 
 or barbarous, pious or wicked, fearful or courage- 
 ous ; and nations that have differed most in their 
 genius and customs, have generally agreed in this 
 important point. 
 
 2. This opinion must arise from prejudice or from 
 right reason. 
 
 1. 3. It is exceedingly difficult, or rather impos- 
 sible, to find any prejudice common to all who have 
 embraced this opinion. Fear could not affect the 
 courageous, nor the invention of politic princes, 
 princes themselves, or barbarous nations ; blind 
 credulity would not affect the most philosophic in- 
 quirers, nor religious hopes men of impious charac- 
 ters ; and as for the authority of one person affimi- 
 ing it, how could the notion have been so univer- 
 sally propagated, or merely on this authority so 
 universally believed ? If education infused it through 
 succeeding generations, why has it been so much 
 more uniform than any thing else which is supposed 
 to be so transmitted ? 
 
 4. It does not appear that particular prejudices 
 can be a.ssigned to suit the case of all particular 
 persons. 
 
 3. 4. 5. This opinion does not appear to arise 
 from prejudice. 
 
 2, 5. fi. It seems founded on right reason ; i. e. 
 there is a God. Q. E. D. 
 
 Wilhins on Nat. Rel. p. 41 — 49. p. 62 — 61. 
 
 ♦ For otlirr proofs of tlie being of a God, recourse may 1)0 liad to 
 Sooirc's Irreliirion Indefunsiblc ; — Priestley's Institutes, liis Lelters to 
 Philo$o|)liical Unbelieve rs, part the first ;— and Bryant's Treatise on the 
 Autlienticity of the Scriptures, part the first. 
 
 Tillots. Works, vol. i. p. 14 — 17. Locke's 
 Ess. lib. i. c. iv. § 8, 9. Loubiere's Siam, 
 part 3. c. xxii. xxiii. p. 130 — 132. Burn, 
 on the Art. p. 17, 18. Gastrel of Nat. Relig. 
 p. 2&— 38. Ridylefs Divin. TOl. i. p. 12—14. 
 3IiUar's Pro}), of Christ, vol. ii. p. 161. f 
 
 SCHOLIl'M. 
 
 The different notions that men have maintained 
 of the Deity, and the opinion of many concerning 
 a plurality of gods, is urged as an objection against 
 the argument stated above ; but it may be answered. 
 That their difference in other things makes their 
 agreement in this great principle so much the more 
 remarkable ; and it is certain there is not such an 
 agreement in any false notion of the Deity, or 
 plurality of gods, as there is in his existence in 
 general ; to which we may add, that the wrong 
 notions particular persons have entertained con- 
 cerning him, may often be accounted for by the 
 variety of their genius, condition, education, &c. 
 Wilhins on Nat. Rel. p. 43 — 45. Burn, on the 
 Art. p. 18, 19. Tillots. Works, v. i. p. 15, 16. 
 
 LECTURE XXX. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION III. 
 In which the being of a God is proved .from a 
 brief survey of the Works of Nature. 
 
 LEMMA. 
 
 This system of things, which we call the visibjc 
 world, is full of beauty, harmony, and order. 
 DEMONSTRATION OF THE LEMMA. 
 
 1. This appears by a survey of the heavenly 
 bodies ; in which we may distinctly <;ansider their 
 magnitude, number, due situation, that they may 
 not interfere with one another, and may lay a foun- 
 dation for certain astronomical discoveries, which 
 would otherwi.se have been impossible, had there 
 been a perfect similarity in situation and size. 
 Especially in our system, we may remark the sun, 
 that glorious fountain of light and vital influence, 
 \>y wliicli most of tlie other beauties of the creation 
 around us are discovered, and the various planets 
 witii which he is surrounded ; in which we may 
 more particularly observe the correspondence be- 
 tween their distance from the central body about 
 which they revolve, and the times in which their 
 revolutions arc performed, /. c. that the squares of 
 their periodical times are as the cubes of their dis- 
 tances ; the supply of moons to most of tlie di.stant 
 planets, with the addition of a ring to Saturn ; the 
 agreement both of primary and secondary planets 
 in a spherical figure ; as well as the agreeable 
 
 + How far the universal consent of the ticing of God is a fact, may 
 now |)articiilarly be traced from the mimbcr nf late Voyages and 
 Travels to all parts of the world, and to men in all the forms of society. 
 
218 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 \ aiioty (li!»t is observable in their size, and other 
 plienonuMia relatin;; to them. 
 
 Derham's Astr. T/irolot/i/, pass. Nieuwent. Rrl. 
 
 Phil. vol. iii. Itai/ofCieat. p. 72—78. ^nt. 
 
 Disp. vol. iv. Baxt. Matlio. Abcrn. vol. 
 
 i. Serm. i. 
 
 2. The proposition appears from a view of the 
 <;lol)e of the earth, in which, not to urge the gravita- 
 tion of bodies on or near its surface towards its 
 centre, which is common to our whole system at 
 least, if not to the whole material world, and is tlie 
 great cement of it, we may more distinctly consider 
 its diurnal and annual motion ; the atmosphere 
 witli which it is surrounded ; its constituent parts, 
 as it is a terraqueous j;lobe, and composed of bodies 
 of very dillcrent kinds, lodged upon or beneath its 
 surface. 
 
 Bentley at Boyle s Led. p. 310—314. Nieuw. 
 Kel.' Phil. vol. ii. cont. 17. p. 367-— il3. 
 Derham's Phi/s. Theol. p. 4 — 18. Keil's 
 Astron. Lect. xxi. sub init. 298, 299. 
 
 3. The vegetable productions with which the 
 Earth is furnished, so various, beautiful, and useful. 
 
 Nat. Disp. vol. i. Dial. 14, 15. part 2. p. 158— 
 248. Rays Wi.ul. of God, p. 110—132. Der- 
 ham's Phys. Throl. p. 404—424. Denne's 
 Serm. on Veget. 
 
 4. The animal inhabitants of it ; in which we can 
 never sulliciently admire the organs of sensation, 
 especially the eye and ear, the organs of respira- 
 tion, of motion, those for receiving and digesting 
 the aliment, and those intended for generation and 
 the nourishment of the fcetus. In the inferior ani- 
 mals, it is wonderful to observe how tlieir different 
 organs are fitted for those different circumstances 
 in life for which they are intended, and especially 
 to the elements in which they are chiefly to live. 
 To this head may be referred what was before said 
 of their various instincts, Def. 18. Cor. 2. to which 
 we may further add the limitation of their instincts, 
 as well as animal sensations, within such degrees 
 as the convenience of the animal requires.- — Vid. 
 Ess. on Man, part 1. But above all, in human 
 creatures we may justly admire the faculties of the 
 mind, as well as the structure of the body, — both 
 which have been largely considered elsewhere. 
 
 Monro's Compar. Anat. pass. Derham's Phys. 
 Theol. pass. 
 
 5. On the whole, it may be observed, that fhe 
 more philosophy is improved and inquiries pur- 
 sued, the more is (he harmony and regularity of the 
 w orks of nature illustrated, and the more evidently 
 does it appear, that objections formerly made against 
 them were owing to the ignorance of those that 
 advanced them. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. .55, 58, 103 — 106. 
 ISat. Disp. vol. i. p. 13 — 16. 
 
 6. As these things are wonderful when considered 
 apart, so when the whole is considered as a system, 
 and in reference to man, for whose use this Earth 
 and what it contains seems principally to have been 
 designed, many comparative beauties arise, which 
 in a separate view, could not have been discovered. 
 
 Shaft. Char. vol. ii. p. 285—290. 
 
 S( HOLll'M 1. 
 
 These arguments are set in so strong and beauti- 
 ful a light in the works of Ray, Derham, Nieu- 
 wentyt, Bonet, Baxter in his Matho, and in De la 
 Pluehe's Nature Displayed, especially in the first 
 and fourth volumes, that they deserve a most atten- 
 tive perusal at leisure.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 As to those objections which are brought from the 
 noxious qualities of some vegetables, animals, or 
 exhalations, from the limitation of our senses, from 
 the helpless circumstances in which human infants 
 are born, as well as from our being subject to dis- 
 eases and death ; besides those arising from the 
 asperities of the surface of our globe, and the in- 
 clination of the axis of the earth to the plane of the 
 ecliptic, — they are most of them so evidently weak, 
 and capable of being retorted as beauties rather 
 than defects ; and they are all so well considered 
 and confuted in the following references, that we 
 shall not more distinctly examine them here. 
 
 Lucret. lib. v. ver. 196 — 235. Blachm. on the 
 Creat. p. 78 — 92. Bentley at Boyle's Lect. 
 Serm. iii. p. 10—17. 8vo edit. 5. p. 94—104. 
 Lhid. Serm. viii. p. 22—40, 8vo edit. p. 83— 
 90. Shaft. Char. vol. ii. p. 298—309. Ray 
 on the Creat. p. 249 — 255. Keil's Exam, of 
 Burn. Theory, pass. Pope's Ess. on Man, 
 epistle i. ver. 165 — 198. Williins's World in 
 the Moon. Collib. Inq. p. 92—94. Poliyn. 
 Anti-Lucret. pass. Clarke on the Oriyin of 
 Evil, p. 160. ad fin. pras. p. 160—202, 233 
 — 264. Reimarus on Nat. Relig. pass. 
 
 SCHOLll'M 3. 
 
 The noble powers and properties of the human 
 mind are well worthy of being mentioned here, as 
 a production incomparably more glorious than 
 any thing in the vegetable or brutal creation. It 
 may something assist our thoughts here, to consider 
 how the face of nature is embellished and improved 
 by the arts which mankind have introduced into 
 life, and how much entertainment is given mankind 
 by producing them as the effect of their ov. n art and 
 labour, beyond what they could find in them merely 
 as the product of nature. 
 
 Derham's Phys. Theol. p. 220, and 61—65. 
 Locke on Government. Abcrnethy's Sermons 
 on the Being and Attributes of God. 
 
 * The many curious volumes wliich liave recently been published in 
 the different parts of Natural History may be read in this view, though 
 they are not, in general, applied by the authors of thera to the purposes 
 of religion. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 249 
 
 LECTURE XXXI. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXVII.— DEMONSTRATION III. 
 
 Proof of the being of a God from the Works of 
 Nature. 
 
 Prop. 21. 1. Seeing the world was made, it is 
 universally allowed that it must have been pro- 
 duced by chance or design. 
 
 2. Chance is entirely an unmeaning expression, 
 unless we ascribe that to it which is produced by 
 mechanical laws, without the contrivance and pur- 
 pose of the thinking being, whose agency may be 
 the means of producing it. 
 
 Watts's Ontol. p. .332. Bentley at Boyle's Led. 
 Serm. v. p. 9—12; 8vo edit. p. 147 — 153; 5th 
 edit. p. 170—174. 
 
 2. 3. It niaj' generally be expected, that what- 
 ever is thus produced should be very confused and 
 imperfect, especially when the effect is very com- 
 plex. 
 
 Lem. 4. This world, though a very complex 
 system, is full of beauty, harmony, and order, in- 
 comparably superior to any work which we see pro- 
 duced by the design of the most curious artist. 
 
 3, 4. 5. It is most incredible that it should be 
 produced by chance. 
 
 1,5. 6. It was produced by the design or counsel 
 of some intelligent agent. 
 
 Prop. 20. Cor. 7. If any derived being were 
 supposed the immediate former of the world, he 
 must ultimately owe his wisdom and power to some 
 original and .self-existent being. 
 
 6, 7. 8. The frame of the world proves that there 
 is a God. Q. E. D. 
 
 Lucret. lib. v. ver. 417 — 449. Camh. mr 
 l'E.vist. p. 4 — 6. § 5 — 8. Bfiit. if>. Scrm. v. 
 p. 12 ; and fine 8vo edit. p. l.>3 — 177. Howe's 
 Works, vol. i. p. 29—34. Collib. Inq. p. 74 
 —84. R< l. of Nat. p. 79—85 ; 8vo edit. vol. 
 i. p. 72—92. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION IV. 
 A Deify proved from the marks of divine inter- 
 position, which appear in the support and govern- 
 ment of the world. 
 
 . LEMMA. 
 
 I The author of Matho has illustrated this topic of 
 demonstration with incomparable strength and 
 beauty ; but some of his arguments are of such a 
 nature as to be more properly mentioned in another 
 place. 
 
 ] 1. This appears in the continuance of the cen- 
 ( tripetal and projectile force of the planets, as a 
 mutual balance to each other ; neither of which ap- 
 pears necessary in itself, though a.failurc of cither 
 would be attended with a general ruin ; and this 
 thought appears with a force greatly increased, 
 
 when we consider the various composition of that 
 four-fold motion, by which a secondary planet re- 
 volves about its primary, while both revolve about 
 the Sun. 
 
 Baxt. Matho, vol. ii. Conf. vii. p. 4—18. Coll. 
 Inq. p. 119, 120 ; edit. 3. p. 143, 144. Baxt. 
 on the Soul, § 2. No. G. p. 46, 47, 4to ; vol. i. 
 8vo edit. p. 101—106. 
 
 2. In preventing the alteration of the obliquity of 
 the earth's axis, or its receiving any other detriment 
 from the approach of comets, or any other cause ; 
 and likewise in preventing the inclination of the 
 Moon's orbit from becoming greater, or the Moon it- 
 self from being brought nearer to, or carried further 
 from, the Earth ; anj' of which alterations would be 
 attended with fatal consequences, especially the 
 two last of them, which might be most easily af- 
 fected by a comet's approach. 
 
 Matho, vol. ii. § 118, 119. p. 143, &c. § 110. p. 
 91, &c. Collih. ih. p. 144. 
 
 3. In regulating the winds, so as may be for the 
 preservation and benefit of the Earth ; though we 
 are not able to assign any certain laws by which it 
 is eflected. 
 
 Clarke's Rohault, part i. c. xii. § 41. Note. 
 Collib. Inq. p. 144. 
 
 4. In the due proportion which is observed be- 
 tween males and females in the several species of 
 animals, and especially in mankind. 
 
 Nieuwent. ib. vol. i. p. 351 — 363. Derh. Phys. 
 Theol. p. 175, 176. Note. 
 
 5. In preserving the balance of the several species 
 of animals, so that none should overrun the earth, 
 and none be lost. 
 
 Collib. ib. p. 123 ; edit. 3. p. 147. Derham's 
 Phys. Theol. p. 168—179. Nat. Disp. vol. i. 
 part i. p. 44 — 46. 
 
 6. In keeping the species of animals and vege- 
 tables the same through succeeding ages, and pre- 
 venting their being corrupted by undue mixtures. 
 
 Collib. ib. p. 122, 123 ; edit. 3. p. 148, 149. 
 
 7. In keeping the faces, voices, and handwriting 
 so wonderfully distinct as they appear to be. 
 
 Weems's Works, vol. iv. part ii. p. 12, 13. 
 Derh. ib. p. 308 — 310. Ray's IViscl. p. 283— 
 286. 
 
 8. The regularity and steadiness with which the 
 world is governed by the same laws in the most 
 <listant ages, is a further noble argument of the 
 divine interposition ; and is perhaps in noliiing 
 more conspicuous than in this, that the instincts of 
 animals are slill the same. Shaft, vol. ii. p. 337. 
 
 9. If in any instance these laws have been inter- 
 rupted, and eirecls have been produced beyond the 
 common course of nature; as these instances do 
 not appear to have been so frequent as to overthrow 
 
250 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 tlie arsjiimoiit, /;»•. K. so fliey aflbrd a fiirllier arsvii- 
 iiu'iit of a IJc'iii!? superior (o this system of lliiii';s, 
 and prove tliat lie attends to tlic allairs of his crea- 
 tures. 
 
 Limb. TheoL lib. i. c. ii. § 17, 19, 25. CnUius 
 de Deo, p. 23, in his Works, vol. iv. 
 
 1 — 9. 10. It appears tliat the world is under the 
 government of some lieing of ^reat power, and ex- 
 quisite contrivance, art, and conduct ; who is him- 
 self either necessarily existent, or derived from some 
 other who is so. 
 
 LECTURE XXXII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXVIII. 
 To give a view of those other arguments in proof 
 of a Deity, w hicli seem not of ecjual force with tlie 
 former, and yet are urged by persons of considerable 
 note. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Carlesius argues that there must be a God, 
 because necessary existence is contained in the 
 idea of a God, as three angles are in the idea of a 
 triangle ; so that though essence and existence are 
 ill other things distinct, yet when considered with 
 regard to the Deity, they arc the same. 
 
 To this it is answered. That there is a difi'crcnce 
 between the notional truth of propositions, and the 
 real truth of ideas. In plainer terms, the fallacy 
 lies in the ambiguity of those words, God is a ne- 
 cessary existent Bcin;/ : If the meaning of them be, 
 q. d. " By the word GOD, I understand a Being 
 that is supposed to be self-existent," they will be 
 allowed ; but tlicn they prove not his real exist- 
 ence : but if they signify, " It is most certain there 
 is such a Being," the sense is changed, and the 
 proposition may still be disputed. 
 
 Cartes. Princ. lib. i. § 14—16. Camh. E.rist. 
 
 p. 197—199., Voyage to the World of Cart. 
 
 p. 159—164. Collib. Inq. p. 130—132 ; edit. 
 
 2. p. 156—159. 
 
 2. Cartesius further argues, "The greater the 
 objective perfection of any idea is, the more perfect 
 must its cau.se be ; but we have the idea of a Being 
 infinitely perfect, therefore there must be some in- 
 finitely perfect Being to cause and produce it." 
 
 But this seems .still to take for granted tlic thing 
 to be proved, (. c. the objective reality of the idea, 
 or the reality of the object supposed to be repre- 
 sented by it ; and it may be pleaded, that w ithout 
 any such archetype at all, an idea of an infinitely 
 perfect Being might be produced by the operation 
 of our minds upon ideas arising from inferior ob- 
 jects, seeing we do not comprehend infinity, but 
 
 only deny the bounds of an object which we sup- 
 pose infinite. 
 
 Cartes, ih. % 17, 18, 22. Camh. ih. p. 189—191. 
 
 Voyar/c to tlic World of Cart. p. 166—100. 
 
 Coilili. Inq. p. 132, 133. edit ; 3. p. 159, 160. 
 
 Clarke at lioytes Leet. p. 20—22. p. 19—21 ; 
 
 6th edit. Locke's Ess. lib. iv. c. x. 7. 
 
 3. Epicurus, and many others, particularly Lord 
 Shaftesbury, have argued, that the idea of God is 
 universal as being innate, and therefore that his 
 existence is certain. Epicurus therefore supposes 
 it natural to admit it ; and those who believe man 
 to be God's work, argue from his having stamped 
 this character of himself upon all his human crea- 
 tures ; but the foundation of this argument has been 
 removed in Prop. 8. yr. 5. and the references. 
 
 Coll. Inq. p. 128—130. edit. 3. 164—156. 
 Shaftesh. Letter to a Clergyman. 
 
 4. Tillotson argues to this effect : " The idea'of 
 a God is possible, seeing it involves no contradic- 
 tion to suppose a Being of all possible perfections, 
 therefore it is necessary ; for if there be no God 
 now, there never can be a God, seeing eternity is a 
 part of our idea of him ; so that on this supposition 
 the existence of a God is impossible, contrary to 
 the hypothesis." But this argument, which seems 
 nearly equal to the first in a plainer dress, may be 
 sufficiently answered by the known distinction be- 
 tween an hypothetical and an actual possibility ; 
 V. g. It may be said to be hypothetically possible 
 that the first man should have been created with 
 wings ; but since he was in fact created without 
 wings, it is not actually possible ; and this seems 
 to be an instance parallel to the other. 
 
 Tillots. Works, vol. i. p. 19. Collib. Inq. p. 133, 
 134 ; edit. 3. 161, 162. 
 
 DEFINITION XXXT. 
 Those arguments wliieh arc brouglit from the ex- 
 istence of some of the attributes of God to prove 
 the existence of a God, are called proofs a priori: 
 those taken from the phenomena observable in the 
 works of nature, are called proofs a posteriori. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The question. Whether there be any proof of the 
 being of a God a priori ? depends upon the reality 
 of space and duration, and their being the proper- 
 ties of some substance ; which will be examined 
 hereafter. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The proof of the attributes of a God a priori, is 
 the arguing tiiem from self-existence, showing thein 
 to have a necessary connexion with it : and in this . 
 sense some have denied there can be any proof a 
 priori ; because nothing can be prior to a self- 
 existent Being, and because all our proofs of the 
 attributes of such a Being arc ultimately drawn 
 from the consideration of some Being derived from 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 251 
 
 him ; but this objection is evidently founded on a 
 mistake of the sense in which these words are used 
 by the most accurate writers. 
 
 SCHOLITM 8. 
 
 On the whole, it may be proper to distinguish 
 the various ways of proving the being and attributes 
 of God thus : — 
 
 1 . Both are proved u priori, when from the real 
 existence of space and duration we infer the exist- 
 ence of a self-existent Being, whose properties they 
 are, and from necessity of existence prove his wis- 
 dom, power, goodness, &c.* 
 
 2. Both are proved a posteriori, when we argue 
 from a survey of the system of nature, that there 
 must be a wise, powerful, and benevolent Author. 
 
 3. The proof is mixed, when from the observed 
 existence of any one derived being, whether mate- 
 rial or immaterial, more or less perfect, we argue 
 the existence of a self-existent Being, and thus 
 infer his attributes from a necessary connexion 
 with self-existence, as in the first case. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lett. p. 494 — 498, and p. 501, 
 502. Waterland's Diss, on the Art/, a priori, 
 apud Law's Inq. ad fin. prtrs. 51 — 54, 56 — CO. 
 
 LECTURE XXXIII. 
 
 PJtOPOSITION XXIX. 
 To take a survey of the chief sects of Atheists 
 amongst the ancient Grecian Philosophers. 
 
 S0M!TION. 
 
 Sect. 1. They all agreed in asserting that there 
 was nothing but matter in the universe ; but differ 
 as to the question, whether it was animate or in- 
 animate. 
 
 Sect. 2. Those who held matter to be animated, 
 were in general called vXoZoikoi ; who (as they 
 darkly expressed it) maintained that matter had 
 some natural perception, but no animal sensation, 
 or reflection, in itself considered ; but that this 
 imperfect life occasioned that organization from 
 whence sensation and reflection afterwards arose. 
 
 Sect. .3. Of these, some held only one life, which 
 they called a plastic nature ; and these were called 
 the Stoical Atheists, because the Stoics held such 
 a nature, though they supposed it the in.strunicnt of 
 the Deity : others thouglit that every particle of 
 matter was endued with life, and tliese were called 
 
 * Amidst the various attfmpts f.> prove tlic liein? of a God n priori 
 one of the most cunous, an.l whid, M eu.s to apj.roi,, h the near.'st to a 
 dcmon»tration, is a short tract, writt.n by the Itev. Moses I.owniai. of 
 l.lapham. I l,e piece is now beeonie very scaree, and inilei d is almost 
 lorKotlen. Ue mention it, that, in case it slioi.l.l be met will, i„ any 
 catalogue or sale of books, its value may be known. A Mr Kni-ht a 
 Dissentiiis Minist.-r at flicrtsey, in Surrey, wrot<: a hook on tli.^same 
 subicct, a little more than forty years aso. See also the second edition 
 Mo 'is ' liriDcipal Questions and Difficulties in 
 
 the Stratonici, from Strato Lampsacenus : and 
 Hobbes seems to have been of this opinion. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 67. marg. 
 Sect. 4. Those Atheists who held matter to be 
 inanimate were called arofxiKot. Of these, some 
 attempted to solve the phenomena of nature, by 
 having recourse to the unmeaning language of 
 qualities and forms, as the Anaximandrians, who 
 thought they Avere produced by infinite active force, 
 upon immense matter, acting without design : 
 others, by the figure and motion which they sup- 
 posed to be essential to those atoms : these were 
 the Democritici ; whose philosophy differed but 
 very little from the Epicureans, who evidently 
 borrowed many of their notions from Democritus. 
 
 Sect. 5. Diagoras and Theodorus among the 
 ancients, as Vaninus among the moderns, are 
 reckoned martyrs for Atheism. 
 
 Collier or Bayle in Norn. Buddai Hist. Phil. 
 c. iv. § 43 — 46, et 48. Cudicorth' s System, 
 1. i. c. iii. pras. § 34 — 36, 105, 134—136. 
 Cyrus's Trav. vol. ii. p. 27, 28, 31, 32. Fetiel. 
 Phil. Lives, p. 110, and 253 , 254. Hale's 
 Oriff. of Man, § 4. c. iv. p. 340—342. Univ, 
 Hist. vol. i. p. 17—25. foi. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Sir William Temple is said to have been an 
 Atheist of a kind different from any of these, and 
 to have thought the present system of things neces- 
 sary and eternal ; consequently his notion has been 
 confuted, by all the arguments brought to prove the 
 world in its present form not to have been eternal, 
 and that matter is not self-existent, nor motion es- 
 sential to it, or thought producible from it alone. 
 Burnet's Hist, of his own Times, vol. ii. p. 670, 
 8vo. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The Chinese have been represented by some as a 
 nation of Atheists ; and Burnet declares that Con- 
 fucius and his followers, of whom Sir William 
 Temple was a great admirer, are to be reckoned 
 amongst those who were Atheists themselves, and 
 left religion to the people. But Couplet (in his 
 Declaratio Proemialis, p. 38.) has largely endea- 
 voured to prove, that though their modern writers, 
 /. e. those from about the tenth century of Chris- 
 tianity, have enteifained and propagated Atheisti- 
 cal notions among the philosophers of that nation, 
 Confucius and their earlier teachers were notwith- 
 standing votaries to pure religion ; but it is very 
 observable, that Confutnus (if the writings wliich 
 Couplet and his brethren, the Jesuit missionaries, 
 have published as his, do really contain a just re- 
 presentation of what he taught) says little of those 
 branches of duty which immediately relate to God ; 
 which leaves too much room for suspicion : though 
 he does indeed speak of spirits surrounding men 
 
2o2 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 when llicy sariiticr, in sucli a nmnnor, as to ajvicc 
 very m t il with the heathen notion of fjooci demons ; 
 wJiieh jK'rhaps dillers not niueh from the Christian 
 doetrine of angels. {Co)if. Morals, 1. ii. p. 50 — 52.) 
 Yet I have not been able to find any part of his 
 work in which he speaks expressly of God ; for that 
 very remarkable passaf;e (1. ii. p. 88 — '.)().) in which 
 he says so many sublime things of Him ivho is su- 
 premt'hj holy, must (when tiie whole of it is taken 
 together) bo understood of his Wise Man, and in 
 that \iew is so impious and profane, as to leave a 
 great deal of room to imagine that Uurnet was not 
 mistaken in the judgment he formed conrcrning 
 him ; nor ^^'ill what he says of the Great Spirit of 
 Heaven and Earth be suflieient wholly to remove 
 the suspicion, as it is most probable that it coin>- 
 cides with the notion of a plastic power, which some 
 of the Grecian Atheists held. 
 
 SCHOLll'M 3. 
 
 Besides the objections against design in the uni- 
 verse, (Prop. 27. Lem. to Dem. 3. Scliol. 2.) other 
 objections against a Deity have been urged ; the 
 chief of whiah amounts to this. That there is some- 
 thing in his nature, operations, and conduct, whicli 
 we cannot fully comprehend. But if this argument 
 be allowed as conclusive, we might be brought even 
 to doubt of our own existence. See Prop. 18. 
 Cor. 3. 
 
 Many other arguments or excuses brought for 
 Atheism do not deserve a particular place here, as 
 will appear by consulting the passages here referred 
 to. 
 
 Cudworth's Syst. Book 1 . c. ii. § 5 — 22. Gus- 
 trelof Nat. Rel p. 187—212, 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 4. 
 
 It seems reasonable to conclude, that the fear of 
 punishment from a Divine Being, and a desire of 
 seeming wiser than others, have been the chief 
 causes of Atheism ; and perhaps the absurd notions 
 which some have entertained of the Deity, and the 
 unworthy manner in which those who profess to be- 
 lieve in him have acted, may be reckoned among 
 the most fatal occasions of it. 
 
 Gastr. ib. p 230—248. Scott's Christian Life, 
 vol. ii. p. 84, 85 ; Works, vol. i. p. 221, 222. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It may not be improper hereto hint at the strange 
 conduct of Tully in his celebrated book Dc Nutura 
 Deorum, who only slightly touches on the opinion 
 of Anaxagoras, that all things were produced by 
 one Infinite Mind, and gives no patron to that 
 opinion, nor so much as spends one page or sec- 
 tion in discussing it, though he assigns proper ad- 
 vocates to defend at large the Stoical and Epicu- 
 rean principles, as w ell as the Academical ; and 
 after all, leaves his reader under the impressioa of 
 the Epicdrean objections against Providence ; only 
 
 coldly Idling us, that they were not on the whole, in 
 his opinion, so probable as the contrary doctrine, j 
 It is observable, that the most religious passage in 
 all Tully 's works is only a fragment preserved by 
 Lactantius. 
 
 Middlcton's Life of Cie. vol. iii. 8vo, p. 350, 351 . 
 
 SCHOLU'M 6. 
 
 Having thus established the proof of the existence , 
 of God, we now proceed in the following proposi- 
 tions to consider the chief of his perfections. 
 
 LECTURE XXXIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXX. 
 
 God is eternal, i.e. he has existed, and will ever 
 exist. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Drf 27. Cor. 1. 1. Whatever is self-existent is 
 eternal. 
 
 Def. 30. 2. God is self-existent. 
 1,2. 3. God is eternal. Q. E. D. 
 
 Wilkins's Nat. Rel. p. 120 — 123. Abcrn. vol. i. 
 p. 182—191. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 God is immutable. Vid. Def. 27. Cor. 3. 
 
 Wilkins's ib. p. 115—1 17. Collib. Inq. p. 56, 57 ; 
 edit. 3. p. 66, 07. Abern. p. 198 — 200. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It must be acknowledged there is something to 
 us imcomprehensible in the Divine Eternity, in 
 whatever view we attempt to conceive of it. A 
 successive eternity is what the mind can form no 
 consistent idea of ; for it seems that, if there had 
 been a fifth, a tenth, or hundredth, there must have 
 been some first ; and there can be nothing absolutely 
 infinite, to which a continual addition is making. 
 On the other hand, it is impossible for us to con- 
 ceive of an eternity so instantaneous, as to exclude 
 all past and future, and to be but one point of dura- 
 tion : this would make that space of time, to which 
 millions of years are as nothing, but a small part of 
 an hour or a minute, and is in effect declaring that 
 God is now creating the world, and also now de- 
 stroying it, supposing it ever to be destroyed. In- 
 deed, if all that were meant by an instantaneous 
 eternity when applied to God were this : — That all 
 things, whether past or future, are as open to his 
 view as those things which exist in the present mo- 
 ment, — this would be intelligible, but would not 
 remove the difficulty of a successive eternity : and 
 to reply (as some have done) that this eternity is 
 not to be considered as duration at all, but as ne- 
 cessary existence, to which neither succession nor 
 instantaneousness have any relation at all, more 
 
 I 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 253 
 
 than colour to sound, leaves the question, I think, 
 under the same darkness as before. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is to be remembered, that this 
 difficulty does not arise from the doctrine of the 
 Deity alone, but is common to every scheme that 
 supposes any thing eternal, as something must cer- 
 tainly be {Prop. 19.) ; and it would follow from 
 .supposing one atom to be so, besides all the other 
 absurdities arising from the denial of an intelligent 
 self-existent cause. 
 
 Clarke's Serm. vol. i. p. 81, 82. 8vo. Collih. 
 
 Inq. p. 204—211 ; edit. 3. p. 2Ab—2^. Rel. 
 
 of Nat. p. 69, 70. Watts's Hymns, I. ii. No. 
 
 17 and 67 ; see also his Ontology, c. iv. p. 
 
 12 — 17. Ahem. vol. i. p. 201—207. Soame 
 
 Jenyns's Disquisitions, No. 4. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXI. 
 God is omnipotent ; i. e. no effect can be assigned 
 so great, but he is able to produce it. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Def. 30. 1. The very act of creating any being 
 out of nothing, implies a power so great, that we 
 can imagine nothing impossible to a Being who can 
 perform it by his own power. 
 
 Prop. 27. Dem. 3. 2. The amazing greatness and 
 variety of the works of nature, serve still more sen- 
 sibly to illustrate the power of the Creator. 
 
 3. We see nothing M'hich betrays any marks of 
 impotency or weakness in the Deity. 
 
 1, 2, 3. 4. We have no reason to believe that 
 any internal defect limits the Divine Power. 
 
 5. If there were any other Being capable of con- 
 trolling him in the execution of his volitions, tliis 
 Being must be superior to him, and might (for any 
 thing that appears) have prevented or destroyed his 
 being as well as his operations ; which would be 
 inconsistent with the idea of God ( Def. 30.^ as a 
 
 ' self-existent Being. 
 
 6. 6. There is no external power to limit the 
 operations of the Divine Being. 
 
 4,6. 7. His power is unlimited, and consequently 
 can produce any effect, be it ever so great. Q. E. D. 
 Wilkins of Nat. Rel. p.' 145, 146, p. 127—129. 
 8vo edit. Clarke's Serm. vol. i. p. 119, 120, 
 
 206— 216. Howe's Works, vol.i.p. 106, 107, 
 67 — 69. Livinij Temple, vol. 1. 8vo edit. p. 
 
 207— 215. Ahem. vol. i. No. 8. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 If God he omnipotent, then nothing can be ne- 
 cessary to the production of any being in any sup- 
 posed circumstance of time or place, but that God 
 should will its existence in this circumstance. 
 
 Jen. Pneum. Prop. ,30. Ralphson tie Spatio 
 reali, p. 67. Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 23 ; 
 Note. Llviru/ Temple, p. .'iO, 51. 
 
 LECTURE XXXV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM I. 
 
 Another argument to prove that God is infinite in 
 power is drawn from Def. 28. Cor. ; for it is cer- 
 tain he has some degree of power. A third from 
 Prop. 27. Dem. 1. Cor. 2. ; since it is evident that 
 to conceive of God as omnipotent, is much more 
 honourable than to conceive of him as a Being of 
 limited power. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 If it be objected to the fifth step of the preceding 
 demonstration, That a power merely equal to that of 
 God's might be sufficient to control him in the 
 execution of his volitions, and that we have not yet 
 proved there is no being equal to him, — it may be 
 replied, that in some cases to control the acts of 
 another must argue some superiority ; v. g. if A. 
 will that a creature should exist, and B. that it 
 should not exist ; if it does not exist, then B. in 
 that instance triumphs over A. and appears supe- 
 rior to him ; but if this answer should not be judged 
 satisfactory, then it must be remembered, that we 
 have shown that God's power is not limited by 
 any internal defect, and that no external limit- 
 ing power has yet been proved ; and if it should 
 hereafter be proved, by any argument not depend- 
 ing upon his omnipotence, that there is but one 
 such self-existent being as we call God, then this 
 proposition will be demonstrated in all its extent. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It must be owned that we have no conceptions of 
 a creating power otherwise than by its effects : 
 nevertlieless, that will not prove that there is no 
 such thing ; — a blind man might as well argue 
 against the existence of light. 
 
 Collib. Inq. p. 60—64 ; edit. 3. 70—75. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It i.s. no limitation of the Divine Power, to assert 
 that God is not able to do what implies a contra- 
 diction ; for that is in effect to do nothing at all ; 
 and consequently, a pretended power of doing it, 
 is no power at all. 
 
 Col. Inq. p. 180, 181 ; edit. 3. p. 217, 218. 
 Crouz. Log. vol. i. p. 403, 404. Clarke's 
 Serm. vol. i. p. 216 — 219. Howe's Works, 
 ^ol. i. p. 104. Living Temple, 8vo edit. vol. 
 i. p. 339—343. 
 
 LECTURE XXXVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXII. 
 All the creatures of God, whether they be cor- 
 poreal or incorporeal, sensible or spiritual, owe 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 their olUcnry for proclucins;- any eflVet (o the agency 
 of a i)i\iiie Power in and upon them, at tlie very 
 time when sueh effect is produced. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 Dcf. 27. 1. Whatever is derived from anoUicr, 
 docs not necessarily exist in the first moment of its 
 beins- 
 
 2. Wliatever docs not necessarily exist in the first 
 moment of its existence, cannot necessarily exist in 
 the second, or in any followin<>; moment ; but must 
 ow e its continued existence to the will of the Bein<j 
 by whom it w as at first produced : for by supposing 
 its existence to continue when that will ceased, we 
 should suppose it to be without the cause of its 
 being. Q. E. D. 
 
 1,2. 3. All the creatures of God do every mo- 
 ment depend upon God for the continuance of tlicir 
 existence. 
 
 Collih. Inq. p. (54, 63; edit. 3. p. 75, 76. 
 Howe's Worhs, vol. i. p. Gb. Burnet on Art. 
 p. 30. Watts's Ess. 1. ix. § 2. p. 201—208, 
 213. lb. No. xi. p. 267, 268. Cheijne's 
 Princ. part. i. § 9. Baxt. on the Soul, vol. 
 i. p. 225 — 227. Sherlock on Providence, 9th 
 edit. p. 19, 20. 
 
 4. The power of action implies something more 
 than continued existence. 
 
 3, 4. 3. Whatever is created by God depends 
 continually upon him for the continuance of its 
 active powers. 
 
 6. If from any constitution of nature whatsoever, 
 there could necessarily arise any act of power in- 
 dependent on the concurrent volition of God, it is 
 dillicult to say where that independent power w ould 
 stop ; and for aught appears, that Being might be 
 omnipotent. 
 
 7. The w isest and greatest philosophers have not 
 been able to trace any connexion between solidify 
 and gravitation, or motion and thought ; therefore 
 a perpetual omnipotent agency seems to be the most 
 probable way of accounting for those otherwise un- 
 accountable phenomena. 
 
 Baxter's Malho, vol. i. Conf. iv. § 44 — 49. 
 Baxt. on. the Soul, vol. i. § 2. pras. p. 94 — 
 101 ; and note, p. 101—108, 128—139. 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 300. 
 
 5, 6, and 7. 8. Valet propositio. 
 
 Virg. JEn. vi. ver. 724, &c. Owen on the Sp. 
 p. 138—140. p. 77. p. 465, 466. Camb. 
 Exist, p. 111. C/«r/(e's xvii. *S'er?n. No. 7. p. 
 171. Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. 15. B. p. 27. 
 A. p. 183. A. p. 100. B. South' s Scrm. vol. 
 iii. p. 461. Retinoids' s Works, p. 7. Jenh. 
 Reasonab. of Christianity, vol. ii. p. 484. 
 Marc. Anton. 1. v. c. 40. Abern. vol. i. 
 Serm. vii. p. 240—244; Lond. edit. p. 225— 
 
 229. Price's Four Dissertations, No. 1. 
 Dr. Stebbing's Discourse on Providence. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION II. 
 To those who allow the universality of Divine 
 Providence on principles independent on this pro- 
 position, which many do, another argument has 
 been proposed ; which will stand thus : — 
 
 1. God must will that any creature should, or 
 should not, exist, with any given power, in any 
 given moment ; for not to w ill tliat it should so 
 exist, would on the present supposition be in effect 
 willing that it should not. 
 
 2. If he will that it should not so exist, it will 
 not : otherwise God would not be omnipotent, con- 
 trary to Prop. 31. 
 
 1, 2, 3. 4, Therefore its existence in such cir- 
 cumstances, i. e. its ellicacy for producing any cflcct 
 in question, is owing to the divine volition, i. e. to 
 the agency of God in and upon it.* Q. E, D. 
 
 LECTURE XXXVII. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 What we generally call second causes, are not 
 causes in the strict propriety of speech ; and what 
 we call the laies of nature, are only certain rules 
 and methods by which God generally proceeds in 
 those of his actions which fall under our cognizance. 
 Nevertheless, creatures may in an inferior sense be 
 called causes, as certain events commonly follow 
 certain changes in their condition and will. 
 
 Boyle's Inquiry into Nat. apud Ray's Wisdom 
 of God, p. 53, 34. Seed's Serm. No. 5. vol. ii. 
 p. 127, &c. Cheyne's Princ. part i. § 4. p. 
 4 — 6. Nat. Disp. vol. iv. p. 50 — 52. Ram- 
 say's Princ. vol. i. p. 251 — 255. Baxt. on 
 the Soul, vol. i. p. 179—181. Watts's On- 
 tology, p. 329 and 365. Clarke at Boyle's Lec- 
 tures, part ii. p. 222. 6th edit. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It evidently appears that the providence, i. e. the 
 notice and care, of God extends itself to all events, 
 even the smallest as well as the greatest. Vid. 
 Prop. 27. Dem. 4. 
 
 Rel. of Nat. p. 95—98. Scolt's Christian Life, 
 vol. ii. p. 162 — 166. Bnxt. on the Soul, p. 
 182, 183. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 We hence learn, into what we arc to resolve the 
 
 ♦ A^. B. I lay liut little stress upon tliis second demonstration, 
 though it once appeared plaiiKihle; for perhaps the universality of 
 Divine Providence cannot be demonstrated on principles independent of 
 this proposition ; so that at best it is hut arguinentuvi ad hovditem : and 
 the force of this reasoning: may be so probably retorted with respect to 
 the irrational volitions of free creatures, that it seeuison the whole best 
 to wave it, and to allow, that even while I'rovidence is attentive to an 
 event, there may be a medium between absolutely willing either that it 
 should or siiould not exist, which is inconsistent with the first step. , 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 255 
 
 power which our minds liave of moving our bodies, 
 viz. into a divine volition in such and such instances 
 to produce motions in our bodies, correspondent to 
 the volitions of our minds. To this agree the ease 
 and swiftness with which those motions are per- 
 formed on the act of our will, and the constancy of 
 other involuntary, but always needful motions, 
 which cannot be solved by any mechanical laws. 
 Prop. 1. Sell. 2. 
 
 Clarke and Leibnitz, No. 5. App. Clerici 
 
 Pneum. § 1. c. vi. § 12—16. Camh. Exist. 
 
 S 46, 47. Matho, vol. i. Conf. 6. § 79. Seed's 
 
 Serm. vol. ii. p. 150. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 The wonderful instances of instinct in brutes may 
 most probabl}' be accounted for this way: God, by 
 some unknown impression upon them, moving them 
 to and assisting them in such actions, as on the 
 whole are most convenient ; though the rationale 
 depends on principles, which they cannot know. 
 Def. 19. Cor. 2. 
 
 Sped. vol. ii. No. 120. svh fin. No. 121. sub init. 
 
 Camh. Exist. % 23. p. 46 — 48. Nat. Disp. 
 
 vol. i. p. 285, 286; edit. 2. p. 197, 198. 
 
 Mat/to, vol. i. Conf. vi. § 82, S.*?. Origen adv. 
 
 Ccls. 1. iv. p. 217. Seed's Serm. vol. ii. 
 
 p. 148, &c. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 Hence we infer the absurdity of the doctrine of a 
 plastic nature, which some have thus described : — 
 " It is an incorporeal created substance, endued 
 with a vegetative life, but not with sensation or 
 thought ; penetrating the whole created universe, 
 being co-extended with it ; and, under God, moving 
 matter, so as to produce the phenomena, which 
 cannot be solved by mechanical laws : active for 
 ends unknown to itself, not being expressly con- 
 
 ' scious of its actions, and yet having an obscure idea 
 
 ; of the action to be entered upon." 
 
 i As the idea itself is most obscure, and indeed 
 inconsistent, so the foundation of it is evidently 
 weak. It is intended by this, to avoid the incon- 
 venience of subjecting God to the trouble of some 
 changes in the created world, and the meanness of 
 others : but it appears from this proposition, that 
 even upon this hypothesis he would still be the 
 Author of them ; besides, that to Omnipotence no- 
 thing is troublesome, nor those things mean, when 
 considered as a part of a system, whicii alone might 
 
 I appear to be so. 
 
 I Cudw. Int. Syst. book i. e. i. p. 149 — 172. prers. 
 
 178 — 181. More's /mm. of I lie Soul, 1. iii. c. 
 12. ffis Pliilosop/tical Worlts, p. 212—215. 
 Ray's Wisd. of God, p. 51, 52. Cheyne's 
 Prine. part i. c. i. § .3. p. 3, 4. 
 
 LECTURE XXXVIII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is objected, That if God be thus the Author of 
 all our ideas, and of all our motions, then also of 
 all our volitions, which would be inconsistent with 
 that liberty of choice asserted. Prop. 16. 
 
 Ans. On the principles laid down above, the will 
 is not properly an eflfect of any necessary efficient 
 cause ; but rather a tendency towards the produc- 
 tion of an eileet, so far as w e apprehend it to be in 
 our power (Prop. 1. gr. 4.); and for any thing 
 which appears in the objection, or is asserted in 
 the proposition, when all the requisites to volition 
 are supposed, it lies in our own breasts to determine 
 one way or another ; and though. God, upon such a 
 determination of ours, adds efficacy to the volition, 
 even when it is most foolish and pernicious, that 
 does not properly make him the Author of the 
 action (vid. Def. 10.) ; and they who suppose a 
 stock of power lodged in the hand of the creature 
 by virtue of its original constitution, (God at the 
 same time knowing in every particular how it will 
 be used,) will labour under the same difficulty in 
 this respect with us ; nay, their hypothesis at last 
 will be found equivalent to ours ; and if we allow 
 that universal presence and inspection of God, 
 which all who are not Atheists admit, it will be 
 nearly as difficult to account for his not interposing 
 to prevent such actions, as for his adding efficacy 
 to them in a natural way. 
 
 Camh. Exist. \ 67. Howe on Prescience, \ 6, 7. 
 Op. vol. ii. p. 600 — 503. Watts's Diss, on 
 Trin. No. 5. p. 142, 143. His Works, vol. 
 vi. p. 604, 605. Mandev. Free Thoughts, p. 
 108, 109. Baxt. on the Soul, vol. i. p. 205— 
 210. Collih. Inq. p. 195—198; edit. 3. p. 
 235—238. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is further objected, That if God produces all 
 our ideas by his own impression on the mind, then 
 a material world w.as not necessary, and conse- 
 (|uently it would be unbecoming the nature and 
 character of God to produce it. — Vid. Prop. 31. Cor. 
 
 Ans. 1. The denial of any material world at all, 
 according to Berkley's and Collier's scheme, would 
 remove the foundation of this objection : neverthe- 
 less, for reasons which will afterwards be men- 
 tioned, we do not choose to have recourse to that 
 solution ; but add, 
 
 2. Allowing the creation of a material world to 
 be to us utterly unaccountable on this supjjosition, 
 we cannot therefore certainly say that it was in 
 vain ; and as for its not being absolutely necessary, 
 it will not easily be granted that any thing that God 
 does is so. 
 
 3. If we grant that God has a power of producing 
 
•250 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 any idea in our minds without an cxti rnal ari lu - 
 typo, (of whii'li dioanis seem to be an evident proof, 
 and M hieli is so certainly included in Omnipotence 
 that lew deny it,) then it will be as hard to account 
 for the creation of the material world as if we ad- 
 mil tlie proposition to be true. 
 
 sriioi.HM 3. 
 
 It is further objected, Tiiat it is a dishonour to the 
 Di\inc Being, to suppose him immediately con- 
 cerned in the most mean and trilling events ; and 
 that it would be exceedingly ridi(nilous, were our 
 discourse commonly to be formed upon the prin- 
 ciples of this proposition. 
 
 Alls. We before (('or. 5.) observed the usefulness 
 and beauty of many tilings on the u-holc, whicli, 
 when considered in themselves, may appear mean 
 and vile ; (of which the discharge of the fa>ces from 
 animal bodies is a remarkable instance ;) and we 
 raay further add, that there is no occasion at all for 
 introducing a change in our common forms of 
 speech, seeing tliere is a sense in wliicli tliosc things 
 may be said to be the actions of the creatures, which 
 are done by the intermediation of their volition, 
 thougli not by an active force of their own, at that 
 time independent on the concurrent volition of God 
 (Cor. 1.); so that, upon the whole, they may be 
 sullicicntly distinguished from those which are, 
 with full propriety and in the highest sense, called 
 the actions of God. 
 
 Crouz. Lo(j. vol. i. p. 436 — 440, 442. Watts' s 
 Ess. No. 3. c. iii. § 10—15, p. 87—90. 
 
 LECTURE XXXIX. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is further objected. That it would be a dishonour 
 to the Divine Being, that, whereas a common work- 
 man can make a machine which shall go on for 
 some time without his interposition, God should 
 not be able to produce what can operate without his 
 perpetual agency. 
 
 To this it is answered, 1. All human arts are but 
 the means of altering some circumstances in the 
 form and disposition of matter, which before ex- 
 isted under certain laws, entirely independent on 
 the will of the artist ; but it is the peculiar glory of 
 God to have a whole world of creatures in a per- 
 petual dependence on himself. 
 
 2. That when we assert a perpetual divine agency, 
 we readily acknowledge that matters are so con- 
 trived as not to need a divine interposition in a dif- 
 ferent manner from that in which it had been con- 
 stantly exerted. And it is mo.st evident, that an 
 unremitting energy, displayed in such circum- 
 stances, greatly exalts our idea of God, instead of 
 
 depressing it ; and therefore, by the way, is so much 
 the more likely to be true. Vid. Prop. 27. Cor. 2. 
 
 3. We may add, that this argument tends to 
 prove, contrary to the opinion of most that have 
 advanced it, that God might make a crcirture whicli 
 should subsist without his supporting presence and 
 agency. 
 
 Burn, on Art. p. 33. VVntts's Ess. No. ix. 
 § 2. p. 201— 20H. Collih. Inq. p. 195—198 ; 
 edit. 3. p. 235—238. Clarke and Leibnitz, 
 p. 3—7. § 4. p. i;j— 17. § 4. p. 27— -31. §6—9. 
 p. 43^7. § 0—9. p. 303—365. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXIII. 
 
 God is a Being of perfect knowledge: i. e. he 
 knows in the most certain and perfect manner wfiat- 
 ever can be the object of knowledge, ?. e. whatever 
 does not imply a contradiction. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 
 Def. 30. Prop. 27. 1. God is a Spirit, i. e. a 
 thinking Being. 
 
 1. 2. God must have some degree of knowledge. 
 
 2. Def. 28. Cor. 3. There is no reason for set- 
 ting bounds to his knowledge, i. e. he knows all 
 things in the most perfect manner. Q. E. D. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION II. 
 Def.^0. Prop. 27. Cor. 32. 1. God has made 
 all the creatures, and continually actuates and sup- 
 ports them. 
 
 1. 2. He must know all that relates to them. 
 
 3. He must by consciousness know himself. 
 
 2, 3. 4. He must know all things. Q. E. D. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 To this it may be objected, that there may be some 
 other self-existent creator ; and that this being with 
 his creatures may be unknown to God : and it is 
 allowed, that the argument of this second demon- 
 stration cannot appear in its full evidence till we 
 have proved the unity of the Godhead : neverthe- 
 less, the second step alone would be suflicient to 
 prove that he knew all things that belong to us ; 
 which is that in which we are chiefly concerned. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION III. 
 1. Knowledge is an attribute of so great impor- 
 tance, that without it, whatever conceptions we 
 could form of the Deity, would be very low and im- 
 perfect. 
 
 Prop. 27. Cor. 2. 2. It is reasonable to conceive 
 of God in the most honourable manner. 
 
 1 , 2. 3. It is reasonable to conceive of God as a 
 Being of great knowledge ; and to remove from our 
 idea of him, as much as possible, all degrees of error, 
 ignoran(!e, and uncertainty. 
 
 4. There is no apparent reason for limiting Iiis 
 knowledge, so as to exclude from it any thing which 
 can be the object of intelligence to us or any other 
 being. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 257 
 
 3, 4. 5. It is reasonable to conclude that he is a 
 Being of perfect knowledge. Q. E. D. 
 
 Clarke's Post. Serm. vol. i. p. 248— 2,52. No. 11. 
 Wilk. Nat. Rel. p. 124—128. Tillots. vol. 
 ii. p. 599, 600, C02, 603, 609—611. Howe's 
 Works, vol. i. p. 102, 103. Abernethy, vol. 
 i. No. 9. p. 290—306. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 That God is a Being of boundless knowledge as 
 well as power, was the opinion of the wisest hea- 
 thens ; as appears from the custom of swearing, as 
 well as from many passages quoted from their 
 writers in the references above. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence it appears that God knows all the secrets 
 of the heart, and therefore is most able to judge of 
 the real characters of men. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It appears that any hypocrisy, when we are deal- 
 ing with him, or addressing him, is very great folly, 
 though it may be most artfully disguised. 
 
 LECTURE XL. 
 
 DEFINITION XXXII. 
 
 A Spirit is said to be present in any place, 
 when it is capable of perceiving and immediately 
 operating upon the body which fills tliat place, or 
 on spirits united to such bodies, i. e. spirits per- 
 ceiving and acting by them. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXIV. 
 
 God is OMNIPRESENT, 1. 6. present in everyplace. 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 33. 1 . God perceives the changes of bodies 
 in whatever place they arc, and of all spirits united 
 to them. 
 
 Piop.^X. 2. Heiscapable of operating upon thera. 
 
 3. It is much more honourable to God, to conceive 
 of him as present in all places, than as excluded 
 from any. 
 
 1, 2, 3. Dcf. .32. and 28. Cor. 2. 4. God is om- 
 nipresent. Q. E. D. 
 
 Howe, ib. vol. i. p. 108 — 110. Tillots. vol. ii. 
 p. 756, 7.57. Collib. Inq. p. 71, 72; edit. 3. 
 p. 84, 85. Abernethy, vol. i. Serm. vii. 
 Spect. vol, viii. No. 565, 571. 
 
 scholium 1. 
 The first of these arguments only proves that God 
 is where any of his creatures are ; and it is only on 
 supposition that there is hut one God, that it will 
 follow from hence that he is every where ; but it is 
 to be remembered, that the argument, Dcf. 28. Cor. 
 if allowed, will prove, that what can by a necessity 
 of its own nature act upon a body in any place, may 
 s 
 
 by a necessity of its nature act upon bodies in every 
 place ; which will be so far a proof of God's omni- 
 presence, independent on his unity ; and if it be his 
 property to fill space, he must for the same reason 
 lill all space. 
 
 scholium 2. 
 It is a great question. Whether God be so present 
 as to fill space ? This depends upon another ques- 
 tion, Whetl)er it be the property of an immaterial 
 Spirit to fill space? with reference to which I must 
 confess, that when I conceive of spirit as diflused 
 through any part of space, I immediately conceive 
 of it as something corporeal; and consequently 
 cannot conceive how it can be asserted of the Divine 
 Being, by those who grant his immateriality, as 
 most of the patrons of this doctrine do ; but this 
 will be more largely considered below. 
 
 Newt. Princip. p. 483. Saur. Serm. vol. ii. 
 p. 60—64. Watts's Ess. No. vi. § 5. p. 165 — 
 169. Rams. Phil. Princ, Prop. viii. vol. i. 
 p. 57—72. 
 
 DEFINITION XXXIII. 
 An event not come to pass is said to be contin- 
 gent, which cither may, or may not, be. What is 
 already done, is said to have been contingent, if it 
 might or might not have been. 
 
 corollary 1. 
 Contingency is opposed to necessity, not to cer- 
 tainty ; for that is said to be certain which will be, 
 without considering whether it be necessary or not. 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lcct. p. 100. p. 95. edit. 6. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 There are in fact various things, which are in 
 their nature contingent ; for such arc all the actions 
 of free creatures, considered as free. — Vid. Def. 22. 
 and Prop. 16. 
 
 Watt's Ont. c. iii. p. 331—333. Hutcheson's 
 Metaph. part i. c. 4. § 2. p. 23—25. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXV. 
 Future contingencies are known to God. 
 N. B. — Though this be comprehended in Prop. 
 33. yet we shall here give a distinct demonstration 
 of it, because it has been so much (-ontrovcrted, 
 and so much of what follows depends upon it. 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. So much depends upon future contingencies, 
 that if they be unknown to God, almost every thing 
 relating to those of his creatures which are free 
 agents must be unknown to him too ; so tliat our 
 ideas of the divine knowledge and perfection will 
 by this means be very much diminished. 
 
 2. Wise and sagacious men are capal)le of 
 making very probable conjectures of future events ; 
 and therefore it seems dishonourable to deny that 
 God has a power of forming an unerring judgment 
 concerning them. 
 
 3. If God does not foreknow future contingencies, 
 
•268 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 III' is daily jjrov. iiig; inoie and more knowing-, in a 
 prodigious anil incomparable degree bej ond any of 
 his creatures ; wliieh would be inconsistent with his 
 immutability, and therefore contrary to Prop. ,i. Cor. 
 1, '2, and 3. 4. Valet propositio. 
 
 Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 103, 104. /?</. nf 
 Nat. p. 99—102. Tillots. vol. ii. p. C05, 606. 
 C/arla 's Postb. Serin, vol. i. No. 11. p. 258 — 
 268. Abern. vol. i. Semi. ix. p. 313 — 323. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 God always wills the same thing ; for vvhatcver 
 appears to him eligible in any circumstances which 
 actually are, must always have appeared eligible 
 on the foresight of those circumstances, ?. e. he must 
 always have willed it ; supposing, what we shall 
 hereafter endeavour to prove, that his will is always 
 agreeable to reason, and never changed without it. 
 
 LECTURE XLI. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 If it should hereafter be proved, on the one hand, 
 that God has foretold the evil actions of his crea- 
 tures ; and on the other, tliat he could not have 
 made them necessary, then it will appear tliat this 
 proposition is true in fact, whatever plausible ob- 
 jections may be raised against it. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The principal objection to the proposition is, 
 That certainly to foreknow contingencies is a con- 
 tradiction ; since nothing can be the object of know- 
 ledge but wiiat exists in itself or in its necessary 
 cause ; and, consequently, to deny their being 
 known to God is no more limiting his knowledge, 
 than it limits his power to own he is not able to do 
 what is self-contradictory. 
 
 To this we answer. That the certainty of an event 
 does not\Ta\Ay necessity, {Def. 33. Cor. 1.) and con- 
 sequently, that there may be a foundation for cer- 
 tain foresight, where the event itself is contingent ; 
 or, in other words, the thing will not be because 
 God foresees it, but God foresees it because it will 
 certainly be. It may be added, that not to be able 
 to do a contradiction, is in efl'eet no limitation of 
 the power of God, because a power to effect a con- 
 tradiction is indeed no power at all {Prop. 31. 
 Sc/wl.) ; but not to know what the will of a free 
 creature will determine, is indeed a limitation of 
 knowledge, or, in other w ords, a difficulty with which 
 the divine understanding (if the propo.sition be 
 denied) is puzzled and confounded. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, that the method by 
 which God foresees these contingencies, is un- 
 known ; for I think it not safe to say, as some do, 
 that the mind is so constituted, that it does always 
 
 in fact, though not necessarily, determine itself ac- 
 cording to the preponderaney of the motive offered 
 to it; which, if it were granted, would not be a cer- 
 tain foundation of prescience ; since if this scheme 
 could be reconciled with the doctrine of liberty, as 
 stated Prop. \6. yet it would subject the Divine 
 Being to a possibility of error in every particular, 
 and in all tlie .schemes depending upon each. We 
 arc sure, by Prop. 33. that God knows all things 
 that actually arc, whereas our own knowledge is 
 limited to a very narrow sphere ; and therefore, 
 since we are sure the divine understanding does in 
 that instance entirely exceed our comprehension, 
 w by may wc not as well allow that it may exceed it 
 in the manner of foreknowing future contingen- 
 cies ; or where is it we may more reasonably sup- 
 pose the human mind to be puzzled, than when it 
 would attempt to explain the method of divine 
 knowledge ? 
 
 Crelliiis dc Deo, p. 67, 68. ap. Op. vol. iv. 
 
 CoUib. Inq. p. 91 ; edit. 3. p. 106—109. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 100—104. Rel. of 
 
 Nat. p. 102, 103. Tillots. vol. ii. p. 606—608. 
 
 Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 104 — 106. vol. ii. p. 
 
 503, 504. More's Enchir. lib. iii. c. ii. § 2. 
 
 Lettres Pers. vol. i. No. 56. Jackson on 
 
 Human Liberty, p. 50 — 76. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 To the second step it is answered, God may in- 
 deed form very probable conjectures, vastly beyond 
 the reach of any human sagacity, though he cannot 
 certainly foreknow the event. 
 
 To this the principal reply is, That to suppose 
 God always in doubt, and ever liable to be mis- 
 taken, seems inconsistent with the perfections of 
 his nature, and is a less honourable way of con- 
 ceiving of him ; especially if we consider, that as an 
 event lies more and more distant, the possibility 
 of an error in each intermediate circumstance will 
 so much affect the rest, that in a little time there 
 may be upon complicated schemes almost a total 
 darkness ; but should it ever appear that he has 
 actually and positively without any hesitation fore- 
 told future contingent events, and that he has even 
 put the evidence of his true divinity upon such pre- 
 dictions, that would abundantly confirm the second 
 argument : nor would the hypothesis of a constant 
 though not necessary determination of the will ac- 
 cording to motives {Schol. 1.) be sufficient to vindi- 
 cate such a conduct ; since still there was in every 
 instance at least a possibility of mistake. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 To step the third it is objected, That such a 
 change as is there supposed is not inconsistent with 
 the immutability of the Divine Being, seeing his 
 nature and attributes are still the same, though his 
 ideas are supposed to be different at different times ; 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 259 
 
 but it is answered, This is only a partial immuta- 
 bility ; whereas the arguments that prove the immu- 
 tability of God in general will not admit of such a 
 change in the divine views and purposes, as must be 
 involved in the ignorance of future contingent events. 
 Collib. Itiq. p. 56, 57 ; ed. 3. 66, 67. Ridgley's 
 Div. vol. i. p. 62.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It seems strange, that many who grant the uni- 
 versal foreknowledge of what will actually be, 
 should deny what they call scientia media, or hypo- 
 thetical prescience, i. e. the knowledge of what 
 would follow upon some certain suppositions, which 
 are not fact ; v. g. how King Gcorj^e would have 
 acted, if he had been Emperor of Germany ; or the 
 Emperor, if he had been King of Great Britain ; or 
 how any child who died in infancy would have be- 
 haved, if he had grown up to manhood. To object, 
 that this would suppose the Divine Mind filled 
 with a variety of vain speculations, is very incon- 
 clusive ; for it is difficult to say how God could in 
 any instance select any scheme as best, if he had 
 not a view of others with which it might be com- 
 pared. 
 
 Le Blanc's Thes. p. 454 — 458. JuvenaVs Sat. 
 X. ver. 350—354. 
 
 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 DEFINITION XXXIV. 
 
 That being is said to be speculatively wise, 
 who is able rightly to determine and judge of the 
 relation of means to their respective ends, and the 
 value and importance of those ends with respect to 
 the person by whom they are pursued ; and that 
 being is said to be practically wise, who deter- 
 mines his own choice in a manner agreeable to such 
 right views, so as that his own greatest happiness 
 may be most effectually promoted, if it be not yet 
 perfect, — and maintained, if it be. 
 
 corollary 1. 
 
 A being of great sagacity, who in some instances 
 chooses excellent ends and right means, yet neg- 
 lects the greatest of all, may be said to have a par- 
 tial practical, as well as speculative, wisdom, yet 
 must on the whole be accounted foolish. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Speculative wisdom is a part of knowledge. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXVI. 
 God is possessed of the highest degree l)0th of 
 speculative and practical wisdom. 
 
 * The f|iipstion, VVIietlier future enntingencies are known to fJod, 
 UDavoidahly enters into the grand controversy ronccrninir the Liberty 
 or Necessity of llie Unman Will. Arcordin^'ly, it will be foniid to 
 have been more or less discussed in the authors to whom we have referred 
 UDUer the sixteenth proposition. ' 
 
 S 2 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 27. Lein. to Dem. 3. and Dem. 4. 1. We 
 can conceive no more exquisite degrees of wisdom 
 than are displayed in the formation and preserva- 
 tion of the world, where we evidently see a most 
 astonishing subordination of means to ends, rising 
 through numberless degrees, in which the most 
 penetrating human understanding is soon swal- 
 lowed up. 
 
 2. We see nothing upon which we can with cer- 
 tainty pronounce that it is on the whole foolish, be- 
 cause we know not what its connexion may be, 
 and what end it may subserve. 
 
 Pope's Essay on Man. 
 
 1, 2. 3. So far as we can judge from fact, God 
 is speculatively wise. 
 
 Def. 34. Cor. 2. Prop. 33. 4. Speculative wis- 
 dom being included in knowledge, which was 
 before proved to belong to God, another argument 
 arises independent on the former. 
 
 3 and 4. 5. God is possessed of the highest de- 
 gree of speculative wisdom. 
 
 6. To choose and act, with an utter disregard to 
 his own felicity, when known, (as by the preceding 
 step he must know the most certain methods of 
 maintaining it,) would be a character in a rational 
 agent so unaccountable, and in so peculiar a man- 
 ner unworthy of Deity, that nothing could be more 
 dishonourable than to ascribe it to him. 
 
 5, 6. 7. Valet propositio. 
 
 Willi. Nat. Rel. p. 128, 129. Clarke at Boyle's 
 Lect. p. 106, 107. Tillots. vol. ii» p. 617, 
 618. Collib. Inq. p. 65, 66; edit. 3, p. 77, 78. 
 Abern. vol. i. Serm. x. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Philosophical liberty belongs to God in the most 
 perfect degree ; for that is indeed no other than the 
 practical wisdom here delincd, Vid. Def. 24 ; and 
 that liberty of action belongs to him, appears from 
 comparing Drf. 23. with Prop. 31. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It may be objected, that it is dishonourable to 
 the Divine Being, to suppose that one thing can be 
 more congruous to his happiness than another. To 
 this we reply. That we most readily acknowledge, 
 that it would be very absurd (for reasons afterwards 
 to be mentioned) to suppose that the Divine Felicity 
 depended on the exislcnce of his creatures, or on any 
 action of theirs. Nevertheless, it is reasonable to be- 
 lieve that the Divine Nature is such, that unspeakable 
 delight must arise to himself from some methods of 
 acting, which so perfect an understanding cannot 
 but approve ; and that, on the other hand, different 
 methods of acting must appear to him the objects of 
 aversion, as being in themselves absurd, contemp- 
 tible, and mean ; v. <■/. for him to do homage to any 
 of his creatures, as more excellent than himself ; 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 or to make a ciTaluro merely to torment it. It is so 
 tar from being- (lislioiioural)lc to God to suppose his 
 happiness inseparably eonnected with certain n»c- 
 tho<ls of aetiii;; rather than otliers, that wc could 
 think of nothiiifj n\ore reproachful, than to repre- 
 sent him as so arbitrary a bein;;, that of all possible 
 methods of actinn" which nii-jht be proposed to 
 him. it would be as congruous to his nature and hap- 
 piness to choose one as the other. 
 
 Fost. Serni. vol. i. No. 5. 
 
 LECTURE XLIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXVIl. 
 To inquire how far natural liberty bclonp;s to 
 God.— Vid. Def. 21. 
 
 SOI.l'TlON AND DKMONSTKATION. 
 
 1. Whenever any thing is more congruous to the 
 divine felicity than another, God certainly chooses 
 it ; nor can we suppose him to do otherwise ; for 
 that were inconsistent with his wisdom, and there- 
 fore contrary to Prop. 36. 
 
 2. Nevertheless, wlien of many things which 
 might be proposed any one is equally congruous to 
 his felicity with the rest, in this he has a natural 
 freedom of choice ; and it seems that many things 
 are indeed of such a nature. Now that this liberty 
 is to be ascribed to him, appears from its being 
 found in the human mind, and its being a perfec- 
 tion in its degree. — Prop. 16. Schol. 5. 
 
 Watts on Liberty, § 4. Prop. 11, 12, 14, 16. 
 Tracts, vol. iv. p. 41, 42, 44 — 48. Works, 
 vol. vi. p. 389—391 . Grove on Wisd. p. 2^1 
 —26, 30—37. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It is objected, That it is a reflection upon infinite 
 wisdom, to suppose that God does not always choose 
 that one scheme which is of all others the best, i. e, 
 the most congruous to his felicity. 
 
 It is replied. The objection goes upon the suppo- 
 sition that there is one fitter than the rest ; wliich 
 is begging the question. If it be inquired, WJiether 
 (Jod could not contrive such a scheme ? it is an- 
 swered, That we most readily allow, that he miglit 
 form a scheme, fitter than the best which any created 
 understanding could contrive ; but to say he could 
 not form another equal to that, is speaking without 
 proof ; nor does it appear that it would be any 
 honour to divine wisdom to maintain it, more than 
 to say, that having made one human face exceeding 
 beautiful, it should be impossible for him to make 
 another, whose beauty should on the whole be equal 
 to it, even though some of the features were differ- 
 ent ; and when God chooses one of those many 
 things, than which nothing could be fitter and 
 nothing better, li« may, agreeably to the common 
 
 forms of speech, l)e said to choose the fittest and the 
 best. Nevertheless, we must acknowledge, that 
 when we weak creatures speak of the Divine wis- 
 dom, we speak of what is to us an unsearchable 
 thing.* 
 
 Price's Four Dissertations, edit. 1. p. 121, note. 
 PROPOSITION XXXVlll. 
 God is infinitely happy. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 36. 1. His wisdom always enables him to 
 know, and engages him to choose, what is most con- 
 ducive to his happiness. 
 
 Prop. 31. 2. Being onuiipotcnt, he is always 
 able to do whatever he chooses, and above the pos- 
 sibility of being disturbed or hurt by any being 
 whatsoever. 
 
 To suppose the Divine happiness dependent on 
 any creature, would be most absurd ; for then, be- 
 fore that creature was produced, he must have 
 been unhappy ; and as he had eternally existed 
 before the production of that creature, he must 
 have been eternally unhappy, i. e. of all other 
 beings the most unhappy ; which it would be most 
 dishonourable and groundless to imagine. 
 
 1, 2, and 3. 4. God is infinitely happy. Q. E. D. 
 Tillots. vol. ii. p. 586—588. Serm. 78. p. 516, 
 517. edit. 4. Collih. Inq. p. 67—59 ; edit. 3. 
 p. 07—60. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It may be asked. Why does God act at all, if he 
 be, as the proposition supposes, perfectly happy 
 previously to action ? 
 
 To this we may answer. That the Divine Being 
 may find some unknown delight in those volitions 
 by which he communicates being and happiness to 
 his creatures ; nor does this suppose any change in 
 him, since it is reasonable to believe he always 
 wills the same thing, ( Prop. 35. Cor.) viz. That at 
 such times, and in such circumstances, beings should 
 exist ; and being secure of the execution of his voli- 
 tions, ( Prop. 31. Cor.) whatever delight he can he 
 supposed to have in the actual production and hap- 
 piness of those beings, he must have had in the pur- 
 pose of producing them ; so that in this respect, 
 things that are not are to him as if they were ; and 
 if it be said, that there is a change in him, when in 
 consequence of his volition those creatures are pro- 
 duced, he being now their Creator, supporter, bene- 
 factor, &e. which he was not before, it is answered, 
 This is no change in him ; a change of relations 
 necessarily arising from the very idea of a Creator, 
 and being perfectly consistent with the highest con- 
 ceivable immutability ; else God is changing in 
 numberless instances every moment, as the relations 
 of his creatures change. 
 
 * A doctrine very opposite to that of Ihfe text is maiiitariied by Mr. 
 Cooper, in his Phiiosopliical Essays. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 261 
 
 And if it were to be allowed, that we find some 
 degree of uneasiness attending the desire necessary 
 to produce action in us, which however seems not 
 to be wholly the case, yet we could not thence argue 
 that it must be so with regard to all created beings ; 
 much less can we assert it of God, in whose volitions 
 and motives of action we must, after all, acknow- 
 ledge there is something which we cannot fully ex- 
 plain. Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 505. 
 
 LECTURE XLIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION XXXIX. 
 There is no self-existent being besides that, whose 
 existence and attributes we liave demonstrated 
 above. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. If there were any other self-existent being, 
 besides that whose existence we have demonstrated, 
 he must in all respects be equal to him ; for other- 
 wise it would be natural to suppose some derivation 
 or dependency, inconsistent with self-existence, and 
 consequently with the hypothesis. 
 
 2. To suppose such another being, is to limit the 
 omnipotence of God ; for (not to plead God's sup- 
 posed incapacity to annihilate or change him ; be- 
 cause it may be said, that admitting him to be self- 
 existent, this would be a contradiction, and there- 
 fore an incapacity of effecting it no limitation of 
 power ; nor to insist upon his inability to control 
 him on account of the supposed omnipotence of this 
 other being, to which the same thought may be 
 applied) it seems he would be unable to act without 
 his consent, at least tacitly implied ; and if their 
 volitions should in any respect contradict each 
 other, which in things indilTerent they might at least 
 very possibly do, the one would be a restraint upon 
 the other, and so neither would be omnipotent. 
 
 1. .3. It would be impossible for God to conceal 
 any of his counsels or purposes from the knowledge 
 of such a being, which would in some degree dero- 
 gate from his majesty ; or if it were allowed, that he 
 might conceal any thing from that other being, — 
 that other being might, by a parity of reason, con- 
 ceal some things from him, and consequently he 
 would not be omniscient ; nay, supposing this being 
 to be infinite, the number and variety of things so 
 concealed might surpass any expression or imagin- 
 ation of ours. 
 
 4. It is a much greater glory to be the highest of 
 all beings, than to be only one of a number of 
 equals; now this supremacy of God would be 
 destroyed by the supposition of an equal, especially 
 when it is considered, that no one can say how 
 many they might be ; for we might allow two 
 millions as well as two. 
 
 2, 3, 4. 5. It would be much less honourable to 
 God, to suppose any such other being as himself, 
 than to suppose the contrary. 
 
 6. The unity of design, which seems to prevail in 
 the works of nature, makes it reasonable to believe 
 it had but one Author, and that he operated in an 
 uncontrolled manner.* 
 
 7. There is no reason from the light of nature to 
 conclude that there are any more deities than one, 
 or indeed to imagine there are any more ; since one 
 almighty and all-wise Being can do as much as a 
 thousand such beings can do ; and if any revelation 
 of it be pretended, it will be examined in its proper 
 place. 
 
 Gr. 5. Prop. 27. Cor. 2. gr. 6 and 7. 8. It is 
 reasonable to believe, there is no self-existent being, 
 besides that One, whose existence and attributes we 
 have already demonstrated. Q. E. D. 
 
 Wilkin's Nat. Rel. p. 113, 114. Burn, on Art. 
 p. 23, 24. Clerici Pneum. k iii. e. x. § 2 — 4. 
 Locke's Fam. Lett. p. 412 — 415. Howe's 
 Works, vol. i. p. 72, 73. Living Temple, 8vo, 
 vol. i. p. 226—228. Grot, de Verit. lib. i. 
 c. iii. Lactant. Instit. lib. i. c. iii. Abern. 
 vol. i. Serm. v. pras. p. 1G4 — 177. Priestley's 
 Inst. vol. i. Letters to Philosophical Unbe^ 
 lievers, part i. 
 
 LECTURE XLV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is readily acknowledged, that these arguments, 
 as well as many by which the foregoing proposition 
 has been proved, do not arise to full demonstration, 
 yet they carry a very strong degree of probability, 
 in which the mind must acquiesce till further proof 
 can be offered from other principles. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 2. 
 
 Limborch objects. That this proof is built on the 
 supposition that God is a Being of all possible per- 
 fections : we reply. It goes on the supposition, that 
 we are to conceive of him in the most honourable 
 manner that we can ; and it seems enough, if we 
 can prove that it is dishonourable to the Deity to 
 suppose a plurality. Locke's Lett. p. 424 — 428. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 To the argument gr. 6. it is objected, 
 
 1. That we cannot see how far the unity of design 
 is preserved, unless we knew the whole system. 
 
 2. That so far as we can judge by the specimen 
 
 * T)iongii Abernctliy's Sermons arc referred to, it may not he amiss 
 to remark, that he has stated thr: proof of the Unity of (lod, arising? from 
 tlie Unity of Uesifjn in the \Vr)rks of Nature, with more force and 
 advantage tliau lias been done by ahnost any other writer. Mr. Low. 
 man, in the tract f<»rmerly mentioned, lias endeavoured to produce a 
 strict demonstration of the Unity, as well as the being, of a God, from 
 the argument a priori. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 we linve, it scorns llial uiiitj of design is not pre- 
 served, since tlierc is a mixture ol' fjood and evil ; 
 w hich makes it probable that there must be at least 
 two self-existent beings, the one evil, and the other 
 good. 
 
 To the (irst of these we answer. That we must 
 judge by analogy in tliis respect as in many others: 
 and particularly, that the unity of the Divine Being 
 stands thus far on the same footing with his wis- 
 dom, which can only be proved from a comprehen- 
 sive view of the whole scheme, and must be left an 
 uncertain thing by all created understandings, if 
 the reasoning in the objection be admitted. As to 
 the second, it will be more fully answered below ; 
 for the jircscnt it may be sufHcicnt to observe, that 
 the quantity of good l)eing so much greater than of 
 evil, there is no reason to believe two equal beings, 
 one entirely benevolent, the other entirely malevo- 
 lent; which yet must be the hypothesis, if the phe- 
 nomena referred to could grow into an objection 
 against the proposition. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 4. 
 
 Mr. Grove argues the truth of the proposition, 
 from our having uo revelation of more deities than 
 one ; whereas if there were more, every one of them 
 would be the reasonable object of veneration from 
 all other beings, even though no benefits were con- 
 ferred ; and consequently any one wise self-exist- 
 ent being would reveal to all liis creatures the gene- 
 ral knowledge of his associates, that they might pay 
 them all due veneration ; but we do not choose to 
 insist upon this, because it depends upon those 
 moral perfections of the Deity, which we have not 
 yet demonstrated ; and might be liable to some ob- 
 jection, even if those moral perfections were granted. 
 Grove's Post. Works, vol. iv. p. 27 — 29 ; see 
 also p. 85. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It seems not improper here to mention some other 
 arguments, which have been urged by writers of 
 considerable note, which yet appear not to carry 
 along with them equal conviction with the former. 
 
 Arff. 1. Clarke and Colliber argue from the 
 nature of self-existence, which is simple, uniform, 
 and universal ; whereas all variety must arise from 
 some external cause, be dependent on it, and pro- 
 portionable to the efficacy of it ; but to this it is ob- 
 jected, That if it were allowed that extension and 
 duration were not (as Dr. Clarke supposes) proper- 
 ties of God, (which if they are, they arc undoubtedly 
 distinct properties,) yet intelligence and volition, 
 which all allow in the Deity, may be considered as 
 various things, — how then shall we account for this 
 variety in him ? or if we say he is what the school- 
 men called purus putus Actus, what idea shall we 
 lix to those hard words ? 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 46. Collih. Inq. p. 
 20, 27 ; edit. 3. p. 30—32. 
 
 Ar;/. 2. Tillotson and Clarke both argue, that if 
 there were another self-existent being, then the 
 existence of God would not be necessary ; nay, 
 that this would introduce Atheism ; for no one of 
 the supposed number would benccessary, i. c. there 
 would be no (Jod ; for you might suppose any one 
 of them not to exist, if the other would sullice to 
 account for all the phenomena of nature. But I 
 confess this argument seems to me to arise from the 
 ambiguity of the word necessary : in one place, it 
 signifies what is hi/pothetically ncccssniy,i. e. neces- 
 sary in order to solve some apparent phenomena ; 
 in the other, it signifies underived. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 46,47, 450 — 461,463, 
 464, 466, 467, 470. Tillot. vol. 1. p. 491, 492. 
 
 A7-(/. 3. Wollaston argues, (as Mr. Locke has 
 done in the preceding references,) That if two or 
 more such beings as we have described be supposed, 
 their natures must be supposed either the same or 
 different ; if difTcrent, they must be contrary, or 
 various ; if contrary, each must destroy the opera- 
 tions of the other ; if various, one must have what 
 the other wants ; both, therefore, cannot be per- 
 fect: but if tlieir nature be perfectly the same, 
 then they would coincide, and indeed be but one, 
 though called two. But this latter branch of the 
 argument seems not to be self-evident : for aught 
 appears, they might be specifically, though not 
 identically, the same : and if it be self-evident, it 
 supersedes all the former part of the argumentation, 
 amounting indeed to nothing less than an assertion 
 that the existence of two all-perfect Beings is a con- 
 tradiction in tenns. Bel. of Nat. p. 70, 71. 
 
 All these arguments, with those mentioned in the 
 proposition, are stated and urged in 
 
 Camb. of Exist, p. 236—246. § 61, 62. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 If, upon the whole, that God, whose existence 
 and attributes have been the subject of our former 
 inquiries, were only a co-ordinate Deity, and the 
 God of our own system, he would, nevertheless, be 
 the supreme object of our reverence, gratitude, and 
 obedience. 
 
 Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 100, 101. Living 
 Temple, part. i. c. vi. § 6. vol. i. p. 326—329. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 That several of the wiser heathens, notwith- 
 standing the tales of their priests and their poets, 
 believed the existence of one Supreme Deity, ap- 
 pears from many passages in their writings : and if 
 the word GoD, wherever we find it used, were 
 always to be considered as signifying a Being of 
 all possible perfections, it would be difficult to 
 prove that there ever was such a thing as polythe- 
 ism in the heathen world. It is the opinion of the 
 learned and ingenious Dr. Warburton, that the 
 mysteries of the yreater initiation, among the hea- 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 268 
 
 thens, was the discovery of the doctrine of the 
 Divine Unity to the wiser part of the people : 
 agreeably to which he supposes, that the song- 
 ascribed to Orpheus, preserved by Clemens Alex- 
 andrinus and Eusebius, was the very h3'mn used 
 upon that occasion. That of Cleanthes (see Cml- 
 worth's Int. Syst. p. 432, 433, and West's Pindar) 
 must be allowed in the strongest sense to speak 
 this language ; and is perhaps the finest piece of 
 pure and unadulterated natural religion to be 
 found in the whole heathen world.* 
 
 Warb. Div. Leg. vol. 1. I. ii. § 4. p. 131—160. 
 edit. 1. Tillard's Reply to Warb. c. iv. p. 
 248—272. Ab. Taylor of Faith, note, p. 
 12 — 17. Sykcs's Connect, c. xiv. p. 364 — 
 383. press. 364, 365. Cud. Int. Syst. c. iv. § 
 10-^1. pras. § 19—28. p. 184—186. Lact. 
 Inst. 1. i. § 5. 
 
 LECTURE XLVl. 
 
 AXIOM XI. 
 
 *' Our idea of space is a simple idea, which we get 
 by observing the distance of one body from another. 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xiii. § 2 — 4. Collih. Inq. 
 p. 213 ; edit. 3. p. 253, 257. 
 
 DEFINITION XXXV. 
 The PL.4CE of a body, is its situation with respect 
 to some other body, with which it is compared. 
 
 Watts's Ontology, p. 380. edit. 3. 
 
 COROLLAKY 1. 
 
 According to the different surrounding bodies 
 brought into comparison, any body under consider- 
 ation, may be said to continue in the same place, 
 or be removed from it. 
 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xiii. § 7 — 9. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 The universe has no place. Locke, ib. § 10. 
 
 PROPOSITION XL. 
 
 Space is a mere abstract idea ; and does not 
 signify any thing which has a real and positive 
 existence without us. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Space is either something real and existing 
 without us, or a mere abstract idea. 
 
 2. If space be something really existing without 
 us, it is either a mode or a substance. 
 
 3. If space be a mode, it must be a mode of some 
 substance, and this substance must be co-extended 
 
 * Dr. VVarhurlon's opinion is disputed by Dr. John Leland, in his 
 great work on the Christian Revelation, vol. i, cliap. 8, !).— For the 
 senlimenti of tlie several scots of the ancient philowiphcrs coiicerninK 
 the IVity, reroiirse may he had to lirueker and Enfield. An arcount 
 of ditlercnt Ireati.sps of Meiners relative to the same Bubiect, may be 
 .seen in the Montlily Review, vol. liii. p. 176. vol. liv. p. 4N.5. vol Iv 
 p. 4G9 , and in Maty's Review, vol. vi. p. 378—390, 428—437 
 
 with space ; and the great question will be, how 
 space differs from the substance whose mode it is 
 said to be, or how that can be said to be a mode 
 which, if it exists at all, exists necessarily, and is 
 so far from depending upon any support, that it is 
 itself the support of accidents ; such as length, 
 breadth, capacity, &c. 
 
 3. 4. Space is not a mode. 
 
 5. If space be a substance, it must be God ; for 
 those who assert its reality maintain (as they needs 
 must do) that it is self-existent, infinite, and im- 
 mutable ; and we have already proved {Prop. 39.) 
 God to be the only self-existent, infinite, and im- 
 mutable Being. 
 
 6. Space cannot be God, since mere space has 
 neither wisdom nor power ; and we have already 
 proved God to be both omniscient and omnipotent. 
 Prop. 31. 33. 
 
 6, 6. 7. Space is not a substance. 
 1, 2, 4, 7. 8. Space is a mere abstract idea, and 
 does not signify any thing real and positive existing 
 without us. Q. E. D. 
 
 Locke's Essi I. ii. c. xiii. § 17, 18. Collib. Inq. 
 p. 218 ; edit. 3. p. 261—263. Clarke at 
 Boyle's Lect. p. 39, 40. Watts's Ess. No. 1. 
 2—5. p. 3—18. § 7. p. 23—25. Rel. of Nat. 
 p. 74, 75. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 By what operation of the mind Dr. Waterland 
 apprehends the idea of space to be formed ; and 
 what he thinks the foundation of our mistaking it 
 for something real, see in 
 
 Waterland ap. Law's Inq. p. 14 — 16. Jacks. 
 Exist, p. 75, 76. Law, ib. p. 26, 27, 30—^3. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 To the proposition it is objected, That space is a 
 simple idea, and therefore must have an objective 
 reality. 
 
 To this some have ans-vcred, by denying that 
 the idea of space is simple ; since we necessarily 
 conceive of it as having partes extra partes ; 
 but it is more ju.stly replied, that bare 7»'H'«<(o« is 
 sufficient to suggest positive ideas, as darkness and 
 silence, though they have nothing of an objective 
 reality. 
 
 Jacks, on Exist, and Unity, p. 63 — 69. Law's 
 Inq. p. 33, 34. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is said that space forces its actual cxi.stencc 
 upon us. 
 
 Ans. If its idea forces itself upon us, it is only 
 as mere emptiness ; nor can we certainly argue tlie 
 real existence of a thing, merely from our not being 
 able to avoid the idea of it, or to suppose it not 
 to be. 
 
 Jackson, ib. p. 69 — 73. Law, ib. p. 44 — 46, and 
 p. 8—12. 
 
264 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is further objected, That nothing has no pro- 
 perties ; whereas wc talk of the properties of space, 
 and settle its dimensions as well as those of body. 
 
 We reply, (as above, Sc/iol. 2.) That we sometimes 
 talk of mere abstract ideas, as if they were real 
 beings ; and thounii a shadow be only a privation 
 of li}?ht, yet v(e often speak of it as a positive tliinj?. 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 16, 17. Watts's Ess. 
 1. i. ^ 8. p. 23—28. and § 10. p. 31—39. 
 Jacks, ib. p. 77 — 81. Law's Inq. p. 48 — 50. 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is further argued. That space is necessarily in- 
 finite, and therefore real. 
 
 Ans. Tills takes the question for granted ; for 
 this infinity supposes its reality ; else, wherever 
 body is, space is excluded : nor do we allow that 
 our idea of space is infinite, though it may be ever 
 growing : the same argument would prove number 
 to be infinite ; which seems a great absurdity at 
 first view. 
 
 Jacks, ib. p. 81 — 88. Law's Inq. p. 54 — 65. 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 If space were not real, it is said there could be 
 no motion, because no space to move in. 
 
 Ans. A body naight move on to infinity ; for 
 there would be nothing to stop it ; and since mo- 
 tion is only a change of place, i. e. in the situation 
 of bodies with respect to each other, {Def. 35.) there 
 needs no such medium through which the change 
 should be made. 
 
 Jacks, ib. p. 88— G2. Law, ib. p. 65—88. 
 
 To this Mr. Jackson answers, That according to 
 this account of motion, God could not move the 
 whole material creation in a straight line. To 
 which Mr. Law replies, with Leibnitz, That this 
 would not be real motion, since it is neither going 
 to, nor from, any thing, but is still in the centre of 
 infinite space. If it be said it relates to the various 
 parts of real space, the body going from one point 
 of it to another, — it is answered. That this is evi- 
 dently taking the whole question for granted ; and 
 that a motion in a mere void is as conceivable as a 
 motion in a void space, supposed ever so real. 
 After all, the whole seems to amount to little more 
 than a controversy about the definition of motion. 
 Jackson, ib. p. 93 — 95. Law, ib. p. 68—70. 
 Clarke and Leibnitz, p. 57. § 5. p. 79. § 4. 
 p. 99. \ 13. p. 133. § 13. p. 307. § 52, 53. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 It is further objected. That supposing two bodies 
 a yard asunder, and all intervening bodies annihi- 
 lated, if space be nothing, they would be contiguous, 
 since in that case there would be nothing between 
 them. 
 
 Ans. To be contiguous, and to have nothing be- 
 tween them, are not synonymous terms. To be 
 
 contiguous signifies to touch one another ; which is 
 not a necessary consequence of their having nothing 
 between them. 
 
 Watts's Ess. No. 1. § 11. p. 39 — 43. Jacks, ib. 
 p. 92. Law, ib. p. 50—53. 
 
 COROLLAUY. 
 
 It is matter of humiliation, to think that there 
 should be such weakness and darkness in the mind 
 of man, that some of the greatest geniuses should 
 dispute whether space be God, or whether it be 
 nothing. 
 
 Watts, ib. No. 1. § 6. p. 20—23. Rams. Phil. 
 Princ. Prop. 24. Sehol. 2. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 It seems that time is an abstract idea, as well as 
 space : having gotten the idea of it from some 
 things in a constant succession, we conceive it to 
 flow uniformly on, and to take in all existences; 
 thus it becomes a kind of common receptacle, as 
 well as space : but many of the same arguments 
 brought for and against the reality of space, may 
 also be applied to that of time. Vid. Ax. 6, 7. 
 Def. 17. 
 
 Law'slnq. p. 79, 80. Jacks, ib. p. 76. Watts's 
 Ontology, eh. xii. on Time, and ch. iv. On. 
 Duration. Soame Jenyns's Disquisitions, 
 Dissertation 4. 
 
 LECTURE XLVII. 
 
 AXIOM XII. 
 
 It is impossible for two bodies to be in the same 
 place at the same time. Vid. Def. 3. 
 
 PROPOSITION XLI. 
 
 God is incorporeal or immaterial. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 23. 1. Materiality has already been proved 
 incompatible with self-existence, therefore God, 
 being self-existent, must be incorporeal. 
 
 Prop. 32. Ax. 12. 2. If God were corporeal, he 
 could not be present in any part of the world where 
 body is : yet we have proved his presence to be con- 
 tinually necessary for the support and motion of 
 body. 
 
 1, 2. 3. God is incorporeal. Q. E. D. 
 
 Clarke's Serm. vol. i. p. 98. 8vo. Taylor of 
 Deism, p. 259, 260. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 God is invisible. Abern. Serm. vol. i. No. 4. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The chief objection which has been urged against 
 the proposition is. That unless God were corporeal, 
 we could not imagine thathe should produce body, — 
 since nothing can give what it has not. It is an- 
 swered, That we grant nothing can produce an effect 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 265 
 
 more excellent than itself (^.r. 10.) ; but to be cor- 
 poreal is not a greater excellency and perfection 
 than to be incorporeal, but rather the contrary ; nor 
 would our conceptions of God's producing matter 
 be at all helped by conceiving of him as material, 
 unless that production were only making some al- 
 teration in the form and situation of some parts of 
 himself, which is far from being the idea of creation ; 
 and indeed, on the whole, creation is a thing of 
 which we can form no distinct idea, whether we 
 suppose the Creator, on the one hand, or the crea- 
 ture on the other, corporeal or incorporeal. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Some who allow the immateriality of the Divine 
 Being contend, that though it is impossible one 
 body should penetrate another, yet it is not im- 
 possible that an immaterial Being should penetrate 
 body, for their natures will still be distinct ; and 
 the pre-eminence of the Divine Nature above all 
 corporeal or derived natures is such, that there is 
 not an equal reality in both, as there is in two par- 
 ticles of matter, which hinder them from coming 
 into the same place. 
 
 Arts. Though we easily perceive what it is for a 
 subtil fluid to penetrate a body rarer than itself, v.r/. 
 for water to fill the pores of a sponge, yet this does 
 not help our ideas, when we apply penetration to an 
 incorporeal substance ; and it seems altogether as 
 reasonable to suppose that an immaterial being 
 moves bodies by contact, as that it does in a proper 
 sense penetrate them. If that penetration mean no 
 more, than that God can act in and upon every par- 
 ticle of matter where or however situated, this will 
 be readily granted ; but this seems not to be what is 
 contended for by Mr. Collibcr. On the whole, con- 
 sidering the immateriality of God, if any thing be 
 asserted concerning his omnipresence, beyond what 
 is expressed, Def. 32. it is to us mysterious and in- 
 comprehensible. 
 
 Collib. Inq. p. 218—221 ; edit. 3. p. 263—265. 
 Watts's Ont. c. xii. p. 377 — 379. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 3. 
 
 Notwithstanding what has been asserted in the 
 former corollary, it may be allowed possible for 
 God to manifest himself to Iiis creatures, by present- 
 ing some material phenomenon to their senses, and 
 thereby communicating ideas to them : yet in this 
 case, it is only in a secondary and less proper sense 
 that we may be said to see God, or hear his voice. 
 
 Burnet on Art. p. 25. 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Some who have maintained that God is so pre- 
 .sent as actually to fill space, have differed in ex- 
 plaining the extent of that presence. Sir Isaac 
 Newton and Dr. Clarke argue, that infinite space is 
 possessed by him ; but Collibcr denies it : and 
 though he maintains that the Divine Being pene- 
 
 trates all space, yet, as he denies the infinity of real 
 space, he also denies the infinite extension of the 
 Divine Being, and by a parity of reason, the infinity 
 of the other properties of his nature : and as many of 
 his thoughts are uncommon, it will not be amiss to 
 subjoin some account of the arguments on both 
 sides.* 
 
 Newton's Princ. p. 483. Collib. Inq. \>. 141, 
 142; edit. 3. p. 170, 171. 3Irs. Cockburne's 
 Works, vol. i. p. 400 — 402. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It appears, by the fore-mentioned references to 
 Collibcr, that he denies God to be infinite, in our 
 sense of infinity ; for to have no bounds, is to be in 
 its own nature incapable of end, which is the ex- 
 plication he gives of positive and absolute infinity. 
 (Vid. Def. 28.) How far he is consistent with him- 
 self in denying this, while he grants what he calls 
 a negative infinity, may be afterwards considered. 
 It is, however, apparent, that if he keeps to his own 
 idea, in denying the infinity of God, he in eflfect 
 asserts that there are certain bounds, beyond which 
 the extension, power, knowledge, &c. of the Divine 
 Being do not exist : and indeed in his late treatise, 
 which he calls The Knou-ledge of God, he very evi- 
 dently avows it, when he confesses that the Deity 
 must have some figure ; and intimates it may pro- 
 bably be spherical. 
 
 Collib. Knowledge of God, p. 22—24. 
 
 LECTURE XLVIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XLII. 
 To propose and examine some of the most con- 
 siderable arguments, brought to prove the absolute 
 infinity of the Divine Being. 
 
 Watts's Ontology, chap. xvii. 
 LEMMA. 
 
 The solution will consist of two parts : in the first, 
 we shall produce the arguments brought to prove 
 that something is actually infinite: and in the 
 second, shall consider the arguments to prove that 
 infinity belongs to the Divine Being. 
 
 SOLUTION. PART 1. 
 
 Arguments to prove that something is actually 
 infinite. 
 
 Arg. 1. Some have argued from the nature of 
 
 * "Colliber," says Or. Savage, in a note, " in liis Denial of God's 
 Immensity, is not new. It was denied by Sociniis and his followers, 
 (sec Sorini Opera, torn. i. p. 6SS.) and by Vaortus, tlinuKh not a Soci- 
 nian. Compare Turretini Instilutioncs, locus iii. (picst. 8, 9. vol. i. p. 
 213, 2'il. Geneva edition. Colliber seems to want clear notions of his 
 subject, and was by no means a close judicious writer, nor deservinj^of 
 so niuiii attention as our author has paid him." The fact is, that 
 when Dr. Doddridge drew up his Lectures, Colliher's Inquiry had ex- 
 cited considerable notice, as is a|>parent from its passing through three 
 edilions. The book is now nearly sunk into oblivion. It was formerly 
 read by the present editor, who, in his opinion concerning it, entirely 
 agrees witli Dr. Savage. 
 
2Gf> 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 space, wliich (siipposinpr it to bo, as Mr. Collibcr 
 does, a rvi\\ tliinu;) is certainly infinite, and cannot 
 be bounded so mueli as in tlioiight. Colliber {;rants 
 we can liave no idea of tlie end of it ; yet maintains 
 there may be an end of universal space, as we know 
 there is of particular: and if it be iiskcd, What 
 bounds it .' he answers, Not/iinr/ ; but will not allow 
 that it is therefore inlinite : but it is plain lie con- 
 ceives of space only as the interstice betw ixt bodies ; 
 and liow this is more real than the void which lies 
 on tlic other side tlie remotest body, I cannot ima- 
 gine ; but if Prop. 40. be true, this can be no solid 
 argument ; for nothing would be more absurd than 
 to ascribe infinity to nothing, or to a mere abstract 
 idea. 
 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xvii. § 4, 21. Collih. Inq. 
 p. Io0~153; edit. .'}. p. ISo— 193. 
 
 Arg. 2. It is pleaded that the Divine Being is 
 allowed to be eternal : now eternity, i. e. infinite 
 duration, is rs incomprehensible as any other kind 
 of intinity. 
 
 Colliber answers. Eternity is not and cannot be 
 an infinite duration, being limited on the one side 
 by the present moment ; and he adds, that duration 
 does not belong to God. Yet still, if w^c consider 
 liim as a Bein^ without a beo;inning, (which surely 
 we must confess him or something to be,) I see not 
 how it is possible to separate duration from our idea 
 of him: and if we cannot, surely here is an infinite 
 in one respect; indeed in that respect in which it is 
 most ditlicult to conceive of it. 
 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xvii. § 5, 20. Collib. Inq. 
 p. 149, 150, 163, 154 ; edit. 3. p. 180—185. 
 
 Arg. 3. Another argument is taken from the 
 infinite divisibility of matter, since it is certain 
 division can never annihilate. 
 
 This Air. Colliber is obliged to admit ; but he 
 pleads, that this inlinite divisibility does not imply 
 an infinite number of parts in every particle of mat- 
 ter, but rather the contrary ; for else the subject 
 must be of an infinite bulk. Some have replied, 
 these parts may be infinitely small ; but he denies 
 that any thing can be so ; and if they were, matter 
 could not be infinitely divisible. If it be said that 
 this infinite divisibility proves that there is an 
 infinite distance between the smallest beings and 
 nothing, — he says that creation proves the contrary. 
 Nevertheless, it may be answered, that we maintain 
 the Creator to be omnipotent, and that an almighty 
 power may overcome that infinite distance ; or 
 rather, that when we talk of an infinite distance in 
 this sense, we only mean a very great distance ; so 
 that nothing certain can be concluded from this 
 argument. 
 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. e. xvii. ^ 12. Collib. Inquiry, 
 p. IGl— 165 ; edit. 3. p. 194—200. 
 
 Arg. 4. Others have pleaded that no limits can 
 
 be set by our thoughts to the number and extent of 
 possibilities, but more may be conceived to be pro- 
 duced, and still more without bounds ; there must, 
 therefore, be an actual infinity, in proportion to this 
 possible one. 
 
 Colliber answers, This oidy proves tliat our ima- 
 ginations may be peri)etually going on in their 
 operations ; but that there is no reasoning from 
 itnagination to fact, without confounding possibili- 
 ties and realities : and, indeed, it must be confessed, 
 that all the utmost cll'orts of imagination will always 
 be finite, though they be ever growing. 
 
 Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 03, 64, 67. Liv. Temp. 
 
 part. i. c. iv. § 4. Collib. Inq. p. 176—179 ; 
 
 edit. 3. p. 213—216. 
 
 LECTURE XLIX. 
 
 SOLUTION. PART 2. 
 
 Arguments to prove the Infinity of the Divine 
 Being. 
 
 Arg. 1. Some have argued, that if God be limit- 
 ed, it must either be by himself, or by anotlier ; but 
 no wise being would abridge himself, — and there 
 could be no other being to limit God. 
 
 Colliber answers, That no cause can bestow ab- 
 solute infinity upon its effect ; and therefore there 
 needs no cause of the finitcness of any created, — 
 why then of an uncreated being? And further, the 
 argument supposes it to be matter of choice with 
 God, whether he would be finite or infinite, which it 
 is unreasonable to suppose ; and would indeed 
 imply (what Plato and Cartesius are said to have 
 maintained) that the Deity produced himself by a 
 proper causality ; whereas not to abridge itself, 
 can never make any being infinite. Thus it maybe 
 said, that as God did not make himself wise, nor 
 did another being make him wise, yet he is wise ; 
 so he may not limit himself, nor be limited by an- 
 other, and yet he may be limited. If in answer to 
 this it be urged, That as he is wise, so he is also un- 
 limited by the necessity of his nature, which is all 
 that can be replied, this argument thus founded will 
 coincide with the next. 
 
 Scott's Christian Life, vol. ii. p. 193, 194. or, 
 apud Opera, vol. i. p. 263. Collib. Inquiry, 
 p. 145—147; edit. 3. p. 175—178. 
 
 A7-g. 2. Others plead that infinity follows from 
 self-existence ; for a necessity that is not univer- 
 sal must depend on some external cause, (Vid. Def. 
 28. Cor.) which a self-existent being does not. — To 
 this Mr. Colliber replies, 
 
 1. That though necessary existence has no rela- 
 tion either to place or limit, any more tlian to 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 267 
 
 variety, yet as there is some sort of variety in God, 
 (Prop. 39. Schol. 2.) so there may be limits. 
 
 2. That to be finite is not properly the effect of 
 any cause, and therefore may consist with necessary 
 existence. 
 
 That finiteness is in itself necessary; because 
 every bein^ has a complete and positive nature, 
 ■whereas our idea of infinite is negative. 
 
 4. That how absolute soever the necessity of a 
 supposed infinite being can be, that of a finite may 
 be equally so. He adds, We must not argue too 
 much from abstract ideas to things : that may be 
 necessary in its own nature, which we may conceive 
 as not existing, v. g. perfect w isdom ; and that may 
 not be necessary in its own nature, which we may 
 not be able to conceive not to exist, v. g. space. 
 
 It seems that the third of these answers is incon- 
 sistent with the first ; that any being should be the 
 less complete, and the less positive, because it is 
 infinite, I own I cannot conceive ; though our idea 
 of infinite should be allowed to be a negative idea. 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 43. Collib. Inquiry, 
 p. 168—174 ; edit. 3. p. 203—211. Berry- 
 street Sermons, vol. i. p. 107. second edit. 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xvii. § 12 — 14. 
 
 Arg. 3. It is urged that creation is so great an 
 act of power, that we can imagine nothing impossi- 
 ble to that Being who has performed it, but must 
 therefore ascribe to him infinite power. 
 
 CoUiber answers, The distance between being 
 and not being may be said to be finite, because it 
 has been passed over ; and is indeed no other than 
 between thinking and not thinking, moving and 
 not moving : though they are irreconcilable with 
 each other, there may be a possibility of passing 
 from one to the other, without an infinite degree of 
 power. Yet, he adds, nothing on this side a contra- 
 diction can be imagined less possible than a pro- 
 duction from nothing, and therefore allows a proper 
 omnipotence in God, which he takes to be infinite 
 power : so that this argument seems to be given up. 
 Prop. 31. Sc/iol. 4. 
 
 Collib. Inq. p. 147—149 ; edit. 3. p. 178—180. 
 
 Arg. 4. It is more honourable to the Divine 
 Being to conceive of him as infinite than finite. 
 
 To this Colliber answers, by endeavouring to 
 prove, That to conceive of him as infinite, leads us 
 into many absurd and di.shonourable notions of him, 
 ■which will be surveyed in the next proposition : yet 
 he is forced after all to acknowledge a negative in- 
 finity, i. e. that there is nothing too great for the 
 power of God ; that nothing which can be the object 
 of knowledge is unknown to him, and that no l)cing 
 can bound God, or even human imagination itself. 
 Vid. Prop. 41. Seltol. 5. 
 
 Collib. Inr/. p. 180— -183 ; edit. 3. p. 217—221. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 I have not here mentioned the argument taken 
 from the supposed innate idea of infinity, nor from 
 the immensity of matter ; both which appear to me 
 so evidently inconclusive, as not to deserve so large 
 a survey as the former. 
 
 Collib. Inq. p. 144, 14.3, 154—161 ; edit. 3. p. 
 174, 175, 200—203. Camb. sur 1' Exist, p. 
 191—197, § 50, 51. Boyce's Translation, p. 
 135-137. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The argument from the fulness of being supposed 
 in God, if it imports any thing at all, must coincide 
 with some of the former arguments, especially the 
 fourth. 
 
 Collib. ib. p. 175, 176 ; edit. 3. p. 212, 213. 
 Howe's Liv. Temp, part i. c. iv. § 2. Scott's 
 Christian Life, vol. ii. p. 344, 345 ; Works, 
 vol. i. p. 320. 
 
 LECTURE L. 
 
 PROPOSITION XLIII. 
 
 To review and consider the arguments which Mr. 
 Colliber has urged against the Divine Infinity, and 
 by which he has endeavoured to prove it a perni- 
 cious doctrine. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 He asserts it to be attended with pernicious con- 
 sequences, whether we consider the Deity in him- 
 self, or with respect to us. 
 
 PART 1. 
 
 With respect to the Deity itself, he maintains 
 that it leads us into the following absurdities : — 
 
 1. To assert his inextension ; for all extension 
 naturally implies bounds, therefore the Platonists, 
 asserting the infinity of God, said he was a Mathe- 
 matical Point, thereby making him infinitely less 
 than the least grain of sand ; yet at the same time, 
 they asserted him to be all in all, and all in every 
 part ; than which nothing can be more absurd. 
 
 To this it is answered, 1. That many maintain 
 extension dors not imply limits. 
 
 2. That a mathematical point being only an ab- 
 stract idea, God cannot properly be represented 
 by it. 
 
 3. That when it is said he is all in all, and all in 
 every part, nothing more may be meant than this, 
 that his almighty power can operate in every jilace, 
 and is the support of all other beings ; which Col- 
 liber himself allows. 
 
 But he replies. If we do not allow this way of 
 speaking, we must go into the s(!lieine of the Nulli- 
 bists, and alTirin that (Jod is nowltcrc ; — ami what if 
 it should be asserted, that it is not his property to he 
 
268 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES. 
 
 incsciil ill ;\iiy place bv a diffusive presence ? I( 
 will he siiiil tliat tlicieroie lie is not at all ; but this 
 pretended axiouj will ie(|uire proof. ^ — Prop. 11. 
 Schol. 2. 
 
 Collih. Iiiq. p. KS4— 187 ; edit. 3. p. 2'22— 229. 
 
 2. From the doctrine of Cod's infinity arises that 
 of absolute simplicilif ; else each attribute would be 
 infinite, whereas it is said there can be but one in- 
 finite. 
 
 Ans. This objection arises from an absurd con- 
 foundinjj the idea of attribute with that of beinj?. — 
 Def. 12. Cor. 1. 
 
 Collib. ih. p. 190, 191 ; edit. 3. p. 229—231. 
 
 3. From infinity is inferred absolute omnipotence, 
 M'liich includes a power of workinn; contradictions ; 
 but it is sufficient to answer, that this is not properly 
 a power, as has been observed above. — Prop. 31. 
 Sch. 4. Collih. ih. p. 192 ; edit. 3. p. 231, 2.32. 
 
 4. From infinity follows absolute omniscience, 
 which would establish the doctrine of decrees, in- 
 consistent with liberty, and therefore with virtue. 
 
 A)is. We have endeavoured to show that the fore- 
 knowledge of God is not inconsistent with liberty. 
 —Prop. 35. Schol. 2. 
 
 Collih. ih. p. 193, 194 ; edit. 3. p. 232—235. 
 
 5. Hence some have inferred, that God not only 
 does, but is, all things. This is Spinoza's scheme, 
 who argues that an Infinite Being must comprehend 
 all particular finite beings ; but it may be replied, 
 That this argument arises from mistaking the word 
 infinite, which implies, that the being to whom it is 
 ascribed has no bounds ; now God is not at all 
 bounded by the existence of creatures, whose natures 
 are entirely different from his own ; and how, on 
 Colliber's own scheme, can God be where the crea- 
 tures are, without a confusion of his being with 
 theirs, if the foundation of Spinoza's argument, 
 even on his own principles, be just ? 
 
 Collih. ih. p. 198—200; edit. 3. p. 238—241. 
 Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 69 — 72. Living 
 Temple, part i. c. iv. § 9. vol. i. p. 216 — 223. 
 Works of the Learned, for 1738, Jan. Art. iv. 
 
 LECTURE LI. 
 
 SOLUTION. — PART SECOND. 
 
 With respect to ourselves, Mr. CoUiber asserts, 
 1. That the doctrine of the divine infinity dis- 
 
 courages our inquiries into the nature of God ; be- 
 cause we must for ever despair of attaining to the 
 knowledge of him. 
 
 Ans. On Colliber's own principles, we must ac- 
 knowledge it to be impossible perfectly to know 
 him ; nor is it any wonder that it should be so. — 
 Vid. Prop. 18. Cor. But supposing hiiu to be in- 
 fiiiile, we may know as much of him as if he were 
 finite, though more will continue unknown. 
 
 Collih. Inq. p. 200; edit. 3. p. 241—243. 
 
 2. It is said this doctrine raises prejudices against 
 his existence, because it makes it impossible to 
 conceive clearly of him. To this we may reply, 
 
 1. There can be no scheme on which there will 
 not be some difficulties ; those of Atheism will be 
 still greater than would follow from supposing an 
 infinite Deity. 
 
 Giirdon at Boyle's Lect. pass, pra-s. p. 79, 80. 
 Ahadie Verit. de la Rel. part. i. c. xvi. xvii. 
 vol. i. p. 117—132. 
 
 2. If one finite being could be supposed neces- 
 sary, why may not ant/ other ? i. e. Why may not 
 the doctrine of the finiteness of God be a shelter for 
 Atheism, in one view, as well as that of his iiifinity 
 in another ? 
 
 Collih. Inq. p. 201—203 ; edit. 3. p. 243. 
 
 SCIIOLUM 1. 
 
 Mr. Colliber seems chiefly to have opposed the 
 doctrine of the infinity of God, in order to establish 
 his scheme of denying the divine decrees and fore- 
 knowledge, which must indeed suppose him a 
 limited being. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 On the most accurate survey and examination of 
 these two last propositions, we may perhaps see 
 reason to remark, 
 
 1 . That many arguments which have been brought 
 to prove the infinity of God are inconclusive. 
 
 2. That to suppose him finite, would not free the 
 mind from all difficulties in conceiving of him, 
 especially those which are the consequences of his 
 eternity ; but would plunge us into some new 
 difficulties. 
 
 3. That though it be most honourable to the 
 Divine Being to suppose him infinite, yet if we 
 conceive of him only as superior to all other beings, 
 and possessed of perfections beyond the investiga- 
 tion of our minds, there will be a foundation laid 
 for religion and virtue, in the several branches in 
 which we shall afterwards endeavour to open it. 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 CONCERNING DR. BERKLEY'S SCHEME, THAT THERE IS 
 NO MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 In considering this scheme, we shall, 
 
 I. Propose the scheme itself, and the arguments 
 by which it is supported. 
 
 II. Examine the objections brouglit against it. 
 
 III. Consider how far our inquiries into natural 
 philosophy are alTected by it. 
 
 Sect. I. The scheme itself is not, that sensible 
 objects have no real existence ; or that all is but a 
 waking dream : he disclaims both these : his prin- 
 ciple is, that no sensible object exists vnpereeived ; 
 or more plainly, that there is no material world, and 
 that primary, as well as secondary, qualities, do only 
 exist in the mind perceiving them ; so that if all 
 minds were annihilated, all bodies would be anni- 
 hilated too ; and the difference between dreaming 
 and perceiving, is only that the latter is more active, 
 regular, and vivid than the former. 
 
 The arguments by which the Doctor supports this 
 system are these : — 
 
 1. The existence of a material world cannot be 
 demonstrated; because aa almighty power can 
 always produce such sensations without any arche- 
 type ; and it is plain in dreams he does so. 
 
 Ans. This will not prove tliat he has done it. We 
 assert not that matter is a necessary being ; but its 
 actual existence may nevertheless be proved, as 
 well as that of a created mind. 
 
 2. It is an useless encumbrance ; because a 
 Divine influence Ls necessary to produce ideas from 
 material archetypes. 
 
 Ans. The Divine power may be illustrated in 
 such a harmony ; and the actual support of bodies 
 seems an act of great power, as well as the union 
 of the soul and body, of great wisdom. 
 
 3. The supposition of it is very inconvenient, as 
 it introduces disputes about the production and 
 subsistence of bodies, tlic inlinite divisibility of 
 matter, the union of body and mind, &c. ; but it 
 may be replied. That if giving occasion to disputes 
 could disprove the thing disputed about, mc must 
 also give up the existence of spiritual and imma- 
 terial beings. 
 
 4. It implies a contradiction. Sensible objects 
 are the things we perceive by our senses ; but we 
 can perceive only our own ideas and sensations : 
 
 now it is plainly repugnant, that any of our own 
 sensations should exist unperceived, and therefore 
 that sensible objects should so exist. 
 
 Ans. This is plainly taking the question for 
 granted ; yet he triumphs greatly in this argument, 
 and says. The bare possibility of the existence of 
 any extended movable substance, or in general 
 any idea, or any thing like an idea, but in a think- 
 ing mind, is absurd ; but this triumph is extremely 
 ill-grounded, because if it were granted him that 
 sensible objects are in fact only the things which 
 our senses immediately perceive, i. e. that they are 
 our own ideas, (which is, as we observed above, 
 begging the question,) it will not follow from thence 
 that it is impossible there should be, or should 
 have been, any external archetypes of them. 
 
 Berkley's Ptinc, § 22. 
 
 5. The various appearances of the same object 
 to different persons at the same time, prove that it 
 exists only in a perceiving mind ; else the same 
 thing must have difl'erent magnitudes, colours, ^c. 
 
 Ans. The various circumstances in which it is, 
 seems to account for its different appearance ; and 
 if the object were material, it must be so. 
 
 fi. The best philosophers have granted it as to 
 secondary qualities ; but the case is the same as to 
 primary. — This is denied. 
 
 Sect. II. The objections against it are these : — 
 
 1. To deny the possibility of matter, is plainly 
 limiting the power of God. . 
 
 2. Tliis hypothesis, which supposes us under a 
 continual deception, reflects upon the Divine vera- 
 city. — He answers. The same objection will lie 
 against supposing the earth to move about the sun. 
 
 3. The senses give us such an evidence, that if 
 it is possible they may be true notices of what 
 pa,sscs without us, we must certainly believe they 
 are so. 
 
 4. Our ideas can have no parts ; but the objects 
 of them have parts : therefore the objects are some- 
 thing different from the ideas themselves. 
 
 .'j. Every thing real is banished out of the world. 
 — This Berkley expressly denies. 
 
 fi. Things on this supposition are continually 
 annihilated and created anew. He answers, The 
 
 I- 
 
270 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 schoolmen allow a conliiuial rroation ; hul tlial is a 
 weak rejilv. If Adam and Kvc botli slept, the sun 
 for that time was annihilated: if it be said, It existed 
 in the Divine Mind, — it may be answered. So it 
 did from all eternity, and at that rate all crea- 
 tures must be eternal. 
 
 7. It makes all the apparatus of nature, in the 
 organization of plants and animals, vain. 
 
 tIh.v. Not vainer than upon the supposition of a 
 continued Divine concurrence, asserted Prop. 32. ; 
 they arc rules which God has laid down, according 
 to which he directs his own operations. 
 
 8. This doctrine destroys all the evidence of the 
 existence of other created spirits ; some also add, 
 of the Divine Existence ; but I think not : yet it 
 certainly weakens some proofs of it, especially that 
 taken from the vi.t inertia of matter. 
 
 Sf.ct. III. How far our inquiries into natural 
 philosophy are affected by it. 
 
 1 . It cuts olT a great part of our present inquiries. 
 
 2. In a strict sense, it would change a great part 
 of our language. 
 
 3. Nevertheless, it leaves room for the observa- 
 
 tion of llie phenomena of nature, and tlie connexion 
 between causes and effects, in many instances. On 
 the whole, it is a scheme destitute of proof. The 
 most we can assert is, that it is possible ; and we 
 are led every moment, whether we will or no, into 
 an apprehension of the contrary. If wc believe it 
 to be true, wc ought to act in every instance, and 
 on every occasion, just as if it were false. Wc 
 conclude with observing. That as some have denied 
 all material, and others all immaterial, substances, 
 each asserting one or the other onlji to be real, we 
 may reasonably believe them both to be so. 
 
 Hcrkley's Princ. and Dial. pass. Collier's 
 
 Immat. World. J3a.iHer on the Soul, vol. ii. 
 
 § 2. 8vo. Lord Kaims's Ess. on the Princ. 
 
 of Morality and Nat. Rel. part ii. Ess. iii. 
 
 p. 237—239.* 
 
 * A coutrovcrsy conrcrning Berkley's hypotliesis was carried on 
 some years since in the (icntleman's Maf^azine. Tlie subject has lilte- 
 wise excited tlie particular attention and confutation of Dr. Keid and 
 Dr. Heattie. — See Dr. Keid's Ii)(iuiry into the Human Mind. — Sec also 
 his Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, Essay ii. cli. 10, II, 
 p. IM— 18.5 ; aud Bcattie on the Immutability of Truth, part ii. ch. ii. 
 5 2. p. 163-191. 4to edit. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 OF THE NATURE OF MORAL VIRTUE IN GENERAL, AND THE 
 MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD. 
 
 OF THE SEVERAL BRANCHES OF VIRTUE, AND THE 
 NATURE OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 LECTURE LII. 
 
 AXIOM XIII. 
 
 From the essences of things (the ideas of which 
 immutably exist in the Divine Mind) arise certain 
 DIFFERENCES ; and from the circumstances in whicli 
 they arc placed, certain relations, inseparable 
 from those essences or circumstances. 
 
 AXIOM XIV. 
 
 The actions of an intelligent being may agree or 
 disagree with the nature, circumstances, and relations 
 of things ; or, in other words, they may with respect 
 to them be fit or i nfit: v. g. Evil is as unfit 
 to be returned for good, as a cubical case is unfit 
 exactly to contain a globe. 
 
 DEFINITION XXXVI. 
 
 The agreement of the actions of any intelligent 
 
 being with the nature, circumstances, and relation 
 of things, is called the moral fitness, or the virtue 
 of that action ; the disagreement is therefore the 
 
 MORAL UNFITNESS, or VICE. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 There is really and necessarily a moral fitness in 
 some actions, and a moral unfitness in others. Vid. 
 Ax. 14. 
 
 Wishart's Reform. Serm. p. 5, G. Clarke at 
 Boyle's Lect. p. 174—179, 181. Letters to 
 Dr. Clarke, p. 5—11. Chand. Ref. Serm. 
 p. ,5 — 7, 14 — 19. Benson's Sermon, No. ii. 
 p. 40 — 45. Dr. Adams's Sermon on the 
 Nature and Obligation of Virtue, p. 3 — 6.* 
 
 * For a most el.iboratc and ample vindication of the doctrine of Moral 
 Fitnesses and Unfitnesses, see Dr. Price's Review of the principal tlues- 
 tionsand Difticulties in Morals. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 271 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 To this some have objected the various opinions 
 of learned men, and the difference in the laws of 
 various nations concerning; right and wrong. 
 
 We answer. That it does indeed from hence fol- 
 low, that all the moral fitnesses of things are not 
 self-evident ; and we readily allow, that in some 
 cases it may be very difficult to pronounce concern- 
 ing them; and in others, the judgments of men 
 may be so prejudiced by corrupt affections as to err, 
 though the cases themselves are very clear. Never- 
 theless, there are some things so plain, that they 
 •were never denied to be more fit than their oppo- 
 sites : nor was it ever commanded or allowed by 
 any known law, that every man might plunder or 
 murder his fellow-citizens as he pleased ; that no 
 faith should be kept, or compacts performed, &c. 
 Locke's Ess. lib. i. c. iii. § 9 — 12. Clarke at 
 Boyle's Led. p. 181 — 183. Passeran's Phil. 
 Inq. pass.'^ 
 
 AXIOM XV. 
 
 The actions of an intelligent being appear to 
 have a beauty or excellency, when they are 
 morally fit; and a turpitude and deformity, when 
 they are morally unfit. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 This answers the question, " What are moral fit- 
 nesses fit for ?" Their mutual congruity and har- 
 mony is as fit to gain the approbation of an intelli- 
 gent mind, as music to please an ear that is rightly 
 formed. 
 
 Grove's Wisd. of God, p. 29 ; vol. iv. of his 
 Works, p. 44. Wishart's Ref. Serm. p. 11 — 
 15. Chatid. Ref. Serm. p. 27—31. Bens. 
 Serm. No. ii. p. 48 — ^50. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The apprehension of that beauty or deformity 
 which arises in the mind by a kind of natural 
 instinct, previously to any reasoning upon the re- 
 moter consequences of actions, has been with great 
 propriety called by many elegant writers, the Moral 
 Sense ; but what is peculiar in some of their notions 
 will be afterwards stated and examined. 
 
 Hutcheson on the Passover, p. 245 — 253. 
 DEFINITION XXXVII. 
 An intelligent agent is said to be oblioed in 
 REASON, to that which appears to him on an impar- 
 tial inquiry most honourable and decent ; and to be 
 OBLIGED in INTEREST, to that which ou an impar- 
 tial inquiry shall appear most conducive to his 
 happiness on the whole. 
 
 Bahjuy's Law of Truth, p. 4 — 14; in the vol. 
 of his Tracts, p. 372 — 380. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Though an obligation in reason and interest may 
 
 * This objection is particularly considered and answered in Dr 
 Beattie's Essay on the Immutability of Truth. 
 
 seem distinct, yet they are, at least in a great mea- 
 sure, if not entirely, connected ; for, on the one 
 hand, the obligations of reason, honour, and de- 
 cency cannot be broken through, without some 
 uneasiness to a mind conscious of the violation of 
 them ; and, on the other, it is a reasonable, decent, 
 and honourable thing to be influenced by a regard 
 to our own happiness. 
 
 DEFINITION XXX\1II. 
 The MORAL RECTITUDE 01 VIRTUE of any being, 
 consists in acting knowingly and designedly in a 
 manner agreeable to the moral fitnesses of things ; 
 and VICE, in acting contrary to them, when they are 
 or might have been known to him. 
 
 Balg. Inq. into the Foundation of Moral Good- 
 ness, part. i. p. 30, 31 ; vol. of Tracts, p. 67. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There is a beauty inseparable from virtue of 
 character, and a deformity from vice. — Compare 
 Ax. 15. and Def. 36. 
 
 Shaftesb. Chm: vol. ii. p. 28 — 36. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Every intelligent being, capable of discerning 
 this beauty and deformity, is in reason obliged to 
 the practice of virtue in every instance. — Compare 
 Def. 37. 
 
 Price's Rev. c. vi. Burlamaguy' s Elementa, 
 part. i. c, V. vi. ; part. ii. c. vii. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 The foundation of virtue and vice cannot depend 
 upon the mere will of any being whatsoever. — Vid. 
 Ax. 13, 14. 
 
 Letters to Dr. Clarke, p. 11 — 15. Grove of 
 Wisdom, p. 23—26, 36 — 40 ; vol. iv. of his 
 Works, c. iii. § 1, 2. f Mole's Sermon of 
 Moral Virtue, p. 21—24, 27. 
 
 LECTURE LIII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Nevertheless, as the circumstances of things vary, 
 the fitness of actions will proportionably vary ; and 
 therefore the will of a superior may make some 
 things fit, which otherwise would not be so; (v. g. a 
 general's command to a soldier to march any par- 
 ticular way, or a magistrate appointing an execu- 
 tioni' &c.) but while the same circumstances con- 
 tinue, the moral fitness of things will always be the 
 same. Mole on Moral Virtue, p. 27, 28. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 To what is said Cor. 3. some have objected, that 
 this is setting up something diflercnt from and in- 
 dependent on tlie Divine Being, to be the rule of 
 
 + The doctrine of tlie third corolljry is strongly asserted and main- 
 tained in Dr. Price's work, before referred to. 
 
•272 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 liis actions. But it is replied, That as notliin;;- ean 
 be prior to God, so iiothin<;' distinct IVoin liis nature 
 is here asserted to be a law or rule of action to him. 
 We cannot suppose the Divine Mind ever to have 
 been vvitiiout ideas : (tor then (Jod would have been 
 without knowledge, and without volitions, and con- 
 sequently without action ; all which are most 
 inconsistent m ith wliat we have before proved con- 
 ccrnini;- him :) now perfectly discx-riiinfj every idea, 
 (Prop. ;i;5.) he must have perfcclly discerned all 
 their relations, and therefore, among the rest, the 
 moral fitness of some, and unlitnessof other, actions, 
 in such and such supposed circumstances ; so that, 
 on the whole, it is no more injurious to the Divine 
 Beinjf to assert that he cannot alter his own sense 
 of some moral fitnesses, than that he cannot change 
 liis nature, or destroy his being. 
 
 Limestr. Led. vol. ii. p. 579 — 581. 
 SCHOI.ll'M 3. 
 
 Some have thought thcniselves, on the premises 
 laid down above, authorized to say. That supposing 
 God to change his mind concerning these things, 
 the things themselves would nevertheless continue 
 the same. 
 
 But it may be observed, with regard to such a 
 manner of expression, That if we consider God as 
 existing alone and prior to all creation, and by a 
 change of mind mean only a change of will, — then, 
 to say the things themselves would nevertheless 
 continue the same, is only saying that God would 
 still continue to discern what is right, though his 
 own actions were contrary to his judgment ; which 
 is a trilling proposition, as well as a blasphemous 
 hypothesis. But if the supposition be, that his ideas 
 are likewise changed, this would suppose the former 
 ideas totally destroyed, seeing there would be no 
 other mind in wliich they could exist ; and then all 
 the relations and fitnesses would be destroyed with 
 them. But if we were to consider other minds as 
 existing, and to suppose God either to change his 
 ideas, or to act contrary to rectitude, while any one 
 of his creatures retained this sense of it, it is grant- 
 ed that virtue would still be the same : but if it be 
 hereafter proved, that God is a Being of perfect 
 rectitude, (since we have already demonstrated his 
 immutability,) it will follow, that all those supi)osi- 
 tions are in efl'ect no other than that God should 
 cease to be God ; and are so unreasonable and 
 indecent, that they ought not to be made. 
 
 Letters to Dr. Clarke, p. 14, 15.* 
 SCHOLII M 4. 
 
 If it .should be hereafter proved to be tiie w ill of 
 God, that all rational creatures should prosecute 
 virtue ; and also proved, that the will of God lays 
 
 * At tl'.e time when Dr. Clarke's scheme of Eternal Fitnesses was 
 in general estimation, some writers, in llic cxtrava^arirc of their zeal 
 for it, expressed themselves in very strange and iiniustifiahle langiuije, 
 and such as the Doctor himself could by no means have approved. Tlif 
 tracts to which we refer have justly sunk into oblivion. 
 
 an obligation on his rational creatures, — then from 
 hence it will evidently appear, that no man, capable 
 of knowing God, is obliged to any thing by the 
 moral fitness of things, to which he is not also 
 obliged by the will of God. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 If it be further in(|uircd, Whether our obligations 
 arising from the fitness of things be antecedent to 
 those arising from the will of God, wc answer, — 
 
 1. If God will the universal virtue of all his 
 rational creatures, he niust will it from the first mo- 
 ment of their existence ; and taking the matter in a 
 general view, no obligation in order of time can be 
 prior to that arising from his will, nor reach further, 
 since universal virtue comprehends all moral fit- 
 nesses. 
 
 2. It must be acknowledged, that our sense of 
 the fitness of some things may be prior to our dis- 
 covery of the existence and nature of God ; and 
 that in proportion to the degree in wliich that sense 
 is more or less strong, there will be a correspondent 
 degree of obligation : nay, it is hard to say how any 
 one could know that he ought to do a thing which 
 he knew to be the will of God, unless he had some 
 previous sense of obligation in reason or interest, 
 on which such a conviction should be founded. 
 
 3. Nevertheless, as children apprehend the ideas 
 of things sooner than they learn the names of com- 
 plex moral modes, the easiest and best way of forming 
 them to a sense of virtue will be, to give tliem an 
 early sense of the being and perfections of God, 
 according to their feeble capacities of apprehending 
 them ; representing it as his command, that tliey 
 should do every thing they know to be good, and 
 forbear every thing they know to be evil. But, 
 
 4. As to the order of our conception of things, 
 when we come to examine them in riper years, if 
 the rectitude of God should hereafter be proved to 
 us on the one hand, and our obligation to obey him 
 on the other,— then when we know any thing to be 
 fit, we know it to be the will of God ; and when we 
 know it to be the will of God, we know it to be fit 
 for us to do in present circumstances : and there- 
 fore we need not be very nice in adjusting on which 
 of these things the greatest stress is to be laid ; 
 since we should then consider the will of God not 
 merely as an arbitrary thing, but as the will of a 
 wise and a righteous Being. And it is certain, that 
 whatever might be conceived as fit from other ab- 
 stract considerations, will appear yet more fit, when 
 considered as the will of such a Being : so that a 
 regard to the Divine authority, in doing a thing, 
 can never diminish the degree of virtue in an ac- 
 tion, but will always increase the sense of obliga- 
 tion to it. Wright against Mole, p. 41 — 43. 
 
 SCIIOLII M 6. 
 
 On the whole it is proper to observe, that great 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 273 
 
 care should be taken, especially in popular dis- 
 courses, that we do not make any false suppositions 
 of God's being changed from what we know him 
 immutably to be ; that we do not represent him as 
 under the restraint of something superior to him- 
 self ; nor ourselves as under greater obligations to 
 something else than we are under to God. It is 
 much more proper to say, (if the rectitude of the 
 Divine Being be proved,) that his unerring judg- 
 ment is the rule of his actions, and his will, as di- 
 rected by it, (however that will may be known,) the 
 rule of our.i ; and the foundation of moral good and 
 evil should be asserted, not to be previous to, or 
 merely consequent upon, but inseparably connected 
 with, the immutable will of God. 
 
 Wright af/ainst Mole, p. 27 — 30, 44 — 51. 
 Locke's Ess. 1. ii. c. xxviii. Wai-b. Div. 
 Leg. vol. i. p. 36 — 63. Bott's Answer to 
 Warh. p. 228, ad fin. pras. p. 232—239. 
 
 LECTURE LTV. 
 
 DEFINITION XXXIX. 
 Moral rectitude is generally called holiness, 
 when applied to God; virtue, when applied to the 
 creature. Jos. Mede's Works, p. 8, 9.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Virtue is sometimes taken, in a more limited 
 .sense, for the duties we owe to ourselves and our 
 fellow-creatures ; and ihen religion '\s put to signif-, 
 the duties we owe more immediately to God. 
 
 AXIOM XVI. 
 
 Where there is any moral tuipitude in tlie actions 
 of a rational being, it is ( catrris paribus J propor- 
 tionable to the degree in which such a being under- 
 stands the relations of things, and is free from 
 temptation to act contrary to them. 
 
 PROPOSITION XLIV. 
 God is a Being of perfect holiness, i. e. of the 
 highest moral rectitude. 
 
 DEMONSTRATIO.M. 
 
 Prop. .33. 1. His infinite understanding must 
 enable him to discern all the relations of things as 
 they really are. 
 
 Prop. 31. 2. He is almighty, and therefore has 
 nothing to fear. 
 
 Prop. 38. 3. He is perfectly happy, and there- 
 fore has nothing to hope. 
 
 2, 3. 4. He is infinitely removed from all tempt- 
 ation to act contrary to moral rectitude. 
 
 1,4. ^a. 16. .5. It would be highly dishonour- 
 able to the Divine Being to suppose him, in any 
 
 « .fr.spph Medr. ill (lie passajrc referred to, did not me.nii pliilosonlii- 
 c.illy to dctiiie the \\wn\ rectitude of God,— but to describi-, in ^'encral 
 Ins singular ffreatncss and holiness. 
 
 T 
 
 respect, to deviate from the exactest rectitude in 
 his actions. 
 
 6. Without any temptation or advantage, to 
 deviate from moral rectitude, must fill the mind of 
 the Divine Being with uneasy reflections upon it. 
 Def. 37. Schol. 
 
 6. 7. It would be inconsistent with the Divine 
 felicity. 
 
 5, 7. 8. Valet propositio. 
 
 Lett, to Dr. Clarke, p. 15—28. Scott's Christ. 
 Life, vol. ii. p. 361—301 ; Works, vol, i. 
 p. 327. Tillots. Works, vol. ii. p. 662. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It is reasonable to believe that it is the will of 
 God, that all created beings that are capable of 
 virtue, should make it the great object of pursuit. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Since God is a Being of almighty power, and has 
 the final happiness or misery of all creatures in his 
 hands, every creature capable of virtue must be 
 obliged in interest, as well as reason, to cultivate 
 the practice of it (Vid. Cor. 1.); and thus it appears 
 that virtue and self-love can only be perfectly recon- 
 ciled by religion. — See Dr. Watts's pamphlet on the 
 subject, or his Works, vol. iii. p. 715, &c. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 Whatever shall hereafter be proved a branch of 
 virtue, and does not imply some degree of weak- 
 ness and dependence in the being by whom it is to 
 be practised, is undoubtedly to be found in God. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 If we see God in fact doing any thing, we may 
 assure ourselves that it is agreeable to the reason of 
 things that it should be done, though we cannot 
 show how it agrees ; and tliough there may be some 
 objections to it, which, in consequence of the imper- 
 fection of our views, we are not able to answer. 
 
 Butl. Anal. part. i. c. vii. 
 scholium. 
 
 It may perhaps be queried, Whether this recti- 
 tude of the Divine Being be necessary ? i. e. Whe- 
 ther God can do what is morally unfit? 
 
 Ans. God has a natural power to do what is most 
 unfit for him to do, if we consider merely the action 
 itself; V. g. to put a period to the existence of the 
 most excellent creature, &c. ; but considering all 
 the circumstances of an evil action, which cannot 
 but be known to him, he cannot so oppose and con- 
 tradict himself as to do it; for it is as impossible 
 for a free agent of perfect immutable rectitude, to 
 act contrary to reason, i. e. to destroy its own recti- 
 tude, as for necessary existence to destroy its own 
 being; and if the rectitude of God were not immu- 
 table, then he might be changed from a most bene- 
 volent to a most malevolent being, — from the most 
 faithful to a most perfidious being ; which surely is 
 as inconsistent with self-existence as a change from 
 
274 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 knowlcdjjo to ipnoiancc, or from power (o wcak- 
 lU'ss. Ni->t'rtlu'li"ss, (lod may rrcely choose this or 
 tliat action, out of many others ecjually pood and (it. 
 Clarke at Boifle's Led. p. 113—119; p. 110 
 
 — 114. Cth edit. Grove on Wisrl. p. 30 — 33. 
 
 Works, vol. iv. p. 40 — 11). Moli's Found, of 
 
 Virt. p. 24. Wriyhl uijaiiist Mole, p. 8, U, 
 
 2-2— 
 
 LECTURE LV. 
 
 DEFINITION Xr.. 
 That bcini; may be said to be perfectly (ioOD or 
 BENEVOLENT, who promotes the happiness of others 
 so far as it is fit to be promoted. 
 
 PROrOSlTION XLV. 
 God is perfectly good. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. We see a great deal of happiness in the crea- 
 tion, of which God is the Autlior ; and, generally 
 speaking, those things which contain displays of 
 \rt and Wisdom, are calculated to ])romote the 
 happiness of his creatures; under which head we 
 are to rank the benevolent instincts which he has 
 implanted in the human mind. 
 
 2. We see no mixture of evil from whence good 
 may not proceed ; and are sure that, in many in- 
 stances, good does actually proceed from ttiose 
 things M hich have the appearance of evil. 
 
 3. The greatest part of those evils which we here 
 observe, ari.se from the abuse of human liberty, and 
 therefore are not directly to be charged upon God. 
 Prop. 16. 
 
 1, 2, 3. 4. If we judge by the phenomena of na- 
 ture, I. e. by the divine works of Creation and 
 Providence obvious to us, it seems that God is a 
 good Being. 
 
 5. God is so great, as to have no need of seeking 
 his own happiness in the causeless misery of his 
 creatures; nor is it a conceivable thing how he 
 should take any pleasure in it, or how he could be 
 happy with a supposed malignant disposition. 
 
 6. Benevolence is the great glory of a rational 
 being ; and without it, no other perfection can ap- 
 pear amiable and honourable. 
 
 Gr. 4 and 5. Prop. 38. and Gr. G. Prop. 27. Dem. 
 \.Cor. 2. 7. We have reason to believe that God 
 is perfectly good. Q. E. D. 
 
 Willi. Natural ltd. p- 13.5—139; p. 119—122. 
 edit. 7. Clarke at Boyles Lect. p. 113. 
 CoUU). IiH/. p. 68—71 ; edit. 3. p. 81—84. 
 Clarke's Post. Works, vol. i. p. 321—327 ; 
 337—341. 8vo. Bays on Div. Bcnev. p. 20— 
 29. Ahem. Serm. vol. ii. No. 2.* 
 
 + Vor .1 nirioiis .md va1iial)lo tract nn lliis siilijcct, sec Di. Tlionias 
 Bjll-'iiy's Divine ni ncvoltiire asserted and vindicalcU. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The great objection to this, is the mixture of evil 
 in the world, natural evil, i. e. pain, and moral 
 evil, i. e. vice (vid. Def. 38.) : and it is questioned, 
 how far the existence and prevalence of it in so 
 great a degree can be reconcilable with what has 
 been said of the Divine goodness, since God has 
 already been proved an Almighty Being. 
 
 Ans. 1. We cannot possibly judge as to the pro- 
 portion there is between the (juantity of happiness 
 and misery in the creation, merely from what wo 
 observe in this part of it, which is our own abode. 
 There may perhaps be regions incomparably more 
 extensive and populous, in which neither natural 
 nor moral evil are known, at least by experience. 
 
 2. It is possible there is no evil of any kind, from 
 \vhich a degree of good may not proceed, more than 
 suflicient to counterbalance it. 
 
 3. When moral evil has been introduced, which 
 (as was observed above, gr. 3.) might be by the 
 abuse of liberty in free creatures, then penal evil is 
 on the whole good, and well suited to a state of dis- 
 cipline, which may possibly in those circumstances 
 be intended as a proper introduction to a state of 
 enjoyment. 
 
 4. The scheme of things which we now see may 
 perhaps be continually growing better and better ; 
 not to say, that for aught certainly appears by the 
 light of nature, the time may come w hen all natural 
 and moral evil may cease. 
 
 Rcl. of Nat. p. 71, 72. Bii.vt. Works, vol. ii. 
 p. 37—39, 90, 91. Scott's Christian Life, vol. 
 ii. p. 243-249 ; Works, vol. i. p. 283. Balij. 
 on Dio. Reel. p. 31 — 33, 38— -10 ; Tracts, p. 
 241—243,249—2.51. Leibnitz Theod. \o\. \. 
 p. 83 — 83. Blandevillc' s Free Thoughts, p. 
 99^ — 102. Maim. More Nevoeh. part iii. c. 
 xii. Travels of Cyrus, p. 2-48-258. 12mo. 
 Hallet on Script, vol. ii. p. 310—318. Ahem. 
 Serm. vol. ii. No. 3. S. Clarke on the Orig. 
 of Nat. Evil, prccs. p. 60—77, et p. 160, ad 
 fin. Bonct's Contemplation of Nature. 
 
 LECTURE LVI. 
 
 SCHOLILM 2. 
 
 It will still be demanded. Why was moral evil 
 permitted ? To this it is generally answered. That 
 it was the re.'iult of natural liberty ; and it was 
 fit, that among all the other da.sses and orders 
 of being, some should be formed possessed of this, 
 as it conduces to the harmony of the universe, and 
 to the beautiful variety of beings in it. 
 
 Yet still it is replied, Why did not God prevent 
 this abuse of liberty ? One would not willingly say 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 275 
 
 that he is not able to do it, without violating the 
 nature of his creatures ; nor is it possible that any 
 should prove this. It is commonly said, That he per- 
 mitted it in order to extract from thence greater 
 good ; but it may be further queried, Could he not 
 have produced that greater good without such a 
 means? Could he not have secured among all his 
 creatures universal good and universal liappiness, 
 in full consistency with the liberty he had given 
 them? I acknowledge I see no way of answering 
 this question, but by saying. He had indeed a natural 
 power of doing it, but that he saw it better not to 
 do it, though the reasons upon which it appeared 
 preferable to him are entirely unknown to us. 
 
 Pope's Ethic Epist. No. i. ver. 43—60, and 
 123 — 172. Foster s Serm.\o\. 'n.l>io. i. Clarke 
 on the Orig. of Mor. Evil, pras. p. 122 — 
 140, and p. 182—198. * 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Some have thought it more for the honour of the 
 Divine Being, to say that the nature of things is 
 such, that the happiness of the whole .system will 
 be more effectually promoted by the misery of some 
 part of it ; and therefore, that perfect benevolence 
 would induce the Creator to choose such a mixed 
 scheme, rather than another in which there should 
 have been unmixed virtue and happiness. — But 
 granting that there is no evil, from which an equal 
 or greater degree of good may not proceed, {Schol. 
 1. yr. 2.) yet it may justly be asked. What is here 
 meant by the nature of things? or how can it pos- 
 sibly be imagined or believed, that a greater sum of 
 happiness should arise from tlic mixture of evil, 
 than Omnipotence could have produced some other 
 way ? or how can the view or experience of misery 
 be necessary to give a virtuous being a more ex- 
 (juisite relish of happiness ? f 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 If we still remain di-ssatisfied with the reply 
 given to the objection, Schol. 1. it seems that the 
 chief reason is, that wc are apt to go on the mis- 
 taken principle, that God must needs raise the 
 liappiness of the universe to the highest possible 
 degree : but we are to remember, on the one hand, 
 that God is a being of infinite power {Prop. 31.) ; 
 and on the other, that to be created implies to be 
 limited in point of happiness as v.ell as of power ; 
 and to be possessed of some limited degree of hap- 
 piness, necessarily implies a possibility of receiving 
 some higher degrees of it from an almiglity power ; 
 
 ' ^"i'"" referred to may be added Bond's " Contcrapl i- 
 
 t ion of Nature." Among tlic works wliidi exasiieratc the evils of man- 
 kind, in order to promote atheistical purposes, may lie reekoncd the 
 •■ Systeme de la Nature," ascrilad to Miralxau tlie father. On the 
 'fuestion, Why did not God prevent the abnse of liberty? no one is 
 more nceptically copious than Bayle, in several articles of his Histori. 
 cal Dictionary, and particularly under the heads of Manichxans and 
 Paulicians. 
 
 + For the writers \sho maintain that both the natural and moral 
 evil existing in the world are essential parts of the best possible syslem, 
 rrconrse may be had to Hartley, Priestley, Cooper, and Godwin. 
 Soamc Jenyns may in part be mentioned in this view. 
 
 r 'i 
 
 so that it can never be said lhat God has done his 
 utmost for the happiness of any particular creature, 
 or of the universe in general : and this is so far 
 from being a reflection on him, that it is indeed his 
 glory. Whatever the number of creatures be, it 
 might have been multiplied to and beyond any 
 given degree ; there might have been as many 
 beings of the highest order of all, as there are of 
 them and all the subordinate classes ; and what- 
 ever were supposed to have been done, there would 
 still have been room for the inquiry. Why was not 
 more done ? And if the answer is not to be resolved 
 into mere sovereign pleasure, as perhaps it may, 
 then it must be referred into some reason unknown 
 to us ; for the reason cannot be, that tlie happiness 
 of the whole would have been less, which in tliis 
 case it is a contradiction to assert. 
 
 Boyle on Vencrat. p. 88, 89. Baycs on Divine 
 Benev. p. 65—70. Fenelon's Phil. Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 70 — 82. pras. \ 9, 10. p. 72 — 76. 
 Leibnitz Theod. vol. ii. p. 251, &c. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 To this way of stating the Divine Goodness, as 
 pursuing the happiness of the cieation so far as it 
 is fit to be pursued, it is objected, that nothing can 
 be fit, but v/hat tends to produce happiness; and 
 that no being can be perfectly good, unless he does 
 all the good he can possibly do ; but this last prin- 
 ciple cannot, for the reason above mentioned, be 
 allowed, when we speak of an Almighty Agent. 
 
 On the whole, it must be owned to be a consider- 
 able difficulty. Nevertheless, we are sure there is 
 a mixture of evil in the world ; and it becomes us 
 seriously to consider, Whether it be more honour- 
 able to God, or decent in us to say, that ho could 
 have prevented it, though for some wise but un- 
 known reason he did not choose to do it ; or to say, 
 he could not have prevented it, witliout choosing a 
 scheme, in consequence of which his creation might 
 have been less happy than it now is. 
 
 Balg. on Div. Rect. p. 2;3— .30 ; Tracts, p. 
 241—248. Baijes on Div. Benev. p. 29— .33. 
 Grove on Wisdom, p. 59 — 80 ; Works, vol, 
 iv. p. 72—100. 
 
 LECTURE LVII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 It may not be improper here to take some notice 
 of the celebrated controversy between Mr. Balguy, 
 Mr. Bayes, and Mr. Grove, concerning the Spring 
 of the Divine Actions. Balguy refers them all to 
 Rectitude, Bayes to Benevolence, and Grove to Wis- 
 dom. There is something which well deserves an 
 attentive perusal in their writings on this subject, 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 of whirh wo sliall jjivc a short abstract in tlie fol- 
 low ing scliolia, so Far as thcv relate to tlie present 
 (|iieslion.* 
 
 ]{aly;uy maintains, tliat (Jod always docs that 
 which is rijjht and fit, and that all his moral attri- 
 butes, vi:. justice, truth, faithfulness, mercy, pa- 
 tience, &c. are but so many dillerent modifications 
 of rectitude. He tiiinks it most agreeable to the 
 Divine simplicity, and most honouraI)le to (Jod, to 
 conceive of liim as always inlliicnced by this uni- 
 form principle ; and that tliis manner of conceiving 
 of him would prevent much confusion in our ideas, 
 which arises from considerin"; his dillerent attributes 
 as having difl'erent interests and claims. 
 
 Div. Rect. p. 3—8 ; Tracts, p. 212—217. 
 
 He grants that the communication of good is one 
 great and right end of the Creator; but maintains 
 that it is not the only end : he ultimately aims at 
 his own (/lory, i. e. the eomplacential approbation 
 of his own actions, arising from a consciousness of 
 having inviolably preserved a due decorum, order, 
 and beauty in his works : and if ever the happiness 
 of any particular creature, or of tlie whole system, 
 interfere w iih this, (as he thinks it sometimes may,) 
 it must so far give way to it. 
 
 Div. Itccf. p. 20—25. Tracts, p. 219—222. 
 
 This leads him into some reflections on the nature 
 of beauty and order, in which he maintains that 
 they are real and absolute in themselves, and are 
 not merely relative to our faculties ; otherwise, why 
 this wonderful apparatus, this profusion of art and 
 skill in the universe ? He contends that l)r. 
 Hutchcson grants this, when he places all beauty 
 in itniforinity amidst variety. Now, whatever is 
 l)cautiful in the universe, the Creator must see it, 
 and have a perfect view of all that is amiable and 
 delightful in it. He concludes this part of his dis- 
 course with observing, that to suppose all the beauty, 
 order, and harmony of the universe subservient to 
 tlie happiness of living creatures, is hardly to be 
 reconciled with the ap|)earancc of things ; so that, 
 on the whole, the increase of happiness, and love of 
 order, being both agreeable to the rectitude and 
 perfection of the Divine Nature, are joint ends, 
 blended together both in the works of creation and 
 providence. 
 
 Dir. Rect. p. 16—23 ; Tracts, p. 223—230. 
 
 SCHOLllM 7. 
 
 To this Mr. TJayes objects. That to consider God 
 first in general as doing all that is right, and then 
 to reduce his particular moral attributes, asbranches 
 of this universal rc(;titudc of his nature, is going 
 
 ♦ 'I'liis coiilrovcrsy, Uiortili miu h rclcljr.'itcd in its time, is now 
 nc.nr]y for^otti-n. There liiivi- Iiilrly Ix-en few or no s|ieeific specula, 
 lions roncernirti; the Spring; of Action in tin; lieity, iiiiy fnrllier than 
 ,is it lias gfenerally been referred hy recent pliilosophers to lleiievolonce. 
 The tracts, however, of Bakjuy aiid Grove, as well as of Mr. IJayes, 
 may still deserve the attention of a student, since they contain many 
 important sentinients relative to the Divine conduct. 
 
 further about than is necessary, and leaves parti- 
 cular attributes entangled in just the same difticulty 
 as before ; but if it were otherwise, he says, that as 
 nothing can he Jit but what tends to jiromote happi- 
 ness, the best idea we can entertain of the rectitude 
 of God, is a disposition in him to promote the 
 general happiness of the universe ; and that we 
 may as well consider all the other moral attributes 
 as comprehended in this, and dillerent modilications 
 of it, as to consider them united in Balguy's view 
 of rectitude ; but with this advantage, that here we 
 shall have something certain to depend upon ; 
 whereas it must throw the mind into perpetual per- 
 plexity, if (for aught we know) God may have some 
 ends in his actions and dispensations entirely differ- 
 ent from, and perhaps opposite to, the happiness of 
 his creatures. 
 
 Baycs on Divine Benevolence, p. 7 — 19. 
 
 As for the ideas of order and beauty, he seems to 
 query. Whether those objects which appear beauti- 
 ful to us, may appear so to the Divine Mind ? He 
 thinks, that the only glorj' which God can propose 
 as the end of his actions, is the approbation of his 
 own benevolent mind, as acting always in such a 
 manner as shall be most for the happiness of the 
 creation. He urges several objections against 
 Balguy's notion of beauty, which it is not necessary 
 to contract here, lest we deviate too much from the 
 principal question. 
 
 Baycs, ib. p. 33 — 44. Relig.ofNat. p. 116—119. 
 
 On the whole, he concludes that the Divine 
 Benevolence is not to be stated as " an unbounded 
 inclination to communicate the highest degree of 
 happiness," which is a contradiction, as it would be 
 to suppose the greatest possible triangle actually 
 described (compare Sckol. 4.) ; but " as a kind 
 affection towards his creatures, inclining him to 
 confer upon that universe which he has made (and 
 which he might have created or not, or have created 
 with inferior or superior capacities for happiness) 
 the greatest happiness of which it is capable :" but 
 if it be asked. Why it was not made capable of 
 more ? he supposes that must be referred into the 
 will and pleasure of God. Bayes, ib. p. 70, 71. 
 
 LECTURE LVIII. 
 
 SCHOLlIiM 8. 
 
 Mr. Grove refers all into the tvisdom of God, 
 which he says is " the knowledge that God has of 
 what is fitting or unfit to be chosen in every imagin- 
 able circumstance ;" and taking it for granted that 
 he is under no wrong bias, concludes that he 
 always chooses according to this fitness. He adds, 
 that nothing can be fit to be chosen by any being, 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 277 
 
 but what has some reference to happiness, either 
 that of the agent or some other ; and that beauty 
 and orde7- are nothing any further than as they tend 
 to communicate pleasure to percipient beings : 
 therefore the end of God in the creation must be 
 happiness : as to the degree and manner of attain- 
 ing it, suited to the faculties, dependences, and 
 freedom of his rational creatures. On the whole, 
 he supposes it must be apparently fit that no reason- 
 able creature should be made miserable before he 
 deserves it. He further adds, that he should be 
 made for happiness ; but that he should be obliged, 
 as reasonable and free, to choose reason as his 
 guide to it ; and if he will not be persuaded to take 
 the right way, it is fit he should be left to the ill 
 consequences of his own wrong choice. All this, 
 therefore, he supposes God must will. 
 
 Grove on Wisd. p. 1 — 7; Works, vol. iv. p. 7 — 
 13. Rel. of Nat. p. 116. 
 As Bayes and others have maintained that bene- 
 volence is a kind inclination or affection in God, 
 Grove endeavours to prove that, properly speaking, 
 there is no inclination in him ; and maintains, that 
 to suppose such an inclination as depends not on 
 the previous act of the divine understanding, will 
 be in effect imputing to him a blind and irrational 
 propensity ; and that nothing could be more dis- 
 honourable to the Divine Being than universally to 
 assign this reason for his conduct in any instance, 
 "That he was inclined, or had a mind to do it :" — 
 but he further maintained it, as probable at least, 
 that there are no inclinations in God at all distinct 
 from his actual volitions ; but that the actings of 
 the Divine Will are immediately and inseparably 
 connected with those of his understanding : to sup- 
 pose the contrary, he thinks, would in effect be 
 supposing that reason would not be sufficient to 
 determine the Divine Mind. If any determination 
 be said to have proceeded from such inclination, 
 that coincides entirely with the former exploded 
 hypothesis of blind inclination ; but if it be said, 
 the action proceeded partly from reason and partly 
 from inclination, he asserts, that it may as well be 
 supposed to proceed entirely from reason. 
 
 Grove, ib. p. 14 — 23; Works, vol. iv. p. 22 — 31. 
 Balff. Div. Reel. p. 9, 10 ; Tracts, p. 217, 218. 
 Hence Mr. Grove infers, in the process of his 
 discourse, several things relating to the divine 
 liberty," the origin of evil, the divine happiness, and 
 the duties of natural religion, which have been, or 
 will be, referred to, so far as there appears any 
 thing peculiarly remarkable in them. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 9. 
 
 From the survey we have taken of this contro- 
 versy, it may be natural to make the follow ing 
 remarks : — 
 
 1 . That each of these ingenious writers discovers a 
 
 pious temper, a concern for the honour of the Divine 
 Being, and the advancement of virtue in the world. 
 
 2. That they all acknowledge, that God does 
 always what is right and good : nay, that when one 
 thing is on the whole more fit than another, he 
 invariably chooses it. 
 
 3. That both Mr. Grove and Mr. Balguy acknow- 
 ledge the communication of happiness to be a noble 
 and excellent end, which the Deity in some mea- 
 sure has always in view ; and which he prosecutes, 
 so far as to bring happiness at least within the reach 
 of all his rational creatures ; never inflicting any 
 evil upon them out of caprice, or without some just 
 and important reason. 
 
 4. That there is very little difference between the 
 foundation of Grove's discourse and that of Bal- 
 guy's ; wisdom in the former being so stated, that 
 to be always governed by it, coincides with the 
 notion of rectitude maintained by the latter. 
 
 5. That Mr. Bayes himself does not assert that it 
 would have been impossible for God to have pro- 
 duced a greater sum of happiness ; and by granting 
 the contrar}', seems to overturn the foundation of 
 those arguments, by which he attempts to prove 
 that God has made the creation as happy as its 
 present capacity would admit. 
 
 6. It seems that a virtuous mind may be as easy, 
 in considering God as a Being of universal rectitude, 
 as if we were to consider him as a Being of un- 
 bounded benevolence : nay, it seems, that in some 
 respects the former will have the advantage ; as it 
 is impossible for us confidently to say what will be 
 for the greatest happiness of the whole ; but, on 
 the other hand, we may naturally conclude, that 
 rectitude will on the whole incline God to treat the 
 virtuous man in a more favourable manner than 
 the w icked. 
 
 7. That the scheme of universal benevolence in 
 the liighest sense, seems evidently to imply fatality ; 
 for if all the sin and misery of the creatures were 
 necessary to produce the greatest possible sum of 
 happiness, and if the perfection of the Divine Na- 
 ture determined him to produce this greatest sum, 
 then sin and misery would be necessary ; whereby 
 the doctrine of liberty is destroyed, and such a 
 seeming reflection thrown on the Divine Character, 
 as few would be able to digest. 
 
 8. It seems, therefore, on the whole, best to keep 
 to that in which we all agree and freely acknow- 
 ledge, — there are depths in the divine counsels 
 unfathomable to us ; so that, though we may justly 
 believe God has his reasons for sull'ering evil to bo 
 produced, we cannot certainly (U-tcrininc what those 
 reasons are ; and when wc go about particularly to 
 explain them, we find it dillicult, accoiding to the 
 dilfercnt schemes we embrace, on the one hand, to 
 vindicate his goodness, — or on the other, his omni- 
 potence. 
 
278 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 PHOI'OSITION XLVI. 
 GOD IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. This would follow merely from his heintf a 
 Spirit, endued with perfections vastly superior to 
 our own. Vid. Prop. 21. Cor. and Prop. 18. Cor. 1. 
 
 2. There may he (for any thiiij^ we eertainly know) 
 attributes and perfections in God, of whieh wc have 
 not the least idea. 
 
 3. In those perfeetions of the Divine Nature, of 
 w hich wc have some idea, there are many things to 
 us inexplicable, and \Mth whieh, the more deeply 
 and attentively we think of them, the more we find 
 our tlioughts swallowed up ; !•. i/. his self-existence, 
 his eternity, his onuiiprescnce, whctlicr it be eon- 
 eeiveil of as diflusive or not dill'usive ; his produc- 
 ing ell'ects by mere volition, the creation of matter, 
 or even of spirit; his onuiiscienec, where his know- 
 ledge of M'hat is past from the creation of the world, 
 (how long soever you suppose it to have been,) 
 bears no given proportion to the knowledge of what 
 is yet to come, if any creature be supposed immor- 
 tal : especially, his knowledge of future contingen- 
 cies ; liow, being perfectly happy, and consequently 
 having nothing to wish or desire, he was excited to 
 act ; how, being perfectly good and omnipotent, he 
 permitted evil to enter into the world ; besides many 
 other particulars touclicd upon in the preceding 
 lectures. 
 
 1, 2, and 3. 4. God is incomprehensible. Q, 
 E. D. Ahem. Sertn. vol. ii. No. (5, 7. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 We have reason to believe, that as the perfections 
 of God are infinite, if there be any orders of intelli- 
 gent creatures superior to us, these perfections must 
 also be incomprehensible to them. 
 
 TiUots. Serm. vol. ii. p. 7G8. ReJ. of Nature, 
 p. 93, 94. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It certainly becomes us to use great modesty and 
 caution when we are speaking of the Divine per- 
 fections. Archhp. Kiny on Predest. §30,31. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It ought to be remembered, that the incompre- 
 hensible nature of the Divine Being, is no sufficient 
 reason for our allowing ourselves in self-contradie- 
 tory language, when we are speaking of him ; as 
 some of the ancients did, when they spoke of him 
 as more than unknown, without existence, without 
 substance, a super-divine Divinity, and as terminat- 
 inij iiijiniti/ itself, so that infinite space is but a 
 small corner of his prodiu tions, and heijond perfec- 
 tion ; wliieh, tliough probably designed only as 
 strong hyperboles, tend to expose the persons that 
 
 use them to ritlicule, rather than to exalt our ideas 
 of the Divine glory. 
 
 Divine Analogy, p. 05, 66. Frascr's Life of 
 Nadir Schah, p. 12 — 18. 
 
 I'ROPOSITION XLVll. 
 The passions and affections of human nature are 
 not in any degree to be ascribed to God. Compare 
 Prop. 1. Gr. 3. and Proj). 13. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Many of those passions are grievous and 
 troublesome ; as anger, envy, fear, shame, &c. and 
 consecjucntly there can be no room for them in a 
 Being perfectly happy, as God is. Prop. 38. 
 
 2. Others of them, which aflbrd more pleasing 
 sensations, are founded on some degree of weak- 
 ness, and plainly imply a defect of happiness; as 
 desire, liope, &c. and consequently are inconsistent 
 with the omnipotence, as well as the felicity, of 
 God. 
 
 3. The workings of the passions in us are always 
 attended with some commotions in animal nature, 
 and therefore imply corporeity ; but God being in- 
 corporeal, such passions can have no place in him. 
 Prop. 41. 
 
 1, 2, and 3. 4. God is free from human passions. 
 Q. ii. D. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Nevertheless, in a Jiyurative sense, love and joy, 
 anger and pity, &c. may be ascribed to God ; when 
 we mean no more than that God does such acts, as 
 in us would be at least probable indications of such 
 passions in our mind ; v. y. supplying the necessi- 
 tous, relieving the sorrow ful, punishing the vicious. 
 Sec. Yet, strictly speaking, we are to conceive of 
 all these as performed by him with the utmost calm- 
 ness and serenity ; and even that complacency with 
 which God contemplates his own perfeetions, and 
 the actions and characters of the best of his crea- 
 tures, is of a nature very dillerent from, and vastly 
 superior to, those sallies of joy which wc perceive 
 in ourselves in the most agreeable situations of life, 
 and when our enjoyments are most refined. 
 
 Limh. Theol. 1. ii. c. x. § 3. Burn, on the Art. 
 p. 24—27. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It may be proper here to mention the scheme 
 which Mr. Brown advances in his Divine Analogy, 
 as of so great importance, and which is built upon 
 a hint in Archbishop King. 
 
 He pretends, that all we know of God is merely 
 by analoyy ; i. e. from what we see in ourselves 
 and observe in others, compared with events pro- 
 duced by the Divine Being, we conclude, that there 
 is soinething in (Jod in some degree answerable to 
 those phenomena, though indeed very different from 
 them. This analogy, as he maintains, difl'ers much 
 from metaphor, which is a mere figure ; v. rj. when 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 we speak of the eye of God, the hand of God, it is 
 a metaphor, God being entirely incorporeal ; but 
 when we speak of the knowledge and power of 
 God, it is by analogy. 
 
 If he means by this, that the divine manner of 
 knowing and acting is different from ours, or that 
 w hatever dcgr ;e of knowledge and power we possess, 
 bears no proportion to that of the Supreme Being, 
 it is what every one will very readily allow, and 
 has generally been asserted by all who believe the 
 existence and infinite perfections of God ; but if he 
 intends any thing else, his meaning seems either 
 very unintelligible, or very absurd ; so that the 
 scheme, in either of these views, seems utterly un- 
 worthy of that vast parade with which he introduces 
 it, as if the whole of natural and revealed religion 
 depended upon such an explication of the matter. 
 Archbishop Kiti'j on Prcdest. \ 3 — 6, 8, 9, 37. 
 Grove on Wisd. p. 42, 43 ; Works, vol. iv. p. 
 48, 49. Procetl. of Understanding, p. 3 — 6, 
 and 132 — 143. Divine Analogy, c. i. Law's 
 Notes on King, on the Orig. of Evil, p. 67 — 
 70. quarto ; edit. 3. p. 89—93. 
 
 LECTURE LX. 
 
 PROPOSITION XLVIII. 
 To consider some of the most celebrated defini- 
 tions of virtue, and accounts of the foundation of 
 it, and to compare them witli that given, Pif. 38. 
 
 SOLI TION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Dr. Clarke and Mr. Balguy have the same 
 notion with that stated above, as evidently appears 
 from the references to them, Def. 38. and 3(5. Cor. 
 And those of the ancients, who defined virtue to be 
 living according to nature, seem to have meantmuch 
 the same. 
 
 2. Mr. Wollaston has placed it in a regard to 
 truth; i.e. lie supposes that not only our words, 
 but our actions, have a language ; when this 
 language is agreeable to the nature of things, then 
 the action is virtuous ; but when it implies a false 
 assertion, then it is vicious. This account, though 
 it difi'ers in words, seems entirely to coincide with 
 the fonner, or evidently to depend upon it. 
 
 Jtel. of Xal. p. 8—13, and 20—24. llntchcs. on 
 the Pass. p. 2;j.3 — 274. Grove's Works, vol. 
 iv. p. oO — 54. 
 
 3. Dr. Hutcheson defines moral goodness " to be 
 a quality apprehended in some actions, which i)ro- 
 duecs approbation and love towards the actor, from 
 those who receive no benefit from tlic action ;" and 
 supposes what he calls a moral sense im|)hintc(l in 
 our natures, or an instinct, like that of self-preser- 
 vation, which, independently on any arguments 
 
 279 
 
 taken from the reasonablciicss and advantage of 
 any action, leads us to perform it ourselves, or to 
 approve it when performed by others. 
 
 Hutches. Inq. Pref. p. 6— S, and p. 101—106; 
 edit. ii. p. 14—16, 111—116. 
 
 That there is indeed such a sense, as to some 
 branches of virtue, though in many persons and in- 
 stances much impaired, is not to be denied, and is 
 well illustrated and proved in 
 
 Hutches. Inq. p. 107 — 121; edit. ii. p. 117 — 
 135. Sped. vol. viii. No. 588. 
 
 Nor does it imply any innate idea, as some have 
 supposed, any more than the intuitive discerning of 
 self-evident propositions implies the ideas connect- 
 ed with them to have been innate. 
 
 Watts's Ess. No. iv. §5. p. 108—113. 
 
 But Dr. Hutcheson Las made this instinct to be 
 the very foundation of virtue ; and expressly says, 
 that " every good action is supposed to follow from 
 affection to some rational agent ;" and that " the 
 true spring of virtue is some instinct, which inllu- 
 ences to the love of others, as the moral sense 
 determines us to approve actions flowing from this 
 principle." 
 
 Hutches. Inq. p. 143, 1.53 ; edit. ii. p. 155 — 165. 
 
 But Mr. Balguy pleads, that this makes virtue an 
 arhilrary thing, which might have been contrary to 
 what it is, had the instinct been contrary : that it 
 implies, that a creature with intelligence, reason, and 
 liberty, could not have performed one goou action 
 without this affection: that it makes brutes capable 
 of virtue, since they are capable of affections : that 
 it estimates the excellency of characters by the 
 strength of passions, by no means in our own 
 power ; and, on the whole, gives us a much less 
 honourable idea of virtue than the method of stating 
 it, which is taken above: to which we may add, 
 that if we do not conceive of God as an affectionate 
 Being, such an idea of moral goodness as this would 
 be inconsistent with that of the divine rectitude. 
 
 It may be observed by the way, that tliough Lord 
 Shaftesbury uses many expressions which Dr. Ilut- 
 clicson has adopted, yet it seems that he in the main 
 falls in with the account given above ; since he con- 
 siders virtue as founded on " the eternal tneasitre 
 and immutable relutionof things," or, in other words, 
 as consisting " in a certain just disposition of a 
 rational creature towards tlie moral objects of right 
 and wrong." Shaftesh. Char. vol. ii. p. 36, 40. 
 
 We conclude this head with observing, that Dr. 
 Hutcheson's definition is liable to some exception, 
 as there may be room to question what he means by 
 the expression, " Those who receive no advantage 
 from tlie action." If it be only the generality of 
 mankind, it is evidently a vague, uncertain manner 
 of speaking, and for tiiat reason to be declined in 
 so important a definition ; but if he means all 
 
28Q 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 rational hfiui/s, t\\c\\ it will remain to be provrd, 
 that all tlu'so, or ovrn the liuinan species, do iieees- 
 sarily approve and love virtue in all its branches, 
 and all that practise it. 
 
 liaff/. Found, of Goodness, part i. p. 7 — 15, 20 
 —22 ; Tracts, p. 46—6-1, 59— G2. 
 
 LECTURE LXI. 
 
 4. Many writers, both ancient and modern, have 
 placed virtue in the imitation of God ; and it must 
 be allowed to be a very noble view of it. Now, as 
 it has already been proved, Prop. 44. that God is a 
 Being: of perfect rectitude, it follows, that taking: 
 virtue on our definition, it will also be an imitation 
 of God ; but, on the wliole, this definition did not 
 seem preferable, for two reasons: 1. Because it is 
 dinicult to prove tlic moral perfections of the Divine 
 Being, otherwise than l)y the medium of an immuta- 
 ble diflerence in actions, the conformity to which 
 shall be honourable, and the contrary dishonourable. 
 2. Because, when virtue is said to be an imitation 
 of God, great allowance must be made for the dif- 
 ferent nature and relations of that blessed Being 
 and ourselves ; since there are some things in which 
 it would be impossible or impious for us to attempt 
 to imitate him ; and others, in which it is impossi- 
 ble that lie should be an example to us ; i. c. in all 
 those branches of duty which suppose either de- 
 pendence, corporeity, or guilt. There is indeed in 
 these branches of virtue, a correspondence between the 
 nature of God and our temper and conduct ; but 
 that cannot in strict propriety be called a resem- 
 blance. 
 
 Plato ap. Howe's Blessedness, SfC. Tit. Paye. 
 Tillots. vol. ii. p. 581. Ho^ve, ib. p. (59 — 79. 
 Ap. Op. vol. i. p. 471 — 475. Evans's Chris- 
 tian Temp. vol. i. p. 59 — 66. 
 
 5. Others, and particularly Dr. Cumberland, in 
 his Law of Nature, have placed the whole of virtue, 
 as in men, in the love of God and our fellow-crea- 
 tures ; or, to express it in his own words, " The 
 foundation of all natural law is this : The greatest 
 benevolence of every rational agent towards all, 
 forms the happiest state of every and of all the be- 
 nevolent, so far as it is in their power ; and is neces- 
 sarily requisite to the happiest state wliich they can 
 attain, — and therefore the common good is the su- 
 preme law." 
 
 This is an amiable view of it, and well expresses 
 that principle of gratitude and benevolence whence 
 all true virtue in us must ilow ; but it nearly coin- 
 cides with Dr. Hutcheson's notion, yr. 3. and in a 
 great measure with yr. 4. ; for to love God, is to 
 regard him as the centre of happiness, — whom 
 
 therefore we must in all things study to resend)Ic 
 and to please ; and thus it is an universal principle, 
 of which the love of our neighbour is a very impor- 
 tant branch ; and when we are required to do to 
 others as w e v<ould have them do to us, the mean- 
 ing is, that we must treat them as w e could reason- 
 a! ly desire they sliould treat us, were they in our 
 circumstances and we in theirs. So that here is a 
 reference to the fitness of things according to pre- 
 sent circumstances ; which plainly shows that pre- 
 cept to be founded on the definition of virtue which 
 we have advanced. 
 
 Cumbcrl. Law of Nature, c. i. § 4. Hohhes's 
 Leviath. p. 140. sub fin. Evans's Christian 
 Temper, vol. ii. p. 186 — 194. 
 
 6. Aristotle, and other ancient moralists, have 
 placed virtue in a mediocrity, supposing vice to 
 consist in extremes ; but it is evident, that merely 
 from this definition none could know what virtue 
 is ; nor can it be determined wliat is an extreme, 
 till we know what is agreeable to the nature of 
 things ; besides, there are some branches of virtue 
 which cannot be carried to an extreme, v. y. resig- 
 nation to the will of God, — belief of his promises, 
 &c. 
 
 Aristot. Ethic. 1. ii. c. vi. Grot.de Jure Belli 
 et Pads, Prol. § 43 — 45. Reliy. of Nat. p. 
 24, 25. 
 
 7. Some have placed all virtue in a wise reyard to 
 our own interest ; which seems to have been the 
 opinion of Dr. Waterland, Mr. Clarke of Hull, 
 and Dr. Rutherford. Concerning which it may be 
 observed, tliat the question is not Whether virtue 
 be always most for our interest ? (vid. Prop. 44. 
 Cor. 2.) nor Whether there be any such thing in 
 nature as disinterested benevolence ? (which we 
 shall afterwards examine, Prop. 50. Schol.) or 
 Whether (supposing there is) all virtue^consists in 
 it, so that our own interest should be disregarded ? 
 but Whether a wise regard to it is the clearest, the 
 most rational, and amiable view of virtue in gene- 
 lal ? — which, from what has been said above, evi- 
 dently appears not to be tlie ease.* f 
 
 ♦ Dr. John Brown may be added to the number of those who have 
 placed virtue in a wise regard to our own interest. — See the second of 
 Evsays on the Characteristics of tlie Earl of Shaftesbury. 
 + Oilier definitions of virtue, and accounts of the foundation of it, 
 have been given since the Lecture was written. Mr. Hume includes, 
 under his description of virtue, whatever is agreeable to ourselves and 
 others ; and wliattver is useful to ourselves and others. Dr. Adam 
 Smith refers it to the principle of sympathy. Mr. Archdeacon I'ali y 
 defines virtue to be " Tlie doing good to mankind, in obedience to the 
 will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness." 
 
 Hvmc on tlie Princ. of Morals, as separately printed, passim, or 
 in the Collection of Ins Essays. Adam Smith's Theory of 
 Moral Sentiments, vol. i. p 1— .')2. fith edit. Paley's Prin- 
 ciplcsof Mural and Political Philosophy, vol. i. p. 41—53. 7th 
 rillt. J)r. Beattie's Elements of Moral Science, vol. ii. p. 
 8—77. 
 
 Tor a view of the difTerent accounts which have been given of the 
 nature of virtue, and of the diflcrent systems which have been formed 
 concerning the principle of Approbation, see Dr. Adam Smith ubi 
 supra, vol. ii. p. 195 — S.OS. 
 
 About fifty years ago, Mr. Jameson, a Scottish clergyman, publi.slied 
 a treatise, to show that the obligation of virtue is unitedly founded 
 upon the reason and fitness of things, the moral sense, and the will of 
 God. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 281 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 From a sui-sey of all these, it may appear that 
 tlie most considerable writers, whose notions we 
 have examined in the five first steps, have differed 
 from each other, more in expression than in mean- 
 ing, in the difl'erent views they have given of moral 
 virtue. 
 
 LECTURE LXII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XLIX. 
 To estimate the degree of virtue in any given 
 action. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. There can be no virtue at all in any action, if 
 the agent by whom it is performed has not some 
 idea of the moral fitness of things. — Vid. Def. 38. 
 
 2. There can be no virtue at all in it, if there be 
 not an ultimate purpose of acting agreeably to tliat 
 fitness, or from an end, which it is upon the whole 
 virtuous to propose ; for if the action be designed 
 merely as a means of obtaining an end which it is 
 vicious to desire and pursue, in that connexion it 
 participates of the meanness of the end, how excel- 
 lent soever it might otherwise have been ; and the 
 nobler the motive is, cat. par. the more virtuous is 
 the action. 
 
 Scott's Christian Life, vol. i. c. iv. p. 251 — 258 ; 
 Works, vol. i. p. 97 — 100. Sped. vol. iii. 
 No. 213. 
 
 3. The action must, on the whole, be chosen by 
 the agent, in order to its being virtue in him ; other- 
 wise it is not so properly his action as the action of 
 some other being, whose instrument or organ he at 
 that time is. — Vid. Def. 10. 
 
 4. It is much debated. Whether it be necessary 
 that the being acting should have a liberty of choice, 
 {Def. 22.) i. e. be able to choose otherwise. It must 
 be owned, this does not follow from our definition 
 of virtue ; nevertheless, it may be allowed, that the 
 virtue of a being in a state of probation, must be 
 founded in a liberty of choice. 
 
 Balyiiy's Divine Rect. p. 26—28. Grove's 
 Divine Wisdom, p. 61 — 63. 
 
 5. It cannot be necessary that there should be in 
 the general some degree of affection in every agent, 
 to render his actions virtuous ; for then the Divine 
 Being, if he be free from afl"ections and passions, 
 would be incapable of virtue, contrary to Prop. 43. ; 
 but when passions are wrought into the constitution 
 of any being, as in us, it is indeed very desirable 
 that they should concur with the volition ; but if 
 they do not, and a fit action is performed without 
 any pa.ssionate impressions at all, from a rational 
 principle of gratitude to God, and regard to the 
 
 happiness of man, it is still a virtuous action. — Vid. 
 Prop. 48. (jr. 3. 
 
 Balg. Inq. part i. p. 57—60 ; Tracts, p. 92 — 95. 
 
 6. Though the degree of virtue in any action is 
 lessened by the degree in which it proceeds, from a 
 regard to any private advantage, distinct from virtue 
 itself (vid. gr. 2.) ; yet if any be excited to virtuous 
 actions, in hopes thereby of attaining to a state of 
 complete virtue, the degree of virtue in such actions 
 is not thereby lessened : but this is properly loving 
 virtue for virtue's sake. 
 
 Shaftesb. Char. vol. ii. p. 58—66. Balg. Lett, 
 to a Deist, No. i. p. 33 — 36. Balg. Moral 
 Goodness, part ii. p. 33 — 38 ; Tracts, p. 129 
 —132. 
 
 7. When the passions work in a powerful manner 
 on the side of virtue, the force of virtue is in that 
 case less seen than when they work strongly against 
 it, and a regard to the fitness of things surmounts 
 them. Nevertheless, there may be as great virtue 
 in a being, where there is no struggle at all, as 
 where virtue triumphs over the most violent oppo- 
 sition ; otherwise the Deity would be incapable of 
 virtue : nay, there may be virtue where the passions 
 plead strongly on its side ; otherwise a man would 
 daily grow less capable of exalted degrees of virtue 
 as he gained a conquest over the irregularities of 
 his passions ; all which is most evidently absurd. 
 
 Shaftesb. Char. vol. ii. p. 36 — 38. Bahj. of 
 Moral Goodness, part ii. p. 88, 89 ; Tracts, 
 p. 192, 193. 
 
 LECTURE LXIIL 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 On nearly the like principles ( mutat. mutand.) 
 the degree of vice in any given action may be esti- 
 mated. The matter is largely stated on both sides in 
 Hutches. Tnrj. p. 150 — 168 ; edit. ii. p. 165 — 183. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It is impossible certainly to pronounce on the 
 degree of moral good in any action, unless we 
 exactly knew the heart of the agent, and also knew 
 the whole of his circumstances and relations, so as 
 to be able confidently to determine what he could, 
 and what he could not, have known concerning the 
 moral fitness or unfitness of the thing in question. 
 —Vid. Def. 38. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 God alone can certainly and infallibly judge of 
 the degree of virtue or vice in any given action ; 
 much more may this be affirmed concerning the 
 whole of any character. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Dr. Hutcheson has attempted to introduce ma- 
 
282 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 theniaticnl caU ulalioiis into those subjects of mo- 
 rality ; of \\ liich it \uay not I)e improper to -rive a 
 little specimen. It is to be observed, that he 
 undertakes to show the method of stating the im- 
 portance of a character, rather tlian the degree of 
 virtue in any particular action ; and his rules are 
 these: — Let M signify tlie momrnt, or degree of 
 yood produced by tlie person, whose character is 
 under consideration ; H tlic heiu voh ncc of his tem- 
 per ; and A his ubiliti/: then M^BxA, !. c. in 
 a compound ratio of his benevolence and ability; — 
 when, in any two beings, their abilities are the same, 
 M=B ; — when their benevolence is equal, MirA. 
 On the other hand, it appears from the former view, 
 TM 
 
 that I^— ^ '• ^- directly as the moment of good ; 
 
 and inversely as the ability. 
 
 When present interest lies on the side of virtue, 
 M— I 
 
 if I express it, then B~ ; but if it lies ayainst 
 
 virtue, then Br:- 
 
 A 
 
 He adds, that it is the per- 
 
 fection of goodness, when MrzA ; for then the vir- 
 tue of any two beings compared will be equal ; i. e. 
 : : 1 : 1 whatever their abilities are. This he sup- 
 poses the Stoics meant, when they said, The virtue 
 of a wise man was equal to that of the gods : — j'et 
 here, by the way, they took it for granted, that a 
 wise man had no regard at all to his own interest, 
 otherwise the assertion on these principles would be 
 false ; and if the reasoning in Prop. 45. Sc/i. 4. be 
 allowed, this canon cannot be applied to the Divine 
 Being ; since A expresses an infinite quantity, and 
 M can only express a finite. 
 
 To express the degree of moral evil in any cha- 
 racter, let fi signify the degree of evil produced, and 
 H hatred or ill-will, — and the former canon ( mut. 
 mutand.) may be applied. 
 
 Hutch, ib. p. 168 — 174, 177, 178 ; second edit, 
 p. 182—188, 191, 192. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 How right soever this may be in the general, yet 
 when particular circumstances and characters come 
 to be examined by it, it will be found of little use ; 
 since it is hai'dly possible to express, by propor- 
 tional numbers, the degree of benevolence, the de- 
 gree of ability for virtuous actions, and the degree 
 in which interest is apprehended and considered 
 for or against them ; which must all be exactly ad- 
 ju.sted before the preceding canons can be applied. 
 
 LECTURE LXIV. 
 
 DEFINITION XLI. 
 Those branches of virtue which more immediately 
 respect God, arc called divine ; those which respect 
 
 our fellow-ereatures, are called social; and tlio.so 
 which respect ourselves, human or hersonal viii- 
 
 TUES. 
 
 PROPOSITION L. 
 
 To inquire into the principal branches of Divine 
 Virtue. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. It is fit we should often contemplate the Divine 
 Being, since he appears by the foregoing proposi- 
 tions possessed of such illustrious perfections as 
 well deserve our most attentive thoughts ; and since 
 the knowledge of his nature must be of great use to 
 direct us in the methods of pleasing him, and se- 
 curing our own happiness. 
 
 Wriyht's Great Concern, edit. iii. p. 158 — 1C3 ; 
 edit. i. p. 151 — 157. Scott's Christian Life, 
 vol. i. p. 85—90. 
 
 2. On account of those perfections, it is fit wc 
 should humbly adore him, as infinitely superior to 
 all other beings ; and that both our souls and bodies 
 should concur in the expression of such adoration. 
 
 Wriyht, ib. edit. iii. p. 182—185 ; edit. i. p. 174 
 —177. Scott, ib. p. 91—96 ; Worhs, vol. i. 
 p. 33—36. 
 
 3. Forasmuch as God is the most amiable Being, 
 it is fit we should love him with all our heart ; i. e. 
 should think of him with the highest complacency 
 and delight ; and, as he is our great Benefactor, 
 that we should cherish the most lively sentiments 
 of gratitude towards him ; and that, seeing he is 
 the source of being and happiness, we should con- 
 sider our own happiness as centred in him. 
 
 Wriyht, ib. edit. iii. p. 200—205 ; edit. i. p. 194 
 —198. Scott, ib. p. 96—105 ; Works, vol. i. 
 p. 38 — 41. Collib. Inq. p. 11 — 17. Evans's 
 Serm. vol. i. No. viii. p. 167 — 173. Aber- 
 nethy's Sermons, vol. ii. No. x. 
 
 4. Forasmuch as God is the Author and Disposer 
 of all events, it is fit we should observe, acknow- 
 ledge, and consider, his providential interposition 
 in all the various occurrences of life. 
 
 Wriyht, ib. edit. iii. p. 163—169 ; edit. i. p. 
 157—163. 
 
 5. In consequence of this his universal providence, 
 in conjunction with his wisdom and goodness, it is 
 fit we should acquiesce in the determinations of his 
 « ill, when most contrary to our present interest or 
 natural inclinations. 
 
 Wriyht, ib. edit. iii. p. 196—199 ; edit. i. p. 
 189—194. Scott, ib. p. 115— 12G; Worhs, 
 vol. i. p. 45 — 49. 
 
 6. Considering on the one hand his power, and 
 on the other his evident and experienced wisdom 
 and goodness, it is fit we should trust ourselves to 
 his providential care, as to what is still before us. 
 
 Wriyht, ib. edit. iii. p. 206—208 ; edit. i. p. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 283 
 
 200,201. Scott, ib. p. 126—135; Works, \o\. 
 i. p. 49 — 53. Ahem. vol. ii. No. xi. 
 
 7. Seeing all our happiness does entirely depend 
 upon liis favour, it js (It we should make it our 
 highest care to please him, by complying with all the 
 intimations of his will, and by imitating the moral 
 perfections of his nature, so far as we are capable 
 of such imitation : which, as was before observed, 
 implies a regard to all the known branches of virtue 
 ( Prop. 48. <jr. 4.) ; nevertheless, when considered 
 in this particular view, it is a branch of that duty 
 which we immediately owe to God, and a regard to 
 it should run through the whole of our lives ; that 
 even our minutest actions may, as far as possible, 
 be dignified and sanctified by it. 
 
 Wright, ib. edit. iii. p. 192 — 193 ; edit. i. p. 
 
 185—189. Scott, ib. p. 105—115 ; Works, p. 
 
 41—45. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 See also on this subject the following writers : 
 Amorys Dial, on Devotion. Fordyce's Moral 
 Phil. 1. ii. § 4. Grove's Ethics, part ii. c. 
 xix. Butler s Sermons, No. xiii. xiv. Xcnoph. 
 Mem. lib. i. c. 4. lib. iv. c. 3. Beattie's Ele- 
 ments of Moral Science, vol. ii. p. 78 — 95. 
 Paley's Principles of Moral and Political 
 Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 29—109. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Faith in the Divine declarations is also a branch 
 of Divine virtue ; but cannot so properly be con- 
 sidered here, as we have not yet examined the evi- 
 dence of the Divine veracity ; and wc may add, 
 that a diligent inquiry into whatever bears any 
 striking and probable marks of a declaration from 
 Heaven, will be a natural consequence of that 
 veneration for God, that love to him, and that care 
 to please him, which were specified in the 2d, 3d, 
 and 7th steps, as branches of Divine virtue. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It is vicious to ascribe supreme divine honour to 
 any other than God alone. — Vid. Prop. 39. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It is also vicious to worship God by images, since 
 it tends to sink our conceptions of him, gr. 2, 3. 
 Limb. Theol. lib. v. c. xxxiii. Crellii Ethic. 
 lib. iii. c. vi. p. 329, 330 ; vol. iv. among the 
 Fratres Poloni. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 The desire of foreknowing future contingencies, 
 and all such astrological and magical arts, as some 
 pursue, in order to the discovery of them, are to be 
 avoided; as not only tending to vex and disquiet 
 the mind, but also, as in a degree inconsistent witli 
 the reverence, submission, and dependence, which 
 we owe to the Divine Being. 
 
 Howe's Works, vol. ii. p. 137 — 141. Turret. 
 
 loc. V. qua^st. 7. § 18. Prid. Connect, vol. ii. 
 p. 329—331. Mores Theol. Works, p. 240— 
 255. Welwood's Memoirs, p. 10.5 — 107. 
 Horace, book i. ode xi. Jennings's Anti- 
 quities, vol. i. p. 381. Limb. Theol. book v. 
 c. xxxv. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Great care should be taken, that our inquiries 
 into the nature of the blessed God be made with a 
 becoming reverence, and not in as loose and in- 
 diflerent a manner as if we were examining the 
 properties of a mathematical figure, or a mechani- 
 cal engine. 
 
 Nieuwent. Rel. Phil. vol. i. pref. § 24. Boyle 
 on Veneration, p. 1, 2. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 To blaspheme the name of God, i. e. to speak of 
 him in a manner signifying contempt, or hatred, 
 must be a most horrible degree of wickedness. 
 
 Wits. JEgyp. lib. i. c. v. § 4. lib. ii. c. xvi. § 1. 
 Barrow's Works, vol. i. p. 133 — 135. 
 
 COROLLARY 6. 
 
 Forasmuch as our obligation to these branches of 
 Divine virtue is plainly founded on the nature of 
 things, it is evident they give a very defective 
 account of virtue who confine it (as the ancients 
 generally did, and those who reject revelation often 
 do) to sobriety and benevolence ; and there is great 
 reason to believe that God as indispensably requires 
 those regards to himself before described, as he 
 does social virtue ; for though, on account of the 
 infinite perfections of his nature he cannot require 
 them for his own sake, i. e. to advance his own 
 happiness, yet his love to rectitude and order, on 
 the one hand, and his regard to the truest happiness 
 of his rational creatures, on the other, must engage 
 him absolutely to insist upon them. 
 
 Leland against Tind. vol. i. p. 236 — ^243 ; edit, 
 ii. p. 187, &c. Lecchm. Serm. on the Duty of 
 a Minister, p. .36 — 39. Glasg. edit. Leech- 
 man's Sermons, vol. i. 
 
 LECTURE LXV. 
 
 PROPOSITION LI. 
 To take a general survey of social virtue. — 
 Def. 41. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 The universal rule here is. That virtue obliges us 
 to avoid whatever would be grievous to any of our 
 fellow-creatures, if it be not neiTSsary to procure 
 some greater good; and tliat wc labour to promote 
 the happiness of all about us to the utmost of our 
 power. 
 
284 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 DF.MONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Our iialures are so constituted, tlmt we cannot 
 but approve of kind and benevolent actions, and 
 abhor those which are malevolent and cruel. 
 
 1. 2. Every man by the practice of an ill-na- 
 tured conduct, must expose himself to the hatred 
 and contempt of others. 
 
 1. 3. liy an ill-natured conduct, a man would 
 be exposed to the upbraidins's of his own mind. 
 
 4. Mutual ill ollices naturally circulate ; and it is 
 exceedingly probable that they will at last come 
 Lome to the man who allows himself in them. 
 
 Lettres Persanites, vol. 1. No. viii — xi. 
 
 Prop. 46. and Prop. 50. Gr. 7. 5. God is good ; 
 and therefore a benevolent conduct is an imitation 
 of him, and consequently a branch of virtue. 
 
 Gr. 2, 3, 4, 5. 6. It is reasonable, therefore, 
 and consequently virtuous, to avoid doing what is 
 grievous to others, and to do them all the good that 
 we can, i. e. to be as benevolent as possible. Q. 
 E. D. 
 
 Hutches. Inq. Ess. ii. § 5. p. 195—222. Pel. 
 of Nat. p. 128, 129. Puffcnd. de Off. lib. i. 
 c. viii. § 1 — 6. Beattie's Elements of Moral 
 Science, vol. ii. p. 95 — 105. Paley's Princ. 
 of Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 231 — 
 235, 241—259. 
 
 COnOLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence it appears, that the rule of loving our 
 neighbour as ourselves, is a summary view of social 
 virtue ; which, at the same time that it gives the 
 rule, suggests the reason, — as it is most apparent 
 that our conduct is to be determined, not by con- 
 sidering who the person is, with regard to whom 
 we act, but what the circumstances of his case are. 
 Religion of Nature, p. 41. Evans's Christian 
 Temper, vol. ii. p. 168—176. Butler's Serm. 
 No. xi. xii. 
 
 COROLLAIIY 2. 
 
 Since life is the foundation of happiness, virtue 
 requires that we should not only forbear taking 
 away the lives of our fellow-creatures, (unless when 
 the good of the whole requires it,) but that we should 
 be ready to preserve their lives, when we can do it 
 without exposing our own,^ — and in our own, ex- 
 posing the whole to damage at least equal to the 
 advantage that would arise from the preservation 
 of the life or lives supposed to be secured at the 
 expense of ours. 
 
 Cic. de Offic. lib. iii. c. xxiii. p. 167. Tool. edit. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 The law of universal benevolence extends also to 
 ourselves ; and consequently obliges us to take care 
 to secure our own lives, and to furnish ourselves with 
 the necessary supports of them, if it lie in our power, 
 that we may not be burthensome to others. It also 
 obliges us to act in such a manner, as to preserve 
 
 our characters fair and untainted ; for if they be 
 damaged, our capacity of being useful to others 
 will be proportionably impaired. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 This law of universal benevolence extends itself 
 even to the brutes, supposing them capable of sen- 
 sation, and consequently of pleasure and pain ; and 
 though there should be reason to suspect that the 
 arguments. Prop. 2. are not conclusive, — yet, since 
 it is dillicult, if not impossible, certainly to prove 
 that they are mere machines, a virtuous man would 
 be cautious how he abuses them, (especially since 
 they are generally supposed to have sensation,) 
 lest by any degree of cruelty towards them, a habit 
 of cruelty might be contracted or encouraged ; 
 nevertheless, as they are capable of but small de- 
 grees of happiness in comparison with man, it is fit 
 that their interests should give way to that of the 
 human species, whenever in any considerable article 
 they come in competition with each other. 
 
 Puff. Law of Nature, lib. iv. c. iii. § 6. Hale's 
 Contemplations, vol. i. p. 293 — 295. Guard. 
 vol. i. No. 61. Post. Serm. vol. i. No. 3.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM, 
 
 As we here dismiss the consideration of benevo- 
 lence in general, and proceed to particular branches 
 and effects of it,' — this seems to be the proper place 
 to touch upon the celebrated question. Whether, 
 and how far, benevolence is to be conceived as dis- 
 interested? With respect to which, the following 
 remarks seem just and rational : — 
 
 1. That every man cannot but desire his own 
 happiness, whenever he thinks of it. 
 
 2. That this happiness will be more elfcctually 
 obtained by a due regard to the public, than by 
 seeking a separate interest ; as appears by princi- 
 ples laid down above. 
 
 3. That when the connexion of self-advantage 
 with benevolent actions is thought of, it seems im- 
 possible that it should not also be intended and 
 considered {gr. 1.) ; and the principle of universal 
 benevolence, instead of forbidding, will require, 
 that some regard should be paid to it, in such a 
 circumstance. 
 
 4. That it would be very mean and ungenerous, 
 if it were possible, to seek the happiness of the pub- 
 lic without any ail'ection to it, but merely as an in- 
 strument of private good. 
 
 5. That when a man feels the highest pleasure in 
 doing good to the public, and even sacrificing his 
 own separate interest to it, he must certainly have a 
 real love for it, which may with some considerable 
 propriety be called disinterested, if it be not so in 
 the highest possible sense. 
 
 * The ol)lif;;itioii of mercy to Brute Animals lias been elaborately 
 considered by Dr. Humplirey I'rimatt, in an express Treatise on the 
 subject. Mr. Grander also published a Sermon on the .same sub. 
 ject ; wUieli, both on .iccount of its size and price, is better adapted 
 for the instruction of the lower orders of mankind. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 286 
 
 6. That as the happiness of one is of little impor- 
 tance, when compared with the happiness of all, it 
 seems reasonable that, so far as it is regarded, it 
 should not be made the chief end of actions profit- 
 able to the public, nor considered in any other view 
 than as subordinate to the good of the community, 
 of which each is but one. 
 
 7. That the benevolent affections may be so 
 strong, as to prevent any reflection upon the present 
 pleasure, and much more the future advantage, of 
 a benevolent action to ourselves. 
 
 8. That the mind is so formed, as to reflect with 
 great pleasure and delight on characters and ac- 
 tions, the consideration of which does not imme- 
 diately afl"ect our own personal interest ; and to say, 
 that our complacency in them arises from an ap- 
 prehension that the prevalency of such a temper in 
 us would be advantageous to ourselves, seems as- 
 serting an evident falsehood. 
 
 Hutch, on Pass. p. 13—26. Inq. p. 160— 1G2.* 
 
 LECTURE LXVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION LIl. 
 It is consistent with benevolence, and therefore 
 with virtue, that brute animals should be slain for 
 the food of men. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. If animal food be used with moderation, it 
 seems that hereby the happiness of mankind is pro- 
 moted. This more generous kind of food may 
 afford brisker spirits tiian a vegetable diet used 
 alone ; at least, it seems that those who have from 
 their infancy been accustomed to eat flesh, would 
 be exposed to considerable trouble and inconveni- 
 ence, if not to distempers, by entirely leaving it off. 
 
 2. The happiness of the brutes is not on the whole 
 diminished, but rather promoted, by this means ; 
 for a violent death does not seem to be nearly so 
 painful as a natural death, coming upon them by 
 the slow advances of a disease : their life, though 
 it be shortened, yet is not imbittcred with fear and 
 expectation of death, of which they seem not capa- 
 ble ; to which we may add, that out of regard to 
 our own advantage we take care to feed and defend 
 them, which renders their lives much happier than 
 they would otherwise be ; whereas, were they not 
 to be used for food, we must either destroy them 
 without eating their carcasses, to prevent their mul- 
 tiplying too fast upon us, or they would destroy 
 
 * Tlmt there is no siirh thing as (lisicttcrested benevolence, is a 
 favourite princifjle with many writers. See, on tliis side of tlie (jugs. 
 tion. Dr. Rr'iwii, in liis Second Essay on Sliaftesbnry*s Clmracterist ics, 
 and IJr. Hutherforth, in liis Moral VVritincs. On the otlicr side of the 
 qnestion are, !\Ir Ilnnie, in his Principles of Morals ; and, very recently. 
 Dr. Godwin, in his Iiirpiiry cfnicerniiiff I'otitica) Justice, Ijook iv.chap. 
 viii. p. .3H— .lei .See al.so Dr. Bcatlie's Elements of Moral .Science, 
 vol. i. p. 214— 
 
 each other, consume the vegetable creation, and 
 perhaps grow dangerous to us for want of sufficient 
 food. 
 
 It is also to be remembered, that where the cus- 
 tom of eating flesh has long prevailed, it ought not 
 to be laid aside without great and important 
 reasons ; considering what great numbers of man- 
 kind are subsisted by keeping cattle, and traffick- 
 ing in them alive or dead. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Whereas some have objected, That it is an in- 
 vasion of the rights of God, as the great Lord of 
 life, to make such havoc of the lives of brute 
 animals, it may be answered, 
 
 1. That by appointing it in the course of his pro- 
 vidence, that they should multiply so fast, God has 
 made it necessary that many of them should be 
 slain ; from whence we may reasonably argue, that 
 he allows us to kill them for food. 
 
 2. That in the various classes of animals, it seems 
 that the greater are generally supported by eating 
 the less ; not to say (what yet some have urged) 
 that the teeth and stomachs of men are so formed, 
 as to intimate that they were intended to feed upon 
 flesh. 
 
 3. The agreeable variety of tastes which God has 
 given to the flesh of many birds, beasts, and fishes, 
 is a further presumption that he designed them for 
 our food ; and consequently meant to give us a 
 liberty of taking away their lives. 
 
 4. Most vegetables, when they come to be ex- 
 amined by microscopes, swarm with multitudes of 
 small animals which live in and upon them ; — so 
 that a man who should scruple destroying animals, 
 would hardly be able to find a subsistence, at least 
 not without resigning some of the finest vegetables, 
 and so frustrating the kind purpose of Providence 
 in creating them. 
 
 Reynolds's Letters to a Deist, No. 1. prtrs. p. 
 24—61. Thomson's Spring, line 336 — 378 ; 
 Autumn, line 1089 — 1124. Ovid's Mrtum. 
 lib. XV. ver. 50 — 152. Puffen. Law of Nat. 
 lib. iv. c. iii. § 4, 5. Nat. Disp. part. i. p. 
 44 — 49. Fitzosh. Lett. No. viii. Clarke's 
 Or iff. of Evil, p. 266—295.1 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 Nevertheless, care should bo taken not fo add 
 any unnecessary circumstances of terror and pain 
 to their death, nor should we accustom ourselves to 
 sport with their lives. 
 
 Doddr. on Educ. p. 22, 23. Delany on Relig. 
 But. p. 92. Thorn. Autumn, line 360—482. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Some have objected, That several of the argu- 
 
 + Mr. IloUvell and Mr. Oswald, holli of whom have resided in the 
 East Indies, have embraced the principles of the Hindoos, and written 
 a^'ainst the nsc of animal food. Mr. Oswald in a distinct treatise, vciy 
 lately published 
 
286 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 nients used in llie proposition extend not to fish : 
 but it is answciod, Tliat if a rij;ht of killin;; terres- 
 trial animals for food be established, there seems 
 little reason for scrupling to use lisli in the like 
 manner : it seems a part of the sehemc a<?reeable 
 to the rest ; and the instinct which brinsjs tliem in 
 shoals at certain times to the shore, seems an in- 
 timation that they are intended for human use. 
 
 SCIIOLU M 4. 
 
 It seems an instance of the goodness of the Di- 
 vine Being, that he has, in tlie course of his provi- 
 dence, appointed the greater part of animals to die 
 by some sudden violence, rather than by a lingering 
 decay ; in which, on the whole, they would suffer a 
 great deal more than they can do in the few painful 
 moments whicli generally attend their death when 
 slain by men, or when devoured ))y each other ; in 
 w hich, perhaps, surprise and astonishment take oft" 
 much of the sense of pain. 
 
 LECTURE LXVII. 
 
 PROPOSITION LIII. 
 To inquire. How the parts and fruits of the earth 
 ought to be distributed for the use of its inhabit- 
 ants, before any mutual agreement is made between 
 them? i. e. considering things in a state of nature. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. If there be enough of each, every one may 
 take what he first lights on. 
 
 2. Wlien he has thus taken it, another person 
 ought not to seize upon it without his leave ; but 
 should rather take some other part not so occupied. 
 
 3. Nevertheless, if there be not enough for each, 
 he who has possessed himself of more than is ne- 
 cessary for his own subsistence, ought to impart 
 some of it to him who is not capable of thus pro- 
 viding for himself. Vid. Prop. 51. 
 
 4. If necessary supplies be denied to a person 
 incapable of providing otherwise for himself, he 
 may seize on the possessions of another ; nevertlie- 
 less, with this proviso, that no one sliall be de- 
 stroyed by such a seizure, whose life is of more 
 importance to the whole community than that of 
 the person who makes the seizure. Vid. Prop. 51. 
 Cor. 2. 
 
 5. Nevertheless, it is not requisite tliat an equal 
 distribution should be made ; since, on tlse one 
 hand, each has in common eases a right to the fruits 
 of his own industry, on the principles laid do^vn 
 above, t/r. 1, 2. and, on the other, it is for the good 
 of society in general that some should be richer 
 than the rest, seeing there are many civil offices to 
 be performed in life, which might become matter of 
 dangerous debate, if some persons were not, by the 
 
 straitncss of tlieir circumstances, induced volun- 
 tarily to perform them. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 The demonstration appears from Prop. 61. Sol. 
 and Cor. 2. for it is evident that these rules will 
 promote the happiness of mankind in general. 
 
 Locke on (iov. lib. ii. c. 6. Grot, de Jtire Belli 
 et Pac. lib. ii. c. ii. § 2. More's Utopia, p. 
 78—98. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It seems that xtsnry is not in general to be con- 
 demned, provided it be no more than is proportion- 
 able to that gain which the person borrowing 
 receives from the loan, especially among men who 
 subsist not merely by agriculture, grazing, and 
 manual arts, but by trade or merchandise; since 
 it is evident that among such, the money might 
 turn to better account to the owners than in the 
 former case ; and consequently the owners would 
 have a just claim to some equivalent, for the ad- 
 vantage they forego in favour of the borrower. 
 Nevertheless, in exacting this, virtue rc(juires a 
 compassionate regard to any calamitous circum- 
 stances which may render the borrower incapable 
 of paying interest, or perhaps the principal. 
 
 Puff. Law of Nature, lib. v. c. vii, § 8 — 12. 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. xii. § 21.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Many things continue yet common, and are not 
 become the property ef any, there being enough to 
 suffice all ; some of tliem not being capable of occu- 
 pation by one person alone, — and others such, that 
 the property of them would not be useful to any ; 
 V. g. wild beasts and birds, air-insects, sea-water. 
 Whether the sea can come into property has been 
 warmly disputed : — Grotius denies it, in his Mure 
 Liberum ; and Selden asserts, in his Mare Clau- 
 sum ; but it would be tedious and unnecessary to 
 give a view of their arguments here. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. ii. § 3 — 5. Puff'- ib. 
 lib. iv. c. V. § 5—10. 
 
 SCIIOLU M 3. 
 
 Property, in any degree, ceases when the thing 
 is abandoned by the former possessor ; and the 
 security of mankind seems to require, that wlien any 
 thing has been long in the possession of a person, 
 family, or nation, it should continue with them, if 
 for a considerable time the original possessor has 
 entered no claim upon it. Perhaps, hereby that 
 former possessor may suffer some damage ; yet there 
 would be so much room for fraud and litigation, 
 were antiquated claims often to be revived, that, on 
 the whole, they would undoubtedly occasion greater 
 trouble than advantage to mankind ; and it is im- 
 possible to lay down any general rules which would 
 
 * Mr. Ben'Ji.im has lately published a curious E.«say on tJsury ; in 
 which the English laws upon this subject are examined, and the wis- 
 floni anfl propriety of them freely dist-us^ed. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 287 
 
 not, in some instances, bear hard on the innocent 
 and virtuous. 
 
 Grot, (le Jure, lib. ii. c. iv. ^ 3—9. Puff. ib. 
 lib. iv. c. xii. § 8. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Perhaps, upon these principles, that kind of theft 
 which was permitted by the Spartan law, might be 
 justified ; as by making such a law, the proprietors 
 seemed voluntarily to have relinquished their pro- 
 perty to those who could seize it in such circum- 
 stances; but how far it was on the whole prudent to 
 do it, is difficult to determine, without stating the 
 matter more largely than would be convenient here. 
 
 RoUin Man. vol. iii. p. 340—347.* 
 
 LECTURE LXVIII. 
 
 DEFINITION XLII. 
 That verbal proposition is said to be ethic.illy 
 TRi!E, in which we join those relations, attributes, 
 or properties, which seem lo us to belong to any 
 idea, — and separate those which seem to us not to 
 belong to it ; but it is then logically true when 
 we join those that do really agree, and separate 
 those which do not. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 A proposition loyicalhj true, may be ethically false, 
 — and vice versa. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Propositions directly contrary to each other, in the 
 mouths of dillerent persons, may both be ethically, 
 though not logically, true. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Ethical truth is sometimes divided into veracity, 
 i. e. a conformity of our words to our thoughts ; and 
 faithfulness, i. e. a conformity of our actions to our 
 words. The last .seems to be limited to words ex- 
 pressing a purpose of doing ijood to another. 
 DEFLNITION XLllI. 
 That proposition, in which we culpably violate 
 ethical truth, is said to be a lie. 
 
 Puff. ib. lib. iv. c. 1. § 8. 
 PROPOSITION LIV. 
 Virtue requires that ethical trutli should be pre- 
 served among men, in their discourses with each 
 other. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 1. Speech maybe useful in spreading the know- 
 ledge of those things which may advance the hap- 
 piness of mankind. 
 
 * Some sin^i.Inr opinions witli rcsard to property .ire advanrf,! l,y 
 ™- '" '"quiry concerning Politiral Justice, vr,l ii. p. 
 
 All \,, "''9''',":<= "f Proporty is parliciiLirly ronsi.leri-U by 
 Arrl,il.-aoon Paley, m his Moral anil Political Pliilosoiihy, b. lii. cliaif. 
 I (ol 1. p. lOj— 12>. scvonlli ediii;,!, ' ■' ' 
 
 2. In order to render it thus useful, it is neces- 
 sary that a person should be believed. 
 
 3. If ethical truth be not regarded, the person 
 speaking cannot be believed. 
 
 4. The violation of ethical trutli has generally 
 been regarded as infamous; and persons who allow 
 themselves in it, do thereliy necessarily subject 
 themselves to great contempt, and so greatly impair 
 both their comfort and usefulness. 
 
 1,2,3,4. 5. Valet propositlo. 
 
 Puff. ib. § 7, 10. Wutts's Sermons, vol. ii. 
 p. 168 — 170 ; Works, vol. i. p. 226. Grot, 
 de Jure, lib. iii. c. i. § 11. Grove's Ethics, 
 vol. ii. part ii. c. xi. Paley's Principles of 
 Moral and Political Philosophy, vol. i. p. 
 184—189. 7th edition. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It is injurious to virtue to allow ourselves to 
 abuse the ambiguity of words in such a manner as 
 thereby to lead others iTito a mistake, since most of 
 the ill consequences which follow from direct lying, 
 do also follow from such equivocations and mental 
 reservations. 
 
 Puff. ib. § 13, 14. Grot. ib. § 10. Burnet's 
 Essay on Queen Mary, p. 63, 64. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Virtue forbids our deceiving others by actions, as 
 well as by words ; since the reasoning of the propO' 
 sition does not depend upon making use of articu» 
 late sounds, or written characters, but upon any 
 method taken to communicate our ideas to each 
 other.— Puff. ib. § 2. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this some have added a further argument, 
 taken from the nature of ethical truth, which, sepa- 
 rate from all its effects, seems to imply something 
 in it so sacred, that a violation of it is dishonour- 
 able and contemptible, and therefore vicious, though 
 no damage should arise to ourselves or others from 
 such a violation ; especially, considering that God 
 is the Witness of every falsehood ; and consequent- 
 ly it is a kind of indignity offered to him, to utter any 
 thing in his presence which he knows to be contrary 
 to our own knowledge. This some have expressed, 
 by saying God has given us a sense, by which wc 
 unavoidably delight in the truth ; nor is it in our 
 own power so far to reconcile ourselves to falsehood, 
 as to approve of a scheme in which any given de- 
 gree of happiness should be produced by falsehood, 
 so well as one in which it should be produced by 
 truth. 
 
 Baly. Law of Truth, p. 4—12 ; Tracts, p. 37.3— 
 .383. Butler's Anal. p. 316—318. 4to. edit. ; 
 8vo edit. iii. p. 462 — 46'}. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 From hence arises a question of considerable dif- 
 
288 . A COURSE C 
 
 liculty and importance, Wlu tlicr it may be in any 
 case lawful to speak w liat is ethically false? 
 
 Those who maintain tlie principles of tlie fanner 
 scholium must deny it ; but those who place the 
 oblifiation to ethical truth, merely on the principles 
 laid down in the proposition, allirm, That if, in any 
 case, the happiness of mankind may be more 
 eflectually promoted by falsehood than truth, in 
 that case, falsehood ceases to be a vice, and be- 
 comes a virtue; and they suppose that many such 
 cases actually occur; and that, on these principles, 
 it is lawful to use falsehood in our discourses with 
 persons that are distracted, with infants and sick 
 men, w ith a melancholy man, and those who inquire 
 after the truth, with a design of doinj; that injury 
 by tlic knowledge of it, which without it they 
 would not have been able to eflect. 
 
 This must be acknow Icdged a controversy of very 
 great dilliculty. Perhaps, it is not possible for any 
 human or finite understanding to determine, Whether 
 the universal observation of truth would be more 
 for the advantage of the rational creation, than the 
 violation of it in some imaginable particulars ? but 
 as it is certain that the generality of mankind arc 
 too prone to artilicc and deceit, and w ould be ready 
 to abuse the doctrine of the innocence of falsehood 
 in any case, we should be very cautious of main- 
 taining it; and an honest, generous, and religious 
 man, if he errs at all, would rather choose to err on 
 the side of truth ; and perhaps a regard expressed 
 to it, even in circumstances where it could not be 
 maintained, without great danger and seeming ill 
 conse(iucnce to ourselves, might make such impres- 
 sions on the minds of very bad men, as miglit prove 
 of service to the cause of virtue and the happiness 
 of mankind ; especially considering the unlimited 
 power which God has over all the thoughts of men's 
 hearts, and all the circumstances and occurrences 
 of their lives : and it will be seen, when we come 
 to inquire into the evidence of the Divine veracity, 
 that this attribute of the Deity is incapable of being 
 proved, if the opinion which we are here opposing 
 be admitted. To all which we may add, that the 
 supposed lawfulness of speaking falsely in great 
 emergencies for the preservation of life, might also 
 be extremely mischievous to mankind, by depriv- 
 ing them of all instances of martyrdom for religion ; 
 and is, indeed, a maxim so dangerous to human 
 society, that it seems that a wise and benevolent 
 man, who firmly believes it, would on his own 
 principles teach the contrary. And, after all, if the 
 principle itself were granted, yet many of the in- 
 stances mentioned above, seem of too trivial a 
 nature to justify having recourse to a falsehood ; 
 and in particular, nothing can be more dangerous 
 to children than to be taught to lie, by the example 
 of their parents and governors. 
 
 Puff: ib. % 9, 10, 15, 16, 18. Barheyrac's Notes, 
 
 F LECTURES 
 
 ib. lib. iv. c. i. § 7. Grot. ib. lib. iii. c. i. § 
 12 — 14. Watts's Sei ni. vol. ii. ; App. p. 207 
 —219; Works, vol. i. p. 240—245. Rel. of 
 Nat. p. 29, 30. Cainbr. Tvlemacli. 1. iii. p. 
 57—59. 
 
 SCIIOLll'M 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, allowance is to be made for the 
 change which custom may have introduced into the 
 signilication of words, which has brought some ex- 
 pressions of complaisan(!c and kindness, in most 
 civilized nations, to so loose an import, that a man 
 has no room to imagine they will be interpreted 
 rigorously, according to their utmost literal extent, 
 and therefore need not be scrupulous about the use 
 of them ; V. y. as if he could not say " he was at a 
 friend's service," unless he intended thereby to 
 make himself a slave. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, I. iv. e. i. § fi. Sped. vol. viii. 
 No. .5.57. Tillots. vol. ii. p. 5, 6. 
 
 LECTURE LXIX. 
 
 DEFINITION XLIV. 
 
 A PROMISE is aity speech, or other sign, by which 
 we signify to another person a present determinate 
 purpose of transferring to him a part of our pro- 
 perty or liberty, which nevertheless he is not actually 
 to possess till after some time. 
 
 DEFINITION XLV. 
 
 A mutual promise, or agreement of two or more 
 persons with each other, may be called a covenant, 
 whether the performance of one of the parties be or 
 be not the condition of obliging the otlicr ; but it is 
 in the former case called a conditional covenant. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 There is some foundation for distinguishing be- 
 tween conditional promises, and pacts or covenants ; 
 not only, as each party in a covenant may be abso- 
 lutely bound to the performance of his part, without 
 w aiting to see whether the other will perform his, — 
 but also, as there may be a conditional promise, 
 which is not mutual, — whereas every covenant must 
 necessarily be mutual. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, 1. iii. c. viii. ^ 8. 
 
 PROPOSITION LV. 
 
 Virtue requires that promises be fulfdled. 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 54. 1. Ethical truth, and therefore virtue, 
 requires, that when T declare a fixed purpose of 
 giving or doing any thing, I should really intend it. 
 
 Gr. 1 . Def. 44. 2. The promisee, i. e. tlie person 
 to whom the promise is made, acquires a property 
 in virtue of the promise. 
 
 .). The uncertainty of property would evidently 
 be attended with great inconvenience. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 289 
 
 4. By failing to fulfil my promise, I either show 
 that I w as not sincere in making it, or that I have 
 little conslancyor resolution ; and either way injure 
 my character, and consequently my usefulness in 
 life. 
 
 1, 3, and 4. Prop. 51. Cor. 4. 5. Virtue re- 
 quires that promises should he fulfilled. 
 
 Watts's Sarin, vol. ii. p. 146 ; Works, vol. i. p. 
 140. Grove's Ethics, vol. ii. part ii. c. xii.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 A man is not hound by a naked assertion, as he 
 is by a promise ; nevertheless, when he makes such 
 an assertion, he ought to intend to act according to 
 it (Prop. 54.) ; and when publicly made, he should 
 not lightly change it, lest his character for wisdom 
 and resolution should thereby suffer. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, 1. ii. c. xi. § 2 — 4. Puff- ib. 
 I. iii. 0. V. § 5 — 7. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Nevertheless, there are some excepted cases, in 
 which virtue does not oblige us to fulfil our pro- 
 mises, because the reasons mentioned in the pro- 
 position do not extend to them, v. 'g. 
 
 1. If a promise was made by us, beforo we came 
 to such exercise of reason as to be fit to transact 
 affairs of moment ; or if by any distemper, or sud- 
 den surprise, we are deprived of the exercise of our 
 reason, at the time when the promise is made. 
 
 Puff. ib. 1. iii. c. vi. § 5. Grot, de Jure, 1. ii. 
 c. xi. § 5 — 7. 
 
 2. If the promise made was on a false presump- 
 tion, in which the promiser, after the most diligent 
 inquiry, was imposed upon, especially if he were 
 deceived by the fraud of the promisee. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, 1. ii. c. xi. § 6. 1. ii. c. xiii. § 4. 
 Puff\ ib. 1. iii. c. vi. § 6—8. 
 
 3. If the thing itself be vicious ; for virtue can- 
 not require that vice should be committed. 
 
 Puff', ib. 1. iii. c. vii. § 6, 7. Grot. ib. 1. ii. c. 
 xi. § 9. 
 
 Under this head, we may rank the giving a re- 
 ward for an evil action. 
 
 Grot. ib. I. ii. c. xi. § 8. Puff- ib. 1. iii. c. vii. | 8. 
 
 4. If the accomplishment of the promise be so 
 hard and intolerable, that there is reason to believe 
 that, had it hcen foreseen, it would have been an 
 excepted case. 
 
 6'rof. ib. 1. ii. c. xvi. ^27. Cicero de Offic.X. 'i. c. x. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 If the promise be not accepted, or if it depend on 
 conditions not performed, the non-performance of 
 the promise is .so evidently justifiable, that it seems 
 
 • A directly opposite doctrine to what is licrc advanced, is main- 
 tained by Mr. (^idwin. .Sec his " In(|uiry conccriiins,' I'ohtical Jus- 
 tice," vol. i. |>. 150— IM, The deduction is, tliat it is a part of our 
 duty to inalie as few promises, or declarations, exciting appropriate 
 expectations, as possible. 
 
 hardly worth while to insert this among the cata- 
 logue of excepted cases. 
 
 Grot. ib. 1. ii. c. xi. § 14, 15. 1. iii. c. xix. § 14. f 
 
 LECTURE LXX. 
 
 DEFINITION XLVi. 
 An oath is a solemn appeal to God, as the Wit- 
 ness of the truth of some facts asserted, or of our 
 sincere resolution to perform some promise made, 
 renouncing our claim to the Divine favour, or im- 
 precating his displeasure upon ourselves, either 
 implicitly or explicitly, in case of falsehood. 
 
 C0R0LL.\RY. 
 
 It is vicious to swear by any creature, since that 
 is in effect ascribing to such a creature a degree of 
 knowledge and power, which seems peculiar to 
 God. Nevertheless, if without the express men- 
 tion of the name of God, there be a secret appeal 
 to him, in that case we swear by him ultimately, 
 and not so much by the creature we mention, v. g. 
 If I swear by my head, or my child, — meaning 
 thereby, " May the Divine vengeance fall on my 
 head, or my child, if I swear falsely !" 
 
 Grot, de Jure, 1. ii. c. xiii. § 11. Puff, de Offic. 
 Horn. 1. i. c. xi. § 3. Puff - de Jure, I. iv. c. 
 ii. § 3. Paley's Moral and Political Philoso- 
 phy, vol. i. p. 190 — 197. Godwin's Inquiry 
 concerning Political Justice, vol. ii. p. 631 
 —630. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 A wow IS a promise made to God. If any express 
 or implicit imprecation attend it, it is evidently an 
 oath : but as vows arc made with different degrees 
 of solemnity, some of them may, and some of them 
 may not, be oaths. Yet, as an address to God is 
 made by them, they necessarily approach nearer to 
 an oath than a promise made to our fellow-crea- 
 tures. 
 
 Paley's Moral and Political Philos. vol. i. p. 
 141. 
 
 DEFINITION XI.VII. 
 Perjury is the use of an oath in confirmation of 
 an assertion, known, apprehended, or suspected, to 
 be false ; or the wilful violation of a promise, which 
 by an oath we had bound ourselves to perform. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 As when a person swears that a thing is so and 
 so, he is in all reason to be understood to assert 
 that he certainly knows that it is so : the guilt of 
 
 + Tile whole subject of promises; from whence the obligation to 
 perform tliem arises ; in what sense they arc to he interpreted; and iu 
 what ca.ses they arc not hindinsr, is considered by Mr. I'aley. Princi- 
 ples of Moral and Political Philosophy, vol. i. p. 123—111. seventh 
 edition. 
 
 U 
 
380 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 perjury may be contracted, even whore a man 
 believes a thing is as ho asserts, if he has not a 
 competent ami determinate knowledjje of the thiiii;. 
 
 riUMH^SmON LVl. 
 
 I'orjury is a very heinous crime. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. It is plainly inconsistent with tlic reverence 
 due to the Divine lieinii;; as it implies, cither that 
 we do not believe his omniscience, or fear his dis- 
 pleasure ; either of which is contrary to Prop. 51. 
 
 2. Mankind have in all a^es professed some pe- 
 enliar rovercnee for an oath ; so that it has been 
 used to determine controversies, and seal the most 
 .solemn mutual enivasements. 
 
 '2. 3. Faith among men would be still more in- 
 jured by pcrjurj', than by a false assertion, or pro- 
 mise uttered without an oath ; since, therefore, these 
 have been shown to be detrimental to mankind, 
 (^Prop. 54, 55.) this must be yet more so. 
 
 4. Perjury has always been considered a very 
 detestable thing ; and those who have been proved 
 guilty of it, have been looked upon as the pests of 
 society. 
 
 1, 3, and 4. 5. Perjury, being thus dishonour- 
 able to God, injurious to others, and to ourselves, is 
 a great crime. Q. E. D. 
 
 Occrts. Paper, vol. i. No. vii. p. 5 — 12. Pi{fi'- 
 de Jure, 1. iv. c. ii. § 2. Barrow's Works, 
 vol. i. Serm. xv. Palei/'s Moral and Politi- 
 cal Philosophy, vol. i. p. 197, 198. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Care should be taken that we do not impair the 
 reverence due to an oath, by using or imposing oaths 
 upon trifling occasions, or administering them in a 
 careless manner. Occas. Paper, ib. p. 22 — 24. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 The reverence of an oath requires, that we take 
 peculiar care to avoid ambiguous expressions in it, 
 and all equivocation and mental reservation. Vid. 
 Prop. 54. Cor. 1. 
 
 Gi-ot. de Jure, 1. ii. e. xiii. § 3. Puff- de Jure, 
 1. iv. e. ii. § 12—15. Tully de Offic. 1. i. ^ 13. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Something of this kind may be said of subscrip- 
 tion to articles of religion, these being looked upon 
 as solemn actions, and nearly approaching to an 
 oath. Great care ought to be taken that we sub- 
 scribe nothing that we do not firmly believe. If the 
 signification of the words be dubious, and we be- 
 lieve either sense, and that sense in which we do 
 believe them is as natural as the other, we may con- 
 sistentl}' with integrity subscribe them ; or, if the 
 sense in which we believe them be less natural, 
 and we explain that sense, and that explication be 
 admitted by the person requiring the subscription 
 in his own right, there can be no just foundation 
 
 for a scruple. Some have added, that if we have 
 reason tobelieve(though it is not expressly declared) 
 that he who imposes the subscription, docs not 
 intend that wc should hereby declare our assent to 
 those articles, but only that we should i)ay a com- 
 pliment to his authority, and engage ourselves not 
 openly to contradict them, we may in this case sub- 
 scribe what is most directly contrary to our belief: 
 or, that if we declare our belief in any book, as for 
 instance the Bible, it is to be supposed that we sub- 
 scribe other articles, only so far as they arc consist- 
 ent with that ; because we cannot imagine that the 
 law would require us to profess our belief of con- 
 trary propositions at the same time : but subscrip- 
 tion upon these principles, seeujs a verj' dangerous 
 attack upon sincerity and public virtue, especially 
 in those designed for public ollices.* 
 
 Burnett on the Art. p. 0 — 9. Clarke on the 
 
 Trinity, Introd. edit. 1. p. 20—26 ; ed. 2. p. 
 
 23 — 2.0. Conjh. Serm. on Subscript, p. 
 
 21—31. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 If wc have bound ourselves by an oath to do a 
 thing detrimental to our interests, we ought to sub- 
 rait to great inconveniences rather than violate it ; 
 but if the nature of the oath be absolutely and 
 evidently unlawful, we are not bound by it : and it 
 is certain, that in some of the eases mentioned 
 above, in which virtue allows the violation of pro- 
 mises, it may also permit our acting contrary to our 
 oaths ; with this proviso, that in proportion to the 
 greater solemnity of the latter, the ease should be 
 more weighty and urgent. 
 
 Grot. ib. 1. ii. c. xiii. ^ 4. Baxt. Works, vol. i. 
 p. 572. Puff.de Jure, 1. iv. c. ii. § 9, 10. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 If a conditional covenant {Def. 45.) be mutually 
 confirmed by an oath, the breach of the condition 
 on one side evidently dissolves the other party from 
 his obligation; which by the way justifies the Re- 
 volution in England in 1688, though many of the 
 persons principally concerned bad sworn allegiance 
 to King James. 
 
 Occas. Paper, vol. i. No. vii. p. 12 — 16. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Grotius is mistaken, if he maintains (as some 
 have asserted he does) that by an oath we always 
 promise something to God ; and that for this reason 
 
 * The question concerning subscription to articles of religion litis of 
 late years received tlie most ample discussion. It would be almost 
 endless to enumerate the various tracts that have appeared on the 
 subject. The controversy was revived by the publication of the "Con- 
 fessional," and carried on to still greater extent, l)y the distinct appli- 
 cations of a body of the clerffy, and of the protestant dissenting minis, 
 ters, for relief in the matter of subscription. The names of Blackburn, 
 ,Iebb, IJawson, Firebrace, Wyvil, Mauduit, Furncaux, Fowncs, Had. 
 elin; Wilton, and many others, occur in opposition to human articles 
 ofrelision. On the contrary side niiglit be mentioned Tucker, 
 Rulherfortti, Randolph, Tottie, Powel, and a variety of writers besides. 
 IMr. I'aley has recently ollered some thoughts on the matter, in his 
 " Moral and Political Philosophy," vol. i. p. 218—220. Still more 
 recently, a very elaborate treatise against subscription has been pub. 
 1 lislied by Mr. Dvcr. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 291 
 
 an oath must in no case be violated. It appears 
 from the definition of an oath, that the former of 
 these propositions is false ; and from the second 
 scholium, that if it were true, the inference drawn 
 from it would be inconclusive : but the following 
 passage, which some have quoted to prove this to 
 be his opinion, is far from containing it. 
 
 Grot. (Ic Jure, 1. ii. c. xiii. § 14, 15. 
 
 LECTURE LXXI. 
 
 DEFINITION XL VIII. 
 Marriage is a covenant between man and 
 woman, in which they mutually promise cohabita- 
 tion, and a continual care to promote the comfort 
 and happiness of each other. 
 
 PROPOSITION LVII. 
 Virtue requires that mankind should only be pro- 
 pagated by marriage. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. A more endearing friendship, and consequently 
 a greater pleasure, arises from continued cohabita- 
 tion, than could arise from the promiscuous use of 
 women ; where there could be little room for a ten- 
 der, generous, and faithful friendship between the 
 sexes. 
 
 2. The promiscuous use of women would naturally 
 produce a great deal of jealousy, bitter mutual 
 contentions, and a variety of other passions, from 
 which marriage, when preserved inviolate, very 
 much secures. 
 
 Experience teaches that a promiscuous commerce 
 between the sexes is very unfavourable to propa- 
 gation, at least for producing a healthful ollspring ; 
 and would prove the means of spreading to a fatal 
 degree the venereal infection. 
 
 4. The weakness and disorders to which women 
 are subject during pregnancy, require that, both 
 out of regard to them and the future race of man- 
 kind, they should be tenderly taken care of ; and 
 that during their confinement they should be com- 
 fortably maintained. Now there is none from whom 
 these offices of friendship can be so reasonably ex- 
 pected, as from the person who apprehends himself 
 the father of the child ; but without marriage, no 
 man could ordinarily have the security of being so. 
 
 5. The education of children is much better pro- 
 vided for by this means, both with respect to main- 
 tenance, instruction, and government, while each 
 knows his own, and the care and authority of both 
 parents concur in the work ; to which that of the 
 father is generally, on the whole, of the greatest 
 importance. 
 
 6. The regular descent of patrimony being the 
 conse(iaenec of fathers knowing their children, is 
 
 u 2 
 
 better provided for by marriage than it could be 
 without it ■; wliich, by the way, is a great encourage- 
 ment to industry and frugality. 
 
 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. 7. The happiness both of 
 men and women, and of the rising generation, is on 
 the whole more effectually secured by marriage than 
 it would be by the promiscuous use of women ; 
 therefore, mankind ought only to be propagated 
 this way. Q. E. D. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, 1. vi. c. i. § 5. Wits. ^gypt. 1. 
 
 ii. c. vi. §13—15. Bart. TFor/i*, vol. 1. p. 314, 
 
 A ; vol. ii. p. 31, B. Ostervald of Unclean. 
 
 § 1. c. i. ; § 2. p. 4 — 10. Fordijcc's Mor. 
 
 Phil. 1. ii. § 3. c. ii. Milt. Parad. Lost, 1. 
 
 iv. line 750—770.* 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Those unnatural lusts, commonly known by the 
 names of Bestiality and Sodomy, are to be greatly 
 detested, not only as actions whereby the dignity of 
 human nature is in the most infamous degree de- 
 based, but also as alienating the mind from mar- 
 riage, which is so important a band of society. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Those who seduce single women to violate their 
 chastity, are guilty of a very great crime ; as thereby 
 they discountenance marriage, and bring on persons 
 so debauched, and the families to whom they are 
 related, great calamity and indelible infamy. 
 
 Guardian, vol. ii. No. 123. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 All those things which tend to cherish wander- 
 ing lusts, are for that reason to be avoided ; as las- 
 civious actions and unclean words, which generally 
 lead on by a strong impulse to greater irregularities. 
 Spectator, vol. iv. No. 28G. Osterv. of Unclean. 
 Preef. p. 16 ; ib. sect. 1. c. vii. p. 60 — 72. 
 Evans's Ser-mons, vol. ii. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Since marriage is of so great importance to the 
 happiness of mankind, it is plain that it ought not 
 to be dissolved upon any trifling consideration ; 
 since uncertain marriages would be attended with 
 many of the same inconveniences as the promis- 
 cuous use of women, and would differ from it little 
 more than in name. 
 
 Puff", de Jure, lib. vi. c. i. § 20. 
 
 LECTUKE LXXII. 
 
 PROPOSITION LVUI. 
 To enumerate the principal duties of the married 
 state. 
 
 * Some <xtraor<Iin.iry sentiments relative^ to marriage have been 
 Ihrowii out by iMr. (ioilwin, in bis " Inquiry lonccining Political 
 Justice," vol. ii. p. 848—852. 
 
•292 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 soi.r rioN. 
 
 1 . \ iiliu- ii'i|iiires tliiit both parties preserve theii 
 fidelity' to eneli other inviolate. 
 
 2. They should studj in everj instance to pio- 
 niote eaeh other's eonifort and happiness. 
 
 3. They arc to contrihiite tlieir respective parts 
 towards the niaintcnanee and ediieation of tlieir 
 children. 
 
 Dilany on Rflat. Dut. No. ii. iii. Pahijs 
 Principles of Moral and Political Philoso- 
 phy, vol. i. p. 339 — 344. Beatties Elements 
 of Moral Science, vol. ii. p. 131 — l l(). 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 The obligation to perform these several duties 
 arises from the nature of the engagements into 
 which the parties have entered {Def. 48.) ; and 
 from the tendency which such a conduct will have 
 to secure their mutual happiness and that of tlieir 
 families. 
 
 PROPOSITION LIX. 
 V irtue requires that no man should at the same 
 time have more than one v. ife, — and no woman more 
 than one husband. 
 
 PART 1. 
 
 No man should have moie than one wife at a 
 time. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 1. The number of females, so far as we can judge 
 by the best computation, is not entirely equal to the 
 number of males, in the human species. Vid. Prop. 
 '27. Dem. 4. gr. 4. 
 
 Derham's Phys. Theol. p. 175, 17G. Reflect, on 
 Polytj. p. 4—7. 
 
 1. 2. Should polygamy prevail, there would not 
 be females enow to supply all the males; conse- 
 quently many of them must be deprived of the ad- 
 vantage of marriage, — not to mention how far it 
 might be the occasion of those hateful and destruc- 
 tive practices of Sodomy and Eviration. 
 
 Reflect, on Pohjg. p. 32 — ^34. 
 
 2. 3. Quarrels would probably arise between 
 those men who endeavoured to possess themselves 
 of more women than one, and those who were by 
 this means deprived of partners in life ; w hich might 
 l)C attended w ith fatal consequences on both sides, 
 should polygamy very much prevail. 
 
 4. The jealousy of tlie wives would probably 
 make them very unhappy, were several women to 
 share among them the alTeetion and care of the 
 same man ; and it would occasion many caballings, 
 and mutual endeavours to supplant each other in 
 his affections, by which the peace of families would 
 be greatly disturbed ; not to mention the frequent 
 adulteries that might be expected, if there was not 
 a strict guard. Vid. Gen. xxix. xxx. 
 
 5. The discords of the mothers might be commu- 
 nicated to the children ; and so not only alienate 
 
 their hearts from the father, and tliereby prevent 
 the ellicaey of his care for their education, but also 
 prevent a due harmony between them in riper years, 
 and lay a foundation for quarrels to be transmitted 
 to the next generation. 
 
 (J. The master of the family would have his part 
 in all this uneasiness; and would find it hardly 
 possible to preserve his own quiet in any tolerable 
 degree, without sacrilicing the peculiar pleasure of 
 having one intimate and best beloved friend, with 
 whom to converse with the highest endearment : 
 and if he had any true taste of the sublimest 
 pleasures of friendship, the gratification of appetite 
 with a variety of women must appear but a poor 
 equivalent for such a sacrifice. 
 
 7. The practice of polygamy may leave room to 
 a married man to be continually entering upon new 
 amours and treaties with respect to other women ; 
 which would keep the mind in an uneasy agitation, 
 and greatly divert him from applying to cares of the 
 greatest importance to the happiness of his family 
 and of the public, and expose him thereby to many 
 obvious inconveniences. 
 
 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7. 8. Since polygamy is thus 
 pernicious to the interest of the husband, wife, and 
 children, and, if it commonly prevailed, to that of so 
 many single persons, virtue requires that one man 
 should have but one wife at a time. Q. E. D. 
 
 Burn. Life of Rochest. p. 112, 113. Puff, de 
 Jure, lib. vi. c. i. § IG — 19. Salm. State of 
 Turkey, p. 411 — 116. Reflect, on Polyg. p. 
 13 — 19. L' Esprit de Loix, vol. i. lib. xvi. 
 e. ii — vii.* 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It is yet more evidently unlawful for him who 
 has married one wife, with a promise of confine- 
 ment to her, afterwards to take a second. Vid. 
 Prop. 53. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Some have argued in favour of the proposition. 
 That it would prevent the over-stocking the world 
 with inhabitants, which would be the consequence 
 of polygamy ; but we have waved that argument, — 
 
 1. Because it seems that the contrary is true, i. e. 
 that the number of mankind is lessened rather than 
 increased by polygamy, which is a direct conse- 
 
 * The question concerning Polygamy has recently been revived, in 
 consequence of an elabonite treatise in defence of it, written by the late 
 Mr. Martin Madan, and entitled, Thelyphthora. To this work many 
 answers a)»peared, among which may be reckoned, Polytramy Uiiscri[)- 
 tural, by John Towers ; Remarks on Polygamy, by Thomas Wills ; 
 Polygamy Indefensible, by John Smith ; Kcmarks on Thclvphtliora, 
 by James Penn ; Blessings of Polygamy displayed, by U. (lill ; Ex- 
 amination of Thelyphthora, by John Palmer; and Refutation of 
 Polygamy, by T. Ilaweis. Tliere were, also, several anonymous pub- 
 lications on the subject, of which it may be suflicient to mention Anti- 
 Thelyphthora ; Marriage and its Vows Defended, by a Female ; The 
 Unlawfulness of Polygamy evinced ; and the Cobbler's Letter to the 
 Author of Thelyphthora. But the most decisive blow that was given 
 to the Tlielypbthora, was in two articles which occur in the sixty-lliird 
 volume of the Monthly Review. These articles were written by liic 
 late Rev. Samuel Badcock. Some General Reflections on Polygamy 
 may be seen in Paley's Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, 
 vol. i. p. 319—325; and in Beattie's Elements of Moral Science, vol. 
 ii. p. 127—129. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 293 
 
 quencc from rp ad. 1. ; for it is plain, that ten women, 
 for instance, would be like to have more children 
 by ten men, than by one, especially in some length 
 of j'ears ; considering how much the body might 
 be weakened by that luxury with which seraglios 
 are generally attended : and accordingly it is found 
 in fact, that there is the greatest increase of men 
 where polygamy is not used, as the author of the 
 Reflections on that subject has proved, in an accu- 
 rate and convincing manner. But, 
 
 2. If it were fact that polygamy would increase 
 the number of mankind, it would be an argument 
 for it, rather than against it ; for it is certain, the 
 earth with proper cultivation would be capable of 
 maintaining a much greater number of inhabitants 
 than at present subsist upon it ; and so many general 
 calamities have from age to age interposed to thin 
 their numbers, that it is hardly to be imagined they 
 will ever grow insupportably great. In the mean 
 time, that polygamy lessens the number, is an 
 additional argument that it is contrary to the 
 happiness of the species, and therefore to virtue. 
 
 Reflect, on Polyg. Diss. vi. vii. 
 PART 2. 
 
 One woman should have but one husband at a time. 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Several of the arguments urged in the pre- 
 ceding demonstration will ( mut. mutandis ) prevail 
 here ; especially those taken from the proportion of 
 the sexes, mutual jealousy, and the want of pecu- 
 liar endearments arising from one most intimate 
 friend. 
 
 2. The offspring would be thereby rendered un- 
 certain, and healthful propagation prevented, by 
 which the main purposes of marriage would be 
 evidently defeated. Prop. 57. 
 
 1 and 2. 3. Valet pi opositio. 
 
 Pvff. ib. lib. vi. c. i. § 15. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M. 
 
 This has appeared so intolerable a thing, that it 
 has hardly been practised by any nation on earth, 
 unless some very barbarous people are to be ex- 
 cepted. On the contrary, it has almost universally 
 been made a main branch of the marriage covenant, 
 that with regard to matrimonial converse, a wife 
 should be the property of one husband alone ; and 
 those women have been accounted infamous who 
 have violated this engagement. 
 
 L' Esprit dcs Loix, vol. i. HI), xvi. c. v. Temple's 
 Hist, of Engl. p. 14— IG. 
 
 LECTURE LXXIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION LX. 
 To inquire to wliom virtue prohibits marriage. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. In general it is not advisable that marriage 
 should be contracted by those who, by teason of 
 their unripe age, or some natural or accidental de- 
 fect in their understanding, are destitute of reason, 
 and so incapable of making a proper choice, or 
 behaving themselves aright in the conjugal state. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, lib. vi. c. i. § 20. 
 
 2. It is prohibited to those who are evidently in- 
 capable of propagation, unless they marry with 
 others in the like condition with themselves : other- 
 wise, by their incapacity, the great end of marriage 
 would be frustrated, and a foundation laid for 
 a perpetual jealousy, and many other irregular 
 passions. 
 
 Puff", ib. § 25. Ricaut's Ott. Court, p. 293. 
 Lettrcs Persaiines, No. 41. 
 
 3. To those who labour undef any distemper of 
 body, or distraction of mind, which would probably 
 be conveyed to their offspring. 
 
 4. To those who are already married, and whose 
 consorts are yet living, virtue forbids marriage, 
 upon the principles of the preceding proposition, 
 while the former marriage continues undissolved : 
 and whereas, among us, one man and one woman 
 have been mutually appropriated to each other, ii 
 is yet more evidently and universally unlawful for 
 either to marry a third person, without the consent 
 of the other, as it is a breach of the marriage 
 covenant. Whether it may be lawful when such 
 consent is gained, even supposing the preceding 
 proposition to hold good, i. e. whether marriage 
 may be dissolved by mutual consent ? will be in- 
 quired in the next proposition. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. v. § 11. 
 
 5. It has generally been said, that marriage is 
 unlawful to those who are nearly allied by blood or 
 affinity. The chief reasons assigned against such 
 maiTiages arc, 
 
 1 . That in some cases, the duties of other relations 
 would be plainly confounded by them,— as in case 
 of a mother's marrying her son. 
 
 2. Friendship by this means would be less widely 
 diffused, and covetous parents would hinder their 
 wealth from being communicated, perhaps on these 
 principles even forcing the cider brethren to marry 
 their sisters, however contrary to their inclination ; 
 which must be the source of great calamity to 
 them, as well as detriment to others. 
 
 3. By prohibiting these marriages, provision is 
 made against some temptations to uncliastify, arising 
 from the more frequent converse of near relations. 
 
 4. There seems to be something generally in the 
 constitution of our natures abhorring such mar- 
 riages, if the relations are near, — which has rcn- ' 
 dered them infamous among most civilized nations : 
 though, it must be owned, the Egyptians and Per- 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 sians wcir an exception to this rule: liowover, 
 among the European nations, it prevails in its full 
 force. 
 
 Pvjf. ib. § -28, 32, 34. L'Esj)rit des Loi.v, vol. 
 ii. lib. xxvi. c. xiv. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Notwithstanding what has been said, it must be 
 owned very dillieult to fix the dcfrrees of adinity, 
 or consanfjuinity, within whieh marriage is unlaw- 
 ful ; and if mankind ever have been, or should be, 
 iu such cireunistances, that a brother could have no 
 wife but his own sister, most of the arguments 
 urged above would cease, and the rest must give 
 way to such a necessity.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The argument urged gr. 5. concludes nmch more 
 strongly against marrying with those nearly related 
 by hluod than by allinity. Puff. ib. § 35. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXl. 
 
 To inquire in what cases marriage may be rightly 
 dissolved. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. It is no doubt dissolved by the adultery of 
 either party ; whieh is an apparent breach of the 
 most fundamental article of the covenant. Def. 48. 
 and Prop. 55. 
 
 2. For the same reason, it is dissolved upon the 
 obstinate desertion of one of the parties, since 
 thereby the covenant is also broken. 
 
 Life of Galeacius Caracciolus.-f 
 
 3. It is questioned whether marriage may be dis- 
 solved, on account of the unkind behaviour of one 
 of the married persons. In one view, it may ap- 
 pear reasonable that it should, since consulting their 
 mutual happiness and comfort is a branch of the 
 marriage covenant : yet, when we consider what 
 damage might arise to the innocent olT'spring, — 
 how frequently complaints of this kind occur among 
 married people, — how generally in this case both 
 parties are to blame, — and on these accounts how 
 uncertain marriage would be rendered, if the dis- 
 solution of it in this case should be allowed, — it 
 seems on the whole more for the happiness of man- 
 kind, that some who arc in these unliappy circum- 
 stances should bear their calamity, than that they 
 should be eased of it on terms so hazardous to the 
 security and happiness of many more. To which 
 we may also add, that the consideration of mar- 
 riage, as an indissoluble Lond, may engage both 
 liusband and wife, out of regard to their own peace, 
 to be careful to govern their passions, so as not to 
 make it mutually intolerable ; in whieh exercise of 
 wisdom and virtue, each party may find a very great 
 account. 
 
 * This subject has been particularly treated of by a Mr. Jolin Fry, 
 in liis Case of Marriages between Kindred. .See also the Legal Degrees 
 of Marriajce stated and considered, by J. Alleyne, Esq. 
 
 + Galeacius Caracciolus is referred to, because his wife refused to 
 coliabjt with him on account of his religious principles. S. 
 
 4. Marriage may not be dissolved, as many other 
 covenants may, by the consent of the parties ; if it 
 might, marriages might frequently be contracted 
 almost in jest, or merely in some views of present 
 indulgence : and when one party was weary of the 
 bond, very indirect measures might be used to pro- 
 cure the consent of tlie other to dissolve it ; and 
 thus a state of things would probably be introduced 
 into the world, little dill'erent from that which mar- 
 riage was intended to prevent. 
 
 5. Neither ought marriage to be dissolved merely 
 on account of barrenness, unless one of the parties 
 evidently appears to have been under some natural 
 incapacity before the contract : otherwise it would 
 be diflicult to fix the time when sucli a dissolution 
 should take place; and great room would be left 
 for fraudulent separations. 
 
 6. Neither are marriages to be dissolved on ac- 
 count of any concealed deformity of body, or flaw 
 in estate ; though it be allowed very criminal and 
 foolish for any to impose upon another in a matter 
 of so great importance. 
 
 3Iihon's Prose Works, p. 5 — 12. Puff. lib. vi. 
 c. i. ^20—22, 24. Lettres Persanncs, vol. ii. 
 No. 102. Locke on Government, part ii, 
 § 78 — 81. Reeves's Apol. vol. i. p. 187, 188. 
 More's Utopia, p. 141 — 144. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Since the marriage bond is of so strict a nature, 
 it ought never to be formed without the most mature 
 consideration ; uor should any be forced into it by 
 the authority of superiors, contrary to their own in- 
 clinations. 
 
 LECTURE LXXIV. 
 
 DEFINITION XLIX. 
 Concubinage is a sort of marriage, in which the 
 woman, by agreement of both parties, is to be con- 
 sidered as a servant in the family; and express pro- 
 vision is made that her children shall not have such 
 a right of possession and inheritance as the children 
 of the primary wife. 
 
 scholium. 
 
 It appears by Prop. 59. part 1. that the taking a 
 concubine during the life of another wife, is gene- 
 rally at least to be avoided ; and it seems that he 
 who never marries any woman but as a concubine, 
 neither pays due respect to the female sex, nor suf- 
 ficiently consults his own happiness, in a free and 
 ingenuous friendship ; yet perhaps, in case of a 
 second marriage, where the children by a former 
 wife are living, concubinage is not altogether to be 
 condemned, if the constitution of the country per- 
 mit it. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 205 
 
 Puff, dc Jure, lib. vi. c. i. §3(5. lib. iv. c. xi. 
 § 9. Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. v. § 15. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXII. 
 Virtue requires that parents should take peculiar 
 care of their own children. 
 
 DEMONSTKATION. 
 
 1. The state of infancy is so feeble, that if tender 
 care were not taken of young children, they would 
 die quickly after their biith. 
 
 2. In childhood, on account of the weakness of 
 reason, they are incapable of providing for them- 
 selves. 
 
 3. It is evidently of importance to themselves and 
 the public, not only that their lives be taken care 
 of, but that their nunds be formed to virtuous and 
 pious sentiments, of which they are at first void, — 
 not to say that many at least seem strongly inclined 
 to the contrary. 
 
 1, 2, 3. Prop. 51. 4. Virtue requires that some 
 provision should be made for the education of chil- 
 dren. 
 
 5. Those who have produced them ought not in 
 reason to throw them as a burthen upon others, 
 when they are capable of taking c^re of them them- 
 selves. 
 
 6. That ropyr), or natural affection, which parents 
 feel towards their children, will render this task 
 more easy and delightful to them than it would be 
 to others. 
 
 6. 7. It is probable ( eat. par.) that cliildren will 
 be better taken care of by their parents than others. 
 
 4. 5, 7. 8. Virtue requires that parents should 
 take peculiar care of their own children. Q. E. D. 
 
 Rel. of Nature, p. 1.59, ICO. Dclany on Rel. 
 Duties, Serm. iv — vii. Fordijce's Mor. Phil. 
 § 3. e. iii. Paley's Moral and Political Phi- 
 losophy, vol. i. p. 34.5 — 367. Seattle's Ele- 
 ments of Moral Science, vol. ii. p. 139 — 148. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Virtue generally requires that those who have 
 children should make them their principal heirs. 
 Grot. ib. lib. ii. c. vii. k .5. No. ii. L' Esprit des 
 Loix, vol. ii. lib. xxvi. c. vi. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Virtue requires that remoter ancestors should be 
 careful of grandch!Mrcn, or other descendants ; 
 especially if the immediate parents be cither taken 
 away by death, or any other way rendered incapa- 
 ble of affording them assistance. Grot. ib. § 6. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 It docs not appear necessary that an equal distri- 
 bution of goods be made among all the children : 
 some proper regard should be liad to the merit of 
 each ; yet great care should be taken that the 
 parent does not, by an imprudent distinction, sow 
 such seeds of discord as may counterbalance the 
 
 advantage accruing to the most deserving child 
 from a larger share. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 2. 
 
 It seems reasonable that the eldest son should 
 generally have a larger share of his father's posses- 
 sions than the rest ; that so the honour of the family 
 may be supported, and that he may be a refuge to 
 younger children, if they should fall into poverty ; 
 especially since ( ceet. par.) it may reasonably be 
 expected that he will be more capable of managing 
 what he has for the common good ; and the distinc- 
 tion made in his favour will generally be less pro- 
 voking to the rest than if it were made in favour of 
 any other child. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, lib. iv. c. xi. § 8. Fleetw. Rel. 
 Duties, p. Ill — 113. Paley's Principles of 
 Mor. and Political Philos. vol. i. p. 359, 
 300.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, an elder son, or any other, may be 
 disinherited, or deprived of a part of what he 
 would otherwise have had, upon account of his 
 vicious disposition, if there be reason to believe 
 that he will abuse it to the detriment of others: 
 this the reason of things requires, and the laws of 
 most nations admit of it, though Plato only allows 
 it with the consent of near relations. As for the 
 argument brought against it from Deuteronomy 
 xxi. 15, &:c. as a law of God to the Jews, it may be 
 answered, That the Jews had not that power of 
 alienating their estates in general, which all allow 
 to others not under such a peculiar appointment, 
 and therefore no valid argument can be drawn from 
 hence ; and it is plain, God often interposed to 
 transfer the inheritance ; as in a most memorable 
 instance Jacol) did, and that (as all who believe 
 Scripture must suppose) by Divine direction, Gen. 
 xlix. 3. 1 Chron. v. 1,2. not to mention that power 
 which the law of God gave to Jewish parents to 
 put a wicked child to death ; which niight render a 
 particular licence to disinherit hini needless. — 
 Dent. xxi. 18, &c. 
 
 Puff. ib. § 11. Fleetw. ib. p. 113—127. Burn. 
 Life of Sir M. Hale, p. 7, 8. 
 
 LECTURE LXXV. 
 
 AXIOM XVII. 
 
 There is an evident fitness, that when one rational 
 being has received a favour and kindness from 
 
 * Thp doctrine of tliis Srlmlttiin lias liitrly Ijron rallfd in question, iti 
 aiwnplilet piililished in Scotland, llie title ol' wliicli I do not recollect. 
 IVI. Tnr^ot, and otiier philosoplw-rs, have likewise declared against all 
 riphts of primogeniture, and have contended that the property of 
 parents should, by I.Tw, he efjually divided among their children. — Sec 
 Condorcct's Life of M. TnrLrot. 
 
296 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 another, he shoulil have some sense of j^ratiliiilo, 
 and return good ratlier than evil. 
 
 Puff, dc Off: lib. i. c. viii. § 7, 8. 
 
 COROLLAHY. 
 
 Virtue requires gratitude. — Vid. Def. 37.* 
 
 PROPOSITION I.XIII. 
 
 To inquire into the duty of ehildren towards tlieir 
 parents. 
 
 SOLl'TION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Forasmuch as children have received import- 
 ant favours from their parents, gratitude, and there- 
 fore virtue, requires tliat they should /ore tliem. — 
 Ax. 17. and Cor. 
 
 2. Considering the superiority of age, and the 
 probable superiority of wisdom, which there is on 
 the side of parents, and also how much the satis- 
 faction and comfort of a parent depend on the re- 
 spect shown him by his children, it is fit that chil- 
 dren should reverence their parents. 
 
 2. 3. It is lit, that while the parents are living, 
 and the use of their understanding continued, their 
 children should not ordinarily undertake any matter 
 of great importance without advising with them, or 
 ■without very cogent reasons pursue it contrary to 
 their consent. 
 
 4. As young people need some guidance and 
 government in their minority, and as there is ( cert, 
 par.) some peculiar reason to trust the prudence, 
 care, and alTeetion of a parent, preferable to any 
 other person, it is reasonable that children, espe- 
 cially while in their minority, should obey their 
 parents ; witliout which, neither the order of 
 families, nor the happiness of the rising generation, 
 could be secured ; nevertheless, still supposing 
 that the commands of the parents are not inconsist- 
 ent with the will of God. 
 
 1, 2. 5. Virtue requires, that if parents come to 
 want, children should take care to furnish them 
 with the necessaries of life, and so far as their 
 ability will permit, with the conveniences of it. 
 
 Puff, dc Jure, lib. vi. c. ii. § 4, 7, 11. Fleet- 
 wood on Reliyious Duties, p. 4 — 22,61,52. 
 Delanij, ib. No. viii. ix. Puff, de Off. lib. ii. 
 c. iii. \ 12. Rcl. of Nature, p. IGl, 162. 
 Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, vol. 
 i. p. 308—378. Beattie's Elements of Moral 
 Science, vol. ii. p. 148 — 150. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Tlie like regards are in some degree due to re- 
 moter ancestors, if yet living; though, if they come 
 to want, they fall most properly under the care of 
 their more immediate surviving descendants. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 If any generous and compassionate friend act the 
 
 * Some sentiments of a dilTcrent kind, with respect to gratitude, are 
 advanced by the Rcr. .Jonatlian Kdwards, in his Essay on tlie Nature 
 of True Virtue; and by Mr. fJudwin, in his Inquiry concerning 
 PoliticalJustice, vol. i. p. 83 -85. 
 
 part of a parent, in taking care of a helpless child, 
 he may justly expect from him the returns of filial 
 duty. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 When the parent has delegated his authority to 
 some other person, reverence and some degree of 
 obedience are on that account to be paid to him, 
 beyond what would otherwise be his due. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Different degrees of obedience will be due to 
 parents according to the different age and circum- 
 stances of the child, and in some degree according 
 to the capacity and character of the parent. 
 
 Puff', de Off', lib. ii. c. iii. ^ 5—8. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 It is the duty of parents, or of those wlio sustain 
 their character and place, to behave to the ehildren 
 under their care in such a manner as may most 
 effectually contuliate their reverence and love, and 
 make the yoke of obedience as light as possible ; 
 and for this reason all unnecessary severities are to 
 be forborne. 
 
 Fleettvood (f Relative Duties, p. 73 — 81. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Many have chosen to build the riglit of parents 
 to the obedience of the child, wholly or chiefly on 
 their having been the instruments of bringing it into 
 existence, and have hence inferred a sovereign right 
 in the parent to dispose of the life, liberty, and 
 fortune of the child ; but it appears from the pre- 
 ceding propositions, that parental authority within 
 moderate bounds may be fixed on a basis less liable 
 to exception. 
 
 Grot. lib. ii. c. v. § 7. Filmcr of Patr. Govern- 
 ment, c. i. § 4 — 8. Locke of Government, 
 lib. i. § 52—59. Puff. ib. § 1—6. Bar- 
 heyrac's Notes on ib. § 10. p. 606, 607. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It appears from the reasoning of the proposition, 
 that both the parents have a right to the duties there 
 mentioned ; nevertheless ( cat. par.) the authority 
 of the father is chiefly to be regarded ; though 
 Hobbes is of a contrary opinion, and maintains that 
 a sovereign and unlimited power over the children 
 resides in the mother, and that the authority of 
 others over them is derived from her. 
 
 Hobbes de Give, e. ix. Pvff^ de Jure, lib. vi. 
 
 c. ii. § 2, 3. Puff, de Offic. lib. ii. c. iii. § 3. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. v. § 1. note. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 Though it appears from Dcmo'»,stration, (jr. 3. 
 that it is an irregular thing for ehildren, generally 
 speaking, to contract marriages without the advice 
 or consent of their parents, — ^nevertheless, it might 
 be attended with still worse consequences, if mar- 
 riages so contracted were to be deemed invalid. 
 
 Puff. ib. § 14. Grot. ib. § 10. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 297 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 The indigence of human infants seems to have 
 been wisely designed by Providence, on purpose to 
 lay a foundation for those mutual offices of parental 
 and filial duty, on which much of the happiness of 
 life evidently depends. 
 
 Camhray on Government, p. 26, 27. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It hence follov.s that, when the health of the 
 mother and the convenience of the family will ad- 
 mit of it, it is fit that mothers nurse their own 
 children, or take care that they be nourished at 
 home. 
 
 Tillots. Serm. vol. i. p. 523—525. Delany of 
 Rel. Dut. Serm. iv. p. 79 — 88-. Spectator, 
 vol. iii. No. 246. * 
 
 LECTURE LXXVI. 
 
 DEFINITION L. 
 A COMMUNITY is a company of men who are so 
 associated, that the whole body, either by them- 
 selves or their representatives, should judge con- 
 cerning any disputed rights or properties of each 
 member of it. 
 
 Locke of Government, lib. ii. c. vii. § 87. 
 
 DEFINITION LI. 
 Those men are said to be in A state of n ature 
 who are not by any mutual engagements, implicit 
 or express, entered into communities. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXIV. 
 It is for the happiness of mankind, that men in a 
 state of nature should form themselves into socie- 
 ties. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. The happiness of mankind requires that con- 
 troversies which arise among them should be de- 
 termined. 
 
 2. The prejudices of self-love would lead men to 
 Jay down different rules for themselves and others ; 
 it is proper, therefore, that there should be some 
 universal rule. 
 
 3. When these rules are admitted, prejudice 
 would bias particular persons in the application of 
 them ; therefore, it is fit that particular cases 
 should be determined by some other person, rather 
 than by eitlier of the parties, whose interest is in 
 question. 
 
 4. Such determinations would often be in vain, 
 if there were not some power to enforce the execu- 
 tion of them. 
 
 5. Where men are formed into communities, 
 
 * On this r|iinstion, recourse may be liad to Dr. Cadogan's Essay on 
 nursing, and Mr. Nelson's Treatise on tlie Government of Children. 
 
 rules may be laid down, judges appointed, and 
 determinations enforced, by the joint povi cr of the 
 whole body. — Therefore, 
 
 1,2, 3, 4, 5. Prop. 51. 6. The happiness of 
 mankind, and therefore virtue, requires that men 
 should form themselves into communities. 
 
 Locke of Gov. lib. ii. c. ii. ^ 124—126. Puff', 
 de Jure, lib. vii. c. i. § 8 — 11. Camhray of 
 Gov. p. 36 — 38 1; Thorns. Seas. Autumn, 
 line 43—144. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It is queried, V/ho is to be considered as a mem- 
 her of a community ? There can be no doubt as to 
 those who have given their express consent to it ; 
 as for those who live under the protection of any 
 community, it is to be taken for granted that while 
 they so continue, they consent to bear the burthen, 
 as some equivalent for sharing the happiness of it ; 
 but for aught that yet appears, such may with- 
 draw themselves from it when they shall judge it 
 requisite. 
 
 Locke of Gov. lib. ii. e. viii. ^ 119—122. Grot, 
 tie Jure, lib. ii. c. v. ^ 24. No. ii. 
 
 DEFINITION LII. 
 
 A LAW is a rule of action, prescribed by some 
 superior, in such a manner as at the same time to 
 declare a purpose of favouring or punishing those 
 under his power, as they shall act agreeably or dis- 
 agreeabl)' to it. 
 
 Pi'Jf. de Jure, lib. i. c. vi. § 1 — 4. Baxter's 
 Works, vol. ii. p. 25, 26. Grot, de Jure, lib. 
 i. c. i. ^ 9. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 If it shall appear to us hereafter, that God has 
 given us intimations, not only of his own delight in 
 virtue and aversion to vice, but also that he will 
 reward the one and puni.sh the other, then it may 
 properly be said, that the law of Gorf requires virtue. 
 DEFINITION LIU. 
 
 They are said to have the supreme civil go- 
 vernment in any state or community, who have 
 the supreme power of makiny latvs for that com- 
 munity, and executiny them in their own persons, 
 or by such olTiccrs as they shall appoint. 
 
 DEFINITION LIV. 
 
 When the supreme civil government is entirely 
 in the hands of one person, it is called a monarchy ; 
 if in a select number, an oligarchy, — which sonic 
 have divided into an aristocracy, which is the 
 government of the nobles, and an ochlocracy, 
 which is the government of a few of the meanest, 
 appointed and supported in a tumultuous manner ; 
 whereas a democracy is the government of the 
 whole body of the people ; but a constitution of 
 
 + The book enlitlcil Cambray on Government, was not written by 
 Fcnelon, Archbisbnp of Cambray, but by tlie Chevalier Kamsay, upon 
 the principles of that prelate. 
 
989 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 g,0M'rnmcnl coinpoiiiulrd of monarchy, aiislocrary, 
 ami democracy, like the British constitution, is 
 
 called A MIXED MONARCHY. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The composition in diflerent <jovernmcnts is so 
 \ari()iis, lliat some have tli()tif?ht this distrihiitioii 
 not sulliciently accurate, nrfciiif!; tliat neither I'oland 
 nor Holland tall under any of these. 
 
 Temple's Ess. vol. i. p. 47, 48. Voltaire's Jlist. 
 Charles XII. lib. ii. p. 61 — 67. Temp, on 
 Net/i. c. ii. ; Works, vol. i. p. 30 — 43. Uni- 
 versal History, vol. xxxiv. p. 6 — 30 ; ibid. 
 vol. xxxi. p. 3 — 1"2. 
 
 DEFINITION LV. 
 Laws made by the supreme civil power of any 
 community, to be observed by all their subjects, are 
 called CIVIL laws, and so differ from municipal, 
 made for particular towTis and corporations. 
 
 SCIIOLU'M. 
 
 The word civil law amon'^ us is generally used to 
 signify the laws of the lioman empire, which, on 
 account of their equity, have been generally re- 
 ceived in other nations ; whereas those whicii have 
 been established by act of parliament, are commonly 
 called statute, though they be in our sense civil 
 laws. P"ff- Jure, lib. viii. c. i. § 1.* 
 
 LECTURE LXXVII. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXV. 
 To inquire into the probable original of civil 
 government, or of communities. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Considering the natural dependence of chil- 
 dren upon their parents, it is certain that govern- 
 ment would at tirst be parental ; and it is exceeding 
 probable that if, according to many of the most 
 credible traditions, the human race descended from 
 one pair, so long as the first man lived, and con- 
 tinued in the exercise of reason, he had a consider- 
 able influence over the councils and actions of his 
 descendants, and was regarded by them as their 
 common head. 
 
 2. From the nature of things, it is not probable 
 that the power he had over his family descended 
 entirely to the eldest son ; it is certain, that the 
 
 * Though the specific discussion of the Roman Law does not con. 
 stitute a part of these Lectures, it may not be .imiss to refer the student 
 to a few general writers on a subject wliicli may hereafter demand some 
 attention. A foundation should be laid in Justinian's Institutes, which 
 may be read in Harris's edition, coniiirel\ending l)uth the Original and 
 a Translation. To this may lie added, SchomI)erK's Historical and 
 Clironoiot;ical View of Koinau Law; I)r. Taylor's Elements of tlie 
 Civil Law ; the same gentleman's Sunmiary of tiie Roman Law ; and 
 Dr. liever on th.e Study of Jurisprudence, arjd his History of tlie Legal 
 Policy of the Roman Mate, and of the Rise, Progress, and Extent, of 
 the K»tam Laws. 
 
 reason for being governed by an chUr brother, is 
 by no means the same as for being governed by a 
 father ; though we may naturally suppose that 
 (cat. par.) the age and experience of the elder 
 brotlier, together with the larger sliaic of the in- 
 iicritaiicc which he probably had, would have 
 given him some superiority, — yet not so great as an 
 cider brother would now generally have ; partly, as 
 tlie world being thinly peopled, eacii might have as 
 mtich land as he pleased, and partly, as in propor- 
 tion to the length of men's lives in tiiose early ages, 
 (if we credit tradition as before,) the difference 
 between the ages of the several elder brethren of a 
 family would be very inconsiderable. 
 
 Sidney on Gov. c. i. § 2. 
 
 2. 3. Each family would probably on the death 
 of the common parent become a kind of little 
 sovereignty, whose governor would naturally be 
 the father of it during his life ; and such sove- 
 reignties as these would be greatly multiplied in 
 the third, fourth, or following generations. 
 
 4. It is exceedingly probable that, among these 
 lesser communities, disputes would arise ; for the 
 determination of which they might judge it 
 proper, on the principles mentioned Prop. 64. 
 to form themselves into larger societies, including 
 several of those domestic communities ; and per- 
 haps the form of these might be various according 
 to the various tempers, characters, and circum- 
 stances of the persons concerned. 
 
 5. As disputes arose between one and another of 
 those larger societies, which no doubt they often 
 did, it was necessary that, on their forcibly oppos- 
 ing each other, the command of their respective 
 armies should centre in one person ; and if he were 
 not only remarkable for his valour, but also for his 
 wisdom, humanity, eloquence, piety, good success 
 in affairs, — any of these, but especially the con- 
 junction of them all, would greatly tend to increase 
 his authority in the community, and might engage 
 them to acquiesce in his stated government. 
 
 Sidney on Government, c. i. § 16. 
 
 6. It is not to be supposed that persons, families, 
 or larger communities, before free and independent, 
 would submit themselves to the government of any 
 one person whatever, without some equivalent ; 
 which could probably be no other than that of pro- 
 tecting tliem in their liberties and properties ; so 
 that there was no doubt some original contract 
 between the prince and the people existed, in all 
 those kingdoms where the prince gained his power 
 by a peaceable election. 
 
 7. Some ambitious persons, partly by stratagem 
 and partly by force, might po.ssess themselves of 
 power over others ; yet even these conquests could 
 not be settled without some agreement between the 
 victor and the vanquished ; for till such an agree- 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 299 
 
 ment was made, there w as evidently a state of hos- 
 tility, and not a community. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, lib. vii. c. iii. § 1, 6 — 9. Tem- 
 ple's Misc. vol. i. p. 55 — 82. Camb. of Govern. 
 c. vii. p. 49 — 54. Locke of Govern, part ii. 
 c. viii. § 95 — 112. Roll. Anc. Hist. vol. i. 
 Introd. Lyttelt. Pers. Let. p. 33, &c. An- 
 cient Univ. History, folio, lib. i. p. 108 ; 8vo, 
 p. 230. Ibid, folio, p. 71, 72; 8vo, p. 385— 
 388. With Saunif/artcu's Suj}plenient,\ol. i. 
 p. 42—69. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence it will follow, that though there might be 
 various kinds of governments prevailing, and in 
 monarchies various degrees of liberty in the people, 
 and power in the prince, yet there must always have 
 been some original contract between them, as the 
 foundation of all government, except that of a father 
 over his descendants. 
 
 Sidney on Government, c. i. § 20.* 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Hence we may see how far sovereignty may be 
 said to have its original from God. We have rea- 
 son to believe, that it is the will of God that we 
 should do our utmost to promote the happiness of 
 mankind : — now some government appears neces- 
 sary for this purpose (vid. Prop. 64.) ; and when 
 governments are formed, attempts to destroj' them 
 might in many instances be pernicious to ourselves 
 and to the public ; we have reason therefore to be- 
 lieve, that God wills not only that government in 
 general should be, but that the present form of 
 government should continue in any place, so long 
 as the happiness of the whole may be promoted 
 thereby ; but there appears as yet no reason to be- 
 lieve, that God wills it should continue immutable, 
 however it is administered, or that a- prince can 
 justly claim a commission from God in attempting 
 the ruin of the community, which it is his business 
 to protect. God's being the Author of government 
 in the sense explained above, will be a great aggra- 
 vation of the guilt of such a tyrannical sovereign ; 
 and any pretence to Divine authority in such out- 
 rages, will only be adding impiety to treachery and 
 cruelty : but this will be examined hereafter. 
 
 Camb. of Gov. c. vi. Puff, de Jure, lib. vii. 
 c. iii. § 2 — 4. Roll. Man. vol. i. p. 423, 
 424. Sidn. on Gov. c. i. § 6. Delany on 
 Rel. Dut. Serm. xiv. p. 276 — 285. Paley's 
 Principles of Moral and Political Philosoph,/, 
 vol. ii. p. 141—163, 7th edit. 
 
 * In opposition to tlic notion of an original Contract, or Compact 
 «ee Ilumc'9 hssays, vol. i. Essay 12. lidinb. edit, of 176) ; PaVy's 
 Princi|,lt s of Moral anil Political Pliilosopliy. vol. ii. p. 130—141 ■ and 
 Dean Turkfr's Treatisp on (;ovcrnmcnt. Dr. Tucker has I.een an. 
 rwcred by Ur. lowers, in his Vindication of tlic Political Priuciolcs of 
 Mr. LocKc. ' 
 
 LECTURE LXXVIIL 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 The account of the original of civil government 
 here given is illustrated, and something confirmed, 
 by the constitution of several of the most considerable 
 nations which we find in ancient history ; particu- 
 larly by the power of the Ephori and General As- 
 sembly amongst the Spartans (a), the Amphictyones 
 of Greece (b), the SufTetes, Senate, and Popular 
 Assembly of Carthage (c), the Senate, Comitia, and 
 Tribunes of Rome ( d ), the Saxon Wittenagemot (e), 
 which was the original of the British parliament, 
 and the Spanish Cortes (f) ; not to mention the 
 constitution of many other more modern govern- 
 ments. 
 
 Sidney on Government, e. ii. § 16. p. 130, &c. 
 
 (a) Stanyan's Gr. Hist. vol. i. lib. iii. c. iv. p. 
 80—82. Univ. Hist. vol. ii. p. 674. 
 
 (b ) Potter's Archaol. lib. i. c. xvi. vol. i. p. 
 83—85. Stanyan, ib. p. 119, 120. 
 
 (c) RoUin's Anc. Hist. lib. ii. §3. vol. i, 
 
 (d ) Moyle's Worhs, vol. i. p. 8, 9, 103—108. 
 Vertot's Rom. Rev. vol. i. p. 7 — 9. Kennet's 
 Rom. Ant. part ii. lib. iii. c. ix. and xvi. 
 
 (e) Rapin's Hist, of England, vol. i. p. 152 — 
 156. Squire of the Anylo-Saxon Gov. 
 
 (f) Geddes's Misc. vol. i. p. 317, &c.t 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Some probable conjectures why arbitrary mo- 
 narchy prevailed more in the northern parts of 
 Asia, and in Africa, than in Europe, may be seen in 
 Temple's Misc. vol. i. p. 60 — 53 ; Works, vol. i. 
 p. 390. L'Esprit des Loi.v, vol. i. lib. xvii. 
 p. 377—385 ; Eng. Transl. p. 390—395. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The objection against this scheme, from our not 
 having a right over our own lives, and much less 
 over the lives of others, in a state of nature, goes 
 upon a very false principle ; for every man, previ- 
 ously to contract, has a right of using all his natural 
 power for the public good, and when that seems to 
 require it, even of taking away the life of another, 
 or forbearing to defend his own : and all that any 
 man promises in this respect, is submission to a 
 sentence of death in certain cases ; for no law ever 
 condemns a man to execute himself. 
 
 lJurn. iv. Disc. p. 10, 11. Locke on Govern. 
 
 part. ii. c. xi. § 135. Puf. dc Jure, lib. viii. 
 
 c. iii. § 1. Hoadly on Gov. p. 168 — 188. 
 
 + Por further and extensive information on thcie subjects, rcconrsc 
 may be had to Mr. Mitford's and Ur. Gillics'.s Historie-s of Greece, the 
 Travels of Anacliarsis the Younger, iipelmnn'a Translatiim of Oiony- 
 sius Halicarnassensis, Ilnoke's Roman History, Fersnson's History of 
 the Roman lli pnblic, Dr. Adams's Roman .'\nti((Uitics, Dr. Robertson's 
 Hislory of rharlesthe Fifth, vol. i., Ilotoman's Franco. Gallia, Achcrly's 
 iiritannic Cou'-tilntion, tit. Amand's lissay on the Briti.'^li LcKislalivc 
 Constitution of England, Hurd's Dialogues, vol. ii. p. 8t)-3,)l, third 
 edit., Dr. Gilljcrt Stuart's Historical Essay on the English Constiliilion, 
 and Lord I.yttlcton's History of Henry the Second, vol. iii. p. 210— 
 281 ; ibid. p. .372 - 404, third edition. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 rnorosiTioN i.wi. 
 To propose and confute that other liypothcsis of 
 the oriirinal of p:overnnicnt, wliich is commonl}- eall- 
 cd tlie Patriarchal Sc/ieme. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. The foundation of it is, tliat tlic ^rst man was 
 absolute sovcreipjn of all his ))osterity, so as to dis- 
 pose of their possessions and their lives, without 
 bcinjc accountable to any but God, 
 
 2. That on his death, his eldest son Cain having 
 been disinherited by God, the supreme power de- 
 volved upon Seth, the next eldest son, and passed 
 from him by a lineal succession to Noah. 
 
 That he, accordina: to the Divine direction, di- 
 vided the earth, after the Delu<j;e, among sevenli/ of 
 his descendants, heads of so many nations, who 
 were each of them made independent and absolute 
 sovereigns ; in whose successors (when they can be 
 discovered) the right of government still continues. 
 
 4. That it is to be presumed, that in every coun- 
 try the reif/ning prince is that successor, and conse- 
 quently, that such unlimited obedience is to be p^'id 
 to him, unless it appears that some other person 
 has an hereditary claim better founded than his. 
 
 Hoadhj on Gov. p. 3, 4. Filmer's Patriarchal 
 Scheme, c. i. § 4 — 9. p. 12—22. 
 
 CONFUTATION. 
 
 Admitting the credibility, and, for argument's 
 sake, the inspiration, of the Mosaic History, the 
 following objections seem abundantly sufficient to 
 overthrow this hypothesis : — 
 
 1. It can never be proved that Adam had such an 
 unlimited power over his whole race : it is certain, the 
 relation of r father does by no means imply it, (Prop. 
 G3. Schol. 1.) and no text in the writings of Moses is 
 alleged directly to prove it, unless Gen. i. 2G — 30 
 and iii. IG. ; the first of which was a grant to the 
 human race of the whole animal and vegetable cre- 
 ation for its use ; and tlic second related only to 
 Eve, and at most amounts to no more than that, as 
 woman had abused her husband's tenderness, she 
 .should sometimes find herself galled by the yoke 
 of his authority ; but this does not imply an aljso- 
 lute power: at least, there is not a shadow of argu- 
 ment for any thing more than Adam's dominion over 
 his own wife, and by no means over their descend- 
 ants. 
 
 Hoadhj on Gov. p. 5 — 35. pras. p. 5 — 13. Locke 
 on Gov. part. i. c. iv — vi. pras. p. 23 — 31. 
 
 2. Allowing Adam to have been possessed of such 
 a power, it will by no means prove that it was to 
 descend from him, and centre in one of his children. 
 It is certain that the right of a father and of an elder 
 brother arc in this respect very different {Prop. 63, 
 65, f/r. 2.) ; — and as for the argument of a supposed 
 Divine appointment, drawn from Gen. iv. 7. though 
 it may prove some pre-eminence in an elder brother, 
 
 especially during the time that his younger lived 
 with him, it will never prove an absolute power 
 during life, over him and all his remotest de- 
 scendants. 
 
 Hoadhj, ib. p. 3.'; — 38. Loclte, ib. c. viii. Sid- 
 nri/. ib. c. ii. § 4. 
 
 3. The distribution of mankind into seventy na- 
 tions, with an absolute sovereign to each, sui)poscs 
 a contradiction to the right of primogeniture, as be- 
 fore asserted by Filnier, without any apparent rea- 
 son ; and is itself a most chimerical and arbitrary 
 assertion. Gen. x. 32. is a most feeble foundation 
 for such a grand superstructure; and only signifies, 
 that the chief nations among whom the earth was 
 divided sprang from the persons there mentioned. 
 The division, which Filmer supposes, would make 
 the parents subject to their cliildren ; besides, that 
 some of those there mentioned were not born when 
 tlic distribution is supposed to have been made. 
 
 Hoadhj, ib. p. 49^4. Sidney, ib. c. 1. § 7, 8. 
 
 4. Had God meant to establish the right of primo- 
 geniture in this manner, it is not probable he would 
 so often liavc chosen younger sons to special favours, 
 dignity, and authority, as wc arc sure he did, if the 
 truth of the Old Testament be granted. 
 
 Sidney, ib. c. i. § 13. Hoadly, ib. p. 55 — 59. 
 
 5. The admission of such an hypothesis, grounded 
 on so slender an evidence, would be attended with 
 great damage to mankind, — as it might destroy the 
 settlement of many very considerable nations, as 
 appears from the genealogy of their royal families. 
 At best, this is an useless scheme, since no one per- 
 son upon earth can be known to be the true heir ; 
 and since the number of sovereigns in the world is 
 so vastly greater than seventy, it would, upon Fil- 
 mer's hypothesis, be ( cert, par.) a great probability 
 against any one that he was not one of those seventy 
 in whom the right lay. 
 
 Loche, ib. c. xi. Sidney, ib. c. i. § 1^, 17, 18. 
 
 G. The scheme is plainly inconsistent with itself; 
 for if fatherhood give an absolute power over the 
 children, then it rests in all parents ; and conse- 
 quently, had Seth commanded his children to have 
 resisted Adam, they would on this scheme have 
 been obliged to do it, though by another part of it 
 they were obliged to an unlimited obedience to 
 Adam. 
 
 Loche, ib. ^ 68—72. Hoadly, ib. p. 1.3—15. De 
 Foe's Jus Divin. lib. ii. p. 2 — 6. Grove's 
 liriscel. p. 42—62. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 'Some have argued for what they call indefeasible 
 hereditary riyht in monarclis, from the right of elder 
 children to succeed to the land of their parents ; 
 but it is certain that the elder son has not in equity 
 a right to succeed to the whole paternal inheritance, 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 301 
 
 so that the rest of the children should have no share 
 of it ; though it may generally be fit he should have 
 a larger share than the rest (Prop. 62. Schol. 2.) ; 
 yet he may be disinherited whenever a regard for 
 the common good requires it : besides, that a suc- 
 cession to places of trust, power, and dignity, is a 
 thing of a very different nature from a succession to 
 an estate. 
 
 Camh. of Gov. c. ix. Hutch. Syst. 3. viii. 3. 
 9—11. 
 
 LECTURE LXXIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION LX\ n. 
 Every man is born in a state of freedom, i. e. he is 
 (so far as appears by the light of nature) no furtlier 
 obliged to support or submit to the fomi of govern- 
 ment in the country w here he is born, than he shall 
 judge, upon a view of present circumstances, that 
 a subjection to such government will be for the 
 good of the whole. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. If a person were, by any argument which the 
 light of nature suggests, universally bound to be 
 subject to and support any government further than 
 it appears to him for the public good in present cir- 
 cumstances, such obligation must be built, either 
 on some natural right in the governors to unlimited 
 obedience, or on such a power conferred upon them 
 by some previous contract. 
 
 2. The natural right in favour of primogeniture 
 has been considered and confuted above, Prop. 60. 
 
 3. A previous contract of parents, binding them- 
 selves and their ofispring to unlimited subjection, 
 is a thing which can hardly be supposed ; but if we 
 were sure that such a contract had been ever so 
 expressly made, as they had no right to dispose of 
 the lives and properties of their children according 
 to their own will, the children could not be bound 
 by such a contract. 
 
 1, 2, 3. 4. Valet propositio. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence it will evidently appear, that virtue will 
 allov/ to resist the supreme governor, if any circum- 
 stances shall arise in which such resistance shall 
 appear to be most for the public good. Vid. Prop, 
 a'}. Cor. 1. and Prop. .56. Scliol. 3. 
 
 Puff', de Jure, lib. vii. c. viii. § 5. Locke on 
 Gov. part ii. § 202—222. Sidnetj on Gov. 
 c. iii. § 41. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Much more may it be allowed in a mixed mo- 
 narchy, that the other branches of the legislative 
 power should resist the monarch when he goes 
 about to subvert their constitution, in direct viola- 
 
 tion of that contract on which he is admitted to the 
 crown.* Caermich. Puff, dc Off. lib. ii. c. ix. § 4. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Some, waving all pleas from a supposed donation 
 of power from God to kings, assert resistance to be 
 universally unlawful, because it can never promote 
 the public good, but must on the whole be detri- 
 mental to mankind. But it may be answered, 
 
 1. That cases may occur, in which, the aflections 
 of the people may be so alienated from the govern- 
 ment, that a revolution may be accomplished with 
 very little bloodshed and confusion. 
 
 2. That by this means, the civil and religious 
 liberties of a mighty nation may be, and often have 
 been, secured, when even on the brink of ruin. 
 
 3. That such an event may contain matter of very 
 wholesome instruction to succeeding princes, in 
 that country and elsewhere, and by preventing 
 future oppressions, may greatly promote the good 
 of mankind. 
 
 And whereas it is urged, that the encouragement 
 which the doctrine of resistance might give to insur- 
 rections and popular tumults would be an equivalent 
 for all this,— it is to be remembered, 
 
 1. That it may be concluded, a virtuous man 
 will, as he certainly ought to do, attentively weigh 
 the reasons and consequences of things before he 
 engages in so important an undertaking. 
 
 2. That the apparent danger attending it will 
 deter men of prudence from embarking themselves 
 in it till there be a great prospect of succeeding ; 
 which probably there cannot be till the people have 
 been alienated from their governors by long, fre- 
 quent, and notorious oppressions. 
 
 3. That though it is true this doctrine may be 
 abused, and may in some cases be attended with ill 
 consequences, — yet, considering the temptations of 
 royalty, the doctrine of passive ohediencc and non- 
 rcsistancc is likely to be much more abused, as it 
 has certainly in fact been ; so that, upon the whole, 
 the hazard seems to be abundantly balanced. 
 
 Camh. on Gov. c. X. p. 74 — 70, 84. Locke on 
 Gov. partii. c. xix. § 223 — 230. Sacheverel's 
 Trial, p. 88 — 114. Sidn. on Gov. c. iii. § 40. 
 p. 434 — 436. The Judgment of whole King- 
 doms and Nat. concerning the Rights, Power, 
 ffc. of Kings, and the Rights, Privileges, 
 and Properties of the People, printed in 1710. 
 Hutch. Syst. S vii. 3 — 7. 
 
 * That (Treat question concerning tlie Origin and Drsi;rn of Govern- 
 ment, tlie Ilislits of tlic People, anil the Power of Resistance, have 
 lately been amply considered, in consc(juctir); of (he two ;;rand political 
 controversies of the aijp, occasioned, first, by Dr. Pric*-'s Observations 
 on the Nature of Civil L.il>erty, and, still more recently, by Mr. Burke's 
 fietlections on the Vrench Revolution. It would be endless specifically 
 to refer to the variety of treatises and iwmphlets which have appeared 
 on both sides of the tpiestions in agitation. A list of these publications 
 may be collected from the Reviewsof the time, and es|iecially from the 
 Monthly Rev iew, which we the rather mention, as being more accessi- 
 ble to the (jenerality of readers. Several years previously to these 
 controversies, Dr. Priestley published an Essay on the First Principles 
 of Government. 
 
30*2 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCHOI.H'M 2. 
 
 Considorin?; tlio many diHiciiltieslo which princes 
 arc exposed, how liable tlicy arc often to be imposed 
 upon wlicn they dcsi<;n best, and how impossible it 
 is for the bulk of tlie people to enter into all the 
 reasons of their counsels and actions, we do most 
 readily {jrant, that men ouf!,ht to put the most caa- 
 did interpretation upon the actions of their governors 
 w hich they can in reason bear ; and that tliey 
 should never have recourse to violent methods, but 
 in cases of very great extremity, and where the 
 probability of promoting the public security and 
 happiness by it is very apparent. 
 
 Climb, on Gov. c. x. p. 78 — 83. Evans's C/irist. 
 Temp. vol. ii. p. 308, 309. Sermon 14. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXVIII. 
 To inquire what form of government is to be pre- 
 ferred, as generally most subservient to the happi- 
 ness of mankind. 
 
 LECTURE LXXX. 
 
 SOU'TION. 
 
 A )uixed monarchy, yenerallij to descend by in- 
 heritance, seems preferable to the rest. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. An arbitrary monarchy would undoubtedly be 
 most desirable, if the monarch were perfectly wise 
 and good ; seeing he would then have much greater 
 opportunities of doing good to his subjects than 
 under a limitation of power he could possibly have ; 
 and the unavoidable imperfection of general laws 
 would be greatly remedied by his integrity and 
 wisdom: but considering the degeneracy and im- 
 perfection of mankind, it seems unsafe to trust so 
 much power in one man ; and it is generally in 
 fact seen, that where this kind of government is 
 admitted, tyranny, cruelty, and oppression, prevail 
 with it. 
 
 2. An aristocracy, and much more a democracy, 
 feaves too much room for the cabals of statesmen, 
 makes the despatch of business slower, and there 
 are secrets of state of which it is impossible that the 
 people should be proper judges, and which it is by 
 no means convenient to lay before them ; and when 
 discords arise between one part of the people and 
 another, it is much more difficult to compose them 
 when there is no monarch. 
 
 1,2. 3. The chief advantages of all these con- 
 stitutions are secured, and the chief disadvantages 
 are avoided, by a mixed monarchy ; especially in 
 one that consists, like ours, of three states, one of 
 w hich is to be chosen by the people, and to have the 
 power of granting revenues to be raised on the sub- 
 
 jects, while the prince has the power of making 
 peace and war : such a constitution is tlierefi)rc to 
 be preferred. 
 
 4. That a kingdom should be elective, has indeed 
 many advantages ; especially as it prevents the suc- 
 cession of an improper person, and moderates the 
 temptation « liicli the sovereign is under to enhance 
 the prerogative of the crown ; as also that which the 
 nobles are under to oppress the people, if the 
 people have any share in the election. 
 
 6. Yet it proves the occasion of so many factions, 
 and where the kingdom is considerable, of so many 
 destructive civil wars, that the danger seems to be 
 more than equal to the advantage. 
 
 4, 5. 6. The proper balance between both seems 
 to be, that the right of succession should yenerally 
 prevail ; but that in case of any evident incapacity 
 or mal-administration, the next heir should be set 
 aside by the other branches of the legislature. 
 3, C. 7. Valet propositio. 
 
 Camb. of Gov. c. xv. xvi. Puff, de Jure, lib. 
 vii. c. V. § 22. . Moyle's Works, vol. i. p. 
 57—61. Puff, de Off. lib. ii. c. viii. ^ 4—8. 
 Spect. vol. iv. No. 287. Hobbes's Leviath. c. 
 xix. Sidney on Gov. e. ii. § 16, 24, 27, 30. 
 L'Esprit des Loix, lib. xi. c. vi. lib. xix. c. 
 27; English Transl. p. 321,337, 456—458. 
 Preceptor, vol. ii. p. 474 — 486.* 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Notwithstanding these general reasons, so much 
 regard is to be had to the temper and usages of par- 
 ticular nations, that it might often be attended with 
 dangerous consequences to attempt a change from 
 a less to a more perfect form of government. 
 
 Temple's Ess. vol. i. p. 16, 17 ; Works, vol. i. 
 p. 70. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 Instances of the oppression and misery which 
 have attended arbitrary governments, are to be seen 
 every where, especially in 
 
 Addis, Freeholder, No. x. KrousinskV s Rev, 
 of Pers. vol. i. pass. Knox's Ceylon, lib. iii. 
 c. iii. iv. Hanway's Trav. vol. ii. p. 339 — 
 411. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The Commons of Great Britain have grown up to 
 their present share in the government, by gradual 
 advances. In the earlier reigns, particularly that 
 of Edward I. (a. d. 1280.) the laws were enacted by 
 the king and lords, the commons being only men- 
 tioned as suppliants. But what laid the foundation 
 of their growing so considerable, was the grant 
 which, according to Candjray, Henry VII. but 
 indeed Stephen, Henry II. and John, had long 
 before his time made, to empower the lords to 
 
 * A most ample vindication of the mixed Form of Government is 
 given in Mr. Adums's Defence of tlie Constitution of the United States 
 of America, in three vohimea, octavo. Very different sentiments occur 
 in Godwin's Inquiry concerning Political justice, vol. ii. p. 423—153. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 303 
 
 alienate their lands ; which thus passing into tlic 
 hands of tlic commons, wlio before were only tlicir 
 tenants, they became more considerable than before, 
 as the proprietors of land in a state will always be. 
 Itnpin's Hist, of Eng. p. 155. note. Cnnib. on 
 Gov. p. 138—140, 147—149. Bacon's Hen. 
 VII. p. 12. Lijttelton's Pers. Lett. No. 59 — 
 69. Sidn. on Gov. c. iii. § 10. p. 297, and 
 § 28. Preceptor, vol. ii. on Government, 
 oh. 3, 4. Hurd's Dial. No. 5, and G. passim.* 
 
 LECTURE LXXXI. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXIX. 
 Virtue requires that obedience should be paid to 
 civil rulers, in those things in which the authority 
 of God is not apprehended to contradict their com- 
 mands. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 64. 1. Virtue requires that there should 
 be communities. 
 
 2. Affairs cannot be administered in communities, 
 unless some civil rulers are appointed to manage 
 them. 
 
 3. This appointment would be vain, unless obe- 
 dience were to be generally paid to them, as above. 
 
 2, 3. 4. The refusal of such obedience to civil 
 power, tends to the ruin of communities. 
 
 1,4. 5. Virtue requires they should be generally 
 obeyed, as above. Q. E. D. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, lib. vii. c. viii. § 1. Hutch. Syst. 
 S vii. 2. ix. 17, 18. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Reverence is to be paid to rulers ; and in dubious 
 cases, virtue will require us to put the mildest con- 
 struction upon their actions which they will reason- 
 ably bear. Vid. Prop. 67. Schol. 2. 
 
 Puf. ib. § 3. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Virtue will require us rather to acquiesce in their 
 determinations, even where we imagine ourselves 
 injured, than to disturb the public by taking our 
 revenge into our own hands, — unless it may be the 
 proliable means of freeing a country from an in- 
 tolerable tyranny. 
 
 Killing no Murder, pass. Ap. Harleian Miscell. 
 now separately published. 
 
 * Much information on t\iis licad may be derived from tlic e.irly 
 volumes nrtlie Parliamentary History, Sullivan's Law Lectures, Black- 
 stone's Commentaries on the Laws of KnjilautI, vol, i. King on the 
 Eniflish fonstitution, Millar on the Enslii-h fiovcrnment. Bishop 
 i:ilys s Lssayson Temporal Liberty, trart the fourtli, and the several 
 \olijin< s .,1 l»r. Henry s History of (ireat Britain. For a review of the 
 Briti'ili Constitution as it now stand!!, see Paley's Principles of Moral 
 and Political Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 190—214, and Dr. Beattie s Ele- 
 ments of Moral Science, vol. ii. p. .391—4.04 A still more copious 
 discussion of the subject is presented in Mr. Ue Lolrae's Treatise on 
 Ihe Constitution of Ivngland. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 To choose to determine points by single combat, 
 rather than to refer them to the judgment of the 
 magistrate, is to be condemned, — as being a dero- 
 gation from his authority, or opposition to his deter- 
 mination, as v.'ell as a rash exposing our own lives 
 or that of others ; and a probable means of intro- 
 ducing a WTong sense of honour, which may be 
 detrimental to the lives and souls of many, who 
 might otherwise be useful to the commonwealth. 
 Hale's Gold. Rem. p. 107—115. 8vo ; p. 70—96. 
 4to. Sped. vol. ii. No. 97. Montesq. Spirit 
 of Laws, vol. ii. lib. xxviii. c. xvii. xx. xxiv. 
 XXV. Freethinker, vol. i. No. xv. Delany's 
 Serm. on Duelling, vol. ii. Watts on Self- 
 Murder, § 6, latter part ; Works, vol. ii. p. 
 387, SSB.f 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Marriages are to be made only as the civil law of 
 any country directs, supposing there is nothing in 
 the ceremonj' so directed which shall appear un- 
 lawful to the parties concerned ; and though private 
 contracts are undoubtedly binding in the sight of 
 God, yet they ought to be discouraged, and the 
 offspring of such unauthorized marriages may justly 
 be laid under some incapacities, in order to prevent 
 the prevalency of them, which would be much more 
 to the damage of society : and the same kind of 
 observations and reasons may be applied to divorces 
 and to wills in some degree, where the civil law 
 determines the circumstances M ith which they shall 
 be attended. 
 
 Puff, de Jure, lib. vi. c. i. ^ 36. suh fin. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Princes are undoubtedly bound by their covenant 
 with their people ; for the reasoning. Prop. 55. 
 Dem. has a peculiar weight wlicn applied to them. 
 Some have questioned. Whether a succeeding prince 
 be bound by any concessions made by his prede- 
 cessors : but there can be no room for such a debate, 
 when a prince swears, or even promises, to govern 
 according to law ; and the concessions made by 
 preceding princes have been, as they generally are, 
 passed into civil laws. To say that such conces- 
 sions were sometimes forcibly extorted, and there- 
 fore are not obligatory, would be to destroy all the 
 faith of treaties, and is bringing the thing back to 
 the exploded scheme of passive obedience. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. xiv. § 10, 11. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXX. 
 Briefly to inquire into the mutual duties of 
 masters and servants. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Servants owe to their masters diligence in 
 
 + Dr. Hey has written a distinct tract against the practice of Duel- 
 lin;,' ; and Mr. More has exposed it somewhat at larKe at the end of his 
 work on Suicide. Conciser views of the subject occur in Paley's Prin- 
 ciples of Moral and Political Philosophy, vol. i. p. 272-276 ; and in 
 (iodwin's Inquiry concerning Political Justice, vol. i. p. 91— 9C. 
 
304 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 their business, fulolity in any other trusts reposed in 
 them, iuul sueh a reverence in their behaviour as 
 may botii promote and express their obedience. 
 
 2. Masters owe to their hired servants a re^^ular 
 payment of their w astes ; to all, a proper care oC 
 their support duriu"; the time of service, and a kind 
 and aflable treatment : — they are to sec that they 
 be neither uneuii)lc)yed, nor overwhelmed vvitli 
 business beyond wliat their strensjth and time will 
 admit, and t'.uit their minds be duly cultivaled, 
 according to the circumstances of life in which 
 they are placed. 
 
 Sped. vol. ii. No. 107 and 1.37. Delaiuj on 
 
 Rcl. Dut. Scrm. x. xi. Paletjs Moral and 
 
 Political Philosophy, vol. i. p. 233 — 235. 
 
 Bcattie's Elements of Moral Science, vol. i. 
 
 p. 150—153. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 The obligation to these duties on both sides is 
 evident, from the nature of the relation, and those 
 mutual covenants which generally attend it, in 
 which these things are either expressly or tacitly 
 stipulated. 
 
 Fleetwood on Rcl. Dut. p. 279—281. Puf. dc 
 Of. lib. ii. e. iv. §1,2. Hutch. Syst. § iii. 1. 
 Grove's Ethics, vol. ii. p. 509—511. 
 
 SCHOLIUM I. 
 
 It is disputed, Whether it be unlawful to buy 
 men as slaves, and forcibly compel them to do 
 service for life, or a term of years ? Some have 
 thought the strength of body and stupidity of mind 
 to be found among some parts of the human species, 
 especially the Negroes, intimate that they were de- 
 signed to be the drudges of the rest ; but to admit 
 such an argument might be attended with dangerous 
 usurpations and contentions ; for who does not 
 think he has genius enough to command others ? 
 Nevertheless, if any case occurs, in which a man 
 may be justly condemned to be a slave by the laws 
 of his country, it seems very allowable to buy him 
 and use him as sueh ; and if purchasing men for 
 slaves out of the hands of their enemies, by whom 
 they are taken prisoners, may be a means of pre- 
 serving their lives, which in Guinea is often the 
 case, it seems very allowable to purchase them, — 
 unless it prove the means of encouraging unreason- 
 able and destructive wars, and tlie mischief occa- 
 sioned thereby be greater than the good arising from 
 the preservation of the lives of those already taken, 
 and the fruit of their labours ; which may possibly 
 make the matter a greater didiculty than some ima- 
 gine. Yet virtue will require, even in this case, 
 that the slaves be treated with as much humanity 
 as may be consistent with the safety of their master, 
 and witli a prudent care of his affairs. 
 
 Snclrjraves Guin. p. 160, 161. Puff, dc Off. 
 ib. \ 3, 4. with Caermichacrs Notes. Month. 
 
 Review, vol. xxiv. p. 160. Hutch. Syst. ii. 
 vol. iii. xiv. 3. § iii. 2 — 5. Grove's Ethics, 
 vol. ii. p. 5, 11 — 13. Spirit of Laws, lib. xv. 
 c. ii. vol. i. p. 330 — 357 ; in another edition, 
 p. 318, 369.* 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 2. 
 
 It is questioned. Whether a father may ever sell 
 his child ? Some have argued, but without reason, 
 that fatherhood gives a right universally. It seems 
 he only has it when the constitution of a country 
 appoints him the civil judge of his children ; or 
 when his circumstances are such, that the sale of his 
 child in his minority is absolutely necessary for the 
 supporting the lives of cither or both of them. — 
 Prop. 51. Cor. 3. 
 
 Grot, dc Jure, lib. ii. e. v. § 5. Hutch. Syst. 
 c. ii. 5. Puff", de Jure, lib. vi. c. ii. § 9. 
 
 LECTURE LXXXII. 
 
 LEMMA TO PROPOSITION LXXI. 
 
 As the word punishment occurs in the proposition, 
 and is not defined, it may be proper here to give a 
 definition of it as a Lemma, not to alter the num- 
 ber of the succeeding definitions ; and it may be 
 taken thus: — Punishment is an evil inflicted, in 
 consequence of an offence committed against the 
 person by whom it is inflicted or appointed, whe- 
 ther under a public or private character. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXI. 
 
 Virtue may permit, or even require, the civil ma- 
 gistrate, not only to execute other heavy punish- 
 ments upon offenders, but in some cases to take 
 away their lives. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Virtue requires that the civil magistrate en- 
 deavour to preserve the public peace and tranquil- 
 lity, — which is the design of his office. 
 
 2. In order to this, it is necessary that effectual 
 methods be taken to deter men from such crimes 
 as arc ruinous to society, i'. </. murder, treason, 
 theft, &c. 
 
 3. The corruption of men is so great, that it evi- 
 dently appears in fact, that they rush on to the 
 commission of those crimes, even though they are 
 made capital by the laws of their country. ■ 
 
 3. 4. There is great reason to believe that if 
 
 * The question concerning Negro Slavery has lately received the 
 most ample discussion. It may suffice to refer to Mr. Ranis.ny's treatise 
 on tlie subject ; to Mr. Clarlison's two publications, first on the Ininuity, 
 and secondly on the Impolicy, of the Slave Trade; to Mr. Dickson's 
 Letters on Slavery; and to Dr. lieattie's Klemciits of Moral Science, 
 vol. ii. p. 15,)— 22.1. The poets have not been deficient. in appearing on 
 the side of justice and hiimariitv This is evident from Mr. Day's and 
 .Mr. Bickncll's Dying Negro; "Miss Helen Williams's Epistle to Mr. 
 I'itt; Mrs Barbauld's Address to Mr. AVilberforce; and Slavery, a 
 poem, written, as is .supposed, by Mr. Roscoe, of Liverpool. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 30d 
 
 such Climes were not severely punished, and even 
 sometimes with death, they would be much more 
 frequently committed, and the community in time 
 destroyed by them. 
 
 1, 2, 4. 5. Valet propositio. 
 
 Puff", de Jure, lib. viii. c. iii. § 6, 7. Hutch. 
 Si/st. c. ix. p. 10 — 14. Beccaria on Crimes 
 and Punis/ime7its, with Voltaire's Comincn- 
 tarij, passim. Principles of Penal Laws, 
 passim. (Understood to have been written 
 by William Eden, Esq. now Lord Auckland.) 
 Paley's Principles of Moral and Political 
 Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 268 — ^302. Godwin's 
 Inquiry concerning Political Justice, vol. ii. 
 p. C87— 759. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 A regard to the public good may in some cases 
 require that an innocent person should be given up 
 to calamity, and even to death : v. g. If a man in- 
 fected with the plague were, in a frenzy, to run up 
 and down to the evident hazard of spreading the 
 contagion ; and many add, when an innocent per- 
 son is demanded by an enemy, against whom the 
 public cannot defend itself. It seems more justifi- 
 able to confiscate the estates of traitors, though 
 thereby innocent children are impoverished ; both 
 that a regard to their familj' may prevent their con- 
 spiring against the government, and that the chil- 
 dren of noble families may be less able to revenge 
 the death of a father. 
 
 Puff. ib. § 33. c. ii. \ 5. Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. 
 
 c. XXV. § 3. Considerations on the Law of 
 
 Forfeiture, passim. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Considering how precious life is, and how much 
 the fear of violent death would imbitter the enjoy- 
 ment of it, virtue requires that capital punishments 
 should he sparingly used ; for murder, none can 
 doubt the reasonableness of them ; but perhaps 
 some mctliods might be found out, in case of theft, 
 that would strike the oflender with so much terror, 
 as to render capital punislimcnts but seldom neces- 
 sary ; and the severity of Draco, in introducing 
 them on the smallest occasions, was greatly to be 
 condemned. 
 
 More's Utopia, p. 145, 146. Spirit of Laws, 
 vol. i. lib. vi. p. IC. Whiston's Life, vol. ii. 
 p. 415 — 470. Stanyan's Gr. Hist. p. 145, 
 146. Mitford's History of Greece, vol. i. p. 
 261, 262. Gillies' s ditto, vol. i. p. 455. 
 Thoughts on the Extension of Penal Laws, 
 passim. 
 
 SCIIOLII M 2. 
 
 Public executions ought to be managed with very 
 great solemnity; and it would be prudent to make 
 a difTcrenec between the kinds of death infiiclcd for 
 dilTercnt crimes, — since perhaps some may be found 
 
 X 
 
 who would dread the pain and shame of some 
 executions, even more than death itself. 
 
 Mandeville on Executions, c. iv. lib. v. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is questioned, Whether a community has a 
 right over its exiles .' but that must be determined 
 by the degree of severity attending the sentence ; 
 for if the exile possesses the revenues of an estate 
 in that country from whence he is driven, it is evi- 
 dent that community has a right and power over 
 him, more than it would otherwise have had. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. v. § 25. Warb. Div. 
 Legation, vol. i. p. 16, 17, and notes. Bott 
 against Warhurton, p. 73 — 78. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is questioned, Whetlier private persons have a 
 right of killing tliose who invade them by violence? 
 — Civilians generally state it thus : — Where com- 
 munities are formed, it is to be considered whether 
 it be the intent of the law, barely to permit, or also 
 to require, such executions. In the former case, 
 V. g. If a man find another in adultery w ith his 
 wife, or if a rape be attempted, or an assault made 
 by a robber, the law, though it permits to kill the 
 aggressor, and thereby frees the slayer from punish- 
 ment, yet cannot justify the action before God. 
 Yet wliere 'tlie Vaw requires such resistance, as in 
 tiie case of soldiers invading a country, tlien it be- 
 comes the duty of the subject to endeavour the 
 destruction of such invaders ; but it seems, that in 
 the former case it is a person's duty too, when, 
 upon the best views he can form of the conse- 
 quences, it appears probable that the immediate 
 slaughter of the aggressor will turn to the public 
 good ; otherwise it is a vicious indulgence of the 
 passion of revenge ; and tliosc who believe a future 
 state ought to be peculiarly solicitous that they do 
 not plunge even an enemy into irrecoverable misery, 
 by cutting him oft" unnecessarily in the act of his 
 Clime. — Prop. 51. Cor. 2. 
 
 Grot. ibid. lib. ii. c. xx. § 17. Puff', dc Jure, 
 lib. ii. c. v. ^ 11, 14. Grove's 3/oral Philo- 
 sophy, vol. ii. p. 353 — 364. 
 
 LECTURE LXXXIIl. 
 
 DEFINITION LVI. 
 Tiloae rules which by a tacit consent arc agreed 
 upon among all communities, at least among those 
 who are reckoned the polite and humanized part of 
 mankind, arc called the laws of nations. 
 
 Grot. ibid. Prolcg. § 17. Grove's Moral Phil. 
 vol. ii. p. 96. Spirit of Laws, vol. i. p. 7,8. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXII. 
 The laws of n.'itions arc to be regarded. 
 
3()G 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 ni-.MONSTnATION. 
 1, Coniinuiiilic'S liavc ccitiiiu afl'airs which must 
 of necessity ho transacted between thcni. 
 
 1. 1. Dispules may arise upon tlicsc, wliich 
 raiuiot bo (letermined by the peculiar civil laws of 
 cither of the contendinji parties. 
 
 2. 3. Recourse must in that case be had to the 
 laws of nations, to prevent disputes, which might 
 otherwise be very niisehievous. 
 
 3. 4. Mutual regard must be paid to these laws. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Hutch. Syst. vol. ii. p. 350, 351. See Vatttl's 
 Le Droit tie Gens, and his Questions dc Droit 
 Nature/. See also the English Translation 
 of the former Work. 
 
 DEFINITION LVII. 
 War is a state wherein men endeavour by open 
 violence to hurt and destroy the persons or pos- 
 sessions of each other. 
 
 Orotius de Jure, lib. i. c. i. ^ 2. Puffend. dc 
 Jure, lib. i. c. i. ^ 8. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 War is a great evil, and virtue will require us to 
 avoid engaging in it, unless circumstances should 
 arise, in which it should appear necessary for the 
 greater good of mankind. Vid. Prop. 51. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXIII. 
 Virtue may in some cases permit, and even re- 
 quire, that men should engage in war. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. The injustice of some is so great, that men 
 will not be able to secure their possessions and 
 their lives in many cases, unless they oppose force 
 to force. 
 
 2. Persons violently oppressing their inoflensive 
 neighbours, without just cause, are so far from 
 being valuable members, that they are the pests of 
 society. 
 
 2. 3. By attempting to destroy such invaders, 
 we may not only secure ourselves, but also many 
 others who might afterwards be swallowed up by 
 them, especially if their power of hurting were 
 strengthened by our submission or destruction. 
 
 1,3. 4. Cases may occur, in which opposing 
 force to force may tend to the public good, /. c. in 
 which virtue may allow and require us to engage in 
 war. Vid. Def.Cj7. Prop. 51. Q. E. D. 
 
 Grot. ibid. lib. i. c. ii. § 1—3. Puffend. ibid, 
 lib. viii. c. vi. § 7. Carmich. in Puff, de 
 Offi. lib. i. c. V. § 17. p. 123, 124. Palei/s 
 Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, 
 vol. ii. p. 408- — 42(). Godwin's Inquiry eon- 
 cernintj Political Justice, vol. ii. p. 511 — 525. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The argument urged in this demonstration, only 
 proves a defensive war to be lawful ; it is questioned, 
 
 Whether it is ever lawful to engage in an offensive 
 war ; 
 
 Ans. It is certainly inhuman, and therefore vi- 
 cious, to begin to hurt unprovoked ; and consider- 
 ing the many calamities brought on mankind by 
 war, virtue will require us to abhor tlie thoiiglit of 
 increasing our dominions and possessions by the 
 ruin of innocent persons ; nevertheless, self-defence 
 will require us to take up arms before we are ac- 
 tually invaded, as it may prevent the intended 
 invasion, and the mutual slaughter which would be 
 consequent upon it ; and will indeed be necessary 
 in order to sustain the first shock, which would 
 otherwise be fatal to the party unprepared ; nay, a 
 regard to our own safety may require us to invade 
 and subdue the country of the aggressor, and to 
 push on our conquest till he is disabled from doing 
 us further miscliicf. 
 
 As to the question, Whether it is lawful to take 
 up arms, in defence of the injured subjects of an- 
 other state, to preserve their civil and religious 
 liberties ? it must be determined by the prospect of 
 good arising from such a war : if there be an ap- 
 parent probability that tyrannical power may be 
 reduced, and the happiness of other states, as well 
 as thfit invaded, may thereby be pron)oled, it seems 
 law ful on the common principles of humanity. 
 
 Puff. ibid. ^ 3. Burn, on Art. p. 3G1. Grot. 
 ibid. lib. ii. c. xx. § 41 — 43. 
 
 DEFINITION LVIII. 
 Pi BLic WAR is that which is undertaken and 
 managed by the authority of the community ; 
 PRIVATE is that which is undertaken and managed 
 without it. Grot. ibid. lib. i. c. iii. § 1. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Private war may sometimes be necessary, where 
 the assault is too sudden to allow an act of the com- 
 munity to authorize resistance. — Vid. Prop. 71. 
 Schol. 4. But, generally, where the prospect of 
 danger is more remote, it is very unwarrantable for 
 persons to form themselves into military bodies, 
 without commission from the civil magistrate, even 
 though it be on pretence of warding off the enemy. 
 Yet it must be acknowledged, there may be cases of 
 public danger so extreme, that the force of the civil 
 law may seem for tliat time to be suspended ; and 
 it is the business of every good man, conscientiously, 
 to judge for himself when these cases occur ; and 
 the business of every wise and good state to indem- 
 nify by a law sucli acts as shall appear to have 
 been so necessitated, though, not being foreseen, 
 they could not have been provided for by laws a 
 priori. Grotius, ibid. § 2. 
 
 SCHOLIUM t. 
 
 Subjects may not, even when commanded by 
 th<'ir prince, engage in any war which they arc fully 
 persuaded is unjust ; but if it appears a duhious 
 
ON PNEUMAtOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 307 
 
 point to them, the same obligation does not hold ; 
 for otherwise, common soldiers could hardly ever 
 engaf^e at all, since they seldom have or can have a 
 full view of all the circumstances of the affair. 
 Nevertheless, officers in the higher ranks are under 
 great obligations to inquire critically into it, both as 
 they have much better o[)portunity of information 
 than their soldiers, and as the part they arc to act 
 in carrying on the war is of much greater importance. 
 Grot. ibid. lib. ii. c. xxvi. § 3—5. Puff- ihid. 
 § 4. Burn, on Art. p. 302. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 He who offered the injury may defend himself, 
 when the party injured has refused an equitable 
 satisfaction proposed : in that case the party injured 
 becomes the aggressor; much more may subjects 
 defend themselves, even when their prince has been 
 to blame, if the enemy endeavour to avenge the 
 quarrel, not on the person of the prince, but on his 
 innocent subjects. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. i. § 18. c. xxvi. § 6. 
 Puff, de Jure, lib. ii. c. v. § 19. 
 
 LECTURE LXXXIV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The violence of war is to be attempered, a.smueh 
 as may be consistent with securing the good ends 
 proposed by it. An unnecessary waste of the ene- 
 mies' goods, (vid. Deut. xx. 19, 20.) and much more 
 of their blood, is to be avoided, and especially rapes, 
 which injure the person by, as well as those upon, 
 whom they are committed ; nor are women and 
 children to be slaughtered, unless women be found 
 in active war, and then they are to be treated as 
 other soldiers ; but it is to be observed, that we 
 here, and in all this part of the work, speak only 
 of war as undertaken on the principles of the com- 
 mon rights of mankind, not pretending to dispute 
 the right which God has to doom any of his crea- 
 tures to death, in such circumstances as he shall see 
 fit, and to make some of them executioners on 
 others. 
 
 Grol. de Jure, lib. iii. c. iv. § If), c. xiii. ^ -1. 
 Hutch. Sj/s. 3. X. 0. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is questioned, How far stralaijems in war are 
 lawful? 
 
 Ann. It may be lawful fo deceive the enemy by 
 dubious actions, which may probably be interpreted 
 wrong; and the rather, as there is a kind of uni- 
 versal agreement to .suspect each other, where no 
 treaties are commenced, .so that faith among men i.s 
 not so much injured by these as by other deceits. 
 X '2 
 
 Yet there is a degree of honour to be observed, even 
 towards an enemy ; and a direct lie, especially a 
 false oath, should by no means be allowed. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. iii. c. 1. § 17, 20. c. xix. § !. 
 Puff, de Jure, lib. viii. c. vi. § 6. Telcnmrjuc, 
 lib. XX. p. 426—4.32. Hutch, ib. §6. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 The laws of nations are to be observed in war ; 
 and these forbid violating the persons of nmhassa- 
 dors, (seeing this would make wars perpetual, as 
 none would venture to mediate a peace,) hiring sol- 
 diers to assassinate their general, or subjects their 
 prince, and poisoning the enemy by weapons, water, 
 or any other method. 
 
 Grot. ib. lib. iii.c. iv. §15 — 18. lib. ii. e. xviii. 
 
 § 2, 3, 7. Puff. ib. § 18. 3Iore's Utopia, p. 
 
 158—164. Hutch, ib. § 12—14. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 0. 
 
 It is much queried. Whether temples dedicated 
 to God may be spoiled of their treasures by the 
 conqueror ? 
 
 Ans. Those treasures being in some degree still 
 the property of the state, and therefore used in times 
 of great extremity for its defence, the conqueror 
 may justly seize them ; yet care should be taken to 
 avoid any circumstances of rudeness and irreve- 
 rence, lest by that means religion should be brought 
 into contempt. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. iii. c. xii. § 6. Prideaux's 
 Connect, vol. ii. p. 25, 26. Anno Ante Chris- 
 tum, 278. vol. iii. p. 35. Works of the Learn- 
 ed, for March 1738, Art. 16. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXIV. 
 To inquire how far government may justly be 
 founded in conquest. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DK MONSTR ATION. 
 
 1. The victor in a just war may sec it necessary 
 (in order to repair the expenses and losses sustain- 
 ed, in order to punish those who have been inju- 
 rious to the public peace, and that he may prevent 
 future assaults from the vanquished) to make him- 
 self king of a conquered country, and to model the 
 laws of it in such a manner as he shall on the whole 
 judge fit and be may be jusfilied in doing it. 
 Nevertheless, if the person.s so conquered enter 
 themselves into no engagements to him, it may rea- 
 sonably be expected that they should take the first 
 opportunity to throw olT his yoke, and they are not 
 obliged to submit to it so much as that of their 
 natural sovereign : yet virtue will require them to 
 be cautious that they do not make their ow n con- 
 dition and that of the public worse, by a precipi- 
 tate resistance. 
 
 2. If a prince, by an unjust war, or any other 
 unrighteous method, have possessed himself of the 
 government, and uses it well, though he gained it 
 ill, virtue will require that he be obeyed ; at least 
 
.108 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 till the person to uliom it l)clonp;s be able and w ill- 
 mg to assert liis rifjlit, w Uh some probable (irospcct 
 of success : for it is eerlainly better that an usurper 
 should govern, than that there should be no <i!;o\t^rn- 
 nicnt at all. 
 
 .1. It seems reasonable, that if the rif^htful prince, 
 or at least his innnediatc successor, be not al)Ie to 
 assert his claiu), but the government continue for a 
 considerai)le time in the liands or family of an 
 usurper, lonp; possession sliouUl make up tlie defect 
 of an orii;inal title, lest the encouragement of anti- 
 quated claims should throw nations into confusion, 
 and, by a parity or reason, private families too. 
 
 Pn/f. de Jure, lib. viii. c. \i. § 24. lib. vii. e. 
 
 vii. § 3, 4. c. viii. § 9, 10. Loche on (lov. 
 
 part ii. c. xvi. xvii. Camb. on Gov. e. viii. 
 
 L' Esprit dcs Loix, vol. i.- lib. x. c. iii — ix. 
 
 llntvh. Syst. 3. viii. 4 — 8. 
 
 SCHOl.H'M. 
 
 The rights of hostages and captives arc to be 
 settled by the law of nations ; but it is plain that 
 neither hostages, when upon public faith, nor slaves, 
 when they have by compact obliged themselves to 
 their masters, may be allowed to desert, unless ex- 
 treme injury be ollcrcd. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. iii. c. xiv. ^ 7. lib. iii. c. 
 xix. ^ 64. 
 
 LECTURE LXXXV. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXV. 
 To inquire into the principal branches of human 
 or personal virti'.e. 
 
 SOU TION AND DEMONSTKATION. 
 
 1 . Since tlic liappiness of a rational creature must 
 chiefly depend upon the state of his own mind, 
 virtue requires that great care be taken of it, parti- 
 cularly to furnish it with such knowledge as may 
 be delightful and useful. 
 
 Foster s Serm. vol. iv. i. Grove's Posth. Worhs, 
 vol. ii. No. 11 — 13. Ahcrnethij's Disc. vol. 
 ii. No. 5. 
 
 2. As we may, by a heedless conduct, be betrayed 
 into numberless evils, virtue requires that we 
 should attentively consider our circumstances in 
 life, and often reflect on our conduct. 
 
 Lnrdners Ctmnseh of Prudence. Groves Worhs, 
 vol. ii. p. 221 — 242. 
 
 3. Since we are compounded of body as well as 
 mind, virtue will require a proper care of the body, 
 that on the one hand, it may not want any thing 
 necessary for its subsistence, health, and vigour ; 
 and, on the other, that it may not be indulged in 
 such excesses as, lio«cvcr pleasant at first, might 
 at length enfeeble and destroy it. 
 
 Collier's Ess. part ii. No. 17. Stuhhes' Dial. 
 
 on Pleasure. Protest. Si/st. vol. ii. No. 12. 
 
 Fordijce's Serm. on the Love of Pleasure. 
 
 Abern. Disc. vol. ii. No. 16. 
 4. As it is impossible to be happy while our 
 minds arc the sport of irregular appetites and 
 passions, virtue will require a due guard upon 
 these; that llie agreeable things of life may not be 
 objects of excessive desire, hope, or joy; and that 
 the evils of it may not overwhelm us with fear, with 
 grief, or resentment, nor its uncertainty with ex- 
 cessive solicitude. 
 
 Watts on the Pass. ^ lo — 24. Grove's Posth. 
 
 Worhs, vol. iv. No. 6. Grove's Ethics, p. 
 
 257—287. 
 
 .5. As many disorders of body and mind may take 
 their rise from idleness, virtue v^ill, on the preced- 
 ing principles, require that we keep ourselves in a 
 series of useful employments and labour, to improve 
 every proportion of our time well ; proper allow- 
 ance being made for such recreation as animal 
 nature requires. 
 
 B(tlf/ui/'s Ser?nons, vol. ii. No. 8. Grove on 
 
 Itccrcations, passim. 
 G. That wc may not be led into undertakings 
 (lisproportioned to our strength, that we may not 
 expeottoo high regard from others, nor be too keenly 
 impressed with a sense of slights and injuries, as 
 well as for many other important reasons, virtue 
 will require us to moderate our opinion of ourselves, 
 in proportion to the degree aiid value of our real 
 advantages, whether of mind, of body, or estate. 
 Coll. Ess. part i. No. 1. Watts on Humility, 
 
 passim. Scott's Christian Life, vol. i. c. iii. 
 
 § 1 ; Part i. Worhs, vol. i. p. 18 — 23. 
 
 Carmich. Suppl. to Puff, de Off'. lib. i. e. v. 
 
 § 2. Wright's Great. Concern, p. 113—125. 
 
 Fordycc's Mural Phil. lib. ii. ^ 2. Grove's 
 
 Ethics, vol. ii. part ii. c. ii — v. Grove's 
 
 Serm. vol. v. No. 10, 11. Price on Morals, 
 
 p. 258—263. Bcattie's Elements of Moral 
 
 Science, vol. ii. p. 105 — 123. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It may be observed, that the first and second of 
 these steps comprehend prudence and consideration ; 
 the third, temperance, chastity, and mortif cation ; 
 the fourth, fortitude, contentment, meekness, and 
 moderation ; the f\M\, diliyence ; the last, humility; 
 and thus the distribution in effect coincides with 
 those of Scott, Wright, &c. 
 
 SCUOLU'M 2. 
 
 Thoughts tending to vice are no furtlier criminal 
 tlian as they are approved and indulged by the 
 will. Drf. 38. 
 
 Ostcrv. of Unclean. § 1. c. vii. p. 72 — 74. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Though a constant care should be taken (on the 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 309 
 
 principles laid down yr. 3.) to maintain such mo- 
 deration in the articles of food, dress, sleep, &c. as 
 may prevent the mind from being enslaved to the 
 body ; and though it be prudence in us to inure 
 ourselves to such hardships as may be expected in 
 a worthy and honourable passage through life, it 
 is by no means necessary to deny ourselves in every 
 thing which gives pleasure to the senses ; for God 
 lias placed us in such circumstances, that some 
 pleasures are unavoidable ; (the benevolence of his 
 nature no doubt engaging him to delight in the 
 happiness of his creatures;) it is, therefore, ingrati- 
 tude to him, as well as injustice to ourselves, to 
 throw back his gifts upon his hands, as if they were 
 snares rather than favours. To which we may add, 
 that in the circumstances in which mankind now 
 are, were all the elegances and ornaments of life to 
 be renounced, many families must be undone, who 
 are now maintained by an honest labour in furnish- 
 ing them out, and maintained more cheerfully, and 
 indeed more safely, than they could merely by alms. 
 Philem. to Hydaspes, part ii. pras. p. 2G — 64, 
 91, ad Jin. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXVI. 
 To inquire into some of the principal means of 
 promoting virtue in the soul. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Virtue may be promoted by attentive hearing 
 and reading discourses on divine subjects, and 
 seriously meditating upon them ; all which may 
 serve to assist us in forming right notions of God, 
 and in judging of our duty, and may awaken us to 
 the practice of it. 
 
 2. External acts of adoration and praise may 
 promote as well as express inward veneration. 
 
 Atterh. Post. Serm. vol. ii. No. vii. p. 191 — 203. 
 
 2. Earnest and frequent prayers to God may 
 greatly tend to promote virtue ; for though they 
 can neither inform nor move him, yet they may 
 bring us to a proper temper for receiving his mer- 
 cies. And if any object, That God has established 
 such an order of things as he will not alter in com- 
 pliance witii the entreaties of his creatures, — it may 
 be replied. That this order was no doubt established 
 in connexion with and in correspondence to tlic 
 view which the Divine Being always had of tiic 
 prayers and temper of his rational creatures ; and 
 husbandry, and all the most necessary labours of 
 life, might as reasonably be argued against as 
 prayer, on the force of this objection. 
 
 Bitni. Life of Roch. p. .02, 53, 00—64. Sltljb. 
 on Div. Rev. p. 36 — 12. Bens, of Prayer, 
 p. 13 — 21. ILhot's Serm. vol. ii. Serm. 10, 
 11, 12; On the Duty and Benefit of Prayer. 
 Shcrhiek on Provid. edit. 9. p. aoi — 102. 
 Dr. Price's Dissertations, Diss. 2. Oyden's 
 Serm. on Prayer. Kippis's Sermotis, Serm. 
 
 7. Palei/'s Principles of Moral and Political 
 
 Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 31 — 17. 7th ed. Re- 
 
 liy. of Nat. p. 103, 104. Leechman's Serm. 
 
 on Prayer, pras, p. 14,24, 25. Glasg. edit. 
 
 (r'rove on Secret Prayer, Ess. 1. Kiny's 
 
 Oriyin of Evil, 5. v. 4. pras. par. 7 — 13. 
 
 Ahernethy on Attrib. vol. ii. p. 401 — 415. 
 4. It is proper that men should meet in religious 
 assemblies, to join in divine worship, as thereby a 
 public honour is done to God ; and the hearts of 
 men may be fixed and quickened by beholding the 
 devotion of each other. 
 
 Price, ibid. p. 257—267. Protest. Syst. vol. ii. 
 
 Sermon 8. Collib. on Nat. and Rev. Rel. 
 
 p. 25. Seattle's Elements of Moral Science, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 84—87.* 
 4. 5. It is proper that some person should be 
 appointed, whose chief business it should be to 
 preside in these assemblies, — since by this means, 
 religious offices will be performed in a manner most 
 tending to common edification. 
 
 4. G. Lest the civil business of some should in- 
 terfere with the religious appointment of others, it 
 is proper that some time should be set apart by 
 common consent for religious purposes : besides, 
 that the rest of beasts and servants may require 
 some such appointments ; which, therefore, have 
 made a part of the religious constitution of almost 
 all nations. 
 
 Watts's Holin. of Times and Places, p. 3 — 6 ; 
 Works, vol. ii. p. 396. Fast. Serm. on the 
 Morality of the Sabbath, 4 vols. 8vo. vol. 4. 
 7. It may be proper that fasting should sometimes 
 he joined with other acts of divine worship, to pro- 
 mote more intense devotion, to express our humi- 
 liation for sin, and to promote that command of the 
 mind over the body, which is suited to the con- 
 stitution of a rational being. 
 
 Limb. Theol. lib. v. c. Ixxv. § 3, 4. Amory's 
 Dial, on Devot. 
 
 * Tlir Andinrity, Propripty, an.l ITillity of Public AVorsliip, liave 
 LilLly U cii called in (iimtlnn hy Uie Hi v. Gillii rt Wakefield, in au 
 l'ji(|iiiry fuiircniinjj that subject, T<» this publication answers were 
 Kiveii by a lady, under the name of Lusebia. in Cursory Remarks on 
 an I'.niiiiiry, 6te ; by Mrs. Ilarbanlil, in Remarks on Mr. Wakefield's 
 KiKpiiry ; liy James Wilson, M. A. in Defence of Public or Social 
 Worshiii; by Dr. Priestley, in Letters to a young- Man ; by the Rev. 
 J. Bruckner, in Thoughts on Pnblir Worship ; by Mr. linrKes, in 
 Remarks, 6tc. ; by Mr. Parry, in A Vindication of Public and Social 
 V\'orship ; by Mr. Pope, in his ICssiiy. entitled Divine W'orship founded 
 in Nature, and supported by Scripture .Authority ; and in Remarks, 
 &c. by a Layman. Two Sermons were likewise preached and publislieti 
 upon the (jiieslioii; one hy Dr. Disney, and the other by Mr. Simp- 
 son. Mr. Waki liehl, in his (general Reply to the Arguments against 
 the r.iKpiiry into Public Worship, has partly given up the point ; and 
 in the second edition of his [inquiry, he has sketched a Plan of Public 
 U'orship in which he cotild acfpnesce. The controversy .scenis now 
 to be for ever decided ; and it lias had the advantage of sliowing that 
 the jiractice of public and social worslii)) stands supported upon the 
 umiucstionablc foundation of reason siid Scripture. 
 
310 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURK LXXXVI. 
 
 SCUOLIl'M 1. 
 
 Those tilings are only to be asked of God in 
 prauT whii-h are of some eonsidcrable importance, 
 l>y wliii'h our truest happiness may probably be 
 promoted, and which tliere appears some hope of 
 obtainiup;; and wliere it is dubious, as witli respect 
 to nuuiy temporal enjoyments it is, wliether obtain- 
 ing- our petitions will be on the whole for our 
 advantafve, we arc to ask these things only con- 
 ditionally, with a becoming submission to the 
 superior w isdom of God. 
 
 Juven. Sat. x. Plato's Alcibiadcs. ii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is questioned, Whether we may pray for what 
 we are sure God will give or do ? 
 
 Ans. There can be no doubt of this, if our asking 
 it be the condition of its being bestowed or done : 
 nor can we, without a revelation, be absolutely sure 
 of any future event, how probable soever : and it 
 seems, that if a promise were absolutely given, we 
 might justly plead it with God in prayer, thereby to 
 promote our conformity to the Divine Will, our 
 expectation of the blessing, and fitness to receive 
 it ; but such prayers ought to be managed, so as not 
 to intimate any doubt of the Divine veracity, but, on 
 the contrary, to express a firm and joyful reliance 
 upon it. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is allowed that ybrm* of prayer may help the 
 ignorant and weak, and may prevent public devo- 
 tion from falling into that contempt, of which there 
 might othenvise be danger when such persons are 
 to olliciate ; as also from being made the vehicle of 
 conveying the errors and irregular passions, which 
 particular persons so oflTiciating might otherwise 
 mingle with them ; they may also be useful in secret 
 and family worship, and even to persons of the best 
 capacity, in seasons when they are out of frame for 
 the duty. Yet it is very unreasonable that per- 
 sons in public or private should be confined to 
 forms, since they cannot suit all eircurastances ; 
 and a frequent repetition of the same words, tends 
 to deaden those afl'eetions which ought to accom- 
 pany prayer. 
 
 The chief objections against extemporary or free 
 prayer are, 
 
 1. That the mind cannot, without great disturb- 
 ance and dissipation of tliought, give that attention 
 and examination to it which is necessary to a 
 rational assent and concurrence. 
 
 2. That the auditory may be disquieted with the 
 fear lest the person officiating should fall into some 
 impropriety or absurdity of expression inconsistent 
 with the reverence due to the Divine Being, and the 
 improvement of his fellow-worshippers. 
 
 To {\i<: former we reply, by appealing to experi- 
 ence as an evidence of the quickness of the mind in 
 its operations, to which the quickness of words bears 
 but little proportion. A probable guess may be 
 made at the tendency of a sentence from its begin- 
 ning, especially when due care is taken that sen- 
 tences be not drawn out to an immoderate length, 
 and wJien any book supposed sacred, furnishes out 
 much of the language. — As to the latter, experience 
 also shows, that persons of no extraordinary genius 
 are capable of praying without gross absurdity, or 
 impropriety of expression ; so that where the abili- 
 ties of the person are known, tlie probability of his 
 running into them is so small, as not at all to aflect 
 the mind ; and there is a possibility that a reader 
 may mistake, 
 
 Bennet's Abridy. of Land. Cases, p. 72 — 78. 
 Itel. of Nat. p. 122—124. Pierce's Vind. of 
 Diss. lib. iii. e. iv. p. 398, 399, 404—400'. 
 Jacks, on Lord's Prayer, pref. p. 7. Limb. 
 Theol. lib. v. c. xxv. ^ 28. Halif. Char, of » 
 T'rimmer, p. 45, 46. Baxt. Works, vol. i. 
 p. 671. Watts's MisccL p. 202—213 ; Works, 
 vol. iv. p. 537 — 542. Dr. John Taylor's 
 Scripture Account of Prayer. Public Prayer, 
 a Treatise ayuinst Forms, in two parts, 12mo, 
 1766, part i. c. i— iv. p. 13 — 60. Disquisi- 
 tions relating to the Dissenters, 12mo, 1767, 
 c. i — iy. for Written Forms. Paley's Prin- 
 ciples of Moral and Political Philosophy, vol. 
 ii. p. 58—67. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Where liturgies are established by public autho- 
 rity, great care ought to be taken that there be no 
 phrases in them likely to lead men into hurtful 
 mistakes, — seeing the veneration quickly contracted 
 for such offices, would render it exceeding difficult 
 to eradicate an error so imbibed. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is our duty to pray for others, — since hereby 
 our benevolence for them is expressed and in- 
 creased ; and it is the only way by which we can 
 express it to far the greatest part of our species. 
 Price's Dissertations, No. 2. p. 221—227, 237— 
 239. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 It is the duty of the community to take care that 
 there be able teachers, of a virtuous character, 
 that so virtue may be promoted in it. Nothing 
 therefore should be done to deter fit persons from 
 undertaking the work, by subscriptions, oaths, &e. 
 which would be most likel}' in some cases to ex- 
 elude the most valuable men. It is also fit that the 
 community by whom they are employed, should 
 allow them sucli subsistence that they may pursue 
 their studies without avocation, and may be fitted 
 for performing their office in a manner most honour- 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 311 
 
 able to tbe Divine Being;, and most edifying to tliosc 
 among wiiom they officiate. 
 
 Recs of Maintenance. Hutch, Syst, vol. ii. p. 
 3U)— 312. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 Great care ought to be taken that religion be not 
 overburthened with ceremonies ; for the mind of 
 man is of so limited a nature, that by an over-exact 
 attendance to these, greater things will probably be 
 neglected ; and the diversity of tastes, education, 
 &c. will probably lead men into differences with 
 respect to them, w hich, if they be too much regard- 
 ed, will be very detrimental to that benevolence 
 which they ought to maintain for each other. 
 
 Tind. Cliristianitij as old, &c. p. 123, 124. 
 Gcddes's Tracts, Tol. iv. p. 205—225. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 Though prayer and praise have been mentioned 
 above, as the means of virtue, yet they are not onhj 
 to be considered in that view ; they are certainly a 
 part of the duty we owe to God, as well as proper 
 means of disposing us to the other branches of virtue ; 
 and it would appear unnatural, under a deep sense 
 of our dependence upon and our obligations to the 
 Divine Being, never to express it in any kind of 
 address to him, though we believe him continually 
 present with us. Dr. Price's Second Dissertation. 
 
 LECTURE LXXXVIT. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXVm. 
 Virtue requires that the civil magistrate should not 
 so interpose in matters of religion, or rites of wor- 
 ship, as to inflict any penalties on his subjects upon 
 account of them, so long as nothing is done pre- 
 judicial to the peace of the community. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 
 Prop. 49. (/)•. 23. 1. Virtue, and consequently 
 religion, which is that branch of it that more im- 
 mediately relates to God, consists not merely in the 
 external performance of an action, but in a corres- 
 pondent temper and disposition of soul. 
 
 2. Compulsion only influences the external 
 actions, and can by no means convince the under- 
 standing. 
 
 1,2. 3. Such severities cannot make men re- 
 ligious, but are rather likely to make them hypo- 
 crites. 
 
 .3. 4. Persecution for conscience-sake must be 
 prejudicial to the public, by corrupting the charac- 
 ters of men. 
 
 5. The persons persecuted must probably be 
 brought into a very unhappy condition by it ; for if 
 
 they renounce their profession, they subject them- 
 selves to great remorse, while they secretly believe 
 it to be true ; and if they maintain it, penalties are 
 incurred, by which ruin may be brought on them- 
 selves and their families. 
 
 6. The minds of men are naturally prejudiced in 
 favour of a religion for which men sufler hardships, 
 though they do nothing injurious to the public 
 peace. 
 
 7. Persecutions may promote the cause they are 
 intended to destroy, and by increasing the number 
 of its votaries may occasion insurrections, which 
 may be extremely detrimental to the public tran- 
 quillity. 
 
 Tert. ad St ap. c. v. ad fin. Apol. c. i. Boi/le's 
 Occas. Meditations, p. 145 — 148,^ 5. No. 2. 
 4, 5, 7. 8. The magistrate, by interposing in 
 these eases, v^ould prejudice the public rather than 
 serve it ; and therefore virtue requires him to for- 
 bear such interpositions. 
 
 Moylc's Post. Works, vol. i. p. 24—26. War- 
 burton's Div. Legation, vol. i. p. 30-i, 305. 
 Owen's Syn. Pneum. p. 137—139. Tind. 
 Riyhts of the C/ir. CItur. part i. e. i. § 20. 
 Montes. Spirit of Laws, lib. xxv. c. xiii. vol. 
 ii. p. 183 — 18G. Doddridye's Serin, on Per- 
 sec. Old Whig, vol. i. No. v. vi. viii. ix. x. 
 Fost. Serm. vol. i. No. vi. Watts' s Essay on 
 Civil Power in Things Sacred, % 3, 7, 10. 
 Appendix in the last vol. of his Works. Vol- 
 taire on Toleration. Fowncs's Inquiry into 
 the Principles of Toleration, edit. 3. Fur- 
 neuux's Essay oh Toleration. Ditto's Letters 
 to 31 r. Justice Blackstone, edit. 2. Six Let- 
 ters on Intolerance. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The history of religion in most countries, and the 
 many calamities which liave arisen from persecu- 
 tion, greatly tend to illustrate and confirm the last 
 steps of this demonstration ; and perhaps there is 
 no part of history more instructive, though none be 
 more melancholy. 
 
 Occas. Pap. vol. i. No. iv. p. 18 — 22. Temp. 
 Xctherl. p. IGG — 109, 175. Gcddes's Account 
 of the Inquisition, yip. Tracts, vol. i. 
 Gcddes's Hist, of the Expulsion of the 3Io- 
 riscoes, ibid. vol. i. Aew Advent, of Tele- 
 machus. Chandler's Hist, of Persccut. pass. 
 
 DKMONSTRATION II. 
 
 1. There are a variety of religions in the «<)rld, 
 which are so inconsistent, that it is impossible they 
 sliould all be true. 
 
 2. If it be the duty of the magistrale to establish 
 and defend any religion by penalties, he must es- 
 tablish and defend that whicli he fakes to be true. 
 
 3. There is reason to believe that the generality 
 of men take their own religion to be true. 
 
312 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 1,2, 3. 4. M;iti\ magistrates in tlie world, and 
 perhaps the fcreatost part of thoin, would be oblijted 
 (if the contrary to tlie proposition w ere true) to per- 
 secute truth and establish falsehood. Q. E. D. 
 Old Wi'iiff, vol. i. No. xxxiii. Price's Morals, 
 p. 313, 314. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To the whole reasoning in Dem. 1. it is objected, 
 That some errors in opinion and in worship arc so 
 displeasing to God, that tlie toleration of thcni would 
 (luickly bring down his vengeance upon the pub- 
 lic, w hicli it is the magistrate's business to endeavour 
 to preserve. 
 
 Alls. It seems that opinions and practices so 
 provoking to God must be highly contrary to reason, 
 and therefore that the prevalcncy of them might be 
 prevented by a rational debate, without having re- 
 course to violence ; and if in some few instances 
 they should prevail, there may be danger, lest God 
 sliould be more provoked by attempting to root 
 them out, by methods so detrimental to human 
 society, and to tlie cause of truth {Dem. 2.) ; v^ hich 
 this objection itself supposes to be the cause of 
 God. Nevertheless, it must be acknovvledged, that 
 if God should give any nation convincing proofs 
 that he would visit it with some extraordinary 
 calamity and judgment, if any particular religion 
 were violated among them, this would indeed alter 
 the case, and justify such a magistrate in fencing it 
 with such penal laws, as in other cases would be 
 unjustifiable ; but if a magistrate rashly concludes 
 this to be the case of the people under his govern- 
 ment, he is answerable to God for all those injuries 
 which he may do them and religion upon this false 
 supposition ; and as for Christianity, it does not 
 treat with nations as such ; nor does the New Tes- 
 tament contain declarations of vengeance against 
 the nations rejecting it, however virtuous they may 
 be, but only treats with particular persons, as those 
 who shall be finally happy or miserable as it is 
 received or rejected. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 To Dent. 1. ffr. 5. it is objected. That it may be 
 kindness to the person suffering, to endeavour by 
 such severity to reclaim him from such notions 
 and practices which (supposing what is generally 
 granted in this debate, the immortality of the soul) 
 may expose him to the danger of eternal ruin. 
 
 Ans. It appears hy gr. 3. of that Demonstration, 
 That persecution is not the way to prevent it, but 
 rather to bring on further guilt, by adding hypo- 
 crisy to error; and if it be said that by this means 
 at least others are preserved, — it is answered, That 
 the evidence itself may be sufficient, without vio- 
 lence, to ])reserve men from such gross and danger- 
 ous errors as the objection supposes. If it be 
 further pleaded, that the corruption of their natures 
 
 will lead tlicm to error, if human terrors be not 
 employed to restrain them from it, — it may be 
 answered. Persecution tends to beget a suspicion in 
 the minds of the cause to be supported by it ; — the 
 magistrate cannot by any means prevent and cure 
 all the secret abominations of the heart, but many 
 of them must be referred to the judgment of God ; 
 and upon this principle it might be allowable to 
 liersecute any notion wliatsoevcr, which the fury 
 and uncharitableness of the magistrate might call 
 a damnable error. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 To ffr. 2. Dew. 1. it is objected. That severity 
 may bring men to examine, — and examination may 
 introduce a rational conviction. 
 
 Ans. Arguments so offered are not likely to work 
 upon the mind ; — and the magistrate seems to have 
 done his part, if he has taken care that the argu- 
 ment should be fairly, clearly, and strongly pro- 
 posed ; nor is it w^orth while to risk so much evil 
 for the sake of people that will not be persuaded to 
 inquire, — especially since the generality of such 
 people usually go into the prevailing religion, 
 which is that of the magistrate, and rest there. 
 
 Grot. (Ic Jure, 2, 20, 44. Shaftesbury's Charac- 
 teristics, vol. iii. p. 107. Loche's Essay, 4. 
 xvi. 4. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 To the argument of Dem. 2. it is generally replied, 
 That none are obliged to use violence in defence of 
 their religion, but those whose religion is true ; but 
 then the question returns. Who is that person? 
 Every man will say it is he ; and the controversy 
 will be eternal, and all the mischief arising from it 
 perpetual, unless some one person or body of men 
 can give the world convincing proof that they are 
 in the right ; and then there will be no further 
 room for persecution, even on the principles of our 
 adversaries. 
 
 Bayle's Philos. Commentary on Lulce xiv. 23. 
 Conyb. Scrm. on E.vpecl. of Rev. p. 17 — 21. 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Many insist upon the right of punishing those 
 who leach false religions, though they confess that 
 men are not to be obliged to profess the true ; but see- 
 ing a man may think himself obliged in conscience 
 to endeavour the propagation of a religion, as well 
 as himself to believe and practise it, most of the 
 reasonings in both Demonstrations will take place 
 here. Nevertheless, we readily allow that the magis- 
 trate, or any religious community, may deprive a 
 teacher of any salary or emolument, given him at 
 first as a teacher of truth, if he appear in the judg- 
 ment of that person or society to become a teacher 
 of error ; — but this by no means comes within the 
 case condemned in the proposition. 
 
 Scottish Confess. Pref. p. 62—58. Old Whiy, 
 No. iv. p. 37, 38. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 SCHOLIt'M 6. 
 
 The doctrines of Atheism, human sacrifices, and 
 community of women or floods, are so evidently 
 detrimental to society, that many who have in gene- 
 ral condemned penal laws in religion, have allowed 
 ihcm with regard to these, as well as to those who 
 deny the essential diflerence between virtue and 
 vice. 
 
 We readily allow, that if by any overt act in con- 
 sequence of these doctrines, any subjects of the so- 
 ciety be injured, the aggressor ought to be severely 
 punished, and his pretences to conscience to be ad- 
 mitted as no excuse in these cases, or any others ; 
 but these jiotions are so notoriously absurd, that 
 there is little danger that upon a free examination 
 they should prevail, especially in a civilized coun- 
 try ; and the danger there would be of admitting 
 persecution on any pretence whatsoever, seems an 
 equivalent for the damage the public would sustain, 
 by permitting them to be publicly defended while 
 they reached no further than speculation. 
 
 Alliance between Cliui ch and State, p. 118 — 121. 
 Old Whig, vol. i. No. xiii. xiv. xvi. xviii. 
 xxxvi. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 If a body of men, as the Papists among us. hold 
 principles which will not allow them to give the 
 government security for their peaceable behaviour, 
 and yet bring them under strong suspicion of being 
 engaged in designs subversive of it, the government 
 may in that case weaken them by lieavier taxations 
 than are laid upon other subjects ; especially if the 
 probable suspicion of their disaflection puts the 
 public to any additional charge ; and it seems only 
 so far as this principle will justify it, that our laws 
 against the Papists can be vindicated, on the foot of 
 natural religion, not now to inquire into any sup- 
 posed revelation. 
 
 Sermons ar/ainst Popery, at Salters Hall, vol. 
 
 i. p. 30—38. Locke on Tul. Let. 1. pasn. 
 
 Dad. Serm. on Pcrscc. p. 6—19, 20 — 28. Old 
 
 Whig, vol. i. No. xi. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 Some have represented all encouragement given 
 to one religious profession in preference to another, 
 as a degree of persecution ; but this seems to be 
 carrying the matter into a contrary extreme. Both 
 a regard to the honour of God and the good of 
 society, (which surely the magistrate is not the only 
 person under no obligation to,) must engage him to 
 desire and labour that his people may be instructed 
 in what he takes to be truth ; for m hich purpose it 
 w ill he necessary that some provision be made for 
 those that so instruct them, preferable to other in- 
 structors : that he may maintain such out of his pri- 
 vate purse, none can doubt ; and if he have a dis- 
 cretionary power with respect to any branch of the 
 
 public revenue, it seems he may apply it to this 
 purpose, even though most of his people were of a 
 different religious persuasion from himself; and for 
 any who teach different doctrines, or will not sub- 
 mit to the ritual he thinks fit to establish, to claim 
 the same emoluments from him, seems an invasion 
 of that right of private judgment, which the magis- 
 trate and others joined with him must be allowed to 
 have, as to the manner in which either his revenue 
 or theirs shall be disposed of; but then it must be 
 allowed that it will be matter of duty and pru- 
 dence in the magistrate, and those that join with 
 him, to make his establishment as large as he can ; 
 that no worthy and good men, who might as esta- 
 blished teachers be useful to the public, may un- 
 necessarily be hampered and excluded ; and for 
 this he will be answerable to God. If the majority 
 of the people by their representatives join with the 
 magistrate in such establishments, it will be the 
 duty of t!ie minority, though they cannot in con- 
 science conform themselves, yet to be thankful that 
 they are left in the possession of their own liberty, 
 as by the reasoning above they certainly ought to 
 be. If it be asked. Whether such dissenters may 
 regularly be forced by the magistrate and majority 
 to assist in maintaining established teachers whom 
 they do not approve? it is answered. That this will 
 stand upon the same footing with their contributing 
 towards the expense of a w ar w hich they think not 
 necessary or prudent. If no such coercive power 
 were admitted, it is probable that covetousness 
 would drive many into dissenting parties, in order 
 to save their tithes or other possessions. So that 
 none can reasonably blame a government for re- 
 quiring such general contributions ; and in this 
 case, it seems fit it should be yielded to, as the 
 determination of those to whose guardianship these 
 dissenters have committed themselves and their 
 possessions ; but if the majority disapprove of the 
 conduct of their governor in this respect, it must 
 stand upon the same footing with the right of resist- 
 ance in any other case, in which the people appre- 
 hended themselves to be betrayed by their governor. 
 Dunlop's Preface to Scottish Confess. Abern. 
 Tracts, p. 170 — 170. I'nrneaux's Letters to 
 Mr. Justice Blachstonc, Let. 1, latter part. 
 
 LECTURE LXXXVIII. 
 
 PROI'OSITION LXXVllI. 
 Virtue prohibits any man to put a period to his 
 own life. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION'. 
 1. Self-murder plainly implies a w ant of reverence 
 
314 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 for God, ;uul rcsisjiialion to liis m ill, who is llie Loril 
 of JilV ami (loath, and has assigned to every man 
 his post in lite, to bo niaintaiued till he shall dis- 
 miss him from it. 
 
 2. It is generally injurious to the public, in dc- 
 fraudinj; it of a member who niifjht some way or 
 other bo useful to it, and introducing an example 
 whi<;h mifiht be very pernicious. 
 
 3. It brin<;s great distress, and often great in- 
 famy, on surviving relatives and friends. 
 
 4. It argues a dishonourable weakness of mind, 
 in not being able to endure the calamities of life, 
 wliieli many others, whose passions are well govern- 
 ed, support with serenity and cheerfulness. 
 
 5. If there be a future state (whieli we shall after- 
 wards prove) it may, in consequence of the preced- 
 ing arguments, bring irreparable damage on the 
 person himself, who dies in an action highly dis- 
 pleasing to God, and cuts off the possibility of 
 further preparation. 
 
 1, 5. G. Self-murder is contrary to the duty we 
 owe to God, to ourselves, and our fellow-creatures, 
 by the preceding propositions, and therefore con- 
 trary to virtue. Q. E. D. 
 
 Watts (Kjainst Se1f-3Inrder, p. 4—8, 39 — 41, 
 
 47 — 52 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 358, 359, and p. 
 
 368, 309. Clarke of Nat. and Rev. Rcl. p. 
 
 207—211. Puff, de Jure, lib. ii. e. iv. § 19. 
 
 Cic. Somn. Scip. ap. Off. p. 229. Grerv. e. 
 
 iii. ed. ibid. Tiisc. Disp. lib. i. e. xxx. 
 
 Gronoi his, p. 1150. Olivet, torn. ii. p. 325 — 
 
 327, Geneva edit. Palcijs Principles of 
 
 Moral and Political Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 17 
 
 — 28. Spirit of Laws, vol. i. p. 145. vol. ii. 
 
 p. 29. Grove's Ethics, vol. ii. p. 274—280.* 
 
 COROILARY 1. 
 
 All lawful means are to be used to preserve our 
 lives ; for not to preserve is to destroy. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 If bringing any temporary disorder upon our- 
 selves may be the probable means of preserving 
 life, virtue will not only permit but rccjuire us to 
 do it, though it may be attended with some hazard, 
 provided that hazard be less than would arise from 
 omitting it ; and if inocvlation for the small-pox be 
 lawful, it is on these principles. 
 
 Soamc of Inocul. pass. Sowden on ditto, pass. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 To Dein. r/r. 1. it is objected, 1. That life was 
 given as a benefit ; and therefore may be returned 
 when it ceases to be so. 
 
 Ans. It was not given as a benefit merely to the 
 
 ♦ A Treatise on Suicide, in two volumes, quarto, has lately been 
 written by the Hev, Mr, More. In this treatise the suhjeet is eon- 
 sidered in every ])ossible variety of lif^hts; and the arguments of the 
 apologists or exteniiators of self-murder, wlictlier ancient or modern, 
 are amply refuted and exposed. There are two elofjuent letters on the 
 Mihject, including' both sides of the question, in Kousscau's New Ilcluise. 
 
 person that enjoys it, but as a trust, to be improved 
 for the good of others, — God intending, in the 
 creation of each creature, not merely tlie happiness 
 of that individual himself, but of the whole .system 
 of which he makes a part. This plainly follows 
 from Prop. 45. 
 
 2. That w e are such inconsiderable creatures, that 
 there is no reason to believe that God will be dis- 
 pleased with what afl'ects the order of nature so 
 little as our death would do. — But this argument 
 would conclude for killing ourselves or each other 
 at pleasure, and, indeed, at once overthrow the basis 
 of all morality and virtue. 
 
 3. That Me may conclude God gives us leave to 
 retire, when our continuance in life will answer no 
 good purpose ; — but to this it is answered, We can 
 never say that this is the ease ; since we may be 
 sometimes unexpectedly recovered from great cala- 
 mities, — or even when wc lie under them, may be 
 very serviceable to others, by allording them exam- 
 ples of patience and resignation. God alone is 
 capable of judging certainly when our usefulness is 
 (juite over, and therefore his orders are to be waited, 
 
 4. As for Gildon's observation. That we do not 
 come into life by our own consent, as a soldier does 
 into an army, — the answer is obvious : That God, 
 as our Creator, has a much greater right to our hum- 
 ble obedience, than a general can have to that of a 
 soldier, how willingly soever he may have enlisted 
 himself into his service. 
 
 Blount's Orae. of Reas. p. 7 — 13 ; In his Life, 
 p. 10, 11. Lettres Person, vol. ii. No. Ixiv. 
 Ixvii. Passeran's Phil. Enq. pass. Fitzosh. 
 Lett. No. xxii. Montaitjne's Ess. vol. ii. 
 c. iii.' 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 To f/r. 2. it is objected. That some people cannot 
 in any respect be serviceable to the public ; or that, 
 if they could, they have a right to retire from the 
 community when they see fit. 
 
 Ans. This can only be allowed when there may 
 be a prospect of at least e<(ual happiness to man- 
 kind by the remove ; otherwise the general laws of 
 benevolence oblige them to a continuance ; and 
 how this can be the case in self-murder will be hard 
 to show. 
 
 Watts, ibid. p. 12—14 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 360. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 To prevent a tormenting death (whether natural 
 or violent) certainly appioaching, or the violation 
 of chastity, seems the most plausible excuse for 
 suicide. Yet as to the lirst of these, it is to be con- 
 sidered, (besides w hat was hinted Schol. 1.) that to 
 die in torment for the sake of truth, is a glorious 
 example of virtue, which may be exceedingly 
 useful ; and humbly to yield to a severe sentence of 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 3t5 
 
 death for any crime committed, may deter others 
 from it much more elTeetually than self-violence 
 could do, and may be on the whole an action the 
 most pious and the most beneficial a man can in 
 these circumstances perform. As to the latter, such 
 violence would not destroy the character and use- 
 fulness of the person suffering by it; or if it did, it 
 were to be borne nith submission as a trial com- 
 ing from the hands of Providence. 
 
 Watts, ibid. p. 65 — 69 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 
 372, 373. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Nevertheless, it seems that if the magistrate con- 
 demns a man to death, and gives him his choice 
 whether he will die by his own hand, or by a more 
 severe execution from the hands of another, he may 
 in that case execute himself. Atken. Oracle. 
 
 LECTURE LXXXIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXIX. 
 God is true in all his declarations, and faithful 
 in all his engagements to his creatures, if he enters 
 into any engagements with them. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 54, 55. 1. Virtue requires ns to be true to 
 our declarations, and faithful to our promises. 
 
 2. Our obligations to truth and fidelity in our 
 converse with our fellow-creatures, does not arise 
 from our own weakness and dependence, but from 
 the general laws of benevolence ; and if a being, 
 beyond all possibility of receiving any personal 
 advantage from falsehood and treachery, were to 
 he guilty of it, he would be so much the more in- 
 excusable, and therefore so much the more odious. 
 1, 2. Prop. 44. Cur. 3. 3. Valet propositio. 
 
 Ahem. Serm. vol. ii. No. v. p. 229 — 231 ; Dublin 
 edit. p. 216—218 ; London edit. p. 124, 125. 
 Tillots. vol. ii. p. 654 ; Serm. 87. p. 579, 5H0. 
 fourth edit. Wilk. Nat. Ret. p. 140—142. 
 seventh edit. 
 
 SCHOLIIM 1. 
 
 If there be any force in what is said Prop. 54. 
 Schol. I. to prove that there is a kind of in.itiyict in 
 favour of truth rooted in our nature, that may alford 
 some presumption that God, the Author of our 
 nature, is a Lover of truth, as the benevolent instinct 
 implanted in our nature may be an argument of his 
 benevolence. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Many have questioned whether God, by the 
 ▼eracity and fidelity of his nature, be obliged to 
 fulfil his threatenings. It is urged, that promises 
 give another a right of a claim to what has been 
 
 promised ; but for a person not to accomplish his 
 threatening, is to be better than his word ; and con- 
 sequently it would be no reflection on the Divine 
 Being to suppose it thus with regard to him. 
 
 But it seems this question is to be determined by 
 the manner in which the threatening is delivered. 
 If any action be forbidden by God on such a 
 penalty, and no further declaration be added, he 
 does not seem to be bound by it ; but if he has in 
 any case added a declaration, that he will in fact 
 make his threatenings as well as his promises the 
 rule of his final proceedings, it seems inconsistent 
 with his veracity, though not his fidelity, to act con- 
 trary to them ; especially if we consider, that as 
 there is no change in the views and purposes of 
 God, if he fail to act according to such minatory 
 declarations, he must have intended to act contrary 
 to them even at the time he made them ; — which 
 seems a mean and dishonourable artifice, infinitely 
 beneath the Majesty of God. 
 
 Tillots. vol. i. Serm. xxxv. p. 353, 354 ; edit. 
 
 1704. p. 413, 414. Watts's Serm. vol. ii. p. 146, 
 
 147 ; Works, vol. i. p. 218. 
 
 DEFINITION LIX. 
 That governor is said to administer his govern- 
 ment with JUSTICE, who, in proportion to liis legal 
 power, distributes good to the virtuous, and evil to 
 the vicious ; or, in other words, treats his subjects 
 on the whole according to their characters. 
 
 Abern. vol. ii. No. v. p. 180 — 186. Lond. edit. ; 
 p. 193—197. Dublin edit. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Justice sometimes signifies " Giving to every one 
 that which is his own, or that which he has in rea- 
 son a right to," i. e. which virtue requires he should 
 have ; or, in other words, treating him as virtue 
 requires he should be treated. Now, in this senso 
 of it, it is universal rectitude. {Def. 38.) Sometimes 
 it stands distinguished from charity ; and then he 
 is said to be a just man who gives to every one that 
 to which he has by law a claim ; and he is good or 
 charitable who abounds in such good ofllces as 
 human laws do not oblige him. 
 
 Fast. Serm. vol. i. No. ii. p. 27 — 35.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Justice, as it respects men, is often divided into 
 commutative and distributative justice: the former 
 consists in an equal exchange of benefits ; the latter 
 in an equal distribution of rewards and punish- 
 ments. 
 
 Bury-street Led, edit. i. vol. i. p. 82, 83 ; 
 Serm. iv. p. 71, 72. edit. 2. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It will not follow from the definition given above, 
 
 * Mr. Hume, in liis Essays, vol. 2. on Uie Principles of Morals, { 3. 
 p. 21!», &c. founds the notion of justice entirely ou utility, as Carneades 
 and others have done before hiiii. S. 
 
31G 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 that cvory ttovornor is unjust who docs not carry 
 the execution of tlie law to its utmost rigour upon 
 offenders ; all governments allowing a power of 
 pardoninn-, in eases in which the "fovernor shall 
 judge it most agreeable to the public good to do it; 
 and as the public good is the supreme law, justice 
 is no furtlier a virtue than as it consists with it : 
 but as injustice is always n term of reproach, it is 
 not to be applied to those instances of favour which, 
 tlu)ugh contrary to the litter of the law, are con- 
 sistent with and subservient to its general design. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXX. 
 
 God is, ith respect to his dispensations, on the 
 whole just to all his rational and free creatures. 
 
 DEMONSTRATIGNT. 
 1. All rational and free creatures are the proper 
 subjects of moral government, e. arc capable of 
 being governed by a law, enforced by the sanction 
 of rewards and punishments. 
 
 1. 2. It is in itself highly congruous that they 
 should be treated with favour or severity, as virtue 
 or vice do on the whole prevail in their tempers and 
 conduct. 
 
 2. 3. It would be justly accounted an infamous 
 tiling, for any created governor to act contrary to the 
 rule of justice, in his treatment of any such crea- 
 tures committed to his government. 
 
 4. The most excellent creatures might in some 
 imaginable instances lie under some temptations of 
 tiiis kind, to which an omnipotent God cannot pos- 
 sibly be exposed. 
 
 3. 4. 5. It would be most dishonourable to con- 
 ceive of the Divine Being as acting contrary to tliose 
 ■rules, and dispensing final good and evil without 
 regard to the moral character of his creatures. 
 
 Gr. 5. Prop. 44. Cor. 3. G. Valet propositio. 
 Ahem. Serm. vol. ii. No. \. jvas. p. 186 — 260. 
 Lond. edit. ; p. 197—220. Dublin edit. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 GOD is just in all his dispensations to mankind. 
 Prop. 16. 
 
 llUots. vol. ii. p. 647. Willi. Nat. of liel. p. 
 139, 140; p.. 123, 124. seventh edit. But- 
 ler's Anal, part i. c. iii. vii. Bourn s Ser- 
 mons, vol. ii. No. ii. p. 123, 124. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The only considerable objection against this, 
 arises from tlic une(]ual distribution of good and 
 evil observable in the present administration of 
 Providence ; but it may be sufiiciently answered by 
 considering, 
 
 1. That we are often mistaken in the judgment 
 we form concerning the characters and conditions 
 of men. 
 
 2. That the interest of particular persons may 
 sometimes clash with that of society, in such a man- 
 
 ner as that iniblic justice will require that for the 
 present the former be sacrificed to Ihc latter. 
 
 3. Tliat if a future state be admitted, it will solve 
 those phenomena which otherwise would appear 
 the most unaccountable ; and perhaps those in- 
 (■(jualities may be permitted, to convince us of it ; — 
 but of tiiis, more hereafter. 
 
 Scott's Cliristian Life, vol. ii. p. 248 — 26.5. vol. 
 
 i. p. 284— 291. Itelig. of ISat. p. 110—114. 
 
 Ahem. Serin. No. v. p. 209—216. Dublin 
 
 edit. ; London edit. p. 197—203. Bourn's 
 
 Sermons, vol. ii. No. iii. 
 
 LECTURE XC. 
 
 DEFINITION LX. 
 
 lie is said to ukpent of a vicious action that he 
 has committed, who is so convinced of tlie folly of 
 it, as heartily to wish that he had not committed it, 
 and stedfastly resolves that he will no more repeat it. 
 Tillots. Sermons, vol. iii. p. 63 — 69 ; Serm. 
 exiii. p. 61—66. 4th edit. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Wherever there is true repentance for an injury 
 offered to another person, the penitent will be ready 
 to make restitution, so far as it is in bis power to 
 do it. 
 
 TiUots.\o\. iii. Serm.cxvi. p. 85 -90; p. 80— 85. 
 edit. 4. Paff- de Jure, lib. iii. e. i. § 5 — 11. 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. ii. c. xvii. § 13 — 17. 
 Granada's Mem. p. 119 — 121. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 If it be hereafter proved that every man who has 
 committed a vicious action is obliged to repent of 
 it, then he who by an unjust war has deprived any 
 of their rights is obliged to make restitution ; and 
 if any possessions came into the hands of a con- 
 queror in a just war, which did not of right belong 
 to tlie persons from whom he took them, such a 
 conqueror seems obliged to restore them when the 
 claim of the former owner is made and proved ; 
 proper allowance being made for the trouble and 
 expense of recovering them. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, lib. iii. c. x. § 4 — 6. c. xvi. § 
 1—3. Conti's Will, ap. Life, p. 7—14. 
 
 DEFINITION LXI. 
 
 Those rules of action which a man maj/ discover 
 by the use of his reason to be agreeable to the 
 nature of things, and on which his happiness will 
 appear to him to depend, may be called the law of 
 NATURE ; and when these are considered as intima- 
 tions of the Divine will and purpose, they may be 
 called the natural laws of God. — Vid. Def. 52. 
 
 Caermich. Puff. 1st Suppl. c. i. § 10, 19, 20. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 317 
 
 DEFINITION LXII. 
 That part of the law of nature which a man, by 
 the exercise of his reason, has actually discovered, 
 is to him at that time the light of nature. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 The light of nature and the law of nature may to 
 the same, and yet more evidently to different, per- 
 sons be different ; yet they can in no instance be 
 contradictory to each other. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 If by the laiv of nature, be meant in general the 
 obligation arising from the nature of things, it can 
 in all its extent he known only to Him to whom the 
 nature of things is universally known, /. e. to God ; 
 and with respect to him, it can only improperly 
 and figuratively be called a law, since there is no 
 superior whose will is thereby signified to him. — 
 Vid. Dcf. 52. 
 
 Conyh. against Tind. p. 11, 13 — 17. Leland 
 against Tind. vol. i. c. ii. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXI. 
 The natural law of God requires the practice of 
 universal virtue. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 44. Cor. 1. 1. Since God is a Being of 
 perfect rectitude, it must be his will that creatures 
 capable of virtue should practise it in all its 
 branches. 
 
 Prop. 80. 2. As he is the just Governor of the 
 world, he will, on the whole, dispense good or evil 
 as virtue has been cultivated, or as it has been 
 violated. 
 
 Gr. 1,2. Def.GX. 3. Valet propositio. 
 
 Cic. de Rep. ap. Lactant. quod vide ap. 3Iid- 
 dlet. Life of Cic. vol. ii. p. 5.5G— .538. 4to 
 edit; vol. iii. p. 351, .352. 8vo edit. Beattie's 
 Elements of Moral Science, vol. ii. p. 8 — 77. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 A due reverence to the Divine Being, as well as 
 a regard to our own happiness, will require us 
 attentively to study the law of nature; especially 
 seeing there are so many cases in which it is ex- 
 ceedingly difficult to determine what it requires. 
 
 Syltcs's Connect, c. i. ii. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 The natural law of God must require that those 
 who have been guilty of vice should repent of it. 
 Vid. Def. CO. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 This natural and universal law of God is of in- 
 finitely greater efficacy to restrain vice and jjroniote 
 virtue than any human laws can be ; since, whereas 
 in human laws, punishments arc generally the only 
 sanctions (the magistrate being neither capable of 
 judging of the degree of virtue in any action, (com- 
 pare Prop. 49. Cor. 2.) nor having a fund out of 
 which he can universally reward men in proportion 
 
 to it,) the Divine law has tho sanction of rewards 
 likewise, and extends itself to what the civilians 
 call duties of imperfect obligation, i. e. those which 
 cannot fall under the cognizance of human go- 
 vernors. 
 
 Warb. Divine Legation, vol. i. p. 12—21. 
 Fitzosb. Lett. No. xlvi, 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 It is highly for the interest of states that the great 
 principles of natural religion should be believed, 
 viz. the being and providence of God, and the 
 certainty of an exact retribution either here or here- 
 after ; since it is on these principles alone that the 
 efficacy of such supposed laws must depend. 
 
 Warh. ibid. p. 22—25. Watts of Civil Power 
 in Rel. p. 27—29 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 139, 
 140. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 For any to pour contempt upon this natural law 
 of God, under pretence of extolling any supposed 
 Divine revelation, or intimation of God's will in an 
 extraordinary manner, will appear very absurd; — 
 since our obligation to receive anj' such supposed 
 extraordinary discoveries made by God, must de- 
 pend upon our knowledge of his moral perfections; 
 and no discovery can be supposed so particular, as 
 not to need the use of reasoning upon the princi- 
 ples of the law of nature, in explaining and apply- 
 ing it to particular cases. 
 
 Hodges' s Elihu, Preface, p. 23 — 25. Dove's 
 Creed, p. 9, 10. 13. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 That it will not at all follow from the usefulness 
 of religion to communities, that therefore it is 
 merely an engine of state-policy, is in a most 
 sagacious and conclusive manner shown in 
 
 Warb. Div. Leg. vol. i. lib. iii. ^ 6. p. 443 — 471. 
 part ii. p. 253 — 286. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 From the second Corollary arises a most difficult 
 and important question, viz. Whether the justice 
 of God will permit him to forgive the penitent ? at 
 least, whether we can have such assurance of it as 
 cheerfully to depend upon pardon, how great soever 
 our offences may have been ? Some have asserted 
 the contrary in the strongest terms; and urge that 
 there is an infinite degree of evil in sin, from which 
 it is impossible that any creature .should recover 
 himself ; and that the infinite goodness of God 
 must make every the least violation of the laws of 
 eternal order and rectitude an incurable evil ; I;ut 
 others have universally asserted, that wc may on 
 the principles of the light of nature bo certain that 
 God will, and must upon repentance, fully and 
 freely pardon every sin ; but, on tlie whole, wc must 
 answer in a medium between those two opinions. 
 
 1. There seems some probable reason to believe 
 
318 A COUl^SE OF LECTURES 
 
 lhat at least some sins may bo forpivcn by God, con- 
 sidcrinp; the known goodness of" tlie Divine IJeinij, 
 and especially from obseivin-j the provision he has 
 made in tlie world of nature for the necessities and 
 ealaiiiitics of mankind, even of many which are 
 broni;lit upon men by their own folly ; and indeed 
 liad Cod determined to punish every sin without 
 merey, we can hardly believe that such a benevo- 
 lent Bein'^ would have placed mankind in circum- 
 stances of such strong temptation from within and 
 without, that not a person on earth wlio is arrived 
 at years of understanding should be free from it. 
 Nevertheless, 
 
 2. Wo cannot certninhf and vnivcrsaUij conclude 
 that sin shall be pardoned on repentance ; for the 
 end of punishment is not merely, as some liavc 
 rashly asserted, the amendment of the ofTender, 
 (thoupjh even some punishments mip;ht be inlli(;tcd 
 upon repentance, to make him more cautious, and 
 to preserve him from future guilt,) but principally 
 the maintaining the honour of the Divine govern- 
 ment, and the admonition of otliers ; now it is im- 
 possible for us certainly to say, how far the right of 
 his government and the interest of the whole rational 
 creation may require severity, even against peni- 
 tents themselves, especially in cases of notorious 
 provocation. So that, on the whole, it seems that 
 unassisted reason could give us at best but a waver- 
 ing and uncertain hope that all sin was pardonable, 
 though it might show it to be highly probal>le tliat 
 some sins were so, or that the penalty inflicted for 
 them might not be the utter destruction of the peni- 
 tent. 
 
 Tind. Christuinity as old, &c. e. iv. Couyl). 
 af/ainst Tind. p. 114 — 131. or Leland ngaiiist 
 Tind. vol. i. c. vi. Bah/iiy on Itedcmpt. 
 Fast. Disc, on Nat. Rel. vol. i. o. viii. Ilallet 
 on Script, vol. ii. 32G — 313. Tai/lor ayainst 
 Deism, c. i. p. 1, &c. Wutls's Strcnyth and 
 Weakness, &c. p. 72 — 87 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 
 236— 21'i. Butler s A nal. part ii. c. v. ^ 2 — 4. 
 Howe's Liviny Temple, part ii. c. vi. ^ 3. o. 
 vi. ^ T), G, 10. Leiln. Theod. § 73, 74. Sijhes 
 on Iledem. p. 5 — 19. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, though it remains dubious how far 
 God will pardon sin upon repentance, yet repentance 
 will appear reasonable, — since, to be sure, if any 
 jiardon is to be expected, it must be received in 
 that way ; for it would be utterly unbecoming the 
 dignity of the Divine Being, and his character as 
 the Universal Judge, always to spare and always to 
 bless an obstinate and incorrigible rebel ; and if any 
 punishment is after all to be expected, it must 
 surely be much better to meet it in a posture of 
 humble submission, than with a vain and obstinate 
 resistance and opposition to a Being infinitely su- 
 perior to us, and who can continue us in a capacity 
 of feeling punishment as long as he pleases ; for 
 some mitigation of which punishment we might at 
 least hope, in consequence of such humble sub- 
 mission as is recommended above. 
 
 Collib. of Natural and Revealed Religion, part 
 i. § 8. p. 27—35. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 OF THE IMMORTALITY AND IMMATERIALITY OF THE SOUL; 
 ITS ORIGINAL; THE GENERAL OBLIGATIONS TO VIRTUE, 
 AND STATE OF IT IN THE WORLD. 
 
 LECTURE XCI. 
 
 DEFINITION LXIII. 
 The death of the man is the universal cessation 
 hotli of perception and of animal motion, and par- 
 ticularly respiration, and the circulation of the 
 blood in the human l)ody. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Though perception and animal motion arc not 
 
 necessarily connected, — yet, so far as our observa- 
 tion reaches, the latter being never found without 
 the former, it seemed not improper to join them as 
 we have done in the definition. 
 
 DEFINITION LXIV. 
 The DEATH of the mind is the utter destruction 
 of its percipient and thinking powers. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXU. 
 The soul docs not die with the body, but survives 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 319 
 
 in a state of greater happiness or misery than be- 
 fore, as it has behaved in a virtuous or vicious 
 manner. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 Prop. 80. 1. As God is just, he will take care 
 that, on the whole, his creatures shall be more or 
 less happy or miserable, according to the dejtree in 
 Mhieh virtue or vice prevails in their characters. 
 
 2. No such distinction is here made correspondent 
 to their characters ; but virtuous men are often ex- 
 posed to the greatest distress, whilst the worst of 
 men live and die in a series of prosperity. 
 
 Cic. de Nat. Dear. lib. iii. § 32—35. 
 1,2. 3. There must be a future state of retribu- 
 tion. Q. E. D. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 231—257. Rel. of 
 Nat. p. 199 — 203. Balyuy's Six Sermons, p. 
 81 — 86. first edit. Bali/. Sermons, third edit, 
 p. 396 — 401. Burlamaqui Elementa Juris 
 Naturalis, part ii. e. xii. \ \ — 14. c. xiii. § 1, 
 and 11 — 15. Price on Morals, p. 449 — 466. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 To this it is objected, That the secret pleasure 
 attending virtue is its own reward, and renders the 
 good man happier in his most calamitous state, 
 than the wicked man is in his greatest prosperity. 
 
 Ans. 1. That the support and comfort of a good 
 man in his troubles, greatly depends on the expect- 
 ation of a future state ; and that this expectation 
 being his greatest encouragement to persevere in 
 virtue under its greatest disadvantages, we can 
 hardly suppose that a wise, just, and good God 
 would so order it, that tlie great foundation and 
 support of virtue should be a false and vain ex- 
 pectation. 
 
 2. There are some sufferings of flesh and blood to 
 which good men, even for conscience' sake, have 
 often been brought, so extreme, that without some 
 extraordinary support from God, it is morally im- 
 possible the pleasure of rational thought should be 
 enjoyed under them; and this ease would be a suffi- 
 cient answer to the objection, unless such supports 
 were granted ; which, if they were, as they arise 
 from views of a future state, the faithfulness of 
 God, as well as those attributes mentioned before, 
 would seem to be injured, by supposing there were 
 no such state. 
 
 3. Good men, in calmer seasons of life, often find 
 the inward satisfaction arising from the conscious- 
 ness of their own virtue interrupted, whilst they 
 labour under disquieting doubts and fears as to the 
 state and prevalency of it ; and it is unreasonable 
 to suppose that God would leave their minds under 
 .such distresses, if the present pleasure of virtue 
 were its only reward. On the other liand, bad men 
 often outgrow the remorse of conscience ; so that 
 those who arc the most experienced in wickedness. 
 
 and so deserve the heaviest punishments, do, so far 
 as we can judge, sutler much less than others not 
 equally criminal, and owe their tranquillity to their 
 wickedness. 
 
 4. That all this passes in private, and is little 
 taken notice of; whereas one would naturally ex- 
 pect, that the justice of God should have its public 
 triumphs, especially over those who, being in exalt- 
 ed stations of life, and therefore under the greatest 
 obligation to virtue, have acted a very guilty part 
 without appearing to be in any measure propor- 
 tionably miserable ; and in favour of those who 
 have suffered very hard things for virtue, without 
 any visible retribution, and have perhaps even died 
 in its defence. 
 
 Relig. of Nat. p. 203—205. Clarhe at Boyle's 
 Led. p. 257—261. part ii. p. 108—1 11. Balg. 
 Six Serm. p. 88--01. Baxt. Reas. of Christi- 
 anity, part i. c. xiv. § 1. ap. Op. vol. ii. p. 46 
 — 48. Post. Disc, on Nat. Rel. vol. i. c. ix. 
 Parker's Law of Nature, part. i. § 31. 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Others urge that this goes on a false supposition 
 that there are some good men ; whereas the best be- 
 ing but imperfectly virtuous, can claim no future 
 rewards. 
 
 Ans. 1. It must be acknowledged that the best 
 of men cannot in strict justice claim any reward 
 from God as a debt, seeing they owe all to him ; 
 especially are they destitute of such a claim, when 
 they have in any instance failed of the duty they 
 owe him, as the best here do. Nevertheless, 
 
 2. The vast difference there is in the characters 
 of men, will require that there should be some great- 
 er diflerence in the manner of treating them than 
 there is in the present stat«, where there is no pro- 
 portion between their suffering and present demerit. 
 
 3. That considering the extraordinary progress 
 some make in virtue, and consequently how fit they 
 are for the most sublime and rational happiness, 
 and how unavoidable some degree of imperfection 
 is, considering the constitution of our nature and 
 the temptations of life, there seems some probable 
 though not certain reason to hope, that (iod will 
 hereafter reward those who are in tlie main liis faith- 
 ful servants, with some greater degrees of felicity 
 than they have here enjoyed, 
 
 Ilallet on Script, vol. i. p. 226—229, and p. 
 2.36 — 240. Grove's Thouyhts on a Future 
 State, c. vii. p. 340, &e. Kenrich's Poems, 
 p. 148—130. 
 
 SCIIOLR'M 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, it must be confessed, that reason 
 does not certainly assure us that all good men do 
 immcdiutchi pass into a state of happiness ; least of 
 all could we conclude it in favour of tliosc penitents 
 who have been reclaimed but a little before their 
 death, after a long course of vice, for which they 
 
320 
 
 A COURSE or LECTURES 
 
 have nu-t witli no roiuarkable calaiuity. It niij;l:t 
 sccni inoio probable with regard to siicli, that tliey 
 should cither sutler an utter extinction of being, or 
 pass through some state of purgation, whereby at 
 least some further honour niigiit also be done to the 
 Divine violated law. 
 
 T'iV<7. .T:>i. lib. vi. ver. 719— 748. Plato's Phad. 
 
 § 44, 4.1. Ci/i us's Trav. vol. ii. p. 1 10. Bvo. 
 
 Ji^scliiii. Dial. ill. ^ 19 — 21. Jortins Disstr- 
 
 tativiis. No. vi. Pindar's Second Olympiad, 
 
 by ]yest. 
 
 LECTURE XCII. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION II. 
 1. The human mind is framed with capacities for 
 perpetual improvement ; whereas brute's soon attain 
 to the utmost perfection of which their natures arc 
 capable. 
 
 1. 2. It seems not consistent with the Divine 
 Wisdom to form so excellent a being for so short a 
 duration, and sucli low employments, as are to be 
 found in this mortal life. 
 
 1. 3. The human mind is formed with a capacity 
 for far greater happiness than it can enjoy in the 
 present slate. 
 
 4. Men are necessarily exposed to a great variety 
 of evils, from which even innocent infants arc not 
 exempted ; and perhaps it may be acknowledged, 
 that were immortality to be absolutely des]>aired of, 
 the state of brutes would appear less calamitous 
 and pitiable than that of men ; at least tliat it would 
 be so, were the whole human species to disbelieve 
 a future state. 
 
 .5. There is a strong desire of immortality pos- 
 sessing our natures, and it is strongest in the most 
 virtuous minds. 
 
 3, 4, 5. 6. The circumstances of men in the 
 present world are such, as we can hardly reconcile 
 with the Divine Goodness, unless we suppose some 
 other and belter state of existence; especially con- 
 sidering that in others and those much inferior 
 things, there is a correspondence between natural 
 desire and the possibility at least of enjoyment. 
 
 Gr. 2, 6. Prop. 42, 45. 7. The wisdom and 
 goodness of God join in requiring that there should 
 be a future state, and therefore it is reasonable to 
 expect it. Q. E. D. 
 
 Sped. vol. ii. No. ext. lid. of Nat. p. 208 — 
 211. Clarke at Boyle's Lectures, p. 2G9. 
 Howe's Vanity of Man, &c. pass, prcrs. np. 
 Op. vol. i. p. 640—650 ; 8vo edit. p. 20—40. 
 Hallet on Script, vol. i. p. 256 — 258, 272 — 
 289. Fast. Serm. vol. i. No. xv. p. 406 — 
 408. Baly. Six. Serm. p. 66—69. or Works, 
 
 vol. i. p. 380 — 384. Various Prospccis of 
 Blanhind, I\ature, and Providence, No. xi. 
 Grove against Hallet, c. iv. Young's Night 
 Thoughts, No. vii. Kcnrich's Poems, p. 161 — 
 16G. 
 
 SCHOLll'M. 
 
 Nearly akin to this argument is that which Mr. 
 Balguy draws from the sense o[ friendship rooicd 
 in the human heart; which engages virtuous friends 
 to wish to continue for ever in the enjoyment of 
 each other, and renders the thoughts of a final 
 separation so shocking, that it is not to be imagined 
 the great and benevolent Author of Nature should 
 have implanted such a passion, had he not intended 
 to leave room for the gratification of it ; and it may 
 further be observed, that whatever weight there is 
 in this argument is increased, by considering that 
 the notion of the mortality of the soul will be an 
 additional grief to a virtuous mind, when he con- 
 siders, that, upon this supposition, he must not only 
 be deprived himself of the enjoyment of his friends, 
 but they likewise must entirely perish, and lose all 
 the delight which grow ing science and virtue have 
 given, and which they seemed fitted for receiving, 
 in yet further and more exalted degrees ; — to which 
 we may add, on like principles, that the love of God 
 growing in the virtuous mind, will make the thought 
 of the extinction of being more painful in proportion 
 to that advance, — as all enjoyment of God must of 
 course cease ; and the importance of this thought 
 both illustrates Balguy's remark, and is strongly 
 illustrated by it. 
 
 Balguy's Si.v Serm. p. 71 — 75; Works, vol. i. 
 p. 386—390. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION III. 
 
 1. The lives of men, according to tlie ordinary 
 course of nature, are continually in the power of 
 themselves and others. 
 
 2. If the soul were mortal, a desperate villain 
 might immediately deprive the most virtuous man 
 of his being; and witli it, of all the further rewards 
 which his virtue might have expected and received. 
 
 1. 3. Such a person might also, upon that sup- 
 position, put a period to all further punishment 
 intended for his crimes and due to them, by laying 
 violent hands upon himself. 
 
 2, 3. 4. The justice of God might, in a great 
 measure, be frustrated, if the soul were mortal. 
 
 Prop. 31, and SO. 5. Seeing God is an omnipo- 
 tent and just Being, we have reason to conclude 
 that his justice cannot be frustrated. 
 
 4, 5. 6. The soul is immortal. Q. E. D. 
 
 Watts s Rcliq. Jitv. No. Ixxv. p. 331—336; 
 Works, vol. iv. p. 594. 
 
 SCnOLlUM 1. 
 
 To this it may be objected, That God will, in an 
 extraordinary manner, interpo'se, to prevent such 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 321 
 
 deaths as would interfere with the distribution of 
 justice. 
 
 Ahs. 1. So far as we can judge, manysuch deaths 
 do in fact happen. 
 
 2. It would be unreasonable to expect a course of 
 things to be established, in which, without per- 
 petual extraordinary interpositions, the greatest 
 irregularities must happen : this would reflect as 
 much upon the wisdom, as the other on the justice, 
 of the Divine Being. 
 
 Watts, ib. p. 336, 337 ; Works, vol. iv. p. 595. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 What is most solid and important in the argu- 
 ment for a future state, from the impossibility of 
 governing- the world without the belief of it, seems 
 to coincide with this argument, or Demonstration 1. 
 Baxt. Reas. of Christ, part. i. c. xiv. § 5, 6 ; 
 ap. opt. vol. ii. p. 49 — 51. Barrow's Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 334 — 337. Hallet's Notes on 
 Scripture, vol. i. p. 288 — 297. Grove on a 
 Fut. State, c. v. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION IV. 
 1. There is in man a certain affection of mind, or 
 principle of action, which is commonly called con- 
 science, whereby we are capable of considering 
 ourselves as under a divine law, and accountable to 
 God for our conduct. 
 
 1. 2. Hence arises self-approbation, or self- 
 condemnation, in men, as they apprehend their 
 actions have been agreeable or disagreeable to the 
 divine law. 
 
 3. The force of this often appears so great, that 
 the worst of men cannot, at least without great 
 difficulty, divest themselves of it ; and that even 
 when they are in such circumstances as to have 
 least to fear from their fellow-creatures, and 
 especially in their dying moments. 
 
 Juvenal, Satire 13, ver. 192, &.C. ; Satire 1, vcr. 
 19G. 
 
 2, 3. 4. It is exceedingly probable that this 
 principle is intended by God to intimate a future 
 state of retribution, since it is chiefly to that it 
 seems to refer. 
 
 1, 4. 5. Both the wisdom and truth of God seem 
 to require that there should be a future state, in 
 some respect answerable to this apprehension. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Tillots. Serm.\o\. iii. p. 124, 125 ; p. 119, 120. 
 4th edit. Barroiv, vol. ii. p. 3.34, .335. 
 Hallct on Script, vol. i. p. 259— 2C3. Fast. 
 Serm. vol. ii. No. iii. p. 5.5—68. Baft/. Six 
 Serm. p. 7;3— 79. Vol. of Scrmo7is, p. 390 — 
 394. Juvenal. Sat. xiii. v. 192, &c. ; Snt. i. 
 ver. 196. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION V. 
 1. It appears that most nations, not excepting 
 the most barbarous, have generally believed the 
 
 doctrine in the proposition ; and it is observable 
 that most of their /wweraZ rites, so far as we are in- 
 formed concerning them, seem to imply some 
 apprehension of it ; as that very ancient kind of 
 idolatry, the worship of the dead, (as well as all 
 pretences to the art of necromancy, which were 
 plainly founded on this persuasion,) contains a 
 further and most evident proof of it ; — to which we 
 may also add, that the lesser initiation of the ancients 
 seems to have been a sort of machinery, in which, 
 especially in the Eleusinian mysteries, the seats 
 both of the blessed and damned were represented. 
 Warh. Div. Leg. vol. i. 1. ii. § 4. Grove on a 
 Future State, c. vi. 
 
 1. 2. The doctrine was probably inferred from 
 some arguments level to every capacity, or it would 
 not have been so universally believed. Compare 
 Prop. 17. Dem. 2. 
 
 2. 3. It is reasonable to believe it. Q. E. D. 
 T/V/o^*. vol. iii. p. 116— 118 ; 111—113. 4th ed. 
 
 Stev. against Pop. Serm. vii. p. 192 — 194. 
 Bp. Sherlock's Disc. vol. i. No. vi. Customs 
 of the East Ind. and Jews comp. Art. vii. p. 
 39—42. Balg. Six Serm. p. 70,71. Vol. of 
 Sermons, p. 384 — 386. 
 
 LECTURE XCIII. 
 
 SCHOLUM 1. 
 
 It is objected. That a great many ancient philo- 
 sophers disbelieved the immortality of the soul, 
 and some of the ancients tell us, it was first taught 
 by the Egyptians. 
 
 Ans. The common people seem to have had a 
 firmer persuasion of it than the jjliilosophers, many 
 of whom do indeed speak dubiously about it ; and 
 as for others of them, the accounts they give of it 
 are very low and absurd, and several of tiic argu- 
 ments which they bring for the support of it are 
 weak and inconclusive ; and it may by the way be 
 observed, that in Plato's Phicdon, the argument in 
 the first demonstration, though so proper to the 
 circumstances of Socrates at that time, is strangely 
 omitted ; nor do any that I remember mention it 
 before Seneca. 
 
 Dr. Warburton has lately stated this matter very 
 particularly ; and undertaken to prove, though the 
 philosophers did indeed believe the doctrine of 
 the soul's immortality, they did not believe that of 
 the future state of rewards and punishments; which 
 he proves to be inconsistent with the essential prin- 
 ciples, not only of the Epicureans, but also of the 
 Pythagoreans, Peripatetics, Platonists, and Stoics, 
 particularly with the doctrine of the ro tv, or the 
 refusion of souls into their common eternal prin- 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 oipio ; and nlso w ith lliat doctrine, wliirli taught 
 the Deity t(i bo incapable of that resentment with- 
 ont which they supposed he could not punish ; so 
 that all those passa<;es in which these philosophers 
 inculcate future retribution, are, accordin;;- to this 
 inc;cnious author, to be looked upon merely as 
 popular accommodations to doctrines commonly 
 received ; or at most, as what the philosophers 
 thoujiht (it to teach, though they did not tliemsclvcs 
 believe them, in a view to their beinj!; useful to 
 society : and he imagines that the distinction be- 
 tween the exoteric and esoteric doctrines is of great 
 importance here. On the contrary. Dr. Sykes and 
 Mr. ]Jott suppose tlicsc philosophers really to have 
 believed a future retribution, and tliat the dilfercnce 
 between the external and internal doctrine, was 
 only in the manner of illustrating the kinds of those 
 rewards and punishments which they asserted in 
 both ; and the doctrine of the to tv is so explained 
 by Bott as to be consistent with that of retribution. 
 Warb. Div. Leg. vol. i. 1. iii. § 1 — 4. Bott 
 ayainsi Warb. h 2. Syhcs against Warb. 
 Critical Inquiry into the Principles and 
 Practice of the Philosophers concerning a 
 Put. State, pass. Tillots. vol. iii. p. 1.32 — 
 134. Plato's Phad. pass. N. Taylor of 
 Deism, p. 80—110, and p. 119—144. Grot, 
 de Verit. c. i. § 22. c. ii. ^ 9. Whitby's Cer- 
 tainty of Christ. Faith, c. x. § 11, with An- 
 not. p. 312 — 315. Cndworth's Intell. Syst. 
 c. i. § 45. Leland on Revelation, vol. ii. part 
 iii. pra3S. c. ii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Others account for the phenomenon, by saying 
 that men might wish, and therefore think, themselves 
 immortal. ' 
 
 Ans. Most who held and taught a future state of 
 distinct personal existence, seemed to think it a 
 state of retribution, which, it is to be feared, it was 
 not their interest to desire ; and the fears of it are 
 sometimes spoken of as a burthen ; and if, notwith- 
 standing these fears, they wished the soul immortal, 
 it is so much the greater confirmation of Dem. 2. 
 gr. 5. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 3. 
 
 The principal objections against this doctrine are 
 reckoned up by Lucretius ; but most of them are so 
 evidently weak as not to deserve a particular ex- 
 amination. The most plausible are those that arise 
 from the sensible decay of the faculties of the mind 
 with those of the body, and the supposed impos- 
 sibility of action and perception without bodily 
 organs ; — but to these it is replied, 
 
 1. That the soul does sometimes continue in full 
 vigour, even when the body is under tlie greatest 
 disorder, and death immediately approaching. 
 
 2. That it may be a law of nature, that while the 
 spirit is united to the body, it should be so alTected 
 
 with the good or bad state of the bodily health as 
 we often sec it is ; and that the memory should be 
 impaired with age and sickness will not appear at 
 all strange, considering how much it depends on 
 the brain. Vid. Prop. 8. Di m. 
 
 3. That, perhaps, this may be a state of imprison- 
 ment to the soul, as many of the philosophers 
 thought ; and that when it is set at liberty from the 
 body, it may obtain new and noble ways of percep- 
 tion and action, to us at present unknown. 
 
 4. That if a body were necessary, we might more 
 reasonably believe God would give it a new body 
 in the state immediately succeeding this, than 
 sutler its faculties to perish, for the reasons assign- 
 ed above. 
 
 Lucrct. 1. iii. vcr. 418 — 740. Polignac's A)iti- 
 Lucretius. Rel. of Nat. p. 194—199. 
 Cicero's Tusc. Disp. 1. i. § 20. Clarice at 
 Boyle's Lect. p. 79— 81. Plat. Phad. § 9, 
 10. Rochest. Life, p. 65—68, and p. 20, 21, 
 150. Baxt. on the Soul, vol. i. § 6. praDS. p. 
 395 — 400. 3Iore's Immort. I. iii. c. xiv. xv. 
 Kenrick's Poems, p. 152 — 155. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 4. 
 
 Others attempt to prove the immortality of the 
 soul, from the impossibility of governing the world 
 without such hopes and fears, on the one hand, 
 (vid. Dc7n. 3, Schol. 2.) or of God's governing it by 
 a lie on the other, as they say it is plain he in fact 
 does, if there be not a future state. They also 
 argue from God's being the Author of those hopes 
 which arise in the mind of a good man ; and from 
 the probability there is that there are other worlds 
 inhabited by spiritual beings, to whom therefore 
 the soul may go, and among whom it may dwell, 
 after the dissolution of the body. It is likewise 
 said, That since we see other beings ripening gra- 
 dually to perfection, and animal life improved from 
 low beginnings to noble heights, — it is, on the 
 principles of analogy, probable that the human soul 
 shall pass by death into some more elevated state 
 of being, or at least may be a candidate for it :* 
 but as where these arguments are distinct from the 
 former, the premises in some of tliem are liable to 
 much dispute, and perhaps cannot be all suflicient- 
 ly made out ; and as in others, granting the pre- 
 mises, the conclusion may be disputed, we reckon 
 it enough barely to have suggested these considera- 
 tions without entering into the more particular 
 examination of them. 
 
 Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. 55, 658. Butl. Anal. 
 
 part. i. c. i. Young's Night Thoughts, No. vi. 
 
 p. 158, 159. edit. 12mo. 
 
 * Tlie argument from tile soul's employment in sleep, in favour of 
 its capacity of perceiving and acting after death, may be seen in Si)ec- 
 tator, vol. vii No, 487. Baxter on tlie Soul, vol i. p. 3!>l— .IBS. 
 YounK's Night Thoughts, No. G. p. 158. Mmo. edit.; p. 194— lOti, 
 8vo. edit. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 323 
 
 SCHOLIIIM 6. 
 
 It may further he questioned, Whether, allowing 
 a future state, it can be proved eternal and im- 
 mutahle ? 
 
 Ans. The soul seems originally designed for an 
 eternal duration, on. the principles urged in Dem. 
 2. but tliat the state on which it shall enter at 
 death shall be eternal, the light of Nature does not 
 discover. There is no reason at all to expect eter- 
 nal rewards for so short and imperfect a virtue as 
 can here be attained ; and as for eternal punish- 
 ments, though some of the heathens did assert 
 them, and many have undertaken to infer them 
 from natural principles, (all moral evil being a 
 breach of order, and e\ery instance and act of it 
 having a natural tendency to harden the soul, uni- 
 versal and perpetual misery must follow, unless 
 God interpose in an extraordinary manner, either to 
 restore the health of the soul, or to end its being,) 
 jet it seems that our natural apprehensions of the 
 Divine Goodness would rather encourage us to 
 hope that he would leave some room for amend- 
 ment and recovery of happiness, in a future state, 
 or by annihilation would put an end to men's 
 misery, when they appeared humbled by their 
 punishment. But if it should prove that in a 
 future state of chastisement, the sinner should 
 harden himself against God, and go on still in his 
 crimes, perpetual succeeding sins would justify 
 perpetual succeeding punishments ; for it is certain, 
 every new crime committed after severe punish- 
 ment, is on that account so much the more aggra- 
 vated. The same may be said concerning a series 
 of eternal happiness, incase of continued virtue, 
 and that very consistently with the preceding ob- 
 serratioD. Vid. Prop. 81. Schol. 2. Prop. 82. Dem. 
 \. Schol. 3. 
 
 Lucret. lib. i. ver. 108 — 112. Taylor on Deism, 
 p. 149 — 167. Jo.9ep/i. Bell. Judaic. 3. vii. 5. 
 Balyutj's Serni. vol. i. p. 409 — 413. 
 
 SCIIOI.ll M 6. 
 
 It may be granted, that the resurrection of the 
 body, whatever change it may be supposed to un- 
 dergo after death, may be possible to the Divine 
 Power; and may be subservient both to render re- 
 wards and punishments the more complete, and tlic 
 triumphs of Divine .Justice more conspicuous than 
 they would otherwise be ; but it by no means ap- 
 pears certain by the light of nature. 
 
 Lime-str. Lcct. vol. ii. p. 376—384. Gales 
 Court of the Gent, part i. lib. iii. c. vii. p. 81, 
 82 ; part ii. lib. ii. c. viii. p. 189. Phocy licks, 
 v. 98 — 101. Pearson on the Creed, p. 3(j.'j — 
 367 ; p. 372—374. edit. 1 1 . Baxt. on the Soul, 
 vol. i. p. 278— .306. Lelund on Revclalion, 
 vol. ii. p. 436 — 441. Jackson on Mat. and 
 Spirit, p. .39, 40. 
 
 Y 2 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 The Atheist cannot be infallibly certain that there 
 shall be no future state, even though he should be- 
 lieve the existence of the soul to depend ou that of 
 the body, or thought to be no more than a power re- 
 sulting from matter so disposed ; since that omnipo- 
 tent cliance which according to his principles formed 
 the whole v.orld, may possibly throw together into 
 one body the particles of which he now consists, 
 with such alterations, as to make him capable even 
 of eternal miserj , from which no virtue can secure 
 him. 
 
 Gurdon nt Boyle's Lect. p. 151 — 163. Fidcles 
 of Mor. Pref. p. 12—16.* 
 
 LECTURE XCIV. 
 
 DEFINITION LXV. 
 
 The MIND may be said to be corpore AL,if </(oj/9//f 
 arise from, and be inseparably connected with, a 
 certain system of matter ; so that if such system 
 so arranged exist, thouyht must exist with it, though 
 no distinct being should be produced ; or if that 
 system were to be dissolved, or the anangement of 
 its particles to be altered, thought must immediately 
 and necessarily cease with it, unless God were in- 
 stantaneously to produce some new being which did 
 not before exist. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXIU. 
 
 To inquire into the most considerable arguments 
 brought to prove the immateriality of the soul. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 
 Prop. 23. Cor. 1. Prop. 26 and 4!. 1. God Ls an 
 Immaterial and Almighty Spirit. 
 
 1. 2. There is no absurdity in supposing the 
 existence of an immaterial spirit produced by him. 
 
 3. If the soul be material, its faculty of thinking 
 must either necessarily arise from the nature and 
 arrangement of its particles, or it must be super- 
 added by God to a system of matter. 
 
 Prop. 24. 4. It is in the nature of things entirely 
 inconceivable and incredible that thought should 
 necessarily arise from matter, however figured or 
 moved. 
 
 5. To say that a power of thinking is superadded 
 by the Divine Will, is unintelligible, or in clTcct 
 granting the proposition ; for there cannot be a 
 
 ♦ In Edward Search's (Aliraliam Tiicker's) Liulit of Nature pur- 
 sued, is niurli curious matter relative to the proofs of a future existence, 
 and the apprehended nature of that existence. See particularly the 
 second ana third volumes of the work. Fora further view of the natural 
 arguments in support of a life to come, recourse m.ay be had to Andrew 
 Itaxter on the Immortality of the Soul, liisliop Portcus's Sermons, 
 No. V. vi. vii. Dr. .Sturges's Discourses, No. iv. and Dr. iJeattie's Ele- 
 ments of Moral Science, vol. ii. p. 411 — 438. A distinct treatise has 
 likewise recently been published upon the subject by the Rev. Thomas 
 Watson of \Vhill)y, entitled Intimations and Lvidences of a Future 
 Slate. 
 
3-21 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 power of tliink.iii}j; ^vlloro there is not a tliiiikiii<;' 
 l>ein^. aiitl the supiMadilition of tliis to matter is 
 nothiiiu; more than the union of an immaterial being 
 to a l)o(ly ; whieh none who assert the immateriality 
 of the soul (granting; what is liere supposed, the 
 real existenee of matter) pretend to deny. — f)<f. Go. 
 
 3, 4, 5. 6. There arc insuperal)le dillieulties 
 attending the supposition that tlio soul is eorporeal. 
 
 2, (i. 7. It is reasonable to believe it ineorporeal. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Ditton on the Res. p. 430 — 460. Cluynes 
 ■Princ. of Nat. Rel. c. ii. ^ 13. p. 36—40. 
 Tilhts. vol. iii. p. 127—129, 130. Rel. of 
 Nat. p. 186—189. Abrriiet/n/, vol. i. Serm. 
 iv. I}a.rt. OH the Soul, vol. i. p. 1.56 — 160, 
 186—192. Dr. Price's Sermon at St. Tho- 
 wj(f.«',9, .Ian. 1, 1766, p. 1 — 12. Burlatitat/ui 
 Elementa Juris Naturalis, c. xiii. § 2 — 10. 
 CoUiber on the Sard, Ess. i. § 3, 4. Ramsay's 
 Principles, vol. i. p. 230—233. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 To this it is objected. That it limits the Divine 
 Omnipotence, to say that God cannot make matter 
 think. — It is generally replied, That it is no more so 
 than to say that God cannot make a square circle. 
 God may unite a soul to a system of matter ; but 
 then the matter to which it is united can only be 
 said to think, as our body is said to feci ; i. e. by 
 tlie divine appointment, though without any neces- 
 sary connexion it may become an organ of sensa- 
 tion and motion to that spirit : and it will be diffi- 
 cult to form any scheme by which thought may be 
 supposed to result from matter any how modified 
 and agitated by an Omnipotent Being, on which it 
 might not be asserted to arise from it without the 
 action of such a Being, and consequently by which 
 all religion might not be overthrown. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iv. c. iii. § 6, with notes. Rel. 
 
 of Nat. p. 189—193. Hoive, vol. i. p. 52, 53. 
 
 Living Temp. vol. 1. c. iii. § 14, 15. Baxt. 
 
 on the Soul, vol. i. p. 192 — ^195. Jaclison on 
 
 Matter and Spirit, p. 1—3, 12, 16. Rams. 
 
 Princ. vol. i. p. 235, 236. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION II. 
 1. Matter is divisible, and consists of parts actu- 
 ally distinct. 
 
 1. 2. Whatever system of matter can be sup- 
 posed to be conscious, it is capable of being 
 divided into several lesser parts ; and they will be 
 as really distinct when laid or cemented together, 
 as when separate, and removed to a distance from 
 each other. 
 
 2. 3. If any sy.stem of matter be conscious, it 
 must cither have a distinct consciousness in each 
 lesser particle, or one consciousness resulting from 
 the union of its several parts. 
 
 4. There cannot be in each sy.stem a number of 
 
 distinct consciousnesses ; for that would suppose a 
 vast and unknown multiplicity of souls in every 
 soul. Q. E. D. 
 
 5. An assemblage of various untliinking parts 
 e«n never be supposed to make one thinking mass, 
 so that tliought should arise from the whole, and 
 yet not exist in any given part. 
 
 3, 4, 5. G. Tlie .soul is not material. Q. E. D. 
 Clarke against Dodwell, p. 1 — 3 ; p. 73, 74. 
 fifth edit, .lacks, on Mat. and Spirit, p. 
 4—11, 32—36. Rams. Princ. Prop. 32. 
 Baxt. ib. p. 227—239. 
 
 - SCHOLIUM. 
 
 To the fiftli step it is objected. That one indi- 
 visible power may reside in a system consisting of 
 divisible parts, as sweetness in a rose ; but it is 
 replied, That sweetness is only a secondary power, 
 (Def. 18.) and not, properly speaking, in the rose 
 at all ; and as for those ;»•/»)«;•(/ powers orqualities, 
 they do proportionably reside in every particle. 
 
 Clarke, ibid. p. 8 — 15. Letters between Clarke 
 and Collins. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION 111. 
 Prop. 82. 1. The soul is immortal. 
 
 2. What is immaterial has no internal tendency 
 to corruption and dissolution ; and is incapable of 
 being hurt by a variety of accidents, which may 
 destroy any material system known to us. 
 
 3. It is unreasonable to believe that God would 
 make a being, which he intended for an immortal 
 duration, with a tendency to corruption, or obnox- 
 ious to dissolving accidents. 
 
 1 , 2, 3. 4. It is unreasonable to suppose that God 
 has made the soul material ; even supposing it 
 possible that matter might think. Q. E. D. 
 
 Baxt. ibid. p. 239 — 247. Law's Theory, Dis- 
 course on Death, and Appendix against the 
 Natural Immortality of the Soul. 
 
 LECTURE XCV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this it may be replied. That neither is maiter 
 obnoxious to dissolution, — nor does any immaterial 
 substance tend to continue in existence any other- 
 wise than as God shall act in and upon it {Prop. 
 32) ; so Uiatthe whole demonstration is founded on 
 a mistake ; and it is said, that allowing the soul to 
 be material, does no more disprove its immortality, 
 than owning the body shall be so, after the resur- 
 rection w hich Christians expect, will be a sufficient 
 objection against its perpetual duration. 
 
 Locke's Third Letter to Still, p. 420—420. 
 Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. 176—179; Works, 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 325 
 
 vol. i. p. 565—568. edit. 3. Reason of Reli- 
 gion, p?irt. ii. Conclusion. Baxt. onthe Soul, 
 2, 5. Jacks, on Mat. and Spirit, p. 11, 12. 
 Rams. Princ. Prop. 18. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Nevertheless, we allow that, if the immateriality 
 of the soul were proved, it would something 
 strengthen our natural argument for its immortality ; 
 as it would certainly show us that the destruction 
 of the body does not imply the extinction of the 
 mind ; and would be a probable intimation that 
 God intended it for a longer duration ; as we have 
 reason to believe, that though marble and freestone 
 be equally dependent upon him, he intended the 
 former should continue in its form longer than the 
 latter. 
 
 Grove's Thoughts on a Future State, c. iii. 
 Baxter on the Soul, c. iii. p. 11. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Some have argued much to the purpose of Detn. 
 2. that an indivisible power cannot subsist in a 
 divisible subject : but the power of thinking is an 
 indivisible power, therefore the soul in which it 
 exists is indivisible, and therefore immaterial. — 
 But the foundation of this argument is liable to 
 much dispute, and some attempt to retort it thus : 
 " The idea of two feet is a divisible idea ; but it 
 exists in the mind, therefore the mind is divisible." 
 But though we conceive of two feet as divisible, it 
 is not proper to say that the idea of two feet may be 
 divided into two ideas, each of which shall be half 
 the former, as the archetype of it may. 
 
 Ilallet on Script, vol. i. p. 216—219. 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Much of the same kind is that argument taken 
 from the limited nature of bodies, which are inca- 
 pable of being extended beyond certain degrees ; 
 whereas the mind is continually opening itself to 
 receive more and more knowledge, and never 
 complains that an idea is too long, too broad, or too 
 wide ; but this goes on the supposition that ideas 
 are material things, otherwise they could not crowd 
 or stretch a material mind. 
 
 Serm. de Superville, vol. iii. p. 10, 11. 
 
 S0410LIUM 5. 
 
 Some plead that the spirits and particles of the 
 brain are in a continued flux, and therefore cannot 
 be the seat of consciousness, which is a fixed thing. 
 It is answered. That consciousness may inhere in 
 some stable, solid, and unchanged piece of matter, 
 such as the stamina vita are by many philosophers 
 supposed to be. Hallet, ibid. p. 215, 216. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Against the proposition it is objected, That if 
 thought infer immateriality, and immatcrialily im- 
 mortality, then, as brutes may reasonably be sup- 
 posed to have perception, {Prop. 2.) which is a 
 
 species of thought, they must be immortal. It is 
 answered. That we know not what may become of 
 them. God can no doubt put a period to their ex- 
 istence at their death, since immateriality cannot 
 necessarily infer immortality. — Vid. Schol. 1. As 
 for Ramsay's notion, that brutes are degraded in- 
 telligences, which were once Seraphim, and are now 
 doing penance in so base a state, — it depends on so 
 many uncertain principles, and is in itself at first 
 appearance so improbable, that we shall not now 
 stay to examine or confute it.* 
 
 Ramsay's Princ. part. i. vol. i. p. 374 — 387. 
 Tillots. vol. iii. p. 127—129. Clarke against 
 Dodwell, p. 26—28 ; p. 88, 89, edition 5. 
 Burnet on the Art. p. 34. Edwards's Exer- 
 citations, part i. p. 125 — 129. Baxt. on the 
 Soul, ii. 36 — 38. iii. 11. Reyn. Lett, to the 
 Deist, p. 61—68. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 That the faculties of the mind are sometimes im- 
 paired by the decay of the body, will no more 
 prove the soul material than mortal.— P»o/j. 82. 
 Dem. 5. Sch. 3. 
 
 Burn, on the Art. p. 35. Baxt. on the Soul, 
 v. 6—20. Rams. Princ. p. 233—235. 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 From comparing the arguments on both sides, it 
 appears that allowing it not to be demonstrable that 
 the soul is immaterial, it is at least possible it may 
 be so, and even highly probable that it is. — Vid. 
 Dem. 1. gr. 2. 
 
 Blount's Orac. of Reas. p. 185, 187—190. 
 Locke's Essay, lib. iv. c. iii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 9. 
 
 Should the soul be immaterial, it is nevertheless 
 possible that it may be always united to some 
 vehicle ; our not seeing it go ofl" at death can be no 
 argument against it, — since many things known to 
 be corporeal are to us invisible, particularly the air, 
 which is so extremely forcible ; and the magnetic 
 and electrical effluvia. 
 
 More's Immorl. of the Soul, lib. iii. c. i. % 2, 3. 
 Rel. of Nut. p. 197, note. Watts's Essay, 
 No. vii. p. 173, 174. Baxt. on the Soul, ii. 
 31. iv. 1 — 9, 17 — ^21. Jackson on Matt, and 
 Spirit, p. 41 — 47, 51 —.56. Collib. on Souls, 
 i. 5. iv. 1, 2. Cheyne's Essay on Regimen. 
 Discoitrses at the end. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 10. 
 
 As to the opinion which the Healhen philosophers 
 entertained on this subject, there is room for debate ; 
 
 » Taking it for granted tliat the principle of life in brutes is an im- 
 material principle, a Pr. W'agslatl'e {nut I)r. Thomas Wagstatfe, the 
 celebrated Non-Jurnr, but Dr. William Was;stafl'e, a physician) wrote 
 a treatise, in the earlier part of the present century, to prove the future 
 existence and immortality of the animal creation. lu doing this, he 
 has employed all the arguments which are usually alleged in favour of 
 the natural immortality of man; and he has urged them with great 
 apparent zeal and eamestncsn. The performance exhibits a curious 
 instance of what will be judged tu be sophistical reasoning. 
 
33G 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 l)Ut it socms the greater part concluded tliat the soul 
 consisted of, or was inseparabi)' united to, some 
 system of matter, excepting those M ho held it to be 
 an <i5ro<Tjr<i(r/in from the Divine Substance, and held 
 that substance to be incorporeal. 
 
 Luclu's Third Lett, to Still, p. 131 — ^141 ; 
 yVor/ts, vol. i. p. :>70, r>7\. Clarke at Jioi/lr's 
 Lect. p. '26;}— '2G7. N. Taylor of Deism, p. 
 l.Tl, 132. Plato's Phitd. % 20. Warb. Divine 
 Ley. vol. i. book iii. § 4. p. 403, 404, second 
 edit. CamphelVs Necessiti/ of Revelation, p. 
 132—143.* 
 
 LECTURE XCVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXIV. 
 To in(|uire, Whether, supposing tlic soul to be 
 immaterial, there is reason to believe that it is ex- 
 tended .' i. e. limited to .some certain quantity of 
 space, so that it may be said to (ill it? 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 There is no reason to believe that if the soul be 
 immaterial, it is extended. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 1. If the soul be extended, seeing all acknow- 
 ledge that extension must be limited, it must be of 
 some sliape or figure. 
 
 1. 2. If the soul be extended, wc may conceive 
 of it as losing a part of its shape ; and if it be sup- 
 posed commensurate either to the whole or to any 
 part of tlie body, a bullet, sword, or any thing eke, 
 which rends or cuts oft" a part of the body with which 
 the soul is co-extended, may, for aught appears, 
 also carry oft' a part of the soul with it, — unless we 
 are to suppose it, when in such danger, to shrink 
 up into smaller dimensions. 
 
 2. 3. This discerplion of the soul, on the one 
 hand, or condensation on the other, would imply 
 some degree of solidity, i. c. corporeity, Def. 4. con- 
 trary to the hypothesis. 
 
 4. If the soul be extended, it may touch the body, 
 or be touched by it ; but it is utterly inconceivable 
 
 * To the authors which liave formerly been referred to, \i. 223. as 
 trcaliiifj conccriiin;^ the imniateriahty of the luiman soul, may lie add. 
 ed, Tucker's Liglit of Natiirt pursued, vol. ii. rhap. r>, ; Lord Mon. 
 boddo's Aiicieul Metai)liy.sics, vol. i. p. I7(!— 180; ibid. vol. ii. p. 1 — 
 50 ; Rotherliam's Essay on the Distinetion between the Soul and Body 
 of Man ; Beattie's Ivlemenis of Moral Science, vol. i. p. 401— 4 14 ; and 
 Dr. Ferriar's Argument against tlic Doctrine of Materialism, published 
 iu the Memoirs of the Literary and Philosophical .Society of Manches- 
 ter, vol. iv. part. i. p. 20-14. As the iinestion of materialism is con. 
 Heeled in some dejrrce with the controversy roncernin(C the freedom of 
 the human will, I shall here take the liberty of referring- to several 
 treatises on the latter subject, which either escaped my recollection 
 when the note (p. 2.37.) was written, or which have very recently 
 been published. The works I subjoin are Rotherliam's lissay on Hu- 
 man Liberty, Dr. Benjamin Dawson's Necessitarian, the notes and ad- 
 ditions to the new edition of Hartley's Observations on Man, Remarks 
 on Dr. (ircgory's (of EdinbnrKh) Philosophical and Literary Kssays 
 Buttcrwortb's Thoughts on Moral (ioverument and Agency, and Mr! 
 Crombe's Vindication of I'hihiscpliical Necosity. Other tracts might 
 be mentioned ; but they do not seem important enough to merit lar. 
 ticular notice. 
 
 that there should be any contact between an imma- 
 terial being and matter. 
 
 5. Whatever absurdity could be supposed to fol- 
 low, from granting the soitl, if immaterial, to be 
 unextendcd, would follow from siipi)osing (ilod to 
 le so; yet, on the other hand, insuperable difli- 
 culties wouhl arise from supposing /am extended. 
 Prop. 41. Scliol. 2. 
 
 3, 4, 5. C. There is no reason to believe that if 
 the soul be immaterial it is extended. Q. E. D. 
 Watts' s Ess. No. vi. § 2. p. 14C — 152. Rams. 
 Princ. vol. i. Prop. 27. King's Original of 
 Evil, p. 31—33. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 To this it is objected. That nothing acts but where 
 it is; tlicreforc, if the soul were not extended, it 
 could not act at all. 
 
 Alls. All matter acts upon other matter at a dis- 
 tance by gravitation ; and it is inconceivable how 
 the soul should move the nerves inserted in the 
 brain, any better by being near, than by being 
 further off, unless we suppose it material ; and we 
 before observed that, in whatever sense it is sup- 
 po.scd to be seated there, it is impossible to explain 
 the manner of its perception and action. — Prop. 1. 
 Schol. 2. Prop. 8. Schol. 3. God could no doubt 
 give a soul a power of moving a stone, or even a 
 mountain, at several yards' distance from the body to 
 which it is united, i. e. he might appoint that 
 ordinarily the motion of such a distant body should 
 follow on the volition of tliat mind (vid. Prop. 32.); 
 which he could not, if tlie hypothesis in the objec- 
 tion were just ; seeing, if such a proximity were 
 necessary, this could not possibly be eft'eeted, with- 
 out such dilatation ami contraction as seems incon- 
 sistent with immateriality. It is moreover plain, 
 that it is not this proximity which gives the mind a 
 consciousness of bodily motion ; since the mind is 
 least conscious of some things, which on tliat hypo- 
 thesis must be nearest to it, — being entirely unac- 
 quainted, otherwise than by foreign observation and 
 analogy, with the structure of the brain, and the 
 cause of its disorders, and not being able to deter- 
 mine by inspection or consciousness where the com- 
 mon sensorium is. — Vid. Prop. 4. Schol. 1. 
 
 Howe's Works, vol. i. p. 43. Living Temple, 
 part. i. c. iii. ; 8vo, vol. i. p. 127, 128. Sir 
 Isaac Newton's Third Letter to Dr. Bentley, 
 8vo. 1756. Watts, ibid. p. 152—161. Essay 
 vi. § 3. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is further objected. That what is not extended 
 \s nowhere ; and what is nowhere has no existence; 
 — 1)ut though this has been generally allowed as a 
 maxim, it is not self-evident; and indeed it is no 
 other than taking the whole question for granted. 
 Watts, ibid. p. 161 — 164. § 4. Jackson on 
 Matt, and Spirit, p. 3, 4. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 327 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, when God has united a spirit to any 
 body, so that it shall be to that spirit an organ of 
 sensation and action, the soul may in a less proper 
 sense be said to he there, where the body is ; and 
 spirits in general may be said to he where bodies 
 are on w hich they are capable of acting. — Vid. Def. 
 15, 32. Watts, ibid. p. 165—167. § 5. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 The objection. That if the soul were not extended, 
 it could have no idea of an extended substance, is 
 taking the matter for granted ; and has been con- 
 sidered in the only view in which it is worthy of 
 consideration, i. e. as an objection against its 
 immateriality. — Prop. 83. Schol. 3, 4. 
 
 Cudw. Int. Sys. p. 824—826. Ralphi Epist. 
 Misc. 5, ad finem. 
 
 LECTURE XCVII. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXV. 
 To propose and examine the principal hypotheses 
 relating to the original of the human mind. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 The three chief hypotheses are those of pre-exist- 
 ence, of existence ex traduce, and of immedinte 
 creation. 
 
 HYPOTHESIS 1. 
 
 Some suppose the human mind existed at first 
 without this gross body in which it now dwells ; but 
 whether without any body at all, is not universally 
 Agreed. Some of the ancient philosophers, parti- 
 cularly Plato, supposed it eternal, or as the Latins 
 emphatically express it, sempiternal, as being a 
 necessarj^ emanation from the Divine Mind ; but 
 most of those who have embraced this doctrine of 
 pre-cxistence, supposed it to have been created at 
 some far distant period of time ; and they all agreed 
 that in some unknown moment between generation 
 and birth, perhaps, say some, the middle space, it 
 was sent to inhabit this body. The principal argu- 
 ment to support this hypothesis, is taken from the 
 justice of God, with which it is supposed to be 
 inconsistent that a pure and innocent spirit should 
 be so incommodiously lodged; they say that this 
 embodied state seems to be an imprisonment, to 
 which it is condemned for crimes committed in some 
 better state of existence. 
 
 To this it is answered, 
 
 1. That the Divine Justice may admit that an 
 innocent creature in the fir.st stage of its existence 
 should be exposed to some inconveniences, if they 
 be counterbalanced by the advantages of its state, 
 and especially by an opportunity of securing a more 
 
 perfect happiness hereafter, — which the patrons of 
 this hypothesis allow to be our case. 
 
 2. If, as the generality of Christians believe, the 
 first parents of our race were in a happier state of 
 existence, and were also under such a constitution 
 as made them the representatives of their whole 
 posterity, and they in that state ofiended their 
 Maker, — it is possible that the whole family might 
 fall under some marks of his displeasure, which 
 they would not otherwise have been subjected to ; 
 and this may perhaps be the easiest way of ac- 
 counting for those phenomena on which the hypo- 
 thesis is built. 
 
 3. That Divine Justice seems to require, that if a 
 creature were punished for its own personal offence 
 committed in a former state, it should have some 
 consciousness of its guilt ; our present calamities, 
 therefore, not being attended with such conscious- 
 ness, cannot be a punishment for sins so com- 
 mitted. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It is a great objection against this hypothesis. 
 That it is merely gratis dictum ; forasmuch as no 
 man can remember anj' such pre-existcnt state as is 
 pretended, or the adventures that befell him in it. 
 
 Brainerd's Journal, p. 221 — 223. 
 Plato answers. That we have not entirely forgot- 
 ten them, but that all our knowledge is entirely 
 rememhrance ; and that without it no knowledge 
 could be obtained ; but that is evidently inconclu- 
 sive, because at this rate the argument might be 
 carried on nd injinitum, and an eternal, immutable, 
 and self-existent Being could know nothing. It is 
 much more reasonably replied, TJiat it is the law of 
 our present state of being that we should remember 
 only by the assistance of the brain, in which it is 
 impossible that any traces of our former adventures 
 should be drawn. 
 
 Plato's Plued. § 16—18. J3«)h. Theorij, vol. 
 ii. lib. iv. Pref. p. .3 — 5. Phanix, vol. i. 
 No. i. p. 16—30. Ramsay's Princ. Prop, 
 xlvii. vol. i. p. 147 — 156. Jenh. of Christian. 
 vol. ii. p. 243—245. Trav. of Cyrus, vol. ii. 
 p. 145 — 1.52. 8vo edition ; p. 248—252. 12mo. 
 Move's Immort. of the Soul, lib. ii. c. xii. xiii. 
 Cudw. Int. Syst. lib. i. c. i. §31,32. Watts's 
 Ruin and Recov. quapst. ii. p. 94 — 105. cd. 2. ; 
 Works, vol. vi. p. 221 — 225. New Practice 
 of Piety, 12mo. p. 41 — 44. Barrow's prc- 
 existent Lapse of Human Souls, passim. 
 Price's Dissertations, No. i. p. 1.5!). Iv.e 
 Orientalis, prees. c. !i, 6, 10. with Annot. 
 Colliher on Souls, Essay iii. passim. Stone- 
 house on Univ. Restil. Lett. x. p. 213. No 
 Prc-existence, by E. W. passim. 
 
 IIYI'OTHKSIS 2. 
 
 The Iiypothesis of the soul's cxistcnt-c, ex traduce, 
 is this : — From the observations made chieliy by 
 
328 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Leuwonhook of the nniinalcula oxistinp in seminc 
 maris, soiiu- have supposed that the fust elements of 
 the soul as « ell as the body were contained there ; 
 which firadually fjrow up to sense w ith the ripeninf;; 
 fa lii.i, and to reason in the advance of life. Of (he 
 patrons of this hypothesis, some suppose that tiu'sc 
 aninialcula are produced from tlie food of the im- 
 mediate parent ; others, that tlic elements of tiu-m 
 arc to he found in the body of an infant, and that 
 all those from Mhoni all mankind liavc arisen, 
 besides an immensely {greater multitude that have 
 perished, were contained in the body of the first 
 man, each generation being enclosed in the former, 
 as the coats of an onion within each other, or, as 
 perha\)s it might be better illustrated, the kernel of 
 a nut. The chief arguments to prove this arc, 
 
 1. The existence of these animaleula. 
 
 2. The absurdity of supposing a kind of c(/itiyoc«/ 
 generation in the body of the parent. — Prop. 21. 
 Sih. 1. 
 
 3. The resemblance between parents and chil- 
 dren, which seems to imply such a derivation or 
 traduction of the I/or];/, which on principles of 
 analogy may prove that of the soul. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 To this it is replied, 
 
 1. That there is some reason to doubt whether 
 there really be such animaleula as Leuwenhoek 
 talks of, — few but himself have ever been able to 
 discover them with his glasses ; and it is very pos- 
 sible the motion might arise from some spirituous 
 particles of the fluid, as it was only observed while 
 the fluid was in a degree of gentle warmth, but 
 soon ceased, i. e. as it seems those particles evapo- 
 rated in the heat. 
 
 2. That if it be allowed that animaleula are really 
 seen, it may be questioned whether they are origin- 
 ally in the seed or in the water, — since they must 
 be diluted with water before they can be discerned. 
 
 3. That if they be in the seed, it may still be 
 questioned whether they be the stamina of the 
 human body; not only as it is doubtful whether 
 they can pass the two teguments of the ova, but 
 also considering how unlike the animal growing in 
 an impregnated egg, as observed and delineated 
 by Malphigi, is to that observed in the seed of the 
 cock. 
 
 4. That allov/ing sueh animaleula in the seed of 
 every adult male, and also allowing them to be the 
 stamina from whence the next generation proceeds, 
 it is groundless to assert that they contain the sta- 
 mina of all future generations. It is allowed in- 
 deed, that the exquisite smallness of those removed 
 at the greatest distance from the present, is no 
 objection against the possibility of their existence, 
 since Omnipotence could, no doubt, in the compass 
 of a grain of sand, make a system similar to our 
 
 solar system ; but there is no necessity of supposing 
 this to be the fact here, since we arc sure that the 
 same Omnipotence can, and perhaps does, by some 
 settled law of nature to us unknown, produce animal 
 bodies from particles of matter before existing 
 under another form ; and it is the more probable, 
 as it seems hardly consistent with our views of 
 divine wisdom, to forn> such multitudes of animal 
 bodies for certain destruction, and to answer no 
 imaginable purpose ; for it is evident, that not one 
 of many millions of them is ever born into the 
 world ; and if it be true with regard to men, it is so 
 likewise with respect to fishes and insects, where 
 this objection is vastly greater. 
 
 5. If such bodies were allowed, it would be un- 
 reasonable to suppose them all endued with .souls ; 
 such low degrees of life as in proportion we must 
 have had at the distance of many generations, being 
 hardly conceivable ; nor can we imagine that God 
 would, for so many thousand years, continue human 
 minds in so mean and contemptible a state of exist- 
 en(;e. 
 
 6. This hypothesis is most suitable to the mate- 
 riality of the soul, — the traduction of one spirit from 
 another being inconceivable, and but poorly illus- 
 trated by the simile usually brought, — of lighting 
 one taper by another. 
 
 7. The destruction of a multitude of souls to 
 every one that grows up or has life, is a still 
 stronger objection against this doctrine than the 
 destruction of bodies, yr. 4. ; and that these subsist 
 in a future state none maintain. 
 
 Baker on Microscopes, e. xvi. p. 152 — 167. 
 Leuwenhoek Epist. vol. i. p. 1- — 12, 149, &c. 
 Nieuwent. Rel. Phil. vol. i. Contemp. xvi. 
 § 9, 11. p. 341—344, 346—348 ; p. 305—308, 
 310 — 313, in another edit. Lux Orientalis, 
 c m. Rel. of Nat. p. SS—i)l. Watts' s Phil. 
 Ess. No. ix. § 2. with Append, p. 201 — 208, 
 and p. 307 — 311. Dennes's 2nd Serm. of 
 Veqet. Pref. Drake's Anat. vol. i. c. xxiv. 
 Baxt. on the Soul, vol. i. p. 198 — 202. 
 Chamb. Diet, on the word Generation. 
 
 HYPOTHESIS 3. 
 
 The hypothesis of immediate creation is. That at 
 a certain time, generally supposed between concep- 
 tion and the birth, perhaps twenty weeks after the 
 former, but some say in the birth itself, the soul is 
 created ; and from the first moment of its existence 
 united to the body. The weakness of the former 
 hypothesis seems the principal strength of this. It 
 is indeed objected that this supposes God to be al- 
 ways creating new souls ; but it is not easy to see 
 the force of that objection. We are sure he always 
 acts, {Prop. 32.) and acts with infinite ease {Prop. 
 31.) ; nor is continual new creation any reflection 
 upon him. What if we should acknowledge that his 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 329 
 
 works may be ever growing, both in number, extent, 
 and perfection ? It is difficult to see how it would 
 blemish either his wisdom or power. 
 
 Gale's Court of the Gent, part ii. p. 344 — 346. 
 § 3. p. 382 — 384. 2d edit. Lux Orient, c. ii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 On the whole, it seems that this last hypothesis 
 is rather the most probable ; but it does not become 
 us to be confident in so dark and dubious a matter. 
 
 Le Clerc's Pneum. part. i. c. viii. 
 
 LECTURE XCVIIl. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXVI. 
 It is highly probable that there are some created 
 spirits, which were, in the first constitution of their 
 nature, superior to human souls. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. When we consider the vast variety there is in 
 the inanimate, the vegetable, and the animal cre- 
 ation, and how one class and order of beings rises 
 above another, almost by imperceptible degrees, it 
 seems highly probable that we, who are in part al- 
 lied to the beasts that perish, and who arc placed 
 in so imperfect a state of being, are not the highest 
 order of spirits, and the most glorious creatures of 
 our almighty Creator ; but rather, that the scale of 
 created beings rises abundantly higher. 
 
 Baxter's Mutho, vol. i. Conf. v. p. 248 — ^257, 
 275—290. 
 
 2. Astronomers generally grant, and strongly 
 prove, that some of the planets are abundantly 
 larger than the earth. We can hardly think they 
 were made merely to afford us that little light and 
 benefit we derive from them : it is much more pro- 
 bable that they are habitable worlds, especially con- 
 sidering what discoveries have been made of the 
 satellites of Saturn and Jupiter, and those varieties 
 in the face of our moon that seem like seas, land, 
 and mountains ; and it is highly probable that some 
 of these inhabitants may be spirits superior to us, — 
 not to mention the possibility there is that the in- 
 terstellar spaces may be inhabited ; not to insist on 
 Wells's conjecture. That there may be more planets 
 than we commonly reckon revolving about our sun. 
 
 Swind. of Hell, p. 287. Kiny's Orifj. of Evil, 
 4. i. 1, 2. 
 
 3. Most nations have believed the existence of 
 (lemons, i. e. created spirits superior to human souls ; 
 and the accounts that have been given of their in- 
 tercourse with men might probably have some foun- 
 dation in fact, though no doubt the greater part of 
 them are fabulous.* 
 
 * The various publications of Mr. FarntiPr and liis antagonists with 
 regard to Demons, will be noticed hereafter. In the mean wliil'c, wc 
 
 1, 2, and 3. 4. Valet propositio. 
 Spcct. vol. vii. No. 519. Locke's Ess. lib. ii. c. 
 xxiii. § 13 ; lib. iv. c. iii. § 24, 26 ; lib. iv. c. 
 xvi. § 12. Wilhins's World in the Moon, 
 Prop, vii — ix. xiii. Matho, vol. ii. p. 55. 
 Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. 55, 56. Hier. in Pyth. 
 Carm. ver. 3, 4 ; vid. Dacier's Not. ib. Eu- 
 seb. Prep. Evan. lib. xv. e. xliii. Voltaire's 
 Misc. Of the Doctrine of the Genii. Night 
 Thoughts, p. 173, 174, 8vo edit. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 If it be objected, That perliaps those beings, now 
 superior to us, were at first on a level with us, 
 though perhaps something different,— we answer. 
 That the reasoning of the first step lies strongly 
 against this; — and as for what is objected against 
 the third step (though it muft* be acknowledged, 
 according to Dr. Sykes's assertion, that many of 
 those, whom the Heathens called both good and bad 
 demons, were supposed to be human souls) — yet it 
 is very evident they had a notion of some demons, 
 who were originally in a state superior to humanity, 
 and never had dwelt in human bodies. — Compare 
 Hierocles and Eusebius, <[uoted above. 
 
 Inq. into Demoniacs, p. 1 — 1. Twells's Ans. p. 
 
 5, 6. Further Inq. p. 2—20. Answer to it, 
 
 p. 8 — 24. Peggc of Demon, p. 1 — 25. Just. 
 
 Mart. Opera, p. 28. Col. edit. Pope's Iliad, 
 
 lib. xix. ver. 93. Not. ^f(7/. Orig. lib. iii. c. 
 
 iii. § 17. p. 514—516; fol. edit. p. 322. 
 
 Euseb. Prep. lib. viii. c. xiv. p. 387 ; lib. 
 
 xiii. c. xi. p. 663. Gale's Court of Gent. 
 
 lib. ii. c. viii. 11, 12. p. 186—188, and 337. 
 
 196—198, 375. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 However, it may be granted that the perfection 
 and happiness of those spirits are growing and in- 
 creasing, as (if we suppose them not subject to 
 forgetfulness, which the extraordinary memory of 
 some men makes probable) it is certain their stock 
 of knowledge must always be ; with the increase 
 of which much pleasure is connected. 
 
 Locke's Ess. lib. iii. c. x. §9. Watts's Impr. of 
 the Mind, p. 253, 254. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged, that 
 whatever their perfection be, or can be at any 
 imaginable most distant space of time, with any 
 imaginable degree of continued improvement, they 
 will still continue inferior to the Divine Being in 
 knowledge and in power, and will still be e(]ually 
 dependent on him for their existence, and every de- 
 gree of their happiness ; in which respe(;t the 
 noblest and meanest of his creatures are on a level, 
 
 content ourselves with referring to liis ficneral Prevalenre of the M'or. 
 sliip of Human Spirits, in the Ancient Heathen Nations; and to Mr. 
 Fell's Idolatry of Greece and Rome, distinguished from that of other 
 Heathen Nations. 
 
390 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 and so arc fo liiin as nothinj!; ; and tliis, by the way, 
 is a stronur argument lor the iniinity of the Divine 
 lieing-. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Let it be observed, that the pr»position is to be 
 taken only in a g;eneral sense ; for we have not any 
 assiiranee by the light of nature, that no human 
 soul shall ever arrive in its improvement to an 
 equality with the most exeellent of those superior 
 spirits. On the other hand, that there are some 
 spirits now superior to what those of men are in this 
 imbodied state, is in efTect no other than a corollary 
 from Prop. 82. 
 
 Republic of Letters, vol. vi. p. 282—284. 
 
 LECTURE XCIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXMI. 
 More fully to prove that it is the interest of every 
 man to cultivate virtue throunh the whole course of 
 bis life, and in every particular action. Vid. Prop. 
 44. Cor. 2. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Ax. 15. Cor. Schol. 1. 1. There is a secret and 
 immediate pleasure attending virtuous actions, 
 especially those of a benevolent kind, or those in 
 which there is any remarkable degree of gratitude 
 and piety towards God ; wliich pleasure is of a 
 very sublime and delightful kind, vastly preferable 
 to any sensual gratification, — as those who have 
 tried both experimentally know ; and pious philo- 
 sophers wfil acknowledge that the immediate plea- 
 sures of virtue are superior to those of science. 
 
 2. In reflecting upon all virtuous actions, and 
 particularly those which are attended with the 
 greatest difficulty, there is a high satisfaction of 
 mind. 
 
 3. Human nature and life are so constituted, 
 that, generally speaking, health, reputation, and 
 interest in the world, and, in a moderate degree, 
 the possessions of it, may be most eflectually secured 
 by a virtuous course ; at least it is seldom or never 
 injurious to any of these. 
 
 4. A good man lias or may have a source of hap- 
 piness distinct from all these, in the pre-sent views 
 of the favour of God, a confidence in his care, and 
 the prospect of a future state of happiness after 
 death, — by which he may be delightfully supported 
 under those calamities which are common to all ; 
 so that the painful sense of them may sometimes be 
 swallowed up in vastly superior pleasure. 
 
 5. On the contrary to all this, a wicked man 
 often finds a great deal of uneasiness in his vicious 
 aflections and actions, especially in his reflections 
 upon them : he often brings upon himself diseases, 
 
 infamy, poverty, and various kinds of distress in 
 life, greatly aggravated by tlie apprehensions of 
 the divine displeasure, and the fears of future evil 
 to arise from it, in this life and in the next. 
 
 1,5. G. If we consider only the present life, it 
 appears that virtue does ordinarily, on the whole, 
 tend to promote its happiness. 
 
 Prop. S2. 7. Though it be granted that, in some 
 extraordinary cases, it may be otherwise than has 
 been represented in the former steps, (vid. Prop. 
 82. Sell. 1.) yet the future state will abundantly 
 overbalance all the advantages which there may, in 
 any imaginable circumstances, be on the side of 
 vice ; even where the most gloomy fears have 
 clouded the virtuous mind on the one hand, or, on 
 the other, the vainest hopes have been entertained 
 by the bad man, his conscience ever so much dead- 
 ened and perverted, or where his course of pros- 
 perity in life has been ever so great. 
 
 G, 7. 8. It is on the whole the interest of every 
 man to cultivate virtue in every action. Q. E. D. 
 Wishart's Ref. Serm. p. 15—29. Hutch, on the 
 
 Pass. c. 5. Willi. Nat. Rel. lib. ii. c. i — viii. 
 
 Cast. Nat. Relit), p. 129— 13G. and p. 178— 
 
 181. Puff", de Jure, lib. ii. c. iii. § 14, 15. 
 
 Shaft. Inq. after Virtue, part ii. pass. Self- 
 
 Love and Virtue reconciled by Relig. Pope's 
 
 Ess. Epis. iv. pras. ver. 309—360. Balg. 
 
 Serm. vol. i. No. iii. Serm. at Boyle's Led. 
 
 on the Certainty and Necessity of Relig. 
 
 Night Thoughts, vol. ii. p. 95—125. No. viii. 
 
 Beattie's Elements of Moral Science, vol. ii. 
 
 p. 8^1. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It must be the interest of every one to prosecute 
 and cultivate the proper means of virtue. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It must be the interest of every person heartily to 
 repent of every instance in which he has acted con- 
 trary to virtue. Vid. Prop. 81. Cor. 4. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Some have argued the necessary connexion be- 
 tween virtue and happiness from this consideration. 
 That the Divine Being, who is perfectly virtuous, 
 is perfectly happy ; so that in proportion to the de- 
 gree in which any inferior being resembles him in 
 virtue, he must also resemble him in happiness : 
 but so far as this argument is distinct from that 
 stated in the preceding demonstration, it is incon- 
 clusive ; for if it would prove any thing, it must be, 
 that every virtuous man is, in every moment of his 
 existence, happier than any vicious man is or can 
 be ; which seems evidently contrary to fact. 
 
 Clergyman's Letter to Dr. Clarke, pass. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 831 
 
 LECTURE C. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXVIII. 
 It is on the whole for the benefit of societies to 
 cultivate virtue. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 87. 1. It tends to promote the happiness 
 of every individual member ; and therefore by con- 
 sequence of the whole. 
 
 Prop. 51. Sc/iol. 2. Virtue teaches each to con- 
 sult the good of all, and to be willing to resign any 
 private interest of his own to the interest of the 
 society, when it comes in competition with it ; so 
 constituting each man in his sphere the gnardian 
 of the public happiness. 
 
 Prop. 80, 81. 3. Virtue must ordinarily tend to 
 bring down the favour and blessing of God upon 
 societies, to which they must owe their surest 
 foundation and best prosperity ; and his interpo- 
 sition may the more reasonably be expected, since 
 societies, as such, have no existence in a future 
 state. 
 
 1, 2, 3. 4. Valet propositio. 
 
 Clarke's Serm. vol. vi. No. xiv. p. 207 — 210. 
 12mo edit. ; Works, vol. i. p. 626, 627. 
 Butler's Anal, part i. article 5. c. iii. p. 85 — 
 96. edit. 2d. Bvo. 
 
 SCHOLRM. 
 
 To this Mandeville has objected. That private 
 vices are often public benefits ; and that an uni- 
 versal reformation would necessarily produce the 
 ruin of multitudes of persons and families, who 
 subsist upon the public luxury and debauchery ; — 
 but it may be replied, 
 
 1. That though some good may arise to particu- 
 lar persons from the vices of others, it does not 
 thence follow that greater might not arise to the 
 whole from common virtues. 
 
 2. That virtue would allow the free use of many 
 things, not absolutely necessary to the support of 
 life, yet tending to make it more agreeable ; as 
 wine, tea, &c. 
 
 3. That public temperance and reformation would 
 prevent the ruin of multitudes of persons and fami- 
 lies, which is often aggravated by former splendour, 
 and the consciousness of those extravagances by 
 which they have been reduced, as well as by the 
 additional infamy attending poverty when occasion- 
 ed by such means. 
 
 4. That, during the time that the prosperity of 
 families continues, we shall judge very wrong if 
 wc estimate their happiness by their external cir- 
 cumstances, without allowing for the inward 
 temper of their minds, — the happiness of which 
 virtue would always promote, and thereby be a 
 noble equivalent for rendering them something less 
 opulent and magnificent. 
 
 5. That the community would be better defended 
 from foreign and domestic enemies by poorer 
 citizens, that were temperate, generous, and 
 courageous, than by the eflcminate, debauched, 
 and mercenary ; besides all that extraordinary pro- 
 tection, which an universally virtuous people might 
 justly promise itself from Divine Providence. 
 
 6. If the history of the most celebrated ancient or 
 modern states and kingdoms be examined, it will 
 be found they have risen by virtue, and fallen by 
 vice, agreeably to our argument in the proposition 
 above, and contrary to those principles which we 
 here oppose. — See (besides Persian Letters referred 
 to. Prop. 51, gr. 4.) 
 
 Fable of tke Bees, pass. Warh. Div. Leyat. 
 lib. i. § 6. vol. i. p. 76 — 84. Innes on Virtue, 
 p. 99, &c. Browne's Ess. on tke Charact. 
 No. ii. § 6. p. 146 — 158. Law's Tkeortj, p. 
 135 — 239. Pinto's Ess. on Luxury, pass. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXIX. 
 To take a survey of the state of virtue in the 
 world. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. A great part of the world is overrun with 
 Pagan idolatry and superstition ; many of their 
 rites are impious, obscene, or cruel ; and as new 
 countries are discovered, new scenes of wickedness 
 are discovered with them ; and it is by the way 
 observable, that several of those writers who speak 
 most favourably of the morals of newly discovered 
 countries, have, in other respects, most of the air of 
 a romance. 
 
 2. Though it is to be acknowledged that the re- 
 ligious institutions of Christians, Mahometans, and 
 .lews, contain many excellent lessons of morality 
 in all its branches, — yet it evidently appears that, 
 under all these professions, the greatest part of 
 mankind are strangers to real virtue. 
 
 3. Those who cultivate it with the greatest care 
 are, in many respects, defective ; and far from that 
 perfection which they themselves desire. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 The proof of all this is too evident, from all the 
 opportunities we have of knowing the moral cha- 
 racters of our fellow-creatures, by reading, travel- 
 ling, or observation at home. 
 
 Watts's liuin and Recov. qucest. i. § 5. p. .32 — 
 41. Barrow on tke State of Pre-existence, 
 c. vi. second edit.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 That the state of things in former ages, even 
 amongst the most polite, learned, and celebrated 
 nations of antiquity, was generally much the same, 
 
 * Grc.it additional liglit lias neen thrown iipon the history of the 
 slate of knowlid;;c and virtue amongst mankind, in consei|nencc of the 
 vast number of voyaf^es and travels to and IhritiiKh every part of the 
 world, which have been made and published witliin tlie course of the 
 last tliirty year?. 
 
332 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 appears from all tlie strain of ancient authors ; and 
 further from the known lewdness and cruelty of 
 many of their relif^ious rites, — the custom of ex- 
 posinsr eliildren, ^ind the public spectacles : besides 
 many other things illustrated in 
 
 Jtnk. oti Christ, vol. i. p. 333—364. St. lira!, 
 vol. i. England's Dlorals of the Ancients, 
 c. uU. Leland on Revel, vol. i. particularly 
 c. i. 18 — 20 ; vol. ii. part ii. c. iii. &c. Law 
 on the Theory of Relit/, part ii. p. lit) — 124. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There is great reason for adoring the divine pa- 
 tience, that the earth is still preserved, and made 
 the seat of so much pleasure, considering the exact 
 and circumstantial manner in which God knows all 
 crimes, and the almighty power with which he is 
 always armed to punish them. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Tho.se who arc themselves truly virtuous, have 
 great reason to exert themselves to the utmost to 
 stem the torrent of vice, and to support the interests 
 of virtue, which, humanly .speaking, are so weak. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 There seems a great deal of reason to suspect 
 that mankind is degenerated from some better state, 
 in which it may be supposed the race first came 
 out of the hands of so holy and good a Being as the 
 blessed God is ; and accordingly, we may observe, 
 among some ancient as well as modern nations, re- 
 
 markable traditions on that head ; which will be 
 more fully considered hereafter. 
 
 Howe, vol. i. p. 150, 151. Livint) Temp, part 
 
 ii. c. iv. § 7. Cyr. Truv. part ii. Ap. p. 
 
 93—99. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Some further discoveries from tlic Divine Being 
 seem very desirable, to lead us into the jiaths of 
 more perfect virtue and happiness ; — but the fuller 
 discussion of this will be the business of the next 
 Part of this work.* 
 
 * Though miuiy of the books hereafter mentioned have already been 
 referred to in diH'erent places, it may not be amiss, at tliis elose of the 
 Lectures on the several braueliesof Moral I'liilosophy, to make a gene, 
 ral reference to some works which it will be nropcr for a student to 
 become acquainted with, as far as may be, in tlie course of his acade- 
 mical education, and still more in his future inquiries. The more 
 diligently he applies to the best sources of information, the more will 
 his mind be enriched and strengthened, and his views of things become 
 accurate and just. It is not of so small im|)ortance to be master of 
 what the ancients have written on ethical subjects ; in which view 
 Aristotle, Plato, Xenophon, Cebes, Cicero, Seneca, r.jjictetus, Marcus 
 Antoninus, and Plutarch, will deserve to be closely studied. The great 
 body of Knglisli sermons will furnish a vast fund of information con- 
 cerning: almost every moral (juestion, and every part of human conduct. 
 Among foreign autnors, it may be sulHcient liere to mention Grotius, 
 Puffcndorf, Burbeyrac, Iturlamaqui, and Vattel. The English writers 
 which occur immediately to recollection, are as follow ; — Bishop WiU 
 kins on the Principles and Duties of Natural Religion, Dr. Henry 
 More's Enchiridion, Bishop Cumberland on the Laws of Nature, 
 Shaftesbury's Characteristics, Wollaston's Religion of Nature delineat- 
 ed, Hartley's Observations on Man, Hutcheson's Compendium, and his 
 System of Moral Philosophy, Fettiplace Bellers's Delineation of Uni- 
 versal Law, Grove's Moral Philosophy, Foster's Discourses on Natural 
 Religion and Social Virtue, Fordyce's Treatise of Moral Philosophy, 
 Nelson on Virtue and Happiness, Hume's Principles of Morals, Lord 
 Kaimes's Principles of Morality, Tucker's Light of Nature pursued, 
 Priestley's Institutes of Natural Religion, Harris's Dialogue on Hap- 
 piness, Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, Dr. Price on 
 Morals, Bruce's ICIements of the Science of Ethics, Paley's Principles 
 of Moral and Political Philosophy, Gisborne's Principles of Moral 
 Philosophy investigated, Beattie's Elements of Moral Scieuce, and Dr. 
 Ferguson's Principles of Moral and Political Science. 
 
 PART V. 
 
 OF THE REASON TO EXPECT AND DESIRE A REVELATION; AND THE 
 INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL EVIDENCE WITH WHICH WE MAY 
 SUPPOSE IT SHOULD BE ATTENDED. 
 
 LECTURE CL 
 
 DEFINITION LXVI. 
 Theology or divinity is that branch of Pneuma- 
 tology which relates in general to the knowledge of 
 God ; but especially to those extraordinary dis- 
 coveries which he is supposed to have made of 
 himself to mankind ; and considers the probability, 
 the certainty, and the contents of them. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Forasmuch as miracles arc generally urged in 
 
 proof of such extraordinary discoveries, it seems 
 proper here to inquire into the nature, use, and 
 importance of them. 
 
 DEFINITION LXVII. 
 When such effects are produced as ( cateris pari- 
 bus ) are usually produced, God is said to operate 
 according to the common course of nature ; but when 
 such effects are produced as are ( cat. par.) contrary 
 to or different from that common course, they are 
 said to be miraculous. 
 
 Conybeare on Mir. p. 6 — 12. Flectiu. on Mir. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 333 
 
 p. 2 — 5 ; 8vo ed. p. 22, 23. Clarke at Boyle's 
 Led. p. 37-1—376. Clarke and Leibnitz, 
 p. 89. § 17. p. 113. § 43—46. p. 149. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Nothing can be known to be miraculous till the 
 course of nature has been observed. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 If two opposite effects ( cat. par.) were to be 
 alternately produced, neither of them would be 
 properly miraculous ; but the alternate succession 
 of both would make up the course of nature ; v. g. 
 if the sun were to arise one morning in the east, and 
 the next in the west. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 When the course of nature can be but imper- 
 fectly known, in particular instances we may be 
 incapable of pronouncing in many respects cori- 
 ceming certain remarkable events, whether they be 
 or be not miraculous. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 A miracle contains no greater exercise of divine 
 power than an operation according to the course of 
 nature. Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 371, 372. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 Miracles are possible in general, {Cor. 4.) and 
 possible in any given instance, when the wisdom of 
 God does not require that the course of nature 
 should be preserved ; which it is impossible for us 
 to know that it always does. 
 
 It has indeed been asserted, that it is most honour- 
 able to God to suppose that he at first lays down 
 the best possible laws, from which therefore it would 
 be a defect of wisdom to deviate : but it may be 
 answered, That, at least for any thing we know, the 
 best possible scheme may be that in which there 
 shall be some deviation from the stated rules, pro- 
 vided always that those stated laws be generally so 
 far observed, as that men may know what it is their 
 duty to do, and what consequences are generally to 
 be expected from their actions, which is apparently 
 the case. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 376, 377. Cony- 
 beare's Scrm. on Mir. p. 12 — 17. Butler's 
 Anal. part. ii. c. ii. Mackniyht's Truth of 
 the Gospel History, c. iv. § 2. Campbell on 
 Miracles, ayainst Hume, part. i. Price's 
 Dissert. No. iv. pass. Douylas's Criterion. 
 Hartley on Man, vol. ii. prop. 28. Adams 
 on Miracles, part 1. Hume's Essays, No. x. 
 part. 1. 
 
 PROPOSITION XC. 
 To consider some other definitions which cele- 
 brated writers have given of miracles. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Mr. Locke defines a miracle to be " A sensible 
 operation,, which, being above the comprehension of 
 
 the spectator, is, in his opinion, contrary to the 
 course of nature, and taken by him to be divine." 
 
 Locke's Works, vol. ii. p. 270. fol. ed. 
 But on this account of the matter, every juggling 
 trick which I cannot understand, will, while my 
 ignorance continues, be a miracle to me. In 
 answer to this, Locke urges, that if this definition 
 be not taken, we can never know what a miracle is ; 
 because no man is acquainted with the whole 
 course of nature ; but though we acknowledge 
 that great part of it is unknown, yet so much may 
 be known, as that some instances may plainly 
 appear to be above it ; v. g. recovering the sight of 
 the blind, or the life of the dead, by a word speaking, 
 or multiplying bread, so that one loaf should serve 
 a thousand men, and more be left at last than there 
 was at first. Besides this, the extraordinary works 
 apprehended to be done by evil agents would not 
 be miracles on this definition. 
 
 Locke's Post. Pieces, p. 217 — 220. Chandler of 
 Mir. p. 9—11. 
 
 2. Many others define a miracle to be " An ex- 
 traordinary operation, above the power of all created 
 beings, and performable by God alone." 
 
 But this definition either goes on the false suppo- 
 sition of such a proper agency in the creature, as is 
 inconsistent with Prop. 32. ; or else supposes, con- 
 trary to fact, that wc know the utmost limits of the 
 power of created agents, allowing that to be called 
 their power which is usually communicated to them. 
 Limb. Theol. 1. i. c. ii. § 17. Chand. on Mir. p. 
 1 1 . Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 372. 
 
 3. Dr. Chandler says, " A miracle is an action 
 done, or an operation visibly performed, by any 
 being, which is really and truly above the reach, 
 natural power, and capacity of that being who does 
 it of himself, and likewise without the assistance of 
 some superior agent to perform." 
 
 This definition seems liable to the following ob- 
 jections : — 
 
 1. It supposes created beings capable of doing 
 something of themselves, and without the assistance 
 of any superior agent, contrary to Prop. .12. 
 
 2. It makes it impossible for God to perform a 
 miracle without the interposition of some creature. 
 
 3. It supposes that it would be no miracle for 
 God to send an angel to relieve a starving man, to 
 open the prison doors, or even to roll back the sun 
 in his course, supposing I know the angel so em- 
 ployed to be ordinarily capable of producing such 
 an cficcl ; whereas in truth, here would be a mira- 
 cle, in suffering an angel in such a manner to act 
 oat of his usual sphere, though not beyond iiis com- 
 mon strength. Chand. of Mir. p. 13 — 19. 
 
 Dr. Hutcheson's definition, " That it is a work 
 far exceeding human power, yet performed by the 
 command or upon the volition of a man," nearly 
 
334 
 
 \ COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 roinciilos this of Dr. Cliandlci's ; and is equally 
 liable to tin- 'id aiui od objection. 
 
 IfiUcli. Met. Synops. p. 89 ; p. 222, 223, 2d ed. 
 
 4. Dr. Clarke's delinition of what he calls a t/tr- 
 oloffinil mirncle, includes several particulars in il, 
 which may more properly be examined hereafter. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lret. p. 3S2. 383. 
 
 5. According to Dr. Sykes, " A miracle is a de- 
 sifjned efl'ect, sensible, unusual in itself, l)eyond 
 the art and power of man to do ;" and he expressly 
 declares aijainst defining it an event contrary to the 
 course of nature : but to this it may be objected, 
 
 1. That if he does not by the word nnusual, mean 
 as much as beyond the eoursc of natitre, its bcinfif 
 unusual is of no importance at all to prove any 
 thing miraculous, as in the instance of the first par- 
 helion. 
 
 2. If by sensihle be meant something made known 
 in consequence of a sensation excited by cxfenial 
 objects, distinguished from the inward perception 
 of impressions upon our minds, it is no way essen- 
 tial to constituting a miracle. 
 
 3. That the expression of desiyned is either super- 
 fluous or improper, since considering it as the work 
 of God, every thing is designed ; and if it might 
 happen without human design, it might still be mi- 
 raculous ; as if health should unexpectedly be 
 restored, while another person was praying for it. 
 
 Sykes of Mir. p. IG— 28. 
 
 6. Dr. Chapman defines it, " An unusual and 
 sensible event, most evidently either in the matter 
 or manner of it, above the power of all natural ma- 
 terial causes, and the art of man , to produce." — To 
 this it maybe objected, 
 
 1. Against the words sensible and unusual, as in 
 the last step. No. i. ii. 
 
 2. That an event may really be a true miracle, 
 though it is not most evidently so. 
 
 3. That it seems to intimate a distinction between 
 natural and supernatural material causes ; not to 
 urge that a material cause can only be a passive 
 power, nor to insist upon it, that it may be question- 
 ed whether dreams be not miracles upon this sup- 
 position ; so that here, as well as in other instances, 
 what is superadded to our definition appears to be 
 an incumbrance rather than an advantage. 
 
 Chapman's Eusebius, vol. i. p. 72 — 76.* 
 
 LECTURE CII. 
 
 DEFINITION LXVIII. 
 A DIVINE nEVELATiON is a discovery of some 
 proposition to the mind, which came in not by the 
 
 ♦ The (lUcstioii concernin^i nature of miracles is treated of witli 
 great ability in Mr. Farmer's Preliminary Considerations, in bis Diti- 
 sertalion on AfiracteSf p. 1 — 61. Tlie design of the whole work is to 
 prove that miracles are neycr cITecled without a divine interposition. 
 
 usual exercise of its faculties, but by some mira- 
 culous divine interposition and attestation, either 
 mediate or immediate. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 We shall endeavour in the following proposition 
 to prove tliat a revelation is possible, {Prop. 91.) 
 tliat it is desiial)le, {Prop. 92.) and that there is 
 some reason to hope tliat God will grant it {Prop. 
 93.) ; and then siiall more particularly examine 
 with what kind of internal and external evidence 
 we may reasonably suppose that it should be at- 
 tended. 
 
 PROPO.SITION XCI. 
 A divine revelation is a possible thing. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. God may, for any thing we can certainly tell, 
 think proper to make some discovery to his crea- 
 tures of what they did not before know, or what by 
 the use of their faculties they could not find out. 
 
 Prop. 31. 2. Since God is almighty, we may 
 assure ourselves, that he v/ho has given us a power 
 of communicating our ideas to each other, cannot 
 be at a loss for some proper method to make it ap- 
 parent to his creatures tliat it is he who spealcs to 
 them. 
 
 3. The pretences that have from time to time been 
 made to divine revelation, and the ready reception 
 they have many of them met witli, plainly show 
 that the greater part of mankind have thought it 
 not impossible. 
 
 1, 2, and 3. 4. A divine revelation is at least a 
 possible thing. Q. E. D. 
 
 Tillots. vol. iii. p. 441, 442. Conybeare on the 
 Crcdib. of Rev. p. 17. Leland's Advant. of 
 Rev. vol. i. p. 17 — 27. Farmer on Miracles, 
 c. i. §2. p. 24. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It would be most absurd to object, That God's 
 goodness will oblige him to give his creatures by 
 their natural faculties the knowledge of all that it 
 is necessary for them to know, and that his wisdom 
 will prevent his miraculous interposition to discover 
 unnecessary things ; for both these propositions 
 universally taken are false. For since it is as easy 
 for God to communicate knowledge to us by reve- 
 lation as by the use of our natural faculties, we 
 cannot say universally that he must make man in 
 such circumstances as that no revelation should be 
 necessary ; much less, that he can never sutler him 
 to fall into such circumstances. On the contrary, 
 on the first formation of mankind, (when that ex- 
 perience which now instructs us in so many things 
 of the greatest importance could not possibly be our 
 guide,) it seems that some revelation was necessary 
 with relation to his food ; for surely, unless human 
 nature were then vastly different from what it is 
 now, appetite would have been but a very- uncertain 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY, 
 
 335 
 
 and dangerous rule : and it is certain, that the giv- 
 ing necessary intimations by revelation rather than 
 by reason, would in some views be an additional 
 favour, as it would so much the more sensibly illus- 
 trate God's care of his creatures, and inspection 
 over them ; which, though it might be solidly rea- 
 soned out on principles laid down above, might be- 
 come more obvious in this case, at least to weaker 
 minds. Nor is it, on the other hand, true that God 
 bestows on his creatures nothing that is unncces- 
 sarj' ; if by unnecessary be meant, what in the present 
 connexion it must mean, only something without 
 which they might have enjoyed some considerable 
 degree of happiness sufficient to overbalance the 
 evils to which they are exposed, — nothing is more 
 evident than the contrarj', i. e. that God has con- 
 sulted our convenience and delight in numberless 
 instances. 
 
 Delany's Rev. Examined, vol. i. p. 2, 3. Le- 
 land against Tind. c. i. ii. iii. Ditto on the 
 Advant. and Necess. of Rev. vol. i. p. 48 — 51. 
 4to edit. Hartley on Man, vol. ii. Prop. 27. 
 
 LECTURE cm. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCII. 
 The circumstances of mankind arc such, as to 
 render a divine revelation highly expedient and 
 desirable. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 1. In the generality of mankind we too plainly sec 
 I such indolence with regard to the things of religion, 
 1 such strong passions, such early prejudices, and in- 
 veterate habits of vice, as render them very unfit 
 for an impartial inquiry after divine truth. 
 I 2. The greater part of mankind, even those whose 
 morals are least vitiated, are so entangled in secular 
 cares, that they have little leisure for long and 
 j laborious inquiry. 
 
 '3. It appears by the preceding parts of this work, 
 that it is a very laborious and dilTicult task to trace 
 out the great principles of natural religion in their 
 <lue connexion and evidence. 
 
 1, 2, 3. 4. It is not to be expected that many 
 will undertake it for themselves, or that if they do, 
 I they will succeed in it. 
 
 I Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 273—278. 
 
 .'>. There are .some points, which the mo.st diligent 
 and impartial inquirer will find it hardly possible 
 to clear up to himself, especially those relating to 
 the pardon of sin, and the complete happuiess of 
 
 • a future state. Prop. 82. Sdiol. 3. Prop. 83. 
 Schol. .5. 
 
 6. Of those things which such an inquirer may 
 be able to clear up to himself, there will be many 
 
 which it will be difficult to communicate to others, 
 considering how abstruse many of his arguments 
 will be, on the one hand, and on the other, that 
 indolence, prejudice, and secular cares, will in 
 their degree hinder the generality from inquiring 
 into truth proposed by others, as well as from dis- 
 covering it for themselves. — Vid. r/r. 1, 2. 
 
 7. Could the great doctrines of religion and rules 
 of morality be settled, and proposed, and taught 
 ever so plainly, and inculcated ever so frequently, 
 it would nevertheless be exceedingly difficult to 
 enforce the practice of them. The credit of the 
 person proposing them would do little, considering 
 the pride of the generality of mankind, and the 
 diflerence which might probably happen among 
 those who should undertake to instruct others : and 
 we have before {Prop. 77.) proved it not to be the 
 business of the civil magistrate to establish religion 
 by force ; and it is certain, if he should attempt it, 
 he could not by his secular power produce any 
 single action truly virtuous, considering how much 
 depends upon the temper and intention with which 
 an action is performed. Prop. 49. gr. 1, 2. 
 
 4, 5, 6, 7. 8. A revelation seems in theory highly 
 expedient, and in a manner necessary to bring men 
 to the knowledge of natural religion, and the prac- 
 tice of virtue. Conyb. Serin, on Rev. p. 4 — 28. 
 
 Prop. 89. 9. If we consult fact, we shall find 
 the ancient and modern world overrun with error, 
 superstition, and vice. 
 
 10. Though there have been in the Heathen 
 world some excellent teachers of morality, yet the 
 number of those who have in good earnest set them- 
 selves about it has been but small ; and some of 
 those few have been entirely ignorant of some 
 things necessary to be known, and very dubious 
 about others, concerning which they had some 
 glimmering of knowledge : where they appear to 
 have been certain themselves, they have often been 
 unable to advance a clear and distinct proof; and 
 even where proofs have been mo.st clear and dis- 
 tinct, tliey have wanted authority to enforce their 
 instructions and precepts, so that they have availed 
 but little to reform those parts of the world where 
 they dwelt ; of which the remarkable wickedness 
 of Greece, in the age of Socrates and Plato, is a 
 very melancholy instance ; as that of Rome, in the 
 days of their best moral philosophers, also was. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lett. p. 281 — 302. Jenk. on. 
 Christ, vol. i. p. 3C4— 376, 384—389 ; in 
 edit. 5. part iii. c. v. p. 367—379, 387—392. 
 Dac. Plato, vol. i. Intr. p. 7 — 9. Fiddcs on 
 Mor. Virt. c. xix. Chandler of Mir. p. 65 — 
 77. Canipb. on the Access, of Revelation, 
 passim. Leland on Adv. of Rev. vi. ch. 10, 
 12, 21. Prot. Syst. vol. i. No. xx. p. 450 — 
 464. Leland's View, vol. ii. p. 192—195. 
 Monthly Review, vol. xi. p. 9.9 — 105. 
 
836 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 8,9, 10. 11. Experience joins witli llieory, lo 
 prove a revelation so necessary to bring niankiiul 
 to the know ledfje and practice of virtue, tiiat little 
 is to be expected without it. 
 
 V2. A revelation may make the knowledge of 
 vvliat the light of nature might discover to every 
 man, more plain, easy, (u-rtain, and afl'ucting; not 
 to say that tlicrc may possil)ly be some things be- 
 yond tlie discovery of our unassisted reason, w hich 
 might prove cogent motives to virtue. 
 
 Prop. 87, 88. 13. The knowledge and practice 
 of virtue is necessary to the happiness of private 
 persons and societies. 
 
 11, 12, 13. 14. A divine revelation is, in the 
 present circumstances of mankind, highly expedi- 
 ent, and llicrefore greatly desirable. Q. E. D. 
 
 Fast, against Tind. p. 12 — 24. Caniph. Necess. 
 of Rev. pass, prtcs. e.v. vi. Watts's Strength 
 and W eakiiess of Human lieuson ; Works, 
 vol. ii. Hodges's Sermons, No. xiv. p. 297 — 
 309. Leland's Advant. of Rev. vol. ii. p. 
 27—39. ' 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The proposition may be illustrated (and especi- 
 ally gr. 10.) by observing, that the most celebrated 
 lawgivers of antiquity have thought it necessary to 
 profess some intercourse with Heaven, in order to 
 enforce their laws, though many of them w ere armed 
 with secular power ; as appears, not only in the 
 instances of Moses, but also of Zoroaster, Pytha- 
 goras, Solon, Lycurgus, Seleucus, Numa, Hermes 
 Trismegistus, Orpheus, Suphis the Egyptian, Minos, 
 Zainolxis tlie Getan, Woden the Saxon, Melesa- 
 goras the Eleusinian, Zathraustes the Arismaspian, 
 Mango-Copal the Peruvian, and Phoe the Indian; 
 to which we may also add, Amasis, Mnevis, Rada- 
 manthus, Triptolemus, Zaleucus, Lycaon, Romulus, 
 and Sertorius. 
 
 Shue/iford's Conn. vol. i. p. 319—323. Temple's 
 Miscel. part ii. Ess. ii. p. 87 — 89. Lucas's 
 Inq. vol. i. S 2. c. iii. ji. 108, 109 ; p. 79. 7th 
 edit. Customs of Ind. and Jews compared, 
 p. 6G, 57. Collier and Bai/le in Nom. Warb. 
 Div. Leg. vol. i. p. 101—109. 
 It may not be improper to observe, by the way, 
 that whereas the rise of superstition is generally 
 ascribed to the priests, it appears in fact, that 
 princes and legislators, under pretence of inspira- 
 tion, as well as by other methods, were the chief 
 agents in introducing it into the world, as is with 
 great accuracy and learning shown at large by 
 
 Chand. against Blorg. part ii. § 15. vol. i. p. 
 556 — 585. Phil, to Hydaspes, part iii. p. 53, 
 54. 
 
 LECTURE CIV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 To the reasoning in the demonstration above, it is 
 objected, by the author of Cliristianitg as old as the 
 Creation, That natural religion is so plain, as to 
 need no explication ; and so perfect, as to admit of 
 no addition. Tind. of Christianitg, e. ii. vi. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 To the first of these assertions it is answered, 
 That the diirerences there have been between many 
 learned philosophers, about many branches of natu- 
 ral religion, do evidently prove it not to be so plain 
 as is here supposed : and indeed this hypothesis 
 would entirely supersede all human as well as divine 
 teachings : and as to what is said of tlie perfection 
 of it, we reply, that if natural religion only mean 
 that wbicli in the most extensive sense may be 
 called the law of nature, i. e, the obligation on a 
 rational agent arising from the whole nature of 
 things, ( Def. 62. Scliol.) though the assertion be 
 true, it is nothing to tlie present purpose; but if we 
 mean by it merely tlie light of nature, {Def. 62.) 
 then the assertion is evidently false, being contrary 
 to fact ; but if it be a sort of medium between both 
 these, i. c. that rule of life, to the knowledge of 
 which men might attain, if they would in general 
 use their faculties well, — then it seems that it is 
 neither so perfect nor so plain as to supersede the 
 usefulness of a revelation, though it should, on the 
 other hand, be granted not to be so imperfect and 
 obscure as to render it universally of absolute 
 necessity. — On the whole, Tindal is very little con- 
 sistent with himself, when, shifting between these 
 difl'erent ideas, he sometimes insists on such a per- 
 fection of it, as is inconsistent with any tolerable 
 degree o{ plainness ; and sometimes on such a plain- 
 ness as must suppose it very imperfect. 
 
 Conyh. against Tind. p. 134 — 138 ; or Leland 
 against Tind. p. 4 — 10. vol. i. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is objected furtlier. That it seems injurious to 
 the divine goodness, to suppose that God has suf- 
 fered mankind to fall into such deplorable circum- 
 stances as the proposition represents. We answer, 
 
 1. That the proposition does not assert mankind 
 to be left under an absolute impossibility of obtain- 
 ing virtue and happiness. 
 
 2. That to leave men in great danger of error and 
 vice, and that in such a degree, as will in fact, 
 though not necessarily, prove fatal to many, is cer- 
 tainly consistent with the divine perfections, be- 
 cause we plainly see it to be done ; and is a difli- 
 eulty by no means peculiar to those that believe 
 revelation, but common to all that believe the 
 goodness of the Deity ; and what Tindal says of 
 the great evil of superstition, which he supposes 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 337 
 
 worse than Atheism, joined to the charge of super- 
 stition which he brings against the whole Christian 
 world, serves yet more to illustrate and confirm this 
 reply. 
 
 3. To suppose the light of nature ever so perfect, 
 will not infer the circumstances of mankind to be 
 less deplorable : for the degree of wickedness, and 
 consequently misery, prevailing in the world, being 
 in other respects the same, will be aggravated in 
 proportion to the degree in which their light and 
 advantages are supposed perfect. 
 
 Tind. Christianitij as old, ^c. p. 173, 174. Fast, 
 against Tind. p. 64 — 70, 73 — 77. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is objected nearly to the same purpose as be- 
 fore, That if a revelation were thus expedient, it 
 must have been universal, — there being no imagin- 
 able reason why God should give it to some rather 
 than to others. Reserving this to be more fully 
 considered elsewhere, we here answer, 
 
 1. Since, on our principles, God was not obliged 
 in strict justice to give it to any, he could not be 
 obliged to give it to all. 
 
 2. That though we cannot tell why one nation 
 should have it rather than another, there is no 
 reason to be surprised at such a distinction, con- 
 sidering in how different, and to us unaccountable, 
 a manner, all must acknowledge the means of virtue 
 and happiness to be dispensed among the children 
 of men. 
 
 3. That it is a very supposable case, that if ever 
 God gave a revelation at all, suited to the general 
 use of mankind, it was with such circumstances, 
 that its not having an universal spread, was owing 
 to the folly and wickedness of men : nay, it is a 
 very possible case, that God may already have 
 given an universal revelation ; i. e. a revelation 
 made to the human family when very small, the 
 tradition of which has been lost through their own 
 folly, though their happiness might have been 
 greatly promoted by keeping up the memory of it. 
 
 Blount's Oruc. of Rcas. p. 211, 198, 199. 
 Clurhe (It Boyle s ZrcY. p. 315— 31 8. Fost. 
 ayainsl Tind. c. ii. p. 78 — 86. Butler's Anal. 
 part. ii. c. vi. Sylies on Mir. p. 217 — 229. 
 Law's Theory of Religion, part i. Bulyuy's 
 Tracts, p. 324 — 334. Second Letter to a 
 Deist. 
 
 scnoLii M 6. 
 Those who assert a revelation to be so absolutely 
 necessary, that every man, how well soever he uses 
 Iiis reason, must inevitably perish without it, gene- 
 rally ground that assertion, not on principles of 
 natural religion, but on those passages of Scripture 
 which relate to the necessity of faith in Christ, 
 which cannot here be properly examined. 
 
 Jenk. Rcas. of Christianity, vol. i. p. 2 — 14. 
 z 
 
 LECTURE CV. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCIII. 
 There is some reason to hope that God will grant 
 a revelation. 
 
 LEMMA. 
 
 It is to be observed, that we are far from saying 
 that a man could have any certainty in this point ; 
 but a probable hope might be produced by the fol- 
 lowing considerations. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 92. 1. The circumstances of mankind 
 greatly need it. 
 
 1. 2. The general goodness of the Divine Being 
 may lead us to expect it ; and it seems probable 
 that God would not have suffered mankind to have 
 fallen into so great apostasy, unless he had intended 
 them such an assistance. 
 
 3. The provision which God has made in the 
 natural world for removing bodily disorders, gives 
 us some additional reason to hope that he will not 
 be altogether regardless of the much more danger- 
 ous diseases of the mind. 
 
 Prop. 92. Schol. 1. 4. The pretences to a Divine 
 Revelation, which have been often made, and one 
 and another of them so readily received, even some- 
 times upon veiy slender evidence, plainly show that 
 men have thought a revelation probable ; and per- 
 haps we may add, that there would not have been 
 so many counterfeits if there had been no true coin. 
 
 5. Some of the ancient philosophers, and espe- 
 cially Socrates and Plato, though they did not 
 believe the pretences to revelation made by their 
 priests, yet hoped that such a favour would be given 
 to mankind, and express their comfortable expect- 
 ation of it. 
 
 2, 3, 4, .5. 0. Valet propositio. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lcct. p. 301 — 3i0. Jachson's 
 Chronology, vol. ii. sub Jinem. Apud Monthly 
 Review, vol. vii. p. 47, 48. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 It may perhaps be objected. That since mankind 
 brought themselves into these deplorable circum- 
 stances by their own fault, there is the less reason 
 to expect any extraordinary assistance. 
 
 Ans. We allow that no particular person can 
 have any assurance that God will favour him in this 
 manner ; but since it is certain that God confers 
 many unmerited favours upon his creatures, and 
 that in the natural world many remedies arc pro- 
 vided for evils which men bring upon themselves 
 by their own folly, this objection will not overthrow 
 the preceding argument. 
 
 DEFINITION LXIX. 
 That MIRACLE is said to be uncontrolled, the 
 apparent design of which is not evidently contra- 
 
338 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 ilicted, oitlicr by llic ahsitrditi/ of llie tliiiia; it is 
 intcudoil lo prove, or by some at least t <jual miravlc 
 opposed to it. 
 
 Chand. on Mir. c. iii. Si/kcs, ih. p. 130 — 134. 
 
 SCHOLll'M. 
 
 A man may be said to perform miracles in proof 
 of a doctrine, when he asserts the doctrine, and 
 then M orks the miracle as an immediate confirma- 
 tion of it ; or when he does publicly and frccjiiently 
 assert himself to be a teacher sent from God, and 
 appeals to a train of miracles to show that he is so ; 
 for in that case such miracles (if they be al- 
 lowed to be any proof at all) do prove patlicular 
 facts or doctrines asserted by him, even though no 
 miracle be distinctly applied to such particulars. 
 Fleetwood of Mir. p. 120, 121, 220—228; 
 Works,' p. 144, 159, 160. Farmer on Mir. 
 p. 51;>— 521. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCIV. 
 When a man performs evident and uncontrolled 
 miracles as a proof of any doctrine, virtue requires 
 those who have sufllcient evidence of the reality of 
 such miracles, to admit of the doctrine as true. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION'. 
 Prop. 91. 1. God may see fit to reveal some 
 things to his creatures, not discoverable by their 
 natural light. 
 
 1. 2. God's wisdom will require him to reserve 
 to himself some certain criteria, by which his own 
 testimony may be known and distinguished by us. 
 
 Prop. 32. and Def. 67. 3. A miracle cannot be 
 performed without an extraordinary divine inter- 
 position, either mediate or immediate. 
 
 3. 4. If God would confirm the truth of a pro- 
 position to one man, by the testimony of another to 
 whom it was immediately revealed, we can think of 
 no method by which he could do it in so ell'ectual 
 a manner as by giving him a power to work a miracle 
 in confirmation of it. 
 
 Def. C9. 5. M'hen a miracle is itncoutrollcd, we 
 can imagine no circumstance by which it can be 
 distinguished from a miracle wrought to confirm a 
 truth. 
 
 4, 6. 6. If God were to suffer an uncontrolled 
 miracle to be wrought in confirmation of a false- 
 hood, it seems he could have no criterion by wliieh 
 his testimony could be distinguished. 
 
 2, 6. 7. It is inconsistent with the wisdom of 
 God, to suffer an uncontrolled miracle to be wrouglit 
 in confirmation of a falsehood. 
 
 6. 8. It would also be inconsistent with his good- 
 ness, — seeing it would leave his creatures in a per- 
 petual and melancholy uncertainty, as to the truth 
 of any pretended revelation from him ; an uncer- 
 tainty that would be most painful to the most vii- 
 tuous and religious part of mankind. 
 
 7, 8. 9. Seeing God is both wise and good, we 
 
 may depend upon it that a proposition attested by 
 uncontrolled miracles is attested by him. 
 
 Prop. 79. 9. 10. Seeing God is true, virtue will 
 require us to admit of a proposition so confirmed. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Barrow's Workfi, \'o\. ii. p. 2\4 — 216. Locke's 
 Post. Works, p. 219—222 ; Works, vol. iii. p. 
 453. edit. 3. Chand. on Mir, c. ii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 We have not mentioned that additional confirma- 
 lion which may arise to the proposition, from the 
 regard which men in all ages and nations seem to 
 have paid to miracles, as the surest proof of a 
 Divine Revelation ; that fact having been disputed, 
 especially of late, by the learned and ingenious Mr. 
 Weston, though some considerable stress is laid 
 upon it by Bishop Atterbury, in the place quoted 
 below ; and Mr. Comber has laboured to show that 
 miracles were greatly regarded by the Gentiles. It 
 is observable, that few of the legislators mentioned 
 above, {Prop. 92. Svkol. 1.) though they pretended 
 to revelations, (which by them must have been sup- 
 posed miracles, see Def. 68.) ventured to prove the 
 truth of them by professing a power to work miracles. 
 Nevertheless, though the pretended miracles of the 
 Heathens were seldom proposed as in proof of any 
 doctrine, (as will be further noted,) yet there was a sort 
 of accidental credit derived to Heathen establish- 
 ments by such pretensions to them, which occasioned 
 the multiplication of those pretences in opposition to 
 Christianity ; and is a proof, after all, that miracles 
 were not disregarded by the Pagans in general ; as, 
 considering the constitution of human nature, it 
 would be strange if they were, at least by those 
 who were themselves eye-witnesses of them, and 
 that in instances where the facts could not be dis- 
 puted. Attcrb. Post. Serm. vol. i. p. 207—210.* 
 
 LECTURE CVI. 
 
 SCHOLUIM 2. 
 
 To this it is objected, That if we believe the Bible, 
 we shall find that it is not only supposed there that 
 miracles may he wrought in proof of a falsehood, but 
 it is expressly asserted to have been fact in one case, 
 and foretold as what shall certaivli/ be in others. — 
 Deut. xiii. 1—5. Matt. xxiv. 24. 2 Thess. ii. 9, 10. 
 Exod. vii. and viii. To these texts it has been an- 
 swered by some. That they, especially the first, may 
 be only hypothetic: by others. That all the wonders 
 here spoken of are tricks, and not real miracles ; 
 
 * Wcslon'.sIiKiuirv into the Causes of the Rejection of the Chris, 
 fiaii Miraiks by l\w lleatheiis, is a work which excited some atleiition 
 al the time of its publication ; but is now nearly forg-otteii.— The 
 author's scheme lias been generally esteemed to be more fauciful than 
 juH. His Inqiiirj', however, is a book of learning'. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 339 
 
 w hich may be true of 2 Thess. ii. 9. ; but the justest 
 answer seems to be, That none of these are supposed 
 to be uncontrolled miracles, but to be sufficiently 
 confuted, eitlier by the apparent absurdity of the 
 thinof they attempted to prove, or by other more and 
 greater miracles wrought on the contrary side ; and 
 it is to be remembered in this view, that Matt. xxiv. 
 24. refers to the apostolic age ; so that all the mira- 
 cles of those false Christs were directly opposed, by 
 the sum of all those wrought in the very same time 
 in proof of Christianity. 
 
 Tillots. Serm. vol. iii. p. 499, 500 ; Serm. 175. 
 edit. 4. p. 476, 477. Limb. T/ieol. lib. iii. c. 
 xvii. § 2. Fleetw. of Mir. p. 173—209; 
 Woi-ks, p. 152 — ^157. Chapman's Eusebius, 
 vol. i. p. 119—127. Si/kes of Mir. p. 175— 
 179. Jortin's Rem. on Eccles. History, vol. 
 ii. p. 32—36. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Bisllop Fleetsvood's singular solution of the mira- 
 cles of the Egyptian Magi, may be seen at large in 
 Fleetwood, ib. p. 52—61 ; Works, p. 134, 135. 
 Shuchf. Connect, vol. ii. p. 412—433. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Others assert that by stating the case as in the 
 proposition above, we fall into a round of proving 
 the doctrine by the miracles, and the miracles by 
 the doctrine ; but the contrary is plain ; for though 
 we readily allow that nothing apparently contrary 
 to the light of nature can be proved by a miracle, 
 yet we maintain that many doctrines, of which the 
 light of nature could give us no information at all, 
 and in which, even when proposed, we can see no 
 innate mark of truth, may be proved by miracles ; 
 it being sulFicient in this case to render the proof 
 valid, that no apparent absurdity attend the doctrine 
 to be established by them, where there are no con- 
 trary miracles to be compared w ith them ; nor could 
 miracles, according to us, in any imaginable case, 
 be proved by the doctrine, be it ever so apparently 
 true. 
 
 Fleetw. on Mir. p. 169 — 173 ; Worhs, p. 161, 
 152. Hoadly's Tracts, \). Id— 2H. Clarke at 
 Boyle's Led. p. 383— .385. Bishop Sherlock's 
 Discourses, vol. i. p. 303, 304.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is further pleaded. That any one miracle is as 
 good a proof of Divine interposition as a thousand ; 
 and that all miracles are as to their evidence equal, 
 since no work can to the Divine Power be greater 
 or less than another. We answer. Though all things 
 be equally easy to God, yet there are some of his 
 works which appear to us more grand and magnifi- 
 cent than others, and more indubitably miraculous ; 
 
 We Mhoulil here ilislingiiixh, says Mr. Merivalc, between tlie ilor- 
 lunes we prove by miracles, (viz. those of revelation,) and the iloctrints 
 by whicli we «ry miracle?, viz. those of natural reliu'ion. 
 
 z 2 
 
 and the story of the Egyptian Magi, before referred 
 to, plainly shows there may be circumstances by 
 which one miracle may appear evidently to triumph 
 over another ; in which case, it seems that all the 
 evidence arising from the opposite miracle is in a 
 manner even transferred to the victorious side. 
 
 Fleetw. ib. p.30— 37, 81—83, 21 1—213 ; Works, 
 p. 131, 1.32—138, 157, 1.58. Iload. Tracts, 
 p. 5 — 16. Locke on Mir. p. 223—231 ; 
 Works, vol. iii. p. 453, 454. edit. 3. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 It must be granted that the evidence of miracles 
 seems so strong, as to render it highly probable that 
 God will not suffer it to be applied in proof of a 
 falsehood, w ithout appearing by miracle to turn the 
 balance on the side of truth ; for should he suffer 
 them often to be profaned, to confirm what is evi- 
 dently contrary to the principles of natural religion, 
 or common sense, they would gradually grow into 
 such suspicion and contempt, as we can hardly 
 suppose his wisdom would permit ; and the more 
 illustrious any miraculous fact in question appears, 
 the stronger will this argument be. 
 
 Champ. Euseb. vol. i. p. 89—93, 96 — 116. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 It is further objected. That this method of stating 
 the doctrine of miracles renders them of no use ; 
 but not to repeat what was said in answer to the 
 objection in the 4th Schol. which is nearly equiva- 
 lent to this, it is most evident they may, on this hy- 
 pothesis, serve to awaken attention : to illustrate 
 the goodness of the Deity, w hen they are of a bene- 
 volent kind, and in all instances, his power, and 
 thereby impress the consciences of men with senti- 
 ments of religious reverence and awe ; to command 
 respect to the person speaking, who might other- 
 wise, especially if in circumstances of external 
 meanness, appear pragmatical and usurping ; to 
 increase the evidence of some things which may be 
 less certainly known by natural light ; and to dis- 
 cover many others, which though not contrary to 
 reason, are not discoverable by it, nor capable of 
 receiving immediate evidence from it. 
 
 Foster ai/ainst Tind. p. 50 — 63. Attcrb. Post. 
 
 Serm. vol. i. p. 210 — 216. .lortin's liemarhs, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 3. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 It appears from the survey we have now been 
 taking, that the question. Whether evil spirits, if 
 such there be, may work miracles ? — is not of so 
 great importance as .some have represented ; since 
 it is certain that, on the principles of the proposi- 
 tion, God will not suffer them to work uncontrolled 
 miracles ; and if any such should be wrought in 
 proof of a falsehood, charging it upon an evil sjjirit 
 would by no means remove the difficulty, since such 
 a spirit could act no otherwise than by a divine 
 
340 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 cncrsry comimiiiicated to liini. (Prop. Ci'2.) Never- 
 theless, if a iniraele were ever wroiifjlit, which was 
 controlled liy the absurdity and wickedness of the 
 doctrine to be proved by it, or by a series of oppo- 
 site and {greater miracles, in that case, it seems 
 more congruous to the Christian scheme (if there 
 appear to be reason for admittinp; it) to ascribe siicli 
 nuracles to the power of evil spirits, than to si)eak 
 of them as the work of God. V'id. '2 'I'/iess. i'l. i). 
 Acts xiii. 10. Job ii. 7. compare Rev. xiii. 2, 14. 
 Vid. Prop. 32. Si/iol. 3. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Led. p. 318 — 322. Jortin's 
 
 Remarks, vol. ii. p. 3. Farmer on C/irist's 
 
 Temptation, p. 25—27. * 
 
 LECTURE CVII. 
 
 DEFINITION LXX. 
 That is called the internal evidence of any 
 revelation, which is drawn from the consideration 
 of those declarations and doctrines which are con- 
 tained in it ; and that is called its external evi- 
 dence, which arises from some other circumstances 
 referring to it, v. g. predictions concerning it, mira- 
 cles wrought by those who teach it, its success in 
 the world, &c. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCV.+ 
 To inquire what kind of internal evidence we 
 may probably expect to find in a divine revelation. | 
 LEMMA. 
 
 Let it be observed, that the divine revelation of 
 which we here speak, is supposed to be one intended 
 for the benefit of mankind in general, and introduced 
 as that in which the whole scheme of revelation 
 
 ♦ Most of tlie questions to wliich tliese scltolia refer are amply con- 
 sidered by Mr. Farmer, in his Dissertation on Mir.icles. 
 
 + This and tlie ninety-seventh Proposition seem liable to some ob. 
 jertioti. It must be owned that we arc very little f|ualified to jndsc a 
 priori what kind of evidenre, and especially what rxternai evidence, 
 should attend a divine revelation ; and to .select all the particulars of 
 that evidence with which the Christian reliL'ion was attended, and to 
 propcse this as the standard by which revelation in general is to l)e 
 tried, looks too much like an attempt to prepossess the mind in favour 
 of Christianity, before it is fairly examined. The author seems to have 
 been aware of this objection himself; and has .iccordinjily, in the 
 l.emma to the 07th Proposition, endeavoured to soften the manner of 
 expression ; as if the intention of the proposition was only to show the 
 reasonableness of such kind of evidence, if it should hereafter appear to 
 have in fact attended any supposed revelation, without assertin;^ that 
 all the particulars of this evidence would have occurred to us as pro. 
 bable when only reasoninij upon it in theory ; for it is evident that to 
 sec the reasonableness of any scheme when it is ])ropf).sed to us, is a 
 very different thins from making: the discovery ourselves: hut tliou;;h 
 this way of stating the cjue.stiou must be allowed to lie less exception, 
 able than the other, yet it seems, on the whole, that this inquiry would 
 be made with much greater advanlap^e, if it were reserved till the 
 evidence, which has in fact attended Christianity, were fully slated. 
 We should then be better able to judge of any olijections that are made 
 to particular parts of the evidence, and sboufd be prepared to make a 
 more precise ami determinate answer; whereas, when the subject is 
 only treateil in theory, our reasoning upon it will of necessity be more 
 indeterminate, and therefore less satisfactory : an instance of which we 
 have in the objections that are urged in some of the following pages, 
 against posili\c institutions and a traditional revelation. — Former 
 Editor. 
 
 X See, says Dr. Savage, both the internal and the external evidences 
 to lie required in a divine revelation, well laid down in liailcy's Essay 
 oil Divine Inspiration, part the second. 
 
 terminates ; for otherwise it must be acknowledged 
 that there may be particular revelations on different 
 occasions, which may be very credible, though not 
 attended with all those internal evidences ; nor 
 could it be expected that every discovery which 
 God makes of himself to any particular person or 
 nation, should answer all these characters. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. We may be sure it can contain nothing ap- 
 parently contrary to the light of nature, — because 
 that is the law of God, (Def. (51.) anil he is too 
 wise and too faithful to contradict himself. 
 
 2. It may be expected that it should further con- 
 firm some important truths known by the light of 
 nature, and clear up the difiiculties which hang on 
 some articles in which our happiness is much con- 
 cerned ; particularly, that it should give us firmer 
 assurance of the pardon of sin in a way consistent 
 with the divine justice, and that it should discover 
 more of a future state of happiness, perhaps also of 
 the entrance of sin and calamity into the world. 
 
 3. It may very probably contain a discovery of 
 some doctrines as well as facts, which, though not 
 inconsistent with our natural light, are not dis- 
 coverable by it. 
 
 4. As it is very probable that much of it will 
 relate to the Divine Being and his operations, it is 
 to be expected that, though some additional light 
 may be given us as to many things concerning him, 
 yet these discoveries may be connected with further 
 hints relating to what is yet unknown ; so that there 
 may be many things in it beyond our adequate com- 
 prehension, or, in other words, some things myste- 
 rious. Vid. Prop. 18. Cor. 3. 
 
 5. Nevertheless, we may conclude that the most 
 important things will be plainly revealed ; so that 
 every honest inquirer may come to a full satisfac- 
 tion about them. 
 
 6. The end of all must be to subserve virtue, and 
 so to promote the happiness of mankind ; and those 
 additional discoveries beyond what the light of 
 nature could have found out (supposed gr. 3.) will 
 no doubt centre in this, and not tend merely to 
 amaze our minds and excite our curiosity. 
 
 7. Considering how greatly and how universally 
 pride prevails in the minds of men, how detrimental 
 it is to almost all the branches of virtue, and how 
 much it taints and debases many actions which 
 would otherwise be the most excellent, as likewise 
 how ill it becomes any creature, and especially a 
 mortal and a sinful creature, it is exceedingly pro- 
 bable that the whole series of a divine revelation 
 will evidently tend to exalt God and to humble 
 man. 
 
 Tillots. vol. iii. p. 442, 443. Dod. x. Serin. No. 
 viii. p. 209 — 21 1 . Dtichal on the Presumptive 
 Evifl. of the Christ. Relig. p. 111—118. But- 
 ler's Anal. part. ii. c. iii. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 341 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is objected, That on these principles a reve- 
 lation must be needless, — since a man must under- 
 stand the principles of natural religion before he 
 can judge of a revelation ; and if he can judge of 
 these, he does not need a revelation. 
 
 To what is said in Prop. 94. Schol. 7. we may 
 here add the following remarks : — 
 
 1. We allow that the being and truth of God 
 must be known, before we can judge of the internal 
 evidence of a revelation as above. 
 
 2. That nevertheless a revelation may improve 
 what is known, correct mistakes, and excite men by 
 proper motives to the practice of virtue, which they 
 generally need more than merely to be instructed in 
 its nature. 
 
 3. That a revelation may be a means of leading 
 a person into the knowledge and belief of those 
 doctrines which must be believed before that reve- 
 lation can be admitted ; v. g. miracles may convince 
 an Atheist of the being of a God. 
 
 4. That the report of a revelation, and some pro- 
 bable external evidence of its truth striking the 
 mind, may lead into more attentive reflection on the 
 principles of natural religion ; and thereby further 
 promote the knowledge of them, and make way for 
 a rational admission of the revelation itself, with a 
 regard to its internal evidence as now better under- 
 stood. 
 
 5. That the evidence with which a revelation is 
 attended may further convince even a wise and good 
 man of those things which he before believed, and 
 on the belief of which he admitted the revelation as 
 probably true ; v. r/. remarkable appearances of God 
 may further prove his particular providence ; and 
 the accomplishment of prophecies and threatenings 
 may introduce a further and more lively conviction 
 of his truth. To which we may add, 
 
 6. That the whole objection is founded upon an 
 evident mistake ; since it lies against all methods 
 of instruction whatsoever, and might be applied 
 even to mathematical treatises; as it might be said 
 they cannot improve reason, — since we must by 
 reason judge whether the arguments are conclusive. 
 
 Tind. of Christianity, p. 3G9. edit. 1. p. 77 — 82 ; 
 2nd edit, former part of c. xiv. p. .335. Fast, 
 arjainst Tind. p. 41—51. part i. Lcland 
 nyainst Tind. vol. ii. p. 95 — 100. Butler's 
 Anal. part. ii. c. i. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It may be questioned, Whether a revelation is to 
 be admitted, which commands an action forbidden 
 by the general rules of morality, v. g. to kill an in- 
 nocent child, or put a whole nation of men to the 
 sword. 
 
 Ans. 1. That cannot be a divine revelation which 
 requires any thing which, all things considered, is 
 in present circumstances evil. 
 
 2. It is dilficult for us to say that such actions as 
 those here mentioned are in all cases and circum- 
 stances unlawful, or even that human sacrifices are 
 universally so ; because it is possible they may be 
 for the public good ; and God, whose views are in- 
 finitely more extensive than ours, might see them to 
 be so in circumstances when we could not possibly 
 discern it. 
 
 3. Upon the whole, therefore, we must judge by 
 comparing the evidence on both sides ; and if, in 
 any given instance, we have a stronger evidence 
 that God requires a thing, than we have, on the 
 other hand, that in present circumstances it is 
 an evil, — we are then to believe it good, and to 
 obey the revelation requiring it ; depending upon 
 it that God will, one way or another, interpose, to 
 prevent such an issue of the affair, as it would be 
 contrar}' to his perfections to permit. 
 
 Chuhh's Prev. Quest, pass. Sutler's Anal, part 
 ii. c. iii. p. 267, 268, 8vo edit. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Considering how liable the human mind is to 
 mistake, great care should be taken that we do not 
 admit any principle as certain which may really be 
 doubtful, with respect to natural religion ; lest, 
 trying revelation by this complex notion as a 
 standard, we should reject any thing that is really 
 authentic, and sufficiently proved to be so by exter- 
 nal evidence. This therefore is to be diligently 
 attended to upon the principles laid down above, 
 and one part of the internal evidence weighed 
 against another, as well as the sum of both with the 
 external, in order to form a right judgment. — See 
 Prop. 120. § 1, S. 
 
 LECTURE CVIII. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXI. 
 Those are called positive institutions or pre- 
 cepts, which are not founded upon any reasons 
 known to those to whom they are given, or disco- 
 verable by thein, but Mhich are observed merely 
 because some superior has commanded them. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It is plain that positive precepts may be distin- 
 guished from arbitrary precepts, i. e. those which 
 arc founded upon the mere will of the commander, 
 and for which he himself can see no reason. 
 
 Conyh. against Tind. p. 155 — 157. Main Arg. 
 p. 45, 46. Hallet on Script, vol. iii. p. 187 — 
 191. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCVI. 
 
 There may be positive institutions in a religion of 
 which God is the Author. 
 
342 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 DKMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. There are various relations of tilings unknown 
 to us, and beyond the discovery of our natural 
 faculties. 
 
 1. 2. It is possible those unknown relations may 
 rciuler some tilings fit to be done by us, which wo 
 cannot see ourselves under any obligation to. 
 
 Prop. 33. 3. These are most clearly known to 
 the Divine Mind. 
 
 1,2,3. 4. God may have sulTieicnt reasons, to 
 us unknown, for appointing some particular actions, 
 which we could not otherwise see ourselves obliged 
 to. 
 
 5. There may be, in other instances, a general 
 reason for appointing some test of our obedience, 
 when tliere is no peculiar reason for preferring one 
 to another. 
 
 6. Humility, and consequently virtue, may be, in 
 some circumstances, more effectually promoted, 
 when we are required to obey commands founded 
 on reasons unknown to us, than if those commands 
 carried their own ai)parent reason along with them; 
 and it may be with this view tliat God sees fit to 
 conceal from us the foundation of the commands in 
 question. 
 
 7. Civil governors may make laws founded on 
 reasons unknown to their subjects, and proper to be 
 concealed from them. 
 
 8. God, as our Creator and constant Benefactor, 
 has a right to command us incomparably superior 
 to that of any civil governor. 
 
 9. Circumstances of worship will appear more 
 solemn, when considered as matters of divine insti- 
 tution, than merely as matters of human invention ; 
 and a greater solemnity may thereby be added to 
 the worship itself ; by which means they may have 
 a remoter tendency greatly to promote those several 
 virtues, wliich sueli acts of religious worship are 
 intended to subserve. 
 
 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. 10. There may be positive 
 institutions in a religion of which God is the Author. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Comjh. p. 158 — 170. Fost. against Tindal, 
 p. 281—284. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this it is objected, That forasmuch as God is 
 unchangeable, (Prop. 30. Cor.) his will and our 
 duty to him must always be the same. 
 
 Alls. Our general duty will always be the same ; 
 but the particular expressions of it must vary as our 
 circumstances vary; nor is there any change in the 
 divine will implied in such a variety, or in his 
 giving new commands to us, when those new 
 circumstances arise, more than there is in his pro- 
 ducing new creatures. 
 
 Tind. ib. p. 20 ; 8vo, p. 118. c. x. Conyh. ib. 
 p. 170—174. Fost. ib. c. iv. p. 288, 289. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 2. 
 
 It is also objected. That it is inconsistent with 
 the divine wisdom to command indifferent things as 
 necessary. It is answered, They are not com- 
 manded as necessary, i. e. as morally and univer- 
 sally so, thoiigli in the present circumstance they 
 may be expedient ; and if they could never in any 
 instance be exi)edienf, they would not be indillcr- 
 ent, but universally and morally evil, contrary to 
 the hypothesis. 
 
 Tind. ib. p. 131, 132. Cotiyb. ib. p. 174—177. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is said to be inconsistent with the goodness of 
 God to fetter our liberty, and thereby impair our 
 happiness, by requiring things under certain penal- 
 ties, which we might else Iiavc been excused from ; 
 and that this will turn a revelation into a curse 
 instead of a blessing. 
 
 To this it is replied, 
 
 1. It is not granted that every positive institu- 
 tion as such docs necessarily impair our happiness, 
 whether by restraining our liberty, or by multi- 
 plying our care in observing them ; for the pleasure 
 a pious mind will have in resigning to God's will 
 some of its enjoyments, and in finding itself con- 
 tinually employed in his service, may upon the 
 whole make the observance of such positive pre- 
 cepts more delightful than a freedom from them. 
 
 2. The tendency these things may have in their 
 consequences to promote virtue, may, on the whole, 
 be vastly more than an equivalent for present 
 pleasure forborne, and labour and diHicuIty in- 
 curred. 
 
 3. If, on tlie whole, these positive precepts did 
 diminish our happiness, a revelation, of which they 
 are a part, might contain such advantages of another 
 kind, as on the whole to make it a great blessing ; 
 nor can it by any means be proved that every thing 
 which God requires of us must immediately promote 
 our happiness, any more than that all he appoints 
 in the course of his providence must have this cilect. 
 
 Tind. ib. p. 123 and 131. c. xi. Conybeare, ib. 
 p. 177 — 182. Limb. Collat. ap. Sped. vol. 
 iii. No. 213. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is objected, That it is self-contradictory to sup- 
 pose God should forbid that by a revelation, whicli 
 he has allowed by a natural law. 
 
 Ans. 1. No natural law allows it in *!/(7i circum- 
 stances, as those in which it is by a revealed law 
 forbidden ; i. e. when God has expressly deter- 
 mined a case, in itself indilfercnt. 
 
 2. On the same principles, all those civil laws 
 are to be condemned, by which tilings are forbidden 
 which are not directly contrary to the law of nature. 
 Main Arg. p. 52. Fost. against Tind. p. 
 285—288. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 34» 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is also objected, That positive precepts over- 
 charge the mind, and so lead to the neglect of moral 
 virtue; and that if people come to believe, these 
 things good for any thing, they will soon suppose 
 them good for every thing ; i. e. place the whole of 
 their religion in them, considering how prone men 
 are to superstition. Prop. 76. ScJioI. 7. 
 
 Ans. 1. There is no arguing against the use of a 
 thing from the possibility of its being abused ; for 
 then all the entertainments and supports of human 
 life must be condemned. 
 
 2. It is reasonable to believe, that if God gives a 
 revelation in which positive precepts are contained, 
 he will take proper care to distinguish them from 
 the great precepts of moral virtue. 
 
 3. A few positive precepts, given in a revelation, 
 declaring the rule of faith and practice, may more 
 effectually prevent the increasing and idolizing such 
 observances, than if none at all had been appointed. 
 
 Tind. of Christianity, p. 123, 124. Coiujh. 
 against Tindal, p. 182 — 193. Main Arg. p. 
 48—51. Post, against Tind. p. 282—303. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It appears from this survey of the subject, that 
 the insertion of some positive institutions, in a 
 proper manner moderated, and declared subordinate 
 to the precepts of moral virtue, is so far from being 
 an objection against such a revelation, that it is 
 rather to be considered as an additional part of its 
 internal evidence ; especially considering, that as a 
 divinely instituted religion will probably require 
 some association of its professors, there must, in the 
 nature of things, be some form of entering into that 
 association, and of maintaining a profession of con- 
 tinued adherence to it ; which will have evident 
 advantages, if supposed of divine appointment. 
 
 Butler's Anal, part ii. c. i. p. 215 — 217. Svo 
 edit. Lett, to Wallace, p. 8 — 11 ; Answer, 
 p. 27 — 33. Leland against Tindal. vol. i. p. 
 51 — 92. Lett, of Posit. Inst, prefixed to Le- 
 land, vol. ii.* 
 
 LECTURE CIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCVII. + 
 To inquire into the external evidence which may 
 probably attend a revelation. 
 
 LEMMA. 
 
 It is to be observed. That w e do by no means limit 
 Ihe Divine Being to all the circumstances here men- 
 tioned ; but only remark, that if a revelation offered 
 
 * Rather affixed to volume the first ; but it is not in the second edi- 
 tion. S. 
 + Sec tlic note on Prop. 95. 
 
 should seem to be attended with such circumstances, 
 in conjunction with the above-mentioned internal 
 evidences, each of these circumstances would con- 
 cur to recommend it to our candid and diligent 
 examination. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. We might reasonably suppose, that at least 
 most of the persons chiefly employed in the first 
 publishing the revelation would be persons of 
 piety and virtue ; otherwise, we could neither 
 imagine that God would favour them with such 
 extraordinary discoveries of himself, nor could w-e 
 depend upon their veracity in reporting them to us : 
 yet we cannot say that it is necessary that all the 
 persons so employed, if there be a considerable 
 number of them, should be good men, and much less 
 that every one of them should be freed from every 
 degree of sin, though perhaps, if any one person is 
 to bear a much greater part in the revelation than 
 the rest, he may be so distinguished. 
 
 Tind. ib. p. 8 and 243 ; 8vo, p. 219. Foster 
 against Tind. p. 113, 114. c. iii. p. 112, 113, 
 Leland, ib. vol. ii. part ii. c. ii. p. 30 — 38, 
 49—53; 2d ed. p, 28—31, 39—43. 
 
 2. It is possible that some superior spirit (vid. 
 Prop. 86.) may be employed as a messenger from 
 heaven to bring this revelation ; and if he should 
 not only make a transient appearance o:i earth, but 
 take up his abode here for a considerable time in a 
 human form, giving an example of the most perfect 
 virtue, we must acknowledge the circumstance 
 extremely well chosen, and worthy the divine 
 wisdom, though we cannot pretend it to be of 
 absolute necessity. 
 
 3. We may reasonably depend upon it, that the 
 chief messenger, if such there be, or others commis- 
 sioned by him, will, at the first publishing of such 
 a revelation, be endued with a power of working 
 evident, uncontrolled, and probably, most of them 
 beneficial, miracles, — they being not only a very 
 solid proof of a divine mission, {Prop. 94.) but, 
 upon many accounts, the most plain, popular, and 
 convincing, and best suited to the bulk of man- 
 kind, — for whose benefit no doubt a revelation 
 would be calculated. 
 
 Atterh. Serm. vol. iii. p. 217—222. 
 
 4. It is probable that the chief persons employed 
 in opening such a revelation may appear in plain 
 and low circumstances of human life, rather than 
 with princely grandeur ; since in this view their 
 testimony might be less suspected of being a poli- 
 tical contrivance, and their example would be more 
 irtstructive to the generality of mankind. Nor is it 
 on the whole incredible that such persons, notwith- 
 standing their own virtue, should be despised and 
 persecuted, and perhaps put to de.ith, for their 
 attempts to reform the w orld : if this were the case, 
 
341 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 tliey would sive a most edifying example ofsiiner- 
 injf virtue, and an evidenee of the integrity ol tlieir 
 eharaeter and testimony to all ages, beyond what 
 we could conceive in other circumstances. And 
 though, for this reason, God might probably leave 
 some of them to die by their enemies' hands, yet it 
 is not unlikely, but in some remarkable instances 
 he might interpose for the delivery of his servants 
 in their extremity, either rescuing some of them by 
 miracle, in order to their farther usefulness, or per- 
 haps raising them from the dead. 
 
 Pluto de Rep. lib. ii. ap. Dod. x. Sermon, p. 
 206, edit. 1 ; p. 131, edit. 4. Fast, against 
 Tind. p. 317, 318. Flem. Christol. vol. ii. p. 
 51—53, 76—85. 
 
 6. It is not improbable that a revelation should 
 be gradualhj introduced, and the expectation of 
 mankind awakened by predictions and previous 
 miracles, before the greatest scene of all be dis- 
 closed : this is analogous to the usual method of 
 divine operation in the works of nature, and would 
 lay a foundation for a very convincing additional 
 evidenee of tlie truth of the revelation, if it should 
 appear that a variety of different persons, of differ- 
 ent ages, and perhaps different countries, had been 
 led by the providence of God and his influence on 
 their minds, to carry on their proper distinct parts 
 of one harmonious design, the connexion of which 
 was unknown to each of them. 
 
 Barrinyt. Ess. on Div. Disp. Pre/, p. 22 — 28. 
 Butler's Anal, part ii. c. vii. 
 
 6. It is probable that God may bear further wit- 
 ness to such a revelation, by giving it at first 
 remarkable success, notwithstanding strong oppo- 
 sition, and though it may be destitute of human 
 support ; and by making it visibly effectual for re- 
 forming the characters of its professors. Such facts 
 might be capable of most convincing proof to future 
 ages ; on which account they seem peculiarly proper. 
 
 7. Forasmuch as miracles would lose much of 
 their force, if they were frequently to be repeated 
 for a long succession of ages, it is not reasonable to 
 conclude that such a revelation would always be 
 attended with the same degree of sensible evidenee 
 with which it was at first introduced into the world : 
 it is more natural to imagine that God would take 
 care that the first publishers of it should deliver in 
 wriliny the history, purposes, and contents of the 
 revelation, and that their books should be trans- 
 mitted to posterity with such kind of evidence as 
 other ancient records have. 
 
 8. It is probable, that if this method of trans- 
 mitting a revelation be taken, Providence may so 
 order it, that the evidence of the main facts on 
 which it is built shall, at least in part, be drawn 
 from the testimony and confession of those by 
 whom it was opposed ; at least we must confess 
 
 that this would be a strong additional medium 
 of proof. 
 
 Dod. X. Sermon, No. viii. p. 215 — 218, edit. 2; 
 p. 206—208, edit. 1. 
 
 LECTURE ex. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The principal objections against the preceding 
 solution, are those which affect the seventh step of 
 it : we shall therefore, in the following Scholia, give 
 a view of the chief arguments brought against the 
 supposition of such a traditional revelation, (as 
 Tiudal, though with some partial ambiguity, has 
 affected to call it,) and propose the most obvious 
 answers to them. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is objected, That forasmuch as the credibility 
 of any testimony is impaired by passing through a 
 number of hands, all the evidenee which any tra- 
 ditional revelation can be supposed to have, must 
 in time be utterly worn out. 
 
 Ans. 1. Where the testimony of finy traditional 
 witness gives indubitable persuasion, the credibility 
 of the thing testified suffers no ditninution by passing 
 through his hands ; and the credit universally given 
 to many facts in ancient history, proves that the 
 decrease is exceedingly small, even in a long suc- 
 cession of ages, when the intermediate witnesses 
 are faithful, careful, and knowing. 
 
 2. That a tradition preserved by writing, is evi- 
 dently less liable to corruption than that which is 
 merely oral ; since when the facts are once recorded, 
 there is no room left for a failure in memory, — to 
 which alone the mistakes of honest men will be 
 owing in transmitting a testimony. 
 
 3. That the agreement of various witnesses, and 
 many of them in separate interests, concerning such 
 a revelation, may be more than an equivalent for the 
 little defects mentioned above. 
 
 4. That the success of a revelation, or the accom- 
 plishment of some prophecies contained in it, and 
 the illustration of many other branches of internal 
 evidence, relating to the characters of historians, 
 mutual connexion, and correspondence of facts, 
 &c. on the principles of the fifth step, may give it 
 such an increase of evidence as shall abundantly 
 overbalance all that it can be supposed to lose, by 
 being transmitted through many hundred years. 
 
 Tind. ibid. p. 185. 4to ; Svo, p. 163; 12mo, p. 
 165 — 168. Post, against Tind. p. 92 — 96. 
 Leland, ib. vol. ii. p. 113—119. Warb. Div. 
 Leg. p. 1 — 3. vol. i. Comber against Wes- 
 ton. Append. Jennings Log. Prop. xvii. xviii. 
 Ditt. on Resur. part. ii. Prop. xv. xvi. Flem- 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 345 
 
 ming's three Monuments, confirming three 
 plain Facts, passim. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is also objected, That there are so many for- 
 geries of books pretended to be ancient, that it is a 
 difficult matter to distinguish the genuine from the 
 spurious ; and that since the bulk of the common 
 people have neither leisure nor ability to manage 
 an inquiry of this nature, if they receive a tra- 
 ditional revelation, it must be by an implicit faith 
 in the testimony of those who are the teachers of that 
 religion ; so that in reality they believe not God, 
 but the priest. 
 
 Ans. 1. It is universally allowed, that learned 
 men may have sufficient evidence as to the genuine- 
 ness of ancient books, and therefore of those which 
 contain the substance of a supposed revelation : 
 and as it is highly probable, in the nature of things, 
 that books of this kind would early pass into many 
 hands, and be examined with the utmost rigour, 
 and preserved with the greatest care, the evidence 
 of their being genuine might ( cat. par.) be much 
 greater than could be obtained as to any other 
 books of equal antiquity. 
 
 2. Though the common people cannot of them- 
 selves enter minutelj' into the proofs, yet they may 
 have some opportunity of gaining rational satis- 
 faction, by consulting persons of learning and 
 seeming integrity, not merely among the priests, 
 but the laity ; and by reading books that give a 
 view of the argument, in which they may reason- 
 ably take it for granted, that especially in a learned 
 and inquisitive age, no man will cite vouchers no- 
 toriously false. 
 
 3. They may compare writers on both sides, if the 
 revelation be opposed ; and perhaps may see, from 
 the manner in which the opposition is made, what 
 may greatly confirm them in the truth opposed. 
 
 4. A person that cannot read himself, may get 
 some valuable treatises read over to him, perhaps 
 again and again by different persons, whose par- 
 tiality he has no reason to suspect, and concerning 
 whom he might be confidently sure they read what 
 was before them. 
 
 Tind. ib. p. 232—234, 4to ; p. 209—212, 12mo. 
 Fost. ib. p. 171—174, 178 — 182. Main Arg. 
 p. 67—72. Dodil. First Lett, to the Author 
 of Christ, not founded, &c. p. 52 — 56. Ben- 
 son's Reas. of the Christ. liel. part ii. Dial. 
 4. pras. p. 144, 14.5, 153—155. 
 
 SCHOLIt'M 4. 
 
 It is objected, That the common people cannot 
 be sufficient judges of the faithfulness of a transla- 
 tion, which yet is necessary in order to their under- 
 standing a traditional revelation depending on 
 books, and designed for the use of various nations. 
 Wc reply. 
 
 1. That though we acknowledge they cannot be 
 so entirely satisfied as those who understand the 
 original language, (which should recommend the 
 study of the original to those who can conveniently 
 engage in it,) — yet the unlearned may very cheer- 
 fully depend upon the testimony of persons of ac* 
 knowledged ability and known integrity, who have 
 diligently compared the version with the original, 
 and declare it as a fact on their own knowledge, 
 that it is in the main agreeable to it. 
 
 2. Such a testimony acquires a very strong addi- 
 tional degree of evidence, when persons of different 
 parties and sentiments in religion agree in allowing 
 the same version ; and when the originals are in 
 the hands of those who are its greatest enemies. 
 
 Main Arg. p. 73. Dod. x. Sermon. No. viii. 
 p. 228—231. edit. 1. 
 
 SCHOLll'M 5. 
 
 It is further objected. That there will be difficulties 
 in the most literal and faithful translation of any 
 ancient book, and in the original itself, arising from 
 the different genius of languages ; and especially 
 if it be an oriental book, from the strong figures 
 with which it will abound. 
 
 Ans. 1. Figurative language is not always ob- 
 scure. 
 
 2. It is reasonable to suppose, that if God sees 
 fit to communicate a revelation by books, he will 
 take care that the most important things shall be 
 expressed in such a manner, as to be very intelli- 
 gible in a literal translation. 
 
 3. The objection here urged would equally affect 
 all ancient books. 
 
 Fost. against Tind. p. 186—191, 194. Main 
 Arg. p. 74, 75. Leland against Tind. vol. ii. 
 p. 232—246. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 To get clear of all these objections against a 
 traditional revelation, some have asserted. That we 
 may reasonably suppose that, if God conmiunicates 
 a revelation from age to age, every particular person 
 will have the truth of a revelation so proposed 
 immediately discovered to him by some divine 
 agency on his mind ; though perhaps this may be 
 an argument only for his own use. 
 
 It cannot be denied that such an immediate im- 
 pulse on the mind of each individual is possible to 
 Divine Power : but this manner of stating the case 
 supposes the revelation to be a personal thing ; so 
 that those who have never experienced any thing 
 of this kind, would probably look upon it as an 
 cnthusiastical pretence. Yet we may perhaps rea- 
 sonably admit, that where men lie under great dis- 
 advantages for receiving the ordinary proofs, God 
 may by some secret influence so dispose their 
 minds, as that the internal evidence of a revelation, 
 and its visible effects, shall produce a very strong 
 
346 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 dejcree of assi-nt, though (licy arc forced to take 
 wilh very sleiuler rxtenuil i)roofs : to wliicli wo may 
 add, that (>od can, if he pleases, order such a 
 correspondence between certain events in his pro- 
 vidence, and certain impressions on the mind made 
 in consciiuence of tlie sufiposcd truth of a revela- 
 tion, as sliall ffreatly conlirm tlic faitli of the in- 
 quirer, and he almost eiiuivalent to miracles \vr<)ua;ht 
 for his conviction ; th()u»;)i lie may not be able to 
 make these things out fully to another. And if, 
 on the whole, the belief of any revelation produces 
 a virtuous temper, the great end of it is answered, 
 even though the person so inlluenced and reformed 
 by it may not be able to give a rational account of 
 the grounds of this assent, or may build it upon 
 some weak arguujcnts. 
 
 Lett, to Wallace, sub Jin. C/iristianity not 
 founded on Arg. pass. Dod. Ans. No. i. 
 prccs. p. 11—32. Law's Theory, p. 18—23. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 On a survey of the whole argument, we must 
 confess that a traditional revelation will be attended 
 with some diHiculties and some defects ; and that 
 those who have it, will not enjoy altogether the 
 same advantages with those to whom the revelation 
 was originally given : nevertheless, it seems rea- 
 sonable to conclude, 
 
 1. That strong degrees of internal evidence, and 
 an experience of the reforming power of any re- 
 ligion upon the minds of its professors, and es- 
 pecially on our ow n, w ill make up the deficiency of 
 some degree of external evidence, which might 
 Otherwise be >ery desirable : more especially when. 
 
 on the one hand, it concurs with some remarkable 
 personal experience, (as above. Sell. G.) and, on the 
 other, there are no strong circumstances of suspicion 
 attending what external evidence there is ; v. <j. the 
 vices of the author of that revelation, its being first 
 introduced by sanguinary methods, its acknowledg- 
 ing the w ant of miracles, or pretending to such as 
 arc palpably ridiculous, &,c. 
 
 2. That if God gives a traditional revelation, he 
 will give sncli evidence of one kind or another, as 
 shall be sufficient to convince every honest and 
 candid inquirer. 
 
 3. That it by no means becomes us to prescribe 
 to Cod what further degrees of evidence, beyond 
 what is barely sufficient for this purpose, shall be 
 given to anj' revelation. 
 
 4. That a mixture of obscurity, cither in the proof 
 or contents of a revelation, may perhaps have its 
 use ; particularly to humble men's minds, and to 
 serve as a touchstone, by which their true character 
 may be distinguished. 
 
 Grot, de Verit. lib. ii. c. xix. Dodd. Third 
 Lett. ib. p. 57 — 59. Butler's Anal, part ii. 
 c. vi. p. 226—2.35. 4to ; 333—344. 8vo. 
 sciioLirM 8. 
 In this argument, it maybe very proper to review 
 that excellent abstract of the controversy between 
 Tindal and his antagonists, which is given in 
 
 Main Arg. p. 77—80.* 
 
 * The Main ArRumcut, tlin whole title of which I do not recollect, 
 is a pamphlet that was published in 17,'n, anil which excited mnch 
 attention at tlie time of its appearance. It is now difficult to he pro- 
 cured. A collection of scarce and valuable tracts on moial and theolo- 
 gical questions is a desideratum in Engltsh literatuic. 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 IN WHICH THE GENUINENESS AND CREDIBILITY OF THE OLD AND 
 NEW TESTAMENT ARE ASSERTED AND VINDICATED. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCVIIl.* 
 Christianity is not a modern religion; but was 
 maintained and professed by great multitudes 
 quickly after the time in which Christ, its supposed 
 founder, is said to have appeared, i. e. in the days 
 of Tiberius Cicsar. 
 
 * See a good view of the argument contained in this and the follow- 
 ing proposition in Ur. Iceland's Reflections on Lord Bolinf^broke's 
 Litters on the Study of History, p. 105—122, m—3\b.— Former 
 Editor, 
 
 LECTURE CXI. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 1. There is a scries of books written by Christian 
 authors, who are said to have lived, some in the first, 
 some in the second, cenluiy, besides a multitude in 
 those that follow ; concerning the genuineness of 
 which we have as much satisfaction as concerning 
 that of any other ancient writers, whether Jewish or 
 Pagan: particularly Clemens Romanus, Ignatius, 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 347 
 
 and Pol3'carp, in less than a hundred years after 
 the time mentioned ; — Justin Martyr, Iren;eus, Ta- 
 tian, Athenagoras, and Theophilus Antiochenus, in 
 less than 200 years ; for accounts of whom see any 
 historical dictionary ; — not to mention a great many 
 others whose books are now lost, but whose writings 
 are mentioned by Eusebius and other ancients, by 
 whom also some considerable fragments of them are 
 preserved ; of whom see Prop. 101. 
 
 2. Some of the most ancient Jewish books, said 
 to have been written about these 1700 years, ex- 
 pressly mention the Christians, and bitterly inveigh 
 against them. 
 
 Lardner's Jewish and Heathen Test. vol. i. c. vii. 
 § 1 ; Works, vol. vii. p. 187—189. 
 
 3. It plainly appears that Celsus, Porphjry, 
 Hierocles, Julian, and many other heathen writers, 
 assaulted Christianity with great bitterness ; and 
 several fragments of their writings are preserved in 
 those of the Christian apologists, by whom they 
 were answered, and whose pieces are allowed to be 
 genuine, though many of the heathen originals are 
 unhappily lost. — Their antagonists were Origen, 
 Methodius, Eusebius, Gregory Nazianzen, and 
 Cyril. 
 
 Lardners Jewish and Heathen Test. vol. ii. 
 c. xvii. vol. iii. c. xxxvii. § 9 ; Works, vol. 
 viii. p. 1—5, 220— 22e. 
 
 4. Tacitus assures us, that in Nero's days there 
 was a multitude of Christians, not only in Judea, 
 where he tells us that religion began, but in Rome; 
 against whom Nero raised a persecution, attended 
 with such circumstances of ignominy and cruelty, 
 as moved the compassion of their enemies ; intimat- 
 ing also that this was not the first attempt to crush 
 that sect. 
 
 Tacit. Annal. lib. xv. c. 44. J^ardner, ib. c. v. 
 § 2 ; Works, vol. vii. p. 25.3— 2.'}.'}. 
 
 5. Suetonius also expressly mentions the punish- 
 ment inflicted upon the Christians by Nero. 
 
 Sucton. Nero, c. xvi. Pitisc. Annot. in Lac. 
 Lardner, ib. c. viii. § 3 ; Works, vol. vii. p. 
 266—268. 
 
 6. Pliny, junior, informs Trajan at large of his 
 proceedings against the Christians in Bithynia ; and 
 after having borne a very honourable testimony to 
 the morality and virtue of their character, says, 
 " That multitudes of both sexes of persons of every 
 rank were infected with this superstition, which 
 was got into villages as well as cities ; so that, till 
 he began to put the laws in execution against them, 
 the tetnples of the heathen deities were almost 
 deserted, and few could be found to buy victims for 
 them. Plin. Epist. lib. x. Ep. 97. 
 
 To which wc may add the answer of the emperor 
 to him, forbidding the Christians to be sought out, 
 — but commanding them to be punished if they 
 
 presented themselves (ib. Ep. 98.) ; and also the 
 epistle of Tiberianus, governor of Pahcstina Prima 
 to Trajan, on the same subject, and nearly parallel 
 to this of Pliny, which is preserved by John Malala, 
 in the second book of his Chronicles, and published 
 by Archbishop Usher, in his Appendix Tiberiana, 
 to the genuineness of which nothing can be reason- 
 ably objected ; so tliat it is strange that so many 
 who collect testimonies of this kind, should have 
 entirely omitted it.* 
 
 Nearly akin to this also is the letter of Scrrenius 
 Granianus, proconsul of Asia, to Adrian, with the 
 rescript of Adrian himself, in favour of the Chris- 
 tians, mentioned by Justin Martyr, and also by 
 Melito, as quoted by Eusebius. 
 
 Biscoe at Boyle's Lect. p. 449, 450. Euseh. 
 
 Hist. lib. iv. e. viii. ix. and xxvi. Just. 
 
 Mart. Op. p. 99, 100. Lardner, ibid. c. ix. 
 
 § 3. c. ii. § 2, 3 ; Works, vol. vii. p. 291 — 
 
 294, 358 — 364. Jortin's Remarks on Eccles, 
 
 Hist. vol. ii. p. 82, 83. 
 
 7. Lucian expressly mentions the Christians, as 
 performing some extraordinary works, as resolutely 
 bearing some extreme sufferings, as expressing a 
 great contempt of heathen deities, and as remark- 
 able for tlieir mutual charity, as well as for the 
 prophets and the missionaries of their churches ; 
 and though the author of the Philopatris be not 
 certainly known, it is undoubtedly a very ancient 
 piece, in which Christians and thejr affairs are 
 expressly mentioned in a great variety of circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Moyle's Works, p. 261—263. Postk. Works, 
 vol. i. p. 285, &c. Huet. Dem. Evung. p. 41, 
 42. Prop. iii. § 20, ad fin. Lucian de Morte 
 Pereg. ap. Op. vol. ii. p. 565 — 567. Pseudo- 
 mant. ib. vol. ii. p. 419 — 423. Biscoe at 
 Boyle's Lect. p. 4.50, 451. Lardner, ibid. c. 
 xix. passim ; Works, vol. viii. p. 69 — 81. 
 
 8. Marcus Antoninus expressly mentions the 
 Christians as examples of an obstinate contempt of 
 death ; and in his Constitutions to the Community of 
 Asia (quoted from Melito, who wrote in this empe- 
 ror's time, by Euseh. Eccles. Hist. lib. iv. c. xiii.) 
 speaks of the Christians as having for a considerable 
 time been persecuted even to death. See also Jus- 
 tin Martyr's Apology to M. Anton, ap. Op. p. 101, 
 102. To which we may add, that Epictetus is 
 generally supjioscd to have referred to them, when 
 he speaks of the fortitude with which the Galila-ans 
 endured the severest torments ; and Galen, the cele- 
 brated physician, in the second century, uses the 
 obstinacy of the Christians in defending their tenets, 
 as a proverbial expression, 
 
 * Tlic epistle nscrilicrt to Tiberiiinus is not imderslood to Ijc genuine. 
 Mr. Dodwell has examined it with partieul.ir attention, and lias ai jfueil 
 that it is a downri;;ht for^reiy. His ar;;unKiit has been approved of 
 by I'ani, Basnage, Lc Clere, Jortin, and hy learned eritics in general, 
 .(ohn Malala was a writer near the end of the sixth century, and of little 
 Tedit. Lardner's >fo)'#», vol. vii. p. 321, 322. 
 
348 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Marc. Antoninus, lil). xi. c. iii. Clcrici Hist. 
 Kcclcs. p. Arr. Epict. lib. iv. c. vii. p. 
 
 4(10. Lard. Heathen Test. vol. ii. c. xxi. c. 
 X. § (). c. xiv. § 3. c. XV. §2 ; Works, vol. viii. 
 p. 90, 91. vol. vii. p. 354 — 3o7, 390-395, 
 398 — 106. Moyle's Post. Wor/is, vol. ii. p." 
 93 — 96, 243 — 25.5. Moi/le's Discourse, in the 
 Theo/oi/ic(i/ Repository, vol. i. 
 
 9. Justin Martjr, in his dialogue with Trypho, 
 mentioning; the practice of the Jews to curse the 
 Christians in their synagfogues, charges it upon 
 them as a known fact, " That after the death of 
 Christ, and while Jerusalem was yet standing, they 
 sent out chosen men from them into all the world, 
 to inform them that the new sect of the Christians 
 was an atheistical sect ; expressly to contradict the 
 doctrine of Christ's resurrection and ascension, 
 and to warn them in the most solemn manner against 
 receiving it." 
 
 Just. Blartyr. Trypho, p. 1C9— 171, and 3G8. 
 edit. Thirlb. Lardner's Cred. vol. i. lib. i. c. 
 viii. ^ 2 ; Worhs, vol. i. p. 171, 172. 
 
 10. The same Justin Martyr, not much above 100 
 jears after the death of Christ, declares it as a no- 
 torious fact, " That there was no nation of men, 
 whether Greek or Barbarian, not excepting even 
 those wild stragglers, the Amaxobii, and Nomades, 
 who had no fixed habitation, who had not learned 
 to invoke the One Father and Former of all things, 
 in the name of Jesus who was crucified ;" and 
 though one may allow something hyperbolical in 
 the expression, it must undoubtedly contain a most 
 important testimony to the fact asserted in the pro- 
 position, parallel to which is a celebrated passage 
 in Tertullian, referred to below. 
 
 Justin Martyr, Trypho, p. 388. Thirlb. edit. 
 Tertul. Apol. c. xxxvii. ap. Op. p. 30. Ap. 
 Reeves's Apol. vol. i. p. 323— 32G. Mac- 
 knight's Tr uth of the Gospel History, book iii. 
 0. iv. § 1. p. 489 — 495. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is observable, that most of these writers, at the 
 same time that they mention the Christians as a 
 body of men then in being, do also mention the 
 persecutions they endured ; an important fact, which 
 is also further confirmed by the apologies of Justin 
 Martyr, Tertullian, Minutius Felix, Athenagoras, 
 and Origen ; which are undoubtedly to be reckoned 
 among the most valuable remains of antiquity. 
 
 Dodd. Ten Ser7n. No. viii. p. 226—230. Chand. 
 
 of Persecut. p. 17—30. Macknight, ib, § 2. 
 
 p. 495—519. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It seems exceedingly probable, that when Seneca, 
 (apud August. Civ. Dei. vi. 11.) Tacitus, Dio, Nu- 
 matian, and other Pagan writers, speak of the vast 
 increase of the Jewish sect, about their age, and of 
 
 the severe punishments inflicted upon them for their 
 religion, they do at least include, if not principally 
 refer to, the Christians, whom they looked upon as 
 a branch of the Jews; because the founders and 
 first teachers of Christianity were by birth of that 
 nation.* Huet. Dem. Prop. 3. § 21. p. 42. 
 
 LECTURE CXII. 
 
 PROPOSITION XCIX. 
 There was such a person as Jf.sus of Nazareth, 
 the founder of the Christian Religion ; and he was 
 crucified at Jerusalem about seventeen hundred 
 years ago, i. e. during the reign of Tiberius Caesar. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 98. 1. There were a multitude of men 
 who called themselves by the name of Christ, and 
 professed the religion which he was said to have 
 founded, a little after the time in which we assert 
 that he lived. 
 
 2. We can never imagine they would have done 
 this, especially at so great a hazard of their pos- 
 sessions and their lives, {SchoL 1.) if they had not 
 been well assured that he was a real person, and 
 not merely a fictitious name. 
 
 3. Tacitus expressly says, " That he was the 
 author of the Christian name, and that he was put 
 to death by Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator 
 for Tiberius C?esar." — Tacit. Ann. lib. xv. c. 44. 
 
 And Pliny, in the passage quoted before, {Prop. 
 98. yr. 6.) asserts, " That the Christians sang a hymn 
 to Christ as to a God." 
 
 4. The primitive Christians appeal to the acts of 
 Pilate, as giving an account of the innocence and 
 death of Christ ; and though we readily allow those 
 now extant to be spurious, yet we can never think 
 such writers would have made such appeals, espe- 
 cially to the very persons in whose keeping these 
 monuments were, (if they were at all,) had they not 
 been satisfied of their existence and contents.f 
 
 Justin Mart. Apol. p. 76. c. 84. e. Tertull. 
 Apol. c. xxi. Ditton on the Res. p. 416 — 
 420. edit. 1712 ; p. 467—470. p. 354—3.56. of 
 edit. 1720. Vand. de Orac. p. 608—624. 
 Fahrio. Cod. vol. ii. p. 298—301 ; vol. iii. 
 
 * Mr. Merii alc li.is added a third .Srlioliuni, wliii li is as follows; — 
 " Scvi ral of tlie foresoinz testimonirs repressnt the Cliristians as ex. 
 trcmcly mimeroiis hidwd, even in the first and second centuries, par. 
 ticul.irly tliose (|iioted qr. 4, 6, 7, and 10 ;-so stale that it shonld seem 
 that in many plaees they vastly exrecded tlie Heathens in nunnber; 
 whieh, nevertheless, from other considerations, appears to he very im- 
 probable. We must, therefore, consider these representations rather as 
 strains of rlic toric than as strict tnitli and plain matters of f,ict " 
 
 liurneVs If^urUa, p. ICS— 170. Afnyle'n Post. IVorks, vol. ii. p. 
 K2, 83, llr4— 110, I42-If.2, 292-2H7, ,320-;!27. 
 + The cpiestion concerning the acts of Pilate, and his letter to Tibe. 
 rius, is particularly considered by Dr. Lardner, who, in his general 
 sentiments upon the subject, coincides with Or. Doddridge. 
 
 Lardiiei-s Work), vol. vii. p. 231—244. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 349 
 
 p. 455 — 465. Addison of Christianity, c. i. 
 § 7. Jortin's Remarks on Eccles. Hist. vol. 
 i. p. 2—4. 
 
 5. It is very probable that Suetonius refers to 
 Christ, when he says, " That Claudius C:esar ex- 
 pelled all the Jews from Rome, on account of the 
 tumults which they raised, impulsore C/iristo," i. e. 
 probably, on account of Christ, whom it is certain 
 they often called C/irwf?w.— Compare Acts xviii. 2. 
 
 Sueton. Claud, c. xxv. No. xii. Pitisc. Not. 
 in Loc. vol. i. p. 689. Vand. de Orac. p. 
 604 — 607. Lardner's Crcd. vol. i. lib. i. c. ii. 
 § 3 ; Works, vol. i. p. 246, 247. vol. vii. p. 
 266, 267. Wits. Mehtem. de Vit. Paul, § 7. 
 No. ii. iii. Usher's Ann. Jul. Per. 4767. 
 Dodd. on Acts, ch. 18. ver. 2. 
 
 6. ^lius Lampridius assures us that the emperor 
 Alexander Severus entertained such high thoughts 
 of Christ, that he would have admitted him among 
 the number of his deities, and built a temple to him, 
 had not his Pagan subjects vigorously opposed it. 
 
 Spart. de Vit. Serv. c. xxix. and xliii. Lardn. 
 Heath. Testimonies, vol. ii. c. ii. § 4. vol. iii. 
 c. XXXV. ; Works, vol. vii. p. 364 — 367. 
 
 7. Porphyry also, though an inveterate enemy to 
 Christianity, not only allowed that there was such 
 a person as Christ, but honoured him as a most 
 wise and pious man, translated into Heaven, as 
 being approved by the Gods ; and accordingly 
 quotes some oracles, referring both to his sufl'erings 
 and virtues, with their subsequent rewards. 
 
 Euseh. Dem. Evang. lib. iii. p. 134. Lardner's 
 Heath. Test. vol. ii. c. xxxvii. § 10 ; Works, 
 vol. viii. p. 176—248. prtcsertim, p. 226 — 248. 
 
 8. Celsus likewise mentions numberless circum- 
 stances in the History of Ciirist, (indeed so many, 
 that an abstract of the Christian History might 
 almost be taken from the very fragments of his book 
 preserved by Origcn,) and never pretends to dispute 
 his real existence, or tiic truth of the facts. 
 
 Ancient Univ. Hist. vol. xv. p. 247. 8vo edit. 
 Lardner's Heath. Test. vol. iii. c. xviii. § 4, 
 6, 12, 13 ; Works, vol. viii. p. 5 — 69. pra- 
 sertim, p. 18 — 43, 57—69. 
 
 9. Hierocles also, under the fictitious name of 
 Philalethes, in a book which Eusebius has expressly 
 quoted and largely answered, speaks of .Jesus as 
 extolled by Ihe Christians as a God, for giving 
 sight to the blind, and doing some other wonders of 
 that kind ; and also speaks of Peter and Paul, as 
 crying him up in so extraordinary a manner ; tliough 
 he foolishly endeavours to show that Apollonius 
 w as equal and even superior to him ; — of which we 
 shall afterwards treat. 
 
 Euseb. Dem. Evang. p. 512. cont. Hier. sub 
 init. J^ardner, ib. vol. iii. c. xxxix. § 2, 4 ; 
 
 Works, vol. viii. p. 254—266. See Propo- 
 sition 113. Scholium 5. 
 10. It is a most notorious fact, that (so far as we 
 can learn) the enemies of Christianity never dis- 
 puted the existence of such a person as Christ, nor 
 his dying as his followers assert ; but, on the con- 
 trary, upbraided them with it as their greatest re- 
 proach ; the Jews calling him, in derision, i. e. 
 the crucified person, and his followers 'iSn nas ; 
 and many of the Heathens, particularly Lucian, 
 deriding him as a crucified impostor ; and Julian 
 himself, who was one of the most learned as well 
 as the most inveterate enemies against Christianity, 
 though he had himself been educated among the 
 Christians, and therefore probably knew this re- 
 ligion thoroughly, never goes about to dispute this 
 fact ; but owns, not only the being, but, as we shall 
 afterwards observe, the miracles, of Christ. 
 
 Buxt. Lcxic. Tal. in 'iSn. Lucian de Morte 
 Percy, ubi supra. Ditton on the Resurrec, 
 part iii. § 3, 8. Chapm. against Morg. vol. 1. 
 p. 364, 365. Ligktf. Hor. Heb. on Matthew 
 xii. 24. Lightfoot, apud Opera, vol. ii. p. 
 189. Josephi Antiq. lib. 18. c. iii. § 3. 
 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. 11. Valet propositio. 
 SCHOLIIM 1. 
 
 We do not here argue from that celebrated pas- 
 sage, in which Josephus bears such a remarkable 
 testimony to Christ. 
 
 Joseph. Antiq. lib. xviii. c. iv. § 33 ; c. iii. § 3, 
 p. 798, Hudson's edition. 
 
 It is most certain that it is to be found in all the 
 manuscript copies of Josephus, and that it was 
 very early quoted by the Christian fathers, particu- 
 larly Eusebius and Jerom. The two chief objections 
 are, 
 
 1. That neither Justin Martyr, Tcrtullian, Cyprian, 
 nor even Photius, in his extracts from Josephus, 
 have cited it ; but this negative argument against 
 fact is not much to be regarded, especially consider- 
 ing that Justin argues only out of Scripture, and 
 never mentions Josephus : tliat Tcrtullian, in his 
 controversial writings, deals cliielly with Gentiles: 
 that Cyprian does not professedly write in defence 
 of Christianity ; and that Photius's extracts from 
 Josephus are very imperfect. It is with more weight 
 obje(;tcd, 
 
 2. That the encomium upon the character and 
 miracles of Christ is so great, that Josephus must 
 have been a Christian, or he could not have written 
 as he did. To this Lambesius answers, That his 
 words are to be understood ironicallij, and really 
 contain a severe sarcasm ; and Mr. Whiston, that 
 Josephus was a Nazarene, Ebionite, or Jewish 
 Christian, afterwards bishop of Jerusalem ; but Mr. 
 Martin maintains that Josephus, being a pensioner 
 of the Roman court^ and seeing Domitian some- 
 
350 A COURSE C 
 
 thiiijf tilaimed with the propliccv of the Jewisli 
 Messiah, for his owu securitj' and that of liis 
 people, chose rather to represent the matter, as if 
 that Messiah had already appeared, but through the 
 mistake of their priests been rejeeted ; but none of 
 these things seem, upon the whole, a sullicient 
 aecount of it ; so tiiat if he really wrote it, he must 
 have been inwardly eonvineed of tiie truth of 
 Christianity ; and wantinj^ eourajie openly to pro- 
 fess it, left this testimony, perhaps in the last 
 eopies of his Antiquities, in some measure to quiet 
 his eonscicnee, for not having more generously and 
 faithfully pursued its dictates. 
 
 As for the other passages in Josephus, relating 
 to the death of .lames, the brother of Christ, Antiq. 
 lib. XX. c. viii. it is of much less importance in the 
 present question ; but what Origcn quotes as from 
 him, concerning the death of tiiat righteous man 
 being the cause of the destruction of the Jews, it is 
 nowhere to be found in Josephus, and seems to 
 liave been a slip of Origen's memory. — ^Vid. Huds. 
 I\otcs in Loc. p. 89G. 
 
 Jltif/ii. Prol. ad Jos. Ed. Col. pras. p. 25, &c. 
 
 Ditton on the Resurrcc. part iii. ^ 4 — 7. 
 
 Hmt. Don. Evanr). Prop. iii. § 11 — 18. p. 
 
 31 — 39. 3Iartin's Diss. pass. Whist. Jos. 
 
 Diss. i. and vi. Chapman against Mory. vol. 
 
 i. p. 386 — 389. Oriy. cont. Cels. lib. i. p. 35. 
 
 Eiiseb. Eccles. Hist. lib. ii. c. 23.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It may be asked, Why facts of so great import- 
 ance are not more frequently mentioned by ancient 
 historians, whether Jews or Heathens ? To this it is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That many books written in that age are lost ; 
 in which it is very possible some mention of these 
 facts might be made. 
 
 2. That of the few remaining historians, who 
 wrote about that age, most of them were by their 
 subject otherwise engaged. 
 
 3. That several of those facts relating to Christ 
 and his miracles, coming from the Jews, would be 
 slighted by the Gentile writers as fabulous, espe- 
 
 * Since these references were made, two English tracts have appeared 
 ill defence of the famous passage in Josephus. Tlio first is entitled, 
 A Dissertation upon the Account supi)ost'(i to liave been g:iven of Jesus 
 Ciirist by Joseplnis ; being an attempt to sliow that tliis celebrated 
 passa[;e, some sliglit corruptions only excepted, may reasonably be 
 esteemed genuine. Tliis performance was published, witiuiut a name, 
 at Oxford, in tlie year 174!* ; but is known to have been written by Dr. 
 Nathaniel Forster. The other tract is Mr. Jacob Bryant's Viudiciae 
 Flavianae ; or a Vindication of the Testimony given by Jo.sephus con. 
 ceriiing our Saviour Jesus Christ. Bolli these gentlemen nave dis. 
 
 flayed much ingenuity and learning. The accurate and penetrating 
 .rirdiier is on the opposite side of the question. He has fully con- 
 sidered the subject in his account of Joseplius, and in his fifrthcr obser- 
 %ati"iis, occasioned I>\' Dr. Forster's Dissertation. — See Lardntr's 
 Jewish and Heathen Testimonies, vol. i. c. iv, } 2. and the preface to 
 the second volume; Works, vol. vii. p. 120 — 1'23; ibid. p. 273— 28G. 
 The learned are divided in their opinions ; but the larger number, and 
 those wlio are esteemed the most judicious, believe the passage to he an 
 interpol.'ition. For the otlirr passage in Jose])hus, conceriiitig James 
 the brother of Christ, see also L.irdner, ibid. c. li. } .3; Works, vol. 
 vii. p. 129—1.33. Some curious observations coureriiing J(ise|>bus's 
 testimony to Christ, will be found in the Rev. Mr. Henley's Letter to 
 Dr. Kiiipis, published in the Appendix to Lardner's Life, No x. p. 
 clix— clxviii. 
 
 F LECTURES 
 
 cially considering, on the one hand, how conunon 
 prodigious and magical stories were, and, on the 
 other, how superstitious and credulous the Jews 
 were thought to be. 
 
 4. That the first appearance of the Christian 
 scheme would shock them, as seeming so improba- 
 ble, and so contrary to their received maxims, that 
 it is no wonder if many of tlicm cared 1)ut little to 
 iiKluire into evidences and facts relating to it. 
 
 5. Many of tiiose wlio did intjuirc, no doubt be- 
 came Christians ; and therefore their testimony is 
 not here reckoned. 
 
 G. The facts mentioned above, as recorded by 
 some, are such as on the whole it was most reason- 
 able to expect that they, continuing enemies, should 
 know, observe, and mention. 
 
 Addison on Christianity, c. i. § 2 — 6 ; c. ii. § I, 
 2. Jacks. Cred. vol. i. c. xi. xii. ap. Op. vol. 
 i. p. 38 — 44. Lardner's Jew. and Heath. Test. 
 vol. ii, c. xxii. ^ 3 ; Works, vol. viii. p. 
 94—97. 
 
 LECTURE CXIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION C. 
 The first publishers of Christianity wrote books 
 containing an account of the life and doctrine of 
 their Master : several of which bore the names of 
 those books vvliich now make the New Testament. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. The great importance, of which the primitive 
 Christians at least apprehended the facts and doc- 
 trines of their religion to be, (as appears by the 
 extremities they endured for their profession of it. — 
 Vid. Prop. 98. Schol. 1.) would engage them to take 
 the most elfectual care they could to transmit the 
 memory of it to future ages. 
 
 2. The age in which they lived was one of the 
 most learned ages of antiquity ; nor was there any, 
 in which books were more common in the countries 
 where they flourished. 
 
 1,2. 3. It is exceedingly probable, in tlie nature 
 of things, that there were some such ancient books 
 as the proposition asserts. 
 
 West on the Resm-rection, p. 308 — 318. 
 
 4. Writers of great antiquity do expressly mention 
 four books, written by the disciples of Christ, whom 
 they call Evanyelists ; and some of them do par- 
 ticularly name Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John as 
 the four. Jones on the Can. part iv. Introduction. 
 
 5. Eusebius, the most accurate historian among 
 the ancient Christian writers, mentions it as a fact 
 well known, and asserted particularly by Origen, a 
 still older writer, that the Four Gospels, of Matthew, 
 Mark, Luke, and John, the Epistles of St. Paul, one 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY, 
 
 351 
 
 of Peter, and one of John, were universally received 
 by the church ; and he calls them tvayyiXta avavnp- 
 ptjTa and oftoXoysiitva, as not heing able to find they 
 had ever been disputed ; and though the Acts are 
 not expressly mentioned in this catalogue by Ori- 
 gen, Euscbius himself, in the passage referred to in 
 the next step, declares that he hath no scruple con- 
 cerning it ; and it is certain, from many passages in 
 Origen's works still extant, that he paid the same 
 regard to the Acts as to any other book of the New 
 Testament : nay, in the close of the passage referred 
 to below, he also mentions them incidentally as 
 written by Luke. 
 
 Biscoe at Doyle's Led. vol. ii. p. 507 — 509. 
 
 Euseh. Eccles. History, lib. iii. c. xxiv. lib. 
 
 vi. c. XXV. Lardner's Creel, part ii. vol. iii. 
 
 p. 234—237. vol. viii. p. 90—96; Works, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 465 — 468. vol. iv. p. 224—228. 
 
 6. Though the other seven books of the New Tes- 
 tament, i. e. the epistle to the Hebrews, the epistle 
 to James, the 2nd of Peter, the 2nd and 3rd of 
 John, Jude, and the Revelations, were disputed, 
 (and therefore called by Eusebius airtXtyojutvoi,) yet 
 he tells us they were at length introduced into the 
 canon, i. e. into the number of those books which 
 Christians regarded as the rule of their faith and 
 manners, and which they distinguish from other 
 books, written by persons whom they thought less 
 eminently under the divine direction, whatevertheir 
 sanctity might be. 
 
 Eusch. Eccles. Hist. lib. iii. c. xxv. Jones on 
 the Can. vol. i. p. 23 — ^27. Jenk. ou Chris. 
 vol. ii. p. 116 — 118. Lardner's Cred. vol. 
 viii. p. 97 — 104 ; Works, vol. iv. p. 228 — 
 234. 
 
 7. We shall endeavour to show at large, in the 
 following proposition, that at least all the most im- 
 portant of those books were either expressly quoted 
 by name, or plainly alluded to by a scries of primi- 
 tive writers, several of them much more ancient 
 than Eusebius ; and indeed, that there is hardly 
 any writer of Christian anti<iuity who has not either 
 some express reference or allusion to some of them. 
 
 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. 8. Valet lu-opositio. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Whereas Mr. Toland, in his Amynfor, and several 
 other writers, have taken great pains to show that 
 there were nmny ancient books ; some of which nre 
 pretended to be still extant, but arc evidently 
 spurious, which yet are quoted by several writers of 
 the primitive church with great regard ; whence no 
 doubt he will lead his reader to infer, that little re- 
 gard is to be had to their opinion on this head ; we 
 shall not enter into the particulars here, but leave 
 the reader to judge, by those passages referred to by 
 Toland, compared with those enumerated below, as 
 to the different manner in which they mention con- 
 
 fessedly fictitious writers, and those of the New 
 Testament : but the fullest and best account of this 
 matter that I know of, is to be found in 
 
 Lardn. Cred. of Gosp. Hist. part. ii. vol. i. and 
 
 ii. pass; Works, vol. ii. p. 11 — 363. and in 
 
 Jones's Hist, of the Can. vol. i. and i\. 2>ass. 
 
 Toland's Amyntor, p. 28- — 68. Nye on the 
 
 Canon. 
 
 LECTURE CXIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION CI. 
 To take a more particular survey of what the 
 most considerable ancient ecclesiastical writers 
 have delivered concerning the several books of the 
 New Testament ; at the same time giving a cata- 
 logue of those of the three first centuries, in the 
 order in which they wrote. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Barnabas, contemporary with the Apostles, 
 who is mentioned in Acts iv. 36, 37 ; xi. 22 — 24 ; 
 xiii. 1 — 4 ; 1 Cor. xi. 6. is said to have written a 
 general epistle in Greek ; a Latin translation of 
 which is by many maintained to be extant ; though 
 I think the arguments against its authority are so 
 strong, as to leave little weight to any thing argued 
 from thence ; any further than that so far as we can 
 judge by the manner of the writing, it is indeed very 
 ancient. 
 
 Jones on the Can. part iii. c. 37 — 42. Lardn. 
 
 Cred. part ii. vol. i. p. 23 — 30 ; Works, vol. ii. 
 
 p. 10—15. Wake's Prelim. Dis. p. 69—72. 
 In this epistle several words of Christ are quoted, 
 which are recorded by the evangelists ; v. ij. Matt. 
 XX. 16 ; ix. 13 ; xxii. 43. Luke vi. 30. and many of 
 those scriptures quoted from the Old Testament in 
 the New, are likewise cited here. Many of the 
 phrases and arguments used by Paul in his epistle 
 to the Hebrews and elsewhere, are also inserted ; 
 V. g. 2 Tim. i. 10; iv. 1. but not in the form of 
 quotations, so that hardly any ancient work gives 
 less assistance in this inquiry. 
 
 I^ardner, ib. p. 31 — 48. pras. p. 45, &o. ; 
 
 irci)7(*, vol. ii. p. 15 — 22. Moshcim's Eccles. 
 
 Hist, secnlum i. § 53. Jortin's Remarks on 
 
 Eccles. Hist. p. 329—332. 
 
 2. Clemens Ilomanus, mentioned Phil. iv. 3. 
 who is said to have been one of the first bishops of 
 Rome, wrote an epistle to the Corinthians, probablj' 
 about the year 96. 
 
 Lard7i. ib. p. 51— CI ; Works, vol. ii. p. 22—28. 
 He quotes by name no book of tlie New Testa- 
 ment, excepting the Jirst epistle to the Corinthians ; 
 wliich by the way is one of the most important in 
 the whole volume for proving the truth of Chris- 
 
352 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 lianify, as will aftenvaids appear; and it is worth 
 our notice, tliat it is liere <iuoted by tliose who were 
 the best judfjes of its bcinj? genuine, and quoted as 
 of an authority acknowledged even by all the dif- 
 ferent parties anionp; tlieni : it is therefore not 
 improbable that the oriyinul might then be in their 
 hands. 
 
 Lardn. ibid. p. 61 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 29. 
 He evidently refers to some of Christ's words, 
 wliich are also recorded by Matthew, Mark, and 
 Luke ; but we cannot lay much stress upon those 
 passages, tt) establish the authority of lliesc books, 
 because Clement living so near the apostle's time, 
 might have learned them by oral tradition, and the 
 evaiu/elists are not named. Yet, on the other hand, 
 it may be remarked, that he does not introduce those 
 things as new, but refers to them as well known to 
 the Corinthians ; which we could hardly have been 
 so sure they were, unless they had some books 
 among them (commonly also received among other 
 Christians) in wliich those passages were inserted : 
 nor will Acts xx.3o. invalidate this observation, since 
 it does not appear tliat Clement had lived among 
 the Corinthians, as Paul had done with the elders 
 of Ephesus, and probably taught them those tradi- 
 tions with his own mouth. 
 
 Lard. ib. p. 65 — 68; Works, vol. ii. p. 29—31. 
 
 The following passages are transcribed with very 
 little variation : — Rom. i. 29 ; xii. 5. 1 Cor. x. 24 ; 
 xiii. 4, &e. Eph. iv. 4. Phil. i. 10. Col. i. 10. 
 1 Thess. V. 18. 1 Tim. v. 4. Tit. iii. 1. Heb. i. 3—5, 
 7—13 ; iv. 12 ; xi. 37 ; xii. 6. 1 Pet. iv. 8. He seems 
 also evidently to allude to the following passages : 
 — Rom. xiv. 1. 1 Cor. xii. 12; xv. 20. 2 Cor. iii. 
 18 ; viii. 5 ; xi. 24. 1 Tim. iii. 13. Heb. vi. 18. 
 James iii. 13. 2 Pet. ii. 5 ; iii. 4. 
 
 Lardn. iliid. c. ii. pras. p. 102 — 105; Works, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 34 — 47. 
 3. Hermas (mentioned Rom. xvi. 14.) is said to 
 have been the author of several books, under his 
 name: one is called his Pastor, in three parts ; the 
 first of visio7is, the second of commands, the third of 
 similitudes. We have only a Latin translation of it, 
 and a few fragments of the original. It is probably 
 an ancient book ; but strong objections are brought 
 against its being genuine. 
 
 Wake's Prelim. Disc. c. viii. p. 79 — 87. 3Io- 
 
 shcim's Hist. Ecclcs. p. 51. Sec. i. § 54' 
 
 Jortin's Rem. on Eccles. Hist. vol. i. p. 337, 
 
 338. 
 
 There are no express quotations of any book, 
 either of the Old or New Testament, by name, to be 
 found in him ; but there are many allusions to the 
 latter, of which the most considerable are the fol- 
 lowing passages: — Matt, v. 28; x. 32; xiii. 5, 7, 
 31; xviii. 3 ; xxviii. 18. Luke xvi. 18. John xiv. 6. 
 Acts V. 41. 1 Cor. iii. 16, 17. Eph. iv. 4, 30. Heb. 
 
 xii. 17. James i. 5; iv. 7, 12. 1 Pet. i. 6; v. 7. 
 1 John ii. 27. Jude, ver. 21. There are also many 
 visions resembling those of the Revelations ; but 
 no mention is made of that book. 
 
 Lardn. c. iv. pras. p. 144 — 146; Works, yo\. 
 ii. p. 50 — 65. Moskeim, vbi supra. 
 
 4. Ignatius, bishop of Antiocli, who was martyred 
 about the year 116, wrote several epistles, mention- 
 ed by Eusebius, IreniKus, Jerom, and many others: 
 tliey are still said to be extant ; but there are two 
 different copies of them. Mr. Whiston has con- 
 tended earnestly that the larger are genuine ; but 
 from comparing both, it appears much more pro- 
 bable that the larger are a paraphrase upon the 
 smaller, than the smaller (as some suppose) an 
 abridgment of the larger. 
 
 W/iist. Prim. Ckrist. vol. i. Jortin's Rem. vol. 
 i. p. 62—67, 363. 
 Nor is it at all probable that the epistles to Tar- 
 sus, Antioch, and Hiero arc genuine, since they are 
 not mentioned by Eusebius, who was so likely to 
 liavc discovered them, and would no doubt have 
 been glad to quote them. We shall, therefore, 
 only take notice of those quotations and allusions 
 which are to be found in the smaller epistles, and 
 which are as follow. He plainly quotes or alludes 
 to Matt. iii. 15 ; x. 16 ; xii. 33 ; xv. 13 ; xviii. 19 ; 
 xix. 12. John iii. 8; viii. 29; x. 9. Acts x. 41. 
 Rom. XV. 7. 1 Cor. i. 10 ; v. 7 ; vi. 9 ; xv. 8. Eph. 
 V. 2, 25. Phil. ii. 3. 1 Thess. v. 17. 2 Tim. ii. 4. 
 Philem. ver. 20. 1 Pet. v. 5. 
 
 Lardn. c. v. press, p. 188 — 190 ; Works, vol. ii. 
 p. 66 — 85. Jortin's Rem. vol. i. p. 54 — 61. 
 
 To which we may add, that he speaks of the 
 Gospel in such a connexion M'ith the Law and the 
 Propkets, as seems to imply that he meant a hook. 
 Lardn. ib. p. 180—184; Works, ib. p. 84, 85. 
 Seed's Serm. vol. ii. p. 294—299. 
 
 5. Polyearp, bishop of Smyrna, thought by some 
 to be the avgel of the church there, mentioned in 
 the Revelations, was martyred about the year 169. 
 Eusebius mentions a letter written by him to the 
 Philippians, which probably was that excellent 
 epistle bearing his name, which is now extant in a 
 Latin translation, and most of it in the Greek 
 original. In this epistle he quotes by name 1 Cor. 
 vi. 2. as the words of Paul, and also Eph. iv. 26. as 
 a sailing of Scripture, and also mentions Paul's 
 epistle to the Philippians with the highest respect, 
 as written by a wisdom which nothing could equal: 
 he likewise most evidently transcribes the follow- 
 ing passages :— Matt. v. 3, &c. vii. 1, 2; v. 44; 
 xxvi. 41. Acts ii. 24. Rom. xii. 9; xiv. 10. 1 Cor. 
 vi. 9. 2 Cor. iv. 5 ; vi. 7 ; viii. 21. Gal. iv. 26; vi. 
 7. Eph. ii. 8, 9. Philip, ii. 10, 16. 1 Thess. v. 17, 
 22. 2 Thess. iii. 15. 1 Tim. ii. 1, 2; vi. 7. 2 Tim. 
 ii. 11 ; iv. 10. 1 Pet. i. 8, 21 ; ii. 11, 12, 17, 22,24; 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 3p3 
 
 iii. 9; iv. 7 ; v. 5. 1 John iv. 3. Considering how 
 short this letter is, the transcribing so great a num- 
 ber of passages in it from the New Testament, is an 
 evident proof of the regard he paid to that book. 
 Lardn. ib. c. vi. pra-s. p. 202, 203. and 222, 
 223 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 86—100. 
 
 6. That epistle from the church of Smyrna, giving 
 an account of the martyrdom of Polycarp, evidently 
 refers to 1 Cor. ii. 9. and gives the title of Gospel 
 to the History of Christ written by the Evangelists. 
 Lardn. ib. c. vii ; Works, vol. ii. p. 100 — 105. 
 
 It may be observed, that the writings which have 
 been enumerated under these six first steps, are 
 those which are commonly called the works of the 
 Apostolic Fatkers, being published under that title 
 by Cotelerius, in a very celebrated edition of them, 
 and translated into English by Archbishop Wake, 
 whose account of them all it may be convenient to 
 peruse. 
 
 LECTURE CXV. 
 
 7. Papias, who is said to have been the com- 
 panion of John, and who flourished about the year 
 115, wrote five books (now lost) called an Explica- 
 tion of the Oracles of our Lord, in which Eusebius 
 says he often quoted our four Evangelists, and 
 mentions sjjllK remarkable particulars both relating 
 to the gospel of Matthew and Mark : Eusebius also 
 says, he brings testimonies out of the first of John, 
 and the first of Peter. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. ix ; Works, vol. ii. p. 106 — 115. 
 
 8. Justin Martyr wrote his tAvo Apologies, and his 
 Dialogue with Trypho the Jew. He died at the 
 latest about 163. The epistle to Diognetus, and 
 Questions to tke Ortkodo.v, though they do not seem 
 to belong to Justin Martyr, (among whose works 
 they are published,) are, however, undoubtedly 
 writings of great antiquity. 
 
 There are in his genuine works the following 
 quotations and allusions : — Matt. i. 20, 21 ; v. 28 — 
 32 ; xi. 27 ; xxv. 41. Mark viii. 31. Luke i. 31, 3.5, 
 38; X. 19. John i. 20; iii. 3; xiv. 24. He quotes 
 also the Memoirs of the Apostles, which he adds arc 
 called Gospels, as containing the institution of the 
 Eucharist, and Luke xx. 44. Matt. xxvi. .39. He 
 introduces Trypho the Jew, speaking of the precepts 
 delivered in the Gospel, as what he had read ; and 
 expressly declares, that the Written Commentaries, 
 or Memoirs of the Apostles, as well as of the Pro- 
 phets, were read publicly in all Christian a.ssemblies 
 for divine worship: which is a circumstance of vast 
 importance. 
 
 Just. Mart. Apol. % 87. Reeves's Apal. vol. i. 
 p. 114. 
 
 2 A 
 
 He either quotes or refers to Acts vii. 22 ; xiii. 27. 
 1 Cor. v. 7, &c. ; xi. 18, 19 ; xii. 8—10. Gal. iv. 12. 
 Eph. ii. 20. Col. i. 16. 2 Thess. ii. 3, 4. Heb. v. 9, 
 10. 2 Pet. iii. 8. Rev. xx. 4, &c. Luke xx. 3.5, 36. 
 Lardn. ib. c. x. pras. p. 286 — 288 ; Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 115 — 129. 
 
 9. The epistle to Diognetus, which Mr. Whiston 
 wildly thinks to have been written by the evange- 
 list Timothy, is certainly ancient, though it was not 
 written by Justin; and there are evident quotations 
 or allusions to the following passages: — Matt. vi. 
 25, &c. John i. 1 ; xvii. 14. Rom. v. 19. 1 Cor. iv. 
 12; viii. 1. 2 Cor. x. 3; iv. 8, &c. Phil. iii. 20. 
 1 Pet. ii. 24. iii. 18. 1 John iv. 19. And he also 
 speaks of the gospels and traditions of the apostles, 
 in such a connexion with the law and the prophets, 
 as seems plainly to intimate that he referred tc 
 books of that name. 
 
 Lardn. ib. p. 296, 297 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 129— 
 133. Jortin's Rem. vol. i. p. 342 — 348. 
 
 10. Dionysius of Corinth was a man of an excel- 
 lent character, who flourished about the year 170. 
 He wrote seven epistles, which are now lost ; but in 
 a fragment of one of them, preserved by Eusebius, 
 he mentions the conversion of Dionysius, the 
 Areopagite, by Paul, agreeably to the account given 
 in the Acts of the Apostles ; but it does not appear 
 that he speaks of that book. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xii. p. 300 ; Works, ib. p. 133—136. 
 
 11. Tatian, who flourished about the year 172, 
 wrote an elegant oration against the Greeks, which 
 is still extant ; and Eusebius (Eccles. Hist. lib. iv. 
 c. 29.) tells us, he wrote the Harmony of the Four 
 Gospels. In his oration, he quotes Luke vi. 25. 
 John i. 3, 5. 1 Cor. xv. 22. besides some other 
 passages, which Clement and Irenaeus say he quoted 
 from the epistles to the Corinthians and Galatians. 
 in a work now lost ; and Jcrom says he allowed 
 Paul's epistle to Titus. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xiii ; Works, ib. p. 136 — 140. 
 
 12. Hegesippus, a converted Jew, wrote the His- 
 tory of the Christian Church about the year 170, of 
 which only some fragments are remaining; in which 
 the following scriptures seem to be referred to : — 
 Matt. xxvi. 64. Luke xxiii. 34. Matt. xiii. 16. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xiv ; Works, ib. p. 140 — 145. 
 
 13. Melito, bishop of Sardis, in the year 170, wrote 
 an apology to Marcus Antoninus, and many other 
 books, particularly a commentary on the Revela- 
 tions : and as he expressly speaks of the Old Tes- 
 tament, he seems by that phrase to imply, that there 
 was in his time a collection of books, called the 
 New. 
 
 Lardn. ibid. c. xv. ; Works, ibid. p. 146 — 148. 
 
 14. There is an epistle of tlie churches of Vienne 
 and Lyons, preserved in Eus. Eccles. Hist. vol. iv. 
 and written about the year 177 ; in which there are 
 
354 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 very express qtintations from Luke i. 0. Joliii xvi. 
 •2. Acts vii. (iO. Mom. viii. 18. Eph. vi. 5. Phil. ii. 
 6. 1 Tim. iii. 15. 1 Pet. v. (5. 1 John iii. 16. Rev. 
 xiv. 4. Lnrdn. e. xvi ; Works, ibid. p. 184 — 153. 
 
 15. Ircnjvus, bishop of Lyons, wrote, about tlic 
 year 178, besides many other books, live of Heresy ; 
 whieh are yet preserved in the Latin translation, 
 and some fragments in the orifjinal Greek. In one 
 of tliese fraffuients preserved by Eusebius, as well 
 as in the translation, there is express mention of 
 the Four Gospels, under the names of their respec- 
 tive authors, and they are likewise mentioned 
 together. In two other passages of his works, he 
 professedly vindicates the genuineness of each, 
 and sets himself to give an account of the occasion 
 on which they were written. He often expressly 
 quotes the book of the Acts, and in many places 
 the epistles of Paul by name, and mentions all 
 which our New Testament ascribes to him, except- 
 ing that to Philemon. He has many passages in 
 sense parallel to several in the Hebrews, but he 
 does not expressly quote that epistle ; and Photius 
 says he did not allow it to be St. Paul's. He has 
 also passages in sense parallel to several of James, 
 but no express quotations. The first epistle of Peter 
 is quoted by him, and the first of John, and also 
 the second, though by a mistake he calls it t/ie same 
 with the former. Jude is not quoted, though it 
 would have been peculiarly proper to the occasion 
 of his writing ; but the book of the Revelations he 
 very frequently and largely quotes. 
 
 Lardn. ibid. c. •>i.\u. pras. p. 381, 382. and Ind. 
 ad Iren. ; Works, ibid. p. 153—180. 
 
 16. Athenagoras, who, before his conversion, was 
 a philosopher, between 1G6 and 178, wrote an 
 Apoloyy for Christianity, and quickly after a dis- 
 course on The Resurrection ; in which he expressly 
 quotes, or evidently alludes to, the following pas- 
 sages : — Matt. V. 28, 44, 45. Luke xvi. 18. John x. 
 30, 38. Acts xvii.2.5. Rom. i. 24, 27. 1 Cor. xv. 32, 
 54. 2 Cor. v. 10. Gal. iv. 9. 1 Tim. v. 1, 2; vi. 16. 
 He seems also to refer to James iii. 13 ; v. 7. 2 Pet. 
 i. 21. Rev. XX. 13. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xviii ; Works, ib. p. 180—187. 
 
 LECTURE CXVI. 
 
 17. Miltiades is supposed to have written, about 
 the year 170, an elegant Apology, which is now 
 lost. He is celebrated by Eusebius ( Eccles. Hist. 
 v. 17.) for his acquaintance with Scripture ; but no 
 fragments remain. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xix ; Works, ib. p. 188, 189. 
 
 18. Theophilus, bishop of Antioch, wrote three 
 books to Autolycus, yet extant, publislied about the 
 
 year 181. His book against Hermogenes, in which 
 Eusebius says he quoted the Revelations, is lost, as 
 also that against Marcion, and the Harmony of the 
 Evaiif/i lists, mentioned by Jerom, Ep. 151. but the 
 Commentary upon them, which goes under his 
 name, is spurious. In those of his genuine works 
 which remain, he quotes Matt. v. 28, 32, 44, 46 ; 
 vi. 3. Luke xviii. 27. John i. 1,3. Rom. ii. 6, &c. ; 
 xiii. 7, 8. 1 Cor. vi. 9—11. 2 Cor. xi. 19. Eph. ii. 
 2; iii. 10. Phil. i. 10; iii. 20; iv. 8. Col. i. 17. 
 
 1 Tim. ii. 1, 2. Tit. iii. 5. Hcb. xii. 9. 1 Pet. i. 18 ; 
 ii. 13. Some of these passages he mentions as 
 spoken by a divine word, and he seems to allude to 
 
 2 Pet. i. 20. Rev. xii. 19. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xx. prers. p. 447 — 449; Works, 
 ib. p. 190—202. 
 
 To this work is added, particularly in the Cologn 
 edition, a little tract of Hermias, called Irrisio 
 Gentium, which is written with great elegance and 
 spirit ; which begins with an express quotation of 
 1 Cor. iii. 19. as The words of the blessed apostle 
 Paul, in his epistle to the Corinthians. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xxv. p. 553, 554 ; Works, ib. p. 
 246, 247. 
 
 19. PantaRHus, once a philosopher of the Stoic 
 sect, was President of the Catechetical School of 
 Alexandria about the year 130, as Eusebius ( Hist. 
 V. 9, 10.) assures us : he wrote Commentaries on 
 Scripture, which are now entirely lost ; so that he 
 is capable of doing no service in the present ques- 
 tion, any further than as Jerom testifies, he brought 
 back the Gospel of Matthew, written in Hebrew, 
 from India, whither he was sent by Demetrius, his 
 bishop, to preach the gospel. 
 
 Lardn. ib. e. xxi ; Works, ib. p. 202 — 205. 
 
 20. Clemens Alexandrinus succeeded Pantajnus ; 
 and wrote about the end of the second and begin- 
 ning of the tliird century. His remaining works 
 are his Pcedagoyue and Stromata, his Admonition to 
 the Gentiles, and a homily of The Salvation of the 
 Rich. He is mentioned with great honour by the 
 most valuable ancient writers that succeeded him : 
 Eusebius tells us, That he speaks of Mark's Gospel, 
 as written from the account of things he had re- 
 ceived from Peter, and in effect at least authorized 
 by that apostle. {Eccles. Hist. ii. 15.) He also 
 speaks of the E|)istle to the Hebrews, as written in 
 Hebrew by Paul, but translated by Luke. Ib. vi. 14. 
 
 Lard. ib. c. xxii. p. 468 — 473 ; Works, ib. p, 
 210—212. 
 
 He expressly mentions the Four Gospels of our 
 Evangelists, the Acts, the Epistles to the Romans, 
 Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, first 
 and second to the Thessalonians and Corinthians, 
 first and second to Timothy, Titus, Hebrews, the 
 first of Peter, and the first of John, by the name of 
 his Laryer Epistle, and Jude and the Revelations; 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 355 
 
 but does not expressly mention James nor the second 
 of Peter. We refer not to particular passages, there 
 
 j being great numbers of them from tlie several books 
 above mentioned. It is true that he also quotes 
 several apocryphal pieces ; such as the Gospel ac- 
 cording to the Hebrews and the Egyptians, the 
 
 I Preaching of Peter, the Shepherd of Hermas ; but 
 not with titles of equal regard, nor in such a man- 
 ner as to seem to lay any stress upon them. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xxii. p. 494 — 515; and Index to 
 Clem. Alex. ; Works, ib. p. 206—243. 
 
 21. Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, about the close 
 of this century, in an epistle of his, of which Jeroni 
 has preserved some fragments, refers to Matt. xix. 
 12. John xxi. 20. Acts v. 29. and speaks of the 
 Scripture as the rule of faith. 
 
 Lardn. ib. c. xxiii. ; Works, ib. 243 — 245. 
 
 22. Tertullian, presbyter of Carthage, was con- 
 temporary with Clemens Alexandrinus, and sur- 
 vived him:' his works are known and numerous. 
 In them he expressly quotes all the books of the 
 New Testament but James, the second of Peter, the 
 third of John : Hebrews he supposed to have been 
 written by Barnabas. It is remarkable that there 
 are more quotations from the New Testament in 
 him, than from all the writings of Tully, in all the 
 ancient books in the world. The same may be said 
 of those of Irenaeus and Clemens Alexandrinus. 
 
 i Lardn. ib. c. xxvii. ; Works, ib. p. 150 — 287. 
 23. Dr. Lardnerhas also mentioned a great many 
 other Christian writers, of whose works only frag- 
 ments are preserved, which serve to illustrate the 
 present question, of which we shall not give so par- 
 ticular an account. The chief of them are Serapion, 
 who speaks with great reverence of our Gospels, 
 rejecting that of Peter (ib. c. xxvi.) ; Quadratus, 
 Aristides, Claudius Apollinaris, and Symmachus, 
 (ib. c. xxviii. pass.) Besides these, he also men- 
 tions several supposititious writings, forged in the 
 second century ; such as the Acts of Paul and 
 Thecla, the Sibylline Verses, the Testament of the 
 Twelve Patriarchs, the Recognitions, Homily and 
 Epitome of Clement ; but they bring little light to 
 the present question ; which is not to be wondered 
 at, considering that most of them pretend to be 
 written before the books of the New Testament : 
 but it is observed, That in the three last of these 
 there are several references to facts recorded in the 
 Evangelists ; and that phrases used especially in 
 Paul's writings are introduced in these pieces. 
 ; 24. The third century produced many famous 
 I Christian writers ; v. ij. Minutius Felix, Origen, 
 Cyprian, and Arnobius ; most of whose works 
 abound with a va.st many quotations from all the 
 uncontro verted books of the New Testament, espe- 
 cially Novation on the Trinity ; and it would be 
 almost an endless task to enumerate them all ; 
 2 A 2 
 
 much less is it necessary to enter into the particu- 
 lars of those quotations, brought from Lactantius, 
 Athanasius, Eusebius, Optatus, Basil, Ephraim 
 Syrus, Gregory Nyss, and Nazianzen, Ambrose, 
 Cyril of Jerusalem, Chrysostom, Hilary, Jerom, 
 Augustin, and other authors of less note, who 
 flourished in the fourth century, — of whom see 
 
 Spank. Eccles. Hist. Sac. iii. § 10 ; Scec. iv. § 
 
 12. Lard, part ii. vol. iii. pass. ; Works, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 247—249 ; ibid. p. 287—310 ; ibid. 
 
 p. 310—363 ; ibid. p. 364, to the end of the 
 
 volume.* 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence we may easily collect and compare the 
 evidence which there is of each particular book of 
 the N ew Testament, to prove it genuine. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Hence we may see great reason to believe what 
 is asserted in Prop. 100. at least concerning the 
 books which are called dfioXoyovfitvoi. Vid. ibid, 
 (jr. 7. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 Hence it appears that the evidence of those 
 books, which are called avTiKiyoy.tvoi, is compara- 
 tively very small, so far as it depends upon the 
 fathers of the two first centuries, especially with 
 regard to James, the second of Peter, and Jude. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Mr. Dodwell was grossly mistaken in asserting, 
 That the books of the New Testament lay con- 
 cealed till the year 130 ; and that there was nothing 
 settled concerning the canon till the fourth century. 
 Dodtv. Dissert, on Iren. p. 65 — 73. Jenk. on 
 Christian, vol. ii. c. iv. p. 118 — 128. Lard. 
 Cred. vol. xii. p. 21—86, 90—126 ; Works, 
 vol. v. p. 352—398. Mackniyht's Truth of 
 the Gospel Hist, book iii. c. i. § 1, 2, 3. 
 
 LECTURE CXVTI. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It may not be improper here to add, That Ame- 
 lius, the Platonic philosopher, in the third century, 
 mentions the writings of John, — and Dionysius 
 Longinus, a. d. 250, those of Paul, with consider- 
 able applause. 
 
 Huet. Dcm. Ev. Prop. i. 5) 6. p. 21. b. Euseh. 
 
 * Though Dr. Doddridge has judged it suOicicnt for tlic purpose of 
 liis Lectures to stop here, it may uot he improper to remind tlie theo- 
 logical student, that lie will hereafter find his full account in roadiiifc 
 and studying the whole of Dr. I.ardncr's Crcdihilily of the Gospel 
 History, which carries on the suhject down to Ihe hi ginning of the 
 fourteenth century, and contains a great variety of important critical 
 information. Should a student, tlfom the iiumlier and rapidity of his 
 .academical employments, not have leisure to read the whole of the pre- 
 ceding references, (some of which are long,) it is earnestly re*|UeNted 
 that he will not fail in an immediate pcrukal of the admirable recapitu- 
 lation of the evitlencc, given in the twelfth volume of the Credibility, 
 and ill the Doctor's Works, vol. v. p. 341, to the end. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Prap. El lin. 1. xi. c. xix. Smith's Lift- of 
 Lonyinus, p. 23, '24. Ltirdncr's Test. vol. iii. 
 c xxxiii. and xxxiv. ; Works, vol. iii. p. 
 160—168. 
 
 And it is yet of greater importance to observe, 
 That Celsus, who seems to have lived in the seeond 
 eentury. and perhaps not laler tha!» the middle of 
 it, ( Ori(/. ai/ainsl Cilsiis, 1. i. p. 3 and H.) not only 
 brinf^s a g,Teat many citations from the New Testa- 
 ment, but founds the main stress of his argument 
 against Christianity upon the supposed absurdity of 
 that book ; which is an illustrious testimony, not 
 only to its antiquity, but to its high esteem among 
 Christians in that early age. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It may be added here, That some have thought 
 Luke X. 7. is expressly quoted by Paul (1 Tim. 
 V. 18.) ; and it is observable, that if it be so, then it 
 is put upon a footing of equal authority with Deut. 
 XXV. 4. quoted in the same passage. 
 
 Seed's Sermons, vol. ii. p. 292. Mackrtight's 
 Truth of the Gosp. Hist. p. 391. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Some may perhaps wonder that (considering how 
 much Christianity prevailed, and in how great 
 esteem the writers of the New Testament are sup- 
 posed to have been in those early ages) there should 
 have been no more quotations from them within the 
 first 150 years. It may be answered, 
 
 1. That as most of the first Christians were per- 
 sons of a low station in life (1 Cor. i. 26 — 28. 
 James ii. 6.) the number of early Christian writers 
 was small, and of those who did write, many of 
 their works are Jost, as evidently appears from 
 Eusebius, Photius, and many more, who have given 
 us some of their names and some account of them, 
 and in part from several steps in the preceding 
 proposition. 
 
 2. That several of the remaining pieces are but 
 short. 
 
 3. That the subject of many of these was such, 
 as to give little opportunity of quoting the writings 
 of the New Testament ; very few of them relating 
 to any controversy of Christians with each other, 
 and in their controversies with the Heathens, it is 
 observed that they are employed more in demon- 
 strating the falsehood of Paganism than the truth 
 of Christianity, as that was the point most necessary 
 to be laboured, considering the sociahility of the 
 Heathen superstitions. 
 
 4. Several of the writers whom we have mention- 
 ed were so early, that it is exceedingly probable 
 they had not an opportunity of seeing some of the 
 epistles ; w^hich could not circulate in the world so 
 soon as papers now do by the assistance of printing. 
 
 5. Tho.se books not being then divided into chap- 
 ters and venses as now, quotations from them were 
 
 not altogether so easy ; not to say that, considering 
 to what extraordinary divine assistances many of 
 the primitive Christians pretended, they might not 
 seem to have so much need of a w ritten rule ; so 
 that, on the whole, it is wonderful tliat we can 
 trace so great evidence in such circumstances. 
 
 Warb. Div. Ley. vol. i. 1. ii. § 6. p. 266 — 284; 
 
 edit. 2. p. 278— 295 ; edit. 4. vol. i. part ii. 
 
 p. 36 — 56. Mackniyht' s Gospel History, p. 
 
 408, 409. 
 
 PROPOSITION ClI. 
 To inquire more particularly into the evidence 
 there is that tlic ancient Christians had books 
 among them, which went by the name of those 
 which Eusebius calls avTiXeyofjuvoi. Vid. Prop. 100. 
 r/r. 6. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. With regard to the Epistle to the Hebrews, 
 many parallel thoughts and phrases are to be found 
 in Clemens Romanus, Justin Martyr, and Irenseus. 
 Clemens Alexandrinus quotes it as the words of 
 the divine apostle, and elsewhere of Paul. Origen 
 frequently speaks of it as Paul's ; and Eusebius 
 mentions it as received with great pleasure by the 
 Hebrews, who were the most capable of judging 
 whether it were genuine or not. 
 
 Lardn. C'red. part ii. vol. i. p. 87 — 95, 368 — 
 373; vol. ii. p. 470-^72,501,502; vol. iii. 
 p. 234—238, 2-18—261 ; Works, vol. ii. p. 
 39—43, 211, 212, 224, 467, 472—478. Whit- 
 by's Comment, on Heb. Pref. New Transl. 
 of New Test. p. 838—840. Twells's Exam. 
 part ii. c. ii. ^ 1 . Lardner's Supplement, vol. 
 ii. c. xii. § 3, 4 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 391 — 415. 
 Hallet on the Heb. Introd. § 1. Sykes on 
 ditto. Introduction, passim. 
 
 2. As for James, passages at least parallel to it 
 are to be found in Clemens Romanus, Irenaeus, and 
 Athenagoras, and it is acknowledged by Origen, 
 Eusebius, and Jerom, though the last tells us it was 
 long doubted in the Latin church. 
 
 Whitby Comment, on Jam. Pref. Lardn. ib. 
 in nom. Clem. Ignat. SfC. New Translation, 
 p. 873 — 875. Twells, ib. § 2. Lardner's 
 Suppl. vol. iii. c. xvii. ; Works, vol. vi. p. 
 502—509. 
 
 2. The Seeond of Peter seems to be quoted by 
 Justin Martyr, and is ascribed to Peter by Origen 
 and Clemens Alexandrinus. 
 
 Whitby on 2 Pet. Pref. New Trans, p. 903, 
 904. Twells, ib. § 2. Benson on the Second 
 of Peter, p. 1 — 9. Lard. Suppl. vol. iii. c. 
 xix. § 1 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 563 — 566. 
 4. The second epistle of John is quoted by Ire- 
 naeus, and by the Council of Carthage in the year 
 256. Clemens Alexandrinus speaks by way of dis- 
 tinction of the larger epistle. Origen likewise 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 357 
 
 mentions the second and third epistles^ though 
 something dubiously ; and Epiphanius has some 
 reference to them, speaking in the plural number 
 of John's epistles. 
 
 Whit, in Loc. Benson on the Epistles of John, 
 p. 177, 178. Lardner's Suppl. vol. iii. ^ 4, 
 5, 6 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 593—607. 
 
 5. Jude is expressly quoted by Origen, TertuUian, 
 and Cyprian ; but by no earlier writers. 
 
 Whit, on Jude, ver. 1. New Transl. p. 943. 
 Twells, ib. § 4. Benson on Jude, p. 114. 
 Lardn. Suppl. vol. iii. § 21 ; Works, vol. vi. 
 p. 607—627. 
 
 6. Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Cle- 
 mens Alexandrinus, allow the Revelations to have 
 been an ancient book, and ascribe it to John the 
 apostle ; and if we may believe the testimonies of 
 Eusebius and Jerom, who had in their hands the 
 writings of many of the ancients which are now lost, 
 Papias, Melito, Theophilus of Antioch, and Apol- 
 lonius, all in the second century, received and 
 quoted it ; and it appears to have been allowed by 
 Origen, Cyprian, Victorius, Methodius, and Pam- 
 philus, besides Hypolitus, earlier than anj' of them 
 in the third ; though it is certain some rejected it, 
 as the work of an unknown and heretical writer. 
 
 New Transl. p. 1019—1022. Mills's Proleg. 
 ad Nov. Testament, p. 24 — 28. Twell's Ex. 
 part iii. pass, press, part i. c. i. § 2. c. ii. p. 11 
 — 15. Republic of Letters, vol. vii, art. 9.* 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It evidently appears, from comparing this de- 
 monstration with that of Prop. 101. that the evi- 
 dence of the genuineness of the six former of these 
 books is not equal to that of the rest ; nor are they 
 all equal to each other in this respect. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Nevertheless, it seems more reasonable to admit 
 than to reject them, if we consider, 
 
 1. That several of these epistles, not being written 
 as most of Paul's were, either to particular churches, 
 or even particular persons, whose names and abodes 
 are recorded in them, it could not be so easy to 
 find out the originals. 
 
 2. That some of them are so short, and the con- 
 tents of them so general, that there was ( cat. par.) 
 less reason to expect quotations from them. 
 
 3. As they were more inquired into, they came 
 to be generally received ; and at last all opposition 
 against them ceased. To which we may add, 
 
 4. That the accomplishment of many remarkable 
 prophecies in the Revelations, especially those re- 
 lating to the Roman and Papal empire, in propor- 
 
 * M. Abau/it, a learned gentleman of Cicncva, liiit a Frenclimati l)y 
 birth, ill a discourse on the Apncalypso, hath strongly denied the 
 authenticity ol' the book. See his Miscellanies on liistDrical, theolo- 
 gical, and critical Subjects, translated Ijy Dr. Harwood, in 1774, p. 
 283—376 On the other side of the ((uestion is Lardner, Sunpl. vol. iii. 
 c. xxii.; Works, vol. vi. p. 627—638. 
 
 tion to the degree in which it appears, must, to 
 those that see it, be one of the strongest demon- 
 strations that can be imagined, not only that the 
 book itself was genuine, but that it was written by 
 some extraordinary assistance and illumination from 
 God ; and when this is granted, and the external 
 evidence considered, and couipaicd with that of 
 the rest of these seven pieces, it will further prove 
 that a book not more frequently quoted by the earli- 
 est writers than this, may yet be both genuine and 
 divine. 
 
 Blackhall at Boyle's Lect. Serm. iii. p. 9 — 12. 
 Jenk. of Christian, vol. ii. p. 106 — IIG. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Whatever be thought of the preceding arguments, 
 it is to be remembered, that the agreement betvveen 
 these books and others of the New Testament is so 
 great, that we need not be very solicitous about 
 them ; nor, if the others should hereafter be proved 
 to be of Divine authority, need we be apprehensive 
 of any dangerous consequences attending our re- 
 ferring to them in public discourses. This is es- 
 pecially observable with regard to those whose 
 external evidence is the weakest ; in which num- 
 ber the second and third of John and Jude are to be 
 reckoned. 
 
 Post, against Tind. p. 143 — 147. Sherlock on 
 Proph. Dissert, i. p. 199, &c. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 V.'ith relation to the books mentioned by Toland 
 in his Amyntor, (compare Prop. 100. Schol.) such as 
 the Acts of Paul ; the Revelation of Peter ; the 
 Gospel of Peter, Andrew, and Matthias ; the Acts 
 of Peter and Jojin, &c. it is evident that Eusebius, 
 in the place before quoted, ( Eccles. Hist. lib. iii. 
 ^ 25. p. 119.) mentions these as voOoi ; which (thougli 
 Dr. Twells maintains the contrary) is plainly dif- 
 ferent from the avTt\tyofitvoi as well as the o/io\oya- 
 fitvoi ; and it will appear, as was hinted above, that 
 even when they are quoted, which they seldom are, 
 by ancient writers, it is in such a language as plainly 
 to show that the regard to them was far inferior to 
 that which they had for the sacred books ; and it 
 is further remarkable, that though Cclsus has, one 
 where or another, given us a kind of abridgment of 
 the history of the evangelists, (see Prop. 101. Schol. 
 l.)yet he has hardly, if ever at all, mentioned a 
 single fact recorded in any of those pieces, though 
 many of them would have aflorded matter for much 
 more plausible objections than those which he en- 
 deavours to ground upon the facts recorded by the 
 evangelists (compare Evang. Infant, ap. Fabric. 
 Cod. Apocriphus, vol. ii. p. 16.3—165, 182— 1H5.); 
 which makes it probable that he was not ac-qiiainted 
 with those pieces ; for his candour was not so great 
 as to have waved any opportunity of aspersing 
 Christianity ; and it is highly probable several of 
 
358 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 tliosc forgerios were later tlian his time. Wc may 
 also adtl, that Tertullian tells us (dr Baptis. v.. xvii.) 
 that John the apostle diseovercd the Acts of Paul 
 and Tlieela to have been forged by a presbyter, and 
 degraded the author on that account ; which, if 
 true, is a very remarkable eireunistance. 
 
 Seed's Sennon.i, vol. ii. p. 209 — 311. 
 
 LECTURE CXVIII. 
 PROPOSITION cm. 
 
 The New Testament, as we now have it in the 
 original, is ffenuine ; i. e. it is in the main such as it 
 came out of the hands of those l)y wliom the several 
 pieces contained in it are said to have been written. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 100. 1. The primitive Christians had 
 books among them said to have been written by 
 tliose authors whose names are prefixed to those 
 of our New Testament. 
 
 2. The i)rimifive Cliristians had r.s good oppor- 
 tunities of satisfying themselves as to the genuine- 
 ness of thein, as other ancients had with regard to 
 the genuineness of their books ; especially consider- 
 ing that several of those epistles were written to 
 numerous societies of men, or to persons of a very 
 public and sacred character; and those of Paul, if 
 not written by his own hand, were siyned by him, to 
 prevent, as far as could be, the very possibility of 
 imposture, 1 Cor. xvi. 21. 2 Thess. iii. 17. comp. 
 Rom. xvi. 22. Gal. vi. H. 
 
 3. The great concern which Christians had in 
 tliese books, and the high value which they set upon 
 them, (as appears in part already, and will hereafter 
 more fully appear,) would no doubt engage them to 
 be very careful and accurate in this inquiry. 
 
 Lardn. Cred. vol. i. p. 384, 385. vol. iii. p. 282 
 —289. vol. viii. p. 197—203 ; Worlts, vol. ii. 
 p. 172, 173. ib. p. 488, 492. vol. iv. p. 272— 
 274. 
 
 4. We find there were many books, going under 
 the name of the apostles, which were rejected by 
 tlie primitive Christians ; and that a vast difference 
 was made between those of the New Testament, and 
 other books allowed to have been written by persons 
 of great eminence in the church. — Vid. Prop. 100. 
 Schol. and Prop. 102. Schol. 2. 
 
 Lardn. ib. vol. viii. p. 10.5 — 124 ; Works, vol. iv. 
 p. 231—240. Bluckhall at Boyle's Lectures, 
 Sermon iii. p. 12, 13. 
 
 5. We do not find that either the Jews or the 
 Heathens, with whom tlie Christian apologists were 
 engaged, disputed the genuineness of these records ; 
 nay, Julian the apostate, who was so well acquainted 
 
 witli lliein, and afterwards proved so inveterate an 
 enemy to ('hristianity, does in some of his writings 
 allow them to be genuine ; as wc before observed 
 that Celsus doth earlier, especially the Evangelists. 
 See Prop. 101. Schol. 1. 
 
 Macknif/lit's Truth of the Gospel Hist, book ii, 
 
 c. iv. p. 312 — 3f3. West on the Pesitrrec. 
 
 p. 319 — 331. Lcland's View, vol. ii. p. 
 
 335—337. 
 
 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. 6. There is great reason to 
 believe that the books of the same title with those 
 of our New Testament, which were in the hands of 
 the i)rimitive Christians, i. e. those of the two first 
 centuries, were genuine. 
 
 7. Considering the zeal which the primitive 
 Christians expressed for the New Testament, and 
 the sufl'criiigs which they were ready to undergo 
 rather than they would deliver it up, as the tradi- 
 torcs under the Dioclcsian persecution did, we can 
 hardly imagine that, if it had been in their power, 
 tlicy would willingly have corrupted it in any 
 important instances ; which would indeed have been 
 introducing another religion, different from that for 
 whicli they suffered such dreadful extremities. 
 
 Suic. Thesaur. vol. i. p. 800. Lardn. ib. vol. 
 vii. lib. i. c. 66. p. 210—217 ; Works, vol. iv. 
 p. 88—91. 
 
 8. If they had been ever so desirous of corrupting 
 the New Testament, neither they, nor any in suc- 
 ceeding ages, could have effected such a design ; 
 considering how long tlie originals were preserved, 
 how soon they were transcribed, and translated into 
 various languages, how publicly they were read in 
 their religious assemblies, so that wherever there 
 was a Christian church, there must have been a 
 copy, by which any that attended might examine 
 and correct their own (vid. Prop. \00.(/r. 8.) ; con- 
 sidering also how widely they were dispersed in a 
 very few years after they were written ; and what 
 a variety of sects arose very early among Christians, 
 who were all a guard upon each other, to prevent 
 any material alteration in the books which they 
 professed to make the rule of their faith, and from 
 which each pretended to defend his own opinions. 
 
 Ki/iy of the Prim. Church, part ii. c. i. § 2. 
 Tcrlnll. de Preesc. c. 36. Advers. Marcion, 
 ap. Biscoe at Boyle's Led. p. 491 — 493. 
 Lardn. ib. vol. iii. p. 289—293, 300—304; 
 Works, vol. ii. p. 491—493, •:95— 497. 
 
 9. There are numerous quotations from the New 
 Testament in Christian wi iters of all the latter ages, 
 and even from the beginning of the third century ; 
 insomuch that if the liooks were to be lost, by far 
 the greater part of them miglit be recovered from 
 such quotations, and from the homilies and com- 
 mentaries written upon several parts of it ; and all 
 these do in the main agree with our present copies. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 359 
 
 in sense at least, if not in words. — Compare Prop. 
 101. t/r. 22. 
 
 7, 8, 9. 10. The New Testament, as we now have 
 it in the original, is in tlie main agreeable to what 
 it was in the first ages of Christianity. 
 
 6, 10. 11. The New Testament, as we have it in 
 the original, is genuine. Q. E. D. 
 
 Limhorch' s Co/latio, p. 46. Script, iii. Judai 
 Qufcst. iv. No. viii. p. 144 — 148. Baxter's 
 Works, vol. ii. p. 119, b, 120, a. Reasons of 
 Rel. part ii. c. vii. § 68 — 94. Dittoii on the 
 Resurrec. part iii. § 10 — 17. Bennet on 
 Script, p. 302 — 306. Fast, ar/ainst Tindal, 
 p. 95—105, 161. Wets. New Test. Pref. p. 
 77 — 81. Benson's Reus, of Christianity, p. 
 63—75. Machniyht's Truth of the Gosp. 
 Hist, book iii. c. iii. p. 478 — -488. Jortin's 
 Rem. on Ecclesiastical Hist. vol. i. p. 41 — 45. 
 Leland, uhi supra. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence it appears, that the evidence we have of the 
 genuineness of the writings of the New Testament, 
 is abundantly greater than for that of any other 
 book of equal antiquity ; as may be seen by com- 
 paring the preceding argument with what could be 
 said in proof of those writings which go under the 
 names of Virgil, Tully, Cajsar, Suetonius, &c. 
 
 Blachhall at Boyle's Lect. Serm. iii. p. 6 — 8. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 From comparing the several steps of the preced- 
 ing demonstration, particularly <jr. 3, 7, 8. it will 
 appear that where the possibility of corrupting the 
 books of the New Testament (if it had been desired) 
 was greatest, i. e. in the time immediately following 
 their being written, we have the strongest evidence 
 of an aversion to do it ; considering the known zeal 
 and piety of the first professors and confessors of 
 Christianity, and that as the character of Christians 
 grew worse, the impossibility of changing these 
 beoks increased ; and it may not be unworthy of 
 further remark, that with respect to those epistles, 
 which ))eing written to particular persons, might 
 have been most easily altered, we have peculiar 
 evidence that they were not; partly from the dis- 
 tinguishing piety of those persons, i. e. Timothy and 
 Titus ; and partly from the tenor of those epistles 
 as they now appear, which is the very contrary to 
 wliat dishonest, ambitious, and interested men, who 
 alone would have been likely to have attempted a 
 corruption, would have desired it should have been. 
 
 LECTURE CXIX. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 If it be objected to yr. 7. 8. That the fathcis ac- 
 cused the Heretics of corrupting the Scripture, and 
 
 that it is possible that all the copies or versions now 
 extant might be thus corrupted by them, — to this 
 we answer, 
 
 1. The corruption of Scripture, to which they 
 refer, was either by false interpretations, or at most 
 by the alteration of a few particular passages. 
 
 2. The agreement between the doctrines of the 
 fathers in some of those points, and the Scriptures 
 as now extant, shows that we have not corrupt 
 copies of those passages. 
 
 3. We may conclude from the reasons urged 
 above, that if the Heretics made any such attempts, 
 they must have been unsuccessful ; and the protest 
 of the fathers against them shows it. 
 
 4. The copies now extant came from such differ- 
 ent parts ; and many of the translations, especially 
 the Syriac, Ethiopic, and Vulgate, were so ancient, 
 that the hypothesis proposed in the objection is 
 utterly incredible. — To which we add, that the 
 fathers, who have several of them quoted the same 
 passages of Scripture, lived in very distant coun- 
 tries, at or near the same time ; v. g. Justin Martyr 
 and many others in Asia, Irena^us in France, Cle- 
 mens at Alexandria, Cyprian at Carthage, some of 
 his correspondents at Rome, &c. at all which places 
 Christian churches were founded, long before the 
 time in which these authors respectively lived ; yet 
 these authors never in the least intimate any disap- 
 probation of those anciently received copies, which 
 greatly confirms the evidence drawn from this view 
 of them ; and whoever considers the alarm taken at 
 the attempt of Pope Celestine I. about the year 425, 
 to impose a forged canon, as established by the 
 Council of Nice, upon the African bishops, whereas 
 it was only a canon of the Council of Sardica, will 
 be yet more sensible of the force of this argument. 
 
 Bower's Hist, of the Popes, vol. i. p. 370, &c. 
 Wetst. Prol. in New Test, k 2. p. 29-48. 
 l2mo. edit. Post, ayainst Tind. p. 149 — 165. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 2. 
 
 Nearly akin to this is that objection taken from 
 the passages in Victor's Chronicon, in which it is 
 said, " That when Messala was consul, at the com- 
 mand of the emperor Anastasius, the holy Gospels, 
 as \.rittcn by Idiotis Evangclistis, were corrected 
 and amended ;" which seems only to refer to the 
 correcting a few copies at Constantinople, which 
 were falsified by Macedonius, and were now restor- 
 ed to what the plain evangelists wrote. It is certain 
 no thought could be wilder than a universal cor- 
 ruption of all the copies of the New Testament at 
 such an age, (a. D. 500,) and among so many diver- 
 sities of opinions, as well as in the vast tract of 
 land, where Anastasius had not the least power. 
 Collins on Freethinh. p. 89, 90, edit. 2 ; edit. 1, 
 p. 72, 73. Bcntley Rem. part i. § 33. p. 77— 
 84. Sir Isaac Newton's 2d Letter to Le Clerc, 
 or rather to Mr. Locke, p. 1 16. 
 
360 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Many liavo objected the various readings, which 
 Dr. Mills I (ikons to be more than 30,000: but it 
 may he rt'i)liiHl, 
 
 1. That considering: the bulk of the book, the vast 
 number of copies wliidi Iiave l)ecn compared, the 
 iijnorance of many transcri))crs, and the nicety with 
 which the least variations have l)een observed ; 
 and especially eonsiderin'? how many versions and 
 quotations Dr. Mills brings into the account, we are 
 rather to wonder there are no more ; since in the few 
 copies of Terence which have been compared, 
 almost as many various readings have been found. 
 
 2. There are but very few of these various 
 numerous readings, which at all affect the sense, at 
 least in any important article, as appears by ex- 
 amining not only those of Mills, but those of 
 Wetstein, which are by far the most significant of 
 them. 
 
 3. That when copies come to be compared, there 
 is often so great a number on one side against those 
 of the other, that it is easy to settle the true reading, 
 and to sec what it was that led the transcriber into 
 a mistake ; and tliis is generally the case where 
 the variation from the received reading is the 
 greatest. 
 
 Canones Critici ap. Wets. p. 11 — 16. and Pre/. 
 p. 77, 78. Collins, ibid. p. 87—90. Bent. 
 Rem. part i. p. 60—68, 74—84. Ditton on 
 the Res. part iii. § 18, 19.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is objected. That it is improbable that the 
 whole New Testament should have been written in 
 Greek. We answer, 
 
 1. That many great critics allege, chiefly on the 
 authority of Papias, as quoted by Eusebius, (Eccles. 
 Hist. lib. iii. cap. nit.) that the gospel of Matthew 
 and the epistle to the Hebrews were originally 
 written in Hebrew :f but if that sliould be allowed 
 to be dubious, we may further add, 
 
 2. That great numbers of the Christian converts 
 were Grecians born, and others Hellenists, who 
 used the Greek translation of the Old Testa- 
 ment. 
 
 3. That the Greek language had spread so much 
 beyond any other in those days, that on the whole 
 it was most convenient for books that were intended 
 for universal use ; w Inch also in part appears from 
 
 * For much curious learning; on this sulyect, rficiiursc may he liad 
 to Michae'i/s's Introduction to the New Testament, lately translated by 
 Herbert Marsh, li. D. vol. i. p. 246—341. See also Mr. Marsh's notes, 
 ibid. 11. 489— .V22. 
 
 + Dr. AVilliams, in his inquiry into the authenticity of the two first 
 chapters of St. Matthew, and iu liis appendix to that work, stronsly 
 contends that Matthew's gospel was originally written in Hebrew, or, 
 to speak more properly, in Syro-ChalUaic. Michaelis is decidedly of 
 tlie same opinion ; wliicli, indeed, is powerfully supported by the 
 general testimony of the ancient fathers. It is likewise contended for 
 by IVTclLielis. that the epistle tothe Hebrews was composed in the same 
 laufcna^e. Dr. Lardncr's reasons for embracing the opposite side of the 
 question (in w hich he coincides with several learned critics) will be seen 
 ii> the r^fertiice.i. 
 
 the writings of several of the ancients, who though 
 they lived in .\sia and Egypt, used this language, 
 as .loscphus also did, though he wrote at Rome ; 
 and seems to have designed his books principally 
 for the use of the Romans. 
 
 Brerewood's Inq. c. i. and vi. Limb. Coll. p. 
 
 144, 145, 183, 184. Jones against Whist, c. 
 
 xvii. &e. Hallet on Ileh. Pref. Lardner's 
 
 Sup. vol. i. c. 5 ; § 5. ib. vol. ii. c. xii. ^ 14 ; 
 
 Works, vol. vi. p. 60—63 ; ib. p. 381—415. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Mr. Whiston has endeavoured to prove the evi- 
 dence of the genuineness of the Apostolic Coiisti- 
 tntions to be equal to that of the New Testament. 
 We own there are many curious and valuable arti- 
 cles, among many weak and ridiculous things, in 
 that very miscellaneous collection. Nevertheless, 
 when Whitson's arguments for tliem come to be 
 compared with those in the proposition, it will im- 
 mediately appear that they fall vastly .short of them : 
 and, indeed, these Constitutions contain many very 
 evident marks of forgery ; especially as they ex- 
 pressly determine the two grand controversies re- 
 lating to the time of Easter, and the re-admission 
 of those who had fallen away after baptism ; yet 
 their authority is never pleaded for the decision of 
 these controversies, even when those persons were 
 engaged in them, in whose hands he supposes the 
 originals of these Constitutions to have been lodged : 
 not now to insist upon the great improbability of 
 keeping those things secret at first, which were in- 
 tended to be a rule to Christians in all succeeding 
 ages ; which very ill agrees with the plain and 
 simple genius of Christianity, or that courage in 
 defence of the truth for which its earliest profes- 
 sors were above all mankind so eminent. There 
 are likewise so many things in these Constitutions, 
 different from, and even contrary to, the genius and 
 design of the writers of the New Testament, that no 
 wise man would believe, without the most con- 
 vincing and irresistible proof, that both could come 
 from the same band. 
 
 Whist. Prim. Christianity, vol. ii. iii. Saurin's 
 
 Sertn. v. ii. p. 185 — 187. Coci Censura Patr. 
 
 p. 3- — 7. Grabe's Ans. to Whist, pass. Bar- 
 
 ratieri Opera. Lardner's Cred. part. ii. vol. 
 
 viii. c. ult. ; Works, vol. iv. p. 320—356. % 
 
 i Mr. Merivalc has added a sixth .scholium, as follows, " Concerning 
 the (|Uestion, Whether besides those books that makeup the present 
 canon of the New Testament, there minht not have lieen other sacred 
 wrilinss of the Apostles and Evangelists that were very early lost. — 
 See Jones on the Canon, vol. i. part ii. i'. ii. and Lardner's Snppl. vol. 
 iii. c. XXV.; AV'orks, vol. vi. p. Gfi.')- GTi. Not having Dr. Harwood's 
 New Introduction to the Study and Knowledge of the New Testament 
 at hand, (the work having become scarce,) we refer in general to the 
 lirst volume of it, and especially to the first, third, and fourth chapters. 
 The authenticity of the New Testament is particularly considered by 
 Michaelis. See his Introduction to tlie New Testament, as lately trans- 
 lated by Herbert Marsh, B. 1). vol. i. p. 1 — 69 ; to which may be 
 added Mr. Marsh's Notes, p. ;M5— .37). Recourse may likewise be had 
 to Dr. Priestley's Letters h> a Philosopliical TInbeliever ; part the 
 second. In the latter end of these Lectures, the Doctor has c.xamiind 
 Mr. Gibbon's insinuations against Christianity, in the 15lh and IGtli 
 chapters of his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Many other 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, E' 
 
 LECTURE CXX. 
 
 PROPOSITION CIV. 
 The Jewish religion has been of considerable 
 anti(|iiity ; and, according to the common chrono- 
 logy, was founded by IMoses nearly 1500 years before 
 Christ's time. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Tliat there was such a people as the Jews 
 about the time of the Christian aera, and that they 
 were a little while after subdued by the Romans 
 under Vespasian and Titus, is so apparent from the 
 history of Tacitus and Suetonius, as well as many 
 other ancient writers and monuments, that it has 
 never been called in question, and therefore needs 
 no more particular proof. 
 
 2. Philo and Josephus, the two most considerable 
 writers who lived in that age, as well as a great 
 many others of the same religion before and since, 
 do expressly assert it as a notorious fact, that Moses 
 was the author of their religion and polity, and that 
 lie lived about the time mentioned in the proposition. 
 
 3. There is reason to believe, that as the Hebrew 
 language is of acknowledged antiquity, and docs 
 indeed bear many of the peculiar marks of an 
 original, they had among them some written and 
 credible account of the beginning of their constitu- 
 tion and nation ; especially considering how much 
 their laws differ from those of any other people on 
 the face of the earth. 
 
 4. Several of the Pagan writers, of whom we shall 
 give a more particular account in the Scholium, do 
 mention Moses as undoubtedly the lawyiver of the 
 Jews. 
 
 writers appeared in answer to Mr. Gibbon. A list of their publications 
 is as follows : — Ki.marks on llie Two last Chapters of IMr. (iibbon's 
 History of tlie Decline and Fall of llic Roman F.nipire ; in a letter to 
 a friend. An Apology for Christianity, in a Series of Letters, ad. 
 dressfd to Edward Gibbon, Est), by Dr. U. Watson, now Bishop of 
 Llandafl', first separately published, and since rep'inteil in the liishop's 
 Sermons and Tracts. Some Strictures on !\Ir. Gibbon's Account of 
 Christianity and its First Teachers, by the Rev. W. Salisbury. \i. D. 
 in his translation of Bulmer's History of the Ivslahlishment of Chris- 
 .tianily, compiled from Jewish and Heathen Antlmrs only. Loftus's 
 Reply to the ReasoninKS of Mr. Gibbon. Dr. Aptliorp's Observations 
 on a late History of the Decline of the Roman Empire, in his Letters 
 on the Prevalence of Christianity, bifore its Civil F.stablislimeiit. 
 Davis's E.xamination of the 15th and Kith Chapters of Mr. tjibbon's 
 History of Ihe Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. A few 
 Remarks on the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. 
 Dr. Chelsnm's Remarks on the Two last Chapters of Mr. tiibbon's 
 History of the Decline and Fall of the Rmnan F;mpirc. The Rev. 
 Henry Taylor's Thoughts on the Nature of Ihe Grand Apostasy ; with 
 Reflections and Observations on the IM\ Chapter of Mr. Gibbon's His- 
 tory of the Decli ne and Fall of the Roni'in Empire. And Sir D.ivid 
 Dalrymple's Inquiry into the Secondary Causes which Mr. Gibbon has 
 assitined for the rapid Progress of Christianity : a book very valuable, 
 tlinugh but little known. 
 
 In answer to Mr. Davis, Mr Gibbon published A Vindication of some 
 Passafies in the 15th and Kith Chapters of the History of the Decline 
 and Fall of the Roman Empire. To wbieli IMr. Davies replied. In 
 the iiublications referred to, not only the (fener.il authenticity and 
 credibility of the Gospel are vindicated, but several collateral questions 
 of no small importance arc considereil. 
 
 The authority of St Matthew's, St. Mark's, and St. John's Gosjiels, 
 lias lately been attacked by Mr. Evanson, in his work, enlilled The 
 Dinsonance of the Four general received Evjn'.;elists, and the Evidence 
 of their respective Authenticity examined. To this treatise Dr. Priest, 
 ley has given an answer, in the second part of his Eetti rs to a Young 
 Man. As the controversy is of a very recent date, it will probably be 
 productive of further publications. 
 
 FHICS, AND DIVINITY. 361 
 
 5. We cannot (ind timt there was any contest 
 between the Jews and tlie neighbouring nations, 
 concerning the antiquity of Moses and the origin of 
 the Jewish religion, though several of them pre- 
 tended their religious institutions to be much older; 
 as appears especially by those two excellent books 
 which Josephus has written against Appion, ex- 
 pressl)' on this subject. 
 
 1, 5. 6. There is reason to believe that the 
 Jewish religion has been of considerable antiquity, 
 and was founded by Moses about the time men- 
 tioned above. Q. D. 
 
 Grot, de Verit. Lib. i. § 16. p. 63— G6. Jenh. of 
 Chris, vol. i. p. 95—100. 
 
 SCHOLICM 1. 
 
 It may not be improper here to illu.strate yr. 4. by 
 giving an account of several ancient authors among 
 the Pagans, by whose testimony it is confirmed. 
 
 1. Manetho, Cheremon, Apollonius, and Lysima- 
 chus, besides some other ancient Egyptians and 
 Greeks, whose histories are now lost, are expressly 
 quoted by Josephus, as extant in his days ; and 
 passages are collected from them, in w hich they agree 
 that Moses was the leader of the Jews when they 
 departed from Egypt, and the founder of their laws; 
 though some of these writers intermix with their 
 story many ridiculous and infamous circumstances, 
 which the Jews have always denied ; but from the 
 quotation of which we may assure ourselves, that 
 the authors quoting the passages in question took 
 them honestly and exactly as they found them. 
 
 Jos. against Appion, lib. i. ^ 26. p. 1252 — 1354. 
 Ed. Htids. p. 105.5, Coloyn. Ibid. § 32. p. 
 1357, 1358 ; ib. §34. p. 1359, 13G0. 
 
 And Eusebius brings passages to the like purpose 
 from Eupolemus and Artapanus ; but as for those 
 long quotations he afterwards brings from the tra- 
 gedies of Ezekiel and Demetrius upon the same 
 subject, as the authors seem to have been Jews, if 
 not Christians, they are placed w ith less propriety 
 among the testimonies now under examination. 
 
 Eus. Prap. Ev. lib. ix. cap. 26 — 29. Clayton's 
 Vind. of the Old f'cstament, p. 128. 
 
 2. Strabo (Geoy. lib. xvi.) gives an account of 
 the law of Moses as forbidding images, and limiting 
 divine worship to one invisildc or ratiier universal 
 Being ; and in consetiucncc of this, bears an honour- 
 able testimony to the Jews, as a pious and righteous 
 nation. 
 
 Warb. Div. Ley. vol. i. p. 417, 418. Lcland 
 ayuinst Mory. p. 212, 213. edit. 2. 
 Celsus also refers to this passage of Strabo, and 
 frequently mentions Moses and other persons re- 
 corded in the Jewish history, in such a manner as 
 plainly to show he was familiarly acquaiiitcd with it. 
 
 3. Justin, from Trogus Pompcitis, tells us that 
 Moses, w hom by mistake he calls the son of Joseph, 
 
962 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 lioin<j driven from Epypl, and loadinp; other exiles, 
 encamped at mount Sinai, and there consecrated 
 the seventh day as a sacred solemnity, or, as he 
 ignoranlly expresses it, a perpetual fast. 
 
 Just. Hist. lib. xxxvi. e. ii. 
 
 4. Pliny the Elder s])eak.s of Moses as eminent 
 anionj^ tlic magicians, probably refcrrin";' to his 
 power of working miracles. 
 
 Pliny's i\'iit. Hislorij, lib. x\x. c. i. Lardner's 
 Test. vol. i. p. oay, 340 ; Works, vol. vii. p. 
 250. 
 
 5. Tacitus mentions Moses as one of the exiles 
 from Egypt, who persuaded the rest of them to com- 
 mit themselves to him as a celestial o;uide ; and 
 takes further notice of their bcins'' conducted by hiiu 
 through the wilderness, relieved in their thirst, and 
 receiving a set of laws from him, of which lie gives 
 a large though a very faulty account. 
 
 Tacit. Hist. lib. v. c. iii — v. Gord. Tac. vol. 
 iv. p. 476 — 482. Vlaijton, ib. p. 132—138. 
 
 G. Juvenal mentions Moses as the author of a 
 volume, which was preserved with great care among 
 the Jews, by which the worship of images and eat- 
 ing swine's llesh were forbidden, circumcision and 
 the observation of the Sabbath strictly enjoined. 
 
 Juv. Sat. xiv. vcr. 96—106. 
 
 Before him, Horace has mentioned Judaeus Ap- 
 pella, or a circumcised Jew, as a sort of proverb of 
 creduUtij, probably in reference to their believing so 
 many miraculous events recorded in tlieir sacred 
 books {Hor. Sat. lib. i. § 5, svb Jin. comp. Sat. ix. 
 ver. 69, 70.) ; yet, as he does not expressly mention 
 Moses, (however some have thought he referred to 
 liim, Od. ii. ver. 19. which we lay no stress upon, 
 vid. Delph. Not. ib.) we choose not to add him to 
 the catalogue of these writers. 
 
 7. Longinus cites Moses as the lawgiver of the 
 Jews, artd a person of no inconsiderable character ; 
 and adds, that lie has given a noble specimen of the 
 true sublime, in his account of the creation of tlie 
 world. 
 
 Long, de Sub. § 9. p. 60. Pearce's edit. 1732. 
 Lardn. Test. vol. iii. p. 105 ; Works, vol. 
 viii. p. 166—168. 
 
 8. Numcnius, as quoted by Eusebius and Origcn, 
 mentions Musaeus, prol)ably Moses, as a leader of 
 the Jews, who, by his prayers, brought dreadful 
 calamities on Egypt; which Jannes and Jamb res, 
 those celebrated magicians, were not able to resist : 
 and Eusebius reports it as his saying, that " Plato 
 was only Moses speaking Greek." 
 
 Eus. Prcrp. Ev. ix. 8. xi. 10. Orig. ay. Ce/s. 
 lib. iv. p. 198, 199. Lardner's Test. vol. iii. 
 c. xxxv. ; Works, vol. viii. p. 168 — 172. 
 
 9. Chalcidius speaks of Moses as a person of 
 eminent wisdom, more than human eloquence, and 
 as one who pretended to Divine Revelation ; but it 
 
 is nuieh to be doubted whctlicr he were a Pagan, 
 or, as both Eusebius and Fabricius maintain, a 
 Christian Platonist. Vid. Budai Phil. Hist. c. iv. 
 § 22 ; note p. 160, 161. 
 
 Lardn. ibid. vol. iv. c. xlii. ; Works, vol. viii. 
 p. 316—349. 
 
 10. Hermippus, an ancient writer of the life of 
 Pythagoras, says that the philosophers did, in 
 many of their rules, imitate the laws of the Jews ; 
 but 1 (ind not tiiat he expressly mentions Moses as 
 the author' of them. 
 
 .Jos. against Appion, lib. i. § 22. p. 1345. Huds. 
 
 11. The Orphic verses, which, though spurious, 
 are generally rcc^koncd of great antitjuity, inculcate 
 the worship of one God, as recommended by that 
 law " which was given by him who was drawn out 
 of the water, and received two tables of stone from 
 the hand of God." 
 
 Eus. Prcep. Ev. lib. xiii. c. xii. p. 666. 
 
 12. Diodorus Siculus, in his catalogue of those 
 lawgivers who pretended to have received the plan 
 of their laws from some deity, mentions Moses, as 
 ascribing his to that God whom he calls Joab, 
 which is probably a corruption of Jehovah. 
 
 Diod. Sic. 1. i. sub. init. English Trans, p. 49. 
 Gale's Court of the Gent, part i. p. 308. 
 And in an extract out of his fortieth book, which 
 is preserved by Photius, he gives a large, though 
 in some respects erroneous, account of the Jews ; 
 in which he speaks of Moses as a man of illustrious 
 prudence and courage, who settled the Jews in 
 their land, and instituted their religion and laws, 
 forbidding them images, as he pretends, on panthe- 
 istic principles, divided them into twelve tribes, 
 established the priesthood among them with a judi- 
 cial power, and adds several other particulars, 
 which, though mingled with mistakes, are of great 
 importance. 
 
 Diod. Sic. ap. Phot. Bib. No. 244. p. 2051, 
 20.52. 
 
 13. Dion Cassius (lib. xxxiii.) speaks of the Jews 
 as worshipping a Being of unutterable Majesty and 
 of an invisible nature ; but I lind not that he men- 
 tions Moses as giving them those ideas of him. 
 
 14. Varro mentions the Romans as having agreed 
 with the Jewish nation in that first worship of 
 theirs without images ; of which he declares his 
 approbation. Var. ap. Aug. de Civ. Dei, iv. 31. 
 
 15. Philemon, in the days of Alexander the 
 Great, has some verses which seem to be a kind of 
 translation from part of the Decalogue ; so that 
 there can be no reasonable doubt of his being 
 acquainted with it, though he says nothing of 
 Moses. See the verses in 
 
 Ridley on the Spirit, Senn. vii. p. 266. 
 And if Pliocylides were indeed, as is generally 
 thought, a Heathen poet, before Christ's time, he 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 3G3 
 
 may justly be joined to Philemon, as he has plainly 
 translated many of the Mosaic laws, though he does 
 not expressly mention their author. 
 
 16. Justin Martyr expressly says. That most of 
 the historians, poets, lawgivers, and philosophers, 
 of the Greeks, mention Moses as the leader and 
 prince of the Jewish nation ; and particularly enu- 
 merates Polemon, Appiou of Possidon, Ptolemy 
 Mendesius, Hellanicus, Philocorus, Castor, Thal- 
 lus, and Alexander Polyhistor, besides those taken 
 notice of above ; and adds, what it is very important 
 to observe, that they took their account of Moses, 
 not from the Jews, but the Egyptian priests, whence 
 it is well known they collected most of their learning. 
 Just. Cohortatio ad Gent. p. 9 — 11. Huet. Dem. 
 
 Pr. iv. c. ii. p. 49, &c. Calm. Diet. vol. ii. 
 
 p. 236—238. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It may not be improper here to add. That Jo- 
 sephus has insinuated, that the shepherd kings, 
 whom Manetho mentions as making so great a 
 figure in Egypt, and at length expelled, were Israel- 
 ites ; and Dr. Morgan has grafted a great many 
 false and absurd things relating to the Jewish his- 
 tory upon that supposition : but a late ingenious 
 writer has entirely overthrown the foundation of 
 that notion, as well as justly exposed Morgan's wild 
 superstructure ; and has advanced some reasons 
 worthy of consideration, to prove that the shepherd 
 kings were Arabians, and descendants of Ishmael. 
 Morg. Mor. Phil. vol. iii. p. 73. Theophilus 
 
 Cantahrigiensis Vinci, of Anc. Heh. Hist. pass. 
 
 pras. Rem. xxv. p. 53 — 64. Jos. Cont. App. 
 
 1. i. § 14—16.^ 
 
 LECTURE CXXI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CV. 
 The ancient Jews, before the time of Christ, had 
 books among them, bearing the titles of those 
 which make up what we Protestants call the Hooks 
 of the Old Testament ; and a catalogue of which 
 may be seen at the beginning of any of our Bibles. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 1. The books of the Old Testament are still ex- 
 tant in the Hebrew and Chaldee languages, with 
 such marks of purity as prove them to be very 
 ancient. 
 
 • Much has been snid by chronolop;cis coticerniiiR Uie slicplierd 
 kin;^s, and different conjectures have been formed conccrninjj them. 
 The matter is not of p^reat importance. Mr. Jackson refers the sliep. 
 herd dynasty to llie sett!citie;it of tlie Israelites in iv.;ypt. Sir K-iar 
 I Newton supposes llie sheplierds to have been thcexpelled Caiiaaniles; 
 and Mr. Bryant, if my rec-oileetion docs not fail me, refers tliein to the 
 Amonians. Mr. Itrel^ell, in liis Dissertation upon the Subjeet of Cir- 
 ctimcision, coincides in opinion witli Theopihlus Canlal>ri;iiensis, who, 
 I apprelicnd, was Dr. Squire, afterwards Bishop of St. David's. 
 
 2. Tliere was a Greek translation of them, in the 
 days of Ptolemy Philadelphus, which was laid up 
 in the Alexandrine Library, collected by him. 
 
 Prid. Connec. vol. ii. p. 27 — i7.prces. p. 27 — 35. 
 44 — 47. Jos. Ant. 1. xii. c. ii. Ens. Eccles. 
 Hist. lib. V. c. viii. Vales. Nut. 
 
 3. It is generally thought bj' learned men, that 
 Onkelos published his Targum ; i e. the Chaldee 
 paraphrase on the law, and Jonathan his on the 
 Prophets, either before or very near the time of 
 Christ, which plainly shows the original Hebrew to 
 have been older. 
 
 Cahnet Diet, in Onk. and Jonath. Prid. Con. 
 vol. ii. p. 531 — 538, 542—545. 
 
 4. Josephus gives us an obscure kind of cata- 
 logue of the sacred books among the Jews, in which 
 he expressly mentions the five books of Moses, 
 thirteen of the Prophets, four of Hymns and Moral 
 Precepts. Now, if we, with many critics, allow 
 that Ruth was added to Judges, and Lamentations 
 to Jeremiah, then this number will agree with those 
 which make up our Old Testament. 
 
 Josephus ag. Appion, lib. i. p. 1036. Col. edit, 
 p. 1333. Huds. Prid. Con. vol. i. p. 331, 
 332. Jennings's Jew. Antiq. vol. ii. p. 373. 
 
 5. Both Jews and Christians, from the time of 
 Christ, have generally agreed to receive those books 
 which make up our Old Testament as genuine. As 
 to the attempt that has been made to introduce 
 others, called the Apocrypha, which will hereafter 
 be examined, it does not afiect the present ques- 
 tion, any further than as the Jews rejecting these 
 books, may be considered as an argument of their 
 care in examining those they admitted. 
 
 6. The quotations made from the Old Testament 
 in the New, which we have already proved to be 
 genuine, do evidently infer the existence of those 
 books from whence they w ere taken ; and also show 
 by the way, that the Jews did not only receive them 
 as authentic, but divine, — as Josephus also, in the 
 preceding reference, assures us that they did in the 
 strongest terms ; and it is observable, that all the 
 books of the Old Testament are cited in the New, 
 except Judges, Ruth, Ecclesiastes, Canticles, Ezra, 
 Nehcmiah, Esther, and perhaps Chronicles ; inso- 
 much that, on the vvhclc, the express quotations 
 from, or references to, the Old Testament in the 
 whole volume of the New, are computed at about 
 GOO. Vid. Index to Mattaire's edition of the New 
 Testament. 
 
 7. Melito, Gregory Nazianzen, Origen, Athana- 
 .sius, Hilary, Epiphanius, Jerom, and several later 
 writers, have given us catalogues of the books of 
 the Old Testament ; in \Vhich~ none of ours arc 
 omitted, excepting Ruth, which is left out in some, 
 because perhaps included in Judges. 
 
 8. The Samaritans, who separated from the Jews 
 
364 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 many liumlrod yeuis Ix'foir (lie birth of Clii ist, liavc 
 ill tlu'ir I aliquant' a Poiitatoncli, in the main exactly 
 affreeinsi w itli the Hebrew. 
 
 Prill. Con. vol. i. p. 41() — 418. Diipin on the 
 Can. vol. i. c. i. § 2 — 5. Calmet's Diet. vol. 
 ii. p. 55)9, 600. Kenniiott's Dissert, on the 
 Hebrew Text, vol. i. p. 337, &c. Kcnnie. 
 Aeeount of his CoUation, p. 145. 
 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. U. Valet propositio. 
 
 Leusd. Diss. Phil. p. 54 — G2. Jenk. on Chris- 
 tianity, vol. ii. p. 84 — 94. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Sir William Temple's insinuation, That there 
 are no Hebrew records now extant, older than the 
 Aup:ustan ajfe, is most wild and arbitrary ; and so 
 contrary to strong and direct evidence, and indeed 
 to common sense, that one would believe he in- 
 tended to except the Old Testament, though he ex- 
 presses himself in so unguarded a manner. 
 
 Temp. Misc. vol. ii. p. 36. 2d edit. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Nothing is said above of that Jewish chronicle 
 called Seder Olaiii Rahhah ; i. e. the Larger Cliro- 
 nicle, on which some have laid so great a stress, as 
 the authority of it is disputed ; but tlic regard which 
 some very learned men have paid to it, makes one 
 wisli that the evidence of its authenticity, and the 
 importance of its contents, may be set in a clearer 
 and easier light than that in which it has hitherto 
 appeared ; for if it be indeed true tliat its author 
 was master to the compilers of the Mishna, it must 
 Lc worthy an attentive inquiry. 
 
 Prid. Con. vol. ii. Pref. p. 20. 
 
 PROPOSITION CVI. 
 The books of the Old Testament, which the an- 
 cient Jews had among them in Clirist's time, were in 
 the main genuine.* 
 
 DEMONSTRATION I. 
 From external evidence. 
 
 Prop. 104. 1. Considering what evidence there 
 is that there was such a person as Moses, and that 
 he was lawgiver of the Jews, there is reason to be- 
 lieve that he would write his institutions, since 
 there was such proper and important occasion for 
 doing it. 
 
 Prop. 104. Schol. 1. No. 6, 7, 9, 11. 2. Several 
 of the authors enumerated above speak of Moses as 
 a writer, as well as a lawgiver. 
 
 3. In the nature of things, it is very probable 
 that, in a polity so founded as that of Moses ap- 
 pears to have been, occasions of writing histories 
 and laws should have occurred ; and that religious 
 teachers, rising in dill'erent ages, should, by their 
 writings, as those of other religions liave done, en- 
 
 * As a ijeneral reftrence on Hiis siil)je( t, sec Leianil's Answer to 
 lV)Iinf;l)roke's Letters on the Study of History, p. 44—70. former 
 Jid ilor. —Sue also Leland's View of Ueisticaf Writers, vol. ii, p. 
 266—305, fourtli edit. 
 
 deavourto enforce an institution which they at least 
 supposed to be divine. 
 
 4. The persons to whom the books of Moses and 
 the succeeding writers wore first proposed, were 
 capable of judging whether they were genuine or 
 no ; and there is no reason to believe they would 
 have received them with such extraordinary regard, 
 as it is well known the Jews paid to them, if they 
 had not been well satisfied on that head ; and con- 
 sidering how highly tliose books were regarded by 
 all the pious Jews, and how much even their civil 
 affairs depended upon them, we cannot suppose 
 that an entire change of them could have been at- 
 tempted, without being discovered and rejected with 
 the utmost indignation. 
 
 1 — 5. Prop. 105. (). There is reason to believe 
 that the books of the Old Testament, wliieh the 
 ancient Jews had among them, were genuine. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION II. 
 Taken from internal arguments. 
 
 1. Many of the facts recorded in the Old Testa- 
 ment are of so extraordinary a nature, that if the 
 books giving an account of them had been forged, 
 tlie very circumstance of their being before un- 
 known, would have been a suflicient argument 
 against receiving any books that contained an 
 account of them. 
 
 2. Many of the institutions contained in their 
 laws were so burthensomc, and some of them, 
 humanly speaking, so liazardous, or rather so cer- 
 tainly ruinous to any nation not secured by an 
 extraordinary providence correspondent to them, 
 (especially those relating to the Sabbatical year, 
 the resort of all the males to Jerusalem, and the 
 prohibition of cavalry,) that forged books, contain- 
 ing such precepts, would probably have been 
 rejected with the greatest abhorrence. 
 
 Bennet on Script, p. 72 — 74. Shcrl. on Proph. 
 Diss. iv. Waib. Div. Leijat. vol. ii. p, 462, 
 463. Discourse on the Proofs of the Books of 
 Moses, at the e7id of Pascal's Thoiiijhts, French 
 edition. 
 
 3. The great variety observable in the style of 
 these books, makes it improbable they should have 
 been the work of one, — and the unity of design, that 
 they .should have been the invention of many ; for 
 if these supposed inventors lived in dilTeicnt ages, 
 they could not have consulted with each other ; and 
 if they lived in the same age, the largeness of their 
 plan would only have subjected them to new difli- 
 eulties, without being likely to answer any valuable 
 end ; and he who could be weak enough to embar- 
 rass a scheme with so many unnecessary articles, 
 must probably have wanted a genius capable of 
 managing them all so well. 
 
 Jortin's Rem. on Eecles. Hist. \ol. i. p. 41 — 45. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 365 
 
 The same remark may also be applied to the 
 New Testament, though the external arguments for 
 the genuineness of it are so strong, that it did not 
 seem necessary to insist upon this hint. 
 
 Mill. Prop. vol. i. p. 98. 
 
 4. The provision that was made for reading the 
 law publicly every seventh year, at the Feast of 
 Tabernacles, (when it is probable the copies kept in 
 private hands might be compared with that laid up 
 before the Lord,) Deut. xxxi. 9—13, 24—26. and 
 the injunction on the king to transcribe it with his 
 own hand, (Deut. xvii. 18 — ^20.) would be a probable 
 means of preventing corruption ; and adds an evi- 
 dence to the genuineness of these writings, much 
 greater than can be found with regard to others of 
 the most ancient authors. 
 
 The charge also given to private persons to make 
 themselves familiarly acquainted with the contents 
 of the law, and to teach it their children, desers es 
 to be mentioned under this head, as an institution 
 of the greatest importance for keeping it uncorrupt- 
 ed (Deut. 6 — 9, and sim.) ; and which indeed, 
 according to the remark of Josephus in the preced- 
 ing reference, had an extraordinary efficacy to this 
 purpose. 
 
 1, 2, 3, &c. 4. 5. Valet propositio. 
 Nick. Conf. vol. iv. p. 17 — 22, 12mo edit. ; 8vo 
 edit. vol. ii. part iv. p. 10, 13. Jenkins on 
 Christ, vol. i. p. 169—187. 
 
 LECTURE CXXII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this it is objected. That the degeneracy of the 
 Jews, according to their own history, and their dis- 
 regard to the institutions of Moses, together with 
 the scarcity of books in those early ages, and the 
 various oppressions which they suflered under their 
 enemies, might occasion the loss of authentic copies, 
 and give some designing priests an opportunity of 
 substituting others in their room ; especially might 
 this happen when tlie Book of the Law was said to 
 be found in the reign of Josiah, (2 Kings xxii. 8, 
 &c.) or during the time of the Babylonish captivity ; 
 but to this it is answered, 
 
 1. This at best is no more than a conjecture, 
 without any positive proof of such a forgery. 
 
 2. It is uncertain whether, if such a fraud had 
 been attempted, it could have succeeded at either 
 of the times mentioned, though they are indeed the 
 most probable which can be assigned ; for, not to 
 insist upon the possibility there is, that the writing 
 found in .losiah's reign was only the last chapter of 
 Deuteronomy, that awakening passage of Scrip- 
 ture, — were wc to suppose it to have been the 
 
 whole Pentateuch, perhaps Josiah might before 
 have had some copy of the law, though not equally 
 perfect with the original which had been found in 
 the temple ; and he might be more powerfully 
 struck with hearing it read in the circumstances 
 there described, though he had not been before an 
 entire stranger to the contents of it, which it is 
 certain he was not, considering the reformation he 
 had before made, 2 Chron. xxxiv. 3, &c. There 
 were probably some copies of the law remaining in 
 other hands, as there certainly were during the 
 time of the captivity. See Dan. ix. 1 1 — 13. to 
 which may be added Ezra iii. 2 — 5 ; vi. 18 — 21. 
 2 Chron. xxxvi. 22. Ezra i. 1. Neh. viii. 1—8. 
 So that it appears to be an idle tale, which so 
 many of the Christian fathers borrowed from the 
 Jews, that Ezra, by divine inspiration, restored the 
 sacred books, after they had been entirely lost. 
 
 Eus. Eccles. History, v. 8. Vales. Not. Prid. 
 
 Con. vol. i. p. 329. Jennings's Jewish Antiq. 
 
 vol. i. p. 172. 
 
 3. There is not the least probability that such 
 laws as those which are now to be found in the Old 
 Testament, were forged at any time, especially on 
 such an occasion ; since nothing could have been 
 more imprudent, upon the principles of human 
 policy, than such precepts as those mentioned in 
 Prop. 106. Dem. 2. gr. 2. which would have been 
 peculiarly liable to exception, when Israel was so 
 surrounded with enemies, and straitened in their 
 possessions, as they were both in the days of Josiah 
 and Ezra. Nor can we imagine that to these Ezra 
 would have added that precept, on which they were 
 obliged to put away their strange wives, which was 
 so tender a point, and might liave produced such 
 fatal divisions ; considering how many had married 
 such, and how considerable some of them were 
 both by birth and alliance, and how many foreign 
 families would be made their enemies by such 
 divorces ; some of them were also priests and 
 Levites, who must have been privy to the forgery, 
 if there had been any. So tliat, upon the whole, 
 there is so little reason to suspect Ezra as the in- 
 ventor of these precepts, that it is an instance of 
 the impartial regard he had for the original, tliat he 
 would retain them at so great a hazard ; Ezra ix. 
 x ; Neh. xiii. 23 — 29. a remark also applicable in 
 some degree to Josiah. 
 
 Burn, on the Art. p. 83, 84. Evans's Chris. 
 
 Temp. vol. ii. p. 375 — 377. Millar's Prop. 
 
 vol. i. p. 88—94. Allix's Refl. vol. i. p. 32, 
 
 33. Shuchford's Connexion, vol. ii. p. 337. 
 
 Leland against Tind. vol. ii. p. 123 — 142. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is further objected. That it is impossil)le that 
 Moses should have been the author of tiie Penta- 
 teuch, or Samuel, or Nehemiah, of those books 
 
366 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 which under (lieir name ; since ninm' circum- 
 stances arc rcrordeil in llicm whidi did not happen 
 till many years after their death. Vid. Gen. xii. 
 G; xxii. 14; xxxvi. 31. Exod. xvi. 35. (compared 
 with Josh. V. 12.) Numb. xii. 3. Deul. ii. 12; iii. 
 11, 14 ; xxxiv. 5, &e. 1 Sam. xv. to the end of the 
 2d of Samuel, Neh. xii. 10, 11. where the eata- 
 losTuc of hijili priests is carried down to the time of 
 Alexander the Great. 
 
 To that part of this objection which may affect 
 the Pentateueii, some have replied. That Samuel 
 miftht have been the author of those books which 
 are called The Books of Moses, because they treat 
 of him ; as those of Samuel are named after that 
 prophet, because his history made so considerable 
 a part of them. Among others, Sir Isaac Newton 
 and Lord Harrington suppose Genesis, and the 
 other historical books before Moses's time, to have 
 been written by Samuel, and for this purpose quote 
 Acts iii. 21, 24. but this is so directly contrary to 
 many other Scriptures, that it is strange that any 
 should patronize the opinion, especially when com- 
 paring 1 Sam. ii. 10. and 2 Sam. xxiii. 3 — 5. which 
 may afl'ord so easy and beautiful an illustration of 
 the above-mentioned text in Acts, on which Bar- 
 rington lays his chief stress. (See Grey on the last 
 words of David.) The Scriptures to which this 
 hypothesis is most directly contrary, are 2 Chron. 
 xxiii. 18. Daniel ix. 11, 13. Mai. iv. 4. Mark vii. 
 10 ; xii. 19. Luke xvi. 29, 31 ; xx. 28, 37 ; xxiv. 
 27, 44. John i. 45; v. 46, 47. 
 
 Barringt. Essays on Div, Dispensations, App. 
 No. iv. ; Works, vol. iii. p. 197 — 208. New- 
 ton on Daniel, e. i. 
 
 Therefore, waving this, it seems more reasonable 
 to say (as the most ancient Jewish writers since the 
 time of the Old Testament assure us) that Ezra 
 published a new edition of the books of Moses, in 
 which he added those passages as notes, w-bich per- 
 haps afterwards crept into the text, by mistake of 
 the transcribers ; although indeed, with regard to 
 many of the passages alleged, it is evident there is 
 no absurdity at all in supposing them to have been 
 written by Moses himself. Perhaps Simon the 
 Just might also make some additions to those books 
 which were written after Ezra's time. 
 
 Prid. Con. vol. i. p. 342 — 345, 573-^75. Kid- 
 der on the Pent. vol. i. Diss. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 As for Father Simon's hypothesis. That the Penta- 
 teuch was formed from some loose writings of the 
 annals of Moses, and that many of the leaves were 
 transposed, the reasons on which it depends are so 
 inconsiderable, that it seems not necessary to give 
 a more particular view of it. 
 
 Sim. Crit. Hist. Old Test. p. 36, h.c. Dupin 
 on the Can. vol. i. e. iii. § 1. p. 68 — 75. Nic. 
 
 Conf. vol. iv. p. 8 — 16 ; vol. ii. p. ri — 10. 8vo. 
 Marsh's Anthentivitij of the Five Books of 
 Moses considered. 
 
 SCIIOLM'M 4. 
 
 Under the second step of the second Demonstra- 
 tion, we might have mentioned the omission of the 
 doctrine of future rewards and i)unishmcnts, on 
 which Dr. Warburton has insisted so largely in his 
 learned work, called The Divine Leyalion of Moses ; 
 but as that argument is intended to prove not only 
 the genuineness, but also indeed the divine authority, 
 of those books, it may be proper to state it alone 
 elsewhere. We shall only add here. That there is 
 reason to suspect whether, allowing the argument 
 to be valid, it be of so great importance as the in- 
 genious author supposes, seeing it depends upon so 
 many nice questions ; v. (j. how far it is certain that 
 Moses has omitted it? — how far such an omission is 
 peculiar to him as a legislator ? — how far it proves 
 its dependence upon an equal Providence ?— what 
 that equal Providence was ? — whether personal or 
 national .' — and how far the expectation of it, or 
 ground for that expectation, was a thing peculiar 
 to the Jews? On all these accounts, the argument 
 is much more complex, and seems less certain and 
 less striking, than similar arguments, drawn from 
 Moses's having laid it down as a fact certainly to be 
 depended upon. That a treble crop should attend 
 tlie sixth year of tillage from the Sabbatical ; (Lev. 
 xxv. 21.) and that the family of Aaron, in its male 
 line, should never be extinct, nor ever want an 
 adult heir free from tliose blemishes that would 
 have rendered him incapable of service ; which 
 nothing but a full consciousness of a divine lega- 
 tion, could have warranted so wise a man in making 
 fundamental to his system. 
 
 Middlet. Miscel. Works, vol. i. p. 381—384. 
 
 LECTURE CXXIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CVII. 
 
 The Old Testament, as now extant in the Hebrew, 
 is in the main what it originally was. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 106. 1. The Old Testament, as extant in 
 the time of the Jews who were contemporary with 
 Christ, was genuine.* 
 
 2. Such as it was in the time of Christ, it came 
 early into the hands of the Christians, and has con- 
 tinued in their hands ever since ; so that the Jews 
 could not have been able to make any considerable 
 
 ♦ A persuasion of tlie .aljsolulc intogrily and purity of the Hebrew 
 text was Ion"? current among tlit generality of I'rotestant Divines; 
 hut tiiis opinion was so powerfully attacked by Dr. Kennicott, in his 
 two dissertations on the printed State of the Hebrew Text; and, at 
 len^tli, so completely and experimentally refuted by liis collations, 
 that it is now universally exploded. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 367 
 
 alteration in it, had they been ever so desirous of it, 
 while the Christians were such a guard upon them, 
 in a matter on which so much of the evidence of 
 Christianity has at least been supposed to depend ; 
 nor, on the other hand, could the Christians cor- 
 rupt it without the discovery of the Jews, who would 
 never have spared them, could they have proved 
 such an attempt on records which they esteemed so 
 sacred, by persons for whom they had such an im- 
 placable aversion. 
 
 3. There have been many ancient versions, which 
 are yet extant in the Polyglot Bible, in which there 
 is such an agreement in the main, both with the 
 original and with each other, as we cannot suppose 
 there could have been, had the original been cor- 
 rupted after the date of those versions, of which 
 some are of considerable age. 
 
 The most considerable versions to which we refer 
 above, besides the Seventy, were the Targums, or 
 Chaldee Paraphrases, which, if later than Christ's 
 time, were yet very ancient ; the GReek of Theodo- 
 sian, Aquila, and Symmachus ; the Syriac, the 
 Arabic, Ethiopic, and Persian, besides the old 
 Italic : — of all which see Jones and Walton, refer- 
 red to below. 
 
 4. In latter ages, the Masorites have expressed a 
 great and even superstitious care in keeping tlie 
 copy of the Old Testament as incorrupt as possible, 
 numbering even the lines, the words, and the letters, 
 in each book ; and though this care may be said to 
 come late, i. e. about the year 500, it is to be re- 
 membered, it extends to those ages in which Chris- 
 tians were most ignorant of Hebrew, and the Jews 
 had some learning ; so that, perhaps, had they been 
 disposed to corrupt their Scriptures, they might 
 have done it then with the greatest safety ; in which 
 view, there seems to be something very providential 
 in this exact scrupulosity of theirs at such a period. 
 See Pre/, to Van Hoofjht's ed. of the Heb. Bib. 
 
 1, 2, 3, and 4. 5. The Old Testament, as extant 
 in the Hebrew, is in the main uncorrupted. 
 
 Jones's Crit. Led. c. iv. ^ 70 — 74. c. xiii. xiv. 
 xvi. xvii. xviii. 3IS. Turret, vol. i. Loc. ii. 
 queest. x. § 5—13. Walton's Prol. to Polytj. 
 Bible. Dr. Gill's Pref. to his Diss, on the 
 Heb. Lane/, part. i. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this some object the difference which there is 
 in many places between the Seventy and the He- 
 brew; some of which variations are of great mo- 
 ment, especially in chronology. To this we may 
 reply, 
 
 1. That it is reasonable to believe the Seventy 
 may have been altered in some places, or the He- 
 brew mistaken by the first translators ; which may 
 account for several differences. 
 
 2. If it be supposed that the Hebrew points were 
 
 of later invention, a supposed difference in them will 
 account for a vast number of variations in the 
 Seventy ; and the similarity of several Hebrew 
 letters will account for many more. 
 
 3. The Seventy itself attests the truth and exact- 
 ness of vastly the greater pai t of the Hebrew Bible, 
 even if it should be granted that this translation is 
 preferable to the original ; which yet is a concession 
 by no means to be made. Now the proposition does 
 not assert, That there are no errors at all in the 
 Hebrew copy ; the contrary to which the difference 
 between the Keri and Kethib does evidently show. 
 Prid. Con. vol. i. p. 331. Shuchford's Con. 
 
 vol. i. p. 48 — 72. Winder's Hist, of Knowl. 
 
 vol. i. c. xvi. Hallet's Notes on Scripture, 
 
 vol. i. p. 118—129.* 
 
 SCHOLU'M 2. 
 
 It is further objected. That many passages quoted 
 in the New Testament, and in the writings of the 
 Christian fathers, are very different from the cor- 
 respondent passages as they now stand in the 
 Hebrew; and that some words are introduced as 
 quotations, which are nowhere to be found. Now 
 if with some we suppose, that those early Christian 
 writers quoted from the Seventy, the objection will 
 then coincide with the former ; but as for reasons 
 to be given elsewhere, we do not grant that : — we 
 answer, 
 
 1. Perhaps they quoted from their memory ; which 
 is the more probable, as sometimes the same pas- 
 sage is quoted by different authors in very different 
 words, even where the sense agrees. 
 
 2. The sense of the passages supposed to be lost 
 is still to be found in the Old Testament, thougli 
 the words be not, especially Matt. ii. ult. John vii. 
 38. Yet, if it were to be granted. That some of the 
 verses originally belonging to the Old Testament 
 are lo.st, it would not be at all inconsistent with the 
 truth of our proj)osition, which only opposes general, 
 material, and designed corruption. f 
 
 Dod. Fam. Exp. in loc. cit. 
 
 SCIlOMirM 3. 
 
 It is further objected, That many of the Christian 
 fathers complain that the Jews had corrupted the 
 Old Testament, in order to weaken the proofs of 
 Christianity from thence. 
 
 Ans. Justin Martyr, and some others who advance 
 this charge, were only actjuainted with some Greek 
 
 * There iR notliin;^ in wliicii liic diflercnre bt•t^ve^n the Hi'hrcw 
 Bihic and the Septtufjint version is more striking and important than 
 ni tlie diversity of tlieir riironoln^^y. To which ttic preference sliuuld 
 lie given has been nnirli disputed among learned men ; and there .ire 
 ;^reat names on both sides of the question. Two of the latest En^ilish 
 writers oti the sul)jeet are Bishop Clayton and Mr. Jaekson. The 
 Bishop's work isentilled, " The Chronology of tlie llehrew liibic vindi. 
 rated ; the F.icts compared w ith other Ancient Histories, and the Diffi- 
 culties explained, from the Flood to the Death of IMoses ; tojjether with 
 some Conjectures in Relation to K;;ypt, during that IVriod of Time." 
 Mr. .lackson, in his Chronological Antii|iiities, has sustained with great 
 abilily and learning the opposite hypothesis. 
 
 + The question concerning the miotations from the Old Testament 
 in the New, is amply considered in Micliuelis's Introduction to the New 
 Testament, vol. i. p. 200—235. See also Mr. Marsh's Notes, ib. p. 
 4CU-489. 
 
368 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 versions, wbii-li, whether it were the Seventy or 
 not, must be liereafter eonsidered ; and believing 
 the divine authority of them, they chargje all the 
 variations w hieh are to be found in tlie Hebrew, as 
 the Jews quoted it, to be eorruptions of their own ; 
 and sometimes they may mean only interpret- 
 ations. 
 
 Collins's Grounds, part ii. c. i. ii. v. VV/tist. 
 Ess. See. Prop. xii. Carpzovius's Def. &e. 
 e. ix. Jones's Crit. Led. e. iv. ^ 7o — 83. MS. 
 Middlcton's Inq. p. 41 — 43. 
 
 STHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Nevertheless, we tnay, eonsistently with the truth 
 of the proposition, allow, That some alterations have 
 happened in transcribing ; many of which were 
 undoubtedly undesii^ncd, because they could answer 
 no ima<i;inal)lc end. Sometimes a very small mis- 
 take in a transcriber would greatly alter the sense, 
 as Psal. xxii. 17. and it seems, on comparing all 
 the arguments, we may safely conclude, that if 
 there have been any designed alterations in the 
 Old Testament, they must have been made between 
 the time of Christ and the rise of the Masorites, in 
 the third century ; and then the alterations would 
 be of such a kind, as to be prejudicial rather than 
 favourable to Christianity ; so that, w hatever argu- 
 ments in proof of Christianity can be brought from 
 the Old Testament, the force of them will not be at 
 all diminished, should we allow some designed 
 variations ; but indeed it is not in the nature of 
 things very probable, either that, leaving those im- 
 portant passages which yet remain, they would 
 have corrupted the rest for so little. reason, or that, 
 believing (as we are sure they did) the divine origi- 
 nal of the Scriptures, they would upon any terms 
 have corrupted them designedly, /. e. have destroyed 
 what they thought divine, so far as in them lay, to 
 substitute something human in its stead. Compare 
 Deut. iv. 2 ; xii. 32. Rev. xxii. 18, 19. 
 
 Hallet on Script, vol. ii. p. 109, 110. Leland's 
 View of Deist. Writ. vol. ii. p. 302—307. 
 
 LECTURE CXXIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION CVIII. 
 The history of the New Testament is in the main 
 credible ; i. c. there is as great regard to be paid to 
 it as is due to other histories of allowed character 
 and reputation. 
 
 LEMMA TO DEMONSTRATION. 
 It is reasonable to believe that the history record- 
 ed in the New Testament is, in the main, agreeable 
 to those facts which were asserted by the first preach- 
 ers, and received by the first converts of Christianity ; 
 for if there had been any remarkable inconsistency 
 
 between them, those first converts could not have 
 received the books of the New Testament as genuine, 
 which yet we have already proved that they did. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 103. 1. The several books of the New 
 Testament were written by those who were person- 
 ally concerned in many of the facts they relate, and 
 who had the best opportunities of being informed 
 concerning the most important of those other facts 
 which they have recorded. This especially appears 
 with respect to Matthew, Peter, John, Paul, and 
 Luke, at least so far as he wrote of several of Paul's 
 journeys, in which he himself attended him. 
 
 1. 2. The authors of the New Testament were 
 capable of giving us a true account of the facts they 
 have undertaken to record, — and if what they have 
 written were false, it must have been a designed 
 forgery ; for there is nothing which looks like 
 lunacy in any of their writings ; least of all can we 
 imagine that such a uund)er of madmen could have 
 agreed in so consistent a story ! 
 
 3. There are the greatest marks of integrity in 
 their writings, — both in the simplicity of their style 
 and the faithful manner they relate circumstances, 
 which might bring reflection on their own character 
 and their Master's. 
 
 Boll. 3I(tn. d'etud. vol. ii. p. 420 — 426. West 
 on the Resnrr. p. 344 — 363. 
 
 4. There are also in their writings the most 
 genuine traces of a pious and benevolent temper, 
 of a contempt of sull'ering and death itself, when 
 they might be called to meet it in the cause of truth. 
 Upon the whole, it seems the design of their writ- 
 ings, — to carry virtue in all its branches to the sub- 
 limcst degree, even beyond what any of the Heathen 
 moralists did or attempted ; and, so far as we can 
 judge by their strain and manner, they appear like 
 good men, bringing out of the treasure of their 
 hearts good things. 
 
 3, 4. 5. Their character seems, on the whole, 
 such as may give us a probable expectation that 
 they would speak the truth to the best of their 
 knowledge ; and there must have been at least 
 some circumstances of strong temptation to engage 
 them knowingly to deviate from it, especially in 
 points of so great importance as those which by their 
 writings they were labouring to carry ; nor ought 
 we by any means lightly to believe that persons, 
 whose characters at first view appear so fair and 
 honourable, would engage in a design so much to 
 the dishonour of God and injury of men's souls and 
 bodies, as theirs mu.st have been, if their testimony 
 were false ; since they laboured to turn men's de- 
 votion into a wrong channel, and to engage the 
 most upright of mankind, and those who were their 
 best friends, in a cause which was likely to ruin 
 both themselves and their families. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 3C9 
 
 6. Considering how incrediblo their story seemed 
 at the first hearing, and how contrary it was both 
 to the passions and secular interests of mankind, 
 they had no temptation to attempt a fraud of this 
 nature in expectation of any worldly advantage ; 
 but might depend upon such persecutions and 
 oppositions as many of the first professors of Chris- 
 tianity appear to have met w ith, and as they them- 
 selves in their writings tell us they both encoun- 
 tered and expected. — See the texts under Sch. 4. 
 
 5, 6. 7. There is no reason to believe that they 
 would in this instance attempt to impose upon ns. 
 
 8. The persons to whom they addressed them- 
 selves, would be inclined to do their utmost to dis- 
 cover the fraud, if tliere were room to suspect any ; 
 considering that the doctrines of the first teachers 
 of Christianity evidently tended to fix an odium 
 upon the Jewish rulers, to destroy peculiar privi- 
 leges and emoluments both of the Jewish and 
 Pagan priests, to oppose all the superstitious regard 
 paid to deified emperors, and the idolatries which 
 mingled themselves in their most pompous games 
 and spectacles : that it poured contempt upon those 
 things for which the Gentile orators and philoso- 
 phers were ready to value themselves most; and. 
 Oil the whole, required such eminent degrees of 
 humility and universal virtue, as were exceedingly 
 opposite to that pride and wickedness which so 
 generally prevailed both among Jews and Gentiles. 
 
 West on the Res. p. 410 — 428. pras. p. 420 — 
 423. 
 
 9. A fraud like this, if it were a fraud, might 
 verj' easily have been detected, — seeing they bore 
 their first testimony in the very place and age in 
 which Christ is said to have been crucified, and to 
 have risen from the dead (as appears from what 
 was observed of the early prevalency of Christianity 
 in Judea, Prop. 98. r/i\ 4.) ; and as the persons, 
 whose character and interest wero chielly affected 
 by it, had the civil power in their own hands, no 
 doubt the thing would be thoroughly canvassed ; 
 and if it had appeared false, would have been im- 
 mediately exposed. Besides, wherever they came, 
 they attested facts of sucli a nature, as might easily 
 have been discovered on the spot ; not merely 
 
 I asserting that they had seen Christ and some of his 
 
 ' followers work miracles, but that they themselves 
 had such a power ; nay, that they communicated 
 
 I extraordinary gifts of the Spirit to their hearers, 
 producing so sensible an effect, as the speaking 
 languages they had never learnt. Paul particularly 
 appeals on this occasion both to the Corinthian and 
 Galatian churches, and argues with them on these 
 facts, even when his interest among them was be- 
 
 ] ginning to decline ; so that, on the whole, multi- 
 tudes must immediately and certainly have known 
 whether the great facts they asserted were true 
 or not. 
 
 2 B 
 
 9. 10. Had the story which the apostles told 
 been a forgery, it would, no doubt, have been 
 quickly discovered, and rejected with the utmost 
 abhorrence. 
 
 Prop. 98 and 103. 11. Nevertheless, it gained a 
 very great degree of credit in Judca, Greece, Italy, 
 and other places ; and vast numbers of persons, in 
 that very age in which these things are said to have 
 been taught and done, were so fully persuaded of 
 the truth of Christianity, that as it appears from 
 the writings of the apostles to the primitive churches, 
 as well as from other ancient monuments, they 
 cheerfully ventured their estates and lives upon a 
 confidence of the truth of those facts, which the 
 first preachers of the Gospel taught. 
 
 2, 7, 10, 11. Lem. 12. Since the writers of the 
 New Testament were neither liable to be deceived 
 themselves in the facts they relate, nor would have 
 been inclined to attempt imposing on the world by 
 such a forgery ; and since their history met with 
 that acceptance and success in the world whiei!, 
 without the support of truth, it could never have 
 found, there is abundant reason to believe it is true. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 JDod. Ten Serm. No. ix. per -tot. GastreVs Cer- 
 tainty of Christian Rev. p. 2.S0 — 272. Bp. 
 Burnet's Four Discour. p. 27 — 35. More's 
 Theol. Works, p. 223—227. Baxter's Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 110—113 ; part ii. c. vii. § 17—29. 
 Ditton on the Res. part iii. § 21 — 34. p. 251 — 
 278. Burnet on the Art. p. 69 — 64. Post, 
 against Tind. p. 135 — 137. Barrow's Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 304 — 312. Sermons on the Creed, 
 No. xxix. Bulklei/'s Economy of the Gos- 
 pel, i. 3. Hodyes'i Serm. No. viii. passim. 
 Mackniyht on the Truth of the Gasp. Hist. 
 book iii. c. ii. p. 421 — 478. 
 
 LECTURE CXXV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To the credibility of the Gospel History, some 
 have objected our Lord's not appearing in public 
 after his resurrection, which might have been the 
 most effectual method of convincing the Jews; but 
 it may be replied, 
 
 1. It is not certain the Jews would have been 
 convinced even by this, considering the great obsti- 
 nacy that people showed in a variety of instances, 
 in the Old Testament as well as in the New. Com^ 
 pare ./o/oi xii. 10, 11. 
 
 2. God is not obliged to give the highest possible 
 degrees of evidence to any revelation ; and those 
 evidences whi(;h the New Testament affirms to have 
 been given, were so considerable, both with respect 
 
370 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 to tlio luimlifi- of witnosses and the cunfiiniatioii of 
 thpir testimony by inirat-les, tliat there is no room to 
 complain, merely because one may imaj;inc how the 
 cvidenee might have been carried yet liigher ; espc- 
 eiallv if we consider how incapable the enemies 
 of Christianity seem to have been of producing evi- 
 dence on the contrary side. 
 
 3. As tlie former obstinacy of the Jew ish people, 
 and their wicked treatment of Christ, al)undantly 
 justilies this conduct of God towar;!s tiicm,— so if it 
 were to be granted tiiat they would generally have 
 believed upon Christ's public appearance among 
 them, it is diflicult to conceive how the prophecies 
 of their rejection for rejecting Christ could have 
 been fullillcd ; or that evidence for the truth of 
 Christianity preserved, which now arises from the 
 existence of the Jews as a distinct people, with the 
 records of the Old Testament in their hands. On 
 the whole, therefore, the conduct of I'rovidence in 
 this ailair is to be thankfully adored rather than 
 censured. 
 
 Woohton's 6th Disc. p. 26 — 28. Ditlon on the 
 Res. part iii. §60—67. p. 838—352. § 69, 70. 
 p. 361—368. Bp. Burnet's 4th Disc. p. 52— 
 66. Si/kes of Chris, p. 162—170. Flem. 
 Christol. vol. iii. p. 494 — 498. BtachuU at 
 Boyle's Lect. Serm. iv. p. 25, 26. Superv. 
 Serni. vol. iv. p. 9 — 12. Atterh. Post. Serm. 
 vol. i. p. 182 — 190. West an the Res. p. 
 296—304. Mackn. Harmony, p. 864 — 866. 
 Hodffcs's Serm. No. ix. Leland's View, vol. 
 i. p. 157, 158, and 295—298. Miscell. Sacra. 
 vol. ii. p. 77, 78. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is further objected, That there were but very 
 few of the Jews who believed in Christ ; and con- 
 sidering that they were the best judges of his claim 
 to be the Messiah, there is reason to suspect that 
 the evidences of it were not sufTiciently'convincing. 
 
 Ans. 1. According to the account given in the 
 New Testament, there were some considerable num- 
 bers of the Jews converted on the first publication 
 of the Gospel, and even some who were priests, and 
 consequently lay under peculiar prejudices (vid. 
 Acts ii. 41 ; iv. 4 ; vi. 7 ; xxi. 20.) ; and also those 
 texts in the epistles, which evidently refer to the 
 Judaizing Cliristians, and therefore prove that there 
 were considerable numbers of Jewisii converts. 
 
 2. That the Jewish nation in general lay under 
 very strong prejudices, especially those arising from 
 their expectation of temporal deliverance and 
 grandeur from their Messiah, the peculiar dignity 
 and privileges of their own nation, the perpetuity 
 of the Mosaic law, and the sanctity of the Scribes 
 and Pharisees, as well as the authority of their 
 dictates in matters of religion, besides those arising 
 from the wickedness and immorality of their own 
 characters in that very corrupt age; so that it is 
 
 not at all to be wondered at that they had a very 
 strong aversion to that teacher and religion, which 
 seemed so expressly levelled against those preju- 
 dices. To which we may add, that the force of the 
 argument arising from Christ'.^ miracles would be. 
 much diminished, considering the notion tiiey had 
 of tiic power of magic, and the su|)position they 
 thought they had some reason to nu»kc, tiiat a false 
 prophet might possibly work them ; of which there 
 also remain many traces in the rabbinical writings. 
 
 3. We are not to conclude that all who refused 
 to embrace Christianity remained in their hearts 
 unconvinced ; for it is certain that the severity of 
 persecution might engage many, who had not a 
 deep principle of religion, to dissemble tlie inwarcj 
 conviction <)f their own mind ; as it is expressly 
 declared many did. — John xii. 42, 43, &c. 
 
 Woohton's rith Disc. p. 48. Whitby's Cert, of 
 
 Christian Faith, e. ix. § 9, nd fin. p. 276 — 
 
 280. Burn. 4th Dis. p. 38—41, 56—58. 
 
 Whitby on Rom. ii. 1. Note b. Lardn. Test. 
 
 vol. i. c. i ; Works, vol. vii. p. I — 24. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 3. 
 
 It is further objected. That the apostles had nothing 
 to lose, and they might at least gain a subsistence, 
 and the fame of being divine messengers, by such 
 a forgery. 
 
 Ans. 1. They had at least their lives to lose, — 
 which the poorest of mankind regard as well as 
 others. 
 
 2. That if it could be supposed that persons of 
 such low circumstances and education had the most 
 eager desire of fame, they could not reasonably 
 expect to raise their reputation by such an under- 
 taking ; but, on the contrary, to expose it to the 
 greatest infamy, besides that the simplicity with 
 which they refer the honour of all they did to their 
 great Master, most evidently shows how far they 
 were from that vain-glorious temper, wliich the ob- 
 jection pretends to have been so strong in them. 
 Acts iii. 12, 13 ; xiv. 15. 2 Cor. iii. 5 ; iv. 5. 1 Cor. 
 iii. .5—7. 
 
 3. That if they had been actuated by mercenary 
 views, they might much more easily have laised 
 their fortune, by renouncing the cause they had 
 undertaken, and discovering the forgery they had 
 invented. 
 
 Baxter's Worhs, vol. ii. p. Ill, b. Limborch's 
 Collat. p. 161-163. 
 
 SCIIOI.IUM 4. 
 
 It is also objected. That tlic apostles met with 
 but little persecution among the Gentiles ; but wc 
 answer, 
 
 1. That though we acknowledge that the Romans, 
 whose maxim it was to tolerate conquered nations 
 in their own religion, were often a refuge to tlicm 
 at first, yet the Heathen populace in the several 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 371 
 
 cities of Greece and Asia to wliich they came, 
 frequently rose up against them in a tumultuous 
 manner, and exposed them to the extremest danger. 
 
 2. That considering how absolutely all Pagan 
 superstitions were condemned by Christianity, the 
 first preachers of it had great reason to believe, 
 what was indeed fact, that in proportion to the 
 degree in which tlieir doctrines came to be known 
 among the Heathens, persecutions would be raised 
 by the magistrates, and penal laws enacted against 
 them. — Vid. Prop. 101. Schol. 3. and Warhurton, 
 quoted there. 
 
 3. That the number and power of the Jews were 
 Very great in the apostles' days, not only in Judea, 
 but also in other countries ; so that, upon the whole, 
 the persecutions of the primitive Christian preachers 
 and hearers were very grievous ; as evidently ap- 
 pears from the whole tenor of the New Testament, 
 especially the following passages: — Acts v. 17, 18, 
 40 ; vii. .57—00 ; viii. 1 ; ix. 1, 2, 23, 24 ; xii. 1 — 4 ; 
 xiii. 50 ; xiv. 5, 19 ; xvi. 22, &c. ; xvii. 5, 6 ; xviii. 
 12, &c. ; xix. 29; xx. 3 ; xxi. 27, 28; xxii. 22; 
 xxiii. 14; xxvi. 10, 11. Rom. viii. 36. 1 Cor. iv. 
 9—13 ; XV. 29—32. 2 Cor. i. 8, 9 ; iv. 8—11 ; vi. 4, 
 5, 8, 9; xi. 23—27. Gal. vi. 17. Phil. i. 27—30. 
 Col. i. 11, 24. 1 Thess. i. 6; ii. 14—16. 2 Thess. i. 
 4—7. 2 Tim. i. 8 ; ii. 3, 9, 10 ; iii. 11, 12. Heb. x. 
 32—34. James ii. 6 ; v. 10, 11. 1 Pet. ii. 19—21 ; 
 iii. 14—17; iv. 1, 12—16. Rev. ii. 10, 13; iii. 10. 
 
 Lard. Cred. part i. lib. i, c. viii. pras. p. 225 — 
 229, 250—264 ; Works, vol. i. p. 164—201. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Some may perhaps think that if such miracles as 
 the Christians pretend had really been wrought in 
 proof of their religion, it would have been impossi- 
 ble tiiat it .should not have met with an earlier and 
 more general regard in the world. So far as the 
 Jews are concerned in this objection, it has been 
 considered above ; and so far as it relates to the 
 Gentiles only, it may be answered, 
 
 1. That it evidently appears in fact, that many of 
 the pagans had at that time but a very low opinion 
 of miracles, and paid but little regard to them. Mr. 
 Weston has entered largely into several causes that 
 might contribute to this ; especially the many ridi- 
 culous pretences that were made to them by the 
 professors of divination, and the pretences to oracles 
 and magic ; to all which the multitude and inter- 
 community of their gods would not a little contri- 
 bute. 
 
 2. That where any regard was paid to them, (though 
 if there had been a fair and candid examination, it 
 must .soon have appeared that those which were 
 pretended to as countenancing heatljcni.sm, were by 
 no means, in point of evidence, comparable to those 
 by which Christianity was supported,) yet the strong 
 prejudices that would lie against it as a new religion, 
 and especially as a religion so opposite to men's 
 
 2 B 2 
 
 secular interests and sinful passions, would prevent 
 a careful and impartial inquiry; and so would 
 dazzle their eyes, and make them prone to disre- 
 gard the gospel, notwithstanding its miracles were 
 allowed. 
 
 3. That the great discouragements under which 
 Christianity lay, while the empire was in the hands 
 of the Pagans, would no doubt engage many to 
 smother the secret conviction of their minds in its 
 favour ; but when Constantino declared himself a 
 Christian, most of the opposition against Chris- 
 tianity ceased ; which might in many be owing to 
 the dictates of conscience, as being persuaded of 
 the truth of that religion, though in others it might 
 be only a conformity to an establishment. 
 
 Weston's Inq. into the Reject, of Christian Mir. 
 pass. pras. c. iii. p. 17 — 79. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 As for those objections which Dr. Tindal has 
 brought against the moral character of the Apostles, 
 in some instances, they are circumstantially confuted 
 by Dr. Foster, Dr. Lcland, and others who have 
 written on the other side the question. 
 
 Tind. on Chris, p. 220, 221. Post. ay. Timl. 
 p. Ill — 1.32. Lcland, ib. vol. ii. c. ii. 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 The objections which Mr. Woolston has advanced 
 against several miracles related in the New Testa- 
 ment, in his discourse on the miracles of Christ, 
 have been sulTicicntly answered by almost all his 
 antagonists; the most valuable of which arc Mr. 
 Stephenson, Dr. Lardner, Bp. Pearce, and the 
 author of the Trial of the Witnesses. An abstract of 
 their most curious and important thoughts may be 
 seen in our notes on the Harmony of the Evange- 
 lists, on those texts which he has excepted against, 
 Stonehouse's Account of the Controversy.* 
 
 LECTURE CXXVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CIX. 
 Many material facts, which are recorded in the 
 Old Testament, arc also mentioned by very ancient 
 Heathen writers, 
 
 ♦ For a general treatise in defence of the Christian Miracles, we refer 
 to tlu- Criterion, a worli published in 1764, without a name; bntwhicli 
 is known to liave been written l)y Dr Douglas, the present Hisliop of 
 Salisbury. The design of this work is to show, with regard to Pagan 
 and Popish mir.n li s, that they wore sm h events as were either in their 
 nature n.,t miraeuloiis, or in their evirtenre not true; whereas the 
 niirarles of the Christian Revelation arc in their nature miraculous, and 
 from theirevidtnre true. It is to he regretted that the book is become 
 scarce, With rcsiicct to the rcsuriection of our Saviour, the two trea- 
 tisesofMr. Humplirey DiUon and Mr. Giilierl West dcwrve particular 
 attention : to which may be added Di . IViestley's Sermon on the 
 Ktsurrection, preached al Buxton. For a roii.Mcliralion of the manner 
 ill which the Kvaiigelisis Imve related the ( ircunistames of the resurrec. 
 tioii, see, in additir.n to West, Hensoir-s \ iew of the Evidence of Christ's 
 Hesurreetion, iVIaeknighfs Harmony, Dr. Lardner's Remarks on ditto, 
 and Bishop Ncwcome's Review of the chief DitTiculties in the Gospel 
 lli.^tory relaliiiK to onr I.'ird's Resurrection, 
 
37-2 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 DEMONSTHATION. 
 
 1. The Heathens had a tradition anion'; tliciii 
 concerning the original of tlie world, which bore 
 some visible resemblance to the account which 
 Moses has ftiven of it ; particularly the Ph(x nicians, 
 Indians. Kgvptians, Greeks, and Romans; and 
 thouiih tlicv diller considerably from Moses, as lo 
 the time of the (Creation, we have formerly shown 
 tlieir accounts to be in this respect extravagant and 
 incredible. Vid. Piop. iX. Dem. t/r. 2. 
 
 Cumberland's Saiichoniutlton, p. 1 — 23. Bur- 
 net's Archwol. lib. i. e. i — vi. lib, ii. c. i. 
 Itay's '3 Disc. No. 1. c. i. Ovid's Met. lib. 
 i. Grot, de Verit. with Le Clerc's Notes, 
 lib. i. 0. xvi. p. 26 — 40. Univ. Hist. vol. i. 
 p. 11—17, fol. ; p. 23—34, 8vo edit. 
 
 2. The division of time into weeks has long pre- 
 vailed, not only among the inhabitants of Greece 
 and Italy, as vvc learn from Josephus, Philo Bib- 
 lius, Clemens Alexandrinus, and Lucian, but also 
 among the Celtyn and Indians, as Pliilostratus, 
 Dion Cassius, and .Justin Martyr assure us; and 
 whicli w e may further learn from the ancient names 
 of the seven days. 
 
 Grot. ibid. p. 41, 42. Poll. Hist. Anc. torn. iv. 
 p. 41G, French, Selden de Jure N. et Gent. 
 lib. iii. c. xvi — xxiii. prces. c. xvi. et xix. 
 
 3. Diodorus Siculus, Plato, Dicacarchus, Calanus 
 the Indian philosopher, quoted by Strabo, and 
 others quoted by Maimonides, and several other 
 writers, mention a state of innocence, and the fall 
 of man ; to which it is probable w e arc to refer 
 what so many w riters say of the Golden Aye : nor is 
 it an improbable conjecture that the worship of 
 serpents, which has prevailed among so many 
 Heathen nations, may have some reference to that 
 form, in which Moses tells us the tempter appeared 
 to the first human pair. 
 
 Grot. ibid. p. 42, 43. Burn. Arch. lib. ii. e. ii. 
 iii. Rev. exam, ivith Cand. vol. i. p. 80, 81. 
 Jenk. on Christian, vol. ii. p. 246 — 248. 
 Still. Org. Sac. p. 516 — 518. Owen on Serp. 
 Diss. iv. V. p. 216—232. 
 
 4. The long lives of men in the early ages of the 
 world, are mentioned by Berosus, Manetho, Hiro- 
 mus, and Hclanicus, as also by Hesiod, and many 
 other writers quoted by Josephus, and afterwards 
 by Servius, in his Notes on Virgil. 
 
 Grot. ibid. p. 44. Jos. Ant. lib. i. c. iii. ^ 9. 
 
 5. The account w'hicli Pausanius, Pliilostratus, 
 Pliny, and several other writers, give us of the 
 remains of gigantic bodies which have been found 
 in the earth, serve in some degree to confirm 
 Moses's account of the antediluvian giants. 
 
 Grot. ib. p. 45. Pliny's Nat. Hist. lib. vii. c. 
 XV. Solinus, c. i. with Salm. note, p. 9. An- 
 imal Register for 1764, part ii. p. 106, 107. 
 
 6. Berosus, the Chaldean historian, quoted by 
 Josephus, and Abidenus by Eusebius, Plutarch, 
 Lucian, Molo, Nicholas Damascenus, as well as 
 many of the Heathen poets, mention the Deluge ; 
 and some traditions concerning it are to be found 
 among the Americans and Chinese ; not to mention 
 w hat some modern travellers have fabulously related 
 coiK-erning some ruins of the ark, said to remain on 
 mount Ararat, and to have been seen there but a 
 few centuries ago. 
 
 Grot. ib. p. 47 — 52. Ray's 3 Disc. No. ii. c. i. 
 Saurin's Diss. vol. i. p. 131 — 134. Still. 
 Orig. Sac. lib. iii. c. iv. ^ 8. Univ. Hist. vol. i. 
 p. 112, fol.» 
 
 We may add under this head, (that we may not 
 break the order of all that follow,) that Alexander 
 Polyhistor quotes Artapanus and Rupolcmus, as 
 mentioning the Tower of Babel ; and the former 
 speaks of it as built by Belus. (Eus. Prerp. Evan. 
 lib. ix. c. xviii.) Abydenus likewise (ibid. e. xiv.) 
 and Hestiicus (16.) mention the same building, with 
 something of the circumstances attending the dis- 
 appointment of that enterprise. 
 
 7. Diodorus Siculus, Strabo, Tacitus, Pliny, and 
 Solinus agree in giving us an account of the de- 
 struction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the neigh- 
 bouring cities, in the main agreeable to that of 
 Moses ; the truth of w hich is in some measure eon- 
 firmed by what modern travellers of the best credit 
 have related concerning the phenomenon of the 
 Dead Sea ; and Alexander Trallianus mentions a 
 Kealhen form of exorcism, " In the name of the 
 God that turned Lot's wife into a pillar of salt." 
 
 Tacit. Hist. lib. v. c. vii. Whitby's Cert, of 
 the Christian Faith, p. 36 — 39. Pliny's Nat. 
 Hist. lib. v. c. xvi. lib. xxxv. c. xv. Solimts, 
 c. xxxvi. with Salm. note. Grot. ib. p. 58, 
 50. Maundrel's Trav. p. 83—85. Univ. 
 Hist. vol. i. p. 576, 577, fol. 
 
 8. Herodotus, Diodorus, Strabo, Pliilo Biblius, 
 and some others, mention circiancision as a rite 
 used by several of those nations into which, accord- 
 ing to Moses, Abraham travelled, or which were 
 descended from him, especially by Hagar and 
 Kcturah ; and if the hypothesis of a late learned 
 author be admitted, that the Egyptians derived it 
 from the Ishmaelite Shepherd-kings, it will be 
 equally to the present purpose. Vid. Prop. 104, 
 Sehol. and the references there. 
 
 Grot. ib. p. 59, 60. Saur. Diss. vol. i. p. 216, 247. 
 
 9. Berosus, Alexander Polyhistor, (from Eupole- 
 mus and Melo, more ancient writers than himself,) 
 Damascenus, Artapanus, and other ancient histo- 
 rians cited by Josephus and Eusebius, make express 
 
 ♦ Many curious traces and evidences of the remembrance of tlie 
 Deluge, among the Heathens, are scattered through Mr. Jacob Bryant's 
 great work, entitled, A new System, or an Analysis of Ancient 
 Mythology. This work is only referred to as what will hereafter 
 merit the notice of the literary student. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, ANJ) DIVINITY. 
 
 373 
 
 and honourable mention of Abrabani and some of 
 his family, as some of them do also expressly speak 
 of his interviews with Melchisedek. To which 
 we may add the account given of him by Trogus 
 Ponipeius as abridged by Justin; nay, Josephus 
 tells us that Htecataeus wiote a whole book of 
 Abraham's life. 
 
 Jos. Ant. lib. i. c. vii. § 2. Just. lib. xxxvi. 
 c. ii. Mill. Prop, on Christian, vol. i. p. 114, 
 115. Eus. Prap. Evan. lib. ix. c. 17 — 23. 
 
 10. Besides the express testimony concerning 
 Moses, Prop. 104. which may properly be referred 
 to this proposition, there are also many fabulous 
 stories of Tlioth, Typhon, Hermes, and others, in 
 which many celebrated writers have endeavoured to 
 prove that such traces of his histoiy are to be found, 
 as show he was the person represented under that 
 variety of names. 
 
 Heut. Dem. Evang. Pr. iv. c. iii. p. 49 — 68. 
 Dacier on Hor. lib. i. Od. x. Mill. Prop. 
 Christian, vol. i. p. 167 — 169. Wits. /Egypt. 
 lib. iii. c. iv. per tot. Jacks. Cred. part ii. 
 § 2. e. viii. ix. apud Op. vol. i. lib. iii. c. 14, 
 15. Warh. Div. Leg. vol. i. lib. iii. § 3. p. 
 354 — 358. vol. i. part ii. p. 130 — 135. 
 
 11. Eupolemus and Dius, as quoted by Eusebius 
 and Grotius, mention many remarkable circum- 
 stances of David and Solomon, agreeing with the 
 Old-Testament story ; and Herodotus has a remark- 
 able though much controverted passage, supposed 
 to refer to the destruction of the Assyrians in the 
 reign of Hezekiah, in which he mentions Sennache- 
 rib by name. 
 
 Eus. Prap. Ev. lib. ix. c. 30—34, and 39 — 41. 
 Jos. Antiq. lib. viii. c. ii. Contr. App. lib. i. 
 p. 1340. Millar, ibid. vol. i. p. l-2;3— 127. 
 Prid. Con. vol. i. p. 25. Herod. Hist. lib. ii. 
 c. 141. 
 
 12. As for the mention of Nebuchadnezzar, and 
 some of the succeeding kings of Babylon, as well 
 as of Cyrus and his successors, it is so common in 
 ancient writers, as not to need a more particular 
 view of it. 
 
 1 — 12. 13. Valet propositio. 
 
 SCHOLrUM 1. 
 
 It would be very easy to prove, that many pas- 
 sages of the Old Testament are mentioned by 
 Celsus, and objections against Ciiristianity formed 
 i:pon tliem ; but he comes too late to be esteemed 
 a witness to them ; and all that can be inferred from 
 those passages is, that he had read the Old Testa- 
 ment, probably in the Greek version of it, and that 
 he knew Christians paid a religious regard to it ; — 
 neither of which facts are at present in question. 
 
 SCIIOI.U'M 2. 
 
 It may not i)e improper here to mention the monu- 
 ment wiiich Procopius mentions as found in Africa, 
 
 testifying " that they had (led from the face of the 
 robber Joshua, the son of Nun ; though tliat coming 
 through the hands of a Christian writer, and of one 
 who lived so vei-y long after Christianity was intro- 
 duced, it did not seem so convenient to insert it 
 among the preceding testimonies. 
 
 LECTURE CXXVII. 
 
 PROPOSITION ex. 
 The History of the Old Testament is in the main 
 worthy of credit. 
 
 DEMONSTR.^TION. 
 
 Prop. 106, 107. 1. The books of the Old Testa- 
 ment received by the Reformed, (of which alone we 
 speak,) are genuine. 
 
 1. 2. Many of the writers of the Old Testament 
 have given us an account of things, in which they 
 were themselves personally concerned, v. g. ISIoses, 
 Joshua, Samuel, Ezra, Nehemiah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, 
 Ezekiel, Daniel, and several of the minor prophets ; 
 and consequently they were capable of giving us a 
 true account of what they represented, as having 
 fallen within their own observation and experience. 
 
 3. There are great marks of integrity in their 
 writings, not only as they tell their very amazing 
 Story with great simplicity, and without apology, 
 excuse, digression, &;e. but as they every where 
 write with the deepest sense of God upon their 
 spirit, regarding him as the Author of all events, 
 whose moral as well as natural perfections they 
 every where celebrate, and in "whom they seem to 
 liave reposed the confidence of their souls, seeking 
 his favour above all, and referring their actions to 
 his glory : they do also most candidly acknowledge 
 their own faults, and the faults of the greatest heroes 
 of their history ; — and as for Moses, whose credi- 
 bility is of the greatest importance to support all 
 the rest, his leaving his family in the circumstances 
 of common Levites, without entailing any peculiar 
 honours or possessions upon them, is as strong a 
 proof of his uprightness as could well be imagined. 
 Jacks. Cred. p. 20 — 38. 4to ; apud Op. vol. i. 
 lib. i. c. iv. p. 15—28. 
 
 3. 4. There is no reason to believe they would 
 attempt to impose upon us, at least unless we can 
 lind that they were under some strong temptation 
 to have attempted it. 
 
 5. Considering the time in which their writings 
 were publisiicd, and also the public and remarkable 
 nature of many of those events which are there re- 
 corded, and how many witnesses there must have 
 been to the falsehood of them, if they had been 
 false, they could expect no advantage by attempting 
 to impose upon tlie world by such forgeries, nor could 
 they have reaped any thing but contempt from it. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 371 
 
 /*)•()/). lot. (). Ncvoithi-lcss, wc (iiul tlial thtii 
 writings were itHH-ivcil as orcdihic hy those who 
 were the most capable of judfjiiifj in the case, iiiul 
 those institutions submitted to (on the authority of 
 these fads) which would otherwise have appeared 
 very unreasonable and very ftrievous. 
 
 12, 1, 5, 6. 7. Tliere is reason to believe that the 
 History of the Old Testament is true, so far as tlie 
 authors wrote it upon tlieirown personal knowledfje. 
 
 8. As for the history of remoter a^es, murh mi<;)it 
 be known of it by tradition, consideriufj the Ion;;- 
 lives of the first men ; at least all that was neces- 
 sary misht be learnt by revelation, to vvliich we well 
 know that Moses pretended ; and there is such an 
 evident and close connexion between what was 
 written by Moses and otlier persons mentioned, (jr. 
 '2. upon their own knoivlcdffr, and what tliey or otliers 
 wliose nanu's are not certainly known have written 
 in the Old Testament upon tradition or revelation, 
 that lie who believes the former to be credible, will 
 easily admit the latter, especially considerinp; that 
 it is one leadinj? fact of the history, that Moses 
 himself was instructed in so extraordinary a manner 
 by God. 
 
 Prop. 109. 9. The agreement tlierc is between 
 many facts recorded in the Old Testament, and the 
 testimony of many Heathen l)i.storians of consider- 
 able note, is a further evidence in favour of its 
 credibilit}'. 
 
 7, 8, and 9. 10. The History of the Old Testa- 
 ment is in the main credible. Q. E. D. 
 
 Bonnet on Script, p. 116, 117. Mill. Prop. v. 
 i. p. 87, 88, 94 — 99. Burnet on the Art. p. 
 83. Still. Grig. Sac. lib. ii. c. ii. § 1, 2, 7—9. 
 c. iii. §1,2. Williams at Boi/le's Lect. p. 
 119 — 121. Jenkins on Christianity, part ii. 
 c. iii. vi. xi. vol. i. p. 132, &c. 151, &c. 296, 
 &e. Leland against Tind. vol. ii. p. 38 — 42. 
 chap. ii. p. 30—33. 2d edit. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The great ignorance of those Latin and Greek 
 writers wliich now remain, as to facts which hap- 
 pened very long before their own time, and the 
 peculiar contempt which several of them had for 
 the Jewish nation, arising from the diversity of its 
 customs and institutions, concur with some other 
 considerations mentioned Prop. 99. Schol. 2. to 
 answ er any objection wliich might be raised against 
 the credibility of the Old-Testament History, from 
 the silence of such writers as to many important 
 articles of it. 
 
 Jenkins's Peas, of Christianity, vol. i. p. 9.5, 
 96. Leland's View, vol. ii. p. 286 — 294. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 2. 
 
 We do not particularly mention the supposed 
 absurdities to be found in some parts of the history, 
 because they do not affect the truth of tlie m hole ; 
 
 and « ill inueh more piopeily be considered as ob- 
 jcetioiis against its inspiration. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, as we have before proved that it is 
 no absurd thing that God should make a revelation 
 of some things before unknown {Prop.i)3.) ; and as 
 the main body of the .Jewish story is taken up in 
 giving an account of such revelations, the propo- 
 sition must lay a reasonable foundation for our be- 
 lieving that series of prophecies, — which will be the 
 subject of the two next propositions. 
 
 LECTURE CXXVIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXI. 
 Many Prophets of the Old Testament foretold a 
 variety of events, which it was impossible they 
 should have foreseen, merely by the force of their 
 natural genius and sagacity. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Immediately after the flood, Noah foretold the 
 infamy and servitude of the descendants of Cainan, 
 and the conversion of several Gentile nations de- 
 scended from .laphet, i. e. the Europeans, to the 
 worship of the true God, who stood in a peculiar 
 relation to the Jews, as descended from Shem. — 
 Gen. ix. 25—27. 
 
 Cunib. Orifj. Gent. p. 427. Whisl. Scr. Proph. 
 p. 104 — 108. Bp. Netvt. Diss, on Proph. 
 vol. i. Diss. i. p. 9 — 36 ; Works, vol. i. p. 
 13 — 27. Jen. Jew. Ant. vol. i. p. 10, &c. 
 
 2. The servitude of the Israelites in Egypt, their 
 deliverance from thence, and the extensive do- 
 minion they afterwards obtained, w ere exactly fore- 
 told to Abraham. Gen. xv. 13 — 21. 
 
 3. Tlie character and fate of the Ishmaelites was 
 in the most amazing manner foretold to Hagar, 
 Gen. xvi. 12. which is accomplished even to this 
 day, as the Arabians still remain an unconquered 
 people, remarkable above any other for their fierce- 
 ness and rapine. 
 
 Rev. exam. vol. ii. Diss, iv. p. 114 — 152. Vniv, 
 His. vol. XX. Newt. Diss. vol. i. Diss. ii. p. 
 37—63 ; Works, vol. i. p. 28—41. Revel, 
 exam. v. ii. Diss. iv. Jacks. Tr. of Scr. p. 
 156—168. «/). Op. vol. i. c. 25, 26. p. 115 — 
 123. 
 
 4. The contests between the Edoniites and the 
 Israelites, with the success of them, were foretold 
 to Rebekah, before her cluldren were born, and 
 afterwards by Isaac to his children themselves, 
 with some further circumstances. — Gen. xxv. 23. 
 xxvii. 39, 40. 
 
 Newt. Diss. vol. i. Diss. iii. p. 64 — 84 ; Works, 
 vol. i. p. 42—53. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 376 
 
 6. Many remarkable events, not only relating to 
 himself and his family, but the whole Egyptian 
 nation, were in a wonderful manner predicted by 
 Joseph. — Gen. xxxix — xli. 
 
 6. Various surprising circumstances relating to 
 the settlement of the twelve tribes in Canaan, and 
 the occurrences to befall some of tliem there, were 
 foretold by Joseph upon his dying bed. — Gen. 
 xlviii. xlix. 
 
 S/terl. on Prop/i. p. 341—343. Vid. Patrick or 
 Pyle in Loc. Utiiv. Hist. vol. iii. p. 314 — 32.5. 
 
 7. The obstinacy and ruin of Pharaoh, the de- 
 liverance of the Israelites from his kingdom, and 
 their serving God at Mount Sinai, were discovered 
 to Moses, Exod, iii. 11, 12. not to mention the 
 prediction of each of the ten plagues, immediately 
 preceding the execution of them. 
 
 8. Many remarkable circumstances relating to 
 Israel and the neighbouring nations were foretold 
 by Balaam. — Numb. xxiv. 15 — 25. 
 
 Newton, ib. Diss. v. p. 114 — ^155 ; Works, ibid, 
 p. 68—90. Whist. Proph. p. 214—221. 
 
 9. The various dispensations of God towards 
 Israel in future ages, as well as the circumstances 
 oftheir settlement in their own land, though decided 
 by the contingency of lots, were foretold by Closes ; 
 and their national revolt from God, their destruc- 
 tion by the Romans, with the calamities afterwards 
 attending them, and continuing upon them in part 
 even to this day, have been, and are, a most remark- 
 able accomplishment of the express predictions of 
 their illustrious prophet. — Deut. xxxi. 16. &c. 28 — 
 30; xxxii. xxxiii. xxviii. pra>s. v. 49. 
 
 Jacks, ibid. c. 0, 11, 13. p. 131, &c. 174, Sec. 
 Ap. Op. vol. i. lib. i. c. xxiii. p. 92. c. xxvii — 
 xxx. p. 123— 1.5G. 
 
 10. The calamity of Eli's family, and the trans- 
 ferring the priesthood to the descendants of Eleazar, 
 were foretold by Samuel and other prophets. — 
 1 Sam. ii. 31—30 ; iii. 11—14. 
 
 11. The birth of Solomon, his extraordinary pros- 
 perity, and that of the Israelites under him, to- 
 gether with the settlement of the crown on his 
 descendants, was foretold by Nathan to David. — 
 1 Chron. xxii. H — 10. 
 
 12. The revolt of the ten tribes from tiic house of 
 David, was foretold by Abijab to Jeroboam, before 
 there appeared any probability of if, i. e. in the 
 mid.st of Solomon's prosperity. — 1 Kings xi. 29 — 38. 
 
 13. The destruction of Bethel and its idolatrous 
 priests, was foretold as to be accomplished by 
 Josiah, who was named on this occasion .300 years 
 before his birth : as w ell as the destruction of the 
 family of Jeroboam for bis continual idolatry ; as 
 also the captivity of Israel beyond the Euphrates, 
 then a very distant and very improbable event.— 
 1 Kings xiii. 2, 3; xiv. 10—16. 
 
 14. The famine in Israel, their deliverance from 
 the repeated invasions of the As.syrians, the death 
 of Ahab, and ruin of his family by Jehu, with 
 several other events in the reign of Ahab, were 
 foretold by Elijah and other prophets. — 1 Kings 
 xvii — xxii. 
 
 15. The relief of Samaria, when pressed by a 
 siege, the exaltation of Jehu and Hazael, and the 
 victory of Israel over the Moabites, beside^ several 
 private and personal events, were foretold by Elisba. 
 2 Kings vii — ^xiii. 
 
 LECTURE CXXIX. 
 
 16. The deliverance of the Jews from the con- 
 spiracy of Rezin and Pekah, and afterwards the 
 defeat of Sennacherib, and the captivity of the Jews 
 in Babylon, were all foretold by Isaiah ; as the last 
 event was also by Jeremiah, Hosea, and many other 
 prophets. 
 
 17. The deliverance of the Jews from the Baby- 
 lonish captivity, as to be accomplished by Cyrus, 
 (though an event quite unparalleled in its kind,) 
 was foretold by several of the prophets, and par- 
 ticularly by Isaiah, who named Cyrus many years 
 before he was born ; and the very date of that 
 deliverance was fixed by Jeremiah to 70 years from 
 the beginning of the captivity. — Isa. xliv. 24 — 28 ; 
 xlv. 1 — 4. Jer. xxv. 11, 12; xxix. 11. Dan. ix. 2. 
 Zech. vii. 5. 
 
 18. The calamities which fell upon the Tyrians, 
 the Sidonians, the Egyptians, the Ethiopians, the 
 Edomites, the Moabites, the Ammonites, the Syrians, 
 the Arabians, and many other nations, were express- 
 ly foretold by Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Amos, and 
 several other prophets ; and above all, the destruc- 
 tion of Babylon, w ith such particular circumstances 
 as are really aslonishing, and such a prediction of 
 its utter desolation as, humanly speaking, seemed 
 impossible when the prophecies were delivered, 
 and even long after their publication in the world, 
 considering the greatness and magnilicence of that 
 city. 
 
 Si/kes's Con. c. viii. p. 139. Kol. Aiic. Hist. 
 vol. ii. p. 232, Fr. 
 It may be added under this head, that the easy 
 conquest of Egypt by Nebuchadnezzar, so beauti- 
 fully described Jer. xliii. 12. and its final abase- 
 ment, Ezek. xxx. 13. are events, considering the 
 extraordinary grandeur of Egypt at that time, and 
 the great confidence of its princes, extremely won- 
 derful in their correspondence with that prediction. 
 
 lioK. ib. vol. i. p. 175. 
 The exact accomplishment of the above-men- 
 tioned predictions is well illustrated by Dr. Pri- 
 
370 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 <leiui\ ill Iiis Con)ii.rio)i, and by Dr. Well.s in his 
 notes on tin- minor prophets, and many otlier w riters. 
 
 IS). The siiecession of the Assyrian, Persian, 
 (ireeian, and Roman nionareliies, several particular 
 cireumstances in the history of the Ptolemaida;, 
 anil Seleueida', the persecution of the Jews under 
 Antiochus Epiphanes, and even the erection of the 
 Papal kingdom, are foretold by Daniel, Dan. ii. 
 V. vii. viii. xi. xii. ; and tliat part of them relating 
 to the former article is well illustrated by the writers 
 quoted under the last step, as those relating to the 
 latter are by Sir Isaac Newton, in his book on the 
 prophecies ; (on which also sec Whiston's remarks ;) 
 and in some measure by Lowman on the Revela- 
 tions. See tliose passages in the several volumes 
 of Rollin's Ancient History, which particularly 
 relate to these prophecies, vol. vi. p. 270 and 289 ; 
 vol. viii. p. 417 and 583, Fr.* 
 
 20. Those prophecies which relate to the king- 
 dom of the Messiah, and the various circumstances 
 v.hicii would attend his appearance, are so con- 
 siderable, lliat we shall make them the matter of a 
 distinct proposition, and therefore wave the men- 
 tion of them here. Sijlces's Con. c. viii. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 If the genuineness and credibility of the books 
 of the Old Testament be allovvcd, wc have here a 
 most certain proof of the divine foreknowledge of 
 future contingencies, — since there are some things 
 foretold which depended as much as any thing we 
 can imagine upon the volition of free agents : and 
 if it be said, as it is by Mr. Colliber and some 
 others, that God had determined to render those 
 events necesstiri/, and upon that determination fore- 
 told thcni, it is to be considered that some of the 
 events mentioned above, especially (jr. 2, 7, 0. arc 
 as criminal as any we can imagine ; and in some 
 of those instances are foretold by God as crimes, 
 which he would severely punish on those who were 
 the agents in them ; which plainly shows that they 
 were not necessarily determined, nor their account- 
 ableness in that instance suspended, as Mr. Colliber 
 supposes. Where considerable bodies of men are 
 concerned in the prediction, which is the case in 
 some instances above, the difficulty on this hypo- 
 thesis is still greatly increased ; and indeed it is 
 difficult to say how God could determine upon such 
 supposed necessitating influences as fit, unless (con- 
 trary to this hypothesis) he foresaw those circum- 
 stances that would render them so. 
 
 * BcsiJes tlie references already made to Bisliop Newton's Disserta- 
 tions on tlie Prophecies, recourse may in general be bad to liim for an 
 illustration of many of the topics liere mentioned.— See particularly 
 vol. 1 p, I7G, to tbe end; vol. ii. p. I ; Works, vol. i. p. 101 ; ib p 
 286. Ttie prophecy contained in the eleventh chapter of Daniel is 
 particularly illustrated hv M. Abauzrit.-See his tracts as translated bv 
 Dr. Hanvood, p. 248. Mr. Zoncli, in his Inquiry into the I'roplictiral 
 Character of the Romans, as described in Daniel, has particularly 
 applied to that people the 23d, 24tli, and 25th verses of^ tlie eithth 
 chapter " 
 
 Co/lib. Iiiij. p. 92. Stiurin's Serin, vol. i. p. 
 199. cd. 3. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Such a series of prophecies as is here described, 
 is a very evident proof of the peculiar presence of 
 God with the Jewish nation; which is further evi- 
 denced by the many signal miracles wrought in 
 confirmation of it. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 The accomplishment of many of these prophecies, 
 and especially of those relating to the Christian re- 
 ligion, and to events which happened after the time 
 of Christ, docs evidently prove the genuineness and 
 credibility of the books in which they are contained : 
 and it is to be considered as an argument for them, 
 independently on those urged before. Prop. 107, 
 108. for none can with the least show of reason 
 pretend they were forged since Christ's appearance ; 
 and it is most evident that there is such a connexion 
 between one part of the Old Testament and another, 
 and such a mutual dependence, that the whole his- 
 tory must in the main be credible, if those parts of 
 it arc allowed to be true in which these prophecies 
 arc to be found, especially the books of Isaiah and 
 of Daniel. 
 
 Vid. Si/hcs uhi sup. Hartley on Man, vol. ii. 
 Prop. 30. p. 150. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The arguments brought against the genuineness 
 of the book of Daniel, are proposed and fully con- 
 futed in the following references. 
 
 Col. Lit. Sell. p. 149. Bullock's Vind. p. 181. 
 Chand. Vind. Dan. pass. Newt. Diss. vol. ii. 
 Introd. p. 1 ; Works, vol. i. p. 275. Lard. 
 Test. vol. iii. c. xxxvii. § 3, 4 ; Works, vol. 
 viii. p. 184. 
 
 LECTURE CXXX. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXU. 
 
 To collect the chief of those Old-Testament Pro- 
 phecies which most evidently relate to the Mkssiah 
 and his kingdom. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. It was foretold by many of the prophets, that 
 the knowledge of the true God should be extended 
 from Jerusalem over the whole earth ; and that 
 Pagan idolatry should be entirely, or in a great 
 measure, suppressed by it. — Psalm xxii. 27; Ixxxvi. 
 9. Isa. ii. 1— .5, 17, 18; xi.9 ; xlv. 22, 23. Jer. x. 11. 
 Zcph. ii. 11. Mai. i. 11. Bulloch's Vind. p. 73. 
 
 2. Immediately after the fall, as recorded by 
 Mo.ses, intimation was given of some person to 
 descend from the woman, so as to be called her seed, 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 377 
 
 who should triumph over the enemy that v<inquished 
 them, though he should himself receive some 
 damage comparatively small. — Gen. iii. 15. 
 
 Chand. Mir. p. 275. Sherl. on Proph. p. G6. 
 
 Col. Lit. Scfi. p. 231. Rev. ex. with Caud. 
 
 vol. i. p. 47. Midd. Posth. Works. 
 
 3. It was foretold to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 
 that all nations should he blessed in their seed ; which 
 may naturally signify, that a person to descend from 
 them should be a blessing to mankind. — Gen. xii. 
 3; xxii. 18; xxvi. 4 ; xxxviii. 14. 
 
 4. Jacob on his dying bed speaks of some victo- 
 rious person, unto whom the people should be 
 gathered, whom he calls Shiloh, declaring that he 
 should appear before Judah ceased to be a tribe. — 
 Gen. xlix. 10. 
 
 Sherl, on Proph. Diss. iii. pass. Mede's Diat. 
 in hoc. Newt. Diss. vol. 1. No. iv. p. -8.5; 
 Works, V. 1. p. 63. Jen. Jexo. Ant. v. 1. p. 76. 
 
 b. Moses speaks of a prophet like unto himself, 
 who should be raised up with such proof of divine 
 authority, that all who rejected him should be re- 
 jected and destroyed by God ; which could not 
 refer to a succession of prophets, since it is expressly 
 said that none of them were like Moses. — Deut. 
 xviii. 18—20 ; xxxiv. 10. 
 
 Coll. Lit. Sch. p. 239. Jef. true Gro. p. 128. 
 
 Harrison 3Iess. Serni. vii. p. 199. Slierl. on 
 
 Proph. p. 187. Bulloclis Serm. in Loc. p. 
 
 220. Jort. Rem. on Eccl. Hist. vol. i. p. 19C. 
 
 Newt. Diss. vol. i. No. vi. p. 156; Worhs, 
 
 vol. i. p. 90. 
 
 6. David foretells a person, who should be owned 
 by God as his Son, to whom universal dominion 
 over the Heathens should be given, and who should 
 punish with utter destruction all that should refuse 
 to submit to his government. Psa. ii. pass. He 
 speaks also of an illustrious and victorious person, 
 whom he calls his Lord, that should likewise be a 
 priest for ever, after the order of Melchisedeh, Psal. 
 ex. ; and this is probably the same glorious Person 
 whom he elsewhere calls God, and of whom he says 
 much more than could be applied to Solomon, or 
 any other temporal prince, both with regard to the 
 excellency of his character and the extent and per- 
 petuity of his kingdom. Psal. xlv. puss, and Ixxii. 
 pass. pras. ver. 7, 8, 11, 13, 14, 17. To which add 
 Psal. xxii. 26—31. which, if it be allowed to refer 
 to the same event, then the former part will also 
 api)cara prediction that this glorious person .should 
 suffer, with circimistances remarkably fullilled in 
 the death of Christ. See also 2 Sam. xxiii. 1 — 7. 
 which relates to the glorious reign of the Just One 
 over men, and expresses the final destruction of 
 those that oppose his kingdom, as well as the bless- 
 ings given by an everlasting covenant to those that 
 should be his faithful subjects. 
 
 Grey's Last Words of Dav. Jort. Rem. vol. i. 
 p. 183. 
 
 7. Isaiah speaks of an extraordinary child, who 
 should be born of a viryin, of the house of David, 
 whose name should be called Inmianuel, who 
 should grow up from infancy to manhood, who 
 should also bear many other illustrious titles, which 
 speak him to be more than human ; who should be 
 most eminent for w isdom and piety ; and finally, 
 who should establish a most successful and perma- 
 nent kingdom by very peaceful and gentle methods. 
 — Isa. vii. 14, &c. ; ix. 5—7 ; xi. 1—10 ; xlii. 1^7. 
 
 Collins on Gro. &c. p. 61. Chand. on Mir.Tp. 
 261. Green's Lett, to Coll. No. iv. pass. 
 Dod. Fam. Exp. vol. i. p. 39. note. Kennic. 
 on Isaiah vii. 14. Williams's Obs. on ditto. 
 
 8. God foretold his purpose of laying a founda- 
 tion-stone in Zion, whereby all that trust in him 
 should be saved, when others should find that their 
 shelter was swept away by storms of the divine 
 vengeance. — Isaiah xxviii. 16 — -18. 
 
 9. Isaiah likewise foretold an extraordinary ap- 
 pearance of God, which should be attended with 
 the miraculous cure of the blind, the lame, the deaf, 
 and the dumb, and introductory to a state of ex- 
 traordinary holiness and everlasting joy. — Isa. xxxv. 
 3—10. 
 
 10. The same prophet also foretold the coming of 
 One, who should from the wilderness prepare the 
 way for an extraordinary divine appearance, and 
 bring tidings of a most gracious and compassionate 
 Shepherd. — Isa. xl. 1 — 11. 
 
 11. Isaiah afterwards, speaking of a person to 
 whom the characters r/r. 1 , 7, 9. do so evidently agree, 
 that we cannot doubt but it is the same mentioned 
 before, adds, that he should be rejected and abhorred 
 of the Israelites ; and afterwards, speaking of a 
 person to whom the same characters do belong, fore- 
 tells his being rejected and wounded, mentions his 
 silent submission under his suflferings, and at length 
 his death and burial. — Isa. xlix. 1 — 11 ; Hi. per tot. ; 
 liii. 1—9. 
 
 Collins' s Lit. Sch. c. V. § 12. p. 208. Bp. Chand. 
 on Chris, p. 178, 147, ed. 2. Harris's Rem. 
 pass. Burn. Life of Roch. p. 140. Bullock's 
 Vind. p. 147. 
 
 12. Neveithelcss, in the same period he prophe- 
 sies of the exaltation and glory of this remarkable 
 person, and the success of his cause in the world ; 
 which evidently implies his resurrection from the 
 dead. Isa. liii. 10, 12. — See writers quoted above. 
 In the following chapter he describes a most 
 gracious and important covenant to be made with 
 Jews and Gentiles by him, and such universal pro- 
 posals of pardon and grace, as would by multitudes 
 be accepted to their great advantage and complete 
 happiness. — Isa. liv. Iv. per tot. 
 
378 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 13. He does afterwards, in a very pathetic iiiaii- 
 nor, deseribe tlie w ickedness and ruin of the Jewish 
 nation, foretells nevertheless its recovery and pros- 
 perous state, in the most exalted style, as ellected 
 by that servant of God, whom Le had for that pur- 
 pose anointed w ith his Spirit in an extraordinary 
 manner. — Isa. lix. Ix. Ixi. and Ixv. 
 
 14. Jeremiah prophesies of a ric;htcous and vic- 
 torious prince, to he raised up out of the house of 
 David, whose name should be called the Lord our 
 Itiyhteoxtsness ; which most naturally implies that, 
 by means of him, his people should be made 
 righteous by God, through the provision of the di- 
 vine mercy. — Jer. xxiii. 5, 6 ; xxxiii. 14 — 16. 
 
 15. The same prophet evidently speaks of a new 
 covenant to lie made with Israel, which sliould eon- 
 tain extraordinary provision for divine instruction 
 and the pardon of sin, beyond what had been made 
 by the Mosaic religion. — Jer. xxxi. 31 — 34. agree- 
 ably to tlic tenor of which it is elsewhere by this 
 prophet foretold, that a plan of religion should be 
 given to God's people, of which the regard then 
 paid to the ark of God, the great centre of their 
 ceremonial worship, should make no part, when all 
 the nations of the world should be incorporated 
 with the Jews, and a lasting reformation should be 
 introduced. — Jer. iii. 16 — 18. 
 
 16. Ezekiel speaks of one yreat Shepherd, whom, 
 long after the death of David, he calls by the name 
 of that prince, who should be a means of conferring 
 on his people such blessings as Isaiah and Jere- 
 miah had before described. — Ezek. xxxiv. 23 — 31 ; 
 xxxvii. 23—26. 
 
 17. Daniel foretells a glorious kingdom, which 
 (>od would erect on the ruins of the four grand 
 monarchies, under the command of one wlioni he 
 calls the Son of Man, whose empire, though arising 
 from small beginnings, should be both universal 
 and eternal. — Dan. ii. 34, 35, 44, 45 ; vii. 13, 14. 
 
 Sj/kes on Chris, c. ii. p. 12. 
 
 LECTURE CXXXI. 
 
 18. Daniel afterwards foretells that in seventy 
 weeks, i. c. probably 490 years after the going out 
 of the commandment to rebuild Jerusalem, which 
 seems to refer to that given in tlie seventli year of 
 Artaxerxes Longinianus, reconciliation should be 
 made for iniquity, and an everlasting righteousness 
 brought in by one, whom he calls Messiah the 
 Prince, who should be cut off, i. e. put to death, 
 without any demerits of his own ; after which the 
 city of Jerusalem should be destroyed, and the 
 sacrifices made to cease ; yet not till he had con- 
 
 firmed his covenant with many of his people. — Dan. 
 ix. i t— 27. 
 
 Prid. Con. vol. i. p. 262. Bull. Vind. lib. ii. c. 
 iv. § 6. p. 184, &e. pras. p. 216. Coll. Lit. 
 Sch. c. v. § 8. p. 173. IUvre's Theol. Works, 
 p. 204. Mann's Diss. p. 93. Clarke at 
 Boyle's Lcet. p. 427. Sir I. Newt, on Proph. 
 part. i. c. X.* 
 
 19. Joel foretells an extraordinary eflusion of the 
 Spirit of God in the latter day, in which all that 
 called on the name of the Lord should be saved, and 
 extraordinary deliverance should be wrought out in 
 Mount Zion and Jerusalem. — Joel ii. 28 — 32. 
 
 Chand. on Joel, ib. et Diss. 
 
 20. Micah repeats part of Isaiah's prophecy of 
 the glorious and peaceful kingdom that God would 
 erect in the latter day, and afterwards expressly 
 mentions Bethlehem Ephratah, as the place from 
 whence the Ruler should go forth, w ho should be 
 the illustrious Shepherd not only of the Israelites, 
 but other most distant people. ^ — Mieah. iv. 1 — 5; v. 
 2 — 4. 
 
 21. Haggai prophesied, that during the time that 
 the second temi)lewas standing, which was not en- 
 tirely demolished till the Roman captivity, (though 
 in Herod's time gradually rebuilt,) God would 
 shake all nations, i. e. produce surprising revolutions 
 in them ; and the desire of all nations should come 
 into his temple ; on account of which, the glory of 
 it should be greater than that of the former house, 
 though in external ornaments it was so much in- 
 ferior. — Hag. ii. 6, 9. 
 
 Peirce on Heh. xii. 26. p. 190. Bp. Chand. on 
 Chris, p. 86, 71. ed. 2. Lit. Sch. p. 120, See. 
 Gill on the Proph. p. 42. L'Enf. Intr. to N. 
 Test. p. 14. Bullock's Vind. p. 177. Berrim. 
 at B. Lec. vol. ii. Ser. xiv. prfcs. p. 41. 
 
 22. Zechariah twice mentions a person whose 
 name was the Branch, i. e. probably who had been 
 foretold by Isaiah and Jeremiah underthat cliaracter, 
 (vid. Isa. xi. 1. Jer. xxiii. 5; xxxiii. 15.) on whom 
 the eyes of God should be set with peculiar care, 
 who should build the temple of God, and bear the 
 glory, and remove the iniquity of Israel in one day, 
 and appear as a priest on his throne, (peihaps in 
 allusion to Psal. ex. 4.) restoring under liis adminis- 
 tration peace and happiness. — Zeeh. iii. 8 — 10; vi. 
 12, 13. Lowth in Loc. 
 
 23. The same prophet foretells the appearance of 
 a meek Prince, who, in token of the gentleness of 
 his administration, should, at Jerusalem, ride on 
 an ass : he is described as the person who, taking 
 
 * Two eminent critir? have lately cxertod tlieir talents upon tlie 
 projiliery of llie Seventy Wcelis. The first is Michaelis, in liis Eplsto- 
 l;e dc I, XX. Ililjiioniadilins Danielis, ad D. Joanncm I'riiisle, Bain- 
 netum. The other is Dr. lilayney, in a Dissertation hy Way of Inriniry 
 into the true Iu)i)ort and Application <jl' the Vision related Dan. ix. 
 ver. 20, to tlie end, usually called llaniel's Prophecy nf Seventy Weeks. 
 Dr. Blayney has made some occasional remarks on Micliaelia's Letters. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 370 
 
 off the Jews from their forbidden confidence, should 
 speak peace to the Heathen, and erect an universal 
 empire, maicing a covenant by blood, whereby 
 miserable sinners should be delivered from destruc- 
 tion. — Zech. ix. 9 — 12. 
 
 Chanel, on Christ, p. 102. Lit. Sch. p. 143. 
 Bull. Vind. p. 175. Sherl. 4th Diss. 
 
 24. The same prophet afterwards predicted an 
 extraordinary effusion of the Holy Spirit upon the 
 Jews, which should bring them in a better manner 
 to lament him whom they had pierced, and should 
 be attended with ample provision made by divine 
 grace for their pardon. — Zech. xii. 10 — 14 ; xiii. 1. 
 
 Chand. ib. p. 107, 88. ed. 2. Lit. Sch. p. 146. 
 
 25. Malachi speaks of a Messenger of the cove- 
 nant, w ho should bring the Jews to a strict trial ; of 
 a Son of Riffhteousness, who should arise, and whose 
 appearance should be introduced by a person, who, 
 in the language of prophecy, is called Elijah, i. e. 
 probably one in whom his spirit should eminently 
 appear. — Mai. iii. 1^ — 4 ; iv. 2 — 6. 
 
 Chand. ib. p. 63. Lit. Sch. p. 113. Bui. Vind. 
 p. 180. Jefr. on Chris, p. 351. 
 
 26. From comparing these prophecies one with 
 another, it appears that they all centre in one illus- 
 trious Person ; both as the language in which the 
 deliverance is foretold by several of them is so 
 much the same, and as there is no mention made of 
 a succession of such deliverers, or a plurality, 
 whose kingdom should be extensive and perpetual ; 
 to Mhich we add, what wc shall more largely show 
 in the Scholium, that there was a very universal 
 expectation of a Messiah, raised in consequence of 
 these predictions. 
 
 1—26. 27. The sum of the whole is this, The 
 prophecies of the Old Testament foretell that there 
 should be a glorious Person, descended from Abra- 
 ham, Isaac, and Jacob, who should be born at 
 Bethlehem, of a virgin, of the family of David then 
 in its decline, before the Jews ceased to be a people, 
 while the second temple was standing, and about 
 500 years after Ezra's time ; who, though appearing 
 in mean circumstances, should be introduced by a 
 remarkable forerunner, whose business it should be 
 to awaken the attention and expectation of the 
 people: He (/. e. this illustrious Person so to be 
 introduced) should himself be eminent both for the 
 piety, wisdom, and benevolence of his character, 
 and the miraculous works he should perform ; yet 
 that, notwithstanding all this, he .should be rejected, 
 and put to death by the Jews, but should afterwards 
 be raised from the dead, and exalted to a glorious 
 throne, on which he should, through all generations, 
 continue to rule, at the same time making inter- 
 cession for sinners; that great calamities should 
 for the present be brought on the Jews for rejecting 
 him, whereas the kingdom of God should by his 
 
 means be erected among the Gentiles, and did'u.sc 
 itself even to the ends of the earth, wherever it 
 came, destroying idolatry, and establisliing true 
 religion and righteousness. In a word, that this 
 great Person should be regarded by all who believe 
 in him as a Divine Teacher, an atoning sacrifice, 
 and a royal governor, by means of whom God 
 would make a covenant with his people very differ- 
 ent from that made with Israel of old, in conse- 
 quence of which they should be restored to, and 
 established in, the divine favour, and fixed in a state 
 of complete and perpetual happiness. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lect. p. 390. Butl. Anal. 
 
 part ii. e. vii. p. 250. Euseb. Dem. Evany. 
 
 lib. vi — ix. Jortin's Rem. vol. i. p. 170. 
 
 Hodffes's Serm. No. ix.* 
 
 LECTURE CXXXII. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence it evidently appears that there was in the 
 Divine Mind a purpose of raising up a glorious 
 Prince, called the Messiah, to reign over mankind, 
 and likewise of exciting a great expectation con- 
 cerning him before lie appeared in the world. 
 
 Hurd on Proph. No. ii. p. 41, ad fin. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Hence it will appear probable, considering the 
 nature of prophecy in general, togctlier with those 
 express predictions mentioned above, that there 
 might likewise be a reference to the Messiah in 
 some of those passages, in which the prophets speak 
 in their own person, and describe extraordinary 
 distress or glory in terms literally ajiplicable to the 
 Messiah, (comparing other prophecies,) and only 
 figuratively to themselves ; and it might be the 
 wisdom of Providence so to order matters, that 
 many eminent persons in the Jewish state should 
 in some matters resemble the Messiah, and many 
 deliverances granted to the Jews should represent 
 the great deliverance expected from him. This 
 may be the foundation of types, and for what may 
 seem a double sense of some prophecies ; which 
 double sense is not to be understood, as if a pro- 
 phecy equally and indillerently referred to many 
 persons or events ; or, as if literally referring to a 
 lower person, it was only figuratively and allegori- 
 cal ly to be interpreted of the Messiah (for a passage 
 only capable of being accommodated to him is not 
 
 * Dr. Gregory Rhnrpe, in liii Second Argument in Defence of Chris- 
 tianity, taken from the ancient Prophecies, has sliown their application 
 to the most remarkable events in the life and character of Jesus Clirist ; 
 and this he has done withont having recourse to double senses. His 
 aceouiit, likewise, of the prophets, and of the scliools of the prophets, 
 is wortliy of notice.— See also. Baker's Messiah, passim. Another 
 recent writer on tlic subject is Dr. East Apthor]), in liis Discourses on 
 I*rophecy. 
 
380 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 hy any means a |)ro<liction of him); 1)iit it is fo l)e 
 so explaiiu'il, as that it may appear the Messiah 
 was principnlhi intended, and the prophecy litcral/i/ 
 referred to him, thoup,li it mip;lit in jiart be ai>i)lie(l 
 to that other person that typilied hin> ; and niijilit 
 have been understood as referrin<>; to that inferior 
 person alone, if further lii-lit liad not been tiirown 
 upon it, by eonipariii}; oilier propheeies, or by the 
 testimony of those whom, on other aeeounts, \vc 
 have reason to rejjard as authentie interpreters. 
 Nevertheless, it must be aeknow ledg-ed tliat, thou«;h 
 tracing the ^Icssiah in such prophecies as these, 
 may serve to illustrate the unity of design, which 
 (as we before observed. Prop. 97. 5.) is a con- 
 siderable additional proof of the truth of a revela- 
 tion, yet the main stress is to be laid ujion such 
 propliecies as those mentioned in the proposition, 
 rather than on those in which the prophets personate 
 him. Yet, when some of these (as Psal. xvi. xxii. 
 xl. Ixix. Zech. xi. \2, 13, Sec.) arc compared with 
 parallel places in the Old Testament, and corre- 
 spondent facts recorded in the New, it is more 
 reasonable to own that the sufferings and death, 
 resurrection and exaltation, of the Messiah were 
 cbielly designed in them, than to consider the 
 appeal made to them in the New Testament, as an 
 objection against the truth of Christianity ; how far 
 they are an objection against the inspiration of the 
 New Testament, is a distinct point, and will after- 
 wards be considered in Prop. 116. Sc/tol. 7. 
 
 Bar. Works, vol. ii. p. 205. Jeff. Rev. p. 97. 
 
 Chand. on Mir. part ii. c. viii. p. 255. Har. 
 
 Crit. Rem. 4to, p. 80. Whist, on Prop/i. at 
 
 I). Lcct. p. 13. Mudge's Pref. to Psalms. 
 
 Hurd's Serm. on the Prophecies, No. iii. 
 
 Jort. Rem. vol. i. p. 183.* 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 That so many prophecies looking to the Messiah, 
 and centring in him, and which at least seem to 
 be fulfilled in Jesus of Nazareth, and so naturally 
 tend to promote the Christian cause, should yet be 
 extant in the Old Testament, is a plain argument 
 that it is a book of an extraordinary character, and 
 likew ise that it has in the main been kept uneor- 
 ruptcd by the Jews, though, through negligence or 
 design, some few passages should be altered ; for 
 had they allowed themselves any great liberty with 
 it, they would probably have taken care to destroy 
 or change such passages as have been quoted in the 
 propositi'; n. 
 
 * Dr. Ilurd is a viudicator of .the double seiise of propliecy ; and 
 Ijisliiip Liiwth displays mucli ingenuity on tlie sime side of the ques. 
 tion, ill his Ijectures on the sucred Poesy of the Hebrews.— Vnl. I'ra-- 
 Iccl. xi. l)e Allegoria Mysticu, p. IJ.i. ed. 3. Dr. Sykes li.id many 
 years before contended against a dnulile interpretation of the pro- 
 iiliccies, ill his Ess;iy on the Trutli of tlie C'hnstiaii Relijrion, and in 
 Ills I'rineiples and Connexion of .Natural und Ilevealcd T{eli;i;ioii. Dr. 
 lienson, in his Es.say conecrninj; the Unity of Sense, li.is endeavourecl 
 to show, at large, that no text of Scripture has more than one single 
 Muse.— Benson on the Epistles, vol. i. Introd. p. xix— xliv. 2J edit. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It further appears, especially from the Scriptures 
 enumerated in the lirst step, when eompaied with 
 several jiassages in those that follow, that the 
 Messiah is not in Scripture rei^resented as a tem- 
 poral deliverer of the Jews alone, by whom the 
 (Jentile nations were to be enslaved and destroyed, 
 — but as a uiii\ersal friend, teacher, and benefac- 
 tor, by whom they were to be brought to true reli- 
 gion aiul happiness. 
 
 Mor. Phil. vol. i. p. 328, &e. Chapm. ay. 
 Morg. vol. i. p. 485. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 It further appears, as above, that in order to re- 
 concile those prophecies with each other, some of 
 tlie expressions must be taken in a figurative sense ; 
 or that what is said of the conquests of the Messiah, 
 or the destruction of the enemies of the Jews, 
 must be understood of tlie punishments to be in- 
 flicted upon those who, when the Jews become 
 subjects to him, should rise up against them. 
 
 Chapm. ib. p. 500. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 For the illustration of what has been hinted at, 
 Dem. gr. 26. it may be observed, that there are 
 several texts in the New Testament, whence it evi- 
 dently appears that there was among the Jews, 
 about Christ's time, an actual expectation of the 
 speedy appearance of the Messiah, though too many 
 of them regarded him as a temporal deliverer. Matt, 
 ii. 2—6. Luke ii. 25, 26, 38 ; iii. 15. John i. 19— 
 25 ; vi. 14, 15 ; x. 24. Luke xix. 11. Acts xxvi. 
 
 7. Some have thought that some traces of such an 
 expectation are also to be found in earlier ages, 
 1 Mae. iv. 46 ; xiv. 35, 41, 48. Eceles. xxxvi. 6, 
 
 8, 12—17. (compare Luke i. 68—73.) xliv. 21, 22. 
 Tobit xiv. 5 — 7. Baruch iv. 22. As to the express 
 references to the Messiah in the second book of 
 Esdras, (ii. 42 — 47 ; vii. 28, 29.) we wave them, be- 
 cause it is certain that book was either entirely 
 forged, or interpolated long after the Cliristian acra. 
 The many insurrections of the Jews about Christ's 
 time, under impostors professing themselves the 
 Messiah, do further show that there was such an 
 expectation among them, w hich was also common 
 to the Samaritans, who apprehended he would be a 
 prophet as well as a king. — Compare John iv. 25, 
 29, 42. 
 
 There are also some remarkable passages in 
 Josephus, Philo, Tacitus, Suetonius, and Celsus, 
 which show that such an expectation prevailed in 
 some degree even among Heathen nations ; and 
 many have supposed there is a reference to the 
 fourth Eclogue of Virgil ; where there are indeed 
 many things nearly parallel to those of the pro- 
 phets, in which the glorious reign of the Messiah 
 is described. Such expectations might possibly 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 381 
 
 arise from the dispersion of Greek translations of 
 the Old Testament.* 
 
 As for those prophecies of Christ, which are pre- 
 tended to have been found in the books of Zer- 
 dusht, (of which none is more memorable than that 
 quoted by Abulpharagius,) there is little dependence 
 to be had upon them, considering the uncertainty 
 of the oldest Persian manuscripts from whence they 
 are said to be taken, as well as the late date of 
 Abulpharagius. Neither can we much depend 
 upon Confucius's pretended prophecy of him among 
 the Chinese ; nevertheless, it seemed not improper 
 to mention them here. 
 
 Bp. Chand. Def. Chris, p. 3. Trav. of Cyrus, 
 
 vol. ii. Appen. part. ii. pass, and p. V27. 8vo ; 
 
 p. 300, &c. 12mo. Lard. Cred. part i. lib. i. 
 
 c. V. p. 280 ; Worlis, vol. i. p. 131. Col. 
 
 Lit. Scft. c. i — iv. Hyde Rel. Pers. c. xxxi. 
 
 p. 382. Tavern. Voy. vol. i. p. 484. lib. iv. 
 
 c. viii. Conf. Scien. Sinica, Pref. p. 120. 
 
 Jort. Rem. vol. i. p. 294. Lampe's Syn. 
 
 Eccl. Hist, lib. iv. ad ult. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 As for the Sybilline Oracles, which are said to 
 have been preserved among the Romans with so 
 much care, there is great reason to believe they 
 were political forgeries; and it is certain that those 
 which are now extant were forged by some Chris- 
 tian writer, after the events there foretold had hap- 
 pened, — since those events are much more plainly 
 described there than in any Jewish prophet, which 
 we can hardly imagine, especially since the apostle 
 tells us, Rom. iii. 2. that the oracles of God were 
 committed to the Jews, and never made any appeal 
 at all to the Sybilline oracles for the conviction of 
 the Gentiles. Yet we allow it very possible, that 
 among the collections which were made after the 
 first copies were burnt, some passages miglit be 
 inserted from Jewish writings, (from whom it is 
 certain many tilings were borrowed by the heathens.) 
 and probably it is to such passages as these that the 
 earliest of those Christian writers alluded, when 
 they mentioned the Sybilline oracles, before the 
 time in whicli we can suppose those now extant to 
 have been invented. 
 
 W/iist. Vin. Sib. Or. pass. Prid. Con. vol. ii. 
 
 p. 620. Edw. on Scr. vol. i. p. 317. Jip. 
 
 Chand. Def. p. 10. Obsop. Sib. Orac. p. 18G. 
 
 Jort. Rem. ib. p. 283. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 As to the endeavours which have been used to 
 enervate the argument in favour of Clirisfianity, 
 drawn from the prophecies mentioned in the propo- 
 sition, by showing that they are capable of other 
 senses from which the Messiah may be excluded, — 
 
 ♦ Some injenioin observations conreniins llic Pollio of Virgil, may 
 be scrn in Lowlirs Lectures, before referred to, p. 289. 
 
 see the places referred to as glossed upon by Collins 
 in his Grounds and Reasons, &c. and the Literal 
 Scheme, and the Commentaries of White, and Gro- 
 tius, who have studied to strain almost all these to 
 some other sense ; and some of them in so unnatural 
 a manner, as greatly to establish the interpretation 
 they would oppose. 
 
 SCHOLll'M 4. 
 
 The most considerable objection brought against 
 applying these prophecies to the Messiah is, that the 
 prosperity of the Jews, and their return to their 
 own land, is foretold as an event to be accomplished 
 by him, whereas no such event is yet accomplished. 
 See, amongst many other places, Ezek. xx. 34 — 44 ; 
 xxxvi. 24, 28; xxxvii. 21 — 28. Amos ix. 11 — 15. 
 Zech. xiv. 9 — 11. 
 
 To this (besides what is said Cor. 5.) it is an- 
 swered, 
 
 1. That their being rejected for a time is likewise 
 foretold, and their being delivered over to the hands 
 of their enemies. Vid. pr. 13, 18. 
 
 2. That Christians expect a restoration of the 
 Jews in the latter days, upon their believing in 
 Christ, Rom. xi. 11, Sec. ; and none can reasonably 
 pretend that their restoration is to precede their faith 
 in him. 
 
 3. That the preservation of the Jews as a distinct 
 people, notwithstanding all their dispersions, leaves 
 evident room for the accomplishment of these pro- 
 phecies ; and is so remarkable a fact, especially 
 when their moral character is considered, and so 
 well agrees with the predictions of the Old Testa- 
 ment and the New, as to lay a reasonable founda- 
 tion for expecting their fullest restoration in God's 
 appointed time. 
 
 Clarke at B. Lect. p. 431. Litnb. Coll. cvm 
 Jud. p. 70. Berrim. at B. Lect. vol. i. Sertn. 
 xi. p. 326, 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Whereas some tliink it strange that the prophecies 
 which seem most expressly to fix the time of the 
 Messiah's coming, (such as Gen. xlix. 10. Hag. ii. 
 6. Dan. ix. 26.) are nowhere urged in the New 
 Testament, it may be answered, 
 
 1. That it could not have been made appear that 
 the period marked out by them was entirely elapsed, 
 during the time in which mo.st of the apostles wrote, 
 the sceptre not being quite departed, nor the temple 
 or city destroyed. 
 
 2. That it might have exposed the apostles to 
 additional inconveniences in their work, to have 
 entered nicely into the discussion of some of tliesc 
 prophecies; as some would have engaged them in 
 tedious calculations, of which the common people 
 were not capable judges, and others in civil con- 
 troversies between them and the Romans, which it 
 was prudent as far as possible to decline. Yet it 
 is to be remembered that Christ, when quoting a 
 
382 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 |)art of Onnid's jirnplicoy of the seventy weeks, 
 stronnly intimates that the whole of it was wortliy 
 of special regard. — Matt. xxiv. 15. 
 
 Sj/kes's C/iris. e. xvi. p. 2^.)7. 
 
 LECTURE CXXXIII. 
 
 PROPOSI TION CXIU. 
 Jests is wortliy of beitift received as a Icnchcr 
 sent from G'od, with entire credit to all his declara- 
 tions, and obedience to all his commands. 
 
 Emlyn's Life, p. Ixxvii. Ixxviii. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 112. 27. 1. Many of the most remark- 
 able ])ropheeies relating to the person, state, and 
 condition of the Messiah, had a remarkable accom- 
 plishment in him ; for it appears from the history of 
 the Evangelists, that he was born of a virgin de- 
 scended from Abraham, in the decline of the Jewish 
 state, a little before the destruction of Jerusalem, 
 and the second temple, by the Romans ; that he 
 w as a most w ise, holy, and excellent person, going 
 about for the kindest purposes, of instructing men's 
 minds, and healing their bodies, till at last he was 
 put to death by the Jews as a malefactor ; neverthe- 
 less, that he was on the third day raised from the 
 dead, and ascended into Heaven ; from whence he 
 poured forth an extraordinary Spirit upon his fol- 
 lowers, whereby they were enabled to perform many 
 surprising works, and to propagate the worship of 
 the one God and the practice of true religion, even 
 among many of the remotest nations- — That such 
 tilings were fact concerning Jesus of Nazareth, 
 appears from the whole tenor of the evangelical 
 story, which w e before proved to Ije credible, Prop. 
 108. 
 
 Prop. \\2. 2. The Jewish prophets intermingled 
 with their predictions such encomiums on the per- 
 son in w hom they should be accomplished, and such 
 attestations of his divine mission, as must recom- 
 mend him to the highest regard and humblest obe- 
 dience : particularly speaking of him, as God's 
 servant, whom he anointed to publish glad tidings, 
 whom all men should be obliged to hear ; as a king, 
 who should finally triumph over all opposition, and 
 should bring a secure and lasting blessing to all 
 his faithful servants. Vid. Prop. 112. c/r. .5, G, 8, 
 12, 14— IG, 22, 23. 
 
 3. To the former head we may properly add the 
 testimony of Anyeh, and of persons of the most 
 eminent sanctity about the time of his appearing, 
 who are said expressly to have the spirit of pro- 
 phecy ; particularly of Gabriel, in his message to 
 Mary, Luke i. 32, 33. and in that to Joseph, Matt, 
 i. 20, 21. compare ver. 23. Elizabeth, Luke i. 43. 
 
 Mary, ib. ver. 47, &c. Zceliariah, ib. ver. 68, &,c. 
 the Angel to the shepherds, Jjuke ii. 10, 11. Simeon, 
 ver. 2<), &c. Anna, ver. 38. and John the Baptist, 
 Malt. iii. 11. John i. 29; iii. 27—36. 
 
 4. The Jewish religion was constituted in such a 
 manner, that there were many institutions in it 
 which bore so remarkable a resemblance to circum- 
 stances relating to (Mirist in the New Testament, 
 that they could not but in some degree confirm his 
 claiin, and show, on the one hand, the harmony be- 
 tween the Old Testament and the New ; and, on 
 the other, how mueli Christ was the end of both. 
 On this head, the abode of God in the Jewish tem- 
 ple, the sacrifices there presented, the purifications 
 appointed, and the intercession made by the high 
 priest, were remarkable circumstances, worthy of 
 regard, as some other more particular ceremonies 
 also were, especially those relating to the jntschul 
 lamb. 
 
 Wits. EeoH. Feed. 1. iv. c. ix. § 35 — 58. Loti m. 
 Heb. Rit. part iii. c. iii. p. 3G0, ad Jin. 
 
 5. The New Testament assures us that Christ was 
 perfectly innocent and good. Vid. 1 Pet. i. 19 ; ii. 
 22; iii. 18. 1 John ii. 1 ; iii. 5. 2 Cor. v. 21. Heb. 
 iv. 15 ; vii. 2G, 27. which he also publicly asserted 
 of himself, John viii. 29, 46. The imputations 
 thrown on his character appear to have been false 
 and malicious ; nor did any of the most inveterate 
 enemies of Christianity, particularly Celsus and 
 Porphyry, deny the innocence of his life : and the 
 silence of Judas as to any accusation against him, 
 nay, the express testimony he bore to his innocence, 
 though he so intimately knew his circumstances, 
 and had so strong an interest to have aspersed and 
 ruined bis character, is an important illustration of 
 this, which is set in a most just and beautiful light 
 by lionar on the character and conduct of Judas.* 
 
 Yet our Lord declared himself to be such a person 
 as the proposition describes, and solemnly attests 
 the absolute necessity of regarding him as such. 
 John iii. 18; viii. 12,24. Luke xix. 27. Mark xvi. 
 16. 
 
 Chapm. ag. Mory. vol. i. p. 241, note. Ducli. 
 pres. Evid. Serm. 1. Har. on Man, vol. ii. 
 Prop. 34. p. 167. 
 
 6. Christ foretold many things which he could 
 not liavc foreseen by human prudence, which there- 
 fore plainly argued a divine revelation of them to 
 him, considering how expressly they were afterwards 
 accomplished. Particularly such as these : His 
 own death, with the various circumstances of it. 
 Matt. xvi. 21 ; xx, 18, 19; xxvi. 23,31, &:c. Mark 
 
 * The Mr. Bonar here mentioned was a Scottish clerfynnan, who pub. 
 lishcil at Eiliubursh, in the year 1750, a pamphlet, without his name, 
 entitled, Observations oti the Character and Conduct of Judas Iscariot, 
 It is now become scarce. The testimony of Judas is briefly touched 
 upon liy Dr. Benson, in his History of the Lite of Jesus Christ, and by 
 Dr. Craitr, in his F.ssay on the same subject. In the Theological Re. 
 pository, vol. iii. No. li. is an Essay on the History and Cliaracter of 
 Jiidas. See also No. xiv. vol, ii. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 383 
 
 X. 33, 34; xiv. 30. John iii. 14, 15; xii. 32, 33. His 
 own resurrection on the third day, or, which accord- 
 ing to the Jewish manner of speaking was equiva- 
 lent to it, after three days and three nights. (Com- 
 pare 1 Kings XX. 29. 2 Chron. x. 5, 12. Luke ii. 
 21. Esth. iv. 16; v. 1. Exod. xxiv. 18.) 
 
 Chand. Witri. Re-exam. p. 14. Dodd. Fam. 
 Exp. vol. i. p. 384, note. 
 
 Matt. xvi. 21 ; xii. 40 ; xxvi. 32 ; xxvii. 63, G4. 
 John ii. 18 — 21. His ascension into Heaven, John 
 vi. 62; XX. 17. The mission of the Spirit on his 
 disciples, to enable them to perform miraculous 
 works, John xv. 26 ; xiv. 12, 16, 17, 26; xvi. 7, 13. 
 Mark xvi. 17, 18. Luke x. 18, 19; xxiv. 49. Acts 
 i. 8. The persecution of his apostles. Matt. x. 
 16 — 22. John xvi. 2. Matt. xxiv. 9, 10. The man- 
 ner of Peter's death, John xxi. 18, 19. That Jeru- 
 salem should be destroyed and trodden undo/ foot 
 by the Gentiles ; that its destruction should be sig- 
 nified by several remarkable prodigies ; that false 
 prophets and false Christs should come ; that the 
 temple itself should be entirely demolished ; and 
 that unheard of calamities should befall the Jewish 
 nation. Matt. xxiv. Mark xiii. Luke xxi. And 
 finally, he foretold the extraordinary success of the 
 gospel in the world, over all the opposition it should 
 meet with, Matt. xiii. 31 — 33 ; xvi. 18 ; xxiv. 14. 
 John XV. 16. Compare Matt, xxviii. ult. The accom- 
 plishment of all these predictions sufficiently ap- 
 pears from the history of the New Testament, from 
 Joseph us and Eusebius, and many other unexcep- 
 tionable witnesses, amongst whom some heathens 
 are to be reckoned ; particularly Tacitus, ( Hist. lib. 
 V. c. xiii.) Celsus, ( Orig. against Cels. lib. vii. p. 
 .339.) and Ammianus Marcellinus, lib. xxiii. sub. 
 init. apud Dod. Ten Serm. p. 295 ; which last refer- 
 ence relates to that illustrious fact of the miracu- 
 lous interposition of Providence to defeat Julian's 
 malicious project of rebuilding the temple at Jeru- 
 salem, thereby to confute our Saviour's prophecy of 
 its continuing desolate : a circumstance set in the 
 most convincing and beautiful light in Warburton's 
 Julian, part. i. pass. On this head we might also 
 mention Christ's discovering secrets present or past, 
 particularly to Nathaniel and the woman of Sa- 
 maria, John i. 48 — 50 ; iv. 17, 18. 
 
 Whilh. Gen. Pref. vol. i. § 12, ad Jin. Whilb. 
 
 Ann. on Matt. xxiv. Til/. Serm. vol. iii. p. 
 
 547. Limb. Coll. cum Jud. p. 46. Clarke at 
 
 B. Lect. p. 386. Allix. Ref. vol. ii. p. 246. 
 
 Jenh. on Chris, vol. i. p. 25. Jort. Rem. vol. 
 
 i. p. 20. Hodges s Serm. No. 10.* 
 
 - Our Saviour's proplieries relating to Uic (leslnirtion of Jtrusnlem 
 an amply considered by Dr. Newton, in his IStli, I'JIli, 20tli, and 'ilst 
 Dissert.ilions, vol. ii. p. 199; Works, vol. i. p. 392. Dr. Lanlncr is 
 likewise very copious upon tlie subject. Kcc his JewiMi and lltatlifii 
 Testimonies, vol. i. chap. iii. p. 40 ; Works, vol. vii. p. ?M. ^Vith re- 
 gard to .luliau'9 project of rebnildin!? the temple of Jerurakni, Dr. 
 I.ardner lias some curious observations in his Testimonies, vol. iv. p. 
 K, Works, vol. viii. p. 376. 
 
 7. Christ wrought a long series of various public 
 and uncontrolled miracles ; v. g. turning water into 
 wine ; feeding thousands with a very small quan- 
 tity of provision ; casting out devils ; cleansing 
 lepers ; giving sight to the blind, hearing to the 
 deaf, speech to the dumb, limbs to the maimed, and 
 in some instances raising the dead ; quieting tem- 
 pests by his command ; and at length raising himself 
 from the dead, and ascending into Heaven. — See 
 the whole history of the Evangelists. 
 
 Arnoh. adv. Gent. lib. i. p. 26. Lect. Instit. 
 lib. iv. c. XV. Leland ug. Tind. vol. ii. p. 
 81. Chapm. ag. Morrj. vol. i. p. 248. Bulch- 
 ley's Econ. of the Gosp. book i. c. iv. Hodycs's 
 Serm. No. v. p. 92. 
 
 8. Our Lord often made express appeals to these 
 miracles, in proof of his divine mission, John v. 
 36; X. 24, 25, 37, 38; xiv. 11 ; xv. 24. Mark ii. 
 10. Matt, xi, 4, 5, 20, &c. John xi. 15. which by 
 the way shows how much Dr. Chandler is mistaken, 
 in saying that our Lord, in appealing to his miracles, 
 only argues with the Jews upon their own prin- 
 ciples, as upon the foot of miracles they acknow- 
 ledged Moses while they rejected him. 
 
 Chand. on Mir. p. 36. Chapm. ag. Morg. vol. 
 . i. p. 257. 
 
 9. His disciples also wrought miracles in his 
 name, to prove him to be such a person as the pro- 
 position describes, expressly declaring that to be 
 the purport of those miracles. — Acts ii. 32 — 36 ; 
 iii. 12, 13, 16 ; iv. 9—12. Rom. xv. 18, 19. 
 
 10. Christ was declared to be the Son of God by 
 a voice from Heaven, at his baptism, and his trans- 
 figuration, and in effect again afterwards, i. e. a 
 little before his death. — Luke iii. 22. Matt. xvii. 5. 
 2 Pet. i. 17, 18. John xii. 28. 
 
 11. The proposition is further illustrated by the 
 new star which appeared at his birth, the angels 
 which brought the tidings of it, the prodigies at- 
 tending his death ; among which, the darkness said 
 to be mentioned by Phlegon, and the rending the 
 rock, (the marks of which are still said to remain,) 
 are particularly worthy of consideration. 
 
 Whiston, Syhcs, and Chapm. of Phlcg. Test. 
 Flem. Chris. \o\. ii. p. 97. Maund. Truv. p. 
 73. .S'rturf. 7V(7!'. lib. iii. p. 164. Lard. Jew. 
 and Heath. Test. vol. ii. c. xiii. ; Works, vol. 
 vii. p. 370. 
 
 To which may be added his visible ascension, 
 and his glorious appearance to Paul at his conver- 
 sion, as well as to John in the island of Patmos, in 
 a form so nearly resembling that in which God 
 manifested himself to the prophets of old. Com- 
 pare Ezek. i. 26—28. Dan. vii. 9. with Rev. i. 13, 
 15. Pilhingt. Harm. Diss. i. § 22, 
 
 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11. 12. Seeing that 
 Christ was described in the Old-Testament pro- 
 
384 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 pliccics, and represented under its types, as a per- 
 son worthy of the hi-iliest regard ; sceinjc proplietic 
 .persons renewed this testimony at tlie time of his 
 appearanec ; sccinij he wliosc character was per- 
 fectly innocent and holy declared himself to be so, 
 and God bore witness to it, by tlie prophetic <;irts 
 he gave him, and otlier miraculous powers where- 
 with he endued both Christ and his disciples, as 
 well as by a voice from Heaven, and by so many 
 extraordinary interpositions to attest his mission ; 
 considering also that miracles have been already 
 proved to be an evidence of divine revelation (vid. 
 Prop. 94.) ; we have just reason to believe that the 
 revelation which Christ made was divine, and that 
 he is without reserve to be credited in all he has 
 asserted, and obeyed in all he has commanded. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Baxt. Worlis, v. iii. p. 70. v. ii. p. 114. F/cctiv. 
 on Mir. p. 144. Bliukall at B. Lett. Scrm. 
 vi. p. 66. 
 
 LECTURE CXXXIV. 
 
 COROLLAnY 1. 
 
 Considering how much tlie evidence of Chris- 
 tianity depends upon the Old Testament, there is 
 great reason to admire the wisdom and goodness of 
 Divine Providence in preserving the Jews as a dis- 
 tinct people, dispersed almost all over the Christian 
 world ; and thereby adding force to the arguments 
 taken from those sacred books, beyond what they 
 could otherwise have had. — Compare Prop. 112. 
 Schol. 4. 
 
 Sped. vol. vii. No. 495. Burnet's 4 Disc. p. 8. 
 Dod. 10 Serm. No. x. p. 277. Lardn. 3. 
 Disc, on the Jews ; Worhs, vol. x. p. 03. 
 
 COUOLLAUY 2. 
 
 Considering how much the argument drawn from 
 Christ's predictions of the destruction of Jerusalem 
 is illustrated by the writings of Josephus, it is also 
 to be acknowledged as an extraordinary providence, 
 that this author was preserved in sucli a variety of 
 extreme dangers, and that his excellent writings arc 
 come down to us so entire ; in which we have a 
 more particular account of the desolation of his 
 country than of any other war of which we read in 
 ancient history. 
 
 Burn. 4 Disc. p. 10. Jos. Bell. Jud. lib. iii. c. 
 
 vii. Hudson's ciUt. Bens. Prop, of Gosp. vol. 
 
 i. p. 190. Jort ill's Bern. vol. i. p. 34.* 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 The time in which Christ appeared was peculiarly 
 
 * Tlic value of Josopliun's evidence is well estimated by Dr. I.anl- 
 ner, in his Tcslimnnies, vol. i. cli. lii. p. I2S; Vorks, vol. vii p. 101. 
 See also the Do(t.>r's coniludiiig ObstTvalions on Josephiis Test. ib. 
 1>. IG7; Works, ih. p. 132. 
 
 proper on many accounts ; considering that it was 
 marked out by some of the prophecies quoted above ; 
 that the vanity of other attempts for reforming the 
 world had been sufliciently tried ; tliat the world 
 was in a peaceful state^ and the cessation of the 
 extraordinary gifts of prophecies and miracles in 
 the Jewish i^hurcli, for some preceding ages, would 
 make tlie appearance of a person so eminently en- 
 dowed with them the more honourable and the more 
 remarkable. 
 
 Flem. Christol. v. ii. p. 414. Tilluts. Serm. v. 
 ii. p. 462. Har. Crit. Dis. 4to, p. 166. Post. 
 Scrm. vol. ii. No. vii. Inf. of tlie World, f)-c. 
 Jenlt. Reus, of Chris, part ii. e. 23. vol. ii. p. 
 387. Law's Cotisid. part ii. prtrs. p. 126. 
 Jo)-t. Disc. No. iv. p. 162. Trn/l. Se/i. of Dir. 
 c. 37. Bp. Watson's Coll. of Tracts, vol. i. 
 p. 168. Dr. Roberts. Serm. on the Sit. of the 
 World at Christ's Appearance. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To say that the miracles referred to in the propo- 
 sition were performed by mayic, is very unreason- 
 able ; since, on the one liand, there is no reason to 
 believe that men of such an excellent character a.? 
 Christ and his apostles appear to have been, wouid 
 have acted in confederacy with wicked spirits, or 
 that these would have lent their aid to advance a 
 cause whicli had so direct a tendency to destroy 
 their own kingdom : nor can we, on the other hand, 
 believe that God would have permitted such things 
 to have been done in consequence of such a con- 
 federacy, without interposing with miraculous evi- 
 dence on the contrary side of the question, seeing 
 these doctrines were far from being so evidently 
 absurd as to be incapable of being confirmed by 
 miracles. 
 
 Whith. Com. vol. i. ed. 5. Pref. p. 20. Turret. 
 Loc. 13. Quast. ii. § 19. v. ii. p. 319. Blach- 
 all at B. Lect. p. 73. Chapm. Euseb. vol. i. 
 p. 3a5, note. Farmer on Mir. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 If we should grant (as many have maintained, 
 though they have not been able to prove it) that the 
 case of those who are called Demoniacs in the New 
 Testament, was nothing more than common 7nad- 
 ness or epileptic disorders, the cure of these, merely 
 by speaking a Mord, would be as true a miracle as 
 easting out devils ; but how far this would be recon- 
 cilable with the honour of the authors of the New 
 Testament, in the report they have made of these 
 miracles, will be considered at large hereafter. — 
 Prop. 161. Schol. 1. 
 
 Beuusobre up. Jort. Rem. v. ii. p. 218. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 That the miracles wrought by Christ were on the 
 whole superior to those of Moses, is shown by a large 
 and beautiful comparison of them in 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 385 
 
 Limb. CoUat. p. 131, 132, 151. Jort. Rem. v. 
 ii. p. 4, &c. 
 
 SCHOLll'M 4. 
 
 The cessation of oracles among the Heathens, 
 might have been justly added under the eleventh 
 step, could it be proved to satisfaction (as perhaps 
 it may) on the one hand, that there was any thing 
 supernatural in them ; and, on the other, that they 
 did cease at the time of Christ's appearance. But 
 as this is matter of controversy, it seemed sufficient 
 to have touched upon it here, referring it to further 
 examination in a more proper place. But if grant- 
 ed, it is not a consideration proper to show the suit- 
 ableness of the time of Christ's appearance,- — since 
 it might as well have followed upon it, had that ap- 
 pearance been sooner or later. — Cor. 3. Prop. 161. 
 SchoL 2. Atterb. Ser. vol. i. Ser. iii. p. 120. 
 
 LECTURE CXXXV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Several Heathen writers, and especially Hiero- 
 cles, whose book Eusebius has answered, and Phi- 
 lostratus, endeavour to bring the miracles of Christ 
 into disgrace, by comparing with them, and prefer- 
 ring to them, those of Apollonius Tyanaeus, of whom 
 it may be proper here to give a short account : — He 
 is said to have been a Pythagorean philosopher, 
 contemporary with Christ, remarkable for his tem- 
 perance and many other virtues. It is said he 
 claimed and exercised an extraordinary power of 
 speaking all languages, and performing all miracles, 
 equal to those which are ascribed to Christ, not ex- 
 cepting even raising the dead. He is also said to 
 have transported himself into the air from one place 
 to another, and at last to have ascended into 
 Heaven ; and afterwards to have appeared to the 
 emperor Alexander. — To this story it may be 
 objected, 
 
 1. That according to the account which Philostra- 
 tus gives of the manner in which he was furnished 
 with the materials of his history, the facts must be 
 very uncertain ; for he tells us that Apollonius had 
 been dead or translated a hundred years before he 
 wrote, and that his history was compiled partly from 
 the commentaries of one Damis, which were never 
 published, but given to Philostratus by the empress 
 Julia as secret memoirs, without any evidence of 
 their being genuine ; and partly from the writings 
 of Maximus Egiensis and Meragoras, the former of 
 whom only wrote a few particulars ; the latter was, 
 according to the character Philostratus himself 
 gives of him, a very fabulous and romantic writer. 
 He does indeed add, that there were some monu- 
 ments of some of these facts ; but places them in I 
 2 c 
 
 distant countries, as India and Ethiopia, where no 
 writers pretend to have found them ; and as for the 
 letters of Apollonius himself, he owns they related 
 not to his miracles, but to the curiosities of the 
 countries through which he had travelled ; so that 
 had Philostratus himself been ever so honest, and 
 his design in writing ever so good, it is difficult to 
 see what satisfaction he could have had himself, or 
 have given his readers, as to any of those facts. 
 
 2. The manner in which Philostratus has written 
 his history, gives us but an ill idea of his own 
 character, and lays a foundation for great suspi- 
 cion ; for it is very affected, extravagant, and most 
 unlike the beautiful simplicity of style which is 
 observable in the New Testament, full of an osten- 
 tation of learning, and discovers a disposition to 
 aggravate all facts to the utmost which might tend 
 to the reputation of his hero. 
 
 3. Many of the miracles whicli Philostratus 
 ascribes to Apollonius, were, according to him, 
 done in secret, or before very few witnesses, or 
 were self-contradictory, and others were vain and 
 foolish ; not a few appear to have been borrowed 
 from the History of the Evangelists, and applied to 
 Apollonius, with the change of a few circumstances. 
 
 4. The occasion of writing his book, seems to 
 have been the author's desire to ingratiate himself 
 with Julia the wife of Severus, and with Caracalla 
 the succeeding emperor, by detracting from Chris- 
 tianity ; to which they had both a great aversion. 
 
 5. The stor}' so soon died, and the disciples of 
 Apollonius were so few, that there is little reason 
 to believe he was so extraordinary a person as 
 Philostratus represents, especially since none of 
 his followers pretend to have received from him a 
 power of working miracles. 
 
 6. It has also been answered. That should the 
 truth of this most incredible story be allowed, no 
 certain argument could be brought from thence 
 against the credibility of the Gospel, — since Apol- 
 lonius did not profess to work his miracles in con- 
 firmation of any doctrine contrary to and inconsist- 
 ent with it. Yet, after all, the truth of the story 
 would so far derogate from the honour of Chris- 
 tianity, though it does not directly oppose it, that 
 it is most reasonallc to rest the stress of the answer 
 on the remarks under tho preceding heads. 
 
 Tillcm. Life of Apoll. and Jenkins's Observ. 
 Smallbr. ag. Woolst. vol. i. p. 16. Whit. 
 Com. vol. i. Pref. p. 19. Fleetw. on Mir. p. 
 249. Kidder on 3Iessiah, p^irti.Tp. 63. Jacks. 
 Cred. lib. i. part ii. ^ 3. c. xi. ap. Op. vol. i. lib. 
 i. c. xvii. p. 61. Weston's Rej. of Mir. c. iv. 
 p. 94. L'Hist. des Emp. par M. Crev. vol. 
 vii. lib. V. \ 6. Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. v. lib. 
 iii. c. xix. p. 691. vol. xv. p. 88. Douyl, 
 Crit. p. 65. Lard. Test. vol. iii. c. 39. and 
 Appen. ; Works, vol. viii. p. 261, 
 
380 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCIIOLU'M G. 
 
 Some of the same remarks may be made on most 
 of the iniraeles whicli Heatlien writers mention as 
 performed by Eseulapius, Adrian, Vespasian, and 
 others. The pretended number of them was small, 
 the evidenec very uncertain, niost of tliem bein"; 
 reported by distant liearsay, and some others of 
 them eonneefcd with eireiimstances which wonld 
 render it a dangerous thing to examine into them ; 
 so that, upon the whole, the w isest of the Heathens 
 themselves did not appear to believe tbem. Or if 
 it should be granted they were facts, since they 
 were not wrought in confirmation of any proposition, 
 the evidence of Christianity would not be impaired 
 by them. On the contrarj% as some of the most 
 credible among tbem were signally subservient to 
 the intended vengeance of God upon the Jews, 
 taking them in all their circumstances, they give 
 additional evidence to Christianity rather than 
 detract from it. As for any extraordinary facts 
 ascribed to the Philosophers in Eunapius, the dis- 
 tance of time in which he wrote, and tlie uncertainty 
 of his information, sulliciently obviates any argu- 
 ment to be drawn from them ; they probably were 
 the effect of the same enmity to Christianity whicli 
 engaged Zosjmus to throw so many slanders on 
 those great men who professed it. 
 
 Huet. Dem. Pr. ix. c. 142. § 5—12. Whit. ib. 
 
 vol. ii. Pref. p. 26. Suet. Vcsp. c. vii. Pitisc. 
 
 in Loc. c. V. Spart. Hist. C. xxv. ap. Pitisc. 
 
 p. 957. Jos. Ant. lib. viii. c. ii. p. 257. Col. 
 
 ed. lib. viii. c. ii. § 5. p. 339. Huds. ed. Grot. 
 
 fie Verit. lib. iv. e. viii. Gastr. at B. Lcct. 
 
 vol. ii. p. 280. Fleetw. on Mir. p. 239. Jenh. 
 
 on Chris, vol. i. p. 29. Jacks. Cred. uhi sup. 
 
 p. 131. up. Op. lib. 1. c. 23. vol. i. p. 92. 
 
 Pitisc. Lex. Ant. Rom. in Verb. JEger, vol. i. 
 
 p. 416. Weston's Rej. p. 45. Tacit. Hist. 
 
 lib. 24. Univ. Hist. vol. xv. p. 21. Hume 
 
 on Mir. p. 188. Douglas's Criter. p. 96. 
 
 Lardn. Test.\o\. i. c. 3. p. 87. vol. iv. c. 53; 
 
 Works, vol. vii. p. 73. vol. ix. p. 1. 
 
 How extremely difficult it was for the most artful 
 and bold impostor to secure to himself the reputa- 
 tion of a prophet, and any general regard to pre- 
 tences of working miracles, may also further appear 
 from the story of Alexander, in the Pseudomantis 
 of Lucian ; which is an admirable contrast to that 
 of Christ and his apostles; and, as such, is com- 
 pendiously represented with great force in 
 
 Lyttel. Obs. on Paul, p. 62; Misc. Works, vol. 
 
 ii. p. .53. Lardn. Test. vol. ii. c. 19. § 3 ; 
 
 Works, vol. viii. p. 74. Adams on Mir. p. 
 
 85. Camp. ag. Hume, p. 189. Anc. Vn. 
 
 Hiit. vol. XV. p. '248 ; vol. vi. p. 81. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 The miracles of the Church of Rome hardly 
 
 deserve any mention upon this occasion ; many of 
 them being ridiculous tales, according to their own 
 historians ; others of them being performed without 
 any credible witnesses, or in circumstances where 
 the performer had the greatest opportunity for 
 juggling; and it is particularly remarkable, that 
 they arc hardly ever wrought where they seem most 
 necessary, i. e. in countries where those doctrines 
 are renounced, which that church esteems of the 
 highest importance. 
 
 Kidder's Messiah, part i. p. 59. Tillot. Serni, 
 
 vol. iii. No. 117. p. 511. Brevint's Saul and 
 
 Sam. at Endor, c. iii. pras. p. 52. Dougl. 
 
 Criter. Sykcs on Mir. p. 76. Hume on Mir. 
 
 p. 93. Adams on Miracles, p. 63. Canipb. 
 
 on ditto, part ii. § 5. passim. 
 
 LECTURE CXXXVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXIV. 
 
 The system of doctrines delivered to the world in 
 the New Testament, is in the main worthy of being 
 received as true and divine. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 108, 113. 1. Many important doctrines 
 contained in the New Testament, were taught by 
 Christ in his own person, and reported by the 
 apostles as spoken by him ; now we have already 
 proved that he was worthy of universal credit, and 
 that their testimony of facts deserves great regard. 
 
 2. The apostles received from Christ the promise 
 of extraordinary divine assistance in the discharge 
 of their office and ministry ; which must at least 
 extend to the furnishing them with the knowledge 
 of all necessary truth, and preserving them from 
 gross and dangerous mistakes : — John xiv. 16, 17, 
 26 ; XV. 26, 27 ; xvi. 13 ; xx. 21—23. Matt. x. 19, 
 20. Luke xii. 11, 12 ; xxiv. 49. Acts i. 4, 5. 
 
 3. The Holy Spirit was in a visible manner poured 
 out upon the apostles on the day of Pentecost, in 
 consequence of this promise ; and they professed 
 to have received such assistance from him, as em- 
 powered them to declare the mind and will of Christ 
 as authorized interpreters of it, and to challenge a 
 regard to what they said as to a message from 
 Heaven :— Acts ii. pass. 1 Cor. ii. 9, 10, 12, 13, 16 ; 
 vii. 40 ; xiv. 37. 2 Cor. ii. 10 ; iii. 5, 6. 1 Thess. 
 iv. 8. Gal. i. 11, 12, 15 — 17. Compare 1 Cor. xi. 
 23, &c. Eph. iii. b. 1 Pet. i. 12. 2 Pet. iii. 2, 15, 
 16. 1 John iv. 6. To which we may add all the 
 passages in which the gospel taught by the apostles 
 is called the Gospel of God, 2 Cor. xi. 7. I Tim. i. 
 W, et sim. as also Eph. iii. 7 — 11. Gal. ii. 8,9. and 
 all those passages in which the Gospel-dispensa- 
 tion, as declared in the discourses and writings of 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 387 
 
 the apostles, is represented as vastly superior to the 
 Mosaic law, of whose divine authority, neverthe- 
 less, the apostles speak (as we shall afterwards see 
 at large) in such strong terms. — Vid. Prop. 118. 
 gr. 12. Cliapm. arj. Morg. vol. i. p. 289. 
 
 4. There is a great deal of reason to believe that 
 this was not merely an empty boast, or a mistaken 
 conclusion of their own ; considering, not only the 
 general probability of the thing, that, after Christ 
 had taught a doctrine introduced by such extraor- 
 dinary circumstances, some extraordinary care 
 should be taken in transmitting it ; but also the 
 excellent character of the persons themselves, and 
 the miracles which were performed, and the prophe- 
 cies which were delivered by them, — some of which 
 have already had a remarkable accomplishment, 
 especially those relating to the apostasy of the latter 
 days, and the arising of the man of sin, i. e. the 
 papal kingdom ; not to mention the whole book of 
 the Revelations. Vid. 1 Tim. iv. 1—3. 2 Thess. ii. 
 pass. 
 
 Sir I. Xeict. on Proph. part ii. Bens, on the 
 Man of Sin, Par. and Notes on the Epist. 
 vol. i. p. 173. 2d ed. Nat/i. Taylor on Faith. 
 p. 105. Duchal's Serm. No. vii. 
 
 5. The primitive Christians, who professed to 
 have received their religion from the apostles, and 
 who expressed the highest regard for the authoritj- 
 of their writings, (as will be more fully shown in 
 the following proposition,) were attended with a 
 remarkable power of working miracles, which con- 
 tinued in the church for more than a hundred years 
 after the apostles' time. 
 
 Iren. c. ii. § 31, 32, .56, .57; c. v. § G. ap. 
 Chapm. Eus. vol. i. p. .30.5. Eus. Eccl. Hist. 
 lib. v. c. vii. Cypr. ail Demet. p. 191. Tcrt. 
 ad Scap. § 4. Just. Mart. Apol. No. i. np. 
 Op. p. 45. Justin Mart. Dial, with Trypho. 
 ap. Op. p. 258. Paris. Oriy. Conlr. Cels. p. 
 124. Minut. Fceli.v, c. xxvii. Tert. Apol. 
 c. xxiii. Reeves's Apol. vol. ii. p. 13fi, 
 Note. Whit. Com. vol. ii. Pref. § 10. p. 26. 
 
 6. God appears to have borne witness to the truth 
 of Christianity, by the extraordinary success whicli 
 attended it, and by the support which was given to 
 those who endured martyrdom for it. This success 
 of the Gospel appears wonderful indeed, if we con- 
 sider, on the one hand, how speedy and extensive 
 its progress was, and, on the other, what opposition 
 was made to it from the prejudices of education, 
 from the corrupt alTections of men, wliich would 
 render them exceedingly averse to so humbling a 
 scheme, and .so strict a system of morality. To this 
 may also be added, the candour with which the 
 whole .scheme was laid open at once, not excepting 
 those parts which might give the greatest disgust, 
 the want of the advantage of human literature, and 
 
 2 c 2 
 
 other recommendations of a secular nature on the 
 side of the persons by whom it was preached, the 
 wit and eloquence which were engaged against it 
 in so polite an age and country, and the terrors of 
 persecutions which were so early armed for its utter 
 extirpation : that such exquisite torments as were 
 often inflicted on Christians in these times, should 
 be supported by the youngest and weakest with such 
 patience and joy, and that the Christian cause 
 should be promoted by them, seems evidently to 
 prove, not only that tlie sufferers had convincing 
 evidence of the truth of the Gospel, but likewise 
 that God was present with them in so remarkable 
 a manner as to acknowledge their cause for his 
 own. 
 
 * Bennet's Insp. p. 128. Addis. Worhs, vol. 
 iii. p. 314. Ens. Eccl. Hist. lib. v. c. i. p. 
 202; lib. iv. c. xv. p. 163; lib. viii. c. vii. 
 Atterb. Serm. vol. i. No. iii. p. 95. Whitby's 
 Chr. Faith, c. vi. p. 140. Bur. 4 Disc. p. 
 37. Bar. Works, vol. ii. p. 225. West's 
 Obs. on Christ's Resur. p. 410. Emlyn's 
 Life, p. 79. Har. on Man, vol. ii. Prop. 44. 
 Jortins Rem. vol. ii. p. 134, Sec. 
 1 — 6. 7. Since so much of the system of doctrines 
 delivered in the New Testament came from Christ's 
 own mouth, and the apostles were so well furnished 
 for acquainting us both with them and other par- 
 ticulars ; since such a testimony was borne to them, 
 both by the effusion of the Spirit upon them, and 
 the miracles wrought by them and succeeding 
 Christians, and by the extraordinary success of that 
 doctrine they taught, — tliere is great reason to 
 believe and admit it as a system of divine truth. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 When it i.s considered how very large a part of 
 the argument is derived from tlie testimony of Paul 
 an'd his writings, it will appear that his extraordinary 
 conversion was a circumstance most wisely adjusted 
 by Providence ; as, on the other hand, what relates 
 to him contains a compendious demonstration of the 
 truth of Christianity ; as is largely and excellently 
 proved in 
 
 Lytt. on Conv. of Paul. pass. Misc. Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 3, &c. DuchuV s pres. Evid. Serm. 
 5 and 6. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Though it must be acknowledged that traditional 
 testimony is in some degree weakened by passing 
 through a succession of hands, and on that account 
 the evidcn(x of Christianity must in some degree 
 diiniiii.sh with time, — yet that may be balanced by 
 the accomplishment of prophecies referred to, yv. 
 
 * Tlie f|iiestioii roncerning the extr.inrdinary i)iuct=<! of the Gospel, 
 occisionally occurs in tlic answers to Mr. rSibbon's two chapters, — to 
 wlirch authors we have before refcrreil. We now add tlie late Mr. 
 Henry Taylor's further Thoughtson the Grand Apostasy. 
 
388 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 4. as well as h\ growing: observations on oilier parts 
 of the internal eviilenee. — \h\. Prop. 97. Sc/iol. 2. 
 Sharp's Serm. vol. i. No. 4. Warb. Div. l.rg. 
 vol. i. p. 1. Ilur. OH Man, vol. ii. Prop. 29. 
 SCIIOLII'M 2. 
 
 It is most evident, that the extraordinary profjress 
 of the Mahometan religion in the world, is a fart by 
 no means eoniparable to the propagation of Chris- 
 tianity, eonsideriiig tlic dillerent genius of it, and 
 the dillerent methods by which it was effected. 
 
 Limb. Collat. p. 136. Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. 
 
 75. Bar. Works, vol. i. p. 375. Sale's Kor. 
 
 p. 25, &c. Prid. Let. to Deists, ^ 1, 5, 7. np. 
 
 Life of Mahom. Atterb. Ser. vol. i. No. 4. 
 
 p. 12G. Odd. Hist, of Sarae. pass. Har. on 
 
 Man, vol. ii. Prop. 45. White's Serm. at B. 
 
 Lett, passim. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 It is urged that martyrdom is no argument of a 
 person's being in the right, since there have been 
 martyrs of all religions ; and enthusiasts have died 
 for notorious enors with the greatest readiness and 
 zeal. 
 
 Ans. It shows at least that people are persuaded 
 of what they die for ; and the thing for which the 
 primitive Christians suffered was not a point of 
 speculation, but a plain matter of fact, in which 
 (had it been false) they could not have been mis- 
 taken. 
 
 Burn. Hist. 8vo, vol. ii. p. 888. Jort. Rem. 
 vol. ii. p. 137. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 The power of working miracles in the Christian 
 church was pretty universally ceased before Chry- 
 sostom's time. As for what Augustine says of those 
 wrought at the tombs of the martyrs in his time, 
 and some other places, the evidence is not always 
 so convincing as might be desired in facts of such 
 importance ; but we are not to wonder that miracles 
 are generally ceased ; seeing if they were to be fre- 
 quently repeated for many succeeding ages, they 
 would lose much of their convincing power, and so 
 would be less capable of answering the end proposed 
 by them. 
 
 Avffust. de Civ. Dei, lib. xxii. c. viii. Arnob. 
 lib. i. p. 27. Lact. Inst. lib. ii. c. xv. lib. iv. 
 c. xxvii. lib. v. c. xxi. Burn. 4 Disc. p. 68. 
 Tillots. Ser. vol. iii. p. 509. Je7ik. Chris. 
 vol. ii. p. 484. Jurieu's Posth. Let. p. G05. 
 Whist. Mem. vol. iii. Postsc. p. G. Lard. 
 Cred. vol. x. p. 378 ; Worhs, vol. iv. p. 163.* 
 
 ♦ In IT-iT, Dr. Mitldlctnn published an Tntroiliirtory Disrourse to a 
 lar£;er work, concerninir tlie Miriiciiloiis Powers wliirh nre siipiio<;e(i to 
 linve subsisted in the Christiait Ciiurch. from the earliest ii^es. throii<^h 
 several successive centuries ; tendin*; to shf)W that we have no sufficient 
 reason to believe, lipnti the aulluirity of llie primitive fathers, (hat any 
 such powers were continued to the Church, after the davs of Ihe apos. 
 ties. This putjiication was inimediately attacked by "l)r. Slebbinf;, 
 (Uiough without his name,) in Observations on a Book, entitled An 
 Introductory Discourse to a larger Work ; and by Dr. Chapman, (like- 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Though we ought not to be over-credulous in be- 
 lieving stories of miracles wrought in ourown days, 
 yet it would be a very groundless presumption to 
 say that God never does, nor will, work them. We 
 arc not judges of what is fit for him to do; — and 
 where facts appear with such evidence as would be 
 admitted in other cases, it seems very unreasonable 
 to reject it here. 
 
 Ac. Maillard's Mirac. Cure. Calam. Life of 
 Baxt. vol. i. p. 400. 
 
 LECTURE CXXXVII. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXII. 
 Any supernatural influence of God upon the 
 mind of a rational creature, whereby he is formed to 
 any degree of intellectual improvements, to which 
 he could not or would not in fact have attained in 
 present circumstances in a natural way, is called in 
 general DiviNii inspiration. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXIII. 
 
 Tiiat is called in general an inspiration of 
 SUPERINTENDENC Y, in which God does so influence 
 and direct the mind of any person, as to keep him 
 more secure from error in some various and corn- 
 wise without his name,) in the Jesuit Cabal further opened. Dr. 
 Middleton re)iljed, in Remarks on two Pamphlets, l.itely published 
 a;;ainst Dr. lMi<ldleton's Introductory Discourse. Soon after (Dec. 
 1784) appeared the Doctor's larger work, with this title, A Fiee Irnpiiry 
 into the IMiraciilous Powers which are supposed to have subsisted in 
 the Christian Church from the Earliest A;^es, thronp^h several suc- 
 cessive Ai^es. — The Free Inijuiry was productive of a controversy, in 
 which the principal performances in opposition to Dr. Middleton were 
 as tollows; — The Expediency <»f the Miraculous Powers <tf the Chris, 
 tian Fathers, and the Inexpediency of those liiat are claimed hy the 
 Church of Rome, considered, by W. Parker, M. A. now Dr. Parker; 
 a Vindication of the Miraculous Powers which subsisted in the Three 
 first Centuries of the Chrisli.in Church, in answer to Dr. Middleton's 
 Free Inquiry, by Thomas Church, M. A. afterwards Dr. Church ; An 
 Examination of Dr. Mnidleton's Free Iiupiiry iiilo the Miraculous 
 Powers of the Primitive Church, by Z. Brooke, B D. ; An Appeal to 
 the Serious and Ilniirejudiced ; or a Second Vindication of the Miracu- 
 lous Powers which subsisted in the Three first Centuries of the Chris, 
 tian Church, in answer to the late posthumous work otDr. Middleton, 
 by Dr. Church ; A Free Answer to Dr. Middleton's Free Impiiiy, by 
 Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Dodwell ; and a lull and final Reply to Mr. Toll's 
 Defence of Dr. Middleton's Free IiKjiiiry, with an Appendix, in Answer 
 toevery Particular in Dr. Middleton's Vindication, by Ihe samefientlc. 
 man. Dr. Chapman apjieared also ag;aiii in the controversy, in a View 
 of the Expediency and Crediliility of Miraculous Powers amoiij; the 
 Primitive Christians, after the Decease of the Apostles. One of the 
 earliest writers on the same side of the f|iiestinn was the learned John 
 Jackson, in a piece, the title of which was Remarks on Dr. Middleton's 
 Free Inquiry into the Miraculous Powers supposed to liave subsisted 
 in the Christian Church from the Earliest A^es. 
 
 A further Tract was written by Dr. Middleton himself upon the 
 snbjt ct, entitled A Vindication of the Free lufiniiy into the Miraculous 
 Powers which are supposed to have subsisted in the Cliiircli, from the 
 Olijcrlions of Dr. Dodwell and Dr. Church This was a posthumous 
 publication, and was left imperfect at the author's death. The follow, 
 iiif;- performances appeared in support of Ihe Doctor's system: — A 
 Letter in Defnice of Dr. Middleton, by R. > ate ; a Defence of Dr. 
 Middleton's Free Inquiry, against Dr. Dodwell's Free Answer, by 
 Frederic Toll, M. A. ; the Plan of a Supplement to Dr. Middletoii's 
 Free Iniptiry, exhibited in a Dissertation on the Baptism and Miraru. 
 lolls (Jills of the Holy Ghost ; some Remarks upon Mr. Church's Vin. 
 dicalion of Miraculous Powers, &c. with an Observation or two upon 
 Dr. Slehbinii's Christianity justified, so tar as tel.ites to this siibje<-t, by 
 Mr. Toll ; Cursory Animadversions upon a late Controversy concerning 
 the Miraculous Powers;, and the second part of Dr. Sykes's Two 
 Questions, previous to Dr. Middleton's Free Inquiry, "impartially 
 considered. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 389 
 
 plex discourse, tbau he would have been merely by 
 the use of his natural faculties. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 A book may be written without any error at all, 
 where yet there is no superintendent inspiration, if 
 the nature of the subject and the genius of the man 
 be such, as to be capable of such a composition. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 A book may be written by assistance of such an 
 inspiration, in which there are some errors, pro- 
 vided they hcfeiver than in a course of nature must 
 have been expected. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXIV. 
 
 Plenary superintendent inspiration is such 
 a degree of inspiration, as excludes mixture of 
 error at all from the performance so superintended. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 A book, the contents of which are entirely true, 
 may be said to be written by a plenary superintend- 
 ent inspiration, even though there are mant/ things 
 contained in it, tlie truth of which might have been 
 known and recorded without such extraordinary 
 assistance, if there are others which could not ; or 
 if, on the whole, a freedom from all error would not 
 otherwise have been found there. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 A book may be written by such a superintendent 
 inspiration, in which there are many imperfections 
 of sti/le and method, provided the whole contents of 
 it be true, and the subject of it so important, as 
 would make it consistent with the Divine Wisdom 
 thus to interpose, to preserve that entire credibility. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXV. 
 
 An inspiration of elevation is said to take 
 place, where the faculties act in a regular and (as 
 it seems) a common manner, yet are raised to an 
 extraordinary degree ; so that the composure shall, 
 upon the whole, have more of the true sublime, or 
 pathetic, than natural genius could have given. 
 corollary 1. 
 
 In many cases it may be impossible to judge how 
 far this inspiration may take place, since it is so 
 difficult to know how far natural genius may extend, 
 or how far corporeal causes may work upon the 
 animal frame, so as to produce a performance greatly 
 above the common standard. 
 
 corollary 2. 
 
 There may be such an inspiration as this, where 
 there is none of superintendency, and much less 
 any that is plenary. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXVI. 
 
 Inspiration of suggestion takes place when 
 the use of the faculties is superseded, and God does, 
 as it were, speak directly to the mind, making such 
 discoveries to it as it could not otherwise have ob- 
 
 tained, and dictating the very words in which such 
 discoveries are to be communicated, if they are 
 meant as a message to others. 
 
 corollary 1. 
 There may be a plenary superintendency, where 
 there is neither the inspiration of elevation nor that 
 of suggestion. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Where there is an inspiration of suggestion, we 
 may depend upon the certain truth of what is so 
 suggested ; for it is not to be imagined that God 
 would dictate or declare a falsehood to any of his 
 creatures, considering the veracity of his own 
 nature : and we may also conclude there will be a 
 plenary superintendency of direction in reporting 
 it, if such superintendency be necessary to the ex- 
 actness of that report ; for it seems inconsistent 
 with the divine wisdom, to suppose that God would 
 suffer an inspired person to err through natural 
 infirmity, in delivering a message with which he 
 has been pleased so expressly to charge him. 
 
 Doddr. Fam. Exp. v. iii. App. No. iii. p. 38. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 All the kinds of inspiration which have been 
 described above, are possible to the almighty power 
 of God, since there is nothing in any of them con- 
 tradictory to itself, or which appears contradictory 
 to any of the divine perfections. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 There may be various ways whereby God com- 
 municates himself to his servants in the inspiration 
 of suggestion : he may sometimes do it by imme- 
 diate impressions on the mind, or by dreams and 
 visions represented to the imagination : at other 
 times by sounds formed in the air, or by visible ap- 
 pearances, in which the volition of some created 
 spirit may or may not intervene. 
 
 Essay on Insp. p. 29. TiUots. Ser. vol. ii. No. 
 ii. p. 16. Cliand. on Joel, Diss. p. 108. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Some have thought it improper to distinguish be- 
 tween divine and diabolical inspiration; seeing, on 
 the one hand, an evil sjjirit can suggest nothing 
 without a divine agency to render its volitions 
 efl'ectual, Prop. 32. and, on the other hand, God's 
 raising a thought immediately in the mind is no 
 argument that it is true, unless he appears to inter- 
 pose so as to give testimony to it; but wo answer, 
 That allowing both these, an important distinction 
 is to be kept up between what God does as his own 
 act, and what he docs merely in the general course 
 of his operations, in giving efficacy to the volitions 
 of bis creatures. A regard to the common usage of 
 speech, and likewise to the language of Scripture, 
 as far as that is to be considered, will require us to 
 maintain this distinction, even while we acknow- 
 ledge a dependence of all inferior agents upon God, 
 
380 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 and his conslant inlcrpnsilion to cairy on the de- 
 signs of his provitlenee, amidst the i;reatest oppo- 
 sition ^^ hiih evil spirits are making to them. Prop. 
 3->. Si hol. 3. 
 
 Vandale de Orac. p. 9. Baxt. Works, vol. ii. 
 
 p. \m. 
 
 LECTURE CXXXVIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXV. 
 To collect some testimonies of the primitive 
 fathers, expressing their sentiments concerning the 
 inspiration of the New Testament. 
 
 son TION. 
 
 1. Clemens Romanus says, " That the apostles 
 preached the Gospel, being filled with the Holy 
 Spirit ; that the Scriptures are the true word of the 
 Spirit ; and that Paul wrote to the Corinthians 
 things that were true by tlic aid of the Spirit." 
 
 2. Polycarp tells the Philippians, " That none 
 could attain the wisdom of Paul, by which Le 
 wrote to them." 
 
 3. Justin Martyr says, "That the Gospels were 
 written by men full of the Holy Ghost ; and that 
 the sacred writers spoke by inspiration." 
 
 4. Irena?us says, " That all the apostles received 
 the Gospel by divine revelation, as well as Paul ; 
 and that, by the will of God they delivered it to us 
 as the foundation and pillar of our faith ; that the 
 Scriptures were dictated by the Spirit of God, and 
 therefore it is wickedness to contradict them, and 
 sacrilege to make any alteration in them." 
 
 6. Clemens Alexandrinus says, "That we that 
 have the Scriptures are taught of God ; that the 
 Scriptures are established by the authority of God ; 
 that the whole Scripture is the law of God, and that 
 they are all divine." 
 
 6. Origen says, " That the Scriptures proceeded 
 from the Holy Spirit ; that there is not one tittle in 
 them but what expresses a divine wisdom ; that 
 there is nothing in the law, or the prophets, or the 
 Gospels or the Epistles, which did not proceed from 
 the fulness of the Spirit : that we ought with all 
 the faithful to say, that the Scriptures are divinely 
 inspired ; that the Gospels are admitted as divine 
 in all the churches of God ; that the Scriptures arc 
 no other than the organs of God." 
 
 7. Tertullian testifies, " That Scripture is the 
 basis of faith ; that all Christians prove their doc- 
 trines out of the Old and New Testament ; and that 
 the Majesty of God suggested what Paul wrote." 
 
 8. An ancient writer in Eusebius says, " That 
 tlicy who corrupt the sacred Scriptures abolish the 
 standard of the ancient faith, neglecting the words 
 of tl>e divine writings, out of regard to their own 
 
 reasonings ; and afterwards, that they oilher do not 
 believe that tlie Holy Spirit uttered the Divine 
 Scriptures, and then they are infidels, or think 
 themselves wiser than the Spirit, and so seem to be 
 possessed." 
 
 Eus. Eccl. Hist. lib. v. e. xxviii. Jenh. Chris. 
 vol. ii. p. 22. Jort. Rem. vol. ii. p. 48. 
 Bins. Epist. vol. i. p. 318. 
 
 9. Theophilus Antiochenus says (as Ircnacus and 
 Clemens Alexandrinus also do) " That the evange- 
 lists and apostles wrote by the same Spirit that 
 inspired the proplicts." 
 
 10. Tlie succeeding fathers of the cliurch speak 
 so expressly and copiously on this head, that it 
 seems not necessary to pursue tlic catalogue any 
 further. 
 
 Whit. Com. vol. i. Pref. p. 12. La Mothe on 
 Insp. lib. i. c. iii — vi. Dupin's Canon, part 
 i. lib. ii. p. 49. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It seems to have been the judgment of many of 
 these persons, that the New Testament was written 
 by a plenary superintendent inspiration at least, 
 1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9. Lowth on Inspiratioti, p. 3. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It is evident that, in many of these passages, 
 they declare not only their own private sentiments, 
 but those of the whole church ; and it is certain 
 that their allowing any book to be, as they express- 
 ed it, canonical, was in efl'ect owning its plenary 
 inspiration ; since that word imported a rule of 
 faith and manners, whence there was no human 
 appeal, (/r. 6, 7, 8. 
 
 Fam. Expos, vol. iii. Append, p. 43, note. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Some passages have been brought on the other 
 side of the question from Jerom, who seems indeed 
 to allow that the apostles were subject to some slips 
 of memory. 
 
 Five Lett, on Insp. p. 47. La Mothe on Insp. 
 p. 44. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 A celebrated fable, related by Pappus in his 
 Synodicon, of a separation made in the grand 
 Council of Nice, between the canonical books of 
 the Scriptures, and others concerning which there 
 was a doubt, may be seen in 
 
 New Trans, of New Test. vol. ii. p. 874. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXVI. 
 The New Testament was written by a superin- 
 tendent inspiration. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 114. Dem.ffr.2. Prop. 113. 1. The apostles 
 were, according to Christ's promise, furnished with 
 all necessary powers for the discharge of their office, 
 by an extraordinary effusion of the Holy Spirit 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 3m. 
 
 upon them at tlie day of Pentecost. Acts ii. 1, &c. 
 and a second time, Acts iv. 31. 
 
 1. 2. We may assure ourselves, that they were 
 hereby competently furnished for all those services 
 which were of great importance for the spread and 
 edification of the church, and of so great difficulty 
 as to need supernatural assistance. 
 
 3. Considering how uncertain a thing oral tradi- 
 tion is, and how soon the most public and notorious 
 facts are corrupted by it, it was impossible that the 
 Christian religion could be preserved in any toler- 
 able degree of purity, without a tvritten account of 
 the facts and doctrines preached by the apostles ; 
 and yet, on the other hand, we can hardly suppose 
 that God would suffer a doctrine introduced in so 
 extraordinary a manner to be corrupted and lost. 
 
 4. The discourses of Christ were several of them 
 so long, and some likewise of so curious and deli- 
 cate a nature, that it is not to be imagined the 
 apostles should have been able exactly to record 
 Vliera, especially so many years after they were de- 
 livered, and amidst such a variety of cares and 
 dangers, without such extraordinary divine assist- 
 ance, or, in the language of Def. 73. without an 
 inspiration of superintendency. — For the time when 
 the Gospels were wTitten see, by the way, 
 
 Fam. Exp. vol. iii. Append. No. iv.* 
 
 5. Many of the doctrines which the apostles de- 
 livered in their writings were so sublime, and so 
 new, that as they could not have been known at first 
 otherwise than by an inspiration of suggestion, so 
 they would need an inspiration of superintendency 
 in delivering an accurate account of them. 
 
 2, 3, 4, 5. 6. There is reason to believe, from 
 the promise of Christ, that such parts of the New 
 Testament as were written by the apostles, v.ere 
 written by an inspiration of superintendency. 
 
 Prop. 114. gr. 3, 4. 7. It is not to be thought 
 that persons, so eminent for humility, piety, hu- 
 manity, and other virtues, as the apostles were, 
 would have spoken of their writings as tlie words 
 and the commands of the Lord, as the test of truth 
 and falsehood, and gloried so much in being under 
 the direction of the Spirit, if they had not certainly 
 known themselves to be so in their writings, as well 
 as in their preaching ; and the force of this argu- 
 ment is greatly illustrated, by recollecting the ex- 
 traordinary miraculous powers with which thcj- were 
 honoured, while making exhortations and preten- 
 sions of this kind, as was hinted above. 
 
 8. There was an ancient tradition, that Mark and 
 Luke were in the number of the seventy disciples 
 who were furnished with extraordinary powers from 
 Christ, and received from him promises of assistance 
 
 * For a discussion of the question concerning the (imc wlicn the 
 Gospels were written, recourse may be hail to I-irilncr'» Supplement, 
 vol. i ; Works, vol. vi. ; and to Dr. Henry Oivcu's Observalioiis on llie 
 Four Gospels, passim. 
 
 much resembling those made to the apostles (com- 
 pare Luke X. 9, 16, 1.0.) ; and if it were so, as the 
 arguments used to prove both the understanding 
 and integrity of the apostles may be in great 
 measure applied to them, we may, on the principles 
 laid down, conclude that tliey also had some in- 
 spiration of superintendency. But considering Col. 
 iv. 10, 14. Acts XX. 5, 6; xxi. 1 — 17, et sim. Acts 
 xii. 25 ; xv. 37—30. Phil. ver. 24. 1 Pet. v. 13. 
 there is much more reason to regard that received 
 and ancient tradition in the Christian church, that 
 Mark wrote his Gospel, instructed by Peter ; and 
 Luke his by Paul's assistance ; which, if it be al- 
 lowed, their writings will stand nearly on the same 
 fooling with those of Peter and Paul. Vid. Prop. 
 101. (/r. 20. 
 
 Whitb. Pref. to Lithe. Mills's Gr. Test. Prol. 
 ad 3Iarc. et Lnc. Jones ag. Whist, p. 46. 
 Benson on Prop, of Chris. App. part i. § 1, 2. 
 
 9. It may not be improper here just to mention 
 the internal marks of a divine original, the particu- 
 lars of which must be submitted to further examin- 
 ation. We shall endeavour to show, in the progress 
 of this work, what must be evident to all who are 
 well acquainted with the New Testament in the 
 general, tliougb capable of further illustration, that 
 the excellency of its doctrines, and the spirituality 
 and elevation of its design, the majesty and sim- 
 plicity of its style, the agreement of its parts, and 
 its efficacy upon the hearts and consciences of men, 
 concur to give us a high idea of it, and to corrobo- 
 rate the external arguments for its being written by 
 a superintendent inspiration at least. 
 
 Prop. 115. 10. There has been in the Christian 
 church, from its earliest ages, a constant tradition, 
 that these books were written by the extraordinary 
 assistance of the Spirit, which must at least amount 
 to superintendent inspiration. 
 
 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. 11. Valet propositio. 
 
 Bennet on Scr.\6. p. 163. Whitb. Gen. Pref. 
 Com. vol. i. § 4. Loxfth on Insp. p. 6. 
 
 COROLLAKY. 
 
 Hence we may certainly infer. That the apostles 
 were not left in their writings to misrepresent any 
 important facts on which the evidence of Cliristi- 
 anity was founded, or any important doctrine upon 
 which the salvation or edification of their converts 
 depended. f l^am. E.rpos. vol. iii. App. p. 43. 
 
 + Concerning tlie Inspiration of llio New Testament, see Micliaelis's 
 Lectures, as translated by Mr. Marsli, vol. i. p. 70. See also Mr. 
 Marsh's notes in the same volume, |i. .T7 1. Some observatinns on the 
 subject occur in Dr. Campbell's Preliminary Dissertations to his 'I'rans. 
 l.ition of tlic I'onr Gospels, Diss. i. part ii. p. 24. Recourse may like, 
 wise be had to Mr. Kiddell s Three Dissertations on the Inspiration of 
 the Holy .Scriptures. Mr. fiilbert Wakefield, in an lissay on Inspira- 
 tion, considered chiefly with respect to the KvanRelists, has warmly 
 .attacked the commonly.received doctrine upon this head ; and there is 
 much discussion ol the qucsliun in the several volumes of the Theo- 
 logical Keposilory. 
 
383 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURE CXXXIX. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It is a controversy of considerable difTiculty and 
 importance, Whether the inspiration and super- 
 intendoiH'v under wliii li the apostles were, extended 
 to every minute circumstance in tiieir writings, so as 
 to be in the most absolute sense plenary ■ ^'id. Def. 
 74. Jeroni, Grolius, I'lrasrnus, and Episeopius, 
 thought it w ;)S not ; and Lowtli himself allow s that, 
 in n;atters of no consequence, (as he expresses it,) 
 they might be liable to slips of memory : but, on the 
 contrary, it seems evident that the emphatical man- 
 ner in which our Lord speaks of the agency of the 
 Spirit upon them, and in which they themselves 
 speak of their own writings, will justify us in be- 
 lieving that their inspiration vas plenary, unless 
 there be very convincing evidence brought on the 
 other side to prove that it was not ; and it is to be 
 remembered, that if we allow there were some errors 
 in the New Testament as it came from the hands of 
 the apostles, there may be great danger of subvert- 
 ing the main purpose and design of it; since there 
 will be endless room to debate the importance both 
 of facts and doctrines. 
 
 W/iitb. Gen. Pre/, vol. i. p. C. Five Lett, on 
 
 Insp. p. 75. Lou th on Insp. p. 40. P. Simon 
 
 sur le texte du Noc. Test. c. xxiii. xxiv. 
 
 Law's Theory, p. 238. Hart, on Man, vol. ii. 
 
 prop. 19. Warb. Serm. vol. i. No. vi. p. 216. 
 
 Middl. Posth. Works, vol. ii. p. 340. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Against such a plenary inspiration of the New 
 Testament it is objected. That there is no circum- 
 stance in whicli more extraordinary assistances were 
 promised to the apostles, than when they appeared 
 before magistrates ; yet some mistakes in their con- 
 duet then show, that even this promise was to be 
 taken with some limitations ; and consequently that 
 in other circumstances they might also be liable to 
 mistakes. Compare Matt, x, 19, 20. Mark xiii. 11. 
 with Acts xxiii. 1 — 6. To this we answer, 
 
 1. That much is to be said in vindication of the 
 apostles' conduct in the instance to which the 
 objection refers. — Vid. Fum. Expos, in Loc. 
 
 2. That the apostles might be preserved from 
 mistakes in their apologies, and yet might be left to 
 some human infirmities as to other circumstances in 
 their behaviour before magistrates. 
 
 Five Lett, on Insp. p. 41. Lowth on Ins. p. 80. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is further objected, That the apostles did not 
 seem to apprehend each other to be inspired ; as 
 appears by their debating with each other in the 
 council at .Jerusalem, (Acts xv.) and by Paul's 
 blaming Peter (Gal. ii. 24.); neither, it is urged, 
 did the Christians in those early days apprehend 
 
 thtm to be infallible, since their conduct was, in 
 some instances, questioned and arraigned. Acts xi. 
 2, 3 ; xxi. 20—24. 
 
 But to this we answer, (besides w hat w as observed 
 before, that some mistakes in conduct might be con- 
 sistent with an inspiration of superintendeney in 
 their writings,) That in both instances in question 
 the apostles w ere in the right ; and the passages 
 urged will only prove that there were some Chris- 
 tians even then, who did not pay a due regard to 
 those grand ministers in the Messiah's kingdom ; to 
 which we may add. That Christ's promise to them 
 did not import that their first views of things should 
 always be right in the whole administration of their 
 ollice ; but that, on the whole, he would make pro- 
 per provision for their information ; and if we con- 
 sider how strong a temptation tiiey would have 
 been under to think too higiily of themselves, if 
 they had been under a constant plenary inspiration, 
 it may appear a beauty in the divine conduct to 
 have left them, in some instances, to the natural 
 weakness of their own minds (compare 2 Cor. xii. 
 7, 9, 10.) ; and sometimes to interrupt those extra- 
 ordinary gifts in particular cases, as he did those 
 of healing, (compare 2 Tim. iv. 20. Phil. ii. 27.) 
 still providing by other hands a remedy for those 
 ill consequences, which might have arisen from an 
 uncorrected mistake ; for, as to Dr. Morgan's pre- 
 tence, That the apostles, after all, went on each 
 in his dilTercnt opinion, it is entirely a false asser- 
 tion, and admirably well confuted by Dr. Lelaud 
 in the passage referred to below. 
 
 Let. on Insp. p. 50. Lowth on Insp. p. 80. 
 Witsii Mcletemata, p. 61. Mory. Mor. Phil. 
 vol. i. p. 54. Chapm. ag. Morg. vol. i. p. 
 317. Leland ag. Morg. vol. i. p. 398. Mid- 
 diet. Post. Works, vol. ii. p. 269. Lard. 
 Rem. on Ward's Diss. p. 157, &c. ; Works, 
 vol. xi. p. 335 ; Heath. Test.yoL iii. p. 173; 
 Works, vol. viii. p. 213. Ben. Hist. Plant. 
 Chris, vol. ii. p. 45. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is further objected. That Paul, who asserts 
 himself to have been inferior to none of the rest of 
 the apostles, (2 Cor. xi. 5; xii. 11.) speaks of him- 
 self in such a manner, as plainly to show that he 
 did not apprehend himself under such a plenary 
 inspiration (vid. 1 Cor. vii. 10, 12, 25, 40. 2 Cor. 
 xi. 17.) ; nor do we find that any of the apostles in- 
 troduce their discourses with such causes as the 
 prophets used, to declare that they spoke as the 
 oracles of God. 
 
 We answer, This will indeed prove that they did 
 not imagine themselves to have been always under 
 an inspiration of suggestion ; nevertheless, if what 
 they said was proper, and what they determined 
 was just, their inspiration of superintendeney might 
 still be plenary; and indeed their distinguishing 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 393 
 
 in this point seems strongly to imply (especially 
 when compared with tlie passage quoted before, 
 Prop. 113. gr. 3.) that their decisions in other points 
 of doctrine and duty were by immediate revelation 
 from Christ. 
 
 La Motlie on Iiisp. p. 87. Loiuth on Insp. p. 
 40. Whitb. Gen. Pref. to Com. vol. i. p. 6. 
 Bens. Epist. vol. i. p. 123. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is also objected, That there are several passages 
 in the history of the Evangelists, which are directly 
 contrary to each other, so that it is impossible they 
 .should both be true ; particularly in the genealogy 
 of Christ, and the story of his last passover, sufl'er- 
 ings, and resurrection. — To this we answer, 
 
 1. That there arc many seeming contradictions 
 which may be reconciled in a satisfactory manner, 
 without doing violence to the text, as appears from 
 our notes* on many of the passages in question. 
 
 2. There are many other dilTiculties, which may 
 be removed by various readings, or at least by alter- 
 ing a few words in the text. Now, forasmuch as it 
 is evident, from the many various readings, that the 
 transcribers were not under a superintendent in- 
 spiration, it seems upon the whole more reasonable 
 to suppose an error in some of tlie first copies, which 
 may have extended itself to all the rest, tlian to 
 suppose the original erroneous, for the reason given 
 before, Schol. l.f 
 
 3. If any cases do occur, in which neither of the 
 former solutions can take place, it seems reason- 
 able to conclude ( cat. par.) that where the writers of 
 the New Testament differ from each other in their 
 accounts, those of them who were apostles, rather 
 than the others, have given us the exact truth, and 
 wcie under a plenary superintendency, considering 
 the peculiar dignity of the apostolic ollice ; and 
 accordingly some have observed that there is little 
 apparent difference, if any, between Matthew and 
 John : but there seems no necessity for having re- 
 course to this expedient ; and as to placing stories 
 in a different order, it is certain that the best his- 
 torians do not always confine themselves to that of 
 time ; and the hasty manner in which t!ie Evangel- 
 ists must write, in the midst of their labours and 
 dangers, may be an abundant excuse for setting 
 things down as they came into mind. 
 
 Btza in Alls vii. 14. Calv. Harm, in Matt. 
 xxvii. 9. p. 3M ; Acts vii. 16. Apud Dodd. 
 Fam. Exp. vol. iii. Prrf. ad fin. Jones a<j. 
 Whist, c. iv. p. 21. 
 And it deserves to be seriously considered, 
 whether what of difficulty remains from the agree- 
 
 • Rpferrinj lo the notes in llie Family Expositor. 
 
 + Several instani es ot tlie <li(fii nlli,s wlii. Ii may be removed by 
 yanoilH readmuji, will be found in Micliaeli»'« Observations on the Suli. 
 jerl, in the first volume of his lutroUuction to the New Tcslaiiieut, as 
 uefure referred to. 
 
 ment of Mark and Luke in the order of their stories, 
 where they both differ from Matthew, may not easily 
 be accounted for by supposing that Luke look Mark 
 for the ground-work of his Gospel, and contented 
 himself with changing his language into purer 
 Greek, and adding a great number of important 
 particulars, which had not been recounted by him, 
 but which Luke collected from credible witnesses. 
 (Compare Luke i. 1 — 4. where it is possible avwOtv 
 may refer to early facts omitted by Mark.) This 
 seems rather more probable, than that Mark was an 
 abridgment of Luke ; which might be another hy- 
 pothesis for solving the objection. 
 
 Middl. Posth. Works, vol. ii. p. 229. Benson's 
 Hist, of Christ, vol. ii. p. 295. 
 
 LECTURE CXL. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 An objection, nearly akin to the former, is taken 
 from the difference there is between the quotations 
 from the Old Testament, as they stand in the New, 
 and the original ; which must at least have argued 
 some failure in the memory of the apostles. — This 
 Mr. Whiston answers, by supposing that wherever 
 there is a variation, the Jews have corrupted the 
 present copies of the Old Testament, on purpose to 
 disparage the New : but we wave this, for reasons 
 given in Prop. 107. nor will it be sullicient to say 
 the apostles quoted from the Seventy, since all their 
 (luotations do not exactly agree with that, nor in- 
 deed perfectly with each other. Compare Matt, 
 xiii. 14, 15. Mark iv. 12. Luke viii. 10. John xii. 
 40. Acts xxviii. 26. Rom. xi. 8. in which Isa. vi. 
 9, 10. is quoted or referred to with some variety. 
 We, therefore, choose rather to allow that this is 
 indeed an objection against their being under a 
 plenary inspiration of suggestion ; but forasmuch 
 as they nowhere assert that tlieir quotations were 
 lileralhj exact, they might be under a superintend- 
 ent inspiration, if the sense were as they represent 
 it, wherever they argue from the quotation ; and as 
 for other passages, which are only introduced by 
 way of allusion, (as many evidently are,) it was much 
 less requisite the quotations should be exact there. 
 We may also observe. That the vaiiety with which 
 the Fathers quote the same texts both from the C)ld 
 Testament and New, is a further argument against 
 Mr. Whiston's hypothesis ; and indeed it appears 
 that the most accurate writers among the ancient 
 Classics vary in many places from the originals 
 they quote, — which, considering the form of their 
 books, is no wonder. 
 
 Whist. Ess. for rest. Old. Test. p. 12. Collins' s 
 Gr. <5-c. p. 97. 
 
90ft 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCUOLll'M 7. 
 
 II lias been iirj!;ed as the stronp^cst objection of 
 all, That the apostles often arf^iie from passapics in 
 the Old Testament, where not only the words, but 
 the original sense, appears so difl'erent from the pur- 
 pose to which it is produced, that it were unreason- 
 able to imagine the arn;ument conclusive, and con- 
 sequently the superinfendeney of their inspiration 
 plenary ; since they assert it as a fact, that (he 
 things to w hich they apply such and such passages 
 were referred to in them, of ■which the following 
 quotations, among many others, are a specimen : — 
 Matt. i. 23; ii. 15, 18,23; viii. 17; xxvii. 9, 10. 
 Gal. iii. IG. — To this it is answered, 
 
 1. That in several of these passages the reasoning 
 of the apostles appears to be well founded, as we 
 have endeavoured to show in our notes upon them, 
 and as will frequently appear upon the justest 
 principles of analogy, even where the direct refer- 
 ence is not so apparent. To wliich it is to be added, 
 That where the original meaning of a passage on 
 the whole appears diihioux, the sense given by an 
 apostle is certainly to be preferred to another, 
 which, from examining the text alone, miglit ap- 
 pear equally probable, especially considering how 
 indeterminate many forms in speaking used in the 
 Hebrew language are, and how great an obscurity 
 lies upon many passages in the Old Testament, and 
 may well be expected in prophetic writings. — See 
 Prop. 112. Cor. 2. 
 
 2. The phrase. This was fulfilled, or this was done 
 that it might he fiiljillcd, (though Mr. Peirce makes 
 a great distinction between these two,) does not 
 always imply that the passage referred to was a 
 prediction of the event ; but only that the event re- 
 corded was attended with such circumstances, as 
 that the prophecy quoted upon the occasion might, 
 with great propriety of expression, be accommodated 
 to it ; and in this solution we choose to acquiesce, 
 rather than to say that the misapplication of pro- 
 phecies might be consistent with plenary inspira- 
 tion as to the truth of facts ; for, as wc shall after- 
 wards more particularly observe, the understanding 
 the prophecies of the Old Testament was a mira- 
 culous gift, imparted not only to the apostles, but 
 to other Christians inferior to them ; and many have 
 thought it to be the word of hnoicledye spoken of in 
 1 Cor. xii. 8. 
 
 Collins's Gr. ^-c. part. i. c. viii. p. 39. Syhcs's 
 Chris, c. xiii. p. 206. Jeffries's Rev. c. viii. 
 p. 164, &c. Chand. on Mir. part ii. c. xi. p. 
 338. Peirce on Phil, ad fin. Diss. ii. Warb. 
 Div. Leg. vol. ii. lib. vi. c. G. Middh Posth. 
 Works, vol.ii. p. 349. Har. on Man, vol. ii. 
 Prop. 33.* Ketinic. on Isa. vii. 14. 
 
 * All amnic discussion of this subject will be found iu a recent pub- 
 lication of Dr. Henry Owen, entitled The Modes of Quotation used by 
 the Evangelical Writers, explained and vindirited. Michaclis has 
 
 SCHOLIUM S. 
 
 There is a great deal of reason to believe that 
 many things contained in the New Testament were 
 written by an inspiration of suggestion ; since the 
 aposUcs sometimes expressly assert tliat they re- 
 ceived what they wrote by revelation from Christ ; 
 and this is peculiarly applicable to the prophetic 
 part of their writings. — Compare J^ph. iii. 3, 5. 
 Gal. i. 12. 1 Cor. ii. 10, &e. ; xi. 23. It is also 
 exceedingly probable that they were frequently in- 
 structed in an extraordinary manner, not only as to 
 the matter about which they wrote, but likewise as 
 to the language they should use, 1 Cor. ii. 13. and 
 whoever peruses their writings attentively, will find 
 they frequently express themselves, even when they 
 wrote upon particular occasions, in phrases of such 
 latitude and extent, as would make their writings 
 abundantly more useful to Christians in all suc- 
 ceeding ages, than they could have been, had they 
 confined themselves closely to the particular occa- 
 sion, as some who have paraphrased their writings 
 have done : a circumstance in which it is probable 
 they had a particular divine direction, and upon 
 observing wliich, the just interpretation of their 
 witings will greatly depend ; but it docs not seem 
 reasonable to believe that every word which the 
 apostles wrote was dictated to them by an imme- 
 diate revelation ; for (as was before observed) there 
 are not only many things which they might have 
 written without such a revelation, but, moreover, 
 on such an hypothesis there could have been no 
 room at all for such a distinction as the apostle 
 makes, 1 Cor. vii. 10, 12, 2.'j. between what he and 
 what the Lord says ; nor could we suppose that, if 
 this had been the case, they would ever have quoted 
 the words of the Old Testament otherwise than 
 exactly as they were written, or that they eriuld 
 ever have spoken with that nncertainty, with which 
 they sometimes express tlicmselves as to some 
 future events, 1 Cor. xvi. .'>, G. compared with 2 Cor. 
 i. l;j — 17. Rom. xv. 24, 28. compare also 1 Cor. i. 
 14, IG ; iv. 19 ; xvi. 7. Phil. ii. 19, 23, 24. 1 Tim. 
 iii. 14, 15. 2 John ver. 12. 3 John ver. 14. It must 
 also be acknowledged that there are some imper- 
 fections, and some peculiarities of style, which 
 probably there would not have been, had the 
 apostles always written by an inspiration of sug- 
 gestion : yet this is upon the whole no dishonour 
 to the sacred Scriptures ; since by this means they 
 are more adapted to answer their general end, as 
 containing surer marks of their genuineness, and 
 laying open the heart and character of the persons 
 by whom they were written more effectually than 
 they could have done, had these writers been 
 
 devoted a cli;ipfer to the same snt)jcrt, in whirh lliprc are irnny obsor- 
 vations deserving of notice— See his liitro<Uu tion to the New Testa, 
 ment, vol. i. p. 200.— See also Mr. Marsh's additional Uemarks, ib. p. 
 466. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 395 
 
 merely the organs of the Holy Ghost, in such a 
 manner as some have supposed. 
 
 * Edw. of Scr. vol. i. p. 32. Owen on Scrip. 
 
 c. i. § 22. p. 25. Whitb. on N. Test. vol. i. 
 
 Pre/. § 2. p. 3. Lou t/i on Insp. p. 62. B}ir- 
 
 net on Art. p. 85. Till. Works, vol. iii. p. 
 
 448. La Mothe. on Insp. part ii. chap. i. 
 
 LECTURE CXLI. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXVII. 
 Where supernatural gifts and powers arc spoken 
 of as distinct, the former may express some inw aid 
 illumination, and the latter some extraordinarj' 
 eflect produced by God, in consequence of some 
 word or action of that person, to whom the power 
 is said to belong. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXVII. 
 To take a more particular survey of the gifts and 
 powers of the apostles, according to that account of 
 them which is given in the New Testament. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Sect. I. The chief of their spiritual gifts (per- 
 haps so called in allusion to Psal. Ixviii. 18. com- 
 pared with Eph. iv. 7. 8.) are most particularly 
 enumerated 1 Cor. xii. 8 — 10. and seem most pro- 
 bable to have been thus distinguished. — There was, 
 
 1. The word of wisdom, or a full and clear 
 understanding of the whole scheme of Christian 
 doctrines, whereby they were able to make men 
 wise to salvation, 1 Cor. ii. 0. 7. Eph. iii. 10. com- 
 pare 2 Pet. iii. 15. This fitted them to make the 
 most perfect declaration of the Gospel ; on account 
 of which the apostles are represented as under 
 Christ the foundation of the Christian Church, 
 Eph. ii. 20. Rev. xxi. 14. comp. Matt. xvi. 18. 
 
 Bens. Prop, of Chris, vol. i. p. 40. Chand. on 
 Joel, p. 133. Barrington's Misc. Sacra, Ess. 
 i. p. 39. Warb. Str. vol. i. p. 211. 
 
 2. The word of knowled<;e, which Lord Bar- 
 rington and J)r. Benson think to have consisted in 
 an extraordinary ability to understand and explain 
 the sense and design of the Old Testament, and 
 especially its reference to Christ and his gospel ; 
 compare Rom. xvi. 25, 20. 1 Pet. i. 11, 12. Rom. 
 ii. 20. 1 Tim. vi. 20. By this gift they were freed 
 
 * Tlic style of the New Testament lias been a great object of cxamin- 
 ation and debate. Mr. Anthony Blackwall, in his celebrated worl<, 
 entitled. The Sacred Classics defended and illu.strated, has endeavoured 
 to support the purity, propriety, and eloi|iance of the lan^niaue used 
 by the apostolical and evangelical writers. Dr. Campbell is of a dif. 
 ferent opinion, and lia.s made some particular strictures on Mr. Itlack- 
 wall's positions. The Doctor has, likewise, considered nt l.irKe the 
 nature of the .style of the New Testament, and its peculiar idioms. See 
 the Preliminary Dissertations to his Translation of the Four (Jospels, 
 vol. i |i 1 ; ib. p. .32. The language of the New Testament is like, 
 wise treated of very copiously, and in a great variety of view.s, by 
 Michaelis, latrod. vol. i. p. 97. For Mr. Marsh's notes, see ib. p. 388. 
 
 from those prejudices which they had imbibed, 
 relating to the perpetuity of the Mosaic law, and 
 the temporal grandeur of the Messiah's kingdom ; 
 by this their want of skill in the original Hebrew, 
 or of acquaintance with the Greek version, was 
 supplied ; and they were enabled to remove scruples 
 arising in the minds of the .Jews, and to clear up 
 and set in the strojigest light that part of the evi- 
 dence of Christianity which depended upon their 
 Scriptures. Barring. Ess. p. 42. Bens. ib. p. 46. 
 
 That this was given to the apostles and primitive 
 Christians is certain ; but that it was called the word 
 of hwu lcdye, seems not fully proved by the quota- 
 tions above. Dr. Chandler supposes that the word 
 of knowledge was but a lower degree of the word of 
 wisdom ; i. e. a capacity of discovering the Christian 
 scheme with a convincing evidence to the minds of 
 others ; and quotes Rom. xv. 14. 1 Cor. i. 5, 6. 
 2 Cor. ii. 14 ; viii. 7. Eph. i. 17, 18. with some other 
 Scriptures for that purpose. 
 
 Chand. on Joel, p. 150, &c. Warb. ubi supra. 
 
 3. They had the gift of discerning spirits, i, e. 
 of knowing hy what spirit a man spoke who pre- 
 tended to inspiration, of knowing the secrets of 
 men's hearts in some instances, and judging of the 
 fitness of a person's genius and character for any 
 particular office and station in the church ; but Dr. 
 Chandler explains it only of the former, referring 
 the latter effects to prophecy. 
 
 Bens. ib. p. 48. Stcbbiiig ag. Fost. Let. 2. p. 40. 
 Post. 2d Lett, to Stebb. Chand. on Joel, p. 
 142. 
 
 4. They had also the gift of prophecy, in that 
 superior degree which related to foretelling future, 
 or discovering secret, events ; and in that inferior 
 sense of the word in which it is often used to express 
 officiating in public worship, by preaching, prayer, 
 or singing. — 1 Cor. xiv. pass. pras. ver. 24, 25. 
 
 Bens. ib. p. 70. Chand. on Joel, p. 138. 
 
 5. They had also the gift of tongues, or an ability 
 of readily and intelligibly speaking a variety of 
 languages which they had never learnt ; which 
 (though infamously represented by Morgan) was a 
 most glorious and important attestation of the 
 Gospel, as well as a suitable, and indeed, in their 
 circumstances, a necessary, furniture for the mis- 
 sion for which the apostles and their assistants were 
 designed. Nor is there any reason with Dr. Mid- 
 dlcton to understand it as merely an occasional 
 gift, so that a person might speak a language most 
 fluently one hour, and be entirely ignorant of it the 
 next ; which neither agrees with what is said of the 
 abuse of it, nor would have been sufficient to answer 
 the end proposed. 
 
 Morg. Moral Phil. vol. ii. p. 231. Leland ag. 
 Morg. vol. ii. p. 225. Bens. ib. p. 58. 
 Chand. ib. p. 143. Middl. Free In</. Prrf. 
 
396 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 p. 23. Waib. Doct. Grace, p. 6. sm. ed. 
 Jortin's Rem. vol. i. p. 15. Middl. Essay on 
 Gift of Tongues ; Misc. Works, vol. ii. p. 379, 
 &c. Warb. Ser. vol. i. p. 176. Essai/ on 
 Gift of Tony lies. 
 
 6. Tlicy had also the gift of interpreting tongues ; 
 so that in a mixed assembly, consisting of persons 
 of diflcrent nations, if one spoke in a language 
 understood by one part, another could repeat and 
 translate what he said into dillerent languages 
 understood by others. — Whether these versions were 
 made of tlie whole discourse when ended, or sen- 
 tence by sentence, we cannot certainly say ; but if 
 the latter method were used, it would not seem so 
 strange to them as to us, if we may credit the account 
 given of the method of interpreting the Scripture in 
 the Jewish synagogues. — Vid. 1 Cor. xiv. 5, 6, 13. 
 Jones's Jew. Ant. § 318, and 334. MS. Bens. 
 ib. p. 60. Chand. on Joel, p. 1 46. 
 
 Some have supposed that Paul had a gift peculiar 
 to himself, i. e. of knowing in some cases what 
 passed in his absence, as well as if he had been 
 present, 1 Cor. v. 3, 4. Col. ii. 5. comj)are 2 Kings 
 V. 25, 26; vi. 8 — 12. but it is certain this did not 
 habitually reside in him; as indeed it is uncertain, 
 whether many of the most wonderful of tlicse gifts 
 and powers did witliout interruption dwell in any 
 mere man whatsoever. — Compare John iii. 34. 
 
 Sect. II. The most considerable miraculous 
 POWERS of the apostles w ere these : — 
 
 1. The power of inflicting supernatural punish- 
 ments, and even death itself, by a word speaking, on 
 bold and daring oll'enders. — Vid. Acts v. 1 — 11 ; 
 xiii. 10, 11. 2 Cor. x. 6, 8, 9 ; xiii. 2, 3, 10. and 
 as evil angels might sometimes be the instruments 
 of inflicting these temporal judgments, it is pro- 
 bable these may be referred to when persons are 
 said to be by the apostles delivered to Satan. — 1 Cor. 
 V, 4, 5. 1 Tim. i. 20. 
 
 Bens. ib. vol. i. p. 52. Bar. Ess. ii. p. 51. 
 
 2. The apostles seem to have been endowed with 
 an extraordinary degree of fortitude, far beyond 
 what they naturally had ; but necessary for the 
 scenes of extraordinary difficulty and suffering 
 through w hich they were to pass. — Acts ii. 36 ; iv. 
 5—13, 19, 33 ; v. 28, &e. ; viii. 1. 
 
 Bens. ib. p. 61. Garthhut on C/ir. Resur. p. So. 
 
 Their extraordinary degree of sincerity, diligence, 
 and activity, patience, love to men's souls, and 
 other uncommon virtues and graces, might also be 
 mentioned as further illustrating this head. 
 
 Barringt. Ess. p. 47. 
 
 3. The apostles had also a power of performing 
 the most extraordinary cures, and even of raising 
 the dead ; and some of those kinds of miracles 
 which were not peculiar to them, were wrought by 
 
 them in a superior manner. — Vid. Acts v. 15 ; ix. 
 36 — 12 ; xix. 1 1 , 12 ; XX. 12. Barringt. ib. p. 53. 
 
 4. The apostles had also a power (which, as it 
 seems, was ])cculiar to themselves) of giving the 
 miraculous gifts of the Spirit to others by laying on 
 tlicir hands ; and tlicre were very few who received 
 it otherwise than by that means. — Acts viii. 14 — 19. 
 John xiv. 12. Rom. i. 11, 12. 2 Tim. i. 6. Gal. 
 iii. 2, 3, 5. 1 Thess. i. 5 ; v. 19, 20. 1 Cor. i. 4—7. 
 2 Cor. xii. 12, 13. Acts xix. 1—7. For the further 
 illustration of this. Dr. Benson has asserted that the 
 Holy Ghost never fell immediately on any but our 
 Lord after his baptism, and the apostles, first on the 
 day of Pentecost, and a second time mentioned 
 Acts iv. 31. on the Eunuch, Acts viii. .39, (according 
 to the Alexandrian reading,) on Saul after his bap- 
 tism, on the first-fruits of the devout Gentiles 
 before baptism. Acts x. 44. and on the first-fruits 
 of the idolatrous Gentiles of Antioch in Pisidia, 
 Acts xiii. 62. — but the instance of the Eunuch, 
 with that of the devout Gentiles, is precarious ; and 
 indeed the case of the Gentiles at Antioch seems to 
 be far from so extraordinary a one as Dr. Benson 
 would make it ; and the foundation for supposing it 
 so, i. e. the difi'erent periods for preaching the 
 Gospel to the devout, and then to the idolatrous, 
 Gentiles, is a mere unsupported hypothesis. That 
 the phrase of being fiUed with the Holy Ghost, does 
 not signify any thing so singular as he supposes, 
 appears from comparing Eph. v. 18. and many 
 other places where the phrase is used. — See Fam. 
 Expos, vol. iii. on the places cited above. 
 
 Bens. ib. vol. i. p. 64 ; vol. ii. p. 11. Lei. ag. 
 Morg. vol. i. p. 382. Barr. Ess. i. p. 101. 
 More's Scr. on Miracles. 
 
 LECTURE CXLII. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It does not seem reasonable to mention the power 
 which the apostles had of binding and loosing, of 
 remitting or retaining sins, as a gift or power dis- 
 tinct from the preceding (compare Matt. xvi. 19 ; 
 xviii. 18. John xx. 23.) ; for if this be understood 
 of declaring in an authentic manner what was law- 
 ful under the Christian dispensation, they were 
 furnished with that by the word of wisdom, with 
 which therefore this gift or power taken in this 
 sense would coincide : — if it be taken for inflicting 
 or removing calamities sent as miraculous punish- 
 ments of sin, it will coincide with that power men- 
 tioned § 2. gr. 1,3.; and if it should be explained 
 of declaring to particular persons that their sins 
 were forgiven, they could only do it by virtue of 
 their extraordinary gift of discerning spirits, § l.gr. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 397 
 
 3. -wliereby they would be able to judge of the sin- 
 cere faith and repentance of the person concerned. 
 
 Bens. ib. p. 50, &c. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 This particular survey of the extraordinary fur- 
 niture of the apostles for their work, confirms the 
 arguments advanced above to prove the inspiration 
 of their writings, which appear in fact to have been 
 intended for the service and guidance of the church 
 in all future ages. To this Dr. Morgan has ob- 
 jected. That as these gifts were plainly capable of 
 abuse, (compare 1 Cor. xiv.) no argument could 
 from thence be drawn as to the divine inspiration of 
 those who were possessed of them ; but, in answer 
 to this, we must distinguish with respect to these 
 gifts and powers. The uord of wisdom and oUinoiv- 
 ledge, as explained above, could not be abused as 
 occasion of error, the truth of the things taught 
 being essential to the exercise of the gifts them- 
 selves, and false pretences to them being discovered 
 by that of discerning spirits. The gift of healing 
 was not a permanent thing (compare Prop. IIC. 
 Schol. 3. sub Jin.) ; and as for the gift of speaking 
 with tonijurs, the miracle of that lay in conferring 
 it by imposition of hands, not in using it after it 
 was conferred. So that, on the whole, there is no 
 foundation to believe that any miraculous gifts or 
 powers were used in confirmation of falsehood in 
 any case, though they might be used in confirma- 
 tion of truth by very bad men ; which is all that is 
 insinuated, Matt. vii. 22. Compare for further 
 illustration. Gal. iii. 2, 5. Rom. xvi. 18. 1 Cor. iv. 
 18 — 20. 2 Cor. xii. 12. et sim. Col. ii. 4. Jude ver. 
 16. which passages, when compared together, fur- 
 ther show, or intimate, that miraculous works or 
 powers were peculiar to the teachers of truth, 
 j Morg. Mar. Phil. vol. i. p. 80. Cliapm. at). 
 
 Morr/. vol. i. p. 300. Lil. ag. Morg. vol. i. 
 
 0. xiii. p. 374. Bens, on Epist. vol. i. App. 
 
 to 1 Tim. 
 
 As for 2 Thcss. ii. 9. it seems the words in ques- 
 tion might be rendered ////"// signs, wonders, and 
 miracles, i. e. fictitious and pretended miracles, such 
 as the Romish clmrcli has apparently dealt in ; 
 and Matt. xxiv. 24. evidently relates to false 
 teachers in the early ages of Cliristianity, when 
 there was a superior miraculous power in the 
 church ; such perhaps as Elymas and Simon 
 Magus ; so that, by the way, there is no proof from 
 Scripture of any miracles having been wrought to 
 confirm falsehood, which have not been opposed by 
 , superior miracles ; nor can any one prove that this 
 I shall ever be the case, as was in part intimated 
 above, Prop. 94. Schol. 2. Bens, uhi supra, 142. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 If it could be certainly made out, which I ap- 
 ■ prebend it cannot, that there is an irreconcilable 
 
 difference between any circumstances in the his- 
 tory, and that there was so in the original, it would 
 ( cat. pur.) on those principles seem most reason- 
 able to adjust the testimony of those who were not 
 apostles by that of those who werp, according to 
 Sir Isaac Newton's schenie of the harmony ; for it 
 is not so certain that Peter review ed Mark's Gos- 
 pel, and Paul Luke's, as that IMatthew and John 
 were the authors of those published under their 
 name (vid. Prop. 116. gr. 8.) ; and the concurrence 
 of Mark and Luke in their order, can be no just 
 objection to this, especially if the conjecture ib. 
 Sell. 5. sub Jinemhe admitted. 
 
 Dodd. Diss, on Newt. Harm. ap. Fam. Expos. 
 
 vol. iii. App. No. iii. Sir I. Newt, on Proph. 
 
 lib. 1. c. xi. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 As the endowments of the apostles were so ex- 
 traordinary and peculiar, there is no reason to 
 believe they had any proper successors in the 
 Christian church, unless it can be proved there are 
 some who succeeded to their gifts and powers, by 
 which they were furnished for their extraordinary 
 work. 
 
 Boyse's Worlis, vol. ii. p. 271. Barr. Misc. 
 Sac, vol. ii. Ess. ii. pass. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 The Avhole foundation of Popery, as a distinct 
 religion, is therefore overthrown ; since that not 
 only supposes the contrary to the preceding corol- 
 larj', but also adds a great many other suppositions 
 still more extravagant: for, (as we shall elsewhere 
 more largely show,) there is no evidence that Peter 
 had any superiority over the rest of the apostles ; or 
 if he had, that he had any who were his successors 
 in that extraordinary power; or that those succes- 
 sors w ere Roman bishops ; or that the bishop 
 of Rome is legally by succession possessed of it; 
 yet r.ll these things, some of which are notoriously 
 false, and others of such a nature that they can 
 never be proved to be true on their own principles, 
 must be taken for granted, before tliat authority of 
 declaring the sense of Scripture can be vindicated, 
 which the church of Rome has arrogated to herself, 
 and upon which her other most extravagant claims 
 and most absurd doctrines are founded. 
 
 Led. ag. Popery, No. iii. and iv. Burnet's 
 
 Four Disc. No. iii. Barr. on Pope's Sap. 
 
 pass. ap. Opera, vol. i. juxla finem. Neal's 
 
 and Smith's Svrm. in the Snlters Hall Serm. 
 
 ag. Poperif. Dodd. Misc. Lcct. ag. Popery. 
 SCIIOLII'M 1. 
 
 Several of the gifts and jiowers mentioned in the 
 proposition, appear to have been imparted to Chris- 
 tians of inferior order ; not only to prophets, evan- 
 gelists, elders, or bishops, and other teachers, but 
 also to those who made up the congregations under 
 
398 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 their care ; particularly the pift of prophecy, that of 
 speakinn- witii anil interpreting tonj^ues, and dis- 
 ccrninsj spirits : with regard to the former of which 
 Dr. Benson thinks some arc called Helps ; and, 
 with regard to the latter, Governments, as they 
 were called, to assist both in instructing and guiding 
 of the church, 1 Cor. xii. 8 — 10, 28. though Dr. 
 Chandler is of opinion, that the helps were persons 
 of extraordinary liherality, raised up by God to be 
 helpful to otliers by their own generous contribu- 
 tions ; and that the governments were deacons, 
 whose business it was to preside over the distribu- 
 tion of charities ; — Acts vi. 3. Rom. xvi. 2. which 
 may considerably illustrate Rom. xii. 8. Dr. Ben- 
 son thinks it probable that there were few, if any, 
 in the primitive church, who did not receive these 
 gifts, though jierhaps they might all of them meet in 
 none but the apostles, to whom the uord of wisdom 
 seems to have been peculiar. 
 
 Bens, on Proph. vol. i. p. G6. Barr. Ess. vol, 
 
 i. p. 118 ; ibid. p. 74. Chandler on Joel, p. 
 
 131. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 There is a difficulty attending the gift of the iw 
 terpretation of tonyues, which has not been observed 
 by those who have written upon the subject, and 
 may here deserve our notice ; viz. how a person 
 speaking with tongues sliould need to pray that he 
 might interpret, (1 Cor. xiv. 13.) without supposing 
 that he spoke by such a miraculous impulse as ren- 
 dered him merely the organ of the Spirit of God, 
 which Mould be inconsistent with our answer to 
 Morgan, under the second corollary. It is obvious 
 to answer. That there might be persons in an audi- 
 ence of various nations, and consequently the per- 
 son speaking (supposing to both Romans and Per- 
 sians, himself being a Greek speaking Latin) might 
 not be able to interpret to them all, as in the given 
 instance into Persian ; but then it may be answered, 
 this was for want of another tongue, which is not 
 here supposed to be the case ; and, therefore, per- 
 haps it will be impossible fully to remove the diffi- 
 culty, without supposing there were some who, 
 though they could speak no tongue but their own, 
 were yet miraculously enabled to interpret into it 
 what should be spoken in any other tongue, which 
 would make this office, though it were only bearing 
 a secondary part, very excellent, and the gift itself 
 very extraordinary. Chand. on Joel, ubi s^ip. 
 
 LECTT^RE CXLIir. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXVIII. 
 The Old Testament was written by a superintend- 
 ent inspiration. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. lU). 1. Moses was a person raised up by 
 God for eminent service, favoured with miraculous 
 powers and frequent divine revelations, on the 
 authority with which his whole law was introduced 
 and received. Hart, on Man, vol. ii. p. 88. 
 
 2. The work which Moses undertook of writing 
 the history, not only of his own acts and institu- 
 tions, but also the dispensations of God to mankind 
 in preceding ages, was a work of great importance, 
 and of such dilliculty, that without extraordinary 
 divine assistance he would not have been able to 
 |)erform it in such a manner as might have been 
 depended upon, and consequently might have an- 
 swered the design. 
 
 1, 2. 3. There is reason to believe that Moses 
 wrote by a superintendent inspiration. 
 
 4. Joshua, Samuel, David, Solomon, Isaiah, 
 Jeremiah, Ezekicl, Daniel, Hosea, Joel, Amos, 
 Obadiah, Jonas, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zc- 
 phaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi, were all 
 prophets, if the historical part of the Old Testament 
 is to be believed (which we proved above. Prop. 
 110.) ; and, therefore, we have reason to believe that 
 their minds were so superintended in writing not 
 only those historical facts which they mention, 
 but likewise those messages which many of them 
 declare they received from God, as that they should 
 be preserved at least from all material mistakes, 
 which would have brought a disgrace upon those 
 messages which in the name of God they delivered, 
 and so have frustrated the design of them ; which 
 in many cases could not have been answered, with- 
 out an exact transmission of them to posterity, as 
 several of those predictions referred to distant, and 
 some of them to very complicated, events, and con- 
 tain particular circumstances, which, if not exactly 
 authentic, must have been very hazardous. 
 
 5. Many discourses recorded in the historical 
 parts of these writings, as delivered by others, or 
 given to them in charge by God, were so long and 
 so circumstantial, that they could not be exactly 
 recorded without some extraordinary divine assist- 
 ance ; and some of the most important of them, i. e, 
 those relating to the Messiah, were not understood 
 by the prophets themselves who delivered them, (1 
 Pet. i. 10 — 12.) and consequently were less likely 
 to be remembered with such exactness as, accord- 
 ing to gr. .5. was necessary. 
 
 6. Ezra and Nehemiah were persons of such emi- 
 nent stations and piety, and so intimately conver- 
 sant with the prophets Haggai, Zechariah, and 
 Malachi, that we may reasonably believe that pro^ 
 per assistances, either ordinary or extraordinary, as 
 the case required, would be given them in their 
 writings. 
 
 7. Though the authors of the books of Judges, 
 Ruth, and Kings, Chronicles, Esther, and Job, 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 39» 
 
 should be allowed to be unknown, tbere is great 
 reason to believe they were some of those iioly and 
 prophetic men with which the nation of the Jews 
 did so much abound ; and that what was said under 
 the preceding steps may with considerable pro- 
 bability be applied to them, at least in some degree. 
 
 Prop. liO. 8. The provision that was made for 
 conducting the Jewish people by divine oracles, 
 given (though we know not particularly how) by 
 the U>-iin and Thummim, and by prophets raised up 
 in almost every age, makes it highly probable, that 
 those who were providentially employed in trans- 
 mitting to us the history of that nation, Avould 
 have some peculiar assistance, greater than could 
 ( cat. par.) be expected in other writers. 
 
 ■ 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. 9. So far as we are able to judge, 
 from surveying the particular characters and cir- 
 cumstances of the authors of the various books of 
 the Old Testament, in comparison with the genius 
 of that dispensation under which they lived and 
 wrote, there is reason to believe they were under a 
 superintendent inspiration. 
 
 ■ 10. Though it be extremely difficult to conclude 
 from any excellency in the style and manner of 
 writing, that a book is divinely inspired, and espe- 
 cially that there is that superintendency over the 
 M hole of it,— yet we must acknowledge, that in the 
 books of the Old Testament, as well as the New, 
 there are such important truths, such sublime 
 figures, and such majestic and pathetic expressions, 
 as can hardly be equalled any where else, and 
 which appear so worthy of God, as to give some 
 degree of additional weight to the other arguments 
 brought upon this head. — Compare Prop. 110. ^r. 3. 
 
 Nichols's Coiif. vol. iv. p. 139. Boyle's Style 
 of Script, p. 7. 
 
 11. The ancient Jews had a tradition among them, 
 that these books were written by divine inspiration ; 
 and therefore received them as canonical, i. t. as a 
 rule of faith and manners. 
 
 Joseph contr. App. lib. i. p. 1036, Col. 1333, 
 Huds. 
 
 12. The grand argument of all is, that Christ and 
 his apostles were so far from accusing the Jews of 
 superstition, in tlie regard which they paid to the 
 writings of the Old Testament, (vid. ffr. 11.) or 
 from charging the Scribes and Pharisees (whom 
 Christ, on all proper occasions, censured so freely) 
 with having introduced into the sacred volume 
 mere human compositions, that, on the contrary, 
 they not only recommend the diligent and constant 
 perusal of them, as of the greatest importance to 
 men's eternal happiness, but speak of thcin as divine 
 oracles, and as written by an extraordinary inllucnce 
 of the Divine Spirit upon the minds of the authors. 
 Vid. John v. 39 ; x. 35. Mark xii. 24. Matt. iv. 4, 7, 
 10; V. 17, 18; xxi. 42; xxii. 29, 31, 43; xxiv. 15; 
 
 xxvi. 54, 56. Luke i. 67, 69, 70 ; x. 26, 27 ; xvi. 31. 
 Acts iv. 25; xvii. 11; xviii. 24 — 28. Rom. iii. 2; 
 XV. 4 ; xvi. 26. Gal. iii. 8. 1 Tim. v. 17, 18. 2 Tim. 
 iii. 14—17. James ii. 8; iv. 5. 1 Pet. i. 10—12. 
 2 Pet. i. 19 — ^21. To this list may be added many 
 other places, on the whole more than five hundred, 
 in which the sacred writers of the New Testament 
 quote and argue from those of the Old, in such a 
 manner as they would not surely have done, if they 
 had apprehended there were room to allege that it 
 contained at least a mixture of what was spurious 
 and of no authority. Lou th on Insp. p. 183. 
 
 9, 10, 11, 12. 13. There is reason to believe that 
 books written by such persons, under such a dis- 
 pensation, and in such a manner as has been 
 described, received with such unanimous regard 
 by the Jewish church, and reconimended in such a 
 manner by Christ and his apostles, were written by 
 a superintendent inspiration. Q. E. D. 
 
 Jenh. on Chris, vol. i. p. 226. part ii. c. ii. p. 
 
 228. Fam. Expos, vol. iii. App. No. iii. 
 
 Posth. p. 61. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Comparing this with Prop. 116. it appears that 
 the whole Scripture received by the reformed is 
 divinely inspired. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Hence it will further follow, that in all our in- 
 quiries into the nature and will of God, and the 
 genius and design of the Christian dispensation, 
 the Scripture will be our surest rule, and no merely 
 human composures are to be received with an equal 
 degree of regard. 
 
 Chilling w. Safe Way. Middl. Intr. Disc, p, 67. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 From comparing the demonstration of this pro- 
 position with that given Prop. 116. it will appear 
 that the proof we have of the inspiration of the 
 New Testament is, on the whole, considerably 
 greater than that which we have of the inspiration 
 of the Old, if from thence we subtract that grand 
 argument which arises from the testimony of Christ 
 and his apostles ; bat setting that aside, there will 
 be the strongest evidence of the inspiration of those 
 l)Ooks on which the proof of Christianity most im- 
 mediately depends ; since that generally follows 
 from the truth of the historical part of those books, 
 and of their genuineness, which was before con- 
 firmed ; for the prophets assert it as a matter of 
 fact, that God gave them such and such revelations. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 From gr. 12. we may certainly infer, that for any 
 to pretend to exalt the character of Ciirist and of 
 Paul as divine teachers, while at the same time they 
 pour contempt upon the Jewish institutions as a 
 foolish and impious forgery, is a notorious contrar 
 diction and absurdity ; and common sense will 
 
400 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 tcacli us, lliat such authors, whatever Ihey may pro- 
 fess, do equally intend the subversion of the Old 
 Testament and the New. 
 
 Eiis. Eccl. Hist. lib. V. ad fin. Lei. ag. Morg. 
 vol. i. c. iii. p. 80. 
 
 SCIIOI.H'M 1. 
 
 We do readily allow, tl;nt there was a ^rcni va- 
 riety in the degree of inspiration in tlie different 
 books and passages of the Old Testament : there is 
 great reason to believe that the prophecies were 
 written by an inspiration of suggestioi) ; for many 
 of tlieni were so eireunistantial, and the partieular 
 expressions of them so important, that we eannot 
 imagine that God revealed only to his servants some 
 general thoughts, r. g. that Babylon should be de- 
 stroyed, .lerusalcm rebuilt, and the like, leaving 
 them to enlarge upon it as they thought fit, for then 
 they might easily have fallen into certain expres- 
 sions, which, not being exactly answered, might 
 have brought a reflection upon the truth of the 
 whole. Nevertheless, it is highly probable that in 
 these suggestions, God might sometimes, and in 
 less critical and important circumstances, leave 
 them to follow their own way of conception and ex- 
 pression, to such a degree as might occasion such 
 a variety of style as critics justly remark in different 
 books. J^ive Let. on Insp. p. 13. 
 
 SCIIOLII'M 2. 
 
 The arguments used Prop. 116. Scliol. 1. to prove 
 the inspiration of the New Testament to be a ple- 
 nary superintendency, may in a great measure be 
 applied to the Old, as we before observed : and it 
 is hard to imagine that Christ and his apostles 
 would have spoken of it in such high strains, if 
 there had l)een a mixture of error and falsehood 
 with the great and important truths it contained : 
 nevertheless, there are so many arguments brought 
 against the plenary inspiration of these books, from 
 the supposed absurdities, immoralities, and contra- 
 dictions, to be found in them, that it will be neces- 
 sary to give some of them a more particular 
 consideration in the following propositions. 
 
 LECTURE CXLIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXIX. 
 To enumerate and vindicate some of the princi- 
 pal of those passages in the Old Testament, which 
 are objected against as absurd. 
 
 SOLTTTION. 
 
 Sect. 1. Many absurdities arc charged upon the 
 Mosaic account of tlie Creation ; i'. g. the making 
 light before the sun ; the dividing the water above 
 and below the finnament by an imaginary solid par- 
 
 tition, and the making the sun, moon, and stars, in 
 one day ; not here to mention the objection which 
 is brought against the descent of the whole human 
 race from one pair. 
 
 To this Dr. Thomas Burnet answers, in his 
 Theory, by cutting the knot ; and maintains that 
 this account «as merely nfahic, though according 
 to his own reprcsenlaliou of it, a fable too absurd 
 for a wise man, and much more for an inspired 
 person, to have thrown together ; and Dr. Middle- 
 ton, in his controversy with the bishop of London, 
 has declared himself strongly in the same senti- 
 ments ; but there can surely be no reason to believe 
 this, since Moses never tells us where his fable ends, 
 and where his true history trry))/*,— especially con- 
 sidering that Christ and his apostles refer to the 
 story of the Creation, and that of the Fall, (which 
 is inseparably connected with it, and treated by 
 Burnet as a tale equally absurd,) not as an allegory, 
 but a true history, 2 Cor. iv. 6 ; xi. 3. 1 Cor. xv. 45. 
 Matt. xix. 4, 5. I Tim. ii. 13, 14. 1 Cor. xi. 8, 9. 
 and it is very harsh to suppose that God would so 
 solemnly from Mount Sinai make the circumstance 
 of a fable the foundation of the fourth command- 
 ment. — Ex. XX. 11. Heb. iv. 3, 4. 
 
 Burn. Arc/iceol. 1. ii. c. viii. ix. p. 403. 
 
 Dr. David Jennings, in a very ingenious dis- 
 course on this subject, supposes that the sun and 
 the stars were created before the earth, and that the 
 production of light, mentioned as the work of the 
 first day, was only giving the earth its diurnal mo- 
 tion, expressed, as he understands it, by " the Spirit 
 of God moving," not " upon the face of the water," 
 but " moving the face of tlie deep," i. e. the surface 
 of the unenlightened hemisphere ; which might be 
 called deep, cither as remote from the sun, or in a 
 more fluid slate than that hemisphere which might 
 have been turned towards it, and thereby dried 
 and crusted (which last, by the way, seems ill to 
 agree with Gen. i. 9, 10. Psal. civ. 6—9). He 
 supposes that on the fourth day God gave the earth 
 its annual motion, and thereby appointed those 
 luminaries of Heaven, before created and before 
 visible, to be for signs and seasons, and days and 
 years ; so that as the sun did, in another manner 
 than before, rule over the day, making it unequal 
 in different seasons, &c. the moon did with corres- 
 pondent variety rule over the night and the stars ; 
 but it may be objected to the scheme, 
 
 1. That such an interpretation offers great vio- 
 lence to several phrases in the history, v. g. God's 
 moving on the face of the water, his saying " Let 
 there be light," his making two lights, and setting 
 them in the firmament of Heaven, and appointing 
 them to have dominion over the day, and over the 
 night. To which we may add, that the moon could 
 not with any tolerable propriety be said to begin to 
 have dominion over the stars, when that little alter- 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 -101 
 
 ation was made in her course, which the annual 
 motion added to the diurnal occasions. 
 
 2. That the diurnal and annual motion of the 
 earth being each, if not both together, impressed in 
 a moment, would hardly be described as each of 
 them the work of a distinct day, as the latter espe- 
 cially must be on this hypothesis ; for it would be 
 very unreasonable to suppose that, when it is said 
 God made the sun and moon, that clause should im- 
 port the creation and formation of the moon, and 
 only the alteration of the earth's motion with regard 
 to the sun ; — not to insist upon it, 
 
 3. That if the laws of gravity took place, a pro- 
 jectile force must always have been necessary, to 
 prevent the centripetal from prevailing so far as to 
 draw the earth into the sun. 
 
 Jenn. Append, to Astron. 
 
 Mr. Whiston supposes the Mosaic story to have 
 been a kind of journal of what would have appeared 
 to the eye of a spectator upon the surface of the 
 earth ; and interprets the making of the sun, moon, 
 and stars, to have been only the gradual clearing 
 of the atmosphere of that comet, of which, accord- 
 ing to his hypothesis, the earth was made ; this 
 defecation beginning the first day, produced some 
 light, and increasing to the fourth, the sun, moon, 
 and stars, then became visible and distinct ; but 
 this seems to be connected with that very absurd 
 part of his theory, which supposes that the earth 
 had at first no diurnal motion, but that it was im- 
 pressed by the comet which occasioned the Deluge ; 
 otherwise we can never imagine that the sun, moon, 
 and stars, bodies of such different degrees of mag- 
 nitude and light, would have become visible the 
 same natural day. 
 
 Whistons Theory, prtes. p. 3. Edw. Exercit. 
 No. i. p. 1. 
 
 It seems, therefore, that the most probable hypo- 
 thesis is that of Dr. Nichols, who supposes, first, a 
 chaotic state of the whole solar system ; then, a 
 separation of the grosser particles of matter, of 
 which the primary and secondary planets were to 
 consist ; whence it would follow, that the luminous 
 particles before blended and entangled with these, 
 would acquire a greater lustre, which he supposes 
 the creation of light in its most imperfect state. 
 By the waters above the firmament , he understands 
 the atmospheres or seas of the planets, though they 
 may mean no more than vapours floating in the 
 expanse of the air, as the original word ypn signi- 
 fies. On the fourth day, he supposes the luminous 
 particles, before more equally dispersed, were 
 gathered in one central body ; whereby the little 
 planet near us became, by the reflection of its rays, 
 a moon ; which, being the most considerable of the 
 nocturnal luminaries, might, by a beautiful figure, 
 be said to rule over the night and the stars, allow- 
 2 D 
 
 ing it very probable that the fixed stars, and plane- 
 tary systems which may possibly attend them, were 
 created before. It may possibly be objected against 
 this hypothesis, that at this rate there would be no 
 distinction between day and night before the fourth 
 day ; since this imperfect luminous matter, equally 
 diffused on every side, would give the whole terres- 
 trial globe a kind of equable and universal twilight. 
 It would, therefore, be an improvement upon the 
 hypothesis, to suppose that the luminous particles 
 wei-e from the first gradually turning towards the 
 centre, though not united in it ; the consequence of 
 which would be, that the hemisphere nearest the 
 centre would then be lighter than the other. Bishop 
 Patrick thinks a luminous mass distinct from the 
 sun, and nearer the earth, was first formed, which, 
 on the fourth day, was, perhaps, with some alteration 
 to us unknown, changed into the sun. 
 
 Patrick on Gen. i. 3. 
 The chief objection against this scheme is, that 
 it does not naturally offer itself to the mind from 
 reading the Mosaic account ; but it may be replied, 
 It is sufficient, if by any interpretation it can be 
 shown that it might possibly have .been true ; and it 
 would appear an argument of great wisdom in 
 Moses, or indeed of extraordinary divine direction, 
 for him, prepossessed as he probably was, in favour 
 of the vulgar hypothesis, to give such an account of 
 the creation as should neither directly assert it, nor 
 yet so much shock it, as to throw the minds of 
 ignorant and unlearned men into speculations, 
 which might have been detrimental to his grand 
 design, of confirming them in the belief of one Al- 
 mighty Creator of Heaven and Earth, and so pre- 
 serving them from idolatry. 
 
 On the w hole, supposing that none of these hypo- 
 theses should be satisfactory, the objection pretends 
 to no more than this. That God did not observe such 
 a proportion as w e should have expected in some of 
 his works ; but it ill becomes us to limit him in such 
 a circumstance, especially as we know not certainly 
 what great ends either in the natural or moral world 
 might be answered by a deviation from it. 
 
 Nichols's Conf. vol. i. p. 90. ed. 12mo. Univ. 
 
 Hist. vol. i. p. 36. fol. Tayl. Sch. of Div. 
 
 ch. iv. or Wats. Col. Tracts, vol. i. p. 18. 
 
 Clayt. Vind. of O. Test, part i. p. 4. Jacks. 
 
 Chron. Antiq. vol. i. p. 1.* 
 
 * The Mosaic account of the Creation is particularly considered and 
 vindicated, in Moses and Bolingbroke; a Dialot^ne, in the Marnier of 
 llie Kinlit lion. •' ♦*♦**, antlior of I>iaIo};uesof the Dead, Ijy Samuel 
 Pye, M D. This worli was printed in ITM. In the first v<ihime of 
 the collection of tracts, ent-tled Commentaries ami Iv.says pnlilishcd by 
 the Society for promotin;^ the KnowIcdLce of the Scriptures, an: Critical 
 Notes on the first nineteen Verses of the first Chapter of Genesis, p. 
 83 — 03. These notes are understood to have been written by the cele. 
 brated Fri?li philosopher, Richard Kirwan, ERfj. 
 
402 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURE CXLV. 
 
 Sect. II. It i.s .said (hat the Mosaic account of 
 tlic Fall is absurd ; not only as it represents God as 
 suspending the happiness of mankind on so indif- 
 ferent a eircunistanee as his eating tlic fruit, — but 
 also supposes a brute to speak, and yet Eve to have 
 taken no alarm at it, and out of regard to what such 
 a creature said, to have viohitcd the divine com- 
 mand, and to have been guilty of a weakness, when 
 in the perfection of human nature, of which few of 
 her descendants in the present degeneracy of it 
 would be capable. 
 
 Alls. As for the offence in question, it may be 
 shown elsewhere, that how light soever it might be 
 in itself, there were circumstances of most enormous 
 aggravation attending it, which might abundantly 
 justify God in the punishment inflicted on account 
 of it. To the latter part of the objection, which is 
 indeed the chief difliculty, some (with AbarbincI) 
 have replied, that the serpent only spoke by his 
 actions, eating the fruit in the presence of Eve, and 
 .icemed rather refreshed and animated than injured 
 by it ; but we wave this : nor do we choose to say, 
 Mith Mr. Joseph Mede, that she took the serpent 
 for a wise though fallen angel, who might know 
 more of the nature of this new-formed world than 
 she, and could have no principle of enmity against 
 her, to lead him to wish her destruction. Neither 
 do we say, with Dr. Thomas Burnet, at Boyle's 
 Lectures, (after Tennison,) that she took him for 
 some attendant spirit, sent from God to revoke the 
 prohibition before given. It seems more probable 
 that the fact might be, as it is beautifully represent- 
 ed by Milton, i. e. that the serpent, being actuated 
 by an evil spirit, might pretend to have gained 
 reason and speech by that fruit, and thence might 
 infer, with some plausible appearance of argument, 
 tiiat if it was capable of producing so wonderful a 
 change in him, it might exalt the /t«/«a« nature even 
 1(1 divinity. Compare 2 Cor. xi. 3. and Rev. xx. 2. 
 Burnet Archaol. lib. ii. e. vii. p. 375. Mode's 
 
 Works, p. 23. Burn, at B. Led. vol. ii. p. 
 
 10. Milt. Par. Lost. lib. ix. Rev. exam. 
 
 n it/i Cand. vol. i. p. 16. Berry Str. Led. 
 
 vol. i. p. 202, ed. 1 ; p. 176, ed. 2. Ban: 
 
 Ess. on Div. Disp. App. Diss. i. Hunt's Ess. 
 
 p. 304. Un. Hist. vol. i. p. 59. 8vo, p. 122. 
 
 Tennis, on Idol. p. 354. Hartley on Man, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 104. Waterl. Scrip. Vindic. vol. i. 
 
 p. 12. Sherl. on Propk. Disc. ii. App. 
 
 Middlet. Exam, of Sherl. on Proph. Tayl. 
 
 Sch. of Div. ch. xi. or Wats. Travts, vol. i. 
 
 p. 49. Le Cleri's Diss. No. iv. Chand. Ser. 
 
 vol. iv. No. iii. 
 Sect. III. Others have objected against the sen- 
 tence pronounced on Eve and the serpent as absurd, 
 
 — seeing the woman could not but with pain bring 
 forth, nor the serpent go otherwise than upon his 
 breast, nor indeed be justly punished at all for a 
 crime of which lie was only the innocent instru- 
 ment. 
 
 As to what relates to the woman's bringing forth, 
 we answer, 
 
 1. That it is not absolutely impossible that some 
 alteration might be made in ihe structure of the 
 womb on that occasion ; perhaps a small alteration 
 might sufliee, considering with how little difficulty 
 most women in hot countries go through their 
 labour ; or, 
 
 2. God, knowing that the Fall would happen, 
 might constitute things in such a manner as to suit 
 a fallen state, when the event was not to take place 
 till after sin was committed; which seems to have 
 been the ease as to other instances, v. g. the damage 
 done by poisonous and voracious animals, thunder, 
 lightning, and tempests, &e. 
 
 As to that part of the objection which relates to 
 the serpent, it is probable his form might be con- 
 siderably changed, perhaps from that of a winged 
 animal ; and as this would be the means of confirm- 
 ing the faith of the penitents in their expected vic- 
 tory over the great enemy, (of which it was indeed 
 a kind of miraculous attestation,) and of mortifying 
 that evil spirit whose organ the serpent had been, 
 there could be no injustice in this, nor indeed any 
 cruelty ; for beasts being designed for the use of 
 men, we may as well grant that one species might 
 be debased to a lower kind of life for his instruction 
 and comfort, as that such multitudes of individuals 
 should be daily sacrificed to his support. 
 
 Mede's Worhs, p. 229. Rev. exam, with Cand. 
 vol. i. p. 69, &c. Jenk. Chris, vol. ii. p. 246. 
 Whiston's Life, p. 239; Adden. p. 651. Ahp. 
 King's Serm. p. 71. 
 
 Sect. IV. It is objected, That the Deluge could 
 not possibly have been universal, because no stock 
 of water could be found sufficient to overflow the 
 earth to such a degree as Moses has represented. 
 
 To this we choose not to answer by denying the 
 universality of the Deluge, as many have done, the 
 words of Moses being so express. Gen. vi. 12, 13, 
 17 ; vii. 4, 19 — 23. and indeed if it were not uni- 
 versal, there would have been no need of an ark to 
 preserve a race of men and beasts. To which we 
 may add, that the animal and vegetable fossils, dug 
 up in all parts of the world, arc demonstrative 
 proofs that the Deluge extended over the whole 
 earth ; and there is little room to doubt but the 
 number of mankind, considering their longevity, 
 would by that time have been abundantly sufficient 
 to people the earth. We therefore rather reply by 
 observing, That though the quantity of water which 
 could naturally be furnished by ruin should indeed 
 be allowed insufficient for that purpose, yet it is 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 403 
 
 possible, according to Dr. Burnet's scheme, that 
 part of the outward crusts of tlie earth might be 
 broken, and fall into the abyss, which might by that 
 means be thrown up and dashed abroad to sucli a 
 degree as to overthrow the highest mountains, which 
 he thinks then first raised. Others, as Mr. Whis- 
 ton, suppose that a comet (which his antagonist, 
 Dr. Keil, was compelled by his arguments to ac- 
 knowledge, did probably pass near the earth at that 
 time) might overwhelm it by its atmosphere. Others 
 endeavour to account for it, by supposing the centre 
 of gravity was changed, or that the waters of the 
 abyss were in an extraordinary manner drawn up 
 on this occasion ; but if none of these hypotheses 
 be admitted, there is no absurdity in supposing a 
 miraculous production of water, or a miraculous 
 removal of it ; since it is most certain, if the His- 
 tory of the Old Testament be credible, (as we 
 have before proved,) miracles have been often 
 wrought upon much less important occasions. 
 
 Burn. Theory, vol. i. lib. i. c. ii. iii. p. 10. c. vi. 
 
 p. 89. Whistoji's Theory, p. 376. Keil's 
 
 Exam, of Burn, and Whist, p. 28—34, &c. 
 
 Saurin's Diss. vol. i. p. 95. Rev. Exam. vi. 
 
 i. Diss. X. p. 171, &c. Nich. Conf. vol. ii. p. 
 
 184, &c. vol. i. p. 254. Edw. Exercit. No. ii. 
 
 p. 26, &c. Univ. Hist. vol. i. p. 95. fol. 8vo, 
 
 p. 201. Ray's Three Disc. No. ii. Clayt. 
 
 Vind. Scrip, part ii. lib. xii. p. 150. Sencc. 
 
 Quast. Nat. iii. 27. Har.on Man, vol. ii. p. 
 
 106. Le Clerc's Diss. No. v.* 
 
 LECTURE CXLVI. 
 
 Sect. V. It is further objected. That an ark of 
 such dimensions as Noah's could not hold creatures 
 of ail species, and the stock of provision for a whole 
 year, which yet the history asserts. To this it is 
 answered, 
 
 1 . That we do not certainly know the exact length 
 of the cubit by which the dimensions of the ark are 
 computed ; but, 
 
 2. Many critics have shown that, on the common 
 computation of the cubit, the ark being 150 yards 
 long, 251 broad, and 15 high, was at least about as 
 large as one of our first rate men of war ; nay, some 
 say, as large as live of them ; and they have endea- 
 voured to prove, if it were so, tiiat it might contain 
 both the animals and their provision. The contro- 
 versy is too large and nice to be represented here ; 
 but may be seen in a good abstract in 
 
 Wells's Geoy. O. Test. vol. i. p. 09. Saur. Diss. 
 vol. i. p. 86. Univ. Hist. vol. i. p. 103. Calm. 
 
 ♦In the fifty. sevpiitli volume of tlie Transactions of the Royal 
 Society, No. iv. is a paper by Edward Knig, Esq. entitled An Attem|>t 
 to account for the Universal Deluge. 
 
 2 D 2 
 
 Diet. vol. i. p. 190, &c. Hallet on Heb. xi. 
 
 7. Wilkin's Real Char, part ii. c. v. ^ 6, 7. 
 
 p. 162. Stilling. Orig. Sac. lib. iii. c. iv. §7. 
 
 p. 551. Cliamb. Diet, under ARK. Har. on 
 
 Man, vol. ii. p. 106. 
 Sect. VI. Seeing the rainbow appears a pheno- 
 menon necessarily resulting from the nature of 
 light, and the form and situation of drops of falling 
 rain, it is represented as an absurdity, that Moses 
 speaks of it as created after the flood, and as the 
 sign of a covenant then made. 
 
 To this Dr. Burnet answers, by supposing that 
 no rain fell before the flood ; Mr. Whiston, by say- 
 ing there were no such heavy showers as are requi- 
 site to the producing this phenomenon ; but it seems 
 more reasonable to believe, that God took a pheno- 
 menon before appearing, and appropriated it to a 
 particular use, directing that it should be con- 
 sidered as his bow ; and that when men saw it, they 
 should recollect and rejoice in the assurance which 
 he had given them, that the flood should never be 
 repeated ; and accordingly, the original of Gen. ix. 
 14. may he rendered " And when I bring a cloud 
 over the earth, and the bow is seen in the cloud, I 
 will also remember my covenant." 
 
 Nichols's Conf. vol. i. p. 79, &c. 8vo ed. Burn. 
 
 Theory, lib. ii. c. v. p. 319. Whist. Theory, 
 
 lib. iii. e. iii. p. 258 ; ib. lib. iv. c. iii. p. 371. 
 
 Saur. Diss. lib. i. p. 126. Waterl. Scrip- 
 
 vind. part i. p. 36. Martin's Gram. p. 214. 
 
 edit. 2. 
 
 Sect. VII. It is further objected. That as the 
 Mosaic History supposes all mankind descended 
 from Noah, it will be impossible to account for the 
 original of the blacks, admitting Noah and his w ife 
 to have been tvhite. 
 
 Mr. Whiston answers this, by supposing that 
 Ham was turned black upon his father's curse, as, 
 according to him, Cain had before been ; but if 
 Gen. vi. 2. is to be understood (as it probably is) of 
 the descendants of Seth and the daughters of Cain, 
 that supposition is directly contrary to Moses's ac- 
 count : — at best it is a very precarious conjecture ; 
 and it seems more probable that the heat of the 
 climate should have produced that change, or 
 strength of imagination in some pregnant woman, 
 which might as well blacken the whole skin of a 
 child, for any thing we can perceive, as stain some 
 particular part of its body, in the manner which it 
 is plain in fact it often does. 
 
 Snefgr. Guinea, p. 51. Whist, ay. Collins. 
 
 Medley's Trans, of Kolb. Hist, of Hotten. p. 
 
 .55. Nich. Conf. vol. i. p, 137. ed. 12mo. p. 
 
 79, &c. Univ. Hist. vol. i. p. 47. fol. ; <)9. 
 
 8vo. Hartley on Man, vol. ii. p. 109. f 
 
 Browne's Vulg. Err. book 6. e. 10, 1 1. 
 
 + Lord Kaims, in his preliminary discourse to his Sketches of tho 
 History of Man, has contended for tnc original diversity of mankind. 
 
404 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Sect. VIII. The peoplinj; of America, and 
 several islands, in which mischievous terrestrial 
 animals arc found, thouffh many of the more useful 
 were entirely wantin<; when they were first dis- 
 covered l>y the Europeans, is ur^cd as a strons;' 
 argument against the univcrsalitif of the Deluf/e,mv\ 
 therefore the credibility of the Mosaic History. 
 
 The supposition of a north-east passage for men 
 might possibly be allowed ; but how those wild 
 creatures should be brought thither, wliich men 
 could not transport, and which cannot subsist in a 
 cold country, must remain a difficulty which we 
 cannot undertake to solve, if the universality of the 
 Deluge he allowed ; for that there should have been 
 so vast a tract of land in or near the Torrid Zone, 
 as must have been necessary for the joining Africa 
 to America, and that it is now sunk in the sea, is a 
 mere hypothesis, which has not the least foundation 
 in history ; but it may deserve inquiry, how far it is 
 an apparent fact that voracious animals, not am- 
 phibious, and living only in hot countries, arc to be 
 found in America. It is certain that some, to whose 
 constitution a hot climate is most suited, will live 
 in a colder, and sometimes propagate there ; and 
 that there are great degrees of heat in the summer 
 months to a great height of northern latitude ; 
 which, when we consider the velocity with whicli 
 these creatures run, may account for their travelling 
 to some places where there might be a passage by 
 water, or perhaps a passage by land, though since 
 fallen into the sea, the straits of which are well 
 known to be very narrow, where North America 
 comes nearest to Tartary. 
 
 Witsii 3Iisc. Sac. vol. ii. Ex. 13. § 26 ; Ex. 14. 
 
 § 45. Nich. Conf. vol. i. p. 133 ; ed. 12mo. 
 
 p. 87. W/iisi. Theory, p. 409. Uiiiv. Hist. 
 
 p. 104. vol. i. fol. ; vol. xx. p. 137, &c. 8vo. 
 
 Still. Oriff. Sac. lib. iii. c. iv. ^4. p. 541. 
 
 Har. on Man, vol. ii. p. 110.* 
 
 Sect. IX. The confusion of languayes at the 
 tower of Babel is represented by some as unneces- 
 sary, seeing a diversity of tongues mugt naturally 
 have arisen in process of time ; but it may be 
 answered, 
 
 1 . That so vast a diversity as there is in the names 
 of the most common things, can hardly be accounted 
 
 Id opposition to this system, tlie Rev. Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith, an 
 American Rentleman, has pubhshed An Essay on the Causes of the 
 Variety of Complexion and rig^ure in the Human Species, in which he 
 endeavours to show, that all the varit-ties observable in men, may satis, 
 fectorily be accounted for, by attending to nature and her operations, 
 and the etlucts produced in them by diversity of climate, l>y savage 
 and social life, by diet, exercise, and maimers of livin;^. Further light 
 will probably hereafter be thrown on this curious subject by Mr. Mars- 
 den, who, we understand, is makin;; it the matter of peculiar inquiry. 
 
 ♦ Whence and in what maiuier America was orif^inally peopled, has 
 been the object of much discussion. A comprehensive view of the sub- 
 ject may be seen in the first volume of Dr. Robertson's History of 
 America. The Historical and Geographical Inquiries of M. Schcrer 
 roncerniui^ the New World, do not appear to be liif^hly satisfactory. 
 Recent navigationsaiid discoveries have added further confirmation to 
 the opinion, that America was peopled, at least in part, from the north- 
 eastern extremities of Asia, aiiu the north-west of Europe. 
 
 for in a natural way, there not being the least trace 
 of any one common original language. 
 
 2. If it might in time naturally have happened, it 
 cannot thence be inferred that a miracle, whereby 
 it should iiistnutant'ouslif have been brought about 
 at first, was therefore unworthy of God, and conse- 
 quently incredible. 
 
 Others have replied. That all that passed at the 
 building at Babel, referred to in this objection, was 
 only a division of counsels and sentiments, or some 
 discord in affection, represented by dividing their 
 speech, whereas they were l)efore unanimous ; or at 
 most, some disorder miraculously produced in their 
 organs of speech, in consequence of which, their 
 language would be unintelligible to each other: 
 both which opinions the learned Vitringa has illus- 
 trated at large, though there does not seem any 
 great necessity for having recourse to them. 
 
 Still. Oriff. Sac. lib. iii. c. v. § 2-^. S/inckf. 
 Connec. vol. i. p. 124. Rev. exam, with Cand. 
 vol. ii. p. 105. Vilrin. Obs. lib. i. Diss. i. c. 
 ix. Hartley, ib. p. 111. Ward's Diss. No. 
 ii. Le Clerc's Diss. No. vi. Rep. of Let. 
 vol. iii. p. 1 19. 
 Sect. X. Others have objected the impossibility 
 of raising such an empire as the Assyrian is said to 
 have been, within 150 years after Noah. 
 
 To this Sir Isaac Newton answers, by fixing the 
 date of the Assyrian empire 1300 years later ; and 
 Dr. Winder has taken great pains to prove that the 
 account we have of the series of the ancient Assy- 
 rian monarchs is very precarious. Sir Isaac's argu- 
 ments are largely considered by Dr. Shuckford ; 
 who, by the way, supposes Noah to have been the 
 Fold of the Chinese, in which Mr. Whiston also 
 agrees with him. Others make the distance between 
 Noah and Nimrod to have been much greater than 
 our copies of the Bible represent it. It is, perhaps, 
 on the whole, most reasonable to conclude, that 
 though the Assyrian empire was very ancient, yet 
 the extraordinary accounts which Herodotus and 
 Ctesias give us of the greatness of it under Ninus 
 and Semiramis are fictitious, as many things related 
 by those authors undoubtedly are. 
 
 Newt. Chron. c. iii. Whist. Rem. on Newt. 
 Shuclif. Conf. vol. ii. Pref. p. 23. Still. 
 Oriy. Sac. lib. iii. c. iv. § 9. Cumb. Oriff. 
 Gent. Wind. Hist. Knowl. vol. ii. p. G6. 
 Whist. Theory, p. 137. Jacks. Chron. 
 Waterl. Scrip, vind. part. ii. p. 40.t 
 
 Sect. XI. It is urged. That such a number of 
 inhabitants, as are said to have dwelt in the land 
 of Canaan, could not possibly have been supported 
 there, viz. a million and a half of fighting men, (2 
 Sain. xxiv. 19. 1 Chron. xxi. 5.) nor such a stock 
 
 + The accounts of Herodotus, though he was probably much mis- 
 taken, are by no means so absurd and extravagant as those of Ctesias. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 405 
 
 of cattle be furnished out there, as are said to have 
 been sacrificed, especially by Solomon at the dedica- 
 tion of the temple {viz. an hundred and twenty thou- 
 sand sheep, and twenty-two thousand oxen, I Kings 
 viii. 63). To this it may be answered. That, if there 
 be no mistake in the numbers, it is to be ascribed 
 to the extraordinary fruitfulness of the soil ; to 
 which it may be added, that as some neighbouring 
 princes, who had been subdued by David, paid 
 their tribute in cattle, they might furnish out the 
 extraordinary sacrifice referred to. See 2 Kings 
 iii. 4. 
 
 Maund. Trav. p. 63. Del. Life of Dav. in 
 Loc. Univ. Hist. vol. ii. p. 386. 
 Sect. XII. It is urged as an impossibility, That 
 David, notwithstanding all his conquests, should 
 be able to amass those vast treasures mentioned in 
 1 Chron. xxix. 4, 7. which are computed by Le 
 Clerc at eiyht hundred millions sterling : a sum, 
 which is thought to exceed all the gold of all the 
 princes upon earth put together. To this it is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That the value of yold not being then so great 
 with respect to silver as it now is, their wealth is 
 not to be estimated merely by the quantity of gold 
 which they had ; and, on this principle, Mr. Whiston 
 reduces the gold to less than one-tenth of the com- 
 mon computation, supposing its value to silver as 
 their specific gravities, i. e. 19 : 11, whereas the 
 former makes it 16 : 1. 
 
 2. There is reason to believe that a great quantity 
 of the gold then used has long ago been destroyed 
 and lost ; yet it must be owned that more gold has 
 probably been dug out of the mines in America in 
 one year, than can wear out in many ages ; but it 
 is not unlikely that much may have been buried, 
 and so have perished. 
 
 3. That there is a great deal of uncertainty in the 
 principles on which the worth of those talents is 
 computed ; as appears from the different accounts 
 which learned men give of it ; and possibly the 
 word talent may scmetiuies be put for wedge. 
 
 4. That, 'AS numeral letters were used in the oldest 
 copies of the Hebrew Bible, it is not to be wondered 
 if transcribers might sometimes mistake them ; and 
 it is to be remembered, that this thought may also be 
 applied to some certain contradictions, where num- 
 bers are in question. 
 
 As to that part of the objection which relates to 
 the impossibility of expending those treasures upon 
 the building described, we are to observe, That 
 none can tell the curiosity of the carved work, the 
 height of wages which artists would demand of 
 so rich a prince as Solomon for so celebrated a 
 building, nor the number of gems which might be 
 used in some of the ornaments, either of vestments 
 or other furniture. 1 Chron. xxix. 2, 8. 2 Chron. 
 iii. 6. See Delany's Life of David. 
 
 Doddr. Fam. Exp. vol. ii. § 105. p. 403. Le 
 Clerc Eccl. Hist. Prol. p. 39. Whist. Desc. 
 of Temp. c. xiii. Horn. Iliad, 1. xxiii. ver. 
 730. Chand. Life of David. 
 
 Sect. XIII. As to the objections that are brought 
 against some accounts of miracles, v. g. that of Ba- 
 laam's ass speaking, the exploits of Samson, &c. 
 it is to be remembered in general, that we are very 
 imperfect judges what it is fit for God to do ; and 
 various things said by good commentators on these 
 heads are well worthy of being considered. Sam- 
 son's foxes, of which there might be many in that 
 eountiy, might be caught by others, or brought to 
 him by miracle ; not to say that a little alteration in 
 the points of the word D'Syw will justify our trans- 
 lating it sheaves, instead of foxes. 
 
 Mem. of Lit. vol. i. p. 43. Patr. on Loc. 
 Jort. Diss. p. 186. Browne's Rel. Med. p. 17. 
 
 LECTURE CXLVII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXX. 
 To inquire into and vindicate several passages 
 of the Old Testament, which are charged by the 
 enemies of revelation as immoralities. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 Sect. I. The command of God to Abraham to 
 sacrifice his own son, is said to have been no other 
 than a command to commit murder in its most 
 horrid form and circumstances. Dr. Warburton 
 has taken a singular method of removing this diffi- 
 culty, by maintaining that the command was merely 
 symbolical, or an information by action, instead of 
 words, of the great sacrifice for the redemption of 
 mankind, given at the earnest request of Abraham, 
 who longed impatiently to see Christ's day. John 
 viii. 36, Compare Heb. xi. 19. 
 
 Warb. Div. Leg. vol. ii. p. 589; ed. 1. part ii. 
 p. 374. 
 
 On the common interpretation it may be replied. 
 That God, as the great Lord of life, may, whenever 
 he pleases, command one creature to be the instru- 
 ment of death to another, though it must be owned, 
 that where such circumstances as these attended 
 the trial, there would have been great reason for 
 Abraham to have suspected this pretended revela- 
 tion to have been a delusion, had he not bc(!n before 
 fully and certainly acquainted with the method of 
 (Joil's converse with him, to such a degree as to 
 exclude all possibility of mistake. Vid. Prop. 95. 
 Schol. 2. 
 
 Chubb's Prev. Ques. Till. Worhs, vol. ii. Ser. 
 ii. p. 12. Rev. exam, with Cand. vol. ii. Diss. 
 vii. viii. Tiaijlr's Diet. vol. i. p. 95. Hal- 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 let's Itnm. of Mor. Phil. p. 13. Le/iiiid at/. 
 Mart/, vol. i. c. v. p. 155. Chantl. a;/. Monj. 
 part i. § 7. Grove's Works, vol. ii. § (i. 
 
 Sf.ct. II. The Israelites borrowiiii; by tlic divine 
 command vessels of the Ejiyptians, upon their re- 
 treat from Ei^ypt, which tliey never intended to 
 restore, is objected as an evident aet of injustice. 
 To tliis it has been replied, 
 
 1. That the word Ssr which we render borrow, 
 may be rendered demand, and so their vessels might 
 be required as an equivalent for the labours they 
 had so many years given to the Egyptians ; — or, 
 
 2. Had they intended only at first to borrow them, 
 the pursuit of the Egyptians afterwards, with an 
 intent to destroy them, would have given them a 
 right to have plundered their country as well as 
 their dead bodies, and therefore much more evi- 
 dently to retain those goods of theirs already in 
 their hands. 
 
 Burn, at B. Lect. vol. ii. p. 190. Till. Worhs, 
 vol. ii. p. 24. Phceni.T, vol. ii. p. 420. Hoph. 
 Works, p. 195. Jcnii. Jew. Ant. vol. ii. p. 
 10. Waterl. Serip. Vind. part ii. p. 9. 
 S/nickf. Con. vol. ii. p. 440. Exod. iii. 21, 
 22 ; xi. 2, 3 ; xii. 36. Patr. in Loc. 
 
 Sect. III. The dreadful execution to be done on 
 the Canaanites by the divine command, is urged as 
 an aet of the greatest cruelty and injustice. Some 
 have endeavoured to extenuate this, by arguing 
 from Deut. xx. 10. compared with Josh. xi. 19, 20. 
 that conditions of peace were to be offered them ; 
 but waving that, in consideration of Deut. vii. 1, 2, 
 6, 16. and many other parallel texts, (compare Deut. 
 XX. 15, 16. Josh. ix. 6, 7, 24.) it may with greater 
 certainty be replied, 
 
 1. That God, as their offended Creator, had a 
 right to their forfeited lives, and therefore might as 
 well destroy them and their posterity by the sword 
 of the Israelites, as by famine, pestilence, fire, and 
 brimstone, rained from heaven, or any other cala- 
 mity appearing to come more immediately from 
 himself. 
 
 2. The wickedness of this people, especially as 
 aggravated by the destruction of Sodom, was such 
 as made the execution done upon them a useful 
 lesson to neighbouring nations. Compare Gen. xv. 
 16. Lev. xviii. 20—28. Jude 4—7. Wisd. xii. 
 3—7. 
 
 3. That the miracles wrought in favour of the 
 Israelites, not only at their coming out of Egypt, 
 but their entrance on Canaan, proved that they 
 were indeed commissioned as God's executioners, 
 and consequently that their conduct was not to be 
 a model for conquerors in ordinary cases. 
 
 4. That there was a peculiar propriety in destroy- 
 ing those sinners by the sword of Israel, as that 
 would tend to impress the Israelites more strongly 
 
 with an abhorrence of the idolatry and other vices 
 of those nations, and consequently subserve that 
 design of keeping them a distinct people adhering 
 to the worship of the true God, which was so gra- 
 cious to mankind in general, as well as to them in 
 particular. After all, had any among the Canaan- 
 ites surrendered themselves at discretion to the 
 God of Israel, a new case would liave arisen not 
 expressly provided for in the law, in which it is 
 probable God, upon being consulted by Urim and 
 Thummim, would have spared the lives of such 
 penitents, and either have incorporated them with 
 the Israelites by circumcision, or have ordered them 
 a settlement in some neighbouring country, as the 
 family of Rahab seems to have had. 
 
 Shuekf. Conn. vol. iii. p. 432. Lei. ag. Morg. 
 
 vol. i. p. 136. Ditto ag. Tind. vol. i. p. 429. 
 
 Lowm. Heb. Grov. p. 220. Sgkes' Conn. c. 
 
 13. p. 330. 
 
 Sect. IV. The punishing children for the sins of 
 tlieir parents has been charged as injustice. It is 
 replied, 
 
 1. That generally speaking, this was forbidden 
 to the Israelites, (Deut. xxiv. 16. Ezek. xviii. 20.) 
 excepting the singular instance mentioned in Deut. 
 xiii. 12, &e. 
 
 2. That the general threatening in the second 
 commandment may only amount to a declaration, 
 that idolatry should be punished with judgments 
 which should affect succeeding generations, as cap- 
 tivity and war would certainly do. 
 
 3. That in particular instances, such as Josh. vii. 
 24, 25. Numb. xvi. 27 — 33. and the destruction of 
 the houses of the wicked kings l)y a divine sentence, 
 the terrible executions customary in the East abated 
 something of the horror of it ; and where innocent 
 children were concerned, God, as the Lord of all, 
 might make them recompcnce in a future state : 
 and when we consider him under this character, 
 and remember that we are to judge of his conduct 
 towards any creatures, not by what befalls them in 
 this life, any more than by what befalls them in 
 any particular day or place of their abode, the 
 greatest part of the objection will vanish ; which 
 seems to be grounded on this obvious mistake, that 
 it is not righteous in God to do what it would be 
 unjust for man to do in the like circumstances, for- 
 getting the infinite difference of the relation. 
 
 4. It is so plain in fact, that children often suffer 
 in their constitutions, and sometimes lose their lives 
 even in their infancy, by means of the sins of 
 parents committed before such children were born, 
 that nothing can vindicate the apparent conduct of 
 Providence in such instances, but such principles 
 as will likewise vindicate the passages of Scripture 
 here under consideration. 
 
 Dr. Warburton has a peculiar notion on this 
 subject ; that while the Israelites were under an 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 407 
 
 equal Providence, and the state of future rewards 
 and punishments was little known, this was a kind 
 of additional sanction to their laws, which was 
 afterwards reversed when a future state came more 
 in view, in the declining days of their common- 
 wealth : but, perhaps, it might rather be intended 
 as an oblique insinuation of this state, since cer- 
 tainly, with relation to individuals, it was an un- 
 equal providence. Compare Matt, xxiii.29 — 3G. 
 Warh. Div. Ley. vol. ii. p. 452 ; part ii. p. 147. 
 Grove's Posth. Works, vol. iv. p. 198. 
 
 Sect. V. God's hardening the heart of Pharaoh, 
 in the circumstances in which he threatens to do it, 
 (Exod. vii. 3 — 5.) is further charged as inconsistent 
 with his holiness and justice. 
 
 Ahs. 1. By God's hardening the heart of any 
 person, we are to understand his exercising such 
 providential dispensations, as he knew in fact would 
 be perverted by that person as an occasion of more 
 obstinate sin, God at the same time not interposing 
 to prevent this effect (compare Exod. vii. 22 ; viii. 
 15, 32.) ; and thus prophets are said to harden mens' 
 hearts, by taking measures which, though in their 
 own nature adapted to subdue them, would in fact 
 (as God knew and revealed to them) be attended 
 with their greater hardness. — Isa. vi. 9, 10. 
 
 2. That the foreknowledge of such an event, sup- 
 posing as we do that it was not rendered necessanj, 
 would nevertheless leave a righteous God at liberty 
 to take such measures as the circumstances of the 
 case would otherwise admit ; for if we did not allow 
 this, it would be equally impossible to vindicate tlic 
 main course of God's conduct towards liis creatures, 
 especially the [universality of his providence, and 
 the certainty of his prescience. 
 
 3. If we should say with M. Saurin and others, 
 That this hardening the heart was the immediate 
 operation of God upon the mind, in consequence of 
 which the obstinacy of Pharaoh became unavoid- 
 able, and which was itself a punishment of former 
 sin, it must be allowed that it is not inconsistent 
 with justice to intlict such a punishment, which is 
 indeed no other than a terrible kind of lunacy; but 
 whether a man in that state could be said to be 
 punished for that hardness, remains a further ques- 
 tion. Compare Exod. ix. 12; x. 20, 27; xi. 10, 
 with vii. 22 ; viii. 15, 32. 
 
 Limb. Theol. 1. vi. c. ix. Fleetw. on Mir. p. 
 G4. Turret, hoc. vi. Quest. 4, 5, 7. § 14, 15. 
 Saur. Diss. vol. ii. p. 116. Sherl. on Proph. 
 p. 189. 
 
 Sect. VI. The law which appointed idolatry to 
 be punished with death, is objected to as an in- 
 vincible bar to all freedom of inquiry, and a foun- 
 dation for persecution, which has already been 
 proved to be contrary to the light of nature. Deut. 
 xiii. pass. Vid. Prop. 77. 
 
 Ans. 1. Though we readily allow that persecu- 
 tion is an evil in a state of nature, yet perhaps it 
 may be asserted, that as the Divine Being knows 
 wliat degree of evidence will attend any doctrine 
 of religion in any given circumstances of time, 
 place, and person, which we cannot judge of, He 
 may pass sentence upon idolaters and other profane 
 persons, where human laws cannot safely do it. 
 
 2. As God was the temporal King of Israel, and 
 even their kings were only to be considered as his 
 viceroys, idolatry was looked upon in the nature of 
 high treason; and therefore justly punishable as by 
 their statute laws. Jenn. Jew. Ant. yoX. i. p. 172. 
 
 3. It is also to be remembered, That God gave the 
 land of Canaan, with many temporal emoluments, 
 to the Israelites, as a reward of their obedience to 
 him ; it was therefore equitable that, in case of 
 disobedience to some of his most important laws, 
 they should be subject to some peculiar temporal 
 penalties, and even to death itself, if this act were 
 committed during their abode in that land. 
 
 4. Nevertheless, it is to be observed, that the 
 Israelites are never commissioned to make war upon 
 their neighbours, or exercise any violence towards 
 any of them, in order to compel them to worship 
 the God of Israel, nor to force them to it ever after 
 they were conquered (Deut. xx. 10.) ; nor are they 
 empowered thus forcibly to attempt to recover any 
 native Israelite who should revolt to idolatry, and 
 go to settle in a Gentile country. 
 
 5. As God had placed the Israelites under such 
 an extraordinary equal providence, that the pros- 
 perity of the country should depend upon their 
 adherence to the true God, in opposition to idols, 
 his commanding them to put to death the beginner 
 of a revolt, was a wise precaution ; and such a one 
 as, in these circumstances, even human prudence 
 might have suggested to subordinate governors, if 
 such governors had been permitted to make capital 
 laws. 
 
 6. When we consider how great a good it would 
 have been to the whole world that Israel should 
 have continued to maintain the knowledge and 
 worship of the true God, in opposition to all idolatry, 
 it will further appear, that a constitution deterring 
 them from idolatry would be nierciful to the world 
 in general, as well as their nation, in proportion to 
 the degree in which it was severe to any particular 
 ofl'enders. 
 
 * Burnet's Pref. to Lact. p. 18. Locke on Tol. 
 
 * This sulijett tame under considi'ration in the controversy tli.it was 
 carried on twtwfen Dr. I.owlli and ISisho|i VVarburton, and their 
 rcspetlive 5U|i|)orlcr». It will be snllicieiil to refer to the principal 
 I)iecc» that appeared on the occasion. Tlie.se were, the Appendix to the 
 fonrth edition of the tilth volume of Ihe Uivine Legation : A Letter to 
 the Ki;<ht Keverend Author of the Divine Legation demonstrated, in 
 Answer to the Appendix to the Kifth Volume of that Work ; with an 
 Appendix, contaiiiin^^ a former Literary Otrresiiondence, by a late 
 I'rofessor in the IJiiiver-ity of Oxford (Dr. Lowtli) ; Remarks on Dr. 
 Lowth's Letter to the Bishop of fjloucester ; with the Bishop's Appen- 
 dix, and the Second Kpistolary Correspondence between his Lordship 
 
406 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 /,('/. i. p. al ; Works, vol. ii. p. 247. Dodtl. 
 Scnii. on Pvrs. p. 'i!). Lei. at/. Morg. vol. ii. 
 p. 129. Jenk. on Chris, vol. i. p. Si). 
 
 LECTURE CXLVIII. 
 
 Sect. VII. The execution of the descendants of 
 Saul, (2 Sam. xxi. 2.) is further ur<;ed as an instance 
 of human sacrifice, entirely inconsistent with the 
 light of nature. 
 
 To this we answer, not hy saying that the persons 
 here condemned to death might he personally con- 
 cerned in the cruelties before exercised on the 
 Gibeonites, which some of them, on account of their 
 infant age, must have been entirely incapable of ; 
 neither do we ascribe it to the supposed injustice of 
 keeping possession of the Giheonitish cities, on 
 which Dr. Delany lays so much stress on the slender 
 evidence of 1 Sam. xxii. 7. compare 1 Sam. viii. 14. 
 and Josh, xviii. 25. neither do we say that it was 
 merely an act of cruelty in the Gibeonites, and 
 unacceptable to God, since it is said " he was on 
 this entreated for the land." — It must rather be 
 answered, 
 
 1 . By saying, on the principles laid down in § 4. 
 (to which indeed this instance does properly belong,) 
 that we cannot reasonably aflfirm universally. That 
 it is unjust in God, or unbecoming any of his per- 
 fections, to inflict temporal calamities, or even death 
 itself, on one person, for the crimes of another, to 
 whom the person suffering was nearly related ; nor 
 can the death of those descendants of Saul be called 
 a human sacrifice, on any other principle than that 
 on which the execution of malefactors with their 
 families in any instance may be so called. 
 
 2. That the circumstances of the case here were 
 such, as might well justify some extraordinary 
 severity, and make it on the whole a blessing to the 
 public ; as it would be a useful lesson to all suc- 
 ceeding princes, to take care how they violated any 
 of the laws of the theocracy, when they saw the 
 breach of one of those treaties made at the time of 
 their first settlement, so terribly avenged on the 
 house of their first king ; and it would probably be 
 a means of awakening the people to some sense of 
 religion, when they saw such a remarkable hand of 
 God interposing, in the death of those persons, to 
 remove the famine which had lain so long upon 
 them. 
 
 3. That sufficient provision was made by the ex- 
 press law of God, to prevent their bringing such 
 extraordinary instances as this into a precedent to 
 
 and the Dortor annexed ; and Reflections upon some of the Suhjects 
 in Dispute, between the Author of tlie Divine Legation of Moses, and 
 a late Professor in tlie University of Oxford. 
 
 direct their own conduct by in common cases. Vid. 
 § 4. (jr. 1. compare 2 Kings xiv. 5, (J. 
 
 Clar. in Loc. Grot, de Jure, 1. ii. c. xxi. ^ 14. 
 
 Chand. Life Dav. \*ol. ii. b. iv. c. 7. pras. 
 
 p. 378. 
 
 Sect. VIII. Some have thought that human 
 sacrifices in general were authorized by Lev. xxvii. 
 28,29. on which they suppose that Jephthah proceed- 
 ed in the sacrifice of his daughter. Concerning this 
 precept, (wliicli common sense would teach us 
 requires some limitation,) we observe, 
 
 1. It is evident that God expressly forbade the 
 Israelites to sacrifice their children to him : — Deut. 
 xii. 30, 31. Jer. vii. 31. compare Lev. xviii. 21 ; 
 XX. 2. Psal. evi. 37, 38. Ezek. xvi. 20, 21. 
 
 2. There is no reason to believe that he allowed 
 even of the sacrifice of slaves; (1.) Because no 
 peculiar rites are prescribed for that dreadful sacri- 
 fice, though a distinction is made in the burnt- 
 offerings of herds, flocks, and birds. Lev. i. pass. 
 (2.) Because none of the Canaanites (accursed as 
 they were) are directed to be reserved for the altar, 
 not even kings taken alive, though they might have 
 seemed the noblest sacrifice. (3.) Because the 
 sacrifice of a man is proverbially used to express 
 what is as abominable to God as that of a dog or 
 swine. Isa. Ixvi. 3. (4.) Because a Jewish priest 
 would have been rendered unclean, and incapable 
 of attending the sanctuary, by the touch of a dead 
 body, though it had fallen down in the temple by 
 chance, — much less can we imagine he would have 
 been allowed to cut it to pieces and lay it on the altar. 
 
 3. Nothing that was devoted could be sacrificed 
 at all ; so that this text cannot in any clause of it 
 refer to sacrifice. 1 Sam. xv. 3. 15 — 22. 
 
 4. This, therefore, refers to a vow to destroy the 
 inhabitants of any place which they made war 
 against, and was intended to make them cautious 
 in laying themselves under such obligations. 
 Compare Numb. xxi. 1 — 3. Deut. xxv. 17 — 19. 
 Josh. vi. 17, 18 ; viii. 24 — 26. See also Judg. xxi. 
 6. 1 Sam. xiv. 24, 39. 
 
 5. The words therefore should be rendered, " No 
 devoted thing which a man shall have devoted to 
 the Lord ;" and the field of his possession may be 
 equivalent to the land of it, and may include any 
 such place as Jericho, which, by the way, might be 
 a lasting and very useful memorial, and (as it were) 
 a sepulchral monument of the pride and strength 
 of Canaan. — Comp. 1 Chr. i. 46. Psal. Ixxviii. 12. 
 Neh. xiii. 10. in all which places, field is put for 
 land or country. 
 
 6. On this interpretation, it would by a strong 
 consequence imply, that none had a power of par- 
 doning those that were condemned to death by 
 God's law ; which may be more expressly inti- 
 mated ver. 29. compare Exod. xxii. 20. Deut. xxi. 
 12, 23 ; xiii. 12—17. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 409 
 
 7. The law forbidding murder in general, was 
 equivalent to a prohibition devoting any human 
 creature to death, unless in some extraordinary 
 cases by public authority. As for the invidious 
 tarn which is given to the law of redeeming the 
 first-born, as if it implied they must otherwise have 
 been sacrificed, since, says Morgan, there is no 
 reason to believe they would have been redeemed 
 from a benefit, — it may be questioned whether the 
 eldest sons of families would have chosen the life 
 of Levites ; but waving this, the insinuation may 
 be sufficiently answered, by observing, that God 
 having asserted a peculiar right to the first-horn, 
 and yet, by the choice of the Levites, having pre- 
 cluded other families from serving at his altar ; had 
 not such a pecuniary acknowledgment been made, 
 be might probably have punished the neglect of the 
 parents, by taking away their children in their 
 Infancy. Exod. xiii. 2, 13. Compare Exod. iv. 
 24—26. 
 
 Morg. Mor. Phil. vol. i. p. 128. Immor. of 
 Mar. Phil. p. 11. Lei. ag. Tind. vol. ii. p. 
 4fi8. Fam. Exp. on Luke ii. 23. Note b. 
 Seld. dc Jure, lib. iv. c. vi. vii. § 9 — 11. 
 Hal. on Heb. xi. 32. p. 46. Fcstiis et Paul, 
 in Verb, sacer et sacrat. leg. Finlay ap. 
 Mon. Rev. vol. xliv. p. 463. Jenn.Jew. Ant. 
 vol. i. p. 68. 
 
 What Dr. Sykes has advanced in favour of his 
 interpretation, which supposes the meaning of Lev. 
 xxvii. 28, 29. to be, " Whatever shall be consecrated 
 to the service of God, shall die in its devoted state," 
 has not altered my judgment of this text ; because 
 it seems that the am always implies the death of 
 any living creature, whether man or beast, to which 
 it is applied ; and consequently though ric« nio 
 signifies dying in the general, yet in this connexion 
 it must signify (as it is generally allowed to do) 
 being put to death ; nor does it any where signify 
 dying in the state in which a person is, but always 
 implies death by a divine sentence, if not by a 
 violent stroke. Sijhes's Connec. c. xiii. j^ras. p. 310. 
 
 Sect. IX. The putting a lying spirit into the 
 mouth of Ahab'.s prophets, is a circumstance often 
 mentioned upon this occasion, 1 Kings xxii. 19. 
 but the plain answer to this is, That Micaiali's 
 speech was merely a parable ; and the intent of it, 
 according to the eastern ma . ner, was only to declare 
 that God had permitted the prophets of Baal to 
 impose upon Ahab by a falsehood. 
 
 Patrick in Loc. 
 
 Sect. X. It is said that the whole book of .lob 
 turns upon a tvrong moral, and represents God as 
 overbearing .lob by superior power, rather than 
 convincing him by rational arguments.— Vid. Job 
 xxxviii — xli. 
 
 Ans. 1. In these chapters not merely the power, 
 
 but also the wisdom, of God is insisted upon, as 
 illustrated in the works of creation and providence ; 
 and nothing could have been more proper to con- 
 vince Job how unfit it was for him to censure any 
 of the Divine proceedings, as in the transport of 
 his grief he had sometimes done. 
 
 2. That the awful display here made of the 
 Divine Power and Sovereign Majesty, was by no 
 means improper ; because it would tend to convince 
 Job of his fault, in treating this tremendous Being 
 with so little reverence in some of his late dis- 
 courses ; and also as it would, by consequence, 
 prove the equity of God's administration, since it 
 could be no profit to him that he should oppress ; 
 and would give Job such a sense of the malignity 
 of every sin, even those imperfections which were 
 consistent with the general integrity and piety of 
 his own temper, as might teach him to accept all 
 his severest afflictions as no more than what he had 
 justly deserved ; and accordingly we find it had 
 this effect on the mind of that good man. Job xl. 
 3— .5 ; xiii. 1—6. 
 
 If Dr. Warburton's ingenious hypothesis con- 
 cerning the book of Job be admitted, that it was 
 written by Ezra, upon the plan of a true ancient 
 story, with some particular view to the state of the 
 Jews in his time, the difficulty concerning the 
 morality of it, and the foundation of this solution, 
 will continue much the same. 
 
 Warb. div. Leg. vol. ii. p. 483. Grey's Let. to 
 Warb. p. 121.* 
 
 Sect. XI. That inveteracy of spirit which is 
 sometimes expressed in the Psalms, is excepted 
 against, as inconsistent with humanity, as well as 
 with the spirit of the gospel. Compare Psal. Ixix. 
 22, &c. ; cix. 6, &c. ; cxxxvii. 8, 9. To this it is 
 answered, 
 
 1. As God was in a peculiar manner the tem- 
 poral Prince of Israel, these passages may be con- 
 
 * Since tliose references were made, the book of Job lias been the 
 object of particular iliscnssion. Mr. Peters, in his Critical Dissertation 
 on tliis book, has opposed the system of VVarbnrlon, and contended 
 for tlie anti'inity of llie performance. He lias also endi'av^iured to 
 prove that the famous jiassa^e, chap. xix. ver. 25—27. refers to a future 
 state. Mr. Chappelnw, in liis Commentary on .lob, niaiiifairis (h.it an 
 Arabic poem was written by .lob himself, and that it was modelled by 
 a Hebrew at a later period. This period Mr. Chappelow does not take 
 upon him to ascertain T)r. Durell is clearly ^if opinion that the author 
 of the book w.as a .lew, and that lie lived after the time of Mo«es, and 
 before tlie return of the Jews from their ca|itivity.— See the Doctor's 
 Critical Remarks on the books of Job, Psiilms, Ecclesiastes, and Can- 
 ticles. Mr. Heath, in his Essay towards a new English Version of the 
 Itook of .lob, sujiports the hypothesis of its having been written .at, or 
 ifler, the ca|itivity. 4 very dilTerent system is adopted by Bishop 
 I.owtlv The liishop, in his three beautiful lectures on the ar;;ument, 
 desiirn, manners, conceptions, and style of Job, esteems it to be the 
 most probable opinion, that either Job himself, or some one con- 
 temporary with him, was the author of the poem; and that it is the 
 oldest of all the sacred wiitin^s. Michaelis, in his fuie epiini trnn lo 
 I.owth's Thirty. second Lecture, stroni;ly opposes the notion of Heath, 
 and offers some reasons to show that tlie book mijfht be composed by 
 M'lses. when he was about forty years of a^e, I.owth, de sacra Puesi 
 Ifebrieorum, p. 42.). etlUio ler'tia. Johaunis Davidis Michaelis, in 
 Koberti Lowtli PrnlecliimCH—Nottr el Kpimetra, p I8.i. Coincident 
 in sentiment with Michaelis is Mr. Thomas Scott, who, in his Book of 
 Job, in Enslish Verse, translated from the Hebrew, is rather of opinion 
 (tliou^rh he ex|)resses himself doubtfully il[iou the subjecl) that the 
 jioeni is the work of Moses, and that it was his first production, when 
 he resided in the land of Midian, after he had fled from the court of 
 E-ypl. 
 
410 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 sidoifd in the s.nino view as petitions oflered to a 
 prince by an oppressed suhjeet, demanding^ sentcncrc 
 af!:ainst sueli eriiuinals as were the proper objcets 
 of his public justice ; and the natural manner in 
 which the sense of injury and hope of redress are 
 expressed, is no inconsiderable internal argument 
 of the credibility of Scripture, — as Dr. Jackson, 
 according to his usual penetration, has well ob- 
 served. 
 
 2. That in many of these places, the genius of 
 the Hebrew language will allow us to suppose that 
 the imperative is put for the futtire ; so that they 
 might be understood as prophetic denunciations 
 rather than imprecations. Compare Acts i. 18 — 20. 
 
 3. That if we suppose the prophets to liave re- 
 ceived a revelation from God, that such and such 
 calamities should be inflicted on the obstinate ene- 
 mies of God and his people, it may be defended as 
 a temper of mind no way inconsistent with virtue, 
 thus to pray for their destruction, and thereby to 
 express an acquiescence in the justice and wisdom 
 of the divine proceedings ; and accordingly, celes- 
 tial spirits are represented by that benevolent 
 apostle John, as addressing such prayers to God. 
 Rev. vi. 9 — 1 1 ; xvi. 5 — 7 ; xviii. 4 — 7. Or if none 
 of these, which have all their weight, should be 
 admitted as applicable to every case, it might be 
 said, 
 
 4. That we have nowhere asserted the degree of 
 inspiration to be such in all the poetical composures 
 of Scripture, as to leave no room for small irregular 
 workings of human passions in the hearts of those 
 good men by whom the Scriptures were written. 
 Jer. XX. 14 — 18. 
 
 Jenk. Chris, vol. ii. c. xix. p. 335. Lowth on 
 Insp. p. 216. Jacks. Cred. lib. i. part ii. § 1. 
 c. iii. p. 36. ap. Op. vol. i. p. 26. Five Let. 
 on Insp. p. 23, &c. 
 Sect. XII. It is said that in the whole book of 
 Esther there is no mention of God, though the 
 interposition of Providence there be so remarkable ; 
 which seems very little agreeable to the genius of 
 the rest of the Old Testament. 
 
 To this some would answer, by allowing it doubt- 
 ful whether this is to be included among the cano- 
 nical books; and, indeed, there is hardly anymore 
 dubious. Others conclude that the additional 
 chapters preserved in the Greek translation were 
 originally a part of the book, which, if they are, 
 there can be no room at all for the objection here 
 proposed ; but we choose rather to say, there is a 
 plain acknowledgment of divine providence sup- 
 posed in Esther's fastino, which no doubt was 
 attended with prayer to the God of Israel. The 
 custom of speaking, at the time and in the place 
 where this was written, might be dilferent from that 
 used at the time and place in which the other pen- 
 men of Scripture wrote ; and, on the whole, the 
 
 omission of the name of God, where there were so 
 many proper occasions to introduce it, would rather 
 be an argument against its being written by sugges- 
 tion, which there is no apparent reason to assert, 
 than against the truth of the history ; nevertheless, 
 it is proper here to observe, how great an argument 
 it is in favour of the credibility of all the other 
 books, that such a continued regard to God runs 
 through the whole of them ; and there is in this 
 respect so great a resemblance and harmony be- 
 tween all the writings of both Testaments, as is well 
 worthy of our admiration. 
 
 Jacks. Works, lib. i. c. v. vol. i. p. 19. Jenk. 
 
 Chris, vol. ii. c. iv. p. 90. Five Let. on Insp. 
 
 p. 164. Lowth's Insp. p. 200. Prid. Con. 
 
 vol. i. p. 251. Lee's Diss, on Esdras, p. 24. 
 
 LECTURE CXLIX. 
 
 Sect. XIII. It is objected, That the Song of 
 Solomon seems to be an amorous poem, and that 
 there are some passages in it which shock common 
 decency. To this we must answer, either by sup- 
 posing (as some have done) that it is no part of the 
 canon of Scripture, or otherwise, by interpreting it 
 in an allegorical sense, as referring to the Messiah 
 and his church (compare Psal. xlv. passim, with 
 Heb. i. 8, 9). If it be said, that on this interpreta- 
 tion there are some indecent figures in it, as tliere 
 are in Ezek. xvi. xxiii. and in many other places, 
 it is answered. That the simplicity of the eastern 
 nations made some of these phrases much less 
 shocking to them than the delicacy, or perhaps the 
 licentiousness, of these western parts make them to 
 modest people among us. 
 
 Patr. on Cant. Pref. pass. Whist. Appen. to 
 
 Ess. for rest. Can. of O. Test. Saur. Srrni. 
 
 vol. iii. p. 157. Carpzov. Def. c. iv. p. 195. 
 
 Oav. St. Evrem. vol. iv. p. 126. Month. 
 
 Rev. vol. V. p. 492. Jor tin's Rem. on Eccl. 
 
 Hist. vol. i. p. 236.* 
 Sect. XIV. Tindal has endeavoured to show tliat 
 there are many passages in the Old Testament 
 
 * In addition to tlie references here given, otlier writers nuiy be 
 ntctltioned who li;ivc made Solomotj's Soni^ the olyect of particular ex- 
 amination. Dr. Lowth has devoted two Lectures to the suliject, in Iiis 
 Prtelectiones rte sacra Poesi Hebricorum, No. xxx. xxxi. In the 
 first of tlicse lectures, the Doctor sliows tliat tlie Son;^ of Solomon is 
 not a ju.st drama ; and in ttie next, he considers tlie scojie and style of 
 the poem. Michaelis, in his notes upon Lowth, p. 154. hassome obser- 
 vations, calling in question the commonly received opinion that the 
 composition is a pastoral, descriptive of a marria;:c. However, that it 
 is a nuptial poem, is strongly maintained by tlie autltor of a perform- 
 ance, entitled The Song of Solomon, newly translated from theori;?iiial 
 Hebrew ; with a commentary and Anuotatir>ns. This work is supposed 
 tr) have been written, when young, by Dr. Percy, the present liisliopof 
 Dromore. The late Mr. liarnuM's Outlines of a new Commentary on 
 Solomon's Song, drawn hy the Help of Instructions from the Kasr, 
 constitutes anotiier elaborate and valuable Treatise on the Subject. 
 The reference above to the Monthly Review relates to a Dissertation 
 on the Song of Solomon, with the original Text divided according to 
 the Metre, and a poetical Version, publi.shcd in The author, 
 
 though his name is not mentioned, was the Itev. Mr. GitTord. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 411 
 
 which give us a mean and unworthy idea of God ; 
 but the particular passages themselves, and the 
 vindication of them, may be seen in the following 
 references ; by which it appears that some of these 
 objections are built upon our translation ; others of 
 them upon the want of due candour, which would 
 lead a reader of common understanding to expound 
 those expressions figuratively, and to allow for the 
 idiom of the age and country in which they were 
 written ; especially considering how plainly those 
 perfections of God are asserted in other passages 
 of this book, which evidently tend to give us the 
 sublimest ideas of him, and lay in an easy and cer- 
 tain remedy against whatever danger could be sup- 
 posed to arise from the passages excepted against. 
 Compare Prop. 125. 
 
 Tind. OH Chris, c. xiii. Fast. ag. Tind. p. 215. 
 
 Lei. ag. Tind. vol. ii. c. xi. Clarke's Posth. 
 
 Ser. vol. i. p. 160. Guardian, vol. ii. No. 88. 
 Sect. XV. As for the objections which Tindal 
 and Morgan have urged against the character of 
 some of the Old Testament saints, it is answered, 
 
 1. That some of those facts are expressly con- 
 demned by the historians themselves. 
 
 2. That others of them are barely mentioned, 
 without any intimation that they are to be com- 
 mended or imitated. 
 
 3. That God might judge it necessary that the 
 faults of the great founders and heroes of the Jewish 
 nation should be thus circumstantially recorded, 
 that the Jews might be humbled, who were so very 
 ready to grow vain and insolent, and despise all the 
 rest of mankind on account of their relation to 
 them : — for this reason also, among others, it may 
 be that MclcLizedek and Job, and some other 
 good men, not of the Jewish church, are mentioned 
 with so much honour. 
 
 4. That notwithstanding this, if the characters 
 of many, who were most faulty, be fairly examined, 
 they will be found, on the whole, to have been ex- 
 cellent men ; as may particularly be evinced in that 
 of David, whose blemishes were so remarkably 
 great. — See Delany's Life of that prince. 
 
 Chandler's Life of David, vol. i. book 2. c. 25 ; 
 and Recapit. vol. ii. p. 482, ad Jin. 
 6. That the mention of their imperfections and 
 miscarriages, in such a manner as they are mention- 
 ed, is so far from being any argument against those 
 books, that it is a very convincing proof of the inte- 
 grity of the persons who wrote them, and a glorious 
 internal proof of the truth of the Old Testament, 
 which must be transmitted with it to all succeeding 
 ages. 
 
 Sect. XVI. It is objected. That 1 Kings xv. 5. 
 seems to intimate that the character of David was 
 blameless, except in the business of Uriah ; whereas 
 his behaviour in the court of Achish, and on many 
 other occasions, was grossly criminal. It is answer- 
 
 ed, Not equally so as in the case of Uriah ; not to 
 say that there is not the same evidence for the in- 
 spiration of the History of Kings, as most of the 
 other books of Scripture ; nor to insist on the pos- 
 sibility of some intimation received from God, 
 which might have made it entirely lawful for David 
 to have fought against Israel under Achish. 
 
 Nearly akin to this is the objection that Jeph- 
 thah and Samson, though both men of bad moral 
 characters, are reckoned among believing worthies 
 in the eleventh of Hebrews. Some have replied to 
 this, by attempting to defend their characters ; but 
 perhaps it is sufficient to say, that Heb. xi. 39. only 
 relates to such a faith as might be found in those 
 who were not truly virtuous and religious ; which, 
 though it might entitle them to some degree of 
 praise for the heroic actions they performed by 
 means of it, could have no efficacy to secure their 
 future and everlasting happiness. Compare 1 Cor. 
 xiii. 2. Matt. vii. 22, 23. 
 
 Ab. Tayl. ag. Watts, p. 96. Owen on Heb. c. 
 
 xi. ad fin. Saur. Ser. vol. ix. p. 47. Jen. 
 
 Jew. Ant. vol. i. p. 56. Hallet on Heb. xi. 
 
 36. Chand. Life of Dav. vol. i. b. ii. c. 7. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXI, 
 To enumerate some of the chief contradictions 
 charged on the Scripture, and to give some general 
 solution of them. 
 
 PART 1. 
 
 The enumeration of the chief passages which 
 appear contradictory. 
 
 Besides the difference about the genealogies, pass- 
 over, and resurrection of Christ, the following pas- 
 sages are urged, in which the Old and New Testa- 
 ment disagree with each other ; or the Old disagrees 
 with itself. 
 
 1. The Old and New Testament disagree. 
 
 Matt, xxvii. 9. comp. with Zech. xi. 12, 13 
 
 Mark ii. 26 
 Luke iv. 25 
 Acts vii. 4 
 Acts vii. 14 
 Acts vii. 16 
 Gen. xxiii. 9 
 Joshua xxiv. 
 Acts vii. 43 
 Acts xiii. 20, 21 
 2 Sam. V. 4 
 1 Cor. X. 6 
 Heb. ix. 4 
 
 32 
 
 — 1 Sam. xxi. 1 
 
 — 1 Kings xviii. 1 
 
 — Gen xi. 26, 32 ; xii. 4 
 
 — Gen. xlvi. 27 
 
 — Gen. xxxiii. 18—20 
 
 — Gen. xlix. 29—32 
 
 — Gen. XXV. 9, 10 
 
 — Amos V. 27 
 
 — 1 Kings vi. 1 
 
 — Numb. XXV. 9 
 
 — 1 Kings viii. 9 
 
 In the Old Testament the following passages are 
 
 objected to as contradictory :— 
 Ezra ii. — Neh. vii. 6, Sec. 
 
 C Numb. XX. 23 — 29 ; 
 ~~ ( xxxiii. 30, 37, 38 
 Exod. vii. 19, 22 — Exod. vii. 22 
 
 Deut. X. 8 
 
41-2 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 iiin. viii. 13 ) 
 hr. xviii. 12 ) 
 
 Isa. vii. 4, 8. comp. with 
 '2 Snin. 
 1 Ch 
 
 1 Sam. xviii. 19 
 
 2 Sam. xxi. 8, 9 
 2 Chroii. XV. 19 
 2 Chron. xvi. 1 
 
 1 King;s xxii. 43 
 
 2 Sam. xxiv. 24 
 
 1 Kin^s vii. 26 
 
 2 Sain. .xxiv. 13 
 
 1 Kings ix. u/t. 
 
 2 King.s i. 17 
 1 Kings iv. 26 
 
 1 Chron. xviii. 4 
 
 2 Sam. X. 18 
 1 Chron. xxi. 5 
 
 1 Chron. xi. 11 
 
 2 Chron. xxxvi. 9 
 
 2 Kinsjf.s xvii, 1, 
 Psalm Ix. title 
 
 2 Chron. xxii. 2 — 
 
 1 Sam. XXV. 44 
 
 2 Sam. iii. 15 
 
 1 Kings XV. 16, 33 
 
 1 Kings xvi. 8 
 
 2 Cliron. xvii. 6 
 
 1 Chron. xxi. 25 
 
 2 Chron. iv. 5 
 
 1 Chron. xxi, 12 
 
 2 Chron. viii. ult. 
 
 2 Kings viii. 16, 17 
 2 Chron. ix. 25 
 2 Sam. viii. 4 
 
 1 Chron. xix. 18 
 
 2 Sam. xxiv. 9 
 2 Sam. xxiii. 8 
 2 Kings xxiv. 8 
 2 Chron. xxi. 20 
 a Kings viii. 26 
 
 2 Chron. xiii. 2 
 
 1 Kings XV. 2 
 
 2 Chron. xxii. 29 — 
 2 Chron. xxxviii. 20, 21 
 
 — 2 Chron. xi. 20—22 
 
 2 Kings ix. 27 
 2 Kings xvi. 7 — 9 
 
 PAHT II. 
 
 To give the general solution of them. 
 
 It may be observed concerning these difficulties 
 in general, that most of them, though not all, relate 
 to numbers, names, measures, dates, and genealogies ; 
 for the particular solution, see the commentators on 
 each of the places. We shall only offer the follow- 
 ing remarks, by way of general solution. 
 
 1. Many of the seeming contradictions may be 
 reconciled to each other, without doing any violence 
 to either of the texts opposed, as the commentators 
 have often shown ; the reigns of kings being sup- 
 posed by different writers to begin from different 
 eras, as they reigned alone or in partnership, and 
 the same person being often called by diflerent 
 names, and diflerent men by the same name. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton's Chron. pass. pras. p. 265. 
 
 2. In other cases, it cannot greatly affect the re- 
 ligious use and end of the Old Testament, to ac- 
 knowledge that some numeral mistakes at least may 
 have crept into our present copies, though perhaps 
 they were not to be found in the first original. 
 
 3. It is also to be remembered, that by far the 
 greatest part of these diliiculties, indeec-l nearly 
 three-fourths of them, arise from the book of Chro- 
 nicles, the author of which is unknown, and the 
 evidence of its inspiration less than that of most 
 other books in the Old Testament. See Prop. lis. 
 Grad. 7. 
 
 Ridgley's Div. vol. i. p. 39. Burn. Four Disc. 
 p. 60. Turret, vol. i. Loc. ii. Q. v.* 
 
 ♦ Many of these difficulties, especially tliosc whicli regard tlie boolis 
 of Chronicles, are considered in Dr. ICennicottN two volumes on the 
 
 LECTURE CL. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXIl. 
 To state and answer those objections against the 
 authority of the Old Testament, which have been 
 taken from the fundamental branches of the whole 
 Jewish Economy, and arc not referred to Prop. 120 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 Sect. I. It is urged, That an institution so over- 
 loaded with ceremonies as the Mosaic was, could 
 not be of divine original. It is answered, 
 
 1. That the genius and circumstances of that 
 people required a more pompous form of worship 
 than God would otherwise have probably cho.sen, 
 especially considering tlieir education in the land 
 of Egypt, where such worship was so much prac- 
 tised ; and thus far Spencer seems right, in the 
 general design of his celebrated piece on the Laws 
 of the Hebrews, though he has carried the matter 
 too far in his particular illustrations. 
 
 2. Some of the ceremonies prescribed appear not 
 even to us useless and unaccountable, but, on the 
 contrary, answered some valuable ends ; v. g. they 
 might serve to guard them against the idolatries and 
 superstitions of their neighbours, many of which 
 these rites are so far from imitating, as some learned 
 men have maintained, that (as Witsius Las largely 
 and excellently proved in his ^Egyptiaca) they 
 directly oppose them ; a subject which Dr. Young 
 has well illustrated in his late discourse on idolatry, 
 c. iv. V. They might also bring to their frequent 
 recollection illustrious deliverances wrought out 
 for them, or some important hints of morality, 
 which they represented in such an emblematical 
 way as suited their apprehensions : and, above all, 
 they were fitted to make way for the dispensation of 
 the Messiah ; partly by the affecting and perpetual 
 display which was therein made of the divine 
 majesty, purity, and justice, (which not only tended 
 in general to promote morality, but might especially 
 sliow how proper and needful it was that such mean, 
 polluted, and guilty creatures should approach him 
 by a mediator,) and partly by the representations of 
 many gospel doctrines, especially relating to the in- 
 carnation, atonement, and intercession of Christ, as 
 is show n at large by the apostle in his epistle to the 
 Hebrews. 
 
 State of the printed Text of the Old Testament. It may not be amisn 
 horo to observe, that independently of Die professed commentators, 
 Collections of Remarks on detached 'P.issages of Scripture are particu- 
 larly useful ; and the utility of tliem, with his usual sagacity, has been 
 recommcTided by Lord Bacon. The Kssay on a New Translation, Hal. 
 let's Noles, I'ilkinftton's Remarks on several Passages of Scripture, 
 Kcnnicott's Ueinarks on Select Passiifjes of the Old Testament, Bow. 
 yer's Critical Conjectures and Observations on the New Testament, 
 llanner's Observations on divers Pa.^sanes of Scripture, and other 
 works, are very valuable in this view. Various criticisms of a similar 
 nature are dispcrsefl in the volumes of the Theolosical Repository, and 
 ill the Commentaries and Es.says published by llie Society for promotine 
 the Knowledge of the Scriptures. Tlie foreign illustrators of the sacred 
 writings, lilsiier, Bos, Ra))helins, Krebsius, Wolfius, Micliaelis, and 
 others, will hereafter call for the attention of the student in divinity. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, E 
 
 3. It is exceedinoly probable that, if we had a 
 more particular account of the usages of the neigh- 
 bouring nations, we might find out the reasonable- 
 ness of many of those institutions, which at present 
 appear to us unaccountable ; and what we know of 
 the wisdom of some of them, should engage us to 
 judge favourably of others. 
 
 4. Those precepts for which we can give no other 
 reason at all, did at least serve to keep the Jews a 
 distinct people from all others, which was very 
 proper, in order to preserve the worship of the true 
 God among them, and has since been the founda- 
 tion of all that evidence which arises to Christianity 
 from their continuing so distinct, even in the midst 
 of all their dispersions. Compare Prop. 113. Cor. 
 1,2. 
 
 5. They were expressly assured again and again, 
 in the plainest words, that the principal stress was 
 not to be laid on ceremonial observances, but that 
 the great duties of morality were of much higher 
 esteem in the sight of God. Vid. 1 Sam. xv. 22, 
 23. Micah vi. 6 — 8. Prov. xxi. 3 ; xv. 8. Hos. vi. 
 6. Jer. vii. 4—15. Isa. Ixvi. 1—3 ; Iviii. 3 — 10 ; i. 
 11—17. Amos v. 21—24. Psal. 1. 8—23. To which 
 we may also add the distinction made between the 
 ceremonial and the moral law, by writing the chief 
 branches of the latteron tables of stone, afterthey had 
 been pronounced by an audible voice from Heaven ; 
 not now to insist upon such precepts in the Penta- 
 teuch as Deut. vi. 4, 5. and the many parallel pas- 
 sages which must be sufficient to show that no cere- 
 monial observances could in themselves alone render 
 them acceptable to God. Compare Deut. xxvii. 14 
 —26. 
 
 Leland arj. TInd. vol. 1. p. 63. Limb. Collat. 
 
 Resp. iii. Q. iv. c. ii. 5. p. 315. Wits. JEyyp. 
 
 pass. Watts's Misc. No. lix. p. 251 ; Works, 
 
 vol. iv. p. .5.56. Le/. at). Morg. c. ii. p. 45. 
 
 Lowmun on Heb. Ritual. Sulk. Econoniy of 
 
 the Gospel, book i. c. 2. 
 Sect. II. To circumcision it is objected. That it 
 was cutting off a part of the human body, which, 
 had it been superfluous, would not have been given 
 to man in the most perfect state ; and that it was 
 an operation attended with some danger. It is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That it is plain, in fact, it is not attended with 
 danger; and allowing there might be pain in it, yet 
 that mortification was by no means comparable to 
 the advantages accruing to the Jews from that 
 covenant of which it was the sign. 
 
 2. That very mortification might be intended to 
 remind them of their obligations to mortify tlicir 
 irregular desires and sensual affections. Vid. Deut. 
 X. 16; xxx. 6. Jer. iv. 4. Acts vii. 51. Rom. ii. 
 25— 29. 
 
 3. Such an indelible mark thus impressed might 
 be a proper token of that covenant, in which suc- 
 
 DHICS, AND DIVINITY. 413 
 
 ceeding generations were interested, and which 
 contained so great and important a reference to a 
 person who was in future ages to be born, and who 
 was the foundation of the blessings promised to 
 Abraham in that covenant of which circumcision 
 was the sign. Not to insist upon what Drake has 
 observed, as to the natural benefits which might 
 attend this rite, by which, as he supposes, it was 
 recommended to some neighbouring nations. 
 
 Rev. exam, with Candour, vol. ii. Diss. v. p. 
 
 162. Chris, as old as Great, p. 90. Letter 
 
 to Waterl. p. 33. Answ. of Circum. pass. 
 
 precs. p. 10. Leland ag. Tindal, vol. i. p. 65. 
 
 Drake's Anat. vol. i. lib. i. c. xx. p. 127. 
 
 D. Forb. Thoughts on Rel. p. 84. and Let. 
 
 p. 33. 
 
 Sect. III. It is also objected. That sacrifices are 
 in themselves an absurd and cruel rite, and there- 
 fore could not be made a part of a divine institution. 
 
 We acknowledge, that without a divine revela- 
 tion, there could be no reason to believe they would 
 be pleasing to God ; but as it is plain they were of 
 very early date, (Gen. iii. 21 ; iv. 4.) and prevailed 
 almost universally, it is more probable they were of 
 divine original. (Compare Heb. xi. 4.) They might 
 be intended to promote humiliation, by impressing 
 the mind of the offerer with a conviction that death 
 was due to sin ; and, as a more perfect atonement 
 was gradually revealed, might lead on their thoughts 
 to it. And when the death of beasts might serve 
 this end, it must certainly be lawful to kill them 
 for sacrifice, as well as for food. — As to their being 
 so much multiplied under the Mosaic law, it is to 
 be remembered that a great part of them went to 
 the priest, and in many cases to the ofl'erer ; not to 
 insist on the opinion of some, that the burnt-offer- 
 ings were not entirely consumed. In some in- 
 stances (t). g. in the case of sin-offerings) sacrifices 
 were to be considered as a kind of fine imposed on 
 the offender ; and in many others, as a tribute paid 
 to God, the great Proprietor and King of the coun- 
 try, for the support of the offices of his household : 
 and there is, from the genius of that religion, great 
 reason to believe that a peculiar lilessing attended 
 those who presented them, and gave them a more 
 abundant increase in proportion to their pious zeal. 
 Compare Prov. iii. 9, 10. Mai. iii. 8—11. Ezek. 
 xliv. .30. 
 
 Blount's Orac. of Reason. Burnet at B. Lec. 
 vol. ii. p. 75. Ti7id. of Chris, p. 78. Pers. 
 Sat. ii. ver. 44. Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. 93. 
 Wh'.t. on Heb. ix. 19. Taylor on Deism, p. 
 219. Rev. exam. vol. i. Diss. viii. Lei. 
 ag. Tind. vol. i. p. 66. Phil, to Hydas. Let. v. 
 Jen. Jew. Ant. vol. i. p. 26. Law's Theory, 
 p. 45. 
 
 Sect. IV. It has further been objected, That the 
 whole mystery of the Jewish religion was a con- 
 
414 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 trivancc to enslave the i>eo])lc to the power of 
 priests, ami exhaust their revenues to luaintain tliat 
 order. Compare Deut. xvii. 8 — 13. To tliis it is 
 answered, 
 
 1 . That the tribe of- Levi had a right to the twelfth 
 part of the land in common w ith their brethren ; so 
 that the allotment of tlie cities mentioned Numb. 
 XXXV. 1 — 8. cannot be fairly brought into the ob- 
 jection, unless it could be proved that, in conse- 
 quence of this allotment, the Levites possessed above 
 one tv*-elfth of it. 
 
 2. That the tit/ies, Jirst-fruits, ^c. appointed to 
 be paid them, were in part a just equivalent for 
 their attendance upon the service of the sanctuary, 
 as well as their care in instructing the people out 
 of the law ; and in the payment of this, an extra- 
 ordinary blessing might be expected, as above. 
 
 3. That there was also a magistracy among the 
 people, to which the priests and Levites were in 
 the same subjection as the rest of the Israelites : 
 nor does there appear to be any such exemption in 
 their favour, as many laws established in Popish 
 countries have since given to their clergy. 
 
 4. That it can never be proved the Urim and 
 Thummim was an oracle of such a kind, as to put 
 it in the power of the high priest to produce any 
 new model of government, or in particular instances 
 to rescind such acts of the state as were disagree- 
 able to him, or to grant protection to whom he 
 pleased ; for all this goes upon a very precarious 
 supposition, that the high priest might consult the 
 oracle whenever he pleased, and on whatever ques- 
 tio-n he thought tit ; and that the way of answering 
 in that oracle was by the supposed inspiration of 
 the person wearing the breastplate. And indeed, 
 when we consider in how awful a manner God 
 punished Nadab, Abihu, Korah and his associates, 
 Uzza, and many more, who presumed to adulterate 
 or profane his institutions, one can never imagine 
 he would have permitted a high priest in this 
 greatest solemnity to deliver a false oracle in his 
 name, without immediately inflicting some remark- 
 able judgment upon him: and it seems, that had 
 he pretended to be inspired in any ease, about 
 which he was not consulted, he would have been 
 liable to be tried, as another person falsely pretend- 
 ing to prophecy. 
 
 Morg. Mor. Phil. vol. i. p. 141. Lei. ay. Morg. 
 vol. i. p. 218. Lowm. Civ. Gov. of Heb. c. xi. 
 p. 191. Jen. Jew. Antiq. vol. i. p. 290 ; pras. 
 p. 299. Ward's Diss. No. v. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It may not be improper to observe here, that 
 the very foundation of Dr. Morgan's strange cal- 
 culation to justify his assertion that the Jewisli 
 priests had twenty shillings in the pound, or that the 
 people paid the value of a rack rent for their pre- 
 tended freeholds, depends upon several falsities. 
 
 especially this, tliat he takes it for granted without 
 any proof, that every male was obliged to pay half 
 a shekel at each of the yearly feasts, which he 
 computes at 1,200,0001. per annum. 
 
 Morg. ibid. vol. ii. p. 136, 142. 
 SCHOLll M 2. 
 
 Much in the same strain is that instance of priest- 
 craft which Morgan pretends to find in the institu- 
 tion of the water of jealousy, which he represents as 
 a contrivance to make it safe for women to commit 
 adultery with the priests, and none but them. 
 Numb. V. 11—31. 
 
 In answer to this impious thought, it is sufficient 
 to observe, that nothing can be more unjust than 
 to charge so stupid and villanous a contrivance 
 upon so wise and virtuous a person as Moses 
 appears to have been, who, in the system of his laws, 
 has made adultery punishable with death, no less 
 in a priest than any other person. Considering the 
 consequences attending this trial, in case either of 
 innocence or of guilt, it would, on Morgan's sup- 
 position, be a very ill-judged contrivance : and all 
 that was said under the preceding section, con- 
 cerning the danger of a priest's solemnly profaning 
 the name of God to any fraudulent purpose, would 
 here have the most apparent weight : besides that, 
 the person appointed to preside on this occasion 
 was to be the chief of the priests then in waiting, 
 which would render such a conspiracy as Morgan 
 supposes utterly impracticable. 
 
 Sect. V. It has further been objected, That the 
 Mosaic law does not lay a sufficient stress upon the 
 duties of sobriety, temperance, and chastity, nor 
 make a proper provision against the contrary 
 vices : — but to this it is replied, 
 
 1. As to riot and drunkenness, it is spoken of 
 with great abhorrence, Deut. xxix. 19. and in order 
 to discourage it, there was a special law, which 
 empowered parents even to put their children to 
 death by a legal process, if they continued incura- 
 bly addicted to it ; which was such a provision 
 against the first advances to debaucheries of this 
 kind, as is quite unequalled in the laws of any other 
 nation, Deut. xxi. 18 — 21. To which it may be 
 added, that such provision was made for punishing 
 injurious acts which drunkenness often produces, 
 as would consequently have a further tendency to 
 restrain it. 
 
 2. As to lewdness, it was provided against, (1.) 
 By a general law, forbidding whoredom in any 
 instance, Deut. xxiii. 17. and making it dreadfully 
 capital in the case of a priest's daughter. Lev. xxi. 9. 
 (2.) Adultery was punished with death. Lev. xx. 
 10. Deut. xxii. 22. which extended not only to 
 women whose marriage had been consummated, but 
 to those who were only betrothed, Deut. xxii. 23. 
 and considering how young their girls were gener- 
 ally betrothed, this would have a great effect. (3.) 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 415 
 
 Rapes were also punished with death, Deut. xxii. 
 25 — 27. (4.) If a person debauched a young woman 
 not betrothed, he was obliged to marry her, how 
 much soever his inferior in rank ; and could never 
 on any account divorce her, Deut. xxii. 28, 29. (5.) 
 A person lying with a female slave was fined in the 
 loss of her ransom, Deut. xxi. 14. (6.) Universally, 
 if a woman pretended to be a virgin and was not, 
 whether she had been debauched before or after 
 her espousals, she was liable to be put to death : 
 which was such a guard upon the chastity of all 
 young women, as was of a very singular and else- 
 where unequalled nature, Deut. xxii. 20, 21. (7.) 
 The law by which bastards in all their generations 
 were excluded from the congregation of the Lord, 
 i. e. probably from the liberty of worshipping among 
 his people in the place where God peculiarly dwelt, 
 (Deut. xxiii. 2.) was a brand of infamy which 
 strongly expressed God's abhorrence of a lewd 
 commerce between the sexes ; and considering the 
 genius and temper of the Jewish nation, must have 
 a great tendency to suppress this practice ; so that, 
 upon the whole, sufficient care was taken in the 
 Mosaic institution to convince the Jews that lewd- 
 ness and other kinds of intemperance were highly 
 displeasing to God : and there seems to be no re- 
 maining objection, but that future punishments were 
 not denounced against them ; and that is only one 
 branch of the objection taken from the omission of 
 the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, 
 which will be considered elsewhere. 
 
 Selden de Diis Syr. Synt. i. c. 5. Synt. ii. c. 
 2, 4, 6. with Boyer's Additamenta. 
 
 LECTURE CLI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXIIl. 
 To propose and answer some other objections 
 against the inspiration of Scripture, taken from the 
 general manner in which the books of it are written, 
 and some other considerations not mentioned above. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 Sect. I. Some have oV)jectcd the inelegancy of the 
 style, especially in several parts of it : to w hich we 
 answer, 
 
 1. That the inspiration of a book is not to be 
 judged of by its style, but by its fitness to answer its 
 end, which was something of greater importance 
 than to teach men to write in an elegant and polite 
 manner. 
 
 2. The different genius of different nations is to 
 be considered in judging of tlic style of books ; — 
 and it would be absurd to condemn every thing in 
 eastern and ancient books, which does not suit the 
 western or modern taste. 
 
 3. Many of the supposed solecisms in Scripture 
 may be vindicated by parallel passages in the most 
 authentic writers, as Mr. Blackwall, and many 
 others mentioned in the Preface to the Family 
 Expositor, have largely shown. 
 
 4. There are multitudes of passages, not only in 
 the original, but even in the most literal translations, 
 which have been accounted inimitably beautiful, 
 pathetic, and sublime, by the most judicious critics ; 
 and those in which there seems to be least of artful 
 turn and antithesis, do so much the more suit the 
 majesty and importance of the occasion. 
 
 Burn. 4 Disc. p. 66. Boyle's Style of Scrip. 
 
 Nich. Conf. vol. iv. p. 120. vol. ii. p. 09. 
 
 Spect. vol. vi. No. 405. Fain. Expos, vol. i. 
 
 Pref. p. 5. Warb. Doctr. of Gr. p. 52. 
 
 Brown on Charac. Ess. iii.* 
 Sect. II. Others have objected the want of a 
 regular method both in the Old Testament and the 
 New, which makes it a work of great labour to 
 collect the several doctrines and arguments therein 
 dispersed, and to place them in an orderly and 
 systematical view. To this, besides what is said 
 above, it may be answered, 
 
 1. That it now gives agreeable employment to 
 those that study the Scriptures, thus to range and 
 collect the several passages relating to the same 
 subject, which are dispersed up and down. 
 
 2. That considering the Scripture as a book in- 
 tended for the common people, who are by no means 
 exact judges of method, this is no important defi- 
 ciency : and indeed, on the contrary, the way of 
 teaching men doctrines and truths in such loose 
 discourses, especially as illustrated by historical 
 facts, is much more fit for popular use, rendering 
 these things more easy to be understood and 
 retained. 
 
 3. By this means, such a foundation is laid for 
 arguing the truth of a revelation from the genuine- 
 ness of those books which contain it, as could not 
 otherwise have taken place ; as will abundantly 
 appear by consulting the demonstration of Prop. 
 108. 
 
 i\'ic/i. Conf. vol. iv. p. 157. vol. ii. p. 90. Owen 
 of Underst. Scrip, c. iv. p. 163. Boyle on. 
 Script, p. 53. Machn. Truth of Gosp. Hist. 
 p. 78. 
 
 Sect. III. The obscurity of many passages both 
 in the Old and New Testament, and the numl)cr of 
 controversies amongst Christians to which they 
 have given rise, is also objected, as a further argu- 
 ment against their divine authority. To this it is 
 answered, 
 
 * TIioiirIi Mr. Rlackw.ill may have failed in his attempts to prove 
 the exact purity and eleyaiiee of the style of the New Testament, he 
 has undoutitedly succeeded In illustrating^ the general beauty of many 
 particular paitsages. With regard to the transcendent excellences of 
 the poetical parts of the Old Testament, an)ple information will bo 
 derived from ** Louth's Pradectiones de sacra Poesi Hebraeorum," and 
 from Michaelis's Notes upon that work. 
 
•ItG 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 1. Tlhit it was, humanly speaking-, impossible 
 that there should not be many o))seure passajjes in 
 such very ancient writings, the languages of which 
 have been so long dead. And indeed in any 
 language it might be expected that there would be 
 some obscurity, when some of the subjects were so 
 sublime, and in many respects so incomi)rehcnsible, 
 and when others related to future events, which 
 were to come to pass so long after the prediction, 
 the clearness of which might have frustrated their 
 accomplishment. 
 
 2. That this obscurity generally lies upon those 
 things which are of the least importance ; and 
 where it relates to momentous doctrines, as some- 
 times it must be acknowledged it docs, it afl'ccts 
 what is circumstantial rather than essential in them. 
 
 3. That tlie diiricultics in many passages in 
 Scripture alVord an agreeable exercise to pious and 
 learned men, by whose labours many of them have 
 been happily cleared up. 
 
 4. That in other instances, they may tend to 
 promote our humility, as the secrets in nature and 
 Providence do. 
 
 5. They leave room for the exercise of mutual 
 candour among those of different opinions, which, 
 were it generally to prevail, would do a greater 
 honour to Christianity tlian the most exact agree- 
 ment in principle, or lioiformity in worship, could 
 possibly do. 
 
 NicJi. Conf. vol. iv. p. 167. vol. ii. p. 96. Limb. 
 Theol. 1. i. c. vi. § 7, 8. Lei. ay. Tint!, vol. 
 ii. c. vii. Atterb. Posth. Serm. vol. i. Serm. 
 ix. p. 2.35. Fost. ag. Tind. c. iii. p. 191. 
 Rym. Rev. liel. p. 247. Bourn's Serm. vol. 
 ii. p. 89. Bolint/. on Hist. p. 178. Jiot/le 
 on Scrip, p. 30. Machn. Truth of Gosp. 
 Hist. p. 138. Watts's Orthod. and Charity, 
 Ess. viii. 
 
 Sect. IV. Another set of objections is drawn 
 from the trivial nature of some passages, which are 
 to be found especially in the Old Testament, and 
 sometimes in the New. The vast abundance of 
 words used to relate some facts, (r. </. Gen. v. Numb, 
 viii. Exod. xxv — xxvlii ; xxxv — xxxix.) while 
 others perhaps of much greater importance are en- 
 tirely omitted, or passed over in a very slight man- 
 ner, as also the frequent repetition of the same story 
 and the same sentiments, are objections nearly akin 
 to this. It is answered, 
 
 1. That great allowance is to be made for the 
 genius of eastern nations, in many of whose modern 
 histories we find tlie persons concerned introduced 
 as speaking, and a much greater number of words 
 used than was necessary for giving us some com- 
 petent idea of the fact. 
 
 2. Nevertheless, this makes the story more popu- 
 lar, and tends in a more forcible manner to strike 
 the minds of common readers, suggesting many 
 
 instructive and entertaining thoughts, which in a 
 more concise abstract could not have been intro- 
 duced, at least with so great advantage. 
 
 3. An exactness in many particulars might be 
 useful to those for whom these writings were more 
 immediately intended, — where it is not so to us. 
 
 4. Nevertlielcss, we do not insist upon it that the 
 Scripture is the most perfect model of style, nor 
 pretend to establish such a degree of inspiration as 
 would make that assertion necessary. 
 
 5. The repetitions were often very necessary : the 
 same circumstances of the same or of dillerent per- 
 sons, required the review of the same important 
 thoughts in the poetical, prophetic, and epistolary 
 writings ; and the repetition of the same fact by 
 diU'crent historians, who do not appear to have bor- 
 rowed from each other, is a great confirmation of 
 the truth of it. 
 
 Nich. Conf. vol. iv. p. 177. vol. ii. p. 101. 
 Boyle on Scrip, p. 78. 
 
 LECTURE CLII. 
 
 Sect. V. It is further objected, That if the Old 
 and New Testament had been of divine original, 
 we can hardly imagine they would have been the 
 cause of so much mischief in the world, \\'hich is 
 imputed to the great stress laid on believing certain 
 doctrines. To this it is replied, 
 
 1. That the genius of them both, and especially 
 of the ISew Testament, is so apparently full of 
 meekness, benevolence, and goodness, that nothing 
 can be more unjust than to charge the bigotry and 
 persecuting zeal of its professors upon that. 
 
 2. That this evil has its origin in those lusts of 
 men, which this revelation was peculiarly intended 
 to restrain. 
 
 3. That there have been penal laws, and some 
 considerable degree of persecution among Heathens 
 on religious accounts, where Christianity has not 
 been in question.* 
 
 4. That if there has been more among or against 
 Christians, it has generally been, because Christian 
 principles have spirited up those who have cordially 
 received them to bear greater hardships, as well as 
 engaged them more openly to profess their own re- 
 ligion, and more expressly to condemn those follies 
 and crimes which have passed for religion among 
 other men, much to the danger as well as reproach 
 of those by whom they have been maintained. 
 
 * Proofs that there has been more perseeiition among the heathens 
 than has often \ven imaKined and represented, will lie found in Bishop 
 Watson's Apology for Christianity, and in "Six Letters on Intoler- 
 ance," lately published. That even the otherwise excellent Emperor 
 Marcus Antoninus was a persecutor, has been shown by Mr. Moyle, in 
 a discourse that is pu\)lished in the first volume of the Theological Re- 
 [lository ; and hy Dr. Lardncr, in his .Jewish and Heathen Testimonies, 
 vol. 11. p 178-'i20 ; Works, vol. vii. p. 4U6— J.'I7. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 417 
 
 5. Because that hereby occasionally greater evi- 
 dence has been derived to Christianity, as appears 
 from the preceding argument. 
 
 6. That the eternal salvation of a few is, upon 
 the whole, a rich equivalent for the greatest tem- 
 poral damage sustained : nevertheless, it must be 
 acknowledged that they have much to answer for 
 who, by persecuting under pretence of defending 
 the Gospel, have brought such a reproach upon it. 
 
 7. It is also observable, That men have seldom 
 been persecuted by Christians for denying those 
 doctrines which are evidently contained in the Gos- 
 pel ; but much oftener for refusing to submit to 
 human explications, and very frequently to most 
 corrupt additions; which has been the case of 
 Popish persecution, which indeed furnishes out the 
 greatest part of this argument. 
 
 8. The extraordinary piety, temperance, and 
 charity, especially of the primitive Christians, and 
 the joy of good men in the midst of the severest 
 persecutions, must be allowed an evident proof that 
 the world has been generally the better for Chris- 
 tianity, and a vast balance to what is urged in the 
 objection : not to mention the influence Christianity 
 has had in reforming the doctrines of morality 
 among the Heathens ; as appears from comparing 
 the wriliBgs of the Pagan philosophers after Christ's 
 time with those before it. — For the illustration of 
 the former part of this step, see Cave's Primitive 
 Christianity ; and for the latter, Tillard against 
 Warburton, atl finem. — And we may add here. That 
 the good effects to be produced by the expected pre- 
 valency of true Christianity at last, are to be taken 
 in as further balancing the account. 
 
 9. When all possible allowances are made to the 
 objection, it can be of no weight ; for since reason 
 is the accidental occasion of all this persecution 
 about Christianity, and of all others, whether 
 among Mahometans, .lews, or Pagans, they will as 
 well prove that God is not the Author of our reason 
 as that he is not the Author of the Christian reli- 
 gion : and indeed nothing can be more apparently 
 absurd than to say that God could not give what 
 man may grossly abuse. 
 
 10. As to the stress laid upon helievintj the Gospel, 
 it is ridiculous to make that an objection against 
 the truth of it ; for if the disbelieving of it had not 
 been represented as a very dangerous thing, it had 
 been in effect acknowledging its own evidence so 
 defective, as not to be sufficient for the conviction 
 of an honest inquirer, — and its own importance to 
 be so small, as almost to bespeak a neglect, when 
 yet its pretended apparatus was so amazing, as at 
 
 ' the very first view it mu.st appear to have been : so 
 that here would in effect have been a self-contra- 
 diction, which few writers on either side the question 
 seem to have been sufficiently aware of. 
 
 Jiiv.Sat. XV. pass. Chanil. Pers. p. 1. Warl). 
 2 E 
 
 Div. Lerj. vol. i. p. 296. Let. to the Minister 
 of Bloffat ; Answ. to it. Head. Tracts, p. 
 67. Lei. atj. Tintl. vol. ii. p. 576. Chnnd. 
 Serni. vol. iv. p. 194. Bourn's Serm. vol. i. 
 No. xiv. Let. to Waterl. p. 52. Fam. 
 E.rpos. vol. i. p. 469.* 
 
 Sect. VI. It has further been objected. That the 
 Scripture rules of morality are given in very loose 
 terms, without such particular limitations as par- 
 ticular circumstances require, or without the reason 
 on which they are founded. To this it is replied, 
 
 1. That if this concludes against any thing, it 
 will conclude against all books of morality what- 
 ever, — since they can do no more than lay down 
 general rules, without being able to descend to 
 everj' personal circumstance. 
 
 2. Though God miglit have written such a book, 
 it would have been too voluminous ever to have 
 been read. 
 
 3. There are manj" excellent general rules, which, 
 if men would honestly attend to, they would seldom 
 be at a loss as to their particular duty, especially 
 that of studying to show ourselves approved to God, 
 of doing all to his glory, and of doing unto others 
 as we would they should do unto us. 
 
 4. The reasons are sometimes suggested, espe- 
 cially those taken from the consequence of men's 
 actions. 
 
 5. If there had been such a laboured deduction 
 as in our ethical writers, few would have under- 
 stood it. 
 
 6. It would not have suited the Majesty of the 
 great Legislator, since human laws do not use this 
 method. The declaration of the will of God, and a 
 view to the sanctions and other motives suggested 
 in Scripture, are of far greater importance than 
 numerous decisions in casuistry, aiul laboured re- 
 finements of ab.stract argument. 
 
 Lei. ag. Tintl. c. x. p. 298. vol. ii. p. 243. Dod. 
 Fam. Expos, vol. i. § 39. Note. Atterb. 
 Postli. Serm. vol. i. p. 268. Boyle on Scrip. 
 Style, p. 101. Mackn. Truth of the Gospel, 
 p. 141. 
 
 Sect. VII. The imperfect promulgation of the 
 .lewish and Christian religions has always been 
 reckoned one of the chief objections against their 
 divine authority, and urged as entirely inconsistent 
 witli the justice and goodness of God, if he be sup- 
 posed the Author of tJiem. To this it is replied, 
 
 1. That the objection seems to take it for granted, 
 that it is a part of the revelation that the express 
 knowledge of it is absolutely necessary for the final 
 happiness of every liuman creature, otherwise God 
 
 * The tendency of the Christian religion to promote a spirit of forti- 
 tude and love, and a sound mind, iiwcll illnstrated by Dr. Durlial, in 
 tliri-e discourses from 2 Tim. i. 7. See also his Sermons, vol. i. No. iv, 
 V. vi. Dr. Leetiiman has an admirable discourse on ttic same snlgect, 
 and from the same text, entitled " The Excellency of the Spirit of 
 Christianity." 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 was not (for aiip,lil appears) oblif^ed to give it to 
 any ; and if not to any, then certainly not to all. 
 
 2. Though it be acknowledged that the revelation 
 has given great advantages, especially that of the 
 New Testament, yet that can be no reasonable ob- 
 jection against its being true, though not universal ; 
 since it plainly appears, that if there be a universal 
 Providence, and God be just and good, then it 
 must be consistent with justice and goodness to 
 give dilferent men very difl'ercnt advantages for 
 religious improvement, since (considering the diver- 
 sity of men's tempers and circumstances) it is plain 
 in fact God has done it. 
 
 3. The supposition of the truth of Scripture, 
 (allowing as above, No. i.) is so far from increasiny 
 the difliculty of accounting for the divine conduct 
 which would arise on the foot of natural reli- 
 gion, that indeed it rather lessens it, botli with 
 respect to those who have enjoyed and embraced 
 this revelation, and those who have not : for as to 
 Jews and Christians, it represents thenj not as being 
 left to error and superstition, (which, if Scripture be 
 false, it must be allowed they are,) but as having 
 received several distinguishing favours from the 
 Divine Being, and glorious advantages for eternal 
 happiness. And as to others, it shows us, First, 
 That God has already done more for them than it 
 can otherwise be proved that he has : particularly 
 in the following instances : (1.) By discovering 
 himself in various methods of revelation to Adam 
 and Noah, who had such extraordinary facts to 
 relate with such peculiar advantage from tlieir re- 
 lation to the rest of mankind (see Winder's His- 
 tory of Knowledge, vol. i. c. iii. and v.) ; and 
 also to others in the earliest ages of the human 
 race, from whom, on this supposition, useful 
 traditions might be handed down to posterity, the 
 remainders of which seem evident in Job and 
 his friends, Melchizedek, Abimeleeh, and many 
 others, and even in some of the Heathen writers. 
 Compare Prop. cix. suh init. (2.) By the remark- 
 able removes and dispersions of the Abrahamic 
 family, and the singular appearances of God for 
 them and the Jewish nation, previously to their 
 settlement in Canaan; which were peculiar advan- 
 tages to Egypt and Canaan, had they been wise 
 enough to have improved them. (3.) In constitut- 
 ing the Mosaic religion in such a manner, as to 
 encourage strangers to live among the .lews, and to 
 oblige the Jews to endeavour to promote the know- 
 ledge of the true God abroad as well as at home. 
 (4.) By remarkable appearances of God in their 
 favour, both in the conquest of Canaan under such 
 great natural disadvantages, and during their abode 
 in it, especially in the victories of David, the fame 
 of Solomon's magnificence and wisdom while he 
 continued faithful to God, which he no doubt 
 would improve for the spreading of religion among 
 
 the many sages and princes who resorted to his 
 court (compare 1 Kings iv. 2!> — .31; x. 23 — 25); 
 but especially by the train of providences to Israel 
 ill and after the Babylonish captivity, which occa- 
 sioned remarkable proclamations througli the whole 
 Babylonian and Persian empires, by which vast 
 numbers of people must be admonished. (5.) By 
 the dispersion of the Jewish Scriptures themselves 
 when translated into Greek. (6.) By the mission of 
 Clirist and his apostles, and the early and exten- 
 sive propagation of his Gospel by them. (7.) By all 
 the advantages which have since been given, by 
 the settlement of European and Christian colonies 
 in almost all the principal, especially the maritime, 
 parts of Asia, Africa, and America, whereby indeed 
 immense numbers have been converted ; and tlie 
 number miglit have been yet greater, if those ad- 
 vantages had been properly improved. — Secondli/, 
 Revelation encourages us to hope that the time will 
 come, when there shall be a universal prevalence 
 of the knowledge of God, and all the Heathen na- 
 tions shall be gathered in. Prop. 112. Solut.gr. 1. 
 — Thirdly, In the mean time, it not only assures us 
 that God will make all gracious allowances for the 
 circumstances and disadvantages in which they have 
 been placed,— but seems to point out a way, in 
 vvliich virtuous and pious Heathens, if such there 
 be, may be accepted witli God ((. e. through the 
 atonement and mediation of Christ) with greater 
 honour to divine justice than we could otherwise 
 conceive. 
 
 Jenk. of Chris, vol. i. p. 43. Waterl. Scrip. 
 Vmd. part ii. Postsc, Tind. Chris. Lei. ag. 
 Tind. vol. ii. c. xvi. p. 554. Fost. ag. Tind. 
 c. ii. ; Serm. vol. ii. p. 144. Young on Idolat. 
 vol. ii. p. 217. Ridl. on Spirit, p. 235. 
 Ditto on Chris. Rev. vol. i. c. 19. Bourn's 
 Ser. vol. ii. p. 183. Hodijes's Ser. p. 309. 
 Law's Theory of Religion, part i. ii. iii. occas. 
 Hartley on Man, vol. ii. prop. 42. Brehell't 
 Serm. p. 18. 
 
 LECTURE CLIII. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXVlIi. 
 The books of the Apocrypha are those which are 
 added by the Church of Rome to those of the Old 
 Testament received by Protestants ; and take their 
 name from their having been supposed to have lain 
 hid a considerable time after they were written. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The names of these books, as they stand in the 
 vulgar Latin Bible, are two of Esdras, Tobit, Judith, 
 the remainder of Esther, Wisdom of Solomon, 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 419 
 
 Ecclesiasticus, Baruch, with Jeremiah's Epistle, the 
 Song of the Three Children, the Story of Susannah, 
 of Bel and the Dragon, the Prayer of Manasseh, 
 and two books of Maccabees. The second of Esdras 
 is not extant in Greek ; but the most authentic copy 
 of it is the Latin : but in some copies of the Greek 
 Bible there are two other books of Maccabees added ; 
 the third of which contains chiefly the history of 
 the Jewish affairs under Ptolemy Philopater. 
 
 Prid. Con. vol. ii. p. 185, &c. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXIV. 
 The books of the Apocrypha are not to be received 
 as written by a plenary superintendent inspiration. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Josephus only mentions 22 books of the Old 
 Testament as inspired, in which these cannot be 
 included ; and he expressly says, that those which 
 were written after the time of Artaxerxes (/. e. pro- 
 bably Artaxerxes Longimanus, from whom Ezra 
 and Nehemiah had their commission) were not 
 looked upon by the Jewish church as of equal au- 
 thority. Compare Prop. 105. yr. 4. 
 
 Joseph, ay. App. 1. i. c. viii. p. 1333. 
 
 2. They never appear to have been quoted in the 
 New Testament, as most of the books of the Old 
 are, though some passages of them might have been 
 much to the purpose of the sacred w riters. 
 
 3. The author of the first book of Maccabees, 
 which is one of the most valuable in the whole col- 
 lection, intimates that there had not for a consider- 
 able time been any prophet in Israel divinely in- 
 spired, I Mac. iv. 46. and x. 27. and the author of 
 the second book seems expressly to own that he 
 had no supernatural assistance, 2 Mac. xv. 38, 39. 
 and ii. 19—28. 
 
 4. There are some passages in these books which 
 seem in themselves absurd and incredible, v. g. the 
 angel's lying to Tobit, and afterwards driving away 
 the devil by a fumigation, Tobit v. 12. compared 
 with Tobit xii. 15. Tobit vi. puss, the story of lire 
 being turned into water, and v\ce. versa, 2 Mae. i. 
 19 — 22. the march of the tabernacle and ark after 
 Jeremiah, ihid. ii. 4 — 8. to which most writers add 
 what they think the inconsistent and contradictory 
 account of the death of Antiochus Epiphanes, who 
 is said to have died of grief, 1 Mac. vi. 8, IG. and 
 to have died miserably in the mountain, consumed 
 with worms, 2 Mac. ix. 5—12, 28. 2 Mac. i. 16. is 
 also quoted, as relating that his brains were beaten 
 out, but that Antiochus must probably have been 
 another person. 
 
 6. There are other passages which are inconsistent 
 with some parts of the Old Testament; v. t/. Judith 
 (c. ix. 2.) justifying the murder of tlie Shcchemites, 
 condemned in Gen. xlix. 7. The author of tlie 
 Wisdom of Solomon, speaking in the person of that 
 2 E 2 
 
 prince, represents Israel as under oppression, which 
 it was not in Solomon's days, Wisd. ix. 7, 8 ; xv. 
 14. compared with 1 Kings x. 27. (Yet some have 
 urged 1 Kings xi. 14, 25. as an answer to this ob- 
 jection.) Baruch is here said to have been carried 
 into Babylon, at the same time when Jeremiah tells 
 us he was carried into Egypt, Bar. i. 2. Jer. xliii. 
 6. to which we may add the false account of the 
 fact related. Lev. x. 46—20. in the reference to it, 
 1 Mac. ii. 11. Compare also Esth. xii. 5. with vi. 
 3, 6 ; to which may be added the applause of self- 
 murder, 2 Mac. xiv. 41, &c. 
 
 6. There are some other passages relating to the 
 history of foreign nations, so inconsistent with what 
 all other historians say, as not to be admitted with- 
 out much greater evidence than belongs to these 
 books. 1 Mac. i. 6, 7 ; viii. 16. 
 
 1, 2, 3—6. 7. From comparing all these steps, 
 on the one hand, and considering on the other that 
 there is no positive evidence for their inspiration, 
 it follows that these books are not to be admitted as 
 written by a plenary superintendent inspiration. 
 Q. E. D. 
 
 Burn, on the Art. p. 89. Turret. Loc. i'l. Q. ix. 
 Limb. Theol. 1. i. c. iii. § 5. Bcnnet ag. 
 Popery, p. 71. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 The insisting upon reading some portion of these 
 books, instead of lessons from Scripture, in the 
 daily olliccs in the church, was an unieasonable and 
 cruel imposition in those who fixed the terms of 
 conformity in England in the year 1662. 
 
 Hist, of Nonconf. p. 235. Old Whig, vol. ii. 
 No. 87. Calumy's Abridg. of Buxt. Life, c. 
 x. p. 252. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 We allow that some of the Christian fathers cited 
 these books with great regard : nevertheless, most 
 of them place the apocryphal books in a class in- 
 ferior to those which tliey call canonical ; and the 
 first council which is said to have received them 
 was the provincial council of Carthage, A. D. 397, 
 who evidently come too late to be more competent 
 judges of this question than the Jews themselves 
 were. Nevertheless, we acknowledge these books 
 to have been of considerable anticjuity : and as 
 some of them are very valual)le, on account of the 
 wise and pious sentiments they contain, so the his- 
 torical facts, and references to ancient notions and 
 customs, in others of them, make thenj well worthy 
 an attentive perusal. 
 
 Dupin on the Canon, I. i. c. i. § 4- — 6. Cosins's 
 Hist, of the Canon. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is exceedingly probable that the chief reason 
 for which the authority of these books is maintained 
 
-120 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 by tlio Church of Roiiu- is, that some passages in 
 them i-oiiiitfiiancc tlicir superstitions, particularly 
 the intercession of angels, Tobit xii. 15. — and pray- 
 ing for the dead, 2 Mac. xii. 40 — 45. which is 
 represented as prevalent even in favour of those 
 Mho died idolaters. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 A more particular critical account of most of 
 these books may be found in 
 
 Lewis's Ant. vol. iv. 1. viii. c. 46. Prid. Con. 
 vol. i. p. 36, &c. vol. ii. p. Ill, &,c. Lee's 
 Dissert, on Estlras. 
 
 PART VII. 
 
 CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THE SCRIPTURE DOCTRINE RELATING 
 TO THE EXISTENCE AND NATURE OF GOD, AND THE DIVINITY 
 
 OF THE SON AND SPIRIT. 
 
 LECTURE CLIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXV. 
 The account given us in the Scriptures of the Old 
 and New Testament, of the nature, perfections, and 
 providence of God, is agreeable to tliat which the 
 light of nature discovers concerning them. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. The Scripture expressly asserts that there is a 
 God, the Creator of all things. Gen. i. 1. Psal. 
 xxxiii. 6. Acts xiv. 17. Heb. xi. 3. 
 
 2. The Scripture asserts that God is an Eternal 
 Spirit. John iv. 24. Heb. xi. 27. 1 Tim. vi. 16. 
 Deut. xxxiii. 27. Psal. xc. 2. 
 
 3. That he is omnipresent. 1 Kings viii. 27. Psal. 
 cxxxix. 7 — 10. Jer. xxiii. 24. 
 
 4. That he knows all things. 1 Sam. ii. 3. Job 
 xxxvi. 4 ; xlii. 2. Psal. cxlvii. 5. Jer. xxxii. 19. 
 Acts XV. 18. And that future contingencies are not 
 excepted from this general assertion, appears from 
 liis having foretold some of the most contingent 
 events, (vid. Prop. Ill, 112.) as well as from the 
 following passages, Isa. xlii. 9 ; xlviii. 3; xlvi. 10; 
 xii. 22 — 26. Psal. cxxxix. 2. 
 
 5. He is perfectly wise. Job ix. 4. 1 Tim. i. 17. 
 Isa. xl. 13, 14. 
 
 6. That he is omnipotent. Jer. xxxii. 17. Rev. xix. 
 6. Psal. cxlv. 3. Job ix. 4, &c. 1 Chron. xxix. 11, 
 12. 
 
 7. That he is perfectly f/oorf. Psal. lii. 1 ; cxlv. 9 ; 
 Matt. xix. 17. James i. 17. Exod. xxxiv. 6. 1 John 
 iv. 8. 
 
 8. The justice of God is asserted, Psal. xxxvi. 6; 
 cxxix. 4; cxix. 137. Rom. ii. C. Acts x. 34, 35. 
 Rev. XV. 3. 
 
 9. That he is true and faitlful. Numb, xxiii. 19. 
 Deut. vii. 9. 2 Sam. vii. 28. Tit. i. 2. 
 
 10. That he is perfectly lioly. Isa. vi. 3; xliii. 15; 
 Ivii. 15. Psal. cxlv. 17. Rev. xv. 4. 
 
 11. That he is immutable. Exod. iii. 14. Mai. iii. 
 6. Heb. i. 10—12. James i. 17. 
 
 12. That he is incomprehensible. Job xi. 7. Psal. 
 cxxxix. 6. Eccles. iii. 11 ; viii. 17. 1 Tim. vi. 16. 
 Rom. xi. 33. 
 
 13. That his providence extends to every event, 
 preserving, disposing, and governing all things, 
 Psal. xxxvi. 6; cxxxvi. 25; civ. cvii. cxlv. 13, &c. 
 Job xii. 10. Acts xiv. 17 ; xvii. 28. Matt. x. 29, 30. 
 And it may be observed in the general, that all the 
 vast number of Scriptures, in which the operations 
 of inanimate bodies, such as the sun, rain, &c. as 
 well as the actions of brutes are ascribed to the 
 divine agency and direction, do entirely agree with 
 Prop. 32. Vid. Prov. xvi. 33. Psal. Ixv. 9, &c.) 
 civ. 13 — 30; cxlv. 15,16; cxlvii. 16 — 18. Amos iii. 
 6 ; iv. 7. Job xxxvii. xxxviii. xxxix. 
 
 14. That he is the one only God, is expressly 
 asserted, Deut. vi. 4 ; iv. 39; 2 Sam. vii. 22. PsaJ. 
 Ixxxvi. 10. Jer. x. 10, 11 ; xiv. 5. Matt. xix. 17. 
 John xvii. 3. 1 Cor. viii. 4—6. 1 Tim. vi. 15; ii. 6. 
 
 15. That he is a being of all possible perfectioni, 
 Matt. V. 48. 1 Chron. xxix. 11. Psal. viii. 1. 
 
 Cast. Chris. Inst. c. 11. Gayton's Scrip. Acc, 
 of the Faith and Practice of Christians, c. i. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 So great an agreement between the doctrine of 
 Scripture and reason with regard to the being and 
 attributes of God, is a considerable internal evidence 
 in proof of the revelation itself, considering how 
 much of religion depends upon forming right notions 
 of the Supreme Being. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 4-^1 
 
 Scott's Chris. Life, vol. ii. p. 318; Works, 
 vol. i. p. 310. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Considering how very clearly these things arc 
 taught in the forecited passages, and in such a mul- 
 titude of others parallel to them, there can be no 
 just reason to apprehend, that those popular pas- 
 sages, in which the members of the human body, or 
 the passions of the human mind, are ascribed to 
 God, should be taken in « literal sense, so as to 
 mislead any impartial and attentive reader, how 
 moderate soever his capacity may be : so that no 
 just objection against the preceding corollary can 
 be drawn from such passages. Compare Prop. 120. 
 gr. 14. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To the Scriptures urged gr. 4. in proof of the pre- 
 science of future contingencies, it has been replied, 
 That those passages only relate to God's knowledge 
 of Ids own works : but as this solution can only be 
 applied to some of those Scriptures, so it is evident 
 with regard to them, that as the equity, wisdom, and 
 goodness, of God's works towards his rational crea- 
 tures, depends upon the correspondency between 
 them and the moral character of those creatures, 
 God would not have a complete view of his dispen- 
 sations towards them if he were ignorant of future 
 contingencies ; nor can the contrary doctrine be 
 reconciled with those other Scriptures, which repre- 
 sent the divine volitions as immutable. Compare 
 1 Sam. XV. 29. Job xiv. 5 ; xxiii. 13, 14. Psalm 
 xxxiii. 11. Isa. xlvi. 10. Mai. iii. 6. Acts xv. 15 — 
 18 ; xvii. 26. Limb. Theol. 1. ii. c. xviii. § 27. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 To that part of the argument, </>-. 4. which is drawn 
 from predictions, it has been replied, That when God 
 foretells future events, he detennincs to make them 
 certain by making them necessary ; and in order to 
 reconcile this with his justice, it has been added, 
 that his creatures in these actions are not considered 
 as in a state of probation, but that in these particu- 
 lars it is suspended : but this objection is sufficiently 
 answered. Pro/). 111. Cor. 1. and may further be 
 illustrated by comparing Gen. xv. 10. Exod. iii. 19, 
 20; vii. 3. 4. Matt. xxvi. 24. towhiclimay perhaps 
 be added Acts i. 16—20. See (besides Collibcr in 
 the place referred to above) 
 
 Saurin's Serm. vol. ii. p. 199. Ridyley's Body 
 of Divinity, vol. i. p. 69. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 That God is not the Author of sin, expressly ap- 
 pears from all the texts relating to the holiness of 
 God, and those relating to his justice and goodness 
 when compared with the threatenings denounced 
 against sin, as well as from James i. 13. ; whence 
 it appears that scriptures urged on the contrary 
 .side, such as Prov. xvi. 4. 2 Sam. xii. 11 ; xvi. 10. 
 
 are to be interpreted as not to express an irresisti- 
 ble influence on the mind of man, but only pro- 
 posing in the cours? of his providence such occa- 
 sions and temptations, as he knew would in fact, 
 though not necessarily, prevail, to draw man to the 
 commission of sin : and that God should act thus, 
 is not a difficulty peculiar to Scripture, since it is 
 agreeable to what we see every day, if we allow the 
 universality of his providence. 
 
 Limb. ib. 1. ii. c. xxx. ^ I — 7. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Scripture does expressly assert, net only that all 
 things are foreknown by God, but that he tvorhs all 
 according to the counsel of his own will, Eph. i. 11. 
 and that even the death of Christ happened accord- 
 ing to his determinate purpose, Luke xxii. 22. Acts 
 ii. 23 ; iv. 28. whence it follows, that to make this 
 consistent with what is said elsewhere, wc must 
 allow that in Scripture language those things are 
 said to be determined, or decreed, by God, not only 
 which he wills himself by his own irresistible agency 
 to effect, but which he foresees will come to pass, in 
 consequence of his previous volitions relating to 
 preceding circumstances, through the intervention 
 of free agents, and which on that foresight he de- 
 termined to permit : and in this sense it must be 
 admitted on the preceding principles, that all things 
 which happened arc decri ed by him, and that the 
 light of nature teaches ns they are so. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Nevertheless, notwithstanding this agency of 
 God, even about the sinful actions of his creatures, 
 which the lightof reason evinces, and those passages 
 of Scripture assert ; forasmuch as the word tempta- 
 tion carries with it an ill sense, and implies some 
 malignity of design in the being said to tempt an- 
 other, we acknowledge, according to James i. 13. 
 that it is not proper to apply it here ; and great 
 care should be taken in popular discourses to avoid 
 this way of representing things, whicli, though it 
 be strictly and philosophically true, yet may be so 
 mistaken by common hearers, as to be injurious 
 rather than subservient to the purposes of practical 
 religion. 
 
 LECTURE CLV. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXVI. 
 That glorious Person, who appeared in the world 
 by the name of Jesus Christ, did not begin to ex- 
 ist when he was conceived by his virgin mother, but 
 had a being, not only before that period, but before 
 the creation of the world. 
 
 Theol. Rrpos. vol. ii. No. 2. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. It is he M ho is spoken of by John, under the 
 name of tlio LOGOS, and is expressly said to have 
 been in the heyiiinin;/ with God, and afterwards to 
 have been mude flesh, i. e. to have appeared in a 
 human form. John i. 1,2, 3, 14. Compare Rev. 
 xix. 12. See also Heb. ii. 14. 
 
 2. Our Lord himself frequently asserted his com- 
 inij down from Heaven as his Father's Messenger, 
 which he could with no propriety have done, had 
 he not existed before his incarnation ; for what the 
 Socinians assert, that he ascended into Heaven be- 
 fore he opened his public ministry, to receive in- 
 struction from thence, is a fact which cannot be 
 proved, yet was surely important enough to have 
 been recorded ; since Moses's converse with God in 
 the mount, and Christ's temptation, are both so 
 largely mentioned. It will also be found, that some 
 of the texts quoted below refer to a settled abode in 
 Heaven previously to his appearance among men, 
 and not to a transient visit thither : John iii. 31 ; 
 vi. 38, 50, G2 ; xiii. 3 ; xvi. 28 ; xvii. 5. As for 
 John iii. 13. the latter clause is a much stronger 
 argument against the opposite hypothesis, than the 
 former is for it. 
 
 Clarhe on Triu. No. .574. Fam. Expos, vol. ii. 
 § 179. p. 487. Lowm. Tracts, p. 237. Unita- 
 rian Tracts, vol. ii. p. 25. 
 
 3. Paul asserts that Christ emptied himself of 
 some glory which he was before possessed of, that 
 in our nature he might become capable of suffering 
 and death, Phil. ii. 6, 7. (Greek) ; with which may 
 well be compared the following texts, which, though 
 not equally evident with the former, seem to have 
 some reference to the same matter : John viii. 58. 
 1 Cor. XV. 47. 
 
 Clarhe on Trin. No. 53-5, &e. Dawson on 
 Loffos, p. 109. 
 
 4. Christ seems to have been the Person who 
 appeared to Isaiah (compare Isa. xi.pass. with John 
 xii. 41.) ; from whence, as well as his being called 
 the Loffos, and some other considerations hereafter 
 to be mentioned, it seems reasonable to conclude 
 that Christ is the Person who is called the Angel 
 of God's Presence, by whom he revealed himself to 
 Abraham, Jacob, Moses, and the other Old-Testa- 
 ment saints ; Isa. Ixiii. 9. Exod. xxiii. 20, 21 ; — 
 but the particular examination of this branch of tlie 
 argument will be reserved for a distinct proposition. 
 
 Watts's Scrip. Doct. of Trin. Prop. viii. p. 51 ; 
 Works, vol. vi. p. 433. 
 
 5. The work of creation is so expressly ascribed 
 to him in Scripture, tlwit this alone might be a suf- 
 ficient proof of his having a real existence before 
 the world was made : John i. 3. Col. i. 15, 16, 17. 
 Heb. i. 2, 8, &c. Eph. iii. 9. 
 
 1,2, 3, 4, .5. G. Valet propositio. 
 
 Pearson on Creed, p. 107. Fowler's Descent of 
 Christ. Watts's Diss, on Trin. No. iv. § 1, 
 2, 4. Watts on Glory of Christ, Diss. ii. 
 EmJyu's Vindic. of Fowler, ap. Tracts, vol. i. 
 p. 363. Hist, of Unitar. p. 37. Lard, on 
 Logos, p. 12 ; Works, vol. xi. p. 89. Lowm. 
 Tracts, No. 3. Daws, on Logos, p. 286.* 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Forasmuch as in several of the preceding Scrip- 
 tures there is such a change and humiliation asserted 
 concerning Christ, as could not properly be asserted 
 concerning an eternal and immutable being, as 
 such, there is reason to believe that Christ had 
 before his incarnation a created or derived nature, 
 which would admit of such a change ; though we 
 are far from saying lie had 710 other nature, and that 
 all the texts quoted above refer to this. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 This glorious Spirit, or Logos, must undoubtedly 
 have been a most wonderful Person, possessed of 
 vast and unknown degrees of natural and moral 
 perfections, (for both must be included in the ex- 
 pression of the image of God,] beyond any of the 
 creatures both in Heaven and upon Earth who were 
 produced by his operation. Vid. Ax. 10. 
 
 Watts's Diss, on Trin. No. iii. ; Works, vol. vi. 
 p. 518. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 His emptying himself for our sakes, and taking 
 upon him the form of a servant (as it is expressly 
 said he did, that he might become capable of suffer- 
 ing and death for us, vid. Phil. ii. 7, 8. Greek, 
 Heb. ii. 9 — 17.) was a most amazing instance of 
 condescension, and lays those, for whose benefit it 
 was intended, under the highest obligation to love, 
 reverence, and obey him. 
 
 Bnlkley's Eeon. of the Gospel, ii. 2. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 The ample revelation of such a Person, who by 
 the light of nature was entirely unknown, must be 
 a glorious peculiarity of the Christian scheme, 
 which recommends it to our highest regard, and 
 demands our most serious attention. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 They who, neglecting to inquire into the evi- 
 dences of Christianity, bring themselves under a 
 necessity of disregarding tliis glorious Person, bring 
 guilt upon themselves by their neglect, proportion- 
 able to the excellency of his nature, the greatness of 
 our obligation, and the opportunity they had of 
 
 * [n addition (o the writers who contend that the creation ascrilwd 
 to Christ in the New Testament refers only to liis being; the Author of 
 the Gospel dispensjitioii, may l)c mentioned Mr. Lindsey, and Mr. 
 Tyrwhitt of Cambridge. In the second volume of tlie Theological He. 
 pository, are Brief lU-niarks by the former of these Rentlemen, roncern. 
 ins creations mentioned in the sacred writings, Mr. Tyrwliitt 
 
 h.-is discussed the sul)iect in a discourse inserted in tlie second volume 
 of Commentaries and Essays published by the Society for promoting 
 the Knowledge of the Scriptures, p. 9—14. The discourse is entitled, 
 An Kxplanation of St. Paul's Doctrine concernuig the Creation of all 
 things by .Jesus Christ. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 423 
 
 being acquainted with liini, if they had diligently 
 improved the talents lodged in their hands. 
 
 LECTURE CLVI. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 There are many who will not allow of any pre- 
 existent, created, or derived nature of Christ, but 
 explain all the phrases quoted above relating to his 
 coming into the world, by the glory he originally pos- 
 sessed, and understand his emptying himself oi it at 
 his incarnation, merely as expressing a more or 
 less sensible manifestation of a nature properly 
 divine or immutable ; alleging, that whatever may 
 be asserted concerning either the divine or human 
 nature, may be predicated of Christ as QtavQ^i^nroQ. 
 To prove this doctrine and interpretation they 
 plead, not only that God is said to have redeemed 
 the church with his blood, and to have laid down his 
 life for us, Acts xx. 28. (Vid. Mills, Enty, and 
 Hallet in Lac.) and, according to some copies, 1 
 John iii. IG. (Vid. Mills in Loc.) but that Heb. ii. 
 9, 11, 16. are utterly inconsistent with the notion of 
 such a pre-existent super-angelic Spirit as is sup- 
 posed, Cor. 1. 
 
 Ans. It is difficult to say what inconsistency there 
 is between that doctrine and the two former of these 
 forecited texts, if we allow the glorious Spirit of 
 Christ (which there is no reason at all to call human 
 in its pre-existent state) to have been reduced to 
 the condition of a human infant ; since we have no 
 notion of the nature of a human soul, but that of a 
 created rational spirit united to a«nd acted by a 
 human body, as our own spirit is : and as to Heb. 
 ii. 16. if £7r(Xa/i/3aj/£rai be interpreted took hold of, as 
 it may naturally signify, and is plainly used, Luke 
 xxiii. 26. all form of objection from these words 
 will vanish. 
 
 Ab. Tayl. ag. Watts, p. 82. Hughs' s 2d Def. 
 Pref. p. 12. Whist. Prim. Chris, vol. iv. 
 p. 229. Lard, on Logos, p. 1 ; Works, vol. 
 xi. p. 83. Watts Gl. ofChr. Disc. iii. § G. 
 
 SCHOI II M 2. 
 
 What change was made in the Logos when united 
 to human flesh, must be acknowledged to exceed 
 our conceptions, and therefore to be incapable of 
 full explication. The fathers frequently speak of a 
 quiescence of its perfections. — If it be objected, 
 That to suppose such a being divested of its will, 
 . of its knowledge, and power, as it must certainly 
 I have been, if it became the human soul of Christ 
 (Luke ii. .52; xxii. 43. 2 Cor. xiii. 4.) is in fact to 
 suppose it annihilated, and another being substi- 
 tuted in its room, it may be answered, That whether 
 we do or do not suppo.se some degree of actual 
 
 thought and perception essential to tlio human 
 mind, such a consequence will not follow from such 
 a supposed change ; seeing here will still continue 
 in the same subject either actual thought, or a power 
 of thinking. 
 
 Emlyn's Exam, of Bennet's Neiv Theory, vol. ii. 
 p. 313. Fortuita Sacra, p. 217. Lard, on 
 Logos, p. 22 ; Works, vol. xi. p. 95. Watts 
 on the Glory of Christ, p. 335. Clayt. Vind. 
 part iii. p. 132. 
 
 SCHOLIIIM 3. 
 
 The sentiments of the ancient Jews concerning 
 the Logos, are to be found in 
 
 Philo Jud. p. 195. Euseh. Prep. Evan. 1. vii. 
 c. xiii. xiv. I. xi. c. xv. Watts's Diss. No. 
 iv. § 3. Scott's Chris. Life, vol. iii. p. 550, 
 &c. Pears, on Creed, p. 118. Tayl. on Trin. 
 p. 2.58. 
 
 To which it may not be improper to add, That 
 the Mahometans held an eternal ancient word, sub- 
 sisting in God's essence, by which he spoke, and 
 not by his simple essence ; and the Platonics had 
 a notion nearly resembling this, though Dr. Cud- 
 worth insists upon it, that it was not the same with 
 that whicii the Arians afterwards held. 
 
 Ockleys Sarac. Hist. Pref. p. 88. Cudworth's 
 
 Intel. Syst. p. 573. Mosh. Eccl. Hist, in See. 
 
 Quart, part ii. c. v. ^ 10. Ess. on Sp. § 40. 
 
 LECTURE CLVII. 
 
 APPENDIX TO PROPOSITION CXXVI. 
 PROPOSmON. 
 
 Christ was the Person in and by whom God 
 appeared to men, under the Old Testament, by the 
 name of Jkhovah. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. There was often a visible appearance of Je- 
 hovah, the God of Israel. — Gen. xviii. pass. Exod. 
 xxiv. 10. Isaiah vi. 1. 
 
 2. Scripture, as well as reason, assures us, the 
 Father was not, and could not be, seen. — John. i. 18; 
 V. 37. 1 Tim. vi. IG. Heb. xi. 27. 
 
 3. The Person spoken of as Jehovah, when visibly 
 appearing to men, is sometimes expressly called 
 the Angel of the Lord. — Gen. xviii. 1, 2; xxii. 15, 
 16; xxxi. 11,13. Exod. iii. 2. 4 ; xiii. 21 . compared 
 with xiv. 19, 24. Exod. xxiv. 9 — 11. Gen. xlviii, 
 15, 16. Numb. xx. 16. compared with Exod. xx. 2. 
 Judges vi. 12, 14. Isa.Ixiii.9. Zech. iii. 1,2; xii. 8. 
 He is also called the Captain of the Lord's Host, 
 Joshua V. 14, 15. compared with vi. 2. and the 
 Angel in whom the name of God was, Exod. xxiii. 21. 
 
 4. There is no hint of a plurality of persons sue- 
 
424 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 ccssivcly employed as the medium of those divine 
 manifestations. 
 
 6. Wlion there is a reference to past transactions, 
 they are referred to one Person as speaking, tliough 
 numbers be sometimes described as present. — Psal. 
 Ixviii. 17 ; Ixxviii. 15, &c. Hos. xii. 4, 5. 
 
 1 — 5. (i. There was one glorious Person, called 
 both Jehovah and his Angel, who was, as above, 
 under the Old Testament, the medium of divine 
 manifestation. 
 
 6. 7. It is exceedingly probable that some great 
 regards would be paid to this glorious Person in 
 the whole dispensation of God, and that we should 
 learn something of his dismission, if he were dis- 
 missed from that office, or of his present state, if he 
 were not. 
 
 8. We learn from various passages in the New 
 Testament, that Clirist is the Logos of the Father, 
 (John i. 13. Rev. xix. 1—3, 16.) by whom he made 
 the world, and by whom he governs the kingdom 
 of providence. — See the texts quoted Prop. 126. 
 gr. 6. 
 
 9. We do not read in the New Testament of any 
 other person, who had before been the medium of 
 the divine dispensations,— but upon this occasion 
 resigned his oflice to Christ. 
 
 7—9. 10. From the general character of Christ 
 in the New Testament, compared with the account 
 of the divine manifestations in the Old, and the 
 silence of both with regard to any other person who 
 was such a medium, we may infer, that it is most 
 probable Christ was that Person. 
 
 11. Various things said to be spoken by or ad- 
 dressed to Jehovah in the Old Testament, are said 
 in the New to be spoken of, done by, or addressed 
 to, Christ, when such passages are referred to in the 
 New, 1 Cor. x. 9. Heb. xi. 26 ; i. 8 — 12. compared 
 with Psal. cii. 25, &c. John xii. 41. compared with 
 Isa. vi. 9, 10. but Acts vii. 38. cannot properly be 
 introduced here ; for the word there must rather be 
 understood of Moses than of Christ. 
 
 12. Several Scriptures not directly testifying 
 this, will admit of the easiest interpretation, by 
 supposing a reference to it ; — John i. 11. Heb. xii. 
 25 — 27. compared with Psal. Ixviii. 1 Cor. x. 9. 
 
 13. The primitive fathers of the Christian church 
 represented this as the ease. — See especially Justin 
 Martyr's Pialogue with Trypho. 
 
 14. It is also urged that the Chaldee Paraphrase 
 shows it to have been the sense of tlie ancient 
 Jews ; and that there are many passages in their 
 other most ancient writings, which speak the same 
 language, and wliich can only be understood on this 
 hypothesis. 
 
 10 — 14. 15. Christ was the Person by whom 
 God appeared, under the Old Testament, by the 
 name of Jehovah. Q. E. D. 
 
 Momma, vol. i. lib. ii. c. vii. § 34. Watts on 
 
 67. of Chr. Dias. i. Lowm. on Civ. Gov. of 
 Heb. App. Clarke on the Trin. No. 616". 
 Tennison on Idol. p. 333. Wits. Econ, Fad. 
 lib. iv. c. iv. § 4. Harris on Mess. p. 130. 
 Barrington's Essag on Div. Dispens. part i. 
 Appen. Diss. ii. Flem. Cliris. vol. ii. p. 255, 
 &c. Tumh. Appeal, p. 131. Ess. on Spirit, 
 § 53 — 73. Unit. Tracts, vol. i. p. 31.* 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this it is objected. That this weakens St. Paul's 
 argument in Heb. xiii. 2. and utterly destroys that 
 in cap. ii. 2, 3. as both Grotius and Peiree have 
 urged. As to the former of these texts, it is said 
 that, if the hypothesis in the proposition were true, 
 tlie apostle would have recommended hospitality 
 not merely from those instances in which persons 
 had unawares entertained angels, but in which they 
 had received Christ himself, appearing under the 
 character of the Angel of the Lord; but it may be 
 sufficient to answer, that it does not seem necessary, 
 in order to maintain thehonour of Scripture, to assert 
 that upon every occasion the apostles urged the 
 strongest arguments that could possibly be pro- 
 posed ; besides, that this argument would not really 
 have so much force in it as at first view it might 
 appear to have ; for as Christ had now left the 
 earth, there would no longer be any opportunity of 
 showing such hospitality to him again. Compare 
 Acts iii. 21. As to Heb. ii. 2, 3. it is pleaded that 
 if Christ was personally concerned in giving the 
 law, there was no room to argue (as the apostle 
 does) the superiority of the Gospel dispensation 
 from its being published by our Saviour's ministry, 
 — since in this respect they were both equal. With 
 regard to v/hieh, if it should not be allowed (as 
 some have thought) that angels in this place only 
 signify messengers, which indeed the context does 
 not seem to favour, — yet this may be reconciled 
 with the hypothesis in the proposition, if we suppose 
 Christ to have been present in some visible form on 
 Mount Sinai, but to Iiave used the voice of angels in 
 proclaiming that law which he publicly gave to 
 Israel from thence ; not to urge that these texts 
 may in general refer to any message delivered by 
 angels, and not particularly to the law ; for it must 
 
 * Tlie ddcti ine of the proposition is opposed at large by Mr. Low- 
 man, in his work, entitled Three Tracts: — I. Remarks upon this 
 question, Wlietlier the appearances, under tlie Old Testament, were 
 appearances of the true God himself, or only of some other spiritual 
 being, representing the true God, and acting in his Name. 2. Aa 
 E^say on the Shucliinah ; or, Considerations on the Divine Appearances 
 mentioned in the Scri|itnre. 3. Texts of Scripture relating to (he 
 I^o^os considered.— A Letter concerning Mr. Lowman's Three Tracts, 
 and in opposition to them, may he seen in the sixteenth volume of the 
 IMonlhly Review, ]>. I ; but the most elaborate and ample vindicator of 
 llie opinion that Christ was (he Angel of the Covenant, and the Person 
 by wiioni God a[ipeared, under the Old Testament, by the name of 
 Jehovah, is the lute Rev. Henry Taylor, in The Apology of Benjamio 
 Ken Mordccai to his Friends for embracing Christianity ; in several 
 letters. The second and third letters are particularly devoted to this 
 subject. Mr. Lindsey, in the Sequel to the Apology on resigning the 
 Vicarage of Catterick, Yorkshire, chapter the sixth, has endeavoured 
 to show that iMr. Taylor's notion, and that of the orthodox fathers, of 
 Clirist being the Person by whom (Jod spoke to the patriarchs, and 
 gave the law to the Israelites, has no more foundation in the Scriptures 
 than it basin reason. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 425 
 
 be owned, that the following Scriptures show that 
 the giving- the law on Mount Sinai must be com- 
 prehended, if it were not principally referred to. 
 See Acts vii. 53. Gal. iii. 19. Psal. Ixviii. 17. On 
 the w'hole, considering that in the places quoted 
 above, God is said to have been among those angels, 
 it seems impossible to defend the apostle's argu- 
 n»ent, if we suppose an extraordinary presence of 
 the Father among them, on any topic, which will 
 not also sufficiently defend it if we suppose Christ 
 to have been so present. His appearance inhuman 
 flesh, to preach the Gospel with his own mouth, and 
 seal it with his blood, was so much greater con- 
 descension, than his encamping among the legions, 
 whom he used as his heralds to proclaim his will, 
 that it argues the Gospel to lie much nearer his 
 heart than the law ; and consequently the danger 
 of despising the former, to be greater than that of 
 despising the latter. 
 
 Peirce on Heb. ii. 2. Saur. Diss, vol, ii. p. 170. 
 SCHOLIl'M 2. 
 
 It is further objected. That God himself must 
 sometimes have spoken as a distinct Person from 
 Christ, of which Exod. xxiii. 20 — 23 ; xxxiii. 1 — 3. 
 are urged as probable, and Matt. iii. 17 ; xvii. 5. 
 John xii. 28. as certain, instances. To this it is 
 replied. That though we allow the Father to have 
 spoken sometimes without the mediation of the Son, 
 it will not thence follow that he was not the medium 
 yeneralhj made use of, especially when there were 
 visible appearances to the church of the .Tews. 
 
 Owen on Heb. vol. i. p. 164. 
 SCHOLIl'M 3. 
 
 Mr. Lowman has objected. That the name of t/ie 
 Anffclof the Lord might be given only to a material 
 substance, which was not animated by any inferior 
 spirit whatever (which seems indeed to have been 
 the Sadducean hypothesis with regard to angels in 
 general). — Loum. Civ. Gov. App. p. 4.5 — 48. but it 
 is answered. As this does not agree with several 
 other passages quoted above, so least of all with 
 Exod. xxiii. 20, &c. and since the phrase Anijel of 
 the Lord does, generally at least, signify a distinct 
 rational being, (as will afterwards be abundantly 
 proved,) it is necessary to interpret it .so in the 
 present case, unless convincing reasons could be 
 assigned for confining ourselves to this unlikely 
 interpretation. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 I As for Mr. Peirce's hypothesis of Christ's under- 
 taking the care of the .Jewish people in such a 
 I manner as that he might be called their (iuardian 
 I AiKjel, while other angels were guardians in other 
 countries, (Dan. x. 13.) and that for administering 
 his providence so remarkably well, he w as appointed 
 by God to be the head over all principalities and 
 powers ; and that those angels were divested of 
 
 their former authority, that they might be made 
 subject to him, to which he refers Eph. iv. 8. Col. 
 ii. 15. — there is this great objection against it. That 
 it seems not to make sufficient allowance for that 
 superior dignity which the Logos must be possessed 
 of, as the Creator of angels, and as more excellent 
 than any of them. Vid. Heb. i. 
 
 Peirce on Col. ii. 15. and Heb. i. 9. 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 What has been said above, may perhaps give 
 light to that much-controverted text, Phil. ii. 6, 7. 
 the sense of which seems to be, " That Christ, who, 
 when he appeared in divine glory to the Old-Tes- 
 tament saints, did not think he was guilty of any 
 usurpation in speaking of himself by those names 
 and titles which were peculiar to God ; neverthe- 
 less, divested himself of those glories, that he 
 might appear in our nature." 
 
 Clarke on Trin. No. 934. Tat/l. on Trin. p. 
 190. Peirce and Whit, in Loe. Pears, on 
 Creed, p. 121. Moore's Prop. p. 168. Con- 
 fat, p. 25. Bos. Exer. c. xxiv. § 5. p. 127. 
 Fort. Sac. p. 178. Wolf, in Loc. vol. iv. 
 
 LECTURE CLVIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXV'II. 
 To enumerate the principal Scriptures in which 
 names, titles, attributes, works, and honours, which 
 are frequently appropriated to God, are, or seem to 
 be, ascribed to Christ. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 Sect. I. As for divine natnes, 
 
 1. The name Jehovah, which is appropriated to 
 God, Psal. Ixxxiii. 18. Isa. xlv. 5; xlii. 8. is given 
 to Christ, Jer. xxiii. 6. Isa. xlv. 23 — 25. compared 
 witli Rom. xiv. 10 — 12. Isa. xl. 3. compared with 
 Luke i. 76. and Isa. vi. 1, 9, 10. with John xii. 40, 
 41. To these some also refer Zech. xi. 12, 13; and 
 whereas some urge, o:i the other side, Exod. xvii. 
 
 Judges vi. 24. Ezek. xlviii. ■ in wliich 
 names, compounded of the word Jehovah, are given 
 even to inanimate beings, it is answered. That there 
 is a great deal of dill'erencc between that and the 
 ease of giving it to persons, since in such instances 
 as those here produced, there was so evident a 
 reference to the Divine Presence, that there (!ould 
 be no mistake concerning the meaning of the name : 
 see also Jer. xxxiii. 16. But if the reasoning in 
 the preceding j)roposition be allowed, there is no 
 need of insisting on such particulars ; it being in- 
 disputable, that on those principles Christ is called 
 Jehovah many hundreds of times. 
 
 2. He is not only called God frctiuently, Matt. i. 
 23. John i. 1, 2 ; xx. 28. 1 Tim. iii. 16. (vid. Mills 
 
426 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 TM Loc. ) and pcrlinps 2 Pet. i. 1. — but he is called 
 i/ie true God, 1 Jolui v. '20, 21. compare 1 John i. 
 2. and John xvii. 3. the </rcat and mightij God, Tit. 
 ii. 13. Isa. ix. G. compare Deut. x. 17. Jer. xxxii. 
 18. Christ also seems to be called the onhj wise 
 God, Jude ver. 24, 25. compare Eplu v. 26, 27. 
 See also Rom. x\i. 27. the only God, Isa. xlv. 15, 
 17,21 — 23. compared uitli Rom. xiv. 11. and God 
 blessed for ever, Worn. ix. 5. compare 2 Cor. xi. 
 31 . and Rom. i. 25. 
 
 It is pleaded, in answer to these texts, That tlie 
 word God is often used in a sutordinate sense, v. g. 
 1 Cor. viii. 2 Cor. iv. 4. Exodus vii. 1. Psalm 
 xcvii. 7 ; Ixxxii. 6. John x. 34 — 36. but it is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That in most, if not all, of these places, a 
 subordination is expressly intimated. 
 
 2. That such additional titles as those mentioned 
 above are never used ; to which some add, 
 
 3. That 0 Otog is never used concerning any who 
 are Gods, only in a subordinate sense ; but 2 Cor. 
 iv. 4. is an instance of the contrary. 
 
 Skct. II. Titles appropriated to God, are also 
 applied to Christ. 
 
 1. He (if the preceding reasoning be allowed) 
 calls himself the God of Ahraham, Isaac, and Jucoh, 
 Exod. iii. 6. compare Acts vii. 30 — 32. Hos. xii. 
 3—5. 
 
 2. Lord of Hosts, Isa. viii. 13, 14. compared with 
 the following passages : 1 Pet. ii. 6 — 8. Psal. cxviii. 
 22. Matt. xxi. 42. and 2 Sam. vi. 2. to which some 
 add Isa. liv. 5. compared with 2 Cor. xi. 
 
 3. King of kings, and Lord of lords. Rev. xvii. 
 14 ; xix. 13 — 16. compared with Dq^it. x. 17. 1 Tim. 
 vi. 14, 15. 
 
 4. The First and the Last, Rev. i. 17, 18 ; ii. 8. 
 compare Isa. xli. 4. and xliv. 6. To the former of 
 these especially it is objected, That Christ, though 
 a created Being, might use such language as the 
 Ambassador, and therefore Representative, of God. 
 It is answered, That it is not usual for ambassadors 
 to assert that they are the persons from whom they 
 are sent ; upon the same principles, any angel or pro- 
 phet might have used the same language, and the 
 temptation to idolatry would have been greater 
 than it is reasonable to suppose God would have 
 permitted. These arguments are further confirmed, 
 by considering, on the one hand, how averse to 
 idolatry the Jews were at the time when the New 
 Testament was written, and how propense the Gen- 
 tiles ; which would have made such bold figures of 
 speech in that book peculiarly dangerous. 
 
 Burn, on Art. p. 44. Harris on Mess. p. 137. 
 
 Sect. III. Attributes sometimes appropriated to 
 God, are applied to Christ. 
 
 1. Omniseience, Col. ii. 3. Rev. ii. 23. to which 
 many add John xxi. 17 ; ii. 24, 25. Matt. xii. 2.5. 
 compared with 1 Kings viii. 39. and Jer. xvii. 9, 10. 
 
 2. Omnipresence, or a power of perception and 
 operation in distant places at the same time, Matt, 
 xviii. 20 ; xxviii. ult. Col. i. 17. to which many 
 add Heb. i. 3. compare Jer. xxiii. 24. To these 
 some add John i. 18 ; iii. 13. compare John ix. 25. 
 (Greek) ; and also Gen. xix. 24. concerning which 
 see Calvin's Notes on that place, and compare Hos.- 
 i. 7. 
 
 3. Almighty poiver, Phil. iii. 21. to which many 
 add Rev. i. 8. It is indeed debated, whether that 
 be spoken of Christ or the Father, but Rev. i. 11, 
 17, 18; ii. 8; xxii. 12, 13, 20. make it probable, 
 that it refers to Christ. See also Prop. 126. gr. 5. 
 
 4. Eternity, Rev. i. 11, 17. Heb. vii. 3. Some 
 also add Heb. xiii. 8. Prov. viii. 22, 23. compare 
 Psal. xc. 2. 
 
 5. Immutability, Heb. i. 12; xiii. 8. compare 
 Mai. iii. 6. James i. 17. and some have argued 
 from John xvi. 15. that this, and all the other attri- 
 butes of God, are claimed by Christ as his. See 
 John V. 26. 
 
 Saur. Ser. on Heb. i. 12. Owen and Syhcs in 
 Loc. 
 
 LECTURE CLIX. 
 
 Sect. IV. Divine luorks of creation and universal 
 support are ascribed to Christ as above, (see Prop. 
 126. gr. 5.) with this remarkable circumstance, that 
 all things are said to have been made for as well 
 as by him. Col. i. 16, 17. It is objected. That God 
 is said to have created all things by Jesus Christ in 
 several texts : compare 1 Cor. viii. 6. Eph. iii. 9. 
 To this it is replied. That Sia often signifies for as 
 well as by ; so that it may import their being made 
 for the glory of Christ, or rather that the created or 
 derived nature of Christ was the instrument by 
 which the world was made. Compare Rom. xi. 36. 
 
 Moore's Prop. p. 121. 
 
 Sect. V. Religious ivor ship, though appropriated 
 to God, Deut. vi. 13, 15; x. 20. Matt. vi. 10. was 
 by divine approbation and command given to Christ, 
 Heb. i. 6. John xx. 28. Acts vii. 59. Phil. ii. 9—11 . 
 compare Rom. xiv. 11. John v. 23. To this it is in 
 the general objected. That we are to distinguish 
 between supreme and subordinate worship, the 
 former of which is due to God alone ; the latter 
 maybe given to creatures : compare 1 Chron. xxix. 
 20. Matt, xviii. 26. It is replied, That in this case 
 the worship addressed to man was apparently a 
 civil, not a religious, homage ; and that if it be the 
 Christian scheme to introduce any inferior God, to 
 whom religious adoration is to be paid, i. e. to whom 
 we are to pray, whom we are to praise, in whom we are 
 to confide, by whom we are to swear, (all which acts 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 427 
 
 of worship are addressed to Christ in the following 
 passages, John xiv. 1. answered by Exod. xiv. 31. 
 and 2 Chron. xii. xx. 20. Rom. x. 13. 1 Cor. i. 2. 
 Rom. XV. 12. 2 Cor. xii. 8. Rom. ix. 1.) one would 
 have supposed that there should have been the 
 strictest care to adjust the degree of worship due to 
 him, that it might not interfere with that of the 
 Supreme God : and it is hard to reconcile this v/ith 
 its being so often declared to be the design of the 
 Gospel to bring men to the worship of t/ie onhf true 
 God, (Acts xiv. 15 ; xvii. 23, 24. Gal. iv. 8. 1 Thess. 
 i. 9.) or with the force of Christ's reasoning in Luke 
 iv. 8. This branch of the argument is likewise 
 much illustrated by a multitude of texts, in which 
 the apostles express an unlimited veneration, love, 
 and obedience to Christ, and that dependence upon 
 him and devotedness to him, which can only be 
 justified in this view, and would indeed be very 
 criminal, if he were to be considered only as an 
 exalted man, or a mere creature; which two ex- 
 pressions, by the way, when applied to Christ in his 
 present state, seem to coincide more than some 
 have been willing to allow. Compare Phil. i. 20, 
 21. Col. iii. 11. Rom. xiv. 7 — 9. and many other 
 texts quoted by Mr. Jennings in his discourses on 
 preaching Christ. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It appears by the tenor of this proposition, that 
 most if not absolutely all those names, titles, attri- 
 butes, and works, which are ascribed and appro- 
 priated to the one eternal and ever-blessed God in 
 Scripture, are also ascribed to Christ ; and that 
 such divine worship is required or encouraged to 
 him, as is elsewhere appropriated to the one eternal 
 and ever-blessed God. 
 
 Watts on the Trin. p. 35 — 84 ; Works, vol. vi. 
 
 p. 428. Clarhe and Tayl. on Trin. pass. 
 
 Moore's Prop. p. 129. Emhjn's Inquiry, ap. 
 
 Tracts, vol. i. p. 83. Boyse's Ans. Eml. 
 
 Worship of Christ, ap. Tracts, vol. i. p. 207. 
 
 Shucliford's Hist. vol. i. p. 293. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXIX. 
 The word Person commonly signifies one single, 
 intelligent, voluntary agent, or conscious being ; 
 and this we choose to call the philosophical sense of 
 the word ; but, in a political sense, it may express 
 the different relations supported by the same pliilo- 
 sophical person ; v. g. the same man may be father, 
 husband, son, &c. or the same prince King of Great 
 Britain, Duke of Brunswick, and treasurer of the 
 empire. 
 
 Dr. D. Scott's Ess. tow. a Dem. of Trin. Drf. 
 ii. Jenkins on Christianity, vol. ii. c. 26. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 One philosophical person may sustain a great 
 number of persons in the political, or, as some call 
 it, the modal sense of the word. 
 
 Watts's Diss. No. vi. p. 180 ; Works, vol. vi. 
 p. 619. Sir Isaac Newt. 2 Letters, p. 103. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 Besides this, some have given various definitions 
 of person in the theological sense of the word ; of 
 which few are more remarkable than that of Marcus, 
 That " personality is a positive mode of being, 
 ultimately terminating and filling a substantial na- 
 ture, and giving to it incommunieability." To 
 describe the Personality of Father, Son, and Holy 
 Ghost, as " expressing that perfection of the Divine 
 Nature, whereby it subsists three different ways, 
 the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, each of which, 
 possessing the Divine Essence after his peculiar 
 manner, thereby becomes a distinct Person," may 
 perhaps be a definition much of the same import. 
 Marci Medulla. 1. v. § iii. Sloss on the Trin. 
 p. 28, 29. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXVIII. 
 
 God is so united to the derived nature of Christ, 
 and does so divell in it, that, by virtue of that 
 union, Christ may be properly called God, and such 
 regards become due to him as are not due to any 
 created nature, or mere creature, be it in itself ever 
 so excellent. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 127. Cor. 1. Such divine names, titles, 
 attributes, and works, are ascribed, and such divine 
 worship demanded or encouraged, to Christ, as are 
 elsewhere appropriated to God. 
 
 2. Christ cannot be a being distinct from God, 
 and yet coordinate with him, since that would infer 
 such a plurality of Gods as is contrary both to 
 natural and revealed religion (Pi-op. 39, 125. gr. 
 14.) ; besides, a niuJtitude of things are said of 
 Christ in Scripture, which undoubtedly jlrove him 
 to be really and truly a man, and cannot be said of 
 the one living and true God in liimself considered ; 
 V. g. that he hungered, felt pain, died, &c. — Com- 
 pare 1 Tim. ii. 5. 
 
 1, 2. 3. There must be some wonderful union of 
 God with the man Christ Jesus, to lay a foundation 
 for such ascriptions and regards. 
 
 4. The Scripture expressly speaks of such a 
 union, and of God as dwelling in Christ. — John x. 
 28— 30, .38; xvii. II, 20—23. Col. i. 19. compare 
 Eph. iii. 19. Col. ii. 19. John xiv. 9, 10. 
 
 4. 5. Valet propositio. 
 
 Cttlnmy on Trin. p. 31. Watts's Diss. No. ii. ; 
 Works, vol. vi. p. 511.* 
 
 * Since these Lectures were written, tlie question concerning the 
 Divinity of our Lord iias afforded matter for repeated, and almost per- 
 petual, discussion. As it would be diHicult, and indeed needless, to 
 enumerate all the ptiblications that have appeared upfni the suhject, 
 we must content ourselves with nientionin;j the uif)st considerahle part 
 of them, with reference, so far as we are able, to the diOerent perrods 
 and aspertsof the controversy. Those whodisputed the supreme God. 
 head of Christ, were, for a time, chietly of the Arian persuasion. This 
 was the case with Mr. Hopkins, a clergyman iu Sussex, who published, 
 without his name, An Ap])eal to the Comtnoii Sense of all Christian 
 People, concerning an irnportiint Point of Doctrine, imposed upon 
 
428 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCIIOLIUM 1. 
 
 Against lliis it is objected, That Christ acknow- 
 ledges himself inferior to the Father, John xiv. 28. 
 
 their r»»iiN<'ietice?i by tlie Aiilliority of Chnrcli Government, and in 
 purtiriiliU' to the IMeiiihersof the Clitncli of Kniiland. — In oppo^itiun to 
 this work was printed, Asinri-rc Chrivtian's An-^wcr to thr Ajtpeal to the 
 Cumninii 8ei»«e of all Christian IVople, — in a Kt tter to the Appellant, 
 by (ho Kev. Thomas IM'DonncH, D. D. Mr. Hopkins's Trrati>e yave 
 occasinii, we believe, to two or three other pieces in support of the 
 common doctrine of tlie Trinity. 
 
 The next important publication of the Artan kind win the Essay on 
 Spirit, ascribed t(» Dr. Kobcrt ('layton, Bisliop of Clobber, and which 
 was tlie lie^iiiiiing of a considerable controversy. The prodiictiims of 
 the Hisliop's antau;onists were as fidlow : — A Letter to the Uiiiht 
 Reverend the Lord Hisbop of Clobber, occiisioncd by bis Lordship's 
 Essay nii Spirit ; a Dissertation on the Scripture Expressions, the Anficl 
 of the Lord, and the Any;el of Jesus Christ, containin<^ a full Answer 
 to a late Essay on Spirit; An etTectual and easy Demonstration, from 
 Principb's purely philosophical, of the Truth of the sacred, eternal, 
 co-e()iial Ti inity of the Godhead, by the Hev. John Kii kby ; A secoiul 
 Lett.T to the Bisliop of Cloffber; An Answer to the Essay on Spirit, 
 by Tliomas Knowles, M. A. ; A full Answer to tlie Essay on Spirit — 
 the writer of this tract was the Kev, Mr. AN'illiant Jones, who bath 
 appeared since, upon various occasions, a zealous advocate for the 
 Trinity; The Xeg^ativc on that Question, Whether is the Arcbanud 
 Michael our Saviour ? exaniined and defended, by Sayer Rudd, M. D. ; 
 A Vindication of the Doctrine of the Trinity, from the Exceptions of 
 ii late Pamphlet ; A second \'in<licatioii — these two pii»ces were written 
 by the late Dr. Randolph; The holy Scriptural Doctrines of the 
 Divine Trinity in esisential Unity, and of the (Jodhead of Jesus Christ, 
 by John Scott, D. D. ; An Essay towards an Answer to a Rook, entitled 
 An Essay on Spirit, by Dr. M'DonncU ; A Short Vindication, by the 
 same author. 
 
 On the Bisbop*sside of the question, appeared A Sequel to the Essay 
 on Spirit, by Mr. Hopkins above mentioned ; The Doctrine of tbe Tri- 
 nity, as usually explained, inconsistent with Scripture and Reason; A 
 Defence of tbe Essay on Spirit ; and A plain and proper Answer to the 
 Question, Why does not tbe Bishop of Clo;;her resign Iiis Preferments ? 
 The two last tracts are supposed to have been the productions ni Dr. 
 Clayton himself. In this c<)ntroversy, the books of principal impor- 
 tance were, on the one side, Mr. Hopkins's Sequel ; and on the other 
 side. Dr. Rand<)lph's Vindication. 
 
 A more recent vindicator <if tbe Arian hypothesis, was Mr. Henry 
 Taylor, in bis Apolo^^y of Bt^njaniin Ben Mordecai to his Friends, U*y 
 embracing; Christianity; to whom may be added Dr. Hiinvood, in his 
 Five Dissertations ; in the first of wliich he opposes the Atbanasiaii 
 DoclTine; and in the sernnd, tlie Socinian Scheme. Dr. Price riofs the 
 same with rej^ard to both tliese Schemes, in his Sermons on the Chris- 
 tian Doctrine. A Defence of the Arian hypothesis may likewise be 
 .seen in tlie fourth volume of tlie Theological Repository, p. 153-1(13; 
 and in Mr. Cornish's Tract on the Pre-existence of Christ. 
 
 Of late years, the controversy relative to tbe Divinity of Christ, has 
 chiefly been betwixt the defenders and opposersof the Sorinian System ; 
 amouf^ the former of whom Dr. Priestley stands particularly distin- 
 guished. Previously however to the Doctor's writmg:s upon the sub- 
 ject, several works were published of the sau)e tendency. Anions 
 these, tbe most elaborate were Mr. Hopkin Haynes's Scripture Account 
 of the Attributes and Worship of Ood, and of *lhe Char.icter and OHices 
 of Jesus Clirktt ; Dr. Lnrduer's Letter, written in the Year 1730, ron, 
 cernin;; the question, Whether the Logos supplied tlte Place of a Hu- 
 man Soul in the Person of Jesus Clirist ?— and Mr. Cardale's True Doc- 
 trine of the New Testament c()nccrning' Jesus Christ considered ; 
 wherein tlie misrepresentations that have been made of it, upon the 
 Ariau hypothesis, and Uj>on all Trinitarian and Athanasian Principle^, 
 are exposed ; and the Honour of our Saviour's Divine Character and 
 Mission is maintained. — Mr Cardale was likewise the author of A Com- 
 ment on some remarkable Passages in Christ's Prayer at the Close of 
 bis pubUc Ministry; he'inz a Supplement to the true Doctrine of the 
 New Testament and of a Treatise on the Application of certain Terms 
 and Epithets to Jesus Christ, showing that they have no Fonodation 
 either in the written Revelation, or in any Principles of sound Reason 
 and true Philosophy. We may add in this place, ttiou^^h not published 
 till tlie year 1784. Dr. Lardner's Two Schemes of a Trinity considend, 
 and the Divine Unity asserted, in Four Discourses upon Philip, ii. 5 — 
 \\. The pieces referred to of Dr Lardner, besides the separate im. 
 pressions of them, may be seen in his VV orks, vol. xi. p. 79 — 196, vol. x. 
 p. COO- 643. 
 
 Dr. Priestley's publications relative to tbe present subject are, An 
 Appeal to the serious and candid Professors of Christianity, No. v; A 
 familiar Illustration of certain Passaixes of Scripture ; A general View 
 of the Argumente for the Unity of (iod, and a;;aiiist tbe Divinity and 
 Pre-existene** of Christ, from Reason, from the Scriptures, and frttm 
 History; A History of the Corruptions of Christianity; A Reply to 
 the Anin-adversions on tin- History of tbe Cr»rruptions of Christianity, 
 in the Monthly Review for June. 1783; Letters to Dr Horsley, Arch- 
 deacon of St. Albans, in three parts; Remarks on tlic Monthly Review 
 of the Letters to Dr Horsley ; A History of early Opinions concern- 
 ing Jesus Christ ; Defences of Unit.iriaiiism for the Year 178G ; De- 
 fences of Unitarianism for the Year 1787 ; and Defences of Unitarianism 
 for the \'ears 1788 and I78i*. One of the most distin;;uished opponents 
 of Dr. Priestley was Dr. Horsley, succp.*«sive]y Bishop of St. David's, and 
 of Rochester, in three distinct publications, now collected together into 
 one Volume, under tbe followini; title ; Tracts in Cotitroversy with Dr. 
 Priestb;y, upon tiie historical Question of the Belief of the First Aires 
 ^omir Lord'y Divinity. Originally published in the Years 1783, 1784, 
 and 178G. Now revised and aujjmented with a lartje addition of Notes, 
 
 that the Father is called his God, John xx. 17. 2 
 Cor. \i. 31 ; that he disclaims the infinity of know- 
 ledge, power, and goodness, Mark xiii. 32. Joltn v. 
 
 and supplemental Disquisitions.— Aiuonfi; the other anta<^onists of Dr. 
 Priestley, may he mentioned Dr. Home, in his Sermon on the Duty of 
 c'lMleiidiiif; for the Faith, and his Letter by an Uiuler-(iradnate of 0.x- 
 ford ; Mr. Parkhurst, in his Demonstration, from Scripture, of the 
 Divinity and Pre-existence of our Saviour; E. W. Whitaker, in bis 
 tour DiaIo;;ues on the Doctrine of the Trinity; Dr. (Jeddes, in his 
 Letter to prove, by one prescriptive Arj^ument, that tbe Divinity of 
 Jesus Christ was a Primitive Tenet of Christianity ; Mr. Howes, in his 
 Appendix to his fourth Volume of Observations on Books; Dr. Croft, 
 in his Bainpton Lectures; Mr Hawkins, in bis Lxpostulalory Address 
 to Dr. Priestley; Dr. Knowles, in his Primitive Christianity ; Mr. 
 Barnard, in his l>ivinity of Christ demonstrated ; Mr. Kett, in liis 
 Bamplon Lectures; and some volumes besides of tlie .same lectures. 
 
 Another advocate for the Socinian Scheme is Mr. Lindsey, in his 
 Apolo';y for resi;;niii;; the Vicarajje of Catterick ; his Se(|uel to tbe 
 Apo|o;:V; his Two Dissertations on the Preface to St. Jolui's Gos. 
 pel, and on prayin;^ to Christ ; bis Catechist, or an Inquiry concerninfj' 
 the only true God and Object of Worship; his Historical View of the 
 Slate of the Unitarian Hoctrine and Wor.ship ; in his Vindicias 
 Priestleiaiife, beiiiu' an Address to the Students of Oxford and Cam- 
 brid^je ; his Second Address to tlie same; bis Examinatic»n of Mr. 
 Robinson's Pica for the Divinity of Christ ; his List of False Readinjis 
 and Mistranslations of the Scriptures wliich contribute to support tbe 
 yreat Error concerniufr Jesus Christ; his Conversations on Ciiristian 
 Idolatry; and his Inquiry into the Evidence which points out Christ 
 to iiave lieen only a Creature of the human race, invested with extra- 
 ordinary Powers from God, as it arises from bis own Declarations, and 
 those of his Apostles and Evangelists. This last piece is in the first 
 volume of the Conunenlaries and Essays published by the Society for 
 promotins" the Knowledge of the Scriptures. The productions in sup- 
 port of the divinity of our Lord, occasioned by Mr. Lindsey's writings, 
 are principally as follow : — A Plea for the Divinity of Christ, by Mr. 
 Robinson; A Scriptural Confutation of the Arguments a{»:ainst the 
 one Godhead of tbe Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, by a Layman ; A 
 Vindication of the Doctrine and Liturgy of the Church of Enfjland, 
 by Georse Bingham, B. D. ; Reflection.s on the Apology of the Rev. 
 Theophilus Lindsey ; A Vindication of the Worship of the Son and 
 the Holy Ghost, a;;ainst the Exceptions of Mr. Theophilus Lindsey, 
 from Scripiureand Antitpiify, by Thomas Randolph, D. D. ; A Letter 
 to the Remarker on the Layman's Scrij)tural Confutation, by Dr. 
 Randolph; and An Intjuiry into the Belief of the Christians of the 
 first three Centuries, respcctinu' the one Godhead of the Father, Son, 
 and Holy Ghost, by William Bur^h, Esq. tbe author of tlic Layman's 
 Scripturiil Coufutnlion. 
 
 A tract, under the title of Obfections toMr. Lindsey's Interpretation 
 of the first fourteen Verses of St. John's Gospcl, as set forth in the 
 Sequel to bis Apolog:y, by a Serious Enquirer, is an Arian publication. 
 Two pieces were published in defence of Mr. Lindsey. These were, 
 Remarks on tlie Layman's Scriptural Confutation, and Letters to Dr. 
 Randolph; both of them written by the Rev. Mr. Temple. Con- 
 cerniiif^ tbe Worship of our Saviour, besides tbe treatises already 
 specified, appeared Remarks on Mr. Lindsey's Dissertation upon 
 prayinf; to Clirist ; in which tbe Aruuments he there proposes against 
 the Lawfulness of all reliiiious Addresses to tbe Lord Jesus are 
 examined. Upon Ibis subject, without any reference to Mr. Lindsey's 
 writings, we may here add Dr. H()rne's Sermon on Christ's beinjr the 
 Ohject of reli;:iou3 Adoration; and a pamphlet, entitled Divine Wor- 
 ship due to the Whole Bles.sed Trinity. On the otlier side of the 
 (juestion is a posthumous tract of Mr. Cardale's, being: a" In(|uiry, 
 whether we have any Scripture Warrant for a direct Address of Sup. 
 plication, Praise, or Thanksgiving', either to the Son or to the Holy 
 Ghost ? 
 
 Additional works, in vindication of our Lord's Divinity, are Dr. 
 Sbeplierd's Free Examination of ttie Socinian Exposition of tbe pre- 
 fatory Verses of St. John's (lospel ; A Defence of the Doctrine and 
 clernal Sonship of our Lord Jesus Christ, as revealed in the Scriptures, 
 in Opposition to a late Srheine <)f Temporal Sonship ; Hodson's Jesus 
 Christ the true God, and only Object ot Supreme Adoration ; the same 
 t;eiiilernan's answer to Mr. Fiend's Address ; Htplder's Doctrine of the 
 divine Trinity in Unity; Fletriier's Socinianism unscriptnral ; Whit- 
 aker's Orii;ii) of Arianism disclosed; Mr. Randolph's Scriptural Revi. 
 sinn of Socinian Arg^uments; and Dr. Hawker's Sermons on tbe 
 Divinity rjf Christ. 
 
 Additional productions of an opposite kind are. An Elucidation of 
 the Unity of God, deduced from Scripture and Reason ; Cbristie'ii Dis- 
 ciiiirses on the Unity; Wakefield's Tn(|uiry into the Opinions of the 
 Christian Writers of the three First Centuries concerning the Person 
 of Cliris't; A Friendly Dialogue between a common Unitarian Chris- 
 tian and an Athanasian, beins a republication, with very considerable 
 alterations, of a tract formerly printed by Mr. Hopkins; Frend's Ad- 
 dress to the Members of the Chuich of rln;;Iaiid ; i>offt's Observations 
 on tin* First Part of Dr. Knowles's Testimonies; Clarke's Defence of 
 the Unity of (iod ; Ashdowne's Unitarian, Arian, and Trinitarian 
 Opinion^ respectinij Christ, examined and tried by Scripture Evidence 
 alone ; Mr. Edwards's Address and Vindication ; Mr. Smith's Letter to 
 a Member of the Church of r',n;:land ; Rea'ions for Unitarianism ; Dr. 
 Di'^ney's Letters t(» Dr. Knox ; Jardine's three Discourses; Mr. Por- 
 ter's Answer to Dr. Hawker ; and Mr. Hobhouse's Reply to Mr. Ran- 
 dolph. 
 
 'i'lie Miraculous ('onception of our Lord has been called in question 
 in the fourtli volume of tin- Thcolai;ical Repository, p. '245—305 ; and 
 still more fully in Dr. Priestley's History of Early Opinions concerning 
 Jesus Christ. lu vindication of the Miraculous Conception, two tractj 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 429 
 
 18, 19. Matt. xix. 17 ; that he often prays to his 
 Father ; that he declares himself to have received 
 from the Father those things for which he is most 
 eminent ; and that, throughout the whole of his 
 administration, he is described as the servant of 
 God, Isa. xlii. I ; Hi. 13 ; liii. 11. (by which some 
 have explained his taking upon him the form of a 
 servant, Phil. ii. 6.) referring all to his glory, and 
 assisting his creatures in their approaches to him ; 
 to whom he shall finally give up the kingdom, 1 
 Cor. XV. 24—29. 
 
 With regard to all these texts, it is to be observed 
 that we by no means assert (as some few have done) 
 that the human nature of Christ is absorbed in the 
 divine, which would indeed make the objection 
 unanswerable ; but acknowledging the reality and 
 perpetuity of it, we reply. That all these things 
 must be understood as being spoken by or of him 
 ag man and mediator, without a reference to that 
 nnion with God established in the preceding pro- 
 position. 
 
 Evil. Enq. ap. Tracts, vol. i. p. 8.3. Calamy on 
 Trin. Serm. iii — v. Watts's Diss. No. ii. p. 
 40 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 515. Hallet on Script. 
 vol. ii. J). 214. Dr. Scott's Ess. tow. Demonst. 
 of the Trin. Prop. vi. &c. Mosh. Hist. Eccl. 
 Seculum V. part. ii. c. v. § 22. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Dr. Clarke asserts the Logos to be something be- 
 tween a created and self-existent nature. But it is 
 diflicult to enter into the foundation of this dis- 
 tinction, unless the idea of a creature be, not a 
 thing produced out of nothing by the Divine Power, 
 but a thing produced by the Father, through the 
 agency of the Son. ; which is a very unusual sense 
 of the word. Clarke on Trin. p. ii. Prop. xiv. xvii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The doctrine of the divinity of Christ has gener- 
 ally been expressed, by saying that the human and 
 divine nature of Christ are united in one person, 
 which has generally been called the hypostatic or 
 personal union : and those were condemned as here- 
 tics in the fourth century, who either, on the one 
 hand, maintained there was but one nature, or, on 
 the other, that there were two persons in Christ. 
 It is evident that Scripture does not use this lan- 
 gnagc in what it teaches us on this head ; nor is it 
 easy to determine the idea which has been allixcd 
 to the word person, when used in this controversy. 
 It has been pleaded, tliat we may as well conceive 
 the union of the divine and human nature in one 
 person, as of the soul and body iu man : but it is 
 plain this is far from being entirely a parallel case, 
 since here arc not two conscious beings united ; and 
 
 liaye been written by Mr. Nisbett ; the first with a particnlar view to 
 l>r. 1 nestley s exceptions on the subject ; and the second in answer to 
 a private letter addressed to liim by Mr. John Pope. Mr Pope hai 
 pubhshcd a reply to Mr. Nisbett. 
 
 that God and the creature should have one and the 
 same consciousness, certainly exceeds our compre- 
 hension. It seems, therefore, that those wlio have 
 fixed any idea at all to the term person here, rather 
 mean it in a political sense, to expi-ess the concur- 
 rent operation of the Deity with the human nature 
 of Christ, in order to constitute a perfect mediator. 
 
 Dr. Waterland's definition of the word person, 
 as used in this question, is this : — " A single person 
 is an intelligent agent, having the distinct charac- 
 ters /, Thou, He, and not divided or distinguished 
 into more intelligent agents capable of the same 
 characters :" where it is proper to observe, he does 
 not say it is not divisible or distinguishable, which is 
 not here the case, but not divided or distinguished. 
 Waterl. Vind. of Christ's Divin. Q. xv. Watts's 
 Diss. ii. p. 43. Pears, on Creed, p. 161. 
 Baxt. Endof Contr. Pref.c. iii. § 5. South 
 ag. Sherl. c. iii. p. 72. Eml. Enq. c. ii. § 2. 
 ap. Tracts, vol. i. No. ii ; No. i. p. 16. Tay- 
 lor against Watts, p. 76. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It has been hotly debated, whether Christ be 
 called the only-begotten Son of God, with regard 
 merely to his being the promised Messiah, or to his 
 extraordinary conception and exaltation to his 
 kingdom as mediator ; or whether the expression 
 refers to the eternal generation of the divine nature. 
 The texts brought to prove the latter, are chielly 
 Psal. ii. 7. Prov. viii. 22, 23, 25. Micah v. 2. Heb. 
 i. 2, 3. Col. i. 15. John i. 14, 18. but others have 
 explained these texts of the production of the 
 created or derived nature of Christ, wliich, accord- 
 ing to the preceding hypothesis, was prior to the 
 creation of the world ; and with regard to some of 
 them, have attempted to prove their application to 
 Christ's Deity uncertain, and that the first of them 
 relates to his resurrection. Compare Acts xiii. 33. 
 urging that it is utterly inconceivable tiiat a nature 
 truly and properly divine should be begotten, since 
 begetting, whatever idea is annexed to it, must 
 signify some kind of derivation. 
 
 Owen on Christ's Person, p. 138. Waterland's 
 
 Vind. p. 199, &c. Ridg. Div. vol. i. p. 124. 
 
 Proced. of Undersl. p. 302. Dr. Burn's 
 
 Doct. of Trin. p. 104. Watts's Impor. Quest. 
 
 p. 45 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 647. 
 
 LECTURE CLX. 
 
 LEMMA TO PROPOSITION CXXIX. 
 It is evident that frequent mention is made of the 
 Holy Spikit in liic New Testament, a.^ an agent 
 of great importance in carrying on the Christian 
 cause. 
 
430 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXIX. 
 
 To enumerate the i)riucipal of those Scriptures, 
 in ■Hiiicli divine names, titles, attributes, works, or 
 worship, are, or seem to be, ascribed to the Holy 
 Sim KIT. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Many plead that tlie Holy Spirit is called Je- 
 hovah in the Old Testament, by comparing Acts 
 xxviii. 25. ■with Isa. vi. 9. and Heb. iii. 7 — 9. with 
 Exod. xvii. 7. Jer. xxxi. 31 — 34. with Heb. x. 15, 
 16. That he is called Gorl, Acts v. 4. seems proba- 
 ble ; to which some add 1 Cor. iii. 16; vi. 19. 2 
 Cor. iii. 17. 
 
 2. Divine perfections arc certainly ascribed to 
 the Spirit of God, — particularly Omniscience, 1 Cor. 
 ii. 10, 11. Isa. xl. 13, 14. to which some add 1 John 
 ii. 20; Omnipresence, Psal. cxxxix. 7. Epb. ii. 17, 
 18. Rom. viii. 26, 27; Omnipotence, Luke i. 35. 
 1 Cor. xii. 11 ; Eternity, Heb. ix. 14. 
 
 3. Divine works are evidently ascribed to the 
 Spirit ; Gen. i. 2. Job xxvi. 13 ; xxxiii. 4. and 
 Psal. xxxiii. 6 ; civ. 30. et sini. Some likewise 
 add those texts in which miracles, inspiration, and 
 saving operations upon the heartof man, are ascribed 
 to the Spirit. 
 
 4. The chief texts produced to prove that divine 
 worship is given to the Spirit, are Isa. vi. 3. com- 
 pared with ver. 9. and Acts xxviii. 25, Sec. Rom. 
 ix. 1. Rev. i. 4. 2 Cor. xiii. 14. and above all, Matt. 
 Axviii. 19. 
 
 Calam. on Trin. Serm. vi. Eml. Tracts, vol. ii. 
 p. 255. Burn, on Art. p. 38. Watts on 
 Trin. Diss. v. § 2 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 597. 
 Chris. Doct. Trin. p. 85 ; Works, ib. p. 442. 
 Barrow's Works, vol. ii. p. 367. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 The blessed Spirit is spoken of in such a man- 
 ner as we cannot imagine would be used in speak- 
 ing of a mere creature, and consequently must be 
 possessed of a nature properly divine. 
 
 Clarke on the Trin. part i. c. iii. Taijlor on the 
 Trin. part iii. p. 477 — 517. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The chief controversy on this head is, Whether 
 the Spirit of God be a person in the philosophical 
 sense, or merely a divine power or energy. That he 
 is a person, is argued from his being described as 
 having understanding, 1 Cor. ii. 10, 11 ; willing, 1 
 Cor. xii. 11 ; speaking, and sending messengers, 
 Isa. vi. 8. compared witli Acts xxviii. 25 ; viii. 29 ; 
 X. 19, 20 ; xiii. 1 — 4. 1 Tim. iv. 1 ; yea, as Dr. Bar- 
 row interprets it, sending Christ, Isa. xlviii. 16; as 
 pleading, Rom. viii. 26 ; as being grieved, Isa. Ixiii. 
 10. Eph. iv. 30 ; as teaching and reminding, John 
 xiv. 26 ; as testifying, John xv. 26 ; as reproving, 
 John xvi. K. &c. ; as executing a conmiission re- 
 ceived from God, John xvi. 13, 14. 
 
 Owen on Spirit, 1. i. c. iii. § 9, &c. Tayl. ag. 
 Watts, p. 64. Bar. Works, vol. ii. p. 361. 
 Pears, on Cr. p. 311. Clarke on Trin. part 
 ii. § 22. Eml. Tracts, vol. ii. p. 205. Dr. 
 D. Scott's Ess. tow. Demon, of the Trin. 
 Prop. iii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Those who assert the Spirit to be a divine power, 
 plead chielly the sense of the word in the Old Tes- 
 tament ; where they say it generally has that signi- 
 fication ; and that it would be absurd to suppose 
 that the idea should be so greatly clianged, when 
 Christ and his apostles addressed those who had 
 been bred up in the Jewish religion, and must there- 
 fore have been used to conceive of the Spirit accord- 
 ing to the representation made in their sacred oracles. 
 
 It is also pleaded, that the pourinr/ out one per- 
 son on another, is both unscriptural and unintelli- 
 gible language ; but not so, if it relates to a divine 
 power, influence, or operation. They urge in favour 
 of this explication of the doctrine, Luke i. 35. and 
 reply to the Scriptures urged above, by observing, 
 that nothing was more common among the ancients, 
 and especially the eastern nations, than to represent 
 powers, properties, and attributes, by personal cha- 
 racters : thus wisdom is represented as contriving, 
 rejoicing, inviting, pleading, reprpving, &c. ; Prov. 
 i. 20, &e. ; iii. 13, &c, ; iv. 6, &c. ; viii. 1 ; ix. 1, 8tc. ; 
 charity, as believing, rejoicing, &c. 1 Cor. xiii. ; 
 and death, as being plagued, Hos. xiii. 14 ; the 
 Scripture, as foreseeing and preaching. Gal. iii. 8 ; 
 the sun, as rejoicing, Psal. xix. 5 ; a famine, as 
 coming at God's call, 2 Kings viii. 1 ; righteousness, 
 as walking before him. Compare Psal. Ixxxv. 10 
 — 13; and the wind, as willing, John iii. 8. But 
 it is answered. That none of these come up to the 
 preceding texts ; especially considering how fre- 
 quently the personal term stoq is used, when spoken 
 of the Spirit, and that not in poetical, but in the 
 most plain and simple, discourses : but the strongest 
 objection against this opinion arises from the form 
 of baptism, and the forcmentioncd John xvi. 13, 14. 
 Wutts's Diss. V. § 4. p. 144 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 
 605. * 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Among those who grant the Spirit to be a person, 
 it is debated whether he be the same philosophical 
 person with the Father, or another distinct from 
 him. To suppose the latter (supposing him at the 
 same time equal with the Father) is making him 
 another God. Some therefore have represented him 
 as a created spirit, in his own nature inferior both 
 to Fatiier and Son ; against which the passages 
 enumerated in the preceding proposition have been 
 
 * A lar^e di'icussion of this subject, maintaining a doctrine contrary 
 to that of the ti xt, may be seen iii Dr. Larilrier's first postscript to his 
 letter on tlie Losos, containing an exphralioii of those words, THB 
 Spirit, The Holy Spirit, and The Spirit of God, as u.sed in 
 tlie Scriptures. Works, vol. xi. p. I26-I7IJ. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 431 
 
 strongly urged; as it has also been, that the Spirit 
 is never mentioned as a creature called upon to 
 praise God, when a large enumeration of such is 
 made. Others consider him as a created Spirit 
 (called, as one thinks, Michael the Archangel) 
 so united to God, and so acted by him, as by virtue 
 of that union to become capable of such representa- 
 tions and regards as the Son is, though acting in 
 some subordination to him in the economy of our 
 redemption ; while many others have contented 
 themselves with asserting that there is only a 
 political, modal, or economical distinction, in the 
 personality of Father, Son, and Spirit. Others again 
 have maintained that the Spirit is a third distinc- 
 tion in the Deity ; and when he is called a person, 
 the word is to be taken in a sense below the philo- 
 sophical and above the modal ; though what deter- 
 minate idea is to be affixed to it, they do not more 
 particularly say. 
 
 Bar. Works, vol. ii. p. 368. T. Burn. Doct. 
 
 Trin. p. 68. Clarke on Trin. part ii. § 3, 19. 
 
 Dr. D. Scott's Essay tow. Demonst. of the 
 
 Trinity, Prop. vii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Divines have commonly taught, that the Holy 
 Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son : and 
 the Popish schoolmen introduce the phrase of 
 spiration, to signify the manner in which his per- 
 sonality was derived from them. He is indeed said 
 to come or to be sent forth from the Father, John 
 XV. 26. and Christ often promises that he would 
 send him ; but for that notion of his spiration, men- 
 tioned above, it cannot be explained, and therefore 
 cannot be defended. 
 
 Wutts's Diss. p. 155; ib. p. 166; Works, vol. 
 
 vi. p. 60y. T. Burn, on Trin. p. 118. Mosh. 
 
 Hist. Eccles. Le Seculum viii. part ii. c. iii. 
 
 § ult. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 5. 
 
 On the whole, forasmuch as the Spirit is plainly 
 spoken of in Scripture under a personal character, 
 it is proper to retain that language in discoursing of 
 him and praying for him, even though we should 
 not be able certainly to determine in our own minds 
 as to the nicety of some of those questions which 
 have been touched upon in the preceding scholia. 
 
 Clarke on Trin. part ii. § .53, .'54. 
 
 LECTURE CLXI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXX. 
 The Scripture represents the Divine Being as 
 appearing in, and manifesting himself by, the dis- 
 tinct persons of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; 
 each of whom has his peculiar province in accom- 
 
 plishing the work of our redemption and salvation, 
 and to each of whom we owe an unlimited venera- 
 tion, love, and obedience. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. That God appears under the character of 
 Fatker in Scripture, i. e. the Father of Christ, and 
 through him the Father of all his people, is so clear 
 from the whole tenor of the New Testament, that it 
 would be superfluous to enumerate particular texts 
 in proof of it. — John xx. 17. 2 Cor. i. 3. 
 
 Prop. 127. Cor. 2. The Scripture represents the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, as a divine 
 person, in whom the fulness of the Godhead dwelt, 
 by whom the Father manifested himself to us, and 
 who, with the Father, is God over all. 
 
 Prop. 129. Cor. 3. The Scripture also represents 
 the Holy Spirit as a divine person, possessed of 
 those attributes and perfections which are to be 
 found in God alone. 
 
 4. There are various texts of Scripture, in which 
 Father, Son, and Spirit are mentioned together, and 
 represented under distinct personal characters ; v. g. 
 Matt, xxviii. 19 ; iii. 16, 17. 1 Cor. xii.4— 6. 2 Cor. 
 xiii. ult. Eph. iv. 4 — 6. Heb. ix. 14. to which some 
 add Rev. i. 4, 5. As for 1 John v. 7. the authority 
 of it is contested ; nor is the importance of it so 
 very great as some have imagined, since it does not 
 exactly determine in what respects the tkree there 
 spoken of are one. Vid. Cah. in Loc. et Instit. 1. i. 
 c. xiii. § 5, 6. 
 
 5. It is every where represented in Scripture, that 
 our redemption was contrived by the Father, pur- 
 chased by the Son, and is applied by the Spirit, 
 through whose assistance, in the name of Christ, we 
 are to make our approaches to the Father, Eph. i. 
 3, 4. Tit. iii. 4—7. Rom. xv. 16. Eph. ii. 18. 
 
 5. 6. Hence it appears that correspondent re- 
 gards are due to each, which are accordingly re- 
 quired in many passages of Scripture, John v. 23. 
 1 Cor. xvi. 22. Eph. iv. 30. 
 1 — 6. 7. Valet propositio. 
 
 Berry-St. Lec. vol. i. p. 94. Butl. Anal. p. 153. 
 Whit. Last Thoughts, pass. Dr. D. Scott's 
 Demonst. of the Script. Trin. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 If it be asked. How these divine persons are three, 
 and how one ? — it must be acknowledged an inex- 
 plicable mystery : nor should we wonder that we are 
 much confounded when inquiring into the curiosi- 
 ties of such questions, if we consider how little wc 
 know of our own nature and manner of existence. 
 Vid. Prop. 18. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 If it be inquired. In what sense the word person 
 is used in the proposition ? wc answer, It must at 
 least be true in a political sense, yet cannot amount 
 to so much as a philosophical personality, unless we 
 
432 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 allow n pinrnlity of Gods: and if tlicrc be any 
 inediiini l)t>l\voon Ihese, (wliicli we cannot certainly 
 say tliere is not,) wc must confess it to be to us 
 unsearchable ; and the higher our notions of distinct 
 personality are carried, the more diflicult does it 
 appear to our feeble reason to clear up tlic Supreme 
 Divinity of each,— and vice versa. 
 
 yy'atts's Diss. No. vi, ; Works, vol. vi. p. GI9. 
 SCllOMl'M 3. 
 
 We must acknowledsje tliat Scripture seems some- 
 times to neglect this distinction of persons ; and 
 God dwellivg in Christ, is sometimes called the 
 Fdtlier, and sometimes the Hohj Spirit. Vid. 
 John xiv. 9, 10. Matt. xii. 28. John i. 32. Ileb. ix. 
 14. 1 Pet. iii. 18. Acts x. 38. 
 
 Watts's Usef. Q. No. iv. v. p. 130; Works, 
 vol. vi. p, 696. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 From several texts above quoted, compared with 
 some others, (viz. Isa. Ixi. 1, 2. John iii. 34. Acts x. 
 38. Matt. xii. 28. Heb. ix. 14. Rom. i. 4 ; viii. 11.) 
 in which Clirist is spoken of as qualified for his 
 work by the descent of the Spirit upon him, and its 
 indwellinf^ in him, an argument has been deduced 
 in proof of the Deity of the Spirit; which is also 
 hinted at by Dr. Barrow. 
 
 Barrow's Works, vol. ii. p. 367. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 As to the celebrated controversy concerning the 
 genuineness of 1 John v. 7. a view of the most con- 
 siderable arguments on both sides may be seen in 
 Eml. Tracts, vol. ii. No. i. New Trans, of N. 
 
 Test. vol. ii. p. 921. Twells's Exam, part ii. 
 
 Mart. Diss, in Loc. Cal. Serm. in Loc. 
 
 No. i— iii. Ab. Tnyl. on Trin. p. 31. 3IiU.s's 
 
 Gr. Test, in Loc. Cypr. Epist. p. 203 ; 
 
 Tract, p. 109. Sir. I. Newt. 2 Let. to Le 
 
 Clrrc. Sens. Diss. Par. and Not. on Epist. 
 
 vol. ii. p. 631. Bengel. on var. Read, of the 
 
 N. Test.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Some have supposed that the plurality of persons 
 in the Deity is every where intimated in the Old 
 Testament, by the use of the plural d'hSn to sig- 
 nify the one living and true God. (Which word, by 
 the way, Mr. Hutchinson and his followers would 
 read Eluhim, or Alcim, as supposing it refers to 
 
 ^ Tills controversy, wliicli liail lon^ lain dormant, lias lately been 
 revived liy Mr. Arclidcacnn Travis, in liis Letters to Edw. Ciitjlion, 
 Esq. in wliirli he strenuonsly maintains tlie aiitlieiitieily of the text in 
 question. Some strictures upon this work are inserted in the Com- 
 mentaries and lissays published by the Society for promotinj? the 
 Knowledge of the Scriptures, under the title of A Gleaning of Remarks 
 on Mr. Travis's Attempt to revive the explodeil Text of 1 John, chap. 
 V. ver. 7. vol. i. p. 511— .'j.'ia. Sec also p. l.TS— 147. in the .samevidume. 
 But the most elaborate and learned answer to Archdeacon Travis is that 
 which is contained in Mr. Porson s Li lters to that ceiilleiiian concern- 
 ing the Three Heavenly VVitnesves Michaeli«, in his Introduction to 
 the New Testament, embraces every occasion of asserting and showing 
 that the Text is not genuine; and it is will known that Wetstein and 
 Griesbach have maintained the same opinion. We find, however, while 
 this note is writing, that Mr. Travis is a^ain upon the point of appear- 
 ini; in the controversy, in a third edition of his Letters to Mr. Gibbon. 
 
 the oath, or covenant, into which fliey have entered 
 with each other and the cliurcli.) To confirm this 
 opinion, it i.s further argued, that plural verbs (Gen. 
 XX. 13; xxxv. 7.) and plural adjectives (Jer. xxiii. 
 36. compare Deut. xxxii. 17.) are sometimes joined 
 with it. 
 
 Ridl. at Moyer's Lec. Ser. ii. p. 74. Forbes's 
 Tk. on Rel. p. 134. Forbes's Let. to a. Bp. 
 p. 40. Sharp's Diss, on the word Elohim.-f 
 
 LECTURE CLXII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXXI. 
 To inquire into the opinions of the most ancient 
 Christian writers concerning the doctrine of the 
 Trinity. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 For a more particular solution we choose to refer 
 to Bull, in his Defensio Fidci Nicena, Waterland, 
 Clarke, and Jackson ; especially the notes of the 
 latter on Novatian, which contain an enumeration 
 of all the most important passages which arc urged 
 from them on any side of the controversy. The 
 chief passages from the writers of the tivo first cen- 
 turies may be seen in the fourth volume of Whis- 
 ton's Primitive Christianity : a particular account 
 of what each has said would take up a dispropor- 
 tionate room here ; we must therefore content our- 
 selves with the following general remarks : — 
 
 1. Most of these writers speak of Christ and of 
 the Holy Spirit as distinct persons in the philo- 
 sophical sense of the word, and as the objects of the 
 worship of Christians. 
 
 2. Before the Council of Nice, they generally 
 spoke of the Son as having had a glorious nature 
 pre-existent to his incarnation : they represented 
 him as derived from the Father, and nevertheless 
 so partaking of the Father's nature, as to be called 
 God of God, Light of light ; and they illustrate this 
 in general by the simile of one taper being kindled 
 by another, and of rays proceeding from the sun : 
 this after the Council of Nice was explained by the 
 word dfiouaiov ; and it was reckoned heretical to say 
 that the Son was bjxoiHaiov. 
 
 + Some of the publications in sumiort of Mr. Hutchinson's theo- 
 loiiiral princi|)les, arc Remarks on T)r. Sharp's Pieces on the words 
 Eluhim and Bei ilh, by the Rev. Beiij Holloway ; The Evidence for 
 riwislianity conlaiiied in the Hebrew Words Aleim and HebiT, 
 stated and defended, by the Rev. James Moody ; A Re|ily to Dr. 
 Sli.trp's Review and Defence of his Dissertations on the Scripture 
 IMeaning of ylh im and BtUIi, by Julius Bate, A. M. ; A .second part 
 by the sanieaulbor; and Strictures upon some Passages in Dr. Sharp's 
 Cherubim, by the author of Elihu. Dr. Thomas Sharp's writings, in 
 opposition to Mr. Hutchinson and his followers were, besides his Two 
 l)is.sertations concerning the Etymolo;;y and Scripture Meaning of the 
 Hebrew words FMihim and lierith, referred to in the text; A Review 
 and Defence of the two Dissertations; a second part of the Review and 
 Defence; and Mr. Hutchinson's Exposition of Cherubim, and his 
 Hypothesis concerning them examined. The philosophy of Mr. 
 Hutchinson has found advocates in Dr. Home, Mr. Julius Bute, Mr. 
 Spearman, and the Rev. William Jones. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 433 
 
 3. They, about the time of that council, counted 
 those to be heretics, who asserted the Son to have 
 been produced i^ovic 6vr<i)v, or who reckoned him in 
 the number of creatures. 
 
 4. This doctrine is only touched upon by the 
 earliest fathers in an incidental manner : Origen 
 and Tertullian treated most largely of it ; and 
 Novatian is the only writer of the three first cen- 
 turies, whose entire treatise on this subject is come 
 down to us. 
 
 5. It must be acknowledged that several of the 
 fathers talked in a very loose and sometimes a very 
 inconsistent manner ; and several of them used 
 expressions which, after the Council of Nice, would 
 have been condemned as heretical. 
 
 6. After the time of this celebrated council, which 
 was near the beginning of the fourth century, they 
 ran into several subtilties of expression, in which 
 one would imagine they studied rather to conceal 
 than to explain their sentiments ; yet they grew so 
 warm upon the subject, as to anathematize, oppose, 
 and murder each other on account of some of those 
 unscriptural phrases, much to the dishonour of their 
 common profession. 
 
 Chandler's Hist, of Pcrs. p. 39, &c.* 
 
 7. Most of the oldest Post-Nicene fathers carried 
 their notion of the distinct personality and Supreme 
 Divinity to a very great height ; and seemed to have 
 imagined they sufficiently supported the unity of 
 the Godhead, by asserting that Father, Son, and 
 Spirit had each of them the same divine, as three or 
 more tneti have each of them the same human, nature. 
 
 Le Clerc's Life of Grey. Naz. p. 249. Dr. T. 
 Burnet on the Trin. p. 135. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M. 
 
 The subject of this proposition may receive some 
 further illustration by mentioning some of the most 
 considerable of those opinions, which were generally 
 accounted heretical by the ancient Christians. 
 
 1. That of the Cerinthians, Ebionites, and Car- 
 ipocratians, — who seem to have asserted that Christ 
 was a mere man, and had no existence before his 
 incarnation. This is the same doctrine which was 
 revived in the fourth century by Photinus, as it liad 
 been before by Paulus Samosatenus. 
 
 2. The Arians, who held him to be only the first 
 and most glorious creature of God, denying he had 
 any thing which could properly be called a divine 
 nature, any otherwise than as any thing very ex- 
 cellent, may by a figure be called divine, or his 
 delegated dominion over the system of nature might 
 entitle him to the name of God: and they seem also 
 fo have thought, that the Spirit was another di.stinct 
 inferior being, created by the Son ; but they did 
 not employ them.selves much in this part of the 
 
 • An ample disciiwion of this subject will be found in ibe authors 
 referred to iri the note anni xed to the demonstration of the hundred and 
 Iwcoty. eighth propositioD. 
 
 2 F 
 
 controversy. This is a heresy which most largely 
 prevailed, and iu some places and times seems to 
 have almost entirely swallowed up what is com- 
 monly called the orthodox or catholic faith. 
 
 3. That of Nestorius, who asserted there were 
 tiLo persons in Christ, as well as two natures ; to 
 which was directly opposed that of Eutyches, who 
 asserted but one nature, as well as one person, 
 teaching that the human nature was absorbed in the 
 divine : and these different extremes occasioned the 
 most violent agitations in the disordered churches 
 during the fifth and sixth centuries. 
 
 4. That of Macedonius, who denied the Holy 
 Spirit to have any proper divine substance, and re- 
 presents him only as a created power, which was 
 diffused over all other creatures. 
 
 5. That of Sabellius, who taught that the Father, 
 Son, and Spirit were only jiames and offices of tlie 
 same person, who was in heaven called the Father, 
 on earth the Son, and, as exerting his power on the 
 creation, the Holy Spirit. 
 
 For the most ancient account of these, consult 
 Eusebius, Sozomen, and Theodoret, in their Eccle- 
 siastical History, and also Bayle's or Collier's 
 Dictionaries, under their names. Many of the most 
 material passages are collected and exhibited by 
 Dr. Berriman and Dr. Ab. Taylor in their treatises 
 on the Trinity, f 
 
 LECTURE CXXIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXXII. 
 To give a brief account of some of the most cele- 
 brated of the opinions among the moderns, concern- 
 ing the doctrine of the Trinity, especially of the 
 English writers. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Mr. Baxter seems, as some of the schoolmen 
 did, to have thought tiie three divine persons to be 
 one and the same God, understanding, williny, and 
 beloved by himself; or wisdom, power, and love ; 
 which he thinks illustrated by the three essential 
 primalities (as he calls them) in the soul of man, 
 viz. vital active power, intellect, and rvill ; and in 
 the sun, motion, liyht, and heat. 
 
 Baxt. End of Contr. c. ii. Baxt. Works, vol. 
 ii. p. 130 — 132 ; ib. vol. iii. p. .568. 
 
 2. Dr. Clarke's scheme is, that there is one Su- 
 preme Being, who is the Father, and two subor- 
 dinate, derived, and dependent beings : but he 
 waves calling Christ a creature, as the ancient 
 
 + For an accurate and impartial account of lliese several opinions, 
 recourse may lie bad to Moilieim'a Conimentarii de Uebns Chrisliani«, 
 and to his In>titutioni s Hist. Ecdesiast. See also Dr. IMacluinc'8 
 Trauslatiou of the latter work, vol. i. of the octavo edition. 
 
434 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 .Viiniis dill, and principally on that foundation 
 ilisolainis tlie c-ltarj;o of Arianism. 
 
 Clarke on ihc Trin. part ii. Prop. 7, &c. 
 
 3. Dr. Thomas Burnet maintains one self-existent 
 and two dependent beings; but asserts, tliat the 
 two latter are so united to and inhabited by the 
 former, that by virtue of that union, divine per- 
 fections may be ascribed, and divine worship paid 
 to them. Burnet's Script. Doct. p. 173. 
 
 4. Mr. Howe seems to suppose that tlicrc are 
 three distinct eternal Spirits, or distinct intelligent 
 hypostases, each having his own distinct, singular, 
 intelligent nature, united in such an inexplicable 
 manner, as that upon account of their perfect har- 
 mony, consent, and affection, to which he adds 
 their mutual self-consciousness, they may be called 
 t/ie one God, as properly as the different corporeal, 
 sensitive, and intellectual natures united may be 
 called one man. Howe's Works, vol. ii. p. 560. 
 
 5. Dr. Waterland, Dr. Ab. Taylor, with the rest 
 of the Athauasians, assert three jjropcr distinct per- 
 sons, entirely equal to and in(lci)endent upon each 
 other, yet making up one and the same being ; and 
 that though there may appear many things inex- 
 plicable in the scheme, it is to be charged to the 
 vreakness of our understanding, and not to the 
 absurdity of the doctrine itself. 
 
 Tayl. on Trin. part i. c. i. Waterl. Viml. and 
 Serm . 
 
 6. Bishop Pearson, with whom Bishop Bull also 
 agrees, is of opinion, that though God the Father is 
 the fountain of the Deity, the wliole divine nature 
 is communicated from tlie Father to the Son, and 
 from both to the Spirit ; yet so as that the Father 
 and Son are not separate, nor separable from the 
 Divinity, but do still exist in it, and are most inti- 
 mately united to it. This was likewise Dr. Owen's 
 scheme. 
 
 Bull's Serm. vol. iii. p. 829. Given on the Heh. 
 i. 3. p. 53. Pears, on the Creed, p. 134, &c. 
 
 7. Dr. Wallis thought that the distinction betw ecn 
 the three persons was only tnodal ; which seems 
 also to have been Archbishop Tillotson's opinion. 
 
 Wallis's Letter oh the Trinity. Tillotson, vol. 
 i. p. 492 — 194. 
 
 8. Dr. Watts maintained one supreme God dw cll- 
 ing in the human nature of Christ, which he sup- 
 poses to have existed the first of all creatures ; 
 and speaks of the divine Logos as the wisdom of 
 God, and the Holy Spirit as the divine power, or 
 the influence and ctfect of it; which he says is a 
 Scriptural person, i. e. spoken of figuratively in 
 Scripture under personal characters. 
 
 Walts's Diss. No. vii. ; Works, vol. vi. p. 
 
 000—039. Flem. Christol. vol. i. I. ii. c. v. 
 p. 188. 
 
 9. Dr. .Icremiah Taylor says, " That he who goes 
 about to speak of the mystery of the Trinity, and ■ 
 does it by words and names of man's invention, 
 talking of essences and existences, hypostases and 
 personalities, priorities in co-equalities, &c. and 
 unity in pluralities, may amuse himself, and build 
 a tabernacle in his li(>ad, and talk something he 
 knows not what ; but tlie good man, that feels the 
 power of the Father, and to whom the Son is become 
 wisdom, sanctitication, and redemption, in whose 
 heart the love of the Spirit of God is shed abroad, 
 this man, though he understands nothing of what is 
 unintelligible, yet he alone truly understands the 
 Christian doctrine of the Trinity." 
 
 Jer. Tayl. on John vii. 17. ap. Besse's Def. of 
 Quakerism, § 8. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Considering the excellent character of many of 
 the persons above mentioned, whose opinons were 
 most w idely different, we may assure ourselves, that 
 many things asserted on the one side and on the 
 other relating to the Trinity, are not fundamental 
 in religion. See Mr. Simon Browne's Sober and 
 charitable Disquisition concerning the Importance of 
 the Trinity. 
 
 Watts's Works, vol. vi. p. 715 ; ibid. p. 730. 
 Fawc. Cand. Refl. on the Doct. of the Trinity. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 We may hence learn to be cautious how we enter 
 into unscriptural niceties in expressing our own 
 conceptions of this doctrine, which is by all allowed 
 to be so sublime and so peculiar to revelation. 
 
 Flem. Christol. vol. i. p. 187—191. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Some traces of this doctrine are supposed by 
 many in the writings of Plato, and yet more probably 
 in those of Philo the Jew, and in some of the Tar- 
 gums. See the references to Prop. 120. Schol. 3. 
 Kidder on Mess, part iii. e. v. vi. p. 92. Flem. 
 Christol. vol. i. 1. ii. c. i. p. 130. Tenn. on 
 Idol. c. V. p. 77. Cudw. Intel. Syst. c. iv. 
 § 30, &c. p. 540, &c.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Many have supposed there are some traces of this 
 doctrine imprinted on all the works of God. 
 
 Baxl. Works, vol. ii. p. 14. Cheyne's Phil. 
 Prin. of Rev. Rel. part ii. Prop. 17. Cor. 4. 
 Sch. 2. Collib. of Rev. Rel. p. 99. 
 
 * On this subject reference m:iy af^ain he made to tlic works before 
 mentioned ; to wliich may be added Ibree articles of tlie ** Theological 
 Uepository." The tirst relates to I'lato, the second to the later Plato- 
 nists, and the third to the I'latonism of Philo. See the fourth volume 
 of the Repository, p. 77-97; ibid. p. 381—420. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 435 
 
 PART VIII. 
 
 OF THE FALL OF HUMAN NATURE, AND OUR RECOVERY BY THE 
 MEDIATORIAL UNDERTAKING OF THE LORD JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 LECTURE CLXIV. 
 
 PROPOSITION cxxxm. 
 Mankind is at present in a degenerate state ; and 
 there is reason to believe that there never has been, 
 since the transgression of Adam, and never will be 
 among his adult descendants, a sinless mortal on 
 earth, Christ excepted. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Our own observation on ourselves, and those 
 adult persons with whom we are conversant, may 
 convince us that the philosophical liberty of our 
 minds and theirs is in some considerable degree 
 impaired {Prop. 17.) ; and so far as the most credi- 
 ble history of all nations can inform us, this seems 
 to have been a universal phenomenon. — See Prop. 
 89. and Schol. 
 
 2. There are many passages in Scripture which 
 assert, not only that this was in fact the case with 
 regard to those generations in which the authors 
 lived, — but some of them plainly intimate that it 
 always had been, and was likely to continue so : 
 Gen. vi. -5. compared with viii. 21. 2 Chron. vi. 30. 
 Psal. xix. 12 ; cxxx. 3. cxliii. 2. Prov. xx. 19. 
 Eccles. vii. 20. Rom. vii. 14, &c. Gal. iii. 22; v. 
 17, 24. Eph. ii. 1—3. Tit. iii. 2—7. James iii. 2. 
 John i. 8. to which we may add all those texts that 
 assert the necessity of regeneration, and of mortifi- 
 cation, and which speak of the sinful principle as 
 the old man, Rom. vi. fi. Eph. iv. 22 — 24. Col. iii. 9. 
 and indeed the whole of the apostle's argument in 
 the beginning of the epistles to the Romans and 
 Galatians, as well as all those other texts that are 
 afterwards to be produced, to prove the universal 
 necessitj' of believing in Christ for salvation, are 
 conclusive to the same purpose ; because they sup- 
 pose mankind to be in a state of death and ruin, 
 brought upon them by sin. Compare John iii. 16, 
 36 ; V. 24. 1 John iii. 14. Mark xvi. l.'j, 16. Luke 
 xxiv. 47. and especially Rom. iii. 9 — 20. in which 
 
 I the apostle seems exj)ressly to assert that the pas- 
 ) .sages there quoted from the Old Testament contain 
 a just representation of what is in general the moral 
 bharacter of mankind ; and to this last argument 
 John seems evidently to refer. 1 John i. 10. 
 
 3. Many of these evil inclinations begin to work 
 very early, and appear even in children from the 
 
 2 F 2 
 
 first dawn of reason. Compare Psal. Iviii. 3. Isaiah 
 xlviii. 8. Prov. xxii. 15. 
 
 1. 2, 3. 4. Mankind is at present in a very cor- 
 rupt and sinful state. 
 
 6. It seems, in the nature of things, very impro- 
 bable that so holy and good a God should have 
 formed mankind in the original constitution of their 
 nature in so corrupt and sinful a state. 
 
 Prop. 89. Cor. 3. 109. gr. 3. 6. There has pre- 
 vailed among many nations a tradition, that man- 
 kind was once in a much more holy and happy 
 state. 
 
 7. There arc various passages of Scripture, be- 
 sides the Mosaic History of the Fall, which plainly 
 intimate that mankind was once in a better state ; 
 but that now a corrupted nature is derived from 
 one generation to another. Eccles. vii. 29. compare 
 Gen. i. 31 > v. 1,3. Job xi. 12; xiv. 4; xxv. 4. 
 Psal. li. 5. Ezek. xxxvi. 26. John iii. 5. compare 
 viii. 7. 
 
 4, 5, 6, 7. 8. Mankind is in a state of degener- 
 acy, in which the original rectitude and glory of 
 the human nature is in a great measure lost. 
 
 9. That Christ is not comjjrchendcd in this asser- 
 tion, appears from Prop. 113. gr. 5. 
 8,9. 10. Valet proposi tin. 
 
 Limh. Theol. lib. iii. c. iv. § 1, 2. Turret. Jnst. 
 vol. i. Loe. ix. Q. x. p. 694. Tayl. Orig. 
 Sin. p. 100, &c. Jen. Ans. pass. Edw. 
 Orig. Sin, i. 51. 8. 2. ii. iii. Chandl. Posth. 
 Serm. vol. iv. No. vi. part 1. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Against that part of gr. 7. which relates to the 
 propagation of a corrupt nature from one generation 
 to another, it is objected.. That the phenomenon of 
 universal corruption in all the adult may be 
 accounted for another way, i. e. by ascribing it 
 entirely to imitation. 
 
 Ans. 1. The Scriptures quoted there, seem evi- 
 dently to place it higher. 
 
 2. There often appear in children propensities 
 towards those vices, of which they have seen no 
 examples. 
 
 3. There are many examples of eminent virtue in 
 the world, which yet are not so frequently or easily 
 imitated as those of a vicious nature ; which plainly 
 shows a bias on the mind towards vice. 
 
 4. In consequence of this, those who have mo.st 
 
436 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 carefully sludii-d liiiiuaii nature, even amoiifi the 
 Pagans, have aeknow letlged (and tliat in very strong- 
 terms) an inward <lej)ravation and corruption, add- 
 ing a disproportionate force to evil examples, and 
 rendering the mind averse to good. 
 
 Watts'x Ruin ami Rec. p. 37 ; Works, vol. vi. 
 
 p. 200. Howe's Liv. Temp, part ii. c. iv. § 4 
 
 — 6. ap. Op. vol. i. p. 147. Ritl. on Sp. p. 1G9. 
 
 Watts's Cont. betw. Flesh and Sp. Tuyl. 
 
 Scrip. Doct. of Oriij. Sin, p. 190. Edw. ib. 
 
 p. 131. 
 
 SCllOLIl'M 2. 
 
 It is objected. That a propensity to sensual en- 
 joyments i.s the inseparable consequence of our 
 existence in a body, and of the weakness of reason 
 in our infant state, when the sensitive and passion- 
 ate powers are so strong. 
 
 Alls. 1. This propensity is not merely in propor- 
 tion to tiie degree requisite for the good either of the 
 individual or the species, and consequently is itself 
 (so far as it prevails) the very corruption of our 
 nature of which we speak. 
 
 2. That the degrees of goodness observable in the 
 natural tempers of some children, may evidently 
 convince us that it would have been very possible 
 for the human constitution to have been so adjusted, 
 that from the beginning the temptations to sin 
 should have been much smaller than they generally 
 are. 
 
 Tai/l. Scrip. Dor. p. 224 ; Sup. p. 50. Edw. on 
 driy. Sin, p. 139. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is further objected. That it is inconsistent with 
 the goodness, and even the justice, of God, to form 
 creatures with evil propensities, and afterwards to 
 leave them to condemnation and ruin in conse- 
 quence of tiiein ; and it is also said to be inconsist- 
 ent with his holiness, to make a creature corrupt in 
 its first original. 
 
 Ans. 1. The dilTiculty is considerably lessened, if 
 we suppose that things are so constituted upon the 
 whole, as that a man is not necessarily impelled to 
 any irregular actions which shall end in his linal 
 destruction. 
 
 2. What remains of the difliculty, after such a 
 solution, is that which arises from the observation 
 of plain facts, and not peculiar to the Christian 
 scheme ; nor is it at all increased, by supposing that 
 man was once in a better state ; but, on the contrary, 
 rather much diminished. 
 
 Taylor's Supplement, § 4. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 As to the manner in which this hereditary corrup- 
 tion of our nature is conveyed, we acknowledge we 
 cannot particularly explain it ; but it seems ex- 
 ceedingly probable that it may result from the con- 
 stitution of the body, and the dependence of the 
 mind upon it, Prop. 3. 
 
 Lime-st. Lect. vol. i. p. 304. Watts's Ruin 
 and Rec. p. 145; Works, vol. vi. p. 24. 
 Turret. Inst. Loc. ix. Q. xii. vol. i. p. 70G. 
 Bahjuy's Tracts, p. 286. Tayl. Script. Doc. 
 p. 184. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Those passages of Scripture in which infants are 
 said to be innocent, have been thought by some 
 an objection against the proposition ; v. y. Dent, 
 i. 39. Jonah iv. 11. I Cor. xiv. 20. Matt, xviii. 
 3, 4. but this objection can only lie against that 
 manner of expressing and stating the doctrine, 
 which represents this corruption of nature as, pro- 
 perly speaking, a sin. Now, as to this part of the 
 controversy, it is evidently to he determined by the 
 manner in which sin is defined ; if it signify, as it 
 commonly does, " An action contrary to the divine 
 law," these evil propensities are not sins, but rather 
 the root whence sin proceeds ; if it be defined " A 
 want of conformity to God's law," as well as a trans- 
 gression of it, they must be allowed sinful ; but if 
 sin be taken in a more indeterminate sense, for any 
 thing which God will or might punish with final 
 misery, — the question must be considered in a 
 further extent, and is referred to the scholia of the 
 following proposition. 
 
 Limb. Tluol. lib. iii. c. iv. § 3— 11. p. 20. Tayl. 
 Sup. to Oriy. Sin, § vii. Liyhtf. Works, \o\. 
 ii. p. 5G9. Hor. Heb. on John ix. 2. Watts's 
 Ruin and Rec. p. 41 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 202. 
 
 LECTURE CLXV. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXXIV. 
 To inquire into the account which is given in 
 Scripture of the Fall of our first parents. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. It is evident that they were created free from 
 sin and from vicious inclinations, Gen. i. 31. Eccles. 
 vii. 29. there is reason also to believe that the 
 natural capacities of Adam's mind were good, and 
 his genius at least equal to that which is to be found 
 in any of his descendants ; as well as that his bodily 
 form was regular and beautiful, and his constitu- 
 tion so framed as to contain no principles of dis- 
 temper ; but perhaps some have carried the matter 
 too high, in the representation they have given of 
 the vast strength of his understanding, and the 
 strong bias there was upon his will towards the 
 choice of virtue and obedience. 
 
 Berry-Str. Lect. vol. i. p. 180. South's Serm. 
 vol. i. p. 124. Tayl. Syst. Div. part iii. 
 Svppl. on Oriy. Sin, c. viii. 
 
 2. God forbade to our first parents the eating the 
 fruit of some certain tree, (the kind of which is now 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 487 
 
 unknown, and perhaps the whole species destroyed,) 
 on the penalty of death ; which must at least com- 
 prehend the loss of that happy state in which they 
 then were, Gen. ii. 16, 17. 
 
 Berrij-Str. Led. ib. p. 189. 
 
 3. By the seduction of an evil spirit (compare 
 Gen. iii. 4. with Rev. xii. 9; xx. 2. 2 Cor. xi. 3; 
 and Gen. iii. 15. with Col. ii. 15. Rom. xvi. 20. 2 
 Cor. xi. 3.) they were prevailed upon to violate that 
 precept, and thereby exposed themselves to the 
 sentence of death by an act of aggravated guilt. 
 To the texts mentioned above, may be added all 
 that the Scripture says of the character of the devil 
 as the tempter, and it being the purpose of Christ 
 to triumph over him. Compare John viii. 44. 1 
 John iii. 8. 
 
 Bates's Harm, of Div. Attr. c. ii. p. 98. Wits. 
 JEcoH. Feed. 1. i. c. viii. § 3 — 9. Goodm. Prod. 
 part i. Berry-Str. Lect. vol. i. p. 208. 
 
 4. When this sin was thus committed, the sen- 
 tence of death, though not immediately executed in 
 its fullest extent, evidently began to lay hold upon 
 thera, as their minds appeared under the distress 
 and the consternation of guilt. Gen. iii. 10. as they 
 were deprived of the pleasures of Paradise, and 
 made to live a life of toil and sorrow, as they were 
 exposed to the disorders of a vitiated constitution, 
 and so death begun to work in them, till at last they 
 were brought down to the grave, Gen. iii. 16 — 19, 
 24 ; v. 5. 
 
 Collier s Sac. Int. vol. i. p. 135, 1.36. Cumber- 
 land's Oriff. Gent. p. 409. Tayl. on Orif/. 
 Sin, p. 7 — 21. Chandl. Posth. Serm. vol. iv. 
 No. i. p. 13—20; ib. No. ii. Burn, at 
 Boyle's Lect. vol. ii. p. 9 — 32. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Any transgression of God's natural law would 
 probably have been punished with at least as much 
 severity as the breach of this positive appointment : 
 but the circumstances in which Adam was at his 
 first creation, were such as remo\ cd him from all 
 temptations to, and in some instances from all pos- 
 sibility of, committing many of those sins, which 
 now most frequently abound among his posterity ; 
 which is one thought of considerable importance to 
 vindicate the divine wisdom in that constitution 
 under which he placed him. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Had Adam continued in a state of innocence, 
 there is a great deal of reason to believe that he 
 would have been happy. It has indeed been plead- 
 ed, That God, being the Author of the creature's 
 existence, and of all his capacities both of action 
 and enjoyment, cannot be obliged to continue to 
 him his being and comforts ; so that, supposing the 
 creature ever .so innocent and ever so virtuous, he 
 should be able of right to claim them. Neverthe- 
 
 less, it was what an innocent creature would natu- 
 rally expect from a Being, of whose infinite good- 
 ness he had such abundant evidence and rich 
 experience : and when there was (as in the case of 
 Adam) an express threatening annexed to disobe- 
 dience, that seems to imply, that while he continued 
 obedient he should continue happy. 
 
 Wits. Econ. Feed. 1. i. c. iv. § 1 — 3. Clar. 
 Posth. Serm. vol. i. p. 409. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is questioned whether Adam, in case of inno- 
 cence, would have had reason to expect the con- 
 tinuance of a happy life on earth, or a translation 
 to a nobler state of being elsewhere. Had he abode 
 on earth, his felicit}' must bav^e been continually 
 increasing, by the exercise of his rational faculties 
 in the contemplation of God, and new discoveries 
 made of his works, as well as by the multiplication 
 of his posterity, on supposition of their continued 
 innocence. But it may be added, that on this sup- 
 position, in succeeding generations earth would 
 have been too small to receive and sustain the 
 growing numbers of mankind : and it must be 
 acknowledged, that this seems to be an intimation 
 that, some way or another, colonies would in that 
 case have been transplanted from hence to some 
 other abode ; and on supposition of Adam's own 
 removal, he would have had some reason to hope it 
 should have been to some more excellent state and 
 abode ; at least he could have no reason to infer a 
 change for the worse, while he continued innocent 
 and obedient. 
 
 Turret. Tnstit. vol. i. Loc. viii. Quest, vi. § 9. 
 Wits. Econ. Feed. 1. i. c. iv. § 9. 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 The revelation which was made to Adam did not 
 (so far as we can learn) contain any intimation of 
 pardon, in case of transgression ; and had the sen- 
 tence been executed in its utmost \igo;ir, he would 
 have had no room to accuse the divine juslirc : and 
 if (which seems not improbable from comparing 
 Gen. iii. 24.) Adam had any sight of and converse 
 with other intelligent beings of a superior order, he 
 might justly conclude, that God would act in such 
 a manner towards him in case of his transgression, 
 as to prevent any encouragement to moral evil which 
 they might derive from his impunity: and if he had 
 any suspicion of a posterity to be derived from him, 
 (which the sentence on Eve gave him room, not- 
 withstanding bis on'eiice, to conclude,) Iherc would 
 be further reason for such an apprehension. 
 
 Emlyn's Serm, No. iii. p. 4.'). 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURE CLXVI. 
 
 SCUOLll'M 5. 
 
 The extent of thai death, uliicli was annexed to 
 the transgression of the divine command given to 
 Adam, might not perhaps be eertainly known by 
 him, unless it were more fully expressed to him 
 tlian it is to us in the Mosaic history. He must 
 certainly apprehend, that it included the loss of 
 that happiness vi Inch he tlien possessed ; and per- 
 haps the extinction of being, and entire loss of all 
 happiness, might be the punishment due to the least 
 triuisgrcssion of the divine law. That argument for 
 the immortality of the soul, which is drawn from the 
 unequal distribution of rewards and punishments, 
 could not be known to Adanj; but that whicli arises 
 from the nature and capacities of the human mind, 
 must appear to liim in all its evidence: and there- 
 fore, (so far as we can imagine,) he would, from the 
 light of nature, have reason to apprehend some 
 state of future existence, and to fear, that if tem- 
 poral death was brought upon him by his trans- 
 gression of the divine law, that future existence 
 would be a state of punishment rather than enjoy- 
 ment : nor can we say how he should be able to 
 assign any point of time in which the punishment 
 of so aggravated an ollence must necessarily ter- 
 minate. 
 
 Berry-Street Lec. vol. i. p. 554. Locke's Reas. 
 Christ, vol. i. p. 1 ; vol. ii. p. 474. Grove on 
 a Future State, c. viii. § 6, 7. p. 104. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Hence it follows that, according to the Mosaic 
 history, when God placed Adam in Paradise, he 
 did in effect enter into a covenant with him, w hereby 
 he encouraged him to expect continued life and 
 happiness, on condition of perfect obedience ; but 
 threatened him with death, in case he should in 
 any instance transgress his moral or his positive 
 law ; which is the same thing that divines generally 
 mean, by what they call the Covenant of Works. 
 And it seems. That .so far as the light of nature 
 reaches in discovering our duty, we are all so born 
 under such a covenant, as by sin to be exposed to 
 death ; which may be considered as including not 
 merely the separation of our souls from our l)odies, 
 and the consequent dissolution of the mortal part, 
 — but likewise such degrees of future punishment 
 as it shall seem to the Supreme Judge righteous 
 and fit to inflict. Compare Rom. vi. 23. Rev. xxi. 
 8. Deut. xxvii. 2G. Gal. iii. 10, 13. Ezek. xviii. 20. 
 
 Rawlins on Justif. p. 8. 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 It is evident that the transgression in eating the 
 forbidden fruit was the first sin committed by 
 Adam, because the sentence of death followed it ; 
 which must (according to the nature of that dis- 
 
 pensation he was under) be the consequence of the 
 first oflencc. Gen. iii. 17, &c. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 It is dlllicult to determine certainly what we are 
 to understand by the Tree of Life. Some have 
 thought that it was no more than a plcth/c of life to 
 Adam, in case of obedience, and might in that view 
 have been indillerently chosen from among any 
 kind of trees in the garden: others have conjec- 
 tured that it had some cordial virtue, of an excel- 
 lent use for reviving the spirits and j)reserving the 
 health (compare Rev. xii. 2. witli Ezek. xlvii. 12.); 
 and some have carried this so far as to conclude, 
 that the mortality of Adam's nature was the natural 
 consequence of his being excluded from that tree, 
 even though we should suppose no change to be 
 made in his constitution after his sin, Gen. iii. 22. 
 Mr. Kennicott has endeavoured to prove, that the 
 Tree of Life signifies all the trees of the garden, 
 which were intended as food for the preservation of 
 life ; and another writer has attempted to prove, 
 that the tree of knoivlethje and of life were the same. 
 This is not a place in which to discuss their re- 
 spective opinions ; but, on the whole, that opinion 
 which makes it a single tree of cordial virtue (as 
 above) seems most probable. Compare Prov. iii. 
 18 ; xi. 30 ; xiii. 12, 
 
 Kennic. Diss, on the Tree of Life. Wits. Econ. 
 
 Fad. 1. i. c. vi. § 11, 12. Turret. Inst. Loc. 
 
 viii. Quest, v. § 4, 5. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 9. 
 Many divines have likewise thought that the 
 tree of knowledge was a slow poison, which so 
 vitiated the fluids of the human body, as in process 
 of time to occasion the deatli of Adam, and of all 
 those who should descend from him after the infec- 
 tion w as taken : and they have likewise thought it 
 possible, that his blood and spirits might be so 
 altered by the juice of it, as that sensual propensi- 
 ties and other passions might be thereby made 
 much stronger than they were before,— and so that 
 symmetry of the faculties broken, on which philo- 
 sophical liberty depends. (Vid. Def. 20. Cor. 2. 
 Prop. 17. Cor.) — It is objected. That upon this hy- 
 pothesis the corruption and distemper of human 
 nature must get less and less, as every generation 
 is further removed from Adam, in whom there must 
 surely have been vastly more of this supposed 
 poison than there can be in any of his descendants. 
 But it is replied, That it is the nature of poisons so 
 to assimilate the blood to themselves, as to corrupt 
 the whole mass of it, and to render an infection 
 transmitted through many persons as dangerous as 
 at first hand ; as in the case of the bite of a mad 
 dog, the small-pox, &c. 
 
 Barr. Ess. on var. Dispens. p. 20. Note. Burn. 
 Art. p. 111. Moliere's Life, p. 17. Burn. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 439 
 
 <tt B. Led. vo.. ii. p. 55. Dclaii. Rev. exam. 
 vol. i. Diss. i. p. 8. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 10. 
 
 It is generally supposed, that the sin of Adam not 
 only brought a curse on the (/round, Gen. iii. 18. 
 (which, by the way, Dr. Woodward supposes not to 
 have taken place till the Deluge, and Bishop Sher- 
 lock to have been then removed,) but also, that it 
 brought confusion and disturbance into the whole 
 frame of nature in our world, both in the elements, 
 occasioning greater inclemencies of weather tlian 
 would otherwise have been, and also upon the 
 animal creation, who it is supposed would not 
 otherwise have devoured each other. Compare Isa. 
 xi. 6—8 ; Ixv. 25. Rom. viii. 19—22. It is indeed 
 exceedingly probable that those animals, w hich are 
 now dangerous to mankind, had at first such an 
 awe impressed upon them, as effectually to secure 
 him from any danger of their assaults ; but wo 
 confess it is difficult to conceive how those animals, 
 whose present frame shows them to have been of 
 the carnivorous kind, could, without a miracle, 
 have subsisted upon vegetables. Vid. Prop. 119. 
 § 3. No. ii. 
 
 Milt. Par. Lost, 1. x. ver. 651—719. Whit. 
 
 Ham. and Locke on Horn. viii. 19. &c. 
 
 Woodto. Nat. Hist. p. 73. Shcrl. on Proph. 
 . Disc. iv. p. 87. Grove's Posth. Serm. vol. i. 
 
 Serm. \i. p. 165. Watts's World to come. 
 
 Disc, at Beyin. Philos. Surv. of Anim. 
 
 Creat. part ii. § 1. part iii. § 2. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 11. 
 Some have conjectured that our first parents, in 
 their stale of innocence, were clothed with a visible 
 glory, or lucid appearance ; which, according to 
 these writers, was a part of the image of God in 
 which they were created. They suppose that the 
 departure of this glory, as soon as they transgressed, 
 was the nakedness which they were conscious of ; 
 and on this principle suppose that the like glory 
 will be restored to the righteous at the resurrection ; 
 and argue, from those passages which favour that 
 doctrine, the probability of man's being possessed 
 of it in his primeval state. Compare Matt. xiii. 43 ; 
 xvii. 2. Phil. iii. 21. 1 Cor. xv. 43, and with 
 reference to this, some authors explain Rom. iii. 23. 
 2 Cor. v. 1—5. Rom. viii. 3. and even Pliil. ii. 6. 
 though not all witli c(iual reason. 
 
 Mede's Dint. up. Opera. Barring. Ess. p. 11. 
 
 Flem. Christol. vol. ii. p. 246. 
 
 LECTURE CLXVII. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXX. 
 The actions or sufferings of A, might be said to 
 be iMi'UTED to B, if B should on the account of 
 
 them in any degree be treated as if he had done or 
 suffered what A has done or suffered, when he really 
 has not ; and when, without this action or suffering 
 of A, B would not be so treated. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 The sin of A may be said to be imputed, if B, 
 though innocent, be upon that account treated in 
 any degree as a sinner. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 The righteousness oi A may be .said to be imputed 
 to B, if, upon the account of it, B, though a sinner, 
 be treated as if he were righteous. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 There may be real, when there is not a total, 
 imputation either of the righteousness or sin of 
 another. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 The justice of such imputation, on one hand or 
 the other, can in the general be neither affirmed nor 
 denied ; but it is to be determined in particular 
 cases, by a view of particular circumstances, and 
 especially by considering the degree of the impu- 
 tation. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXXV. 
 The sin of Adam is in some degree imputed to a!! 
 those who descended from him in the way of ordi- 
 nary generation. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 133. 1. We are all born with such consti- 
 tutions as will produce some evil inclinations, 
 which we probably should not have had in our 
 original state ; wliich evil inclinations are repre- 
 sented in Scripture as derived from our parents, 
 and therefore may be ultimately traced up to the 
 first sinful parent from whom we descended. 
 
 2. Infants are plainly liable to diseases and death, 
 though they have not committed any personal trans- 
 gression, — w hich, while they are incapable of know- 
 ing the law, it seems impossible tiiey should be 
 capable of. Rom. v. 12 — 14. 
 
 2. 3. The seeds of diseases and death are no 
 doubt derived to children from their immediate 
 parents, and from thence may be traced up, through 
 preceding generations, to the first diseased and 
 mortal parent, /. e. Adam. 
 
 4. The Scripture teaches us to consider Adam as 
 having brought a sentence of death upon his whole 
 race, and expressly says, "That by his transgression 
 many were constituted sinners ;" i. e. on account of 
 it are treated as such, 1 Cor. xv. 22 ; Rom. v. 12 — 19. 
 
 5. The sin of Adam brouglit upon himself depraved 
 inclinations, an impaired constitution, and at length 
 death. Prop. 134. 
 
 6. There is no reason to believe that, had man 
 continued in a state of innocence, his offspring- 
 would have been thus corrupt and thus calamitous 
 from their birth. 
 
 \—€. 7. Valet propositio. Def.m. Cor.X. 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Loche and IV/iit. o)i Horn. v. 12. limn, at B. 
 l.ret. vol. ii. p. 38. Taylor on Orig. Sin, p. 
 2o; with Jrnn. Aiis. Chand. Poslh. Scrni. 
 vol. iv. No. vi. Edw. on Orig. Sin, 2. iv. 
 Wrslei/ on ditto. 
 
 COROLLARY I. 
 
 Ht'iice it appears that the covenant was made 
 willi Adam, not only for himself, but in some nica- 
 -sure for his posterittj ; so that he was to be con- 
 sidered as the great /lead and representative of all 
 that were to descend from him. 
 
 Edw. on Orig. Sin, p. 200. Watts's Ruin and 
 Hccov. Taylor's Snpplcm. § 6. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It may seem probable, in consequence of this 
 damage which Adam's posterity was to become 
 liable to by his transgression, that they would have 
 received some additional advantages from his con- 
 tinued obedience but what those advantages were, 
 the Scripture does not expressly say, nor is it neces- 
 sary for us particularly to know : in general, we are 
 sure they must have been such as would secure the 
 honours of divine justice in the establishment of 
 such a constitution ; — but more will J)e said eon- 
 i-crning this below. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 This imputation of the sin of Adam to liis pos- 
 terity, is wliat divines generally call, with some 
 latitude of expression, original sin, distinguishing 
 it from actual sin, i. e. from personal guilt. Yid. 
 Prop. 133. Schol. 5. 
 
 Watts's Ituin and Recov. p. 3. Taylor's Sup- 
 plement, § 1. 
 
 SCHOLII M 2. 
 
 It is plain, in fact, that children frequently fare 
 the worse for those faults of their parents which it 
 was not in their power to help, especially as here- 
 ditary disorders are often communicated, — which 
 lay a foundation for a miserable life and a more 
 early death. If therefore a righteous God does in 
 fact govern the world, we must allow it consistent 
 with justice that it should be thus ; nor will there 
 appear any inconsistence, if we consider that jus- 
 tice determines not the manner in which the crea- 
 ture shall be treated in any given time in the be- 
 ginning of its existence, but the manner in which 
 it shall on the whole be treated : — a thought which 
 might be suflicient to vindicate those passages in 
 which God threatens to punish the iniquity of 
 parents by the calamities of their children, Exod. 
 XX. 5. 1 Kings xiv. 9, 10 ; xxi. 21, 22. Lam. v. 7. 
 Matt, xxiii. 35. 
 
 Turr. Inst. Loc. ix. Qu. xix. ^ 20. Ruin and 
 
 Rec. Qu. iii. iv. p. 106 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 
 
 226. Grove's Posth. IV. vol. iv. p. 198. 
 
 Snur- Serm. vol. vii. p. 372. 
 
 SCHOLH'M 3. 
 
 It is debated how far the imputation of Adam's 
 sin reaches ; particularjy, whether it extends to 
 eternal death, or everlasting misery, supposing that 
 everlasting misery is the conse(iuence of personal 
 guilt. Wc do here readily allow that God might 
 righteously have put a period to the whole human 
 race, immediately after the transgression of Adam, 
 and consequently that we might have been said to 
 be lost for ever by that transgression. We also 
 allow, that God might, for aught we know, consist- 
 ently with his own perfections, suffer the souls of 
 those who die in their infancy to be utterly extin- 
 guished, and to sink into everlasting insensibility ; 
 and in that case, the transgression of that ancestor 
 which made them mortal, might in a qualilied sense 
 be said to destroy their souls. But that one rational 
 creature should be made finally and eternally miser- 
 able for the action of another, m hicli it was no way 
 in his power to prevent, docs so ill agree with our 
 natural notions of divine justice, and the repeated 
 declarations of Scripture, {v.g. Ezek. xviii. 2, 3, 4, 
 20. Jer. xxxi. 29, 30. Deut. xxiv. 16. 2 Kings xiv. 
 G.) and with what God is pleased to say concerning 
 his compassion for infants, Jonah iv. nit. that we 
 must at least wait for the plainest and fullest de- 
 cision of Scripture before we can admit it as true. 
 Ridgl. Body of Div. vol. i. p. 330. Ridg. 
 Orig. Sin, p. 42. Watts's Ruin and Re- 
 covery, p. 329. 
 
 SCHOLH'M 4. 
 
 The most considerable argument to prove the im- 
 putation of Adam's sin to the eternal condemnation 
 of his posterity, is taken from those passages of 
 Scripture, as well as those rational evidences which 
 prove eternal death to be the wages of sin, compared 
 with those mentioned above, in which it is said that 
 all died in Adam : but it is so evident that death 
 does not always include eternal misery, and that a 
 person may be said to die for the sins of another 
 who is not made eternally miserable for them, that 
 one cannot l)ut be surprised at the stress that has 
 been laid upon it. Calv. Instit. 1. ii. e. i. § 8, 
 
 LECTURE CLXVIII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 To show that a constitution, whereby all man- 
 kind should become obnoxious to eternal misery 
 for the transgression of one connnon head, is con- 
 sistent witli divine justice, many have pleaded, 
 that in consequence of such an appointment, we 
 stood so fair a chance for happiness, that if we had 
 then existed, and the propo.sal had been made us, 
 we must in reason have been contented to put onr 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 441 
 
 eternal all on that issue : so that God might reason- 
 ably impute that to us as our act, which he knew 
 would have been our act, if we had been consulted 
 on the occasion. But nothing would seem sufficient 
 to vindicate such a proceeding, unless we were to 
 suppose (as an obscure writer has done) that the 
 souls of all the race of Adam were for that moment 
 actually brought into being, and gave personal con- 
 sent to that covenant, after which they were reduced 
 to a state of insensibility, till the appointed moment 
 came for their animating their respective bodies. 
 Sale's Kor. c. vii. p. 13.5. Howe's Works, vol. 
 ii. p. 253. Blacktv. Sc/i. Sac. p. 165. Watts's 
 Ruin and Rec. p. 138. Edw. Oriff. Sin. p. 410. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 As a counterpart of the hardships put upon 
 Adam's race, by such a covenant as has been re- 
 presented, it has been asserted that all his posterity 
 would after his short trial have been confirmed in a 
 state of immutable happiness ; and Dr. Guyse in 
 particular conjectures, it might have been as soon 
 as the fruit of the forbidden tree dropped off: but 
 all this seems to be said without any express war- 
 rant from Scripture. Had any of the race of Adam 
 committed any act of moral wickedness, we may 
 conclude that such an offender, and probably his 
 posterity, would have received some detriment ; 
 and had Cain for instance, at least when adult, 
 eaten of the forbidden fruit, the natvral conse- 
 quences flowing thence to all mankind on Adam's 
 transgression must (so far as we can judge) have 
 descended to the race of Cain alone. Now that the 
 one of these was possible, none can deny, unless 
 they suppose that the whole race Mould, on the 
 obedience of Adam, have had such extraordinary 
 degrees of divine influence entailed upon them as 
 would in fact have been an everlasting security to 
 them against every degree of temptation : this was 
 indeed possible ; but wc cannot discern such evi- 
 dence of it from Scripture, as should imbolden us 
 to such an assertion. 
 
 Berry-Street Lcct. vol. i. p. 189. 
 sCHom M 7. 
 
 On the whole, the most plausible thing which is 
 said to prove the probability of a covenant, in which 
 eternal misery should be brought upon all men by 
 the guilt of the first sin, is this:— That we see in 
 fact that mankind is brought into such a state, that 
 every man docs in some instances or other break 
 the law of God himself, when he grows up ; and 
 this, in consequence of an original corruption 
 derived from Adam,— as most at least acknowledge, 
 even of those who deny the total imputation of his 
 sin. Now it is .said that it is as just to punish an 
 innocent person dirrclly for the guilt of another, as 
 upon account of that other person's guilt to bring 
 him into such a (condition, that he must necessarily 
 sin, and then inflict that punishment upon him for 
 
 his own necessary act, which was objected against 
 as unjust in the former case. — It is hard to say how 
 this argument can be answered, unless we deny 
 that any act of sin whatsoever is necessarily com- 
 mitted. On the other side it is urged. That, upon 
 this supposition, it is a possible thing that any man, 
 even in this fallen state, may continue perfectly 
 innocent throughout the whole period of his life. 
 The consequence cannot be denied : therefore it 
 must on the whole be considered, whether it may be 
 more rational to believe that every man does in fact 
 sin, though he might possibly in every instance have 
 avoided it, — or that God should plunge the whole 
 race of mankind into perpetual and necessary ruin 
 for the guilt of one of them. 
 
 Burn, on the Art. p. 111. Burn, de Fide, p. 141. 
 
 Sch. Sacrum, p. 1G4. Baxt. End of Controv. 
 
 c. X. Limb. Theol. 1. iii. c. iii. § 20 ; c. iv. 
 
 § 3 ; c. V. § 3. Calv. Inst. 1. ii. c. i. § 5. 
 SCHOLlt'M 8. 
 
 It may not be improper here to mention the sin- 
 gular opinion of Dr. Watts, in his very ingenious 
 treatise on the Ruin and Recovery of Mankind; 
 which is, that the sin of Adam has subjected all his 
 posterity not only to natural death, but to the utter 
 extinction of hciny ; the consequence of which is, 
 that all those who die in their infancy fall into a 
 state of annihilation, excepting those w ho are the 
 seed of God's people, who by virtue of the bless- 
 ings of the covenant made w ith Abraham, and the 
 promise to the seed of the righteous, (compare par- 
 ticularly Isa. Ixv. 23. Jer. xxxi. 15—17.) shall, 
 through the grace and power of Christ, obtain a part 
 in a happy resurrection, in which other infants 
 shall have no share. — It is certain llcv. xx. 12. will 
 not disprove this opinion, because it may refer to 
 persons of all ranks in life, as it often does, vid. 
 Rev. xi. 18. compare xx. 13. But, on the whole, 
 it seems best to acknowledge that we know nothing 
 certain concerning the state of infants, and therefore 
 can assert nothing positively ; but that they arc in 
 the hands of a merciful God, who, as he cannot, 
 consistently with justice and truth, give them a 
 sense of guilt for an action they never committed, 
 so probably he will not hold their souls in being, 
 merely to make them sensible of pain for the guilt 
 of a remote ancestor. — Their existence in a state of 
 everlasting insensibility (which was Dr. Ridgley's 
 scheme) seems hardly intelligible : we must there- 
 fore cither fall in with the above-mentioned hypo- 
 thesis, or supjmse them all to have a ])art in the 
 resurrection to glory ; which .seems to put them all 
 on a level, without a due distinction in favour of 
 the seed of believers ; or else must suppose they go 
 through .some new state of trial, — a thing concern- 
 ing which the Scripture is wholly silent. 
 
 Ruin and Rec. p. 324; Works, vol. vi, p. 308. 
 Edw. on Original Sin, p. 431. 
 
U2 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURE CLXIX. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXl. 
 Whatever that is, which being; done or sufTercd 
 cither by an offending ereature himself, or by 
 another person for him, shall sec ure tlie honours of 
 the divine 2;overnment in bestowing upon the 
 oll'ender pardon and hapj)iness, may properly be 
 called a satisfaction or atonkmunt made to God 
 for him. 
 
 Watts's Redeemer and Sanctijier, p. 28 — 32; 
 Works, vol. iii. p. 741—743. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Tt is not here our intention to assert, That it is in 
 the pow er of an offending creature to satisfy for his 
 own sins, — but only to show what we mean when 
 we speak of his doing it. 
 
 SCHOLII'M 2. 
 
 Such a sense of the word satisfaction, though not 
 in strict propriety of speech amounting to the pay- 
 ment of a debt, is agreeable to the use of the word 
 in the Roman late ; where it signifies to content a 
 person nyr/ricvcd, and is put for some valuable con- 
 sideration, substituted instead of what is a proper 
 payment, and consistent with a remission of that 
 debt or ofTencc for which such supposed satisfac- 
 tion is made ; which is a circumstance to be care- 
 fully oliserved, in order to vindicate the doctrine 
 we are about to establish, and to maintain the con- 
 sistency between different parts of the Christian 
 scheme. See this sense abundantly confirmed by 
 citations from Grotius, Caius, Ulpian, and Pom- 
 ponius. 
 
 Chapm. JEus. vol. ii. p. 406. Benson on 1 Pet. 
 Appendix. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXXVI. 
 Christ has made satisfaction for the sins of all 
 those who repent of their sins, and return to God in 
 the way of sincere, though imperfect, obedience. 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Although Christ was innocent, nevertheless 
 he endured very grievous sulferings both in body 
 and mind, Isa. liii. 3. Matt. xxvi. 38. and this he 
 did spontaneously, Ileb. x. 7, 9. 
 
 2. It is expressly asserted in Scripture, that tliesc 
 sufferings were brought upon Christ for the saJie of 
 sinful men, in whose stead he is sometimes also said to 
 have suffered. Isa. liii. 5, G, 10. Matt. xx. 28. Rom. 
 iii. 23; v. 6—8. 2 Cor. v. 21. Gal. iii. 13. Eph.v. 2. 
 Hcb. vii. 27 ; ix. 26 ; x. 12. 1 Pet. ii. 24 ; iii. 18. 
 
 Raphelii Annot. in Rom. v. 8. ( ex Xenoph.) 
 apud Op. vol. ii. p. 253. 
 
 3. The offers of pardon and eternal salvation arc 
 made in Scripture to those that repent and return 
 to God, for the sake of what Christ has done and 
 sullered, in uhom they are therefore declared to be 
 
 accepted by God, and to whom they are hereupon 
 taught to ascribe the glory of their salvation. John 
 iii. 14 — 17. Acts x. 35, 36, 43 ; ii. 38 ; iii. 18, ly. 
 Rom. iv. 2;>. Col. i. 20—22. 2 Cor. v. 18—20. Eph. 
 i. 5—7. Heb. i. 3; ix. 14. x. 4—10, 14. Rev. i. 6, 
 6; V. 9, 10; vii. 13, 14. 
 
 Syhes on Redemption, part i. e. 6, 6. 
 
 4. It is evident that, according to the Gospel 
 institution, pardon and life were to be offered to 
 all to whom the preaching of the Gospel came, 
 without an exception. Mark xvi. 15, 16. Acts xiii. 
 38, 39. 1 John ii. 1, 2. Isa. liii. 6. John i. 29. 
 
 b. It is plain, from the whole tenor of the episto- 
 lary part of the New Testament, as well as from 
 some particular passages of it, that there was a 
 remainder of imperfection, generally at least, to be 
 found even in the best Christians ; notwithstanding 
 which they are encouraged to rejoice in the hope of 
 .salvation by Christ. Phil. iii. 13. Gal. v. 17. James 
 iii. 2. 1 John i. 8—10 ; ii. 1, 2. 
 
 6. Whereas, so far as we can judge, the remission 
 of sin, without any satisfaction at all, might have 
 laid a foundation for men's thinking lightly of the 
 law of God, it is certain that, by tlie obedience and 
 sufferings of Christ, a very great honour is done to 
 it ; and mercy communicated to us as the purchase 
 of his blood, comes in so awful as well as so en- 
 dearing a manner, as may have the best tendency 
 to engage those who embrace the Gospel to a life 
 of holy obedience. 
 
 Whit, on John iii. 16. Eph. i. 8. and Heh. x. 
 
 14. Burn, on Art. No. ii. p. .52. Howe's 
 
 Worhs, vol. i. p. 204. Tillot. Works, vol. i. 
 
 p. 477. Turner at B. Lect. Serm. viii. 
 
 Eml. Tracts, vol. i. p. 235. vol. ii. 'p. 43. 
 
 Tomk. Christ the Mediat. c. 1. p. 6. Butl. 
 
 Anal, part ii. c. v. p. 207, 8ce. Clarke's 
 
 Post. Serm. vol. v. No. ix. p. 203. StilUnyf. 
 
 on Christ's Satisf. Preface. 
 
 COIIOLLARV 1. 
 
 It is a very peculiar glory of the Gospel, that it 
 gives so satisfactory an account of the method 
 whereby sin may be pardoned, in a manner con- 
 sistent with the honours of the divine government ; 
 and thereby relieves the mind from that anxiety to 
 which, if left merely to its own reasoning, it might 
 otherwise be exposed on that account. 
 
 Leiand ay. Tind. vol. i. p. 168. 
 
 COROLLAKY 2. 
 
 From comparing what has been said in this pro- 
 po.sition with Def. 80. Cor. 1, 2. it appears that, on 
 the one hand, our sins w ere imputed to Christ ; — 
 on the other, that we twc justified by the imputation 
 of Christ's righteousness to us ; i. e. we, though 
 guilty, on complying with the G'ospel, are finally 
 treated by God riyliteous persons, {i. e. as if we 
 Iiad never offended him at all, or had ourselves 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 443 
 
 satisfied the demands of his law for such offences,) 
 out of regard to what Christ has done or sufiered ; 
 Mliereas wc should not otherwise have been so 
 treated. Compare Isa. xlv. 24, 25; liii. 11. Jer. 
 xxiii. 6. Rom. iii. 22 ; v. 17—19 ; x. 3 ; iv. 4—6. 
 2 Cor. V. 21. Phil. iii. 9. 2 Pet. i. 1. 
 
 Turret. Loc. xvi. vol. ii. p. 700. Le Blanc 
 Thes. de Justif. Clir. Imput. § 13. Boijse's 
 Works, vol. i. p. 443. Whith. Com. vol, ii. 
 p. 217. Rawlin's Serm. Just. p. 262. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 It is plain, from </>•. 3, 4. that there is a sense, in 
 which Christ may be said to have died for all ; i. e. 
 as he has procured an oiler of pardon to all, pro- 
 vided they sincerely embrace the Gospel. Com- 
 pare John iii. 16 ; vi. 51. Rom. v. 18 ; viii. 32. 1 
 Cor. viii. 11.2 Cor. v. 14, 15, 19. 1 Tim. ii. 4, 6. 
 Heb. ii. 9. 1 John ii. 2. 
 
 Whit, on John iii. 17. and 2 Pet. ii. 1. Turret. 
 Loc. iv. Q. x\ii. § 29, &c. Limc-st. Lee. vol. 
 1. p. 454. Ruin and Rec. Q. xii. p. 244. Q. 
 xiii. p. 265; Works, \o\. vi. p. 279. Calv.on 
 Matt. xxvi. 8. Rom. v. 18. 1 Cor. viii. 11.1 
 John ii. 2. 2 Pet. ii. 1. Howe's Works, vol. 
 ii. p. 50. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 From the Scriptures mentic-ned above, it appears 
 how wrong it is to represent the death of Christ as 
 merely the natural consequence of his undertaking 
 the reformation of so corrupt an age, in the manner 
 in which he did it. Nothing can be plainer than 
 that Christ came into the world on purpose to die, 
 (Matt. XX. 28. John vi. 50, 51 ; x. 17, 18 ; xii. 27, 
 28. Acts ii. 23. Gal. i. 4. Heb. ii. 14; x. 4, &c. 
 1 Pet. i. 19, 20. 1 John iv. 10.) which is much illus- 
 trated by the apparent power which Christ had, and 
 in many circumstances of his life and sufferings 
 showed, of delivering himself by miracle whenever 
 he pleased. 
 
 Fast. ag. Tind. p. 316. Postsc. p. 348. Tonik. 
 Christ, the Mediat. p. 45. llallet on Script. 
 vol, ii. p. 283. 
 
 LECTURE CLXX. 
 
 SCHOLUM 1. 
 
 Though Christ were perfectly innocent, he might 
 be afflicted in the manner in which Scripture re- 
 presents, by reason of the imputation of our sins 
 to him, seeing it appears that he volunlarili/ con- 
 sented to it, and that ample rccompcnce is made 
 him, Heb. x. 7. Phil, ii, 9. Psal. ex. 7. to which 
 may perhaps be added Heb. xii. 2. 
 
 Christ, the Med. p. 119. Tind. on Chris, p. 376. 
 
 Bates's Harm, of Div. Attr. p. 244; Works, 
 p. 174. Butl. Anal: p. 210, part ii. c. v. § 7. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It appears from Luke xxiii. 43. John xix. 30. 
 that the soul of Christ, after his death, did not go 
 into a state of punishment, but that his sufferings 
 ended when he expired. As for the argument 
 brought from 1 Pet. iii. 19. it is well known there 
 are many other interpretations of that text ; of 
 which the most probable seems to be this. That 
 Christ, by his Spirit in Noah, preached to those 
 who, continuing disobedient, were destroyed by the 
 flood, and whose separate spirits are now confined, 
 and reserved to future punishment. 
 
 Barring, on. Disp. App. No. iii. Burn, on 
 
 Art. iii. p. 55. More's Theol. Works, p, 17. 
 
 Har. Diss, p, 73.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is greatly debated. Whether we are justified by 
 Christ's death alone, or by the imputation of his 
 active and passive obedience i but this seems to be a 
 controversy of much less importance than it has 
 generally been represented. All that Christ did 
 or sufiered to repair the violated honours of the 
 divine law, and to secure the rights of God's go- 
 vernment in the pardon of sin, mu.st be taken into the 
 view of his satisfaction, according to the definition 
 given of it above ; nevertheless, forasmuch as his 
 death was a most glorious instance of his concern 
 for the honour of God and the happiness of man, 
 and that whereby the divine honour was most emi- 
 nently secured, the Scripture docs in many places 
 ascribe our acceptance to this. See the texts quoted 
 before, especially those under gr. 3. 
 
 Williams's Works, vol. iv, p. 19. Turretine 
 loc. q. 3. vol. ii. p, 705, 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Hardly any controversy on this head has been 
 more insisted upon, than that which arises from this 
 question, vis. Whether such a satisfaction as the 
 Gospel represents were absolutely necessary ? or 
 whether God might have pardoned sin without it, 
 by a mere sovereign act ? For the necessity of a 
 satisfaction, the chief Scripture argument is taken 
 from Heb. ii. 10. but it is said, on the other hand, 
 that this text only proves the way actually taken to 
 have been a way worthy of God, — not tliat it was the 
 only way that could have been so. It is likewise 
 
 * Tliat the soul of our Saviour actually dtsccncled into Ilell, or tlie 
 placeof torment for the wicked, not by way of punishint-nt, hut t»f tri- 
 unii<h over Satan's kingdom, was an opinion advanced by liisliop Bii- 
 son, in a treatise entitled The Survey of Christ's SuH'erinf^s for Man's 
 Ucdemption ; and of his IJescent to Hades, or Ilell, for our Deliver- 
 ance. This opinir)n, which was supported by Archbislujp AViiit^^iff, 
 and was very popular for a time, was attacked by Mr. IIu;;h Urou;^hton, 
 in his Explication of the Article of Christ's Descent to Ilell. IMr. 
 nroupliton maintained that the word hades nowhere, either amon^c the 
 (ireeksor in the Scriptures, did properly denote //tV/, or a place of tor- 
 ment, but only the placeof souls, the state of the dead, or the invisi. 
 ble world. 
 
 In the third volumcof the Theological Repository is an explanation 
 of 1 IVItr iii. 19. and Dr. Benson h.is a dissertation on the subjitt. 
 See his I'araphr-isc and Notes, vol ii p. 312—320. second edition. 
 
444 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 urg-ed. That it is never to be imagined that God 
 Mould have subjeeted so glorious a person to such 
 suflerings, if any other way could have been dis- 
 covered equally eligible. On the whole, we must 
 acknowledge that we can conceive of no other 
 method so happily contrived to illustrate the divine 
 glory, and secure the gratitude, obedience, and 
 ha]ii)iness of the creature. (Compare Rom. iii. 26. 
 Dr. Gooflw. Rcstor. of Man, lib. i. c. iv. p. 13 ; 
 
 Works, vol. iii. jjart ii. p. 13. Eml. Tracts, 
 
 vol. i. p. 24'i. vol. ii. p. 50. Locke on Rom. 
 
 iii. 24. Witsii Econ. Ffcd. lib. ii. e. viii. 
 
 Oiven de Just. Div, pass. Christ the Med. 
 
 p. 00. Hullet on Scrip, vol. ii. p. 299. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 5. 
 
 The prevaleiiey of sacri^ces in the world, althougli 
 from the light of nature there appears to have been 
 no rational foundation for them, seems, on tlie one 
 hand, to intimate an apprehension in the mind of 
 man, that some satisfaction for sin was requisite ; 
 and on the other, may perhaps intimate that there 
 had been some tradition concerning an expiatory 
 sacrifice appointed by God, which the sacrifices of 
 animals were intended to represent. — See the refer- 
 ences under Pi-op. 122. § 3. 
 
 Tillot. Works, vol. i. p. 478. Outram de Sacr. 
 lib. i. c. xxi. xxii. S'ykes on Sacr. Taylor 
 on Deism, i>. 219. Tayl. Doct. of Atonement. 
 
 SCHOLIUM G. 
 To show with what propriety the death of Christ 
 may be called a sacrifice, it may be proper, more 
 particularly, to reflect on the nature and ellicacy of 
 those Jewish sacrifices which were called sin-offer- 
 inr/s, to wliich there is so plain a reference in the 
 epistle to the Hebrews, and other passages. Con- 
 cerning such sacrifices then it may be observed, 
 
 1. That in all the instances in which they were 
 allowed, they were the terms or conditions on which 
 men were pardoned ; i. t. on which the penalties 
 denounced against such ofl'ences by the Mosaic law 
 were remitted, without which they could not have 
 been so remitted on any pretence of repentance, or any 
 satisfaction made to their injured neighbour ; and 
 for this reason, wliere crimes were declared capital, 
 no sacrifices might be admitted at all (Psal. li. 10.) ; 
 and, on the other hand, the value of the sin-offering 
 was sunk so low in some instances, that the poorest 
 of the people might be able to l)ring it. Lev. v. 
 11, 12. 
 
 2. They were standing evidences of the evil and 
 desert of sin ; and, 
 
 3. Of God's l)cing ready to forgive those who in 
 appointed circumstances presented them ; but, 
 
 4. They could not possibly take aivay sin, i. e. 
 remove the moral guilt even of the least offence, so 
 as to procure in any instance a remission of any 
 thing more than the particular sentence pronounced 
 
 against the offender, by God, as the King of the 
 Jews. 
 
 From this survey, it appears, by the preceding 
 proposition, that the death of Christ was a proper 
 sacrifice, and much more excellent than any other, 
 in that it takes away the final sentence of con- 
 demnation ; whereas the Mosaic sacrifices left the 
 Jews still subject to death, and future punishment 
 too, without such a sincere repentance, as made no 
 jjart of the condition of procuring a let/al remission. 
 Compare Hcb. x. 4, 11. and also Acts xiii. 39. 
 
 Hullet on Scrip, vol. ii. Disc. iii. p. 269. Tayl. 
 
 Doct. of Atotiem. c. 2. Sykes on Redemp. p. 
 
 324. Laiv's Theory, p. 274.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 Dr. Thomas Burnet puts the doctrine of the satis- 
 faction in something of a peculiar view. He says 
 that the death of Christ has not itself satisfied divine 
 justice, but only put us into the capacity of doing 
 it, by confessing our sins, and applying to God for 
 pardon, with a humble dependence upon Christ's 
 death ; which he thinks so necessary a condition of 
 salvation, that no man can obtain it without sub- 
 mitting to it : he thinks this to be the language of 
 an attendance upon the Lord's Supper ; which he 
 lays a very great stress upon, to such a degree as to 
 think that no man has a covenant claim to the 
 mercy of God in Christ, if he does not by engaging 
 in this ordinance declare his trust in Christ's sacri- 
 fice, and so atone the divine displeasure. 
 
 Burnet on Redemption. 
 
 * The question concerning the or iijin, nature, and desi;?n of airrifices, 
 occurs in many tlieological publications. See particularly, A Ueply to 
 Dr. Midiilelon's Examination; a treatise under the title of Zarah, that 
 is, Christianity before Judaism ; and Dr. Brooke's Discourses. Distinct 
 works on the subject, besides those referred to in the text, are, An 
 Essay on tlie Nature, Ori'*in, and Desi^rn of Sacrifices; A Scripture 
 Account of Sacrifices ; aiul A Criticism upon modern Notions of Sacri- 
 fices; bein^ an Examination of Dr. Taylor's Scripture Doctrine of 
 Atonement examined, in relation, 1. To Jewish Sacrifices. 2. To the 
 Sacrifices of our Lord Jesus Christ. The question is likewise largely 
 considered by the author of the last piece, (a Dr. Richie,) in a perform- 
 ance, consistirif; of two volumes quarto, entitled The peculiar Doctrines 
 of Re\eIation, relatint; to piai-ular S.icrifires — Redemption by Christ— 
 the Treatment of different Moral Characters by the Deity, under tlie 
 sev eral Disjiensations of Revealed Religion, exhibited as they are taught 
 in Holy Scripture. 
 
 ^Vitn regard to the atonement of Christ in general, that doctrine, as 
 commonly received, is maintained by Mr. Hampton, in his candid 
 remarks upon Dr. Taylor's treatise on the snbiect : and by Mr Bulkley, 
 in the fifth chapter of the second book of bis Economy of the Gospel. 
 In the same view may be mentioned, A short Defence of the Doctrine 
 of Atoiietnent for Sin liy the Death of Christ. Several of the volumes 
 of the Bampton I,ecture treat likewise upon the subject. In the 
 Theological Repository arc vari(nis papers.ehiefly, thon[;h not entirely, 
 on the other side of the question. These are. An Essay on the one 
 great End of the Life and Death of Christ, intended, more especially, 
 to refute the commonly received Doctrine of Atonement, by Dr. Priest, 
 ley ; An Esvay towards the di.scovery of the true Meaning and I'-nd of 
 Christ's Death and Sacrifice, by Mr. Motter.shead ; Remarks upon an 
 Essay on the Sacrifice of Christ, liy Mr. Itrekell; Es,say on the Doc- 
 trine of Atonement, by Dr. Duchal ; and An Es.say on the Meaning of 
 Atonement, liy Mr. Turner, vol. i. No. 1, 10; vol ii- No. I,. 11 ; vol. iii. 
 No. M. \n Dr. Priestley's Appeal to the serious and candid Professors 
 of Christianity, on various subjects, No.G. relates to the atonement for 
 sin by the deatli of Christ. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 445 
 
 LECTURE CLXXI. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXII. 
 Faith in Christ is, in general, committing our 
 souls to him for salvation in his appointed way ; or 
 more largely, such a persuasion that he is the Mes- 
 siah, and such a desire and expectation of the 
 blessings which he has in his Gospel promised to 
 his people, as engages the soul to fix its dependence 
 upon him, and subject itself to him in all the ways 
 of holy obedience. 
 
 Grove on Faith, p. 6, &c. ; Works, vol. iii. 
 Rymer on Rev. p. 211. Tillotson's Works, 
 vol. iii. p. 481. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Faith in Christ is a very extensive principle, and 
 includes in its nature and inseparable eflTects the 
 whole of moral virtue, — since the precepts of Christ 
 evidently require that we should love God with all 
 our heart, that we should be perfect as lie is per- 
 fect, and pursue whatever things are pure, lovely, 
 virtuous, and honourable. — Matt. xii. 37 ; v. ult. 
 Phil. iv. 8. Grove on Saving Faith, p. 35. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Those who assert that, under the Gospel, a man 
 is justified by faith, cannot justly be accused of 
 subverting our injuring practical religion, if faith 
 be taken ifi the sense here defined. 
 
 Saurin's Sermons, vol. ix. p. 245. Grove, ubi 
 supra, p. 61. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 If the account of faith here given, should appear 
 to be agreeable to the Scripture notion of that faith 
 to which the promises of Gospel salvation are an- 
 nexed, then it will follow that Dr. Whitby is much 
 mistaken, when he represents faith as consisting 
 merely in an assent to the Gospel as true ; and says, 
 That upon declaring that assent, a man was justified 
 from all past sins, without good works; but that 
 good works were necessary, in order to continue in 
 a justified state : unless by this he means, that a 
 person sincerely and fully resolved for good works 
 would have been in a state of salvation, though he 
 had died before he had any opportunity of putting 
 these pious purposes into execution. If this be his 
 sense, he has not expressed it clearly, and it would 
 be very unsafe in the general to define faith accord- 
 ing to his notion of it. 
 
 Locke's Reus, of Chris, vol. i. p. 10. Whitby's 
 Pre/, to Gal. p. 292. 
 
 Dr. Taylor, of Norwich, seems to have entertained 
 a notion much resembling this of Dr. Whitby's, but 
 with this diflerence, that his idea of justifying faith 
 seems to be a faith, upon professing which, a person 
 was justly entitled to enter into the society of those 
 
 who were called the justified ones, or the sanctified 
 people of God, i. e. into the visible church of Christ, 
 who receive the visible signs of pardon and favour 
 from him, and are set apart as his peculiar people, 
 as the Jewish nation in general once was. This is 
 what he calls the first justification, and on that 
 principle attempts to explain St. Paul's discourse 
 of justifying faith in the epistles to the Romans 
 and Galatians ; thereby, as it seems, sinking the 
 passages in question, and others, in which the 
 apostle speaks of the privileges of believers, far 
 below their original sense. It seems much more 
 reasonable to say the apostle addressed the several 
 churches as consisting of sincere Christians, as most 
 of their members were, without taking particular 
 notice of those few who might be otherwise. 
 
 Taylor on Romans. Doddridye on Regenera- 
 tion, Postscript.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 Some divines have chosen to call this purpose of 
 holy obedience, essential to true faith, by tlie name 
 of internal good works, and the fruit actually pro- 
 duced in life, external ; and in this sense of the 
 words it must be acknowledged that, according to 
 our definition of faith, compared with the following 
 proposition, w e maintain the universal necessity of 
 good works as much as any can do ; but it may be 
 questioned whether this is the most natural sense of 
 the word. Comp. John vi. 29. 
 
 Watvrland's Sermons, vol. ii. p. 54. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 We allow that the word faith has various signifi- 
 cations in Scripture besides this ; viz. It is some- 
 times put for what is called a miraculous faith, i. e. 
 a persuasion in a person who was endowed with 
 miraculous gifts, that God would perform some 
 miracle, correspondent to some present impression 
 made on his mind, Matt. xvii. 20. Mark xi. 22, 23. 
 1 Cor. xiii. 2. Sometimes it signifies only an assent 
 to the truth of the Gospel, though perhaps ineffec- 
 tual ; in which sense it is taken in many passages 
 of the Epistle of James. Vid. Jam. ii. 14 — 2C. 
 Acts viii. 13. Sometimes an assent to the truth of 
 any proposition, whether the evidence of it were 
 that of testimony, reason, or sense. John xx. 8, 
 25, 29. Hcb. xi. 3. 
 
 Tillots. vol. iii. Serm. 165. p. 42S.t 
 
 PROPOSITION C.X.\XVII. 
 The Gospel absolutely requires such a faith as is 
 here defined, of all those who would partake of the 
 
 * The system of Dr. Taylor is fully cxpLiined in Ills Key to the 
 Apostolic \Vritin{j;«», prefixed to his paraphrase with notes on the 
 epistle to the Ronnans. In opposition to the Doctor's hvpothesis, there 
 is an article in the Theoloffical Repository, vol. iv. p. '>7. 
 
 + In a work, entitled Letters on Theroti aful Aspasia, is a larpc dis- 
 rii'^sirin of the nature of faith, in opposition to some notions which Mr. 
 James Hervey had advanced np<iii the snt>p>ct. Two other treatises, of 
 a more recent dale, arc Mr. Rotherham's IC^ay on Faith, and its Con- 
 nexion with good Works; and Mr. Dore's Letiers on Faith. 
 
44C 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 bcnolils of it ; and also makes a proinisi- of salva- 
 tion to all those in ^vilom such a faith is found. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Everlasting: life is in the Gospel promised to 
 believers, and appropriated to them, whatever the 
 import of that faith shall afterwards appear to be. 
 John iii. IG— 18, 3G. Mark xvi. 15, 16. Aets xvi. 31. 
 
 •2. That this faith implies a persuasion that (Christ 
 is the Messiah, or a person sent into the world, 
 under the eharacter of tiie Saviour of fallen man, 
 appears froni John xvi. 17. Acts viii. 37. Rom. iii. 
 22, 20, 27 ; iv. 24, 25 ; x. 9. 1 John iv. 15 ; v. 1. 
 
 3. It is evidently asserted in Scripture, that all 
 true believers receive Christ, and rejoice in him ; 
 that he is precious to them, 5c. John i. 12. Phil, 
 iii. 1. 1 Pet. ii. 7. and for this reason, believing; in 
 Christ is expressed by coming to him, John vi. 35. 
 and considering the etymology of the word ttkiq 
 from TTfrtvw, and especially the import of mrrivHv tv 
 Tivi, this seems to be the primary idea of faith, 
 though necessarily connected with the view given 
 of it in the last step, and in that wliicli follows, in 
 order to distinguish a true faith from such a pre- 
 sumption, as would aft'ront Christ rather than lionour 
 him. Compare 2 Tim. i. 12. 
 
 Watts's Divine Dispens. p. 64 ; Works, vol, ii. 
 p. 565, &c. 
 
 4. That no degree of persuasion, desire, ex- 
 pectation, or dependence, will be accepted of God, 
 without a firm and prevailing resolution of sincere 
 obedience, appears, not only from James ii. 14 — 26. 
 but also from all those passages which declare holi- 
 ness to be necessary in order to salvation, and 
 which pronounce a sentence of final condemnation 
 on all those who are disobedient to the truth ; as 
 Rom. ii. 8, 9. Heb. xii. 14. 2 Thess. i. 7—9. Malt, 
 vii. 21 — 23 ; all which would be utterly inconsistent 
 with those promises made to faith, yr. 1. if faith 
 did not imply such a prevailing resolution of holy 
 obedience. Compare Joiin iii. 36. (Greek.) 
 
 1 — 4. Def. 81. 5. Valet proposilio. 
 
 Limb. Theol. lib. v. c. viii. § 5. Burr, Worhs, 
 vol. ii. p. 46. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 They who represent faith as merely a firm per- 
 suasion that we ourselves are justified, or that Christ 
 particularly died fur us, do greatly misrepresent it, 
 and lead tlieir followers into a dangerous error ; not 
 to insist upon the contradiction in such a definition 
 of faith, w hich seems to imply that we must have 
 our interest in Christ revealed to us before we can 
 believe, and yet must believe before it can be re- 
 vealed to us ; unless that revelation were supposed 
 to have no foundation, or a person were allowed to 
 be justified while actually an unbeliever, — w hich is 
 directly contrary to the whole tenor of the Scrip- 
 tures mentioned above, and to many more which 
 
 declare the displeasure of God against the workers 
 of inicpiity, which all unbelievers are. 
 
 Will. Gosp. Tr. c. ix. p. 72 ; Woi-hs, vol. iii. 
 
 p. 80. Calv. Inst. lib. iii. e. ii. § 15, 16, 19. 
 
 Jiarr. Worhs, vol. ii. p. 50. Baxt. End of 
 
 Controv. e. xx. § 34. Truman's Mor. Jmpot. 
 
 p. 162. Grove on S<iv. Faith, p. 18. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Those who are received into the divine favour in 
 the method before described, can have no cause to 
 fjloi-y before God, it being matter of pure favour 
 that such a constitution should be established for 
 the salvation of sinful creatures. Eph. ii. 8, 9. 
 Rom. iii. 27 ; iv. 2—5 ; xi. 0. 
 
 Doddr. on Salv. hy Grace, p. 19. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It has been greatly debated. Whether faith be the 
 condition of our salvation ? If, by condition, be in- 
 tended something which is a valuable equivalent 
 for a benefit received, or something which is to be 
 performed entirely in our own strength, it is certain 
 that nothing done by us can merit that title, con- 
 sidering, on the one hand, the great and glorious 
 rewards of eternal happiness proposed in the Gos- 
 pel ; and, on the other, the weakness of our created, 
 and the degeneracy of our corrupted, nature ; but if 
 condition only signifies, as it generally does, some- 
 thing insisted upon, if we would receive a benefit, 
 and upon the performance of which we shall, in fact, 
 be entitled to that benefit, it is the very thing assert- 
 ed and proved in the proposition, that faith is in 
 this sense the condition of our salvation. Never- 
 theless, since so strong a prejudice is by many 
 weakly and foolishly imbibed against that phrase, 
 it may generallj' be matter of prudence to decline 
 it, since it can express no more than is expressed 
 by saying. That they w ho do believe, shall, and they 
 who do not, shall not, be saved ; which is so Scrip- 
 tural a manner of speaking that it offends none. 
 Wits. Econ. Fad. lib. iii. e. i. § 8, 9, &c. Will. 
 
 Gosp. Tr. c. viii. ; Worhs, vol. iii. p. 59. 
 
 3Iorris's Ser. vol. i. Grove, ubi sup. p. 58. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Much of the same kind with the former is that 
 question. Whether the Gospel consists merely of 
 promises, or whether it can in any sense be called « 
 law? The answer plainly depends upon adjusting 
 tlic meaning of the words yospel and law: if the 
 gospel be taken for the declaration God has made 
 to men by Christ concerning the manner in which 
 he will treat them, and the conduct he expects from 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 447 
 
 them, it is plain that this includes commands, and 
 even threateninys, as well as promises ; but to define 
 the Gospel so, as only to express the favourable 
 part of that declaration, is indeed taking the ques- 
 tion for granted, and confining the word to a sense 
 much less extensive than it often has in Scripture. 
 Compare Rom. ii. 16. 2Thess. i. 8. 1 Tim. i. 10, 11. 
 and it is certain, that if the Gospel be put for all 
 the parts of the dispensation taken in connexion 
 one with another, it may well be called on the whole, 
 a ()ood message, tvayytktov. In like manner, the 
 question. Whether the Gospel be a law or not ? is 
 to be determined by the definition of a law and of 
 the Gospel as above ; if law signifies, as it gene- 
 rally does, the discovery of the will of a superior, 
 teaching what he requires of those under his govern- 
 ment, with the intimation of his intention of dis- 
 pensing rewards and punishments, as this rule of 
 their conduct is observed or neglected, — in this 
 latitude of expression, it is plain from the proposi- 
 tion, that the Gospel, taken for the declaration made 
 to men by Christ, is a law, as in Scripture it is some- 
 times called (James i. 2o. Rom. iv. 15 ; v. 13 ; viii. 
 2.) ; but if law be taken in the greatest rigour of the 
 expression, for such a discovery of the will of God 
 and our duty, as contains in it no intimation of our 
 obtaining the divine favour, otherwise than by a 
 perfect and universal conformity to it, — in that 
 sense the Gospel is not a law, as appears likewise 
 from the proposition. 
 
 Wits, ubi sup. Williams' Gosp. Truth, p. 133 ; 
 Works, vol. iii. p. 343. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It has been denied that any who are already 
 Christians can be rationally exhorted to believe in 
 Christ ; and Dr. Whitby expressly says. There are 
 no instances of it in the New Testament ; but it is 
 to be considered, that faith is not any one act of the 
 mind to be performed once for all ; but it expresses 
 the temper which a man is to carry along with him 
 throughout his whole life. Compare Gal. ii. 20. 2 
 Cor. V. 7. and 1 Pet. ii. 4, 5, 7. and the more lively 
 the impressions and acts of it are, the more firmly 
 may we be said to believe ; or, in other words, there 
 may be different degrees of this faith ; and conse- 
 quently it is not an absurd or unprofitable thing to 
 address to those who have already believed, for the 
 establishment and increase of their faith ; as it ap- 
 pears the apostles did, .John xx. 31. 1 .John v. 13. 
 Comp. .John xi. 15 ; xiii. 19 ; xiv. 1 . 29. Eph. iii. 17. 
 Whitby on New Test. vol. ii. p. 296. Grove, 
 ubi sup. p. 146. ad Jin. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is further questioned. How far faith can be 
 said, as Rom. iv. 5. to be imputed for righteousness, 
 if it be by the righteousness of Christ imputed to us, 
 that wc are justified, as was asserted before. Prop. 
 
 136. Cor. 2. To this some have answered. That 
 faith is there put for the object of faith, as hope is 
 for the object of hope, Jer. xiv. 8. Heb. vi. 18. 1 
 Tim. i. 1. and fear for the object of fear, Gen. xxxi. 
 53. and this solution is maintained by 
 
 Rawl. on Just. p. 209. Guyse in Loc. 
 We answer, That any thing may be said to be im- 
 puted to us for righteousness, or in order to our jus- 
 tification, which, being as it were set down to our 
 account, serves in any degree as the means of our 
 justification, as faith evidently does, though not by 
 virtue of its own merit and excellency, but with re- 
 gard to the righteousness of Christ, on the account 
 of which God is pleased thus graciously to regard 
 it ; or, as Witsius states it, " Faith is set down to 
 our account in the book of God, as an evidence that 
 we are in the number of those who, by the righteous- 
 ness of Christ, according to the tenor of the Gospel, 
 are to be justified." 
 
 Wits. Econ. Feed. lib. iii. c. viii. § 56. Wil- 
 liams's Gospel Tr. c. xii. p. 102. Dod. on 
 Salv. by Gr. p. 13. Brine's Effic. of Christ's 
 Death. Grove, ubi sup. p. 140. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It has been questioned. How far the precepts re- 
 quiring faith in the Gospel, on the penalty of dam- 
 nation, can be supposed to extend ? As to the 
 Heathens, we shall briefly consider their ease in 
 the eighth scholium. It seems this declaration must 
 at least extend to those who have an opportunity 
 of inquiring into the truth of Christianity, and who 
 may, by an honest inquiry, attain to satisfaction in 
 the truth of it. If there be any adult person in a 
 Christian country, who, not by his own fault, but 
 by the circumstances in which Providence has 
 placed him, lies under difficulties absolutely invin- 
 cible, it is as rational to suppose God will allow 
 for such, as for the ignorance of infants ; but where 
 persons have genius and opportunity to inquire, it 
 is hard to imagine how their dilTieulties should be 
 invincible, unless we suppose that God has left the 
 Christian religion in such circumstances, that those 
 who inquire most fully into its evidence, with the 
 greatest sincerity and impartiality, may not see suf- 
 ficient reason to embrace it, which is utterly incre- 
 dible (compare John vii. 17.) ; so that the case of 
 most infidels in Christian countries must l)e exceed- 
 ing dangerous ; and consequently the denunciation 
 (Mark xvi. 16.) must not be limited to those who 
 heard the apostles preach, and saw their miracles, 
 as some suppose. 
 
 Watts on Infid. S 3. Q. vii. p. 83 ; Works, vol. 
 
 ii. p. 502. Welst. Con. of Prov. p. 131. 
 
 Barker's Sermons, \ol. ii. p. 147. Grove on 
 
 Saving Faith, p. 87. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 The damnatory sentence which Cliristianity pro- 
 
448 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 nounces on those who reject it lias been iirped as in 
 itself a most unreasonable tliinj?. since faith de- 
 pends not upon ourselves, but on the degree of evi- 
 dence in tlie tilings to be believed. 
 Hut lo this it may be answered, 
 
 1. That it evidently appears from Dcf. 82. that 
 faith is not merely the assent of the vnderstundhi;/ 
 to a speculative truth, but implies our reposing 
 such a conlidence in Christ, and holding our souls 
 ill such a subjection to liini, as depends upon the 
 liuniaii tcill as much as any disposition and action 
 of the mind, both as to the impartiality of inquiring, 
 and the manner of acting, when evidence is pro- 
 posed and apprehended. Comp. Isa. xxix. 13, 14. 
 Dan. xii. it). Matt. vi. 23; xi. 25; xiii. 11, 12. 
 John iii. 19; v. 44. 1 Cor. ii. 14. 2 Cor. iv. 4. 
 2 Tim. iii. 13. Whist. Princ. of Re/. Pre/. 
 
 2. That there is in general no absurdity in sup- 
 posing, that a divine revelation may be attended 
 with a sentence of condemnation against those who 
 reject it, since it is certain, God may contrive an 
 evidence which he knows to be reasonably sufficient 
 for the conviction of every one to whom it is ad- 
 dressed, and on that supposition may condemn 
 those who will not submit to it; which, if he has 
 determined to do, it is wise and gracious in him to 
 add such a threatening ; and indeed, on the whole, 
 it is most probable that this will be the case with 
 regard to every revelation whatever. 
 
 3. That these general reasonings have peculiar 
 weight when applied to Christianity, considering 
 the representation which Scripture makes of the 
 degree of its evidence ; the nature and circum- 
 stances of the scheme itself, bringing the guilty 
 creature such important blessings in so extraordi- 
 nary a way ; the manner in which it was introduced, 
 and the difficulties it was to struggle with, which 
 required such strong sanctions. 
 
 Dodd. Ans. to Chris, not four), on Arc/, p. 28. 
 Watts, on Infid. p. 42. Tayl. on Rom. iii. 
 10. p. 265. Butl. Anal. c. vi. p. 228. Grove, 
 uhi sup. p. 130. Morris's Serin, vol. i. No. 
 iii. Bulk. Econ. of the Gospel, lib. 5. 
 SCHOLIl'M 7. 
 
 It is a question of the utmost difficulty. How 
 much of the Gospel must be believed in order to 
 salvation, or, in other words, what articles of faith 
 .are fundamental ? To this some have answered, by 
 saying. It is only fundamental to believe that the 
 Scriptures are the word of God, and that all things 
 contained therein are true ; but this answer is 
 liable to a double objection ; as, on the one hand, it 
 supposes it absolutely necessary that every man 
 .should believe both the plenary inspiration, an<l the 
 extent of it to all the books of Scripture, which can 
 never be proved to be a thing absolutely required ; 
 on the other hand, such an implicit belief of this 
 might be consistent with the ignorance of, and mis- 
 
 takes about, many of the most important doctrines 
 of Christianity ; and therefore this will determine 
 nothing in regard to the main question ; though it 
 may be indeed admitted, that where a person is 
 possessed of such a belief, and appears not to con- 
 tradict it by gross errors, it may be expedient, to 
 avoid endless disputes, for Christian societies to 
 acquiesce in suc^h a declaration, rather than to in- 
 sist upon others more critical. Mr. Locke, and 
 many others with him, maintain that the only fun- 
 damental of Christianity is, that Christ is the Mes- 
 siah ; but here a question arises concerning the 
 extent of these words ; perhaps it may be sufficient 
 to answer it by saying, That wherever there ap- 
 peared to be such a persuasion of the dignity of 
 Christ's person, and the extent of his power, as 
 should encourage men to commit their souls to his 
 care, and to subject them to his government, those 
 who professed such a persuasion were admitted to 
 baptism by the apostles, and ought to be owned as 
 Christians; and it seems necessary in the general 
 to acquiesce in some such determination ; for the 
 demand of drawing up a list of fundamentals, i. e. 
 of doctrines without the belief of which none can be 
 saved, seems to be founded on a mistaken suppo- 
 sition, that the same things are fundamental to all ; 
 whereas according to persons' diiTerent capacities 
 and opportunities of inquiry, that may be funda- 
 mental to one (i. e. necessary to be believed by him, 
 in order to approve the general sincerity of his 
 heart before God) which is not so to another. 
 
 Turret, on Fundam. Locke's Jteas. of Christ. 
 
 vol. ii. p. 74. Bennet's Irenic. p. 54. Baxt. 
 
 Saints' R. c. iii. Chilling. Safe Way, c. ii. 
 
 iii. Rym. on Rev. lib. i. c. x. p. 253. More 
 
 on Fundamentals, passim. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 It has been much disputed. Whether it be possi- 
 ble that the Heathens should be saved ? Some have 
 absolutely denied it, upon the authority of the texts 
 mentioned in the proposition, which universally 
 require faith in Christ ; but to this it is answered, 
 That they can only regard such to whom the Gos- 
 pel comes, and are capable of understanding the 
 contents of it. The truth seems to be this. That 
 none of the Heatliens will be condemned for not 
 believing the Gospel ; but they are liable to con- 
 demnation for the breach of God's natural law; 
 nevertheless, if there be any of them in whom there 
 is a prevailing love to the Divine Being, and care 
 in the practice of virtue, there seems reason to be- 
 lieve that, for the sake of Christ, though to them 
 unknown, they may be accepted by God: and so 
 much the rather, as the ancient Jews, and even the 
 apostles of Christ, during the lime of our Saviour's 
 abode upon earth, seem to have had but little no- 
 tion of those doctrines, which those who deny the 
 salvability of the Heathens are most apt to imagine 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 440 
 
 fundamental. Compare Rom. ii. 10, &c. 26. Acts 
 X. 34, 35. Matt. viii. 11, 12. to which may be added 
 I John ii. 2. which Mr. Rymer supposes inten- 
 tionally decisive on this question, as to the appli- 
 cation of Christ's merits to all virtuous men, who 
 may not have opportunities of hearing of his name. 
 Some also add John i. 29. 
 
 Rym. Rep. of Rev. Rel. c. V. p. 88. Scott's 
 Chr. Life, vol. ii. p. 265. Owen on Sji. p. 
 535. Tayl. Key to Rom. p. 104. Tun: Loc. 
 vol. i. Q. iv. Baxt. Saints' Rest, p. 1. c. viii. 
 § 2. Mede's Works, p. 166. Ba.vt. Works, 
 vol. iii. p. 846. Bare. Apol. p. 181. Str. 
 and Weakn. of Hum. Reus. p. 264. Watts's 
 Works, vol. ii. p. 303. John Goodie. Pagans' 
 Debt and Dowry. Brekell's Sermons, p. 12. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXXVIII. 
 To take a brief survey of what seems most im- 
 portant in the late controversy, especially between 
 Dr. Foster and Dr. Stebbing, concerning heresy.* 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. It seems to be agreed on both sides, That 
 Christians are to be concerned that they maintain 
 the purity of the faith as delivered in the Scrip- 
 tures ; and that in proportion to the degree in 
 which any particular error is apprehended to be 
 pernicious, it is to be discouraged, and by all ra- 
 tional and Christian methods opposed, by private 
 persons and religious societies, Rom. xvi. 17. 1 Tim. 
 i. 19, 20. 2 Tim. ii. 16—18. Jude ver. 3. 2 John ver. 
 10, 11. 
 
 2. Nevertheless, the frequent e?thortations that 
 every where occur in Scripture to maintain mutual 
 candour and love towards each other, should teach 
 us to use the greatest tenderness on this head, and 
 will oblige us to put the kindest construction on 
 the different expressions, and even the mistakes, of 
 our fellow-Christians, that we rationally can. See 
 the texts quoted at the end ofj Turretine on Fun- 
 damentals. 
 
 Doddridge's Sermon on Christian Candour. 
 
 3. When these two points are allowed, if the 
 question be, what those peculiar errors are which 
 are to be discountenanced, .so as to refuse acts of 
 religious communion with those that hold them ? 
 
 , "the question is much the same with that of the fun- 
 damentals of Christianity treated of before: if it be. 
 Whether persons censured and avoided as errone- 
 ous are to be called heretics, or are so called in 
 
 • De.iii Tucker, in his Two Letters to Dr. Kinpis, has taken the 
 line ground with Dr. Stebbing. 
 
 2 G 
 
 Scripture ? it is only then a debate concerning the 
 particular use of a word, which indeed is the chief 
 thing that seems in question between the two ac- 
 curate and ingenious writers mentioned above; and 
 with regard to that, it may be remarked, 
 
 (1.) That the word aipjirtj, from aiQeui, eligo, seems 
 to answer most exactly to the English word sect, 
 and consequently though it may sometimes admit of 
 an indifferent signification, is generally taken in an 
 ill sense : so it certainly is in Gal. v. 20. (compare 
 2 Pet. ii. 1.) and though some have disputed it, yet 
 it seems on the whole most probably to bear such a 
 sense in 1 Cor. xi. 19. Acts xxiv. 5, 14 ; xxviii. 22. 
 but the last instance seems the most doubtful. 
 
 (2.) It seems dubious whether heresy does, in the 
 New Testament, signify any thing different from a 
 high degree of schism, or breaking the peace of the 
 church by uncharitable divisions and separations. 
 The chief place where any pretend to find a differ- 
 ence is 1 Cor. xi. 19. compared with ver. 18. but 
 if the word koi, in the 19th verse, be supposed only 
 an expletive, the argument which is drawn from 
 thence is certainly inconclusive ; or the two words 
 may only express different degrees of the same 
 thing. 
 
 (3.) Nevertheless, we acknowledge that, in the 
 early ages of the church, the word Heretic signified 
 those who erred in fundamentals, or doctrines 
 reckoned of the greatest importance ; and Schism- 
 atics were those who separated from others with a 
 regard to discipline onlj'. 
 
 Suic. Thcs. vol. i. Col. 120 and 124, on the 
 words. 
 
 4. It is further questioned, Whether a heretic, in 
 St. Paul's sense, (Tit. iii. 10, 11.) is one who, con- 
 trary to his conviction, maintains any doctrine in 
 debate ; or whether it may take in the case of one 
 who is mistaken in his judgment. Dr. Foster, fol- 
 lowing Dr. Whitby, is of the first of these opinions ; 
 and would infer from it, that as none can ordinarily 
 tell who is self-condemned without the gift of dis- 
 cerning spirits, the use of this rule was peculiar to 
 the apostles' time. His chief argument is, not so 
 much that such a person is said to sin, but that he 
 is said to be avroKaraicpiTo^ ; which he supposes must 
 signify condemned hy his own conscience. But Dr. 
 Stebbing thinks the meaning is, that such a person 
 does not, like many other offenders, study to conceal 
 his crime, and thereby oblige others to prove it, but 
 that openly declaring and maintaining Jiis s(-nti- 
 ments, he is accused and condemned out of his own 
 mouth. Compare Heb. xi. 7. Matt. xii. 41, 42, 
 Acts xiii. 46. where persons are said to be con- 
 demned by those who furnish out matter for their 
 condemnation. Compare also Job xv. 6. Luke 
 xix. 22. It is a strong objection against Dr. Fos- 
 ter's scheme, that the truth or falsehood of the doc- 
 trine professed, has, upon his principles, nothing 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 to do with Uio question o'l a person's bein;j; a /irre- 
 tic ; but the most orthodox professor mi^ht be con- 
 demned under this view, if by a secret revelation, 
 or otherwise, it should be manifested that he was a 
 Deist; whereas in this case, all the world woiihl 
 own he was condemned for infideUty, or for knavery, 
 rather than /leresi/. 
 
 6. Some have ur<icd, that if this text refers to 
 the case of those wlio actually separated themselves 
 from the ehurch upon the account of Jewish cere- 
 monies, which the context favours, they mit^ht be 
 said to condemn or pass sentence on themselves, as 
 by their separation they justified the conduct of the 
 church in exeludinp: them from their communion ; 
 but there sccnis no necessity for having recourse to 
 this interpretation. 
 
 Fost. and Steb. on Hercstf. Jiuxt. on Tit. iii. 
 
 10. Whit, and Ham. in Loc. Locke's \st 
 
 Let. on To/crat. Grove's Post. Works, vol. 
 
 iv. Oh Terms of Commiin. Bens, on the 
 
 Epist. vol. i. p. 440. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXIV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Mr. Hallet's notion of heresy is, that there is only 
 a (/»-rtf/«nZ difference between schism and heresy, and 
 that schisms grow up into heresies when separations 
 are occasioned : all heretics are therefore sectaries ; 
 and no doctrine alone can constitute a person a hci-e- 
 tic. Sects in the Christian church are evils, and 
 wherever there is a needless and contentious sepa- 
 ration, there is somewhere a guilt. The only rule, 
 he says, to determine which is heresy in all places 
 and all ages, is the declaration which God has 
 made in Scripture of the terms of acceptance with 
 him ; and when any thing more than this is insisted 
 upon, in order to continue communion, there is the 
 guilt of heresy on that side which insists on those 
 unnecessary and unscriptural things. On this 
 foundation, he concludes that the Pope is the chief 
 heretic in the world, and others in proportion to the 
 usurpation of an authority not given by Christ ; and 
 adds, that wicked men can from him have no au- 
 thority in the church at all. 
 
 Hallet's Disc. vol. iii. p. 358. Manne's Critical 
 Notes on Gal. i. 8, 9. p. 81 . 
 
 sen o LI I'M 2. 
 
 Some have also objected, as a defect in Christi- 
 anity, that there is no infallible rule wliercby exactly 
 to judge what heresy is, though it be so expressly 
 condemned, — supposing it to signify such an error 
 as exposes a man to the regular censure of his 
 (Christian brethren. — It is answered. That a scheme 
 of doctrine is laid down in Scripture, to which all 
 
 are obliged to assent, so far as they can understand 
 it. Men may indeed mistake in the sense of these 
 rules; and how far these mistakes are important, 
 particular persons and particular societies arc to 
 judge for themselves : and though it is a necessary 
 consequence of tiiis, that some will disapprove the 
 determination of societies, as well as the opinion of 
 private persons, yet this is an imperfection of hu- 
 man nature for wliich tlicrc could be no imaginable 
 remedy, unless it were to make every man infallible ; 
 for whatever decisions were given, and whatever 
 living judge were to interpret these decisions, there 
 would still be room for putting various senses even 
 upon these interpretations themselves. And if men 
 do not proceed to hate and persecute those whom 
 they think erroneous, the consequences of men's 
 thus condemning each other for mere mental errors 
 will not be very important: and probably leaving 
 the matter in this latitude will, on the whole, be 
 attended with fewer inconveniences than any othei 
 scheme whatsoever; and it may deserve serious 
 consideration, whether the way of arguing in the 
 objection may not also affect Christ's rule, (Matt, 
 xviii. 15 — IB.) and indeed all other rules and laws, 
 human or divine, in the interpretation or applica- 
 tion of which it is certain fallible men may err. 
 
 Lett, to Stchb. in Land. Muy.for 1735, p. 542. 
 
 SCHOLIL'M 3. 
 
 Some have thought the only remedy for the 
 above-mentioned defects would be, to introduce 
 some human form as a standard of orthodoxy, 
 wherein certain disputed doctrines shall be ex- 
 pressed in such determinate phrases, as may be 
 directly levelled against such errors as shall prevail 
 from time to time, requiring those especially who 
 are to be public teachers in the church to sub.seribe, 
 or virtually to declare their assent to such formu- 
 laries. On this head we may observe, 
 
 1. Had this been requisite, it is probable the 
 Scriptures would have given us some such formu- 
 laries as these, or some directions as to the manner 
 in which they should be drawn up, proposed, and 
 received. 
 
 2. It is impossible that weak and passionate men, 
 who have perhaps been heated in the very contro- 
 versy thus decided, should express themselves with 
 greater propriety than the apostles did. 
 
 3. It is plain, in fact, that this practice has been 
 the cause of great contention in the Christian 
 churcli ; and sucli formularies have been the grand 
 engine of dividing it, in proportion to the degree in 
 which they have been multiplied and urged. 
 
 4. This is laying a great temptation in the way of 
 such as desire to undertake the office of teachers in 
 the church, and will be most likely to deter and 
 afflict those who have the greatest tenderness of 
 conscience, and therefore ( cat. par.) best deserve 
 encouragement. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 5. It is not likely to answer the end proposed, 
 viz. the preserving a uniformity of opinion,— since 
 persons of little integrity may perhaps satisfy their 
 consciences in subscribing what they do not at all 
 believe, as articles of peace, or in putting the most 
 unnatural sense on the words. And whereas, in 
 answer to all these inconveniences it is pleaded, 
 that such forms are necessary to keep the church 
 from heresy ; and it is better there should be some 
 hypocrites under such forms of orthodoxy, than 
 that a freedom of debate and opinion should be 
 allowed to zl\ teachers, the answer is plain ; that 
 when any one begins to preach doctrines, which 
 appear to those who attend upon him dangerous 
 and subversive of Christianity, it will be time 
 enough to proceed to such an animadversion as the 
 nature of his error, in their apprehension, will 
 require, and his relation to them will admit. 
 
 Dunl. Pre/, to Scot. Confes. vol. i. p. 52. 
 
 Evans's Script. Standard. Hnlcs's Tracts, 
 
 p. 28. Conyh. 6 Serm. Chand. on Siihsc. 
 
 Burn. Hist, of his Times, p. fi34. Powcl on 
 
 iSubsc* 
 
 SCHOLK'M 4. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is vcrj' consistent « illi w hat wc 
 have said under the preceding scholium, tliat voluti- 
 tary societies should demand such satisfaction as 
 they shall, on serious inquiry, think fit, of the ortho- 
 doxy of one who is to minister among them : nor 
 can this be said to intrench at all upon Christian 
 liberty, and the right of private judgment, since 
 e\ery pri\ate Christian has the same rigiit of judg- 
 ing who is fit to teach him, as every teacher has of 
 judging for himself what is the true Christian doc- 
 trine. And the like may be said with respect to 
 ministers, when desired to concur in any solemn 
 act, by which they are to declare their approbation 
 of the admission of any particular person to that 
 oflice. Confessional, c. ii. p. 30. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXV. 
 
 PROPOSITION LXXXIII. 
 Any degree of divine influence on the mind, in- 
 I dining it to believe in Christ and to practise virtue, 
 is called grace. 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 There are in Scripture many other senses of the 
 word tjracc, which docs in the general signify any 
 
 * The writers in opposition to, and in favour of, subscription to 
 articles of religion, are referred to under the first scholium to the fifty, 
 sixth proposition of this Work. See p. 290, note. Not to mention 
 incidental publications, the matter has been amply considered in the 
 I four controversies occasioned by the Confessional, the Clergy's Applica- 
 tion to Parliament, the Dissenting Ministers' Application to Parlia. 
 ment, and the Attempts to obtain the Repeal of the Corporation and 
 Test Acts. To vindicate subscription is one design of the Uampton 
 Lecture; and the subject has not been forgotten by the preachers. 
 
 2 G 2 
 
 favour of God freely besfowcd upon his creatures : 
 compare 1 Cor. x. 30. 2 Cor. viii. 4, 5. Eph. iv. 7. 
 but forasmuch as those which relate to the improve- 
 ment of their temper, and their fitness for final 
 happiness, are favours of the greatest importance, 
 this name is, by way of eminence, applied to them, 
 as we shall show in what follows. 
 
 Clarlie's Posth. Serm. vol. ii. p. 265. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXIV. 
 The communication of grace given to any soul in 
 such a degree, as actually to bring that soul to faith 
 in Christ, and consequently into a state of salvation, 
 may properly be called special grace. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Special grace is the work of tlie Spirit of God, 
 Tit. iii. 5, 6. Gal, iv. 6 ; v. 18, 22. Rom. v. 5 ; viii. 
 9, 13, 14. 2 Cor. iii. 3 ; v. 5, to which may be add- 
 ed 2 Thess. ii. 13. and many other texts, several of 
 wliich will be mentioned under the following pro- 
 position. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXV. 
 Those divine influences, which leave the mind 
 short of faith and sincere obedience, may be called 
 COMMON grace; but those introduce special, 
 
 though they do not yet amount to it, may, with 
 respect to that introduction, be called prepara- 
 tory. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXXXIX. 
 All those who do indeed believe in Christ, and in 
 the main practise virtue, are to ascribe it not merely 
 or chiefly to their own wisdom and goodness, but 
 to the special operation of divine grace upon their 
 sotils, as the original cause of it. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1 . None can deny that God has such an access to 
 the minds of men, that he can work upon tliem in 
 what manner he pleases : and there is great reason 
 to believe, that his secret influence on the mind 
 gives a turn to many of the most important events 
 relating to particular persons and societies, Prov. 
 xxi. i. as it is evident many of the public revo- 
 lutions mentioned in the Old Testament are ascribed 
 to this cause. Ezra i. 1. 
 
 Rel. of Nat. delin. p. J 05. 
 
 2. Thougli the mind of man be not invincibly 
 determined by motives, yet in matters of great im- 
 portance it is not determined without them ; and it 
 is reasonable to believe, that where a person goes 
 through those difliculties which attend faith <uid 
 obedience, he must have a very lively view of the 
 great engagements to them, and probably upon the 
 whole a more lively view than another, who in the 
 same circumstances in all other respects acts in a 
 diflerent manner. 
 
 Prop. 32. 3. Whatever instruments are made 
 use of as the means of making such powerful im- 
 
452 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 prossions on the iiiiiul, llio cdicary of them is to be 
 asciibed to the eontiiuial agency of the first cause. 
 
 I — 3. 4. The prevalence of virtue and piety in 
 the eliureli is to be ascribed to God^ as tlic jjreat 
 original Author, even upon the principles of natural 
 religion. 
 
 a. Good men in Scripture, who appear best to 
 liave understood the nature of God and his conduct 
 towards men, and who wrote under the influence 
 and inspiration of his Spirit, frequently oflcr up 
 sucli petitions to God, as show that they believed 
 the reality and importance of his gracious agency 
 upon the heart to promote piety and virtue. Paal. 
 li. 10—12; xxxix. 4; xc. 12; cxix. 12, 18,27, 
 33—37, 73, 80, 133. 1 Chron. xxix. 18, 19. Eph. i. 
 IG, &c. Col. i. 9—11, ft sim. 
 
 G. God promises to produce such a (change in tlie 
 hearts of those to whom the otlicr valuable blessings 
 of his word are promised, as plainly implies, that 
 the alteration made in their temper and character 
 is to be looked upon as his work. Deut. xxx. 6. 
 Psal. ex. 3. Jer. xxxi. 33 ; xxxii.39, 40. Ezek. xi. 
 19, 20; xxxvi. 26, 27. Compare Heb. viii. 8 — 13. 
 
 7. The Scripture expressly declares, in many 
 places, that the work of faith in the soul is to be 
 ascribed to God, and describes the chanyc made in 
 a man's heart when he becomes truly religious in 
 such language, as must lead the mind to some 
 strength superior to our own, by which it is eftect- 
 ed : John i. 13; iii. 3, 5, G. Acts xi. 18 ; xvi. 14. 
 2 Cor. iii. 3. Eph. i. 19, 20 ; ii. 1, 10 ; iv. 24. Phil, 
 i. 29. Col. i. 11, 12; ii. 12, 13. Vid. James i. 18. 
 2 Tim. ii. 25. To this catalogue we scruple not to 
 add Eph. ii. 8. though some have objected that rsro 
 cannot refer to Triorfwc ; since the like change of 
 genders is often to be found in the New Testament. 
 Compare Acts xxiv. 16; xxvl. 17. Phil. i. 28. 
 1 John ii. 8. Gal. iii. IG ; iv. 19. Matt. vi. uh. ; 
 xxviii. 18. Rom. ii. 14. 
 
 Eisner's Obs. vol. i. p. 128. Raphcl. Ohs. cx 
 Herod, in Matt, xxviii. 19. Glassii Op. 1. 
 iii. Tract, ii. de pr. Can. xvi. p. ,024. 
 
 8. The increase of Christians in faith and piety 
 is spoken of as the work of God ; which must more 
 strongly imply that the first beginnings of it are to 
 be ascribed to him. Psal. exix. 32. Phil. i. 6 ; ii. 
 13. 1 Cor. vii. 25; iii. 7 ; iv. 7 ; xv. 10. 2 Cor. v. 
 5. Ileb. xiii. 20, 21. 1 Pet. v. 10. Jude 24, 25. 
 
 9. The Scripture does expressly assert the abso- 
 lute necessity of such divine influences on the 
 mind, in order to faith and holiness, and speaks of 
 God's giving them to one while he withholds them 
 from another, as the great reason of the difference 
 to be found in the characters of difl'erent men in 
 this important respect. Deut. xxix. 4. Matt, xi.25, 
 26. John vi. 44 — 46; xii. 39, 40. Rom. ix. 18—23. 
 
 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. 10. It appears probable from the 
 light of nature, and certain from the word of God, 
 
 that faith and repentance are ultimately to be 
 ascribed to the work of special grace upon the 
 hearts of men. Q, E. D. 
 
 Lime-st. Lcc. vol. ii. p. 242. Tillot. W. vol. ii. 
 
 p. 80. Limb. Tlieol. I. iv. c. xiv. Brandt's 
 
 Hist, of the Ref. vol. ii. p. 75. Jort. 6 Diss. 
 
 No. 1. Warb. Doc. of Grace. Fast. Serm. 
 
 vol. ii. p. 104.* 
 
 LECTURE CLXXVI. 
 
 COROLLAUY 1. 
 
 We may learn with what dependence Gospel 
 ministers should undertake their work, and to what 
 they should ascribe the success of it. 1 Cor. iii. 4; 
 and XV. 10. Somes' s Fun. Serm. for Mr. Sunnd. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Those who arc finally brought to faith, repentance, 
 and salvation, have great reason to acknowledge the 
 divine goodness to them, and no room to boast of 
 themselves. 1 Cor. i. 29, 30. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 It is a gross mistake to assert, as some have done, 
 that grace never signifies the operation of God upon 
 men's minds, but only intimates his gracious accept- 
 ance of their repentance, brought about ly the 
 motives and assistance of the Gospel, i. e. as it must 
 here mean, by the discovery of the Christian scheme. 
 Compare Acts xiv. 26 ; xv. 40 ; xviii. 27 ; 1 Cor. xv. 
 10; 2 Cor. i. 12. Heb. iv. 16. Gal. vi. 18. in all 
 which places, and many more, grace makes very 
 good sense, if taken for a divine operation on the 
 heart, which on the interpretation opposed it would 
 by no means do : and it may further be observed, 
 that when grace is used to express moral virtues 
 and good dispositions in our hearts, they are so 
 called, not merely, or chiefly, as recommending us 
 to the divine favour, but as produced by divine 
 influence, though still working in a manner suited 
 to the freedom of our nature. Compare Eph. iv. 29. 
 2 Pet. iii. 18. 2 Cor. viii. 1, G, 7. 
 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lec. p. 328. Balguy's Serm, 
 vol. ii. p. 3G1. Lardn. Serm. p. 297. • 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 They are greatly mistaken who assert. That the 
 assi.stances of God's Spirit were peculiar to the 
 primitive ages : and who interpret such texts as 
 those quoted above, merely of a miraculous agency 
 on the apostles and primitive Christians. See the 
 
 * In l/W, Br. Thomas Edw.irds, of Coventry, publisliej a work, 
 entitled Tlie Doi-lrinc of Irresistible Grace proved to have no fonnda- 
 tioii in the Writing's of the New Testament —In treatin"; upon this 
 subjcet, the autlKir pnrsues the plan which had been adopted by Clarke 
 on the Trinity, Hoadley on the Sacrament, and Sykes on lledemption, 
 of arranpinp every text of Scripture that was supposed to relate to llie 
 point in i|Ueslioii. See al«o Mr. Ludlam's Two F.'says on Ju.stifica- 
 tion, and the Iiillurnce? of the Holy Spirit. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 453 
 
 Scriptures under Def. 84. Cor. and Benson on the 
 texts quoted above. 
 
 Whithij OH New Test. vol. ii. p. 283. BulMeys 
 Econ. of the Gosp. iii. 3, 4.* 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 Forasmuch as gratitude is so powerful a principle 
 in human nature ; and the obligations arising from 
 the divine goodness in imparting special grace to 
 believers are so high and important, it must be the 
 duty of those who preach the Gospel, to lead their 
 people diligently to reflect upon it, and to appear 
 themselves under an affectionate sense of its value 
 and excellency. 
 
 COROLLARY 6. 
 
 On the principles of the proposition it will ap- 
 pear proper, that the distinction between the reffc- 
 nerate and unregeneratc should be kept up in 
 preaching ; and though there be some, on whom 
 divine grace has wrought so early, that perhaps it is 
 difficult to find a time, from the first dawning of 
 reason, when thty did not appear iu the main under 
 the influences of it, yet such instances are compara- 
 tively few; and as those early good dispositions 
 must appear to be in a peculiar manner the work of 
 God's Spirit, considering the strength of appetite 
 and passion in children, and the weakness of reason, 
 it would be extremely wrong to exempt such out 
 of the class of the regenerate, and to confine the 
 phrase to those who have been reclaimed from a 
 vicious and immoral course. 
 
 Sharp's Serm. vol. iii. p. 290. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 As it appears that, by the corruption of our na- 
 ture, the whole symmetry of it is broken, it has 
 generally been maintained by those who assert the 
 doctrine in tlie proposition. That divine grace may 
 work, not only by enlightening the understanding 
 and awakening the afl'ections, — but also by some 
 immediate influences upon the tiill, in order to 
 restore that harmony of all the faculties in which 
 the perfection of our nature consists ; and many 
 have thought that the body, as well as the mind, 
 may be the subject of such divine operations. 
 Compare 1 Thess. v. 23. and Def. 26. Cor. 2. Prop. 
 17. Cor. hut it is extremely difficult to conceive of 
 the distinction in all its branches ; and it does not 
 seem of so much importance as some have thought. 
 
 Foster's Serm. vol. ii. p. 96. 
 SCHOLIIM 2. 
 
 As to the manner in which divine grace operates 
 upon the mind, considering how little it is we know 
 of the nature and constitution of our own souls, and 
 of the frame of nature around us, it is no wonder 
 
 * The oi)inioii, Iiowcvcr, tliat tl\e assist.inccs of God's Spirit victc 
 pcdili.ir to the apostolic times, ,-ind refer to the i xtraorilinary works 
 and (fifts of tliose times, lias been maintained hy some Scripture e ritits. 
 See [)r. Priestley's Sermon on llie Doctrine of the Divine Inlluc ncc on 
 the Human Mind, in liis Discourses on various Subjects; and an article 
 conccrninK the Apostolical Benediction, published' in the first volume 
 of Commentaries and Essays, p. III. 
 
 that it should be unaccountable to us (John iii. 8.) ; 
 perhaps, it may often be, by impelling tlie animal 
 spirits or nerves, in such a manner as is proper to 
 excite certain, ideas in the mind with a degree of 
 vivacity, which they would not otherwise have had. 
 By this means varioits passions are excited ; but the 
 great motives addressed to gratitude and love seem 
 generally, if not always, to operate upon the will 
 more powerfully than any other, which many 
 divines have therefore chosen to express by the 
 phrase of delectatio vietrix. Compare Deut. xxx. 
 6. Psal. cxix. 16, 20, 32, 47, 48, 97, 103. Psal. xix. 
 10, 11. Rom. vii. 22. 1 John iv. 18, 19. Rom. v. 5. 
 Le Blanc's Thes. p. 527. Burn's Life of Roch. 
 p. 43. Bare. Apol. p. 148. Scougal's Works, 
 p. 6. Seed's Serm. vol. i. p. 291. King's 
 Origin of Evil, p. 71. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXVII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It enters into the definition of speeial grace. That 
 it is never on the whole finally rejected, so as to fail 
 of working faith in those who are the happy objects 
 of it ; but there is a great controversy. Whether 
 these operations be in their own nature irresistible 
 or not ? — or, in other words. Whether it was possible 
 that those who in consequence of it do believe, 
 should, in these circumstances, have continued in 
 their infidelity, and finally have rejected tlie-Gospcl ? 
 To prove that special grace is irresistible, the fol- 
 lowing arguments have chiefly been insisted upon : — 
 
 1. That the Scripture represents men as by nature 
 in a condition entirely helpless. Compare Eph. ii. 
 1. Luke iv. 18. Acts xxvi. 18. Rom. viii. 7. 
 
 2. That the action of God in the conversion of a 
 sinner is described in such terms, as plainly to 
 show it is invincible ; v.g. by raising from the dead, 
 by giving a new heart, by writing the law of God in 
 the soul, &c. Compare Prop. 139. gr. 5, 6. But to 
 both these arguments it is answered. That they are 
 figurative expressions, which are not to be inter- 
 preted in the utmo.st rigour : that they do indeed 
 intimate a strong disinclination in men to faith and 
 repentance, and a powerful, but not therefore irre- 
 sistible, operation of God upon the mind. Compare 
 Rom. vi. 2. 1 John iii. 9. and other texts of the 
 like import. 
 
 3. It is said. That if special grace were nqMrre- 
 sistible, then it would be uncertain whctlicr any 
 would believe or no, and conseciuently possible that 
 all which Cluist had done and sufl'ered in the work 
 of redemption might have been done and sulfercd 
 in vain. To this it is answered. That the event may 
 be certain where it is not necessary, orothcrwise there 
 
4bi 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 run be no foiiiulalion for a certain foreknow lodge 
 of future contingencies, wliieh tliose who ninintain 
 this doctrine of irresistible grace do generally grant. 
 This likewise will answer the argii-ncnts brought 
 from those Scriptures, in which conversion to God 
 is made the subject of a divine protiiise. Those wlio 
 are on the other side of the question allow, tliat in 
 some instances divine operations on the mind may 
 be irresistible, as in tlie ease of St. Paul's conver- 
 sion ; but they say, That to maintain that it is thus 
 in ever;/ instance, is to destroy the liberty of the 
 mind in all these cases, and consequently to leave 
 no room for the exercise of justice in conferring 
 rewards and inllicting punishments ; not to say that 
 the grace of God itself cannot be said to assist us, if 
 there be no cooperation of our own with it. Com- 
 pare Phil. ii. 12, 13. 
 
 Turr. Loc. xv. Q. vi. Limb. Theol. 1. iv. e. xiv. 
 
 Lime-st. Lec. vol. ii. p. 231. Tillot. Works, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 371. Saur. Serin, vol. vii. p. 471. 
 
 Sharp's Serm. vol. iii. p. 287. Whitby's Com. 
 
 vol. ii. A pp. Prop. 3. Foster's Ser. v. ii. 
 
 No. 5. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXVIII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is also questioned whether common grace be 
 sufficient ; and here it is to be observed, that the 
 question has some ambiguity. If that grace alone 
 is to be called sufficient, which is such, as to put it 
 into a man's power immediately to believe, with- 
 out any farther or higher influence on his mind, it 
 seems that the sufficiency of common grace cannot 
 be proved ; but if that is sufficient, by w hich a man 
 is enabled to take some steps, on his taking which 
 further grace will be communicated, till at length, 
 by a longer or shorter train of convictions, special 
 grace is given, it is difficult to reconcile the denial 
 of such a sufficiency of common grace with tlie di- 
 vine justice, in condemning men for their infidelity, 
 and the frequent declarations which God makes in 
 Scripture, that be does not desire the death of a 
 sinner. Prov. i. 21 — 25. Ezek. xviii. 23 ; xxxiii. 
 11. Isa. V. 1, &e. Ezek. xii. 2. Matt. xi. 21—24; 
 xxiii. 37, 38 ; xxv. 26, 27. The most considerable 
 argument for the negative is. That grace, which is 
 always in fact inefl'cctual, (as common grace is, by 
 tlie very definition of it,) cannot properly be said to 
 have been always sufficient ; but not to insist upon 
 its being taken for granted in this objection, tliat 
 there is a specific difference between common and 
 special grace, — the objection seems only to be say- 
 ing, in other words, that the mind of man is so 
 formed, that it could not be determined by con- 
 
 siderations by which it is not in fact determined, 
 which is only an obscure way of denying the liberty 
 of choice ; for if that be allowed, it must be owned, 
 that in every crime which has been committed, 
 from tlie first original of mankind, there have been 
 sufficient reasons against it, which yet have never 
 in fact prevailed in any one of those instances. 
 
 Limb. Theol. 1. iv. c. xiii. pass. Tillots. W. 
 
 vol. ii. p. 380. Turret, ubi sup. § 22. Baxt. 
 
 End of Contr. c. xiii. Guyse on Matt. xxv. 
 
 20.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Tilis may teach us in what sense God maybe said 
 to will the salvation of those that perish, i. e. he 
 wills it contlitionnlly, and determines to do what 
 may be sufficient to elTcet it, if it be not their own 
 fault ; but he does not will it to such a degree as to 
 do the utmost which his almighty power could 
 effect for that purpose, nor to do any thing more 
 for their salvation than he knows in fact will, by 
 their own perverseness, be overborne. Fact proves 
 that this is the highest sense in which he can be 
 said to will their salvation ; and it seems that any 
 thing short of this would not be a foundation for 
 using the phrase at all, especially Avith such great 
 solemnity as is observable in some of the passages 
 (juotcd above, Schol. 4. 
 
 Howe's Redeem. Tears, vol. ii. p. 13. Hoice 
 on Presc. vol. ii. p. 506. Wutts's Ruin and 
 Rec. p. 292 ; Works, vol. vi. p. 297. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Whether the mind be entirely passive in the first 
 moment of its conversion, or whether there be any 
 cooperation of our own together with the influ- 
 ences of divine grace upon our heart, is a question 
 which has also been very much disputed. It chiefly 
 depends on what is meant by conversion. If a man 
 is tlien only said to be converted when his heart is 
 in a prevailing degree really determined for the 
 service of God through Christ, he is plainly active 
 in such a determination, though there may have 
 been some preceding scenes in which he has been 
 passive ; i. e. while God has made those impressions 
 on his mind which have led to this determination ; 
 and as, according to the natural constitution of our 
 mind, some motives must precede the volition lead- 
 ing towards this final determination, it is proper to 
 own God as the first Mover in this blessed work, 
 and to acknowledge that, in this sense as well as 
 others, we love him because he has first loved us. 
 Compare 1 Cor. i. 30,31. Psal. xev. 7, 8. Eph. iv. 
 30. Rev. iii. 20. Phil. ii. 13. Ezek. xi. 19. with 
 Ezek. xviii. 31. Deut. xxx. 6. with Jer. iv. 4. Acts 
 ii. 40. 1 Tim. iv. 16. 
 
 * fSonie observations concerning Mr. Baxter's Theological System, 
 with re;^ar(\ to the doctrine of grace, anil his havin;^ given rise to a dis- 
 lincl denomination of Christians, called Baxtcritiiis, will be found in 
 (lie Binnraphia Rritannica, vol. ii. p. 22, second edition. 
 
ON PNEUMAT-OLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 455 
 
 Sftur. Scrm. vol. i. p. 78. TiUot. vol. ii. p. 
 374. Turret. Locus xv. Q. 6. vol. ii. p. 591. 
 Sharp's Serm. vol. iii. p. 281. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 7. 
 
 The question, Whether the work of regeneration 
 and conversion be accomplished in an instant, is 
 nearly akin to the former. It must be acknow- 
 ledged, there is some one moment in which there is 
 the first prcponderancy of religious impressions and 
 resolution in the soul ; but if all that the Spirit docs 
 to bring a man to real religion, is called (as with 
 some latitude of expression it may) the work of his 
 converting or regenerating grace, it is evidently a 
 gradual thing ; and it would certainly have an ill 
 influence upon practical religion, to encourage men 
 to expect an instantaneous miraculous change in the 
 neglect of proper means. 
 
 Wits. Econ. Fad. 1. iii. c. vi. §8. TiUot. vol. 
 
 ii. p. 383. Serm. 55. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 We most readily allow, that the rules by which 
 God proceeds in dispensing his special grace are 
 to us unaccountable ; for it plainly appears that it 
 is not always given in proportion to the use that 
 has been made of common grace, since many who 
 have been the most abandoned sinners arc in a very 
 sudden and surprising manner brought to repentance 
 and faith, while others of a fairer character go on 
 in impenitence and unbelief. Compare 1 Cor. vi. 
 9—11. 1 Tim. i. 14— IG. Nevertheless, it would 
 be very unjust to accuse God of partiality on that 
 account; because, in his final judgment, he v.i\\ 
 distribute rewards and punishments according to 
 tlie characters of men, (Rom. ii. 6.) and dealiug 
 justly by all, so far as to inflict no uudcscr\ed 
 punishments, he may certainly be allowed to dis- 
 pense Ills favour as he pleases, (Matt. xx. 13 — 15.) 
 and if we will not allow this, wc shall find iininci- 
 ble difliculties in the dispensations of nature as w cll 
 as of grace, considering the vast difference which 
 God is pleased to malte in the circumstances of 
 various creatures, even where there lias been no 
 correspondent diflcrence in their previous character 
 and behaviour. 
 
 Le Blanc's Thcs. p. 753, he. Howe's Works, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 27. Clarke's Posth. Scrni. vol. i. 
 
 p. 235. Evans's Scrm. vol. i. No. i. 
 
 SCIIOLII'M 9. 
 
 Snme of the Heathens seem to have hud a notion 
 of divine influences on the mind as necessary to 
 make them wise and good, and have ascribed their 
 virtues as well as their infellectnal endowments to 
 it; though others have spoken in a very haughty 
 manner upon this head. 
 
 Senec. Epist. No. 73. Wits. Misc. vol. ii. 
 Maxim. Tyr. Diss. Hi. ap. Barr. Works, vol. 
 
 iii. p. .331. Xenopfi. Cyrop. 1. viii. c. vii. § 1. 
 
 Plato dc Repuh. 1. vi. Arrian in Epic. 1. iii. 
 p. 306. Tiill. de Nat. Deor. I. ii. Minvte 
 Philos. vol. ii. p. 47. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXVI. 
 That it is said to be a state of salvation, in 
 which if a person die, he would partake of the 
 future salvation and happiness promised in the 
 Gospel. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXVII. 
 The doctrine of the perseverance of saints, is 
 that doctrine which asserts. That all who have ever 
 believed in Christ, according to Def. 82. or who 
 have ever been in a state of salvation, are never 
 suflered finally to perish ; but do either continue 
 in that state to the end of their lives, or, if they fall 
 from it, are again recovered to it. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 A person may be said to believe the doctrine of 
 the perseverance of the saints in this sense, who 
 believes their apostasy to be in the nature of things 
 possible, provided he believes it in fact certain that 
 they will not actually apostatize. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 A person may be said to believe the doctrine of 
 perseverance in this sense, who admits of a total 
 apostasy /or « ii'mc, from which the person so fallen 
 away is afterwards recovered ; but whether this 
 belief be consistent with Scripture or not, will be 
 afterwards inquired. 
 
 Markii Medulla, c. xxvii. § 2. Turr. vol. ii. 
 Loc. XV. Q. 16, § 7, 8. 
 
 I.ECTUKE CLXXIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXL. 
 To inquire, Whether the doctrine of the perse- 
 verance of the saints, as stated above, be or be not 
 the Scripture doctrine ? 
 
 SOLLTION. 
 
 Sect. I. Forthc negative, Wvat it is not a Scripture 
 doctrine, the following arguments are produced : — 
 
 Artj.l. There arc various threatenings denounced 
 against those who do apostatize, botli under the 
 Old Tesfameiit and under the New, which the 
 patrons of the doctrine of the perseverance of the 
 saints allow to have contained the same covenant of 
 grace, V. (). Ezek. iii. 20; xviii. 24. Hcb. vi. 4 — 8, 
 29. Psalm cxxv. .3 — 5. To tliis it has been an- 
 swered, That some of these texts do not so much as 
 suppose the falling away of a truly good man ; and 
 to all of them it i.s said, they only show what would 
 be tlic consequence, )/siich should fall away, or at 
 most prove it in the nature of things possible, but 
 cannot prove that it ever in fact happens. Com- 
 
406 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 l>arc James ii. 10. Malt, xviii. 8, 9, 2"i. Luke xvii. 
 4 ; \vi. -ifi, 31. 
 
 Limh. T/ieol. I. v.c. Ixxxi. § 1— fi, &c. Til/ots. 
 WorJis, vol. ii. p. 490. 
 
 Aip. II. It is foietold as a future event, tliat 
 .some /rue Christians shall fall away, Matt. xxiv. 12, 
 13. .lohn XV. G. iSIatt. xlii. 20, 21. 
 
 To the first of tlicsc passages it is answered, That 
 their love might be said to wax cold, without totally 
 ceasing ; or there might have been an outward zeal 
 where there never was a true faith. To the seeond, 
 That persons may be said to be in Christ, only by an 
 external profession : see John xv. 2. comp. Rom. 
 viii. 1. Gal. iii. 27. As to Matt. xiii. 20, 21. it is 
 replied. That this may refer to the joy with which 
 some may entertain the oilers of pardon, who never 
 attentively considered them, nor cordially acqui- 
 esced in the method in which that and the other 
 blessings of the Gospel covenant were proposed. 
 
 Limb. T/ieol. ib. § 5—9. 
 
 A)\(/. III. It is urged, That many have in fact 
 fallen away, as David and Solomon, and those 
 mentioned 1 Tim. i. 19, 20. 2 Tim. iv. 10. Com- 
 pare Phil. iv. 3. Col. iv. 14. Philem. ver. 24. 2 
 Pet. ii. 18. 
 
 To those instances it is answered, 
 
 1. By some, that w ith regard to David and Solo- 
 mon there might be some habits of grace remaining 
 in their hearts, even when they were overborne by 
 the remainders of corruption. 
 
 2. By others, that David and Solomon were re- 
 covered, and that Demas might possibly be so ; and 
 as to others, that there is no proof of their ever 
 having been sincere Christians and truly good men ; 
 which is particularly applicable to Alexander and 
 Hymeneus. As for 1 Tim. v. 12. which some add 
 to the above-mentioned instances, it is answered, 
 That their Jirst faith migiit be a mere ineffectual 
 assent ; or tliat it may mean only their promise 
 given to the church that they would continue 
 widows, in order to attend to its service. 
 
 Roberts. Clav. Bibl. p. 86. Ham. on 1 Tim. v. 12. 
 
 Arg. IV. It is urged. That the doctrine of per- 
 severance supersedes the use of means, and renders 
 those exhortations and motives insignificant, which 
 are so often to be found in Scripture, v. g. Luke xii. 
 6. Rom. xi. 20. 1 Cor. ix. 27. Heb. iii. 12; iv. 1. 
 Rev. ii. 10; iii. 11. 2 Tim. ii. 12. To this it is 
 replied. That these admonitions and exhortations 
 Jiave Iheir use, being the means by which God con- 
 tinues his saints in their holy course, it being still 
 true that continued holiness is absolutely necessary 
 in order to their salvation, with which the certainty 
 of their salvation in that way is not by any means 
 inconsistent. Comp. Acts xxvii. 22—24, 31. 
 
 Limh. Tlicol. lib. v. c. 83. Saur. Ser. vol. ix. 
 No. 1. 
 
 Arg. V. It is urged, That the doctrine of per- 
 severance gives great encouragement to carnal 
 security, and presumptuous sin. 
 
 A71S. 1. We allow that it may be abused; but 
 that w ill not prove it to be false, though it is a 
 reason against admitting it to be true without clear 
 evidence ; but the free i)ardon of the greatest sins 
 upon repentance and faith, though so certain a truth, 
 is also liable to as fatal and obvious abuse. 
 
 2. None can assure themselves of their own per- 
 severance (allowing the doctrine in general to be 
 true) any further than as they have an evidence that 
 they are already true believers. To all therefore 
 who are in any doubt w ith regard to the sincerity of 
 grace in their hearts, the argument taken from the 
 fear of eternal condemnation and misery must have 
 its full weight. 
 
 3. As for those who are true believers, and know 
 themselves to be such, allowing the doctrine of 
 perseverance, they may nevertheless receive great 
 damage by sin. There is on this very principle so 
 much the more reason to believe that God will visit 
 it (as he remarkably did in the instance of David) 
 with temporal afllictions ; and the diminution of 
 future glory in proportion to the degree in which 
 sin prevails, will still remain as a consideration of 
 great moment with the most excellent saints. 
 
 4. If the motive taken from the fear of everlasting 
 misery be weakened, that from love and gratitude, 
 which is the most powerful and acceptable principle 
 of obedience, is greatly strengthened ; so that, upon 
 the whole, this doctrine is not likely to prove a snare 
 to a man, except when he is in so ill a situation of 
 mind, that nothing but the fear of immediate dam- 
 nation will restrain him from the commission of sin ; 
 and the probability of dying immediately upon the 
 commission of sin, before there is room for renewed 
 acts of faith and repentance, is so small, that few 
 persons who do not believe perseverance, will be 
 restrained from guilt merely by that fear : — and to 
 conclude, before a man can with any plausible 
 appearance draw an argument from this doctrine to 
 encourage himself to sin, he must be sure he is a 
 believer ; but how can he know it ? If by a pre- 
 tended revelation, strong proof must be demanded ; 
 for it will seem in theory very improbable that such 
 a favour should be granted to a wretch disposed so 
 vilely to abuse it : if by rational evidence, what past 
 impressions which he may have felt, can give a 
 stronger evidence of true piety than arise to the 
 contrary from so detestable a disposition as is now 
 supposed to prevail? So that, though on the whole 
 it is possible this doctrine may be abused, the pro- 
 bability of such an abuse is less, and the absurdity 
 of it much greater, than persons on the other side 
 the question have seemed generally to apprehend. 
 
 Limb. ib. § 11. Lime-Str. Leo. vol. ii. p. 343. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 457 
 
 LECTURE CLXXX. 
 
 Sect. II. To enumerate the principal arguments 
 in favour of the doctrine : — and, 
 
 Arg. I. It is argued from the promises of preserving 
 grace, Jer. xxxii. 38 — 40. John iv. 14 ; vi.39; x.28; 
 xi. 26. To the first of these it is answered, That the 
 clause on which the argument turns, may be trans- 
 lated, " That they may not depart from me ;" but it 
 is replied, That the apostle quotes this text, Hcb. 
 viii. 10. in a manner not liable to this ambiguity. 
 As to the other passages, some understand them 
 merely as a conditional promise, expressing the 
 safety of believers while they adhere to Christ; but 
 the relation of a shepherd, professed in some of them, 
 intimates a care to prevent a seduction of the flock, 
 as well as to defend them from violence. To these 
 texts some add all those passages, in which Christ 
 owns such a relation to liis church, and expresses 
 such a care of it, as must in fact be a security to 
 every true member, as when he calls himself its 
 Head, Husband, Saviour, &c. 
 
 Limb. ib. 1. V. c. 84. Lime-st.Lec. vol. ii. p. 331. 
 
 Arg. II. The doctrine is argued from the cheer- 
 ful hope and persuasion which the apostles often 
 express of their own persevering, and that of their 
 fellow-saints, as will appear from consulting the 
 following texts. 
 
 Rom. viii. 35—39. 2 Tim. iv. 8. Ans. The apostle 
 only expresses his confidence that none of those 
 evils should hurt them while tliey continued stcd- 
 fast unto Clirist ; but this is sinking the sense very 
 low ; it could never have been imagined or sus- 
 pected that calamities alone should alienate the love 
 of God from good men, especially when a regard 
 to the cause of God brouglit on those calamities ; 
 but it was very important to assure them tliat God 
 would so strengthen them under their trials, tliat 
 Ibey should be enabled to bear them without final 
 apostasy. Limhorch, ib. § 10, 11. 
 
 Phil. i. 6. Ans. It expresses what appeared 
 probable rather than certain. It is replied, That 
 admitting tlie answer, it must be granted that the 
 perseverance of good men is at least probable, and 
 the reason insinuated, which is God's having be- 
 gun a good work in them, is applicable to all believ- 
 ers ; as the following words intimate, that it is 
 through the divine inspection and care to finish bis 
 work that they are secured. 
 
 1 Pet. i. 4, .5. Ans. The apostle speaks of their 
 having been kept hitherto, but does not assert that 
 they shall still be kept ; but this does not seem to 
 amount to their being kept to salvation. 
 
 1 Cor. i. 8, 9. Object. This refers to the confirm- 
 ing of the saints in a state of perpetual holiness at 
 the last day. Ans. It would not be so proper to 
 say they were then confirmed ujito the end ; and 
 
 there may be (as our version supposes) an ellipsis 
 in the expression, q. d. " He shall confirm you even 
 to the end, that ye may be blameless," &e. 
 
 Whitby in Loc. Beza in Loe. Doddridge in 
 hoc. and Bos and Alhertus. 
 
 1 Thess. V. 23, 24. The turn of phrase here is so 
 much the same with the last text, that the same ob- 
 jection and the same answer may easily be applied ; 
 as there is indeed a remarkable resemblance between 
 the two texts. 
 
 Arg. III. Those passages are pleaded, in which 
 this doctrine is said to be expressly asserted, v. g. 
 
 Rom. viii. 28—30. Dr. Whitby understands the 
 phrase, Who are called according to his purpose, — 
 of their being called to a profession of Christianity ; 
 and by being glorified, their receiving the Spirit of 
 God, whereby a very considerable glory was con- 
 ferred upon them (compare 1 Pet. iv. 4.) ; but it is 
 certain this is a very uncommon sense of the word ; 
 to which we may add, that the called are spoken of 
 as lovers of God ; not to insist upon that part of the 
 argument which is taken fromtlie mention of God's 
 purpose and predestination concerning them. 
 
 Matt. xxiv. 24. Ans. Ei donaton only implies 
 the exceeding difficulty, not impossibilitj', of the 
 case. Limb. Theol. lib. v. e. 84. § 8. 
 
 1 John iii. 9. Objection. It is only, q. d. an al- 
 lowed course of sin is inconsistent with true Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 Ans. Such an explication will by no means suit 
 the phrase of the seed abiding in such, (comp. 1 Pet. 
 i. 23.) even though it should be granted th<ii abiding 
 signifies no more than is in them. 
 
 Limb. ib. § 12, 13. 
 
 Matt. vii. 25. — It is answered. That by storms and 
 tempests are to be understood persecution, or the 
 final trial all are to expect from God ; and in eitlier 
 sense, the meaning will only be, that he who does 
 the will of Christ shall have a secure foundation of 
 hope and confidence under this trial. Compare 
 Prov. iv. 18. Job xvii. 9. Psal. xcii. 12—15. Isa. 
 xl. 31. to which texts nothing can be answered, 
 but that lliey express either the happiness of good 
 men, or what is generally their (-haracter. 
 
 Arg. IV. Tiiere are many passages in which it is 
 asserted, that those who have fallen away from their 
 profession were never sincere in it; which plainly 
 implies that those who are sincere do never fall 
 away. They are such as these, 
 
 1 John ii. 19. compare Deut. xiii. 13. — Object. 
 The apost.le speaks of what would probably, tliough 
 not certainly, have been the case ; or, considering 
 the peculiar evidence which attended Christianity, 
 he might have peculiar reason to say that no sincere 
 professor would be ashamed of the Gospel ; but 
 even this must only be on supposition that there is a 
 certain degree of wickedness, into which no one who 
 
408 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 liml once been fcood could fall ; which low p;iiiiit 
 who deny perseverance. Matt. vii. 23. — Object. 
 Christ uiifjht say this concerning; viany, though not 
 all ; and if it might be said of the greater part, it 
 would justify such a general representation; as it 
 may be only of the yreati r part of sinners he speaks, 
 when he describes all at the left hand as condemned 
 for uncharitableness, JIatt. xxv. 42, 43. Luke viii. 
 4 — 16. where only those who brought fortli fruit to 
 perfection are said to have received the word in an 
 honest heart. Object. It is only a circumstance of 
 a parable, therefore not to be strained too far. ^m*. 
 It is a very material circumstance, and not merely 
 incidental. It is further urged, by way of objection 
 to this argument, that they may be called r/ood 
 ffiound, who receive it with an honest heart, and 
 bring forth fruit, even though their fruit should 
 wither and tlicy themselves perish ; but it is replied. 
 That this is the very ease of the sto7iy ground hearers ; 
 nor can tliosc be said to bring forth fruit to perfec- 
 tion who never attain to more than an imperfect 
 state, and at last fall from that, and incur aggravated 
 guilt and ruin. 
 
 Limc-st. Lec. vol. ii. p. 284. Baxter s End of 
 Con. c. xxvi. Wits. Econ. Feed. 1. iii. c. xiii. 
 
 COROLLAKY. 
 
 There is, on the whole, reason to believe that the 
 doctrine of perseverance, as stated and limited 
 above, is indeed the Scripture doctrine. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXI. 
 
 SCHOLIIM 1. 
 
 Most of those who believe that the saints shall 
 not finally fall away, so as actually to perish, do 
 likewise believe that they never totally apostatize, 
 even for a time ; and consequently allow that David, 
 under his greatest guilt, was still in a state of favour 
 and acceptance with God, as liaving a secret prin- 
 ciple of spiritual life, though at that time ovcihorne 
 by the prevalcncy of sin. The chief stre.ss of the 
 argument lies on Heb. vi. 4, &c. ; and it is urged, 
 that if this text be allowed to speak of tliosc who 
 fall short of real piety, as the patterns of persever- 
 ance generally suppose, yet in pronouncing their 
 recovery impossible, it must much more strongly 
 conclude against the recovery of a true saint, if he 
 should fall away ; but wc answer. If it be allov. ed 
 (as perhaps tliere may be reason to allow it) that 
 the falliny awny, here spoken of, is such a total 
 apostasy from (Christianity, as implies the sin 
 against the Holy Ghost, then it will follow, that 
 whatever argument there is to prove final persever- 
 ance, will prove that true believers shall not be 
 suffered to fall into that sin ; and if it be supposed 
 only to express inferior degrees of apostasy, then it 
 
 must be gi anted tluit ASwarov only signifies ex- 
 tremely diffieuli ; and so, on cither supposition, no 
 certain conclusion can be drawn from this passage. 
 Compare Heb. x. 26 — 29. 
 
 Wits. Econ. Feed. lib. iii. c. xiii. § 10, 11, 2G. 
 Lime-st. Led. vol. ii. p. 297. 
 To this it has been added by some, that if several 
 of the texts urged above have any weight to prove 
 perseverance at all, it must be a total as well as a 
 final perseverance. Compare particularly 1 John 
 ii. 19; iii. 9. 1 Pet. i. 4, 3. 
 
 Limb. Theol. lib. v. c. 85. § 4, 6. Hale's Gold. 
 Rem. p. 1-29. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Perseverance is owing to the continued influence 
 of the Spirit of God upon the hearts of true be- 
 lievers (vid. Prop. 1.39. pr. 7, 8.); and this seems 
 to be the foundation of that metaphor by which the 
 Spirit is said to dwell in them, and they are de- 
 scribed as his temple, Rom. viii. 9. 1 Cor. iii. 16 ; 
 vi. 19. Eph. ii. 22. John vii. 37—39. 
 
 Hoive's Liv. Tern. ap. Op. vol. i. p. 215. vol. ii. 
 e. 10. p. 369. Lime-str. Lec. vol. ii. p. 336. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The preceding scholium may serve to explain the 
 foundation of that metaphor by which Christ is 
 represented as the head of the church ; which, toge- 
 ther with him, makes up one mystical body ; for his 
 created nature being thus inhabited by the Holy 
 Ghost, and the influences of that Spirit being com- 
 municated from him to believers, to animate them 
 to the same great end of cultivating holiness and 
 glorifying God, it is evident that such an allegory 
 as we have mentioned above is just and beautiful ; 
 since the several parts of the human body arc ac- 
 tuated by the same mind, and have sensation and 
 motion communicated to them by virtue of their 
 union with the head. Compare John i. 16 ; xvii, 
 21 ; XV. 5. 1 Cor. vi. 17 ; xii. 12, 13. Eph. iv. 16, 
 16. Col. ii. 19. Lime-st. Lec. vol. ii. p. 331. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 From those texts in which God engages to cause 
 all things to operate for the good of his people, sucii 
 as Rom. viii. 28 ; v. 3. 1 Cor. iii. 21, 22. many have 
 inferred that God will order all events in such a 
 manner, that the good of every particular believer 
 shall, in fact, be advanced and promoted thereby ; 
 and some have carried this so far as to say that 
 even sin itself shall be for the believer's advantage ; 
 thougli some liave contradicted tliemselves again, 
 by adding, that to have resisted the temptation 
 would have been much more so ; but it seems that 
 the design of those texts will be sulliciently answer- 
 ed, if wc allow tliat God's dispensations are so 
 adjusted, that good men, if they are not wanting to 
 themselves, may receive some good from all, and 
 probably in general do so. 
 
 Tnrr. vol. ii. Loc. xv. Q. xvi. § 14, 18. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 459 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It seems from some of the texts enumerated, 
 Prop. 133. gr. 2. that none have made such a pro- 
 gress in piety as to be entirely free from the re- 
 mainders of indwelling sin ; and Rom. vii. 14, &c. 
 is often urged as a confirmation of this doctrine. 
 It is answered, That the 7th chap, to the Romans 
 describes the state of an vnreyenerate mav. Tlie 
 arguments on both sides may be seen in the com- 
 mentators ; but, on the whole, it seems most pro- 
 bable that the context there describes the state of a 
 good man under the imperfection of the Mosaic 
 dispensation, and therefore is not so much to the 
 purpose of the present question as some suppose. 
 It is certain St. Paul sometimes speaks in the first 
 person, when lie means to represent the circum- 
 stances and sentiments of another, (Rom. iii. 7, 8. 
 1 Cor. iv. 4—6.) and perhaps, upon the whole, the 
 true key to this much-controverted passage may be 
 this : — St. Paul first represents a man as ignorant 
 of the law, and then insensible of .sin, but after- 
 wards becoming acquainted with it, and then thrown 
 into a kind of despair, by the sentence of death 
 which it denounces, on account of sins he is now 
 conscious of having committed ; he then furtlier 
 shows, that even where there is so good a disposi- 
 tion, as even to delight in the law, yet the motives 
 are too weak to maintain that uniform tenor of 
 obedience which a good man greatly desires, and 
 which the Gospel by its superior motives and grace 
 does in fact produce. 
 
 Taylor on Rom. Par. p. 186. Doddr. Exp. on 
 Rom. vii. 14. vol. iv. 
 
 1 .John iii. 9. if it prove the perfection of ang 
 man, would prove, contrary to the most evident 
 experience, the perfection of all believers : and 
 whereas it is said the precepts of the Gospel 
 require us to aim at perfection, it is replied. They 
 may answer their end by exciting us to press after 
 it, though in the present state it be not actually 
 attained : and as for those who are said in Scrip- 
 ture to have been pTrfcct, such as Noah and Job, it 
 appears from the infirmities which attended their 
 character, that the most which can be meant by it 
 is, that they were not only sincere in religion, but 
 had made eminent progress in it. On the whole, 
 none can pretend to say that it is absolutely impos- 
 sible for us to do our best, or that God now requires 
 of us to do better tlian we possibly can in present 
 circumstances; nor can we certainly say that no one 
 has ever exerted the utmost of the capacities God 
 has given him in any particular act of duty : but 
 we find, in fact, tliose who seem the best of men 
 generally most ready to acknowledge their own 
 remaining imperfections ; and the perfection that 
 some have talked of, seems only to be a freedom 
 from known, wilful, deliberate sin, which it is to 
 be hoped many have attained for some considerable 
 
 time, who yet lament numberless imperfections 
 attending the best of th eir services. Christians 
 would in general be better employed in seeking 
 greater degrees of perfection, than in disputing in 
 a subtle and abstruse manner the nicety of such 
 questions as have sometimes been started upon 
 this head. And we may add, that where the pro- 
 gress towards perfection is greatest, the remem- 
 brance of past sins, only pardoned by the free grace 
 of God in Christ, and of our continued dependence 
 upon the aids of God's Spirit for eveiy step w e take 
 in our holy course, may be sufficient to keep us 
 humble ; and it is certain- that pride in our reli- 
 gious attainments, is one of the greatest of the 
 imperfections to be found in good men. Compare 
 Job ix. 20. 
 
 Bard. Apol. Prop. viii. Besse's Def. of Quale. 
 p. 193. Lvc. Inq. vol. ii. p. 11. Clarke's 
 Scrm. vol. ix. No. v. Latv of Perfection, p. 1 . 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXIT. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 6. 
 
 The Spirit of God produces in the hearts of good 
 men the hope of eternal life, which in various per- 
 sons and circumstances prevails in various deg;ecs. 
 Some who are fully persuaded of the doctrine of 
 perseverance, and have a clear evidence that they 
 are true believers, grounded on extraordinary at- 
 tainments in piety, or approved fidelity in some 
 great and remarkable trials, may liave an undoubted 
 certainty of their own salvation : and it appears in 
 fact that this is the case with many, if we may 
 credit the living and dying testimony of some, on 
 their own experience, w ho seem to have been among 
 the best persons of their age. It is probable that, 
 in times of difficulty and persecution, this persua- 
 sion may be more common than in persons of equal 
 attainments in religion, in more peaceful circum- 
 stances ; which may be one reason why it is some- 
 times spoken of by the apostles as so common a ease 
 in their days: vid. 1 John ii. 5 ; iii. 14, 19 — 21 ; v. 13. 
 Heb. vi. 11 ; X. 34, 35. 2 Pet. i. 10. 1 Thess. i. 4. 
 Rom. viii. 16, 17 ; and something like this may be 
 traced in tiie writings of our first reformers. Where 
 there is not such a full assurance, there nuiy, never- 
 theless, be a cheerful and prevailing hope ; and this 
 even in those who do not apprehend the doctrine of 
 perseverance to be universally true, since they may 
 see that there is at least a degree of probability, that 
 every particular saint, whose case may be under 
 consideration, will in fact finally persevere, though 
 the conclusion may be attended with smne degree 
 of uncertainty. How far full assurance is to be 
 ascribed to the immediate testimony of the Spirit, 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 is n (luostion (lifficnlt (o ilecido : it is allowed tli;il 
 God can, by an immediate impression, reveal sucli 
 truths to the soul beyond all possibility of doubt, 
 and eause us to apprehend it as his own voice 
 speaking to us ; but this is a tliinpf, the idea and 
 evidence of which can be communicated to none : 
 it seems therefore improper to lay a stress upon it, 
 as absolutely necessary to a w ell-grounded comfort 
 and hope ; though it is, on the other hand, great 
 raslincss, universally to deride all pretences of this 
 kind, especially when coming from persons of w is- 
 dom and piety. That the generality of Christians 
 are exercised with so many doubts about their own 
 state, is generally to be ascribed to the imperfection 
 of their attainments in religion, to their entertaining 
 wrong notions of it, especially their laying too great 
 a stress upon present frames, and regarding the 
 lively exercise of the passions more than the steady 
 determination of the w ill, — which is the only sure 
 standard by which to judge. 
 
 Howe's W. vol. i. p. 342. Mason's Serm. vol. iv. 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 There are a great variety of different methods in 
 which the work of religion is carried on in the 
 hearts of l)elicvcrs, in order to their final persever- 
 ance, and tlieir improvement in piety. Sometimes 
 certain texts of Scripture occur with such power 
 and ellicacy to the mind, as at other times they have 
 never had ; and these Scriptures are not always 
 applied in a sense most agreeable to the context, 
 but frequently according to the most obvious sense 
 of the words, considered as alone, and compared 
 with some present occasion on which they are 
 given ; sometimes a strong persuasion arises in the 
 mind of a Christian, as to the answer of some par- 
 ticular request, which takes olf a heavy and almost 
 overwhelming burthen which before lay upon his 
 heart : and in a variety of otlicr instances, conso- 
 lation is sometimes so strongly poured in upon their 
 minds, from principles before known, considered 
 and believed, yet not attended with any such sensi- 
 ble cflects, that all who believe the fact must ac- 
 knowledge it an extraordinary phenomenon ; and 
 considering the great usefulness of such expe- 
 riences for establishing Christians in tiie way of 
 piety, it seems reasonable to suppose that these im- 
 pressions may (frequently at least) be the extraor- 
 dinary w ork of the Holy Spirit on their minds. It 
 is observable, that these peculiar experiences are 
 most frequent where persons' natural faculties are 
 weak ; or that if they arc imparted to persons of 
 higher genius and stronger reason, it is generally 
 wlien under the pressure of some uncommon cala- 
 mity, or when called out to any service which 
 requires an extraordinary share of courage and 
 resolution. 
 
 From considering those things, it appears that 
 all, especially Christian ministers, should be cau- 
 
 tious how llicy deride and expose such impressions 
 as mere enthusiasm. If it be asked. How they can 
 be distinguished from those which are indeed so, (as 
 many warm impressions no doubt are,) it may be 
 answered. That, in order to prevent any dangerous 
 mistake here, the tendency of them is by all means 
 to be regarded : it would be very dangerous to ven- 
 ture on any thing which in other circumstances 
 would be evil, from the apprehension which some 
 have entertained, that the common rules of mo- 
 rality are to be dispensed with, in consequence of 
 such a supernatural impulse ; for no impulse in such 
 cases is to be believed, without stronger evidence 
 than can commonly be given : but where they lead 
 only to a more cheerful acquiescence in the Divine 
 care, and a more zealous discharge of certain 
 duties, they may safely be regarded as coming, 
 whether in a more or less natural way, from God, 
 unless any medium of argument be thus suggested, 
 which is evidently absurd and ridiculous. 
 
 Howe's Life, p. 229. Goodw. H^oj7{*, vol. iv. p. 
 95. Baxt. Cure of Church Div. Direc. 27, 
 28. Watts on Prayer, c. iv. § 3. Bennet's 
 Chris. Orat. vol. i. p. 388. Flem. on fulfil. 
 Script, p. 197. Watts' Evang. Disc. No. xii. 
 p. 251. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 Besides these particular revelations, which seem 
 intended only or chiefly for the use of tlie persons to 
 whom they are made, some have thouglit that there 
 may still continue in tlic church something of what 
 was before called an inspiration of elevation, (Def, 
 75.) chiefly imparted to those who arc to lead the 
 devotions of public assemblies : but how far in any 
 given instance uncommon enlargements are super- 
 natural, it is impossible for us to discover, who 
 know so little of the constitution of our own minds, 
 and of the degree in which they may sometimes be 
 influenced by something peculiar in the state of the 
 brain and animal spirits ; but as for those gifts and 
 powers which attended the apostolic ages. Prop. 
 117. tliey seem to be so generally ceased, that none 
 pretending to them ought to be believed, without 
 the most clear and convincing proof. 
 
 Dodd. Ans. to Chris, not founded, Sfc. p. 24. 
 Bard. Apol. p. 82. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLI. 
 To inquire into the Scripture doctrine of the un- 
 pardonable sin. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1 . The Scripture declares, that there was, at least 
 in the frst ages of Christianity, a sin that should 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 461 
 
 not be foryiven, Matt. xii. 31. Mark iii. 28, 29. 
 compare 1 John v. 16. which has been interpreted 
 by some as referring to the cure of diseases by 
 prayer ; but there seems to have been no note given 
 hy which a sin could be known to be to death in 
 that sense : it seems therefore more rational to refer 
 it to those cases upon which God had so expressly 
 decided ; and the refusing upon any occasion ever 
 to pray for one who had committed it, might be a 
 proper expedient to keep up a due horror of it, and 
 care to stand at the greatest distance from it. 
 
 Horherry on Future Punish, p. 130. 
 
 2. This plainly appears to have been some sin of 
 the tongue, by which a particular affront and injury 
 was offered to the Holy Spirit, and therefore it is 
 called, by way of eminence, the blasphemy against 
 the Holy Ghost. Waterl. Serm. vol. ii. p. 167. 
 
 3. It is plain that the occasion on which our 
 Lord uttered the words referred to above, was the 
 Pharisees ascribing those miracles to the Devil, 
 which he wrought by the power of the Holy Ghost ; 
 and, undoubtedly, any who, under the ministry of 
 the apostles, after the effusion of the Holy Ghost, 
 on the day of Pentecost, had ascribed the miracu- 
 lous operations of the Spirit in them to Satan, would 
 have incurred an equal degree of guilt; but we 
 cannot certainly say that this last was the only case 
 in which it could be committed ; and that what our 
 Lord said, gr. 1. was only a caution addressed to 
 the Pharisees, lest they should in time come to be 
 gailtj of it, though Dr. Whitby has advanced some 
 considerable arguments to support this hypothesis, 
 which deserve to be attentively weighed. 
 
 ■ 4. If any in these latter days manifest an obsti- 
 nate enmity to the truth, so far as to contradict a 
 degree of evidence, on the whole equal to that 
 which those persons had, who, in the primitive 
 ages, were said 1o have committed the sin against 
 the Holy Ghost, there is reason to believe that, the 
 guilt being equal, it would be c(|ually fatal and 
 unpardonable ; but how, in present circumstances, 
 this can be, it is not easy to conceive. 
 
 Whit. Ath App. to Matt. c.-kVi. Howe's Works, 
 vol. ii. p. 46. Tillot. Ser. vol. i. No. xvii. 
 pass. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Many have defined this sin to be a malicious op- 
 position to known truth, or, as others have expressed 
 it, to truth as truth ; but it may be doubted 
 whether the human mind be capable of the latter, 
 nor does the former enter into the account of this 
 sin as given in Scripture ; nor can we imagine that 
 every wilful opposition to truth is absolutely un- 
 pardonable, since every known and deliberate sin 
 seems to carry in it this guilt. 1 John i. 6. John 
 iii. 20. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The reason why this sin is declared unpardonable, 
 seems to be, that persons who commit it cut them- 
 selves off from the very possibility of being con- 
 vinced by other arguments for the truth of Chris- 
 tianity, and can never be brought to conviction, 
 without such a miraculous influence of God upon 
 the soul, as in righteous judgment he sees fit uni- 
 versally to deny to all such. 
 
 Those celebrated texts, Heb. vi. 4 — 6 ; x. 29. 
 refer to an apostasy from Christianity, and such an 
 impious contempt of Christ and his Gospel, as one 
 can hardly imagine any one in the primitive ages 
 could be guilty of, who did not ascribe the miracles 
 wrought in confirmation of it to some evil spirit ; 
 and this indeed seems intimated in the phrase of 
 crucifying Christ afresh, and judging his blood an 
 unholy thing, which they must surely do, who esteem 
 him a magician, and consequently by the Jewish 
 law worthy of death ; and therefore these texts may 
 perhaps be considered as referring to the same pur- 
 pose w ith those in the proposition. Maur. in Loc. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is said, That, according to the account of the 
 unpardonable sin given above, Paul must have 
 committed it, who could not, with any consistency, 
 have opposed the Christian cause, unless he be- 
 lieved the miracles wrought in confirmation of it to 
 have been of an infernal original. To this it is 
 answered, 
 
 1 . That possibly, not being an eye-witness to any of 
 them, (which we are not sure that he was,) he might 
 make a shift, with a great deal of artifice and pre- 
 judice, to disbelieve the facts ; or, 
 
 2. That if he believed they were miraculous, he 
 might think (as Bishop Fleetwood plainly did) that 
 miracles wrought in the cause of falsehood, might 
 be wrought by God, and not the Devil, and might 
 expect that, as in the case of the Egyptian magi- 
 cians, God would at length visibly interpose to 
 overbear them, and turn the balance on the contrary 
 side ; and that text (Deut. xiii. .").) might be .so 
 interpreted by him as to favour this hypothesis ; or 
 possibly he might have recourse to some foolish 
 hypothesis of the influence of the stars and power 
 of imagination, a secret charm in the name of Hod, 
 or the like, which wc know some Jews have ac- 
 quiesced in, when they could not dispute the facts 
 of Christ's miracles. Vid. Prop. 99. gr. 8. This 
 is something illustrated by the account which Jose- 
 phus gives of Solomon's skill in dispossessing 
 demons, and the traditional art which ho left be- 
 hind him ; — of which we sec below. 
 
 Flccttn. on Mir. p. 42 ; Works, p. 132. Jos. 
 Anfifj. book viii. c. ii. § 5. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 Though perhaps this sin cannot be committed 
 
162 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 now, at Irast by any who continue to retain an ex- 
 ternal profession, yet it is of great importance that 
 the strictest care be taken to keep at the remotest 
 distance from all the appearances of it ; and per- 
 haps it was expressed the more obscurely in Scrip- 
 ture, on purpose to promote such a caution ; but in 
 deaiinj; with those dejected souls who fear they have 
 committed it, it is generally the safest way to assure 
 tliem, that such a tender concern, lest they should 
 liave been guilty of it, implies such a reverence for 
 Christ and the Gospel, and such remaining opera- 
 tions of the Spirit on their hearts, as plainly proves 
 they have not. 
 
 Baxt. W. vol. ii. p. 30. Rcas. of Relit/, part 
 i. c. 10. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 6. 
 
 Dr. Waterland seems to intimate a doubt, whether 
 the sin in question be absolutely unpardonable, 
 pleading that aSwarov, signifies only cxccedinylij 
 difficult ; and this, if granted, might aflord another 
 solution for the difficulty started in the fourth 
 scholium ; but it seems the texts in the first step 
 are too determinate to admit of these softenings. 
 
 Waterl. Serm. vol. ii. No. ix. p. 177. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXIV. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXVm. 
 Those are said to be predestinated to life, 
 whom God did, from all eternity, intend actually to 
 make partakers of the Gospel salvation in a future 
 state; and those are said to be predestinated to 
 DEATH, whom God did from all eternity purpose 
 finally to condemn. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It follows from this definition, that if (as many 
 grant) an event may be allowed contingent, though 
 it will certainly in fact happen, divine predestinn- 
 tion, as stated above, does not imply llie necessary 
 salvation or condemnation of any. 
 
 SCIIOLUM. 
 
 It may perhaps be questioned, Whether this be 
 liie Scriptural sense of the word? — but considering 
 that the ruin of sinners is in Scripture charged not 
 upon the necessitating act of God, but the abuse of 
 their own liberty, (vid. Vrop. 149. Schol. 4.) it is 
 necessary, in order to make Scripture consistent 
 with itself, as we shall afterwards see, to suppose 
 tliat this is the precise sense in which the word is 
 to be taken. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLII. 
 All those who do finally partake of eternal life by 
 the Gospel, were from all eternity predestinated 
 unto it. 
 
 DEMONSTKATION 
 
 Prop. 35. 1. God from all eternity did foreknow 
 all events, and consequently the salvation of every 
 particular person who is, or shall be, finally saved. 
 
 1. 2. God from all eternity willed the salvation 
 of those who are finally saved, in the circumstances 
 in which he saw they would then be ; for it is by 
 his act they must be made finally happy ; and 
 whatever determines him to « ill their happiness in 
 the moment when it is accomplished, must, on the 
 same principles, have determined his volitions, 
 upon a full view of the case, even from all eternity. 
 
 1,2. 3. The liyht of nature assures us. That all 
 those who are finally happy were predestinated by 
 God to eternal life. 
 
 4. The Scripture frequently asserts the doctrine 
 laid down in the proposition. Vid. Matt. xxv. 34. 
 Rom. viii. 29, 30. Eph. i. 3—6, 11. 2 Tim. i. 9. 
 2 Thess. ii. 13. 1 Pet. i. 1, 2. John vi. 37; xvii. 2, 
 9, 10, 24. Rev. xiii. 8. compared with xvii. 8. 
 
 3, 4. 5. Valet propositio. 
 
 Burn, on Art. xvii. Whit, in Loc. Cit. Saur. 
 Scr. vol. i. p. 202. Kinff on Predest. S 33. 
 
 COROLI-AIIY 1. 
 
 It evidently appears from hence, that they who 
 represent the election and predestination spoken of 
 in Scripture, as relative only to nations, and not to 
 particular persons, are greatly mistaken : several of 
 these Scriptures lie directly against such a notion, 
 particularly those in the Epistle to Timothy and the 
 Revelations ; and whatever arguments could be 
 brought to prove that God Jiad a respect to nations 
 as such, or indeed that he, before the foundation of 
 the world, foresaw any thing concerning the idola- 
 trous Gentiles under that character, would cer- 
 tainly prove, on the like principles, a regard to par- 
 ticular persons, since we cannot suppose the views 
 of God to be merely general and indeterminate.* 
 COROLLA ;{Y 2. 
 
 If the reasoning of Prop. 139 and 1-10. relating to 
 the special influences of di^ine grace, and to the 
 perseverance of the saints, be admitted, it will fol- 
 low, on the same principles with those in the pro- 
 position, that all those w ho are predestinated to life, 
 
 * In suppr>rt of the ilifiercnt fide of t!ie question, rcfcrenrc m.iy Ijo 
 made to Locke, Taylor, Haiiimniid, Le Clerc, and various other com- 
 mentators. One of tlie most strenuous defc-ndiTS of tiie Calvinjstical 
 doctrine of Predestination, both upon plnIo';ophi( al atid Ciiristiau 
 principles, is Mr. Jonathan Edwards, in lus Lnpiiry into the Lroedom 
 of llie Will, and his History of the Work of Kidemption. Blr. Top. 
 lady, in lii< Doctrine of absolute I^redestination stated and as,»jerted, u) 
 his l.ctter to John Wesley, in his More Work for Mr. Johu Wesley, 
 and i[i his Scheme of Christian and Philosophical Nrccssitv, maintuiiis 
 the same sentiments which are contended for by Mr. Edwards. Sir 
 Rich. Hill, in his Review of Mr. Wesley's Doctrines, in his Logica 
 Wesleiensis, and in his Strictures on Mr. Fletcher, is another Defender 
 of Calvinism. Mr. W'esley. in his I'redestination calmly considered, 
 and in other partsofhis writinRS, vindicates the Arminian tenets. Thin 
 too is the case with liis great friend and advocate Mr. Fletcher, in his 
 Checks to Aiitinomianism, and in several additional publications. There 
 is a tract by Dr. Towers, written with a similar purpose, which is en. 
 titled A lieview of the Genuine Doctrines of Christianity ; compre. 
 Iiendin:; l{emarks on several Principal Calvinistical Doclrrnes; and 
 some 01)ser\ati(>ns on the Use of Reason in Religion, ou Human Na- 
 ture, and on Free Agency. Sec also Dr. Jortin's Six Di'^:Mt:ition«| 
 !N'o. i. ii. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 463 
 
 are also predestinated to receive special grace, and 
 to persevere in a holy course ; and, on the other 
 hand, that all those who are predestinated to holi- 
 ness, arc also predestinated to perseverance and life. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Hence it will further appear, that the reason of 
 God's predestinating some to everlasting life, was 
 not fetched from a foresight of their faith and obe- 
 dience, considered as independent upon any com- 
 munication of grace froru him ; but that it is to be 
 referred into his sovereign mercy and free grace; 
 which is also tlic language of many other Scriptures. 
 Tit. iii. 4, 5. Eph. ii. 8, 9. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 It further appears, that if any represent divine 
 predestination as a determination to save such and 
 such persons, let their temper, character, and be- 
 haviour be what it will, — and, on the other hand, 
 assert a corresponding purpose of making such and 
 such finally miserable, without any regard at all to 
 their temper and behaviour, they greatly misrepre- 
 sent the Scripture doctrine on this head ; but this is 
 by no means the Calvinistieal scheme, which always 
 teaches that the means hre decreed as well as the 
 end, and that God purposes to save none but such 
 as by his grace he shall prepare for salvation by 
 sanctification ; and it is very remarkable, that though 
 this doctrine of predestination is expressly asserted 
 and often referred to in Scripture, (which shows 
 that the apostles esteemed it of considerable import- 
 ance,) yet the process of the final judgment is 
 described as turning, not upon the secret decrees of 
 God, but upon the actions and characters of men. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 On the same principles, those who finally perish, 
 may be said to have been predestinated to death. 
 Compare Prov. xvi. 4. John x. 26. Rom. ix. 17. 
 1 Pet. ii. 8. .lude 4. On the whole, comparing one 
 part of Scripture with the other, there seems to be 
 this remarkable dilTerence between the predestina- 
 tion to life and to death : that, in the former case, 
 God determines by the influence of his grace to 
 work such a change in the hearts of his elect, as that 
 their salvation should, on the whole, be ascribed to 
 him, and not unto them.selves ; whereas he deter- 
 mines to bring others into such circumstances, that, 
 though their ruin should in fact happen, yet they 
 themselves should be the authors of it, and the blame 
 lie as entirely upon themselves as if it had not been 
 so much as foreknown. Vid. Rom. ix. 22, 2;}. 
 Matt. XXV. .34, 41. 
 
 SCHOLll'M 2. 
 
 The Remonstrants generally believed that God's 
 electing some to everlasting life, was only a purpose 
 of making believers finally happy, and of giving all 
 to whom the Gospel became sufficient means of faith ; 
 and that predestination to death was only a purpose 
 
 of making unbelievers finally miserable; that God 
 did not puqDose the happiness of one more than 
 another, and that neither of these predestinations 
 could properly be said to be personal, wherein their 
 notion evidently differed from that stated above. It 
 is indeed answered. That this predestination of all 
 believers in general, implies a predestination of 
 every particular believer, on condition of his faith; 
 and on the principles of the proposition and scho- 
 lium, it may be allowed, that none are chosen but 
 on this condition, provided we further add, that 
 every particular person who does believe was chosen 
 freely by divine grace to receive those assistances 
 which God saw would in fact prevail to bring him 
 to faith, and so by consequence to salvation. 
 
 Limb. Theol. lib. iv. c. i. § 3. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The cliief objection against this doctrine is. That 
 it tends to make those who believe themselves pre- 
 destinated to live careless, and to make others 
 desperate. It is replied. That as those only are in 
 Scripture said to be predestinated to life who are 
 also chosen to be saints, there can be no reason for 
 any who do not find a prevailing principle of holi- 
 ness in their hearts, to conclude they are in that 
 number : and, on the whole, this objection nearly 
 coincides with that against perseverance more 
 largely considered. Prop. 140. § 1. f/r. 5. and if 
 persons will venture to argue themselves into negli- 
 gence in matters of everlasting importance, from 
 principles, on which (though they are equally ap- 
 plicable to them) they will not neglect their lives 
 or their secular business, it is perverseness, for 
 which they arc justly responsible before God. As 
 to the second part of the objection, If it be granted 
 that sufficient assistances are given to all, none will 
 ha\ e reason to despair, nor will any have an excuse 
 to plead before God, in consequence of his secret 
 purposes, wliich will not be made a rule of his final 
 judgment. If it be said, that nevertheless those 
 who are not predestinated to life are left under a 
 necessity of perishing, and an impossibility of sal- 
 vation, — it must be owned, that it is dillicult to say 
 how the doctrine, as explained by some, can be 
 freed from this objection ; but this consequence 
 does not necessarily follow from it, as we have 
 stated it above. 
 
 Berrif-st. Lee. vol. i. p. 241. Watts's Rvin 
 and Recov. p. 278. 
 
 SCHOLll'M 4. 
 
 The Supralapsarian and Stthlapsarian schemes 
 agree in asserting the doctrine of predestination, 
 but with this difference, that the former supposes 
 that God intended to glorify his justice in the con- 
 demnation of some, as well as his mercy in the 
 salvation of others; and for that purpose decreed 
 that Adam should necessarily fall, and by that fall 
 
4G4 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 luini;- Iiiuiself aiul all liis ofTspring into a state of 
 everlastiii};- roiulciiiiiation. The latter scheme sup- 
 poses, that the decree of predestination regards 
 man as fallen, by an abuse of that freedom which 
 Adam liad, into a state, in whicli all were to be left 
 to necessary and unavoidable ruin, wlio were not 
 exempted from it by jiredestination. The chief 
 dilliculties \\ hich may be urged against the former, 
 do likewise attend the latter ; but the scheme stated 
 in the proposition does properly agree with neither. 
 
 Le Blunc's Theses, p. 132. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXV. 
 
 DEFINITION LXXXIX. 
 The mxttual stipulation between Christ and the 
 Father, relating to tlie redemption of sinners by 
 him, previously to any act upon Christ's part, under 
 the character of 3Iediator, has generally been called 
 by divines the co\ xnant of redemption.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM. 
 
 That there was such a covenant, either taeit or 
 express, we may assuredly conclude, considering 
 the importance of the work undertaken by Christ, 
 and tiie expensive rate at which it was to be ac- 
 complished : and the Scriptures afterwards to be 
 produced, relating to the particulars of this cove- 
 nant, will consequently prove the cxisteriee of it in 
 the general : as indeed all those prophecies which 
 relate to what was to be done by the Messiah, on 
 the one hand, and what benefits and rewards were 
 to be conferred upon him and his people, on the 
 other, may properly be considered as intimations of 
 such a covenant, supposing (what has been already 
 proved) the existence of Christ as a distinct person 
 from the Fatiier, in the philosophical sense of the 
 word, and Iiis interposition in the suggestion and 
 promulgation of those prophecies. 1 Pet. i. 11. 
 Compare John xvii. 1 — 5, 14 ; vi. 37. Tit. i. 2. 
 2 Tim. i. 9. Rev. xiii. 8. Psal. Ixxxix. 19, &e. 
 PROPOSITION CXLIII. 
 
 To inquire into the tenor of the Covenant of Re- 
 demption. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. By this covenant, Christ undertook to become 
 incarnate, to dwell a certain time upon earth, sub- 
 ject not only to the law of human nature, but like- 
 wise to that of tlie Jewish dispensation ; directing 
 the whole of his conduct, w hile he should continue 
 here, in such a manner as most cfTectually to j)ro- 
 luotc the honour of his Father and the salvation 
 of his people: that at length he would voluntarily 
 
 * The flutcliinsonian divines in'ii^t mucli on the roven.int of rc- 
 denrtption, as entered iiitu by tlie thipe persons of the Trinity. See 
 these divines in general, and purticnlarly Duncan Forbes's Tlioughts 
 c'incernin;j ReIi;;Ion, the Abstract of Hutchinson's Worlix, and Cala- 
 sio's Concordance, by Komaine. 
 
 deliver himself to sufferings and death, and remain 
 for a time in the grave ; and also, that after his re- 
 surrection and ascension into Heaven, he would 
 employ his renewed life and extensive authority in 
 the mediatorial kingdom to the same great pur- 
 poses, which engaged him to become incarnate. 
 See Psal. xl. O—V. Heb. x. 5—10. Isa. Ixi. 1—3. 
 Luke iv. 18, &c. Isa. i. e, 6. Peirce oh Heb. x. 5. 
 
 2. God the Father, on the other hand, stipulated 
 that he would, by his miraculous power, produce 
 Christ's human body in the womb of the virgin ; 
 that he would strengthen him by the gifts and 
 graces of his Holy Spirit for the extraordinary w ork 
 before him ; that lie would raise him from the dead, 
 and set him at his right hand, giving him a uni- 
 versal command over the whole created world, as 
 the judge of which he should at length appear; in 
 the mean time, that he would send forth the influ- 
 ences of his Spirit to confirm his doctrine, so that 
 hereby it should be established even among the 
 Gentile nations; and that, besides all the advan- 
 tages which others might receive, they who were 
 predestinated to life, and were in a peculiar man- 
 ner given to him, should in fact be regenerated by 
 divine grace, and strengthened even to the end, and 
 after death should be made completely happy in 
 their whole persons in his heavenly kingdom for 
 ever. See (besides the Scriptures quoted, Def. 89. 
 Schol.) Isa. vii. 14; xi. 2, &c. ; Hi. 13—1.5; liii. 
 10 — 12; Iv. 4, 5; xlix. 1-^12. compared with Luke 
 ii. 32. 2 Cor. vi. 2. and Rev. vii. 16, 17. Psal. ii. 
 7 — 9; ex. 1. Mich. v. 4. Luke xxii. 29. John v. 
 22—29. Heb. xii. 2. Berry-st. Leo. vol. i. p. 232. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 As we before observed, Def. 89. Schol. that the 
 reality of this covenant would follow from the dis- 
 tinct personal existence of Christ, and his interpo- 
 sition in the prophecies, so, on the other hand, 
 from those Scriptures here enumerated, which more 
 directly prove that covenant, we may draw another 
 argument for the pre-existcnee of Christ, as a dis- 
 tinct pliilosophical person from the Father, distinct 
 from and independent upon tliose arguments urged 
 Prop. 120. Burn, on Redemp. p. 25. 
 
 scholii;m 1. 
 
 This may seem a proper place to inquire into the 
 extent of redemption, or that celebrated question, 
 For whom Christ died ; but all that is important on 
 tliat liead has been said under the preceding pro- 
 positions. Prop. 139, 140, 142. If those relating to 
 predestination and special grace be allow ed, as also 
 those concerning the divine prescience and decrees 
 in general, then it evidently follows, there was a 
 sense, in which Christ might be said to die for all, 
 as all men partake of some benefit by his death, 
 and such provision is made for their salvation as 
 lays the blame of their ruin, if they miscarry, en- 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 465 
 
 tirely upon themselves ; but it was in a very pecu- 
 liar and much nobler sense that he died for the 
 elect, intending evidently to secure for them, and 
 only for them, the everlastings blessings of his Gos- 
 pel ; and it seems that the Scripture uses such a 
 latitude and variety in the sense of the phrase, 
 otherwise it will he very difficult to make one part 
 of it agree with another. Comp. on the one hand, 
 the texts quoted Prop, 136. Cor. 3. and on the other, 
 John X. 15, 16,26 ; xvii. 2, 9, 16. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is objected, That if Christ did in any sense die 
 for all, then forasmuch as all are not saved, the 
 purposes of Christ's death are in many, and proba- 
 bly in most, instances frustrated. 
 
 Alls. Were we to say that the only end of Christ's 
 death was, that all men might actually obtain eter- 
 nal life, the objection might be just ; but it may be 
 said, the purposes of Christ's death are various, and 
 the ultimate end of it was to glorify God in the 
 actual salvation of all believers, and the giving 
 others such advantages as should silence them, and 
 justify God in their condemnation and punishment, 
 for wilfully rejecting his mercy. It plainly appears, 
 in fact, that this matter can be carried no further ; 
 for the hypothesis of the actual salvation of all at 
 last, is so contrary to Scripture, as to be entirely 
 insupportable, as we shall show in the progress of 
 this Work (vid. Prop. 163. Schol. 3.) ; and, indeed, 
 the granting this great absurdity would not tho- 
 roughly relieve us from the difficulty here mentioned ; 
 for the coming of Christ into our world is repre- 
 sented as in prosecution of a design, to prevent the 
 condemnation of men, not to rescue and to recover 
 them from the final sentence of the judgment-day. 
 I 1 Thess. i. 10. John iii. 16—18 ; v. 24. 
 
 ' SCHOLUM 3. 
 
 It is urged, That instead of magnifying, it rather 
 asperses, the Divine goodness, to say, that he ap- 
 pointed Christ to bring those into a salvable state 
 whom he certainly knew would never be saved ; 
 since this, instead of being any favour to them, lays 
 a foundation for tormenting reflections at last. It 
 is answered. That on these principles it is unkind- 
 ness in God to bestow any advantages of genius or 
 circumstances, which he knew men would, through 
 their own wilful folly, abuse to their detriment ; 
 but God is to be considered as dealing with rational 
 creatures in a way suitable to their rational nature ; 
 and if they will turn the gifts of his providence or 
 grace to their own disadvantage, they only are 
 I responsible for it; nor will they find either their 
 refuge or comfort in an ungrateful denial of the 
 reality or importance of the mercies they abuse. 
 
 Baxter's End of Controv. c. xi. xii. § 5. 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 There is perhaps a reference to this covenant of 
 2 H 
 
 redemption in Heb. vii. 22. and Christ is commonly 
 said to have been the surety of the elect, as he 
 undertook for them that they should, through the 
 influences of divine grace, be in fact brought to 
 faith and salvation (compare 2 Cor. i. 20.) ; hence 
 some have inferred that they were actually justi^ed 
 from eternity, and consequently are in a justified 
 state, even while they are going on in a course of 
 unrepented sin ; but this seems most directly con- 
 trary to the whole tenor of Scripture ; and it is cer- 
 tain that, on the same principles on which they may 
 Jjc said to be justified, they may also be said to be 
 glorified from eternity. If the expression be in- 
 tended to signify no more, than that God purposed 
 to justify them, it is not denied ; but it is a most 
 improper way of speaking, and the arguments drawn 
 from thence in favour of any kind of licentiousness 
 are utterly inconclusive. 
 
 Will. Gosp. Tr. c. i ; Works, vol. iii.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Some have thought that the whole human race 
 would have been destroyed by the death of Adam, 
 immediately on his first transgression, if God had 
 not purposed, by Christ, to bring them into such a 
 state as should make necessary provision for their 
 deliverance from those evils to which they were 
 subjected by his sin. Rom. v. 12 — 21. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLIV. 
 To lay down the Scripture doctrine relating to 
 the intercession of Christ. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTKATION. 
 
 1. Christ is expressly said in many places of 
 Scripture to intercede ; i. c. to plead with God in 
 favour of his people. Rom. viii. 34. Heb. vii. 25. 
 I John ii. 1. 
 
 2. The appearance of the high priest among the 
 Jews, in the presence of God, on the day of atone- 
 ment, wlicn he presented before him the blood of 
 the sin-offering, is at large referred to by St. Paul, 
 as illustrating the intercession of Christ. Heb. ix. 
 11—14, 22—26; x. 19—21. 
 
 3. The appearance of Christ in his Father's pre- 
 sence, in that body wherein he suffered on the cross, 
 though with such alterations as are suited to the 
 heavenly state, may be considered as a virtual in- 
 tercession, as the appearance of the high priest on 
 the day of atonement, referred to above, seems to 
 have been ; for we find no form of words prescribed 
 on this occasion, as there are upon some others, 
 where they might seem less necessary, considering 
 
 * Recent JivineR, who have gone to the height of supralapsariau 
 f alvinism, arc Mr. Brine and Dr. (Jill. 
 
466 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 the nmiiucr in which the niiiiil would bo ovriawod 
 in liri uinstanccs of such unparalleled soleninitj. 
 Vid. Lev. xvi. pass. 
 
 4. Nevertheless, it does not seem proper to take 
 upon us positively to assert. That our Lord docs 
 never i t rhalli/ interecde for his people ; that beiiip; 
 a point which Scripture does not appear to have 
 absolutely determined either way. 
 
 3. However it be that our Lord expresses his 
 lixed and determined desire and demand in favour 
 of his people, we may assure ourselves, that, on the 
 one hand, it is in a manner consistent with that 
 dignity and authority to which he is now advanced ; 
 and, on the other, that it is always successful for 
 the vindication and preservation of his people, and 
 the acceptance of their services, (compare Zech. iii. 
 1,2. Rom. viii. 33, 34. Rev. viii. 3, 4.) with refer- 
 ence to which, he is described as an advocate or 
 patron of his own people, continually residing in 
 the court of ITeaven. 
 
 Bp. Ilopk. Sei: p, 523. Christ the Med. p. 73. 
 Scott's Chris. Life, vol. iii. p. 757. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It must be the duty of Christians to maintain 
 frequent rcj?ards to the intercession of Christ in their 
 addresses to God, and to comfort themselves with 
 the thoughts of such a jsfuardian and advocate, in the 
 midst of those dangers to wliich they are here ex- 
 posed. Lard. Serm. vol. ii. p. 287. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 The consideration of Christ's intercession is an 
 engagement to serious humility, faith, and fervour 
 in prayer, peculiar to tlie Christian dispensation. 
 
 Law of Chris. Perfect, p. 237. 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 If there be any thing verbal in the intercession of 
 Christ, there is no reason to believe that he is 
 actually speaking to God at all times without inter- 
 mission, which would be inconsistent with other 
 things which the Scripture tells us, relating to that 
 state of majesty and authority in which he appears. 
 There is a sulTicient foundation for saying, as tlie 
 apostle does, that he makes continual intercession 
 for us, if, perhaps, at some stated seasons of peculiar 
 solemnity, some express declaration be made, of 
 his habitual desire, that his people may receive the 
 benefits purchased by his death, and of his readi- 
 ness to appear under the character of their mediator 
 and advocate, in any particular instances, as occa- 
 sion may require ; or even if his appearance in the 
 body in which he suffered be intended as such a 
 virtual declaration, though icords should never be 
 used. Compare Luke ii. 37. I Thess. i. 2, 3 ; ii. 13 ; 
 v. 17. Exod. xxix. 39, 42. 2 Sam. ix. 7. Job i. 5. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It may be questioned, what end the intercession 
 of Christ can answer. It cannot be intended to re- 
 
 mind tlie Divine Hcing of any thing which he would 
 othcrw ise forget, Jior to persuade him to any thing 
 which he is not disposed to do ; but it may serve to 
 illustrate the majesty and holiness of the Father, 
 and the wisdom and grace of the Son ; not to say 
 tliat it may have other unknown uses with respect 
 to the inhabitants of the invisible world : it is cer- 
 tainly a great comfort and encouragement to 
 believers under their many infirmities ; and indeed 
 it is impossible to enter into the beauty of the Gos- 
 pel scheme in general, without observing how it is 
 accommodated to the nature and circumstances of 
 fallen imperfect creatures. 
 
 Berry-st. Lect. vol. i. p. 391. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXVII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It has been urged as an objection against the 
 Christian scheme in general, that it appoints our 
 worshipping God through a mediator ; which (say 
 some) derogates from the divine goodness, leads us 
 into a neglect of God, is a sort of indecency, when 
 we consider that wc arc always in his presence, and 
 may lay a foundation for many superstitions, as it 
 is said in fact to have done in the Roman church. 
 
 To this it is replied, 
 
 1. That the goodness of God is most eminently 
 displayed in that constitution by which his guilty 
 creatures may be most effectually imboldcned in 
 their addresses to him, and yet at the same time re- 
 minded in every approach of their own sinfulness 
 and unworthiness, and of the displeasure of God 
 which is consequent upon it ; which ends seem 
 to be excellently answered by appointing his Son 
 to be the Mediator of our approaches. 
 
 2. The Christian scheme directs us not to termi- 
 nate our regards in the Mediator ; but to address 
 our petitions to God throurjh him ; and every where 
 represents it as his office to bring us to God. 
 
 3. It is so far from being an indecency to approach 
 a sovereign by the person he appoints to introduce 
 us to him, that if such an appointment be made, 
 (for which in some cases there may be an apparent 
 reason,) it would be a great indecency to come 
 directly and immediately to him. 
 
 4. The propensity of mankind to make use of 
 mediators of their own choosing and inventing, 
 which appeared among the Heathens, and still ap- 
 pears in the church of Rome, jjlainly shows how 
 well the notion of a mediator is suited to the com- 
 mon apprehension of mankind ; and it seems that 
 no wiser provision could be made, to prevent their 
 multiplying such mediators, than appointing one 
 such illustrious person as the Scripture exhibits 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 407 
 
 under this character, who consequently would be 
 wronged by such a supposed multiplication. 
 
 Tind. Chris, p. 73. Butl. Anal. c. v. p. 284. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is to be remembered, in all the Christian doc- 
 trine relating both to the atonement and intercession 
 of Christ, that we are to consider him as a person 
 graciously appointed hy God to this purpose ; which, 
 if it be duly attended to, will prevent the apprehen- 
 sion, as if God were the less gracious, or our obli- 
 gations to the Father at all diminished, by those we 
 are under to the Son. 1 Cor. i. 30. 2 Cor. v. 18. 
 Eph. i. 3—6, 9, 11, 12. 1 Pet. i. 2—5. Heb. v. 4, 5. 
 
 Bourn's Ser. Vol. ii. p. 175. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 The priestly office of Christ has generally been 
 explained as executed in his offering himself as a 
 sacrifice to God for us, and interceding with God 
 upon this sacrifice ; but Mr. Peirce, and most of the 
 Socinians, suppose it only to consist in the latter ; 
 and Mr. Peirce argues from Heb. viii. 4. That the 
 execution of it bet/an upon Christ's entering into 
 Heaven ; but the text in question only proves that 
 Christ, being of the tribe of Judah, could not, ac- 
 cording to the Mosaic law, be a priest to minister 
 in the Jewish temple, which none can reasonably 
 maintain that he was. Compare Heb. vii. 14. Never- 
 theless, as the apostle often assures us that he is a 
 priest of a higher order, all that he has done and 
 suflFercd to make atonement for the sins of men, 
 may, according to the most common acceptation of 
 the word, be called a series of sacerdotal actions ; 
 as it is certain there were many acts of atonement 
 performed by Mosaic priests, besides that which 
 passed on the great days of atonement ; and sacri- 
 fices were sometimes offered with acceptance by 
 those who were not regularly priests. Compare 
 Judges vi. 25, 26 ; xiii. 10. 1 Kings xviii. 33, 38. 
 
 Emhjn's Serm. p. 32C. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Some have thought the comparative smallness 
 and meanness of this earth of ours, as it appears 
 upon the justest principles of astronomy, to be 
 
 something inconsistent with the system of doctrines 
 laid down in several preceding propositions, in 
 which so great a person is represented as dying 
 and sufi'ering so much to promote our happiness. 
 But it may be answered, 
 
 1. That we know not what influence the history 
 of our redemption by the death of the Son of God, 
 and salvation by his continued care, may have 
 throughout all eternity upon the rest of God's 
 rational creation, to whom it may be made known. 
 Compare Eph. iii. 10. 1 Pet. i. 12. The monuments 
 of God's displeasure against sin and compassion to 
 sinners, will no doubt for ever remain ; and per- 
 haps the happiness of all the redeemed from among 
 men may bear a very small proportion to the whole 
 sum of happiness arising to other beings, from the 
 knowledge and remembrance of it. Compare Rev. 
 v. 11—14. 
 
 2. That if we consider, as we shall afterwards 
 endeavour to show, that the appearance of God's 
 own Son in the flesh is a glorious victory which he 
 has obtained over the Prince of Darkness, the 
 meanness of those creatures, who are made finally 
 triumphant through Christ, as the great Captain of 
 salvation, may render the power and grace of God 
 in him more illustrious than it could have been, had 
 the creatures so redeemed and delivered been ori- 
 ginally of a nobler order, and fixed in a more con- 
 siderable state and abode. 
 
 3. That if (as may hereafter be shown) the anrjelic 
 order of beings are by this means confirmed in a 
 state of indefectible happiness, and in<!orporated 
 with the glorified saints in one holy and triumphant 
 society, (Eph. i. 10 ; iii. 15. Heb, xii. 22—24.) it is 
 an important circumstance added to both the former 
 to obviate the objection, and seems to have pro- 
 ceeded on the same principles which determined 
 God to choose that the Redeemer should appear 
 in the form of a poor and destitute infant, and that 
 of a mean man, rather than of some mighty prince, 
 while here upon earth. 
 
 Baker's Reft, on Learn, p. 97. Whist. Theory, 
 Intr. p. 58. Tayl. Key to Rom. % 131, Stc. 
 p. .52. 
 
 2 H 2 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 PART IX. 
 
 SURVEY OF THE DUTIES THE GOSPEL REQUIRES, AND ITS POSITIVE 
 INSTITUTIONS; AVHEREIN THE CHRISTIAN SABBATH, SACRAMENTS, 
 AND THE CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH, ARE CONSIDERED. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXVIII. 
 
 DEFINITION XC. 
 The covenant wliicli is made between God and 
 those wlio believe the Gospel, whereby they declare 
 their subjection to him, and he declares his accept- 
 ance of them and favour to them, is commonly called 
 by divines the covenant of grace. 
 
 DEFLMTION XCI. 
 Any covenant, whereby God requires perfect 
 obedience from his creatures, in such a manner as to 
 make no express provision for the pardon of offences 
 to be committed against the precepts of it, on the 
 repentance of such supposed offenders, but pro- 
 nounces a sentence of death upon them, may be 
 called A COVENANT OF WORKS, whatever the par- 
 ticular duties required by it may be. 
 
 COROU-ARY 1. 
 
 The covenant made with Adam, as described 
 above, Prop. 134. Cor. was a covenant of works. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 What was peculiar to the covenant made with 
 Tsracl at mount Sinai, seems to have been at least 
 in a great measure a covenant of works ; for though 
 it made some provision for purification from cere- 
 monial pollutions, and for the pardon of the offender ; 
 I. e. for his restoration to the privileges of the Jewish 
 republic, upon his offering the appointed sacrifices 
 for sins of ignorance and inadvertency, — yet it pro- 
 nounced sentence of death on all that presump- 
 tuously offended, appointing no sacrifice at all for 
 such, but declaring the curse of God to be upon all 
 that continued not in all things which were writ- 
 ten in the book of the law to do them. Numb. xv. 
 30, 31. Deut. xxvii. 26. Gal. iii. 10— 12. Rom. x. 5. 
 Berry-street Lect. vol. i. p. 274. Wits. Econ. 
 Fad. lib. iv. c. iv. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLV. 
 To inquire into the constitution of the covenant of 
 r/race, or the mutual stipulations of it. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. God promises to believers the full pardon of 
 all their past sins, how great and aggravated soever 
 they may have been ; the influences of his Spirit, 
 whereby they may be enabled to resist temptations. 
 
 to discharge the duties of life, and to persevere in 
 their Christian course to the end of it. He also 
 engages to dispose all the affairs of life for them in 
 the most gracious manner, and at death to receive 
 their departed spirits to a state of happiness, till at 
 last their bodies be raised, and their wholo persons 
 made completely and eternally blessed. Heb. viii. 
 10—12. Jer. xxxii. 38 — 40. Ezek. xxxvi. 25—27. 
 Rom. viii. 28. Psal. Ixxiii. 24. Rev. xiv. 13. Tit. 
 i. 2. John vi. 40. 
 
 2. They, on the other hand, engage that, by the 
 assistance of his grace, they will make it their care 
 and endeavour to render sincere and universal 
 obedience to all the discoveries and intimations of 
 the will of God, with regard to their duty to God, 
 to the Redeemer, to their fellow-creatures, or to 
 themselves, not making a reserve in favour of any 
 sin whatsoever ; and they engage to make this their 
 main care, even to the end of their lives ; and that 
 they will openly maintain their Christian profession, 
 whatever circumstances of danger or difficulty may 
 arise, and how expensive soever such a series of 
 faithful services may prove ; on the whole, depend- 
 ing for their acceptance With God, not upon the 
 merit of their own complete obedience, but on the 
 riches of his free grace manifested in and by Christ. 
 Rom. vi. 13 ; xii. 1. Heb. xii. 9. Tit. ii. 11—14. 
 Matt. X. 32, 39 ; xvi. 24—26. Luke xvii. 9, 10. Gal. 
 V. 4, 5. The demonstration of most of these par- 
 ticulars may be found in the preceding propositions, 
 or will be more particularly exhibited in those that 
 follow ; and the whole tenor of Scripture does so 
 plainly run this way, as to render it less necessary 
 to attempt a full enumeration of all the passages, 
 which may be brought to illustrate what has been 
 asserted. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 They misrepresent the nature of this covenant 
 who consider it merely under the notion of an abso- 
 lute promise on God's part, which indeed can, pro- 
 perly speaking, be no covenant at all, (compare Def. 
 45.) and who represent all that we have to do as 
 consisting in casting ourselves upon that promise, 
 and passively leaving ourselves to God, to do what 
 he pleases with us, in subserviency to his own 
 gracious purpose concerning us. Compare 
 
 Bostock on Cov. Ratns. Princ. vol. i. p. 307. 
 Doddr. Rise and Proy. c. xvii. p. 161. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 469 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 There have been various dispensations of this 
 covenant to the people of God in different ages of 
 the church. Obscure intimations were given to the 
 patriarchs, and to Israel by Moses and the prophets, 
 as was shown above ; and it seems to have been 
 gradually opened, till at length it was fully revealed 
 to the apostles after the effusion of the Spirit upon 
 them, and was probably the word of wisdom in their 
 mouths. Vid. Prop. 117. § 1. gr. 1. Perhaps the 
 gradual openings of it are nowhere better repre- 
 .sented than in 
 
 Watts's Harm, of Div. Disp. Watso7i's Theol. 
 Tracts, vol. i. p. 8. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It has been debated, whether the covenant made 
 with Abraham, of which circumcision was the ap- 
 pointed token, were that covenant of grace, or merely 
 a temporal covenant, relating to the land of Canaan, 
 and other secular blessings to be conferred upon 
 his seed. It seems most reasonable to conclude 
 that it comprehended spiritual blessings, 
 
 1. Because otherwise there would not have been 
 a proper foundation for God's calling himself their 
 God, which must import being their friend with 
 regard to their highest and most important interests. 
 Matt. xxii. 32. Heb. xi. 16. 
 
 2. The apostle seems expressly to have decided 
 this question, both when he calls circumcision a 
 seal of the righteousness of faith, Rom. iv. 11. (j. c. 
 the token of Abraham's being accepted with God as 
 righteous, upon his believing ;) and also, when he 
 declares that believers are the children of Abraham, 
 as heirs of the blessings promised to him. Rom. iv. 
 11—17. Gal. iii. 6—9, 14—17, 29. Compare Gen. 
 xvii. 4 — 12. which contains the greatest and most 
 excellent promises any where made to Abraham and 
 his seed, and consequently must include spiritual 
 blessings, if such blessings are any where included, 
 as we have shown they are.* 
 
 Wits. Econ. Feed. 1. iv. c. iii. § 10—23. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 We readily allow that there were temporal pro- 
 mises made to Abraham, of the multiplication of 
 bis seed, of an inheritance in the land of Canaan, 
 and the deliverance of his descendants from the 
 Egyptian bondage ; and some of those promises 
 were undoubtedly sealed to them by circumcision, 
 on condition that they submitted to the particular 
 statute law given by God to the Jewish nation : but 
 it seems reasonable to suppose that circumcision, 
 considering the view in which it was originally 
 instituted, did likewise import that the infants cir- 
 cumcised should be considered, not as under a 
 
 * In Dr. Taylor's Tract, entitled Tlie Covenant of Grace, and Bap. 
 tism the Token of it, explained mmn Scripture Principles, the Nature 
 wiU Extent of Uie Abraliamic Covenant are particularly considered. 
 «• also liis Notes upon St. Paul's Epistle to the Roman?, p. 272—277 
 
 covenant of works, but that, on their believing, as 
 their father Abraham did, they should also be 
 entitled to those spiritual blessings which he by 
 faith received ; as the seeming rigour of the Sinai 
 covenant might be intended to awaken their minds 
 to search for those intimations of Gospel grace 
 which were given; (though with such degrees of 
 obscurity as suited the gradual openings of the grand 
 scheme ;) and to endear to thcra any such disco- 
 veries, when they were convinced of the necessity of 
 seeking justification and life in that way of humble 
 faith in which Abraham their father found it ; and 
 in this view they are likewise a lesson to all Chris- 
 tians. Rom. iv. and Gal. iii. 24, 25. Rom. v. 20, 21. 
 And the awful solemnity with which the Mosaic law 
 was promulgated from Mount Sinai, might not a 
 little subserve this great purpose. Heb. xii. 18 — 29. 
 
 Watts's Harm, of Div. Disp. p. 40. 
 
 LECTURE CLXXXIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLVI. 
 To inquire into the principal heads of Christian 
 duty, as they are laid down in Scripture. 
 
 LEMMA 
 
 Wc do not intend a large enumeration of Scrip- 
 tures on each head, by which it might easily be 
 shown that all the most considerable particulars 
 mentioned above in our ethical lectures, as branches 
 of the law of nature, are recommended in the Old 
 and New Testament : we shall here content ourselves 
 with a general survey ; only hinting that it might 
 not be an unprofitable employment to add such texts 
 of Scripture in their proper places to this lecture ; 
 to which purpose the collection in Dr. Gastrel and 
 Dr. Wright may be very serviceable. 
 
 Wright on Virtue, Sfc. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. With regard to God, we are evidently required 
 to love him above all, to consecrate ourselves en- 
 tirely to his service, to submit in all things to his 
 will, and to imitate his universal holiness ; which 
 must necessarily imply all those branches of divine 
 virtue, mentioned Prop. I. Matt. xxii. 37. Rom. vi. 
 11 ; xii. 1. Heb. xii. 9—11. Matt. v. 48. Eph. v. 1. 
 
 2. With regard to the Lord Jesus Christ, we are 
 required not only to receive him by such a faith as 
 has been before described, but to maintain such 
 habitual regards to him, (as our instructor, atone- 
 ment, intercessor, governor, guardian, strength, 
 example, and forerunner,) as are correspondent to 
 those relations in which he is represented as stand- 
 ing to us in the Scriptures, urged under preceding 
 propositions ; to which may be added, John x. 27. 
 
470 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Phil. iii. a. r.al. ii. 20. 1 Pet. i. 8. Heb. xii. 2. 
 1 Cor. xvi. 22. Eph. vi. ult. 
 
 3. As to the //('/// Spirit, wc arc required to pray 
 for it ; to (Mulcavour at all times to behave ourselves 
 in sueli a manner as that we amy not oflcnd it, and 
 forfeit his inllueiices; but, on tlie eontrary, may 
 enfjage a fuller eonimunieation of them. Luke xi. 
 
 13. 1 Thess. V. 19. Eph. iv. 30; v. 18. Gal. v. 25. 
 
 4. Towards enrh other, w c are required not only 
 carefully to maintain a harmless and inoffensive 
 conduct, but to take all opportunities of doing 
 good to the bodies and souls of our fellow-crcaturcs ; 
 and as a foundation of all friendly offices towards 
 them, to lo\e our neighbour as ourselves, and to do 
 to others as wc would they should do to us, and 
 this universally to all our fellow-creatures, not ex- 
 cepting even the w orst of our enemies. Phil. ii. 4. 
 Gal. vi. 2, 10. Matt. xxii. 39; vii. 12; v. 43—18. 
 Rom. xiii. 8—10. Col. iii. 12—14. Eph. v. 2. Rom. 
 
 xii. ult. 
 
 5. With regard to ourselves, we are required to 
 mortify our corporeal appetites, and so to regulate 
 our passions, that w e may not be transported into 
 any degree of intemperance, unchastity, rash anger, 
 excessive grief, or any other disorder of mind ; but 
 may keep ourselves in such a po.sture as to be 
 always fit for the service of God in the duties of 
 our respective stations and callings, in which we 
 are to employ ourselves therefore with diligence 
 and vigour, always maintaining a humble opinion 
 of our own abilities and improvements, arrogating 
 nothing to ourselves of merit before God, nor seek- 
 ing among men our own applause and honour, do- 
 minions, or possessions, but willingly giving place 
 to others, and in honour esteeming them better than 
 ourselves : and as such great prospects are opened 
 upon us in another life, we are cautioned against 
 being excessively attached to the things of the 
 present world, and urged to set our affections on 
 those of a better. Eph. v. 8. Col. iii. 5, 6. Rom. 
 
 xiii. 11—14. Matt. v. 27—30. Luke xii. 35. Rom. 
 xii. 11. Matt, xviii. 3, 4. Phil. ii. 3, &e. John xiii. 
 
 14. Luke xvii. 10. Matt. vi. 19, 20. Col. iii. 1, 2. 
 
 Wright's Cone, and Treatises. GastreVs Chris. 
 Institutes, c. vi. 
 
 COROLLAUY. 
 
 Such an evident agreement between the moral 
 part of Christianity and the law of nature, as de- 
 duced in the preceding parts of this work, is a great 
 confirmation of the divine original of the Gospel, 
 especially when compared with its external evi- 
 dence ; and makes it apparent that neither good men 
 nor angels would have published such a system of 
 morality, in connexion with a fraud, most contrary 
 to many of its fundamental branches. 
 
 Doddridge's 10 Sermons, p. 211, &c. 
 .SCHOl-lUM 1. 
 
 As image-worship was expressly forbidden to the 
 
 Jews, in numberless passages of their law and pro- 
 phets, so it was charged as an immorality upon the 
 Gentiles, Jer, x. 2, 3, &c. Acts xvii. 29. Rom. i. 
 21—25. 1 John v. 21. 
 
 Mogle's Posth. Works, vol. ii. p. 181. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Many have inferred from Matt. v. 33, 34. and 
 James v. 12. that oaths are in all cases forbidden to 
 Christians; but it is evident this prohibition can 
 only refer to .swearing in common conversation. 
 
 1. Because otherwise Christ must have charged 
 all swearing as an immorality in its own nature ; 
 for he says. Whatsoever is more than this, comes of 
 evil: now as swearing was in some cases expressly 
 required by the Mosaic law, {vid. Lev. v. 1. Numb. 
 XXX. 2. Exod. xxii. 11.) we cannot imagine that 
 Christ would have condemned it universally in 
 such terms as these. 
 
 2. Because Christ answered when interrogated 
 upon oath. Matt. xxvi. 63, 64. Mark xiv. 61. 
 
 3. Because St. Paul, who must no doubt be in- 
 structed in the will of Christ, does in several of his 
 writings make use of expressions equivalent to an 
 oath, at least much more than yea and nay. Rom. 
 i. 9. 1 Cor. XV. 31. 2 Cor. i. 18, 23. Gal. i. 20. 
 Phil. i. 8. 1 Thess. ii. 5. 
 
 4. Because the lawfulness of oaths on great and 
 important occasions seems to be granted. Heb. vi. 
 13 — 17. Compare Rev. x. 5, 6. Deut. xxxii. 40. 
 
 6. There are other passages in Christ's sermon 
 on the mountain, which, in order to make a rational 
 and consistent sense, must be interpreted in as 
 great a latitude as we here suppose in that passage, 
 on which the argument against swearing is built. 
 Matt. V. 39—42. Compare 1 Tim. v. 8. 
 
 Grot, de Jure, 1. ii. c. xiii. Tillot. Serm. vol. 
 i. p. 212. Besse's Def. of Quak. p. 202.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is debated whether those sorts of falsehoods, 
 which are called officious lies, i. e. such as seem in 
 their immediate consequence to tend to the advan- 
 tage rather than the detriment of mankind, be for- 
 bidden in Scripture. To prove them unlawful, the 
 following places are urged : Col. iii. 9. Eph. iv. 25. 
 Rev. xxi. 8. Rom. iii. 78. On the other hand, it 
 is urged that some instances of such falsehood are 
 mentioned in Scripture with approbation rather 
 than blame. Exod. i. 19, 20. Josh. ii. 5. compared 
 with Heb. xi. 31. Judges iv. 18, &c. compared with 
 V. 21 — 26. 2 Kings vi. 19. But it may be answered, 
 That where there does evidently appear to have 
 
 * Tlie absurdity and injustice of the oaths tliat wcie required at the 
 Kcvohition, .as nppliraljle to tlic case of tlie non-jurin); clergy, are ex. 
 Iiibited ill a tract entitled The Scripture Doctrine, History, and Laws, 
 relatiiiB to Oaths and Vows, Leaguci and Covenants, set torth in a full 
 and clear Lip;ht. For an ample and energetic display of the lolly, 
 iniipiity, and impiely of imprecatory oaths, and for much curious- 
 learning concerning the history of such oaths, recourse may be bad to 
 Mr. Herport's Essay on Truths of Importance to the Happiness of 
 Mankind, wherein the Doctrine of Oaths, as relative to religious and 
 civil Ciovernment, is impartially considered. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 been a falsehood in the preceding cases, (wliicli 
 perhaps in the last there was not,) it is by no means 
 plain that the falsehood was approved by God, 
 though the faith with which it was mixed, and 
 which was the leading principle in the main series 
 of action referred to, be applauded. That in some 
 instances, persons are allowed not to have been 
 bound by their oaths, is readily confessed ; i. e. 
 where the things which they swear to do were in 
 themselves unlawful, or when the oath was taken 
 by those who were not regularly in this respect sui 
 juris, or where the oath was made on a false sup- 
 position, occasioned by the fraud of those who 
 expected to receive advantage from it. 1 Sam. 
 XXV. 22, 23. Numb. xxx. 4, 5. Josh. ix. 7, 14, 15. 
 Grot, de Jure, 1. ii. c. xiii. § 4. Turret, vol. 
 ii. Shuchf. Hist. vol. ii. p. 212. 
 
 LECTURE CXC. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Divorce, except in cases of adultery, appears to 
 be so expressly forbidden by Christ, Matt. v. 32. 
 xix. 3 — 9. (compare 1 Cor. vii. 10, 11.) that it is 
 strange it should ever have been disputed among 
 Christians. To say, as some have done, that Tropvtta 
 does in the general signify any great crime, is very 
 arbitrary ; for though it is frequently put for idol- 
 atry in Scripture, it is then plainly used in a meta- 
 phorical sense, in which it is represented as a 
 breach of something analogous to a marriage cove- 
 nant between God and Israel. Compare Ezek. xvi. 
 8, 15, See. Nevertheless, many divines of great 
 note have maintained, that in case of obstinate de- 
 sertion in one of the parties, the other is thereby set 
 at liberty, since the very primarj- end of the mar- 
 riage covenant is defeated ; and liave thought the 
 case to be expressly determined by St. Paul, 1 Cor. 
 vii. 10 — 16. But it is to be remembered, that this 
 determination can only be applied when it is not 
 in the power of the party injured to procure the 
 return of the other by any legal process. It may be 
 alleged. It is so difficult to reconcile this interpreta- 
 tion with the decision of our Lord, and with what 
 Paul says, ver. 11. that perhaps it may be more 
 advisable to understand the liberty spoken of, as 
 relating to a liberty of continuing to live apart, 
 without eagerly soliciting a return to the party, by 
 whom the Christian had been on a religious account 
 thus injuriously dismissed. But it may be replied, 
 That ver. 11. above, determines on the case of the 
 believing wife having voluntarily withdrawn, and 
 not on that of her being divorced by her husband. 
 If the party that had committed the injury married 
 another, as that was adultery on Christ's decision. 
 
 there could be no doubt, but in that case the in- 
 jured party was at liberty to marry again. 
 
 Milt, on Divorce, 1. ii. p. 43. Puff, de Jure, 
 1. vi. c. i. Limb. Theol. 1. v. c. Ix. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It has been debated, iow far polygamy was 
 allowed in the Old Testament, or whether it were 
 not rather condemned. Mai. ii. 14 — 16. has been 
 urged in that view ; and some have apprehended 
 this to be the sense of Lev. xviii. 18. But it may 
 be answered. That the precept of marrying the 
 brother's widow, which was not limited to the case 
 of the succeeding brother's being a single man, 
 might require polygamy in some cases, and that the 
 providing for it so expressly in others, (Deut. xxi. 
 15. Exod. xxi. 10.) plainly shows the law is not to 
 be interpreted in this sense : and indeed one can 
 hardly imagine, that had polygamy been regarded 
 as adultery in the sight of God, he would have 
 favoured the patriarchs who lived in it with such 
 intimate converse and friendship ; not to insist on 
 the argument from 2 Sam. xii. 8. seeing ver. 11. 
 may seem a difficult reply. The decision of Christ, 
 Matt. xix. 4 — 6. and that of the apostle, 1 Cor. vii. 
 2. docs indeed plainly show that it was not to bo 
 practised by Christians; and Matt. xix. 9. especially 
 intimates it to be a kind of adultery ; i. e. some 
 breach of the seventh commandment. Compare 
 Matt. V. 28. Nevertheless, it is nowhere expressly 
 declared that, if a person, who before married 
 several wives, were converted to Christianity, he 
 must be obliged to put away all but the first : it 
 seems that the Holy Spirit judged it sufficient to 
 discountenance polygamy by such intimations as 
 these above mentioned, and also by declaring those 
 who practise it incapable of the ministerial office, 
 which was certainly a proper brand of infamy set 
 upon it. 1 Tim. iii. 2. 
 
 Owen's Theol. 1. v. c. x. liower's Hist, of 
 Popes. Reflect, on Polyg. p. 7, &C.* 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 That incest was condemned under the old law as 
 an immorality of the heathens. Lev. xviii. 24 — 27. 
 and is also in one instance spoken of by the apostle 
 with great abhorrence, (I Cor. v. 1, 13.) is evident ; 
 but there is a great deal of room to debate how far 
 those degrees of affinity and consanguinity, within 
 whicli it was unlawful for the Jews to contract mar- 
 riage, are to be a rule for us. The cliief question ia 
 about the lawfulness of marrying a brotltei-'s wife, 
 which the express precept fordoing it in *o?/it' cases 
 proves not to be a natural inmiorality, though it 
 were forbidden in others; yet, from Lev. xviii. 18. 
 it may well be questioned whether the marrying 
 two sisters successively, were by the Mosaic law for- 
 
 * The late Mr. Martin Madan's Work, entitled Theh/phthora, and 
 (lie publications occasioned by it, are referred to under Proposition lix. 
 
47i 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 bidden ; though wlicrc the civil law of a country 
 forbids such inarriajfcs, it is certainly much better 
 to avoid contracting them. 
 
 mount's Oracles of Reason, p. 135. 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 It is most evident that Scripture requires obe- 
 dience to governors, (Rom. xiii. 1 — 6. Tit. iii, 1. 
 1 Pet. ii. 13, 14, 17.) but it has been the subject of 
 great dispute Iiow far these precepts extend. All 
 grant that tlicy cann it oblige us to do any thing in 
 obedience to the magistrate which is contrary to the 
 divine law ; compare Acts iv. 19. but many have 
 maintained unlimited passive obedience, and the un- 
 lawfulness of resistance in subjects upon any con- 
 sideration whatsoever. The controversy is too large 
 to be fully examined here ; but the following 
 general remarks may be of use, when inquiring 
 into it. 
 
 1. That it is in itself very unlikely tbat so bene- 
 volent a sclieme as that of the Gospel should be so 
 calculated, as necessarily to destroy the civil rights 
 of mankind, and to enslave free nations, depriving 
 the subject of those privileges which express con- 
 tract had given them, in those countries, where 
 either a monarchy or aristocracy was limited by 
 law ; so that it may reasonably be expected, that 
 very strong proofs be brought of this, before a thing 
 so improbable can be admitted. 
 
 2. That there are many general prohibitions in 
 Scripture, which common sense requires us to ex- 
 plain with some limitations. Vid. Sc/iol. 2. 
 
 3. The apostles did no doubt intend to teach 
 Christians that they ought to be very cautious how 
 they disturb a government ; and if any circum- 
 stances arise, in which it appears probable that re- 
 sistance will occasion more evil than good to the 
 public, then the texts quoted above enforce the 
 obligation which Christians are under, by the gene- 
 ral laws of the Gospel, as well as those of nature, 
 cautiously to forbear it. 
 
 4. The chief argument on wliieh the apostle in- 
 sists, (Rom. xiii.) will not infer unlimited passive 
 obedience. 
 
 5. Christianity was in the apostle's time in so 
 weak a state, that Christians, as such, might be 
 under some obligation to further submission than 
 in all cases can now be required; and it would 
 have been a liazardous matter, and perhaps liable 
 to great abuses and scandal, if the apostles had en- 
 tered nicely into various circumstances, and stated 
 the case when resistance is, and when it is not, law- 
 ful ; which, under so unrighteous and tyrannical 
 a government as the Roman, might easily have been 
 interpreted as sedition : it was therefore prudent to 
 rest in such general advices and cautions to obe- 
 dience, as to be sure do commonly though not 
 universally oblige. 
 
 G. Nevertheless, if it should on the whole be 
 
 acknowledged that subjects are in all cases bound 
 to submit to the supreme power, (which is not by any 
 means proved from the texts above quoted,) yet it 
 would not follow from thence, that where the su- 
 preme legislative power is, as among us, divided 
 among viani/ jiersons, ail the other branches of it, 
 and all tiic people subject to it, must therefore uni- 
 versally submit to him, in whom the supreme execu- 
 tive power is lodged ; i. c. that the king is to be 
 obeyed, without and against the consent of his 
 parliaments. 
 
 Blacliw. Serm. Sacliev. Trial. Trial of the 
 Seven Bishops. 
 
 LECTURE CXCI. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 Few Christians have questioned the lawfulness 
 of war ; but the Quakers deny it, and urge Matt. v. 
 38 — 11. Rom. xii. 17—21. and Matt. xxvi. 52. For 
 an answer to tlie first of these texts, see Schol. 2. 
 As to the second, it is granted that revenr/e is there 
 forbidden ; but if any circumstances shall arise, in 
 which we are persuaded, that by resisting evil and 
 endeavouring to punish the aggressor, the public 
 good will be promoted, resistance may be made, 
 and punishment executed, without any degree of 
 malice against the oU'enders. And as to Matt. xxvi. 
 52. our Lord cannot be understood, rj. d. " they that 
 have recourse to the sword, shall perish by the 
 righteous judgment of God," since war had been so 
 often undertaken, and prosecuted in its greatest 
 rigour, by an express divine command in the Old 
 Testament : it must therefore be considered only as 
 a determination on this particular case, to which 
 our Lord seems to have applied a proverbial ex- 
 pression among the Jews, that those who are 
 readiest to meddle with weapons of war, are often 
 the first that fall by them, and prove the occasion 
 of their own destruction. On the other hand, the 
 following Scriptures are often referred to discounte- 
 nancing, if not vindicating, arms, Luke iii. 14. Matt, 
 viii. 10. Acts X. 1, &c. But it is an argument of 
 much greater importance, that the doctrine we have 
 here been opposing would make every desperate 
 villain irresistible, and consequently would give up 
 all the property and lives in a city or province to 
 one such person ; and this, even though the person 
 denying resistance or war should allow of magis- 
 tracy ; for the decree of the magistrate against such 
 a one could not regularly take place till he lias been 
 brought to a trial, which on this hypothesis he could 
 not be, or till he proceeded for want of such ap- 
 pearance to an outlawry, and then it could not be 
 executed, without such a forcible attack upon that 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 473 
 
 person as this principle opposes. The common law 
 therefore of benevolence to society requires an 
 assault on such a person, which does not imply any 
 such malevolence to him as is inconsistent with the 
 Christian temper in its greatest heights. 
 
 Grot, cle Jure, 1. i. c. ii. Def.of Quak. p. 212. 
 It must indeed be allowed, that many of the pri- 
 mitive Christians scrupled the lawfulness of war ; 
 but they were not uniform in their opinions about 
 it, and if they had, no certain argument could 
 have been drawn from thence. See what Moyle 
 and King have written upon this subject, in the 
 curious controversy about the Thundering Legion. 
 
 Moyle' s Poslh. Works, vol. ii. p. 81, &c. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 9. 
 
 The oflSce of magistracy appears so absolutely 
 necessary, in order to preserve the peace of society, 
 (vid. Prop. 64, 69.) that it may justly be wondered, 
 especially considering the passages quoted, Scliol. 
 7. that any should have imagined it unlawful for a 
 Christian to bear such an office. The chief texts 
 urged in defence of so absurd a notion are. Matt. 
 XX. 23. Mark x. 42. Luke xxii. 25. but it is plain 
 our Lord there only intends to discourage the am- 
 bitious temper prevailing among the apostles, which 
 inclined them to contend about that secular power 
 which was not designed for any of them. Were 
 the interpretation here opposed to be admitted, it 
 would follow, either that there must be no magis- 
 trate at all in Christian countries, which would be 
 their utter dissolution and ruin, or else that magis- 
 trates who are not Christians must be established 
 among them, which is in itself very absurd, and 
 directly contrary to the whole of the apostle's 
 reasoning, 1 Cor. vi. 1, &c. Comp. Isa. xlix. 23. 
 
 Atterh. Serm. vol. ii. p. 89. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 10. 
 
 It is plain that the genius of the Gospel leads so 
 strongly to the exercise of love and benevolence, 
 that we can never believe that persecution for con- 
 science sake, which seems in the nature of things 
 so irrational and so mischievous, (Prop. 77.) should 
 make a part of that scheme, unless it were very 
 expressly asserted ; but tliis is so far from being the 
 case, that hardly so much as the shadow of an argu- 
 ment for persecution can be produced from the 
 whole New Testament ; and many passages of it 
 are most directly contrary to it, Luke ix. 33, .36. 2 
 Tim. ii. 24^26. 2 Cor. x. 4. Isa. xlii. 3. See also 
 Matt. xiii. 30. and it is no contemptible argument, 
 which is drawn from the silence of the New Testa- 
 ment, as to any use which miglit be made of the 
 secular power to enforce the truths of Christianity ; 
 for though it may be objected, That in the apostles' 
 time few Christians were possessed of such power, 
 yet it might have been convenient that some provi- 
 sion should be made against the time when that 
 power might come into their hands, since there 
 
 would otherwise be apparent danger of abusing it. 
 To which we may add, not only that Sergius Paulus 
 was a magistrate when converted,— but that the 
 power of masters over their slaves was so absolute, 
 that they might, on what penalties they pleased, 
 have obliged them to profess their own religion ; 
 yet there is not the least intimation that Christian 
 masters were to take any such advantages. On the 
 other side, the arguments drawn from Luke xiv. 23. 
 (compare Luke xxiv. 29.) and John xxi. 15. not to 
 mention Acts x. 13. are so ridiculous, as hardly to 
 deserve a particular examination. The chief argu- 
 ment from the New Testament is that drawn from 
 the corporal severities which were sometimes exer- 
 cised by the apostles. See 1 Cor. v. 5. Acts v. 5 ; 
 xiii. 11. iTim. i.20. But it is evident that punish- 
 ments miraculously inflicted on those that opposed 
 the Gospel, bad in their own nature such a tendency 
 to convince men's understandings, as those inflicted 
 by the magistrate in an ordinary way cannot pos- 
 sibly have. From the Old Testament, besides the 
 a?;gument taken from the penal laws of Moses, 
 (which was considered above. Prop. 120. § 6.) some 
 have urged Isa. xlix. 23. but this can only intimate 
 that Christian princes should by all regular methods 
 endeavour to promote the Gospel, and can never 
 prove persecution to be one of those methods. As 
 to the argument from Job xxxi. 28. it may be 
 granted that Job intimates by this, that there was 
 in his time in Arabia a law which punished idolatry, 
 and that he approved it ; at least, that he should 
 have approved it, if such a law had been enacted ; 
 but it will not by any means follow from hence, 
 that if there were such a law, it was of divine au- 
 thority, or that if he ai)proved of it, it was therefore 
 right; for it is plain that, in some instances, Job 
 had expressed himself in a very improper manner ; 
 and is not to be considered as under a plenary 
 inspiration. As to Zech. xiii. 3. which indeed is 
 one of the strongest texts of its kind, it may be 
 replied. Either that the peculiar law against idolatry 
 in the land of Israel shall still continue, after the 
 restoration of the Jews, God being still their tem- 
 poral King ; or else (which I should rather think) 
 that some converted Jews, warmed with a zeal for 
 the Gospel, but not thoroughly instructed in the 
 gentleness of its nature, shall be ready with their 
 own hands to put to death their own children, if 
 they should oppose it, upon a mistaken notion that 
 Deut. xiii. 1, &c. would be a warrant to them in so 
 doing; but that these converted Jews should be 
 under an infallible guidance in all their judgments 
 and actions, is nowhere intimated in Scripture by 
 any argument, which would not as well prove the 
 infallibility of the whole Christian church. 
 
 Limb. Theol. Eml. Life and Tr. v. i. p. 381.* 
 
 * To tlie further writers who have considered thissuhjcct, reference 
 has already beea made, p. 407. 
 
474 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 LECTURE CXCII. 
 
 PROrOSlTION CXLVII. 
 The oliligiilion of the precepts contained in the 
 New Testament continues so long as the reasons on 
 wliich they are founded continue, and ceases wlien 
 tl;c observation of any i)articular precei)t is incon- 
 sistent with another of a more general nature, or 
 of greater importance for promoting the essential 
 branches of virtue. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Many precepts are delivered in such a manner, 
 (hat they must necessarily admit of some excep- 
 tion, in order to reconcile them with each other, 
 and with the natural law of God, founded on the 
 mutual and inmiutable relation of things. Vid. 
 Prop. 14G. Schol. 2 and 8. 
 
 2. The law of Moses, which is delivered in as 
 general and universal a style as the precepts of 
 Christ, w as in some instances violated, w ithout any 
 crime, by those who were still in general under the 
 obligations of that law, 2 Chron. xxx. 17 — ^19. 
 (which seems not so proper an instance as some 
 have thought, see ver. 20.) 2 Sam. xxi. 9, 10, 14. 
 compared with Deut. xxi. 23. Matt. xii. 1 — 6. John 
 V. 8, 9. Luke xiii. 1.0. Hos. vi. 6. 
 
 Stillinff. Orig. Sac. lib. ii. c. vii. § 3. 
 
 3. When two precepts become inconsistent, one 
 of them must necessarily lose its force ; and it is 
 plainly fit that the more particular precept should 
 give way to the more general, and that which is of 
 less to that which is of greater moment. Rom. xiii. 
 8, 9. Matt. xii. 17. 
 
 1 — 3. 4. Valet propositio. 
 
 Witsii Ef/yp. lib. ii. c. xvi. § 5. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Precepts which depend upon reasons peculiar to 
 one age or people, do certainly lose their force in 
 other ages, and where other people only are con- 
 cerned. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 To this head we may properly refer the eating of 
 blood, which was forbidden to Noah and to his 
 descendants, Gen. ix. 4. (to which some have added 
 ver. 5. without reason : compare Exod. xxi. 2S. and 
 Ezek. iii. 18.) and by Moses to the Israelites, Lev. 
 xvii. 14. which prohibition, in both instances, seems 
 to have had a view to the use of sacrifices in divine 
 worship, and to have been intended as a mark of 
 respect to the altar, at which the blood of every 
 victim was presented before God as a solemn ac- 
 knowledgment that lie was the Lord of life ; ibid. 
 ver. 10 — 12. The eating of fat was also forbidden 
 in several of the same words, and on the same 
 principles: compare Lev. iii. 17; vii. 22 — 27. 
 Ulood was also forbidden to Christians in the 
 apostles' days, Acts xv. 20. not merely as Lord 
 
 Barrington, and after him Dr. Benson, have sup- 
 posed, to those who before their convei-sion had 
 been proselytes of the gate, (a distinction, by the 
 way, on which these authors lay a very dispropor- 
 tionate stress,) but to all Christiaiis whatsoever; 
 because the Jews had so strong an aversion to it, 
 that they could not have been persuaded to hold 
 civil or religious communion with those who used 
 it, (Acts XV. 20, 21.) so that it seems even in those 
 days (at least by any thing we can learn from any 
 apostolic decree) had there been any Christian 
 nation, among whom there were no Jews, since th6 
 institution of sacrifices ceased, the use of blood 
 would liave been an indiflercnt thing. Comp. Rom. 
 xiv. 14. 1 Tim. iv. 4. Matt. xv. 10, 11. And should 
 a considerable number of Jews be now kept out 
 of the Christian church by that alone, it would still 
 be the duty of those Christians among whom they 
 dwelt, to forbear the use of it, on the principles 
 stated by the apostle, 1 Cor. viii. per tot. Rom. xiv. 
 1,5 — 22. Many have indeed thought that there was 
 a moral evil in eating blood, supposing that it tends 
 to make men savage, and pleading from its being 
 joined with fornication, which is certainly an im- 
 morality ; but, not to say that Tropvtia is by many sup- 
 posed to signify marrying within those degrees of 
 consanguinity, or affinity, which were prohibited by 
 the Mosaic law, — it is plain there are some things 
 in their own nature indillerent, from which Chris- 
 tians in the Jerusalem decree were required to 
 abstain. As for things strangled, they seem to stand 
 much on the same footing with things that died of 
 themselves, from which the blood could not be 
 taken, while it could properly be called the life ; 
 yet the Mosaic law expressly allowed strangers to 
 eat of these, (Deut. xiv. 21.) which surely it would 
 not have done, if there had been any natural im- 
 morality in it ; but it is yet more important to 
 observe, that this very decree in question joins 
 things sacrificed to idols, in the list of what it pro- 
 hibits, together with fornication, though the apostle 
 expressly allows these, when they might be used 
 without giving offence. (1 Cor. viii. 1 — 9.) The 
 argument, from the tendency which blood has to 
 make men savage, may be allowed as concluding 
 against eating raw flesh ; but that does not seem 
 to be referred to in the apostle's precept under con- 
 sideration, though some think it is in the precept to 
 Noah. To say that this abstinence from blood is a 
 little instance of mortification, which God enjoins 
 to all Christians, in order to .show his supreme 
 power over all their enjoyments, as he forbade one 
 tree to Adam in Paradise, is merely an arbitrary 
 assertion, .since there is not the least hint in Scrip- 
 ture of its being forbidden for any such reason ; but 
 other reasons are assigned, which are of much less 
 general concern and obligation. 
 Spencer says blood was forbidden, in reference to 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 47o 
 
 some Heathen superstitions, in which, as he largely 
 proves, it was often not only offered, but tasted, by 
 idolaters ; and that the prohibition ceases now, 
 there being; no further danger of them ; but it seems 
 the apostles themselves did not think of this rea- 
 son, or lay so much stress upon it, as on the proba- 
 bility of offcndinof the Jews. Acts xv. 19 — 21. 
 
 Hooker's Eccl. Polity, p. 188. Barr. Misc. Sac. 
 vol. ii. Jenn. Jew. Ant. vol. i. p. 143. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The annintinri the sick, commanded in James v. 
 14. 1.5. was, in the apostles' days, a symbol of mira- 
 culous healing (Mark vi. 13.) ; and therefore the 
 reason of the precept ceasing, — its obligation must 
 also cease with it. 
 
 Burnet on Art. xxv. p. 266. Winston's Life, 
 vol. ii. p. 473, &c. 
 
 ' SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The imposition of hands in ordination, seems also 
 to depend upon the same foundation. It is certain 
 that it was in the apostles' time the means of con- 
 veying some extraordinary gift (Acts viii. 18. 1 
 Tim. iv. 14.) ; but as those gifts are now ceased, 
 the chief reason for observing this rite ceases with 
 them. Nevertheless, as it has been an ancient rite 
 of blessing, where no extraordinary gifts were con- 
 ferred, (Matt. xix. 15. Gen. xlviii. 14.) and seems 
 a natural way of desiyning or pointing out the per- 
 son prayed for, it may innocently be retained as a 
 thing indifferent ; but it is by no means to be im- 
 posed, or represented as of so important and essential 
 a nature, that the validity and usefulness of man's 
 future ministry should be supposed to depend upon 
 it in any degree. 
 
 Morrice's Dial, on Soc. Rel. p. 163. Kippis 
 at Wilton's Ordination. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Some who have apprehended the precept, Rom. 
 xiii. 1 — 4. did require unlimited passive obedience 
 to magistrates, have thought it was not intended 
 for a rule to Christians in all ages, but was peculiar 
 to the primitive times, when the Christians were 
 few and weak, and idolatrous princes would gladly 
 snatch at any opportunity or excuse for inllieting 
 punishments on the whole body of them, and would 
 have been ready to strain any passage in the apos- 
 tolic writings, to make them speak the language of 
 sedition and treason. It must be allowed, that at 
 least many of the j)rimitivc Christians did under- 
 stand the texts as forbidding all resistance ; but 
 that will not prove that the apostles did really mean 
 it so, it being very easy to find instances of their 
 mistaking the original sense of Scripture, and put- 
 ting some far more unnatural constructions upon 
 it than this in question. 
 
 Tert. Apol. c. 3.5, &c. Baxter's Life, vol. i. p. 
 368. Sav. Her. at the Kiny's Acces. p. 13. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Dr. Clarke thinks the cautions which our Lord 
 gave against carefulness, in bis Sermon on the 
 Mount, Matt. vi. 25, &c. belonged only to the apos- 
 tles ; and were intended to incline them to cast 
 themselves entirely upon an extraordinary Provi- 
 dence, without any care of their own ; but there 
 is no sufficient reason to admit this interpretation, 
 since, 
 
 1. It is probable this sermon was first preached 
 before the apostles were chosen. Vid. Dodd. Fam. 
 Expos, vol. i. § 53. note (a) ^. 325. 
 
 2. The same caution is elsewhere given to all 
 Christians. Phil. iv. 6. 1 Pet. v. 7. 
 
 3. It is connected with things of universal con- 
 cern. 
 
 4. It is enforced by arguments common to all ; 
 and, 
 
 5. It is inferred from the impossibility of serving 
 God and Mammon. 
 
 6. The apostles themselves were not to neglect 
 proper means of providing for themselves, where 
 Providence gave them an opportunity for it. Com- 
 pare Luke xxii. 35, 30. Acts xx. 34. 
 
 Clarke's Posth. Serm. vol. iii. p. 116. Blair 
 on Christ's Serm. on the Mount, vol. i. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Though there can be no good works of superero— 
 yation, i. e. which no law requires, because we are 
 always required to do our best in religion, (Matt. 
 V. 48; xxii. 37. 2 Cor. vii. 1.) yet there are some 
 rules given in Scripture which admit of so many 
 exceptions, that it was not convenient to deliver 
 them in the general form of precepts ; so that they 
 are rather to be considered as counsels, particularly 
 such as relate to a sinyle life, (Matt. xix. 12. 1 Cor. 
 vii. 26, 36, 38.) yet to those whose circumstances, 
 such passages suit, they are as obligatory as any of 
 the most express and universal cuiniuands (compare 
 Matt. xix. 21, 22.) ; to others they are not obligatory 
 at all (Acts v. 4.) ; every one must therefore judge 
 for himself in the sight of God, as to his own par- 
 ticular concern in such precepts ; and on this prin- 
 ciple 1 Cor. i.\. 16 — ly. may well be explained. 
 
 LECTURE CXCIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLVIII. 
 To enumerate the most considerable means of 
 virtue recommended in the Scripture, or deducible 
 from principles which are laid down there. 
 
 LEMMA. 
 
 Several of the particulars mentioned are not to 
 be regarded merely as the tneans of virtue, but also 
 
476 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 as in themselves rssoitial hranclics of our duty ; 
 but tlicv are here introdueed in the view of tliat 
 influence they have upon other things, which is 
 very fjreat. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. A familiar acquaintance not only with the 
 doctrines and precepts, but likewise with the his- 
 torical part, of Scripture, will be very subservient to 
 our improvement in virtue. Acts xx. 32. Koin. xv. 
 4. 1 Cor. X. 11. Jam. i. 21. 2 Tim. iii. 15, 16. Col. 
 iii. 16. 1 Pet. ii. 2. 
 
 2. We are cautiously to avoid, not only those 
 thinjj;s which arc in themselves evidently sinful, 
 but those which have the appearance of evil, and 
 maybe the probable means of insnaring us or others. 
 1 Thess. V. 22. Prov. xxiii. 31. Matt. vi. 13. 
 
 3. Fervent and constant application to God in 
 secret and social prayer. Matt. vi. 6 ; vii. 7. Eph. 
 vi. 18. Phil. iv. 6. 1 Thess. v. 17, 18. 1 Tim. ii. 8. 
 Heb. iv. 16 ; xiii. 15. Grove on Secret Prayer. 
 
 4. Christians are to assemble together for the 
 public worship of God, that thereby a solemn pro- 
 fession of religion may be made, that their affection 
 to each other may be testified and cultivated, and 
 that such instructions may be given as may tend to 
 improve their minds in knowledge and holiness, 
 Heb. X. 25. to which may be added the Scriptures 
 quoted under the following steps. 
 
 Holland's Sermon on Heb. x. 25. vol. i.* 
 
 5. It will evidently tend to render such assem- 
 blies more useful than they could otherwise be, that 
 there should be those appointed statedly to preside 
 over them ; and who for that purpose should apply 
 themselves with greater diligence than others to the 
 stud}- of divine things, and take pains to cultivate 
 a habit of speaking concerning them in public in 
 the most instructive and edifying manner, as well 
 as to investigate and state the evidence of Chris- 
 tianity, the sense of Scripture, and particular diffi- 
 culties which may occur, and occasion scruples in 
 men's minds, either of a speculative or practical 
 nature : not to insist upon the great advantage 
 societies may receive by the inspection of sucli 
 offices, and their fraternal admonitions, as particular 
 occasions may require. 
 
 Leechman on the Character of a Minister. -[ 
 
 6. It is proper that such persons should in a 
 solemn manner be set apart to this work, and recom- 
 mended to the divine assistance and blessing, in 
 
 * For the writers who have appeared in defence of public worship, in 
 opposition to Mr. (Jilbert Wakefield's Tract upon the subject, see the 
 refi rcnces under Proposition Ixxvi. p. 309. 
 
 + The duties and obligations of the Cliristian ministry liave been 
 frii|uciitly represented in episcopal and archi-diaconal cliarges, and in 
 the ordination sermons and charges of tlie Protestant dissenters. Dis- 
 tinct treatises on tlie subject are Mr. Mason's Student and Pastor, and 
 Mr. linlltky's Christian .Minister. Amon^ more recent pubhcations 
 may be mentioned Dr. Fordyce's Charse at the Ordination of Mr. 
 Lindsay ; Bishop Barrington's Charge to the Clergy of the Diocese of 
 Sarum ; and Dr. Kippis's Charge to Mr. Howe of^Bridport, Dorset- 
 ehire. 
 
 their entrance upon any place in which they intend 
 to labour, not only by the private Christians of that 
 society, but by neighbouring nunisters, as there 
 may be opportunity, and especially by some more 
 advanced in life and experienced in the work; 
 which is warranted by various passages in the 
 apostolic writings, whereby the preceding heads arc 
 also confirmed. See Rom. x. 13 — 17. 2 Tim. ii. 2. 
 Tit. i. 5—9. 1 Tim. iii. 1—13. Acts xiv. 23 ; xx. 
 28. Matt, xxviii. 19. Col. iv. 17. 
 
 Savage's Intr. Disc. 
 
 7. It will conduce to the advancement of virtue 
 that, on the one hand, great care should be taken to 
 inquire into the character and abilities of those who 
 are chosen to such offices, and to exclude or remove 
 those who behave in a vicious and scandalous man- 
 ner ; and, on the other, when any are chosen to 
 them, and while they behave well in tliem, they 
 should be treated with all due respect, and a decent 
 provision made for them and their families ; partly 
 as an equivalent for their labours, and for their 
 resigning those secular advantages which learned 
 and able men might promise themselves in other 
 callings; and also as an encouragement to them to 
 pursue their sacred work with cheerfulness, being 
 freed from those distracting cares, to which they 
 would otherwise be exposed, and animated by that 
 token of respect and afi'ection in those committed to 
 their care : Phil. iv. 10, 11, 17. nor are ministers to 
 be blamed or despised who accept such mainte- 
 nance ; especially since ordinarily, if left destitute 
 of it, they would be unable to contribute to the re- 
 lief of the necessitous, which they of all men ( cat. 
 par.) ought to be most ready to do. Acts xx. 34, 
 35. 1 Cor. ix. 4—18. Gal. vi. 6. 1 Thess. v. 12, 13. 
 1 Tim. V. 17, 18. Heb. xiii. 7, 17. 
 
 Barclay's A pol. p. .329. Mandev. Free Tliouyhts, 
 p. 276. 
 
 8. As the maintenance of ministers, and the relief 
 of the poor, who belong to every society, and there- 
 fore are to be peculiarly regarded by them, will 
 necessarily require some care and attendance, it is 
 plainly fit that there should be some in Christian 
 assemblies, whose peculiar business this should be: 
 and with regard to these officers, as well as those in 
 a superior station, care should be taken that they 
 may be persons of blameless characters, and that 
 they have such capacities as may fit them for the 
 discharge of their office : respect is likewise to be 
 shown them, proportionable to their usefulness to 
 the societies they belong to, and to the circum- 
 stances of life in which they are. Acts vi. 1, &c. 
 1 Tim. iii. 8—12. 
 
 Watts's Foundat. of a Chris. Church. App.X 
 
 X For a general view of the nature and constitution of Christian 
 churches, with the respective qualifications and duties of their oliicert 
 and members, as drawn immediately from Scripture, in short proposi* 
 tious, see Mr. Daniel Turner's Compendium of Social Keligion. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 477 
 
 9. Hardly any thing can have a happier influence 
 upon the improvement of a virtuous and religious 
 life in all its branches, than a due regard to the 
 mediatorial offices of Christ; and we are encourag- 
 ed, by the example of good men in Scripture, as 
 well as by other considerations, to pray to him for 
 those blessings which we are sure he is, under his 
 mediatorial character, commissioned and empowered 
 to grant. Compare Acts vii. 59, 60. 2 Cor. xii. 8. 
 Phil. ii. 10. John v. 23. Heb. i. 6. Rev. v. 12, 13. 
 and in all our addresses to the Father, we are 
 habitually to regard him as dwelling in Christ, and 
 manifesting himself to his people in gracious dis- 
 pensations through him, John xvi. 23, 24. but to 
 address ourselves to Christ only in prayer, omitting 
 the mention of the Father, is contrary to the precepts 
 and example of Scripture, and indeed to the whole 
 tenor of it ; and is indeed overthrowing the whole 
 mediatorial scheme, while the greatest zeal for it is 
 pretended. 
 
 Emhjn's Tracts, p. 27. Clarke on Trin. Prop. 
 53. Burnet's Doct. Trin. p. 95. 
 
 10. It is also of great importance, in order to our 
 improvement in religion, that we should maintain 
 an habitual sense of the need we have of the influ- 
 ences of the Holy Spirit of God, which are to be 
 sought in earnest prayer, attended with a solicitous 
 concern to cherish those good impressions on the 
 mind, of which we have reason to believe he is the 
 Author. Rom. viii. 11, 13, 14. Eph. iv. 30. Gal. v. 
 16, 18, 25. And though there be indeed no exam- 
 ple or precept concerning the worship of the Holy 
 Spirit in Scripture, under a distinct personal char- 
 acter, yet if the preceding propositions relating to 
 his divinity be allowed, there is evidently a foun- 
 dation for it in the nature of things. Compare 
 Matt, xxviii. 19. 2 Cor. xiii. nit. 
 
 Evans's Chris. Temp. vol. i. p. ,329. 
 
 11. So far as the divine image appears in any 
 creature, we are to express our veneration for it, as 
 a means of promoting virtue in ourselves, as well as 
 an immediate exercise of it ; and we may allowably 
 ask the intercession of other good men for us : but 
 as we do not certainly know that any invisible being 
 whatsoever, excepting God and the great appointed 
 mediator, Christ Jesus, do hear our prayers at all 
 times and in all places, nor can be sure of it with 
 regard to any particular time or place, it is proper 
 to address our prayers only to God in and through 
 Christ, and not to any inferior invisible being, how 
 great and excellent soever. 1 Kings viii. 30. Rev. 
 ii. 23. Col. ii. 18. Judges xiii. 16. Rev. xix. 10. 
 
 Tennison on Idol. p. 222. Lowman on Rev. 
 p. 231. Snul and Samuel at Endor. c. iv. 
 
 12. The worship of images has been recommended 
 by many, as a proper means of raising devotion : 
 but images representing God do naturally tend to 
 
 debase our ideas of him ; and images of Christ 
 may easily lay a foundation for idolatry in weak 
 and ignorant minds. The worship of saints and 
 angels by images is superseded in the preceding 
 step ; — and most of those apologies which the 
 Papists make for their image worship, seem to have 
 been borrowed from some of the more intelligent 
 of the heathen writers, who could not be stupid 
 enough to imagine that the images themselves were 
 divine, though they did suppose the extraordinary 
 presence of some invisible agent in them or near 
 them, and apprehended that the peculiar favours of 
 that invisible agent would be conferred upon those 
 who honoured the image for his sake. 
 
 Mores Theol. p. 420. Tenn. on Idol. p. 269. 
 13. As natural reasons mentioned above recom- 
 mend fasting in some circumstances and on some 
 occasions, so many passages in the Old Testament 
 expressly require it, and that on principles common 
 to all nations. Joel ii. 12, &c. Jon. iii. pass. It 
 is likewise favoured by Matt. vi. 16. where Christ 
 seems to take it for granted that his disciples would 
 practise it ; as also 1 Cor. vii. 5. 
 
 Bennet's Christian Orat. vol. ii. p. 18. 
 
 LECTURE CXCIV. . 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 That form of prayer, commonly called the Lord's 
 Prayer, seems to have been given, in our Lord's 
 sermon on the mount, Matt. vi. as a directory ; 
 whereas (Luke xi. 1.) Christ seems, in compliance 
 with the request of the disciples, to have given it as 
 a form. Some have urged that the second and 
 fourth petition of that prayer could be intended 
 only for temporary use : but it is most evident that 
 such a sense may be put upon those petitions as 
 shall suit all Christians in all ages; for it is always 
 our duty to pray that Christ's kingdom may be ad- 
 vanced in the world ; and to profess our daily 
 dependence on God's providential care. Never- 
 theless, there is no reason to believe that Christ 
 meant to enjoin it so absolutely upon all his disci- 
 ples, that they should be obliged constantly to use 
 this form, or even to dispose their prayers in this 
 method ; and that great zeal, which is to be found 
 in some Christians, either for or against it, is to be 
 lamented as a weakness ; and it will become us to 
 do all that we can, to promote on each side more 
 moderate sentiments concerning it. The omission 
 of the name of Christ in that prayer, compared with 
 John xiv. 13, 14. shows that this prayer is not to be 
 ordinarily used alone, without either introduction 
 or explication. If the conciseness and variety of 
 the expressions be, as some have thought, an ob- 
 
478 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 jertion against the use of it, this objertioii niisht 
 have taki ii place from the beginning- ; nevertheless, 
 it is a jcood argument w liy tliose who use it, should 
 attentively study it, and why it should be often 
 re\ii "ed and explained. Perhaps it can nowhere 
 be viewed to greater advantage than in the pious 
 Archbishop Lcighton's explication of it, or in the 
 Assembly's Catechism, in proportion to the number 
 of words used. 
 
 Hebden on the Lord's Pr. Watts on Prayer. 
 
 Hallet on Scrip, vol. iii. p. 20. West on the 
 
 Lord's Prayer. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is evidently reasonable and important, that 
 •when we pray, it should be with a firm persuasion 
 of the goodness of God, as well as his power, and 
 with a dependence upon the truth of his promises : 
 but as for that firm persuasion of obtaining the par- 
 ticular blessings we ask, which some have called a 
 special faith in prayer, it might indeed be an essen- 
 tial condition of the miraculous effects of prayer in 
 the early ages of Christianity ; but it is very diffi- 
 cult to determine how far it may now be rational 
 and well grounded, when we are asking for bless- 
 ings which are merely of a temporal nature, and 
 which God has not by the tenor of the covenant of 
 grace obliged himself to grant to all his people : at 
 least it cannot be matter of universal duty, and can 
 only take place in correspondence to some extra- 
 ordinary impressions made on the mind, the nature 
 and kind of which are perhaps intelligible only to 
 those who have experienced them. Vid. Prop. 
 140. Schol. 7. and the references there. Vid. Mark 
 xi. 24. James i. C. 1 Tim. ii. 8. 
 
 Calani. Life of Howe. Ogden on Prayer. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is debated. Whether public liturgies ought to 
 be established for the use of Christian assemblies ? 
 Some have pleaded for it as necessary, and urged 
 Christ's concurring in those forms of prayer which 
 were olfered in the Jewish synagogue, as an argu- 
 ment for men's submitting to them. To what was 
 said above, Prop. 76. Sclwl. 3. we may add the 
 following remarks : — 
 
 1. It appears, in fact, by the manner in which 
 the worship of God is discharged in those Christian 
 congregations where liturgies are not used, that it 
 may generally be expected (through the common 
 assistance of the Spirit of God, in consequence of 
 proper care and application on the part of minis- 
 ters) that the church is never likely to be destitute 
 of teachers, who may carry on that part of worship 
 in a decent and edifying manner ; cspecial'y when 
 due care is taken in the education of those that are 
 intended for the service of the sanctuary. 
 
 2. Nevertheless, as it may so happen that some 
 persons may be employed in the ministry who may 
 
 not have a talent and capacity for extemporary 
 prayer, it is not at all improper that some forms 
 should be provided for the use of such, if they 
 choose to have recourse to them. 
 
 3. But to impose any particular form of pra3'ej 
 upon all ministers, and upon all congregations, 
 without regarding their abilities on the one hand, 
 or their sentiments on the other, is certainly putting 
 a great hardship both on ministers and private 
 Christians ; and those who do it had need produce 
 strong evidence that they are the appointed legis- 
 lators in the church of Christ, if they expect un- 
 limited submission to them. 
 
 4. To confine ministers to a form, so as to ex- 
 clude their offering any prayers but those prescribed, 
 is so apparently absurd, that it has not (that I know 
 of) been practised, at least in any Protestant church.. 
 
 .'). As for the Jewish prayers now used in lh& 
 synagogues, there is no reason to believe they are sa 
 old as our Lord's time ; and it is certain that some 
 of them are such as he could not concur in, even 
 though we should grant him to have been present 
 in places where they were used ; and all that can 
 be inferred from hence seems to be this, That the 
 use of a form of prayer is not alone a sufficient 
 reason for Christians to separate from such assem- 
 blies, which will be readily granted ; and it is very 
 hard if no allowance is to be made for a more abun- 
 dant effusion of the Spirit of God under the Gospel, 
 than under the Mosaic law. Rom. viii. 2. ' 
 Bennet, Robinson, and Clarhson on Liturgy 
 Peirce's Vind. c. iv. Prideaux's Con. vol. I. 
 p. 374. Le Clerc on Matt. vi. 7-* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Bishop Bull, and some others, have urged th6 
 probability of liturgies being of apostolic institu- 
 tion, and 1 Tim. ii. 1, 2. is produced very weakly 
 for this purpose, since it may so well be interpreted 
 as a general direction for prayer : and it is certain 
 the quotation from Prosper cannot prove the con- 
 trary. What looks most specious for this purpose, 
 is the agreement of many ancient liturgies in the 
 sursum corda, the exhortation to give thanks to 
 God, with the responses, and the doxologies to 
 Father, Son, and Spirit, together with what he calls 
 the prayer of oblation of the Christian sacrifice in 
 the holy Eucharist, the airora^ic, or renunciation of 
 the flesh, the world, and the devil, in baptism, witli 
 the (Turra^tc, or joining ourselves to Father, Son, or 
 Spirit ; which harmony it is said there could not 
 have been, if there were not some general founda- 
 
 * Tliis subioct lias not unfreriueiitly been disciisscil since Dr. Dod- 
 dridge's I/fctiires were written. Dr. Taylor's Scripture Account of 
 I'r.iyer, and a tract entitled Public Prayer, are in opposition to litnr. 
 tries. In favour of tliem is A Letter to a Dissenting' Minister on tlie 
 Expediency of Forms. Tliis piece was answered by Mr. ISrckell. A 
 publication under tlie title of Disquisitions relating to the Dissenters, 
 is against botli stated forms and extempore prayer. What the author 
 proposes is, that written form." should occasionally be composed, and 
 delivered by the minister as he does his sermon. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 479 
 
 tion in apostolic appointment; but to this it is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That the antiquity of all these liturgies is very 
 dubious : nay, several of them are most evidently 
 spurious ; and it is certain, if they were forged, 
 many of them might come from the same hand. 
 
 2. That the agreement in many of these things is 
 not so entire as is here supposed. 
 
 3. That where there is indeed an agreement, it 
 might be derived from primitive custom, though 
 there were no liturgies. 
 
 4. That the extraordinary degree in which the 
 primitive Christians were assisted by the Spirit, 
 made it less necessary there should have been 
 any. 
 
 6. That several directions given by St. Paul to the 
 Corinthians, 1 Cor. xi. 14. make it probable there 
 ■were none ; and that he did not think it necessary 
 there should be any. 
 
 6. That the silence of the apostles as to this im- 
 portant fact, supposing it were a real fact, is sur- 
 prising. 
 
 7. It is highly improbable that a diversity of 
 liturgies should have been made in the ancient 
 church, if they had anj' composed by the apostles. 
 
 8. That many passages in ancient writings seem 
 to intimate the contrary practice to have prevailed 
 early, particularly the expression of bat) Bwajxiz, 
 and sine monitore ; and Basil, to w'hom a liturgy 
 with a prayer of consecration for the Eucharist has 
 been ascribed, declares that no such form was, or 
 ever ought to be, composed. 
 
 Robins. A^is. to Ben. Clarhs. on Litur. 
 
 LECTURE CXCV. 
 
 DEFINITION XCU. 
 The church of Christ is a .society, consisting 
 of all those who profess to believe in him as a 
 teacher sent from God, and to form their worship 
 and conduct according to what they apprehend to 
 be his institutions. 
 
 scholium 1. 
 The church of Christ here defined, is that which 
 is commonly called the catholic, and consists of 
 many smaller societies, all agreeing in the general 
 profession of subjection to him, though greatly 
 diversified as to the particular forms of worship and 
 discipline. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 The word ecclesia, used to express church, both 
 in the Latin and Greek languages, does in the 
 general signify any assembly of men, and sometimes 
 is applied even to such assemblies as were not in a 
 regalar manner called together, though its etymo- 
 
 logy expresses bei7iff called out from others, as indeed 
 assemblies generally are, either more or less ex- 
 pressly. Acts xix. 32, 39, 41. It generally sig- 
 nifies, in the New Testament, " A number of 
 Christians met together in one place ;" and some- 
 times " The whole body of tl),e faithful." Matt, 
 xvi. 18 ; xviii. 17. Acts viii. 3 ; ix. 31 ; xx. 28. 
 Eph. V. 23, 25, 29, 32. Rom. xvi. IG. 1 Cor. xvi. 19. 
 
 Collins on Free-thinking. Bentleij on ditto. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Divines have often distinguished between the 
 visible znA the invisible church. All those, and only 
 those, belong to the visible church, who submit to 
 the Christian institutions, worship in Christian 
 assemblies, professing their faith in Christ, or are 
 descended from such as do, and are yet in their 
 infancy ; though upon this foundation it must be 
 allowed there are various degrees of visibility in 
 church-membership ; but the invisible church con- 
 sists only of those who are true believers in Christ, 
 according to Def. 82. or, as perhaps some would 
 choose to state it, who have such habits and dispo- 
 sitions as are necessary, in order to their prepara- 
 tion for future happiness, whether they be or be not 
 regularly gathered into the church. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It evidently appears from the preceding definition 
 and scholia, that the supposition of a visible head, 
 with whom all the members are to hold communion, 
 is by no means necessary in order to constitute such 
 an unity as is essential to the church of Christ ; 
 their professed union to Christ is as real a bond of 
 unity as a professed union with and subjection to 
 any living man could be ; and is that upon wliich 
 the apostle makes it evidently to depend. Eph. iv. 
 IG. Col. ii. 19. Gal. iii. 28. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLIX. 
 To take a more particular survey of tlie various 
 kinds o{ public officers, which are, according to the 
 institution of Christ, appointed in his church. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. It has generally been acknowledged, and was 
 more particularly proved, Prop. 148. gr. 5, 6. that 
 Christ has appointed certain officers, whose business 
 it is to instruct his people, and to direct them in 
 their spiritual affairs ; with respect to which office 
 they are frequently called pastors, or shepherds. 
 Acts XX. 28. Eph. iv. 11, 12. 1 Pet. v. 2, 4. 
 
 2. These officers are frequently called Elders and 
 Presl)yters, as the Jews used to call those who pre- 
 sided in their ecclesiastical or civil assemblies ; 
 and from their office of overseeing the people, the 
 name of tTriffKon-oi, or Bishops, was also given them ; 
 and whatever alteration miglit afterwards be made 
 in the sense of that word, and whatever distinction 
 might early be introduced between bishops and 
 presbyters, as signifying two different ranks of 
 
480 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 ininislers, (of w liicli hereafter,) it is certain tliat, in 
 tlie AVm' Tcstamint, tlic words are used promis- 
 CMoiisl)/.* Vid. Pliil. i. 1. 1 Tim. iii. 1, &c. com- 
 pared with Tit. i. ;>— 7. Acts xx. 17, with 28. 1 Pet. 
 V. 1, 2. Bishop Hoadly and Dr. Hammond do both 
 of them aUow this; and it is Dr. Hammond's 
 opinion tliat tlicrc were only presbyters (or bishops) 
 and deacons in each church at first; /. c. one ovn-- 
 seer, called a prfsbytcr, in each, to whom assistants 
 and inferior oflieers were afterwards added ; who 
 in process of time took, the name of deacons, while 
 the presidents were, by way of distinction,- called 
 bishops. But this does not agree with Acts xiv. 23 ; 
 XX. 17. Tit. i. 5. which prove there w'cre several 
 elders in a place ; and this indeed has been gene- 
 rally granted to have been the case at first; but it 
 has been asserted that the apostles, in their Inst 
 visitation, settled one of the presbyters or bishops 
 of a place over the rest : but whether they at that 
 time, or ever at all, established such a distinction of 
 names and offices, as had not before been known, 
 will be afterwards inquired. 
 
 Boyse's Works, vol. i. p. 81. Hoadly on Episc . 
 p. 383. Hammond on Acts xi. 30. 
 
 3. It appears that another kind of officers, called 
 deacons, were used in the Christian church, by the 
 appointment of the apostles : and a parity of rea- 
 son, at least in some degree, will require that the 
 Christian church should have some such officers 
 among tliem still, whether they be or be not called 
 by the same name, which plainly signifies servants 
 of the church. Matt. xxii. 13. John ii. 9. (Greek.) 
 Vid. Prop, cxiviii. gr. 8. Acts vi. 1 — 8. 1 Tim. iii. 
 
 8 — 13. Collins on Free-thinking, p. 93. 
 
 4. There are some circumstances in the primi- 
 tive church which have made it peculiarly proper 
 that there should be some women appointed to take 
 care of the entertainment of strangers, to attend 
 the sick, and assist at the baptizing of women ; 
 these were generally at least widows, (1 Tim. v. 
 
 9 — 11.) and seem to have been called Deaconesses, 
 RoDi. xvi. 1. (Greek). This office is not altogether 
 so needful now as it was then ; and whether the 
 office or name should be retained, is to be referred 
 to the judgment of particular societies, upon a view 
 of their own circumstances. 
 
 Collins on Free-thinh. p. 93. Bingham' s Ant. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 There were in the succeeding ages of the Chris- 
 tian church many new officers introduced into it, 
 whose very names were unknown in the most primi- 
 tive times ; which were, for instance. Patriarchs, 
 Exarchs, Archbishops or Metropolitans, Arch- 
 deacons, Subdeacons, Acolyths, (a kind of vergers 
 to the bishops,) Exorcists, Catechists, Singers, 
 
 * See oil tliis subject Dr. Stevenson's Sermon at llic ordination of 
 Mr. Moses Alway. 
 
 Doorkeepers, the copiata or fossarii, who had the 
 care of funerals, the parabolani, who took care of 
 the sick, the defcnsores and cconomi, a kind of 
 churchwardens, of which the first took care of land 
 and houses ; the latter of money appropriated to 
 cliaritable uses: to which we may also add the 
 cellulani. Concerning most of them, see 
 
 Bower's Hist, of Popes, vol. ii. Bingh. Antiq. 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Of the manner in which the hierarchy was form- 
 ed under Constantine, during the pontificate of 
 Sylvester, agreeably to the ciDiV polity then establish- 
 ed in the empire, and the civil dioceses into which 
 lie divided the four prefectures, see Bower's Hist, of 
 the Popes, vol. i. p. 99 — 110. 
 
 Geddes's Tracts, vol. iv. Essay 2. 
 DEFINITION XCIII. 
 
 Those are said to maintain the divine right of 
 DIOCESAN EPISCOPACY, who assert that Christ has 
 appointed an order of ministers in his church, 
 superior to the pastors of particular congregations, 
 who are to exercise the highest acts of jurisdiction, 
 especially ordination, excommunication, and con- 
 firmation : these they suppose to be, properly speak- 
 ing, the successors of the apostles, in such a sense as 
 no other ministers are ; to whose authority therefore 
 neighbouring churches with their pastors are to 
 submit themselves, in all matters which are not 
 apparently contrary to the will of God. 
 
 Bingh. Orig. 1. ii. c. iii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM, 
 
 Those who hold every pastor to be so a bishop or 
 overseer of his own congregation, as that no other 
 person or body of men have by divine institution a 
 power to exercise any superior or pastoral office in 
 it, may, properly speaking, be called (so far at least) 
 congregational : and it is by a vulgar mistake that 
 any such are called Presbyterians ; for the presby- 
 terian discipline is exercised by synods and assem- 
 blies, subordinate to each other, and all of them 
 subject to the authority of what is commonly called 
 a General Assembly. 
 
 Scottish Confess, and Directory, c. xxxi. 
 
 LECTURE CXCVI. 
 
 PROrOSlTION CL. 
 To propose and consider the principal arguments 
 which are brought in defence oi diocesan episcopacy, 
 both from the Scriptures and the primitive fathers. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 Sect. I. The arguments from Scripture. 
 1. Some argue that the nature of the office which 
 the apostles bore was such, that the edification of 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 481 
 
 the church would require they should have some 
 successors in those ministrations which are not 
 common to Gospel ministers. It is answered, That 
 as their office was such, as to require extraordinary 
 and miraculous endowments for the discharg;e of 
 many parts of it, it is impossible that they can have 
 any successors in those services who are not em- 
 powered for the execution of them, as the apostles 
 themselves were : and it is maintained, that so far 
 as ordination, confirmation, and excommunication 
 may be performed without miraculous gifts, there is 
 nothing in them but what seems to suit the pastoral 
 office in general, unless further arguments can be 
 brought to prove that Christ has limited them to 
 some superior order of ministers. Vid. Prop. 117. 
 Cor. 4. 
 
 Boyse of Episc. p. 270. Barr. W. vol. i. p. 595. 
 
 2. It is pleaded, that Timothy and Titus were 
 bishops of Ephesus and Crete, whose businc^is it 
 was to exercise such extraordinary acts of jurisdic- 
 tion as are now claimed for diocesan bishops, 1 Tim. 
 i. 3 ; iii. pass. ; v. 19—22. 2 Tim. ii.2. Tit. i.5. &c. 
 iii. 10. (not to mention the postscripts of these epis- 
 tles, which are evidently spurious.) — To this it is 
 answered, That Timothy and Titus had not a stated 
 residence in these churclies, but only visited them 
 for a time : 2 Tim. iv. 9—13. Tit. iii. 12. It also 
 appears from other places, in which the journeys of 
 Timotliy and Titus are mentioned, that they were a 
 kind of itinerant officers, called Evanydists, who 
 were assistants to the apostles ; for there is great 
 reason to believe the first epistle to Timothy was 
 written prior to those from Rome in the time of 
 Paul's imprisonment, as some think the second was 
 also. To which we may add, that it seems probable 
 at least that they had very extraordinary gifts to 
 furnish them for their superior offices : 1 Tim. iv. 14. 
 Eph. iv. 11. 2 Tim. iv. 5. And though Timothy 
 was with Paul when he took his leave of the elders 
 of Ephesus, (Acts xx.) the apostle gives not the 
 least hint of any extraordinary power with wljich 
 he was invested, nor says one word to engage their 
 obedience to him ; which is a very strong presump- 
 tion that no such relation didsubsi.st, or was to take 
 place: at least, it is a certain proof that Paul did 
 not think it was necessary to leave a bishop in a 
 place, when making his last visitation to it ; for that 
 he at least thoucjlu that this would be his last visita- 
 tion at Ephesus, is undeniably plain, from Acts xx. 
 2.5, 38. Comp. Rev. ii. 4, b. 
 
 Owen's Scrip. Ord. p. 11. Howe's Episc. p. 15. 
 
 I 3. Some have argued from the mention ot anyeh, 
 I i. e. as they understand it, of diocesan bishops, in 
 the seven churches of Asia, particularly the angel 
 of Ephesus, though there were many ministers em- 
 ployed in it long before the date of that epistle : 
 Acts XX. 17, J 8. But it is certain, that for any 
 2 I 
 
 thing which appears in our Lord's epistles to them, 
 (Rev. ii, and iii.) they might be no more than the 
 pastors of single congregations, with their proper 
 assistants. Some have urged the use of the word 
 aTTOToXot, 2 Cor. viii. 23. (Greek) compared with 
 Phil. ii. 23. (Greek) ; but it so plainly refers to their 
 being sent by some churches upon a particular oc- 
 casion, that it is strange any stress should be laid 
 upon it. Compare 1 Kings xiv. 6. Septuatjint. 
 
 Hoive's Episcopacy, p. 45. 
 
 4. It is urged that some of tlie churclies, which 
 were formed in large cities during the lives of the 
 apostles, and especially that at Jerusalem, consisted 
 of such vast numbers, as could not possibly assemble 
 at one place. Compare Acts xxi. 20. It is answer- 
 ed, 1. That the word nvpiaSig may only s'lgnKy great 
 numbers, and may not be intended to express that 
 there were several times ten thousand in an exact 
 and literal sense. Compare Luke xii. 1. (Greek.) 
 2. That no sufficient proof is brought from Scrip- 
 ture of there being sucli numbers of people in any 
 particular place as this supposes ; for the myriads 
 of believing Jews, spoken of in the preceding text, 
 as well as the numbers mentioned Acts ii. 41 ; iv. 
 4. might very probably be those who were gathered 
 together at those great feasts from distant places, 
 of which few might have their stated residence in 
 that city. Compare Acts viii. 1. 3. If the number 
 were so great as the objection supposes, there might 
 be, for any thing which appears in Scripture, *erc/-«Z 
 bishops in the same city, as there are among those 
 who do not allow of diocesan episcopacy several 
 co-ordinate pastors, overseers, or bishops : and 
 though Eusebius does indeed pretend to give us a 
 catalogue of the bishops of Jerusalem, it is to be 
 remembered how the Cliristians had been dispersed 
 from thence for a considerable time, at and after the 
 Roman war, and removed into other parts, which 
 must necessarily very much increase the uncer- 
 tainty, which Eusebius himself owns there was as to 
 the succession of bishops in most of the ancient sees, 
 Euseb. EccL Ilist, 1. ii. iii. Grot, on Acts 
 xviii. 17. 
 
 Sect. II. Arguments from antirjuity. 
 1. The asserlors of Diocesan Episcopacy plead, 
 1. That Clemens Ronian\is intimates this, when 
 he recommends to the Corinthians the example of 
 the Jewisli church, where the high priest, ordinary 
 priests, and Levites, knew and observed their respec- 
 tive offices. To this it is answered. That the high 
 priest may .signify Christ; else this parallel would 
 rather imply that the Christian church must bo 
 subject lo some one visible head as the Jewisli was, 
 and then presbyters and deacons may answer to 
 priests and Levites. This interpretation is the more 
 probable, as Clement never expressly mentions 
 presbyters and bi,shops as distinct, nor refers the 
 
482 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 (■ontondiiis: Corinlhiaiis to any one ecclesiastical 
 head, as the centre oi" unity, which he would pro- 
 bably have done, if there had been any diocesan 
 bishop anions them ; nay, he seems evidently to 
 speak of presbyters as exercising tlie episcopal 
 ottiee. See the .'59th section of his epistle. 
 
 Howes Episcopacy, p. 107 — 116. 
 
 2. As for Irena^us, I meet with no passage pro- 
 duced from him, to prove that bishops and presbyters 
 were rf/*tinc(. The word presicliiiy presbyter is evi- 
 dently used to signify the highest oflieer in the 
 Roman church, in a noble fragment preserved, 
 Eiiseb. Ecchs. Hist. 1. v. c. xxiv. p. 2 48. He docs 
 indeed mention the succession of bishops from the 
 apostles, which is reconcilable with the supposition 
 of their being parochiul ; nor altogether irreconcil- 
 able with the supposition oi joint pastors in those 
 churches. Iren. 1. iii. c. iii. p. 232. 
 
 Hoive, ibid. p. 132— 13G. 
 
 3. Ignatius is much insisted upon as a most ex- 
 press witness. It is allowed, that in many places 
 he expressly distinguishes between bishops and 
 presbyters, and requires obedience to bishops from 
 the whole church (presbyters not excepted) in very 
 strong terms : but as he often supposes each of the 
 churches to which he wrote to meet in one place, 
 and represents them as breaking one loaf, and sur- 
 rounding one altar, and charges the bishop to hnoic 
 all liis flock by name, not excepting even the ser- 
 vants of it, it is most evident that he must speak of 
 a parochial and not a diocesan bishop. 
 
 Howe, ibid. p. 122. 
 
 4. Polycarp exhorts the Christians at Philippi to 
 be subject to the presbyters and deacons ; he urges 
 the presbyters to impartial judgment, &c. but says 
 not one word of any bishop as being then at Phi- 
 lippi, nor gives any directions about choosing one ; 
 so that it should seem this church, as well as that 
 at Corinth, was governed by joint presbyters, or 
 copastors. 
 
 5. Justin llartyr certainly speaks of the president, 
 w'hom we may allow to have been distinguished from 
 the presbyter, though Justin docs not mention that 
 distinction ; but he represents this president as pre- 
 sent at every administration of the Eucharist, which 
 he also mentions as always making a part of their 
 public worship ; so that the bishop here intended 
 must have only been the pastor of one congregation. 
 
 6. Tertullian speaks of approved elders, as pre- 
 siding in Christian assemblies, and glories over the 
 Marcionites, that they could not produce a catalogue 
 of their bishops in a continued succession from the 
 apostles, as the orthodox Christians could : but it 
 cannot be proved that he speaks of a diocesan, since 
 all that he says might be applied to a parochial, 
 bishop. Howe, ibid. p. 136. 
 
 7. Clemens Alexandrinus says, " That the order 
 
 of bishops, i)riests, and deacons, is according to the 
 rank and disi)ensation of angels:" but as he men- 
 tions only antjels and archanr/cls, without descending 
 into any more subordinations, it is not easy certainly 
 to determine how far he intended to assert the 
 power of the bishop over the presbyter; much less 
 can it be inferred from hence, that the bishops of 
 whom he speaks were any thing more than parochial. 
 
 8. Origen speaks distinctly of bishops and pres- 
 byters, but unites them both, as it seems, under the 
 common name of priests, saying nothing of the 
 power of bishops as extending beyond one congre- 
 gation, and rather insinuates the contrary, when he 
 speaks of oflenders as brought before the whole 
 church to be judged by it. 
 
 !>. Tlie Apostolic Constitutions do indeed very 
 frequently distinguish between bishops and presby- 
 ters, and assert the subjection of the latter to the 
 former, as a matter of divine institution : but not to 
 insist upon the evidence there is, that these consti- 
 tutions were at the earliest a forgery of the fourth 
 century, (vid. Prop. 103. Schol. 5.) there are many 
 passages in them which show that the bishops there 
 spoken of could not stand related to a great number 
 of churches ; for they expressly decree, " That the 
 deacons give nothing to the poor without the 
 bishop's consent," and " that the bishops should see 
 to it, that the same person did not receive charities 
 twice in a week, unless the case were very urgent :" 
 they also refer continually to the bishop's assembling 
 with his people in acts of joint devotion ; and the 
 liturgies contained in these constitutions generally 
 suppose the bishop present, and assign liim some 
 peculiar office in each service, and especially in the 
 celebration of the Lord's Supper. 
 
 10. Cyprian docs indeed speak of the bishop as 
 joining with and presiding over the bench of pres- 
 byters, in giving judgment in eases in which the 
 church was concerned ; but though he himself was 
 a person of such distinguished sense, and though 
 we have so many large epistles, wherein he gives 
 directions about the manner in which the church 
 under his care was to be managed in his absence, as 
 well as relates several occurrences in which he was 
 concerned while he was at Carthage, — yet it is re- 
 markable, that he gives no intimation of his having 
 had the charge of more than one congregation. He 
 speaks of two readers, whom he alternately em- 
 ployed, which were capable of being heard by the 
 whole church ; and he expressly mentions his people 
 as joining with him in acts of communion and 
 discipline, not by representatives, but in their own 
 person. 
 
 11. It is allowed, that in succeeding ages the 
 difference between bishops and presbyters came to 
 be more and more magnified, and various churches 
 came under the care of the same bishop ; neverthe- 
 less, Jerome does expressly speak of bishops and 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 483 
 
 presbyters as of the same order ; and Gregory 
 Nazianzen speaks of the great and affected distinc- 
 tion made between ministers in prerogative of place, 
 and other tyrannical privileges, (as he calls them,) 
 as a lamentable and destructive thing. 
 
 Kinff's Const, of the C/t. part i. Boijse on Episc. 
 
 c. ii. Milton s Prose Works, p. 285. Mem. 
 
 of Emlyn, p. 132.* 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 The distinction between bishops and presbyters 
 does not appear of earlier date than the time of 
 Ignatius, ^ 2. gr. 1 and 2. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 This distinction does not appear to have been of 
 divine institution ; and Dr. Hammond in effect 
 allows this, as w as observed Prop. 149. gr. 2. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 There was little or no conformity between primi- 
 tive episcopacy, even as it was in the second and 
 third centuries, and that diocesan episcopacy which 
 is established in the Church of England, and in 
 Popish countries. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Those reformed churches abroad which have not 
 diocesan, may, notwithstanding, retain the true 
 primitive, episcopacy ; nevertheless, it is to be ob- 
 served that tliey have superintendents, and some of 
 still a superior order, nearly answering to our 
 bishops and archbishops, but with this difference, 
 that it is not pretended their authority is of divine 
 original, nor their existence by any means essential 
 to that of a church ; but they are acknowledged to 
 be a kind of oflicers, set over the church by the civil 
 magistrate ; and indeed the constitution of the 
 Church of England is such, that its bishops are 
 properly the king's officers ; and it is not in the 
 power of any number of them to make another 
 without him. 
 
 Torrffood'/i Append, to fii.i Letter to IVhite.i 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 The main and most important controversy relat- 
 ing to episcopacy, is flmf which concerns the extent 
 of the bishop's cliarge. 
 
 COROLLARY 6. 
 
 To assert in the general that diocesan bishops 
 have such a right to determine all indifferent mat- 
 ters in the church, that private Christians and ordi- 
 nary ministers must in conscience submit to their 
 
 * For a consideration of several of the subjects that ocriir under the 
 hundred and forty. ninth, and hundred aird fifiielh propositions, rerimrsc 
 may be had to Dr. Benson's Dissertation concerning the first settlement 
 of tlie Christian Churches, and concernins; the puhhe worship of tlie 
 Christians, wliilst the spiritual gifts continued. !See liis Paraphrase 
 and Notes on the Epistles, vol. i. p ,S78 sicond edit. 
 
 + That body of Protestant Dissenters who go under the denomination 
 of General Itaptists, have three distinct orders in their churches, aii- 
 jwcrinj to bishops, priests, and deacons. They are separately ordained. 
 To the hij-liest order they give the name of Messengers, and to the 
 •eeond that of Elders. 7 he third order is that of Deacons, in the sen.se 
 of the uord as used in the New Testa. .-lent. Sec Memoir.s of the Life 
 and Writings of Mr. Wm. Whiston, part iii p 466. 
 
 2 I 2 
 
 dictates, how contrary soever they may be to their 
 own relish and sentiments, and that none may 
 preach who are not authorized by them, is building 
 a vast superstructure upon a very weak and preca- 
 rious foundation. 
 
 COROLLARY 7. 
 
 The dissenting churches in this realm are to be 
 justified in the liberty which they take of forming 
 themselves into separate congregations, indepen- 
 dently on the authority and jurisdiction of that dio- 
 cese within whose province they live ; especially 
 when submitting to them must in effect be attended 
 with this important additional circumstance, of 
 owning them to be instituted by Christ, as well as 
 with a conformity to certain rites and ceremonies, 
 and^ forms of discipline, which in themselves con- 
 sidered, separately from any supposed authority 
 appointing them, appear less expedient, though 
 they should not be urged as absolutely unlawful. 
 
 Howe's Epi.<ieopacy, p. 148. 
 
 TJ5CTURE CXCVII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 There seems reason for saying, (as in the last 
 corollary,) that the established Church of England 
 demands tliattlie diocesan bishops should be owned 
 in effect as officers instituted by Christ ; for though 
 this be not asserted in the articles of the Church of 
 England, yet in the book of ordination (to which 
 assent must be declared, as well as to the common 
 prayer) it is expressly said, " That it is evident to 
 all men diligently reading the Holy Scriptures, &c. 
 that from the apostles' time there has been this order 
 in Christ's church, bishops, priests, and deacons, 
 as several officers ;" and it is sulTiciently plain from 
 the whole system of ecclesiastical government, that 
 bishoj)s must here signify diocesan bishops, and 
 not merely pastors of a particular congregation. 
 Calnniy's Abridg. of Baxter's Life, vol. i. p. 222, 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 2. 
 
 It is easy to apprehend how episcopacy, as it was 
 in the primitive church, with those alterations w hich 
 it afterwards received, might be gradually intro- 
 duced. The apostles seem to have taught chiefly 
 in large cities ; they settled ministers there, who 
 preaching in country villages or smaller towns, in- 
 creased the number of converts ; it would have been 
 most reasonable that those new converts, which lay 
 at a considerable distance from the large towns, 
 should, when they grew numerous, have formed 
 themselves into distinct churches, under the care of 
 their proper pastors or bishops, independently on 
 any of their neighbours ; but the reverence which 
 
48t 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 would naturally be |>aiil lo men who had conversed 
 with the apostles, and perhaps some desire of inllu- 
 ence and dominion, from which the hearts of very 
 good men mi_nht not be entirely free, and w hich early 
 bejjan to work, (3 John 9. 2 Thess. ii. 7.) might 
 easily lay a foundation for such a subordination in 
 the ministers of new-erected churches to those w hieh 
 weie more ancient ; and much more easily might 
 the superiority of a pastor to his assistant presbyters 
 increase, till it at length came to that great differ- 
 euce, which we ow n was carlj' made, and probably 
 soon carried to an excess ; and if there was that de- 
 generacy in the church, and defection from the 
 purity and vigour of religion, which the learned 
 Vitringa supposes to have happened between the 
 time of Nero and Trajan, it would be less surprising 
 that those evil principles whicli occasioned episco- 
 pal, and at length the papal, usurpation, should be- 
 fore that time exert some considera])le influence. 
 
 Vitriii. Ohs. lib. iv. c. vii. viii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It might be very expedient, upon the principles 
 of Christian prudence, that, where it can be accom- 
 plished, every pastor of a large congregation should 
 still have assistant ministers; and some presidents 
 among the pastors of different congregations, when 
 they are meeting about any public business, is what 
 common sense dictates in such circumstances ; and 
 if instead of a chairman chosen for that particular 
 time and occasion, some person of experience, of 
 approved fidelity and ability, should be appointed 
 to exercise some stated oversight over a few of the 
 neighbouring congregations, it miglit perhaps be 
 attended with such consequences as would render 
 such a sort of discipline not only tolerable, but 
 eligible. Something of this kind was projected in 
 Archbishop Uslier's plan for the reduction of episco- 
 pacy, by which he would have moderated it in 
 such a manner as to have brought it very near the 
 Presbyterian government of the Scottish church ; 
 the weekly parocliial vestry answering to their 
 church-session ; the monthly synod, to be held by 
 the C/iorepiscopi, answering to their presbyteries ; 
 the diocesan synod to their provincial, and the 
 national to their general, assembly. The meeting 
 of the dean and chapter, practised in the Church of 
 England, is but a faint shadow of the second, — the 
 ecclesiastical court, of the third, — and the convoca- 
 tion, of the fourth. 
 
 Hist, of Aonconf. p. 339. Hone's Episc. p. IGO.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It seems there «as not a perfect uniformity 
 among all the primitive churches in this respect ; 
 the power of the bishops seems to have prevailed 
 
 Two further writers on tlio general subject of episcopacy, arc 
 Clarlison and Dr. Maurice. The latter writes in support of^diocesan 
 cpiicop.icy. 
 
 early in Rome ; that of the i)rcsl)ytery at Alex- 
 andria ; and at Cartliage, such a discipline as 
 comes nearest to that which is now called Congre- 
 gational. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It seems to be solidly argued from 1 Tim. v. 17. 
 that there were in the primitive church some elders 
 who did not use to preach. Nothing very express 
 is said concerning them ; only it seems to be inti- 
 mated in James v. 14. that they prayed with the sick. 
 It may be very expedient, even on the principles of 
 human prudence, to appoint some of the more grave 
 and honourable members of the society to join with 
 the pastor in the oversight of it, who may consti- 
 tute a kind of council with him, to deliberate on 
 affairs in which the society is concerned, and pre- 
 pare them for being brought before the church for 
 its decision, to pray with the sick, to reconcile 
 differences, &c. ; but there does not seem any suffi- 
 cient warrant for making them a kind o{ judicatory , 
 to whose decisions the rest of the society is to sub- 
 mit ; and those rules relating to presbyteries, 
 classes, provincials, and general assemblies, which 
 are determined by the constitution of the Church 
 of Scotland, most evidently appear to be at best 
 merely matters of human discretion, and to have 
 no express foundation in the word of God ; nor can 
 wc trace the existence of such ruling elders higher 
 than Constantine's time. 
 
 Maurice Social Rel. p. 143. Whit, on I Tim. 
 v. 17. Blond de Jure Plcb. Thorndon on 
 Rclig. Assemb. p. 90. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 It is a very precarious and uncomfortable foun- 
 dation for Christian hope, which is laid in the doc- 
 trine of an uninterrupted succession of bishops, and 
 which makes the validity of the administration of 
 Christian ministers depend upon such a succession, 
 since there is so great a darkness upon many 
 periods of ecclesiastical history, insomuch that it is 
 not agreed who were the seven first bishops of the 
 Church of Rome, though that church was so cele- 
 brated ; and Eusebius himself, from whom the 
 greatest patrons of this doctrine have made tluir 
 catalogues, expressly owns that it is no easy matter 
 to tell who succeeded the apostles in the govern- 
 ment of the cliurches, excepting such as may be 
 collected from St. Paul's own words. See Euseh. 
 quoted Prop. 1.50. § 1. No. iv. Contested elections 
 in almost all considerable cities make it very dubi- 
 ous which were the true bishops ; and decrees of 
 councils, rendering all those ordinations null, where 
 any simoniacal contract was the foundation of them, 
 makes it impossible to prove, at least on the prin- 
 ciples of the Romish Church, that there is now 
 upon earth any one person who is a legal successor 
 of the apostles; and renders hereditary rigiit as 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 485 
 
 precarious in ecclesiastical, as it certainly is in 
 civil, affairs. 
 
 Calamy's Life of Baxt. vol. i. p. 122. Chand. 
 ag. Popery, p. 34. Howe's Episc. p. 174. 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 Mr. Jones lias undertaken to prove at larje, that 
 the ordination of our English bishops cannot be 
 traced up to tlie Churcli of Rome as its original ; 
 that in the year 668, the successors of Austin the 
 Monk, (who came over A. D. 596) being almost en- 
 tirely extinct, by far the greater part of the bishops 
 were of Scottish ordination, by Aidan and Finan, 
 who came out of the Culdee monastery of Colum- 
 banus, and were no more than presbyters ; though, 
 when the princes of the northern nations were 
 converted by them, they made them bishops, (i. e. 
 gave them authorit)- over the clergy,) and took 
 other bishops from amongst their converts. So that 
 denying the validity of Presbyterian Ordination, 
 shakes the foundation of the Episcopal Church of 
 England. 
 
 Jones on the Heart, § 9.* Bede's Eccl. Hist. 
 p. 266. 
 
 LECTURE CXCVIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLl. 
 It is the duty of Christians to observe one day in 
 seven, and the Jirst of the week, as a day of religious 
 rest, and public worship. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 Prop. 76. ffr. 6. 1. Natural religion requires 
 that tliere should be certain seasons of solemn pub- 
 lic worship, universally agreed upon among the 
 members of the same society ; but it does not deter- 
 mine how often they should occur, nor what pro- 
 portion of our time should be employed in them. 
 
 2. Were there no intimation from the word of 
 God upon this head, it would, nevertheless, be de- 
 cent to pay some regard to the laws and usages of 
 our country, so far at least as to abstain from such 
 public labours as they forbid, and to assemble at 
 some place of public worship ; and (cat. par.) at 
 times so recommended, rather than at other times ; 
 which will affoid one evident reason for the observa- 
 tion of the first day of the week among us. 
 
 Wright on the Sabbath, p. 165. 
 
 3. God appointed for the Jews the observation of 
 a weekly Sabbath, (Exod. xvi. 23 ; xx. 8 — 11.) and 
 the rest there appointed, is said to be in commemo- 
 ration of God's having rested the seventh day from 
 his work of creation. 
 
 * Sec An Acroiint of the Chiirclies in Great Britain, in answer to 
 Jones, t)y the Bisliop of St. Asa|)h. Fhrmer Editor. 
 
 3. 4. This may be considered by us as an inti- 
 mation of the proportion of time to be given by us 
 to a religious rest ; and so much the rather, as the 
 observation of one day in seven seems to have been 
 appointed to Adam in innocence, (Gen. ii. 3.) 
 which is unnatural to understand by way of pro- 
 Icpsis. Comp. Heb. iv. 3, 4. 
 
 Wottons Misc. vol. i. p. 291. 
 
 Nor is it improbable that this might lay a foun- 
 dation for dividing time into weeks, as so many of 
 the ancient nations did. Compare Gen. viii. 10, 
 12 ; xxix. 27 ; 1. 10. See the references to Grotius 
 and Selden, under Prop. 109. gr. 2. 
 
 Strauch. Chronol. lib. ii. c. ii. § 13, Alli.v on 
 Scrip, vol. i. p, 25. Watts on Holy Times, 
 p. 5. Kennicotf s Dissert, p. 157. 
 
 5. The peculiar place which this command had 
 in the Mosaic law, as being a part of the ten com- 
 mandments delivered by God's own voice from 
 Mount Sinai, and written as with his own hand on 
 tables of stone, among moral precepts of the highest 
 importance, may further recommend it to some dis- 
 tinguishing regard. 
 
 1, 2, 4, 5. 6. It seems expedient that we in this 
 country, and other Christians, should observe one 
 day in seven to the religious purposes above men- 
 tioned ; and so much the rather, as our engagements 
 to the service of God are so great, and we are 
 excused from those solemnities which the Jews 
 observed at the Feast of the Passover, Pentecost, 
 and Tabernacles, besides other sacred times. 
 
 7. The apostles, who bore such eminent offices in 
 tlie church, and were the appointed interpreters of 
 the will of Christ, though they did observe the 
 Jewish Sabbath, resting, that they might not give 
 offence, as well as for the opportunity of meeting 
 and preaching to the Jews attending in their syna- 
 gogues, (Acts xiii. 14, 15, 42, 44 ; xvi. 13 ; xviii. 4.) 
 did also observe the frst day as a day of religious 
 worship, ^^hich (waving John xx. 19, 26.) ai)pears 
 from Acts xx. 7. 1 Cor. xvi. 2. Ilencc this was 
 called the Lord's Day, (Rev. i. 10.) as it might very 
 properly be, since on tiiis day Ciirist rose from the 
 dead, and the Spirit probably descended on the 
 apostles. Dr. Whitby also contends for that argu- 
 ment from Heb. iv. 3. (vid. Whitby in Loc.) but it 
 seems not convincing. 
 
 8. The most ancient writers in llie Ciiristian 
 church agree in assuring us, that the observation of 
 the first day prevailed early and constantly in it. 
 Ignatius calls this the Queen of Days. Melilo wrote 
 a book concerning it. Justin Martyr and Tertullian, 
 in their Apologies, speak very expressly of stated 
 Christian assemblies held on this day ; not to men- 
 tion Clemens Alexandrinus, and many more; and 
 Pliny likewise speaks of it as the sacred day of the 
 Christians, a very few years after the death of St. 
 
486 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 John. Now wc can hardly imagine Uiat such an 
 observation should so early and so universally have 
 prevailed (for we find not that it was ever disputed) 
 had not the apostles directed to it. 
 
 Wriy/it OH the Sab. p. 145. Watts, ibid. p. 72. 
 
 0. There is no cominand in the New Teslamcnt 
 whereby Christians are oblined to observe the 
 seventh day ; but, on the contrary, the apostle 
 plainly intimates that it is abolished. Col. ii. 16. 
 
 7, 8, 9. 10. There is reason to believe that the 
 weekly sabbath now to be observed by Christians, 
 is not the seventh day, but the Jirst. Compare (/r. 2. 
 6, 10. 11. Valft propositio. 
 
 Morcr on the Sab. p. 44. Barcl. Apol. Prop. 
 xi. § 4. Burn, on the Art. p. 103. Wright 
 on the Sab. p. 24. Hallct on Scrip, v. iii. p. 
 166.* 
 
 LECTURE CXCIX. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Against the fourth step of the preceding demon- 
 stration it is pleaded. That we do not find that the 
 Sabbath was observed by the patriarchs ; and some 
 have thought that when it is mentioned, (Exod. xvi. 
 23.) it is intimated that it was before unknown by 
 the Israelitish nation, ibid. ver. 25—27. It is 
 answered, 1. That the texts quoted above will not 
 prove that the Israelites knew nothing of tlie Sab- 
 bath ; but, on the contrary, they rather seem to 
 refer to it as a thing known. 2. That if the Israelites 
 in Egypt had neglected the Sabbath, as it is pro- 
 bable (through the oppression of their enemies) 
 they were forced to do, yet the patriarchs might 
 have observed it, though that circumstance in their 
 lives be not mentioned ; and the Israelites might 
 remember it, and esteem it a circumstance pecu- 
 liarly grievous in their oppression, that they were 
 forced to work on a sacred day : — a consideration 
 which would tend to perpetuate its remembrance, 
 if it were ever known. 3. The observation of the 
 Sabbath is said by some to have been one of the seven 
 precepts of Noah, though the authority of tliose from 
 wliom the account of these seven precepts is de- 
 rived, must be acknowledged so dubious, that no 
 great stress can be laid upon them, especially as 
 some do not reckon the Sabbath among those pre- 
 cepts. Seld. de Jure, lib. i. c. x. p. 116. 
 
 * Publications of a more recent nature on the subject, are Dr. 
 Chandler's Two Discourses on (he Sabbath, Mr. Aniner's Dissertation on 
 the Weekly Festival of the Christian Church, Mr. Orton's Six Dis- 
 courses on tiie Utiiiiious Observation of the Lord's Day, and Dr. Ken- 
 nicott's Sermno and Dial();;ue on Ilie Sabbatli. See also Dr. Jelinilif^s's 
 Jewisli Aiitiijuitics, vol. ii. book iii. ch Tlicre are soine few Chris- 
 tiurrs, cliielly of the Ami |iX'dol>a|itisl persuasion, who contend for the 
 obligation of observing? the seventh clay. A tract, in support of this 
 doctrine, was published by Mr. Corutbwaite, in 1740. 
 
 4. The Sabbath might be observed as a day of 
 some extraordinary devotion, thougli not as a day 
 of such strict rest as was afterwards enjoined to 
 the Jews. — 5. Supposing the silence of Moses, in 
 the very short account he gives us of the ancient 
 patriarchs, to be ever so entire upon tliis head, no 
 certain argument can be drawn Trom tiicnce ; for 
 upon this principle we might argue. That the pa- 
 triarchs had no stated time for the worship of God, 
 \\ hich is very incredible ; and also that the Jews 
 did not observe the Sabbath from Moses to David, 
 since, in the history of all that time, there is no 
 mention of that day ; as in the fifteen hundred 
 years between the birth of Seth and the Deluge, 
 no mention is made of sacrifices ; and yet we have 
 reason to believe tltey were practised in that period. 
 — 6. If it should be granted. That the observation 
 of the Sabbath was disused among the antediluvian 
 patriarclis, it cannot be argued from thence that it 
 was not instituted at the Creation. The heads of 
 the Abrahamic family were so remarkable for their 
 devotion, that the strict observation of the Sabbath 
 in their days might be the less necessary. 
 
 Patriar. Sab. Heijl. Hist, of Sab.f 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Against the argument drawn from the fourth 
 commandment, </r. 5. some have argued. That the 
 pronouncing those words from mount Sinai, with 
 an audible voice, was no proof of their extraordi- 
 nary and universal obligation, since God seems to 
 have intended to have spoken the whole law in that 
 manner, had not the terror of the people prevented 
 (Exod. XX. 18, &c. Deut. v. 23—28); but it is 
 answered, 1. That God's beginning with tliose pre- 
 cepts was some intimation of their importance, 
 especially as he well knew the fears of the people 
 would prevent his going on to utter more in this 
 audible manner ; and indeed Deut. xi. 22. inti- 
 mates a pause immediately after the uttering those 
 words, otherwise there would have been no decent 
 room for the people to have spoken as they did. 2. 
 Ilis engraving those ten commandments on tables 
 of stone in a miraculous manner, and ordering 
 them to be laid up in the ark, is a plain intimation 
 of their peculiar weight, and a singular distinction 
 worthy our regard. 3. The connexion in which 
 this precept stands with others, which all allow to 
 he of the highest moment and universal obligation, 
 is to be considered as an argument that it is not 
 merely ceremonial. Hallet on Scrip, vol. i. p. 152. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Nevertheless, wc allow that the observation of 
 the Sabbath is not to be urged as of universal obli- 
 gation, merely because it is to be found in the 
 Jewish decalogue, and that its place there only 
 
 + See Fleming on the Fourtli Commandment ;— and the same au- 
 thor's Plain Account of tlic Lord's Day. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 487 
 
 obliged the Jews, since, in the preface to those ten 
 commandments, their deliverance from Egypt is 
 urged as a reason for observing them ; and the fifth 
 commandment is enforced by promises peculiar to 
 the Jews ; not to insist on the addition, (Deut. v. 
 15.) w hich is probably to be considered as the w ords 
 of Moses, not of God, and a comment on the fourth 
 commandment, rather than a part of it. 
 
 Hallet, ib. p. 161. Baxt. W. vol. iii. p. 778, Sec. 
 
 Mr. Joseph Mede conjectures, that the day of 
 the Jewish Sabbath was changed in the wilderness ; 
 which he endeavours to prove, by showing that 
 they travelled on the seventh day before the first of 
 those Sabbaths which we find they observed, (com- 
 pare Exod. xvi. 1, 22 — 26.) and some have taken 
 occasion from hence to assert. That the Patriarchal 
 Sabbath was different from the Jewish, supposing 
 Monday to be the day on which God began the 
 creation ; which, if it were, the Patriarchal Sab- 
 bath will be the same with what is now the Chris- 
 tian. But to this argument it is answered, 1. That 
 the sixth day, spoken of in the fore-cited text, is 
 not the sixth from the fifteenth of the month ; but 
 from the day on which the mannn began to fall, 
 which might be the first in the treck, or in general 
 that it might signify the sixth of the week, when- 
 ever the manna began to fall ; and, 2. That allow- 
 ing it were (as Mcde supposes) the sixth from their 
 journey on the fifteenth, it will not prove a change 
 in the Sabbath ; but only that before the giving the 
 law on mount Sinai, a greater liberty of travelling, 
 on necessary occasions, was allowed on the Sab- 
 bath ; not here to insist on the possibility there is 
 that the journey they took on the fifteenth day of 
 the month might be only the beginning of their 
 march from Elim to Sinai ; and perhaps no more 
 than would, after the giving of the law, have 
 been allowed ; not to urge that, upon the signal 
 given by the cloud, they might have marched on 
 any future Sabbath ; as by special command sacri- 
 fice was oflered in places not generally allowed by 
 the law. 
 
 Mede on Ezeh. p. 55. Patr. Sub. p. 83. Wott. 
 Misc. vol. i. p. 211. L' Enfant on N. Test. p. 
 152. 
 
 SCHOLIIM 4. 
 
 That tlie Sabbath is an institution peculiar to tlic 
 Jews, some have argued from Deut. v. 15. Exod. 
 xxxi. 13—17. Ezek. xx. 20. Neh. ix. 13, 14. Dr. 
 Wright has endeavoured to prove, from Luke xxiii. 
 ■ult. That it was also intended to oblige Chris- 
 tians ; but he seems to forget that the persons 
 spoken of there were then Jews. 
 
 Wright on the Sab. p. 20. 
 SCHOLII M 5. 
 
 The rigour of the Jewish Sabbath is by no means 
 to be brought into the Christian constitution, since 
 
 there is such a silence in the New Testament upon 
 that head. Watts's Worhs, vol. ii. p. 401.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 Some have insisted on an observation both of the 
 seventh and the first day, as imagining that the 
 fourth commandment, in its most literal sense, de- 
 signing the particular time, as well as the propor- 
 tion, is obligatory upon all Christians ; but it has 
 been answered. That in arguing thus, they arc but 
 little consistent with themselves, since that com- 
 mandment requires six days of labour, as well as one 
 of rest. Compare Schol. 3. and Dem. gr. 9. 
 
 Baxt. Worhs, vol. iii. p. 803. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 It signifies little at what hour the Sabbath is 
 begun, if one day be allotted to it. It is plain from 
 Jerome, that some ancient Christians (as some 
 foreign Protestants now do) returned to their secu- 
 lar employments and diversions on the evening of 
 the Lord's Dag ; but then they began their Sabbath 
 on the Saturday evening ; and we are the less to 
 wonder if the primitive Christians took some liberty 
 this way, since they had public worship three days 
 in the week besides, viz. Tuesday, Thursday, and 
 Saturday. Wright on the Sab. p. 10. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 As it is impossible certainly to determine which 
 is the seventh day from the creation, and as (in con- 
 seciuence of the spherical form of the earth, and the 
 absurdity of the scheme which supposes it one great 
 plain,) the change of place will necessarily occa- 
 sion some alteration in the time of the beginning 
 and ending of any day in question, it being always 
 at the same time, somewhere or other, sun-rising 
 and sun-setting, noon and midnight, — it seems very 
 unreasonable to lay such a stress upon the par- 
 ticular day, as some do, or to require any stronger 
 argument than those assigned above, gr. 7, 8, 9. for 
 the change of it from the seventh to the first. It 
 seems abundantly sufficient, that there be days 
 of labour, and one of religious rest, which there 
 will be upon the Christian as well as the Jewish 
 scheme. 
 
 Wallis on Sab. p. 79. Fabrit Bill. Grac. 
 SCHOLIUM 9. 
 
 One reason why the abolition of the seventh and 
 observation of the first <lay is no more plainly de- 
 clared in the New Testament, might be out of regard 
 to the Jewish Christians, who could not, without 
 great difliculty and inconvenience, have come imme- 
 diately into a total change, or strietl}- have observed 
 
 * Mr. Evanson lias contended, tliat the practice of resting from laliour 
 one day in seven is a civil institution, wholly unanthorized by Chris, 
 tiaiiity, and highly injurious to .lociety, by annihilating the seventh 
 part of all human industry. He has been answered by Ur. Priestley. 
 The controversy was befcun and carried on in the Theological Repo- 
 sitory ; but the whole, with additions, may now he seen in the Argu. 
 mcnts against and for the Sabbatical Oljservance of Sunday, by a 
 Cessation of bodily Labour, published by Mr. livansou ; and in the 
 Appendix to the (irst part of Dr. Priestley's Letters to a Young Man. 
 
468 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 hotli ; and Ihis may answ er the argument from Matt. 
 XX iv. 20. 
 
 Watts's Wur/is, vol. ii. p. 414. Hum. in Loc. 
 
 LECTURE CC. 
 
 DEFINITION XCIV. 
 Tliosc rites of the Christian institution, which 
 were intended to be solemn tokens of our accepting 
 the Gospel covenant, peculiar to those who did so 
 accept it, and to be considered by them as tokens 
 of the divine acceptance, on that supposition may 
 properly be called seals of the covenant. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLII. 
 The law of Christ requires that all who believe 
 the Gospel should be baptized, i. e. should be sepa- 
 rated from unbelievers, and joined to the visible 
 Christian church, by being; solemnly washed u it/i 
 icater ; which washing is, on the one hand, to sig- 
 nify their faith in Christ and resolution of holy 
 obedience ; and, on the other, to confirm tlieir faith 
 in the Gospel promises of pardon, sanctification, and 
 eternal life. 
 
 The proposition is to be understood only as speak- 
 ing of persons as ytivnhaptized ; and it will after- 
 wards be inquired. Whether it extends to those to 
 whom this rite, in its main parts at least, has been 
 already administered, whether in infancy, or upon 
 a false pretence of faith at riper years ? 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Our Lord expressly appointed that believers 
 .should, in a solemn manner, be washed with water 
 (Matt, xxviii. 19. Mark xvi. Ifi.) ; to which there 
 may also be some allusion in John iii. 5. This is 
 further confirmed by Acts ii. 41 ; viii. 12, 37 ; 
 xxii. 16. 
 
 2. That this is to express faith in Christ in those 
 who arc baptized, and solemnly to declare their reso- 
 lution of openly professing his religion, and cultivat- 
 ing real and universal holiness, (their obligation to 
 which is hereby confirmed,) appears from Rom. vi. 
 3, 4. 1 Pet. iii. 21. Eph. v. 2G. ; and Tit. iii. 5. has 
 generally been added to this catalogue, as referring 
 to. baptism ; — but of that, more hereafter. 
 
 3. Tiiat God did hereby give to believers a token 
 of the forgiveness of their sins, according to the 
 terms of the Gospel covenant, does also appear from 
 Acts ii. 38; xxii. 16. Tit. iii. 4—7. 
 
 1, 2, 3. 4. It appears that Christ instituted such 
 an ordinance as baptism, for the purposes mention- 
 ed in the proposition, to those who should believe 
 his Gospel. 
 
 5. There is no reason to apprehend that this was 
 peculiar to the apostolic age, since the reasons on 
 
 which it is founded are conmion to all ages ; and 
 our Lord seems to intimate its perpetual continuance 
 in the church. Matt, xxviii. 20. 
 4, 6. 6. Valet propositio. 
 
 JJaxt. Inf. Church Memh. p. 341. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 It is evidently a prostitution of the ordinance of 
 baptism, to administer it to any adult person who 
 does not make a credible profession of his faith in 
 Christ and subjection to the Gospel. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It is the duty of those by whom baptism is to be 
 administered, to make diligent inquiry into the 
 character of those whom they admit to it ; — whether 
 they have a competent knowledge of the Gospel, 
 and give reason to believe they will behave in a 
 manner becoming members of the Christian church. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 It is fit that baptism should be administered only 
 by tlie teachers and ministers of the church, where 
 their assistance can be had ; not only because it ap- 
 pears that these were the persons by whom it was 
 administered in the New Testament, but because 
 (cat. par.) they must be most capable of judging 
 who are the fit subjects of it. Vid. Cor. 2. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 There is a sense in which baptism may be called 
 a seal of the covenant of grace ; for though the 
 benefits of the covenant are secured to every believer 
 by the death of Christ, which was the great founda- 
 tion of it, — yet baptism plainly appears by the pro- 
 position to answer to Definition 94. which is the 
 sense in which circumcision is called the seal of 
 righteousness of faith, by the apostle, Rom. iv. 11. 
 and God's covenant in the flesh. Gen. xvii. 13. 
 
 Baxt. and Bedford's Lett. p. 347. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 Baptism is not to be repeated, since it is a right of 
 initiation into Christ's church ; and though it will 
 afterwards appear that vicious members are to be 
 cast out,— yet there is no hint in Scripture, that 
 when re-admitted they are to be baptized again. 
 Compare 2 Cor. ii. 6 — 8. Nevertheless, consistently 
 with this, those persons might be baptized in the 
 name of Jesus, as the Messiah already come, who 
 had before been baptized by John and his disciples 
 into general expectation of a Messiah shortly to he 
 revealed. Comp. xix. 5. 
 
 Wall on Inf. Bapt. part ii. e. v. Bens. Prop. 
 Christ, vol. ii. p. 142. Foot on Baptism. 
 
 COROLLARY 6. 
 
 Though it be allowed not essential to baptism, 
 that the names of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost 
 should be expressly pronounced, since sometimes 
 mention is only made of baptizing into the name 
 of Christ, as above,— yet considering how express 
 Matt, xxviii. 19. is, it seems highly expedient these 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 489 
 
 names should generally be used ; and the forecited 
 text (Acts xix. 2, 3.) seems plainly to prove that the 
 name of the Spirit was generally, at least expressly, 
 mentioned in Christian baptism ; and it seems 
 essential to the ordinance, that every adult person 
 receiving it should be instructed in the distinct 
 characters of each of these sacred persons in the 
 work of our redemption, and should solemnly profess 
 a correspondent regard to each. 
 
 Tillot. Works, vol. i. p. 513. 
 
 COROLLARY 7. 
 
 The7ia»wjH(7 of the baptized person is by no means 
 any part of this institution ; and when it is used, is 
 to be considered as an address to the person, calling 
 him by his name, rather than as the manner of giv- 
 ing a name to him ; though it is very probable, the 
 custom of naming a child at baptism might arise 
 from the practice of the Jews at their circumcision. 
 Luke i. 59—63 ; ii. 21. 
 
 LECTURE CCI. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 The Quakers assert. That water baptism was never 
 intended to continue in the church of Christ, any 
 longer than while Jewish prejudices made such an 
 external ceremony necessary ; which they argue 
 from that passage, in which one baptism is spokep. 
 of as necessary to Christians, (Eph. iv. 5.) which, 
 say they, must be a baptism of the Spirit. But from 
 comparing the text mentioned above, it will plainly 
 appear that w ater baptism was instituted by Christ 
 in more general terms than will agree with this ex- 
 plication : that it was administered to all the Gen- 
 tile converts, and not cojifined to the Jews, appears 
 from Matt, xxviii. 19, 20. compare Acts x. 47. that 
 the baptism of the Spirit did not supersede water 
 baptism, appears to have been the judgment of Peter, 
 and those that were with him ; so that the one bap- 
 tism spoken of scem.^ to be that of water, the com- 
 munication of the Holy Spirit being only called 
 baptism in a figurative sense. As for any objection 
 which could be drawn from 1 Cor. i. 17. it is siifli- 
 ciently answered by the preceding verses, and all the 
 many texts in wiiicli (in epistles written long after 
 this) the apostle speaks of all Christians as bap- 
 tized ; and argues from the obligation of baptism, 
 in such a manner as we can never imagine he would 
 have done, had he apprehended it was the will of 
 God it should be discontinued in the church. 
 Compare Rom. vi. 3, &c. Col. ii. 12. Gal. iii. 27. 
 Gale's Sertn. vol. ii. Lett. hetw. Bp. Clayton 
 and Penn on Baptism. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Mr. Emlyn, and several of the Socinians, have 
 
 maintained, That baptism was and is only to be 
 used by those who are converted to Christianity 
 from a different profession, the pollutions of which 
 are considered as washed away by it ; and they 
 assert. That though the children of such converts 
 were to be baptized with their parents, all that de- 
 scended from them after they were initiated into 
 the Christian church were to be considered as bap- 
 tized in them; and the practice oi proseli/te baptism 
 among the Jews is urged, as what must direct the 
 apostles to such an interpretation of the words of 
 Christ. Matt, xxviii. 19. It is answered, 
 
 1. That the antiquity of this practice of proselyte 
 baptism among the Jews is a matter of considerable 
 debate; yet, upon the whole, there is so much 
 probability on the side of the fact, from the tenor 
 and genius of the Mosaic law, as well as from some 
 incontestable passages in very early Jewish writers, 
 that this answer is hardly to be supported. 
 
 2. That supposing it to be older than our 
 Saviour's time, the apostles miglit not know all the 
 rules relating to it, any more than common me- 
 chanics amongst us know the laws of the natural- 
 ization of foreigners, especially considering the 
 afflicted state of the Jews at that time, which was 
 such as would not be likely to invite strangers to 
 incorporate with them ; so that perliaps instances 
 of this seldom occurred ; and the many washinys 
 among the Jews might make this rite, as applied to 
 proselytes, less taken notice of, especially as it 
 might seem so very inconsiderable, when compared 
 with the circumcision of males, which also neces- 
 sarily attended their proselytism. What the rabbles 
 say of the extraordinary solemnity with which tliis 
 rite w as to be administered, is far from being au- 
 thentic evidence. 
 
 3. It is probable some of the rules of proselyte 
 baptism did not prevail among tiiem so early, par- 
 ticularly that which supposed that all natural re- 
 lations were cancelled by it. It may therefore be 
 difficult certainly to determine wliat was exactly 
 the custom in this respect ; and if we were to allow 
 it to be such as the rabbics in after ages describe 
 it, then it can never be imagined that our Lord 
 would direct his apostles in all respects to conform 
 themselves to it ; and if not in all, who can say 
 exactly in how many ? 
 
 4. Though it is acknowledged. That we do not 
 meet with any instance in the earliest primitive an- 
 tiquity, in which the baptism of any child of Chris- 
 tian parents, whether infant or adult, is expressly 
 mentioned, — yet it is certain that Christians in 
 general have always been s|)okcn of, by the most 
 ancient fa-thers, as baptized persons ; — a'nd the apos- 
 tles, when writing to Christian churches, planted 
 many years before the date of their respective 
 episdes, argue with the members of them from the 
 obligation which their baptism brought upon them, 
 
490 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 in such a niamu'r as would lead us to l oncludo (hat 
 they were baptized in their own persons ; and it is 
 also certain that, as far as our knowied>?e of primi- 
 tive anti<|uity reaches, no unbaptizcd person re- 
 ceived the Lord's supper; which yet was an ordi- 
 nance, none will deny, that the descendants of 
 C'hristians received. Dr. Benson adds. That on 
 tliis supposition f/mealvyics would he of great im- 
 portance in religion, contrary to what St. Paul 
 intimates ; nor can wc reasonably think that God 
 would put our right to Christian communion upon 
 a fact, the evidence of which might sometimes be 
 so obscure as tlie baptism of some remote ancestor. 
 Whist. Life, vol. i. p. 367. Cornish on liapt. 
 p. 54.. Jcn7i. Jew. Antiq. vol. i. p. 133.* 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 3. 
 
 Mr. Joseph Mede supposes, not without some 
 considerable appearance of reason, that baptisit) has 
 a reference to washing a new-born infant from tiic 
 pollution of the birth. Compare 1 Pet. iii. 21. Tit. 
 iii. 5. compare Ezek. xvi. 4, .5. 
 
 Mede's Diat. on Tit. iii. 5. p. 63. 
 SCHOLIl'M 4. 
 
 As to the necessity of baptism, some seem to liave 
 laid too great a stress upon it, as if it were abso- 
 lutely necessary in order to salvation, grounding 
 their argument chiefly on John iii. 5. IVIark xvi. 16. 
 nevertheless, it will be readily allowed, tliat for any 
 to abstain from baptism, when lie knows it is an 
 institution of Christ, and that it is the will of Christ 
 that he should subject himself to it, is such an act 
 of disobe<lieuce to his authority, as is inconsistent 
 with true faith. 
 
 Wall on Inf. Btipt. e. vi. Hooker's Eccl. Pol. 
 lib. V. Cornish on Baptism, p. 8G. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Some have supposed that God has connected with 
 the administration of baptism some certain degree 
 of the eflfusion of his Spirit, which the person bap- 
 tized ( cict. par.) would not otherwise have received, 
 and which always remains with the baptized per- 
 sons till forfeited by some act of wilful sin : but the 
 proof from Scripture seems very deficient on this 
 head. The effusion of the Spirit on the baptized 
 seems chiefly, if not only, to refer to some miraculous 
 ijift conferred upon them, not always attended with 
 saving grace : and all that we can reasonably pro- 
 mise ourselves from such an institution is, that on 
 complying with this, as with any other evangelical 
 precept, we may more cheerfully expect the bless- 
 ing and presence of God with us in our Christian 
 course : nevertheless, God does not seem to have 
 bound himself to this or any other ordinance what- 
 
 * Mr. Wakefield, in liis Short .niirl Plain Account of the Nature of 
 naptisni. accordiii;^ to the New 'I'cstament, lias supported the sime 
 opinion whicii was advanced by Mr. Kmlyn. On tne other hand, tlie 
 oerpetuity of the institution is maintained by Mr. Josliuu Toulrain, in 
 his Short Essay on Baptism. 
 
 soever, in such a manner that extraordinary imme- 
 diate inlluenees should necessarily and inseparably 
 be connected with it. 
 
 Clarke on liapt. p. II. Bcnnct's Christian 
 Orat. vol. i. p. 326. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 6. 
 
 Mr. Dodwell carried the notion mentioned above 
 so far, as to suppose that there goes along with the 
 administration of baptism, if the person administer- 
 ing it be duly ordained, a certain immortalizing 
 spirit ; whereas jicrsons dying unbaptizcd arc not 
 immortal : and though Mr. Hallet does not assert 
 it in express terms, he seems to intimate something 
 very like it, when he expressly says, " That circum- 
 cision was that which gave the infant a right to 
 immortality and eternal life ; and that bapti.sm in 
 this very respect comes in the room of circumcision ; 
 yet that no infants arc miserable in a future state." 
 Dorlw. Scrip. Acc. of Rewards. Hallet on 
 Sc7-ipt. vol. iii. p. 2Uy.t 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 Upon the principles of the third and fifth Schol. 
 above, many have maintained that baptism is tlie 
 Christian reyencration, urging for that purpose John 
 iii. 5. Tit. iii. 5. and the use of the word in primi- 
 tive Christian authors, where it is certain it has 
 that sense : but we answer, 
 
 1. That if by regeneration we are to understand 
 that which makes a man a child of God, an heir of 
 eternal life, according to the promises of Scripture, 
 it is certain from the whole tenor of Scripture (vid. 
 Prop. 137 and 14.5.) that baptism alone is not suffi- 
 cient for this puri)ose : and it is plain in fact, that 
 persons may be baptized, while they continue un- 
 renewed and liable to divine condemnation. 
 
 2. That the utmost which the forecited text in 
 John can signify is, that a person, in order to being 
 a regular member of the Christian church must be 
 baptized, having received the purifying influences 
 of the Spirit: and if Xhtqov TraXiynvtrnaQ in Titus, 
 be rendered of the laver of regeneration, and ex- 
 plained of baptism, it can only signify the laver in 
 which the regenerate are to be washed ; and it would 
 be as absurd to say Christians arc regenerated by 
 that, as it would be to say Christians are generated 
 or born in the water with which the pollution of the 
 womb is washed away. 
 
 3. That on this principle, regeneration in adult 
 persons is a necessary preparatory to baptism, (as 
 it is certain holiness is by the argument in the pro- 
 
 + The notion advanced by Mr. Uodwcll produced a ronsiderabll 
 controversy, wliicli, so far a." related to that author's pecuhar opinion 
 concerning; the efiicacy of baptism, was of no importance. I!ut occa- 
 sion was taken from his publication to discuss the general question re- 
 lative to the innnaleriaiity and the natural immortality of (he soul. 
 Tile writers who bore the principal part in the debate were Dr. Sanuiel 
 Clarke and Mr. Anthouy Collins. Some account of the various tracts 
 which were published upon the subject may be .seen in the IViograpliia 
 Britannica, vol. iii. p. 399. vol. iv. p. 23. vol. v. p. 324, second edition; 
 under the respective articles of Clarke, Collins, and Dodwell. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 491 
 
 position,) and therefore must be something different 
 from it. 
 
 4. That nevertheless, as in the earliest days of 
 the primitive church, persons being brought to em- 
 brace Christianity were immediately baptized, the 
 time of their baptism and that of their conversion 
 being spoken of as one, and as the time when they 
 were born as it were into a new world, and joined 
 to the family of God's children, it is no wonder that 
 the action, by which they testified that change so 
 lately made, should sometimes be put for that 
 chanye itself: and thus illuminati also signifies the 
 same with baptized persons ; not that they were 
 illuminated by baptism, but because they were 
 generally baptized as soon as enlightened wifli the 
 knowledge of Christianity ; and it is plain that the 
 word TraKiyyivema is often put for any yreat change. 
 Suicer's Thesaur. Cicero ad Attic. 1. vi. Let. 
 vi. Waterland on Regen. Hebden on Regen. 
 
 LECTURE ecu. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLIII. 
 To inquire whether the immersion of the whole 
 body be an essential circumstance in baptism, or 
 whether it may be administered by sprinkling, or 
 pouring on water. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. In favour of immersion it is pleaded, That the 
 word ^airriSw, being derived from /3a?rra), properly 
 signifies to plunge. On the other liand, it is urged, 
 that in this diminutive and derivative form, it may 
 signify any method of washing, and is sometimes 
 used in Scripture for washing things which were 
 not dipped in water, but on which it was poured. 
 
 I Compare Luke xi. 38. Mark vii. 4. and tho.se 
 Scriptures in which the pouring out of the Spirit is 
 
 , called baptism. Acts i. 5, 8 ; xi. 15, 16, et sim. to 
 which some add 1 Cor. x. 2. and observe that (iairro) 
 is never used for bajjtism. 
 
 Dr. Dan. Scott on Matt, xxviii. 19. 
 
 2. It is pleaded. That plunging alone represents 
 our being buried with Christ in baptism, and con- 
 sequently that this ceremony is essential. Compare 
 Rom. vi. 4. Col. ii. 12. 
 
 Ans. It is allowed that there is in this pa,ssage an 
 allusion to that mode of baptism which then gene- 
 rally prevailed ; but in tlic institution of tliat ordi- 
 , nance, there is no declaration that it was chicny 
 t designed to represent this ; and persons were bap- 
 . tized, before it was generally known that Cluist 
 should die and arise from the dead. Our being 
 cleansed from sin, seems the thing prima i lly in- 
 tended ; which may well be represented by pouring 
 on water: and as this more naturally represents 
 
 the pouring out of the Spirit, the sprinkling us with 
 it, and the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus, it may 
 answer as valuable purposes as that mode which 
 more expressly represents a death and a resurrec- 
 tion. 
 
 3. The most considerable argument in favour of 
 immersion is, that it was practised in the primitive 
 ages. Several texts in the New Testament plainly 
 declare this : Matt. iii. 6, 16. John iii. 23. Acts 
 viii. 36 — 39. and it appears by ihe fathers, that this 
 was at least generally retained till clinic baptism, 
 /. e. a baptism of the sick in their beds, took place. — 
 To this it has been answered, (waving Mr. Maurice's 
 and Mr. Hebden's attempt to prove that baptism 
 by immersion was never certainly used in any one 
 instance,) 1. That though immersion might gener- 
 ally be used, there are some cases in which it is 
 dubious whether the persons were plunged or 
 sprinkled : such great numbers were converted and 
 baptized at the day of Pentecost, that some think 
 it would have been almost impossible to have 
 plunged them all : nor can it be supposed, that 
 being many of them strangers, and far from their 
 own habitations, they had that change of raiment 
 with them which decency, conveniency, and safety 
 would have required on that supposition. The 
 jailer and his family were baptized in the night. 
 Compare Acts xvi. 33 ; x. 47. 2. As some circum- 
 stances attending the institution of the passover, 
 not being essential, were afterwards varied, Exod. 
 xii. 11. and as some who insiVst on immersion, allow 
 a change in some circumstances as to the adminis- 
 tration of the Eucharist, both as to time and ges- 
 ture, and the form of tlie elements, we may on the 
 same principles allow of some variation here from 
 what was generally practised at first, especially as 
 the coldness of the climate, and the general disuse 
 of batliing among us, seems to require it. 
 
 Wall, on Inf. Bupt. Gale ng. Wall, Let. iii. 
 
 &c. Wail ag. Gale, p. 96. Shnu's Trav. 
 
 p. 4. Guyse's Par. on N. Test. vol. i. p. 12. 
 
 Foot on Bapt. Ton-good on the Mode oj 
 
 Baptism. 
 
 COROLLAUY 1. 
 
 It will appear hence, that they who practise bap- 
 tism by immersion, are by no means to be con- 
 demned on that account, since, on the whole, that 
 mode of baptism is evidently favoured by Scripture 
 examples, though not recjuired by express precept. 
 
 COKOLl.AKY 2. 
 
 Nevertheless, considering how little stress is laid 
 on what is merely ceremonial and circumstantial in 
 the Christian dispensation, considering how cfTec- 
 tually the main ends of the ordinance may be se- 
 cured without immersion, and how weak some of 
 tlic arguments for its universal obligation arc, 
 those who approve and practise it ought at least to 
 be candid towards those who differ from them ; and 
 
 I 
 
49-2 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 act witlioiit sufliciciit w arrant, if they separate from 
 such acts of coiimiunion with tliem, as they mi^ht 
 otherwise esteem proper expressions of mutual love, 
 and of tlieir common hope in tlic Gospel.* 
 
 SCHOLU'M. 
 
 In answer to the argument liinted at above, from 
 the col(l)i<'ss of our climate, it lias been ur<;e(l. That, 
 till within these few centuries, baptism by immrr- 
 sion was the general practice here in Eiin'iand, as it 
 is to this (lay in Russia: and where any particular 
 case recpiired such a precaution, warm water might 
 be used instead of cold. 
 
 Wall's Defence, p. 144. Foot, uhi supra, p. 32. 
 
 LECTURE CCIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLIV. 
 To give a brief view of the chief arguments for 
 and against infant baptism ; i. c. applying that ex- 
 ternal rite described Prop. 132. to infants, so far as 
 they are capable of receiving it. 
 
 Sect. I. The arguments for it are chiefly these : — 
 Arg. I. The precepts of Christ concerning bap- 
 tism, were to be explained by the custom prevailing 
 among the Jews in his time. Now, as when prose- 
 lytes came over to the Jewish religion, the children 
 were baptized with the parents, the apostles would 
 naturally conclude that children were included in 
 the general commission. Matt, xxviii. 19. — It is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That there is some uncertainty, Whether pro- 
 selyte baptism were used by the Jews in our 
 Saviour's time. On the whole, if infant baptism 
 were used in proselyting persons to Judaism, it 
 might be natural for the apostles to think of it in 
 making proselytes to Christianity; and though it 
 should be acknowle;'ged, that at first they might 
 not certainly know whether the children born after 
 their parents' baptism should or should not be bap- 
 tized, (it not being a point wherein their duty was 
 immediately concerned,) it might, nevertheless, be 
 afterwards revealed to them, as contained in that 
 commission they then received, as we know the 
 preaching the Gospel to the Gentiles was, though 
 they did not at first know that their commission ex- 
 tended to It. 
 
 2. That if it did prevail, on the principles of the 
 paidobaptisfs, it could not be intended as an entire 
 model for baptism, — since it would then dissolve 
 the nearest relations contracted before baptism, 
 and would render it unjustifiable to baptize the 
 children born after their parents' baptism. — It is 
 
 * See Mr. Bulkley's Tvfo Disrmirsfs on Catliolic Communion, re- 
 latin!!; ill |iarti<nl.ir to the ilifFerent Sentiments of Cliristians concerning 
 Baptjsm. Dr. Foster lias also a discourse on the same subject. 
 
 replied. It might be a model in the leading cir- 
 cumstances, though not in others of a more minute 
 kind. 
 
 Art). II. The apostles are said to have baptized 
 ichole families, (Acts xvi. 15, 33. 1 Cor. i. IG.) and 
 therefore probably infants among the rest. — It is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That it is not certain there were any infants in 
 those families. 
 
 2. If there were, it is reasonable to believe, that 
 when it is said whole families were baptized, it is 
 only meant that the ordinance was administered to 
 those of the family that were the proper subjects of 
 baptism ; and it is the more reasonable to acquiesce 
 in this interpretation, because whole houses also 
 are said to believe. Acts xvi. 32, 34. 
 
 Arg. III. Our Lord says, Mark x. 14. speaking 
 of infants. Of such is the kint/dom of Heaven: which 
 some understand, q. d. the rights and privileges of 
 the Christian church belong to such. — It is answer- 
 ed, The v,or<\ toihtuv, there used, may signify, not 
 those that are infants in age, but persons who in the 
 temper and disposition of their mind resemble the 
 simplicity and innocence of children, which the 
 connexion seems to favour. 
 
 Henry on Christ's Favour to little Children. 
 
 Arg. IV. Circumcision, as applied to Abraham, 
 was a seal of the righteousness of faith, (Rom. iv. 
 11.) or a token of his being accepted of God as 
 righteous upon his believing ; and confirmed a 
 covenant, by which spiritual and eternal blessings 
 were promised to him, as our Lord argues, Matt, 
 xxii. 31, 32. and the apostle, Heb. xi. 16. in both 
 which places it is strongly declared, that for God to 
 call himself the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 
 implies his providing for them the blessing of a 
 future state. The apostle does also expressly assert 
 that Christians are the children of Abraham, as 
 they are heirs of the blessings promised to him. 
 Rom. iv. 11—17. Gal. iii. G— 18, 29.— Now, foras- 
 much as the seal of this covenant was by God's 
 express command to be applied to infants, (Gen. 
 xvii. 1—4.) it not only shows that there is no ab-. 
 surdity in supposing the seal of the covenant of 
 grace to be so supplied, but lays a foundation for a 
 strong presumption that the children of believers 
 under the Christian dispensation should not be cut 
 off from this conditional, tliougli not absolute, token 
 of the divine favour to them, at least without some 
 express declaration in the New Testament for that 
 purpose ; yet we are so far from finding any de- 
 claration, that the contrary seems to be strongly 
 intimated, (Acts ii. 39. and Rom. xi. 17, &c.) where 
 the apostle, representing the Gentiles as grafted 
 upon (he stock of the Jewish church, and the Jews 
 as hereafter to be grafted on their own stock, seems 
 likewise further to imply that the privileges of the 
 seed of believers were still the same. Some also 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 493 
 
 urge Jer. xxx. 20. and Isa. Ixv. 23. as expressly 
 declaring that children should be put upon the 
 same foundation under the Gospel as under the 
 law ; which indeed the passages dc appear to inti- 
 mate. — To this it is answered, 
 
 1. That circumcision was to the seed of Abraham 
 only a seal of a temporal covenant ; but this is suffi- 
 ciently confuted by what has been already observed. 
 So that, on the whole, it appears, as circumcision 
 sealed to .Jewish infants their inheritance in the 
 land of Canaan, and title to the peculiar privileges 
 of the Jewish nation, on condition of their observing 
 the Mosaic law, — so it likewise assured them that 
 if they imitated the faith of Abraham, they should, 
 though they had no perfect righteousness of their 
 own, be finally accepted of God, as their father 
 Abraham was ; which was not a promise of the 
 Mosaic law, though (as the apostle justly argues in 
 the above-cited Gal. iii. 17.) that law could not 
 abrogate it. .See John vii. 22. 
 
 2. It is pleaded. That the Jewish dispensation, 
 being more imperfect, is not to be made the model 
 of the Christian ; but it is replied. We ought to have 
 strong reason to believe the latter less favourable 
 than the former, before we grant that in any article 
 it is so. If it be objected that infant baptism is no 
 benefit, it will be considered afterwards. 
 
 3. To this argument, drawn from Acts ii. 39. it is 
 replied, That the words may be understood, q. d. 
 " Your seed in every generation shall, on their be- 
 lieving, receive those spiritual blessings which are 
 now by the Gospel offered to you; and your sons 
 and daughters shall at present receive the extraor- 
 dinary communications of the Spirit, foretold by 
 Joel, and displayed in us." But the latter part of 
 this paraphrase does not seem to suit with what is 
 added, to all those that are afar off, which some 
 would explain, " Even to all those {i. e. of your de- 
 scendants) that are at the remotest distance ;" though 
 I should rather think it signifies, " To those among 
 the Gentiles who shall be converted, as well as to 
 you." It is also to be considered, what interpreta- 
 tion a Jew would naturally put on these words. 
 Much the same reply and remarks may be applied 
 to the other texts. Some urge Gal. iii. 28. as a 
 further illustration of this argument ; supposing it 
 a clear proof that baptism came directly in the room 
 of circumcision ; that being the only instance, ex- 
 cept the priesthood, (from which ivomen are by the 
 Gospel excluded, 1 Cor. xiv. 34. 1 Tim. ii. 12.) in 
 which there was a distinction made between persons 
 of different sexes ; and Col. ii. 11, 12. has also been 
 urged, as expressly asserting that baptism is Chris- 
 tian circumcision ; but it may be replied. It only 
 signifies that baptism obliges us to that mortif ca- 
 tion, which is the true Christian circumcision. 
 
 Watts' s Harm. p. 29. Foot on Baptism, p. 41. 
 Ary. V. The words of the apostle, 1 Cor. vii. 
 
 14. are pleaded, as having a direct reference to in- 
 fant baptism ; since hohj often signifies those that 
 might be admitted to sacred rites ; — and unclean, 
 those that were to be excluded from them. Exod. 
 xix. 6. Lev. xxi. 6, 7. 2 Chron. xxiii. 6. Ezra ix. 
 2. 1 Sam. xxi. 6. compared with Exod. xix. 15. 
 Lev. xi. 24, 25. and the sense will be, q. d. " Were 
 not the matrimonial converse of a believer and un- 
 believer lawful, the church would not encourage the 
 bringing such children to be baptized, which yet we 
 know it does ;" but other interpretations are brought ; 
 particularly, 
 
 1. That /(o/)/ may signify legitimate ; and wne/caw, 
 bastards ; but this, besides that it is an unusual 
 sense of the words, would make the argument very 
 weak, and be almost proving idem per idem. 
 
 2. That it may intimate the prospect of the con- 
 version of the unconverted parent, and consequently 
 of having the children bred up Christians ; but they 
 might be so educated, even though the Heathen 
 parents were not converted ; which would entirely 
 enervate this answer. Hallet, vol. iii. p. 326. 
 
 LECTURE CCIV. 
 
 Arg. VI. Some have apprehended, that they have 
 been able to trace such intimations at least of infant 
 baptism, in the earliest ages of the church, as may 
 to a high degree of probability prove it an apostolic, 
 and consequently divine, institution. 
 
 1. Hermas says, " The baptism of water is neces- 
 sary to all." 
 
 Ans. The Pastor of Hennas is a visionary book, 
 the genuineness of w hich is far from being certain ; 
 but allowing it to have ever so much weight, this 
 will only prove that baptism is necessary to those 
 who are the proper subjects of it ; but cannot 
 determine that infants are so. 
 
 Wall on Inf. Bupt. part. i. c. i. Mosh. de 
 Rebus. 
 
 2. Irenaeus ( adv. Haret. lib. ii. c. xxxix.) men- 
 tions infants among the regenerate, i. e. the baptized, 
 as the word generally signifies in his writings. 
 
 Ans. We have only a Latin translation of this 
 work ; and some critics have supposed this passage 
 spurious; or, allowing it to be genuine, it will not 
 be granted that to be regenerate, always in his writ- 
 ings, signifies baptized; nor is it certain how far 
 the fathers extended the period of infancy ; but this 
 last answer can be of no avail, as he distinguishes 
 infants from parvuli and pueri. 
 
 Wall, ibid. c. iii. Gale against Wall, Ep. xii. 
 Wallis's Def. c. xii. p. 282, &c. 
 
 3. J u.stin Martyr speaks of sonie " Who had been 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 made disriplos from tlieir infancy ;" hut this may 
 t)nly refer to tlieir havinfj hccn early instructed in 
 tlie principles of the Christian religion. 
 
 Justin Martyr's Works, p. fi'2. 
 
 4. Tlicrc is indeed a remarkahle passage in The 
 Questions and Answers to tlie Orthodox, Quest, h i. 
 p. 4"24.) which most evidently mentions infant hap- 
 lism in as express terms as possible, inquiring into 
 the different states of those children who were, and 
 who were not, baptized at the general resurrection ; 
 but though these questions arc ascribed to Justin 
 IMartyr, and are no doubt of considerable antiquity, 
 there is no evidence that he was tlie author of them ; 
 nor can their age be so exactly ascertained as on 
 this occasion, "and many others, one could desire. 
 
 (j. It is allowed there are many passages in Ori- 
 gen that expressly refer to infant baptism ; but they 
 are chielly to be found in those translations of liis 
 Greek works which were done by Rulfmus and 
 Jerome, who made some very bold alterations ac- 
 cording to their own judgment and taste ; but this 
 is not applicable to all tlic passages brought from 
 him ; and it is to be remembered, that he was born 
 of Christian ancestors ; and his father having been 
 martyred in the year 202, when Origcn Iiimself was 
 17 years old, the remoter Christians of his family 
 must probably have been nearly contemporary with 
 tlie apostles. It may be added, that the translations 
 of .lerome, which are often referred to on this occa- 
 sion, were by no means so lax as those of Rulhnus. 
 
 Wall's App. p. 11. Wall's Def. p. 372. 
 
 G. Cyprian is allowed by all to speak expressly of 
 infant baptism as generally used in the church ; but 
 it is justly answered, That he speaks as expressly of 
 infant communion in the Eucharist ; and conse- 
 quently that the divine original of the latter may as 
 well be argued from him as that of the former ; yet al- 
 most all pxdobaptists allow that to be an innovation. 
 
 7. Tertullian advises parents to defer the baptiz- 
 ing of their children, except where their lives were 
 in danger; which plainly shows it v\as used in his 
 time. This the antipap-dobaptists allow, and sup- 
 pose the practice arose first in Africa, and then 
 came generally to prevail elsewhere, from the mis- 
 taken apprehension that baptism was absolutely 
 necessary to salvation. 
 
 5. In the Apostolic Constitutions, which arc 
 allowed to be an ancient, though not a divine, 
 book, tlierc is express mention made of infant bap- 
 tism, as commanded by Christ, in Matt. xix. 14. 
 
 Apost. Const, lib. vi. § 16. p. .304. 
 
 It is replied, That so many superstitions arc in- 
 troduced in this book, that there is no reason to 
 rely much on its authority ; and that in the ritual 
 of biii)tism, lib. viii. § 8. tlierc is no ru}>ric for infant 
 baptism, nor any form to be used in performing that 
 oflice; but it is answered. This being only the rubric 
 
 for n-eehhj irorsfiip, there is no rule for baptizing 
 any, the prayers relating only to those already bap- 
 tized ; and those words of the deacon, § 12. Let the 
 mother receive the infant, make it ])lain that infant 
 communion, as well as infant baptism, was then 
 used ; which indeed enervates anj' arguments that 
 arc brought from the supposed antiquity of these 
 Constitutions. 
 
 Chapm. on Bapt. p. 27. Peirce on the Euch. p. 
 77. Towgood's Infant Baptism. 
 
 LECTURE CCV. 
 
 Sect. II. Arguments ar/ainst infant baptism. 
 
 Ari/. I. It is pleaded. That infants arc incapable 
 of complying with the terms required, in order to 
 baptism, i. e. repentance and faith, and of receiving 
 those instructions which Christ directed as previous 
 to it. Matt, xxviii. 19. Compare 1 Pet. iii. 21. 
 
 It is answered, That those instructions and con- 
 ditions were only required of those who were capa- 
 ble of them : thus, had Christ sent his apostles to 
 proselyte men to the Jewish religion, he might have 
 said, " Go, proselyte all nations, circumcising them 
 in the name of the God of Israel, and teaching them 
 to observe all things which Moses had commanded." 
 As for the word /laOijTivrrarc, which some understand 
 of preacltinr/ previously to baptism, it may signify 
 make disciples ; and that infants may be compre- 
 hended under that name, some have argued from 
 Acts XV. 10. 
 
 Gale aej. Wall. Whit, on Matt, xxviii. 19. 
 Cornish on Baptism, p. 165. 
 
 Arf/. II. It is said that infants are incapable of 
 receiving any benefits by baptism, and consequently 
 that the ordinance is exposed to contempt by apply- 
 ing it to them. 
 
 It is answered, 1. That it may be on many 
 accounts both useful and comfortable to the parents, 
 for whose sake it might perhaps be chiedy ordained. 
 2. That it may lay a foundation for serious and 
 aflfecling addresses to the children, as they grow up 
 (compare Deut. xxix. 10, 11) ; and, by the way, we 
 may observe the difference between the expression 
 there, and those used Neh. x. 28. which seems to 
 have its foundation in the particular engagements 
 relating to marriage, and in those relating to the 
 one-third part of a shekel, which they seemed volun- 
 tarily to impose upon themselves as an annual 
 tribute ; on which account it was natural to assem- 
 ble the adult only. 3. That being thus entered into 
 Christ's visible church, they have a share in the 
 prayers offered for that church in general ; to which 
 some have added, that it is proper the ministers and 
 elders of each respective society should maintain 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, J 
 
 some particular inspection over the children belonj:- 
 ing to it, to which inspection their being baptized 
 may give them some additional title ; but it is by a 
 very particular turn of thought that Mr. Morrice, in 
 his Dialogues, argues that such relation to the 
 church may bring them within the reach of its cen- 
 sures, in case of gross misbehaviour, which, if 
 allowed, may be a considerable benefit ; but per- 
 haps it may be urged, that the counterpart to this is 
 admitting them to the Lord's table, if they do no- 
 thing to deserve censure. 4. That considering cir- 
 cumcision as a seal of the covenant of grace, both 
 this and the preceding argument would have lain 
 as strongly against applying that, as applying bap- 
 tism to infants ; and indeed it is plain from that 
 institution, as also from Christ's being baptized 
 himself, that an ordinance may be sometimes ad- 
 ministered to those who are not capable of all the 
 purposes for which it was originally instituted, and 
 which it may answer to some others. 
 
 Call-. Inst. 1. 4. c. xix. Tout/. Inf. Bap. p. 4S. 
 
 Arg. III. The silence of the New Testament upon 
 this head, is further urged as an argument against 
 infant baptism, — it being said to be improbable 
 that, if Christ had intended it, he should not have 
 commanded it as expressly as Moses commanded 
 circumcision. 
 
 It is answered, That consequential arguments are 
 to be allowed their weight, as appears from our 
 Lord's proof of a resurrection (Matt. xxii. 31, 32.) ; 
 and it has been pleaded on the other side, that had 
 Christ intended to have cut off the infant seed of 
 believers under the Christian dispensation from any 
 privileges which they enjoyed under the Mosaic, he 
 would have expressly declared it, or at least would 
 I have guarded against any thing that looks like an 
 I encouragement to expect and claim them ; which, 
 from ^ 1. it evidently appears he has not. 
 
 Foot's Letters, No. 2. 
 
 Arg. IV. The silence of the primitive fathers 
 upon this head has been much insisted upon ; and 
 it is said that some passages in them strongly oppose 
 infant baptism, particularly that of Justin Martyr ; 
 in which he says. That a profession of faith is 
 necessary in order to baptism ; which notion gave 
 occasion to the use of sponsors, when infant baptism 
 was introduced. 
 
 It is replied. That Justin speaks of the adult, or 
 may consider the confession of the sponsor as the 
 child's, being made in his name ; which is the more 
 probable, as subsequent fathers use the same 
 language, long after infant baptism was confessedly 
 the prevailing practice. 
 
 Wall's Def. p. 401. Hookers Eccl. Pol. p. 335. 
 
 Tertullian is known to have declared against 
 infant baptism, except in case of danger. Gregory 
 Nazianzen advises to defer it till three years old. 
 
 IHICS, AND DIVINITY. 49.5 
 
 Basil blames his auditors for delaying it, — which 
 implies there were then many unbaptized persons 
 among them ; but these might not perhaps have 
 been the children of Christian parents ; which 
 answer may also serve to the argument brought 
 from the case of those wlio, like Constantiue, de- 
 ferred baptism to their death, on a foolish appre- 
 hension that all sins committed after it were 
 unpardonable. It is indeed surprising that nothing 
 more express is to be met with in antiquity upon 
 this subject ; but it is to be remembered, that when 
 infant baptism is first apparently mentioned, we 
 read of no remonstrance made against it as an inno- 
 vation ; and that as we have no instance of any 
 persons expressly asserted to have been baptized 
 in their infancy, so neither of any children of Chris- 
 tian parents baptized at years of discretion ; for it 
 is certain Constantino's father did not profess him- 
 self a Christian till long after he was born. 
 
 Whist. Bapt. Gale, Epist. ix. Wall on Inf. 
 Bapt. part i. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 Since there is so great an obscurity on the qnes- 
 tion, and so many considerable things may be 
 advanced on both sides, it is certainly very reason- 
 able that Christians, whose persuasions relating to 
 infant baptism are different, should maintain mutual 
 candour towards each other, and avoid all severe 
 and unkind censures on account of such difference. 
 Berry-st. Lec. vol. ii. p. 206. See Wall, Gale, 
 Rees, Stennett, and Baxter, on Baptism.* 
 
 .SCHOLIUM. 
 
 A further question, distinct from any yet handled, 
 may arise concerning baptism, i. e. Whether it is 
 to be repeated, if it have been received by those 
 who were not the proper subjects of it ? It seems 
 that it should not : since it is evident, that M hcn 
 persons have been cast out of the Christian cliurch 
 for their immoralities, the apostle, in the directions 
 
 * The question concernins: infant baptism hi^ continued to be a fruit- 
 ful source of discussion; the consequence of wiiicii is, lliat many 
 references may he added to tlie numerous ones tliat tiave already been 
 made. We shall subjoin a list of such works on the subject as have 
 fallen williiti the sphere of our kiionlcdj;e. In di fnice nf the practice 
 of infant baptism, wc may mention Dr. Fleming:'s Plea for Infants, and 
 the Appendix, and his Defence ; Dr. Tayh)r's Covenant of Grace, and 
 Baptism the Token of it, explained upon Scripture I'rincinles; Mr. 
 Brekell's I'jrdobapti<m, and Piedobaptism defended ; Dr. Aodin^ton's 
 Christian Minister's Reasons for Kaptizin^ Infants, and for administer- 
 ini; the Ordinance by sprifiklin^ or pouiinEr of AVater; the same 
 author's Summary of^ the Christian Minister's Rea.sons for haptizin;; 
 Irifatits; Mr. Amner's Account of the Occasion and Desiijn of the 
 positive Institutifjns of Christianity; Mr. Uobins's edition of Mr. 
 Matthew Henry's Manuscript Treatise on Baptism; and Dr. Edward 
 Williams's Anlipaedobaptism examined. 
 
 On the opposite side of the cjuestion. recourse may l>e had to Mr 
 Burrough's two Discourses on positive Institutions; Xir. fJiU's Answer 
 to Mr. Towgood's Baptism of Infants a reasonable Service ; the same 
 writer's Antipa;dobaptism. or Infant Baptism an Innovation ; Dr. 
 SteiMietl'sRcmarks on the Chri.'tian Minister's Reasons for administer, 
 ins Baptism l>y sprinklint; or ponrinsof Water ; Mr. Jenkins's Incon. 
 sistency of Infant Sprinklin; with Christian Riptism, with rclisious 
 I'sefulness, and with Salvation by Christ alone ; Mr. Rk hard's History 
 of Antichrist, or Free Thoughts on the Corriiplinns of Christianity ; 
 ^Ir. Booth's Pfedoliaplisni ex.imiiicd, on the Principles, Concession.*, 
 and Reasonings of the most learned Padol aptists , Mr. Robinson's 
 History of Baptism ; and Mr. Ashdownc's New and decisive Proofs from 
 Scripture and Reason, that .Adults only are ijicluded in the Design ol 
 tlie New Covenant, or the (Jospel Dispensation, and were Members of 
 the Church of Christ in the Apostolic Age. 
 
496 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 he gives conccrniiii? their rc-adniission on repent- 
 ance, does not direct their being rebaptized ; nor 
 docs Peter hint any thing of that kind to Simon 
 Magus, Acts viii. 20, &c. ; and perhaps had the 
 contrary principle been admitted, and encouraged 
 in Scripture, difiiculties might have arisen, whicli 
 it \\as best to avoid, and too great a stress liave 
 been laid on ^vhat was merely ritual. As for the 
 argument urged from Acts xix. 1 — 5. it is certain it 
 cannot authorize tlic repetition of Christian baptism, 
 since that of John could not be so called ; and it is 
 certain that the person there spoken of had not been 
 baptized so much as by John the Baptist himself, 
 or in a manner agreeable to the exact tenor of his 
 baptism. Whist. Life, vol. ii. 
 
 LECTURE CCVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLV. 
 
 The law of Christ requires. That Christians, 
 througliout all ages of the churcli, should in a 
 solemn manner edt bread and drink irinc in their 
 religious assemblies, as a commemoration of his 
 death, and a token of their engagements to be im- 
 parted to them, and a badge of their mutual affec- 
 tion to each other. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Christ did in a solemn manner set apart bread 
 and wine after the paschal supper, distributing each 
 to his disciples for the purposes afterwards to be 
 mentioned. Matt. xxvi. 26—28. Mark xiv. 22 — 26. 
 Luke xxii. 14 — 20. 1 Cor. xi. 20, &c. compare Acts 
 ii. 42, 46. 
 
 2. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Paul, in the fore- 
 cited places, agree that this rite was intended foi a 
 commemoration of Christ, and a representation of 
 his body broken and his blood shed ; which mast 
 intimate that we are hereby publicly to own that we 
 are not ashamed of avowing ourselves the disciples 
 of a crucified Master, and that we desire to impress 
 our minds with a scene of such great and awful 
 importance. 
 
 3. As the above-mentioned writers agree that 
 Christ, in delivering the cup, declared it to be the 
 new covenant of his blood, or a tohen and represent- 
 ation of tliat covenant which was established by his 
 sufferings, — this must imply, that those who would 
 attend the institution aright must consider the 
 nature of this covenant, must consent to the de- 
 mands of it, and in so doing, may clicerfully expect 
 the blessings communicated by it. 
 
 4. As eating and drinking together is a social 
 action, and as, by the preceding step, eating and 
 drinking in this ordinance represerits our common 
 
 relation to Christ, it does, by consequence, remind 
 all Christians of their intimate relation to each 
 other ; and the apostle also represents it in this 
 view. 1 Cor. x. 16, 17. 
 
 Eisner's Obs. vol. ii. p. 106. Whitby in Loc. 
 Chnndler's Serm. vol. iv. p. 351. 
 .5. Tliat this rile was intended for continued use in 
 the Chur(-h of (Christ, appears from the early testi- 
 monies of Pliny, Justin Martyr, Ignatius, and all 
 the oldest writers, ^^ hich assure us that it was in 
 fact practised even from the apostles' time ; as also 
 from St. Paul's declaring that hereby ji-c show forth 
 the Lord's death till he come (1 Cor. xi. 26.) ; and 
 it may further be urged, from the ends of the ordi- 
 nance specified above ; for if it were necessary for 
 those that saw Christ suffer, or lived in the age 
 when that great transaction passed, thus to comme- 
 morate his death, and in this solenm manner to 
 renew their engagements, when the assistances and 
 evidence arising from the extraordinary communi- 
 cations of the Spirit were so peculiar ; if it were 
 necessary by this token to express and cherish their 
 mutual love, when there were such peculiar bonds 
 of endearment, arising from their being a little 
 number so severely suffering in the same cause, it 
 is certain that we, who do not enjoy any of their 
 advantages, must much more need it for the like 
 ends. 
 
 1 — 5. 6. Valet propositio. 
 
 Barcl. Apol. Prop. 13. Justin Martyr, p. 97. 
 Hale's Posth. Tract. Whist. Prim. Euch.* 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There cannot be a change of tlie elements of bread 
 and wine into the substance of Christ's body and 
 blood, as the Papists maintain ; because, waving 
 all the absurdity with which such a doctrine is 
 pregnant, and the many instances in which a thing 
 is said to be, what it is only intended to represent, 
 (see Gen. xvii. 10; xli. 20. Ezek. v. 5. Dan. vii. 
 23. John XV. 1 ; x. 9 ; 1 Cor. x. 4. Rev. xvii. 9.) 
 if these elements were the very body and blood of 
 Christ, they could not be the commemoration of it, 
 which nevertheless we have shown above that tiicy 
 are. Hoadly, p. 24. 
 
 * V.irioiis pieces c.\plan:itory of the nature and de.sio;n of the Lord's 
 Sn)>|>er have Ijocn jmlfh^heil since Dr. Doddridge's decease. Among the 
 tracts of a shorter kinil, may be nientioiteil Dr. Taylor's Lord's Supper 
 explanied U]>ou Scripture Principles, a Discourse by Dr. Savage, two 
 Sermons try ]Mr. Toller, two Discourses by Mr. Temple, a concise Ac- 
 count of the Inslitution by the present Editor, a free Address to Pro- 
 testant Dissenters on the subject, by Dr. Priestley, end the I'rotestant 
 Dissenter's Answer. But the njnst elaborate work upon this liead is 
 *)r. Bell's Attempt to ascertain and ilhistrate the Authority, Nature, 
 and Design of the Institution of Christ, ■commonly called the Com- 
 muuion and the I.rtrd's Su pper. — Dilferciit views of the ordinance are 
 t.'ivcu by Bishop Bagot, in his Letter to Dr. Belh Asa supplement to 
 his treatise. Dr. Bell lias pul)lished An In-juiry, whether any D'lctrine 
 relating to the Nature and EH'ect.s of the Lord's Supjier can be justly 
 founded on Ihe Discourse of our Lord, recorded in the sixth Cliapter 
 of the Gospel of St. John? An opinion of Dr. Cudvvorth's, advanced 
 in his Discourse concerning the true Ntitiori of the Lord's Supper, and 
 which is, that this supper is a feast Ufton a sacrifice, has been revived 
 by Mr. Willrts, Dr. Worthington, Bishop Warburton, and Bishop 
 Cleaver. See their publications on the subject. An answer to Dr. 
 W'arbnrfon appeared, in llcmarks upon his Sermon ; and Dr. Cud- 
 worth's Hypothesis has hr^n opi)o.sed Ijy Dr. Bell. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 497 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 There cannot be a propitiatory sacrifice offered to 
 God in this ordinance ; because it is the commemo- 
 ration of that sacrifice which is frequently said to 
 be off ered once for all. Heb. ix. 26—28 ; x. 10, 14. 
 
 Hoadhj, p. 47. Bret against Hoadhj, p. 69. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 Considering the ends for which this ordinance 
 ■was instituted, it is plain that it ought to be ap- 
 proached with great solemnity and serious con- 
 sideration : and though the charge of examining 
 themselves, given to the Corinthians, 1 Cor. xi. 27, 
 28. does indeed refer peculiarly to the gross immo- 
 ralities which prevailed among them in this respect, 
 — yet the words are expressive of a general duty : 
 but the Gospel lays down no directions as to the 
 time to be spent in preparation, which to be sure in 
 different circumstances may and ought to be dif- 
 ferent ; nor does it appear that any Christian, who 
 in the general behaves agreeably to his profession, 
 need scruple to use this ordinance on a few minutes' 
 recollection, when he has an opportunity to do it. 
 
 Burnet's 4 Disc. p. 327—329. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 Those who are guilty of such scandalous immo- 
 ralities, that we cannot reasonably believe they are 
 in good earnest in their Christian profession, ought 
 not to be encouraged to approach this ordinance, 
 till they have discovered the sincerity of their re- 
 pentance by the reformation of their lives. 
 
 Burn, on the Art. p. 289. Humphries' s Free 
 Admission, &c. 
 
 COROLLARY .5. 
 
 It follows from the preceding corollary, that those 
 who behave in so profligate a manner, as to bring a 
 disgrace upon their Christian profession, ought on 
 proper conviction to be excluded, by the society to 
 which they belong, from the participation of this 
 holy ordinance, till they give sufiicient proof of 
 their repentance. By this means they may perhaps 
 be reformed, others warned, the honour of religion 
 secured, and a friendly communion of Christians 
 in this institution promoted. Accordingly, we find 
 that this lias been customary among the churches 
 from their earliest foundation ; and is evidently 
 countenanced, and indeed in effect required, by the 
 following Scriptures, 1 Cor. v. 3 — 7, 9 — 13. 2 Thess. 
 iii. 6, 14. 1 Tim. i. 20. 2 John v. 10, II. It is 
 allowed indeed, that the delivering to Satan, men- 
 tioned 1 Cor. v. C). may probably refer to some 
 diseases inflicted by a miraculous power (compare 
 Prop. 117. No. ii. §1.); but the apostle's general 
 rule in the concluding verses of that chapter, must 
 by a parity of reason prevail, where the extraor- 
 dinary power is ceased. 
 
 Limh. Theol. 1. vii. c. xviii. Hooker's Ecclrs. 
 Polity, p. .368. 
 
 2 K 
 
 COROLLARY 6. 
 
 Any constitution, by which any member of the 
 Christian church, how great soever his rank may be, 
 shall be rendered incapable of being excommuni- 
 cated if he behaves amiss, is inconsistent with the 
 Scripture plan ; and any constitution, by which tem- 
 poral punishment shall be inflicted upon those who 
 fall under the censure of a church, in consequence 
 of such censure, must in like manner be an incum- 
 brance, rather than advantage for the proper exer- 
 cise of discipline. 
 
 Dissent. Gent. Ans. to White. Mem. of Emhjn, 
 App. p. 140. 
 
 COROLLARY 7. 
 
 The Lord's Supper is a seal of the covenant of 
 grace, in the sense stated, Def. 94. compared with 
 gr. 3. of the above demonstration. 
 
 Hoadly's PlainAcc. p. 164. 
 
 LECTURE CCVII. 
 
 COROLLARY 8. 
 
 The Church of Rome has been guilty of a most 
 sacrilegious usurpation, in denying the use of the 
 cup to the laity in this ordinance. 
 
 Burr. View of Pop. p. 76. 
 
 COROLLARY 9. 
 
 Solitary Masses, i. e. the celebration of the Lord's 
 Supper in secret by the priest alone, are to be con- 
 demned as inconsistent with one part of the design 
 of this ordinance, i. e. its being a pledge of mutual 
 love among Christians. (V id. gr. 4.) Nevertheless, 
 if a few should join with a sick person in receiving 
 it in private, in some cases it may be very allov.- 
 able, as not liable to this objection. 
 
 Cas. Consult, p. 218. 
 
 COROLLARY 10. 
 
 To make the receiving this ordinance a qualijica- 
 
 tion of admittance to any office in or under the civil 
 
 government, is evidently a profanation of the 
 
 ordinance itself: not to insist upon the natural 
 
 iniquity of excluding peaceable and loyal subjects 
 
 from places of trust and profit, merely on account 
 
 of tiicir religious opinions. 
 
 Abcrncthy for Repeal of the Test, ^'C* 
 
 * TliP late applications to putliamciit for a repeal of the Corporation 
 a]i<l Tist Al ts, have Riven rise to a iiniiiber of pnbliratioiis on the sub. 
 jert, some of which we shall enumerate. The following are in favour 
 of the repeal : —'I'hc Ri^^ht of I'rolestanI Dissenters to a complete 
 To eration asserted ; R< flpcl ions on the Oaths which are tendered to 
 Subjects in this Country^ An Ajipeal to the Candour, Ma;;nanimity, 
 and Justice of those in t'ower ; A S(Tmon by Ur. Priestley ; A Letter 
 to the Bisliops, on the Application of the Protestant Dissenters to Par- 
 liament ; A Letter to Edward Jelfries, Ks ). Chaii niaii of the Conuiiiltec 
 of Prote>tant Dissenters; A Letter to a N'olileinan, containui;; Con. 
 siderations on the Laws relative to the Dissenters; A Letter to the 
 Author of a Ttevicw of the Case of the Protestant Dissenters, by Sir II. 
 Unplifiild, Bart, ; The Dissenter's Plea, by the Uev. George Walker; 
 An Address to the Inhabitants of Nottingham, by the Rev. Gilbert 
 W'akelield ; Cursory Reflections, by the same; Cursory Reflections on 
 the Policy, .lusliee, and expediency of repealing the Test and Corpora. 
 
4a8 A COURSE 
 
 e OIIOI.LAKY 11. 
 
 The rustoin of adiuiiiisteiing; the Lord's Supper 
 to condemned rritninah just before (heir execution, 
 is botli absurd and danjjerous ; as there is ffenerally 
 little room to iniat^ine tlicy can be suitably qualiUcd 
 for it : and it is natural for them to consider it as 
 a token that they arc already in a state of pardon 
 and aeecptanec with (lod ; wliich may prevent 
 their eniployinp: the few remaining moments of life 
 in a manner suited to their circumstances, and may 
 harden others in sueli vain and presumptuous hopes. 
 
 Old Whiff, No. Ixv. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It plainly appears from the most credible account 
 of the primitive ehurcli, tliat the Lord's Supper was 
 used much more frequently among; them than with 
 us ; and that it made a part of their public worship 
 every Lord's Day. 
 
 Pierce on the Euch. p. 174. Erskine on freq. 
 Commun. . Baxt. vol. i. p. 470. Calv. Inst. 
 1. iv. c. xvii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Some have objected against our translation of 
 Matt. xxvi. 26. (compare Mark xiv. 22.) where we 
 render tvXoynaaq blessed it, — whereas they suppose 
 it signifies Christ's giving thnnhs to God when he 
 brake tlie bread, compare Luke xvii. 22. 1 Cor. 
 xi. 24. whence tliey infer that the consecration of the 
 elements has no foundation in the original institu- 
 tion. As for the text in question, it must lie 
 allowed to be ambiguous ; but as the word [it] must 
 be understood after [brake] though it be not ex- 
 pressed, there is the less reason for censuring our 
 translation ; especially since the apostle so ex- 
 
 tioD Acts, by William Bristow, Esq.; A Vindication of the Modern 
 Dissenters, by llic lUv. Samuel I'.ilmer ; Familiar Letters to tlie In- 
 liabitants of Birmiiij^liam, Ijy Dr. Priestley: An History of tlie Cor. 
 poration and Test Acts, by Capel LofTt, Esq.; A Vindication of llie 
 ^ame ; An Address to the (Jpposers nf the Repeal of the Corporatitin 
 and Test Act; Some Remarks on the Rescdutions of the .Archdea- 
 conry of Chester, by tlie Rev. J. Smyth ; Remarks on the Resolutions 
 
 passed in the County of Warwick, in three Letters to the Earl 
 
 of Ajlresford ; A Letter to the Ri^lit Reverend the Archbishops and 
 Bishops of £n^;land, by an Upper (iradnate ; A Letter to the Bishop of 
 !St. David's, on his Charge to the Clergy of his Diocese, by a Welch 
 Freeholder; The Spirit of the Constitution and that of the Church of 
 Eii£^land compared ; Reasons for seeking a Repeal, by a Dissenter ; 
 Facts submitted to the Consideration of the Friends to Civil and 
 Reliu'ious Liberty, and High Church Politics, as exemplified in the 
 late Opposition to the Repeal of the Test Laws, and in the Riots of 
 Birmingham. 
 
 The Tracts, among others, which were written against the Repeal, 
 are as follows ; A Letter to the Deputies of the Protestant Dissenting 
 Congregations in and about the Cities of London and Westminster ; 
 Observations on the Case of the l*rotestant Dissenters; Two Letters 
 addressed to the Delegates of the several Protestant Dissenters who 
 met at Devizes ; A Letter to Earl Stanhope on the suhjc-ct of the Test ; 
 Observations on the Conduct of the Protestant Dissenters ; The Danger 
 of repealing the Test Act ; A Chiircli of En.' land IMan's Answer to the 
 Arguments and Petitions of the Protestant Dis.senters against the Test ; 
 An Essay on the Origin, Character, and Views of the Protestant Dis- 
 senters; A Look to the last Century ; A short Examination of some of 
 the principal Reasons for the Repeal; A Letter to the Parliament of 
 Great Britain on the intended Application of the Dissenters ; A Review 
 of the case of the Proli'stant Dissenters; Letters to the People of 
 England against the Repeal ; A Scourge for the Di.ssciiters ; Some 
 Strictures on a late Publication, entitled Reasons for .seeking a Repeal 
 of the Test Act; Cursory Reflections on the Repeal ; Observations on 
 Mr. Lofft's History of the Corporation and Test Acts; and Historical 
 Memoirsof Religious Dissension. Early in the coiitroveisy, there was 
 a republication of Bishop Sherlock's Arguments against a Repeal of 
 the Corjior ition and Test Acts, and of Bishop Hoadly's Confutation. 
 
 ' LECTURES 
 
 pressly speaks of our blessing the sacramental cup, 
 1 Cor. X. 16. which cannot without great violence 
 admit of Bishop Hoadly's interpretation, q. d. 
 " The cup over which we bless or adore God." 
 That may with great propriety in the language of 
 Scripture be said to be blessed, which is in a solemn 
 manner set ajiart from a common to a sacred use, 
 Gen. ii. 3. and we may be said to bless it, when we 
 solemnly pray that God may attend it with such 
 influences from above, as may make it the occa- 
 sion of edification to our souls. Compare Mark xi. 
 9—11. 
 
 Hoadlijs Plain Acc. p. 32. Bret against 
 Houdly, p. 19. Howe's Episcopacy, p. 167. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is greatly to be lamented that Christians have 
 perverted an ordinance, intended as a pledge and 
 means of tlieir mutual union, into an occasion of 
 discord and contention, by laying such a dispro- 
 portionate stress on the manner in which it is ad- 
 ministered, and the posture in which it is received. 
 As to the latter, a table posture seems most eligible, 
 as having been used by Christ and his apostles, 
 and being peculiarly suitable to the notion of a 
 sacred feast, in which as children we are invited to 
 attend the board of our heavenly Father, and feast, 
 as it were, upon the great sacrifice: and kneeling, 
 which was never introduced into the church till 
 transubstantiat ion was received, may prove an occa- 
 sion of superstition. Nevertheless, provided it be 
 not absolutely imposed as a term of communion, it 
 will be the part of Christian candour to acquiesce 
 ill the use of it in others by whom it is preferred. 
 It appears that standing was at least frequently used 
 in the Cliristian church, viz. always on the Lord's 
 Day, and between Easter and Whitsuntide. 
 
 Peirce's Vmd. of Diss. p. 489. Burn. 4 Disc. 
 p. 321. Hooker's Eccles. Polity, p. 244. 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Whether the Lord's Supper should be adminis- 
 tered at 7toon, or in the evening, is a question of 
 very small importance. It is true our Lord insti- 
 tuted it in the evening ; but probably later than our 
 assemblies are ordinarily held. The primitive 
 Christians often communicated in the morning 
 before day ; the reason of which probably was, that 
 they made it the last act of their vtorship, and 
 assembling by night, for fear of their persecutors, 
 and spending most of the night in reading, preach- 
 ing, prayer, and singing, the celebration of the 
 Eucharist would naturally be driven oil till morn- 
 ing. This shows, however, that they did not lay 
 any great stress upon the time. Some urge that 
 dinner-time, being our chief meal, answers to the 
 snppcr among the Jews. Perhaps the evening suits 
 best with the convenience of religious retirement 
 immediately after it. But it is most reasonable to 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 4Ui) 
 
 refer it to the judgment of ministers and people of 
 particular societies ; and it is very absurd to con- 
 tend eagerly on either side the question. 
 
 Watts's Times and Places, p. 83. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Mr. Peirce has at large contended for the ad- 
 mission of infants to this ordinance, — pleading the 
 use of it even unto this day among the Greeks, and 
 in the Bohemian churches, till near the time of the 
 reformation ; but especially from the usage of the 
 ancient churches, as it appears from many passages 
 in Photius, Augustin, and Cyprian. His proof 
 from the more ancient fathers is very defective. 
 His arguments from Scripture chiefly depend upon 
 this general medium, that Christians succeeding to 
 the Jews as God's people, and being grafted upon 
 that stock, their infants have a right to all the 
 privileges of which they are capable, till forfeited 
 by some immoralities, and consequently have a 
 right to partake of this ordinance, as the Jewish 
 children had to eat of the passover and other sa- 
 crifices ; besides this, he pleads those texts which 
 speak of the Lord's Supper as received by all 
 Cliristians, 
 
 The most obvious answer to all this is, that which 
 is taken from the incapacity of inf ts to examine 
 themselves, and discern the Lord's body : hut he 
 answers, That this precept is only given to persons 
 capable of understanding and complying with it, 
 as those which require faith in order 1o haptism, 
 are interpreted by the Pxdobaptists. 
 
 As for this argument from the Jewish children 
 eating the sacrifice, it is to be considered that this 
 was not reqvircd, as circumcision was ; — tlie males 
 were not necessarily brought to the temple till they 
 were twelve years old, (compare Luke ii. 42.) and 
 the sacrifices which they ate of were chiefly peace- 
 offerings, w hich became the common food io ail that 
 were clean in the family, and were not looked upon 
 as acts of devotion, to such a degree as our Eucha- 
 rist is, though indeed they were a token of tlicir 
 acknowledging tiie divinity of that God to whom 
 they had been ofl'ered, (compare 1 Cor. x. 18.) and 
 even the passover was a commemoration of a tem- 
 poral deliverance ; nor is there any reason to believe 
 that its reference to the Messiah was generally un- 
 derstood by the Jews, 
 
 On the whole, where infant haptism appears du- 
 bious, it ought certainly to be an argument against 
 infant communion ; because the objections that are 
 made to the former, lie with yet greater weiglit 
 against the latter ; and because the disuse of infant 
 communion prevents many of the inconveniences 
 that may be apprehended from the practice of bap- 
 tizing infants. It is certain there would be more 
 danger of a contempt arising to the Lord's Supper, 
 from the admission of infants, and of confusion and 
 2 K 2 
 
 trouble to other communicants ; so tliat not being 
 required in Scripture, it is much best to omit it. 
 When children are grown up to a capacity of be- 
 having decently, they may soon be instructed in 
 the nature and design of the ordinance ; and if they 
 appear to understand it, and behave for some com- 
 petent time of trial in a manner suitable to that 
 profession, it would probably be advisable to admit 
 them to communion, though very young; which, 
 by the way, might be a good security against many 
 of the snares to which youth are exposed. 
 
 Peirce on the Euch. p. 76. Taylor's Worthy 
 Communic, p. 147.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 The foundation of the practice mentioned in the 
 preceding scholium, seems plainly to have been a 
 mistaken apprehension of the absolute necessity of 
 this ordinance, in order to salvation ; which doc- 
 trine was built upon an erroneous interpretation of 
 John vi. 53. which, with the preceding and follow- 
 ing passages, we have not quoted above, for the 
 explication of the Scripture doctrine of the Lord's 
 Supper, since they will make so good a sense, if wc 
 suppose them only to relate to believing regards to 
 Christ, as the great support of the spiritual life. 
 Compare John vi. 03, f 
 
 LECTURE CCVIII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 Many have stated the doctrine of this ordinance, 
 so as to represent it as if it were a kind of charm, 
 and have supposed that some extraordinary con>- 
 munications of divine influence are universally 
 annexed to it, or at least to a regular and serious 
 attendance upon it ; which has been grounded in a 
 great measure on John vi. .54, ^jf>. together with 
 some very high things which the fathers have said 
 of the ellicacy of it : but if we follow Scripture 
 alone, it will only appear to be an instituted means 
 of our communion w ith God, in a regular attend- 
 ance on whi(^h wc may hope that God will meet us 
 and bless us, as in other ordinances of divine insti- 
 tution ; but cannot say that he has invariably lied 
 himself up to it ; nor does experience agree with 
 such a notion. Vid. Prop. 1.52. Schol. 5. 
 
 Clarke's Disc. Taylor's worthy Communic, 
 SCIIOLII'M 8. 
 
 W must be allowed, that it was an ancient usage 
 in the Christian church to mix uatcr witii tlic sa(^ra- 
 mental wine, in commemoration of the water mingled 
 
 • Dr. Priestley, in iiiii Address to Protestant Dissenters, on the 
 Sut)jert of eivini; the Lord's Siipptr to Cliildrcn, contends for the 
 propriety of admitting them to communion at a very early age. 
 
 t We have already referred to Dr. Jicll's inr|niry relative to thin 
 chapter. The difl'erent rommentators may Ije consulted on this subject, 
 
500 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 with blood A\liicli ciiiiic out of Clirist's side (John 
 xix. 34.) ; and it is nr<je(l, That the Jews mingled 
 water with tlic cup of w ine which they drank at the 
 Passover ; yet this circumstance docs not seem 
 essential to the ordinance, more than the particular 
 hour or posture used by Christ and his disciples; 
 and the blood of the grape is mentioned alone, as 
 that to whicli the institution refers, though tliere 
 might happen to be some water then mingled « ith it. 
 
 Whist. Prim. Emit. Ohs. 17. p. 97. 
 
 SCIIOLII'M 9. 
 
 When the Scripture doctrine relating to baptism 
 and the Lord's Supper is attenti\ely considered, it 
 w ill appear that there is no foundation for drawing 
 any objection from them against the truth of Chris- 
 tianity, — since the rites themselves are so simple, 
 and their natural tendency to promote good im- 
 pressions on the mind so obvious ; and it is greatly 
 for the credit of the Gospel that these, in their 
 Scriptural simplicity, should be compared with the 
 rituals of other religions, as delivered to us by the 
 most authentic writers ( Prop. 96. Cor.) ; as it i.s 
 also to the credit of the Protestant cause, that they 
 should be compared with those numerous, perplex- 
 ing, absurd, and idolatrous additions which the 
 Church of Rome has made to them, whereby each 
 of them Is rendered the least part of itself. 
 
 Picart's ReL Ccrem, of all Nat. Gcddcs's 
 
 Misc. Lei. a(j. Tind. Post. ay. Tind. c. v. 
 
 p. 310. 
 
 DEFIN'ITION XCV. 
 
 The ordinances which were instituted by Christ, 
 to be used by all Christians as seals of the covenant 
 of tjrace, (Dtf. 94.) may properly be called sacra- 
 ments. 
 
 corollary. 
 
 Baptism and the Lord's Supper are sacraments. 
 Comp. Prop. 152. Cor. 4. Prop. 155. Cor. 7. 
 
 SCHOLIL'M 1. 
 
 The controversy. Whether there be any more 
 sacraments than these, is evidently a question 
 about words. If our definition of it be admitted, it 
 is certain that neither holy orders, (as they arc 
 called,) nor matrimonii, nor extreme unction, are 
 Christian sacraments, since all allow tliat at least 
 the two former were not intended for all Christians ; 
 and there is no proof that the anointing the sick was 
 to continue longer than the gifts of healing ; nor 
 was that, properly speaking, extreme unction, which 
 is a ceremony merely of human device. 
 
 The cross in baptism, as some have stated it, seems 
 to have much of the nature of a sacrament, only that 
 it wants a divine institution. 
 
 Hooker's Ecel. Pol. 1. v. § 65. p. 226. 
 
 The definition of sacrament which some have 
 given, I. e. " an outward and visible sign of an 
 inward and spiritual grace," is very obscure, — 
 
 unless it supposes some divine influence of an ex- 
 traordinary nature inseparably annexed to the out- 
 ward sign ; and if this be the meaning of it, there 
 is reason to question whether there be any sacra- 
 ment at all. Comp. Prop. 152. Svhol. 5. Prop. 
 155. Sclwl. 7. Limb. Tlteol. 1. v. c. 66. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 When the doctrine of confirmation, as stated by 
 the Church of England, is compared with their defi- 
 nition of a sacrament, it must be acknowledged to 
 be one, distinct from baptism and the Lord's Sup- 
 per ; for the laying on the hands of the bishop upon 
 a person professing to take his baptismal covenant 
 upon himself, is a visible sign of his receiving the 
 Holy Ghost, which must be an inward and spiritual 
 grace ; and it agrees with all the parts oi our defi- 
 nition, excepting that it is not an institution of 
 Christ ; for the imposition of the apostle's hands, 
 by which the visible gifts of the Spirit were com- 
 municated, (Acts viii. 14 — 18.) is sometiiing of so 
 dillerent a nature, that it can never be made a just 
 foundation for continuing this rite in the view in 
 which it is practised. 
 
 Clarke on Confr. p. 40. Hoadl. on Conf. p. 
 74. Calam. Def. vol. ii. p. 268. Picart's 
 liclif/. Cercm. Howe's Episc. p. 167. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The popish doctrine of penance depends entirely 
 upon a supposition that there is a certain order of 
 men, who, by virtue of an authority derived from 
 the apostles, and so from Heaven, may efficaciously 
 absolve men from the guilt of sin, appointing such 
 a punishment to satisfy divine justice as they .shall 
 think proper ; on the penitent's submitting to which 
 the sentence of absolution is passed, and the favour 
 of God sealed to him, as his repentance has been ex- 
 pressed by it. This would indeed be a sacrament, 
 were it of divine institution ; but it is built chiefly on 
 absurd interpretations of Matt, xviii. 18. and John 
 XX. 23. of which sec Prop. 117. Cor. 1 and 5 : and 
 by wliat authority such absolutions are pronounced, 
 as the English liturgy prescribes, it becomes those 
 who venture to act upon it very seriously to con- 
 sider ; as also how such a practice can be reconcil- 
 able with the essential principles of the protestant 
 religion. 
 
 Scudder's Chris. Daily Walk, p. 42. Blandev. 
 Free Thowjhts, p. 148. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Some have thought that Christ, in washing his 
 disciples' feet, instituted a Christian sacrament, 
 taking the word sacrament not strictly in our sense, 
 but in general for a religious rite instituted by 
 Christ; and have urged John xiii. 13—15. as ex- 
 press words of institution ; but they may be fairly 
 understood as a general declaration of the obligation 
 which Christians are under to condescend to each 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 501 
 
 other ; anji it is to be considered, that, in cold 
 countries, the wasliing eacli other's feet would be a 
 troublesome rather than friendly office ; nor are any 
 traces of such a religious rife among Christians to 
 be found in the New Testament, or the most primi- 
 tive writers (comp. 1 Tim. v. 10.) ; which plainly 
 intimates this office was not performed by all, for 
 then it would not have been made a distinguishing 
 character. 
 
 LECTURE CCIX. 
 
 DEFINITION XCVL 
 One person, or event, or institution, in the divine 
 dispensations, of which an account is given us in 
 the word of God, may be said to be typical of 
 another and greater person or event, afterwards to 
 appear, when there is a remarkable resemblance be- 
 tween the former and the latter, whether that 
 resemblance be or be not known by the manifesta- 
 tion of the latter. This may be called the theolo- 
 gical sense of the word, and rvTrog has sometimes that 
 signification in Scripture, though it is there used in 
 some variety of senses, — sometimes expressing a 
 model o{ a. thing exhibited before the thing itself, 
 whose type it is ; and sometimes the copy mads from 
 thence ; and sometimes simply a resemblance, with- 
 out determining it to either of the former senses. 
 Compare John xx. 25. Rom. v. 14. Acts vii. 43, 
 44. 1 Pet. iii. 21. 1 Cor. x. 11. Heb. viii. 5. Phil, 
 iii. 17. 
 
 COROLLARY. 
 
 It evidently appears from the reasoning of the 
 apostle in his epistle to the Hebrews, and from 
 comparing the history and economy of Moses with 
 the whole New Testament, that there were many 
 things in the Jewish dispensation w hich were in this 
 sense typical of Christ and Gospel blessings. How 
 far the resemblance might be revealed to some saints 
 under the Old Testament, we cannot certainly de- 
 termine ; but the observation of that resemblance 
 may be a confirmation of our faith, as it is a proof 
 of the unity of design running through the Old 
 Testament and the New, as was observed above, 
 Prop. 07. (jr. 5. Prop. 112. Cor. 1. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It may be an agreeable employment to the pious 
 mind, to trace out the resemblance between Christ 
 and several persons mentioned in the Old Testa- 
 ment, and to observe how the deliverances brought 
 to the people of God by them are exceeded by those 
 brought by Christ; though there should be no ap- 
 prehension at all that any of the Jews were before 
 Christ's appearance taught to look on such persons 
 as types of him. Doddr. 10 Serm. No. I, ad Jin. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Considering how expressly St. Paul says that the 
 Holy Ghost signified spiritual blessings by some of 
 the ceremonies of the Mosaic law, (Heb. ix. 8.) and 
 comparing it with several of those passages in the 
 writings of Moses, Isaiah, and other prophets, 
 which refer to the Messiah, and the spiritual bless- 
 ings to be obtained by him, it will appear probable 
 that the evangelical references of several Old-Tcsta- 
 ment types might be revealed to them ; which might 
 probably be one great foundation of that exalted 
 pleasure which they found in their public ordinances 
 and Scriptures. Compare Psal. xxv. 14; cxix. 
 18. 1 Pet. i. 10, 11. — compare also John viii. 56. 
 which w ill be to the present purpose, whether Dr. 
 Warburton's peculiar interpretation of the words, 
 hinted at Prop. 120. Sol. (jr. 1. be or be not ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 Scott's Chris. Life. Sykes on Chris. Limb. 
 Collat. Scrip. Jenn. Jew. Ant. vol. ii. p. 3. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLVI. 
 No one is by the Christian dispensation obliged 
 to obey any part of the Mosaic law, as such, any 
 more than he would have been if that law had never 
 been given. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. The greatest part of the Mosaic law appears to 
 have been of a temporary nature ; part of it being 
 intended to typify the Messiah and his kingdom 
 {Dcf. 96. Cor. and Schol. 2.); many of its precepts 
 being of a local nature, which could not be observed 
 any longer than the temple of Jerusalem was stand- 
 ing, and the Jews inhabited their own land; partly 
 as a great multitude of their laws were peculiarly 
 suited to their particular circumstances, and in- 
 tended (as was observed before) to prevent the 
 danger of idolatry, which they might otherwise have 
 learnt from their neighbours (Prop. 122. Sol. § 1.); 
 to all which we may add. That it would have been 
 impossible that all the nations of the earth, or c\cn 
 such distant nations as those already constituting 
 the Christian church, should obey some of the 
 Mosaic precepts, particularly those relating to their 
 yearly feasts, to which some have supposed the 
 apostle refers, Gal. iv. 26, 27. 
 
 Sykes OH Chris, p. 179. Witsii ^yypt. lib. iii. 
 c. 14. Warburt. Julian, 
 
 2. The ancient prophets foretold that the Messiah, 
 when he appeared, should introduce a new dispen- 
 sation and more perfect law, and should abrogate 
 that of Moses. Compare Jer. xxxi. 31, 32. with 
 Heb. viii. 6—13. Dan. ix. 27. Jcr. iii. 16. Psal. ex. 
 4. Hob. vii. 11—19. To which wc may add all 
 those texts which declare that, under the Messiah, 
 the Heathen nations should be incorporated with 
 the Jews, and live under the same gracious insti- 
 tution ; which could not possibly be cll'cctcd with- 
 
502 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 out ail allcrafioii in (lie Mosaic law, (as was ol)- 
 sorvcd in i/r. I.) Compare Isa. xix. 19 — 2.'). Jcr. 
 iii. 17. Mic. iv. 2. Mnl. i. 11. to which wc may 
 add that ct lebratcd text Deat. xviii. 18, 1.9. wliich 
 Seems to express that a new legislator should arise. 
 
 3. The apostle expressly asserts the abolition of 
 the INIosaic law. See the wliolc epistles to the 
 (Jalatians, Romans, and Hebrews; as also Rom. 
 xiv. 14. 2 Cor. iii. 9—11. Eph. ii. 14, 15. Col. ii. 
 14 — 17. 1 Tim. iv. 4; and Clirist also intimated it. 
 Compare Matt. xv. 11. John iv. 21, 2.3, 24. 
 
 4. The destruction of the temple, and its lyings so 
 many hundred years in ruins, whereas even the 
 Babylonish captivity was in comparison so short, 
 and tlie worsliip at Jerusalem even then not totttUy 
 interrupted, wliile the temple continued desolate 
 (compare Isa. xli. 1 — .5. with 2 Kings xxv. 8, 9.) ; 
 together with the loss of the Jewish genealogies, 
 and their ignorance of the signification of some 
 words in their own law, especially the names of 
 some of the unclean animals, may alTord a probable 
 argument that their law is abolished. 
 
 1,2,3,4. b. Valet propositio. 
 
 Collins' s Lit. Sch. p. 251. Hooker's Eccl. Pol. 
 Boyle's Works, vol. iii. p. 146. Locke on 
 Eph. ii. 15. Limb. Collat. South's Serm. 
 
 conoLLARY. 
 
 Those precepts which were delivered by the Jew- 
 ish prophets, and perhaps also all kinds of positive 
 laws instituted before the Gospel, are as much 
 abrogated as the law given by Moses himself. Vid. 
 Matt. xi. 13. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 To this it is objected. That there are several Scrip- 
 tures of tlie Old Testament, in which the perpettiiti/ 
 of the Mosaic law is asserted in the strongest terms ; 
 V. ff. Gen. xvii. 13. Exod. xii. 14,17,24; xxxi. 16, 
 17. Deut. xxix. 29. and a multitude of the like 
 texts ; to which may be added Jcr. xxxiii. 17 — 22. 
 
 To this it is replied. That the Jews must and do 
 allow that the phrases there made use of and ren- 
 dered for ever, often signify a limited duration ; 
 V. ff. 1 Sam. i. 22. (compared with Num. iv. 3, 23, 
 &e.) Deut. xv. 17. and Exod. xxi. 6. (compared with 
 Lev. xxv. 41.) Jer. ii. 20. (compare 1 Mac. xiv. 
 41.) ; and oS^fS may be rendered for tlie age ; i. c. so 
 long as tliis age or dispensation shall continue, sup- 
 posing it distinguished from the age to come, or the 
 Mes.siah's kingdom. Compare Matt. xii. 32. Heb. 
 ii. 5. to which we may perhaps add Isa. ix. 6. It 
 is certain the Jews themselves cannot vindicate 
 some of these prophecies as true, without having 
 recourse to such .solutions as may be sulhcient to 
 answer this objection. Compare Mai. i. 11. 
 
 Berrim. at Bogle's Lcct. vol. ii. Serm. 18. 
 SCHOLIl'M 2. 
 
 It has also been objected. That Christ directly 
 
 declares against a purpose of abrogating the Mosaic 
 law, even in its least precepts. Matt. v. 17. 
 
 It is answered, That the law and the prophets 
 sometimes signify the moral precepts (compare 
 Matt. xxii. 40.) ; and as to the rest, Christ could 
 not properly be said to destroy those institutions, 
 wlii(-li he so fully answered, as to set the purpose 
 and wisdom of them in the most advantageous light, 
 tliougli, having fulfilled them, they were of course 
 superseded. 
 
 Limb. Collat. Resp. ad Scrip, iii. p. 202. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 The apostles indulged the Jews in the observa- 
 tion of the Mosaic law, and thought it proper 
 themselves, in some instances, to conform to the 
 institutions of it; but they did it upon prudential 
 considerations, not allowing the necessity of it in 
 order to salvation, but strongly contending for the 
 liberty of Christians in this respect (see Acts xvi. 
 3 ; xxi. 20 — 29. compare Acts xv. 29.) ; to w hich 
 we may add. That while the temple continued 
 standing, and before the destruction of Jerusalem, 
 the ceremonial and political law were so interwoven 
 with each other, that it was undoubtedly exi)edi- 
 ent for converted Jews, dwelling in Judea, to com- 
 ply with and observe those institutions ; and the 
 apostles' compliance with sacrifices in particular 
 might be owing to this view of them, as a kind of 
 tribute paid to God, under the character of their 
 King ; and was perfectly consistent with wliat tlie 
 apostle so often declared, concerning the freedom 
 of the Gentiles from this yoke, and the absolute 
 necessity that Jews and Gentiles should seek their 
 justification and salvation by Christ alone ; so that 
 the great clamour which Morgan raises upon this 
 head, as if Paul and Barnabas on the one side, and 
 all the rest of the apostles on the other, preached a 
 dilferent and inconsistent Gospel, seems very un- 
 reasonable. 
 
 Both maintained the Mosaic law to have been of 
 divine authority, and recommended a prudential 
 regard to it in some instances and degrees ; but 
 neither maintained its absolute necessity, nor di- 
 rected to a dependence upon it for righteousness, 
 as appears from the whole tenor of the epistles. 
 
 Burn, on the Art. p. 100. Morg. Mor. Phil. 
 
 vol. i. p. 34. Lei. Answer to Morgan, vol. 
 
 i. p. 399. Chap. Euseb. vol. ii. p. 129. Jenn. 
 
 Jeiv. Antiq. vol. i. p. 26.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4 
 
 The precepts which Christ gave in Matt. v. 21, 
 See. are a part of God's natural law ; and were con- 
 
 ♦ Mr. Caleb Jcarorke, in a tract, entitled A Vindication of the 
 Moral Character of the Aiiosllc Paul, from the Charge of Insineerily 
 andHypocrisy broiiKlitagainst it l>y Lord Bolinghroke, Dr. Middleton, 
 and others, hath contended that the .lews, after their emliracins Chris- 
 tianity, continued under an obligation to observe the institutions of 
 Moses, The same sentiment is nnaintained by Dr. Priestley, in bi» 
 Letters to the Jews, and in other parts of his writings. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 tained in those precepts of Moses, which our Lord 
 there sets himself to explain and vindicate ; so that 
 they are not in general to be looked upon as in- 
 stitutions peculiar to the Christian religion, as 
 
 I 
 
 LECTURE CCX. 
 
 PROPOSITION CXLVII. 
 The Scripture assures us, there are many created 
 spirits distinct from men, who have a pennanent 
 existence, and who from their office are called 
 angels ; some of whom are and will continually be 
 holy and happy, whereas others are in a state of 
 apostasy and misery. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. That there are many spirits, who have a per- 
 manent existence, and from their oflice are called 
 Miijeh, appears from Matt. xxiv. 36 ; xxvi. 53. Acts 
 xxiii. G — 8. 
 
 2. That these spirits arc distinct from men, or 
 from human souls, appears from Job xxxviii. 7. 
 Psal. viii. 5. Heb. xi. 22. 
 
 3. That some of these spirits are and will con- 
 tinue in a state of holiness and happiness, appears 
 from Matt, xviii. 10 ; xxv. 31. Luke ii. 13, 14 ; xv. 
 10 ; XX. 36. 
 
 4. That others ol them are in a state of apostasy 
 I and misery, is evident from Matt. x. 1 ; xxv. 41. 
 
 Mark v. 8, 9. John viii. 44. James ii. 19. 2 Pet. ii. 
 4. 1 John iii. 8. Jude 6. 
 
 1, 2, 3, 4. 5. Valet proposilio. 
 
 Cusmumd Ai)f/elor/r. p. 23, &c. Farmer s Diss, 
 uu Mir. ch. iii. Introd. to Anc. Uiiir. Hist. 
 p. 101. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 As it was observed above, Prop. 86. gr. 3. Scliol. 
 1. That the Heathens had among them some notion 
 of the existence of benevolent spirits superior to 
 men, — so it seems, from some passages cited there, 
 that they were also persuaded of the existence of 
 evil (lemons ; and indeed many of those deities which 
 they worshipped were, according to their own my- 
 thology, so vicious and so malignant, as to resemble 
 
 503 
 
 appears from the manner in which they are intro- 
 duced in Matt. v. 17 — 20. Compare Roni. vii. 7. 
 Grot, de Jure Belli et Pacis, lib. i. c. ii. Groii. 
 Not. in Loc. 
 
 devils, rather than good angels. See the references 
 under the scholium quoted above. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is certain that the word ayytXng, in the New 
 Testament, docs not always signify one of those 
 beings which we call ant/els ; but that it frequently 
 imports no more than tnessevr/er ; and is on this 
 account applied tamcn (James ii. 25. Luke vii. 24 ; 
 ix. 52.) ; to which many commentators think Acts 
 xii. 15. should be added ; and Mr. Gough contends 
 that the word is to be taken in this sense in that 
 celebrated text, 1 Cor. xi. 10. which he supposes to 
 refer to the spies who were sent into Christian as- 
 semblies by their enemies, who would severely 
 cxpoae any indecencies observable amcng them. 
 
 Gough's Dissert, in Loe. 
 
 In like manner the word lia(io\oQ does sometimes 
 signify a false accuser, or a wicked person of the 
 human species (2 Tim. iii. 3. Tit. ii. 3. John vi. 
 70.) ; to which may perhaps be added 1 Tim. iii. 7. 
 but Jude 6. is by no means to be added to the in- 
 stances above, as some have supposed. 
 
 Hutchins. of Witclic. p. 252. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 It is a singular notion of Mr. Lowman, that, ac- 
 cording to the Hebrew language, not only intelligent 
 beings or spirits arc called angels, but every thing 
 that cither notifies any message from God, or exe- 
 cutes his will, and in particular all visilde appear- 
 ances in material symbols, as fire, air, winds, and 
 storms (Psal. civ. 4. Compare Exod. iii. 2, 4 ; xiii. 
 21 ; xix. 19.) ; whence, by the way, he observes, 
 that it is not necessary to suppose that Jehovah and 
 the angel of Jehovah, mean two distinct spirits, — the 
 one God, the other a ministering spirit (compare 
 Gen. xlviii, 15, 16.) ; but the last of these texts 
 very ill agrees M'ilh his hypothesis ; for, surely, 
 Jacob would not pray that the fame of fire might 
 bless his grandchildren ; and the apostle's quotation 
 
 PART X. 
 
 SCRIPTURE DOCTRINE OF GOOD AND BAD ANGELS, AND OF A 
 FUTURE STATE; WHICH CONCLUDES THIS WORK. 
 
504 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 of Psal. civ. !, in Ileb. i. 7. deferininos it fo a st-nse 
 ilili'erent from w hat tiiis learned writer could give it. 
 
 Lou-tn. Civ. Gov. of tlw Ilvb. p. 45. 
 SCHOLIl'M 4. 
 
 It is a very peculiar conjecture of Mr. Fleminn;, 
 but it seems by no means to be suflieicntly sujiport- 
 eil, tliat all the good angels, who have ever been 
 employed as messengers of God to the iidiabitants 
 of eartli, had been the spirits of departed saints; 
 and particularly, that the angel who appeared to 
 the siiepherds (Luke ii. 3, &c.) was the spirit of 
 Adam, attended by all those of his race who were 
 then in a state of glory, who constituted the hea- 
 venly choir there spoken of, and who sung that 
 sublime anthem on the Redeemer's birth. It is true 
 that the .lews had a notion among them, that tlie 
 departed spirits of good men ollieiatcd as angels ; 
 which may perhaps be referred to in the forenien- 
 tioned Acts xii. 15. (vid. Philonis Jud. Op. p. 131 
 and 2S6. and Fam. Expos, vol. iii. in Loc. and 
 Waterland's Serm. vol. ji. p. 90, 91.) but Heb. i. 
 14. compared with Matt. xxv. 31. where all the 
 angels are so expressly distinguished from the 
 whole human race, then brought to their final judg- 
 ment, plainly demonstrates this author to be in a 
 great mistake w hen he carries this peculiar thought 
 to such an extravagant height. 
 
 Flem. Christol. vol. i. p. 78. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 The Scripture does not particularly inform us 
 wliat was the sin by which Satan and his confe- 
 derates fell from their original state of holiness and 
 liappiness. Some have conjectured that it might 
 be their aspiring to some higher dignity than God 
 lia<l assigned them, and think that, on that account, 
 they are said, in the place cited above, not to have 
 liept the state or principality they were under Ttjv 
 apxtjv ^avTwv; and for this reason pride may be 
 called the condemnation of tlic Devil, supposing the 
 Devil there to be signified (1 Tim. iii. G.) ; and for- 
 asmuch as it is hardly to be imagined that they 
 would dispute tlie throne with (iod, some have con- 
 jectured, that their crime miglit be refusing that 
 liomage to the Loyos, which God required of the 
 angels (Heb. i. 8.) ; and they have pleaded, that this 
 supposition illustrates the harmony and beauty of 
 the divine conduct, in making use of Christ as the 
 great agent in destroying Satan's kingdom among 
 men, and finally in condemning Satan to that 
 punislimcnt, to whicli he and his confederates are 
 reserved. 
 
 Boyse's Worhs, vol. i. p. 266. Reyn. of Any. 
 p. 41. Hunt's Hist. Ess. p. 312.* 
 
 * On the subject of this srlKilium, sec Baiimsfarten, quoted above, 
 who supposes the crime of Satan and his confederates to have been a 
 combined attempt to seize the sovereignty of this world. 
 
 LECTURE CCXI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CFA'in. 
 To enumerate the chief properties of yood anycls 
 mentioned in the Scriptures. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. They are immortal, and do not propagate their 
 species. Luke xx. 36. 
 
 Baxter's Works, vol. ii. p. 189. 
 
 2. They are in a state of being superior to that 
 of man, even in his original dignity and glory. 
 Psalm viii. 5. 
 
 3. They are endued with extraordinary degrees 
 of knowledge and wisdom, which are no doubt con- 
 tinually improving by their long experience. 2 Sam, 
 xiv. 20. 
 
 4. They are endued with extraordinary power. 
 Psal. ciii. 20. 2 Thess. i. 7. Compare Gen. xix. 
 11. and 2 Kings xix. 35. (which is strangely inter- 
 preted by Sir Isaac Newton, as referring to Tirsha- 
 kah, king of Ethiopia. Vid. Newt. Chron. p. 282.) ; 
 besides many other instances of the like kind men- 
 tioned in Scripture. 
 
 5. They have not such gross bodies as ours. 
 Compare Luke xxiv. 39. with Heb. i. 7. 1 Cor. xv. 
 50. compare Dan. ix. 21, 23. 
 
 6. There are various orders of angels. Jude 9. 
 
 1 Thess. iv. 16. Dan. x. 13. Rev. xii. 7. Compare 
 Eph. i. 21. 1 Pet. iii. 22. CoL i. 16. 
 
 Baxter s Works, vol. ii. p. 192. Burn. Archceol. 
 p. 410. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Mr. Joseph Mede argues, from Zecli. iv. 10. 
 Rev. 1. 4 ; iv. 5 ; v. 6 ; viii. 2. that there are seven 
 archanycis ; but the passages referred to rather 
 afford an occasion of conjecture than a foundation 
 of clear and convincing argument. Compare Job 
 xii. 15. Zech. vi. 5. Medc's Diut. on Zech. iv. 10. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Whether angels be or be not entirely incorporeal, 
 is a question which we are not capable of deter- 
 mining ; many have thought that it is the preroga- 
 tive of the Divine Being alone to be wholly separate 
 from matter; and some have urged, that the manner 
 in which Christ, the Lord of angels, is confessedly 
 united to it, affords a probable proof that they have 
 some body. The offices assigned them at the judg- 
 ment-day do likewise favour this hypothesis, and 
 especially tlie forming the blessed, after the resur- 
 rection, into one society with them. Compare 
 
 2 Kings ii. 11 ; vi. 17. 
 
 Cleric. Pnevm. ^ 11. c. i. Burn.de Stat. Mart, 
 p. 170. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 It is exceedingly probable that angels were 
 created before the earth ; which seems strongly to 
 be intimated in Job xxxvii. 4, 7. The arguments 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 505 
 
 brought to prove the contrary from Gen. ii. 1. and 
 Exod. XX. 11. are sufficiently answered by observing 
 that the heavens there spoken of may be supposed 
 only to signify the atmosphere, or at most the lumi- 
 naries of the firmament. It is also urged, that 
 things done before the creation of our world are 
 represented as eternal ; but the limited sense of the 
 word eternal is a sufficient reply. Compare Prop. 
 156. Schol. 1. 
 
 Angeloyr. p. 48. Whist. Theory, p. 9. Bull's 
 
 Ser. vol. ii. p. 447. Fawcett's 4th Dial, on 
 
 the other World.* 
 
 PROPOSITION CLIX. 
 To enumerate the chief properties of wichedangcls, 
 which are mentioned in Scripture. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTKATION. 
 
 1. That they are spirits of a very impious and 
 malignant character, and the inveterate enemies of 
 God and mankind, appears from the whole series of 
 Scriptures relating to them, particularly those enu- 
 merated above. 
 
 2. Nevertheless, that they retain some consider- 
 able traces of their former knowledge, appears from 
 2 Cor. ii. 11 ; xi. 3, 14. Eph. vi. 11. Rev. ii. 24. and 
 no doubt their skill in all the methods of deceit and 
 mischief must be vastly improved by so long ex- 
 perience. 
 
 3. They are likewise possessed of considerable 
 degrees of power, though still under a divine 
 restraint, Matt. iv. 5—8; xii. 23. Mark v. 4—13. 
 Eph. ii. 2; vi. 12. 
 
 4. It appears there are various orders of evil 
 angels, who are united under one head, from the 
 malignity of his nature called Satan and the Devil, 
 Matt. xii. 24; xxv. 41. Eph. ii. 2; vi. 12. Col. ii. 
 15. Rev. xii. 7. 
 
 Gilpin on Tempt, p. 19. Bulk. Gosp. Econ. iv. 2. 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There is great reason to adore the goodness of 
 God in setting such bounds to the operations of 
 these potent and malevolent spirits, as to prevent 
 their doing that mishief to which they are naturally 
 inclined, and which might otherwise soon turn the 
 earth into a chaos and field of blood. Compare 
 Job i. and ii. Matt. viii. 31. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 Seeing there is something in the thought of such 
 agents as these, which tends to impress the imagi- 
 nation in a very powerful manner, great care ought 
 to be taken that children, from the first notice they 
 have of the existence of such beings, be taught to 
 conceive of them as entirely under the control of 
 Walts's Catech. p. 109. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 We may infer, that they are most certainly mis- 
 
 " ^iS""."' ^''e^'*''"'"' ^.he nature and condition of angels, 
 we Bishop Newton's Worlts, vol. iii. p. 538—568. 
 
 taken, who maintain that all tlie texts relating to 
 the Devil are to be interpreted in so figurative a 
 sense as to signify merely the irregular propensities 
 of men's minds, denying the real existence of any 
 such malignant invisible beings as are commonly 
 supposed ; to which hypothesis the story of Christ's 
 temptation is alone an apparent and sufficient 
 answer ; not to mention the many texts, in which 
 opposition to Satan is represented as the great 
 design of Christ's appearance. Compare Wisd. ii. 
 ult. Dodd. Fam. Exp. vol. i. p. 211.t 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Bishop Sherlock thinks that the design of several 
 passages in the book of Job, is to assert the supe- 
 riority of God to Satan, the great principle of evil ; 
 and thus in particular he beautifully explains Job 
 xii. 16. and xxvi. 13. Compare the Septuayint. 
 TrpoTayiiari Se tBavartoat tpaxovTa arro^arriv. 
 
 Sherlock on Proph. p. 242. Warh. Occas. Rem. 
 p. 66. Patrick on Job, p. 88. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 As to the manner in which God cast the devils 
 out of Heaven, there is no express account of it in 
 Scripture. What is said in the preceding passage 
 of Daniel and the Revelations, of an opposition 
 between angels, particularly those of Michael and 
 the Dragon, — has led some to imagine that God 
 made use of the agency of good angels in expelling 
 the evil : but if he did so, we cannot imagine any 
 such resistance on the part of evil angels, as would 
 occasion any pain or terror to those who, on this 
 hypothesis, were the executioners of divine ven- 
 geance upon tbem. 
 
 Clarke's Posth. Serm. vol. i. p. 223. 
 
 LECTURE CCXII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLX. 
 To inquire how far yood angels are concerned in 
 human affairs. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. They are in the general the holy ministers of 
 
 ■* The literal history of our Lord's temptation, and the artuat 
 operation of Satan in that transaction, are maintained Ijy itisliop New. 
 ton, in his essay on llie l*nhj('rt. See his Works, vol. lii. p. !J2 — 11)4. 
 On the other Fiand, for exidieatiotts which exclnde the literal sense, 
 recourse may !«• had to Mr. Karuicr's Iiicjuiry into the Nature and 
 Desijin of Christ's Temptation in tlie VViUierness; to his Appendix to 
 tlu; Inquiry ; to Mr. Dixon's Sovereignty of the Divine Administration 
 vindicated; and to T>r. rieming's Christ's Temjilation in the Wilder- 
 ness, a Proof of a divine Mission; with a prevnuis Dissertation upon 
 tlie Prosopopeia, or personalizing tigure. In answer to Mr. Fanner was 
 piihlished a tract, entitled Christ's Temptations real Facts; or a Defence 
 of the Evangelic History; showing that the Lord's Temptations may 
 he fairly and reasonalily understood as a Narrative of what was really 
 transacted. Concerning the Anuels that sinned and the AiiKcIs that 
 kept not their first Estate, spoken of hy St I'eter and St. .Inde, Mr. 
 Ilenly has piihlished a Dis9<'rtation, in which he has endeavoured to 
 prove tliat these passages relate to an a|iostasy and rehellioii upon 
 earth, which was carried on hy the sdos of (!hiis, under their leader 
 Ninirod. There has lati-ly heen priiiteil a tract, hy Mr. Ashdowne, 
 entitled An Attempt to show that the ()[uiiioii concerning the Devil, 
 or Satan, as a fallen angel, and that he tempts men to sin, hath oo real 
 foundatioii in Scripture. 
 
606 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Divine Providcnfc witli regard to llie cliiUlreii of 
 men, Zeih. iv. 10; i. 10. (Compare Rev. v. 6.) 
 Dan. X. 13, 20; xi. 1. 1 Thess. iv. 16. 
 
 2. They are in a peculiar manner the {fuardians of 
 the saints ; and are not only the means of preserv- 
 ing: tliein from danger, but like« ise the instruments 
 of <-onferri!i<!: many blessings upon them. Heb. i. 
 1-1. Psal. xei. 11, 12; xxxiv. 7. to which add many 
 historical passages in the Old and New Testament. 
 See gr. 4, 5. 
 
 3. It seems that the care of angels over good 
 men extends beyond this mortal life, and that tlicy 
 are appointed to conduct their separate spirits to 
 tlicir scats of future glory. Luke xvi. 22. 
 
 4. They have often been made use of as the instru- 
 ments of indicting judgments upon wicked men. 
 Gen. xix. 11. Psal. Ixxviii. 49. (Compare Exod. 
 xii. 23.) 2 Sam. xxiv. 13 — 17. 2 Kings xix. 36. 
 Acts xii. 23. 
 
 5. Tlie Old Testament gives us an account of the 
 appearance of angels to Abraham, Lot, Jacob, 
 Moses, Gideon, Manoah, David, Elijah, Elisha, 
 Daniel, and other prophets. In the New Testament 
 we read of their appearance to Zachariah, Joseph, 
 Mary, to the shepherds, to Christ, to Mary Magdalen, 
 and the other women at Christ's sepulchre ; to Peter, 
 Paul, Cornelius, Jolin, &c. in most of which cases 
 they seem to have presented themselves and disap- 
 peared on a sudden : but the manner in whicli they 
 now interpose in human affairs is by an invisible 
 agency ; and perhaps much may be done by the 
 changes they produce in the weather, and by the im- 
 pressions they may be enabled to make on our nerves 
 and animal spirits, whcrc))y such thoughts may be 
 suggested, and such affections excited or moderated, 
 in the mind as may greatly promote the happiness of 
 good men, and subserve the schemes of Divine Pro- 
 vidence. 
 
 Burnet on Art, p. .32. Hallct on Script, vol. 
 ii. p. 258. Jennings's Abridg. of Mather's 
 Life, p. 105. Boijse on the Ministry of 
 Angels. 
 
 6. It seems to be intimated, that they are present 
 in Christian assemblies, 1 Cor. xi. 10. to which 
 some add 1 Tim. v. 21. Some also argue tliis from 
 the representation of angels in the ornaments of the 
 tabernacle and temple, Exod. xxvi. 31. 1 Kings vi. 
 23 — 26, 35. and from Eceles. v. 6. Compare Luke 
 XV. 10. and Eph. iii. 10. but this last text may much 
 more properly be understood of the observations 
 which angels make on God's dealing with thecliurch 
 in general, than on \\]iat they can be supposed to 
 learn from the discourses of those that officiate in 
 its public offices. 
 
 Mede on Eceles. p. 345. Tillot. Works, vol. ii. 
 p. 157. Doddr. and Giigse in Loc. 
 COKOI.LAIIY 1. 
 
 It hence appears that angels must have a very ex- 
 
 tensive knowledge of human afl'airs ; but we cannot 
 conclude tliat they arc capable of certainly discern- 
 ing our thoughts : it seems the peculiar prerogative 
 of God fully to know them. Nevertheless, angels 
 may, from external circumstances, and perhaps in 
 particular from the alteration of the countenance, 
 if not a view of what passes in the brain and animal 
 spirits, be able to form very probable conjectures. 
 Gilp. on Temp. p. 25. Goodw. Child of Light, 
 p. 65. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It appears, from comparing this proposition and 
 the 157th with several passages in Plato, Strabo, 
 Tully, Seneca, Plotinus, Maximus Tyrius, Hiero- 
 cles, .lamblicus, and Plutarch, besides some other 
 Heathen writers, chiefly of the Platonic sect after 
 Christ's time, that the Heathens had a notion of 
 the nature and offices of their inferior deities, very 
 nearly reseniljling the Jewish and Christian doctrine 
 of angels ; and indeed the name of angels, and even 
 of archangels, sometimes occurs in their writings ; 
 and it seems probable that the wiser part of their 
 philosophers, who believed the existence of one 
 supreme God, possessed of infinite perfections, made 
 themselves the easier in conforming to and en- 
 couraging the popular superstition, under an appre- 
 hension that, on the one hand, there were some 
 beings in nature and office something resembling 
 those whom the people worshipped, (though they 
 held their tales of them to be idle and vain,) and, 
 on the other, apprehending that it might be very 
 dangerous to the political interest of states to have 
 endeavoured entirely to change their religious 
 views ; from which the fate of Socrates, and the 
 sentence passed on Alcibiades, might also do much 
 to deter them, out of regard to their own personal 
 security. Compare Rom. i. 20, &c. 
 
 Cowper's Life of Socr. p. 166. Knoivl, of Div. 
 Things hy Rev. only, p. 239.* 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 Some have thought that not only every region, but 
 every man, has some particular angel assigned him 
 as a guardian, whose business it is generally to 
 watch over that country or person ; and, besides 
 general arguments from the passages quoted above, 
 in the second step of the preceding solution, they 
 especially urge Matt, xviii. 10. Acts xii. 15. but 
 the argument from both these places is evidently 
 precarious; and it seems difficult to reconcile the 
 supposition of such a continued attendance with 
 what is said of the stated residence of these angels 
 in Heaven, and with Heb. i. 14. where all the 
 angels are represented as ministering to the heirs 
 
 * See particularly Apiileius, in liis treatise (le Deo Socriitis. apud 
 Opera, I0S8, qiiarti), toin. ii. p. 07-1, 084, &r. and C9ft, Sec. wlicre he (Jives 
 a rlear antl meUiodlcal explication of Plato's doctrine of de.l.onn, or 
 rather of tlie then Platonic <loctrine of demons, their natnre and offices. 
 Apuleius assigns, as others have done, a demon to every man; which 
 demon Is in Vita ayenda Cuatos et Testis. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 507 
 
 of salvation ; though as there is great reason to 
 believe the number of heavenly spirits is vastly 
 superior to that of men upon earth, it is not im- 
 probable that they may, as it were, relieve each 
 other, and in their turns perform these condescend- 
 ing services to those whom the Lord of angels has 
 been pleased to redeem with his own blood ; but we 
 must confess that our knowledge of the laws and 
 orders of those celestial beings is very limited, and 
 consequently that it is the part of humility to avoid 
 dogmatical determinations on such heads as these. 
 Compare Col. ii. 8. 
 
 Pierce on Heh. p. 32. Reyn. on Anr/eh, p. 171. 
 Bull's Serrn. vol. ii. p. 492. Limb. Theol. 
 lib. ii. c. ii. Essay on Spir. Bp. Claytons 
 Vindic. of the Old Test, part iii. 
 
 LECTURE CCXIII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is questioned how far angels may be instru- 
 mental in working miracles ; and when they are so, 
 how far they may be said to work them by their own 
 natural power. That God used the ministration of 
 angels in several of the miracles wrought by Christ, 
 may perhaps be intimated (John i. 51.) ; but sup- 
 posing this, and also supposing that on these occa- 
 sions they only exerted a power equal to what was 
 naturally their own, these events would neverthe- 
 less be truly miraculous, because they acted out of 
 their own ordinary sphere, and interposed in cir- 
 cumstances in which God does not commonly 
 allow them to interpose. Prop. 90. § 3. 
 
 Gilpin OH Tempt, part i. c. v. § 34. Chandler 
 on 3Iir. p. 17. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Some have thought that angels may have some 
 concern in suggesting extraordinary dreams ; many 
 instances of which there are undoubtedly in Scrip- 
 ture (compare Matt. i. 20 ; ii. 13, 19.) ; and some 
 remarkable instances have occurred in latter ages, 
 mentioned by very credible authors ; among which 
 see 
 
 Wotton's Life, p. 10. Walton's Lives, p. 9.5. 
 Baxt. Immat. of the Soul, vol. ii. p. 47.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is likewise questioned. How far departed 
 saints may be employed in services to our world, 
 I like those which the angels perform, and how far 
 I they may be acquainted with the concerns of tiie 
 church here. Some suppose that acquaintance to 
 be very considerable, and argue from Rev. xix. 10 ; 
 
 * Some curious observations relative to the phenomena of dre.iminjj 
 will be found in Dr. Dugald Stewart's Elements of tlie I'hilosopliy of 
 the Human Mind, p. 320. See also tlie same work, p. 557. 
 
 xxii. 9 ; vi. 9, &c. To the two former texts it is 
 answered. That the words may be rendered, cj. d. 
 " I am thy fellow-servant, and the fellow-servant of 
 thy brethren ;" to the latter, that there is no inti- 
 mation that the spirits of the martyrs were particu- 
 larly acquainted with what then passed on earth, 
 but only that they were waiting for some singular 
 triumph of the divine vengeance over the enemies 
 of the church, not yet discovered to them. It may 
 indeed make it probable that some great events re- 
 lating to the church are revealed to them ; though 
 whether by immediate revelation from God, or the 
 report of angels conversant with our world, and the 
 spirits of the faithful more lately departed from it, 
 we do not certainly know ; however, it by no means 
 amounts to a proof of such a circumstantial know- 
 ledge as will warrant our address to them in prayer ; 
 against which Protestants have frequently urged 
 Isa. Ixiii. 16. though the context proves the argu- 
 ment from thence very inconclusive. It is enough 
 that there is no foundation for such addresses, 
 though it should be granted there is no particular 
 prohibition of them. 
 
 Bull's Serm. vol. ii. p. 4G0. Watts's Death and 
 Heaven, p. 142. Fawcett's Dialoyues. 
 PROPOSITION CLXI. 
 To enumerate the chief of those instances in 
 which evil spirits concern themselves with human 
 aflairs. 
 
 SOLUTION AND DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 1. Urged by a principle of enmity to God, and 
 envy and malice against mankind, they do their 
 utmost to seduce men into sin ; and for that pur- 
 pose are no doubt employed in studying men's tem- 
 pers, and making accurate ob.scrvations on the 
 various circumstances and occurrences of their 
 lives. 2 Cor. ii. 11 ; iv. 4 ; xi. 3, 14, 15. Eph. ii. 2; 
 vi. 11,12, 16. 1 Thess. iii.6. Matt. xiii. 19. 2Thess. 
 ii. 9, 10. 1 Pet. V. 8. Luke xxii. 31. (compare I 
 Chron. xxi. 1.) Zech. iii. 1,2. Acts v. 3. John xiii. 
 2, 27. (compare 1 The.ss. ii. 18.) 
 
 2. They are sometimes made use of as the instru- 
 ments of Divine Providence, to inllict calamities 
 on the children of men ; but all these their mali- 
 cious attempts are overruled by the superior wis- 
 dom and goodness of God, to answer the purposes 
 of his government. Luke xiii. 16. 1 Cor. v. 5. Job 
 i. 2. 1 Tim. i. 20. (to which some add Dan. x. 13. 
 20.) Heb. ii. 14, 1.5. 
 
 Howe's Works, vol. ii. p. 360. Shep. on Avyels, 
 p. 130, ficcf 
 
 3. They carry on their attempts on mankind in a 
 
 + Tlic doctrine of the agency of evil spirits is carried a Rreat way by 
 Mr. IJiirHli, in his Crito. His opinion is, that all the evil, botli natural 
 and moral, which prevails in the world, is tin' cti'i-ct of the hostility <jf 
 powerful, nialit;uant, spiritual beings; and that Christianity is the 
 deliverance of the human species from this pei uliar and advcniitiims 
 distress, as an enslaved nation is, by a palrinlic hero, deliveu'd Mom 
 tyranny. See Crito, or Kssays on various Subjects, vol. i. Iis.say the 
 third ; vol. ii. Essay the fourth. 
 
 I 
 
608 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 secret and invisible manner, somctliinp; correspond- 
 ent to tlr.it in wliieh good an^ds carry on their 
 purposes of benevolence and friendship. 
 
 Citp. on Temp. c. ix. 
 4. Nevertheless, they sometimes interpose in a 
 more open and apparent manner; or at least in 
 times jiast they have been i)erniitfcd to do ,so ; par- 
 ticularly in the instance of demoniacal possessions, 
 oracles, magic, witchcraft, and violent suJ^gesti()ns, 
 of w hich we shall more particularly speak in the 
 following scholia. 
 
 LECTURE CCXIV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It lias been an opinion generally received, Tliat 
 the Devil has sometimes entered info the bodies of 
 men, and afflicted them in a severe and dreadful 
 manner, by a supernatural agency upon them ; and 
 it is evident that many passages in the New Testa- 
 ment, taken in their most obvious sense, appear 
 greatly to favour such a notion ; but Mr. Joseph 
 Mede and Dr. Becker have long since pleaded that 
 these demoniacs were only lunatics or epileptics ; 
 and a learned author, generally agreed to be Dr. 
 Sykes, has lately revived the notion, in a discourse 
 entitled An Inquiry into the Demoniacs mentioned 
 in the New Testament ; which has occasioned a 
 great deal of debate ; and the late celebrated phy- 
 sician. Dr. Mead, has since declared himself on 
 that side of the question, in his late book on the 
 diseases mentioned in Scripture. It seems there- 
 fore not improper to give a brief review of the most 
 considerable arguments wliich are urged on both 
 sides the question. 
 
 vSi-CT. I. In defence of Mr. Mede's opinion, it is 
 observed and pleaded, 
 
 1. That the word (lemon, as used among the 
 ancients, properly signifies the soul of a dead person. 
 Now, it would be palpably absurd to suppose that 
 the departed spirits of wicked men arc permitted to 
 perfonn such operations as are pretended in this 
 case. It is granted that the word has sometimes 
 this signification ; but it is plain, and Mr. Mede 
 allows it, that it is not universally so, as was ob- 
 served above ; nor indeed is this by any means its 
 most common sense ; for though those whom the 
 Heathens worshipped wore dead men, yet their 
 worshippers did not generally acknowledge it, but 
 looked on the assertion as Atheism, or at least great 
 impiety. {Prop. 86. gr. 3. and Schol.) Vid. Cypr. 
 Op. p. 12. Ed. Fell. 
 
 Mede's Diatr. No. vi. Pegge's Exam, of Sykes's 
 Inquiry, p. 4. 
 
 2. That among the Heathens, lunacy and epilepsy 
 
 were ascribed to the operation of some demon upon 
 such patients, who therefore were called from thence 
 Cerriti and Larvati ; but it is answered. That the 
 question is. Whether the Heathens did not in the 
 general represent the matter as it really was, though 
 they might err as to the particular agent by whom 
 they might suppose such persons to be agitated ? 
 
 3. That it is not only probable, but certain, that 
 the Jews had the same notion ; for which the case 
 of Saul when melancholy is urged, and those known 
 passages from Jos. Ant. lib. viii. c. ii. § 5. and 
 Hell. Jud. lib. vii. c. vi. §3. Hudson's edit.; to 
 which are added Matt. xi. 18 ; xvii. 14, 15. John 
 vii. 20 ; viii. 48, 52 ; x. 20. where demoniacs and 
 lunatics seem synonymous terms. The same also is 
 urged from the account given of those said to be 
 demoniacs, wliose symptoms are the same with 
 lunacy and epilepsy ; but it is answered, That 
 where lunacy and being possessed with the Devil 
 are here mentioned as the same thing, it is perfectly 
 consistent with the notion that some peculiar kinds 
 of lunacy, and those on the whole the worst, were 
 the efl'ect of diabolical operation. 
 
 4. That it was by no means necessary for Christ 
 to change the usual language, and correct these 
 mistakes in philosophy, any more than those re- 
 lating to the Ptolemaic system in astronomy.* 
 
 5. The miracle of a cure by speaking a word, was 
 as really great and valuable in one case as in the 
 other. 
 
 6. That it is advantageous to the Christian cause 
 to interpret these histories thus, — because we can 
 give no account why there should have been more 
 demoniacs just in the age in which Christ lived, 
 than at any other time. Mede's Diatr. No. 8.t 
 
 Sect. II. In defence of the common notion, it is 
 answered and pleaded as follows : — 
 
 1. That the foundation of the contrary scheme, § 1. 
 gr. 1. is entirely precarious; as it is certain the 
 Heathens had a notion among them of evil spirits 
 distinct from human souls ; and if they had not, it 
 would be very unreasonable to make their notion 
 of demons the standard, by which to interpret the 
 sense of the word in the New Testament, especially 
 since the passages quoted from the Old Testament 
 make very good sense on the common interpreta- 
 tion. Compare the Greek translation of Deut. 
 xxxii. 17. Psal. xci. 6; xcvi. 5; cvi. 37. Lsa. xiii. 
 21 ; xxxiv. 14; Ixv. ll. See Pegge,ubi supra, ttnd 
 Trommii Lexic. in verb. D AIM ONI on. 
 
 «Soc p.irticularly on this head, Dr. Arthur Voung's Dissertation on 
 tlie («(is|)el Demoniacs. 
 
 + Two writers of eminence have more recently appe,ired on this side 
 of the (|iicstion. Tliese are Dr. Gardner and Mr. Farmer.— See Dr. 
 L.irdner's Case of tile Demoniacs mentioned in tlic New Testament, in 
 li>nr Discourses upon Mark v. 19. with an Apjiendix, Worlts, vol. i. |). 
 420. See also his Remarks upon Dr. Ward's Di.«serlations, ch. i. 
 Works, voK xi. p. 2fi9. Mr. Farmer has written yet more elaborately 
 on the subject, in his Essay on the Demoniacs of the New 'lestaincnl, 
 and in his letters to the Rev. Dr. Worlhin^ton in answer to his !ale 
 publication, entitled An impartial Inquiry into the Case of the (iosp^J 
 Demoniacs. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 609 
 
 2. It is plainly the doctrine of the New Testa- 
 ment, hinted at also in the Old, that there is a num- 
 ber of apostate spirits, who fell from Heaven, under 
 Satan their leader, who makes it his great busi- 
 ness, probably in concurrence with them, to do all 
 the mischief he can, both to the bodies and souls of 
 men. Vid. Prop. 157. ffr. 4. Prop. 159. and 161. 
 c/r. 1,2. 
 
 3. That the demons spoken of in Scripture as 
 possessing the bodies of men, are there represented 
 also as the associates of Satan ; and Christ's triumph 
 over the demons is continually represented as a 
 triumph over Satan. Matt. xii. 21—27. Luke x. 17, 
 18; xiii. 16. Acts x. 38. Jam. ii. 19. Rev. xii. 7, 
 9; xvi. 13, 14 ; xx. 2. 
 
 4. Such facts are recorded concerning the demons 
 mentioned in the New Testament, as could not pos- 
 sibly have been true on the contrary hypothesis ; 
 V. g. their owning Christ to be the Messiah, beseech- 
 ing him not to torment them, breaking chains, and 
 especially driving the swine into the sea, wliich 
 there is no reason to believe that two madmen would 
 have attempted, or could possibly have elTected. 
 
 Dodd. Fam. Exp. vol. i. ^ 70. p. 428. 
 
 5. The manner in which Christ speaks to them, 
 plainly sliows they were really demoniacs ; not only 
 rebuking them, (which indeed is also said of fevers 
 and winds,)hut calling them unclean spirits, asking 
 them questions, commanding them to come out, &c. 
 It is very mean and unwortliy to suppose him merely 
 to have humoured madmen in any case, and much 
 more in this ; and the answer, § 1. gr. 4. is by no 
 means suflicient, because this is supposed by those 
 on the other side the question to be a mischievous 
 notion ; yet it is plain his own apostles were sufler- 
 ed to continue in it, even after the descent of the 
 Spirit ; for they expressly assert the person in 
 question to have been actually and really possessed ; 
 nor can one imagine how they could assert this in 
 plainer and less ambiguous terms. 
 
 6. It is not allowed to have been so singular a 
 case as the objection supposes, considering the 
 account which has been given of possessions by 
 many er<!dil)lc persons, especially the writers of the 
 primitive church. See Prop. 114. Dem. yr. 5. and 
 Schol. 4. and the references there. 
 
 Wlti.st. on Demon. Hist. Surry Demon. 
 
 7. We can conjecture some probable reasons why 
 more frequent possessions might be permitted in 
 Christ's time than were known before or since ; 
 v.g.to punish the Jews, who were addicted so much 
 to magic (comp. Acts xix. 13, 18, 19.) ; to convince 
 men of the reality and malice of evil spirits, that 
 they might be alarmed at their danger, and .so pre- 
 pared for the Gospel; to illustrate the power of 
 Christ in his triumph over them ; and to give a 
 convincing specimen of his future complete victory. 
 Prop. 1.00. Cor. 3. 
 
 8. Nevertheless, were the cause utterly unknown 
 to us, it would not become us for that reason alone 
 to deny the fact. Who can say why Satan is per- 
 mitted to have so much power over men's souls, as 
 many of the forecited Scriptures do plainly ex- 
 press ? 
 
 Inq. into Script. Demon. Essay on Demon. 
 Twell's Examinat, and Defence.* 
 
 LECTURE CCXV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 We readily allow that there might be a great deal 
 of artifice in the oracles of the Heathens, so much 
 celebrated by their writers ; which appears from 
 the dubious language in which they were often 
 delivered, — from the instances in which clearer 
 predictions were contradicted by the event, — from 
 the apparatus made use of in consulting many of 
 them, whereby the imagination of the suppliant or 
 inquirer was greatly disordered,— and from the 
 servile flattery they used to princes and conquerors, 
 and the machinery and contrivance in some of the 
 scenes and images whence the oracular voice pro- 
 ceeded : concerning all which, consult Vandale on 
 all these subjects, or Fontenelle's elegant abridg- 
 ment of him ; and there is great reason to believe 
 that the ignorance or superstition of the populace 
 would make them an easy prey to artifices of this 
 kind. Nevertheless, considering how expressly 
 devils are said to have been worshipped by the 
 Gentiles, 1 Cor. x. 20, 21. and how supposablc it is 
 that many of them might, by their extraordinary 
 sagacity and experience, form probable conjectures 
 with regard to future events, and discern present 
 things at such a distance as they could not be 
 known by the inquirer; and likewise considering 
 the circumstances recorded by some credible his- 
 torians, for which none of the opposite particulars 
 recorded by Vandale can fully account, it seems 
 reasonable to believe that, in some of those oracles, 
 there was a supernatural interposition of evil spirits, 
 (compare Acts xvi. 16 — 18.) especially when we 
 comi)are what is said of demoniacal possessions 
 under the former scholium, and of mafjical opera- 
 tions under the next. 
 
 Biscoe at Boyle's Lect. vol. i. p. 294. 
 
 ♦ For aflditional piiblicalion^: in favour of the commonly received 
 doctrine of demoniacal possessions, recoiirwr niay l)c had to I)i . IMac- 
 kiiight's Essay, prefixed to his second edition of liis Ilarmrmy of the 
 Four Gospels; Hisliop Warbnrton's Sermons, vol. iii. N() 10; Dr. 
 Ward's Dissertations on several passages of the sacred Scriptures, vol. 
 i. N.I 2n, 21 ; Mr, Burgh's Crito, Essny iii. p. 2)0; Ilishop Newton's 
 Dissertation on the Demoniacs, in his Works, vol. iii. p. IG.J; ami Mr. 
 'I'honias Barker's Nature and rircuinstanres of the Demoniacs in the 
 (xospels, stated, mettiodtzed, and considered in the sever.il Particulars. 
 Ml'. Farmer's Kss;iy was attacked in three treatises. These were Dr. 
 Worthington's hiipartial Inrpitry into the C'.ise of the (lospel Demo- 
 niacij; the same. {gentleman's Further Inf|uiry ; and Mr. Fell's Demo, 
 tiracs; An Inquiry into the Heathen ajid the Scripture Doctrine of 
 Demons. 
 
510 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Yet we cannot, without stronger proof than can 
 be pretended, suppose that God would frequently 
 permit these interpositions to be apparently mira- 
 culous, considering how great a conlirniation tiiey 
 would give to idolatrous worship ; and it is \)lain, 
 in fact, that after Cliristianity appeared, they were 
 in very little credit ; and botii Tully and Plutarch 
 assure us that they began to decline before that 
 time. See Prop. 1 1.3. Sv/iol. 4, and tlie references 
 there. 
 
 Vantlale de Orac. Cicero dc Dlv. p. \S'2. Gilpin 
 on Tempt, p. 35. Farmer on Miracles. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Many have rejected all stories of muyical opera- 
 tions, performed by a combination with the in- 
 fernal spirits, or of diabolical appearances, as being 
 either the dreams of a disordered imagination, the 
 contrivance of art, or the vain fictions of those who 
 aimed at nothing but imposing on mankind. There 
 is great reason to believe this to have been most 
 frequently the ease ; yet it must be acknowledged, 
 that some stories of this kind come attended witli 
 evidence which it is difficult to answer ; particu- 
 larly the dying confession of some, said to have 
 been concerned in them ; and it is strange to observe 
 what an agreement there is in many circumstances, 
 among those who have believed and reported such 
 facts, where the scenes have been most distant, and 
 the persons in education and religion most different 
 from each other. It is however certain, that Satan 
 appeared in a visible form to Christ, and that he 
 animated the body of a serpent in tlie first tempta- 
 tion ; it is also exceedingly probable there was 
 some supernatural appearance to Saul, (1 Sam. 
 xxviii.) notwithstanding the solution which some 
 have endeavoured to find, in the supposed artifice 
 of throwiny the voice, which we can hardly suppose 
 to have been common to all the eyya'^ponvOoi. The 
 main objection ag-ainst the supposed reality of such 
 phenomena is, that being miraculous they would 
 establish the worship of the Devil, on the principles 
 laid down above ; but no proof can be brought tliat 
 such facts were ever done in attestation of a false- 
 hood ; the utmost they can be supposed to prove is, 
 that the devils are beings of great power and know- 
 ledge, not that they are the proper objects of our 
 worship, dependence, and obedience ; and it may 
 be added, that the purposes to which they seem to 
 have interposed have generally been so malignant, 
 as sufficiently to prove they are evil demons, and as 
 .such to be denounced and detested ; and such ap- 
 pearances, where f'hrislianity is known, should be 
 considered as confirming rather than weakening it ; 
 since the existence, power, and malice of Satan 
 make so great a part of the Christian scheme. 
 Where the Gospel is unknown, natural religion 
 might teach men that there is a Sovereign Almighty 
 
 lieing, of the most benevolent nature, and conse- 
 quently that these mischievous beings were to bo 
 detested as his enemies, whatever power they might 
 have ; from which he would not fail to protect those 
 that should faithfully serve him. Compare '2Thess. 
 ii. y— 1-2. 
 
 Ilutch, OH Witchc. Lc Clerc's Pneum. c. v, 
 Youny on Idol. vol. ii. Bcchher's World be- 
 witched, c. iii. Gland. Sadducis. Triumphant. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 The Scripture doctrine of Satan makes it pro- 
 bable that many of those horrible thoughts, which 
 sometimes come with an almost irresistible impetus 
 into the minds of pious persons, arc of diabolical 
 original; which is in some measure confirmed by 
 what has been observed of the subtilty with which 
 atheistical and sceptical argunients have sometimes 
 been presented to the mind, even beyond the 
 natural genius of the person assaulted by them. 
 
 Gilpin on Tempt. Burn. Spir. Life, p. 130. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 There is no greater evidence of the degeneracy 
 which a rational mind, even with great degrees of 
 sagacity and ability, is capable of, than the impla- 
 cable malice of those wicked spirits, and the obsti- 
 nate malignity with which they are opposing the 
 cause of God in the world, though they are sure 
 that opposition will end in their own confusion and 
 ruin. Dodd. Fam. Exp. vol. i. p. 115, 
 
 SCHOLU'M 6. 
 
 Those who professed magical arts, under the 
 various forms of them, were by the law of Moses 
 condemned to deatli (Exod. xxii. 18. Deut. xviii. 
 9 — 11.) ; and as idolatry was generally the founda- 
 tion of these professions, there were some reasons 
 for their being punished peculiar to the Jewish dis- 
 pensation ; and indeed it seems fit that in Christian 
 communities, persons making such pretensions 
 should be discouraged, since they have an evident 
 tendency to take off men's minds from a dependence 
 upon God, to indulge malignant passions, and at 
 best to fill them with vanity and superstition ; but 
 it may be questioned how far the professors of such 
 arts are to be punished by the magistrate. We al- 
 low that it is not his province to punish offences 
 against God as such (Prop. 77.) ; and consequently 
 a contract with Satan, considered merely in this 
 view, is not by human laws to be made penal ; but 
 if it lie proved that real mischief, either to tlie per- 
 sons or properties of men be done in consequence 
 of such a contract, the person who can be proved 
 to have done such mischief is certainly answerable 
 for it ; and if (which is generally the case) those 
 predictions arc only artifices to impose on simple 
 people, and get money from them, the idle preten- 
 ] ders are plainly a pest to society, and may as justly 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY, 
 
 511 
 
 be punished as those who keep gaming-houses, bro- 
 thels, &c. Vid. Prop. 50. Cor. 3. 
 
 Hutch, on Witchc. p. 147. 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 Certain vain eeremonies, which are commonly 
 called charms, and seem to have no efficacy at all 
 for producing the eflects proposed by them, are to 
 bo avoided ; seeing, if there be indeed any real effi- 
 cacy in them, it is generally probable they owe it to 
 some bad cause ; for one can hardly imagine that 
 God should permit good angels in any extraordi- 
 nary manner to interpose, or should immediately 
 exert his own miraculous power on trifling occa- 
 sions, and upon the performance of such idle tricks 
 as are generally made the condition of receiving 
 such benefits. More's Immort. of the Soul, c. xii. 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 Concerning the vanity of what is commonly called 
 Judicial Astrology Vid. More's Theol. p. 240. 
 
 LECTURE CCXVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLXII. 
 To inquire into what shall pass at the end of this 
 world, so far as Scripture gives us an account of it. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. The Lord .Jesus Christ shall descend with visi- 
 ble pomp and majesty, attended by the blessed 
 angels, who will probably be employed as the in- 
 struments of some loud and extraordinary sound, 
 called the trump of God, or voice of the archangel. 
 This appearance sliall be attended with the resur- 
 ■ rection of the dead. Matt. xxiv. .30, 31 ; xxv. 31, 
 32 ; xxvi. 64. John v. 28, 29. Acts iv. 2 ; xxiii. 6 ; 
 I xxiv. 15. 1 Cor. xv. 12, &c. 1 Thess. iv. 14—16. 
 I 2. In this resurrection, the bodies of the saints 
 I shall in a glorious though unknown manner, be 
 1 transformed into the resemblance of the glorilicd 
 body of Christ ; shall be raised above those miseries 
 and temptations to which, by virtue of their consti- 
 tution and situation, tliey are now exposed, and 
 rendered fit to serve the soul in all the entertain- 
 ments and employments of the heavenly state. 
 Matt. xiii. 43. 1 Cor. xv. 42—49. Phil. iii. 21. 
 
 3. Those saints who are found alive at this appear- 
 ance of Christ shall be caught up with those new- 
 raised to meet him ; and their bodies siiall undergo 
 a change correspondent to that of those who are 
 dead. I Cor. xv. .50— .54. 1 Thess. iv. 17. 
 
 4. All mankind, both good and bad, shall in a 
 solemn manner appear before Christ, that tlieir lives 
 and characters may undergo a strict examination, 
 in order to determine their final state. Acts xvii. 
 31. Rom. ii. 16. 2 Tim. iv. 1. 2 Cor. v. 10, ct sim. 
 
 5. The consequence of this judgment will be a 
 sentence of absolution to all the righteous, and con- 
 demnation to all the wicked ; (in which latter sen- 
 tence the evil angels shall also be included ;) and 
 this on each side will be succeeded by the imme- 
 diate execution of it, the righteous being received 
 into a state of complete and everlasting happiness, 
 and the wicked cast down to everlasting misery. 
 Matt. xxv. 31-— 46. Mark ix. 43 — 49. Rom. ii. 5—10. 
 2 Cor. iv. 17, 18. 2 Thess. i. 7—10. 2 Tim. iv. 8. 
 1 Pet. i. 4—7 ; iv. 13 ; v. 4. 1 John iii. 2. 
 
 Amory's Scrm. on the Last Judgment, 
 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 There is great reason to believe that the saints 
 will be made perfect in holiness ; without which we 
 cannot conceive how they could be completely 
 happy: and indeed the perfection of their character 
 in their final state is expressly asserted. Eph. v. 27. 
 Col. i. 22. Heb. xii. 23. Jude ver. 24. 
 
 Watts's Death and Heaven, Disc. ii. § 2, 
 
 COROILARY 2. 
 
 It plainly appears from the passages referred to 
 above, and especially yr. 5. that the complete hap- 
 piness of the saints is to commence from the resur- 
 rection ; as also the complete punishment of the 
 wicked : but how far there is reason to believe that 
 the one and the other are immediately after death 
 in a state of happiness or misery, far below what 
 they are then to receive, we shall incjuirc below, 
 Schol. 9. 
 
 Goodw. Worhs, vol. v. p. 90. FIcm. Christol, 
 vol. iii. Boyse's Four Last Things, vol. i, 
 p. 301. Limb. Theol. c. X. Bulk. Econ. of 
 the Gospel, p. 469. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 There are many passages in the Old Testament, 
 which either obscurely hint at the resurrection of the 
 body, or immediately refer to it ; v. g. Job xix. 23 — 
 27. Dan. xii. 2. to which many have aded Isa. xxv. 
 8; xxvi. 19. Hos. vi. 2; xiii. 14. Compare Ezek. 
 xxxvii. I — 14. To these texts Dr. Hodges has 
 added .several others, which he interprets as refer- 
 ring to the resurrection, particularly Job xiv, 14; 
 xxi. .30—32; xxix. 19, 20; xxx. 22, 23. But all 
 his efforts will only at best prove tlicse words may 
 be so rendered and exjjlained ; whereas they all 
 make very good sense upon the common interpret- 
 ation. See Hodges's Etihu, c. iv. pref. p. 212 — 214, 
 230—240. 
 
 Sherl. on Proph. p. 255. Birch's Life of Boyle. 
 Peters on Job. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Some have not oiily douI)fed whether these texts 
 express the resurrection of the body, but whether 
 there be any where in the Old Testament any refer- 
 ence to a future slate at all. The case, in a few 
 words, appears to be this : — The Mosaic covenant 
 
 I 
 
612 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 ronfaincd no promises directly relating- to a future 
 state : probably, as Dr. Warburton asserts and 
 argues at large, because Moses was secure of an 
 equnl Providence, and therefore needed not subsidi- 
 ary sanctions taken from a future state, without the 
 belief of M hieli the doctrine of a universal Provi- 
 dence cannot ordinarily be vindicated, nor the gene- 
 ral sanctions of religion secured : yet, as real piety 
 must in>])ly some vie«s to such a state, it seems 
 evident that good men, even before Moses, were 
 animated by them, (Ileb. xi. 13 — IG.) as lie himself 
 plainly was {ibid. 21 — 26.) ; and that the promises 
 of heavenly felicity were contained even in the 
 covenant made with Abraham (which the Mosaic 
 could not disannul) we have shown before. (See 
 Prop. \CA. § 1. (jr. 4.) Succeeding providences 
 also confirmed the natural arguments in its favour, 
 as every remarkable interposition would do. And 
 wlicn general promises were made to the obedient, 
 and an equal providence relating to the nation 
 established on national conformity to the Mosaic 
 institution, and not merely to the general precepts 
 of virtue (which must always make a nation happy) ; 
 as such an equal providence would necessarily in- 
 volve many of the best men in national ruin at a 
 time when, by preserving their integrity in the 
 midst of general apostasy, their virtue was most 
 conspicuous, — such good men in such a state would 
 have vast additional reasons for expecting future 
 rewards, beyond what could arise from principles 
 common to the rest of mankind ; so that we cannot 
 wonder that we find in the writings of the propliets 
 many strong expressions of such an expectation, 
 particularly Gen. xlix. 18. Psal. xvi. 9 — 11. (Com- 
 pare Acts ii. 25 — 31.) ; xvii. ult. xxiii. ult. xxxvi. 9 ; 
 xlix. 14, 15 ; Ixxiii. 17 -27. Prov. x. 2, 28 ; xi. 7 ; 
 xii. 28 ; xiv. 32; xv. 24 ; xxi. 16. Eccles. iii. 15, 
 16, 17, 21 ; vii. 12, 15 ; viii. 12—14; xi. 9 ; xii. 7, 
 13,14. Isa. iii. 10, 11. Ezek. xviii. 19— 21 ; to which 
 catalogue may be added the texts quoted above, 
 Schol. 1. The same thing may also be inferred 
 from the particular promises made to Daniel, Dan. 
 xii. 13. to Zcrubbabel, Hag. ii. 23. and to Joshua the 
 high priest, Zcch. iii. 7. as well as from those his- 
 torical facts recorded in the Old Testament ; of the 
 murder of Abel, the translation of Enoch and Elijah, 
 the death of Moses, the story of the Witch of Endor ; 
 and from what is said of the appearance of angels 
 to, and their converse with, good men. Vid. Prop. 
 149. <jr. 5. 
 
 Against this interpretation of the preceding texts 
 it is objected, That hrirujiny life and immnrtulity to 
 litjht was the peculiar glory of Christianity. Com- 
 pare 2 Tim. i. 10. with Dr. Ilndgcs's explication. 
 (Eli/iu, p. 252.) But waving this interpretation, 
 wc answer, 1. That many of the passages above are 
 ambiguous, though most reasonably explained of a 
 future state. 2. That in others there might be room 
 
 to doubt whether they express any thing more thao 
 the hope these good men in fact had, without deter- 
 mining that it was built on any express revelation. 
 
 3. That where there was an express message from 
 God, the consequence, as including a future state, 
 was to be inferred from comparing the inequalities 
 of present providences with that general declaration. 
 
 4. That no such passages contain a promise of linal, 
 everlasting, and immutable happiness, even to the 
 spirits of good men ; 5. Nor a resurrection to their 
 body : nor, 6. Does it at all affect any but the Jews; 
 so that when Christ in his own person, and that of 
 the apostles, declared a future state of endless hap- 
 piness or misery of the whole person, awaiting all 
 men, it may well be called bringing life and im- 
 moitality to light, when compared with any former 
 dispensation. 
 
 Lei. n(j. Morej. vol. i. p. 338. Warh. Div. Ley. 
 vol. ii. p. 553.* 
 
 scHoi.n'M 3. 
 Tliose who have thought that the resurrection of 
 the body n\ight be demonstrated, as at least pro- 
 bable, from natural principles, have pleaded, 
 
 1. That considering, on the one hand, the immor- 
 tality of the soul, and on the other, that the body 
 was originally designed to make up a part of the 
 man, it would seem improbable that one part should 
 be utterly destroyed, especially after so short a dura- 
 tion, shorter indeed than the period of many other 
 animal and vegetable bodies. But those that insist 
 upon this argument seem to have forgotten that the 
 sentence of death, introduced by sin, has changed 
 the original state ; not to insist upon it, that from 
 the light of nature we might perhaps apprehend the 
 union of our souls to these bodies a punishment. 
 
 2. Tliey plead that a more glorious display of the 
 divine justice will be consequent upon a resur- 
 rection than can otherwise be supposed. But it is 
 certain, the almighty power of God might without 
 this make it apparent to all human creatures, that 
 virtue was universally rewarded, and vice propor- 
 tionably punished ; and none can pretend to say 
 how far the honours of the divine judgment would 
 necessarily require a more public and sensible 
 triumph. 
 
 3. Many have urged the reasonableness of making 
 the body partake of rewards and punishments, as 
 it has partaken of duty or guilt. But it is only in 
 
 * Kisliop Warburton's opinion lias been attacked in various prniluc. 
 tions, among wliicli it may be sufficient to mention IVIr. Peter's Criti- 
 cal Dissertation on tlie Book of .lob, and Remarks on Dr. Warburton'i 
 Affoiint of the Sentiments of the early J4;ws conrerninj; the Sou!.' 
 \'ie\vs of tliiiifjs differetit froni those maintained by W'arbnrton arc 
 advanced Ijy l)r. Addin;;ton, in l)is Pissertatirjn on tlie HeIi;i;iou( 
 Knowledge of tlic ancient .Tews and Patriarclis; containimr an Inquirj, 
 into (lie Evidences of their IJelief and Expectation of a Future State 
 Tliis is tile case likewise with Dr. l.cland, in some parts of his works' 
 A zealous advocate for Dr. Warburton was fhc author of A free ant 
 
 candid Kxaniination of Ww. I'rincijiles advanced in the Bishop o 
 
 London's Sermons (Sherlock) — and in bis — Discourses on l*ropli6cy , 
 and of a Critical Inquiry into the 0|)inions and Praclice of the Ancien 
 Philosophers. These performances were written by the Rev. Mr. 
 Towiie. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 513 
 
 a figurative sense that it can be said to be the sub- 
 ject either of virtue or happiness. 
 
 4. The fathers commonly argued from the suc- 
 ceeding daily and yearly resurrection to be observed 
 in the natural world. This was indeed a very just 
 proof to the Heathens, with whom this controversy 
 chiefly lay, that a resurrection from the dead was 
 possible ; and the fabulous story of the phoenix was 
 as fine an illustration of it as can be imagined. Vid. 
 Solinits, cap. xxxiii. p. 63. with Salmasius's notes, 
 vol. i. p. 648, &c. But we cannot certainly infer 
 from thence that God will effect it: so that it seems 
 to be peculiar to a divine revelation to give con- 
 vincing evidence of the resurrection of the body. 
 Vid. Prop. 82. Sc/iol. 6. and the authors quoted 
 there. 
 
 Pears, on Creed, p. 375. Watts' s Death and 
 Heav. p. 228. 
 
 LECTURE CCXVII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 It is much debated, how far the body to be raised 
 will be the same with that laid in the grave ; and it 
 is a question of much greater difficulty than im- 
 portance. It may be observed, 
 
 1. That the raised body cannot be entirely the 
 same mass, i. c. cannot consist just of the same parti- 
 cles without cither addition or diminution. The 
 continual changes that pass in the body during life 
 would render this body of a monstrous size, if ail 
 those particles that had ever been vitally united to 
 it, i. V. had made a part of it while living, were then 
 ^ to be restored ; whicli yet might seem as necessary 
 as that just that number should be restored which 
 were laid in the grave : and besides this, the differ- 
 ent state of bodies laid in the grave, some vastly 
 overgrown, others much emaciated, others only of 
 infants, others maimed, ?. e. deprived of some of 
 their limbs and members, would occasion such a 
 diversity of size and forms at the resurrection, as 
 there is no reason at all to imagine, and it would be 
 insufl'erable to suppose. 
 ' 2. Some have imagined that there is some part of 
 the brain so exceedingly small as to be invisible, 
 which is in its own nature incorruptible ; and tiiat 
 the uniting this to the same soul to which it was 
 before united, will occasion an identity of the whole 
 1 man. But it is neither certain that there are any 
 ; such incorruptible particles ; nor can we see how 
 I the identity of these particles would make the 
 raised body the same that was laid in the dust. 
 
 3. Many have supposed that there may be some 
 stamina, which are the same in every distinct human 
 body from its birth to its death, only in different 
 
 ^ L 
 
 circumstances dilated by the fluids to uiiiercnt de- 
 grees, and that these are of such a nature, as never 
 to pass from being the stamina of one body to be- 
 come the stamina of another : which hypothesis, 
 though it be not entirely clear of its difficulties, yet 
 if it be allowed possible, will show the possibility 
 of giving to each what may properly be called his 
 own body, even when, as in the instance of canni- 
 bals, and no doubt in many others, the same par- 
 ticles at different times make a part of different 
 human bodies. 
 
 4. The Scripture speaks not merely (as Mr. Locke 
 maintains) of the resurrection of the dead, but also 
 of the resun-ection of the body, in such terms, as at 
 least strongly to intimate that it may properly be 
 called the same body which was laid in the grave, 
 on some material account, though the organization 
 of it shall no doubt be greatly changed, in such a 
 manner as is to us at present unknown, John v. 28. 
 Rev. XX. 13. 1 Cor. xv. 35 — 38, 42 — 44, 53. Phil, 
 iii. 21. to which we may without scruple add Rom. 
 viii. 11. 
 
 Move's Theol. p. 154. Keil on Blood, p. 20. 
 Witringh. Exility of the Body, p. 29. 
 Mackn. Gosp. Hist. p. 128. Locke on Rom. 
 viii. 11, &c. Watts's Phil. Essays.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 It is not possible for us to determine, how far the 
 language in which our Lord describes the judg- 
 ment-day (Matt. XXV. and elsewhere) may be lite- 
 ral, and how far figurative. There seems no reason 
 to believe that every individual word and action 
 shall be particularly examined in all its circum- 
 stances, witnesses heard, refuted, &c. ; for were 
 this to proceed according to the method of human 
 courts, it would make the judgment-day millions of 
 years longer than the whole period of the earth's 
 duration has been ; neither can we depend upon it 
 that those excuses will actually be made which are 
 represented. Matt. vii. 22 ; xxv. 24 and 44. No 
 doubt, every particular of men's conduct will be 
 weighed, in order to fix their character and their 
 state ; and the proceedings of that day will be at- 
 tended with such convictions of conscience, im- 
 pressed upon the unhappy creatures condemned in 
 it, as effectually to supersede such pleas, or any 
 other they could be supposed capable of making : 
 but it is probable this last expression, as well as 
 those of opening the books, (Rev. xix. 12.) are to be 
 taken figuratively. 
 
 * The ilnrtrinc of the resurrection of llie mmc body lias been ciillej 
 in question by three more recent writers. These are Dr. Sykes, in his 
 Incjuiry when tlie Resurrection of the Body, or Flesh, was first instrted 
 into the pnhhc Creeds; Mr. Alexander's prehminary dissertation to his 
 Paraphrase upon the fifteenth Ciiapter of the first Kpistle to the Co- 
 rrnlhians ; and Mr Cooner in his late volume of Kssays. In 172.\ Dr. 
 Henry Felton published a Sermon, entitled The Ke.surrection of the 
 same ijumerical iJody, and its Ke.union to the same Soul,— aeainst Mr. 
 Locke's Notion of Personality and Identity. It was so well thon^ht of 
 at the time, as to pass through three editions. Oil the other hand, 
 Ilishop Newton contends against the resurrection of the same Ijody. 
 See his Works, vol. iii. p. 876. 
 
 I 
 
614 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 S/itil. on Judy. c. iv. Youny's Set: vol. i. p. 
 320. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M (). 
 
 It is expressly said that evil spirits arc reserved 
 to the judg;ment of the great day, Jiide, ver. 6. 2 
 Pet. ii. 4. I Cor. vi. 3. in which there will be a 
 more apparent propriety, if Dr. Hunt's conjecture 
 conccrninj; the fall of the anf^els he true ; which is, 
 that those angels, before they fell, had in their for- 
 mer state some peculiar relation to our system, and 
 that they were in the nundn r of those who attended 
 the S/ii liina/i while Adam was in paradise ; but by 
 drawing oil, forsook their post, out of a principle of 
 rebellion against the Son of God, or of envy to man- 
 kind, whom they thought unworthy the guardian- 
 ship and attendance of such noble spirits. 
 
 Hunt's Ess. onvar. Dispens. ad Jin. 
 
 LECTURE CCXVIII. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 Many precarious conjectures have been formed 
 concerning the place in which good men shall dwell 
 after the resurrection. Some have thought it to be 
 beyond the starry firmament ; and some of the an- 
 cients imagined that their dwelling would be in the 
 SU71, from a mistaken interpretation of Psal. xix. 4. 
 which they rendered, as the Seventy and Vulgate, 
 He has set his tabernacle in the sun : but the nature 
 and appearcince of the sun, especially considering 
 the spots on his face, so easily expose the weakness 
 of this hypothesis, that it deserves no manner of 
 regard. Mr. Whiston supposes the air to be the 
 seat of the blessed, at present at least ; and 
 imagines that Christ is at the top of the atmo- 
 sphere ; and other souls nearer or more remote from 
 him, according to the degree of their moral purity ; 
 to which he imagines the specific gravity of tiieir 
 inseparable vehicles to be proportionable ; a scheme 
 so evidently precarious, that it seems hardly worth 
 while particularly to examine it. 
 
 Fawcctt's Dialoyues, p. 21, &c. 
 
 But Mr. Hallethas endeavoured to prove at large 
 that they dwell upon earth, when it shall be restored 
 to its paradisaical state ; and the substance of his 
 arguments is this : — Saints on their death go to 
 Heaven, (2 Cor. v. 8. Phil. i. 23 ; compared with 
 Acts iii. 21.) ; which place is likewise called Para- 
 dise, Luke xxiii. 43. 2 Cor. xii. 2, 4. but after the 
 resurrection there shall be a new earth, upon which 
 shall descend the New Jervsnlem, a city to be form- 
 ed in Heaven, and thence brought down and fixed 
 upon earth. Rev. xxi. xxii. compare 2 Pet. iii. 13. 
 and he supposes this is all that is intended by 
 such expressions as 1 Pet. i. 4. Heb. x. .34. John 
 
 xiv. 2. and he confidently asserts that Heaven docs 
 nowhere in Scripture signify a place where good 
 men shall dwell after the resurrection. He urges 
 that many singular advantages attend this hypo- 
 thesis ; V. y. it shows the reason why the body shall 
 be raised ; and it affords the best interpretation of 
 Matt. v. 3, &c. ; but as for those passages, Isa. Ixv. 
 17, &e. ; Ixvi. 22, &c. he apprehends that these arc 
 only allusions to the ai)ode of the saints after the 
 resurrection, but do immediately refer to the restora- 
 tion of the Jews to their own land, and its extra- 
 ordinary fruitfulness and pleasure ; which he sup- 
 poses by various strong figurative expressions to be 
 compared to the final abode of the blessed. Many 
 objections lie against this scheme, too obvious to 
 need a particular mention : the chief are these : — 
 
 1. One can hardly imagine any city upon earth 
 capable of containing the whole number of God's 
 people, especially considering the great triumph of 
 the Christian cause, to be expected in the latter 
 day, (of wliich see Prop. 112. Schol. 4.) the great 
 multiplication of the inhabitants of the earth, which 
 will probably be connected with it, and the pro- 
 bable reason there is to hope that all who die in 
 infancy, (which is at least one third of the whole 
 human species,) or at least all the deceased infants 
 of the righteous, may belong to the number of the 
 elect : and if this, or any thing like it, be the case, 
 it is proba))Ic that the whole face of the earth would 
 not be able, conveniently, if at all, to contain so 
 great a number ; and to say that the size of the earth 
 shall be increased, or the dimensions of the glorified 
 body contracted, would be so groundless and im- 
 probable a conjecture, that this ingenious writer, 
 widely as he suffers his thoughts to expatiate, has 
 not seen fit so much as to mention it. 
 
 2. It is diflTicult to conceive how the inhabitants 
 of such a fine city upon earth should by any means 
 be efjital to the aiiycls ; which yet Scripture declares 
 that they shall be. Luke xx. 30. 
 
 3. The notion of the perpetual day there to be en- 
 joyed, without the sun, seems very ill to suit the 
 apprehension of this our planet's being the seat of 
 that glory. Rev. xxi. 23—25. 
 
 4. With the thought of a perpetual abode on 
 earth, seem to be connected several other mean 
 ideas, which will by no means suit the exalted de- 
 scription given of the heavenly state: least of all, 
 therefore, can we imagine that Christ and the holy 
 angels are to have their perpetual abode here ; yet 
 it is expressly said, that saints are to be for ever 
 with the Lord, 1 Thess. iv. 17. that they shall be 
 cavyht up to meet him in the air, (which would be 
 very unnecessary and strange, if they were imme- 
 diately to descend to earth again,) and that he will 
 come to receive them to himself, that they may he 
 where he is, John xiv. 2. which, on this hypothesis, 
 must be a very improper expression. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 515 
 
 5. That the Scriptures, on which this hypothesis is 
 founded, are capable of another and very different 
 interpretation ; as will appear by consulting the most 
 celebrated commentators upon them, and particu- 
 larly Mr. Lowman, on those chapters of the Revela- 
 tions which are the main support of Mr. Hallet's 
 scheme. — On the whole, the place of the blessed is 
 a question of little importance ; and if we believe 
 the description of their happiness given in Scrip- 
 ture, we may cheerfully pursue and expect it, 
 though we cannot answer a multitude of curious 
 questions relating to the circumstantials of it. 
 
 Hallet on Scr. vol. i. p. 191. Enty ag. Hallet. 
 
 Watts's Death and Heaven. Broughton's 
 
 Prosvect of Futurity. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 There have also been various conjectures, equally 
 uncertain, concerning the place of the damned. The 
 ancients generally supposed it was a region of fire, 
 near the centre of the earth : others have supposed 
 it might be a comet, where the extremes of heat and 
 cold, in its access to, and recess from, the sun, would 
 be equally tormenting ; and they suppose the latter 
 to be signified by (ipvy/ioc odovruiv, Matt. xxii. 13. 
 which they would render the chattering of the teeth ; 
 but Matt. xiii. 4^3. sufficiently overthrows that criti- 
 cism. Mr. Swinden endeavours to prove at large 
 that Hell is seated in the sun, chiefly pleading that 
 this is the grand repository of fire, that its horrible 
 face when viewed by a telescope, suits the descrip- 
 tion given of the burning lake ; and that being in 
 the centre of the system, it might properly be said 
 that wicked men were cast down into it. How this 
 is reconcilable with what is said of its being outer 
 darkness, I think he has not attempted to show. It 
 seems a great objection against eacii of these hypo- 
 theses, that if either of them be admitted, we must 
 allow a vast number of Hells, if, as this author him- 
 self supposes, the fixed stars be suns ; and it seems 
 extremely improbable that, as soon as a system is 
 created, a scat of torment should be prepared for 
 its inhabitants. Others, by directly the counter- 
 part to Mr. Hallet's hypothesis, have imagined that 
 Earth would be the seat of the damned ; and tiiat 
 when left in the flames of the last conflagration, 
 wicked men would be cast down into it, supposing 
 some peculiar propriety that the place of their sin 
 should be that of their punishment : but it is some- 
 thing improbable this should be the everlasting fre 
 prepared for the Devil and his angels, Matt. xxv. 41. 
 On the whole, we must here likewise confess our 
 ignorance, and shall be much better employed in 
 studying how we may avoid this place of horror, 
 than in labouring to discover where it is. 
 
 Swind. on Hell. Dawes on Hell, ^i. ^A. Rcyn. 
 Ang. World. Prosp. of Futurity, Diss. iv. 
 
 2 L 2 
 
 LECTURE CCXIX. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 9. 
 
 Some have thought, that during the intermediate 
 state between death and the resurrection, the soul 
 shall be entirely insensible, which they suppose to be 
 the natural consequence of its separation from the 
 body. But the contrary seems to be evident with 
 regard to good men, from the following Scriptures : 
 Matt. xvii. 3. Luke xxiii. 42. 2 Cor. v. 6, 8. Phil. 
 
 i. 21, 23, 34. to which some add 1 Pet. iii. 19. Heb. 
 xii. 23. and with greater certainty Matt. x. 28. ; com- 
 pare also Acts vii. 59. John v. 24, et sim. Rom. viii. 
 
 10, 11, 38. 2 Cor. v. 1, 2 ; xii. 2, 3, 4. 1 Thess. iv. 
 14 ; V. 10. Rev. vi. 9, 10. 2 Pet. 1. 13, 14. And 
 that the Jews before Christ's time had this notion, 
 is at least probable from Wisdom ii. 2 — 4, 23, 24 ; 
 iii. 1 — 5 ; iv. 7 — 15 ; v. 14, 15. though it is certain, 
 that about the time of the Maccabees, a resur- 
 rection from the dead was expected, however they 
 came so confidently to embrace the persuasion of 
 it ; and the most considerable rewards of good 
 men, and punishment of sinners, were supposed to 
 commence from this grand period, 2 Mac. vii. 9 — 
 
 11, 14, 23, 29; xii. 43; xiv. 46. Judith xvi, 17. 
 And by a parity of reason, we may conclude the 
 like with regard to the icirhed ; compare Luke xvi. 
 22, 23. ; and it seems plain, as the human mind is 
 constituted, that the expectation of immediate 
 blessedness or misery, as soon as ever death has 
 done its office, increaseth those arguments for virtue 
 which are taken from the future state. The most 
 considerable arguments against this are brought 
 from Isa. xxxviii, 18. Psal. xxx. 9 ; cxv. 17. Eccles. 
 ix. 4 — 6. to which some have answered, 
 
 1. That the existence of the soul in a separate 
 state might be a truth unknown to the Old-Testa- 
 ment saints. But if we suppose it to be a truth, 
 and yet at the same time allow that in these passages 
 they declared the contrary, we evidently give up 
 the plenary inspiration of this part of Scripture :— 
 most therefore have chosen to reply, 
 
 2. That the texts quoted above relate to the in- 
 active state of the body in the grave, and the 
 removal of the soul from all intercourse with this 
 world, and all capacity of doing any thing for the 
 service of God here, which they were peculiarly 
 solicitous about. This reply may properly be made 
 with regard to the two first of the Scriptures quoted 
 above, and will appear of the greater weight, con- 
 sidering the distinguished character and circum- 
 stances of David and Hezekiah, (Herv. Med. vol. 
 
 ii. p. 26, 27. not.) and as for the passage in Eccle- 
 siastes, if the same reply be not admitted with 
 regard to that, it seems so directly to contradict the 
 doctrine of the immortality of the soul, that those 
 who believe that doctrine, and also believe the 
 
A16 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 plenary inspiiaf ion of Solomon, or even that he 
 believed and taught it, (as in this book he seems to 
 liave done,) must suppose it the speech of an epi- 
 curr, introduced by a sudden prosopopoeia ; which 
 if if be allowed, destroys the force of all objection 
 from it. Compare the texts quoted from Eeclesi- 
 astes, Scliol. 2. Dc Voeux on Ecclcs. p. 171. 
 
 3. As to that objection which is taken from such 
 passages of Scripture as refer to the general judg- 
 ment, as the time when good men enter on their 
 liappincss, and the wicked on their misery, (many 
 of which are quoted Prop. 1G2. ffr. 5.) see Cor. 2. 
 and the references there ; whence it will appear 
 that such Scriptures have an important sense, con- 
 sistent with what we have advanced liere for the 
 existence of our thinking powers in a separate 
 state. It may be further objected, that the apostle 
 says, " We shall receive according to what we have 
 done in the body ;" but on the supposition of the 
 soul's existing in a separate state, the time in which 
 many lived in the body will have been but a very 
 inconsiderable part of their whole duration, whereas 
 justice would require the whole to be regarded, 
 (compare 2 Cor. v. 10.) it is answered, God may 
 suspend our probaUon upon what time of our ex- 
 istence he pleases ; and that it is very snpposablc 
 that both good and bad men may after death go 
 into such a sort of state as may not suit probation, 
 but make a part either of reward or punishment ; 
 and whatever can be objected against this, would 
 affect the immensely greater part of our existence, 
 which those who deny the separate state must allow 
 to pass after the final sentence. 
 
 Haxl. Saints' Rest, e. x. Ditton on the Resur. 
 Watts's World to Come, vol. i. Bull's Works, 
 vol. i.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 10. 
 
 There is great reason to believe that the happi- 
 
 ♦ Tlie (|Uoslii>n concerning tlie separate existence of the soul, be- 
 tween death and tlie resurrection, has of late years been the object of 
 iiiiicli discussion. Against the opinion of such an existence, the princi- 
 pal writers arc Bishop Law, in tile Appendix to his Considerations on 
 the Theory of Keli;;ioii ; Or. Peckard, in his Ob.servations on the Doc. 
 trine of an Internie<liale State, and in his Further Observations on the 
 same Doctrine; Dr. Bciijamin Dawson, in his Remarks on Mr. Steffe's 
 Letter toncernint? the State of the Soul after Death, and in his Fur- 
 ther Remarks; Mr. Alexander, in liis Paraphrase upon the Fiftniitb 
 Chapter of tlie First Epistle to the Corintriians ; Archdeacon lilack- 
 Ijurne, in his Historical View of the Controversy concerninfj an Iiiter- 
 mediale State, and the separate Existence of the Soul, between Death 
 and the general Resurrection ; and an anonymous author in a tract, en. 
 titled No Proof in the Scriptures of an Intermediate State of Happiness 
 or Misery between Death and the Resurrection. This last tract came, 
 we apprehend, from the pen of Mr. Blackburne. On the other side of 
 (he question are, Bishop Warlnirton, in his Divine Legation of Moses ; 
 Mr. Towne, in his Free and Candid Examination of the Bishop of 
 London's Sermons; Dr. Goildard, in a Sermon, the title of which was 
 The Intermediate Stale of Happiness between Death and the Resur- 
 rection, proved from Scripture ; Mr. StefFe, in his Five Letler.s, No, 1, 
 2. and Ins Two Letters on the Intermediate State; Dr. Morton, in his 
 Queries addressed to the Rev. I>r. Law ; Dr. Fleming, in his Survey of 
 the Search after Souls; Archbishop Seeker, in his Lectures on the 
 ''atechism of the Church of England, Lecture the sixteenth ; and Mr 
 Brouglitf>n, in his Defence of the commonly received Doctrine of the 
 Human .Soul, a.s an immaterial and naturally immortal Principle in 
 Man, and his Prospect of Futurity, Dissertation the First. — A lar^e 
 account of the writings on this subject, from the beginning of the Pro- 
 te«,laiit Reformation to the present times, is given in Archdeacon Black- 
 burue's Historical View, 
 
 ness of the blessed does in some measure arise from 
 the converse of each other. Compare Heb. xii. 
 22. 1 Thess. ii. 19, 20. nor do those texts, which 
 speak of the favour of God as the final portion of 
 the blessed, (Psal. xvii. ult. Ixxiii. 25, 26. 1 Cor. 
 XV. 28.) at all interfere with this ; seeing God will 
 undoubtedly be owned and enjoyed in all those 
 holy entertainments which arise from the company 
 of angels and glorified saints : and the degree in 
 whicli he makes benevolent spirits upon earth use- 
 ful to each other, and the angels serviceable to 
 saints here, as well as the social nature of man, 
 gives additional weight to the argument taken from 
 the passages quoted above, and leaves no doubt 
 concerning the justice of the assertion. 
 
 Butl. Anal. Pi-ice's Four Diss. No. ill. 
 SCHOLIUM 11. 
 That there will be various degrees of future hap- 
 piness, according to men's various attainments in 
 virtue, and the different degrees of service here per- 
 formed, appears not only from the justice of God, 
 which seems evidently to require this, and from the 
 nature of things, which would in the same external 
 circumstances render the wisest and most virtuous 
 the happiest, — but likewise from express Scriptures, 
 such as Dan. xii. 3. Matt. x. 41, 42; xix. 28, 29. 
 Luke xix. 16 — 19. Rom. ii. 6. 1 Cor. iii. 8. 2 Cor. 
 V. 10 ; ix. 6. compare Gal. vi. 9. 1 Cor. iii. 14, 15. 
 to which wc may perhaps add 1 Cor. xv. 41. Matt. 
 V. 10—12. 2 Cor. iv. 17. To this it is objected, 
 
 1. That the rewards of the heavenly state are 
 represented as equal. Matt. xx. 7 — 10. It is an- 
 swered, That the parable refers to the calling of the 
 Gentiles into equal church privileges with the Jews, 
 else there would be no room to represent some as 
 murmuring against the rest, since such a temper is 
 plainly inconsistent with the character and happi- 
 ness of the blessed. It is objected, 
 
 2. That as all believers have a perfect righteous- 
 ness in Christ, the degree of glory, being the reward 
 of that alone, must be equal. 
 
 Ans. Though all are accepted for the sake of 
 Christ, and all equally justified from the guilt and 
 condemnation of sin through him, yet there may be 
 room for such a diversity of rewards as was men- 
 tioned above ; which being expressly asserted, no 
 conclusion from any hypothesis whatsoever ought to 
 be advanced in opposition to that doctrine. 
 
 The like diversity of degrees with regard to future 
 punisliment, may be inferred from a parity of reason, 
 and also from comparing Matt. x. 15 ; xi. 22. Luke 
 xii. 47, 48. 
 
 Limb. Tlteol. c. xiii. Watts's Death and Heav. 
 Mede's Diatribe on Matt. x. Boyse's Four 
 Last Things. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 517 
 
 LECTURE CCXX. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 12. 
 
 It may not be improper here to mention tbe doc- 
 trine of the Church of Rome, relating to Purgatory, 
 which is in short this : — That it is a fire where the 
 souls of good men remain in torment for a certain 
 time, whicli torments are in their degree equal to 
 those endured by the damned, till they have by these 
 sufl'erings satisfied for the guilt of venial sins they 
 had committed, or mortal sins of which they had 
 truly repented ; for the support of this strangely 
 incoherent doctrine, they chicfly.urge 1 Pet. iii. 19. 
 Matt. V. 25, 26 ; xii. 32. 1 Cor. iii. 10—15 ; xv. 29. 
 As for the arguments drawn from Zech. ix. 11. 
 Mai. iii. 2. Job xiv. 19 — 22. they are so trifling as 
 hardly to deserve mention. On the other side, the 
 Protestants plead Isa. Ivii. 2. Rev. xiv. 13. Luke 
 xvi. 22 ; xxiii. 43. 2 Cor. v. 8. For the fuller dis- 
 cussion of this point, see the notes in the Fam. 
 Expos, on the texts cited ; but we wave it here, and 
 content ourselves with observing the silence of 
 Scripture upon this head, which, had the doctrine 
 been true, must be very unaccountable, seeing so 
 important a part of charity would, upon the suppo- 
 sition of its truth, arise from thence, to which we 
 have no exhortation. It is also derogatory from the 
 doctrine of Christ's satisfaction ; and it has so great 
 a tendency to encourage men's hopes of finding 
 mercy, in consequence of something to be done for 
 them hereafter, when they arc in their graves, that 
 it ought by no means to be admitted upon such 
 shadows of proof as those laid down above ; espe- 
 cially when the Romish doctors teach, that one 
 mere act of attrition before death delivers a man 
 from mortal guilt, and sends him to purgatory, where 
 it is not possible he should lie any longer than the 
 resurrection, and from whence, if rich, he may be 
 very quickly freed by the prayers of survivors. 
 
 Burn, on Art. xxii. Earl ag. Popery, vol. ii. 
 Catholic Christian Instructed, p. 146. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 13. 
 
 With the doctrine of purgatory will fall that of 
 praying for the dead, which is chiefly founded upon 
 it, and for which the chief text the Papists plead 
 is 2 Maccab. xii. 40, &c. To which it is suOicicnt 
 to answer, that wc showed before. Prop. 124. that 
 no regard is to be paid to that book, as divinely 
 inspired. If Judas Maccabeus did indeed ofler 
 such a sacrifice, it was probably not to atone for 
 the dead, as the author foolishly concludes, but 
 rather to avert the wrath of God from the living, 
 lest, as in the case of Aclian, the rest of the people 
 should have suffered for the crimes of their bre- 
 thren. They also urge 2 Tim. i. 16—18. which yet 
 
 can have no weight, because it does not appear 
 that Onesiphorus was then dead. 
 
 Burn, on Art. c. 26. Limb. Theol. 
 
 That the commemoration of the dead, which pre- 
 vailed in the third century of Christianity, was not 
 praying for them, is very evident. Compare 
 
 Jurieu's Letters, No. ix. p. 188 — 196. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 14. 
 
 It is exceedingly difficult exactly to determine 
 what we are to understand by Christ's giving up the 
 kingdom to the Father, at the end of the world, of 
 wliich we read 1 Cor. xv. 24 — 28. Some have 
 thought that it means no more than Christ presenting 
 the church to the Father in complete glory, even 
 then acknowledging, by some public and solemn 
 declaration, his own subjection to the Father, and 
 derivation of the mediatorial kingdom from him ; 
 but as this does not appear a very natural inter- 
 pretation, others have said that Christ shall then 
 give up his commission, as a general does, when 
 that war is concluded, for the management of which 
 he has received it, and shall remain as one of his 
 brethren ; in which interpretation Witsius and 
 Crellius do strangely agree. Against this is ob- 
 jected. The perpetuity of Christ's kingdom, so often 
 declared ; or (if that be answered by the ambiguity 
 of the word made use of in declaring it) the glory 
 which must necessarily result to the human nature 
 of Christ, in consequence of its intimate and per- 
 sonal union with the Deity. On the whole, it seems 
 probable that some peculiar authority, which Christ 
 has received from the Father, of managing the 
 affairs of this world for the salvation of his redeem- 
 ed, will then be solemnly resigned, as the earth 
 itself will then pass away; so that there will, in 
 the nature of things, be no more room left for the 
 exercise of such a kind of authority ; and it will 
 evidently appear by the process of the great day, 
 that the destruction of the earth is not a calamity 
 coming upon it while under the Redeemer's care, 
 but a catastrophe to which he appoints it, as having 
 closed all that administration which he proposed at 
 first, when he undertook the management of it. 
 Nevertheless, it is reasonable to believe that he 
 will for ever remain as the glorified head both of 
 elect angels and men, (Eph. i. 10.) the latter being- 
 then received to the abode of the former, and in- 
 corporated into the same society, and united into 
 one kingdom with them, in such a manner as had 
 not before been known ; and that Christ will exer- 
 cise over the whole kingdom such a mild and gra- 
 cious government as suits the dignity of his nature, 
 and tlie greatness of those services which he has 
 performed for the Father; tiioiigh he shall not then 
 be the medium of their approach to and converse 
 with God in the same manner that he now is ; but 
 they, being by the resurrection fully delivered from 
 
618 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 all llie penal consequences of sin, shall have nearer 
 access to (Jod, and yet more intin\atc communion 
 with him than they ever before had, whether during 
 their sojourning here upon earth, or even during 
 the ahode of their separate spirits in the unseen 
 world. 
 
 Turret, vol. ii. Scott's Chris. Life, vol. iii. 
 Lardner's Sermons, vol. i. p. 106. 
 
 LECTURE CCXXI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLXIII. 
 To inquire into the most probable things which 
 are said to prove or disprove the eternity of Hell 
 torments. 
 
 SOLI'TION. 
 
 Sect. I. The arguments to prove them eternal 
 are cliiefly these : — 
 
 1. That the inlinite majesty of an offended God 
 adds a kind of infinite evil to sin, and therefore 
 exposes the sinner to an infinite punishment ; but 
 as the limited nature of the creature can only bear 
 a finite degree of miserj', in any finite duration 
 whatsoever, therefore it must extend to an inlinite 
 duration, and the creature must ever be paying a 
 debt, which he will never perfectly have discharg- 
 ed. — To this it is answered. That there cannot be 
 an infinite degree of evil in the punishment of a 
 finite being; but it is replied to this answer. That 
 the enormity of any action is in part to be estimated 
 by the dignity of the person against whom it is 
 conunitted, and the greatness of those obligations 
 which the offender lay under to him. On these 
 principles, in human judgments, actions, in other 
 respects the same, are punished in very different 
 degrees; and striking a prince is made capital, 
 whereas striking an equal might be sufficiently 
 punished by a small fine ; but it may be replied, 
 That the argument here is not from the dignity of the 
 person abstractedly considered, but from the interest 
 which the public has in the safety of the prince, 
 which could not be secured without this extraordi- 
 nary guard set upon it. — It is further objected to 
 this argument, That it would make all sins equal, 
 whereas both Scripture and reason prove that there 
 are diflerent degrees of guilt, proportionable to the 
 different circumstances attending them. Compare 
 Prop. 162. Sclwl. 11. To this it is answered, That 
 where the duration of punishment is equal, there 
 may be such a difference in the det/ree, as may be 
 correspondent to the degree of the crime ; and if this 
 answer be not allowed to be satisfactory, it will be 
 difiieult to say how the doctrine of different degrees 
 of eternal rewards can be vindicated, as consistent 
 with itself; yet this is allowed by all who urge the 
 
 objection, and is by all parity of reason to be sup- 
 posed in the very foundation of it. 
 
 Whitby's App. to 2 Thess. i. 
 
 2. That whatsoever reason requires a temporary 
 Hell, will also require an eternal one ; v. y. the 
 display of God's wisdom, holiness, justice, majesty, 
 and power, his regard to his injured Son and Spirit, 
 his violated law, and rejected Gospel, his abused 
 patience, slighted promises, despised threatenings, 
 &e.; the labours of his servants, the ministry of his 
 angels, and the impression it may make on the 
 inhabitants of happy worlds, to whom the punish- 
 ment of the damned may be an instructive spectacle. 
 It is replied. That all those ends might as well be 
 effected, by supposing a perpetual succession of 
 criminals delivered over to temporary punishment, 
 as by the eternal punishment of each individual ; 
 and that, even without this, the remembrance of what 
 guilty creatures had suffered might answer this end; 
 but it may be suggested, on the other hand, that if 
 we believe an eternity of future happiness, and that 
 the punishments of the damned will ever come to a 
 period, the time will come when the whole duration 
 of them will bear less proportion to the time iu 
 which happiness has been enjoyed, than a moment 
 to a thousand years ; and consequently, that the 
 whole series of punishment will be, as it were, an 
 evanescent thing, by which all the purposes above 
 mentioned will seem to cease. It is further alleged, 
 That if this argument will prove any thing, it will 
 prove that every offence which is punished at all, 
 must be punished to the utmost, even of almighty 
 power, since it seems that the greater as well as 
 longer the punishment is, the more ellectual must 
 it answer these ends. On the contrary, may not 
 some good end possibly be answered by the cessation 
 or mitigation of punishment, as well as by its con- 
 tinuance ? — and if our conjectures were to take 
 place here, might it not redound to the glory of 
 Christ, if for bis sake the punishment of the damned 
 were to be brought to a period, even though it 
 might have been consistent with the divine justice 
 to continue it longer, and even to continue it for 
 ever? Reyn. Angelic World, p. 301. 
 
 3. It is urged, That the government of the world 
 will require God to threaten eternal misery, — since 
 nothing less than the apprehension of that will keep 
 men from the violation of his laws, as appears in 
 fact ; and if eternal punishments are once threat- 
 ened, the justice, truth, and wisdom of God will 
 require that they be actually inflicted, correspond- 
 cntly to that threatening. The latter part of the 
 argument will be considered under the next head ; to 
 the former it is replied, 1. That if the apprehension 
 of punishment not eternal does not deter men from 
 sin, the only reason is, because it is not sufficiently 
 attended to ; so that the fault lies upon men's in- 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 519 
 
 consideration, and not on any deficiency in the 
 sanctions of the divine law, provided the punish- 
 ment be greater than any pleasure or advantage to 
 be derived from the sin forbidden under that 
 penalty. 2. It is plain, in fact, the threatening of 
 eternal punishment does not prevent sin, which 
 seems in a great measure to overthrow the founda- 
 tion of this argument ; if it be said, It does a great 
 deal more towards it than could otherwise have 
 been done, — it is answered, 3. That eternal punish- 
 ments, inllicted by perfect wisdom and complete 
 rectitude, seem so incredible, that the threatening 
 is on that very account disregarded ; but this answer 
 seems false in fact ; since the generality of wicked 
 Christians profess to believe the eternity of them, 
 and build their hopes and false quiet, not on the 
 prospect of seeing the period of them after some far 
 distant revolution of ages, but on some general no- 
 tion of the divine mercy, and some scheme which 
 they form of escaping them, either by a death-bed 
 repentance, or by some religious hypothesis, whicli 
 substitutes something else instead of a truly pious 
 and holy temper, in such a manner as to supersede 
 it; and further, if it afterwards appear that God has 
 I threatened eternal punishments, such an answer as 
 this is in effect a bold reflection upon his wisdom, as 
 if he did not understand the constitution of human 
 nature, and so, like some weak and angry men, had 
 bent the bow till it broke. The most solid answer 
 to all the preceding arguments is. That we cannot 
 I pretend to decide « priori in this question, so far as 
 ■ to say that the punishments of Hell must and will 
 certainly be eternal ; but if it afterwards appear 
 I that the Scriptures declare they shall be so, these 
 , considerations may serve to balance the difficulties 
 I urged on the other side of the question, from prin- 
 ciples of the light of nature ; and indeed, on the 
 whole, it seems that it can only be determined by 
 divine revelation. Baxt. Works, vol. ii. p. CO. 
 
 LECTURE CCXXII. 
 
 4. The Scripture has expressly declared, in a 
 variety of the most significant phrases, that the tor- 
 ments of Hell sliall be eternal. Matt, xviii. 8 ; 
 XXV. 41,46. Mark ix. 4.3 — 4{>. 2 Thess. i. 9. Judc 
 ver. 1.3. liev. xiv. 11 ; xx. 10. To this it is replied, 
 1. That it is not certain that the word rendered 
 
 i eternal, everlasting, &c. is to be taken in its utmost 
 extent ; it often signifies no more than a very lotnj 
 time, or a time whose precise boundary is to us un- 
 
 I known. Prop. 156. Scliol. 1. It is answered. That 
 the same language is used, and that sometimes in 
 the very same place, to express the eternal happi- 
 ness of the righteous, and the eternal misery of the 
 
 wicked ; and that there is no reason to believe, 
 especially where it stands in so close a connexion, 
 that it should express two such different ideas; and 
 moreover, that the texts produced on this account 
 in the scholium referred to above, are taken from 
 the Old Testament; for as to that, Jude ver. 7. it 
 may refer to ^future punishment ; and the expres- 
 sion tie T«c aiii)vaQ Tti)v aidiviov, as used Rev. xx. 10. 
 is so strong, that if it does not express a proper 
 eternity, it w'ill be difficult to produce any Scripture 
 that does ; nor can any instance be produced of its 
 being put for a Jinite and limited duration. Com- 
 pare Psal. cxxxii. 14 ; Ixxii. 17. which is an in- 
 stance that of all others comes nearest to it. Vid. 
 Tromtnii Concord. Grcec. ad verb, aitov et deriv. 2. It 
 is pleaded. That, granting eternal punishments are 
 threatened, it does not follow that they must be exe- 
 cuted, since the faithfulness of God will allow him 
 to dispense with his tlireatenings, though not with 
 his promises, as particularly in the case of Nineveh. 
 It is replied. That where God has not only forbidden 
 any sinful action on such a penalty, but has ex- 
 pressly declared that he will execute that penalty, 
 and that he will not suspend the execution of it on 
 any condition, — though we could not say his faith- 
 fulness would be impeached by acting in a different 
 manner, yet it would be hard to vindicate his vera- 
 citij, especially since he must know, even when he 
 published the threatening, that it could not be exe- 
 cuted without the greatest injury ofl'ered to the 
 moral perfections of his nature. It also seems in- 
 consistent with his wisdom to have pronounced such 
 threatenings as these, and yet to have given man- 
 kind reason to believe that he will not and cannot 
 execute them, which this objection supposes he has 
 given ; for a threatening, which the person threat- 
 ened knows another cannot fulfil, is the vainest and 
 most contemptible thing one can imagine ; and it is 
 here particularly worth observing, that Matt. xxv. 
 41 — 46, is such a prediction of a future and most 
 solemn fact, as cannot with any decency be sus- 
 pected, and yet cannot on this hypothesis be 
 accounted for. Compare Prop. 79. Schol. 
 
 Dawes on Hell. VVatts's World to come. Mac- 
 kniyht's Gospel History. 
 
 Sect. II. The chief arguments against this doc- 
 trine are these : — 
 
 Arg. I. That it is inconsistent with justice of 
 the Divine Being, to inflict eternal punishment for 
 offences committed in so short a space of time. It 
 is answered, 
 
 1. That God gives us our choice ; and his pro- 
 posing to us eternal happiness on the one hand, is 
 an equivalent for inflicting eternal misery on the 
 other ; but this seems to be taking the (|ucstion for 
 granted, rather than proving the justice of this ap- 
 pointment. 
 
 2. That, considering the infinite majesty and 
 
 I 
 I 
 
520 
 
 A COURSE OP LECTURES 
 
 glory of God, none ran say how lonf; lie may con- 
 tinue to punish a creature who has wilfully violated 
 his laws ; and that our feeble understandings are 
 incapable of judging concerning the rights of the 
 divine government in such a point; but it is said, 
 that the former part of this reply may be admitted, 
 and yet the eternity of these punishments denied ; 
 ?. e. we may conclude they will come to a period, 
 though none can say when ; and that the latter part 
 is not answering tiie difticulty, but aeknovvledgiiig 
 it to be unansw erable. It is replied, That it is only 
 denying the pretended axiom, " That eternal 
 punishments must be unjust," to be a self-evident 
 proposition ; and it should further be considered, 
 that in order to determine the proportion between 
 the punishment and the offence, it is of great im- 
 portance that the consequence of crimes be taken 
 into the estimate we make of their guilt. 
 
 Bourns Ser. Jenh. on Chris, vol. ii. c. 14. 
 
 3. That if there be an obstinately sinful temper 
 remaining, men may, by new guilt, be forever ex- 
 posing themselves to new punishment ; but it is 
 answered, 1. That upon this hypothesis, if granted, 
 the eternal punishment of the damned could not 
 properly be said to be inflicted upon them for sins 
 done in the body ; since the time will come when 
 the punishments inflicted for such sins (let them be 
 supposed to endure ten millions of years) will be 
 less, when compared with the duration of the 
 punishments inflicted for their after obstinacy and 
 rebellion, than a moment is to all those years. This 
 supposes the damned in a kind of probationary 
 state; and it is hard to conceive how it should be 
 possible for them to contract guilt by obstinacy and 
 impenitcncy, if there were not a possibility of their 
 repentance, and some room to obtain mercy upon 
 that repentance, which is not allowed on this hy- 
 pothesis. 
 
 4. It is further urged, in answer to this objection 
 from the divine justice, That the perpetuity of the 
 future misery of the damned is the necessary result 
 of the constitution of things, in consequence of 
 which human souls are naturally immortal, and 
 vicious habits, after they have taken a certain de- 
 gree of rooting in the mind, become incurable ; so 
 that nothing can prevent the eternal misery of an 
 impenitent sinner hut a miraculous interposition of 
 God's divine power, either to change his character, 
 or destroy his existence, which there is no reason 
 to expect : and this obviates the last reply, as it 
 supposes the mor^l state of agency to be ended 
 when that of final punishment begins. To this it 
 may be replied, 1. That this constitution is owing 
 to a divine appointment ; and that as the perpetual 
 agency of God is required to support the soul, so 
 likewise to form those painful impressions of mind, 
 which arise from the exercise of conscious reflection 
 and tormenting passions ; just as there is the uni- 
 
 form agency of Providence in that gravitation and 
 animal sensation by which a particle of gravel 
 wounds and tortures the ureters, or other canals of 
 the body, in passing through them ; so that if it had 
 been unjust for God to make a sinner for ever un- 
 happy, he could not have chosen and appointed 
 such a constitution. 2. That the Scripture doctrine 
 asserts a state of corporeal punishment, which must 
 imply something external, and cannot be solved by 
 any observations made on the constitution of the 
 human mind, in comparison with the irregularity 
 of the passions, and final exclusion from all happi- 
 ness ; so that none can have a right to urge this 
 plea but those who admit the hypothesis of Dr. 
 Whitby, which is mentioned in the second scholium 
 below. To which it might be added, 3. That as 
 God can with infinite ease annihilate any spirit, it 
 will remain a question why he makes all souls im- 
 mortal, when the eternal misery of many must be 
 the consequence, and does not rather universally 
 determine to annihilate, when existence is more 
 grievous than non-existence, and when he knew 
 vice to be naturally incurable. 
 
 Horherrij on Fut. Pun. c. iii. 
 Arg. II. It is said to be inconsistent with the 
 goodness and mercy of God to make so many crea- 
 tures, who he knew would be eternally miserable; 
 and to leave them in such circumstances as those in 
 which it is plain they are left, if all who die im- 
 penitent pass into everlasting torment. To this it 
 is answered, 
 
 1. That, as we have endeavoured to show above, 
 God has given them sufficient means for their ever- 
 lasting happiness, so that their misery is to be 
 charged not upon him but upon themselves. 
 
 2. That God is to be considered under the charac- 
 ter of a Moral Governor, and therefore, in order to 
 approve his goodness, he must consult, not so much 
 the happiness of any particular person, as what may 
 upon the whole be for the benefit of all that moral 
 kingdom over which he presides, and may at the 
 same time suit the majesty and honour of his govern- 
 ment. Now, for any thing we certainly know, the 
 everlasting misery of some sinful creatures may be 
 the most effectual means of answering these ends, 
 in harmony with each other. 
 
 3. That we are not, on the whole, to judge of the 
 triumph of divine bounty and mercy, merely by 
 what we see on earth, or the state in which the in- 
 habitants of it are left, any more than we are to 
 judge of the magnificence, bounty, and clemency, 
 of a prince, by seeing the manner in which the in- 
 habitants of a rebellious city are treated. For any 
 thing we certainly know, the number of wicked and 
 miserable may bear a smaller proportion to that of 
 holy and happy creatures, than a grain of sand does 
 to the whole body of the sun. 
 
 Ary, III. It is further objected. That how minute 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 521 
 
 soever our rank, number, or figure, in the creation 
 may be, that if God intended man for happiness, as 
 lie certainly did in the original constitution of his 
 nature, it would be inconsistent with his wisdom to 
 suffer his main end to be frustrated, in the eternal 
 misery of the greater part of the species. It is 
 answered, 
 
 1. That we do not know that the greater part of 
 mankind are eternally miserable : perhaps all in- 
 fants may be saved, and such universal virtue may 
 hereafter prevail, for succeeding, and those very 
 long-lived and fruitful generations, as shall turn the 
 balance of number, even among the adult, on the 
 side of religion and happiness. 
 
 2. That it may be much questioned, whether it is 
 proper to say that the ultimate end of God in the 
 creation of man, was the final happiness of the 
 greater part of the species. This principle must 
 prove every individual person to be intended for it, 
 or it proves nothing ; for the human species may be 
 no more in the works of God, than an individual to 
 the whole human race ; yet it is most apparent in fact, 
 that all are not, and consequently that God did not 
 intend the happiness of each, as his final end, in 
 the creation of each, unless we will grant that end 
 to be disappointed ; so that it seems much safer to 
 say that he intended to put all into such a state, 
 that nothing but their own abuse of their liberty 
 should prevent their happiness, than that all, or 
 even the greater part, should eventually obtain it. 
 
 Limb. Tlieol. c. xiii. T. Burn, de Stat. Mort. 
 Dawes's Hell Torm. Wliist, on Hell Toi-m.* 
 
 LECTURE CCXXIII. 
 
 1 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 I It must be acknowledged, on the review of these 
 arguments, that there is at least so much force in 
 those urged on the aHirmative side of the question, 
 and in the solution given to preceding objections, 
 as to render it both imprudent and unsafe to 
 go out of the way of Scripture on this head ; or to 
 explain those expressions in such a manner as posi- 
 tively to determine that future eternal punishments, 
 in strict propriety of speech, are not to be appre- 
 hended. It is plain the chief hazard lies in repre- 
 senting the state of the damned less miserable than 
 
 * A middle scheme is apprehended by some divines to be most con. 
 sonant to Scripture i wliich is, not that the wiclied shall be for ever 
 miserable, or finally saved, hut that, after passing thronRh an awfnl 
 jud;^men(, and a condemnation proportioned to their crimes, they shall 
 he punished with an utter extinction of bciu({. This scheme is main- 
 tained by Mr, Samuel Bourn, in tlie last sermon of the first volume of 
 his Discourses on the Principlesand Evidencesof Natural Religion and 
 the Christian Revelation ; and in his I,elter to the Reverend Samuel 
 Chandler, I). T), concerning the Christian Doctrine of Future Punish- 
 ment. The same scheme has recently been supported, in a very clabn. 
 rate manner, by Mr. Clark, in a publication entitled A Vindication of 
 the Honour of God, in a Scrijitural Refutation of the Doctrines of 
 Eternal Misery aod UDiversai Salvation. 
 
 it may in fact prove to be ; and we must have very 
 low notions of Scripture, if we do not think fit to 
 follow it in this aflTair. 
 
 Lucas on Happiness, vol. ii. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 From the doctrine of the eternity of future 
 punishments, compared with all those glorious de- 
 monstrations of the divine holiness and goodness 
 which are contained in Scripture, especially when 
 taken in comparison with all the solemn protesta- 
 tions with which God charges the misery of sinners 
 upon themselves, (see Prop. 139. Schol. 4.) we may 
 infer a very convincing additional argument in 
 favour of Prop. 16. i. e. the natural liberty of the 
 will, beyond what the light of nature will afford 
 (see ibid. Schol. 7.) ; — for that such a Being, who is 
 said 7iot to tempt any one, and even swears that he de- 
 sires not the death of a sinner, should irresistibly 
 determine millions to the commission of every sin- 
 ful action of their lives, and then with all the pomp 
 and pageantry of a universal judgment condemn 
 them to eternal misery, on account of those actions, 
 that hereby he may promote the happiness of others, 
 who are or shall be irresistibly determined to virtue 
 in the like manner, is of all incredible things to me 
 tlie most incredible. Hence most who have held 
 the doctrine of necessity, have denied the eternity 
 of future misery ; but in proportion to the degree of 
 its duration and extremity, the objection will still 
 be cogent. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 1. 
 
 It has been debated. Whether there be properly 
 material Jire in Hell. The chief arguments on each 
 side are these : — In proof of the affirmative it is 
 said, 
 
 1. That fire and brimstone are represented as the 
 ingredients of their torment, and that the smohc of 
 them is said continually to go up, Kev. xiv. 10, 11 ; 
 XX. 10. It is answered. That fire in this place may 
 only signify the rayiuy desire, or any other violent 
 agony of the mind ; and that there is no more 
 reason to interpret it of material fire, than there is 
 to understand an animal ever living in that flame, 
 by the worm that never dies, which, nevertheless, 
 most expositors who believe a material fire, under- 
 stand of the stings and reproaches of conscience. 
 It is probable tlic phrases used by Christ, particu- 
 larly Matt, ix.43 — 49. may allude to Isa. Ixvi. ult. 
 which may innnediatcly express the terrible 
 slaughter made on the enemies of God's people in 
 the latter day, our Lord intending by this allusion 
 to assert, that the punishment of the wicked in Hell 
 should be infinitely more dreadful. Compare 
 Judith xvi. 17. Eccles. vii. 17. 
 
 Drieherg de Statu Horn. fat. p. 167. 
 
 2. That as tlic body is to be raised, and the whole 
 man to be condemned, it is reasonable to believe 
 
522 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 Ihcro will be some corporeal punishment provided, 
 and tbeieiore probably material fire. Some have 
 answered. That God can give a most acute sense of 
 pain, without any external apparatus for that pur- 
 pose, and tliat a perpetual fever miglit render an 
 imbodiod spirit as exquisitely miserable as any 
 external fire could do. 
 
 Against the supposition of such a fire, it is urged, 
 
 1. That tlie body would quickly be consumed l)y 
 it : but it is obvious to answer, that God might give 
 it such a degree of fixedness and solidity, or might 
 in the course of nature provide such recruits, as 
 should prevent its dissolution. Compare Mark ix. 
 49. Fam. Expos. inLoc. 
 
 2. That the fire into which the damned are sent, 
 is said to have been prepared for the Devil mid his 
 angels, who cannot be subject to the action of ma- 
 terial fire : but this goes upon the supposition of 
 their being so entirely incorporeal, as to be united 
 to no nmterial vehicle ; which is a supposition that 
 none can prove. Prop. 158. Schol. 2. 
 
 3. That a material fire would be inconsistent 
 with tliat da7-k7iess which is said to attend tlie in- 
 fernal prison. It is answered, Tliat darkness might 
 be metaphorical, or might refer to that feast, from 
 which sinners are supposed to be excluded, (com- 
 pare Matt. xxii. 13 ; xxv. 30.) and the gloomy hor- 
 ror and despair whicli shall surround them ; nor 
 could the terrible glare of such supposed flames be 
 properly expressed by what is so amiable to the eye 
 as light. 
 
 On the whole, it is of very little importance 
 M'hetiier wc say there is an external fire, or only an 
 idea of such pain as arises from burning : and 
 .should we think both doubtful, it is certain God 
 can give the mind a sense of agony and distress, 
 which, though it be not analogous to any of those 
 perceptions whicli the nerves convey from external 
 objects now surrounding us, should answer and 
 even exceed the terror of those descriptions we 
 have now been examining : and care sliould cer- 
 tainly be taken to explain Scri[>ture metaphors, so 
 as that Hell may be considered as consisting more 
 of mental agony than bodily tortures. 
 
 Dawes on Hell, p. 13. Swind. on Hell, c. iv. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Dr. Whitby thinks that the bodies of the damned, 
 after the resurrection, shall be cast into a burning 
 lake, where they will all at length be utterly con- 
 sumed, though prol)ably by slower degrees than 
 such bodies as ours would be, on account of some 
 alteration to be made in their contexture when 
 raised from the dead. The separation of the soul 
 from the body, occasioned by this terrible execution, 
 he supposes to be, in the strictest propriety of 
 speecli, the second death, and that, after it, the soul, 
 being in its own nature immortal, will for ever sub- 
 
 sist in a separate state, and must be unutterably 
 miserable, as the natural consequences of exclusion 
 from Heaven, and of all those guilty passions which 
 it will carry along with it into this state. But this 
 seems hardly consistent with those Scriptures which 
 represent, not merely the punishment of the wicked, 
 but the fire in which they are tormented, as ever- 
 lasting and vnquenehable, and insist on this un- 
 quenchablcness as a most important circumstance 
 in the punishment of the damned, which on this 
 hypothesis it could not be ; for these separate spirits 
 would be very little concerned in the question, 
 whether the fire in which their bodies had been con- 
 sumed were afterwards put out, or still kept burn- 
 ing. It is urged also, that Rev. xx. 14. is directly 
 contrary to this hypothesis. And, by tlie way, it 
 may be observed, that tWjjc spoken of here, may be 
 the same with that visionary person represented as 
 following death. Rev. vi. 8. and their being both 
 cast into Hell, might signify expressly that there 
 should be no more death properly so called, and 
 consequently no separate state ever to succeed. 
 
 His main argument is, that this hypothesis makes 
 the future punishment of the wicked eternal, not in 
 consequence of any particular act of divine judg- 
 ment towards them, but as the result of the natural 
 constitution of things. Nevertheless, since he 
 allows God to have been the Author of that con- 
 stitution, and to have known all the particulars 
 arising from it, it will (as was hinted and urged 
 above, Sol. § 2. Arg. i. gr. 4.) be as hard to account 
 for a general constitution, whereby creatures are 
 made perpetually miserable, as for a particular 
 interposition with regard to each ; or rather (on the 
 principles laid down. Prop. 32.) the difference be- 
 tween the one and the other is verbal rather than 
 real. Horbcrry on Put. Punish, p. 107. 
 
 LECTURE CCXXIV. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Origen, and some modern writers, particularly 
 Dr. Hartley (in his treatise entitled Observations on 
 Man) and Chevalier Ramsay, have apprehended, 
 that at length all the damned, not excepting the 
 fallen angels, and Satan the liead of the apostasy, 
 will be so reformed by the discipline of their punish- 
 ment, as to be brought to real repentance and piety ; 
 upon which they will not only be released from their 
 prison, but admitted to partake witli the blessed in 
 everlasting happiness. Those Scriptures, in which 
 God is said to desire and will the salvation of all, as 
 well as the preceding arguments in the second 
 section, supposed to demonstrate the absurdity of 
 eternal punishments, compared with the arguments 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 523 
 
 both from reason and Scripture in proof of the im- 
 mortality of the soul, are urged to this purpose. 
 But these Scriptures admit of so just an interpret- 
 ation another way, that there is little reason to 
 entertain such an apprehension ; and all that was 
 urged under the first section of the proposition lies 
 yet more directly against this hypothesis than 
 against that of the amii/iilation of the damned, after 
 they have endured punishment of some determinate 
 time, the length of which might be proportionable 
 to their respective offences. And it must be added, 
 that the whole tenor of Scripture lies against this 
 hypothesis, since it represents the judgment day as 
 that in which the final states of men are to be irre- 
 versibly determined (compare Rev. xxii. 11. Matt. 
 I xxvi. 24.) ; and nothing can be more dangerous 
 than to encourage sinners to hope that, though they 
 should reject the Gospel, and run into the commis- 
 sion of all kinds of wickedness, how aggravated 
 soever, yet the time will come when the}' shall out- 
 live all the evils they are to endure on that account, 
 and that they shall throughout all eternity be happy 
 I beyond all conception, in consequence of this tem- 
 I porary punishment. This representation seems 
 ; utterly to subvert the whole Gospel scheme ; and 
 I if any hypothesis stands in need of such a support, 
 I nothing can be more reasonable than to reject it, 
 nnless we are deteusined to throw aside Christianity 
 itself. 
 
 World Unmasked. White's Restitution of all 
 Thinys. Trav. of Cyrus, vol. ii.* 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Mr. Whiston, in order (as it seems) to get clear 
 of the argument for the eternity of Hell-torments, 
 ' from those texts of Scripture which speak of them 
 I in the same language as of the eternal duration of 
 heavenly felicity, has thought fit to intimate his 
 doubts concerning the latter, as well as to declare 
 his disl)clief of the former, though he owns its dura- 
 tion shall be much loiiyer. — But most of tlie natural 
 arguments for the immortality of the soul plead 
 strongly against the supposition of the anniliilation 
 of good men, after having existed many millions of 
 ages in a state of virtue and happiness : it seems 
 not to suit our natural notions of the divine good- 
 ness and ju.stice, to imagine he will annihilate 
 them, though no ofl'ence has been committed to for- 
 feit bis favour: and Mr. Whiston himself docs not 
 intimate any apprehension of their falling into sin 
 and condemnation, and .so going a perpetual round 
 of probations. We may add, that such a supposed 
 
 • The doctrine of tlie final ■•alvaliDn of (lie wicked has been main, 
 liiincd by several late writirs. These are, Mr. Stoiiehonse, in his 
 Universal Restitution a Srriiiliirc Uoctrine; Mr. VVincliester, in his 
 Outcasts romforted ; and Ills Universal Restoration ; Dr. Chaiincy, in 
 his Mystery hid from Ages and Generations, made manifest by the 
 Gospel Revelation ; Mr. IJrown, in his Restitution of all Things; ami 
 ' Mr. I»etil|iierre, in his Thoughts on Divine (Joodiiess, relative to Moral 
 Alteiits, parlitularly displayed in Putiire Rewards and Fuiiishmeiits 
 To these aulhois nuy be ailded Bishop Newton, in his Dissertation on 
 the final State and Condition of Men. See his Works, vol. iii. p. 719 
 
 revolt would be utterly inconsistent with what the 
 Scripture asserts, of the care of Christ over his 
 people, and the security especially of their heavenly 
 state, as well as with what it says of the complete 
 happiness of that state, which could not consist 
 with the apprehension of annihilation, though the 
 time when it was to be expected were or were not 
 particularly known. But Mr. Whiston does not 
 stop here : he in effect intimates, that the time may 
 come when Christ also himself shall cease to be ; 
 so that the Redeemer himself and all his redeemed, 
 according to his hypothesis, may at length be blot- 
 ted out from among the works of God : — a thought 
 so inconsistent with the doctrine of Christ's Deity, 
 as laid down above, and on the whole so sltocking, 
 that merely to mention it seems sufficient to expose 
 the absurdity of the principle from which it could 
 follow. Whist. Eter. of Hell Torm. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLXIV. 
 To give a brief view of the Scripture doctrine of 
 the general conflagration, which shall attend the 
 last judgment. 
 
 SOLUTION'. 
 
 1. Scripture assures us in the general, that this 
 Earth in its present form will not be perpetual, but 
 shall come to an end. Psal. cii. 2.5, 26, et sim. 
 
 2. It further tells lis, that this dissolution of the 
 "orld shall be by a general conflagration, in which 
 all things upon the face of the Earth shall be de- 
 stroyed ; by which the atmosphere shall also be 
 sensibly affected, as in such a case it necessarily 
 must be (2 Pet. iii. 5 — 7, 10, 12.) ; where, from the 
 connexion of the words, the opposition between 
 the conflagration and the Deluge, as well as the 
 most literal and apparent import of the phrases 
 themselves, if is plain they cannot, as Dr. Ham- 
 mond strangely supposes, refer to the desolation 
 brought on Judea when destroyed by the Romans, 
 but must refer to the dissolution of the whole Earth. 
 
 Ray's Three Disc. p. 303. 
 
 3. The Scripture represents this great burning a.s 
 a circumstance nearly connected with the day of 
 judgment (2 Pet. iii. 7. compared with 2 Thess. i. 
 7, 8. Heb. X. 27. 1 Cor. iii. 12, 13.) ; and it is pro- 
 bable there may be an allusion to this in several 
 passages of the Old Testament, such as Psal. xi. 
 (i; 1. 3; xcvii. 3. Isa. xxxiv. 4, 8—10; Ixvi. 1.5. 
 Dan. vii. 9, 10. Mai. iv. 1. Zeph. iii. 8. Deut. 
 xxxii. 22. to which many parallel expressions 
 might be added, from the canonical and apocryphal 
 Itooks. 
 
 4. It is not expressly declared how this burning 
 shall be kindled, nor how it shall end ; m hich has 
 given occasion to various conjectures al)oiit it ; the 
 chief of which will lie mentioned below. 
 
 Burnet's Theory, c. xii. Whist. Theory, c. v. 
 
524 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 sriioLU'M 1. 
 The Heathens liad sonic notion of sucli a conlla- 
 gration ; particularly Pliny the Elder, who thou!!;ht 
 there was such a propensity in nature to it, that he 
 V ondcred it had not happened lon<j ago ; and the 
 Stoics, who seem to liave thought fire the first prin- 
 ciple of all things, or tlie supreme God ; but they 
 held that there would through all eternity be cer- 
 tain periodical conllagrations and renovations of 
 nature, in which, by a certain fatal necessity, the 
 same persons and same events should in an endless 
 series be produced. 
 
 Orig. con. Cels. p. 208. Inq. into a Fitt. State, 
 
 p. 87. Grot, de Verit. p. 81. Plin. Nat. Hist. 
 
 c. cvii. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Some, on the contrary, have thought a conflagra- 
 tion impossible, on account of the great quantity of 
 liquids which are to be found in the Earth, sea, and 
 atmosphere. But it is answered, 1. That the Earth 
 may be heated to such a degree, that all these may 
 be evaporated ; of which the state of comets, in 
 their nearest access to the sun, seems to be in fact a 
 proof. 2. That the air is sometimes so licated, that 
 fire is soon kindled in it, which cannot be extin- 
 guished without great difficulty. 3. That though no 
 natural cause could be assigned, the miraculous 
 power of Christ, or agency of his angels, may suffice : 
 and indeed, on the whole, it seems that we could 
 not from natural causes certainly infer that there 
 would be a conflagration ; and consequently, what 
 some of the ancients have so confidently said of it, 
 is to be regarded chiefly as a tradition. Vid. Prop. 
 21. Schol. 2. 3Iore's Theol. Works, p. 159. 
 
 LECTURE CCXXV. 
 
 SCHOI-Il'M 3. 
 
 Dr. Thomas Burnet supposes that many natural 
 causes will concur, as the occasion of this burning: 
 v.g. that many dry summers preceding it will ren- 
 der the face of the Earth coml)ustibic in an uncom- 
 mon degree ; that volcanoes will break out in many 
 places, and that there will also be an eruption of 
 that central fire which Dr. Woodward and some 
 others suppose to have been lodged in the bowels 
 of the Earth at the creation, (Woodw. Nat. Hist, 
 part iii. § 1.) and he particularly conjectures, that 
 one violent eruption preceding the general confla- 
 gration, will swallow up the city of Rome, and per- 
 haps all that tract of land which is called the state 
 of the chvrch, in Italy ; w hich event he thinks is 
 intimated Rev. xix. 20. But it seems a strong ob- 
 jection against this supposed yrndual approach of a 
 conflagration, that our Lord describes the day of 
 
 judgment as coming at an unexpected season ; and 
 supposes men in such a state of sensuality and 
 luxury, as one could hardly imagine an Earth so 
 desolated and ruined would be capable of affording 
 materials for. Luke xii. 39. (compared with 2 Pet. 
 iii. 10.) xvii. 26—30. 1 Thess. v. 2—4. 
 
 Burnet's Theory, c. vi. 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Mr. Whiston supposes that a comet will be the 
 cause of the conflagration, as it was of the Deluge; 
 which it may effect, cither by drawing the Earth 
 into the sun, in its descent towards it, or (which he 
 supposes more probable) in its ascent, when heated 
 b}' the sun, drawing off the vapours, emptying the 
 seas, inflaming the air, and perhaps the surface of 
 the Earth, or at least operating upon it so far as to 
 make way for that action of the central fire, which 
 he supposes would of itself be sufficient to produce 
 a conflagration, were it not balanced by a proper 
 degree of moisture and of cold. And indeed such 
 alterations the access of a comet, so heated as some 
 have been, would naturally produce, even though 
 it should not pass close to the Earth. He supposes 
 the comet, seen in the year 1680, may be the execu- 
 tioner of the divine vengeance upon the Earth, in 
 some of its revolutions ; but when that will be, he 
 pretends not to determine. But if the po.ssibility of 
 calculating this period by astronomical observations 
 be admitted, it seems inconsistent with what is said 
 in Mark xiii. 32. and elsewhere, of the absolute 
 uncertainty of the time when this great event will 
 come to pass, and may perhaps afford an objection 
 against that part of the scheme, which in other 
 branches it appears very probable. 
 
 Whist. Theory, c. v. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 What w ill become of this Earth, after this burn- 
 ing is kindled, and has done its work, it is hard to 
 determine. Some have thought it would continue 
 inflamed, and so become the seat of the damned ; 
 others have imagined it would rise like a phoenix 
 out of its ashes, which hypothesis will more parti- 
 cularly be considered in the next proposition ; and 
 some imagine its annual motion will be so disturbed 
 that it will become a comet, and continue for some 
 time in that state, till possibly the approach of 
 some other heavenly body may so alter its motion, 
 and correct its eccentricity, as to reduce it again to 
 a planetary state ; and it is said, we know not but 
 this may be the case with regard to many other pla- 
 nets and comets ; and that perhaps, as the dissolu- 
 tion of one animal body supports the growth of an- 
 other, so dissolving systems may with immense 
 variety support and form otliers ; but (his is a very 
 precarious conjecture, and would intimate a wider 
 extent of natural and probably moral evil in the 
 universe than one would be forward to allow ; for 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 525 
 
 t"he conflagration of a planet can hardly be conceived 
 to happen without the ruin of its inhabitants. Some 
 have thought Rev. xx. 11. and xxi. 1. some argu- 
 ment for this hypothesis ; but it must be owned to 
 be a very precarious one, considering how different 
 an interpretation these words may admit of. 
 
 Burnet's Theory, lib. iv. e. viii. x. 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 The order assigned for this conflagration is not 
 expressly determined in Scripture ; but it seems 
 probable that it will be after Christ's appearance, 
 rather than before it ; since it is expressly said, that 
 some believers shoulfl be found alive at Christ's 
 coming ; which plainly shows that no such cala- 
 mity will then have befallen the Earth as must de- 
 stroy the whole human race, which a conflagration 
 probably would. Therefore, comparing 2 Pet. iii. 
 10 — 13. with 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52. there seems reason 
 to conclude that, on our Lord's appearing, the living 
 saints, together with the dead now raised, will be 
 caught up to meet him, the bodies of the former 
 undergoing some great, yet gentle, and probably 
 delightful, change, to make them fit for a celestial 
 life (I Thcss. iv. 15, 8cc.) ; but as for the wicked, 
 whether they will be judged and condemned before 
 this fire is kindled, after it is spent, or while it con- 
 tinues, is not expressly asserted ; perhaps, by the 
 righteous judgment of God, those found alive may 
 , be left to die by these flames, of which they will be 
 the more worthy, considering the peculiar aggrava- 
 tion attending their crimes, in consequence of those 
 circumstances which will hereafter be represented. 
 Vid. Prop. 166. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 j Bishop Burnet thinks that the action of this fire 
 upon the bodies of the dead w ould have some natural 
 efficacj', to render the particles of them more pure 
 and fixed, and so to fit them for an immortal life ; 
 but it is not easy to understand this eflicacy, or to 
 reconcile this hypothesis (so far as it may relate to 
 the righteous) with what is said in the preceding 
 scholium, and with 1 Thess. iv. 15. where it is ex- 
 pressly asserted, "That the living saints shall not 
 be changed before the dead in Christ are raised ;" 
 so that, on the whole, if there be any thing at all in 
 this conjecture, it must only relate to tlie bodies of 
 
 .the wicked. Bur7i. on the Art. p. 66. 
 
 ! SCHOLIUM 8. 
 
 Mr. Fleming also supposed that the conflagration 
 would attend Christ's first appearance to judgment ; 
 and would not only precede the general resurrec- 
 tion, but also the change of tliose who were found 
 alive. He thought the most eminent saints would 
 immediately be caught up and changed ; that 
 the wicked who were then alive would (as was 
 intimated at the end of the sixth scholium) l)e 
 burnt to death by the last fire ; and that persons in 
 
 the main good, but whose characters were attended 
 with some remarkable imperfections, would feel in 
 proportion to those imperfections some different 
 degrees of pain and terror on this occasion ; which 
 he supposes to be intimated, when it is spoken of as 
 the peculiar privilege of some good men, that they 
 should not be hurt by the second death, (Rev. ii. 2.) 
 and that it should have no power over them, Rev. xx. 
 6. He seems to think that something like this 
 would also be the case of those true Christians who 
 were before dead in the like imperfect state of vir- 
 tue and holiness ; for he fancied the resurrection 
 would be accomplished before the conflagration was 
 entirely over, and to this he refers that disputed 
 passage, 1 Cor. iii. 15. Origen taught a doctrine 
 nearly resembling this ; but he extended the eflicacy 
 of this purging fire in some degree to the most emi- 
 nent Christians, not excepting the apostles them- 
 selves ; and this, by the way, was the first purgatory 
 taught in the Christian church ; but this order is 
 directly contrary to 1 Thess. iv. 15. and the text 
 referred to above will so easily admit of a different 
 interpretation, that few will believe, in consequence 
 of his arguments from them, that Christ should 
 appear to torment them, and terrify great numbers 
 of those whom he immediately intended to raise to 
 perfect glory and felicity, and most of whom had 
 dwelt with him in the holiness and happiness of the 
 intermediate state. 
 
 Flem. on the Millen. vol. iii. p. 44. 
 
 LECTURE CCXXVI. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLXV. 
 To state the hypothesis of those who assert that, 
 after the conflagration, there shall be a renovation 
 of the Earth; and to enumerate the chief Scriptures 
 which they urge in support of that assertion. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. Dr. Thomas Burnet and Mr. Whiston concur 
 in asserting that the Earth will not be entirely con- 
 sumed; but that the matter of w hich it consists will 
 be fixed, purified, and refined; which they say will 
 be the natural consequence of the action of fire upon 
 it; though it is hard to say what such a purification 
 can do towards fitting it for its intended purpose ; 
 for it is certain, a mass of crystal or glass would 
 very ill answer the following parts of this hypo- 
 thesis. 
 
 2. They suppose, that from these materials thus 
 refined, as from a second chaos, there will, by the 
 power of God, arise a new creation ; and that the 
 face of the Earth, and likewise the atmosphere, will 
 then be so restored, as to resemble what it originally 
 was in the paradisaical state, — and consequently to 
 
5-26 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 render it a more desirable abode for hiiinan erea- 
 lures tlian it at present is ; and tliey iirf;e lor this 
 purpose the following texts, vis. 2 Pet. iii. 13. 
 (couip. Isa. Ixv. 17; Ixvi. 22.) Matt. xix. 28, 29. 
 (compare Mark x. 29, 30. Luke xviii. 29, 30.) 
 Psal. cii. 25, 26. Aets iii. 21. 1 Cor. vii. 31. Rom. 
 viii. 21. 
 
 3. They a^ree in snpposin<!: that, in this new state 
 of thinjts, tliere w ill be no sea. Rev. xxi. 1. 
 
 4. Mr. \\liiston also sujjposes that the eomet, 
 whieh will oeeasion the conllagration, coming on the 
 east side of the Eartli, will impress a foree upon it, 
 by which its diurnal motion will be impaired to such 
 a degree, as that the remainder of it will only sufiice 
 to caiTy it round its own axis once, while it dis- 
 patcheth its course in the ecliptic ; the consequence 
 of which will be, that one hemisphere will have 
 perpetual day, and the other never see the sun at 
 all ; but the want of that, he supposes, will be sup- 
 plied by some bright luminary, whieh shall appear 
 fixed in the zenith of that hemisphere, and which 
 may therefore be called, T/ie tjlory of the Lord. He 
 
 - also supposes that the attraction of the comet will 
 occasion a final separation of the Moon, which will 
 be no longer necessary. Rev. xxi. 23 — 25 ; xxii. 5. 
 Dr. Thomas Burnet conjectures that the renovation 
 of the earth will, in a great measure, be occasioned 
 by correcting the obliquity of its axis, and causing 
 it to remain at right angles with the ecliptic ; but 
 Dr. Keil has admirably proved, in his Examination 
 of the Theory, that this would be a mischief to the 
 Earth, rather than a benefit ; and, besides all the 
 other inconveniences and diniculties attending this 
 part of Mr. Whiston's hypothesis, that of continual 
 summer and day, at least in that hemisphere towards 
 the sun, seems to be of great weight ; and if the 
 Earth were supposed to be hereafter removed so far 
 from the sun as to render such a degree of heat 
 tolerable, the degree of light on that hemisphere 
 must be proportionably diminished. 
 
 5. They both suppose that the Earth, thus beau- 
 tified and improved, shall be inhabited by those 
 who shall inherit the first resurrection, and shall 
 here enjoy a very considerable degree of happiness, 
 though not equal to that which is to succeed the 
 general judgment ; which judgment shall, accord- 
 ing to them, open when those thousand years arc 
 expired, mentioned Rev. xx. 4, &c. 1 Thess. iv. 17. 
 (comp. ver. 1.5.) ; wliich passage is thought by some 
 to contain an insinuation that Paul expected to be 
 alive at the appearance of Christ; which must 
 imply an expectation of being thus raised from the 
 dead before it; but it is answered. That the ex- 
 pression We that are alive, may only signify " Those 
 of us that are so," speaking of all Christians as one 
 body, 1 Cor. xv. 49 — 62. It is remarkable that Dr. 
 Hartley has declared it as his opinion, that this 
 Millennium shall consist of a thousand prophetical 
 
 years, where each day is a year, i. e. of 3(50,000 
 years, pleading that this is the language used in 
 other parts of tlie Revelations. 
 
 Whist. Theory. Burn. Theory. Keil's Exam, 
 of Burnet. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 It seems an invincible objection against this 
 liypothesis, which places the Millennium after the 
 conflagration, that the saints inhabiting the Earth 
 after the first resurrection, are represented as dis- 
 tressed by the invasion of some wicked enemies, 
 who are called Goy and Magoy. Rev. xx. 7 — 9. 
 Ezek. xxxviii. and xxxix. Now, forasmuch as 
 the whole race of mankind must be destroyed from 
 the face of the Earth by the conflagration, if not 
 miraculously removed from it, it is impossible to 
 account for the existence of those wicked men on 
 the renewed Earth, — not to mention the difficulty of 
 saying what would become of those good men who 
 were found alive at the conflagration, who cannot 
 all be supposed worthy of the first resurrection ; 
 nor can we imagine they would be changed to dwell 
 here. It is difficult, with respect to the foremen- 
 tioned objection, either to suppose that some of the 
 saints shall be perverted, or that the wicked shall 
 be raised before their time, as it seems, purely to 
 alllict God's people. To solve this objection, Dr. 
 Burnet, on Glanville's wild principles, is driven to 
 tlic wretched expedient of supposing a race of 
 earth-born men to spring like mushrooms out of 
 the ground. 
 
 Glanv. Lux. Orient, p. 142. Campbell's Ne- 
 cessity of Revelation, p. 273. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 Though Mr. Fleming does not entirely agree with 
 Dr. Burnet and Mr. Whiston in all the foregoing 
 particulars, yet he interprets Rev. xx. 6. as referring 
 to a proper resurrection. He supposes that what 
 happened Matt, xxvii. .52. was a pledge of this ; 
 and, by the way, he conjectures that the most cele- 
 brated saints of the Old -Testament times then arose, 
 and ascended with Christ to Heaven (forgetting, as 
 it seems, the strong objection against this from 
 Acts ii. 29). Agreeably to this, he apprehends that 
 the saints, who are to be the subjects of the first 
 resurrection, will perhaps appear to some of the 
 inhai)itants of this Earth, whieh may be a means of 
 reviving religion among them ; yet will not have 
 their abode here ; but that during the thousand 
 years in which the kingdom of Christ shall have its 
 highest triumph on Earth, they shall be rejoicing 
 with him in Heaven, in a state of happiness far 
 superior to that whieh they enjoyed in the separate 
 state, yet not equal to what is to be expected after 
 the general judgment. To this peculiar privilege 
 of the martyrs, and some other eminent saints, he 
 supposes St. Paul to have referred, Phil. iii. 9 — 11. 
 in that very emphatical phrase, (especially accord- 
 
I 
 
 ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 ing to the Alexandrian reading, which is well 
 attested by several other copies,) rijv t^ava^aaiv rriv 
 f/c TiDv veKp(Dv ; and be lays it down as a general rule, 
 that £?ava<ra<Tig, or avwraffig ex Toiv vixpiov, when- 
 ever either of them is used, signifies this Jirst resur- 
 rection from among the rest of the dead ; and on 
 this foundation he gives a peculiar but very pre- 
 carious turn to Luke ii. 34 ; xx. 35, 36. John xi. 
 26, 26. Acts iv. 2 ; xxvi. 23. Rom. i. 4. 
 
 Flem. on the First Res. p. 29.* 
 
 LECTURE CCXXVII. 
 
 SCHOLll M 3. 
 
 Mr. Ray agrees that there will be a renovation of 
 the Earth, and though he does not grant, as some 
 have supposed, a resurrection of the same animals 
 that once lived upon it, (as well seeing there would 
 not be room to contain them,) yet he supposes that 
 other like animals will be created anew, as well as 
 like vegetables, to adorn the Earth, and to support 
 the animals, only all in higher degrees of beauty 
 and perfection than they have ever before had ; but 
 he pretends not to determine whether the Earth, 
 thus beautified and adorned, as he supposes, after 
 the general resurrection, shall be the scat of a new- 
 race of men, or only remain as the ol)jcct of con- 
 templation to some happy spirits, who may behold 
 it, though without any rational animals to inhabit 
 it, as a curious plan of the most excjuisite me- 
 chanism ; which last seems to be a very wild, as 
 well as the former a very precarious, hypothesis, — 
 and would make all the supposed bounty of God 
 bestowed upon it perfectly insignificant and useless. 
 
 Ray's Disc. Nat. Disp. vol. i. p. 290. 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 The patrons of the millenary scheme, as laid down 
 in the proposition, plead, not only that there was 
 among the Stoic philosophers a tradition of the 
 renovation of the Earth, (vid. Prop. 164. Schol. 1.) 
 but also that it was generally asserted by the 
 Cliristian fathers. But Dr. Whitby suppo.ses the 
 Millennium to refer entirely to the prosperous state 
 of the Christian church after the conversion of the 
 .Jews, when the fulness of the Gentiles shall also 
 flow into it, denying that such a tradition did ever 
 universally prevail, — the chief authority of which 
 rests on a passage of Irenseus, where he relates it 
 I as a report of Papias, a person generally esteemed 
 jof but little credit : and indeed it is certain that the 
 
 ' • Dr. Caleb Fleming, in his Survey of tlic Search .ifter Souls, lias 
 advanced an opinion. That the final jiKlgment of every man lakes 
 place immediately after Ins dissolution; and that the mediatorial king, 
 dom of Christ consists in the exercise of this judgment, until the 
 restitution or consummation of all things. The same opinion is main- 
 tained by a writer in the Theological Repository, vol. ii. No, 32.— Dr. 
 Fleming's Survey was answered by Dr. I'eckarcf. 
 
 .527 
 
 account he gives of the matter does by no means 
 agree with that of Burnet and Whiston ; and con- 
 tains some particulars too gross to be admitted on 
 such slender evidence. 
 
 Whit, on Millen. Burnet's Theory. Burn. 
 ArchceoL p. 236. Rai/s Disc. p. 406. 
 
 SCHOLIl'M 5. 
 
 Dr. Whitby endeavours to invalidate all those 
 Scripture proofs which Burnet, Whiston, and Ray, 
 have urged in favour of their respective schemes, 
 especially the two former ; and further pleads 
 against it, 
 
 1. That it would be a great detriment to the glori- 
 fied saints to be brought down to dwell upon Earth, 
 in the most pleasing form which it can be supposed 
 to put on. 
 
 2. That it is inconsistent with the description 
 which the Sciipture gives of the resurrection, and 
 the change to be made in the body that shall be 
 raised. 
 
 3. That it is contrary to the genius of the Chris- 
 tian religion, to suppose it built on temporal pro- 
 mises. 
 
 To the first of these objections it may be replied, 
 That none knows to m hat degree the Earth may be 
 beautified and adorned, or to what happiness the 
 saints may arrive, when free (as this hypothesis 
 supposes they will be) from all moral and penal 
 law. To the second, That the account of the spiritu- 
 ality of the saints' bodies after the resurrection, is 
 to be understood as referring to the general resur- 
 rection only; and may be consistent with supposing 
 that some saints shall at first be raised in a less 
 perfect state, (as we know some few who have 
 already been raised were,) who shall, at the con- 
 summation of all things, undergo a proper change. 
 To the third. That though it is the genius of the 
 Cliristian religion to govern its professors by fiiik 
 rather than sight, nevertheless, as this frst resur- 
 rection is the object of faith, there is no absurdity 
 in supposing it to be promised, — especially since all 
 agree that there will be some pleasure in Heaven 
 suited to the corporeal part of our nature ; — and 
 Whitby himself allows that there are promises of 
 great temporal prosperity made to the church in the 
 latter days. 
 
 On the whole, the most considerable argument 
 against the literal interpretation of the jiassages in 
 ((uestion, arises from the nature of the book of the 
 Revelations, which is so plainly figurative in the 
 greatest part of it, that it seems reasonable, on 
 principles of analogy, to suppo.se it to be so here, 
 and to interpret this resurrection as a revival of the 
 cause, rather than of the persons ; and the rather, as 
 the resurrection of the tivo witnesses, mentioned 
 Rev. xi. 1). is generally acknowledged to be meant 
 in this figurative sense : but the expression of the 
 
A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 rest of the drad. is liard to be explained, even witli 
 this key. Wlntbijon Millen. Millenianism consid.* 
 SCllOLIl'M 6. 
 
 Dr. WortIiiii<;ton lia.s advanced a scheme very 
 dillVrcnt from any of these WTiters in the main, 
 tlioiifjh in some eireiinistances rescmblinfi: theirs ; 
 which is, that the (lospel, being intended to restore 
 the ruins of the Fall, will f?radually meliorate the 
 world, till by a train of natural consecjuences, under 
 tlie inllucnee of Divine Providence and grace, it is 
 restored to a paradisaical state. He supposes this 
 plan is already advanced through some important 
 stages, of which he thinks the amendment of the 
 Earth's natural state at the Deluge (which, with 
 Dr. Sherlock, he maintains) to have been a very 
 considerable one. He considers all improvements 
 in learning and arts, as well as the propagation of 
 the Gospel among the heathen nations, as the pro- 
 cess of this scheme ; but he apprehends mucli 
 greater advances are to be made, about the year of 
 Christ 2000, when the Millennium will commence; 
 whicli shall be, according to liim, such a glorious 
 state as Whitby supposes, but with this additional 
 circumstance, that, after some interruption from 
 the last efl'ects of wickedness by Gog and Mapof/, 
 this shall terminate in the yet nobler state of the 
 new Heaven and the new Earth, spoken of Rev. xxi. 
 xxii. which he supposes will be absolutely Para- 
 dise restored ; in which all natural and moral evil 
 shall be banished from Earth, and death itself shall 
 have no further place ; but good men shall con- 
 tinue in the highest rectitude of state, and in the 
 greatest imaginable degree of terrestrial felicity, 
 till the coming of Christ and universal judgment 
 close this beautiful and delightful scene, perhaps 
 several thousands of years hence. Indeed, he seems 
 to intimate some apprehension, that the consumma- 
 tion of all tilings will happen about the year of the 
 world 2.59'20, the end of the fjrent year, as the Pla- 
 tonics called it, when the equinoxes shall have 
 revolved. But the reasonings by which these con- 
 jectures are supported, are, on the one hand, too 
 diffuse to be represented ; and, on the other, too 
 superficial to need to be confuted here. 
 
 Worthinf/ton on the extent of Redemption, f 
 
 * Tlie doctrine of the Millennium, in its literal sense, is maintuincd 
 by Mr. Kyre, in a tract entitleti Oliscrvations on tlie Prophecies relat- 
 ing to tlie Restoration of the Jews ; and hy Bishop Newton, in his 
 Dissertations on ttie Prophecies. See the Dissertations, vol. iii. p. 
 312—333; or the Bishop s Works, vol. i. p. 715—728. On the same 
 side of the question is Dr. Priestley, in his Sermon preached on Occa. 
 sion of the Fast appointed by Government, February 28, 1791. 
 
 + An old writer, of the same name, has advanct-d nearly the same 
 sentiments, in a volume of miscellanies, published in 1704. The book 
 treats almost entirely on the Millennium; and one of the su(>jccts is 
 expressly JM EccleaitE in Terris futura Felicitate. 
 
 LECTURE CCXXVIII. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLXVI. 
 Briefly to survey the chief prophecies of Scrip- 
 ture, relating to the conversion of the Jews, and 
 its consequences with regard to the Gentile world. 
 
 SOU'TION AND DKMONSTIIATION. 
 
 1. Though the Jews have for many ages been re- 
 jected by God, and driven out from their ancient 
 inheritance, and though, during their dispersion, 
 they have generally expressed an obstinate and 
 implacable aversion to Christianity, and indeed a 
 great disregard to all true morality and religion, — 
 it is foretold that they will at length embrace their 
 own Messiah, whom they now reject, and thereupon 
 be taken into the divine favour and covenant anew. 
 Rom. xi. 11—36. Isa. xlv. 17, 23—25 ; liv. per tot.; 
 Ix. Ixii. Ixv. Ixvi. Jer. xxxi. 31 — 34. Hos. iii. 4,5. 
 Zech. xii. 9 ; xiii. 1 ; and many Scriptures quoted 
 below. 
 
 2. On their conversion, they shall, by a train of 
 wonderful providences, be gathered together from 
 the countries in which they are now scattere.l, and 
 conducted to their own land, where' they shall be- 
 come a prosperous and honourable, as well as a 
 religious, nation. Isa. xxvii. 12, 13. Ezek. xi. 17 — 
 21 ; xxxvi. 24 — 28 ; xxxvii. 21 — 28 ; xxxix. 23 — 
 29. Hos. i. 10, 11. Amos ix. 14, 15. Zech. xiv. 10, 
 11, 21. 
 
 3. Whereas, on their settlement in their own land, 
 some enemies shall make an assault upon them, 
 some celebrated victory over such enemies is fore- 
 told, Isa. Ixvi. 16, 24. Ezek. xxxviii. 39. Joel iii. 
 9—14. Zech. xiv. 1—1.5. Rev. xx. 8—10. to which 
 we may perhaps add Isa. lix. 19. Micah iv. 11, 13. 
 Zeph. iii. 8. 
 
 4. This interposition of God, in the methods of 
 his providence and grace, for the recovery and de- 
 fence of the Jews, shall make such impressions on 
 the Gentiles, as to be a means of bringing in the 
 fulness of them. Isa. xlix. 6. Rom. xi. 12, 15, 25, 
 26. See the passages quoted gr. 1. 
 
 Burn. App. ad Stat. Mart. Clark on the Prom. 
 p. 243. Powell's Concord. Lardn. Circumst. 
 of the Jews, p. 65. J 
 
 SCHOLIUM 1. 
 
 When the context of most of those places referred 
 to is examined, it will appear that few, if any of 
 them, can be justly applied to the restoration of the 
 Jews from the Babylonish captiviti/ ; especially con- 
 sidering how expressly their regard to David their 
 king, I. e. to Christ, is mentioned, as previous to 
 
 t Dr. Blayney, in his new translation of Jeremiah, has considered 
 the subject of the restoration of the Jews. See the introduction and 
 notes oil the 3llth and 31st chapters. The same subject occasionally 
 occurs in diffcient parts of Dr. Priestley's writings, and is particularly 1 
 treated of in his Discourses on the Evidence of Revealed Religion, , 
 Discourse the eighth, p. 203-241. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 529 
 
 those giacious appearances of God in their favour ; 
 and also how expressly it is promised, in some of 
 those passages, that the Jews, after the restoration 
 referred to in them, shall never be rooted out of 
 their land any more. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 2. 
 
 It is not improbable that Deut. xxx. 1—6. and 
 many other places in the Pentateuch, refer chiefly 
 to this greatest dispersion of the Jews, and their 
 final restoration ; though most of the phrases there 
 used are such as suited all the eminent deliver- 
 ances God wrought out for them, so that each of 
 those deliverances might be looked upon as an ac- 
 complishment of this prediction ; nevertheless, those 
 treated of in the proposition, being the greatest 
 events of tlie kind, it seems reasonable to consider 
 this prophecy of Moses as chiefly centring in them, 
 though comprehending the other as types or models, 
 which preserves a unity of sense ^nd design as 
 much as any interpretation whatsoever can do : and 
 indeed the passage referred to above seems a general 
 prophecy, That, upon their return to God, they 
 should always be delivered ; with an intimation, 
 (ver. 6.) that, through God's gracious operation, this 
 happy turn should be the final catastrophe of their 
 nation. Compare Prop. 112. Cor. 1. 
 
 Jackson's Credihility, p. 169, &c. Patrick in Loc. 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 How far the form of government and religion 
 among the Jews may, upon their restoration to their 
 own land, be changed from what it originally was, 
 we cannot certainly say ; but it is exceedingly pro- 
 bable that so much of their ancient law will continue 
 in force, as can be reconciled with the genius of 
 the Christian religion ; and that God will raise up 
 some divinely inspired prophets among them, with 
 a full declaration of his mind and will in relation 
 to a variety of questions, which we have not light 
 enough to decide : and some have thought that 
 Elias, i. e. John the Baptist, (of whom the Old Tes- 
 tament prophesied by that name,) will th(;n be 
 raised from the dead, and bear a considerable part 
 in the glorious work of converting and settling them. 
 Jer. iii. 15. Mai. iv. 5,6. 
 
 Jeffries' s Review. Mede on Mark i. 14. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 4. 
 
 Some have supposed that the ancient patriarchs 
 will then be raised from the dead ; and Lord Bar- 
 rington, in particular, thinks (as Irenaeus formerly 
 , did) this supposition necessary for vindicating the 
 1 truth of God, in promising to them, as well as to 
 their seed, the land of Canaan, which they never in 
 their lifetime possessed. He thinks that this is the 
 easiest way of clearing up our Lord's argument for 
 a resurrection, from God's calling himself </ieir God 
 after their death. Matt. xxii. 31. and the parallel 
 places. But it is certain our Lord's argument will 
 2 II 
 
 be conclusive without this ; and the land might be 
 said to be given to the patriarchs, as they were 
 secured by the divine promise, that their scerf should 
 possess it : and if tlie Hebrew particle be rendered 
 even, as it often is, all shadow of an argument from 
 this promise will be removed. Compare Isa. Ivi. 
 5. Ezek. XX. 11. Psal. li. ult. Mie. ii. 13. where it 
 is thus rendered. 
 
 Barrington's Ess. on Div. Disp. p. 84. 
 SCHOLIUM 5. 
 
 Some have apprehended, that several extraor- 
 dinary miracles shall be wrought to assist the Jews 
 in their return, Mic. vii. 15. particularly, that the 
 rivers shall be dried up which would oppose their 
 passage, (Isa. xi. 15, 16. Zech. x. 11. compare 
 Rev. xvi. 12.) that others shall be open in dry places 
 through which they are to march, (Isa. xli. 17, 18 ; 
 xliii. 19, 20.) and that Christ himself shall appear 
 in person among them, to lead them on in a con- 
 siderable body, (Isa. lii. 12; Iviii. 8. Hos. i. 10, 11. 
 Mic. ii. 12, 13.) But it is certain several of these 
 texts may admit of a different interpretation, and 
 !nay perhaps be only figurative expressions of their 
 being the objects of God's peculiar care and favour. 
 Nevertheless, should these events actually happen, 
 there would be great reason to believe that an all- 
 seeing God, whose work is always actually before 
 him, referred to them in such predictions. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 6. 
 
 A late writer has given it as his opinion, that the 
 Jews shall be restored to their ov. n land, and live 
 for some time in great prosperity there, under the 
 Mosaic economy and law, the Lord being their 
 King, before they become Christians : which he 
 argues, partly from the latter part of the prophecy 
 of Ezckiel, concerning the building of a temple, 
 which must be intended for such a ritual as the 
 Mosaic law appointed, in connexion with several 
 other passages referred to above, predicting the ob- 
 servation of such rites, (compare Zech. xiv. 16.) 
 and partly from the order of the events foretold, 
 Zecli. xii. xiii. But it is answered, 1. That this is 
 in the nature of things improbable. 2. That Eze- 
 kiel's temple may be mystically explained ; or that, 
 even under Christianity, some Jewish rites may in 
 that plac» be restored. 3. That great absurdities 
 would follow, from supposing all the events described 
 in Zech. xii. and xiii. to follow each other in the 
 order there laid down ; and, among the rest, Christ's 
 death would happen, after they had looked to him 
 whom they had pierced. 
 
 Restoration of Jews and Israelites, p. .57. 
 SCHOLIUM 7. 
 
 As for the time when those glorious scenes shall 
 open on the Christian church, commentators and 
 other erilies have been much divided among them- 
 selves. Some passages in the Revelations seem 
 
A COURSK OF LECTURES 
 
 to lix tlic boiritiniiif; of tlicm at tlic clistanoe of 
 12()0 jears from the rise of Antichrist, Rev. xii. 
 6, 14 : xi. 'i, 3. (compare J)an. xii. 7.) but tlie 
 main dilliculty lies in lixing tlie date of that rise. 
 Most Protestant writers liave dated it from tlie year 
 6tH), when Pope Boniface tlie Third assumed the 
 title of (Universal Bishop, conferred upon him by 
 Pliocns, ending A. J). 186G. But Mr. Fleming, and 
 after him Sir Isaac Newton and Mr. Lowman, (ix it 
 about tho middle of the eighth century, A. D. 75G, 
 when Pepin invested Pope Stephen with the tem- 
 poral dominion of Rome and the neighbouring ter- 
 ritories, on the ceasing of the exarchate of Raven- 
 na; which is the more probable, as the other horns 
 mentioned in the context are plainly temporal 
 kingdoms: and as tliis happened nearly 60"6 years 
 after John saw the vision recorded in the Apoca- 
 lypse, A. D. yo. that seems the most probable in- 
 terpretation of the number of the beast. Sir Isaac 
 (after Iren.Tus, 1. v. c. xxx.) refers it to the numeral 
 letters of the word AATEINOS, and the He- 
 
 3nil|nOO|5|IOI50|70|200 
 
 brew n ' 'Din, which do each of them make 
 
 400! lOl )0|4(I|GI200 
 
 666, and supposes that the mark of the beast is the 
 sif/n of the cross. Rev. xiii. ult. On this hypotliesis, 
 that period will end in the year 2016. 
 
 Mr. Maurice dates the rise of the beast from the 
 year 606, (which he supposes was 666 years after 
 the Romans possessed Judea, when the rise of the 
 fourth monarchy there must begin,) and adding to 
 this number the 1260 days, (or years,) v/ith 30 more 
 for the lanyv.ishitig state of the Antichristian glory, 
 and 45 for the pouring out of the vial, which was to 
 be attended with its utter ruin, he fixes the end of 
 this period in the year 1941. (Compare Dan. xii. 7, 
 11, 12.) And, by the way, he observes, that as the 
 Turks ruined the eastern empire, A. D. 1453, and 
 are to continue an hour, a day, a month, and a year, 
 (see Rev. ix. 15.) i. e. according to the Julian reck- 
 oning, 396 years, they .shall fall, A. D. 1819; and 
 that after seventeen years triumph, Antichrist shall 
 come to his end; i. e. begin to fall, A. D. 1KG6; 
 which coincides with the former period, and so 
 confirms it. Compare Dan. xi. 
 
 Maurice's Serm. of Tribes appearing, p. 54. 
 
 ... Mr. Fleming, computing the la.st-mentioned time. 
 Rev. ix. 15. by prophetic years, makes it 391, and 
 refers it to another event, viz. to the taking of Con- 
 stantinople, in the year 1453, which was just that 
 distance of time from the uniting the four Turkish 
 kingdoms under one head. 
 
 Flcm. on the First Resur. p. 136. 
 We shall conclude this scholium with observing. 
 That when three years and a half are supposed 
 equal to 1260 days, it plainly goes upon the sup- 
 position that the prophetic year, which probably was 
 the ancient year, (sec Whist. Theory, 1. ii. p. 144 
 
 182.) consisting of twelve months of 30 days each, 
 i. e. of 360 days, is made use of; — and if it be, the 
 end of the period when Antichrist is to fall should 
 be reckoned by the same year ; which will make an 
 alteration in all the computations above, and will 
 reduce the fall of Antichrist, on Fleming's hypothe- 
 sis, to A. I). 1998, and on the common, to A. D. 
 1818. And if, upon the same iiriiiciples, the 666 
 years be reckoned by prophetical, not Julian, years, 
 it will amount to very little more than 656 Julian ; 
 which, if the above hypothesis be allowed, will fix 
 the date of the Revelations to about the year 100. 
 Newt, on Proph. Pyle on Rev. p. 103. Warb. 
 Serm. vol. iii. No. 2. Holland on Rev.* 
 
 LECTURE CCXXIX. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLXVII. 
 
 To give a summary view of Mr. Lowman's late 
 celebrated and valuable scheme for interpreting the 
 book of the Revelations. 
 
 SOLUTION. 
 
 1. He proves that the seven epistles, contained 
 in the second and third chapters, are not prophetic, 
 but relate to the state and circumstances of tlic 
 seven churches to whom they arc directed, at the 
 time when this book was written. Compare cap. i. 19. 
 
 2. He supposes the remainder of the book to be a 
 prophetical representation of the most remarkable 
 events which were to befall the Christian church, 
 from that time to the consummation of all things; 
 rejecting those schemes, in which, by various fan- 
 ciful synchronisms, the seals, trumpets, and vials 
 are represented and expounded as successive re- 
 presentations of the same event. 
 
 3. He considers the fourth and fifth chapters as 
 only introductory to the prophetic part of the book ; 
 and justly observes, (as Sir Isaac Newton and many 
 other good commentators had done,) that there is in 
 the scenery here, and all along, a beautiful reference 
 to the temple worship. Sir Is. Newton on Proph. 
 
 4. lie divides the remainder into seven periods : 
 the first of which, represented by the seals, shows, 
 according to him, the state of the church under the 
 Heathen Roman emperors, from A. D. 95 — 323 ; 
 and here he more particularly explains the first seal 
 (Rev. vi. 2.) of the triumph of Christianity over Jew- 
 
 * Provision fur the disciisMon of nwny curious qupstions relating: to 
 Antichrist, .in<l tlie accomplishment of other prophecies concernini the 
 Mate of the Christian church, and especially the apostasy of Papal 
 Home, is made by the lecture instituted by Bishop Warlnirton. Three 
 of the principal performances that have appeared in consecpience of lliii 
 institution, are those of Dr. Hurd, Dr. Halifax, and Dr. Il,r,'"l, in their 
 respective voliime.s of sermons, preached at Lincoln's Inn Chapel. 
 Bishop Hurd's hook save rise to a ptihlication, hy Mr. Evanson, the 
 title of which is, A Letter to the Risht Reverend the Lord Bishop of 
 Lichfield and Coventry ; wherein the Importance of the Prophecie« | 
 of the New Testament, and the Nature of the (jrand Aposta.sy predicted 
 ill them, are particularly and impartially considered. 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, ETHICS, AND DIVINITY. 
 
 531 
 
 isli and Heathen oppression ; the second (ver. 3, 4.) 
 of the judgments of God on the Jewish persecutors, 
 under Trajan and Adrian ; the third (ver. 5, 6.) of 
 the famine in the time of the Antonines ; the fourth 
 (ver. 7, 8.) of the pestilence and other calamities 
 which befell the empire, in the reigns of Maximian, 
 Valerian, and the intermediate emperors ; the fifth 
 (ver. 9 — 11.) of the persecution under Dioclcsian, 
 A. D. 270—298; the sixth (ver. 12—17.) of the 
 commotions of the empire from Maximian to Coii- 
 stantine ; the seventh chapter, i. e. the sealing of 
 the 144,000, he interprets of the numerous converts 
 to Christianity, which happened between this and 
 the second period, (vii. 1 — 8.) in the triumphs of 
 which the heavenly world is beautifully represented 
 as rejoicing (vii. 9 — 12.) The seventh seal is ofily 
 introductory to the triimpets. 
 
 5. The second period, which is that of the trum- 
 pets, (cap. viii. ix.) according to Mr. Lowman, re- 
 lates to what was to happen in the Christian church 
 from Constantino, A. D. 337 — 750, when the Ma- 
 hometan conquests ceased in the West. More par- 
 ticularly, the first trumpet, which produced hail and 
 fire, mingled with blood, (cap. viii. 7.) he refers to 
 the bloody wars which happened in Constantine's 
 family, A. D. 337 — 352 ; the second, of the hurnin;/ 
 mountain, (ver. 8, 9.) to the invasion of Italy by the 
 northern nations, and the taking of Rome by Alaric 
 king of the Goths, A. D. 3.59—410 ; the third, of 
 the star of wormwood, (ver. 10, 11.) the succeeding 
 ravages of Italy, and founding the Gothic kingdom 
 there, A. D. 412 — 493 ; the fourth, of darhening the 
 sun, moon, and stars, (ver. 12.) to the wars in Italy 
 between the Goths and Justinian's generals, which 
 ended in erecting the exarchate of Ravenna, A. D. 
 493 — 558 ; the fifth trumpet, of the locusts from the 
 bottomless pit, (ix. 1 — 12.) to the rise and increase of 
 the Mahometan religion and empire, till checked by 
 internal divisions, A. D. .568—675; the sixth, of 
 loosing the four angels and flaming horsemen, (vor. 
 13 — 21.) to the Saracens invading Europe and 
 ravaging it, till their defeat by Charles Martel ; — 
 the seventh trumpet is only introductory to the vials. 
 
 6. The third period, according to him, represents 
 the state of the church and world in the time of the 
 last head of the Roman government, i. e. under the 
 Pope, for 1260 years, viz. from A. D. 7.56—2016. 
 Vid. Prop. 166. Schol. 7. Tliis grand discovery, 
 being introduced by the solemnity of a peculiar 
 message from God by an angel, (cap. x.) is first de- 
 scribed by general representations of the temple, 
 and the witnesses (cap. xi.) ; then of the woman in 
 /he wilderness (cap. xii.) ; then by a monstrous wild 
 beast, signifying the new Roman and persecuting 
 power (cap. xiii.) The xivth chapter is, according 
 to him, an episode, containing strong representa- 
 tions of the happiness of those who should preserve 
 their integrity, and the general purpose of God to 
 
 2 M 2 
 
 bring vengeance in due time upon this wicked and 
 persecuting power. The xvth contains the appear- 
 ance of the seven angels with the vials, and a song 
 of celestial praise on that account. Then follows 
 the pouring out of the vials, (cap. xvi.) each of which 
 he expounds of some great judgment upon the 
 Papal kingdom. The first, (xvi. 1,2.) on the earth, 
 of the wars in the family of Charles the Great, by 
 which it was ruined, A. D. 930 — 988 ; the second, 
 (ver. 3.) on the sea, of the efl'iision of blood in the 
 holy war, A. D. 1040—1190 ; the third, (ver. 4—7.) 
 on the rivers and fountains of water, of the civil 
 wars between the Guelphs and Ghibellins, when the 
 Popes were driven out of Italy, A. D. 1200—1370 ; 
 the fourth, (ver. 8, 9.) on the sun, of the long wars 
 in Italy, Germany, France, and Spain, occasioned 
 by schisms in the popedom, A. D. 1378 — 1530 ; the 
 fifth, (ver. 10, 11.) on the seat of the beast, he ex- 
 plains of the Reformation, A. D. 1560 — 1650 ; the 
 sixth, (ver. 12 — 16.) of drying vp Euphrates, he sup- 
 poses yet to come, and conjectures it may be some 
 invasion of the Pope's dominions from the East; 
 the seventh, (xvi. 17, &c.) of the final destruction of 
 Rome. The following chapters (xvii — xix.) are 
 assurances and descriptions of this final ruin, given 
 by angelic messengers to John, and consist of songs 
 of praise on the occasion ; and in the last, Christ is 
 represented as leading an army out of Heaven to 
 effect this grand event. 
 
 7. The fourth period is that of a thousand years, 
 or the Millennium, in which the church will be in 
 a most prosperous state, A. D. 2000— .3000 ( Prop. 
 165. Schol. 4, .5.); so that, according to him, the 
 seventh chiliad is to be a kird of Sabbath. 
 
 Ainsw. on Gen. i. 31. Burn. Thcorg, p. 209. 
 
 8. The fifth period is the renewed invasion of the 
 enemies of the church, for a short time, not defined, 
 but which is to end in their final extirpation and 
 ruin (cap. xx. 7 — 10.) Compare Prop. 166. yr. 3. 
 
 9. The sixth period is the general resurrection 
 and final judgment, (cap. xx. ver. 11 — 1.5.) which 
 terminate, 
 
 10. In the seventh grand period, in which the 
 saints are represented as fixed in a state of ever- 
 lasting triumph and happiness in the heavenly 
 world (cap. xxi. 1 — 5.) 
 
 11. The conclusion of the book confirms the truth 
 of all, and deduces the grand moral which runs 
 through it, viz. That though the church of Christ is 
 to struggle with great dilliculties, he will support it 
 in the midst of all, and make righteousness and 
 truth finally victorious. 
 
 Pijle's Ded. and Pref. to Rev.* 
 
 * Mr. Dauhuz's book on Uic Itevel.itinns, which was written a con. 
 .sidcrahlc niiiiil)rr of years before tliat of Mr. Lowman, is iiiidrrstood to 
 1)6 a w(trlt of {jfcat leartiin;; and merit. The discussion of several par- 
 ticular points relative to the .Apocalypse may be .seen in the Sermons of 
 Bisho|) Ilnrd and Risliop Hallifax, referre d to in llie last note Mr. 
 Flemin^i's Dissertation on tlie Fall of Antichrist has lately excited 
 extraordinary attention. The whole book of Revelations has bce:i 
 
53-2 
 
 A COURSE OF LECTURES 
 
 SCIIOLU'M I. 
 
 On the whole, it must be acknowledged that tin le 
 is a beautiful resemblance between the prophetic 
 representations, and the events supposed to be cor- 
 respondent to them in many particulars ; and the 
 historical facts are represented with jjrcat Icarnin"; 
 and judj^ment by this excellent author ; yet the 
 correspondence is not in all respects so clear as 
 mi<jht be expected, nor can we sometimes say why 
 those in question are represented by one of tlic 
 emblems, rather than by another. Yet, after all, 
 he has finely illustrated many passages, by similar 
 phrases from the prophetic books of the Old Testa- 
 ment, in which he is quite unequalled ; and has 
 made out so much, especially with respect to the 
 first, and the beginning of the third, period, as evi- 
 dently proves the book to be a glorious conlirmation 
 of Christianity, and well worthy our most attentive 
 study. 
 
 SCHOLU'M 2. 
 
 It is to be observed. That the book of the Reve- 
 lations does not contain a view of things and per- 
 sons rcallij existing, but merely a view of what 
 passed in the imagination of St. John ; in which 
 scene there were plainly some allegorical persons, 
 V. g. the animals, by a mistake called beasts in our 
 translation ; and it is on these principles that the 
 representation of the New Jerusalem, under the 
 figure of a city coming down from God, is to be 
 explained. 
 
 SCHOLIUM 3. 
 
 Dr. Hartley (in his Observations on Man, vol. ii. 
 p. 366) supposes that ull present civil and ecclesi- 
 astical governments will be dissolved ; and that, as 
 other churches have copied after the Babylonish 
 whore, they will in their degree partake in her 
 plagues : and the author of the Critical Notes on 
 some passages of Scripture (printed for Davis, 1747) 
 thinks, that when Babylon shall be brought to utter 
 destruction, that event will be a signal to the ten 
 kingdoms that their dissolution is also approach- 
 ing (Crit. Notes, p. 14, 15). These ten kingdoms 
 he reckons: — 1. Ireland; 2. Great Britain; 3. 
 Germany, south of the Elbe ; 4. France ; 5. Spain ; 
 
 6. Lombardy witli Istria, Sardinia, and Corsica ; 
 
 7. The Pope's patrimony, with Romania and Tus- 
 cany ; 8. The Two Sicilies; 9. Pannonia, or Hun- 
 gary ; and, 10. Illyricum, or Turkey in Europe. 
 Supposing these two circumstances must meet, viz. 
 That the kingdoms must all have made a part of 
 the old Roman empire, and must also have been, 
 for a time, devoted with the rest to the spiritual 
 
 commeDtcd upon by Bisliop Newton, in liis Dissertations on the Pro- 
 pliecies. See the Dissertations, \'olume the tliird, pasaim, or tiic 
 Bisliop's Works, vol. i. p. 533. See also Sir Isaac Newton's Observa- 
 tions upon llie Apocalypse of St. Jolin, annexed to bis Observations 
 upon tlie Prophecies of Daniel, p. 2.1.5. A Commentary on the Kevc- 
 lations has very recently beeo publiabcH by Dr. Johnston, a cler;j:yii]aii 
 of the Church of Scotland. 
 
 power of Rome {ibid. p. 130, 131.) ; but it may seem 
 surprising that reformed countries should be in- 
 volved in the ruin of the church they have reformed 
 from and protested against. Compare Rev. xviii. 
 4. and it is evident that the particular division 
 above is very precarious. 
 
 Newton on Proph. part i. c. vi. 
 
 LECTURE CCXXX. 
 
 PROPOSITION CLXVUI. 
 Christianity is not only attended with such ex- 
 ternal evidences as are represented in the former 
 part of this work, but with considerable degrees of 
 internal evidence. Vid. Def. 70. Compare Prop. 
 95. 
 
 DEMONSTRATION. 
 
 Prop. 95. gr. 1 . 1 . The most considerable doc- 
 trines of natural religion are so far from being con- 
 tradicted, that they are established, by the Gospel ; 
 particularly those which relate to the being, per- 
 fections, and attributes of God, his universal pro- 
 vidence, government, and a future state of rewards 
 and punishments. Prop. 95. gr. I . 
 
 Ibid.gr. 6. 2. The most important branches of 
 those duties which we owe to God, our fellow- 
 creatures, and ourselves, are plainly described and 
 inculcated in the precepts of the Gospel. Ibid, 
 gr. 6. 
 
 Prop. 96. Cor. 3. The ceremonial observances 
 instituted in the Gospel are but few ; and those 
 evidently calculated to answer the great ends of 
 practical religion. 
 
 Pi-op. 95. gr. 2. 4. The Gospel discovers to us 
 many particulars, of which the evidence on the 
 principles of natural religion was dubious, and 
 w hich a fallen creature might greatly and painfully 
 doubt of ; particularly the pardon of sin, however 
 aggravated, on sincere repentance, and a state of 
 complete and eternal glory reserved for all that are 
 sincerely virtuous, notwithstandin-g the imperfection 
 of their present attainments, while it threatens to 
 the vicious and impenitent final and everlasting 
 punishment. 
 
 Amory on Christ the Light of the World. 
 
 Ibid. gr. 3, 6. 5. The Gospel discovers a rich 
 variety of truths, relating both to Christ and the 
 Holy Spirit, which by the light of nature alone we 
 could not possibly have found out ; but which, 
 when they are known, tend greatly to encourage 
 the mind, and .strike in a very powerful manner on 
 those principles of gratitude which arc the noblest 
 sources of genuine and acceptable obedience. 
 
 Ibid. gr. 7. 6. As the apparent end of all is to 
 promote virtue in general, so it is ob.servable that 
 
ON PNEUMATOLOGY, J 
 
 this scheme of salvation, by faith in Christ, and 
 through the free grace of God iu him, together « itli 
 what relates to the influence of the Divine Spirit 
 upon our souls, has the most admirable tendency 
 to promote humility, representing us as ignorant 
 and guilty, polluted and enslaved. 1 Cor. i. 30. 
 
 Chandl. Posth. Serm. vol. i. 
 
 Ibid. ijr. 4, 5. 7. It further appears, from a sur- 
 vey of the foregoing heads, that though many things 
 yet remain mysterious and obscure, — yet those in 
 w hich the regulation of our tempers and practice is 
 most immediately concerned, are so plain as to ad- 
 rait of very little dispute. 
 
 1, 2, 3, 4, bi 6, 7. 8. Valet propositio. 
 
 Baxt. Reas. of Chris. Reynolds to a Deist.* 
 COROLLARY 1. 
 
 Hence it evidently appears that they do much 
 mistake the nature and design of Christianity, who 
 represent it as merely a republication of the religion 
 of nature. Warhurton's Divine Leg. vol. i. 
 
 COROLLARY 2. 
 
 It further appears, that we have great reason to 
 bless God for a revelation, attended with so many 
 important circumstances, and so excellently adapt- 
 ed to answer the necessities of mankind. Matt, 
 xiii. 16, 17. 
 
 COROLLARY 3. 
 
 We may further argue, that an attentive study of 
 the Scriptures, and especially of the New Testa- 
 ment, may be an excellent mean of establishing 
 our faith in the Scripture revelation. Acts xx. Wi. 
 
 COROLLARY 4. 
 
 It appears from hence, that we .shall serve the 
 cause of virtue and piety in the world, by endea- 
 vouring all we can to establish the character and 
 reputation of the New Testament ; and that those 
 
 * Tlie subject of flie internal evidence of Cliristianity occurs, more 
 or less, in most of the general treatises on the divine authority of mir 
 holy religion. To this head also may he referred Dr. Ben.wn's Hi-torv 
 of the Ljfi> of Jcsns Christ, and Dr. Craig's lissay on the Life of Jesus 
 rhiisl. Bi>h'i|i Newcome's Ohservations on our Lord's Conduct is a 
 Divine Instructor, and on the Excellence of his Moral Character, eouie 
 under the same class. Direct publications on the subject are Mr 
 Siiauie Jenyns's View of the Internal Evidence of Christian Religion- 
 Dr. Maclaine s Series of Letters, addressed to Soame Jcnyns Esq on 
 Occasion of his View of the Internal Kvi.lences of Christianity Mr 
 Tonlman's Dissertations on the Internal Evidences and Excellence of 
 Chrislianity, and on the Character of Christ, coranared with that of 
 some other celebrated Founders of Reli-ion and Plillosopby ; and IMr 
 Gilbert Make(ield-s Remarks on the Internal Evidences of the Chris, 
 tian UeliKion. Two addilional books, of singular meiit, are Dr 
 r.u Arguments for the Triilhand Divine Authority 
 
 of the Christian RcligioD; and Archdeacon Paley's Hora Paulina 
 
 rHICS, AND DIVINITY. 633 
 
 schemes which would represent the writings of the 
 apostles, as merely their own private opinions, or 
 the relations concerning Christ, as liable to the 
 common imperfections which attend well-meant re- 
 ports of long-distant facts, must be very prejudicial 
 to Christianity, and of practical religion, so nearly 
 connected with it. Chub's true Gosp. 
 
 COROLLARY 5. 
 
 It is highly proper that the peculiarities of the Gos- 
 pel scheme should be much insisted upon by Chris- 
 tian preachers ; which may also further be argued 
 from the pomp of miracles, by which this revelation 
 was introduced into the world, and which must have 
 appeared unworthy the Divine Wisdom and Majes- 
 ty, if those things which were peculiar to it are of 
 so little importance as many seem to suppose. Heb. 
 ii. 3, 4. Watts's Redeemer, Sf-c. Jennintjs on Christ. 
 
 COROLLARY 6. 
 
 It is of the highest importance to fall in with the 
 practical design of the Gospel, and always to con- 
 sider and represent it, not merely as an object of 
 amusement and speculation, but as a system of 
 truths intended to .sar^ctify the heart, and to regu- 
 late the life, and thereby to train us up for the com- 
 plete happiness of a future state. Matt. vii. 24 — 
 27. John xiii. 17. 
 
 COROLLARY 7. 
 
 They w ho have experimentally felt the power of 
 the Gospel on their hearts, will have an additional 
 evidence to confirm their faith, in proportion to the 
 degree that its ellicaey has prevailed. .John vii. 17. 
 1 John v. 10. 
 
 Watts's Ser. vol. i., Boyse's 2 Serm. on 1 John 
 V. 10. 
 
 COROLLARY 8. 
 
 It follows from all, that to cultivate a devotional 
 temper, and study as much as possible to enter into 
 the spirit of the Gospel, and to conform eveiy action 
 and every .sentiment to the tenor of it, must be one 
 of the most impoitant branches of a proper furni- 
 ture and preparation for the ministerial work ; — and 
 God grant this remark may be deeply fixed on the 
 memories and hearts of all who have .studied this 
 various course of Theological Lectures, whatever 
 else be disputed or forgotten ! 
 
 Watts's Hum. Attempt. Somes for reviv. Relig. 
 
 E5 avTH, Kut avTH, Kai tip avTOV ra iravra. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 NUMBER I. 
 
 Additional References. From the Jirst part of Mr. 
 Merivalc's copy. 
 
 Definit. iii. Corol. 2. Kin<;'s Origin of Evil, part 
 3. No. 1. Baxter on the Soul, vol. i. iv. 22. 
 
 Axiom ii. Colliher on Souls, ]). 3. 
 
 Definit. v. Scliol. 1. Locke's Essay, L. ii. c. xix. 
 ^ 4, srib fin. Collil). Inq. p. 272, 273. 
 
 Mrs. Cockburn's Works, vol. i. p. 395 — 399. Jack- 
 son on Matt, and Spirit, Pref. p. 7, note. Re- 
 pub, of Lett. vol. XV. p. 100. 
 
 Axiom iii. Corol. Pope's Essay on Man, Ep. i. 
 ver. 267 — 280. Blount's Anima Mundi, jmss. 
 
 Axiom iv. Locke 2. xxi. 5. 
 
 Corol. 1. Baxter on the Soul, vol. i. ii. 27. 
 
 Delinit. x. King's Origin of Evil, p. 211, Sec. No. 
 43. 
 
 Corol. 2. Baxter on the Soul, vol. i. p. 256, 257. 
 Definit. xii. Locke's Essay, L. ii. e. xx. § 1, 2. 
 Definit. xiii. Prop. i. Solut. 1. CoUib. Free 
 
 Thoughts on Souls, Essay i. § 7,8, 11. Berkley's 
 
 Siris, ^ 303. 
 
 Hutches.' on Pass. Pref. p. 10, 11. Treatise, 1—6. 
 
 with tlic note ; Elssay on Spirit, § 13 — 21. 
 Gr. 2. Milton's Par. Lost, v. ver. 100—108. 
 
 Search's Light of Nat. vol. i. c. xii. § 1 — 9. 
 
 Harris's Hermes, p. .Orj — 74. Collib. on Souls, i. 
 
 9. Watts's Essay, iii. § 13. 
 Demonstrat. Hutch. Mor. Phil. b. i. c. i. Hartley 
 
 on Man, vol. i. Introd. 
 Corol. 2. Law's Tlieory of Rclig. p. G— 13. 
 Schol. 2. Searcli's Light of Nat. vol. i. c. xx. § 4. 
 
 Glanville, Essay i. p. 4, 5. 
 Schol. 3. Medical Essays, vol. iv. p. 172—184. 
 
 Essay on Spirit, § 22, 23. Kaims's Elements of 
 
 Crit. vol. ii. Append. % 8. 
 Scliol. 4. Elements of Crit. vol. ii. Append. 5) 
 
 37-^2. 
 
 Lect. iii. Prop. ii. Solut. gr. 1. Collib. on Souls, 
 Essay ii. § 1. Balguy's Serm. No. 18. p. 3.55, 356. 
 
 Gr. 2. Balguy's Serm. No. 18. p. 3.57, 358. Col- 
 liber on Souls, Essay ii. ^ 2. Matho, v. 1. Con- 
 fer. 6. % 80. 
 
 Gr. 6. Hume's Phil. Essays, No. 9. Search's 
 Light of Nat. vol. i. c. xii. § 10. Colliber on 
 Souls, Essay ii. ^ 4. 
 
 Corel. 1. Cheyne's PhiL Princ. c. ii. § 11. Watts's 
 Phil. Essays, ix. 7. 
 
 Corol. 2. Cicero de Nat. Deo. L. ii. c. Iviii — Ixi. 
 Lect. iv. Prop. iii. Solut. gr. 1. Hartley on Man, 
 
 vol. i. c. ii. § 1 — 6. — Gr. 2. Grove Eth. part ii. 1 ; 
 
 vii. 2.— Gr. 3. Clerici Pneumat. 1. vii. 10.— Gr. 4. 
 
 Milt. Par. Lost, b. v. ver. 100—113. Hartley on 
 
 Man, vol. i. Prop. 91. — Gr. 5. Adventurer, vol. iii. 
 
 No. 88.— Gr. G. Locke's Cond. of the Under. §43. 
 
 Vind. Mentis, p. 130—133. 
 Corol. 1. Grove's Serm. vol. i. p. 209— 211, 
 Lect. V. Prop. iii. Schol. 1. Essay on Spirit, §25, 
 
 26. Dissertation on Genius, ap. Month. Rev. 
 
 vol. xii. p. 83. Schol. 2. Hallet on Script, vol. i. 
 
 p. 39 — 49. Sauriu's Diss. vol. ii. p. 627. Collib. 
 
 Essays, i. § 1. 
 Prop. iv. Schol. 1. Colliber on Souls, Essay i. §3. 
 Prop. V. Demonst. gr. 6. Ramsay's Princ. vol. 1. 
 
 p. 36. 
 
 Schol. 4. Rcid on the Human Mind, c. vi. § 3, 9. 
 Price on Morals, p. 50, 51, note. Cheseld. Anat. 
 p. 300—304. 
 
 Prop. vi. Scliol. 1. Law's Theory of Relig. p. 8, 
 
 he. Shaftesbury's Let. to a Student, L. 8. 
 Schol. 2. Hume's Phil. Essays, No. 2. 
 Gr. 4. Rollin's Manier, &c. p. 277. 
 Gr. 9. Rollin's ditto, p. 281. 
 Schol. 1. Watts's Imp. of the Mind, p. 270—280. 
 Schol. 2. Watts's ditto, p. 287. 
 Schol. 3. Cambr. Exist. § 48, 49. p. 80—85. 
 Schol. 4. Elcm. of Critic, vol. i. c. i. p. 15—20,30. 
 Prop. viii. Solut. gr. 1. Melmoth's Plin. v. l.b. 6. 
 
 Ep. 11, note. Rollin's B. Lett. p. 244—247. 
 Gr. 5. Watt's Imp. of Mind, p. 2,55, 2.57. Baxter 
 
 on the Soul, v. 13. Camb. Educ. dcs Filles, p. 
 
 25, 26. 
 
 Lect. ix. Demonst. gr. 3. Colliber on the Soul, 
 Essay i. § 9. Clerici Pneum. 1. iv. 8 — 17. Hart- 
 ley on Man, vol. i. c. iii. § 4. 
 
 Prop. ix. Scliol. Elcm. of Crit. vol. i. c. 9. 
 
 Definit. xvii. Night Thoughts, p. 34. Watts's 
 Ontol. c. 4, and 12. Hermes, p. 104 — 114. 
 
 Corol. 1. Malebr. i. viii. 2. Elem. of Criticism, 
 V. i. c. 2. App. 
 
 Definit. xviii. Roh. Phys. i. x. 15 — 43. 
 
 Prop. xi. Solut. gr. 3. Cliaracterist. v. ii. p. 3.50 — 
 .3,'j2 ; v. iii. p. 192 — 194. Kaims's Princ. of Mor. 
 P. 2. Ess. 2. 
 
 Prop. xii. Schol. Fordyce on Educ. vol. ii. Dial. 
 16. 
 
 Prop. xiii. Solut. gr. 1. Hartley on Man, vol. i.- 
 c. iv. Search's Liglit of Nat. vol. i. c. xxi. 
 Grove's Mor. Phil. vol. i. p. 2. § 1. c. 8, 9, 10. 
 
 Definit. xix. Corol. 1. Elements of Criticism, vol. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 .036 
 
 i. p. 4.3, 44. Baxt. W. vol. i. p. 379. Piel. Disc. 
 
 to King's Orio-. of Evil, p. 88, third edit. p. 79, 
 ' fourth edit. Guard, vol. ii. No. 126—150. Mores 
 
 Immort. of Soul, 3. xiii. 9. 
 Prop. XV. Corol. 1. Fiddes on Mor. Vir. xvi. 7 — 
 
 11. 
 
 Corol. Fiddes ditto, c. 16. § 2. 
 
 Schol. 1. Pope's Essay on Crit. v. 5.3 — 60. Essay 
 
 on Gen. of Pope, p. 115 — 118. Watts's Imp. of 
 
 Mind, p. 247—2.54. 
 Schol. 3. Spectator, vol. 6. No. 447. Willis de 
 
 Anima Brut. p. 163, 164. 
 Definit. xxi. Scliol. Conyb. against Tyud. p. 75. 
 Definit. xxii. King on Orig. of Evil, No. 61. 
 Corol. 1. Hartley on Man, vol. i. p. 500, 501. 
 
 Grove on Lib. ^ 10. 
 Definit. xxiii. Grove on Lib. § 8. Law's Notes on 
 
 King, No. 61. Kaims's Essay on Lib. p. 132 — 
 
 136. 
 
 Schol. Search on Free Will, &c. p. 1 — 71. 
 Definit. xxiv. Post, on Nat. Rel. Add. Dis. i. 
 Prop. xv i. Dem. gr. 2. Leibn. Theod. § 75. — Gr. 5. 
 
 Clarke (not at B. L. but) against Collins, p. 42 — 
 
 44. 
 
 Schol. 1. Law's Theor. p. 9 — 11, note. 
 
 Schol. 3. Leibn. Thcod. ^ 67—72. 
 
 Schol. 5. Clarke's Rem. on Collins, p. 31—37. 
 
 Schol. 6. King's Orig. of Evil, p. 172 — 184. Syden. 
 
 Vers, of the Lesser Hippias, Arg. p. 6 — 9, p. 71, 
 
 72. note. 
 
 Schol. 8. Sterry on Free Will. West. Serms. No. 
 3. p. 78—80. Nye on Nat. and Kev. Rel. p. 65— 
 6b. Turretin's Disc. Thcol. No. 7. Ramsay's 
 Phil. Princ. vol. i. Prop. 36. Search on Free 
 Will, 5: .36 — 42. Duchal's Sermons, vol. i. p. 
 163—166. Edwards on Free Will. 
 
 Prop. xvii. Schol. 1. Law's Theor. p. 1.5 — 17, note 
 
 , M. 
 
 Prop, xviii. Demonst. gr. 1. Glanville's P. Ess. i. 
 
 p. 1, 927. Branch on Dreaming. — Gr. 2. Glanv. 
 
 ditto, p. .3— 6.— Gr. 3. Glanville's ditto, p. 7 — 10. 
 Part ii. Axiom ix. Beattie on Truth, ii. 5. p. 100 — 
 
 111. 
 
 Definit. xxviii. King's Orig. of Evil, p. 18, 19. 
 No. 4. 
 
 Schol. King's Orig. of- Evil, p. 67 -71. 
 Corol. 7. King's Orig. of Evil, p. 42, 43. No. 10, 
 58, 59. 
 
 Definit. xxviii. Sehol. 2. King's ditto, p. 14, 89, 
 
 90. Ramsay's Princ. Pr. 4. 
 Prop. XX. Demonst. Rams. Princ. Pr. 1. 
 Prop. xxi. Demon.st. Arg. 1. Coilib. on^Souls, Ess. 
 
 V. § 1. Arg. 6.— Ar». 2. Coilib. ib. Arg. 1.— Arg. 
 
 3. Coilib. ib. Arg. 2.— Arg. 6. Watts's E.ss. 
 
 No. 10. 5, 2. p. 2.56— 290.— Arg. 8. Coilib. ib. Ess. 
 
 5. Arg. .3.— Arg. ID. Coilib. ib. Arg. 4. 
 Lect. xxvi. Schol. 1 . Burthogge on the Soul of the 
 
 World, p. .30— .38. 
 Schol. 3. Coilib. ib. Arg. 5. 
 Schol. 4. Ramsay's Princ. Prop. 17. 
 Prop, xxiii. Schol. Musch. Nat. Phil. c. iii. ^ 81 — 
 
 86. 
 
 Axiom X. Baxter on the Soul, v. 1. v. 2. 
 Corol. Baxt. ib. v. 3. 
 
 Prop. xxiv. Schol. I. Nye on Nat. Rel. p. .37, .38. 
 Schol. 3. Sterne's Post. W. vol i. p. 99. 
 Prop. xxvi. Definit. xxx. Cudw. Intel. System, c. 
 iv. p. 207. 
 
 Prop, xxvii. Demonst. i. Night Thoughts, vol. ii. 
 p. 196—198. No. 9. 
 
 Corol. 2. Grov. P. W. vol. iv. p. 7. 
 Demonst. ii. Spect. vol. v. No. 389. 
 Lect. xxx. Demonst. iii. 97. Abernethy on the 
 
 Attr. vol. i. Ser. 2. 
 Schol. 1. Ramsay's Cyrus, B. 2. TZoroaster's 1st 
 
 Disc.) 
 
 Schol. 2. Move's Div. Dial. No. 2. § 4—14. 
 Schol. 3. Derh. Phys. Theol. b. v. c. i. p. 261—265. 
 Prop, xxvii. Demonst. iii. gr. 2. Abernethy on the 
 
 Attr. vol. i. p. 18, 19.— Gr. 8. Abern. ib. p. 20—25. 
 Demonst. iv. Lem. gr. 1. Bentl. ib. s. 7. p. 241, 
 
 212, and aj2.— Gr. 4. Coilib. ib. 147.— Gr. 8. 
 
 Scott's Christian Life, vol. 2. p. 228, 229. 
 Prop, xxviii. Solut. gr. 1. King's Orig. of Evil, 
 
 p. 49, 50. No. 11. 
 Schol. 3. Knight v. B. and Attr. of God, p. 10—15. 
 Prop. xxix. Schol. 5. Bentle}' against Collins on 
 
 Free-Thinking, p. 77—82. 
 Prop. xxx. Cor. Harris. Herm. p. 359, &c. n. a. 
 Schol. Burn, on the Art. p. 19, 20. Ramsay's 
 
 Cyrus, No. 2. p. 33, 34. Rams. Princ. Pr. 7. 
 
 King's Orig. of Evil, p. 60—66. Cudw. Intel. 
 
 Syst. p 644, &c. Fost. on Nat. Rel. vol. i. p. 35, 
 
 36. Grove's P. W. vol. i. p. 147, 148. Boeth. 
 
 dc Cons. Phil. v. 6. 
 Prop. xxxi. Corol. Rams. Princ. Pr. 15. 
 Schol. 3. Coilib. on the Soul, Ess. v. § 2—4. 
 
 Rams. Princ. vol. i. Prop. 14. 
 Schol. 4. Tillot. vol. ii. p. 742—744. 
 Prop, xxxii. Demonst. i. gr. 7. Hume's Ess. vii. 
 
 p. 113—118. Thoms. Spring, ver. 346—360. 
 
 Price's Four Diss. No. 1. ^ 1,2. 
 Corol. 1. Browne's Rel. Med. p. 15. Whist. Theor. 
 
 p. 436. 
 
 Corol. 2. Price's Diss. p. 8 — 11. Fitzosb. Let. 
 No. 8. 
 
 Corol. 4. Rams. Princ. p. 381—384. 
 
 Corol. 5. Price's Four Diss. p. 47 — 50, note. 
 
 Schol. 4. Price's Four Diss. p. 48 — 53. Ram.S, 
 
 Princ. Prop. 19. 
 Prop, xxxiii. Demonst. iii. Fost. on Nat. Rcl. p. 
 
 61— ()9. 
 
 Schol. Xenoph. Memorab. 4. 19. 
 Corol. 2. Hcrv. Mcdit. vol. ii. p. 23 — 25. 
 Definit. xxxii. Watts's Ess. p. 16.0, 166. 
 Prop, xxxiv. Demonst. Fost. on Nat. Rel. vol. i. 
 p. 55 — .07. 
 
 Prop. XXXV. Demonst. Search on Free Will, &c. 
 
 ^ 23—31. Fo.ster on Nat. Rel. vol. i. p. 60—74. 
 Schol. 2. West's Serm. No. 3. p. 71—75. Rams. 
 
 Princ. Prop. 23. I>octh. de Consol. Phil. L. 
 
 .5. Law on King's Orig. of Evil, No. 100. Hart- 
 ley on Man, vol. ii. Pr. 16. Foster on Nat. Rclig. 
 
 vol. i. p. 72—74. 
 Schol. 5. Leibn. Theod. ^ 39 — 47. 
 Prop, xxxvi. Dem. gr. 7. West's Serm. No. 2. 
 Schol. Grove on Wisd. p. 21—23. 
 Prop, xxxvii. Dem. Hart, on Man, Prop. 9. 
 Schol. Collil). Inq. p. 44 — 48. 
 Prop, xxxviii. Schol. Grove on Wisd. p. 18 — 20. 
 Prop, xxxix. Demonst. gr. 8. Clarke's P. Serm. 
 
 vol. i. p. 29. Grove P. W. vol. iv. p. 20, 21. 
 
 Alhenag. ap. Unit. Tract, vol. iii. No. 4. p. .36. 
 Schol. .3. Hist, of W. of Learn, pr. Sept. and Dec. 
 
 17.3f>. Art 13 and 30. Foster on Nat. Rcl. vol. i. 
 
 p. 42, 43. Clcrici Pneum. 3. x. 4 — 6. 
 Schol. 4. Nye on Nat. and Rev. Rel. p. 40 — 42. 
 Schol. 7. Leiand on i{evel. vol. i. c. 8, 9. 
 Prop. xl. Schol. 9. Mrs. Cockburn's Works, vol. i. 
 
 p. 388—140 ; pr;es. 390—392. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Prop. xli. Dcmonst. gr. 3. Post, on Nat. Rel. p. 
 50, 51. 
 
 Scliol. 1. Locke 4. x. 18, 19. Collib. on Cieat. 
 § '2—1. 
 
 Sciiol. -2. Fool of Qualify, vol. i. p. 82. 
 Appendix on Hciklcv's Scheme. Rams. Prin. 
 
 Prop. 31. and 37. Heid on the Human Mind, 
 
 (e. 5. § 87, 88.) 
 Part, iii.' Del", xxxvi. Cor. Post. Serm. vol. i. p. 
 
 5—8 ; vol. ii. p. 105, 106. Price on Mor. p. 59, 
 
 77. 
 
 Schol. Price on Mor. p. 29(5, 306. Hutch. Syst. 
 
 of Mor. Phil. 1. v. 6 — 8. — Axiom xv. Price on 
 
 Mor. p. 90—99. 
 Schol. 2. Price on Mor. p. 99—103. 
 Delinit. xxxvii. Price on Mor. p. 181 — 206. 
 Dcdnit. xxxviii. Elements of Crit. v. 1. 2. I. § 1. 
 
 J). 64—66. 
 Schol. 1. Price on Mor. p. 77 — 83. 
 Schol. 2. Price on Mor. p. 145—148. 
 Schol. 6. Conybeare apainst Tynd. p. 55 — 72. 
 
 Adamson's Nat. and Obligt. of Moral Virtue. 
 
 Taylor's Sketch. Balguy on Moral Goodness, p. 
 
 41, 42. 
 
 Definit. xxxix. Grove on Wisd. p. 39. 
 
 Gr. 8. Price on Mor. p. 427, 430. 
 
 Corol. 1. Price ib. p. 44.5—149. 
 
 Corol. 2. Price ib. p. 2.54—258. Protest. Sys- 
 tem, vol. ii. p. 4.54 — 465. Conyb. on Rev. Rel. 
 p. 55 — 72. Watts on Self-Love and Virtue, 
 pass. 
 
 Schol. Price on Mor. p. 430 — 435. 
 
 Definit. xl. Hart, on Man, vol. ii. p. 23 — 26. 
 
 Prop. xlv. Dcmonst. Hartley on Man, vol. ii. Prop. 
 
 4. Rams. Princ. vol. i. Prop. 24, 25. Hutch. 
 
 Syst. v. 1. ix. 5, 6, 10—14. 
 Schol. 1. Priestley on Educ. p. 169— 171. King's 
 
 Origin of Evil, c. 4. 5i 6. p. 419—424. 
 Sehol. 2. King's Orig. of Evil, p. 41 1 — 414, No. 80. 
 
 421 — 126. No. 82. 
 Sclml. 3. King's Origin of Evil, p. 110 — 11.5, note. 
 
 Jcnyns's Let. on Orig. of Evil, No. 1 — 4. 
 Schol. 4. King, ib. p. 107—110, note 19. and 396, 
 
 Ike. note 79. 
 Schol. :j. King, ib. p. 432—4.37. 
 Schol. 6. Price on Mor. p. 104 — 109. 
 Schol. 9. gr. 4. Balguy's Law of Truth, Supple- 
 ment. Price, ib. p. 4.3.5 — 4'15. 
 Prop. xlvi. Demonst. Grove P. W. vol. i. p. 141 
 
 —156. 
 
 Corol. 2. Grove P. W. vol. i. p. 1.57—160. 
 Prop, xlvii. Schol. 1. Mrs. Cockb. Works, vol. ii. 
 p. 288, 289. 
 
 Schol. 2. Collins's Vind. of Div. Attr. in Answer 
 to King. Gr. 2. Brown's Ess. on Char. ii. 2. p. 
 112—123. 
 
 Prop, xlviii. Demon.st. gr. 1. Hutch, on Pass. ii. 
 
 2. Price on Mor. p. 179—181 , 21.5—226. 
 ' End of Lcct. Ix. Taylor's Examinat. of Hutch. 
 
 pass. Price, ib. p. 116 — 122. 
 Lecf. Ixi. gr. 4. Convb. against Tynd. p. 142 — 144. 
 
 Gr. 7. Watcrl. P. "S. vol. i. No. 3. Rutherf. Ess. 
 
 on Moral Virtue, p. 1.5.3 — 167. Mrs. Cockburn's 
 
 Works, vol. ii. p. 7 — 12. 
 Prop. xlix. Solut. gr. 2. Price on Mort. p. .320 — 
 
 332.— Gr. 4. Hartley on Man, Prop. 14. 1.5. 
 
 Price on Mor. 31.5 — 319. — (ir. 5. Price on Mor. 
 
 .332— 336.— Gr. 6. Filzosborne's Let. No. 18. 
 
 Price on Mor. p. 336 — ^11. — Gr. 7. Norris's Misc. 
 
 p. 49— 51, 
 
 Corol. 1. Hutch. System of Moral Phil. b. ii. c. I 
 
 2. Price on Mor. p. 341—345. 
 Schol. 2. Price ib. p. 349—368. 
 Prop. 1. Demonst. gr. 7. Burn. Serm. vol. ii. No. 13. 
 Schol. 1. Price on Mor. p. 240 — 249. Hutch. 
 
 Sy.st. of Moral Phil. b. i. c. 10. 
 Corol. 3. Cicero de Div. L. 2. p. 234, 5. 
 Corol. 6. Night Thoughts, No. 8. vol. ii. p. 103, 
 
 104. Price on Mor. p. 249—254. 
 Prop. li. Demonst. gr. 6. Foster's Disc. vol. ii. p. 
 
 8—12. Grove's Mor. Phil. v. ii. ^ 3. c. 18. Price 
 
 on Mor. p. 263—265. Pope's Essay on Man, 
 
 Essay 3. 
 
 Schol. Elements of Crit. vol. i. p. 44 — 48. Price , 
 
 on Mor. p. 126—129. Hutch. Syst. of Moral 
 
 Phil. i. 3. pass. Wesley's Let. to the Bp. of 
 
 Gloucester, p. 37. 
 Prop. lii. Schol. 1. Hutch. System, 2. vi. 4. 
 
 Grove's Moral. Phil. vol. ii. p. 385—387. Cheyne 
 
 on Regimen, p. 53 — 63. Disc. i. 
 Schol. 2. Adventurer, No. 5 and 37. 
 Prop. liii. Demonst. Grove's Moral Phil. vol. 2. p. 
 
 88 — 92. Various Prosp. of Mankind, &c. No. 2. 
 
 Hutch. Sv.st. 2. V. 6, 7. 
 Schol. 1. Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 407, 408. 
 Schol. 2. Hutch. Syst. 2. vii. 5. 
 Corol. 1. Lect. Ixviii. 
 
 Prop. liv. Demonst. Highmore's Essays, vol. i. p. 
 
 1—10. Price on Mor. p. 266—270. 
 Corol. 1. Hutch. Syst. 2. x. 4. v. 2. p. 95—98. 
 Schol. 2. Saurin's Disc. vol. i. p. 306— 308 ; vol. 
 
 iv. p. .322 — 346. Highmore's Essays, vol. i. p. 10 
 
 —36. Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 2. c. ii. §5—11. 
 
 Hutch. Syst. 2. xvii. 5—9. 
 Schol. 3. Hutch. 2. x. 4. Highm. ib. p. 37—68. 
 
 Collier's Essays, vol. iv. No. 4. 
 Prop. Iv. Demonst. Price on Mor. p. 270, 273. 
 Schol. 3. Hutch. Syst. 2. ix. 
 Definit. xlvi. Corol. Hutch. Syst. 2. xi. 2. 
 Prop. hi. Corol. 1. Whist. Memoirs, vol. i. p. 411, 
 
 413. Hutch, ib.2. xi. 1. 
 Schol. 1. Confessional, /»fl«*(w?. 
 Schol. 2. Hutch. Syst. 2. xi. 3, 4. Shakspeare's 
 
 Henry the Sixth, P. 2. Act 5. Sc. 4. 
 Prop. Ivii. Demon. Grov. Eth. vol. ii. p. 470 — 472. 
 
 Hutch. Syst. 3. i. 2, 3. v. 2, p. 150—155. 
 Corol. 1. Hutch, ib. p. 176. 
 
 Corol. 2. Grove, ib. p. 480—482. Hutch, ib. § 4. 
 
 Guardian, vol. i. No. 17. Fielding's Tom Jones, 
 
 b. 1. c. 7. 
 Corol. 3. Hutch, vol. ii. p. 42, 43. 
 Corol. 4. Hutch, ib. § 6. 
 
 Prop. Iviii. Demonst. Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 482, 
 
 484. Hutch. Sy.st. 3. i. 7. 
 Prop. lix. Demonst. gr. 1. Hippesley's Essay on 
 
 the Popul. of Afiica. — Gr. 8. Hutch. Syst. vol, 
 
 ii. p. 160, 161. 
 Part ii. Demonst. Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 472 — 477. 
 Prop. Ix. Demonst. Hutch. Syst. 3. i. 8—10. 
 
 Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 487,489. Fry's Case of 
 
 Marriages. 
 
 Prop. Ixi. Solut. Spirit of Laws, xvi. 15, 16. 
 Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 477 — 480. Hutch. Syst. 
 3. i. 11, 12. 
 
 Corol. Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 485 — 487. Hutch. 
 
 Syst. 3. i. 13. 
 Prop. Ixii. Dcmonst. Hutch. Syst. v. 2, 3. ii. 1. 
 
 Grove's Moral Pliil. b. ii. p. 491—498. 
 Schol. 1. Grove, ib. p. 498— .500. 
 Schol. 3. Judge Hale, p. 105, 
 
 I 
 
CATALOGUE, 8cc. 
 
 537 
 
 Axiom xvii. Corol. Hutch. Syst. 2. v. 6. Price 
 
 on Mor. p. 265, 266. 
 Prop. Ixiii. Demon. Hutch. Syst. v. 2. p. 189, 
 
 194—196. Grove's Mor. Phil. vol. ii. p. 530,503. 
 Corol. 5. Post. Disc. vol. ii. p. 97—102. 
 Sehol. 1. Hutch, ib. v. 2, 3. ii. 2. Post. Disc. 
 
 p. 95—97. 
 
 Schol. 3. Grove's Mor. Phil. vol. ii. p. 503—505. 
 Schol. 5. 
 
 Prop. Ixiv. Dcmonst. Hutch. Syst. 2. iv. and 3. 
 
 iv. Grove's Eth. vol. ii. p. 515 — 547. 
 Definit. liv. Hutch. Syst. 3. vi. 1, 2. Spirit of 
 
 Laws, b. ii. 
 
 Prop. Ixv. Solut. gr. 7. Hutch. Syst. v. 2, 3. v. 
 Prop. Ixvi. Confut. gr. 6. Grove's Misc. p. 42—62. 
 Schol. Hutch. Syst. 3. viii. 3, 9—11. 
 
 NUMBER II. 
 
 Books, a Reference to which has been omitted, or 
 which have been so recent!)/ published, that they 
 could not be referred to in their proper places. 
 
 Amnf.r on Daniel's Prophecies 
 Asiatic Researches 
 
 Beattie's Evidences of the Christian Kelisioii 
 Bennet's Divine Revelation, impartial and universal 
 Blair on the Canon of Scripture 
 
 Bryant on the Plagues of Egypt 
 Churton on Prophecy 
 
 Dunbar's Essays on the History of Mankind in rude 
 
 and cultivated Ages 
 Freedom of Human Actions 
 Gray's Key to the Old Testament 
 Hamilton's Attempt « priori 
 Holmes's Eight Sermons on Prophecy 
 Maurice's Indian Antiquities 
 Milway's Grounds of Christianity 
 Moore's External Evidence 
 Paley's View of the Evidences of Christianity 
 Palmer's (S.) Sermons on Truth 
 Parr's Sermon in Defence of Christianity 
 Pearce's (Bp.) Commentary and Dissertations 
 Priestley's Sermons on the Evidence of Revelation 
 Randolph's Prophecies, and other Texts cited in 
 
 the New Testament, compared with the Hebrew 
 
 Original and the Syriac Version 
 Seven Prophetical Periods 
 Shepherd's Grounds of the Christian Religion 
 Simpson's Essay to show that Christianity is best 
 
 conveyed in the Historic Form 
 Stennett's Sermons on the Divine Authority and 
 
 the various Use of the Holy Scriptures 
 Tatham's Scale of Truth 
 Taylor (Daniel) on Inspiration 
 Townson's Discourses on the Four Gospels 
 Watson on Time 
 
 Willan's History of the Ministry of Jesus Christ 
 Williamson's Argument for the Christian Religion 
 Wintle's Translation of Daniel. 
 
 CATALOGUE 
 
 OF THE AUTHORS MENTIONED IN THIS WORK. 
 
 T/ie editions where the first are not intendcdy are specified^ for the most part, in the course of the 
 Hefcrences. Some omissions are supplied in the Catalogue. 
 
 AnADIE sur la Vcrite dc la Religion Clirctien 
 
 Abauzit's MisielLmir-i 
 
 Aheriiethy on the Attributes of God 
 
 Aberiiethy's Tracts 
 
 Abstract of HutchinRon's Works 
 
 Account of Holland 
 
 Acherly's British Constitution 
 
 Arts ot the Synnd of Dordl 
 
 Adams on the Nat. and Oblig. of Virtue 
 
 Adams on Miriicli s 
 
 Adams's Rnnian Antiquities 
 
 Adams's Def. f»f the Cniistit, of America 
 
 AdamKon on M'tral Virtue 
 
 Addin^toii's Cliristian Minister's Reasons for 
 
 baptizinfc Infants 
 Ad(lirt::ton's Summary of ditto 
 Arldington's Disseit. on ttie Religious Know. 
 
 ledf^e of tl.e Jews and Patriardis 
 Addison's Fieeholder 
 Addison on Christianity 
 Addison's W orks 
 
 AddrcHs to the Oi)posers of the Repeal of the 
 
 Oirpor.'ition and Test Acts 
 Advetiturer 
 .^schmeM's Dialo^iues 
 Alexander's Paraphrase on 1 Cor. xv. 
 Alleyne's Degrees of Marria*^c stated 
 
 Alltx's Reflection on Scripture 
 
 Aniand on the Britisli Constitution 
 
 Amncr's Dissertatif)n on the Weekly Festival 
 
 of the Christian Church 
 Amner on the Iiistitut. of Chrifitianity 
 Aiiiory's Dialoffue on Devfttion 
 Ainory's Sermons on tlie Last Judj;nient 
 Aniory on Christ the Light of the World 
 Anj;elographia 
 Anruial Register 
 Answer to the Letter to Wallace 
 Anti-Thelyphthora 
 Ap()\toli( al Coiistitntions 
 Appeal to the Candour of tho'^e in Power 
 A|)lliorpe on the Prevalence of Chris. 
 Aptliorpe's OiscourRcs on I'ropliecy 
 Apnieius's Hermes TrismcjjUtus 
 Areta-iis dp Morbis acutis 
 Aristotle's Ethics 
 Arnobius adverMis Gentes 
 Anian's Epictetus 
 Ars Co;;itandi 
 
 Ashdowne's Unitarian, Arian, and Trinitarian 
 
 f)piiiion<» examined 
 Asiidowne againvt Infant Baptism 
 Ashdowne concerning the Devil, or Satan 
 Asiatic Researches 
 
 Attorbnry's Sermons 
 Atterhury's Poslhutuons SermoU-s 
 Atlerliury Cuneio ad Clerum 
 AuL^usliiii Confessiones 
 Au;in!*tiiM de Civitate Dei 
 Augustini Opera. I58G 
 
 Raeon's Natural History 
 
 Bacon's Henry the Seventh 
 
 B.i;;ot to Dr. "Beil on the Lord's Supper 
 
 Jtatiot's Sermons at Wurl)urton's L^-clure 
 
 B.iker's Helteclions on Lcarninij 
 
 Baker of Microscopes 
 
 Bal^uy's (.1.) Six Sermons 
 
 Balgny's Law of Truth 
 
 BalguyN Infpiiry into Moral Goodness 
 
 Bal^ny on Divine Rectitude 
 
 Balguy's Sermons, two vols. 
 
 Balguy's Tracts 
 
 Balguy's lietter to a Deit^t 
 
 Balguy's Second Lelter to a Deist 
 
 Balguy on Redemption 
 
 Bal;;uy'8 (T.) Divine Benevolence asserted 
 
 Bauingarten's Supplement to Lhiiv. Hist. 
 
 Barlianld's Address to Mr. Wilberforcc 
 
 flarbauld on Mr. Wakefield's Inquiry 
 
 Barbeyrac's Noles on PufTendorf 
 
638 
 
 CATALOGUE OF AUTHORS 
 
 lUrcby's Apology 
 Jiarkt-r's (.1 ) Smnoiis 
 Iijrktr*s Mcviiali 
 ]!nrker on Demoniacs 
 IVirnard's Diviiiily of Christ 
 litrratitri Opera 
 
 Harrington on Diviife Dispensations 
 Uarrin^ton's .Miscellanea Sacm 
 Knri inKton*s Works 
 
 liarrinj- Ion's (Bp.) Cbiirge to the Clergy 
 Harrow's Works 
 
 Barrow on the Pope's Snprenjary 
 
 Rite's (Julius) Iteply lo Dr. Sharp on Aleim 
 
 and lierith. In Iwd parts 
 Bate's Harmony of Itie Diwne Attributes 
 Baxter's Practical AVorks 
 Baxter's Ueasunableness of Christianity 
 Baxter s End of Controversies 
 Baxter on Perseverance 
 Baxter's Cure of Chtirclt Divisions 
 Baxter's Infant Church-Membership 
 Baxter's Saints* Rest 
 Baxter (Andrew) on the Soul 
 Baxter's Matho 
 Baycs on Divine Benevolence 
 Bayle's Hist, and Critical Dictionary 
 Bayle's Philosophical Commentary 
 Bt'iitlie's Disserlations 
 Beallie's Immutability of Trntli 
 Beatlit;'s Elements ol" .Moral Science 
 Beecaria on Crimes and Punishments 
 Becker's W(»rld bewitched 
 Bfde Historia Ecclesiastica 
 Bell's Treatise on tlie Lord's Supper 
 UelPs Inquiry concerning John vi. 
 BelliTS's Delineation of Universal Law 
 Belsham's Essays 
 Bengelius's New Testament 
 Bennel'*s Ahridiiment of London Cases 
 JBennet's New Theory of the Trinity 
 Bentiet's (Benj.) Christian Oratory 
 Btunet on Srrijjture 
 Bennet on Inspiration 
 Bennet ajainst Popery 
 Benson's Sermons 
 
 Benw>n's Heasonab. of the Chris. Reli^. 
 Benson on Prayer 
 Benson on the Epistles 
 Benson on Clirist's Resurrection 
 Benson's History of the Life of Christ 
 Benson on Propagation of Christianity 
 Bentham on Lsury 
 Bentley at Beyle's Lecture 
 Bentley's Rem. on Collinss Free-tluDkcr 
 Berin;;ton's Letters on IVIaterialism 
 Beringlon's ImmatenuUsm delineated 
 Berkley's Siris 
 
 Berkley's Princip. of Hum. Knowledge 
 
 Berkley's Minute Pitilosopher 
 
 Berriman at lioyle's Lecture 
 
 Berrow's pre-existent Lapse of Souls 
 
 Berry-street Sermons 
 
 Besse's Defence of Quakerism 
 
 Bever on the Study of Jurisprudence 
 
 Bever's History of the Roman Laws 
 
 Bera on ihe New Testament 
 
 Bilsrjti's Survey of Christ's Sufferin;:;s 
 
 Bin;;ham"s Vindication of the Doctrine and 
 
 Litur;;y of the Church of Enjlarid 
 Bin;;liam's AntH|. of the Chris. Church 
 Biographia Brit.uinica 
 Birch's Life of Boyle 
 Biscfte at Boyle's Lecture 
 Blackhurne's Historical View 
 Blackball at Boyle s Lecture 
 BlackhnlPs Sermons 
 BlackhaM's An--wer to Hoadly 
 Blackmore on the Creation 
 lilac kstone's Commentaries 
 Black wall's Sacred Cl is^ics defended 
 Blarkwall Schema Sacnim 
 Blackwell's Inq. iiit<t Hother's Life 
 Blair on Christ's Sermon on the Mount 
 Le Blanc's Theses 
 
 BlayiK V on the 70 Weeks of Daniel 
 BhMideil de Jure Plehis 
 Blount Anima Mnndi 
 Blount's Oracles of Reason 
 Borharf 9 Phaleg 
 iiochart's Hierozoikon 
 Boetins di' Consolatione 
 Bolingbroke'.«< Letters on History 
 Bonar's Observati<iiis on Jnda>^ fscariot 
 Bonet's Contemplation of Nature 
 Booth''' Pa:dobaptism examined 
 lioss Exercititions 
 Bott a^aiiist Warburton 
 B'istock on the Covenant 
 Bourn's Sermons 
 
 Bourn's Inciter to Chandler 
 
 Bower's Lives of the Popes 
 
 Bowyer's CoTijectures of the New Test. 
 
 Boyle on VmiTation of the Deity 
 
 Boyle on till- Style -.f Scripture 
 
 Bnj'l,''s The<.l..-"ic;d Works 
 
 Boyle's Occasional Meditations 
 
 Itoyse's Works 
 
 Boyse's Answer to Emlyn 
 
 lloyse on Episco])acy 
 
 Branch ou Dreamina' 
 
 Ihantlfs Histnry of the Reformation 
 
 Brerewood's Diversity of Languages 
 
 Brekell on Circumcision 
 
 Brekell s Sermons 
 
 Brekell on Forms of Prayer 
 
 Brekell on Regeneration 
 
 Br».'kell*s Pirdohaptism 
 
 Ihi kcll's Pivdohaptism defended 
 
 Brett a'j:aiiist Hondly on the Sacrament 
 
 Brevinfs Saul and Samuel at Endor 
 
 Brine's Ellicacy of Cliri.si s Death 
 
 BristoWs Cnrs.ry Reflections on tiie Test and 
 Corporation Acts 
 
 Brooke on Middlcton's Free Inquiry 
 
 Brooke's Discourses 
 
 Broii-hton on Christ's Descent to Hell 
 
 Brou;;htori's Prospect of Futurity 
 
 BroiiLihtoii's Defence of the commonly-re- 
 ceived Doctrine of the Human Soul 
 
 Browne (Bp.) on the Understanding 
 
 Browne's Divine Anahnry 
 
 Browne's fT.) Vulgar Errors 
 
 Browne Religio Medici 
 
 Brown (J ) on the Characteristics 
 
 Brown's Three Sermons 
 
 Brown s Restitution of all Things 
 
 Briice s Elem. of the Science of Ethics 
 
 Bruckner's Thoughts on Public W^orship 
 
 Brueii's Life 
 
 Le Bi un on the Charac. of the Passions 
 Bryant's Address to Dr. Priestley 
 Bryant's Mythology 
 Bryant's Authenticity of Scriptures 
 Bryant Vindiciw Flavian* 
 Biidda^i Historia Pliilosophite 
 Bullier's First Truths 
 Putfon's Natural Histnry 
 Bulkley's Economy of the Gospel 
 Bulkle>'s Christian Minister 
 Bulkley on Catholic Communion 
 Bullock's Vindication of Prophecy 
 B'lll's Works 
 Bill I's Sermon.^ 
 
 Buhners History of the Establishment of 
 
 Christiaiiit V 
 Buiiyan's PilVrrim's Progress 
 Burges un Wakefield's Ini]uiry 
 Bur;iirs Layman's Seri|>t. Confutation 
 Buri'h's lu'iuiry into the Belief of the Cliris- 
 
 tianv of the three first Cetituries 
 Biiriih's (James) Crito 
 Burke's Retlec. on the French Revohit. 
 Bnrlamafpii Elemerita 
 Burnet (Bishop) on the Articles 
 Purtief'i History of his own Times 
 Burnet's E'*say on Queen INIary 
 Burnet's Life of the Earl of Rochester 
 Burnet's Four Discourses 
 Rtirnefs Life of Sir Matthew Hale 
 Burnet's Letters 
 Burnet's Life of Bishop Bedell 
 Burnet's (Dr. Thomas, of the Charter. House) 
 
 Tlieory of the Earth 
 Burnet's Archac')loi:ia 
 Burnet Dc Fidtret Ofliciis Christianor. 
 Burnet De Statu Mortuornm 
 Burnet'.s (T.) Scrm. at Br>yle's Lecture 
 Burnet's Script. Doctrine of the Trinity 
 Burnet on Redemption 
 Bnrrf>uuh on Positive Institutions 
 BurroU;;h's View of Popery 
 Fhirtlio<;ge on the Soul of the World 
 Butler's Sermons 
 Butler's AiKilf)Lry 
 
 Butlcrw<irth's Thoughts on Moral Govern- 
 
 ment and A;;ency 
 Buxtorf's Lexicon 
 
 Cado'.;an's Essay on Nursing 
 
 Calamy's Life of Baxter 
 
 Calamy's Defence of Nonconformity 
 
 Calamy on the Trinity 
 
 Calamy's Life of Howe 
 
 Calasio's Concordfince 
 
 Calmet's Dictionary 
 
 Calvini Opera 
 
 Catvini Itiitt itutiones 
 
 Cambray ( Archbp. of)sur l Exist. de Dieu. 1721 
 
 Cambray s Translation by Boycc 
 
 Cambray on Government 
 
 Cambray's Philosophical Works 
 
 Cambray's Telemachus 
 
 Cambray's Education des Filles 
 
 Campbell s Necessity of Revelation 
 
 Campbell on Miracles 
 
 Campbells Preliminary Dissertations 
 
 Capellus de Statu Anim. post Morlem 
 
 Cardale cor)cerning Jesus Christ 
 
 Cardale s Comment on Christ's Prayer 
 
 ('ardale on the Epithets to Jesus Christ 
 
 Cardale's Lui. wheth.-r Worship should be 
 
 paid to the S^m or Holy Spirit 
 Carmicha-i in PutT. de Oihcir) Ilominis 
 Carpzovius's Defence of the Hebrew Bihle 
 Cassandri Consnllationes 
 Casmanni Angelo'.;rap!iia 
 ('atholir Christian instructed 
 (Alto's Letters 
 Chaml)crs's Cyclopedia 
 Chandler's Rfformation Sermon 
 Cha!idler's History of Persecution 
 Chandler (»n Miracles 
 Chandler ayainsi Morgan 
 Clianiller's Vindication of Daniel 
 Ch.ndleron Joel 
 
 Chandler's Witnesses re-examined 
 Chandler's Lifeol David 
 Chandler's Posthumous Sermons 
 Cliandleron Subscription 
 Chaniller's Discourses on the Sabbatli 
 Ciiandler (Bp.) o!i Christianity 
 Chapman's Eusebins 
 Chapman a-jainst Morgan 
 Chapman on Phlegon's Testimony 
 Chapman's Jesuit Cabal further opened 
 Cliapman's Exped. of Mirac. Powers 
 Chapman on tlie Manner of baptizing 
 Chappelow's Commentary on Job 
 Cliauncy's Mystery hid from Ages 
 Cheselden's Anatomy 
 Clielsun on Gibbon's two Chapters 
 Cheyne's Philosophical Principles 
 Cheyne's E-^s-'iy on Regimen 
 Cliilingworth's safe Way In Salvation 
 Christ's Temptations real Facts 
 Christianity not founded in Argument 
 Cliristie's Discourses on the Unity 
 Cliubb's Previous Question 
 Chuhb's True Gospel 
 Church's Powers of the Fathers 
 Churcli's Second Vindication 
 Church of England Mau's Ans\vers against the 
 Test 
 
 Cicero de Natura Deorum 
 Cicero's Tusculan Disputatious 
 Cicero de Fato 
 Cicero de Oflic iis 
 Cicero Somnium 
 Cicero Epistolae ad Atticum 
 Cicero de Divinatione 
 Clare on Fluids 
 Clariiiss Ctunntentary 
 Clark on the Promises 
 Clarke's PoM humous Sermons 
 Clarke at Boyle's Lecture 
 Clarke on the Trinity 
 Clarke's Three Essays 
 Clarke and~Leihnilz 
 Clarke against Dodwell 
 Clarke (J.) on the Oriirin of Kvil 
 Clarke's Ih-fcnce of the Unity of God 
 Clarke's Vindic. of the Honour of God 
 Clarkson's Iniquity of the Slave Trade 
 Clarkson on its Impolicy 
 Clarkson on Liturgies 
 Clarkson on Episcopacy 
 Clayton's Essay on Spirit 
 Clayton's Vindic. of tlie Old Testament 
 Clayton's Chron. of the Bible vindicated 
 Clayton's Defence of the E«say on Spirit 
 Clayton's Answer to Why does not the Bp of 
 
 Clo|;her rcsi;;n his Preferments! 
 Cleaver on the Lord's Supper 
 Clemens Alexandrinus 
 Clerfjyman's Letter to Dr. Clarke 
 Le Clerc's Life of Gregory Nazianzen 
 Le Clerc Physica 
 Le Clerc Historia Ecclesiastica 
 Le Clerc Pneumatologia 
 Le Clerc Lri^ica 
 Le Clerc Dissertationes 
 C'lbler to Thelyphthora's Author 
 Cdci Censura Patrum 
 Cockhurn's (Mrs.) Works 
 C<illiber's Free Thoughts on Souls 
 Colliber on tlie Nature and Existence of Gnd 
 Colliber's Knowledge of God 
 
REFERRED TO IN THE LECTURES. 
 
 539 
 
 CoIIiber on Natural and Rev, Religiou 
 Collier*s Essays 
 
 Collier's Hist, and Geo;^. Dictionary 
 
 Collier's Immaterial \\'orId 
 
 Collier's Sacred Interpreter 
 
 Collins on Liberty 
 
 Collins on Free. thinkings 
 
 Collins's Literal Scheme 
 
 Collius's Ground^ and Reasons 
 
 Collins*s Vind. of the Divine Attributes 
 
 Comber's Answer to AVeston's Inquiry 
 
 Commentaries by the Society for promoting 
 
 the Kno\vled:;e of Scriptures 
 Condorcet s Life of Tur;>ot 
 Cotidillac on Human Knowledge 
 Confessional 
 Confucii Scientia Sinica 
 Confutation of Moore's Propositions 
 C^onsiderations on the Law of l-'orfeiture 
 Conybeare's Expediency of a Revelation 
 Conybtare against Tindal 
 Conybeare on Miracles 
 Conybeare's Sermon on Subscription 
 Conybeare's Six Sermons 
 Cooper's Philosophical Essays 
 Cornish on the Pre existcnce of Ciirist 
 Cornish on Baptism 
 Cosin's History of the Canon 
 Cooper's Life of Socrates 
 Cradock's Harmony 
 Craig's Essay on the Life of Christ 
 Crellius de Deo. In his Works 
 Creliius Ethica 
 
 Crevier's History of the Emperors 
 
 Critical Inquiry into the Principles of the 
 
 Philosoj)hers on a Future State 
 Critical Notes on some Pass, of Scripture 
 Croft's Sermons at Bampton's Lerlure 
 Crombe's Vindication of Philosophical Neces- 
 sity 
 
 Crowzaz's Logic 
 Cudworth's Intellectual System 
 Cudworth on the Lord's Sup))er 
 Cumberland on the Origin of Nations 
 Cumberland's Law of Nature 
 Cumberland'^ Sanclioniatho 
 Cumberland's Sanchonialho 
 Cumbei land's Origiiies (Jentium 
 Cursory Remarks <hi Wakefield's Inquiry 
 Cursory Rem. on Middleton's Controv. 
 Cursory Reficclions on the Repeal 
 Customs of the E. Iiid. and Jews comp. 
 Cyprian) Oiwra 
 Cyrus's Travels 
 
 Dacier on Horace 
 
 Daille's Right Use of the Fathers 
 
 Dalrymple's Inquiry into Gibbon's Causes of 
 
 Christianity 
 Danger of repealing tlic Test Act 
 Davis's ICxani. of Gibbon's 2 Chapters 
 Davis's Reply to Gibbon's Vindication 
 Daubuz on the Revelations 
 Dawes's Free Inquiry 
 Dawes's (Ahp.j Sermons on HpII 
 Dawson {Beiij.) against Subscription 
 Dawson's Necessitarian 
 Dawson's Sermons on the Logos 
 Da\vson"s Remaiks Mr. Stefit; 
 Day's Dying Nei;ro 
 Defence of the Doctrine of Atonement 
 Defence of Mr. Locke's Opinion on Personal 
 
 Identity 
 
 Di fence of the Sonsliip of Jesns Christ 
 
 De Foe's Jus Divinum, 171)6 
 
 Delany on Relative Dntit-s 
 
 Dflany's RcHf ctions on Polygamy 
 
 Delany's Revelation exam, with Candour 
 
 Delany's Life of David 
 
 Dehnfe on Spirits 
 
 Denne's S' rmons on Vegetation 
 
 Derham's Physico-Theology 
 
 Derham's Astro.Theoloj^y 
 
 Des Cartes' Principia 
 jDes Cartes de Passinnibus 
 
 Des Cartes de M.'tli<>do 
 
 Des Carres' Dioptrics 
 
 Dickson's Letters on Slavery 
 iDiodorus Siculns 
 
 Disney's two Sermons or> Public Worship 
 Drsney's Letters to Dr. Knox 
 Disquisitions relating to thi^ Dissenters 
 Dissertation on the Ayujel of the Lord, and 
 
 the Antjt'l of Jesus dhrial 
 Ditton on the Resurrection 
 Divi.'ie Worship due to the whole Trinity 
 Dixon's Sovereignty of the divine Adminis- 
 tration 
 
 Doctrine of Pliilos. Ncccs. invalidated 
 
 Doctrine of the Trinity inconsistent with 
 
 Reason and Scripture 
 Doddridge's Life of Colonel Gardiner 
 , Doddridge's Ten Sermons 
 Doddridge on Education 
 Doddridge's Sermon on Persecution 
 Doddridge's Letters to the Auttior of Chris. 
 
 tianity not founded in Argument 
 Doddridge's Family Expositor 
 Doddridge on Regeneration 
 Doddridge on Christian Candour, &c. 
 Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion in 
 
 the Soul 
 Dodsley's Preceptor 
 Dodwdl Dissertlitiones in Irenaeura 
 Dodwell's Scripture Account of Rewards 
 Dodwell's (Wm.) Free Answer to Middleton's 
 
 Free Inquiry 
 Dodwell's full and final Reply to Mr. Toll 
 Mac Dounell's Answer to Hopkins 
 Mac Donnell's short Vmdication 
 Dore's Letters on Faith 
 Dove's Creed 
 Douglas's Criterion 
 Drake's Anatomy 
 Drake's Jiar to the Lord's Supper 
 Driehorg on Baptism and the Lord's Supper 
 Drieberg on the New Covenant 
 Drieberg on the Future State of Man 
 Duchal's Evidences of Christianity 
 Diichal's Sermons 
 Duncan's Logic 
 
 Dnnlopc's Pref. to Scottish Confessions 
 Dupin on the Canon 
 
 Durell's Critical Rem. on Job, Psalms, Eccle 
 
 siastes, and Canticles 
 Dyer on Subscription 
 
 Edwards's (J.) Exercitations 
 
 EduTirds nil Scripture 
 
 Edwards's (T.) Doct. of Irresist. Gncc 
 
 E<lwards's ((Jeorge) Works 
 
 Edwards's (J.) Inq. into the Free Will 
 
 Edwards on tlie Nature of trtie Virtue 
 
 Edwards on Original Sin 
 
 Edwards's History of Redemption 
 
 Edwards's Address and Vindication 
 
 Ellys's Temporal Liberty of the Subject 
 
 Elsneri Observationes. 1720. 
 
 Elucidation of tlie Unity of God 
 
 Enilyn's Life 
 
 F-mlyn's Tracts 
 
 Emlyn's Sermons 
 
 Enfield's History of Philosophy 
 
 England's Morals of the Ancients 
 
 Englefield to the Author of a Review of the 
 
 Case of the Protestant Dissenters 
 Enty against Halkt 
 Epictctus 
 
 Erskine on frequent Communion 
 
 Essay on Hunting 
 
 Essay on IVrsrmal Identity 
 
 Essay on Inspiration 
 
 Essay on the Gift of Tongues 
 
 Ess:iy on a New Translation of the Bible 
 
 Essay as an Answer to Essay on Spirit 
 
 Essay on the Nature, Stc. of Sacrifices 
 
 Essay on Christ's Priesthood 
 
 Essay on the Origin, Character, and Views of 
 the Protestint Dissenters 
 
 Evans's Christian Temper 
 
 Evans's Scripture Standard 
 
 Evanson's Letter to tlie Bishop of Liclifield 
 and Coventry 
 
 Evanson's Dissonance of the Four generally 
 received Evangelists 
 
 Evanson's Arguments for and against the Sab- 
 batical Olwervance of Sunday 
 
 Evremond's Works 
 
 Eusebii Pracparatio Evangelica 
 
 Eusehii Hist. Ecdesiast. IG88 
 
 Eusebii Demonstratio Evangelica, ibid. 
 
 Eusebii Vita Constantini 
 
 Examination of Reasons for the Repeal 
 
 Examination of the Principles in the Bishop 
 of London's (Sherlock) Sermons 
 
 Eyre's Ohservatirnson the Prophecies relating 
 to tlie Restoration of the Jews 
 
 Fable of the Bees 
 
 Fahririi Cod. x, 1713 
 
 Fabricii Hil.hoHu-ca Grara 
 
 Fac ts submitred to tlic Friends of Civil and 
 
 Religions Liberty 
 Farmer's Dissertation on Miracles 
 Farmer on Christ's Tciiiplat ion 
 Farmer's Appendix to the same , 
 Farmer's Essay on the Demoniacs 
 Farmer's Letters to Dr. Worthington | 
 
 Fawcett's (Beni.) Candid Reflections on the 
 
 Doctrine of the Trinity 
 Fawcett's Dialogues on the other World 
 Fell's Demoniacs 
 
 Felton's Resurrection of the same Numerical 
 Body 
 
 Ferguson's Hist, of tlie Rom. Republic 
 Ferguson's Prin. of mor. and pol. Science 
 Fiddeson Moral Virtue 
 Fielding's Tom Jones 
 Filmer's Patriarchal Scheme 
 Firebrace against Subscription 
 Fitzosborne's Letters 
 Five Letters on Inspiration 
 Flavel's Works 
 Flavel's Fountain of Life 
 Fleetwood's Relative Duties 
 Fleetwood on IMiracles 
 Fleetwood's Works 
 Fleming's Cliristology 
 Fleming on the First Resurrection 
 Fleming apud Cliristology 
 Fleming- on fultilling the Scripture 
 Fleming on tlie Fall of Antichrist 
 Fleming's (Dr.) Survey of the Search after 
 Souls 
 
 Fleming: on tlie Fourth Commandment 
 Fleming's Account of the Lord's Day 
 Fleming's Plea for Infants. Appendix to 
 
 Ditto, and Defence 
 Fleming's Three Monuments 
 Fleming on Christ's Temptation 
 Fletcher's Socinianism unscriptural 
 Fletcher's Checks to Antinomiauism 
 Fleury's Catechism 
 FontfneIle*s History of Oracles 
 Fool of Quality 
 Foot's Letters on Baptism 
 Forbe.s's Thoughts on Religion 
 Furhes's Letter to a Bishojp 
 Foidyce's Moral Philosopliy 
 Fordy Jt's Dialogues on Education 
 Fordyce (J.) on the Love of Pleasure 
 Fr>rdyce at Lindsay's Ordination 
 Forster's Dissertation on Josephus's Account 
 
 of Jesus Christ 
 Fortuita Sacra 
 Foster's Sermons 
 
 Foster's Discourses on Natural Religion and 
 
 Social Virtue 
 Foster ai:ainst Tindal 
 Foster's Letters to Stebbing 
 Fowlt-r's Descent of Christ 
 Fownes on the Principles of Toleration 
 Fra-^r's Life of Nadir Schah 
 Frec-Tliinker 
 
 Frend to the IMemb. rtf the Church of England 
 Fry'.s Case of Marriages between Kindred 
 F'urneaux's Es^ay on Toleration 
 Furneaux's Letters to Justice Blackstone 
 
 Gage's Survey of the West Indies 
 Gale's Court of the (.'entiles 
 Gales'.s (Dr. John) Sermons 
 Gale against Wall 
 
 Garthhnl of Christ's Resurrection. 1657 
 Gastoir.H Scripture Account of the Faith and 
 
 Practice of Christians 
 Gastrell on Natural Religion 
 Gavtiell's Christian Institutes 
 (Jastrell's Certainty of the Chris, Revelation 
 Ge(ld< s\ Tracts 
 
 Gcddcs's History of the Expulsion of the 
 
 Mor iscoes. Apud Tracts 
 fJeddcs's Account of the Inquisilion 
 Geddes on the Divinity of Christ 
 G.-Ili's Circe, by Laying 
 
 Gi*bbon'8 Decline and Fall of the Roman Em- 
 pi re 
 
 Gibbon's Vindic. of his two Cha))ters 
 Gifford's Ans. to Piiestley's Disquisit. 
 Gifl'ord's Dissertation on the Song of Solomon, 
 
 with a poetical \'ersion 
 fJillies's History of Greece 
 (mH's Dissert r)ii the Hebrew Langilage 
 Gill on the Prophets 
 (iill's Answer to Towgood 
 (Jill's Antipa-do-baptism, or Infant Baptism 
 
 an Innovation 
 Gilpin on Temptations 
 Gisburne's Moral Philos. investigated 
 Glanville's Essays 
 
 Glanville Sadducismus Triimiphatus 
 Glanvillc* Lux Oricntalis 
 (Jl.issii Opera 
 
 Glassii Pliilologia* Saciip. lo>3 
 Guiidard on the Intermediate State 
 Gitd will's Inquiry on Political Justice 
 Goodman's Prodijal 
 
 I 
 
540 
 
 CATALOGUE OF AUTHORS 
 
 Goodwin's (T.) Restoration of Man 
 Goodwin's Child of Kiglit 
 Goodwin's \\'i)rks 
 
 GoodwMr.<t (J.) I*as^n Debt and Dowry 
 
 Gordon's Tarilus 
 
 Grabe auiiin"*! M'liiston 
 
 Grnnad.i's Memorial 
 
 GratimT on Ihv Abuse of Animals 
 
 Gravfsend's Physica 
 
 Gregory's E'-says, Philos. and Literary 
 
 Green's Lftler lo Collins 
 
 Grey's Menioria Teehnica 
 
 (Jrt-y's I.iist Words of David 
 
 Grey's Letter to Warburton 
 
 Grey on Job 
 
 Grotius de Veritate Cliris. Rclig. 1709 
 Grotiiis de Jure Belli et Pacis 
 Grove's Poslhnmons Works 
 Grove's Moral PhiIosoj)liy 
 Grove's Wisdom the hrst Spring of Action in 
 the Deity 
 
 Grove's Thoufihts on a Future State, against 
 
 Hallet. Apnd Opera 
 Grove on Saving Faith. Apud Opera 
 Grove's Sermons 
 Grove on Human Liberty 
 Grove's Miscellanies "< 
 Grove on Recreations 
 Grove on Secret Prayer 
 Giialperius 
 Guardian 
 
 Gnrdon at Boyle's Lecture 
 Guysc on the Wew Testament 
 
 Hale's (Sir Matthew) Origination of Mankind 
 
 Ilalc's Tracts 
 
 Hale's Contemplations 
 
 Hale's (Jolin) (Jolden Remains 
 
 Halifax's Character of a Trimmer 
 
 Hall's {Bp ) Works. 1714 
 
 Hallefs Notes nri Scripture 
 
 Hallet's Answer to Cliubb 
 
 Hallct on tlie Hebrews 
 
 Hallet's Immortality of the Moral Philosopher 
 Hallifax'i. Sermons at AVarburton's Lecture 
 Hammond on the New Testament 
 Hampton's Remarks on Taylor's Discourse on 
 
 the Atonement 
 Hanway's Travels 
 
 Harmer's Outlines of a New Commentary on 
 
 Solomon's Sonq;' 
 Harmer's Observations ou divers Passages of 
 
 Scripture 
 Harris on the Messiah 
 Harris's Critical Remarks 
 Harris's (James) Hermes 
 Harris's Dialogue on HtTppiness 
 Harris's (Georffe) Justinian 
 Hartley on Man 
 
 H.irwood's New Introduction to the Study and 
 
 Kiio\vled,sj:e of the New Testament 
 Harwood's Five Dis-^ertatioijs 
 Haweis's Refutation of Polygamy 
 Hawker's Sermons on the Divinity of Christ 
 Hawkins's Address to Dr. Priestley 
 IlayiKs's Scripture Account of the Attributes 
 
 and Woi«.hip of (iod, and of the Character 
 
 and Offices of Jesus Christ 
 Heath's Kss;iY towards a New English Version 
 
 of the Book of Job 
 Hebden's Dissertation on tlie Lord's Prayer 
 Hebden f<n Rej^eneratiou 
 
 Henly's Dissertation on the Angels that kejyt 
 
 not their first Estate 
 Henry's History of Enprland 
 Henry on Christ's Favour to little Children 
 Herodoti Historia 
 
 Herport's Essay on Truths of Importance to 
 
 the Happiness of Mankind 
 Hervey's Meditations 
 Hey on Duelling 
 Heyiin's History of the Sabbath 
 Hieroclcs in Pythai;oriEe Carmiua 
 Hi;;h Church Politics 
 Highmore's Essays 
 
 Hildrop's Thou;ihts on the Brute Creation 
 Hill's Bles'*in;;s of Polygamy displ.iye<l 
 Hill's (Sir Richard) Review of Mr. Wesley's 
 
 Doctrines 
 Hill Lngica Wesleien'iis 
 Hill's Siriclures on Mr. Fletcher 
 Hippevley's Essay on the Population of Africa 
 Historical Memoirs of Religious Dissension 
 History of Nonconformity 
 History of (Jnitarianism 
 Hoadly on Guvcrnmeiit 
 Hoadly's Iteasonableness of Conformity 
 Hoadly's Tracts 
 Hoadly's Letter to Atlerbury 
 
 Hoadly's Reply to Ulackhall 
 Hoadly cn Episcopacy 
 Hoadly's Account of the Sacrament 
 Hoadly's Confutation of Sherlock 
 Hoblies's Leviathan 
 Hobbes De Give 
 
 Hobhouse's Reply to Mr. Randolph 
 H<»dges's Klihu 
 
 Hod;;es's Strictures upon Sharp's Cherubim 
 Hodge's Sermons 
 
 Hodson's Jesus Christ the true God 
 Hodson's Ans. to Mr, Frend's Address 
 Hi>ldci's Doctrine of the Divine Trinity in 
 
 Unity 
 Hnlland's Sermons 
 H))Mand on the Revelations 
 HuIIoway's Remarks on the Words £lohim 
 
 and Heritk 
 Hooke's Roman History 
 Ho(»ker's i'cclesiastical Polity 
 Hopkin's (Bishop) Works 
 Hopkins's Appeal to the common Sense of all 
 
 Christian People 
 Hopkins's Sequel to the Essay on Spirit 
 Hopkins's Friendly Dialogue 
 Horace 
 
 Horberry on Future Punishments 
 Home's Sermon on contendiuL' for the Faith 
 Home's Letter to an Under-Graduate of Ox- 
 ford 
 
 Home's Sermon on Christ's being the Object 
 
 of Relij;ious Adoration 
 Horsley's Tracts, in Controversy with Dr. 
 
 Priestley 
 Hotoman's Franco-Gallia 
 Howe's Livin-; Temple 
 Howe's Works 
 Howe on Prescience 
 Hdwe's Blessedness of the Righteous 
 Howe's Redeemer's Tears 
 Howe's Observations on Books, ancient and 
 
 modern 
 
 Huetii Demonstratio Evangelica 
 
 Hughs's Second Defence 
 
 Hume's Philosophical Essays 
 
 Hume on the l*riuciples of Morals 
 
 Hume on Miracles. Apud Essays 
 
 Hnmphries's Admission to the Lord's Supper 
 
 Hunt on the Divine Dispensations 
 
 Hiird'.s Dialojsues 
 
 Hurd's Sermons on the Prophecies 
 
 Hutcheson's Inquiry into the Ideas of Beauty 
 
 and Virtue 
 Hutcbeson's Meta|>hys: Synopsis 
 Hutcheson on the Passions 
 Hutcheson's System of Moral Philosophy 
 Hull hrson's Compendium 
 Hutchinson's Sermons 
 Hntrhinson on Witchcraft. 1718 
 Hyde de Religione veterum Persarum 
 
 .Tackson's (Dr. TJiomas) Works 
 J.icksoii on the Lord's Prayer 
 Jarksou's Truth of Scripture 
 Jackson f J.) on Matter and Spirit 
 Jacks'in on Liberty 
 .Jackson's Reply 
 Jarkson on Existence and Unity 
 Jackson's Chronolo;;ical Antiiiuities 
 Jackson's Remarks on Dr. Middleton's Free 
 Iii(|uiry 
 
 Jameson's Foundation of Virtue 
 .lardine's Three Disctiurses 
 H)bofs Sermons 
 
 Jeacocke's Vindication of the Apostle Paul 
 JefTries's true Grounds of the Christian Reli- 
 gion 
 
 JeflVies's Christianity the Perfection of all 
 Religion 
 
 JelVries's Review of the Controversy between 
 
 Himself and his Adversaries 
 Jenkins's Reasonableness of Christianity 
 Jenkins's Inconsistency of Infant Spruikling 
 
 with Christian Baptism 
 Jeniiin;;'s (J ) Logic 
 JiMiiiiiit;'s Pneumatology 
 Jenning's Discourse on preaching Christ 
 Jennings's (David) Jewish Antiquities 
 Jenninjis's Astronomy 
 
 Jennings's Answer to Taylor on Original Sin 
 Jennings's Abridgment of Cotton Mather's 
 Life 
 
 Jenyns's fSoame) Disquisitions 
 .lenyns's Letters on tlie Orif;in of Evil 
 Jenyns's View of the Internal Evidence of the 
 
 Christian RellK-ion 
 Independent Whig 
 
 Infancy of the AV'orld an improper Season for 
 Christ's Appearance 
 
 Innes on Mural Virtue 
 
 In(|^uiry into the Philosophical Doctrine uf a 
 
 1* uture State 
 Introduction to the Ancient Universal History 
 Johnshm's Couiinentary on the Revelations 
 Jones on the Heart 
 
 Jones on the Canon * 
 
 Jones's Critical Lectures, MS. 
 
 Jones against Wliiston 
 
 Jones's Jewish Antiijuities, MS. 
 
 Jones's ( W.) full Answer to the Essay on Spirit 
 
 Josephi Belhim Judaicum 
 
 Josephi Anli(|uitates 
 
 Josephiis against Appion 
 
 Jcn tm's Dissertations 
 
 Jortin's Remarks on Ecclesiastical Hist. 
 
 Joi tin's Six Discourses 
 
 Irena'i Opera. 1625 
 
 Itti;;ii Prolegomena ad Josepbum 
 
 Judgment of Km;;doms and Nations on the 
 
 Kl^^htsof Kmgsand the People 
 Jiirien's Pastoral Letters 
 Justini Historia 
 Justini Martyris Opera. 1686 
 Juvenal 
 
 Kaims's (Lord) Elements of Criticism 
 Kauus's Essay on tlie Principles of Morality 
 
 and Natural Reli;,'ion 
 Kaims's Sketches of the History of Man 
 Keil's Anatomy 
 Keil's Essay on Blood 
 Keil's Astronomical Lectures 
 Keil's Examination of Burnet's and Whiston s 
 
 Theories 
 Kennet's Roman Antiquities 
 Kennicott on tlie Hebrew Text, vols, i.and ii. 
 Kennicott's Account of his Collation 
 Kennicott's Sermon on Isaiah vii. 14. 
 Kennicott's Remarks on select Passages of the 
 
 Old Testament 
 Kennicott's Dissertat. on the Tree of Life 
 Kenrick's Poems 
 Kett's Bampton Lectures 
 
 Kiddell's thiee Dissertations on the Inspira- 
 tion of the Holy Scriptures 
 Kidder on the Pentateuch 
 Kidder on tlie Messiah 
 Killing no Murder 
 
 King's Origin of Evil, with Law"s Notes 
 King on Piedestinatioii 
 King's Sermons i 
 King (Edward) on the English Constitution 
 Kiii-'s (Lord) Constitution of the Primitive 
 
 Church 
 Kippis's Sermons 
 
 Kippis's Introductory Discourse at Wilton's 
 
 Ordination 
 Ki[>|>is's Chari^e at Howe's Ordination 
 Kippis's Concise Account of the Lord's Supper 
 Kirt>y's Demonstration of the Trinity 
 Knijiht on the Being and Attributes of God 
 Knowledge of Divine Things by Revelation 
 
 o„Iy 
 
 Knowles's Answer to the Essay on Spirit 
 Knowiess Primitive Christianity 
 Knox's Ceylon 
 
 Kronsinski's Revolution of Persia 14 
 Laclantiiis 
 
 La Molhe on Inspiration 
 
 Lardner's Counsels of Prudence 
 
 Lardner's Jewish and He.iihen Testimonies 
 
 Lardner's Credibility of tlie Gospel History 
 
 Lardner's Life, liy Dr. Kippis. A[>pen. 
 
 Lardner's Supplement 
 
 I>ardiieron Four Miracles 
 
 Lardner's Remarks on Mackuight's Harmony 
 
 Lardner's Remarks on Ward's Dissertation* 
 
 Lardner's Letter on the Lo</os 
 
 Lardner's Two Schemes of a Trinity consider 
 
 ed, and the Divine Unity asserted 
 Lardner's Sermons 
 Lardner's Case of the Demoniacs 
 Lardner's CircmnsUinces of the Jews 
 Lardner's Works 
 
 Lampe Synopsis Ecclesiasticae Hist. 
 Law's Theory of Religion 
 Law's Inquiry into tlie Ideas of Space, Time, 
 Sir. 
 
 Law s Notes on King's Ori;;in of Evil 
 Law's Discourse on Death, and Append. 
 Law (Wm.) on Christian Perfection 
 Lectures against Popery 
 Leechman on Ihi- Duly of a Minister 
 Leechman's Sermons 
 Leechmau's Sermons on Prayer 
 Lee's Dissertation on Esdras 
 L'Enfanfslntroduction to the New Testament 
 
REFERRED TO IN THE LECTURES. 
 
 641 
 
 Leibnitz's Tbeodicee. 1731 
 LeIanH ajjuinst Tiiidal 
 
 LeI.iiid on the Advantage and Necessity of 
 
 Kevclation 
 LeIaiidS View of Deistical Writers 
 Lelaiurs Rellfctions on Lord Bolingbrokes 
 
 Letters on Hi>tory 
 Leiand a{;ainst Morgan 
 Lc Lolme on the Constitution of England 
 Letters to Dr. Clarke 
 Letters between Clarke and Collins 
 Letter lo Wallace 
 Letter to Waterland 
 
 I-etlcr to the Minister of Moffat. Answer to 
 the same 
 
 Letter to the Bishop of Clogher on his Essay 
 
 on Spirit 
 Serond Letter to the same 
 Letters on Theron and Aspasia 
 Letters on Baptism, between Bp. Clayton and 
 
 Wni. Penn 
 
 Letter to the Bishop?, on the Application of 
 
 the Dissenters to Parliament 
 Letter to Edward Jeffries, Esq. 
 Letter to a Nobleman, on the Laws relative to 
 
 the Dissenters 
 Letter to the Archbishops and Bishops, by an 
 
 Under- Graduate 
 Letter to the Bishop of St. David's, by a Welch 
 
 Freeholder 
 
 Letter to the Deputies of the Dissenting Con- 
 
 grei;ati<)ns 
 Letters (2) to the Dele;;ates at Devizes 
 Letter to Earl Stanhope, on the Subject of the 
 
 Test 
 
 Letter to the Parliament of Great Britain on 
 
 the same Subject 
 Letters to the People of England against the 
 
 Repeal 
 Letter to a Lord 
 Leusden s Dissertations 
 Leuwenhoek's Epistles 
 Lewis's Jewish Antiquities 
 Li;:htfool's Works 
 Liuhtfoot Hor* Kebraicae 
 Life of Galeacins Carracciolus 
 Life of Prince Conti 
 Life of Moliere 
 Limborch'f* Theology 
 Limborch Collatio 
 Lime-street Lectures 
 Lindse>'s Apolou'y 
 Lindsey's Sequel to the Apology 
 Litidsey's Two Dissertations 
 Lindsey's Catechist 
 
 Lindsey's Vindicia; Priestleianae, in two Parts 
 Lindsey's Examinat. of Robinson's Plea 
 Lindsey's List of False Readings and Misre- 
 presentations of Scripture 
 Lindsey's Conversations on Christian Idolatry 
 Locke's Essay on Human Understanding 
 Locke on Education 
 Locke on Toleration 
 Locke on the Epistles 
 Locke's Piistfuunoiis Pieces 
 Locke's Reasonableness of Christianity 
 Locke's ('ondurt of the Understanding 
 Locke's familiar Letters 
 Locke on Government 
 Locke's Letters to Stillingfleet 
 Locke's Posthumous Works 
 LofTt'a Iteply to the Reasoning^s of Mr. Gibbon 
 Lofll's Observations on Dr. Knowles's Testi- 
 monies 
 
 Lofft s History of the Corporation and Test 
 
 Acts * 
 Lofft's Vindication of the same 
 London Magazine 
 Lon;;inu8 de Sublimitate 
 Look at Hie last Century 
 Lonhiere*s Siam 
 Lowman's Argument a priori 
 Lowman's Three Tracts 
 Lowman's Hebrrw Ritual 
 Lowman on the Revelations 
 Lowman on tlie Hehrew Government 
 Lowth on the Old Testament 
 Lowlh on Inspiration 
 Lowlh's (Bishop) Praelerfiones 
 Lowth's Letter to the Author of the Divine 
 
 Le;:ation of Moses 
 Lucas's Inquiry concerning Happiness 
 Luciani Opera 
 Lucretius 
 Lux Orientalis 
 Lytlelton's Persian Letters 
 Lyttelton's History of Henry the Second 
 , Lyttelton's Observations on the Conversion of 
 
 St. Paul 
 
 Ludlam's Two Essays on Justification, and the 
 Influences of the Spirit 
 
 Marknight*3 Truth of the Gospel History 
 Mackni^ht's Harm, of the Four Gospels 
 iMacldine's Letters to So.inie Jenyns 
 Maciaurin's View of Sir Isaac Newton's Philo- 
 sophy 
 Madan's Thelyphthora 
 Maillard s Miraculous Cure 
 Maimonides IMore Nevochim 
 Main Argument 
 IMalebranclie s Researches 
 Mandeville s Free Thoughts 
 Manne Dissertatio de veris Annis Jes. Christi 
 Mnnne s Critical Notes 
 Marcus Antoninus 
 Markii Medulla 
 
 Marria-^e and its Vows defended 
 Marsh's Miclnelis 
 
 Marsh's Authenticity of the five Books of 
 Moses 
 
 Martin's Dissertation on 1 John v. 7. 
 
 Martin's Grammar 
 
 Mason on Self Knowledge 
 
 M.ison's Sermons 
 
 Mason's Student and Pastor 
 
 Maty's Review 
 
 Mauduit's Case of the Dissenting Ministers 
 Maundrel's Travels. 1703 
 Maurice's Sermon on Perseverance 
 Maurice's Dialogues on Social Religion 
 Maurice's Sermon on the Appearing of the 
 
 Tribes 
 I\I<;de's Works 
 Mode's Diatrit>e 
 Medical Essays 
 
 Medley s Translation of Kolben 
 Melmoth's Pliny 
 
 M< moirs of the Literary and Philosophical 
 
 Society of Manchester 
 Memoirs of Literature 
 Michslis's Spicilegium 
 
 Michaelis's Introduction to the New Testament 
 Michatlis Epistola* de Ixx Heobdomadibuu 
 
 Danielis. Nota* ct Epimetra, in Lowthium 
 Middleton's Life of Cicero 
 MiddK ion'i Miscellaneous Works 
 Middleton's Introductory Discourse toa larger 
 
 VV'ork 
 
 Middleton's Remarks on two Pamphlets 
 Middleton's Free Inquiry into Miraculous 
 Powers 
 
 Middleton's Vindication of the Free Inquiry 
 Middleton's Examination of Sherlock ou Pro- 
 phecy 
 
 Millar's Propagation of Christianity 
 Millar on the En;;Iish Government 
 Millennianism considered 
 Mills's Prolegomaena 
 Mills's Greek Testament 
 Milton's Paradise Lost 
 Milton's Prose Works 
 Milton on Divorce 
 Minntiiis Felix 
 
 Miralicau Systeme de la Nature 
 Mitford's History of Greece 
 Mole's Sermon on Moral Virtue 
 Momma 
 
 Monboddo (Lord) on the Origin and Progress 
 
 of Lafi;;uai;e 
 Monboddo's Ancient Metaphysics 
 Monro's Comparative Anatomy 
 Montaigne's Essiiys 
 M'jfttcMjuieu'N Spirit of Laws 
 Mffritesi|uieu Lettres Persunnes 
 Montlily Review 
 
 Moody on the Words Alcim and Berith 
 
 Moore's Sermon on Miracles 
 
 Moore's Dispositions of Natural and Revealed 
 
 Religion 
 More's Theological Works 
 Morc's Immortality of the Soul 
 Mort-'s Philosophical Works 
 More's Enchiridion 
 More's Divine Dialogues 
 More on Fundamentals 
 More's (Sir Thomas) Utopia 
 More on Suicide 
 
 Morer's Dialogues on the Sabbath 
 Morgan's Moral Philosopher 
 Morris's Sermons 
 
 Morton'- Queries, addressed to Dr. Law 
 
 Mosheim Comincntarii de Rebus Christianis 
 
 Mosheim Institutioncs Majorcs 
 
 Mosbeim's Ecclesiastical History 
 
 Mountfaucon''s Travels 
 
 Moyle's Works 
 
 Moyle's Posthumous Works 
 
 Mudge on the Psalms 
 Muscheubroek's Natural Philosophy 
 
 Nature displayed 
 
 Neaps History of New England 
 
 Nelson on the Government of Children 
 
 Nelson (Dr.) on Virtue and Happiness 
 
 New Adventures of Telemachus 
 
 Newcome's (Bp.) Observations on the Charac- 
 ter of our Lord as a Divine Instructor 
 
 Newcome's Review of Difficulties concerning 
 the Resurrection 
 
 New Practice of Piety 
 
 New Translation of tlieNew Testament 
 
 Newton's (Sir Isaac) Chronology 
 
 Newton's Princtpia. I7I4 
 
 Newton's Third Letter to Dr. Bentley 
 
 Newton's Letters to Le Clerc 
 
 Newton on Daniel 
 
 Newton on the Apocalypse 
 
 Newton's (Bp.) Dissertations on the Prophe- 
 cies 
 
 Newton's Works 
 Nichols's Conference with a Deist 
 Nieuwenlytt's Religious Philosopher 
 Nisbett's Vindication of the 3IiracuIous Con- 
 
 cc ptiou 
 No Prc-existenre 
 No Proof of an Intermediate State 
 Norris's Miscellanies 
 
 Notes to the New Edition of Hartley on Man 
 Nye on Natural and Revealed Religion 
 Nye ou the Canon 
 
 Objections to Lindsey's Interpretation of Jolm 
 i. 1 — 14. 
 
 Observations on Middleton's Introductory Dis- 
 course 
 
 Observations on the Case of the Protestant 
 Dissenters 
 
 Observations on tli« Conduct of the Protestant 
 Dissenters 
 
 Observations on Mr. Lofft's History of the 
 
 Corporation and Test Acts 
 Obsopii Sibyllina Oracuta. 1507 
 Occasional Paper 
 Ockley's History of the Saracens 
 Ogden's Sermous on Prayer 
 Old Whig 
 
 0|iinions respecting Christ examined and 
 
 tried by Scripture Evidence alone 
 Origen contra Celsum. I(i58 
 Ori-inal Dran;;ht 
 
 Orl(tn's Six Discourses on the Observation of 
 
 the Lord's Day 
 Ostervald on Uncleanuess 
 Ostervald de I'Exercise deMinistere 
 Oswald's Appeal to Common Sense in Belialf 
 
 of Relii^ion 
 Oswald a^'aiu'it the Use of Animal Food 
 Ovid's Metamor|dioses 
 Outram de Sicrificiis 
 Owen (J.) on the Spirit 
 Owen oil Scripture Ordination 
 Owen's Pncuniatolo^y 
 Owen on the Hebrews 
 Owen on Understanding the Scripture 
 Owen on the Person of Christ 
 Owen on 'Apostasy 
 Owen's Dissertitions on Serpents 
 Owen's (Henry) Observations ou the Four G<^- 
 
 pcls 
 
 Owcit's Modes of Quotation used by the Evan- 
 gelical Writers 
 
 Paley's Principles of Moral and Political Phi- 
 
 htsophy 
 Paley's Horie Paulinse 
 
 Palmer's (S.) Vindication of the modern Dis- 
 senters 
 
 Palmer's (J.) Observations in Defence of t!»e 
 
 Liberty of Man, as a m4)ral Agent 
 Palmer's Appendix to the Observations 
 Palmer's Examination of Thelyphthora 
 Parker's Law of Nature 
 
 Parker's Expediency of the Miraculous Powers 
 
 of the Fatners 
 Parkhurst's Demonstration of the Divinity of 
 
 Christ 
 
 Parliamentary History of Ent;land 
 Parry's Vindication of Public and Social Wor- 
 ship 
 
 Parry's Remarks on the Resolutions in the 
 
 County of Warwick 
 Pascal's TlM)uglits 
 Passcran's Philosophical Inquiry 
 Patriarchal Sabbath 
 Patrick on the Old Testament 
 Pearce's Answer to Woolstou 
 
d42 
 
 CATALOGUE OF AUTHORS 
 
 Pearson on (lie Creed 
 
 lV;irson"s PosUuinioiis Works 
 
 IVrkard's Observations on tlic Doctrine of an 
 
 InlPrnu'tiiate State 
 Peckard's Furtlier Observations on tlie same 
 
 Doctrine 
 Pejjge of Demoniacs 
 Peircc's Vindication of the Di'ssenters 
 Peiroe on tlie Epistles 
 Peircc on the Eucluirist 
 Pennant's Arctic Zoology 
 Penn's Remarks on Theiyplithora 
 Percy's Soni^ of Solomon newly translat. 
 Pereronius de Oriyine Gentium 
 Persii Satyra*. 1(371 
 Peter's Critical Dissertation on Joh 
 Petitpierre's Thoughts on Divine Goodness 
 Plicciiix 
 
 Philemr>n to Hydaspcs 
 
 Philonis Jndsei Opera. 1742 
 
 Philosophical Transiictions 
 
 Philosophical Survey of the Animal Creation 
 
 Pliotii Bibliothcca. 161 1 
 
 Phocyisdes 
 
 PicarVs ReH*i!:ious Ceremonies of nil Nations 
 Pilkin^ton's Remarks on several Passages of 
 Scriptnre 
 
 Pindar's Olympiads. Translat. by AVest. 
 Pinto's Essay on Luxury 
 Pitiscns in Suetonium 
 Pitiscus's Lexicon 
 
 Plan of a Supplement to Middleton's Free In- 
 qniry 
 
 Plato's Phaedo. — de Leg;ibus 
 
 Pliny's Natural History 
 
 Pliny's Epistles 
 
 Plutarch's Lives 
 
 Plutarch's Moral Works 
 
 Plutarch on the CeJisint? of Oracles 
 
 Po!ig:nac's Anti- Lucretius 
 
 pope's Iliad 
 
 Pope's Etliical Epistles 
 
 Pope's Essay on Criticism 
 
 Pfipe's Essay on Man 
 
 Pope's Divine Worship 
 
 Pope on the Miraculous Conception 
 
 Person's Letters to Archdeacon Travis 
 
 Porteus's Sermons 
 
 Porter's Answer to Hawker 
 
 Potter's Arcliapolojiia 
 
 Powell's Defence of Subscriptions 
 
 I'receptor 
 
 Price's Review of Morals 
 Price's Correspond, witli Dr. Priestley 
 Price's Four Dissertations 
 Price's Observations on the Nature of Civil 
 Liberty 
 
 Price's Sermon at St. Thomas's 
 Prideaux's Connection 
 Pridennx's Life of Mahomet 
 Priestley's Disijuisitions concerning Matter 
 and Spirit 
 
 Priestley's Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity 
 
 illustrated 
 Priestley's Letter to Mr. Palmer 
 Priestley's Second Letter to Mr. Palmer 
 Priestley's Letter to Mr. Bryant 
 Priestley's Institutes 
 
 Priestley's Letters to a Philosophical Unbe- 
 liever 
 
 Priestley's Essays on the first Principles of 
 
 Civil Government 
 Priestley's Letters to a Vonng Man 
 Priestley's Sermon on the Resurrection 
 Priestley's Appeal to the serious and candid 
 
 Professors of Christianity 
 Priestley's General View of the Arguments for 
 
 the Unity of God 
 Priestley's History of the Corruptions of 
 
 Christianity 
 Priestley's Reply to the Animadversions on 
 
 the History 
 Priestley's Letters to Dr Horsley 
 Priestley's Remarks on the Monthly Review 
 
 of the Letters to Dr. Horsley 
 Priestley's History of the early Opinions con- 
 
 certiing Jesus Christ 
 Priestley's Dcfcnre.s of Unilarianism, for the 
 
 Years 1786, 1787, 1788, and 1789 
 Priestley's Sermons 
 Priestley on Education 
 
 Priestley's Address to Protestant Dissenters 
 
 on the Lord's Supper 
 Priestley's Address on fiivin< it to Cliildrcn 
 Priestley's Sermons on the Test Act 
 Priestley's Familiar Letters to the Inhabitants 
 
 of Birminftliam 
 Priestley s Sermon on the Public Fast, Feb. 
 
 28, 1704 
 
 Principles of Penal Laws 
 Primatton Mercy lo Brute Animals 
 Protestant System 
 
 Protestarjt Dissenter's Answer to Priestley on 
 
 the Lord's Supper 
 I*ublic Prayer 
 
 Putfendorf s I^aw of Nature and Nations 
 Pntl'endorf de Officio Hominis. With Cacr- 
 
 niichal's Notes 
 Pye's Moses and Bolinf^broke 
 Pyle on the Old Testament 
 
 Radclift''s Letters to the Prelates 
 Ralphi Epistola- Miscellanea* 
 Ralplisoii de Spatio reali 
 
 lianisay's Philosophical Principles of Natural 
 and Revealed Reli;:ion 
 
 Ramsay's Travels of Cyrus 
 
 Ramsay on the Slave Trade 
 
 Ramsay's Vindication of the Trinity 
 
 Ramsay's Second Vindication 
 
 Ramsay's Virulication of the Worship of the 
 Son and Holy Ghost 
 
 Ramsay's Letter to the Remarker on the Lay- 
 man's Scriptural Confutation 
 
 Randolph's Reasonableness of Subscription 
 
 Randuljih's (Mr ) Scriptural Revision of So- 
 cinian Arguments 
 
 Raphelii Annotatiunes 
 
 Rapin-s History of England 
 
 Rawlins on Justification 
 
 Ray's Wisdom of God in the Works of the 
 
 Creation 
 Ray's Three Discourses 
 Real's (St.) Works 
 Reasons lor Unitarianism 
 Reasons for seeking a Repeal, by a Dissenter 
 Hedi de Generatione Insectorum 
 liecs's Rijiht of Maintenance 
 Reeves's Aimlogies 
 
 Refleclii.ns on the Oaths which are tendered 
 
 lo Subjects in this Country 
 Refleetimis on Polygamy 
 Retlertiuns on the Dispute between Lowth and 
 
 Warburton 
 Reid on the Intellectual Powers of Man 
 Reid on the Human Mind 
 Reid's Essays oti the Active Powers of Man 
 Reiinarus's Dissertations 
 
 Reimarus's Truths of Natural Religion de- 
 fended 
 
 Remarks on Wakefield's Inquiry 
 Remarks on Dr. J. Gregory's Essays 
 Remarks on Lowth's Letter to Warburton 
 Remarks on Gibbon's History 
 Remarks (a few) on the same 
 Remarks on Lindsey's praying to Christ 
 Remarks on Warburton's Account of the Sen- 
 timents of the Jews 
 Repul)lic of Letters 
 Restoration of the Jews and Israelites 
 Review of the Case of the Dissenters 
 Reynault's Plulosophical Conversations 
 Reynol.is's Works 
 Reynolds's Letter to a Deist 
 Reynolds on the Angelic World 
 Rieanl's Ottoman Court 
 RichartN's History of Antichrist 
 Richie's Scripture Account of Sacrifices 
 Ricliic's Peculiar Doctrines of Revelat. 
 Ridgley's Body of Divinity 
 Rid^ley on Original Sin 
 Ridley on the Spirit 
 Ridley on the Christian Revelation 
 Ridley at Moyer's Lecture 
 Rii^ht of Prot. Dissenters to Toleration 
 Robertson's Hist')ry of Charles the Fifth 
 Robertson's Sertn. f)n Christ's Appear. 
 Robertson's History of America 
 Robertsfin's Clavis Bihlica. IfJSfi 
 Rc)binson's Plea for Christ's Divinity 
 Robinson's History of Baptism 
 Robinson's Ans. to Bonnet's I>ond. Cases 
 Robins's Edit, of Henry on Baptism 
 Roliaiilt's Physica 
 
 itollin's Method of teaching and studying the 
 
 Belles Lettrcs 
 Rollin's Ancient History 
 
 Rotherham's Essay on the Distinction between 
 
 the Soul and Body of Man 
 Rotherham's Essay on Human Liberty 
 Rotherham's Essay on Faith 
 Rousseau's New Heloise 
 
 Rudd on the Question, Whether is Archangel 
 Michael our Saviour? 
 
 Ruthcrforth's Visitation Charge on Subscrip- 
 tions 
 
 Ruther for th's. Second Vindication 
 Ruthcrforth's Defence of the Ciiar^c 
 
 Ruthcrforth's Essay on Moral Virtue 
 Rymer on Revelation 
 
 Sacheverel's Trial 
 SalL'''s Koran 
 
 Siilnioii's State of Turkey 
 Saiidys's Travels 
 
 S.ilter.s" Hall Sermons against Popery 
 S;iva^e's Discourse at Ford's Ordination 
 Sava;ie's Serm. at the King's Acce.ssion 
 Savage's Discourse on the Lord's Supper 
 Saui in's Sermons 
 SauriiTs Dissertations 
 Schonibers's View of Roman Law 
 Scottish Confessions and Directory 
 Scott's Christian Life 
 Scott's Works 
 
 Scott's (T.) Translat. of the Book of Jo-b 
 
 Scott's (I).) Denioustrat. of the Trinity 
 
 Scott's Translation of St. Matthew 
 
 Scott's (J.) Scrip. Doc. of the Trinity 
 
 Scougal's Works 
 
 Scour;;e for the Dissenters 
 
 Scripture Doctrine relating to Oaths and 
 
 Vows, Leagues and Covenants 
 Scudder's Christian Daily Walk 
 Search's Light of Nature pursued 
 Search's Free Will, Forekn. and Fate 
 Seeker on the Church Catechism 
 Seed's Sermons 
 
 Sehlen de Jure Natnra? et Gentium 
 Selden dc Diis Syriis 
 Self- Love, Sec. reconciled by Religion 
 Seneca? Controversite, apud Opera. 1614 
 Seneca; Epistolae 
 
 Sermons at Boyle's Lecture on the Certainty 
 
 and Necessity of Relii;ton 
 Shaftesbury's Characteristics 
 Shaftesbury's Letter to a Student 
 Shakespeare 
 
 Sharpens (Gregory) Second Argument 
 Sharp's (T.) Two Dissertations on the Wordi 
 
 Ehhim and Berith 
 Sharp's Review and Defence 
 Sharp on Hutchinson's Cherubim 
 Sharp's fAbp.) Sermons 
 Shaw's Travels 
 
 Shepherd's Examination of the Socinian Ex- 
 position 
 
 Shepherd on Angels 
 
 Sherlock on Providence 
 
 Slierl'jck on Judgment 
 
 Sherlock's (Bp.) Discourses 
 
 Sherlock's Dissertations on Prophecy 
 
 Slierlock's Trial of the Witnesses 
 
 Sherlock's Argument against a Repeal of tlie 
 Corporation and Test Acts 
 
 Shuckford's Connexion of Sacred and Profane 
 History 
 
 Sidney on Government 
 
 Simon's Crit. Hist, of the Old Testament 
 
 Simon on the Text of the New Testament 
 
 Sini|)Iicius in Epictetum 
 
 Smijtson's Sermon on Public Worship 
 
 Six Letters on Intolerance 
 
 Slavery, a Poem 
 
 Sloss on the Trinity 
 
 Sniallhroke against AVooIston 
 
 Smith's Optics 
 
 Smith's (S.) Essay on the Varieties of the Hu- 
 man Species 
 
 Sn)ith's (A.) Theory of Moral Sentim. 
 
 Smith's fW.) Longinus 
 
 Smith's Polygamy indefensible 
 
 Smyth to a Member of the Ch. of Eng. 
 
 Smyth's Remarks on the Itcsulutions oftbo 
 Archdeaconry of Chester 
 
 Snelgrave's Guinea 
 
 Solini Polyhistor 
 
 Some's Funeral Sermon for Saimders 
 Some's Method for reviving Religion 
 South's Sermons 
 South against Sherlock 
 Spnnheim Historia Ecclesiaslica 
 Sparlianusde Vita Severi 
 Spectator 
 
 Snelman's Translat. of Halicarnassensis 
 
 Si)cncer de Le;:ibus Hebraeorum 
 
 Spirit of the Constitution, and that of the 
 
 Church of Eniil-md compared 
 Squire's Irreligion indefensible 
 Squire on the Anulo-Saxon Government 
 S(pnre's Theophilus Cantabrigiensis 
 Stanyan's Grecian History 
 Stebbing's Discourse on Providence 
 Stebbing on Divine Providence 
 Stcbbing against Forstcr 
 StefT's Five Letters 
 Stcti'on an Intermediate State 
 
REFERRED TO IN THE LECTURES. 
 
 643 
 
 Stennel's Remarks on Addiugton 
 Stephens's Culculatioii 
 Stephenson u.:iiiii>t Woolstoii 
 Sterne's I'osthunnous Sermons 
 Sterry on Free Will 
 Stevenson against Popery 
 Stevenson's Sermon at Alway's Ordin. 
 Stewart's (Diigald) Elt-ments of the IMii- 
 
 losnpliy of the Tinman Mind 
 Stillingfleel's Ori^infs Sacrie 
 Stillin^eet on Christ's Satisfaction 
 Stonehonse on Universal Restitution 
 Stonehonse's Account of the Controversy with 
 
 Woolslon 
 
 Stonelionse's Universal Restitution a Christian 
 
 Doctrine 
 Strauchius*s Chronology 
 Strictures on a "late Pulilication for tlie Repeal 
 
 of the Test Act 
 Stuart's Essay on the Eng. Constitution 
 Stubb's Uialojiue on Pleasure 
 Sturges's Discourses 
 Suetonius 
 
 Suireri Thesaurus. IC82 
 Sulhvan's Law Lectures 
 Superviile's Sermons 
 Swinden on Hell 
 
 Sydenham's Version of the Lesser Hippias of 
 
 Plato * 
 Sykes's Connec. of Nat. and Rev. Relig. 
 Sykes on Redemption 
 Sykes on Sacrifices 
 Sykes against VVarburton 
 Sykes's Inquiry into the Demoniacs 
 Sykes's Further Inquiry 
 Sykes ou Miracles 
 Sykes on the Hebrews 
 Sykes on Christianity 
 Sykes on Ph!»';jon's Testimony 
 Sykes's Two (iuestions 
 
 Sykes's Inquiry concerning the Resurrection 
 of tho Body 
 
 Taciti Annales 
 
 Taciti Historia 
 
 Tavernier's Voyajfe.'s. 1679 
 
 Taylor's fJt remy) Worthy Communicant 
 
 Taylor (Abraham) on Faith 
 
 Taylor on the Trinity 
 
 Taylor apiinst Watts 
 
 Taylor (Daniel) on Deism 
 
 Taylor on Failli 
 
 Taylor (J.) Elements of the Civil Law 
 
 Taylor's Summary of the Roiumi Law 
 
 Taylor's (J.) Scripture Acr. of Prayer 
 
 Taylor's Scheme of Divinity 
 
 Taylor's Scripture Doctrine of Ori^. Sin 
 
 Taylor's Supplement to the same 
 
 Taylor's Lord's Supper explained on Scripture 
 
 Principles 
 Taylor's Scripture Doc. of Atonement 
 Taylor's Key to Apostolic Writinf^s 
 Taylor's Paraphrase on the Romans 
 Taylor's Covenant of Grace 
 Taylor's Sketch of Moral Philosophy 
 Taylor (H.) on the Grand Apostasy 
 Taylor's Further Thoughts on ditto 
 Taylor's Apology of llenj. Ben Mordecai 
 Taylor's Practical Discourses 
 Telemaque. 1719 
 Temple's History of England 
 Temple's Miscellanies 
 Temple on the Netherlands 
 Temple's Works 
 
 Temple's Remarks on the Layman's Scriptural 
 
 Confutation 
 Temple's Letters (o Dr. Randolph 
 Temple on the Lord's ^upper 
 Tenison on Idolatry 
 Tenison Tertulliani Opera. 1675 
 Theological Repository 
 Thomson's Seasons 
 Thorndike on Religious Assemblies 
 Thoughts-on the Extension of Penal Laws 
 Tillard's Reply to Warburton 
 Tillemonl's Life of Apollonius 
 Tillotson's Sermons 
 
 Tindal's Christianity as old as Creation 
 Tindal's Rijjhts of the Christian Church 
 Toland's Pantheisticon 
 Toland's Letter to Serena 
 Toland's Amyntor 
 
 Toll s Def. of Middlelon's Free Inquiry 
 ToU's Remarks on Church's Vindication of 
 
 Miraculous Powers 
 Toller's Sermons on the Lord's Supper 
 Tomkins's Sober Appeal 
 Tomkins's Christ Ujc Mediator 
 Toplady's Absolute Predestination 
 
 Toplady's Letter to John Wesley 
 Toplady's More Work for John Wesley 
 Toplady's Chris, and Pliilos. Necessity 
 Tottie's Charge on the 39 Articles 
 Toulrnin's Short Essay on Baptism 
 Toulmin's Dissertations on the internal Evi- 
 
 deuces of Christianity 
 Towgood's Dissenting Gentleman's Answer to 
 
 White 
 
 Towgood's Inf. Bap. a reasonable Service 
 Towgood on the .Mode of Baptism 
 Towers's (John) Polygamy unscriptural 
 Towers's (Joseph) Vindication of the Political 
 
 Principles of Mr. Locke 
 Towers's Review of the genuine Doctrine of 
 
 Cliristianity 
 Tract on Circumcision 
 Travels of Anacharsis the Younger 
 Travis's Letters to Edw. Gibbon, Esq. 
 Trial of tlie Seven Bishops 
 Trommii Lexiou 
 Truman's Moral Impotency 
 Tucker's Apology for tiie Ch. of England 
 Tucker's Letters to Dr. Kippis 
 Tucker on Government 
 Turner at Boyle's Lecture 
 Turretini Opera 
 
 Twells to Sykes on tlie Demoniacs 
 'I'wells's Further Answer 
 
 Twells s Examination of the New Translation 
 
 of the New Testament 
 Tyrius Maximus 
 
 Unitarian Tracts 
 Universal History (Ancient) 
 Unlawfulness of Polygamy evinced 
 Usher's Annals 
 
 Van'laie deOraculis 
 
 Vanini Amphitheatrum Providentiie 
 
 Varenii Geo^itaphia. 1672 
 
 Vattci's Law of Nations 
 
 Vattel s (Questions de Droit naturel 
 
 Vertot's Revolutions of Rome 
 
 Vindtcatio Mentis 
 
 Virgil's ^neid 
 
 Vitringse Observationes 
 
 V oltaire's History of Charles the Twelfth 
 
 Voltaire on Toleration 
 
 Voltaire's Miscellanies 
 
 Voyage to the World of Cartesius 
 
 Wakefield's Remarks on the Internal Evi- 
 
 dences of the Christian Religion 
 Wakefield's Inquiry into the Authority, Pro- 
 priety, Uc. of Public Worship 
 Wakefield's General Reply 
 Wakefield's Essay on Inspiration 
 Wakefield's Inquiry into the Opinions of 
 
 Chris. Writers on Christ's Person 
 Wakefield's Short and plain Account of the 
 
 Nature of Baptism 
 Wakefield's Address to the Inhabitants of 
 
 Nottingham 
 Wakefield's Cursory Reflections 
 Wake's Preliminary Discourse 
 Walker's Dissenters' Plea 
 Wall's Def. of Inf. Baptism, ag. Gale 
 Wallace on the Numbers of Mankind 
 Wallace's Various Prospects of Mankiu'l, 
 
 Nature, and Providence 
 Wallis's Letter on the Trinity 
 Wallis on the Sabbath 
 Walton's Prolegomena 
 Walton's (Isaac) Lives 
 Warburton's Divine Legation of Moses 
 Warburton's Alliance between Church and 
 
 State 
 
 Warburton's Doctrine of Grace 
 Warburton's Sermons 
 Warburton's Julian 
 Warburton's Occasional Remarks 
 Ward's Dissertations on various Passages of 
 Scriptiire 
 
 VVarton's Essay on the Genius and Writings 
 of Pope 
 
 Waferland's Dissertation on the Argument a 
 
 priori. Apud Law's Inquiry 
 VVatf'rl.ind's Scripture vindicated 
 Waterland's Vindication of Christ's Divinity 
 Waterlarul's Sermons 
 Walerland on Regeneration 
 Watson's (T.) Intimations and Evidences of a 
 
 Future State 
 Watson's (Bp.) Apology for Christianity 
 Watts's Lo^ic 
 
 Watts's Philosopliiral Essays 
 
 Watts's Ontology, aptul Philos. Essays 
 
 Watts on the Passions 
 
 Watts on Liberty 
 
 Watts's Evangelical Discoiirses 
 
 Watts's Holiness of Times and Places 
 
 Watts's Ruin and Recovery 
 
 Watts's Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity 
 
 Watts's Dissertations on the Trniity 
 
 Watts's useful and important Questions 
 
 Watts's Redeemer and Sanctifier 
 
 Watt* on Infidelity 
 
 Watts's Rational Foundation of a Christian 
 Church 
 
 Watts's Harmony of all the Religions that 
 
 God ever prescribed 
 Watts's Humble Attempt 
 Watfs's Death and Heaven 
 Watts's Itnprovement of the Human Mind 
 Watts's Essay on the Freedom of the Will 
 Watts's Hymns 
 W.'tts's Tracts 
 Watts ou Self-lMurder 
 W^atts on Humility 
 Watts's Miscellanies 
 Watts on Civil Power in Tilings sacred 
 Watts's Strength and Weakness of Human 
 
 Reason 
 
 Watts's Orthodox and Charity united 
 
 W^atts on the Glory of Christ 
 
 Watts's Contest between Flesh and Spirit 
 
 Watts's World to Come 
 
 Watts on Self- Love and Virtue 
 
 W.itts's Catechism 
 
 Watts's Works 
 
 Weems's Works 
 
 Wells's Geojiraphy of the Old Testament 
 Wells's Geouraphy of the New 
 Welwood's Memoirs 
 Wesley on Original Sin 
 Wesley on Perfection 
 
 WcsU-y's Predestination calmly considered 
 
 Wesley's Letter to the Bishop of (;iouc*'ster 
 
 Weston on the Rejection of Christian Miracles 
 
 Weston's Sermons 
 
 West (Gilttert) on the Resurrection 
 
 Wetstein's New Testament 
 
 Whitby's Ccrtiinty of the Christian Faith 
 
 Whitby's Last Thoughts 
 
 Winston's Life 
 
 Whislon's Primitive Christianity 
 
 W'histon's Essay on the Text of the Old 
 Testament 
 
 Whislon's Commentary 
 
 Whiston on the Millennium 
 
 Wbiston on Scripture Projihecics 
 
 Whislon's Theory of the Earth 
 
 Whiston's Primitive Eucharist 
 
 Whislon's Astronom. Princip. of Religion 
 
 Winston on the Eternity of Hell Torments 
 
 Whiston's Vindication of the Sybilline Orac. 
 
 Whiston on I'hletion's Testimony 
 
 WMiiston against Collins 
 
 Whiston's Rem. on Newton's Chronol. 
 
 W^histon's Account of Dt nioniars 
 
 Whislon's Description of the Temple 
 
 Winston's Primitive Baptism 
 
 Whitaker's Dialogues on the Trinity 
 
 Whitaker's Origin of Arianism disclosed 
 
 White's Sermon at the Bamptr)n Lecture 
 
 White's Restitution of all Things 
 
 Wilkins on Natural History 
 
 Wilkins's Real Character 
 
 Wilkins's World in the Moon 
 
 Williams's (John) Inquiry into the Authen- 
 ticity of Matt. i. and ii. 
 
 Williams's Appendix to the Imiuiry 
 
 Williams's (Helen) Epistle to Mr. Pitt 
 
 Williams's Observations on Kennicott's Sermon 
 from Isaiah vii. 14 
 
 Williams tAI)p.) at Boyle's Lecture 
 
 Williams's (Daniel) Works 
 
 Williams's Gospel Truth 
 
 Williams's (Edw.) Antipa'dobaptis-m examined 
 Willis de Anima Brutorum 
 Wills's Remarks on Polyuamy 
 Wilson's Defence nf Public Worship 
 Wilton's Review of the 39 Articles 
 Winchester's Outcasts comforted 
 Winchester's Universal Restoration 
 Winder's History of Knowledge 
 Wis'-arl's Reformation Sermon 
 Witringham's Exility of the Vessels of the 
 Ilody 
 
 Witsii (Economia Fa'derum 
 
 Witsii Meletemata 
 
 Witsii j^^gyptiaca 
 
 Wolfii Curae Philolof-icae 
 
 Wollaston's Reri;;ion of Nat. delineated 
 
 Woodivard's Natural History 
 
 Woolston's Six Discourses 
 
 Works of the Learned 
 
CATALOGUE OF AUTHORS, &c. 
 
 "World unniaskeil 
 
 Worlhinstoii on tl\p Lord's Supper 
 VVortliiiii;l(in s Imparti.il Inquiry into the 
 
 Gospel Drmnni.ics 
 Worthini;toM'» Further Inquiry 
 Wcirthinston's ExtiMit of Redemption 
 Wotton's Miscelliinies 
 Wolton s (Sir Henry) Life 
 Wright against Mole 
 
 Wri(;lit on tlie Sahliath 
 Wrif^hl's <Jrcat <'oncern 
 Wright on Virtue 
 
 Wyvil's Tliouglils on the Artie, of our Relig. 
 
 Xenophon's Memorabilia 
 Xenophon's ('yropa^dia 
 
 Vatess Letter in Def. of Dr. Middleton 
 
 Young's Night Thoughts 
 
 Young's (Arthur) Dissertation on the Gospe 
 
 Demoniacs 
 Young on Idolatry 
 Young's (Kdward) Sermons 
 
 Zarah, or Christianity before Judaism 
 Zouch's Inquiry into the Poetical Cliaractero 
 the Romans 
 
SETS OF SERMONS, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN, 
 TO THE YOUNG, 
 
 POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST, AND EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, 
 
 AND 
 
 ON REGENERATION. 
 
 2 N 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 I' 
 I 
 
SERMONS 
 
 ON THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Church of Christ, in Xorihamptoii, under my ministerial care. 
 My dear Friends, 
 
 As I reckon the providence whicli fixed me with you, in the pastoral relation, amongst the most singular 
 blessings of my life, I would always retain a sense of those engagements which it brings me under, to 
 labour to the utmost for your spiritual improvement. And through the divine goodness, I find it a de- 
 lightful work ; as your candid and serious temper adds a freedom and pleasure, both to my public 
 ministrations and private converses with you. 
 
 I take this opportunity of renewing the assurances I have often given you, that I could gladly con- 
 verse with you more frequently at home ; did not the other work, in which I am engaged as a tutor, 
 demand so large a share of my time. I heartily thank you, that you so kindly consider it, and make all 
 the allowances for it I could reasonably desire. 
 
 I trust, God is my witness, that it is a sincere concern for his glory, and the interest of a Redeemer in 
 the rising age, that has determined me to undertake the additional labour of such an employment : and 
 as you voluntarily chose to sacrifice something of your private satisfaction to these great and important 
 views, I hope you will have the pleasure to see them answered, and that you yourselves will not, on tlie 
 whole, be losers by them. You know, it is my desire, that as my pupils advance in the course of their 
 preparatory studies, they would endeavour by their religious visits, conversation, and prayer, to supply 
 in part, that lack of service to you, which my care for them nuist necessarily occasion ; and it is as a 
 further supply of it, that I now oflcr you these Sermons on the Religious Education of Children, which 
 you heard from the pulpit some months ago. 
 
 The indulgence and thankfulness with which you then received them, is one instance, amongst many 
 others, of your relish for plain and practical preaching. When some of you expressed your desire that 
 they might be made more public, I confess I knew not well how to deny you ; and I was the more willing 
 to comply with your request, because it is a subject which cannot be often handled, so largely, in the 
 course of preaching. 
 
 That tender concern for you and yours, which led me to treat of Education, engaged me also to 
 manage it in such a manner, as I apprehended might be most for your advantage and for theirs ; that is, to 
 make it, as far as I could, a warm and serious address to you. I have likewise, for the same reason, 
 retained that form in transcribing them for the press ; though I am sensible it might have appeared more 
 fashionable and jjolite, to have cast them into a difl'erent mould, and to have proposed my remarks in a 
 more cool and general way. 
 
 It is indeed my deliberate judgment, that there is an important dilTerence between popular discourses 
 and philosophical essays. The more I converse with the most celebrated speakers of antitjuity, tlie more 
 I am confirmed in that thought: and I will take the liberty to add, that, for the sake of common Cliris- 
 tians, I could wish it were more generally considered. Rut whether in this respect I am in the right or 
 the wrong, I must say with the a[)ostle to the (Jorinthians, lirctiircn, it is for your sakes. 
 
 I would not willingly disgust persons of elevated genius and refined education ; but I must confess, 
 the great labour of my life is to bring down my discourses to common apprehensions, and to impress the 
 consciences of men by them in sul)servicncy to the momentous design of their eternal salvation. And as 
 I am your shepherd, and you in a peculiar manner the people of my care, whom God has conmiitted to 
 my hand, and of whom he will require an account from me, I would always cherish a peculiar concern 
 for you ; and desire that, whenever I appear amongst you, my heart may overflow with a kind of pater- 
 nal tenderness for you. There arc, perhaps, some traces of this in these Discourses, which a severe 
 critic may censure, and a profane wit may deride ; nevertheless I have a (cheerful hope, tliat flicy will 
 be accepted by God and approved by you. If divine grace render them useful to others, I would own it 
 as an additional favour; and that they might be so, I have diligently avoided whatever might offend 
 any serious reader ; yet they are yours by a peculiar claim. For you \ composed them ; for you I pub- 
 lished them ; and to you I now present them ; humbly commending them and you to the blessing of God, 
 and entreating your continued prayers that it may attend all the labours of 
 
 Your very afiectionate brother, and obliged servant, in our common Lord, 
 
 Newingtov, Juhj 14, 1732. 
 
 2 \ 2 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
THE RECOMMENDATORY PREFACE. 
 
 Thf. subject of the following; discourses is of high importance to the interest of religion, and justly 
 claims a share in our labours, if we would fulfil tlie ministry we have received in the Lord, and give a 
 good account of it anotlicr day. Tliis led tlie author to insist upon it, in the congregation under his care. 
 What was delivered from the indjiit met with a favourable reception, and many who lieard these Ser- 
 mons, have importunately desired they might be published, for tlie benelit of others. I have perused 
 tlicm w ith some attention, and such special satisfaction, that 1 heartily concur in the same request. 
 
 The neglect of the rising generation, which so generally ]>revails, ought, surely, to awaken our serious 
 concern for it: and I persuade myself, that the present attempt will be welcome to all who arc duly 
 impressed with that concern ; for so far as I am capable of judging, it is well adapted to answer its 
 intended purposes. The method is natural and easy, the language correct, the reasoning strong, the 
 address pathetic and convincing ; and the whole is so agreeably adjusted, that I can with pleasure 
 recommend it as a valuable and useful performance. 
 
 The peculiarities of the Christian scheme are frequently and pertinently interspersed through tlic 
 several parts of this work ; which will be acceptable to them, who have tasted that the Lord is gracious. 
 I look upon these as the brightest ornaments of practical discourses ; and when they are introduced in 
 this view, it must evidently appear, that the principles of our holy religion are not merely refined 
 speculations for the entertainment of curious and iutiuisitive minds, but doctrines according to godli- 
 ness, and the great support of virtue and goodness in the world. When arguments are drawn from the 
 glorious dispensation of the grace of God, to i)crsuade us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to 
 live soberly, righteously, and godly ; such endearing motives represent duty in its mo.st amiable light, 
 and have a most direct tendency to engage our cheerful compliance. It deserves our serious consider- 
 ation, whether this be not a proper method to prevent the growtli of infidelity ; if not to reclaim those, 
 wliosc ars^iments against the sacred Scriptures are mere btUiter and ridicule, and who aae gone so far as 
 to glory in their contempt of the gospel; yet, at least, to prevent the spreading of that dangerous 
 infection. 
 
 It has been justly observed by an excellent person,* whose practical writings meet with that general 
 acceptance which they so justly deserve, " That when men have heard the sermons of their ministers, for 
 many years together, and find little of Christ in them, they have taken it into their heads, that they may 
 go safe to heaven without Christianity." And this I apprehend will ever be the consequence, if we so 
 lay the whole stress of our moral obligations on the reason and fitness of things, as to neglect that Saviour 
 who gave himself for us, to redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous 
 of good works. When Christian preachers seldom mention redemption and salvation by the Son of God, 
 unless it be to expose an absurd sense, which some have put upon those doctrines; and thereby more 
 artfully slur them, than by a direct and open attack ; they cannot expect their hearers should have any 
 great regard for them. Their people will be insensibly led into this conclusion, that they have little 
 concernment with any thing in the New Testament but the morality of it, and that the other parts of the 
 gospel may be neglected without hazard to their souls. And when they have advanced thus far, the next 
 step will be, to set tlie inspired writings on a level with heathen authors, whose moral sentiments are 
 aduured, though there are many poetical fictions and fabulous stories intermixed with them. 
 
 The apostles took a dill'ereut method, and constantly supported their instructions by considerations 
 peculiar to the gospel of Christ. And if our schemes in religion will not permit us to follow their 
 example, and we feel a secret unwillingness to form ourselves on their model, lest our discourses should 
 not be polite and rational, we have reason to fear we are declining from that faith which they once 
 delivered to the saints. But if we copy after these wise master-builders, we may hope the hand of the 
 Lord will be with us; and that we shall see somethini? of that Divine success attending our labours, 
 «liich so remarkably accompanied theirs, when many believed and turned unto the Lord. And they, who 
 ha\e experienced the powerful influences of the gospel, in forming their hearts and lives for God, will be 
 no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with ^very wind of doctrine, by the sleight and 
 <'raftiness of men, nor easily prevailed upon to part with it. And I am confirmed in this opinion, by 
 observing that deism makes little progress in those auditories, where the distinguishing doctrines of 
 Christianity are frequently and judiciously considered. 
 
 For this reason, I would hund)ly propose the following composures to the imitation of younger minis- 
 ters. And I cannot but indulge a reasonable expectation, that those who are forming for the service of 
 the sanctuary under the instructions of the learned and worthy author, having so good a pattern daily 
 b»'forc them, will appear in our assemblies with a fixed resolution to exalt a Redeemer in all tiieir minis- 
 trations ; that they will stand as pillars in the temple of our God, and be the ornaments and supports of 
 the Clhristian cause, when their fathers shall sleep in the dust. 
 
 As the subject of these Sermons is no matter of controversy, but plain and important duty, one would 
 hope they will not fall under the severe censure of any. At least, I am fully persuaded, that humble 
 and serious Christians, whose chief concern is to know and do their duty, will find agreeable entertain- 
 ment, and much profitable instruction, in the perusal of them. 
 
 D. SOME. 
 
 * Dr. M'atts, 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 I HOPE the reader will pardon me, tliat I trouble him with the mention of two things, which, for some 
 obvious reasons, I thought it not proper to omit. 
 
 The one is, that as my very worthy and condescending friend, Dr. Watts, had promised the world an 
 essay on education, I would not have published these papers, without his full approbation of the design, 
 as no way injurious to his; and I have omitted some particulars I might have mentioned, that I might 
 interfere with him as little as possible. 
 
 The other is, that when I came to look over Dr. Tillotson's sermons, and some other treatises on this 
 subject, I found many of the thoughts I had before inserted in my plan. They seemed so obvious to 
 every considerate person, that I did not think myself obliged to mention them as quotations. What I 
 have expressly taken from others, I have cited as theirs in the margin ; and if I have been obliged to any 
 for other thoughts or expressions, which is very possible, though I do not particularly remember it, I hope 
 this general acknowledgment may suffice. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 Proverbs xxii. 6. 
 
 Train up a child in the way he should go, and ichen 
 he is old he will not depart from it. 
 
 It is a ntost amiable and instructive part of the 
 character which Isaiah draws of the great Shepherd 
 of the church, that he should gather the lambs with 
 bis arm, and carry them in his bosom ; a repre- 
 sentation abundantly answered by the tender care 
 which our Redeemer expressed for the weakest of 
 his disciples, and beautifully illustrated by the 
 endearing condescension with which he embraced 
 and blessed little infants. Nor is it foreign to the 
 present purpose to observe, that when he recom- 
 mends to Peter the care of his flock, as the most 
 important and acceptable evidence of his sincere 
 affection to his person, he varies the i)hrase ; in 
 one place saying. Feed my sheep, and in the other. 
 Feed my Iambs. Perhaps it might be in part in- 
 tended to intimate, that the care of a gospel minis- 
 ter, who would in the most agreeable manner 
 , approve his love to his master, should extend itself 
 I to the rising generation, as well as to those of a 
 maturer age, and more considerable standing in the 
 church. It is in obedience to his authority, and 
 from a regard to his interest, that I am now entering 
 on the work of catechising ; which I shall introduce 
 with .some practical discourses on the education of 
 children, the subject which is now before us. 
 
 I persuade myself that you, my friends, will not 
 be displeased to hear that I intend to handle it at 
 large, and to make it the employment of more than 
 a single sabbath. A little reflection may convince 
 
 you, that I could hardly offer any thing to your con- 
 sideration of greater importance ; and that, humanly 
 speaking, there is nothing in which the comfort of 
 families, the prosperity of nations, the salvation of 
 souls, the interest of a Redeemer, and the glory of 
 God, is more apparently and intimately concerned. 
 
 I very readily allow that no human endeavours, 
 either of ministers or parents, can ever be effectual 
 to bring one soul to the saving knowledge of God 
 in Christ, without the cooperating and transforming 
 influences of the blessed Spirit. Yet you well 
 know, and I hope you seriously consider, that this 
 does not in the least weaken our obligation to the 
 most diligent use of proper means. The great God 
 hath stated rules of operation in the world of grace 
 as well as of nature ; and though he is not limited 
 to them, it is arrogant, and may be dcstru(^tive, to 
 expect that he should deviate from them in favour 
 of us or ours. 
 
 We live not by bread alone, but by every word 
 that proceedeth out of the mouth of God ; and were 
 he determined to continue your lives, or the lives 
 of your children, he could no doubt feed or support 
 you by miracle : yet you think yourselves obliged 
 to a prudent care for your daily bread, and justly 
 conclude, that were you to neglect to administer it 
 to your infant offspring, you would be chargeable 
 with their murder before God and man ; nor could 
 you think of pleading it as any excuse, that you 
 referred them to a miraculous divine care, whilst 
 you left them destitute of any human supplies. 
 Such a plea would only add impiety to cruelty, and 
 greatly aggravate the crime it attempted to palliate. 
 As absurd would it be for us to flatter ourselves with 
 a hope that our children should be taught of God, 
 and regenerated and sanctified by the influences of 
 
550 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 his prace. if we ne^lec-t that pnidcnt and religious 
 rare in their edueation which it is my business tliis 
 day to describe and recommend, and wliich Solo- 
 mon urges in the words of my text: Train up a 
 child in the way he should go ; and when he is old, 
 he will not depart from it. ■ 
 
 I need not oiler you many critical remarks on so 
 plain and intelligible a passage ; you will easily ob- 
 serve, that it consists of an important advice, ad- 
 dressed to the parents and governors of children — 
 Train up a child in the way he should go ; and also 
 of a weighty reason by which it is enforced — and 
 when he is old he will not depart from it. 
 
 The general sense is undoubtedly retained in our 
 translation, as it commonly is, but here, as in many 
 other places, something of the original energy and 
 beauty is lost. 
 
 The Hebrew word,* which we render, train up, 
 does sometimes signify, in the general, to initiate 
 into some science or discipline ; and, very fre- 
 quently, to apply any new thing to the use forwhicli 
 it was intended. t It is especially used of sacred 
 things, w hich were solemnly dedicated, or set apart, 
 to the service of God.]: And perhaps it may here 
 be intended to intimate, that a due care is to be 
 taken in the education of children, from a principle 
 of religion, as well as of prudence and humanity ; 
 and tliat our instructions should lead them to the 
 knowledge of God, and be adapted to form them 
 for hi.s service, as well as to engage them to personal 
 and social virtue. 
 
 It is added, that a child should be trained up in 
 the way in which he should go ; § which seems to be 
 more exactly rendered by others, at the entrance, or 
 from the beginning of his way, to express the early 
 care which ouglil to be taken to prevent the preva- 
 lency of irregular habits, by endeavouring, from tlic 
 first dawning of reason, to direct it ariglit, and to 
 infuse into the tender unpractised mind the impor- 
 tant maxims of wisdom and goodness. 
 
 To encourage us to this care, the wise man as- 
 sures us, that we may reasonably expect the most 
 happy consequence from it : that if the young tra- 
 veller be thus directed to set out w ell in the journey 
 of life, there is a fair prospect that he will go on to 
 
 * 'Tjn imbuere, prima rudimenta dare, criidire, docerc, dedicarc. 
 Pagn! initiare. Cocc. Tlie LXX render it, witii an exactness wliicli 
 our lanmuKe ""i" admit, by E7«aii'iCeiv. Il is used also of those 
 atleodant.s of Abraliam, who in the text are callid— liis trained, and in 
 our margin — liis instnictid, servants; Gen. xiv. 14. i. e. probably, 
 formed to military discipline, though relii^ious instruction is not to be 
 excluded. Gen. xviii. -p:n ^ word derived from the same root 
 in the ral)binical writings 'signifies a catechism ; and therefore the 
 mar£;in of our text reads, catechise a child, &c. 
 
 + Tluu it is applied to any new.bnilt house. Dent. xx. 5. to that of 
 David, I'sal. xxx. tit. and to Ihe wall of Jerusalem, Nch. xii.27. 
 
 } Thus il is applied to Ihe dedication of the altar. Numb. vii. 10, 11, 
 R4, 88 2 C'hron. vii. 9. and to that of the temple, I Kings viii. 63. 2 
 Chron. vii. 5. 
 
 ? IDn *C "tS. which the French version renders, S I'entree de son 
 train- yet I am sensible, x when used with 'yf is sometimes an exple- 
 tive, as C;en. xliii. 7. Numb. xxvi. 50. and the learned Glassius, as well 
 mour translators, thought the text another instance of it. — Glass. Phil. 
 Sac. pag. 482. 
 
 its most distant stages, with increasing honour and 
 happiness. Train up a child in the way he should 
 go ; and when he is old, he will not depart from it. 
 
 I shall endeavour to illustrate and enforce this 
 important advice in the following method, which 
 appears to me the most natural, and for that reason 
 the most eligible. 
 
 I. I shall more particularly mark out the way in 
 which children are to be trained up. 
 
 II. Offer some plain and serious considerations, 
 to awaken you to this pious and necessary care. 
 
 III. Direct to the manner in which the attempt is 
 to he made, and the precautions which are to be 
 used in order to render it effectual. And then, 
 
 IV. I will conclude the whole with a more parti- 
 cular application, suited to your different characters, 
 relations, and circumstances of life. 
 
 I am very sensible, that it is a very delicate as 
 well as important subject, which is now before me; 
 I have therefore thought myself obliged more atten- 
 tively to weigh what has occurred to my own 
 meditations, more diligently to consult the senti- 
 ments of others, and above all, more earnestly to 
 seek those Divine influences, without which, I 
 know, I am unequal to the easiest task ; but in 
 dependence on which, I cheerfully attempt one of 
 the most difficult. The result of the whole I humbly 
 offer to your candid examination ; not pretending 
 at any time to dictate in an authoritative manner, 
 and least of all on such an occasion as this ; but 
 rather speaking as to wise men, who are themselves 
 to judge what I say. May the divine assistance 
 and blessing attend us in all. 
 
 First, I am to describe the way in which children 
 are to be trained up. 
 
 Our translation, as I have told you, though not 
 very literal, is agreeable to the sense of the original, 
 The way in which the child should go. And un- 
 doubtedly this is no other than the good old way, the 
 way of serious, practical religion : the way which- 
 God has in his word marked out for us ; the way 
 which all the children of God have trodden in every 
 succeeding age ; the way, the only way, in which 
 we and ours can find rest to our souls. 
 
 But it is not proper to leave the matter thus gene- 
 rally explained. I would therefore more particu- 
 larly observe, — that it is the way of piety towards 
 God, — and of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ; — the 
 way of obedience to parents, — and of benevolence 
 to all ;— the way of diligence, — and of integrity; — 
 the way of humility, — and of self-denial. I am per- 
 suaded, tliat each of these particulars will deserve 
 your serious attention and regard. 
 
 1. Children should undoubtedly be trained up in 
 the way of piety and devotion towards God. 
 
 This, as you well know, is the sum and the 
 foundation of every thing truly good. The fear of 
 the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. The Psalmist 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 651 
 
 therefore invites children to hira, with the promise 
 of instructing- them in it ; Come, ye children, 
 hearken unto me, and I will teach you the fear of 
 the Lord. And it is certain, some right notions of 
 the Supreme Being must be implanted in the minds 
 of children, before there can be a reasonable foun- 
 dation for teaching them those doctrines whicli 
 peculiarly relate to Christ under the character of the 
 Mediator; for he tliat comes unto God (by him) 
 must believe that he is, and that he is the rewarder 
 of them that diligently seek him. 
 
 The proof of the being of God, and some of those 
 attributes of the divine nature in which we are 
 most concerned, depends on such easy principles, 
 that I cannot but think, the weakest mind might 
 enter into it. A child will easily apprehend, that 
 as everj' house is builded by some man, and there 
 can be no work without an author, so he that built 
 all things is God. And from this obvious idea of 
 God, as the Maker of all, we may naturally repre- 
 sent him as very great and very good, that they may 
 be taught at once to reverence and love him. 
 
 It is of great importance, that children early im- 
 bibe an awe of God, and a humble veneration for 
 his perfections and glories. He ought therefore to 
 be represented to them as the great Lord of all ; 
 and when we take occasion to mention to them 
 other invisible agents, wliether angels or devils, we 
 should, as Dr. Watts has most judiciously ob- 
 served,* always represent them as entirely under 
 the government and control of God ; that no senti- 
 ments of admiration of good spirits, or terror of the 
 bad, may distract their tender minds, or infringe 
 on those regards which are the incommunicable 
 prerogative of the Great Supreme. 
 
 There should be a peculiar caution, that when we 
 teach these infant tongues to pronounce that great 
 and terrible name, The Lokd ovn God, they may 
 not learn to take it in vain ; but may use it with a 
 becoming solemnity, as remembering that we and 
 they are but dust and ashes before him. When I 
 hear the little creatures speaking of " the great 
 God, the blessed God, the glorious God," as I some- 
 times do, it gives me a sensible pleasure, and I 
 consider it as a probable proof of great wisdom and 
 piety, in those who liave the charge of tiicir educa- 
 tion. 
 
 Yet great care should be taken not to confine our 
 discourses to these awful views, lest the dread of 
 God should so fall upon them, as that his excel- 
 lences should make them afraid to approach him. 
 We should describe him, as not only the greatest 
 but the best of beings. We should leach them to 
 know him by the most encouraging name of The 
 Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, iong- 
 suflcring, and abundant in goodness and trutli, 
 keeping merc-y for thousands, and forgiving ini- 
 
 ♦ Discourse on Calecliisoi. 
 
 quity, transgression, and sin. We should represent 
 him as the universal, kind, indulgent parent, who 
 loves his creatures, and by all proper methods pro- 
 vides for their happiness. And we should particu- 
 larly represent his goodness to them ; with what 
 more than paternal tenderness he watched round 
 their cradles ; with what compassion he heard their 
 feeble cries, before their infant thoughts could form 
 themselves into prayer: we should tell them, that 
 they live every moment on God ; and that all our 
 atlection for them, is no more than he puts into our 
 hearts ; and all our power to help them, no more 
 than he lodges in our hands. 
 
 We should also solemnly remind them, that in a 
 very little while their spirits are to return to this 
 God ; that as he is now always witli them, and 
 knows every thing they do, or speak, or think, so 
 he will bring every work into judgment, and make 
 them for ever happy or miserable, as they on the 
 whole are found obedient or rebellious. An<l here 
 tlie most lively and pathetic descriptions, which the 
 Scriptures give us, of heaven and of hell, should 
 be laid before them, and urged on their consider- 
 ation. 
 
 W'hen such a foundation is laid, in the belief 
 of the being and providence of God, and of a future 
 state both of rewards and punishments, children 
 should be instructed in the duty they owe to God, 
 and should be particularly taught to pray to him 
 and to praise him. It would be best of all, if from 
 a deep sense of his perfections, and their own neces- 
 sities, they could be engaged to breathe out their 
 souls before him in words of their own, were they 
 ever so weak and broken. Yet you will readily 
 allow, that till this can be expected, it may be very 
 proper to teach them some forms of prayer and 
 thanksgiving, consisting of such plain scriptures, 
 or other familiar expressions, as may best suit their 
 circumstances and understandings. If the Lord's 
 Prayer be taught them, as a form, I hope you will 
 consider, how comprehensive the expressions are ; 
 how fast the ideas rise and vary ; and consequently 
 how necessary it is, that it be frequently and 
 largely explained to them ; lest the repetition of it 
 degenerate into a mere ceremony, as I fear it iloes 
 amongst many, who are perhaps most zealous for 
 its use. 
 
 iJut what I have said, on this head, of piety and 
 devotion, must be considered in an inseparable 
 connexion with what I am to add under the next. 
 
 2. Children must be trained up in the way of 
 faith in the Lord Jesus Chri.st. 
 
 You know, my friends, and I hope many of you 
 know it to the daily joy of your souls, that Clirist 
 is the way, the trutli, and the life ; and that it is by 
 him we have boldness and iiccess witli conOdence 
 to a (iod, wlio might otherwise appear as ;i con- 
 suming (ire. It is therefore of great importance to 
 
652 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 lea«l children betimes into the knowledge of Christ, 
 which is, no doubt, a considerable part of that 
 nurture and admonition of the Lord, which the 
 apostle rcconinicnds, and was perhaps what he 
 principally intended by those words. 
 
 We should therefore teach them betimes, that the 
 first parents of the human race most ungratefully 
 rebelled against God, and subjected themselves and 
 all their ollspring to his wrath and curse. The 
 awful consequences of this should be opened at 
 large, and we should labour to convince them, that 
 they have made themselves liable to the divine 
 displeasure (that dreadful thing !) by their own 
 personal guilt; and thus by the knowledge of the 
 law should we make way for the gospel, the joyful 
 news of deliverance by Christ. 
 
 In unfolding this, great care ought to be taken 
 that we do not fill their minds with an aversion to 
 one sacred person, while we endeavour to attract 
 their regards to another. The Father is not to be 
 represented as severe, and almost inexorable ; hardly 
 prevailed upon by the intercession of his compas- 
 sionate Son to entertain thoughts of mercy and for- 
 giveness. Far from that, we should speak of him 
 as the overflowing fountain of goodness, whose eye 
 pitied us in our helpless distress, whose almighty 
 arm was stretched out for our rescue, whose eternal 
 counsels of wisdom and love formed that important 
 scheme to which we owe all our hopes. I have 
 often had occasion to show you at large, that this is 
 the Scripture doctrine ; our children should be early 
 taught it, and taught what that scheme was, so far 
 as their understandings can receive it, and ours can 
 explain it. We should often repeat it to them, that 
 God is so holy, and yet so gracious, that rather than 
 he would on the one hand destroy man, or on the 
 other, leave sin unpunished, he made his own Son 
 a sacrifice for it, appointing him to be humbled, 
 that we might be exalted, to die, that we might live. 
 
 We should also represent to them, (with holy 
 w onder and joy,) how readily the Lord Jesus Christ 
 consented to procure our deliverance in so expensive 
 a way. How cheerfully he said, Lo, I come ; I 
 delight to do thy will, O my God ! To enhance 
 the value of this amazing love, we should endea- 
 vour, according to our weak capacities, to teach 
 them who this compassionate Redeemer is ; to re- 
 present something of his glories as the eternal Son 
 of God, and the great Lord of angels and men. 
 We should in.struct them in his amazing conde- 
 scension in laying aside these glories, that he might 
 become a little weak helpless child, and afterwards 
 an afllicted sorrowful man. We should lead them 
 into the knowledge of those circumstances of the 
 history of Jesus, which may have the greatest tend- 
 ency to strike their minds, and to impress them with 
 an early sense of gratitude and love to him. We 
 should tell them, how poor he made himself, that 
 
 he might enrich us ; how diligently he went about 
 doing good ; how willingly he preached the gospel 
 to the lowest of the people. And we should espe- 
 cially tell them how kind he was to little children, 
 and liow he chid his disciples when they would 
 have hindered them from being brought to him : it 
 is expressly said, Jesus was much displeased, and 
 said. Suffer little children to come unto me, and 
 forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God. 
 A tender circumstance ! which perhaps was recorded 
 (in part at least) for this very reason, that children 
 in succeeding ages might be impressed and alTocted 
 with it. 
 
 Through these scenes of his life we should lead 
 tliem on to his death : w e should show how easily he 
 could have delivered himself, (of which he gave so 
 sensible an evidence in striking down by one word 
 those who came to apprehend him,) and yet how 
 patiently he submitted to the most cruel injuries, to 
 be .scourged and spit upon, to be crowned with 
 thorns, and to bear his cross. We should show 
 them how this innocent, holy, and divine person 
 was brought as a lamb to the slaughter ; and while 
 they were piercing him with nails, instead of load- 
 ing them with curses he prayed for them, saying, 
 Father, forgive them, for they know not what they 
 do. And when their little hearts are awed and 
 melted with so strange a story, we should tell them, 
 it was thus he groaned, and bled, and died for us, 
 and often remind them of their own concern in what 
 was then transacted. 
 
 We should lead on their thoughts to the glorious 
 views of Christ's resurrection and ascension ; and 
 tell them with what adorable goodness he still re- 
 members his people in the midst of his exaltation ; 
 pleading the cause of sinful creatures, and employ- 
 ing his interest in the court of heaven, to procure 
 life and glory for all that believe in him and love him. 
 
 We should then go on to instruct them in those 
 particulars of obedience, by which the sincerity of 
 our faith and our love is to be approved ; at the 
 same time reminding them of their own weakness, 
 and telling them how God helps us, by sending his 
 Holy Spirit to dwell in our hearts, to furnish us for 
 every good word and work. An important lesson, 
 without attending to which, our instruction will be 
 vain, and their hearing will likewise be vain! 
 
 ,3. Children should be trained up in the way of 
 obedience to their parents. 
 
 This is a command which God recommended from 
 Mount Sinai, by annexing to it a peculiar promise 
 of long life ; a blessing which young persons greatly 
 desire. The apostle therefore observes, that it is 
 the first commandment with promise ; i. e. a com- 
 mand eminently remarkable for the manner in 
 which the promise is adjoined. And it is certainly 
 a wise constitution of Providence, that gives so 
 much to parental authority, especially while chil- 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 553 
 
 dren are in their younger years, their minds being 
 then incapable of judging and acting for them- 
 selves in matters of importance. Children should 
 therefore be early taught and convinced by Scrip- 
 ture, that God has committed them into the hands 
 of their parents ; and consequently, that reverence 
 and obedience to their parents, is a part of the duty 
 they owe to God, and disobedience to them, is rebel- 
 lion against him. And parents should by no means 
 indulge their children in a direct and resolute oppo- 
 sition to their will in matters of greater or smaller 
 moment ; remembering, that a child left to himself 
 brings his parents to shame, and himself to ruin ; 
 and with regard to subjection, as well as aft'ection, 
 it is good for a man to bear the yoke in his youth. 
 
 4. Children should be trained up in the way of 
 benevolence and kindness to all. 
 
 The great apostle tells us, that love is the ful- 
 filling of the law, and that all those branches of it, 
 which relate to our neighbour, are comprehended in 
 that one word, love. This love, therefore, w e should 
 endeavour to teach them; and we shall find, that in 
 many instances it will be a law to itself, and guide 
 them right in many particular actions, the obliga- 
 tions to which may depend on principles of equity, 
 which lie far beyond the reach of their feeble under- 
 standings. There is hardly an instruction relating 
 to our duty more happily adapted to the capacity of 
 children, than that golden law, (so important to all 
 of the maturest age,) Whatsoever ye would that 
 others should do unto you, do ye so unto them. 
 This rule wc should teach them, and by this should 
 examine their actions. From their cradles we should 
 often inculcate it upon them, that a great deal of 
 religion consists in doing good ; that the wisdom 
 from above is full of mercy and good fruits ; and 
 that every Christian should do good unto all as he 
 has opportunity. 
 
 That such instructions may be welcome to them, 
 we should endeavour, by all prudent methods, to 
 soften their hearts to sentiments of humanity and 
 tenderness, and guard against every thing that 
 woidd have a contrary tendency. Wc should re- 
 move from them, as much as possible, all kinds of 
 cruel and bloody spectacles, and should carefully 
 discourage any thing barbarous in their treatment 
 of brute creatures ; by no means allowing them to 
 sport themselves in the death or pain of domestic 
 animals, but rather teaching them to treat the poor 
 creatures kindly, and take care of them ; the contrary 
 to which is a most detestable sign of a savage and 
 malignant disposition. The merciful man regardeth 
 the life of his beast. 
 
 I We should likewise take care to teach them the 
 odiousness and folly of a selfish temper, and en- 
 courage them in a willingness to impart to others, 
 what is agreeable and entertaining to themselves: 
 Especially we should endeavour to form them to 
 
 sentiments of compassion for the poor. We should 
 show them where God has said, Blessed is the man 
 that considereth the poor, the Lord will remember 
 him in the day of trouble. He that hath pity upon 
 the poor, lendeth to the Lord, and that which he 
 hath given, will he pay him again. And we should 
 show them, by our own practice, that we verily 
 believe these promises to be true, and important. 
 It might not be improper sometimes to make our 
 children the messengers, by which we send some 
 small supply to the indigent and distressed ; and if 
 they discover a disposition to give something out of 
 the little stock we allow them to call their own, 
 we should joyfully encourage it, and should take 
 care that they never lose by their charity, but that 
 in a prudent manner we abundantly repay it. It is 
 hardly to be imagined, that children thus brought 
 up, should, in the advance of life, prove injurious 
 and oppressive ; they will rather be the ornaments 
 of religion, and blessings to the world, and probably 
 will be in the number of the last whom Providence 
 will suffer to want. 
 
 6. Children should be trained up in the way of 
 diligence. 
 
 This should undoubtedly be our care, if we have 
 any regard to the welfare, either of their bodies or 
 their souls. In whatever station of life they may 
 at length be fixed, it is certain there is little pros- 
 pect of their acquitting themselves with usefulness, 
 honour, and advantage, without a close and reso- 
 lute application ; whereas the wisest of princes and 
 of men has said, Seest thou a man diligent in his 
 business ; he shall stand before kings, he shall 
 not stand before mean men. And it is evident, 
 that a diligent prosecution of business keeps one 
 out of the way of a thousand temptations which 
 idleness seem to invite, leading a man into number- 
 less instances of vice and folly, because he has 
 nothing else to do.* 
 
 A prudent and religious parent will therefore be 
 concerned that his children may not early contract 
 so pernicious a habit, nor enter upon life like per- 
 sons that have no business in it, but to crowd the 
 stage, and stand in the way of those who are better 
 employed. Instead of suft'ering them to saunter 
 about from place to place, (as abundance of young 
 people <lo, to no imaginable purpose of usefulness, 
 or even of entertainment,) he will quickly assign 
 them some employment for their time : an employ- 
 ment so moderated, and so diversified, as not to 
 overwhelm and fatigue their tender spirits ;t yet 
 sullicient to keep them wakeful and active. Nor is 
 this so dillicult as some may imagine ; for children 
 are a busy kind of creatures, naturally fond of 
 
 * Tims it is saiil of jEgistlms, 
 
 Nc nil agcrPtur, amavit. — Oinrf. 
 
 + Ncc sum adto yistatiiin iranruilciis, iit iiist iiiduni leiiciis protintis 
 
 accrbc pntem, cxi^'eiidanxnic pleiiam Oiicram ; Lusus liicsit, 
 
 — Quintil. Oral. lib. i. ca|). 1. 
 
551 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 learnin'T new tilings, and trying and sliowing- what 
 tlu-y can do. So tliat, 1 am persuaded, were |)cr- 
 lect inactivity to be imposed upon them as a 
 penance, but for one hour, they would be lieartily 
 weary of it, and would be glad to seek their refuge 
 from it, in almost any business you would think 
 lit to employ them about. 
 
 Thus should tliey be disciplined in their infant 
 years, should early be taught the value of time, 
 and early accustomed to improve it, till they grow 
 fit for some calling in life ; in which they should at 
 length be placed with this important maxim deeply 
 engraven upon their minds, " That full employ, in 
 whatever service they are fixed, is a thing by no 
 means to be dreaded, but, on the contrary, greatly 
 to be desired." 
 
 I shall conclude this head with the mention of a 
 very remarkable law amongst the Athenians, which 
 ordained, " That those who had been brought up to 
 no employ by their parents, should not be obliged 
 to keep them, if they came to want in their old age ; 
 which all other (legitimate) children were."* 
 
 6. Children should be trained up in the way of 
 integrity. 
 
 Simplicity and godly sincerity is not only a very 
 amiable, but an essential, part of the Christian 
 character ; and we are every one of us indispensably 
 obliged to approve ourselves Israelites indeed, in 
 whom there is no allowed guile. And this is a 
 circumstance that will peculiarly require our re- 
 gard, in the education of our children, and of all 
 young persons under our care. 
 
 It is very melancholy to observe, how soon the 
 artifices and deceits of corrupt nature begin to dis- 
 cover themselves. In this respect we are trans- 
 gressors from the womb, and go astray almost as 
 .soon as we are born, speaking lies. Great care 
 therefore .should be taken to form the minds of 
 children to a love for truth and candour, and a sense 
 of the meanness as well as the guilt of a lie. We 
 should be cautious, that we do not expose them to 
 any temptations of this kind, eitiier by unreasonable 
 severities, on account of little faults, or by hasty 
 surprises, when inquiring into any matter of fact, 
 which it may seem their interest to disguise by a 
 falsehood : and when we find them guilty of a 
 known and deliberate lie, we should express our 
 horror of it, not only by a present reproof or cor- 
 rection, but by such a conduct towards them for 
 some time afterwards, as may plainly show them 
 how greatly wc are amazed, grieved, and displeased. 
 When so solemn a business is made of the first 
 faults of this kind, it may be a means of prevent- 
 ing many more. 
 
 I will further add, that we ought not only thus 
 severely to animadvert upon a direct lie, but like- 
 wise, in a proper degree, to discourage ail kinds of 
 
 * Potter's Greek Antic), vol. i. p. 142. 
 
 equivocations and double meanings, and those 
 little tricks and artifices, by which they may endea- 
 vour to impose on each other, or on those that are 
 older than themselves. We should often inculcate 
 upon them that excellent scripture. He tiiat walkoth 
 uprightly, walkcth surely, but he that perverteth 
 his way, (that twists and <listorts it with the per- 
 plexities of artifices and deceit,) shall at length be 
 known, f Be showing them every day how easy,, 
 how pleasant, how honourable, and how advanta- 
 geous, it is to maintain a fair, open, and honest 
 temper; and on the other hand, what folly there is 
 in cunning and dishonesty in all its forms ; and 
 how certain it is, that by studying and practising 
 it, they take the readiest way to make themselves 
 noxious and useless, infamous and odious. Above 
 all, should we remind them, that the righteous 
 Lord loveth righteousness, and his favourable coun- 
 tenance beholds the upright; but lying lips are 
 such an abomination to him, that he expressly de- 
 clares. All liars shall have their part in the lake 
 which burneth with fire and brimstone. 
 
 7. Children should be trained up in the way of 
 humility. 
 
 This is a grace, which our Lord particularly 
 invites us to learn of him, and most frequently 
 recommends to us ; well knowing, that without it, 
 so humbling a scheme as he came to introduce, 
 would never meet with a welcome reception. And 
 with regard to the present life, it is a most lovely 
 ornament, which engages universal esteem and 
 allection ; so that before honour is humility. On 
 the whole we find, he that exalteth himself is abased, 
 and he that humbleth himself is exalted, both by 
 God and man. 
 
 A regard therefore to the ease, honour, and hap- 
 piness of our children, should engage us to an 
 early endeavour of checking that pride, which was 
 the first sin, and the ruin of our natures ; and 
 diffuses itself so wide, and sinks so deep into all 
 that draw their original from degenerate Adam. 
 We should teach them to express humility and 
 modesty in their converse with all. 
 
 They .should be taught to treat their superiors 
 with peculiar respect, and should at proper seasons 
 be accustomed to silence and reserve before them. 
 Hence they will learn in some degree the govern- 
 ment of the tongue ; a branch of wisdom, wliich, in 
 the advance of life, will be of great importance to 
 the quiet of others, and to their own comfort and 
 reputation. 
 
 Nor should they be allowed to a.ssume airs of in- 
 solence towards their equals; but rather be taught 
 to yield, to oblige, and to give up their right for the 
 sake of peace. To this purpose I cannot but think 
 it desirable, that they should be generally accus- 
 tomed to treat each other with those forms of 
 
 + Prov. X. 9. rpSO (a Vpl') l'"<^ '""<^ ttcxit.— Past- 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 665 
 
 civility and complaisance, which are usual among 
 well-bred people in their rank of life. I know 
 these things are mere trifles in themselves, j et they 
 are the out-guards of humanity and friendship, and 
 effectually prevent many a rude attack, which, 
 taking its rise from some little circumstance, may 
 nevertheless be attended with fatal consequences. 
 I thought it proper to mention this here, because 
 (as Scougal very justly and elegantly expresses 
 it)* " These modes are the shadows of humility, 
 and seem intended to show our regard for others, 
 and the low thoughts we have of ourselves." 
 
 I shall only add further, that it is great impru- 
 dence and unkindness to children, to indulge them 
 in a haughty and imperious behaviour towards 
 those who are most their inferiors. They should 
 be made to understand that the servants of the 
 family are not their servants, nor to be under their 
 government and control. I the rather insist upon 
 this, because I have generally observed, that where 
 young people have been permitted to tyrannize over 
 persons in the lowest circumstances of life, the 
 humour has shamefully grown upon them, till it 
 has diffused insolence and arrogance through their 
 behaviour to all about them. 
 
 Lastly, Children should be trained up in the v, ay 
 of self-denial. 
 
 As without something of this temper we can 
 never follow Christ, or expect to be owned by him 
 as his disciples ; so neither indeed can we pass 
 comfortably through the world. For, whatever un- 
 experienced youth may dream, a great many dis- 
 tasteful and mortifying circumstances will occur in 
 life, which will unhinge our minds almost every 
 hour, if we cannot manage, and in many instances 
 deny, our appetites, our passions, and our humours. 
 We should therefore endeavour to teach our chil- 
 dren this important lesson betimes ; and if wc 
 succeed in our care, we shall leave them abund- 
 ' antly richer and happier, in this rule and possession 
 I of their own spirits, than the most plentiful estates, 
 or the most unlimited power over others, could 
 make them. 
 
 When a rational creature becomes the slave of 
 appetite, he sinks beneath the dignity of the human 
 nature, as well as the sanctity of the Christian pro- 
 fession. It is therefore observable, that when the 
 apostle mentions the three grand branches of prac- 
 tical religion, he puts sobriety in the front ; periiaps 
 to intimate, that where that is neglected, the other 
 cannot be suitably regarded. " The grace of V.od 
 e. the gospel) teaches us, to live soberly, right- 
 
 IcQusly, and godly." Children therefore, as well as 
 young men, should he exhorted to be sober-minded ; 
 
 'and they should be taught it, by early .self-denial. 
 It is certain, that if their own appetite and taste 
 were to determine the kind and quantity of their 
 
 * Scoiigal's Life of God, pag. 43. 
 
 food, many of them would quickly destroy their 
 constitution, and perhaps their lives ; since they 
 have often the greatest desire for those things 
 which are the most improper. And it seems justly 
 observed by a very wise man, (who was himself a 
 melancholy instance of it,) " That the fondness of 
 mothers for their children, in letting them eat and 
 drink what they will, lays a foundation for most of 
 those calamities in human life, which proceed from 
 bodily indisposition."! Nay, I will add, that it is 
 the part of wisdom and love, not only to deny what 
 would be unwholesome, but. to guard against in- 
 dulging them in too great a nicety, either of food or 
 dress. People of sense cannot but see, if they 
 would please to consider it, that to know how to 
 fare plainly, and sometimes a little hardly, carries 
 a man with ease and pleasure through many cir- 
 cumstances of life, which to luxury and delicacy 
 would be almost intolerable. 
 
 The government of the passions is another branch 
 of self-denial to which children should early be 
 habituated ; and so much the rather, because, in an 
 age when reason is so weak, the passions are apt to 
 appear with peculiar force and violence. A prudent 
 care should therefore be taken to repress the exor- 
 bitances of them. For which purpose it is of great 
 importance, that they never be suffered to carry any 
 point by obstinacy, noise, and clamour, which is 
 indeed to bestow a reward on a fault that deserves a 
 severe reprimand. Nay, I will venture to add, that 
 though it be very inhuman to take pleasure in mak- 
 ing them uneasy by needless mortifications, yet 
 when they are eagerly and intemperately desirous 
 of a trifle, they ought, for that very reason, some- 
 times to be denied it, to teach them more nioderii- 
 tion for the future. And if by such methods they 
 gradually learn to concjuer their little humours and 
 fancies, they learn no inconsiderable branch of true 
 fortitude and wisdom. I cannot express this better, 
 than in the words of Mr. Locke, | in his excellent 
 treatise on the subject before us : " He that has 
 found out the way to keep a child's spirit easy, 
 active, and free, and yet at tiic same time to restrain 
 him from many things which he has a mind to, and 
 draw him to things uneasy to him, has got the true 
 secret of education." 
 
 I have sometimes been surprised to see, how far 
 a sense of honour and praise has carried some 
 children of a generous temper, in a long and reso- 
 lute course of self-denial. But undoubtedly the 
 n()l)lest principle of all is a sense of religion. Happy 
 would it indeed be, if they were led to see, that 
 there is but very little in this kind of gratifications 
 and indulgences ; that the world itself is but a poor 
 enn)ty trifle ; and that the great thing a rational 
 creature should be concerned about, is to please 
 
 T liaxtrr's Pr.ic(ical AVorks, vol, iii. pag. 746. 
 t Locke on Kiliication, } 46. 
 
 I 
 
556 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 God, and get well to lic.ivcii. May divine grace 
 teach us this important lesson for ourselves, that we 
 may transmit it with the greater advantage to our 
 children ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 Proverbs xxii. 6. 
 
 Train up a child in the tcaij he should go, and when 
 lie is old, he will not depart from it. 
 
 It is certainly a very pleasing reflection to every 
 faithful minister of the gospel, that the cause in 
 which he is engaged, is the most henevolent, as well 
 as the most religious ; subserving the glory of God 
 by promoting the happiness of mankind. It must 
 be a great satisfaction to a man of integrity and 
 humanity, to think that it is not his business to 
 dazzle and confound his hearers with the artifices 
 of speech, to give the appearances of truth to false- 
 hood, and importance to triiles ; but to teach them 
 to weigh tilings in an impartial balance, and by the 
 words of truth and soberness, to lead them into the 
 paths of wisdom and of goodness. 
 
 This is a satisfaction which I peculiarly find this 
 day, while I am urging you to that religious care in 
 the education of children, which I have at large 
 opened in the former discourse. And it is a cir- 
 cumstance of additional pleasure, that I am pleading 
 the cause of the weak and the helpless ; of little 
 tender creatures, who are incapable of pleading for 
 themselves, and know not how much their interest 
 is concerned. Nor am I without a secret hope, that 
 if the Divine Spirit favour us with his assistance, 
 some who are yet unborn may have eternal reason 
 to rejoice in the fruits of what you are now to hear. 
 Amen. 
 
 Having already endeavoured to describe the way 
 in which children are to be trained up ; I now pro- 
 ceed, 
 
 Secondly, to propose some arguments to engage 
 parents to this pious care. 
 
 And here I would entreat you distinctly to con- 
 sider, — that the attempt itself is pleasant ; — you 
 have great reason to hope it may be successful, — 
 and that success is of the highest importance. 
 
 I. The attempt itself is pleasant. 
 
 I speak not merely of the pleasure arising from 
 the consciousness of discharging present duty, and 
 a probable view of future success ; such a satisfac- 
 tion may attend those actions, which are in them- 
 selves most painful and mortifying. But I refer to 
 the entertainment innncdiately llowing from the 
 employment itself, when rightly managed. Tliis is 
 
 undoubtedly one of tliose ways of wisdom, which 
 are ways of pleasantness, as well as a path, which 
 in its consequences Is peace and happiness : it is a 
 commandnient, in keeping of which there is great 
 reward. 
 
 The God of nature has wisely annexed a secret 
 unutterable delight, to all our regular cares for the 
 improvement of our rising oll'spring. We rejoice to 
 see our tender plants llourish, to observe how the 
 stock strengthens, and the blossoms and the leaves 
 successively unfold. We trace with a gradually 
 advancing pleasure, their easy smiles, the first efforts 
 of speech on their stammering tongues, and the 
 dawnings of reason in their feeble minds. It is a 
 delightful office to cultivate and assist opening 
 nature,* to lead the young strangers into a new 
 world, and to infuse tlie principles of any useful 
 kind of knowledge which their age may admit, and 
 their circumstances require. But when we attempt 
 to raise their thoughts to the great Father of spirits, 
 to present them, as in the arms of faith, to Jesus 
 the compassionate Shepherd, and teach them to in- 
 quire after him ; when we endeavour to instruct 
 them in the principles of divine truth, and form 
 them to sentiments of prudence, integrity, and gene- 
 rosity ; we find a pleasure superior to what any 
 other labour for their improvement can give. 
 
 On this occasion, my friends, I persuade myself 
 I may appeal to the repeated experience of many 
 amongst you. Do you not find that the sweetest 
 truths of Christianity, wliich are your hope and 
 your joy in this house of your pilgrimage, are pecu- 
 liarly sweet when you talk them over with your 
 children ? Do you not find that your instructions 
 and admonitions to them return into your own 
 bosom with a rich increase of edification and re- 
 freshment ? Thus, while you are watering these 
 domestic plantations, you are watering also your- 
 selves ; and from these holy converses with your 
 children, you rise to more endearing communion 
 with your heavenly Father : God by his Spirit 
 visiting your souls in the midst of those pious cares, 
 and giving you immediate comfort and strength, as 
 a token of his gracious acceptance, and perhaps as 
 a pledge of future success. This leads me to urge 
 the reliyious education of children, 
 
 II. By the probability there is, that it will be at- 
 tended with such success as to be the means of 
 making them wise and good. 
 
 This is the argument urged by Solomon in the 
 text. Train up a child in the way in which he 
 should go, and when he is old he will not depart 
 from it. Being early initiated into the right way, 
 he will pursue it with increasing pleasure ; so that 
 
 * Deliylitfnl task ! to rear the tender thought, 
 To teath llic youiiK idea how to slioot, 
 To puiir the fresh instruction o'er the mind, 
 
 and plant 
 
 The generous purpose iu the glowing breast. 
 
 Thorns. Spring. 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 567 
 
 with regard to the prosperity of the soul, as well as 
 of the body, his path will be like the morning light, 
 which shinclh more and more unto the perfect day. 
 
 It is true, this assertion is to be understood with 
 some limitation, as expressing the probability, 
 rather than the certainty, of the success ; otherwise 
 experience would contradict it in some melancholy 
 instances. Would to God there were none untract- 
 able under the most pious and prudent methods of 
 education ; none, who like deaf adders stop their 
 ears against the voice of the most skilful charmers, 
 and have been accustomed to do so from their in- 
 fancy ! Would to God there were none of those 
 who appeared to set out well, and seemed eager in 
 inquiring the way to Zion with their faces thither- 
 ward, who have forgotten the guides of their youth, 
 and the covenant of their God, and arc to this day 
 wandering in the paths of the destroyer, if tliej- are 
 not already fallen in them ! But do you throw by 
 every medicine which some have used without being 
 recovered by it ; or decline every profession of 
 which there are some who do not thrive ? What 
 remedy must you then take ? what calling must you 
 then pursue? The application is obvious. It would 
 be folly to pretend to maintain that religious edu- 
 cation will certainly obtain its end ; but let me en- 
 treat you to consider, — that it is in its own nature a 
 very rational method, — that it is the nitthod whicli 
 God has appointed, — and a method which in many 
 instances has been found successful. Attend seri- 
 ously to these remarks, and then judge whether 
 prudence and conscience will not oblige you to 
 pursue it. 
 
 1. The religious education of children is a very 
 rational metliod of engaging them to walk in the 
 way in which they should go. 
 
 There is this most evident advantage attending 
 our early attempts of this kind, that wc shall find 
 I the mind more open and disengaged, not tainted 
 I with all those corrupt principles, nor enslaved to 
 i those irregular habits, which they would probably 
 imbibe and contract in the advance of age. Though 
 the paper on which we would write the knowledge 
 of God be not entirely fair, it is clear of manv a 
 foul inscription and deep blot, «ilh which it would 
 soon be covered. Though the garden, in which we 
 would plant the fruits of holiness, be not free from 
 weeds, yet many of them are but (as it were) in the 
 invisible seed, and the rest are not grown up to that 
 luxuriant size, which we must expect, if due cul- 
 tivation be omitted or delayed. 
 
 It is a further advantage which deserves to be 
 mentioned here, that infancy and childhood is the 
 most impressible age ; and as principles are then 
 mo.st easily admitted, so they are most firmly re- 
 tained. The ancients, those judicious observers of 
 human nature, as well as many modern writers, arc 
 full of this remark in their discourses on education, 
 
 and illustrate it by a great many beautiful allusions, 
 which are well known. 
 
 The new vessel takes a lasting tincture from the 
 liquor which is first poured in.* The soft clay is 
 easily fashioned into what form you please. f The 
 young plant may be bent with a gentle hand ; and 
 the characters, engraved on the tender bark, grow 
 deeper and larger with the advancing tree.]: It 
 will be our wisdom then to seize these golden op- 
 portunities ; and so much the rather, as it is certain 
 they will either be improved or perverted ; and 
 that, if they are not pressed into the service of 
 religion, they will be employed as dangerous artil- 
 lerj' against it.|| 
 
 But you will say, " With all these advantageous 
 circumstances we cannot infuse grace into the 
 hearts of our children ; and after all our precau- 
 tions, corrupt nature will prevent us, and fix a 
 wrong bias on the mind, before we can attempt to 
 direct it aright." A mournful, but too evident, 
 truth ! which, far from denying or suppressing, I 
 would often declare and inculcate ; and the rather 
 now, as it greatly confirms my argument. Are the 
 influences of a degenerate nature unavoidably so 
 strong, and will you sufl'er them to be confirmed by 
 these additional advantages ? Do you apprehend, 
 that running with the footmen, you shall be in 
 danger of fainting ? and do you for that very reason 
 choose to contend with the horsemen ? You cannot 
 sure, in the face of so much reason and scripture, 
 urge this as an excuse against making any attempts 
 at all of this kind ; and how then is it an apology 
 for the neglect of those, which are (other things 
 being equal) the most rational and easy ? But the 
 trifling plea is more evidently silenced, by observing, 
 
 2. The religious education of children is a method 
 which God has appointed ; and this greatly in- 
 creases the probability of its success. 
 
 I assuredly know, (and may God more deeply 
 engrave it on our hearts !) that with regard to your 
 labours, as well as ours, neither is he that plaiiteth 
 any thing, nor he that watereth, but (iod that 
 givcth the increase. But consider, I beseech you, 
 how that increase is to be hoped for: is it in the 
 omission, or in the use, of prescribed means ! I urge 
 it on your consciences, my friends, that religious 
 education is an ordinance of God, which, therefore, 
 you may reasonably hope he will honour with a 
 blessing. And you might as justly expect, that 
 
 Quo scmcl esf iml>iitn rerens, sprvnbit odorcm 
 Testa i\ni.—//orat. Episl. lib. i. No. 2, v. fiO, 70. 
 + Udniii ct nioile latum cs : nunc, nunc properantlus, et acri 
 
 Fin^inilDS sine fine rota.— fern. Snt. III. v. 22, 2.3. 
 Et NalurA tcnaci.isimi snmti.i cornni, qiia.' rudibtis annia percipimiia ; 
 nt «apnr, fjuo nova imbua<i, durat ; nt-c tannrum colon's, fiuibiis .sim- 
 plex illc candor mulatus est, elui possunt — pHin/i(. Oral. lib. i. 
 cap. I. 
 
 Ut corpora ad qiiosdam membrorum Hexns formari, ni.si tenera, non 
 possunt, sic atiimos quuque ad pleraquc duriores robur ipsum facit. — 
 Ibid. 
 
 } Bates's Work.9, papf. f).36. 
 
 II liar ip^a magis pcrtiiiacifcr haercnt, qua; pcjora simi.— Quinlil. 
 Oral. lib. i. cap. I. 
 
558 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 your souls sliould flourisli in an iinncrcssary absence 
 from the taMo and house of the Lord, or an 
 liabitual neglect of reading and prayer, as that 
 your children should grow up for God, while you 
 fail in your endeavours to engage them in his ser- 
 vice. I repeat it again, religious education is an 
 ordinance of (lod. And is it a work of labour and 
 didiculty to |)rove the assertion .' Which of you 
 does not know, that Christian parents arc solemnly 
 charged to bring up their children in the nurture 
 and admonition of the Lord; and that even under 
 the Mosaic economy, God urged it on his people in 
 a vciy affecting manner? Surely you must have 
 observed, how strictly ilod charges it upon the 
 Jews to take all opportunities to this purpose, 
 occasional, as well as stated. These words, says 
 he, which T command thee this day, shall be in 
 thine heart ; and thou shalt teach them diligently 
 to thy children, and shalt talk of them when tliou 
 sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by 
 the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou 
 risest up. And elsewhere. Thou shalt teach them 
 to thy sons and thy sons' sons: plainly recom- 
 mending a care of more remote, as well as immedi- 
 ate descendants, of grand-children as well as 
 children. Thus when God established a testimony 
 in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, he com- 
 manded the fathers, that they should make them 
 known unto their children ; that the generation to 
 come might know them, even the children that 
 should be born, that they should arise and declare 
 them unto their children ; that so religion might be 
 transmitted to every rising age. You cannot be 
 ignorant of such passages as these, which need no 
 comment to explain them, and consequently you 
 cannot but know, that the religions education of 
 children is a divine institution, as well as in itself 
 a most rational attempt : after which you will not 
 wonder to hear, 
 
 3. That it has in fact been attended with very 
 happy success. 
 
 We acknowledge, that the great God does not 
 confine himself to work by this way ; and that he 
 sometimes displays his sovereignty in visibly turn- 
 ing out of it. We acknowledge, that he sometimes 
 leaves those who had been, as it were, born and 
 brought up in his family, to forsake it in a very 
 scandalous manner ; while he seems to go into the 
 very territories of Satan, into ignorant, carnal, and 
 profane families, and takes from thence persons, 
 whom he erects as trophies of free, surprising, and 
 (as Mr. Howe justly expresses it) "unaccountable 
 grace." But you well know, that these are more 
 rare and uncommon cases : and though some of 
 you, my friends, are (and I hope you will never for- 
 get it,) happy instances of the singular divine 
 goodness ; yet most of you, as I a|)prclicnd, were 
 from your childhood trained up in the knowledge 
 
 of (Jod, and are living monuments of the success 
 which has attended the care of parents or masters 
 in this particular. The greater part of those, who 
 have of late been admitted to your communion, 
 have, to my certain knowledge, mentioned it with 
 thankfulness ; and I rejoice to think how many of 
 tiie rising generation amongst us (if even a child 
 may be known by his doings) are like to increase 
 the number, and give us an encouraging hope that 
 they will at length be set as olive-plants around the 
 Lord's table, as well as yours. I persuade myself 
 it is so elsewhere, and think I may pronounce it 
 with some confidence, that the families of God's 
 cliildren are, generally speaking, the nurseries of 
 his churcli. Solomon, no doubt, had observed that 
 a good education had generally been successful, or 
 we could by no means account for the remark in the 
 text ; and a very accurate writer of our own age and 
 nation has carried it so far as to say, " That of all 
 the men we meet with, nine parts in ten arc what 
 they are, good or bad, useful or not, according to 
 their education."* 
 
 I hope you are by this time convinced, that, 
 humanly speaking, there is great probability, that 
 religious education may be the eil'ectual means of 
 promoting serious piety in the rising age ; which 
 was the second argument by which I was to recom- 
 mend it : an argument, which may be greatly 
 strengthened by observing, 
 
 in. That the success, which we may so reason- 
 ably expect, is a matter of very high importance. 
 
 It is of evident importance — to tiie honour of God 
 and the support of religion, — to the present and 
 future happiness of your children, — and to your 
 own comfort both in life and death. W^eiglity and 
 comprehensive thoughts ; which I shall briefly 
 touch,! and to which I beg you will renew your 
 attention. 
 
 1. The honour of God, and the interest of a Re- 
 deemer, is greatly concerned in the behaviour of 
 your children ; and consequently in your care of 
 their education, which is likely to have so great an 
 influence upon it. 
 
 We live in a dying world. Our fathers, where 
 are they ? Sleeping in the dust, as we must shortly 
 be. We are sure, that in a little, a very little, while, 
 these places must know us no more : and when 
 we are mouldering in the house of silence, who 
 must fill our places in the house of God? Who 
 must rise up in our stead for the support of religion 
 amongst tiiosc that succeed us? From whom can 
 it be expected, but from our children? Yet how 
 can we expect it from these, in the neglect of a 
 method which comes recommended by so many 
 
 * Locke on I^<iiication, ^ 1. 
 
 + I omit iimiiy things wliich mi;,'lit l)C s.iiil on these heads, because 
 1 liave opened tliem more largely in a Sermon on this very subject, 
 The Importance of the Rising Generation, wliicli is tlic first of the 
 Sermons to Young Persons. 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 559 
 
 advantageous circumstances? " Yes," you will 
 perhaps be ready to say, " God will take care of 
 his own cause, and almighty grace will do what we 
 have not attempted, because we knew that we could 
 not accomplish it." Almighty grace can indeed do 
 it ; and almighty power can of these stones, on 
 which we tread, raise up children to Abraham. 
 But show me your warrant from the word of God 
 for expecting it, either in the one case, or in the 
 other. You will possibly answer, " He has pro- 
 mised to be ever with his church, and that the gates 
 of hell shall not prevail against it ; but that one 
 generation shall arise and declare his mighty works 
 unto another, and that the kingdom of his Son 
 shall continue as long as the sun and the moon 
 endure." Blessed be his name for these encou- 
 raging promises, which shall, no doubt, be ac- 
 complished. But where has he engaged, that this 
 kingdom shall always continue amongst us ? Such 
 passages as these will no more prove, that the 
 gospel shall never be removed from Great Britain, 
 than they would once have proved, that it should 
 never be taken away from Pergamos or Thyatira, 
 or any other of the Asian churches, which have so 
 many ages ago been given up to desolation. 
 
 Now let me entreat you, for a few moments, to 
 dwell upon that thought ; What if the gospel should 
 be lost from amongst your descendants? What if in 
 the age of these little ones, or the next that shall 
 succeed to theirs, the house of the Lord should be 
 forsaken, and his table abandoned? What if the 
 ministry should be grown into disuse, or the ser- 
 vants of Christ in it should have nothing to do, but 
 to bear a fruitless testimony against an unbelieving 
 generation, till (when their hearts arc broken with 
 so sad an office) the gospel here die with them, and 
 religion be buried in their graves? Is it a thought 
 easily to be supported by a true Israelite, that the 
 ark of the Lord should thus be lost, and God 
 should write upon us Ichabod, the sad memorials of 
 a departed glory ? 
 
 It would surely be peculiarly melancholy, that 
 religion should die in the hands of those who were 
 the children of the kingdom. And were not yours 
 so? In this respect, my friends, permit ine to say, 
 that I am witness against some of you. When you 
 have offered your children to baptism, you have 
 delivered them into my hands, with an express 
 declaration of your sincere desire, that they might 
 be devoted to God ; and have received them again 
 with a solemn charge and promise to bring them up 
 for him, if their lives should be continued. And 
 as for those of you, who do not practise this insti- 
 tution, I doubt not, but many of you are equally 
 faithful in dedicating your infant ofl'spring to God. 
 Is it not then reasonable to expect from both, that 
 they should be brought up as a seed to serve him ? 
 And from whom may we hope it, if not from you ? 
 
 If you have experienced the power of divine grace 
 upon your own souls, and have tasted that the Lord 
 is gracious, methinks it should awaken a holy zeal 
 to spread the sweet savour of his name and word 
 wherever you come. You should labour to the 
 utmost for the advancement of his gospel amongst 
 all your acquaintance, and even amongst strangers ; 
 how much more in your own families, amongst 
 those whom you have received from him, amongst 
 those whom you have so solemnly given back to 
 him. 
 
 2. The character of your children, and conse- 
 quently your care in their education, is of the most 
 evident importance to their present and future 
 happiness. 
 
 I need not surely employ a great deal of time in 
 proving the truth of the assertion. As Christians, 
 you must undoubtedly own, that godliness is pro- 
 fitable to all things, having the promise of the life 
 which now is, as well as of that which is to come. 
 If your children, through the divine blessing on 
 your holy care, become truly religious, they will not 
 only be preserved from those follies and crimes, 
 which stain the honour and ruin the substance of 
 families, but they will secure a fair reputation ; they 
 will take the most probable method to make life 
 truly comfortable ; they will be entitled to the pater- 
 nal care and blessings of God ; and, to crown all, m ill 
 be heirs of eternal glory with him: and what could 
 your most prudent, faithful, tender love wish for 
 them as a greater, or indeed as a comparable, good? 
 On the other hand, if they prove vicious and pro- 
 fane, (which in so dangerous an age it is very 
 probable they may, if they have no religious prin- 
 ciple to secure them,) what can you expect but their 
 infamy and misery in this world, and their eternal 
 destruction in the next? 
 
 One would imagine, that such considerations as 
 these should very deeply impress the heart of a 
 parent; and if they were alone, should be sufficient 
 to gain the cause. You, who have so tender a 
 regard to all their temporal concerns ; you, that rise 
 early and sit up late, that you may advance their 
 fortunes, that you may furnish them with those 
 dubious and uncertain possessions, which may be 
 blessings or curses, as they are improved or abused ; 
 can you bear to think, that they may be for ever 
 poor and miserable ? Surely it should cut you to the 
 heart to look on a child and reflect, " Here is an 
 heir of eternal misery. Alas ! what am I doing 
 for him? Preparing an estate? Contriving for his 
 present convenience or grandeur?" Vain, wretched, 
 preposterous care ! which, to use a very plain 
 simile, is but like employing yourselves in trimming 
 and adorning its clothes, while the child itself were 
 fallen into the fire, and would be in danger of being 
 destroyed, if not immediately plucked out. Hasten 
 to do it with an earnestness answerable to the ex- 
 
660 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 tremity of tlic case, and so much the rather, as the 
 danger is in part owinp; to you. 
 
 I will not now say, liow far your personal 
 mistakes in conduct may have been a snare and a 
 temptation to your children ; nor can I pretend to 
 determine it. liut I am conlident of this, tliat they 
 have tlerived from you a eorrujjt and de!;enerate 
 nature. Through your veins the original infection, 
 which tainted the lirst autiiors of our race, has 
 flow ed (low n to them. And is not this an all'eeting 
 thought .' and ougiit it not to (juicken you to attempt 
 their relief? 
 
 Dr. Tillotson sets this in a very moving light: 
 " *When a man has by treason tainted his blood 
 and forfeited his estate, with what grief and regret 
 does he look on his children, and tliink of the injury 
 lie has done to them by his fault; and how solicitous 
 is he before he die to petition the king for favour to 
 his children! How earnestly does he charge his 
 friends to be careful of them, and kind to tliem !" 
 We are those traitors. Our children have derived 
 from us a tainted blood, a forfeited inheritance. 
 How tenderly should we pity them ! How solicit- 
 ously should we exert ourselves to prevent their 
 ruin! Mr. Flavel expresses the thought still more 
 pathetically. " f Should I bring the plague into niy 
 family, and live to sec all my poor children lie 
 dying by the walls of my liouse ; if I had not the 
 heart of a tiger, such a sight would melt my very 
 soul." And surely, I may add, were there a sove- 
 reign antidote at hand, perhaps an antidote I had 
 myself used, should I not direct them to it, and 
 urge them to try it, I should be still more savage 
 and criminal. The application is easy : the Lord 
 deeply impress it on your souls, that your dear 
 children may not die eternally of the malignant 
 plague they have taken from you ! 
 
 This is one consideration, which should certainly 
 add a great deal of weight to tlie argument I am 
 now upon. I will conclude the licad with the men- 
 tion of another : I mean, the peculiar advantages 
 which you, their parents, have for addressing your- 
 selves to them. You, who have known them from 
 their infancy, are best acquainted with their temper, 
 and manner of thinking ; you, who are daily with 
 tliem, may watch tlicir most tender moments, the 
 most favourable opportunities of pleading with 
 them ; your melting affection for them, will suggest 
 the most endearing sentiments and words on such 
 occasions > their obligations to you, and love for 
 you, will probably dispose them to attend with the 
 greatest pleasure to what you say ; or your autho- 
 rity over them, your power of correction, and a 
 sense of their dependence upon you in life, may 
 prevent much of that o[)position and contempt, 
 which from perverse tempers, others might expect ; 
 
 ♦ Tillotson, vol. i. sermon liii. pag. 5-M. 
 + Flavel's Huslj. spir. pag. 260. 
 
 especially if they were not supported by your con- 
 currence, in tlieir attempts to instruct and reform 
 your children. 
 
 On the whole then, since your obligations and 
 your encouragements to attempt the work are so 
 peculiar, I may reasonably hope you will allow its 
 due weight to this second consideration, that the 
 character and conduct of your children, and conse- 
 quently your care in tlieir education, is of tiie high- 
 est iniiK)rtanec to their present and future happi- 
 ness. I add, once more, 
 
 3. It is of great moment to your own comfort, 
 both in life and death. 
 
 Solomon often repeats the substance of that 
 remark ; A wise son maketh a glad father, but a 
 foolish son is a heaviness to his mother. And the 
 justice of it in both its branches is very apparent. 
 Let me engage you seriously to reflect upon it, as a 
 most aw akening inducement to the discharge of the 
 important duty I am recommending. 
 
 If you have reason to hope, that your labours arc 
 not in vain, but that your children are become 
 truly religious ; it must greatly increase your satis- 
 faction in them, that they are dear to you, not only 
 in the bands of the flesh, but in those of the Lord. 
 You will not only be secure of their dutiful and 
 grateful behaviour to you, but will have the plea- 
 sure of seeing them grow up in their different sta- 
 tions, to prospects of usefulness in the church, and 
 in the world. Should Providence spare you to the 
 advance of age, they will be a comfort and honour 
 to your declining years. You will, as it were, 
 enjoy a second youth in their vigour and useful- 
 ness ; nay, a sense of their piety and goodness will 
 undoubtedly be a reviving cordial to you in your 
 dying moments. A delightful thought will it indeed 
 be ! "I am going to take my leave of the world, 
 and my scene of service is over ; but I leave those 
 behind me, who will appear for God in my stead, 
 and act, perhaps, with greater fidelity and zeal, for 
 the support of religion in a degenerate age. I leave 
 my poor children, destitute indeed of my counsel 
 and help, perhaps in no abundant affluence of 
 worldly enjoyments; but I leave them under the 
 guardian care of my Father and their Father, of my 
 God and their God. I must soon be separated 
 from them, and the distance between us must soon 
 be as great, as between earth and heaven : but as 
 I leave them under the best guidance in the wilder- 
 ness, so I have a joyful persuasion they will soon 
 follow me into the celestial Canaan. Yet a little 
 w hile, and I and my dear offspring shall appear be- 
 fore the tlirone of God ; and I shall stand forth w ith 
 transport, and .say, Uehold, here am I, and the chil- 
 dren which my God has graciously given me, 
 Then will the blessedness on which I now enter, be 
 multiplied upon me, by the sight of every child that 
 has a share in it. Now, Lord, sull'erest thou thy 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 501 
 
 servant to depart in peace, since thou hast directed 
 not only mine eyes, but theirs, to thy salvation." 
 
 But if you see these dear little ones grow up for 
 the destroyer, if you see those, whose infant days 
 gave you so many tender pleasures, and so many 
 fond hopes, deviating from the paths of duty and 
 happiness, how deeply will it pierce you ! You now 
 look upon them with a soft complacency, aud say, 
 " These are they, that shall comfort us under our 
 labours and sorrows." But alas! my friends, if this 
 be the case, " These are they, that will increase your 
 labours, and aggravate your sorrows ; that will 
 hasten upon you the infirmities of age, or crush you 
 the faster under the weight of them, till they have 
 brought down your hoary hairs with anguish to the 
 grave." Little do they or you think, how much 
 agony and distress you may endure, from what you 
 will see and what you will fear concerning them. 
 How many slighted admonitions, how many deluded 
 hopes, how many anxious days, how many restless 
 nights, will concur to make the evening of life 
 gloomy ! And at length, when God gives you a 
 dismission from a world, which the folly and wicked- 
 ness of your children has so long inibittered, how 
 painful will the separation be ; when you have a 
 prospect of seeing them but once more, and that at 
 the tribunal of God, where the best you can expect, 
 (in their present circumstances,) is to rise up in 
 judgment against them, and to bear an awful testi- 
 mony, which shall draw down upon them aggravated 
 damnation ! 
 
 And let me plainly tell you, that if in these last 
 moments, conscience should also accuse you of the 
 neglect of duty, and testify that your own sorrow, 
 and your children's ruin, is in part chargeable upon 
 that, it will be a dreadful ingredient in this bitter 
 cup, and will greatly darken, if not entirely sup- 
 press, those hopes with regard to yourselves, which 
 alone could support you in this mournful scene. I 
 am fully persuaded, tliat if you knew the weight 
 with which these things will sit upon your mind in 
 the immediate views of the eternal world, you would 
 not sufl'er every trifling dilliculfy, or little care, to 
 deter you from the discharge of those duties, which 
 are so necessary to prevent these galling reflec- 
 tions. 
 
 To conclude : Let me entreat you seriously to weigh 
 the united force of these arguments, which I have 
 now been urging to excite your diligence in this 
 momentous care of training up your children in the 
 way in which they should go. Consider how plea- 
 I sant the attempt is. Consider how fair a proba- 
 bility there is that it may prosper, as it is in itself 
 a very rational method, as it is a method tJod has 
 appointed, and a method which he has crowned 
 with singular success. Consider how important 
 that success is, to the Iionourof God and interest of 
 religion, to the temporal and eternal happiness of 
 2 o 
 
 your children, and finally, to your own comfort both 
 in life and death. 
 
 On the whole I well know, and I am persuaded. 
 Sirs, that you yourselves are convinced, that what- 
 soever can be opposed to such considerations as 
 these, when laid in an impartial balance, it is alto- 
 gether lighter than vanity. I do therefore seriously 
 appeal to those convictions of your consciences, as 
 in the sight of God : and if, from this time at least, 
 the education of children amongst you be neglected, 
 or regarded only as a light care, God is witness, and 
 you yourselves are witnesses, that it is not for want 
 of being plainly instructed in your duty, or seriously 
 urged to the performance of it, 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 Proverbs xxii. 6. 
 
 Train up a child in the way he should go, and when 
 he is old, he will not depart from it. 
 
 Those of you who have made any observations on 
 human life, must certainly know, that if we desire 
 to be agreeable and useful in it, we must regard 
 not only the quality, but the manner, of our actions ; 
 and that while we are in the pursuit of any impor- 
 tant end, we must not only attend to those actions 
 which do immediately refer to it, but must watch 
 over the whole of our conduct, that we may preserve 
 a consistency in the several parts of it. Otherwise 
 we shall spoil the beauty and acceptance of many 
 an honest, and perhaps, in the main, prudent, at- 
 tempt ; or, by a train of U!it]iought-of consequences, 
 shall demolish with the one hand what we are 
 labouring to build up with the other. 
 
 This is a remark which we shall have frequent 
 occasion to recollect ; and it is of peculiar impor- 
 tance in the business of education. It is therefore 
 necessary, that having before described the way in 
 which children arc to be trained up, and urged you 
 to a diligent application to the duty, I now proceed, 
 
 Tliirdly, to offer some advices for your assistance 
 in this attempt, of leading children into, and con- 
 ducting them in, this way. 
 
 These will relate — partly to the manner in which 
 the attempt is to be made, — and partly to the pre- 
 cautions necessary for rendering itefl'ectua! : which 
 arc, as you see, matters of distinct consideration, 
 though comprehended under the general head of 
 directions. 
 
 I. As to the manner in which the attempt is to 
 be made. 
 
 And here it is evident it should be done plainly, — 
 seriously, — tenderly, — and patiently. 
 
 ii 
 
.06*2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 1. CliiUlion arc (o be iiislructcd plainly : in llic 
 l)Iaint\st tilings, ami by the plainest words. 
 
 They are to be taught the plaine.st things in re- 
 ligion in the lirst place. And it is a pleasing re- 
 flection on this occasion, that according to the 
 abundant goodness and condescension of the great 
 God, those things which arc the most necessary are 
 the plainest. Just as in the w orld of nature, those 
 kinds of food which are the most wholesome and 
 nourishing are also the most common. We should 
 show our grateful sense of the divine goodness ii: 
 this particular by our eare to imitate it; and should 
 sec to it, that when the necessities of our children 
 require bread, we do not give them a stone, or chad" ; 
 as we should do, if we were to distract their feeble 
 minds with a variety of human schemes and doubt- 
 ful disputations. The more abstruse and myste- 
 rious truths of the gospel are gradually to be 
 unfolded, as tliey are exhibited in the oraeles of 
 God, and to be taught in the language of the 
 Spirit ; according to the excellent advice of the 
 great Dr. Owen,* " making Scripture phraseology 
 our rule and pattern in the declaration of spiritual 
 things." But we must not begin here. We must 
 feed them with milk while they are babes, and re- 
 serve the strong meat for a maturer age. Take the 
 most obvious and vital truths of Christianity. Tell 
 them that they are creatures, and sinful creatures ; 
 that by sin they have displeased a holy God ; and 
 that they must be pardoned, and sanctified, and ac- 
 cepted in Christ, or must perish for ever. Show 
 them the difTerence between sin and holiness, be- 
 tween a state of nature and of grace. Show them 
 that they are hastening on to death and judgment, 
 and so must enter on heaven or hell, and dwell for 
 ever in the one or the other. Such kind of lessons 
 will probably turn to the best account, both to them 
 and you. I know it is a very easy thing to inflame 
 the warm ignorant minds of children with an eager 
 zeal for distinguishing forms, or distinguishing 
 phrases, and to niake them violent in the interest of 
 a party, before they know any thing of common 
 Christianity. But if we thus sow the wind, we 
 shall probably reap the whirlwind ; venting our- 
 selves, and transfusing into them, a wrath of man, 
 which never works, but often greatly obstructs, the 
 righteousness of God. Blessed be God, this is not 
 the fault of you, my friends of this congregation. 
 I would mention it with great thankfulness, as both 
 your happiness and mine, that, so far as I can judge, 
 it is the sincere milk of the word that you desire. 
 Let it be your care to draw it out for the nourish- 
 ment of your children's souls, as their understand- 
 ings and capacities will permit them to take it in. 
 
 And while you are teaching them the plainest 
 things, endeavour to do it in the plainest words. It 
 is the gracious method which God uses with lu;, 
 
 » Owen on the Spirit, pref. ad fin. 
 
 who speaks to us of heavenly things in language, 
 not fully expressive of the sublimity and grandeur 
 of the subject, but rather suited to our feeble appre- 
 hensions. Thus our Lord taught his disciples, as 
 they were able to bear it ; and used easy and familiar 
 similitudes, taken from the most obvious oceurienees 
 in life, to illusfrate matters of the highest import- 
 ance. A most instructive example ! Such con- 
 descension should we tise, in training up those 
 committed to our eare, and should examine, whether 
 wc take their understandings along w itii us as we 
 go on : otherwise we are speaking in an unknown 
 tongue, and, as the apostle expresses it, are barba- 
 rians unto them, be our language ever so graceful, 
 elegant, or patlietic* 
 
 Give me leave to add, for the conclusion of this 
 head, that though it is to be taken for granted, that 
 children in their earliest infancy are to be engaged 
 to what is good, and to be restrained from evil, chiefly, 
 by a view to rewards and punishments, more im- 
 mediate or remote, or by some natural workings of 
 a benevolent affection, which are by all means to be 
 cherished and cultivated ; yet, as they might grow 
 up to greater ripeness of understanding, something 
 further is to be attempted. It must then be our 
 care, to set before them, in the strongest light, the 
 beauties of holiness, and deformities of sin ; and 
 likewise to propose, in the easiest and most familiar 
 way, the evidences of the truth of Christianity, that 
 they may be fortified against those temptations to 
 infidelity, with which the present age does so un- 
 happily abound. The external evidences of it are 
 by no means to be slighted, such as the credibility 
 of the gospel history, the accomplishment of pro- 
 phecies, the unity of design, carried on by so many 
 difl'ercnt persons in distant ages and countries, its 
 amazing and even miraculous propagation in the 
 world ; all which, with many other considerations 
 to the same purpose, are very judiciously handled 
 in a variety of excellent writings of our own age; 
 of which I know not any more suited to your use, 
 than Mr. Bennet's Discourses on the Inspiration of 
 Scripture, which I therefore recommend to your 
 attentive perusal ; and with them Dr. Watts's Ser- 
 mons on the Inward Witness to the Truth of Chris- 
 tianity, from its efficacious tendency to promote 
 holiness. This appears to me the noblest evidence 
 of all, and will, to those who have actually expe- 
 rienced it, be an anchor of the soul both sure and 
 stedfast. 
 
 2. Children should be instructed in a very serious 
 manner. 
 
 There is an uidiappy pronencss in our degenerate 
 nature to trifle with the things of God ; and the 
 giddiness of children is peculiarly subject to it. 
 Great care sliould therefore be taken, that we do not 
 
 * Mercator renders y^yi 'fi, juxt.i nicnsuram via' ejus, i. e. pro 
 caplu iiigenii ejus iiilirniiuris. 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 6C3 
 
 encourage such a humour, nor teach them by our 
 levity or indolence in the manner of instruction, 
 to take the awful name of God in vain, while they 
 are speaking of him, or to him. For this purpose 
 we must labour w ith our own hearts, to work them 
 to a deep and serious sense of the truth and import- 
 ance of w hat w e say : this w ill give us an unaffected 
 solemnity in speaking, which will probably com- 
 mand the attention, and impress the hearts, of our 
 children. Endeavour to preserve on your own spirit 
 an habitual awe of the great and blessed God, the 
 Lord of heaven and earth ; that when you speak of 
 him to those little creatures, they may evidently see 
 the indications of the humblest veneration and 
 reverence, and so may learn to fear him from their 
 youth. When you speak of Christ, let your souls 
 be bowing to him as the Son of God, through whom 
 alone you and yours can obtain pardon and life ; 
 and let them be overflowing with love to him, for 
 his unutterable and inconceivable grace. And when 
 you remind them of death, judgment, and eternity, 
 consider yourselves and them as dying creatures: 
 think in how few months, or wrecks, or days, your 
 lips may be silent in the dust, or they may be for 
 ever removed beyond the reach of your instructions ; 
 and plead with them in as earnest and importunate 
 a manner, as if the salvation of their immorlal souls 
 depended on the effect of the present address. 
 Again, 
 
 3. Children should be instructed in a very tender 
 and affectionate manner. 
 
 We should take care to let them see, that we do 
 not desire to terrify and amaze them, to lead thenj 
 into unnecessary severities, or to deprive them of 
 any innocent pleasures ; that what we say is not 
 dictated by an ostentation of our own wisdom and 
 authority ; but that it all proceeds from a hearty 
 love to them, and an earnest desire of their happi- 
 ness. Study therefore to address Ihem in the most 
 endearing language, as well as witli the softest and 
 sweetest arguments. Endeavour, according to tlie 
 practice of Solomon, to find out acceptable w ords. 
 And if tears should rise while you are speaking, 
 do not suppress them. There is a language in 
 them, which may perhaps affect beyond words. A 
 weeping parent is both an awful and a melting 
 sight. 
 
 Endeavour therefore to look upon your children 
 in such a view, as may be most likely to awaken 
 these tender sentiments. Consider them as crea- 
 tures, whom you (as instruments) have brought into 
 j being, tainted with innate corruption, surrounded 
 I with snares, and, on the whole, in such apparent 
 danger, that if not snatched as brands out of the 
 burning, they must perish for ever. And that your 
 hearts may be further mollified, and you may be 
 fo rmed to the most gentle and moving manner of 
 address, let me entreat you to study the Scripture 
 2 o 2 
 
 in this view, and to observe the condescending and 
 endearing forms in which the blessed God speaks 
 to us there. Observe them for yourselves, and 
 point them out to your children. Tell them, how 
 kindly he has demanded, how graciously he has en- 
 couraged, their services ; while he says. Remember 
 now thy Creator in the days of thy youth ; and 
 elsewhere, I love them that love me, and those that 
 seek me early shall find me. Tell them, that the 
 Lord Jesus Christ hath invited them to come to 
 him; for he hath said. Come unto me all ye that 
 labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
 rest : Him that comes unto me, I will in no wise 
 cast out : And whosoever will, let him take of the 
 water of life freely. Such scriptures as these 
 should be often repeated to them, and should be 
 early inculcated on their memory, w itli an attempt, 
 as far as possible, to let them into the spirit and 
 force of them. 
 
 Nor will it be improper sometimes to set before 
 them how much you have done, how much you are 
 ready to do, for them ; how many anxious thoughts 
 you entertain, how many fervent prayers you ofler, 
 on their account. Thus Lemuel's mother addressed 
 him, AA hat, my son? and what, the son of my 
 womb f and what, the son of my vows ? As if she 
 had said, " My dear child, for whom I have borne 
 so much, for whom I have prayed so earnestly ; in 
 v\ hat words shall I address thee, to express what 
 my heart feels on thy account ? How shall I speak 
 my afl'cclionate overflowing concern for thy hajjpi- 
 ncss both in time and eternity ?" So Solomon 
 pleads. My son, if thine heart be wise, my heart 
 shall rejoice, even mine : as if he should have 
 said, "Think how much is comprehended in that 
 argument, that a parent's happiness is in a great 
 measure to be determined by thy character and 
 conduct." And the apostle Paul lays open hia 
 heart to the Galatians in those patlietical words, 
 My little children, of whom I travail in birth again, 
 till Christ be formed in you. Yet llicse wcic, com- 
 |)aratively, strangers to him. And should not you, 
 my friends, feel, should not you express, an equal 
 tenderness for those, who are so nearly allied to 
 yoa in the bonds of nature, for those who are indeed 
 parts of yourselves ? But further, 
 
 4. Children should also be instructed patiently. 
 
 You know, w hen the husbandman has committed 
 the seed to the ground, he patiently expects the 
 fruit of his labours. So must ministers do, when 
 instructing their people : so must parents do, w hen 
 instructing their children. You must not imagine, 
 my friends, that a plentiful harvest will spring up 
 in a day. The growth of nature is slow, and by 
 insensible degrees : nor are you to wonder, if ad- 
 vances in knowledge and grace be still slower. Be 
 upon your guard therefore against fretfulness and 
 impatience. Youx children will forget what you 
 
564 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Iiavo onrc taught tliom ; repeat it a second time ; 
 and if thov tbiftct it tlie second time, repeat it the 
 third. It is thus that the great God deals with you ; 
 and you have daily reason to rejoice that lie does. 
 He knows the frailty and weakness of your minds, 
 and therefore acts by a rule, which seems to be laid 
 down with peculiar regard to the very point I am 
 urging. Whom shall he teach knowledge, and 
 whom shall he make to understand doctrine ? them 
 that are v. eaned from the milk, and drawn from the 
 breasts. For precept must be upon precept, pre- 
 cept upon precept ; and line upon line, line upon 
 line ; here a little, and there a little. As if the 
 prophet should have said, " God has treated you like 
 little children, who must have the same short easy 
 lesson repeated again and again." And is it not 
 indeed thus with regard to you? Docs not the 
 patience and condescension of your heavenly Father 
 send to you his ministers Scibbath after sabbath, 
 frequently inculcating the same things, tliat what 
 you have forgot may be brought to mind again ? 
 Thus should you do by those committed to your 
 care. 
 
 Be teaching them every sabbath : that is remark- 
 ably a good day for the purpose. Then you have 
 leisure for it ; then you have peculiar advantage to 
 pursue the work ; then you arc furnished with some 
 new matter by what you have heard in public ; and 
 I would hope, your spirits are then quickened by it ; 
 so that you can sjjeak out of the abundance of the 
 heart : and you may, by discoursing with them on 
 what has been addressed to you, revive the impres- 
 sion on your own souls. 
 
 I add : Be teacliing them every day, by occasional 
 discourses, when you have not an opportunity of 
 doing it by stated addresses. Drop a word for God 
 every day, and often in a day. You will probably 
 hnd your account in it, and your children theirs. 
 A sudden glance of thought towards God in tlie 
 midst of the world is often a great refreshment to 
 the Christian ; and a sudden turn to something 
 serious and spiritual in conversation, is frequently 
 very edifying to others. It strikes the memory and 
 the heart, and is, perhaps, as a nail fixed in a sure 
 place, when many a solemn admonition, and many 
 an elaborate sermon, is lost. It is with pleasure 
 that I frequently hear good Christians speaking of 
 such occasional hints, which have been dropped by 
 saints of the former generation. Those transient 
 passages, which the pious parents might forget in a 
 few moments, their children have distinctly remem- 
 bered for manj- future years, and repeated for their 
 own edification, and I might add, for mine. Let lids 
 therefore be an encouragement to you ; and in this 
 respect, in the morning sow this precious seed, and 
 in the evening withhold not your hand, since yoa 
 know not whether shall prcsper, or whctlier both 
 shall be alike good. 
 
 Once more, let me entreat you to repeat your pious 
 instructions and admonitions, even though your 
 children should grow up to years of maturity with- 
 out appearing to profit by them. Say not, that you 
 can teach them no more than they already know ; 
 or, that you can try no new methods which you 
 have not already attempted. You see that, in our 
 assemblies, God often brings back souls to himself, 
 by setting home on the conscience truths which, 
 with regard to the speculative part of them, they 
 know as well as their teachers ; and adds a divine 
 cfiicacy to those institutions, which, for a long suc- 
 cession of years, they had attended in vain. Be not 
 therefore weary in well-doing ; but let patience in 
 this instance have its perfect work. 
 
 Thus let your children be instructed plainly, 
 seriously, tenderly, and patiently. I wave some 
 other particulars, which I might have added to 
 these, concerning the manner of instructing them, 
 because I apprehend they will more properly fall 
 under the second branch of these directions, where 
 I am further to advise you, 
 
 II. As to the precautions you must use, if you 
 desire that these attempts in the religious education 
 of your children may be attended with success. 
 
 Here I would particularly advise,— that a prudent 
 care be taken to keep up your authority over them, 
 — and at the same time to engage their ailections to 
 you ; — that you be solicitous to keep them out of 
 the way of temptation ; — that you confirm your 
 admonitions by a suitable example ;— that you 
 cheerfully accept of proper assistances in this im- 
 portant attempt ; — and that you humbly and con- 
 stantly look up to God for his blessing on all. 
 
 1. If we desire to succeed in our attempts for the 
 religious education of our children, we must take 
 care to keep up our authority over them. 
 
 To this purpose, we must avoid, not only what is 
 grossly vicious and criminal, (which will be more 
 properly mentioned under a following head,) but 
 al-so those little levities and follies which might 
 make us appear contemptible to them. Whatever 
 liberties we may take with those who are our equals 
 in age and station, a more exact decorum is to be 
 preserved before our children. Thus we are to 
 reverence them, if we desire they should reverence 
 us;* for, as Dr. Tillotson very jtistly observes, 
 " There is a certain freedom of conversation, which 
 is only proper amongst equals in age and quality, 
 which if we use before our superiors we seem to 
 despise them, and if we do it before our inferiors, 
 we teach them to despise us."t 
 
 I will not insist on this hint, which your own 
 prudence must accommodate to particular circum- 
 stances ; but shall here introduce the mention of 
 correction, which, in some cases, may be absolutely 
 
 « Maxima debctur puero reverentia.— /awfn. Sat. xiv. v. 47. 
 + Tillotson's Scrm. vol. i. p. 54], 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 565 
 
 necessary to the support of parental authority, 
 especially where admonitions and eounsels are 
 slighted. 
 
 You know, that the Scriptures expressly require 
 it on proper occasions ; and Solomon, in particu- 
 lar, enlarges on the head, and suggests some import- 
 ant thoughts with regard to it. Foolishness (says 
 he) is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod 
 of correction shall drive it far from him. Nay, he 
 speaks of it as a matter in which life is concerned, 
 even the life of the soul : Withhold not correction 
 from a child ; for if thou beat him with the rod lie 
 shall not die : Thou shalt beat him with the rod, 
 and shaif deliver his soul from hell. And is it 
 kindness, or cruelty, in a parent, to spare the flesh 
 to the hazard of the soul ? Parents are therefore 
 exhorted to an early care in this respect, lest vicious 
 habits growing inveterate should render the attempt 
 vain or hurtful ; and they are cautioned against 
 that foolish tenderness, which would lead them to 
 regard the tears of a child, rather than his truest 
 and highest interest. Correct thy son while there 
 is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying : 
 He that spareth the rod, hateth his son ; but he that 
 loveth him, chastenetli him betimes. Nor can we 
 imagine a more lively commentary on the words 
 than the melancholy story of Eli, who, though he 
 was a very eminent saint in a degenerate age, yet 
 erred here, and by a fatal indulgence, brought ruin, 
 as well as infamy, on himself and his family. He 
 reproved the abominable wickedness of his sons ; 
 but did not make use of those severe methods, 
 which, in such a case, the authority of a parent 
 might have "warranted, and the office of a judge did 
 undoubtedly require. 01)serve tl'.e sentence wliich 
 God pronounced against him for it, and which he 
 executed upon him in a very awful manner. The 
 Lord said unto Samuel, Behold, I will do a thing 
 in Israel, at which both the ears of every one that 
 heareth it shall tingle. In that day I will perform 
 against Eli all the things m hich I have spoken con- 
 cerning his house ; wlien I begin, I will also make 
 an end. For I have told him, that I will judge his 
 house for ever, for the iniquity which he knoweth ; 
 because his sons made themselves vile, and he 
 restrained them not. And therefore I have sworn 
 unto the house of Eli, that the ini(|uity of Eli's 
 house shall not be purged with sacrifice nor olTering 
 for ever. Take heed, I entreat you, as you love 
 your children, as you love yourselves, that it may 
 not be said of you, that yours have made themselves 
 vile, and you have neglected to restrain them. Let 
 mothers, in particular, take heed, lliat they do not, 
 as it were, smother their children in their embraces ; 
 as a French author smartly expresses it.* And let 
 me remind you all to be particularly cautious, that 
 the arms of one parent be not a refuge to the chil- 
 
 • Siiperville, Serni. vol. iii. p. 374. 
 
 dren from the resentment of the other. Both should 
 appear to act in concert, or the authority of the one 
 will be despised, and probably the indulgence of 
 the other abused, and the mutual affection of both 
 endangered. 
 
 I cannot say that I enlarge on this subject with 
 pleasure ; but how could I have answer-. I -?r the 
 om'ssion of what is so copiously and so pathetical- 
 ly inculcated in tlie sacred writings .' It is indeed 
 probable, that the rugged and servile temper of the 
 generality of the Jewish nation, might render a 
 severe discipline peculiarly necessary for their 
 children ; yet I fear there are few of our fam.ilics 
 where every thing of this kind can safely be 
 neglected. But, after all, I would by no means 
 drive matters to extremities ; and therefore cannot 
 persuade myself to dismiss the head without a 
 caution or two. Take heed, — that your corrections 
 be not too frequent, — or too severe — and that they 
 be not given in an unbecoming manner. 
 
 If your corrections be too frequent, it will proba- 
 bly spoil much of the success. Your children, like 
 iron, will harden under repeated strokes ; and that 
 ingenuous shame w ill be gradually worn off, which 
 adds the greatest sting to what they suffer from a 
 jjarent's hand. And there will be this further in- 
 convenience attending it, that there will not be a 
 due difference made between great and small 
 faults. The laws of Draco the Athenian were justly 
 rejected, because they punished all crimes alike, 
 and made the stealing of an apple capital, as well 
 as the murder of a citizen. You, on the contrary, 
 should let your children see, that you know how to 
 distinguish between indiscretion and wickedness ; 
 and should yourselves appear most displeased, when 
 you think God is so. 
 
 Nor should your corrections at any time be too 
 severe. It is very prettily said by Dr. Tillotson on 
 this occasion, " that whips are not the cords of a 
 man." They should be used in a family, only 
 (as the sword in the republic) as the last remedy, 
 when all others have been tried in vain ; and then 
 should be so used, as that we may appear to imitate 
 the compassion of our heavenly Father, who doth 
 not afllict willingly, nor grieve the children of men. 
 
 Which leads mc to add, that we should be greatly 
 cautious, that correction be not inllicted in an un- 
 becoming manner: and it always is so, when it is 
 given in a passion. A parent's correcting his child 
 should be regarded as an act of domestic justice, 
 which therefore should be ndmiiiistercd with a due 
 solemnity and decorum; and to behave otherwise 
 on the occasion, is almost as great an indecency, as 
 for a judge to pass sentence in a rage. It is in- 
 jurious to ourselves, as it tends to spoil our own 
 temper; for peevishness and passion will grow 
 upon us, by being indulged towards those who dare 
 not oppose them. And it is on many accounts in- 
 
566 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 jiiiious to our cliildicn. Solomon infimafes, that 
 correction and instruction slioiild l)c joined, wlien 
 he says. The rod and reproof give wisdom. But 
 what room is there for the still voice of wisdom to 
 be heard in a storm of fury ? If your children see 
 that you act calmly and mildly; if they read pa- 
 rcnli.t iSC'Jiderness in your heart, through an awful 
 frown on your brow ; if they perceive that correc- 
 tion is your strange work, a violence which you 
 ofTtr to yourselves from a principle of duty to God 
 and afl'ection to tliem ; they must be obdurate in- 
 deed, if they do not receive it with reverence and 
 love ; for this is both a venerable and an amiable 
 character. But if once they imagine that you chas- 
 tise them merely to vent your passion, and gratify 
 your resentments, they will secretly despise, and 
 perhaps hate, you for it. In that instance at least, 
 they v>ill look upon yon as their enemies, and may, 
 by a continued course of such severities, contract 
 an aversion, not only to you, but to all that you 
 recommend to them. Thus yon may lose your 
 authority and your influence, by the very method 
 jou take to support it, and niay turn a wholesome 
 though bitter medicine into poison. But I hope 
 and trust that your humanity and your prudence 
 will concur to i)revent so fatal an abuse. 
 
 2. If you desire success in your attempts for the 
 education of your cliildren, you must be careful to 
 secure their affeclion to you. 
 
 Our Lord observes, that if any man love him, he 
 will keep his word ; and the assertion is applicable 
 to the present case : the more your children love 
 j'ou, the more will they regard your instructions 
 and admonitions. God has indeed made it their 
 duty to love you, and the most indispensable laws 
 of gratitude rc(;uire it ; yet since so many cliildren 
 arc evidently wanting in lilial affection, it is certain 
 that all this may not secure it in yours, unless you 
 add a tender obliging behaviour to all the other 
 benefits you have conferred upon them. I observed, 
 under a former head, that you should address them 
 in an affectionate manner when discoursing on re- 
 ligious su])jects ; but now I add, that you should 
 carry the temper through life, and be daily endea- 
 vouring to render yourselves amiable to them. The 
 apostle cautions i)arents, that they sliould not ])ro- 
 voke their children to wrath, if they would bring 
 them up in the nurture and admonition of the 
 Lord. On the contrary, you should put on the 
 kindest looks ; you should use the most endearing 
 and condescending language ; you should overlook 
 many little failings, and express a high compla- 
 cency in what is really regular and laudable in 
 their behaviour. And though you must sometimes 
 overrule their desires, when impatiently eager, yet 
 far from delighting generally to cross them, you 
 should rather study their inclinations, that you may 
 surprise them with unexpected favours. Thus will 
 
 they learn quietly to refer themselves to your care, 
 and will more easily submit to mortification ami 
 denial, when it is not made necessary by clamorous 
 and impetuous demands. On the whole, you should 
 endeavour to behave so, as that your children may 
 love your company, and of choice be nuich in it; 
 which will preserve them from innumerable snares, 
 and may furnish you with many opportunities of 
 forming their temper and behaviour, by impercep- 
 tible degrees, to w hat may be decent, amiable, and 
 excellent.* 
 
 If you manage these things with prudence, you 
 need not fear that such condescensions, as I have 
 now recommended, will impair your authority : far 
 from that, they will rather establish it. The su- 
 periority of your parental character may be main- 
 tained in the midst of these indulgences ; and when 
 it is thus attempered, it is most like to produce that 
 mixture of reverence and love, by which the obe- 
 dience of a child is to be distinguished from that of 
 a slave. 
 
 3. You must be solicitous to keep your children 
 out of the way of temptation, if you would see the 
 success of your care in their education. 
 
 If 3'ou are not on your guard here, you will pro- 
 bably throw down what you have built, and build 
 up that which you have been endeavouring to de- 
 stroy. An early care must be taken, to keep them 
 from the occasions, and the very appearances, of evil. 
 We should not venture their infant steps on the 
 brink of a precipice, on w hich grown persons, who 
 know how to adjust the poise of their bodies, may 
 walk without extreme danger. More hazardous 
 might it be, to allow them to trifle with temptations, 
 and boldly venture to the utmost limits of that which 
 is lawful. An early tenderness of conscience may 
 be a great preservative ; and the excess of strict- 
 ness, (though no excess be desirable,) may prove 
 much safer than an excess of liberty. 
 
 Bad company is undoubtedly one of the most 
 formidable and pernicious entanglements. By 
 forming friendships with persons of a vicious cha- 
 racter, many a hopeful youth has learnt their ways, 
 and found a fatal snare to his soul. You should 
 be very watchful to prevent their contracting such 
 dangerous friendships ; and where you discover 
 any thing of that kind, should endeavour, by all 
 gentle and endearing methods, to draw them off 
 from them ; but if they still persist, you must re- 
 solve to cut the knot you cannot untie, and let your 
 children know, that they must either renounce their 
 associates or their parents. One resolute step of 
 this kind might have prevenled the ruin of multi- 
 tudes, who have fallen a sacrifice to the importuni- 
 ties of wicked companions, and the weak indul- 
 gence of imprudent parents, who have contented 
 
 * In parentibus vero quam pluriraum esse educationis optaverira. 
 Quiniil. lib! supra. 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 567 
 
 themselves with blaming what they ought strenu- 
 ously to have reclicssecl. 
 
 All bad company is, in this respect, formidable; 
 but that is most evidently so, which is to be found at 
 home. Great care ought therefore to be taken, 
 that you admit none into your families, who may 
 debauch the tender minds of your children by per- 
 nicious opinions, or by vicious practices.* This 
 is a caution which should be particularly remem- 
 bered in the case of servants. Take heed you do 
 not bring into your families such as may diffuse 
 infection through the souls of your dear offspring. 
 It is a thousand times better to put up with some 
 inconveniences and disadvantages, when you have 
 reason to believe a servant fears God, and will, from 
 a principle of conscience, be faithful in watching 
 over your children, and in seconding your religious 
 care in tlieir education ; than to prefer sucli, as 
 while they are, perhaps, managing your temporal 
 affairs something better, may pervert your children 
 to the service of the devil. I fear, some parents 
 little think how much secret mischief these base 
 creatures are doing. And it is very possible, that 
 if some of you recollect what you may have ob- 
 served amongst the companions of your childhood, 
 you may find instances of this nature, which riper 
 years have not since given you opportunity to dis- 
 cover. Sec to it, therefore, tliat you be diligently 
 on your guard here. 
 
 : Again: If you send your children to places of 
 education, be greatly cautious in yonr choice of 
 them. Dearly will you purchase the greatest ad- 
 vantages for learning, at the expense of those of a 
 religious nature. And I will turn out of my way to 
 add, that schoolmasters and tutors v/ill have a 
 dreadful account to give, if they arc not faitlifiillv 
 and tenderly solicitous for tlie souls of those com- 
 milted to their care. The Lord pardon our many 
 defects here, and quicken us to greater diligence 
 and zeal ! — But to return : 
 
 . Give me leave only to add, that it is of the highest 
 importance, if you would not have all your labour 
 in the education of your children lost, that you 
 .should be greatly cautious with regard to tlieir 
 settlement in the world. Apprenticeships and mar- 
 riages, into irreligious families, have been the known 
 .sources of innumerable evils. They who have 
 exposed the souls of their children to apparent 
 danger, for the sake of some secular advantages, 
 have often lived to see them drawn aside to prac- 
 tices ruinous to their temporal, as well as their 
 eternal, interests. Thus their own iniquity hath 
 remarkably corrected them : and I heartily pray, 
 tliat the God of this world may never be permitted 
 thus to blind your eyes ; but that you, my friends, 
 may learn from the calamities of other families, that 
 
 » Ml dichi foediim, visnquc, Iisclimina tao^al, 
 Intra quae piier e»i.—Juv. Sat. xiv. v. 44, 45. 
 
 wholesome lesson, which, if you neglect it, others 
 may perhaps hereafter learn from the ruin of yours. 
 
 4. See to it, that you confirm your admonitions 
 by a suitable example, if you desire on the whole 
 that they should prove useful to your children. 
 
 A consciousness of the irregularity of your own 
 behaviour, in any remarkable instances which may 
 fall under their observation, will probably abate 
 much of that force and authority with which we 
 might otherwise address them.f When we know 
 they may justly retort upon us, at least in their 
 minds, those words of the apostle, Thou that 
 teachest another, teachest thou not thyself? surely 
 a sense of guilt and of shame must either entirely 
 silence us, or at least impair that freedom and 
 confidence, with which we might otherwise have 
 exhorted or rebuked. 
 
 Or had we so much composure and assurance, as 
 to put on all the fonns of innocence and virtue, 
 could we expect regard, when our actions contra- 
 dicted our discourses, or hope they should reverence 
 instructions, which their teachers themselves appear 
 to despise ? It is in the general true, that there is a 
 silent, but powerful, oratory in example, beyond the 
 force of the most elegant and expressive words ; 
 and the example of parents has often a peculiar 
 wciglit with tlicir children; J: which seems to be 
 alluded to in that exhortation of St. Paul, Be ye 
 followers (or imitators) of God, as dear children. 
 So that on the whole, as a vejy celebrated writer 
 well expresses it,§ " To give children good instruc- 
 tion, and a bad example, is but beckoning to them 
 with the head to show them the way to heaven, 
 while we take fhem by the hand, and lead them in 
 the way to hell." We should therefore niost heartily 
 concur in David's resolution, as ever we hope our 
 families should be religious and happy : I will 
 behave myself wisely in a perfect way ; I will walk, 
 within my house with a perfect heart. 
 
 5. Cheerfully accept of all proper assistances in 
 the education of your children, if you desire it may 
 succeed well. 
 
 It will be your wisdom lo accept of the assist- 
 ance, which may be oflcrcd, cither from books, or 
 friends. 
 
 Books may in this respect be very useful lo you; 
 the book of God above all ; both to furnish you 
 with materials for this great work, and to instruct 
 you in the manner of performing if. Other writ- 
 ings may be subservient to this purpose. Wise 
 and pious treatises on the subject of education may 
 be read with great pleasure and advantage ; and 
 you may receive singular assistance from those 
 catechisms, and prayers, and songs for children, 
 
 + Uiuletibi frontem libertatrrnqtic parentis. 
 
 Cum fji is pejora sciiix ^.—Juv. Sat. xiv. v. 30, 57. 
 
 i Vchiriiis et citiils lios 
 
 Cnrrunipuiit vitioruin t-xempla domcstica, magnis 
 
 Cum subciMit aiiinios aucloiitiis.— 71(11. Sat. xiv. v. ,11—33. 
 
 } Tillolsoii, \o\. i, p. 331. 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 with «!!ich mast of your families are now fiimisli- 
 cd, tliroii^h the coiulcscension of one valuable 
 friend • in writing them, and the generosity of 
 another in bestow ing them upon us. I hope you 
 will express your thankfulness to both, by a dili- 
 gent care to use them : and I persuade myself, that 
 you and yours may abundantly find your account 
 in them ; for uhile the language is so plain and 
 easy, that even an infant may understand it, you 
 ■will often find, not only a propriety, but a strength 
 and sublimity, in the sentiments, which may be 
 improving to persons of advanced capacities. 
 There is mueii of that milk, by which strong men 
 may be entertained and nourished. 
 
 I add, that in this important work, you should 
 gladly embrace the assistance of pious and pru- 
 dent friends. I can by no means approve that 
 Lacedemonian law, which gave every citizen the 
 power of correcting his neighbour's children, and 
 made it infamous for the parent to complain of it : 
 yet we must all allow, that considering the great 
 importance of education, a concern for the happi- 
 ness of families and the public, will require a 
 mutual watchfulness over each other in this respect; 
 nor is there any imaginable reason to exclude this 
 from tlie number of those heads, on which we are to 
 admonish one another ; and to consider each other, 
 to provoke unto good works. 
 
 Nothing seems more evident than this ; and one 
 would suppose, that persons, who are acquainted 
 with human nature, should suspect, that self-love 
 might work under this form, and that they might be 
 a little blinded by a partial affection to their off- 
 spring. Such a reflection might engage them, at 
 least patiently, or rather thankfully, to hear the 
 ."ientiments, and receive the admonitions, of their 
 friends on this head. But instead of this, there is 
 in many people a kind of parental pride, (if I may 
 be allowed the expression,) which seldom fails to 
 exert itself on such an occasion. They are so con- 
 fident in their own way, and do so magisterially 
 despise the opinion of others, that one would almost 
 imagine they took it for granted, that, with every 
 child, nature had given to the parent a certain 
 stock of infallible wisdom for the management of 
 it; or that, if they thought otherwise, they rather 
 chose their children should be ruined by their own 
 conduct, than saved by any foreign advice. If this 
 arrogance only rendered the parents ridiculous, one 
 should not need to be greatly concerned about it ; 
 especially as their high complacency in themselves 
 would make them easy, whatever others might 
 think or say of them : but when we consider the 
 unhappy consequences it may produce, with regard 
 to the temper and conduct of the rising generation, 
 it will appear a very serious evil, well worthy a 
 
 » Dr. Isaac Watts. 
 
 particular me:ition, and a particular care to guard 
 against it. 
 
 As for the assistance of ministers in this work of 
 education, 1 persuade myself you will be so wise 
 as thankfully to embrace it, both in public and 
 private ; and let mc urge you to improve it to the 
 utmost. Accustom your children to an early con- 
 stancy and seriousness in attending divine ordi- 
 nances, and be often yourselves inquiring, and give 
 us leave sometimes to inquire, how tliey advance 
 in acquaintance with religion, and in love to it. 
 And more particularly let them attend on our 
 catechetical lectures, which are peculiarly intended 
 for their service. 
 
 I bless God, I have seen the happy effects of this 
 exercise, both in the places where I was educated 
 whilst a child,! and in those where I was formerly 
 fixed ; and as I am now introducing it amongst you, 
 with an intent to continue it as long as I am capable 
 of public service, I promise myself your most hearty 
 concurrence in it. I will not at large insist on tho 
 advantages which may attend it. You easily see, 
 that it will be an engagement to the children to 
 learn those excellent summaries of divine truth, 
 when their progress in them is so often examined. 
 By repeating it tiiemselves, and hearing it rehearsed 
 by others, it will be more deeply fixed upon their 
 memories. The exposition of it in a plain and 
 familiar manner, may mucli improve their under- 
 standings in the doctrines and duties of religion : 
 and I will add, you that are parents may, by at- 
 tending on these occasions, possibly learn some- 
 thing as to the way of opening and explaining 
 things, which you may successfully practise at 
 home. In consequence of all, we may hope that, 
 by the divine blessing, some good impressions may 
 be made on the minds of children. And when they 
 find a minister willing to take pains to instruct 
 them, when they hear him seriously and tenderly 
 pleading with them, and pleading with God for 
 them, it may much engage their aflections to him, 
 and so promote his usefulness amongst them, iu 
 other ordinances, and in future years. And give 
 me leave to say, upon this head, that as no wise 
 and good minister will think it beneath him to desire 
 the affection of the children of his congregation, so 
 it is the duty of parents to cherish in their offspring 
 sentiments of respect and love to all the faithful 
 ministers of Christ, and especially towards those 
 who statedly labour amongst them. Whatever mis- 
 takes you may discover in our conduct, or whatever 
 deficiencies in our public ministrations, you should 
 study to conceal them from the notice of your chil- 
 
 + KiriRston and St. Alh.ms. On the mention of wbicli,! cannot for. 
 bear returning my pnbtic thanks to iny reverend and wortliy friends, 
 Mr. Mayo and Mr. Clarlt, for tlie many exi ellent nislructions they gave 
 mc bolli in piiblic and private, wlien under their ministerial rare in the 
 years of cliildhood. As I would always retain a grateful and afl'ectionate 
 remembrance of it, I cannot but pray that the like care may be as much 
 the practice, as it is the duty, of their brethren of every denomination. 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 569 
 
 dreu ; lest they should grow up in a contempt of 
 those w hose services might otherwise be highly ad- 
 vantageous to them. 
 
 6. Lastly, Be earnest in prayer to God for his 
 blessing on your attempts in the education of your 
 children, if you desire to see them successful. 
 
 This I would leave with you as my last advice ; 
 and though I have had frequent occasion to hint at 
 it before, I would now more particularly urge it on 
 your attentive regard. God is the author of every 
 good and every perfect gift ; it is he that has formed 
 the mind and the tongue, and that teaches man 
 knowledge and address. On him therefore must 
 you fix your dependence, to teach you so to con- 
 ceive of divine things, and so to express your con- 
 ceptions of them, as may be most suited to the 
 capacities, the dispositions, and the circumstances 
 of your children ; and to him you must look to teach 
 them to profit by all, by his almighty grace to open 
 their ear unto discipline, and to bow their heart 
 unto understanding. 
 
 A heathen poet could teach the Romans, in a 
 form of public and solemn devotion, to look up to 
 heaven for influences from thence, to form their 
 youth to the love and practice of virtue.* Surely 
 you, my friends, are under much greater obligations 
 to do it, and that in a Christian manner ; earnestly 
 entreating the God of grace to send down on your 
 rising offspring the efTusions of that blessed Spirit, 
 which was purchased by the blood of Christ, and is 
 deposited in his compassionate hand. If you have 
 tasted that the Lord is gracious, you are daily living 
 on those supplies ; let it be your constant errand at 
 the throne of grace to plead for your children there. 
 Wrestle with God in secret for the life of their souls, 
 and for those regenerating influences on which it 
 depends ; and in those family devotions, which I 
 hope you dare not neglect, let the little ones, from 
 their earliest infancy, have a share in your remem- 
 brance. You may humbly hope, that He by whose 
 encouragement and command you pray, will not 
 suffer these supplications to be like water spilt upon 
 the ground. And, in the nature of things, it may 
 tend to make serious impressions on tlie minds of 
 your children, to hear their own case mentioned in 
 prayer ; and may dispose them with greater regard 
 to attend on what you say to them, when they find 
 jou so frequently, so solemnly, and so tenderly, 
 pleading with God for them. 
 
 Doubt not that every faithful minister of Christ 
 will most heartily concur with you, in so great and 
 necessary a request. May God return to our united 
 addresses an answer of peace ! May he pour out 
 his Spirit on our seed, and his blessing on our off- 
 .spring, that they may grow up before him as willows 
 by the water-courses ; that they may be to their 
 
 * Df, bonos mores docili juvenlse 
 
 Date. Hor. Car. Sac. ver. V>, 46. 
 
 parents for a comfort, to the church for a support, 
 and to our God for a name and a praise ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 Proverbs xxii. 6. 
 
 Train up a child in the way he should go, and when 
 he is old, he will not depart from it. 
 
 Ix treating on this subject of Education, I have all 
 along endeavoured, according to my usual manner, 
 to make my discourses as practical as I could. 
 While I was describing and recommending the 
 waj', and off"ering my advices with regard to the 
 manner of conducting children into it, most of what 
 I said under those generals was an application to 
 you. I have therefore left myself the less to do 
 here ; yet I was not willing to conclude my dis- 
 courses on a subject, which it is probable I shall 
 never so largely resume, without. 
 
 Fourthly, A particular address to my hearers, 
 according to your different relations and characters 
 in life. 
 
 This I promised as my fourth and last general, 
 and I enter on it without further preface ; humbly 
 begging that God, who has so intimate an access to 
 all our hearts, would enable nie to speak in the 
 most awakening and edifying manner ; and that he 
 would, by his blessed Spirit, apply it to your con- 
 sciences, that it may be as a nail fastened in a sure 
 place ; that hearing and knowing these things for 
 yourselves, you may hear and know them for your 
 good. 
 
 I would here particularly address myself, — first, 
 to parents, — then, to children, — and, in the last 
 place, to those young persons who are grown up to 
 years of maturity, but not yet fixed in families of 
 their own. 
 
 I. Let me address my discourse to those of you 
 that are parents ; ■Whether you have been negligent 
 of the duties I have now been urging, or through 
 grace have been careful in the discharge of them. 
 
 1. To those who have been grossly negligent in 
 this important care. 
 
 I have here one advantage not common to every 
 sulyect ; I mean, that the guilty will immediately 
 know themselves. When we apply ourselves in 
 general to unconverted sinners, ignorance of the 
 nature of true religion, a neglect of conversing with 
 your own souls, or the insinuating prejudices of 
 self-love, may disguise the true state of the case, 
 and leach people to speak peace to themselves, 
 under the most awful denunciations of wrath and 
 vengeance. But here, one would imagine, that the 
 
570 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 recolK'ctioii of a few moments niifjlit be siiHirieiit 1o 
 determine tlie case; beeause tlie (luestioii relates to 
 past fact, and tliat not merely to one parti< ular 
 action, but to a lona: train and succession of laliourd 
 and attempts. 
 
 Now let your consciences witness, M'hctlier I am 
 guilty of a breach of charity, when I take it for 
 granted, tliat there are some amongst you, who have 
 been, and are, very negligent of the duty I have 
 now been enforcing? You have probably contented 
 yourselves with teaching your children to read, and 
 setting them to learn, like parrots, a prayer, and 
 perhaps, too, a catechism and a creed. But I appeal 
 to your consciences, have you from the very day of 
 their birth to this time, ever spent one hour in 
 seriously instructing them in the knowledge of God, 
 and endca\ouring to form them to his fear and 
 service; in setting before them the misery of their 
 natural condition, and urging them to api)ly to 
 Christ for life and salvation ; in representing the 
 solemnities of death, and judgment, and the ctcrn;il 
 world, and urging an immediate and diligent pre- 
 paration for them ? Where is the time, where the 
 place, that can witness, that you have been pouring 
 out your souls before God on their account, and 
 wrestling with him for their lives, as knowing they 
 must perish for ever, witliout the righteousness of 
 his Son, and the grace of liis Spirit ? AYhere, or 
 w hen, liave you thus prayed with them, or for f hem ? 
 What sermon have you lieard, what scripture have 
 you read, ^\ itli this thought, " This will I carry to my 
 children, and communicate to them as the food of 
 their souls 1" I fear there are several of you that 
 have' been so far from doing it, that you have 
 hardly ever seriously thought of it as a thing to be 
 done. 
 
 And I would ask, Why have you not thought of 
 it, and why have you not done it ? Are these crea- 
 tures that you have produced, like the other animals 
 of your houses or your field, mere animated systems 
 of flesh and blood, made to take a turn in life for a 
 few days and months, and then to sink into ever- 
 lasting forgetfulness ? Or are they rational and 
 immortal creatures, that musV exist for ever in 
 heaven or in hell .' This is not a matter of doubt 
 with you ; and yet you behave as if the very con- 
 trary to what you believe were evident, certain 
 truth. In short, it is the most barbarous part you 
 act, and more like that of an enemy tlian a parent. 
 
 It is not that you are insensible of the workings 
 of parental tenderness. No, far from that, it may 
 sometimes rise to a weak and criminal dotage ; yet 
 I repeat it again, you are acting a hostile and bar- 
 barous j)art. You are greatly solicitous for their 
 temporal hapjiiness. For this you labour and watch ; 
 for this you deny yourselves many an enjoyment, 
 and suljjcct yourselves to many an uneasy circum- 
 stance : but, alas ! Sirs, where is the real friend- 
 
 ship of all this, while the precious soul is neglected? 
 Your ciiiidren are born with a corrupted nature, 
 pefverted by sinful examples, ignorant of God, in 
 a state of growing enmity to him, and, in conse- 
 quence of all, exposed to his wrath and curse, 
 and in the way to everlasting ruin ; in the mean 
 time it is your great care, that they may pt'ss 
 through tiiis precarious, momentary life, in case 
 and jdeasure, perhaps in abundance and grandeur; 
 that is. in such circumstances, as will i)robably lull 
 them into a forgetfulness of their danger, till there 
 be no more hope. How cruel a kindness ! 
 
 It brings to my mind the account which an 
 ancient writer* gives of the old Carthaginians, 
 which I can never recollect witliout great emotion. 
 He is speaking of tliat diabolical custom which so 
 long prevailed amongst them, of olfering their chil- 
 dren to a detestable idol, Mhich w as formed in sucli 
 a manner, that ar. infant put into his hands, which 
 were stretched out to receive if, would immediately 
 fall into a gulf of firc.f He adds a circumstance, 
 which one cannot mention without horror; that the 
 mothers, who with their own hands presented the 
 little innocents, thouglit it an unfortunate omen that 
 the victim should be oflercd weeping; and therefore 
 used a great many fond artifices to divert it, that 
 soothed by the kisses and caresses of a parent, it 
 might smile in the dreadful moment in which it was 
 to be given up to the idol.]: Pardon me, my friends; 
 such is your parental care and love, such your 
 concern for the present ease and prosperity of your 
 children, while their souls are neglected : a fond 
 solicitude, that they may pass smiling into the liands 
 of tiie destroyer ! 
 
 You know, with what just severity God reckons 
 witli the Israelites for their abominable wickedness, 
 in taking his sons and his daughters, (for so he calls 
 the children of his professing people,) and sacrificing 
 them to be devoured: and can you suppose he will 
 take no notice of the unnatural neglect of yours. 
 Not to endeavour to save, is to destroy ; and is it a 
 little guilt, when an immortal soul is in question? 
 You probably remember those terrible words in 
 Ezekiel ; (may they be deeply inscribed on the 
 hearts of all w hom they concern !) Son of man, I 
 have made thee a watchman to the house of Israel, 
 therefore hear thou tlie word from my mouth, and 
 give them ai arning from nic ; — and if thou speakest 
 not to warn the w icked from his wicked way, to 
 save his life, the same wicked man shall die in his 
 iniquity, but his blood will I require at thine hand. 
 If ever you read this passage w ith attention, you 
 must own it is exceedingly aw ful, and must be ready 
 to say, " The Lord be merciful to ministers, they 
 have a solemn account to give." Indeed they have; 
 
 ♦ Minutins Felix. 
 
 + DIodor Sic. 111). XX. rap. ] t. lUiscl). Prrcp. I^iaiis. lib. iy. rap. 7. 
 } Ulaiiditiis ft o^nilis omiprimeiite vasitiim, lie Hcbilis liostia 
 immoletur. Minut. Fel. Oclai: J 30. page 57. Tertull. Apol. cap. ix. 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 571 
 
 and we thank you, if you ever bestow a compas- 
 sionate thought and prayer upon us. But permit me 
 to remind you, that though it be our case, it is not 
 ours alone ; you have likewise your share in it. 
 Your children are much more immediately com- 
 mitted to your care, than you and tliey are com- 
 mitted to ours : and, by all parity of reason, if they 
 perish in their iniquities, while you neglect to give 
 them warning, their blood will be required at your 
 hand. 
 
 And when God comes to make inquisition for 
 that blood, how will you be able to endure it ? 
 That awful day will open upon you, and the tribunal 
 of God, in all its terrors, will stand unveiled before 
 you. Give me leave to direct your eyes to it in this 
 distant prospect, while there is yet room to mitigate 
 those terrors. If you go on in this cruel negligence 
 of the souls of your children, how will you dare to 
 meet them at that judgment-seat ? How will you be 
 able to answer the great Father of spirits, when 
 expostulating with you on account of his offspring, 
 as well as yours, who have been betrayed and 
 ruined by your neglect? " Inhuman creatures, (may 
 he justly say,) to whom should I have committed 
 the care of them, rather than to you ? Did they not, 
 by my appointment, derive their being from you ? 
 Did I not implant in your hearts the natural affec- 
 tions of parents towards them ? And to increase the 
 obligation, did they not pass through the tender 
 scenes of infancy and childhood in your arms, and 
 under your eye ! If you had no compassion for their 
 perishing souls, if you would exert no efforts for 
 their deliverance and salvation, from whom could 
 those compassions, those efforts, have been expect- 
 ed? But wherein did they appear? Behold the book 
 of my remembrance, the records of thy life, thrown 
 open before thee : where is tlie memorial of one hour 
 .spent in holy in.struction, or in fervent prayer with 
 them, or for them ? Can I approve, can I acquit, you 
 on such a review ? Or shall I not rather visit for 
 these things? and shall not my soul be avenged for 
 such a conduct as this ? 
 
 - And your chil 'ren, — will they he silent on the 
 occasion? Did Adam, in the distress and amaze- 
 ment of his soul, when in the presence of his judge, 
 accuse Eve, his wife, so lately taken from his^ide, 
 and committed to his protection, and slill, no 
 doubt, appearing lovely in the midst of sorrow ! 
 And will your children in that terrible day spare 
 you ? You may rather expect they will labour to 
 the utmost to aggravate a crime which costs them 
 so dear, that so they may, if possible, alleviate their 
 own guilt, or if not, indulge their revenge. " O 
 God," may they perhaps then cry out, in tiie most 
 piercing accents of indignation and despair, " Ihou 
 art righteous in the sentence thou passest upon us, 
 and we justly die for our own iniquity. We have 
 destroyed ourselves. But wilt thou not remem- 
 
 ber that our ruin is in part chargeable here ? Had 
 these our parents been faithful to thee, and to us, 
 it had perhaps been prevented. Had our infancy 
 been formed by religious instruction, we might not 
 have grown up to wickedness ; we might not, in the 
 advance of life, have despised thy word, and 
 trampled on thy Son ; but might this day have been 
 owned by thee as thy children, and have risen to 
 that inheritance of light and glory, which we now 
 behold at this unapproachable distance. Oh! cursed 
 be the fathers that begat us ; cursed the womb that 
 bare us ; cursed the paps that gave us suck ! Re- 
 member us, O Lord, whilst thou art judging them ; 
 and let us have this one wretched comfort, in the 
 midst of all our agonies, that it is not with impunity 
 that they have betrayed our souls !" 
 
 This is indeed shocking and diabolical language ; 
 and for that verj' reason, it is so much the more 
 probable on so dreadful an occasion. And give me 
 leave to ask you one question, ray friends, and I 
 will conclude this head. If your children were 
 thus crying out against you in the bitterness of 
 their souls, could you attempt to silence them, by 
 reminding them of the care which you took of their 
 temporal affairs, or of the riclies and grandeur in 
 which you left them on earth? Nay, could you 
 have the heart so much as to mention such a trifle? 
 And if you could not, then, in the name of God, 
 Sirs, how do you .satisfy yourselves to confine all 
 your thoughts and labours to that which, by your 
 own confession, will neither secure your children 
 from everlasting destruction, nor give them one 
 moment's relief in the review, when they are falling 
 into it? 
 
 I will make no apology for the plainness and 
 earnestness which I have used. Eternal interests 
 are at stake, and the whole tenor of Scripture sup- 
 ports me in what I say. I had rather you should 
 be alarmed w hh hearing these things from me now, 
 than tormented with hearing them in another man- 
 ner from your children, and from God, at last. If 
 you please to take proper measures for preventing 
 the danger, I have told you the way at large : if 
 you do not, I hope I may say, " I am, in this re- 
 spect, clear from your blood, and the blood of 
 yours, who may perish by your means : look you 
 to it." 
 
 But it is higli time that I proceed in my address, 
 and a|)ply myself, 
 
 2. To those parents who have been careful to 
 discharge the duty we have so copiously described 
 and enforced. 
 
 I cannot suppose that any of us would pretend to 
 maintain that in this, or any other branch of duty, 
 we have acted up to the utmost extent and perfec- 
 tion of our rule. I hope, a humble sense of the 
 deficiencies of all the best of our services, is fre- 
 quently leading us to the believing views of a better 
 
673 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 righteousness tlian our own, in which alone \vc can 
 dare to appear helorc a holy God, and answer the 
 demands of his perfect law. Nevertheless, it is 
 surely allowable to rejoice in the testimony of our 
 conscience, with res^ard to the ref^iilarity of our own 
 behaviour, so far as it is conformable to reason and 
 Sf'ripturc ; and it is an important duty, tliankfully 
 to own those influences of sanctifying and strength- 
 ening grace, by which w e are w hat we are. 
 
 It is with great pleasure I recollect the reason I 
 have to believe, that many of you, Ciiristians, who 
 hear me this day, arc, in the main, conscientiously 
 practising these duties ; and that some of you were 
 doing it long before I was capable of exhorting and 
 directing you. Acknowledge the singular goodness 
 of God, by which you have been excited to tlicm, 
 and furnished for them. 
 
 More especially have you reason to adore if, if 
 through grace you can say, with regard to the pre- 
 sent success, what you may certainly say as to the 
 future reeompenee, that your labour in the Lord is 
 not in vain. Let God have the glory of liis own 
 work. I persuade myself, you understand the gos- 
 pel too well, to ascribe it to the prudence of your 
 ow n conduct, to the strength of your reasoning, or 
 to the warmth and tenderness of your address. 
 Whatever of these advantages you have possessed, 
 were derived from God ; and your very care for 
 your offspring, is, (as the apostle expresses it in a 
 like case,) the earnest care which God has put into 
 your hearts. But it w as not this care, or these ad- 
 vantages, alone, that produced so happy an effect. 
 In vain had your doctrines from day to day dropped 
 as the rain, and distilled as the dew, in tlie most 
 gentle and insinuating manner ; in vain had the 
 precious seed of the word been sown with unwearied 
 diligence, and watered with tears too ; had not God 
 commanded the operations of his blessed Spirit to 
 come down, as a more efficacious rain, as more 
 fruitful showers, to water their hearts. O be not 
 insensible of the favour! Your own souls might to 
 this very day, have been a barren wilderness, a land 
 of drought, a habitation of devils ; and behold, 
 not only they, but your families too, are like a field, 
 like a garden, which the Lord has blessed. God 
 might have cut you ofl' many years ago, for your 
 neglect of his covenant, or your breaches of it ; and 
 behold, he is establishing it, not only with you, but 
 your seed after you, for an everlasting covenant. 
 Mcthinks your hearts should overflow with gratitude 
 and holy joy, while you dwell on such reflections as 
 these. This ..hould add a relish to all the pleasure 
 you find in conversing with your children : this 
 siiould quicken you to further diligence in culti- 
 vating those graces, which you have the satisfaction 
 to see already implanted : tliis should reconcile 
 you to all the afllictions with which Providence 
 may exercise cither you or them : this should sup- 
 
 port you in the views of a separation, either by 
 your own death, or by theirs ; since you have so 
 comfortable a hope, that if they arc removed they 
 will go to a heavenly Father, and that if they are 
 left behind you, they will be safe and happy under 
 his care, till you meet in a better world, where you 
 will be for ever to each other a mutual glory and 
 
 joy- 
 But I cannot congratulate you on such an occa- 
 sion, without the danger of adding affliction to the 
 afflicted parents, whose circumstances, alas ! are 
 far difTerent from yours. I fear, my friends, that 
 there arc some amongst you, who look round you, 
 and look forwards, with far difl'erent prospects ; 
 some who are, with bleeding hearts, borrowing the 
 complaint, which wc who arc ministers of the gos- 
 pel so frequently breathe forth, We have laboured 
 in vain, and spent our strength for nought. " O 
 (may you perhaps add) that it were only in vain ! 
 Those dear children, which wc early devoted to God 
 in baptism, w hich we endeavoured to educate in the 
 knowledge and fear of the Lord, the children of 
 our hopes, the children of our prayers, are unfruit- 
 ful under all our cultivation ; or, it may be, visibly 
 turned aside from the good ways in which they 
 were trained up ; as if they had known them only 
 to reject and affront them : so that, wc have reason 
 to fear, that all wc have already done, as it is an 
 aggravation of their guilt, will be a proportionable 
 aggravation of their ruin." 
 
 It is indeed a very pitiable case. We owe you 
 our compassions, and we owe you our prayers ; but 
 permit us to intermix our consolations and our ad- 
 monitions. You have at least delivered your own 
 souls ; and as you participate in the sorrows of 
 faithfuf ministers, you may share in their comforts 
 too ; and say with them, Tliough tlie objects of our 
 compassionate care be not gathered, yet sliall we 
 1)C glorious, for our work is with the Lord, and our 
 reward w ith our God. Go on therefore in the midst 
 of all your discouragements, and, in this respect, 
 be not weary in well-doing. Take heed of such a 
 despair, as would cut the sinews of future endea- 
 vours. If your child were labouring under any 
 bodily distemper, you would be very unwilling that 
 tlie physicians should quite give him over, and try 
 no further medicines : you would follow them, and 
 say, " Can nothing more be done? Is there notthe 
 least glimmering of hope ?" Alas ! my friends, a 
 child given up by a pious parent, is, to a believing 
 eye, a much more melancholy sight, than a patient 
 given over by tlie physicians. Excuse me then, if 
 I follow you with the question, " Can nothing more 
 be done ? Is there not the least glimmering of hope ?" 
 Who told you, that the sentence of condemnation 
 is sealed, while you are sure it is not executed ? Is 
 the danger extreme? Let your efforts be so much 
 the more zealous, your admonitions so much the 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 573 
 
 more frequent and serious, your prayers so much 
 the more earnest and importunate. And on the 
 whole, (to allude to the words of David, on a much 
 lower occasion,) who can tell whether God will be 
 gracious to you, that the child may live ? And the 
 sad apprehensions which you now entertain, may 
 only serve to increase the joy with which you shall 
 then say. This my son was dead, and is alive again ; 
 he was lost, and is found. 
 
 II. I would address myself to children : To you, 
 the dear lambs of the flock, whom I look upon as 
 no contemptible part of my charge. I have been 
 speaking for you a great while, and now give me 
 leave to speak to you ; and pray do you endeavour, 
 for a few minutes, to mind every word that I say. 
 
 You see, it is your parents' duty to bring you up 
 for God. The great God of heaven and earth has 
 been pleased to give his express command, that 
 jou should be trained up in the way in which you 
 should go, even in the nurture and admonition of 
 the Lord. It is the wonderful goodness of God to 
 give such a charge ; and methinks you should be 
 affected with it, and should be inquiring what you 
 should do in return. 
 
 Now there are three things, which I would ask of 
 every one of you, in return for this gracious notice 
 which the great God has taken of you children ; 
 and I am sure, if you love your own souls, you will 
 not deny me any of them. — Be willing to learn the 
 things of God ; — pray for them that teach you ; — 
 and see to it, you do not learn them in vain. Listen 
 diligently, that you may understand and remember 
 each of these. 
 
 1. Be willing to learn the things of God. 
 
 The things of God are very delightful, and they 
 are very useful ; and, whatever you may think of 
 it, your life depends on your acquaintance with 
 them. So Christ himself says, This is life eternal, 
 that they may know thee, the only true God, and 
 Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent. Therefore you, 
 children, should not think much of the labour of 
 learning these things. Oh ! far from that, you 
 should be every day upon your knees, begging God, 
 that you may be taugJit to know him, and to know 
 I Christ. God has done a great deal more for you, 
 than he has for many others. You might have been 
 born in a place, where you would never have seen a 
 Bible in all your lives ; where you would never have 
 heard of the name of Christ, where you might never 
 have been instructed in the nature of duty and sin, 
 nor have been told of the v.orld beyond the grave ; 
 and so would probably have fallen info hell, before 
 you had known there was such a place. And the 
 great God has ordained matters so, that you arc 
 born under the light of the gospel, and have such 
 plain and excellent instructions, that you may know 
 more of divine things in your infancy, than the 
 wise me.i amongst the heathens did, wlicn Ihcy 
 
 were old and grey-headed, and had spent all their 
 lives in study. And will you be so ungrateful, as 
 not to be willing to learn, when such provision is 
 made for your instruction ? God forbid ! Shall 
 God give you his word, and your parents and 
 ministers employ their time, and their pains, to 
 teach you the meaning of it, and will you refuse to 
 attend to it? That were foolish and wicked in- 
 deed. I hope much better things of you. This is 
 my first advice : be willing to learn. I add, 
 
 2. Pray for those that are to teach you. 
 
 I would hope you, little creatures, dare not live 
 without prayer. I hope God, who sees in secret, 
 sees many of you on your knees every morning and 
 every evening, asking a blessing from him as your 
 heavenly Father. Now let me entreat you, that at 
 such times you would pray for those that instruct 
 you in divine things ; pray that God would bless 
 them for it, and pray that he would help them in 
 it. In praying thus for us, you do indeed pray for 
 yourselves. There is a gracious promise to the 
 people of God: "And they shall be all taught of 
 God :" pray that it may be fulfilled. Pray, that 
 God would teach us to teach you: else we should 
 attempt it to very little purpose. Pray for your 
 parents, and pray for your ministers. 
 
 Pray for your parents: That God would help 
 them to instruct you in such a maun'^r as they have 
 now been directed : that they may do it plainly, SO 
 that yon may be able to understand w hat they say ; 
 and seriously, that you may be brought to a holy 
 awe of God ; and tenderly, that you may be engag- 
 ed to love God and his word, and Christ and his 
 ways : and pray that your parents may be stirred 
 up to do it frequently, to give you line upon line, 
 and precept upon precept, that you may be put in 
 mind of what you arc so ready to forget. 
 
 And let me desire you, my dear <;harge, when 
 you pray for your parents, to pray for your minister 
 too. I declare it again, in the most public manner, 
 it is my earnest desire that children would pray 
 for me. And I verily believe every faithful minis- 
 ter of Christ would join with me in such a request. 
 We do not, we dare not, despise the prayers of one 
 of these little ones. Far from that, I am persuaded 
 it would greatly revive and encourage us, and we 
 should hope that God had some singular mercy in 
 store for us and his people, if wc were sure the 
 children of the congregation were every day praying 
 for a blessing on our labours. 
 
 ."3. Take heed that you do not learn in vain. 
 
 The great truths which you arc taught froni the 
 word of God are not intended merely to fill your 
 heads with notions, but to make your hearts and 
 lives more holy. You know the way to your father'.s 
 house, every step of it, but tliat would never carry 
 you home, if you would not go in it. No more will 
 it signify (o know the wav to heaven, unless you 
 
 I 
 
574 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 ualk in if. If you know these things, says the 
 Lord Jesus Clirist himself, liappy arc ye if ye do 
 ihem. And I may add, that if ye do them not, it 
 had been happier for you if you had never known 
 them. Dear children, consider it ; it is but a little 
 M-hire, and you mu.st die : and when those aclivc 
 bodies of yours arc become cold, mouldering- clay, 
 the great (Jod of heaven and eaith will call your 
 souls to his judgment-seat. As sure as you are 
 now in his house, you will shortly, very shortly, be 
 standing before his awful throne. Then he will 
 examine to what purpose you have heard so many 
 religious instructions, so many good lessons. Then 
 he will examine, whether you have feared him, and 
 loved him, and served him, and received the Lord 
 Jesus into your hearts, as your Saviour and your 
 King ; whether you have chosen sin or holiness for 
 your way, earth or heaven for your portion. And 
 if it be found that you have lived without thought 
 and Mithout prayer, without any regard to the 
 eye of God always upon you, and the word of 
 God always before you, it will be a most lament- 
 able ease. You will have reason to wish you had 
 never heard of these things at all ; for he has said, 
 The servant which knew his Lord's will and did it 
 not, shall be beaten with many stripes. Even while 
 I am speaking to you, death is coining on ; perhaps 
 liis scythe may cut you dow n while you are but 
 coming up as flowers. I speak to you thus plainly 
 and earnestly, because I do not know but you may 
 be in eternity before another Lord's day. O pray 
 earnestly that God would give you his grace to fit 
 you for glory ; and that all you learn may be so 
 blessed, that you may be made wise to salvation by 
 it. The Lord grant that it may. 
 
 And I have one thing to tell you for your encou- 
 ragement, and then I have done with you for this 
 time. How young soever you are, and how broken 
 soever your prayers may be, the great and glorious 
 Lord of angels and men w ill be willing to hear what 
 you say. You may be sure to be welcome to the 
 throne of grace. The Lord Jesus Christ, when he 
 was upon earth, was very angry with those who 
 would have hindered little children from coming to 
 him. He said. Suffer little children to come unto 
 me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom 
 of God. And Christ is as compassionate now as 
 ever he was. Go to him, and you may humbly hope 
 he will, as it were, take you up in his arms, and 
 bless you. He has said it, and I hope you will 
 never forget it ; I love tlicin that love me, and they 
 that seek me early shall find me. O that I were 
 but as sure that every child in this assembly would 
 go and ask a blessing from Christ, as I am that our 
 dear Lord is willing to bestow it! But to draw to 
 a conclusion. 
 
 III. I .shall address myself to those young persons 
 who are grown up to years of maturity, under the 
 
 advanlagcs of a religious education, and arc not yet 
 fixed in families of their own. 
 
 I hope that many of you have been sensible of 
 the value of those opportunities you have enjoyed, 
 and by di\ine grace have been enabled to improve 
 them well ; yet I must add, that I fear there are 
 others amongst you who have unhappily neglected 
 and abused them. I must apply myself distinctly 
 to each of you. 
 
 1. To those young persons, who have neglected 
 and abused the advantages of a religious education. 
 
 I confess, there are hardly any to whom I speak 
 with so little pleasure, because I have seldom less 
 reason to hope I shall succeed. What shall I say 
 to you? What can I say, that you have not often 
 heard, and often despised ? One is almost tempted, 
 in such a circumstance, to turn reasonings and ex- 
 postulations into upbraidings; and even to adopt 
 those too j)assionatc words of Moses, " Hear now, 
 ye rebels, you that have grown up in the know- 
 ledge, and yet in the contempt, of divine things ; you 
 that have disappointed the hopes, and slighted the 
 admonitions, of your pious parents, and so have 
 broken their spirits, and, it may be, their hearts too, 
 and have brought down their hoary hairs with 
 sorrow to the grave. One way or another you have 
 perhaps silenced them. But is it a small thing to 
 you, that you have thus wearied men, and will you 
 attempt to w eary your God also ? Can you dare to 
 hope, that you shall at last carry those proud 
 thoughtless heads triumphant over all tlie terrors 
 of his word!" You imagine it a very happy cir- 
 cumstance that you have got loose from those mor- 
 tifying lessons, and uneasy restraints, you were 
 once under. But really, when one seriously con- 
 siders whither these liberties lead you, and where 
 they will probably end, a just resentment of your 
 ingratitude is almost disarmed, and indignation is 
 converted into pity. 
 
 Alas! sinners, the way of all transgressors is 
 hard ; but yours is peculiarly so. You, whom I am 
 now addressing, are in the morning of your days, 
 and it is not to be supposed that the impressions 
 of a good education are yet entirely elfaced. What 
 future years may do 1 know not ; but hitherto, I 
 persuade myself, you have frequently your reflec- 
 tions and your convictions: convictions, which 
 have force enough to torment you, though not to 
 reform you ; to i)lant thorns in the paths of sin, 
 though not to reduce you to those of duty. But if 
 you feel nothing of this remorse and anxiety, such 
 a dead calm is then more dreadful than the fierctjt 
 storm and tumult of thought : a sad indication that 
 your course in wickedness has been exceeding 
 sw ift ; indeed, so swift, that it is probable it may 
 nf)t be long. Oh that it might immediately be 
 slopped by divine grace, rather than by the ven- 
 geance you have so much reason to fear. 
 
ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 675 
 
 At least be engaged to pause in it for a few 
 moments, and let reason and conscience be per- 
 mitted to speak. How is it that you make your- 
 selves, I will not say entirely, but tolerably, easy .' 
 Is it by the disbelief of Christianity ? Do you 
 secretly suspect, that the gospel is but a cunningly 
 devised fable .' Yet even that suspicion is not 
 enough. Let me rather ask, " Are you so confident 
 it is so, that you will venture to stake even the life 
 of your souls upon its falsehood!" If you were 
 come to such a confidence, yet it is amazing to me 
 how, even on the principles of natural religion alone, 
 persons in your circumstances can make themselves 
 easy. Can any of the libertines of the present age, 
 that believe a God, imagine that he is altogether 
 such a one as themselves ? Can they flatter them- 
 selves so far as to hope, that they, in the ways of 
 negligence, profaneness, and debauchery, are likely 
 to meet with a more favourable treatment from hint, 
 than those pious parents whose principles they 
 deride? or that this loose and irregular course will 
 end better, than tliat life of prayer and self-denial, 
 of faith and love, of spirituality and heaveni}- 
 inindedness, which they discerned in them? Few 
 are so abandoned, even of common sense, as to 
 think til is. 
 
 But these are more disfant concerns. I bless 
 God, this kind of infidelity is not in fashion here. 
 You assent to the gospel as true, and therefore 
 must know, that God, who observes and records 
 your conduct now, will bring you into judgment for 
 it another day. And if you go on thus, how will 
 you stand in that judgment ? What will you plead .' 
 On what will you repose the confidence of your 
 souls, that will not prove a broken reed, which will 
 
 I go up into your hand, and pierce you deep, in pro- 
 portion to the stress you lay upon it? While you 
 behave like a generation of vipers, think not to say 
 within yourselves, We have Abraham for our father. 
 Think not to plead a relation to the religious parents, 
 whose God and « ho.se ways you have forsaken. 
 Think not to plead an early dedication to him in 
 the baptismal covenant, which you have broken, 
 despised, and in fact renounced. Think not to 
 plead that external profession, which you have so 
 shamefully contradicted, and even by wearing it, 
 dishonoured. You will see the weakness of such 
 picas as these, and will not dare to trifle with that 
 awful tribunal, .so far as to mention them there. 
 And when you are yourselves thus silent and con- 
 founded, who will appear as an advocate in your 
 
 i favour? Your parents were often presenting their 
 supplications and intercessions for you before the 
 throne of grace, but there will be no room to present 
 them before the throne of justice : nor will they 
 have any inclination to do it. All the springs of 
 natural fondness will be dried up; they will no 
 longer regard you as their children, when Ihey see 
 
 you in the accursed number of the enemies of their 
 God. 
 
 And when you are thus disowned by your parents, 
 and disowned by God, whither will you cause your 
 shame and your terror to go ? You, who have had 
 so many privileges, and so many opportunities, per- 
 haps I may add, so many fond presumptuous hopes 
 too, how will you bear to see multitudes coming 
 from carnal and profane families, to share with 
 your parents in the inheritance of glory from 
 which you are excluded? You, who were the 
 children of the kingdom ; whose remorse therefore 
 must be the more cutting ; whose condemnation 
 therefore must be the more weighty ! Observe in 
 how strong and lively a view our Lord has repre- 
 sented this awful thought, in words which, tliough 
 immediately addressed to the unbelieving Jews, 
 are remarkably applicable to you : Tliere shall be 
 weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see 
 Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, (your pious ances- 
 tors,) in tl'.e kingdom of God, and you yourselves 
 thrust out : and many shall come from the north, 
 and the south, and the east, and the m est, and shall 
 sit down with them in the kingdom of God ; but 
 the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into 
 utter darkness. 
 
 But through the divine forbearance you are not 
 yet shutout. There is still hope even for you, if 
 you will now return to the God of your fathers, 
 from whom, by these aggravated transgressions, you 
 have so deeply revolted. Let me tiicn once more 
 tenderly entreat you, and solemnly charge you, by 
 the consolations of the living, and by tiie memory 
 of the pious dead, by your present comforts, by 
 your future hopes, by the nearly-approaching so- 
 lemnities of death and judgment, by the mercies of 
 God, and by the blood of a Redeemer, that you 
 consider, and show yourselves men ; that you set 
 yourselves, as it were, attentively to read over the 
 characters inscribed on your mcnioiics and under- 
 standings in the course of a religious education ; 
 that you hearken to the voice of conscience repeat- 
 ing those admonitions, and to the voice of the 
 blessed God, as speaking in his word to confirm 
 them ; and finally, that you apply to him in a most 
 importunate manner, for those victorious influences 
 of his Spirit, which are able to mollify and trans- 
 form tliese hearts of stone, and to raise even you, 
 from so low a depth of degeneracy and danger, to 
 the character and happiness of the genuine chil- 
 dren of Abraham. God forbid, that I should sin 
 against your souls, and my own, in ceasing to pray 
 that it may be so ! And now, 
 
 2. I shall conclude all, with an address to those 
 young persons, who have been, through grace, 
 engaged to a becoming improvement of the religious 
 education they have enjoyed. 
 
 1 have the pleasure of being well assured, that 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 there are many such amongst you : many who iirc 
 now tlie joy of ministers and parents, and the hope 
 of the church for suceeedingf years. Let me entreat 
 you, my dear brethren and friends, that you daily 
 acknowledge the divine goodness, in favouring 
 you w ith such advantages ; and, what is still more 
 valuable, in giving you a heart to prize and to im- 
 prove tliem. 
 
 Think how different your circumstances might 
 have been. Providence might have cast your lot 
 in some distant age or country, where the true God 
 had been unknown, w here your early steps had been 
 guided to the groves and temples of detestable 
 idols, and you might possibly have been taught to 
 consecrate lust or murder by tlie name of devotion. 
 Or you might have been educated in popish dark- 
 ness, where the Scripture would have been to you 
 as a sealed book, and you would have seen Chris- 
 tianity polluted with idolatrous rites, on some 
 accounts more inexcusable than those of tlie hea- 
 then, and adulterated with the most absurd and 
 pernicious errors. There the mistaken piety of your 
 parents might have proved a dangerous snare, 
 whilst it had infused a blind, and perhaps a cruel, 
 zeal, and a proud furious opposition to all the 
 methods of better information. 
 
 Nay, even here, in a protestaut country, is it not 
 too evident, there are many families in which liad 
 you been born and educated you had sat as in dark- 
 ness and the shadow of death, though in the land 
 of light and the vallej' of vision ? Your infant 
 tongue had been formed to the language of hell, 
 and exei'cised in curses and oaths rather than in 
 prayer. You had early been taught to deride every 
 appearance of serious godliness ; and all the irre- 
 gular propensities of nature had been strengthened 
 by examples of wickedness, which might have been 
 sufficient to corrupt innocence itself. When you 
 consider the w ide difference between these circum- 
 stances and your own, surely whatever your portion 
 of worldly possessions may be, you have reason to 
 lift up your hands to heaven with wonder and gra- 
 titude, and to say, The lines are fallen to us in 
 pleasant places, yea, we have a goodly heritage. 
 
 Nor is this all : There are many around you who 
 have shared in such advantages as these, and have 
 sinfully abused them, to tlie dishonour of God, to 
 the grief of their parents, and to their own danger, 
 and perhaps their ruin. And why are not you in 
 that w retched number ? or w ho maketh thee to differ 
 from them ? Why are not your hearts barred against 
 the entrance of a Redeemer, but because the Lord 
 
 has opened them ? Why were not all the good in- 
 structions which have been given to you, like seed 
 sown upon a rock, but because God gave the 
 increase ? Adore the riches of this distinguishing 
 grace. 
 
 And let me earnestly exhort you, that you be 
 careful still further to improve it. Give me leave 
 to say, that these fair openings of early seriousness 
 do naturally raise a very high expectation of emi- 
 nent advances in religion. Let it be your humble 
 and diligent care, that these expectations be an- 
 swered ; that your goodness may not be like the 
 morning cloud, or the early dew, which soon goeth 
 away ; but rather like the dawning light, which 
 shines brighter and brighter till the perfect day. 
 
 Whilst Providence continues these holy parents 
 to whom you have been so highly indebted, let it 
 be your constant care, by all the most cheerful 
 returns of duty and gratitude, to express your 
 regards to them, and your sense of so great an 
 obligation. And I will add, let it be your care to 
 hand dow n to future ages those important advan- 
 tages you have received from them. 
 
 One generation passetii away, and another gene- 
 ration cometh. It is highly probable that in a few 
 years numbers of you will be conducted into new 
 relations ; and we please ourselves with the hope, 
 that you will carry religion and happiness into 
 rising families. Let not those hopes be disap- 
 pointed. When God fixes you in houses of your 
 own, let it be your first concern to erect there such 
 domestic altars, as those at which you have wor- 
 shipped with such holy pleasure, and sensible 
 tokens of divine acceptance. Let the sacred trea- 
 sure of divine know ledge, which has been deposited 
 with you, be faithfully delivered down to your 
 descendants ; that they, in their turn, may arise 
 with the same pious zeal, to transmit it to another 
 generation, that shall be born of them. 
 
 And may divine grace, that inexhaustible spring 
 of the most valuable blessings, sweetly flow on to 
 add efficacy to all, that real vital religion may be 
 the glory and joy of every succeeding age ; till this 
 earth (which is but a place of education for the 
 children of God, during their minority) shall pass 
 away to make room for a far nobler scene and state 
 of existence ; where pious parents and their reli- 
 gious offspring shall for ever enjoy the most de- 
 lightful society, inhabiting the palace of our 
 Iieavenly Father, and surrounding the throne of 
 our glorified Redeemer ! Amen. 
 
SERMONS 
 
 TO YOUNG PERSONS. 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Young Persons helonginfj to the Dissenting Congregations at Hinckley, Harhorough, 
 and Kihworth in Leicestershire, and at Ashley, and Northampton. 
 
 My dear Brethren and Friends, 
 At length, after a long and unexpected delay, I offer to your perusal a few sermons which I promised 
 the public some years ago ; all which some or other of you heard, and in which you are all concerned. 
 
 It is not material to tell you on what account I have laid by some, which I had transcribed for your 
 service, and which you probably expected to have seen with these. I have substituted in their room 
 such, as I thought might, by the divine blessing, be most useful to you. 
 
 I hope you will peruse them with candour ; and the rather, considering they were prepared for the press 
 chiefly in some broken moments, while I was on journeys, or in some fragments of time at home, often 
 taken from my sleep ; as the stated duties of my calling require an attendance, which will not allow of 
 any long interruption. You would readily excuse what defects you may discover in them, if you knew 
 that tender concern for your present and future happiness, by which every sermon, and every page, has 
 been dictated. They have often been mingled with prayers and with tears ; and my heart is so full of 
 affection to you, tliat it is with great difficulty that I forbear enlarging, more than the proper limits of 
 such an address will admit. 
 
 As for you, my Leicestershire friends, amongst whom my ministry was opened, and the first years of it 
 were delightfully spent, I cannot forget, and I hope you have not forgotten, that intimate and pleasing 
 friendship with which M e were once almost daily conversing ; the sweet counsel we have often taken 
 together in private, as well as the pleasure with which we have gone to the house of God in company. 
 All these sermons, but the second and fifth of them, were first drawn up for your service, and preached 
 to you ; and much of that tenderness for you, which gave birth to them, has been rising afresh in my 
 mind while I have been taking this review of them. I hope they were not then like water unprolitably 
 spilt on the ground, and that the perusal of them may revive impressions made by the first hearing. 
 Intermediate years have introduced new scenes; and some of us who were then in the morning of life, 
 are now risen up to the meridian of it. Providence has conducted many of you into new relations ; and 
 it is my pleasure to observe, in how honourable and useful a manner several of you are filling thcni up 
 with their proper duties. 
 
 While you are yourselves instances of the happy consequences which attend a religious education, I 
 hope you will be singularly careful, that your descendants may share in tlic like advantages ; and I shall 
 heartily rejoice, if these sermons, or those 1 have formerly published, may be of any assistance to you in 
 those pious cares. God has put an early period to the lives of some, who, when I was amongst you, were 
 the growing hopes of the respective congregations to which they belonged. Several of them have died 
 while these sermons were transcribing. May the thought quicken you in the improvement of so uncer- 
 tain a life ; and may divine grace render some things, peculiarly intended for the use of tliosc who are 
 now beyond the reach of such an address, serviceable to others, into whose hands they may fall ! 
 
 I greatly rejoice in the goodness of God to you, in setting over you such able and faithful shepherds, 
 as those worthy ministers of Christ, under whose care you now are ; and I heartily pray, that you and 
 they may long be spared, as comforts to each other, and as blessings to the church. Though I am provi- 
 dentially separated from you, may I still hear that you walk worthy of the Lord ; and may every advanc- 
 ing year and revolving day of life, ripen us more for that happiness, which we hope ere long to share 
 with each other, in the house of our heavenly Father! 
 
 If any of you, who were once my care and my hope, have now forsaken the ways and the (Jod of your 
 fathers, and turned aside to the paths of licentiousness and folly, I now repeat the admonitions which I 
 have formerly given you, that these things will, to you above all others, be bitterness in the end. And I 
 entreat you, that if you iiave any little regard still remaining, for one to whom some of you have pro- 
 fessed not a little, you would at least attentively peruse the sixth of these discourses, as containing 
 reflections, which must, sooner or later, pierce your hearts with penitential remorse, or everlasting 
 despair. O that divine grace might concur with it to prevent your ruin, and might give me to see you 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 as wise, as rcli-^ious, anil as happy, as those excolloiit parents once wished yon, whose eyes arc now 
 elosed in the dust ; whose preeepts and exani|)!es, eharf!;cs and tears, you seem lonj^ since to have forgotten ! 
 
 As for you, my dear friends, here at home, I have tlie pK^^surc of conversing so often witli you, that it 
 is the less necessary now to address you at larfje. Yet it is hut justice to you thus publicly to declare, 
 that, amidst all that sfoodnes's and mercy which has followed me -all my days, there is no providence 
 which I njorc jfratcfully own, than that which brought me hither; nor does any thing contribute more to 
 make my ministry liere comfortable, than the spirit of seriousness which discovers itself in many young 
 persons amongst us. O that it were as universal, as in some it is amiable and exemplary ! Permit 
 me to remind you, that, as your remarkable importunity was the consideration, which turned the scales 
 for my coming hither, after they had long havered in uncertainty, so you are under some peculiar 
 obligations to study the ease and comfort of my life, which you can never so cfl'ectually secure, as by the 
 holy regularity of your own. Our aged friends are dropping away apace ; nay, the gr.ives have swallowed 
 up many, very many, of your own age, who, but a few months ago, promised long and extensive useful- 
 ness here It is you that are to comfort me under these sorrows. I can solenmly say, that I had much 
 rather be numbered amongst them, than live to sec the glory of practical religion lost in this society, 
 wliile it is under my care. Kemember that, under God, you are its support ; and remember, that the 
 high hopes you have given me, would make a disappointment sit so much the heavier upon my heart. 
 
 liut I will not conclude with any thing so uncomfortable, as the mention of a disappointment f; om you ; 
 but rather with recommending you, and those to whom I have formerly stood in the like relation, to the 
 care of Christ, the great Sheplierd of the sheep, and to the iniluence of tliat gracious Spirit, who can cause 
 you to grow in knowledge and piety like the grass, and like willows by the water-courses. A generous 
 friend* is intending some of you a present of that course of sermons, which I am now preaching on the 
 power and grace of Christ, and the evidences oi his glorious gospel ; and it much sweetens the labour of 
 preparing them for the press, to reflect, that they are in part intended for your service. I hope you will 
 not forget to pray for all that appear concerned for your spiritual edification, and eternal happiness, 
 and more especially for 
 
 Your most affectionate and faithful friend and servant, 
 Northampton, December 30th, 1734. P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 THE nirORTANCE OF THE KISING GENERATION. 
 
 Psalm xxii. 30, 31. 
 
 A seed shall serve him ; it shall he accounted to the 
 Lord for a generation. They shall come, and shall 
 declare his rii/hteousncss to a people that shall he 
 horn, that he hath done this. 
 
 It is a very beautiful saying of an ancient Jewish 
 writer,! w hich has its parallel amongst some of the 
 finest of the heathen poets, J that " as of the green 
 leaves on a thick tree, some fall, and others grow ; 
 so of the generations of flesh and blood, one cometh 
 to an end, and another is born." In this respect the 
 resemblance is obvious ; but there is another, in 
 which it will not always so evidently hold. We 
 perceive not any remarkable difference between the 
 leaves of one year and of another : they which open 
 at the return of the spring, are commonly as large 
 and fair as those which the preceding winter had 
 destroyed. But it has been matter of long lamenta- 
 tion, that the children of men are continually sink- 
 
 * Wm. Cowaril, Esq. + Eccliis. xiv. 18. 
 
 t Homer. Ili.id. f. vir. I4G-I49. ip. ver. 463—107. Mus. :ipu(l Ckm. 
 .\l< x, Strom, lilj. vi. 
 
 ing into deeper and deeper degeneracy. Solomon 
 denies not that the former days were better than the 
 present, when he cautions against too curious an 
 inquiry into the reasons why such an alteration vas 
 permitted : and those who know little else of the 
 most celebrated writers of antiquity, can quote their 
 complaints on this melancholy occasion. They can 
 tell you that Homer§ observed, " that children are 
 seldom better, but frequently worse, than their 
 parents ;" and they often repeat that lively and 
 comprehensive acknowledgment of Horace : 1| " Our 
 fathers, who fell short of the virtues of their ances- 
 tors, have produced us a generation worse than 
 themselves; and our children will be yet more de- 
 generate than we." 
 
 These complaints and forebodings have been bor- 
 rowed by every age since they were published, and 
 are to this day borrowed by us, as what we imagine 
 more applicable to ourselves than to those who 
 wrote them, or to any who have already cited them. 
 I will not say there is universal cause for such au 
 application ; but I am sure the face of aifairs in 
 many families, and may I not add, in many churches 
 
 5 tlavfiot yap TOt naiiet o^otoi ■JTarpt 7rc\uvrait 
 Ot wAcover KOKtouv, -navfioi dc tc narpot apetovr- 
 
 Homer. Odys. (i. 276, 277. 
 II /Etas parentum pejor avis tulit 
 Nos nequiorcs, mox daturos , 
 Proijenicm viliosiorotn. 
 
 Hnral. lib. iii. od, vi. vcr. 46, S:c. 
 
TO THE 
 
 too, is abundantly sufficient not only to excuse, but 
 to vindicate it. 
 
 In the midst of this mournful survey, the heart of 
 every pious Israelite will tremble for the ark of the 
 Lord, and he will be ready to say, perhaps with an 
 excess of solicitude and of anguish, " What will 
 the end of these things be ? Surely God w ill ut- 
 terly abandon those who so basely desert him in 
 contempt of the clearest revelation of liis gospel, 
 and the most engaging or awakening calls of his 
 providence. The very memory of religion will at 
 length be lost ; and when the Son of man cometh he 
 will not find faith on the earth." 
 
 Now there seems to be something in the very 
 sound of the text which may relieve our minds 
 under these gloomy apprehensions. A seed shall 
 •Serve him, it shall be accounted to the Lord for a 
 generation : they shall come and declare his name 
 to a third succession ; a people who shall be born 
 of them. Here is an evident promise or prediction, 
 that the knowledge and the fear of God should be 
 propagated from one age and generation to apother : 
 and this must be an agreeable assurance, whatever 
 the particular occasion were on which it was intro- 
 duced. Were this psalm to be considered only as 
 relating to the calamities of David, and the won- 
 derful deliverance which God wrought out for him, 
 the words before us might be improved for our own 
 consolation on the justest principles of analogy; 
 for if a temporal salvation granted to him were to 
 make so deep and so lasting an impression on 
 distant nations, and on future ages, how reasonably 
 might the like clleets be expected from that in- 
 finitely more important and extensive salvation, 
 which is exhibited to us in the everlasting gospel ? 
 
 But after all, the application of this passage of 
 scripture to the purposes for which I have alleged 
 it, does not depend on so long a train of conse- 
 quences ; for if we attentively peruse this psalm, and 
 diligently survey the distress and glory w hich are de- 
 scribed in the several parts of it, we must be obliged 
 to Confess, that a greater than David is here. It 
 contains a most lively and sublime propliccy of the 
 sufferings of the Messiah, and the exaltation with 
 which they were to be rewarded ;* and particularly 
 mentions the railing of the Gentiles in his church, 
 and the propagation of his religion to future ages.f 
 All the ends of the world shall remember and turn 
 unto the Lord ; and all the kindreds of the nations 
 shall worship before thee ; all they who are fat 
 upon the earth, i. e. (by a usual Hebraism) persons 
 of eminent rank and in plentiful circumstances,]: 
 shall eat and worship, i. e. they shall pay their 
 public homage to him, and enter themselves 
 solemnly into his covenant, as the Jewish vOta- 
 
 * See p.irtii nlarly, ver. 7, U, 16, IR, 27, et serj. + Vcr 27—31 
 t See Ixxviii. 31. Isa. x. 16. Psal. xvii. 10. and compare Psal 
 
 xlv. 12. Ixxii. Id, II. Isa. Ix. 3, .5, 10, 13. Rev. xxi. 24. all w|,jch texts 
 speak of the submission of princes and great men to Cliri.<l. 
 
 2 p 2 
 
 YOUNG. 579 
 
 ries did by eating of the sacrifices which were 
 ofTered to him : and, on the other hand, those that 
 go down to the dust, i. c. who are in the most in- 
 digent circumstances, shall bow before him, ^ even 
 he that cannot keep alive his own soul,|| who is so 
 poor that he wants the necessaries of life ; as if it 
 had been said, there shall be a universal submission 
 to him, in which the greatest and meanest shall 
 concur. And the text assures us, that his triumphs 
 shall be as lasting, as extensive : A future seed shall 
 serve him ; they shall be accounted to the Lord for 
 a generation ; i. e. being brought to the knowledge 
 and the profession of tlie true religion, they shall 
 be owned by God as his people : and it shall he 
 their pious care, to declare this glorious display of 
 liis righteousness IT to a people who shall be born of 
 tliem, that he has done this ; that it is the hand of 
 God which has wrought out this great salvation. 
 And though there are not many generations men- 
 tioned here, yet other scriptures assure us, tliat the 
 kingdom of the Messiah is to be of perpetual 
 duration, and consequently that such promises as 
 these are to be taken in their utmost extent. In 
 his days shall the righteous flourish, and abundance 
 of peace, so long as the moon endurcth : his name 
 shall endure for ever ; his name shall be continued 
 as long as the sun ; and men shall be blessed in him. 
 
 Upon the whole, then, it appears, that the words 
 of the text are a prophecy, that the kingdom of 
 Christ shall be perpetual, and extend itself to the 
 latest generations, as w ell as the remotest climates : 
 and, through the divine goodness, we must acknow- 
 ledge, that this day is this scripture in part fulfilled 
 among us. We dwell in a country whicli, with 
 regard to .ludea, lay at the ends of the earth, and* 
 which was long overrun with barbarity and idol- 
 atry ; yet we are now instructed in the know ledge 
 of the God of Israel, and are this day assembled 
 for his worship ; so that at the distance of more 
 than two thousand year.s from the publication of 
 this prediction, we arc the living witnesses of its 
 truth ; being ourselves a seed who profess to serve 
 the Lord, and accounted to him for a generation. 
 
 I hope it is the concern of many of us, that the 
 concluding words may be fulfilled in those who 
 come after us; that his gospel righteousness may 
 so be declared to them, that they likewise might bo 
 engaged to serve the Lord, not only in the external 
 
 } Compare Isa. xxvi. 19. Neh. iii. 18. 1 Sam. ii. 8. 
 
 II So the French translate this clause, Mi^mcs celui qui ne pent 
 {^arenlir s-i vie ■. and so several famous commentators explain it, par- 
 ticularly Rivetns ; Famelici, (|iii non habent quo vitam sustlncaut. 
 'I'lius also Huchanan paraphrases on the words, 
 
 Flectet illi popliteni 
 
 Pauper sepult hri in limine 
 
 Qui membra fessis arlubus latip;aeiitia 
 
 Fugiente vita vix Irahil. 
 
 It is certain the phrase here translated, " keep alive the soul," is 
 often M'vd for the preservation of the animal life; Gen. xi*. 19. 
 I Kin;;s XX. 31. Ezek. 13. lU. And the " meat " which was purrh,m'<l 
 at .so expensive a rate at the siege of Jerusalem, is said to " relieve," or 
 restore, the .soul, Lam. i. II. 
 
 If Compare lloni. iii. 25, 26. 
 
580 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 fiMins (if tlic true religion, l)ut w ilh the alTcctions of 
 the lu'arl, and the ohedience of the life. 
 
 That this concern iimj be more deep, more active, 
 and more universal, it will be the business of my 
 present discourse, to represent to you at larpe the 
 iniportance of the rising' generation. And here I 
 would aim, not merely at the demonstration of a 
 speculative trutli, which may leave your minds as 
 cold and as irregular as it found them ; but I would 
 labour, by the divine assistance, to possess you 
 with such a sense of the case, as may have a power- 
 ful influence on your temper and behaviour; that 
 so our meditations on this excellent promise may, 
 through the concurrence of God, be the means of 
 its more complete accomplishment. 
 
 I am now particularly concerned, that you, my 
 younger brethren, may be impressed with what I 
 say : I shall therefore address myself directly to 
 you, and endeavour to show how important and 
 desirable it is, that you be early tinctured with a 
 sense of religion, and heartily engaged in the 
 service of God. 
 
 May the Spirit of God, in the mean time, so speak 
 to your hearts, as that life and energy might be 
 added to those convictions which, I am conlident, 
 your reason will not be able to oppose ! 
 
 Now I would entreat you, on this occasion, 
 seriously to consider the importance of your cha- 
 racter and behaviour, with regard both to your- 
 selves and others. 
 
 1. Nothing can be of greater importance, with 
 regard to yourselves, thau your being early engaged 
 in the service of God. 
 
 It is a consideration, which equally concerns 
 »you, and others of a more advanced age, that reli- 
 gion is, generally speaking, the surest way we can 
 take to be happy in this world, and, through the 
 merits and righteousness of a Redeemer, the only 
 way to glory in another ; so that, as the apostle 
 expresses it, godliness is profitable unto all things, 
 liaviug promise of the life that now is, and of that 
 which is to come. 
 
 Its tendency to promote our present comfort and 
 happiness, will abundantly appear from the in- 
 fluence it has on our external circumstances, and 
 on the temper of our minds. As to the former of 
 these, I might enlarge on its beneficial effects, with 
 regard to health and reputation, estate and friend- 
 ship ; and as to the latter, nothing is more obvious 
 than that it tends to secure tlie tranquillity and the 
 pleasure of the soul, as it either suppresses or 
 moderates, those turbulent passions which throw it 
 into anguish and confusion, while it gives aliundant 
 exercise to those which are most sweet and delight- 
 ful. Such is the immediate blessedness of the man 
 who feareth the Lord, and delighteth greatly in 
 his commandments. And whosoever reflects on 
 the evidence with which each of tlie^c partieulpTS 
 
 is attended, must acknowledge, that the ways of 
 wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths 
 are peace. 
 
 To complete the argument, it is to be considered, 
 that these pleasant and peaceful paths lead up to the 
 paradise of God ; for invariable truth and goodness 
 has cng-aged, that to them who, by patient con- 
 tinuance in well doing, seek for glory, honour, and 
 innnortality, he will render eternal life. 
 
 On the other hand, if you go on in the neglect of 
 God and religion, it is very possible you may be 
 undone for this world, as thousands have been, by 
 debauchery and folly : or, under some restraints of 
 common prudence, which may secure you from 
 that, if you do not violently overbear the voice of 
 conscience, it will often disquiet and torment you 
 by its remonstrances and expostulations ; till in a 
 little time death will remove you to the seats of 
 horror, where the worm never dies, and the fire is 
 never quenched. For God has solemnly declared, 
 that he will render indignation and wrath, tribu- 
 lation and anguish, to every soul of man that doeth 
 evil ; when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven 
 in flaming fire, taking vengeance on those that 
 know not God, and obey not the gospel. 
 
 Are not the youngest of you concerned in such 
 declarations as these ? And if you are, let con- 
 science say, whether they are to be despised? It 
 evidently appears the question is this : Shall you 
 spend your days upon earth like rational creatures, 
 in the noblest enjoyment of God and of yourselves, 
 till you rise to the glories and pleasures of the 
 heavenly world ? or shall you live like idiots and 
 like brutes, in the amusements of a vain imagina- 
 tion, and the indulgence of the meanest appetites, 
 till you sink for ever under all the shame and 
 remorse of a polluted guilty mind, and the almighty 
 vengeance of an incensed God ? And can you be so 
 stupid as to imagine this question will bear a 
 debate, or that any of the little interests of time 
 and sense are to be regarded, while these things 
 are forgotten ? Surely I may say, with the utmost 
 propriety, as Moses to the children of Israel, I have 
 this day been setting before you life and death, a 
 blessing and a curse, choose which shall be your 
 portion ; but make the choice as those that remem- 
 ber, it is not a vain thing for you, because it is 
 your life. 
 
 " It is true," may you perhaps reply in your own 
 minds, " these are solid arguments to prove, that 
 religion is to be attended to, sooner or later ; but it 
 will not appear from tbem that it is peculiarly the 
 concern of the rising generation." I answer, (as 
 you have often heard me at large,) If it is to be 
 re^rded at all it should be regarded immediately ; 
 because all the futurity you presume upon is utterly 
 precarious. The uncertainty of human life, and 
 our entire dependence on that sacred Spirit, who is 
 
TO THE 
 
 perfectly free in all his operations, concur to de- 
 monstrate, beyond all possibility of contradiction, 
 the madness of delay ; and the ruin of thousands 
 bears testimony to it. I might add, that there are 
 many peculiar advantages of early piety which 
 render it vastly preferable to a late repentance, 
 even supposing it were as certain as it is dubious : 
 but I shall not enter into the enumeration of them 
 now, since I intend them for the subject of a dis- 
 tinct discourse.* What I have already said may 
 be sufficient to convince you, if you allow yourselves 
 to reflect, that your own present and future happi- 
 ness is apparently concerned in the case before us. 
 I add, 
 
 II. That it is of great importance to the happi- 
 ness of others, that j'ou of the rising generation be 
 early tinctured with a sense of religion, or, in the 
 language of the text, be a seed who shall serve the 
 Lord. 
 
 And here I would show at large, — that the hap- 
 piness of all who converse with you may be 
 considerably influenced by your character and 
 behaviour ; — that the comfort of your pious parents 
 and ministers is peculiarly concerned in it ; — and 
 that the propagation of religion to them who are 
 yet unborn, does, under God, most evidently depend 
 upon you. 
 
 1. The happiness of all who converse with you 
 will be considerably influenced by your character 
 and behaviour. 
 
 They who have any sense of religion themselves 
 will be tenderly concerned for your happiness. 
 They will rejoice to see you going on in those ways 
 which must certainly lead to it ; and they will be 
 heartily grieved to see you choosing your own 
 misery, and rejecting the counsel of God againsi 
 yourselves. And others of a humane and generous 
 temper, though destitute of the principles of true 
 piety, will be solicitous for the honour, the com- 
 fort, and the usefulness of your lives. 
 - But besides this pleasure or uneasiness which 
 will redound to such persons in consequence of 
 these friendly and benevolent sentiments, you 
 ought to consider, that all who converse with you 
 may find their happiness increased or diminished, 
 by your regard to religion, or your neglect of it, as 
 your behaviour to them will be influenced by it. 
 
 If you be early delivered into the mould of the 
 gospel, you will quickly learn that you were n(/t 
 born for yourselves. The mercies of God, and the 
 example of a Redeemer, will teach you to exert 
 yourselves to the utmost for the service of mankind, 
 and to do good to all as you have opportunity. 
 And in how many instances may your pious and 
 
 * Mr. Jennings's excellent sermon on this suliject, amongst his 
 other discourses to young people, lias prevented Ihe pulilication of the 
 sermon here referred to, I hope my young friends will furnish them, 
 selves with those condescending and useful pieces, if there he any of 
 them that have not yet done it. 
 
 YOUNG. 68t 
 
 charitable cares be effectual for the benefit of your 
 fellow-creatures ! In the series of life how many in 
 tlie depths of poverty may be relieved by your 
 liberality ! How many in perplexed and intricate 
 circumstances may be guided aright by your pru- 
 dent counsel ! How many weeping eyes may be 
 dried, and how many mourning hearts revived, by 
 your tender sympathy and friendly condolence ! 
 And if there be already in your natural temper a 
 tendency towards such expressions of humanity, 
 how happily may it be directed and enlivened, 
 when divine and evangelical motives are brought in 
 to its assistance ! 
 
 But further, your Christian charity will teach you 
 to be, above all things, solicitous fbr the spiritual 
 and eternal happiness of those about you. And 
 who can say, how much you may promote it ! How 
 many more aged Chiistians may be excited to shake 
 off their indolence, and quicken thtir pace when 
 they observe your ardency and zeal ! And how 
 happily might your piety tend to awaken, and 
 reclaim those, who are going on in the paths of the 
 destroyer : how amiable w ould the graces of Chris- 
 tianity appear, as exemplified in you, amidst all the 
 insnaring allurements of childhood and youth ! 
 And how affecting might it be to otheryoung people, 
 to hear religion recommended to thenj, not only by 
 their parents and ministers, but by their brethren 
 and companions ! 
 
 Thus useful might you be in your earliest years, 
 and as you were advancing in age and experience, 
 your u.sefulness might be daily increasing : and if 
 God should spare you to the decline of life, you 
 might bring forth much nobler fruits in old age, 
 than you could have done, if your entrance on a 
 religious life had been deferred to that unseason- 
 able time. 
 
 Thus may the whole period of your life be filled 
 up with eminent service. And I will add, that 
 your beneficial infiuence may extend far beyond 
 the circle of your personal converse : you may be 
 blessings to your country, indeed to the whole 
 world, by drawing down the favour of God upon it, 
 in part, as a crown of your piety, and an answer to 
 your prayers. But, 
 
 On the contrary, if you neglect religion, you will 
 deprive the world of all those benefits, which it may 
 otherwise expect from you. If you are naturally 
 covetous, you will probably indulge that unworthy 
 temper, so as to withhold relief from those to whom 
 it is most justly due : or if you be of a liberal dis- 
 position, your generosity will degenerate into pro- 
 digality ; or perhaps you will squander away so 
 much of your estates in vanity and debauchery, as 
 to throw yourselves out of a capacity of assisting 
 those, whom you most sincerely pity, and would 
 gladly relieve. And as to the eternal happiness of 
 others, it is not to be imagined that you will have 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 aii> reg.Tiil to it while you are negligent of joiir 
 own. 
 
 Nor is this titc worst ; for, as hardlj' any are mere 
 ciphers in life, it is much to be feared, that instead 
 of biessinsfs you may prove mischiefs to the world. 
 The licentiousness to which corrupt nature will 
 prompt you, may lead you by unthouf;hl-of cou- 
 se(iuenccs, to injure and defraud, as well as to 
 grieve and torment, others. And where your beha- 
 viour is most friendly, it may be most pernicious. 
 Instead of restoring and reclaiming the souls of 
 your companions, you may pervert and destroy 
 them by sinful discourses and impious examples. 
 Thus you may draw down the vengeance of God on 
 the places where you live, and provoke him to send 
 some public calamity, as u punishment, for that 
 universal degeneracy which you have abetted. So 
 that (to close the melancholy scene) at the bar of 
 God, and in the seats of torment, you may meet 
 with multitudes of unhappy creatures, who will cry 
 out on you, as the fatal cause of their ruin in this 
 world, and their condemnation in that. 
 
 By such a variety of arguments does it appear, 
 that the happiness of those you converse with will 
 be considerably influenced by your temper and 
 conduct. And are you so utterly lost to all senti- 
 ments of honour and goodness, as to be uncon- 
 cerned at such a consideration as this ? Again, 
 
 2. The comfort and happiness of your religious 
 parents does, in a great measure, depend on your 
 seriousness and piety. 
 
 What I have just been saying on the former 
 heads, will evidently prove the truth of this ob- 
 servation. Your pious parents have a generous 
 concern for the happiness of others, and this will 
 engage them earnestly to wish, that you may be 
 blessings, and not curses, to the world about you. 
 And their peculiar affection for you must tenderly 
 interest them in a case, on which your happiness, 
 both in time and eternity, depends. 
 
 If they see you under the influences of early 
 piety, unknown pleasure will arise in their minds: 
 they will rejoice in it, not merely as it will be a 
 security to them of a respectful and grateful treat- 
 ment from you ; but as it will, through grace, secure 
 to you, their dear offspring, the entertainments of 
 a religious life, and the prospects of a glorious im- 
 mortality. 
 
 These reflections will give them inexpressible 
 pleasure in a variety of circumstances. Their daily 
 converse with you will be more agreeable to them 
 than it could otherwise be, when they discern the 
 lively impressions of religion upon your spirits, 
 and perceive that you have a relish for tho.sc truiths 
 and promises of the gospel, which are their joy 
 and song in the house of their pilgrimage. It will 
 sometimes add a sweetness to the social exercises 
 of devotion, to think that your souls are engaged 
 
 with theirs, and regaled with the same sublime and 
 transporting cntcrtainracnls. And v\hen they have 
 reason to apprehend that you arc retired for the 
 duties of the closet, it will cheer their hearts to 
 think, " Now is my child with his heavenly Father. 
 Now has he separated himself from those vain 
 amusements, w hich most of the same age pursue, 
 that he may converse with Cod and his own soul, 
 and be prepared for the business and the pleasures 
 of heaven. And I hope, God is smiling upon him, 
 and teaching him, by happy experience, that those 
 pious labours are not in vain." 
 
 With such consolations will their hearts be sup- 
 ported in all the occurrences, which Providence 
 may allot, either to you or them. If they meet 
 with prosperity in their worldly all'airs, and have a 
 prospect of leaving you in plentiful circumstances, 
 it will be a satisfaction to tlicra to think, that they 
 shall not consign their estates to those who will 
 meanly hoard up the income of them, or throw it 
 away in foolish and hurtful lusts ; but to persons 
 who will consider themselves as the stewards of 
 God, and will endeavour to use what he has given 
 to them for the honour of their Lord, and the good 
 of mankind. Or, if they can give you but little, this 
 thought will relieve them, that they commend you 
 to the care of a Guardian and a Father, who is able 
 abundantly to supply your necessities, and who 
 has engaged, by the promises of his covenant, that 
 those who fear him shall want no good thing. 
 They will have the pleasure to think, that, how 
 low soever your outward condition may be, you 
 will be rich in grace, and in the entertainments of 
 religion now, and in the glories of the heavenly 
 inheritance at last. When they are themselves 
 sinking under the decays of nature, their vigour 
 and cheerfulness will be renewed in yours : or 
 should yours be impaired by an afflictive provi- 
 dence, they w ill have the satisfaction of believing, 
 that those afflictions proceed from a divine love, 
 and shall at length turn to your advantage. It 
 will revive their hearts in their dying moments to 
 think, that when they are sleeping in the dust, you 
 will stand up in their places, and support the in- 
 terest of God in the world, with a fidelity and zeal 
 perhaps superior to theirs. Or if an afflictive stroke 
 should take you away before them, they will not 
 mourn over your grave as those that have no hope. 
 Faith w ill teach them to mingle praises with their 
 tears, while it assures them, that though dead to 
 them, you are living with God in glory; that you 
 are preferred to an attendance on his throne above, 
 where they may hope shortly to meet you on the 
 most advantageous terms. 
 
 This is but a faint and imperfect description of 
 the satisfaction which your parents would find in 
 your early piety. And it follows from hence, as a 
 necessary consequence, that if they see you grow 
 
TO THE 
 
 up in the neglect of religion, it will pierce their 
 hearts with proportionable sorrow. 
 
 It is possible- that you may arrive at such a daring 
 degree of wickedness, as to treat them with negli- 
 gence and contempt, or perhaps to answer all their 
 melting expostulations with insults and rage. Such 
 ungrateful and rebellious monsters we have heard 
 of ; and would to God that every parent in this as- 
 sembly could say that he had only heard of them ! 
 But should you preserve some sense of humanity 
 and decency ; nay, should you behave towards them 
 in the most dutiful and obliging manner, yet they 
 must still mourn over you ; and even your tender- 
 ness and complaisance to them would sometimes 
 come in to add a more sensible anguish to their 
 affliction. It would cut them to the heart to think 
 that such dear, and in other respects amiable, chil- 
 dren, were still the enemies of God, and the heirs 
 of destruction. When they heard the vengeance 
 of God denounced against sinners, and read the 
 awful threatenings of his word, they would tremble 
 to think that those terrible thunders were levelled 
 against you. How little could they rejoice in that 
 health or plenty which they saw you were abusing 
 to your aggravated ruin ! And how would they be 
 terrified, when any distemper seized you, lest it 
 should be the messenger to bear you away to eter- 
 nal misery ! If they were themselves dying, how 
 mournfully must they take their leave of you, in an 
 apprehension of seeing you no more till the day of 
 accounts, and seeing you then in ignominy and 
 iiorror at the left band of the Judge ! Or if they 
 saw you removed by an early death, to what hope- 
 less soiTOws would they be abandoned ! With what 
 unknown agonies would they adopt that pathetic 
 lamentation of David, O my son Absalom, my son, 
 my son Absalom, would to God I had died for thee ! 
 O Absalom, my son, my son ! 
 
 By such a variety of considerations does it ap- 
 pear, that the comfort and happiness of your pious 
 parents dots very much depend upon your temper 
 and behaviour. And the argument is confirmed by 
 the repeated testimony of the wisest of men, under 
 the influences of the divine Spirit. He tells us 
 again and again, that a wise son maketh a glad 
 father ; that whoso loveth wisdom rejoiceth his 
 father ; and that the father of the righteous shall 
 greatly rejoice ; and he that bcgetteth a wise child 
 shall have joy of him. On the other hand, he tells 
 us, that a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. 
 And though the tenderness of her sex may make the 
 mother peculiarly sensible of the aflliction, yet it is 
 not confined to her ; for he tells us el.sewhere, that 
 a foolish son is a grief to his father, as well as bit- 
 terness to her that bare him ; yea, a foolish son is 
 the calamity of his father. And once more, he that 
 begettef h a fool does it to his sorrow ; and the father 
 of a fool has no joy ; for the wickedness of his 
 
 YOUNG. 583 
 
 son impairs his relish for the other enjoyments of 
 life. 
 
 Such a multitude of passages to the same pur- 
 pose, seem intended to teach us the importance, as 
 well as the certainty, of the argument. And it is 
 more than hinted at in those remarkable words, My 
 son, if thy heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, 
 even mine.* As if he had said, make a serious 
 pause, and diligently weigh the importance of that 
 thought, that thy piety will be an inexpressible joy 
 to mc, thy father. And then, as if that were not 
 enough, it is immediately added, Yea, my reins also 
 shall rejoice (shall feel unutterable pleasure dif- 
 fusing itself through all the secret recesses of my 
 soul) when thy lips speak right things, which may 
 manifest a heart under the influence of prudence 
 and of religion. 
 
 And let me entreat you, my friends, to reflect for 
 a few moments on the weight of tlie argument, tba( 
 you may judge whether it will not bear all the stress 
 which Solomon lays upon it. The happiness of 
 your parents is in question ; and can you slight 
 that? Consider how much you owe to your parents, 
 as they were the instruments of your being, and 
 have been, under God, the principal support of it. 
 Think of the tenderness with which they watched 
 around your cradles, and of the many kind offices 
 which they performed for you in your helpless in- 
 fancy ; which parental tenderness made delightful 
 to them, when hardly any thing else could have 
 made them tolerable. Think how liberally they 
 have long contributed towards the siipply of your 
 wants ; and in how many instances they have denied 
 themselves that they might gratify you. Think how 
 they have rejoiced with you in your joys, and 
 mourned with you in your sorrows ; how they have 
 been terrified at your real dangers, and perhaps often 
 disquieted with those timorous apprehensions which 
 fondness rather than reason has suggested to them. 
 And under the impression of su(;h reflections, say, 
 whether it may not reasonably be expected that 
 you should have a most afTcctionatc regard to their 
 repose and comfort, and think with horror of becom- 
 ing their grief and their torment. 
 
 I may add, that as the parents of some amongst 
 you are declining under the infirmities of age, and 
 on that account the objects of a respectful compas- 
 sion to all, they should be so especially to you who 
 are their children ; for it may be, these infirmities 
 have been hastened upon them by an excess of ten- 
 derness and concern for you. And will you add 
 afllictions to the afflicted, and bring down with sor- 
 row to the grave those venerable hoary heads, 
 which you have perhaps made gray before their 
 time? Surely you must abhor the thought, or God 
 and man must abhor you. 
 
 * Prov. xxiii. 15. See the like emphatical form of speaking, ver. 
 24, 25. 
 
581 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Hut I would not entertain so harsh a suspicion. 
 I t'haritalily hope, that you are not only impressed 
 with tliis consideration, but will likewise be some- 
 what concerned, when you hear, 
 
 3. That the comfort and happiness of faithful 
 ministers will be p;reatiy alfected by the character of 
 the risin:; generation. 
 
 St. John assures the elect lady, tliat he rejoiced 
 greatly when he found her children w alking in the 
 trutli ; and a variety of arguments concur to prove, 
 that no pious minister can be indifferent in the case 
 before us. 
 
 If w e have any thing of humanity and generosity 
 in our tempers, we must be concerned for your 
 seriousness, on account of that influence which it has 
 on the happiness of all about you, and particularly 
 on that of your Christian parents. Many of tliem 
 are the ornaments and glory of our assemblies, and 
 the most dear and intimate of our friends ; w e are 
 obliged therefore to take part with them in their 
 sorrows and their joys, with relation to you their 
 children. It must sensibly afflict us to see, that 
 while their w isdom and their piety might command 
 the reverence and the love of all that know them, 
 enemies should arise up against them out of their 
 own houses, and even the children of their bowels 
 should prove their tormentors. Those dear chil- 
 dren, from whom they fondly promised themselves 
 the delight and support of their declining years. 
 And when they come and tell us the tender story, 
 when they freely open to us their sorrows and their 
 fears on your account, and earnestly beg our pray- 
 ers for you, that whatever they suffer, you may not 
 be for ever undone, we are hardly able to stand it ; 
 but nature, as well as religion, teaches us to echo 
 back their sighs, and to return their tears. 
 
 Thus we are concerned for the rising generation, 
 as we sympathize with those whose happiness is ap- 
 parently affected by it: but besides this, you may 
 easily apprehend, that much of the comfort of our 
 lives does immediately depend upon it. And this 
 will be peculiarly obvious with regard to those of 
 us who are in our younger years, and are entering 
 on the work of God amongst you.* 
 
 Should God spare us to future years, we must 
 expect to survive many of our aged friends; and 
 when your parents are gone, whither mu.st we look 
 for the comfort of our remaining days, but to you 
 their children ? And must it not wound us to the 
 heart, to see a generation of vipers rising up, in- 
 stead of those pious friends, witli whom we have 
 taken sweet counsel together, and gone to the 
 house of God in company? Can we easily bear to 
 see the temples and altars of God forsaken, or to 
 see them attended only by ivretched hypocrites, who 
 bear the form of godliness, w hile tlicy are strangers 
 
 ♦ Tills was the cast of the author wheo this Krmon was preached at 
 Kibworlh, May 18, 1724. 
 
 and enemies to the power of it? Must we lose the 
 pleasure of addressing you in pul)lic, as true Chris- 
 tians, on the most comfortable and joyful subjects of 
 discourse ; and be obliged continually to speak to you 
 in thunders, as those w ho have no right to the con- 
 solations of the gospel ? Or must we never have the 
 satisfaction of conversing with you in private, as 
 our brethren in the Lord, and our companions in 
 the way to heaven ? 
 
 Well might it grieve us to be thus left alone in the 
 midst of a degenerate world ; especially when we 
 reflect, that the cause of God was sinking in the 
 time of our administration, and serious religion was 
 lost amongst us, whilst the cultivation of it was 
 committed to our care. Shall we not be suspected 
 of unfaithfulness to God, and to you, if it die in 
 our hands ? That were dreadful indeed. May the 
 divine grace preserve us from that guilt ! And I 
 trust, my brethren, that it will preserve us ; and, in 
 dependence upon that, I plainly tell you, that ' 
 while God continues us in a capacity of doing it, > 
 we will honestly warn you, we will seriously ex- 
 postulate with you, we will earnestly pray for you ; 
 and if it be all in vain, we will appeal to an om- 
 niscient God, that your destruction is not chargeable 
 upon us, but upon yourselves. 
 
 But in the mean time, it would be dreadful to 
 reflect, that while we are thus endeavouring to de- 
 liver our own souls, we are in effect heaping 
 aggravated damnation on yours ; while every at- 
 tempt is resisted by you, and so brings you under a 
 greater load of guilt. You may indeed be insensi- 
 ble of the load now, but we foresee the day when 
 you will sink under it. And here is the accent of 
 our sorrow : in such views as these wc fear, that 
 when the ministers of former generations shall ap- 
 pear before their Judge with a train of happy souls, 
 which have been conducted to heaven by their 
 means, it must be our melancholy part to stand out 
 as witnesses against our hearers, that we have 
 stretched out our hands all the day long to a disobe- 
 dient and gainsaying people. Oh, how shall we be 
 able to advance this dreadful testimony against the 
 children of our dearest friends, against those whom 
 we tenderly loved, and whose salvation we would 
 have purchased with any thing but our own ! Yet 
 this is our prospect with regard to you ; and we 
 may leave it to you to judge, whether it must not 
 sadden our souls. 
 
 Now pardon me, my friends, if I tell you, that we 
 may reasonably expect, that an argument of this 
 nature shou!-d not be despised. I hope it is no 
 breach of modesty to say, that we have not de- 
 served so ill at your hands, as that our joy, or our 
 distress, should be indifl'erent to you. In all the 
 common affairs of life we would cheerfully serve 
 you to the utmost of our power, and therefore at 
 least reasonably expect to stand on a level with the 
 
TO THE 
 
 rest of your friends in like circumstances. And our 
 character as ministers, if we be careful to answer 
 it, gives us some peculiar claim to your regard. 
 For you wc give up many more splendid prospects in 
 life, wbich, in other employments, we mi^ht possibly 
 have secured ; for you we lay out our time and our 
 strength, in study, in prayer, and in preaching. 
 We bear you upon our hearts in our public minis- 
 trations, and our private retirements ; (and God is 
 witness with what sincerity ;) nor would we refuse 
 those laborious services which, in human proba- 
 bility, might hasten upon us the infirmities of age, 
 and the approach of death, if they might be the 
 happy means of your conversion and salvation. 
 And is this the reward of all our friendly care ? to 
 weaken our hands, to grieve our souls, and to be- 
 have in such a manner, that the more tenderly we 
 love you, the more deeply we must be afflicted by 
 you? 
 
 Many of you treat us with a great deal of hu- 
 manity and decency ; with the appearances of 
 afl'ection and esteem. You are ready to serve us 
 in the common offices of friendship, and would ex- 
 press your resentment if you saw us injured, in 
 actions, or in words. We thankfully acknowledge 
 5'our goodness in such instances as these ; but per- 
 mit us to ask you, why you will not be so kind 
 and so grateful to us, as to take care of your own 
 souls, when nothing could oblige us more than such 
 a care, and nothing can afflict us more than the 
 neglect of them ? Let me conclude this head with 
 those pathetic words of the apostle, If there be any 
 bowels and mercies, fulfil ye our joy. And let me 
 entreat you to consider, once more, 
 
 4. That the propagation of religion to future 
 generations does, under God, chiefly depend upon 
 you. 
 
 For this reason the pious Israelites arc represent- 
 ed as resolving to declare the wonderful works of 
 God unto their cliildren, that the generation to 
 come might know tliem, even the children tliat 
 should be born ; that they might arise, and, in flieir 
 turn, declare them unto their children, and so the 
 
 i entail might be carried on to the remotest ages. 
 
 I Now, my brethren, it is evident, that the propa- 
 gation of religion to succeeding generations does, 
 humanly speaking, depend on you and others, who, 
 with you, are entering upon life. If you are under 
 the influences of serious godliness, you will cany 
 them with you to the end of your days ; and when 
 God calls you into families of your own, it will be 
 your desire that you and your houses may serve 
 him. Family prayer and family instruction will 
 be maintained ; you will be teaching your children 
 to know the Lord, and exhorting them to .serve him, 
 and praying for a blessing on those endeavours : 
 and who knows wiiat a remarkable blessing may 
 attend them ? Your children, under the impression 
 
 YOUNG. 585 
 
 of such an education, may be eminent for religion 
 as you have been. They may be equally diligent 
 in the care of their posterity, and God may favour 
 them with equal success ; and so there may be 
 thousands of your remote descendants, who never 
 saw you, nor perhaps heard of yotir name, who 
 yet, under God, may owe their religion and their 
 happiness to you. The prospect of it may now 
 afford you sensible pleasure ; and it is highly pro- 
 bable, that when they meet you in the regions of 
 the invisible world, such an important obligation 
 may engage them to treat you with peculiar respect 
 and affection ; as surely all other obligations will 
 appear trifling, when compared with this. 
 
 On the other hand, if you neglect religion your- 
 selves, it cannot be thought jou will be much con- 
 cerned to transmit it to others. You would hardly 
 be at the pains to give them good instructions ; 
 supposing you much more capable of doing it than 
 you can expect to be : or if you do attempt it, those 
 instructions will be like to have little efl'eet, when 
 they arc contradicted by the daily language of your 
 example. Nay, it is possible you may arrive at 
 such a height of wickedness, as directly to oppose 
 practical godliness, and breed up your children in 
 the contempt of it ; which is often to be seen, even 
 in this Christian country. And what do you think 
 will become of such children as these ? If you have 
 been so wicked, notwithstanding all the restraints 
 of a serious education, what will they be, who miss 
 of the advantages you enjoyed, and must be ex- 
 posed to numberless temptations from which you 
 were free ? Shall these be a seed to serve the Lord ? 
 Shall these be accounted to him for a generation ? 
 It might almost as well be expected, that a race of 
 men should spring up in a desert, where no human 
 creature ever ajjpeared before them, as that true 
 Christianity should be propagated in the world by 
 the children of such an education. 
 
 And have you, after all, so utter an indifference 
 to the honour of that Redeemer, into whose religion 
 you were baptized, and whose name you bear, as 
 that you could be contented it should be lost in the 
 world ? Was it for this, that the Son of God de- 
 scended from heaven that he might publish the 
 gospel covenant, and expired on the cross that he 
 might establish it? Was it for this, that the pious 
 labours of our ancestors Iiave Iransmilted this reli- 
 gion to us through so many succeeding ages ; and 
 so many martyrs have sealed it by their sufferings, 
 and their blood ? Was it for this, that our sacred 
 liberties have been so courageously asserted by the 
 best of men, and almost miraculously defended by 
 the hand of God ? for this, that the precious en- 
 tail should be cut off' by us, and this invaluable 
 treasure, the charge and the glory of so many former 
 generations, should perish in our hands .' that the 
 name of Christianity should, for the future, be lost 
 
586 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 in tlie world ; or, wliich is altofjether as bad, tliat it 
 should sink, into an empty name, and a lifeless 
 circle of unmeaninjr forms ? Yet, humanly speak- 
 ing, this must be the consequence, if you, and 
 others of the rising generation, will not heartily 
 engage in the interests of it. 
 
 Such a variety of arguments concur to prove the 
 great importance of the rising generation. Tlicy 
 are so plain and so weighty, that I cannot but think, 
 that yoti, my brethren, to whom I have particularly 
 applied them, are in your consciences convinced, 
 that they are not to be disputed. 
 
 How that conviction should work, I have not 
 time largely to .show you ; but if it be seriously and 
 deeply impressed on your minds, you cannot long 
 be at a loss for proper directions, among so many 
 pious friends, and excellent books ; especially if 
 you consult the Scripture, and seek for the teach- 
 ings of the blessed Spirit. To these assistances I 
 heartily recommend you, and omitting many other 
 reflections which would naturally arise, shall con- 
 clude my discourse with one which I shall imme- 
 diately address to another part of my auditory. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 How solicitous should we be in our endeavours for 
 the religious improvement of the rising generation, 
 since its character appears of so great importance ! 
 
 We have all our concern in the thought, but I 
 would peculiarly recommend it to those of you who 
 are parents and masters, or have the education of 
 youth under any other capacities : imagine not, my 
 friends, that it is an inconsiderable charge which is 
 lodged in your hands. Providence has intrusted to 
 you the hopes and the fears, the joys and the sorrows, 
 of many hearts, and of many families ; future gene- 
 rations will have reason to applaud or detest your 
 memory, as your present duty is regarded or neg- 
 lected ; and, which is infinitely more, the Father of 
 the spirits of all flesh will require a strict account 
 of those precious souls wliich he committed to your 
 care. 
 
 It is not for me, at this time, to direct you at 
 large as to the particulars of your duty with regard 
 to them.* In the general, you will easily apprehend 
 that some methods are to be taken to inform their 
 minds with divine knowledge, and to impress them 
 with an affecting sense of what they know. And 
 if you find the work attended with great difTicuIty, 
 I hope it will engage you thankfully to accept of the 
 assistancesof ministers, and other Christian friends, 
 and earnestly to implore those communications of 
 the Spirit, which are absolutely necessary to make 
 them cfTectual. 
 
 » Som*'l!iir.g: of thi;* kind I havr attempted in tlio "Sernions on the 
 Rc'li;;ious Etluffition of CliiUlren i" liion;^!) I Iiav** tlicre lieen obli^^cd 
 to rx|irrs-i some thoughts which occur here, though in different words, 
 and in a dilTcrciit view. 
 
 And if God have any mercy in store for so sinful 
 a nation as ours, we may humbly liope, that, in 
 answer to our united supplications, he will revive 
 his work amongst us in the midst of the years : and, 
 according to the tenor of his promises, will pour 
 out his Spirit on our seed, and his blessing on our 
 offspring ; so that they may spring up before him 
 as tlie grass, and as willows by tlie water-courses : 
 and calling themselves l)y the name of Jacob, and 
 subscribing with tlieir hands unto the Lord, may be 
 acknowledged by him as a generation of his people. 
 Amen. 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 CHRIST FORMED IN THE SOUL, THE ONLY FOUNDA- 
 TION OF HOPE FOR ETERNITY. 
 
 Gal. iv. 19. 
 
 Mif little children, of whom I travail in birth again 
 until Christ he formed in you. 
 
 It was the unhappy ease of Agrippa, that though 
 almost, he was only almost, persuaded to be a Chris- 
 tian ; and I fear it is now the case of many, and 
 particularly of many young persons, who have en- 
 joyed the advantages of a religious education. I 
 believe it is diflicult to find any amongst them, 
 who have not been brought under some serious im- 
 pressions betimes. With regard to the internal 
 operations of the blessed Spirit, as well as external 
 means, the morning of life is generally to them, in 
 a peculiar sense, the day of their visitation ; and 
 they often seem to know it, and in some measure to 
 improve it : but in too many instances, we find 
 their goodness as the morning cloud, and as the 
 early dew, which soon passeth away. The blos- 
 soms open fair and beautiful, and give a very 
 agreeable prospect of the plentiful fruits of holi- 
 ness in life ; but too often, when storms of tempta- 
 tion and corruption arise, the goodly appearance is 
 laid in ruins ; the blossoms do, as it were, fall to 
 the ground, and leave the tree blasted and naked ; 
 or at best only covered over with leaves of an exter- 
 nal profession, which, however green and flourish- 
 ing they may for the present be, will not at least 
 secure it from being cut down and cast into the 
 burning. Though they for a while had escaped the 
 pollutions of the world through lust, they are after- 
 wards entangled and subdued ; and the conse- 
 quence is, they prove a scandal to religion, and a 
 discouragement to others, till, in the end, they 
 bring aggravated destruction on themselves ; so that 
 on the whole, as the apostle most justly observes, 
 it had been better for them not to have known the 
 
TO THE 
 
 way of righteousness, than thus, after they have 
 known it, to turn aside from the holy command- 
 ment. 
 
 This may be in a great measure owing to the 
 mutability of human nature in general, and parti- 
 cularly to the levity and inconstancy of youth, in 
 conjunction with the force of those temptations of 
 life which continually surround and press upon 
 them. Yet I apprehend this is not all, but that it 
 is, in part, to be charged on something defective, 
 even in their best days ; on their resting in something 
 short of real religion, and a true saving change. 
 Solomon had seen reason to say, There is a way 
 that seemeth right to a man, but the end thereof are 
 the ways of death : and I believe every considerate 
 person will be ready to own, that in order to pre- 
 vent so fatal a delusion, and all the train of mis- 
 chiefs which may follow upon it, great care should 
 be taken in stating this important question ; " What 
 is the true and solid basis, on which we may 
 securely ground our eternal hopes ?" It is a ques- 
 tion of the highest importance, and the most uni- 
 versal concern, both to the aged and the young ; so 
 that I trust I need not offer any apology for com- 
 plying with the request of a pious and judicious 
 friend, who recommended this subject to our con- 
 sideration, at this time and on this occasion. 
 
 In prosecution of this design, I have made choice 
 of these words of the apostle, which I have now 
 been reading, and which may, without offering any 
 violence to them, be very fairly and naturally ac- 
 commodated to the present purpose. 
 
 It is plain from many passages in tliis epistle, 
 that the great apostle, who had planted the Chris- 
 tian church among the Galatians, had reason to 
 fear that many, who were by profession its members, 
 were not sufficiently established in their holy faith. 
 It is probable that he himself had an opportunity of 
 making but a short stay amongst them ; and partly 
 through their own negligenro and prejudices, and 
 partly through the artful attempts of false teachers 
 in the absence of St. Paul, they appear to have 
 fallen into a set of notions, and a conduct, which 
 tended not only 1o impair the glory, but to subvert 
 the very foundation, of the gospel, and with it the 
 foandation of their own eternal hopes. Of this the 
 apostle docs, in a very awful manner, admonish 
 them. He tells them, in the very beginning of his 
 epistle, that he marvelled that they were so soon 
 removed from him that called them, (and from the 
 principles he had taught them,) into another gospel. 
 And afterwards he usetli these very free and em- 
 phatical words: O foolish Galatians, who hath 
 bewitched or enchanted you, that you should not 
 I obey the truth ? Are you so foolish ? having begun 
 lin the Spirit, (having professed to embrace the 
 gospel, and shown the appearances of some com- 
 mon zeal for it,) can you now hope to be made 
 
 YOUNG. ' 687 
 
 perfect by the flesh, or by the ritual and carnal 
 observances of the Mosaic institution ? Is it thus 
 that you disgrace all you have done, and all you 
 have borne for Christ ? Have you then suffered so 
 many things in vain ? On the whole, he tells them, 
 he was ready to apprehend that all the agreeable 
 hopes he had once entertained concerning them 
 would be buried in everlasting disappointment, 
 and that it would appear he had bestowed on them 
 labour in vain. Thus did he stand in doubt of 
 them ; and that doubt pierced his heart with the 
 most tender concern, and brought upon him, as 
 it were, a second time, those pangs of soul which 
 he had felt on their account, when he saw them in 
 all the ignorance and wickedness of their Gentile 
 state. He was hardly more solicitous then, that they 
 might be turned from dumb idols to the living God, 
 than he was now, that they might give convincing 
 evidences that Christ was formed in them, i. e. that 
 they had cordially received and digested the gospel, 
 and that their hearts were delivered into the mould 
 of it ; which it did not appear they were, while they 
 were thus making void the grace of God, and the 
 righteousness of faith, by adhering to the foolish 
 and pernicious doctrine of the necessity of seeking 
 their justification, in part at least, by the observa- 
 tions of the Mosaic law. 
 
 This seems to be the most natural sense of the 
 words of the text, where such a latitude of expres- 
 sion is used, as the apostle elsewhere seems to 
 study, on purpose to render his writings universally 
 edifying and useful to them, whose particular cir- 
 cumstances in life are widely different from those 
 of the persons to whom they were originally ad- 
 dressed. 
 
 As to the introductory words, " My little chil- 
 dren," we cannot imagine they refer to the age of 
 those to whom the apostle wrote. The evident 
 design of them is, to express that kind of parental 
 tenderness which he entertained for them, like that 
 which a mother hath for an infant with which she 
 travails in birth. " My little children, of whom I 
 travail in birth again, till Christ be formed in you." 
 
 It would be easy to multiply observations from 
 the words. I might especially take occasion to 
 show, — that it is possible, those that once seemed 
 very hopeful, and still maintain an external pro- 
 fession, may appear, after all, in such dangerous 
 circumstances, that judicious ministers, and other 
 Christian friends, may be thrown into a great deal 
 of perplexity and agony on their account; and that 
 the great thing necessary to establish their safety, 
 and the comfort of those concerned for them, is, 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ be foimcd in them. 
 
 That I may more particularly illustrate and im- 
 prove the text, and take in what is most important 
 in these remarks, I will, 
 
 I. Consider several things on which men are 
 
588 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 ready to Imilil a false confidence, wliich will bring; 
 them into danger, and their judicious friends into 
 perplexity upon their account. 
 
 II. I will endeavour to show you what is the 
 only solid foundation of their own hopes, and the 
 joys of others m ith reicard to them ; which is here 
 expressed by Christ formed in tliem. And then, 
 
 III. I shall conclude with some more particular 
 improvement, in ])r()per inferences from the whole. 
 
 These are plainly matters of universal import- 
 ance ; but as I am now peculiarly addressin<? my- 
 self to young persons, I shall endeavour to (ix on 
 those thouglits which may be most remarkably 
 •suitable to them ; for I am much more concerned 
 that my discourse may be useful, tlian that it may 
 be critically regular and exact. I liope there are 
 many amongst you, wlio are experimentally ac- 
 quainted with the vitals of Christianity, and have 
 received from above an incorruptible seed. There 
 are others, to whom I must say with the apostle to 
 these Galatians, I stand in doubt of you ; and to 
 such I hope I can apply myself in the language of 
 tlie text. My little children, of whom I travail in 
 birth again, till Christ be formed in you. Pardon 
 me, if in this instance I am jealous over you Avilli a 
 godly jealousy. I would endeavour, with the sin- 
 cerest and tcnderest aft'ection, and with such free- 
 dom as the importance of the case requires, to guard 
 you against those sandy foundations, which will 
 bury you and your hopes deep in eternal ruins ; and 
 to direct you to the rock of ages, on which they who 
 build sliall never be ashamed. 
 
 I therefore entreat your serious attention, and 
 would humbly ask, botli for myself and you, the 
 teachings of that blessed Spirit, whose peculiar ofiico 
 it is, in the most efficacious manner, to show us our 
 danger and our remedy ; to aid the labouring minds 
 of ministers, and to cause them to see with satis- 
 faction the travail of their souls, while he gives to 
 their hearers a new birth and immortal life, by form- 
 ing Christ in them. 
 
 I. I am to caution you against several things on 
 which young persons arc peculiarly prone to build 
 a false and precarious confidence. 
 
 And here let mc particularly entreat you, as you 
 love your souls, and value your eternal hopes,^ — tliat 
 you trust not to the privileges of your birth,— or the 
 rectitude of your speculations in matters of religion, 
 — or the jiurity and frequency of your forms of 
 worsliip,— or the warmth of your passions, — or the 
 morality of your conduct ; for none of these apart, 
 nor even all of them united, can, according to the 
 tenor of the gospel, be suflicient for your security 
 and happiness. 
 
 1. Trust not to the privileges of your birth and 
 education as the foundation of your eternal hopes. 
 
 You are, many of you, tlic seed of God's servants, 
 perhaps for several succeeding generations. You 
 
 may be ready to plead, that you were ))orn in his 
 house, that you were early devoted to him in bap- 
 tism, and have been brought up in the most regular 
 and conscientious manner ; you have been sur- 
 rounded with lioly instructions and correspondent 
 examples from your infancy ; and repeated fervent 
 prayers, both in the family and in secret, have been 
 sent up to heaven on your account. These are in- 
 deed signal advantages, and you may justly rejoice 
 in them ; for in these respects you are the children 
 of the kingdom : but rejoice with trembling, for our 
 Lord hath told us, that it is more than a possible 
 case, that the cliildrcn of the kingdom may be cast 
 out, and have their portion in outer darkness. The 
 peculiar regard shown to the seed of Abraham may 
 perliaps be abused by some of you, as an encourage- 
 ment to those presumptuous hopes. But remember, 
 that Islimael was the son of Abraham, and Esau of 
 Isaac ; and yet neither the one nor tlic other inhe- 
 rited the blessing of his father. Remember that 
 beautiful but dreadful parable, which presents a 
 wretched creature in hell, that could cry. Father 
 Abraham, and yet in vain added, have mercy upon 
 me, and send me one drop of water to cool my 
 tongue. Once more, remember those emphatical 
 words of the Baptist, so expressly levelled against 
 this arrogant presumption : Think not (says he) to 
 say within yourselves, we have Abraham for our 
 fatlier ; for I say unto you, that God is able of these 
 stones to raise up children unto Abraham : as if he 
 should have said, " The promises made to those 
 who are the children of Abraham, respect not merely 
 tlicm wlio are lineally descended from him, but 
 those who are the heirs of his piety and his faith ; 
 for if God were to turn these stones into men, and 
 to form them by his grace to a holy character and 
 temper, such, though descended from no human 
 parents at all, would, in the sense of the promise, 
 be children of Abraham." And it were more rea- 
 sonable to expect such a transmutation, than that 
 God should acknowledge a generation of vipers as 
 his people, because they were derived from holy 
 ancestors. On the contrary, God directly assures 
 us, that if the son of the most religious father for- 
 sake the way of virtue and holiness, and prove as 
 the degenerate plant of a strange vine, in his tres- 
 pass that he hath trespassed, and in his sin that he 
 hath sinned, in them shall he die. And surely here- 
 in the ways of tlie Lord are apparently equal ; for 
 it is most evident, that a long descent from God's 
 people is a reproach and condemnation, rather than 
 an honour, to those who abandon that good old way 
 in which their ancestors have trod, and, as it were, 
 cut off that entail of piety which has been the care 
 and the glory of preceding generations. 
 
 2. Trlist not to the regularity of your sentiments, 
 in matters of religion, as the foundation of your 
 eternal hopes. 
 
TO THE 
 
 So various are the workings of men's hearts, and 
 the devices of Satan, that, if I mistake not, there are 
 some that place their confidence in the strictness, 
 and others in the latitude, of their religious opin- 
 ions ; but the one, and the other, will appear 
 equally vain, when considered in the view now 
 before us. 
 
 Some may possibly persuade themselves, that 
 their condition is secure, because their sentiments 
 are orthodox. They live perhaps in the midst 
 of the unbelieving and profane, and see daily con- 
 tempt and derision thrown upon the blessed gospel, 
 or its most glorious peculiarities ; but through the 
 influence of a good education, or from some other 
 principle short of true piety, they may nevertheless 
 not only bold fast the faith once delivered to the 
 saints, but even contend earnestly for it : nay, they 
 are, perhaps, learned in the controversies of the 
 times ; and can indeed pronounce concerning them 
 in a very rational and accurate manner. 
 
 If this, my friends, be the case with any of you, 
 I congratulate you on the happiness of a well- 
 informed judgment, but must caution you against 
 mistaking it for a sanctified heart. The mysterj' of 
 faith, as the apostle himself assures us, is to be held 
 with a good conscience; and in vain do you profess 
 to retain the one, while you make shipwreck of the 
 other. As precious a treasure as the knowledge of 
 the truth is, if you go no further than mere specula- 
 tion, it will be to you " but as a talent of gold to a 
 man sinking in the sea, which only serves to plunge 
 him so much the deeper in ruin."* 
 
 There are others who err in the contrary extreme. 
 Orthodox notions are their banter, rather than their 
 confidence. They pride themselves in having broke 
 the shackles in which others are confined, and in 
 seeing through the mist in which multitudes have 
 been perplexed. They are sensible, that many 
 things which divide the world, are merely contro- 
 versies about words ; and are not much concerned 
 about others in which there is a real difference, 
 because they are well aware, that the fundamentals 
 of religion lie in a very little room. They are con- 
 fident of the innocency of error, and ihs safety of 
 an honest mind under those mistakes which have 
 been branded with the severest names. A wicked 
 life is, in their esteem, the only dangerous heresy ; 
 and morality the only thing that is worth contend- 
 ing about; charmed with their own wisdom and 
 happiness in this freedom of thought, they look 
 down with pity on persons under the influence of a 
 contracted education and narrow sentiments, and 
 possibly mingle their pity with a great deal of scorn, 
 not to say indignation. But they are indeed them- 
 selves the objects of much juster pity, if, whilst they 
 glory in their freedom, they are the servants of cor- 
 ruption. It is certain, that the most generous 
 
 * Dr. Bates's Works, p. 938. , 
 
 YOUNG. 589 
 
 speculations will no more save men of unregenerate 
 hearts, and unholy lives, than the most rigid and 
 severe set of notions. For notions and speculations 
 are in their nature so far short of real goodness, that 
 if there be nothing more than these, it matters but 
 little what they are. Yet one cannot forbear observ- 
 ing a peculiar and most absurd inconsistency in the 
 conduct of those, who think so highly of themselves, 
 because they are possessed of this one speculation, 
 that speculation in general is a trifle, and morality 
 is all ; as if the whole of morality consisted in 
 bearing this testimony in its favour. I wish such a 
 character were not almost as common, as it is for men 
 to be bigots in defence of Catholicism, and uncharit- 
 able in pleading the cause of charity. If this be the 
 case with any of you, out of your own mouth must 
 you he condemned ; and we may justly apply to 
 you, in the midst of your self-applauses, those 
 awful words of our Lord; If ye were, in this re- 
 spect, blind, ye would comparatively have no sin ; 
 whereas now you have no cloak, or excuse, for your 
 sin. 
 
 3. Trust not in the external forms of devotion, as 
 the foundation of your great hopes for eternity. 
 
 You are, it ma}' be, joined to a society, which not 
 only wears the Christian name, but separates itself 
 from many other professors, under the apprehen- 
 sion, at least, of a more pure and Scriptural worship. 
 You, perhaps, so much approve and esteem this 
 worship, as to be diligent and constant in attend- 
 ing on the public exercises of it, not only in its 
 stated returns, but on occasional opportunities. 
 You fill your places here from time to time, not 
 merely in obedience to the commands of your 
 parents and governors, but hy your own voluntary 
 choice. And, it may be, to these you add the forms 
 of family devotion morning and evening, and, pos- 
 sibly, a few moments of daily retirement for reading 
 and prayer. What can such religious persons have 
 to fear ? Nay, rather, my brethren, what can you 
 havctohope, if, while you draw near to God with your 
 mouths and your lips, you remove your hearts far 
 from him ? If while you come before him," as his 
 people come, and present yourselves in the posture 
 of humble worshippers, your heart be going after 
 your covetousness ? God hath for ever confounded 
 such vain presumption, by declaring, that the 
 prayer of the wicked is an abomination to him ; 
 and that his shall certainly be so, that turns away 
 his ear from hearing the law, i. e. that refuses obe- 
 dience to it. The servant that knew his Lord's 
 will, and did it not, became justly lial)lc (o be 
 beaten with many stripes; and it is not to be won- 
 dered, if, in this sense, judgment begin at the house 
 of God, and seize first on those who affront and pro- 
 fane his ordinances, by making them to supersede 
 the very things which they were originally apijoint- 
 ed on purpose to promote. 
 
590 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 4. Trust not to tlic warmth of your passions in 
 matters of rcli)t'f"i !>s tlic foundation of your most 
 importnnt hopes. 
 
 Sonic of you, to whom 1 now speak, have perhaps 
 experienced very bitter agonies of eonscienee. 
 You liave been roused from tlic sleep of carnal se- 
 curity, as by an earthquake, which lias shook the 
 very centre of your soul ; the (lames of hell have 
 seemed, as it were, to Hash in your faces ; and all 
 these mingled liorrors have compelled you to cry 
 out, "Woe is me, for I am undone ! oh, what shall 
 I do to be saved !" And yet, to allude to the story 
 of Elijah, the Lord hath not been in the earthquake, 
 or in the fire, ("onsider to what purpose the intiuiry 
 after salvation hath been made, and with what re- 
 solution it hath been pursued ; otherwise you may 
 be fatally deceived. The murderers of Stephen 
 were cut to the heart by his preaching: I and we arc 
 sure that, if the most deep and terrifying: convic- 
 tions could liave secured a man's salvation, the 
 traitor .Tudas would have been safe, who undoubt- 
 edly felt the most violent convulsions of soul, before 
 he proceeded to that dreadful extremity, which 
 sealed him up under everlasting; despair. 
 
 But you may have been impressed with the 
 sweeter and the noble passions ; you have not only 
 trembled at the thunder of the law, but rejoiced in 
 the message of gospel-grace : the news of a Re- 
 deemer has been welcome to your souls, and the 
 feet of those messengers beautiful, that liave come 
 to publish peace in his name. You have, perhaps, 
 been melted into tears of pleasure and tenderness, 
 when you have heard the representation of his dying 
 love ; and when the precious promises, established 
 by it, have been unfolded, and the prospects of 
 eternal glory displayed, your minds have been ele- 
 vated and transported ; so that you have hung, 
 almost with a trembling eagerness, on the lips of 
 the speaker. — I readily acknowledge, that such as 
 these are frequently the workings of the blessed 
 Spirit of God, upon the souls of his chosen people ; 
 and when found in a due connexion with the great 
 effects they are designed to jjroduce, are highly to 
 be esteemed and rejoiced in. But remember, I en- 
 treat you, that every tear of tenderness, and every 
 sally of joy, doth not arise from so divine a spring. 
 You might weep at a mournful scene in a well- 
 wrought tragedy, as you have done at the story of a 
 Redeemer's suli'erings ; you might find yourselves 
 transported with a fine poetical description of a 
 Pagan elysium, or a Mahometan paradise, just as 
 you have been with the views of a heavenly Canaan, 
 which gospel ordin;inces have presented. Mere 
 self-love might be the foundation of such a joy in 
 the tidings of pardon and happiness, without the 
 least degree of renewing and sanctifying grace ; as 
 it probably was in those hearers, represented by the 
 stony ground, who immediately received the word 
 
 with joy, but had no root, and so endured but for a 
 while. 
 
 But, perhaps, you will say, you are confident it 
 is not merely self-love iu you, for you have often 
 found your mind impressed with a grateful sense 
 of the divine goodness; so that, when you own it 
 before God in prayer, or converse with his saints 
 on the copious and delightful subject, your souls 
 How forth in love to your great Benefactor, and you 
 look up to him in the most thankful acknowledg- 
 ments of his favours. If it be a gratitude that 
 captivates the soul into a willing obedience, and en- 
 gages you to yield yourselves living sacrifices to 
 God, then is Christ formed in your souls, and you 
 are not the persons to whom I would give the 
 alarm : on the contrary, I would rather confirm your 
 hopes, and rejoice with you in them. But if your 
 gratitude does not rise to this ; if it rest only in 
 some tender emotion of mind, or some transient, 
 external expression of that emotion, I must faith- 
 fully tell you, that 1 fear it is only a nobler degree 
 of that natural instinct which causeth the ox to 
 know his owner, and the ass his master's crib. To 
 find your spirit in this manner impressed does in- 
 deed plainly prove that the day of your visitation is 
 not entirely past ; it proves you have not sinned 
 yourselves into utter insensibility of soul; nay, it 
 may possibly at length, through the communica- 
 tions of sanctifying grace, lead you on to real reli- 
 gion, and to eminent attainments in it: but at 
 present it falls far short. I have often told you, 
 (and one can hardly repeat it too often, or insist too 
 earnestly upon it,) that there is a very wide differ- 
 ence between a good state and a good frame ; and 
 that religion is not seated either in the understand- 
 ing or in the passions, but principally in the will ; 
 which in this disjointed state of human nature, 
 is far from being always in a due harmony with 
 either. So that, on the whole, those illuminations, 
 or those affections, on which you are apt to lay so 
 great a stress, are, perhaps, at best, but the pre- 
 paratory workings of the Spirit upon your minds, 
 which, if they arc not improved aright, may leave 
 you more hard, and more miserable, than they found 
 you. 
 
 5. Trust not to the morality of your behaviour, 
 as the foundation of your eternal hopes. 
 
 Morality is certainly a very excellent thing, and 
 it were scandalous indeed for any professing Chris- 
 tian to pour contempt upon it. Wherever this iS 
 wanting, pretences to faith and Christian expe- 
 rience are not only vain, but insolent and detest- 
 able. He that committeth sin, is of the devil ; and 
 only he that doth righteousness, is righteous : nor 
 hath the grace of God ever savingly appeared to 
 that man, through whatever uncommon scenes of 
 thought he may have passed, who is not effectually 
 taught by it to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts. 
 
TO THE YOUNG. 
 
 591 
 
 and to live soberly, righteously, and godly. But it 
 will by no means follow from thence, that wherever 
 there is a sober and virtuous conduct, such a soul 
 is passed from death to life. If the whole of the 
 gospel be w rapt up in the rules of morality, then 
 is Christ dead in vain ; or, at least, it is in vain 
 that the notices of his death are published to us. 
 Beware, I entreat you, of so pernicious an error. 
 I think myself obliged more earnestly to caution 
 j'ou against it, because, while the devil is attempt- 
 ing, on the one hand, to engage some, under the 
 .specious pretences of an evangelical spirit, to turn 
 the grace of God into v.'antonness, he seems to be 
 insnaring others, by extolling the virtue which he 
 hates, in order to lead them into a neglect of Christ, 
 and his righteousness, and all the peculiarities of 
 the gospel scheme of salvation ; so that it is diffi- 
 cult on the whole to say, which of these devices is 
 most destructive to the souls of men. 
 
 From my heart I rejoice to think, there are so 
 many amongst you, my young friends, whose cha- 
 racter in life is fair and unblemished. You escape 
 the grosser pollutions of the world; you abhor 
 brutal intemperance; you scorn the mean artifices 
 of deceit, and renounce the hidden things of dis- 
 honesty ; you honour your parents and subordinate 
 governors; you treat the ministers of Christ with 
 respect and esteem ; you are aflable and courteous 
 in your behaviour to all : and, on this account, we 
 behold you and love you ; we hope, and conclude, 
 you are not far from the kingdom of heaven. But, 
 alas! if things rest here, you will never enter into 
 it. All these things had the young man in the gos- 
 pel observed from his youth ; and many of you 
 have seen, in a very large and beautiful represent- 
 ation, how lovely a youth was then perishing in 
 sin.* He lacked one thing ; and the lack of that 
 was the ruin of his soul, as it will be of yours, if 
 you are destitute of it. 
 
 I know, that they are especially in danger of 
 being deceived here, who converse frequently with 
 persons of an abandoned character ; or wlio are 
 themselves reformed from some gross irregularities, 
 to which they were once addicted. Comparing 
 themselves with others, or with themselves in a 
 more licentious and corrupt state, tlicy pronounce 
 a favourable sentence, and conclude they are safe 
 and happy : but let me entreat you, my friends, 
 that you would rather compare your hearts and 
 lives with that perfect law of God, which cannot 
 be repealed ; weigh yourselves in that balance, and 
 see whether you are not found wanting tlicre. 
 Review even the upright conduct of these days of 
 your reformation, and then say, whether there be 
 such a redundancy of merit in them, as will not only 
 answer present demands, but atone for your past of- 
 fences too. You will soon be confounded on such a 
 
 * Dr. Watts s Serm. Vol. I. Ser. V. VI. 
 
 review; you will soon acknowledge, on an impartial 
 examination, that the bed is shorter than a man can 
 stretch himself upon, and the covering narrower 
 than he can wrap himself in ; that neither you, nor 
 any living, can be justified by the works of the law. 
 
 I will conclude this head with observing, tliat the 
 instance of the blessed apostle St. Paul serves to 
 illustrate and confirm our discourse, in each of the 
 particulars I have now mentioned. Had the privi- 
 leges of birth and education been a sufficient secu- 
 rity, Paul had been secure before his conversion to 
 Christianity ; for he was circumcised the eighth day, 
 of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin ; 
 (which had not, like the rest, revolted from the 
 house of David ;) and by his mother's side, as well 
 as his fathers, a Hebrew of the Hebrews. If the ex- 
 actest regularity in religious notions, or the strictest 
 formality in the externals of worship, could have 
 secured a man, Paul had been secure ; for he was, 
 as touching the law, a Pharisee ; he lived according 
 to the rigour of that sect, and, both with respect to 
 doctrines and ceremonies, was exceedingly zealous 
 of the traditions of the fathers. If a transport of 
 passion in the cause of God could have secured a 
 man, Paul had been secure ; for, concerning zeal, 
 or with regard to that, he persecuted the cliurch, 
 and wasted it beyond measure. And, lastly, if 
 morality of behaviour could have done it, Paul 
 had been secure ; for, touching the righteousness 
 w hich is by the law, he was blameless. In these 
 things, he was once so weak, and so wretched, as to 
 place a great deal of confidence ; but when he was 
 illuminated, and called by divine grace, he assures 
 us, that what things were gain unto him before, 
 those he counted loss for Christ, i. e. he most en- 
 tirely renounced all dependence upon them. Yea 
 doubtless, says he, and I count all things but loss, 
 for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus 
 my Lord. Which naturally leads me to the second 
 general, where, 
 
 II. I am to consider, what will be a solid found- 
 ation for hope and joy when all these precarious 
 dependences fail. 
 
 This is, with the utmost propriety, expressed in 
 the text, by Christ formed in the soul ; which is 
 exactly parallel to that phrase in Colossians, Ciirist 
 in you, the hope of glory, which is there mentioned 
 as an epitome of the gospel, the riches of the glory 
 of the mystery preached among the Gentiles. 
 When Paul could see that the Galatians were 
 brought to this, the pangs of his labouring mind 
 would be ended, and joy and conlidcnee would 
 succeed ; which is plainly intimaled in the words of 
 the text. And when you, my dear charge, are 
 brought to it, parents and ministers may rejoice 
 over you, and you will have an everlasting spring- 
 of hope and joy, a solid foundation, on which to 
 build for eternity. 
 
592 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Permit inc. tliorcforc, a little more partieularly 
 to explain it to you ; and let me entreat you to turn 
 your tlioufjlits inward, that you may judge whether 
 you liavf been experimentally acquainted with the 
 temper and changT whieh I shall now describe, as 
 signified by this remarkable expression in the text, 
 Christ formed in you. 
 
 Now , I think, it implies these three things : — That 
 some apprehensions of Christ have taken hold of 
 the heart ; — that the man is brought to an explicit 
 choice of him, and deliberately enters into covenant 
 with him : and that, in consequence of both these, 
 something of the temper and spirit of Christ is by 
 divine grace wrought in his soul. I will touch on 
 each of these ; but my time will not allow me to 
 manage them in so copious and particular a manner 
 as they well deserve. 
 
 1. To have Christ formed in the soul, supposes 
 that some serious apprehensions of Christ have 
 taken hold of the heart. 
 
 It evidently implies that the external revelation 
 of him hath not only been admitted as a speculative 
 truth, but attended to as a matter of the highest con- 
 cern. Previous to the forming of Christ in the soul, 
 there must be a conviction that we are naturally 
 without Christ, and that in consequence of this we 
 are in a most unhappy condition. And this con- 
 viction must strike deep upon the heart ; for 
 till the evil of sin be felt, what can make the 
 news of a Saviour welcome ? since, as he him- 
 self has declared, the whole need not a physician, 
 but they that are sick. The man in whose heart 
 Christ is formed, has seen himself condemned by 
 God's righteous law ; has seen himself equally un- 
 able to answer its demands, or to bear up under the 
 execution of its penalties. And feeling this to be 
 no light matter, but the very life of his soul, he has 
 then been engaged with the greatest seriousness 
 and earnestness to cry out. Woe is mc, for I am 
 undone ! O what shall I do to be saved ? I before 
 tol'l you, there may be these convictions and awak- 
 enings where Christ is never formed in the soul ; 
 and I now add, that the degree of them may be 
 various, according to the various tempers and cir- 
 cumstances of different persons : but it is most evi- 
 dent that something of this kind must make way 
 for the Redeemer's entrance, who comes to seek and 
 to save that which was lost, to bind up the broken- 
 hearted, and to give rest to the weary and heavy- 
 laden. And I the rather insist on this, because I 
 am fully persuaded, that slight thoughts of sin, and 
 of the misery of our natural estate by it, have been 
 the principal cause of all the infidelity of the pre- 
 sent age, and are daily ruining a multitude of souls. 
 
 2. The formation of Christ in the soul does 
 further imply, an explicit choice of him, and a de- 
 liberate entering into covenant with him. 
 
 When such a soul hears of a Redeemer, and of 
 
 the way of salvation by him, exhibited in Scripture, 
 it cordially approves the scheme, as entirely worthy 
 of its divine author ; and though corrupt nature 
 raises up a thousand proud thoughts, in a vain and 
 ungrateful rebellion against it, yet they are, by Al- 
 mighty grace, subdued and brought into captivity. 
 The man really sees such a suitableness and such 
 an amiableness in the blessed Jesus, under the cha- 
 racter in which the gospel reveals him, that he 
 judges him to be the pearl of great price ; and as 
 God has laid him as the foundation-stone, he is, in 
 that view, inconceivably precious to him. Far from 
 contenting himself with applauding this plan, as 
 regular, beautiful, and magnificent in general, the 
 true believer is solicitous that he may have his own 
 share in this edifice of mercy ; and that, coming to 
 Christ as a living stone, he may himself be one of 
 those who shall on him be built up for a habitation 
 of God through the Spirit. When he considers the 
 Lord Jesus represented as standing at the door and 
 knocking, it is with pleasure that he hears his voice, 
 and opens to him, and, as Zaccheus did, receives 
 him joyfully. He regards him as a nail fastened in 
 a sure place, on which he can Joyfully fix all his 
 eternal hopes, infinitely important as he sees them to 
 be. And while he thus anchors his soul on the 
 righteousness, the atonement, and the intercession 
 of a Redeemer, he humbly bows to his ^luthority, as 
 his Lord and his God. It is his desire to seat him 
 on the throne of his heart, and, as it were, to put 
 into his hand the sceptre and the sword, that all the 
 powers of nature may be governed, and all the cor- 
 ruptions of it destroyed, by him. In a word, as he 
 knows that Christ was given for a covenant to the 
 people, he deliberately sets his seal to that covenant, 
 thereby devoting himself to Christ, and, through 
 him, to the Father. Such are his views, his pur- 
 poses, and his engagements ; and by divine grace 
 he is enabled to be faithful to them. Whieh leads 
 me to add, 
 
 .3. When Christ is formed in any soul, something 
 of the temper and character of the blessed Jesus is 
 by divine grace wrought there. 
 
 I might with ease multiply scriptures in proof of 
 the absolute necessity of this ; but it is so obvious, 
 that you must yourselves know, how expressly it is 
 required. You know, how plainly St. Paul has 
 told us, that if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, 
 he is none of his ; and where this Spirit resides, Christ 
 dwells in the heart. The same mind, or temper, is 
 in such a one, as was also in Christ Jesus ; and as 
 he profe.sseth to abide in him, it is his care so to 
 walk, as Christ also walked. On which account 
 the true Christian is said to have put on Christ, in 
 allusion to the Hebrew phrase, of being clothed 
 with any temper or affection, that greatly prevails 
 or governs in the soul.* 
 
 * Thus we read of being clotlie'l with riglitcousnoss, Job xxix. 14. 
 
TO THE 
 
 It is a very pleasing, as well as useful, employ- 
 ment, to trace the lineaments of the temper and 
 conduct of Christ in his people. Our Lord is in a 
 peculiar sense the Son of God ; but his people are, 
 through him, taken into the same relation : for they 
 have not received the spirit of bondage again to 
 fear, though perhaps they were once subjected to 
 it, but they have received the Spirit of adoption ; 
 and because they are sons, God hath sent forth the 
 Spirit of his Son into their hearts, crying Abba, 
 Father. By this Spirit a filial temper is wrought in 
 their souls, by which their obedience to their hea- 
 venly Father is so animated, as to be most honour- 
 able and grateful to him, as well as most easy and 
 delightful to themselves. Under the influences of 
 this Spirit, the Christian desires it may be his 
 character now, as he trusts it will be his happiness 
 at last, to follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth ; 
 to follow thfit Jesus, who was holy, harmless, un- 
 defiled, and separate from sinners. He is indeed 
 deeply sensible, that it is impossible for him, as his 
 Lord did, to fulfil all righteousness ; and therefore, 
 when he hath done all, he calls himself an unpro- 
 fitable servant. Yet he sceth so much of the in- 
 ternal beauties of holiness, so much lustre and glory 
 in the image of God, as drawn on the soul of man, 
 that it is the great concern of his heart, and labour 
 of his life, to pursue it. Nor would he only abstain 
 from grosser enormities, and practise those virtues 
 which are most honourable amongst men, and at- 
 tended with the greatest secular advantage ; but he 
 would, in every respect, maintain a conscience void 
 of offence, and perfect holiness in the fear of God. 
 He hath so affectionate a sense of the riches of the 
 divine grace, displayed throiigh a Redeemer, in 
 adopting so unworthy a creature as himself to the 
 
 i dignity and privileges of a son of God, that he often 
 cries out, in raptures of holy gratitude and joy, 
 
 I What shall I render unto the Lord for all his 
 benefits towards me? Inspired with this noble 
 principle, he searches his Father's will impartially ; 
 and when he hath discovered it, he obeyeth it cheer- 
 
 I fully, and it is his meat and his drink to perform it. 
 
 I He loves the Lord his God above all, and loves his 
 fellow-creatures for his sake as well as their own, 
 and entertains the highest veneration and affection 
 for those who most heartily resemble his Father 
 and their Father, his God and their God. It is his 
 prayer, and his endeavour, that he may go about 
 doing good, and be useful to all as he hath oppor- 
 tunity ; tliat he may pass through the world with a 
 holy moderation, and superiority of soul, to the things 
 which are seen and arc temporal ; thankfully own- 
 ing every mercy as proceeding from God's paternal 
 love and care, and serenely submitting to every 
 
 I affliction, as the cup which his Father puts into his 
 
 1 P«al cxxxii.9. With liiimilily, 1 Pet. v. 5. Willi zeal. Isa. liv. 17 
 With cursing-, PmI. cix. 18. Willi shame, Pwl. exxxii. 18, 6ce. 
 
 2 Q 
 
 YOUNG. 393 
 
 hand. In a word, he desires, that in all the varieties 
 of life he may still be intent on the views of an 
 everlasting inheritance; humbly looking and long- 
 ing for that blessed hope, yet willing patiently to 
 wait his Father's time : having this constant ex- 
 pectation, and reviving assurance, that whether he 
 live, he shall live unto the Lord, or whether he 
 die, he shall die unto the Lord ; so that whether 
 he live or die, he shall be the Lord's. 
 
 This is the Christian ; — this is the man in whom 
 Christ is formed ; or, rather, these are some faint 
 lineaments of his character : and I will venture to 
 say, that he who cannot discern something in it, 
 even as thus imperfectly described, which is vastly 
 superior to that morality and decency of behaviour, 
 which arises merely from prudential views, or from 
 the sweetness and getltleness of a man's natural 
 temper, is sunk below the boasted religion of nature, 
 and must take refuge in the w-retehed principles of 
 Atheism, if he would pretend to form any thing of 
 a consistent scheme. But now, 
 
 III. I must conclude with hinting at some reflec- 
 tions and inferences, which my time will not allow 
 me to handle at large. 
 
 1. How important is it, that ministers should lead 
 young persons into such views as these! 
 
 Our great and important business in life is to 
 promote the eternal happiness of our hearers, and 
 to lay a solid foundation of hope and joy in their 
 souls. We have seen now what it is, and other 
 foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which 
 is Jesus Christ. Here then let all our labours 
 centre. It is the good old way, in which our fathers 
 in the ministry went, and in which they prospered. 
 Let us follow their steps, and exert our most vigor- 
 ous efforts here. Modern refinements may amuse 
 us in our closets, but they will never feed the souls 
 of our hearers, nor spread the triumphs of a gospcJ, 
 which was the power of God to the salvation of 
 thousands, before they were ever dreamt of. I hope, 
 God is my witness, that I am heartily concerned for 
 the interest of virtue; (if by that be meant the 
 advancement of practical religion ;) but I never 
 expected to see it promoted by the most i)hiIoso- 
 phical speculations concerning its nature, or the 
 finest harangues on its innate beauties, when the 
 name and peculiar doctrines of Christ are thrown 
 off', as unfashionable encumbrances of a discourse. 
 Experienced Christians, who have fasted the bread 
 of life, will not contentedly be put off witii such 
 chaff: and if we imagine that the younger part of 
 our auditors may be trained up to a relish for it, we 
 may, perhaps, succeed in the attempt : but I much 
 fear, that success will be the calamity of the church, 
 and the destruction of souls.* 
 
 * Tlie aiilhor hns taken a greater freedom on this heart, as the dis- 
 cnnrsc was delivered before sevtTat candidates for tlic ministry, for 
 Mhoni In- had some peculiar concern. 
 
694 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 •2. We may loiim Iroiii licnct, what are the niosl 
 valu.ible proofs of pareiilal allection. 
 
 Certainly, lliere is no reason to esteem, as sueh, 
 that fond indulgence which sulVers ill habits to grow 
 up in the young mind, and fears its present distur- 
 bance more than its future ruin : no, nor yet the 
 more prudent care of providing plentiful and 
 agreeable aeeommodaf ions, for the subsistence and 
 delight of your infant oll'spring, as they advance to 
 maturity and settlement in life. These things 
 indeed are not to be neglected; but wretched are 
 the children, and I will add, the parents too, where 
 this is the principal labour. Would you express a 
 wise and religious tenderness, for which your chil- 
 dren shall have reason to thank you in their dying 
 moments, and to meet you with joy in tlie interviews 
 of the eternal world .' Do your utmost that Christ be 
 formed in tlicir souls; and let them plainly see, 
 that you even travail in birth again, till tliis happy 
 work be accomplished. But this leads mc to add, 
 
 3. W'hat need is there of the work of the divine 
 Spirit on the heart, in order to the laying this great 
 foundation ! 
 
 The language of the text, which speaks of Christ 
 formed in us, naturally leads our thoughts to some 
 agent, by whom the work is done ; and when you 
 consider w hat kind of a work it is, I appeal to your 
 own consciences, w hether it is to be thought merely 
 a human production ? W^cre it only a name, a cere- 
 mony, a speculation, or a passion, it would not be 
 w orth a moment's dispute, whether you or w e should 
 have the glory of it. But as it is nothing less than 
 the transformation of a corrupt and degenerate 
 creature into the holy image of the Son of God, it 
 were impiety for either to arrogate it to ourselves. 
 
 Let us therefore on the whole learn our duty and 
 our wisdom. Let the matter be brought to a serious 
 and immediate review, and let us judge ourselves 
 by the character described, as those that expect very 
 shortly to be judged of the Lord. If, on tlie ex- 
 amination, any of you have reason to conclude that 
 you are strangers to it, remember that tlie invincible 
 battery of the word of God demolishes all tlie tower- 
 ing hopes you may have raised on any other founda- 
 tion. Let conscience then say, whether any amuse- 
 ment, or any business in life, be so important, as to 
 be attended to, even for one single day, in neglect 
 of this great concern, on w hich all the happiness of 
 an immortal soul is suspended. If nothing be in- 
 deed found of greater moment, apply yourselves 
 seriously to this, and omit no proper and rational 
 method of .securing it. Consider the ways by which 
 Christ uses to enter into a soul, and wait upon him 
 in those ways. Rcilect seriously on your present 
 condition ; constantly attend the instructions of his 
 word, and the other .solemnities of his worship; and 
 choose to converse intimately with those, in whom 
 you have reason to think he is already formed. But 
 
 in all remember, that the success depends ujion a 
 divine cooperation, and therefore go frequently into 
 the presence of (Jod by prayer ; go into it this day, 
 or if possible this hour, and importunately entreat 
 the regenerating and sanctifying inlluenccs of his 
 Spirit, which, when you earnestly desire them, the 
 gospel gives you such ample encouragement to 
 expect. But if you have reason to liopc, that you 
 have already received them, learn to w hat the praise 
 should be ascribed ; and let it animate you to pray, 
 tliat through further communications from the 
 throne of grace, you may be made continually more 
 and more like to your Redeemer, till you are pre- 
 pared for that world, where you shall shine forth in 
 his complete resemblance, and shall find it your 
 complete and eternal felicity. Amen. 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 A DISSUASIVE FROM KEEPING BAD COMPANY. 
 
 Prov. iv. 14, 15. 
 
 Enter not into the pat/i of the wiched, and yo not in 
 the way of evil men : avoid it, pass not hy it, turn 
 from it, and pass away. 
 
 If vvc have any regard to the judgment of the wisest 
 of men, illuminated and directed by the influences 
 of the divine Spirit, wc must certainly own, that ill 
 company is'avery dangerous snare, and that young 
 persons should be frequently and earnestly caution- 
 ed against it. The excellent collection of moral and 
 religious precepts contained in this book of Pro- 
 verbs, was especially intended to give subtilty or 
 prudence to the simple, and to the young man 
 knowledge and discretion. As the sacred author 
 well knew, that he should plead the cause of wis- 
 dom and piety in vain, while the voice of dissolute 
 companions was heard, and their conversation pur- 
 sued, he begins his addresses to youth with repeated 
 cautions on this head : My son, says he, if sinners en- 
 tice thee, consent thou not. As he proceeds in his 
 discourse, the address grows more lively and earnest ; 
 and I am sure evci7 attentive hearer will soon dis- 
 cover a peculiar energy in the words of the text. 
 This faitliful and compassionate counsellor doth not 
 content himself with dissuading his young reader 
 from joining with notorious ofl'eiiders in their crimes, 
 but even from going in the w ay w itii thcni, or with 
 any other evil men ; nay, from entering ujion it, or 
 even approaching it, so much as to pass by it, if 
 there w ere not a necessity of doing it. Enter not 
 into the paths of sinners, and go not in the way of 
 evil men : avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it. 
 
TO THE 
 
 and pass away. As if he should have said, " Shun 
 the very place where such wretches assemble, as 
 you would if it were infected with the most malig- 
 nant and dangerous disease : and if you have un- 
 warily taken any steps towards it, stop short, and 
 direct your course another way." 
 
 Such lessons did Solomon teach ; and such had 
 he himself learnt from David his father. That pious 
 prince, in the very entrance on the book of Psalms, 
 describes the good niati as one that walketh not in 
 the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way 
 of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful ; 
 and he elsewhere speaks of the citizen of Zion, as 
 one in whose eye a vile person, far from being chosen 
 as an intimate companion, is contemned, while he 
 honours them that fear the Lord. Thus he deline- 
 ates the holy and happy man ; and he had a pleas- 
 ing consciousness that this character was his own : 
 he therefore appeals to God as a witness to it. that 
 be had not himself sat with vain persons, and was 
 determined that he would not go in with dissemblers : 
 nay, that he was so far from seeking and deligliting 
 in their company, that he hated the congregation of 
 evil-doers, and would not sit with the wicked : 
 he resolutely drove them away from him, as one 
 M'ho knew their society would be extremely in- 
 jurious to the purpose he had formed of devoting 
 himself to a religious course : Depart from me, ye 
 evil-doers ; for I will keep the commandments of 
 my God. 
 
 The sacred writers of the New Testament recom- 
 mend to us, that we should have no fellowship with 
 the unfruitful works of darkness ; that we should 
 not be unequally yoked in any kind of intimate 
 friendship with unbelievers ; and that if any do not 
 obey the word, we should note such a one, and have 
 no company with him, that he may be ashamed. 
 
 Considering such passages of Scripture, as well 
 as the reason of the thing, I think it proper at this 
 time to pursue this subject at large. I well know, 
 that I may succeed in this particular address, and 
 yet leave you strangers to a saving change, and far 
 from the kingdom of God ; but if I cannot prevail 
 upon you to refrain from and discard the company 
 of sinners, I fear other admonitions will turn to very 
 little .iccount. In the further pro.secution of the 
 subject I will, 
 
 I. Briefly tell you, what I intend by that bad 
 company which I would caution you against, and 
 how far 1 would urge you to avoid it. 
 
 II. Offer some considerations to deter you from 
 it ; and then, 
 
 III. Conclude with a few obvious inferences. 
 
 I. I am briefly to .show you what I would now 
 caution you against. 
 
 And here, surely, I need not be large in telling 
 you what I mean by bad company. It is, in gene- 
 ral, " the conversation of tho.se, who are apparently 
 2 Q 2 
 
 YOUNG. 695 
 
 destitute Oi the fear of God ;" and so it takes in, 
 not only persons of the most dissolute and aban- 
 doned characters, but those vain and worthless 
 creatures who manifest a neglect of religion, tliough 
 free from gross and scandalous immoralities. So 
 that what I have to say will be applicable to all 
 sinful companions whatever ; but the more notorious 
 their vices are, the more evident will be the force of 
 each of these arguments, by which I shall now 
 endeavour to fortify you against their society. 
 
 Neither shall I use many words in telling you 
 how far you are to avoid such company ; for to be 
 sure you cannot imagine that I am endeavouring to 
 dissuade you from a necessary commerce witli them 
 in the common affairs of life, and the business of 
 your calling ; since then, as the apo.stle expresses 
 it, you must needs go out of the world, considering 
 the state of relijrion and morality in it. Nor would 
 I lead you to a neglect of any offices of humanity 
 and civility to them ; for such a beha\iour, instead 
 of adorning the gospel, would greatly prejudice 
 their n>inds against it. Least of all, would I hinder 
 you from applying yourselves to them by serious 
 admonitions, in order to convince them of their sin 
 and danger, and to engage them to repentance and 
 reformation. In these views the blessed Jesus 
 himself conversed freely with persons of the most 
 infamous characters, though he were perfectly holy, 
 harmless, undefiled, and in that sense separate from 
 sinners. The folly I would caution you against is, 
 " choosing irreligious persons for your intimate 
 friends, and delighting to spend your vacant hours 
 in vain conversation with them." My design does 
 not require further explanation; the great difficulty 
 I apprehend is, what I shall meet with while I am 
 attempting, 
 
 II. To fortify you against the danger of such 
 companions, and to engage you cautiously to avoid 
 them. 
 
 When I call this tlie most diflicult part of my 
 work, it is not because I am at a loss for arguments, 
 or apprehend those arguments to be either weak or 
 obscure. A variety of considerations immediately 
 present themselves to my mind, so plain, and yet 
 so important, that I am confident, were the matter 
 to be weighed in an etjual balance, a few moments 
 would be sufficient to produce a rational conviction 
 of what I am to prove. But oh ! who can answer 
 for the effect of such a conviction ? When I con- 
 sider the unaccountable enchantment which there 
 .seems to be in such company as I am warning you 
 against ; and reflect on the instances in which I 
 have seen young persons of sense and education, 
 who once appeared to promise remarkably well, at 
 length entangled, and .some of them ruined by it ; 
 I dare not presume on the success I might other- 
 wise expect. Nevertheless, I know that the word 
 of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than 
 
596 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 any two-ed'Tod sword ; and 1 know, that if it hv 
 guided by tlie liand of the blessed S|)irit, it will be 
 cflectiial to divide you from your most delinlilfiil 
 carnal associates ; sinec it ean separate thiii<>'s as 
 near to each other, as the joints and the marrow, 
 and can lay open the heart to so clear a view, as 
 that it shall seem to have discerned even its thoughts 
 and intentions. 
 
 It is this encourages me to make the attempt, 
 and I hope the difliculty and importance of the ease 
 will not only excuse my handling- it at large, but 
 w ill also engage all, who have any regard to the 
 happiness of the rising generation, to lift up their 
 hearts to God, that he may assist and succeed me 
 in pleading this weighty cause, in which the 
 interests of time and eternity are so apparently 
 concerned. 
 
 Give me leave then to bespeak the most serious 
 attention of all that hear nie, and especially of the 
 younger part of my audience, while I urge on your 
 consciences such considerations as these : — Seriously 
 reflect on the many unhappy consequences which 
 w ill attend your going in the way of sinners : — think 
 on those entertainments and pleasures which you 
 give up for the sake of their society : — and consider 
 how little advantage you can expect from thence, to 
 counterbalance the pleasures you resign and the 
 evils you incur by it. 
 
 1. Let me entreat you seriously to reflect on the 
 man}' unhappy consequences which will attend 
 your entering into the path of the wicked, and 
 going in the way of evil men. 
 
 You probably w ill by this means quickly wear 
 out all serious impressions ; — you will be exposed 
 to numberless temptations to sin and folly, — and 
 thrown out of the way of amendment and reforma- 
 tion ; — and thus will be led into a great many tem- 
 poral inconveniences, till at last you perish with 
 your sinful companions, and have your eternal por- 
 tion amongst them in hell. 
 
 (1.) By this means you will be in the ready way 
 to lose all sense of religion, and outgrow the im- 
 pressions of a serious education, if Providence have 
 favoured you with it. 
 
 If your hearts are not harder than the nether 
 mill-stone, some such impressions were surely made 
 in your younger years ; and I believe few that have 
 been trained up in religious families have entirely 
 escaped them. If these are duly improved, they 
 will end in conversion and glory ; but if they are 
 resisted, they lead to greater obstinacy in sin, and 
 throw the soul still further from the kingdom of 
 God. Now what ean be more evident than the 
 tendency of vain and carnal conversation to <iucnch 
 the blessed Spirit of CJod, and hinder the mind 
 from falling in with his preparatory work upon it. 
 
 I am persuaded that if they, who are under some 
 prevailing sense of divine things, consider how 
 
 dillicuH they often find it to preserve those impres- 
 sions on their spirits, in the company of some who 
 appear, on the whole, to be serious people, even 
 they will be afraid frequently to venture into the 
 company of the sensual and jjrofane. As Mr. Bol- 
 ton finely exjiresses if,* " Throw a blazing firebrand 
 into snow or rain, and its brightness and heat w ill 
 quickly be extinguished ; so, let the liveliest Chris- 
 tian plunge himself into carnal company, and he 
 will soon fiiul the warmth of his zeal abated, and 
 the tenderness of his conscience prejudi(;ed." Now, 
 if it be so detrimental to those who have deli- 
 berately devoted themselves to tlie service of God, 
 and have had some experience of the goodness of 
 his ways, judge how much more dangerous it must 
 be to him who has only some feeble desires, and as 
 yet undetermined purposes, in favour of it. Young 
 people are extremely rash and credulous ; and 
 when you see your favourite companions neglect- 
 ing serious godliness, and perhaps deriding it, it is 
 a tliousand to one that you will not have cour- 
 age to oppose them : you will probably, at first, 
 be silent; and then you will grow ashamed of your 
 former tenderness ; till at last, seduced by the 
 craftiness of them that lie in wait to deceive, you 
 may secretly censure religion as an unnecessary 
 and burtliensome thing, if you are not transported 
 so far as openly to revile it, and join in the sense- 
 less and impious cry against those that appear to be 
 influenced by it. 
 
 Again, when you have been used to the pleasures 
 of such company, and, perhaps, of that unbridled 
 luxury which they may be ready to lead you into, 
 you will, no doubt, lose your relish for all the en- 
 tertainments of devotion. The hours you spend in 
 the exercises of it in public, or in tlie family, will 
 grow tedious, and almost insupportable to you ; and 
 you will rejoice when the dull work is over, that 
 you may return to your Ijeloved companions again. 
 Thus will all regard to religion be gradually worn 
 out of your mind ; and this seems to be the argu- 
 ment suggested by St. Paul, to dissuade the Co- 
 rinthians from being unequally yoked with unbe- 
 lievers. For what fellowship hath righteousness 
 with unrighteousness? or what communion liath 
 light with darkness ? This alone would be a very 
 considerable evil ; but it is far from being all you 
 have to fear ; for I add, 
 
 (2.) By frequenting ill company, you lay your- 
 selves open to many temptations, and probably will 
 be drawn into a great deal of guilt. 
 
 You know, there is a strong force in example. 
 " We are all," .says Mr. Locke, " a kind of chame- 
 leons, that take a tincture from that which is near 
 us."t So that, if you converse with wicked people, 
 you will probably become like them yourselves. 
 It is an argument, which Solomon urges against 
 
 ♦ Direction* for walking with Goil. + Locke's Works, vi.l ill. 
 
TO THE 
 
 forming any peculiar intimacy with those that are 
 passionate ; and it is equally applicable to many 
 other cases: Make no friendship with an angry 
 man ; and with a furious man thou shalt not go ; 
 lest thou learn his ways, and get a snare to thy soul. 
 
 Alas, sinners, you are too apt to be led into guilt 
 by your own corrupt hearts, even when you have 
 the fairest advantages against it, amidst the wisest 
 instructions, and the holiest examples. How forci- 
 bly then will the temptation assault you, when you 
 see others, and those your most intimate friends, 
 yield to it without any appearance of remorse ! 
 and when, it may be, you hear them pleading in 
 favour of the compliance, and endeavouring to 
 persuade you to join them in the practice, as what 
 they have themselves found delightful and advan- 
 tageous ! 
 
 It is no small evil for an immortal creature, who 
 was sent into the world to serve God, and to secure 
 a happy immortality, to live in vain, and to trifle 
 away hour after hour in mere idleness and imper- 
 tinence. Yet this is the least sin that bad company 
 leads a man into. Unhappy as this is, would to 
 God that it always rested here ! the world would at 
 least be more peaceful, and your damnation, sin- 
 ners, would be less intolerable. But daily ol)scrva- 
 tion undeniably proves, that by evil examples, and 
 wicked companions, people generally learn glut- 
 tony and drunkenness, swearing and uncleanness. 
 It engages them in foolish quarrels, in which they 
 blaspheme the name of God, and injure their ncigii- 
 bour; and it habituates them to such extravagant 
 ways of living, as they are forced to support by 
 secret dishonesty, and very often by open robbery. 
 Thus they gradually fall into those scandalous 
 enormities, which at first they could not have 
 thought of without horror. This fatal effect is 
 plainly hinted at in Proverbs, where the wretch 
 that abandoned himself to the society of sinners, is 
 represented as acknowledging, that he was almost 
 ill all evil, in the midst of the congregation and as- 
 sembly ; i. e. he was so hardened in his variuus 
 crimes, as not to be ashamed to commit, or at least 
 to avow, them in the most public manner. 
 
 (3.) By frequenting sinful company, you will throw 
 yourselves out of the way of repentance and re- 
 formation. 
 
 I before observed, that you will by this means 
 contract a disrelish for the exercises of devotion ; 
 and this will probably be attended with the neglect 
 of those ordinances, which God liatli appointed as 
 the great means of our conversion and edification. 
 And when these are neglected, how can you expect 
 that God should pursue you with uncommon inter- 
 positions of his grace ? that when his word is 
 despised, and his house forsaken, he should seize 
 you as it «ere by violence, amongst your dissolute 
 companions, and convert you in your midnight 
 
 YOUNG. 597 
 
 revels ? Your pious friends may indeed have some 
 opportunities in private of expostulating with you ; 
 but it will require a great deal of resolution to at- 
 tempt it ; and when they do, they must take it as a 
 peculiar favour, if you give them a patient hearing, 
 and do not affront and revile them for their charita- 
 ble endeavour of delivering your souls from the 
 pit of destruction, and plucking you as brands out 
 of everlasting burnings. 
 
 But if we should allow, that their importunity, 
 or any other consideration, should sometimes bring 
 you within the hearing of an awakening, practical 
 sermon, and some serious impression should be 
 made upon your minds by it, it is very probable all 
 these convictions \\ ill wear of!', as soon as you re- 
 turn to your wicked companions again. One gay, 
 licentious hour amongst them may undo the labour 
 of many days and weeks, and presently teach you 
 to laugh at yourselves for the former alarm, as if 
 every fear had been vain, and every purpose of re- 
 formation needless. And thus your hearts will be 
 like tempered steel, which gathers strength from 
 every blow of the hammer, to make a more vigorous 
 resistance to the next ; and j'ou will harden to all 
 the most mollifying methods of Providence and of 
 grace, till at length you provoke the blessed Spirit, 
 so often resisted, entirely to withdraw, and so you 
 be sealed up under final impenitency. Thus the 
 poor foolish creature I mentioned before, who was 
 so fond of the society of sinners, is represented as 
 reflecting too late, that all the wisest and kindest 
 endeavours of his friends for his reformation, had 
 been utterly incfTecfual. How, says he, have I 
 hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof ! 
 I have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor in- 
 clined my ear to them that instructed me. Thus 
 incorrigibly disobedient will you be, if you enter 
 into the path of sinners, and go on in the way of 
 evil men. In consequence of this, 
 
 (4.) You will undoubtedly find yourselves ex- 
 posed to a great deal of |)roscnt inconvenience and 
 calamity, with regard to your temporal afiairs. 
 
 Now, mcthinks, this consideration should at least 
 have its weight with you, whose guilt it is, and 
 whose ruin it too probably may be, to look only at 
 those things which are seen, and are temporal. I 
 before observed, that by frequenting ill company, 
 you will be under strong temptations to idleness. 
 And thus you will, in all probability, waste your 
 substance, and shorten your days ; and in the mean 
 time lay a foundation for many diseases, which may 
 give you an utter disrelish for all the comforts and 
 entertainments of life, when you stand in the great- 
 est need of them. I add, that it is not at all un- 
 likely, that the foolish (|uarrcls, into which it may 
 lead you, may be attended with cost or pain, and 
 perhaps with both. And as for your reputation, 
 which to a generous spirit is one of the dearest of 
 
598 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 all temporal onjovnicnts, I must plainly loll you, 
 that if yoii determine to take no eare in tlic ehoice 
 of your company, you must necessarily give it up. 
 For if, alniDst by a miracle, you should be kept 
 from runninjj,- with your sinful associates into the 
 same excess of riot and folly ; yet the very circum- 
 stance of taking pleasure in such sort of companions 
 Mill be enough to overthrow it, in the judgment of 
 wise and considerate people. 
 
 Such arguments as these does Salomon use, when 
 cautioning his young readers against so dangerous 
 an entanglement. He pleads the many temporal 
 inconveniences and evils which attend it, and many 
 of which I have just been mentioning. He ob- 
 serves, that it tends to impoverish them : he that 
 follows after vain persons, shall have jioverty 
 enough : that however it may seem the cement of 
 friendship, it often proves the occasion of enmity 
 and contention ; for who hath woe ! v. ho hath sor- 
 row? who hath contentions ? « ho hath babblings ? 
 who hath wounds without cause ? who hath redness 
 of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine with the 
 partners of their midnight debaucheries. How 
 much the health is impaired by it, is evidently 
 suggested, when he represents the poor creature as 
 mourning at last, when his llesh and his body are 
 consumed ; and to add no more, he expressly tells 
 us, that sinners, by tlie.se kinds of confederacies, lay 
 snares for their own blood, and lurk privily for their 
 own lives ; which he uselh as an argument against 
 complying with their proposals, when they seem 
 most advantageous. And accordingly, we see that 
 most of those unhappy creatures, who are the 
 victims of public justice, and fall by the hand of 
 the executioner, declare with their dying breath, 
 that wicked company was the occasion of their 
 ruin. 
 
 (5.) If you choose the society of sinners, you will 
 probably perish with them, and have their company 
 in hell, as you have had it upon earth. 
 
 The probability of this dreadful consequence is 
 but too apparent from what I have said under the 
 former heads of this discourse. If you lose those 
 religious impressions which were early made, if you 
 are drawn into a great deal of sin, and thrown out 
 of the way of repentance and reformation, what can 
 the end of these things be ? or what can you reason- 
 ably expect, but that God should execute upon you 
 all the fierceness of his wrath ? And to cut off your 
 vain, presumptuous hopes, and awaken you to that 
 sense of danger, which is so absolutely necessary 
 for your deliverance, he has expressly threatened 
 it; and that not only in general with respect to all 
 sinners, but particularly to such as arc fond of 
 wicked company. And it is worth your while to 
 observe, in what language he threatens it : A com- 
 panion of fools shall be destroyed. So that what 
 Solomon says of one sort of sinful companions is 
 
 justly applicable to the rest: Their house is the 
 way to hell, going down to the chambers of death. 
 
 Now let mc entreat you to dwell upon this 
 thought, till you feel something of the weight and 
 the terror of it. Be sometimes asking yourselves, 
 " How can we dwell with the <levouring (ire ? How 
 can we lie down in everlasting burnings .'" How 
 can you endure those torments yourselves ! And in 
 what temper, and with what reflections, will you 
 meet the partners of your guilt and folly there ! And 
 in what manner will you converse together? Alas, 
 my friends, in those seats of horror and despair, all 
 that rendered your intercourse on earth delightful, 
 will be come to an eternal period. There will be 
 no opportunities for you and them to gratify your 
 sensual desires together ; no delicious food, no in- 
 toxicating liquors, no gay tales, no cheerful songs; 
 but instead of these, blackness of darkness for ever- 
 more ; weeping, and wailing, ajid gnashing of teeth ; 
 the worm that never dies, and the fire that cannot 
 be quenched. 
 
 Will it then be any relief to you, to look back on 
 those days, which you shared in luxury, and in sin? 
 Will your friendship still continue? And will you 
 be endeavouring, by tender condolences, and by 
 obliging oflSces, to mollify and alleviate the miseries 
 of each other ? Alas, sinners, hell is not the seat of 
 friendship, but of everlasting enmity and rage. All 
 the wretched inhabitants will live in perpetual dis- 
 cord, and mutual abhorrence. And no doubt your 
 keenest resentments will burn against those, who 
 have been your partners in sin ; as your aggravated 
 damnation will be in part owing to them. And on 
 the same principles, will their indignations rise 
 against you. And thus you will lie for ever, con- 
 tinually exercising all the enlarged capacities of 
 your minds, to increase the torments of each other. 
 And perhaps it is the only instance, in which your 
 desires and your attempts will be effectual. Oh ! 
 sirs, when I think of the air and form of some 
 wicked creatures, when transported witli passion, 
 when I observe how venomous their speeches, and 
 extravagantly furious all their actions are, methinks 
 I see the most lively emblem of the society below : 
 but alas, how much more dreadful must it be, to 
 stand exposed to the rage and revenge of a damned 
 spirit! yet this is like to be your lot; and if it be, 
 the most delightful of your comjjanions in sin will 
 probably prove your fiercest tormentors. 
 
 There is reason to apprehend, that these, and 
 such as these, will be the miserable consequences 
 of wicked company with regard to yourselves. And 
 I might now infer from hence, that your frequenting 
 it must be very grievous and injurious to others. I 
 might plead against it at large, from the alarms and 
 sorrows to which your parents and ministers will 
 be exposed by your pursuing it, and the mischievous 
 influence it may have on the circumstances and 
 
TO THE 
 
 characters of your own domestics, if ever you ap- 
 pear at the heads of families, as well as of others, 
 with whom you are concerned. Solomon urges one 
 of these considerations, when he says, A companion 
 of riotous men shameth his father. Here would be 
 a large field of argument ; but I wave it at present, 
 lest my discourse should swell beyond due bounds, 
 as well as to avoid the repetition of what I was lay- 
 ing before you on a former occasion.* 
 
 Nevertheless, I hope you are abundantly con- 
 vinced, by what has been already said, that the 
 pernicious and dangerous consequences are many 
 and great : let rae entreat you further to consider, 
 
 2. How much nobler entertainment and pleasure 
 you give up for a converse, which is like to prove 
 so fatal to you. 
 
 I would fain persuade you, if already entangled, 
 to burst these bands asunder, and to cast away these 
 cords from you, which will otherwise bind you as 
 victims to eternal wrath. And to engage you to it, 
 I would say, as the wise man doth, Forsake the fool- 
 ish, and live. It is not only necessary to preserve 
 i your life, but you may likewise be assured, it would 
 I most happily improve it, and bring you to another 
 i kind of life than what you have yet known, in com- 
 parison of which your present way of life is but a 
 wild distempered dream. The father of lies may, 
 I perhaps, have persuaded your weak and unexpe- 
 rienced minds, that there is no such thing as plea- 
 sure to be found out of this enchanted circle which 
 he has drawn about you : but did you know where- 
 in true sclf-enjoyment consists, I niiglit have de- 
 clined all those awful argujiients which I have so 
 largely been urging upon your consciences. Oh, 
 j my friends, could I but this day be so happy as to 
 I persuade you to break the chain, and to abandon 
 ' these insnaring companions, not merely from pru- 
 I dential, but religious, considerations, I should 
 presently lead you into a new world. Instead of 
 being the associates of the idle, the intemperate, 
 and the profane, you would then converse with those 
 I who are indeed the excellent of the earth, and 
 would be able to say, with David, I am a companion 
 of them that fear thee, O Lord, and of them that 
 keep thy precepts. And is that a contemptible 
 thought ; What think you, if an angel were to de- 
 i scend from heaven to make his abode on earth, or 
 the Lord .Jesus Christ himself were to appear again 
 in the inOriiiities of human flesh ; with whon* would 
 that angel, or that Redeemer, choose an intimate 
 friendsiiip, and as frefpient converse ! Your own 
 consciences tell you, that if he were ever found 
 amongst you, it would only be as a physician visits 
 an hospital, to cure others, not to delight himself. 
 And why should you esteem that society unworthy 
 your regard, which you are sure the Lord Jesus 
 ' Christ Mould prefer .' It is because you imagine it 
 
 ♦ See Serm. V. 
 
 YOUNG. 599 
 
 gloomy and melancholy : but that imaginatioti 
 proceeds from ignorance and mistake. Were you 
 to be with them, when they are discoursing together 
 of the things of God, (as, through the divine good- 
 ness, many of us have been,) you might frequently 
 discern in their countenances such marks of sweet 
 serenity and composure, and sometimes of elevated 
 hope, and sublime, angelic joy, as would be an 
 ocular demonstration of the pleasure which a serious 
 and regular mind may find in such converse. And 
 to this you might be admitted, if, by forbearing to 
 enter into the ways of sinners, you discovered the 
 marks of a teachable disposition. For, as Solomon 
 declares, the ear that heareth the reproof of life, 
 i. e. that reproof which tends to preserve life, and 
 to make it happy, abideth among the wise ; and, as 
 he ehooseth their compan)', he will readily be ad- 
 mitted to it. 
 
 I might add, that on this supposition, you would 
 also know what it is to be good company to your- 
 selves. Reflection, which is now your torment, 
 would become your pleasure. The review of a 
 well-ordered mind, of a prudent and religious con- 
 duct, would delight you more than the most agree- 
 able prospects, or harmonious music ; and instead 
 of holding your happiness, as you now do, in a 
 servile dependence on the presence, nay, I may add, 
 on the humour, of others, even of such as are least 
 to be depended upon, you would have it treasured 
 up in your own breast, and, like the good man de- 
 scribed in Scripture, would be satisfied from your- 
 selves. 
 
 Nay, which is still infinitely more, you might 
 humbly hope, through the righteousness and grace 
 of the Redeemer, that the blessed God, the eternal 
 and inexhaustible source of happiness, would lift 
 up the light of his countenance upon you, and bid 
 you welcome into his gracious presence. This is 
 an argument which St. Paul urges, in the view in 
 which I now mention it, v\hen, dissuading the 
 (Corinthians from forming any intimate alliance 
 with sinnc.s, he pleads, that God hath said, Come 
 out from among them, and be j e separate, saith the 
 Lord, and touch not the unclean thing ; and I will 
 receive you, and will be a father unto you, and ye 
 shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord 
 Almighty. And God forbid, that you should ever 
 arrive at such a degree of impious madness, as to 
 question whether the favour and friendship of the 
 majesty of heaven be preferable to the converse of 
 a vain, sinful worm. O that he would grant you 
 the visit of one hour, of one moment ; and j'ou 
 would need nothing further to teach you to say. 
 Whom have I in iicavcn but thee ! and there is 
 none upon earth that I desire but thee ; none that 
 I desire in comparison with thee; how much less 
 in opposition to tlicc ! 
 
 Once more, if you arc companions of the saints 
 
6U0 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 now, you may (Mijoy llio reviving hope, that you 
 will shortly meet tlieiu in the presence of God 
 above, and for ever converse together, with the 
 greatest ardour of mutual affection, as w'ell as the 
 noblest iuijirovemcnt, both in capacity, temper, and 
 circumstances. Nor will you tlicre only meet your 
 pious friends, with whom on earth you took sweet 
 counsel together, and perliaps went to tlie house of 
 (iod in company ; but you m ill form many new 
 acquaintances with Die most excellent and glorious 
 of created beings ; you will come to the innumerable 
 company of angels, and to the spirits of just men 
 made perfect; nay, you will dwell for ever with 
 God the Judge of all, and Jesus the Mediator of the 
 new covenant. But surely you cannot expect a 
 favourable reception into that blessed world, or 
 any of the preparatory felicities I have been de- 
 scribing, if you resolutely adhere to foolish and 
 vicked companions now. David would not have 
 presumed to pray, as he doth, Gather not my soul 
 with sinners, if he could not have said, as in the 
 preceding words, I have not sat with vain persons, 
 neither will I go in w ith dissemblers ; I have hated 
 the congregation of evil-doers, and w ill not sit with 
 the wicked. And if you think to reconcile such 
 companions with such enjoyments and hopes, you 
 delude yourselves with inconsistent dreams, in 
 direct opposition to the voice of reason, as well as 
 of Scripture. Give me leave, once more, to entreat 
 you to consider, 
 
 3. How little advantage you can receive from 
 such society, to counterbalance the damage you 
 sustain, and the ha])piness you forfeit for it. 
 
 I am sure it ought to be something very grand 
 and important, for which you grieve your friends, 
 and provoke God ; for which you cut yourselves off 
 from the most valuable enjoyments in this world 
 and a better, and at length plunge yourselves into 
 everlasting dcstruclinn. And now show us, I en- 
 treat you, the worthy prize ; tell us what those 
 friends arc, whose company you purchase at so 
 dear a rate ; and what important odices they can do 
 for you, to make you amends for all you must lose, 
 and for all you must suffer, on their account ? Poor 
 wretches ! the most they can do, is to administer 
 something that may gratify your appetite, or amuse 
 your imagination, for a few transient moments. A 
 relishing meal, a cheerful cup, a thoughtless, noisy 
 burst of laughter, are some of the best things they 
 can procure for you. And are these so great? 
 Surely, if it were reasonable in any case, it is pecu- 
 liarly so in this, to say of laughter. It is mad ; and 
 of mirth and luxury. What doth it? It is but a 
 poor entertainment while it lasts, which Solomon 
 elegantly compares to the useless momentary blaze 
 of a few crackling thorns under a pot : and there 
 is a mixture of uneasiness often attending it from 
 H view of the consequences, which will often force 
 
 itself on the mind; so that even in laughter the 
 heart is sonowful. But if the satisfaction it gave 
 were ever so transporting, or ever so complete, yet 
 still it would be very contemptible, because its , 
 duration is so short. Death is continnally advanc- 
 ing towards you, which will very shortly separate 
 you from your chosen comi)anions ; and if the most 
 beloved of them were waiting round your bed, they 
 could l)y no means deliver you from the grave, or 
 moderate the agonies which were bringing you 
 thither. Even before your trembling souls arc dis- 
 lodged from your bodies, your relish for their con- 
 verse will be entirely spoiled ; so that you would 
 think yourselves barbarously insulted by them, if, 
 in the midst of your anguish and distress, they 
 should offer you tliose entertainments which you 
 once so fondly pursued together, and which were 
 the cement of your precarious and short-lived 
 friendship. Judge then, whether those things are 
 so highly valuable, which, in the near views of 
 eternity, you would behold with horror, rather than 
 with pleasure; and whetlier your most rational 
 felicity in both worlds is to be sacrificed to such 
 vanities as these. 
 
 I firmly believe, that, upon such reflections as 
 these, you must be compelled, even to your own 
 condemnation, to confess that, as Solomon declares. 
 He that followeth vain persons, is void of under- 
 standing. And if you are convinced of it, then let 
 me entreat you, my dear uniiappy friends, who are 
 entangled in this fatal snare, that, in the strength 
 of divine grace, you would immediately attempt an 
 escape. Tt will indeed require resolution ; but, re- 
 member, it will amply reward it : and therefore 
 determine upon it this day, that you will go no more 
 to their assemblies of vanity and of sin ; and when 
 they would entice you, consent not to them ; but 
 rather tell them plainly and seriously, that you 
 know, and consider, that your souls are at stake; 
 and tell them, you avoid their company now, be- 
 cause you dread it in hell. And who knows, but 
 such a serious and lively admonition from those 
 who were once their brethren in iniquity, may do 
 more to awaken them, than many addresses from 
 the pulpit? Who knows, but it may effectually re- 
 claim them, and be a means of forming them to such 
 characters, as may make their friendship as safe 
 and as honourable, as ever it was dangerous and 
 infamous ? At least, you will have delivered your 
 own soul, and may comfortably hope, that your 
 life will be given you for a prey. With this 
 solemn charge, as in the name and presence 
 of God, I dismiss you from this head, and pro- 
 ceed, 
 
 III. To those reflections and inferences, with 
 which I shall conclude the discourse. 
 
 1. If so many evils and dangers attend the pur- 
 suit of wicked company, how careful should parents 
 
TO THE 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 and guardians be, to keep young people out of tlie 
 way of it ! 
 
 You see, from all I have been saying, how neces- 
 sary this care is, if you desire they should be happy 
 in this world, or in the next. It is a dreadful 
 charge that is brought against Eli, and a dreadful 
 doom is pronounced upon him for it ; that his sons 
 made themselves vile, and that he restrained them 
 not. And therefore, as you love your own souls, 
 and those of yours, endeavour, with all possible 
 resolution, to avoid being culpable yourselves on 
 this account. 
 
 And here I would observe, that your care must 
 begin very early, and that it must take a great com- 
 pass. You should endeavour betimes to lay in an 
 antidote against the future poison, by labouring to 
 the utmost to possess their infant minds with a 
 sense of the divine presence, a desire of pleasing 
 God, and a dread of offending him. You should 
 endeavour to inspire them with an abhorrence of 
 t sin, and a love to the ways and people of God. 
 Endeavour to find out suitable company for them, 
 and to make your own company as delightful to 
 them as you can. Indulge them in such diversions 
 as duty and prudence will admit ; for too rigorous 
 a restraint from these tilings, makes them eager to 
 pursue them, wherever they arc to be found. And 
 if you sec they begin to form an acquaintance with 
 such as you think likely to insnare and corrupt 
 them, first gently warn them of it, and endeavour, 
 by the easiest methods, to draw them off. If those 
 will not do, reason with them more largely on the 
 head ; lay before them the various dangers they 
 will be exposed to, and show them the instances of 
 those who have been injured and ruined by such 
 company : instances, which, it is to be feared, you 
 ■ will always have near at hand. And if all this be not 
 I enough, interpose with the authority God has given 
 I yon ; absolutely forbid them the place and com- 
 pany, and let them see by your after-conduct, that 
 you are in good earnest in the prohibition. At tlic 
 same time, endeavour to recommend religion to 
 them in the most amiable light, that they may be 
 convinced it carries its entertainment along with it, 
 so that there is no need of seeking pleasure in the 
 I paths of the destroyer. I know this is a matter of 
 I difficulty, and requires a great deal of prudence and 
 steadiness to conduct it aright ; but I am per- 
 suaded, if parents and masters were careful in tliis 
 respect, few would be ruined till they came to be 
 I at their own disposal, and the destruction of mul- 
 I titudes would be entirely prevented. May God 
 I graciously give you wisdom to know your duty, and 
 faithfulness to perform it ! 
 
 2. If wicked company be so pernicious, as we 
 have heard, then how cautious should you be in tiie 
 choice of a companion for life, if you arc in such 
 circumstances as to have that choice before you. 
 
 It is evident, that, as all bad company is danger- 
 ous, so the nearer it is to us, and the more frequent 
 the opportunities of conversing with it, the greater 
 mischief will it probably do us. Those who are in 
 the conjugal relation, should make it their great 
 business and care, to assist and animate each other 
 in the ways of God ; and such is the prevalency of 
 our sinful nature, and so many the snares and 
 temptations of life, that, with all possible advan- 
 tages, our progress will be too slow, and too fre- 
 quently interrupted. What then could you expect, 
 if you had those, not only in your houses, but in 
 your arms too, from whom you would hardly ever 
 hear a serious word ; and who would perhaps be 
 unwilling to give you the hearing, if you should 
 attempt any such discourse: nay, might possibly 
 revile or banter you for it, and by their impious 
 language and wicked example, might greatly 
 deaden religious sentiments in your own heart, and 
 either prevent or frustrate your endeavours for 
 communicating them to those under your care? 
 When Christians of one sex or the other, choose 
 such a companion for life, they seem to lie under 
 great difficulties, and will be in imminent danger, 
 either, on the one hand, of failing in a due affec- 
 tion and regard, or on tlie other, of being perverted 
 and insnared by that very affection, which both the 
 duties of the relation, and the comfort of life, so 
 evidently require. If any of you have taken this 
 hazardous step, I have nothing to do but to advise 
 you, to be daily looking up to (^od for that extraor- 
 dinary prudence which your circumstances require. 
 But this is such a situation that I cannot forbear 
 praying, that, as for those of you who arc yet single, 
 no considerations of beauty, wit, temper, or fortune, 
 may ever prevail upon you to bow your necks to so 
 unequal a yoke. 
 
 3. How much reason have you to be thankful, if 
 God has delivered you from the snares of wicked 
 company, and given you a relish for such as is 
 good. 
 
 Think how easily you might have been entangled 
 and undone. Tiiink how many, in other respects, 
 at least your equals in wisdom and capacity, arc in 
 this instance making a foolish choice ; and bless 
 the Lord, who has given you counsel. It is his 
 mercy that gives you serious and useful friends, 
 and gives you a heart to value them. IJy their con- 
 verse you tnay gain many advantages directly op- 
 posite to the evils I have been describing. iJc 
 liunibled, that you have improved these advantages 
 no better ; and pray for the aids of divine grace, 
 that for the future they may be more diligently re- 
 garded. And if Providence ever lead you into the 
 company of carnal sinners, which the most pious 
 and resolute cannot wholly avoid, labour that tliey 
 may be something the better for you, and you not 
 the worse for them ; and consider all the irregiilari- 
 
602 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 tics joii observe in tlu-m, as fiiitlier motives of 
 tliaiiivfLiIiiess to Ood, for niakini;- a diircreiiee be- 
 twixt theui and you, and }!;ivin<;; you eompany so 
 much more amiable than theirs. Onee more, 
 
 4. Let young persons of a regular character take 
 great lieed that tliey do not, by insensible degrees, 
 become dangerous companions to each other. 
 
 Tliat social turn of mind which is natural to men, 
 and especially to young persons, may perhaps lead 
 you to form yourselves into little societies, particu- 
 larly at this season of the year, to spend your even- 
 ings together. But let nie entreat you to be cautious 
 how you spend them. If your games and your cups 
 take up your hours, till you intrench on the night, 
 and perhaps the morning too, you will, to be sure, 
 quickly corrupt each other, and soon degenerate 
 into a club of rakes and debauchees. Farewell 
 then to prayer, and every other religious exercise 
 in secret. Farewell to all my pleasing hopes of you, 
 and to those hopes which your pious parents have 
 entertained. You will then become examples and 
 instances of all the evils I have so largely been de- 
 scribing. Plead not, that these things are lawful in 
 themselves ; so are most of those, in a certain de- 
 gree, which by their abuse prove the destruction of 
 men's souls and bodies. If you meet, let it be for 
 rational and Christian conversation ; and let prayer 
 and other devotions have their frequent place 
 amonst you. And if you say or think that a mix- 
 ture of these will spoil the company, it is high time 
 for you to stop your career, and call yourselves to 
 an account ; for it seems by such a thouglit, that 
 you are lovers of pleasure, much more than lovers 
 of God. Some of these things may appear to have a 
 tincture of severity ; but consider, whether (in pre- 
 sent circumstances*) I could have proved myself 
 faithful to you, and to Him in whose name I speak, 
 if I had omitted the caution I have now been giving 
 you. I shall only add, that, had I loved you less 
 tenderly, I had perhaps warned you more coldly, of 
 this dangerous and deadly snare. May God render 
 the admonition as successful as I am sure it is sea- 
 sonable and necessary ! 
 
 SERMON Vlll. 
 
 RKLIGIOUS YOUTH INVITED TO EARLY COMMUNION. 
 ISA. xliv. 3 — 5. 
 
 Fur I will pour water upon him thai is thirsty, and 
 
 floods upon the dry tjround ; I will pour my Spirit 
 
 upon thy seed, and my blessiny itpon thine off- 
 
 ♦ N. R. TIic substance of this sormou was first prtaclied at Har- 
 liornuj^li, TJeri rnlicr 25, 1725; anil afterwards at Northampton, on that 
 day eight years 
 
 spriny • and they shall spriny up as amony the 
 yrass, as willows by the water-eoiirscs. One shall 
 say, I am the Lord's ; and another shall call him- 
 self by the name of Jacob ; and another shall sub- 
 scribe with his hand unto the Lord, and surname 
 himself by the name of Israel. 
 
 On the first hearing of these words, you will easily 
 apprehend tiiat liiey all'ord abundance of very i)ro- 
 j)cr matter for a discourse to young people; but you 
 may perhaps be surprised when I tell you, that I 
 shall take occasion from them to address religious 
 youth, with a large invitation to an early attendance 
 on the table of the Lord. 
 
 This is a surprise which I do not at all affect to 
 give ; for to press in a scripture to serve a jjurpose 
 foreign to its original design, and to turn a mere 
 allusion into an argument, is, in its degree, to 
 handle the word of God deceitfully, and is indeed 
 an injury to it, rather than an honour. So that 
 I much fear, that by thus attempting to make 
 every thing of the Scripture, we shall at length 
 come to make nothing of it; for those seemingly 
 distant extremes approach nearer to each other 
 than some seem to be aware. 
 
 But I hope, my friends, you have learned to 
 judge of the pertinency of Scripture to any purpose 
 in hand, not merely by the first sound of the words, 
 but by an attentive view of its sense and connexion ; 
 and when the words I have been reading are dili- 
 gently examined, they may appear more suitable 
 to my design than you at first apprehended. 
 
 Though God had before been reproving Israel 
 with great severity, and setting their sins in order 
 before them, he intimates purposes of grace and 
 mercy, which he yet entertained toward them, un- 
 worthy as they were. And in order to prepare them 
 for further favours, he promises, in the w ords of the 
 text, to pour out upon tliem an abundant ell'usion 
 of the blessed Spirit. Now we well know, by a 
 multitude of scriptures, w hich I must not particu- 
 larly enumerate, that it w as to be in the latter day, 
 i. e. the gospel times, that this glorious promise 
 was mast eminently to be fulfilled. 
 
 The blessed effects which were to attend its ac- 
 complishment, are described in great variety and 
 elegance of language. They arc represented by tlic 
 refreshment which water gives to him that is tliirsty, 
 and which plentiful Hoods of it afl'ord to the dry 
 ground, whf^n scorched with tlie summer's heat. 
 Accordingly, it is said that they, and their ofl'spring 
 too, should flourish in religion, like the grass when 
 thus abundantly refreshed, or like willows by the 
 water-courses, the verdure of which is so delight- 
 ful, and the growth so speedy, that no more proper 
 emblem could have been chosen. Thus should the 
 souls of the children flourish, through the divine 
 blessing, on the instructions of pious parents, and 
 
TO THE 
 
 other methods appointed hy God for their religious 
 improvement. And in the next words the prophet 
 uses still greater plainness of speech, to let us 
 know that their number should be considerable, and 
 their resolutions for God lirm and determinate. 
 One and another, this man and that, should come 
 and ow n his relation to God, should publicly enter 
 himself into the engagements of his covenant, and 
 put in a humble claim to the important blessing it 
 was intended to convey. One shall say, I am the 
 Lord's ; and another shall call himself by the name 
 of Jacob J and another shall subscribe with his 
 hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by the 
 name of Israel. 
 
 Some very celebrated translators and critics 
 understand the wonls, which we render, " Sub- 
 scribe with his hand unto the Lord," in a sense a 
 little different from that which our English version 
 has given them. They would rather render them, 
 " Another shall write upon his hand, I am tlie 
 Lord's;"* and they suppose it refers to a custom 
 which formerly prevailed in the East, of stamping 
 the name of the general on the soldier,t or that of 
 the master on the slave. J As this name was some- 
 times borne on the forehead, so at other times on 
 the hand ; and it is certain Jiat several Scriptures, 
 w hich may epsily be recollected, are to 1)C explained 
 as alluding to this.§ Now from hence it seems to 
 have grown into a custom amongst some idolatrous 
 nations, when solemnly devoting themselves to the 
 service of any deity, to be initiated into it by re- 
 ceiving some marks in their flesh, which might 
 never wear out-H This interpretation the original 
 will certainly bear ; and it here makes a very strong 
 and beautiful sense, since every true C'hristian has 
 a sacred and an indelible character upon him, which 
 shall never be erased. But if wc retain our own 
 version, it will come to nearly the same, and evi- 
 dently refers to a practice which was sometimes 
 used among the Jews, and which is indeed exceed- 
 
 I » The Hebrew is, pin"") it ani' nili whicli tlie LXX Iranslatp, 
 
 + Sicut nitlilcs iinperatoris nomen in manu scriptiini liahubnnt. 
 I (irut Maiiiii suiE inscribeiit Sarrainciitiim Jehovee, sicut niilites, Ike. 
 
 Hreii. Vid. jEtius, lib. viii. cap. 12. Si'-nn, lib. i. cap. 8. lib. ii. ca|>. 
 I 5. et Augustiii. Knist. xx. 
 
 I } Servi ctiarn t>liin .stigma maniii imistiiin fcrcbant, ex quo agnos- 
 cerentur. Mercator. .See ilammoiiil, on liev. xiii. 13. 
 
 ! } Thus it is!iaici, Rev. xiii. 16, 17. Tliat all niiMi,— bond and free, 
 received Ihr ?i).irk of the beast in their right hand, or in their fore- 
 heads ; and that without it none nii^lit buy or sell. And, in another 
 place, we read of an air'„'el, that had the seal of tlie livin;; God, — to 
 Peal his servants in their forehead.s. Rev. vii. 2, ,'). In allnsioii to this 
 alsoour Lord promises, Rev. lii. 12. I will write upon him tlial over- 
 eomelh, the name of my (Jod, and my new name. On this aeeonnt 
 
 I Christians arc said to be sealed by the S|iirit unto the day of redemp. 
 lion; (Enh. iv. 30.) ashy his operations fjod owns them as his, and 
 secures them to himself, and to this fiod seems to refer, in i]\(>^e 
 
 \ condescending words, Isaiah xlix. 1(1. I have graven Zion on the palms 
 of my hands. See also E/.ek. ix. 4. " To this custom some think St. 
 
 I 1 aiil alludi-s, when he speaks of the marks of Christ, which he bare in 
 
 I Ins body, Cial. vi. 17." Polter'sGr. Antiq. vol. ii.p, 7. 
 
 . II Ouos Deo alicui conRecrabant et iniliabaiit, hos stigmatibus iiiure- 
 Iiant. Pitisc. Lexic. in inscrip. And Lucian de ne'i Syr. says, Ccrtis 
 notiscompunguntur nmnes; alii (|uidein in vola maniis, alii in cerviee, 
 &c. The manner of doing it is described by I'nidentius, Trtpi •;c<puv. 
 Hymn x. ver. 107.5, &r. And many commentators suppose this rite to 
 be referred to, Lev. xix. 28. Ye shall not print any marks upon you. 
 See Pool's Synops. in loc. and Spencer, de he^. Hebr. lib. ii. cap. 14. 
 
 YOUNG. 603 
 
 ing natural, of obliging themselves to the service of 
 God, hy setting their hand to some written articles 
 emphatically expressing such a resolution. So that 
 you see it must imply, that they who were, by the 
 influences of divine grace, brought to a serious 
 sense of religion, should, in a public and solemn 
 manner, express their subjection to God, and their 
 readiness to enter into covenant with him ; and 
 whatever rites should by him be appointed as the 
 tokens of such a resolution, the text must intimate 
 a cheerful compliance with them. For it would be 
 most unreasonable to imagine that any, of such a 
 character, and in such circumstances, would prefer 
 any form invented by themselves, or dictated merely 
 by human prudence, to the express ordinance and 
 institution of God. Now, forasmuch as it is evi- 
 dent, that, under the Christian dispensation, the 
 Lord's supper is appointed to such purposes, the 
 text must imply an attendance upon it ; and when 
 we see young Christians presenting themselves at 
 this holy solemnity, and joining themselves to God 
 and his church in it, we may properly say, they 
 subscribe with their hand to the Lord, and surname 
 themselves bj the name of Israel ; just as we may 
 sa)', in the Old-Testament phrase, that incense is 
 oli'eied, and a pure offering, when holy souls arc 
 pouring out their prayers and supplications before 
 the throne of grace, though odours and victims no 
 longer accompany their devotions. 
 
 I have surely said enough, and perhaps more 
 than enough, to account for my choosing these 
 words to introduce the discourse I have in view ; 
 in which I am to press those young persons, whose 
 hearts God has touched by his sanctifying grace, 
 to subscribe, as it were, with their hand, by enter- 
 ing themselves early into Christian communion, 
 and eating and drinking with our Lord at his table. 
 In order to which I shall, 
 
 I. Propose some plain and important arguments, 
 to engage such to an early attendance on this sacred 
 institution. 
 
 II. .\nswer some objections, which are most fre- 
 (luently urged to excuse tlie neglect of it; and, 
 
 III. Conclude with hinting at some rcllections 
 and inferences, which seem naturally to present 
 themselves. 
 
 May divine grace render this attempt the means 
 of leading many young persons into a conviction of 
 t'ioir duty and inlerest, and of adding unto the 
 cliuich such as shall be saved ! 
 
 I. I am to offer some plain and important argu- 
 ments to engage religious youth to an early attend- 
 ance on the supper of the Lord. 
 
 And, before I enter on these, I must entreat you 
 to remember, that it is to religious youth only, that 
 I address the invitation. I well know, my friends, 
 that the sacred institution I am recommending, is 
 a mo.st awful and solemn thing. I know it was 
 
Gl)4 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 intended, not only as Hie commcnioiation of a 
 Redeemer's dvinj; love, but as a seal of our (covenant 
 engaijements to God tliroufjh him ; so that to attend 
 upon it without a sincere desire of receiving Christ 
 Jesus the Lord, and devoting ourselves to him, is a 
 profanation that renders us, in some degree, guilty 
 of the l)0(ly and blood of the Lord. I am very 
 sensible, that for any to approach it in so unworthy 
 a manner, is not only in itself a sinful action, ])ut 
 may, in its consequences, prove a snare to their 
 own souls, a stumbling to others, and a dishonour 
 to the church. And therefore, far from encouraging 
 such persons to come, I should think it a very ne- 
 cessary duty to labour to the utmost to dissuade 
 them from it, and, if Providence gave me an oppor- 
 tunity, to prevent their admittance. 
 
 But 1 have frequently found, and I believe it lias 
 been the experience of many of my brethren in the 
 ministry, that young persons, not only of a very 
 sober and regular conduct, but even those who 
 have appeared most deeply impressed with the con- 
 cerns of their souls, and experimentally acquainted, 
 so far as we can judge, with regenerating grace, 
 have, in many instances, shown a strange coldness 
 to this blessed institution ; and we have know n not 
 a few who have grown old in tlie neglect of it. I 
 apprehend therefore, that a regard to the authority 
 and glory of my great Master, to the comfort and 
 improvement of your souls, and to the edification 
 and joy of the church in general, concur to require, 
 that I olTer you, my young friends, some public ad- 
 monitions on this head ; to which I now desire your 
 very serious attention. 
 
 And here permit me more largely to plead the 
 weight of a dying Redeemer's command, as well 
 as the honour, the pleasure, and the various advan- 
 tages of an early compliance with it. 
 
 1. The ordinance to which I now invite you, is 
 the known command and institution of a dying 
 Redeemer. 
 
 I need not enlarge on the proof of what is so ap- 
 parent. You undoubtedly know, that Matthew, and 
 Mark, and Luke, agree in giving us the history of 
 its institution. And St. Paul afterwards received 
 it by express revelation from Christ, and accordingly 
 relates it in a very circumstantial and pathetic man- 
 ner; telling us, not only that Christ commanded 
 that this should be done in remembrance of him, but 
 also that, by an attendance upon it, our Lord's death 
 is showed forth till he come ; jilainly intimating 
 thereby, (w hat the ends of the ordinance do further 
 evince,) that it was to continue in the church to its 
 remotest ages. So that, on the whole, you exceed- 
 ingly mistake if you imagine this to be mere matter 
 of choice, in any other sense, than as all the duty of 
 a rational creature is so. Our Lord has plainly 
 detern]ined the matter by his own sacred authority, 
 leaving this ordinance in charge to all his follow ers. 
 
 I say to all, for there is no limitation as to the age 
 of those that should attend it. It is a command to 
 young and old, as well as to rich and poor; and all, 
 that are capable of understanding it, arc obliged to 
 comply witli it, and thereby to do their homage to 
 their exalted Sovereign, and express their gratitude 
 to their most generous Friend. And can you in 
 reason refuse your compliance '. Metliinks the name 
 of the Son of God should carry along with it an 
 authority too great to be despised, and the name of 
 your Redeemer a constraining love too forcible to 
 be withstood, especially the name of a dying Re- 
 deemer. Surely, my friends, if a dying parent, or 
 brother, had given you a charge almost with his 
 expiring breath, you could not lightly have acted 
 contrary to it. How much greater regard do you 
 owe to what the blessed Jesus appointed (as the 
 apostle most pertinently observes) the same night 
 in which he w as betrayed ! Had it been some hard 
 thing that he had then enjoined, and had the reason 
 of it been unknown, so that it had appeared as a 
 mere arbitrary institution, the neglect of it had been 
 foolish and ungrateful. Had it been a more painful 
 rile than that of initiation amongst the Jews, more 
 laborious than their frequent journeys to Jerusalem, 
 and more costly than the sacrifices they oflTcred 
 there, the precept of our dying Lord had carried in 
 it an abundant answer to all that ease or interest 
 could have pleaded against it : how much more, 
 when the reason is so evident, and the observation, 
 in all respects, so easy ! Judge, I pray you, whe- 
 ther it should be neglected. Judge whether it be a 
 decent thing, that when we are sitting down to break 
 and eat bread, and to pour forth and drink wine, 
 that we may represent the breaking of Christ's body, 
 and the pouring forth of his blood, and seal our 
 covenant-engagements with him, more than one half 
 of the professing Christians should rise, and either 
 leave the place, or withdraw to a distance from the 
 holy table. What is this but to say, " Wc will now 
 have nothing to do with the memorials of a crucified 
 Saviour?" Will you, my friends, thus separate 
 yourselves from us? What if others were to learn 
 of you, and to imitate your example? Where would 
 the ordinance quickly be? Nay, where would it 
 already have been, had this temper prevailed? 
 Where, but in our Bibles ? For there it would still 
 have stood, to condemn our ungrateful disobedience, 
 as it condemns yours. 
 
 2. An early attendance upon this ordinance will 
 be truly honourable to you. 
 
 I wish I could say, that the omission of it were, 
 in the repute of the generality of professing Chris- 
 tians, so dishonourable as it ought ; but it is now 
 grown so common, that much of the just infamy of 
 it is worn off. Nevertheless, if we will seriously 
 consider it, we must own, that where reason and 
 duty require any practice, (which I have already 
 
TO THE 
 
 proved to be llie case licre,) the more frequently it 
 is neglected, the more honourable is a regard to it; 
 as it argues a laudable fortitude of mind, to oppose 
 a prevailing evil, by which multitudes are borne 
 away. And who, that hath any sense of generosity 
 and goodness, would not wish to signalize himself 
 on such an occasion as this ? 
 
 I appeal to your own hearts, my brethren, even 
 when you have divested yourselves of every senti- 
 ment of ostentation and pride, (which I would not 
 desire to press into the service of the sanctuary,) 
 would it not afford you a rational and pious pleasure 
 to reflect, that your fellow-christians might say, with 
 regard to you, " These are persons who are happily 
 distinguished from most of their companions, by 
 obedience to God and gratitude to their Redeemer; 
 they dare stand up for the honour of his institutions, 
 and of his name, in the midst of all the languor and 
 all the impiety of a degenerate age. Far from run- 
 ning with others to the same excess of riot, they do 
 not only secretly retire, that they may converse with 
 God, and devote themselves to him, but they have 
 the courage openly to appear in so good a cause. 
 ' Far from being ashamed of Christ, or of his words, 
 in this adulterous and sinful generation, they 
 readily expose themselves to all the glorious 
 reproach of a determined adherence to him. Thus 
 do they publicly declare, that their hearts arc 
 touched with a sense of his love, and inspired with 
 resolution for his service. And as they are thus 
 planted in the house of the Lord, we hope they will 
 flourish to old age there; so that generations, which 
 are yet unborn, shall be refreshed by their shade, 
 and nourished by their fruit." Thus will you, like 
 .Jabez, be more honourable than all your brethren, 
 if, like him, you call upon the name of the Lord, or, 
 in the language of the text, subscribe with your 
 hand unto him. 
 
 3. Let me plead the pleasure which this ordi- 
 nance affords, as a further argument for an early 
 attendance upon it. 
 
 If your hearts have been touched by regenerating 
 grace, you must surely know that communion with 
 ' God through a Mediator is unutterably delightful ; 
 
 and must own, that when you enjoy it, your souls 
 I are satisfied, as with marrow and fatness. If this 
 I be the case, I am sure you would look with a holy 
 I scorn on any sensual gratification that could be 
 brought into comparison with those sublime and 
 I sacred entertainments. Now, when you consider 
 I the Lord's supperas an ordinance of divine appoint- 
 ment, you have just reason to hope, that God will 
 I honour it with his gracious presence ; nay, when 
 I you consider the nature and design of the institu- 
 tion, you may probably expect some peculiar sweet- 
 ness and delight in it, beyond what you have 
 hitherto known. I .say not, that you can be abso- 
 I lutely secure of your finding it ; for it becomes the 
 
 YOUNG. C05 
 
 sovereignty of the ever-blessed God, not to confine 
 himself invariably to any method of operation ; lest 
 his agency should at length be disregarded in it, and 
 the honour transferred to the instrument : but I 
 speak of what may probably be found ; and I think 
 I might here appeal to all considerate persons, who 
 know any thing of the workings of the human 
 mind ; for I persuade myself they would be com- 
 pelled to allow, that a regular attendance on such a 
 solemnity has a direct tendency to produce the most 
 delightful sensations in a soul deeply impressed 
 with the great principles of our Christian faith. 
 
 Oh, my friends, what a scene is there opened, 
 when, by these lively memorials of his dying love, 
 tlie Lord .Jesus is evidently set forth as crucified 
 among us ! Surely the spectacle must be delightful, 
 even to creatures who are themselves perfectly inno- 
 cent and holy ! Surely the angels, who probably 
 are present in the churches while the solemnity is 
 performed, must attend it with a pleasing mixture of 
 admiration and of joy ! " Thus," may they be ready 
 to say to each other, " thus w as the great design 
 accomplished! In such sufl'erings did the Son of 
 God expire ! By such surprising steps of conde- 
 scension and of love, were apostate creatures re- 
 covered to their God ! Thus was the flaming ven- 
 geance of the Divine Majesty atoned I And now he 
 is graciously smiling upon them; and tliese happy 
 souls are sitting, as around their Father's board, and 
 anticipating the entertainments of our celestial 
 world." 
 
 But the guest, who is called to sit down at such 
 a banquet, may well be supposed to feel some ten- 
 der and transporting pleasure, beyond that of such 
 an angelic spectator. " These," () my soul, may 
 the believer say, when the bread is broken, and the 
 wine poured out, " these were the painful sufl'erings 
 which the blessed Redeemer endured for such a 
 v.retch as I am : for he loved me, and gave himself 
 for mc : he was wounded for my transgressions, he 
 was bruised for mine inifjuities. All these dreadful 
 conflicts of nature did he pass through, to avert 
 from me that weight of wrath, whicii would other- 
 wise have overwhelmed me beyond all hope of 
 deliverance. And here are the emblems of his 
 dying love and his living care. Here arc the pre- 
 cious seals of that everlasting covenant established 
 in his blood, which, as it is well ordered in all 
 tilings, and sure, is all my salvation, and ail my 
 desire. By these tokens doth a faithful God assure 
 me, that my sins are pardoned, that J am admitted 
 into his family, and entitled to all the invaluable 
 blessings of his children. Delightful thought! I 
 have nothing now to do, but quietly to sit down, 
 and wait with a holy silence and tranquillity of soul 
 for the intimations of my Father's will, till he calls 
 me to dwell in his house above. Yet a little while, 
 O my soul, and thou shalt rise to nobler enjoyments 
 
fiOfi 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 tlian even those ; Tor the bread thou hast now been 
 eatiiipf, aiul the wine thou hast been drinkin<j, are 
 l)le(l';es of a divine banquet above, in tlie visible 
 and inuuediatc presence of the blessed Founder of 
 this saered feast. The security of the covenant 1 
 have this day been sealino;, will continue in full 
 force when the bands of nature are dissolved : if I 
 drink no more with my Saviour of this fruit of the 
 vine here, I shall drink it new with hiiu in Jiis 
 Fatlier's kin>;(lom ; and therefore may encounter 
 death in the triumphant accents of good old Simeon, 
 Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, 
 for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 
 
 Through the divine goodness, I liope we can say, 
 we speak what we know ; and testify, not only what 
 we have heard from the experience of otiiers, but 
 what we liave ourselves tasted and felt. Thus is 
 God visiting and refreshing our souls, while we arc 
 attending at the blessed ordinance : and why will 
 you not come and share with us in the entertain- 
 ments so sincerely and so freely offered ? Is he not 
 saying to you. Eat, O my friends ; and drink, yea, 
 drink abundantly, O my beloved ? Why then do 
 you wrong your own souls, as well as affront his 
 goodness, by neglecting the invitation? Would 
 you come thus early, you miglit promise yourselves 
 a peculiar welcome, and a peculiar pleasure. 
 Many painful rellections might by this means be 
 prevented, and the evidence of your sincerity be 
 more happily secured ; not to say, that while your 
 spirits arc brisk and active, you may feel the im- 
 pression of those sacred passions, which are so 
 suited to this occasion, with greater energy, and 
 greater tenderness, than could be expected under 
 the decays of nature, in the evening of life. 
 
 I sliall only add, that these sublime pleasures are 
 not limited to the happy moments which you spend 
 in an immediate attendance on this feast of love ; 
 but they may be renewed, and perhaps sometimes 
 increased, by reflection ? wliereas that often brings 
 a sting along with it, more than sufficient to balance 
 all the sweetness to be found in irregular, sensual 
 delights. 
 
 4. An early attendance on the Lord's supper 
 would be very useful, as well as entertaining. 
 
 It may probably be useful, both to yourselves, 
 and others. I say, 
 
 (1.) It might be useful to yourselves in a variety 
 of respects. 
 
 I consider, that I am now speaking to tlicm that 
 look upon iniprovement in religion as their highest 
 interest ; and therefore shall only endeavour to 
 show you, what a tendency this ordinance has to 
 assist you in tliis , and that is so evident, that I 
 need not dwell largely on particulars, which, when 
 suggested in a few words, may furnish you with 
 matter of ample meditation. I shall but mention 
 then the following hints : 
 
 The preparatory exercises of devotion might be 
 very awakening and edifying to you. Tlie review 
 of your conduct, which you would be taking on 
 the approach of these solenm seasons ; the prayers 
 and praises you would then be addressing to 
 God, and the meditations in which your minds 
 would be employed, would rouse you out of that 
 lethargy in which you might be ready to sink, 
 and which the best of men find too frequently 
 prevailing. 
 
 The views of a bleeding Redeemer, of a recon- 
 ciled God, of a confirmed covenant, and of a world 
 of approaching glory, which this ordinance so 
 naturally exhibits, would strengthen, as well as 
 delight, your souls; and, by virtue of the refresh- 
 ments received at these solemnities, you might be 
 enabled to go on your way rejoicing, and to make a 
 sensible progress in your journey towards the 
 heavenly Canaan. 
 
 The remembrance of those solemn engagements, 
 with which you would then he binding your souls 
 unto the Lord, would be a ready answer in hours of 
 future temptation. You would start back with 
 horror at the thought of alienating your services 
 from a God, to whom you had so seriously and 
 publicly devoted them ; and of returning to those 
 follies and sins, which you had in a peculiar man- 
 ner covenanted against: for this would appear to 
 be adding sacrilege and perjury to the guilt of all 
 your other offences. 
 
 I shall only add here, that, by entering thus 
 early into the communion of a church, you will be 
 brought under the more immediate inspection of the 
 pastor of it, and likewise of your Christian brethren ; 
 whose faithful and tender admonitions may be of 
 great assistance to your unexperienced youth, and 
 happily promote your progress both in the paths of 
 l)rudence and of holiness. Nay, the very thoughts 
 of having drawn upon you the eyes of a society, and 
 of others too, would engage you to some more thaa 
 ordinary care, that you might not incur their cen- 
 sure, or disappoint the expectations which many 
 have raised of you. And, in confirmation of all 
 this, I cannot but observe, that many of the most 
 eminent Christians I have ever known, were found 
 amongst those, who in their early days took this 
 method of giving themselves to God and his peo- 
 ple. — I might further show you, 
 
 (2.) That your compliance with the exhortation 
 I am now enforcing, might be useful to others, as 
 well as to yourselves. 
 
 This is indeed, in part, a consequence of the 
 former ; for, the more your own souls are advanced 
 in knowledge and holiness, the more capable and 
 the more ready will you be, to promote the interest 
 of Christ in the world, and to do good to those that 
 are round about you. But I would especially lead 
 you to consider, that your atteiutance itself, sepa- 
 
TO THE 
 
 rate from these remoter consequences of it, might 
 probably be useful to others. 
 
 Other young- persons would, very probably, be 
 awakened to a sense of their duty by your exam- 
 ple ; and those who are more advanced in years 
 may be sluuned out of their neglect, when they see 
 those, M ho are so far below them in age, getting the 
 start of tliem here. Nor have instances been want- 
 ing witliin the circle of our own acquaintance, 
 where parents have been stirred up to a holy emu- 
 lation, by the early zeal of their own children in 
 this respect. It will be a joy to all that wish weli 
 to the cause of a Redeemer, to see that God is 
 giving him youtli, like the drops of morning de w, 
 and causing converts to flock to him, like doves 
 unto their windows: but ministers will have a 
 peculiar share in the pleasure, when they see of the 
 travail of their soul, and find, that there are at 
 least some instances, in which they do not labour 
 in vain, and spend their strength for nought. Espe- 
 cially shall those of us, who are entering on the 
 work of the Lord,* rejoice to meet our younger 
 brethren at this ordinance, as it will give us en- 
 couragement to hope, that religion will not die in 
 our hands, and be buried in the graves of our more 
 aged friends; but will be supported and adorned 
 by you, and transmitted to those that are yet un- 
 born. The joy of our heart on this occasion may 
 add vigour, as well as pleasure, to our l.ibours ; 
 and so, through the concurrence of almighty grace, 
 may have a tendency to render them still more 
 successful. 
 
 Let me then entreat and conjure you, by the 
 authority of the King of glory and of grace, and by 
 a regard to the honour, the pleasure, and the use- 
 fulness, of your lives, that you no longer persist in 
 the neglect of an ordinance so sacred and noble, so 
 delightful and advantageous. 
 
 I am persuaded, you must know and own, that 
 the arguments I have urged arc both evident arid 
 weighty; and. yet I fear, you will find something to 
 oppose to them, which if it Lc not examined, may 
 prevent, or at least diminish, their success. I pro- 
 jceed, therefore, 
 
 ] II. To obviate some objections, which may be 
 
 i offered in excuse for a. longer delay. 
 
 I And here I shall not raise difficulties merely to 
 canvass them, but confine myself to such objections 
 as I have heard some urge on this occasion; and 
 shall briefly suggest some hints, by way of answer 
 
 jtothcm. And if the enumeration of them lie not 
 
 ISO large, or the reply so full, as you could wish, you 
 know where you will be always welcome to pro- 
 pose your scruples as freely, and to state them as 
 amply, as you please. 
 
 I 1. The most obvious reply to the preceding ad- 
 idress is, that " you fear you are not prepared for 
 
 * Tliis Sermon was first preached April M, iTiX 
 
 YOUNG. G07 
 
 this ordinance, and therefore apprehend, that your 
 attendance would prove dangerous, ratlier than 
 beneficial." 
 
 To this I answer ; if the case be indeed thus, I 
 have already told you, that you are not the persons 
 to wliom I have been addressing. Nevertheless, give 
 me leave to remind you, that you ought not rashly 
 to form such a conclusion against yourselves. I am 
 sure the matter requires a very attentive examina- 
 tion ; and perhaps, on such a review, you may find 
 things are not so bad as you imagine. 
 
 You say, you are not prepared ; but I hope you 
 know, that there is a great deal of difference be- 
 tween the nature and importance of an actual and 
 habitual preparation. It is plain, that actual pre- 
 paration consists in those extraordinary devotions, 
 which, when opportunity permits, we should use in 
 our approach to this sacrament; and therefore sup- 
 poses such an approach to be determined, and con- 
 sequently there can be no room, in the present case, 
 to object the want of that. 
 
 But you fear, that you are not habitually prepared, 
 (. c. that you are not persons of such a temper and 
 character as Christ, the great Lord of the feast, has 
 invited, and will welcome to it. To determine that, 
 consider the purposes for which the ordinance was 
 appointed, and observe how far your present temper 
 corresponds to them. It was appointed to com- 
 memorate the death of Christ, and, in this view, all 
 are fit for it, who regard him as the great atoning 
 sacrifice, and desire that tiieir hearts may be aflected, 
 and their lives influenced, by a sense of his dying 
 love. It is a pledge of our mutual affection to each 
 otiicr, even to all our brethren in the Lord ; and in 
 tliis respect, all are prepared for it w hose hearts arc 
 divested of all turbulent and unfriendly passions, 
 and overflow with undissembled charity and dif- 
 fusive benevolence. True, will you perhaps say ; 
 but is it not also designed as a seal of the covenant 
 of grace ? It certainly is ; and it must be a very 
 criminal profanation to attend it, while an alien 
 from that covenant : your determination therefore 
 nnist turn on the answer which conscience will 
 make, as to your readiness to enter yourselves into 
 it. For if this be your prevailing desire, and stcd- 
 fa.st resolution, you have not only a right to the 
 ordinance, though it bo a seal of the covenant; but 
 its being appointed by Christ, in this view, is an 
 additional and very weighty argument for your im- 
 mediate and frequent attendance upon it. And 
 iicre the question is in short this; " Do you sincerely 
 desire to make an unreserved surrender of your- 
 selves to God, as your owner, ruler, and supreme 
 felicity, with a humble dependence on the medi- 
 ation of his Son, and the enlivening and sanctifying 
 infiuences of his Spirit .'" If this be your prevail- 
 ing desire, and sincere purpose, you may assure 
 yourselves of the kindest welcome, though your 
 
cm 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 .sraccs may he aKondcd with a proat deal of imper- 
 fection and weakness. lJut if you are stranp;ers to 
 such a desire, I must allow the objection in its full 
 force, and own that you have no business at the 
 table of the Lord. 
 
 Nevertheless, I cannot part with you so. Oh, my 
 friends, is there notliinp; mournful, and, I will add, 
 is there nothina; dreadful, in such a conclusion as 
 this '. " 1 have no business at the table of the Lord ; 
 I have no part in this blessed repast, because I have 
 no part in that Redeemer, whose death is comme- 
 morated there : and therefore I am shut out, by his 
 own appointment shut out ! and is not that a sad 
 intimation with respect to what is yet to come .' 
 When I enter upon the invisible and eternal state, 
 as I this ni^ht may, will he admit me to live and 
 reign with him in a world of s'ons 'would not 
 allow me so much as an approach to his table on 
 earth ? Oh, my soul, it is too plain thou must be 
 separated from his blissful presence, and driven to 
 an eternal distance, w hence thou wilt behold with 
 despairing eyes those pious souls, who have eaten 
 and drank with him here, sitting down with him in 
 his kingdom." This will not seem a little matter 
 then : O that it might now be duly regarded ! 
 
 From all this it will appear, that if this objection 
 from an unprepared temper be true, it ought not to 
 be lightly passed over, but should rather be seriously 
 considered, and the removal of it, through divine 
 assistance, immediately attempted ; since, till you 
 are prepared for this sacrament, you cannot be pre- 
 pared for heaven ; and consequently are in circum- 
 stances of the extremest danger, and daily walk on 
 the precipice of eternal ruin. 
 
 But I w ould hope, many of you, on inquiry, find 
 this is not your character and case. The unfitness 
 you object will amount to no more than this ; that 
 you find grace weak and languid in your souls, 
 though you have reason to hope you are not wholly 
 destitute of it. And is this a just excuse for ab- 
 senting yourselves from so confirming and edifying, 
 as well as so delightful, an ordinance .' It is just as 
 reasonable, as if you were to plead, " I am very 
 faint, and therefore I will not take the most noble, 
 reviving cordial. I am very weak, and therefore I 
 will refuse the most nourishing and strengthening 
 food." Thus much for the first objection. It is 
 more than time that I proceed to those that remain. 
 
 2. Others fear, that " the society of Christians, to 
 which they would join themselves, may be unwill- 
 ing to admit them into such a relation." 
 
 Now I must own, that if this objection be made 
 by persons who have been notorious on account of 
 their immoralities, and who are but lately recover- 
 ed to a sense of divine things, it will not admit of 
 an immediate answer ; nor can I invite such to this 
 sacred ordinance, till they give evidence of the 
 reality of a change in their heart, by an apparent 
 
 reformation of life, and some steady and prevalent 
 resolution in a religious course: in the mean time, 
 a regard to the honour of Christian society may 
 oblige the church to be a little reserved towards 
 such persons, and such a reserve is consistent with 
 the greatest tenderness towards them, and the most 
 afTectionate concern, that they may not break the 
 bruised reed, or quench the smoking llax. 
 
 But as for such young persons, or others, who 
 have been preserved from sueli irregularities, whose 
 conduct has been fair and honourable, and who 
 have not only arrived at a competent knowledge of 
 the great truths of Christianity, but have for some 
 time been impressed with them, so that they have 
 formed a determinate resolution for tlie service of 
 God, and, it may be, for some years made trial of 
 his ways ; far be it from us, my brethren, to say one 
 word to discourage your approach. On the con- 
 trary, we would rather invite it ; for we know it is 
 most evidently reasonable, that when the Spirit ap- 
 pears to say. Come, the bride, i. e. the church, 
 should echo back the call. We know, my friends, 
 that we are not the masters of this holy feast: we 
 know, that it is not for us to set bounds of our own 
 about this sacred table, and say, " Thus low must 
 you bow to us, before you take your seats tliere." 
 This is a conduct, which we not only abhor, as in- 
 humanity to you, but dread, as an insolent usurpa- 
 tion on the rights of our common Lord. If you 
 have indeed tasted that the Lord is gracious, you 
 will not sure be unwilling, with meekness and 
 modesty, to give some reason of the hope that is in 
 you : and blessed be God, we have not so learned 
 Christ, as to make our own phrases, or forms, or any 
 thing singularin ourown experiences, or the customs 
 of our own society, the standard by which we judge 
 either of the faith or the piety of our brethren. 
 
 3. You may, perhaps, further plead, that " you 
 fear lest, if you should enter into the church, you 
 should dishonour it by an unsuitable behaviour, 
 which might bring a reproach on religion, and its 
 blessed Author." 
 
 But give me leave to say, that tliis very fear 
 argues such a tenderness, and such a humility of 
 soul, as may in a great measure answer itself. I 
 hope you go forth in the strength of the Lord, as 
 well as making mention of his righteousness alone: 
 and you must know, that if a bare possibility of 
 falling into sin were to exclude from this ordi- 
 nance, the most confirmed Christian upon earth 
 could not dare to approach it. But while you see 
 your own weakness, and maintain, on the one 
 hand, such a jealousy over yourselves, and, on the 
 other hand, such a zeal for the honour of religion, 
 it is a certain evidence, that you are not yet left of 
 God, and a most comfortable sign, that he will never 
 forsake you. Nay I will add, that I know none more 
 likely to prove the ornaments of a society, than 
 
TO THE YOUNG. 
 
 G09 
 
 those who have such humble apprehensions, lest 
 they should prove its reproach. 
 
 4. Others may be ready to excuse their absenting 
 themselves from this ordinance, " because it is so 
 commonly neglected by professing Christians." 
 
 Now as for this, I bless God, it is far from being 
 a singular thing amongst us, to see the table of the 
 Lord furnished with guests, and young Christians 
 taking their places there. I speak it with great 
 pleasure and thankfulness. But suppose it were 
 otherwise ; what if the neglect of this institution 
 were mucli more common, both amongst the aged 
 and the young, than it is in most worshipping as- 
 semblies ; could you have the heart to draw an 
 argument from thence : " My dearest Friend, my 
 most gracious Benefactor, is generally neglected ; 
 his dying command, his dying love, is in a great 
 measure forgotten ; and therefore I will forget him, 
 and I will neglect him ?" Say, Christians, could a 
 generous mind reconcile itself to such a thought ? 
 Could a pious soul draw such a consequence as 
 this ? Methinks the argument lies quite the con- 
 trary way : " Therefore, O my compassionate 
 Saviour, will I attend with the greater solicitude, 
 that I may, if possible, shame others out of their 
 neglect; or at least, may in part supply their lack 
 of service, and bear my own testimony against an 
 ungrateful generation, who call themselves thy 
 disciples, and neglect this distinguishing badge of 
 their profession, this gracious memorial of thy 
 dying love." 
 
 5. Others may plead " the apprehensions of 
 aggravated guilt and ruin, if, after sacramental 
 engagements, they should apostatize from God." 
 
 To this I answer, that I hope you, my friends, 
 are not so unacquainted with the nature of this 
 ordinance, and the constitution of the gospel, as to 
 imagine that it consigns us over to certain damna- 
 tion, if in any instance we afterwards deviate from 
 the paths of our duty ; for, if it were so, who then 
 could be saved ? But it is probable your fears refer 
 to total apostasy. If so, I readily own that, should 
 this be the case, it would in a dreadful degree in- 
 flame your guilt and aggravate your misery, that 
 you had not only known the way of righteousness, 
 but that you had eaten and drank in the presence 
 of the Lord. But have you any thoughts of draw- 
 ing back from him, that you are thus cautious to 
 avoid an instituted ordinance, merely because, in 
 that case, it would aggravate your ruin ? So would 
 every prayer you offer, and every sermon you hear; 
 but should that thought prevent your coming to tlie 
 throne of grace, or drive you from tlie house of God .' 
 
 Nay, to strike home, I will add, that with regard 
 to you, my friends, the caution comes too late. I 
 speak of those who have not only tasted of the good 
 word of God, and of the powers of the world to 
 come, but have made trial of the ways of wisdom 
 2 R 
 
 and piety, and have had some experience in them ; 
 and as for you, I must plainly and faithfully declare, 
 that it is not for you, of all people in the world, 
 to think of gentle flames and tolerable damnation. 
 No, my brethren, that hope, wretched as it is, if 
 you sliall fall away, is unavoidably cut ofi' from you ; 
 and all your schemes must be for nothing less than 
 certain salvation and exalted glory. And to your 
 comfort let me tell you, that though it is always the 
 duty of him that thinketh he standeth, to take heed 
 lest he fall, yet you have all imaginable reason to 
 trust the promises of an everlasting covenant, and 
 to rely upon the great Redeemer, who hatli de- 
 clared, that he will give unto his sheep eternal life, 
 and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck 
 them out of his hand, or be able to separate them 
 from his love. If, then, you fear the dreadful con- 
 sequences of apostasy, which would, indeed, be 
 dreadful beyond all your fears, keep near to him as 
 the great Shepherd ; and let those very fears rather 
 engage you to an early and dili-gent attendance on 
 this, and every other appointed method of approach, 
 than drive you away from it. It is most reasonable 
 to say, " Since there are so many professors that 
 draw back even to perdition, I will wait upon the 
 Lord, that I may renew my strength, and so be 
 enabled to endure to the end, that I may receive the 
 end of my faith in the salvation of my soul." If 
 your fears operate thus, they may be a means of pre- 
 venting the evil, of which you are so apprehensive. 
 
 On the whole, I hope, that when you weigh all I 
 have been saying, and compare it with whatever 
 can be objected against it, you will be convinced of 
 your duty, and engaged to an immediate compliance 
 with it. I have enlarged so copiously on these 
 things, that, in the last place, 
 
 III. I can only mention two or three inferences, 
 which will naturally arise from what I have been 
 laying before you. 
 
 From hence we might infer, that great care ought 
 to be taken to instruct youth in the principles of 
 religion ; that they may not be destitute of such an 
 acquaintance with them, as is one necessary part of 
 preparation for this ordinance, though far from 
 being alone sufficient. 
 
 We may also infer, that more aged Christians 
 ought carefully to cultivate serious impressions, 
 which may be made on the minds of their chihiren, 
 servants, and others of the rising generation, that 
 they may be engaged to an early compliance with 
 their duty ; while, on the other band, great care 
 ought surely to be taken, that there be nothing 
 rigorous and severe in the terms of admission, 
 which may bear hard upon that modesty and ten- 
 derness of spirit which is generally to be found in 
 young Christians, and most eminently in those of 
 the most hopeful and amiable characters. 
 
 As for those of a more advanced age, who have 
 
GIO 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 lived ill tlio conliiuifd neglect of this great and 
 excellent institution, I hope tlicy have long before 
 this inferred tlie guilt and folly of their omission, 
 whieh so evidently appears from all I have been say- 
 ing, and it is attended with many otlier aggravations, 
 which my time will not now permit me to mention. 
 
 1 shall therefore conelude with observing, that 
 those young persons, who, througli graee, have 
 been eonvinecd of their duty in this instance, and 
 brought to an early compliance with it, have abun- 
 dant reason to reflect upon it with pleasure and 
 thankfulness. I think it is one of the most im- 
 portant blessings of my life, that there are many 
 such in the church here ; many who, tlirough tlie 
 divine goodness, have lately been added to it. It 
 would not be easy for me, my dear brethren and 
 friends, to say how great pleasure your presence 
 and society adds to my sacrament days ; or what a 
 delightful prospect it gives me, not only as to the 
 comfort of mj' own more advanced age, but as to 
 the support of religion here, when I am no longer 
 amongst you. I, and our more aged friends, have 
 reason to rejoice on this occasion ; but surely you 
 yourselves have mucli greater reason. Permit me 
 to remind you, that it will be a most proper ex- 
 pression of your thankfulness, to labour with the 
 utmost care to engage other young persons, your 
 brethren and companions, to come and share with 
 you in this feast. I hope your own experience of 
 the pleasure and advantage which attends it, may 
 be added to the other arguments I have been plead- 
 ing. As for your own conduct, let me most affec- 
 tionately entreat, and most solemnly charge you, 
 not only by all other arguments, but by your sacra- 
 mental vows ; by the eyes of God and of man, that 
 are upon you ; by all our expectations from you, 
 and all your engagements to us ; that as you have 
 received Christ Jesus the Lord, so you would walk 
 in him. And may almighty graee strengthen and 
 quicken you in your progress ; and crown that fair 
 morning, which is opening upon us, in so delight- 
 ful a manner, with a long, a bright, and a prosper- 
 ous day ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 THE ORPHAN'S HOPE. 
 
 Psalm xxvii. 10. 
 
 VV/ien my father and my mother forsake me, then the 
 Lord will take me up.* 
 
 There are few precepts of the gospel which will 
 appear more easy to a humane and generous mind, 
 
 • Tlii« Sermon was preached at Ashley, in Northamptonshire, 
 
 than tliat in which we are required to weep with 
 tlicm tliat weep. And surely there are few circum- 
 stances of private life, which will more readily 
 command our mournful sympathy, than tliose of 
 that alllietcd family, to the poor remains of which 
 you will naturally, on the first hearing of these 
 words, direct your thoughts, and, perhaps, your 
 eyes too. The circumstances of a family, which 
 God hath broken with breach upon breach ; of 
 those distressed children, wliose father and mother 
 have forsaken them, almost at once ; and who have 
 since been visited with another stroke, which, if 
 alone, had been very grievous, and when added to 
 such a weight of former sorrows, is, I fear, almost 
 insupportable. 
 
 I believe all of you, wlio are acquainted with 
 the case, sincerely pity them, and wish their relief: 
 but I am under some peculiar obligations to desire 
 and attempt it; not only on account of my public 
 character, but as I know the heart of an orphan, 
 having myself been deprived of both my parents, 
 at an age, in which it might reasonably be supposed 
 a child should be most sensible of such a loss. I 
 cannot recollect any scripture, which was then 
 more comfortable, as I think none could have been 
 more suitable, to me, than this which is now before 
 us ; and I the rather choose to insist upon it, as it 
 will naturally lead me into some reflections, which 
 I hope, by the divine blessing, may be of general 
 use. " When my fatlier and my mother forsake 
 me, then the Lord will take me up." 
 
 As for the psalm from whence these words are 
 taken, we are told in the title, that it was composed 
 by David, but are left to conjecture the particular 
 occasion of it. Dr. Patrick refers it to the latter 
 end of his time, and to the combat that he had with 
 the Piiilistines in his declining age ; when we are 
 told that David waxed faint, and was in great dan- 
 ger of being killed by a giant, if Abishai the bro- 
 ther of Joab had not seasonably rescued him ; upon 
 whicli it is added, that his subjects sware he should 
 no more go out to battle, lest he should quench the 
 light of Israel. To these words David is supposed 
 to allude, when he says. The Lord is ray light and 
 my salvation ; whom shall I fear ? Mine enemies 
 come upon mo to eat up my flesh ; — and, I had 
 fainted unless I had believed. But I am rather in- 
 clined to conjecture, that this psalm was composed 
 by him in his younger years, when he was under 
 persecution from Saul. There is not a line in it 
 which doth not agree to this supposition ; and there 
 are several verses which cannot so well be accom- 
 modated to the other ; especially the 12th, in which 
 he represents liis dangers as arising from false wit- 
 nesses. Now it is not easy to imagine what mis- 
 chief they could have done him amongst the Philis- 
 
 March (i, 1725, to some young persons, wliosc father, mother, and 
 sister, hail all died of tlie small. pox a few days before. 
 
TO THE 
 
 tines, who opposed him in a national, rather than a 
 personal, quarrel ; but he expressly declares else- 
 where, that the lying' words of some treacherous 
 persons had exasperated Saul against him ; and 
 complains of false tongues, in those psalms which 
 are by their title fixed to this period of his history. 
 I might add, that the words of the text seem to favour 
 this supposition ; for David doth not here say, that 
 his father and mother had already forsaken him, 
 but only speaks of it as what might happen. Now, 
 as we are elsewhere told, that when David was but 
 a lad, his father was an old man, it is very impro- 
 bable that both Jesse and his wife should have been 
 living at the time of this Philistine war, when David 
 himself was grown old and feeble. 
 
 If this argument be of weight to fix the general 
 occasion of the psalm, it is probable that this verse 
 may lead us to the particular time of its composure. 
 We are told, that when David had taken shelter at 
 Adullam from the violence of Saul, and had raised 
 a band of men for his defence, he conveyed his 
 father and mother to the king of Moab, desiring 
 that, till Providence had brought his affairs to a 
 determination, that prince would shelter them from 
 the fury of Saul, which might otherwise have proved 
 fatal to them, as it had just before done to the priests 
 of the Lord. Perhaps this was the pious reflection 
 of David, about the time his parents were to re- 
 move : When my father and mother forsake me, then 
 the Lord will take me up. As if he should have 
 said, " Though a host of my enemies be encamping 
 against me, and the nation be rising in arms to op- 
 pose me ; and *hough I be forced to dismiss my 
 aged parents, at a time when I have the greatest 
 occasion for their prudent advice, and their tender 
 consolations ; yet this is my comfort, that God is 
 with me. He will supply what I lose in them ; he 
 will take me up, and nourish me as his own child, 
 when their parental tenderness can afford me no 
 further support." 
 
 The words will naturally afford us these two 
 plain remarks, which, with the improvement of 
 them, will be the foundation of the present dis- 
 course. 
 
 1. The dearest of our relatives, and the most 
 valuable of our friends, may possibly forsake us. 
 
 IL When good men are abandoned by their dear- 
 est friends, they may find more in God than they 
 have lost in them. — When my father and my mother 
 forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. 
 
 I. The dearest of our relatives, and the most 
 valuable of our friends, may possibly forsake us. 
 
 You see David speaks of it, as at least a sup- 
 posable case, with regard to himself, that not only 
 his followers, his companions, and Iiis brethren, 
 but even his father and his mother, might forsake 
 him. All the intimacy of relation, all the endear- 
 ment of affection, could not secure him from being 
 2 R 2 
 
 YOUNG. 611 
 
 deserted by them. And this may be our own case ; 
 — our friends may abandon us through their own 
 unkindness, — or God may remove them by the 
 stroke of his providence. 
 
 1. Our dearest friends may abandon us through 
 their own unkindness. 
 
 It is the remarkable saying of one, who had made 
 many serious reflections on this head ; - " If you 
 put so much confidence in any friend, as not to 
 consider, that it is possible he may become your 
 enemy, you know man but little, and perhaps may 
 be taught to know him better to your cost." Change 
 of circumstances, contrariety of interest, our own 
 mistakes, the misrepresentations of others, and 
 sometimes mere caprice, and inconstancy of tem- 
 per, render those indifferent, and perhaps averse, to 
 each other, who were once united in the bonds of the 
 most endearing friendship. Nay, it is certain, that 
 sometimes an immoderate and ungoverned fondness 
 on both sides, may not only justly provoke God to 
 disappoint our hopes from each other, but may 
 prove, in its natural consequences, an occasion of 
 mutual disgust, and perhaps of separation. For, 
 when the mind labours under this disorder, it eon- 
 tracts a kind of sickly peevishness, which turns 
 every trifling neglect into an offence, and every of- 
 fence into a crime ; so that men find the extremes 
 of love and hatred more nearly connected, than they 
 could once have believed. Sudden fear will drive 
 away some friends when we are in danger ; and a 
 much meaner principle will lead others, who, in 
 better days, have called themselves our friends, to 
 abandon, and, perhaps, to censure us, when we are 
 reduced to low circumstances, and so have the 
 greatest need of their assistance. 
 
 Such is the vanity of human friendship. And 1 
 will add, that neither, on the one hand, the sincerity 
 of our affection, nor the worth of our character, nor 
 the urgency of our affairs ; nor, on the other hand, 
 the former appearance of goodness in them, nor the 
 highest obligations of gratitude ; nor yet, the 
 nearest tics of blood, or alliance, can secure us from 
 disappointment in this tender article. David and 
 .Job, under the Old Testament, and Paul, and even 
 his blessed Master, under the New, though all such 
 excellent persons, were forsaken, and in several 
 respects injured, by their friends ; nay, I may say, 
 as to most of them, by pious friends too. Such 
 treatment therefore may we meet with from ours, 
 even from those to whom we are related in the bonds 
 of nature as well as affection. What union can be 
 more strict and endearing, than that of marriage ? 
 Yet, you know. Job complains, while he was in cir- 
 cumstances which might have drawn tears from the 
 eyes of a stranger, that his wife seemed to have 
 forgot, not only the tenderness of her .sex, and the 
 intimacy of her relation, but even all sense of com- 
 
 » Mr. linxter. 
 
612 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 moil liuinanitv towards him. My breath, says he, 
 is strange to iny wife, though I entreated her for 
 the children's sake of my own body. From whom 
 could we cxpeet greater tenderness, than from 
 parents to their children, especially from mothers to 
 their infant odspring .' Yet God expressly declares, 
 what has indeed been seen in some amazing in- 
 stances, that tliis may fail. Can a woman forget 
 her sucking child, liiat she should not have com- 
 passion on the child of her womb .' The little ten- 
 der creature, that she has borne in her body, that 
 she has been used to lay in her bosom ; tlie poor 
 innocent, that never offended her, that has all his 
 dependence upon her; whom nature would therefore 
 prompt her most resolutely to defend, most tenderly 
 to cherish ; can she forget it ? Yea, they may for- 
 get, saitli the Lord. This strange case may happen ; 
 it may happen in repeated instances. Thus may 
 our dearest friends, and even our parents them- 
 selves, abandon us through their own unkiudness. 
 But be they ever so constant and affectionate, it is 
 certain, 
 
 2. They may be taken away from us by the stroke 
 of divine providence. 
 
 Whilst we are in the most delightful manner con- 
 versing with our friends, God may bring us into 
 such circumstances, that we shall see ourselves 
 obliged in duty to (|uit the dearest of them, possibly 
 even contrary to their judgment and advice, as 
 well as their importunate entreaties ; or they may 
 see themselves obliged, on the same principles, to 
 <|uit us ; so that we may seldom have the opportu 
 nity of seeing each other, and enjoying the pleasure 
 of mutual converse. 
 
 But the severest trial is, when God sees fit to re- 
 move them by death. When that awful messenger 
 gives the summons, we must part, though ever so 
 desirous of continuing together. None can by any 
 means deliver his brother from going down to the 
 grave, nor give to God a ransom for him, though he 
 should oHer his own life under that view. Our 
 fathers, where are they ! And, I may add, where 
 are many of our brethren of the same age, and once 
 in the same stations of life with ourselves ' What 
 multitudes of thenj are already removed by death ! 
 Perhaps, more than are left behind. We have fol- 
 lowed them to the grave, we have left them in the 
 dust, and their places that knew them, know them no 
 more. And if we are not quickly taken away our- 
 selves, we must expect that our breaches will soon 
 be multiplied upon us ; and that nothing will remain 
 of those dear creatures whom we now behold w ith 
 tenderness and with transport, but a mournful re- 
 membrance that we once enjoyed them, and a de- 
 spair of recovering them again, till we meet in the 
 eternal world. 
 
 i will only add one very obvious reflection upon 
 this head, and then proceed to the next. 
 
 May the dearest of our friends so soon forsake 
 us ? Then how careful should we be, that we 
 do not value them too highly, and love them too 
 fondly ! 
 
 We find in Scripture, that the inconstancy and 
 the mortality of human nature, are each of them 
 urged as an argument against trusting in man. 
 Thus we arc cautioned to take heed every one of 
 his neighbour, and trust not in any brother ; for 
 every brother will utterly supplant, and every 
 neighbour will walk with slanders. And elsewhere 
 we are bid to cease from man, whose breath is in his 
 nostrils ; for wherein is he to be accounted of ? And 
 how indeed can we reckon on any thing as certain, 
 which is suspended on so uncertain a life ? The 
 words of Solomon are applicable to friends, as well 
 as to riches, when he says. Wilt thou set thine eyes 
 upon that which is not? for they make themselves 
 wings, and flee away ; often swiftly and irrecover- 
 ably, as an eagle towards heaven. To set them up 
 as idols, therefore, in the place of God, is the readi- 
 est way to provoke him to remove or imbitter them : 
 and then our own iniquity, in this respect, will cor- 
 rect us. Our confident expectation from them will 
 increase our perplexity and our shame, if they 
 should forsake us through their owti unkindncss ; 
 luid our excessive fondness for them will add new 
 pangs to the agonies of a last separation. One way 
 or another, they will prove broken reeds, that will 
 not only fail and sink under us, but will go into our 
 hand, and pierce it with a wound, which will be 
 deep and painful, in proportion to the stress with 
 which we have leaned upon them. On the whole, 
 then, let us love our friends heartily, but let us love 
 them cautiously, as changeable and as mortal crea- 
 tures : and, from a conviction that it is possible 
 they may forsake us, let us make it our greatest 
 care to secure an interest in such consolations, as 
 may be a support to us when they do. Which leads 
 me to the second observation : 
 
 II. That when good men are abandoned by their 
 dearest friends, they may find more in God than 
 they have lost in them. 
 
 So David in the text declares his assurance, that 
 when his father and his mother forsook him, then 
 the Lord would take him up ; i. e. would approve 
 himself a friend and a father to him. And if we be 
 Christians indeed, we may promise ourselves all 
 that tenderness and care from him, which David 
 and other saints of old expected and found. Ke 
 hath said to every one of us, I will never leave thee 
 nor forsake thee ; and for our peculiar support under 
 the loss of the dearest and most useful relatives, he 
 has more particularly added, A father of the father- 
 less, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy 
 habitation. 
 
 When our friends are dead, we are generally 
 more sensible of their value than we were before : 
 
TO THE YOUNG. 
 
 613 
 
 but let the tenderest heart, under the immediate 
 impression of this severe calamity, set itself to paint 
 the character of a departed friend in all its most 
 amiable colours ; let it reckon up all the advantag'cs 
 which fondness could have taugjht it to hope for ; 
 and I will answer for it, that all this, and a great 
 deal more, is to be found in God. Let the dejected 
 orphan, that is even now weeping over the dust of 
 a parent, jea, of both its parents, say, what these 
 parents, in the greatest supposable advantages of 
 character and circumstance, could have done for its 
 support, and its consolation ; and the complaints of 
 the most pathetic sorrow shall suggest thoughts 
 which may serve, in a great measure, to answer 
 themselves, and to engage the mind joyfully to 
 acquiesce in the divine care, though deserted by the 
 best of parents, or any other friends, however hope- 
 ful or useful. 
 
 " Alas !" will a dutiful and affectionate child be 
 ready to say, in such a circumstance, " do you ask 
 what my parents were ? They were my dearest, my 
 kindest, my most valuable friends Their counsels 
 guided me ; — their care protected me ; — their daily 
 converse was the joy of my life ; — their tender con- 
 dolence revived me under my sorrows ; — their libe- 
 ral bounty supplied my necessities. Is it to be 
 inquired, what they were ? Say rather, what were 
 they not? And now they are gone, where must I 
 seek such friends? And how justly may I say, that 
 my dearest comforts and hopes lie buried with their 
 precious remains?" 
 
 Let us more particularly survey each of these 
 thoughts, and consider, with how much greater ad- 
 vantage each of these particulars is to be found in 
 the paternal care and favour of God. 
 
 1. Could your parents have advised you in diffi- 
 culties and perplexities ? God is much more able 
 to do it. 
 
 You will perhaps say, " Our poor giddy unprac- 
 tised minds have been hurried with a variety of 
 schemes and projects, and we have soon found our- 
 selves bewildered and lost : but tlien it has been the 
 greatest pleasure to us to apply to our parents, from 
 whose more advanced age, and riper experience, 
 we might well hope for considerable assistance. 
 We were sure they would not upbraid our igno- 
 rance, or despise us for our weakness ; but would 
 give us their best advice, with endearing tender- 
 ness, and a cordial concern for our welfare." I 
 allow, my friends, that if they were wise and good, 
 j (which we now suppose,) they were valuable coun- 
 ' sellors indeed ; and that it was your duty, and your 
 happiness, to use them as such while living, and as 
 such to lament them now they are here no more. 
 ! Yet, were they ever so prudent, you must still ac- 
 knowledge they were fallible creatures. They 
 could only form probable conjectures concerning 
 the future consequences of things ; and as those 
 
 conjectures were always precariotis, so, no doubt, 
 they were sometimes erroneous ; and you were, per- 
 haps, in some instances, misled by their mistaken 
 apprehensions. But the only wise God knows the 
 end from the beginning ; his views of the most dis- 
 tant futurities are not conjectural, but certain ; and 
 his wisdom is far more superior to that of the most 
 sagacious and experienced mortal, than the wisdom 
 of such a mortal can be superior to that of an in- 
 fant. It is he that teaches man knowledge, in 
 whatever degree he possesses it. He instructed 
 our parents, that they might instruct us ; and he 
 has expressly promised his direction to all those 
 that humbly seek it. The meek will he guide in 
 judgment, and the meek will he teach his way. 
 You may therefore, according to his own instruction 
 and command, cry unto him. My father, thou art 
 the guide of my youth ; and you will find him such 
 a guide, as can give wisdom to the simple, and to 
 the young man knowledge and discretion. 
 
 2. Could your earthly parents have protected you 
 from injuries? God is much more able to do it. 
 
 Nature has implanted, even in irrational animals, 
 snch a regard to the safety of their offspring, that 
 many of the most weak and timorotis of them be- 
 come strangely courageous in their defence. The 
 little bird, that will at other times fly from every 
 noise and every motion, will hover over her young, 
 when they are assaulted with danger; and, rather 
 than she will forsake them, will share in their ruin. 
 It is easy to perceive the spirit of parents naturally 
 rise on the least injury that is offered to their chil- 
 dren, even sometimes when it is only accidental, 
 and undesigned ; and all the professed enemies of 
 fheir children they of course reckon to be their 
 own. Nor do they onl}' watch over them in their 
 infancy and childhood, to defend them from the 
 many dangers which surround those tender days ; 
 but in more advanced years, they are ready to use 
 all their power and their influence, to shelter Ihera 
 from the unworthy u^<agc which thoy might other- 
 wise expect from an ill-natured world : and I own, 
 it is a very melancholy thing for young people to 
 lose such a guard, at a time when they are most 
 exposed. 
 
 But surely the defence of the Almighty must be 
 a much juster and nobler confidence. It is amaz- 
 ing to ol)scrve, in how condescending a manner he 
 expresses his care for the protection of his people. 
 In one plare he says. He that touchefh you, toucheth 
 the apple of his eye ; and elsewhere. He shall cover 
 thee with his feathers, and under his wings slialt 
 thou trust ; j. e. he shall defend thee, as the bird 
 shelters her little helpless brood, from the assault 
 of any thing that would injure or destroy them. 
 And could we desire a better guard? There are 
 many seasons, when our earthly parents must of 
 necessity be separated from us ; and a thousand 
 
614 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 < alaniitie.s inig;lit overtake and destroy us, even in 
 their presence, wliile they stood by helpless and 
 amazed ; but God is always with his children, and 
 as there is no danger of ours unseen by him, there 
 can be none from which he is not able to deliver 
 us. When David was forsaken by his father and 
 mother, and surrounded with a whole army of in- 
 human enemies, he speaks of this as his comfort. 
 Tlie Lord is ni}' light, and my salvation ; whom 
 shall I fear ? The Lord is the strength of my life ; 
 of w hom shall I be afraid ? Though an host should 
 encamp against me, my heart sliall not fear; though 
 war should rise against me, in this will I be confi- 
 dent ; for in his help I shall be safe, though I stood 
 single against united legions. 
 
 ,3. Did you hope for agreeable entertainment in 
 the company of your earthly parents? You may 
 expect far nobler pleasure in conversing with God. 
 
 I acknowledge there is something peculiarly de- 
 lightful in the company of a wise, a pious, and an 
 indulgent parent ; and I doubt not, but many of us 
 can easily recollect it. Even in our infant days, 
 when we were fondly prattling to them, we per- 
 haps often saw smiles of complacency sitting on 
 llieir cheeks, and even tears of tenderness and 
 pleasure rising in their eyes ; especially if, with 
 the dawnings of reason, they discovered in our 
 minds any early impressions of religion ; we can 
 perhaps recollect the condescending air with which 
 they talked to us, and the kind caresses which they 
 intermingled with the discourse. And as we grew 
 up to a riper understanding, we were still more 
 charmed with the company of such parents. We 
 had not only the manly pleasure of rational con- 
 verse, but there was a mixture of reverence and of 
 gratitude in our hearts, which much increased the 
 delight. We were assured of their candour towards 
 their children, and their prejudice in favour of 
 what we might say ; and that inspired us with 
 spirit and cheerfulness. We were encouraged to 
 attempt to please them, because we concluded we 
 might easily do it ; and the sense we had of the 
 superiority on their parts, made every expression 
 of their kindness so much the more sweet and 
 obliging. 
 
 The loss of such conversation is indeed to be 
 greatly lamented ; and it would argue a strange 
 mixture of stupidity and inhumanity to be unaf- 
 fected with it. But still remember, that though your 
 parents are gone, you are not left entirely alone; 
 for not to mention other surviving friends, your 
 heavenly Father is witli you, if it be your prevail- 
 ing desire still to be with him. Though your father 
 and your mother be removed, and you can no longer 
 go to them, unless it be to mourn over their grave, 
 and to mingle your tears with their dust ; yet you 
 may go to God, and with pleasure pour out your 
 soul before him. And what you find in him, may 
 
 give a more transporting exercise to those sweet 
 afl'eclions which added a relish to the conversation 
 of your earthly parents. The first imperfect accents 
 of prayer and praise will be a pleasing olfering to 
 him. Great and glorious as he is, he will bow down 
 an indulgent ear, through Jesus, your dear elder 
 brother; he will smile upon your souls, and allow 
 you a holy freedom in all the endearments of filial 
 converse. 
 
 Your earthly parents were not always at leisure, 
 nor always in temper to receive your visits ; but 
 wherever you are, and whatever you are doing, 
 God's gracious eye is always on his children ; his 
 indulgent ear is always open to their addresses. 
 You may eome and tell him how heartily you love 
 him, how affectionate a sense you have of his fa- 
 vours, how sincerely you are concerned for his 
 interest in the world, and how earnestly desirous of 
 faking every opportunity to advance it ; how well 
 you are satisfied with his paternal care, and how 
 cheerfully you can refer yourselves to his wise and 
 gracious disposal. Our Lord intimates, that we 
 may use such a holy boldness with God, when he 
 teaches us to say. Our Father, which art in heaven; 
 and the apostle further expresses it, when he speaks 
 of the Spirit of adoption, as teaching us to cry, 
 Abba, Father. 
 
 4. Could your earthly parents have pitied your 
 sorrows and complaints ! The like compassions 
 may you expect from God, if you apply to him 
 under the character of a father. 
 
 It is natural for a child, when any thing grieves 
 it, to go to its parents, and complain to them ; and 
 if they cannot redress the grievance, at least they 
 will be ready to condole it. Now we are expressly 
 told in the word of God, that, like as a father pitieth 
 his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. 
 And how much more valuable are the compassions 
 of God, than those of our earthly parents could 
 possibly have been ! In many cases theirs was only 
 a mourning pity, and all that they could often do 
 for our relief, was to sit down and weep over us ; 
 to afflict themselves with us ; and to give us their 
 company in distress : but the compassions of an 
 almighty God can redress the grievances which he 
 commiserates. Be our afflictions ever so many, or 
 ever so great ; in sickness and in pain ; in the 
 agonies of conscience, or the agonies of death ; 
 when parents and otlier friends are but miserable 
 comforters, he alone can support the soul ; can 
 soothe it into serenity and peace ; and can exalt it to 
 the most triumphant joy. 
 
 5. Could your earthly parents have supplied 
 your wants, and have made provision for your 
 future subsistence? God is infinitely more able and 
 ready to do it for his children. 
 
 In our years of infancy, though we had hardly 
 any thing we could call our own, we made our- 
 
TO THE YOUNG. 
 
 615 
 
 selves easy in this, that our parents would take care 
 of us ; and sometimes the circumstances of families 
 are such, that their care is almost all that the chil- 
 dren have to depend upon. When this is the case, 
 none can wonder that it is considered as a great 
 aggravation of the loss. But, surely, when God 
 proclaims himself a Father to the fatherless, he 
 intends to suggest some encouragement to sucli 
 helpless orphans as these ; and it becomes them to 
 take the comfort' of it. 
 
 Earthly parents may sometimes be so indigent 
 that they cannot, and sometimes so unkind that they 
 will not, relieve their children, at least in such a 
 proportion as their necessities require. But the 
 most high God is the possessor of heaven and earth, 
 and his goodness is as extensive as his dominion ; 
 we may therefore conclude, that he will not suffer 
 the soul of the righteous to famish. There is not 
 one parent in ten thousand so unnatural, as that he 
 could stand by and see his child perish for hunger, 
 while it was in the power of his hand to relieve 
 him. Now our Lord hath taught us to argue 
 thus : If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts 
 unto your children, how much more shall your 
 heavenly Father give good things unto them that 
 ask him ? 
 
 God has the estates and the hearts of all in his 
 hands ; and therefore can, with the utmost ease, 
 raise up friends to us in the most abandoned 
 circumstances, who shall act the part of parents to 
 us, and do more for us than they could have done. 
 And it is further to be remembered, that the boun- 
 ties of God are far more excellent, than those of any 
 mortal friend could possibly be. Their bounty, be 
 it ever so great, cannot reach beyond the grave ; but 
 it is ourFather's good pleasure to give us a kingdom, 
 incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not 
 away : in the believing, though distant, views of 
 which, we are rich amidst the extremest poverty, 
 and happy in the most miserable circumstances that 
 can be consistent with such a hope. 
 
 You sec then, on the whole, how much more the 
 good man may find in God, than he can possibly 
 lose in the most valuable earthly parents. 
 
 It only remains, that I conclude the discourse with 
 a few reflections on this second observation. 
 
 1. Let us thankfully acknowledge the gracidus 
 provision which God has made to support his people 
 under the loss of parents and friends. 
 
 We should bless his name, that he does not leave 
 us to sink under the burthen ; or at best to collect 
 some uncertain comfort from the precarious con- 
 clusions of our unassisted reason ; but that, through 
 the blood and righteousness of his Son, he has 
 given his plain and express promise for the en- 
 couragement of such inconsiderable and undeserv- 
 ing creatures. 
 
 You, whose parents are living, ought to be 
 
 thankful, that God hath provided such reviving 
 cordials for you against the mournful time when 
 they may be taken away. 
 
 And we, who have lost our parents, and have 
 found relief in our extremities from such declara- 
 tions as these, should recollect it M'ith pleasure, and 
 often repeat our songs of grateful acknowledg- 
 ment. 
 
 And I will further add, we ought not only to re- 
 joice and be thankful on our own account, but also 
 on account of those afllicted friends who may re- 
 ceive support from such strong consolations. We 
 pity children that have lost their parents ; and it is 
 delightful to see other generous persons rising up 
 to take care of the orphans, and in some respect to 
 make up their loss. But how much more delight- 
 ful it should be to us, to hear an Almighty God 
 proclaiming himself as their great guardian, and 
 saying, that when their father and their mother for- 
 sake them, he will graciously take them up. How 
 should we rejoice, that when we set ourselves to 
 comfort and encourage them, we can not only ad- 
 vance our own conjectures, but can" thus speak to 
 them in the language of God himself. And indeed 
 this reflection may be applied to all the other 
 promises. We ought to rejoice, that our pious 
 friends have an interest in them, and that God hath 
 consulted their support and consolation, as well as 
 our own. 
 
 And surely, when we are reflecting upon such a 
 promise as this, our affectionate thoughts and praises 
 should arise to him, in whom all the promises of 
 God are Yea and Amen. It is natural to say, 
 " \Mience is it that thou, the holy Majesty of 
 heaven, wilt appear under such endearing and ten- 
 der characters to sinful mortals? that thou wilt 
 speak of taking them up ? of bestowing one gra- 
 cious look upon them, and much more of extending 
 an arm of mercy to raise them from that helpless 
 condition in which they naturally lie, like aban- 
 doned outcasts? Whence is it that thou wilt take 
 tlicm into thy family now, and into thy kingdom at 
 last?" (For all this is intimated in this expression.) 
 " Lord," may each of us say, " I humbly ascribe it to 
 the riches of thy gospel grace. I would declare it 
 to the everlasting honour of .Jesus thy Son, that it is 
 through him wc have received the adoption." 
 
 2. What an engagement sliould this be to young 
 persons, to endeavour to secure an interest in God 
 through Christ ! 
 
 You must own the consolations, which I have 
 now been representing, to be far from being small ; 
 and surely, when you consider how soon the best of 
 your mortal friends may fail, you cannot but wish 
 for an interest in them : but you wish it in vain, 
 unless you seek it in the gospel way ; unless you 
 deliberately and resolutely choose God for your 
 Father in Christ, and devote yourselves to him in 
 
(>1(> 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 tlic bonds of an everlasting covenant. If you refuse 
 this, you liave reason to regard liini under the 
 eharacter of an enemy ; and to fear, tliat when lie 
 removes your friends, it is in judgment that he 
 visits you with sucli a blow. Your hearts may 
 justly meditate terror, if this be the case ; especially 
 when your pious i)arcnts are taken away. You 
 are then dei)rived of their prayers, their exhorta- 
 tions, their advices, and their examples ; and so 
 seem to be thrown further out of the way of re- 
 pentance and reformation. And let me add, that 
 if almighty grace doth not prevent it, the trouble 
 which you now feel, in being separated from such 
 dear relations while you continue on earth, will be 
 the smallest part of your unhappiness ; for you must 
 finally be separated, not only from all the most 
 valuable persons you have ever known here, but, 
 which is infinitely more, from the presence of the 
 blessed God liimself ; must fall unpitied victims of 
 the divine justice, and be delivered over to dwell 
 with your father the devil, whose works you have 
 chosen to do. And oh! how unutterably dreadful 
 is it to think, that in the awful day, when this sen- 
 tence is to be pronounced and executed upon you, 
 there will not be one friend to plead in your favour ! 
 That though your pious parents be then present, 
 yet, in a most terrible sense, father and mother will 
 then forsake you indeed ; and, instead of interpos- 
 ing their entreaties for you, will applaud the 
 righteous vengeance that dooms you as obstinate 
 rebels to eternal death ; to those abodes of distin- 
 guished misery which are prepared for such as have 
 broke through all the peculiar advantages which 
 will then be found chargeable to your account. 
 
 3. Let what I have been saying be considered by 
 parents, as an encouragement cheerfully to leave 
 their religious children in the hands of God, when 
 Providence shall see fit to make the separation. 
 
 When through the riches of gospel grace, a 
 Christian parent sees his own eternal concerns so 
 safe in a Redeemer's hands, that he can say, with 
 respect to them, I desire to depart ; yet sometimes 
 he feels reluctance mingling itself with the holy 
 desire, when he considers that he must leave his 
 dear children behind him ; perhaps in a destitute, 
 and always, if they be very young, in a hazardous, 
 condition. And this thought presses with peculiar 
 weight on the minds of those who have lost the 
 companion of their lives ; as, upon their decease, 
 their children will become entirely orj)hans. But 
 may it not revive you to hear, that God will be 
 their guardian, if th<!y be willing to choose him as 
 such ? Surely you may be abundantly satisfied with 
 his care. Alas ! what were you yourselves, with 
 all your parental tenderness, but in.struments w hich 
 God made use of for conveying some few of his 
 favours to them ? And cannot he do that by others 
 which he hath been doing by you ? Distrust not 
 
 his power or his faithfulness ; but turn all your 
 anxious care about future events, into a religious 
 concern to do your duty to your children, and by 
 all the most prudent and afleetionate methods of 
 address, to lead them into the early knowledge of 
 God in Christ ; that so, through the mercies of an 
 everlasting covenant, they may stand entitled to the 
 special protection of a heavenly Father, who can 
 never be separated from them ; and who, as he is 
 never unable, will never prove unwilling, to help 
 them. Once more, 
 
 4. Let distressed orphans have an immediate 
 and frequent recourse to such supporting consider- 
 ations as these ; — 
 
 Do not allow yourselves to suspect the truth of 
 these exceeding great and precious promises, which 
 have now been set before you ; and, for your further 
 encouragement, consider in how many instances 
 they have been confirmed by experience. 
 
 There are, my friends, I am sure there are, those 
 amongst us this day, who can set their seal to the 
 truth of what has now been spoken ; and can say, 
 in the language of the text. That when our fathoi 
 and our mother did both of them forsake us, then 
 the Lord actually took us, and proved a most gra- 
 cious parent to us. He supplied the breaches that 
 he had made, and by a train of providence, which 
 we cannot but admire in the review, raised up other 
 friends for us ; and, it may be, inspired almost with 
 the tenderness of parents, persons who were ever 
 unknown to us, when the last of our parents was 
 taken away. Nay, perhaps, some of us may say, 
 that the death of a valuable parent, which we feared 
 would be our ruin, has proved, in some of its then 
 unthought-of consequences, on the whole, a very 
 great mercy to us. 
 
 Let such reflections as these encourage you, my 
 young friends, for whose admonition and consola- 
 tion this discourse was peculiarly intended, to 
 hope, that as your afilictions are the same, your 
 consolations will also be the same. Let not your 
 heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. Your 
 father and mother are dead, but your heavenly 
 Father can never die. I would willingly hope, that 
 it has been your early care to secure an interest in 
 him ; and I would solemnly charge it upon you, as 
 you value your present peace, or your eternal hap- 
 piness, that it be the great business of your life to 
 keep close to him : and then you may assure your- 
 selves, w ith the most cheerful conlidencc, that he 
 will never fail nor forsake you. 
 
 If therefore your hearts are almost overwhelmed 
 within you, in the melancholy circumstances into 
 which his providence has brought you, fly into his 
 presence, prostrate yourselves before him with 
 humble importunity, and turn your tears of sorrow 
 into tears of devotion. 
 
 " Behold, O most compassionate Father," may 
 
TO THE YOUNG. 
 
 617 
 
 you reasonably and confidently say, " behold, thou 
 hast plunged me even into the depths of distress ; 
 but blessed be thy name, thou hast not left me to 
 sink in them without any support. I have this day 
 received some kind assurances from thy word, and 
 I now entreat thee to remember that word unto thy 
 servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope. 
 My father and my mother have forsaken me : Lord, 
 wilt thou not take me up ? Wilt thou indeed 
 abandon me? Wilt thou add affliction to the 
 afflicted? the insupportable affliction of seeing 
 myself deserted by thee, when I most evidently 
 need thy succour ? That be far from thee, O Lord ! 
 and be the unworthy suspicion far from me ! — I 
 have lost my most prudent and faithful counsellors, 
 but I look unto thee, as the guide of my youth. — I 
 have lost those who were once my guardians and 
 my protectors ; but I come to take shelter under tlie 
 shadow of thy wings. Their eyes are closed, and 
 their mouths are sealed up in death : no longer can 
 they look with compassion on my sorrows ; no 
 longer can their converse cheer or delight me. O 
 may thy compassionate eye regard me, and thy 
 comforts delight my soul ! Permit me, O God! a 
 humble freedom in approaching to thee, and in 
 pouring forth all my heart in thy presence. — My 
 parents are now returned naked to their dust, and, 
 should my wants be ever so pressing, are now in- 
 capable of affording me any relief. May thy rich 
 bounty supply me, thy unwearied providence take 
 care of me ! But, above all, withhold not thy cove- 
 nant blessings, and let me share in that eternal 
 inheritance which thou hast prepared for all thy 
 children in Chrl.st." 
 
 If these be the daily breathings of your souls 
 before him, you have abundant reason to hope that 
 he will return an answer of peace. In all your 
 difficulties he will wisely direct you ; in all your 
 sorrows he will compassionately relieve you ; in all 
 your dangers he will powerfully protect you ; in all 
 your wants he will bountifully supply you ; in a 
 word, you will be conducted safely, and I hope, 
 notwithstanding this gloomy prospect, you wiil be 
 conducted comfortably, through this mortal life, 
 till you come at length to your Father's house in 
 peace. And when you are arrived tliither, and 
 take a view of all the various occurrences of tlic 
 way, you will see apparent reason to acknowledge, 
 what is now so difficult to believe, that the present 
 awful dispensation was sent with a gracious design, 
 and that all the paths of your heavenly Father 
 have been mercy and truth to you. Amen. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 THE REFLECTIONS OF A PIOUS PARENT ON THE DEATH 
 OF A WICKED CHILD, CONSIDERED AND IMPROVED. 
 
 2 Samuel xviii. 33. 
 
 And the king was much moved, and went up to the 
 chamber over the gate, and wept ; and as he went, 
 thus he said, O my son Absalom ! my son, my son 
 Absalom ! would God I had died for thee, O 
 Absalom, my son, my son ! 
 
 As the providence of God calls me this day par- 
 ticularly to address myself to young persons, so the 
 words I have been reading suggest some very awful 
 thoughts, which are well suited to such an occasion. 
 And there is one circumstance, relating to this dis- 
 course, which I cannot forbear mentioning to you, 
 because I hope it may be a means of engaging a 
 more than common attention to it, from the auditory 
 to which I am now speaking.* 
 
 It is this : The substance of the sermon, which I 
 am now to deliver, was drawn up some time ago, at 
 the desire of your late reverend and worthy pastor 
 Mr. Jennings, and preaclied to a society of young 
 persons then under his charge. f The text was 
 chosen by him ; and his tender and obliging care to 
 assist his pupils in their first labours, engaged him 
 to draw the plan of the discourse, and to furnish me 
 with several of the most important thoughts, which 
 I am now to offer. 
 
 So that, I think, I may properly say, that though 
 your eyes will no more sec him, nor your ears any 
 more hear his persuasive voice, which has so fre- 
 quently, and so affectionately, addressed you from 
 this place, yet this day by me, he being dead, yet 
 speaks, speaks to you, young persons ; to many of 
 whom, I fear, he hath often spoken in vain. Let 
 nic, therefore, solemnly charge you by your vene- 
 ration for the memory of so excellent a friend, as 
 well as by the autliority of God, and tlie importance 
 of your eternal interests, tliat you give these things 
 a diligent hearing, a .serious recollection, and a re- 
 ligious regard. And, indeed, if such a subject, 
 introduced by such a circumstance, will not com- 
 mand them all, I can have very little hopes of 
 impressing you, by what I may say in the course of 
 my ordinary ministry amongst you. 
 
 The words of the text arc the pathetic lamenta- 
 tion of good old David, on the dcatli of Absalom ; 
 a favourite but wicked son. His pious father had 
 no doubt given him a religious education ; and it is 
 
 * N, B. Tills .sermon \v;is preaclied at Kibwortli it) Leicestershire, 
 towards llie bepinnin*r <if llie year al)oiit eighteen months after 
 
 tt)e death of ttie Uev. Mr. Jolni .Jennings, wlio had lonj; been minister 
 there, and was author of those excellent discourses on Preaching 
 Christ, and Experimental Preachini^, which have met with such great 
 acceptance at home and abroad. 
 
 + At Hinckley, May 7, 1723. 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 very probaMf, (liat. consideriri!!; the remarkahlc 
 beauty and <;raccl'ulness of his person, lie was ready 
 lo hope, tliat lie would be endowed with \irtuous 
 and holy dispositions of soul, the correspondent 
 beauties of the mind. But these hopes were dread- 
 fully disappointed ; for the darlinfj, the beautiful 
 Absalom proved a murderer and a rebel ; he went 
 in unto his father's (concubines, in the si<;lit of all 
 Israel, and openly attempted to take away the life 
 ef him, from wliom his own was derived, and by 
 ■whose indulgence it had been spared, even when 
 forfeited to justice. Yet, nevertheless, David had 
 such paternal tenderness, as, under all these trying 
 provocations, expressly to order the generals of his 
 army to deal gently with the young man Absalom 
 for his sake. But the righteous vengeance of God 
 determined otherwise, and, notwithstanding all his 
 father's fond precautions, brought him down to tlie 
 grave with infamy and blood. He was snatched 
 away by a violent and very terrible death, in the 
 prime of his days, and the very act of his sin ; and 
 this was the occasion of those moving words, O my 
 son Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ! would 
 God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my 
 son ! 
 
 We may charitably, and I think very reasonably, 
 suppose, that they are not only the expressions of 
 David's natural affection, on the death of a son 
 whom he tenderly loved ; but that they arose from 
 the views of that state on which he entered by death, 
 which must certainly be very dreadful ; so dread- 
 ful, that David, whose eternal interests were secure 
 by the j)romises of an everlasting covenant, would 
 have been willing even by his own death to have 
 delivered him from such complete and such hope- 
 less ruin. 
 
 It will be my business from these M'ords, 
 
 I. To consider the reflections which may natu- 
 rally arise in the mind of a pious parent on the 
 death of a wicked child. And, 
 
 II. To draw some inferences from such a survey. 
 O that all, and especially the degenerate children 
 of religious parents, would attend with a becoming 
 seriousness ! 
 
 I. I am to consider the reflections wliic-h may 
 naturally arise in the mind of a pious parent, on the 
 death of a wicked child. 
 
 I cannot pretend to enumerate them all, or to de- 
 scribe them in such pathetic language as a bleeding 
 heart will speak itself on so sad an occasion ; but 
 probably the chief of them may be such as these: 
 
 1. A pious parent will reflect on such an occasion, 
 that his expectations from his child have been sad- 
 ly disappointed in the past course of his life. 
 
 Parents are apt to flatter themselves with fond 
 hopes from their infant offspring; they look upon 
 them as the blossoms of future delight and support. 
 They comfort themselves under the other burthens 
 
 of life, and the additional cares and labours which 
 a growing family brings upon them, by looking for- 
 ward to future years, and anticipating the pleasures 
 hereafter to arise from the duty, gratitude, and use- 
 fulness, of their children. " But, alas!" will the 
 good man say, " could I have seen what this poor 
 creature would have proved, instead of rejoicing in 
 his birth, I should have mourned over it as a calamity 
 to me and my family. I promised myself other 
 things. My heart trembled for him in the various 
 dangers of infancy and childhood. I congratulated 
 myself on his arrival at a more conflrmed age. But 
 when I looked that this pleasant plant should have 
 brought forth grapes, behold, it brought forth wild 
 grapes. Well did Solomon say, A foolish son is a 
 grief to his father, and bitterness to her that bare 
 him. So, alas, have we found. Oh ! how often 
 has our authority been aftronted, and our love 
 slighted, for a mere trifle ! Or when he was treating 
 us better, what a thorn has it been in our very 
 hearts, to think that our child was in a state of 
 spiritual death, and on the borders of that eternal 
 ruin, into which we have reason to fear he is now 
 fallen. So that with regard to what is past, we have 
 cause to say. Blessed, in comparison of us, are the 
 barren, that never bare, and the breasts that never 
 gave suck." These thoughts will be aggravated, 
 when, in the next place, 
 
 2. The pious parent reflects with concern on the 
 fruitless pains he has taken for the reformation and 
 conversion of his child. 
 
 " He that searches my heart," will the Christian 
 say, " is witness, that, next to its concern for my 
 own salvation, it knows not a more affectionate wish 
 than this, that Christ might be formed in the soul 
 of my children. That how little soever of this world 
 I could give them, they might be the children of 
 God, and the heirs of glory. And with relation to 
 this unhappy creature, I was not entirely wanting 
 in such endeavours as lay in my power. What 
 knowledge of the things of God I myself had, I was 
 willing to communicate to him : I urged them se- 
 riously upon him ; I frequently reminded him of 
 them ; and, to supply the defects of my personal 
 instructions, I put the book of God into his hands, 
 and engaged him in an early and constant attend- 
 ance on public ordinances. When I saw him wan- 
 dering in the paths of folly and sin, I endeavoured 
 to convince him of the fatal consequences of such 
 courses, and in the most afl'cctionafc manner to dis- 
 suade him from them. I have again and again 
 urged him to pray for himself; and I have fre- 
 quently been praying for him. I have desired that 
 he might be remembered in our worshipping assem- 
 blies ; I have borne him on my heart before God in 
 the family and the closet, and God alone knows 
 with what overflowing tenderness. How importu- 
 nately have I pleaded, and how unwilling have I 
 
TO THE 
 
 been to take any denial ! But, alas ! all my prayers 
 and my tears have been like water spilt on the 
 ground ; and in all the endeavours I have been 
 using for his conversion and salvation, I have been 
 . labouring in vain, and spending my time and my 
 strength for nought. Nay, as to him it has proved 
 worse than in vain ; for every instruction, and every 
 correction, every reproof, and every prayer, has ag- 
 gravated his guilt, and increased his misery ; so 
 that, on the w hole, while I thought I was acting the 
 kindest and most affectionate part, I was only trea- 
 suring up for my child aggravated wrath and 
 damnation." But this leads me to add, 
 
 3. That the pious parent, on such an occasion, 
 cannot but deeply reflect on that state of everlast- 
 ing ruin into which he has reason to fear that his 
 child is fallen. 
 
 " Oh !" will the afHicted Christian sa}', " how 
 comparatively light would my sorrows be, if, while 
 I am looking on the breathless corpse, and mourn- 
 ing the disappointment of my hopes as to the pre- 
 sent life, I could by faith look forward to a world 
 of glory, and see the branch of my family which is 
 cut off from earth, transplanted thither, and flourish- 
 ing there: joy would then mingle itself with my 
 parental sorrows, and praises with my tears. But, 
 alas ! I have reason to apprehend it was cut down 
 that it might be cast into the burnings. On the 
 former supposition I might have comforted myself 
 with the thought of meeting my child again, of 
 meeting him on terms of infinite advantage, no 
 more to be separated from him. But now, alas ! 
 I have not only lost my child for a while, but I 
 have lost him for ever ; for the unhappy creature 
 died a stranger to God and Christ, and therefore 
 what can I imagine, but that he has fallen into the 
 hands of divine vengeance? Overwhelming thought ! 
 While he lived, my bowels yearned for him when he 
 was under any aflliction ; when I saw him struggling 
 with illness and pain, I pitied him, and I wept over 
 him. Oh how can I bear to think that he is now 
 tormented in that flame, and that God is pouring 
 forth on him the vials of his wrath! O that the 
 blood of the parent could redeem the soul of the 
 child, how willingly, how gladly, would I part with 
 it ! O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom ! 
 would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my 
 son, my son !" But once more, 
 
 4. The pious parent cannot but be much distressed 
 in such a circumstance as this, at the thoughts of 
 meeting his child at the tribunal of Christ. 
 
 " It would be mournful," may the good man say, 
 " to think that I should see him no more ; yet, as 
 the matter now stands, even that would be some 
 alleviation of my distress ; but the immutable de- 
 crees of God forbid it. I know, that when all the 
 dead, small and great, stand before his throne, I 
 and my child must appear together there ; and oh, 
 
 YOUNG. G19 
 
 what a dreadful interview will it be! When God 
 committed his education to my care, he did, as it 
 were, put his soul into my hands, and at my hands 
 will he require an account of it. And when he 
 comes to make the inquiry, what will the issue be? 
 Will my son accuse me? Or must I be a witness 
 against him ? How terrible an oflice ! to bear my 
 testimony for the condemnation of one whom I ten- 
 derly loved, of one whose soul I would have died to 
 deliver! I know I shall not dare to interpose in his 
 favour, and plead the cause of my Saviour's enemy ; 
 or if I were so far transported by the fondness of a 
 father, I should plead in vain. Sooner, much 
 sooner, would the mountains be removed for me, or 
 the earth carried out of its place, than the sentence 
 of heaven, its final solemn sentence, would be re- 
 pealed. And if it must not be repealed, how shall 
 I bear to hear it pronounced, to see it executed ? to 
 hear my own child separated by an everlasting curse 
 from the presence of the Lord ; to see the ministers 
 of divine wrath hurrying away the helpless creature, 
 and dragging him down to unquenchable burnings? 
 O that, if no shelter must be allowed him, God 
 would hide me in the grave till this tremendous 
 scene of his indignation be overpast ; lest the 
 anguish of a parent mingle itself with the joys of a 
 rising saint, and, to me, overcast the triumphs of the 
 day !" Hardly can a good man refrain from such 
 sentiments as these, though some of them be dic- 
 tated by passion rather than by reason. 
 
 After this survey of the reflections, which such a 
 sad event might naturally produce, I would pro- 
 ceed to draw some inferences from it ; yet I cannot 
 but delay them for a few moments, in compassion 
 to the sorrows of those pious parents, if any such 
 be amongst us, whose case this has been. Arc there 
 any of you. Christians, that experimentally know 
 the anguish of such thoughts as these ? any of you 
 that have thus been mourning over your dead chil- 
 dren, when God has on a sudden called them to his 
 bar, with all their follies and sins on their head, 
 without giving you any probable hope, that his 
 grace had first recalled them to himself, and washed 
 their souls in the blood of a Redeemer ! 
 
 It grieves me, my friends, to have been forced by 
 a sense of duty, as I have now been, so largely to 
 represent a scene which must call up your sorrows 
 afresh. But permit mc to remind you, that, even 
 in this dreadful circumstance, the consolations of 
 God are not small. Your hopes in your children 
 have been sadly blasted ; but you have hopes in 
 God, your heavenly Father, which nothing can 
 shake. You have reason to fear, their souls are 
 lost; but is it nothing to you to reflect, that your 
 own are given you as a prey ? And that, though 
 your house be not so with God, as in this respect 
 you could most aflectionafcly wish it, yet he has 
 made with you an everlasting covenant, ordered in 
 
020 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 all tliinocs, anil sure. As (o these unhappy crea- 
 tures wlio are now lost, you liave indeed laboured 
 in vain, and spent your strength for nought ; but 
 still your work is with the Lord, and your reward 
 with your God ; and you, like the faithful minister, 
 may hope, that you shall be unto God a sweet 
 savour of Christ, not only in thcni that are saved, 
 but even in tlicm that perish. And, as to tlic final 
 interview, which appears so grievous in the pros- 
 pect, remember, that you are not to carry along 
 with you the fond instincts of nature into a world 
 of perfection and glory. All your passions will 
 then be refined ; your wills so entirely resolved into 
 the will of God, and your souls so completely satis- 
 fied with his presence and his love, that no creature- 
 regards will be able to disturb their saered serenity. 
 You will look on the whole assembly of tlie ene- 
 mies of God with so deep an apprehension of the 
 malignity of their character, and of the wisdom and 
 equity of that divine sentence by which they fall, 
 that you will not distinguish any of them from the 
 rest, by the sentiments of a painful compassion. 
 Nor will your concern for those of them. Mho now 
 lie nearest your heart, prevent your concurrence in 
 that song of triumph, so proper to tiie solemnities 
 of that awfiil day: Great and marvellous are thy 
 works, Lord God Almighty ; just and true thy ways, 
 thou King of saints. In the mean time, let the ex- 
 pectation of so happy an improvement in your tem- 
 per moderate the excess of your present sorrows ; 
 and when they are moderated aright, the remainder 
 of tliem will be a sadness of the countenance by 
 which the heart may be made better. And now, 
 
 IL I proceed to draw some inferences from the 
 sad survey we have been taking of the pious parent's 
 reflections on the death of a wicked child. And 
 hence we may infer, 
 
 1. That wicked children are acting a very cruel 
 and unnatural part, while they are exposing their 
 pious parents to such reflections as these. 
 
 I say it with a sorrowful heart, but so it is, that I 
 fear there are several of you, my young friends, 
 who live in the neglect of your own souls, and 
 whose consciences will presently charge it upon 
 you. How soon that awful Being, whom you now 
 forget, may cut off the number of your months in 
 the midst, and add you to the number of the dead, 
 you know not : but this is certain, that if you die 
 as you live, and your parents survive the stroke, 
 they will feel the weight of these terrible reflections ; 
 and even now they cannot but fear them. Doubt- 
 less, if they be present here, their hearts are bleed- 
 ing whilst I speak, and tliey are looking upon you 
 with unknown anguish. And does not the thought 
 grieve you, and does it not shame you ? Ungrate- 
 ful creatures ! are these your returns for all their 
 bounty, for all their tenderness ; to be a sword in 
 their bowels, and to pierce their very hearts ? Alas, 
 
 they did not expect such scenes as these, when yon 
 hung about them with your infant arms; when you 
 answered their fond smiles, and lisped out the 
 first broken accents of endearment. I wonder how 
 you can bear the thought ! I wonder you are not 
 ashamed to be conversing with them daily, and 
 daily receiving new favours from them; while you 
 arc behaving in such a manner that, the belter they 
 love you, the more they must be alilicted and terri- 
 fied for you. O that you would have compassion 
 on them ! or, if this will not move you, O that you 
 would have compassion on yourselves ! for your 
 own interest is still more nearly concerned than 
 theirs. Which leads me to add, 
 
 2. We may further infer, that a dreadful coun- 
 terpart to those reflections will be the portion of the 
 ungodly child. 
 
 Alas, sinners, if your pious parents weep thus for 
 you, how bitterly will you weep for yourselves ! for 
 if these things be done in a green tree, what will be 
 done in the dry ? If they, the children of God, per- 
 haps even then under the smiles of their heavenly 
 Father, and in the near views of their own complete 
 salvation, may utter their griefs in such melting 
 accents, what agonies will take hold of your hearts, 
 when you are actually entered on those scenes of 
 horror and despair to which the righteous vengeance 
 of God has doomed you ? It is impossible fully to 
 describe them ; yet something relating to them we 
 may certainly infer from what has been already 
 said. Give me leave to offer it to your view, if 
 peradventure, through the agency of divine grace, 
 to have heard of these reflections may be the happy 
 means of leading you to escape them. 
 
 Your parents may reflect " on the disappointment 
 of their expectations from you :" but oh, how 
 heavy will the disappointment of your own hopes 
 and expectations then sit upon your souls! How 
 w ill you then bear it, sinners, when you see all your 
 enjoyments and all your prospects blasted in a mo- 
 ment, and irrecoverably lost? 
 
 It is true, you are lifting up your souls unto 
 vanity ; but these vanities are your all. You pur- 
 sue them with the utmost vigour and intenseness of 
 mind, and have a great many fond and chimerical 
 schemes for years of pleasure and happiness yet to 
 come. But if God cut you off in the prime of your 
 life, and in the very flower of your hopes, in that 
 day all your thoughts will perish. And how will 
 you be confounded to see all the beautiful and en- 
 chanted scenes that now charm you to the neglect 
 of God and religion, vanished like the shadowy 
 glories of a dream, and your souls left naked and 
 destitute, upon an inhospitable .shore, where, in all 
 your indigence and distress, there will be no eye to 
 pity you, no hand to relieve you ! 
 
 And it will be so much the more dreadful, as you 
 will go down to these melancholy regions with your 
 
 I 
 
TO THE 
 
 appetites and your passions warm about you, and 
 by frequent indulgence strengthened and inflamed ; 
 so that, for want of their proper objects, they will 
 prey upon your heart, and an insatiable thirst will 
 continue, while you will not have one drop of satisfac- 
 tion or comfort. Nay, I may add, that as, in these 
 unripened days, you have had little experience of 
 the vanities and disappointments of life, and have 
 entertained a great many fond and extravagant 
 hopes of what you would never have found in it, 
 your regret, in being cut olf from them, will not be 
 in proportion to what they really were, but to what 
 your error and folly imagined them to have been. 
 
 Your pious parents will reflect upon it with un- 
 utterable anguish, " that your souls are for ever 
 lost:" but how much more sensibly will you your- 
 selves feel it ! They, in their present situation on 
 earth, can have but a very faint and imperfect no- 
 tion of the horrors of the infernal prison ; for to 
 those we may accommodate the language of the 
 apostle on a very different occasion, and say, that 
 neither has eye seen them, nor ear heard them, nor 
 has it entered into the most terrified heart fully to 
 conceive them. But how will the change affect 
 you, when you are just entered on those realms of 
 woe ; when you look round about you, and think, 
 This is my last abode, my only remaining inherit- 
 ance ! Alas, how will your hearts be overwhelmed 
 when you "compare that place of torment with all 
 the cheerful scenes of the ^forld from whence you 
 came ; where you had been surrounded with so 
 many delights ; where it had been your chief care 
 to make provision for the flesh ; and where you had, 
 perhaps, spent your days in mirth, till in a moment 
 you went down to the grave ! when, instead of the 
 light of the sun, you see nothing but the flames of 
 the divine indignation ; when, instead of all that 
 soothed and regaled your senses, you feel the never- 
 dying worm, and exchange the gay and agreeable 
 companions that did surround you, for the society 
 of devils and damned spirits! 
 
 I appeal to your consciences ; can your hearts 
 endure, or your hands be strong, in such a circum- 
 stance as this ? You, that are so impatient of every 
 little anxiety of life ; you, tliat cannot bear the 
 fatigues of duty, nor the restraints of religion, how 
 will you bear the agonies of damnation ? How will 
 you live in those doleful regions, where joy and 
 cheerfulness are everlasting strangers, and nothing 
 remains but weeping and wailing and gnashing of 
 teeth ? 
 
 Were this to be your case only for a thousand or 
 a hundred years, how miserable would you be! but 
 oh, how much more miserable, when you think, that 
 it is an everlasting destruction ! when your 
 thoughts weary themselves in search of some dis- 
 tant point, where a glimmering of hope may break 
 in upon you, and you go onward, and onward, and 
 
 YOUNG. 621 
 
 onward still, and find nothing but blackness of 
 darkness for ever ! when you feel yourselves plung- 
 ed in a boundless ocean of distress, without a 
 bottom, and without a shore ! Must the smoke of 
 my torments ascend up for ever and ever? Must I 
 lie in tliis infernal prison, till I have paid the utter- 
 most farthing? Surely then I must bear indignation 
 and wrath, tribulation and anguish, as long as an 
 immortal soul can sustain it, as an eternal God can 
 inflict it." 
 
 It is almost insupportable, to think that this 
 should be the case of any of our fellow-creatures. 
 How much more insupportable must it then be, to 
 feel that it is your own ! 
 
 Again, your pious parents will lament, " that all 
 their kind endeavours for your salvation were in 
 vain :" but with what aggravated sorrow and de- 
 spair will you then reflect on those endeavours, and 
 on all the other religious advantages you enjoyed ! 
 
 " Alas I" will you then be ready to say, " if there 
 could be any thought of comfort in the midst of this 
 dark gloom of desolation and horror, it would be to 
 transfer the blame of my ruin upon another. O 
 that I could say, there was some powerful, arbitrary 
 being, by whose irresistible hand I was forcibly 
 borne away, as by a mighty torrent, and swept into 
 this burning gulf! O that I could say, that I was 
 wicked and miserable by a fatal necessity ! But 
 there is not a wretch, amidst all the rage and blas- 
 phemy of such a dwelling as this, who can dare to 
 assert that to have been the case ; how much less 
 then can I assert it ! 
 
 " When I look up," may you justly say, " when 
 I look up to yonder seats of unapproachable glory, 
 from whence I am now cast out, as an abominable 
 branch, why was not my portion there ? Wretch 
 that I am, I was once numbered among the chil- 
 dren of the kingdom ; I was born in Emanuel's 
 land ; I was educated in a religious family : and oh, 
 my parents and my ministers ! how diligently did 
 they instruct me ! how awfully did they admonish 
 me! how tenderly did they expostulate with me ! I 
 had indeed line upon line, and precept upon pre- 
 cept ; and therefore I have now stroke upon stroke, 
 and wound upon wound. The blood of a Redeemer 
 was once offered me as a healing balm, and I de- 
 spised it ; and now it is poured out as a burning 
 corrosive on my bleeding soul. I was once lifted 
 up even to the gates of heaven, and now I am cast 
 down 1o the very centre of hell : I am now looking 
 with envy, and with rage, on the milder torments 
 of Tyre and Sidon, of Sodom and Gomorrah." 
 There, sinner, thou wilt perhaps curse the compas- 
 sionate heart, which is now almost sinking under 
 this necessary representation of thy danger, and 
 those unavailing tears, which one or another of us 
 may now be shedding in the distant views of thy 
 ruin. 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 Yet I must add once luorc, tliat as your pious 
 parents will tremble " at the view of meeting you 
 at the tribunal of God," so the thoughts of such an 
 interview must be insupportably dreadful to you. 
 
 If Satan now draw you from your allegiance to 
 God, and harden your heart to final impenitencj', 
 being partakers of his sins, you will be partakers 
 likewise of his plagues, and like him be reserved in 
 chains of darkness to the judgment of the great day. 
 And how will your haughty hearts brook it, wiicn you 
 are to be brought out to that judgment? Oh, how 
 often will your anxious, foreboding thoughts antici- 
 pate the shame and horror of that dreadful day ! 
 
 " I must stand forth," will you then say, " I 
 must stand forth before my inexorable Judge ; my 
 sin and my folly must be publicly proclaimed be- 
 fore the assembled world, and my parents too must 
 be the witnesses of it. But oh, how shall I be able 
 to lift up my face before them, blackened with the 
 marks of guilt and despair I If I call, will there be 
 any to answer me ; or to which of the saints shall 
 I then turn ? Shall I turn to my parents, and entreat 
 them, by all their former tenderness for the children 
 of their own bowels, to plead with the Judge in my 
 favour, if, perhaps, they may mitigate the rigour of 
 his wrath ? Alas, I know him, and myself, and them 
 too well, to expect any such attempt, or to ask any 
 such favour. Will they not rather stand up as 
 swift witnesses against me, and call for an increase 
 of wrath on my guilty head ? Will not all their 
 former tenderness be turned into stern and awful 
 severity? Will they not upbraid me with their in- 
 structions, their reproofs, their prayers, and their 
 tears ; and applaud the triumphs of the divine 
 vengeance, in the condemnation of so wicked, of so 
 incorrigible, a creature ?" — With these awful remon- 
 strances I dismiss you, and conclude with a re- 
 flection of a more comfortable nature. 
 
 3. From this survey of the reflections of a pious 
 parent on the death of a wicked child, we may 
 certainly infer, that the parents of religious chil- 
 dren have abundant reason for thankfulness. 
 
 They have reason for thankf'tlness, both as they 
 are free from such melancholy reflections and ap- 
 prehensions ; and as a foundation is laid of other 
 views, as full of cheerfulness and joy, as these are 
 of terror and distress. My brethren, I congratulate 
 the happiness of those of you, who can say, through 
 grace, that God has established his covenant with 
 you, and with your seed after you, for an everlast- 
 ing covenant, to be a God unto you, and unto them. 
 It is the joy of my heart, to think how much it must 
 be the joy of yours, to see your cliildren walking 
 in the truth ; and to see them flourisl ing in the 
 courts of your God, as well as growing like olive 
 plants round your own tables ; to see that they have 
 not only escaped the grosser corruptions, which 
 are in the world through lust, but subscribe with 
 
 their hand unto the Lord, and surname themselves 
 by the name of Israel his people. With what sweet 
 tran(|uillity may you look forward to all the uncer- 
 tainties of life and death, for yourselves and for 
 your children, while you have such a joyful per- 
 suasion, that you leave them in the hand of your 
 Father, and of their Father, of your God, and of 
 their God ! 
 
 And give me leave, on so natural an occasion, to 
 address myself to you, my dear friends, from whom 
 the great Sovereign of life has been pleased to take 
 away pious and promising children, by (what we 
 are apt erroneously to call) an immature death. 
 You are ready to say, with a peculiar accent, that 
 you are the persons who have seen aflliction. The 
 images of those lovely creatures rise in your 
 memory on such a hint as this, and crowd into 
 your minds afresh. You saw them growing up, 
 and flourishing under your care ; growing up, per- 
 haps, to ripeness of years, and flourishing in some 
 remarkable degrees of knowledge and of grace. 
 And you fondly promised yourselves, from what 
 you saw in them, that they would not only have 
 been the comfort and delight of your declining, 
 broken age, but the support and honour of the 
 church, when you were here no more : and now all 
 these pleasing prospects are vanished, all these 
 important hopes are buried with their dear dust. 
 
 Nay, perhaps God hath, in this respect, broken 
 you with breach upon breach, has taken away one 
 desirable branch of your family after another, till 
 all the branches are lopped off, and you stand like 
 the naked trunks of trees which were once diffusing 
 a thick and extensive shade. Yes, I am aware, 
 there are some of you, that know the peculiar 
 agony (to all but such as yourselves probably un- 
 known) of following your last child to the grave. 
 I fear, I come too near you, and that some of your 
 wounds are bleeding anew. Would the balm of 
 sympathetic tears administer any relief to them, 
 how easy would it be to pour it out in abundance ! 
 but, in a case like yours, there is a much more 
 efficacious and sovereign relief. 
 
 I am speaking to Christians. You sometimes 
 plead the indications of wisdom and piety, which 
 you discerned in your children as an aggravation of 
 your sorrow for the loss of them : and I acknowledge, 
 in one view, they are indeed so ; but in another 
 view, how greatly do they extenuate it ! 
 
 You saw them, it may be, when they were under 
 a languishing distemper, for some time, as it were, 
 daily dying before your eyes: but did you not like- 
 wise see the divine rod and staff comforting them ? 
 It may be, sometimes to such a degree, that you 
 regretted not so much, that they were going off the 
 stage, as that you were not accompanying them in 
 the same way, and with the same spirit. You heard 
 their expiring groans ; but did you not also hear 
 
TO THE 
 
 some songs of praise mingled with them : perhaps 
 you heard them strengthening their feeble voices, 
 and summoning up all their little remainder of 
 spirits, to say, as from their very soul. My flesh and 
 my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart, 
 and my portion for ever.* And does the recollection 
 afford you no pleasure ? or does your pleasure 
 tenninate even here ? 
 
 Your dear children are now dead to you ; but do 
 you not believe, that they live to God, and live with 
 him ? What if they had been still continued on 
 earth, answering all your schemes, and possessing 
 all that you intended or desired for them ? How low 
 had those services been, and how worthless those 
 possessions, in comparison to the services which 
 they now render, with the riches and glory which 
 they now inherit ! 
 
 Methinks it should be, and surely. Christians, it 
 sometimes is, matter of rejoicing to you, to reflect, 
 that the desolation of your houses is, in some degree, 
 the prosperity and joy of that celestial society, to 
 which you are more intimately allied, than to any 
 thing here : to think, that your families should have 
 been nurseries for heaven, and that God should have 
 honoured you so far, as already to have taken some 
 of your children to minister around the throne of his 
 glory, and so to be the associates of angels in their 
 highest honour and joy. 
 
 And is it not most delightful to think of meeting 
 them again ? Had they still survived, the thoughts 
 of leaving them might have sharpened the pangs of 
 dissolving nature, which now the remembrance of 
 them may moderate. You had left them in an 
 insnaring, calamitous world Tperhaps some of you 
 had left them in circumstances of difficulty and 
 distress. But now all those apprehensions are over ; 
 and what would otherwise have been the stroke of 
 painful separation, will now be the means of ending 
 your separation, and bringing you, once for all, to 
 the embraces of each other. And O, with what 
 mutual congratulations will the converse be renew- 
 ed ; with what delightful overflowings of parental 
 complacency on the one side, and of filial gratitude 
 on the other ! How thankfully will they for ever 
 acknowledge your pious cares and early instruc- 
 tions, to which perhaps, under God, they owe their 
 first religious impressions, and, in some sense, even 
 their present glories ! And in the great day of the 
 Lord, with what unutterable transports of holy joy 
 will you stand forth, and say at once, in the most 
 literal and the most sublime sense. Here are we, 
 and the children that our God hath graciously given 
 us ! 
 
 Surely, when you think of these things, your joys 
 may abundantly counterbalance your sorrows : and 
 
 * Some, into whose liands these discourses will probably fall know 
 that these were not imaginary circumstances; and cannot but remem- 
 ber, they have since attended the death of some of those young persons 
 to whom this sermon was first preached. 
 
 YOUNG.. 623 
 
 I appeal to your own hearts, even in the midst of all 
 this tender distress, whether such a circumstance as 
 yours, supposing it ever so aggravated, be not much 
 more tolerable than that which we have been de- 
 scribing ; of a pious parent bewailing the death of a 
 wicked child, or even looking upon him in life and 
 health under the tyranny of Satan and of sin, and 
 in the probable way to everlasting misery. 
 
 And thus I have finished my meditations on this 
 pathetic and important subject. Let me conclude 
 with my most affectionate prayers to the God and 
 Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of 
 mercies, for all of you to whom the discourse has 
 been addressed. 
 
 May young ones be brought, by the blessed Spirit 
 of God, to know, in this their day, the things that 
 belong to their eternal peace ; that they may apply 
 to Christ for life and salvation, and join themselves 
 to the Lord in an everlasting covenant ! There all 
 our applications to you centre ; there may all your 
 attendances on our ministrations issue ! 
 
 May those, who have been efl'ectually taught this 
 lesson, who are the joy of parents and ministers, 
 and the hopes of the church, as to the rising age, 
 be very deeply sensible of the distinguishing grace 
 of God to them ! may they be spared to rise up in 
 the stead of their parents ! and may they labour 
 with great success, to spread a spirit of seriousness 
 amongst their companions, and to maintain it con- 
 tinually in their own souls ! 
 
 May the pious parents of pious children be suit- 
 ably affected with the goodness of God to them and 
 theirs ! and may the parents of others be stirred up, 
 as they value the souls of their children, and their 
 own comfort and repose, to renew those attempts 
 which have hitherto proved unsuccessful, and to 
 exert the most vigorous efforts, for plucking the un- 
 happy creatures, as brands out of the burning ! 
 
 In a word, may divine grace so cooperate with 
 all, that all of you, according to your different re- 
 lations and characters, may have reason to bless 
 God for those awful thoughts which I have now 
 been laying before you ; that such cutting reflec- 
 tions, as I have so largely described, under the 
 former heads, may never be known by one parent 
 or one child in this assembly, otherwise than by de- 
 scription, by imagination, by reason, and by faith ! 
 never may they be known by heart-rending and 
 overwhelming experience ! On the contrary, may 
 parents and children be mutually growing joys and 
 comforts to each other, in life, and in death, at your 
 appearance before the solemn tribunal of Christ, 
 and throughout all the ages of a glorious eternity ! 
 Amen. 
 
(W4 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 
 VOUTII REMINDED OF AI'l'llOACHING JUDGMILNT. 
 
 Ecclesiastics xi. 9. 
 
 Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thine 
 heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and 
 walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of 
 thine eyes: hut know thou, that^for all these 
 things God will bring thee into judgment. 
 
 My dear young friends ! if it were possible for me, 
 while I am speaking,-, to lay open my whole heart 
 before you, in sucli a manner as that you should be 
 witnesses to every secret sentiment of it with regard 
 to you, I should do it with a great deal of pleasure. 
 You would see a tenderer concern for your present 
 and everlasting welfare than words can express, 
 and a proportionable desire of approving myself 
 your faithful servant for Jesus' sake. I know not 
 how far you may have considered what I have 
 largely laid before you, concerning the importance 
 of the rising generation ; * but I am so thorouglily 
 convinced of this importance, and so impressed 
 with the conviction of it, that there is no part of my 
 public work to which I arise with a greater solici- 
 tude about the success, than I feel when I am thus 
 particularly applying myself to you ; and there is 
 no prayers which I offer to God with greater ear- 
 nestness, than that I may have the joy to see you 
 walking in the truth, a seed to serve the Lord, 
 which shall be accounted to him for a generation. 
 
 This is what I wish and pray with regard to all 
 of you. It is with inexpressible pleasure that I see 
 so evidently, as to many, that my prayers and my 
 labours are not in vain. Many of you are my joy 
 now ; and I trust, through divine grace, will be my 
 crown, in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ at 
 his coming. But would to God there were none of 
 whom I had occasion to say, I stand in doubt of 
 you ! Would to God I could see that spirit of serious 
 piety universally prevailing amongst you, whicli, 
 wherever it doth prevail in young ones, is such a 
 token of good to themselves, to their friends, and 
 to the church of Christ ! 
 
 Where it is otherwise, I look upon you with com- 
 passion and sorrow; but blessed be God, not with 
 despair. I am not without hope tliat God hath 
 purposes of love and grace to serve on many of you ; 
 especially those v.ho have been the ciiildren of so 
 many good instructions and so many prayers, as I 
 have reason to believe many of you are ; and who 
 can tell but this is the day, and this the ordinance, 
 in which these gracious purposes arc to take place? 
 
 I know that the fir.st step to your safety is a sense 
 of your danger. We live in a world so full of snares, 
 
 * Sernion V. 
 
 that tlie righteous scarcely are saved ; and yet I 
 fear some of you have very little apprehension of 
 this danger, very little concern about the whole 
 armour of God, so necessary to preserve you from 
 it. And, therefore, not to give you any vain and 
 groundless alarm, but to produce, if possible, that 
 iioly caution and solicitude of soul which may be 
 tiic happy means of your security and preservation, 
 I am now setting myself to discourse on some of 
 the most awful words, which are any where in the 
 whole book of God, addressed to persons of your 
 age. I hope you will listen to them, and that God 
 will make them as a kind of solemn trumpet, 
 whereby those that are spiritually dead may be 
 awakened ; — so awakened, as that the other trumpet 
 to which they refer, and which will surely awaken 
 your sleeping dust, may be heard, not with sorrow, 
 but with delight. 
 
 It is observable, that Solomon had a great regard 
 to young people in his writings ; and it is an evi- 
 dence of his wisdom that he had so, for youth is the 
 age of discipline. He therefore gives them line 
 upon line, and precept upon precept. Sometimes 
 he soothes, and sometimes he rebukes ; sometimes 
 he beseeches them with paternal tenderness, and 
 sometimes persuades them, as knowing the terrors 
 of the Lord ; and saves them as with fear, pluck- 
 ing them out of the fire. And this he doth in the 
 words I have now been reading : Rejoice, O young 
 man, in thy youth, and let thine heart cheer thee 
 in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of 
 thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but 
 know thou, that for all these things God will bring 
 thee into judgment. 
 
 It will be my business — to explain, and — to en- 
 force the caution, and then — to conclude with some 
 reflections upon it, May the plain but awful 
 things I am to deliver be, as the words of the wise 
 are, like goads, to pierce and rouse your minds, and 
 like nails fastened in a sure place by the skilful 
 masters of assemblies, which being given out from 
 the one great Sliepherd, are succeeded by his grace, 
 and improved to his glory ! 
 
 I. I am to explain the words I have been reading. 
 
 And, in order to fix the sense of them, I shall 
 only observe, that some understand them, as inti- 
 matiiig Solomon's readiness to allow young people 
 in the innocent pleasures and gaieties of life ; 
 whilst others interpret the whole as a solemn and a 
 lively warning of the great danger they were in, of 
 running into the most fatal excess. I shall in a few 
 words give you my reasons, both why I mention 
 the former, and why I prefer the latter of these 
 senses. 
 
 I . Some understand these words, as an intimation 
 of Solomon's readiness to indulge young people in 
 all the innocent entertainments of life. 
 
 They paraphrase the words in a soft and easy 
 
TO THE 
 
 manner, as if he had said : " Do not imagine, O 
 young man, that I give thee lessons of morality and 
 piety in a gloomy humour, or with any rigorous 
 and unkind design. Far from desiring to lay thee 
 under any unnecessary restraint, I rather exhort 
 thee to rejoice in the days of thy youth, those best 
 days, in which the spirits are brisk and lively, and 
 all the powers of nature in their most vigorous 
 state. Let thine heart then cheer thee : wear an 
 habitual smile upon thy countenance, and indulge 
 that gaiety which is so natural to the spring season 
 of life ; so natural, and indeed so decent. Walk 
 in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine 
 eyes. Seek out every innocent object of amuse- 
 ment ; gratify thy genius, thy temper, thy relish, in 
 all the particularities of it; provided only that 
 thou dost still remember thy future account, ac- 
 knowledging God in thy ways, and guarding against 
 every abuse of his goodness, every thing that would 
 on the whole be offensive to him, and detrimental 
 to thyself." 
 
 My brethren, I readily own, that there is nothing 
 in this paraphrase of the words which is unbecom- 
 ing the piety and wisdom of the author, and that 
 he has, in eifect, said the same in several passages 
 of this very book. There is hardly a sentiment 
 which he more frequently repeats than this. There 
 is nothing, says he, in express words, again and 
 again, there is nothing better for a man than that 
 he should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of his 
 labour. It is good and comely for one to eat and 
 drink, and to enjoy the good of all his labour that 
 he taketli under the sun ; for it is his portion, and 
 a heart to rejoice in it is the gift of God. Go thy 
 way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine 
 with a merry heart : let thy garments be always 
 white, and thine head lack no ointment. And once 
 more, I recommend mirth, because a man hath no 
 better thing under the sun, than to eat and drink, 
 and to be merry. The sense of which, if we would 
 find a sense worthy of the author, must, no doubt, 
 be this, " that religion is far from forbidding a 
 cheerful use of the enjoyments of life ; and that 
 without such a use they are given to the possessor 
 1 in vain :" who indeed can otherwise hardly be 
 called the possessor, but rather the steward and 
 purveyor for the next heir, who may perhaps be as 
 profuse as his predecessor was penurious and in- 
 satiable. 
 
 And I hope you will not imagine, that in what I 
 have further to say I intend any thing inconsistent 
 with these observations and advices. To be devout, 
 and to be melancholy, are two very different things ; 
 and the greatest enemies of religion could not call 
 it by a more invidious and unjust name, than a 
 walking mournfully before the Lord of hosts. In- 
 stead therefore of dissuading you from a life of true 
 pleasure, I would rather direct you to it ; and only 
 2 S 
 
 YOUNG. 025 
 
 urge you to despise that which is visionary and 
 mean, and to secure that which is solid and noble : 
 in a word, to decline no delights which will not in- 
 terfere with others much more valuable, none which 
 will not be mingled with regret, or followed by a 
 lasting anguish, a thousand times more than an equi- 
 valent for them. And so far as these precautions will 
 admit, I will venture to say, even in this sense. Re- 
 joice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart 
 cheer thee in the days of thy youth. Nevertheless, 
 I am well persuaded this is not, and cannot be, the 
 original sense of the words ; and therefore add, 
 
 2. They are rather to be understood as an awful 
 and lively caution to young persons, to be upon 
 their guard against those gratifications whereby 
 conscience might be wounded, and God disho- 
 noured. 
 
 I suppose, with the general stream of commenta- 
 tors, that the words arc an ironical way of express- 
 ing, in a more pointed and lively manner, the very 
 contrary to what they seem literally to speak ; like 
 that speech of Elijah concerning Baal, when he 
 said, Cry aloud, for he is a god ; or that of Micaiah 
 to Ahab, Go up to Ramoth-Gilead, and prosper ; 
 or that of our Lord to his disciples. Sleep on now, 
 and take your rest: to which, I suppose, we may 
 add that saying of God concerning Adam after his 
 fall. Behold, the man is become as one of us, to 
 know good and evil. Tiius do these words most 
 strongly forbid what they seem to allow, and are as 
 if he had said, " Thou poor thoughtless creature, 
 who in this giddy intoxication of youth art so madly 
 bent upon sensual pleasure, take thy fill of it, and 
 withhold not thine heart from any joy. Follow all 
 the most impetuous appetites of nature, and wan- 
 tonly bound over every restraint of reason and 
 piety ; trample on the admonition of all thy teachers, 
 shake off the fetters of a strict education, and burst 
 the bonds of religion, like threads of flax when they 
 arc touched by the flame. But think not, O sinner, 
 that thou shalt always carry it ofl" with that haughty 
 triumph ; know, that as thou hast thy day, God will 
 also have his : a day of strict account, and of ample 
 recompence. Know, that for all these things God 
 will bring thee into judgment ; and if thou canst 
 find out no expedient to conceal thee from an all- 
 seeing eye, or to defend thee from an omnipotent 
 hand, a deluge of wrath will bear thee away to 
 everlasting destruction. Dearly shalt thou then 
 pay for every present indulgence, and every sweet 
 morsel sliall then be turned bitter, and be as the 
 gall of asps within thee." 
 
 This, I say, appears to be the evident meaning of 
 these words. And that for this plain reason ; that 
 some of the phrases made use of are such as arc 
 never taken in a good sense, and therefore cannot 
 admit the former interpretation. Solomon doth in- 
 deed, as you have heard, exhort his readers to eat 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 and (hink, aiul cnjoj tlic good of theii labours ; 
 hut where can you lind him, or any other saered 
 writer, exhortingf or allowing men to walk in the 
 way of their heart, and in the sight of their eyes ? 
 I am sure that phrase generally signifies an indul- 
 gence to the irregularities of appetite and i)assion, 
 in tlie neglect of reason and of Scripture. Thus 
 (he Israelites arc charged to wear fringes on their 
 garments, that they might remember all the com- 
 mandments of the liOrd, and do them ; and might 
 not seek after their own heart and their own eyes ; 
 that is, (as it follows,) that they might not go a 
 whoring from God after those gay and luxurious 
 idolatries, which regaled the senses, while they de- 
 bauched the soul. And thus the wicked Israelite, 
 whom God would separate to evil out of all the 
 tribes, is repicscnted as vainly and arrogantly say- 
 ing, I shall have peace though I v. alk in the imagin- 
 ation of mine heart ; that is, (as it follows,) to add 
 drunkenness to thirst, or one riot to another. And 
 once more ; to judge after the sight of the eyes, 
 is a proverbial expression, to signify partial and 
 corrupt judgment. We have no reason therefore 
 to imagine, that Solomon would vary the signiii- 
 cation of a phrase already so expressly fixed in 
 some of the sacred writings, which he was himself 
 obliged not only to read, but to transcribe, as he 
 undoubtedly did on his accession to the throne ; 
 where be had also read it again and again, that the 
 imagination of man's Iteart is only evil from his 
 youth ; and he had himself elsewhere said, that 
 foolishness is so closely bound up in the heart of a 
 child, that not only words of admonition, but the 
 rod of correction, is necessary to drive it away. To 
 these general remarks on the usual signification of 
 the phrases occurring here, we may also further 
 add, that the connexion of these words would lead 
 US to understand them as an ironical rather than a 
 serious concession, since tliey conclude with what 
 seems a very awful menace; But know thou, tl-at 
 for all these things God will bring thee into judg- 
 ment : as if he should have said, " Assure thyself, 
 thou must answer for all." Which sense is further 
 illustrated by what follows in the last verse of this, 
 and tlie first of the next, chapter: [which are very 
 unhappily divided from each other, as several other 
 passages are, which have indeed a very close and 
 necessary connexion :] Therefore remove sorrow 
 from thy heart ; (i. c. the regret which would follow 
 these sensual indulgences, if thou walk in the way 
 of it,) and put away evil from thy flesh, (i. e. those 
 carnal pleasures which religion forbids, or those 
 punishments they would certainly draw down upon 
 thee,) for childhood and youth are vanity; and 
 remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youtli, 
 instead of sacrificing them to vanity and folly. 
 You easily sec, there is a beautiful and lively oppo- 
 sition between the several parts of the period on 
 
 this interpretation, which on the other must be 
 mucli injured, if not entirely destroyed. 
 
 I would further observe, that the judgment to 
 which Solomon here refers, must undoubtedly be 
 that of a future state ; since he had expressly assert- 
 ed above, that here all things come alike to all; 
 and no man knovveth either love or hatred, (i. e. 
 the favour or displeasure of the Divine Being,) by 
 ail that is before them ; that there is a wicked man 
 to whom it happeneth according to the event of the 
 righteous ; and, on the other hand, many a righteous 
 man to whom it. happeneth according to the event 
 of the wicked ; i. c. thai very bad men often prolong 
 their lives tlnough a long series of prosperity, while 
 good men are cut off by an untimely stroke, or 
 linger out their days in a painful succession of 
 sorrows. This led liim to conclude, Surely God 
 will judge the righteous and the Avickcd ; which in 
 many of these eases could only be done in some 
 invisible state, to which both should be reserved. 
 And of this judgment he solemnly warns the young 
 sinner, as a most powerful antidote against the baits 
 of sensuality ; as an awful thought, which might 
 fix the most roving eye, and be a means of reducing 
 the most ungoverned heart to the discipline of 
 wisdom and piety. 
 
 As I conclude that this sense of the words is now 
 sufficiently illustrated and established, I proceed, 
 
 II. To enforce the admonition by such consider- 
 ations, as are expressly suggested in the text, or 
 may naturally arise from it. 
 
 I importunately beg your serious attention ; for 
 I say not these things either to grieve or to shame 
 you, but as my beloved brethren and children, I 
 warn you. And here let me prevail upon you to 
 consider, — the depravation and corruption of your 
 own hearts, — the many delusive charms which are 
 continually offering themselves to your eyes; — 
 consider, that the blessed God is now the spectator 
 of your conduct, — that he will certainly bring you 
 to an account for it, — -an account which will be in- 
 expressibly strict and awful. These are the argu- 
 ments, which I shall more largely enforce ; and if 
 they make no deep impression on your mind, there 
 is the utmost reason to fear, that you will go on 
 hardened in your evil ways, till you actually come 
 to that tribunal which you now forget or despise. 
 
 1. Think of the depravation and corrui)li()n of 
 your own hearts, to deier you from walking in the 
 ways of them. 
 
 The heart of man is described by that (iod who 
 alone perfectly knows it, as deceitful above all 
 things, and desperately wicked. The imagination 
 of it is, by him, said to be only evil, and that con- 
 tinually. It is a very sad truth, though perhaps 
 you have never .seriously considered it, that a 
 degenerate and corrupted nature is conveyed 
 down from one generation of men to another, so as 
 
TO THE 
 
 still to leave room — for that expostulation of Job, 
 What is man that he should be pure, and how can 
 he be clean that is born of a woman ? — for that con- 
 fession of David, Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, 
 and in sin did my mother conceive me ! — for that 
 declaration of the apostle, whether in his own 
 name, or that of another, In me, that is, in my flesh, 
 there dwelleth no good thing. If you know not 
 the plague of your own heart, it is a plain argument 
 that you know little of God, or of yourselves ; and 
 j'ou had need be seriously reminded of it, lest, with 
 Solomon's fool, you should trust it, and the blind 
 lead the blind, till you fall into the pit of destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 Do you not know the degeneracy and corruption 
 of your own hearts ? I beseech you to review what 
 has passed there. Think of the advantages which 
 you have enjoyed for knowing and serving God ; of 
 all the mercies you have received, of all the instruc- 
 tions you have heard, of all the convictions you 
 I have sometimes felt, and of all the good resolutions 
 I you have probably formed in consequence of them. 
 
 And then think, how little all this hath produced ; 
 ] how you have forgotten God, days and times with- 
 ! outnumber, and started back from him like a deceit- 
 ful bow; how you have been delivered over, in a 
 foolish circle, from one vanity to another, v. earied 
 with the pursuit of trifles, and yet rising, after a 
 little respite, to pursue them again. Think, ray 
 \ friends, how you have overborne the dictates of 
 your own consciences, and grieved the Holy Spirit 
 ' of God, vi hen he hath been pleading with you in thn 
 most importnnafe manner, and saying unto you, Oli 
 ' do not this abominable thing that I hate. Yet you 
 ' have done it, and sacrificed the repose of your ow.i 
 ' minds, and the hopes of glory, to mean, vile con- 
 ' siderations, which you would be ashamed to hear 
 ' mentioned before an assembly. And this not in one 
 I iiiStance, but again and again. Yon have forme ! 
 ' good purposes^ and broken them ; and formed Ihem 
 again, and broken them again ; and run such a 
 round of folly and sin, that I am persuaded many of 
 i you could not have suspected yourselves of such a 
 I conduct some time ago, nor have believed, if one 
 ' had told you, that yon should act such a part. 
 And must these treacherous hearts still be trusted, 
 and will you go on to walk in the ways of them ; 
 ' when they have already led you into so much sin, 
 I when they have already plunged you into so much 
 distress ? 
 
 9. Think liow many delusive charms arc daily 
 offering themselves to your eyes, that you may not 
 lieedlessly walk in the sight of them. 
 
 Remember, Sirs, I beseech you, that you arc in a 
 very dangerous situation, and walk among snares. 
 I The most mortal poisons are often mingled with the 
 sweetest dainties, and the most dangerous enemies 
 of our souls accost us in the fairest fo'.-.ns. The 
 2 s 2 
 
 YOUNG. G27 
 
 fruit whicii undid our common mother, and biouglit 
 death and a curse upon us all, was a fruit which 
 appeared to be good for food, and which she saw to 
 be pleasant to the eyes. 
 
 It is an awakening saying of one of the most 
 lively and patlictic, as well as of the. most pious, 
 writers which our age has produced,* " That the 
 condition of man in his natural state seems to be 
 like that of a person sick of a variety of diseases, 
 knowing neither his distemper nor cure, but un- 
 happily inclosed in a place where he could hear, or 
 see, or taste, or feel nothing, but what tended to 
 inflame his disorder." 
 
 Not that the world in its original constitution, 
 and considered as the work of God, is by any means 
 to be blamed. The whole system of it is such, as 
 would lead a regular mind to wise and pious reflec- 
 tions ; and its most pleasurable scenes would be 
 the natural occasion of exciting correspondent gra- 
 titude and devotion to the great Author of every 
 good and perfect gift. But our souls being cor- 
 rupted, those things become dangerous to us, which 
 might otherwise have been innocent, and even 
 beneficial ; as some of the most wholesome and 
 nourishing foods are fatal to a person inflamed with 
 a raging fever. 
 
 I am persuaded, that nothing is so likely to make 
 us truly wise, as observations on facts : let me there- 
 fore beseech you, my young friends, seriously to 
 consider how many, within the compass of- your 
 own knowledge, have been ruined by the blandish- 
 ments of the senses ; and, perhaps, some of them 
 persons, in other respects, of no eohtemptible cha- 
 racters. We may indeed say of the world, that 
 specious harlot. She hath east down many wounded, 
 and many strong men have been slain by her. Do 
 not, therefore, walk in the sight of your eyes, lest 
 you also be like the bird, that, .struck with some 
 gay promising appearance, hasteneih eagerly to the 
 snare, and knowetli not that it is for his life. But 
 endeavour to open the eye of the mind, and by faith 
 tobeho!d the great realities of the invisible v.orld, 
 that you may govern your lives with a regard to 
 them, and so secure, not tlie deceitful forms, but the 
 substance, of true happiness. 
 
 3. Let me seriously remind you, that the blessed 
 God is the spectator of all your conduct. 
 
 Tliis is strongly implied, though it be not Ci- 
 pressed, in the text : For all these things God will 
 bring thee into judgment ; and you cannot surely 
 imagine, that he is like earthly judges, who must' 
 have recourse to witnesses, to inform them of w hat 
 they vvould otherwi.'^e be ignorant. He is not, he 
 cannot be, far from any one of us, seeing in him v/c 
 live, and move, and have our being. Nor can we 
 be concealed frotn his eye, should we fly on the 
 wings of the morning, and with the swiftness of 
 
 " L.1W, on Cliristhin Pcrfictioii, fiigc 11. 
 
(i-28 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 liglit, to the Httciniost oiuls of the earth : for his 
 liand must leail us tliitlier, and his right hand sup- 
 port us tlicre. Remember this, my friends, he sees 
 you wlien you overlook him ; sees himself ncf;lected 
 by you, and his laws violated, and his grace de- 
 spised. And all for what ! You have reason to 
 blush and be confounded, when you think of tliat ; 
 for every vanity that offers itself to your pursuit, 
 for trifles lighter than air, for which you would not 
 violate the common rules of decency to a fellow- 
 creature. As if it were to be taken for granted, 
 that his favour is a thing of no consequence, or that 
 nothing can forfeit it. O, Sirs, he hears me while I 
 am speaking to you ; and sees, perhaps, that some 
 of you hardly give me an attentive hearing. He 
 observes how many admonitions are despised by 
 you, how many convictions are overborne, how 
 many vows are broken, how many vain words are 
 spoken to him, in those formalities which you call 
 your devotions ; and, perhaps, with regard to some 
 of you, I may add, how many bold words are spoken 
 against him, when those mouths are set against tlie 
 heavens, whose tongues have walked through the 
 earth. All those slights of religion, which, for 
 want of understanding, you may be ready to call 
 wit ; all that licentious contempt which you throw 
 on his sacred word and ordinances, and fancy it is 
 freedom of thought. You may go on, and presume 
 upon it, that your lips are your own ; but I must 
 tell you, that tlie Lord hearkens and hears, and a 
 book of remembrance is written for you likewise ; 
 — a book, which will another day be thrown open, 
 and read to you with a voice of vengeance and ter- 
 ror: which leads me to urge you, 
 
 4. To tliink how certain the judgment of God is, 
 and your own personal appearance before him. 
 
 You know, there is not any doctrine of the gos- 
 pel more plain and evident than this. That every 
 one of us must give an account of himself to God ; 
 and indeed it was a doctrine of the Jewish revela- 
 tion, and even of the wiser heathens : but I would 
 desire you particularly to observe, how strongly it 
 is expressed in the words of the text. Know thou, 
 that God will bring thee into judgment! Thee, O 
 young man, thee, O child, whoever thou art that 
 hearest me this day, to thee is the word of this ad- 
 monition sent, God will bring thee into judgment. 
 His trumpet will sound, his tribunal will be set ; 
 thou wilt be summoned, and thou must obey. In 
 vain will be every attempt to conceal thyself, or to 
 excuse or dispute an immediate attendance. He 
 will bring tliee ; his liand will be strong upon thee, 
 infinitely too strong for thy feeble resistance. And 
 therefore the assembly of the whole world before 
 him is beautifully described, by driving together a 
 flock of sheep or of goats. Bear witness, O sinner, 
 and let thy conscience record it, I warn thee of this 
 solemn, this dreadful, day. I tell thee, that as surely 
 
 as thou art now in the house of God, thou shalt 
 then be standing before his bar. And how will you 
 stand ? Look you to that. We are to give the 
 warning, and knowing the terrors of the Lord, are 
 to persuade men. Hear now therefore this admo- 
 nition for yourselves, and know it for your good. 
 Consider this, ye that forget God, lest he tear you 
 in pieces, and there be none to deliver. And to 
 increase the weight and efficacy of the thought, re- 
 flect, once more, 
 
 5. How strict and awful this judgment will be. 
 For all these things God will bring tiiee into judg- 
 ment ; which naturally implies, that it will be par- 
 ticular and final. 
 
 Every particular will be reviewed. All these 
 things ; or, as it is yet more strongly expressed 
 elsewhere, every work, and every secret thing, 
 whether it be good, or whetlicr it be evil. He hath 
 sworn by himself, that he will not forget any of thy 
 works. Poor thoughtless creatures ! you some- 
 times conceal your irregularities from parents and 
 masters, or others to whom you are accountable ; 
 you disguise them in so artful a manner, or form 
 such excuses for them, as may impose upon men : 
 and you value yourselves on the dexterity with 
 which you do it. But be not deceived, God can- 
 not be thus mocked. For all these things, and a 
 thousand times more than you can remember ; 
 actions, and words, and thoughts of vanity, which 
 passed with you unobserved in the crowd, or, if at 
 all observed, were forgotten in a moment ; for all 
 these will he reprove thee, and set them in order 
 before thine eyes, i. e. he will marshal them in 
 dreadful array, as a host of enemies armed for thy 
 destruction. Have you never seen a criminal at 
 the bar, how he is confounded, when the force of 
 evidence bears him down, and the sagacity of a 
 judge detects the idle, foolish pleas, with which he 
 flattered himself before his trial, and imagined he 
 should easily come ofi' with impunity ? Then did 
 you see an emblem of yourselves, and your own 
 state ; thus will you, if you go on in your sins, be 
 entangled and silenced, and shamed and con- 
 demned. All your crimes will be produced, in all 
 their circumstances of aggravation. Nor will God 
 forget this present admonition and expostulation, 
 though you may forget it, or though you should 
 remember it only in scorn, and wonder what oc- 
 casion there is for all this earnestness and impor- 
 tunity. You may, if you please, make a jest of 
 divine judgment; but you will find it dreadfully 
 serious. Nothing so easy, as to despise it; but, 0 
 sinner, nothing so hard, as to endure it : for I add. 
 
 It will be a final doom, and your eternal state 
 will be fixed by it. It is no light crime of which 
 you will then be convicted ; no less than wilful, 
 obstinate, incorrigible rebellion against the Majes- 
 ty of heaven, against the God of your lives, and the 
 
TO THE 
 
 Father of all your mercies ; ami it will be no light 
 punishment to which you will be consigned, for 
 following the way of your heart, and the sight of 
 your eyes, in opposition to all the authority of his 
 law, and all the methods of his recovering grace. 
 
 Read over the sentence, as recorded from the lips 
 of him by whom it is to be pronounced. There is 
 but one for those on the left hand, and hearken to 
 it : Depart from me, ye cursed : — sinner, thou must 
 be separated from God. But that perhaps you can 
 bear ; it is but calling him by some bold name ; it 
 is but dressing him up in your imagination under 
 some false odious character, and you may perhaps 
 think it is best to be at a distance from him. 
 Wretched creature ! but thou must depart, as 
 accursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the 
 devil and his angels. And canst thou reconcile thy 
 mind to that? To dwell for ever in darkness and 
 horror, in such a scene, and with such associates ! 
 To have nothing to entertain the eye, nothing to 
 cheer the heart, nothing to divert painful reflection, 
 nothing to allay the most cutting remorse ! To see 
 every pleasurable object, for which you forgot God, 
 and sold yourselves to destruction, removed to an 
 eternal distance ; to feel all the irregular passions 
 of your own hearts let loose at once, like so many 
 hungry vultures to prey insatiably upon them ; and 
 hope, the last of supports under the last of evils, 
 shut out for ever ! — Oh, Sirs, this is the result of the 
 judgment of God. Lo, this is the portion of the 
 wicked, and this the heritage appointed to him by 
 God. It is a grief to a tender heart to think of it, 
 to hear the very report. Oh ! w hat will it be to you 
 to meet it and feel it, in all its force and all its 
 terror ? Can your heart endure, or can your hands 
 be strong, ia the day that God shall deal with 
 you ? 
 
 Alas, my heart is pained for you, and my bowels 
 yearn over you ! Methinks I see all the haughtiness 
 of your spirits broken, see you pale and trembling 
 on the very brink of that pit, from whence there is 
 no redemption, and into which the flaming sword 
 of divine justice is driving you. And can nothing 
 be done to save you ? Alas, what should be done ? 
 
 ' Can any rescue you from the hand of Omnipotence ? 
 Can any intercede for you with that then inexorable 
 Judge? It cannot be. But he is not yet inexorable. 
 He has not yet laid aside the character of a Saviour, 
 of a compassionate friend to perishing creatures. 
 And I present these things to persuade you, if pos- 
 sible, in this your day, to know the things that be- 
 long to your peace, before they be for ever hid from 
 
 , your eyes. May divine grace eflcctually do it ; and 
 teach you so to judge yourselves, that you may not 
 then be condemned of the Lord ! And now, 
 
 III. It only remains, that I conclude this dis- 
 course with some plain inferences from it. And 
 here, 
 
 YOUNG. G-29 
 
 1. The young sinner has surely a great deal of 
 reason to be thankful, that he hath not alreadj- 
 been brought into judgment. 
 
 You have indeed the greatest cause to say, it is 
 of the Lord's mercy that you are not consumed. 
 Your breath is in your nostrils ; and perhaps you 
 can recollect times and circumstances, in which it 
 seemed just ready to take its flight, when you ap- 
 peared to be in the extremest danger, so that there 
 was but a step between you and death. And what 
 if that little interval had been passed ? where had 
 you then been ? how low had you then fallen ? Why, 
 it is most certain, as to some of you, that had you 
 been thus cut off, the torrent had swept you away 
 into eternal ruin. Even now, while we are wor- 
 shipping God in his house, rejoicing in mercy and 
 hope, your miserable spirits had been in the regions 
 of the damned, feeling more than mortal language 
 can express, and fearing yet more, much more, than 
 you felt ; being, like the apostate angels, reserved 
 in everlasting chains, under darkness, unto the 
 judgment of the great day. Adore the divine 
 patience and forbearance, that your case is so differ- 
 ent ; for most happily different it is. I have the 
 pleasure to testify to you this day, in the midst of 
 all these terrible things which faithfulness to your 
 souls extorts from me, that the Lord waiteth that he 
 may be gracious, and does, as it were, raise himself 
 up that he may have mercy upon you : he rises 
 from his throne to stretch out the golden sceptre to 
 you, to open his compassionate arms to embrace 
 you, if you approach him as humble penitents. 
 Jesus the judge will become your friend ; he will 
 receive you, he will shelter you and bless you ; if, 
 with believing hearts, you seek his mercy, after hav- 
 ing so long dared his vengeance. This day do I 
 testify, that he is ready to bestow upon you far 
 more valuable pleasures than those which he calls 
 you to resign, and to give you much greater satis- 
 faction in contradicting the corruptions of your 
 heart, and controlling the impulse of your senses, 
 than you ever have found, or could possibly find, 
 in gratifying them. May you be persuaded to the 
 wise and happy exchange ! Then will the patience 
 of God be salvation to you, when his goodness leads 
 you to repentance. 
 
 2. The young Christian hath apparent reason to 
 be thankful for that grace, which hath sanctified 
 his heart, and turned away his ^yes f^om beholding 
 vanity. 
 
 My brethren in the Lord, permit mc to remind 
 you, that you were sometimes foolish and disobe- 
 dient, serving divers lusts and pleasures ; but there 
 is now room for us to congratulate you, and say, 
 Blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your cars, 
 for they hear. You now know your true interest ; 
 the fear of the Lord is implanted in your heart, and 
 your eyes arc directed heavenwards. You are ex- 
 
C30 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 periiuciilall^ acquainted \\ 'nh (he pleasure \\iiicli 
 relig'ion brings, and sec tliat you have exehanj;ed 
 jour tinsel for gold; your shadows for the most 
 valuable substance ; the momentary blaze and 
 crackling of thorns, for the steady light, and in- 
 llucncc, and glory of the sun, which is shining more 
 and more till tlic perfect day. 
 
 Let me invite you to tlie njost cheerful acknow- 
 ledgments of the riches of divine grace to you. 
 Eiess God for the new nature he hath given you ; 
 for that heart of flesh into which the rock is trans- 
 formed by a new-creating power; for those new 
 hopes which he hath opened upon you. Bless him, 
 that you are now sheltered from the storms of divine 
 wrath, and that, instead of looking forward to tlie 
 judgment-day, with the horrors of a malefactor, who 
 is then to be condemned and executed, you are 
 ratlier lifting up your heads to meet the prospect 
 with triumph, as knowing that your complete salva- 
 tion will then be manifested, and your redemption 
 be perfected. 
 
 3. We may further infer, from what we have now 
 been hearing, that the gospel of the blessed Jesus 
 gives us very great advantages for reclaiming young 
 persons from the snares of sensuality and ruin. 
 
 The text abundantly intimates the importance of 
 those considerations, which are taken from the final 
 judgment. Now it is certain, the gospel discovers 
 this in the strongest liglit. Therein is the wrath of 
 God revealed against all ungodliness and unrighte- 
 ousness of men ; and some more awful views of 
 judgment are given, than even the laiiguage of the 
 prophets, empliatical as it is, can furnish o-it. In 
 the gospel, we are not only told in general, that God 
 will judge the world in righteousness, but particu- 
 larly assured, that he will do it by that man whom 
 he hath appointed, even the Lord Jesus Christ, who 
 for that purpose shall descend from heaven, in his 
 own glory, and the glory of the Father, and all the 
 holy angels with him ; that the trumpet shall sound, 
 and the dead shall be raised ; that small and great 
 shall stand before God ; while in the mean time 
 the world is in flames around them, the sun being 
 darkened, and tlie moon not giving her light, the 
 stars falling, the heavens passing away with a great 
 noise, the elements melting with fervent heat, the 
 earth with all things in it being burnt up, and 
 departing out of its place. And can any thing be 
 more awakening and awful than all this pomp of 
 horror, this conflagration and confusion of nature ? 
 Yes, Sirs, there is one thing yet more awakening ; 
 and it is that w liich the gospel expressly pronounces, 
 that, in consequence of all, the wicked shall go 
 away into everlasting punishment, and the righteous 
 into life eternal. Eternity, eternity, my brethren, is 
 the declaration of the gospel. Nature might lead 
 us to suspect it, the law might give some intimation 
 of it, but the gospel alone asserts it ; and not only 
 
 asserts it, but describes it too. It lends to our faith 
 that i)crspective by which we descry the paradise 
 of God, and it lays hell open before us, so that 
 destruction hath no covering. The Christian 
 preacher nuiy then say it, with an energy beyond 
 what Solomon could conceive, merely on tlie prin- 
 ciples of the Jewisli revelation, Rejoice, O young 
 man, in thy youth, !vc. but know thou, that for all 
 these things God will bring thee into judgment. 
 
 Nor must I by any means omit that grand ad- 
 vantage which the gospel gives us in these ad- 
 dresses, by the discovery of the blessed Jesus under 
 the character of a Saviour. It displays him as the 
 chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely; 
 as inviting, as waiting, as pleading, as weeping 
 over sinners, yea, as bleeding and dying for tliem : 
 as describing the terrors of judgment, that he may 
 awaken them to (lee from it, and may gather them 
 as a hen gathers her chickens under her compas- 
 sionate protecting w ings. But is this a simile that 
 we may use, when speaking of him who is to appea 
 under the character of " the worthy Judge eternal?" 
 Yes, my friends, low as it may seem, it is a simile 
 that he himself uses, and perhaps uses it in part 
 because it is so low, that the language itself may 
 be a specimen of that condescension which it is 
 intended to express. 
 
 Such is that wonderful contrast of what is mos'^ 
 awful, and most engaging, in the gospel ; and thi 
 gospel, Sirs, do you daily hear. To you is the word 
 of this salvation sent ; to you is the whole counsel 
 of God declared. May you never be left to rejec' 
 it against yourselves, but may divine grace rende 
 it a savour of life unto life ! Once more ; 
 
 4. We may further infer, that the serious thoughts 
 of death must be very useful to young persons, 
 since judgment is so nearly connected with it. 
 
 It is appointed unto all men once to die, and 
 after death the judgment; and though the final 
 solemnity of that judgment may be delayed to 
 distant ages, the state of the soul is in a moment 
 unalterably fixed : and, in this sense, as the tree 
 falls, so it must lie, for there is no device nor 
 working in the grave. 
 
 Now, as this is generally acknowledged, we may 
 naturally conclude, that those who remember death 
 will not forget judgment. Let me, therefore, my 
 young friends, call down yourthoughts to the grave ; 
 and methinks, among so many monuments of 
 mortality, it should not be difficult to do it. 
 
 Recollect, I beseech you, what of that kind you 
 have seen the year past. How many of you have 
 attended the funerals of youth like yourselves, of 
 children much younger than yourselves ! They have 
 given up the ghost, and where arc they? What a 
 change hath death made !— Where are they ? Why, 
 perhaps, what remains of them, within the walls of 
 this place, under the feet of some of you. Could 
 
TO THE 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 your eye penetrate a few feet of eaitli, you would 
 see them ; but oh, what spectacles of horror would 
 you discover ! Yet perhaps a year ago they were in 
 the number of the most amiable objects of your 
 sight. And such is your bloom, such is your 
 vigour : and will you presume upon it, presume so 
 far as to continue exposed to all the terrors of divine 
 judgment, in a vain dependence that some years 
 hence you shall consider and escape it ? 
 
 O that you were wise, that you understood this, 
 that you would consider your latter end ! O that 
 you would be willing to converse with the dying, 
 and the dead ! you will, no doubt, soon have re- 
 newed opportunities of doing it. Some will pro- 
 bably be called away for lessons to the rest ; and 
 before the year rolls round, you may perhaps see 
 some pious youth going with joy and triumph to 
 glory, or some careless incorrigible creature dying 
 in terror, or, which is yet more dreadful, in a stu- 
 pid insensibility of soul. Reflect, my brethren, on 
 what of this kind you have seen ; attend to what 
 you may further see : and remember, that the house 
 of mourning may prove a school of the most useful 
 discipline, if the living will lay it to heart. 
 
 But why do I mention the house of mourning ? 
 You are perhaps going to that of feasting.* The 
 leisure of the season invites to it ; and custom hath 
 established it into a law, to close the old year and 
 begin the new with some peculiar vanities, in some 
 more than ordinary forgetfulness of all the impor- 
 tant purposes for which time and the opportunities 
 of it are given. Such is our wisdom, such is our 
 gratitude, such is our consistence with the name we 
 bear, and the profession we make ! 
 
 * N. B. Tliis sermon was preached at Norlhamplon, Dec. 23, 1735. 
 
 You are perhaps, some of you, impressed with 
 what you have heard ; but I am much afraid there 
 are those that within twelve days, or even twelve 
 hours, v.ill have lost the impression, and be as un- 
 concerned about this great judgment, as if God's 
 own hand had sent them a discharge from appear- 
 ing at it. It is a discouraging case, and it makes 
 us your ministers almost dread this season, cheer- 
 ful as it is thought, as that in which former con- 
 victions will be worn off, and the heart of unthink- 
 ing youth will be steeled against those that might 
 otherwise be made : as the season, in which we do, 
 as it were, see the infernal lion bearing away the 
 lambs of our flock, even before our faces. 
 
 But we will at least cry out for their deliverance, 
 we will lift up our voice like a trumpet ; and may 
 hope, that some of you will take the warning, and 
 hide the word of God in your heart. Sinners will 
 no doubt be enticing you, to walk as they do in the 
 way of the heart, and according to the sight of the 
 eyes ; but consent not to the solicitation, if you 
 would not be destroyed with them, in that day when 
 they shall appear, as they have now been repre- 
 sented, unable to stand in the judgment, and shall 
 perish from this unhappy way which they have 
 taken ; and that in a moment, when the wrath of 
 him, whom they now despise, shall but begin to be 
 kindled against them : for it shall be kindled with 
 such terrors, that they shall say to the mountains 
 and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of 
 him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath 
 of the Lamb : for the great day of his wrath is come ; 
 and who shall be able to stand .' The Lord grant, 
 that you may all find mercy of (he Lord in that 
 day! Amen. 
 
SERMONS 
 
 ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST, AND ON THE 
 EVIDENCES OF HIS GOSPEL* 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the young persons of the auditory and society under my stated ministerial care, these ten Sermons, 
 at (irst preaclied and published with a peculiar view to their edification, is now, with the most cordial 
 prayers for their temporal and eternal happiness, inscribed by their 
 
 Most affectionate friend. 
 And faithful servant in the bonds of our common Lord, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Growing experience convinces me, that I have no reason to fear lest candid and judicious readers 
 should be offended with me, for having given way to some warmth of devout affection in the greatest 
 part of these discourses ; the subjects are of a nature not only to excuse but to require it. And while 
 I have any reverence for Scripture, or any knowledge of human nature, I shall never affect to speak of 
 the glories of Christ, and tlie eternal interest of men, as coldly as if I were reading a lecture of mathe- 
 matics, or relating an experiment in natural philosophy. I hope I shall always remember how unworthy 
 the ciiaracter of a man and a Christian it is, to endeavour to transport men's passions, while the under- 
 standing is left uninformed, or the judgment unconvinced : but so far as is consistent with a proper 
 regard to these leading powers of our nature, I heartily pray, that I, and all other gospel ministers, may 
 so feel the energy of divine truths on our own souls, as to preach and write concerning them with a holy 
 fervency and ardour ; nor can I imagine it would bode well to the interest of religion in general, to 
 endeavour to lay all those passions asleep, which surely were implanted in our hearts by God, to subserve 
 the religious, as well as civil, life ; and which, after all, will probably be employed to some very ex- 
 cellent or very pernicious purposes. 
 
 I would hope that these Sermons, and those on Regeneration, will be of some service to religious 
 families, especially on the evenings of the Lord's day. We are happy in a great number of excellent 
 discourses suitable to such an occasion, and perhaps in none more suitable than in the two volumes of 
 sermons at Berry-street ; of which I can with great cheerfulness repeat what I said, when making my 
 acknowledgments to the founder, immediately after their publication : " That I cannot recollect where 
 I have seen a set of important thoughts on such various and weighty subjects more judiciously selected, 
 more accurately digested, more closely compacted, more naturally expressed, or in so few words more 
 pow'crfiilly enforced, than I have generally found in tliose sermons : on account of which, I doubt not 
 but the thanksgivings of many are often abounding to the glory of God." 
 
 1 esteem it my great felicity, to be engaged with those worthy authors in the same great design of 
 assisting to form men's minds to a scriptural religion and a Christian temper: and though many pro- 
 vinces may aj)pcar much more splendid in the eyes of the learned and the polite world, I trust ours will 
 be at least as favourably remembered in the presence of the Lord .Jesus Christ at his coming ; and I 
 would have no standard of honour, wisdom, and happiness, which will not stand the test of that 
 important day. 
 
 Northampton, June 9, 1741. 
 
 * Preached at Nortliamplon, 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 633 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 THE ABILITY OF CHRIST TO SAVE TO THE UTTERMOST. 
 Heb. vii. 25. 
 
 Wherefore he is able also to save them to the utter- 
 most that come unto God by him, seeing he ever 
 liveth to make intercession for them. 
 
 A VARIETY of trifles in life are daily breaking in 
 upon us, and hurrying us away into a forgetfulness 
 of God and ourselves. ' But how much soever we 
 may be careful and cumbered, agitated and dis- 
 tracted, about many things, one thing is needful, 
 viz. the approach of the soul to God, that it may 
 see and enjoy his salvation. The most important 
 question, is that of the awakened and trembling 
 jailer. What shall I do to be saved ? And the only 
 pertinent answer to that question, is that which the 
 apostle gave. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
 thou shalt be saved. 
 
 And have these latter days, these ages (as we are 
 ready fondly to imagine them) of greater refinement 
 and reason, discovered any new method of salva- 
 tion ? God forbid there should ever be any pre- 
 tence to it ! When we see a person, like our Lord, 
 appearing in an opposite cause, with an equal pomp 
 of miracles, with equal demonstration and power 
 of the Spirit, we may perhaps let go that anchor of 
 our souls, which we now esteem as sure and sted- 
 fast; but till then we will, by divine grace, stre- 
 nuously retain that gospel, which is recorded by 
 those, who first preached it, with the Holy Ghost 
 sent down from heaven : and if an angel were to 
 appear, in robes of the purest light, and with all 
 the charms of a celestial eloquence, to establish any 
 other foundation, far from yielding to the evidence 
 of such a single wonder, in opposition to so many 
 greater, we would hold that angel accursed ; as we 
 might certainly conclude, that he wore a deceitful 
 fonn, and was a messenger from the father of lies. 
 
 If the gospel be indeed of divine original, and 
 we are not following cunningly devised fables, it is 
 most certain that those doctrines, which are pecu- 
 liar to it, are not only true, but infinitely important. 
 And shall we, who are stewards of the mysteries 
 of God, decline insisting upon them, because they 
 are such common topics, and because we must in 
 effect be obliged to say the same things again and 
 again? As well might we despise bread, because 
 it is an old-fashioned diet, on which our ancestors 
 have fed for a long succession of ages, and on w hich 
 the lowest of our species are subsisted. As reason- 
 ably, and much more safely, might the physician 
 decline the use of all the most celebrated medi- 
 cines, recommended by the experience of many 
 hundred years, and pride himself in trying only 
 
 such, as had hitherto been entirely unknown : nay, 
 he might much better do it; for it is possible, that 
 there may yet lie hid, amongst the secrets of Nature, 
 some plant or drug of unknown virtues, some richer 
 cordial, and more sovereign antidote, than has ever 
 yet been discovered : but we are as sure, as we can 
 be of any thing in the revelation we profess to 
 believe, that there is salvation in no other, neither 
 is there any other name under heaven given among 
 men, but that of Jesus, whereby they can obtain 
 righteousness and life. 
 
 I hope therefore it will not (as, I am sure, it 
 should not) be disagreeable to you to hear, that 
 after the many sacred hours we have spent together 
 in meditations on such subjects as these, I am again 
 to resume the theme, and to discourse to you from 
 it for some succeeding sabbaths. I do it at the 
 desire of a friend^* who has recommended the sub- 
 ject to me with a peculiar regard to the rising 
 generation, for whose use these discourses are to 
 be made yet more public. And I would hope, they 
 will not be the less agreeable to my younger friends, 
 or any of my other hearers, because they are equally 
 the concern of all ; and such a concern, as to be the 
 very life of our souls, and (as I have largely shown 
 elsewhere t) the only foundation of our eternal 
 hopes. 
 
 The holy apostle Paul had (as he elsewhere very 
 emphatically expresses it) a continual most tender 
 and zealous affection for his brethren of the Jewish 
 nation, his kinsmen according to the flesh ; and 
 this epistle is a remarkable monument of it. It 
 was indeed directed to the believing Hebrews, and 
 its most evident design is, to animate them to adhere 
 resolutely to the Christian faith, whatever dangers 
 or dilliculties might attend that resolution. But the 
 mind of this excellent man was very capacious, and 
 continually filled with a variety of schemes for the 
 advancement of the gospel, the glory of his Lord, 
 and the salvation of souls : and as he could not but 
 know, that it was highly probable that this, rather 
 than any other of his epistles, would fall into the 
 hands of many as yet unconverted Jews, he not 
 only conceals his name, against which he knew 
 they were strongly prejudiced, but in a very wise 
 and happy manner makes use of such sentiments 
 and such language here, as might be very proper to 
 awaken and convince the unconverted, as well as to 
 assist the faith and the joy of them who had believed 
 in Christ, that they might be justified by him, and 
 not by the works of the law. And if any have not 
 made this remark, I apprehend they have lost much 
 of the strength and beauty of this excellent epistle. 
 
 In pursuit of these great and very harmonious 
 designs, the sacred writer insists largely on the dig- 
 nity of the person and oflices of our great Re- 
 
 * These sermons were first preached and published at the desire of 
 William Coward, Esq. 
 + Sec my Sermons to Young People, No. II. 
 
C34 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 ikcnicr. He represents hiiu as far superior to (lie 
 most exalted aiip;el.s, and therefore nmeli more to 
 the most exeellent of the eliildren of men ; superior 
 to ^^oses, tliat most honourable servant of the Lord, 
 who was faithful in all his house ; superior to 
 Abraham, the fiicnd of God, and father of the 
 faithful ; superior to Aaron the priest of the Lord, 
 and all the holj' family descended from his loins. 
 And it is on this branch of the ar^'umcnt that he is 
 now insistin!?. He labours at larfje, by a cliain of 
 reasoning which I have not time to trace, to show 
 that our Lord was made after the order of Mclchi- 
 zedec, in many glorious and important circum- 
 stances, in which the priesthood of Melchizedee 
 was superior to that of Aaron and his sons: amongst 
 other instances, this is one of the most considerable, 
 that whereas in the family of Aaron there were suc- 
 cessively many high priests, because they were not 
 suffered to continue by reason of death, this illus- 
 trious person, the Lord Jesus Christ, because he 
 continues ever, in immortal life and glory, hath an 
 unchangeable priesthood, or (as the word* most 
 exactly signifies,) a priesthood which does not pass 
 from one successor to another. Now from hence 
 tiie apostle draws that important inference in tlie 
 words of my text, " Wherefore he is able to save to 
 the uttermost," completely and perpetually to save, 
 all, that in the remotest ages and nations of the 
 world desire to come unto God by him, (or to make 
 use of his mediation, when they approach the throne 
 of God as humble worshippers,) seeing he ever 
 lives, to make a most prevalent intercession for 
 them ; of which, (as the apostle elsewhere more 
 largely states it,) the intercession of the high priest 
 before tlie mercy-seat on the solemn day of atone- 
 njcnt was but a very imperfect type. 
 
 It will be the business of several succeeding dis- 
 courses on these words, 
 
 I. To consider what we are to understand by 
 Christ's being able to save to the uttermost. 
 
 II. To j)rove that he is really so. 
 
 III. To consider the particular argument for it, 
 which the apostle draws from his ever living to 
 make intercession for them. And, 
 
 IV. To state the character of those who may ex- 
 pect salvation from him, which is here expressed by 
 their coming to God by him. 
 
 You see the copiousness of the subject we are 
 entering upon. I shall endeavour, in the prosecu- 
 tion of it, to lay before you the genuine doctrine of 
 the gospel on these various and important heads, 
 with plainness and seriousness. And I humbly 
 implore the .influence of the divine Spirit, to open 
 mine eyes, that I may beliold the wonders contained 
 in liis word ; and to open your cars so to hear them, 
 and your hearts so to embrace them, that every soul 
 here present may be an .eternal monument of 
 
 Christ's being able to save to the uttermost, and 
 may for ever live to receive the fruits of that inter- 
 cession, which our blessed High Priest is ever living 
 to make. Amen. 
 
 First, I am to consider what we are to understana 
 by Christ's being able to save to the uttermost. 
 
 For clearing up this matter I would only offer 
 
 these three remarks. It implies the danger and 
 
 calamity of tliose, to whom Christ is proposed as a 
 Saviour ; — it expresses a power of working out 
 complete deliverance for them ; — and it further im- 
 ports the continuance of that saving power without 
 diminution or decay, throughout all succeeding 
 generations. 
 
 1. When Christ is spoken of as able to save, it 
 strongly implies, " That those, to whom he is pro- 
 posed as a Saviour, are, without him, in a state of 
 danger and calamity." 
 
 It would be a foolish mispending of time to 
 attempt to prove at large, that in Scripture, as well 
 as in ordinary speech, to save, and to deliver, are 
 words of the same import. " Jesus shall save his 
 people from tlieir sins ;" and " he delivers us from 
 the wrath to come." 
 
 It is a most obvious remark, but so necessary, as 
 Jiot to be lightly dismissed, That the ichole have no 
 need of a physician, but they who are sick ; and 
 the secure have no need of a Saviour, but they who 
 are in danger. And as the apostle argues, that if 
 Christ died for all, then were all dead, all were in 
 a state of death, or they would not have needed 
 such an expiatory sacrifice ; so we may assure our- 
 selves, that if Christ is to be offered to all as a 
 Saviour, then were all in a state of ruin. And if 
 he is of God to be made unto us wisdom, and 
 righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption, 
 tlien are we without him destitute of ail these, fool- 
 ish and guilty, polluted and enslaved, condemned 
 and perishing. 
 
 This is expressly asserted in a variety of scrip- 
 tures, largely and laboriously proved in the three 
 first chapters of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, 
 and generally acknowledged by all who pretend to 
 believe the gospel ; as indeed it must be, if they 
 would not in the most notorious manner contradict 
 themselves. Yet, alas, how little is it felt ! We sec 
 it in the indolence of men's lives, we see it in the air 
 of indifference with which the tidings of salvation, 
 are commonly received. The greater part of man-; 
 kind are soothed into an insensibility of their dauT 
 ger ; they are amused with the dreams of sensual 
 pleasure, with the vain rovings of a gay imagina- 
 tion, and the fond expectation of a thousand satis- 
 factions, whicli they never have founds and never 
 will find, in life. And hence it comes to pass, that 
 they hear not the thunder of God's lav/, loud and 
 dreadful as it is ; nor see the flaming sword of his 
 vengeance, stretched out against them, and just 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 635 
 
 ready to give thein the mortal blow. And probably 
 it is the case of several amongst you. Perhaps many 
 of you may find, even on the most transient reflec- 
 tion, that you were never alarmed with a sense of 
 your danger, nor saw yourselves perishing without 
 a Saviour : but if it be so, give me leave to pro- 
 claim it aloud, with all the earnestness which is 
 suited to a matter of life and death, that it is time, 
 high time, for you immediately to awake out of 
 sleep ; for you nod on the brink of a precipice, and 
 there is but a hand's breath between you and eternal 
 ruin. 
 
 In the name of God, Sirs, and as you love your 
 own souls, rouse up your stupified senses, and open 
 those drowsy eyes. liOok into the holy law of God, 
 and read over the records of conscience ; and see 
 the agreement, or rather, the dreadful disagreement 
 and contrariety between them : such a contrariety, 
 that one would almost think, you imagined that the 
 commands of God were given to tell you what you 
 I should not do, rather than what you should. And 
 dare you imagine, that the eternal God, with all his 
 almighty power, and all his unspotted holiness, 
 will look with indifference on the violation of his 
 law, merely because you have the boldness to vio- 
 
 ■ late it with indifi'erence ? Do you think he had no 
 meaning, or that it was not a meaning full of terror, 
 M'hen he told the Israelites of old, that if f hey pre- 
 sumed thus to walk contrary to him, they should be 
 cursed in the city, and cursed in the field, cursed 
 in the fruit of their body, and in the fruit of their 
 
 j ground, cursed in their coming in, and cursed in 
 their going out ; nay, that a fire should be kindled 
 in his anger, that should burn even unto the lowest 
 hell ; that should consume the earth with her in- 
 crease, and set on fire the foundations of the moun- 
 tains ? Think you the Scripture speaks in vain, when 
 I it says such terrible things as these ? Or will you 
 ' say these things were only spoken to the Jews of 
 ' old ? Can you imagine, that sins committed in the 
 
 ■ land of Canaan, some thousands of years ago, 
 ! should provoke the eyes of God's holiness, and 
 ! kindle the (lames of his wrath ; and that he should 
 i wink at crimes committed in the present age, and 
 ' in Britain ; while wc have higher advantages to know 
 
 our duty, and stronger engagements to perform it, 
 than even that favourite nation of Israel had ? I ap- 
 peal to your consciences, sinners, whether this 
 thought has even the lightest degree of probahility 
 in it. And if it has not, then surely here is dan- 
 I ger, and horror, in all (heir most frightful forms. 
 I To sec the drawn sword of an inexorable enemy 
 I waved round your defenceless head, or pointed at 
 t your naked breast ; or to see this building all in 
 flames, and yourselves surrounded beyond possi- 
 bility of escape, (were the prospect to terminate 
 there,) were a danger at which a man might justly 
 I wnile, and stand collected and composed, when 
 
 compared with that into which sin has brought you, 
 and in which the gospel finds you. 
 
 And it is a terrible aggravation, tliat without 
 Divine assistance this danger is inevitable. We 
 can neither vindicate our conduct, nor atone for 
 our offences ; we can neither avoid nor endure the 
 punishment, should God lay justice to the line, and 
 righteousness to the plummet. All our soul is en- 
 feebled, and all our nature corrupted ; and he must 
 be a great stranger to himself, as well as to the rest 
 of mankind, who will not acknowledge with the 
 apostle, that when we were yet without strength, in 
 due time Christ died for us. This is apparently the 
 doctrine of the gospel : and as the forerunner of 
 Christ made way for him, by declaring that meh 
 were by their sin in danger of the wrath to come, 
 and that the axe of divine judgment was laid to 
 the root of the trees ; so I think it is our duty, as 
 we tender the honour of our Redeemer, and the 
 salvation of your souls, often to be reminding you 
 of these things ; and the words of the text so natu- 
 rally imply them, that I am persuaded you cannot 
 think them a digression. But I add, 
 
 2. When it is said, that Christ is able to save to 
 the uttermost, it must express a " power of working 
 out complete deliverance for his people." 
 
 So some judicious commentators descant upon 
 these words, and I think with a great deal of reason, 
 " He is able to save in the most perfect nianner, 
 so that nothing shall be wanting to complete the 
 salvation."* And this is a thought of so great im- 
 portance to our joy and peace in believing, that I 
 will further illustrate it by the mention of various 
 particulars, which are evidently comprehended in 
 complete salvation. But I shall only touch on 
 them now, because some of them are to be resumed 
 at large under the second general. 
 
 Our Lord Jesus Christ is able " completely to 
 answer the demands of divine justice, and thereby 
 to save us from the curse of the law." — It was indeed 
 impossible that the blood of bulls and of goats 
 should fake away sin ; but we may easily believe, 
 that the blood of Christ, who through the Eternal 
 Spirit ofl'crcd himself a spotless sacrifice to God, 
 should avail to that blessed purpose, r.nd be accept- 
 ed as an infinitely valuable and adequate satisfac- 
 tion. Justly may we conclude, that the oflended 
 Deity is now rendered propitious, and that by faith 
 in a Redeemer we may be justified from all things, 
 from which we could not be justified by the law of 
 Moses. Here is a door of hope opened, not only 
 to those who have escaped the grosser pollutions 
 which are in the world through lust, and maintain- 
 ed a fair and honourable character for the decency 
 and morality of their behaviour, but even foV the 
 chief of sinners. Iniquities that have been as scar- 
 
 * r.ic TO iravTcAfc— Perfcctt', sivr ad prrfcrt^ni a-tcrnamq ; fclicita- 
 tcm adducere. Eatiua. I'rorsus, vel absolutissiniO, ita ut nihil adeuin 
 salutfm [wssit .impliiis dcsidcrari. Bcsa, in loc. 
 
636 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 let, may be made white as snow, and those that 
 have been red as t rinison, may be as wool. 
 
 The almighty power of Christ, as a Saviour, ex- 
 tends to the " sanctilication of our uatureSj" as well 
 as to the justification of our persons before God ; 
 for he is made of God unto us, not only righteous- 
 ness, but .sanctification, in order to his being made 
 complete redemption. — When our own most vigor- 
 ous cfl'orts fail us, and prove too feeble to break those 
 cords in sunder, by w hich we are natually enslaved 
 and disgraced; when we find that to attempt a re- 
 formation of our corrupt habits and exorbitant 
 passions, is but as if the Ethiopian should labour to 
 change his skin, or the leopard his spots ; by the 
 law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, we may be 
 made free from the law of sin and death, and be 
 formed by his grace to such a temper, as may ren- 
 der our souls a delightful habitation for a holy God. 
 As by liis healing touch in the days of his flesh he 
 removed an inveterate leprosy, which no human 
 methods of cure could reach ; so can he diffuse 
 purity and health throughout all the soul, if he put 
 forth his gracious hand, and say, to the most pol- 
 luted and degenerate creature, I will, be thou clean. 
 Again, 
 
 The Lord Jesus Christ is able to save liis people 
 " from all the artifice and power of the prince of 
 darkness." — If that crooked serpent attempt to in- 
 sinuate himself into the hearts of Christ's people by 
 the most artful methods, he can trace all his wind- 
 ing ways ; and as all the treasures of divine wisdom 
 are hid in him, he knows how to turn all the most 
 wily practices of this experienced deceiver into his 
 own confusion ; to detect every laboured stratagem, 
 and from the most dangerous snares to teach such 
 useful lessons of holy prudence, as shall tend to the 
 future security, as well as the immediate deliver- 
 ance, of his servants. — Or should Satan put on the 
 form of a roaring lion, to throw their souls into a 
 trembling horror, it shall appear in this respect, as 
 in others, that the Lion of the tribe of Judah pre- 
 vails. He who has spoiled principalities and 
 powers, and made a show of them openly on the 
 cross, will still assert the conquest he has gained. 
 And it sliall appear, to the everlasting disappoint- 
 ment and shame of all the host of hell, that it was 
 not a vain boast, but the words of eternal wisdom, 
 as well as invariable faithfulness, when he said, I 
 will give unto my sheep eternal life, and they shall 
 never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of 
 my hand. Which leads me to add further. 
 
 That Christ is able to save to the uttermost, as 
 " he can enable his people to persevere to the end 
 of their course, even in the midst of the most formi- 
 dable opposition." — The state of a Christian is in- 
 deed a warfare, and he had need to be completely 
 armed for the combat ; but he may depend on being 
 victorious in it, under the conduct of the great Cap- 
 
 tain of his salvation, who can teach his hands to 
 war, and his fingers to fight, so that even a bow of 
 steel should be broken by his naturally feeble arms. 
 Jesus, his great covenant-head, to whom the Spirit 
 is given without measure, can pour it out in so 
 plentiful a manner, that were a career of labour, 
 or of suffering, arduous and hazardous as that of 
 the blessed apostle Paul, to be opened before the 
 weakest saint, he might say, with such composure 
 and intrepidity as Paul did, I can do all things, or 
 am sufficient for all, through Christ that strength- 
 eneth me ; and might repeat the triumph which he 
 has taught us. What shall separate us from the love 
 of Christ; Shall tribulation, or distress, or perse- 
 cution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, orsword? 
 Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, 
 through him that loved us. Yea, 
 
 Our blessed Redeemer is able to save to the ut- 
 termost, as " he can support his people in death, 
 and receive their spirits to a world of glory." — In 
 that awful hour, when the dearest of their human 
 friends stand around them with tears of unavailing 
 pity, he can command deliverance for them ; he 
 can support them, though flesh and heart fail, by 
 the lively views of approaching glory, while he 
 strengthens the eye of faith, to see, as it were, 
 heaven opened, and himself standing at the right 
 hand of God, to receive the departing spirit. So 
 that the Christian may justly make his exit from off 
 the stage of life, with those graceful words of the 
 apostle, I know whom I have believed, and am per- 
 suaded that he is able to keep what I have com- 
 mitted to him until that day. And when he hath 
 shot the awful gulf, and is cut off from any further 
 commerce with earth and its inhabitants, he still 
 finds himself in a province of the Redeemer's em- 
 pire, and feels the important support of that hand, 
 which bears the keys of death and the unseen world. 
 And, to add no more on this head. 
 
 The Lord Jesus Christ is able to save his people 
 to the uttermost, as " he can raise their bodies from 
 the dissolution of the grave, and conduct their com- 
 plete persons to the regions of eternal felicity." — 
 He is the resurrection and the life ; and though 
 death be the king of terrors, he knows and owns 
 the conquest of the King of glory, who will at 
 length swallow him up in victory ; so that there 
 shall be no more remainder of his power, than if he 
 had never invaded any of the subjects of Christ. 
 Their triumphant prince will verify the heroic 
 words of Moses to the Egyptian tyrant, in a far 
 more exalted sense ; There shall not a hoof be left 
 behind. The sleeping dust of his people, wherever 
 it be dispersed, is still within the ken of his discern- 
 ing eye, and the reach of his almighty hand ; and 
 when the appointed hour is come, all that are in the 
 graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and 
 shall come forth ; and so illustrious a change shall 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 037 
 
 pass on their vile bodies, that they shall be fashion- 
 ed like unto his own glorious body, according to 
 that mighty power whereby he is able even to sub- 
 due all things unto himself. When this noble work 
 of his power shall be accomplished, and in it the 
 schemes of his love completed, with regard to all 
 his elect, then shall he be glorified in his saints, 
 and admired in all them that believe. Experience 
 shall then most amply attest, what such a variety 
 of other evidences is now assuring us of; and the 
 whole redeemed world shall ring with the joyful 
 acknowledgment. That he is able to save to the ut- 
 termost, in the most complete manner, in the most 
 perfect degree. 
 
 I know all these thoughts are common and plain ; 
 V'et I have insisted thus largely upon them, because 
 they are the great foundations of our faith and hope : 
 and had I been capable of furnishing out any curious 
 and abstruse speculations on the subject, I am sure, 
 that when laid in the balance with these sacred and 
 important truths, they would have been lighter than 
 a feather, weighed against talents of gold. But I 
 would proceed to observe, 
 
 3. That when it is said that Christ is able to save 
 to the uttermost, it may further imply, " that the 
 efficacy of his saving grace continues the same, 
 throughout all succeeding ages." 
 
 Some very celebrated commentators have taken 
 the phrase in this sense, and rendered it, He is able 
 always to save ; * and it must be confessed, at least, 
 that the following connexion evidently proves this 
 to be implied. For the apostle had before observed, 
 that Christ had an unchangeable priesthood, that 
 admitted of no successor ; and, in the close of the 
 verse he argues his ability to save, from his ever 
 living to make intercession ; and therefore it can- 
 not be improper here to touch on this thought, in 
 whichever part of the text we suppose it chiefly to 
 be suggested.! 
 
 Our Lord .Jesus Christ was able to save from 
 the beginning. His energy wrought from the date 
 of the first promise to our fallen parents, as his 
 saving power and grace were indeed the foundation 
 of it. And still, from that day to the present, has 
 the seed of the woman been bruising the serpent's 
 head in many instances, which have been as pre- 
 ludes to tlie complete expected triumph. 
 
 By faith in him, under the more obscure dis- 
 coveries before his incarnation, the elders obtained 
 
 * C'hristus non tantiim potoit, fiuaiido niorlalis craf, scd et nunc 
 continue potest «alvarc E^tiua, in Itx-. 
 
 + I cannot think it ea^y, or ncct-ssary, in dftermino which of tliese 
 iwo senses of saving to the uttermost is to be preferred ; it is certain, 
 botli the thoughts arc comprelicnded in the verse. If, liy saving to llic 
 uttermost, we understand saving perpetually, the compleleness of the 
 deliverance is comprehended in the word save ; if we prefer the other 
 sense, of saving completely, that comprehends the perpetuity of il, 
 which is most expressly asserted in the following,' words. 1 think 
 Brcimius justly unites both, when he explains it, (,i to TravreAfr, per- 
 focte, ct in perpeluum; and I have the pleasure to find, since I wr<.te 
 Uiis, that the great and excellent Dr. Owon explains the text in this 
 extent, almost in the very words I had used above, whicli tluref.irc I 
 shall not transcribe. See Owen on the Heb. vol. iii. p. 2.15 and 23S. 
 
 a good report, and died in expectation of a better 
 resurrection. Their faith embraced hira, according 
 to the degree in which he was revealed ; they saw 
 his day, in a distant prospect, and rejoiced ; and 
 were received to the divine favour here, and to 
 eternal happiness above, in regard to a sacrifice 
 which was yet to be offered, and a righteousness 
 which was yet to be wrought out. 
 
 He appeared to be able to save, when he dwelt 
 on earth in a tabernacle of clay. Still he mingled 
 the dignity and power of a God, with the abase- 
 ments and infirmities of a mortal man ; asserting to 
 himself the divine prerogative of forgiving sins ; 
 speaking of a glorious resurrection, and eternal life, 
 as his gift ; representing himself as the head-stone 
 of the corner, on whom was fixed all the stress of 
 men's eternal interests ; and as the awful judge, 
 before whose tribunal the greatest of the children of 
 men should stand, and from whom all should receive 
 that decisive sentence, which should fix them in 
 final happiness or despair. Nay, even in his 
 deepest humiliation, on the cursed tree, a ray of 
 divine glory broke through that dark cloud of in- 
 famy with which he was then surrounded ; and 
 amidst all the scorn and rage of insulting enemies, 
 who were reproaching him as a wretch abandoned 
 by God and man, he speaks from the cross, as from 
 the throne ; and, as the King of heaven, takes upon 
 him to dispose of seats in paradise, and to promise 
 life and glory, to one w ho was then sharing with 
 him in the agonies of death, and the ignominy of 
 crucifixion ; Verily, I say unto thee, to-day shalt 
 thou be with me in paradise. 
 
 Now, if he were thus mighty to save, when he 
 dwelt in so humble a form, when he passed through 
 so calamitous a scene ; how much more evidently 
 is he so, amidst all the magnificence of his exalta- 
 tion in the highest heaven ; whither he has ascended 
 as a glorious conqueror, having led captivity cap- 
 tive, and received gifts for men ! Can we imagine, 
 that an abode of seventeen hundred years at the 
 right hand of the Majesty on high, has enervated 
 his arm, that he cannot save, or rendered his ear 
 heavy, that he cannot hear? It were a tliought most 
 evidently absurd ! We may therefore confidently 
 assure ourselves that he is, at this moment, as able 
 to exert an almighty power for the salvation of hi.s 
 people, as he was on that illustrious day, when he 
 poured out the Spiiit on his disciples at the feast 
 of Pentecost; or that in wliich he appeared to Paul 
 on the way to Damascus, with the glories of heaven 
 new upon him, even with a lustre exceeding that of 
 the meridian sun, and in a moment subdued his 
 stubborn heart, and transformed him from a perse- 
 cutor to an apostle. 
 
 Still is our Redeemer able to save, and still shall 
 he continue to be so. When we and our children 
 arc laid in the dust of death, he shall be the joy and 
 
638 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 oonlidcnGe of a new race of believers ; and, to the 
 very end of time, one generation shall arise and 
 declare his lijjhtcousness to another, and that 
 righteousness shall still retain its original value. 
 This foundation of God shall stand sure, though 
 rocks moulder into dust, and the mountains are 
 removed out of tlieir plaee ; yea, m hen the sun shall 
 fade away in its orb, and all the golden lamps of 
 these lower heavens are extinguished, the sun of 
 glory shall shine forth with undiminished radiancy: 
 and if the work of rescue and deliverance eease, it 
 will be only because danger and misery shall no 
 longer be known, and the very last of his enemies 
 is completely subdued. Yet still his victorious 
 energy shall continue the same, and it shall be as 
 true of his power as of his fidelity and grace, tliat 
 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and for 
 ever. 
 
 I have thus endeavoured to show you what we 
 are to understand by this phrase of Christ's being 
 able to save to the uttermost : — it implies the danger 
 and misery of those to whom he is proposed as a 
 Saviour ; — and evidently expresses a power of work- 
 ing out complete deliverance, — and the coiitinuance 
 of that power throughout all generations. 
 
 I shall conclude tliis head, and the present dis- 
 course, with two very obvious reflections on wliat I 
 have already delivered. How great is that salva- 
 tion which the Lord Jesus Christ hath wrought out 
 for us ! — and how much are we all concerned very 
 seriously to inquire after it ! 
 
 1. How great is that salvation which the Lord 
 Jesus Christ liath wrought out! 
 
 We have been taking a survey of many im- 
 portant branches of it ; and is it not most evi- 
 dently worthy of the title that the apostle gives 
 it, when he styles it, " So great salvation V So 
 great indeed it is, that if we compare with it the 
 most illustrious salvations which God wrought out 
 for Israel of old, far from being eclipsed, it will 
 rather be brightened by the comparison; and it 
 will appear how justly he might say, I, even I, 
 am the Lord, and besides me there is no Saviour ; 
 none that, compared witli me, deserves that im- 
 portant name. It was a great salvation which God 
 wrought out for Israel by Moses, when he broke the 
 power of Egypt by repeated blows ; when he led the 
 chosen tribes through tlic Red sea, and through the 
 desert, guided by the pillar of cloud and fire, and 
 supplied by heavenly bread, and water streaming 
 from the flinty rock. But the salvation of Christ is 
 ten thousand times more important. A pious 
 Israelite under the rod of an Egyptian oppressor, 
 might have risen in holy contemplation and devo- 
 tion, from the brick-kiln or the dungeon to the pre- 
 sence of God as his Father, to a liberty of soul 
 before him, which would have rendered his servi- 
 tude happier than Pharaoh's royalty: or should 
 
 the sword of tlie tyrant have taken away his life, he 
 would have found the stroke a blessed release, to a 
 state of complete and eternal glory. But our souls, 
 in this state of apostasy, were enslaved to Satan 
 and to sin ; we were incapable of spiritual pleasure; 
 we were lost to all future hope ; till Jesus appeared, 
 and seasonably came to break the iron yoke of our 
 fatal bondage ; to conduct us by his Spirit througli all 
 the perplexities and dangers of the wilderness ; and, 
 in our way to the heavenly Canaan, to feed us with 
 tlie true bread from heaven, and to give us that 
 water of life, of which, if a man drink, he shall 
 thirst no more. Have we not infinite reason to say. 
 This deliverer is worthy of more glory than Moses? 
 — It was a great salvation that was wrought by 
 Aaron, when the plague was broke out against 
 Israel ; when it was running througli their rank?;, 
 and laying them, in a moment, in the dust of death : 
 and that anointed priest of the Lord, by divine in- 
 stigation, took a censer in his hand, and placing 
 himself between the dead and the living, put a stop 
 to the spreading destruction, and made an accept- 
 able atonement for the sins of the people. But how 
 much more prevalent is the atonement of Jesus, onr 
 great High Priest, who arose, and stood in the 
 breach, to turn away the w rath of God from us ; 
 the incense of whose intercession not only, like 
 Aaron's, procures the reprieve of a mortal life, hut 
 the favour of God and eternal happiness? — Bat 
 neither Aaron nor Moses completed the purposes of 
 the divine favour to Israel his people ; and it was 
 in some respect a greater salvation than either of 
 these, that Joshua effected, when he led them 
 through Jordan to the land of promise ; when he 
 vanquished the kings of Canaan and their armies ; 
 when he stopped the sun in its career, to give tlieni 
 light to pursue their conquest ; till at last he divided 
 the whole country to them for an inheritance, even 
 the land flowing with milk and honey. But this 
 was only a type of the true Joshua, who, having 
 himself conquered our enemies alone, and trodden 
 them down like grapes in the winc-press, causes us 
 to share in the fruit of his victory by assigning us 
 a settlement in a better country, that is, a heavenly. 
 Were I to speak of the succeeding salvations under 
 their judges and their kings, I should, by mention- 
 ing a succession of deliverances, intimate the com- 
 parative imperfection of each. In the land of their 
 inheritance Israel sinned against the Lord : and 
 they were chastened there, and oppressed by one 
 enemy after another; till, at length, the whole 
 nation of them were dispossessed of it, and fell by 
 the sword, or were carried into captivity. But it is 
 the glory of Jesus, our great deliverer, to perfect 
 his work ; conducting liis people to a world of ever- 
 lasting security, from which they can never be 
 expel led, and in which they shall never be molested. 
 Let then the rod of Moses, and the censer of Aaron, 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 G39 
 
 and the sword of Joshua, and the sceptre of David, 
 bow to the superior glories of the cross of Christ, 
 and be laid down in humble reverence at the foot- 
 stool of his throne. And let our souls adore Jesus 
 the Almighty Saviour, and be daily more solicitous 
 to secure an interest in that salvation which he has 
 introduced. Which leads me to add, 
 
 2. How important is it, that we all seriously in- 
 quire after this mighty Saviour ! 
 
 You have all frequently heard of him. Let con- 
 science say, whether you have diligently inquired 
 into the credentials he brings, into the offer he 
 makes, into your own concern in such proposals as 
 these. I fear, many of you are conscious to your- 
 selves that you have neglected this great salvation. 
 Unhappy creatures, how v.ill you escape, if you 
 persist in such a neglect ? 
 
 Yet still, my friends, after all that is past, there 
 will (if God continue our lives a few sabbaths 
 longer) be another opportunity of reviewing these 
 things at large. I am more fully to lay before you 
 the proof that Christ is able to save to the utter- 
 most, the efficacy of his intercession for this blessed 
 purpose, and the character of those who may expect 
 this salvation from him. Let me bespeak the seri- 
 ous attention of all, and particularly of the younger 
 part of my auditors. Let passion, and business, 
 and every worldly vanity, be silent ; and let every 
 one that hath an ear, hear what the Spirit is still 
 saying to the churches ; what it is the very life of 
 sinners to know, the duty of every faithful minister 
 often to repeat, and the wisdom of the most esta- 
 blished saints often to recol'ect. 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 THE PROOFS OF CHRIST'S ABILITY TO SAVE. 
 
 Heb. vii. 2.5. 
 
 Wherefore he is able also to save them to the utter- 
 most that come unto God by him, seeing he ever 
 livith to make intercession for them. 
 
 Thoigh the nature of man be sadly degenerated, 
 and we are alienated from the life of God through 
 the ignorance that is in us ; yet there are some re- 
 mainders of human and social afl'ection, which seem 
 ao wrought into tlie constitution of our soul, as to 
 be as inseparable from us as our being. From hence 
 the mind feels itself delighted with the survey of 
 benevolent actions, no less necessarily, than tlie 
 eye with the finest prospect, or the car with the 
 mo.st harmonious music. Nor can it be merely a 
 n prard to our own interest, which adds a relish to 
 
 such accounts ; for we delight to hear them, though 
 the scene be laid in the most distant age, or countrj'. 
 Nay, fictions of this kind have a secret charm, which 
 it is not easy to resist; and the pleasure is real, where 
 we know the occasion of it to be only imaginary. 
 
 But sure it may be said with the utmost propriety, 
 that as eye hath not seen, nor ear by ci-edible report 
 heard, so neither hath it entered into the lieart of 
 man to conceive, any other display of benevolence 
 and goodness, even comparable to that which the 
 gospel presents. All the celebrated exploits of real 
 or fictitious heroes are not worth the mention, when 
 compared with those of the great Captain of our 
 salvation. Were we to contemplate it merely in 
 idea, and to set aside all the evidences of it, and 
 all the remembrance of our own concern in it ; j'et 
 even then how delightful would the contemplation 
 be ! Behold the Son of God, a person to whom the 
 mightiest potentate on earth, the most exalted angel 
 in heaven, is but as a worm, divesting himself of 
 celestial glorj', putting on the form of a wretched 
 mortal, and submitting to death in the most horrible 
 shape ! For what? to free some single nation from civil 
 bondage ! to humble some proud tyrant of the earth ? 
 to restore an oppressed people to liberty and peace ? 
 or to foiTn uncultivated savages to discipline, arts, and 
 social life? These are great things for a man to do ; 
 these may render the name of a prince immortal. But 
 the Lord of glory descends for nobler purposes: to 
 conquer and destroy the tyrant of hell, to rescue from 
 his cruel servitude an innumerable multitude of a!! 
 nations, and people, and kindreds, and tongties ; to 
 form their grovelling and degenerate minds to the 
 most useful knowledge, to the noblest sentiments, 
 and the most exalted pleasures ; to bring them lo 
 the glorious liberty and inestimable privileges of 
 the cliildren of God ; and, finally, to fix them for 
 ever in a state of honour and happiness, from whence 
 they might look down with superior contempt on 
 whatever earth can afford, most grateful to our 
 senses, most amusing to our imaginations, most 
 transporting to our passions. 
 
 I have already (old you that all this, and much 
 more than this, is comprehended in the phrase of 
 Christ's being able to save to the uttermost. Butis 
 all this only a pleasing dream, an agreeable amuse- 
 ment of thought ? Is it only what our fancy may 
 paint, aud our hearts might wish ? Is it a conjec- 
 ture built on dark probabilities, or precarious re- 
 ports ? No ; through the divine goodness we can 
 say, that the proofs of tiiis salvation are as con- 
 vincing, as i(3 design is amiable, and its blessings 
 important. We proceed therefore. 
 
 Secondly, To prove the truth we have explained ; 
 or to show you how evident it is, (hat the Lord 
 Jesus Christ is able thus to save lo the uttermost, 
 I and to complete the salvation of every believer, in 
 every succeeding- age of the church and world. 
 
640 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Tliis is ancvan<relical mystery, wliich the deepest 
 reach of human reason would not liave been able to 
 discover ; and which, when discovered, in this cor- 
 rupt state, it is too unwilling to receive. Should I 
 take the proof in its utmost extent, it would be 
 necessary to divide it into two grand branches ; 
 first, — to show that the gosjjcl revelation is true ; 
 and then, — that admitting its truth, the almighty 
 pow er of Clirist to save follows by a most easy and 
 necessary eoiiseiiuence. 
 
 The former of these is so extensive a subject, that 
 I shall choose to handle it apart ;* — and to insist 
 at present on the latter. I hope it will not be 
 thought an unreasonable thing, when addressing 
 an auditory of professed Christians, now to take it 
 for granted that the gospel is divine. Allowing it 
 to be so, it will indeed be an easy thing to prove 
 the ability of Christ to save. And did I aim at 
 nothing but abstract argument, the proof might be 
 unanswerably despatched in a very few words ; for 
 as the whole tenor of the gospel supposes it, so a 
 multitude of scriptures directly assert it ; and in- 
 deed the very words of the text may alone serve 
 most firmly to establish it. But, my brethren, I 
 cannot be contented with your cold and lifeless 
 assent, to so vital and so important a doctrine. I 
 would prove it, not merely to your understandings, 
 but your consciences. To atfect these, various 
 topics of argument are suggested in the word of 
 truth. I will now endeavour to trace them. O 
 that they might be attended with such demonstra- 
 tion of the Spirit, that every trembling awakened 
 sinner may be encouraged to venture his soul on 
 this almighty Saviour ; and that every Christian 
 may be quickened to a more delightful acquies- 
 cence in him, and being strong in faith may give 
 more abundant glory to God through Christ! 
 
 I would argue then, that our Lord Jesus Christ 
 will evidently appear thus able to save, if we con- 
 sider, — that he was commissioned by the Father for 
 this great work ; — that he appears in his person and 
 character eminently fitted for it; — that he has done 
 and borne all that we can imagine necessary to clTect 
 it ; — that he has been approved by the Father, as 
 having completely answered this glorious design ; — 
 that, in consequence of all, he has made such over- 
 tures and promises, as imply a full power of accom- 
 plishing it ; — and that, as a convincing specimen of 
 this power, he has already begun and carried on the 
 salvation of a multitude of souls, whose experi- 
 ence conlirms this comfortable truth. 
 
 If these particulars be duly considered in their 
 connexion with each other, I am persuaded nothing 
 more will be necessary, to prove, that Christ is able 
 to save to the uttermost ; nor could we so much as 
 wish for clearer evidence of it, though it be the 
 
 • Scrm. XIX. XX. XXI. 
 
 great basis of our eternal hopes : yet, because it is 
 so, I hope you will pardon my indulging what 
 might otherwise seem a redundancy of proof. 
 
 1. The Lord Jesus Christ was " appointed by 
 God to the work of a Saviour," and therefore is 
 able to perform it to the uttermost. 
 
 We are sure, that the witness of God is accord- 
 ing to truth ; and this is his testimony, that he hath 
 given to us eternal life ; and this life is in his Son. 
 As soon as ever the lirst intimations of grace and 
 mercy were given to sinful creatures, their eyes 
 were directed to him, as the great seed of the wo- 
 man, who was to bruise the serpent's head. In 
 succeeding ages, he is spoken of as God's servant, 
 in whom he delighted ; as his elect, in whom his 
 soul was well pleased ; and that, particularly, while 
 he considered him as the person, who should be 
 given for a covenant to the people, and for a light 
 to the Gentiles. And, to show how great a stress 
 was to be laid upon him, he is sometimes repre- 
 sented as made, by the immediate interposition of 
 God, the head-stone of the corner, though he had 
 been rejected by those whose office and profession 
 it was to build up the church. Nay, he is else- 
 where described as the foundation-stone, which 
 God himself had laid in Sion, elect, and precious ; 
 a sure and tried stone, so that he that believeth on 
 him shall not be confounded. When he was 
 coming into the world, the name of Jesus was given 
 him, on purpose to show, that he was to save his 
 people from their sins : at his entrance on his pub- 
 lic ministry, he was declared by a voice from heaven 
 to be God's beloved Son, in whom he is well 
 pleased : and through the whole course of it, he 
 was sealed by the Spirit in an extraordinary man- 
 ner, as the person who was to feed hungry souls 
 with the meat which endureth to everlasting life. 
 
 Now surely, if we were capable of going no 
 further than this, we might rest here with great 
 satisfaction. The wisdom of God cannot err. He 
 is the sovereign Judge of the fitness of ends and 
 of means; and where his judgment is declared, 
 we may acquiesce in it without further debate. 
 Since he appears to have fixed Christ as a nail in 
 a sure place, we need not fear to hang upon him 
 even the vast weight of our eternal interest. And 
 we might cheerfully have done it, even though God 
 had concealed from us many of those glories of his 
 person, which he has in some measure discovered 
 in Scripture. Nevertheless, so far as they are there 
 revealed, it is our happiness to know, and our wis- 
 dom attentively to consider them ; which reminds 
 me of adding, 
 
 2. That, so far as we are capable of judging, 
 " the Lord Jesus Christ appears in his person and 
 character, perfectly fit to accomplish the work to 
 which he is thus divinely appointed," and to save 
 his people even to the uttermost. 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 641 
 
 Fortlie illustiafion of this great argument, it will 
 be proper for us humbly to view him, in his glorious 
 appearance under the title of the great Emanuel, 
 God with us in our nature ; and to regard him as 
 God manifested in human flesh. For the mysteri- 
 ous union of the divine and human natures in the 
 person of our blessed Redeemer, is that which 
 renders him the secure confidence of our souls, an 
 anchor both sure and stedfast. 
 
 Even in the human nature of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, there is that which appears admirably suited 
 to the blessed design of our redemption. The apos- 
 tle tells us, that forasmuch as the children, wliom 
 he undertook to conduct to glory, are partakers of 
 flesh and blood, he also himself took part of the 
 same. He was indeed bone of our bone, and flesh 
 of our flesh ; and thus became capable of yielding 
 that obedience to his Father's law, and making that 
 atonement to his justice, which had otherwise been 
 impossible. It was necessary that he should have 
 somewhat to ofi"er : he therefore assumed a mortal 
 body, that he might ofier it as a sacrifice to God of 
 a sweet-smelling savour. 
 
 And that it might be so, it was absolutely requi- 
 site, that he should be au immaculate Iamb. He 
 was therefore such a victim, and such a high priest, 
 as became us, being perfectly holy, harmless, un- 
 defiled, and separate from sinners. Nor was he 
 only free from every degree of stain and pollution, 
 but by his own voluntary consent was made under 
 a law, to which he was by no necessity of nature 
 subject ; that he might bring in a complete and 
 everlasting righteousness, by the knowledge of 
 which (having borne their sins) he might justify 
 many. 
 
 Again, as he was perfectly fit for this great oflice 
 with respect to the holiness and purity of his cha- 
 racter; so he was likewise completely furnished for 
 it by the most plentiful effusions of the Holy Spirit, 
 which was given to him without measure, and 
 poured out upon him as the oi! of gladness, with 
 which he was anointed above any of those, who by 
 divine grace were appointed to be the humble 
 partners of his glories. It not only descended on 
 him, and resided in him ; but from him it streamed 
 forth, as water from a fountain. He was appointed 
 to baptize his people with the Holy Ghost and with 
 fire, with a spirit of wi.sdom, of zeal, and of holi- 
 ness, as well as with that miraculou-i ene gy which 
 wrought in so powerful a manner in the first of his 
 servants, whom he sent forth to publish his gospel 
 in the world. 
 
 But is this all that we can say of our Redeemer's 
 fitness to answer the glorious character under which 
 he appeared, and to effect the important work he 
 undertook ; — that he was an excellent and holy man, 
 and furnished with an uncommon degree, both of 
 the miraculous gifts and the sanctifying graces of 
 2 T 
 
 the Spirit ? No, Christians, we are very thankful, 
 that we have not so learned Christ. We have been 
 taught to adore him, as over all, God blessed for 
 ever ; as the brightness of the Father's glory, and 
 the express image of his person ; as Jehovah our 
 righteousness ; who being in the form of God, 
 thought it not robbery to be equal with God, and 
 took upon himself no higher character, than what 
 he had a right to claim, when he spake of himself, 
 in his appearances to the saints under the Old 
 Testament, as the living and true God, as a person 
 properly divine. Here, my brethren, here is the 
 most glorious evidence of his being able to save to 
 the uttermost. We should dread the curse pro- 
 nounced on the man that maketh flesh his arm, 
 should we repose all the trust and confidence of 
 our souls on created power and goodness, wisdom 
 and fidelity, appearing in a human, or we may add, 
 even in an angelic, form. But how cheerfully may 
 we trust the merit of his atonement, and the efiicacy 
 of his grace, when we consider him as that glorious 
 and wonderful person, in whom dwelleth all the 
 fulness of the Godhead bodily ? Permit me on 
 this occasion to resume some of the heads of my 
 former discourse, and briefly to show how they are 
 illustrated by this important thought. 
 
 Well may our souls magnify the Lord, and our 
 spirits rejoice in God our Saviour; for surely in 
 his name we may courageously set up our banners, 
 against the various legions of surrounding enemies. 
 Let conscience marshal our sins in order before us, 
 as a mighty army, in the most dreadful array ; let it 
 charge us home with the exceeding sinfulness of 
 each ; and with that dreadful eloquence, which is 
 peculiar to itself, aggravate each as a kind of infi- 
 nite e\il : there cannot be a malignity in any of 
 them, or in all, greater than the efficacy of that 
 sacred blood, which was poured forth to expiate 
 fhcni. Had it been merely the blood of a whole 
 hecatomb of bulls or of goats, of innocent men, or 
 even of holy angels, should they for such a purpose 
 have become incarnate ; we might still perhaps 
 have been ready to object, Where is the proportion 
 between the oirciice on one hand, and the sati.sfac- 
 tion on the other ? But we see it here, when we 
 consider that the church of God is redeemed with 
 his own blood. In that blood, wc beliold the hon- 
 ours of the divine law most gloriously displayed, 
 and the rights of his government so strenuously 
 asserted, that wc can easily believe, that neither 
 will be injured, by pardoning the most aggravated 
 offences with a view to such an atonement. 
 
 Let Satan appear in every form of artifice, or of 
 rage, possessed, as he is, of such formidable re- 
 mainders of angelic knowledge, or angelic strength. 
 We know, that by Christ were all things created, 
 whether visible or invisible, not excepting thrones 
 and dominions, principalities and powers. So that 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 l]ic kiion Icdfjo, and all tlio force, which tliis 
 in itice of hell could ever hoast, even in his prim.eval 
 slate, when a shining cherub in the regions of glorj'. 
 was only a feeble rcllection of the glories of his 
 great original. His hand formed this crooked ser- 
 pent ; and how easily can his hand crush him, and 
 enable even the weakest of his servants to trample 
 him under their feet ! 
 
 Storms of passion arc sometimes rising, and the 
 floods of corrupt nature are often beating liercely 
 on the soul ; but he that stills the foaming and the 
 roaring of the sea, can command this tempest into 
 a calm, lie that created us at first, can create us 
 anew, can deliver us from every evil work, and pre- 
 serve us to his heavenly kingdom. 
 
 Though dillioultics, and dangers, and death itself 
 lie iu the way to our complete salvation, a divine 
 power can arm us against all. While the Spirit of 
 the Lord is w itli us, though destitute of all other 
 might, vast mountains shall spread themselves into 
 a i)lain before us. Destruction itself shall hear his 
 voice, and nature shall a second time rise out of its 
 chaos, to wear a brighter face of order and of 
 beauty. For God brings down to the grave, and 
 raises again. And since Christ is the Son of God 
 by a generation which none can fully declare, by a 
 union which none can fully comprehend ; we may 
 easily believe, that those who sleep in the dust shall 
 come forth at his call, and that nothing shall be 
 wanting to the everlasting security and complete 
 happiness of those, whom he will condescend to o« n 
 as his people. 
 
 You will not blame me that I have insisted thus 
 copiously on the argument taken from the divinity 
 of our Redeemer's person, to prove the extent of 
 bis power to save ; considering the stress he himself 
 lays upon it, in those memorable words, — I give 
 unto my sheep eternal life, and they shall never 
 perish, neither shall any pluck them out of my 
 hand : my Father, who gave them me, is greater 
 than all, and none is able to pluck them out of my 
 Father's hand. I and my Father are one ; his om- 
 nipotence is therefore mine ; and in that my sheep 
 are secure. 
 
 3. " The Lord Jesus Christ has done all that we 
 can imagine necessary, in order to effect and secure 
 our salvation ;" and therefore we may conclude that 
 he is able to save to the uttermost. 
 
 You have heard something of the glories of the 
 Redeemer's person ; and I trust you are not entirely 
 strangers to the riches of his grace. I hope I may 
 say, with the apostle, You know the grace of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ ; that though he was rich, yet 
 for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his 
 poverty might be made rich. You know that he 
 emptied himself of that original glory, which he 
 wore in the heavenly world, and took upon him the 
 form of a servant, being found in fashion as a man. 
 
 You know, that he submitted to the inconveniences 
 and sorrows of a mortal life, and at last, to the 
 agonies of an accursed death, to atone the injured 
 justice of God, to purchase forfeited happiness for 
 his people, to procure for them the sanctifying in- 
 lluenees of the Spirit, and to furnish out those 
 endearing considerations, whereby their hearts are 
 constrained to holy obedience, more effectually 
 than by all the terrors of the Lord ; constrained, 
 perhaps I may say, more powerfully, as well as 
 more sweetly, than by any arguments drawn merely 
 from a view to their own interest, and the prospects 
 of a future reward : for love is strong as death, and 
 in some remarkable instances has proved much 
 stronger. I might add, that having finished his 
 embassy on earth, and closed the scene of his la- 
 bours and sufferings, he at length returned into 
 heaven, there to appear in the presence of God for 
 us ; to present before him the blood which he shed 
 on the cross, and in virtue of it to make continual 
 intercession for us ; using all his interest in the 
 court of heaven, in favour of his unworthy servants 
 oil earth. But this would lead me into another 
 branch of my subject, which I must reserve to a 
 future discourse. And I content myself for the pre- 
 sent with observing, that though we could not by 
 the light of unassisted reason have known all these 
 things to be necessary, yet now they are discovered 
 to us, we find them to be very fit and reasonable ; 
 and cannot imagine that any thing more is requi- 
 site, completely to accomplish the work of a Saviour. 
 But, blessed be God, we have a still surer founda- 
 tion for our confidence here ; for if any should urge, 
 (what is indeed true,) that we are not competent 
 judges of the rights of God the supreme governor, 
 we may with great pleasure answer, 
 
 4. " That the Father hath declared his full appro- 
 bation of what Christ has done under the character 
 of a Saviour," and thereby given us the most glo- 
 rious proof that he is indeed able to save to the ut- 
 termost. 
 
 His power to save, as Mediator, is evidently 
 founded on the efficacy of that atonement which he 
 presented to the Father for the sins of his people. 
 We wonder not if his disciples were under some 
 alarm, while he hung on the cross, and appeared to 
 an eye of sense incapable of delivering himself; 
 while they heard his insulting enemies cry out, He 
 saved others, himself he cannot save. We wonder 
 not, that while his sacred body slept in the dust of 
 death, the faith of his servants was weak, and their 
 fears strong ; so that they said, with a trembling un- 
 certainty. We trusted this had been he that should 
 have saved Israel. Bat God raised Christ from the 
 dead, and with him he raised our hope and our con- 
 fidence. Thus he declared him to be the Son of 
 God with power; and showed that the demands of 
 his justice were satisfied, since otherwise his 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 643 
 
 prisoner could not have been released. Nay, in 
 order to declare it in the most convincing manner, 
 God appointed that his Son's resurrection should 
 be attended with circumstances of peculiar honour ; 
 an angel descending from heaven to roll away the 
 stone from the door of the sepulchre ; and two an- 
 gels being employed to wait there, to give his 
 dejected followers the first welcome notices of this 
 great event. 
 
 Nor must I by any means omit the mention of 
 tliat very illustrious and important circumstance, 
 his ascension into heaven in the presence of his 
 apostles ; a cloud, as a triumphant chariot, receiv- 
 ing him out of their sight ; and angels at the same 
 time descending to assure them, that he who was 
 then rising to mansions of glory, should another 
 day appear conspicuous to every eye, when he 
 should return under the character of universal 
 judge. 
 
 His being admitted to sit down at the right hand 
 of the Majesty on high, and sending down, upon 
 his intercession there, the miraculous endowments 
 of the Spirit on the apostles, at the day of Pente- 
 cost, are incontestable and everlasting evidences of 
 the divine acceptance, and therefore of his saving 
 power. And surely we cannot entertain a doubt of 
 it, when we consider, that he is gone into heaven, 
 angels, and authorities, and powers, being made 
 subject to him ; and is there constituted, by the 
 designation of the Father, head over all things to 
 the church. 
 
 5. " I might further argue the ability of Christ to 
 save, from the gracious promises of salvation which 
 he has made either in his own person, or by those 
 who had a commission from him." 
 
 You know those important and encouraging pas- 
 sages so well, that it will not be needful for me 
 largely to insist upon them. You know how plainly 
 they express an extent of grace, reaching even to 
 the most enormous sinners ; and therefore, how 
 clearly they imply a correspondent extent of power. 
 He invited a*!! that labour and are heavy laden to 
 come to him ; and promised on their application to 
 him, that he would give them rest. He proclaimed 
 in a numerous assembly, on a day of j)ublic festi- 
 vity, that every thirsty soul should be most cordially 
 welcome to come unto liim and drink ; and assures 
 his hearers elsewhere, that he will by no means cast 
 out any who should come. The apostle Peler de- 
 clares, that by him all that believe are justified from 
 all things, from which they could not be justified 
 by the law of Moses, and consequently not by the 
 law of innocence, which left no room for repentance. 
 And St. Paul had his authority to assure us, not 
 only that Christ came into the world to save sin- 
 ners, of whom himself was chief; but he adds, that 
 it was for this very cause that he obtained mercy, 
 that in him first, (or rather, in him as the chief,) 
 2 T 2 
 
 Christ might show forth all long-suffering, for a 
 pattern to such as should hereafter believe. Now 
 let me entreat you to consider what I have already 
 said of the dignity of his person, the glory of his 
 kingdom, and the sanctity of his character ; and 
 then say, whether infidelity itself can suggest so 
 unworthy a thought as this, that Jesus, the Son of 
 God, the Lord of glory, the faithful and true wit- 
 ness, should ever mock and delude wretched mor- 
 tals, by the offers of a salvation which nevertheless 
 he knows he is not able to bestow ? That be far 
 from thee, O gracious Lord ! and be that base and 
 absurd suspicion as far from us ! But to add no 
 more on this head, 
 
 6. " We may very surely and comfortably argue, 
 from the instances in which the saving power of 
 Christ hath already been displayed," that he is able 
 to save to the uttermost. 
 
 There is nothing that strikes the mind of a wise 
 man like fact. Experiments do sometimes strength- 
 en our assent to those propositions, which have 
 been demonstrated to us, even in methods of ma- 
 thematical proof ; at least they impress the mind 
 with a peculiar kind of conviction, whicli nothing 
 else is capable of giving. Now, blessed be God, 
 there is a cloud of witnesses to attest this sacred 
 trutli, that Christ has begun and carried on the 
 salvation of a multitude of souls. 
 
 Let us look back to the history of former ages, 
 and see how many, who were once sunk into the 
 lowest degeneracy, have been renewed to a divine 
 life by the gospel of Christ. What multitudes, who 
 were once the reproach of our nature, have been 
 washed, and sanctified, and justified, in the name of 
 the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit communicated 
 from him. Refiect on the former and the latter 
 conquests of divine grace ; and you will see, that 
 even the chief of sinners have not been beyond its 
 reach. 
 
 And I persuade myself, the subject vvil! appear 
 to be further confirmed by the experience of some 
 who hear me this day. Are there not many of you, 
 my fiiends, who find a most happy alteration in 
 yourselves, when compared with what you once 
 were ? Arc there not many whose eyes, once spi- 
 ritually blind, have been opened, and their deaf ears 
 unstopped ? May I not say to yon, my bretiiren, as 
 Paul to the Ephesians, You hath he quickened who 
 were dead in trespasses and sins? For that it was 
 indeed his work, that it was wrought by his gospel, 
 and by his Spirit, you are as sure, as that it has 
 been wrought at all. 
 
 Nay, to advarice yet further in this argument, kt 
 faith unveil the eye of the soul, and liclp it to look 
 forward to a world invisible to sense. View it in 
 the light thrown upon it by Scripture, of whose 
 divine authority you are so abundantly assured ; 
 and what a delightful spectacle will open itself 
 
644 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 tlicre ! Wliat sliinin^ forius of holiness, and of joy ! 
 what an innuiueraMo triumphant multitude of all 
 nations, and kindreds, and peoples, and tongues ! 
 How loud do their praises sound ! With what un- 
 utterahle rapture do their souls overflow, too bip; to 
 be expressed even by the languasje of heaven ! Now 
 if it be asked, as it once was, Who are these, that 
 are clothed in w hite robes ! and from wlience do 
 they come ? the answer may be given as there. They 
 are come out of great tribulation : They were once 
 the inhabitants of earth, heirs to the infirmities and 
 sorrows of this mortal state ; and the most excel- 
 lent of them, even they who sacrificed their lives in 
 the defence of the truth, and sealed it with tlieir blood, 
 even they have washed their robes, and made them 
 white in the blood of the Lamb. They owe it to his 
 atonement and righteousness, that they are now 
 holy and glorious creatures; and cacli of them will 
 be an everlasting monument of his power, as well 
 as of his grace. And surely wlien wc view them in 
 the joys and glories of the intermediate state, 
 we may well assure ourselves, that he who has 
 saved them thus far, is able to save them to the 
 uttermost : and we can no more dou))t, whether he 
 can raise their bodies from the tomb, than we could 
 have doubted, whether he could untie the linen 
 bands in wliicli Lazarus was held, when we had 
 seen him loosing the bands of death, and animating 
 his corpse after it had begun to putrify. 
 
 Nothing more can be requisite to prove the truth. 
 I persuade myself, you are convinced, that Christ 
 is able to save to the uttermost ; and, I hope, you 
 feel your hearts impressed, as well as your judg- 
 ments satisfied. But I cannot dismiss the subject, 
 till I have added a few rellections upon it. 
 
 Now I shall omit some, which might naturally 
 arise from what I have already said, because they 
 will occur afterwards with greater advantage ; and 
 shall content myself with suggesting these two, 
 which I recommend to your further consideration. — 
 How great is the danger of those, that reject and 
 affront this Almighty Saviour ! — And how ground- 
 less are the fears of those, that have ventured tlieir 
 souls upon him ! 
 
 1. How great is the danger and misery of those, 
 that reject and affront such an Almighty Saviour ! 
 
 If he is able to save, he is also able to destroy ; to 
 break his enemies w itli a rod of iron, and to dash 
 them in pieces like a potter's vessel ! Alas, sinners, 
 though your treatment of Christ be so odious, as to 
 move the astonishment, as well as the indignation, 
 of all that view him and you, in a just, that is, in a 
 Scripture, light ; yet my heart is both grieved and 
 terrified for you, when 1 think w hat the end of your 
 op|)osition to him will be. Unhappy creatures ! 
 what w ill you do, when he rises up ? and when he 
 judges, wliat will you answ er him ? When he pro- 
 ceeds toejtcruto his sentence, how will you escape. 
 
 or resist, or endure it f Were it merely the indig- 
 nation of a man like yourselves, you might either 
 oppose it or bear it. But, alas, how insupportable 
 will be the vengeance of an almighty arm ! If it 
 could alone bring salvation, it will alone be able to 
 bring calamity and ruin. Yet were auxiliary force 
 necessary, all the legions of heaven would appear 
 armed against you, under the command of Jesus 
 their Lord. If you do indeed believe your Bibles, 
 I wonder that you do not tremble, when you read, 
 or hear, of that dreadful day, in which you are to be 
 so intimately concerned ; when it is expressly said, 
 that the most insolent of his enemies shall Hee be- 
 fore him in wild and helpless consternation ; when 
 the kings of tiie earth, and the great men, and 
 the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty 
 men, as well as others of meaner ranks, shall hide 
 themselves in the dens, and in the rocks of tiie 
 mountains, and shall say to the mountains and 
 rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him 
 that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the 
 Lamb : for the great day of his wrath is come ; and 
 who shall be able to stand ? What a dreadful 
 emphasis is there in these words ! How plainly do 
 they intimate, that they would prefer the crush of 
 a mountain to the more insupportable weight of his 
 wrath ; and that they will have more hope of mov- 
 ing rocks by their entreaties, than of prevailing on 
 their then inflexible Judge ? And will your hearts 
 endure, or your hands be strong, when the heavens 
 shall depart as a scroll, and mountains and islands 
 shall be removed ? Were the least of the servants 
 of Christ this day addressing himself to an assembly 
 of the greatest princes and potentates on earth, he 
 might be bold to say, in tli-e name of this King of 
 glory. Be wise now, therefore, O ye kings ; be in- 
 structed, ye judges of the earth : serve the Lord 
 with humble fear, and rejoice in your own dignity, 
 or in the offers of his grace, with trembling : kiss 
 the Son of God, in token of your ready submission 
 to his government, lest he be angry, and you perish 
 from the way in a moment, when his wrath is kindled 
 against you. And this faithful and necessary warn- 
 ing would I now address to you, adding, as the 
 Psalmist doth. Blessed are all they that put their 
 trust in him ; which leads us to the other reflection, 
 
 2. How unreasonable are the fears of those, that 
 have ventured their souls upon Christ! 
 
 Too frequently does the humble Christian, in the 
 view of all his difficulties, his dangers, and his 
 enemies, secretly borrow the words of David in his 
 melancholy frame, and say, I shall one day perish 
 by their hand : but as the anointing oil of God was 
 upon him, he preserved him in all, and made hiin 
 victorious over all : and it was an emblem of the 
 victory of the Christian, under the conduct of 
 Christ, and the anointings of his Spirit. It is very 
 dishonourable to Christ, as well as very uncomfort- 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 015 
 
 able to ourselves, to be continually terrified and 
 alarmed, while under the care of such a helper, 
 who declares himself the Lord mighty to save ; and 
 the devil gains a great advantage against the soul, 
 by throwing it into such panic terrors : the succours 
 of reason are then betrayed, and the nobler relief of 
 faith in some measure intercepted. And therefore 
 let the particulars I have been now illustrating be 
 often recollected, and frequently plead them with 
 your own hearts. " O my soul, is there any thing so 
 peculiar in thy case, that he who has saved so many 
 millions, cannot save thee ? Has Satan acquired 
 any new power, since Jesus conquered him on the 
 cross ? or can I imagine, that hell shall now begin 
 to triumph over heaven, and the Almighty Shepherd 
 be at length repulsed by these infernal wolves, so 
 as to stand by a helpless spectator, while they are 
 destroying his sheep ? How blasphemous and how 
 detestable a thought ! My soul, thou art in the 
 hands of Christ ; and by a new act of faith, I do 
 this moment commit thee to him, as able to save to 
 the uttermost those that come unto God by him." 
 Nor is that additional encouragement light and in- 
 considerable, which may be derived from the con- 
 cluding words. Seeing he ever liveth to make inter- 
 cession for them. But this great argument will be 
 handled at large in the following discourse. 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 
 CHRIST'S SAVING POWER ARGUliD FROM HIb 
 INTERCESSION. 
 
 Heb. vii. 25. 
 
 Wherefore he is able also to save them to the utter- 
 most that come unto God by him, seeintj he ever 
 liveth to make intercession for them. 
 
 As we have already endeavoured both to open and 
 to confirm this great truth, that Christ is able to save 
 to the uttermost, we are now, 
 
 Thirdly, to consider the particular argument 
 which the apostle suggests in proof of it, in the 
 words of the text, which is drawn from his ever 
 living to make intercession for his people. 
 
 In handling this, it will be evidently proper, first, 
 to state the doctrine of Christ's intercession ; and 
 then, to consider how it tends to demonstrate the 
 extent of his saving power. What little time may 
 
 ! remain, when these are despatched, will be employed 
 
 j as usual in a few reflections. 
 
 ' 1. 1 shall endeavour to state the Scripture doctrine 
 I of Christ's intercession. 
 
 ' Now the substance of this doctrine appears to me 
 
 to be this. Christ's intercession for his people, i.s 
 his pleading for them in heaven,— under the 
 character of their great High Priest ; — which he 
 always does virtually, by appearing before God, in 
 that body in which he suflered ; — and which he 
 always intends to present before him in this view, — 
 in favour of each of his people: — and this inter- 
 cession, whether it ever be, or be not, vocal, — is 
 always conducted in a manner becoming the dignity 
 of our exalted Redeemer, — and is abundantly 
 efl'ectual for the security, acceptance, and final 
 happiness of all his servants. 
 
 Permit me a little more distinctly to open each 
 of these particulars ; and the rather as some of them 
 must be acknowledged to have their difficulties ; 
 and as it is fit we should settle some rational and 
 digested notions of a doctrine, of such daily use 
 and such great importance. 
 
 1. " The word * which is here made use of to ex- 
 press Christ's intercession, does properly signify 
 pleading." 
 
 It is evident from the use of it in other Greek 
 writers, and especially those of the New Testament, 
 that it imports " an earnest address to one person 
 on account of another:" and according to the par- 
 ticle with which it is joined, it may express the 
 action of a friend or of an enemy ; as a person may 
 in our own language be said to plead for or against 
 another. Thus, on the one hand, Elijah is said to 
 have made intercession to God against Israel ; and 
 the Jews to have dealt, or, (as the original word is,) 
 to have interceded, with Festus, that Paul might 
 be put to death. On the other hand, Paul exhorts 
 Timothy, that intercessions be made for all men ; 
 and elsewhere speaks of the Spirit's helping our 
 infirmities in prayer, and so in effect making inter- 
 cession for us, i. e. as he renders our prayers, both 
 as to the matter and manner of them, agreeable to 
 the will of God. In this sense also, in the same 
 chapter, as well as in the text, it is said, that Christ 
 being risen maketh intercession for us, i. e. he pleads 
 our cause with the Father. And St. John likewise 
 encoura'^es us with this thought; If any man sin, 
 (as there is not a just man upon earth who does 
 not,) we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus 
 Christ the rigiiteous; who is the propitiation for 
 our sins, by that expiatory saerilice, on which he 
 pleads ; in sweet harmony with those memorable 
 words of Isaiah, He poured out his soul unto death, 
 and in consequence of that, he made intercession for 
 tlie transgressors : to which words, it is probable, 
 that Philo may refer, when speaking of the Logos, 
 or Word, he says, among many other surprising 
 things, " He is an intercessor for mortal man with 
 the immortal God."t You see then, that Christ's 
 intercession signifies his pleading the cause of his 
 
 + r«€Trj/iCi' £■;( T« ^vtjTH aci irpo^ -rov atl^Qapjoy. Pllilu Jiul. pag^. .179. 
 
 I 
 
C4C 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 people M iili llie Fatlier; and llierefore must impovt 
 a part of his woik as iiieiliator ; ami in its fullest 
 extent comprehends his ollice, both as an advocate 
 in the court, and a priest in the temple. But I 
 add, 
 
 2. That in this connexion, " it is evidently spoken 
 of as a branch of his priestly ollice," typilied by the 
 ministration of Aaron and his sons, in the Jewish 
 tabernacle. 
 
 This, as I formerly showed you, * the context 
 \ery plainly proves : under the law there were 
 many priests, See. but this man, because he con- 
 tinueth ever, hath an unchangeable priesthood ; 
 wherefore he is able also to save, &c. and then it 
 immediately follows, For such an High Priest be- 
 came us. And a very few verses after, the apostle 
 observes, that the sum of what he had here spoken 
 was this ; we have such an High Priest who is set 
 on the riglit hand of the throne of the Majesty in 
 the heavens. So that, seeing Christ's intercession 
 in our text is so evidently a sacerdotal or priestly 
 act, we may, no doubt, be assisted in our concep- 
 tions of it, by considering that of the Jewish priests, 
 to which it is compared. Now you know, it was 
 their ofTice to present their prayers to God in the 
 name of the people, both in their daily and their 
 yearly ministration. In their daily ministration, 
 they went into the holy place, to burn incense be- 
 fore the Lord on the golden altar ; and this incense 
 is often referred to in Scripture, as an emblem of 
 the acceptable prayers of pious worshippers. And 
 it is observable, that at the very time when the priest 
 was thus employed, the people stood praying with- 
 out ; and no doubt, it was a part of his duty to con- 
 cur in the devotions, which in their name he pre- 
 sented before God. But this intercession was most 
 solemnly made once a year, i. e. on the great day of 
 atonement, when the high priest entered into the 
 most holy place, with tlie blood of the victims, the 
 incense at the same time fuming, with a grateful 
 odour, before the mercy-seat. This was the grand 
 act of intercession ; by attending to which, we may 
 be more particularly informed of tlie nature of that, 
 which Christ as our High Priest is making in our 
 favour : and we particularly learn, 
 
 3. That " the a|)pearance of Christ above, in that 
 body in which he suffered on earth, is virtually a 
 continual intercession with the Father." 
 
 We are told, that the high priest carried the 
 Llood of the burnt-offering, and of the sin-ofl'ering, 
 into the most holy place, and sprinkled it before tlic 
 Lord there ; and by this action he is said to make 
 the atonement, the other sacrificial circumstances 
 being only preparatory to this. And thus our Lord 
 Jesus Christ has taken into heaven the human 
 body, in which he bare our sins on the accursed 
 tree ; and appearing thus in the divine presence, 
 * See Serm. XII. 
 
 he does thereby present his own blood before the 
 mercy-seat: as the apostle cxpresseth it, in a most 
 evident allusion to the preceding jiassagc in the 
 Mosaic institution. Not with the blood of goats and 
 calves, which were the sacrifices appointed on the 
 day of expiation, but by his own blood, he hath 
 entered into tiie holy place, having obtained eternal 
 redemption for us : and by this one oflering he 
 hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified ; so 
 that nothing further should be requisite, for the 
 complete expiation of their guilt. And it is accord- 
 ingly declared, that after he had offered one sacri- 
 fice for sin, he for ever sat down at the right hand 
 of God. 
 
 Now this appearance of Christ in heaven, which 
 is expressed by his standing in the midst of the 
 throne, as a lamb that had been slain, may properly 
 be called a virtual intercession. There is a language 
 in that circumstance, more forcible than in any 
 words we can imagine. This is happily illustrated 
 by the pious Mr. Flavel,t by the story of Amyntas 
 and ^schylus, as ^Elian relates it. TEscliylus was 
 condemned to death by the Athenians, and was 
 just going to be led to execution. His brother 
 Amyntas had signalized himself in the service of 
 his country ; and on the day of a most illustrious 
 victory, in a great measure obtained by his means, 
 had lost his hand. He came into the court just as 
 his brother was condemned, and without saying any 
 thing, drew the stump of his arm from under his 
 garment, and held it up in their sight ; and the 
 historian tells us, " that when the judges saw this 
 mark of his sufferings, they remembered what he 
 had done, and discharged his brother, though he 
 had forfeited his life."]; Thus does Christ, our 
 dear elder brother, silently, but powerfully, plead 
 for our forfeited lives : and such is the happy con- 
 sequence. His Father looks on the marks of his 
 sufferings, and remembers what he has done ; and 
 in this sense his blood is continually speaking 
 better things than the blood of Abel. We have an 
 advocate with the Father, who is also the propitia- 
 tion for our sins. 
 
 4. " Our Lord always intends, that his appear- 
 ance before his Father in heaven should be inter- 
 preted as a plea for his people." 
 
 He does not only perform an action, which may 
 be so understood ; but it is his habitual and con- 
 stant desire and intention, that it may be considered 
 in that view. He entered into heaven, not merely 
 that he might in his glorious human nature be 
 honoured with exalted dignity, and be delighted 
 with that fulness of joy which is in the presence of 
 God there ; but that, as their forerunner, he might 
 prepare a place for them. Still he remembers, that 
 he is made head over all things to his church, 
 
 + Flavel's Fount, of Lifp. 
 
 X jdtan. Var. Hist. v. 19. ct&ov oi diKa^anu avipov to ffa^of, uwe/i- 
 vilirOnirav TtiiV spyo>v aura, Ka( ci^rjKav tov A(<txkXov. 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST, 
 
 /■ which is his body, and wliicli with constant, ten- 
 derness he nourisheth and cherisheth. This is tlie 
 language of his compassionate heart : " Behold me, 
 
 0 my heavenly Father, behold me in a form thus 
 different from that, in which I originally was. 
 Behold me, now dwelling in human flesh ; and re- 
 member wherefore this flesh was assumed ; and 
 remember how it was once treated. When thou 
 saidst, Sacrifice and off'ering I will not; — I said, 
 Lo, I come ; 1 delighted then to do thy will, and I 
 still delight to recollect that I did it. Thou wast a 
 witness to that awful scene ; nor canst thou forget 
 this blood that was once offered to thee on the cross, 
 to assert the honours of thy law, and to appease the 
 terrors of thy wrath. Thou didst once own it, as 
 an ofl'ering of a sweet-smelling savour; and wilt 
 thou not still own it ? I have performed my part of 
 the covenant ; and I eheeifully put in my claim to 
 the performance of thy part, in favour of those for 
 whom I descended and died. Father, I will, that 
 those whom thou liast given me be witli me where 
 
 1 am ; and that nothing be wanting to begin, to 
 carry on, and to complete, the salvation of every 
 one of them." Thus does our Lord even now own 
 his people in the presence of his Father, and of his 
 holy angels ; and in the administration of his medi- 
 atorial kingdom, he does all things for the elect's 
 .sake, for whom he once endured all. 
 
 6. This gracious intention and care of Christ re- 
 .spects, not only his church in general, but " every 
 particular believer, in all the variety of his personal 
 circumstances." 
 
 When the Jewish high priest stood before the 
 Lord, he bore on his heart the names of the twelve 
 tribes of Israel : but Christ our great High Priest 
 bears on his heart, not only the names of the various 
 nations, and tribes, and families of his pco|)le, but 
 the name of every individual person amongst them, 
 even of all the children of God who are scattered 
 abroad. So that "he is as mindful of me," may 
 every humble believer say, "and each of my con- 
 cerns, as if I were the only happy creature under 
 his care." Thus, as the good Shepherd, he is said 
 to know all his sheep by their names ; and is de- 
 scribed, as accommodating himself with proper care 
 to the necessities of each, as seeking that which 
 was lost, and bringing again that which was driven 
 away, and binding up that which was broken, and 
 strengthening that which was sick ; as gathering 
 the lambs in his bosom, and gently leading those 
 that are with young. His eye is still upon each of 
 I them, and his heart is tenderly aflccted toward each. 
 I And while, as a mediator, he presents the prayers of 
 j each unto the Father, he intermingles his own in- 
 i tercession, not only that an answer of peace may 
 ! be returned to them, but that oilier necessary bless- 
 ings may be given in, and that they may be pre- 
 served from dangers by them unseen : as in the 
 
 days of his flesli, he foresaw tlie trials of Peter and 
 his brethren, and prayed for thera that their faith 
 might not fail, when they were under no apprehen- 
 sions for themselves. 
 
 6. " The Scripture does not expressly determine, 
 whether there be, or be not, some verbal address of 
 Christ to the Father, iu favour of his people." 
 
 Some very eminent divines have indeed posi- 
 tively concluded, that there is none.* But I cannot 
 think that so certain as they have supposed it. It 
 is true we know but very little of the heavenly 
 worlJ, of the methods of converse or worship there. 
 We know not in what accents its blessed inhabit- 
 ants address their songs of praise to God, or cry to 
 each other, saying. Holy, holy, holy Lord God Al- 
 mighty. But this we assuredly know, that our 
 Redeemer is gone into heaven in his human body, 
 though now, in an admirable and inconceivable 
 manner, refined and beautified, invigorated and 
 adorned. And we know, that since his entrance 
 into his glory, he has not only appeared in a visible 
 form to some of his servants on earth, but spoken 
 to them with an audible voice. And must we say, 
 that he still dwells in everlasting silence above ; 
 or that, if he speaks, it is only in the language of 
 authority to his celestial subjects? Is it absolutely 
 certain, that his sacred voice is never employed in 
 any of the triumphant songs of heaven? or that it 
 is never addressed to his Father in the language of 
 ];rayer? On earth, he importunately asked those 
 blessings for his people, which he knew that his 
 father had, by the covenant of redemption, ex- 
 pressly stipulated to bestow : and when he was 
 returning to the regions of gIo:y, he said, I will 
 pray the Father, and he shall give you another 
 comforter. Now can we say, there is any thing in 
 a vocal, more than in a mental, prayer, unworthy 
 the character of the Son of God, and the Lord 
 of all? 
 
 We cannot indeed imagine, that our Lord is al- 
 ways thus employed. We know he has other business 
 in the world of glory, with which a continued ad- 
 dress to the Father would be inconsistent. But how 
 are we confident, that nothing of this kind passed, 
 when he first ascended to the right hand of the 
 Majesty on high ? or that such an intercession has 
 never since been repeated .' I would stand at the 
 remotest distance from a bold intrusion into these 
 unseen things; but I must presume so far as to 
 say, that I see no absurdity in granting, that somf> 
 Scripture passages we have just referred to, may bo 
 taken in a more literal sense than many have 
 allowed. Nor can I imagine, that the supposed 
 silence of the high priest, when he cnfcrcd into the 
 most holy place, can have much weight in the pre- 
 
 * The great Dr. Owen expressly aascrls, He inlercc(let)> not orally in 
 luaven at all. Owen on tlie Spirit, p. 445. So ScoU's Christian Ijfe, 
 vol. .X p. 763. and many olliers. 
 
018 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 sent qiieslidn: for not now to iirpe, how possible 
 it is, tlicit 111- niinht then use some words of prnyer, 
 though no fonn be prescribed for this, or any otiier 
 peculiar service of tlie day, it is certain that he was 
 then ahine in tlie divine presence; whereas Jesus, 
 the Higli Priest of our profession, is surrounded with 
 an iiinunierable company of angfels, and witli the 
 spirits of just men made perfect. But after all, I 
 will assert nothing positively here ; and to prevent 
 the mistake of what I have already said, I think it 
 proper to add, 
 
 7. That in whatever manner tliis intercession may 
 be carried on, we may depend upon it, that it is 
 " always congruous to that dignity and authority, 
 in which our Lord appears in the world above." 
 
 When our Redeemer was on earth in the days of 
 his humiliation, he poured out strong cryings and 
 tears, when addressing his Father ; he fell on his 
 knees, and sometimes prostrated himself on his 
 face : but now, sorrow and abasement are no more. 
 He is described, as sitting at the right hand of God ; 
 and to raise the idea, is represented by the prophet, 
 as a priest on his throne. And the language of his 
 intercession is princely too ; " Father, I w ill that 
 those whom thou hast given me, be with me where 
 I am." 
 
 And I must further add, that his addresses to the 
 Father, in favour of his people, are also " perfectly 
 consistent with his administration of the affairs of 
 his mediatorial kingdom." All power is given to 
 him both in heaven and on earth ; and God hath 
 highly exalted him, and jjiven him a name above 
 every name, having said unto him, Sit thou at my 
 right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool. 
 He is, as it were, the grand almoner of heaven, by 
 whom the divine bounties are dispensed. In his 
 hand are the ways, the hopes, the lives of all ; and 
 even the keys of death, and of the unseen world. 
 We are not therefore to think of any intercession 
 inconsistent w ith this, if we would make our scheme 
 agreeable to Scripture, or Scripture consistent vvith 
 itself. I add once more, 
 
 8. The intercession of our blessed Redeemer " is 
 always effectual, for the vindication, the acceptance, 
 and the final happiness of his people." 
 
 He is, as the apostle styles him, God's dear Son. 
 And if on earth he could confidently say, Father, I 
 know that thou hearest nie always ; we may then 
 well assure ourselves, that he cannot fail of success, 
 when pleading in the court of heaven ; especially 
 when asking those things, which he has purchased 
 for his people by his own blood, and which his 
 heavenly Father, by promise, stands engaged to 
 bestow. 
 
 By this intercession " the characters of his ser- 
 vants are vindicated." Observe how the apostle 
 triumphs in the patronage of such an advocate, even 
 under the humblest sense of his own imperfections, 
 
 and while joyfully ready to renounce every appear- 
 ance of eonlidenee of himself. Who, says he, shall 
 lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is 
 God that justificth : who is he that eondemneth? It 
 is Christ that died, yea rather that is risen again, 
 who also maketh intercession for us. Though Satan 
 stand at our right hand to accuse us, though that 
 malignant spirit aggravate every miscarriage, and 
 detract from every service, and add, as in the case 
 of Job, artifice to rage, and falsehood to malice ; 
 Jesus stands at the right hand of God, to vindicate 
 our character from every misrepresentation, and to 
 plead his own righteousness and blood, in answer 
 to those charges which cannot be denied. Again, 
 The intercession of Christ prevails " for the ac- 
 ceptance of our persons and services." We must 
 indeed humbly own, that we are such sinful crea- 
 tures, that we pollute whatever we touch ; and there 
 is so much sin adhering to the best of our duties, 
 that they need forgiveness rather than merit reward. 
 But the angel before the throne offers the prayers of 
 the saints with much incense, which gives them a 
 grateful savour ; and they are made acceptable in 
 the Beloved. 
 
 In a word, this intercession is effectual " to pro- 
 cure for us all necessary blessings;" which Christ, 
 in consequence of it, is commissioned to bestow 
 upon us. Thus he now keeps us from falling; and 
 he will ere long present us before the Father with 
 exceeding joy. The prayer he offered on earth, as 
 the model of that which he is presenting above, 
 shall be completely answered with respect to all 
 his people ; we shall be one in the Father and in 
 him; and shall all be made perfect in one, being 
 with him where he is. And the eternal happiness 
 ol every believer shall show the value the Father 
 sets on the blood of the Son, and on tlsat interces- 
 sion which is founded in it. 
 
 We have thus taken a brief survey of what the 
 Scripture informs us, concerning the intercession 
 of Christ. I am, 
 
 II. To consider, how this intercession, which he 
 ever lives to make, " is a proof of our Lord's being 
 able to save to the uttermost." 
 
 So you see the apostle affirms ; and so it will ap- 
 pear to be, if we consider — the foundation, — the 
 extent, — and the perpetuity of it. 
 
 1. The intercession of Christ " being founded on 
 his atonement, is a proof of the" efficacy of that," 
 and consequently of his ability to save. 
 
 You have seen it expressly asserted in Scripture, 
 that it is by his own blood that he is entered into 
 the most holy place. He pleads with and upon 
 that ; urging before the Father, virtually at least, 
 the merit of his sacrifice on the cross, as the great 
 argument to bestow gospel blessings on those for 
 whom he hath thus purchased them. So that you 
 evidently see, that were not the atonement of Christ 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 649 
 
 satisfactory his intercession would be vain. And 
 can you imagine that God would ever have per- 
 mitted a person to enter heaven, and to take up his 
 stated residence there, under the character of an 
 intercessor, whose plea he had disallowed ? It were 
 most absurd to suppose it. The satisfaction of 
 Christ, therefore, appears to be complete, and con- 
 sequently his person divine, and therefore his saving 
 power almighty, from his ever living to make inter- 
 cession. And this the apostle seems plainly to 
 intimate in those memorable words : Who being the 
 brightness of the Father's glory, and the express 
 image of his person, and upholding all things by 
 the w ord of his power ; having, in consequence of 
 these divine perfections, by himself, that is, by the 
 sacrifice of himself, purged or expiated our sins, 
 sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high ; 
 which he could never have done under this public 
 character, had his nature been less glorious, and 
 so his atonement less complete. 
 
 2. The actual exercise of this intercession, " in 
 such an extent, does further imply divine perfec- 
 tions," and by consequence a fulness of saving 
 power. 
 
 I have before observed, that there is the greatest 
 reason to believe, the intercession of Christ is not 
 merely his appearance before God in the body in 
 which he sufll'ered ; but that it is attended with a 
 constant and ardent intention, that his death may 
 be effectual to the purposes designed, not only for 
 his people in general, but for each of them in par- 
 ticular : and I endeavoured to show you, that it 
 implied a care correspondent to their various cir- 
 cumstances, that grace might be accommodated to 
 every time of need. Now this plainly implies a 
 knowledge extending itself even to omniscience ; a 
 knowledge of the hearts, as well as the conditions, of 
 his people ; a knowledge of those unutterable breath- 
 ings, in which often the most valuable part of prayer 
 consists, and of those secret assaults and strugglings 
 which are often the most painful scenes through 
 which the Christian passes. Yet such a know ledge 
 must the great Intercessor have, notonly of one parti- 
 cular person, but of each and of all the children of 
 God that are scattered abroad in the most distant na- 
 tions of the earth, and all at the same moment of time. 
 Surely we must say, such knowledge is too won- 
 derful for us ; it is high, we cannot attain unto it : 
 especially when we consider it as joined with the 
 administration of that universal kingdom over which 
 he is exalted. In this view the humble soul must 
 fall prostrate before him in the lowliest homage, 
 and cry out, " My Lord and my God ! Thou art 
 indeed able to save to the uttermost : nothing can 
 exceed the penetration of thy wisdom, or the extent 
 of thy power." 
 
 3. " The perpetuity of Christ's intercession is a 
 further argument of his ability always to save." 
 
 In this view the apostle introduces the thought; 
 He is able to save to the uttermost, — seeing he ever 
 lives to make intercession. It is an encouragement 
 to our believing application unto him, as the Lord 
 mighty to save, when we consider, that in the prose- 
 cution of so amazing an employ, he fainteth not, 
 neither is weary. Had it been the appointment of 
 the Father, that he should have retired from the 
 oflice of an intercessor, after he had attended to it 
 for some few days or years, we must by faith have 
 looked to a past, as the Old-Testament saints did 
 to a future, transaction : butsurely our comfort could 
 not have risen so high, as it now does, when we re- 
 flect, " Even at this moment is Christ appearing in 
 heaven for me : he is there as the refuge of his 
 people throughout all generations ; and I have all 
 imaginable security of his saving power, because 
 his one offering has so fully completed the work, 
 that he needs not come down to earth again, by 
 dying to renew the sacrifice that he presented here. 
 No ; the efficacy of it is everlasting, as his inter- 
 cession upon it is perpetual." This seems plainly 
 the apostle's meaning, by what he adds just after 
 the text ; — Such a High Priest became us, — who 
 needeth not, as those high priests under the law, 
 daily to offer; — having done it once for all, when he 
 offered up himself. 
 
 III. It only remains, that I conclude with a few 
 obvious but important reflections. 
 
 1. How admirable and how amiable does the 
 blessed Jesus appear, when considered as the great 
 intercessor of his people ! 
 
 How admirable is he in this view ! What an 
 honour is done him in the heavenly world ! How 
 dear to the Father does he appear to be, when God 
 will not accept the services of the greatest and best 
 of mankind, unless presented by him ; and for his 
 sake will graciously regard the meanest and vilest 
 sinner ! And how great does this intercessor ap- 
 pear in himself! " Blessed Jesus," may the Chris- 
 tian say, " who is like unto thee, who canst at once 
 sustain so many diflerent relations, and canst fill 
 them all with their proper offices, of duty to thy 
 Father, and of love to thy j)cople ! who canst thus 
 bear, without encumbering thyself, without interfer- 
 ing with each other, the priestly censer and the 
 royal sceptre ! How wise are thy counsels ! IIow 
 extensive thy views ! How capacious thy thoughts! 
 and yet, at the same time, how compassionate thy 
 gracious heart ! That amidst all the exaltations of 
 heaven, all the splendours of thy Father's right 
 hand, thou shouldst still thus graciously remember 
 fhinc humble followers ! That thine eye should be 
 always watchful over them, thine ear be always 
 open to their prayers, thy mouth be ever ready to 
 plead for them, and thine arm to save them ! A.s 
 if it were not love enough to descend and die, un- 
 less thou didst for ever live and reign for them, and 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 even glory in ])cinp made bead over all for thy 
 church." 
 
 " But especially," may the Christian say, " when 
 I think, of thee, blessed Jesus, not only as the inter- 
 cessor of thy people in g;cneral, but as my interces- 
 sor ; when I tliink that thou hast espoused my 
 character and my cause, vile and obnoxious as it 
 is ; and that tliou art rccommendin<j my poor broken 
 servires, wliich I daily blush to present before tliec ; 
 and art tisino; thine interest and thine authority in 
 the world above, to complete my salvation, which 
 thou hast begun ; wliat shall thy poor servant say 
 unto thee ? All these astonishing and kind regards 
 to me, who am unworthy to wash the feet of the 
 least of thy followers ! Shall not the wonders of 
 such condescending grace engage my gratitude to 
 all eternity ! My praises now are so exceeding 
 feeble, and so low, I am almost ashamed to offer 
 them : O w hen shall those nobler praises begin, 
 which I hope ere long to ofler in that world of per- 
 fection to which thy gracious intercession is bring- 
 ing me V 
 
 2; With what holy joy may the Christian reflect 
 on his interest in such an intercessor ! 
 
 Methinks we should often be entering into this 
 pleasurable thought. The Lord Jesus is pleading 
 for us above, and he ever lives to make intercession 
 there. We had pious friends, who were once bear- 
 ing us on their liearts before God in prayer ; but 
 they are now sleeping in the dust : our dear reli- 
 gious parents, our holy ministers, our guides and 
 companions in the ways of God I We have no 
 warrant to expect any further assistance from their 
 prayers. In this sense, Abraham is ignorant of us, 
 and Israel does not, and cannot, acknowledge us : 
 but Christ is an ever-living intercessor, without 
 whose interposition theirs had been vain, and in 
 comparison with wliom we have none on earth or 
 in heaven to desire. Let papists commit them- 
 selves to the patronage of angels and saints, and 
 by a voluntary and offensive humility, entreat them 
 to intercede with God, or to intercede with Christ 
 in their favour: as Christ has by one ofl'ering per- 
 fected for ever them that are sanctified ; so by one 
 continual intercession, in which he needs and ad- 
 mits no associate, he for ever secures them. 
 
 3. With what holy boldness may the Christian 
 draw near to God, in dependence on such an inter- 
 cessor ! 
 
 We have daily important errands to the throne 
 of grace ; and perhaps hardly any thing would 
 more promote the success of them, than to lift up 
 a cheerful and believing eye, as expecting to re- 
 ceive something from God's hand. A conscious- 
 ness of our own numberless imperfections and de- 
 fects may indeed discourage us ; a sense of our 
 guilt might even fright us away : but when we see 
 Jesus standing before the throne, in such a posture. 
 
 in such a character, surely we may venture near; 
 and when most awed, and most dismayed, may en- 
 courage ourselves in him. This is an inference which 
 (he apostle draws, and which he repeats again and 
 again : Seeing we have a great High Priest, that is 
 passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God ; 
 let us come boldly to the throne of gra(!e, that we 
 may obtain mercy, and lind grace to help in every 
 time of need ; for surely, neitlier mercy to pardon, 
 nor grace to strengthen, will now be withheld. 
 Havingtherefore boldness (as lie elsewhere expresses 
 it) to enter into the holiest by tlie blood of Jesus, 
 by that new and living way which he hath conse- 
 crated for us, — let us draw near: and O that we 
 may ever do it with a true heart, since there is so 
 blessed a foundation laid for a full assurance of 
 faith .' 
 
 4. What reason is there to adore the divine wis- 
 dom and goodness, in appointing so excellent a 
 way, at once to promote our humility and our con- 
 tidence ! 
 
 You have seen, how justly it may establish our 
 faith, to consider, that though we are unworthy for 
 whom any thing should be done, yet Christ is 
 worthy: and I may add, that in appointing him 
 to be our intercessor, God liath declared his own 
 favourable regard to us, and w e may comfortably 
 conclude, that the Father himself lovcth us. Yet 
 this love is manifested, as in a very gracious, 
 so also in a very humbling, way. This token of 
 divine displeasure against sin is yet upon us, 
 that we are not allowed to draw near to him in 
 our own name, or to expect the least favour for 
 our own sake ; but he still keeps us at a humble 
 distance, nor will he permit us to see his face, un- 
 less our elder Brother be with us. And as he 
 treated Eliphaz and his companions, saying. My 
 wrath is kindled against you ; take now an ofl'ering, 
 and go to my servant Job, and he shall pray for you, 
 and him will I accept ; lest I deal with you after 
 your folly : thus God refuses to look on the best 
 of our ofierings, if they do not pass through a more 
 acceptable hand. How awful a reflection, and how 
 wise a provision, to promote that humility, which 
 so well becomes pardoned rebels, before the holy, 
 injured Majesty of heaven ! This is, as he expresses 
 it by Ezekiel, That we may remember our way, and 
 be confounded, and never open our mouths any 
 more, because of our shame, even when he is paci- 
 fied towards us for all that we have done. 
 
 Lastly, How powerfully should this comfortable 
 doctrine operate on our minds, to promote our love 
 to this great intercessor, and our zeal for his honour 
 and glory ! 
 
 " Blessed Lord," should each of us say, " dost 
 thou remember such a worthless worm amidst all 
 thine honour and joy above, and shall not I remem- I 
 berthee, the King of glory? Where should my heart i 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 651 
 
 be but with tliee? On what should I set my affec- 
 tions, but on those things which are above, where 
 thou sittest at the right hand of God ? My riglit- 
 eousness and my strength, mine advocate and my 
 guardian ! shall I be unmindful of thee ? While 
 thou art pleading my cause in heaven, shall I not 
 be joyfully willing to plead thy sacred and honour- 
 able cause on earth ? Rather, much rather, may I 
 forget the powers of reason, and lose the faculty of 
 speech, than neglect to use them for thee : rather 
 may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, 
 than it should be ashamed, or afraid, to vindicate 
 thy gospel, though I stood alone in a crowd of in- 
 sulting blaspheming enemies, and though they add- 
 ed cruelty and terror to their impieties. So mayst 
 thou confess me before thy Father and the holy 
 angels, in the last solemn day, as I determine that 
 I will confess thee now, though this crooked and 
 perverse generation should grow still more degene- 
 rate than it is." 
 
 Christians, if we have not such sentiments and 
 resolutions as these, I fear we have no title to any 
 of the comforts of Christ's intercession, and shall 
 have no share in its invaluable blessings. 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 
 COSnNG TO GOD BY" CHRIST, THE CHARACTER OF 
 THOSE THAT SHALL BE SAVED. 
 
 Heb. vii. 25. 
 
 Wherefore he is able also to save them to the utter- 
 most that come unto God by him, seeing he ever 
 liveth to make intercession for them. 
 
 When the Psalmist had been celebrating the ma- 
 jesty of God, as the almighty Creator and Possessor 
 of all, he breaks out into this most natural and 
 important inquiry, Who shall ascend into the hill of 
 the Lord? and who shall stand in his holy place ? 
 And methinks, Christians, when we have been 
 hearing of the boundless power of Ciirist to save, 
 and of the prevalency of that intercession which he 
 ever lives to make, we should immediately cry out, 
 " Who are the happy souls, in whose rescue this 
 almighty arm shall be emj)loyed, and whose cause 
 this gracious intercessor will undertake always to 
 plead ?" The text answers the question in a very 
 edifying and satisfactory manner, though in few 
 words ; They are such as come unto God by him. 
 
 You know that from this scripture I have already 
 considered, 
 
 I. What we are to understand by Christ's being 
 able to save to the uttermost. 
 
 II. What evidences we have, that he is really so. 
 
 III. I have considered the particular argument 
 
 for it, which the apostle here draws, from his ever 
 living to make intercession. 
 
 It only remains, that I now open, 
 
 IV. Tiie character of the persons who are en- 
 couraged to expect a share in this salvation ; they 
 are such as come unto God by him. 
 
 Now before I proceed to the more particular dis- 
 cussion of these words, you must give me leave to 
 observe, that they seem in their primary and strict- 
 est sense to signify " an approach to God in the 
 solemnities of religious worship, in the name of 
 Christ as the great intercessor." 
 
 As when the Jewish people were honoured with 
 the abode of the Shechinah, the visible token of the 
 divine presence, they did in their highest religious 
 solemnities approach to that, surrounding with their 
 sacrifices and their prayers the tabernacle or tem- 
 ple where it held its residence ; hence it seems to 
 have come to pass, that the phrases of coming to 
 God, coming into his presence, and drawing near 
 to him, were often used to express the acts of divine 
 worship. And as the priests w ere admitted to come 
 nearer to the ark, on which this visible glory usually 
 rested, than others even of that holy nation, they 
 are with peculiar propriety spoken of, as drawing 
 near to God. We may also add, that forasmuch as 
 once a year the high priest went into the holy of 
 holies, in the name of the whole congregation, with 
 the blood of victims offered to expiate their sins ; 
 they might properly, at that solemn season, be said 
 to come unto God by him. And the connexion of 
 these words, as I have largely shown, does most 
 evidently imply an allusion to these Jewish rites, 
 and a regard to Christ as the great high priest of 
 our profession. 
 
 But it would be very imprudent, and unsafe, to 
 leave the matter thus generally explained. Salva- 
 tion is here promised, to all that come unto God by 
 Christ ; as it elsewhere is, to all that call on the 
 name of the Lord. Yet most certain it is, from the 
 whole fenor of Scripture, that there a.e multitudes 
 who call on his name, and transmit their petitions 
 to God in a professed dependence on his mediation 
 and intercession, whose persons and services God 
 will reject with abhorrence ; who shall see salvation 
 only from afar, and never be i)ermitte[l to taste of it. 
 And therefore it is manifest, that, to make the 
 Scripture consistent with itself, these phrases, when 
 connected in such a manner, must be taken in a 
 much larger extent, as compreliending all that, by 
 wliich the acceptal)Ie worshipper, and (he true be- 
 liever, is distinguished from the hypocritical pro- 
 fessor, who draws near to God only to dishonour 
 him, and to bring on himself aggravated guilt and 
 condemnation. 
 
 And by consequence, coming to God, as the 
 phrase is here used, must signify in the general, 
 " applying ourselves with the greatest seriousness 
 
653 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 to our important business willi him ;" as such ex- 
 pressions often sijfnify, when they are put for the 
 whole of relij;ion : and coniinR through Christ must 
 imply, " such humble and faitliful regards to him 
 as the great mediator, such a cordial acceptance of 
 him, such a cheerful dependence upon him," as is 
 so often in the New Testament expressed by that 
 faith in him, to whicli the j)roniises of eternal salva- 
 tion arc made, and to w hich they arc limited. 
 
 But since it is a matter of so great moment, and a 
 matter in which it is to he feared so many are de- 
 ceiving their own souls, give me leave to descend 
 into some particulars of explication. And let me 
 entreat your diligent attention, and beseech you, as 
 you dread the ruin of the hypocrites in Sion, that 
 you enter seiiously into your own hearts, and judge 
 yourselves, as persons that expect shortly to be 
 judged of the Lord. O that, through the sanctify- 
 ing, the quickening, and the witnessing influences 
 of the Holy Spirit, we might see the characters 
 which are now to be drawn, more and more evident- 
 ly agreeing to ourselves. 
 
 The believer you see is here described, — as 
 coming to God,— and as coming to him through 
 Christ. 
 
 I. The believer is described, " as one that comes 
 to God." 
 
 This evidently implies, — a firm persuasion of his 
 being and attributes, — a deep conviction that it is 
 our highest interest to secure his favour, — a readi- 
 ness to renounce whatever can come in competition 
 with it,- — a cheerful and resolute subjection to his 
 service, — and a care to keep up a continual corres- 
 pondence with him, and to live as in a state of 
 nearness to him. 
 
 1. Coming to God evidently implies, " a firm 
 belief of his being and perfections." 
 
 This the apostle asserts in express words, which 
 carry their own evidence along with them : He that 
 cometh unto God, must believe that he is, and that 
 he is the rewarder of them that diligently seek him. 
 And indeed the latter is as necessary as the former ; 
 for merely to believe a first cause of almighty power 
 and consummate skill, as some pretend to do, with- 
 out any sense of his providence, government, and 
 goodness, is, with regard to all the purposes of 
 practical religion, as vain and as pernicious as 
 atheism itself. 
 
 But you w ill remember, that a good man does not 
 rest in such a cold assent to the truth of these doc- 
 trines, like that lie gives to propositions which he 
 studies only for amusement. No, but they descend 
 into the mind witii a due energy, and he realizeth 
 them to himself with the utmost seriousness. " O 
 my .soul," does he often say, " it is not a piecarious 
 conclusion, or a mere probable hypothesis, that 
 there is a God, and such a God as I profess to be- 
 lieve ; but it is a most certain and evident truth. 
 
 I do not more clearly see the meridian sun by his 
 own rays, nor more surely know, that I myself think 
 and exist, than I see God by his works, and know 
 him as the original author of my being, and of 
 these thinking powers which are now inquiring 
 after liiin. There is, there is an eternal and immu- 
 table Jehovah. He reigns on an exalted throne 
 above, and the highest potentate of that shining 
 world is inlinilcly more inferior to him, than supe- 
 rior to the meanest insect on earth. God is there, 
 and he is here ; he surrounds all his creatures with 
 his immensity, and preserves them ail by his in- 
 lluenec. In him 1 live, and move, and have my 
 being ; on him angels and worms are equally de- 
 pendent ; nor is there a motion in the material, or 
 a thought in the intellectual, world, to which he is 
 not most intimately conscious. Behold him, O my 
 soul, with reverence and love; for he is a most 
 awful Being, in whom unsearchable wisdom, and 
 almighty power, are joined with unerring justice, 
 unspotted holiness, and invariable truth ; but re- 
 member, he is also the most amiable. There is a 
 beauty in all these perfections ; and it is softened 
 and sweetened by the overflowings of goodness and 
 mercy ; those rich and gentle streams, which not 
 only water paradise, but visit these regions of guilt 
 and darkness." 
 
 Such views as these are familiar to the mind of 
 the believer : and this firm and afl'ectionate per- 
 suasion of the being and attributes of God, is the 
 foundation both of natural and revealed religion ; 
 and the root from whence all the branches of moral 
 virtue, and evangelical faith and holiness, must 
 spring. 
 
 2. Coming to God must also imply, " an earnest 
 desire of a share in the divine favour, as our highest 
 interest and happiness." 
 
 And methinks this is a necessary consequence of 
 the former. We are indeed too apt to lift up our 
 soul unto vanity, and to grow fond of these empty 
 shadows : but it is because God is forgotten ; as we 
 admire the stars, liccause the sun is absent. But 
 surely, when the mind is thus possessed with a sense 
 of God, it will feel a kind of indignation, that any 
 other object should have ever been compared with 
 him, though it were only to be postponed, as incon- 
 ceivably less valuable. Much more will it be dis- 
 pleased and ashamed to think, that it has ever 
 preferred these to God. " Alas," will such a soul 
 say, " whither have I wandered ? Into what wil- 
 derness am I come? I look round about me on the 
 creatures, and I see no shelter nor refreshment. 
 They arc like broken cisterns, or deceitful brooks, 
 whose waters fail me when I need them most. 
 What then, O Lord, do I wait for? my hope is in 
 thee ; for thou art the fountain of living waters ; all- 
 sufficient for my happiness, and only sullicient for it. 
 If I were a poor abandoned outcast, if I had not a 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 6d3 
 
 friend or helper on earth, if I knew not where I 
 should look for my next lodging, or my next meal ; 
 if at the same time my body were worn out with 
 pining illness, and every member of it the seat of 
 pain ; yet if I could but look up, and see thy face 
 through tliis cloud, if I could but call thee my 
 Father and my God, I were happy still ; and might 
 pity the most prosperous monarch on earth, that 
 was a stranger to thee, and thy love. There are 
 many that say. Who will show us any good ? O 
 that thy Spirit may teach them truer wisdom ! But 
 as for me, I will still say, Lord, lift thou up the 
 light of thy countenance upon me. Whom have I 
 in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon earth 
 that I desire besides thee." In consequence of 
 this, 
 
 3. Coming to God implies, " a readiness to for- 
 sake every thing which can stand in opposition to 
 him." 
 
 My brethren, what I have been describing is, in 
 a good man, not merely a conviction of the under- 
 standing, but a sentiment of the heart. He would 
 abhor the hypocrisy, the impiety, and the folly of 
 owning the incomparable excellence of the divine 
 Being, and yet practically choosing something else 
 before him. " Lord," does he sometimes say, " I 
 have often done it ; and for ever blessed be thy 
 name, that thou didst not finally choose those my 
 delusions. It grieves me to think, how I injured 
 thee, and dishonoured and wronged my own soul, 
 when other lords had dominion over me: and they 
 would detain me in their ignoble servitude ; but in 
 answer to all their unreasonable claims, I make 
 mention of thy name. Thou requirest that I should 
 give thee my very heart, and should be ready to 
 leave all and follow thee. Lord, I would cheerfully 
 consent; and hope that through grace I can say. 
 None of these things move me ; neither should I, in 
 such a cause, count my life dear unto me." 
 
 4. Coming to God does further import, " a 
 willing subjection to his service." 
 
 " Lord," does the Christian say, " I would come 
 to thee, not to sit down under thy shadow indolent 
 and unactive. My faculties were made for em- 
 ployment ; and it is my joy to think, that they shall 
 be employed for thee. I love thee with all my heart, 
 and with all my soul ; and therefore, by theaidsofthy 
 grace, I will serve thee with all my might, and with all 
 my strength. I would gladly yield myself to thee, as 
 alive from the dead, and use my members as in- 
 struments of righteousness. Thy promises are my 
 delight, as I trust they are my portion ; but, Lord, 
 they are not tlie only part of thy word that I love ; 
 for I delight myself in thy statutes, and love thy 
 commandments above gold, yea, above fine gold. 
 I account thy service mine honour and my happi- 
 ness ; I desire always to keep the eye of my soul 
 directed towards thee, to wait the in imations of 
 
 thy gracious pleasure ; and if I am distinguished 
 from others by any advantages of nature, or of cir- 
 cumstances, I would chiefly rejoice in them, as 
 they are capable of being improved for thee." 
 
 5. Coming unto God does also imply, " the keep- 
 ing up a constant correspondence with him." 
 
 I before observed, that this phrase, in the present 
 connexion, seems particularly to refer to our ap- 
 proaching him in the solemnities of religious wor- 
 ship : and when it is spoken of as a part of the 
 Christian's character, it plainly intimates a fre- 
 quent and constant care in these duties. Thus good 
 men under the old law are described, as a genera- 
 tion of them that seek God. " Lord," does every 
 child of God often think and say, " it is indeed 
 good for me to draw near unto thee. What is my 
 great final hope, but to dwell in a state of everlast- 
 ing nearness ? In the mean time, the nearer I am to 
 thee, the more of heaven is brought down to earth ; 
 the more I enjoy of thee, the more do I enjoy myself, 
 and relish my being. I make my visits to thy 
 throne, not merely to pay a homage which thou 
 requirest, but to seek an entertainment which I 
 prefer to any other. Far from looking upon it as a 
 disagreeable condition, with which my expectations 
 from thee are clogged, I count the opportunities of 
 such converse, and my inclinations towards it, in 
 the number of my greatest obligations to thy good- 
 ness." Should God say to the Cluistian, " I will for 
 the future dispense with thine attendance ; thou shalt 
 retain thine interest in me, though thou shouldst 
 call upon me no more ; and shalt meet me as thy 
 friend at death, though thou forgettest me in life ;" 
 the good man w ould not be able to bear such a dis- 
 mission. He would rather say, " Lord, if I were to 
 live only on these terms, it were much better for 
 me to die. I should, with Moses, in another case, 
 pray thee to kill me out of hand, rather than leave 
 me here under such a burthen as life would seem, 
 if it might not be sweetened by communion with 
 thee, in the closet, in the family, and in public 
 ordinances." 
 
 These, ray brethren, are important parts of the 
 Christian's character, yet they are far from being 
 the whole of it. With this temper he comes to God ; 
 but how should he be encouraged to such an ap- 
 proach, if the great Redeemer were forgot? We add, 
 therefore, 
 
 IF. That all to whom salvation is promised in the 
 gospel, " make their approach to God through 
 Christ," or, as the text expresses it, they come unto 
 (Jod by him. 
 
 Yo\i w ill no doubt be willing that I should open 
 this important article pretty largely ; and I shall do 
 it under the following particulars. Coming to God 
 by (Christ implies, — a deep sense of our need of a 
 Mediator, in order' to our comfortable intercourse 
 n ith God ; — a persuasion of tiie power of Christ, — 
 
654 
 
 SEKMONS. 
 
 and a conficloiicc in liis grace ; — a cordial approba- 
 tion of the method in which he bestows salvation ; 
 — and a constant care to maintain proper regards to 
 Christ, in tlie whole course of our walking with 
 God. This is that evangelical faith, to which tlie 
 promises of gospel salvation are appropriated, by 
 the text before us. and the whole tenor of Scripture. 
 
 1. Coming to God by Christ implies, " a deep 
 sense of our need of a mediator, in order to a com- 
 fortable intercourse with God." 
 
 Christianity is the religion of sinners ; and it will 
 never be really welcome to a soul that is not sensi- 
 ble of the evil and malignity of sin. The natural 
 pride of our hearts would lirst lead us to forget 
 God, and not to seek after him at all ; but if con- 
 science be in any measure awakened to see (what 
 it is strange every rational creature should not 
 always see) our dependence on him, and our need 
 of an interest in his favour, pride finds a second 
 refuge, in a fond conceit of bringing something of 
 our own to recommend us to it. And if at length 
 men are sensible they have nothing of this kind 
 which they can call their own, they are ready to 
 think of casting themselves immediately on the 
 mercies of an oflended God, rather than of multi- 
 plying their obligations and their dependence, by 
 coming to liini through a mediator. If we must 
 own ourselves sinners, we are prone to extenuate 
 our guilt ; and if we cannot look upon it as an in- 
 difiereut, would at least represent it as an excusa- 
 ble, thing, which is worthy of compassion, rather 
 than of indignation. How difficult is it to view it 
 in a true liglit! to see what insolence and baseness 
 it carries in it, and what danger and ruin it exposes 
 us to! But divine grace makes way for the gospel 
 into our hearts, by displaying tlie justice and the 
 holiness of God, as equally essential to liis nature 
 w ith his w isdom and goodness : and then, when we 
 consider ourselves as appearing in his presence, 
 convicted of ten thousand aggravated offences, we 
 cry out from a deep and inw ard sense, " Who is 
 able to stand before this holy Lord God ? where- 
 with shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself 
 before the high God ! .Surely I need some perfectly 
 righteous Mediator, high in his favour, to introduce 
 me to him, and to render my access safe and com- 
 fortable, by appearing as a days-man betwixt us, 
 to lay his hand upon us both." 
 
 2. Coming to God by Christ further implies, " a 
 full persuasion of his saving power." 
 
 We have been endeavouring to prove it at large ; 
 and the conviction of it enters deep into the believ- 
 ing soul. He assents to this most concerning truth 
 with full satisfaction, though there be something in 
 the foundation of it which feeble reason cannot fully 
 comprehend. Important as he sees his everlasting 
 concerns to be, he can courageously venture them 
 here ; he can cry out, " Lord, I belie\ e," though a 
 
 mixture of unbelief may cost him many a tear. 
 " Lord," does he often say, " I am sure, that if thou 
 wilt, thou canst make me clean. Though Jew and 
 Gentile may reject thee, I humbly own thee, as the 
 head-stone of the corner. O that I were but as 
 sure of an interest in thee, as I might be of finding 
 my security and my happiness in it." 
 
 3. It further implies, " a cheerful confidence in 
 the grace of Christ," as well as a persuasion of his 
 saving power. 
 
 Without this he would appear the object of ter- 
 ror, rather than of hope ; or in the mildest view, but 
 as a spring shut up, and a fountain sealed, to a 
 traveller languishing and dying with thirst. But 
 faith teaches the Christian firmly to rely on that 
 kind and gracious invitation. If any man thirst, let 
 him come unto me and drink. " Yes," says the 
 believer, " it is indeed so. The compassions of his 
 heart are proportionable to the power of his hand ; 
 and I will cast my soul upon them. Blessed Jesus, 
 I would throw myself at thy feet, though it were a 
 supposable case, that I might perish there, and but 
 an uncertain peradventure, that thou mightest pity 
 and save me ; for if thou shouldst not, I could but 
 die ; and I had rather die a humble penitent, than 
 an obstinate rebel : but forgive that unworthy 
 thought, — that thou shouldst leave a humble peni- 
 tent to die before thee ! Neither thy grace, nor thy 
 truth, will permit it. Him that cometh to thee, thou 
 wilt in no wise cast out: and though I am a poor, 
 weak, worthless creature, thou camest not to call 
 the righteous but sinners to repentance ; and thou 
 callest them in so compassionate a manner, as to 
 engage that thou wilt not break the bruised reed, 
 nor quench the smoking (lax. Let Christ be true, 
 whoever is a liar." Thus do his doubts gradually 
 disperse ; thus does he rise to a joy and peace in 
 believing. But it is always to be remembered, 
 
 4. That coming to God by Christ includes, "a 
 cordial approbation and acceptance of the methods 
 of his saving grace." 
 
 This is of the highest importance, if we would 
 not deceive ourselves to our eternal ruin. Men 
 may dress up an idol in their own minds, and call 
 it by the name of Christ ; and they may be as fond 
 of it as pagans are of the works of their own 
 hands : but can this save them, if it be found that 
 the true Christ, as exhibited in the gospel, has been 
 overlooked and rejected by them ? A true believer 
 impartially inquires after the way in which salva- 
 tion is proposed in the word of God ; and when he 
 has discovered it, he entirely approves it, as a faith- 
 ful saying, worthy of God to appoint, and most fit 
 for him to accept. More particularly he views it, 
 and acquiesces in it, as the way of faith, and the 
 way of holiness. Each of these vie«s of it will 
 deserve our further attention. 
 
 The good man heartily desires to receive the 
 
ON THE POWER AND 
 
 GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 655 
 
 gospel salvation, " in the way of faith, or humble 
 believing." 
 
 It is thus the word of God always exhibits it : 
 the just shall live by faith; nor shall any flesh 
 glory in his presence. And so entirely is every 
 high thought reduced to the obedience of this 
 blessed principle, in the heart of him that comes to 
 God by Christ, that he is willing to do, what to so 
 corrupt a nature as ours seems most expensive, to 
 buy wine and milk without money and without 
 price ; willing to part with the very dearest of his 
 idols, to renounce all dependence on himself, as 
 to what is past, or what is yet to come ; to trust no 
 more in his own righteousness, or his own strength ; 
 and to say with the most joyful consent of soul. In 
 the Lord have I both righteousness and strength. 
 " Blessed Jesus, it is hard to my proud heart to say 
 it ; but it is therefore so much the more reasonable 
 and necessary : for this cursed dependence on self 
 has spoiled the best of my duties, and would betray 
 me to guilt and ruin in many future instances, 
 shouldst thou forsake me. How imperfect and 
 sinful are my best days, and my holiest hours ! 
 how feeble and ineffectual my most vigorous and 
 solemn resolutions, against so much inward cor- 
 ruption, and so many outward enemies and tempta- 
 tions ! Lord, I am distressed, but I hope thou hast 
 undertaken for me. I hope I may look on thee as 
 my great surety and covenant-head, who didst, be- 
 fore the foundation of the world, engage to satisfy 
 for my breaches of thy Fathei-'s law, to work out 
 for me a perfect righteousness, and by thy always 
 victorious power and grace, to conduct me to glory, 
 in the midst of all opposition. Eternal life is the 
 gift of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord ; from 
 his hand would I most thankfully receive this crown, 
 and at his feet would I humbly lay it!" On the 
 other hand. 
 
 It is to be remembered. That as Christ saves his 
 people " in the way of holiness," the true believer 
 most cordially falls in with this part of the scheme. 
 
 Indeed he could not otherwise be a believer in the 
 gospel sense of the word; for saving faith is a prin- 
 ciple of holy obedience ; and a faitii without works 
 is expressly declared to be dead, as the body is 
 dead when without the spirit. Tiie Christian well 
 knows, tliat it was the great design of his Lord's 
 appearance and sufl'crings in the flesh, that he might 
 bring us to God, that he might save his people from 
 their sins, and purify ttiem to himself, as a peculiar 
 people, zealous of good works. And how reason- 
 able is this part of the scheme ! " Could I," says 
 he, " have desired, that it should have been other- 
 wise ? that the Holy Jesus should have been the 
 minister of sin? that he, whose great business it 
 was to honour the law of God, should have dissolved 
 our obligations to it, and have given a license to 
 his followers to continue the servants of corruption. 
 
 even while they call him their Lord ? or could I ask 
 it, or even so much as wish it, that he should dis- 
 tinguish me from others, by a dispensation of that 
 kind? Unreasonable and detestable thought ! Lord, 
 I desire not, I understand not, a salvation, of which 
 holiness shall not be an essential part. And though 
 I w ell know, that many precepts of thy gospel are 
 sublime, and diflicult; and that they may be justly 
 represented, by cutting off' a right hand, and pluck- 
 ing out a right eye ; yet through thy grace I can 
 say, I esteem all thy precepts concerning all things 
 to be riglit, and hate every false way. Blessed 
 Jesus, thou art most welcome to my soul, as made 
 of God unto me, sanctification, as well as righteous- 
 ness and redemption. Give me thy Spirit to lead 
 me, and I will follow with pleasure ; draw me, and 
 I will run after thee in the way which thou thyself 
 hast traced ; for thou who knowest all things, 
 knowest that it is the desire of my soul, to be con- 
 formed to thee in holiness now, as well as in glory 
 hereafter." I shall only add, 
 
 5. Coming to God by Christ does further express 
 " a continual care to maintain proper regards to 
 him, in the whole course of our walking with God." 
 
 He is not considered only as a Mediator to intro- 
 duce us at first into the divine presence, and so to 
 settle a correspondence, to be carried on afterwards 
 without any further use of him ; but as that blessed 
 and important person, through whom we have con- 
 tinually access by one Spirit unto the Father. 
 " Lord," does the Christian often say, not merely as 
 a language learned from others, but as expressive 
 of what he feels in his own soul, " thou art indeed 
 my life. How should the branches grow, but by 
 sap derived from the root ? How should the members 
 act, but by influences communicated from the head ? 
 Teach me by thy grace to say with thine holy apos- 
 tle, I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me ; and 
 the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the 
 faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave 
 himself for me. And may I ever be found in the 
 number of those, w ho, regarding thcc as tlie living 
 stone, are by a union witli thee, as lively stones, 
 builded up together for a habitation of God through 
 the Spirit ! Thus let me pass through the wilderness 
 of life, leaning on tlicc as the beloved of my soul ; 
 and when I have linislicd my pilgrimage, may I lay 
 down my weary head in thy gentle, faithful bosom, 
 dying, as I have lived, in the exercise of faith, and 
 commending my spirit into thy hands I" — This is 
 the character of those, who come unto God by 
 Christ ; and in these respects may they say, with the 
 beloved disciple, " Truly our fellowship is with the 
 Father, and with his Son Jesus (Christ." 
 
 I shall not enter on a laboured argument to prove, 
 that these particulars are comprehended in the words 
 which the text uses, to describe those who are 
 interested in the gospel salvation. It is a formality 
 
666 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 wliich may well be spared, to those who consider 
 the natural import of the phrase, and the general 
 tenor of the word of God ; and the scriptures wliich 
 I have introduced under each head, will easily 
 furnish out matter of proof, to those who arc capable 
 of judginjt of a more abstruse kind of argument than 
 I here think it proper to enter upon. 
 
 1 should rather choose to dilate on the practical 
 improvements, which mi^ht naturally arise from 
 tliis branch of my discourse ; and address myself to 
 you in such exhortations as these : — Let us adore 
 the divine goodness, that such a salvation is offered 
 to us, in so reasonable, so easy, and so gracious a 
 way: — Let us examine by the hints which have now 
 been proposed, whether we are in the number of 
 those who are interested in it : — Let those who are 
 convinced that they are not, be persuaded to reflect 
 on their present circumstances : Let those who are 
 alarmed with a sense of their present danger, be 
 persuaded, in the strength of divine grace, to come 
 unto God through Christ: — Let those who are sin- 
 cerely desirous to do it, be encouraged to pursue so 
 wise and necessary a purpose : — And let those who 
 have been enabled to comply with the exhortation, 
 be excited to peculiar thankfulness, and establislicd 
 in a cheerful hope of that salvation, which they are 
 taught to expect. But tliat I may not be under a 
 necessity of despatching these important heads in 
 a few hasty words, or of swelling this discourse to 
 an immoderate bulk, I choose to refer them to an- 
 other opportunity, when I shall conclude what I 
 have to offer from the text ; nor would it have em- 
 ployed us so long, had it not contained a variety of 
 very weighty and instructive matter. In the mean 
 time, may the hints I have now been giving you, be 
 so recollected and considered, as to prepare your 
 hearts for what is further to be spoken ! 
 
 SERMON XVI. 
 
 AN EXHORTATION TO SINNERS TO COME UNTO GOD 
 BY CHRIST. 
 
 Heb. vii. 25. 
 
 Wherefore he is able also to save them to the utter- 
 most that vntnc unto God hy him, seeivg he ever 
 liveth to ntahe intercession for them. 
 
 At length, my friends, I am entering on the last 
 discourse which I intend from these words. Our 
 meditations upon them had been drawn to a close 
 much sooner, had not many funeral discourses in- 
 terrupted them ; and you know, there were also 
 others of that kind, which did not interrupt them. 
 
 being preached on week days. But it is surely 
 most fit, that those awful providences, which for 
 awhile diverted our thoughts from this subject, 
 should now awaken our more diligent and lively 
 attention to it. It is not for mortal creatures to 
 trifle with these important truths of Christianity, on 
 which till! life of their souls does so evidently de- 
 pend : no, nor to rest in speculative views of thcni, 
 while heart application is neglected. The dying^ 
 and the dead, look upon these things in another 
 manner ; and we shall shortly be numbered amongst 
 them. The Lord awaken us now so to hear the 
 conclusion of the whole matter, as we shall then 
 wish we had heard it ! I have already endea- 
 voured, 
 
 I. To show you what we are to understand by 
 Christ's being able to save to the uttermost. 
 
 II. To prove that he is so. 
 
 III. To open the doctrine of his intercession, and 
 to consider what an argument it is of his saving 
 power. And then, 
 
 IV. I have considered the character of those who 
 shall be interested in this salvation, as described in 
 the text by their coming to God by him. 
 
 Under each of the tiiree former heads I have given 
 you several reflections ; and I am now to conclude 
 with others, which more immediately arise from the 
 fourth, especially when taken in connexion with 
 the foregoing. May each of you know your own 
 concern in them ; and may the blessed Spirit of 
 God apply them to your souls with divine efficacy 
 and success ! Suffer, I beseech you, this word of 
 exhortation to address you in these six particulars. 
 
 1. " Let us adore the divine goodness, that such 
 a salvation is ofl'ered us, in so reasonable, so easy, 
 and so gracious a way." 
 
 Such a salvation in any method might have been 
 joyfully welcome to us ; and how much more in 
 this ! Let us call in our roving thoughts, and settle 
 them for a while in this one point. Let us stand 
 still, and see the salvation of God. Surely, when 
 we consider our natural condition, in the view in 
 which the gospel represents it ; when we hear the 
 law of God thundering out its curses against us ; 
 when we see his justice lifting up its sword to smite 
 us, hell gaping to devour us, and its malicious fiends 
 eying us as their sure prey, and impatient to begin 
 our torment ; in such a view, it must have appeared 
 a great favour, had God heard the cry of our an- 
 guish and despair so far as to permit the rocks to 
 fall upon us, and the mountains to cover us, though 
 they had crushed us into atoms, and he had, at the 
 same time, extinguished the thinking part of our 
 nature, and reduced it to its original nothing. O 
 how gladly would millions that were once the rich, 
 the great, the learned, the victorious of the earth, 
 meet such a fate as this ; and perhaps be more 
 thankful for the destruction of their beings than 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 657 
 
 they ever were for any of its enjoyments ! But we 
 hear of being saved, — of being saved to the utter- 
 most ; — hear of it, not merely as a favour conferred 
 on others, but as an offer proposed to us ; as a 
 scheme not merely deliberated upon, or intended, 
 but in a great measure already eflected ; and our 
 eyes are directed to the regions of complete and 
 eternal glorj', as an abode purchased and prepared 
 for such worthless and guilty creatures as we. 
 " Blessed God, did our appointed way to it lie, 
 not only through a wilderness of thorns, but through 
 a sea of fire, how gladly might we accept the pro- 
 posals ! If the scheme had been to raise us to this 
 heavenly paradise after the severest course of 
 penance on earth, or even after we had tasted of 
 the cup of thy wrath in hell, and suffered all but 
 the despair of those doleful regions, for a long suc- 
 cession of years, or of ages ; surely we must then 
 have received the news of such a distant deliver- 
 ance on our knees, and have mingled thy praises 
 with those groans and tears which such intermediate 
 discipline had extorted from us. And dost thou 
 now offer us a complete pardon, in so easy a way, 
 as only to say, Wash and be clean, as only to call us 
 to come unto thee by Christ — Surely, Christians, 
 instead of complaining of this as a hardship, we 
 have reason to own it as a great additional' favour. 
 Whither indeed should we go but unto God ? and 
 where should we dwell safe and happy, but under 
 the shadow of his wings ? and how could we have 
 presumed, or indeed how could we have borne, to 
 have come to him otherwise than by Christ ? — It is 
 true indeed, that if we would enter into a treaty with 
 this Prince of Peace, we must give up our sins : 
 but what are these, but the tyrants of tlie mind, 
 whose reign is our servitude, whose death is our 
 deliverance ! — And what though we must give up 
 our own righteousness too ? as to any dependence 
 upon it for our justification before God, is there a 
 soul among us that would dare to stand or fall ac- 
 cording to the perfection of that ? And is there an 
 experienced Christian, that does not know tiierc is 
 a secret unutterable pleasure in submitting lo the 
 righteousness of God ; and a wise and rational 
 transport of soul, in receiving the rich grace given 
 us in Christ, to make us complete in him ; far be- 
 yond the vain joy of that distempered dream, which 
 represented us to our own imagination as rich and 
 honourable, righteous and happy, in the midst of 
 poverty and shame, guilt and misery ? Surely, if 
 we should hold our peace, when such a salvation is 
 proposed to us in such a method as this, it might 
 almost be expected that the very stones would cry 
 out, to upbraid our ingratitude. 
 
 2. "Let us seriously examine, whether we have 
 come to God by Christ, and so are interested in this 
 great salvation." 
 
 To each of you, my friends, that hear me this day, 
 2 V 
 
 is the word of this salvation sent ; and tliat you 
 have received the offers of it, will, on the whole, be 
 matter ef everlasting joy, or of everlasting sorrow. 
 The word of God assures us, that there are com- 
 paratively few that receive saving benefit by it ; 
 " many are called, but few are chosen." And does 
 it not alarm you ? Methinks, if there were only a 
 few out of considerable numbers, that missed it, 
 each of us should be ready to tremble for himself: 
 if we knew, that but one soul in all this assembly 
 should finally lose it, we might each of us cry out 
 with great solicitude of spirit, if in any degree un- 
 assured with regard to ourselves. Lord, is it I ? And 
 how much more now ? Are there any of you that 
 must say, " I do not certainly know whether this 
 salvation will be mine or not?" How can you bear 
 the uncertainty ? Let me charge it on your con- 
 sciences that you enter into the inquiry. Have you 
 come unto God by Christ ? I ask not so much, whe- 
 ther you believe the existence of God, and the truth 
 of Christianity ? This is a faith which you may carry 
 down with you to the habitation of devils, who 
 themselves also believe and tremble. — I ask not so 
 much, whether you have ever felt some desires 
 after an interest in God through Christ ? In this 
 respect, as well as in others, there is a desire of the 
 slothful that kills him, while it serves only to in- 
 crease his present disquietude, and his after-punish- 
 ment. — But I ask. What is on the whole your choice ? 
 What are your cares, your hopes, and your joys ? do 
 they centre in God ? do they arise from communion 
 with him through Christ ? Do you experimentally 
 know what it is to come to his throne, lo submit 
 your revolted souls to his government with delight ? 
 to wait the signal of his will, as the rule of your 
 actions ? to enjoy, or at least earnestly desire, the 
 visits of his grace, the effusions of his love on your 
 hearts? Is prayer your pleasure, or is it your bur- 
 then ? Do you regard the word of God as an in- 
 valuable treasury, or is it to you as a sealed book? 
 You have a thousand traces of the .subliniest devo- 
 tion and piety there ; can you relish them ? can you 
 find any considerable resemblance between your- 
 selves and those holy souls, whose characters are 
 there recorded and approved ? You call yourselves 
 Christians ; but do you know Christ, and do you 
 love him, and do you cordially approve of the me- 
 thods of his saving grace? Do you know what it 
 is to coipe and lay down your guilty souls, as under 
 the effusions of his blood ? to strip yourselves of all 
 the pride of nature, that your nakedness may be 
 i-lothed with his glorious righteousness? to bow to 
 his sceptre as his obedient subjects, and rejoice that 
 you have such a governor ? And do you feci tlie ne- 
 cessity of a daily application to him, as your great 
 covenant-head, on whose influcnc-e you live, and 
 by whose Spirit you must perpetually be actuated, 
 to the purposes of a divine life ? — These, these arc 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 Ilie decisive tiiirstions ; ami It t mo entreat you to 
 hear what eonseiem e has to reply to thcni. 
 
 And pcrnut ine once more to ask you, If you are 
 yet uncertain as to this important article, how it is 
 that this uncertainty sits upon your mind ? Are you 
 easy under it .' Do you carelessly defer tiie inquiry 
 from oye day to another, or purposely decline it, 
 because you are afraid of some consc(iucnccs which 
 may disturb you .' or do you renew your examina- 
 tions ag;ain and aijain, searching: for those scrip- 
 tures, and waiting for those parts of our public dis- 
 courses, which may pierce deepest, and try your 
 souls to the utmost; still, above all, begging that 
 God would search them ; and renewing your hum- 
 ble entreaties, that you may know the very worst of 
 your state, and be at length brought unto him 
 through Christ, though it were by the most painful 
 M'ay that any of his servants liave ever trod ? 
 
 As to some of you, perhaps, the case may require 
 further discussion ; but I believe there are others, 
 to whom it would be no long labour. I fear, even 
 while I am yet speaking, conscience must witness 
 against some of you, that you are utter strangers to 
 such a temper, and that you never came unto God 
 by Christ. And therefore, 
 
 3. " Let those who are conscious to themselves, 
 that they have never come unto God by Christ, be 
 engaged seriously to reflect on the danger of their 
 present condition." 
 
 I know the corruption of our hearts strongly 
 inclines us to think as favourably as possible of 
 ourselves, and eagerly to grasp the feeblest reed, 
 which n)ay give some present, thougli most pre- 
 carious, support to our hope : and I know, Satan 
 would fpvour the delusion to the utmost, because 
 he is aware, tliere is but a short time in which be 
 need labour to do it ; so that if he can amuse you a 
 few days, you are his prey for ever. It is our 
 business, as ministers of the gospel, to counter- 
 work these deceivers. O that God would teach us 
 to do it edectually ! Sinner, thou art convinced 
 in thy conscience, that thou art a stranger to the 
 temper and character described ; that thou art tlu^ 
 man, v hoiiast sat, perhaps many years, under tlie 
 sound of the gospel, and to this very day hast never 
 come unto God by Christ. And dost thou hope for 
 salvation by him, while this is the ease ? It is a 
 most arrogant and pernicious hope. I solemnly 
 declare unto thee this day, thou hast neither part 
 nor lot in this matter. Dost thou hope .' On what 
 foundation is it ? Show me one promise in the wiiolc 
 hook of God, that speaks pardon and peace to an 
 impenitent unbelieving sinner. Wilt thou say, 
 Christ is able to save to the uttermost? He is in- 
 deed so ; and yet it is no contradiction to declare, 
 that as things now stand, he cannot save thee : for 
 he cannot deny himself ; he cannot overthrow the 
 whole tenor of his gospel, and make himself the 
 
 minister of sin. You know he has expressly said. 
 If ye believe not that I am lie, ye shall die in your 
 sins ; nay, He that bclicveth not, shall be danmed. 
 You know, he has foretold, that he will anotlicr day 
 publicly say, As for those mine enemies, who would 
 not that I should reign over them, bring them hither, 
 and slay tiiem before me : and that so much more 
 dreadful condemnation awaits them, than fell on 
 the transgressors of Moses's law, though they died 
 without mercy, that it shall be more tolerable for 
 Sodom and Gomorrah in tiie day of judgment than 
 for such. And will your hopes still stand, while all 
 this dreadful artillery is planted directly against 
 them ? shall the earth be forsaken for thee, and the 
 rock be removed out of its place ? Rocks should 
 mucli sooner be removed, and all the eartli left 
 desolate, than the whole constitution of tlic gospel 
 shall be overthrown, lest thou shouldst perish. You 
 would not take poison, in hopes that God would 
 work a miracle to preserve your life. Yet you 
 might more reasonably expect this than the other ; 
 because it would not so directly contradict any of 
 the perfections of God, or any of his declarations. 
 The niatter is brought to a very short issue ; and it 
 requires no penetration, or labour of thought, to see 
 it. If the gospel be not true, there is no foundation 
 for expecting this salvation at all ; but if it be, you 
 are cut ofl' from any hope of it, while you continue 
 thus ; and you are, even whilst I speak, on the very 
 borders of hell. 
 
 And now, disarmed as you are of all these un- 
 availing hopes, sit down and enter deeply into your 
 present circumstances. " The Son of God became 
 incarnate, and lived and died to procure salvation 
 for such guilty worms as I : and I have heard of 
 this salvation ; but I have no share in it. To this 
 very hour, the wrath of God abideth on me. A 
 storm of vengeance is rising around me, and I am 
 excluded from the only ark in which I could be safe. 
 Excluded by what ? Why, to make it so much the 
 more grievous, by my own folly." If we were to 
 take upon us absolutely to pronounce concerning 
 any of you, that you were excluded from the offers 
 of gospel grace, you would no doubt resent it 
 highly ; as you reasonably might. Much more, 
 were it in the power of a fellow-mortal to deprive 
 you of all share in this great salvation, might you 
 cry out of it as a most hellish cruelty. You would 
 not for the world do this wrong to another, if it were 
 in your power. What! murder an immortal soul ? 
 you would tremble at the thought. But you tremble 
 not at the thing. It is what you are doing, while 
 you are rejecting the gospel. And will you never 
 have compassion on your own poor bleeding souls, 
 until the last incurable wound is given ? Yet a little, 
 a very little, while, O sinners, and you will lift up 
 your despairing eyes in the midst of your torments, 
 and behold this salvation from afar. And alas, in 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 659 
 
 how difTcTent a view will it then appear, even to 
 the most indolent and most presumptuous of you 
 all ! and how will it rend your very souls to think, 
 " it was offered to me, and I would not accept it !" 
 And what a doleful echo will there be amongst you, 
 when you, and ten thousand more miserable crea- 
 tures, are crying out, " There was an almighty 
 Saviour provided for sinners, and yet we are lost for 
 ever ; and are sunk so much lower than others, be- 
 cause we heard of him, and despised him !" 
 
 4. " Let such sinners as are awakened to a sense 
 of their danger be invited and persuaded, in the 
 strength of divine grace, to come unto God by 
 Christ.'" 
 
 All the awful and terrifying things we say are 
 dictated by the sincerest and tenderest love to your 
 souls ; and nothing can be further from our inten- 
 tion, than to come to torment you before the time. 
 Did we know that your day of grace was past, we 
 would spare these unwelcome pains; and would 
 rather permit you to sleep on and take your rest. 
 But these are moments of hope, sinners, though you 
 make them moments of extreme danger: and though 
 there he no hope for you while you continue to 
 reject Christ, yet if you accept him, you have no- 
 thing to fear ; but this very day, if you this day 
 entertain him, shall salvation come to your house. 
 Behold, now is the accepted time ; behold, now is 
 the day of salvation ; and after so long a time, it is 
 yet called to-day. Once more, and as to some of 
 you it may be for the last time, is the proclamation 
 again made amongst you, Christ is able to save to 
 the uttermost them that come unto God by him ; 
 and those that come he will in no wise cast out. 
 And do you not hear the proclamation with plea- 
 sure ? and will you not obey it as worthy of all 
 acceptation ? 
 
 What if the scene were changed, and the pro- 
 posals were addressed to those wrett;hed creatures 
 who are now in hell ? What if God should send an 
 ambassador to them, and give him authority to ad- 
 dress them to some such purpose as this ? " Despair- 
 ing creatures, I am now come amongst you, not as 
 a messenger of vengeance, but of peace. God has 
 at length looked on your miseries with a compas- 
 sionate eye ; and there is a ray of mercy darting 
 through this gloom from the throne of grace and 
 from the Sun of righteousness. The proposals you 
 so long heard with indifference, and which you 
 have so much longer remembered in the bitterness 
 of your souls, are once more renewed. If you cry 
 unto him, even out of these depths, he will hear 
 you ; if you will submit your souls to his govern- 
 ment and his grace, he will save you ; and I am 
 commissioned in his name to assure you, that not 
 only shall these gates of hell be thrown open for 
 your release, but those of heaven shall be opened 
 likewise, for your admittance." 
 
 2 u 2 
 
 Sinners, let your own consciences say how you ima- 
 gine at least, that such a proposal would be received 
 by condemned spirits. Do you not think that (as one 
 forcibly expresses it) they would even leap in their 
 chains ? Do you not think the marks of horror and 
 despair would immediately vanish from their faces, 
 that their eyes would sparkle with hope and joy, 
 and that they would begin the work of praise even 
 with their flaming tongues ? But are not you your- 
 selves in the same condemnation, though the sen- 
 tence be not yet executed ? Why then do you now 
 despise those rivers of merey, the smallest drop of 
 which you will hereafter desire in vain ? 
 
 Alas, what we have here described is merely an 
 imaginary scene. Millions of ages shall roll away 
 in a sad succession, and no such proposals be made 
 to the inhabitants of heil ; nor to you, sinners, if 
 you come into that place of torment. But they are 
 now made in good earnest ; and, therefore. To-day, 
 if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts. 
 Oh, force us not another day, for the deliverance of 
 our own souls, to bear a dreadful testimony to the 
 condemnation of yours; but hearken to these em- 
 bassies of peace, and let us entreat and persuade 
 you to be reconciled. This is still tiie message, the 
 invitation, the charge, even the same that you 
 heard from the beginning ; Come unto God by 
 Christ. Behold a gracious God stretching out his 
 arms to receive you ; behold a compassionate Re- 
 deemer yet waiting to introduce you to his favour- 
 able presence ; and all the faithful subjects of his 
 kingdom, here and above, are longing to see it 
 erected in your souls. The thought even of our 
 own salvation would be still sweeter to us, if we 
 had a probable hope of sharing it with you. And 
 shall earth and heaven expect and desire it in vain? 
 And will you, as it were, grieve both ; that hell may 
 rejoice in your ruin, and that devils may insult over 
 you, and upbraid you, as having with your own 
 hands thrust away that salvation, of which all their 
 malice and rage might in vain have attempted to 
 deprive you ? You will then, alas, find no place for 
 repentance, though, like Esau, you seek it carefully 
 with tears. 
 
 Alas, my friends, what more shall I say ? Could I 
 find out any more weighty arguments, any more 
 plain, serious, and affecting forms of address, I 
 would go on, though the discourse should swell 
 beyond its due bounds ; though my own strength 
 w ere impaired by the earnestness of it ; and tliougii 
 a vain, wretched, unbelieving world should deride 
 that earnestness as enthusiasm and madness. Nay, 
 who that knows the importance of immortal souls, 
 would not go on to plead in such a cause, though 
 minutes and hours were to be struck off from his 
 life for every word that he utters in it, could even 
 such an expensive service be secure of success? 
 But that depends upon God, and to him we would 
 
660 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 look for it. In the moan time, I dismis.s y"u with 
 this one word : Wlicther you will hear, or wliolhcr 
 you will forbear, he in whose name I speak is wit- 
 ness, that the embassy is delivered ; and sueh words 
 as these will remain recorded in the book of his 
 remembrance, and will sooner or later be brought 
 to yours. 
 
 6. " Let such as are desirous of coming; to God 
 by Christ, take encouragement from the declaration 
 in tlic text." 
 
 We are not altogether ignorant of the devices of 
 Satan ; we know, by frequent observation and ex- . 
 perience, how soon he can turn the syren's song into 
 the roaring of a lion ; wliat clforts he makes, to 
 drive the awakened soul into tlic agonies of despair, 
 and to persuade him that he has thrown himself 
 beyond the reach of mercy. But, if he be practising 
 such cruel artifices on any soul in tiiis assembly, I 
 do, in the name of our Lord and Master, charge the 
 lie on the father of falsehoods. You have perhaps 
 a great many things to plead against yourselves ; 
 such as, the number, the enormity, and aggrava- 
 tion of your sins : you will say, they have been 
 committed against the clearest light, against the 
 tenderest love, against repeated admonitions, most 
 serious resolutions, most solemn covenant engage- 
 ments : but all these pleas, and a thousand more, 
 are answered in this one word, He is able to save to 
 the uttermost them that come unto God by him. Is 
 it still matter of doubt ? Turn aside then, and more 
 attentively view the trophies of his grace and 
 power, erected in his word, erected on purpose for 
 our encouragement, on whom the ends of the world 
 are come. 
 
 Behold Paul in his unconverted state, a blas- 
 phemer, and a persecutor, and injurious. He ap- 
 pears to have divested himself, not only of that 
 gentleness of manners, which might reasonably 
 have been expected from a man of so liberal an 
 education, but even of the sentiments of common 
 humanity ; furiously breathing out threatening and 
 slaughter against the saints, without the least re- 
 gard to innocence of life, or to tenderness of age or 
 .sex. Yet at the appearance of an Almighty 
 Saviour, this furious barbarian was melted and 
 subdued : in the full career of his blind and cruel 
 rage, he falls down at the feet of that Jesus whom 
 he persecuted, and cries out the very next moment, 
 with the lowliest submission. Lord, what wilt thou 
 have me to do ? By the power of Christ, the fiend 
 was transformed into an angel ; he preached the 
 faith, which just before he endeavoured to destroy ; 
 and quickly learnt such language as this : Neither 
 bonds nor imprisonments move me, nor do I count 
 my life dear unto me, so that I may finish my 
 course with joy, and the ministry which I have re- 
 ceived of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the 
 grace of God. 
 
 The Corinthians were debauched and abandoned 
 to a proverb, the scandal of their country, and the 
 reproach of tlieir nature. For when the apostle 
 had been reckoning up a catalogue of the most in- 
 famous sinners ; such as fornicators, and idolaters, 
 and adulterers, and elTcminate, and abusers of 
 themselves with mankind, and thieves, and covet- 
 ous, and drunkards, and revilcrs, and extortioners ; 
 he adds, surprising words ! (and oh what surprising 
 grace do they imply!) " such were some of you ;" 
 such, that one would almost have expected, that 
 lightning from heaven should have blasted them, or 
 that the earth should have opened them a passage 
 into hell : but instead of this, says the apostle to 
 these very men, ye are washed, ye are sanctified, 
 ye are justified, in the name of our Lord Jesus, and 
 by the Spirit of our God. The blessed Jesus did 
 not upbraid them with their former crimes, but 
 poured forth his Spirit upon them in so abundant 
 a degree, that their faith was every where cele- 
 brated, and they came behind in no gift. 
 
 If we can yet imagine any crime more notorious 
 than some of those which are charged on the Co- 
 rinthian converts in their natural state, it must 
 surely be that which the sun could not behold with- 
 out horror, nor the earth sustain without trembling; 
 the murder of our Lord Jesus Christ, that innocent, 
 that holy, that divine person, with all the circum- 
 stances of the most inhuman crueity. They had 
 known his exemplary conversation, they had heard 
 his heavenly discourses, they had seen his divine 
 miracles ; yet in spite of all these, the outrageous 
 Jews seize him as a pest of human society, drag 
 him before a heathen tribunal, extort a sentence 
 of condemnation against him, and at length, after 
 a thousand indignities and barbarities, nail him to 
 the cross by the hands of the Romans. Y'et would 
 he show, that even these rebels were not beyond 
 the reach of his power and grace ; for no sooner 
 was the dispensation of the Spirit opened, but three 
 thousand of them were converted in one day ; they 
 gladly received the word, and were baptized in 
 token of it ; and notwitlistanding all the efl'orts, 
 which the subtilty or fury of their enemies could 
 use to draw them away from it, they continued 
 stcdfast in the doctrine and fellowship of the apos- 
 tles, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers: and 
 they are now in heaven, rejoicing in the presence of 
 that Jesus Avhom they murdered, and ascribing their 
 eternal salvation to that blood which they them- 
 selves shed. 
 
 And now, methinks, I am at a loss to imagine, 
 what unbelief can find to object against such in- 
 stances and examples as these, especially when 
 backed with so many encouraging promises. Can 
 you say worse of yourselves, than that you are tlie 
 chief of sinners ? Paul will tell you, that he was 
 so ; and that for this cause, he obtained mercy, that 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 661 
 
 in him, as chief, Jesus Christ might show forth all 
 long-suffering for a pattern to those that should 
 hereafter believe. And all the other examples are 
 no doubt recorded for the very same purpose, that 
 you through comfort of the Scriptures might have 
 hope. Therefore when your hearts are overwhelmed 
 within you, look unto the rock which is higher than 
 you. Look unto Jesus, and you will be lightened ; 
 and j'our faces will not be ashamed. When Satan 
 is plying- you with his fiery darts, wield them off by 
 the shield of faith, and, as it were, hurl them back 
 into the face of the tempter. Let all his endea- 
 vours to deter you from it, engage you to adhere so 
 much the more stedfastly to your resolution, of 
 throwing yourselves at the feet of Christ: and let 
 no one fear, that he should be the first sinner that 
 ever perished there ; for it cannot be, unless al- 
 mighty power be weakened, and infinite compassions 
 be exhausted. 
 
 6. Let those who have been enabled " to come 
 unto God by Christ, be thankful, and courageous, 
 in the views of the promised salvation." 
 
 My brethren, let me urge you to abound in the 
 blessed work of praise, for which none on earth 
 have so much reason as you. It is matter of thank- 
 fulness, only to hear of this salvation ; how much 
 more then, to have it brought home to our house, to 
 our heart, so as to be able through grace to say, 
 " This salvation is mine ;" O remember, it was the 
 same grace wliich first sent, that has rendered it 
 effectual. Reflect, I entreat you, Sirs, on your own 
 hearts: had you not once your prejudice against 
 the gospel, as well as others? How unwilling were 
 you to understand the method of salvation it taught ! 
 and when you did understand it, how much more 
 unwilling were you to submit to it ! yet now, those 
 very parts of the scheme, which were once your pe- 
 culiar aversion, are become your peculiar joy. 
 
 Adore the work of divine grace, and take encou- 
 ragement from it. Remember the connexion which 
 there is, between coming to God by Christ, and 
 being saved by him to the uttermost. Your deliver- 
 ance from the curse of the law, from the tyranny 
 of Satan, and from the power of sin, is but the be- 
 ginning of this salvation: but it will at length be 
 accomplished; and you should triumph in the ex- 
 pectation of it. " Various enemies surround me," 
 may the Christian say, " and they sometimes seem 
 ready to swallow me up : the world besets me with 
 innumerable snares; Satan is daily seeking by his 
 crafty wiles to get advantage over n>c ; the flesh is 
 ever ready to betray me; and death is threatening 
 to destroy me with its sting : but yet in all these 
 things I am more than a conqueror, through him 
 that hath loved me. Vain world, I shall quickly 
 leave thcc ! wily, infernal serpent, the God of peace 
 f shall shortly bruise thee under my feet! corrupt 
 deceitful flesh, I shall be happily delivered from 
 
 thee ! and death, thou king of terrors, I am assured, 
 that thou shalt be swallowed up in victory! though 
 thou mayst kill me, yet thou canst not hurt me ; 
 for I know that my Redeemer liveth ; and because 
 he liveth, I shall live also."^ — — These are senti- 
 ments and views worthy our character as Chris- 
 tians, worthy of those who are saved of the Lord. 
 Let us take for our helmet this hope of salvation, 
 and it will guard our head in every danger of life 
 and death ; till at length we exchange that helmet 
 for the celestial crown, which the Lord shall give 
 us in that day, when in the completest sense he 
 shall save all his people to the uttermost, and they 
 shall all appear with him in the brightest glories 
 of this great and perfect salvation. 
 
 SERMON XVII. 
 
 THE TENDERNESS OF CHRIST TO THE LAMBS OF 
 HIS FLOCK. 
 
 ISA. Xl. 11. 
 
 He shall feed his flock like a shepherd ; he shall 
 gather the lambs ii ilk his arm, and carry them in 
 his bosom, and shall r/entlij lead those that are with 
 youiii/. 
 
 It is well known that there are three most illus- 
 trious offices, under which our Redeemer is often 
 spoken of in Scripture; those of the Prophet, the 
 Priest, and the King of his church. And there are 
 several other characters, either coincident with 
 those, or subservient to them, which are frequently 
 mentioned, and are worthy of our regard ; amongst 
 which, that of a Shepherd is peculiarly remark- 
 able, as often occurring in the word of God, and 
 all'ording abundant matter, both for the instruction 
 and the consolation of his people. 
 
 I shall not now enumerate all the passages in 
 which our Lord is described under this character, 
 both in the Old Testament and the New. It may 
 be sufficient here to remind you, that he was plainly 
 foretold by Ezekiel, as that one Shepherd, whom 
 God would set over his people to feed them, even 
 his servant David ; (i. e. the Messiah, David's Son ;) 
 He, says the prophet, shall feed them, and he shall 
 be their shepherd. And Christ accordingly speaks 
 of himself, as the good shepherd; and is spoken of 
 by one and another of the apostles, as the great 
 shepherd of the sheep, and the chief shepherd. So 
 that, on the whole, if the words of the text had a 
 more immediate reference to the Father, they might 
 with great propriety be aj)plicd to Christ, by whom 
 the Father exercises Lis pastoral care of his people. 
 
669 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Tlie cliaptcr is opened with very reviving words ; 
 Comtbrt ye, eonilort ye, my people, saithyour (Jod : 
 and, to assure them that these consolations address- 
 ed to them were indeed glad tidings of great joy, 
 and worthy to be introduced in a very pompons 
 manner, mention is made of a very remarkable 
 herald sent before, whose voice was to cry in the 
 wilderness. Prepare yc the way of the Lord, make 
 straight in the desert a high-way for our God ; i. e. 
 let every obstruction be immediately removed : a 
 scripture so expressly applied to John the Baptist, 
 as the forerunner of Christ, that it may be sufficient 
 to fix the sense of the context, with those who have 
 any regard to the authority of the New Testament, 
 in explaining the Old. 
 
 To eonOrm the faith of Israel in this important 
 message, a solemn proclamation is made, ver. 6. 
 The voice (that is, the voice of God, speaking to me 
 in this vision) said unto me, Cry ; that is, raise thy 
 voice as loud as possible : and I said, What shall 
 I cry ! The following words are evidently the 
 answer, which God returns to this question of the 
 prophet ; q. d. " Proclaim this awful and seasonable 
 truth. All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness 
 thereof is as the flower of the field, which is yet 
 more frail and short-lived than the grass itself : the 
 grass withereth, and tlie flower fadeth ; but the word 
 of our God shall stand for ever ; q. d. Were it 
 only the promise of a man, you might indeed doubt 
 of its accomplishment ; were it only the word of 
 the mightiest prince on earth, it might give you but 
 a trembling and precarious hope: man is a dying 
 creature, and all tlie most cheerful hopes, which are 
 built on him, may ((uickly perish ; but the word of 
 our God, even that « ord (as it is explained by the 
 apostle Peter) which by the gospel is preached 
 unto you, shall stand for ever, as the firm basis of 
 your hope and confidence, and shall be certainly 
 accomplished in the final redemption and salvation 
 of his people." 
 
 The heavenly voice still continues to speak to the 
 prophet, who was honoured with this happy mes- 
 sage, and charges him to deliver it with the greatest 
 cheerfulness and zeal. " O thou that bringest 
 good tidings to Zion," (for so I think the words 
 should be rendered, as they are by some, and parti- 
 cularly in the margin of your Bibles,) " get tiiee up 
 into the high mountain, some place of eminence 
 from whence thou mayest be universally heard: O 
 thou, that bringest good tidings to Jerusalem, lift 
 up thy voice with strength ; lift it up ; and be not 
 afraid, lest the event siiould not answer the pro- 
 mise ; but say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your 
 God : for the Lord God will come with a strong 
 band ; i. e. the kingdom of the Messiah shall be 
 erected with a glorious display of the divine power; 
 and his arm shall rule for him, as in former in- 
 stances of most formidable opposition, liis own 
 
 right hand, and his holy arm, have gotten him the 
 victory : his kingdom shall be administered with 
 the exactcst equity and wisdom ; for his reward is 
 with him, to render to every man according to his 
 doings ; and his work is before him ; t. e. he has 
 the completcst view of it, and keeps his eye always 
 fixed upon it." 
 
 Yet, (as it is added in the words of the text,) the 
 authority of a Prince, and the dignity of a God, 
 shall be attempered by the gentleness of a most 
 compassionate Shepherd : lie shall feed his flock 
 like a shepherd ; he shall gather the lambs with his 
 arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently 
 lead those that are with young. 
 
 You have already heard of that strong hand, with 
 which Jesus our Lord is come, and of that victo- 
 rious energy, with which his arm shall rule for him. 
 Ilis name has been proclaimed amongst you, as The 
 Lord of Hosts, the Lord strong and mighty, able to 
 save to the uttermost. Let us now consider him 
 in this amiable character, in which our text describes 
 him ; for this renders those views of his almighty 
 power delightful, which our guilt would otherwise 
 render dreadful to us. 
 
 Christians, I would hope it is your desire, when- 
 ever you attend on the institutions of the gospel, to 
 see Jesus. I may now say to you, (in the words of 
 Pilate, on a very different occasion,) Behold the 
 Man. He appears not indeed in his royal robes, or 
 his priestly vestments ; but he wears the habit of 
 condescension and love ; and is not the less amiable, 
 though he may not seem equally majestic, while he 
 bears the pastoral rod, instead of the royal sceptre, and 
 feeds his flock like a shepherd, gathering up the fee- 
 ble lambs in his arms, and bearing them in his bosom, 
 and gently leading those that are with young. 
 
 You will naturally observe, — that the text de- 
 clares Christ's general care of all his people, — and 
 bespeaks his peculiar gracious regard to those, 
 whose circumstances require a peculiar tenderness. 
 
 1. We may observe " his general care of all his 
 people." 
 
 He shall feed his flock like a shepherd :— they 
 may each of them therefore say, with David, The 
 Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want : he maketh 
 me to lie down in green pastures ; he leadeth me 
 beside the still waters ; he restoreth my soul ; he 
 leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his 
 name's sake. The church is his fold ; and ordi- 
 nances are his pa.sturcs ; and his sheep shall be 
 nourished by them, till they grow up to that blessed 
 world, where, in a much nobler sense than here, 
 all the children of God that were scattered abroad 
 shall be gathered together in one, and shall appear 
 as one sheepfold under the great Shepherd and 
 Bishop of souls.* We have abundant reason to 
 admire his condescension and love, in the view of 
 
 * Compare Jolin x. 16. with 1 Pet. ii. 25. 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 G63 
 
 these things, and to congratulate the happiness of 
 his people, as under such pastoral care. But I will 
 not enlarge on this general view, or on these reflec- 
 tions upon it ; that I may leave room to insist on 
 what I chiefly proposed in the choice of these 
 words ; that is, 
 
 2. " Christ's peculiar concern for those, whose 
 circumstances require a peculiar tenderness." 
 
 This is expressed in those words ; He shall gather 
 the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his 
 bosom, and gently lead those that are with young, 
 J. e. he will consider their weakness and infirmity, 
 and conduct them as they are able to bear it : which 
 is also implied in that nearly parallel text, in which 
 we are told. He shall seek that which was lost, and 
 bring again that which was driven away, and bind 
 up that which was broken, and strengthen that 
 which was sick. 
 
 This is the general import of the words ; but for 
 the fuller explication and improvement of them, 
 give me leave, 
 
 I. To enumerate the cases and circumstances of 
 .some Christians, who may properly be considered 
 as tlie lambs of the ilock, or as those who are with 
 young. 
 
 II. To consider what may be intimated concern- 
 ing the Redeemer's tenderness to them, as it is 
 expressed by his gathering them in his arms, and 
 carrying them in his bosom, and gently leading 
 them. 
 
 III. I will endeavour to show what abundant 
 reason there is to depend upon it, that the great 
 Shepherd will deal in a very tender manner with 
 such. And then, 
 
 IV. I will endeavour to direct it to the proper 
 improvement of the whole. 
 
 May he who hath said. Comfort ye my people, 
 enable me to do it in the most eflectual manner! 
 may he give me the tongue of the learned, to speak 
 a word in season to them that are weary, and to 
 appoint to the weeping and trembling .soul, beauty 
 for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the 
 garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness ! 
 
 I. I am to mention the case of some Christians, 
 who may properly be considered as represented by 
 the lambs of the flock, or by sheep that are with 
 young. 
 
 Now in the general, you know, these expressions 
 may signify all who are young and tender. You 
 know, a young lamb is a very feeble creature, and 
 when deserted by its dam, if not assisted by the 
 shepherd, is in danger of perishing, and of breathing 
 out its innocent life, almost as soon as it has re- 
 ceived it: and, as Jacob ob.serves, the sheep that 
 are with young, or that have lately yeaned, are not 
 capable of such fatigues as the other cattle ; but if 
 overdriven so much as one day, their tenderness is 
 such, that they would die. And therefore when 
 
 our Lord was spoken of under the character of a 
 shepherd, it was very just, as well as very elegant, 
 to use such figures as these, to represent all those 
 of his people who stood in need of peculiar com- 
 passion and care. Now you may easily apprehend 
 those are to be considered as included here, — who 
 are of a tender age, — or but of little standing in 
 religion, — or whose spirits are naturally feeble, — or 
 whose circumstances are distressful and calamitous, 
 on account of any peculiar affliction, either of body 
 or of mind. 
 
 1. It is evident, that " they who are of a tender 
 age," may with peculiar propriety be called the 
 lambs of the Ilock. 
 
 They resemble Iambs, in respect of their youth ; 
 and in some degree, likewise, on account of that 
 innocence and simplicity, for which our Lord sin- 
 gled them out, to recommend them to the imitation 
 of all his followers, and even of his apostles, assur- 
 ing them that they must become like little children, 
 if they would hope to enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven. You, children, will therefore endeavour to 
 mind what I say this day ; for I am to speak to j ou ; 
 to speak to you about the kindness and care of 
 Christ towards you. I assure you, I speak of it 
 with pleasure: and surely you should hear it with 
 pleasure ; and your little hearts should leap for 
 joy, to think that a minister should be sent to ad- 
 dress himself to you, as the lambs of Christ's flock. 
 O that every one of you may indeed be so ! You 
 will hear what a kind shepherd you have, and how 
 graciously he will lay yon in his bosom. 
 
 2. " They who are of late standing in religion," 
 may also be called the lambs of Christ's flock. 
 
 Though perhaps they are more advanced in age 
 than many others, they are but young in grace, and 
 in Christian experience ; they are in the lowest form 
 in Christ's school, and perhaps have much of the 
 infirmity and weakness of children. They have 
 also some peculiar dilliculties to struggle with from 
 within, and often from without, which may render 
 them more sensible of those infirmities. Such are 
 therefore called babes in Christ; while Christians 
 of greater growth and experience, are called strong 
 men. 
 
 3. The language of the text may also with peculiar 
 propriety be applied to " those, whose spirits are 
 naturally very feeble and timorous." 
 
 The constitutions of dilTerent persons are most 
 apparently various ; and the infirmities which 
 attend some, render them the objects of peculiar 
 compassion. To them perhaps " the grasshopper is 
 a burthen;" and what by others would hardly be felt 
 at all, quite overloads and depresses them. While 
 some of their fellow-christians are as bold as the 
 lion, these, like the fearful lamb, start and tremble 
 almost at the shaking of a leaf. This excessive 
 tenderness of mind, which shows itself often on very 
 
f.6l 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 small orcasions, is much more visible where their 
 eternal interests seem to be eonceriie<l. Tiie impor- 
 tance of those interests appears so pjreat, that they are 
 even terrified with the view. A sadness of soul, 
 which often seizes them, disposes them to apprehend 
 and suspect the worst of themselves. And hence it 
 may so happen, that an incapacity to attend long- to 
 the exercises of devotion, arisiii};: from a natural 
 weakness of nerves and spirits, shall appear to them 
 as a black mark of a soul spiritually dead, and be 
 thoujiht a sulhcicnt ground for applying to them- 
 selves all those awful things, which the hypocrites 
 in Zion have so much reason to be afraid of. Or 
 when they view the difliculties of the Christian life, 
 they are ready to sink under the prospect, and to 
 conclude, that they shall lose that little good they 
 have attained, and shall surely and speedily fall by 
 the hands of such formidable enemies. It is very 
 probable, that the hearts of many who hear me, 
 know, in this respect, their own bitterness and bur- 
 then : but let them remember, it is known also by 
 the compassionate Shepherd of Israel ; and shall be 
 graciously remembered and considered by him. 
 
 4. The gracious promise in the text may be con- 
 sidered, as referring to " those, whose circumstances 
 are peculiarly distressful, on account of afflictions, 
 whether of body or of mind." 
 
 Who is there among you this day, that feareth 
 the Lord, and obeyeth the voice of his servant ; and 
 yet walketh in darkness, and liatli no light ? He is 
 now called to trust in the name of the Lord, and to 
 stay himself upon his God. What Christians are 
 there, whose days are spent in grief, and perhaps 
 their years in sighing ; so that, when their disap- 
 pointments or maladies, their temptations or deser- 
 tions, press hard upon them, they are scarce able to 
 rise under the burthen, and to believe that they shall 
 be any longer supported ; but on the contrary are 
 ready to cry out. Hath the Lord forgotten to be 
 gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mer- 
 cies ? — To them does this compassionate Saviour 
 appear, to lift up the hands that hang down, and t ) 
 strengthen the feeble knees : to sweeten their sor- 
 rows and silence their fears, to confirm their hopes 
 and awaken their joys. Let the young and the 
 unexperienced, the timorous and the afflicted, 
 whose desires are towards him, and their hearts 
 waiting upon him, let them all hear it w ith pleasure : 
 if they can be safe in the arms of Christ, if they can 
 be easy in his bosom, if they can be cheerful under 
 his gentlest conduct, they may dismiss their anxie- 
 ties ; for to them, and to such as they are, does he 
 particularly speak in these gracious words of the 
 text, assuring them, that he w ill gather them as the 
 lambs in his arms, that he will carry them in his 
 bosom, and that he will gently lead them, as ewes 
 which are great with young. Which brings me, 
 
 II. To consider what may be intimated concern- 
 
 ing the Redeemer's tenderness to them, as expressed 
 by these pastoral phrases. 
 
 All the expressions do evidently speak a most 
 affectionate care ; and they do more particularly 
 intimate, — that he will be ready to receive, — pro- 
 tect, — and comfort them, — and that he w ill mode- 
 rate their trials in proportion to their strength. The 
 three former of these are implied, in gathering them 
 in his arms, and laying them in his bosom ; and 
 the last, in his gently leading those that are with 
 young. 
 
 1. The text evidently declares, "the readiness of 
 the blessed Jesus to receive the weakest soul that 
 applies to him." 
 
 He will gather them in his arms ; i. c. at least his 
 arms shall be open to them. For though the Lord 
 be high, he hath respect unto the lowly, and he 
 will not despise the humblest creature, that thinks 
 himself most beneath his regards. Children, though 
 they can do so little for his service, thougli they 
 hardly know how to breathe out a prayer before 
 him, or what blessings they should ask at his hands.; 
 yet they shall be welcome to him. He understands 
 their poor broken language, and he hears it with 
 pleasure. When the soul is but just setting out in 
 religion, and seems, in a spiritual sense, as helpless 
 as a new-born infant ; when there is little know- 
 ledge, and little experience, and perhaps a very 
 strong struggle between nature and grace, he will 
 not despise the day of small things. When the 
 Christian is ready to say the hardest things against 
 himself, when a sense of former follies and of pre- 
 sent defects, lays him even in tlie dust at the foot 
 of a Redeemer, this gracious Shepherd will raise 
 the drooping creature ; and when he is ready to 
 say. Lord, I am, as I deserve to be, cast out of thy 
 sight, he will gather him among the lambs in his 
 arms, he will open them wide to receive and em- 
 brace him. — Trembling souls, hear it to your com- 
 fort : In all your weakness, under all your guilt, in 
 the midst of your fears, in the midst of your sor- 
 rows, you may come unto .lesus with a holy bold- 
 ness, and assure yourselves that he will not cast you 
 out, that he will in no wise, i. e. by no means, on no 
 consideratioji whatsoever, do it. But, 
 
 2. The phrase further implies, " that he will pro- 
 vide for their safety." 
 
 And therefore it is added, that he will not only 
 gather them in his arms, but carry them in his lo- 
 som ; which expresses both the tenderness and the 
 continuance of his care for this purpose. You 
 know, when the poor tiembling lamb is lodged, not 
 only in the arms, but in the bosom, of the shepherd, 
 while it remains there it is so secure, that the wild 
 beast or the robber must conquer the shepherd be- 
 fore he can hurt the lamb. So when the feeble and 
 fearful Christian hears the lions of hell, as it were, 
 roaring around him, and sees them just ready to 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 665 
 
 devour him, he may fly to this sanctuary, and defy 
 them all ; for everlasting arras shall be underneath 
 him, and shall compass him round for his defence 
 and safety. I give unto my sheep eternal life, (says 
 Christ, in the most resolute and determinate man- 
 ner,) and they shall never perish, neither shall any 
 pluck them out of my hand. " Reviving words !" 
 may the believing soul say, " for they assure me, 
 that if I am in that hand, to which I have been so 
 frequently and so solemnly committing my eternal 
 all, nothing can destroy me, that is not able to op- 
 pose, and even to conquer, Christ, — that Almighty 
 Saviour, — whom, when he was on earth in feeble 
 mortal clay, all the hosts of hell, with their united 
 malice and rage, assaulted in vain, and were sub- 
 dued and triumphed over by that very death which 
 they so eagerly laboured to accomplish ; for on the 
 cross he spoiled principalities and powers, and 
 made a show of them openly." 
 
 It may properly be added here, that as the lamb 
 cannot be destroyed, so neither can it be seduced, 
 when in the shepherd's arms. The foolish creature, 
 while at a distance from him, may wander it knows 
 not whither, and lose itself in some barren wilder- 
 ness, where it cannot subsist, and from whence it 
 cannot return. And thus far the humble believer 
 will own the parallel too just, — will own that he 
 has again and again gone astray like a lost sheep : 
 " Yet, Lord," may he add, " I adore thy faithful care 
 in reducing me to thy fold again, and am encouraged 
 this day to hope, thou wilt not suffer me to perish 
 by my wanderings. Tiiine eye and thy hand are 
 my security against the prevalency of inward cor- 
 ruptions, as well as outward temptations ; and I 
 trust, that neither the one nor the other shall be 
 able finally to separate me from thy love, or to de- 
 prive me of the blessings which are connected with 
 it." 
 
 3. The promise in the text further implies, "that 
 Christ will consult the comfort of his people," as 
 well as their safety. 
 
 He will carry the lambs in his bosom, when they 
 are so weak as not to be able to walk, like the rest 
 of the Mock. Or rather, here may be a beautiful 
 allusion to a circumstance, which must often occur 
 in the place where Isaiah wrote ; when a new-fallen 
 lamb was exposed to the chillncss of the morning 
 or evening air, in a manner which might have been 
 dangerous to its health or its life, that the shepherd, 
 when he saw it lying in this weak and liclpless con- 
 dition, should take it up into his bosom, and fold 
 about it part of his long garment, which most people 
 wore in tho.se eastern countries ; and there the 
 little helpless creature would lie, not only safe, but 
 warm and easy, till it was revived and strengthened. 
 So pleasantly and delightfully i.s the poor trembling 
 soul lodged in the bosom of Christ. It is made to 
 rejoice in his love, a.s well as his power, and to own 
 
 him as the chiefest among ten thousand, and alto- 
 gether lovely. You know, the Christian is described 
 as rejoicing in Christ Jesus, and as glorying in 
 him. The weary mariner does not rejoice so much, 
 when the danger and fatigues of his voyage are 
 over, and he sees himself safe at home, and meets 
 the kindest of his long absent friends there, as tlve 
 burthened soul rejoices, when by faith he is led to a 
 Redeemer, and is received with the assurances of 
 his love and grace. Nor would he exchange that 
 soft compassionate bosom for the choicest and 
 sweetest breasts of worldly consolation, of which 
 the sinner may suck, but can never be satisfied from 
 them. 
 
 4. The promise in the text must further intimate, 
 " that Christ will accommodate the trials of the 
 weak Christian to his strength," and will lay no 
 more upon him than he shall be able to bear. 
 
 Therefore it is said. He will gently lead those that 
 are with young ; as the shepherd is careful, in such 
 a circumstance, not to overdrive the cattle, lest 
 both young and old be destroyed. God, says the 
 apostle, is faithful, who will not suffer you to be 
 tried above what ye are able ; but will with the 
 trial make a way for your escape, that ye may be 
 able to bear it. In this instance is the tenderness 
 of Christ remarkable, and his wisdom too. — As a 
 father would not crush his child by a heavy burthen, 
 but lets him bear what is proportionable to his 
 years and strength; till at last, by insensible de- 
 grees, he grows capable of carrying with ease and 
 pleasure, what would before have overwhelmed 
 him ; thus does Christ deal with the feeble Chris- 
 tian. He calls him out to easier duties, to less 
 formidable combats, to lighter afllictions, first; he 
 stays his rough wind in the day of the east wind ; 
 and trains him up to pass, with fortitude and cheer- 
 fulness, through those more trying scenes, which he 
 would before have trembled to behold in a distant 
 I)rospcet. 
 
 All these comfortable and important particulars 
 seem naturally contained in the words of the text. 
 You easily apprehend, that many of them, as ap- 
 plied to the great Shepherd of souls, might have 
 been confirmed by reasonings and scriptures which 
 I have here omitted : but I was cautious not too far 
 to anticipate what is to be offered under the third 
 general, where I am to show, " how much reason 
 there is to expect, that the blessed Jesus will exer- 
 cise this gentle and affectionate care towards the 
 feeble of the dock." The subject is too copious to 
 be discussed, or entered upon, in these few remain- 
 ing moments. Let me therefore at present (ronclude 
 with reminding you, that all is already proved by the 
 authority of the text ; and I hope, the truth of it 
 has been sealed, by the experience of many that 
 hear me this day. May it be sealed by the experi- 
 ence of us all ! and all will then say, as surely 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 some of us can, tliat wlicn we have heard the most 
 that can be saiil of the sracc of a Hccleenicr, aiul 
 w licn the boldest or the softest li^ures are used to 
 illustrate it, the half has not been told us. How 
 much more shall we say it, when we come to the 
 fold al)ove ! To which may his mercy at length con- 
 duct us. in such ways as his wisdom sliall choose! 
 And sup\)ortcd by ills arms, and cherished in his 
 bosom, we shall pursue them with pleasure. Amen. 
 
 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 PROOFS OF CHRIST'S TENDERNESS, AND THE IMPROVE. 
 MENT WE SnOUED MAKE OF IT. 
 
 ISA. Xl. 11. 
 
 He shall feed his flock like a Shepherd ; he shall 
 (jather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in 
 his bosom, and shall i/ently lead those that are with 
 young. 
 
 It sliould certainly be our care, when we are 
 handling such linjurative scriptures as these, that we 
 do not offer violence to them, and force them, by a 
 multitude of fanciful accommodations, to speak 
 what it was by no means pertinent to the design of 
 the sacred writer to have said. Yet on the other 
 hand, it appears to me but a grateful return to the di- 
 vine condescension in using such language, to dwell 
 attentively on the images, with which God is some- 
 times pleased to clothe his addresses to us ; that we 
 may use them to such purposes, as seem to have been 
 intended by them. Especially is such a care as 
 this reasonable, when the figure is not expressed in 
 a single word, but diversified and adorned with 
 such a variety of expression and imagery, as we 
 find in the text. In sucii a case, it is fit, that the 
 beauties of every part should be traced : and there 
 is this evident advantage in it, that it may not only 
 make way for the easier entrance of important 
 trutlis into the mind ; but may give room to present 
 the most familiar and accustomed thoughts, in such 
 a diversity of dress, at different times, as may make 
 them more pleasing to the mind, than they might 
 probably be, if re[)eated in the plainest language, 
 so often as the importance of them requires they 
 should be insisted upon. 
 
 Perhaps it is for this reason, among oflicrs, that 
 such a variety of metaphorical and allegorical lan- 
 guage is used, both in the Old and New Testament, 
 in describing the ollices and characters of the great 
 Redeemer. And for this reason also it is, that 
 when such passages have occurred, as the subject 
 of our public meditations, I have thought it more 
 
 proper to dwell pretty largely on the various clauses 
 of the text, than inunediately to fix on some com- 
 mon place in divinity, which might easily have 
 been introduced, and to treat it in a systematical 
 form. I bless God, that the attention with which 
 such discourses have generally been heard, and the 
 good efl'ccts with which they have often been 
 attended, have encouraged me to pursue this me- 
 thod myself, and to recommend it to others; though 
 some may reckon it a part of a solid and rational 
 taste, to think very meanly of it. 
 
 With these views I have entered on the subject 
 in the following method: Having proved that the 
 words refer to the Lord Jesus Christ, the great 
 Shepherd of the sheep, I have, 
 
 I. iMUimerated tlie cases of various sorts of per- 
 sons, whom we may suppose to be represented by 
 the lambs of the flock, or by those that are with 
 young, they being such as require peculiar ten- 
 derness. 
 
 And here I have mentioned, — those who are of a 
 tender age, — or of a short standing in religion ; — 
 those whose spirits are naturally feeble ; — and those 
 whose circumstances are peculiarly calamitous, on 
 account of any heavy afliiction, either of body or 
 mind, whether .irising from providential dispensa- 
 tions, or from the hidings of God's face, or from the 
 assault of spiritual enemies. So that Christians 
 in such circumstances as these, will, I hope, con- 
 sider themselves peculiarly interested in the com- 
 fortable things which are now further to be laid 
 before them. And may the blessed Spirit apply the 
 consolation to each of their souls ! 
 
 II. I have also considered the Redeemer's ten- 
 derness to such, as expressed by gathering them 
 witli his arm, laying them in his bosom, and gently 
 leading them. 
 
 And here I observed, that these gracious and 
 affectionate words might be intended to express, — 
 his readiness to receive, — to protect,— and to com- 
 fort them ; — and his care to moderate their exercises 
 and burthens in proportion to their strength. These 
 are very important particulars, and most evidently 
 suited to the necessities and desires of the feeble 
 Christian. I hope, therefore, you will attend with 
 pleasure, while I now proceed, 
 
 III. To show what abtindant reason there is to 
 l)elicve that the great Shepherd will deal in this 
 tender manner ; that he will thus gather the lambs 
 with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and 
 gently lead those that are witli young. 
 
 As tiic land) sometimes fears the Shepherd, and 
 is ready to flee from him when he comes towards it 
 with the kindest designs ; so it is also evident from 
 experience, that the comfort of the Christian is 
 often much impaired, for want of that confidence in 
 the care and tenderness of a Redeemer, which is so 
 reasonable, as well as so delightful, that one would 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 C67 
 
 wonder it should, after all, be so very deficient, 
 even in the minds of those who are no strangers to 
 his word, and who have themselves tasted of liis 
 grace. Permit me, therefore, at present to argue 
 it, — from the general character under which he 
 appears, — from the representations both of the pro- 
 phets and apostles, — from his own declarations, as 
 recorded by tlie evangelists, — and from the expe- 
 rience of those who have committed themselves to 
 him. 
 
 1. We may argue this grace and tenderness of 
 Christ, " from the general character under which 
 he appears, as the Redeemer and Saviour of his 
 people." 
 
 Is not this a character full of gentleness and 
 goodness ? Is it not instead of ten thousand argu- 
 ments to prove, that if he pitied us in that low 
 estate in which he at first found us, his mercy to- 
 M'ards us will endure for ever ? View our blessed 
 Redeemer in the abasement of his abode among 
 men ; view him in the agonies in which he finished 
 the last scene of his sorrows and sufferings ; and 
 then say, what but love brougltt him from heaven, 
 and kept him on earth ? What but love stretched 
 liim on the cross, and laid him in the grave ? And 
 can any expression of tenderness be too great to be 
 expected after such amazing effects of it have 
 already been experienced ? Surely, as he hini.self 
 argues, greater love hath no man than this, that a 
 man should lay down his life for his friends: but, 
 as the apostle justly observes, his love is com- 
 mended towards us, it is set off by this important 
 circumstance, in that, while we were yet sinners, 
 Christ died for us : and how cheerfully may we 
 depend upon it, that if, when we were enemies, we 
 were reconciled by his death, we shall now, by his 
 life, obtain complete salvation ; and his living care 
 will accomplish what his dying love has begun ! 
 All the blessed consequences I have already men- 
 tioned, and a long train of others, follow on this 
 happy principle. He has graciously assumed the 
 character and title of a Shepherd ; and surely that 
 name implies all the particulars which we have 
 now been representing to you. His word, you 
 knotv, sets a mark of infamy upon those shepherds 
 that have not strengthened the disea.sed, nor healed 
 the sick, nor bound up that which was broken, nor 
 brought again that which was driven away, nor 
 sought that which was lost; but who have ruled 
 with force or cruelty. Surely the good Shepher<l 
 will not be like these: surely, if he will feed his flock 
 like such a Shepherd, he cannot fail of gathering 
 tiie lambs with his arm, and carrying them iti his 
 bosom, and of being very tender of the lives of those 
 for whom his own life was given. 
 
 2. Wc may argue the tenderness and grace of the 
 Redeemer, " from those testimonies which arc 
 borne to it in the prophetic writings." 
 
 This is mentioned as a remarkable part of his 
 character, when considered not only in his pastoral 
 office, but also in his royal dignity. To him do 
 those words of Zechariah refer, Rejoice greatly, 
 O daughter of Zion ; shout, O daughter of Jeru- 
 salem ; for behold thy King cometh unto thee: 
 he is just, and having salvation ; lowly, and 
 riding, not as other princes, perhaps on a 
 managed horse, or in a splendid triumphal 
 chariot ; but according to the simplicity of moi c 
 ancient days, when princes appeared amongst 
 their subjects as fathers amongst their children ; 
 so shall he come, riding on an ass, even upon a 
 colt, the foal of an ass. Thus too Isaiah introduces 
 God as speaking of him, in those remarkable words, 
 (which are so applied to him by the evangelist 
 Matthew, as the former are,) Behold my servant 
 whom I uphold, mine elect in whom my soul is de- 
 lighted :— he shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause 
 his voice to be heard in the streets : a bruised 
 reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall 
 he not quench, till he shall bring forth judg- 
 ment unto truth, or victory ; i. e. till he perfect 
 his gracious design of making righteousness and 
 truth victorious over all opposition. Therefore is 
 he spoken of, as a most proper person to accom- 
 plish the most compassionate purposes of the divine 
 goodness ; and is represented as rejoicing in the 
 thought of his bearing such a commission, in those 
 gracious words, (which were the foundation of his 
 first public discourse, and which he so solemnly 
 applied to himself in the synagogue of Nazareth,) 
 The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the 
 Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings to 
 the meek ; he hath sent nie to bind up the broken- 
 hearted, to proclaim Iii)erty to the captives, and the 
 opening of the prison to them that are bound ; to 
 appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto 
 them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, 
 the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. 
 So exactly does our Lord answer the lovely charac- 
 ter of a righteous and peaceful sovereign, draw n by 
 David in those last words of his, (wiiieh many sup- 
 pose ultimately fo refer to the Messiah,) He shall 
 be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, 
 even as a morning without clouds ; as the tender 
 grass springing out of the earth, by clear shining 
 after rain. And again. He shall judge the poor of 
 the people, and save the children of the needy : 
 and his people shall be so refreshed by his lender 
 care, that he shall come down like rain u[)on the 
 new-mown grass, and like showers tiiat water the 
 earth : he shall deliver tiie needy when lie crieth ; 
 the poor also, and him that hath noliel|)er: he 
 siiall spare the poor and needy, and shall save the 
 souls of the needy: he shall redeem their souls 
 from deceit and violence, and precious shall tiieir 
 blood be in his sight. Many parallel expressions 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 inin-ht be added 1o these ; but the following; lieads 
 are too eoiiious to allow of a further enlargement 
 upon tliis. 
 
 3. I might largely argue the tenderness and graec 
 of CliiisI, " from his conduct on earth in the days 
 of his llesh." 
 
 The time would fail mc, should I attempt to 
 enumerate half the ])articular circumstances of it, 
 that tend to illustrate this part of his character: I 
 must only select a few, which are tlie most remark- 
 able. And judge you, whether all that is foretold 
 of him in the text, and in the other prophetical 
 passages I have been referring you to, was not 
 amply and sweetly accomplished in them. 
 
 It is said, He will gather the lambs in his arms ; 
 ». e. (as I have been telling you above,) the young 
 and the weak shall be welcome to him : and did 
 not our Lord sufficiently show that they were so, 
 when the little children were brought unto him .' 
 The disciples indeed forbad them, as thinking it was 
 beneath the dignity of so great a prophet, as their 
 Master was, to trouble himself about them. But 
 observe it, children, (for I believe it was in part 
 recorded for your sakes,) Jesus was greatly dis- 
 pleased with his disciples, ♦hat they should think 
 he had no tenderness for such little creatures as 
 you, and he said. Sutler little children to come unto 
 me, and forbid them not ; for of sueh is the kingdom 
 of God : and he took them up in his arms, and laid 
 his hands upon them, and blessed them. Do you 
 not here see the text most beautifully illustrated 
 and ftilfilied? do you not here see the grceat Shep- 
 herd gathering the lambs in his arms, and laying 
 them in his bosom ! — And does he not invite others 
 also to that soft and pleasant repose, in those 
 compassionate words, which surely none of you 
 are such strangers in Israel as not to know ? 
 Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest : and, Him that 
 cometh unto me, I will in nowise cast out. Did he 
 not also express a very gracious regard to such, 
 when he so peculiarly recommends the care of them 
 to Peter, just when he was leaving the world, taking 
 that peculiarly affecting opportunity of assuring 
 him, not only that it was his will that they should 
 be regarded, but also that an affectionate care of 
 them was the most acceptable instance which 
 Peter, and (by a parity of reason) his other minis- 
 ters, could give of their love to him .' Lovest thou 
 me ? if thou dost, feed my lambs, and feed my 
 sheep. Can we then imagine, that he himself will 
 fail in his care of any of them ? especially when we 
 consider the instances of his tenderness to some 
 who were not of his fold, as well as to many who 
 were ; — to one, in whom though he saw only some 
 feeble traces and images of goodness, yet it is said, 
 that .Jesus beholding him, loved him ; — and to mul- 
 titudes, over whom he wept, because they obstinately 
 
 ret'used to be gathered in, and knew not the things 
 belonging to their peace. Again, 
 
 The text tells us, He shall gently lead those that 
 are with young ; i. e. he shall accommodate his 
 conduct to tlie weakness and infirmities of his 
 people : and did not our Lord express this tender- 
 ness, when he taught his followers, as they were 
 able to bear it ; and was careful not to discourage 
 them at first, by any unnecessary severities, lest it 
 should be like putting new wine into old bottles, 
 which might be easily broke by the fermentation of 
 it ? — and did not also this compassionate Shepherd 
 appear ready to bind up the broken, and to heal the 
 sick, when he so graciously excused the weakness 
 of his disciples, though they fell asleep at a timC) 
 when one would have thought the agonies of their 
 Lord should have turned them all into wakeful atten- 
 tion and affectionate sympathy ? Yet, instead of 
 severe reproaches, we find this kind apology in the 
 mouth of their neglected, injured Master, The spirit 
 indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. To add no 
 more on this head, it is well worth our observation, 
 that when Peter had so shamefully denied him, and 
 all the rest of the apostles had forsaken him, even 
 when he might most reasonably have expected their 
 kindest assistance, he does not after his resurrec- 
 tion express any keen and passionate resentments, 
 but on the contrary, all is mildness and sweetness. 
 At his first appearance to Mary Magdalen, he says 
 to her. Go to my brethren, and say unto them, I 
 ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my 
 God and your God. And a few moments after, 
 when appearing to the other women on their return 
 from the sepulchre. Go tell my brethren, says he 
 that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see 
 me. He docs not say, " Go and tell those cowardly 
 perfidious creatures, that God has not abandoned 
 me, though they so meanly did it." He does not 
 say, " Go tell that perjured traitor, who even in my 
 very sight and hearing disowned me and abjured 
 me :" but, " Go tell my brethren." And lest Peter 
 should think himself excluded from the message, 
 as peculiarly unworthy of so kind a name, the 
 angel, no doubt by our Lord's particular direction, 
 names that poor penitent expressly, and says, Go 
 tell his disciples, and Peter, that he is risen ; as if 
 it had been said, " Let that humble mourner know, 
 that his dear Master is risen, and in the midst of 
 his triumphs graciously remembers him, and sends 
 him these glad tidings thus early, as a token that 
 all is forgiven." Gracious Shepherd! who would 
 not love thee ? who would not immediately cease 
 his wanderings, to seek a retreat in thy compas- 
 sionate bosom ? 
 
 4. The compa-ssion of our Redeemer is still 
 further illustrated, " by those representations of it, 
 which are made by the apostles, in what they have 
 written since his ascension into glory." 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 You well know, they were under the direction of 
 the Spirit of Jesus, and had the mind of Christ in 
 so perfect a manner, that what they say is in effect 
 spoken by Clirist himself. Now there are many 
 passages in their writings, which loudly speak, and 
 tenderly illustrate, the compassion of his heart. 
 
 The apostles sometimes expressly assert it ; and 
 sometimes they write as taking it for granted, as a 
 thing known, allowed, and indeed felt by every 
 Christian. — It is frequently asserted by the author 
 of the epistle to the Hebrews, in very expressive 
 language. We are assured, that we have not a 
 high priest, who cannot be touched with the feeling 
 of our infirmities, but who was himself in all points 
 tempted like as we are. And more than that, we 
 are assured, that he submitted to the abasements of 
 an incarnate state, on purpose that his sufferings 
 might teach him a due sympathy: It behoved liim 
 in all things to be made like unto his brethren, that 
 be might be a merciful and a faithful high priest, 
 in things pertaining unto God ; — for in that he him- 
 self hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to suc- 
 cour them that are tempted : as the Jewish high 
 priests, being themselves compassed with infirmities, 
 could have compassion on the ignorant, and such 
 as were out of the way.^ — In other places, the com- 
 passion of Christ is referred to, as universally 
 known, and so great as to serve for a proverbial 
 expression of the greatest kindness. Thus when 
 conjugal affection is recommended from the con- 
 sideration of both being one flesh, the apostle adds. 
 No man ever yet hated his own ilesh, but nourisheth 
 and chcrislieth it, even as the Lord the church : 
 plainly intimating, that a man cannot have a more 
 tender care of the members of his own body, than 
 Christ has of his church and people. And else- 
 I where the apostle conjures Christians, by the 
 I bowels of Christ, by the meekness and gentleness 
 j of Christ; and pleads, if there be any consolation 
 I in Christ. We can hardly conceive any assertions 
 : so expressive, as such oblique insinuations and 
 I appeals as these. 
 
 I Yet I cannot omit that engaging illustration of 
 this compassionate care of the great Shepherd, 
 which is to be found in those epistles which he sent 
 to the churches in Asia, by the hand of John, after 
 he was received to the glories of his exalted state. 
 By these it appears, how distinctly he attended to 
 the concerns of each of those churches, and there- 
 fore, no doubt, of each particular soul which con- 
 
 I stituted them ; how diligently he observed, who 
 
 , were flourishing, and who were declining, that he 
 might address them with encouragements, or admo- 
 nitions, suited to their respective circumstances. 
 
 I It plainly appears, that notwithstanding all their 
 peculiar advantages and obligations, there were 
 many feeble and distempered souls among them, 
 and some that were called out to very laborious 
 
 services, and hazardous trials. Let me entreat you 
 to observe, how the blessed Jesus lifts up the hands 
 which were hanging down, and strengthens the 
 feeble knees. He saw, that the church of Ephesus 
 had left its first love ; — that the church of Sardis 
 had a name to live but was dead ; yet that there 
 was a little handful amongst them who had not de- 
 filed their garments ; — that the church of Philadel- 
 phia had but a little strength ; — and that of Laodicea 
 was neither cold nor hot : yet a gracious Redeemer 
 does not immediately disown them; but on the 
 one hand, kindly admonishes them of the danger 
 there was, lest growing apostasy and degeneracy 
 should provoke him to remove their candlestick out 
 of its place, — to cast them out as loathsome, — or to 
 wound them with the sword of his mouth, i. e. his 
 word ; — and on the other hand, he encourages them 
 to greater fidelity and zeal, by a promise of eating 
 of the fruit of the tree of life, — of being clothed in 
 white raiment, — of being confessed before the 
 Father and his holy angels, — and of sitting down 
 with him on his victorious throne.- — And as for his 
 faithful Smyrneans, he not only highly apj:lauds 
 their former conduct, but animates them against 
 the terrors of imprisonment and other tribulation, 
 by assuring them, he would give them a crown of 
 life. — And he fails not to tell the Philadelphians, 
 that since, weak as they were, they had kept his 
 word, he also would keep them from the approach- 
 ing hour of temptation, until at length he made them 
 pillars in the house of God above, and gave them a 
 new name in his holy city. You will please to take 
 a more particular view of these epistles at your 
 leisure ; and jou will see, in how amiable a manner 
 the good Shepherd appears in them, laying the 
 lambs in his bosom, and gently leading those that 
 are w ith young. 
 
 5. I might further argue this grace and tender- 
 ness of our Lord Jesus, " from the experience of 
 those, who have been thus gathered, and cherished, 
 and conducted by him." 
 
 This being fact, ought certainly to have its 
 weight ; and how little soever it may be regarded 
 by those who are strangers to it, yet to the happy 
 soul, who has found and felt this care, and with the 
 most delightful relish tasted that the Lord is gra- 
 cious, it will be instead often thousand arguments. 
 How many, when ready to sink under their sorrows 
 and their fears, have looked unto him, and been 
 lightened, have found their fears dispersed, and 
 their hopes established, their strength renewed, and 
 their joys enkindled ! The effect is real, evident, and 
 frequent; and rf we inquire into the immediate 
 cause, we shall often find it to be the promises of 
 his word, uttered by Christ himself, or recorded by 
 such as had their instructions and authority from 
 him. But if it be demanded, whence it is that the 
 promises do at some times impress the mind so much 
 
670 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 more powerfully tlian at others, thoufjh as dis- 
 tinctly rcnicmbtrctl, and as (irmly believed! I will 
 venture to say, how entluisiastical soever some may 
 iniasfine it, that the most natural reason seems to 
 me to be this: the blessed Spirit of God, whose 
 oflice it is to show to believers the thinfjs of Christ, 
 does sometimes display the promises before their 
 eyes with uncommon sweetness and energy, at the 
 same time sealini; to the soul its own interest in 
 them ; and from hence arises so sublime and so 
 holy a joy and strenj^th, that the Christian observ- 
 ing its nature and tendency, cannot doubt its 
 oriffinal. And I evidently see, and new instances 
 of it arc daily arising^, that such secret communica- 
 tions from above are the most effectual support of 
 many good men, under the greatest inward dis- 
 couragements, and the most painful conflicts with 
 their spiritual enemies. Now these supports being- 
 derived from the blessed Spirit, are to be con- 
 sidered as proceeding from Christ ; since it is most 
 evident from the whole tenor of Scripture, that 
 Christ is the great head, from whom believers de- 
 rive the influences of this Spirit, which are there- 
 fore called the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ. 
 So that every new instance of such refreshments and 
 consolations as these, is an additional experimental 
 proof of the tenderness and grace of a Redeemer. 
 
 Nor is there any just objection against it, arising 
 from the mauy instances, in which he has permitted 
 excellent persons to go on, for a considerable time, 
 in the bitterness of their souls, without any sensible 
 manifestations of his care and favour. We are to 
 judge nothing before the time; and surely the 
 fidelity and kindness of the blessed Jesus is suffi- 
 ciently approved, if, though in the most secret and 
 imperceptible manner, he supports his people in the 
 midst of their greatest difficulties, so as to prevent 
 their being separated from him, till he safely con- 
 ducts them to the heavenly world, and there shows 
 them the reasons of all their sorrows, and comforts 
 tliem infinitely more than in proportion to them all. 
 And that he does so, appears evident to me, not only 
 from the promises and declarations of his word, 
 which have been referred to under the former head, 
 but also from the observation of facts, as far as it is 
 possible for a train of particular observations, to 
 confirm such a general assertion. 
 
 I must here take the liberty to say, (because I 
 think it my duty on this occasion publicly to testify 
 it,) tliat though for my age I have had a consider- 
 able opportunity of making my remarks on various 
 cases of ])ersons under spiritual distress, yet, ex- 
 cepting a very few instances of evident distraction, 
 which none can reasonably imagine to have affected 
 their eternal state, I cannot recollect any single in- 
 stance, in which the huml)le soul has seemed to be 
 finally deserted by the great Shejiherd. Many who 
 have been under strong convictions and agonies of 
 
 mind, have indeed forgot their resolutions, taken up 
 often in an apparent dependence on themselves, 
 and have returned with the dog to his vomit, and 
 with the sow that was washed to her wallowing in 
 the mire. Many, who have talked loudly of their 
 extraordinary communications from above, and de- 
 spised others who have been less confident, have 
 quickly appeared .self-deceiving hypocrites, and 
 have been left by foul miscarriages to bring a scan- 
 dal on themselves, and on religion too. But I can- 
 not remember, that I ever met with a single person, 
 who appeared, as one of the lambs of Christ's flock, 
 humble under a sense of sin, and cordially disposed 
 to put himself under the care of Christ as the great 
 Shepherd, who after seeking and waiting on him, 
 has been either driven away by terror, or finally 
 seduced into soul-ruining errors or crimes, even by 
 the most artful deceivers. Many of them have 
 perhaps for a considerable time gone on weeping 
 and trembling ; but they have kept their hold even 
 to the last, and died with much more comfort than 
 they lived. Others have, for a long course of after- 
 life, found their consolations as great as ever their 
 sorrows had been : and, after all their fears, many 
 are to this day going on in a steady calm, as know- 
 ing whom they have believed ; while others, who I 
 doubt not are equally safe, are saying. If wc perish, 
 we will perish at his feet: but so far as 1 can re- 
 collect, I have never myself seen any of such a 
 character, who have fallen into a final apostasy, or 
 died in such circumstances as to leave room to fear 
 that their souls were lost; and 1 have heard of few 
 
 cases, which bear such an appearance. Let all 
 
 these remarks and arguments be attentively con- 
 sidered ; and then say, whether the grace and ten- 
 derness of a Redeemer be not as clearly proved, 
 and as firmly established, as even the lambs of his 
 flock could reasonably desire. And now, 
 
 IV. Let me conclude the discourse, with hinting 
 at the purposes to which it may be improved. 
 
 And surely the survey we have been taking of 
 the tenderness of Christ as a Shepherd, may natu- 
 rally lead us to some such reflections as these. 
 
 1. " How amiable does our blessed Redeemer 
 appear, when we contemplate him under such a 
 character !" 
 
 Such sentiments of humanity are wrought into 
 our very natures, that we cannot but love any per- 
 son, especially one of distinction, who condescends 
 to the weak and the helpless, and tenderly accom- 
 modates himself to their necessities and distresses. 
 You honour, and you love, a man of genius, and 
 learning, and eminence in life, who will lay aside 
 other more splendid employments, that he may in- 
 struct children, or by kind and affectionate con- 
 verse, even with the poorest creature that applies 
 to liim, may ease the burthens of the sorrowful 
 spirit. If a minister of such a character has been 
 
ON THE POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 
 
 671 
 
 remarkable for his readiness to such services, and 
 for his diligent and successful application to them, 
 though it be plainly the peculiar duty of his office 
 to abound in them, he is justly respected while he 
 lives, and his name and memory are dear and pre- 
 cious to survivors: yet this is only the condescen- 
 sion of one worm to another. How much more 
 reason have we to reverence and love the compas- 
 sionate Jesus, the Prince of Glory, who has so long 
 borne, and so tenderly and faithfully executed, this 
 kind office, and bears and executes it to this day ! 
 how many diseased souls has he healed, how many 
 weak hands has he strengthened, how many weep- 
 ing eyes has he dried, how many trembling hearts 
 has he supported and revived ! Let our love and 
 our praises ascend to this great common benefactor, 
 for the share which others have had in his good- 
 ness. — But must the reflection stop here ? Are not 
 we ourselves in the number of those obliged crea- 
 tures ? and shall not we feel and own the obliga- 
 I tion ? — We should surely be a burthen to ourselves, 
 1 if we had no sense of the kindness of those, who 
 I supported us in our feeble infancy ; who then bore 
 us in their arms, and cherished us in their bosoms ; 
 who watched over our slippery steps, and added 
 the more important care of forming our opening 
 minds to knowledge and virtue. And when wc 
 have felt the burthen of more advanced days press- 
 ing hard upon us, and heaviness in our hearts has 
 made them stoop, if some cordial sympathizing 
 friend has gladdened thenj w ith good and comfort- 
 able words, how kindly have we taken it, and how 
 thankfully have we acknowledged it ! But, O 
 blessed Jesus, what were the guides of our infancy, 
 or what the companions and comforters of our more 
 advanced years, in comparison of what thou hast 
 I been to us? "Whatever I now am," may the soul 
 i .say, " if I am thine, I was once a helpless lamb in 
 j thy flock ; and how much am I indebted to that 
 pastoral care of thine, of which I have now been 
 hearing! Hadst thou not pursued me in my wan- 
 derings, I had been utterly lost : hadst thou not 
 guarded me in thine arms, I had long since been 
 . devoured : hadst tliou not cherished me in thy 
 I bosom, my very heart had been broken. And to 
 this very day, what were I without thy care and 
 favour?" Thus let us look back to former days, 
 and the years of more ancient times ; and as God 
 reminds his people, how he took them by their 
 arms, and taught them to go, as he mentions with an 
 agreeable reflection, "the kindness of tiieir youth, 
 and the love of their espousals," let us this day 
 I gratefully commemorate his kindness to us in our 
 iyouth,and when our souls were first espoused to him. 
 I 2. " How ready .should we be, to imitate this 
 amiable character of our Redeemer ; and after his 
 example, to show a tender regard to the fee))le of 
 the flock ! " 
 
 We who are ministers should especially do it, if 
 we would approve our fidelity to the great Shep- 
 herd, and finally stand accepted in his sight. Ob- 
 serve, I entreat you, my younger brethren, (for my 
 relation to some of you not only allows, but requires 
 me, to speak with peculiar freedom to you,) observe 
 in how awful a manner the great God declares his 
 displeasure against those shepherds, who had 
 neglected the care which I now recommend. Be- 
 hold, I am against those shepherds, saith the Lord ; 
 (i. e. as appears from the preceding verses, those 
 shepherds who had not strengthened the diseased, 
 nor healed the sick, nor bound up the broken, nor 
 brought again that which was driven away ;) and I 
 will require my flock at their hand, and cause tliera 
 to cease from feeding the flock. Did God so severely 
 censure the Jewish shepherds for their neglect ; and 
 will he not disown and condemn us, if under all 
 the greater engagements of such a dispensation as 
 the gospel, and such an example as we have now 
 been surveying, our flocks be neglected, or rather, 
 his flock committed to our care ? If you fear God, 
 or love the Lord Jesus Christ, feed his sheep, — 
 feed his Iambs. Instruct children ; though it be a 
 diflicult work, and may seem to ignorant and thought- 
 less people a mean work : yet do it, and you will 
 probably find the comfort of it, even if they die 
 young, as they perhaps may ; and much more, if 
 you see these tender plants growing up as cedars in 
 Lebanon, and becoming pillars in the house of our 
 God. —Tenderly comfort mourning souls. Let theni 
 have free access to you at proper times ; hear their 
 story patiently, though it be a very melancholy one ; 
 and though you have heard it over and over again, 
 from others in the same circumstances, if not from 
 themselves. Watch their tempers, observe the turn 
 of their minds, and of their discourses ; and endea- 
 vour to lay hold of some word of their own, that 
 you may, if possible, graft comfort upon it. Mourn 
 with them, while they mourn ; and when your heart 
 is impressed with their sorrowful case, go with them 
 to the throne of grace, and spread it largely and 
 particularly before the Lord, which you cannot so 
 conveniently do in any other circumstance. — I 
 know, there arc a thousand gaieties of life, and 
 amusements of literature, which make young per- 
 sons especially averse to such work as this. But 
 remember, you arc ministers of Christ ; and surely 
 the disciple is not above his Master, nor the servant 
 al)ove his Lord. You would think very ill of the 
 shepherd, that was so cliarmed with the music of 
 his pipe, as to forget his lambs, w hen they should 
 be fed and tended. And I will venture to say, that 
 as the case I now recommend is very necessary in 
 order to the success of your ministry, so it may be a 
 means of improving both your gifts and graces, and 
 of forming you to a spiritual and experimental 
 strain of preaching ; which is a much more valuable 
 
G7-2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 part of a miiiistei's furniture, tlian classical or 
 inatliematifal leariiin}!;, or the critical study of the 
 Scripture itself; tiiou;;li all these are desirable in 
 their places, because all may be useful towards 
 making' the man of God perfect. 
 
 I would also from hence take occasion, to ad- 
 dress an exhortation to you who are heads of 
 families. To your more immediate and constant 
 care the lambs of the llock are eonnnitted. Feed 
 them dili<jcntly and alfectionately. Without your 
 concurrt;nce, we cannot promise ourselves much 
 from our more public attempts. Attend therefore 
 to the religious concerns of your children and 
 servants ; and do it with a gentleness suited to 
 their age and circumstances. Frighten them not 
 with a rigorous and austere severity ; but, as St. 
 Paul expresses it witli regard to himself, be gentle 
 among them, even as a nurse cherishcth her children. 
 In short, let us all bear one another's burthens, 
 and so fuKil the law of Christ ; and let us candidly 
 receive one another, as we hope that Christ with 
 all our infirmities hath received us. 
 
 3. " What abundant encouragement is here for 
 tlie feeblest soul, to commit itself to Christ!" 
 
 Let me now, o;i that encouragement, particularly 
 address the exhortation to those, whose circum- 
 stances render it peculiarly their concern. 
 
 Let me address it to you, my younger friends, 
 even to tiie children that hear me this day. \Vc 
 speak of the gentleness and goodness of Christ, on 
 purpose to invite you to him. Go to him by faith 
 and prayer, and say, " Blessed Jesus, I come to 
 thee a poor weak tender creature ; but it was in 
 regard to such weakness, that thou hast been 
 pleased to speak so graciously. I believe what I 
 have heard, and I mean to venture my soul upon it. 
 I flee to thee, as the helpless lamb to its shf;pherd, 
 when hungry — tliat he may feed it, when pursued by 
 wild beasts — that he may defend it. Lord, open 
 thine arms, and thy bosom to me, though I am so 
 inconsiderable a creature. Out of the mouths of 
 babes and sucklings thou ordaincst praise. Fill my 
 heart with thy love, and my mouth with thy praise ; 
 and lead me on, till I come to praise thee among 
 the angels in heaven, and to serve thee as they 
 do." 
 
 Let me address the exhortation, also, to the 
 tempted and sorro.wful soul. O thou afllicted, thou 
 who art tossed with the tempest, and not comforted ! 
 look unto .Jesus. Let thy conflicts and dangers 
 drive thee to him; though Satan would thereby at- 
 tempt to drive thee from him. Accustom not thy- 
 self to think of Christ as dreadful and severe. 
 Terrify not thyself with the thought of the iron 
 rod of vengeance, whilst thou feelest thyself dis- 
 posed to submit to the golden sceptre of his grace, 
 to the pastoral rod by which he guides his sheep. 
 And when thou findest thy doubts arising, flee to 
 
 the representations and assurances of his word, so 
 largely insisted on above ; and pray, that the in- 
 fluences of his Spirit may strengthen thy faith in 
 them. 
 
 Nor let me neglect so proper an occasion, of ad- 
 dressing myself to aged Christians. You, my 
 friends, though not the lambs of the flock, are, on 
 some account, the feeble of if. Though I hope, and 
 believe, that many of you are strong in grace ; yet 
 the outer man is decaying, and sensible comfort 
 often decays with it. Yet be not discouraged ; but 
 remember your Shepherd. You have not only 
 heard of his grace, but you have long experienced 
 it. Be cheerful in it, and remember, that as all 
 your experiences will not secure you otherwise than 
 as in the bosom of Christ, so all your infirmities 
 and trials cannot endanger you while you are there. 
 He has led you on gently and safely througli the 
 wilderness ; a few stci)s more will finish your 
 journey, and bring you to the ever-blissful pastures 
 of Canaan. 
 
 Once more, let me address the exhortation to 
 those who have gone astray from this blessed Shep- 
 herd, and invite them to return to him. May I not 
 appeal to your own consciences to witness, that it 
 was never better with you than when you kept 
 nearest to him ; and that while at a distance from 
 him, you are exposed to want, and danger, and 
 bitter regret ? Has not your heart melted within you, 
 while I have been speaking ? and have you not 
 been ready to say, " O that I were once more 
 lodged in those gracious arms, in that compassion- 
 ate bosom !" And what hinders it ? Does he not 
 assure you, that he will yet be willing to receive 
 you ? nay, that he will rejoice over you, on some 
 accounts even more than over those who never 
 wandered ? Return then, in the strength of divine 
 grace, to the duties you have neglected, to the ordi- 
 nances you have forsaken ; and may your souls find 
 refreshment in them, that with firmer purpose of 
 heart you may for the future cleave unto the Lord. 
 And now, 
 
 Lastly, " What a delightful idea does it give us 
 of the mutual endearments, which shall pass be- 
 tween Christ and his people, when they are brought 
 to the world of glory ?" 
 
 There they shall be no longer exposed to neces- 
 sities and alarms ; but all the purposes of his love 
 shall be completed in their everlasting security and 
 joy. And surely the gracious Redeemer must be 
 inconceivably delighted, when he there sees of the 
 travail of his soul. When he has with a gentle and 
 gracious hand conducted his sheep through the dark 
 valley of the shadow of death, with what joy will he 
 open to them those better pastures! with whatcongra- 
 tulations w ill he receive them to a state of inseparable 
 nearness to him, and administer unto them an abun- 
 dant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of their 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 G73 
 
 Lord and Saviour ! Therefore it is beautifully re- 
 presented in the book of the Revelation, as the 
 business and joy of Christ, even on the throne of his 
 glory, to lead on his saints to the various scenes of 
 divine pleasure and enjoyment, whieh are provided 
 for them there : The Lamb whieh is in the midst of 
 the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them 
 unto fountains of living waters. 
 
 And, O gracious Redeemer, what will the joy of 
 thy flock then be, when thus fed and conducted by 
 thee! If it be so delightful at this humble distance, 
 to believe ourselves the objects of thy care and 
 favour, and to taste of these little streams w hich 
 thou art causing to flow in upon us here in the wil- 
 derness, what will that river of life be .' If it be now 
 the joy of our hearts, awhile to forget our cares and 
 our fears, when we 3re perhaps at thy table, and 
 to lean our weary heads for a few moments on thy 
 dear breast ; what will it be, for ever to dwell in 
 thine embrace, and to say once for all, Return unto 
 thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bounti- 
 fully with thee ! Bountifully indeed ! when they 
 who were brought out with weeping, and led on 
 with supplication, shall, as the redeemed of the 
 Lord, come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy 
 upon their heads, and sorrow and sighing shall flee 
 away. 
 
 In the mean time, we rejoice in hope of this blessed 
 scene, and would raise such feeble praises, as earth 
 will admit, to this great Shepherd, whose arm is so 
 .strong to guard us ; whose bosom is so soft to 
 cherish us ; and whose heart is so compassionate, 
 notwithstanding all our unworthiness, as to exert 
 that arm for our protection, and to open that bosom 
 for our repose. Amen. 
 
 SERMON XIX. 
 
 THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY BRIEFLY STATED, 
 ' AND THE NEW TESTAMENT PROVED TO BE GENUINE. 
 
 2 Pet. i. 16. 
 
 Wc have not foUoiceil cunningly devised fables . 
 
 It is undoubtedly a glory to our age and country, 
 that the nature of moral virtue has been so clearly 
 stated, and the practice of it so strongly enforced, 
 by the views of its native beauty, and beneficial 
 
 I consequences, both to private persons and societies. 
 Perhaps, in this respect, hardly any nation or time 
 
 i has equalled, certainly few, if any, have exceeded, 
 our own. Yet I fear I might add, there have been 
 few ages or countries, where vice has more generally 
 triumphed, in its most audacious, and in other 
 respects most odious, forms. 
 
 2 X 
 
 This may well appear a surprising case ; and it 
 will surely be worth our while to inquire into the 
 causes of so strange a circumstance. I cannot now 
 enter into a particular detail of them. But I am 
 persuaded, none is more considerable than that 
 unhappy disregard, either to the gospel in general, 
 or to its most peculiar and essential truths, which is 
 so visible among us, and which appears to be con- 
 tinually growing. It is plain, that like some of old, 
 who thought and professed themselves the wisest of 
 mankind, or in other words, the freest thinlcers of 
 their age, multitudes among us have not liked to 
 retain God and his truths in their knowledge : and 
 it is therefore the less to be wondered at, if God has 
 given them up to a reprobate mind ; to the most 
 infamous lusts and enormities ; and to a depth of 
 degeneracy, which, while it is in part the natural 
 consequence, is in part also the just but dreadful 
 punishment of their apostasy from the faith. And 
 I am persuaded, that those who do indeed wish well 
 to the cause of public virtue, as every true Christian 
 most certainly docs, cannot serve it more effectually, 
 than by endeavouring to establish men in the belief 
 of the gospel in general, and to affect their hearts 
 with its most distinguishing truths. 
 
 The latter of these is our frecjuent employment, 
 and is what I have particularly been attempting in 
 the preceding discourses on tlie power and grace of 
 the Redeemer: the former I shall now, by the divine 
 assistance, apply myself to in those that follow. 
 And I have chosen the words now before us, as a 
 proper introduction to such a design. 
 
 They do indeed peculiarly refer to the coming of 
 our Lord, which the apostle represents as attested 
 by that glory, of « hich he was an eye-witness on 
 the mount of transfiguration, and by that voice from 
 heaven which he heard there : but the truth of these 
 facts is evidently connected willi that of the gospel 
 in general. I am persuaded therefore, you will 
 think they are properly prefixed to a discourse on 
 the general evidences of Christianity. And I hope, 
 by the divine assistance, to propose them at this 
 time in such a manner, as shall con\ince you, that 
 the apostles had reason to say, and that we also have 
 reason to repeat it. We have not followed cunningly 
 devised fables. 
 
 I have often touched on this subject occasionally ; 
 but I think it my duty at present to insist something 
 more largely upon it. You easily apprehend, that 
 it is a matter of the highest importance, being 
 indeed no other than the great foundation of all our 
 eternal hopes. While so many are daily attempt- 
 ing to destroy this foundation, it is possible, that 
 those of you especially, who are but entering on the 
 world, may be called out to give a reason of the 
 hope that is in you : I would therefore, witli the 
 apostle, be concerned, that you may be ready to do 
 it. It may fortify you against the artifices by 
 
G74 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 wliich tlic unwary arc often deceived and insnarcd, 
 and may jjossibly enable you to put to silence their 
 Ibolishncss. At least it will be for the satisfaction 
 of your minds, to have considered the matter 
 seriously, and to be conscious to yourselves, that 
 you arc not Christians merely by education, or ex- 
 ample, as (had you been born elsewhere) you might 
 have been pagans or Mahometans ; but that you are 
 so upon rational evidence, and because (as the 
 sacred historian expresses it) you know the cer- 
 tainty of those things in whicli you have been 
 instructed. 
 
 To open and vindicate the proof of Christianity 
 in all its extent, would be the employment of many 
 discourses ; nor would it, on the whole, be proper 
 to attempt it here. All that I now intend here is, 
 to give you a summary view of the most consider- 
 able arguments, in that which seems to mc their 
 most proper and natural connexion ; that so you 
 may be able to judge of them better than you can 
 possibly do by a few scattered remarks, or by the 
 most copious enlargement on any single branch of 
 them alone. I shall endeavour to dispose these hints 
 so, as that they may be some guide to those, whose 
 leisure and abilities may lead them to a more ample 
 and curious inquiry ; that they may not- be entan- 
 gled in so complex an argument, but may proceed 
 in an orderly manner. And if any of you, my 
 friends, desire a more particular information on 
 any of those heads, which I now but briefly suggest, 
 you may depend upon it, that faithful ministers of 
 every denomination will think it an important part 
 of their duty, to give you all the private assistance 
 they can. It is my hearty prayer, that God would 
 enable me to plead his cause with success ; that he 
 would open your understandings to receive these 
 things, and strengthen your memories to retain 
 them ; that you may not, like children, be tossed to 
 and fi"0, and carried about with every wind of doc- 
 trine, by the sleight of men, and the cunning crafti- 
 ness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive ; but may 
 be strong in faith, giving glory to God ; that, your 
 faith being more and more established, it may ap- 
 pear, that the tree is watered at the roots, and all 
 your other graces may grow and flourish in an 
 equal proportion. 
 
 But before I proceed, I must desire you to ob- 
 serve, that there is no proof in the world so satis- 
 factory to the true Christian, as to have felt the 
 transforming power of the gospel on his own soul. 
 As that illiterate man, whose eyes were miracu- 
 lously opened by Christ, when be was questioned 
 by the Jewish sanhedrim, who endeavoured with 
 all their sophistry to prove Christ an impostor, an- 
 swered with great steadiness and constancy, and 
 with a great deal of reason too. This one thing I 
 know ; that whereas I was blind, now I see : so the 
 nuxit unlearned of the disciples of .Fcsus, hav'.'g 
 
 found his soul enlightened and sanctified, and felt 
 his heart so elfectually wrought upon, as to bring 
 him home to his duty, his God, and his happiness, 
 by the constraining power of the gospel, will despise 
 a thousand subtle objections which may be urged 
 against it ; and though the cross of Christ be to the 
 Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolish- 
 ness, yet with this experience of its saving energy, 
 he will honour it in the midst of all their contempt 
 and ridicule, as the power of God, and the wisdom 
 of God. In this sense, though the miraculous com- 
 munication of the Spirit be ceased, he that believes 
 hath still the witness in himself; and while the 
 Spirit beareth witness with his spirit, that he is a 
 child of God, he cannot doubt, but that the word, 
 by which he was, as it were, begotten unto him, is 
 indeed a divine and incorruptible seed. And per- 
 haps there are certain seasons of pressing tempta- 
 tion, in which the most learned, as well as the most 
 illiterate, Christian, will find this the surest anchor 
 of his hope. 
 
 Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged, that this 
 glorious kind of evidence is like the white stone, 
 mentioned in the Revelation, in which there was a 
 new name written, which no man knew but he who 
 received it. God has therefore made other provision 
 for the honour and support of his gospel, by fur- 
 nishing it with a variety of proof, which may with 
 undiminished, and indeed with growing, conviction, 
 be communicated from one to another. And we 
 should be greatly wanting in gratitude to him, in 
 zeal for a Redeemer's kingdom, and in charitable 
 concern for the conversion of those who reject the 
 gospel, as well as for the edification of those who 
 embrace it, should we wholly overlook these argu- 
 ments, or neglect to acquaint ourselves with thera. 
 This is the evidence which I am now to propose ; 
 and I desire you would hear it with a becoming at- 
 tention. I speak to you as to rational creatures : 
 judge ye of the reasonableness of what I shall say. 
 
 In prosecution of this great design, I shall en- 
 deavour more particularly to show you, — that if we 
 take the matter on a general survey, it will appear 
 highly probable, that such a scheme of doctrines 
 and precepts, as we find Christianity to be, should 
 indeed have been a divine revelation ; — and then, 
 that if we examine into the external evidence of it, 
 we shall find it certain in fact, that it was so, and 
 that it had its original from above. 
 
 First, Let me show, " that taking the matter 
 merely in theory, it will appear highly probable, 
 that such a system as the gospel should be indeed 
 a divine revelation." 
 
 To evince this, I would more particularly prove, 
 — that the state of mankind was such, as greatly to 
 need a revelation ; — that there seems from the light 
 of nature, encouragement to hope that God should 
 giant one ;— that it is reasonable to believe, if any 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 075 
 
 were made, it should be so introduced and trans- 
 mitted, as we are told Christianity was ; — and that 
 its general nature and substance should be such, 
 as we find that of the gospel is. If these particu- 
 lars are made out, here will be a strong presumptive 
 evidence, that the gospel is from God ; and we shall 
 have opened a fair way toward that more direct 
 proof, which I principally intend. 
 
 1. " The case of mankind is naturally such, as 
 greatly to need a divine revelation." 
 
 I speak not here of man in his original state ; 
 though even then, as many have largely shown, 
 some instruction from above seemed necessary to 
 inform him of many particulars, which it was highly 
 expedient that he should immediately know : but 
 I speak of him in the degenerate condition in which 
 he now so evidently lies, by whatever means he 
 was brought into it. It is an easy thing to make 
 florid encomiums on the perfection of natural light, 
 and to deceive unwary readers with an ambiguous 
 term ;* (which shall sometimes signify all that 
 appears even to the divine understanding, and 
 sometimes no more than the meanest of the human 
 race may, or than they actually do, attain ;) but let 
 fact speak, and the controversy will soon be deter- 
 mined. I appeal to all, that are acquainted with 
 the records of antiquity, or that have any know- 
 ledge of the most credible accounts of the present 
 state of those countries where Christianity is un- 
 known, whether it is not too obvious a truth, that 
 the whole heathen world has lain, and still lies, in 
 wickedness. Have not incomparably the greater 
 part of them been perpetually bewildered in their 
 religious notions and practices, vastly differing 
 from each other, and almost equally dillering on all 
 sides from the probable appearances of truth and 
 reason? Is any thing so wild as not to have been 
 believed, any thing so infamous as not to have been 
 practised, by them, while they have not only pre- 
 tended to justify it by reason, but have consecrated 
 it as a part of their religion? To this very day, 
 what are the discoveries of new nations in the 
 American or African world, but, generally speak- 
 ing, the opening of new scenes of enormity ? Rapine, 
 lust, cruelty, human sacrifices, and the most stupid 
 idolatries, are, and for ought I can find, always 
 have been, the morality and religion of almost all 
 the pagan nations under heaven : and to say, that 
 there have still been some smothered sparks of 
 reason within, which, if cherished, might have led 
 them to truth and happiness, is only saying, that 
 they have been so much the more criminal, and 
 therefore so much the more miserable. 
 
 But you live at home, and hear these things only 
 by uncertain report. Look then around you within 
 
 * This Dr. Tyiid.il lia.i done in so frross and palp.il)Ic a manner, tliat 
 it IS .surpn.sing that fallac y alone should not have exposed his " Chris- 
 tianity as Old as the Crp.ition," to the immediate contempt of crerv 
 ■otelhgcnt reader. , ^ 
 
 2x2 
 
 the sphere of your own observation, and see the 
 temper and character of the generality of those, 
 who have been educated in a Christian, and even 
 in a protestant, country. Observe their ignorance 
 and forgetfulness of the divine Being, their im- 
 pieties, their debaucheries, their fraud, their op- 
 pression, their pride, their avarice, their ambition, 
 their unnatural insensibility of the wants, and sor- 
 rows, and interests of each other ; and when you 
 see how bad they generally are in the midst of so 
 many advantages, judge by that of the probable 
 state of those that want them. Judge upon these 
 views, whether a revelation be an unnecessary 
 thing. 
 
 2. "There is, from the light of nature, considerable 
 encouragement to hope, that God would favour his 
 creatures with so needful a blessing as a revelation 
 appears." 
 
 That a revelation is in itself a possible thing, is 
 evident beyond all shadow of a doubt. Shall not 
 he that made man's mouth, who has given us this 
 wonderful faculty of discovering our sentiments, 
 and communicating our ideas to each other, shall 
 not he be able to converse with his rational crea- 
 tures, and by sensible manifestations, or by inward 
 impressions, to convey the knowledge of things 
 which lie beyond the ken of their natural faculties, 
 and yet may be highly conducive to their advan- 
 tage ? To own a God, and to deny him such a power, 
 would be a notorious contradiction. — But it may 
 appear much more dubious, whether he will please 
 to confer such a favour on sinful creatures. 
 
 Now I acknowledge, that we could not certainly 
 conclude he would ever do it, considering, on the 
 one hand, how justly they stood exposed to his final 
 displeasure, and on the other, what provision he 
 had made by the frame of the human mind, and of 
 nature around us, for giving us such notices of him- 
 self, as would leave us inexcusable, if we either 
 failed to know him or to glorify him as God ; as the 
 apostle argues at large. Nevertheless, methinks we 
 should have had something of this kind to hope, 
 from considering God as the indulgent Father of his 
 creatures ; from observing the tender care which he 
 takes of us, and the liberal supply which he grants 
 for the support of the animal life ; especially, from 
 the provision which he has made for man, consider- 
 ed as a guilty and calamitous creature, by the me- 
 dicinal and healing virtues which he has given to 
 many of the productions of nature, which in a state 
 of perfect rectitude and happiness man would never 
 have needed. This is a circumstance, which seem- 
 ed strongly to intimate, that he would sometime or 
 another graciously provide .some remedy to heal 
 men's minds ; and that he would interpose to in- 
 struct them in his own nature, in the manner in 
 which he is to be served, and in the final treatment 
 which they may expect from him. And I think. 
 
C70 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 such an apprclicnsioii seems \cry congruous to the 
 sentiments of tlie generality of mankind ; as ap- 
 pears from the many pretences to divine revelation 
 ■which have often been made, and the readiness of 
 multitudes to receive them on very slender proofs : 
 this shows how naturally men expect some such 
 kind interposition of the Deity ; a thought whicii 
 might further he conlirmed by some remarkable 
 passages of heathen writers, which I have not now 
 time particularly to mention. 
 
 3. We may easily conclude, " tliat if a Revelation 
 were given, it would be introduced and transmitted 
 in such a manner as Christianity is said to have been." 
 
 It is exceeding probable, for instance, tliat it 
 should be taught, either by some illustrious person 
 sent down from a superior world, or at least by a 
 man of eminent wisdom and piety, who should him- 
 self have been, not only a teacher, but an example, 
 of universal goodness. In order to this it seems 
 probable, that he should be led througli a series of 
 calamity and distress ; since otherwise he would 
 not hove been a pattern of the virtues which adorn 
 adversity, and are peculiar to it. And it might also 
 have been expected, that in the extremity of his 
 distress, the blessed God, whose messenger he was, 
 should in some extraordinary manner have inter- 
 posed, either to preserve or to recover him from death. 
 
 It is moreover exceeding probable, that such a 
 person, and perhaps also they who were at first em- 
 ployed as his messengers to the world, should be 
 endowed with a power of working miracles ; both 
 to awaken men's attention, and to prove a divine 
 mission, and the consequent truth of their doc- 
 trines ; some of which might perhaps not be capa- 
 ble of any other kind of proof ; or if they were, it is 
 certain that no method of arguing is so short, so 
 plain, and so forcible, and on the whole, so well 
 suited to the conviction, and probably the reforma- 
 tion, of mankind, as a course of evident, repeated, 
 and uncontrolled miracles. And such a method of 
 proof is especially adapted to the populace, who 
 are incomparably the greater part of mankind, and 
 for whose benefit, we may assure ourselves, a reve- 
 lation would chictly be designed. — I might add, it 
 was no way improbable, though not in itself certain, 
 that such a dispensation should open gradually on 
 the world ; and that the most illustrious messenger 
 of God to men should be ushered in by some pre- 
 dictions, which should raise a great expectation of 
 his appearance, and have an evident accomplish- 
 ment in him. 
 
 As for the propagation of a religion so introduced, 
 it seems no way improbable, that having been thus 
 established in its first age, it should be transmitted 
 to future generations by credible testimony, as other 
 important facts are. It is certain that alTairs of the 
 utmost moment, which are transacted amongst men, 
 depend on testimony: on tliis voyages arc under- 
 
 taken, settlements made, and controversies decided ; 
 controversies, on which not only the estates but the 
 lives of men depend. And though it must be owned, 
 that such an historical evidence is not equally con- 
 vincing with miracles which are wrought before our 
 own eyes ; yet it is certain it may rise to such a 
 degree as to exclude all reasonable doubt. And I 
 know not wliy we should expect that the evidence 
 of a revelation should be such, as universally to 
 compel the immediate assent of all to whom it is 
 offered. To me it seems much more likely that it 
 should be so adjusted, as to be a kind of touch- 
 stone to the tempers and characters of men ; capable 
 indeed of giving ample satisfaction to the diligent 
 and candid inquirer, yet attended with some cir- 
 cumstances, from whence the captious and perverse 
 might take occasion to cavil and object. Such 
 might we suppose the evidence of a revelation 
 would be; and such, it is maintained, that of Chris- 
 tianity is. The teachers of it say, and undertake to 
 prove, that it was thus introduced, thus established, 
 and thus transmitted ; and we trust that this is a 
 strong presumption in its favour : especially as we 
 can add, 
 
 4. " That the main doctrines contained in the 
 gospel, are of such a nature as we might in general 
 suppose those of a divine revelation would be, 
 rational, practical, and sublime." 
 
 One would imagine, that in a revelation of a reli- 
 gion from God, the great principles of natural 
 religion should be clearly asserted, and strongly 
 maintained : such, I mean, as the existence, the 
 unity, the perfection, and the providence of God ; 
 the essential and immutable difl'erence between 
 moral good and evil ; the obligation we are under 
 to the various branches of virtue, whether human, 
 social, or divine ; the value and immortality of the 
 soul ; and the rewards and punishments of a future 
 state. One would easily conclude, that all these 
 particulars must be contained in it ; and that, upon 
 the whole, it should appear calculated to fonn 
 men's minds to a proper temper, rather than to 
 amuse them with curious speculations. 
 
 It might indeed be further supposed, and pro- 
 bably concluded, that such a revelation would 
 contain some things which could not have been 
 learned from the highest improvements of natural 
 light: and considering the infinite and unfathom- 
 able nature of the blessed God, it would be more 
 than probable that many things might be hinted at 
 and referred to which our feeble faculties should 
 not be able fully to comprehend. Yet we should 
 expect to find these introduced in a practical view, 
 as directing us to duties before unknown, or sug- 
 gesting powerful motives to make us resolute and 
 constant in the discharge of the rest.* As for 
 
 » Particularly on what termii, and to what degree, pardon and liap- 
 piness might be expected by sinful creatures. 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 G77 
 
 ceremonial and positive institutions, we sbould 
 imagine, at least in the most perfect state of the 
 revelation, that they should be but few, and those 
 few plainly subservient to the great purposes of 
 practical religion. 
 
 I shall only add, that forasmuch as pride appears 
 to be the most reigning corruption of the human 
 mind, and the source of numberless irregularities, 
 it is exceeding probable, that a divine revelation 
 should be calculated to humble the fallen creature, 
 and bring it to a sense of its guilt and weakness ; 
 and the more evidently that tenderness appears, 
 other things being equal, the greater reason there 
 is to believe that the original of such a scheme is 
 from above. 
 
 . Your own thoughts have undsubtedly p: evented 
 me in the application of these characters to the 
 Christian revelation. The justice of that applica- 
 tion I must not now illustrate at large. But I must 
 beg leave to advance one remark, which will con- 
 clude what I have to say on this general : which is, 
 that as the Christian system is undoubtedly worthy 
 of God, so, considering the manner in which it is 
 said to have been introduced, (separate from the 
 evidence of these facts, which is afterwards to be 
 considered,) it is extremely difficult to imagine 
 from whom else it could have proceeded. 
 
 I will readily allow, that neither the reasonable- 
 ness of its doctrines, nor the purity of its morals, 
 will alone prove its divine original ; since it is pos- 
 sible the reason of one man may discover that, 
 which the reason of another approves, as being, in 
 itself considered, either true in theory, or useful in 
 practice. But this is not all ; for in the present 
 case it is evident, that the first teachers of Chris- 
 tianity professed, that they were taught it by divine 
 revelation, and that they were empowered by God 
 with miraculous endowments for the confirmation 
 of it. Now if it were not indeed so as they profess- 
 ed, how can we account for so strange a phenome- 
 non, as such a doctrine introduced with such 
 pretences ? If it were not from God, whence was 
 it? from good or from evil angels or men ? Wicked 
 creatures, as our Lord strongly intimates, would 
 never contrive and propagate so excellent a scheme; 
 nor can we imagine tliat holy angels, or righteous 
 men, would thus be found false witnesses of God, or 
 have attempted to support the cause of religion and 
 truth, by such impious and notorious falsehoods, as 
 their pretensions must have been, if they were false- 
 hoods at all. 
 
 And thus much for the first branch of the argu- 
 ment : If you consider the Christian scheme only 
 in theory, it appears highly probable ; since a reve- 
 lation was so much needed, might so reasonably be 
 expected, and if it were ever given, would, so far 
 as we can judge, be thus introduced, and be in the 
 main attended with such internal characters. And 
 
 though we have not as yet expressly proved, that 
 the gospel was introduced in such a manner, as the 
 defenders of it assert ; yet it would be strangely 
 unaccountable, that so admirable a system of truth 
 and duty should be advanced by the prince of dark- 
 ness, and the children of wickedness ; as it must 
 have been, if the persons first employed in the pro- 
 pagation of it were not endowed with power from 
 on high. 
 
 To embrace the gospel is so safe, and on the 
 whole so comfortable, a thing, that I think a wise 
 man would deliberately and resolutely venture his 
 all upon it, though nothing more could be offered 
 for its confirmation. But, blessed be God, we have 
 a great deal more to offer in this important cause ; 
 and can add, with still greater confidence, that it is 
 not only in theory thus probable, but, 
 
 Secondly, " That it is in fact certain, that Chris- 
 tianity is indeed a divine revelation." 
 
 Here I confess the chief stress is to be laid ; and 
 therefore I shall insist more largely on this branch 
 of the argument, and endeavour, by the divine 
 assistance, to prove the certainty of this great fact. 
 You will naturally apprehend, that I speak only of 
 what is commonly called a moral certainty ; * but I 
 need speak of no more ; for in many eases, such 
 kind of evidence gives the mind as ample and as 
 rational a satisfaction, as it may find even in some 
 supposed mathematical demonstration ; since there 
 it is possible, at least in a long deduction of parti- 
 culars, for the most sagacious of mankind to fall 
 into a mistake. 
 
 Now in order to settle this grand point as clearly 
 as I can, I think it may be proper to prove, 
 
 I. That the books of the New Testament, as they 
 are now in your bands, may be depended upon as 
 written by the first preachers and publishers of 
 Christianity. And, 
 
 II. That from hence it will certainly follow, that 
 what they assert is true, and that the religion they 
 teach brings along with it such evidences of a 
 divine authority, as may most justly recommend it 
 to our acceptance. 
 
 Each of these heads might furnish out matter for 
 many volumes ; but it is my business to hint at the 
 most obvious and important thoughts, by which 
 they may briefiy be illustrated and confirmed. 
 
 I. I am to prove to you, " that the books of the 
 New Testament, now in your hands, were written 
 by the first preachers and publishers of Chris- 
 tianity." 
 
 You see I confine the present proof to the New 
 Testament. Not that I think the authority of the 
 Old to be suspected, or the use of it by any means 
 to be despised. God forbid ! It is an invaluable 
 
 * Wliiili, ttioueli it amount not to strict (lomnnstration, is such kind 
 of evidence as suits past matters of fact, and is suHicicnt to make a 
 candid and rational inquirer easy in his assent. 
 
678 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 treasure, which (lemniuls our daily delightful and 
 thankful penis:.!, and is capable of being defended 
 in a manner which I am persuaded its subtlest 
 enemies will never be able to answer. But the 
 nature of my present argument, and the limits of my 
 time, oblige me at present to wave the proof of it, 
 any further tlian as it is implied in, and dependent 
 upon, what I have more immediately in view. 
 
 In the process of the discourse, though I shall 
 studiously avoid any vain ostentation of learning, 
 yet it will be absolutely necessary to assert some 
 things, which cannot certainly be known, without 
 some little acquaintance with the ancient writers. 
 You cannot, most of you, be supposed to have form- 
 ed such an acquaintance ; but I take it for granted 
 jou will readily believe, that I will not " lie for 
 God, nor talk deceitfully for him." I shall say 
 nothing of this kind, but what I know to be contain- 
 ed ill those writings ; and you may assure yourselves, 
 that no man of common sense, whatever his moral 
 or religious character were, would venture in such 
 an age as this, publicly to cite passages, as from 
 authors in every one's hands, which he cannot prove 
 to be contained in them. 
 
 Having premised these things, I go on to the 
 argument ; and shall advance in it by the following 
 degrees. I shall prove, — that Christianity is an 
 ancient religion ; — that there was such a person as 
 Jesus of Nazareth, crucified at Jerusalem about 
 seventeen hundred years ago ; — that the first 
 preachers of his religion wrote books, which went 
 by the name of those that now make up the volume 
 of our New Testament ; — that they are preserved in 
 the original to the present times ; — and that the 
 translation of them, which you have, is in the main 
 such as may be depended upon as faithful. And 
 then I shall have clearly made out what I proposed 
 in this first part. 
 
 1. It is certain, "that Christianity is not a new 
 religion, but that it was maintained by great multi- 
 tudes, quickly after the time in which Jesus is said 
 to have appeared." 
 
 That there was, considerably more than sixteen 
 hundred years ago, a body of men, who went by 
 the name of Christians, is almost as evident, as that 
 a race of men was then existing in the world ; nor 
 do I know, that any have ever been wild and con- 
 fident enough to dispute it. If any should for ar- 
 gument sake question it, they might quickly be 
 convinced by a considerable number of Christian 
 writers, who lived in the same or in the next age,* 
 and mention it as a thing notoriously certain, that 
 Christianity was then of some standing in the 
 world ; some of them giving directions and exhort- 
 
 * Sucti as Clemens Romanus, T{fnatius, Polycarp, FJustin Martyr, 
 IreniEUs, Tatiau, Allienagoras, and Theopiiilus Antiochenus, who all 
 wrote before the year 200, and some in llie first century; not to iirye 
 Barnabas and Hermas ; nor to mention any of those cited by Eusebins, 
 whose books are all lost, except some fragments, preserved chiefly by 
 that excellent writer. 
 
 ations to their brethren, and others forming apolo- 
 gies to their enemies, for which there could not 
 otherwise have been the least foundation. We 
 might have acquiesced in their testimony, had it 
 been alone ; but it is confirmed by that of Jews and 
 heathens, who, by their early invectives against 
 the Christians, do most evidently prove, that there 
 was such a body of men in the world. — The most 
 considerable Roman historians, who lived in this 
 age, and wrote of it, are Tacitus and Suetonius, 
 who both published their writings above sixteen 
 hundred years ago ; and they are always, and very 
 justly, appealed to, as pregnant witnesses upon this 
 occasion. — For Tacitus assures us, "that in Nero's 
 days," who begun his reign about twenty years 
 after the death of Christ, "there was a vast mul- 
 titude of Christians, not only in Judea, but at 
 Rome too ; against whom Nero raised a persecu- 
 tion, attended with such circumstances of ignominy 
 and cruelty, as moved the compassion even of their 
 enemies ;" of which number this historian evidently 
 was.f Nay, he plainly intimates, this was not the 
 first attempt which had been made to crush them ; 
 though this attempt was so early as we have heard. 
 — His contemporary Suetonius, in his more concise 
 manner, attests the same.t — And Pliny, the intimate 
 friend and correspondent of both, being employed 
 in Trajan's time to persecute the Christians, writes 
 an account of them to that emperor, which, though 
 commonly known, must be mentioned, as it is so 
 highly important. After having spoken very fa- 
 vourably of their moral character, he adds, " that 
 many of both sexes, and of every age and rank, 
 were infected with this superstition ;" as he thinks 
 fit to express it ; " that it was got into the villages, 
 as well as the cities ; and that till he begun to put 
 the laws in execution against them, the temples of 
 the heathen deities were almo,st deserted, and hardly 
 any could be found who would buy victims for 
 them."^ — It might be added, that Marcus Antoni- 
 nus, || who wrote a few years after Pliny, mentions 
 the Christians, " as examples of a resolute and ob- 
 stinate contempt of death :" and it is generally " 
 supposed they are the Galileans, whom Epictetus 
 
 + Nero quaesitissimis pcenis affecit, quos, per Sap^itia invisos, viiljua 
 Christianos appellabat. — Rei)ressa in praesens exitiabilis superstitio, 
 rursus erunipebat, non modo per Judieam, orii^inem ejus mali, sed per 
 urbem etiani, &o. — Multitudo ingeus— Odio humani generis convicli 
 sunt; et pereimtibus addita ludibria, — unde miseratio oriebatur, fitc. 
 Tacit. Annal. Lib. xv. c. 44. 
 
 t Adlicti sujiiiliciis Christiani, ^enus hominum superstitionis novae 
 ac malefic*. >>ueton. Ner. cap. xvi. 
 
 \ Mnlti omnis aetatis, omnis ordinis, utriusque soxus eliam vo- 
 cantur in periculuni. Necpie civitatcs tantum, sed vicos etiara, atque 
 a;;ros, superstitionis istius contagio pervagata est ; — prope jam dc- 
 solata teinpla, — et sacra solennia diu intermissa ; victimas, quarum 
 adhiic rarissimus emptor inveniebalur. Plin. Epist. Lib. x. Epist. 97. 
 
 Il Uloc^Oi tnro\vO)jvat T>1 (T«/iaTO?, /in Kara ^lfi\i)V napaia^tv, <i)r ot 
 
 Xpi'smi'oi. Marc. Antonin. Lib. xi. { 3.— See also this Emperor'i 
 Constitution to the Community of Asia, (as inserted by Eusebiua in 
 his Ecclesiastical History, Lib. iv. cap. l.i.) in which he mentions their 
 persecuting: the Christians to death ; and speaks of these persecutionj 
 as havinf^ continued a considerable time. N. B. This was inserted 
 in Melito's Apology for the Christians, which he wrote in that em- 
 peror's reign, so that there cannot be the least doubt of its beinjr 
 genuine. 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 679 
 
 speaks of,* " as those whom practice had taught to 
 despise the rage of their armed enemies." f 
 
 I shall dismiss this head with observing, that it 
 tends greatly to the confirmation of Christianity, 
 that each of these celebrated and ancient writers, at 
 the same time that they attest the existence of such 
 a body of men professing it, inform us of those ex- 
 treme persecutions which they underwent, in the 
 very infancy of their religion ! a fact further ap- 
 parent from the apologies addressed to their per- 
 secutors, which, whatever imperfections may attend 
 the manner in which some of them are written, 
 appear to me some of the most valuable remains of 
 antiquity, (the sacred records only excepted,) espe- 
 cially all those of Justin Martyr, Tertullian, and 
 Minutius Felix. This fundamental point is then 
 abundantly made out; that there were vast numbers 
 of men, very quickly after the time when Jesus is 
 said to have appeared on earth, who professed his 
 religion, and chose to endure the greatest extremi- 
 ties, rather than they would abandon it. From 
 hence it will be easy to show, 
 
 2. " That there was certainly su-h a person as 
 Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified at Jerusalem, 
 when Pontius Pilate was the Roman governor 
 there." 
 
 It can never be imagined, that multitudes of peo- 
 ple should take their name from Christ, and sacri- 
 fice their lives for their adherence to him, even in 
 the same age in which he is said to have lived, if 
 they had not been well assured, there was such a 
 person. Now several of the authors I have men- 
 tioned plainly assert, that the Christians were de- 
 nominated from Christ ; nay, Tacitus expressly 
 adds, " that he was put to death under Pontius 
 Pilate, who was procurator of Judaea, in the reign 
 of Tiberius. "J And it is well known, that the 
 primitive Christian apologists often appeal to the 
 acts of Pilate, § or the memoirs of his government, 
 (which he, according to the custom of the procura- 
 tors, transmitted to Rome,) as containing an ac- 
 count of these transactions : and as the appeal was 
 made to those who had the command of public 
 records, we may assure ourselves such testimonies 
 were then extant. But it is a fact, which our ene- 
 mies never denied ; they owned it, they even glo- 
 ried in it. The Jews, therefore, in some of their 
 
 * 'YffO /xai/iaf nev AvvaTai rit mta 6ta7ii)r\vai irpot Tai/Tn. (6apv^opHV 
 scil. ti naxaipat) Kai i/iro e9»f ol TaXiXaioi. Arrian. Epictit. Lib. iv. 
 cap. 7. pag. <tao. 
 
 + Thw would be the proper place to mention tlie passage snid to be 
 in Philo Juda^iis, (who was contemporary with the apostles,) relating 
 to tlie Christians in his days, and tlie metliods taken l)y an embassy 
 from Jerusalem to prevent the progress of their religion : bnt thoni^h 
 I verily believe the fact to have been true, I omit it, for reasons which 
 
 the reader will find in a note under head 3, of the next Sermon. 
 
 Some other pa.s«age8 of ancient writers, which might be very per- 
 tinent here, I reserve to mention under some following heacfs, and 
 particularly where I shall speak of the Miraculous Propagation of the 
 Gospel. 
 
 { Auctor nominis ejus Christus, qui Tiberio imperante per procu- 
 ralorem Pontium Pilatum supplicio affectus erat. Tacit, ubi supra. 
 » Vid. Justin. Mart. Apolog. Oper. page 76. ct Tcrtul. Apol. cap. 
 
 earliest writings since those times, call Jesus by 
 the ignominious name of " the Man who was 
 hanged, or crucified ;" and his followers, " the 
 servants of the crucified person. "|| And Lucian 
 rallies them for deserting the pompous train of the 
 heathen deities, to worship one whom he impious- 
 ly calls " a crucified impostor."^ [Spartian also 
 assures us, that the Emperor Alexander Severus 
 entertained such high thoughts of Christ, " that he 
 would have admitted him into the number of his 
 deities, and have built a temple to him, had not 
 his pagan subjects opposed it."** And Porphyry, 
 though an inveterate enemy to Christianity, not 
 only allowed there was such a person, but honoured 
 him " as a most wise and pious man, approved by 
 the gods, and taken up to heaven for his distin- 
 guished virtues. "ft] I might add a great deal more 
 on this head ;J| but it already appears as certain as 
 ancient hi.story can make it, and incomparably 
 more certain than most of the facts v/hich it has 
 transmitted to us, that there was at the time com- 
 monly supposed such a person as Christ, who pro- 
 fessed himself a divine Teacher, and who gathered 
 many disciples, by whom his religion was very soon 
 afterwards published in the world. 
 
 3. It is also certain, " that the first publishers of 
 this religion wrote books, which contained an ac- 
 count of the life and doctrine of Jesus their Mas- 
 ter, and which went by the name of those that now 
 make up our New Testament." 
 
 It was in the nature of things exceeding proba- 
 ble, that what they had seen and heard, they would 
 declare and publish to the world in writing; con- 
 sidering, how common books were in the age and 
 countries in which they taught ; and of how great 
 importance an acquaintance with the history and 
 doctrine of Christ was, to the purposes which they 
 so strenuously pursued. But we have much more 
 than such a presumptive evidence. 
 
 The greatest adversaries of Christianity must 
 grant, that we have books of great antitjuity, writ- 
 ten, some fourteen, others fifteen, and some sixteen, 
 hundred years ago ;^§ in which mention is nmdc of 
 
 [| Buxtorf Lexic. Talmud, in Voce 
 
 ^ Tov 36 ave(TKo\o-niirixevov €Kcivov aoipintjv aunav rrpOfTKVvUKTt. Lucian. 
 de Morle Pere^'rini, Oper. Tom. II. pag. 508. [I mig'-i here introduce 
 a great many other remarkable particulars from this writer, which re- 
 late to " the forlilude of the Christians in bearing sufferings, their en- 
 tire submission to the authority of Jesus, their unparalleled charity to 
 each other, the prophets and messengers of their churches, and the 
 great progress of their religion." All these things are mentioned in 
 the Pseudomanlis, and the Death of Peregrinus, which are undoubted- 
 ly Lucian's: not to mention those very memorable passages in the 
 Pliilopatris, which is of a much later date. Bnt a particular detail of 
 these things would swell this note to a very improper bulk.] 
 
 * * Spartian. de Vita Severi, cap. xxix. et xliii. 
 
 'tf Euseb. Demonstr. Evang. Lib. iii. pag. 134. 
 
 it I say nothing of the celebrated passage in Joscnhns, (Antiq. Lib. 
 xviii. cap. 4.) because it has been disputed ; though I know no con- 
 .siderable objection against it, but its being so honourable to Chris- 
 tianity, that one would hardly imagine a Jew could write it. 
 
 }J iSuch as Tatian, Irenceus, Tertullian, Clemens Alexandrinils, 
 Origcii, Eusebius, and many others; see Jones of the Canon, part iv. 
 Introdiict, Justin Martyr's controversy with Trypho, and Origeii's 
 with Celsus, prove that Jews and heathens allowed, not only lliat 
 there were such books, but that they contained the religion of Chris, 
 tians. 
 
G80 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 the life of riirist, as written by many, and especial- 
 ly by four of his disciples, who, by way of eminence, 
 are called the Evangtclists. Great pains have in- 
 deed been taken to prove, that some spurious 
 pieces were published under the names of the 
 apostles, containing the history of these things : 
 but surely this must imply, that it was a thin|j 
 known and allowed, that the apostles did write 
 some narrations of this kind ; as counterfeit coin 
 implies some true money, which it is desig;ncd to 
 represent. And I am sure, he must be very little 
 acquainted with the ancient ecclesiastical writers, 
 who docs not know, that the primitive Christians 
 made a very prreat difierenee between those writings, 
 which we call the Canonical Books of the New 
 Testament, and others : which plainly shows, that 
 they did not judge of writings, merely by the names 
 of tlieir pretended authors, but inquired with an 
 accuracy becoming the importance of those pre- 
 tences. The result of this inquiry was, that the 
 four Gospels, the Acts, thirteen Epistles of Paul, 
 one of Peter, and one of Jolin, were received upon 
 such evidence, that Eusebius, a most accurate and 
 early critic in these things, could not learn that they 
 had ever been disputed ;* and afterwards the re- 
 maining books of the New Testament, Hebrews, 
 James, the second of Peter, the second and third of 
 John, Jude, and the Revelation, were admitted as 
 genuine, and added to the rest ; though some cir- 
 cumstances attending them rendered their authority 
 for a while dubious. On the whole it is plain, the 
 primitive Christians were so satisfied in the authority 
 of these sacred books, that they speak of them, not 
 only as credible and authentic, but as equal to the 
 oracles of the Old Testament, as divinely inspired, 
 as the words of the Spirit, as the law and organ of 
 God, and as the rule of faith which cannot be con- 
 tradicted without great guilt : with many other ex- 
 pressions of the like kind, which often occur in 
 their discourses. To which I may add, that in some 
 of their councils the New Testament was placed on 
 a throne, to signify their concern, that all their con- 
 troversies and actions might be determined and re- 
 gulated by it. 
 
 On the whole then, you see, that the primitive 
 church did receive certain pieces, which bore the 
 same titles with the books of our New Testament. 
 Now I think it is evident they were as capable of 
 judging whether a book was written by Matthew, 
 John, or Paul, as an ancient Roman could be of deter- 
 mining whether Horace, Tully, or Livy wrote those 
 which go under their names. And I am sure the in- 
 terest of the former was so much more concerned in 
 the writings of the apostles, than that of the latter in 
 the compositions of the poets, orators, or even their 
 historians; that there is reason to believe, they 
 would take much greater care to inform themselves 
 
 * Euseb. Eccles. Hist. Lib. vi. cap. 25. 
 
 fully in the merits of the cause, and to avoid being 
 imposed upon by artifice and fiction. Let mc now 
 show, 
 
 4. " That the books of the New Testament have 
 been preserved in the main uncorrupted, to the 
 present time, in the original language in which 
 they were written." 
 
 This is a matter of vast importance, and blessed 
 be God, it is attended with proportionable evi- 
 dence ; an evidence, in which the hand of Provi- 
 dence has indeed been remarkably seen ; for I am 
 confident, that there is no other ancient book in the 
 world, which may so certainly, and so easily, be 
 proved to be authentic. 
 
 And here, I will not argue merely from the piety 
 of the primitive Christians, and the heroic resolu- 
 tion with which they chose to endure the greatest 
 extremities, rather than they would deliver up their 
 Bibles ; (though that be a consideration of some 
 evident weight ;) but shall entreat you to consider 
 the utter impossibility of corrupting them. From 
 the first ages, they were received, and read in the 
 churches, as a part of their public worship, just as 
 Moses and the Prophets were in the Jewish syna- 
 gogues ; they were presently spread far and wide, 
 as the boundaries of the church were increased ; 
 they were early translated into other languages, of 
 which translations some remain to this day. Now 
 wlien this was the case, how could they possibly be 
 adulterated? Is it a thing to be supposed, or 
 imagined, that thousands and millions of people 
 should have come together from distant countries ; 
 and that with all their diversities of language, and 
 customs, and I may add, of sentiments too, they 
 should have agreed on corrupting a book, which 
 they all acknowledged to be the rule of their faith, 
 and their manners, and the great charter by which 
 they held their eternal hopes. It were madness to 
 believe it; especially when we considerwhat num- 
 bers of heretics appeared in the very infancy of the 
 church, who all pretended to build their notions on 
 Scripture, and most of them appealed to it as the 
 final judge of controversies : now it is certain, that 
 these different parties of professing Christians were 
 a perpetual guard upon each other, and rendered it 
 impossible for one party to practise grossly on the 
 sacred books, without the discovery and the clamour 
 of the rest. 
 
 Nor must I omit to remind you, that in every age, 
 from the apostles' time to our own, there have been 
 numberless quotations made from the books of the 
 New Testament; and a multitude of commentaries 
 in various languages, and some of very ancient date, 
 have been written upon them ; so that if the books 
 themselves were lost, I believe they might in a great 
 measure, if not entirely, be recovered from the 
 writings of others. And one might venture to say, 
 that if all the quotations, which have ever been 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 681 
 
 made from all the ancient writings now remaining 
 in Europe, were to be amassed together, the bulk of 
 them would be by no means comparable to that of 
 the quotations taken from the New Testament 
 alone. So that a man might with a much better 
 face dispute, whether the writings ascribed to 
 Homer, Demosthenes, Virgil, or Caesar, be in the 
 main such as they left them ; than he could ques- 
 tion it concerning those of Matthew, Mark, Luke, 
 John, Peter, James, and Paul, whether they are in 
 the main so. 
 
 I say, in the main, because we readily allow, that 
 the hand of a printer, or of a transcriber, might 
 chance in some places to insert one letter or word 
 for another ; and the various readings of this, as 
 well as of all other ancient books, prove, that this 
 has sometimes been the case. Nevertheless, those 
 various readings are generally of so little import- 
 ance, that he who can urge them as an objection 
 against the assertion we are now maintaining, must 
 have little judgment, or little integrity ; and, indeed, 
 after those excellent things which have been said 
 on the subject by many defenders of Christianity, 
 if he have read their writings, he must have little 
 modesty too. 
 
 Since then it appears, that the books of the New 
 Testament, as they now stand in the original, arc, 
 without any material alteration, such as they were, 
 when they came from the hands of the persons 
 whose names they bear ; nothing remains to com- 
 plete this part of the argument, but to show, 
 
 .5. " That the translation of them, now in your 
 hands, may be depended upon, as in all things most 
 material agreeable to the original.", 
 
 This is a fact, of which the generality of you are 
 not capable of judging immediately, yet it is a 
 matter of great importance. It is therefore a very 
 1 great pleasure to me to think, what ample evidence 
 you may find another way, to make your minds 
 as easy on this head, as you could reasonably wish 
 them. I mean, by the concurrent testimony of 
 others, in circumstances in which you cannot ima- 
 gine they would unite to deceive you. 
 I There are, to be sure, very few of us, whose ofTice 
 I it is publicly to preach the gospel, who have not 
 examined this matter with care, and who are not 
 capable of judging in so ea.sy a case. I believe 
 you have seen few in the place where I now stand, 
 that could not have told you, as I solemnly do, that 
 ion a diligent comparison of our translation with the 
 ! original, we find that of the New Testament (and 
 il might also add, that of the Old) in the main 
 faithful and judicious. You know, indeed, that we 
 do not scruple on some occasions to animadvert 
 upon it ; but you also know, that these remarks 
 affect not the fundamentals of religion, and seldom 
 reach any further than the beauty of a figure, or at 
 most the connexion of an argument. Nay, I can 
 
 confidently say, that, to the best of my knowledge 
 and remembrance, as there is no copy of the Greek, 
 so neither is there any translation of the New 
 Testament which I have seen, whether ancient or 
 modern, how defective or faulty soever, from which 
 all the principal facts and doctrines of Christianity 
 might not be learnt, so far as the knowledge of them 
 is necessary to salvation, or even to some consider- 
 able degrees of edification in piety. Nor do I ex- 
 cept from this remark, even that most erroneous 
 and corrupt version, published by the English 
 Jesuits at Rheims, which is undoubtedly one of the 
 worst that ever appeared in our language. 
 
 But I desire not, that with respect to our own 
 translation of the New Testament, a matter of so 
 great moment as the fidelity of it should rest on my 
 testimony alone, or entirely on that of any of my 
 brethren, for whose integrity and learning you may 
 have the greatest and justest esteem. I rejoice to 
 say, that this is a head on which we cannot possibly 
 deceive you, if we were ever so desirous to do it. 
 And indeed in this respect that is our advantage, 
 which in others is our great calamity, — I mean the 
 diversity of our religious opinions. It is certain 
 that, wheresoever there is a body of dissenters from 
 the public establishment, who do yet agree with 
 their brethren of that establishment in the use of 
 the same translation, though they are capable of 
 examining it, and judging of it; there is as great 
 evidence as could reasonably be desired, that such 
 a translation is, in the main, right ; for if it were 
 in any considerable article corrupted, most of the 
 other debates would quickly lose themselves in this: 
 and though such dissenters had all that candour, 
 tenderness, and respect for their fcllow-cliristians, 
 which I hope we shall always endeavourto maintain ; 
 yet they would, no doubt, think themselves obliged 
 in conscience to bear a warm and loud testimony 
 against so crying an abomination, as they would 
 another day appear free from the guilt of a confe- 
 deracy to poison the public fountains, and destroy 
 the souls of men. But we make no complaint on 
 this subject ; we all unite in bearing our testimony 
 to the oracles of God, as delivered in our own 
 language. O that we were equally united in 
 regulating our doctrine and our discipline, our 
 worship and our practice, by them ! 
 
 You see then, on the whole, how much reason 
 there is to believe, " That the books of the New 
 Testament, as they are now in your hands, were 
 written by tliose whose names they bear, even the 
 first preachers and publishers of Christianity." This 
 is the grand point; and from hence it will follow by 
 a train of easy and natural consequences, that the 
 gospel is most certainly true : but that is a topic of 
 argument abundantly sufficient to furnish out matter 
 for another discourse. May God command his 
 blessing on what has been already laid before us, 
 
C82 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 tliat tliroii^h the operation of liis Spirit, it may be 
 useful for establisliing our rejrard to the Scripture, 
 and for conlirminf!; our faith in tliat Alnun;hty Re- 
 deemer, who is the Alpha and tlie Omeg^, the begin- 
 ning and the end, the first and the last; whom to 
 know is life everlasting, and in whom to believe is 
 the great security of our eternal salvation ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON XX. 
 
 THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIAMTY DEDUCED FROM 
 THE NEW TESTAMENT ALLOWED TO BE GENUINE. 
 
 2 Pet. i. 16. 
 
 — We have not followed cunninghj devised fables. 
 
 When we are addressing ourselves to an audience 
 of professing Christians, I think we may reasonably 
 take it for granted in the main course of our minis- 
 try, that they believe the truth of the gospel, and 
 may argue with them on that snpposition. To be 
 ever laying the foundation would be the part of an 
 unwise builder, and be greatly detrimental to your 
 edification and comfort, and, I may add, to our own. 
 Nevertheless, Christians, we do not desire that you 
 should take it merely upon our word, that your re- 
 ligion is divine, and your Scriptures inspired. We 
 desire, that your faith, as well as your worship, 
 should be a reasonable service ; and wish that in 
 this respect, all the Lord's people were as prophets ; 
 that as every Christian is in bis sphere set for the 
 defence of the gospel, each might in some measure 
 be able to assert its truth, and, if possible, to con- 
 vince gainsayers. Therefore, as we are often hint- 
 ing at the chief arguments on which this sacred 
 cause is established, (established, I trust, so firmly, 
 that the gates of hell shall never prevail against 
 it,) so I thought it might be agreeable and useful, 
 on this occasion, to state them a little more largely, 
 in their proper connexion, and mutual dependence. 
 And I choose the rather to do it, as these Sermons 
 are especially intended for young peojile, who, in 
 an age in which infidelity s-o much abounds, can 
 hardly expect to pass through the world, if they 
 are called to converse much in it, without some at- 
 tacks on their faith ; which may be very dangerous 
 if they are not provided with some armour of proof 
 against them. It is, indeed, (as I before observed,) 
 above all things to be desired, that the heart may be 
 established with grace ; for we are then most secure 
 from the danger of forgetting God's precepts, when 
 they have been the blessed means of quickening us 
 to a divine life. Yet as other arguments have their 
 use, and in some degree their necessity too, I shall 
 go on briefly to propose them. 
 
 I beg therefore, that you would renew your atten- 
 tion, w hile I resume the thread of my discourse, in 
 an entire dependence on the blessed Spirit, by 
 whom the gospel was at first revealed and confirmed, 
 to add success to this humble attempt for its ser- 
 vice, and for your edification. 
 
 I am now showing you, that Christianity, which 
 before appeared in theory probable and rational, 
 has in fact a convincing evidence : not only that it 
 may be, but that it certainly is, true ; — as it is cer- 
 tain, that the New Testament, as now in your hands, 
 is genuine ; — and as it may with great evidence be 
 argued from thence, that the gospel is a revelation 
 from God. The first of these points I have endea- 
 voured to prove at large ; and without repeating 
 what I said in confirmation of it, I now proceed to 
 show, 
 
 II. " That from allowing the New Testament to 
 be genuine, it will certainly follow, that Christianity 
 is a divine revelation." 
 
 And here a man is, at first, ready to be lost in the 
 multiplicity of arguments which surround him. It 
 is very easy to find proofs ; but difficult to range 
 and dispose them in such an order, as best to illus- 
 trate and confirm each other. Now I choose to 
 offer them in the following series, which seems to 
 me the most natural, and perhaps may be most in- 
 telligible to you. 
 
 The authors of the books contained in the New 
 Testament were capable of judging concerning the 
 truth of the facts they attested ; — their character, so 
 far as we can judge of it by their writings, renders 
 them worthy of regard ; — and they were under no 
 temptation to attempt to impose on the world by 
 such a story as they have given us, if it had been 
 false : so that, considering all things, there is no 
 reason to believe they would attempt it : — but if 
 they had, they must probably have perished in the 
 attempt, and could never have gained credit in the 
 world, had their testimony been false. — Neverthe- 
 less, it is certain in fact, that they did gain credit, 
 and succeed in a most amazing manner against all 
 opposition. — It is certain, therefore, that the facts 
 they assert were true ; and if they were true, then 
 it was reasonable for their contemporaries, and is 
 reasonable for us, to receive the gospel as a divine 
 revelation ; — especially, if we consider what has 
 happened in the world for the confirmation of it, 
 since it was first propagated by them. This is the 
 conclusion to which I was to lead you ; and I beg 
 you would seriously consider each of the steps by 
 which we arrive at it. 
 
 1. It is exceedingly evident, " that the writers 
 of the New Testament certainly knew, whether the 
 facts they asserted were true or false." 
 
 And this they must have known for this plain 
 reason ; because they tell us, they did not trust 
 merely to the report, even of persons whom they 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 683 
 
 ( thought most credible ; but were present them- 
 ! selves when several of the most important facts 
 happened, and so received them on tlie testimony 
 I of their own senses. On this St. John in his Epis- 
 I tie lays a very ^eat and reasonable stress: That 
 ' which we have seen with our eyes, and that not 
 only by a sudden glance, but which we have atten- 
 tively looked upon, and which even our hands have 
 handled of the word of life, i. e. of Christ and his 
 |:ospel, — declare we unto you. 
 
 Let the common sense of mankind judge here. 
 Did not Matthew and John certainly know, whether 
 they had personally and familiarly conversed with 
 Jesus of Nazareth, or not ? whether he had chosen 
 them for his constant attendants and apostles ? 
 whether they had seen him heal the sick, dispossess 
 devils, and raise the dead ? and whether they them- 
 selves had received from him such miraculous en- 
 dowments, as they say he bestowed upon them ? 
 Did not they know, whether he fell into the hands 
 of his enemies, and was publicly put to death, or 
 not? Did not John know, whether he saw him ex- 
 piring on the cross or not? and whether he received 
 from him the dying charge which he records ? Did 
 he not know, whether he saw him wounded in the 
 side with a spear, or not ? and whether he did, or 
 did not, see that effusion of blood and water, which 
 was an infallible argument of his being really dead ! 
 concerning which, it being so material a circum- 
 stance, he adds, " he that saw it bare record, and 
 he knoweth that he saith true ;" i. e. that it was a 
 case in which he could not possibly be deceived. 
 And with regard to Christ's resurrection, did he not 
 certainly know, whether he saw our Lord again and 
 again ? and whether he handled his body, that he 
 might be sure it was not a mere phantom? What 
 one circumstance of his life could he certainly 
 know, if he were mistaken in this ? 
 
 Did not Luke know, whether he was in the ship 
 with Paul, when that extraordinary wreck hap- 
 pened, by which they were thrown ashore on the 
 island of Malta? Did he not know whether, while 
 they were lodged together in the governor's house, 
 Paul miraculously healed one of the family, and 
 many other diseased persons in the island, as he 
 positively asserts he did. 
 
 Did not Paul certainly know, whether Christ ap- 
 peared to him on the way to Damascus, or not? 
 whether he was blind, and afterwards on the 
 prayer of a fellow-disciple received his sight ? or was 
 that a circumstance in which there could be room 
 for mistake ? Did he not know, whether he received 
 such extraordinary revelations, and extraordinary 
 powers, as to be able, by the imposition of his 
 hands, or by the words of his mouth, to work 
 miracles, and even to convey supernatural endow- 
 ments to others ? 
 To add no more, did not Peter know, whether he 
 
 saw the glory of Christ's transfiguration, and heard 
 that voice to which he so expressly refers, when he 
 says in the text. We have not followed cunningly 
 devised fables, — but were eye-witnesses of his 
 majesty, — when there came such a voice to him; — 
 and this voice we heard. 
 
 Now Matthew, John, Luke, Paul, and Peter, are 
 by far the most considerable writers of the New 
 Testament ; and I am sure, when you reflect on 
 these particulars, you must own, that there are few 
 historians, ancient or modern, that could so cer- 
 tainly judge of the truth of the facts they have re- 
 lated. You may perhaps think I have enlarged 
 too much in stating so clear a case : but you will 
 please to remember, it is the foundation of the 
 whole argument ; and that this branch of it alone 
 cuts off infidels from that refuge, which I believe 
 they would generally choose, that of pleading the 
 apostles were enthusiasts ; and leaves them silent, 
 unless they will say they were impostors : for you 
 evidently see, that could we suppose these facts to 
 be false, they could by no means pretend an in- 
 voluntary mistake, but must, in the most criminal 
 and aggravated sense, as Paul himself expresses it, 
 be found false witnesses of God. But how un- 
 reasonable it would be to charge them with so noto- 
 rious a crime, will in part appear, if we consider, 
 
 2. " That the character of these writers, so far as 
 we can judge by their works, seems to render them 
 worthy of regard, and leaves no room to imagine 
 they intended to deceive us." 
 
 I shall not stay to show at large, that they appear 
 to have been persons of natural sense, and at the 
 time of their writing, of a composed mind ; for I 
 verily believe no man that ever read the New Tes- 
 tament with attention, could believe they were idiots 
 or madmen. Let the discourses of Christ in the 
 Evangelists, of Peter and Paul in the Acts, as well 
 as many passages in the Epistles, be perused ; and I 
 will venture to say, he who is not charmed with 
 them, must be a stranger to all the justest rules of 
 polite criticism : but he who suspects, that the 
 writers wanted common sense, must himself be most 
 evidently destitute of it ; and he who can suspect, 
 they might possibly be distracted, must himself, in 
 this instance at least, be just as mad as he imagines 
 them to have been. 
 
 It was necessary however just to touch upon this ; 
 because unless we are satisfied, that a person bo 
 himself in what he writes, we cannot pretend to 
 determine his character from his writings. Having 
 premised this, I must entreat you, as you peruse the 
 New Testament, to observe what evident marks it 
 bears, of simplicity and integrity, of piety and 
 benevolence ; which when you have observed, you 
 will find them pleading the cause of its authors, 
 with a resistless, though a gentle, eloquence ; and 
 powerfully persuading the mind, that men who were 
 
G84 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 capable of writinf; so excellently well, arc not, 
 without the stionRcst evidence, to be suspected of 
 actin!; so detestably ill, as we must suppose they 
 did, if in this solemn manner they were carryins; on 
 an imposture, in such circunistanecs as attended the 
 case before us. For, 
 
 (1.) The manner in which they tell their amazing 
 story, is most liappily adapted to gain our belief. 
 For as they tell it with a great detail of circum- 
 stances, whicli would by no means be prudent in 
 legendary writers, because it leaves so much the 
 more room for confutation ; so they also do it in the 
 most easy and natural manner. There is no air of 
 declamation and harangue; nothing that looks like 
 artifice and design ; no apologies, no encomiums, 
 no characters, no reflections, no digressions : but 
 the facts are recounted with great simplicity, just 
 as they seem to have happened ; and those facts are 
 left to speak for themselves, and their great Author. 
 It is plain, that the rest of these writers, as well as 
 the apostle Paul, did not affect excellency of speech, 
 or flights of eloquence, (as the phrase signifies,) but 
 determined to know nothing, tliough amongst the 
 most learned and polite, save Jesus Christ, even 
 him that was crucified : a conduct that is the more 
 to be admired, when we consider how extraordinary 
 a theme theirs was, and with what abundant va- 
 riety of most pathetic declamation it would easily 
 have furnished any common writer; so that one 
 ■would really wonder how they could forbear it. But 
 they rightly judged, that a vain affectation of orna- 
 ment, when recording such a story as of their own 
 knowledge, might perhaps have brought their sin- 
 cerity into question, and so have rendered the cross 
 of Christ of none effect. 
 
 (2.) Their integrity does likewise evidently appear 
 in the freedom with which they mention those 
 circumstances, which might have exposed their 
 Master and themselves to the greatest contempt, 
 amongst prejudiced and inconsiderate men ; such as 
 they knew they must generally expect to meet 
 with. — As to their Master, they scruple not to own, 
 that his country was infamous, his birth and edu- 
 cation mean, and his life indigent ; that he was most 
 disdainfully rejected by the rulers, and accused of 
 sabbath-breaking, blasphemy, and sedition ; that he 
 ■was reviled by the populace as a debauchee, a 
 lunatic, and a demoniac; and at last, by the united 
 rage of both rulers and people, was publicly exe- 
 cuted as the vilest of malefactors, with all imagin- 
 able circumstances of ignominy, scorn, and abhor- 
 rence : nor do they scruple to own that terror and 
 distress of spirit into which he was thrown by his 
 sufferings, though this was a circumstance at which 
 some of the heathens took the greatest offence, as 
 utterly unworthy so excellent and divine a person. 
 — As to themselves, the apostles readily confess, not 
 only the meanness of their original employments. 
 
 and tlie scandals of their former life ; but their 
 prejudices, their follies, and their faults, after Christ 
 bad honoured them with so holy a calling: they 
 acknowledge their slowness of apprehension under 
 so excellent a teacher, their unbelief, their cowar- 
 dice, their ambition, their rash zeal, and their 
 foolish contentions. So that, on the whole, they 
 seem every where to forget, that they are writing of 
 themselves, and appear not at all solicitous about 
 their own reputation, but only that they niiglit 
 represent the matter just as .it was, whether they 
 went through honour or dishonour, through evil 
 report or good report. Nor is this all ; for, 
 
 (3.) It is certain, that there are in their writings 
 the most genuine traces, not only of a plain and 
 honest, but a most pious and devout, a most bene- 
 volent and generous, disposition. These appear 
 especially in the epistolary parts of the New Testa- 
 ment, where indeed we should most reasonably 
 expect to find them : and of these I may confidently 
 affirm, that the greater progress any one has made 
 in love to God, in zeal for his glory, in a compas- 
 sionate and generous concern for the present and 
 future happiness of mankind ; the more humble, 
 and candid, and temperate, and pure, he is, the 
 more ardently he loves truth, and the more steadily 
 he is determined to suffer the greatest extremity in 
 its defence ; in a word, the more his heart is weaned 
 from the present world, and the more it is fired with 
 the prospects of a glorious immortality, the more 
 pleasure will he take in reading those writings, the 
 more ■will he relish the spirit which discovers itself 
 in them ; and find, that as face answers to face in 
 water, so do the traces of piety and goodness which 
 appear there, answer to those which a good man 
 feels in his own soul. Nay, T will add, that the 
 warm and genuine workings of that excellent and 
 holy temper which every where discovers itself in 
 the New Testament, have for many ages been the 
 most effectual means of spreading a spirit of virtue 
 and piety in the world ; and what of it is to be found 
 in these degenerate days, seems principally owing 
 to these incomparable and truly divine writings. 
 
 Where then there are such genuine marks of an 
 excellent character, not only in laboured discourses, 
 but in epistolary writings, and those sometimes ad- 
 dressed to particular and intimate friends, to whom 
 the mind naturally opens itself with the greatest 
 freedom, surely no candid and equitable judge 
 would lightly believe them all to be counterfeit ; 
 or would imagine, without strong proof, that persons 
 who breathe such exalted sentiments of virtue and 
 piety, should be guilty of any notorious wicked- 
 ness ; and in proportion to the degree of enormity 
 and aggravation attending such a supposed crime, 
 it may ju.stlybe expected, that the evidence of their 
 having really committed it, should be unanswerably 
 strong and convincing. 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 G85 
 
 Now it is most certain, on the principles laid 
 down above, that if the testimony of the apostles 
 was false, they must have acted as detestable and 
 1 villanous a part as one can easily conceive. To 
 I be found (as the apostle with his usual energy ex- 
 i presses it) false witnesses of God in any single 
 I instance, and solemnly declare him miraculously to 
 I have done, what we know in our consciences was 
 never done at all, would be an audacious degree of 
 impiety, to which none but the most abandoned of 
 mankind could arrive. Yet, if the testimony of the 
 apostles was false, as we have proved they could 
 not be themselves mistaken in it, this must have 
 i been their conduct ; and that, not in one single in- 
 stance only, but in a thousand. Their life must, in 
 effect, be one continued and perpetual scene of 
 perjury ; and all the most solemn actions of it, (in 
 which they were speaking to God, or speaking of 
 bim as the God and Father of Christ, from whom 
 they received their mission and powers,) must be a 
 most profane and daring insult on all the acknow- 
 ledged perfections of his nature. 
 
 And the inhumanity of such a conduct would, 
 I on the whole, have been equal to its impiety. For 
 ' it was deceiving men in their most important in- 
 terests, and persuading them to venture their whole 
 future happiness on the power and fidelity of one, 
 whom, on this supposition, they knew to have been 
 an impostor, and justly to have suffered a capital 
 punishment for his crimes. 
 
 It would have been great guilt, to have given the 
 hearts and devotions of men so wrong a turn, even 
 though they had found magistrates ready to espouse 
 and establish, yea, and to enforce, the religion they 
 taught. But to labour to propagate it in the midst 
 of the most vigorous and severe opposition from 
 them, must equally enhance the guilt and folly of 
 the undertaking : for by this means they made 
 themselves accessary to the ruin of thousands ; and 
 all the calamities, which fell on such proselytes, or 
 even on their remotest descendants, for the sake of 
 Christianity, would be chargeable on these first 
 preachers of it. The blood of honest, yea, and 
 (supposing them, as you must, to have been in- 
 voluntarily deceived,) of pious, worthy, and heroic 
 persons, who might otherwise have been the greatest 
 blessings to the public, would, in effect, be crying 
 for vengeance against them ; and the distresses of 
 the widows and orphans, which those martyrs might 
 leave behind them, would join to swell the account. 
 I So that, on the whole, the guilt of those malefac- 
 ! tors, who arc from time to time the victims of public 
 I justice, even for robbery, murder, or treason, is 
 ' small, when compared with that which we have 
 now been supposing: and corrupt as human nature 
 is, it appears to me utterly improbable, twelve men 
 should he found, I will not say, in one little nation, 
 but even on the whole face of the earth, who could 
 
 be capable of entering into so black a confederacy, 
 on any terms whatsoever. 
 
 And now, in this view of the case, make a serious 
 pause, and compare with it what we have just been 
 saying of the character of the apostles of Jesus, so 
 far as an indifferent person could conjecture it from 
 their writings ; and then say, whether you can in 
 your hearts believe them to have been these aban- 
 doned wretches, at once the reproach and astonish- 
 ment of mankind ? You cannot surely believe such 
 things of any ; and much less of them, unless it 
 shall appear, they were in some peculiar circum- 
 stances of strong temptation ; and what those cir- 
 cumstances could be, it is difficult even for imagin- 
 ation to conceive. 
 
 But history is so far from suggesting any un- 
 thought-of fact to help our imagination on this 
 head, that it bears strongly the contrary way ; and 
 hardly any part of my work is easier, than to show, 
 
 3. " That they were under no temptation to forge 
 a story of this kind, or to publish it to the world, 
 knowing it to be false." 
 
 They could reasonably expect no gain, no repu- 
 tation, by it : but on the contrary, supposing it an 
 imposture, they must, with the most ordinary share 
 of prudence, have foreseen infamy and ruin, as the 
 certain consequences of attempting it. For the 
 grand foundation of their scheme was, that Jesus 
 of Nazareth, who M as crucified at Jerusalem by the 
 Jewish rulers, was the Son of God, and the Lord 
 of all things. I appeal to your consciences, whether 
 this looks at all like the contrivance of artful and 
 designing men. It was evidently charging upon 
 the princes of their country the most criminal and 
 aggravated murder, indeed, all things considered, 
 the most enormous act of wickedness which the sun 
 had ever seen. They might therefore depend upon 
 it, that these rulers would immediately employ all 
 their art and power to confute their testimony, and 
 to destroy their persons. Accordingly one of them 
 was presently stoned ; and another quickly after 
 beheaded ; and most of the rest were scattered 
 abroad into strange cities, where they would be 
 sure to be received with great prejudices, raised 
 against them amongst the Jews by reports from 
 Jerusalem,* and vastly strengthened by their ex- 
 
 * I do not here mciilion Pliilo Judaeus, as speaking of " an embassy 
 from the Jews in his early days, to their brethren in all parts of llie 
 world, (xliortin^ them to resist the progress of Christianity." For 
 thonsh Bishop Atterbury asserts, that there is sueh a nasMKP, (Serm. 
 vol. i. p. 117.) I have never been able to find or to near of it; and 
 therefore am ready to believe, it was a very pardonable slip of lii.-i 
 Lordship's memory, and that tlie passage he intended to refer to, was 
 a very celebrated one in Justin Martyr's Dialogue with 'I'rypho the 
 Jew ; in which he expressly asserts such a fact, in a maimer whirl) his 
 intc^rrity and good sense would never have permitted, hail he not cer- 
 taiidy known it to be true. For he addresses the learned Jew, with 
 whom he was disputing, in these memorable words, " You were .so far 
 from repenting of the crime you had committed, (in crucifying Christ,) 
 that yon sent chosen men of the most distiiignisjied character all over 
 the world, representing the Christians as an alhcivticai seel, and eharg. 
 ing us with those things which the ignorant healliens object against 
 
 us." Justin Mart. Dialog, cum Tryph. pag. 171, Thirlb. -Euscbius, 
 
 and Origen, have both mentioned the same fart, which is in itself very 
 probable ; and I'.ierc mjy possibly be some reference to it, Acts xxviil. 
 
686 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 pt'clations of a temporal Messiah ; expectations, 
 wliich as the apostles knew by their own experi- 
 ence, it was exceeding diilieult to root out of men's 
 minds ; expectations, which would render the 
 doctrine of Christ crucified, an insuperable stuiu- 
 blinfj-block. to the Jews. 
 
 Nor could they expect a better reception amongst 
 the Gentiles, with wkom their business was to 
 persuade them to renounce the gods of their ances- 
 tors, and to depend on a person who had died the 
 deatli of a malefactor and a slave ; to persuade them 
 to forego the pompous idolatries in which they had 
 been educated, and all the sensual indulgences 
 with which their religion (if it might be called a 
 religion) was attended, to worship one invisible 
 God, through one Mediator, in the most plain and 
 simple manner; and to receive a set of precepts, 
 most directly calculated to control and restrain, not 
 only the enormities of men's actions, but the irre- 
 gularities of their hearts. A most diflicult under- 
 taking ! And to engage them to this, they had no 
 other arguments to bring but such as were taken 
 from the views of an invisible state of happiness or 
 misery, of which they asserted their crucifled Jesus 
 to be the supreme disposer ; who should another 
 day dispense his blessings, or his vengeance, as the 
 gospel had been embraced or rejected. Now, could 
 it be imagined that men would easily be persuaded, 
 merely on the credit of their affirmation, or in com- 
 pliance with their importunity, to believe things, 
 which to their prejudiced minds would appear so 
 improbable, and to submit to impositions, to their 
 corrupt inclinations so insupportable ? And if they 
 could not persuade them to it, what could the 
 apostles then expect ? What, but to be insulted as 
 fools or madmen, by one sort of people ; and, by 
 another, to be persecuted with the most savage and 
 outrageous cruelty, as blasphemers of the gods, as 
 seducers of the people, and as disturbers of the 
 public peace ? All which we know accordingly hap- 
 pened : nay, they assure us, that their Lord had 
 often warned them of it ; and that they themselves 
 expected it, and thought it necessary to admonish 
 their followers to expect it too : and it appears, 
 that far from drawing back upon that account, as 
 they would surely have done if they had been 
 governed by secular motives, they became so much 
 the more zealous and courageous, and encouraged 
 each other to resist even to blood. Now, as this is 
 a great evidence of the integrity and piety of their 
 character, and thus illustrates the former head ; so 
 it serves to the purpose now immediately in view, 
 i. e. it proves how improbable it is, that any person 
 of common sense should engage in an imposture, 
 from which (as many have justly observed) they 
 could, on their own principles, have nothing to 
 
 22. wlicrp the Jews at Rome «ay, " As concerning this sect, (of Chris- 
 tianity,) wc know that it is every where spoken a^jainst." 
 
 expect, but ruin in this world, and damnation in 
 the next. When, therefore, we consider and com- 
 pare their character and their circumstances, it 
 appears utterly improbable on various accounts, 
 that they would have attempted in tliis article to 
 impose upon the world. But suppose, that in con- 
 sequence of some unaccountable, as well as undis- 
 coverable, frenzy, they had ventured on the attempt, 
 it is easy to show, 
 
 4. " That, humanly speaking, they must quickly 
 have perished in it, and their foolish cause must 
 have died with them, without ever gaining any 
 credit in the world." 
 
 One may venture to say this in general, on the 
 principles which I before laid down. But it ap- 
 pears still more evident, when we consider the 
 nature of the fact they asserted, in conjunction with 
 the methods they took to engage men to believe it : 
 methods which, had the apostles been impostors, 
 must have had the most direct tendency to ruin 
 both their scheme and themselves. 
 
 (1.) Let us a little more particularly reflect on the 
 nature of that grand fact, the death, resurrection, 
 and exaltation of Christ ; which as I observed, was 
 the great foundation of the Christian scheme, as 
 first exhibited by the apostles. — The resurrection of 
 a dead man, and his ascension into, and abode in, 
 the upper world, was so strange a thing, that a 
 thousand objections would immediately be raised 
 against it ; and some extraordinary proof would 
 justly be required as a balance to them. Now I 
 wish the rejecters of the gospel would set them- 
 selves to invent some hypothesis, which should 
 have any appearance of probability, to show how 
 such an amazing story should ever gain credit in 
 i\\e world, if it had not some very convincing proof. 
 Where, and when, could it first begin to be re- 
 ceived ? Was it in the same, or a succeeding, age ? 
 Was it at Jerusalem, the spot of ground on which it is 
 said to have happened, or in Greece, or Italy, or Asia, 
 or Africa ? You may change the scene, and the time, 
 as you please ; but you cannot change the difficulty. 
 
 Take it in a parallel instance. Suppose twelve 
 men in London were now to affirm, tliat a person 
 executed there as a malefactor in a public manner^ 
 a month or six weeks ago, or if you please a year, 
 or five, or ten years since, (for it is much the same,) 
 was a prophet sent from God with extraordinary 
 powers, that he was raised from the dead, that they 
 conversed with him after his revival, and at last 
 saw him taken up into heaven : would their united 
 testimony make them be believed there ? — Or sup- 
 pose them, if you please, to disperse, and that one 
 or two of them should come hither, and go on to 
 more distant places, suppose Leicester, Nottingham, 
 or York, and tell their story there ; and that others 
 were to carry it over to Paris, or Amsterdam, or to 
 Vienna, or Madrid : could they expect any more 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 687 
 
 credit with us, or with them ; or hope for any thing 
 better, than to be looked upon as lunatics, and 
 treated as such ? — And if they should go into other 
 places, and attempt to mend their scheme, by saying 
 their master was put to death one hundred, or two 
 hundred, years ago, when there could be no his- 
 torical evidence of it discovered, and no proof 
 given but their own confident assertion ; would 
 they remove, or would they not rather increase, the 
 difficulty? — Or would they, in any of these cases, 
 gain credit by the most dexterous tricks of leger- 
 demain, of which you cannot suppose them masters ? 
 Especially if they should undertake, in conse- 
 quence of such supposed facts, to engage men to 
 renounce the religion in which they had been edu- 
 cated ; to deny themselves in their dearest passions, 
 and most important worldly interests ; and even, 
 probably, to hazard their liberties and their lives, 
 ia dependence on a future reward, to be received 
 in a place and state, which no man living on earth 
 had ever seen or known ? You would readily allow 
 this to be an unsupposable case : and why should 
 you suppose it to have happened sixteen or seven- 
 teen hundred years ago ? You may assure your- 
 selves, that the reason and the passions of mankind 
 were then as strong as they are now. — But let us a 
 little more particularly consider, 
 
 (2.) The manner in which the apostles undertook 
 to prove the truth of their testimony to this fact ; 
 and it will evidently appear, that instead of con- 
 finning their scheme, it must have been sufficient 
 utterly to have overthrown it, had it been in itself 
 the most probable imposture that the wit of man 
 could ever have contrived. — You know, they did 
 not merely assert, that they had seen miracles 
 wrought by this Jesus, but that he had endowed 
 themselves with a variety of miraculous powers. 
 And these they undertook to display, not in such 
 idle and useless tricks as sleight of hand might 
 perform, but in such solid and important works, as 
 appeared worthy a divine interposition, and entirely 
 superior to human power : restoring, as they pre- 
 tend, sight to the blind, soundness to lepers, activity 
 I to the lame, and in some instances, life to the dead. 
 , Nor were these things undertaken in a corner, in a 
 circle of friends or dependants ; nor were they 
 said to be wrought on such, as might be suspected 
 of being confederates in the fraud : but were done 
 often in the public streets, in the sight of enemies, 
 on the persons of such, as were utter strangers to 
 the apostles, but sometimes well known to neigh- 
 t hours and spectators, as having long laboured 
 j under these calamities, to human skill utterly in- 
 i curable. Would impostors have made such pre- 
 tensions as these? or if they had, must they not 
 immediately have been exposed and ruined ? 
 
 Nor is there any room at all to object, that per- 
 haps the apostles might not undertake to do 
 
 those things on the spot, but only assert they had 
 done them elsewhere : for even then, it would have 
 been impossible they should have gained credit ; 
 and they would have seemed the less credible, on 
 account of such a pretence. Whatever appear- 
 ances there might have been of gravity, integrity, 
 and piety, in the conversation of Peter, (for in- 
 stance,) very few, especially few that had known 
 but little of him, would have taken it upon his 
 word, that he saw Jesus raise Lazarus from the 
 dead at Bethany : but fewer yet would have be- 
 lieved it upon his affirmation, had it been ever so 
 solemn, that he had himself raised Dorcas at Joppa ; 
 unless he had done some extraordinary work before 
 them, correspondent at least, if not equal, to that. 
 You will easily think of invincible objections, 
 which otherwise might have been made ; and un- 
 doubtedly, the more such assertions had been mul- 
 tiplied, every new person, and scene, and fact, 
 had been an additional advantage given to the 
 enemy, to have detected and confuted the whole 
 scheme, which Peter and his associates had thus 
 endeavoured to establish. 
 
 But to come still closer to the point: If the New 
 Testament be genuine, (as I have already proved it,) 
 then it is certain, that the apostles pretend to have 
 wrought miracles in the very presence of those to 
 whom their writings were addressed ; nay more, 
 they profess likewise to have conferred those mira- 
 culous gifts, in some considerable degrees, on others, 
 even on the very persons to whom they write ; and 
 they appeal to their consciences as to the truth of 
 it. And could there possibly be room for delusion 
 here ? It is exceedingly remarkable to this purpose, 
 that Paul makes this appeal to the Corinthians, and 
 Galatians, when there were amongst them some 
 persons disaffected to him, who were taking all op- 
 portunities to sink his character, and destroy his 
 influence : and could they have wished for a better 
 opportunity than such an appeal ? an appeal, 
 which, had not the fact it .supposed been certain, 
 far from recovering those that were wavering in 
 their esteem, must have been sullicient wtterly to 
 disgust his most cordial and steady friends. — And 
 the same remark may be applied to the advices and 
 reproofs, whidi tiie apostle there gives, relating to 
 the use and abuse of their spiritual gifts ; which 
 had been most notoriously absurd, and even ridi- 
 culous, had not the Christians to whom he wrote 
 been really possessed of them. And these gifts 
 were so plainly supernatural, that (as it has often 
 been observed) if it be allowed, that miracles can 
 prove a divine revelation, and that the first epistle 
 to the Corinthians be genuine, (of which, by the 
 way, there is at least as pregnarit evidence, as that 
 any part of the New Testament is so,)* then it fol- 
 lows by a sure and easy consequence, that Chris- 
 
 * I lanrmt but look upon it nsa kind nml remarkable providence to 
 
688 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 tiiiiiily is true. Nevcrtliclcss, other arsunients arc 
 not to be forgot in this survey. — And therefore, as 
 I have proved under this head, that had the testi- 
 mony of the apostles been false, it is not to be 
 iniaitined that they could have gained credit at all ; 
 and esi)ecially, when they had put tlie proof of their 
 cause on such a footing as we arc sure they did ; 1 
 am now to show you, 
 
 5. " That it is certain in fact, that the apostles did 
 pain early credit, and succeeded in a most wonder- 
 ful manner;" from whence it will follow, that their 
 testimony was true. 
 
 That the apostles did indeed gain credit in the 
 world, is evident, from what I before offered to 
 prove the early prevalence of Christianity in it ; and 
 may further he confirmed, from many passages in 
 the New Testament. And here, I insist not so 
 nmch on express historical testimonies, thougli 
 some of them are very remarkable ; especially that 
 of the brethren at Jerusalem, who speak, of many 
 myriads of believing Jews assembled at the feast of 
 Pentecost: but I argue from the epistles written to 
 several churches, which plainly prove, that there 
 were congregations of Christians in Rome, Corinth, 
 Epliesus, Colosse, Thessalonica, Philippi, Laodi- 
 cea, Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadel- 
 phia, Crete, Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, 
 and Bithynia, and many other places ; insomuch 
 that one of the apostles could say, that Christ had 
 so wrought by him, to make the Gentiles obedient, 
 not only in woi-d or profession, but in deed too, that 
 from Jerusalem, even round about unto Illyricuni, he 
 had fully preached the gospel of Christ, or as the 
 word imports,* had accomplished the purposes of 
 it. And there is a great deal of reason, both from 
 the nature of the thing, and from the testimony of 
 ancient history, to believe, that others of the apostles 
 had considerable success elsewhere : so that Paul 
 might with reason apply to them and their doctrine, 
 what is originally spoken of the luminaries of 
 heaven, and the instruction they communicate, 
 " Their line is gone out through all the earth, and 
 their words to the ends of the world." 
 
 So great was the number of those, who were pro- 
 selyted to Christianity by the preaching of the 
 apostles : and we have all imaginable reason to 
 believe, that there were none of all these proselytes, 
 but what were fully persuaded of the truth of the 
 testimony they bore ; for otherwise, no imaginable 
 reason can be given for their entering themselves 
 into such a profession. The apostles had no secular 
 terrors to aflright them, no secular rewards to bribe 
 
 this purpose, that tliere is still extant an Epislle of Clemens Romanus 
 to the Church at Corinth, probably written before the year of Christ 
 70, in which he plainly refers to I Cor. i. 12. in what he cites from 
 " an epistle of I'aul w ritten to them by tiie Spirit at his (irst preachinj; 
 the gospel among them." Clem. Epist. I. atl Cor. } 47. 
 
 thein,t no dazzling eloquence to enchant them : on 
 the contrary, all these were in a j)owerful manner 
 pleading against the apostles ; yet their testimony 
 was received, and their new converts were so tho- 
 roughly satisfied with the evidence which they gave 
 them of their mission, that they encountered great 
 persecutions, and cheerfully ventured estate, liberty, 
 and life itself, on the truth of the facts they assert- 
 ed; as plainly appears from many passages in the 
 epistles, which none can think the apostles would 
 ever have written if these first Christians had not 
 been in a persecuted condition. 
 
 Nor will it signify any thing to object, that most 
 of these converts were persons of a low rank, and 
 ordinary education, who therefore might be more 
 easily imposed upon than others : for (not to men- 
 tion Sergius Paulus, Dionysius the Areopagite, or 
 the domestics of C;esar's household, with others of 
 superior stations in life) it is sullicient to remind 
 you that, as I have largely shown, the apostles did 
 not put their cause on the issue of laboured argu- 
 ments, in which the populace might quickly have 
 been entangled and lost, but on such plain facts, as 
 they might judge of, as easily, and surely, as any 
 others ; indeed on what they themselves saw, and 
 in part, too, on what they felt. 
 
 Now I apprehend, this might be sufficient to bring 
 the matter to a satisfactory conclusion. You have 
 seen, that as there is no reason to believe, that the 
 apostles, who certainly knew the truth, would have 
 attempted a fraud of this kind ; — so if they had 
 attempted it, they could not possibly have succeed- 
 ed ; — nevertheless, they did succeed in a very re- 
 markable manner ; — from whence it plainly follows, 
 that what they testified was true. 
 
 And now then, after this, the reasonableness of 
 receiving the gospel, on admitting the truth of what 
 they testified concerning Christ, is an easy conse- 
 quence. Yet some things are to be offered under 
 this head, which are of great weight, and would not 
 so conveniently have fallen under any of the former ; 
 and some considerable additional evidence to the 
 truth of Christianity arises, from what has happened 
 in the world since its first propagation. And there- 
 fore I choose rather to make a discourse on these, 
 with the improvement of the whole, than to throw 
 together the hints of them, in so hasty a manner as 
 I must do, should I attempt to despatch the subject 
 in this discourse, the just limits of which I have 
 already transgressed, lest the great chain of the 
 argument should be broken. 
 
 + As for the distribution of goods in Judea, it is plain it was pecnliar 
 to that time and country ; and the extraordinary proseculioji, which 
 from the very infancy of Christianity prevailed there, was more than 
 an equivalent for any advantage, which the poorest of the people could 
 gain by it. I did not therefore think it ncces.sary to meDtiuu it. 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 G89 
 
 SERMON XXI. 
 
 ADDITIONAL EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, AND 
 REFLECTIONS ON THE WHOLE. 
 
 2 Pet. i. 16. 
 We have not followed cunningly devised fables. 
 
 As I had before proved the books of the New Testa- 
 ment to be genuine, I proceeded in my last dis- 
 course to argue from thence the certain truth of the 
 Christian revelation; and we have made some con- 
 siderable progress in the argument. 
 
 The matter in short stands thus : — The authors of 
 the New Testament certainly knew whether the 
 facts they asserted were true or false ; so that they 
 could not themselves be deceived : — neither can we 
 think they would attempt to deceive others, since 
 they appear by their manner of writing, to have 
 been persons of great integrity and goodness ; — 
 and it is likewise evident, they could have no temp- 
 tation to attempt a fraud of this nature : — however, 
 if they had attempted it, we cannot imagine they 
 could have gained credit in the world, if the facts 
 they asserted had not been true : — nevertheless they 
 did gain credit in a very remarkable manner ; from 
 whence it plainly follows, that those facts were 
 true. — Now I am to show further, to complete the 
 proof of our grand proposition, 
 
 6. "That admitting the facts which they testified 
 concerning Christ to be true, then it was reasonable 
 for their contemporaries, and is reasonable for us, 
 to receive the gospel which they have transmitted 
 to us, as a divine revelation." 
 
 The great thing they asserted was, that Jesus W'as 
 the Christ, and that he was proved to be so, — by 
 prophecies accomplislied in him, — and by miracles 
 wrought by him, and by others in his name. Let 
 us attend to each of these, and I am persuaded we 
 shall find them no contemptible arguments ; but 
 must be forced to acknowledge, that the premises 
 being established, the conclusion most easily and 
 necessarily follows : and this conclusion, that .lesus 
 is the Christ, taken in all its extent, is an abstract 
 of the gospel revelation, and therefore is sometimes 
 put for the whole of it. 
 
 The apostles, especially when disputing with the 
 Jews, did frequently argue from " the prophecies 
 of the Old Testament ;" in which, they say, many 
 things were expressly foretold, which were most 
 I literally and exactly fulfilled in Jesus of Nazareth. 
 I Now, greatly to the evidence, confirmation, and ad- 
 vantage of Christianity, so it is, that these proplie- 
 cies are to this day extant in their original language ; 
 and this, in the hands of a people most implacably 
 averse to the gospel : so that an attentive reader 
 2 Y 
 
 may still, in a great measure, satisfy himself as to 
 the validity of the argument drawn from them. 
 
 On searching these ancient and important re- 
 cords, we find, not only in the general, that God 
 intended to raise up for his people an illustrious 
 deliverer, who, amongst other glorious titles, is 
 sometimes called the Messiah, or the Anointed 
 One ; but we arc more particularly told, that this 
 great event should happen before the government 
 ceased in the tribe of Judah ; while the second 
 temple was standing ; and a little before its de- 
 struction, about four hundred and ninety years 
 after a command given to rebuild Jerusalem ; 
 which was probably issued out in the seventh year 
 of Artaxerxes Longimanus' or at least within a few 
 years before or after it. It is predicted, that he 
 should be the seed of Abraham, born of a virgin, of 
 the house of David, in the town of Bethlehem; that 
 he should be anointed with an extraordinary effu- 
 sion of the divine Spirit, in virtue of which, he 
 should not only be a perfect and illustrious ex- 
 ample of universal holiness and goodness, but 
 should also perform many extraordinary and bene- 
 ficial miracles ; nevertheless, that, for want of ex- 
 ternal pomp and splendour, he should be rejected 
 and insulted by the Jews, and at length be cut off 
 and slain by them. It is added, that he should 
 arise from the dead before his body should be cor- 
 rupted in the grave ; and should be received up to 
 heaven, and there seated at the right hand of CJod ; 
 from whence he should in a wonderful manner pour 
 out his Spirit on his followers ; in consequence of 
 which, though the body of the Jewish people 
 perished in their obstinate opposition to him, yet 
 the Gentiles should be brought to the knowledge of 
 the true God, and a kingdom established amongst 
 them, which from small beginnings should spread 
 itself to the ends of the earth, and continue to tlie 
 remotest ages. 
 
 Besides these most material circumstances, there 
 were several others relating to him, which were 
 either expressly foretold, or at least hinted at ; all 
 which, with those already mentioned, had so evi- 
 dent an accomplishment in Jesus, (allowing the 
 truth of the facts which the apostles testified con- 
 cerning him,) that we have no reason to wonder 
 that they should receive the word with all readiness, 
 who searched the Scriptures daily, whether these 
 things were so predicted there, as the apostles af- 
 firmed. For I am persuaded, that no wise and 
 religious person could imagine, that God would 
 [lermit an impostor to arise, in whom so great a va- 
 riety of predictions, delivered by so many diflcreiit 
 persons, and in so many distant ages, should have 
 an exact accomplishment. 
 
 When the apostles were preaching to heathens, it 
 is indeed true, that they generally waved the argu- 
 ment from prophecy, because they were not so capa- 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 l)lo jiuln;es of it: but then tlicv insist on another, 
 «hicli niifilit as soon captivate their belief, and as 
 justly vindicate it, I mean " the miracles performed 
 by Christ, and those commissioned and inllncnccd 
 by him." Many of these were of such a nature as 
 not to admit of any artifice or deceit ; especially 
 that most sifjnal one of his resurrection from tlic 
 dead, which I may call a miracle performed \ry, as 
 well as upon, Christ ; because he so expressly de- 
 clares, that lie bad himself a power to resume his 
 life at j>lcasure. The apostles well knew this was 
 a fact of such a nature, that they who believed this 
 would never doubt of the rest : they therefore often 
 single this out, and lay the whole stress of their 
 cause upon it. This they proved to be true, by their 
 own testimony miraculously confirmed ; and in 
 provinof this they established Christianity on an 
 impregnable rock. For I may safely refer it to any 
 of you to judgfe, whether it is an imaginable thing: 
 that God should raise the dead body of an impostor; 
 especially when he had solemnly appealed to such 
 a resurrection, as the grand proof of his mission, 
 and had expressly fixed the very day on which it 
 was to happen. 
 
 I persuade myself you are convinced by all this, 
 that they who on the apostles' testimony believed, 
 that the prophecies of the Old Testament were ac- 
 complished in Jesus, and that God bore witness to 
 him by miracles, and raised him from the dead, had 
 abundant reason to believe, that the doctrine which 
 Christ taught was divine, and his gospel a revela- 
 tion from heaven. And if they had reason to admit 
 this conclusion, then it is plain that we, who have 
 such satisfactory evidence, on the one hand, that the 
 testimony of tiie apostles was credible, and on the 
 other, that tiiis was the substance of it, have reason 
 also to admit this grand inference from it, and to 
 embrace the gospel as a faithful saying, and as well 
 worthy of all acceptation. This is th« thing I was 
 attempting to prove ; and here I should end the ar- 
 gument, were it not for the confirmation it may 
 receive from some additional considerations, which 
 could not properly be introduced under any of the 
 preceding heads. I add therefore, 
 
 7. In the last place, " that the truth of the gospel 
 has received further, and very considerable, confirm- 
 ation, from what has happened in the world since 
 it was first published." 
 
 And here I must desire you more particularly to 
 consider, — on the one hand, what God has been do- 
 ing to establish it, — and on the other, the methods 
 uhich its enemies have been taking to destroy it. 
 
 (i.) Consider, " what God has been doing to 
 confirm the gospel since its first publication ;" and 
 you will find it a further evidence of its divine ori- 
 ginal. 
 
 I might here argue at large, from its surprising 
 propagation in tlie world ; — from the miraculous 
 
 powers, with which not only the apostles, but suc- 
 ceeding preachers of the go.spel, and other converts, 
 were endowed ; — from the accomplishment of pro- 
 phecies re«orded in the New Testament ; — and from 
 the preservation of the Jews as a distinct people, 
 notwithstanding the various diHiculties and perse- 
 cutions through which they have passed. 
 
 I might particularly urge, in confirmation of the 
 truth of Christianity, " the w^onderful success with 
 which it was attended, and the surprising propaga- 
 tion of the gospel in the world." 
 
 I have before endeavoured, under a former head, 
 to show you, that the gospel met with so favourable 
 a reception in the world as evidently proved, that 
 its first publishers were capable of producing such 
 evidence of its truth, as an imposture could not 
 admit. But now I carry the remark further, and 
 assert, that considering the circumstances of the 
 case, it is amazing that even truth itself, under 
 so many disadvantages, should have so illustrious a 
 triumph ; and that its wonderful success does evi- 
 dently argue such an extraordinary interposition 
 of God in its favour, as may justly be called a 
 miraculous attestation to it. 
 
 There was not only one of a family, or two of a 
 city, taken, and brought to Zion ; but so did the 
 Lord hasten it in its appointed time, that " a little 
 one became a thousand, and a small one a strong 
 nation." And as the apostles themselves were 
 honoured with very remarkable success, so this 
 divine seed was propagated so fast in the next age, 
 that Pliny testifies, " he found the heathen temples 
 in Achaia almost deserted and Tertullian after- 
 wards boasts, " That all places but those temples 
 were filled with Christians ; so that, were they only 
 to withdraw, cities and provinces would be depo- 
 pulated. "+ Nor did the gospel only triumph thus 
 within the boundaries of the Roman empire ; for long 
 before Tertullian was born, Justin Martyr, in his 
 dialogue with Trypho the Jew, which seems to have 
 - been written not much above one hundred years after 
 Christ's death, declares, " That there was no nation 
 of men, whether Greeks or barbarians, not except- 
 ing those savages that wandered in clans from one 
 region to another, and had no fixed habitation, who 
 had not learned to offer prayers and thanksgivings 
 to the Father and Maker of all, in the name of 
 Jesus who was crucified." | 
 
 Now how can we account for such a scene as this, 
 but by saying, that the hand of the Lord was with 
 the first preachers of the gospel, and therefore such 
 multitudes believed a;id turned unto the Lord? 
 How had it been possible that so small a fountain 
 should presently have swelled into a mighty river, 
 and even have covered the face of the earth, 
 had it not sprung from the sanctuary of God, and 
 
 • Plin. Epist. X. 07. + Tertiil. AnoIoR. cap. xxxvii. 
 t Jiislin. Mart. pap. .m Edit. Thirlb 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 691 
 
 been rendered thus triumphant by his almighty 
 arm ? 
 
 Had this new religion, so directly contrary to all 
 the prejudices of education, been contrived to soothe 
 men's vices, to assert their errors, to defend their 
 superstitions, or to promote their secular interests, 
 we might easily have accounted for its prevalence 
 in the world. Had its preachers been very profound 
 philosophers, or polite and fashionable orators, 
 many might have been charmed, at least for a while, 
 to follow them : or had the princes and potentates 
 of the earth declared themselves its patrons, and 
 armed their legions for its defence and propagation, 
 multitudes might have been terrified into the pro- 
 fession, though not a soul could by such means have 
 been rationally persuaded to the belief of it. Eut 
 without some such advantages as these, we can 
 hardly conceive how any new religion should so 
 strangely prevail ; even though it had crept into 
 the world in its darkest ages and most barbarous 
 countries ; and though it had been gradually pro- 
 posed in the most artful manner, with the finest veil 
 I industriously drawn over every part which might at 
 first have given disgust to the beholder. 
 
 But you well know that the very reverse of all 
 this was the case here. You know, from the ap- 
 parent constitution of Christianity, tliat the lusts 
 and errors, the superstitions and interests, of carnal 
 men, would immediately rise up against it as a most 
 irreconcilable enemy. You know, that the learn- 
 ing and wit of the Greeks and the Romans were 
 early employed to overbear and ridicule it. You 
 know that, as all the herd of heathen deities were to 
 be discarded, the priests, who subsisted on that 
 craft, must in interest find themselves obliged to 
 oppose it. You know, that the princes of the earth 
 drew the sword against it, and armed torments and 
 death for the destruction of its followers. And yet 
 you see that it triumphed over all, though pub- 
 lished in ages and places of the greatest learning 
 and refinement ; and proposed, not in an ornamen- 
 tal and artificial manner, but with the utmost 
 plainness ; the doctrines of the cross being always 
 avowed as its grand fundamentals, though so noto- 
 rious a stumbling-block both to Jews and Gentiles; 
 and the absolute necessity, not only of embracing 
 Christianity,but also of renouncing all idol-worship, 
 being insisted on immediately, and in the strongest 
 terms, thougii it must make the gospel appear the 
 mo.st singular and unsociable religion that had ever 
 been taught in the world. 
 
 Had one of the wits or politicians .of these ages 
 seen the apostles, and a few other plain men, who 
 had been educated amongst tiie lowest of the 
 people, as most of the first teachers of Christianity 
 were, going out armed with nothing but faith, 
 truth, and goodness, to encounter the power of 
 princes, the bigotry of priests, the learning of 
 2 Y 2 
 
 philosophers, the rage of tlie populace, and the 
 prejudices of all ; how would he have derided the 
 attempt, and have said with Sanballat, What will 
 these feeble Jews do? But had he seen the event, 
 surely he must have owned, with the Egyptian Magi, 
 in a far less illustrious miracle, that it was the 
 finger of God ; and might justly have fallen on his 
 face, even amongst those whom he had insulted, 
 with a humble acknowledgment that God was in 
 them of a truth. 
 
 I might here further urge " those miracles, which 
 were wrought in confirmation of the Christian doc- 
 trine, for a considerable time after the death of the 
 apostle;." 
 
 The most signal and best attested of these, was 
 tlie dispossession of devils ; whom God seems to 
 have permitted to rage with an unusual violence 
 about those times, that his Son's triumph over them 
 mi gilt be so much the more remarkable, and that 
 the old serpent might be taken in his own craftiness. 
 I doubt not but many of you have heard, that more 
 than two hundred years after the death of Christ, 
 some of the most celebrated defenders of the gospel, 
 which the church has in any age produced,- — I mean 
 Tertullian,* and INIinutius Felix, f — do not only 
 challenge any of their heathen enemies and perse- 
 cutors, to bring them a demoniac, engaging, at the 
 hazard of their lives, to oblige the evil spirit, in his 
 name, and by the authority of Christ, to quit his 
 possession ; but do also appeal to it, as a fact pub- 
 licly known, that those who were agitated by such 
 spirits, stood terrified, and amazed, in the presence 
 of a Christian, and that their pretended gods were 
 compelled then to confess themselves devils. 
 
 I wave the testimony of some later writers of the 
 Christian church, lest the credulity of their temper, 
 joined with the circumstances attending some of 
 the facis they record, should furnish out objections 
 against their testimony ; though I think we cannot, 
 without great injustice to the character of the 
 learned and pious Augustin, suspect the truth of 
 some amazing facts of this kind, which he has 
 attested as of his own personal and certain know- 
 ledge, t 
 
 Nor must I, on this occasion, forget to mention 
 "the accomplishment of several prophecies recorded 
 in the New Testament," as a further confirmation 
 given by God to the gospel. 
 
 The most eminent and signal instance under this 
 head, is that of our Lord's prediction concerning 
 the destruction of Jerusalem, as it is recorded by 
 St. Matthew, in his twenty-fourth chapter. The 
 tragical history of it is most circumstantially de- 
 scribed by Josephus, a Jewish priest, who was an 
 eye-witness of it ; and the description he has given 
 of this sad calamity, so exactly corresponds to the 
 
 * Tertul. Apolog. cap. xxii. + Miniit. Fel. c.ip. xxvii. 
 
 t Augustin. de Civit. Dei, Lib. xxii. rap. R. 
 
682 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 prophecy, dial one woiiM Ii.tvc tlionglit, liad we 
 not known llio contrary, tliat it had been written by 
 a Cliristian on purpose to illustrate it: [And one 
 can never enough admire that series of amazing 
 providences, by which the author was preserved 
 from most imminent danger, that he might leave us 
 that invaluable treasure which his writings eon- 
 tain.* 
 
 We have no need of any further evidence, than 
 we find in him, of the exactcst accomplishment of 
 what was prophesied concerning the destruction of 
 Jerusalem : but our Lord had also foretold the long 
 continued desolation of their temple ; and I cannot 
 forbear reminding you of the awful sanctioii which 
 was given to that part of the prediction : for it is 
 well known, that a heathen historian lias assured 
 us, that when .Julian the apostate, in deliberate 
 <"ontempt of that prediction, solemnly and resolutely 
 undertook to rebuild it, his impious design was 
 miraculously frustrated again and again, and the 
 workmen consumed by globes of fire, which broke 
 out continually from the foundations. t] 
 
 The prediction of St. Paul concerning the man of 
 sin, and the apostasy of the latter times, is also well 
 worthy of our remark. And tb.iugh a great deal of 
 the book of Revelation be still concealed under a 
 dark veil ; yet the division of the Roman empire 
 into ten kingdoms, the usurpation, perscciition, and 
 idolatry of the Romish church, and the long dura- 
 tion of the papal power, with several other extraor- 
 dinary events, which no human prudence could 
 liave foreseen, and which have happened long since 
 the publication of that book, are so clearly foretold 
 there, that I cannot but look on that part of Scrip- 
 ture as an invaluable treasure ; and think it not at 
 all improbable, that the more visible accomplish- 
 ment of some of its other prophecies may be a great 
 means of reviving tlie Christian cause, which is at 
 present so much on the decline. 
 
 " The preservation of the .Tews as a distinct peo- 
 ple," is another particular under this head, which 
 well deserves our attentive regard. 
 
 It is plain they are vastly numerous, notwith- 
 standing all the slaughter and destruction of this 
 people, in former and in later ages. They are 
 dispersed in various most distant nations, and 
 particularly in those parts of the world where 
 Christianity is professed : and though they are ex- 
 posed to great hatred and contempt, on account of 
 their different faith, and in most places subjected to 
 civil incapacities, if not to unchristian severities ; 
 
 * .foseph. Bell. Jiid. l ib, iii. rap. 8. 
 
 + [Cum itaque fortiiir rci iiistaict Alypiiis, jiivarttquc proviiiciw 
 rector, nic tiicndi f^lohi flaminarun), prope fiitidanieiita crcbris assulti. 
 bus eruinperitfs, fecere lorum, txiislis aliquoties operatitibiis, in- 
 accessiim ; liocqiie modo, flemeiito <lestinatius reiiellente, ci-ssarit 
 inccptiim. Ammian. IMarrell l.ib xxiii. sub iriit. I lliink one might 
 arffue tlie author to have beeu a lieathrn, from this cold way of tt'llin^^ 
 a story, so glorious to Christianity: " 'I'be clement repelling; them by 
 a kinu of obstinate fatality." Tfie leaincd reader will easily observe, 
 with how diflereut an air Socrates (Hist. I.ib. iii. can. 20.) an(f Sozoinen 
 (Hist. Lib V. cap. .'i2 ) recount, and most reasonably' trinniph in it ] 
 
 yet they arc still most obstinately tenacious of their 
 religion : which is the more wonderful its their 
 fathers were so prone to apostatize from it ; and as 
 most of them seem to be utter strangers either to 
 piety or humanity, and pour the greatest contempt 
 on the moral precepts of their own law, while they 
 are so attached to the ceremonial institutions of it, 
 troublesome and inconvenient as they are. Now 
 seriously rellect, what an evident hand of Provi- 
 dence is here ; that by their dispersion, preserva- 
 tion, and adherence to their religion, it should come 
 to pass, that Christians should daily see the accom- 
 plishment of many remarkable prophecies concern- 
 ing this people ;| and that we should always have 
 amongst us such a crowd of unexceptionable wit- 
 nesses to the truth of those ancient Hebrew records, 
 on which so much of the evidence of the gospel 
 depends : records, whicli are many of them so full to 
 the purpose for which we allege them, that (as a 
 celebrated writer very well observes "had the 
 whole body of the Jewish nation been converted to 
 Christianity, men would certainly have thought 
 they had been forged by Christians, and have 
 looked upon them, with the prophecies of the sybils, 
 as made many years after the events they pretend 
 to foretell." And to add no more here, the pre- 
 servation of the Jews as a distinct people, evidently 
 leaves room for the accomplishment of those Old 
 and New-Testament promises, which relate to their 
 national conversion and restoration ; whereas that 
 would be impossible in itself, or at least be im- 
 possible to be known, if they were promiscuously 
 blended with other people. On the whole, it is such 
 a scene in the conduct of Providence, as I am well 
 assured cannot be paralleled in the b.istory of any 
 other nation on earth, and affords a most obvious 
 and important argument in favour of the gospel. 
 
 Thus has Christianity been further confirmed, 
 since its first publication, by what God has done to 
 establish it. It only remains that wc consider, 
 
 (2.) What confirmation it receives, " from the 
 methods which its enemies have taken to destroy it." 
 
 And these have generally been, either persecu- 
 tion, or falsehood, or cavilling at some particulars 
 in the revelation, without entering into the grand 
 argument on which it is built, and fairly debating 
 what is offered in its defence. Now who would not 
 think the better of a cause, for being thus attacked? 
 
 At first you know, that the professors, and espe- 
 cially the preachers of the gospel, were severely 
 persecuted. In every city bonds and imprisonments 
 awaited them. As soon as ever the apostles began 
 to preach Jesus and his resurrection, the Jewish 
 rulers laid hold on them, and having confined and 
 scourged them, strictly prohibited their speaking 
 
 ♦ This important thousht is most excellently illustrated in that 
 incomparable old book of Dr. Jackson s, called, " The Eternal Truth 
 of the Scriptures," Sec. especially book I. part I. ? 3. chap. 10—1.1. I he 
 whole of the section is very cnrWjus. 
 
 5 Spcctat. vol. vii. No. 495. 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 G93 
 
 any more in that name. A little while after, 
 Stephen was murdered ; and afterwards Jamea, 
 and some other of the apostles. Now certainly 
 such a conduct did evidently show a consciousness, 
 that they were not able to answer the apostles, and 
 to support their own cause by the fair methods of 
 reason and argument ; to which, so far as the his- 
 tory informs us, they made no pretence ; but at- 
 tempted to bear them down by dint of authority, 
 and to silence them by brutal force. 
 
 The time would fail me, should I attempt par- 
 ticularly to show, how these unrighteous methods 
 were pursued in succeeding ages, and distant 
 countries. The savage cruelties of Nero to these 
 innocent and holy men were such, as raised the 
 pity even of their enemies ;* yet this was one of 
 the least extensive and destructive of the ten gene- 
 ral persecutions, which arose in the Roman empire, 
 besides several others in the neighbouring countries, 
 of which ecclesiastical history informs us. 
 
 These early enemies of the gospel added false- 
 hood and slander to their inhumanities. They 
 endeavoured to murder the reputation of Christians, 
 as well as their persons, and were not ashamed to 
 represent them as haters of the v.iiole human spe- 
 cies,! for no imaginable reason, but because they 
 would not associate themselves in their idolatrous 
 worship, but with regard to charity and truth, were 
 strongly bearing their testimony against it : I nay, 
 they charged them with human sacrifices, incest, 
 idolatry, and all the crimes, for which themselves 
 and their foolish gods were indeed justly detest- 
 able ; but from which the Christians knew how to 
 vindicate themselves, highly to their own honour, 
 and to the everlasting reproach of these malignant 
 and pestilent accusers : and they have not failed to 
 do it in many noble apologies, which through the 
 divine providence are transmitted to us, and are 
 incomparably the most valuable of any ancient un- 
 inspired writings. 
 
 Such were the infamous and scanda'ous methods, 
 by which the gospel was opposed in the earliest 
 ages of the church ; and I cannot forbear adding, 
 " that the measures more lately taken to subvert it, 
 especially amongst ourselves, seem to me rather to 
 reflect a glory upon it." Its unhappy enemies have 
 been told again and again, that we put the proof of 
 it on plain fact. They themselves do not and can- 
 not deny, that it prevailed early in the world, as we 
 have shown at large. There must have been some 
 man, or body of men, who first introduced it : they 
 
 • This a lianjrhty and cruel enemy confesses, even while lio lilas. 
 pliemes the religion of these (;l"ri')Us confessors -Ciiiamcinam ailn rsiis 
 imntes, et novissima exempla meritos, miseratio oriebatur 'I'acit 
 Annal. [.ib. xv. i 44. 
 
 + Odio humaiu generis convicti sunt. Tacit, nbi snpra. 
 
 t Tliis matter is set in the clearest and most beaiitifnl ii^ht by the 
 sagacious Mr. Warburtoii, in his " Divine I.PKation of Mcses,"' (vol. i 
 pae. 2')2— 2M.) to whose labours the learned and Christian world are 
 indebted beyond expression, for as great a number of original thou"hts 
 a»are perhaps any where to be found in an equal compass. ° 
 
 generally confess, that Christ and his apostles were 
 the persons : and these apostles (on whose testi- 
 mony what we know of Christ chiefly depends) 
 must have been enthusiasts, or impostors, if their 
 testimony was false. Now which of these schemes 
 will the unbeliever take ? It seems, that the deists 
 of the present age fix on either, as being secretly 
 conscious they can support neither ; but they con- 
 tent themselves with cavilling at some circumstances 
 attending the revelation, without daring to encoun- 
 ter its grand evidence, i. e. they have been labori- 
 ously attempting to prove it " to be improbable, or 
 absurd, to suppose that to have been, which never- 
 theless plainly appears to have been, fact." One 
 most weakly and sophistieally pretends to prove, in 
 defiance of the common sense of mankind, that the 
 light of nature is a perfect rule, and therefore that 
 all revelation is needless, and indeed impossible. 
 Another disguises the miracles of Christ by false 
 and foolish representations of them, and then sets 
 himself to ridicule them as idle tales. And a third 
 takes a great deal of fruitless pains to show, that 
 some prophecies referred to in the New Testament 
 are capable of another sense, different from that in 
 which the apostles have taken them. These things 
 have been set in a very artful and fallacious light 
 by persons, whose names will be perhaps transmitted 
 to posterity, with the infamous glory of having been 
 leaders in the cause of infidelity ; but not a man of 
 them undertakes directly to answer, what has been 
 said to ascertain the grand fact. Nay, they gene- 
 rally take no more notice of the positive evidence, 
 by which it is even demonstrated, than if they had 
 never heard it proposed; though they cavil at inci- 
 dental passages in those books, in which it is most 
 clearly stated. And as for what they have urged, 
 though perhaps some, who were before weary of 
 Christianity, may have taken occasion from their 
 writings to reject it ; and others, for want of consult- 
 ing the answers to them, may have been unwarily 
 insnared ; yet the examination of these points has 
 been greatly for the honour and vindication of the 
 truth, which seems on this occasion to have been 
 set in a clearer and stronger light than ever, at least 
 in these latter ages. 
 
 The -cause of Christianity has greatly gained !)y 
 debate, and the gospel comes like fine gold out of 
 the furnace, which the more it is tried, tiie more if 
 is approved. I own, the defenders of the gospel 
 have appeared with very diflerent degrees of ability 
 for the work ; nor could it l)e otherwise amongst 
 such nuntbers of them : but on the whole, though 
 the patrons of infidelity have been masters of some 
 wit, humour, and address, as well as of a moderate 
 share of learning, and generally much more than a 
 moderate share of assurance ; yet so great is the 
 force of truth, that (unless we may except those 
 writers who have unhappily called for the aid of 
 
6J4 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 the t ivil in;(};istrat(^ in <hc conlrovcrsy) I cannot 
 recollect, that 1 have seen any (lefence of the gospel, 
 wbicli has not, on the whole, been suflicicnt to 
 establish it, notwithstanding all the sophistical 
 arguments Of its most subtle antagonists. 
 
 [This is an observation, which is continually 
 gaining new strength, as new assaults arc made 
 upon the gospel. And I cannot foibear saying, 
 that as if it were by a kind of judicial infatuation, 
 some wlio have distinguished tliemselves in the 
 wretched cause of inlidclity, have been permitted 
 to fall into such gross misrepresentations, such 
 senseless inconsistencies, and such palpable false- 
 hoods,* and in a word, into such a various and 
 malignant superfluity of naughtiness ; that to a 
 wise and pious mind tlicy must appear like those 
 venomous creatures, which are said to carry an 
 antidote in their bowels against their own poison. 
 A virtuous and well-bred deist must turn away 
 from some modern pieces of this kind with scorn 
 and abhorrence ; and a Chri.stian might almost be 
 tempted to wish, that the books, with all their 
 scandals about them, might be transmitted to pos- 
 terity, lest when they conic to live, like the writings 
 of .some of the ancient heathens, only in those of 
 their learned and pious answerers, it should hardly 
 be credited, that ever the enemies of the gospel in 
 such an enlightened age should be capable of so 
 much impiety and folly.] 
 
 Thus I have given you a brief view of the chief 
 arguments in proof of Christianity ; and the sum of 
 the whole is this : 
 
 The gospel is probable in theory ; as considering 
 the nature of God, and the circumstances of man- 
 kind, there was reason to hope a revelation might 
 be given ; and if any were given, we should natu- 
 rally apprehend its internal evidence would be 
 such as that of the gospel is, and its external, such 
 as it is said to be. But it is also true in fact ; for 
 Christianity was early professed, as it was first in- 
 troduced by Jesus of Nazareth, whose life and doc- 
 trines were published by his immediate attendants ; 
 whose books are preserved still in their original 
 language, and in the main are faithfully translated 
 into our own : so that the books of the New Testa- 
 ment now in your hands may be depended upon, as 
 written by the persons whose names they bear. 
 And admitting this, the truth of the gospel follows 
 by a train of very easy consequences ; for the au- 
 thors certainly knew the truth of the facts they 
 relate ; and considering what appears of their cha- 
 racter and circumstances, we can never believe they 
 would have attempted to deceive us ; or if they 
 had, they could not have gained credit in the 
 world ; yet they did gain it in a remarkable man- 
 
 ♦ [I meiitioo not licre tliat mean ljuffooiiery and scurrility, tliat in- 
 ihistrious, though awkwarJ. dissiiist, and monstrous mixture of llie 
 sceptic and dojjmalist, wliicli the learned and in;;enious Mr. VVarburlon 
 has animadverted upon with sueli justice and spirit, in his fine Dedi- 
 cation to the Divine Legation of Moses demonstrated ] 
 
 ner ; therefore the facts they attested arc true : and 
 the truth of the gospel evidently follows from the 
 certainty of those facts, and is much conlirmed by 
 what has happened in the world since the lirst pub- 
 lication of it. 
 
 I shall conclude what I have to say on this subject, 
 with a few words by way of reileetion. 
 
 1. Let us gratefully acknowledge the divine 
 goodness, in favouring us with so excellent a reve- 
 lation, and confirming it to us by such ample 
 evidence. 
 
 We should be daily adoring the God of nature, 
 for lighting up the sun, that glorious, though im- 
 perfect, image of his own unapproachable lustre ; 
 and appointing it to gild the earth with its various 
 rays, to cheer us witli its benign inlluences, and to 
 guide and direct us in our journeys and our labours. 
 But how incomparably more valuable is that Day- 
 spring from on high which has visited us, that Sun 
 of righteousness which is risen upon us, to give 
 light to them that sit in darkness, and in the sha- 
 dow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of 
 peace ! O Christians, (for I now address myself to 
 you, whose eyes are so happy as indeed to see, and 
 your ears as to hear,) what reason have you for daily 
 and hourly praise ! Wlien your minds arc delighted 
 with contemplating the riches of gospel grace, when 
 you view with wonder and joy the harmonious con- 
 trivance of our redemption, when you feel the bur- 
 then of your guilt removed, the freedom of your 
 address to the throne of grace encouraged, and see 
 the prospect of a fair inheritance of eternal glory 
 opening upon you ; then, in the pleasing transport 
 of your souls, borrow the joyful anthem of the 
 Psalmist, and say, with the humblest gratitude and 
 self-resignation ; God is the Lord, who hath given 
 us light ; bind the sacrifice with cords, even to the 
 horns of the altar. Adore God, wlio first commanded 
 the light to shine out of darkness, that by the dis- 
 coveries of his word, and the operations of his 
 Spirit, he has shined in your hearts, to give you the 
 knowledge of his glory, as reflected from the face 
 of his Son. Let us all adore him, that this revela- 
 tion hath reached us, who live in an age and coun- 
 try so distant from that in which it first appeared ; 
 while there are to this day, not only dark corners, 
 but regions of the earth, which are full of the habi- 
 tations of idolatry and cruelty. 
 
 Let mc here peculiarly address myself to those, 
 whose education and circumstances of life have 
 given them opportunities of a fuller inquiry into 
 the state of those ancient or modern nations, that 
 have been left merely to the light of unassisted rea- 
 son ; even to you. Sirs, who are acquainted with the 
 history of their gods, the rites of their priests, the 
 talcs, and even the hymns, of their poets ; (those 
 beautiful trifles ;) nay, I will add, the reasonings of 
 their sagest philosophers, all the precarious and 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 600 
 
 all the erroneous things they have said, where re- 
 ligion and immortality are concerned.* I have 
 sometimes thought, that God gave to some of the 
 most celebrated pagan writers that uncommon share 
 of genius and eloquence, that they might, as it 
 were, by their art embalm the monsters of anti- 
 quity ; that so succeeding ages might see, in a more 
 affecting view than we could otherwise have done, 
 how weak the human mind is in its best estate, and 
 the need which the greatest as well as the meanest 
 of mankind have, of being taught by a revelation 
 from above. Permit me to remind you, that while 
 you are daily conversing with such monuments as 
 these, (as I know some of you are,) and are also 
 surveying the evidences of Christianity in a larger 
 and more distinct view than it was proper for me 
 here to propose them, you are under peculiar obli- 
 gations to be very thankful for the gospel yourselves, 
 as well as to compassionate the case of those to 
 whom it has never been offered, or by whom it is 
 slighted. And this leads me to another reflection ; 
 
 2. What reason have we to pity those, who reject 
 this glorious gospel, even when they have oppor- 
 tunities of inquiring into its clearest evidences ! 
 
 Such undoubtedly there are in our own age and 
 nation ; and surely we should sometimes bestow a 
 compassionate thought upon them, and lift up a 
 humble prayer for them; if God peradventure will 
 give them repentance to the acknowledging of the 
 truth ; that they may recover themselves out of the 
 snare of the devil, who are now led captive by him 
 at his pleasure. We should pity heathens and 
 Mahometans, under their darkness and errors : but 
 how much more deplorable is the case of those, 
 who, though they dwell in Emanuel's land, and 
 in the valley of vision, turn it into the valley of the 
 shadow of death, by closing their eyes against so 
 bright a lustre, and stopping their ears against the 
 voice of the charmer ? They are indeed in their own 
 conceit the only people, and wisdom will die with 
 them ; so that, to be sure, they will scorn our pity : 
 but who can forbear it ? Is there a more melancholy 
 thought than this, that the Son of God should have 
 done so much to introduce and establish the gospel, 
 and his Spirit so much to perpetuate and increase its 
 evidence, and that after all, it should be contemptu- 
 ously despised, even by creatures who are perish- 
 ing without it? That the blessed Jesus, instead of 
 being received with open arms as the great de- 
 liverer, should eitiier be treated as an empty name ; 
 
 * The great author I mentioned licfore (paff. 693. note t) has shown 
 in a most convincin;; manner, that the whole body of the Greek philo 
 sophers disl)elieve(l the doctrine of future rewards and puiiisliments, 
 thoUKli tliey popularly tau^lit it, as necessary to society; and luhl no 
 I other immortality of the soul, than what was the result of a most athe- 
 istical notion, (mbdernly known hy the name of Spinozisni,) that the 
 universe was God. (Sec Mr. Warburton's Divine I.e^'ation of Moses, 
 i book iii. sect. 2, 3, 4 ) Which surely is one of the strongest proofs of 
 I the need of a revelation, that the world ever saw, .ind the most atfectinc 
 ' comment on the words <if llic learned apostle, 1 Cor. i. 21. The world 
 by wisdom knew not (Joil ; but professinp- themselves to be wise, lliey 
 became fool", Rom. i. 22. 
 
 or if acknowledged to be a real person, should then 
 be represented as a visionary enthusiast, or a wicked 
 impostor ; for there is no other alternative ? And 
 this, not only (though I believe most frequently) 
 by men of profligate and abandoned lives, but 
 sometimes by persons of external morality and 
 decenc}', of great humanity and sweetness of tem- 
 per, (for such I know are to be found amongst 
 them,) as well as men of wit and genius, of polite- 
 ness and learning, of human prudence and expe- 
 rience in affairs. I may also add, that it is the case 
 of some, who were the children of pious parents, 
 who were trained up in religious exercises, who 
 once discovered serious impressions, and gave very 
 encouraging hopes. Alas, whither have they fallen ? 
 and whither have we reason to fear, they will at 
 length fall .' How shall we shelter those, that were 
 once our brethren, that arc perhaps still our friends, 
 from the awful sentence, which the gospel de- 
 nounces against all that reject it without any ex- 
 ception ? As to the wretches, that add insult and 
 derision to their infidelity, I tremble to think of 
 that load of guilt which they are bringing on them- 
 selves, and how near they approach to the unpar- 
 donable sin, if they have not already committed it. 
 For the rest, who behave in a more modest and de- 
 cent manneiv it will no doubt be a very diflicult 
 task to convince them ; and so much the rather, as 
 some of them, by too easy a transition, have re- 
 nounced many of the most important principles of 
 natural religion, nay, I might add, even the whole 
 of it, together « ith the Christian revelation. But 
 the influences of divine grace are almighty; let us 
 recommend them to these, and omit no other proper 
 method, cither of recovering tiiose who are already 
 seduced, or at least of securing those who are not 
 yet infected, but may be (as most of the youth 
 are, especially in the most populous places) in 
 imminent danger of the contagion. To this end let 
 me add, 
 
 ,3. How reasonable is it tliat Christians should 
 form a familiar acquaintance with the great evi- 
 dences of our common faith ! 
 
 It is what we so apparently owe to the honour of 
 God, to the interest of Christ, to the peace of our 
 own souls, and the edification of others, that I hope 
 I need not urge it at large ; especially considering 
 what was said in the introduction to these dis- 
 courses. In consequence of all, let it be your care 
 to make the evidences of Christianify the subject 
 of your serious reflections, and of your frequent 
 converse: especially, study your Bibles, where 
 there arc such marks of truth and divinity to be 
 found, that I believe, few that have familiarly 
 known them, and have had a relish for them, were 
 ever brought to make shipwreck of the faith as it is 
 in Jesus. Above all, let it be your care to act on 
 the rules which arc there laid down; and then you 
 
cm 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 w ill find your faith nrowins? in a liajipy proportion, 
 and will experience the truth of our Saviour's de- 
 claration, tiiat if any man will resolutely and faith- 
 fully do his will, he shall know of the Christian 
 doctrine whether it be of God. I verily believe, it 
 is the purity of its precepts which lies at the bottom 
 of most men's opposition to it; or a natural pride 
 of heart, wliich gives them an aversion to so hum- 
 bling^ a sclieme ; or a fond affectation of seeming 
 wiser than others, in rejecting what most of their 
 neighbours do at least profess to believe. When 
 these unhappy prejudices and conceptions are by 
 divine grace conquered and rooted out, the evi- 
 dences of truth will daily appear with an increasing 
 lustre ; as the light of the sun does to an eye re- 
 covering from a film with wliich it had been over- 
 grown, and which before had veiled it with the 
 darkness of midnight in the midst of noon. Once 
 more, 
 
 4. How solicitous should we be to embrace and 
 obey that gospel, which comes attended with such 
 abundant evidences ! 
 
 I may undoubtedly address myself to most of you, 
 my friends, and say, as Paul did to king Agrippa, 
 Believest thou the prophets, and I may add, tlie 
 evangelists and the apostles? Yes, I know that you 
 believe them ; yet let me entreat and charge you 
 not to rest here, but attentively to examine, how 
 far your hearts are affected, and your lives regulated, 
 by such a belief. The Christian revelation is a 
 practical thing, and it is heard, it is believed, it is 
 professed, and even defended, in vain, if it l)e not 
 obeyed. Therefore do we so frequently read of 
 obeying the truth, and obeying the gospel, as a 
 matter of so great importance. 
 
 In this gospel, the wrath of God is revealed from 
 heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness 
 of men ; but it is revealed with redoubled terror 
 against that audacious sinner who holds the truth 
 in unrighteousness. In this gospel, the Lord Jesus 
 Christ is exalted both a Prince and a Saviour ; and 
 it is not with impunity that the impenitent rebel 
 can reject his yoke, and trample on his blood : for 
 if he that despised Moses's law died without mer- 
 cy, of how much sorer punishment than even a 
 capital execution, must they be thought worthy, 
 •who have poured contempt on such a Sovereign, 
 and on such a Redeemer ? 
 
 O let it be most seriously and frequently recol- 
 
 lected, that this gospel is the touchstone by which 
 you arc another day to be tried ; the balance in 
 which an impartial judge will weigh you ; and must 
 on the whole prove your everlasting triumph, or 
 your everlasting torment. The blessed God did not 
 introduRC it with such solemn notice, such high ex- 
 pectations, such pompous miracles, such awful 
 sanctions, that men might reject or dislionour it at 
 pleasure; but it will certainly be found, to the 
 greatest and the meanest of those that hear it, a 
 savour of life unto life, or a savour of death unto 
 death. 
 
 Let it therefore be your immediate care to inquire, 
 which of these it is like to prove to your souls ; 
 since it is so far from being a vain thing, that it is 
 your very life. If it has hitherto been despised, 
 and that blessed Redeemer, in whom it so appa- 
 rently centres, has been neglected ; remember, that 
 all which has been said in confirmation of its truth, 
 does but in effect prove, that the hand-writing of 
 God himself is set to the sentence of your eternal 
 condemnation. Oh therefore allow not yourselves a 
 moment's rest, until you have with humble sub- 
 mission applied to his throne, while yet there is hope 
 that it may be reversed. 
 
 And as for you, my brethren, who have received 
 Christ Jesus the Lord, be exhorted to walk in him; 
 since it is the design of his gospel to teach us to 
 deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live 
 soberly, righteously, and godly ; and this not only 
 as you have so comfortable an assurance, that your 
 labour shall not be in vain in the Lord, but as it 
 will be, on the whole, the most effectual method 
 you can take in your respective stations to promote 
 the gospel. If you indeed honour it and love it, 
 and desire it may be propagated in the world, let it 
 be your care, not only to defend it by your tongues, 
 but to adorn it by your lives : and, in the words of 
 that great champion in this sacred cause, be blame- 
 less and harmless, the children of God without 
 rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse 
 generation, shining amongst them as lights in tlie 
 world, and so holding forth the word of life ; and 
 perhaps it may serve, not only to entertain their 
 eyes with wonder and glory, but to guide their feet 
 into the way of peace, and may engage them also 
 to join with you in glorifying your Father which is 
 in heaven. Amen ! 
 
SERMONS 
 
 ON REGENERATION. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 It is undoubtedly the duty of every wise and good man, to be forming schemes for the service of God 
 and his fellow-creatures in future years, if he be continued to them ; and it w ill be his prudence to do it 
 early in life, that he may be gradually preparing to execute them in the most advantageous manner he 
 can. But while a man's heart is thus devising his way, the Lord directeth his steps. And as many such 
 schemes will probably be left unfinished at death, which will quickly come to break off our purposes and 
 the thoughts of our hearts ; so it is not improbable, that they who humbly and obediently follow the lead- 
 ings of divine providence and grace, may often find themselves called out on a sudden to services which, 
 but a little before, were quite unthought of by them. 
 
 This has been the case with me in most of the Sermons I have published, of which very few were com- 
 posed with any view to the press; and it is most remarkably so with respect to these on Regeneration. 
 Besides many other excellent persons, my much honoured friend Dr. Wright has handled the subject in 
 so judicious and lively a manner, and through the great goodness of God to us, so many thousands of his 
 treatise upon It are dispersed in all parts of our land, that I could hardly have believed any one who had 
 told me I should thus have resumed it ; nor had I the least intention of doing it, when I began that 
 course of Lectures which I now offer to my reader's perusal. 
 
 I did indeed think it necessary last year to treat the subject more largely than I had ever done before, 
 knowing in the general how important it is, and observing that several controversies had about that time 
 been raised concerning it, which (though I do not judge it necessary to mention the particulars of them) 
 I was ready to fear might have had an ill influence to unsettle men's minds, and either to lead them into 
 some particular errors, or into a general apprehension that it was a mere point of speculation, about which 
 it was not necessary to form any judgment at all.* 
 
 That these Discourses might be more generally useful, I determined to preach them on Lord's-day 
 evenings, that those of my neighbours who were not my stated hearers might, if they thought proper, 
 have an opportunity of attending them : and accordingly they were attended to the last with uncommon 
 diligence ; a great many such persons, of diflferent persuasions and communions, nuiking up a part of the 
 auditory. As practical instruction and improvement was the main thing I had in view, \ knew it was 
 necessary to make my Discourses as plain, as free, and as serious as I could. But before I had finished 
 near half of my scheme, several of my hearers earnestly requested that the Sermons might he published : 
 and the request grew more extensive and importunate every week, with this additional circumstance, 
 (which I much regarded,) that some very pious and judicious friends at a distance, being providentially 
 brought to the hearing of some of these Lectures, strongly concurred in the desire ; expressing a very 
 cheerful hope, that the reading of what they had heard might be useful in distant parts of the land, to 
 which they assured me they would endeavour to spread them as opportunity might oll'cr. As the advice 
 of several of my brethren in the ministry was joined with all this, I thought myself bound in duty at 
 length to comply ; which I was the rather encouraged to do, from the several instances in which f had 
 reason to believe the divine blessing had in some measure attended these Sermons from the pulpit, and 
 had made them the means of producing and advancing the change they described and enforced. 
 
 On these considerations, as soon as I returned from that long journey, in whicli' I set out the day after 
 these Lectures were concluded, I applied myself to recollect the substance of them as well as I could, 
 from the short hints I had written of them, with the assistance of those notes which some of my friends 
 had taken after me in characters. Some things are perhaps omitted, though I believe but very few ; 
 some contracted, and some enlarged ; but my hearers will find them in the main what they heard. It 
 cost me more labour than I was aware, from such materials, to reduce tliem into their present form ; 
 and I hope the multitude of my other business will be allowed as an apology, if I proceeded in them 
 slower than some might expect. 
 
 I shall leave it to my reader to observe for himself the manner and method in which I have handled my 
 subject, without giving him a particular view of it here ; only must beg leave to tell him in the general, 
 that I hope he will find I have not presumed so far on the sublimity of my subject, as to talk without 
 
 * Sec Mr. Hcbdcn's Appendix to liis late Discourse or, Rcj,'cneration. 
 
098 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 determinate ideas ; for wliieh reason I liavc omitted many phrases, used partieularly of late by some 
 pious and w orthy persons, because I freely own, that as I cannot lind tlieni in niy Bible, so neitlicr can I 
 understand their exact meaning' ; and it seems very improjjer to embarrass such plain Discourses as 
 these with a lanijua{?c, which, not being; thoroughly master of, I may chance to misapply, supposing those 
 phrases to be really more proper than 1 can at present appreiiend they arc. I have endeavoured to keep 
 to one idea of regeneration, whicii I fake to be that whicli tiic Scripture suggests: by regeneration I 
 mean " a prevailing disjjosition of the soul to universal holiness, produced and cherished by tlie inllu- 
 ences of Uod's Sjiirit on our hearts, operating in a manner suitable to the constitution of our nature, as 
 rational and aeeountable creatures." If this be (as I think I have proved at large that it is) the Scriptural 
 notion of it, it will follow, that nothing which may be found where this is not, or which may not be found 
 where this is, can be regeneration in tiie Scripture sense, which is that sense in which we are much 
 more concerned than we are in that to which any human writers, whether ancient or modern, may think 
 proper to apply it. 
 
 If the doctrine which I have endeavoured, in the whole course of these Sermons, to confirm and illus- 
 trate by the word of God, be in one form or anotiier generally taught by my brethren in the ministry, of 
 whatever denomination, I rejoice in it for tlieir own sakes, as well as for that of the pco])le under their 
 care. I am very little inclined to contend about teciinical phrases of human invention, which have, with 
 equal frailty, been idolized by some and anathematized by others. We shall, 1 hope, learn more and 
 more to bear one another's burthens, and to study the kindest interpretations which the words of each 
 otiier will admit. But I must take the liberty to say, I am in my conscience persuaded that this view of 
 things wlii(rh is here proposed, thougli (icrhaps not very fashionable, is in tlie general so edifying, and so 
 naturally lea<ls to tiie freijuent review of many other important doctrines of Cinistianity, which arc 
 closely connected w itli it, that I am well satislied it will be our wisdom to adhere to it, and to make it 
 very familiar to our own minds, and to those of our hearers. Nor can I imagine that any variety in the 
 idioms of dillerent languages, or the customs of diflerent ages and nations, can be a suflicient reason for 
 bringing Scripture phrases into disuse, while we keep lo the original ideas signified by them. There 
 seems to be a peculiar felicity in them to express divine truth ; and they will undoubtedly be found the 
 safest vehicle of religious knowledge, and the surest bond of union among Christians ; while, however 
 we may difl'er in other matters, we so generally agree in acknowledging that our Bibles contain the 
 oracles of God. 
 
 Let us therefore, who under different denominations are honoured with the ministry of the everlasting 
 gospel, agree, for a while at least, to suspend our debates upon less necessary subjects, that we may, with 
 united efforts, concur in prosecuting that great design for which the gospel was revealed, the Spirit given, 
 and our ofhce instituted. And since it is so evident that irrcligion has grown upon us while we have 
 been attending to other, and to be sure smaller, matters, let us by a plain, serious, and zealous way of 
 preaching the most vital truths of Ciirislianity, joined with a diligent inspection of the souls committed 
 to our care, try what can be done towards preventing the progress of this growing apostasy, and recover- 
 ing the ground we have already lost. Ignorant and prejudiced people may perhaps accuse us of bigotry 
 or enthusiasm ; but let us do our best to convince them of their error, by the candour of our temper, and 
 the prudence of our conduct ; and remember that, as Chrysostom excellently speaks in these lively words, 
 " It is a suflicient consolation for our labours, and far more than an equivalent for all, if we may have a 
 testimony in our consciences, that we compose and regulate our discourses in such a manner as may be 
 approved by God, in whose name we speak." 
 
 Northampton, Nov. 7, 1741. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 To wliat I have said in the conclusion of the first Sermon concerning the proper import of the word 
 Kegeneration, I beg leave to add the following remarks for the further satisfaction of some worthy per- 
 sons, who think it may be convenient to state the matter a little more particularly. 
 
 I acknowledge that many learned and pious divines have taught and contended, that Regeneration 
 does, in the strictest propriety of speech, signify Baptism. So that no unbaptized person, how well dis- 
 posed soever, can properly be said to be regenerated ; whereas that title may justly be given to all who 
 have been baptized, how destitute soever they might have been of Christian faith and holiness when 
 they received the ordinance, or how grossly soever they may since have forfeited the final blessings of a 
 regenerate .state. Dr. Wafcrland has stated this matter at large in his laboured and ingenious treatise 
 on the subject, which is the best [ know on this side of the question. And though this would be a very 
 improper place to enter on a critical examination of that ))i( rc, I will l)rielly touch on the chief argu- 
 ments which he, or others in his sentiments, have urged in vindication of this favourite notion. So far 
 as I can recollect, w hat they say is capable of being reduced to two heads ; — that Christian anticpiity uses 
 the word in this sense ; — and that there arc passages of Scripture which authorize such an application 
 of if. 
 
POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 699 
 
 As to the first of these, I readily own that tlie word has this sense in the generality of the Christian 
 writers, from about the middle of the second century, though I think not so universally as some have 
 concluded :* but I think it easy to account for sucli a use of it among them. For in the earliest ages 
 of the church, persons were generally baptized as soon as they were converted to the cordial belief of 
 Christianity ; and therefore the time of their conversion, and that of their baptism, might naturally 
 enough be spoken of as one : and as this was a period when they did, as it were, come into a new world, 
 it is no wonder that the action by which they testified a change so lately made, should be put for that 
 change itself. Just as illumination also among the ancients signifies baptism : not to intimate that the 
 grand illumination of the mind was made by this rite, or at the time of it ; for that would be supposing 
 the person in darkness when he embraced the gospel, and determined to be baptized, but because it was 
 taken for granted, and that very justly, in those days, that every one savingly enlightened would soon be 
 baptized, that so he might be regularly joined to the society of enlightened or regenerated persons, that 
 is, to the Christian church : which no doubt had the best right of any body of men in the world to that 
 title, though in its purest state it contained some ignorant and wicked members. In a word, a man by 
 baptism solemnly professed himself a Christian ; and as it was generally the first overt-act by which his 
 believing the gospel could be publicly and generally known, and was also supposed to be very near the 
 time of his inward conversion, they dated his regeneration, that is, his happy change, (as that word used 
 to signify, even among the heathen, f) from that time. We own therefore that these ancient Christians 
 (of whom I always think and speak with great respect) had a very good excuse for this method of speak- 
 ing ; but whether they were perfectly accurate in this, and whether they did not recede from the Scrip- 
 ture use of the word, may be matter of further inquiry. 
 
 As to the arguments from Scripture in support of the interpretation I oppose, they are taken partly 
 from particular places ; but chiefly, as I apprehend, from the general tenor of it, in which Christians 
 are spoken of as regenerated. 
 
 The particular texts are, .John iii. d. and Tit. iii. 5. on w hich much of the stress of this controversy is 
 laid ; but on considering them attentively, I find nothing in either of them to lead us to think baptism 
 the regeneration spoken of there. 
 
 As to theformerof them, John iii. 5. when our Lord says, " Except a man be born of water, and of the 
 Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God ;" it is (after all the contempt with which that interpre- 
 tation has been treated) very possible he may mean, by a well-known figure, to express one idea by both 
 those clauses, that is, the purifying infiuences of the Spirit cleansing the mind, as water does the body: 
 as elsewhere, to be baptized with the Holy Ghost and with fire, (Matt. iii. 11.) signifies to be baptized by 
 the Spirit operating like fire. But if there is indeed a reference to baptism in these words, (which I own 
 I am much inclined to believe,) it will by no means follow that baptism is regeneration. On tiiat sii|)- 
 position, I slill think the sense of the passage must be that which I have given in my paraphrase on it, 
 (Fam. Expos, vol. i. p. 148.) " Whosoever would becopie a regular member of the kingdon* of God, must 
 not only be baptized, but as ever he desires to share in its spiritual and eternal blessings, must experi- 
 ence the renewing and sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit on his soul, to cleanse it from the power 
 of corruption, and to animate and quicken it to a spiritual and divin life." It is granted therefore, that 
 how excellent soever any man's character is, he must be baptized before he can be looked upon as com- 
 pletely a member of the church of Christ ; and that, in general, being born of the Spirit, he will also be 
 solicitous that he may be born of water, and so fulfil all righteousness. But it will never follow from hence, 
 that being born of water and born of the Spirit are the same thing. The text rather implies they are diflerent; 
 and I think every^jody must own, they maybe actually separate. Nothing therefore can be more absurd 
 than to infer from this text, that if there be two persons, one of which is born of the Spirit, and not of 
 water ; another of water, and not of the Spirit ; the latter, that is, the wicked man who has perhaps w ith 
 some iniquitous design been baptized, may properly be said to be regenerated, or born of God, and con- 
 sequently to be an heir of God, (Rom. viii. 17.) rather than a truly religious man who has not yet been 
 baptized, either through want of opportunity, or through some unhappy mistake, as to tiie nature and 
 design, or tiie perpetuity and obligations, of that ordinance. Now this I take to be i)reciscly the question, 
 and must declare, that when a baptized person is destitute of true religion, that birth wiiieh he had by 
 water, seems to wie as it were an evanescent thing, or a thing which disappears as unworthy the mention ; 
 and that it must be therefore most safe and advisable, as well as most agreeable to tiie Scripture sense, 
 to appropriate the title of regenerate persons to those sanctified by divine grace, rather than to use it of 
 all who are baptized. 
 
 As to the text in Titus, (chap. iii. .5.) where God is said to save us by the washing of regeneration, or, 
 as some earnestly contend it should be rendered, " by the laver of regeneration :" I might answ-er, that 
 as that interpretation is by no means necessary,], it cannot be proved that baptism is here designed, though 
 
 • Clemens Alexandrinn.o, so often, and to be sure rtasoiialjly, tiuotcil on the other side, plainly uses the word for " a rhanfte of characler by true 
 repentance ; (Strom. Iil>. ii. page 42.5.'') wliere, Kpcakins of " a peiiitiiit harlot," he says, " that ht iiig horn a^ain by conversion, or a change in 
 , her temper and behaviour, she liastlic regeneration of life:" avayetiur^Vcina xaru niv tirf^pcxptiv r» flin TrnXifiivcnuKv rxf ICuinr. 
 i + It is well known that (.'icero cxiiresscs "the happy change" made in his state, when restored from his liaiiishment, by this word. (Cic. ad 
 I Attic, lib. vi. lipist. G.) The Gieeks expressed by it *' the doctrine of the IJrachmans,'" in which they affirmed our entering on a new state of 
 being after death. ((;icm. Alex. Strom, lib. iii. page 4.''>I.) And the Stoics used it to denote their expected renovation of the world after 
 successive confiaj;rations. Marc. Antonin. Medit. lib. xi. \ 1. v. I.'i. x. 7. (See Lucian.oper. pag. 532. Euseb. I*ra.-p. Evanj;. ex numen. lib. xv. 
 cap. 19. Phil. Jud. dc Mundi Inimort, pa;;. 940, and in many other places.) And so the fathers often use it to signify the resurrection 
 which Christians expect. See Euseb. Eccl. Hist. lib. v. cap. 1. in fin. Compare Matt. xix. 28. and the note there Fam. lixjios. Vol. II. 
 p»ge 23S 
 
 } The original is Itia \uTf,a naXifitvtijiixz. Now it is certain, the Seventy use another word, that is Amno, to signify laver, Exnd. xxx. 18, 
 28 ; xxxi. 3. and I think (so far as I have obs^^rved) every where else ; and .\«Tpiiv (St. Paul's word here) is used where it eiinnot signify laver, for 
 the water in whirh sheep are wa.«hed, Cant. iv. 2. and for a large fjuantity of water in wliicli an adult person was Washed or bathed, liph. v. 2(i. 
 And this remark quite overthrows all the argument from this text, if any argument would follow from rendering it laver: but I think I need not 
 urge this. 
 
 I 
 
700 
 
 POSTSCRIPT, 
 
 I ackiiow h'(lj;o llierc may be a p;raccful allusion to it : llic apostle may mean, wc are saved by God's 
 washiiis; our lieaits l)y liis sanetifyiiinj Spirit, (a plirase so often used in tbe Old Testament,) and tlicreby 
 making iis his cliiidren : and in this sense it might have been used, tliouf!;h baptism had never been 
 instituted. lJut jirantinp; (as I have done in the besfinninp; of the seventh Sermon) that Knrpav may be 
 rendered laver, antl that baptism may be the laver referred to ; and that " there is indeed an allusion to 
 the « ashing new-born ehildren ;" (as Mr. INIede in his diatribe on this text contends ;) 1 think Ihis text 
 will be so far from provinsc that St. Paul meant to call baptism regeneration, that it will prove the 
 contrary ; for regeneration itself, and the laver of regeneration, cannot be the same thing : and whatever 
 Tertullian and other ancients may fancifully talk of our being generated like (ishes in the water, in a 
 weak alTusion to the technical word IXBYS, common sense will see how absurd it would be to api)ly this 
 to a child, and will teach us rather to argue, that as children must be !)orn before they can be washed, .so 
 they must be regenerated before the washing of regeneration (that is, the washing which belongs to their 
 new birth) can be applied to them. But on the whole, as w ashing an infant refers to its pollution, and 
 no pollution attends our regeneration as such, I am more and more inclined to think there is no reference 
 at all to a laver, or the washing new-born children ; and therefore, that this washing and the renewing 
 of the Holy Ghost are exegetieal, and that the latter clause might be rendered, even the renewing, &c. 
 which makes the text decisive for the sense in which I use the word. 
 
 After all then, if any argument can be deduced from Scripture in favour of the manner of speaking 
 now in debate, it must be from the general tenor of it ; according to which it seems that all who are 
 mend)crs of the visible church are spoken of as regenerate ; from which it may be inferred, with some 
 plausible probability at least, that baptism, by which they are admitted into that society, may be called 
 Regeneration : and I am ready to believe, as I liinted above, that this was tlie chief reason why the 
 ancients so often used the word in the sen.'-e I am now opposing. 
 
 Now with relatioTi to this, I desire it may be recollected, that when Christianity first appeared in the 
 world, it was attended with such discouragements, as made the very profession of it, in a great measure, 
 a test of nien's characters. The apostlps therefore, knowing the number of hypocrites to be compara- 
 tively very small, generally take no notice of them, but address themselves to whole bodies of Christians, 
 a.s if they were truly what they professed to be. Just as our Lord Jesus Christ, though he knew the 
 wickedness of Judas, often addresses himself to the whole body of his ai)ostlcs, as if they were all his 
 faithful servants, and makes gracious declarations and promises to the whole society, which could by no 
 means be applicable to this one corrupt and wretched member of it ; telling them, for instance, that 
 they should share in his final triumph, and sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel, 
 Matt. xix. 2K. 
 
 This is therefore the true key to all those passages in which Christians are, in the general, said to be 
 adopted, sanctified, justified, &(!. as well as regenerated. The apostles had reason in the judgment of 
 charity, to think thus of by far the greatest part of them ; and therefore they speak to them all, as in 
 such a happy state. And agrecal)ly to this, we find not only such privileges, but also such characters, 
 ascribed to Christians in general, as were only applicable to such of them as were Christians indeed. 
 Thus all the Corinthians are spoken of by the apostle Paul as waiting for the coming of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, (1 Cor. i. 7.) and all the Ephesians, and all the Colossians, as having faith in the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and love to all the saints, (Eph. i. 1.5. Col. i. 4.) and all the Philippians, as having a good work 
 begun in them, which Paul was pcrsuadeil God would perfect, (Phil. i. (i.) and all the Thessalonians, as 
 remarkable for their work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope, (1 Thess. i. 3.) though it 
 evidently apjicars there were persons in several of these eliurehes who l)ehaved much afniss, and to 
 whom, had he been particularly addressing to each of them alone, he could not by any means have used 
 such language. On the like principles Peter, when addressing all the Christians in Pontus, Galatia, 
 Cappadocia, Asia, and IJithynia, sj)eaks of the whole aggregate of them, (1 Pet. i. 8.) as loving an 
 unseen Saviour, and amidst all their tribulations, rejoicing in him w'ith joy unspeakable and full of 
 glory ; though probably there were some weak and dejected Christians among them, and undoubtedly 
 in so large an extent of country, in which there were such a vast number of churches, not a few, who (as 
 our Lord afterwards expresses it of some of them) had only a name to live, while they were dead, (Rev. 
 iii. 1.) in which passage, by the way, our Lord uses the same figure, and describes the whole body by the 
 character of those who made the greater part of it. 
 
 I state the matter thus particularly, because I think this obvious remark is a sufficient answer to what 
 is most peculiar and important in a late Discourse, consisting of near l.'K) quarto pages, and entitled, A 
 Key to the Apostolic Writings, &c. prefixed by the Rev. Mr. Taylor of Norwich to his late Paraphrase 
 and Notes on the Romans. I tliink v. hat I ha\ e briclly advanced here, M ill much more cficctually answer 
 the end of fixing the true sense of the Scripture phrases in (|uestion. And I cannot forbear saying, that 
 to determine the sense of the words, called, redeemed, sanctified, Sec. when applied to the Christian 
 church, by that in which they arc used in Moses and the prophets with respect to the whole people 
 of Israel, seems to me as unreasonable, as it would be to maintain, that the dimensions, the strength, and 
 the beauty of a body are to be most exactly estimated by looking on its shadow. 
 
 Yet on this evidently weak and mistaken principle, the learned and ingenious author referred to above, 
 ventures not only to attempt an entire alteration in the generally-received strain of theological dis- 
 courses, but to throw out a censure, which considering its extent and its severity, nnist either be very 
 terrible, or very pitiable. He not only seems to think, if I understand him right, that we were all re- 
 generated, (if at all,) as well as justified, in those of our parents who were first converted from idolatry to 
 Christianity, (Key, §81, 82, and-2-l(J.) as indeed he expressly says, " that we are born in a justified," and 
 therefore undoubtedly (if the word is to be retained) in a regenerate, " state :" but he presumes to .say, 
 that such doctrines as have been almost universally taught and received among Christians, concerning 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 701 
 
 " justification, regeneration, redemption, &c. have quite taken away the very ground of the Christian 
 life, the grace of God, and have left no object for the faith of a sinner to work upon." (§ 357.) And here- 
 upon, lest it should be forgot, he repeats it in the same section, that to represent it as " the subject of 
 doubtful inquiry, trial, and examination, whether we have an interest in Christ, whether we are in a 
 state of pardon, whether we be adopted," (and by consequence, to be sure, whether we be regenerated,) 
 " is " (as the Antinomians I imagine would also say) " to make our justification, as it invests us in those 
 blessings, to be of works, and not by faith alone :" and (as was just before said in the same words) " to 
 take away the very ground of the Christian life, the grace of God, and to leave no object for the faith of 
 a sinner to act upon." And this way of stating things, which has so generally prevailed, is joined with 
 the wickedness and contentions of professing Christians, as a third cause of that disregard to the gospel 
 which is so common in the present day. 
 
 Now as no book can fall more directly under this censure, than this of mine, in which it is the business 
 of the three first Sermons to direct professing Christians in an inquiry, whether they be or be not in a 
 regenerate state ; I thought it not improper, in this postscript, briefly to acquaint my reader with the 
 principles on which I continue to think the view, in which I have put the matter, to be rational and 
 Scriptural,* and do still in my conscience judge it far preferable to what the advocates of baptismal 
 regeneration on the one hand, or Mr. Taylor on the other, would introduce. It seems to me, that the 
 points in dispute with him are much more important than our debates with them, as a much greater 
 number of scriptures are concerned, and the whole tenor of our ministerial addresses would be much 
 more sensibly affected. Had I leisure to discuss the matter more largely with this gentleman, I should 
 think it might be an important service to the gospel of Christ. I hope it will be undertaken by some 
 abler hand ; and shall, in the mean time, go on preaching and writing in the manner so solemnly con- 
 demned, with no apprehension from the discharge of all this overloaded artillery, except it be what I 
 feel for the zealous engineer himself, and a few other friends who may chance to stand nearer him than 
 in prudence they ought. 
 
 Northampton, June 13, 1745. 
 
 SERMON XXll. 
 
 THE CHARACTER OF THE UNREGENERATE. 
 Ephes. ii. 1, 2. 
 
 And you hath he fjuichened, who were dead in tres- 
 passes and sins ; wherein in time past ye walked 
 according to the course of this world, accordinrj to 
 the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that 
 now worketh in the children of disobedience. 
 
 Among all the various trusts which r.ien can repose 
 in each other, hardly any appears to me more 
 solemn and tremendous, than the direction of their 
 sacred time, and especially of those hours which 
 they spend in the exercise of public devotion. 
 These .seasons take up so small a part of our lives, 
 when compared with that which the labours and 
 recreations of them demand ; and so much depends 
 upon their being managed aright, that we, who are 
 called to assi.st you in the employment and im- 
 
 provement of them, can hardly be too solicitous, 
 that we discharge the trust in a manner Avhich we 
 may answer to God and to you. If this thought 
 dwell upon the mind with due weight, it will have 
 some sensible influence upon our discourses to you, 
 as well as on the strain of those addresses which 
 we present to the throne of grace in your name and 
 on your account. We shall not be over-anxious 
 about the order of words, the elegance of expression , 
 or the little graces of composition or delivery; but 
 shall study to speak on the most important sub- 
 jects, and to handle them with such gravity and 
 seriousness, with such solemnity and spirit, as may, 
 through the divine blessing, be most likely to pene- 
 trate the hearts of our hearers, to awaken those 
 that are entirely unconcerned about religion, and 
 to animate and assist those, who, being already 
 ac(|uainted with it, desire to make continual ad- 
 vances, which will be the case of every truly good 
 man. 
 
 It is my earnest prayer for myself, and for my 
 l)rethren in the ministry of all denominations, that 
 
 For the full proof of this, that it is the most Scriptural sense, I must desire the re.ider dilisently to examine, and seriously to consider, the 
 several texts which are quoted in the following Discourses ; for it would swell this postscript too much to enumerate Ihrin all here, and to (rive 
 them a critical examination. Let it still be reiupnihercd, that to he regenerated, and to he born of God, arc equivalent phrases: and with this 
 rennark let any one that can do it paraphrase all the passages referred to, in two difi'ereiit views ; first putting the word hajitism for regeneration, 
 and Ijaptizcd persons for persons born of God; and then substituting our definition of regeneration, or of a regenerate person, insteiid of the 
 words themselves : and I cannot but think he will he struck with that demonstration, which will (as it were) emerge of itself upon such a trial. 
 And I must add, that if he look into the context of many of these p.assages, he will at the same time see how utterly ungrounded it is to assert, 
 as fome have done, " that re/cncralion is only uscil when apjilied to .Jewish converts to Christianity, referring to their former hiith from Abra- 
 ham 1 a notion so fully confuted by our Lord's discourse with Nicodemiis, .(ohn iii. .3, et .seq. by Tit. iii. .5. and by I Pet. i a, 23; ii. 2. when 
 compared with I Pet^ i. M ; iv. .3. (which proves that the apostle there wrote to .societies, of which the greatest part had before been idolatrous 
 l.enliles,) that 1 think it quite superfluous to discuss it more largely here. 
 
70-2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 wc may, in this ri sjicrt, api)rovc our wisdom and 
 integrity to God, and commend ourselves to tlie 
 eonseienees of all men. It is our eliarge, as we 
 sliall answer it another day to the God of the spirits 
 of all llesli, to use our prudent and zealous endea- 
 vours, to make men truly wise and good, virtuous 
 and happy : but to this purpose, it is by no means 
 suflieicnt to content ourselves, merely with attempt- 
 ing to reform the immoralities and irregularities of 
 their lives, and to bring them to an external beha- 
 viour, decent, honourable, and useful. An un- 
 dertaking like this, while the inward temper is 
 neglected, even when it may seem most effectual, 
 will be but like painting the face of one who is 
 ready to die, or labouring to repair a ruinous house, 
 by plastering antl adorning its walls, while its 
 foundations are decayed. There is an awful pas- 
 sage in Ezekiel to this purpose, w hich I hope we 
 shall often recollect : " Woe to the foolish pro- 
 phets, — because they have seduced my people, say- 
 ing, Peace, when there was no peace ; and one built 
 up a wall, and lo, others daubed it with untcm- 
 pered mortar : say unto them that daub it with un- 
 tempered mortar, that it shall fall : — Thus saith the 
 Lord God, I will even rent it with a stormy wind 
 in my fury ; and there shall be an overflowing 
 shower in mine anger, and great hailstones in my 
 fury to consume it ; so will I break down tlie wall 
 that ye have daubed with untempered mortar, and 
 bring it down to the ground, so that the foundation 
 thereof shall be discovered, and it shall fall, and 
 
 shall be consumed in the midst thereof ; and ye 
 shall know that I am the Lord." 
 
 If there be any, in one body of Christians or 
 another, that abet men's natural disposition to Hatter 
 themselves in a way that is not good, by encou- 
 raging them to hope for salvation, because they 
 were regularly ])aptized in their infancy ; because 
 they have diligently attended on public worship, in 
 its established or its separate forms ; or merely 
 because they do nobody any harm, but arc rather 
 kind and helpful to others ; or because their faith 
 is orthodox, their transports of afl'cction warm, or 
 their assurance confident; I pray (»od to awaken 
 them by the power of his grace, before they are 
 consumed, with their hearers, in the ruins of their 
 deceitful building. Those of you who are my .stated 
 hearers can witness for me, that in this respect I 
 have delivered my own soul. It has been the steady 
 tenor of my doctrine among you, that our hope and 
 confidence must be in Christ, and not in ourselves ; 
 and that, if we desire to be interested in tlse right- 
 eousness he has wrought out, and in the blessings 
 he has purchased by his sacred blood, wc must be 
 experimentally acquainted with the work of God's 
 renewing grace upon our souls, curing the inward 
 distempers of our degenerate hearts, and transform- 
 ing us into the image of his holiness : that is what 
 
 we are taught in Scripture to call by .the name of 
 regeneration ; and considering how much the sub- 
 ject is neglected by some, and, I fear I may add, 
 misrepresented and disguised by others, I appre- 
 iiend I shall profitably employ an evening hour for 
 several succeeding sabbaths, in giving a larger ac- 
 count than I have yet done, of the Scripture doc- 
 trine on this important subject, in its various parts. 
 It shall be my care in the series of these discourses, 
 as God shall enable me, to speak the words of truth 
 and soberness ; and I entreat you to have recourse 
 to the law and to the testimony, that you may judge 
 of the truth and weight of what I say. I desire not 
 to be regarded any further than I produce evidence 
 from reason and Scripture ; but so far as we are dis- 
 regarded, while we have the concurrent testimony 
 of both, our hearers must see to it ; and their dan- 
 ger will then be proportionable to the importance 
 of those truths, which their negligence, or their 
 prejudice, engage them either to reject, or to over- 
 look. 
 
 The plan, on which I intend to proceed in the 
 course of these Lectures, is this : 
 
 I. I will endeavour to describe the character of 
 those, whom we may properly call persons in an 
 unregenerafe state. 
 
 II. I will describe the nature of that change, 
 which may properly be called regeneration, or 
 conversion. 
 
 III. I will show at large the absolute necessity 
 of this change, and the consequent misery of those 
 that are strangers to it. 
 
 IV. I shall endeavour to prove the reality and 
 necessity of the divine influences on the mind, in 
 the production of such a change. 
 
 V. I shall describe some of those various me- 
 thods, by which God is pleased to operate in the 
 production of this holy and important work. 
 
 VI. I shall propose some advices to those who 
 are already awakened, as to the method in which 
 they are to seek renewing grace. After which, 
 
 VII. I shall conclude these Discourses with an 
 address to those who have experienced this happy 
 change, as to the manner in which they ought to be 
 afleeted with such a scries of sermons as this, and 
 the improvement they should make of what they 
 hear, and what they have felt agreeable to it. 
 
 I should be peculiarly inexcusable, if I entered 
 upon such a subject, without earnest and impor- 
 tunate prayers to the Fountain of light, grace, and 
 holiness, that while you hear of this important doc- 
 trine, ynu may have that experimental knowledge 
 of it, without which such discourses will indeed 
 seem obscure and enthusiastical, according to the 
 degree in which they are rational and spiritual. I 
 shall only add, that these Lectures will take their 
 rise from a variety of texts, which I shall not, ac- 
 cording to my usual method, largely open and 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 703 
 
 dilate apon, but only touch on them as so many 
 mottos to the respective sermons to which they are 
 prefixed. 
 
 As I intend not pliilosophical essays, but plain, 
 practical, and popular addresses, I shall begin, 
 
 First, With describing the character of those, 
 whom we may properly call unconverted and unre- 
 generate persons. 
 
 It is absolutely necessary that I should do this, 
 that you may respectively know your own personal 
 concern in what is farther to be laid before you in 
 the process of these Lectures. 
 
 Now you have the general character of such, in 
 the words of my text ; and a very sad one it is. 
 They are represented, 'as dead in trespasses and sins, 
 utterly indisposed both for the actions and enjoy- 
 ments of the spiritual and divine life ; as walking 
 according to the course of this world, a sad intima- 
 tion that it was the state of the generality of man- 
 kind ; nay, according to the prince of the power of 
 the air, that impure and wicked spirit, who works, 
 or exerts his energy, in the children of disobedience, 
 that is, in those who reject and despise the gospel ; 
 in which it is implied, (and a dreadful implication 
 his,) that the course and conduct of those who reject 
 the gospel is according to the desire and instigation 
 of the prince of darkness : they arc going on as the 
 devil himself would have them, and choose that 
 path for themselves which he chooses for them, as 
 leading them to most certain and most aggravated 
 ruin. 
 
 And who are these unhappy persons? Surely there 
 must be some of them among us : for who can flatter 
 himself, that in so numerous an assembly, the course 
 of all is difl'erent from that of the world ; and that 
 all have happily triumphed over the artifices of that 
 accursed spirit, who is, by God's righteous permis- 
 sion, become its prince, wliile it continues in its 
 apostate state ? I shall however think it a very 
 happy point gained, if I could convince any of you, 
 who are justly liable to that conviction, that you are 
 the men ; if I could, as it were, render visible to 
 your eyes those subtle, yet strongly complicated, 
 chains, in which Satan is binding you, and by which 
 he is drawing you on to eternal ruin ; that you 
 mi^bt recover yourselves out of the snare of the 
 devil, who are led captive by him at his pleasure. 
 
 I am this evening to describe the character of 
 unregenerate men : but I cannot pretend to do it in 
 all the variety of circumstances which may attend 
 it. I shall therefore mention only some particulars 
 which are most important, and which most certainly 
 
 , demonstrate a person to be of that wretched number. 
 
 j There are a great variety of countenances in tlic 
 human species ; yet the principal features in all are 
 the same, though tlieir proportion and lineaments 
 may difll'er : and I apprehend, the characters which 
 I am now to lay down, will most of them suit every 
 
 unregenerate person, though they may appear in 
 various persons in difl'erent degrees and different 
 instances. I shall chiefly lay down these characters 
 in negatives, as I apprelicnd it is the safest way ; 
 and only would observe, what you may easily per- 
 ceive, that I speak only of the adult ; for I would 
 cautiously avoid entangling this discourse, with 
 what relates purely to the case of infants, lest Satan 
 should get an advantage over us, and turn that into 
 an occasion to amuse curiosity, which I humbly 
 hope, under the influence of the Spirit of God, will 
 be the means of awakening conviction, and of break- 
 ing that delusive peace, in which, like the strong 
 man armed, he keeps his vassals, till the fatal hour 
 come which is to complete their ruin. 
 
 To wave the fonnality of laboured demonstrations 
 in a case which admits of such easy evidence, I 
 shall go upon this obvious principle in the whole of 
 my reasoning : " That to be regenerate, and to be 
 born of God, are in Scripture terms of the same im- 
 port ; and consequently, that whatever temper and 
 disposition is in Scripture declared to be incon- 
 sistent with the character of a child of God, must 
 necessarily denominate a man an unregenerate per- 
 son." And one would think this principle could 
 hardly be disputed, since all that allow of regene- 
 ration at all, in a Christian sense, seem to under- 
 stand by it that change, whatever it is, by which a 
 person is made a child of God, and by consecjucnce 
 an heir of heaven. 
 
 Now on this principle, you may take the marks 
 of an unregenerate person in such particulars as 
 these ; and let those, whose consciences own them, 
 hear and tremble. 
 
 1. The soul " that never seriously inquired into 
 its spiritual state," is, beyond all doubt, an unre- 
 generate soul. 
 
 The apostle earnestly presses it upon the Chris- 
 tians to whom he wrote, that they should diligently 
 examine themselves whether they were in the faith: 
 and he who has entirely neglected to do it, seems to 
 express, not merely a forgetfulness of religion, but 
 even a contempt of it too. Nevertheless, be it 
 known unto you, Sirs, that a humble return to God, 
 and a cordial dedication of soul to his service, is 
 not so slight an act of a man's life, that it should 
 pass without any observation in doing it, or anj- 
 serious reflection on having done it. Religion is a 
 deliberate thing ; it brings a man seriously to con- 
 sider his ways, that he may turn his feet to God's 
 commandments ; to search and try them, that he 
 may turn again unto the Lord. A good man is so 
 impressed with the thoughts of God, and of eternity, 
 that perhaps he is rather ready to be over anxiously 
 afraid and suspicious, in a matter of so great im- 
 portance ; and therefore will review, on the one 
 hand, the plan of salvation that God has laid down 
 in his word, and on the other, tlic correspondency 
 
704 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 to it tliat lio may discover in his own soul. And if 
 tluTO are any of yon that have never been thus eni- 
 ph)yed, any that have never separated yourselves 
 awhile from other employments, that you might seek 
 and intermeddle with this divine wisdom, you are 
 assuredly strangers to it. If there are any of you 
 that have never studied God's word, to learn his will 
 from thence ; that have never attended to sermons, 
 that you might try yourselves by them, and if pos- 
 sible carry home something of the chief of what you 
 hear, to assist your retired and more diligent in- 
 quiries ; you may now come to a very quick con- 
 clusion, and before you leave this place, yea, before 
 I proceed to any further particulars, you may set it 
 down as the memorable beginning of these Lectures, 
 and of this Discourse, I am already proved to be 
 an unregenerate creature : I am in the gall of bitter- 
 ness, and in the bond of iniquity !" Nay, you may 
 add, that there are perhaps thousands of those that 
 are yet unregenerate sinners, who have not been so 
 careless and so insensible as you. For indeed, Sirs, 
 a man may begin an examination, and start back 
 from the prosecution of it, before it is brought to 
 any important issue ; or trying himself by false 
 characters, he may come to a conclusion, which will 
 be so much the more dangerous, as it has been the 
 more deliberate. For the sake of such, therefore, I 
 add, 
 
 2. The soul " that is not deeply convinced of its 
 guilt before God, and desirous to seek deliverance 
 from it by the Lord Jesus Christ," is still in an un- 
 regenerate state. 
 
 All the promises of God's paternal favour do cer- 
 tainly imply tlie promise of forgiveness ; and you 
 well know, that these are appropriated to such as 
 humble themselves before God ; and that humbling 
 which is merely external, and implies no deep sense 
 of inward guilt, can pass for very little with that 
 God, who searches the heart and tries the reins of 
 the children of men. 
 
 The Scripture assures us, that whosoever believes 
 that Jesus is the Christ, is born of God; and no- 
 thing can be more certain from the whole tenor of 
 it, than that he that believes not shall be damned ; 
 and surely a state of damnation is not, and cannot 
 be, a state of regeneration. But what is tills faith 
 in Christ? Is it no more than a bare notional per- 
 suasion, that he is the Son of God? — If this were 
 all, the devils themselves believe ; and many were 
 the instances in which you know that they confess- 
 ed it, and trembled before him. You cannot then 
 be ignorant, that tlie faith, to which the promises of 
 salvation are made, is a faith which receives the 
 Lord Jesus Christ in all his oflices ; which trusts 
 his atonement, as well as admits his revelation ; and 
 flies to him for righteousness and life. And how- 
 can that man seek righteousness from Christ, who 
 is insensible of his own guilt? or how can he de- 
 
 pend upon him for life, who is not aware that he is 
 under a sentence of death and condemnation. 
 
 But imagine not you are secure, because you ac- 
 knowledge yourselves to be sinners. If that acknow- 
 ledgment be slight and formal, it shows you arc 
 strangers to the operation of that Spirit, whose 
 ollicc it is to convince men of sin. If you have not 
 been made sensible of the pollution of your hearts, 
 as w ell as the rebellion of your lives ; if you have 
 not received as it were a sentence of death in your- 
 selves, and submitted to that sentence as righteous, 
 though ever so dreadful ; if you have not been made 
 to loathe and abhor yourselves, and to repent in dust 
 and aslies ; if you have not laid your hand on your 
 mouth, and your mouth in the dust, crying out, 
 Unclean, unclean ; and in this sense, at least, 
 adopted that pathetic complaint, O wretched man 
 that I am, who shall deliver me ? it is a certain sign, 
 that sin still reigns in your mortal bodies, and is 
 unto this day bringing forth fruit unto death. 
 
 3. The soul " that is unconcerned about the favour 
 of God, and communion with him," is still in an 
 unregenerate state. 
 
 Common reason may tell you, that a soul destitute 
 of the love of God can never be the object of his 
 coniplacential regards ; and that it is impossibl 
 you should love him, while you are unconcerned 
 about his favour, and habitually indifferent to con- 
 verse with him. You believe there is a God ;— you 
 acknowledge that he is the great Benefactor of the 
 whole world ; — you know your happiness depends 
 upon his favour ; — you wish, therefore, that you may 
 enjoy it ; — that is, you wish that, some way or other, 
 you may be happy rather than miserable. But let 
 conscience say, whether you have ever felt, that in 
 his favour is life ? whether you have ever known, 
 what it is to cry out with intenseness and ardour of 
 soul. Lord, lift up the light of thy countenance 
 upon me ? Alas, Sirs, had you been sons, God would 
 have sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts: 
 and if this be not the sincere, if it be not the habi- 
 tual, language of your soul ; if you do not thus 
 earnestly desire to live under the manifestations of 
 the divine love, and to be able to .say, Truly our 
 communion is with the Father, and with his Son 
 Jesus Christ; you are spiritually dead, and under 
 the fatal influences of that carnal mind, which being 
 enmity against God, engages men to live contented 
 without God in the world, so long as their corn and 
 their wine increase. A heart thus alienated from 
 God, was never savingly turned to him, and can 
 have no just reason to imagine itself the object of 
 his paternal favour. 
 
 4. The soul " that is destitute of a sincere love 
 to mankind," has reason to consider itself as in an 
 unregenerate state. 
 
 You may, perhaps, think it unnecessary to men- 
 tion this ; but the apostle was undoubtedly a much 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 705 
 
 better judge, and his own words suggest this parti- 
 cular to me : " Beloved, let us love one another : for 
 love is of God ; and every one that loveth is born of 
 God, and kiiowcth God : he that loveth not, knoweth 
 not God, and consequently cannot be born of him ; 
 for God is love." And our Lord strongly intimates 
 the same thought, when he exhorts his disciples to the 
 most universal and unlimited benevolence by this 
 argument, Tiiat ye may be the children of your Father 
 which is in heaven ; plainly implying, that other- 
 wise they could not really be born of God, or claim 
 him for their Father. Regeneration is to form a 
 man for intimate communion with the general 
 assembly and church of the first-born, and to pre- 
 pare him for the region of complete and everlasting 
 love ; and the first-fruits of it are to appear, and to 
 be manifested here. It is a faithful saying, that 
 they who have believed in God should be careful to 
 maintain good works ; and unfeigned love is to be 
 the root of them : so that if you cannot stand this 
 trial, your religious hopes are all delusive and vain. 
 
 Let me entreat you, therefore, that you would now 
 look into your lives and hearts. Do any of the 
 malignant passions harbour there ? Ask yourselves, 
 " Is there any of my fellow-creatures whom I would 
 wish to see miserable; or would make so, if it v^ere 
 in my power to do it by the secret act of my will, so 
 that no mortal on earth should ever know me to be 
 the cause of their calamity 1" If it be so, and this 
 be your settled temper, you hate your brethren, and 
 are murderers ; and therefore are the children of 
 the devil, who was a murderer from the beginning; 
 and we may thus say of you, in the very words of 
 our Lord, who never uttered a rash censure. You 
 are of your father the devil, for his passions you 
 cherish, and his lusts you would do. 
 
 But rellect further, If you wish others no harm, 
 do you really wish them well ! and that so really, 
 and so sincerely, as to be ready to do them good ? 
 for merely to say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye 
 warmed and filled, when you have it in your power 
 to help them, is at once to mock the poor, and to 
 despise him that made him. You that are conscious 
 of a mean selfish temper, and wrap yourselves up, 
 as it were, in your own separate interests, or in 
 those of your own families, and can feel a concern 
 for no others; you that devise what you may ima- 
 gine shrewd and prudent things, but none that are 
 liberal and compassionate ; you, whose eye does 
 not affect your heart, when you see the distresses of 
 your brethren, while you have this world's good ; 
 ' howdwelleththe loveof God in you ? How ran you 
 \ imagine you are the children of him whom you so 
 ' little resemble? 
 
 Nay, permit mc to add once more upon this head, 
 that, if all your compassion is only moved by men's 
 temporal calamities, and works not in any degree 
 with respect to their spiritual and eternal interests, 
 2 z 
 
 you have reason to fear that it is no better than an 
 unsanctified humanity; and, indeed, that you never 
 have learned the worth of your own souls, while 
 you set so little value on the souls of others, even 
 of those to whom you profess and intend friendship. 
 And this concluding hint is of importance, to pre- 
 vent a dangerous mistake, in which too many good- 
 natured sinners are ready to flatter themselves, and 
 in which, perhaps, others arc too ready to join in 
 flattering them. 
 
 5. He " that does not know what it is to struggle 
 with indwelling sin, and heartily to resolve against 
 indulging it in any kind or degree," is undoubtedly 
 still in an unregenerate state. 
 
 You will observe, I do not say, " that every one 
 who knows what it is, to feel a struggle in his own 
 mind, when assaulted by temptations to sin, is a 
 truly good man;" the contiary is dreadfully ap- 
 parent. A principle of natural conscience often 
 makes very strong remonstrances against sin, and 
 sends out bitter cries when subjected to its vio- 
 lence ; and this is so far from denominating a man 
 a real Christian, that it rather illustrates the power 
 of sin, and aggravates its guilt. But when a man's 
 inclinations run entirely one way, and when he 
 gives a swing to his natural passions without any 
 regard or restraint ; when he is a stranger to any 
 inward conllict with himself, and any victory over 
 his own lusts and his corrupted will ; it is a cer- 
 tain sign he is yet under the dominion of Satan, 
 and is even to be numbered among the tamest of 
 his slaves. For they that are Christ's have crucified 
 the flesh, with the allections and lusts ; have learnt 
 to deny themselves, and to mortify their members 
 upon earth. 
 
 It is also of great importance to add, that there 
 must be " a resolution to oppose sin in every 
 kind, and in every degree :" for he that is born of 
 God sinneth not ; nay, it is elsewhere said. He 
 cannot commit sin: and though it is too visibly 
 true in fact, and apparent from several other pas- 
 sages in the very epistle whence these words are 
 taken, that this expression is to be interpreted with 
 some limitation ; yet the least that it can be ima- 
 gined to signify is this, that he does not wilfully 
 allow himself in the practice of any sin. He has 
 learnt to hate every false way, and to esteem all 
 God's precepts, concerning all things, to be right : 
 so that, upon the whole, if he might have his re- 
 quest, and God would grant him the thing that he 
 longs for, it would be this, to sin no more, and to 
 get rid of every sentiment, desire, and affection, in 
 any degree contrary to the purity of God's nature 
 and law. If therefore there be any of you that 
 spare one accursed thing, though you should seem 
 eager on destroying all the rest; if it be the secret 
 language of your soul, "There is but one lust that 
 I will indulge ; liierc is but one temptation that t 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 will ooniiily with ;" I peici-ivc your hearts arc not 
 right in tlic si<;lit of God ; for thou»;h you could, 
 according to your pretended purpose, keep all tlic 
 rest of the law, and yet ofl'end in this one point 
 alone, you would in elfect be a transgressor of all. 
 In short, he that conunittcth sin, is of the devil : 
 but he that is begotten of God, keepeth himself, and 
 that wicked one toucheth him not. 
 
 (J. He " that docs not know wiiat it is to over- 
 come this world, and to place his ha])piness in an- 
 other," is yet in an unrcgenerate state. 
 
 This is another of those certain marks >\hich 
 God has given us of his own children. Wlialsoever 
 is born of God, (as it is very empliatically ex- 
 pressed in the original,) overcometh the world. It 
 is not, you see, the extraordinary attainment of a 
 few more eminent Christians ; but it is an essential 
 branch of every good man's eliaracter: for he is 
 begotten again unto a lively ho|)C, by the resurrec- 
 tion of Jesus Christ from the dead, even to the hope 
 of an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and 
 that fadeth not away. You have reason therefore 
 to judge very uncomfortably concerning your state, 
 if you are strangers to this lively hope ; which is a 
 very diflcrent thing from that hope to be saved, of 
 which some people talk in so indolent, not to say, 
 in so profane, a manner, as to show, that it is the 
 hope of the hypocrite, which will perish, when God 
 takes away his soul. If you are conscious to your- 
 selves, that you mind earthly things, your end will 
 be destruction ; for having your heart on earth, it 
 is plain your only treasure is here ; and if you 
 govern yourselves by worldly maxims alone, and 
 your great care be to obtain those riches and ho- 
 nours which the children of the world pursue ; if 
 the importance of eternity has never appeared in 
 such a light, as to make you judge every thing 
 trifling, that can come in competition with it ; nay, 
 whatever your views of eternity have been, if you 
 are not practically carrying on a scheme for it ; and 
 if you cannot, and do not, deny your worldly in- 
 terest, when it cannot be secured without hazard- 
 ing your eternal hopes ; it is plain you are friends 
 of the world, in sucii a sense as none can be, but 
 he must be an enemy of God. If indeed you were 
 dead to the world, and your life hid with Christ in 
 God, you would set your affections on things above, 
 on those things which arc there, where Christ sitteth 
 on the right hand of God ; but the want of this tem- 
 per shows, that you arc carnally minded, which it is 
 death to be ; and tliat the redeeming love of Christ 
 has never exerted its influence upon your souls, nor 
 his cross had any due efficacy upon you ; for if it 
 had, the world would have been crucified to you, 
 and you also to the world. 
 
 7. The soul " that does not long for greater im- 
 provements in the divine life," is still a stranger to 
 the first principles of it. 
 
 You know, tliaf we are called, as Christians, with 
 a higli and holy calling; and as he that is the 
 Author of this calling is holy, so are we to be holy 
 in all manner of conversation, and to be perfect, 
 even as our Father which is in heaven is perfect. 
 Here will therefore be room for improvement, not 
 only during our continuance in the present life, but 
 through all tiie ages of a glorious clernity ; and it 
 is the ardent desire of every good man, that in this 
 sense, al)ove all others, his path may be like the 
 shining light, that shineth more and more until the 
 perfect day. And this is the one thing that he does, 
 or that in which all his labours centre ; being 
 conscious to himself how far he is from having al- 
 ready attained, or being already perfect, forgetting 
 the things that are behind, he reacheth forth unto 
 those things that are before, and presses toward the 
 mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in 
 Christ Jesus. In this view he seriously considers 
 the circumstances of life in which Providence has 
 placed him, that he may observe the advantages 
 which these circumstances give him for religious 
 improvements ; and it is delightful to him to dis- 
 cover sueli advantages. 
 
 Now if there be any of you, who know nothing of 
 this temper, you are certainly in an unregenerate 
 state, for none can be born of God, that do not love 
 him ; and none can truly love him, that do not 
 earnestly desire more and more to resemble him. 
 So tliat if your hearts can indulge such a thought as 
 this, " I wish I knew how much religion would be 
 just sufficient to save nic, and I would go so far, and 
 stop there;" your conscience must tell you, that 
 you secretly hate religion, and are unwillingly 
 dragged toward the form of it, by an unnatural and 
 external violence, the fear of misery and ruin in 
 neglecting it ; and that you are not actuated by 
 the free and liberal principles of a nature savingly 
 renewed. 
 
 8. The soul "that does not know what it is to 
 live by faith in Christ, and in dependence on his 
 Spirit," is still in an unregenerate state. 
 
 Wc are all the children of God, by faith in Christ 
 Jesus, if indeed we are so at all : and he that is 
 joined to the Lord, in this sense, is one spirit with 
 him. But if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, 
 he is none of his ; for as God has predestinated us 
 to the adoption of children, by Jesus Christ, to him- 
 self ; so of his fulness it is, that all believers do re- 
 ceive, even grace for grace, or an abundance and 
 variety of grace, by virtue of their union with him, 
 who is the head ; from whom the whole body, being 
 fitly joined together, and strengthened by what 
 every joint supplies, by an energy proportionable to 
 every part, increases to the edifying of itself in love. 
 These things, as you see, are not only hinted in 
 Scripture, but arc copiously insisted upon, as very i 
 material points : and though I readily acknowledge, 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 707 
 
 good men may apprehend and consider tliem very 
 differently, and may express those apprehensions in 
 different phrases ; yet as experience makes it plain, 
 that those souls generally flourish most who have 
 the most distinct conceptions of them, so I think it 
 is plain from these scriptures, that there can be no 
 religion at all where there is a total insensibility 
 of them. If, therefore, there are any of you that ap- 
 prehend it is enthusiasm to talk of the assistances of 
 the Spirit; nay, I will add, if there are any of you 
 tl»at do not earnestly desire these assistances, and 
 do not seek them daily from the hand of Christ, as 
 the great covenant-head of his people ; you are, I 
 fear, strangers to some of the first principles of the 
 oracles of God ; and are sensual, not having the 
 Spirit. And though you may now and then form a 
 hast}', and perhaps a warm, resolution in religion, 
 you will quickly, with the proud youth that are 
 conceited with their own sufficiency, faint and be 
 weary, and, with the young men, you will utterly 
 fail; while they only that wait upon the Lord, shall 
 renew their strength, shall mount up as on eagle's 
 wings, and, pressing on with an unwearied pace, 
 according to the difi'erent degrees of vigour which 
 the diff erent parts of their course may require, shall 
 run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint. 
 In short, if you do not thirst after the water of life, 
 that is, (as the evangelist himself explains it,) the 
 Spirit, which they that believe on Christ shall re- 
 ceive, however bountiful he is, he makes no pro- 
 mise to impart it to you ; and if you never receive 
 it, all your other sources of comfort will soon be 
 dried up, and the miserable condition of the crea- 
 ture, that asked in vain for one drop of water to cool 
 his tormented tongue, will certainly be yours. 
 
 Here I apprehend multitudes will miscarry, who 
 have made a fair show in the eyes of men ; and if 
 you are condemned by this mark, I am sure you 
 will not be acquitted by any of the preceding. For 
 all the branches of a holy temper have such a con- 
 nexion with this, and such a dependence upon it, 
 that a man who is destitute of this can have only 
 the semblance of the rest. 
 
 And thus, Sirs, I have, with all plainness and 
 faithfulness, as in the sight of God, and sensible of 
 my account to him, laid before you a variety of 
 hints, by which I think you may safely and truly 
 judge, whether you be or be not in an unregenerate 
 state ; and I shall now beg leave to conclude this 
 discourse with one plain inference from the whole, 
 viz. 
 
 That baptism is not regeneration, in the Scriptural 
 and most important sense of the word. 
 
 To prove this as a corollary from the preceding 
 discourse, I shall only assume this most reasonable 
 concession, with which you may remember I at first 
 set out ; " that regeneration and being born of God 
 signify the same thing." Now I have shown you, 
 2 z 2 
 
 from a variety of Scriptures, under the former heads, 
 that everyone whom the sacred oracles represent as 
 born of God, recei veth Christ, overcometh the world, 
 and sinneth not. But it is too plain, that these cha- 
 racters do not agree to every one that is baptized ; 
 and consequently it evidently follows, that every 
 one who is baptized is not of course born of God, 
 or regenerate ; and therefore, that baptism is not 
 Scripture regeneration. 
 
 I think no mathematical demonstration plainer 
 and more certain than this conclusion ; and there- 
 fore, whatever great and ancient names may be 
 urged on the other side of the question, I shall rest 
 the matter here, without leading you into the nice- 
 ties of a controversy so easily decided. I would 
 only further observe, that they who most vigorously 
 contend for the other manner of speaking (for after 
 all it is but a dispute about a word) acknowledge 
 expressly, that a man may be saved without what 
 they call regeneration, and that he may perish with 
 it. And though persons are taught to speak of 
 their slate, in consequence of baptism, in very high, 
 and I fear dangerous, terms ; yet when wise and 
 good men come to explain those terms, it evidently 
 appears, that many of whom they are used are so in 
 a state of salvation, as to be daily obnoxious to dam- 
 nation ; so the children of God, as also to bo the 
 ciiildren of the devil ; and so inheritors of the king- 
 dom of heaven, as to .be children of wrath, and on 
 the brink of hell. 
 
 Where persons of real piety apprehend them- 
 selves under a necessity of using such phrases with 
 respect to all that arc baptized, we cannot blame 
 them for endeavouring to bring down their significa- 
 tion as low as possible : but they will, I hope, 
 excuse those who choose to speak in what they 
 apprehend to be a more Scriptural, rational, and 
 edifying language. 
 
 It was matter of conscience with me to state the 
 matter as you have heard. I do therefore earnestly 
 entreat you, my dearly beloved, in the name of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, and for the sake of your own 
 immortal souls, that you deceive not yourselves 
 w ith vain words ; but that where your eternal sal- 
 vation is so plainly concerned, you bring the cause, 
 the important cause, to an immediate trial ; and if 
 you are convinced, as I suppose many of you quickly 
 may be, that you are at present dead in trespasses 
 and sins, then let me beseech you to reflect on what 
 the most transient survey of the Scripture may teach 
 you, as to the danger of such a case. For tliough 
 it will be my business, in the process of these Dis- 
 courses, more largely to represent it, when I come 
 to speak of the necessity of the new birth, God only 
 knows whether your lives may be continued till wc 
 advance so far in the subject ; and where a case of 
 this kind is in question, the delay of a week, or even 
 of a day, may be inevitable and eternal ruin. 
 
708 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON XXI II. 
 
 OF rilV. NATl Ur OF REGENERATION', AND PAIITICII. 
 I.Alt I, V or THE CIIANOE IT PRODUCES IN MEN'S 
 ArriiEHENs^lONS. 
 
 2 Cor. v. 17. 
 
 If any man be in Cfirist, he is a nciv creature : old 
 thiiiys are passed away ; behold, all things are be- 
 come new. 
 
 The knowledp^e of our true state in rcli<iion, is at 
 once ;i matter of so j^reat importance, and so difli- 
 cult, that in order to obtain it, it is necessary we 
 should have line upon line, and precept upon pre- 
 cept. Tlie plain discourse which you heard last 
 Lord's day, was intended to lead you into it ; and I 
 question not but I then said enough to convince 
 many that they were in an nnregenerate condition. 
 Nevertheless, as there are various approaelies to- 
 wards regeneration and conversion, which on tlie 
 whole fall short of it, I think it very expedient now 
 to give you, what I may propeily call the counter- 
 part of this view ; which I sliall, by divine assist- 
 ance, attempt from the words I have now been reading. 
 
 The apostle who wrote tliem was transported to 
 such a zeal for Christ, and for the souls of men, 
 that some thought him beside himself ; and no doubt 
 manj' would represent him as the greatest entliu- 
 siast upon the face of the eartli. But as it was a 
 very small thing to him to be judged of man's judg- 
 ment, he calmly vindicates himself, by declaring 
 that there was a cause for all this warmth, as the 
 honour of God, and the Redeemer, and the eternal 
 salvation of men, were so intimately concerned in 
 the affair: " The love of Christ, says he, constrains 
 us, or, as the word* properly signifies, it bears us 
 away with it, like a mighty torrent, which we are 
 not able to resist; because we thus judge, that if 
 one died for all, then were all dead, under the sen- 
 tence of God's righteous law, or they would not 
 have needed such an atonement as the blood of liis 
 Son; and we further judge, that he died for all, 
 that they who now live, only in consequence of his 
 dying love, should not henceforth live unto them- 
 selves, but unto him that died for them." We there- 
 fore live to this Jesus ; we consecrate our lives and 
 labours to tliis purpose ; and in consequence of it, 
 we henceforth know no man after the flesh, that is, 
 we do not regard our temporal interests, nor con- 
 sider how we may most efTectually obtain the favour 
 and friendship of those who may be useful to us in 
 life ; yea, though we have known Christ after the 
 flesh, or have expected a temporal Messiah, who 
 should make our nation triumphant over the Gen- 
 tiles, and enrich it with the spoils of other nations. 
 
 yet now henceforth we know Liu» no more under 
 such a character. And in this respect the same 
 temper will prevail in the heart of every real Chris- 
 tian ; and therefore, i. e. in consequence of what was 
 said before of the Redeemer's love, if any man be 
 in Christ, if he be really one of his faithful serv- 
 ants, united to him by a lively faith, and in conse- 
 quence of that union interested in his salvation, he 
 is a new creature ; his views and sentiments, his 
 affections and pursuits, are so entirely changed, that 
 he seems as it were to be couie into a new world, 
 and to be transformed quite into another person 
 from what he formerly was: old things arc passed 
 away, and (behold the astonishing transformation !) 
 all things are become new. This is the tliought that 
 1 am now to illustrate ; and you cannot but sec how 
 proper a foundation it will be for our discourse on 
 the second general I jiroposed, wliich is. 
 
 Secondly, Particularly to describe the nature of 
 that great change, which passes on every soul, that 
 is truly regenerate, in the Scriptural and most im- 
 portant sense of the word. 
 
 And here it may hardly seem necessary to tell 
 you, that I do not mean to assert, that the substance 
 of the soul, and its natural faculties, are in a strict 
 and proper sense changed : a man might as reason- 
 ably assert from such a scripture, that the former 
 body was annihilated, and a new one produced ; 
 and common sense and decency will not allow us to 
 imagine, that the apostle meant any thing of this 
 nature, by tlie general terms he uses here. But the 
 plain meaning is, that when a man becomes a real 
 Christian, the whole temper and character of his 
 mind is so changed, as to become different from 
 that of the generality of mankind, and different from 
 what it formerly was, while in an unenlightened 
 and unrenewed state. It is not merely a little cir- 
 cumstantial alteration ; it is not assuming a new 
 name, professing new speculative opinions, or prac- 
 tising some new rites and forms : but it is becoming 
 (as we frequently say, in our usual forms of speech) 
 a different creature, or a new man. — And tlius the 
 sacred writers express themselves in many other 
 passages, which very happily serve to illustrate 
 this. They, in particular, represent God as promis- 
 ing, with relation to this work, " A new heart will 
 T give them ; and a new spirit will I put within 
 them ; and I will fake away the heart of stone," the 
 stubborn, obstinate, impenetrable disposition they 
 once had, " and will give them a heart of flesh," a 
 tender, compliant temper, which shall incline them 
 to submit to my will with humility, and to obey it 
 with delight. And thus, when the apostle had ex- 
 horted the Ephesians to put off, with respect totlieir 
 former conversation, the old man, which is corrupt 
 according to its deceitful lusts, he adds, And be re- 
 newed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the 
 new man, which after God, or in conformity to his 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 709 
 
 image, is created in righteousness and true holi- 
 ness ; which is further illustrated by his important 
 exhortation to the Romans, Be not conformed to 
 this world ; but be j e transformed by the renewing 
 of your mind. And on the same principles, what in 
 one place he calls the new creature, in anotlier 
 parallel place he expresses, by faith that works by 
 love, and by keeping the commandments of God; 
 for all these, as equivalent characters, he opposes 
 to circumcision and uncircumcision, or to the mere 
 externals of a religious profession ; declaring the 
 utter insufficiency of the latter, and the absolute 
 necessity of the former. 
 
 The general nature of this change may then be 
 understood, by an attentive consideration of such 
 scrij)tures as those mentioned above ; which indeed 
 contain what is most essential on this subject. But 
 for the more complete illustration of the matter, I 
 shall particularly show you, that where there is 
 reason to speak of a man, as one of those who are 
 in Christ Jesus, or who are truly regenerate, there 
 will be " New apprehensions, new affections, new 
 resolutions, new labours, new enjoyments, and new 
 hopes :" and perhaps there are few important 
 branches of the Christian character, which may not 
 be introduced, as illustrating one or other of these 
 remarks. 
 
 The former of them is indeed the foundation of the 
 rest ; because, as religion is a reasonable service, 
 all the change which is made in the affections and 
 resolutions, in the pursuits, enjoyments, and hopes 
 of a good man, arises fioni that dill'erent view, in 
 which he is now taught to look on those o))jeets, the 
 nature of which is to direct his choice, to determine 
 his conduct, and regulate his passions: it will 
 therefore be the business of this evening's discourse 
 to show you, 
 
 I. That wherever there is a real principle of 
 regeneration, there will be new apprehensions of 
 things. 
 
 When God created the natural world, he said, in 
 the very beginning of his work. Let there be light, 
 and there was light : and thus he deals in this new 
 creation, which raises the soul from a chaos, lo such 
 a beautiful, well-ordered, and wcll-furnished frame. 
 God, says the apostle, who commanded the light to 
 shine out of darkness, has shined into our hearts, to 
 give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God 
 in the face of Jesus Christ ; whereas before, the 
 understanding was darkened, being alienated from 
 the life of God, through the ignorance that was in 
 them, because of the blindness or perverseness of 
 their hearts. 
 
 Now this illumination, of which I am speaking, 
 does not so much refer to a speculative, as to a 
 practical and heart-impressing knowledge. It is 
 true, that when a man once comes to be in good 
 earnest in religion, he generally arrives at a clearer 
 
 and fuller knowledge, even of the doctrines of 
 Christianitj', than he had before: for he then sets 
 himself to inquire with greater diligence, and to 
 seek light of the great Father of lights with greater 
 earnestness ; he gets clear of many evil affections, 
 that put a corrupt bias upon his judgment; and he 
 comes within the reach of those promises, " Then 
 shall we know, if we follow on to know the Lord ; 
 and if any man will do his will, he shall know of 
 the doctrine, whether it be of God." Yet, I think, 
 I may very properly say, that at various times, when 
 our judgment of any object is the same, our appre- 
 hensions of it are very different. It is one thing, 
 for instance, to believe that God is the omnipotent, 
 all-wise, and all-gracious governor of the world ; 
 and another and very different tiling, to have the 
 heart powerfiilij' impressed with an apprehension 
 of his ability and readiness to help us. I will, 
 therefore, a little more particularly illustrate those 
 respects, in which the apprehensions of such as are 
 really regenerate, differ from those which they 
 formerly had : and I hope you will do yourselves 
 the justice to reflect, as we go along, how far you 
 iiave felt these apprehensions which you hear mc 
 describe ; and I have a pleasing persuasion, that 
 many of you have felt tliem in a much livelier 
 manner than they can be described. I would ob- 
 serve then to j'oUjthat a regenerate soul has new 
 apprehensions " of God, — of itself, — of Christ, — of 
 eternity, — and of the way and method that God has 
 marked out for its being happy there." 
 
 1. A regenerate soul has new apprehensions " of 
 the blessed God." 
 
 There are very few who pretend so much as to 
 doubt of the being of a God ; and fewer yet, that 
 will venture to deny it: and even among those 
 who have denied it, and disputed against it, some 
 by their own confession, have felt their hearts give 
 them the lie, and upbraid them forusingthe powers 
 of reason and speech against the Giver and Pre- 
 server of both. I persuade myself, at least, there 
 are none that hear mc this day, who would not look 
 upon a professed atheist as a monster, unworthy to 
 lie a member of human society, and little to be 
 trusted in any of its relations. Yet after all, w hile 
 the being of the blessed God is warmly asserted, 
 his nature is so little understood and considered, 
 that there are thousands who may still properly he 
 said to be without God in tiic world, or in practice 
 and temper, though not in notion, to be atheists in 
 it. Wicked men therefore, in general, arc described 
 as those that know not God: but where God has 
 determined to glorify his mercy in the salvation of 
 a sinner, he shines into the heart for this blessed 
 purpose, to give the light of the knowledge of the 
 glory of God. And thus the glories of the divine 
 Being are known to the regenerate soul in such a 
 manner, as they are not to the most acute metaphy- 
 
710 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 siciaii, or the siibliinest philosopher, who is himself 
 a stranger to the spiritual life. 
 
 The person of whom we now speak, has new ap- 
 prehensions " of the spirituality and omnipreseneeof 
 Goil, — of his majesty and purity, — of his power and 
 patience, — of his <!,oo(lncss, — and his intimate access 
 to men's spirits, w itli the reality and importance of 
 his operations upon them." — Permit me a little to 
 represent tiie views of each, both to direct your in- 
 quiries, and also to impress your minds, and my 
 own, with truths in which we have all so intimate a 
 concern. 
 
 The divine spirituality and omnipresence is ap- 
 prehended by the f^ood man in a peculiar manner. 
 That there is some innnaterial substance, and that 
 matter is moved by his active power continually 
 impressed upon it, according to stated laws, is in- 
 deed so plain a dictate of reason, that I question 
 not but the thought influences the minds of some, 
 who have not so much acquaintance with language 
 as to be able properly to express it: but, alas! it 
 easily passes through, as if no way important. It is 
 quite a difl'ercnt thing to feel, as it were, the pre- 
 sence of an infinitely intelligent and all-observing 
 Deity, actually surrounding us in all times and 
 places ; — to say from the heart, O Lord, thou hast 
 searched me and known me, so that thou under- 
 standest my thoughts afar off: whither shall I go 
 from thy Spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy 
 presence ? Thou hast beset me behind and before, 
 and laid thine hand upon me ; — to feel, as it were, 
 the hand of God, which indeed we may feel, if we 
 duly attend to it, in all the impressions made on 
 our bodily senses, and on the powers of our mind ; — 
 to feel ourselves even now supported by it, and to 
 argue from the constant support of his hand, the 
 never-failing notice of his eye. " He reads my 
 present thoughts ; he knows even now, all the se- 
 crets of my soul, and has always observed my eon- 
 duct in every the minutest particular : and recorded, 
 in permanent characters, the whole history of my 
 life, and of my heart ; of this depraved, sinful 
 life, of this vain, this treacherous, this rebellious 
 heart." 
 
 With this conception of the divine observance, 
 are closely and intimately connected new appre- 
 hensions of the purity of God, and of his infinite 
 Majesty ; views, which mutually assist and illus- 
 trate each other. The irreverence with which the 
 generality of men behave in the presence of (Jod, 
 and the easiness with which they admit the slight- 
 est temptation to sin against him, plainly show 
 what low notions they have of him : but God does, 
 as it were, appear to the eye of a renewed mind, 
 arrayed in his robes of light and majesty ; so that 
 he is ready to cry out, " I have heard of thee by the 
 hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth thee : I 
 see the eternal, self-existent, self-sufficient God, 
 
 who sits upon the circle of the earth, and the in- 
 habitants thereof are as grasshoppers ; who s])read- 
 eth out the heavens as a tent to dwell in, and looks 
 down on the nations as the drop of a bucket, and 
 counts them as the small dust of the balance. Who 
 would not fear before him? who would not trem- 
 ble at his presence? who would not revere that 
 God, who is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and 
 cannot look upon iniquity; who cannot be tempted 
 with evil, but must see it, and hate it, even in all 
 its forms ?" 
 
 And such too arc the views it has of his almighty 
 power, that the enlightened mind will further add, 
 " A God of almighty power, who could speak a 
 whole world into ruin ; (undoubtedly he could, for 
 he spoke it into existence ;) who by one single 
 thought, by one silent volition, could easily abase 
 the proudest creature in the universe ; must have it 
 in his power to bring me in a moment to the dust of 
 death, and to the tlames of hell ; to lay me as low 
 in misery, and to hold me as long in it, as he should 
 please : this, O my soul, this is the God, against 
 whom such feeble worms as we are daily offending, 
 and whom we madly presume to make our enemy." 
 
 This gives the regenerate man a further sense of 
 the patience of God than ever he had before. 
 Others may look round upon the world, and won- 
 der there is so much penal evil in it ; but the 
 renewed soul wonders there is not a thousand times 
 more. When he sees, how the world lieth in 
 wickedness ; when he observes, how poor impotent 
 mortals are, many of them perhaps, in words blas- 
 pheming the God of heaven ; many more of them, 
 most presumptuously violating all the plainest and 
 most important precepts of his law ; and most of 
 the rest, living in a perpetual forgetfulness of him, 
 as if he were not at all, or were not so considerable 
 as to be any way worth their notice ; such an one 
 cannot but wonder, that the Almighty Majesty of 
 heaven does not in a moment make himself known 
 by the thunder of his power, and confound all their 
 madness and folly by crushing the world with its 
 inhabitants into ruin. He often sees the rising sun, 
 and the descending rain, with astonishment that it 
 should be sent down on such a world as ours. 
 
 He has also more affecting views than ever of the 
 divine goodness. Most men speculatively believe 
 it ; and they take occasion, even from that belief, to 
 afl'ront it: but a good man views it at once as a de- 
 lightful and a venerable thing ; he fears the Lord 
 and ins goodness ; and while it encourages him, 
 guilty as he is, to repose himself upon it as his hope, 
 it awakens a generous kind of confusion at the 
 thought of ever having offended him, and fills his 
 very soul with indignation at the thought of repeat- 
 ing such offences. 
 
 And once more, the regenerate man has quite 
 diflerent notions than before, of the intimate access 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 711 
 
 which God has to the spirits of men, and his import- 
 ant power of operating upon them. The greatest 
 part of men indeed consider not, as tliey ought, how 
 tlie whole material world perpetually depends upon 
 a divine agency, and is no other than one grand 
 machine, on which the great Artificer continually 
 acts, to make it an instrument of mercy to his sensi- 
 tive and intelligent creatures. But there are yet 
 fewer, who seriously consider how entirely the 
 hearts of men are in the hand of the Lord, and how 
 much depends on his inllucnces upon them. Never- 
 theless, experience teaches. the renewed soul, that 
 he is the God of the spirits of all flesh ; and that he 
 not only views, but manages, them as he pleases. 
 " Lord," does he say, " this spirit of mine is shaded 
 with thick darkness, but thou canst illuminate it ; 
 it is diseased, but thou canst cure it ; it is unstable 
 as water, and lighter than a featlier, yet thou canst 
 fix and establish it; and whatever thou wouldst 
 have mc to be, and to do, for thy glory, and mine 
 own happiness, thou canst work in me both to will 
 and to perform it : so that all I need, to the recti- 
 tude and felicity of my nature, is only this, that I 
 may have more of tliine inward, vital, operative 
 presence." It is not easy to conceive, what eflicacy 
 this thought has, for the transformation of the soul. 
 But again, 
 
 2. New apprehensions are connected with these 
 sentiments in the regenerate soul, " concerning 
 itself, and its own state." 
 
 It is surprising to think, how many run through 
 successive years in life, without ever turning the eye 
 of the mind inward, that the soul may survey itself. 
 I speak not of a philosophical survey of the facul- 
 ties of the mind ; which, though indeed in its place 
 it be useful and entertaining, is no more necessary 
 in its refinements to a well-ordered state, than skill 
 in anatomy is to a healthful constitution : but I 
 speak of those views of the mind, which are in the 
 reach of all, how low soever their genius or their 
 education may have been. 
 
 As all tr ie happiness is an infernal thing, where- 
 ever God intends to produce it in the lieart of a 
 revolted and corrupted creature, (and such, alas ! 
 we all naturally are,) he leads it into a view of 
 itself; and .shows it (if I may be allowed the ex- 
 pression) a mixture of grandeur and misery, that 
 lies within ; which yet the greatest part of man- 
 kind live and die without ever observing. "lam 
 liere," does the awakened creature say, " an in- 
 telligent being; far superior to this well-vv roiight 
 frame of flesh and blood, which God has given 
 mc for a little while to command, and which I 
 must quickly drop in the dust : I am made ca- 
 pable of determining my own choice, of direct- 
 ing my own actions, of judging concerning the 
 importance of ends, and the propriety of means in 
 subserviency <o them ; and while I see a vast 
 
 variety of creatures in different forms beneath me, 
 I see no rank of creatures above me, nothing nobler 
 than man, here on earth, where I dwell. Yet I see 
 man, in the midst of his glory, a feeble, dependent, 
 mortal creature, who cannot possibly be his own 
 end, nor can of himself alone, by any means, com- 
 mand or insure his own happiness. — Every thing 
 tells me that he is the creature of God ; and that it 
 is his greatest honour and felicity to know, and 
 practically to acknowledge, himself to be so : every 
 thing tells me that it is most reasonable that God, 
 who is the great original of man, should also be the 
 end of his being ; but have I made him the end of 
 mine ? My soul, thou art conscious to thyself thou 
 hast lived in many instances without him in the 
 world. — He has given thee, even in the system of 
 thine own nature, and of the visible beings that are 
 round about Ihee, compared with his providential 
 interposition in the management of them, the inti- 
 mations of his holy and righteous will : he has 
 expressed these dictates far more plainly in his 
 written word : and when thou comest to examine 
 them, how art thou condemned by them ! When 
 thou comest to think of the spirituality and purity 
 of his being and his law, how shameful docs thy 
 temper and thy life appear to have been ! what an 
 infinite disproportion is theie between that and its 
 perfect rule! — And whom, O my soul, hast thou 
 offended ? whose law hast thou broken ? whose 
 grace hast thou despised ? — The law, the grace of 
 that eternal God, of whom I have now been hearing; 
 who is hiirc present with mc, who is even within mc, 
 and who sees, O my heart, (more distinctly than 
 thou canst see,) all thy guilf, and all its aggrava- 
 tions. O Lord ! I abhor myself, and repent in dust 
 and aslies. I have talked of sin, and of the sen- 
 tence of God against it, as a thing of course : but oh, 
 my soul, it is thine own concern! The guilt, the 
 stain of sin is still upon thee ; the sentence of God 
 is pronounced against thee ; and it must be rev©j;sed, 
 or thou art undone for ever. These irregular habit.s 
 and dispositions that prevail in thee must be cor- 
 rected, or they will prove thy mortal disease and 
 everlasting torment. — Thou art a poor, weak, irre- 
 solute creature ; the experience of every past day 
 of life, since I began to think of religion at all, 
 proves it : yet thou must, by some means or other, 
 attain to inward strength and inward purity, or 
 thou art lost ; and all these great capacities, and 
 glorious faculties, will but make thy ruin so much 
 the more distinguished. Oh how weighty the care ! 
 Oh how great the charge ! What shall I do, that 
 thought, that reason, that immortality, may not be 
 my destruction ! Where shall I find a rock that will 
 be firm enough for my support and safety? Where 
 shall I find the means to build the fabric of such a 
 happiness, as thine, O my soul, must be, if ever I 
 am happy at all ?" 
 
712 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Thus iloes God teacli the uiiiul, by its iinvard 
 reviews .Tnd rcllcctioiis, this important lesson of 
 its own impotence and guilt, of its depravity and 
 ruin ; and so prepares it for tliose new apprehen- 
 sions of Christ wiiich I mentioned as the third par- 
 tieular. 
 
 3. Tlie regenerate soul has new apprehensions 
 " coneerning the Lord Jesus Christ, considered 
 as a Mediator in general, and as such a particular 
 Mediator as he is exhibited in the woril of God." 
 
 That afl'ecting view which the regenerate soul 
 has of the majesty, glory, power, and purity of the 
 blessed God, will undoubtedly convince him how 
 unfit he is in himself to appear before his awful 
 ■presence. He is ready to sink down in the dust at 
 the very thought, and to say, " Who is able to 
 stand before such a great and holy God as thou art? 
 If I were in all the original rectitude and gloiy of 
 my nature, I could not do it: how much less, sur- 
 rounded as I am, with so much guilt, with so much 
 pollution ! I need, as it were, a days-man betwixt 
 us, who might lay his hand upon ns botli, who 
 should transact afl'airs in my name with God, and 
 bring the peaceful messages of God to me : let such 
 a one speak with me, and I will hear ; but let not 
 God speak with me, lest I die." 
 
 And w hen he comes to take a more near and in- 
 timate view of this Mediator which God has exhi- 
 bited in the gospel, the renewed soul is even 
 charmed and transported with the view : and that 
 Jesus, whose name he before pronounced witli so 
 much coldness, that the very mention of it was a 
 kind of profanation, now is regarded by him as thf, 
 thicfest among ten thousand. He beholds his 
 glory, as tliat of the Only-begotten of the Father, 
 full of grace and truth. The union of the divine 
 and human nature in the person of Christ, though 
 it appears indeed a mystery, which he cannot fully 
 explain, is nevertheless a glorious certainty, w hich 
 in the general he most coidially believes. He sees 
 Emanuel, God dwelling with us in human llesh, 
 and acquiesces in the sight ; while the rays of 
 divine glory are attempered by passing through the 
 veil, that is to say, his llcsh. He considers Christ 
 as made of God unto him wisdom, and righteous- 
 ness, and sanctification, and redemption : and each 
 of these view s rejoices him to the very heart. " Ig- 
 norant as I am, I shall be taught and instructed by 
 him, that great Prophet, whom God sent into the 
 world ; by him, who is incarnate wisdom, as well 
 3S incarnate love; whose words resound in the 
 gospel, and whose Spirit seals the instructions of 
 liis word, Guilty as I am, niy crimes shall be ex- 
 piated ; for there is redemption in his blood, even 
 the forgiveness of sins : there is an everlasting 
 righteousness that he has introduced : and O how 
 richly will it adorn my soul ! — This pollution of 
 mine shall not for ever exclude me from a comfort- 
 
 able intercourse with the pure Majesty of heaven ; 
 for Christ is come to be my sanctilication ; and he 
 can cleanse me by his Spirit, and transform me into 
 that divine, delightful image which I have lost. — 
 A'iclorious Lord, how easily canst thou redeem me 
 from that state of servitude, in which I have been 
 kept so long complaining ! how easily, and how 
 powerfully, canst thou vindicate me into the glo- 
 rious liberty of the children of God ! — Blessed 
 Jesus, thou art my light and my strength, my hope 
 and my joy ! Thou art just such a Saviour as my 
 necessity requires; thou fillest up all my wants, 
 and all my wishes ; thou art all in all' to me ! 1 
 would not be ignorant of thee for ten thousand 
 worlds ; I would not live a day, nor an hour, with- 
 out recollecting who and what thou art, and main- 
 taining that intercourse with thee, which is the life 
 of my soul." 
 
 4. The regenerate soul has also new apprehensions 
 " of the importance of eternity, when compared with 
 time and all its concerns." 
 
 It is indeed a most pitiable thing, and awakens 
 our astonishment, grief, and indignation, to observe 
 how the things of tliis world press down immortal 
 spirits, and reduce them almost indeed to a state 
 of brutality. Most deplorable it is, to see the 
 power and energy of those motives, which arc 
 taken merely from this earth, and its little con- 
 cernments ; so that if a man did but know what 
 was the favourite vanity, he might almost predict, 
 from the knowledge of eirciirastanees, liow a man's 
 actions would be ordered ; and might almost be 
 sure that he would follow, whithersoever this in- 
 terest, or that pleasure, this ambitious, or that mer- 
 cenary, view, called him ; though all the prospects 
 of an eternal world pleaded the contrary way. 
 Such is the folly and madness that is in men's hearts 
 while they live ; and after that, they go down to 
 the dead, and spend that immortal duration, which 
 they have despised, in fruitless lamentations. Fatal 
 delusion ! which it is the great design of the gospel 
 to cure. 
 
 But when a soul becomes wise to salvation, it is 
 taught to look not at the tilings wliicli are seen, but 
 at the things which are not seen ; because it has 
 now a full sense of what before it only notionally 
 confessed, that the things which are seen arc tem- 
 poral, but the things which are not seen are eter- 
 nal. — Eternity! it is impossible I should tell you 
 how much an eye, that is enlightened l)y God, sees 
 and reads, as it were, in that one word ; w liilc one 
 scene beyond another is still opening on the mind, 
 till its sight and its thouglits are swallowed up : 
 and as the creatures are as nothing with respect to 
 God, so all the interests of time, with respect to 
 eternity, appear as less than nothing and vanity. 
 To be made for an everlasting existence appears in 
 so awful a view, that while it has some pleasing 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 713 
 
 hope, It rejoices with trembling ; and every re- 
 maining fear, with relation to this great interest, 
 seems a greater evil than the certainty of any tem- 
 poral calamity. 
 
 I might add upon this head, that the regenerate 
 soul has not only new views of the importance, but 
 likewise of the nature, of the invisible and eternal 
 state ; and particularly of the nature of the celestial 
 happiness. It does not consider it merely, or 
 chielly, as a state of corporeal enjoyment, formed to 
 gratify and delight the senses ; but as a state of 
 perfect conformity to God, and most endearing 
 intercourse with him ; of which, as it begins already 
 by divine grace to taste the pleasures, so it most 
 ardently thirsts after them ; and would be heartily 
 willing to lose this body for ever, and to bid an 
 eternal adieu to every object capable of giving it 
 delight ; rather than it would consent to lose, in a 
 perpetual succession of such objects, the sight of tlie 
 Father of spirits, and that sensibility of his love 
 which adds the most substantial solidity, and ex- 
 alted relish, to every inferior good that can be 
 desired from it. 
 I 6. A regenerate man has also new apprehensions 
 I '* of the way which God has marked out to this 
 happiness." 
 
 Nothing is more common than for carnal and 
 ignorant men to imagine, that it is a very easy thing 
 to get to heaven ; and upon this presumption, they 
 hew out to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that 
 can hold no water ; and often live and die with a 
 lie in their right hand. But the renewed soul, 
 having such awful notions of the blessed God, and 
 such apprehensions of the excellency and glory of 
 the heavenly state, as you have heard, deeply feels 
 how absolutely necessary it is, that something of a 
 very great and important change should pass in the 
 mind of that sinful creature, that ever hopes to be 
 a partaker of it. He sees, that it is impossible any 
 external rite should secure so great an end ; im- 
 possible, that baptism should be regeneration, in 
 that sense in which the Scripture uses the word, or 
 that by this alone, though ever so regularly ad- 
 ministered, a man's eternal happiness should be 
 secured. He sees, that to be associated to this or 
 that party of Christians, to join with established or 
 separate churches, and to be ever so zealous for 
 their respective order, worship, and discipline, is a 
 thing quite of foreign consideration here ; and that 
 the best or the worst of men may be, and probably 
 are, on one side, and on another; nay that igno- 
 rance, pride, and bigotry may take occasion from 
 I hence, to render men furtlier from the kingdom of 
 ' God, than any mistake in judgment or practice on 
 these disputed points could have set them. 
 
 No, my brethren, when a man's eyes are en- 
 lightened by God's renewing Spirit, he sees and 
 feels that, in the language of Scripture, he must be 
 
 created anew in Christ Jesus : he sees, that holiness 
 is a character without which no man shall see the 
 Lord ; and he is perhaps little anxious, whether 
 this, or the faith that produces it, shall be called a 
 condition, or a qualification, or an instrument, 
 while he sees he must perish without it: he sees, 
 that as it is absolutely necessary, so it is very ex- 
 tensive, as the commandment, wliich is its rule, is 
 exceeding broad : he sees, that it must not only 
 effectually regulate the actions of his life, but 
 control all the sentiments of his heart : nay, he 
 sees, it must not only be submitted to as a neces- 
 sary, but be chosen as a most amiable, thing ; and 
 accordingly, he does choose it as such. — The un- 
 rcgenerate soul, when he hears of repentance and 
 reformation, though he understands not half that 
 it means, nor is aware of what will, in fact, be the 
 greatest difficulty of it, looks upon it at best as a 
 nauseous medicine, \\ hicli he must take, or die ; 
 hut the regenerate man finds his heart so wonder- 
 fully and so happily changed, that he regards it for 
 itself, as the food, the health, and the life of his 
 soul ; as that which necessarily brings its own 
 pleasures, and, in a considerable degree, its own 
 reward, along with it; so that now, as David beau- 
 tifully expresses it. He openeth his mouth, and 
 pantctli, because he longs for God's commandments. 
 
 And I will add once more, the good man is also 
 made sensible of the place which faith and holiness 
 hold, in the scheme which God has laid, for our 
 justification before him, and our acceptance with 
 him. I do not say, that all Christians conceive of 
 this with equal perspicuity, or express their concep- 
 tions with equal exactness : the most candid allow- 
 ance should here be made for the different ideas 
 tliey fix to the same phrases, as they have been used 
 to look upon them with veneration, or with suspi- 
 cion. Hut this I will venture to say, because I am 
 persuaded the Scripture will bear me out in it, 
 " that the confidence of a regenerate soul is not 
 fixed on Iiis own holiness, or faith, as the meritori- 
 ous cause of his acceptance with God." He is 
 deeply and cordially sensible, that he is made 
 accepted in the Heloved ; and seeing nothing but 
 guilt, and weakness, and ruin in himself, he as- 
 cribes to the blessed Jesus, and to the riches of 
 (iod's free grace in him, his righteousness, his 
 strength, and his salvation. And where a man is 
 thus persuaded, I think he must, in efl'ect, believe, 
 even though he might scruple in words expressly to 
 own it, " that (Christ, as our great Surety, having 
 perfectly obeyed the law of (jod himself, and by 
 his blood having fully satisfied the divine justice 
 for the breach of it, we, on our believing in hiiu by 
 a vital faith, are justified before God by the impu- 
 tation of his perfect righteousness." This latter 
 way of stating it, when rightly explained, appears 
 j<ist equivalent to the former ; and it is a manner of 
 
711 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 oonceivintr and exprcssin-i it, which, when rightly 
 understood, seems extremely suitable to that deej) 
 humility, and poverty of spirit, to which the re- 
 newed soul is brought, when like a new-born babe, 
 it desires the sincere milk of the word, that it may 
 grow thereby. But as the mind, at such a time, 
 linds little iuelination to contend about words and 
 phrases, it would be much less proper for me to 
 enter into any controversy about them here. 
 
 Let it suHiee for the present, that I have given 
 you this plain representation of that change which 
 is wrought in a man's apprehensions, when he is 
 made a new creature. When old things are passed 
 away, he has new apprehensions of God, of him- 
 self, of Christ, of eternity, and of the way to obtain 
 the happiness of it ; and as at this happy time all 
 things are become new, there are " new allections, 
 new resolutions, new labours, new enjoyments, and 
 new hopes," which are the result of the change al- 
 ready described. But it will be much more dillicult 
 to reduce what I have to olTeron these heads within 
 the bounds of the next discourse, than proper to at- 
 tempt any of them in this. Go home, my friends, 
 and try yourselves by what you have already heard ; 
 and be assured, that if you are eondemned by this 
 part of the description, it is impossible you should 
 be approved by any that will follow; since they 
 have all their foundation in this. 
 
 SERMON -XXIV. 
 
 of the nature of regeneration, with respect 
 to the change it produces in men's affections, 
 resolutions, labours, enjoyments, and hopes. 
 
 2 Cor. v. 17. 
 
 Jf any man he in Christ, he is a new creature : ohl 
 thinys are passed away ; behold, all thinys are be- 
 come new. 
 
 Amono the various subjects which exercise the 
 thoughts and tongues of men, few are more talked 
 of than religion. But it is melancholy to think 
 how^ little it is understood, and how much it is 
 mistaken and misrepresented, in the world. The 
 text before us gives a very instructive view of it ; 
 such a view, that I am sure an experimental know- 
 ledge of its sense would be infinitely preferable to 
 the most critical and exact knowledge of all the 
 most curious passages, both of the Old Testament 
 and the New. From it, you know, I have begun to 
 describe that great change, which the word of God 
 teaches us to represent under the notion of regene- 
 ration, or, according to the language of St. Paul, 
 in this passage of his writings, by a new creation. 
 
 I know I am explaining it before many, who have 
 been much longer acquainted with it than myself ; 
 and, it l)econies mc to believe, before many that 
 have attained much higher advancements in it: but 
 I fear also, at the same time, I speak of it before 
 many who are yet strangers to it ; and 1 am labour- 
 ing, by the plainest addresses that I can, to give 
 them at least some just ideas of it. O that, to all 
 the descriptions that either have or shall be given, 
 God may, by his grace, add that understanding 
 which arises from feeling correspondent impressions 
 on the mind ! 
 
 I have already endeavoured to illustrate those 
 new apprehensions, which arise in the regenerate 
 mind ; apprehensions of the blessed God, of itself, 
 of Christ, of the eternal world, and of the way to 
 obtain the happiness of it. It now remains, that I 
 consider those "new aflections, resolutions, labours, 
 enjoyments, and hopes," which result from them, 
 I observe, therefore, 
 
 II. That these new apprehensions will be attended 
 with netv affections. 
 
 I readily acknowledge, that the degree in which 
 the affections operate may, and will be, diflferent 
 in different persons, according to their natural con- 
 stitution : but as, in some degree or another, they 
 make an essential j)art of our frame, it is impossible 
 but they must be impressed with a matter of such 
 infinite importance, as religion will appear. And 
 the apprehensions described above, must awaken 
 the exercise of correspondent affections, and direct 
 them to objects very different from those by M'hich 
 they were before excited, and on which they were 
 fixed. And here now, 
 
 1. This may be especially illustrated in love. 
 
 Love is indeed the ruling passion of the mind, 
 and has all the rest in an avowed and real subjec- 
 tion to it. And here lies the very root of human 
 misery in our fallen state : we are naturally lovers 
 of ourselves in a very irregular degree ; lovers of 
 pleasure more than lovers of God. But, on the 
 contrary, the first and great commandment of the 
 law is written in the breast of every regenerate 
 man : Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, witli all 
 thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
 mind. It is true indeed, that if his soul were per- 
 fectly delivered into this mould, and his attainments 
 in divine love were complete, there would be an 
 end of all sin, and almost of all calamity too ; for 
 what evil could assail or impress a mind entirely 
 and unchangca1)ly fixed upon God ? yet that the 
 love of God should be the prevailing affection, is 
 not merely a circumstance, but an essential part, of 
 true religion. While the good man sees him who 
 is invisible, as infinitely perfect in himself, and as 
 the Author of being and happiness to the whole 
 creation, he cannot but acknowledge, that he is, 
 beyond comparison, the most amiable of all objects. 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 715 
 
 And though it is certain, that nothing can so much 
 induce and inflame our love to God, as a well- 
 grounded assurance, that he is become our God, 
 and our Father in Christ ; yet before the regenerate 
 soul has attained to this, a sense of those favours 
 which he receives from God in common with the 
 whole human race, and more especially of those 
 which are inseparable from a Christian profession, 
 together with the apprehension of his being acces- 
 sible through a Mediator, and reconcilable to sin- 
 ful men, will diffuse some delightful sense of God 
 over the mind, which will grow sweeter in propor- 
 tion to the degree in which his own hopes brighten 
 and settle, while they are growing toward the full 
 assurance of faith. 
 
 And as the real Christian loves him that begat, 
 he loves him also that is begotten of him. He loves 
 the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, viewing him, 
 not in a cold and insensible manner, as he once did, 
 but with inflamed affections, as the chiefest among 
 ten thousand, and altogether lovely. If he knows 
 in any degree the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 in becoming incarnate for the salvation of his peo- 
 ple, in making himself a sacrifice for their sins, and 
 paying his life for the ransom of their lives ; he feels 
 himself drawn toward Jesus, tlius lifted up on fin- 
 cross ; and the love of Christ constrains him to 
 such a degree, that he longs to find out some ac- 
 ceptable method to express his inward and over- 
 bearing sense of it. How divided soever true Chris- 
 tians may be in other respects, they all agree in 
 this, in loving that Jesus whom they have not seen. 
 
 We may further recollect on this head, that the 
 apostle in a solemn manner adjures Christians by 
 the love of the Spirit, thereby plainly implying, 
 tliat such a love to him is an important branch of 
 their character ; and it must be so in all those who 
 regard him, as every regenerate soul does, as the 
 author of divine light and life, and as the source of 
 love and happiness, by whom this love of God is 
 shed abroad in the heart, while it is enlarged with 
 sacred delight to run the way of his command- 
 ments ; as that Spirit, by whom we are sealed to 
 the day of redemption, and who brings down the 
 foretastes of heaven to the heart in which he dwells, 
 and which, by his presence, he consecrates as the 
 temple of God. 
 
 And most natural is it, that w soul filled with 
 these impressions and views should overflow with 
 unutterable joy, and feeling itself thus happy in an 
 intercourse with its God, should be enlarged in love 
 to man ; for, says the apostle, ye are taught of God 
 to love one another. Those whom he apprehends 
 as his brethren by regenerating grace, he knows 
 are with him beloved of the Lord ; and as he hopes 
 to dwell with them for ever in glory, he must love 
 them so far as he knows them now. And though a 
 narrow education, and that bigotry which sometimes 
 
 conceals itself under very honourable and pious 
 names, may perhaps influence even a sanctified 
 heart, so far as to entertain unkind suspicions as to 
 those whose religious sentiments may differ from 
 his own, and it may be, to pass some rash censures 
 upon them ; yet, as his acquaintance with them in- 
 creases, and he discerns, under their different forms, 
 the traces of their common Father, his prejudices 
 wear off, and that sometimes by very sensible de- 
 grees ; and Christians receive one another, as 
 Christ has received them all. And where the good 
 man cannot love others with a love of complacency 
 and esteem, he at least beholds them with a love of 
 compassion and pity ; and remembers the relation 
 of fellow-creatures, \\ here he sees no reason to hope 
 that they are fellow-heirs with him. In a word, the 
 heart is melted down into tenderness ; it is warmed 
 with generous sentiments ; it loiigs for opportunities 
 of diffusing good of all kinds, both temporal and 
 spiritual, wide as its influence can reach ; it beats 
 with an ardour which sometimes painfully recoils 
 upon a man's self, for want of ability to help others 
 in pro])ortion to his desire to do it : and that God 
 who knows all the inmost workings of his mind, 
 hears many an importunate intercession for others 
 in the hours of solemn devotion, and many a com- 
 passionate ejaculation, which he is occasionally 
 sending up to heaven from time to time, as he passes 
 through so sinful and so calamitous a world. 
 
 These are the ruling affections in the heart of a 
 good man ; and though it is neither reasonable nor 
 possible, that he should entirely divest himself of 
 self-love, yet he endeavours to regulate it so, that 
 it may not interfere with the more important con- 
 sideration of general good. Self has the lowest 
 place in his regards, nor does he limit his afl'ection 
 to a party; but aiming at extensive usefulness, he 
 guards against those immoderate attachments to 
 particular friendships, and those extravagant sallies 
 of personal fondness, which are often no more than 
 self-love under a specious disguise ; whi(;li at once 
 alienale the heart from God, and contract the social 
 affections within very narrow, and those very irre- 
 gular, bounds; and so prove almost as fatal to the 
 health of the mind, as an excessive flow of blood 
 into one part would be to that of the body. 
 
 I have enlarged so copiously on this change in 
 the leading affection of the mind, that I must touch 
 in a more transient manner on the rest. I add, 
 therefore, 
 
 2. That a regenerate soul has new aversions. 
 
 He once hated knowledge, and did not choose 
 the fear of the Lord. He hated the light, which 
 disclosed to the aching eye of his conscience the 
 beloved and indulged irregularities of his heart. 
 Me hated every thing that laid an embargo upon 
 his lust ; and was ready to count those for his 
 enemies that plainly admonished him, and secretly 
 
716 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 to dislike tliose whose eondiict even silently re- 
 proved liini. IJiit now all these things are amiable 
 to him ; and those arc esteemed his most valuable 
 friends, whose examples may he most edifyinfj, 
 whose instructions may be most useful, and whose 
 admonitions may be most faithful. For ho now 
 hates every false way ; yea, and every vain thou<;lit 
 too. He looks upon every irregular desire as an 
 enemy, M hieh he longs utterly to subdue ; and 
 especially strives against that sin which docs most 
 easily beset him, and abhors it more than he ever 
 delighted in it. And though heTather pities than 
 hates the persons of the most wretched and mis- 
 chievous transgressors, yet he can no longer con- 
 tinue an endearing fricndsliip v\ ith those who were 
 once his seducers to sin, and his companions in it. 
 In this sense, like David, he liates tlic congrega- 
 tion of evil-doers, and will not sit with tlie wicked ; 
 and if they will not be wrought upon by his com- 
 passionate endeavours to reclaim them, he will soon 
 break off the intercourse, and say. Depart from me, 
 ye evil-doers, for I determine that I will keep the 
 commandments of my (Jod. 
 
 3. The regenerate man has also new desire.i. 
 There was a time, when sinful passions, as the 
 
 apostle expresses it, did work in his members to 
 bring forth fruit unto death. He was fulfilling the 
 desires of the flesh, and of the mind, and making 
 provision to fulfil the lusts of both. But now he 
 earnestly desires a conformity to God, as his highest 
 happiness ; and can look up to him, and say. " O 
 Lord, the desire of my soul is to thy name, and to 
 the remembrance of thee ; to maintain such a sense 
 of tJiy presence at all times, as may influence my 
 heart to think, my lips to speak, and my hands to 
 act, in a manner suitable to that remembrance, and 
 agreeable to thy wise and holy will." He now 
 hungers and thirsts after righteousness; feels as 
 real an appetite after more advanced degrees of 
 piety and holiness, as he ever felt towards the gra- 
 tification of his senses ; and esteems the proper 
 methods of attaining these advanced degrees, even 
 more than his necessary food. Instead of desiring 
 to run through a long course of animal enjoyments, 
 he desires to get above them ; longs to be a pure 
 and triumphant spirit in the refined regions of im- 
 mortality ; and is willing rather to be absent from 
 the body, and to be present with the Lord. 
 
 But I wave the further illustration of this, fill I 
 come to consider the new hopes which inspire him. 
 I therefore add, as a necessary consequence of these 
 new desires, 
 
 4. That the regenerate man has new fears. 
 Pain and sorrow, disappointment and afllietion, 
 
 he naturally feared ; and the forebodings of his own 
 mind would sometimes awaken the fears of future 
 punishment, according to the righteous judgment 
 of an offended God : but now he fears not merely 
 
 punishment, but guilt; fears the remonstrance of 
 an injured conscience ; for he reverences conscience 
 as God's vicegerent in his bosom. He therefore 
 fears the most secret sins, as well as those which 
 might occasion public disgrace ; yea, he fears, lest 
 by a precipitate and inconsiderate conduct he 
 should contract guilt before he is aware. He fears, 
 lest he should inadvertently injure and grieve 
 others, even the weakest and the meanest. He 
 fears using his liberty, in a manner that might 
 insnare his brethren, or might occasion any scandal 
 to a Christian profession : for such is the sensibility 
 of his heart in this respect, that he would be more 
 deeply concerned for the dishonour brought to God, 
 and the reproach which might be thrown on reli- 
 gion by any unsuitable conduct of his ; than merely 
 for that i)art of the shame that might immediately 
 and directly fall upon himself. But again, 
 
 .'). The regenerate man has new joys. 
 
 These arise chiefly from an intercourse with God 
 through .lesus Christ ; and from a review of him- 
 self, as under the sanctifying influences of his 
 grace, and as brought into a state of favour with 
 him, in proportion to the degree in which he can 
 discern himself in this character and state. 
 
 You know David, speaking of God, calls him his 
 exceeding joy ; and declares the gladness he had 
 put into his heart, by lifting up the light of his 
 countenance upon him, to he far beyond what they 
 could have, whose corn and wine increased. And 
 the apostle Paul speaks of Christians, as joying in 
 God through Jesus Christ, and as rejoicing in 
 Christ Jesus : and Peter also describes them as 
 those, who believing in him, thougli unseen, rejoice 
 with joy unspeakable, and full of glory. 
 
 Perhaps there was a lime, when the good man 
 censured all pretences of this kind, now at least in 
 these latter d.iys of Christianity, as an empty en- 
 thusiastic pretence : but since he has tasted that 
 the Lord is gracious, he has that experimental 
 knowledge of their reality and excellence, which 
 he can confidently oppose to all the most artful and 
 sophistical cavils; and could as soon doubt, 
 whether the sun enlightens his eyes, and warms his 
 body, as he could question, whether God has wayi 
 of manifesting himself to souls when it is felt with 
 unutterable delight : and when thus entertained, he 
 can adopt David's words, and say, that his soul is 
 satisfied as with marrow and fatness, so that with 
 joyful lips he praises God, when his meditation of 
 him is thus sweet, and God says unto his soul, I am 
 thy salvation. 
 
 The survey of the Lord Jesus Christ gives him 
 also unutterable joy ; while he reflects on that 
 ample provision, which God has made by him, for 
 the supply of all his necessities; and that firm se- 
 curity which is given to his soul by a believing 
 union with Christ, whereby his life is connected 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 717 
 
 with that of his Saviour. In his constant presence, 
 in his faithful care, he can boast all the day long, ; 
 and that friendship, which establishes a community 
 of interests between him and his Lord, engages him 
 to rejoice in that salvation and happiness, to which 
 he is advanced at the right hand of God, and gives 
 him, by joyful sympathy, his part with Christ in 
 glory, before he personally arrives at the full pos- 
 session of it. 
 
 I add, that he also rejoices in the consciousness 
 of God's gracious work upon his own soul, so far as 
 he can discern the traces of it there. He delights to 
 feel himself, as it were, cured of the mortal disease 
 with which he once saw himself infected ; to find 
 himself in health and vigour of mind, renewed to a 
 conformity with the divine image. He delights to 
 look inward, and see that transformation of soul 
 which has made the wilderness like the garden of 
 the Lord, so that instead of the thorn there shall 
 come up the fir-tree, and instead of the brier tiie 
 myrtle. Thus the good man is satisfied from him- 
 self; and tliough he humbly refers the ultimate 
 glory of all to that God, by whose grace he is what 
 he is, he enters w itli pleasure into his o\Vn mind, and 
 reckons it a part of gratitude to his great Bene- 
 factor, to enjoy with as high a relish as he can 
 the present workings of divine grace within him, 
 as well as the pleasing prospect of what it will 
 further do. 
 
 But this head has so near a resemblance to some 
 that are to follow, that were I to enlarge upon it, 
 as I easily might, I should leave room for nothing 
 diflerent to be said upon them. I will only add, 
 
 6. That as the counterpart of this, new sorrows 
 will arise in the mind of a regenerate man. 
 
 These arc particularly such as spring — from the 
 withdrawings of God's presence, — from the remain- 
 der of sin in the soul, — and from the prevalence of 
 it in the world about him. 
 
 The regenerate man will mourn, " when the re- 
 viving manifestations of God's presence arc with- 
 drawn from his soul." It seems very absurd to in- 
 terpret the numberless passages in the sacred 
 writers, in which they complain of the hidings of 
 God's face from them, as if they merely referred to 
 the want of temporal enjoyments, or to the pressure 
 of temporal calamities. If the light of God's 
 countenance, which they so expressly oppose to 
 temporal blessings, signify a spiritual enjoyment, 
 the want of it must relate to spiritual desertion. 
 And I believe there are few Christians in the world 
 who are entirely unacquainted with this. They 
 have most of them their seasons when they walk in 
 darkness, and see little or no light : and this, not 
 only when anxious fears arise with relation to their 
 own spiritual state ; but at some other times, when 
 though they can in the main call God their Father, 
 yet he seems as it were to stand afar oil, and to 
 
 continue them at a distance, which wears the face 
 of unkindness, especially under temptations and 
 other afflictions, in which they lose their lively 
 sense of God's presence, and that endearing free- 
 dom of converse with him, which, through the in- 
 fluence of the Spirit of adoption on their souls, 
 they have sometimes known. If this be mysterious 
 and unintelligible to some of you, I am heartily 
 sorry for it ; but I do not remember that I was ever 
 intimately acquainted with any one, who seemed to 
 nie a real Ciiristian, that has not, upon mentioning 
 the case, acknowledged, that he has felt something 
 of it : at least I w ill boldly venture to say this, that 
 if you are truly regenerate, and do not know what 
 I mean by it, it is because you have hitherto been 
 kept in a continual flow of holy joy, or at least in a 
 calm and cheerful persuasion of your interest in the 
 divine fa\our : and even such may see the day, 
 when, strong as their mountain seems to stand, God 
 may hide his face to their trouble : or, however, 
 they will infer from what they now feel, that it 
 must be a mournful case whenever it occurs ; and 
 that sorrow^ in such a circumstance, will soon 
 strike on a truly sanctified heart, and wound it very 
 deep. 
 
 The sorrow of a good man also arises " from the 
 remainder of sin in his soul." Though he is up- 
 right before God, and proves it by keeping himself 
 from his iniquity ; yet he cries out, Who can under- 
 stand his errors ? who can say, I have made my 
 heart clean, I am pure from my sin ? A sense of the 
 sinfulness of his nature humldes him in the dust ; 
 and the first risings of irregular inclinations and 
 passions give him a tender pain, with which a car- 
 nal heart is unacquainted, even when sin is domi- 
 neering within him. 
 
 And once more, " the prevalence of sin in the 
 world around him," is a grief to one that is born of 
 God. It pierces him to the heart to see men dis- 
 honouring God, and ruining themselves ; he beholds 
 transgressors, as David well expresses it, with a 
 mixture of indignation and sorrow ; and when he 
 seriously considers liow common, and yet how sad, 
 a case it is, he can perhaps borrow the words of the 
 same prophet, so far as to say, that rivers of waters 
 run down his eyes, because men keep not the law 
 of God. — Now, as these are sorrows that seldom do 
 at all affect the heart of an unregenerate man, I 
 thought it the more proper to mention them, to 
 assist you in your inquiries into your own state. 
 
 Such arc the afl'cctions of love and aversion, of 
 desire and fear, of joy and sorrow, which fill the 
 breast of the regenerate man, and naturally arise 
 from those new apprehensions which are described 
 under the former head. I add, 
 
 III. That he has also new resolutions. 
 
 You will easily apprehend I speak of those that 
 are formed for the service of God, and against sin. 
 
718 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 I readily ackiiow Icd^c, tliat there are often, in un- 
 regeneratc men, some resolutions of this kind, and 
 perhaps those very warm, and for the present very 
 sincere ; yet there is considerable difi'erencc be- 
 tween them and those we are now to represent ; as 
 the resolutions of the truly stood man arc more uni- 
 versal, — more innnediate, — and more luimhlc. 
 
 1. The resolutions which he now forms are more 
 universal than they ever were before. 
 
 He does not now resolve against this or that sin, 
 but against all ; against sin, as sin, as opposite to 
 the holiness of God, and destructive of the honour 
 and happiness of the rational creation. He does 
 not say, with Naaman, concerning this or that more 
 convenient ini(juity, Tiic Lord pardon thy servant in 
 this thing ; nor does he resolve to excuse liinisclf in 
 an indulgence, even to that sin which does most 
 easily beset him: but rather, in liis general deter- 
 mination against sin, and in those solemn engage- 
 ments with which such determinations may be at- 
 tended, he fixes especially upon those sins which 
 he might before have been most ready to except. 
 
 2. The resolutions of the regenerate man are more 
 immediate. 
 
 It very frequently happens, that while others are 
 under awakening impressions, as they see a neces- 
 sity for parting with their sins, and engaging in 
 what they may call a religious life, they resolve 
 upon it : but then they think it may be delayed a 
 little longer ; perhaps a few years, or at least a few 
 weeks or days ; or they, perhaps, refer it to some 
 remarkable period which is approaching, which 
 they Hatter themselves they shall make yet more re- 
 markable, as the era of their reformation ; but, in 
 the mean time, they will take their farewell of their 
 lusts by a few more indulgences: and thus they 
 delude themselves, and rivet on their chains faster 
 than before. But the good man, with David, makes 
 Iiaste, and delays not to keep the commandments of 
 God. He is like the prodigal, who, as soon as ever 
 he said, I will arise and go to my father, immedi- 
 ately arose and came to him. He reckons the time 
 be has already spent in the service of sin may suf- 
 fice, and that indeed it is far more than enough : 
 he wishes he could call back that which is past ; 
 but he determines that he will not take one step 
 further in this unhappy path. He fully purposes, 
 that he will never once more deliberately and pre- 
 sumptuously offend God, in any matter, great or 
 small ; if any thing can be called small, which is a 
 deliberate and apprehended oHence : and he deter- 
 mines, that from this moment he will yield himself 
 to God, as alive from the dead, and employ his 
 members as instruments of righteousness. But 
 then, 
 
 .3. His resolutions are more modest and humble 
 than they have ever been before. 
 
 And this indeed is the great circumstance that 
 
 renders them more effectual. — When an awakened 
 sinner feels himself most enslaved to his vices, he 
 pleases himself with this thought, that there is a 
 secret kind of spring in his mind, which when he 
 pleases to exert, he can break through all at once, 
 and commence, whenever that unhappy necessity 
 comes upon him, a very religious man in a moment. 
 And when conscience presses liini with the memory 
 of past guilt, and the representation of future dan- 
 ger, he cuts off these remonstrances with a hasty 
 resolve, " I will do so no more :" but then, perhaps, 
 the effect of this may not last a day ; though possibly 
 it may, at other times, continue a few weeks or 
 months, where the grosser acts of sin are concerned : 
 and indeed his resolutions seldom reach further than 
 these ; for the necessity of a sanctified heart is a 
 mystery which he has never yet learned. But a 
 truly regenerate man has learned wisdom from this 
 experience of his own, and the observation of other 
 men's, frailty. He feels his own weakness, and is so 
 thoroughly aware of the treachery of his own heart, 
 that he is almost afraid to express in words the pur- 
 pose which his very soul is forming ; he is almost 
 afraid to turn that purpose into a vow before God, 
 lest the breach of that vow should increase his 
 guilt ; but this he can say, with repenting Ephraim, 
 Lord, turn thou me, and I shall be turned ; and 
 with David, hold up my goings in thy paths, that my 
 footsteps may not slip. " I am exceeding frail ; 
 but. Lord, be thou surety for thy servant for good, 
 and then I shall be safe ! Do thou rescue me from 
 temptations, and I shall be delivered ! Do thou fill 
 my heart with holy sentiments, and I will breathe 
 them out before thee ! Do thou excite and main- 
 tain a zeal for thy service, and then I will exert 
 myself in it!" And when once a man is come to 
 such a distrust of himself ; when, like a little child, 
 he stretches out his hand to be led by his heavenly 
 Father, and trusts in his guardian care alone for 
 his security and comfort ; then out of weakness he 
 is made strong, and goes on safe, though perhaps 
 trembling ; and sees those that made the loudest 
 boasts, and placed the greatest confidence in them- 
 selves, falling on the right hand and on the left, and 
 all their bravery melting away like snow before the 
 sun. 
 
 IV. The regenerate man has neiv labours and 
 employments. 
 
 Not that his former employment in secular life is 
 laid aside : it would ordinarily be a very dangerous 
 snare for a man to imagine that God requires this. 
 On the contrary, the apostle gives it in charge to 
 Christian converts, that in what calling soever a 
 man is found, when he is called into the profession 
 of the gospel, he should therein abide with God. 
 But when he becomes a real Christian, he prosecutes 
 this calling, whatever it be, with a new spirit and 
 temper, from new principles, and to new purposes. 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 719 
 
 While his hands are labouring in the world, his 
 heart is often rising to God ; he consecrates his 
 work to the divine honour, and to the credit of re- 
 ligion ; and desires, that his merchandise and his 
 gain may in this sense be holiness to the Lord, by 
 employing it to support the family which Provi- 
 dence has committed to his charge, and to relieve 
 the poor which Christ recommends to his pity : and 
 as he depends upon God to give him wisdom and 
 success in the conduct of his affairs, he ascribes 
 the glory of that success to him ; " not sacrificing 
 to his own net, nor burning incense to his own 
 drag." 
 
 And I will further add, that regeneration intro- 
 duces a set of new labours, added to the former, 
 with which the man was before utterly unacquaint- 
 ed. — We may consider as the principal and chief 
 of these, the great labour of purifying the heart, 
 of conquering sinful inclinations and affections, 
 and of approaching God by a more intimate access 
 and more endeared converse. Now they that ima- 
 gine this to be an easy matter, know little of the 
 human heart, little of the spirituality of God's na- 
 ture and his law. Give me leave to say, that the 
 labours of the body, in cultivating the earth, are 
 much more easily performed than this spiritual 
 husbandry. To weed a soil so luxuriant in evil 
 productions, and to raise a plentiful liarvest of holy 
 affections and actions in a soil so barren of good ; 
 to regulate appetites and passions so exorbitant as 
 those of the human heart naturally are, and to 
 awaken in it suitable affections ; to be abundant in 
 the fruits of righteousness, and to converse with 
 God in the exercise of devotion : these are no little 
 things ; nor will a little resolution, watchfulness, 
 and activity, sullice, in order to the discharge of 
 such a business. It is comparatively easy to go 
 through the forms of prayer and praise, whatever 
 they are ; to read, or from present conception to 
 utter, a few words before God ; but to unite the 
 heart in God's service, to wrestle with him for a 
 blessing, to pour out the heart before him, to speak 
 to him as searching the very heart ; so that he should 
 say, " This is prayer ;" this, my breliiren, is a work 
 indeed ; and he that is conscientious in the dis- 
 charge of it will find, that it is not to be despatched 
 in a few hasty moments, nor without serious reflec- 
 tion, and a resolute watch maintained over the 
 spirit. 
 
 New labours also arise to the regenerate soul, in 
 consequence of the concern it has to promote re- 
 ligion in the world. — Being possessed, as I formerly 
 showed you the heart of the good man is, wilii un- 
 feigned love to his fellow-creatures, and knowing 
 of how great importance religion is to the happi- 
 ness of men, he pleads earnestly with God for the 
 propagation and success of the gospel ; and he en- 
 deavours, according to his ability and opportunity. 
 
 to promote it ; to promote pure and undefiled re- 
 ligion in his family and his neighbourhood, even in 
 all around him. And this requires observation and 
 application, that this attempt may be prudently 
 conducted, and great resolution, in order to its be- 
 ing rendered effectual : it requires great diligence 
 in watching over ourselves, lest our examples prove 
 inconsistent with our precepts ; and no small degree 
 of courage, considering how averse the generality 
 of mankind are to admonitions and reproofs ; in 
 consequence of which, a person can hardly act the 
 part of a faitliful friend without exposing himself 
 to the hazard of being accounted an enemy. 
 
 Such are the new labours of the real Christian : 
 let any man try to perform them, and he will not 
 find them light : but to encourage the attempt, let 
 me further add, 
 
 V. That the regenerate soul has its iiew entcr- 
 tninmcnts too. 
 
 He has pleasures, which a stranger intermeddles 
 not with, and which the world can neither give, nor 
 take away : pleasures, which a thousand times 
 overbalance the most painful labours, and the most 
 painful sufferings too; and which sweetly mingling 
 themselves Svith the various circumstances of life, 
 through which the Christian passes, do, as it were, 
 gild all the scene, and make all the fatigues and 
 self-denial of his life far more agreeable, than any 
 of those delights the worldling, or the sensualist, 
 can find in the midst of his unbounded and studied 
 indulgences. — But here I shall be in great danger 
 of repeating what I said under a former head, when 
 I was speaking of the new joys which the Chris- 
 tian feels, in consequence of the great change that 
 regeneration makes in his soul: and therefore, 
 omitting what I then observed, concerning the 
 pleasure of communion with God through Christ, 
 and of perceiving a work of divine grace upon the 
 soul, I shall now touch upon some other sources of 
 exalted entertainment, which did not so directly 
 fall under that head. 
 
 1. The Christian finds new pleasures in the word 
 of God. 
 
 You know with what relish the saints of old 
 spake of it. " Thy words were found," says the 
 prophet, " and I did eat them ; and thy word was 
 unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart." " Thy 
 statutes," says the Psalmist, " are more to be de- 
 sired than gold, yea, than much fine gold ; they 
 arc sweeter also than honey, and the honeycomb." — 
 The apostle Peter beautifully represents this, when 
 he exhorts the saints to whom he wrote, as new- 
 born babes to desire the sincere milk of the word, 
 that they might grow thereby. And the infant that 
 smiles on the breast, and with such eagerness and 
 delight draws its nourishment from it, seems an 
 amiable image of the humble Christian, who re- 
 ceives the kingdom of God, and the word of that 
 
7-20 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 kin|;iloni, as a litllc child; who lays up Scripture 
 in his heart, and draws forth the sweetness of it, 
 with a firm persuasion, that it is indeed the word 
 of God, and was appointed by liim for tlie food of 
 his soul. 
 
 2. He also finds new pleasu7-cs in the ordinances 
 of divine worsliip. 
 
 lie is };lad w lien it is said unto liini, Let us go 
 into the house of the Lord. lie indeed esteems tiie 
 tabernacles of the Lord as amiable, and resiards a 
 day in his courts as better tiian a thousand else- 
 where. — And this pleasure arises, not merely from 
 any thing peculiar in the administrations of tins or 
 that man wlio olliciatcs in holy thins^s ; but from 
 the nature of the exercise in general, and from a 
 regard to the divine authority of those institutions 
 which are there observed. He feels a sacred de- 
 light in an intercourse with God in those solenmi- 
 ties ; in comparison of which, all the graces of 
 composition and delivery appear as little as the 
 harmony of instruments, or the perfume of incense, 
 to one of the Old-Testament saints, when compared 
 with the light of God's countenance, which was 
 lifted up on the pious worsliipper under tlie Mo- 
 saic forms, when in bis temple every one spake of 
 his glory. One thing has he desired of the Lord, 
 and that he seeks after, that he may dwell in the 
 house of the Lord all the days of his life ; not to 
 amuse his vain imagination, not to gratify his ear, 
 not to indulge his curiosity with useless inquiries, 
 nor merely to exercise his understanding with sub- 
 lime speculations ; but to Itehold the beauty of the 
 Lord, and to inquire in his temple. 
 
 3. He likewise finds a new entertainment in the 
 conversation of Christian friends. 
 
 He now knows what it is to have fellowship with 
 those whose communion is with the Father, and 
 with his Son Jesus Christ. His delight is now in 
 them that are truly the excellent of tlie earth. He 
 delights to dismiss the usual topics of modern con- 
 versation, that some religious subject may be as- 
 sumed, not as matter of dispute, but as matter of 
 devout recollection ; and loves to hear the plainest 
 Christian express his experimental sense of divine 
 things. Those sentiments of piety and love, which 
 come warm from a gracious heart, are always 
 pleasing to him ; and those appear the dearest 
 bands of friendship, wliich may draw him nearer to 
 his heavcidy Father, and unite his soul in ties of 
 more ardent love to his Redeemer. A society of 
 such friends is indeed a kind of anticipation of 
 heaven; and to choose and delight in such, is no 
 contemptible token, that the soul has attained to 
 some considerable degree of preparation for it. I 
 only add, 
 
 \ I. That in consequence of all this, the regene- 
 rate soul has new hopes and prospects. 
 Men might be very much assisted in judging of 
 
 their true state, if they would seriously refiect what 
 it is they hope and wish for .' what are those expec- 
 tations and desires that most strongly impress their 
 minds? A vain mortal, untaught and unchanged by 
 divine grace, is always dressing up to himself some 
 emi)ty phantom of earthly happiness, which he 
 looks after and jjursues ; and foolishly imagines, 
 " could 1 grasp it, and keep it, [ should be happy." 
 But divine grace teaches the real (Jluistiau to give 
 up these empty schemes : " God," does he say, 
 " never intended this world for my happiness: he 
 will make it tolerable to me ; he will give me so 
 much of it as he sees consistent with my highest in- 
 terest ; he will enable me to derive instruction, and 
 it may be consolation, out of its disappointments 
 and distresses : but he reserves my inheritance for 
 tlie eternal world. I am begotten again to a lively 
 hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the 
 dead, even to the hope of an inheritance incorrupti- 
 ble, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away : and 
 though it be, for the present, reserved in heaven, it 
 is so safe, and so great, that it is well worth my 
 waiting for, though ever so long ; for the things that 
 are not seen are eternal." And this indeed is the 
 true character of a good man. Eternity tills his 
 thoughts; and growing sensible, in another manner 
 than he ever was before, of the iniporfance of it, he 
 pants for the enjoyment of eternal happiness. As- 
 sign any limited duration to his enjoyment of God 
 in the regions of glory, and you would overwhelm 
 him with disappointment : talk of hundreds, of 
 thousands, of millions of years, the disappointment 
 is almost equal : periods like these seem scarce 
 distinguishable from each other, when compared 
 with an eternal hope. To eternity his desires and 
 expectations arc raised ; and he can be contented 
 with nothing less than eternity : perfect holiness 
 and perfect happiness for ever and ever, without 
 any mixture of sin, or any allay of sorrow ; this he 
 firmly expects, this he ardently breathes after; a 
 felicity which an immortal soul shall never outlive, 
 and which an eternal God shall never cease to com- 
 municate. This heavenly country he seeks ; he 
 considers himself as a citizen of it, and endeavours 
 to maintain his conversation there ; to carry on, as 
 it were, a daily trade for heaven, and to lay up a 
 treasure there ; in which he may be rich and great, 
 when all the pomp of this earth is passed away as 
 a dream, and all its most precious metals and gems 
 are melted down and consumed among its vilest 
 materials in the last universal burning. 
 
 This is tiie change, the glorious change, v^hich 
 regeneration makes in a man's character and views: 
 and who shall dare to speak, or to think, contempti- 
 bly of it .' Were we indeed to represent it as a kind 
 of charm, depending on an external ceremony, 
 which it was the peculiar prerogative of a certain 
 order of men to perform, and yet on which eternal 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 721 
 
 life was suspended ; one might easily apprehend 
 that it would be brought into much suspicion. Or 
 should we place it in any mechanical transports of 
 animal nature, in any blind impulse, in any strong 
 feelings, not to be described, or accounted for, or 
 argued upon, but known by some inward inexplica- 
 ble sensation to be divine ; we could not wonder, if 
 calm and prudent men were slow to admit the pre- 
 tension to it, and were fearful it might end in the 
 most dangerous enthusiasm, made impious by exces- 
 sive appearances of piety. — But when it is deli- 
 neated by such fair and bright characters as those 
 that have now been drawn ; when these divine 
 lineaments on the so:;l, by which it bears the image 
 of its Maker's rectitude and sanctity, are considered 
 as its necessary consequence, or rather as its very 
 essence ; one would imagine, that every rational 
 creature, instead of cavilling at it, should pay an 
 immediate homage to it, and earnestly desire, and 
 labour, and pray, to experience the change : espe- 
 cially as it is a change so desirable for itself ; as 
 we acknowledge health to be, though a man were 
 not to be rewarded for being well, nor punished, 
 any further than with the malady he contracts, for 
 any negligence in this respect. 
 
 Wliere is there any thing can be more ornamental 
 to our natures, than to have all the powers of the 
 mind thus changed by grace, and our pursuits di- 
 rected to such objects as are worthy of the best 
 attention and regard? — To have our apprehensions 
 of divine and spiritual things enlarged, and to have 
 right conceptions of the most important matters ; — 
 to have the stream of our affections turned from 
 empty vanities, to objects that are proper to excite 
 and fix them ; — to have our resolutions set against 
 all sin, and a full purpose formed within us of an 
 immediate reformation and return to God, with a 
 dependence on his grace to help us both to will and 
 to do ; — to have our labours stedfastly applied, to 
 conquer sin, and to promote religion in ourselves 
 and others ; — to have our entertainments founded in 
 a religious life, and flowing in upon us from the 
 sweet intercourse we have with God in his word 
 and ordinances, and the drlightful conversation 
 that we sometimes have with Christian friends ; — 
 and finally, to have our hopes drawn oil' from earthly 
 things, and fixed upon eternity ?— Where is there 
 any thing can be more honourable to us, than thus 
 to be renewed after the image of him that created 
 us, and to put on the new man, which after God is 
 created in righteousness and true holiness ? — and 
 where is any thing that can be more desirable, than 
 thus to have the darkness of our understandings 
 cured, and the disorders reclined that sin liad 
 brought upon our nature ? Who is there that is so 
 insensible of his depravity, as that he would not 
 long for such a happy change ? Or who is there 
 that knows how excellent a work it is. to be tran.s- 
 .•3 A 
 
 formed by the renewing of the mind, that would 
 not, with the greatest thankfulness, adore the riches 
 of divine grace, if it appear that he is thus become 
 a new creature ; that " old things are passed away, 
 and behold all things are become new ?" 
 
 But I shall quickly show you, that regeneration 
 is not only ornamental, honourable, and desirable, 
 but absolutely necessary, as ever we would hope to 
 share the blessings of God's heavenly kingdom, and 
 to escape the horror of those that are finally and 
 irrevocably excluded from it. This argument will 
 employ several succeeding discourses ; but I would 
 dismiss you at present with an earnest request, that 
 you would, in the mean time, renew your inquiries, 
 as to the truth of regeneration in your own souls ; 
 which, after all that I have been saying, it will be 
 very inexcusable for you to neglect, as probably 
 you will hear few discourses, in the whole course 
 of your lives, which centre more directly in tliis 
 point, or are more industriovisly calculated to give 
 you the safest and clearest assistance in it. May 
 God abase the arrogance and presumption of every 
 self-deceiving sinner; and awaken the confidence 
 and joy of the feeblest soul, in whom this new 
 creation is begun ! 
 
 SERMON XXV. 
 
 THE NECESSITY OF REGENEllATIOiV ARGUED, FROM 
 THE IMMUTABLE CONSTITUTION OF GOD. 
 
 John iii. .3. 
 
 Jesus answered and said unto hint. Verily, verili/, I 
 say unto thee, Except a man he horn aejain, he can- 
 not see the kinydom of God. 
 
 Whilf. the ministers of Christ are discoursing of 
 such a subject as I have before mc in the course of 
 these Lectures, and particularly in this branch of 
 them which I am now entering upon, we may 
 surely, with the utmost reason, address our hearers 
 in those words of Moses to Israel, in the conclusion 
 of his dying discourse : Set your hearts unto all th(! 
 words which I testify among you this day, which 
 ye sliall command your children to observe and do, 
 even all the words of this law ; for it is not a vain 
 thing for you, because it is your life. That must 
 undoubtedly be your life, concerning which the 
 Lord .Jesus Christ himself, the incarnate wisdom of 
 (Jod, the faithful and true witness, has said, and 
 said it with a solemn repeated asseveration, that 
 without it a man cannot see the kingdom of God. 
 
 The occasion of his saying it deserves our notice ; 
 though the niceties of the context must be waved in 
 
722 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 such a series of sermons as this. He said it to a 
 Jew of considerable rank, and, as it appears, one 
 of the prand Sanhedrim, or chief council of the 
 nation : who came not only for liis own private satis- 
 faction, but in the name of several of his bretliren, 
 to discourse with Christ concerning his doctrine, at 
 the first passovcr he attended at Jerusalem, after lie 
 liad entered on his public ministry. Our Lord 
 would, to be sure, be (icculiarly careful what answer 
 he returned to such an inquiry : and this is liis 
 answer. Verily, verily, I say unto thee. Except a 
 man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of 
 God : as if he should have said, " If the princes of 
 Israel inquire after my character, let them know 
 that I came to be a preacher of regeneration ; and 
 that the blessings of that kingdom which I am 
 come to reveal and erect, are to be peculiar to 
 renev.ed and sanctified souls ; wlio may, by an easy 
 and nattzral figure, be said to he born again." And 
 the figure appears very intelligible, and very in- 
 structive to those that will seriously consider it; 
 and might lead us into a variety of pertinent and 
 useful remarks. 
 
 You easily perceive, that to be born again must 
 intimate a very groat change ; coming, as it were, 
 into a new world, as an infant does ; when, after 
 having lived awhile a kind of vegetative life in the 
 darkness and confinement of the womb, it is born 
 into open day ; feels the vital air rushing in on its 
 lungs, and light forcing itself upon the awakened 
 eyes; hears sounds before unknown; opens its 
 mouth to receive a yet untasted food, and every day 
 becomes acquainted with new objects, and exerts 
 new powers, till it grows up to the maturity of a 
 perfect man. Such, and in some respects greater 
 and nobler tlian this, is the change which regenera- 
 tion makes in a heart before unacquainted with 
 religion ; as you may have seen at large from the 
 preceding discourses. 
 
 But I might further observe, t!;at the phrase in 
 the text may also express the humbling nature of 
 this change, as well as the greatness of it. Erasmus 
 gi\ es this turn to tlie words ; and it is so edifying, 
 that I should have mentioned it at least, though I 
 had not thought it so just as it appears. To be 
 born again must signify, to become as a little child ; 
 and our Lord expressly and frequently assures us, 
 that without this we cannot enter into the kingdom 
 of lieaven. He has pronounced the very first of his 
 blessings on poverty of spirit ; and where this is 
 wanting the soul will never be entitled to the rest. 
 A mild and hunildc, a docile and tractable, temper, 
 a freedom from avarice and ambition, and an indif- 
 ference to those great toys of which men are gene- 
 rally so fond, are all essential parts of the Christian 
 charaeler ; and they have all, in one view or 
 another, been touched upon in the preceding dis- 
 courses. Lvt it be forgiven, however, if, consider- 
 
 ing the importance of the case, you are told again, 
 that in malice ye must be children ; and that, if any 
 man think himself wise, he must become a child, 
 and even a fool, that he may be wise indeed. 
 
 I might observe once more, that the.se words inti- 
 mate the divine power, by which this great and 
 humbling cliange is eflTecled. Our (irst formation 
 and birtli is the work of God, and no less really .so 
 in the succeeding generations of men, than the first 
 production of Adam was, when God formed him of 
 the dust of the earth, and breathed into his nostrils 
 the breath of life. We may each of us say, with 
 respect to the natural birth, and in an accommo- 
 dated sense witli respect to the spiritual too, " thine 
 eyes did see my substance, being as yet imperfect, 
 and in (hy book all my members, which in continu- 
 ance of time were fashioned, were written, when as 
 yet there was none of them." All the first gracious 
 impressions that were made upon the mind, and all 
 the gradual advances of them, till Christ was formed 
 in the heart, and the new creature animated, must 
 (as I shall hereafter show at large) be ultimately 
 and principally referred into a divine operation ; 
 and in this sense, it is God that brings every good 
 purpose in the mind to the birth, and God that gives 
 strength to bring forth. 
 
 But I omit the further prosecution of these re- 
 marks at present, because they coincide with what 
 I have said in former discourses, or what will occur 
 in those which are yet to come: and shall only 
 further consider the words, as they are a confirma- 
 tion of, and therefore a proper introduction to, 
 what I am to lay before you under the third general 
 head of these discourses ; in which (as I have al- 
 ready shown, who may be said to be in an unre- 
 generate state, and how great that change is 
 which regeneration makes in the soul) I shall now 
 proceed. 
 
 Thirdly, To show the high importance, yea, the 
 absolute necessity, of this change. 
 
 Our Lord expresses it in a very lively and awak- 
 ening manner, in these few determinate words, 
 which are here before us : Verily, verily, I say unto 
 thee. Except a man be born again, he cannot see the 
 kingdom of God. You see how emphatical the 
 words are: he who is himself invariable truth, the 
 same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, repeats it 
 again and again, with as much solemnity as he ever 
 uses upon any occasion ; repeats it to us, as he did 
 to Nicodemus, " Verily, verily, I say unto you, that 
 is, I seriously deliver it as a truth of infinite mo- 
 ment ; Except a man, i. e. any man, whatever his 
 profession, whatever his knowledge, or whatever 
 his privileges may be ; though he be a Jew, though 
 he be a Pharisee, though he be as thou Nicodemus 
 art, a ruler or a senator ; except he be born again, 
 and have that great change, so often described in 
 the word of God, wrought by the operation of the 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 723 
 
 Spirit in his mind, lie cannot see the Icingdom of 
 God : he cannot by any means approach it, so as to 
 enter into it. or have any share in the important 
 blessinofs which it contains." 
 
 That we may more fully understand, and enter 
 into, this weighty argument, I shall from these 
 words, 
 
 I. Briefly consider, what it is to see the kingdom 
 of God. 
 
 II. Show how absolutely impossible it is, that 
 any unrcgenerate man should see it. And, 
 
 III. How wretched a thing it is to be deprived of 
 the sight and enjoyment of it. 
 
 And I am well persuaded, that if you diligently 
 attend to these things, you will be inwardly and 
 powerfully convinced, that no argument could be 
 more proper to demonstrate the importance and ne- 
 cessity of regeneration, than this, which our Lord 
 has suggested in these awful, emphatical, and com- 
 prehensive words. 
 
 I. I am to show you what it is to see the kingdom 
 of God. 
 
 And for the explication of it, it will be necessary 
 to consider, — what we are to understand by this 
 kingdom, — and what is meant by seeing it. 
 
 [1.] I would show you what we are to understand 
 by the kingdom of God. 
 
 And you will pardon me if I state the matter 
 pretty largely ; because the phrase is used in Scrip- 
 ture in different senses ; and the true interpreta- 
 tion of many passages in it depends on a proper 
 distinction between them. You may observe then 
 for the explication of this phrase, — that the king- 
 dom of God in general signifies " the society of 
 those who profess themselves tlie servants an'l sub- 
 jects of Christ ;" and in consequence of this, — that 
 there are some passages, in which it peculiarly re- 
 lates to " the imperfect dispensation of *liis king- 
 dom, and the beginning of it in the world ;" — and 
 others, in which it relates to " the more perfect 
 form, which this society is to bear in the world of 
 glory." 
 
 1. The kingdom of God, or the kingdom of 
 heaven, (for they are synonymous phrases,) does in 
 the general signify "the society of those who pro- 
 fess themselves the servants and subjects of Christ." 
 
 You well know this was a phrase used among the 
 Jews ; and therefore the original of it is to be 
 traced from the Old Testament : and I apprehend 
 j it to be this : — Almost every Christian is aware, that 
 j in the early days of the Jewish commonwealth, as 
 Samuel with great propriety expresses it, God wa.s 
 their king. Jehovah was not only the great object 
 of their religious regard, as the creator and sup- 
 porter of the whole world; but he was also their 
 supreme civil magistrate, settling the forms of their 
 political government, and reserving to himself some 
 of the chief acts of royal authority. Tliey did in- 
 .3 A 2 
 
 deed afterwards desire another king, like the other 
 nations round about them. But still those kings 
 being appointed by God, were indeed to be looked 
 upon as no other than his vicegerents, though ano- 
 ther kind of governors than he had originally in- 
 stituted. By degrees their peculiar regard to the 
 civil authority of God among them, as well as to his 
 religious authority, which was nearly connected 
 with it, in a great measure wore out; and their 
 government went through a great many difl'erent 
 forms, which it would be unnecessary here particu- 
 larly to describe. Nevertheless God was pleased to 
 declare by king David, and by many others of his 
 holy prophets, that he would in due time interpose to 
 erect another, and a far more extensive, kingdom in 
 the world : not indeed upon the same political 
 principles, with that which he exercised over the 
 Jews; which principles would by no means have 
 suited this extensive design: but it should be a 
 kingdom in which the authority of the God of 
 heaven should be acknowledged, and his laws of 
 universal righteousness observed with greater care, 
 and to nobler purposes, as well as by a vastly greater 
 number of subjects, than ever before. This king- 
 dom he determined to commit to the government of 
 the Messiah, who with regard to this was called the 
 Lord's Anointed, his King wliom he set upon his 
 iioly hill of Zion ; and to whom indeed he would 
 give all power, not only on earth but in heaven too ; 
 so that having trained up his subjects here, in the 
 discipline of holiness and obedience, he should at 
 length translate them to another and abetter coun- 
 try, that is, a heavenly, where they should see his 
 glory, and should reign with him in eternal life. 
 
 This plainly appears from the whole tenor of the 
 Old and New Testament, to have been the grand 
 plan of God, with respect to the Messiah's kingdom : 
 and you will easily sec, that coming from God as 
 its great Author, and referring to him as its end, it 
 may, with great propriety, be called the kingdom of 
 God ; and ultimately terminating in the heavenly 
 state, it may also properly be called the kingdom of 
 heaven. These were phrases which prevailed in 
 the Jewish nation, before Christ or his immediate 
 forerunner appeared : and indeed they were used 
 by Daniel in a very remarkable manner, which 
 probably made them so familiar to the Jews, who 
 had some peculiar reasons for studying his writ- 
 ings, even more than those of some other prophets. 
 After that prophet had foretold the rise and fall of 
 several great empires of the world, he adds, and in 
 the days of these last kings (i. e. ol' the Romansj 
 shall tiie God of heaven set up a kingdom which 
 shall not be destroyed, — but shall stand for ever. 
 And the person whom the Ancient of days, i. e. the 
 eternal and ever-blessed God, should fix on the 
 throne of this kingdom, from his appearing in the 
 human nature, is called the Son of man 1 saw jij 
 
724 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 the night visions, ami bcliold, one like llic Son of 
 man came with tlie clouds of heaven, and came to 
 the Ancient of days, and they bronglit him near 
 before him ; and there was given liim dominion, 
 and glory, and a kingdom, that all i)eopIe, nations, 
 and languages, should serve him : his dominion is 
 an everlasting dominion, wliich shall not pass away, 
 and his kingdom that wiiich shall not be destroyed. 
 
 In allusion to tliis, wlien our Lord Jesus Christ 
 appeared, he called himself tlic Son of man: and 
 be particularly used this piirasc, and it was ex- 
 ceedingly proper that he should, in this conference 
 with Nicoderaus, again and again. And all those 
 who being convinced of the divine commission he 
 bore, submitted themselves to him, might in this 
 respect be said, to enter into the kingdom of God, 
 or of heaven ; that is, into the society whicli had so 
 long been foretold and expected under tliat title. 
 This kingdom, as the above-mentioned prophecy 
 declared, was to be raised from very low begin- 
 nings, under the personal ministry of Christ and 
 his apostles, till at last it should extend through 
 very distant regions of the world, and kings and 
 princes should submit themselves to it, and reckon 
 it their glory to enrol themselves among his sub- 
 jects. 
 
 Agreeable to this meaning of the phrase, and to 
 this view with respect to the establishment of his 
 kingdom, our Lord opened his ministry w ith preach- 
 ing, as John the Baptist had done, the kingdom of 
 heaven. And you will see, that in most places of 
 the gospel, where the phrase occurs, it is to be 
 taken in this sense. Thus our Lord says. Blessed 
 are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of 
 heaven ; i. e. they are fit to be members of this 
 society, and to receive the blessings of it. Seek 
 first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness ; 
 i. e. labour to serve the interest of this society that 
 I am erecting, and to obtain and promote that right- 
 eousness which it recommends, and is intended to 
 establish in the world. And again. Suffer little 
 children to come unto me, and forbid them not ; 
 for of such is the kingdom of God : persons with 
 such a disposition are most fit to become my sub- 
 jects, and to enter into this holy and spiritual 
 soeiet}'. And when our Lord says to the Pharisees, 
 publicans and harlots go into the kingdom of God 
 before you ; he means, no doubt, they are more 
 ready than you to join themselves to the society of 
 those who profess themselves my subjects. And 
 once more, w hen he speaks of some who chose the 
 severities of a single life, that with less entangle- 
 ments they might serve the interests of his church, 
 he expresses it, l)y their making themselves eunuchs 
 for the kingdom of heaven's sake. 
 
 1 shall only add, that the phrase, by a near con- 
 nexion with this sense, sometimes signifies the 
 charter of this society, or the privileges which it 
 
 affords to its members ; as when our Lord says, 
 •' Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God 
 as a little child, shall in nowise enter therein." 
 
 This then is the general sense of this j)hrase: it 
 sif^nifies " the society of those who should submit 
 themselves to the government of Christ, as appointed 
 by God to rule over them ; who are thereby to be 
 considered as God's people and subjects." In con- 
 se(iuencc of this vou will easily apprehend, 
 
 2. That it comprehends " the more imperfect 
 dispensation, under which the members of this 
 society are, during their abode in the present world." 
 
 All that passes here is indeed but the opening of 
 Christ's kingdom : nevertheless, the phrase does 
 sometimes more particularly refer to this opening ; 
 and there are several passages, in which it would 
 be apparently absurd to suppose it comprehended 
 the glories of the invisible state, to whicli Christ 
 intended finally to conduct his faithful servants. 
 Thus our Lord tells the Pharisees, The kingdom of 
 God is come unto you, i. e. that gracious dispensa- 
 tion under the IMessiah, by which God is gathering 
 subjects to his Son. And elsewhere he says to them. 
 The kingdom of God cometh not with observation, 
 (. e. not with such outward show and grandeur as 
 you expect ; but behold, it is within, or, (as it might 
 be rendered,) among you : God has begun to open 
 and establish it, though you know it not; and has 
 actually brought many poor sinners into it, whom 
 you proudly deride as ignorant and accursed. Thus 
 also, when our Lord says to Peter, I will give unto 
 thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven, it would 
 be most absurd to suppose, he meant to grant to 
 him the power of admitting into, or excluding from, 
 the w orld of glory : but the plain meaning is, that 
 he should bear a distinguished ofiice in the church 
 upon earth, and be the means of admitting Jews 
 and Gentiles into it. Here, as in many other in- 
 stances, the kingdom of God, or of heaven, means 
 much the same w ith the professing church of Christ, 
 during its settlement in this imperfect state: as it 
 undoubtedly does, when Christ threatens his hearers, 
 that the kingdom of God should be taken away 
 from them : and when he represents it, as consist- 
 ing of good and bad, of tares and wheat; but de- 
 clares, that at (he last day he will gather out of his 
 kingdom all things that ofl'end, and them that do 
 iniquity ; whereas nothing of that kind shall ever 
 enter into the kingdom of glory. But yet, 
 
 3. It ultimately relates to " the more perfect form 
 and state of this society in the kingdom of glory." 
 
 You very well know, that the design of God in 
 his gospel w as not to establish a temporal kingdom, 
 as the Jews expected ; nor merely to form a body 
 of men, who should live upon earth with some pecu- 
 liar fonns of worship, under very excellent rules, 
 and with distinguished privileges of a spiritual 
 nature; but that all these ultimately referred to the 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 725 
 
 invisible world. Thither the Son of man was re- 
 moved, when be bad finished his labour and sufler- 
 ings upon earth ; and thither all the true and faithful 
 members of the kingdom were sooner or later to be 
 brought, and there were to have their final settle- 
 ment and everlasting abode, in a far more splendid 
 and happj' state, than the greatest monarch on 
 earth has ever known : they shall there, as the 
 apostle most properly expresses it, reign in life by 
 Jesus Christ. Now as the kingdom of God upon 
 earth is to be considered with a leading view to 
 this, so we sometimes find, that this glorious state 
 of its members, or (which will come much to the 
 same thing) the society of the faithful in this glori- 
 ous state, is, by way of eminence, called the king- 
 dom of God : and with regard to this, they whose 
 characters are such that they shall be excluded from 
 thence, are represented as having no part in tlie 
 kingdom of heaven, though they have been by pro- 
 fession members of the church of Christ on earth. 
 Of this you have a remarkable instance, where our 
 Lord says, Not every one that saith unto me, Lord. 
 Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but 
 he that doth the will of my Father which is in 
 heaven : now it was calling Christ, Lord, or pro- 
 fessing a regard to him as a divine teacher and 
 governor, which was the very circumstance that 
 distinguished the members of his kingdom on earth 
 from the rest of mankind ; yet as they who do this 
 insincerely shall be excluded from final glory, it is 
 said, they shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. 
 So also the apostle tells us, that flesh and blood, 
 «. e. such gross machines of animal nature as those 
 in which we now dwell, cannot inherit the kingdom 
 of God, they cannot dwell in so pure a region ; and 
 therefore it is necessary, that before they enter upon 
 it, those who are found alive at the illustrious day 
 of Christ's appearance, should undergo a miraculous 
 change to fit them for such an abode. In reference 
 to this we are likewise told, that then, j. e. at the 
 great resurrection-day, the righteous shall shine 
 forth asthe sun in the kingdom of their Father. And 
 this is what our Lord most certainly had in view, 
 when he tells the impenitent Jews, that there shoul ! 
 be weeping and gnashing of teeth, vvhen they should 
 see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the 
 prophets, in the kingdom of God, and they them- 
 selves thrust out ; which could not be meant of the 
 privileges of the Christian church upon earth, in 
 which the patriarchs had no share ; nor did the 
 Jews at all envy those professing Christians, who 
 most evidently had : it must undoubtedly therefore 
 be numbered among those passages, in which the 
 kingdom of heaven chiclly refers to the state of 
 glory. And I apprehend, the text here before us may 
 be added to that catalogue ; which leads us to show, 
 [2.] Wliat we are to understand by seeing the 
 kingdom of God. 
 
 Now, in general, you will easily apprehend, that 
 to see the kingdom is to enjoy the blessings of it. — 
 There is no need of enumerating many passages of 
 Scripture, where to see properly signifies to enjoj'. 
 This is apparently the sense of it, when Christ de- 
 clares. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall 
 see God : for the Deity cannot be an object of 
 sight ; but the promise is, that such souls, (O that 
 we may be in their number!) shall for ever enjoy 
 the most delightful communications from him. 
 And thus again we are to understand it, where it is 
 said, What man is he that desireth life, and loveth 
 many days, that he may see, t. e. that he may enjoy, 
 good ? for otherwise, to see it without enjoying it, 
 would be a great aggravation of misery and dis- 
 tress. And in this sense it is most evident, that 
 seeing the kingdom of God must here be put, for 
 enjoying the chief and most important blessings 
 appropriated to this happy state ; because, as I 
 have just been observing, condemned sinners are 
 represented in another sense, as seeing that king- 
 dom, and the glorified saints in it; but viewing it 
 only at an unapproachable distance, as a specty.cle 
 that fills them with horror and despair. 
 
 This therefore is, upon the whole, the meaning of 
 this passage: "that no unregenerate soul shall 
 finally have any part in the glory and happiness 
 which Christ has prepared for his faithful subjects; 
 nor can any that appear to be such, according to the 
 tenor and constitution of the gospel, be admitted 
 info the number even of professing Christians." It 
 is true indeed, a man may ajipcar un<ler such a 
 disguise, that those who are in tliis sense the stew- 
 ards of the mysteries of God, may in the judgment 
 of charity, be obliged to think well of him, and to 
 admit him ; but Christ, who intimately knows him, 
 does even now discern him. The present external 
 privileges he enjoys, are such as he has no just 
 right to ; and in a little time, Christ will root him 
 out of this kingdom with a vengeance, and he shall 
 be openly declared a rebel, and one whom the Lord 
 of it never knew, or never approved. So that, upon 
 the whole, it is so little a part that be had in the 
 kingdom, and tJiat for so short a time, that it may, 
 in the free language of Scripture, be said, that he 
 has never seen the kingdom of God at all ; that 
 he has neither part nor lot in this matter, has no 
 part with God's chosen, nor any lot with his in- 
 heritance. 
 
 Having thus largely explained the meaning of 
 this phrase, I now proceed, 
 
 II. To show you how certain this declaration of 
 our Lord in the text is, or how absolutely impossi- 
 ble it is, that any iinrcffenrratn man should thus see 
 the kingdom of God. 
 
 Now this I shall argue, — partly " from the im- 
 mutable constitution of God, whose kingdom it is;" 
 — and partly " from the nature of its blessings, 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 which ,-irc such, that no uiiicgenerate man, wliilc 
 he continues in that state, can have any fitness or 
 capacity to enjoy tlicm." 
 
 Tlie first of these considerations is copious and 
 important enough, to furnish out abunihtnt matter 
 for the remainder of this discourse ; and it will be 
 diilicult to <lespateh it uilliin these limits. 
 
 [1.] The iinpossiliility there is, that any unre- 
 E;enerate man sliould enter into the kingdom of God, 
 appears, " from the immutable constitution of that 
 God, wliose kingdom it is." 
 
 This might be sufliciently argued, from the ex- 
 press and empliatieal words of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ in the text. For he bore liis Father's com- 
 mission to preacli the gospel of the kingdom, to 
 publish the good news of its erection and success, 
 and likewise to declare its nature, and the method 
 of a<lmittance into it. And he is himself the great 
 Sovereign of that kingdom ; and consequently can- 
 not but perfectly, and beyond all comparison w ith 
 any other, know the whole of its constitution. — But 
 God has repeated the declaration by him, and by 
 his other messengers to tlie children of men, in dif- 
 ferent ages, and under dilferent dispensations, in 
 such a manner as suited its infinite importance. — 
 And, therefore, for the further illustration of the 
 argument, I shall enumerate a great variety of 
 Scriptures that speak the same language ; not so 
 much aiming therein at the speculative proof of 
 the point, as attempting to impress the consciences 
 of my hearers with a sense of its certainty ; and 
 humbly hoping that some of those sharp-pointed 
 arrows, Mhich I am now drawing out of the quiver 
 of God, may, by the direction of his Spirit, enter 
 the reins of some against whom they are levelled, 
 and convince them of the absolute necessity of an 
 entire change in their hearts, as well as their lives, 
 or of the vanity of all those hopes which tliey en- 
 tertain, while that change is wanting. And let me 
 bespeak your attention, not to the conjectures or 
 reasonings of a frail mortal man, but to tlie solemn 
 admonitions and declarations of the eternal God ; 
 and be assured, that in one sense or another, his 
 word shall take hold on you, as it has done on sin- 
 ners of former generations, either for conviction or 
 condemnation. 
 
 That I may not be confounded in the multiplicity 
 of my proofs, I shall range them under these three 
 distinct heads :— The prophets of the Old Testament 
 were commissioned to make this declaration ; — it 
 w as renewed l)y the preaching of Christ ; — and was 
 supported by the testimony of the apostles under 
 tlie inspiration of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 1. The prophets of the Old Testament were com- 
 missioned in effect to make this declaration, that no 
 unregenerate sinners should enter into the kingdom 
 of God. 
 
 WeU might our Lord say to Nicodemus, Art thou 
 
 a teacher in Israel, and knowest not these things? 
 for to this in effect all the prophets bear witness, 
 and it might be learned from almost every page of 
 their writings. It is true, the particular phrase of 
 being born again, or regenerated, does not occur 
 there ; nor is it expressly said, that an unregenerate 
 man shall not be admitted into God's kingdom ; 
 but tlicn the prophets every where assert, what is 
 in effect the same, that no wicked man, who does 
 not heartily repent of his sins, and turn from them 
 to God, must expect the divine favour. Now if you 
 consider what we mean by an unregenerate man, 
 according to the description I have given before, 
 you will find it is just the same as an impenitent 
 sinner : and if it be declared that such are not to 
 expect the divine favour, nay, that they must cer- 
 tainly prove the objects of his displeasure, this 
 must certainly imply an exclusion from his king- 
 dom, and must intend a great deal more than 
 being deprived of everlasting happiness. And thus 
 you see that all those scriptures, which speak of 
 the irreconcilable hatred of God against sin, and 
 against all impenitent sinners, come in to do ser- 
 vice here, and are equivalent to the declaration in 
 the text. And 1 may hereafter show you, that there 
 are many scriptures in the Old Testament which 
 lead men to consider that change, said to be so 
 necessary, as what must be effected by a divine 
 operation on their souls. But as that will more 
 properly come in under a following head, I shall 
 at present content myself with selecting a few 
 scriptures, as a specimen of many hundreds more, 
 in proof of the main point before us ; and I beseech 
 you that you would endeavour to enter, not only 
 into the sense, but into the spirit, of them. 
 
 You well know that unregenerate sinners are 
 wicked men ; and of such it is said, God is angry 
 with the wicked every day ; or all the day long, as 
 the original imports. The sinner lies down and 
 rises up, goes out and comes in, under the divine 
 displeasure ; and though with great patience God 
 bears with him for a while, he is described as pre- 
 paring his dreadful artillery against him, to smite 
 him even with a mortal wound : so far will he be 
 from admitting him into his kingdom, that, as it is 
 there added, if he turn not he will whet his sword ; 
 he has bent his bow and made it ready; he has also 
 prepared for him the instruments of death. And 
 in another place, he describes the dreadful conse- 
 quence of that preparation in most lively terms : If 
 I whet my glittering sword, and my hand take hold 
 on judgment, I will render vengeance to mine ene- 
 mies, and will reward them that hate me: I will 
 make mine arrows drunk with blood, and my sword 
 shall devour flesh from the beginning of revenges 
 on the enemy ; i. e. as soon as I begin this awful 
 work. And elsewhere he compares the destruction 
 which he will bring upon sinners at last, to that 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 727 
 
 wbich he executed on Sodom and Gomorrah, when 
 he scattered fire and brimstone on their habita- 
 tions, and reduced their pleasant country to a 
 burning lake : Upon the wicked he will rain 
 snares, fire and brimstone, and a horrible tempest ; 
 this will be the portion of their cup ; and oh, how 
 unlike the state and abode of those who are the 
 happy subjects of his kingdom. 
 
 None of the prophets speak in milder and more 
 gentle language to returning penitents than Isaiah ; 
 yet he declares. There is no peace, saith my God, to 
 the wicked. Yea, he does, as it were, call in the 
 concurrence of all who feared God, and who loved 
 their country, to echo back and enforce the admo- 
 nition : say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well 
 with him ; but, on the other hand, woe to the 
 wicked, it shall be ill with him ; for the reward of 
 his hands shall be given him. 
 
 The enumeration would be endless ; and it would 
 require more than the time of a whole discourse, 
 only to read over, without any comment or remark, 
 one half of the passages which might properly be 
 introduced on this occasion. I will, therefore, only 
 '.mention two more, which, though some of you may 
 hear w ith indifl'erence, I confess I cannot read with- 
 out a very sensible inward commotion. 
 
 The one is that passage in the Mosaic law. where 
 God directs his servant to say, If there be among 
 you a root that beareth gall and wormwood, or any 
 unregenerate soul, who, when he hears the words 
 of this curse, shall bless himself in his heart, saying, 
 I shall have peace, though I walk in the imagina- 
 tion of mine heart, to add drunkenness to thirst, 
 and run into one debauchery and sin after another: 
 the Lord will not spare him, but the auger of the 
 Lord and his jealousy shall smoke and be inflamed 
 against that man ; — and the Lord shall separate him 
 unto evil out of all the tribes of Israel, according 
 to all the curses of the covenant, that are written in 
 the book of the law. There is a terrible emphasis of 
 which we cannot but take notice here : God declares, 
 that if, among all the thousands of Israel, there was 
 but owe such presumptuous sinner, that thus flattered 
 himself in the way of his own heart, he would make 
 a terrible example of him, and separate that one 
 man to evil, out of thousands and ten thousands of 
 his faithful and obedient .servants. 
 
 This, therefore, is a passage full of apparent ter- 
 ror : the other is indeed a language of mercy ; but 
 it contains a most awful insinuation, which appears, 
 as good Archbishop Tillotson expresses it, " like a 
 razor set in oil, which wounds with so much the 
 keener edge." As I live, saith the Lord God, I 
 have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but 
 that the wicked turn from his way and live ; turn 
 ye, turn ye from your evil ways ; for why will ye 
 die, O house of Israel? thereby plainly intimating, 
 that, notwithstanding all that gentleness of the 
 
 divine nature, which he expresses in a most tender 
 invitation, which he confirms even with the solem- 
 nity of an oath ; yet, if sinners did not turn from 
 their evil ways, there was no remedy, but they 
 must die for it. 
 
 And how. Sirs, will any of you that continue in 
 an unregenerate state, arm yourselves against these 
 terrors? Is it by saying, " that these are the thunders 
 of Mount Sinai ; that these are the denunciations of 
 the Old Testament ; whereas the New speaks in 
 milder language ?" You may easily know the con- 
 trary ; and to this purpose I am further to show you, 
 
 2. That this declaration was renewed by the 
 preaching of Christ. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that grace and truth came by 
 Jesus Christ: yet all the grace and gentleness of 
 that administration he brought did not contradict 
 those awful threatenings ; nay, it obliged him to 
 set them in a stronger light.^ — He presently repeats 
 to Nicodemus what he had just before asserted in 
 the text, and declares. Verily, verily, I say unto 
 thee, except a man be born of water, and of the 
 Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God ; i. e. 
 " As he must be baptized with water, in order to a 
 regular entrance into the society of my people, so 
 he must also be sanctified and transformed by the 
 cleansing and renewing influences of the Spirit, 
 signified by the water there used, or he can have no 
 part in the blessings which my gospel brings." — 
 And that this must produce a universal change in 
 the life as well as in the heart, and a faithful sub- 
 jection to the will of God, without which no pro- 
 fession will stand a man in any stead, our Lord 
 solemnly declares in the conclusion of his incom- 
 parable discourse on the mount : " Not every one 
 that saith unto me. Lord, Lord, shall enter into the 
 kingdom of heaven ; but he that doth the will of 
 my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me 
 in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in 
 thy name, and in thy name cast out devils, and in 
 thy name done many wonderful works? And then 
 will I profess unto them, 1 never knew you ; depart 
 from me, ye that work inifjuity." And shall you, 
 Sirs, merely for having a name and place in his 
 house, escape ; when those that have preached his 
 gospel, and wrought miracles in confirmation of it, 
 when those that personally conversed with Christ, 
 and those that ministered unto him, shall perish, if 
 destitute of a holy temper of heart, and of its solid 
 fruit in their lives? — Has not our Lord expressly 
 said, tliatlie will gatherout of his kingdom all things 
 thnt ofi'cnd, and them that do ini(|iiity; and will 
 cast thcin into a furnace of fire; there shall be wail- 
 ing and gnashing of teeth ? — Nay, in his infinite 
 compassion, he has given to sinners, as it were, a 
 copy of the sentence that will another day be pro- 
 nounced upon them ; that they may meditate upon 
 it, and review it, and judge whether they can bear 
 
728 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 the tenor of its execution : hear it eTltcntively, aiul 
 then say wliethcr iinrefjencrate sinners shafl enter 
 into his kinpjdom. Tlie dreailful doom is this: De- 
 part from nie, ye cursed, into everlasting tire, pre- 
 pared for the devil and his angels. And what now 
 M ill you say to this ? Can any soul of you imagine, 
 that tlic Lord .Icsus Christ did not know w hat would 
 pass in lliis day in wliieh he is ajipointed to preside .' 
 or that hnowitif/ if, and knowing it would be somc- 
 tJiing diircrcnt from tiiis, he would, on any consi- 
 deration whatsoever, make a false representation, 
 and lay so much stress upon it ? Yet one or other of 
 these things you must secretly imagine ; or must 
 own, that every unregeneratc sinner, and you among 
 the rest, must not only be excluded from his pre- 
 sence, but be condemned to sufTcr all the fury of 
 his wrath, in company with devils and damned 
 spirits, in (inal darkness and everlasting burnings. 
 It only remains that I show you, 
 
 ;3. That the same testimony was renewed by the 
 apostles, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 You know that they were authorized by their 
 great Master to declare, in an authentic manner, 
 the constitution of this kingdom ; and that he who 
 despises them despises Christ. Now I would fain 
 persuade you all to consider this argument as it lies 
 in Scripture ; to read over the epistolary parts of 
 the New Testament in this view, to obsei-ve what 
 encouragement they any of them give to an unre- 
 generatc sinner, to expect any part of the kingdom 
 of heaven. In the mean time, permit me to present 
 you with a few texts, as a specimen of the rest. 
 
 The apostle Paul, in his epistle to the Romans, 
 does indeed speak of God's justifying the ungodly; 
 but lest any should vainly imagine that he encou- 
 rages the hope of those that continue so, he ex- 
 pressly tells us, in the very same epistle, that the 
 wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all 
 ungodliness and unrighteousness of men ; and that 
 ere long this wrath shall be executed, even in the 
 day of the more ample revelation of the righteous 
 judgment of God ; who will render to every man 
 according to his deeds: — to them that do not obey 
 the truth, but obey unrighteousness, (which is the 
 chaiacter of every unregeneratc sinner,) indigna- 
 tion and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every 
 soul of man that doth evil, of the Jew first, as hav- 
 ing had the most signal advantages, though advan- 
 tages inferior to yours, and also of the Gentile. 
 And further he assures us, that to be carnally 
 minded is death ; and that the carnal mind, which 
 universally prevails in men, till by regenerating 
 grace they are made spiritual, is enmity against 
 God, and is not subject to the law of (iod, neither 
 indeed can be. — In another epistle he mentions it 
 as a first ])rinciple, in which, it miglit rationally be 
 supposed, no Christian was uninstructed ; Know 
 ye not, says he, that the unrighteous shall not in- 
 
 herit tlie kingdom of God ? And elsewhere he de- 
 clares, that all external modes of religion, separate 
 from that entire change of .soul which I have de- 
 scribed, arc worthless and vain: In Christ Jesus, 
 says he, or to those that desire any part in him and 
 his kingdom, neither circumcision availeth any 
 thing, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature. — 
 He likewise tells us to this purpose in another place, 
 that his grace, M liieli has appeared unto all men, 
 teaches us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, 
 and to live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this 
 l)resent world ; and yet after all to acknowledge, 
 that it is not by works of righteousness which we 
 have done, but according to his mercy he saves us, 
 by tlie washing of regeneration, and the renewing 
 of the Holy Ghost, which he has slicd on us abun- 
 dantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour.- — And 
 without holiness, which is the ell'cet of these sacred 
 operations upon the soul, he expressly tells us in 
 another place, that no man shall see the Lord. — 
 And to allege but one more passage from him ; as 
 it is evident that all unregeneratc sinners, and only 
 they, are ignorant of God, and disobedient to the 
 gospel ; he solemnly assures us, that instead of re- 
 ceiving such at last into this kingdom, the Lord 
 Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with his 
 mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking vengeance on 
 them that know not God, and that obey not the gos- 
 pel of our Lord Jesus Christ ; who shall be punished 
 with everlasting destruction from the presence of 
 the Lord, and from the glory of his power. — This is 
 the testimony of tlie apostle Paul in his own em- 
 phatical words, zealous as he was for the doctrine 
 of free grace, which such declarations as these do 
 not in the least degree contradict. 
 
 Let us now hear his brethren, the other apostles 
 of the Lord. — James urges sinners, if they ever de- 
 sire to draw nigh to God, and to have him draw 
 nigh to them, to cleanse their hands, and purify 
 their hearts. And yet more expressly he says, when 
 he speaks of those who should receive the crown of 
 life, which the Lord hath promised to them that 
 love him ; Of his own will begat he us witii the 
 word of truth, that we should be a kind of first- 
 fruits of his creatures. — The apostle Peter describes 
 Christians, as those whose souls were purified in 
 obeying the truth through the Spirit, being born 
 again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible ; 
 and as those, who were made partakers of the divine 
 nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the 
 world through lust. — Again, John, the beloved dis- 
 ciple, tells us, that every one that doth righteous- 
 ness is born of God ; but he that coramitteth sin is 
 of the devil : and that every one that has a well- 
 grounded hope of being like Christ, and seeing him 
 as he is, when he appears, purifies himself even as 
 he is pure.— And once more, the apostle Jude, as 
 he describes those who are sensual, and have not 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 729 
 
 the Spirit, as men that, if they were saved at all, 
 must be plucked out of the fire ; so he echoes back 
 that awful prophecy wliich Enoch had so long since 
 delivered, that the Lord will come with ten thou- 
 sand of his saints, to execute judgment upon all, 
 and to convict all that are ungodly of all those un- 
 godly deeds and words by which they have violated 
 his law. 
 
 This then appears, from the whole tenor of the 
 Scriptures, to be the positive and immutable con- 
 stitution of the great God, " that none w ho are un- 
 regencrate shall be admitted to enjoy the happiness 
 of heaven." And from the view that we have taken 
 of the sacred writings it is manifest, that this, in 
 every age, has been the language of the word of 
 God ; and under every dispensation we have sufli- 
 cient evidence of this important truth. Tliis is the 
 doctrine of the Old Testament ; and many are the 
 passages that I have offered from the law of Moses, 
 and from the Prophets, and the Psalms, that show 
 it is impossible an unrenewed soul should enter into 
 heaven. And the same also is asserted in the 
 strongest terms in the New Testament ; and when 
 Christ came to set the gospel of the kingdom in a 
 clearer light, the purport of the declaration that he 
 makes to Nicodemus in the text, was frequently 
 repeated by him in the course of his preaching, and 
 represented as the rule he would regard at the last 
 day. And the inspired apostles speak the same 
 thing with a united voice, and testify at large in 
 their epistles, that it is absolutely necessary we 
 should be born again, if ever we would hope to see 
 the kingdom of God. 
 
 So that now. Sirs, I may say. Call, if there be any 
 that will answer ; and to which of the saints will 
 you turn, to encourage your vain and presumptuous 
 hope, of finding your lot among God's people in the 
 kingdom of glory, if you are strangers to that im- 
 portant and universal change, which we before de- 
 scribed as regeneration in the Scripture sense of 
 the word ? The prophets under the Old Testa- 
 ment, and Christ and his apostles under the New, 
 concur, in all the variety of the most awful lan- 
 guage, to expose so presumptuous a hope. And is 
 it not audacious madness in any, to venture their 
 souls upon it? Thus you would undoubtedly judge 
 of any man, who should strike a dagger into his 
 breast, or discharge a pistol at his head, on this 
 presumption, that the almighty power of God could 
 prevent his death, though tiie heart or the brain were 
 pierced. But it is much greater folly for a man, 
 while he continues in an unregenerate state, to pro- 
 I raise himself a part in the kingdom of heaven. For 
 though there would be no reason in the world to 
 expect a miraculous interposition, to save a life 
 which a man was .so resolutely bent to destroy ; yet 
 none can say, that such an interposition would con- 
 tradict any of the express engagements of God's 
 
 word ; whereas to admit an unregenerate sinner 
 into the regions of glory, would be violating, not 
 this or that single declaration, but the whole series 
 and tenor of it : and we shall further show, in the 
 next Discourse, that it would also be, in effect, 
 altering the very nature of the heavenly kingdom 
 itself, as well as its constitution. Now what hope 
 can be more desperate, than that which can have 
 no support but in the subversion of the Redeemer's 
 kingdom, and even of the eternal throne of God, 
 the foundations of which are righteousness and 
 truth ? 
 
 SERMON XXVI. 
 
 OF THE INCAPACITY OF AN UNREGENERATE PERSON 
 FOR RELISHING THE E>JOVMENTS OF THE HEAVEN- 
 LY WORLD. 
 
 John iii. 3. 
 
 Except a man be horn ar/ain, he cannot see the 
 
 kingdom of God. 
 
 Is order to demonstrate the necessity of regenera- 
 tion, of which I would fain convince not only your 
 understandings, but your consciences, I am now 
 proving to you, that without it it is impossible to 
 enter into the kingdom of God : and how weighty 
 a consideration that is I am afterwards to represent. 
 
 That it is thus impossible, the words in the text 
 do indeed sullicienlly prove; but for the further 
 illustration of the subject, I have proposed to con- 
 sider it under two distinct views. 
 
 I have already shown it is impossible, because 
 " the constitution of the kingdom of heaven is such, 
 that God has solemnly declared, and this under 
 different dispensations, and more or less plainly in 
 all ages of his church, that no unregenerate person, 
 1. e. no impenitent sinner, shall have any part in 
 it." And I am now further to show, 
 
 [2.] That " the nature of the future happiness 
 (which is here (;hielly signified by the kingdom of 
 God) is such, that an unregenerate person would 
 be incapable of relishing it, even upon a supposi- 
 tion of his being admitted into it." 
 
 This is a thought of so great importance, and so 
 seldom represented in its full strength, that I shall 
 at present confine my discourse entirely to it. 
 
 I know, sinners, it will be one of the most difficult 
 things in the world, to bring you to a serious persua- 
 sion of this truth. You think heaven is so lovely 
 and so glorious a place, that if you could possibly 
 get an admittance thither, you should certainly be 
 happy. But I would now set myself, if possible, to 
 convince you that this is a rash and ill-grounded 
 
730 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 persuasion ; lliat on the contrary, if you were now 
 in the regions of fjlory, and in the society of those 
 blessed inliabitants, that unrenewed nature and 
 unsanetilied heart of yours would give you a dis- 
 relish for all the sublimest entertainments of that 
 blissful place, and turn heaven itself into a kind of 
 hell to you. 
 
 Now for the demonstration of this, it is only 
 necessary for you seriously to consider " what 
 a kind of happiness that of heaven is, as it is 
 represented to us in the word of God ;" for from 
 thence undoubtedly we are to take our notions 
 of it. 
 
 You might to be sure sit down and imagine a 
 happiness to yourselves, which would perfectly 
 suit jour degenerate taste ; a happiness which the 
 more entirely you were enslaved to flesh and sense, 
 the more ex(|uisitely you would be able to enter 
 into it. If God would assign you a region in that 
 beautiful world, where you should dwell in line 
 houses, magnificently furnished and gaily adorned ; 
 where the most harmonious music should soothe 
 your ear, and delicious food and generous wines in 
 a rich variety should regale your taste : if he should 
 give you a splendid retinue of people, to caress and 
 attend you, ofi'ering you their humblest services, 
 and acknowledging the most servile dependence up- 
 on your favour : especially if with all this he should 
 furnish you with a set of companions just of your 
 own temper and disposition, with whom you might 
 spend what proportion of your time you pleased, in 
 gaming and jollity, in riot and debauchery, without 
 any interruption from the reproof, or even the ex- 
 ample, of the children of God, or from indispositions 
 of body, or remorse of conscience : this you would 
 be ready to call life and happiness indeed : and if 
 the great Disposer of all things were but to add per- 
 petuity to such a situation, you would not envy 
 persons of a more refined taste the heaven you lost, 
 for such a paradise as this. 
 
 Such indeed was the happiness which Mahomet 
 promised to his followers : flowery shades and gay 
 dresses, luxurious fare and beautiful women, are 
 described with all the pomp of language in almost 
 every page of his Alcoran, as the glorious and 
 charming rewards which were to be bestowed on 
 the faithful after the resurrection. And if this 
 ■were the felicity which the gospel promised, extor- 
 tioners and idolaters, whoremongers and drunk- 
 ards, would be much fitter to inherit the kingdom 
 of God, than the most pious and mortified saint that 
 ever appeared on earth. But here, as almost every 
 where else, the Bible and the Alcoran speak a very 
 different language ; and far from leading us into 
 such gross and sensual expectations, our Lord Jesus 
 Christ has told us, that the children of the resurrec- 
 tion neither marry, nor are given in marriage ; but 
 are like the angels of God in heaven, and enjoy 
 
 such pure and spiritual delights, as are suited to 
 such holy and excellent creatures. 
 
 It is true, that in the book of Revelation, stately 
 palaces and shining habits, delicious fruit and har- 
 monious music, arc all mentioned, as contributing to 
 the happiness of those who have the honour to in- 
 habit the New Jerusalem. But then the style of 
 that obscure and prophetical book, naturally leads 
 us to consider these merely as figurative phrases, 
 which arc made use of to express the happiness 
 that divine wisdom and love has prepared for the 
 righteous, in a manner accommodated to the weak- 
 ness of our conceptions : or at least, if in any of these 
 respects provision be made for the entertainment of 
 a glorified body, whatever its methods of sensation 
 and perception may be, all will be temperate and 
 regular : and after all, this is even there represented 
 but as the least considerable part of our happiness, 
 the height of which is made to consist in the most 
 elevated strains of devotion, and in an entire and 
 everlasting devotedness to the service of God and of 
 the Lamb. 
 
 Let us therefore immediately proceed to settle the 
 point in question, by a more particular survey of 
 the several branches of the celestial felicity, as re- 
 presented to us in the word of God : and from 
 thence it will undeniably appear, that were an un- 
 regenerate soul in the same place with the blessed, 
 and surrounded with the same external circum- 
 .stances, the temper of his mind would not by any 
 means allow him to participate of their happiness. 
 For it is plain the Scripture represents the happi- 
 ness of heaven as consisting, — in the perfection of 
 our minds in knowledge and holiness ; — in the sight 
 and service of the ever-blessed God ; — in beholding 
 the glory of our exalted Redeemer ; — and enjoying 
 the society of glorious angels and perfected saints, 
 — throughout an endless eternity. — Now, sinners, 
 it is impossible you should enter into any such de- 
 lights as these, while you continue in an unrenege- 
 rate state. 
 
 1. One vei7 considerable part of the happiness 
 of heaven consists, " in that perfection of knowledge 
 and holiness to which the blessed shall be there 
 exalted;" in which the unregenerate soul can have 
 no pleasure. 
 
 Thus we are told, that the spirits of just men shall 
 there be made perfect ; for nothing that defiles, as 
 every degree of moral imperfection does, shall enter 
 into the New Jerusalem. An Old-Testament saint 
 conc^civcd of future happiness, as consisting in 
 bein;/ salisjied with the likeness of God : a character 
 that is manifestly most agreeable to the view of it 
 which the beloved disciple gives us, where he says, 
 that when Christ shall appear, we shall be like him, 
 for we shall see him as he is : which must certainly 
 refer to the glories of the mind, which are of in- 
 finitely greater importance than the highest imagin- 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 731 
 
 able beauty and ornament that can be put upon the 
 corporeal part of our nature in its most illustrious 
 slate. 
 
 Now from this perfection of holiness, which shall 
 then be wrought in the soul, there will naturally 
 arise an unspeakable complacency and joy, some- 
 thing resembling that which the blessed God him- 
 self possesses, in the survey of the infinite and 
 unspotted rectitude of his most holy nature. And 
 in proportion to the degree, in which the " eyes of 
 our understandings are enlightened" to discern 
 wherein true excellency consists, will the soul be 
 delighted in the consciousness of such considerable 
 degrees of it in itself. 
 
 But surely it will be superfluous for me to under- 
 take to demonstrate, that an unregenerate soul can 
 have no part in this divine pleasure, which implies 
 the complete renewal of the mind as its very found- 
 ation. For to imagine that he might, would be 
 supposing him reyenerate and unregenerate at the 
 same time. As Mr. Baxter very well expresses it, 
 " The happiness of heaven is holiness ; and to talk 
 of being happy without it, is as apparent nonsense, 
 as to talk of being well without health, or being 
 saved without salvation." 
 
 I would only add on this head. That the highest 
 improvement of our intellectual faculties could not 
 make us happy, without such a change in the af- 
 fections and the will, as I have before described 
 under the former general head. For the more clear 
 and distinct the knowledge of true excellence and 
 perfection is, the greater would be your anguish 
 and horror, to see and feel yourselves entirely 
 destitute of it; and it is exceeding probable that 
 spirits of the most elevated genius have the keenest 
 sensation of that infamy and misery, which is in- 
 separable from the prevalence of sinful dispositions 
 in such minds as these. 
 
 2. Another very considerable branch of the celes- 
 tial happiness, is tliat which arises " from the con- 
 templation and enjoyment of the ever-blessed God ;" 
 but of this likewise an unregenerate sinner is in- 
 capable. 
 
 As our own reason assures us, that God is the 
 greatest and best of beings, and the most deserving 
 object of our inquiries and regards, one would 
 think it would naturally lead us to imagine, that 
 the perfection and happiness of the human soul 
 consists in the knowledge and enjoyment of him ; 
 and that when it arrives at the seat of complete 
 felicity, it must intimately know him, and converse 
 with him. And in this view, I have sometimes 
 been surprised, that men of such abilities, as some 
 of I'le heathen poets and philosophers appear to 
 have been, should have had no greater regard to the 
 Supreme Being in the descriptions which they give 
 us of the future happiness. That sort of friendship 
 for them, which an acquaintance with their writings 
 
 must give to a person of any relish for the beauties 
 of composition, makes one almost unwilling to ex- 
 pose the low and despicable ideas, which they often 
 give of the state of their greatest heroes in the 
 regions of immortality. — But the word of God speaks 
 a vei-y diflerent language. Our Lord represents the 
 rewards to be bestowed on the pure in heart, by 
 telling us that they shall see, i. e. contemplate and 
 enjoy, God : and virtuous souls, who overcome the 
 temptations with which they are here surrounded, 
 shall be " made as pillars in the house of their God, 
 and shall go no more out :" and it is elsewhere said, 
 that his servants shall serve him, and shall see his 
 face. And David's views under a darker dispensa- 
 tion rose to such a degree of refinement, as to say. 
 As for me, I shall behold thy face in righteousness : 
 Which he mentions as a felicity infinitely superior 
 to all the delights of the most prosperous sinner. 
 
 But now, sinners, it is utterlj impossible that 
 while you continue in an unregenerate state, you 
 should behold the face of God with pleasure. The 
 unutterable delight which the blessed inhabitants 
 of heaven find in it, arises not merely from the 
 abstract ideas of his essential perfections, but from 
 a sense of his favour and love to them. It is this 
 that gives a relish to the whole survey, and rejoices 
 the iieart of all the saints, both in heaven and on 
 earth. He is a God of awful majesty and irresisti- 
 ble power, of infinite wisdom and unspotted holiness, 
 of unerring justice, invariable fidelity, and inex- 
 haustible goodness ; and " this God is our God, he 
 will be our guide and our portion for ever." And 
 were it not for this view, let a creature think of God 
 with ever so much spirit and propriety, he must 
 think of him, and be troubled ; yea, he must be 
 filled with unutterable horror and confusion, as the 
 devil is at the thought of an infinitely perfect being, 
 in whom he has no interest, from whom he has 
 nothing friendly to expect ; and if nothing friendly, 
 then every thing dreadful. 
 
 Now it is certain, sinners, that while you con- 
 tinue in an unregenerate state, under the influence 
 of that carnal mind which is enmity against (Jod, 
 and full of uncoiiquerablc rebellion against his law, 
 there can be no foundation for a friendship between 
 him and your souls ; nor for any persuasion, or any 
 apprehension, of your interest in his favour and love. 
 Friendship, you know, supposes something of a 
 similitude of nature and sentiment; for, as God 
 himself argues, " how can two walk together except 
 they be agreed f" Now I have before observed to 
 you at large, that God being of purer eyes than to 
 behold evil, must necessarily " hate all the workers 
 of iniquity : the foolish therefore shall not stand in 
 his sight," or shall not be admitted to such a situa- 
 tion ; nor would they indeed be able to endure it. 
 — Let conscience judge what satisfaction you could 
 find in the presence of a God, that you knew scorn- 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 ed and liatcii \ou, even while he siiffercd you to 
 continue anion^ tlie crowd of his children and 
 servants. Tlie more lively ideas you had of the 
 beauty and perfection of the divine nature, the 
 more you must loatlic yourselves for being so unlike 
 bini, and so abominable to him : and wliat pleasure 
 do you think consistent with such self-eontempt 
 and abiiorrcncc ? Or rather, would not the wretclied 
 def;eneraey of your nature lead you another way ; 
 and a kind of unconquerable self-love, joined even 
 with tliis consciousness of deformity and vileness, 
 lead you to hate God himself? It is described as 
 the fatal effect of prevailing wickedness in the 
 heart, " my soul loathed them, and their soul also 
 abhorred me." And thus would it probably work 
 in you, and produce in your wretched breasts a 
 mortal hatred against him, and an envious rage at 
 the thought of his perfect happiness : a state of 
 mind, of all others that can be imagined, the most 
 odious, and the most tormenting. How, Sirs, could 
 your hearts, possessed with these diabolical passions, 
 bear to sec the beams of his glory surrounding you 
 on every side ? How could you bear to hear the 
 songs and adorations, that were continually ad- 
 dressed to his throne ; and to observe the humble 
 attendance of all the hosts of heaven about it, who 
 perpetually reckon it their honour and happiness 
 to be employed in obedientie to his commands ? 
 Such a sight of the glory and felicity of your divine 
 enemy would make you, so far as your limited 
 nature was capable of it, miserable even in propor- 
 tion to the degree in which he is happy. This was, 
 no doubt, the torment of the devils as soon as they 
 bad harboured a thought of hostility against God ; 
 and the remembrance of that glory in which they 
 once saw him, and which they know he still inva- 
 riably possesses, is surely an everlasting vexation 
 to them; and it would be so to you, if you were 
 within the sight of it. 
 
 But further, the blessed in heaven find their 
 everlasting entertainment " in the sen ice of God." 
 They rest not day and night, saying. Holy, holy, 
 holy Lord God Almighty; i. e. they are continually 
 employed, either in the immediate acts of devotion, 
 or in other services, in which they still maintain a 
 devotional temper, and are breathing out their souls 
 in holy afl'ections, while their active powers are 
 employed in the execution of his commands. But 
 as I have already shown you, that while in an un- 
 rcgenerate state you could have no sense of his 
 favour to yon ; it is very apparent, that you could 
 have no sentiments of gratitude and love towards 
 him. So that while angels and glorified saints 
 were breathing out their souls in the most delight- 
 ful and rapturous praises, you must keep a sullen 
 kind of silence : or, if it were possible that your 
 harps and voices should sound as melodiously as 
 theirs, it would be all ceremony and show ; the 
 
 music of the heart would be wanting ; and you 
 would look on all the external forms of service but 
 as a tedious task, and count it your misfortune, that 
 the customs of the place obliged you to attend them. 
 You may the more easily apprehend and believe this, 
 when you consider what little relish you now have 
 for those solemnities of divine worship, in which 
 sincere Christians have the most lively foretastes of 
 heaven. You know, in your own consciences, that 
 short and interrupted as our public services are, 
 they are the burthen of your lives. You know that 
 you say, in your hearts at least, " When will the 
 sabbath be past, and the new moon be gone 1" 
 .Judge then how insupportable it would be to you, 
 to spend an everlasting sabbath thus. I question 
 not, but to your wretched spirits annihilation would 
 appear vastly preferable to an eternal existence so 
 employed. 
 
 3. Another very considerable branch of the hap- 
 piness of heaven, is that which arises " froni the 
 sight of tlie glory of an exalted Redeemer ;" but for 
 this likewise no unconverted sinner can have any 
 relish. 
 
 This is a view of the future happiness, which our 
 Lord gives us, when he prays for his people in those 
 memorable words, engraven, as I hope, upon many 
 of our hearts ; " Father, I will that they whom thou 
 hast given me, be with me where I am, that they 
 may behold my glory which thou hast given me." 
 And he elsewhere promises it, as the great reward 
 he would bestow upon his people; " If any man 
 serve me, let him follow me ; and where T am, there 
 also shall my servant be." And agreeable to this, 
 the apostle Paul represents it as the transporting 
 view in which he considered the happiness of the 
 future world ; I desire, says he, to depart, and to 
 be with Christ ; which is far better; incomparably 
 beyond any of the enjoyments of the present world 
 which can come into competition with it. — But for 
 this part of the happiness of angels, and of the 
 spirits of just men made perfect, it is also evident, 
 that you, sinners, can have no relish. 
 
 The sight of Christ will afford holy souls a trans- 
 porting delight, because they will regard it as the 
 glory of their Redeemer and their friend, and as a 
 pledge and security of their own glory. But what 
 foundation can you, sinners, find for such a joyful 
 sympathy with Christ, and such a comfortable 
 conclusion with regard to yourselves ! Such is the 
 wretched degeneracy of your nature, that though 
 Christ be indeed " the chiefest among ten thousand, 
 and altogether lovely, being the brightness of his 
 Father's glory, and the express image of his person," 
 possessed of every divine perfection and excellence; 
 yet you now slight and neglect him, and discern in 
 him no form nor comeliness, for which he is to be 
 desired : and were you unregenerate in heaven, the 
 .same principle would prevail. Now where there is 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 733 
 
 no love to a person, there can be no delight in his 
 converse, nor any pleasure in his happiness. Nay, 
 the contrariety of your nature to his would rather 
 occasion aversion and terror. You could not but 
 know, that the blessed Jesus is holy and undefiled, 
 and separate from sinners ; that he abhors all moral 
 evil to such a degree, that he laid aside all the glory 
 and entertainments of heaven, that he might destroy 
 the interest of sin in this world of ours, and might 
 purify to himself a peculiar people, zealous of good 
 works : and when you should recollect at the same 
 time that sinfulness, that continued to reign in your 
 hearts, and made you to every good work reprobate, 
 you could not but know that you must be hateful 
 to him ; and therefore could not but fear, lest 
 his almighty power should be exercised for your 
 punishment and destruction : and thus your terror 
 must rise, in proportion to the sensible evidence 
 you had of his dignity and authority. In a word, 
 you would stand like guilty rebels in the presence- 
 chamber of their injured and displeased Sovereign : 
 his throne and his sceptre, his robe and his crown, 
 his courtiers and his guards, though in themselves 
 splendid and magnificent objects, only serve to 
 terrify and amaze them, while they display the 
 grandeur and power of their enemy. 
 
 4. Another very considerable branch of the ce- 
 lestial happiness will be " the society of angels and 
 glorilied saints ;" but for this likewise an unregene- 
 rate sinner must be unfit. 
 
 You know, that when the apostle speaks of our 
 alliance to the heavenly world, he represents it as a 
 social state ; where excellent spirits dwell together, 
 and converse with each other with mutual esteem 
 and endearment: " Ye are come (says he) to the 
 heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable com- 
 pany of angels, to tlie general assembly and church 
 of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to 
 the spirits of just men made perfect." It is sitting 
 down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with all the 
 patriarchs and prophets, all the apostles and mar- 
 tyrs, in the kingdom of heaven : and perhaps you 
 tiiink you shall want nothing more to complete your 
 happiness, than to be admitted to a place among 
 them. But redect a little more attentively upon the 
 circumstances of things, and I am persuaded you 
 will form a different judgment. 
 
 There is no reason to doubt, but that at your first en- 
 trance into the regions of glory you w ould be agree- 
 ably struck w ith the view of those inhabitants. As 
 for those beauties of their character, which consist 
 in love to God, and in zeal for his honour and in- 
 terest, it is certain, that you would be insensible of 
 them, and pay but little regard to them: but the 
 ljumanity and benevolence of their temper would 
 no doubt render them agreeable to you ; and so 
 much the more, as self-love might lead you to ex- 
 pect some personal advantage by it. And it is more 
 
 than possible, that you would be much prejudiced 
 in their favour by those resplendent and attractive 
 forms in w hich they appear ; forms, no doubt, far 
 more beautiful and engaging than any which the 
 children of men ever saw upon earth. On both 
 these accounts it might be natural enough for you 
 at first to address them with an air of respect, as 
 persons that you could be glad to be upon good 
 terms with, and in whose friendship you could de- 
 sire to share. 
 
 But how do you think that any such proposal of 
 friendship would be received by an angel or a glori- 
 fied saint .' No doubt, if there were any prospect of 
 converting you, or any hope you might be brought 
 to a devout and holy temper, they would immedi- 
 ately become preachers of righteousness to you ; 
 and endeavour, by the most rational, the most pa- 
 thetic, and the most insinuating address, to awaken 
 and charm you to a sense of religion, and so to form 
 you to a capacity for happiness. But they would 
 know, that according to the eternal constitution of 
 God, there could be no room to entertain such a 
 hope ; but that being filthy, you must be filthy still: 
 and tlierefore, as they would know you to be incorri- 
 gible, their love to God, and their concern to be 
 api)roved and accepted by bin), would prevent their 
 forming any intimate friendship with persons whose 
 natures were so contrary to him, and on whom he 
 looked with such irreconcilable abhorrence. And 
 besides this, their own personal sanctity of charac- 
 ter would give them an aversion to such corrupt 
 and degenerate creatures ; so that how much soever 
 they might pity your condition, they would turn 
 away from you as objects whose presence and con- 
 verse were not to be endured. 
 
 And do you not easily apprehend, that such a re- 
 fusal on their part would be both shameful and very 
 provoking to you '. For which way could you bear 
 it, to be thus rejected and dishonoured by the most 
 excellent part of the creation ; by those whom per- 
 haps you once intimately knew, and with whom you 
 conversed upon equal terms; nay, by many who 
 were once much your inferiors, and whom perhaps, 
 in the pride of your hearts, you would not conde- 
 scend to regard .' The natural effect of this must 
 surely be, that you would soon be proportionably 
 displeased and enraged with the refusal, as you 
 were at first charmed at their appearance ; and 
 when you saw that transporting pleasure which they 
 took in the afl'ection and friendship of each other, 
 and the joy which the divine favour i)oured into 
 their souls, while you, in the very same place, were 
 excluded from these rich entertainments, your heart 
 would soon burn with envy and indignation ; and 
 as much as you before admired them, you, upon 
 this, would come to hate them. And perhaps that 
 hatred would put you upon some attempt to int(;r- 
 rupt, or even, if it were possible, to destroy, that 
 
734 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 lKi;)piiicss which yon were not allowed to sliaic. 
 But then, when you saw them eontiniially under 
 the divine protection, and compassed with his 
 favour, as with a shield, so that your malice could 
 not reach them, all the keenness and rancour of 
 your spirit would recoil upon itself; you would lly 
 from their presence as insupportable ; and would 
 be s;lcnl to retire to some meaner apartment, or to 
 hide yourselves in tlie shades of darkness ; so t!iat 
 you might but get rid of the sight of so many 
 dazzling objects, whose lustre, inr.tead of cheering 
 your vitiated eye, would pain and overpower it. 
 
 But if you should not be transported to this dia- 
 bolical excess ; if it w ere possible for you to behold 
 the glorified saints, and to live among them, with- 
 out these envious and tormenting passions ; yet 
 surely you would want a relish for the most enter- 
 taining part of their conversation. Had you indeed 
 a good natural genius, which to be sure many un- 
 converted sinners have, it might be very agreeable 
 to hear them discoursing of the wonders of nature ; 
 and that curiosity, which is, in some measure, inci- 
 dent even to persons of tlic meanest capacities, 
 would make it pleasant to hear them recount the 
 important history relating to the revolutions of the 
 angelic world, which we on this earth arc entirely 
 strangers to, or at least have been very little ac- 
 quainted with them. But surely the most delight- 
 ful topics of conversation, which heaven itself can 
 furnish out, must be those which are religious and 
 divine ; the infinite perfections of the ever-blessed 
 God ; the personal glories and incomparable love of 
 his condescending, but exalted Son ; and the 
 sanctifying operations of tlie blessed Spirit on the 
 soul, transforming it into the divine image, and 
 making it meet for eternal glory. Yea, even when 
 the blessed spirits above are handling pliilosophi- 
 cal or historical subjects, tiiey still consider them 
 with a regard to God, as his perfections arc dis- 
 played and illustrated in the works of his hands, 
 and in the conduct of his providence. And here 
 their pleasure flows, not merely from a set of rational 
 ideas, which arise in their own minds, or are 
 suggested to them by others ; but from the exercise 
 of those devout affections upon the blessed God, 
 which are correspondent to these several subjects 
 of discourse. 
 
 And can you. Sirs, who are alienated from the 
 divine life, and accustomed to live in a continual 
 neglect and forgctfulness of the Great Parent of 
 universal nature, can you relish such subjects as 
 these ? You would, no doubt, be discontented and 
 uneasy in such a scene ; the heavenly oratory of 
 this holy society would have no charms for you ; 
 but you would be longing for some of those vain 
 and worthless companions, which you were so fond 
 of here upon earth, to hear a merry story, or a song, 
 or to join with them in the pleasures of a debauch. 
 
 6. Another considerable branch of the happiness 
 of heaven, arises " from the assured prospect of the 
 everla.sting continuance of this felicity ;" but, if an 
 unregcnerate soul could find any entertainment at 
 all in heaven, he certainly could have no ground 
 for such an expectation of its continuance. 
 
 When the children of God on earth think of the 
 happiness of heaven, the eternity of it makes a very 
 deep impression on their hearts, and even swallows 
 up their souls with ardent desire and unutterable 
 joy : it raises their esteem, and animates their hope, 
 while they reflect on that exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory, that house not made with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens, and that inheritance incor- 
 ruptible and undefiled, and which fadeth not away. — 
 And no doubt but the blessed in heaven regard it 
 in the same view, and all the pleasures they enjoy 
 arc vastly increased by the prospect of their endless 
 duration ; so that by the anticipation of an eternity 
 still to come, they do, as it were, every moment en- 
 joy an infinite satisfaction. — But as for you, sinners, 
 while you are so ill attempered to the happiness of 
 heaven, the prospect of an eternal abode there 
 would not, on the principles I have laid down above, 
 be a prospect of eternal happiness, but rather, on 
 the whole, of eternal uneasiness to you. 
 
 But suffer me a little to discourse upon another 
 supposition ; and let me now, for argument sake, 
 wave what I have been so long insisting upon, and 
 suppose, that you could so far command the tur- 
 bulent passions of your own heart, and so unite (as 
 it were) the whole powers of your soul, to attend to 
 the beauty of place, the harmony of music, and 
 whatever else may be supposed capable of regaling 
 the senses or the imagination ; as upon the whole, 
 to find heaven a pleasing and delightful abode, and 
 to wish, that though some of its entertainments 
 were above your taste and capacity, yet you might 
 be allowed an eternal enjoyment of the rest ; could 
 there be any room for you to expect a perpetual 
 abode in these blissful seats ? No, sinners, you 
 would not be able so much as to hope it. The good 
 itself is so great, and perpetual ejijm/mevt, even in 
 any degree, has such a kind of infinite value, that I 
 know not how the purest and noblest spirits in 
 heaven could absolutely have been secure of it, 
 separate from the engagement of a divine promise. 
 And what divine promise would you be able to 
 have recourse to in such a circumstance as we now 
 suppose ? Where could you find it in all the book 
 of God, that persons of your character should ever 
 enter into heaven at all, much less that you should 
 for ever continue there ? You could have therefore 
 no security of the continuance of }our abode in 
 heaven, if it were possible that you should enter 
 on the possession of it : but when you should con- 
 sider the unsullied holiness of the ever-blessed God, 
 the Sovereign of this sacred province, and the spot' 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 735 
 
 less purity of that gracious Redeemer, to whom the 
 government of it is committed, you could not but 
 fear, that you should quickly be seized by the hand 
 of vengeance, be hurled from the battlements of 
 heaven, and plunged low into the pit of destruction. 
 You know this was the condemnation of the rebel 
 angels, and your guilt, compared with that dreadful 
 event, which makes so considerable a scene of the 
 history of heaven, would, I doubt not, be sufficient 
 to create everlasting jealousy and uneasiness, and 
 to turn every pleasurable circumstance into a 
 source of horror, in the apprehensions of being de- 
 prived eternally of it. 
 
 Thus you see, Sirs, from a particular survey of 
 the various lights in which heaven is represented, 
 and of the various branches of which its happiness 
 consists, an unregencrate sinner is incapable of it, 
 even though we shouW suppose that he was actually 
 admitted to it. Let me entreat you to reflect on all 
 these things, and you w ill see the reasonableness of 
 that one remark with which I shall conclude this 
 discourse. 
 
 How vain are all those hopes of heaven, which 
 in your present condition you are ready to entertain! 
 
 I have been proving at large, that if God were to 
 admit you to the possession of heaven, which it is 
 certain he never will, you would be incapable of 
 relishing the enjoyments of it ; nay, that there 
 would be a solid foundation in your own hearts, for 
 many of the most tumultuous and disquieting pas- 
 sions. Envy and grief, fear and rage, those roots of 
 bitterness, would spring up even in the paradise of 
 God, and turn the fertility of that blessed soil into 
 their own nourishment. And do you imagine that 
 any external accommodations or ornaments coiihl 
 make you easy and comfortable under the transports 
 of such hellish passions ? What if you were to take 
 a man that was tormented with a violent fit of the 
 stone or gout, and to place him in a most delicious 
 garden, or in a palace of marble and cedar, to set 
 him on a throne of gold under a canopy of purple, 
 to clothe him with robes of velvet and embroidery, 
 regaling him with the most delicious fruits and 
 generous wines, and at the same time soothing Iiis 
 ear with all the harmony of sound, which the most 
 melodious symphony of instruments and voices 
 could alford ? Would all this magnificence and 
 luxury make him insensible of that anguish which 
 was racking his very vitals ? or would not that in- 
 ward torture rather render him insensible of this 
 association of pleasurable impressions from Avith- 
 out ? Yea, would it not incline him to suspect, that 
 you intended all these pompous preparations only 
 to deride and insult him? As little would your 
 distempered and unholy souls be capable of relish- 
 ing the entertainments of heaven, while these enter- 
 tainments, and these souls of yours, continue what 
 they are at present. 
 
 There must be therefore a change : and will you 
 consider where that change must be made ? If you 
 continue still in your present character and circum- 
 stances, there must be a vast change in heaven 
 itself, before you can be happy in it. The whole 
 temper, character, and disposition of every saint and 
 angel there, must be changed from what it now is, 
 before they can be capable of any friendly and 
 complacential conversation with you. Yea, our 
 " Lord Jesus Christ, who is the same yesterday, to- 
 day, and for ever," must divest himself of those 
 beauties of holiness, which are infinitely dearer to 
 him than any external grandeur or authority, before 
 he can receive you into his kingdom. Nay, the 
 very " Father of lights with whom there is no 
 variableness, neither shadow of turning," must be 
 entirely changed. He must lay aside that holiness 
 which is essential to his nature, and which is the 
 brightness and glory of it ; he must love that which 
 he now hates, and be indifterent to that which he 
 most aflectionately loves, before he can open his 
 arms to you, and smile upon your souls. And can 
 you dare to hope for such an unaccountable, such 
 an inconceivable, revolution as this ? No, Sirs, in- 
 finitely sooner would God change earth into hell, 
 and bury you, and all of your character, under the 
 ruins of this world which you inhabit and pollute, 
 than he would thus tarnish the beauties of heaven, 
 and divest himself of the brightest glory of his own 
 divinity. " God," says Archbishop Tillotson, "has 
 condescended to take our nature upon him, that he 
 might make us capable of happiness ; but if this 
 will not do, he will not put oH' his own nature 
 to make us happy." 
 
 What then do you imagine ? Do you think that 
 God will prepare some separate apartments in 
 heaven, furnished with a variety of sensual plea- 
 sure, for the entertainments of persons of your cha- 
 racter ? some apartments from w hence the tokens of 
 his presence shall be withdrawn, from whence the 
 exercise of his worship sliall be banished, from 
 whence saints and angels shall retire to make way 
 for those inhabitants, who, like you, have sinned 
 themselves beyond a capacity of enjoying God, or 
 of being fit companions for any of his most excel- 
 lent creatures ? This were to suppose the Christian 
 religion false, and to contradict the light of natural 
 reason too, which not only shows such a disposition 
 of things to be unworthy the divino sanctity and 
 majesty, but also shows that if there be a futtire 
 state, it must be a state of misery to wicked men, 
 in whose minds those vicious habits prevail, which 
 are even now the beginning of hell; which tlicre- 
 forc tlicy must carry along witii them wherever they 
 are, in proportion to the degree in which they are 
 predominant. 
 
 Upon the whole then, you must evidently see 
 tl'.at it is absolutely necessary that you, sinners, 
 
73G 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 should be clianfced, if ever you expect to have any 
 part or lot iu the future happiness. And when do 
 yon expect that change should be wrought? Do 
 you expect it when deatli has done its dreadful 
 ofiice uj)on you, and your soul arrives at the invisi- 
 ble world .' Is the air of it (if I may be allowed the 
 expression) so refined, that it will immediately 
 purify and transform every polluted sinner that 
 comes into it .' You cannot but know, that the whole 
 tenor of Scripture forbids that presumptuous, de- 
 structive hope. It assures us, that there is no work, 
 nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the 
 grave ; but that we must be judged according to 
 what we have done in the body, and not according 
 to what has passed in any separate state, whether 
 the actions we have done be good, or whether they 
 be e\il. 
 
 If ever therefore you are regenerate at all, it must 
 be while you are here below, in this state of edu- 
 cation and trial : and if you continue in your sins 
 till death surprise you, your souls will be for ever 
 sealed up under an irreversible sentence, and by 
 the decree of God, and the constitution of things, 
 will be excluded from happiness, as by no means 
 either entitled to it, or prepared for it. So evident 
 is the truth of this assertion in the text, that " ex- 
 cept a man be born again, he cannot see the king- 
 dom of God." 
 
 And will you then sit down contentedly under 
 such a conclusion as this, "I shall be excluded 
 from this kingdom as accursed and profane !" Alas, 
 Sirs, the conclusion is big w ith unutterable terror 
 and death ; as I should now proceed to show you at 
 large if my time would allow : for I am next to 
 represent the infinite importance of entering into 
 that kingdom, and consequently of that entire 
 change which has been proved to be necessary to 
 that entrance. But I must reserve that to the next 
 opportunity of this kind. In the mean time let me 
 add, that I doubt not but there are many present, 
 who have heard this description of the heavenly 
 world with delight, and who are saying in their 
 hearts, " This is my rest for ever ; here will I dwell, 
 for I have desired it: this is the felicity to which 
 my heart aspires with the most ardent breathing." 
 Such may with the utmost reason regard it as a 
 token for good, and may go on in a cheerful assur- 
 ance, that the grace that has made them meet to be 
 partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light, 
 will at length conduct them to it, in perfect safety 
 and everlasting triumph. Amen. 
 
 SERMON XXVII. 
 
 OF THE IMPORTANCE OF ENTERING INTO THE 
 KINGDOM OF HEAVEN. 
 
 John iii. 3. 
 
 Except a man he born ayain, he cannot see the 
 
 liinydom of God. 
 
 How impossible it is that an unregenerate sinner 
 should see, j. e. enjoy, the kingdom of God, or that 
 future blessedness to which the gospel is intended 
 to lead its professors, I have shown you at large. 
 I have appealed to the testimony of God's holy pro- 
 phets, and apostles, in concurrence with that of his 
 incarnate Son, to prove that persons of such a 
 character are, by the inviolable constitution of that 
 kingdom, excluded from it. Ahd I have further, in 
 my last discourse, proved, that if they were actually 
 admitted to it, they would be incapable of relish- 
 ing its pleasures ; that their vitiated palate would 
 have a distaste to the choicest fruits of the paradise 
 of God ; yea, that in these blissful regions, thorns 
 and briers would spring up in their paths, and 
 make them wretched in the very seat of happiness. 
 
 I doubt not, but you are in your consciences 
 generally convinced, that the truth of these things 
 cannot be contested. You are inwardly persuaded 
 that it is indeed so ; and I fear many of you have also 
 reason to apprehend, that you are of this unhappy- 
 number, who are hitherto strangers to regenerating 
 grace. But how are your minds impressed with this 
 apprehension ? Do I wrong you. Sirs, when I suspect 
 that some of them are hardly impressed at all? Do I 
 wrong you, when I suspect there are those of you, who 
 have spent the last week with very little reflection 
 upon what you have heard ? The cares and amuse- 
 ments of life have been pursued as before, and you 
 have not taken one hour to enter into the thought 
 with self-application, and seriously to consider, " I 
 am one of those concerning whom eternal wisdom 
 and truth has pronounced, that, if they continue 
 such as at present they are, they shall not see the 
 kingdom of God." You have not paused at all 
 upon the awful thought ; you have not offered one 
 lively petition to God, to beg that you may be re- 
 covered from this unhappy state, and brought to a 
 meetness for his kingdom, and a title to it. For 
 your sakes therefore, and for the sakes of others in 
 your state, having already explained, illustrated, 
 and confirmed the proposition in my text, I proceed, 
 
 III. To represent to you the importance of the 
 argument suggested here ; or to show you, how 
 much every unregenerate sinner ought to be alarmed 
 to hear that, while he continues in his present state, 
 " he cannot see the kingdom of God." 
 
 And O that, while I endeavour to illustrate this, 
 my words might enter into your minds as goads, 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 737 
 
 and might fix there as nails fastened in a sure 
 place ! The substance of my argument is given 
 forth by the one great Shepherd ; may the prosecu- 
 tion of it be blessed, as the means of reducing some 
 wandering sheep into his fold ! 
 
 No« , in order to illustrate the force of this argu- 
 ment, I beseech you seriously to consider, — what 
 this kingdom is, from which you are in danger of 
 being for ever excluded ; — and what will be the 
 condition of all those who shall be finally cut ofi' 
 from any interest in it. 
 
 [1.] Consider " what that kingdom is from which 
 the unregenerate, or those who are not born again, 
 shall be excluded." 
 
 And here you are not to expect a complete repre- 
 sentation of it ; for that is an attempt in which the 
 tongues of angels, as well as men, might fail ; or 
 how proper soever their language might be in itself, 
 to us would be unintelligible ; for " eye hath not 
 seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the 
 heart of man, the things which God hath prepared 
 for thera that love him." And surely these final 
 and most illustrious preparations of his love must, 
 beyond all others, exceed our description and con- 
 ception. A minister that, with tlie apostle Paul, 
 had been caught up into the third heaven, if he 
 would attempt to speak of the glorious scenes 
 wliich were there opened to him, must say, they 
 were unutterable things : and one that, with John, 
 had lain in the bosom of Christ himself, must say, 
 as that apostle did, " It does not yet appear what 
 we shall l>e." And, indeed, when we go about to 
 discourse of it, I doubt not but the blessed angels 
 pity the weakness of our apprehensions and ex- 
 pressions, and know that we do but debase the 
 subject, when we attempt the most to exalt and 
 I adorn it. 
 
 i Yet there are just and striking representations of 
 I this kingdom made in the word of God ; and we are 
 there often told in general, wherein it shall consist. 
 You no doubt remember that I was, in the last of these 
 Lectures, going over .several important views of it. 
 I then told you, it will consist in the perfection of 
 our souls in knowledge and holiness ; in the sight 
 of God, and our blessed Redeemer; in exercising 
 the most delightful affections towards them, and in 
 being for ever employed in rendering them the 
 most honourable services ; in conversing with saints 
 and glorious angels ; and in the assured expectation 
 ■of the eternal continuance of this blessedness in all 
 its branches. That this is the Scriptural represen- 
 tation of the matter, I proved to you from many 
 'express testimonies in the word of God ; and I doul)t 
 'not, but you have often heard tlie excellency of each 
 lof these views represented at large, in distinct dis- 
 courses on each. 
 
 I will not, therefore, now repeat what has been 
 said upon such occasions; but will rather direct 
 3 B 
 
 you to some general considerations, which may 
 convince you of the excellency of that state and 
 world, from which, if you continue unregenerate, 
 you must for ever be excluded : for I would fain fix 
 it upon your minds, that it is in this connexion, and 
 for this purpose, that the representation is made. 
 And O that you might so review it, as no longer 
 to neglect so great a salvation, nor act as if you 
 judged such everlasting life to be beneath your 
 attention, and unworthy your care and regard! 
 You cannot think it so when you consider, — that it 
 is represented in Scripture under the most magni- 
 ficent images ; — that it is the state which God has 
 prepared for the display of his glory, and the enter- 
 tainment of his most favourite creatures ; — that it 
 is the great purchase of the blood of his eternal 
 Son ; — that it is the main work of his sacred Spi- 
 rit to prepare men's hearts for it ; — and the great 
 business of our inveterate enemy the devil, by all 
 possible means, to prevent our obtaining it. — Each 
 of these considerations may much illustrate the 
 excellency of it, and all taken together yield a 
 most convincing demonstration. 
 
 1. Consider, " by what a variety of beautiful and 
 magnificent images this happiness is represented 
 in the word of God ;" and that may convince you 
 of its excellency. 
 
 When the blessed God himself would raise our 
 conceptions of a state of being, so much superior to 
 any thing we have ever seen or known, unless he 
 intended a personal and miraculous revelation of 
 it, he must borrow our language, and in painting 
 the glory of heaven must take his colours from 
 earth. And here the magnificence of a city, the 
 sweetness of a garden, the solemn pomp of a temple, 
 the lustre of a crown, and the dignity of a kingdom, 
 strike powerfully on the human n)ind, and fill it 
 with veneration and delight. But when such figures 
 as these are borrowed from this low world of ours, 
 faintly to shadow out that which is above, there is 
 always the addition of some important circumstance, 
 to intimate how far the celestial original exceeds 
 the brightest cartlily glory, by wliich the divine 
 condescension has vouclisafcd to describe it. 
 
 The enumeration of a variety of Scriptural de- 
 scriptions will set these remarks in the strongest 
 light. — If therefore heaven be described as a city, 
 it is the New Jerusalem, the city of our God, that 
 cometh down from God out of heaven : the pave- 
 ment of its streets is all of pure gold, its gates are 
 pearl, and its foundation jewels. — If it be a garden, 
 it is the paradise of God, and so far superior to 
 that which he at first prepared and furnished out 
 for the entertainment of Adam in his state of inno- 
 cence, that it is planted on every side with the tree 
 of life, of which there was but one alone in the 
 garden of Eden ; and is watered, not with such 
 common rivers as the Tigris and Euphrates, but 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 ^vitli tliat livliifc, copious, iiicxhaiistcd stream, tlic 
 river of the water of life, whieh proceeds from the 
 throne of Goil, ami gently glides along through all 
 its borders. — When it is represented as a temple, 
 we are told, that instead of a golden ark placed in 
 the remotest recess, to which onlj the high priest 
 might once a year approach, and on which ho might 
 not be allowed to gaze, the throne of God is erected 
 there, perpetually surrounded with myriads of wor- 
 shippers who see his face, and like the high priest 
 when clothed in his richest robes, have his name 
 written in their foreheads : instead of the feeble 
 rays of that golden candlestick, whole lamps slione 
 in the holy place, the heavenly temple is illuminated 
 in a more glorious manner, and needs no candle, 
 neither light of the sun ; for the glory of God con- 
 tinually enlightens it, and the Lamb is the light 
 thereof: nay, we are assured that its sacred minis- 
 ters are made kings as well as priests unto God ; 
 and accordingly being clothed in white raiment, 
 they have crowns of gold on their heads ; as well 
 as harps and golden vials, or censors full of incense, 
 in their hands : and lest we should think these 
 pompous services are only the entertainment of 
 some peculiarly saered seasons, we are told that 
 they rest not day nor night, adoring him that sits 
 upon the .throne, and are fixed as pillars in his 
 temple, to go out no more. — Again, if it be spoken 
 of as a crown, it is represented as incorruptible ; a 
 crown of glory that fadeth not away. — And when it 
 is called a kingdom, the Scripture does not only 
 add, as here in the text, that it is the kingdom of 
 God, which must certainly exalt the idea of it ; but 
 that it is a kingdom which cannot be moved, an 
 everlasting kingdom : nay, to carry our thoughts to 
 the highest degree of dignity and glory, it is spoken 
 of as a sitting down w ith Christ on his throne. 
 
 But further, the value of these illustrious repre- 
 sentations is much enhanced, if we consider the 
 character of the persons by whom they are made. 
 They were persons well acquainted with these 
 things, having received their information from a 
 divine revelation, and from the immediate visions 
 of God. They were also persons of such sublime 
 and elevated sentiments, that they had a sovereign 
 contempt for all the enjoyments of time and sense, 
 even those which the generality of mankind set the 
 greatest value upon ; and counted all things but 
 loss for the knowledge of Christ, and the testimony 
 of a good conscience, while they looked not at tem- 
 poral but at eternal things. They could deliber- 
 ately, constantly, and even cheerfully, resign all the 
 riches, and honours, and carnal pleasures, which 
 they might have purcliased by their apostasy from 
 religion ; and were ready to embrace bonds, im- 
 prisonments, or death itself, when it met them in 
 tbe way of their duty. — Now certainly a glory, with 
 which such holy, wise, and heroic persons were so 
 
 passionately enamoured, and which they describe 
 with such pathos of language, and such ecstasy of 
 delight, while they were trampling with so generous 
 a disdain on every thing which earth calls good and 
 great, must deserve our very attentive regard. And 
 this it yet more evidently will appear to do, if we 
 consider, 
 
 2. " It is the state and world, which God has 
 prepared for the display of his glory, and the enter- 
 tainment of the most favoured of his creatures." 
 
 This argument seems to be hinted at, when it is 
 said, (as in the place I referred to before,) " Eye hath 
 not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into 
 the heart of man, the things which God hath pre- 
 pared for them that love him." God well knows 
 the capacity of his creatures, and how much happi- 
 ness they arc able and fit to receive ; and he can 
 fill their capacities to the utmost; uay, he can 
 further enlarge them to v. hat degree he pleases, that 
 thoy may admit superior degrees of glory and 
 felicity. A happiness, therefore, which he has pre- 
 pared on purpose, to display the riches of his mag- 
 nificence and love, and to show what he can do to 
 delight his creatures, must certainly be in some 
 measure proportionable, if I may so express it, to 
 the infinity of his own sacred perfections. Let us 
 then seriously consider who God is ; and attentively 
 dwell, in our meditation, on the extent of his power, 
 and the riches of his bounty ; and our conception 
 of the happiness of heaven must be raised to some- 
 tliing more glorious, than the most emphatical 
 words can perfectly describe. 
 
 And here, to assist our imagination in some de- 
 gree, let us look round us, and take a survey of this 
 visible world. This earth, how conveniently has he 
 furnished it, how beautifully has he disposed it, 
 how richly has he adorned it ! What various and 
 abundant provision has he made for the subsist- 
 ence, the accommodation, and the entertainment of 
 the creatures that inhabit it ! and especially of 
 man, in whom this scheme and system of things 
 appears to centre, and to whom it is all most wisely 
 and graciously referred ! Yet eartli is the habita- 
 tion of a race of mean and degenerate creatures, 
 who are but in a state of trial ; nay, it is the habi- 
 tation of thousands and ten thousands of God's in- 
 corrigible enemies, with whom he is angry every 
 day. Already it is marked with some awful cha- 
 racters of the divine displeasure ; and the Scripture 
 assures us, that it is reserved unto fire, against the 
 day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men. 
 Yet even this earth is not a spectacle unworthy our 
 regard ; nor can we, if we allow ourselves to sur- 
 vey it with becoming attention, behold it without 
 an afTccting mixture of admiration, of love, and of 
 joy : passions that will strike us yet more power- 
 fully, if from this earth of ours we raise our eyes to 
 the visible heavens ; and there behold the glory of 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 739 
 
 the sun, the brightness of the moon, and all the 
 numerous hosts of heaven that attend in her train. 
 Who that consider-s, with any degree of attention, 
 their magnitude, their lustre, their motion, and 
 their inlluence, can forbear crying out, •" O Lord, 
 our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth, 
 who has set thy glory above the heavens!" And 
 when, with even these in our view, we further re- 
 flect, that there is another apartment, as yet invisi- 
 ble, of which this spangled firmament is but, as it 
 were, the shining vail ; an apartment, where the 
 great Creator and Governor of all has fixed his 
 stated residence, and erected the throne of hi.s 
 glory ; even that throne which is for ever sur- 
 rounded by all the most holy and excellent of his 
 creatures ; we must be convinced, it is something 
 more beautiful and more magnificent than this 
 harmonious system itself. And, methinks, when 
 we have said more beautiful and more magnificent 
 than this, imagination is ready to fail us, and to 
 leave the mind dazzled and overwhelmed with an 
 effulgence of lustre which it cannot delineate, and 
 can scarce sustain. Yet will our venerable appre- 
 hensions of it be further assisted, if we consider, 
 
 3. That the kingdom of heaven is " the great pur- 
 chase of the blood of God's only-begottcn Son ;" 
 and therefore to be sure it must be inconceivably 
 valuable. 
 
 If you are at all acquainted with your Bibles, 
 you must know, that wc are by sin in a state of 
 alienation from God ; that we had forfeited all our 
 title to his love, and stood ju.stly exposed to his 
 severe displeasure ; and that it is Jesus who de- 
 livers us from the wrath to come. Now if we owe it 
 to his merit and atonement that we live, much more 
 are we to ascribe it to him, if we are raised to any 
 superior degree of happiness. If God could not, 
 with honour to his justice, have sufl'ered us, without 
 such a propitiation, to have passed off with impu- 
 nity ; much less could he, without it, have received 
 us to his embraces, and have advanced us to sit 
 with him on his throne. Accordingly, it is said of 
 the blessed martyrs in the heavenly world, even of 
 those who had so gloriously distinguished their 
 fidelity and zeal, and loved not their lives unto the 
 death ; that they had washed their robes, and made 
 them white, in the blood of the Lamb: and they 
 gratefully acknowledge it in their hymns of praise, 
 that " Christ had redeemed them to God by his 
 blood, and made them kings and priests unto God." 
 I Now let us seriously reflect, and consider what 
 I this blood of the Lamb is. The apostle Peter tells 
 us, that silver and gold, and all the peculiar trea- 
 sures of kings and princes, arc but corruptible 
 things, or perishing and worthless trifles, when 
 compared with it. And no wonder it is represented 
 in such exalted language, when we consider it was 
 the blood of the only-begotten Son of God, who is 
 3 B 2 
 
 the brightness of his Father's glory, and the express 
 image of his person, and indeed one with him, being- 
 possessed of a nature truly and properly divine ; so 
 that it is called the blood of God. We may well 
 argue, even from these transient surveys, that it 
 was some important happiness which he came to pro- 
 cure at so expensive a rate. Had an angel been 
 sent down from heaven, we should naturally have 
 concluded, it must have been upon some momentous 
 errand : surely, then, when the Lord of angels 
 comes down, not only to live on earth, but to expire 
 in bitter agonies on the cross, to purchase a benefit 
 for us, we may be well assured that this benefit 
 must be very considerable. Our Lord Jesus Christ 
 must certainly set a very great value upon it, or he 
 would not have purchased it at such a price : and 
 we are sure, the value that he apprehended in it 
 must be its true value. He could not be imposed 
 upon by any false appearance of glory and splen- 
 dour: he despised, with a just and generous con- 
 tempt, all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory 
 of them ; and he was also well acquainted with the 
 celestial kingdom, having so long dwelt in it, and 
 so long presided over it : yet so highly does he es- 
 teem it, that he speaks of it upon all occasions, as 
 the highest possible gift of divine bounty, the rich- 
 est preparation and noblest contrivance of divine 
 love ; yea, he regards it as a felicity so great, that 
 when he conducts his people into it, with the last 
 solemn pomp of the judgment-day, it is said, He 
 shall see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied, 
 allowing it to be a just equivalent for all he has 
 done and all he has suffered in so glorious a cause. 
 
 4. The excellency of the heavenly kingdom will 
 further appear, if we consider, that " it is the main 
 work of the Spirit of God upon men's hearts, to 
 prepare them for an admittance into it." 
 
 You M cll know, that the blessed Spirit of God is 
 spoken of as that divine agent by whom all the 
 hosts of heaven were created, and all God's various 
 works produced ; and it is he that knows the tilings 
 of God, even as the human spirit knows the things 
 of a man. Now it is his peculiar office in the eco- 
 nomy of our redemption, to form the soul to a mcet- 
 ness for glory. Accordingly, when the apostle Paul 
 had been reminding the Corinthians, that while they 
 continued in their sinful state, they were unfit for 
 the kingdom of God ; he adds, " But ye arc washed, 
 but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified, in the 
 name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our 
 God." 
 
 That the Spirit should condescend to engage at 
 all in such a work, must give us a very sublime 
 idea of the end at which it aims. But much more 
 will that idea be raised, when we consider with 
 what a variety, and what a constan(;y, of operations 
 he begins, continues, and perfects it. He attempts 
 it (as we shall hereafter more particularly show 
 
740 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 >oii) sonu'tinies by convictions of terror, and somc- 
 tiuics by insinuations of love ; and by one mctliod 
 or another, in the hearts of all the heirs of this 
 glory, he works so great a change, that it is repre- 
 sented by turning a heart of stone into a heart of 
 llcsli, by raising the dead from their graves, yea, by 
 producing a new creation. For this does he watch 
 over the soul with the tenderest care, and continues 
 his friendly odices, to recover it from relapses, and 
 gradually to form it to advancing degrees of sancti- 
 ty, till at length it be enabled to perfect holiness in 
 the fear of God. Nay, so intent is this sacred 
 agent on the important work, that when sinners 
 most insolently and ungratefully reject him, and 
 by resisting him oppose their own happiness, he 
 does not immediately leave them ; he strikes them 
 again and again ; and waits upon them for succeed- 
 ing days, and months, and years : and wlien, perhaps, 
 the sincere convert makes the most ungrateful re- 
 turn for the experience of his goodness, even after 
 he has acknowledged, and at length obeyed, it; 
 when, under the fatal transport of some ungoverned 
 passion, and the influence of some strong tempta- 
 tion, he acts as if he were intent upon tearing down 
 flu; work of the Spirit of God upon his soul, and 
 <lriving him for ever away ; yet in how many in- 
 .«tances does he return again after all these injuries, 
 pleading the cause of God with a sweetly prevail- 
 ing eloquence, and thus healing the wound, and 
 repairing the breach, and making it perhaps 
 stronger than before ? And all this for what ? That 
 the happy subject of all these kind operations may 
 be formed to the fitness of the kingdom of heaven. 
 — And are we to regard this blessed Spirit as an un- 
 meaning agent, or as incapable of judging of the 
 importance of this end for which he acts ? Is that 
 almighty energy of his employed in an insignificant 
 manner? Surely Nicodcmus, slow of understand- 
 ing as he was, must apprehend the importance of 
 entering into tlie kingdom of heaven, when he 
 heard, that in order to be admitted to it, a man 
 must be born of the Spirit. And let me add once 
 more, 
 
 a. That the excellency of the heavenly kingdom 
 may further be argued, " from the eagerness with 
 which the enemy of souls is endeavouring to pre- 
 vent our entrance into it." 
 
 You know the devil is always represented as the 
 inveterate enemy of our happiness. His rage is 
 expressed by that of a roaring lion, that walks about 
 seeking whom he may devour ; and with unweari- 
 ed diligence he is continually employed in forming 
 and pursuing his temptations : and this is the grand 
 design of all, that he may exclude us from the pro- 
 mised felicity. While sinners are in their unregenc- 
 rate state, he endeavours to engage all their regards 
 to the objects of time and sense ; and for that pur- 
 pose he continually presents them with a variety of 
 
 entertainments and amusements suited to their re- 
 spective tempers and circumstances. If they are 
 awakened to any serious concern about their eternal 
 salvation, he uses his utmost address to divert their 
 minds from an attendance to it : and for this pur- 
 pose he displays before them all the allurements of 
 sin in its most engaging forms ; and if they are not 
 captivated witli these, he often puts on a face of 
 terror, and endeavours to aflright tliem from religion 
 by the most gloomy representations of it, or by hor- 
 rible and distracting suggestions, " that it is now for 
 ever too late to attain it." Or if divine grace sur- 
 mount all this opposition, and the sinner resolutely 
 chooses his portion in heaven, and puts his soul 
 into the hands of Christ, to be conducted to it ; the 
 malice of Satan pursues liim even to that sacred 
 retreat, which he has sought in the arms of his 
 Saviour : and if he cannot prevent the soul from 
 entering into heaven, he will at least labour to bring 
 it into such a state of negligence, and to seduce it 
 into those delays and relapses which may divert its 
 regards to that blessed world, which may cloud its 
 evidences of it, and may at least, as much as pos- 
 sible, diminish the degree of its glory there. 
 
 Now permit me in this instance to turn the ar- 
 tillery of this cunning enemy against himself, and 
 to argue the excellency of this kingdom, from the 
 zeal and attacliment with which he endeavours to 
 obstruct your attaining it. Though Satan be now 
 a very degenerate creature, he was once an angel 
 of light, and still retains much of the knowledge, 
 though he has lost the rectitude and integrity, of 
 the angelic nature. And he particularly knows 
 what heaven is, because he was once an inhabitant 
 there ; and while he is endeavouring to persuade 
 the sinner to prefer earth before it, he does, by 
 that very endeavour, incontestably prove, that he 
 himself knows the contrary, and is fully apprised 
 that there is nothing here to be compared with the 
 felicity of the future state. And therefore, while 
 he seeks the destruction of the soul, he can leave 
 it in the enjoyment of all its worldly prosperity ; 
 nay, he will attempt to lead him into methods, by 
 which this prosperity may be promoted and in- 
 creased. 
 
 And thus, Sirs, I have endeavoured a little to 
 represent to you what this kingdom of heaven is, 
 from which we are assured that unconverted sinners 
 shall for ever be excluded. I have argued its ex- 
 cellency, — from the representations which are made 
 of it in tiie word of God,— from its being the prepa- 
 ration of divine love,— from its being the purchase 
 of a Redeemer's blood,— and the end to which, on 
 the one hand, the glorious operations of the blessed 
 Spirit lead, — and of which, on the other hand, all 
 the stratagems and assaults of the prince of dark- 
 ness are intended to deprive us. If therefore there 
 be truth in Scripture, if there be wisdom in heaven, 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 741 
 
 or policy in hell, it must surely be infinitely impor- 
 tant. And will any of you be such mean-spirited 
 creatures, as, when this happiness is proposed to 
 you, basely to relinquish the pursuit of it, and to 
 sacrifice this blessed hope to any perishing trifle of 
 mortal life ? Surely it would be madness ; though 
 nothing more were to be apprehended than the loss 
 of it; and though, when heaven were lost, all that 
 earth can give should remain, if not to counter- 
 balance the loss, yet at least to make you less sen- 
 sible of it. But the weight of the argument will 
 much more evidently appear, if you consider, 
 
 [2.] What will at last become of all those who 
 are excluded from this heavenly kingdom. 
 
 And here I beseech you to ask your own con- 
 sciences, whether they be not inwardly persuaded, 
 — that those who are excluded from heaven will 
 remain in a state of existence in which they will 
 be ever sensible of their loss, — and will be delivered 
 over by divine vengeance into that seat of torment 
 which God has prepared for the punishment of his 
 implacable and incorrigible enemies. — This many 
 of you do undoubtedly believe of such persons in 
 general : believe it therefore of yourselves, if you 
 are, and continue, in an unregenerate state. 
 
 1. " You will still continue in a state of exist- 
 ence, in which you will be ever sensible of your 
 loss." 
 
 It might afford some wretched kind of consolation 
 to you, if, as soon as you died out of this world, 
 your being or your apprehensive powers were im- 
 mediately to cease. Then the loss of heaven would 
 -Only be an affliction to you in your dying moments, 
 when you saw the enjoyments of earth were come 
 to an end, and that you must have no part in any 
 future happiness. But alas. Sirs, you cannot but 
 know that when your bodies are dead, and con- 
 sumed in their graves, your thinking faculties will 
 still be continued to you: and O that you would 
 seriously reflect bow they will then be employed ! 
 You will then be thinking what you have done in 
 life, what you have chose for your happiness, and 
 what has been the consequence of that choice. You 
 will look round in vain for such accommodations 
 and pleasures as you were once most fond of, but 
 they will be no more ; and when you perceive 
 them vanished like the visionary amusements of a 
 dream, you will lift up your astonished eyes towards 
 the regions of glory. And you indeed will have a 
 lively view of them ; but to what purpose will that 
 view serve? Only through the righteous vengeance 
 of God, to aggravate your misery and despair. 
 " Alas," will you think, " there are millions of 
 creatures yonder in heaven, who are rejoicing in 
 the .sight and favour of God, and are as full of hap- 
 piness as their natures can contain, and .shall be so 
 for ever; while I am cut off from all share in the 
 divine bounty. Rivers of plea.surc are flowing in 
 
 upon them, while not one drop is sent down to me ; 
 nor could I obtain it, though I were to ask the 
 favour from the least of Christ's servants there. I 
 am cast out as an accursed wretch, with whom God 
 and his holy and blessed creatures will have no 
 further intercourse or communion : and why am I 
 thus cast out ? and why am I thus cut off from 
 God's favour, and driven from his presence, while 
 so many that dwelt with me on earth are admitted 
 to it ? My nature was originally as capable of hap- 
 piness as theirs ; and though it was sadly degene- 
 rate, it might like theirs have been renewed. God 
 was once offering me that grace, by which my dis- 
 ordered soul might have been transformed, and I 
 might have been fitted for the regions of glory : but 
 I despised all these offers, and gave the preference 
 to those fading vanities, which, alas ! have for ever 
 forsaken me. And now they that were ready are 
 gone in to the delightful banquet, and the door is 
 shut ; the everlasting gates are shut for ever, and 
 barred against me. And here I must lie at this 
 miserable distance, envying and raging at their 
 happiness, of which, whatever sight or knowledge I 
 may have of it, I must never, never, never, par- 
 take." 
 
 Such reflections as these, Sirs, will cut deep into 
 your souls ; and accordingly our Lord declares to 
 impenitent sinners in his own days. There shall be 
 weeping and gnashing of teeth, when you see others 
 sitting down in the kingdom of God, and you your- 
 selves thrust out. And if you would reflect, you 
 might easily apprehend this. How would you be 
 enraged at yourselves, if by your folly you had 
 neglected securing a plentiful estate, when it was 
 offered to you on the most easy terms ; and you 
 actually saw others, once your equals, and perhaps 
 your inferiors, in the possession of it, in conse- 
 quence of having taken those methods which you 
 stupidly neglected ! The reflection, I doubt not, 
 would very much impair the pleasure you might 
 find in other comfortable and agreeable circum- 
 stances. How much more insupportable then will 
 the loss of heaven appear to you, when you come to 
 see, and know, what it is you have lost, and have 
 nothing to relieve or support you, under the painful 
 recollection ? 
 
 It is to no purpose to object, that upon the prin- 
 ciples of my last discourse, there will be no room to 
 lament your exclusion from those entertainments, 
 which you would be incapable of relishing if you 
 were admitted to them ; for you will then see and 
 lament that incapacity as a very great misery. And 
 if a man, who was naturally fond of fcasfing and 
 mirth, should sec a great many regaling themselves, 
 and revelling about him, while he was languishing 
 under some painful distemper, which made him 
 incapable of joining in the entertainment ; he 
 would yet grieve that he had no part in it; and it 
 
T42 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 would l)c the increase, latlier than the alleviation, 
 of his uneasiness, that it was his sickness which 
 unfitted him for it ; especially if, as in your case, it 
 was a sickness which he had brought upon himself 
 by his own folly, and for which he l>ad been oll'ered 
 an easy, pleasant, and infallible remedy, wliich he 
 had refused to use till the malady was grown utterly 
 incurable. One would imagine, this thougiit would 
 be enough to impress you ; but if it do not, let me 
 entreat, and even charge, you to consider, 
 
 2. That if you are excluded from the kingdom of 
 heaven, " you will be consigned over to those 
 regions of darkness, despair, and misery, which 
 God has prepared for those unhappy criminals, who 
 are the objects of his final displeasure, and whom 
 he will render everlasting monuments of his wrath." 
 
 There is something in human nature, that starts 
 back at the thought of annihilation with strong re- 
 luctance ; and yet how many thousands are there in 
 this miserable world, who would with all their souls 
 fly to it as a refuge? They shall seek death, as an 
 inspired writer strongly expresses it, and shall not 
 find it ; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee 
 from them. I will not attempt to enter into a detail 
 of the horrors, attending the place and state, into 
 which all who are excluded from the glories of the 
 heavenly world shall be cast, and in which they 
 shall be fixed. Let that one awful Scripture sufliee 
 for a specimen of many more ; in which we are told, 
 that every one whose name was not found written 
 in the book of life, (or who was not registered in 
 the number of those, who were to inhabit the New 
 Jerusalem, or the kingdom of heaven,) was east into 
 the lake of fire, or, as it is afterwards expressed, 
 into the lake that burns with fire and brimstone. 
 Think of this, and ask your own hearts, you that 
 are so impatient of the little evils of mortal life, 
 whether you can endure to take up your abode for 
 ever in devouring fire, or whether you can dwell 
 with everlasting burnings ? Yet these are the 
 images by which the word o." God represents it; to 
 be plunged as in a sea of liquid fire, whose ilanies 
 are exasperated and heightened, by being fed with 
 brimstone ; nay, as the prophet speaks, by a copious 
 stream of brimstone, so expressly appointed by God 
 himself, that this, as well as the river of the water 
 of life, is represented as procee<ling immediately 
 from him: " he has made Tophet deep and large ; 
 the pile thereof is fire and much wood, and the 
 breath of the Lord, like a stream of brimstone, docs 
 kindle it." 
 
 It is painful to a tender mind to think of this, as 
 what its fellow-creatures are obnoxious to ; it is 
 grievous to speak of it in these dreadful terms. 
 But who are we, that we should be more merciful 
 than God ? Or rather, how can we imagine it is 
 mercy, to avoid speaking of the appointment of in- 
 finite wisdom, for the punishment of impenitent 
 
 sinners ? What mercy were that. Sirs, to avoid 
 to mention these terrors to you, and to neglect to 
 warn you of them, because they are great? which is 
 indeed the very reason why the Scripture thus pa- 
 thetically describes them. 
 
 Away therefore with this foolish, this treacherous, 
 compassion, which chooses rather to leave men to 
 be consumed, than to disturb their slumbers ! 
 Think, Sirs, of that wretclied glutton, whom Christ 
 describes as lifting up his eyes in hell, being in tor- 
 ments, seeing the regions of the blessed at an un- 
 approachable distance, and begging in vain that 
 one drop of water might be sent to cool his tongue, 
 amidst all the raging thirst with which he was tor- 
 mented in this flame. Regard it attentively ; for 
 as God lives, and as your soul lives, if you con- 
 tinue in an unregenerafe state, you see in that 
 wretch the very image and representation of your- 
 selves. Yes, sinners, I testify it to you this day, 
 that intolerable as it seems, it will, on that suppo- 
 sition, be your own certain fate, or to speak much 
 more properly, your righteous, but inevitable, doom. 
 Heaven and earth will desert you in that dreadful 
 hour ; or, if the inhabitants of both were to join to 
 intercede for you, it would be in vain. Sentence 
 will be passed, and execution done ; hell will open 
 its mouth to receive you, and shut it again for ever 
 to enclose you, with thousands, and ten tliousands 
 more, among whom you will not find one to comfort 
 you, but every one ready to afllict you. Then shall 
 you know the value which God sets upon his 
 heavenly kingdom, by the judgments he inflicts upon 
 you for neglecting and despising it ; and then shall 
 you know the importance of being born again, that 
 only tneans by which hell can be avoided, and heaven 
 secured. 
 
 And let me further add, that conviction will 
 quickly come in this terrible way, if you are not 
 now prevailed upon to consider these things ; 
 things, which if you have the least regard to the 
 word of God, you cannot but notionally believe. 
 Do not then go about to annihilate (as it were) these 
 prospects to your mind, by placing them at a long 
 distance. The distance is not so great as to deserve 
 a mention. The patience of God will not wait upon 
 you for thousands, or even hundreds, of years : you 
 have a few mortal days, in which to consider of the 
 matter ; or rather, you have the present moment to 
 consider of it. And if you improve the oppor- 
 tunity, it is well ; but if not, the just and uniform 
 methods of the divine administration shall proceed, 
 though it should be to your ruin. God has vin- 
 dicated the honours of his violated law, and de- 
 spised gospel, upon millions, who with the rebel 
 angels, by whom they have been seduced, are 
 even now reserved in everlasting chains under 
 darkness, unto the judgment of the great day ; and 
 he will as surely vindicate them upon you. If you 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 743 
 
 do not repent, if you are not regenerate, you 
 " shall all likewise perish," and not one of you shall 
 escape. 
 
 And thus I close this copious and important 
 argument ; this argument in which life and death, 
 salvation and damnation, are concerned. View it, 
 my friends, in all its connexion, and see in what 
 part of it the chain can be broken. Will you say, 
 that w ithout regeneration you can secure an interest 
 in the kingdom of heaven, though the constitution 
 of heaven oppose it, and all the declarations of 
 God's word stand directly against it; and though 
 nature itself reclaim, and conscience testify your 
 incapacity to enjoy it ? Or will you say, that being 
 excluded from it, you shall suffer no considerable 
 damage, though you lose so glorious a state, the 
 noblest preparation of divine love, the purchase of 
 redeeming blood, and the end of the Spirit's opera- 
 tion on the soul ; though you ever remain sensible 
 of your loss, and be consigned over to dwell in that 
 flaming prison, which God has prepared for the 
 devil and his angels, and where all the terrors of 
 his righteous judgments are made known ? 
 
 But if you arc indeed inwardly convinced of the 
 truth and importance of these things, and will go 
 away, and act as before, without any regard to 
 them, I can say no more. The reason of man, and 
 the word of God, can point out no stronger argu- 
 ments, than an infinite good on the one hand, and 
 an infinite evil on the other. 
 
 Hear, therefore, O heavens, and give car, O 
 earth ! and let angels and devils join their astonish- 
 ment ; that creatures who would strenuously con- 
 tend, and warmly exert themselves, I will not say 
 merely for an earthly kingdom, but in an afl'air 
 where only a few pounds, or perhaps a few shillings 
 or pence, were concerned, are indilferent here, 
 where, by their own confession, a happy or miser- 
 able eternity is in question. For indifferent, I fear, 
 some of you are and will continue. I have repre- 
 sented these things in the integrity of my heart, as 
 in the sight of God, not in artful forms of speech, 
 but in the genuine language, which the strong 
 emotions of my own soul, in the views of them, most 
 naturally dictated. Yet I think it not at all im- 
 probable, that some of you, and some perhaps who 
 do not now imagine it, will, as soon as you return 
 home, divert your thoughts and discourses to other 
 objects; and may perhaps, as heretofore, lie down 
 upon your beds without spending one quarter of an 
 hour, or even one serious minute, in lamenting your 
 miserable state before God, and seeking that help 
 and deliverance which his grace alone can give. 
 But if you thus lie down, make, if you can, a 
 covenant with death, that it may not break in upon 
 your slumbers ; and an agreement with hell, that 
 before the return of the morning, it may not flash 
 in upon your careless souls another kind of con- 
 
 viction, than they will now receive from the voice 
 of reason and the word of God. 
 
 SERMON XXVIII. 
 
 OF THE NECESSITY OF DIVINE INFLUENCES TO PllO 
 DUCE REGENERATION IN THE SOUL. 
 
 TiTUS iii. 5, 6. 
 
 Not hy works of righteousness which we have done, 
 but according to his mercy he saved us, by the 
 washing of regeneration, and reneioing of the Holy 
 Ghost ; which he shed on us abundantly through 
 Jesus Christ our Saviour. 
 
 If my business were to explain and illustrate this 
 scripture at large, it would yield an ample field 
 for accurate criticism and useful discourse, and 
 more especially would lead us into a variety of 
 practical remarks, on which it would be pleasant 
 to dilate in our meditation. It evidently implies, 
 " that those who are the saved of the Lord, are 
 brought to the practice of good works;" without 
 which faith is dead, and all pretences to a saving 
 change are not only vain, but insolent. Yet it 
 plainly testifies to us, " that our salvation, and ac- 
 ceptance with God, is not to be ascribed to these, 
 but to the divine mercy ; w hich mercy operates by 
 sanctifying our hearts, through the renewing in- 
 fluence of the Holy Spirit: and, that there is an 
 abundant efl'usion of this Spirit under the gospel," 
 which is therefore, with great propriety, called the 
 ministration of the Spirit, and the law of the spirit 
 of life in Christ Jesus. 
 
 But I must necessarily, in pursuance of my 
 general scheme, wave several of these remarks, 
 that I may leave myself room to insist on tlie grand 
 topic I intend from the words. 
 
 I have already shown you, who may be said to 
 be in an unregenerated state : I have also described 
 the change which regeneration makes in the soul: 
 and have largely shown you, in the three last dis- 
 courses, the absolute necessity and importance of 
 it. And now I proceed, 
 
 Fourthly, To show the necessity there is of the 
 agency of the divine power, in order to produce 
 this great and important change. 
 
 This is strongly implied in the words of the text ; 
 in which the apostle, speaking of the method God 
 has been pleased to take for the display of his 
 goodness in the salvation and happiness of fallen 
 men, gives us this affecting view of it, that it is not 
 by works of righteousness which we, i. e. any of us 
 Christians, have done, but according to his free 
 
714 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 grace and mercy that he has saved us, by the wasli- 
 ing, or (as it inif^ht be rendered) the lavcr, of rege- 
 neration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 I shall be ready to acknowledge, with the gene- 
 rality of ancient and modern interpreters, that 
 baptism may probably here be called the laver of 
 regeneration ; God having appointed, that as new- 
 born children are washed, so they, ^^ho by the in- 
 fluences of his grace on their hearts are born again, 
 should, in token of their repentance for the sins of 
 their past life, be washed with baptismal water, 
 supposing (which was here apparently the case in 
 this early age of Christianity) they had not re- 
 ceived that ordinance in their infancy. Neverthe- 
 less, lest any should imagine, that an external 
 ceremony was suflicicnt, or that it was the chief 
 thing intended, the apostle takes the matter higher. 
 And as the apostle Peter tells us, that the baptism 
 which saves us is not merely the putting away the 
 filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good con- 
 science towards God; so the apostle Paul here 
 adds, that we arc saved liy the renewing of the 
 Holy Ghost : by which I can by no means under- 
 stand something entirely distinct from, and subse- 
 quent to, his regenerating influences ; for, accord- 
 ing to the view of regeneration, stated in our former 
 discourses, none can be regenerated who are not 
 renewed : but it seems to explain the former clause, 
 and to refer to the more positive efi"ect produced by 
 divine grace on the soul, whereby Christians are 
 not only purified from sin, but disposed to, and 
 quickened in, a course of holy obedience. And 
 then further tells us, that this Spirit is the gift of 
 God, and is plentifully communicated to us in the 
 name, and through the hands, of the blessed Re- 
 deemer, being shed on us abundantly by God, 
 through Jesus Christ our Saviour. 
 
 Agreeably therefore to the general design and 
 purport of these w ords, I shall go on to demonstrate 
 the absolute necessity of a divine agency and ope- 
 ration in this great work of our regeneration ; which 
 I shall do from a variety of topics. And here I 
 shall studiously wave many controversies, with 
 which the Christian world has been afllicted, and 
 the soundest part of it disturbed, with relation to 
 the kind and manner of this influence. I will not 
 so much as mention them, and much less discuss 
 them ; lest Satan should take an advantage of us, 
 to divert our minds from what is essential in this 
 doctrine, to what is merely circumstantial. Only 
 let it be observed in general, that I speak of " such 
 an agency of God on our minds, as offers no violence 
 to the rational and active nature which God has 
 given us, nor does by any means supersede our 
 obligations to those duties which his word requires ; 
 but on the contrary, cures and perfects our nature, 
 and disposes the soul to a regard to such incumbent 
 duties, and strengthens it in the di.scharge of them." 
 
 With this only preliminary, which appears to me 
 highly important, I proceed to sho<V the reason- 
 ableness of ascribing this change to a divine 
 agency, rather than to any thing else, which may 
 be supposed to have any share in producing it. 
 And wc infer this, 
 
 [1.] " From the general and necessary depend- 
 ence of tiie whole created world upon God." 
 
 There was a philosophical, as well as divine, 
 truth, in that observation of the apostle Paul at 
 Athens, which was well worthy of the most learned 
 assembly ; In him, i. e. in God, we live, and move, 
 and have our being. Such is the innate weakness 
 of created nature, that it continually depends on a 
 divine support. The very idea of its being created 
 supposes, that it had no cause of its existence, but 
 the divine will, in the first moment of it : and if it 
 could not then subsist without that will, in the first 
 moment of its existence, it neither could subsist 
 without it in the second, or in any future moment 
 of it: since to have been dependent for a while, can 
 never be supposed to render any thing for the 
 future independent. The continued existence then 
 of all the creatures, no less of angels, than of 
 worms, or trees, or stones, does properly depend 
 upon the divine energy which bears them up, and 
 holds those of them in life which live, and those of 
 them in being which are inanimate, or without life. 
 
 And if their being be dependent, then surely it 
 will follow, that all their perceptive and active 
 powers, whatsoever they are, must continually de- 
 pend upon God : for to exist with such powers is 
 evidently more than simply to exist ; and if a 
 divine agency be necessary for the latter, much 
 more must we allow it to be necessary for the 
 former. 
 
 The human mind therefore, with all its capacities 
 and improvements, must acknowledge itself per- 
 petually indebted to God, who is the fountain of 
 truth and wisdom, as well as of being: accordingly 
 wc are told, it is he that teaclietii man knowledge. 
 All the skill of the husbandman, in one passage of 
 Scripture, and all the wisdom of the artificer, in 
 another, is ascribed to his influence : and if the im- 
 provement of the sciences, and any other discovery, 
 which renders human life in any degree more com- 
 modious and agreeable, is to be ascribed to the 
 divine illumination and influence, then surely it is 
 from hence this art of living wisely and well must 
 also be derived. All the views upon which good 
 resolutions are formed, all the strong impressions 
 upon the mind arising from these views, and all 
 the steadiness and determination of spirit, which 
 docs not only form such purposes, but carries them 
 into execution, are plainly the effect of the divine 
 agency on the mind ; without which no secular 
 aflairs could be clearly understood, strenuously 
 pursued, or successfully accomplished. And how 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 745 
 
 peculiarly reasonable it is, to apply this remark to 
 the point now in view, will appear by attending, 
 
 [2.] To " the greatness and excellency of this 
 change," which speaks it aloud to be the divine 
 work. 
 
 I must, upon this occasion, desire you to recol- 
 lect what I laid before you in several of the former 
 discourses. Think of the new light that breaks in 
 upon the understanding, — of the new affections that 
 are enkindled in the heart — of the new resolutions, 
 by which the will is sweetly and powerfully, though 
 most freely, influenced ; — and think of the degree of 
 vigour attending these resolutions, and introducing 
 a series of new labours and pursuits ; — and surely 
 you must confess, that it is the finger of God ; 
 especially when you consider — how beautiful and 
 excellent, as well as how great, the work is. 
 
 Do we acknowledge, that it was the voice of God 
 that first commanded the light to shine out of dark- 
 ness, and that it was worthy of a divine agency to 
 produce so beautiful a creature as the sun, to gild 
 the whole face of our world, and to dress the differ- 
 ent objects around us in such a various and vivid 
 assemblage of colours ? And shall we not allow it 
 to be much more worthy of him, to lighten up a 
 benighted soul, and to reduce its chaos into har- 
 mony and order ? — Was it worthy of God to form 
 the first principles even of the vegetative life, in the 
 lowest plant or herb, and to visit, with the refresh- 
 ing influences of the rain and sun, the eartii where- 
 in these seeds are sown? And is it not much more 
 worthy of him to implant the seed of the divine 
 life, and to nourish it from time to time by the in- 
 fluence of his Spirit ? — Did it suit the divine wis- 
 dom and mercy to provide for sustaining our mortal 
 lives, for healing our wounds, and recovering us 
 from our diseases ? And shall it not much more 
 suit him, to act as the great physician of souls, in 
 restoring them to ease, to health, and vigour ? 
 
 They must be dead indeed to all sense of spiritual 
 excellency, who do not see how much more illus- 
 triously God appears, when considered as the author 
 of grace, than merely as the author of nature. For 
 indeed all the works of nature, and all the instances 
 of divine interposition to maintain its order and 
 harmony, will chiefly appear valuable and impor- 
 tant, when considered in subserviency to the gra- 
 cious design of recovering apostate man from the 
 ruin of that degenerate state, without which it had 
 been far better for film never to have known being, 
 and never to have inhabited a world so liberally 
 furnished with a variety of good. And, therefore, I 
 would appeal to every Christian, whether he does 
 not find a much more ardent gratitude glowing in 
 his heart, when he considers God as the author of 
 the religious and divine, than merely of the animal 
 or the rational, life. 
 
 And permit me here to remark, that, agreeably to 
 
 these reasonings, some of the pagan philosophers 
 have said very serious and remarkable things con- 
 cerning the reality and the need of divine influ- 
 ences on the mind, for the production of virtue and 
 piety there. Thus Seneca, when he is speaking of 
 a resemblance to the Deity in character, ascribes it 
 to the influence of God upon the mind. " Are you 
 surprised," says he, " that man sliould approach to 
 the gods ? It is God that comes to men ; nay, which 
 is yet more, he enters into them ; for no mind be- 
 comes virtuous but by his assistance."* Simplicius 
 also was so sensible of the necessity of such an in- 
 fluence, that he "prays to God, as the father and 
 guide of reason, so to cooperate with us, as to purge 
 us from all carnal and brutish affections, that we 
 may be enabled to act according to the dictates of 
 reason, and to attain to the true knowledge of him- 
 self."t And Maximus Tyrius argues, agreeably to 
 what was said above, that " if skill in the professions 
 and sciences is insinuated into men's minds by a 
 divine influence, we can much less imagine, that a 
 thing so much more excellent, as virtue is, can be 
 the work of any mortal art ; for strange must be the 
 notion that we have of God, to think that lie is 
 liberal and free in matters of less moment, and spar- 
 ing in the greatest." | And in the same discourse 
 he tells us, " that even the best disposed minds, as 
 they are seated in the midst, between the highest 
 virtue and extreme wickedness, need the assistance 
 and the help of God, to incline and lead them to the 
 better sidc."^ — I am sensible that all these philoso- 
 phers, with many more who speak to the same pur- 
 pose, living after Christ's time, may be said to have 
 learned sucii language from Christians ; and if they 
 did so, I wish all wiio have since worn the name had 
 been equally teachable : but some who appeared 
 much earlier, speak much in the same manner, || as 
 I might easily show you, if it were not already more 
 than time to observe, 
 
 * Miraris hnminem ad Deos ire ? Deiisad homines renit, imo, (quod 
 proprius est,) in homines venit : nulla sine Deo mem hona est. He had 
 said hut just hefore, Ascendenlihus manum porri{^unt. iienec, 
 Epistol. LXXIII. 
 
 + \KfTtvta af, Seawoja, t't Trartjp Kat iiytnuiv th cv hf-'v Xo7«, — 
 
 Kui riuv uAo-yMi/ TraBwf, kt\- Simplic. in Kpictet. ad fin. 
 
 X 1%(T« CK€<fa fitv »)7r; tittt^i Ttvt QTtfKvoitt i/'wx"'^ uiOpiiiTTivai': ava- 
 KiHvaaOat, Tit TUTittv ajraviUiTt pov Tr|V apC7t}v cptov ctvut Ttx^'l* t'ulTtlt* 
 rf woWh affov vofli^ftv To Uiiov, Trpof /iei/ Ta ipnvXu Ka\wf Ktii 
 
 atliOoVW^ nilf}f(TK€VUafiCVOl't TTpOV TU Kpt(TTW UTTOpOl'. MQX. Tyf. 
 
 Dissert. XXII 
 
 5 Ai apf^dt i//i'xnf ^uffet?, a^iptcl3t}Tt(rtfjiiu €v fierpitj} rrjf aKpav 
 «ptT»7t, ffpot Ttjv tCTxaTrif /jiox'^npnv Kaywp/ifCT/jei/at, deovTat tvvtitutvt^n 
 Kttt fyXAriTTOpuc Trie CTT* Oin^pa ra Kp€mu3 po7r»JC Kat xcpu^f^T'of. 
 
 Max Tijr. ibid. 
 
 11 It is liere remarkahle, that Xenophon represents Cyrus, with his 
 ilyin;; hreatli, "as luinibly asrribinK it to a divine inHuenre »u liis 
 niiiiil, tliat he had been taught to acknowledge the care of I'rovidi iiee, 
 and to bear his prosperity with a beroutint; moderation." Xen. 
 ("yro|iaed. lib. viii. cap. 7. } I. And Socrates is iiitroduceil, hy Plato, 
 as declaring, "that wheresoever virtue comes, it is appaieritly Ihc fruit 
 of a divine dispensation." I'lat. Men. ad fin. p. 42H. And to this pur. 
 pose Plato has observed, " tliat virtue is not to he tauj;ht hut hy divine 
 a.ssistance." Epinom. pag. 1014. And elsewhere he declares, " that if 
 any man escape the temptations of life, and behave himself as becomes 
 a worthy member of .society, as tlie laws of it are uenerally settled," 
 which, by the way, is something; very far short of religion, "he has 
 reason to own, that it is God that saves him." De Repub. lib. vi. pair, 
 G77. edit. Francof. 1602. 
 
746 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 [3. J That we may fiirtlier argue the divine agency 
 in this blessed w ork, " from the violent opposition 
 over which it prevails in its rise and progress." 
 
 The awakened soul, when labouring towards God, 
 and aspiring after further coinmunieations of his 
 grace to form it for his service, may justly say, with 
 David, " Lord, how are they increased that troul)lc 
 me ! How many arc tliey that rise up against nic !" 
 With how many threatening dangers are we con- 
 tinually surrounded! and what a numerous host of 
 enemies are ready to oppose us ! The law of sin 
 that wars in our members, and concerning whose 
 forces it may well be said. Their name is Legion, 
 for they arc many ; the evil intluence of a degene- 
 rate world, whose corrupt examples press like a 
 torrent, and require the most vigorous efforts to 
 bear up against them ; and in confederacy with 
 these, and at the head of all, the prince of darkness, 
 whose counsels and efforts, with relation to this 
 world of ours, do, as it were, centre in this one 
 thing, to prevent men's regeneration ; because it is 
 by means of this, that those are recovered out of the 
 snare of the devil, who were before led captive by 
 him at his will. 
 
 I persuade myself, that when I am speaking on 
 this head, though some may imagine it to be mere 
 empty harangue, and a common-place of declama- 
 tion, the experienced soul will attest the truth of 
 what I say. It may be some of you, who, by what 
 of these sermons you have already heard, have come 
 under some serious convictions, and been awak- 
 ened in good earnest to be thoughtful about being 
 born again, have felt such a struggle in your own 
 minds, that you may say, you never knew before 
 what the flesh, the world, and the devil were, nor 
 could have imagined that their opposition to this 
 work was so forcible and violent as you now find it. 
 To reform the irregularities of the life is compara- 
 tively easy ; but to root sin out of the soul, to con- 
 secrate the whole heart to God, and demolish those 
 idols that have been set up, as it were, in the secret 
 chambers of imagery, is diificult indeed: all the 
 corruptions of the heart, in such a case, are ready 
 to exert themselves, and it is natural for the lusts of 
 the flesh to unite against that which is set upon de- 
 stroying them all ; nor did you ever know before, 
 that there was such a world of sin within you. 
 With violence also does the strong man armed 
 exert himself, when his goods are about to be taken 
 from him by one stronger than himself ; as our 
 Lord, with an unerring propriety and wisdom, re- 
 presents it : and indeed it seems as if, through the 
 violence of his malignity, and the righteous judg- 
 ment of God, who, whenever he pleases, can take 
 the wise in his own craftiness, that Satan sometimes 
 overshoots his mark, and raises so sensible an op- 
 position against the cause of God in the soul, that 
 an argument might be drawn, even from that very 
 
 opposition, to prove the truth and excellency of 
 what he sets himself so directly against. And you 
 have now i)erhaps experienced too, more than you 
 ever did before, the inveterate opposition of the 
 seed of the serpent to that of the woman : you have 
 found, that since you began to think of religion in 
 good earnest, some have derided you, others, it may 
 be, have reviled you, and enemies have sprung up 
 out of your own house ; though the impressions you 
 have felt tend to make you more amiable, more 
 kind, and more useful, and therefore one would 
 think should conciliate their friendship : but this is 
 a memorable instance in w hich self-love seems to 
 make, as it were, a sacrifice of itself to the liatrcd 
 of God. — Now, therefore, to accomplish such a 
 mighty change in the midst of such opposition, 
 must evidently speak a divine interposition. And 
 surely the Christian, when thus recovered and re- 
 stored, has reason to declare, as Israel did. If it 
 had not been the Lord who was on our side, when 
 these confederate enemies rose up against us, then 
 they had swallowed us up quick, when their wrath 
 was kindled against us ; then the waters had over- 
 whelmed us, the stream had gone over our soul ; 
 then the proud waters had gone over our soul, and 
 would have quenched and buried every spark that 
 looked like divine life, and have borne away every 
 purpose of reformation and holiness. The remark 
 will be further illustrated, if we consider, 
 
 [4.] " By what feeble means this change is ac- 
 complished." 
 
 The apostle observes, that in his day they had 
 the treasure of the gospel lodged in earthen vessels, 
 tliat the excellency of the power, which rendered it 
 successful, might api)ear to be of God, and not of 
 man. And it is still in a great measure apparent, 
 that the same method is made use of, from the same 
 principle. The weapons of our warfare are not 
 carnal ; and if, at any time, they are mighty and 
 effectual, it must be only through God. It is not 
 by secular might or power, that this great work is 
 accomplished : no, nor by the refinements of learn- 
 ing, or the charms of eloquence. These things 
 indeed have their use ; the understanding may 
 sometimes be convinced by the one, and the aflec- 
 tions moved by the other : yet where both these 
 have been done, the work often drops short; and 
 it may be the plainest addresses from a weak and 
 almost trembling tongue, shall perform that which 
 the far superior talents of many have not been able 
 to effect. A multitude of such instances have been 
 found, and perhaps seldom in these latter ages 
 more observable than in the compass of our own 
 observation. 
 
 Now whenever this work is accomplished by the 
 preaching of the gospel in a Christian country, 
 there is generally some circumstance that shows it 
 is a divine, and not a human, work. It is not the 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 747 
 
 novelty of the doctrine which strikes ; for all the 
 main truths, on which the conviction and impres- 
 sion turns, have been known even from early 
 infancy. No miracles awaken the attention, no 
 new discoveries astonish the mind ; but what has a 
 thousand times been heard, and as often neglected, 
 breaks in upon the mind with an almost irresistible 
 energy, and strikes it as if it never liad been heard 
 of before. They seem, as it were, when the Lord 
 turneth again their captivitj', to awaken out of a 
 dream, and wonder at the accident that has awak- 
 ened them. The ministry of the word may seem 
 but feeble, when compared to such an event : and 
 yet sometimes even less solemn methods than that 
 shall be effectual. One single text of Scripture 
 accidentally occurring to the sight or thought, one 
 serious hint dropped in conversation, shall strike 
 the mind, and pierce it through with an energy that 
 plainly shows, that from whatever feeble hand it 
 might seem to come, it was shot out of the quiver 
 of God, and intended by him that made the heart 
 to reach it: since there is almost as much dispro- 
 portion between the cause and the effect, as between 
 Moses lifting up his rod, and the dividing of the 
 water of the sea before Israel. In many instances, 
 remarkable providences, which one would have 
 thought should have struck the soul as it were to 
 the centre, have produced no clfect ; and yet a 
 word, or a thought, has accomplished it: and after 
 the whirlwind, the earthquake, and the fire have 
 made their successive ell'orts in vain, it has appear- 
 ed that the Lord has been in the still small voice. 
 On the whole, a variety of circumstances may 
 illustrate the matter in different degrees ; but, 
 taking it in a general view, the remark appears to 
 be well-founded, " that the weakness of the means 
 by which the saving change is wrought, argues 
 plainly that the hand of God is in it as when 
 anointing the eyes with spittle gave sight to the 
 blind, it was evidently the exertion of a miraculous 
 power. — But now, agreeably to what has been 
 advanced under these several heads, I shall proceed 
 to show at large, 
 
 • [5.] " That the Scripture teaches us to ascribe 
 this great change on the mind to a divine agency 
 and operation." 
 
 And here you will see, that it does not merely 
 drop here and there an expression which is capable 
 of such an interpretation, but that the whole tenor 
 of the word of God leads to such a conclusion ; and 
 surely, if we own the word to be divine, we need 
 no more convincing argument of the truth of this 
 remark. The only diHiciilty I shall here find, will 
 be like that which occurred under the former head, 
 and proceeds from the variety and multiplicity of 
 texts which oiler themselves to me while reflecting 
 on this subject : however, I will endeavour to rank 
 them in the plainest and best order I can, under the 
 
 following particulars. — We find God sometimes 
 promises to produce such a change in men's minds; 
 — and at other times he speaks of it as his own 
 work, when it has been already produced : — the 
 Scripture represents even the increase of piety in a 
 regenerate heart, as the effect of a divine power ; 
 and how much more must the first implanting of it 
 be so — nay, it goes yet further than this, and ex- 
 presses the necessity, as well as the reality, of a 
 divine influence on the mind to make it truly reli- 
 gious, and resolves the want of true religion into 
 this, that God withholds his influence. — If, there- 
 fore, any one, and much more if all these particu- 
 lars, can be made out, I think it must force a 
 conviction on your judgments at least, that what 
 we are endeavouring to confirm in this discourse is 
 the doctrine of Scripture. 
 
 1. There are various places in Scripture wherein 
 " God promises to produce such a change in men's 
 minds as we have before described ;" which plainly 
 shows that it is to be acknowledged as his work. 
 
 Thus Moses says to Israel, without all doubt by 
 the divine direction. The Lord thy God will cir- 
 cumcise thy heart, and the heart of thy seed, to love 
 the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all 
 thy soul, that thou mayest live. And this circum- 
 cision of the heart must surely be the removal of 
 some insensibility and pollution adhering to it, and 
 bringing it to a more orderly, regular, obedient 
 state ; which, as it is sometimes made matter of 
 exhortation, and thus indeed proves that there is a 
 view in which it may be considered as a duty incum- 
 bent upon us ; as when Moses said. Circumcise the 
 fore-skin of your heart ; and .Icremiali, in imitation 
 of him. Circumcise yourselves to the Lord, and take 
 away the forc-skin of your heart; so here it is put 
 in the form of a promise, to signify that, wherever 
 it was done, it was in consequence of God's pre- 
 venting and assisting grace. On the same principle, 
 the Father promises to Christ, Thy people shall be 
 willing in the day of thy power ; and if any pretend 
 that tlicse words may possibly admit of another 
 version, though I know none more just than this, 
 there are many other parallel places which are not 
 attended with any ambiguity at all. — Such, in par- 
 ticular, is that gracious promise, (which, though it 
 was immediately made to the house of Israel, is 
 nevertheless quoted by the apostles as expressive of 
 God's gospel covenant with all believers,) After 
 those days, saith the Lord, I will put my law in 
 their inward parts, and writ*; it in their hearts, and 
 I will be their God, arul they shall be my people; 
 or, as it is elsewhere expressed by the same pro- 
 phet, Jeremiah, I will give them one heart and one 
 way, that they may fear me for ever ; and I will 
 put my fear in their hearts, that they shall not 
 depart from me. — And Ezekicl echoes back the 
 same language by the same Spirit; I will give them 
 
748 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 one licart, and I will put a new spirit within you ; 
 and I will take away the stony heart out of their 
 flesh, and w ill give them a heart of llcsli ; that tlicy 
 may walk in niy statutes, and keep my ordinanees, 
 and do them : which is afterwards repeated again 
 almost in the same words : A new heart also will I 
 give you, and a new spirit will I put w ithin you ; 
 and I will take away the stony heart out of your 
 flesh, and I w ill give you a heart of llcsh ; and I 
 will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to 
 walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judg- 
 ments, and do them. Now, such a transformation 
 of the heart and spirit as may be represented by a 
 thorough renovation, or by changing stone into 
 flesli, speaks the doctrine I am asserting in as plain 
 terms as we could contrive or express, and beauti- 
 fully points out at once the greatness and excel- 
 lency of the change, and the almighty power by 
 which it is effected ; for we may assure ourselves God 
 would never promise such influences, if he did not 
 really mean to impart them. But again, 
 
 2. Agreeably to the tenor of these promises, the 
 " Scripture also ascribes this work to a divine 
 agency, when it is eff"ected." 
 
 Thus the apostle John, when he is speaking of 
 those who, on receiving Christ, become the sons of 
 God, declares concerning them, that they were 
 born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, 
 nor of the will of man, but of God ; plainly 
 intimating that it was to him, and not only or 
 chiefly to themselves or others, that this happy 
 change was to be ascribed ; which is well explained 
 by those words of St. James, in which he says. Of 
 his own will begat he us with the word of truth, 
 that we should be a kind of first-fruits of his crea- 
 tures. Accordingly our Lord, as you have heard at 
 large, insists upon it as absolutely necessary to a 
 man's entering into the kingdom of God, not only 
 that he should be born again, but more particularly 
 that he should be born of the Spirit, /. e. by the 
 sanctifying influence of the Spirit of God operating 
 upon his soul, to purify and cleanse it. And as this 
 great work of regeneration chiefly consists in being 
 brought to faith and repentance, you may observe, 
 that each of these are spoken of as a divine produc- 
 tion in the mind, or as the gift of God to it. Thus 
 the believing Jews, with one consent, expressed 
 their conviction when they hoard the story of Cor- 
 nelius, and declare, Then has God also to the Gen- 
 tiles granted repentance unto life. And so the 
 apostle Paul expresses it, when speaking of the 
 possibility that some might be recovered out of the 
 snare of the devil, lie says. If (Jod peradventure 
 will give them repentance to the acknow ledging of 
 the truth. That very attention to the gospel, which 
 is the first step towards the production of faith in 
 the soul, is resolved into this, when it is said, that 
 the Lord opened Lydia's heart, that she attended to 
 
 the things which were spoken by Paul. And with 
 regard to the progress of it, it is not only said in 
 general. You hath he quickened who were dead in 
 trespasses and sins ; but faith expressly declared to 
 be the gift of God ; and the apostle says to the 
 Philippians, that it was given to them to believe ; 
 nay, it is represented as a most glorious and illus- 
 trious efl'ort of divine power, and ascribed to the 
 exceeding greatness of his power towards them that 
 believe, according to the working of his mighty 
 power, which he wrought in Christ when he raised 
 him from the dead. And in this view it is, that this 
 change is called a new creation ; plainly implying, 
 as a celebrated writer well expresses it, " that 
 something must here be done in us, and for us, 
 which cannot be done by us." Wherefore, it is 
 said, that the new man is renewed in knowledge 
 after the image of him that created him ; and we are 
 his w^orkmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good 
 works : not to insist upon the great variety of 
 parallel passages in which the same tlioughts are 
 expressed almost in the very same words. But 
 he indeed who would reckon up all the scriptures, 
 both in the Old and New Testament, which directly 
 or indirectly refer to this, must transcribe a larger 
 part of both tlian would be convenient to read at 
 one time in a worshipping assembly. But we may 
 further, by a very strong consequence, infer the 
 doctrine I am now maintaining from those various 
 passages of the sacred writers, in which, 
 
 3. " The increase of piety in a heart already re- 
 generated, is spoken of as the work of God." 
 
 Thus David, even when he felt himself disposed 
 to the most vigorous prosecution of religion, so- 
 lemnly declares his dependence upon continued 
 divine influences, to enable him to execute the holy 
 purpose he was then most aflectionately forming: 
 I will run the way of thy commandments, says he, 
 when thou shalt enlarge my heart, or when thou 
 shalt influence it with a steady principle of zeal, 
 and with those devout passions which make every 
 branch of my duty easy and delightful. And the 
 apostle Paul declares his persuasion, that God 
 would continue those gracious influences which he 
 had already imparted : He that has begun a good 
 work in you, will perform it until the day of Jesus 
 Christ. And when he speaks of the ardent desire 
 with which Christians were aspiring towards a bet- 
 ter world, he adds. He that hath wrought us for the 
 self-same thing, is God. Thus also he ascribes 
 his continued fidelity in the ministry to the grace of 
 God that w as with him, as being one that had ob- 
 tained mercy of the Lord to be faithful : And by 
 the grace of God, says he, I am what I am ; and if 
 I have laboured more abundantly than others, it is 
 not I, but the grace of God which was with me. On 
 the same principle he acknowledges, that the suc- 
 cess of ApoUos in watering, as well as his own in 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 749 
 
 planting, was to be referred to this, that God gave 
 the increase in the one case as well as the other. 
 And he concludes his epistle to the Hebrews with 
 this remarkable prayer : The God of peace make 
 j'ou perfect in every good work to do his v.ill, 
 working in you that which is well-pleasing in his 
 sight, through Jesus Christ. But, indeed, as every 
 prayer that the apostles offer for any of their Chris- 
 tian brethren and friends, that they may grow in 
 grace, might be urged for the illustration of this 
 head, I choose rather to refer the rest to your own 
 observation on this general hint, than to enter into 
 a more particular enumeration. I shall only add, 
 to complete the argument, 
 
 4. That the Scripture often declares " the ne- 
 cessity as well as the reality of such influences, and 
 refers the ruin of man to this circumstance, that 
 God in his righteous judgment had withheld or 
 withdrawn them." 
 
 When Moses would upbraid the obstinacy of the 
 Israelites, that all the profusion of wonders wrought 
 for them in Egypt, and in the wilderness, had not 
 produced any suitable impressions ; so much was 
 he accustomed to think of every thing good, in 
 the moral, as well as in the natural, world, as the 
 gift of God, that he uses this remarkable expres- 
 sion : Yet the Lord hath not given you a heart to 
 perceive, and eyes to see, and ears to hear, unto 
 this day. — And our Lord, the propriety of whose 
 expressions surely none can arraign, speaks to the 
 same purpose, when adoring the divine conduct 
 with respect to the dispensation of saving light and 
 gospel blessings, he says, I thank thee, O Father, 
 Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these 
 things from the wise and prudent, and hast reveal- 
 ed them unto babes : even so. Father, for so it 
 seemed good in thy sight. If some of the plainest 
 and lowest of the people, who were in comparison 
 I to others but as -little children, understood and 
 received the gospel, while the learned men and 
 politicians of the age despised it, God revealed it 
 to the former, while he suffered the veil of prejudice 
 I to remain on the mind of the latter, though his 
 almighty hand could easily have removed it. — 
 Those other words of our Lord must not be omitted 
 here, in whicli he says, No man can come unto me, 
 except the Father which hath sent me draw him : and 
 what this drawing of the Father means, he himself 
 has explained by saying. No man can come unto 
 , me, except it be given him of my Father ; and else- 
 I where he expresses it, by learning of the Father ; 
 I all which must undoubtedly signify a divine agency 
 I and influence on the mind. — Nay, a more forcible 
 expression than this is made use of by the evan- 
 gelist, where he takes notice of the unbelief of those 
 that saw the miracles of Christ, Therefore they could 
 not believe, because that Esaias said. He has blinded 
 their eyes, and hardened their hearts: which is 
 
 agreeable to that expression of the apostle Paul, He 
 has mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom 
 he will he hardeneth : a thought which the apostle 
 pursues at large through the following verses. 
 
 These, to be sure, are very emphatical scriptures: 
 and though it is necessary to understand them in 
 such a qualified sense as to make them consistent 
 with other scriptures which charge men's destruc- 
 tion, not on any necessitating decree of God, but 
 upon themselves, and the abuse of their own facul- 
 ties ; yet still these expressions must stand for 
 something ; and in the most moderate sense that 
 can be put upon them, they directly confirm what 
 I have here brought tliem to prove. So that on the 
 whole, the matter must come to this, " That the 
 cause of men's final and everlasting ruin may be 
 referred, in one view of it, to God's withholding 
 those gracious influences, which, if they had been 
 imparted, would indeed have subdued the greatest 
 perverseness : but his withholding these influences 
 is not merely an arbitrary act, but the just punish- 
 ment of men's wickedness, and of their«obstinate 
 folly in trifling with the means of his grace, and 
 grieving his Spirit till it was provoked to with- 
 draw." This thought, which I might largely prove 
 to you to be a compendium of the Scripture scheme 
 reconciles all ; and any consequences drawn from 
 one part of that scheme to the denial of the other, 
 how plausible soever, must certainly be false. 
 
 I hope what I have here said may be sufficient to 
 fix a conviction in your judgments and consciences, 
 " that regeneration is ultimately to be referred to a 
 divine influence upon the soul ;" or as the apostle 
 expresses it in the text, that God saves us of his 
 mercy, by the washing of regeneration, and renew- 
 ing of the Holy Ghost, which he shed on us abun- 
 dantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour. 
 
 I shall conclude with two or three reflections, 
 which though so exceeding obvious, I shall touch 
 upon, in regard to their great importance, without 
 oflering, as I might, to dilate on each of them at 
 large. 
 
 [I.] Let those who have experienced this divine 
 change in their souls give God the glory of it. 
 
 Perhaps there arc many of you who may see pe- 
 culiar reason to do it ; perliaj)s you may be con- 
 scious to yourselves, that the arm of the Lord was 
 remarkably revealed in con(juering every sensible 
 opposition, and getting itself the victory, even 
 when you seemed as if you had been resolutely 
 bent upon your own destruction, to struggle to tlic 
 utmost against the operation of his grace on your 
 soul. Others may perhaps have perceived the 
 strengtli of the divine agency in the slightness of 
 tiie occasion, or in the weakness of the means by 
 which he wrought ; which indeed is often matter of 
 astonishment to those that seriously reflect upon it. 
 But whatever your inclinations may have appeared. 
 
750 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 and wliatcver means or instruments were used, give 
 God the glory of all. 
 
 If you have found yourselves, from your early 
 years, ineliued to attend to divine things, and sus- 
 ceptible of tender impressions from them, that at- 
 tention and those impressions were to be resolved 
 into this, that God prevented you with the blessings 
 of his goodness. If you have enjoyed the most 
 excellent public ordinances, even with all the con- 
 current advantages that the most pressing exhort- 
 ations, and the most edifying example of parents, 
 ministers, and companions could give, it was divine 
 providence that furnished you with those advan- 
 tages, and divine grace that added efficacy to them, 
 else they had only served to display their own 
 weakness, even where they might have appeared 
 most powerful, and to illustrate that insensibility 
 or obstinacy of heart which would have rendered 
 you proof against all. You do well indeed to 
 honour those whom God has blessed as the means 
 of your spiritual edification : but if they think 
 aright, it would grieve them to the very heart to 
 have those applauses given, and those acknowledg- 
 ments made, to them, which arc due to God alone. 
 All they have done is so little, that it deserves not 
 the mention ; and the greater attainments tliey have 
 made in religion, the more cordially will they join 
 with the holy apostle in saying, " Neither is he 
 that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth, 
 but God that giveth the increase." 
 
 [2.] We may further infer, that they who at- 
 tempt the conversion of sinners, should do it with 
 a humble dependence on the cooperation of divine 
 grace. 
 
 Otherwise they will probably find themselves 
 falally disappointed ; and after their most skilful 
 or most laborious attempts, they will complain that 
 they have laboured in vain, and spent their strength 
 for nought ; and find reason to say, The bellows are 
 burnt, and the lead is consumed of the fire, yet the 
 dross is not taken away. A dependence upon God, 
 in all the common afl'airs of life, becomes us, as we 
 are creatures ; and it is most necessary that we 
 should, in all our ways, acknowledge him, as we 
 expect or desire that he should direct or prosper 
 our paths : but the greater the undertaking is, 
 the more solemn should the acknowledgment of 
 God be. 
 
 Let me therefore especially recommend this to 
 those who are coming forth as young officers in the 
 army of Christ. See to it, my brethren, that in the 
 name of your God you set up your banners ; that 
 you apply from time to time to your public work 
 with a deep conviction upon your minds, that no 
 strength of reason will efl'ectually convince, that no 
 eloquence will efTectually persuade, unless he that 
 made men's hearts will plead liis own cause, and 
 bow those hearts in humble subjection. With 
 
 these views I have often known the feeblest at- 
 tempts successful, and the meek and lowly have, 
 out of weakness, been made strong ; while, for 
 want of this, all the charms of composition and de- 
 livery have been, at best, but like the lovely song 
 of one that has a pleasant voice, or the art of one 
 tliat can play well on an instrument. It is those 
 that honour (Jod by the most cordial dependence 
 upon liim tl-.at he delights to honour; and I will 
 presume to say, that it is the inward conviction of 
 this important truth, which I feel upon my soul 
 while I am confirming it in you, that encourages 
 me to hope, that this labour shall not be in vain in 
 the Lord, but that a divine blessing shall evidently 
 attend what has already been delivered and what 
 shall further be spoke. Only let me conclude my 
 present discourse with this one necessary caution, 
 
 [3.] That you do not abuse this doctrine of the 
 necessity' of divine infiucnces, which, from the word 
 of God, has been so abundantly confirmed. 
 
 God does indeed act upon us, in order to pro- 
 duce this happy change ; but he acts upon us in a 
 manner suitable to our rational nature, and not as 
 if we were mere machines. He saves us, as the 
 Scripture expresses it, by awaking us to save our- 
 selves : a new heart does he give us, and a new 
 spirit does he put within us, to stir us up to be so- 
 licitous to make ourselves a new heart and a new 
 spirit: he circumcises our heart to love him, by 
 engaging us to take away the fore-skin of our hearts. 
 You see the correspondency of the phrases, and it 
 is of great importance that yoa attend to it. — If any 
 therefore say, " I will sit still, and attempt nothing 
 for my own recovery, till God irresistibly compels 
 me to it ;" he seems as like to perish, as that man 
 would be, who, seeing the house in flames about 
 him, should not attempt to make his escape, till he 
 felt himself moved by a miracle. Sirs, the depend- 
 ence of the creature on God, though it be especially, 
 yet it is not only, in spiritual affairs ; it runs through 
 all our interests and concerns. We as really de- 
 pend upon his influence to stretch out our hands, 
 as we do to raise our hearts towards him in prayer, 
 Yorr fields could no more produce their fruit with- 
 out his agency, than his word could without it 
 become fruitful in your hearts : yet you plough and 
 sow, and would look upon him as a madman, that 
 upon this principle should decline it, urging that 
 no crop could be expected if God did not produce 
 it ; and that if he pleased to produce it, it would 
 come up without any human labour. The argument 
 is just the same in that case, as when men plead for 
 the neglect of means or endeavours, from the reality 
 and necessity of a divine concurrence. And if they 
 apply this argument to the concerns of their souls, 
 when they do not apply it to those of their bodies, 
 it plainly shows, that they regard their bodies more 
 than their souls ; and that, in pretending to make 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 761 
 
 these excuses, they belie their conscience, and act 
 against the secret conviction of their own heart. 
 Such persons do not deserve to be disputed with, 
 but rather should be solemnly admonished of the 
 danger of such egregious trifling, where eternity is 
 at stake. And sure I am, that it is offering a great 
 affront to the memory of the blessed Paul, when 
 men pretend to encourage themselves in this per- 
 verse temper from any thing he has said. For 
 when he gives us, as it were, the substance of all I 
 have been saying in those comprehensive words, 
 " It is God that worketh in you, both to will and to 
 do, of his good pleasure ;" he is so far from men- 
 tioning it as any excuse for remissness and sloth, 
 that he introduces it professedly in the very con- 
 trary view, as engaging us to exert ourselves with 
 the utmost vigour in a dependence upon that divine 
 operation. And therefore, as he there expresses 
 it, I say with him, Work out your own salvation 
 with fear and trembling ; and if you will not do it, 
 you have reason to tremble in the prospect of a final 
 condemnation from God, aggravated by your having 
 thus irrationally and ungratefully abused the reve- 
 lation of his grace. 
 
 SERMON XXIX. 
 
 OF THE VARIOUS METHODS OF THE DIVINE OPERATION 
 m THE PRODUCTION OF THIS SAVING CHANGE. 
 
 1 CoK. xii. 6. 
 
 There are diversities of operations ; hut it is the same 
 God which worketh all in all. 
 
 Whatever the original sense of these words was, 
 and how peculiarly soever they may relate to the 
 miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit, the whole tenor 
 of the discourse now intended will show, with how 
 much propriety they may, at least, be accommo- 
 dated to tlie operations of his grace. I have proved 
 to you in the last of these Lectures, that wherever 
 regeneration is produced, it is ultimately to be 
 ascribed to a divine agency ; and though I cannot 
 say it is equally important, yet I apprehend it may 
 be both agreeable and useful, to proceed, 
 
 Fifthly, To survey the variety of those methods, 
 •which God is pleased to take in producing this 
 happy change ; or, to borrow the language of the 
 text, to consider the diversity of operations, by 
 which the same God, who worketh all in all, (i. e. 
 who produces all the virtues and graces of the 
 Christian character, in some degree, in all his peo- 
 ple,) is pleased, according to his own wise and 
 
 gracious purposes, to proceed in his agency on 
 those whom he regenerates and saves. 
 
 And this survey will not be matter of mere 
 curiosity, but may probably revive the hearts of 
 some amongst you by the recollection of your own 
 experience : and it may be a caution to others, who, 
 for want of due compass and extent of thought and 
 knowledge, are ready to argue, as if God had but 
 one way to work on the human heart, and that one 
 the particular manner by which he recovered them. 
 Of this I shall speak more largely hereafter. In 
 the mean time, I judged it necessary to premise 
 this hint, to direct us as to the temper with which 
 this discourse should be heard, as well as to the 
 purpose to which it is to be improved. 
 
 Now what I have to offer on this subject v.ill be 
 ranged under these three heads. There is a diver- 
 sity and variety observable — in the time,— the occa- 
 sion, — and the manner, of the divine operations on 
 the soul. 
 
 I. There is an observable variety, " as to the 
 time of God's gracious operations on different per- 
 sons." 
 
 Some are called in their infancy ; — others, and 
 these perhaps the greatest part, are wrought upon 
 in youth ; — and some very few in the advance, and 
 even in the decline, of life. 
 
 1. Some are wrought upon by divine grace " in 
 their infancy." 
 
 This is often the case ; and I doubt not, but if 
 parents were to do their duty, it would much more 
 frequently be so. And it is an honour which God 
 is pleased, in .some instances, remarkably to confer 
 on a good education ; which is indeed so important 
 a duty on one side, and .so great a privilege on the 
 other, that it is tlie less to be wondered at, that he 
 so mercifully encourages Christian parents in the 
 discharge of it ; thus granting, as it were, an im- 
 mediate reward for this labour of love. And I must 
 here take the freedom, on my own observation, to 
 say, that God seems especially to own the faithful 
 endeavours of pious mothers in. this respect. He 
 has wisely and graciously given that .sex a peculiar 
 tenderness of address, and an easy and insinuating 
 manner, which is admirably adapted to this great 
 end, for which, no doubt, he especially intended it, 
 that of conveying knowledge to children, and 
 making tender impressions on their minds : and 
 there is hardly any view in wliich the importance 
 of the sex more evidently appears. 
 
 Wc have encouragement to believe, there are a 
 considerable number who are, as it were, sanctified 
 from the womb, and in whon» the seeds of divine 
 grace arc sown, before they grow up to a capacity of 
 understanding the public preaching of the word : a 
 remark, which Mr. Baxter carries so far as to say, 
 " that he believes, if the duties of religious educa- 
 tion were conscientiously discharged, preaching 
 
752 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 would not be God's ordinary method of convcrlins 
 souls ; but the {greater part would be wrought upon 
 before they were capable of entering into the design 
 of a sermon." And indeed it seems to me, that 
 children may early eome to have some apprehen- 
 sions of what is most important in religion. Tlicy 
 may liave a reverence for God, and a love for him, 
 as that great Father who made them, and that kind 
 Friend who gives tiiem every thing that they have ; 
 they may have a fear of doing any thing that would 
 displease him : and though it is not so easy fortliem 
 to understand the doctrines peculiar to a Redeemer, 
 yet when they hear of Christ, as the Son of God, 
 who came down from heaven to teach men and 
 children the way thither ; who loved them, and did 
 them good every day, and at last died to deliver 
 them from death and hell ; their little hearts may 
 well be impressed with such thoughts as these, and 
 they may hnd a growing desire to be instructed in 
 what Christ is, and what he taught and did, and to 
 do what shall appear to be his will. And wherever 
 this is the prevailing disposition, it seems to me that 
 the seeds of holiness are sown in that soul, though 
 but small prolicieney may be made in knowledge, 
 and though the capacities for service may be very 
 low. 
 
 I will add, that some remarkably pertinent and 
 solid things, which little children have said con- 
 cerning religion, seem to me plainly to evidence, 
 that they have been, in many instances, under some 
 uncommon teachings of the divine Spirit: and it 
 seems perfectly suitable to the genius of Christiani- 
 ty, that in this sense God should ordain strength 
 out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, and 
 should reveal to them what he has suflTcred to be 
 hidden from the wise and prudent. Nor can I sup- 
 pose it hard for any, who have been for a consider- 
 able time acquainted with the state of religion in 
 Christian societies, to recollect various instances, 
 in which persons thus early taught of God, who 
 have heard, and known, and loved the Scriptures, 
 and delighted in ordinances and serious discourse 
 from their childhood, have been, in some measure, 
 like Samuel, Obadiah, Jeremiah, Josiah, and 
 Timothy, honoured with eminent usefulness in the 
 church, and have happily filled some of its most 
 important stations of service. Almost every age 
 has afl'orded instances of this ; and I am persuaded, 
 many are now growing up amongst us, who will be 
 instances of it in ages yet to come. 
 
 2. Others, and these perhaps the greatest part of 
 real Christians, are w rought upon " in their youth- 
 ful days." 
 
 Many parents are very deficient in a due care to 
 cultivate the infant minds of their little ones ; or 
 the feeble and general impressions then made, are, 
 perhaps, worn out and lost, in the growing vanities 
 of childhood and youth. They begin to be drawn 
 
 away by evil inclinations and examples, and by the 
 delusions of a flattering world, which then puts on 
 its most attractive charms, to gain upon their unex- 
 perienced minds : and hereupon they follow after 
 vanity, and become vain : of the Rock which begat 
 them they grow unmindful, and forget the God that 
 formed them. But by one method or another, God 
 often stops them in this dangerous career ; and 
 awakening ordinances, or more awakening provi- 
 dences, bring them to a stand, and turn them the 
 contrary way. The terrors of the Lord set them- 
 selves in array against them ; or his mercy melts 
 their souls, and they yield themselves its willing 
 captives. They consecrate their hearts, warm as 
 tliey are with youthful vigour, to be the sacrifices 
 of divine love, and enter, it may be, very early into 
 the bonds of God's covenant ; and so prove such a 
 seed to serve him, as is accounted to the Lord for a 
 most honourable and useful generation. Blessed 
 be God, I speak to many who know this by expe- 
 rience ! By far the greater part of those who have 
 been admitted to your communion, since I settled 
 among you, have been, as I apprehend, under the 
 age of twenty-four years : and several of those, who 
 were further advanced in life when they first ap- 
 proached the table of the Lord, had been brought to 
 real religion in their much earlier years ; though 
 particular circumstances, or some mistaken appre- 
 hensions, might prevent their giving up their names 
 publicly to the Lord, so soon as they might, and as 
 they ought to have done it. 
 
 3. Some few are wrought upon by divine grace 
 " in the advance, and even in the decline, of life." 
 
 I confess that the number of these is compara- 
 tively small : and it is not to be wondered at, that 
 it is so. There are not many who arrive to what 
 can properly be called old age ; and of them but a 
 very inconsiderable part are then brought to any 
 thing which looks like a saving change. Nor shall 
 we be much surprised at this, if we consider the in- 
 veterate nature of bad habits, which renders it al- 
 most as hard for them that are accustomed to do 
 evil, to learn to do good, as it is for the Ethiopian 
 to change his skin, or the leopard his spots. To 
 such a degree are prejudices rivetted in the mind, 
 so insensible is it rendered of tender and generous 
 impressions, so cold are the atfections, and the 
 memory (if the phrase may be allowed) so rigid, 
 that, humanly speaking, there is much less proba- 
 bility of their being impressed with religion, than 
 there was when they were in the bloom of life; 
 notwithstanding all the seeming advantages which 
 might arise from riper reason, deeper experience, 
 and a nearer prospect of eternity. In all these 
 things, it is in vain to reason against observation of 
 fact, since we evidently see how uncommon a thing 
 it is, for persons to be awakened and reformed in 
 old age i especially if they have been educated in 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 753 
 
 tbe principles of religion, anu have made a florid 
 profession of it in their youth, from which they have 
 afterwards apostatized, out of a love to the wealth 
 or honours of the world, or a reJish for sensual de- 
 lights. Such persons generally live and die monu- 
 ments of divine wrath, bearing, as it were, in cha- 
 racters dreadfully legible, the sad inscription of 
 those, " who, having forsaken God, are finally for- 
 saken of him." They appear as dry trees, twice 
 dead, and fit for nothing but to be plucked up by 
 the roots, and cast into the fire. 
 
 Nevertheless, to prove the infinite energy and 
 sovereignty of divine grace, God is sometimes 
 pleased to work even on such. He touches the 
 rock which has stood for ages unmoved, and the 
 waters flow forth : he says to the dry bones. Live, 
 and they obey ; they are clothed with beauty, they 
 are animated with life, and stand up as with the 
 vigour of a renewed youth, to pursue the labours 
 of religion, and to fight the battles of the Lord. 
 Such instances, in which aged sinners have been 
 thus wrought upon, I have read and heard ; though 
 (I grieve to say it) I can recollect very few, if any, 
 that have occurred to me within the sphere of my 
 own personal observation and acquaintance. 
 
 But besides this variety in the time, there is also, 
 11. An observable diversity " in the occasion 
 which divine grace takes to operate upon different 
 persons." 
 
 The occasions are indeed so various, that it would 
 be impossible to enumerate them : I shall, bow- 
 ever, just touch on some of the chief. 
 
 And here I might particularly consider a reli- 
 gious education in this view, and that daily con- 
 verse with pious friends, which is of course con- 
 nected with it. But though, perhaps, there may 
 be no occasion more considerable in itself, and 
 none that has been more eminently honoured of 
 God ; yet it is proper to wave it here, as having 
 been mentioned under the former head, as well as 
 much more largely illustrated in my sermons on 
 that subject, which are in most of your houses, and 
 which, I hope, you will often review. 
 
 I proceed, therefore, further to observe,- — that 
 some are wrought upon by the word of God ; — 
 others by some remarkable providence ; — some by 
 little incidents, which, inconsiderable as they 
 seem in themselves, grow memorable by the noble 
 effects they are made to produce ; — and ofliers by 
 secret and immediate impressions of God upon 
 their spirits, which cannot be resolved into any ex- 
 ternal cause, or any visible occasion at all. 
 
 1. " The administration of divine ordinances, and 
 especially the word of God and prayer," is an oc- 
 casion, which he most frequently takes to work 
 upon men's hearts by his grace. 
 . I do not mention the administration of the sacra- 
 ments upon this occasion ; because, though they 
 .'3 c 
 
 have so noble and effectual a tendency to improve 
 men's minds in piety, and to promote Christian 
 edification ; yet I do not remember to have heard 
 of any instance, in which they have been the means 
 of men's conversion ; which is the less to be 
 wondered at, as they are appointed for a very 
 difl'erent end. 
 
 There are many, however, that have been wrought 
 upon in prayer, as there are many things concur in 
 this to awaken and impress the mind. The solemn 
 acknowledgments then made of the divine perfec- 
 tions, the praises offered to his tremendous Majesty, 
 the deep and humble confession of our various and 
 aggravated guilt in his holy presence, the lamenta- 
 tions over it, the importunate pleadings for a 
 variety of blessings, bofli for time and eternity ; in 
 a word, all the overflowings of pious affections in 
 the breast of him that leads the devotion, and 
 especially the earnest entreaties then offered for 
 unconverted sinners, the genuine expressions of an 
 undissembled apprehension of their danger, and 
 the fervent breathings after divine grace, to be 
 communicated to them for their spiritual life: all 
 these things, I say, and many more, which occur in 
 prayer, when it is managed aright, may, by the 
 divine blessing, be singularly useful. And I am 
 well assured, there have been happy instances, in 
 which, while God's people have yet been speaking 
 to him on this head, he has graciously heard and 
 signally answered them. 
 
 But the reading, and especially the preaching, of 
 the word, is the grand occasion and instrument in 
 the conversion of souls. Of his own will he begets 
 them with the word of truth : and it is admirably 
 suited to those saving impressions which it is 
 intended to make on the heart, being quick and 
 powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword. 
 It was while Paul was preaching, that the Lord 
 opened Lydia's heart, so that she attended to the 
 things which were spoken by him: and it was while 
 Peter was thus employed, that such vast n\ultitudes 
 were pricked in their hearts, and said to him, and 
 to the rest of the apostles present. Men and brethren, 
 what shall we do .' And I am well persuaded, that, 
 various and lamentable as the instances arc, in 
 which men stop their ears, and harden their hearts 
 against it, God does not even to this day leave it 
 without witness ; but the terrors of the Lord, as 
 displayed by his faithful ministers, have subdued 
 their thousands, and the riches of his grace their 
 ten thousands, when illustrated by those who have 
 not only heard, but have themselves tasted, of their 
 sweetness. The preaching of the cross may indeed 
 to them that perish be foolishness ; but blessed be 
 his name that died upon it, there is still a happy 
 remnant, to whom it appears to be the power of 
 God, and the wisdom of God. Evangelical sub- 
 jects, when opened with perspicuity, and enforced 
 
7o4 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 witli vigour and tenderness, by those tliat have 
 expeiienccd the transforming; cncrpy of them on 
 their own hearts, and desire, above all thingjs, to be 
 wise to win tlie souls of others, arc generally the 
 oceasion of piodueing the most immediate, and the 
 most important, change ; as I doubt not, but many 
 now present have seen and felt. And the observ- 
 ation of every year of life convinces me more and 
 more, that they who desire to be signally instru- 
 mental in this good work, this work, of all others, 
 the most benevolent and important, must, in the 
 account of a vain world, become fools, that they 
 may be wise. How contemptuously soever it may 
 he fashionable to treat such preaching, we must 
 make tliese subjects familiar to our hearers, and 
 must treat them with all plainness of speech, and 
 all seriousness of address, or we shall generally 
 labour in vain, and spend our strength for nought. 
 Would to God, that the teachers of our Israel may 
 consider the importance of it, and grow wise by 
 such experiments as these ! that they may act the 
 part of prudent physicians, who prescribe the 
 medicines they find in fact most useful, and not those 
 concerning which the finest speculations may be 
 framed. Till then, whatever their learning, polite- 
 ness, and parade may be, it cannot be expected 
 that our healtli should be generally recovered ; but 
 we are like to continue, what we have long been, 
 a vicious people, amidst the finest encomiums of 
 virtue, that are any where to be found : nor will 
 there be much room to wonder, if some of its most 
 eloquent advocates should appear, even in their 
 own practice, insensible of tliose charms w hi(;h they 
 so gracefully recommend to others, and sink in their 
 character below those heathen moralists, whom 
 they may choose to imitate, rather than Christ and 
 his apostles. Nevertheless I am persuaded, that if 
 God intend mercy for us as a people, he will sup- 
 port among us a succession of those who shall dis- 
 pense his ordinances in such a manner, as he has 
 generally chosen to honour with success. But 
 though the greater part of sincere converts are 
 reduced by these, I am to add, 
 
 2. That " remarkable providences, whether mer- 
 ciful or afllietive," are occasions which God lakes 
 to work upon the hearts of many others. 
 
 \Mien ordinances have long been attended in 
 vain, God perhaps interposes, by other more pecu- 
 liar and signal methods, to pluck the trifling and 
 lethargic sinner as a firebrand out of the burning. 
 
 Sometimes remarkable mercies and deliverances 
 accomplish the work. An appearance of God in 
 their favour, when they are conscious to themselves 
 that they are the unworlhiest of all his creatures, 
 shall shame and melt them, and powerfully prevail 
 on their minds to turn unto the Lord ; who daily 
 loads them with his benefits, and thus seems, in 
 more senses than one, to send from heaven to save 
 
 them, and to draw them out of many waters, in 
 which they had otherwise been lost. 
 
 But we more frequently sec, that afflictions are 
 the means of performing this happy work. By a 
 gracious severity God is pleased to lay hold on 
 many, and to give them reason to bless the hand, 
 which, though by a rough motion, delivers them 
 from the flames that were kindling around them, 
 and shows the Lord to be merciful to them. Like 
 Jonah in the ship, they are awakened by a storm, 
 to call upon their God : like Manasseh, they are 
 taken among the thorns, and laid in fetters, that 
 they may be brought to know the Lord : like the 
 jailer, they are shaken with an earthquake, and, 
 trembling and astonished they fall down, and in- 
 quire what they shall do to be saved ? The terri- 
 fying fear of the approach of death, or the distress- 
 ing weight of some calamity, which threatens every 
 moment to swallow them up in destruction, rouses 
 their consciences to an attention to those divine 
 truths which they had long forgotten, and open 
 those records of guilt which they had studiously 
 sealed up. 
 
 And there seems to be no aflliction by which God 
 more frequently works upon men than by sickness. 
 When he weakens their capacity for the business of 
 life, and spoils their relish for its enjoyments ; when 
 he confines them to their chambers, or even to their 
 beds, and makes their chain strait and heavy ; when 
 he threatens to take them away in the midst of their 
 days, to deprive them of the residue of their years, 
 and immediately to bring them before that awful 
 tribunal, for which they know, in their own eon- 
 sciences, they are so ill prepared : then do we often 
 see the accomplishment of that observation which 
 Elihu made so many ages ago ; He chasteneth a 
 man with pain upon his bed, and the multitude of 
 his bones with strong pain, so that his life abhorreth 
 bread, and his soul dainty meat; his flesh is con- 
 sumed away, that it cannot be seen ; and his bones, 
 that were not seen, stick out; yea. his soul draweth 
 near to the grave, and his life to the destroyers: 
 but sending him an interpreter, one among a thou- 
 sand, to show unto man his uprightness, then he is 
 gracious to him, and saith, in a spiritual as well as 
 a literal sense, Deliver him from going to the pit, I 
 have found a ransom. Blessed be God, instances 
 of this kind have been know n, and known among 
 us, in which the sickness of the body has wrought 
 the cure of the soul, under the conduct of the great 
 Physician of both ; and so has proved eminently to , 
 the glory of God, and the good of those who, for a 
 while, have been in heaviness. 
 
 Yet it must be acknowledged, that, in other in- 
 sfanceSy the remorse which a man expresses upon a 
 sick bed, and in the near views of eternity, proves 
 but like that of some condemned malefactor, who, 
 when he has obtained a pardon, throws off all those • 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 755 
 
 appearances of repentance with which he had once 
 deceived himself, and perhaps deceived others too, 
 and plunges himself anew into capital crimes ; it 
 may he, into crimes for which he afterwards suffers 
 death, without those compunctions of conscience 
 which he before felt, being hardened by a return 
 into sin, attended with such dreadful aggravations. 
 — This has been the case of many ; and I pray God 
 it may not be tlius with any of you. But if there 
 be any among you that were once under powerful 
 awakenings ; any that have cried out of terrors on 
 every side ; that have confessed your sins, it may 
 be, with greater freedom, and a more particular 
 detail of circumstances, tlian the minister who 
 attended you could have desired, and have resolved 
 against them with all the appearances of the most 
 determinate purpose; and yet, after all, have re- 
 turned with the sow that was washed, to lier wallow- 
 ing in the mire ; such have peculiar reason to be 
 alarmed and terrified. Every day of divine patience 
 toward such is astonishing. And if to all this have 
 been added the returns of danger, and signal inter- 
 positions of Providence for your deliverance, and 
 yet there be no kindly impressions of penitence and 
 gratitude on your hearts, they who know the par- 
 ticulars of the case, must surely look upon you w ith 
 horror as well as with wonder: for what can one 
 imagine of such, but that they are given over by 
 God to a darkness, which nothing but the Hamcs of 
 hell can enlighten, and a hardness, which nothing 
 can penetrate but the sharpness of unquenchable 
 fire, and the gnawings of the never-dying worm f 
 
 But to return from a digression, into which com- 
 passion towards such a deplorable case has insen- 
 sibly led nic, I would further observe, that as these 
 various interpositions of a remarkable providence 
 are often the means of working saving impressions 
 on men's minds, so, 
 
 3. God is sometimes pleased to overrule " little 
 and inconsiderable incidents in life," as the occa- 
 sion of accomplishing this happy change. 
 
 As the treasure of the gospel was at first put into 
 earthen vessels, that the excellency of llic power 
 might appear to be of God, and not of man ; so God, 
 to make his own praise glorious, is sometimes 
 pleased to produce the most important effects, by 
 causes which seem in themselves least considerable. 
 And it is astonishing to see from liow small and 
 seemingly unpromising a seed this plant of paradise 
 springs up, and with how little cultivation loo in 
 some instances, after Paul had long attempted in 
 vain to plant, and Apollns to water. — A few lines in 
 the Bible, or any other good book, periiaps taken 
 up hy chance, sliall be the instrument ; and a pas- 
 sage, on which the eye glances without expectation 
 or design, shall strike to the heart, like an arrow 
 from the bow of God himself, after quivers of the 
 most pointed and polished shafts have been cx- 
 3 c 2 
 
 hausted in vain, though such shafts were most skil- 
 fully aimed, and most vigorously discharged. — In 
 other instances, a word dropped iu conversation, 
 and that perhaps no way remarkable either for its 
 spirit and propriety, shall do that which the most 
 solemn ordinances have not been capable of doing : 
 an important encouragement, by the way, to abound 
 in religious discourse, which God has sometimes 
 been pleased to honour as the happy means of 
 saving a soul from death, and laying a foundation 
 for the delights of an everlasting friendship with 
 those w^ho have been so recovered. 
 
 4. Sometimes this great work is accomplished 
 " by secret and immediate impressions from God 
 upon the mind," without any visible means, instru- 
 ments, or occasions at all. 
 
 These things do not frequently happen ; nor does 
 it seem fit they should, lest any should be en- 
 couraged to expect them in the neglect of the 
 appointed means. Nevertheless it is plain, in fact, 
 that God is sometimes pleased to go out of the 
 common way ; and his mighty hand is to be ac- 
 knowledged in it. The reasons are known to him- 
 self ; and the praise is humbly to be ascribed to 
 him, who giveth not an account of any of his 
 matters. 
 
 It is not, to be snrc, .so common now a.s it w as in 
 the days of Elihu, that God should speak to men in 
 a dream, or seal instructions to them in slumberings 
 on their bed : yet I have myself known several who 
 have ascribed their first religious awakenings to 
 some awful dream, in which the solemnity of the 
 judgment-day, or a view of the invisible world, has 
 been represented to them with unspeakable terror ; 
 and others to whom, when they have waked in the 
 night, some words of Scripture have occurred with 
 such power, that they have not been able to divert 
 their thoughts to any thing else ; and that, wlien 
 they themselves have not certainly known whether 
 they M ere in the Bihle or not. 
 
 I have known those that, in the circle of their vain 
 companions, and in the midst of their sensual de- 
 lights, have been struck lo the very heart with some 
 such scripture as this ; To be carnally minded is 
 death : or such a text as this has on a sudden 
 darted into their minds ; The wrath of God is re- 
 vealed from heaven against all ungodliness and 
 unrighteousness of men. Such passages have 
 seemed to ring and thunder in their cars, till the 
 sound of their music, and the noise of their mirth, 
 have been quite overpowered, so that they have 
 been driven from their revels to their knees, and 
 have returned no more into the paths of the de- 
 stroyer. 
 
 Yea, to add no more instances of this kind, T 
 have known those of distinguished genius, polite 
 manners, and great experience in human affairs, 
 who, after having outgrov/n all the impressions of 
 
766 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 €i religious education ; after having been hardened, 
 rather than subdued, by the most singular mercies, 
 even various, repeated, and astonishiiijy deliver- 
 ances, which liavc appeared to themselves no less 
 than miraculous ; after having lived for years with- 
 out God in the world, notoriously corrupt them- 
 selves, and lal)ouring to the utmost to corrupt 
 others, have been stopped on a sudden in the full 
 career of their sin, and have felt sucli rays of tlie 
 divine presence, and of rcdeeniing love, darting in 
 upon theirminds, almost like liglitning from heaven, 
 as have at once roused, overpowered, and transform- 
 ed them, so that they have come out of their secret 
 chambers with an irreconcilable enmity to those 
 vices, to which, when they entered them, they were 
 the tamest and most abandoned slaves ; and have 
 appeared from that very hour the votaries, the 
 patrons, the champions of religion ; and after a 
 course of the most resolute attachment to it, in spite 
 of all the reasonings or the railleries, the importu- 
 nities or the reproaches, of its enemies, they have 
 continued to this day some of its brightest orna- 
 ments ; a change which I behold with equal won- 
 der and delight, and which, if a nation should join 
 in deriding it, I would adore as tlie finger of God. 
 
 In mentioning these tilings thus publicly, I do 
 indeed take an uncommon freedom, which some 
 may perhaps censure ; but so far as human testi- 
 mony can give an assurance of truth, I may justly 
 say that I speak what I know, and testify what, in 
 its genuine and powerful effects, I have myself 
 seen. And since the possibility of abusing such 
 condescensions of divine mercy did not prevent their 
 being granted, I cannot think it ought to engage 
 me to be silent, when so natural an opportunity 
 olfered of declaring thcni, to the glory of him who 
 worketh all things according to the counsel of his 
 own will. Yet I must repeat the caution which I 
 before suggested, that it would be madness for any 
 to neglect God's appointed means of operation, on 
 presumption that they shall be added to the small 
 list of those who have been such uncommon and 
 astonishing trophies of the eflicacy and sovereignty 
 c f divine grace. 
 
 These remarks must for the present suffice, with 
 regard to the various occasions by which God works 
 upon men's minds ; and I hope you will excuse 
 mc, if, in illustrating some of them, I have a little 
 anticipated some things which might have been men- 
 tioned under the third head, in v. liich I proposed, 
 
 III. To consider some varieties observable in 
 " the manner in which divine grace operates on the 
 mind." 
 
 And this variety, by the way, will be observable 
 in many instances where the occasions are in gene- 
 ral the same. Thus among those that are awaken- 
 ed by the word of God, or by his providence, — some 
 are shaken by strong tenors ; — somo are melted 
 
 down into deep sorrow ; — others are astonished, as it 
 were, and captivated at once, by the discovery of 
 the love of God in Christ ; — and others are led on 
 by such gentle and gradual impressions, that they 
 can hardly recollect any remarkable circumstance 
 at all relating to the manner in which this blessed 
 work was begun or conducted in their souls. 
 
 1. Some converts are " awakened by strong 
 terrors." 
 
 It is obvious, tliat conviction of sin, in some de- 
 gree or another, is absolutely necessary to make 
 way for the entrance of the gospel into the soul. 
 But the degrees are various in difierent persons ; 
 and as for those of whom we now speak, God re- 
 proves them aloud, and sets their sins in order be- 
 fore them, marshals them in dreadful array, as the 
 expression imports ; so that they seem like defence- 
 less creatures surrounded with a whole host of 
 enemies, whose weapons are raised for their de- 
 struction. Yea, God himself, the great, the terri- 
 ble, the eternal, and omnipotent God, seems to set 
 them up as a mark for those arrows, the poison of 
 which drinkcth up their spirits ; and, as he himself 
 expresses it, He is unto them as a bear, or a lion, 
 ready to tear and rend the very caul of their heart. 
 They come, as it were, to the trembling and terri- 
 fying mountain of Sinai, to blackness, and dark- 
 ness, and tempest. The conviction of guilt is 
 attended with such a sense of the demerit of sin, as 
 (ills them w'ith horror and astonishment, and en- 
 gages them to wish, in the bitterness of their souls, 
 tliat they had never been born. They are left for a 
 time, and that perhaps for weeks and months, to 
 be, as it were, deafened with the loud thunders of 
 tlie law : a dreadful sound, as Eliphaz expresses 
 it, is in their ears, even the sentence of their own 
 damnation ; and the awful curse of an almighty 
 sin-avenging God comes into their bowels like 
 water, and like oil into their bones. They are filled 
 witli such deep remorse for their past sins, that they 
 verily think no iniquity was ever like theirs, and 
 that no punishment will be like theirs. Tliey 
 iiardly see a glimmering of hope that they shall 
 obt;iin deliverance, but expect, in a very little 
 while, to be sealed up under wrath, if they are not 
 already so. When they hear the olTers and the 
 promises of the gospel, they can apply none of 
 them to themselves, and find comfort in none : but 
 every threatening and every curse of the book of 
 God seems to have been written as their intended 
 portion. And thus, perhaps, they continue for 
 weeks or for months together, expecting every day 
 and every night that destruction from God, which 
 is now a terror to them, should utterly swallow 
 them up, and leave them neither root nor branch, 
 neither comfort nor hope. The law is a school- 
 master to bring them to Christ, and it scourges 
 them with most rigorous discipline : yea, the in- 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 757 
 
 fernal lion roars over them, though he is not per- 
 mitted to devour them : he particularly terrifies 
 them when they think of approaching God, as if 
 they were to meet with some peculiar danger there, 
 where alone they can find their relief: or, if they 
 do in broken accents utter their prayer before God, 
 it seems to be shut out, and they are apprehensive 
 that it is turned into sin. Yet there is one thing 
 to be observed in the midst of this scene of horror, 
 and it is a circumstance of great importance ; " that 
 they justify God when he seems most inexorable, 
 and subscribe to that sentence as righteous which 
 dooms them to eternal ruin." 
 
 2. Others are " melted into deep sorrows." 
 
 Their eyes run down with tears ; and they are 
 ready to wish that their head were waters, and their 
 eyes fountains, that they might continue to weep 
 day and night. They see the evil of sin, and the 
 misery to which it has reduced them, in a most de- 
 plorable view ; and it may be, while those described 
 under the former head are ready to tremble because 
 they cannot weep, these are ready to weep because 
 they cannot tremble. They lament, among other 
 things, the want of those strong horrors which some 
 have felt: they cry out, " Woe is me, for f am un- 
 done ; I have destroyed myself, and in myself is not 
 my help found :" and it may be, they are a consider- 
 able time before they can persuade themselves there 
 is any help for them, even in God. They know 
 there is help in him through Christ for penitent 
 and believing sinners : but they cannot easily be 
 convinced that they believe, because they do not 
 feel that confident trust which some others have 
 much sooner been brought to ; and they are afraid, 
 lest whatever they experience, which looks like 
 repentance, should be only the false appearance of 
 _ it, proceeding from mere self-love, and a natural 
 dread of future misery. They dwell perpetually 
 on the dark side of things ; they read over the ca- 
 talogue of their iniquities again and again, and 
 attend to those passages in which the wrath of God 
 is revealed from heaven against every kind and 
 degree of sin; while they are slow of heart to ad- 
 mit those reviving consolations which the various 
 rich and precious promises of the gospel are so 
 admirably well calculated to administer. 
 
 The state of such souls, when they are first 
 savingly enlightened, is like that of the earth, 
 when fogs and mists have veiled the face of the 
 sun after it is risen. But it very often happens, 
 with respect to such souls, that when these mists 
 are at length dispersed, a very bright and cheerful 
 day opens ; they are comforted by the warmer 
 beams of the Sun of righteousness, according to 
 the hours in which they have been beclouded, and 
 are made glad according to the days in which they 
 were afllicted ; and going on to fear the Lord, and 
 to obey the voice of his servant, though they have 
 
 long walked in darkness, and seen no light, they 
 are at length encouraged by his Spirit enforcing 
 the exhortations of his word, to trust in the name 
 of the Lord, and stay themselves upon their God. 
 
 .3. Some are " captivated with astonisliing and 
 delightful views of the love of God in Christ." 
 
 There is always, as we observed before, in the 
 awakened soul some conviction of sin and appre- 
 hension of danger ; nevertheless, there are instances 
 in which God heals almost as soon as he wounds, 
 and speaks peace almost as soon as he speaks 
 trouble. He graciously shortens, to some souls, 
 the pangs of the new birth, and gives them beauty 
 for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the gar- 
 ment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. The news 
 of salvation by the blood, and righteousness, and 
 grace of Christ, is received w ith so thankful a sense, 
 with so joyful a compliance, that the soul, feeling 
 beyond all doubt the cordial sincerity with which 
 it embraces the offer, is filled w ith joy unspeakable? 
 and full of glory ; the heart does magnify the Lord, 
 and the spirit rejoices in God its Savioui . 
 
 This was remarkably the ease of the jailer, who 
 in the very night in wliich he was converted, that 
 same night in ^^ hich the foundation of his house 
 had been shaken, and his own soul too shaken, by 
 an earthquake, so that he had endeavoured to lay 
 vioIe!it hands upon himself: yet, I say, that very 
 night, before the day appeared, having been direct- 
 ed to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, that he 
 might be saved, and been enabled, by divine grace, 
 to comply with the exhortation, it is added concern- 
 ing him, that he rejoiced, believing in God, with all 
 his house. — Thus too the Tliessalonians, though they 
 received the word in much afllictiou, and ran the 
 risk of losing their possessions and their lives in 
 adhering to it, yet received it with joy of the Holy 
 Ghost. And though I cannot say this is God's most 
 ordinary way of dealing, and though I fear the 
 counterfeit appearance of such a work as this often 
 leaves men in the number of those whom our Lord 
 represents by stony-ground hearers; yet it is certain, 
 some instan(X's of this kind are still to be found. But 
 then I must observe, this is a joy attended with the 
 deepest humility, and animates the soul to the most 
 ardent and all'cctionafe resolution of walking wor- 
 thy of the Lord unto all pleasing; being strengthen- 
 ed with all might, according to his glorious power, 
 unto all patience, and long-suffering witli joyful- 
 ness. 
 
 4. Others, and these perhaps the greatest part of 
 such as are religiously educated, are " led on by 
 such gentle and insensible degrees, that they can 
 hardly recollect any remarkable circumstances that 
 have attended tJieir conversion, nor can certainly 
 fix on the particular time of it." 
 
 God is sometimes, as in the preceding instances, 
 in the whirlwind, the earthquake, and the fire; but 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 lie is also frotiucntly in the slill small voice. The 
 operations of tlie Holj Spirit on the soul arc often, 
 and perhaps generally, of such a nature, that it is 
 (litricult exactly to distinguish them from the 
 rational exercise of our own thoughts, because the 
 Spirit operates by suggesting rational views of 
 things, and awakening rational all'eclions. For 
 ■whatever some have vainly and dangerously in- 
 sinuated, nothing is so rational as the sentiments 
 and temper which prevail in renewed souls, and to 
 w hich it is the work of God's regenerating Spirit to 
 bring them. 
 
 These operations, where there is a religious edu- 
 cation, often begin very early ; but then, in some 
 tlcgrcc, the impressions wear ofl" from the weak and 
 ilexible mind ; and perhaps tliere are various in- 
 stances in whicli tlicy alternately revive and decay 
 again. And this vicissitude of afl'ectionate appli- 
 cations to religion, (under moving ordinances, afllic- 
 tions, or deliverances,) and of backslidings and 
 remissness in it, may be permitted, with respect to 
 many, to continue for a long time. At length, 
 under the various methods of providence and 
 grace, the soul arrives to greater steadiness, and a 
 more habitual victory over the remainders of in- 
 dwelling sin : but it may be exceeding hard, and 
 perhaps absolutely impossible, to determine con- 
 cerning some remarkable scenes through which it 
 has passed, whether such a one in particular, per- 
 haps the last which strikes the memory, were the 
 season of its new birth ; or whether it were merely a 
 recovery from such a degree of negligence and re- 
 missness, as may possibly be consistent with real 
 religion, and be found in a regenerate soul. 
 
 These balancings of backsliding and recovery 
 often occasion very great perplexity ; and such sort 
 of converts are frequently much discouraged, be- 
 cause tliey cannot give the history of their religious 
 experiences in so clear and distinct a manner as 
 others ; and particularly, because they have not 
 passed through such violent terrors and agitations 
 of mind as many, who were perhaps once sunk into 
 much deeper degeneracy, have done. Nevertlie- 
 less, where there is a consciousness of an undis- 
 semblcd love to God, an unreserved devotedness to 
 his service, a cordial trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and a sincere affection to mankind in general, and 
 especially to those of the household of faith, a man 
 ought not to perplex himself on this account. For 
 as every nian knows he was born into the world, by 
 a consciousness that he now lives and acts here, 
 though it is impossible he should remember any 
 thing of the time or circumstances in which he was 
 first produced into it ; so may a Christian be as- 
 sured that, some way or another, he was born of the 
 Spirit, if he can trace its genuine fruits and eflica- 
 cious inllucnccs in a renewed heart and life. 
 
 I have thus laid down several particulars which 
 
 appeared to mc important, in order to illustrate that 
 diversity which is observable in the mctliods of the 
 divine operation on the heart ; and they will na- 
 turally lead us to these three reflections, with which 
 I shall conclude my present discourse. — Let us not 
 make our own experiences a standard for others ; — 
 »ior the experiences of others a standard for our- 
 selves ; — nor let us be unwilling, in a prudent man- 
 ner, to communicate our spiritual experiences to 
 each other. 
 
 [1.] Let us not make our own experiences a 
 standard for others. 
 
 Let us remember that there is, as we have heard, 
 a diversity of operations ; and that many a person 
 may be a dear child of God, who was not born just 
 witii those circumstances which attended our own 
 regeneration. Others may not so particularly have 
 discerned the time, the occasion, the progress of the 
 ciiange ; they may not have felt all that we felt, 
 either in a way of extraordinary terror or extra- 
 ordinary comfort; and yet, perhaps, may equal, or 
 even exceed, us in that holy temper, to which it was 
 the great intention of our heavenly Father, by one 
 method or another, to bring all his children. Nay, 
 I will add, tliat Christians of a very amiable and 
 honourable character may express themselves but 
 in a dark, and something of an improper, manner, 
 concerning the doctrine of regeneration ; and may, 
 in conscience, scruple the use of some phrases 
 relating to it, which we judge to be exceeding suit- 
 able ; and yet, that very scruple which displeases 
 us may proceed from a reverence for God and 
 truth, and from such a tenderness of heart as is the 
 effect of his renewing grace. We should therefore 
 be very cautious how we judge each other, and take 
 upon us to reject those whom perhaps God has 
 received. 
 
 I remember good Dr. Owen, whose candour was, 
 in many respects, very remarkable, carries this so 
 far, as somewhere to say, " that some may, per- 
 haps, have experienced the saving influences of the 
 Holy Spirit on tiieir Jiearts, who do not in words 
 acknowledge the necessity, or even the reality, of 
 those influences." Judging men's hearts, and 
 judging their states, is a work for which we are so 
 ill <|ualiried, that we have reason to be exceeding' 
 thankful it is not assigned to us. And when we 
 are entering into such an examination of their cha- 
 racter as our duty may in some particular circum- 
 stances seem to require, we should be very solicitous 
 that we do not lay down arbitrary and precarious 
 rules. It seems, indeed, that so far as we can 
 learn it, we may more safely judge by their present 
 temper and conduct, than by the history of any 
 thing which has formerly passed in their minds. 
 
 And let me add it as a necessary caution here, 
 that they w ho never felt any of the extraordinary 
 emotions of the mind, which have been described 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 769 
 
 under some former heads, but have been brought to 
 religion by less observable methods, perhaps by 
 calm rational views of it, (of whom I believe there 
 are great numbers,) should be very cautious that 
 they do not rashly censure such things as I have 
 now been representing, as if they w ere mere enthu- 
 siasm. I cannot but think this a criminal limiting 
 the Holy One of Israel, and fear it will be found a 
 boldness highly displeasing to him, and very inju- 
 rious to the souls of those who allow themselves in 
 it, and of others too, if they be such as are employed 
 in the ministerial work : not now to insist on what, 
 in comparison of this, is but a small matter, the 
 apparent rudeness and petulancy of contradicting 
 facts so well attested as many of tliis kind have 
 been, and running counter to the solid effects which 
 such impressions have produced. The rashness 
 which prevails under different forms among men of 
 the most opposite sentiments is too obvious ; but if 
 we would give ourselves leave calmly to weigh and 
 consider matters, our spirits would be rendered on 
 all sides more moderate, and many harsh and hasty 
 censures would be suspended, which at present 
 prove very little more than the ignorance, pride, 
 and folly of those that pass them. 
 
 [2.] Let us not make the experiences of others a 
 standard for ourselves. 
 
 This is frequently the case, and especially with 
 those who are naturally of a humble and tender 
 temper ; for whose peace and comfort therefore one 
 cannot but be peculiarly solicitous. Having heard 
 of some extraordinary experiences of others, they 
 arc ready to imagine, because they can trace no- 
 thing correspondent to these in their ow n minds, 
 that they are utter strangers to real regeneration, 
 and have nothing more than such religious notions 
 and forms, as natural men may easily learn of each 
 other. 
 
 But what I have now been saying of the variety 
 of the divine operations on the heart, afl'ords a solid 
 answer to such scruples, when they arise in a pious 
 mind. Redect, on this occasion, how it is in the 
 works of nature : there we know that God w orks 
 in all, so that he is the life and existence of the 
 whole creation ; and yet, as an excellent writer ex- 
 presses it, " He alone seems not to work :" his 
 agency is so invisible and secret, that, did not rea- 
 son and Scripture join to teach it, one might live a 
 great many years in the world w ithout know ing any 
 thing more, than that such and such effects are pro- 
 duced by correspondent second causes : though in 
 strict propriety of speech they are no causes at all, 
 but owe all their ellicacy to the divine presence and 
 operation. Sense tells us that the sun enlightens 
 the earth, and warms it; that the rain waters it, 
 the seeds produce vegetables, and the animals con- 
 tinue their proper race: but that God is the Father 
 of lights ; that he has prepared the light and the 
 
 sun ; that he visits the earth, and causes rain to dc 
 scend into the furrows thereof, so as to make the 
 grass to grow for cattle, and corn and herb for the 
 service of man ; that he sends forth his Spirit, and 
 the animal race is created, and the face of the earth 
 renewed ; this, I say, is what multitudes of the 
 human race are not aware of; because in all these 
 things he acts in a gentle, stated, and regular man- 
 ner, and employs inferior agents as the instruments 
 of his providence. And just thus gentle, silent, and 
 regular, are the influences of his Spirit upon men's 
 souls; and it is often impossible exactlj' to distin- 
 guish them from the teachings of parents and minis- 
 ters, and from those reflections which seem to spring 
 from our ow n minds, though it is he that gives us 
 counsel, while our reins instruct us in our secret 
 musings, and that teaches us to prolit by the lessons 
 which others give us. 
 
 Be not therefore surprised, and be not dejected, 
 though you cannot assign the place, the time, the 
 manner, in which your conversion began ; and 
 though you are strangers to the terrors, the sorrows, 
 or the transports of joy, which you have heard one 
 and another express. The w ind blow eth where it list- 
 eth, and the Spirit dispenses his influences where 
 and when, and in what measure and degree, he 
 pleases : but while the way and manner of his ope- 
 ration may be secret and unknown, the efl'ects of it 
 are sensible and evident ; and as w ith regard to the 
 wind, thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not 
 tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth, so is 
 every one that is born of the Spirit. You may not 
 certainly know when to fix the precise time of your 
 con\ ersion, or how to trace the particular steps by 
 which it has been brought to pass ; for as thou 
 knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how 
 the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with 
 child ; even so thou knowest not the works of God 
 who maketh all. But though you cannot trace the 
 process of the operation, the efl'ects of it arc such 
 as you may feel w ithin you, and by its fruits it will 
 be known. It is indeed desirable to be able to give 
 an account of the beginning and the progress of the 
 work of God upon your souls, as sonic that are re- 
 generate can do ; but this is not necessary to evi- 
 dence the truth of grace. Happy is he who in this 
 case can say, as the blind man in the gospel. One 
 tiling I know, tiiat w hereas I was blind, now I see. 
 For as you know that there is fire, w hen you see the 
 flame, though you know not how or when it began ; 
 so also it may be discerned, that you have really 
 undergone a saving change, though you know not 
 how or when it was wrought in your hearts. If you 
 answer the characters I laid down in the preceding 
 Discourses, as essential to the truly regenerate, 
 (which are all comprehended in repentance and 
 faith, producing an unfeigned love and uniform 
 obedience,) you may trace the cause from the effect 
 
7C0 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 ■xvitli far greater cerlaiiily than you could liavo 
 traced sucli an eflect.as what would infallibly follow 
 from any cause which you could have perceived in 
 your minds previous to it. There may be great 
 awakenings, violent terrors, and ecstatic joys, where 
 there is no saving work of God on the soul : but 
 where the divine image is produced, and the soul is 
 actually renewed, we are sure (as was before ob- 
 served) that grace has been working, though we 
 know not when, or where, or how. — And therefore 
 on the w hole, guarding- against both these extremes, 
 and to cure them both, 
 
 [3.] Let Christians, in a prudent and humble 
 manner, be ready to communicate their religious 
 experiences to each other. 
 
 God undoubtedly intended that the variety of his 
 operations should be observed and owned in the 
 world of grace, as well as in that of nature ; and as 
 these things pass in the secret recesses of men's 
 hearts, how should they be known, unless they will 
 themselves communicate and declare tliem ? And 
 let me caution you against that strange averseness to 
 all freedoms of tliis kind, wliich, especially in per- 
 sons of a reserved temper, is so ready to prevail. 
 Let not any think it beneath them to do it. You 
 well know that David, who was not only a man of 
 an admirable genius, but a mighty prince too, was 
 far from thinking it so ; on the contrary, deeply 
 impressed with the divine condescension in all 
 the gracious visits he had received fi'om him, he 
 calls, as it were, tlie whole pious world around him, 
 that they might be edilied and comforted by the re- 
 lation : " Come," says he, " and hear, all ye that 
 fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for 
 my soul." He proclaimed it, not with his voice 
 and harp alone, but with his immortal pen : and 
 many other noble and excellent persons concurred 
 with him ; and the invaluable treasure of their ex- 
 periences, in as great a variety of circumstances as 
 we can well imagine, is transmitted to us in the 
 book of Psalms. Can any just reason then be as- 
 signed, why they who live under a nobler dispen- 
 sation, and a more abundant communication of the 
 Spirit, should be entirely silent on this subject? 
 
 There may, indeed, be an over-forwardness, which 
 is the apparent efl'cct of pride and self-conceit, and 
 which, with thinking people, may bring even the 
 sincerity of the speaker into question, or put his 
 indiscretion beyond all possibility of being ques- 
 tipned. But it would be very unreasonable to 
 argue, that because a thing may be done ill, it can- 
 not possibly be done well. 
 
 VVliy may not intimate friends open their hearts 
 to each other on such delightful topics ? Why may 
 not they, who have met with any thing peculiar of 
 this kind, communicate it to their minister f And 
 though I must in conscience declare against making 
 it absolately and universally a term of communion. 
 
 yet I am well assured, that, in some instances, a 
 prudent and serious communication of these things 
 to a Christian society, when a person is to be ad- 
 mitted into fellowship with it, has often answered 
 very valuable ends. By this means God has the 
 honour of his own work ; and others have the 
 pleasure of .sympathizing with the relater, both in 
 his sorrows and his joys: they derive from hence 
 too, additional satisfaction as to his fitness for an 
 approach to the Lord's table ; they learn with 
 pleasure the divine blessing which attends the ad- 
 ministration of ordinances among them; and make 
 observations and remarks w hich may assist them in 
 offering their addresses to God, and in giving pro- 
 per advices to others wlio are in circumstances like 
 those related. To all wliich we may add, that the 
 ministers of Christ do, in particular, learn what 
 may be a means of forming them to a more experi- 
 mental manner of preaching, as well as in many 
 instances discover those, before unknown, tokens 
 of success which may strengthen their hands in the 
 work of their great Master. 
 
 It is by frequent conversations of this kind, tliat 
 I have learnt many of the particulars on which I 
 have grounded the preceding discourse. I hope 
 therefore you will excuse me, if, on so natural an 
 occasion, I have borne my public testimony to what 
 has been so edifying to me, both as a minister and 
 a Christian. And the tender regard which I have 
 for young persons training up for the work of the 
 ministry, and my ardent desire that they may learn 
 the language of Sion, and have " those peculiar ad- 
 vantages which nothing but an acquaintance with 
 cases, and an observation on facts, can give," has 
 been a further inducement to me to add this re- 
 flection, with which I conclude my discourse ; 
 humbly hoping that what you have heard upon this 
 occasion will, by the divine blessing, furnish out 
 agreeable matter for such conversation as I have 
 now recommended, to the glory of God, and to the 
 advancement of religion among you. Amen. 
 
 SERMON XXX. 
 
 DIRECTIONS TO AWAKENED SINNERS. 
 Acts ix. 6. 
 
 And he, iremhJing and astonished, said. Lord, what 
 u ilt thou have me to do t 
 
 TiiusK are the words of Saul, who also is called 
 Paul, when he was stricken to the ground as he was 
 going to Damascus : and any one who had looked 
 upon him ia his present circumstances, and known 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 7G1 
 
 nothing more of him than that view, in comparison 
 ^\ith his past life, could have given, would have 
 imagined him one of the most miserable creatures 
 that ever lived upon earth, and would have ex- 
 pected that he should very soon have been num- 
 bered amongst the most miserable of those in hell. 
 He was engaged in a course of such savage cruelty, 
 as can, upon no principle of common morality, be 
 vindicated, even though tlie Christians had been as 
 much mistaken, as he rashly and foolishly concluded 
 they were. After having dragged many of them into 
 prison, and given his voice against some that were 
 put to death, he persecuted others into strange 
 cities ; and had now obtained a commission from 
 the .Sanhedrim at Jerusalem to carry this holy, or 
 rather this impious, war into Damascus, and to bring 
 all the proselytes to the religion of the blessed 
 Jesus bound from thence to Jerusalem ; probably 
 that they might be there animadverted upon with 
 greater severity than could safely have been at- 
 tempted by the Jews in so distant a city, under a 
 foreign governor. 
 
 But behold, as he was in the way, Jesus inter- 
 poses, clothed with a lustre exceeding that of the 
 son at noon. He strikes him down from the beast 
 on which he rode, and lays him prostrate on the 
 ground, calling to him with a voice far more dread- 
 ful than that of thunder, Saul, Saul, why persecutest 
 thou me ? 
 
 Any one would have imagined, from the circum- 
 stances in which he now beheld Saul, that divine 
 vengeance had already begun to seize him, and that 
 full execution would quickly have been done. But 
 God's ways are not as our ways, nor are his 
 thoughts as our thoughts. Christ laid him almost 
 as low as hell, that he might raise him as high as 
 I the third heaven ; of which he afterwards gave him a 
 view in vision, to anticipate his reception into it. 
 This day of his terror and astonishment was, in a 
 nobler sense than any other, the day of his birth ; 
 for he is brought to bow himself at tlie foot of an 
 injured Saviour, to offer him, as it were, a blank 
 ■upon which to write his own terms of peace : and as 
 I soon as he heard that this glorious person was Jesus, 
 I whom, in his members, he had so long persecuted, 
 he makes his submission in these lively compre- 
 hensive words, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to 
 do ?" — This was not a time for a long speech ; but 
 he that discerns all the secret recesses of the Spirit, 
 knew these few words were full of a most important 
 meaning, and expressed not only a grief of heart, 
 for all that he had before been doing against Christ 
 and his kingdom, but the sincerest resolution for 
 the future to employ himself in his service, waiting 
 only the intimations of his wise and gracious will, 
 as to the most proper and acceptable manner of 
 beginning the attempt. 
 There is, methinks, a poignant kind of eloquence 
 
 in this short expression, far beyond what any para- 
 phrase upon it can give: and our compassionate 
 Lord accepted this surrender. All his former re- 
 bellions were no more remembered against him ; 
 and before he rose from the ground, to which he 
 fell on so terrible an occasion, Christ gave him an 
 intimation, not only that his forfeited life should 
 be spared, so that he should get safe into the city to 
 which he was bound, but that he should there be 
 instructed in that service which Jesus, whom he 
 had persecuted, would now condescend to receive 
 at his hands. 
 
 I represent the case thus largely, because I hope 
 it is a case which, in some measure, suits the expe- 
 rience of some that hear me this evening. Paul 
 tells us, it was for this reason, among others, that 
 he himself obtained mercy, though he was the chief 
 of sinners, that in him, as the chief, Jesus Christ 
 might show forth all long-sufTering, for a pattern to 
 them who should afterwards believe. 
 
 Is there then, in this assembly, any awakened 
 and convinced sinner ; any one that, apprized of 
 his folly, and sensible of his misery, is desirous to 
 fall at the foot of Christ, and say with Saul, " Lord, 
 wliat wilt thou have me to do .' That which I sec 
 not, teach thou me ; and wherein I have done ini- 
 quity, I will do so no more !"— To such would I 
 now especially address : and while I put the ques- 
 tion, Is there any such among us ? I would fain 
 persuade myself, there are several : for I humbly 
 hope, that all the labours that have been bestowed 
 in the preceding Discourses are not in vain, nor 
 all the prayers that have been ofl'ered for their suc- 
 cess in vain ; prayers which, I doubt not, have been 
 carried by ma'iy of you into your families and your 
 closets, as well as jointly presented to God in this 
 public assembly. Trusting therefore that it is thus 
 with some, and praying that it may be a more fre- 
 quent case, I proceed. 
 
 Sixthly, To give some directions to such who arc 
 awakened by divine grace to a sense of their misery 
 in an unregenerate state, and are brought to desire 
 recovery from it. 
 
 To such I propose to give directions: and to what 
 purpose would it be to undertake to offer them to 
 any others? Who would pretend to teach those who 
 are unconcerned about their salvation, what methods 
 they are to take in order to their becoming truly re- 
 generate ? This, methinks, would be like giving 
 directions how those might learn to write who do 
 not desire it, and will not take a pen info their 
 hands. All I could say to such, while they (continue 
 in this character, would vanish into empty air : it 
 would not, probably, be so much as observed and 
 remembered. I speak therefore to awakened souls, 
 and to such it is pleasant to address on this head. 
 Ananias undoubtedly undertook tiiis message to 
 Saul with cheerfulness, to tell him what Christ 
 
76-2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Mould liave him to Ho: and I would with ph\i.siirc 
 and cheerfuliu'ss engage in the like work ; humbly 
 hoping, that some will hear w ith observation and 
 attention, will hear for themselves, and so hear for 
 their good. And to this i)urpose let me advise you, 
 — to attend to the impressions that have been made 
 upon you « itli great seriousness, — to break oil' every 
 tiling that is contrary to them, — to seek for further 
 knowledge in religious matters,— to pour out your 
 souls before God in earnest prayer, — to communi- 
 cate the state of your case to some experienced 
 Christian, — to acquaint yourselves with such as are 
 much in your own circumstances, — to lly imme- 
 diately to Christ, as ready to receive all that come 
 to him, — to dedicate yourselves to him, and to his 
 service, in the most solemn manner, — to arm your- 
 selves to encounter « ith the greatest dilHcultics in 
 your Christian course,— and finally, to take every 
 step in this attempt with a deep sense of your own 
 weakness, and a humble dependence upon divine 
 grace to be communicated to you as the matter re- 
 quires. These are the several directions I would 
 offer to you : and may they be impressed in such a 
 manner on your souls, that none of you may lose the 
 things that have been wrought, but by the effectual 
 working of the mighty power of God, such as he 
 graciously has been pleased to bring to the birth, 
 may be brought forth, and such as are awakened 
 may be savingly renewed ! 
 
 1. I would advise you to " attend to the impres- 
 sions made upon you with great seriousness." 
 
 They may perhaps take you a little oil' the world 
 and its concernments ; and some will blame you for 
 suffering such an interruption : but regard not that 
 censure. The time will come, if you pursue these 
 things aright, when renewed diligence, prudence, 
 and the divine blessing, will amply make amends 
 for anj' present hinderance which these impressions 
 may occasion. And if it should be otherwi.se, were 
 there not a cause ? If a man seized with a threat- 
 ening distemper should choose, for a little while, to 
 lay aside his usual business, that he might attend 
 to the care of his health, before the symptoms grew 
 incurable, would any body blame him for this ? On 
 the contrary, would it not be looked upon as acting 
 a very wise, prudent, and necessary part? .Much 
 more may it be said here — It is not a light thing for 
 you, because it is your life : and if the life is more 
 than meat, and the body than raiment, then surely 
 the soul is more to be regarded than either. And 
 therefore, what you do in your worldly affairs, do 
 moderately ; and do not grudge that retirement 
 which is so necessary in such a tender circumstance 
 as this. — I may apply to you, on this occasion, those 
 words of Solomon ; Through desire a man having 
 separated himself, seekcth and intermeddleth with 
 all wisdom. If you desire to attain divine wisdom, 
 you must separate yourself from all other things to 
 
 pursue it. — And it is the more necessary to attend 
 to this now, because the tempter may probably con- 
 trive to lay some more than ordinary avocation in 
 your way, at a time when the interest of his king- 
 dom retiuires you should be diverted from prose- 
 cuting those views which are presenting themselves 
 to you, and by which you may so probably l.e 
 rescued out of his hands, and put for ever out of 
 his power. 
 
 2. Let me advise you to " break off every thing 
 which is contrary to such impressions as these." 
 
 Sin will immediately appear to have been your 
 disease and your ruin : and therefore, if ever you 
 hope for recovery, you must resolutely break with 
 that ; not merely with this or that particular evil, 
 but with every sin ; and that not only for a little 
 while, but entirely and for ever. A mortal irrecon- 
 cilable war must be declared against it. Every 
 fleshly lust must be denied, every immoral practice, 
 for which your heart may at any time smite you, 
 must be reformed ; and if ever you expect to reap 
 mercy and life, you must, as the prophet expresses 
 it, break up your fallow ground, and not sow among 
 thorns. For righteousness has no fellowship with 
 unrighteousness, and light no communion wi(h 
 darkness. And you may be assured, that as all sin 
 grieves the Spirit of God, and strengthens the heavy 
 fetters which lie upon the soul; so those sins which 
 are committed after these awakenings and convic- 
 tions, have a peculiar guilt attending them, and do 
 greater despite to the Spirit of grace, in proportion 
 to the degree in which his motions on the soul have 
 been vigorous and warm. 
 
 3. " Seek further knowledge," especially from 
 the word and ordinances of God. 
 
 The influences of divine grace are not to be con- 
 sidered as a blind impulse ; but God's Spirit workfi 
 on the spirit of man, as one rational being on an- 
 other. The apostle, therefore, puts the question 
 with great reason, How shall they believe in him, 
 of whom they have not heard ? And as some know- 
 ledge is the foundation on which the Spirit of God 
 orditiarily operates in men's hearts : so in propor- 
 tion to the degree in which you attain further light 
 into the scheme of the gospel, and of salvation by 
 Christ, it may be expected you will be more im- 
 pressed by it. The mention of this is so much the 
 more necessary, as mistaken notions of religion 
 often expose people, on the one hand, to great per- 
 plexities, and on the other, betray them into a false 
 peace, which one way or another will be bitterness 
 in the end. — Come therefore to the house of God, 
 and attend spiritual preaching. The question is 
 not about forms, but things. Be not, therefore, 
 over-scrupulous about what is merely circumstan- 
 tial in religion, on the one hand or the other; but 
 where you find most spiritual light and improve- 
 ment, there choose generally to attend ; not confin- 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 763 
 
 log religion to any particular party, nor judging 
 those who differ from you in their sentiment or 
 practice ; but calmly and humbly seeking your own 
 edification, leaving others to seek theirs where they 
 are persuaded, in the sight of God, they may most 
 probably find it. — Above all, remember, in this 
 circumstance, to make the word of God the man of 
 your counsel, and to judge of what you read and 
 hear by the tenor of that, as the oracle of eternal 
 truth ; always attending the reading of it with 
 earnest prayer to God for the illumination of his 
 Spirit, as I shall afterwards more particularly 
 direct. — No other books are to be set up in opposi- 
 tion to this, or in comparison with it ; yet let it be 
 your care, in subordination to Scripture, to study 
 the writings of those faithful servants of God in 
 latter ages, who themselves manifest a sense of 
 practical religion. Especially endeavour to find 
 out and peruse those writings which treat of con- 
 version and regeneration, and which contain advice 
 suited to your case. Blessed be God, our language 
 abounds with such ; and every truly Christian 
 minister will be glad to direct you to them, and so 
 far as he has a convenient opportunity, to furnish 
 you with them. 
 
 4. " Pour out your soul before God in earnest 
 prayer." 
 
 You cannot be unacquainted with the many 
 promises God has made in Scripture, for the en- 
 ' couragement of those who desire to pray to him in 
 ' the sincerity of their hearts. You know into how 
 little a compass Christ has crowded together three 
 equivalent promises ; — Ask, and it shall be given 
 you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall 
 be opened unto you : and you cannot but remember 
 the three-fold encouragement, from the success of 
 j those who have recourse to this expedient, which 
 I he has added in the most express and general 
 1 terms; — For every one that asketh, receivelh ; and 
 he that sccketh, findeth ; and to him that knocketh, 
 it shall be opened. Go, therefore, in a cheerful 
 dependence upon this promise ; go, and try tlic 
 truth of it. Whither should a creature in such 
 I circumstances go, but to that God, who has the 
 hearts of all in his hand as the rivers of water, and 
 turns them whithersoever he w ill ? And who should 
 go to him, rather than you ? And in what circum- 
 stances should a distressed creature rather tliink of 
 looking and crying to him, than in these ; where it 
 sees itself surrounded with so much danger, and 
 I yet feels an inward earnest desire, not only of 
 I deliverance, but of holiness too ?— Go, therefore, 
 and cast yourself at the feet of God this very 
 j evening ; do it as soon as you return to your habi- 
 < tations : and if you cannot put your thoughts and 
 desires info words, at least sigh and groan before 
 the Lord. Mourn, if you cannot pray ; and mourn 
 that you cannot ; or rather be assured, that un- 
 
 utterable groanings have sometimes the greatest 
 cfiicacy, and prove the most prevailing eloquence. 
 
 It will be no wonder at all, if, in these circum- 
 stances, Satan should endeavour to terrify you. It 
 is bis common practice. So many souls have van- 
 quished him, upon their knees, that he dreads and 
 hates the posture ; but draw an argument from that 
 very opposition to make you so much the more 
 eager and importunate : when your heart is over- 
 whelmed within you, fly unto the Rock that is higher 
 than you. 
 
 I will add, be not discouraged, though help be 
 not immediately imparled. Though you may seem 
 to be cast out of God's sight, yet look again towards 
 his holy temple : though you seem to cry from the 
 deeps, and almost from the belly of hell, the bowels 
 of a heavenly Father will yearn over you as return- 
 ing prodigals ; and I doubt not you will meet with 
 the reception that Ephraim found, when God saw 
 him bemoaning and humbling himself, because he 
 had been as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke; 
 when he cried. Turn thou me, and I siiall be turned ; 
 for thou art tlie Lord my God : his heavenly Father 
 answers him in these most all'ectionate words ; attend 
 to them, O thou returning sinner, for thy comfort in 
 this hour of distress ! Is Ephraim my dear son ! is 
 he a pleasant cliild ? for since I spake against him, 
 I do earnestly remember him still ; therefore my 
 bow els are troubled for him, and I w ill surely have 
 mercy upon him, saith the Lord. 
 
 C). I would advise you further, that you " imme- 
 diately communicate the state of your case to some 
 experienced Chiistian." 
 
 I know there is a backwardness in persons of 
 your circumstances to do it ; and it has been sur- 
 prising to me, to learn from the converse of some, 
 wiio, in this respect, have afterwards grown wiser, 
 how long they have been pining away in their sor- 
 rows before they could be persuaded to consult 
 their ministers or Christian friends. It is a strata- 
 gem of Satan, against which I would by all means 
 caution you. And one would think your own reason 
 should suggest some very obvious advantages attend- 
 ing the method I propose, of opening your case 
 freely to those whom you think to be more expe- 
 rienced in these things. The impression may bo 
 revived upon your own souls, even by the account 
 you give them ; and their advice may be exceeding 
 useful to you, to guard you against the wiles of the 
 enemy wiiich they have known, though hitherto you 
 arc strangers to them ; and to guide you into such 
 methods as, by the divine blessing, may further 
 promote that good work which seems, in any mea- 
 sure, to have been begun within you. You may also 
 depend upon it, that it will engage their prayers for 
 you, which, in this case, may have great prevalcncy. 
 And it will also naturally lead them to inspect your 
 conduct ; and if they see you afterwards in danger 
 
7G4 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 of beings drawn aside, tlioj' may remind you of the 
 liopes once entertained, and tlic impressions onec 
 made upon your mind. — In this respect you may 
 hope, that by walking with wise men you will be 
 yet wiser; and will soon find how happy an ex- 
 clianRe you make, when you give up your vain, and 
 perhaps wicked, companions, that you may become 
 the companion of them tliat fear (Jod, and tliat keep 
 his precepts ; and may liavc your delight in them, 
 who, in the judgment of (Jod, are the excellent of 
 the earth, however they may be despised and de- 
 rided by men. 
 
 6. I would also advise that you " endeavour to 
 search out those, if there be any such about or 
 near you, who are much in your own circum- 
 stances." 
 
 Observe, especially among young people, whether 
 there are any tiiat seem of late to have grown more 
 serious than ordinary; and particularly more con- 
 stant in attending the ordinances of God, and more 
 cautious in venturing on occasions and tempta- 
 tions to sin : and if you can discover such, endea- 
 vour to form an acquaintance with them. Try, by 
 proper hints, how far their circumslances resemble 
 yours ; and as you find encouragement, enter into a 
 stricter friendship with them, founded on religion, 
 and intended to promote it in each other's hearts. 
 Associate yourselves in little bands for Christian 
 converse and prayer ; and by this means you will 
 quicken and strengthen the hearts of each other. 
 For, on the one hand, what they tell you of their 
 own experience, will much confirm you in a per- 
 suasion that what you find in yourselves is not a 
 mere fancy, but is really a divine work begun on 
 your hearts, and will give you encouragement to 
 pursue it as such ; for, as face answers to face in 
 water, so does the heart of man to man : and, on 
 the other hand, the observation of your pious zeal 
 will quicken others, and may occasion the revival 
 of religion in the hearts of elder Christians ; as, I 
 bless God, I have found some things of this kind 
 liave done, and hope (and through the divine bless- 
 ing expect) to find it more and more. Therefore, 
 exhort one another daily, while it is called to-day, 
 lest any of you should be hardened through the 
 deceitfulness of sin. Strengthen yc the weak 
 hands, and confirm the feeble knees ; and be as- 
 sured that, while you are endeavouring to help 
 others, you will find in yourselves the first-fruits of 
 this liappy attempt; and while you water others, 
 you will be watered also yourselves. 
 
 7. It is an advice of the highest importance, that, 
 " whoever you are, you should immediately fiy to 
 Christ, and repose the confidence of your souls upon 
 him." 
 
 Observe that I urge you, whoever you are, to lly 
 immediately to Christ ; and this I do to guard 
 against a strange notion which some are ready to 
 
 entertain, as if we were to bring soinelhing of our 
 own righteousness and obedience to him, to render 
 us w orthy of being accepted by him. But this is a 
 grand mistake. The blessings of the gospel arc not 
 to be considered as matter of bargain and sale : no, 
 if we come to buy wine and milk, it must be with- 
 out money and without price ; and whoever w ill 
 take of tlie water of life, must do it freely. If he 
 pretend to oficr an equivalent, he forfeits his share 
 in the invitation, and must be made to know, that 
 the price he olfers is a great afi'ront to the value of 
 the blessings for which he would thus barter. — Let 
 this then be your language, " Lord, I have undone 
 myself, and in me is no help : I see nothing in my- 
 self w liicli makes me worthy of thy regard ; but this 
 I know, that where sin has abounded, grace does 
 much more abound, and reigns through righteous- 
 ness unto eternal life by .Jesus Christ; through 
 whom thou hast assured me in thy word that eternal 
 life is the gift of God. As such let me receive it; 
 and by how much the more undeserving I have been, 
 by so much the more will I celebrate the riches of 
 thy grace in making me a vessel of mercy, and a 
 monument of love, throughout all eternity. — Blessed 
 Jesus, thou hast said, tliat him who comes unto thee 
 thou wilt in nowise cast out : behold, I come and 
 cast myself at thy feet ; receive me, and put me 
 among the children, tliough I deserve not the very 
 crumbs that fall from thy table." 
 
 You will not I hope imagine, that when I give 
 s u h advice as this, I mean to insinuate that a per- 
 son, purposing to continue in his sins, may never- 
 theless come and receive the blessings of the 
 gospel ; for that would be no other than in the 
 grossest manner to pervert and contradict the whole 
 tenor of it. But this I say, and repeat it, that when 
 once a sinner finds himself by divine grace disposed 
 to turn from his sins to God, and made willing to 
 accept the mercy tendered in the gospel, of which 
 a deliverance from sin and a renovation of nature 
 are a great, important, and essential, part ; he may 
 with cheerfulness apply himself to the great Re- 
 deemer, as one of those whom he came on purpose 
 to deliver ; and in proportion to the degree in which 
 he can discern the sincerity of his sentiments, he 
 may open his heart to comfort, how great soever 
 his former unworthiness has been, and how lately 
 soever such impressions may have been made upon 
 his heart. 
 
 8. " Make the dedication of yourselves to Christ 
 and his service as solemn a thing as you can." 
 
 We read in the Acts of some that were baptized, 
 and publicly received into the church the very same 
 day in which they were converted: and though a 
 change of circumstances may at present render it 
 convenient to defer doing it for some time with the 
 solemnity of the ordinance of the Lord's supper, 
 which is peculiarly intended for that purpose ; be- 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 765 
 
 cause it is proper that the eflicacy of yourrepentance 
 and conversion should first of all be so far seen, as 
 in the judgment of charity to approve the sincerity 
 of it : yet I think, when you feel your hearts abso- 
 lutely determined for God, you should in a solemn 
 manner lay hold of his covenant, in secret at least, 
 as soon as possible ; and declare, as before him that 
 searcheth all hearts, the sincerity of that acceptance. 
 — Some have recommended the doinn; this in a 
 written engagement ; and there are several very 
 affecting forms of this kind in books on this subject, 
 which may very profitably be used. But I liope the 
 fulness of your heart will dictate something of this 
 kind, if such helps should be wanting, or if any- 
 peculiar considerations should prevent their being 
 used. — And surel)', if you feel the love of the 
 blessed Jesus glowing in your hearts as j'ou ought, 
 you will need no other engagement to yield your- 
 selves to him : that love will be instead of ten thou- 
 sand arguments ; and you will see a secret charm in 
 
 I the view of serving him, which will engage your 
 very soul to spring forward with vigour and eager- 
 ness to every proper instance of it. The dread of 
 future punishment has certainly its use to restrain 
 from the commission of sin, especially in an hour 
 of pressing temptation ; and the hope of that exceed- 
 ing and eternal weight of glory which the gospel 
 promises, will have a greater eflicacy upon a 
 generous mind: yet I will venture to say, that a 
 heart powerfully impressed with the love of Jesus, 
 will have a yet stronger influence than either of 
 these. Cordial friendship needs not to be hired to 
 perform its proper office. Love is a law to itself; 
 it adds a delightful relish to every attempt for the 
 service of its object ; and it is most evidently thus 
 in the present case. " Lord," will the Christian 
 say, " wilt thou do me the honour to accept any 
 feeble attempt for thy service which I can form? I 
 
 I thank thee for it, and bow my head before thee in 
 the most grateful acknowledgments, that thou fa- 
 vourest mc with an ability to discharge, in any 
 degree, the fulness of my grateful heart in present- 
 ing them: O that my wliole soul might daily rise 
 before thee as an acceptable sacrifice in the flame of 
 love ! O that I might always feel niy heart enlarged 
 to run the way of thy commandments ! Were the 
 degree of my future happiness from this moment 
 invariably fixed, I would still pursue this delightful 
 business; for there is no other in which my soul 
 could find a pleasure equal or comparable to it." 
 If you feel such thoughts as the.se rising in your 
 
 ' mind, breathe them out before the throne from day 
 
 I to day ; and when you have done it, recollect fre- 
 quently the vows of God that are upon you ; and 
 see, that having sworn, you perform it, and main- 
 fain in the whole of your lives a conduct agreeable 
 to such a profession as this. 
 
 9. " Gird up the loins of your mind, to encounter 
 
 with a great deal of difficulty in your Christian 
 course." 
 
 Many are the difficulties that you must expect; 
 great, and possibly for a while increasing, difficul- 
 ties. It is commonly said indeed, that those difli- 
 cultics which attend the entrance on a religious life, 
 are the greatest ; and in themselves considered, no 
 doubt but they are so : they arise from many quar- 
 ters, and unite all together in the same design of 
 keeping you from a believing application to Christ, 
 and a resolute closure with him. In this respect, 
 evil sometimes arises to a man in his own house : 
 and those whose near relation should rather engage 
 them to give the young convert the best assistance, 
 where his most important interests are concerned, 
 are, on the contrary, ready to lay a stumbling-block 
 in his way ; and perhaps act as if they had rather he 
 should have no religion at all, than change a few 
 circumstances in the outward profession of it. 
 Worldly interest too is perhaps to be sacrificed ; 
 and conscience cannot be preserved without giving 
 up the friendship of those whom at any other ex- 
 pense but conscience a man would gladly oblige. 
 And it is no wonder if Satan make his utmost 
 efl'orfs, and those very unwearied too, that he may 
 prevent the revolt of these subjects, or rather the 
 escape of his prisoners. The Christian is, there- 
 fore, called upon by the apostle, to arm himself as 
 for a combat, and that at all points ; to put on the 
 whole armour of God, that he may be able to with- 
 stand in the evil day ; and having done all, to stand. 
 
 Nor must you, my friends, though as soon as you 
 have put on your harness you gain some important 
 victory, boast as if you might securely put it off. 
 Your whole life must be a series of exercise. 
 Through much opposition, as well as much tribu- 
 lation, you must enter into the kingdom of God ; 
 and though your difficulties may generally be 
 greatest at first, yet your encouragements then may 
 perhaps be so peculiarly great, and your spirits 
 under their first religious impressions so w arm, that 
 other difficulties, in themselves snuillcr, may press 
 more scnsibl}' upon you. Endeavour therefore to 
 keep yourselves in a prepared posture: put on a 
 steady resolution ; and to support it, sit down and 
 count the cost, lest having begun to build, you 
 shamefully desist, and be not able to finish it; or 
 having put your hand to tiie plough, you should 
 look back, and become unfit for the kingdom of 
 God. And therefore, 
 
 10. " Let every step in this attempt be taken with 
 a deep sense of your own weakness, and a humi)Ie 
 dependence upon divine grace to be communicated 
 to you as the matter requires." 
 
 Recollect seriously what I was telling you in a 
 former Discourse, of the necessity of the divine 
 agency and interposition ; and remember, it de- 
 pends upon God, not only to begin the good work, 
 
706 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 but also to carry it on, and perform it until t-he day 
 of Jesus Christ. If we trust in our own hearts, 
 especially after this solemn admonition, this plain 
 instruction, added to such frequent experience, wc 
 arc fools indeed. Let us therefore trust in the 
 Lord, and not lean to our own understandinfj. And 
 do you, my friends, who Iiave but just listed your- 
 selves in this holy war, every one of you say, with 
 a humble, yet cheerful, heart, In the name of our 
 God will wc set up our banners. And if tlius you 
 wait on the Lord, you shall renew your strenp;th ; 
 and even the feeblest soul shall be enabled by 
 divine grace to mount up with winjjs as eagles, and 
 to press on from one degree of religious improve- 
 ment to another ; while the youths shall faint and 
 be weary, and the young men shall utterly full. 
 The apostle expresses, in the liveliest manner, his 
 dependence on the divine Redeemer to communi- 
 cate this grace in a proper degree, when he says, 
 " Let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that 
 we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time 
 of need ;" plainly implying, that it may be obtained 
 if we have but hearts to seek for it ; which, as on 
 the one hand, it efi'ectually takes off all idle excuses 
 for the neglect of our duty, pleaded from our own 
 acknowledged weakness anj' further than we are 
 supported by the divine power ; so on the other 
 hand, it animates the heart, that, sensible of its 
 various infirmities, desires nevertheless to go forth 
 to the work of God, and to consecrate all its facul- 
 ties to his service ; using them, such as they are, 
 for God, and humbly seeking from him the enlarge- 
 ment of them. 
 
 Go therefore, my friends, into the divine pre- 
 sence ; and, while under a sense of this, be not 
 discouraged, though mountains of opposition may 
 lie in your way. Those mountains shall be made 
 low, and spread themselves into a plain before you; 
 while you go forth under the inlluencesof the Spirit 
 of the Lord, who is able to make all grace abound 
 to his people. Of this Paul in our text was a most 
 celebrated instance, who not only received, as was 
 here promised, directions what he sliould do, but 
 had strength also given him to perform it; a strength 
 which was made perfect and illustrious in his weak- 
 ness : and when, in consequence of this, he had 
 attained to a very distinguishing improvement in 
 religion, and had been enabled to act up in the 
 most lionourabic manner, not only to the (Christian 
 character in general, but to that of a minister and 
 an apostle, he acknowledges, in all his abundant 
 labours, that it was not he, but the grace of God that 
 was with him. 
 
 If it be thus w ith you, my brethren, you will be 
 established and built up in your most holy faith. 
 The most agreeable hopes we form concerning you, 
 when we sec you under such serious impressions as 
 this discourse supposes, will be answered ; and they 
 
 who have spoken to you the word of God, on such 
 occasions as these, will liavc the pleasure to think 
 that they have not run in vain, nor laboured in vain. 
 
 And now, if these directions, which I have offered 
 to you with great plainness and freedom, but with 
 the sincerest desire of your edification and establish- 
 ment in religion, be seriously pursued, I shall have 
 the satisfaction of thinking, that, though I might find 
 you in the number of tiic unregenerate when I began 
 these Lectures, I shall carry you on along with 
 me through the only head that yet remains to be 
 handled ; and shall indeed address myself to you, 
 as those who were sometimes darkness, but are now 
 light in the Lord, when I proceed to address those 
 wlio have been renewed by divine grace, which I 
 promised as my last general, and with which shall 
 conclude my discourses on ti)is important subject. 
 
 SERMON XXXI. 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE UEGENEIIATE, FOUNDED ON TilE 
 PRECEDING DISCOURSES. 
 
 James i. 18. 
 
 Of his oun will he<jat he us with the word of truth, that 
 ire should he a kind of Jirst-fruits of his creatures. 
 
 I INTEND the words, which I have now been read- 
 ing, only as an introduction to that address to the 
 sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty, with 
 which I am now to conclude these Lectures ; and 
 therefore shall not enter into any critical discussion, 
 either of them, or of the context. I hope God has 
 made the series of these Discourses, in some mea- 
 sure, useful to those for whose service they were 
 immediately intended : but if they have not been 
 so to all, and if with relation to many I have la- 
 boured in vain from sabbath to sabbath, I cannot 
 be surprised at it. What am I better than my 
 fathers ? It lias, in every age, been their com- 
 plaint, that they have stretched out their hands all 
 the day to a disobedient and gainsaying people; 
 that the bellows have been burnt, and the lead con- 
 sumed of the fire, but the dross has not been taken 
 away : such reprobate silver have multitudes been 
 found. Yea, the Lord Jesus Christ himself, who 
 spake with such unequalled eloquence, with such 
 divine energy, yet met with multitudes, who were 
 like the deaf adder, that would not hearken to the 
 voice of the wisest charmer: and surely the disci- 
 ple is not above his master, nor the servant above 
 his lord. 
 
 When indeed we consider the infinite importance 
 of the me.ssago we address to you. O ye perishing 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 7C7 
 
 sinners ! wc hardly know how to give over, or to take 
 a denial. We feel a strong impulse on our hearts 
 to give line upon line, and precept upon precept ; 
 as a physician that loves his patient, when he sees 
 the distemper prevailing, and has run through the 
 whole range of medicines, is ready, while life yet 
 remains, not entirely to give over, but to repeat 
 again what he had prescribed unsuccessfully be- 
 fore. And if God spare our lives, no doubt many 
 of those things which I have before been urging, 
 must, in substance, be repeated. But at present I 
 will desist : I know not what more or further to 
 say ; and if you are utterly unimpressed with what I 
 have already laid before you, especially with re- 
 gard to the character of the unregenerate, — the 
 nature of regeneration, — the absolute necessity of 
 it, — and of the divine agency in producing it ; — T 
 know not what further to urge, and must leave you 
 either to the grace or the judgment of God. The 
 time will certainly come, when you will see and 
 Own the importance of these things. The word of 
 God will, in one sense or another, take hold of 
 every soul that hears it, and perhaps on some of you 
 in a very terrible manner, and in a very little time. 
 But if it do, I may say with the apostle Paul, when, 
 in token of the solemnity with which he spoke, he 
 shook his raiment, and took leave of his obstinate 
 hearers, I am clean from your blood ; and since you 
 refuse to be instructed, I turn to those who will 
 regard what I say. And thus, according to the 
 method I at first proposed, I proceed, 
 
 Seventhly, To conclude these discourses with an 
 address to those who, by divine grace, are experi- 
 mentally acquainted with this great work of rege- 
 neration ; to show them how they ought to be affected 
 with the consideration of the truths that have been 
 offered, and what improvement they should make of 
 such a course of sermons as you have lately been 
 attending. 
 
 Out of a general regard to the glory of God, and 
 the good of souls, you have attended on what has 
 hitherto been spoken to persons of a very different 
 character ; and I hope not altogether without some 
 sensible refreshment and advantage : but now hear 
 more immediately for yourselves, and suffer a word 
 of exhortation in such particulars as these,. — Be 
 thankful to God for what you have experienced ; — 
 improve it as an engagement to behave in a suit- 
 able manner, — study to promote the work of God 
 upon the hearts of others ; — and long for that 
 blessed world where the change that is now begun, 
 and is gradually advancing, in your souls, shall be 
 Universal and complete. — Your own wisdom and 
 piety have, no doubt, prevented me in each of 
 these particulars ; but you will be glad to enter 
 more fully into the redection than you could do, 
 while it was intermingling itself with other thoughts. 
 
 [!.] "Return the most affectionate acknowledg- 
 
 ments of praise to the God of all mercy, for the 
 experience you have had of a regenerating change." 
 
 I would now address this exhortation and charge 
 to every one of you, who, through divine grace, 
 hope you can say, that you are born again ; to all 
 who can say, that God has, of his own will, begot- 
 ten you with the word of truth, that you may be a 
 kind of first-fruits of his creatures. To you I would 
 say, " Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and 
 give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness and 
 goodness." " Give thanks to tiie Father, who has 
 made you meet to be partakers of the inheritance 
 of the saints in light." Join your voices and your 
 hearts in the most cheerful hymns of praise, what- 
 ever your different circumstances are. Let the 
 young and the old, the rich and the poor, the 
 honourable and the mean, rejoice together ; if any 
 may be called poor, who are thus enriched ; if any 
 may be accounted mean, who are thus honoured. 
 Bless the Lord at all times, let his praise be con- 
 tinually in your mouths ; and endeavour to carry 
 along with you, through the darkest road you 
 travel, and the bitterest sorrows you taste, clieer- 
 fulness in your hearts, and praise on your tongues ; 
 considering — how important the blessing is with 
 which the Lord has favoured you ; — how few there 
 are who partake of it ; — and in the midst of how 
 much opposition the divine grace has taken hold 
 of your souls, and wrought its wonders of love there. 
 
 1. Consider, my Christian friends, "how im- 
 portant this favour is which God has bestowed upon 
 you, in thus begetting you as a kind of first-fruits 
 of his creatures." 
 
 .Justly indeed may I say. Behold, what manner 
 of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we 
 should be regenerated by his grace, and so be 
 called, and that with propriety, the sons of God ! 
 Justly may I say to you, now you are assembled in 
 the courts of the Lord, in those emphatical words of 
 David, O come, let us worship, and bow down ; let 
 us kneel before the Lord our Maker : for it is he 
 tiiat has made us, and not we ourselves, with regard 
 to this second, as well as the first, creation; and we, in 
 consequence of it, arc in the noblest sense his people, 
 and the sheep of his pasture. Enter therefore, into 
 his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with 
 praise ; be thankful unto him, and bless his name. 
 
 My brethren, it is a favour in which the salvation 
 of your souls is concerned ; and can that be small .' 
 or ought it ever to be thought of but with the high- 
 est emotion and cnlargedness of heart ? The gracious 
 purposes of God towards his children are, to make 
 every one of them higher than the kings of the 
 earth, to give them more solid satisfaction than 
 crowns and kingdoms can afford, and at length to 
 raise them to a diadem of immortal glory. O what 
 reason have you, with the apostle, to say, Blessed be 
 the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, 
 
76S 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 accordiiiij to Iiis abundant mercy, lias begotten us 
 again to a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus 
 Christ from the dead, even to the hope of an inherit- 
 ance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadetli 
 not away, reserved in heaven for us who are kept 
 by the power of God through faith unto salvation ! 
 Survey this great privilege which God has already 
 given you, this high security, these glorious hopes. 
 Has he not brouglit the beginning of glory already 
 into your souls .' Has he not wrought you to a 
 (ilial temper, and taught you to cry, Abba, Father ? 
 Has he not, in sonic measure, formed and fashioned 
 your minds to a meetness to dwell with angels and 
 perfected spirits in heaven ? So that you can now 
 say, even with relation to that which you already 
 feel, that you are no more strangers and foreigners, 
 but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the 
 household of God. You are even now the sons of 
 God, and it doth not yet appear what you shall be ; 
 but there is enough appears, and enough known, at 
 present, of what you shall be, and of what you are, 
 to revive, to delight, to transport the heart. 
 
 And is not this too, O thou afllicted soul, who 
 art called to encounter with the most painful dilli- 
 culties, enough to be the means of thy support, and 
 to aflbrd thee matter for thy strong consolation ? 
 You that are tossed with tempests, and obliged to 
 struggle under various and long-continued bur- 
 thens, have you not here a joy that the world can 
 neither bestow nor impair, a pleasure in public and 
 in secret duties, and a hope which is, as the anchor 
 of the soul, both sure and stedfast, entering into 
 that within the veil, and so enabling you to outride 
 these storms and tempests ? How glorious does 
 your lot appear when viewed in the light of Scrip- 
 ture ? You are expressly told, All things are yours: 
 the Lord will give grace and glo'.y, and no good 
 thing will he withhold from you : all the paths of 
 the Lord are mercy and truth to you ; and ere long 
 you shall see how they are so. You have a sight 
 by faith of the inheritance appointed for his chil- 
 dren ; but he does not intend merely a distant pros- 
 pect for you : you shall go in, and possess that 
 good land, and shall ere long be absent from the 
 body, and present with the Lord : yea, tlie Lord 
 Jesus Christ, ere long, shall come to be glorified in 
 his saints, and to he admired in all them that be- 
 lieve, to be glorified and admired, in and by you in 
 particular ; when bearing the image of your 
 heavenly Father, you .ehall rise far beyond this 
 earth, and ail its vain anxieties, and vainer amuse- 
 ments, to dwell for ever in his presence. And what 
 is there in this world tliat you imagine you want, 
 which is by any means to be compared with these 
 enjoyments and hopes? Surely, Sirs, in such a 
 view, you should be much more than content ; and 
 should feel your inward admiration, love, and joy, 
 bursting the bonds of silence, and tuning your 
 
 voices, that have been broken by sighs, into the most 
 cheerful and exalted anthems of praise: especially 
 when you consider, 
 
 2. " How few there are that partake of this im- 
 portant favour, w hich God has extended to you." 
 
 I hope I need not, after all I have said, remind . 
 you at large, that I intend not by any means to 
 speak, as excluding those of diderent forms and 
 dilTerent experiences ; as if, in consequence of that 
 diversity, they had neither part nor lot in this mat- 
 ter. I hope that many who are not so ready, as it 
 were to be wished, to receive one another, are 
 nevertheless, in this respect, received by Christ to 
 the glory of God. Yet the temper and conduct of 
 the generality of mankind, even under a Christian 
 profession, too plainly shows, that they have the 
 marks of eternal ruin upon them : and one can form 
 no hope concerning them, consistent with the tenor 
 of the whole word of God, any other than this, that 
 possibly they may hereafter be changed into some- 
 thing contrary to what they are, and in that change 
 be happy. 
 
 Now, that you are not left among the wide ex- 
 tended ruins of mankind, but are set as pillars in the 
 building of God, is what you have been taught by 
 the preceding Discourses to refer to the grace of 
 God, which has taken and polished you to the form 
 you now bear : or, as the evangelist expresses it, in 
 language more suitable to the sul)ject before us, 
 The power, or privilege, to become tiie sons of God, 
 is what he gives to as many as receive him ; and 
 it is manifest as to your regeneration, that you are 
 born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor 
 of the will of man, but of God ; for we love him be- 
 cause he first loved us : and whatsoever our attain- 
 ments be, there is no true believer but will be ready, 
 with the apostle Paul, to say. By the grace of God 
 I am what I am. 
 
 And now, when these two thoughts are taken in 
 this comparison with each other, how deeply should 
 they impress our minds ! and how should it excite 
 us to the most lively gratitude, to consider, that 
 when so many of our fellow-creatures perish, even 
 under the sound of the gospel ; that when they live 
 and die under the power of a corrupt and degener- 
 ate nature, despising all the means which God lias 
 given them of becoming better, and turning them 
 into the occasion of greater mischief; God should 
 graciously incline our hearts to a wiser and better 
 choice ! It is indeed a melancholy reflection, that the 
 number of those who are made wise to salvation 
 should be so small ; yet it is an endearing circum- 
 stance in the divine goodness to us, that when it is 
 so small we should be included in it: as no doubt 
 it wo-.ild appear to every truly religious person in 
 the ark, that when but eight souls were saved from 
 the deluge, he should be one.— There is now a 
 remnant, says the apostle, according to the election 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 769 
 
 of grace : to that grace therefore should we render 
 the praise. We have indeed chosen him ; but it is 
 in consequence of his choosing us. We have said, 
 The Lord is my portion ; but let us remember to 
 bless him, that he has given us that counsel, in 
 consequence of which we have been inclined to do 
 it. Again, 
 
 3. Consider, " in the midst of how much oppo- 
 sition the grace of God has laid hold on your souls, 
 and wrought its wonders of love there.'' 
 
 Christians, look into your own hearts ; yea, look 
 back upon your own lives, and see whether many 
 of you have not reason to say, with the great apos- 
 tle. It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all ac- 
 ceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to 
 save sinners, of whom I am chief : and yet to me, 
 who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace 
 given, that I should be a regenerate adopted child 
 of God, begotten to an inheritance of eternal glory. 
 
 " O," may one Christian say, " how obstinately 
 did I strive against my own happiness ! like a poor 
 creature, that having received some dangerous 
 wound, and being delirious with a fever attend- 
 ing it, struggles with the hand that is stretch- 
 ed out to heal him. How did I draw back from the 
 yoke of God ! How did I trifle with convictions, 
 and put them off from one time to another ! So that 
 God might most righteously have awakened any 
 heart rather than mine. He admonished me by his 
 word, and by his providence ; he sent aftlictions ; 
 he wrought out deliverances for me ; and yet I went 
 on to harden my heart, as if I had been aQlicted, 
 and delivered, that I might work greater abomina- 
 tions ; till the Lord being merciful unto me, laid 
 hold upon nic, and drew me out of Sodom.'' 
 
 And here another Christian will be retidy to say 
 within himself, " If the grace of God wrought 
 sooner upon me when my soul was more pliant, 
 when my heart was comparatively tender, in infancy 
 or childhood, or in early youth ; yet what ungrate- 
 ful returns have I since made for his mercy ! How 
 defective have I been in those fruits of holiness 
 which might reasonably have been expected from 
 me, who have so long a time been planted in the 
 house of the Lord! Alas for me! that I have 
 flourished no more in the courts of my God. How 
 often have I forgotten and forsaken him, how cold 
 and negligent has my spirit been, how inconstant 
 my walk, how indolent my behaviour, for these 
 many years that have passed since I was first 
 brought into his family ! How little have I done 
 in his service in proportion to the advantages I 
 have enjoyed! All this he foresaw; all the in- 
 stances in which my goodness would be as a morn- 
 ing cloud, and as the early dew ; all the instances 
 in which this perverse heart of mine, so prone to 
 backslide, should turn aside, and start back from 
 him like a deceilful bow: and yet he has mercy 
 3 D 
 
 upon me, I know not why : I cannot pretend to 
 account for it any othervifise than by saying, Even 
 so. Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight : thou 
 hast mercy on whom thou wilt have mercy, and 
 thou hast compassion on whom thou wilt have com- 
 passion. I have revolted deeply from thee again 
 and again ; yet thou sufl'erest me not to be lost to 
 tliis very day, nor wilt thou ever suffer it: Thou 
 restorest my soul ; thou leadest me in the paths of 
 righteousness for thy name's sake. Having there- 
 fore obtained help of God, I continue to this 
 day : and surely goodness and mercy shall follow 
 me all the days of my life ; and unworthy as I am 
 so much as to enter into thy house belov,', I shall 
 dwell in the house of the Lord for ever above. 
 Thus, Lord, thou makcst me, as it were, a wonder 
 to myself; and I hope to express my admiration 
 and my gratitude throughout eternal ages : and if I 
 can vie with the rest of thy redeemed ones in 
 nothing else, I will at least do it in bowing low 
 before thy throne, and acknowledging that I am of 
 the number of the most unworthy, in whom my 
 Lord has been pleased to glorify the riches of his 
 mercy, and the freedom of his grace." 
 
 In the mean time. Christians, I call you, often to 
 entertain yourselves with such views as these, often 
 to excite your hearts by such lively considerations : 
 I call you, in the name of your Father and your 
 Saviour, to a whole life of gratitude and praise. 
 And this leads me to add, 
 
 [2.] " Improve those experiences you have had 
 of divine grace, as an engagement to behave in a 
 suitable manner." 
 
 Remember the lively admonition of the text, that 
 you were begotten by him for this very purpose, 
 that you should be a kind of first-fruits of his crea- 
 tures. See, therefore, that you be entirely conse- 
 crated to him, and behave as becomes the children 
 of God in the midst of a crooked and perverse 
 generation ; being not only harmless and blameless 
 among them, but shining as lights in the world, and 
 holding forth that word of life, by which he has 
 begotten you to himself, and quickened you when 
 you were dead in trespasses and sins. God has 
 now brought you into a most honourable relation : 
 he may, therefore, well expect more, much more, 
 from you than from others. He has made you 
 priests to himself, and you are therefore to offer up 
 spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God by Jesus 
 Christ. You were darkness, but now are yc light 
 in tlie Lord : walk therefore as children of light. 
 Remember jou are not your own ; your time, your 
 possessions, and all your capacities for service, arc 
 the property of your heavenly Father.— And permit 
 me to remind you, that if you desire to see this 
 doctrine of regeneration prevail, you, who prelend 
 to be experimentally acquninted with it, must take 
 care that your beiiaviuur may not only he innocent, 
 
770 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 but exemplary : otherwise many will be ready to 
 blaspheme the holy name of that God, whom you 
 call your Father ; and you are like to bring a 
 reproaeh upon the household of faith, whieh pro- 
 bably you will never be able to roll away. 
 
 Christians, the dignity of our birth and our hopes 
 is too little considered and regarded ; and the 
 reason why the world thinks so meanly of it, is 
 because we ourselves are so insensible of its excel- 
 lency. Did we apprehend it more, we should 
 surely be more solicitous to walk worthy of that 
 calling wherewith we are called, that high and holy 
 calling. Let me therefore exhort you to endeavour 
 to loosen your affections more from these entangle- 
 ments of time and sense, which so much debase our 
 minds, and dishonour our lives. Yield yourselves 
 unto God, as those that are alive from the dead ; 
 employing with a growing zeal, to the honour of 
 God, that renewed life which be has given you. Be 
 not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed 
 by the renewing of your minds : and let your con- 
 versation and behaviour be like those who feel the 
 constraining influences of divine love ; who are, 
 not in form, but in reality, devoted to God ; and 
 who would be continually waiting for his salvation, 
 with that temper in which you could most desire 
 that salvation to find you when it comes. 
 
 [3.] Let those who have experienced the power 
 of divine grace themselves, " study to promote the 
 work of God upon the hearts of others." 
 
 Labour, as much as possible, to spread this temper 
 which God has wrought in your hearts ; for you 
 cannot but know that with it you spread true hap- 
 piness, which alone is to be found in that inter- 
 course with the great Author of our being, for which 
 this lays a foundation, and in the regular exercise 
 of those powers which are thus sanctified. No 
 sooner was Paul converted himself, but he pre- 
 sently set himself to bring otliers to Christ, and to 
 preach the faith which once he destroyed. And 
 David speaks of it as the effect of God's pardoning 
 love to him. Then will I teach transgressors thy 
 ways, and sinners shall be converted unto thee. 
 
 If, therefore, God has called us to the office of the 
 ministry, as the experience of this change on our 
 own hearts will be our best qualification for our 
 public work, (and indeed such a qualification that 
 nothing else can supply the want of it,) so it will 
 surely excite us in a very powerful manner to apply 
 vigorously to this care. That which we have not 
 only heard, but seen with our eyes, and looked 
 upon, and handled of the word of life, let us declare 
 to others; that their fellowship also may be with 
 the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. Let us 
 declare it in our public discourses, and never be 
 ashamed to bear our testimony to that grace to 
 which we are so much indebted, to that grace by 
 which we are what wc are. Let us warn every 
 
 man, and teach every man the absolute necessity of 
 regeneration ; and expose the vanity of all those 
 hopes whieh are built upon any fair outside, on any 
 moral decency of behaviour, on any humane turn 
 of temper, on any warm fiight of imagination or 
 emotion of passions, while tiie soul continues un- 
 renewed and unsanetified. Let us undeavour to 
 save men with fear, pulling them out of the lire, 
 which, if they are yet unregenerate, is just ready 
 to kindle upon them. And let us be often review- 
 ing our respective flocks, that we may see who they 
 are, concerning whom there is reason to entertain 
 this fear; that proper applications may be made to 
 them in private, as well as in public ; that joining 
 our admonitions to our sermons, and our prayers 
 and examples to both, we may at least deliver our 
 own souls, if we cannot deliver theirs. But, in 
 proportion to the degree that such a spirit prevails 
 in us, there is very great encouragement to hope it 
 will be propagated to them, and that our labour 
 shall not be in vain in the Lord. 
 
 And let me beseech you, my beloved hearers in 
 other stations of life, that you would not imagine 
 the work is so entirely ours, that you have nothing 
 to do with it. Are we alone redeemed by the blood 
 of the Son of God ? Are we alone renewed and 
 sanctified by his grace ? Are we alone the brethren 
 and friends of mankind, that the generous care and 
 endeavour to promote their eternal happiness should 
 be entirely devolved upon us ! We wish so well to 
 the world, and permit us to say, we wish so well to 
 you, to your own religious consolation and esta- 
 blishment, to your comfortable account, to your 
 eternal reward, that we cannot but earnestly exhort 
 you all, even as many as have tasted that the Lord 
 is gracious, that in this respect you join, not only, 
 as I trust you do, your prayers with ours, but that 
 you also join your endeavours. 
 
 Let me particularly address this exhortation to 
 those of you who bear any distinguished office in the 
 society, to whom therefore its religious interests are 
 dear by additional ties. Let me address those of 
 you whose age and experience, in the human and 
 the divine life, give you something of a natural au- 
 thority in your application, and command a distin 
 guished regard. Look round about you, and observe 
 the state of religion in your neighbourhood ; and 
 labour to the uttermost to propagate not so much 
 this or that particular opinion, or form of worship, 
 but real vital Christianity in the world. Bear your 
 testimony to it on all proper occasions ; be not 
 ashamed of it in your familiar discourse ; and above 
 all, labour to adorn it by your actions. And when 
 you see any under serious impressions, as it is cer- 
 tain they will have a great deal discouraging and 
 difficult to break through ; and as the devil and his 
 in.struments, among whom I must necessarily reckon 
 licentious company, will be doing their utmost to 
 
ON REGENERATION. 
 
 771 
 
 draw them back into the snare of the fowler ; let 
 me exhort and charge you to be as solicitous to 
 save as others are to destroy. I know how many 
 excuses our cowardly and indolent hearts are ready 
 to find out upon such an occasion ; but I think those 
 words of Solomon are a sufficient answer to all, and 
 I beg yon would seriously revolve them ; If thou 
 forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, 
 and those that are ready to be slain ; if thou sayest, 
 Behold, we knew it not ; doth not he that ponder- 
 eth the heart consider it ? and he that keepeth thy 
 .soul (thine, O Christian, with such peculiar and 
 gracious care,) doth not he know it? and shall not 
 he render to every man according to his works? 
 He will assuredly remember, and will abundantly 
 reward, every work of faith, and every labour of 
 love ; and we are insensible of our own truest in- 
 terest, if we do not see how much it is concerned 
 here. 
 
 Let me especially leave this exhortation with you, 
 who are parents and heads of families. And one 
 would imagine there should need but little impor- 
 tunity in such a case as this ; one would think your 
 own hearts should speak to you, upon such an occa- 
 sion, in very pathetic language. Look upon your 
 dear cliildrcn, to whom jou have conveyed a nature 
 which you know to be degenerate and corrupt ; and 
 be earnest in your prayers before God, and your en- 
 deavours with them, that it may be renewed. And 
 take care tliat you do not in this sense despise the 
 soul of your man-servant, or of your maid-servant. 
 God has brought them under your care, it may be, 
 in those years of life in which, on the one hand, 
 they are most capable of being instructed and seri- 
 ously impressed ; and in which, on the other hand, 
 they are also most in danger of being corrupted. 
 Perhaps their relation to you, and abode with you, 
 is the most advantageous circumstance whictii mav 
 occur in their whole lives : see, therefore, that you 
 seize it with a holy eagerness ; and amidst all the 
 charges you give them relating to your own busi- 
 ness, neglect not tliat of the one thing needful ; and 
 labour heartily to bring them to the honour and 
 happiness which is common to all God's servants, 
 and peculiar to them alone. 
 
 Let me conclude this part of my address with en- 
 treating you all to express your concern for the 
 souls of others, by your importunate prayers to God 
 for tlicm. Pray for the success of gospel ordi- 
 nances ; and for a blessing on the labours of all 
 God's faithful servants throughout our whole land, 
 of one or another denomination in religion. Yea, 
 pray that throughout the whole world, God would 
 revive his work in the midst of the years ; that the 
 religion of his Son, by which so many souls have 
 been regenerated, refined, and saved, may be uni- 
 versally propagated ; and that all who are vigorous- 
 ly engaged in so important, though so self-denying, 
 3 D 2 
 
 a work, may find that the hand of the Lord is with 
 them, and so multitudes believe and turn unto the 
 Lord ; so that his sons may be brought from far, and 
 his daughters from the ends of the earth ; that tlje 
 barren may rejoice, and she that did not travail 
 with child, may break forth into singing, and cry 
 aloud ; that the children of nations now strangers 
 to Christ, may be more than of those that are 
 already espoused to him. And then, 
 
 [4.] Let all that are born again, " long for that 
 blessed world, w here the work of God shall be com- 
 pleted, and we shall appear with a dignity and 
 glory becoming his children." 
 
 As for God, his work is perfect ; and the time, the 
 happy time, is approaching, when we shall know, 
 and the whole world shall know, in another man- 
 ner than we now do, what our heavenly Father has 
 intended for us in begetting us to himself. — What- 
 ever our attainments here may be, we know at pre- 
 sent but in part ; and with whatever integrity of 
 soul we now walk before God, we are sanctified 
 but in part: and hereupon we find, and must ex- 
 pect to find, the flesh striving against the Spirit, as 
 well as the Spirit against the flesh ; so that, in 
 many respects, we cannot do the things that we 
 would : and in proportion to the degree in which 
 our nature is refined and brightened, we are more 
 sensible of the evil of these corruptions that remain 
 within us ; so that though wc are not, in a strict 
 propriety of speech, carnal and .lold under sin, but 
 do indeed delight in the law of God after the in- 
 ward man, yet in the humility of our hearts we are 
 often borrowing that pallielic complaint, " Oh, 
 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me froui 
 the body of this death !" — But let it be remembered. 
 Christians, as the matter of your joy, that the strug- 
 gle shall not be penietual, that it shall not indeed 
 be Jong. Look up with pleasure then, and lift up 
 your heads ; for your redemption draweth nigh : the 
 time is approaching, when that whic-h is perfect 
 shall come, and that which is in part sliall be done 
 away. You arc now the children of God ; but it 
 does not appear to every eye that you are so : the 
 world knows us not, nor are we to wonder at it ; for 
 even Christ our Lord was once unknown, and ap- 
 peared in so much meanness, and so much calamity, 
 that an undiscerning and carnal eye could not have 
 discovered who and wliat he was. But there is a 
 day appointed for the manifestation of the sons of 
 God, (as the apostle Paul most happily expresses 
 it,) when he will manifest them to each otiier, and 
 manifest them also to the whole world. They shall 
 not always live thus at a distance from their 
 Father's house, and under those dispensations of 
 Providence, that look so much like disregard and 
 neglect ; but he %vill take them home, and gather 
 them to himself. Ere long, Christians, he will call 
 these heaven-horn spirits of yours, that are now 
 
772 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 aspiring towards him, to dwell in liis immediate 
 presence: lie will reeeive yoii to liimself ; and you 
 shall stand where no sinner shall have a place, in 
 the congregation of the righteous, and shall have an 
 inheritance among the saints in light, the saints in 
 holiness and glory. — O happy day ! when drop- 
 ping this body into the grave, we shall ascend pure 
 and joyful spirits to that triumphant assembly, 
 where there is not one vitiated affection, not one 
 foolisli thought, to be found among the tiiousands 
 and ten thousands of God's Israel ! O blessed period 
 of a regenerate state ! Though all the schemes of 
 the divine love were to rest here, and these bodies 
 Averc for ever to be laid aside, and utterly to be lost 
 in the grave ; the rejoicing soul might say, " liOrd, 
 it is enough !" And it niiglit be indeed enough for 
 us ; but it is not enough to answer the gracious pur- 
 poses of God's paternal love. God will show, in 
 the most conspicuous manner, what a family he has 
 raised to himself among the children of men ; and 
 therefore he will assemble them all in their com- 
 |)Iete persons, and w ill do it with solemn pomp 
 and magnificent parade. He will, for this purpose, 
 send his own Son, with all his holy angels, and will 
 cause the bodies of millions of his children, that 
 liave long dwelt in the dust, to spring out of it at 
 once in forms of beauty and lustre, worthy their re- 
 lation to him. This therefore is, with beautiful 
 propriety, called by the apostle the adoption, even 
 the redemption of our body ; alluding to the public 
 ceremony, with which adoptions among the ancients 
 were solemnly confirmed and declared, after they 
 had been more privately transacted between the 
 parties immediately concerned. 
 
 O Christians, how reasonable is it that our souls 
 should be rising with a secret ardour towards this 
 blessed hope, this glorious abode ! — It is pleasant 
 for the children of God to meet and converse with 
 one another upon earth ; so pleasant, that I wonder 
 they do not more frecjuently form themselves into 
 little societies, in which, under that character, they 
 
 should join their discourses and their prayer."?. — It is 
 delightful to address to those that, we trust, through 
 grace are born of God. No discourses are more plea- 
 sant than those that suit them ; and could we, that 
 are the ministers of Christ, reasonably hope, that we 
 had none but such to attend our labours, we should 
 joyfully confine our discourses to such subjects. — 
 Yet, while we are here, we sec imperfections in 
 others, we feel them yet more painfully in ourselves ; 
 and as there is no pure unmixed society, no fellow- 
 ship on earth that is completely holy and without 
 blemish, so there is now no pure delight, no perfect 
 pleasure, to be met with here. — O, when shall I 
 depart from this mixed society, and reach that state 
 where all is good, all glorious ? where I shall see 
 my heavenly Father, and all my brethren in the 
 Lord ; and shall behold them all for ever acting up 
 to their character ! All giving thanks to the Father, 
 who has made us meet to be partakers of the in- 
 heritance of the saints in light ! All for ever Vless- 
 ing and serving the great Redeemer; and without 
 one ungenerous action, one reflecting word, one 
 suspicious thought, for ever serving each other in 
 love, rejoicing in each other's happiness, and with 
 the most prudent and stedfast application for ever 
 studying and labouring to improve it ! 
 
 \^'ith the most earnest desire that you, my dear 
 brethren and friends, may at length attain to this 
 state of perfection and glory ; and with a cheerful 
 expectation, through divine grace, that I shall, ere 
 long, meet many of you in it ; I close this Sermon, 
 and these Discourses : not without a humble hope, 
 that when we arrive at this blessed world, these 
 hours which we have spent together in the house of 
 God in attending them, will come into a pleasant 
 remembrance ; and that the God of all grace, to 
 whose glory they are faithfully devoted, and to 
 whose blessing they are humbly committed, will 
 honour them as the means of increasing his family, 
 as well as of feeding and quickening those who are 
 already his regenerate children ! Amen. 
 
SINGLE SERMONS, 
 
 AND 
 
 DISCOURSES ON PARTICULAR OCCASIONS. 
 
PRACTICi^L SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 THE CARE OF THE SOUL THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 As I would not willingly incur the censure of being over-forward in publishing so plain a Sermon 
 on so common a subject, I beg leave to inform the reader of the occasion that determined me to do it. 
 
 The following Discourse was first preached to a very numerous auditory at the funeral of a young 
 person, who being seized on a sudden with a violent and mortal illness, which nevertheless did not 
 destroy the exercise of her reason, was deeply impressed with a sense of her eternal interest, and 
 expressed that sense in a manner which affected me as mudi as any tiling of that nature wliicli I had 
 ever seen ; not only recommending tlie text to mc, but also charging this one thing needful on her bro- 
 ther and sisters in my hearing, with a solemnity and earnestness, which I hope neither they nor I shall 
 ever forget. But I injputed the remarkable attention with which the Sermon was heard, and the kind 
 notice which was afterwards taken of it by many, to that awful circumstance, rather than to any thing 
 in the Discourse itself. 
 
 I had after^vards the honour to preach it, with some proper alterations, before some worthy and excel- 
 lent persons of considerable rank and eminence in life, who arc not ashamed publicly to own, that 
 religion is their greatest concern. They were pleased to express such satisfaction in the seriousness and 
 plainness m ith wliich this important subject was handled, that they urged me, with an earnestness whicli 
 I did not at all expect, to let them have some printed copies of it, tiiat they might disperse them amongst 
 their tenants and servants. I think too highly of these valuable friends 1o prefix tlicir names to so in- 
 considerable a performance, which would do a great honour to a book, far superior to any I can ever 
 hope to present them with. But as I am well assured of llieir continued candour towards me, so I hope 
 the authority of their command will be allowed as a sullieient apology for this publication. 
 
 We are so near the eternal state, and must so soon be silent in the dust, that methinks nothing which 
 looks like a call of Providence, directing to any opportunity of doing good to the souls of men, should 
 be neglected. And if these obvious but weighty truths may, through the concurrence of divine grace, be 
 made useful for the conversion of one of the lowest of those for wiiose service this Discourse was asked 
 and transcribed, I shall think this little labour abundantly repaid, even thougli many others should say, 
 as they probably will, that I have made a little addition to the number of unnecessary books with which 
 the world is already encumbered. 
 
 Luke x. 42, former part. 
 
 One thing is needf ul. 
 
 It was the amiable character of our blessed Re- 
 deemer, that he went about doing good. This great 
 motive, which animated all his actions, brought 
 him to the house of his friend Lazarus, at Bethany, 
 and directed his behaviour there. Though it was 
 a season of recess from public labour, our Lord 
 
 brought the sentiments and the pious cares of a 
 preacher of righteousness into the parlour of a 
 friend ; and there his doctrine dropped as the rain, 
 and distilled as the dew, on the little happy circle 
 that were then surrounding him. Mary, the sister 
 of Lazarus, with great delight made one amongst 
 them ; she set herself down at the feet of Jesus, in 
 the posture of a humble disciple ; and we have a 
 great deal of reason to believe, that Martha, his 
 other sister, would gladly have been with her there ; 
 
776 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 l>ut (lomcstic cares pressed hard upon her, anil she 
 Mas ciinibcreil with nuicli serving, being, pcrliaps, 
 too solicitous to prepare a sumptuous entertain- 
 ment for her heavenly Master, and the train that 
 attended him. Happy are they, that in a crowd of 
 business do not lose something of the spirituality 
 of their minds, and of the composure and sweet- 
 ness of their tempers ! This good woman comes to 
 our Lord with too impatient a complaint; insinu- 
 ating some little retlcction, not only on Marj-, but 
 on himself too. Lord, dost thou not care that my 
 sister hath left me to serve alone ? Bid her there- 
 fore that she help me. Our Lord, willing to take 
 all opportunities of suggesting useful thoughts, 
 answers her in these words, of which the text is a 
 part, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled 
 about many things, but one tiling is needful, and 
 Mary has chosen that good part which shall not be 
 taken away from her, q. d. Alas, Martha! the con- 
 cerns of the soul are of so much greater importance 
 than those of the body, that I cannot blame your 
 sister on this occasion : I rather recommend her to 
 your imitation, and caution you, and all niy other 
 friends, to be much on your guard, that in the 
 midst of your worldly cares, you do not lose the 
 sight of that which so much better deserves your 
 attention. 
 
 I shall consider the words, one thing is needful, as 
 a kind of aphorism, or wise and weighty sentence, 
 tlropped from the mouth of our blessed Redeemer, 
 and evidently W'ortliy of our most serious regard. 
 Ill handling them I shall, 
 
 I. Consider what we are to understand by the 
 one thing here spoken of. 
 
 II. Show you what is intended when it is repre- 
 sented as the one thing medful. 
 
 III. I will show how justly it may be so repre- 
 sented, or prove that it is indeed the one thing 
 needful. 
 
 IV. Conclude with some reflections and applica- 
 tion. 
 
 My friends, the words which are now before us 
 are, to this day, as true as they were seventeen 
 hundred years ago. Set your hearts to attend to 
 them. O that you might, by divine grace, be 
 awakened to hear them with a due regard, and 
 might be so impressed with the plain and serious 
 things w hich are now to be spoken, as you probably 
 would, if I were speaking by your dying beds, and 
 you had the full exercise of your reason, and the 
 near and lively view of eternity ! 
 
 I. I am briefly to consider what w e are to under- 
 stand by the one thing needful. 
 
 Now I answer, in a few words. It is the care of 
 the soul, opposed, as you see in the text, to the 
 care, i. e. the excessive care, of tlic Uody, for which 
 Martha was gently admonished by our Lord. This 
 is a general answer, and it coipprehends a variety 
 
 of important particulars, which it is the business of 
 our ministry often to open to you at large. The 
 care of the soul implies a readiness to hear the 
 words of Christ, to set ourselves, with ISIary, at his 
 feet, and to receive both the law and the gosi)el 
 from his mouth. It supposes, that we learn from 
 this divine Teadier the worth of our souls, tlicir 
 danger, and their remedy ; that we become above 
 all things solicitous about their eternal salvation ; 
 that, heartily repenting of all our sins, and cordi- 
 ally believing the everlasting gospel, we receive the 
 Lord Jesus Christ for righteousness and life, rest- 
 ing our souls on the value of his atonement, and 
 the cflicacy of his grace. It imports the sincere 
 dedication of ourselves to tlie service of God, and 
 a faithful adherence to it, notwithstanding all the 
 oppositions arising from inward corruptions, or 
 outward temptations, and a resolute perseverance 
 in the way of gospel dependence, till we receive 
 the end of our faith in our complete salvation. 
 This is the one thing needful, represented indeed in 
 various Scriptures by various names. Sometimes 
 it is called regeneration, or the new creature, be- 
 cause it is the blessed w'ork of God's efiicacious 
 grace ; sometimes the fear of God ; and sometimes 
 his love, and the keeping his commandments : and 
 very frequently in the New Testament it is called 
 faith, or receiving Christ, and believing on him, 
 which therefore is represented as the great work of 
 God, ?. e. the great thing which God in his glorious 
 gospel requires, as well as by his Spirit produces in 
 us : each of these, if rightly understood and ex- 
 plained, comprehends all that I have said on this 
 head. On the whole, we may say, that, as the body 
 is one, though it has many members, and the soul 
 is one, though it has many faculties ; so, in the 
 present case, this real, vital religion is one thing, 
 one sacred principle of divine life, bringing us to 
 attend to the care of our souls, as of our greatest 
 treasure. It is one thing, notwithstanding all the 
 variety of views in which it may be considered, and 
 of characters under which it may be described. I 
 proceed, 
 
 II. To consider what may be intended in the rer 
 presentation which is here made of it, as the one 
 thing needful. 
 
 Now I think it naturally includes these three 
 particulars : It is a matter of universal concern, — of 
 the highest importance,— and of so comprehensive a 
 nature, that every thing which is truly worthy of 
 our regard may be considered as included in it, or 
 subservient to it. Let me a little illustrate each of 
 these particulars, reserving the proof of what I now 
 assert to the third general, w here it will abundantly 
 appear. 
 
 1. The care of the soul may be called the one 
 thing needful, " ^s it is matter of universal con- 
 cern." 
 
PRACTICAL 
 
 Our Lord, you see, speaks of it as needful in the 
 peueral. He says not for this or that particular 
 person ; or for those of such an age, station, or cir- 
 cumstance in life, but needful for all. And indeed, 
 •w hen discoursing on such a subject, one might pro- 
 perly introduce it with those solemn Avords of the 
 Psalmist, Give ear, all ye people, hear, all ye in- 
 habitants of the earth, both high and low, rich and 
 poor together. For it is the concern of all, from the 
 king that sits upon the throne, to the servant that 
 grindeth at the mill, or the beggar that lieth upon 
 the dunghill. It is needful for us that are minis- 
 ters, for our own salvation is concerned. And woe, 
 insupportable woe will be to our souls, if we think 
 it enough to recommend it to others, to talk of it in 
 a warm, or an awful, manner, in public assemblies, 
 or in our private converse ; while it does not pene- 
 trate our hearts as our own greatest care. Our case 
 will then be like that of the Israelitish lord in 
 Samaria, who was employed to distribute the com 
 when the siege was raised, seeing it with our eyes, 
 and dispensing it with our hands, we shall ourselves 
 die miserably, without tasting the blessings we im- 
 part. It is needful to all you that are our hearers, 
 without the exception of one single person. It is 
 needful to you that are rich, though it may on some 
 accounts be peculiarly difficult for you ; even as 
 difficult, comparatively speaking, as for a camel to 
 go through the eye of a needle : yet if it be neglect- 
 ed, you arc poor in the midst of all your wealth, 
 and miserable in all your abundance ; and a wretch 
 starving for hunger, in a magnificent palace and a 
 rich dress, would be less the object of compassion 
 than you. It is needful for you that are poor; 
 though you are distressed with so many anxious 
 cares, what you shall eat, and what you shall drink, 
 and wherewithal you shall be clothed. The nature 
 that makes you capable of such anxieties as these, 
 argues your much greater concern in the bread 
 which endures to eternal life, than in tliat by which 
 this mortal body must 1)C supported. It is needful 
 for you that are advanced in years, tliough your 
 strength be impaired so that the grasshopper is a 
 burthen ; though you have by your long continu- 
 ance in sin rendered this great work so hard, that 
 were it less important, one would in pity let you 
 alone without reminding you of it : yet, late as it 
 is, it must be done, or your hoary heads will be 
 brought down to the grave with wrath, and sink 
 tinder a curse aggravated by every year and every 
 day of your lives. It is needful to you that are 
 young, though solicited by so many gay vanities 
 to neglect it ; though it may be represented as an 
 unseasonable care at present, yet I repeat it, it is 
 needful to you; immediately needful, unless you 
 who walk so frequently over the dust of your bre- 
 thren and companions, that died in the bloom and 
 vigour of their days, have made some secret cove- 
 
 SERMONS. 777 
 
 nant with the grave for yourselves, and found out 
 some wonderful method, hitherto unknown, of se- 
 curing this precarious life, and of answering for 
 days and months to come, while others cannot 
 answer for one single moment. 
 
 2. The care of the soul is " a matter of the 
 highest importance ;" beyond any thing which can 
 be brought into comparison with it. 
 
 As Solomon says of wisdom, that it is more pre- 
 cious than rubies, and that all things which can be 
 desired are not to be compared with her ; so may I 
 properly say of this great and most important branch 
 of wisdom, whatever can be laid in the balance with 
 it, will be found altogether lighter than vanity. 
 This is strongly implied when it is said, in the text. 
 One thing is needful ; q. d. one thing, and one thing 
 alone, is so. Just as the blessed God is said to be 
 only wise, and only holy, because the wisdom and 
 holiness of angels and men is as nothing, when 
 compared with his. What seems most great and 
 most important in life, what kings and senates, 
 what the wisest and greatest of this world, are 
 employing tlieir time, their councils, their pens, 
 their labours upon, are tritlcs, when compared with 
 this one thing. A man may subsist, he may in 
 some considerable measure be happy, without 
 learning, without richer, without titles, without 
 health, without liberty, without friends, nay, though 
 the life be more than meat, and the body than rai- 
 ment, yet may he be happy, unspeakably happy, 
 without the body itself. But he cannot be so in the 
 neglect of the one thing needful. I must therefore 
 bespeak your regard to it in tlie words of Moses, It 
 is not a light thing, but it is your life. 
 
 3. The care of the soul is of so comprehensive a 
 nature, that " every thing truly worthy of our 
 regard may be considered as included in it, or 
 subservient to it." 
 
 As David observes, that the commandment of 
 God is exceeding broad, so may we say of this one 
 thing needful; and, as Solomon very justly and 
 emphatically expresses it, to fear God and to keep 
 his commandments is the whole of man ; his whole 
 duty, and his whole interest ; and every thing 
 which is wise and rational does in its proper place 
 and connexion make a part of it. We should 
 judge very ill concerning the nature of this care, 
 if we imagined, that it consisted merely in acts of 
 devotion, or religious contemplation ; it compre- 
 hends all the lovely and harmonious band of social 
 and humane virtues. It requires a care of society, 
 a care of our bodies, and of our temporal concerns ; 
 but then all is to be regulated, directed, and ani- 
 mated, by proper regards to God, Christ, and im- 
 mortality. Our food and our rest, our trades and 
 our labours, are to be attended to, and all the oflices 
 of humanity performed in obedience to the will of 
 God, for the glory of Christ, and in a view to the 
 
778 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 iinpro\iiig tlie mind in a g,iowin{!; meetness for a 
 state of complete perfection. Name any tliinj? 
 wliicL has no reference at all to this, and yon name 
 a worthless trifle, however it may be pfilded to allure 
 the eye, however it may be sweetened to {^ratify the 
 taste. Name a thing which, instead of thus im- 
 proving the soul, has a tendency to debase and 
 pollute, to enslave and endanger it, and you name 
 what is most unprofitable and mischievous, be the 
 wages of ini(|uity ever so great; most foul and 
 deformed, be it in the eyes of men ever so honour- 
 able, or in their customs ever so fashionable. Thus 
 I have endeavoured to show you what we may sup- 
 pose implied in this expression of one thing being 
 needful. I am now, 
 
 III. To show you with how much propriety the 
 care of the soul may be represented under this cha- 
 racter, as the one thing needful, as a matter of uni- 
 versal and most serious concern, to which every 
 thing else is to be considered as subservient, if at 
 all worthy of our care and pursuit. Now let me 
 appeal to the sentiments of those who must be al- 
 lowed most capable of judging, — and to the evident 
 reason of the case itself, as it must appear to every 
 unprejudiced mind. 
 
 1. Let me argue " from the sentiments of those 
 who must be allowed most capable of judging in 
 such an affair," and we shall quickly see that the 
 care of the soul appears to them the one thing needful. 
 
 Is the judgment of the blessed God according to 
 truth ? How evidently and how solemnly is that 
 judgment declared ! I will not sny merely in this or 
 the other particular passage of his word, but in the 
 whole series of his revelations to the children of 
 men, and the whole tenor of his addresses to them. 
 Is not this the language of all, from the early days 
 of Job and Moses to the conclusion of the canon of 
 Scripture ? If wisdom be hid from the eyes of all 
 the living, surely Clod understandeth the way there- 
 of, be knowelh the place thereof; and if he does, 
 it is plainly pointed out ; for unto man he still saith. 
 Behold the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to 
 depart from evil, that is understanding. By Moses 
 he declared to the Israelites, that to do the com- 
 mandments of the Lord would be their wisdom and 
 their understanding in the sight of the nations, who 
 should hear his statutes, and say. Surely tliis is a 
 wise and an understanding people. When he had 
 raised up one man on the throne of Israel, with the 
 character of the wisest that ever lived upon the face 
 of the earth, he chose to make him eminently a 
 teacher of this great truth. And now all that he 
 spoke on the curious and less-concerning subjects 
 of natural philosophy is lost, though he spoke of 
 trees, from the cedar to the hyssop, and of beasts, 
 and of fowls, and of creeping things, and of fishes : 
 that saying is preserved in which he testifies that 
 the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, 
 
 and those proverbs, in almost every line of which 
 they who neglect God and their own souls are 
 spoken of as fools, as if that were the most projjcr 
 signification of the word ; while the religious alone 
 are honoured with the title of wise. But in this 
 respect, as attesting this truth in the name of God 
 and in his own, a greater than Solomon is here. 
 
 For if we inquire what it was that our Lord Jesus 
 Christ judged to be the one thing needful, the words 
 of the text contain as full an answer as can be 
 imagined ; and the sense of them is repeated in a 
 very lively and emphatieal manner, in that remark- 
 able passage wherein our Lord not only declares his 
 own judgment, but seems to appeal to the con- 
 sciences of all, as obliged by their own secret con- 
 victions to subscribe to the truth of it. What is a 
 man profited, if he gain the whole world and lose 
 his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange 
 for his soul ? If it were once lost, what would he 
 not be willing to give to redeem it? But it depends 
 not on the words of Christ alone. Let his actions, 
 his sufferings, his blood, his death, speak what a 
 value he set on the souls of men. Is it to be ima- 
 gined that lie would have relinquished heaven, that 
 he would have dwelt upon earth, that he would have 
 laboured by night and by day, and at last have 
 expired on the cross, for a matter of light import- 
 ance? Or can we think that he, in whom dwell all 
 the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, and all the 
 fulness of the Godhead l)odily, was mistaken in 
 judgment so deliberately formed, and so solemnly 
 declared ? 
 
 If after this there were room to mention human 
 judgment, and testimonies, how easy would it be to 
 produce a cloud of witnesses in such a cause, and 
 to show that the wisest and best of men in all ages 
 of the world have agreed in this point, that amidst 
 all the diversities of opinion and profession, which 
 succeeding generations have produced, this has been 
 the unanimous judgment, this the common and most 
 solicitous care of those, whose characters are most 
 truly valuable, to secure the salvation of their own 
 souls, and to promote the salvation of others. 
 
 And let me beseech you seriously to reflect, what 
 arc the characters of those who have taken the 
 liberty, most boldly and freely, to declare their 
 judgment on the cojitrary side ? The number of such 
 is comparatively few ; and when you compare what 
 you have observed of their temper and conduct, I 
 will not say with what you read of holy men of 
 old, but with what you have yourselves .seen in the 
 faithful, active, and zealous servants of Christ, in 
 these latter ages, with which you have conversed, 
 do you on the whole find that the rejectors and de- 
 riders of the gospel, arc in other respects so much 
 more prudent and judicious, so much wiser for them- 
 selves, and for others that are influenced by them, 
 as that you can be in reason obliged to pay any 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 779 
 
 great deference to the authority of a few such 
 names as these, in opposition to those to which they 
 are here opposed ? 
 
 But you will say, and you will say it too truly, 
 though but a few may venture in words to declare 
 for the neglect of the soul and its eternal interest, the 
 greater part of mankind do it in their actions. But 
 are the greater part of mankind so wise, and so good, 
 as implicitly to be followed in matters of the highest 
 importance ? and do not multitudes of these declare 
 themselves on the other side, in their most serious 
 moments ? When the intoxications of worldly busi- 
 ness and pleasures are over, and some languishing 
 sickness forces men to solitude and retirement, what 
 have you generally observed to be the effect of such 
 a circumstance ? Have they not then declared them- 
 selves convinced of the truth we are now labouring to 
 establish ? Nay, do we not sometimes see that a dis- 
 temper which seizes the mind with violence, yet does 
 not utterly destroy its reasoning faculties, fixes this 
 conviction on the soul in a few hours, nay, sometimes 
 in a few moments ! Have you never seen a gay, 
 thoughtless creature, surprised in the giddy round 
 of pleasures and amusements, and presently brought 
 not only to seriousness, but terror and trembling, 
 by the near views of death ? Have you never seen 
 the man of business and care interrupted, like the 
 rich fool in the parable, in the midst of his schemes 
 for the present world .' And have you not heard one 
 and the other of them owning the vanity of those 
 pleasures and cares, which but a few days ago were 
 every thing to them ; confessing that religion was 
 the one thing needful, and recommending it to 
 others with an earnestness, as if they hoped there- 
 by to atone for their own former neglect ! We that 
 are ministers frequently are witnesses to such things 
 I as these, and I believe few of our hearers are entire 
 strangers to them. 
 
 And once more, what if to the testimony of the 
 dying we could add that of the dead ? What if 
 God were to turn aside the veil which separates 
 between us and the invisible world, and to permit 
 the most careless sinner in the assembly to con- 
 verse for a few moments with the inhabitants of it ? 
 If you were to apply yourself to a happy spirit, 
 that trod the most thorny road to paradise, or passed 
 through the most fiery trial, and to ask him, " Was 
 it worth your M hile to labour so much, and to en- 
 dure so much, for what you now possess ?" Surely, 
 if the blessed in heaven were capable of indigna- 
 tion, it would move them to hear that it should be 
 made a question. And on the other hand, if you 
 could inquire of one tormented in that flame below, 
 though he might once be clothed in purple and fine 
 I linen, and fare sumptuously every day, if you 
 could ask him, " whether his former enjoyments 
 were any equivalent for his present sufferings and 
 despair ?" What answer do you suppose he would 
 
 return ? Perhaps an answer of so much horror and 
 rage, as you would not be able so much as to en- 
 dure. Or if the malignity of his nature should 
 prevent him from returning any answer at all, 
 surely there would be a language even in that 
 silence, a language in the darkness, and flames, 
 and groans of that infernal prison, which would 
 speak to your very soul what the word of God is 
 with equal certainty, though less forcible conviction, 
 speaking to your ear, that one thing is needful. 
 You see it is so in the judgment of God the Father, 
 and the Lord Jesus Christ ; of the wisest and best 
 of men ; of many, who seemed to judge most differ- 
 ently of it, when they come to more deliberate and 
 serious thought ; and not only of the dying, but 
 of the dead too, of those who have experimentally 
 known both worlds, and most surely know what is 
 to be preferred. But I will not rest the whole argu- 
 ment here, I add therefore : 
 
 2. I appeal " to the evident reason of the case 
 itself, as it must appear to every unprejudiced 
 mind," that the care of the soul is indeed the one 
 thing needful. 
 
 I still consider myself as speaking not to Atheists, 
 or to Deists, but to those who not only believe the 
 existence and providence of God, and a future state 
 of happiness and misery, but likewise who credit 
 the truth of the Christian revelation, as many un- 
 douhtedly do, who live in a fatal neglect of God 
 and their own souls. Now on these principles a 
 little reflection may be sufficient to convince you, — 
 that it is needful to the present repose of your own 
 mind ; — needful if ever you would secure eternal 
 happiness ; — if ever you would avoid eternal misery, 
 which will be aggravated, rather than alleviated, 
 by all your present enjoyments. 
 
 (1.) The care of the soul is the one thing needful, 
 because " without it you cannot secure the peace of 
 your own mind, nor avoid the upbraidings of your 
 conscience." 
 
 That noble faculty is, indeed, as you arc often 
 told, the vicegerent of God in the soul. It is sen- 
 sible of the dignity and worth of an immortal spirit, 
 and will sometimes cry out of the violence that is 
 offered to it, and cry so loud, as to compel the sin- 
 ner to hear, whether he will or no. Do you not 
 sometimes find it yourselves ? When you labour 
 most to forget the concerns of your soul, do they not 
 sometimes force tliemselves on your remembrance? 
 You are afraid of the reflections of your own mind, 
 but with all your artifice, and all your resolution, 
 can you entirely avoid them? Docs not conscience 
 follow you to your beds, even if denied the oppor- 
 tunity of meeting you in your closets, and though 
 with an unwelcome voice, there warn you, " that 
 your soul is neglected, and will quickly be lost?" 
 Does it not follow you to your shops and your fields, 
 when you are busiest there ? Nay, I will add, does 
 
780 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 it no! sometimes follow yon to the fcnst, to the club, 
 1o tlic dance, and perhaps, amidst all resistance, to 
 the theatre too ? Does it not sometimes mingle 
 your sweetest drau<^hts with wormwood, and your 
 gayest scenes with horror ? So that you are like a 
 tradesman, who, suspecting his afl'airs to be in a 
 bad posture, lays by his books and liis papers, yet 
 sometimes the}' will come accidentally in his way. 
 He hardlj' dares to look abroad for fear of meetino^a 
 creditor or an arrest ; and if he labours to forget his 
 cares and his dangers, in a course of luxury at home, 
 the remembrance is sometimes awakened, and the 
 alarm increased, by those very extravagances in 
 whidi he is attempting to lose it. Such, no doubt, 
 is the case of some of your minds, and it is a very 
 painful state ; and wliile things arc thus within, 
 external circumstances can no more make you 
 happ}', than a fine dress could relieve you under a 
 violent fit of the stone. Whereas if this great all'air 
 were secured, you might delight in reflection, as 
 much as you now dread it; and conscience, your 
 bitterest enemy, would become a delightful friend, 
 and the testimony of it your greatest rejoicing. 
 
 (2.) The care of the soul is the one thing needful, 
 " because without it you cannot possibly secure 
 your eternal happiness." 
 
 A crown of everlasting glory is not surely such a 
 • trine as to be thrown away on a careless creature, 
 that will not in good earnest pursue it. God doth 
 not ordinarily deal thus, even with the bounties of 
 his common providence, which are comparatively of 
 little value. As to these, the hand of the diligent 
 generally makes rich, and he would be thought dis- 
 tracted, rather than prudent, who should expect to 
 get an estate merely by wishing for it, or without 
 .some resolute and continued application to a proper 
 course of action for that purpose. Now, that we 
 may not foolishly dream of obtaining heaven in the 
 midst of a course of indolence and sloth, we are 
 expressly told in the word of God, that the king- 
 dom of heaven sulfers violence, and the violent 
 take it by force ; and are therefore exhorted to 
 strive, with the greatest intenseness and eagerness 
 of mind, as the word properly signifies, to enter in 
 at the strait gate, for this great and important 
 reason, because many shall another day seek to 
 enter in, and shall not be able. Nay, when our 
 Lord makes the most gracious promises to the hum- 
 ble petitioner, he does it in such a manner as to 
 exclude the hopes of those who are careless and 
 indifferent. Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, 
 and you shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened 
 unto you. If therefore you do not ask, seek, and 
 knock, the door of mercy will not be opened, and 
 eternal happiness « ill be lost. 
 
 And, surely, if I could say no more as to the fatal 
 consequences of your neglect, than this, that eternal 
 {lappiness will be lost, I should say enough to im- 
 
 press every mind that considers what eternity means. 
 To fall into a state of everlasting forgetfulness 
 might indeed appear a refuge to a mind lillcd with 
 the apprehension of future misery. But oh, how 
 dreadful a refuge is it ! Surely, it is such a refuge 
 as a vast precipice, from which a man falling 
 would be dashed to pieces in a moment, might 
 appear to a person pursued by the officers of justice, 
 that he might be brought out to a painful and 
 lingering execution. If an extravagant youth would 
 have reason to look round with anguish on some 
 fair and ample paternal inheritance, which he had 
 sold or forfeited merely for tlie riot of a few days, 
 how much more melancholy would it be for a 
 rational mind to tliink, that its eternal happiness is 
 lost for any earthly consideration wliatcver ! Tor- 
 menting thought! liad I attended to tliat one thing 
 which I have neglected, I might have been great 
 and happy, beyond expression, beyond conception. 
 Not merely for the little span of ten thousand 
 thousand ages, but for ever. So that the moment 
 would have come, when, if it had been asked con- 
 cerning me, " How long has that glorious spirit 
 been an inhabitant of heaven ? how long has it been 
 enjoying God and itself in that state of perfection ?" 
 — the answer would have been such, that a line 
 reaching even to the remotest star, would not ha%'e 
 been able to contain the number of ages, nor would 
 millions of years have been sufTicicnt to figure them 
 down. This is eternity, but I have lost it, and am 
 now on the verge of being. This lamp, which 
 might have outlasted those of the firmament, will 
 presently be extinguished, and I blotted out from 
 amongst the works of God, and cut off from all the 
 bounties of his hand. Would not this be a very 
 miserable case, if tliis were all ? And would it not 
 be sufficient to prove this to be the better part, 
 which, as our Lord observes, can never be taken 
 away? But God forbid that we should be so un- 
 faithful to him, and to the souls of men, as to rest 
 in such a representation alone. I therefore add, 
 once more, 
 
 (3.) The care of the soul is the one thing needful, 
 because " without it you cannot avoid a state of 
 eternal misery, which will be aggravated, rather 
 than alleviated, by your present enjoyments." 
 
 Nothing can be more evident from the word of 
 the God of truth. It there plainly appears to lie a 
 determined case, which leaves no room for a more 
 favourable conjecture or hope. The wicked shall 
 be turned into hell, even all the nations that forget 
 God. They shall go away into everlasting punish- 
 ment, into a state where they shall in vain seek 
 death, and death shall (lee from them. O Sirs, it 
 is a certain, but an awful, truth, that your souls 
 will be thinking and immortal beings, even in spite 
 of themselves. They may indeed torment, but they 
 cannot destroy, themselves. They can no more sus- 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 78t 
 
 pend their power of thought and perception, than a 
 mirror its property of rellecting rays that fall on its 
 surface. Do you suspect the contrary ? Make the 
 trial immediately. Command your minds to cease 
 from thinking but for one quarter of an hour, or 
 for half that time, and exclude every idea and 
 every reflection. Can you succeed in that attempt f 
 Or rather, does not thought press in with a more 
 sensible violence on that resistance ; as an anxious 
 desire to sleep, makes us so much the more wake- 
 ful. Thus will thought follow you beyond the 
 grave ; thus will it, as an unwelcome guest, force 
 itself upon you, when it can serve only to perplex 
 and distress the mind. It will for ever upbraid 
 you, that, notwithstanding all the kind expostula- 
 tions of God and man, notwithstanding all the keen 
 remonstrances of conscience, and the pleadings of 
 the blood of Christ, you have gone on in your folly, 
 until heaven is lost, and damnation incurred ; and 
 all for what ? — a shadow and a dream. 
 < O think not, sinners, that the remembrance of 
 your past pleasures, of your success in your other 
 cares, whilst that of the one thing needful was for- 
 gotten, think not that this will case your minds. It 
 will rather torment them the more. Son, remem- 
 ber that thou in thy life-time rcceivedst thy good 
 things. Bitter remembrance ! Well might the 
 heathen poets represent the unhappy spirits in the 
 shades below, as eagerly catching at the water of 
 forgetfulncss, yet unable to reach it. Your present 
 comforts will onlj* serve to give you a livelier sense 
 of your misery, as having tasted such degrees of 
 enjoyment ; and to indame the reckoning, as you 
 have misimproved those talents lodged in your 
 hands for better purposes. Surely, if these things 
 were believed, and seriously considered, the sinner 
 would have no more heart to rejoice in his pros- 
 perity, than a man would have to amuse himself 
 with the curiosities of a fine garden, through which 
 he was led to be broke upon the rack. 
 
 But I will enlarge no further on these things. 
 Would to God that the unaccountable stupidity of 
 men's minds, and their fatal attachment to the 
 pleasures and cares of the present life, did not 
 make it necessary to insist on them so frequently 
 and so copiously ! 
 
 IV. I proceed to the reflections which naturally 
 arise from hence, and shall only mention two. 
 
 1. How much reason have we to lament the folly 
 of mankind in neglecting the one thing needful. 
 
 If religion be indeed the truest wisdom, then 
 surely we have the justest reason to say, with Solo- 
 mon, that folly and madness is in men's hearts. Is 
 it the one thing needful ? Look on the conduct of 
 the generality of mankind, and you would imagine 
 they thought it the one thing needless ; the vainest 
 dream and t'le idlest amusement of the mind. God 
 is admonishing them by ordinances, and provi- 
 
 dences, sometimes by such as are most awful, to lay 
 it to heart ; he speaks once, yea twice, yea a mul- 
 titude of times, but man regards it not. They pro- 
 fess perhaps to believe all that I have been saying, 
 but act as if the contrary were self-evident ; they 
 will risk these souls, and this eternity, for a thing of 
 nought, for that for the sake of which they would 
 not risk so much as a hand, or a finger, or a joint, 
 no, nor perhaps a toy that adorns it. Surely this is 
 the wonder of angels, and perhaps of devils too, 
 unless the observation of so many ages may have 
 rendered it familiar to both. And can we, my 
 Christian brethren, behold such a scene with in- 
 difference? If some epidemical madness had seized 
 our country, or the places where we live, so that as 
 we went from one place to another, we should every 
 where meet v.ith lunatics, and see, among the rest, 
 some perhaps of the finest genius and improvements, 
 and in the most eminent stations in life, amusing 
 themselves with straws and bubbles, or wounding- 
 themselves and others ; surely were we ever so se- 
 cure from the danger of infection or assault, the 
 sight would cut us to the lieart. Surely a good- 
 natured man would hardly be able to go abroad, or 
 even be desirous to live, if it must be amongst so 
 many sad spectacles. Yet these poor creatures 
 might, notivithstanding this, be the children of God, 
 and the higher their phrenzy rose, the nearer miglit 
 their complete happiness be. But alas, the greater 
 part of mankind are seized with a worse kind of 
 madness, in which they are ruining their souls : 
 and can we behold it with indiU'erence ! The Lord 
 awaken our compassion, our prayers, and our en- 
 deavours, in dependence on divine grace, that we 
 may be instrumental in bringing them to their right 
 mind, and making them wise indeed, that is, wise 
 to salvation. 
 
 2. How necessary is it that we should seriously 
 inquire how this one thing needful is regarded by us ! 
 
 Let me entreat you to remember your own con- 
 cern in it, and inquire — Have I thought seriously 
 of it? — Have I seen the importance of it ? — Has it 
 lain with a due and an abiding weight on my mind? 
 — Has it l)rought me to Christ, that I might lay the 
 stress of these great eternal interests on him? — And 
 am I acting in the main of my life as one that has 
 these convictions ? — Am I willing in fact to give up 
 other things, my interests, my pleasures, my pas- 
 sions, to this ? — Am I conversing w ith God and \\ ith 
 man as one that believes these things, as one that 
 has deliberately chosen the better part, and is d*;- 
 tcrmined to abide by that clioice ? 
 
 Observ(! the answer which conscience returns to 
 these inquiries, and you will know your own part 
 in that more particular application, with which I 
 am to conclude my discourse. 
 
 1. Let me address those that arc entirely uncon- 
 cerned about the one thing needful. 
 
782 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Sirs, I liavc been statinfj the case at large, and 
 now I appeal to your consciences, Are these things 
 so, or arc tliey not ? God and your own hearts best 
 know for what the care of your soul is neglected ; 
 but be it what it w ill, the diflerence between one 
 grain of sand and another, is not great, when it 
 comes to be weighed against a talent of gold. 
 Wliatever it is, you had need to examine it care- 
 fully. You had need to view that commodity on 
 all sides, of which you do in effect say. For this 
 will I sell my soul, for this will I give up heaven, 
 and venture hell, be heaven and hell whatever they 
 may. In the name of God, Sirs, is this the part of 
 a man, of a rational creature ? To go on with your 
 eyes open towards a pit of eternal ruin, because 
 there are a few gay flowers in tlie way ! Or what 
 if you shut your eyes ? will that prevent your fall ? 
 It signifies little to say, I will not think of these 
 things, I will not consider them. God has said. In 
 the last days tliey shall consider it perfectly. The 
 revels of a drunken malefactor will not prevent nor 
 respite his execution. Pardon my plainness ; if it 
 were a fable, or a tale, I would endeavour to amuse 
 you with words ; but I cannot do it where your 
 souls are at stake. 
 
 2. I would apply to tliose who are convinced of 
 the importance of their souls, yet are inclined to 
 defer that care of them a little longer, which in tlic 
 general they see to be necessary. 
 
 I know, you that are young are under peculiar 
 temptations to do this ; tliough it is strange that 
 the death of so many of your companions should not 
 be an answer to some of the most specious and dan- 
 gerous of those temptations. Methinks, if there 
 were the least degree of uncertainty, the importance 
 is too weighty to put matters to the venture. But 
 here the uncertainty is great and apparent. You 
 must surely know that there are critical seasons of 
 life for managing the concerns of it, which are of 
 such a nature, that, if once lost, they may never re- 
 turn. Here is a critical season. Now is the ac- 
 cepted time, now is the day of salvation. To-day 
 if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts. 
 This language may not be spoken to-morrow. Talk 
 not of a more convenient season ; none can be more 
 convenient ; and that to which you would probably 
 refer it, is least of all so, — a dying time. You 
 would not choose then to have any important busi- 
 ness in hand ; and will you of choice refer the great- 
 est business of all to that languishing, hurrying, 
 amazing hour ? If a friend were tlien to come to 
 you witii the balance of an intricate account, or a 
 view of a title to an estate, you would shake your 
 fainting head, and lift up your pale trembling hand, 
 and say perhaps, with a feeble voice, " Alas ! is this 
 a time for these things ?" And is it a time for so 
 much greater things than these ? I wish you knew, 
 and would consider, into what a strait we that are 
 
 ministers are sometimes brought, when we are called 
 to the dying beds of those who have spent their lives 
 in the neglect of the one thing needful. On the one 
 hand we fear, lest if we palliate matters, and speak 
 smooth things, we shall betray and ruin their souls ; 
 and on the other, that if we use a becoming plain- 
 ness and seriousness in warning them of their dan- 
 ger, we shall quite overwhelm tliem, and liasten the 
 dying moment which is advancing by such swift 
 steps. O let me entreat you, for our sakes, and 
 much more for your own, that you do not drive us 
 to such sad extremities : but that, if you are con- 
 vinced, as I hope some of you may now be, that the 
 care of the soul is that needful tiling we have repre- 
 sented, let the conviction work, let it drive you im- 
 mediately to the throne of grace, that from thence 
 you may derive that wisdom and strength which 
 may direct you in all the intricacies which entangle 
 you, and animate you in the midst of diHiculty and 
 discouragement. 
 
 3. I would in the last place address myself to 
 those happy souls who have in good earnest attended 
 to tlie one thing needful. 
 
 I hope when you see how commonly it is neglect- 
 ed, neglected indeed by many, wiiose natural capa- 
 cities, improvements, and circumstances in life, 
 appear to you superior to your own, you will hum- 
 bly acknowledge, that it was distinguishing grace 
 that brought you into this happy state, and formed 
 you to this most necessary care. Bless the Lord 
 therefore who hath ffivcn you that counsel, in virtue 
 of which you can say that He is your portion. — Re- 
 joice in the thought that tlie great concern is secur- 
 ed ; as it is natural for us to do, when some important 
 affair is despatched which has long lain before us, 
 and which we have been inclined to put off from 
 one day to another, but have at length strenuously 
 and successfully attended. — Remember still to con- 
 tinue acting on those great principles which at first 
 determined your choice ; and seriously consider, 
 that those who desire their life may at last be (/iven 
 them /or a prei/, must continue on their guard, in 
 all stages of tiieir journey through a wilderness 
 where daily dangers are still surrounding them. 
 Having secured the great concern, make yourselves 
 easy as to others of smaller importance. You have 
 chosen the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, 
 otiicr things therefore sliail be added unto you ; and 
 if any which you desire should not be added, com- 
 fort yourselves with this thought, that you have the 
 good part which can never be taken away. And, 
 not to enlarge on these obvious hints, which must 
 so often occur, be very solicitous that others maybe 
 brougtit to a care about the one thing needful. If 
 it be needful for you, it is so for your children, your 
 friends, your servants. Let them therefore see your 
 concern in this respect for tliem, as well as for 
 yourselves. Let parents, especially, attend to this 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 783 
 
 exhortation, whose care for their offspring often 
 exceeds in other respects, and fails in this. Re- 
 member that your children may never live to enjoy 
 the effects of your labour and concern, to get them 
 estates and portions. The charges of their funerals 
 may perhaps be all their share of what you are so 
 anxiously careful to lay up for them. And oh ! 
 think what a sword would pierce through your very 
 heart, if you should stand by the corpse of a belov- 
 ed child with this reflection, " this poor creature 
 has done with life before it learnt its great business 
 in it, and is gone to eternity, which I have seldom 
 been warning it to prepare for, and which perhaps 
 it learnt of me to forget." 
 
 On the whole, may this grand care be awakened 
 in those by whom it has been hitherto neglected ; 
 may it be revived in each of our minds. And that 
 you may be encouraged to pursue it with greater 
 cheerfulness, let me conclude with this comfortable 
 thought, that in proportion to the necessity of the 
 case, is the provision which divine grace has made 
 for our assistance. If you are disposed to sit down 
 at Christ's feet, he will teach you by his word and 
 Spirit. If you commit this precious jewel, which is 
 your eternal all, into his hand, he will preserve it 
 unto that day, and will then produce it richly adorn- 
 ed, and gloriously improved to his own honour, and 
 to your everlasting joy. Amen. 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 SALVATION BY GRACE THROUGH FAITH. 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Church and Congregation of Protestant Dissenters at Rowcll, to whom the substance of these [two] 
 Sermons iras preached, and at whose desire they are published. 
 
 My dear brethren and friends, beloved in our common Lord, 
 
 When I first preached these plain Sermons to my own congregation, which I here offer to your perusal, 
 I was much surprised at the request which several of them made, that they might be printed : but I m as 
 yet more surprised, when after having delivered the substance of them in one discourse at Rowcll some 
 time after, you so unanimously and affectionately made that re()uest your own. I apprehend, that 
 though the many excellent treatises we have on this subject already, might excuse my backwardness to 
 comply with the first motion of this kind ; yet absolutely to have refused your repeated solicitation 
 might have appeared disrespectful to my good friends, and perhaps have looked like some unwillingness 
 to bear my testimony to this great and important doctrine, in an age in which the credit of many 
 evangelical truths seems to be fallen very low. 
 
 I am really sorry I have delayed this little service so long ; but it was chiefly owing to my desire of 
 finishing my Sermons on Regeneration, which indeed cost me more labour than I at first apprehended. 
 That seemed a business of such importance, that I knew not how to interrupt it : but as they are now 
 almost printed off, I send out these Discourses as a kind of supplement to them ; and therefore they are 
 printed in a form very fit to bind up with them. The delay is more excusable, as Salvation by Grace is 
 not a subject which grows out of date in a few months. This glorious doctrine has been the "joy of the 
 church in all ages on earth ; and it will be the song of all that have received it in truth throughout the 
 ages of eternity, and be pursued in the heavenly regions with ever-growing admiration and dcliglit. 
 
 I cannot conclude this short address, without congratulating you on the abundant goodness of God to 
 yon as a church, in bringing among you that worthy and excellent person,* under whose pastoral care 
 you are now so happily placed. I know, he is a faithful witness to the truths of the gospel, and rejoice 
 in that rich abundance of gifts and graces, which render hiiu so fit to state and improve them, in the 
 most advantageous, as well as most agreeable and delightful, manner. I hope, and believe, that the 
 grace he so humbly owns his dependence upon, will add happy success to his labours : and I heartily 
 pray, that you and neighbouring churches may long be happy in him; and that God, who has by such 
 variOHS and gracious interpositions in your favour expressed his paternal cnrc of you, may still delight 
 
 * The HcTerend Mr. Jonathan (siunderson. 
 
784 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 to dwell among you. May lie multiply you with men like a llock, daily adding to liis chiiroh among 
 you sui'ii as shall be saved ! May your souls continually ifjoice in his salvation! And may you ever 
 ualk worthy of the Lord, and prove hy the integrity and purity, the spirituality and usefulness, of your 
 whole behaviour, that this grace of (Jod v\hieh brings salvation has entered with power into your 
 hearts ; and that it is your care and delight, to improve if, as well as to hear of it ! To contiibute to 
 this blessed end, by this or any other attempt of cordial love and faithful respect, will be an unspeakable 
 pleasure to. 
 
 My dear friends, your very alTectionate servant, in the bonda of our common Lord, 
 Northampton, Sept. 1, 1741. P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Ephesians ii. 8. 
 
 For hy grace are ye saved throuyh faith ; and that 
 not of yourselves ; it is the gift of God. 
 
 You are often, my dear brethren and friends, hear- 
 ing of the duties of a religious life : and it cannot 
 but be a pleasure to every faithful minister of Christ 
 to observe, how willing, nay, how glad, you are to 
 hear of them ; and, w ith respect to many of you, 
 how ready you are to practise them. But I am now 
 coming to you with a renewed admonition on an- 
 other head, which is always to be taken in con- 
 nexion with the former; and which, I persuade 
 myself, will in that view be welcome to you all. I 
 am to inculcate it upon you, that when you have 
 done your utmost, how much soever that be, you 
 should still say, that you are unprofitable servants; 
 and endeavour to maintain a deep sense of it upon 
 your hearts, that, as the aposllc admonishes the 
 believing Ephesians in the words of the text, By 
 grace ye are saved through faith ; and that not of 
 yourselves ; it is the gift of God. 
 
 The apostle, in his preceding discourse, speaks 
 of the happy change which the gospel had made 
 in the state of these poor heathens. He freely 
 acknowledges on this occasion, that the Jews were 
 likewise in a very bad state, and if not entirely 
 sunk into the same enormities, yet were by nature 
 children of wratli, even as others. So that on the 
 whole, both were (as it might be expressed by an 
 easy and very proper figure) dead in trespasses and 
 sins, indisposed for any religious sensations and 
 actions, and far more odious to God, than a putrid 
 carcass is to men. But he adds, that God by his 
 grace had saved them; that his unmerited goodness 
 had begun their salvation, and having thus far 
 carried it on, would undoubtedly co.nplete it: and 
 that he might impress their minds the more deeply 
 with it, he repeats it again. By grace ye are saved. 
 So much was the apostle Paul concerned to incul- 
 cate a doctrine, which some are ready to look upon 
 as unnecessary, and others perhaps as dangerous. 
 But the apostle's authority is abundantly enough 
 
 to outweigh all that can be laid in the opposite 
 scale. And it w ill appear from what I have further 
 to oiler, that if it had not in this view so direct a 
 sanction from his express testimony, the conclusion 
 would follow by the justest deduction of argument 
 from princii^les so fundamental to the gospel, that 
 they cannot be denied without subverting its whole 
 superstructure. 
 
 And here, if I would treat the subject in its full 
 extent, I might consider what we mean by gospel- 
 salvation. But I content myself at present with 
 telling you in a few words, that it implies " a de- 
 liverance from that ruinous and calamitous condi- 
 tion, into \\ hieh, by our apostasy from God, we are 
 fallen;" and it also includes " our being restored to 
 the divine favour, and all the happy effects of it, 
 as extending, not only to time, but to eternity." 
 
 I mip;ht also consider at large the nature of that 
 faith to wliich the promises of salvation arc made. 
 But that is a subject you have heard so frequently 
 explained, that I shall only remind you of that 
 .general account of it, which has often been illus- 
 trated among you. " Saving faith," for of that we 
 are now speaking, " is such a persuasion, that 
 Christ is the great Messiah, the Son of God, and the 
 Saviour of men ; and such a desire and expectation 
 of the blessings he has procured under that charac- 
 ter ; as shall engage us cheerfully to commit our 
 souls to him in his appointed method of salvation, 
 witli a disposition cordially to devote ourselves to 
 his service in all the ways of holy and evangelical 
 obedience." The several branches of this definition 
 are to be taken in their connexion with each other; 
 and then there would be no dilTieuUy in showing, 
 from the whole tenor of Scripture, that, as nothing 
 short of this can be acceptable to God, so wherever 
 such a principle really is, the .''oul in which it is 
 found is entitled to all the blessings of the covenant 
 of grace, and has all the security for eternal happi- 
 ness which the promise and oath of God can give. 
 I might also easily show you, that this is such a 
 description of faith as efTcctually secures the in- 
 terest of practical religion, and guards against 
 every presumptuous hope, which may be formed 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 785 
 
 in a soul destitute of a principle of universal 
 holiness. 
 
 But waving the further prosecution of these pre- 
 liminaries to our subject, which we have occasion 
 so often to dilate upon, I shall make it my present 
 business, 
 
 I. To consider how we may be said to be saved 
 through faith. 
 
 II. How it appears, that in consequence of this,- 
 we are saved by grace. 
 
 III. I shall examine the force of the apostle's 
 additional argument, which is drawn from the con- 
 sideration, that faith is the gift of God. And then, 
 
 IV. I shall collect some inferences from the 
 whole. And may God write on our hearts, as with 
 the point of a diamond, them and the premises on 
 which they are founded ! 
 
 I. We are to consider in what sense it may be 
 said, that Christians are saved through faith. 
 
 Ye are, says the apostle, [atawanivoi'] the saved 
 ones, — the persons who have already received the 
 beginnings of salvation, and the certain pledge 
 of its complete accomplishment — \_dia rrig 7r«'?fwc] 
 through, or by means of, faith. 
 
 Now, I apprehend, we shall take in the full sense 
 of the apostle's assertion, and of all that is most ne- 
 cessary to believe and know ou this subject ; if we 
 acknowledge and remember, — that faith is abso- 
 lutely necessary in order to our salvation, so that 
 we cannot possibly be saved without it ; — and also, 
 that every one who hath this faith, shall undoubtedly 
 obtain salvation : — but yet, that after all, a Chris- 
 tian is not to ascribe his salvation to the merit of 
 his faith, but entirely to that of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, the great author and finisher of it. These 
 are three very obvious remarks : none is so weak 
 but he may easily understand them ; and yet I 
 speak very seriously when I say, they seem to me 
 to contain the sum of all that is most important in 
 the many large volumes which have been written on 
 the subject. 
 
 : 1. " Faith is so absolutely necessary to our sal- 
 vation, that we cannot possibly be saved without 
 it." 
 
 So our Lord tells us, in the most express and 
 emphatical forms of speech : If ye believe not that 
 I am he, ye shall die in your sins ; which most cer- 
 tainly implies the loss of salvation, and indeed 
 much more. And elsewhere the incarnate wisdom 
 and truth of God saith. He that believeth not, shall 
 be damned. He shall not, as the Baptist says, see 
 life : nay, as our Lord himself expresses it in the 
 strongest terms. He that believeth not, is condemned 
 already ; not only on account of all those other sins, 
 for which the wrath of God, to which he became 
 immediately obnoxious, .still abideth upon him ; 
 but for this additional reason of dreadful provoca- 
 tion, because he hath not believed in the venerable 
 3 E 
 
 and majestic name of the only-begotten Son of 
 God. 
 
 Without this faith, there is no knowledge that 
 will save a man ; though it should be the most 
 various and the most exact knowledge, of the most 
 divine and important subjects, which ever entered 
 into a human mind. So far is it from this, that one 
 need not scruple to say, a man might as reasonably 
 expect to be saved by skill in the mathematics, or 
 in music, as by skill in polemical divinity, though 
 it were in its most essential branches, if after all it 
 were no more than mere speculation. 
 
 And it is no less certain, that without this faith, 
 morality will not save a man ; be it ever so unex- 
 ceptionable, be it ever so exemplary. This is in- 
 deed much better than tlie former ; but if there bo 
 nothing more, it will be fatally ineffectual to the 
 great purpose which w e have now in view. I speak 
 not now, as you may easily imagine, of such a con- 
 tinual and uniform obedience to the divine will, as 
 perfectly answers the demands of God's original 
 law ; for no man ever has attained to this, or will 
 ever in fact attain to it in this world : but I speak, 
 of what the world generally calls morality, a free- 
 dom from gross impiety and scandalous vice, yea, 
 though attended witli tlie prac^tice of the humane 
 and the social virtues. This is indeed amiable and 
 honourable, .so far as it goes; and' will undoubt- 
 edly have its reward, in the pleasure of such con- 
 duct, in the esteem and love of mankind, and in 
 the possession of many temporal advantages and 
 blessings, which in tiie common course of provi- 
 dence are connected with it. But alas, it is after 
 all a very partial and imperfect thing: and as a 
 man may be temperate in himself, just, faithful, 
 and benevolent to men, without having any ap- 
 pearance of religion towards God, or making any 
 pretence to it ; so he may have some sense of God 
 upon his spirit, which one would think none but 
 an atheist could entirely avoid, while for the 
 neglect, or it may be the rejection, of the gospel, he 
 stands exposed to its sentence of condemnation. If 
 Christ be not regarded as the Rock on which we 
 build our hopes, the foundation is sandy, and will 
 be ruinous ; and if we do not receive Christ by such 
 a faith as I described above, we offer him a most 
 insolent affront, by pretending to put ourunsancti- 
 fied and rebellious hearts under his patronage. 
 
 We see then, that without this faith we cannot 
 possibly be saved. It is the counterpart of this 
 important truth which we now add, when we ob- 
 serve, 
 
 2. That " every one who hath this faith, shall 
 undoubtedly be saved." 
 
 You will here be sure to observe, that I say, 
 " Every one who hath this faith," meaning the 
 faith described above, which includes in it our de- 
 voting ourselves to Christ in the way of holy obe- 
 
78(i 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 . tliencc, as au essential part of it ; and, conse- 
 quently, there can be no reason to say, as some 
 have wildly represented the matter, "a believer 
 shall be saved, let him live as he will ;" which is 
 either a most notorious and mischievous falsehood, 
 or an express contradiction in terms. If the word 
 believer be supposed to signify one who merely 
 assents to the truth of the gospel in speculation, 
 nothing can be more false ; and the whole epistle 
 of James, to omit a thousand particular passages of 
 other scriptures, is a demonstration of the con- 
 trary : but if it be meant, as I suppose it generally 
 is, of a true believer, it is an express contradic- 
 tion ; and is as absurd as it would be to say. a 
 really good man shall be saved, though he should 
 at the same time be a very bad one. For no one 
 can, in the sense described above, which is the 
 Scriptural sense, be a true believer, but one who 
 wills to live in a holy manner ; since the same 
 operation of God upon the soul, ■which disposes it 
 to believe, sanctifies the will, and though freely, 
 yet eftectually, leads it into a prevailing determina- 
 tion to make the service of God the business of 
 life : or, in other words, it is plain from the whole 
 tenor of Scripture, that a saving faith is also a 
 sanctifying failh: but there cannot be a sanctifying 
 faith in an unholy heart ; neither can there be a 
 holy heart, where there is a wicked life ; for the 
 tree is known by its fruit: and when we speak of 
 the heart, we mean not merely the affections, but 
 the will, the determinations of which are indeed 
 the very actions of which we speak, so far as they 
 are properly ours. There cannot therefore be a 
 more insolent falsehood, than tiie pretence to holi- 
 ness of heart, where that of the life is w anting, or 
 to saving faith in the absence of both. There may 
 indeed be an error in the understanding as to some 
 precepts of Christ, or a false judgment as to some 
 circumstances attending ourselves ; and that may 
 produce some error in practice. There may be in- 
 stances in which the infirmity of human nature, and 
 the surprise or force of a temptation, may betray a 
 man into particular miscarriages, contrary to the 
 general bent and tenor of his heart and life ; but 
 there cannot possibly be, in the conduct of any true 
 believer, an habitual, allowed, and customary dis- 
 obedience to any one commandment of our blessed 
 Redeemer. 
 
 This you must first admit as a necessary prelimi- 
 nary ; and, when it is admitted, you may very 
 securely build upon it this great truth, that " who- 
 soever hath such a faith as this, sliall certainly be 
 saved." Whatever his former guilt may have been, 
 though ever so various, ever so long continued, ever 
 so aggravated ; though crimes had been committed, 
 from which he could never have been justified by 
 the law of Moses, but would have been doomed by 
 it to an infamous death ^^ithout mercy: yet, on 
 
 exerting such an act of faith in Christ, the believci 
 immediately stands a justified person before God, 
 previous to any good work.s of his own : yea, 
 though he should die before he have an opportunity 
 of performing any, in this case, (which, if ever it 
 happen, is by the way the only case in which good 
 works are not, according to the gospel covenant, 
 necessary to an actual admission into heaven,) an 
 t-:mniscient God calls the things that are not as if 
 they were, and accepts those fruits of holiness which 
 he discerned in their root, or their bud, though he 
 did not aliord time for their coming to maturity. 
 And if life be spared, the believer continuing such, 
 continues in a state of favour and acceptance with 
 God, though there may be remaining imperfections 
 in him ; and though he may see reason to complain, 
 that he cannot do the things which he would, but 
 that the law in his meml)ers struggles against the 
 law of his mind, yet he shall linally be saved ; 
 whatever difiiculties are to be broken through, and 
 how long soever his trials may continue : and his 
 salvation as a believer is as certain, from the whole 
 current of the word of God, as the condemnation of 
 the unbeliever ; which we proved above. He that 
 believeth on the Son of God hath everlasting life ; 
 he hath it already in its beginnings and earnests, 
 and be shall ere long rise to the complete possession 
 of it. For Chiist gives unto his sheep eternal life, 
 and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck 
 them out of his hand. Bat it is of importance that 
 I add, 
 
 3. That " after all, a believer is not to ascribe his 
 salvation to the merit and excellency of this faith 
 itself, but entirely to the merit and righteousness 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the free grace of God, 
 as manifested in it." 
 
 We know it is the constant doctrine of the New 
 Testament, that God hath made us accepted in the 
 Beloved ; and that of him we are in Christ Jesus, 
 who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteous- 
 ness, and sanctification, and redemption: so that 
 we are justified freely by his grace, through the 
 redemption that is in him. And if we should pre- 
 tend to say, that we are accepted of God for faitb, 
 as the meritorious cause of that acceptance, we 
 must contradict the whole course of the apostle 
 Paul's argument, especially in the fourth chapter 
 of his epistle to the Romans, where he strongly 
 contends that Abraham was not justified by works, 
 because if he were he would have something to 
 glory in before God. Now if he had been justified 
 by faith as his own meritorious act, there would 
 have been as much room for him to have gloried in 
 that, as in any work, whether of ceremonial or moral 
 obedience. — And in the same epistle he declares 
 again, where he is speaking of the salvation of 
 God's chosen remnant, that if it be of works, then 
 it is no more grace ; otherwise work is no more 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS, 
 
 ?87 
 
 work : the meaning of which plainly is, that no 
 man can at once be justified by grace and by 
 works : and on the same principles we may also 
 say, no man can be justified by the merit of faith, 
 and yet by grace. If therefore it evidently appear 
 from the text, and our further reasonings upon it, 
 that our justification and acceptance with God is 
 to be ascribed to grace, all pretence of merit in the 
 act of believing must of course be given up. 
 
 This will indeed further appear, if we consider 
 what it is that faith does in order to our being jus- 
 tified. You very well know, it is represented in 
 Scripture as receiving Christ. To as many as re- 
 ceived him, to them gave he power (or privilege) 
 to become the sons of God, even to them that be- 
 lieve in his name. Now it must be ilagrantly ab- 
 surd to talk of resting upon an act, whereby we do 
 indeed receive and rest upon another. And there- 
 fore however inaccurately some may have expressed 
 themselves on this head, I cannot suppose that any 
 wise and considerate Christian ever meant to assert 
 the contrary to what I am now endeavouring to 
 prove. We do indeed find the apostle speaking of 
 faith, as imputed for righteousness ; but it seems 
 to me, that the most natural sense of that expres- 
 sion may be fixed, and the propriety of it may be 
 admitted, upon the principles I have now been 
 laying down. 
 
 All manner of imputation seems to be a metaphor 
 taken from books of account between creditor and 
 debtor.* To impute any act of sin, or of obedience, 
 is therefore properly no other than to set it down to 
 his account. The great God of heaven and earth 
 is represented in Scripture, with humble condescen- 
 sion to our manner of acting and conceiving of 
 things, as keeping a most exact book of records and 
 accounts, in which those things are registered con- 
 cerning every one of us which he will bring into 
 that solemn review and survey, by which our charac- 
 ters and states shall finally be determined. And 
 as the most exact and perfect obedience is a debt 
 which wc owe him, as our great Creator, Benefactor, 
 and Governor ; so, on the breach of his law, we owe 
 him some proper satisfaction for it. In this view 
 we are all charged as debtors, poor miserable in- 
 solvent debtors, in the book of God : innumerable 
 sins are imputed, or set down to our account : and 
 were things to go on in this course, we should ere 
 long be arrested by the divine justice, and being 
 found incapable of payment, should be cast info 
 the prison of hell, to come out no more. But God, 
 in pity to this our calamitous state, has found out 
 a surety and a ransom for us, and has provided a 
 satisfaction in the obedience and sufferings of his 
 Son ; which is what we mean by the righteousness of 
 
 * From mercantile affairs the metaphor is sometimes applied to 
 indicia! ; as crimes to he accounted for are also Mmelimes called delils: 
 but when the msUer is well understood in one view, it is easv toaiiolv 
 it to the other. ' ' 
 
 3 E 2 
 
 Christ, or his active and passive obedience. It is with 
 a gracious regard to this, to express his high com- 
 placency in it, and (if I may so speak) liis pleasing 
 remembrance of it, that all who are finally justified 
 and saved, meet with divine acceptance and favour: 
 or, to pursue the metaphor opened above, the right- 
 eousness of Christ is in the book of God imputed, 
 or set down, to their account, as that by which the 
 debt is balanced, and they are entitled to such 
 favours as righteous persons might expect from 
 God. But then, it is an invariable rule in the 
 divine proceedings, that this righteousness, or this 
 atonement and satisfaction, of Christ, (for I think it 
 matters but little by which of these names it shall 
 be called,) be a means of delivering those, and only 
 those, that believe. Pursuant therefore to the 
 aforesaid metaphor, when any particular person 
 believes, this is set down to his account, as a most 
 important article, or as a memorandum (if I may so 
 express it) in the book of God's remembrance, that 
 such a one is now actually become a believer, and 
 therefore is now entitled to justification and life by 
 Christ. In this sense, liis faith is imputed for 
 righteousness. Yet it is not regarded by God, as the 
 grand consideration which balances the account, or 
 indeed as paying any of the former debt, which it 
 is impossible it should ; but only as that which, 
 according to the gracious constitution of the gospel, 
 gives a man a claim to that which Christ has paid, 
 and which God has grat iously allowed as a valua- 
 ble consideration, in regard to which he may ho- 
 nourably pardon and accept all who shall apply to 
 him in his appointed way, or in the way of humble 
 believing, as faith was described above. 
 
 This appears to me a just and easy view of the 
 gospel doctrine on this head ; and it is so important 
 distinctly to understand it, that I hope you will 
 excuse my having represented it in so many words. 
 And this is, on the whole, the sense in which we 
 may be said to be saved through faith. — None can 
 be saved without it, and every one who has it is 
 entitled to salvation ; but not in virtue of the merit 
 and excellency of faith itself, but entirely for the 
 sake of what Christ has done and sufl'ered ; or, in 
 other words, by the imputation of his perfect right- 
 eousness, the merit of which is graciously applied 
 to this or that particular person upon his believing: 
 so that upon this he is justified ; and by the general 
 tenor of tiie gospel, is to be looked on as a righteous 
 |)ersoii ; or as one, who shall on the whole be treated 
 as such, and shall ere long be publicly declared 
 righteous before the assembled world, and be freed 
 from all the remainders of that penalty which sin 
 has brought upon us: and though, for wise and 
 good reasons, he be for a while continued under 
 some of them, the time of that continuance is so 
 short, and his succeeding hap|)iness so lasting, that 
 the former being as it were swallowed up by the 
 
788 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 latter in tlie all-conipiclienilin^ views of God, lie is 
 spoken of by him as if his justilieation and salva- 
 tion were already complete: Ye are saved through 
 faith. — lint having stated this, the method I i)ro- 
 posed leads me, 
 
 II. To show, that in consequence of our being 
 thus saved through faith, we may properly be .said 
 to be saved by grace. 
 
 Now the connexion between these will appear 
 very evident, if we consider, — that faith cannot 
 make any atonement to the offended justice of God, 
 so as to give us any legal claim even to the pardon 
 of our sins upon tiie account of it : — much less can 
 it confer any obligation upon God to bestow on us 
 eternal blessedness :— nor would tliere indeed have 
 been any room to mention faith in this w hole affair, 
 if God liad not contrived such a method of salva- 
 tion, and done that to effect it which none but him- 
 self could have done. 
 
 I. " Faith cannot make any atonement to the 
 offended justice of God, so as to give us any legal 
 claim even to the pardon of our sins upon the 
 account of it ;" so tliat if we are saved through 
 faith, we must in tliis view acknowledge it to be by 
 grace. 
 
 The law of so wise, so great, and so venerable a 
 sovereign, as the blessed God is, must of course 
 suppose some awful sanctions, some solemn denun- 
 ciations of wrath and vengeance on those who pre- 
 sumptuously transgress it. And it is certainly the 
 part of God, as a wise, holy, and gracious legisla- 
 tor, to maintain its honour when it has been violated, 
 and not to treat an offending creature as innocent 
 and righteous, without some provision made for the 
 satisfaction of his injured justice. In the demand 
 of which satisfaction, God does not express any 
 thing of a sanguinary and revengeful disposition ; 
 far be so blasphemous a thought from us ! but he 
 displays a steady regard to that order, wliich as the 
 great Sovereign it becomes him, for the benefit of 
 his subjects, as well as for the glory of his own 
 name and government, to preserve in the moral 
 world, i. c. among his reasonable creatures. Some 
 ample and honourable amends must therefore be 
 made, in order to the discharge of a guilty and con- 
 demned criminal. And is faith such an amends ? 
 Take it in its utmost extent, as an assent to what- 
 ever he proposes, and a submission to whatever he 
 demands, to the very utmost of our capacity, this in 
 our present circumstances is but our duty, and 
 would have been so had we never offended him : 
 and the performance of it, with whatever readiness, 
 exactness, and constancy, cannot possibly atone for 
 the violation of it in times past ; as the payment of 
 what for the future becomes due to any creditor, 
 cannot discharge a debt formerly contracted, and 
 remaining unbalanced upon account. Therefore it 
 is, that we read of Clirist's being made a sin-offer- 
 
 ing for US, though he himself knew no sin, that we 
 might be made the righteousness of God in him ; 
 I. e. that we might be accepted of God as righteous, 
 being considered as by faith united to him, and in- 
 terested in his righteousness and grace. In testi- 
 mony of which, God expressly requires, that every 
 sinner sliould sue out his pardon in Christ's name, 
 and should present himself before him as one that 
 has obtained redemption through Christ's blood, 
 and is accepted in the Beloved, who of God is made 
 unto us righteousness. A scheme utterly inconsist- 
 ent with that of our being justified and saved by 
 any merit or excellence in faith, considered as an 
 act of atonement made by us, by which the guilt of 
 our offences is cancelled, and our pardon bought by 
 us. It is yet more apparent, 
 
 2. That " faith can confer no obligation upon 
 God to bestow on us eternal blessedness ;" in 
 which view also our salvation through it must ap- 
 pear to be by grace. 
 
 That eternal blessedness is designed for every 
 believing soul, is, through the divine goodness, as 
 apparent as that faith itself is ever required in 
 Scripture. But can we say of eternal life, that it is 
 the wages of faith? I much question, whether it 
 could have been claimed as wages due to us on ac- 
 count of our obedience, had that obedience been 
 perfect in its kind and degree. Nor do I think it 
 could with any confidence have been expected, 
 unless God had been pleased l)y a gracious cove- 
 nant to promise it : otherwise, ail that the complet- 
 est ol)edience could have claimed, would only have 
 been favour continued, or at most favour increas- 
 ing, during the time in which we continued to 
 beliave ourselves well. Much less then can we 
 imagine, that when we had once broken the law of 
 God, faith, though for the future attended with the 
 most perfect ellicacy, and productive of the most 
 steady course of obedience in all after-instances, 
 could give us any such claim. Least of all, then, 
 can we have any room to pretend it, on account of 
 a faith which operates in so imperfect a manner, 
 and produces a holiness so sadly defective in many 
 instances, as we must acknowledge our own to be. 
 That we should be admitted into the glorious pre- 
 sence of God, and be fixed in a state of immutable 
 security and felicity, where sin and sorrow shall no 
 more invade us, but where God will appoint for us 
 salvation itself for walls and bulwarks, is so glori- 
 ous a triumph of the divine goodness ; that the soul 
 which knows itself, and attentively looks on this far 
 more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, is 
 astonished and humbled in the views of it, and finds 
 it no small stretch of faith to be able to believe, 
 that God does indeed intend it for so sinful a 
 creature : so far is the believer from arrogating any 
 thing of this kind to himself, as if his own faith had 
 any degree of merit or excellence proportionable to 
 
it. But we must observe once more, to complete 
 the argument, 
 
 3. That " there had been no room to mention 
 faith at all in this affair, had not God graciously con- 
 trived such a method of salvation, and done that to 
 effect it which none but himself could do." 
 
 Faith receives our Lord Jesus Christ ; it is its 
 great office and its great glory to do it. But how 
 could it have received him, unless he had been 
 given ? and how could he have been given in this 
 view, but by the appointment of the Father, in con- 
 currence with his own free and most gracious con- 
 sent ? — Faith apprehends and submits to the gospel 
 plan of salvation by the obedience and sufferings of 
 the Son of God ; yea, it not only submits to it, but 
 rejoices and glories in it. But who could have 
 exhibited, who could have contrived, who could 
 have executed, such a plan, unless it had been 
 formed and determined in the counsels of eternal 
 love ? — Admit faith to be ever so voluntary, and, so 
 far as is possible to a creature, ever so independent, 
 an act, can we any of us say, that there was so much 
 merit and excellency in that act, or in any of its 
 subsequent fruits, that God upon the foresight of it 
 should say, "These creatures, guilty and con- 
 demned as they appear, will he so ready to receive 
 the intimations of my will, that they will fully de- 
 serve that I should save them at any rate ; they w ill 
 deserve, even that my Son should become incarnate, 
 and die as a sacrifice, to make way for the ir happi- 
 ness." Can any of you, Sirs, imagine this to have 
 been the case ? Or can you hear it even supposed, 
 without finding something shocking in the very re- 
 presentation of it ! The blessed Paul, I am sure, 
 had very different views, when he said, God hath 
 predestinated us to the adoption of children by 
 Jesus Christ unto himself, according to the good 
 pleasure of his will, to the praise of the glory of his 
 grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the 
 Beloved. And the apostle John had other notions of 
 it, when he said, full as his gracious heart h as of the 
 most lively sentiments of gratitude and zeal, Herein 
 is love, not that we loved God, hut that he loved us, 
 and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 
 
 These arguments would prove, that our salvation 
 through faith is by grace, even though it could not 
 be added, that this faith is the gift of God. How 
 much more convincing then must the conclusion he, 
 when that consideration is added to the rest ! 
 
 But as the illustration of this, which was the 
 third general we mentioned, will require more time 
 than can properly be allowed to the remainder of 
 this Discourse, I will reserve it (o another ; and con- 
 clude for the present with exhorting you seriously 
 to examine, whether you have this principle of faith 
 in your hearts, without which your salvation is, in 
 present circumstances, an impossible thing, and 
 with which, it is inviolably secure. 
 
 SERMONS. 789 
 
 It is a melancholy, but most obvious, truth, that 
 all men have not faith. There are thousands and 
 ten thousands under the gospel, with regard to 
 whom its ministers have reason to complain, Who 
 hath believed our report, and to whom hath the arm 
 of the Lord been revealed? On whom has his 
 power been so exerted, as to conquer the natural 
 incredulity and obstinacy of their hearts '. Are you, 
 Sirs, of that number, or of the number of those, who, 
 as the Scripture expresses it, have believed through 
 grace? It is the question on which your eternal 
 state will turn at last, and therefore you would do 
 well to examine it now. And I would beseech you 
 to endeavour to trace it — in its production,— and in its 
 effects ; or, in other words, to inquire, — how it has 
 been introduced into your minds, — and how it has 
 wrought there. — You may surely discover it in the 
 one or in the other, if it be your prevailing charac- 
 ter ; and I hope many of you will be able to discover 
 it ia both. 
 
 (1.) Can you trace faith "in its production and 
 advance in your souls ?" 
 
 Do you recollect any time in which you had no 
 thoughts of the Lord Jesus Christ, and no workings 
 of all'ection towards him .' And has there been any 
 alteration in your minds in this respect ? All true 
 faith in Christ is founded on a conviction of sin, 
 and of the misery to which you are exposed by it. 
 Have you indeed been brought to this conviction ? 
 Have you heard, and (if I may be allowed the ex- 
 pression) have you felt, yourselves condemned by 
 the sentence of a righteous, a holy, yea, of a merci- 
 ful, God ? And have you by that apprehension been 
 stirred up to cry for pardon and deliverance '. You 
 have heard of Christ under the character of a 
 Saviour ; but I put it to your consciences, have 
 you seriously viewed him under that character? 
 and, from a full persuasion of his correspondency, 
 when considered in this view, to all the necessities 
 of your case, and all the exigences of j'our souls, 
 have you entered into any treaty wilh him? He^ 
 collect it seriously. Have you ever presented your- 
 selves before God, with a humble and cordial regard 
 to Christ ? And do you know what it is, secretly 
 and sincerely to repose your souls upon the merit 
 of his obedience, and the elTicacy of his blood, with 
 humble acknowledgment of your own guilt, with 
 entire resignation of your own righteousness, as 
 utterly un\^ortlly of being mentioned before God^ 
 and with a cordial and joyful resolution to devote 
 yourselves to his service as long as you have any 
 being, and through time and eternity to testify youv 
 gratitude by a constant series of obedience ? 
 
 If you can trace such a process of thought and ex- 
 perience as this, you have great reason to conclude 
 that you experimentally know what faith is; and 
 that through faith you are in the way to salvation. 
 Yet it is always to be remembered, that faith is to 
 
790 
 
 SERAIONS. 
 
 be slioMU by its works. Give nie leave, therefore, 
 fuitiicr to in(|uirc, 
 
 (2.) Wlictlier jou can trace " the p^enuine cflfects 
 of it in your hearts and lives !" 
 
 You believe in Christ : but has that faitli in him 
 produced a continued and habitual intercourse with 
 him ? I speak not of an intercourse absolutely un- 
 interrupted ; for that the present state of human 
 life w ill not admit. But has it p'oduced frc(|uently 
 repeated and direct acts of application to him, and 
 converse with him ? One can hardly imagine, how 
 it is possible for a true believer to suffer these to be 
 long and often intermitted ; especially to such a de- 
 gree, that days, and w eeks, and months should pass, 
 as if all the business between Christ and his soul w ere 
 (]uite finished, and he and his Lord were parted by 
 consent, till death, or some very urgent and extra- 
 ordinary circumstance, renewed the interviews be- 
 tween them. I would ask further, Has this faith to 
 which you pretend, produced a resemblance to 
 Christ's example, and an obedience to his precepts, 
 in the course of your lives ? You know, that true 
 faith is operative; and you know, in the general, 
 the genius and design of Christianity. I would de- 
 mand of your consciences, how far you comply with 
 it ? Is your temper and conduct in the main, such 
 as you well know our Lord intended tliat the tem- 
 per and conduct of his people should be ? Is it de- 
 vout and spiritual, just and charitable, sober and 
 temperate, humble and cautious ? Is religion your 
 care ? and doyou maintain an habitual watchfulness 
 over yourselves, that your behaviour may be agree- 
 able and honourable to your profession ? — One ■ 
 more, are you ardently pursuing greater attain- 
 ments in the Cliristian temper and life, so that you 
 may be spoken of as hungering and thirsting after 
 righteousness ? 
 
 If you can answer such inquiries as these in the 
 affirmative, you have a great deal of reason to hope 
 that faith is yours, and salvation is yours. But if 
 you cannot so answer them, a confident assurance 
 that you shall be saved is so far from being faith, 
 that it is presumption and folly ; and, far from being 
 any security to you, will only prove adding sin to 
 sin. That confidence, by whatever name you may 
 affect to call it, is indeed unbelief ; unbelief of 
 God's thrcatenings, while it vainly pretends to trust 
 his promises : for he hath not more expressly said, 
 that He who believeth on the Son, hath eternal life ; 
 than he has added, that He who is disobedient to 
 the Son, shall not see life. While sin reigns in 
 your life, and thereby appears to reign in your 
 heart, did you pretend a revelation from heaven as 
 to the truth of your faith, every wise man would 
 conclude that pretended revelation was a delusion ; 
 and that how solemnly soever it might be ascribed 
 to the Spirit of truth and holiness, it really pro- 
 ceeded from the father of lies. 
 
 Excuse the plainness, with which fidelity to God 
 and to you obliges me to speak on this head ; and 
 be assured, that it proceeds from a real concern to 
 secure the honour of that glorious doctrine of sal- 
 vation by grace, which I have now been labouring 
 to establish, and the demonstration and improve- 
 ment of which I shall further pursue in the ensuing 
 Discourse. 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 SALVATION BY GRACE THROUGH FAITH. 
 Ephes. ii. 8. 
 
 For hy (/race are ye saved through faith ; and that 
 not of yourselves ; it is the gift of God. 
 
 In the works of nature, many of those things which 
 to a superficial eye may appear as defects, will, on 
 a careful inquiry, be found to be marks of consum- 
 mate wisdom and kind contrivance. And on the 
 same principle, I confess, I have often thought 
 there is reason to be thankful for the very inaccu- 
 racies of Scripture. The haste in which the apostle 
 Paul was, by the multiplicity of his affairs, obliged 
 to write, has given us an opportunity of viewing 
 more of his heart in his epistles than we might per- 
 haps have seen, if he had frequently reviewed and 
 corrected them. Those parentheses, in particular, 
 and those repetitions, which render the style less 
 elegant, and the sense sometimes less conspicuous, 
 do nevertheless show to greater advantage how 
 deeply those thoughts were impressed upon his 
 mind, which he introduces in such a manner. And 
 of this, the words which I have now been reading 
 are an instance. In the course of his preceding 
 argument, a few verses before, while he is telling 
 the Ephesians that God, who is rich in mercy, for 
 his great love wherewith he loved them, even w'hen 
 they were dead in sins, had quickened them toge- 
 ther with Christ ; he adds, by way of parenthesis, 
 By grace ye are saved. And when he goes on to 
 say, they were raised up together, and made to sit 
 together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus, he fur- 
 ther tells them, that this was with an intention That 
 in the ages to come God might show the exceeding 
 riches of his grace, in his kindness towards us, 
 through Christ Jesus. Nay, his heart was so full of 
 the subject of grace, free and astonishing grace, 
 that, if all this was not enough, by a most glorious 
 and edifying tautology, (if I may be allowed so to 
 speak,) he inserts the words of my text. By grace 
 are ye saved through faith ; and that not of your- 
 selves ; it is the gift of God. 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 791 
 
 I have already shown you from these words, in 
 what sense w e may be said to be saved through 
 faith : — and I have also proved, that in consequence 
 of this it is evident we must be saved by grace ; 
 since faith being incapable of satisfying the de- 
 mands of God's injured justice, can much less merit 
 such a recompence as eternal life ; nor can it indeed 
 have any efficacy, or any place at all in this affair, 
 otherwise than by God's free constitution and 
 gracious appointment. — I then concluded with ob- 
 serving, that this argument would have a convincing 
 force, even though faith were ever so entirely an 
 act of our own ; or that we had no more support or 
 assistance from God in forming and exerting it, than 
 we have in any of the common actions of natural 
 life. But I am now to show, that even this is not 
 the case ; but, that a new proof of our being saved 
 by grace arises from considering, 
 
 III. The argument which the apostle suggests in 
 the close of the text, that even this faith is not of 
 ourselves, but it is the gift of God. 
 
 I am sensible that some endeavour to invalidate 
 and supersede all this part of the argumer.t, by 
 giving another turn to this last clause, referring it 
 in general 'o our salvation by faith ; as if it had 
 been said, " Our being thus saved by grace tlirough 
 faitli, (as I have just now said,) is not of ourselves, 
 but it is the gift of God." But I apprehend, that an 
 impartial reader would not be willing to allow of 
 this interpretation, which makes the latter clause a 
 mere repetition of what was said before, and a repe- 
 tition of it in less proper and expressive words. 
 None could imagine, that our being saved through 
 faith was of ourselves ; or that we ever could our- 
 selves constitute and appoint such a way of salva- 
 tion, which was indeed fixed so long before we had 
 
 j a being. But faith being really our own act, it was 
 highly pertinent to observe, that the excellency of 
 this act is not to be arrogated to ourselves, but is to 
 ])e ascribed to God. All that are acquainted with 
 the genius of the original, must acknowledge this is 
 a construction which it will very fairly admit. And 
 we shall prove in the process of this argument, that 
 other scriptures expressly declare the truth, which 
 this interpretation makes to be the meaning of the 
 
 j words. 
 
 Faith may be called the gift of God,— as it is 
 God that reveals the great objecls of faith,— that 
 brings the mind to attend to them,— that conquers 
 our natural aversion to the go.qpel method of salva- 
 tion, and so implants faith in the soul ; — and also as 
 it is he, that carries it on to more perfect degrees, 
 and improves its vigour and activity. 
 
 1. Faith may be called the gift of God, "as it is 
 God who reveals the great objects of faith." 
 
 Human reason is but weak and imperfect, and 
 has indeed interwoven the traces of its own weak- 
 ness, with many of the fairest monuments of its 
 
 strength. Even in its most advanced state, among 
 the most learned and polite nations of antiquity, it 
 is deplorably evident, how far it was from discover- 
 ing the several branches of natural religion in its 
 purity, extent, and order. And to speak freely, it 
 shone more brightly in almost every otlier view, 
 than in that which is its noblest end ; I mean, what 
 relates to God, and immortality. It has indeed 
 produced many admirable poems, and composed 
 many moving orations : it has woven many exqui- 
 site threads of argument, with which the subtilest 
 disputants have entangled each other, and have 
 often entangled themselves : and much more use- 
 ful it has been, in adorning the face of the earth, 
 in subduing the sea, in managing the winds, and 
 meting out the heavens. But this rich vein of 
 knowledge, this mine of holy and divine treasure, 
 lies too deep for human discovery.- — If any ask, 
 where shall this wisdom be found, and where is the 
 place of this understanding ? It must be granted, 
 that it is a path, which the vulture's eye hath not 
 seen : man knoweth not the price thereof, neither is 
 it found in the land of the living. The depth of 
 human science says. It is not in me: and the sea, 
 with all the most improved countries that lie upon 
 it, must say. It is not with me : for eye hath not 
 seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the 
 heart of man, the things which God hath prepared 
 for them that love him. There were no principles 
 on which to proceed, in the investigation of this 
 important knowledge : none could ever have learn- 
 ed, that God had formed counsels of mercy and 
 peace towards apostate creatures : none could ever, 
 on natural principles, have discovered the very 
 existence of the Son, and the Spirit: how much 
 less then could they have known, or imagined, 
 that the Son of God should have undertaken to re- 
 deem us with his own precious blood ; and the 
 Spirit be sent to manage affairs, as the great agent 
 of the Redeemer's kingdom ; in consequence of 
 whose gracious acts and influences the soul should 
 be savingly renewed and transformed, and then 
 carried on with a growing pace in the way to 
 heaven, till it was received to the separate state of 
 holy and triumphant spirits at death, and to com- 
 plete glory at the resurrection of the dead ! All 
 the men upon earth could never by their own 
 natural sagacity have discovered any of these par- 
 ticulars ; how much less then could the whole sys- 
 tem have been discovered ! — But God himself has 
 gratMOusly revealed them by his Spirit : and as he 
 was pleased miraculously to interpose to give this 
 revelation to the world ; so he has interposed by 
 remarkable providences to send to us such clear 
 noticqs of it ; and to send these notices so early too, 
 as to throw the prejudice of education among us 
 this way, rather than the contrary. And consider- 
 ing how powerful those prejudices are, and how 
 
792 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 many liave fallen into i iiin by them, (bis will appear 
 no small matter to a considerate person : especially 
 when he surveys the state of the world in general, 
 and considers how few nations and countries there 
 are, in which this is the case; and in what various 
 forms of most pernicious and destructive errors the 
 ffenerality of mankind are trained up from their 
 tendercst infancy. — I would conclude this head with 
 observini;, that " whatever particular advantages 
 we have enjoyed, they arc all to be trace<l up to the 
 distinguishing goodness of (lod to us." If wise 
 and pious parents, if skilful, zealous, and faithful 
 ministers, have been the instruments of working 
 faith in our souls, this also comcth forth from the 
 Lord of hosts ; who taught their minds to conceive, 
 and their lips to speak, and who opened our 
 hearts to receive instruction. And this leads me to 
 add, 
 
 2. That as God reveals the great objects of faith, 
 so " it is he also, that inclines the mind to attend 
 to them ;" on which account faith may be further 
 said to be the gift of God. 
 
 The great objects of faith are, and by their nature 
 must be, to us in\isible ; while those of sense strike 
 so strongly on the mind, that it is no wonder we 
 are apt often to forget the other. And when a man 
 is conscious to himself, that the first recollection 
 and acquaintance with them must be painful, and 
 must be attended with remorse and fear, how neces- 
 sary soever that pain may be, it is too natural to 
 draw back from it. And we may easily conceive 
 that Satan, the great enemy of men's eternal hap- 
 piness, will exert all his artifices, to prejudice them 
 against it, and to divert tlicm from it. Accordingly 
 I make no doubt, but that many of you, and espe- 
 cially young persons, have experienced this. You 
 have found, that when you first began to be sensible 
 you were in a lost and miserable state ; when you 
 began first to hearken to the tidings of deliverance 
 by Christ, and to intiiiire into the way of salvation 
 exhibited in the gospel; many circumstances arose 
 to take oil" your attention from them. You found 
 Satan endeavouring to steal away the good seed out 
 of your hearts, lest you should believe and be saved , 
 and joining the eflbrts of various of his instruments, 
 to allure or to terrify you from religion. To what 
 then will you ascribe it, that you have been able to 
 break through all these snares ? To what will you 
 ascribe it, that when you had perhaps laboured to 
 stifle convictions in your own hearts, they have re- 
 turned upon you with greater power than before? 
 and though you have endeavoured all you could to 
 shift them olf, yet you have found them every where 
 pursuing you ; keeping your eyes from sleep during 
 the watches of the night, or breaking in upon you 
 in the morning with the returning light ; or follow- 
 ing you, perhaps, into those scenes of business, or 
 of vain conversation, to which you have fled as a 
 
 refuge from them ? You must undoubtedly ascribe 
 it to the God of the spirits of all flesh, that you have 
 thus been taught to consider your ways ; and that 
 your spirits have been so deeply impressed w ith 
 concerns, which multitudes whom the world reckons 
 among the wisest of mankind, are entirely thought- 
 less about, and which perhaps you yourselves were 
 once among the lirst to despise. 
 
 3. Faith may be further called the gift of God, as 
 " it is he that conquers the natural aversion which 
 there is in men's hearts to the gospel method of sal- 
 vation, when it comes to be understood and appre- 
 hended." 
 
 That method is so wise, so rational, and so gra- 
 cious, that one would imagine every reasonable 
 creature should embrace it with delight. Yet the 
 degenerate heart of man draws its strongest objec- 
 tions against it, from those things which are really 
 its greatest glory. 
 
 It is the way of humility, and of holiness ; and a 
 haughty and licentious heart rises against it, in 
 each of these views. To be stripped of all the pride 
 of human nature, to stand guilty and helpless be- 
 fore God, and, in an entire renunciation of all self- 
 dependence, to seek righteousness and strength in 
 another, is, to spirits naturally so arrogant as ours, 
 a hard saying scarcely to be borne : to give up our 
 own wills to be checked and controlled in all things 
 by the divine authority, to engage in an habitual 
 course of self-denial, to crucify the flesh with its 
 affections and lusts, is hard indeed. No wonder, 
 therefore, if we arc taught in Scripture to acknow- 
 ledge the agency and interposition of a divine hand, 
 when this is wrought in us ; when we not only feel 
 some tendency of soul towards it, some transient 
 and ineffectual purpose, but when a permanent 
 principle of this kind is implanted in our hearts, so 
 that our lives are governed by it. Hence the Scrip- 
 ture speaks of those, to whom it is given, not merely 
 to hear of Christ, but to believe in him ; and pathe- 
 tically describes the exceeding greatness of his 
 power to US-ward who believe, as an energy of 
 mighty power, like that which wrought in Christ 
 when God raised him from the dead. When he lay 
 a cold corpse in the grave, his blood drained out, 
 and his side pierced to the very heart, think of that 
 mighty energy which then reanimated your Lord ; 
 and you see an emblem of that, which raises us to a 
 divine life, and enables us to act that life, in faith 
 on a crucified and a risen Redeemer. Thus, as it is 
 said in one place, that God gave to the Gentiles re- 
 pentance unto life ; it is also said in another, that 
 he purified their hearts by faith ; plainly implying, 
 that there is in both an interposition of divine 
 power. Now certainly if he implants this principle 
 in our hearts, that salvation which he has connected 
 with it must be entirely of grace: which will further 
 appear, if we consider. 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 793 
 
 4. That " it is God who carries on this blessed 
 •vvork, and maintains this divine principle." 
 
 It is through much tribulation and danger, through 
 much opposition and difliculty, that the Christian 
 must enter into the kingdom of God. When he 
 begins to set sail heaven-ward, the prince of the 
 power of the air endeavours to raise tliose storms, 
 which shall, if possible, oblige him to make ship- 
 wreck of faith, and of a good conscience : neverthe- 
 less, he must endure to the end, or he cannot be 
 saved. And how is he enabled thus to perse- 
 vere .' Surely it is through the continued commu- 
 nications of divine grace to him ; or, as the apostle 
 with admirable propriety expresses it, He obtains 
 mercy of the Lord to be faithful. It is by this 
 means that he obtains the victory : and while he 
 overcomes the world, and conquers the remaining 
 corruptions of his heart, he must still liumbly own, 
 that in the one and the other instance, he is more 
 than a conqueror through him that loved him. In 
 short, he will be ready to acknowledge, that having 
 obtained help of God, he continues to this day ; 
 and will mark out, as it were, the several stages of 
 his journey, by erecting at the end of each a stone 
 of remembrance and thankfulness, and saying. 
 Hitherto the Lord has helped me. 
 
 And now, my friends, you may see the evidence 
 of this great truth, that by grace we are saved 
 through faith, appearing in its complete light : and 
 permit me once more to repeat the summary of the 
 whole argument, that it may be more deeply, and 
 more distinctly, impressed upon your minds. — How 
 much soever faith may be supposed to be our own 
 unassisted act, so far as the act of any creature is 
 unassisted, it could make no atonement to the in- 
 jured justice of God,— and much less confer any 
 obligation upon him to bestow on us eternal life ; 
 — nor had there been any room to mention it at all 
 I in the whole affair, if God had not contrived such a 
 method of salvation, and done that to effect it wliicli 
 none but himself could do : — mucli more will it 
 appear to be of grace, when we add, that faith it- 
 self is the gift of God,— as he reveals the great 
 objects of it ;— as he brings the mind to attend to 
 them ; — as he conquers the natural aversion of the 
 I heart to the gospel method of salvation ; — and car- 
 ries on the work of faith in the soul, till it ends in 
 complete sulvation. It now remains, 
 
 IV. That I conclude with some obvious, but use- 
 ful, inferences from the whole. 
 
 And here now, if it is by grace that we arc saved 
 through faith, then certainly we may infer from 
 hence, — that we have no reason to glory, — but 
 .should be thankful for the grace by which we are 
 saved ; — that we must wholly be without excuse, if 
 we neglect this method of salvation ;— that we 
 should labour, therefore, that our faith may be in- 
 creased and strengthened ;— that even the weakest 
 
 have encouragement to seek and to hope for salva- 
 tion in this way ; — and finally, that we should take 
 heed, that we do not bring a reproach upon this 
 doctrine by an irregular and licentious behaviour. 
 
 1. If we are saved by grace through faith, then it 
 is certain, that " we have no reason to glory." 
 
 If it were possible a person should perform the 
 most complete and perfect obedience, and so were 
 justified by works, it is but onlj' in a limited sense 
 he would have any thing of which to glory before 
 God ; since even he must acknowledge, that it is 
 God who works in him, both to will and to do, and 
 by his gracious influences renders him capable of 
 both : however he, in such a case, may in some 
 measure glory, that he has done his best, and that 
 his behaviour has all that merit, or all that excel- 
 lence, which the behaviour of a creature in his cir- 
 cumstances could possibly have. But when the 
 ungodly are justified, when we who have been trans- 
 gressors in ten thousand aggravated in.stances are 
 saved by grace through faith, of what shall we 
 glory ? Shall any of us glory, that we are saved by 
 another, when even our receiving that other is what 
 God hath brought us to by the renewing and sanc- 
 tifying influences of his grace upon our hearts ! 
 When we had corrupted and undone ourselves, and 
 were under a sentence of condemnation and wrath, 
 we have embraced the gospel, that is, we have ac- 
 cepted the riches of the divine liberality and good- 
 ness exhibited in it : but shall a beggar glory, in 
 having stretched out his hand to receive an alms ? 
 especially if it were given him by a generous and 
 skilful physician, who before he bestowed tliatalms, 
 had cured him of a disease, liy which tliat very 
 hand, now stretched out to him, liad been benumbed 
 and disabled? Let us rather enter into that just 
 and amiable reasoning of the apostle Paul, and say, 
 as he does. Of him, i. e. of God, are we in Christ 
 .lesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and 
 righteousness, and sanctification, and redempfion : 
 let no flesh therefore glory in liis presence ; but he 
 that glories, let him glory in the Lord. And this 
 leads me to infer, 
 
 '2. That we have a great deal of reason to " be 
 thankful, and to adore the grace by which we are 
 saved." 
 
 If it is God who commanded the light to shine 
 out of darkness, that has shincd in our hearts, to 
 give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of 
 God in the face of Jesus Christ, let us bless the 
 Lord who has showed us tliis light, and with a 
 cheerful gratitude let us bind tiie sacrifice, as it 
 were, with cords unto the horns of the altar; let us 
 bless the God and Father of our Lord .Jesus Christ, 
 the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort, 
 who has blessed us with all spiritual blessings in 
 heavenly things in ('iirist ; according as he has 
 chosen us in him before the foundation of the 
 
794 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 world, lliat wc should be holy and witliout l)liime 
 before liim in love. I would call upon you this 
 day to do it ; to join with me, and with each other, 
 in it. Praise the Lord, all ye his saints ; be thank- 
 ful unto him, and bless his name ! Praise him, wlio 
 graciously purposed your salvation, and predestin- 
 ated you to the adoption of children by Jesus 
 Christ unto himself! Praise him, who rendered 
 this purpose ell'cetual, and wroufcht it out by a high 
 hand and oulstretchcd arm! Praise him, who gave 
 his own Son to be a sacrifice for you, and to bring 
 in everlasting righteousness ! Praise him, who sent 
 Iiis Spirit, as the great agent in his Son's kingdom, 
 to bring the hearts of sinners to a subjection to the 
 gospel, and gently to captivate them to the obe- 
 dience of faith ! Praise him, who has revealed this 
 glorious gospel to you, at so great a distance of 
 lime and place! Praise him, who has impressed 
 your hearts with a disposition to regard it ! Praise 
 him, who has subdued your prejudices against it ! 
 Praise him, who, having implanted faith in your 
 souls, continues even to tiiis day to animate and 
 support it ! — Let all ranks and ages join in this 
 cheerful song ! Praise ye the Lord, ye that are rich 
 in temporal possessions, if you have been enabled' 
 to renounce the world as your portion, and to 
 triumph over it by this divine principle! Praise 
 him, you that are poor in this world, if yon are rich 
 in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which God has 
 promised to them that love him! Praise liim, you 
 that are cheerful and vigorous, and capable of ren- 
 dering him that active service which may speak the 
 gratitude of your hearts towards him ! Praise him, 
 you that are weak and languishing, since liis 
 strength is made perfect in your weakness, and 
 your infirmities illustrate the force of that faith 
 which he has wrought in you! Praise him, ye 
 youths who, with this guide and companion of your 
 way, are setting forth in the journey of life with 
 courage, and lifting up your feet in his paths! 
 Praise him, ye aged saints, wlio stand on the bor- 
 ders of eternity, and live in a daily expectation, 
 that you shall receive the end of your faith in the 
 salvation of your souls! — Begin that work now, in 
 which you are all so soon to join ! Break forth into 
 one joyful anthem, and sing, " Not unto us, O Lord, 
 not unto us, but to thy name be all the praise of 
 that salvation, which thou hast already begun in 
 our souls, and which thy faithfulness has engaged 
 to complete.'' Again, 
 
 3. If we are saved by grace through faith, then 
 certainly " they who neglect such a metiiod of sal- 
 vation are highly inexcusable." 
 
 To be not only delivered from everlasting condem- 
 nation and ruin, but raised to tlie presence and en- 
 joyment of Cod above, is so glorious an exchange, 
 so important a prize, that it would be worth while 
 to secure it at any imaginable rate, whatever was to 
 
 be resigned, whatever to be endured, for it. But it 
 is certain, that the more gracious the proposal and 
 ofler is, the baser and more criminal will the refusal 
 be. Had some hard matter been proposed, should 
 we not have done it f and how much rather, when 
 the divine oracle only says. Wash and be clean ? 
 Believe in the Lord Jesus Clirist, and thou shalt be 
 saved. — To you, my brethren, even to all that hear 
 me this day, is the word of this salvation sent, and 
 brought: let me address you, therefore, in the lan- 
 guage of the apostle, and say. Take heed that you 
 receive not the grace of God in vain ; and let me 
 add. Behold, now is the accepted time ; behold, now 
 is the day of salvation. Dare not to trille in a 
 business of such consequence ; lest if you should 
 neglect it even till to-morrow, there should be no 
 room to repeat tliat declaration then. That God 
 should ever olfer salvation at all, and especially ia 
 such a method, is astonisliing condescension and 
 love ; and every instance in which that offer is re- 
 newed, is a renewed miracle of mercy. But the 
 day of the divine patience has its limits; and if 
 you trille beyond those limits, and know not that 
 the goodness and long-sufl'ering of God lead to re- 
 pentance, this injured mercy will plead against 
 you, and it will appear you have treasured up to 
 yourselves wrath against the day of wrath, and reve- 
 lation of the righteous judgment of God. 
 
 4. If we are saved through faith, then surely 
 " we should iabour, that this blessed principle may 
 be strengthened in our souls." 
 
 The greater evidence we have of the sincerity of 
 our faith, the greater assurance may we justly have 
 of our interest in the gospel salvation ; and the 
 stronger our faith is, the clearer will the evidence 
 of its truth be. Let us therefore emulate the 
 character of our father Abraham, and make it our 
 care, like him, to be strong in faith, thereby giving 
 glory to God. — To this purpose let me address you, 
 my Christian brethren, to be diligent and serious in 
 attending the ordinances of divine institution, and 
 especially that of hearing the word; for as the 
 apostle observes. Faith comes by hearing, and 
 hearing by the word of God. And it is certain, the 
 better we are acquainted with the word of God, 
 the more shall we trace of its evidence ; and it is 
 probable, we shall also feel so much the more of its 
 energy, awakening and confirming those internal 
 acts of faith, which it is our duty with increasing 
 vigour daily to renew: and I doubt not, but the 
 experience of many that hear me, attests the reason- 
 ableness of this address.— Let me also exhort you, 
 to seek after greater strength of faith by fervent 
 application to God in prayer ; as the disciples that 
 came unto Jesus, and said. Lord, increase our 
 faith. Plead, that your faith, in its original, and 
 in its progress, is the work of God ; and earnestly 
 entreat, that his work may be perfected.— And to 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 795 
 
 add efficacy to all, labour to the utmost to bring 
 forth the genuine fruits of true faith, in all the 
 branches of a holy temper, and an exemplary life. 
 Thus show to all that are about you, your faith by 
 your works ; walking worthy of the vocation where- 
 with you are called, worthy of him tliat has called 
 you to l;.'s kingdom and glory. For in proportion 
 to the degree with which these fruits appear, it will 
 be evident, there is life at the root ; and you v.ill 
 find, that as the vigour of our limbs, so also that of 
 our virtues and graces, will grow by use and exer- 
 cise. And in this view let mc observe, 
 
 5. That if we are saved by grace through faith, 
 then " there is encouragement even for the weakest 
 soul, to seek after this gospel salvation, and to hope 
 it shall obtain it." 
 
 Give me leave here to add.'css myself to those, 
 whose hearts are impressed with their eternal con- 
 cerns, but then feel their own manifold weakness, 
 and perhaps may be discouraged (as young persons 
 very frequently are) with observing the difficulty 
 of religion. My brethren, if your hopes of justifi- 
 cation were by the works of the law, whether the 
 ceremonial or the moral law, these discouragements 
 were just: since were all the sins of your former 
 life forgiven upon your return to God, yet through 
 the infirmities of human nature, and the tempta- 
 tions of life, you would no doubt quickly fall into 
 some new transgression ; and this one, even the 
 least, would be sufficient to ruin you, and to bring 
 you into condemnation again. But the righteous- 
 ness of faith speaks an easier and more gracious 
 language, when it says. Believe in the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and thou shalt be saved. You know of 
 whom it was said, A bruised reed will he not 
 break, and smoking flax will he not quench : why 
 should you not then enter into a treaty with so 
 mild, so gracious, so compassionate a Saviour ? 
 Nay, I will add, why should you not be saved by 
 him? Arc you willing to accept his grace? Methinks, 
 I hear one and another reply, " What do 1 desire so 
 much, as to accept it? Feeble and guilty as I am, 
 I would at least bow as low as any of thy servants, 
 in a thankful acknowledgment of the riches and 
 freedom of thy grace ; and I would ascribe my 
 salvation to it in as entire a renunciation of all self- 
 dependence, as any of them all should do." And 
 when I ask, (as it is necessary I should ask,) arc 
 you also willing to bow to his yoke? I persuade 
 myself, there arc those of you, whose conscience 
 answers, " Lord, I would take it upon me, with a 
 most thankful consent : I desire nothing so much, 
 as to serve thee ; but I suspect tiiis treacherous and 
 inconstant heart, that is so ready to forsake thee." 
 My brethren, this desire of .serving him, if you 
 know what you say when you express it, is the 
 effect of his grace ; and it is a comfortable token, 
 that he will give more grace. Set yourselves 
 
 therefore, with a cheerful courage, to oppose those 
 difficulties that lie in the way, and to work out your 
 own salvation with hope and joy, as well as with 
 fear and trembling ; for it is God that even now is 
 working in you, both to will and to do, of his 
 good pleasure ; and you have abundant reason to 
 hope, he will not forsake the work of his own hands. 
 
 6. If the doctrine of salvation by grace through 
 faith be so divine and important as we have heard, 
 then " let us take heed that we do not bring a 
 reproach upon it, by an irregular and licentious 
 behaviour." 
 
 Let the holy apostle, who is the great asserter of 
 this doctrine, be heard as the guardian of its ho- 
 nour, wiven he says. Shall we continue in sin, that 
 grace may abound ? God forbid ! You plainly see, 
 that this doctrine, when Scripturally explained as 
 above, gives no rational foundation, no, nor even 
 any plausible excuse, for such an inference, how- 
 ever the corruption of men's hearts may take occa- 
 sion from it, And it would be far more reasonable, 
 and much less detrimental to mankind, to endea- 
 vour to root up all the vines in the world, and de- 
 stroy all the animals intended for food, because 
 wine and flesh are sometimes the occasions and in- 
 struments of luxurious riot ; than to deny this im- 
 portant doctrine, because it n\ay be perverted to 
 purposes unfriendly to practical religion. But see 
 you to it, my friends, that you, if you are per-- 
 suaded this is the doctrine of God, behave in such 
 a manner as to show, that you perceive it to be, 
 what indeed it is, a doctrine according to godli- 
 ness. Woe to that man, by whom, in this instance, 
 the offence comes ! It had been better for him, that 
 a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that 
 he were drowned in the depth of the sea, than that 
 he should occasion such dishonour to God, and 
 bring such a reproach upon his truths and his ways. 
 And give me leave to say, there is hardly any con- 
 sideration in the world, that should <:ut deeper into 
 the heart of the truly good man, of one who has 
 tasted that the Lord is gracious, and has believed 
 through grace, than the rellcclion of having made 
 such unworthy and ungrateful returns to God, for 
 that singular mercy which he has obtained from 
 him, in the provision which the gospel has made for 
 his saivatir)n in so gracious and so endearing a way. 
 
 Let mc therefore conclude, with charging you in 
 llie most solemn manner, before God and the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, and by the honour of that gospel you 
 so strenuously profess, that you exercise a holy 
 watchfulness over yourselves in this respect. Con- 
 sider, my brethren, how many eyes are upon you 
 for evil. It is true indeed, that charity, that boasted 
 name, that divine principle, would teach men 
 another lesson ; it would teach them to mourn, 
 rather than to triumph, over the faults of thcni that 
 call themselves Christians. But there is very litUo 
 
79(5 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 of tliat to be foimd ; and on the contrary, a f^reat 
 deal of that carnal, sensual, and diabolical zeal, 
 which rejoices in iniquity, and takes the g'rcatest 
 pleasure in the irregularities of those whose fail- 
 ings ought most to be lamented ; that is, of those 
 who are most signalized by a Christian profession. 
 Remember therefore, and consider, my friends, (liat 
 it would be far better for you to die, tlian to lay a 
 stumbling-block in the way of tiie souls of men ; 
 and to give them any just cause for representing 
 the gospel as a doctrine of licentiousness, or speak- 
 ing of Christ as the minister of sin. 
 
 You solemnly renounce all dependence upon 
 your own righteousness before God ; and in pro- 
 fessing to do it, and to expect salvation by his 
 grace alone, you do well. But give me leave to 
 say, tliat if in the mean time you yourselves are 
 found sinners, allowing yourselves habitually in 
 any tiling contrary to the divine will, the renun- 
 ciation of such a righteousness as is consistent 
 with that, will be a very unworthy kind of sacrifice 
 before God, and do very little credit to your pro- 
 
 fession before men. And by these declarations, 
 when compared with so bad a conduct, you will 
 run a great risk of bringing your religious notions 
 themselves into disgrace, and will probably build 
 again that which you seem most solicitous to de- 
 stroy. Let it therefore evidently appear, that the 
 grace of God which appears unto all men, has 
 efl'ectually taught you to deny all ungodliness and 
 worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and 
 godly in this present world. Let the whole world 
 about you see, that the divine goodness to you, in 
 which you rejoice and glory, has had its elficacy, 
 to purify and humanize your hearts, to fdl them 
 with humanity and universal love, and to inspire 
 them with a most friendly, benevolent, generous 
 care for the happiness of all around you, as well 
 as with a generous concern to make your own call- 
 ing and election sure. Nothing will so powerfully 
 plead for the gospel, as such a care to adorn it, and 
 to seek that salvation which is entirely of (jrace, 
 through sanctification of the Spirit, as well as the 
 belief of the truth. 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 CHRIST'S INVITATION TO THIRSTY SOULS. 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Reverend Mr. James Hervey. 
 
 Reverend and dear Sir, 
 
 It may perhaps surprise you, that amidst the familiarities of our intimate friendship I .should, without 
 any previous notice, address you thus publicly from the press. I am not without some apprehension, that 
 your modesty may be a little distressed on the occasion ; but I am persuaded, you will on the whole 
 forgive the desire I had, tliat all, to whom this little piece may come, should know, what most who are 
 personally acquainted with us both already know, that I most highly esteem you, and most afleetionately 
 love you ; and that no diversity in our professions and forms could prevent our entering into the strictest 
 bonds of fii( ii<lslii|), or make me unwilling most openly to profess it, and to perpetuate the memory of 
 it, while this shall remain. 
 
 I am sorry to say, the temper that generally prevails is of such a nature, as to prohibit intimacies of 
 this kind, and too frequently to occasion aversions, where there is no other cause of them than a variety 
 of religious sentiments and practices. IJut it is our happiness, that we apprehend that temper to be as 
 unreasonable as it is unlovely. And surely all thinking men would see it in the same view, if they 
 would but seriously compare the importance of those things wherein we agree, with that of tliosc in 
 which we difl'er; especially if tliey would further rcllect, that the very same principles under did'crent 
 views promote, in conscientious men, those dilferent practices, which, forgetting those principles, funda- 
 mental as they are to all true religion, the professors of it arc so apt to contend about. 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 797 
 
 You, my pious and honoured friend, being (I doubt not) in your own mind persuaded, that diocesan 
 episcopacy is of divine original, and that the church hath autliority to decree rites and ceremonies, and 
 to determine controversies in matters of faith, have solemnly declared that belief: and in consequence of 
 it, have obliged yourself to render canonical obedience to those, whom you thereby acknowledge as 
 governing you by an authority delegated from Christ ; that thus you may be subject to every ordinance 
 of man, for the Lord's sake, and thereby approve your submission to him. I have declined that subjec- 
 tion, not from any disrespect to the persons of the established ecclesiastical governors, (many of whom 
 I hold in the highest esteem, and number among the most distinguished ornaments of our common 
 Christianity,) and least of all from any unwillingness to yield subjection, where I apprehend Christ to 
 have appointed it : for so far as I know my own heart, it would be my greatest joy, to bow with all 
 humility to any authority delegated from him. But I will freely tell you and the world, my nonconfor- 
 mity is founded on this. That I assuredly believe the contrary to what the constitution of the Church of 
 England requires me to declare, on the above-mentioned heads, and on some others, to be the truth : and 
 I esteem it much more eligible, to remain under an incapacity of sharing its honours and revenues, than 
 to open my way to a possibility of obtaining them by what would in me, while I have such appj-ehen- 
 sions, be undoubtedly an act of prevarication, hypocrisy, and falsehood ; reverencing herein the autho- 
 rity of God, and remembering the account I must shortly give up in his presence. 
 
 Thus, Sir, on the whole, we both choose what we apprehended God requires ; we both adhere to that 
 discipline, which we believe to have been primitive ; or where you give it up in some instances, it is with 
 an upright desire, I doubt not, of conforming to what you judge to be the leading and most important 
 articles : but we both desire, that the communion of the church may be pure, and the form of its disci- 
 pline and worship truly apostolical ; and would exert the power, of which we each of us think ourselves 
 regularly possessed, to make and keep it so ; thougli we do not estimate our respective powers alike. We 
 pray in different words and manners; we preach in dill'erent habits; we receive the sacred supper in 
 different postures: but we both preach repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, re- 
 generation and sanctification by his Spirit, and subjection to his laws, and particularly to that distin- 
 guishing law of mutual love. We both address the same God, in the name of the same Mediator ; and 
 the great blessings we ask, are in the main the same. We both commemorate the death of Christ as our 
 propitiatory sacrifice, resting our own souls, and directing our people to rest theirs, on the atonement he 
 hath made, and the complete righteousness which he hath wrought. Thus joining in love to Iiim as our 
 common Saviour, and living the life which we live in the flesh by the faith of the S-on of God, we are 
 both waiting for his salvation ; expecting that ere long our spirits will be joined, in the general assembly 
 and church of those who die in the Lord ; (that assembly where perfect knowledge and love cement in 
 everlasting bands the souls that once differed, as widely as they could difler who were one in Christ;) 
 where we hope, through divine grace, to share ages of delight, till our bodies shall be in the same moment 
 borne from the dust, to inherit in our complete persons the everlasting kingdom of our heavenly Father. 
 And in the mean time, why should it be thought strange, that amidst so many endearing bonds of union, 
 our thoughts are hardly at leisure to recollect the little circumstances in which we difler ? Surely th^e 
 part we are acting under these different denominations, is far more pleasing to God, more comfortable to 
 ourselves, and more edifying to the world, than if you, dear Sir, were to set at naugiit your brother for 
 his nonconformity, or I to judge mine for his conformity ; and we were to infect (not to say, poison) the 
 streams of God's sanctuary, where we respectively preside, with the bitterness of contention, censure, 
 and reproach. 
 
 I assuredly believe, my worthy brother, that in what I have now been writing with so unusual a free- 
 dom, and in what I thought I might in this connexion write with some peculiar advantage, I have uttered 
 your sentiments as well as my own. And surely, were they more generally to prevail, the face of our reli- 
 gious interests in Great Britain would wear a more pleasing and more hopeful aspect. Were our hearts thus 
 filled with a desire of approaching to each other, and disposed on one hand and the other to sacrifice, as 
 far as with a safe conscience we could, the circumstances that divide us, where we are divided, love 
 might perhaps find means of union, at present unthought of by most. Or in the mean time, our worship- 
 ping in different places under different forms, might be no more pernicious to the peace and prosperity of 
 the church, than our worshipping in different places, according to the same ritual ; which the greatest 
 imaginable uniformity cannot possibly prevent, till we all come to the general assembly, and join the 
 innumerable multitude that surround the throne of the Lamb, in that celestial temple, to which, with all 
 the people of God below, we daily aspire. 
 
 To this blessed end I trust, through divine grace, our prayers, our discourses, our writings, and our 
 examples will still be tending; and blessed be God, that there are so many excellent persons in both 
 communions, whose hands and hearts are joining with ours in the prosecution of it. May their nundjers, 
 their zeal, and their charity, be daily growing ! And may God establish your health, dear Sir, whicii is 
 now in so tender a state, that you may long be capable of bearing your important part in so noble a work ; 
 that the parish in which you labour, or some other that may all'ord you a yet larger sphere of usefulness, 
 may be happy to distant years in your edifying sermons, and in those private instructions wliich you are, 
 with so exemplary, and, O that I could not say, with so uncommon, a zeal, adding to those which you 
 address to them from the pulpit! Be assured. Sir, that no man living can more sincerely rejoice in 
 the acceptance of your labours, and particularly in that great and general admiration in which your 
 pious and excellent Contemplations are so justly held, by persons of almost every rank and genius, 
 education and profession ; so that the warmest friendship can hardly dictate a higher wish relating to 
 them, than that they may be as useful as they are delightful to all your readers. 
 
 As for the Sermon, with which I here present you, it was preached near twenty years ago, and has 
 long lain by me transcribed among several others, which I have prepared for the press, that if surviving 
 
7!)S SERMONS. 
 
 friends should desire it, they may be offered to the world after my death. It is now puhlished at the 
 importunate reijuest of a worthy member of the established ehureh, to whom in the intimacy of our 
 friendsiiip it liad been communieated, and who lias hiniself been very deeply impressed with the repre- 
 sentation of the important troths whicli are handled in it. My ol>li^ations to him, and my re<;ard for his 
 judsment, \, ould not permit me to dispute sueh a point with him : and I was the more ready to ciomply 
 M'itii his desire, as something- of a pceuliar blessing seemed lo attend the Discourse, when delivered from 
 the pulpit ; and that to such a defjree, as I do not know to have been equalled by any other sermon I ever 
 preached. This eneouraRes me to hope that, ])lain as it is, and destitute of almost every charm that 
 mi-jht recommend it to a modern taste, the perusal of it may be useful towards promoting the great end 
 of the Christian ministry ; which undoubtedly is, to bring men to a proper application to that eompas- 
 .sionate Saviour whose overflowing goodness is here celebrated, and by that means to lead them to every 
 grace and virtue, as the genuine fruit of faith, and of that love which will natarally be connected with 
 it. I will not call this the grand secret of reforming the world ; for blessed be God, it is not a secret; 
 but it is the mighty instrument, which divine mercy has put into the hands of the ministers of Jesus, to 
 accomplish ends which all the wisdom of ancient and modern philosophers has attempted in vain ; and 
 God is to this day bearing testimony to the word of his grace. Yes, dear Sir, I will never be ashamed to 
 confess it, that I have the joy to see, in your assemblies and in ours, that where these doctrines are faith- 
 fully and elTectivjlly preached, they rise, like the warm beams of the sun on the face of the earth, be- 
 nuinbed by the rigour of winter ; and call forth into verdure, beauty, and fragrancy, a thousand excellent 
 productions, the very seeds of which would otherwise have perished. Renew, my worthy friend, the 
 ardour of your prayers, that the God of the spirits of all llesh may every where excite a multitude of 
 enlightened and animated witnesses, to these vital truths of his everlasting gospel ; and that his blessing 
 may attend every efl'ort for the advancement of this sacred cause ; and particularly, that it may, notwith- 
 standing all its imperfections, attend this humble attempt, from the hand of, 
 
 Reverend and dear Sir, your afl'ectionate brother 
 
 in the work of the Christian ministry, 
 
 and ever faithful friend and servant, 
 
 Northampton, Sept. 18, 1748. P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 John vii. 37. 
 
 In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus 
 stood and cried, saying. If any man thirst, let him 
 come unto me, and drinh. 
 
 All the words of our blessed Redeemer deserve our 
 very serious regard ; for, his enemies themselves 
 being judges, never man spake as he did. But 
 there is something in the words now before us, 
 which may justly challenge a peculiar attention; 
 as they were not spoken in ordinary converse, or to 
 a little circle of domestic friends, but delivered in 
 the temple, with a loud voice, on a solemn day, and 
 in the midst of a very numerous assembly. In the 
 last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and 
 cried, or made proclamation, saying. If any man 
 thirst, let him come unto me, and drink. 
 
 It is plain from the second verse, that the feast 
 here spoken of is the feast of tabernacles ; which 
 was instituted in commemoration of God's giving 
 the law to Israel, and conducting them through the 
 wilderness, wliere they dwelt in tents. The feast 
 lasted eight days ; most of the former of them were 
 spent in tabernacles or arbours made up of branches 
 of the most shady trees, and adorned with the finest 
 flowers and fruits which that delightful country 
 afforded in the month of September. It is not im- 
 probable, but on all these days the pious worship- 
 pers would sometimes quit these pleasant retreats, 
 
 to attend the services of the temple ; but it was the 
 express command of God that the whole eighth 
 day should be spent there, that being a holy con- 
 vocation, on which, besides other institutions then 
 to be attended, the whole law was to be read over 
 in the audience of all the people, from the original 
 copy which was laid up in the holy of holies. This 
 was the last day, that great day of the feast, which 
 the evangelist mentions in the words before us. 
 
 The Jewish writers assure us, that towards the 
 latter end of their commonwealtli, they had a pecu- 
 liar ceremony on this day, to which our Lord may 
 probably here refer. After they had surrounded 
 the altar seven times, with palm branches in their 
 hands, and hosannas of praise, some of the Levites 
 used to pour out, in the court of the temple, a con- 
 siderable quantity of water, drawn from the foun- 
 tain of Siloam ; the people in the mean time singing 
 those words of Isaiah, With joy shall they draw 
 water out of the wells of salvation. It is very pro- 
 bable they did this as a token of their expectation 
 and desire of the Messiah's appearance, who was to 
 sprinkle many nations, to pour water on him that 
 was thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground. 
 
 It was probably during the time of this ceremony, 
 or immediately after it, that our Lord stood up, 
 perhaps on some eminence, (as the priest w ho made 
 his libation did,) and cried or proclaimed with a 
 loud and distinct voice, these gracious and import- 
 ant words, If any man thirst, let him come unto me, 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 799 
 
 aud drink, q. d. " You all believe the promises of 
 tlie Messiah, and you have invented this rite as a 
 token that you expect his coming, and long for the 
 effusion of the Spirit, which is then to be bestowed. 
 Behold in me the person whom you profess so 
 eagerly to expect. He that believeth in me, as the 
 Scripture hath in eflect said in many places,* (or 
 he who has that faith in me which the Scripture re- 
 quires,) out of his belly shall flow rivers of living, 
 water, i. e. he shall receive the communications of 
 the Spirit in such abundant degrees, as shall not 
 only be refreshing to himself, but shall render him 
 capable of administering, in the freest and most 
 plentiful manner, to the comfort and edification of 
 others. So richly shall he be furnished with its 
 gifts and graces, that spiritual instructions and con- 
 solations shall flow from him \- like water from a 
 fountain, which branches itself out into mighty 
 rivers." Thus the evangelist himself teaches us to 
 expound these words, when he says, verse 39, This 
 he spake of the Spirit which they who believed on 
 him should receive. 
 
 Our Lord speaks of the Spirit here : but we must 
 remember that it is not in an abstracted view, as 
 separate from, but as in conjunction with, the other 
 blessings of his gospel, and as preparatory to a state 
 of eternal happiness. And therefore these words, 
 in which the blessed Jesus expresseth his ability 
 and readiness to bestow the Spirit, do evidently 
 imply that he is both able and willing to impart all 
 the blessings of this gospel, to all those who do sin- 
 cerely desire them ; and this without any exception. 
 A glorious truth ! The epitome of the gospel, and 
 the hope and life of our souls ! Which, in a humble 
 dependence on divine influences, I shall now en- 
 deavour to illustrate and confirm. I will, 
 
 T. Show you that the springs of the most valuable 
 blessings are in Christ. 
 
 II. Prove that he is not as a fountain sealed, but 
 diffuses these streams with a divine freedom, and 
 in the richest abundance, for the relief of every 
 thirsty soul. 
 
 III. I shall add some practical reflections. 
 
 I. I am to show you, that the springs of the most 
 valuable blessings are in Christ ; so that ho is abun- 
 dantly able to refresh the thirsty soul. 
 
 My brethren, I may say in the name of my great 
 Master, as was said to Israel of old. Open thy mouth 
 wide, and I will fill if. Extend your desires to the 
 utmost boundaries that arc consistent with reason 
 and piety, and from him you may receive the most 
 copious supply ; for he is able to do exceedingly 
 abundantly above all that we can ask or think. 
 
 * For I do not apprehend, with Mr. Whi?ton, that our Lord reft rs 
 to some passiige that is lost. 
 
 + Out of his belly, i. e. from within — hern, from thesonl. Comp. J.>h 
 XV. ."iS. Their liclly, i. e. mind, priparelh dereit. Job xx. 20. He 
 shall tiot fed quit ntss in hi-s belly, i. e. his conscience. Prov. xx. 27. 
 The candle of the Lord searrhet'h the inward parts of the hclly, i e. 
 mind. Ibid. ver. 30. Stripes cleanse the inward pnrts of tl,o belly, i. e. 
 Afflictions m-iy be the mc.in.s of purifying the soul. 
 
 I will not enlarge on the general proof of this fun- 
 damental truth, which so often occurs. I will not 
 speak particularly of the fulness of Godhead which 
 dwells in him bodily ; nor of that communicated 
 fulness which is treasured up in him as Man and 
 Mediator, by the pleasure of the Father, of which 
 we have all received even grace for grace, /. e. an 
 abundance of grace. I aim, in my present Dis- 
 course, not so much at enlightening the understand- 
 ing, in the evidence of a doctrine so universally 
 allowed amongst all professing Christians ; as at 
 affecting your heart and my own, with a sense of 
 what, even while we acknowledge, we are all so 
 prone to forget. 
 
 Let me entreat you then to reflect, on this occa- 
 sion, what are those blessings which a rational soul 
 would most eagerly desire, most ardently thirst 
 after. You will immediately reply, if you know 
 God and yourselves, " We are guilty creatures, and 
 we need a pardon ; so need it, as to be for ever un- 
 done without it. We are naturally indigent and 
 dependent, and we need an interest in the constant 
 paternal care of the great Author of our being. We 
 are polluted, weak, and disconsolate, and we need 
 the energy of the divine Spirit, to purify, to 
 strengthen, and to revive us. We are immortal 
 creatures, on the borders of the grave, through 
 which we are shortly to enter on the eternal 
 world ; and therefore we need, and cannot but 
 earnestly desire, an interest in that future and un- 
 changeable happiness." My friends, if this be your 
 judgment, it is according to truth : may these de- 
 sires be continually growing in your souls ! for, be 
 the thirst ever so impatient, the streams which flow 
 from this living fountain are abundantly sufficient 
 to relieve it. 
 
 1. Do you thirst for the pardon of sin? From 
 the Lord Jesus Christ you may receive a supply. 
 
 Inconsiderable as this may .seem to the careless 
 sinner, whose eyes are sleeping the sleep of <leath, 
 to the enlightened soul it cannot but appear of in- 
 finite importance. When once convictions take 
 hold of the heart ; when the sacred law of the eter- 
 nal God is thrown open in all its extent and all its 
 purify, and conscience charges us with our viola- 
 tions of it ; when that awful hand appears to write 
 Tekel against us. Thou art weighed in the balance, 
 and found wanting, no wonder if trembling and 
 astonishment seize us : no wonder if even our joints 
 are loosed, and our knees smite one against an- 
 other, when angry Omnipotence appears, as it 
 were, rising against us in all its terrors, and hell 
 seems to open its mouth to devour us. Well may 
 other cares and passions be lost in this, as the 
 rustling of a leaf in the report of thunder. Accord- 
 ingly, the awakened sinner is represented as in- 
 quiring, not after a blessing out of the corn-floor 
 and the wine-press, not saying, What shall I eat, 
 
800 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 and what sliall I drink, and wherewithal sliall I be 
 clothed! but as possessed by other thoughts, which 
 now appear of infinitely greater moment, Where- 
 with shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself 
 before the most high God ! He is represented as 
 willing, if possible, to purehase a pardon, not only 
 at the expense of the most costly oflerings, with 
 thousands of rams, and ten thousands of rivers of 
 oil, were they at his disposal, but with a sacrilice 
 abundantly more precious than these ; Shall I give, 
 says lie, my (irst-born for my transgression, the 
 fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? David 
 speaks of himself as thirsting for pardon, when he 
 says, under a sense of guilt. Whilst I kept silence 
 my bones waxed old, through my roaring all the 
 day long ; for day and night thy hand was heavy 
 upon me, my moisture was turned into the drought 
 of summer. It was like an envenomed arrow shot 
 into his soul, the poison of which diflused itself 
 through all his veins, and even drank up the vital 
 spirits. 
 
 Now if any of you have felt, or do now feel, this 
 raging thirst, if you experimentally know that rest- 
 lessness of mind which is the inseparable attendant 
 of such a circumstance, it must be matter of joy to 
 hear that the blessed Jesus can allay these eager 
 desires, can sweetly compose the soul in the midst 
 of these painful agonies, by that blood of sprinkling 
 which speaks better things than the blood of Abel. 
 We are expressly told, that in him we have re- 
 demption through liis blood, even the forgiveness 
 of our sins ; that God hath exalted him to be a 
 prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and remis- 
 sion of sins ; and that by him we may be justified, 
 not only from the slighter irregularities of life, but 
 from the greatest enormities of it, even from all 
 those things from which we could not be justified 
 by the law of Moses ; for which that dispensation 
 appointed no expiatory sacrifices, but condemned 
 the offender to die without mercy. 
 
 2. Do you thirst for the favour of God ? Our Lord 
 Jesus Christ is able to introduce you to it. 
 
 It is most evident, that this is in its own nature 
 infinitely desirable ; and when the eyes of a man's 
 understanding are enlightened, it will undoubtedly 
 appear so. " And is there," will he immediately cry 
 out, " is there indeed a Being of infinite perfection 
 and glory, the overilowing eternal fountain of hap- 
 piness ? And will he communicate of himself to 
 mortal and to sinful creatures ; Will he not only 
 sheathe the flaming sword of his vengeance, but ex- 
 tend the golden sceptre of his grace ? Will he not 
 only sign the pardon of such ungrateful rebels, but 
 even adopt them into the number of his children ? 
 How does my soul long to look upwards, and call 
 him my Father ! Happy creatures, whom he admits 
 into such a relation ! to whom he reveals himself 
 under so endearing a character! Happy creatures 
 
 indeed, that can go out and come in, that can lie 
 down and rise up, under the impression of this 
 glorious transporting thought, God is ever surround- 
 ing us with his favourable presence, is ever with us 
 as a father and a friend ! O that this happiness 
 were mine ! How rich should I be in such a portion, 
 thougli I were stripped of my earthly all, and sent 
 out hungry and hardly bestead, to seek my bread 
 in desolate places ! Let unthinking wictciies say, 
 Who will show us any temporal good ; but while 
 I have a voice to express, and a soul to form, a de- 
 sire, this shall be its language. Lord, lift thou up the 
 light of thy countenance upon me !" 
 
 This, my friends, is the tendency of the soul to 
 its proper centre ; and as it is of all others the most 
 natural, so in a sanctified heart it is of all others 
 the most forcible and lively. Therefore this kind 
 of desires is represented in Scripture, by the most 
 eager and impatient thirst, even that of a hunted 
 deer after refreshing streams: As the hart panteth 
 after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after 
 thee, O God : my soul thirsteth for God, for the liv- 
 ing God ; when shall I come and appear before 
 God ! And elsewhere. My soul thirsteth for God ; 
 my flesh longeth for thee, as in a dry and thirsty 
 land, where no water is : " The thirsty pilgrim can- 
 not long more for cooling streams, when parched up 
 in a sandy desert, than I for thee." Nay, the 
 ardourof his desire is represented as extorting a pas- 
 sionate cry. My heart and my flesh crieth out for 
 the living God. 
 
 Do you, my friends, feel any such holy breath- 
 ings ? Can you adopt these pathetic words of David, 
 as expressive of the inward sentiments of your soul? 
 Blessed be God, they are not hopeless desires? 
 The Lord Jesus Christ is the sacred channel, 
 through which the waters of life flow, from the ever- 
 lasting, inexhaustible fountain ! It was the very 
 business which he came into the world about, to 
 establish a friendship between God and his apostate 
 creatures. Therefore we are expressly told, that 
 God hath made us accepted in the Beloved : and 
 our Lord assures us, that he can introduce us to so 
 great an intimacy with him, that it may properly be 
 said, that he even dwells in our .souls ; If any man 
 love me, he will keep my word ; and my Father will 
 love him, and we will come unto him, and make 
 our abode with him. 
 
 .3. Do you thirst for the communications of the 
 Spirit ; Tiie Lord Jesus Christ can abundantly 
 relieve you. 
 
 Are you sensible of those pollutions, which have 
 overspread your souls, and have sullied the original 
 beauties of them ? Are you mourning over a law in 
 your members, which wars against that of your 
 minds? Are you complaining of the weakness of 
 your degenerate natures, that when td will is pre- 
 sent with you, how to perform that which is good 
 
PRACTICAL 
 
 you find not? Are gloomy apprehensions arising in 
 your minds in consequence of such disorders? Do 
 you tremble under the fears of divine displeasure, 
 already suspecting the safety of your state, or fear- 
 ing lest you should lose what you have attained ? It 
 is evident you need the influences of the Spirit, 
 whose office it is to purify, to invigorate, and to 
 cheer the soul. Now it is from the Lord Jesus 
 Christ that this Spirit is to be communicated, and 
 therefore it is called the supply of the Spirit of Jesus 
 Christ ; and it is said, that of his fulness we have 
 all received, even grace for grace, as I before ob- 
 served. And for this very reason, because the 
 Spirit was purchased by his blood, is treasured up 
 in his hand, and dispensed by him ; all the blessed 
 operations produced by his agency are ascribed to 
 Christ, by whom it is declared that the soul is 
 sanctified, strengthened, and comforted. Christ of 
 God is made unto us sanctification. I, says the 
 apostle, can do all things through Christ that 
 strengtheneth me. Our consolations abound through 
 Christ. It was the more proper and necessary to 
 insist on this, as the text doth so immediately relate 
 to the supplies of the Spirit. 
 
 4. Do you thirst for the joys and glories of the 
 heavenly world ? The Lord Jesus Christ is able to 
 relieve you. 
 
 One would think, it w ere absolutely impossible to 
 believe them, and not ardently to desire a share in 
 them. One would think, that when we have been 
 taking the most transient survey of the land of pro- 
 mise, as delineated in the word of God, we should 
 immediately cry out, as Moses in the views of an 
 earthly Canaan, I pray thee let me go over, and see 
 that pleasant land, which is beyond Jordan, even 
 that goodly mountain and Lebanon. " It is de- 
 lightful to view it from hence ; but, O w hen shall 
 I enter upon it ! When shall I taste those plea- 
 sures of which I now hear, and drink of those re- 
 freshing streams which shine so beautiful in the 
 distant prospect!" We, says the apostle, wlio are 
 in this tabernacle, do groan being burthened, not 
 that we may be unclothed, but clothed upon, that 
 mortality may be swallowed up of life. And if we 
 are thus thirsting for expected glory, to whom 
 should we go but to that Redeemer, who has the 
 words of eternal life. He is the Lord of both worlds, 
 and heaven as well as earth is subject to his com- 
 mand. All power is given unto him, both in 
 heaven and upon earth. Let him but give forth the 
 sovereign word, and the golden gates, the everlast- 
 ing doors, shall be lifted up to admit us, and a 
 throne of glory erected, radiant and exalted, as he 
 shall ordain. He therefore speaks of it as his pe- 
 culiar office, and certain care, to prepare seats and 
 abodes of felicity for his people in the invisible 
 world, and at length to translate them thither. 
 " In my Father's house are many mansions : if it 
 
 SERMONS. 801 
 
 were not so, I would have told you : I go to prepare 
 a place for you ; and if I go and prepare a place 
 for you, I will come again, and receive you to my- 
 self, that where I am there you may be also." 
 
 I hope this may be sufficient to prove, that the 
 Lord Jesus Christ is able to satisfy the most im- 
 portant desires of the soul, and to allay its most 
 eager thirst, — for the pardon of sin, — the favour of 
 God, — the communications of the Spirit,— and the 
 happiness of the future state. " It is true," will the 
 humble soul say, " I firmly believe the springs of 
 the most valuable blessings are in him ; but have I 
 any encouragement to hope that he will open them 
 for the relief of so mean and so unworthy a crea- 
 ture as I .'" This is the business of my second 
 general, viz. 
 
 II. To prove, that the Lord Jesus is willing to 
 communicate of these living streams with a divine 
 freedom, for the refreshment of every humble soul 
 who sincerely thirsts after them. 
 
 Blessed be God, there is a cloud of witnesses to 
 attest a truth in which our hopes for time and for 
 eternity are so nearly concerned. I appeal to the 
 invitations, to the Spirit, to the tears, to the blood 
 of the great Redeemer, and to the experience of 
 every pious soul in heaven and on earth. 
 
 1. Let the invitations of Christ witness, that he is 
 ready to relieve thirsty souls. 
 
 The gospel times are described in the prophetic 
 writings, as times of extraordinary plenty, in which 
 the most nourishing and delightful provision should 
 be olFered to all, in the most generous and liberal 
 manner. " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye 
 to the waters, and he that hath no money ; come ye, 
 buy wine and milk without money and M'ithout 
 price." And if we look into the history of the 
 evangelists, we shall see the prophecy accomplished 
 in its fullest extent. For we shall there find our 
 blessed Redeemer publishing the free and unlimited 
 offers of his grace, to all that were willing to 
 accept it. You cannot be strangers to the passages 
 I refer to : — Come unto me, all ye that labour and 
 are heavy laden, and I will give you rest : Him that 
 Cometh unto me, I will in no wise, or on no account 
 whatsoever, cast out : and in the text it is pro- 
 claimed, before the most numerous assembly, on a 
 most public occasion. If any man thirst, let him 
 come unto me, and drink. Can any invitation be 
 more general, more intelligible, more affecting, than 
 these ; Hardly should we have imagined it possible, 
 unless we had in some respects seen yet more 
 pathetic declarations than even those I have now 
 recited. Yes, my friends, our Lord Jesus Christ 
 knew the weakness of our minds, and seems to have 
 been aware of a foolish scruple which might possibly 
 arise in them. We might, perhaps, have been ready 
 to say, " the blessed Je.sus was indeed in a sur- 
 prising degree tender and compassionate, whilst he 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 thvclt OH caitli, and w as himself surrounded with all 
 the innocent inlirniities of our nature : but can vvc 
 be sure that he retains the same overllowing ten- 
 derness now lie is returned to the regions of glorj', 
 and surrounded Mitli all the dip;nity and pleasure 
 of so exalted a station, and all the emi)lo)nients 
 which attend so liigh an administration !" To ob- 
 viate even this suspicion, ungrounded as it is, he 
 has been pleased, since his ascension and exalta- 
 tion, to send us repeated messages of love ; and he 
 speaks from the throne of his glory in as conde- 
 scending and endearing language as he ever appears 
 to have used in his humblest abasement. And to 
 awaken our attention, and to confirm our faith, he 
 introduces the declaration with a very solemn pre- 
 face, of which tlie beloved disciple takes care to 
 give us a particular account. He said unto me. 
 Write, q. d. Let it be recorded for the instruction 
 and consolation of the remotest ages ; for these 
 words which I am now about to utter, are true and 
 faithful, and therefore may be entirely depended 
 upon, as the foundation of the most cheerful confi- 
 dence. And what are these important words ? And 
 he said. It is done : the great work is now accom- 
 plished, the redemption is complete : I am the Alpha 
 and the Omega, the beginning and the end, whose 
 nature and promises are for ever the same ; and in 
 consequence of all this, I will give to him that is 
 athirst, of the fountain of the water of life freely. To 
 the same purpose are those remarkable words in the 
 next chapter, so near the close of the canon of Scrip- 
 ture, I, Jesus, have sent mine angel, or messenger, to 
 testify these things unto the churches, as tilings in 
 which all the churches are most intimately con- 
 cerned ; and to give the greater weight to them, let 
 it be remembered, I am the root and the oflspring of 
 David, and the bright and morning star. And ob- 
 serve, whither so pompous an introduction tends, 
 and where it centres : The Spirit and the bride say. 
 Come : and let him that hcareth say. Come ; for 
 whoever he be, he may join in proclaiming the in- 
 vitation : Let him that is athirst conic ; and whoso- 
 ever will, let him take of the water of life freely. 
 My brethren, had our Lord allowed us, as it were, 
 to choose for ourselves, and to dictate to him in 
 what words he should express himself to us, to 
 silence every doubt, and to banish every fear, I 
 cannot imagine that w e could have found any more 
 expressive form of speech than this, Whosoever 
 will, let him come, and take of the water of life 
 freely. And can we suspect, that the Lord of truth 
 and of glory would speak a language foreign to his 
 heart ? tliat he would mock and delude unhappy 
 mortals with insincere proposals and airy hopes ? 
 That be far from him, and the thought be far from 
 us ! Hath he spoken, and shall he not do it ? Hath 
 he promised, and shall he not make it good .' But, 
 further, 
 
 2. Let tlic Spirit of Christ witness his readiness 
 to relieve thirsty souls. 
 
 I know there is a great deal of difference between 
 the common operations of the Spirit on the minds 
 of those who continue obstinate and impenitent, 
 and those special influences by which he sweetly, 
 but po« erfully, subdues the hearts of those who arc 
 chosen in Christ Jesus before the foundation of the 
 world. Yet I am persuaded, that none to whom 
 the gospel comes are utterly neglected by that sacred 
 agent. It is observable to this purpose, that Stephen 
 charges it upon the Jews, that they and their fathers 
 had always resisted the Holy Ghost. Now, this 
 charge of resisting him plainly supposed, that he 
 had still been striving with them ; for, if there had 
 been no attempt on the one hand, there could liave 
 been no resistance on the other. If, then, the Spi- 
 rit of God wrought in some degree on all the Jews, 
 throughout every age and period of their state, it 
 seems highly reasonable to believe, that he works 
 on those who enjoy the gospel now ; since this dis- 
 pensation, with special reference to the extraordi- 
 nary efl'usions of the Holy Ghost, is called by the 
 apostle, The law of the Spirit of life in Christ 
 Jesus. 
 
 For the further confirmation of this, I question 
 not but I might appeal to the experience of every 
 one that hears me this day. Surely none of you 
 that are come to years of discretion, have always 
 been unaffected with divine things. Some impres- 
 sions have been made, some convictions awakened, 
 some purposes formed : and in all these instances 
 God is drawing you, and the Spirit says. Come. 
 Now, as the Spirit operates under the direction of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, these calls of the Spirit are 
 to be considered as evidences of that readiness in 
 Christ to bestow the blessings of the gospel, which 
 I am now endeavouring to prove. 
 
 3. Let the tears of Christ witness his readiness to 
 relieve those who hunger and thirst after righteous- 
 ness. 
 
 If we have not some very inveterate suspicion of 
 a person's insincerity and artifice, we readily believe, 
 that his heart is touched when w e see the tears flow 
 from his eyes. Behold then the tears of a Redeemer 
 over perishing souls, and judge by them of the 
 compassions of his heart ! You know that cele- 
 brated instance, when he beheld Jerusalem and 
 wept over it. Our Lord w as then in a triumphant 
 procession, attended by acclamations of the people, 
 who were shouting, Hosanna to the Son of David: 
 and as for Jerusalem, which he beheld from the 
 mount of Olives, it was a city polluted witii enor- 
 mous crimes, and the abode of his most implacable 
 enemies, who were then actually conspiring his 
 murder, which he knew they would in a few days 
 cflcct. Justly might he have triumphed in that ap- 
 proaching ruin, which he knew a righteous God 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 803 
 
 would bring upon them, for that as well as their 
 other provocations. But behold his compassion ! 
 Instead of insulting, he weeps over them, and says, 
 If thou hadst knowii, even thou, in this thy day, 
 which even yet is continued, the things that belong 
 to thy peace ! — but now they are hid from thine 
 eyes. The natural broken language of genuine and 
 overflowing sorrow ! Surely nothing can be more 
 melting, than such tears, falling from such eyes, 
 and in such circumstances. And if our Lord could 
 not give up the impenitent sinners of Jerusalem 
 without weeping over them, surely he will not de- 
 spise the humble and penitent soul, who is, perhaps 
 with tears, seeking his favour, and flying to his 
 grace as his only refuge. 
 
 4. Let the blood of Christ witness, that he is ready 
 to impart the blessings of his gospel. 
 
 The tears of our blessed Redeemer must needs be 
 convincing and affecting, if the mind be not sunk 
 into an almost incredible stupidity ; but his blood 
 is still more so. View him, my brethren, not only 
 in the previous scenes of his abasement, his descent 
 from heaven, and his abode on earth ; but view him 
 on mount Calvary, extended on the cross, torn with 
 thorns, wounded with nails, pierced with a spear ; 
 and then say, whether there be not a voice in each 
 of these sacred wounds, which loudly proclaims the 
 tenderness of his heart, and demonstrates beyond 
 all possibility of dispute or suspicion, his readiness 
 to relieve the distressed soul, that cries to him for 
 the blessings of the gospel. He died to purchase 
 them, not for liimself, but for us ; and can it be 
 thought he will be unwilling to bestow them ? Wc 
 may well conclude that he loved us, since he shed 
 his blood to wash us from our sins ; for greater love 
 hath no man than this, that a man lay down his 
 life for his friends ; but he hath commended his 
 love towards us, hath set it ofl' by this illustrious 
 and surprising circumstance, that while we were 
 strangers and enemies, he hath died for us. 
 
 6. Let the experience of every pious soul, whether 
 on earth or in heaven, witness the readiness of 
 Christ to communicate the blessings of his gospel 
 for the relief of those who thirst for them. 
 
 Could we lift up our eyes to the regions of glory, 
 and count all the happy spirits which are arrived 
 there from these abodes of darkness and sorrow, we 
 should find in each of them an everlasting witness, 
 and monument, of the great truth I am now labour- 
 ing to assert. Should we behold them in their robes 
 of majesty, with their golden crowns, and their vic- 
 torious palms, and inquire, as the apostle did. Who 
 are these that are clothed in white robes, and from 
 whence do they come ? The answer would be the 
 same : These are they who are come out of great 
 tribulation, and they have washed their robes, and 
 made them white in the blood of the Lamb. They 
 have found him both a powerful and a eonipassion- 
 3 F 2 
 
 ate Saviour, and therefore they are fixed in a state 
 of undecaying felicity. And some of them could 
 confess even the blackest crimes, committed before 
 they were brought to an acquaintance with him ; but 
 they were no bars in the way of that grace, which is 
 extended and magnified, even to the chief of sinners. 
 
 The experience of the saints in heaven witnesseth 
 this ; and the experience of the saints on earth 
 doth as it were echo back their testimony. Would 
 you have living and visible witnesses ? Blessed be 
 God, they are not wanting: I hope, I may add, 
 they are not far distant ; and with regard to many 
 of you that hear me this day, I hope and trust, that 
 you have the witness within you. I doubt not, but 
 several in this assembly may say, As we have beard, 
 so have we seen and felt: many a one, that may 
 lay his hand on his breast, and cry out in the words 
 of the Psalmist, This poor man cried, and the 
 Lord heard him, and delivered him from all his 
 trouble, from that which was incomparably more 
 than all the rest. " Oppressed with a burthen of 
 grief and of fear, I threw myself at the feet of a 
 Redeemer, and he gently raised me ; he kindly 
 embraced me; he smiled upon my soul, and said, 
 by the voice of his blessed Spirit, Be of good cheer, 
 thy sins are forgiven thee." What can we oppose 
 to such a cloud of witnesses ? Let us cheerfully 
 admit the evidence. Let us joyfully trust the power 
 and the grace of him, who this day renews his com- 
 passionate invitation, and says, and crieth, as in 
 the text. If any man thirst, let him come unto me, 
 and drink. 
 
 III. I conclude with a more particular appli- 
 cation. 
 
 And here I would address myself, — to those who 
 do not yet thirst after gospel-blessings, — to those 
 who are now thirsting after them, — and to those 
 who have already received some refreshment. 
 
 1. Let me apply myself to those who do not yet 
 thirst after the blessings of the gospel. 
 
 And are there none of that character among 
 you ? Are there none in this assembly, who hear 
 me with negligence and coldness, and know in 
 their own conscience tliat the bent of their desires 
 and pursuits is directed quite another way .' — My 
 friends, I have a message from God to you ; and I 
 would entreat you, that you would suffer your con- 
 sciences to answer these two questions, plain in- 
 deed, but of infinite importance, — Are not the 
 Idessings which Christ offers, worth thirsting for? 
 — And is not the time approaching, when, if you 
 persist in your present neglect, you will fliirst for 
 them in vain ? 
 
 Are your souls sunk into so degenerate a taste, 
 and are you so divested of the common reason of 
 men, as not to see, that the lilcssings proposed are 
 highly excellent, and well worthy the most ardent 
 desire, and the most vigorous pursuit, of every 
 
804 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 guilty vcl immortal creature? Is il not truly desir- 
 able, that our j;iiilt should be caneellcd, that the 
 displeasure of God should be averted, and his fa- 
 vour secured ? and that our souls should be puri- 
 fied, stren{;thened, and supported by divine conso- 
 lations, now, until they are conducted to a state of 
 everiastin<>; happiness? Is it not desirable, that a 
 creature made for a perpetual duration, should 
 have some more stable and permanent happiness 
 than this mortal life ? 
 
 You know in your own consciences, that these 
 thing;s are truly desirable : and would to God you 
 would seriously compare them with those vain cares, 
 and those sordid pleasures, for the sake of which 
 you neglect and despise them. How utterly con- 
 temptible would those cares and pleasures appear ! 
 How unworthy even of a mention or a thought when 
 brought into such a comparison ! 
 
 But let me further inquire, is not the time ap- 
 proaching, when you will thirst for these blessings 
 in vain ? You are now insensible of your need of 
 them, and lose yourselves in a variety of amusing 
 dreams, in which you fancy you are possessed of 
 some considerable happiness. But, wretched crea- 
 tures, in a few years at most death will awaken you ; 
 and then you will know the value of those bless- 
 ings which you now despise ; then you will feel an 
 insatiable thirst after them. Your ease will then 
 appear exactly like that described by the prophet, 
 As when a hungry man dreamcth, and behold he 
 eateth ; but he awaketh, and is not satisfied ; or as 
 when a thirsty man dreamcth, and behold he 
 drinketh ; but he awaketh, and behold he is faint, 
 and his soul hath appetite. The appetites of 
 your souls after those valuable refreshments will 
 then be excited ; but, alas ! they will be excited 
 only to torment you. It is a most melancholy 
 case which is represented in the parable, of a 
 poor creature, who, after he had passed his life in 
 the midst of the most overflowing plenty, was at 
 length plunged into a state of indigence and misery, 
 from which he beheld Abraham afar off, and Laza- 
 rus in his bosom ; and he cried, saying. Father 
 Abraham, have mercy on mc, and send Lazarus 
 that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and 
 cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this llamc. 
 It seemed a very modest petition ; he could hardly 
 have asked a smaller favour than a drop of water ; 
 and there seemed something peculiarly mortifying, 
 in receiving it from the finger of Lazarus ; and yet 
 you know, l)y the sequel of the story, that even this 
 was denied him. This is the representation, which 
 our Redeemer himself hath given us, of the con- 
 dition of sinners in the eternal world : and will it 
 not be a dreadful condition to you? especially 
 when aggravated by those rivers of living water 
 which once surrounded you, artd by this gracious 
 proclamation, so often repeated, and .so often de- 
 
 spised ; If any man thirst, let him come unto me, 
 and drink. 
 
 2. I would address myself to those who arc now 
 thirsting for the blessings of the gospel. 
 
 I hope, through grace, there are some such 
 amongst you ; some, whose thirst is excited by what 
 hath now been spoken, and are borrowing the words 
 of David, in a sublimer sense than that in which 
 they were originally intended ; O that one would 
 give mc to drink of the water of the well of Beth- 
 lehem ! O that I might taste of those delightful 
 streams which flow from the Rock of ages ! To you, 
 my friends, I would briefly say,— Consider the thirst 
 you feel as a token for good, — and be importunate 
 in your addresses to him who is so able and willing 
 to grant a supply. 
 
 You may consider the thirst which you feel as a 
 token for good. The generality of mankind despise 
 these blessings : and why do you desire them ? Surely 
 you may consider these desires as of a heavenly 
 original. It is the voice of Christ that is now 
 speaking ; it is the Spirit of Christ that is now 
 pleading with your heart ; so that I may say to you, 
 as was said to the blind man in the gospel, who was 
 so earnestly begging a cure, Be of good comfort, 
 rise, he calleth thee. What can therefore remain, 
 but that you should immediately apply yourselves to 
 him. Go directly, and plead the case with him. 
 Prostrate thyself, O humble penitent ; prostrate 
 thyself before his throne, and say, " Blessed Jesus, 
 thou that knowest all things, knowest that I thirst 
 after the blessings of thy gospel. Thou seest that 
 I most ardently long for the pardon of sin, the 
 favour of God, the influences of thy Spirit, and the 
 glories of thine heavenly kingdom. I am fully 
 persuaded, that with regard to all these thou art 
 able to do for me abundantly above all I can ask or 
 think. And wilt thou not relieve me ? Wilt thou 
 not give me to drink? Wherefore, then, are thine 
 invitations published in the gospel? Wherefore 
 didst tlioa proclaim those gracious words, which 
 have been this day so frequently repeated in thine 
 house ? Why does thy Spirit even now work upon 
 my heart, and raise there this fervency of desire? 
 Wherefore didst thou weep ? Wherefore didst thou 
 bleed ? Wherefore didst thou die, if thou hadst no 
 compassion for perishing sinners? But thou hast 
 compassion ; thou hast already extended it to thou- 
 sands on earth and millions in heaven. Lord, I 
 believe; help thou my unbelief! I throw myself at 
 thy feet ; nor can I fear I shall perish there, unless j 
 infinite power be weakened, and infinite love be ' 
 exhausted." If but one soul return from the a.ssem- 
 bly with these sentiments, and these resolutions, 
 all the labours of this day, and many former days, i 
 will be abundantly repaid ; for that soul will surely , 
 be relieved, and God in Christ be glorified and ex- 
 alted. And now. 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 803 
 
 3. I would conclude, with addressing myself to 
 those who have already tasted these refreshments. 
 With regard to such I would offer the following 
 exhortations. 
 
 Be thankful for the refreshments you have al- 
 ready received. Bless God, that such merciful 
 provision is made in the gospel, for the relief and 
 comfort of necessitous creatures ; and above all, be 
 thankful, that you have been engaged to seek and 
 to prize it, while so many are, as it were, dying for 
 thirst, in the midst of these overflowing streams. 
 It is said of Hagar, that when she was almost 
 perishing in the wilderness, the Lord opened her 
 eyes, and she saw a fountain of water. So it is in 
 your case : the Lord hath opened your eyes, and 
 therefore you have seen this fountain. 
 
 Be solicitous, that others may taste those refresh- 
 ments which have been imparted to you. It is said 
 of Hagar, in the passage cited above, that when 
 God had discovered this supply, she not only drank 
 herself, but gave to her child, and he also drank. 
 So should you, my friends, be charitably concerned 
 for the happiness of others as well as for your own. 
 You that are parents should be concerned, that 
 your children may drink ; and you that are masters, 
 that your servants may drink ; and all, that your 
 friends and neighbours may be refreshed. For, 
 blessed be God, there is no danger of s-inking this 
 river by repeated plentiful draughts : still would it 
 flow on, still would it overflow its borders, though 
 not only we, but all the inhabitants of the earth, 
 should not merely taste it, but live upon it. Which 
 leads me to add. 
 
 Continue your application to Christ for further 
 supplies. We are told, that the miraculous .stream 
 ; -which flowed from the rock attended the Israelites 
 I in their various removes. They still drank of the 
 ' Rock that followed them, and that Rock was Christ. 
 I Such are the waters that flow from the Rock of 
 Ages ; they do not only refresh the soul on its first 
 conversion, but they aflf)rd it daily comfort and 
 support. Be con.stant therefore in your applications 
 to Christ, and diligent in the use of all appointed 
 means for deriving influences from him. 
 
 To conclude all, long after the heavenly world, 
 where you shall receive a more abundant supply. 
 The waters which followed Israel through the wil- 
 derness, failed wiien they came into an inhabited 
 land : but this river of life will never forsake the 
 believer; it will flow with him sweetly through the 
 dark valley of the shadow of death, till it spreads 
 itself into wider and deeper streams, in the iovcly 
 regions of the heavenly Canaan. Thus are we told, 
 that in the New Jerusalem the river of the water of 
 
 life proceedeth from the throne of God and of the 
 Lamb. And thus our Lord assures the woman of 
 Samaria, Whosoever drinketh of the water that I 
 shall give him, shall never thirst ; but it shall be in 
 him as a well of water springing up into ever- 
 lasting life. What then remains, but that we each 
 of us cry out, as she did. Lord, give us of this living 
 water, that we may thirst no more, nor come, as now, 
 to these ordinances to draw ! Amen. 
 
 A HYMN. 
 I. 
 
 The Lord of life exalted stands. 
 Aloud he cries, and spreads his hands : 
 He calls ten thousand sinners round. 
 And sends a voice from every wound. 
 IL 
 
 " Attend, all ye that thirst, draw near. 
 And satiate all your wishes here ! 
 Behold the living fountain flows 
 In streams as various as your woes ! 
 III. 
 
 " An ample pardon here I give, 
 And bid the sentenced rebel live ; 
 Show him my Father's smiling face. 
 And lodge him in his dear embrace. 
 IV. 
 
 " I purge from sin's detested stain, 
 And make the crimson white again ; 
 Lead to celestial joys refined, 
 .\nd lasting as the deathless mind. 
 V. 
 
 " Must I anew my pity prove? 
 Witness the words of melting love. 
 The gushing tear, the labouring breath, 
 And all these scars of bleeding death." 
 VI. 
 
 Blessed Saviour, I can doubt no more; 
 I hear, and wonder, and adore : 
 Panting I seek that fountain-head, 
 Whence waters so divine proceed. 
 VII. 
 
 Clear spring of life ! flow on, and roll 
 With growing swell from pole to pole, 
 'Till flowers and fruits of paradise 
 Round all thy winding current rise ! 
 
 vin. 
 
 Still near fliy stream may I be found. 
 Long as I tread this earthly ground ! 
 Cheer with thy wave death's gloomy shade ; 
 Then through the fields of Canaan spread ! 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 THE GUILT AND DOOM OF CAPERNAUM. 
 
 PREFACE, 
 
 Relative to the unful event of the seeond shock of an Earthqvake, in London, March 8, 1749-50. The 
 Sermon teas preached at Sailers Hall, Avijust 20, 1749. 
 
 This plain sermon wliich I now ofler to the public, was preached to a very large and attentive auditory, 
 the last Lord's day that I spent in London, from such hints as my many cnj^agrcments in town would 
 permit me to prcj)are ; and it was delivered, with those genuine marks of deep impression on niy own 
 mind, which often do more to command regard to a preacher, than any accuracies of composition. It 
 was judged so suitahle to the state of things in that city, by sonic who had long enjoyed opportunities 
 of knowing it much better than myself, and for whose judgment I had a great regard, that I was imme- 
 diately desired with some importunity to send it to tiie press : but I tliought I had then suflicicnt reasons 
 for putting a negati\ e upon tliat request ; especially arising from my desire of despatching, with all 
 convenient speed, the remaining volumes of the Family Expositor ; a work which, having finished in 
 short-hand, I am now transcribing for the press, and which I never intermit for one day. But what has 
 so lately passed in London, has renewed such a solicitous concern in my mind for its inhabitants, 
 amongst whom I have so large a number of valuable friends, that it has suggested to me the thought, 
 and after a little deliberation the resolution, of doing that unasked, which before I had resolutely 
 declined. 
 
 Considering the lethargic state of so many souls, I have long thought it the prudence of Christian 
 ministers, to improve those public alarms, which remarkable providences may excite in the minds of 
 considerable numbers, by renewing those plain and earnest remonstrances, which in calmer life men are 
 so ready to neglect. I doubt not, but whilst I was yesterday representing these things to my own 
 congregation, that many of my brethren in the city (and I look on all the ministers of Christ as my 
 brethren) were wisely availing themselves of the consternation into which so many were thrown on 
 Thursday morning ; and that \ery suitable things were said, of which some will soon be made public. 
 Yet I cannot but hope, that the perusal of what so many hundreds heard, before an earthquake was 
 thought of by them or by me, and when there was nothing uncommon to awaken an attention, may have 
 its peculiar weight. I hope it will renew the impressions which were formerly made on the hearers, 
 and communicate (as such truths are now so evidently suitable) the like impressions to many more. I 
 know not, that I have myself been more awfully afl'ected with any sermon I have published or preached: 
 I may say, in a literal sense, that I have transcribed it ^\ith tears and trembling, and that horror hath 
 taken hold upon mc in the review of what is here represented. I am not aware of having made any 
 material alteration in the substance of the Discourse, especially in its most interesting parts; though 
 I cannot pretend to answer for it, that every sentence is just as it was delivered. But I hope that I 
 shall be excused, if in the remainder of this Preface, I add a kind of supplement to Ihe Sermon, and 
 address myself to the inhabitants of London, (for whom I am under so many obligations to be tenderly 
 concerned,) in such a manner as I might have done, had this Discourse been delivered among them 
 immediately after that shock, by which I assuredly know that many were thrown into such great and 
 just consternation. 
 
 You have now. Sirs, very lately had repeated and surprising demonstrations of the Almighty jiower of 
 that infinite and adorable Being, whom, in the midst of your various hurries and amusements, you are so 
 ready to forget. His hand hath once and again witiiin these five weeks lifted up your mighty city from 
 its basis, and shook its million of inhabitants, in all their dwellings. Tiie palaces of the great, yea, even 
 of the greatest, have not been exempted ; that the princes of the land might be wise, and its judges and 
 lawgivers might receive instruction. And is not the voice of this eRrth(|uake like that of the angel in 
 the Apocalypse, flying in the midst of heaven, and having the everlasting gospel, saying with a loud 
 voice. Fear God, and give glory to him, and worship him that made heaven and earth f Who would not 
 indeed fear him, who lookctli on the earth and it trcmbleth, and in whose hand are its deep places ? 
 
 I suppose what you have so lately felt to be the result of natural causes ; but remember, they were 
 causes disposed by Him, who, from the day in which he founded our island, and laid the foundations of 
 the earth, knew every circumstance of their operation, with infinitely more certainty, than the most 
 skilful engineer the disposition and success of a mine, which he hath prepared and directed, and which 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 807 
 
 he fires in the appointed moment. And do not your hearts meditate terror? Especially wlicn you con- 
 sider how much London liath done, and even you yourselves have done, to provoke the eyes of his holi- 
 ness, and awaken the vengeance of his almighty arm ! The second shock was it seems more dreadful than 
 the first ; and may not the third be yet more dreadful than the second ? So that this last may seem as a 
 merciful signal to prepare — for what may with the most terrible propriety be called an untimely grave 
 indeed ; a grave that shall receive the living with the dead. Have you never read of streets, and towns, 
 and cities, overthrown in a few moments, and of many thousands of inhabitants, great and small, who 
 have gone down alive into the pit ? And can you be secure, because these horrible devastations have 
 hitherto happened chiefly in more southern climates, that they shall be confined entirely to them ? Can 
 any of you be secure, even while you are reading these lines, that the ground may not tremble and reel 
 under you ; that the houses already twice shaken within these few weeks, may not now fall and crush 
 you beneath their ruins .' And will any of you go on to forget God, and to make light of that eternal sal- 
 vation which has so awful a counterpart in eternal destruction ? Oh, think of what you have lately felt ! 
 And think, whether in that amazing moment you could have done any thing material to prepare for an- 
 other world, if eternity had depended upon that momentary preparation ! A shriek of wild consternation, 
 a cry as you were sinking, — the Lord have mercy upon us ! — would probably have been of very little 
 significancy to those that have so long despised mercy, and would not have thought of asking it but in 
 the last extremity : and yet nothing moie could have been expected in the circumstance we have been 
 supposing. 
 
 Let me then beseech those that have neglected religion, to think more attentively of it ; and those that 
 trifle in it, more seriously to lay it to heart. Let me beseech the families that call not upon God's name, 
 to think how righteously judgment might be commissioned to enter the houses, where prayer cannot 
 (after all the importunity so often used) be admitted as a guest. While yet you seem as it were to feel 
 your whole city moving, let me take so uncommon an opportunity of reminding you all, how important 
 it is to secure a kingdom that cannot be moved, to secure everlasting habitations to receive you there, 
 since your dwellings here, how strong and magnificent soever, are thus evidently precarious. I am well 
 aware, that terrors alone are not sufficient to introduce the Lord Jesus Christ, and the cfiicacy of his gos- 
 pel, into your hearts ; but like the awful ministry of John the Baptist, they may prepare his way. An 
 external reformation they may more probably produce ; and whatever some may have incautiously 
 asserted to the contrary, I cannot but think that is one considerable step towards the other. If therefore 
 this alarming convulsion of the earth, which has made your houses totter, may so far shake your hearts, 
 as to procure a remedy to the most crying evils, I shall hope, not only that the further judgments of God 
 on so sinful a nation may be diverted, but that many who have been disobedient to the wisdom of the 
 just may be found, in the noblest and most important sense, a people prepared unto the Lord. We may 
 cheerfully hope it, — if the great will exert themselves to remedy the visible contempt of public and do- 
 mestic worship, the undisguised violation of the sabbath both at home and abroad, and that licentious- 
 ness of behaviour so common among their servants, which generally renders those profligate creatures 
 the shame of their masters' houses, the nuisance of the neighbourhood around them, and the scourge and 
 ruin of the families they afterwards form ; — if magistrates maintain the decorum of their own characters, 
 and vigorously exert themselves to chastise, and, so far as the strenuous execution of the law may effect it, 
 to eradicate, those audacious enormities, which seem to glory in a superiority to it ; enormities so affronting 
 >D God and to our rulers, so infamous to our country, and so pernicious to public order and private safety ; 
 — if ministers, laying aside those subtle trifles, which so soon evaporate into air, and sometimes gene- 
 rate very noxious vapours, will deal plainly and earnestly with their hearers, as with persons who are 
 daily upon the borders of eternity, and will carry that ardent concern for their salvation, which should 
 always breathe from their pulpits, into the families they visit ;— if the rising generation he diligently in- 
 structed in the genuine principles of religion, guarded against the efleminacy, luxury, and vanity of the 
 age, and inured from tender years to habits of frugality, sobriety, and industry :— in a word, if that eager 
 resort to places of public entertainment, in which .so many heads of families are shamefully consuming 
 their time, squandering away their substance, (if it be indeed theirs,) and daily increasing their disin- 
 clination to business, and servitude to pleasure, be forborne by themselves, be forbidden to their de- 
 pendents. 
 
 Would men be persuaded to live like rational creatures, we should be encouraged in our hope of their 
 •becoming sincere Christians ; would they practise the rules of prudence and virtue, objections against 
 religion would fall off like withered leaves, remonstrances in its favour would be heard with attention, 
 and our winter would soon be changed into a delightful spring. It is for this purpose that the voice of 
 the Lord crieth to the city, by these repeated earthquakes, which have so peculiarly affected it, and the 
 sound of which has been so terrible : for this doth it cry to the country, in the grievous distemper that 
 continues to rage among our cattle ; inconsequence of which so many pastures are desolate, so many 
 industrious families of the poor ruined, and the rich themselves greatly distressed, while their estates are 
 thrown untenanted upon their hands; and considerable landholders in some of the breeding counties, 
 know not where to get beasts for their money to stock them. For these purposes indeed dotli the voice of 
 the Lord in each of these dispensations cry to us all ; for neither is the city unconcerned in the interests 
 of the country, nor the country in those of the city : the man of wisdom will hear it ; the man of true piety 
 and benevolence will be willing in his proper sphere to echo it back. 
 
 The connexions in which Providence has placed me, and (I would mention it with all huml)le thank- 
 fulness) the unexpected blessing with which God has been pleased to crown some of my writings, have 
 led me to think it my duty to concur with my brethren in this attempt, and to hasten what little I could 
 do in It as much as possible. It may be, that this commotion of the waters may bring some draught 
 under the net of the gospel : it seems at least a time for the fishers of men to be active ; and if, in a day 
 
808 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 of sucli sreneral insensibility, peradventtuc one soul may be caught by this labour of a night, (as it is 
 very little more,) I siiall not esteem it a small matter; for no everlasting interest is small. My work at 
 least is with the Lord, to w hom I trust my motives are approved ; and my mind eould not have been 
 easy, had so remarkable a crisis been entirely neglected by me. I commit it with all humility to the 
 blessing of (Jod, and the prayers of my Christian friends, especially of those resident in the city, for 
 whose benelit it was peculiarly intended. 
 
 Northampton, March 12, 1749-50. P. DODDRIDGE, 
 
 Matthew xi. 23, 24. 
 
 A nd t/ioti. Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, 
 shalt he hrnvr/ht down to hell : for if the mujhtij 
 works which haue been done in thee had been done 
 i« Sodom, it wonld have remained until this day. 
 But I say unto you. That it shall be more tolerable 
 
 for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment, thaii 
 
 for thee. 
 
 Do any of you. Sirs, ask who it is that speaks in 
 this awful, in this majestic language? who it is, 
 that menaces a city of Israel with judgments more 
 tremendous than those of Sodom ? You may on a 
 little reflection answer yourselves. It is a prophet 
 mighty in word and in deed, the greatest, beyond 
 all comparison the greatest, of all the prophets, 
 even the Son of God, whose peculiar prerogative it 
 was to take the book of the divine decrees, and to 
 open its seals. It was he, to whom authority was 
 given to pronounce and to execute judgment ; from 
 whom Sodom and Capernaum were to receive their 
 final doom, and from whom we also are to expect 
 ours. Let us hear him, as their judge, and as our 
 own : and O that this tremendous message may 
 awaken us, to implore his favour; may awaken as 
 many of us as are in danger of the wrath to come, 
 to flee to him that we may be delivered from it, be- 
 fore the word be gone forth in righteousness, before 
 the sentence be sealed ! 
 
 You can none of you imagine the subject I am 
 now proposing to your meditations, unsuitable to 
 the age in which we live, unsuitable to the circum- 
 stances of our native country in general, or of the 
 place in which I now stand : but you may perhaps 
 be more fully aware of the suitableness of it, before 
 I come to the close of my Discourse. 
 
 If a very attentive inquiry has not deceived me, 
 these words were spoken by our Lord towards the 
 close of the second year of his ministry, that is, 
 between the second and third of the passovers 
 which occurred during the course of it ; a little be- 
 fore he set out on that circuit, for which he sent out 
 the twelve to prepare his way. A very considerable 
 part of his time before this period had been spent 
 in Galilee, and especially in those parts of it which 
 were near the Sea of Tiberias. On this occasion 
 
 Chorazin and Bcthsaida had been frequently blessed 
 with his presence ; but Capernaum had been dis- 
 tinguished from all the rest by this inestimable 
 privilege, as you will afterwards hear. It is no 
 wonder therefore, that he tliougiit proper to upbraid 
 all these cities for their continued unbelief and im- 
 penitcney ; and that Capernaum, which had been so 
 distinguished by the favours he had conferred upon 
 it, should be threatened with distinguished calamity 
 and ruin. He began to upbraid tiie cities in which 
 most of his mighty works were done, because they 
 repented not: Woe unto thee, Chorazin, woe unto 
 thee, Betbsaida ; for if the mighty works which 
 were done in you, had been done in Tyre and 
 Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sack- 
 cloth and ashes : but I say unto you. It shall be 
 more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of 
 judgment, than for you. This was saying much ; 
 but as the privileges of Capernaum had been still 
 greater, its doom is yet more awful : " And thou, 
 Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt 
 be brought down to hell ; for if the mighty works 
 which have been done in thee had been done 
 in Sodom, it would have remained until this day : 
 but I say unto you, that it shall be more tolerable 
 for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment, than 
 for thee." In which words it may be proper for us 
 to consider, 
 
 I. The privileges Capernaum had enjoyed, and 
 the distinctions which had been made in its favour. 
 
 II. Its ungrateful abuse of these distinguished 
 favours of providence and of grace. 
 
 III. The dreadful doom which it righteously in- 
 curred by that abuse. And after the survey of these 
 particulars, we shall 
 
 Conclude with a few hints of plain and serious 
 application. 
 
 And you, men of Britain, and inhabitants of 
 London, judge I pray you this day between Christ 
 and Capernaum ; and say, whether there was any 
 unjust severity in the sentence he passed upon it. 
 Hear attentively, and judge impartially; but take 
 heed, lest while you judge others you condemn 
 yourselves. Let us consider, 
 
 I. The privileges Capernaum had enjoyed, and 
 the distinctions which had been made in its favour. 
 
 And here I would observe, it had been distin- 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 809 
 
 guished by temporal advantages, — but much more, 
 by spiritual privileges and opportunities. 
 
 I. It had been distinguished by the temporal ad- 
 vantages of a rich and flourishing city. 
 
 Such we are told it was; and in this sense it was 
 exalted unto heaven ; a phrase, by which the great- 
 ness of Nebuchadnezzar's kingdom is described. 
 
 The land of Israel in general was a rich and 
 pleasant land, which tlie all-surveying eye of God 
 had spied out, as he himself expresses it, for his 
 favourite people : and this elegant city lay upon the 
 confines of Zebulun, and of Naphtali ; concerning 
 the former of v.hich tribes it was foretold, that it 
 should suck of the abundance of the sea, and of 
 treasures hid in the sand ; and concerning the lat- 
 ter, that it should be satisfied with favour, and full 
 with the blessing of the Lord ; possessing by this 
 situation the west and the south, though it lay 
 towards the north-east part of the land : a prophecy 
 remarkably verified by those advantages, which 
 Jordan and the Sea of Galilee gave it, for maintain- 
 ing a commerce with those parts. It lay also in the 
 near neighbourhood of Asher, of whom it was pre- 
 dicted, that his bread should be fat, that he ghould 
 yield royal dainties, and dip his feet in oil. 
 
 And what is particularly worthy of our present 
 notice, Capernaum was situated in the land of 
 Gennesareth, one of the most delicious spots of 
 ground in the whole Jewish territories. Josephus 
 has given us a very particular description of it, 
 which shows how properly that tract of land had the 
 name of Gennesareth, which may well signify the 
 garden of a prince ; (according to the import of Gen 
 Sar, from whence it seems to be derived ;) for he 
 tells us,* " that it was plentifully watered by a most 
 delicious spring, that went by the name of Caper- 
 naum, and everything flourished about it: the air 
 seemed, not only to nourish, but to preserve, the 
 fruits produced there ; so that there were figs and 
 grapes for ten months in the year, and other kinds of 
 fruits all the year round ; and by a very peculiar 
 felicity, nuts, palms, and figs, and olives, though 
 they required generally a very difl'erent situation, 
 all abounded there in great plenty." 
 
 To this we may add, that it had also some par- 
 ticular advantages for commerce, being situated 
 (according to the most accurate geographers) near 
 that mouth of Jordan, by which it emptied itself 
 into the sea of Galilee ; the city of Capernaum 
 lying on its western shore, as Chorazin its opposite 
 neighbour did on its eastern. In consequence of 
 this, it would lie directly in the way of those who 
 came from Damascus and Cwsarea Philippi to 
 Jerusalem, and the southern parts of the country ; 
 or of those that went from thence, to those very 
 celebrated cities, and others in their much frequent- 
 ed neighbourhood. 
 
 ♦ Joscnli. <lc Bell. Jud. lib. iii. cap. 10. } 8. 
 
 It is therefore no wonder, if with all these advan- 
 tages it became a very flourishing place ; no wonder, 
 if its buildings were magnificent, its inhabitants 
 rich, its gardens delicious, and its manners polite ; 
 no wonder, if they that dwelt in Capernaum thought, 
 the lines were fallen to them in pleasant places. 
 They had special reason to do so, if we consider, 
 
 2. How much more eminently it was distinguished 
 by spiritual privileges. 
 
 It had, we find, its synagogues for public worship ; 
 but, what was its peculiar glory, it had Jesus to 
 preach in them, and to confirm his doctrine by 
 wonderful works. There is hardly a place in the 
 whole land, except it be Jerusalem, of which we 
 read so much in the account which the evangelists 
 have given us of our Saviour's life. He went down 
 to Capernaum, with his mother and brethren and 
 disciples, and continued there awhile, in the very 
 opening of his mini.strj', after he had tunied the 
 water into wine at the neighbouring town of Cana 
 in Galilee. It is not improbable, he took it in his 
 way from Judea to Nazareth, when he was return- 
 ing from his first passover ; and wc are expressly 
 told, that leaving Nazareth, when so base and un- 
 grateful an attempt was made upon his life there, 
 he came and dwelt in Capernaum. And though he 
 left that place quickly after, (when importuned to 
 stay,) that he might pursue his business in other 
 parts of Galilee ; yet when that circuit was done, 
 be returned thither again, continuing there, as it 
 seems, till his second passover. We find him in 
 that neighbourhood again, presently after that 
 passover ; and such was his love to it, that notwith- 
 standing the impenitence he here laments, he after- 
 wards visited it again and again. 
 
 During these repeated sojournings amongst them, 
 we may assure ourselves, that he gave them the 
 most excellent instructions, preaching repentance, 
 as the kingdom of heaven was approaching. We 
 know, that he spake as never man si)ake ; and here 
 no doubt, as every where else, his words were as 
 awful as tho^' were gracious and endearing. We 
 likewise know, that his instructions were every 
 where illustrated by the commanding force of a most 
 amiable, and in him a most perfect, example. And 
 to all this, to the discourses he delivered, and the 
 consummate pattern which he gave of universal 
 goodness, was added the weight of many most 
 astonishing miracles; with reference to whicli it 
 seems, that no other place was equally distin- 
 guished. 
 
 The wonderful works which Christ had done at 
 Capernaum, are spoken of by himself, as known to 
 all the inhabitants of Nazareth ; who were therefore 
 ready to say. Whatsoever we have heard done in 
 Capernaum, do also here in thine own country : 
 and many more were done after that. At Caper- 
 naum he healed the nobleman's son, while he was 
 
 I 
 
810 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 liiinself nt a distance in Cana: at Capernaum he 
 cast out a devil in the public synagogue on a sab- 
 bath-day : at Capernaum he cured Peter's wife's 
 mother of a fever: at Capernaum they brought to 
 him all that were diseased, and tliem that were 
 possessed with devils ; yea, all tliat had any sick 
 with divers diseases brought them unto him ; and 
 he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed 
 them : at Capernmim it was, that tlie power of the 
 Lord was present to heal great numbers, before the 
 Pharisees and doctors of the law, who were come 
 thither out of every town of Galilee and Judca to a 
 place which was become so illustrious: and it was 
 here, and in the midst of this assembly, that he 
 cured the paralytic, who was let down by cords into 
 tlie place, to which they could get no other access 
 but from the top of the house. It was here also, at 
 Capernaum, that he cured the centurion's servant, 
 before he came under the roof where he was ; and 
 in another visit, some time after these words in 
 the text were spoken, it was here that he cured the 
 woman by tlie touch of his garment, and'raised the 
 daughter of .Jairus to life. 
 
 This is a brief and imperfect view of the advan- 
 tages Capernaum enjoyed : how justly therefore 
 w ith respect to these might it be said, it was exalted 
 unto lieaven ! How reasonably might it have been 
 expected then, that Capernaum, thus divinely 
 taught, thus miraculously relieved, should have 
 been remarkable for its diligent attention to the 
 doctrines of our Lord, and its ready obedience to his 
 gospel ! But alas, w e cannot forget the connexion 
 in w liich these advantages have been surveyed ; and 
 it must be the business of our next general, to 
 consider, 
 
 IL The abuse of these privileges ; for wretchedly 
 abused they were. 
 
 It is expressly said here, that they repented not : 
 which implies, — that many sins were to be found 
 among them ; — and thattliey would not be reformed 
 under all the endeavours wliicli the Son of God 
 himself thought proper to use for that,purpose. 
 
 1. It is certain, that many sins were to be found 
 among them. 
 
 They could not otherwise have stood in such need 
 of repentance, as to have been obnoxious to so 
 dreadful a sentence for their impenitence. Guilty 
 they undoubtedly were of many evils, but we can- 
 not certainly pronounce as to the particulars : pro- 
 bably they were sucli as are commonly to be found 
 in opulent and elegant cities, where the materials 
 of luxury abound, and temptations to it are multi- 
 plied. 
 
 We may reasonably suppose, that irrcligion led 
 on the train here, as it docs wherever iniquity 
 abounds. Perhaps the worship of God might be 
 neglected, and that neglect lay at the door of every 
 other evil and enormity. The synagogues might be 
 
 unfrequented, especially by the rich and the great ; 
 unless when curiosity drew them thither, on the 
 same principles as those on which it might have 
 drawn tliem to a theatre : and though the terrors of 
 the law, that liung over their heads, might prevent 
 tliat breach of the sabbath, which it pronounced a 
 capital olVence, yet it is highly probable, that it 
 miglit be a day of idleness and diversion, and in no 
 other view might be called a delight ; so that being 
 perverted from its original purpose, it turned into 
 an occasion of mischief, rather than of benefit, and 
 left them more sensual and vicious than it found 
 them. 
 
 Perhaps amidst their many merchants the balances 
 of deceit might be in their hands ; the arts of dis- 
 honest gain miglit be practised, till every sense of 
 their infamy was lost, amidst the numbers by which 
 they were countenanced ; till their palaces were 
 cemented by the tears of oppressed widows and 
 orphans, " the stone crying out of the wall, and the 
 beam from the timber answering it." 
 
 More certainly still may we reckon upon it, that 
 the fatal arts of luxury reigned in Capernaum: 
 ostentatious ornaments of dress and furniture, ex- 
 quisite food, rich wines, and not improbably, con- 
 certs of music and other theatrical entertainments, 
 (which we know Herod introduced into some of 
 their cities,) drawing the world after them, and 
 employing the great when their minds should have 
 been occupied about the affairs of the public ; per- 
 haps too intoxicating those in common life, and 
 leading them to forget the cares, and interrupt the 
 labours, upon which their own subsistence and that 
 of their families depended, and so bringing upon 
 their families a ruin that w ould not have so much 
 as the consolation of being pitied ; at once exhaust- 
 ing the substance and corrupting the taste of the 
 rising generation. Wretched ollspring of cruelly- 
 indulgent parents ! who instead of being trained 
 up in the fear of the Lord, in the methods of a wise, 
 virtuous, and pious education, might have their 
 minds broken by cfTcminacy, and a thousand arti- 
 ficial wants created, when perhaps tlicre might 
 hardly be enough left from the ravages of luxury 
 to supply tlie necessities of nature. Tliey would 
 no doubt grow up exorbitant, petulant, and auda- 
 cious ; ignojant of every art but that of corrupting 
 and injuring others, of every science but that of 
 deriding the little remainder of religion and virtue, 
 tliat might be found in the midst of so general a 
 wreck. Alas, what an inheritance laid up for 
 them! But whatever the offences of Capernaum 
 were, it is to be remembered, 
 
 2. That they would not reform under all the cflbrts 
 which Christ used with them for that purpose. 
 
 The Son of God himself was among them ; a wise 
 reprover, but it was on disobedient ears. Neither 
 his remonstrances, nor his example, nor his mira- 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 811 
 
 cles, would make any lasting impression upon 
 them. Perhaps there were those, who would not 
 condescend to give him the hearing ; they thought 
 themselves wise and polite in looking with con- 
 tempt upon the man of Nazareth, and would not 
 give themselves the trouble of inquiring into what 
 seemed to tliem so incredible a tale, as that of his 
 miracles ; or if the evidence forced itself upon their 
 minds, had laid down certain favouiite maxims to 
 themselves, and resolved to reject every thing in- 
 consistent with them, whatever wretched shifts they 
 might make to do it: nay, it seems manifest, that 
 here that blasphemous suggestion was advanced, 
 that he cast out devils by the prince of the devils. 
 There might be others more decent, who yet heard 
 in vain : if they wondered at the gracious words 
 which proceeded out of his mouth, those words 
 were to them but as the lovely song of one that 
 hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an in- 
 strument ; they heard them, but they would not do 
 them : or if any impressions were made, they quickly 
 wore them oft' again, and were enchanted back into 
 the same circle of pleasure or business. So that on 
 the whole, they rejected the gospel which was so 
 well calculated to reform them, and grew more hope- 
 less under it than ever. If he had not come and 
 spoken unto them, they would in comparison have 
 had no sin ; but now they had no cloak for their 
 sin : and the interpretation tliat he himself, with all 
 his unequalled candour, was obliged to pass upon 
 their conduct, with whatever indignation they might 
 reject the charge, was this, " that they had both 
 seen, and hated, both him and his Father." What 
 could be expected then from such aggravated and 
 incorrigible wickedness, but, 
 
 III. The doon» pronounced upon them ; that 
 dreadful doom, which we are next to consider, that 
 having been exalted unto heaven, they should be 
 brought down to hell ; and it should be more tole- 
 rable for the land of Sodom in the day of judg- 
 ment, than for them. 
 
 You will easily observe a strong and beautiful 
 opposition in the former clause of the sentence ; 
 I and both that and the latter may express — their 
 I temporal ruin, but much more certainly — their 
 future condemnation. 
 
 1. It may perhaps express their temporal ruin. 
 We know, that this is sometimes signified by 
 this expression, being brought down to hell. The 
 destruction of Babylon is foretold by Isaiah by this 
 very phrase, to show how the oppressor should 
 cease, and the golden city cease : Thou hast said in 
 I thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt 
 my throne above the stars of God : yet thou shall 
 be brought down to hell ; that is, thou shalt be 
 utterly destroyed, and buried in thy own ruins. 
 And such, we know, was the doom of Capernaum. 
 Many of the vices which we have naturally enough 
 
 supposed to have abounded in it, would in their 
 own consequences have led it on to certain, though 
 to slower, ruin ; but God, as is frequently his me- 
 thod, interposed to execute this fair yet abandoned 
 criminal, before she died of her own debaucheries. 
 
 I do not remember that we read any tiling par- 
 ticular concerning the circumstances of the ruin of 
 Capernaum: but as all the country about the Gali- 
 lean sea was overrun by the Roman army in the 
 war that quickly happened, it undoubtedly shared 
 the fate of its neighbours, of whose terrible destruc- 
 tion Josephus gives a most affecting description in 
 the third and fourth books of the Jewish War. It 
 was then plundered of its wealth, and in all proba- 
 bility its streets and palaces were filled with the 
 dead bodies of its slaughtered inhabitants ; as the 
 historian says expressly, " that the lake on which 
 the city stood, after a terrible sea-fight there, was 
 covered with the floating corpses of the slain, which 
 almost poisoned all the countrj' round by the in- 
 sufferable stench they omitted, while they remained 
 unburied." The country being thus subdued and 
 trodden down by the Gentiles, who became its ab- 
 solute lords, Capernaum must have soon lost all its 
 glory ; so soon, indeed, that many of the young 
 people, who had been present while Christ preached 
 in their synagogues, and wrought miracles among 
 them, must in a course of nature have lived to share 
 the desolation. Thus the sword of the enemy en- 
 tered into those hearts, which had been impene- 
 trable to that two-edged sword that went out of the 
 mouth of the Son of God. And so entire was the 
 ruin of the place, that, as we learn from Jerom, in 
 his time, which was less than four hundred years 
 after Christ, " all that remained of the magnificence 
 and glory of Capernaum, was six or seven poor 
 fishermen's cottages ;" and modern travellers can 
 hardly find a trace of it : so literally is it grown, 
 like the much more celebrated city of Tyre, like the 
 top of a rock, a place to -spread nets upon. Such 
 is the ancientTyre ; such, after all tiie privileges it 
 enjoyed, Capernaum now is ; and such the proud- 
 est city upon earth shall be, if (Jod but mark it out 
 for the like ruin. But more than this, these awful 
 words of our blessed Redeemer did certainly ex- 
 press, 
 
 2. Their future and final condemnation. 
 
 It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom 
 in the day of judgment, in the great day of final 
 retribution, than for thee. You see, the day of 
 judgment is introduced, that great and terrible day 
 of the Lord. And it is very necessary that the 
 memory of it should be kept up in the world, that 
 men, knowing the terror of the Lord, may, if pos- 
 sible, be awakened and persuaded. Our blessed 
 Redeemer himself, who was anoinfcd to proclaim 
 the acceptable year of the Lord, considered it also 
 ns a part of his commission to declare the day of 
 
 I 
 
812 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 vcnjreance of our God : and nothinp; is so awful as 
 the langua;;e in wliicli he describes il. But we are 
 hereto observe, it is implied, — that Sodom and Go- 
 morrah should have a part in it, — but that their part 
 should be less dreadful than that of the people of 
 Capernaum. 
 
 It is implied, " that Sodom and Gomorrah should 
 have a part in the day of judgment." You well 
 know, that God executed his venfjeance upon them 
 in the most tremendous manner, for those detest- 
 able crimes, which have rendered the nanie of 
 Sodom so infamous to these very distant as:es : and 
 the history of their ruin is so circumstantially de- 
 scribed, tliat it is evident God intended it should 
 never be forcjot. Let me call you all, let me call 
 especially the impenitent sinners that hear me this 
 day, to pause for a few moments on the case of 
 these wretched men. When the rising sun in all 
 its beauty and glory was on a sudden obscured to 
 them, fatally and for ever obscured, by that storm 
 of wrath ; when the awful moment came, in which 
 God had determined to rain upon them snares, fire, 
 and brimstone, and a horrible tempest ; snares, in- 
 deed, that took them, wherever they might attempt 
 to fly : endeavour to conceive, as you can, though 
 you can but imperfectly conceive, what must be the 
 consternation of these wretches, that felt the earth 
 reeling under them, and saw at the same time the 
 heavens thundering upon them, and pouring a vast 
 shower of burning brimstone instead of rain, firing 
 their habitations, and torturing with far more than 
 the agonies of common llame, the bodies they had so 
 delicately pampered, so infamously abused. For 
 a few^ minutes they remained, either stupid and 
 dumb w ith amazement, or shrieking out in torment 
 and despair, and blaspheming the God of heaven 
 because of their pain ; (the most lively image of 
 hell that earth ever saw, or shall see ;) till down 
 they sunk into the opening ground ; the city and 
 its inhabitants vanished in a moment, and nothing 
 remained of their country, which just before was 
 like the garden of the Lord, but a smoking sulphure- 
 ous lake : for so it is expressly said, that Abraham 
 beheld, and lo, its smoke went up as the smoke of 
 a furnace. Thus they became a sign and a pro- 
 verb ; for w hen God would describe the most en- 
 tire destruction that can be conceived, it is by this 
 emblem, as the Lord overthrew Sodom and Go- 
 morrah. 
 
 Their memorial is now perished ; except it be 
 that memorial which is preserved of them in the 
 book of God, where they are marked out in so 
 dreadful a manner : and yet, all their punishment 
 is not over. Our Lord tells us, that in the day of 
 judgment they shall be remembered and visited: 
 and we may assure ourselves, that their doom then 
 shall be more terrible, than that which they sullercd 
 from the sulphureous rain, the earthquake, and the 
 
 pit, into which many of them no doubt went down 
 alive. Whatever their anguish and their terror 
 then was, it shall in the great day be far exceeded: 
 for we can never imagine that God would bring 
 them into final judgment, to punish them less in 
 that tremendous solemnity, than they had formerly 
 been punished ; and we may be confident, that to 
 depart accursed into everlasting fire, prepared for 
 the devil and his angels, to be cast into that lake 
 wliich burns for ever with fire and brimstone, must 
 be infinitely more terrible than the momentary 
 pain, under the anguish of which they would soon 
 have expired, and from which sufloeation would 
 probably much sooner deliver them. 
 
 But is this the sentence of Sodom and Gomorrah 
 only? and shall this dreadful climate be inhabited 
 only by them .' Nay, but it is the doom of Caper- 
 naum too ; and what is most terril)le of all, it is 
 expressly said. It shall be more tolerable for Sodom 
 and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for Ca- 
 pernaum. And thus. 
 
 It is implied, " that their part shall be less 
 dreadful in the day of judgment, than that of the 
 people of Capernaum." And it is reasonable that 
 it should be so. Sodom and Gomorrah were right- 
 eously condemned : they abused the light of na- 
 ture, which strongly v\ itnessed against wickedness 
 monstrous like theirs : they rejected the preaching 
 of Lot, by whom they might have learnt the know- 
 ledge of the true God, and the way to serve him 
 with acceptance : but though they violated the 
 dictates of reason, though they abused the bounties 
 of Providence, though they despised the preacliing 
 of Lot ; yet they heard not the gospel of the Son 
 of God. A much greater than Lot was in the 
 midst of thee, O Capernaum ! Justly therefore are 
 thy children, who would not receive his doctrine, 
 who would not obey his charge, who would not 
 regard his miracles, doomed to a severer ven- 
 geance, to a more intolerable condemnation ; so 
 as to look with envy upon the milder tortures 
 inllictcd upon those egregious sinners against their 
 own souls. 
 
 But this is not said of them only: it touches us 
 nearly ; and O that, as we are so often reminding 
 you of it, you may all seriously consider it ! What 
 our Lord asserts concerning Capernaum, he else- 
 where says concerning all, who will not receive, 
 embrace, and obey the gospel ; for these are his 
 words to the first messengers of it. Whosoever shall 
 not receive you, nor hear your words, verily I say 
 unto you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of 
 Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than 
 for that city ; and by a parity of reason, for every 
 city, for every town, for every village, for every 
 soul, by whom the gospel shall be rejected, after 
 having been plainly and faithfully laid before them. 
 Oh ! hear it again ! It shall be more tolerable for 
 
PRACTICAL SERMONS. 
 
 813 
 
 Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than 
 for them. 
 
 And now, methinks, I am ready to interrupt my 
 Discourse, and could rather, were I sure you would 
 attend me in it, sit down, and cover my face, and 
 weep. For if these are indeed the words of the 
 Son of God, they are big with a terrible tempest ; 
 and it hangs over what we call the Christian world ; 
 it hangs over this island, which is in many respects 
 the glory of it. And have we no forebodings, 
 where the heaviest part of it might justly fall ? Is 
 there no city that rises to our thoughts, far superior 
 to Capernaum in its wealth and magnificence, and 
 in some respects more than equal to it in its guilt ? 
 O London ! London ! dear city of my birth and 
 education, — seat of so many of my friends, — seat 
 of our princes and senators, — centre of our com- 
 merce, — heart of our island ; which must feel and 
 languish, must tremble, and (I had almost said) 
 die, with thee ! — How art thou lifted up to heaven ! 
 How high do thy glories rise, and how bright do 
 they shine ! How great is thy magnificence ! How 
 extensive thy commerce ! How numerous, how 
 free, how happy, thy inhabitants ! How happy, 
 above all, in their religious opportunities ! in the 
 uncorrupted gospel, so long, so faithfully, preached 
 in thy synagogues ! displayed in so many peculiar 
 glories, which were but beginning to dawn when 
 Jesus himself dwelt in Capernaum, and preached 
 repentance there ! But while we survey these 
 heights of elevation, must we not tremble, lest thou 
 sbouldst fall so much the lower, lest thou shouldst 
 plunge so much the deeper in ruin ? 
 
 My situation, Sirs, is not such, as to render mc 
 most capable of judging concerning the moral 
 character of this our celebrated metropolis. But 
 who can hear what seem the most credible reports 
 of it, yea, I will add, who can walk its streets but 
 for a few days with any other observation, and not 
 take an alarm, and be ready to meditate terror ? 
 Whose spirit must not (like that of Paul at Athens) 
 be stirred, when he sees tlie city so abandoned to 
 profancness, luxury, and vanity ? Is it indeed 
 false, all that we hear? Is it indeed accidental, all 
 that we see? Is London wronged, when it is said, — 
 that great licentiousness reigns among most of its 
 inhabitants, and great indolence and indifference to 
 religion even among those that are not licentious ? — 
 that assemblies for divine worship are much neg- 
 lected, or frequented with little appearance of 
 seriousness or solemnity ; while assemblies for 
 pleasure are thronged, and attended with such an 
 eagerness, that all the heart and soul seems to be 
 given to them rather than to God ? — that most of its 
 families are prayerless, wanting time it seems, or 
 rather wanting heart, for these social devotions ; 
 while many hours of every day can be given to 
 recreations and amusements at home, if by ;iny 
 
 accident it is impracticable to seek them abroad ? 
 — that the sabbath, instead of being religiously 
 observed, is given to jaunts of pleasure into 
 neighbouring villages, or wasted on beds of sloth, 
 or at tables of excess ? — that not only persons in the 
 highest ranks of life, but that the trading part of 
 its citizens, affect such an excessive gaiety, and 
 grandeur, and delicacy, the very reverse of that 
 frugality of our ancestors, who raised the city to 
 what it is ? — that men in almost every rank are 
 ambitious of appearing to be something more, than 
 those who stand in the next rank above them could 
 conveniently allow themselves to appear; and in 
 consequence of this, are grasping at business they 
 cannot manage, entering into engagements for what 
 they cannot answer, and so, after a vain and con- 
 temptible blaze, drawing bankruptcy upon them- 
 selves, and exposing to the danger of it, honest, 
 industrious persons, who are won by that suspicious 
 face of plenty which they put on, to repose a con- 
 fidence in them, on that very account so much the 
 less reasonable and safe ? — that the poorer sort of 
 the people are so grossly ignorant, as to know 
 hardly any thing of religion, but the sacred names, 
 which they continuallj' profane ; so wretchedly 
 depraved, as to consume their time and strength 
 in reaching at those low and pernicious luxuries 
 w hi(;Ii they may hope to attain ; and so abandoned, as 
 to sink unchastiscd into the most brutal sensualities 
 and impurities ; while those who would exert any 
 remarkable zeal to remedy these evils, by intro- 
 ducing a deep and warm sense of religion into the 
 minds of others, are suspected and censured as 
 whimsical and entliusiastical, if not designing, men ? 
 — in a word, that tlie religion of our divine Master 
 is by multitudes of tlie great and the vulgar openly 
 renounced and blasphemed; and by others but 
 coldly defended, as if it were grown a matter of 
 mere indifference, which men miglit, without any 
 great danger of mischief, reject at their pleasure ; 
 yea, as if it were a n'atter of great doubt and un- 
 certainty, whether men's souls were inunortal, or 
 w hether they were extinguished with so empty and 
 insignificant a life? Men and brethren, are these 
 filings indeed so? I take not upon me to answer 
 absolutely, that they are ; but I will venture to say, 
 that if they are indeed thus, London, as rich, and 
 grand, and glorious as it is, has reason to tremble, 
 and to tremble so much the more for its abused 
 riches, grandeur, and glory. 
 
 There is indeed, as has often and justly been 
 observed, one token for good amongst these symp- 
 toms of danger ; I mean, a variety of charitable 
 foundations and institutions amongst you, so far as 
 I know, unequalled through the whole world ; as 
 well as a freedom from persecution and oppression, 
 those detestable evils, which wherever they are to 
 1)C found, cry so loud for vengeance, and for which 
 
814 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 it is expressly said, lliat Babylon, Nineveh, and 
 Jerusalem, were destroyed. There are also, blessed 
 be God, not a few inhabitants of this city, who 
 reverence God ; who believe, and obey, and adorn 
 his gospel ; who dare, in the midst of so many con- 
 trary examples, to stand up for the honour of Chris- 
 tianity with resolution and zeal ; and who are soli- 
 citous to infuse a deep sense of its excellency and 
 importance, into the minds of tlieir rising offspriuf;, 
 and of others whom Providence has placed under 
 their care and inlluence: these, of whatever deno- 
 mination, and with whatever modesty and silence 
 their desis^ns are conducted, are the salt of the 
 earth, that hinder the corruption from becomin«: 
 universal ; they are the guardians of the city in 
 which they dwell, and stand in that breach, at 
 which judgment would otherwise pour in like a 
 torrent. Let such be established, encouraged, and 
 quickened, by representations like those I have 
 now been making. The eyes of the Lord are upon 
 them, especially at a crisis like this ; and his ears 
 will be open to their cry. Let them be exhorted, 
 to exert themselves with a growing zeal for a general 
 reformation, so far as tlieir influence may extend. 
 Let them by their examples go on to plead this 
 important cause ; and let every art and labour of 
 pious education be attended to, that the minds of 
 youth may be rescued from the growing contagion, 
 and stored with those seeds of virtue and piety, 
 which may make the next generation much happier 
 than the present: and to these labours of love let 
 such join their fervent prayers, which have already, 
 I doubt not, been in some cases efilcacious, and 
 which, in proportion as they grow more frequent 
 and importunate, may be yet more so. All that 
 love Zion, will say Amen to them ; and may the 
 Lord our God say so too ! 
 
 To the rest, who swim with the stream, who fol- 
 low the multitude, and who argue themselves into 
 security, either from Epicurean principles, or from 
 not having yet felt those scourges of God, under 
 which so many other cities and nations have fallen ; 
 — to those who disregard providence, as well as 
 neglect and despise the gospel ; — I shall only at 
 present address that awful oracle of God by Zepha- 
 niah, which ought to have its weight wherever 
 
 circumstances resemble what are there supposed : 
 It shall come to pass, saith the Lord, that I will 
 search Jerusalem with candles, and punish the men 
 that are settled on their lees, that say in their heart, 
 the Lord will not do good, neither will he do evil : 
 therefore their goods shall become a booty, and 
 their houses a desolation. So it may really be, 
 peaceful as the present appearances are. God can 
 raise up enemies, where we least expect them ; nor 
 does he need the weapons of war to chastise, or its 
 engines to overthrow, a guilty city. But however 
 its impenitent inhabitants may escape such tem- 
 poral judgments, concerning the probability of 
 which wc can but very uncertainly denounce ; I 
 will take up the parable, and say, in the sublimest 
 sense t!-ic following words can admit, and in such 
 a light as the awful denunciation of my text throws 
 upon them, The great day of the Lord is near, it is 
 nearer and hasteth greatly, even the voice of the 
 day of the Lord ; which shall be ushered in by the 
 voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God ; 
 when the heavens as well as the earth shall be 
 shaken, and pass away with a great noise, and the 
 elements shall melt with fervent heat : the day, in 
 which the mighty man, the boldest and the haugh- 
 tiest sinner, shall cry bitterly: that day of wrath, 
 that day of trouble and distress, that day of waste- 
 ness and desolation, that day of darkness and 
 gloominess, that day of clouds and thick darkness, 
 which no description even of a prophet's pen can 
 paint in colours sufficiently terrible ; that d<iy of 
 the trumpet and alarm, that shall bring distress 
 upon men, because they have sinned against the 
 Lord. They may trust in their strength, they may 
 boast in their riches ; but the fenced cities and 
 the high towers shall be brought down ; neither 
 their silver nor their gold shall be able to deliver 
 them in the day of the Lord's wrath, when the 
 whole land, when the whole earth, shall be devour- 
 ed by the lire of his jealousy. This alarm I leave 
 with you ; and O that it may operate to produce 
 that great effect, in which all our ministry, if we 
 understand our own true interest and yours, ought 
 to centre, even that of leading you to him, whose 
 great prerogative and office, whose glory and joy, 
 it is, to deliver from the wrath to come ! Amen. 
 
FUNERAL SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON VL 
 
 SUBMISSION TO DIVINE PROVIDENCE, IN THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The Discourse which I now offer to the public was drawn up on a very sorrowful occasion ; the death of 
 a most desirable child, who was formed in such a correspondence to my own relish and temper, as to be 
 able to give me a degree of delight, and consequently of distress, which I did not before think it possible 
 I could have received from a little creature who had not quite completed her fifth year. 
 
 Since the Sermon was preached, it has pleased God to make the like breaches in the families of several 
 of my friends ; and with regard to some of them, tlie affliction hath been attended with circumstances of 
 yet sorer aggravation. Though several of them are removed to a considerable distance from me, and 
 from each other, I have borne their afflictions upon my heart with cordial sympathy ; and it is with a 
 particular desire of serving them, that I have undertaken the sad task of reviewing and transcribing 
 these papers ; which may almost be called the minutes of my own sighs and tears, over the poor remains 
 of my eldest and (of this kind) dearest hope, when they were not as yet buried out of my sight. 
 
 They are, indeed, full of afl'ection, and to be sure some may think they arc too full of it; but let them 
 consider the subject, and the circumstances, and surely they will pardon it. I apprehend, I could not 
 have treated such a suljject coldly, had I written upon it many years ago, when I was untaught in flic 
 school of affliction, and knew nothing of such a calamity as this, but by speculation or report : how much 
 less could I do it, when God had touched me in so tender a part, ami (to allude to a cele))rated ancient 
 story) called mc out to appear on a public stage, as with an urn in my hand, which contained the ashes 
 of my own child I 
 
 In such a sad situation parents, at least, will forgive the tears of a parent, and those meltings of soul 
 which overflow in the foUovt-ing pages. I have not attempted to run through the comnjon-place of im- 
 moderate grief, but ha\e only selected a few obvious thoughts which I found peculiarly suitable to my- 
 self ; and, I bless God, I can truly say, they gave me a solid and substantial relief, under a shock of 
 sorrow which would otherwise have broken my spirits. 
 
 On my own experience, therefore, I would recommend them to others in the like condition. And let 
 me entreat my friends and my fellow-sufferers to remember, that it is not a low degree of submission to 
 the divine will, which is called for in the ensuing Discourse. It is comparatively an easy thing to behave 
 with external decency, to refrain from bold censures and outrageous complaints, or to speak in the out- 
 ward language of resignation. But it is not so easy to get rid of every repining thought, and to forbear 
 taking it, in some degree at least, unkindly, that the God whom we love and serve, in whose friendship 
 we have long trusted and rejoiced, should act what, to sense, seems so unfriendly a part : that he should 
 take away a child ; and if a child, that child ; and if that child, at that age ; and if at that age, with this 
 or that particular circumstance ; which seems the very contrivance of Providence, to add double anguish 
 to the wound : and all this, when he could so easily have recalled it ; when we know him to have done it 
 for so many others ; v. hen we have so earnestly desired it ; when we sought it with such importunity, 
 and yet, as we imagine, with so much submission too: — that, notwithstanding all this, he should tear it 
 away with an inexorable hand, and leave us, it may be for a while, under the load, without any extra- 
 ordinary comforts and supports, to balance .so grievous a trial. — In these circumstances, not only to 
 justify, but to glorify, God in all,— cheerfully to sub.scribc to his will,— cordially to approve it as merci- 
 ful and gracious, — so as to be able to say, as the pious and excellent archbishop of Cambray did, when 
 his royal pupil, and the hopes of a nation, were taken away,* " If there needed no more than to move 
 a straw to bring him to life again, I would not do it, since the divine pleasure is othcrwi.se." — This, this 
 is a difficult lesson indeed ; a triumph of Christian faith and love, which I fear many of us are yet to learn. 
 
 * The Duke of Burpuiuly. See Cambray's Life, page 3Q9. 
 
816 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 But let us follow after it, and watch against the rirs*i risinp; of a contrary temper, as most injurious to 
 God, and prejudicial to ourselves. To preserve us against it, let us review the considerations now to be 
 proposed, as what we arc to digest into our hearts, and work into our thoui!,hts and our passions. And 
 I «ould hope, that if we do in good earnest make the attempt, we sliall lind this Discourse a cooling 
 and sweetening medicine, which may allay that inward heat and sharpness, with which, in a case like 
 ours, the heart is often inllauu'd and corroded. I commend it, su(;h as it is, to the blessing of the great 
 Physician, and could wish the reader to make up its many deliciencies, by Mr. Flavel's Token for 
 Mourners, and Dr. Grosvcnor's Mourner; to which if it suit Ills relish, he may please to add Sir Wil- 
 liam Temple's Essay on the Excess of Grief: — three tracts which, in their very diflerent strains and styles, 
 I cannot hut look upon as in the number of the best which our language, or, perhaps, any other, has pro- 
 duced upon this subject. 
 
 As for this little piece of mine, I question not but, like the generality of single sermons, it will soon 
 bo worn out and forgotten. But in the mean time 1 would humbly hope, that some tender parent, whom 
 Providence has joined with me in sad similitude of grief, may lind some consolation from it, while sitting 
 by the cothn of a beloved child, or mourning over its grave. And 1 particularly hope it, with regard to 
 those dear and valuable friends, whose sorrows on the like occasion have lately been added to my own. 
 I desire that though they be not expressly named, they would please to consider this Sermon as most 
 affectionately and respectfully dedicated to them ; and would, in return, give me a share in their prayers, 
 that all the vicissitudes of life may concur to quicken me in the duties of it, and to ripen me for that 
 blessed world, where I hope many of those dear delights, which are now withering around us, will spring 
 up in fairer and more durable forms. Amen. 
 
 Northampton, January 31, 1736-7. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 I could easily show, with how much propriety I have called the dear deceased an amiable and hopeful 
 child, by a great many little stories, which parents would perhaps read with pleasure, and children 
 might hear with some improvement : yet as I cannot be sure that no others may happen to read the 
 Discourse, I dare not trust my pen and my heart on so delicate a subject. One circumstance I will 
 however venture to mention, which may indeed be considered as a specimen of many others : As she 
 was a great darling with most of our friends that knew her, she often received invitations to different 
 places at the same time : and when I once asked her, on such an occasion, what made every body love 
 her so well ; she answered me, (with that simplicity and spirit which, alas ! charmed me too much,) 
 " Indeed, papa, I cannot think, unless it be because I love every body." A sentiment obvious to the un- 
 derstanding of a child, yet not unworthy the reflection of the wisest man.* 
 
 2 Kings iv. 25, 26. 
 
 And it came to pass, wlirn the man of God saw her 
 afar off, that he said to Gehazi his servant. Behold, 
 yonder is that Shunammite : run now, I pray thee, 
 to meet her ; and say unto her. Is it well with thee ? 
 is it well with thy husband? is it well with the 
 child? And she answered, It is well. 
 
 When the apostle would encourage our hope and 
 trust in the tenderness of Christ as the great High 
 Priest, and convince us that he is capable of being 
 touched with a sympathetic sense of our infirmities, 
 be argues at large from this consideration, that 
 Jesus was in all points tempted like us ; so that as 
 he himself has suffered, being tempted, he knows 
 how more compassionately to succour those that are 
 under the like trials. Now this must surely inti- 
 mate, that it is not in human nature, even in its 
 most perfect state, so tenderly to commiserate any 
 
 * Tibi monstraUo aniatomim siue rocdicamento, sine lierbi!>, 
 
 sorrows, as those which our own hearts have felt; 
 as we cannot form a perfect idea of any bitter kind 
 of draught, by the most exact description, till we 
 have ourselves tasted it. It is probably for this 
 reason, amongst others, that God frequently exer- 
 cises such, as have (he honour to be inferior shep- 
 herds in the flock of Christ, with a long train of 
 various afflictions, that we may be able to comfort 
 them who are in the like trouble, with those conso- 
 lations with which we have ourselves been com-* 
 forted of God. And, if we have the temper which 
 becomes our ollice, will greatly reconcile us to our 
 trials, to consider, that from our weeping eyes, and 
 our bleeding hearts, a balm may be extracted to 
 heal the sorrows of others, and a cordial to revive 
 their fainting spirits. May we never be left to 
 sink under our burthen, in such a manner, that 
 there should be room, after all we have boasted of 
 the strength of religious supports, to apply to us 
 the words of Eliphaz to Job, Thou hast strength- 
 
 , sine ullius veoeficse carmine; si vis aniari, ama.— .Sc/iecn. 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 ened the weak hands, and upheld him that was 
 ready to fall ; but now it is come upon thee, and 
 thou faintest ; it touches thee, and thou art troubled ! 
 May wc never behave, as if the eousolations of God 
 were small ; lest it should be as when a standard- 
 bearer fainteth, and whole companies of soldiers 
 are thrown into confusion and distress ! 
 
 My friends, you are witnesses for me, that I have 
 not stood by, as an unconcerned spectator amidst 
 the desolations of your respective families, when 
 God's awful hand hath been lopping off those ten- 
 der branches from them, which were once common 
 hope and delight. I have often put my soul in the 
 stead of yours, and endeavoured to give such a turn 
 to my public as well as my private discourses, as 
 might be a means of composing and cheering our 
 minds, and forming you to a submissive temper, 
 that you might be subject to the Father of Spirits, 
 and live. In this view I have, at different times, 
 largely insisted on the example of Aaron, who held 
 his peace, when his two eldest sons were struck, 
 dead in a moment by fire from the Lord, which de- 
 stroyed them in the very act of their sin ; and I have 
 also represented that of Job, who, when the death 
 often children by one blow was added to the spoil 
 of his great possessions, could say, The Lord gave, 
 and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the 
 name of the Lord. The instance which is before 
 ns, is not indeed so memorable as these ; but to pre- 
 sent circumstances it is, in many respects, more 
 suitable : and it may the rather deserve our notice, 
 as it shows us the wisdom, composure, and piety of 
 one of the weaker and tenderer sex, on an occasion 
 of such aggravated distress, that had Aaron or Job 
 behaved just as she did, we must have acknow- 
 ledged, that they had not sunk beneath the dignity 
 of their character, nor appeared unworthy of our 
 applause and our imitation. 
 
 Indeed there may be some reason to imagine, that 
 it was with design to humble those who are in dis- 
 tinguished stations of life, and who have peculiar 
 advantages and obligations to excel in religion, that 
 God has shown us in Scripture, as well as in com- 
 mon life, some bright examples of piety, where 
 they could hardly have been expected in so great 
 a degree ; and hath, as it were, perfected praise out 
 of the mouths of babes and sucklings. Thus when 
 Zacharias, an aged priest, doubted the veracity of 
 the angel which appeared to assure him of the birth 
 of his child, which was to be produced in an ordi- 
 nary way ; Mary, an obscure young virgin, could 
 believe a far more unexampled event, and said, 
 with humble faith and thankful consent, Behold the 
 bandmaid of the Lord, be it unto me according to 
 thy word. Jonah the prophet, though favoured 
 with such immediate revelations, and so lately de- 
 livered, in a miraculous way, from the very belly of 
 hell, was thrown into a most indecent transport of 
 3 G 
 
 SERMONS. 817 
 
 passion, on the withering of a gourd ; so that he 
 presumed to tell the Almighty to his face, that he 
 did well to be angry even unto death : whereas this 
 pious woman preserves tlie calmness and serenity of 
 her temper, when she had lost a child, a son, an 
 only child, who had been given beyond all natural 
 hope, and therefore to be sure was so much the 
 dearer, and the expectation from him so much the 
 higher. Yet these expectations were dashed almost in 
 a moment ; and this, when he was grown up to an age 
 when children are peculiarly entertaining ; for he 
 was old enough to be with his father in the field, 
 where no doubt he was diverting him with his fond 
 prattle ; yet he was not too big to be laid on his 
 mother's knees, when he came home complaining 
 of his head ; so that he was probably about five or 
 six years old. This amiable child was well in the 
 morning, and dead by noon ; a pale corpse in his 
 mother's arms ! and he now lay dead in the house ; 
 and yet she had the faith and the goodness to say, 
 " It is well." 
 
 This good woman had found the prophet Elisha 
 grateful for all the favours he had received at her 
 hoivse ; where she had from time to time accommo- 
 dated him in his journeys, and thought it an honour 
 rather than an encumbrance. She had experienced 
 the power of his prayers, in answer to which the 
 child had been given ; and it is extremely probable, 
 that she also recollected the miracle which Elijah 
 had wrought a few years before, though till tliat 
 time the like had not been known in Israel, or on 
 earth ; I mean, in raising from the dead the child 
 of that widow of Sarepta, who had nourished him 
 during the famine. Slie might therefore think it a 
 possible case, that the miracle might be renewed ; 
 at least, she knew not how to comfort herself better, 
 than by going to so good a friend, and asking his 
 counsels and his prayers, to enable her to bear her 
 affliction, if it must not be removed. 
 
 Accordingly she hasted to him ; and he, on the 
 other side, discovered the temper of a real friend, 
 in the message with which he sent Gehazi his ser- 
 vant to meet her, while she was yet afar off. The 
 moment she appeared, the concerns of her whole 
 family seem to have come into his kind heart at 
 once, and he particularly asks. Is it well with thee? 
 is it well with thine husband ? is it well with the 
 child ? A beautiful example of that affectionate 
 care for the persons and families of their friends, 
 which Christian ministers (who, like the prophets of 
 old, are called men of God) should habitually bear 
 about in their hearts ; which should be awakened 
 by every sight of them, and expressed on every 
 proper occasion. 
 
 Her answer was very remarkable : she said. It is 
 well. Perhaps she meant this, to divert the more 
 particular inquiry of the servant ; as she had before 
 made the same answer to her husband, when he 
 
/ 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 818 
 
 liail examined into tlie reason of her intended 
 journey, as probably not know inj? of the sad breach 
 which had been made : she said, It is well ; wlii(;h 
 was a civil way of intimating; her desire that he 
 would not ask any more particular (|uestions. Hut 
 I cannot see any reason to restrain the words to tliis 
 meaninfj alone : we have ground to believe, from 
 the piety she expressed in her first regards to Elisha, 
 and the opportunities which she had of imjjroving 
 in religion by the frequent converse of that holy 
 man, that when she used this language, she intended 
 thereby to express her resignation to the divine will 
 in what had lately passed : and this miglit he the 
 meaning of her heart, (though one ignorant of the 
 particulars of her case might not fully understand 
 it from such ambiguous words,) " It is well, on the 
 whole. Though my family be afllieted, we arc af- 
 flicted in faithfulness ; though my dear babe be 
 dead, yet my heavenly Father is just, and he is good 
 in all. He knows how to bring glory to himself, 
 and advantage to us, from this stroke. Whether 
 this application do or do not succeed, whether the 
 child be or be not restored, it is still well ; well 
 with him, and well with us ; for we are in such wise 
 and su<;h gracious hands, that I would not allow 
 one murmuring word, or one repining thought." So 
 that, on (he whole, the sentiment of this good 
 Shunammite was much the same with that of Heze- 
 kiah, when he answered to that dreadful threaten- 
 ing which imported the destruction of his cliildrcn. 
 Good is the word of the Lord which he hath spoken ; 
 or that of Job, when he heard that all his sons and 
 his daughters were crushed under the ruins of their 
 elder brother's house, and yet (in the fore-cited 
 words) said. Blessed be the name of the Lord. 
 
 Now this is the temper to which, by divine assist- 
 ance, we should all labour to bring our own hearts, 
 when God puts this bitter cup into our hands, and 
 takes away with a stroke tiiose dear little ones, 
 which were the desire of our eyes, and the joy of 
 our hearts. Let us not content ourselves, in sueli 
 eircumstanees, with keeping the door of our lips, 
 that we break not out into any indecencies of com- 
 plaint ; let us not attempt to harden ourselves 
 against our sorrows by a stern insensibility, or that 
 sullen resolution which sometimes .says, " It is grief, 
 and I must bear it ;" but let us labour (for a great 
 labour it will indeed be) to compose and quiet our 
 souls, calmly to acciuiesce in this painful dispen- 
 sation, nay, cordially to approve it, as in present 
 circumstances every way fit. 
 
 It will be the main business of this Discourse, to 
 prove how reasonable such a temper is, or to show 
 how nmch cause Christian parents have to borrow 
 the language of the text, when their infant offspring 
 is taken away, and to say, Avitli the pious Shunam- 
 mite, in the noblest sense that her words will bear, 
 — It is well. 
 
 And hero I would more particularly show, — it is 
 well in the general, because God does it : — it is 
 surely well for the pious parents in particular, be- 
 cause it is- the work of their covenant God : — they 
 may see many respects in which it is evidently so, 
 by observing what useful lessons it has a tendency 
 to tcacli them :— and they have reason to hope, it is 
 well witli those dear creatures whom God hath re- 
 moved in their early days. 
 
 These are surely convincing reasons to the under- 
 standing ; yet who can say, that they shall be rea- 
 sons to the heart ? Arise, O God, and plead thine 
 own cause in the most efiectual manner ! May thy 
 powerful and gracious voice appease the swelling 
 billows of the passions, and produce a great and 
 delightful calm in our souls, in which we may yet 
 enjoy thee and ourselves, though a part of our 
 treasure be for the present swallowed up ! 
 
 I. There is surely reason, in such a case, to say 
 it is well, — because God doth it. 
 
 This passed for an unanswerable reason with 
 David, I was dumb, I opened not my mouth, be- 
 cause thou didst it ; and with good old Eli, under a 
 severer trial than ours. It is the Lord, let him do 
 as seejneth good in his sight. And shall we object 
 against the force of it ? Was it a rea.son to David, 
 and to Eli, and is it not equally so to us? or have 
 we any new right to reply against God, which those 
 eminent saints had not ? 
 
 His kingdom rulefh over all ; and there is not so 
 much as a sparrow that falls to the ground without 
 our Father's notice, but the very hairs of our head 
 are all numbered by him. Can we then imagine 
 that our dear children fall into their graves without 
 his notice or interposition ? Did that watchful eye 
 that keepeth Israel, now, for the first time, slumber 
 and sleep, and an enemy lay hold on that fatal mo- 
 ment to bear away these precious spoils, and bury 
 our joys and our hopes in the dust? Did some 
 malignant hand stop up the avenues of life, and 
 break its springs, so as to baffle all the tenderness 
 of the parent, and all the skill of the physician? 
 Whence does such a thought come, and whither 
 would it lead ? Diseases and accidents are but 
 second causes, which owe all their operations to 
 the continued energy of the great original cixuse. 
 Therefore God says, 1 will bereave them of chil- 
 dren ; I take away the desire of thine eyes with a 
 stroke. He changeth tlicir countenance, and seud- 
 etli them away. Thou, Lord, turnest man to destruc- 
 tion, and sayest, Return, ye children of men. And 
 what shall we say ? Are not the administrations of 
 his providence wise and good ? Can we teach him 
 knowledge? Can we tax him with injustice ? Shall 
 the most high God learn of us how to govern the 
 world, and be instructed by our wisdpm when to 
 remove his creatures from one state of being to an- 
 other ! Or do we imagine that his administration, 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 iu the general right and good, varies when he comes 
 to touch our bone and our flesh ? Is that the secret 
 language of our soul, " that it is well others should 
 drink of the cup, but not we ; that any families but 
 ours should be broken, and any hearts but ours 
 should be wounded .'" Who might not claim the 
 like exemption .' And what would become of the 
 divine government in general .' or where would be 
 his obedient homage from his creatures, if each 
 should begin to complain, as soon as it comes to his 
 own turn to suffer? Much fitter is it for us to con- 
 clude, that our own afflictions may be as reasonable 
 as those of others ; that amidst all the clouds and 
 darkness of his present dispensation, righteousness 
 and judgment are the habitation of his throne ; and, 
 in aH ord, that it is well, because God hath done it. 
 It suits the general scheme of the divine providence, 
 and, to an obedient submissive creature, that might 
 be enough ; but it is far from being all. For, 
 
 II. Pious parents, under such a dispensation, 
 may conclude it is well for them in particular, — be- 
 cause he who hath done it is their covenant God. 
 
 This is the great promise, to which all the saints 
 under the Old and New Testament are heirs, — I will 
 be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people: 
 and if we arc interested in it, the happy consequence 
 is, that wc being his, all our concerns are his also ; 
 all arc humbly resigned to him, — and graciously 
 administered by him, — and incomparably better 
 blessings bestowed and secured, than any which 
 the most afflictive providence can remove. 
 . If we have any share in this everlasting covenant, 
 all that wc are or have, must, of course, have been 
 solemnly surrendered to God. And this is a thought 
 peculiarly applicable to the case immediately in 
 view. " Did I not," may the Christian in such a 
 sad circumstance generally say, " did I not, iu a 
 very solemn manner, bring this my child to God in 
 baptism, and in that ordinance recognise his right 
 to it ; Did I not, with all humble subjection to tlie 
 Father of spirits, and Father of mercies, lay it down 
 at his feet, perhaps with an express, at least to be 
 sure with a tacit, consent, that it should be disposed 
 of by him, as his infinite wisdom and goodness 
 should direct, whether for life or for death ? And 
 am I now to complain of him, because he has re- 
 moved not only a creature of his own, but one of 
 the children of his family ? Or shall I pretend, after 
 all, to set up a claim in opposition to his ? A heathen 
 parent, even from the light of nature, might have 
 learned silent submission ; how much more then a 
 Christian parent, who hath presented his child to 
 <iod in this initiatory ordinance ; and perhaps also 
 many a time, both before and since, hath presented 
 himself at the table of the Lord ! Have I not there 
 taken that cup of blessings, with a declared resolu- 
 tion of accepting every other cup, how bitter soever 
 it might he, which my heavenly Father should see 
 3 G 2 
 
 SERMONS. m» 
 
 fit to put into my hand ! When I have perhaps felt 
 some painful forebodings of what I am now suffer- 
 ing, I have, in my own thoughts, particularly singled 
 out that dear object of my cares and my hopes, to 
 lay it down anew at my Father's feet, and say, 
 Lord, thou gavest it to me, and I resign it to thee ; 
 continue or remove it, as thou pleasest. And did 
 I then mean to trille with God ? Did I mean in effect 
 to say. Lord, I will give it up, if thou wilt not take 
 it?" 
 
 Reflect further, I beseech you, on your secret re- 
 tirements, and think, as surely some of you may, 
 " How often have I there been on ray knees before 
 God on account of this child ; and what was then 
 my language? Did I say. Lord, I absolutely insist 
 on its recovery ; I cannot, on any terms or any con- 
 siderations whatsoever, bear to think of losing it ?" 
 Surely we were none of us so indecently transported 
 with the fondest passion, as to be so rash with our 
 mouths as to utter such things before the great God. 
 Such presumption had deserved a much heavier 
 punishment than we are now bearing, and, if not 
 retracted, may perhaps still have it. Did not one 
 or another of us rather say, " Lord, I would humbly 
 entreat, with all due submission to thy superior 
 wisdom and sovereign pleasure, that my child may 
 live ; but if it must be otherwise, not my will, but 
 thine, be done. — I and mine are in thy hand, do 
 with me, and with them, as seemeth good in thy 
 sight." And do we now blame ourselves for this? 
 Would we unray it again, and, if possible, take 
 ourselves and our children out of his hands, whom 
 we have so often owned as all-wise and all-gra- 
 cious, and have chosen as our great guardian and 
 theirs ? 
 
 Let it further be considered, it is done by that 
 God who has accepted of this surrender, so as to 
 undertake the administration of our afl'airs : " He 
 is become my covenant God in Christ," may the 
 Christian say; " and, in consc(|uence of that cove- 
 nant, he hath engaged to manage the concerns and 
 interests of his people so, that all tilings shall work 
 together for good to them that love him. And do I 
 not love him ? Answer, O my heart, dost thou not 
 love thy God much better than all the blessings 
 which earth can boast, or which the grave hath 
 swallowed up? Wouldst thou resign thine interest 
 in hint to recover these precious spoils, to receive 
 this dear child from the dust, a thousand times 
 fairer and sweeter than before? Rather let death 
 devour every remaining comfort, and leave me alone 
 with him ; with whom when I indeed an), I miss not 
 the creatures, but rather rejoice in their absence, as 
 I am then more entire with him «hom my soul 
 loveth. And if I do indeed love him, this promise 
 is mine, and all things, and therefore this sad event 
 in particular, shall work togetlier for my good. 
 Shall I not then say, It is well f What if it ex- 
 
820 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 I'ecded nil (lio strolcli of iny thoughts, to conceive 
 liow it could, ill any instance, be so.' What are my 
 narrow conccjitions, that they should pretend to 
 circumscribe infinite wisdom, faithfulness, and 
 mercy? Let me rather, with Abraham, give glory to 
 God, and in hope believe against hope." 
 
 Once more ; let us consider how many invaluable 
 blessings are given us by this covenant, and then 
 judge whether we have not the utmost reason to 
 acquiesce in such an event of providence, "^i^, I 
 am in covenant with God," may the believer say, 
 " then he hath pardoned my sins, and renewed my 
 heart, and hath made his blessed Spirit, dwelling 
 in me, the sacred bond of an everlasting union be- 
 tween him and my soul. He is leading mc through 
 the wilderness, and will, ere long, lead nie out of it 
 to the heavenly Canaan. And how far am I already 
 arrived in my journey thither, now that I am come 
 to the age of losing a child ! And when God hath 
 done all this for me, is he rashly to be suspected of 
 iinkindness? He that spared not his own Son ; he 
 that gave me with him his Spirit and his kingdom ; 
 why doth he deny, or why doth he remove, any 
 other favour? Did he think the life of this child too 
 great a good to grant, when he thouj;ht not Christ 
 and glory too precious? Away with that thought, O 
 my unbelieving heart, and with every thought which 
 would derogate from such rich amazing grace, or 
 would bring any thing in comparison with it. Art 
 thou under these obligations to him, and wilt thou 
 yet complain ? With what grace, with what decency, 
 canst thou dispute tiiis, or any other matter, with 
 thy God ? What right have I yet to cry any more to 
 the King?" Would any of my brethren venture to 
 say, " What though I be a child of God, and an 
 heir of glory, it matters not, for my gourd is withered ; 
 that pleasant plant, which was opening so fair and 
 so delightful, under the shadow of which I ex- 
 pected long to have sat, and even the Rock of ages 
 cannot shelter me so well ? I can behold that beloved 
 face no more, and therefore I will not look upward 
 to behold the face of God, I will not look forward 
 to Christ and to heaven?" Would this, my friends, 
 be the language of a real Christian ? Nay. are there 
 not many abandoned sinners who would tremble at 
 such expressions? Yet is it not in effect the lan- 
 guage of our tumultuous passions, when, like 
 Rachael, we are mourning for our children, and 
 will not be comforted, because they are not? Is it 
 not our language while we cannot, like the pious 
 Shunammite in the text, bring our afiUcted hearts to 
 say. It is well. 
 
 III. Pious parents, in such a circumstance, have 
 further reason to say, It is well, — as they may 
 observe an apparent tendency in such a dispensa- 
 tion to teach them a variety of the most instructive 
 and useful lessons, in a very convincing and 
 effectual manner. 
 
 It is a just observation of Solomon, that the rod 
 and reproof give wisdom ; and it is peculiarly 
 applicable to such a chastisement of our heavenly 
 Fatiicr. It should therefore be our great care to 
 hear the rod and him that hath appointed it ; and 
 so far as it hath a tendency to teach us our duty, 
 and to improve tiie divine life in our souls, we 
 have the highest reason to say, that it is indeed 
 well. 
 
 Every allliction hath in its degree this kind of 
 tendency, and it is the very reason for which we are 
 thus chastened, that we may profit by our sorrows, 
 and be made partakers of God's holiness. But this 
 dispensation is particularly adapted, in a very 
 aflecting manner, — to teach us the vanity of the 
 world, — to warn us of the approach of our own 
 death, — to quicken us in the duties incumbent 
 upon us, especially to our surviving children, — and 
 to produce a more entire resignation to the divine 
 will, which is indeed the surest foundation of quiet, 
 and source of happiness. 
 
 I shall insist a little more particularly on each of 
 these ; and I desire that it may be remembered, 
 that tlie sight and knowledge of such mournful 
 providences as are now before us should, in some 
 degree, be improved to these purposes, even by those 
 parents whose families are most prosperous and 
 joyful: may they learn wisdom and piety from 
 what we suffer, and their improvements shall be 
 acknowledged as an additional reason for us to say, 
 It is well. 
 
 1. When God takes away our children from us, 
 it is a very affecting lesson of the vanity of the 
 world. 
 
 There is hardly a child born into it, on whom the 
 parents do not look with some pleasing expectation 
 that it shall comfort them concerning their labour. 
 This makes the toil of education easy and delight- 
 ful : and truly it is very early that we begi^ to find 
 a sweetness in it, which abundantly repays all 
 the fatigue. Five, or four, or three, or two years, 
 make discoveries which afford immediate pleasure, 
 and which suggest future hopes. Their words, their 
 actions, their very looks, touch us, (if they be 
 amiable and promising children,) in a tender, but 
 very powerful, manner; their little arms twine about 
 our hearts ; and there is something more penetrat- 
 ing in their first broken accents of endearment, than 
 in all the pomp and ornament of words. Every 
 infant year increases the pleasure, and nourishes 
 the hope. And where is the parent so wise and so 
 cautious, and so constantly intent on his journey to 
 heaven, as not to measure back a few steps to earth 
 again, on such a plausible and decent occasion, as 
 that of introducing the young stranger into the 
 amusements, nay perhaps, where circumstances 
 will admit it, into the elegances, of life, as well a* 
 its more serious and important business ? Whafj 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 fond calculations do we form of what it will be, 
 from what it is ! How do we in thought open every 
 blossom of sprightlincss, or humanity, or piety, to 
 its full spread, and ripen it to a sudden maturity ! 
 But, oh ! wlio shall teach those that have never felt 
 it, how it tears the very soul, when God roots up the 
 tender plant with an inexorable hand, and withers 
 the bud in which the colours were beginning to 
 glow ! Where is now our delight? where is our hope ? 
 Is it in the coffin ? Is it in the grave ? Alas ! all the 
 loveliness of person, of genius, and of temper, 
 serves but to point and to poison the arrow, which 
 is drawn out of our own quiver to wound us. Vain, 
 delusive, transitory joys ! " And such, O my soul," 
 will the Christian say, " such are thine earthly 
 comforts in every child, in every relative, in every 
 possession of life ; such are the objects of thy 
 hopes and thy fears, thy schemes and thy labours, 
 where earth alone is concerned. Let me then, once 
 for all, direct mine eyes to another and a better 
 state. From these broken cisterns, the fragments 
 of which may hurt me indeed, but can no longer 
 refresh me, let me look to the fountain of living 
 waters. From these setting stars, or rather these 
 bright but vanishing meteors, which make my 
 darkness so much the more sensible, let me turn to 
 the Father of lights. O Lord, what wait I for ? my 
 hope is in thee, my sure abode, my everlasting 
 confidence! My gourds wither, my children die; 
 but the Lord livcth, and blessed be my Rock, an<l 
 let the God of my salvation be exalted. I see, in 
 one instance more, the sad elleets of having over- 
 loved the creature ; let me endeavour for the future, 
 by the divine assistance, to fix my affections there 
 where thcj' cannot exceed ; but «here all the ardour 
 of them will be as much my security and my hap- 
 piness, as it is now my snare and my distress." 
 
 2. The removal of our children by such awful 
 Strokes may warn us of the approach of our own 
 death. 
 
 Hereby God doth very sensibly show us, and 
 those around us, that all flesh is as grass, and all 
 the glory and loveliness of it like the flower of tiic 
 field. And when our own habitations are made 
 the houses of mourning, and ourselves the leaders 
 of that sad procession, it may surely be expected 
 that we should lay it to heart, so as to be quickened 
 and improved by the view. " Have my children died 
 in the morning of their days, and can I promise 
 myself that I shall see the evening of mine ! Now 
 perhaps may I say, in a more literal sense than 
 ever, the graves are ready for me. One of my 
 family, and some of us may add, the first-born of 
 it, is gone, as it were, to take possession of the 
 sepulchre in all our names ; and ere long I shall 
 lie down with my child in the same bed ; yea, per- 
 haps, many of the feet that followed it shall attend 
 me thither. Our dust shortly shall be blended to- 
 
 SERMONS. 821 
 
 gether ; and who can tell but this providence might 
 chiefly be intended as a warning blow to me, that 
 these concluding days of my life might be more 
 regular, more spiritual, and more useful, than the 
 former ?" 
 
 3. The providence before us may be further 
 improved, to quicken us in the duties of life, 
 and especially in the education of surviving chil- 
 dren. 
 
 It is, on the principles I hinted above, an en- 
 gagement, that whatever our hand findeth to do, we 
 should do it with all our might, since it so plainly 
 shows us that we are going to the grave, where there 
 is no device, nor knowledge, nor working : but per- 
 mit me especially to observe, how peculiarly the 
 sentiments we feel on these sad occasions, may be 
 improved for the advantage of our dear offspring 
 who yet remain, and quicken us to a proper care in 
 their religious education. 
 
 We all see that it is a very reasonable duty, and 
 every Christian parent resolves that he will ere long 
 apply himself to it; but I am afraid, great advan- 
 tages are lost by a delay, which we think we can 
 easily excuse. Our hands are full of a variety of 
 affairs, and our children are yet very young: we 
 are therefore ready to imagine it is a good hus- 
 bandry of time to defer our attempts for their in- 
 struction to a more convenient season, when they 
 may be able to learn more in an hour, than the 
 labour of days could now teach them ; besides that 
 we are apprehensive of danger in overloading their 
 tender spirits, especially when they are perhaps 
 under indisposition, and need to be diverted, rather 
 then gravely advised and instructed. 
 
 But I beseech you, my friends, let us view the 
 matter with that impartiality which the eloquence 
 of death hath a tendency to produce. "That lovely 
 creature that God hath now taken away, though its 
 days were few, though its faculties were weak, yet 
 might it not have known a great deal mo'C of reli- 
 gion than it did, and felt a great deal more of it too, 
 had I faithfully and prudently done my part ? How 
 did it lc:irn language so soon, and in such a com- 
 pass and readiness? Not by multiplied rules, nor 
 laboured instruction, but by conversation. And 
 might it not have learned much more of divine 
 things by conversation too, if they had been allow- 
 ed a due share in our thoughts and our discourses ; 
 according to the charge given to the Israelites, to 
 talk of them going out and coming in, lying down 
 and rising up '. How soon did it learn trifles, and 
 retain them, and, after its little way, observe and 
 reason upon them, perhaps with a vivacity that 
 sometimes surprised me ! And had I been as dili- 
 gent as I ought, who can tell what progress it might 
 have made in divine knowlcvlge ? Who can tell but, 
 as a reward to these jjious cares, God might have 
 put a word into its dying lips, which I might all 
 
832 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 iny lift! Iinve rocollcoUid witli pleasure, and out of 
 its feehlo nioutli uiislit have perfected praise !" 
 
 My friends, let us humble ourselves deeply before 
 God un<lcr a sense of our past neglects, and let us 
 learn our future duty. We may perhaps be ready 
 fondly to say, " O that it were possible my 
 child eould be restored to me again, though it were 
 but for a few weeks or days! how diligently would 
 T atfenipt to supply my former delicieneics !" Un- 
 profitable wisli ! Yet may the thought be improved 
 for the good of surviving children. How shall we 
 express our affection to them? Not surely by in- 
 dulging all the demands of appetite and fancy, in 
 many early instances so hazardous, and so fatal ; 
 not by a solicitude to treasure up wealth for them, 
 whose only portion may perhaps be a little collin 
 and shroud. No ; our truest kindness to them will 
 be to endeavour, by divine grace, to form them to 
 an early inquiry after God, and Christ, and heaven, 
 and a love for real goodness in all the forms of it 
 which may come within their observation and 
 notice. Let us apply ourselves immediately to this 
 task, as those that remember there is a double un- 
 certainty in tlieir lives, and in ours. In a word, 
 let us be that with regard to every child that yet re- 
 mains, which we proposed and engaged to be to 
 that which is taken away, when we pleaded with 
 God for the continuance of its life, at least for a 
 little while, that it might be further assisted in the 
 preparations for death and eternity. If such reso- 
 lutions be formed and pursued, the death of ojic 
 may be the means of spiritual life to many ; and 
 we shall surely have reason to say it is well, if it 
 teach us so useful a lesson. 
 
 4. The providence before us may have a special 
 tendency to improve our resignation to the divine 
 will ; and if it does so, it will indeed be well. 
 
 There is surely no imaginable situation of mind 
 so sweet and so reasonable, as that which we feel 
 when we humbly refer ourselves in all things to the 
 divine disposal, in an entire suspension of our own 
 will, seeing and owning the haiul of God, and bow- 
 ing before it with a filial acquiescence. This is 
 chielly to be learned from suffering ; and perhaps 
 there is no suffering which is fitter to teach it, than 
 this. In many other afilietions there is such a mix- 
 ture of human interposition, that we are ready to 
 imagine, w<; may be allowed to complain and to 
 chide a little. Indignation mingles itself with our 
 grief; and when it does so, it warms the mind, 
 though with a feverish kind of heat, and, in an un- 
 natural How of spirits, leads the heart into a forget- 
 fulness of God. But here it is so apparently his 
 hand, that we must refer it to him, and it will ap- 
 pear bojd impiety to quarrel at what is done. In 
 other instances we can at least flatter ourselves with 
 hope, that the calamity may be diverted, or the en- 
 joyment recovered ; but here, alas ! there is no hope. 
 
 " Tears will not," as* Sir William Temple finely 
 expresses it, " water the lovely plant .so as to cause 
 it to grow again ; sighs will not give it new breath, 
 nor can we furnish it with life and spirits by the 
 wa.stc of our own." The sentence is finally gone 
 forth, and the last fatal stroke irrecoverably given. 
 Opposition is vain ; a forced submission gives but 
 little rest to the miud ; a cordial ac(|uiescencc in 
 the divine will is the only thing in the whole world 
 that can ease the labouring heart, and restore true 
 serenity. Remaining corruption will work on such 
 an occasion, and a painful struggle will convince 
 the Christian how imperfect his present attainments 
 are: and this will probably lead him to an atten- 
 tive review of the great reasons for submission; it 
 will lead him to urge them on his own soul, and to 
 plead (hem with God in prayer; till at length the 
 storm is laid, and tribulation worketh patience, and 
 patience experience, and experience a hope which 
 makcth not ashamed, while the love of God is so 
 shed abroad in the heart, as to humble it for every 
 preceding opposition ; and to bring it even to a real 
 approbation of all that so wise and good a friend 
 hath done ; resigning every other interest and en- 
 joyment to his disposal, and sitting down with the 
 sweet resolution of the ])rophet. Though the fig-tree 
 do not blossom, and there be no fruit in the vine, 
 &e. yet will I rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the 
 God of my salvation. And when we are brought to 
 this, the whole horizon clears, and the sun breaks 
 forth in its strength. 
 
 Now I appeal to every sincere Christian in this 
 assembly, whether there will not be reason indeed 
 to say It is well, if by this painful aflliction we more 
 sensibly learn the vanity of the creature ; if we are 
 awakened to serious thoughts of our own latter end ; 
 if by it we are quickened in the duties of life, and 
 formed to a more entire resignation of soul, and ac- 
 quiescence in the divine will. I will only add once 
 more, and it is a thought of delightful importance, 
 
 IV. That pious parents have reason to hope, it is 
 well with those dear creatures who are taken away 
 in their early <'ays. 
 
 I see not that the word of God hath any where 
 passed a damnatory sentence on any infants ; and 
 if it has not, I am sure we have no authority to do 
 it; especially, considering with how much com- 
 passion the Divine Being speaks of them in the 
 instance of the Nincvites, and on some other oc- 
 casions. Perhaps, as some pious divines have 
 conjectured, they may constitute a very considerable 
 part of the number of the elect; and, as in Adam 
 they all died, they may in Christ all be made alive. 
 At least, raethinks, from tlie covenant which God 
 made with Abraham and his seed, the blessings of 
 which are come upon the believing Gentiles, there 
 is reason to hope well concerning the infant off- 
 
 * Temple's Essays, Vol. I. p. 178. 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 spring of God's people, early devoted and often 
 recommended to him, that their souls will be bound 
 in the bundle of life, and be loved for their parents' 
 sakes. 
 
 It is, indeed, impossible for us to say how soon 
 children may be capable of contracting personal 
 guilt. They are quickly able to distinguish, in 
 some degree, between right and wrong ; and it is 
 too plain, that they as quickly, in many instances, 
 forget the distinction. The corruptions of nature 
 begin early to work, and show the need of sancti- 
 fying grace ; yet, without a miracle, it cannot be 
 expected that much of the Christian scheme should 
 be understood by these little creatures, in the first 
 tlawningof reason, though a few evangelical phrases 
 may be taught, and sometimes, by a hapjjy kind of 
 accident, may be rightly applied. The tender 
 heart of a parent may, perhaps, take a hint from 
 hence to terrify itself, and exasperate all its other 
 sorrows, by that sad thought, " What if my dear 
 child be perished for ever ! — gone from our em- 
 braces, and all the little pleasures we could give it, 
 to everlasting darkness and pain !" Horrible ima- 
 gination ! and Satan may, perhaps, take the advan- 
 tage of these gloomy moments, to aggravate every 
 little infirmity into a crime, and to throw us into an 
 agony, which no otiicr view of the aflliction can 
 possibly give, to a soul penetrated with a sense o! 
 eternity. Nor do I know a thought, in the whole 
 compass of nature, that hath a more powerful ten- 
 dency to produce suspicious notions of God, and a 
 secret alienation of heart from him. 
 
 Now for this very reason, methinks, we should 
 guard against so harsh a conclusion, lest we at once 
 injure the Divine Being, and torture ourselves. 
 And, surely, we may easily fall on some reflection ^ 
 which may encourage our hopes, where little chil- 
 dren are concerned ; and it is only of that case that 
 I am now speaking. Let us think of the blessed 
 God, as the great parent of universal nature ; whose 
 tender mercies are over all his works ; w ho declares 
 that judgment is his strange work; who is very 
 pitiful, and of tender mercy, gracious, and full of 
 compassion ; who delightcth in mercy ; w ho waiteth 
 to be gracious ; and cndurctli, with much long-suf- 
 fering, even the vessels of wrath fitted to destruc- 
 tion. He intimately knows our frame, and our cir- 
 cumstances ; he sees the weakness of the unformed 
 mind ; how forcibly the volatile spirits are struck 
 with a thousand new amusing objects around it, and 
 borne away as a feather before the wind ; and, on 
 the other hand, how when distempers seize it, the 
 feeble powers are overborne in a moment, and ren- 
 dered incapable of any degree of a|)plication and 
 attention. And, Lord, wilt thou open thine eyes 
 on such a one, to bring it into strict judgment with 
 thee ? Amidst all the instances of thy patience and 
 thy bounty to the most abandoned of mankind, arc 
 
 SERMONS. 823 
 
 these little helpless creatures the objects of thy 
 speedy vengeance and final severity ? 
 
 Let us further consider, as it is a very comfort- 
 able thought in these circumstances, the compas- 
 sionate regard which the blessed Jesus expressed 
 to little children. He was much displeased with 
 those who forbade their being brought to him ; and 
 said, vSufterthem to come unto me, and forbid them 
 not, for of such is the kingdom of God ; and taking 
 tlicm up in his arms, he laid his hands upon them, 
 and blessed them. In another instance we are told, 
 that he took a little child, (who appears to have 
 been old enough to come at his call,) and set him 
 in the midst of his disciples, and said, Except ye 
 become as little children, you .shall in nowise enter 
 into the kingdom of heaven. May we not then 
 hope that many little children arc admitted into it ? 
 And may not that hope be greatly conlirmed from 
 w hatever, of an amiable and regular disposition, we 
 have observed in those that are taken away? If we 
 have seen* a tenderness of conscience, in any thing 
 which they apprehend would displease the great 
 and good God ; a love to truth ; a readiness to at- 
 tend on divine worship, from some imperfect notion 
 of its general design, though the particulars of it 
 could not be understood ; an open, candid, benevo- 
 lent heart ; a tender sense of obligation, and a 
 desire, according to their little power, to repay it ; 
 may we not hope that these were some of the first 
 fruits of the Spirit, which he would, in due time, 
 have ripened into Christian graces, and are now, on 
 a sudden, perfected by that great almighty Agent 
 who worketh all, and in all ? 
 
 Sure I am, that this blessed Spirit hath no incon- 
 siderable work to perform on the most established 
 Christians, to finish them to a complete meetncss 
 for the heavenly world ; would to God there were 
 no greater blemishes to be observed in their charac- 
 ter, than the little vanities of children ! With in- 
 finite ease then can he perfect what is lacking in 
 their unfinished minds, and pour out upon them, 
 in a moment, that light and grace, which shall 
 qualify them for a state, in comparison of which, 
 ours on earth is but childhood or infancy. 
 
 Now what a noble source of consolation is here ! 
 Then may the aflcctionate parent say, " It is well, 
 not only with nic, but with the child too : incom- 
 parably better than if my ardent wishes, and im- 
 portunate prayers, for its recovery had been 
 answered. It is indeed well, if that beloved crea- 
 ture be fallen asleep in Christ ; if that dear lamb 
 1)0 folded in the arms of the compassionate Shep- 
 herd, and gathered into his gracious bosom. Self- 
 love might have led me to wish its longer continu- 
 ance here ; but if I truly loved my child with a 
 solid, rational affection, I should much rather rc- 
 
 * I God, all these lliinp;s were very evident in thai dear child 
 uliosc death occasioned this Discourse. 
 
824 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 joice, to tliiiik, it is jfoiie to a lieavenly Father, and 
 to tbc world of pertVctcd spirits above. Had it 
 been spared to ine, how slowly could I have taught 
 it! and in the full ripeness of its a^e, what had it 
 been, when eoinpared with what it now is! How is 
 it shot up on a sudden, from the converse and the 
 toys of children, to be a companion witii saints and 
 aniiels, in the employment and the blessedness of 
 lieaven ! Shall 1 then complain of it as a rig^orous 
 severity to my family, that God hath taken it to the 
 family above? And what if he hath chosen to be- 
 stow the distinguished favour on that one of my 
 little llock, who was formed to take the tenderest 
 liold of my heart ! Was there nnkindness in that .' 
 What if he saw that the very sprightliness and 
 softness which made it to me so exquisitely delight- 
 ful, might, in time, have betrayed it into ruin ; and 
 took this method of sheltering it from trials which 
 had otherwise been too hard for it, and so fixing a 
 seal on its character and happiness ? What if that 
 strong attachment of my heart to it, had been a 
 snare to the child and to me? or what if it had 
 been otiierwise ? Do I need additional reasons to 
 justify the divine conduct, in an instance which 
 my child is celebrating in the songs of heaven ? If 
 it is a new and untasted affliction to have such a 
 tender branch lopped ofl", it is also a new honour to 
 be the parent of a glorified saint." And, as good 
 Mr. Howe expressed it on another occasion, " If 
 God be pleased, and his glorified creature be 
 pleased, who arc we that we should be dis- 
 pleased !"* 
 
 " Could I wish, that this young inhabitant of 
 heaven should be degraded to earth again ? or 
 would it thank me for that wish? Would it say, 
 that it was the part of a wise parent, to call it down 
 from a sphere of such exalted services and plea- 
 sures, to our low life here upon earth ? Let me 
 rather be thankful for the pleasing hope, that 
 though God loves my child too well to permit it to 
 return to me, he will ere long bring me to it. And 
 then that endeared paternal affection, which would 
 have been a cord to tie me to earth, and have added 
 new pangs to my removal from it, will be as a 
 golden chain to draw me upwards, and add one 
 further charm and joy even to paradise itself." 
 And O, how great a joy ! to view the change, and 
 to compare that dear idea, so fondly laid up, so 
 often reviewed, with the now glorious original, in 
 the improvements of the upper world! To borrow 
 the words of the sacred writer, in a very different 
 sense ; " I said, I was desolate and bereaved of 
 children, and who hath brought up these ? I was 
 left alone, and these, where have they been ? Was 
 this my desolation ? this my sorrow ? to part with 
 thee for a few days, that I miglit receive thee for 
 ever, and find thee what thou art ?" It is for no 
 
 * Howe's Life, pag. 32. folio edit. 
 
 language, but that of heaven, to describe the sacred 
 joy which such a meeting must occasion. 
 
 In the mean time. Christians, let us keep up the 
 lively expectation of it, and let what has befallen 
 us draw our thoughts upwards. Perhaps they will 
 sometimes, before we arc aware, sink to the grave, 
 and dwell in the tombs that contain the poor re- 
 mains of what was once so dear to us. But let 
 them take flight from thence to more noble, more 
 delightful, scenes. And I will add, let the hope we 
 have of the happiness of our children render God 
 still dearer to our souls. We feel a very tender 
 sense of the kindness which our friends expressed 
 towards them, and think, indeed very justly, that 
 their affectionate care for them lays a lasting obli- 
 gation upon us. What love then, and what service, 
 do we owe to thee, O gracious Father, who hast, we 
 hope, received them there into thine house above, 
 and art now entertaining them there with unknown 
 delight, though our former methods of commerce 
 with them be cut off! " Lord," should eacfi of 
 us say in such a ease, " I would take what thou art 
 doing to my child as done to myself, and as a spe- 
 cimen and earnest of what shall shortly be done." 
 It is therefore well. 
 
 It only remains, that I conclude with a few hints 
 of further improvement. 
 
 1. Let pious parents, who have lost hopeful 
 children in maturer age, join with others in saying. 
 It is well. 
 
 My friends, the reasons which I have been urging 
 at large, are common to you with us ; and permit 
 me to add, that as your case has its peculiar dis- 
 tress, it has, I think, in a yet greater degree, its 
 peculiar consolations too. 
 
 I know you will say, that it is inexpressibly 
 grievous and painful, to part with children who 
 were grown up into most amiable friends, who were 
 your companions in the ways of God, and concern- 
 ing whom you had a most agreeable prospect, that 
 they would have been the ornaments and supports 
 of religion in the rising age, and extensive blessings 
 to the world, long after you had quitted it. These 
 reasonings have, undoubtedly, their weight ; and 
 they have so, when considered in a very different 
 view. Must you not acknowledge it is well, that you 
 enjoyed so many years of comfort in them ? that you 
 reaped so much solid satisfaction from them? and 
 saw those evidences of a work of grace upon their 
 hearts, which give you such abundant reason to 
 conclude that they are now received into that in- 
 heritance of glory, for which they were so apparently 
 made meet ? Some of them, perhaps, had already 
 quitted their fathers' house : as for others, had God 
 spared their lives, they might have been transplanted 
 into families of their own : and if, instead of being 
 rcuiovcd to another house, or town, or country, they 
 are taken by God into another world, is that a mat- 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 tcr of so great complaint ; when that world is so 
 much better, and you are yourselves so near it ? I 
 put it to your hearts. Christians, would you rather 
 have chosen to have buried them in their infancy, or 
 never to have known the joys and the hopes of a 
 parent, now you know the vicissitude of sorrow, and 
 of disappointment ? But perhaps you will say, 
 that you chiefly grieve for that loss which the world 
 has sustained by the removal of those, from whom 
 it might reasonably have expected so much future 
 service. This is, indeed, a generotis and a Chris- 
 tian sentiment, and there is something noble in those 
 tears which flow on such a consideration. But do 
 not so remember your relation to earth, as to forget 
 that which you bear to heaven : and do not so 
 wrong the divine wisdom and goodness, as to sup- 
 pose, that when he takes away from hence promising 
 instruments of service, he there lays them by as 
 useless. Much more reasonable is it to conclude, 
 that their sphere of action, as well as happiness, is 
 enlarged, and that the church above hath gained 
 incomparably more, than that below can be sup- 
 posed to have lost by their death. 
 
 On tlie whole, therefore, far from complaining 
 of the divine conduct in this respect, it will become 
 you, my friends, rather to be very thankful that 
 these dear children were spared so long, to accom- 
 pany and entertain you in so many stages of your 
 short journey through life, to answer so many of 
 your hopes, and to establish so many more beyond 
 all fear of disappointment. Reflect on all that God 
 did in and upon them, on all he was beginning to 
 do by tlicm, and on what you have great reason to 
 believe he is now doing for them ; and adore his 
 name, that he has left you these dear memorials, 
 by which your case is so happily distinguished from 
 ours, whose hopes in our children withered in the 
 very bud ; or from theirs, who saw those who were 
 once so dear to them, perishing, as they have cause 
 to fear, in the patlis of the destroyer. 
 
 But while I speak thus, mcthinks I an; alarmed, 
 lest I should awaken the far more grievous sorrows 
 of some mournful parent, whom it will not be so 
 easy to comfort. My bretliren and friends, what 
 shall I say to you, who are lamenting over your 
 Absaloms, and almost wishing you had died for 
 them ? Shall I urge you to say it is well ? Perhaps 
 you may think it a great attainment, if, as Aaron, 
 when his sons died before the Lord, you can hold 
 your peace under the awful stroke. My soul is trou- 
 bled for you ; my words are almost swallowed up. 
 I cannot unsay what I have elsewhere said at large 
 on tliat melancholy subject.* Yet let me remind 
 you of this, that you do not certainly know what 
 almighty grace might do for these lamented crea- 
 tures, even in the latest moments, and have there- 
 
 * In the sixth of my Sermons to Young Persons, pntillcd, The Re. 
 flections of a pious Parent on the Death of a wicked Child. 
 
 SERMONS. 825 
 
 fore no warrant confidently to pronounce that they 
 are assuredly perished. And if you cannot but 
 tremble in the too probable fear of it, labour to 
 turn your eyes from so dark a prospect to those 
 better hopes which God is setting before you. For 
 surely you still have abundant reason to rejoice in 
 that grace, which gives your own lives to you as a 
 prey, and has brought you so near to that blessed 
 world, where, hard as it is now to conceive it, you 
 will have laid aside every affection of nature, which 
 interferes with the interests of God, and prevents 
 your most cheerful acquiescence in every particular 
 of his wise and gracious determinations. 
 
 2. From what we have heard, let us learn not 
 to think of the loss of our children with a slavish 
 dread. 
 
 It is to a parent indeed such a cutting stroke, 
 that I wonder not if nature shrink back at the very 
 mention of it : and, perhaps, it would make those 
 to whom God hath denied children more easy, if 
 they knew what some of the happiest parents feel 
 in an uncertain apprehension of the loss of theirs : 
 an apprehension which strikes with peculiar force 
 on the mind, when experience hath taught us the 
 anguish of such an aflliction in former instances. 
 But let us not anticipate evils : perhaps all our 
 children, who are hitherto spared, may follow us to 
 the grave : or, if otherwise, we sorrow not as those 
 who have no hope. We may have reason still to 
 say. It is well ; and through divine grace, wc may 
 also have hearts to say it. Whatever we lose, if 
 we be the children of God, we shall never lose our 
 heavenly Father. He will still be our support, and 
 our joy. And therefore let us turn all our anxiety 
 about uncertain, future events, into a holy solici- 
 tude to please him, and to promote religious im- 
 pressions in the hearts of our dear offspring ; that 
 if God should see fit to take them away, we may 
 have a cjaim to the full consolations which I have 
 been representing in the preceding discourse. 
 
 3. Let us not sink in hopeless sorrow, or break 
 out into clamorous complaints, if God has brought 
 this heavy aflliction upon us. 
 
 A stupid indiircrcnce would be absurd and un- 
 natural : God and man might look upon us as acting 
 a most unworthy part, should wc be like the ostrich 
 in the wilderness, which hardencth herself against 
 her young ones, as if they were not hers; because 
 God hath deprived her of wisdom, neither hath he 
 imparted to her understanding. Let us sorrow like 
 men, and like parents ; but let us not, in the mean 
 time, forget that we are Christians. Let us rcTiicm- 
 ber how common the calamity is ; few parents are 
 exempt from it; some of the most pious and ex- 
 cellent have lost amiable children, with circum- 
 stances perhaps of peculiar aggravation. It is a 
 trial which God hath chosen for the ext;rcisc of 
 some who have been eminently dear to him, as we 
 
8-2(1 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 may Icani from a variely of instances botli ancient 
 and modern. Let us rceollrct our many oH'enecs 
 against onr lieavenly Father, those sins which siicli 
 a dispensation may properly brin^ to our remem- 
 brance ; and let that silence us, and teach us to 
 own, tliat it is of the Lord's mercies we are not 
 consumed, and tliat we are punished less than our 
 iniquities deserve. Let us look round on our sur- 
 viving comforts ; let us look forward to our future, 
 our eternal, hopes ; and wc shall surely see, that 
 there is still room for praise, still a call for it. 
 Let us review the particulars mentioned above, and 
 then let conscience determine whether it doth not 
 become us, in this particular instance, to say it 
 steadily, and cheerfully too, Even this is well. And 
 may tiie God of all grace and comfort apply these 
 considerations to our mind, that we may not only 
 own them, but feel them as a reviving- cordial, when 
 our heart is overwhelmed within us ! In the mean 
 time, let me beseech you whose tabernacles are in 
 peace, and whose children are 3'et about you, that 
 you would not be severe in censuring our tears, till 
 you have experimentally known our sorrows, and 
 yourselves tasted the wormwood and the gall, which 
 we, with all our comforts, must have in a long and 
 bitter remembrance. 
 
 4. Let those of us who are under the rod, be very 
 solicitous to improve it aright, that in the end it 
 may indeed be well. 
 
 Hear, my brethren, my friends and fellow-suf- 
 ferers, hear and sufler the word of exhortation. Let 
 us be much concerned, that we may not bear all the 
 smart of sucli an affliction, and, through our own 
 folly, lose all that benefit which might, otherwise, 
 be a rich equivalent. In proportion to the gricvous- 
 ness of the stroke, should be our care to attend to 
 the design of it. Let us, now God is calling us to 
 mourning and lamentation, be searching and trying 
 our ways, that we may turn again unto the Lord. 
 Let us review the conduct of our lives, and the 
 state and tenor of our aft'eetions, that we may 
 observe what hath been deficient, and what irre- 
 gular ; that proper remedies may l)e applied, and 
 those important lessons more thoroughly learnt, 
 which I was mentioning under the former branch 
 of my Discourse. Let us ptay, that through our 
 tears we maj' read our duty, and that by the heat of 
 the furnace we may be so melted, that our dross 
 may be purged away, and the divine image in- 
 stamped on our souls in brighter and fairer cha- 
 racters. To sum up all in one word, let us endea- 
 vour to set our hearts more on that God, who is 
 infinitely better to us than ten children, who hath 
 given us a name better than tliat of sons and 
 daughters, and can abundantly supply the place of 
 
 all earthly enjoyments with the rich communica- 
 ti<ms of his grace : nay, perhaps, we may add, who 
 hath removed some darling of our hearts, lest to 
 our infinite detriment it should fill his place there, 
 and, by alienating us from his love and service, 
 have a fatal influence on our present peace and 
 our future happiness. 
 
 Eternal glory, my friends, is so great a thing, 
 and the complete love and enjoyment of God so 
 unutterably desirable, that it is well worth our 
 while to bear the sharpest sorrows, by which we 
 may be more perfectly formed for it. We may even 
 congratulate the death of our children, if it bring 
 us nearer to our heavenly Father ; and teach us, 
 (instead of filling ttiis vacancy in our heart with 
 some new vanity, which may shortly renew our 
 sorrows,) to consecrate the w hole of it to him who 
 alone deserves, and can alone answer, the most in- 
 tense affection. Let us try what of this kind may be 
 done. We are now going to the table of the Lord ;* 
 to that very table where our vows have often been 
 scaled, where our comforts have often been resigned, 
 where our Isaacs have been conditionally sacrificed, 
 and where we commemorate the real sacrifice which 
 God hath made, even of his only-begotten Son, for 
 us. May our other sorrows be suspended, while we 
 mourn for him whom we have pierced as for an 
 only Son, and are in bitterness as for a first-born. 
 From his blood consolations spring up, which will 
 flourish even on the graves of our dear children ; 
 and the sweetness of that cup which he the:e gives 
 us, will temper the most distasteful ingredients of 
 the other. Our houses are not so with God, as they 
 once were, as we once expected they would have 
 been, but he hath made with us an everlasting 
 covenant, and these are the tokens of it. Blessed 
 be his name, we hold not the mercies of that cove- 
 nant by so precarious a tenure as the life of any 
 creature : it is well ordered in all things and sure : 
 may it be all our salvation, and all our desire ; and 
 then it is but a little while, and all our complaints 
 will cease. God will wipe away these tears from 
 our eyes ; our peaceful and happy spirits shall, ere 
 long, meet with those of our children which he hath 
 taken to himself. Our bodies shall sleep, and, ere 
 long, shall also awake, and arise with theirs. 
 Death, that inexorable destroyer, shall be swal- 
 lowed up in victory, while we and ours surround 
 the tlirone with everlasting hallelujahs, and ov/n, 
 with another evidence than we can now perceive, 
 with another spirit than we can now express, that 
 all was indeed well. Amen. 
 
 * N. B. This sermon was preached October 3, 1730, it being sacra, 
 mcnt day. The child died October I. 
 
SERMON VII. 
 
 PRACTICAL REFLECTIONS ON THE CHARACTER AND TRANSLATION 
 
 OF ENOCH * 
 
 Genesis v. 24. 
 
 A nd Enoch walked with God, and he was not ; for 
 God took him. 
 
 The apostle gives it in charge to the believing 
 Hebrews, that they should remember those who had 
 presided over them, and had spoken to them the 
 word of the gospel, well knowing it would be one 
 sweet and powerful engagement, to follow their 
 faith, especially when they considered the end of 
 their conversation. 
 
 I persuade myself, that it will be a very easy 
 matter for you, my friends, to remember that dear 
 and faithful servant of Christ, who, for so many 
 years, t had the pastoral care of you, guiding you, 
 at once, in tlie integrity of his heart, and in the 
 skilfulness of his hands. You who have grown up, 
 aud, as to some I may add, have grovvn old too, under 
 his ministry, will surely find the recollection, not- 
 withstanding all the sorrow that must now attend it, 
 both too edifying and too delightful to be neglected. 
 You must, no doubt, find some memorials of him, in 
 various places and circumstances of life ; but none 
 more numerous, and none more pleasing, than your 
 Bibles will aflord you. How many awakening 
 exhortations, how many comprehensive prccejjts, 
 how many precious promises, have you, from sab- 
 bath to sabbath, heard him unfold ! How many 
 instructive and amiable examples have you not 
 only heard, but seen him illustrate ! It was the 
 care and joy of his life, to form himself on those 
 great models ; and beholding them in the glass of 
 Scripture, he was changed into the same image. In 
 those originals therefore you will often trace him, 
 and in which of them is not the resemblance 
 beautifully conspicuous ? Yet perhaps in few of the 
 miniatures which are there drawn, is it more re- 
 markably so, than in the account given of Enoch. 
 He walked with God, and he was not, for God took 
 hira. As soon as you heard me read the words, you 
 with pleasure saw how well they expres.sed, both 
 the distinguished piety of your late minister's 
 
 * Treadled ,at Wclfonl, in Nortliamptonsliirc, Marrli 9, 17,37-8, 
 on occasion of the much-lamented death of the late Rev. Mr. Juhil 
 ?Jorri«. 
 
 t N n. Mr. Norris died Feh. 8, 17.37-8, in the 63il year of his age, 
 having been near 38 years minister at VVelford. 
 
 character, and the ease and suddenness of his 
 removal from us. 
 
 It is impossible for me to express the tender 
 sympathy, w ith which I undertake this melancholy 
 office, which my honoured father was pleased to 
 assign me. But I will attempt to break through the 
 dilliculty, and to suppress the fulness of my heart, 
 so far as it would obstruct what I have to say, in 
 humble hope, that, through the divine blessing, 
 that which was the great end of his life and labours 
 among you, may in some measure be promoted by 
 this Discourse, occasioned by his death. And, I 
 am persuaded, nothing will so nobly support your 
 hearts under this sad separation, or so cffectiially 
 secure and promote the pleasure of your future 
 meeting w ith him, as a diligent care to be followers 
 of hira, as he was a follower of Enoch, and all the 
 saints, in that holy course of walking with God, 
 which is now to be the subject of our meditation. 
 And that you may be both directed and animated 
 in it, we will. 
 
 First, Explain the view given us of Enoch's life 
 and character. He walked with God. 
 
 Secondly, Consider the happy close of this pious 
 course. He was not, for God took him. 
 
 When I have handled these heads as fully as the 
 time will admit, I shall. 
 
 Thirdly, Conclude with some practical reflections, 
 and an address peculiarly suited to that awful pro- 
 vidence which hath brought mc among you this 
 day. 
 
 And permit me to remind you, that your serious 
 attention to what shall now be spoken, is one part, 
 of the respect which you owe to the memory of that 
 worthy and excellent man, in whose place I stand. 
 
 First, Let us attentively survey the account 
 which is here given us of the life and character of 
 Enoch. 
 
 It is said, that he walked with God ; a phrase 
 which thesame sacred historian useth conecrniogone 
 of Enoch's descendants,?, e. Noah : He was a just 
 man, and perfect in his generation, and Noah walk- 
 ed with God. And when it is said of other good 
 men, that they walked before the Lord, it seems to 
 be an expression much of the same import, and im- 
 plies, that in the main series of their lives they 
 maintained a firm persuasion of the being and per- 
 
828 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 fections of Cofl, and of tlie other important princi- 
 ples oF rcli-jion ; and that in consequence of this 
 they were careful to beliavc as in the divine pre- 
 sence ; and on the other hand, that they were 
 honoured with some {gracious and comfortable tokens 
 of the divine acceptance and favour ; in a word, 
 that there was a mutual friendship established and 
 exercised between God and them. Blessed charac- 
 ter, and liappy state ! May we be formed to it, and 
 improved in it, wliile we more particularly review 
 it in tliis instance of Enoch. 
 
 1. When it is said that Enoch walked with God, 
 it evidently implies, that he had a firm persuasion 
 of the divine being and perfections, and the other 
 important principles of true religion. 
 
 Of tliis tlie apostle expressly assures us, and ar- 
 gues it from the account here given of him. He 
 had before his translation this testimony, tliat he 
 pleased God ; but wifliout faith it is impossible to 
 please liim ; for he that cometh to God, must believe 
 that he is, and that he is the rewarder of them that 
 diligently seek him. 
 
 Enoch had undoubtedly tliis faith, by whieli he 
 believed, that the worlds were made by God, and 
 that he is the great supporter of all. He certainly 
 traced him in his works of creation and providence, 
 and considered him both as the greatest and the 
 best of beings. He was firmly persuaded of his im- 
 mutable existence, his almighty power, and un- 
 searchable wisdom ; and he also considered him as 
 the wise, the righteous, and gracious governor of 
 bis rational creatures ; the father, the guide, and 
 the portion, of his people. Without these reveren- 
 tial and these fiducial regards, what foundation or 
 what encouragement could there have been for liis 
 walking with God .' 
 
 On these principles Enoch would easily infer the 
 certainty of a future state of rewards and punish- 
 ments ; considering how little the present adminis- 
 trations of Providence bear the face of a final retri- 
 bution. We are also assured by St. Jude, that he, 
 by divine revelation, prophesie 1 of the judgment- 
 day, and may from that hint probably conjecture, 
 that other important ai tides of religion might in 
 such an extraordinary way be discovered to him. 
 We may especially conclude, that being thus 
 divinely instructed in the certainty and pomp of 
 Christ's second coming, he was not left entirely ig- 
 norant of the purposes of his first appearance. And 
 no doubt Adam, who was for the last three hundred 
 years of his life contemporary with Enoch, would 
 not fail to acquaint him with that first important 
 promise relating to the seed of the woman, as the 
 noblest support to the hopes of a guilty creature. 
 
 It is indeed impossible for us to determine, how 
 far his views of the Messiah reached ; but it is 
 highly congruous to the rest of his character, to 
 conclude, that he traced every intimation of this 
 
 glorious Deliverer with pleasure, and joyfully 
 accepted him, so far as he was made known, as the 
 great medium of his reconciliation to God, and 
 converse with him. 
 
 2. In consequence of this persuasion of the great 
 truths of religion, Enoch made it his care to behave 
 as in the divine presence. 
 
 He walked with God, /. e. he hal)itually conduct- 
 ed himself as one that was with God. And, as it is 
 said of Moses, he endured and acted as seeing him 
 who is invisible. It may be worth our while, more 
 particularly to consider, how this would influence 
 his secret, his domestic, and his public conduct. 
 
 We may assure ourselves that it had a great in- 
 fluence upon him in secret, not only to restrain him 
 from secret sins, but to excite him to the discharge 
 of those secret duties which a present Deity so rea- 
 sonably requires, and which they that have a suit- 
 able sense of his presence cannot omit. This cer- 
 tainly led him to spend many an hour in devout 
 retirement, meditation, and prayer: and we may 
 reasonably conclude, that the good man was never 
 less alone than when he was alone. He probably 
 never made nearer approaches to heaven before his 
 translation thither, than when he had got rid of other 
 cares, other amusements, and other company ; that 
 he might be all at leisure for his God. 
 
 It is also very evident, that this sense of the 
 divine presence must have influenced Enoch in his 
 domestic life. Short as the Mosaic history of this 
 holy man is, we learn from it, that he was the 
 master of a family, and stood in the relation of a 
 husband and a parent ; and, which is something 
 remarkable, we do not find that any of the patriarchs 
 married younger than he ; for his son Methuselah 
 was born in his sixty-fifth year ; which, considering 
 the age of men in the antediluvian world, must be 
 the bloom of his father's youth. With this family 
 he lived three hundred years, governing himself, 
 no doubt, by a resolution like that of pious .Joshua, 
 That he and his house would serve the Lord. His 
 care would be, like that of Abraham in after-ages, 
 to command his household after him to keep the 
 way of the Lord. 
 
 He would probably often call them together to 
 join in sacrifice and prayer; when perhaps his 
 children, as we read of Job's, were remembered, 
 according to the number of them all. He could 
 not but be solicitous to train them up in the nur- 
 ture and admonition of the Lord, that they might 
 learn to know the God of their fathers, and be in- 
 clined to serve him with a perfect heart and a will- ^ 
 ing mind. 
 
 And he would be sure to enforce all his precepts 
 by a good example. A soul so habitually near to 
 God, and so constantly sensible of his presence, 
 must be open to aU the tenderest sentiments of 
 humanity and benevolence. He would, of course. 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 study to make every body about him easy and happy, 
 and, like your venerable and beloved pastor now 
 with God, would wear a constant smile on his 
 countenance, which he probably saw reflected from 
 the face of every child and servant in the family. 
 Happy were they that resided in it! for surely 
 they might have continued there from one cen- 
 tury to another with growing improvement and 
 delight. 
 
 And could we have traced Enoch into public life, 
 we should undoubtedly have found that part of his 
 character agreeable to the rest. Like Jesus, he 
 went about doing good, his head still full of wise 
 schemes, and his heart overMowing with benevolent 
 affections ; so that whatever advantages his rank 
 and circumstances gave him, were faithfully em- 
 ployed for the common good. We may conclude, 
 that such a person was approved by men, as well 
 as accepted of God, that, " when the eye saw him 
 it blessed him, and when the ear heard him it gave 
 witness to him." 
 
 There is great reason to believe, that his lips as 
 well as his hands fed many ; and so much the 
 rather, as he was a prophet commissioned by God to 
 teach the people, and to bring them some extraor- 
 dinary revelations from him. Thus we read, in 
 words which I hinted at above. That Enoch, the 
 seventh from Adam, prophesied, saying. Behold, 
 the Lord cometh with myriads of his saints, or holy 
 ones, to execute judgment upon all ; and to con- 
 vince all that are ungodly among them, of all their 
 ungodly deeds which they have impiously com- 
 mitted, and of all their hard speeches which un- 
 godly sinners have spoken against him. Froni 
 whence it plainly appears, that he lived in a very 
 degenerate age, when impiety and immorality 
 abounded, when insolent sinners, as in our days, 
 set their mouths against the heavens, and gave 
 their tongues an unbridled licence of walking 
 through the earth, liut he bore his undaunted tes- 
 timonies to the truth of God in the midst of all their 
 opposition and contempt. He resolutely set his face 
 like a (lint, as he well knew that in such a cause he 
 should never be ashamed. His heart, humane and 
 tender as it was, could not but we warmed with a 
 generous indignation at the dishonours which were 
 done to the divine Majesty, and knowing the terrors 
 of the Lord, he endeavoured to persuade men. We 
 would hope his endeavours were not entirely in 
 vain, but that, through the concurrence of divine 
 grace, he was the happy instrument of stemming 
 the torrent for a while, or at least of recovering and 
 preserving a few, who might be the companions of 
 his walk with God here, and are now his associates 
 in glory. 
 
 Such a governing care to approve the main scries 
 of his private, domestic, and public conduct to the 
 Being in whose presence he always knew himself 
 
 SERMONS. 829 
 
 to be, must surely be comprehended in the phrase 
 before us ; and it will be pleasant to consider, 
 
 3. That the expression further intimates his being 
 honoured with corresponding tokens of the divine 
 acceptance and favour. 
 
 Enoch walked with God ; and can two walk 
 together, except they be agreed! It plainly implies, 
 that he lived in a state of friendship with God ; or, 
 as the apostle expresseth it, even before his trans- 
 lation had a testimony that he pleased him. Thou 
 meetest, saith the prophet, him that rejoiceth and 
 worketh righteousness, even such as remember thee 
 in their ways. Thus did Enoch remember Goil, 
 and thus was he visited by him. The high and 
 lofty One who inhabiteth eternity, who dwelleth in 
 the high and the holy place, condescended to dwell 
 with this holy man, as he was humble, and of a 
 contrite spirit. 
 
 Public assemblies for divine worship were, no 
 doubt, seasons of delightful converse with God ; 
 and Enoch would on that account honour and love 
 them, whoever might forsake them, whoever might 
 despise them. And in his house and his retire- 
 ments, his journeys, and his converse with his 
 friends, he had God still with him. He walked in 
 the light of God's countenance, and was surely 
 looking up often in a day, often in an hour, and 
 saw by faith the most delightful sight on this side 
 heaven, or even in heaven itself, the smiling face 
 of a reconciled God and Father. He felt the gentle 
 elapses of the divine love shed abroad in his heart 
 by the Spirit given unto him, which, no doubt, 
 though under a darker dispensation, witnessed with 
 his spirit, that he was a child of God, and an heir 
 of eternal glory. 
 
 As piety was the source of all his social and per- 
 sonal virtues, the fragrancy of it, as a sacred per- 
 fume, would mingle itself delightfully with all his 
 social and personal enjoyments, and heighten them 
 to a degree unknown to those who have not thus 
 tasted the joys which a stranger intermeddleth not 
 with. In every advantageous circumstance of life 
 he saw and observed the hand of the divine bounty ; 
 and discerning also the interposition of the same 
 providence in all his afllictions, (for aOlictions he 
 undoubtedly had,) he not only submitted to them 
 in humble silence, but cordially acquiesced in 
 them all, as the means which infinite wisdom and 
 goodness had chosen to carry on his own kind 
 designs, for his final everlasting happiness. 
 
 And such universally are the ways, and such the 
 supports and pleasures, of those who walk with 
 God. Happy the men that are in such a case ; yea, 
 happy the men whose God is the Lord ; happy they 
 by whom he is thus constantly owned and regarded, 
 honoured and enjoyed. I persuade myself, that 
 after such a description, I need not insist largely 
 on the dignity, tho security, and the delights of 
 
H30 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 such a life, especially as it is to be the business of 
 my second sceneral head. 
 
 Secondly, To consider the happy close of this 
 pious course. He was not ; for (Jod took him. 
 
 For the further illustration of which, you will 
 observe, — that he was early and suddenly removed 
 from our world, — tiiat he was taken to dwell with 
 God.- -and that he was received to that happy state 
 in a miraculous and unparalleled way. All tliese 
 particulars evidently appear from the aeciount 
 which Moses gfives of this important fact, as illus- 
 trated by the writers of the New Testament. 
 
 1. Enoch was early and suddenly removed from 
 our world. 
 
 He was not, i. c. he was no longer here. You 
 may perhaps w^onder that I should speak of his 
 early remove, when you recollect that he was then 
 three hundred and sixty-five years old. But you 
 will not blame the expression, when you consider 
 the lonfj lives of men in those antediluvian ag;es, to 
 which this period bore but a small proportion. As 
 his son Methuselah lived nine hundred and sixty- 
 nine years, so his fatiier Jared attained to nine 
 hundred and sixty-two years ; and therefore, being 
 one hundred and sixty-two years old at his birth, 
 continued in the world four hundred and thirty-five 
 years after Enoch liad left it ; whose age at the 
 time of his translation answered to about the thirty- 
 first or thirty-second year of life at present, which 
 you know is just the vigour and prime of it. But 
 he had undoubtedly lived much in a little time, 
 and had done more for God before he liad reached 
 what was tlien accounted the meridian of life, than 
 many who had outstripped him in age by several 
 centuries. On this a gracious God excused him 
 from the trouble of passing through a longer pil- 
 grimage, and of drooping under the burthen of 
 declining years. And surely so wise and good a 
 man would have been thankful for the favour, 
 though it had not been bestowed in so extraordi- 
 nary a way ; especially as this removal was not 
 only early, but sudden too. 
 
 Thissuddenness the words do beautifully express : 
 He was not, i. e. he disappeared at once ; as riches 
 sometimes do, wlien they take their wings, and fly 
 away, as an eagle towards heaven : on which ac- 
 count tlicy are called things that are not. The apostle 
 renders it. He was not found ; perhaps intimating, 
 that some diligent search was made after him, as 
 after Elijah, when in a very distant succeeding age 
 he was in an extraordinary manner received into 
 glory. 
 
 , Let us pause a little on this delightful thought. 
 What a sudden transition this good man had from 
 earth to heaven ! He was not; for God took him. 
 He probably rose in the morning in perfect health, 
 and went forth witii his usual composure and sweet- 
 ness of temper to the appointed duties of the day ; 
 
 and while he was perhaps conversing with his pious 
 friends, which was tlie case with Elijah, or while, 
 like Christ, he was praying with and for them, or 
 engaged in some other act of social worship, he was 
 suddenly called away. No tedious illness, no sad 
 farewell to those that were at home. This liap|)y 
 man u as in the way of his duty one moment, and in 
 the regions of immortality the next. He was not ; 
 for God took him; which further imi)lies, 
 
 2. TJiat he was taken to dwell with God. 
 
 He had walked with him in this house of his pil- 
 grimage, yet still his faith and hope had been wait- 
 ing for a more noble and more perfect state, and 
 that hope did not make him ashamed. Having 
 guided him by his counsels, God received him to 
 glory. And this was to him the crown of all his 
 honour and joy, that he was received to God. Divine 
 grace had long since taught him to say. Whom have 
 I in heaven but thee ? and there is none on earth that 
 I desire beside thee : and God treated him as a 
 friend that loved him, and was beloved by him. 
 As if he had not been satisfied with visiting him 
 below, he called him to dwell above. He showed 
 him the path of life, and conducted him to his pre- 
 sence, where there is fulness of joy ; and to his right 
 hand, where there are pleasures for evermore. 
 
 And that holy soul, which hath been trained up 
 for heaven by so long a course of devotion and 
 virtue, would find itself most happily attempered 
 and connaturalized to the world to which it was 
 received. He changed his place indeed, but his 
 employments and pleasures were in the main the 
 same. He still walked with God, but with a 
 steadier pace, more unwearied ardour, and more 
 exquisite delight. How gladly would he have 
 obeyed this divine call to that world, though death 
 in its most dreadful forms had stood to meet him in 
 his passage thither ! But through the peculiar 
 favour of God to him, we are informed, 
 
 3. That he was received to this happiness in a 
 miraculous, and, till that time, an unparalleled, 
 way. 
 
 For his sake God was pleased to create a new 
 thing on the earth, and permit a child of Adam to 
 enter the gates of his glory, without taking the road 
 appointed to the best of men in the course of nature, 
 in passing through the valley of the shadow of 
 death. 
 
 r cannot say that we could with any certainty 
 have inferred this from the words of Moses alone: 
 He was not; for God took him. That phrase might 
 have been interpreted of a sudden death ; as Rachel 
 is said to lament, because her children were not ; 
 and Job expressed his apprehension of immediate 
 death, by saying. Thou shalt seek me in the morn- 
 ing, and I shall not be. Now had Enoch passed 
 out of life thus, it might have been said that God 
 took him, as Asaph speaks of being received into 
 
FUNERAL SERMONS. 
 
 831 
 
 glory. And our Lord promises his apostles, wlio 
 were to go the way of all flesh, that he would come, 
 and receive them to himself. But St. Paul, who 
 was guided by an unerring spirit, which would suf- 
 ficiently secure him from being imposed upon by 
 any fanciful comment, or precarious tradition, has 
 fixed the matter beyond all reasonable doubt, by 
 saying. That through faith Enoch was translated, 
 that he should not see death, and was not found, 
 because God had translated him. 
 
 Tliis was a ease hitherto unequalled, nor hath 
 the like happened even to the present day, except- 
 ing only the rapture of Elijah, and the ascension of 
 Christ. 
 
 We are at large told in the book of Kings, that 
 the pious Elijah, who like Enoch had signalized 
 bis zeal for God in a very degenerate age, was fa- 
 voured with an extraordinary remove like his. He 
 was fetched up to heaven by a detachment of an- 
 gels, who brought along with them a splendid 
 vehicle, which is called a chariot of fire prepared 
 for that purpose, and which might possibly by 
 some unknown operation be the means of purifying 
 and relining the mortal part of his nature,* to such 
 a degree as was necessary in order to its inhabiting 
 that kingdom of God, which flesh and blood cannot 
 enter, and which corruption cannot inherit. 
 
 I speak also of the ascension of our blessed Re- 
 deemer, as a parallel instance, because, though he 
 died, yet he rose again from the dead, and con- 
 tinued a while upon earth, eating and drinking, 
 and travelling from place to place, as he had done 
 in the days of his flesh ; so that his flight to the 
 regions of glory was as miraculous, and might as 
 properly be called a translation, as if he had not 
 died at all. 
 
 And in this respect the saints which are found 
 alive at the general judgment, shall be conformed 
 to these great examples. For we are expressly 
 told by St. Paul, who mentions it as a mystery till 
 then kept secret, and now but imperfectly revealed, 
 that we shall not all die, but we shall all be 
 changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye. 
 And he illustrates it, when he tells the Tliessa- 
 lonians, that after the resurrection of those that 
 sleep in Jesus, they who are alive shall be caught 
 up w ith them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the 
 air, in order to our being for ever with him. Words 
 with which we may justly comfort ourselves, and 
 each other, for those consolations of God are not 
 small. 
 
 And it is exceeding probable this would have 
 been the stated manner of passing from earth to 
 heaven, had not sin made its fatal inroads upon us, 
 and death entered in its train. For nothing can be 
 
 * Corpus mortalc per anras 
 
 Dilapsum temips: ecu lata plurabca fundi 
 
 Missa solot niediii glaiis iiitalicstcre coplo. 
 
 I'lilrhra 9nl)it facies — Ocirf Met. Lib. xiv. v. 824, 8tr. 
 
 more certain than that, had not the increasing 
 numbers of mankind been one way or another 
 thinned and diminished, earth would several thou- 
 sand years ago have been too small to nourish, or 
 even to receive, its inhabitants. 
 
 It would be great presumption in me to pretend 
 to describe the change made in the body of Enoch, 
 by this translation, or to give an account of the 
 circumstances that attended it ; since the sacred 
 historian hath not thought fit to record them. I 
 will not pretend to say how much reason a learned 
 and ingenious writer of our ownf might have to 
 conjecture, that all the antediluvian patriarchs 
 whom Moses mentions, (except Adam, who was 
 now dead, and Noah, not yet born,) might be assem- 
 bled, perhaps with multitudes more, to sec this 
 great sight ; yet I cannot think it passed without 
 any witness at all. When Elijah was to be taken 
 up, it is very evident, that not only he himself 
 had some intimations of the time and manner, but 
 that it was divinely revealed to the prophets of 
 Bethel and Jericho, as well as that Elisha was per- 
 miUed to be an eye-witness of it. And when Christ 
 ascended, it was in the presence of all the apostles, 
 while he spake with them, and they beheld, and 
 looked stedfastly upon him. And there is the 
 greater reason to believe that something like this 
 might be the case with Enoch, because his transla- 
 tion might probably be intended to answer many 
 valuable and important purposes, which required 
 at least some competent number of witnesses, if not 
 a large and public assembly. 
 
 So far as this important fact W'as known, it would 
 be the most glorious testimony the world had ever 
 received of God's regard to singular and distin- 
 guished piety. His permitting righteous Abel to 
 fall by the hand of his cruel and wicked brother, 
 might have been a stone of stumbling, and a rock 
 of ofl'ence, and that career of prosperous tyranny 
 and violence, with which the giants of those ages 
 were then filling the earth, might have tempted 
 men to suspect that the Lord had forsaken it. This 
 no doubt imboldened ungodly sinners in their hard 
 and impious speeches, as well as their ungodly 
 deeds. But when Enoch, that holy prophet, who 
 had so long been the object of their profane 
 mockery and derision, was thus singled out from 
 the w hole race of men, as the friend of God, and 
 taken to dwell with him, it would evidently appear, 
 there was a reward for the righteous, and a (Jod 
 w ho judged in the earth. 
 
 It would also be a sensible demonstration of the 
 reality of an invisible world, and would, by a train 
 of easy consequences, confirm men's natural appre- 
 hensions of the immortality of the soul, and of the 
 existence of some nobler orders of beings in the 
 upper world, with whom wise and righteous men 
 
 + Dr. Hunt, of Uiv. Kcv. p. 43. 
 
83-2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 are at length to be incorporated, as members of the 
 same blessed society. 
 
 And as the body of Enoch was thus translated, it 
 would naturally appear an intimation, that God had 
 prepared a future happiness for the bodies of his 
 people, as well as their souls, and consecjuently 
 that the trophies of the f^rave should at lenslh be 
 recovered, and the sleeping dust of the saints rais- 
 ed and animated anew. And a future state of 
 punishment for tlie w icked, is so evident a counter- 
 part to this doctrine, that few could be so stupid as 
 not to infer it, from the fact here under consider- 
 ation. 
 
 Such important lessons as these might the world 
 liave learnt from tiie translation of any persons of 
 distinguished piety ; but there were some peculiar 
 purposes to be answered by that of Enoch, con- 
 sidered not only as a preacher of righteousness, but 
 as a prophet too, and as one who had foretold the 
 coming of the Lord with ten thousand of his saints, 
 to take vengeance on rebellious and impenitent 
 sinners ; and a day of vengeance to them, must 
 surely imply a day of reward and glory to those 
 men whom they had despised, reviled, and oppress- 
 ed. Now if Enoch in his life on earth wrought no 
 miracles, as we find not that he did, his ascension 
 would be a most convincing proof of his divine mis- 
 sion ; and indeed, as many of the miracles of Christ 
 also were, it w ould be a specimen, as well as a seal, 
 of the truth of the doctrine which he taught. 
 
 On all these accounts I think I may venture to 
 say, the translation of Enoch would be a more im- 
 portant favour to others, than it was even to him- 
 self, and consequently it is reasonable to believe, 
 that the same goodness which induced the Divine 
 Being to perpetuate the memory of this fact for the 
 instruction and encouragement of future ages, would 
 likewise induce him to make it so public and visible, 
 that there should be at least a few credible eye-wit- 
 nesses to attest it.* 
 
 And thus, my brethren, you have heard of the 
 piety of Enoch, and you have seen, as James ex- 
 presses it, the end of the Lord. I shall conclude, 
 
 Thirdly, with a few hints, by way of improve- 
 ment, which I shall leave you further to prosecute 
 in your own meditations. 
 
 You will naturally fix on such reflections as these : 
 
 1. How pleasant it is to think of this friendly 
 intercourse, wliich through a Redeemer is esta- 
 blished between heaven and earth ! 
 
 * I have taken noiiolire of that singuhr account wliicli theinjenious 
 Autlior of llie Essay on Divijie Dispensation, &tc. (lives of Dnoili s 
 Tratislation ; which lie sni>|iiisps was his hcinff lalien to dwell with tlie 
 Shckinali, in Uie terrestrial paradise. 1 have waved the motion of this, 
 because it dciirnds on a very precarious lonjprturc, that the Shekinah 
 had his staled ahode there ; and alvi hecanse were tliis to be allowed, 
 since this author doth not pretend to say, that Enocli was with the 
 Shekinah in the ark, (where he supposes that to have been during the 
 deluee.) he must grant that he ascended into heaven some time before 
 the Hood. So that I cannot see any end at all to be answered, by suppos. 
 in;; his translation was any tiling differeDt from that ascension. 
 
 It is strongly illustrated in this great instance, 
 Enoch walked with (Jod, and God took him. Is it 
 not at once a deligiitful and a surprising tiiought? 
 That the great Sovereign of universal nature, who 
 humbleth himself to behold the angels, when they 
 stand around him, vailing their faces, and covering 
 their feet in his presence, should form such a friend- 
 ship with liiinian, yea with sinful, creatures, that 
 they may be said to walk with him ; even they 
 whose guilt might cause them to llee from his pre- 
 sence, like our fallen parents, and from whose pol- 
 lutions he might justly turn away his holy eyes with 
 abhorrence. Yet we see all these obstacles over- 
 come ; and hear of it not as the privilege of Enoch 
 alone, but of all his true Israel, that he w ill dwell 
 in them, and walk with them ; that they shall be his 
 people, and that he will be their God. 
 
 And in consequence of this, we arc also raised to 
 the blessed hope of being at length taken to him, 
 though not in so immediate a manner, yet as surely, 
 and at length as completely, as Enoch was. A 
 mortal creature may say, Thou wilt guide me by thy 
 counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Yea, 
 the lowest real Christian has the security of his 
 word and covenant, that he shall at last have a yet 
 more solemn and more al)undant entrance adminis- 
 tered to him into the kingdom of his Father and 
 his God. 
 
 And whence are these privileges and these hopes, 
 my brethren ? Let us often ask our own hearts the 
 question, when we are enjoying God's presence, 
 and waiting for his salvation. And let us answer 
 it in those words of the apostle, " We that were once 
 afar oft", are brought near by the blood of Christ." 
 By Christ hath God reconciled us to himself ; by 
 Christ have we now access to him as our Father ; 
 and as Christ, who hath the keys of death and the 
 unseen world, is the person who is to call us from 
 hence into that which is within the vail ; so he is at 
 length to complete the purposes of divine love to 
 us, by coming again, and receiving us to himself, 
 that we, like triumphant Enoch, yea, and with him 
 too, in that day of his greatest triumph, may in our 
 entire persons ascend to the regions of immortal 
 holiness and perfect joy : Let us labour continually 
 to feel the greatness of our obligations to this 
 blessed Redeemer, and with daily dependence on 
 his atonement and righteousness, his intercession 
 and grace, let us, in every remaining step of this 
 pilgrimage, be walking humbly with our God. 
 
 2. How solicitous should we be that wc may have 
 our lot, both in time and eternity, with those who, 
 like Enoch, have walked with God ! 
 
 I have now been describing the character and 
 temper of a truly good man, a character common to 
 all the children of God, whatever their particular 
 denomination or profession may be. But must I 
 not reasonably fear, that some among you arc so 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 much strangers to it, that you find this an unintel- 
 ligible language ? Let me address myself to such 
 of you with a word of expostulation, and to all 
 with a serious exhortation. O that it might pene- 
 trate each of our hearts ! 
 
 Why are you strangers to walking with God ? Is 
 it an imaginary thing, even this which Scripture so 
 honourably records, which God himself so sin- 
 gularly owned, and through the riches of his grace 
 rewarded too ? O Sirs, there was surely as much 
 reality and solidity in it, as in the heavenly world, 
 in which it ended. 
 
 And let conscience answer ; Is it not an honour- 
 able, is it not a pleasant, way of passing tli rough 
 life ? Do you think that while Enoch was thus 
 employed, and entertained, he had indeed any rea- 
 son to envy the richest, the greatest, the most pros- 
 perous, or the most luxurious sinner ? Do you not 
 in your hearts believe that it must be a very com- 
 fortable thing to converse daily with God as a friend 
 and a father, to conduct ourselves before him in 
 such a manner as to be assured of his approbation, 
 and to be able to rejoice tliat he knows every most 
 secret thought of our soul? Do you not think 
 it must sweeten solitude, to think of him as always 
 near us, and increase the pleasures of society too, 
 when our converse with others is made subservient 
 to our communion with him ? And above all, do 
 you not really apprehend that reflections on a life 
 like this would greatly soften the approach of death, 
 and quite transform the very appearance of it ? 
 
 And I beseech you to consider, that this is not 
 a light thought. However you may neglect God 
 now, you must have one awful interview with him ; 
 and if you do not and will not walk with him, he 
 will, in another and very different sense of the word, 
 take you. He will arrest your fugitive .souls in the 
 midst of these thoughtless ungrateful wanderings, 
 and your spirits must return to God that gave them. 
 Now doth not your own reason, as well as the divine 
 Word, tell you, that there will be an unspeakable 
 dillerencc between the manner in which different 
 souls arc received by him on that rettirn ; a difTer- 
 
 ' ence between the reception of those who have lived 
 in a holy friendship with him, and those who, like 
 
 ' yourselves, have always been strangers to him ; 
 whose language it hath in effect been, " Let them 
 walk with God that will, but I for my part have 
 other company, and pleasures, and business, to at- 
 tend." Is there not an apparent fitness that the 
 former .should be taken into a state of everlasting 
 nearness to God, and the latter driven to a per- 
 petual distance fiom him, whom they have chosen 
 
 'to forget and forsake ? And with all your self-par- 
 tiality, Avould it not appear an indecency and 
 irregularity in the divine administration, to treat 
 such different persons upon a foot of equal friend- 
 ship ? 
 
 3 ti 
 
 SERMONS. 833 
 
 See to it, my friends, that you are not self-con- 
 demned. Sec to it that you do not pass a sentence 
 against your own souls, and judge yourselves un- 
 worthy of eternal life. Acquaint yourselves with 
 God now, and be at peace with him, lest he resent 
 the injury done to his oflfered friendship, and turn 
 away from you in the day of your final distress, with 
 a righteous disdain ; for it is an everlasting, most 
 obvious, but most important, truth, that they who 
 are far from God shall perisli. 
 
 Let me also address a solemn exhortation to those 
 that have experimentally known what such converse 
 with God means, and who by his good Spirit have 
 been led into a holy walk with him. Pursue it, I 
 beseech you, with greater resolution and care ; for 
 surely it is well wortli your pursuit. I appeal to 
 you, Christians, with pleasure on this head : Have 
 not those been your most comfortable days in which 
 you have most constantly attended to it ? Days 
 wliich have passed with the greatest delight, and 
 which have been reflected upon with the greatest 
 satisfaction ! Is not this and that place recom- 
 mended to you, by the dear remembrance, that you 
 have walked with God there ? this and tliat book 
 and friend endeared, as having been instrumental 
 in promoting that converse? Say then whether it be 
 not worth your while, with the most attentive re- 
 flection, to concert measures for improving and 
 cultivating this divine friendship? Whether, when 
 you have fixed upon them, it will not be your wis- 
 dom diligently to pursue them, though some con- 
 siderable difficulties may be in your way? Let not 
 any cstrangedness grow between God and your 
 souls, but review the various branches of Enoch's 
 character as your own model, if you would live with 
 joy, and die Avitli courage. Let your conduct be 
 such, especially in secret, and then wc may reason- 
 ably conclude, that your domestic and public be- 
 haviour will not be much unlike it. And then you 
 may enter into the spirit of our next reilcction, 
 which is all I shall add. 
 
 3. With how much pleasure should we look up 
 after those holy souls, who, having walkeil with God 
 Tipon earth, are now taken by him to a heavenly 
 abode ! 
 
 Can any of us apprehend, that if the nearest 
 relatives of Enoch were witnesses of his translation, 
 they beheld it with weeping eyes, or sent out a gale 
 of sighs or peal of groans after him ; how tenderly 
 soever they loved him, and how much soever of the 
 support or delight of their lives might seem to depend 
 on his continuance with them ? Or if their fondness 
 thus prevailed over their reason and their faith, can 
 we imagine that their ascending triumphant friend 
 would have approved of such a conduct ? Would 
 he not rather have beheld it with a mixture of com- 
 passion and displeasure ; if displeasure could have 
 been felt in so liappy a circumstance? But we will 
 
\ 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 8;J4 
 
 lallicr liope, lliat (lu\v Iiailcd Ins flight to tlie para- 
 dise of Gotl, aiui bore it away witli tlicin, as a loiin- 
 and a powerful cordial, under all the sorrows and 
 distresses of life, that Enoeh was so comfortably 
 and so honourably delivered from them, and secured 
 by adamantine walls from every invasion of sorrow 
 and of sin ; yea, from the sipriit of those crimes and 
 miseries w liieh had formerly tormented his righteous 
 and tender spirit. 
 
 And why should not we in like manner congratu- 
 late our dear deceased friends, who arc not any 
 longer here with us, because God hath taken them .' 
 You will perhaps have a ready answer, and imme- 
 diately say, Enoch was translated, but the friends 
 v.e lament are dead, and o>ir tears flow from that 
 consideration. But let me further ask, Is there not 
 a passage to the presence of God through llic 
 valley of the shadow of death ? And do we not 
 firmly believe tliey have found that passage! In 
 some cases, especially in a case like this now be- 
 fore us, we should think it a kind of impiety to 
 doubt it. And if so, methinks there is not so much 
 difference between the temper with which we 
 should regard the deceased and translated saints, 
 as we may be ready at first to imagine. 
 
 It is true, the persons of whom we now speak 
 have dropped their bodies in the grave ; but that is 
 no pain to them, nor any such important loss, as 
 that for their sakes we should greatly regret it. 
 
 If we saw them after the labour of a fatiguing 
 day, or after a long fit of painful and languishing 
 illness, fallen into a gentle slumber, and knew that 
 their minds were, during that interval, entertained 
 witli the visions of God, like those which the pro- 
 phets saw, and raised to sublime and elevated 
 tlevotion, beyond what they had ever before felt, 
 .should we mourn over them because their senses 
 were locked up, and they did not, for that time, see 
 the light of the sun, nor hear such poor conversa- 
 tion as ours ? Should we not rather rejoice, and be 
 tenderly solicitous to guard their sleeping moments, 
 and watch that nothing might break in upon them, 
 and call them down to earth and vanity too soon ? 
 And are not their slumbers now as sweet ? and are 
 not their visions as bright and glorious ? What 
 though they do not breathe ? what though their 
 blood does not circulate, and the curtains of the 
 grave be drawn around them ? Is there so much 
 in these circumstances, to give us anxiety and dis- 
 tress ? 
 
 O but, you will say, we should have a secret 
 hope that our sleeping friends would awake again, 
 and renewing the interrupted converse, relate to us 
 what had passed in that interval ; and we could 
 with pleasure wait weeks and months in expect- 
 ation of that. Nay, but shall we not ourselves ere 
 long awake, if we are Christians indeed? If we 
 are walking with God, shall we not ere long be 
 
 taken by him, not to the amu.semcnls of a pleasing 
 dream, but to those solid, substantial, everlasting 
 pleasures, which his saints above are drinking in 
 with unutterable delight. 
 
 Lord, we are hoping for thy salvation, may we in 
 the mean time be doing thy commandments! While 
 we walk with thee, we will not complain of the 
 length or the roughness of the way ; nor will we be 
 inconsolable for the loss of the most i)leasant com- 
 panion, or n>ost able guide. For thy name's sake 
 do thou lead us and guide us, and we w ill wait thy 
 call to enter into thy rest. 
 
 Such were the sentiments, and such the temper, of 
 that truly reverend and excellent person, whose 
 death was the occasion, the very mournful oc- 
 casion, of my appearing this day amongst you ; 
 on whose character it would be easy for me to 
 dilate much more largely than my time will now 
 admit, or than I judge it proper to do in a fune- 
 ral Discourse, where flattery is so often intro- 
 duced, that the simplicity of most obvious truth is 
 ready to be suspected. I shall only say, in a few 
 words, that what I said of Enoch in tlie first head 
 of my Discourse, (excepting only what was peculiar 
 to his circumstances as a patriarch and a prophet,) 
 is what, by long observation, I had seen in Mr. 
 Norris. And I appeal to those of his family, and 
 to you his people, whether there was not in almost 
 every sentence a visible resemblance, and whether 
 it might not very properly be repeated here with a 
 mere alteration of the name. So evident was it 
 that he walked closely with God ; and firmly be- 
 lieving the great doctrine both of natural and re- 
 vealed religion, made it his constant care to behave 
 as in the divine presence, and lived under the 
 sensible tokens of divine acceptance and favour ; 
 which diffused over his heart, and even over his 
 countenance, an habitual joy, which is no where to 
 be found on earth, but in Christians of such dis- 
 tinguished attainments in piety. 
 
 But though I must not allow myself to dwell on 
 this pleasing subject, I hope I may be permitted 
 publicly to acknowledge the sense I have of the 
 favour of Divine Providence to me, in leading me 
 so early into the acquaintance of this excellent 
 person, and blessing me with so great a share of 
 his friendship : with which I was honoured from 
 my first entrance into the ministry, and which his 
 singular humanity and condescension, wisdom and 
 piety, have rendered exceeding delightful and im- 
 proving to me in all tlie succeeding years of life. 
 
 And surely I should be greatly deficient in the 
 duty of this day, if I did not solemnly charge it 
 upon you frequently to recollect your obligations to 
 the divine goodness, in giving you so able and so 
 tender a shepherd, and in continuing him amongst 
 you for so long a time w ith such cordial love, that 
 repeated, unanimous, and earnest solicitations from 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 llie most considerable congregations in the neigh- 
 touring counties,- could not prevail upon him to 
 remove from you. So evident was it that he took 
 the oversight of you, not by constraint, but willingly, 
 not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind. 
 
 It may eminently be said of you, my friends, in a 
 spiritual sense, that you have been fed with the 
 finest of the wheat, as the pure and uncorrupted 
 truths of the gospel have been preached amongst 
 you, with plainness and seriousness, and in the 
 spirit of love. Your minds have not been amused 
 with useless subtilties and barren speculations: you 
 have not been vexed with strifes of words unpro- 
 fitable and vain, nor grieved with passionate invec- 
 tives against your brethren of any denomination : 
 invectives which are never more criminal than when 
 delivered in the name of the Lord, and which too 
 often turn the food of souls into poison, and that 
 which should have been for their welfare into a 
 trap. This good man brought out of the good 
 treasure of his heart good things. His generous 
 and benevolent soul overflowed with sentiments of 
 candour and love, and he was never more in his own 
 element, than when he was telling you that the 
 kingdom of God is not meat or drink, but righte- 
 ousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. And 
 I firmly believe, that in the eight and thirty years of 
 his ministry among you, he never delivered a sermon, 
 or a sentence, inconsistent with that great principle. 
 
 I join with you in lamenting that none of those 
 elaborate and judicious discourses which he de- 
 livered among you, from sabbath to sabbath, are, or 
 can be, published to the world. For though it is 
 certain, that his graceful and venerable aspect, and 
 his easy yet lively manner, gave a peculiar beauty 
 to them, as delivered by himself; yet, when I con- 
 sider how judiciously bis thoughts were selected, 
 how methodically they were disposed, and with 
 what propriety, elegance, and spirit, they were 
 expressed, I am well assured, they would generally 
 have been esteemed a rich addition to that great 
 number of practical writings, with whicli our age 
 and country is already blessed, and with which I 
 I hope it will still abound. 
 
 I But I trust, my friends, it is not in vain you have 
 heard those discourses which you cannot review. 
 I know they fell as soft as showers of snow on the 
 ears of his hearers; and I hope they also penetrated 
 your hearts, and left permanent and fructifying 
 effects there, which will not pass away like snow 
 before the sun. Let your profiting then appear 
 I onto all men. And so much the rather, as you 
 I have had the advantage of seeing his precepts 
 ' illustrated by the most prudent, inoffensive, and 
 amiable behaviour. You have seen him providing 
 things honest and honourable in the sight of all 
 men. You know how gentle, how benevolent, how 
 
 * Partiriilarly Birmingham and Nottingham. 
 3 II 2 
 
 SERMONS. 835 
 
 cheerful, and how useful his conversation was. 
 How open his hand and his heart were to every 
 office of friendship, to every work of charity. Go 
 ye, therefore, and do likewise. 
 
 As for what he was in the domestic relation of 
 life, I had almost said I wish it may not be too 
 long, but I will rather say, too tenderly, remember- 
 ed. The loss of a husband so constantly obliging, 
 so affection* tely sympathizing, so well furnished as 
 a prudent guide, and a pleasant companion, and so 
 well disposed for the ollices of both, will, I fear, be 
 too deeply felt. May the sense of it be tempered 
 with those divine consolations, which he was so 
 eminently fit to administer, but which have not 
 surely lost their value, and will not, I hope, lose 
 their relish, though no longer administered by him ! 
 May the children, which were dear to him as his 
 own, never forget with how much diligence he 
 instructed them, with how much importunity and 
 constancy he prayed for them, and with what ten- 
 derness he watched over all their interests ! May 
 they ever behave answerably to those advantages, 
 that the numberless petitions which have been put 
 up for them, may descend in the richest blessings 
 on their head ! 
 
 I know, my friends, that the loss must sit heavy 
 on all your hearts, and as to those with whom I 
 have personally conversed, since this breach was 
 made, I have heard your lamentations, and seen 
 your tears. But remember, I beseech you, how much 
 you owe to the divine goodness in giving you such a 
 minister and such a friend, in continuing him 
 amcMg you, with such vigour of health and cheer- 
 fulness of spirits, for so many years, a burning and 
 shining light ; I may add, even in the decline of 
 life, growing brighter and brighter. And though 
 his removal, while his capacities of usefulness were 
 to the last so great,! must be very affecting to you, 
 yet I cannot forbear saying, that you have some 
 peculiar reason to he thankful for the manner and 
 circumstances of his death. 
 
 Nature was not racked with tormenting pain, 
 nor worn out by a tedious consuming illness ; but 
 the good man grew a little drowsy towards the 
 evening of his long day, and having served his 
 generation according to the will of God, gently fell 
 asleep, as he was going from one apartment of his 
 house to another ; and all the business and struggle 
 of dying was over, in less time than could have 
 served him to get up the stairs, as he was attempt- 
 ing to do. It is a delightful thought, that God dis- 
 missed his servant in so peaceful a manner, that his 
 death so much resembled a translation, and /le was 
 not ; for God took him. 
 
 I doubt not, but everyone of us is ready to say, " So 
 
 + It is observable, that Mr. Norris preached the last sabhath he lived, 
 and coiirliidf'd the i)Ublic service with a i-opious, lively, and aftectionatc 
 prayer for his people, which could not have been more suitable if he 
 had known he was then takins' his last farewell. 
 
836 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 may I live, and so may I tlie !" But wliile we live 
 liere, if we l^a^ e any rcijard to our own eomt'oit, or 
 the public good, it must grieve us to see our 
 brcarlirs tlius nuilti()lied upon us, to see the lights 
 of the sanctuary extinguished, and liis people here, 
 and in so many neighbouring flocks, even at the 
 very same time, left as sheep having no shepherd. 
 Yet I uuLst hope the great Shepherd of Israel will 
 continue to feed you, and as the residue of the 
 
 Spirit is with him, will raise up a suitable supply. 
 To him I most cordially recommend you, and all my 
 other friends, who are mourning your losses and 
 their own. And under all that burthen of care and 
 sorrow, in which my share is so peculiarly apparent, 
 would exhort you to say, and join with you in say- 
 ing, The Lord liveth, and blessed be our Rock, and 
 let the God of our salvation be exalted ! 
 
 SERMON VIII 
 
 CHRIST'S. MYSTERIOUS CONDUCT TO BE UNFOLDED HEREAFTER.* 
 
 John xiii. 7. 
 
 — What I do thou hnowest not now ; but thou shall 
 know hereafter. 
 
 Oi'R Lord Jesus Christ has in all ages taken care 
 to exercise the faith, the patience, and submission 
 of his people : and he has done it, while carrying 
 on the kindest designs towards tliem, and wliile he 
 has been acting in the strictest prosecution of those 
 designs. He was now engaged in a work of as- 
 tonishing condescension and goodness : the dis- 
 ciples saw it with amazement, that He, the Son of 
 God, and the heir of all thitigs, the promised Mes- 
 siah, the King of God's church, should condescend 
 to wash tlieir feet. Peter could not bear the 
 thoughts of permitting it: and that occasioned the 
 words I have now been reading; in wliich we have 
 a general truth delivered by our Lord, which it is 
 proOtable for us frequently to reflect upon, and the 
 reflection is now peculiarly seasonable. 
 
 The words presented themselves to my mind, as 
 soon as I heard, to my unspeakable surprise, the 
 melancholy tidings of the death of my dear pupil, 
 and friend, and brother, who but the very last 
 sacrament day was with us at the table of the Lord, 
 and who but a few days before had been speaking 
 to us in liis name. When I heard, that God had 
 by a sudden stroke, which left his friends in a mix- 
 ture of astonishment and distress, taken away one 
 so richly adorned with gifts and graces, so well 
 qualified for public usefulness, just as he was enter- 
 ing upon it, just as he was unanimously chosen to 
 preside over a numerous and important congrega- 
 tion^ and was within a few weeks more to have gone 
 
 • Prcacjicd at NorUiampton, May 15, on llie dcilh of llic Rev. 
 iMr. James Slieplierd, wlio died May IS, 1746, JEM. 22. 
 
 from us to have taken up his stated residence among 
 them ; struck with the surprise, I say, and with the 
 anguisli, of this unexpected blow, whicli yet it wa» 
 natural to consider as coming from the hand of the 
 Lord .Icsus Christ, who is the great Sovereign of his 
 cliurch, and holds the keys of the unseen world and 
 of death, these vi'ords immediately presented them- 
 selves to me : and therefore I determined to ofTer 
 you some plain and serious meditations upon them; 
 and shall accordingly raise three observations from 
 tlicm, which T shall endeavour to illustrate and 
 improve. 
 
 I. That there may be some things in the conduct 
 of the blessed Redeemer towards liis people, which 
 they may not at present be able fully to understand. 
 
 II. That nevertheless the time will come, when 
 they shall have much clearer views of the reasons 
 of his dispensations. 
 
 III. That in the expectation of this, it is highly 
 fit they should acquiesce in what he docs, how un- 
 known soever the reasons may at present be. These 
 several observations I shall briefly speak to, and 
 then, 
 
 IV. Aj)ply all this to the present occasion. 
 
 I. There may be some things in the conduct of 
 our blessed Redeemer towards his people, now, 
 which they may not at present be able fully to 
 understand. It is a supposable case, — and when 
 we come to consider the thing, it is also evidently 
 fact. 
 
 1. It is in the nature of things a very supposable 
 case, as will appear, when we consider, — who the 
 Lord .Icsus Christ is, — who and what we are, — and 
 the relation in which he stands to us as our Lord 
 and Sovereign. 
 
 Consider who he is : no less a person than the 
 only-begotten Son of God, in whom arc hid all the 
 
FUNERAL SERMONS. 
 
 837 
 
 treasures of divine wisdom and knowledge : and 
 can it be tliought wonderful, that the counsels of 
 God are unsearchable.' We know that his nature 
 is so ; for who can by searching find out God ? who 
 can find out the Almighty to perfection ? And well 
 may we conclude, his schemes must be so ; and 
 therefore say with the apostle Paul ; Oil the depth 
 of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of 
 God ! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his 
 ways past finding out ! The God of Israel, and the 
 Saviour, is oftentimes a God that hideth himself. 
 His way is in the sea, and his path in the deep 
 waters. — The angels themselves cannot trace all his 
 footsteps, and how much less can we poor frail 
 mortals, so often perplexed in our own counsels, so 
 often brought as it were to our wit's end, with 
 difficulties and entanglements that arise from the 
 management of our own little affairs, in this narrow 
 and contracted circle ! Can w e expect then to fathom 
 his depths ? to comprehend his schemes ? to form 
 a perfect judgment of his royal, his imperial, plan? 
 — How little a portion is it that is known of him, 
 who is the King of all the world, and head over all 
 things to the church ! God has subjected to him 
 all things visible and invisible : nor are we capable 
 of discerning how one wheel touches another in 
 this complex scheme ; how the concerns of one 
 province of his kingdom may be interwoven (as it 
 were) with those of another ; or what curious 
 wheels may be within other wheels, and give them 
 a motion which we know not of, and which it would 
 be very unfit we should know. It is a labyrinth 
 intricate in proportion to the art and design with 
 which it is wrought up. We may in reason then 
 expect it should be thus. And again, 
 
 2. It is also what we see in fact to be so. We 
 know not in numberless instances what our Lord 
 intends : we know not what the event will be. And 
 we do in fact see, that though all things are under 
 the government of Christ, yet many things happen, 
 which we should have imagined his kindness and 
 tenderness to his people would have prevented, as 
 we are sure that his power could do it. 
 
 We often see his dearest children afllictcd ; we 
 see the most holy, humble, watchful, spiritual souLs 
 often drooping and dejected ; when yet we know, 
 that he could in a moment pour in the oil of glad- 
 ness to heal their wounds, and cause their faces to 
 shine, and their hearts to overflow with a divine joy. 
 
 We see generous and public-spirited Christians, 
 who could delight with a liberal hand to relieve his 
 poor members, themselves poor, themselves perhaps 
 after many a worthy service reduced to need that 
 assistance from others, which they have once so 
 readily imparted ; though we know, that all riches 
 are in the hand of Christ, that all events and all 
 hearts arc under his influence. 
 
 We see most useful and excellent persons re- 
 
 moved and taken ott", many of them in the prime of 
 life, some in the midst of their usefulness, and some 
 in the very beginnings of it; and these, not only 
 persons amiable and exemplary in private life, but 
 of public character, adorned by the hand of Christ 
 himself with much of his own image, and with that 
 rich furniture, which qualifies them for being (as 
 we should imagine) most proper instruments to 
 bring in souls to himself, and greatly to build up 
 his languishing clturch and interest. We see some 
 of them perhaps cut ofl" before they have made any 
 public appearance at all ; and others, when they 
 have just began to speak in the name of the Lord : 
 and with regard to (Tthers, he weakens their strength 
 in the midst of the way ; diseases arrest them, and 
 make them prisoners ; and threaten perhaps in a 
 little while longer to bring them down to the dust 
 with their departed brethren : yet we know, Jesus 
 is the universal Lord, to whom belong the issues 
 from death ; that he knows all the secret springs of 
 life, and all the secret sources of disease, and could 
 easily by one powerful word remove the causes of 
 the complaint, or direct to means most efficacious 
 for recovery. 
 
 We see churches made desolate by the enemy, 
 whom we know he could restrain ; we see them 
 polluted with scandals, which we know he could 
 prevent ; we see their numbers diminished, though 
 we know that he could easily send out his Spirit, 
 and renew the face of them, and cause many to 
 enter for one that he removes : yea, we see among 
 those whom we must hope to be his little flock, 
 many divisions, many errors, many imprudences 
 and follies, that alienate the hearts of Christians 
 one from another, and bring religion into disgrace, 
 though Christ could easily let in beams of light 
 which should guide into truth, beams of love which 
 should sweetly unite and cement multitudes, so 
 that they should sensibly be one in him. — So mys- 
 terious is his conduct, and so diflerent the face of 
 his poor church, as well as the state of many of its 
 members, from what we should expect it to have 
 been under the government of such a head. What 
 he does, we know not now. But then it was ob- 
 served, 
 
 II. That nevertheless the time will come, when 
 wc shall ha\e much dearer views of the reasons of 
 his dispensations, — Thou shalt know hereafter. And 
 to illustrate this I would observe, — that sometimes 
 these reasons open, even while we continue in this 
 world ; — but we may expect to know it in many- 
 other instances, when the present scenes are closed, 
 and we enter on that which is within the veil. 
 
 1. Sometimes the reasons of Christ's mysterious 
 dispensations open upon us, even while we are 
 here in this world. 
 
 So in this instance that the text refers to, it was 
 but a few minutes, and our Lord laid aside the towel 
 
838 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 with which he was iriidcd, and sat down and lold 
 tjicin. wliv 1k' had washed their feet : that it was to 
 teaeli them to «ash one anothci-'s feet; tliat is, to 
 promote tiieir luiniility, and their readiness to serve 
 one anotlier in h)vc, even in tiie most coiidcseend- 
 inpt olliees they mi^ht have an opportunity of per- 
 forming. And thus in many other instances, though 
 the great end of Christ's dispensations be in regard 
 to the eternal world, yet there are subordinate ends 
 which may be answ ered here ; and w hen we come 
 to find tlicy are answered, we may learn the design 
 of Providence in these means w liieh w e did not be- 
 fore understand. As when the disciples saw the 
 honourable manner in which Christ dismissed the 
 poor Canaanitish woman at last, they saw the 
 reasons why he seemed to neglect her so long ; it 
 was, that her faith might be displayed by the trial, 
 that they might see she was a more excellent woman 
 than they could otiierwise have imagined ; and that 
 the mercy might be sweeter to her in proportion to 
 the delay. 
 
 And do I not now speak to the experience of some 
 that hear me ? — Cannot many of you reflect with me 
 upon strange dispensations of Providence, which 
 have at length produced the happiest eirects? Tt is 
 a known .story of a person, who having lost all his 
 wealth, was led to apply himself to philosophj', and 
 in consequence of that, attained such a government 
 of himself, such wisdom, and such reputation, as 
 made him abundantly happier than he ever had 
 been ; so as to make him say, " I had been undone, 
 if I had not been undone." And thus perhaps one 
 and another of us may say, " The Lord took away 
 my parents when I was young, and I thought I had 
 lost my only friends : but he raised up those for me, 
 who did more and better for me than my parents 
 could have done, and showed his special love and 
 care in taking me up when my fatlier and mother 
 forsook me." 
 
 Another may say, "In younger life he exercised 
 me with many disappointments, he stripped me of 
 many of my comforts, and withered many of my 
 hopes ; but I found it good to bear the yoke in my 
 youth : and by unthought-of turns, it may be, in re- 
 lative life he has done much better for me, than 
 with my fond passions I should have done for my- 
 self." 
 
 " He has been pleased," may a third say, " to 
 take away my dear children, perhaps several of 
 them successively, and those of them that were 
 peculiarly tlie delight of my eyes ; but he has drawn 
 my heart more powerfully to himself by it, and he 
 is better to me tl-ian ten children." 
 
 " He has blasted the work of my hands," may 
 another say, " I have insensibly lost, perhaps what 
 I painfully got ; or I have been stripped of some 
 considerable part of my possessions at once : but 
 my poverty has euricbed me ; I have learned the 
 
 vanity of the world more, and have been more fully 
 convinced tliat it cannot be my happiness." 
 
 " My con.stitution has been much impaired," may 
 another say, " I have passed solitary sablialhs, I 
 have known a great deal of pain and languishing: 
 but it has taugiit me to submit to my Father's will ; 
 it has directed my eyes to that world, where the in- 
 habitants shall not say, I am sick, and where I shall 
 be fixed as a pillar in the temple of my God." 
 
 " I would not have been w iliiout alUictions," may 
 they all say ; " nor w ithout this and that particular 
 affliction," may each perhaps reply, " upon any 
 terms. I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are 
 right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afHicted 
 me : thou bast humbled me, thou hast taught me to 
 know what was in my heart ; and I know by my 
 afflictions, more than pros])erity might have taught 
 me, of the love that is in thine heart to me." But 
 then, 
 
 2. We may expect to know the reasons of Christ's 
 dispensations in many other instances, when we 
 shall come into the future world. " In thy light 
 shall we see light :" and I doubt not, but in the hea- 
 venly state many circumstances will concur to give 
 us a much better acquaintance with the methods of 
 the divine dealings, than it is possible for us to at- 
 tain upon earth : — our eye will be strengthened ; — 
 our prospect will be extended ; — our company will 
 be improved ;• — and our Lord may perhaps give us 
 plainer lessons by immediate discovery from him- 
 self. 
 
 In heaven, the eye of the soul will be strength- 
 ened, and our faculties raised to unutterable de- 
 grees. All indolence will be done away, and we 
 sliall be awakened into everlasting attention. All 
 prejudices will be quite removed ; and we shall be 
 willing to admit truth in all its lustre, and to follow 
 it wherever it may lead us. 
 
 Our prospect there will be enlarged, and we shall 
 have much more extensive views of things : for we 
 .shall see the conduct of Christ, in its influence 
 upon scenes that lie at present quite out of our 
 sight. We see Christ's administrations now, as 
 they regard this earth alone ; but then we shall see 
 them as they regard heaven. We may then perhaps 
 .see, that there was a certain post of service to be 
 filled above, which required just such a one as 
 divine grace had made this or that young per.son, 
 who might indeed have been very fit to have served 
 the church l)elow, but for whom God meant much 
 higher and better tilings. 
 
 Our companions in glory may also very probably 
 assist us by their wise and good observations, when 
 we come to make the providence of God here upon 
 earth, under the guidance and direction of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, the subject of our mutual converse. 
 
 And it is impossible for us to say, how immedi- 
 ately the Lord Jesus Christ may himself interpose 
 
FUNERAL SERMONS. 
 
 839 
 
 in giving ns plainer lessons, and clearing up his 
 conduct to us. By direct and immediate revela- 
 tion he may communicate to us what his schemes 
 were, and show us how they were going on in a di- 
 rect harmonious manner, as the planets in the 
 visible heavens, when they seem to us to stand 
 still, or to go backwards. In the mean time, let me 
 observe, 
 
 III. That it is highly fit we should acquiesce in 
 what Christ does, how unknown soever the reasons 
 of it may be to us. And that, upon these two plain 
 and certain principles, — that we know, that in all 
 he does his ends are graciously directed,— and that 
 his means are wisely chosen. 
 
 1. We know that his ends are graciously directed. 
 We know that he intends, in all he does, the 
 
 honour of God, and the good of all his people. Can 
 we make any doubt of this ! One would think, we 
 really did : and yet we know, that he has given 
 them the most gracious promises, even of a glorious 
 resurrection, and of a blessed immortality ; and 
 that he has loved them so well, that he has died for 
 them, has shed his own precious and invaluable 
 blood for their redemption and salvation. And can 
 we after this allow ourselves to suspect him ? Can 
 we doubt that he intends to make his people for 
 ever happy .' And intending this, can he fail to 
 eflect it in the properest manner ? — Surely I may 
 add, 
 
 2. We know that his means arc wisely chosen. 
 Can we have any room to question this ? Is he not 
 
 the incarnate Wisdom of God ? And can you enter- 
 tain any suspicion of him ? If you trust not faith 
 alone, trust sense. Look up to the heavens ; look 
 down to the earth: beh(dd, how wisely all is or- 
 dered, in the growth of such a variety of plants, in 
 the provision that is made for such a multitude of 
 animals of various kinds, in tlie subserviency of all 
 to the subsistence and delight of human life ; and 
 then say, Does this look like any deficiency in wis- 
 dom ? And are not these things the work of Christ? 
 Did he not lay the plan, and execute it? Were not 
 all things created by him, whether visible or invi- 
 sible ? And will you still doubt whether he who 
 made, and who governs and preserves, all things, is 
 wise enough to conduct your aflairs, or not ? Mc- 
 thinks our Lord may justly expostulate with the 
 suspicious, with the complaining. Christian, " O 
 thou of little faith, wherefore dost thou doubt? 
 Whom wilt thou trust, if thou trustest not me? 
 Wilt thou trust thine own wisdom ? alas ! how 
 often has it deceived thee ! Wilt thou trust thy self- 
 love ? alas ! how utterly has it undone thee ! Can 
 my Father trust me with all the infinite concerns of 
 his glory and kingdom ; and canst thou not trust me 
 with thy little all ? Did I die for tliee ! did I pour 
 out my blood for tlie redemption of thy inmioital 
 soul ! and canst thou imagine I w ill not take care 
 
 of it? And if I do, will it not be safe? Or if thou 
 canst confide in me, that I will take care of thy 
 soul, and make it both safe and happy, canst thou 
 not trust thine estate with me, thy healtli, thy repu- 
 tation, thy usefulness, thy children, thy friends ? 
 Are these things more than that soul, which I have 
 so dearly purchased, which I have so tenderly re- 
 ceived, whicli I have so constantly watched over, 
 and in which I have already made such a change 
 for the better, that if thou wouldst be just to thyself 
 and me, thou needest but to look upon it, and 
 mightest find an argument from what it is, in com- 
 parison of what it once was, to trust me for every 
 thing else ?" 
 
 " Lord," should each of us by this time say, " it 
 is enough ! It is more than enough ! I am ashamed 
 of my weakness and folly. Behold, here I am, do 
 with me as thou w ilt ! Dispose of me and my con- 
 cerns just according to thine own pleasure ! I will 
 not object one word, I will not indulge one thought 
 of suspicion : I will say. It is the Lord, let him do 
 what seemeth him good. I will keep mine eye 
 upon thy hand ; I will sometimes look back to thy 
 cross, and sometimes look up to thy throne ; and I 
 will not only be contented, but thankful. Yea, 
 Lord, I will sec what I can do towards obeying in 
 llie midst of all my troubles that great command of 
 thine, which, great as it is, was a connnand fit for 
 such a Redeemer to give. Rejoice evermore : re- 
 joice in the Lord always ; and again, I say, 
 rejoice." — And now, after what has been said, I 
 would conclude, 
 
 IV. With applying all this to the present occa- 
 sion, by hinting at some ends, which we may sup- 
 pose our Lord to have had in view in this solemn 
 transaction of his providence, which occasioned the 
 discourse I have now been d''livering. 
 
 Let us lay down this as the foundation, that it is 
 the hand of Christ ; that he has turned the key ; 
 that he has taken away his young servant, whom he 
 raised up here, whom he called so early by his 
 grace, whom he taught to pray when he was but a 
 child; and to pray in such a manner, that I will 
 take the liberty publicly to tell you, " that the 
 account I had of a prayer of his, overheard, when 
 he little thought it, by a dear friend, almost seven- 
 teen years ago, that is, when he was but about five 
 years old, had its influence in engaging me to come 
 and settle in this place." It was from Christ that 
 he received that steadiness, that tenderness, that 
 ripe experience in the things of God, which made 
 his private and his public labours so remarkably 
 agreeable to the most judicious Christians of this 
 society, and of other societies. It was the grace of 
 Christ which bore him unliurt throngii so many 
 temptations, by which others have been insnared 
 and dishonoured, their characters sunk, and their 
 usefulness diminished, if not destroyed. And let 
 
8U) 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 us not imajjiiie, (liat the messenj^er of death canic 
 to him without a ronuuissioii tVoiu the jiicat Lord of 
 life. Let iis not imagine, that liis spirit was called 
 out of time into eternity witiiout the voice of a 
 Redeemer, or that the important doors of the invi- 
 sible world were opened without his liand. Clirist 
 has taken him away ; and ho had no doubt his 
 reasons for it ; reasons, many of them perhaps un- 
 searcliablc to us, yet we may conjecture as to some 
 of them : and it may be prolitable for a few re- 
 maining- minutes to dwell upon the view ; the 
 rather, as so many breaches have been made, so 
 many of this kind too, which have fallen under the 
 notice of many of us. Particularly, 
 
 1. Our Lord by such a providence might intend 
 to teach us, how little he needs any of our services. 
 
 Our dear departed friend seemed indeed a vessel 
 of honour fitted for his Master's use ; but he is 
 broken in pieces, and we are ready to say with the 
 afflicted church of old. The precious sons of Zion, 
 comparable to fine gold, how are they esteemed as 
 earthen pitcliers, the work of tlie hands of the pot- 
 ter ! But herein our great Lord displays his royalty: 
 he can form the most promising instruments of 
 service ; and can lay them aside, and carry on his 
 cause without them. Let us not then any of us 
 imagine ourselves, or each other, to be r.-ecessary to 
 him. He will, if he pleases, do us the honour to 
 use us ; if not, he w ill immediately lay us by in the 
 grave. We, and those who esteem us most, and 
 who love us best, should submit, and say. Behold, 
 as the clay is in the hand of the potter, so are we in 
 the hand of the Lord our God. And it is tit it 
 should be so : for we are w eak as clay, and at the 
 same time also are of as little value, and even less 
 than the dust of the earth, w hen compared with him. 
 Again, 
 
 3. It may be the design of our Lord by such a 
 providence as this, to teach us to cease from man. 
 
 AVc are instructed by it, not to depend too much 
 upon any of our surviving brethren and friends : 
 for it is the language of this providence. Cease ye 
 from man, whose breath is in his nostrils ; fo 
 wherein is he to be accounted of? God changes our 
 countenance, and sends us away. But a few montlis 
 ago, who was more likely to have continued tlian 
 dear Mr. Shepherd ! But God sent a mortal distem- 
 per upon him in the night, and his friends in the 
 morning found him senseless ; and he spoke no 
 more, and hardly moved any more, till he died. 
 Such is every man in his best estate ! Thus may we 
 fall, and those on whom we most depend. Lord, 
 what do we then wait for ? with regard to ourselves, 
 with regard to thy church, our hope is in thee. 
 Further, 
 
 3. Our Lord might thus intend in a peculiar man- 
 ner to exercise our submission and resignation to 
 his wise and gracious w ill. 
 
 We should look upon the death of every friend 
 in tliis view, as a call to us to ackimwlcdge his 
 sovereignty over life and death. Behold, he taketli 
 away, and who can hinder him ? or who shall say 
 unto him. What doest thou ? And the more touching 
 the case is, the deeper ought our submission to be ; 
 because the greater is that natural tendency which 
 we are ready to feel in our minds, to rise against 
 and to dispute his determinations. Particularly, 
 when God takes away from aged Christians a young 
 friend who has been the delight of tlieir eyes, whom 
 they have tenderly nursed up from his infancy, just 
 when they most needed his assistance, and he was 
 most capable of giving it, as well as strongly in- 
 clined and determined to do it : when God takes 
 away, not only a youHg minister of eminent and 
 distinguished abilities, but one who even from his 
 childhood had been bred up amongst us ; one who 
 had constantly attended with us every sabbath day 
 on public worship, with that endearment of mutual 
 respect and affection on his part and ours, which 
 must be the result of so intimate a relation ; one of 
 whom we have so particularly thought when we 
 have been acknowledging the divine goodness in 
 " raising up of our sons for prophets, and of our 
 young men for Nazarites ;" it is then particularly 
 seasonable, that we should struggle with our own 
 hearts to say. Thy will be done ! Once more, 
 
 4. It may be the design of such a providence as 
 this, to quicken us all in our work, and especially 
 his surviving brethren. 
 
 Had it been the death of a stranger in such cir- 
 cumstances, it might have quickened us; to see a 
 young person taken thus away ; going to bed at 
 night tolerably well, (for that was the case, though 
 with some complaint, yet in no such immediate 
 danger as should give any peculiar alarm,) and then 
 found in his bed the next morning speechless and 
 senseless, and continuing without perception, and 
 in a great measure without motion, till he expired. 
 I repeat these circumstances again, that young in- 
 attentive minds may be struck with them.- — But it 
 is particularly striking, when we consider it is one, 
 whom we so intimately knew ; one, with w hom so 
 many of us have been conversing and praying 
 almost every day for many years, as well as wor- 
 shipping every sabbath, and communicating every 
 sacrament day. May we all hear that voice, which 
 cries, Be ye also ready ! Especially, may we attend 
 to it, w ho are forming for, or engaged in, the minis- 
 terial work ! 
 
 My dear brethren, and much beloved charge, 
 suffer the word of exhortation. You knew this 
 amiable and excellent youth in a most intimate 
 manner : let me brielly recommend to you the many 
 things which you saw exemplary in him: — his 
 constancy and reverence in attending divine wor- 
 ship, both in public and private ; — his diligence in 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 business ; — his steadiness and regularity in con- 
 duct ; — his prudent and honourable care to avoid 
 silly and extravagant expenses ; — his solicitude to 
 take every opportunity of improving in every 
 branch of learning, that was taught where he at- 
 tended ; especially what related most directly to 
 his sacred profession ; — his unwearied application 
 to the study of the Scripture, and continued watch- 
 fulness for every opportunity of improving it ; — 
 and above all, his zeal for the glory of God, and 
 for the gospel of Christ, and its glorious and pecu- 
 liarly distinguishing truths. I heartily wish each 
 of you, who are to appear under such a public 
 character, the like judgment and solidity in your 
 compositions, the like grave, serious, unaffected, 
 and experimental strain, the same solicitude to do 
 good both to the bodies and souls of men, which 
 made his work his pleasure. You see, how short 
 his career of service here has been : yours may per- 
 haps be as short, and yet shorter. However that 
 be, I pray God, that you may fulfil it as worthily 
 as he did. And then, should I also see your early 
 deaths, I should congratulate rather than condole 
 you ; and esteem such a speedy removal, as a pe- 
 culiar token of your Lord's favour to you, however 
 I might lament it as an awful stroke on those of us 
 who should survive. 
 
 I trust, that his dear aged relatives have that bet- 
 ter world in too near a prospect, to stand in need 
 of much condolence. May God sanctify every dark 
 dispensation of his providence to them, and to us, 
 and give us faith and patience to wait that day, 
 when the last veil shall be taken off, and the tern)s 
 on which we shall be restored to each other shall 
 
 SERMONS. 841 
 
 leave us no room to mourn, that we have been for a 
 while separated, with whatever circumstances of 
 surprise and distress that separation may have been 
 attended! Amen. 
 
 A HYMN ON THE OCCASION. 
 I. 
 
 Jesus, we own thy sov'reign hand ; 
 
 Thy faithful care we own: 
 Wisdom and love are all thy ways, 
 
 When most to us unknown. 
 II. 
 
 By thee the springs of life were formed, 
 And by thy breath are broke ; 
 
 And good is every awful word 
 Our gracious Lord has spoke. 
 III. 
 
 To thee we yield our comforts up ; 
 
 To thee our lives resign ; 
 In straits and dangers, rich, and safe. 
 
 If we and ours are thine. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thy saints in earlier life removed, 
 
 In sweeter accents sing ; 
 And bless the swiftness of the flight, 
 
 That bore them to their King. 
 V. 
 
 The burthens of the lengthened day 
 With patience we would bear ; 
 
 For evening's welcome hour shall show, 
 We were our Master's care. 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN WARRIOR ANIMATED AND CROWNED.* 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Right Honourable the Liidij Frances G'urdiner. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 IThe intimate knowledge which I had of Colonel Gardiner's private as well as public character, and of 
 that endeared friendship which so long subsisted between him and your ladyship, makes me more sensible 
 
 • Preached nt Northampton, October 13, on the heroic death of tlit lloiiourable Colonel Jiimes Gardiner, who was flain in llie liatllc at 
 i rest'jniians, St- plember 21, 1745. 
 
842 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 than most others can he, l>oth of the inexpressible loss you have sustained, and of the exquisite sense 
 yon have of if. I might, in some degree, arffue what you felt, from thcag-ony with which my own lieart 
 was torn hy tliat ever to be lamented stroke, which deprived the nation, and the church, of so great an 
 ornanu'tit and blessing: and indeed. Madam, I was so sensible of your calamity, as to be reatlv in my 
 first thoughts to congratulate you, when 1 heard the report which at (irst prevailed, that you died under 
 the shock. Yet cooler reHection teaches me, on many accounts, to rejoice that your ladyship has survived 
 tliat dearest ))art of yourself; though after having been so lovely and pleasant in your lives, it would 
 have been matter of persoiuil rejoicing, in death not to have been divided. The numerous and promis- 
 ing olfsjiriiig with which (Jod hath blessed your marriage, had evidently the highest interest in the 
 continued life of so pious and all'eetiouate a mother: and I hope, and assuredly believe, there was a more 
 important, and to you a much dearer, interest concerned, as (lod may be, and is, signally honoured, by 
 the manner in which you bear this heaviest and most terrible stroke of his paternal rod. 
 
 God had been pleased. Madam, to make you both eminent for a variety of graces ; and he has propor- 
 tionably distinguished you both, in the opportunity he has given you of exercising those, which suit the 
 most painful socnes that can attend a pious and an honourable life. But when I consider, what it is to 
 Lave lost such a man, at such a time, and in such circumstances, I must needs declare, that brave and 
 heroic as the death of the Colonel was, your ladyship's part is beyond all comparison the hardest. Yet 
 even here has the grace of Christ been sufTicient for you ; and I join with your ladyship in adoring the 
 power and faithfulness of him, who has here so remarkably shown, that he forgets not his promise to 
 all his people, of a strength proportionable to their day ; that they may be enabled to glorify him in the 
 hottest furnace into whicli it is possible they should be east. 
 
 To hear (as T have heard from several persons of distinguished character, who have lately had the 
 happiness of being near your ladyship) of that meek resignation to the divine will, of that calm patience, 
 of that Christian courage, with whicli, in so weak a state of health and spirits, you have supported 
 under this a\\ ful providence, has given me great pleasure, but no surprise. So near a relation to so 
 brave a man might have taught some degree of fortitude, to a soul less susceptible of it than your lady- 
 ship's. Nor is there any doubt, but the prayers he has so long been laying up in store for you, especially 
 since the decay of his constitution gave him reason to expect a speedy remove, will assuredly at such a 
 season come into remembrance before God. And above all, the sublime principles of the Christian re- 
 ligion, so deeply imbibed into your own heart as well as his, will not fail to exert their energy on suchi 
 an occasion. These, Madam, will teach you to view the hand of a wise, a righteous, and a gracious 
 God in this event; and will sliow you, that a friendship founded on such a basis, so very endearing, and 
 so closely cemented, as that which has been here for many years a blessing to you both, can know only 
 a very short interruption, and will soon grow up into a union infiriitely nobler and more delightful, which 
 never shall be liable to any separation. 
 
 In the mean time, Madam, it may comfort us not a little under the sense of our present loss, to think 
 what religious improvement we may gain by it, if we are not wanting to ourselves : and happy shall we he 
 indeed, if we so bear the rod, as to receive the instructions it so naturally suggests and enforces. Persons 
 of any serious reflection will learn from this awful event, how little we can judge of the divine favour 
 by the visible dispensations of Providence here : they will learn, (and it may be of great importance to 
 consider it, just in such a crisis as this,) that no distinguished degree of piety can secure the very best of 
 men from the sword of a common enemy : and they will see (written, alas, in characters of tlie most 
 precious blood that war ever spilt in our island) the vanity of the surest protectors and comforters 
 which mortality can alford, at a time when they are most needed. 
 
 These are general instructions, which I hope thousands will receive, on this universally lamented oc- 
 casion : but to you, Madam, and to me, and to all that were honoured with the most intimate friendship 
 of this Christian hero, his death has a peculiar voice. Whilst it leads us back into so many past scenes 
 of delight, in the remembrance of which we now pour out our souls within us, it calls aloud, amidst all 
 this tender distress, for a tribute of humble thankfulness to God, that ever we enjoyed such a friend, 
 and especially in such an intimacy of mutual afl'ection ; and that we had an opportunity of observing, 
 in so many instances, the secret recesses of a heart, which God had enriched, adorned, and ennobled 
 "ivith so much of his own image, and such abundant communications of his grace : it calls for redoubled 
 diligence and resolution, in imitating that bright assemblage of virtues, which shone so lesplendent in 
 our illustrious friend : and surely it must, by a kind of irresistible influence, mortify our afl'ections to 
 this impoverished world ; and must cause nature to concur with grace, in raising our hearts upwards to 
 that glorious al)0(ie, where he dwells triumphant and immortal, and waits our arrival with an ardour of 
 pure and elevated love, which it was impossible for death to quencli. 
 
 Next to these views, nothing can give your ladyship greater satisfaction, than to reflect, liow liappy 
 you made the amiable consort yon have lost, iii that intimate relation you so long bore to each other ; iu 
 which, I well know, that growing years ripened and increased your mutual esteem and friendship. Nor 
 will your generous lieart be insensible of that pleasure, which may arise from redecting, that the manner 
 of his death (though in itself so terrible that we dare not trust imagination with the particular review) 
 was to him, in those circumstances, most glorious, to religion highly ornamental, and to his country 
 (great as his loss is) on various accounts benelicial. Far, very far, be it from us to think, that Colonel 
 (Jardiner, though fallen by the weapons of rebellion, has fought and died in vain. I trust in God, that 
 so heroic a behaviour will inspire our warriors with augmented courage, now they are called to exert it 
 in a cause, the most noble and important that can ever be in question, the cause of our laws, our liberty, 
 and religion. I trust, all who keep up a correspondence with heaven by prayer, will renew their inter- 
 cession for this bleeding land with increasing fervour, now we have lost one who stood in the breach with 
 such unwearied importunity. And I am well assured, that of the multitudes who lay up his memory in 
 
FUNERAL SERMONS. 
 
 843 
 
 their inmost hearts with veneration and love, not a few will be often joining their most affectionate 
 prayers to God, for your ladyship, and the dear rising branches of your family, with those which you may, 
 in consequence of a thousand obligations, always expect from, 
 
 Madam, 
 
 Your ladyship's most faithful 
 and obedient humble servant, 
 
 Northampton, November 27, 1745. P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Rev. ii. 10, latter part. 
 
 Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee 
 
 a crown of life. 
 
 It is a glory peculiar to the Christian religion, that 
 it is capable of yielding joy and triumph to the 
 mind, amidst calamities, in which the strength of 
 nature, and of a pliilosophy that has no higher a 
 support, can hardly give it serenity, or even pa- 
 tience. Those boasted aids arc but like a candle 
 in some tempestuous night, which, how artificially 
 soever it may be fenced in, is often extinguished 
 amidst the storm, in which it should guide and 
 cheer the traveller, or the mariner ; whom it leaves 
 on a sudden, in darkness, horror, and fear: while 
 the consolation of the gospel, like the sun, makes a 
 sure day even when behind the thickest cloud, and 
 soon emerges from it with an accession of more 
 sensible lustre. 
 
 The observation is verified in these words, con- 
 sidered in connexion with that awful providence, 
 which has this day determined my thoughts to fix 
 upon them, as the subject of my Discourse ; the 
 fall of that truly great and good man. Colonel 
 Gardiner : the endearing tenderness of whose 
 friendship would have rendered his death an un- 
 speakable calamity to me, had his character been 
 only of the common standard ; as on the other hand, 
 the exalted excellency of his character makes his 
 death to be lamented by thousands, who were not 
 happy in any peculiar intimacy or personal ac- 
 quaintance with him. 
 
 While we mourn the brave warrior, the exemplary 
 Christian, and the afiectionate friend ; lost to our- 
 selves and our country, to the church and the 
 world, at a time when we most needed all the 
 defence of his bravery, all the edification of his 
 example, all the comfort of his converse : struck 
 with the various and aggravated sorrow of so 
 sudden and so terrible a blow, metiiinks there is 
 but one voice that can cheer us, which is this of the 
 great Captain of our salvation, so lately addressing 
 him, and still addressing us, in these coniprehen,sive 
 and animated words ; Be thou faithful unto death, 
 and I will give thee a crown of life. 
 
 With regard to the connexion of them, it may be 
 
 sufficient to observe, that our Lord in all these 
 seven epistles to the Asiatic churches represents the 
 Christian life as a warfare, and the blessings of the 
 future state as rewards to be bestowed on conquer- 
 ors. " To him that overcometh will I give" such and 
 such royal donatives. Pursuing the same allegory, 
 he warns the church of Smyrna of an approaching 
 combat, which should be attended with some severe 
 circumstances. Some of them were to become 
 captives ; the " devil shall cast some of you into 
 prison :" and though the power of the enemy was to 
 be limited, in its extent as well as its duration, to 
 the tribulation of ten days, it seems to be implied, 
 that while many Avere harassed and distressed 
 during that time, some of them should before the 
 close of it be called to resist unto blood. But tlieir 
 great leader furnishes them with suitable armour, 
 and proportionable courage, by this gracious assur- 
 ance, which it is our present business further to 
 contemplate: Be thou faithful unto death, and I 
 will give thee a crown of life. 
 
 In which words you naturally observe a charge, — - 
 and a promise by which it is enforced. — I shall 
 briefiy illustrate each, and then conclude with some 
 refieetions upon tiie whole. 
 
 First, I am to open the charge here given : Be 
 thou faithful unto death. 
 
 Concerning which I would observe, tliat though 
 it is immediately addressed to the church at Smyrna, 
 yet the nature of the thing, and numberless passages 
 of the divine word, concur to prove, that it is com- 
 mon in its obligation, to all Christians, and indeed 
 to ail men. 
 
 I shall not be large in explaining the nature of 
 faithfulness in general ; concerning which I might 
 show you, that the word here rendered faithful, 
 has sometimes a relation to the fesfiniony Mhich 
 God has given us, and sometimes to some trust that 
 he has reposed in us. In the former sense, it is 
 properly rendered believing, and opposed to infi'^ 
 delity : Be not faithless, but believing. In the 
 latter, it is opposed to injustice: He that is faithful 
 in that which is the least, is faithful also in much : 
 whereas he that is unjust in the least, is unju.st also 
 in much. And it is in reference to this .sense of it, 
 that our Lord represents himself as saying to the 
 man who had improved his talents aright, Well 
 
8-14 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 done, good and fiiithfiil servant ! Our deceased 
 friend was so remarkably faithful in both these 
 senses; so ready to admit, and so zealous to defend, 
 the faitli once delivered to the saints; and so active 
 in improving those various talents, with whicli in 
 mercy to many others, as well as to himself, God liad 
 intrusted liim; that it was very natural to touch 
 upon these signilications of tlic word, though it has 
 here a more particular view to another virtue, for 
 which he was so illustriously conspicuous, I mean, 
 the courageous fidelity of a soldier in his warfare. 
 
 In this sense of the word, it is opposed to 
 treachery or cowardice, desertion, or disobedience to 
 military orders. And thus it is used elsewliere in 
 this same book of the Revelation, w hen speaking of 
 those who war under the banner of the Land), the 
 King of kings, and Lord of lords, the inspired writer 
 tells us, they are called, and chosen, and faithful, 
 a select body of brave and valiant soldiers. 
 
 This hint will also fix the easiest and plainest 
 sense in which the persons, to whom the text is 
 addressed, arc required to be faithful unto death ; 
 whieli, tiiough it does indeed in general imply a 
 patient continuance in well-doing, in whatever 
 scenes of life Divine Providence may place us; yet 
 does especially refer to martial bravery, and express 
 a readiness to face death in its most terrible forms, 
 when our great General shall lead us on to it. You 
 well know this to be an indispensable condition of 
 our being acknowledged by him in the day of his 
 final triumph : and of this he warned those that 
 gathered around him, when he was first raising his 
 army, under the greatest disadvantages in outward 
 appearance ; expressly and plainly telling them, 
 that they must be content to follow him to martyr- 
 dom, to follow him to crucifixion, when they receive 
 the word of command to do it ; or that all their 
 profession of regard to him would be in vain. If 
 any man, says he, will come after me, let him deny 
 himself, and take up his cross, and follow me : for 
 he that loveth his own life more than me, is not 
 worthy of me ; he does not deserve the honour of 
 bearing my name, and passing for one of my sol- 
 diers ; indeed he cannot on any terms be my 
 disciple. 
 
 This therefore is in effect the language of our 
 Lord, when he says. Be thou faithful unto death. 
 It is as if he had said, " Remember, all you of 
 Smyrna, or of any other place and country, that 
 call yourselves Christians, tliroughout all genera- 
 tions, that you were by baptism enlisted under my 
 banners : remember, that you have as it were 
 sealed and subscribed your engagement to me, by 
 every sacrament you have since attended ;" (as 
 indeed it is well known, the word sacrament origi- 
 nally signifies a military oath, which soldiers take 
 as a pledge of fidelity to (heir general;) " remem- 
 ber, therefore, that you are ever to continue with ne, 
 
 and to march forward under my direction, whatever 
 hardships and fatigues may lie in the way. And 
 remember, that if I lead you on to the most formid- 
 able combat, you must cheerfully obey the word of 
 command, and charge boldly, though you should 
 inunediately die, whether by the sword or by lire. 
 Should yyu dare to flee, I am myself your enemy ; 
 and the weapons which I bear would justly be 
 levelled at your own traitorous heads. But if you 
 bravely follow me, I know how to make you ample 
 amends, even in circumstances when no human 
 power and gratitude can reach you ; for it is my 
 glorious prerogative to engage, that to those who 
 are thus faithful unto death, I will give a crown of 
 life." We are therefore. 
 
 Secondly, to consider the promise, by which the 
 charge is enforced : I will give thee a crown of life. 
 
 And here I might observe, — a crown of life is the 
 glorious reward proposed, — and it is to be received 
 from the hand of Christ. 
 
 1. A crown of life is the reward proposed: which 
 we are sure in this connexion implies both grandeur 
 and felicity ; here, though rarely, connected to- 
 gether. 
 
 There is, no doubt, an allusion in these words to 
 the ancient, and I think very prudent, custom of 
 animating the bravery of soldiers by honorary re- 
 wards, and particularly by crowns ; sometimes of 
 laurel, and sometimes, in some extraordinary in- 
 stances, of silver or gold ; which they were per- 
 mitted to wear on public occasions, and in conse- 
 quence of receiving which they were sometimes 
 entitled to some peculiar immunities. But here 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, conscious of his own divine 
 power and prerogative, speaks with a dignity and 
 elevation, which no earthly prince or commander 
 could ever assume ; promising a crown of life, and 
 that (as was observed before) even to those who 
 should fall in the battle : a crown of life in the 
 highest sense ; not only one, whicli should ever be 
 fresh and fair, but which should give immortality 
 to the happy brow it adorned ; and be for ever worn, 
 not only as the monument of bravery and victory, 
 but as the ensign of royalty too : a crown connected 
 with a kingdom, and with what no other kingdom 
 cau give, perpetual life to enjoy it ; perpetual 
 youth and vigour to relish all its delights. And 
 this is agreeable to the language of other scriptures, 
 where we read of the crown of life, which the Lord 
 hath promised to them that love him ; a crown of 
 righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge 
 shall give ; a crown of glory, which fadcth not 
 away. We may also observe, 
 
 2. That it is said to be given by Christ. 
 
 This some pious commentators have explained 
 as intimating, that it is the gift of the Redeemer's 
 free and unmerited grace, and not a retribution due 
 to the merit of him that receiveth it. And this is 
 
 t 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 an undoubted truth, which it is of the highest im- 
 portance to acknowledge and consider. The proper 
 wages of sin, is death ; but eternal life is (in oppo- 
 sition to wages) the gift of God through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. We should humbly own it every 
 day, tliat there is no proportion between the value 
 of our services, and the crown which we expect to 
 receive : should own, that it is mercy that pardons 
 our sins, and grace that accepts our services; much 
 more, that crowns them. Grace, grace, shall (as it 
 were) be engraven upon that crown, in ciiaracters 
 large and indelible : nor will that inscription dimin- 
 ish its lustre, or impair the pleasure with which 
 we shall receive it. I could not forbear mentioning 
 this thought, as a truth of the utmost importance, 
 which stands on the firmest basis of very many ex- 
 press scriptures ; a truth, of which perhaps no man 
 living had ever a deeper sense than our deceased 
 friend. But I mention it thus obliquely, because 
 it may be doubted v,'hether we can justly argue it 
 from hence ; since the word ffive is sometimes used 
 for rendering a retribution justly due, and tliat in 
 instances where grace and favour have, in propriety 
 of speech, no concern at all.* 
 
 But it is certain, that this expression, " I will 
 give thee a crown of life," is intended to lead our 
 thoughts to tliis important circumstance ; that this 
 crown is to be received from the hand of Christ 
 himself. And the apostle Paul evidently refers to 
 the same circumstance, in terms which show how 
 much he entered into the spirit of the thought, when 
 he says. The Lord the righteous .Judge shall give it 
 me: he himself, the great .Judge of the contest, 
 whose eye witnesses the whole course of it, whose 
 decision cannot err, and from whose sentence there 
 is no appeal: alluding to the judge who presided 
 in the Grecian games, who was always a person of 
 rank and eminence, and himself reached forth the 
 reward to him who overcame in them. 
 
 So that, on the wliole, when our Lord Jesus 
 Christ says, Be thou faithful unto death, and I will 
 give tliee a crown of life; methinks our devout 
 meditations may expatiate upon the words, in some 
 such paraphrase as this. It is as if he had said to 
 you, and to mc, and to all his people, " O my faith- 
 ful soldiers, fear not death in its most terrible ar- 
 ray, for you are immortal. Fear not th em that can 
 kill the body ; you have a nobler part, which they 
 cannot reach ; and I will undertake, not only for 
 its rescue, but its happiness. I will answer for it, 
 on the honour of my royal word, that it shall five in 
 a state of noble enlargement, of triumphant joy. 
 Think on me : I am he that liveth, though I was 
 dead: and behold, I am alive for evermore : and 
 because I live, you shall live also ; shall exist in a 
 state that deserves the great and honourable name 
 
 * Compare Malt. xx. 8. Give the labourers their hire. Col iv I 
 Master*, U'V unto your servants that which is just and equal. 
 
 SERMONS. 845 
 
 of life ; so that earth in all its lustre and pleasure, 
 when compared with it, is but as a scene of death, 
 or at best, as an amusing dream when one awaketh." 
 
 We may also consider him as pursuing this ani- 
 mating address, and saying, " My brave companions 
 in tribulation and patience, you shall not only live, 
 but reign. Think not, thou good soldier, who art 
 now fighting under my banner, that thy general 
 will wear his honours alone. If I have my crown, 
 if I have my triumph, be assured th.it thou also 
 shalt have thine. Thou niayst indeed seem to 
 perish in the combat ; and thy friends may mourn, 
 and thine enemies insult, as if thou wert utterly cut 
 off. But behold, true victory spreads over thee her 
 golden wing, and holds out, not a garland of fading 
 flowers or leaves, but a crown that shall keep its 
 lustre, Mhen all the costliest gems on earth are 
 melted in the general burning ; yea, when the lumi- 
 naries of heaven are extinguished, and the sun and 
 stars fade away in their orbs." 
 
 " Nor will I," does he seem to say, " send thee this 
 crown by some inferior hand ; not even by the 
 noblest angel, that waits on the throne I have now 
 ascended. Thou shalt receive it from mine own 
 hand " (from that hand which would make the least 
 gift valuable : what a dignity then will it add to 
 the greatest !) " Nor will I myself confer this re- 
 ward in private ; it shall be given with the most 
 magnificent solemnity. Thou shalt be brought to 
 me before the assembled world ; thy name shall be 
 called over; thou shalt appear, and I Mill own 
 thee and crown thee in public view. Thy friends 
 shall see it with raptures of joy, and congratulate 
 an honour in which they sliall also share. Thine 
 enemies shall see it with envy and with rage : to in- 
 crease their confusion and misery, they shall see, 
 that while by their malicious assaults they were en- 
 deavouring to destroy thee, they were only esta- 
 blishing thy throne, and brightening the lustre 
 which shall for ever adorn thy brow ; while theirs 
 is blasted with the thunder of resistless wrath, and 
 deeply engraven with the indelible marks of ven- 
 geance. This crown shalt thou for ever wear, -as 
 the perpetual token of my esteem and aflection : nor 
 shall it be merely a shining ornament ; a rich re- 
 venue, a glorious authority, goes along with it. 
 Thou shalt reign forever antl ever ; and be a king, 
 as well as a priest, unto God." 
 
 They who enter by a lively faith into the ini])ort 
 of these glorious words, will (I doubt not) jjardon 
 my having expatiated so largely upon them. We 
 have believed, and therefore have wc spoken : and 
 I question not, but that many of you have in the 
 course of this representation prevented me in some 
 of the reflections, which naturally arise from such a 
 subject. Yet it may not be improper to assist your 
 devout meditations upon them. 
 
 (1.) What reason have we to adore the grace of 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 our hicsscd Redeemer, which prepares and bestows 
 sueli rewards as tliese ! 
 
 Wliile we hear liiiu sayingj, Be thou faithful unto 
 death, and I will give thee a crown of life; me- 
 thinks it is but natural for each of our hearts to 
 answer, " Lord, dost thou speak of giving a crown, 
 a crown of life and glory to nie ! Too great might 
 the favour seem, if I, who have so often lifted uj) 
 my rebellious hand against tliy throne, itiglit be al- 
 lowed to lay down this guilty head in tlie dust, and 
 lose the memory of my treasons, and the sense of 
 my punishment together, in everlasting forgetful- 
 ness. And is such a crown prepared, and wilt thou, 
 my injured Sovereign, who mightest so justly arm 
 thyself with vengeance against me, bestow this 
 crown witli thine own hand ; with all tliese other 
 circumstances of dignity, so as even to make my 
 triumphs thine own ! — What is my strictest fidelity 
 to thee! Tliough I do indeed (as I humbly desire 
 that I may) continue faithful unto death, I am yet 
 but an unprofitable servant; I have done no more 
 than my duty. I have pursued thy work, in thy 
 strength ; and in consequence of that love which 
 thou hast put into my heart, it hath lieen its own 
 reward : and dost thou thus crown one favour with 
 another! — Blessed Jesus, I would with all humility 
 lay that crown at thy feet, acknowledging before 
 thee, and the whole world, (as I shall at length do 
 in a more expressive form,) that it is not only the 
 gift of thy love, but the purchase of thy blood. 
 Never, never had I beheld it, otherwise than at an 
 unapproachable distance, as an aggravation of my 
 misery and despair, hadst not thou worn another 
 crown, a crown of infamy and of thorns. The gems 
 which must for ever adorn my temples, were form- 
 ed from those precious drops, that once trickled 
 down thine ; and all the splendour of my robes of 
 triumph is owing to their being washed in the blood 
 of the Lamb." With what pleasing wonder may 
 we pursue the thought ! And while it employs our 
 mind, 
 
 (2.) How justly may this awaken a generous am- 
 bition to secure this crown to ourselves! 
 
 Dearly as it was purchased by our blessed Re- 
 deemer, it is most freely offered to us, to the young- 
 est, to the meanest, to the most unworthy. It is 
 not prepared merely for those that have worn an 
 earthly diadem or coronet ; (would to God it were 
 not despised by most of them, as a thing less worthy 
 of their thoughts than the most trifling amusement, 
 by which they unl)end theirminds from the weighty 
 cares attending their station!) but it is prepared 
 for you ; even for every one, who thinks it worth 
 pursuing, and accepting, upon the terms of the gos- 
 pel covenant ; for every one, who believing in 
 Christ, and loving him, is humbly determined 
 through his grace to be faithful unto death. — And 
 shall this glorious proposal be made to you in vain? 
 
 Were it an earthly crown that could lawfully be 
 obtained, arc there not many of us, notwithstanding 
 all its weight of anxieties, and all the piercing 
 thorns with which we miglit know it to be lined, 
 that would be ready eagerly to seize it, and perhap* 
 to contend and quarrel with each other for it .' But 
 here is no foundation for contention. Here is a 
 crown for each ; and such a crown, that all the 
 royal ornaments of all the princes upon earth, when 
 compared with it, are lighter than a feather, and 
 viler than dust. And shall we neglect it ? shall we 
 refuse it, from such a hand too, as that by which it 
 is offered ? Shall we so judge ourselves unworthy 
 of eternal life, as thereby indeed to make ourselves 
 worthy of eternal death ? For there is no other 
 alternative. — But blessed be God, it is not univer- 
 sally neglected. There are (I doubt not) among 
 you, many who pursue it, many who shall assuredly 
 obtain it. For their sakes let us reflect, 
 
 (3.) How courageously may the heads which are 
 to wear such a crown be lifted up to face all the 
 trials of life and death ! 
 
 Those trials may be various, and perhaps ex- 
 treme ; but if borne aright, far from depriving us of 
 this crown, they will only serve to increase its 
 lustre. It is the apostle Paul's express assertion ; 
 and he speaks as transported with the thought: 
 For this cause we faint not, but though the outward 
 man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by 
 d-ay : for our light aftliction, which is but for a 
 moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the 
 things which are seen, but at the things which are 
 not seen ; for the things which are seen are tempo- 
 ral, but the things which are not seen are eternal. 
 Surely, with this support, we may not only live, 
 but triumph, in poverty, in reproach, in weakness, 
 in pain: and with this we may die, not only 
 serenely, but joyfully. O my friends, where are 
 our hearts ? Where is our faith ? Nay, I will add, 
 where is our reason ? Why are not our eyes, our 
 desires, and our hopes, more frequently directed 
 upward ? Surely one ray from that resplendent 
 diadem miglit be sufficient to confound all the false 
 charms of these transitory vanities, which indeed 
 owe all their lustre to the darkness in which they 
 are placed. Surely, when our spirits are over- 
 whelmed within us, one glance of it might be suf- 
 ficient to animate and elevate them; and might 
 teach us to say, in the midst of dangers, sorrows, 
 and death. In all these things we are more than con- 
 querors, through him that loved us. Thus have 
 some triumphed in the last extremities of nature; 
 and both the subject and the occasion also, loudly 
 calls us to reflect, 
 
 (4.) What reason we have to congratulate those 
 happy souls that have already received the crown 
 of life ! 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 When we are weeping over the cold, yea, the 
 bleeding, remains of such, surely it is for ourselves, 
 and not for them, that the stream flows. The 
 thought of their condition, far from moving our 
 compassion, may rather inspire us with joy and 
 with praise. Look not on their pale countenance, 
 nor on the wide and deep wounds, through which, 
 perhaps, the soul rushed out to seize the great 
 prize of its faith and hope ; though even those 
 wounds appear beautiful, when earned by distin- 
 guished virtue, by piety to their country and their 
 God. Look not on the eyes closed in death, or the 
 once honoured and beloved head, now covered with 
 the dust of the grave ; but view, by an internal 
 believing eye, that different form which the exalted 
 triumphant spirit already wears, the earnest of a 
 yet brighter glory. Their great Leader, whose care 
 of them we are fondly ready to suspect, or secretly 
 to complain of, as deficient, in such circumstances 
 as these, points (as it were) to the white robes, and 
 the flourishing palms, which he has given them ; 
 and calls for our regard to the crowns of life which 
 he has set on their heads, and to the songs of joy 
 and praise to which he has formed their exulting 
 tongues. And do we sully and dishonour their 
 triumphs with our tears ? Bo we think so meanly of 
 heaven, and of them, as to wish them with us again ; 
 that they might eat and drink at our tables; that 
 they might talk with us in our low language ; that 
 they might travel with us from stage to stage in this 
 wilderness ; and take their share with us in those 
 vanities of life, of which we ourselves are so often 
 weary, that there is hardly a week, or a day, in 
 which we are not lifting up our eyes, and saying, 
 with a deep inward groan, O that we had wings 
 like a dove ! then would we flee away, and be at rest. 
 
 Surely with relation to these faithful soldiers of 
 Jesus Christ, who have already fallen, it is matter 
 of no small joy to reflect, thait their warfare is 
 accomplished ; that they have at length passed 
 through every scene in which their fidelity could be 
 endangered ; so that now they are inviolably secure. 
 How much more then should we rejoice, that they 
 are entered, not only into the rest, but into the joy, 
 of their Lord ; that they conquered, even when they 
 fell, and are now reaping the fruits, the celestial 
 and immortal fruits, of that last great victory ! 
 
 A sense of honour often taught the heathens, 
 when attending those friends to the funeral pile 
 who had died honourably in their country's cause, 
 to use some ceremonies expressive of their joy for 
 their glory ; though that glory was an empty name, 
 and all the reward of it a wreath of laurel, which 
 was soon to crackle in the flame, and vanish into 
 smoke. And shall not the joy and glory of the 
 living spirit aflfect us, much more than they could 
 be affected with the honours paid to the mangled 
 corpse ? 
 
 SERMONS. 847 
 
 Let us then (hink with reverence, and with joy, 
 on the pious dead ; and especially on those, whom 
 God honoured with any special opportunities of 
 approving their fidelity, in life, or in death : and if 
 we mourn, (as who, in some circumstances, can 
 forbear it?) let it be as Christians, with that mix- 
 ture of high congratulation, with that erect counte- 
 nance, and that undaunted heart, which becomes 
 those that see by faith their exaltation and felicity ; 
 and burning with a strong and sacred eagerness to 
 join their triumphant company, let us be ready to 
 share in the most painful of their trials, that we 
 may also share in their glories. 
 
 And surely, if I have ever known a life, and a 
 deati), capable of inspiring us with these sentiments 
 in their subliment elevations, it was the life and 
 the death of that illustrious Christian hero. Colonel 
 Gardiner; whose character was too well known to 
 many of you, by some months' residence here, to 
 need your being informed of it from me ; and whose 
 history was too remarkable, to be confined within 
 those few remaining moments, which must be allot- 
 ted to the finishing of this discourse. Yet there was 
 something so uncommon in both, that I think it of 
 high importance to the honour of the gospel and. 
 grace of Christ, that they should be delivered down 
 to posterity, in a distinct and particular view. And 
 therefore, as the providence of God, in concurrence 
 with that most intimate and familiar friendship 
 with which this great and good man was pleased to 
 honour me, gives me an opportunity of speaking of 
 many important things, especially relating to his 
 religious experiences, with greater exactness and 
 certainty than most others might be capable of 
 doing; and as he gave me his full permission, in 
 case I should have the aflliction to survive him, to 
 declare freely whatexcr I knew of him, which I 
 might apprehend conducive to the glory of God, 
 and the advancement of religion ; I purpose pub- 
 lishing, in a distinct tract, some remarkable pas- 
 sages of his life, illustrated by extracts from his 
 own letters, which speak in the most forcible man- 
 ner the genuine sentiments of his heart. But as I 
 promise myself considerable assistance in this work 
 from some valuable persop.s in the northern part of 
 our island, and possibly from some of his own 
 papers, to which our present confusions forbid my 
 access, I must delay the execution of this design at 
 least for a few months ; and must likewise take 
 heed, that I do not too much anticipate what I may 
 then offer to the public view, by what it might 
 otherwise be very proper to mention now. 
 
 Let it therefore suffice for the present to remind 
 you, that Colonel Gardiner was one of the most 
 illustrious instances of the energy, and indeed I 
 must also add, of the sovereignty, of divine grace, 
 which I have heard or read of in modern history. 
 He was in the most amazing and miraculous man- 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 ncr, without any divine ordinance, without any 
 relin;ious op\)ortunity, or peculiar advantage, deli- 
 verance, or affliction, reclaimed on a sudden, in the 
 vij;;our of life and health, from the most licentious 
 and abandoned sensuality, not only to a steady 
 course of refi^ularity and virtue, but to high devo- 
 tion, and strict, though unaffected, sanctity of 
 manners: a course, (in which he persisted for more 
 than twenty-six years, that is, to the close of life,) 
 so remarkably eminent for piety towards God, 
 diffusive humanity, and Cliristian charity, lively 
 faith, deep humility, strict temperance, active dili- 
 gence in improving time, meek resignation to the 
 will of God, steady patience in enduring alllictions, 
 unaffected contempt of secular interest, and reso- 
 lute and courageous zeal in maintaining truth, as 
 well as in reproving and (where liis authority 
 might take place) restraining vice and wickedness 
 of every kind ; that I must deliberately declare, 
 that when I consider all these particulars together, 
 it is hard for mc to say wliere, but in the book of 
 God, he found his example, or where he has left 
 his equal. Every one of these articles," with many 
 more, I hope (if God spare my life) to have an 
 opportunity of illustrating, in such a manner as to 
 show, that he was a living demonstration of the 
 energy and excellency of the Christian religion ; 
 nor can I imagine how I can serve its interests 
 better, than by recording what I have seen and 
 known upon this head ; known to my edification, as 
 well as my joy. 
 
 But oh, how shall I lead back your thoughts, and 
 my own, to what we once enjoyed in him, without 
 too deep and tender a sense of what we have lost ! 
 To have poured out his soul in blood ; to have fallen 
 by the savage and rebellious hands of his own coun- 
 trymen, at the wall of his own house ; deserted by 
 those who were under the highest obligations that 
 can be imagined to have defended his life with their 
 own ; and above all, to have seen with his dying 
 eyes the enemies of our religion and liberties tri- 
 tmiphant, and to have heard in his latest moments 
 the horrid noise of their insulting shouts ; — is a 
 scene, in the view of which we arc almost tempted 
 to say, Where were the shields of angels? where 
 the eye of Providence? where the remembrance of 
 those numberless prayers, which had been offered 
 to God for the preservation of such a man, at such 
 a time as this? — But let faith assure us, that he was 
 never more dear and precious in the eye of his 
 divine Leader, than in these dreadful moments, 
 when, if sense were to judge, lie might seem most 
 neglected. 
 
 That is of all others the happiest death, which 
 may most sensibly approve our fidelity to God, and 
 our zeal for his glory. To stand singly in the com- 
 bat with the fiercest enemies, in the best of causes, 
 when the whole regiment he commanded fled ; to 
 
 throw himself with so noble an ardour to defend 
 those on foot, whom the whole body which he head- 
 ed were appointed to support, when he saw that the 
 fall of the nearest commander exposed those bravo 
 men to the extremify of danger ; were circum- 
 stances that evidently showed how much he held 
 honour and duly dearer than life. He could not 
 but be conscious of the distinguished profession he 
 had made, under a religious character ; he could 
 not but be sensible, how much our army, in circum- 
 stances like these, needs all that the most generous 
 examples can do to animate its officers and its 
 soldiers; and therefore, although when his men 
 would hear no voice but that of their fears, he might 
 have retreated without infamy, he seems deliberately 
 and rightly to have judged, that it was better he 
 should sacrilice in such a cause tiie little remainder 
 of his life, than attempt to preserve it, by a conduct 
 which might leave the least room even for envy and 
 prejudice to suggest, that the regard to religion and 
 the public, which lie had so remarkably professed 
 on all occasions, was not strong enough to lead 
 him to face danger and death, which natural 
 bravery itself had in early youth taught him to 
 despise. He had long since felt the genuine force 
 of honour sanctified by piety, and consequently had 
 too just a zeal for his king and country, to bear the 
 thought of deserting the trust committed to him in 
 such an important moment ; too warm a love for 
 the i)rotestant religion, not to rejoice in a call of 
 Providence to bleed in its defence. And therefore, 
 that he might make the last and utmost opposition 
 in his power to a rebellious crew, by whose success, 
 (siiould it go on,) an inlet would be opened to the 
 cruel ravages of arbitrary power, and to the bloody 
 and relentless rage of popish superstition, " he 
 loved not his life unto the death." And in this 
 view his death was martyrdom, and has, I doubt 
 not, received the applauses and riswards of it ; for 
 what is martyrdom, but voluntarily to meet death, 
 for the honour of God, and the testimony of a good 
 conscience ? 
 
 And if it be indeed true, as it is reported on \ery 
 considerable authority, that before he expired he 
 had an interview with the leader of the opposite 
 party, and declared in his presence " the full as- 
 surance he had of an immortal crown, which he 
 Was going to receive," it is a circumstance worthy 
 of being had in everlasting remembrance : as in 
 that case Providence may seem wonderfully to have 
 united two seemingly inconsistent circumstances 
 ill the manner of his dying ; the alternative of either 
 of which lie has spoken of in my hearing, as what 
 with hunible submission to the great I^oid of life 
 he could most earnestly wish ; " that if he were not 
 called directly to die for the truth," which he rightly 
 judged the most glorious and happy lot of mortality, 
 " he might either fall in the field of battle, fighting 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 in defence of the religion and liberties of his coun- 
 try, or might have an opportunity of expressing his 
 hopes and joys, as a Christian, to the honour of his 
 Lord, and the edification of those about him, in his 
 departing moments ; and so might go off this earthly 
 stage," as in the letter that relates his death, it is 
 expressly said that he did, " triumphing in the 
 assurance of a blessed immortality." 
 
 How difficult it must be in our present circum- 
 stances, to gain certain and exact information, you 
 will easily perceive ; but enough is known, and 
 more than enough, to show how justly the high 
 consolations of that glorious subject which we have 
 been contemplating, may be applied to the present 
 solemn occasion. From what is certain with rela- 
 tion to him, we may presume to say, that, after he 
 had adorned the gospel by so honourable a life, in 
 such a conspicuous station, God seems to have 
 condescended, as with his own hand, to raise him 
 an illustrious theatre, on which he might die a 
 venerable and amiable spectacle to the world, and 
 to angels, and to men; balancing to his native land 
 by such an exit, the loss of what future services it 
 could have expected, from a constitution so much 
 broken as his was, by the fatigues of his campaign 
 in Flanders, where by his indefatigable services in a 
 very extreme season he contracted an illness, from 
 which he never recovered. 
 
 On the whole therefore, whatever cause we have 
 (as indeed we have great cause) to sympathize 
 with his wounded family, and with his wounded 
 country ; and how decent soever it may be, like 
 David, to take up our lamentation over the mighty 
 fallen, and the brightest weapons of our war perish- 
 ed ; (and oh, how naturally might some of us adopt 
 the preceding words too!) yet after all, let us en- 
 deavour to summon up a spirit like that with which 
 he bore the loss of friends, eminent for their good- 
 ness and usefulness. And while we glorify God 
 in him, as on so many accounts we have reason to 
 j do, let us be animated by such an example to a 
 resolution of continuing, like him, stedfast in our 
 duty, amidst desertion and danger, and all the ter- 
 rors that can beset us around. As he, having been 
 so eminently faithful unto death, has undoubtedly 
 received a crown of life, which shines with distin- 
 guished lustre, among those who are come out of 
 much tribulation ; let us be courageous followers 
 of him, and of all the glorious company of those 
 who through faith and patience inherit the promises. 
 Then may we be able to enter into the comfort and 
 .spirit of them all, and of this promise in particu- 
 
 SERMONS. 849 
 
 lar ; and shall not be discouraged, though we are 
 called to endure a great fight of afflictions, or even 
 to sacrifice our lives, in defence of our religion and 
 liberties : since in this cause we know, if we sliould 
 fall like him, even to die is gain. We are assured 
 upon the best authority, that as he fought the good 
 fight with so heroic a fortitude, and finished his 
 course with so steady a tenor, and kept the faith 
 with so unshaken a resolution, there is laid up for 
 him a crown of brighter glory than he has yet re- 
 ceived, which the Lord the righteous Judge will 
 give unto him in that great expected day : and we 
 know, that it shall be given, not unto him only, nor 
 only to those who have had an opportunity of dis- 
 tinguishing themselves by the most heroic services 
 or sufferings in the cause of their divine Leader, but 
 unto all them that love his appearance. Amen. 
 
 A HYMN SUNG AFTER THE SERMON. 
 I. 
 
 Hark ! 'tis our heavenly Leader's voice. 
 
 From his triumphant seat : 
 'Midst all the war's tumultuous noise. 
 
 How powerful, and how sweet ! 
 
 n. 
 
 " Fight on, my faithful band," he cries, 
 
 " Nor fear the mortal blow : 
 Who first in such a warfare dies 
 
 Shall speediest victory know. 
 HI. 
 
 " I have my days of combat known. 
 
 And in the dust was laid ; 
 I5ut thence I mounted to my throne, 
 
 And glory crowns my head. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " That throne, that glory, you shall sliare ; 
 
 My hands the crown shall give ; 
 And you the sparkling honours wear. 
 
 While God himself shall live. ' 
 V. 
 
 Lord, 'tis enough ! our bosoms glow 
 
 With courage, and with love : 
 Tliy hand shall bear thy soldiers through, 
 
 And raise their heads above. 
 
 VL 
 
 My soul, while deaths beset me round. 
 
 Erects her ardent eyes ; 
 Vnd longs, through some illustrious wound. 
 
 To rush and seize the prize. 
 
 3 I 
 
S50 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 MEDITATIONS ON THE TEARS OF JESUS OVER THE GRAVE 
 
 OF LAZARUS* 
 
 To Mrs. Sarah Clark, 
 
 The worthy relict of my ever lionoured friend and father the Reverend Dr. Clark, this Sermon is most 
 respectfully inscribed, as a sincere and affectionate, though inconsiderable, token of tender sympathy with 
 her, and of indelible veneration for the exemplary character of the dear deceased, 
 
 By her most ol)Iigcd 
 
 and faithful humble servant, 
 
 Northampton, January 7, 1750-1. P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 John xi. 35. 
 Jesus wept. 
 
 The only-begotten Son of God, while he sojourned 
 in human flesh, passed through a sad variety of 
 calamities, and on the whole bore all that a himiane 
 heart, untainted with guilt, and untouched with 
 remorse of conscience, could suffer; that he might 
 learn to pity us more afTectionatcly under the like 
 sorrows ; that he might lay in for us a stock of 
 divine consolations ; and especially, that he might 
 teach us by his sacred example to avoid the opposite 
 and fatal extremes, of despising the chastening of 
 the Lord, and fainting when we arc rebuked by 
 him. Let us learn of him ; and while we feel our 
 afflictions like men, we shall bear them as the chil- 
 dren of God, and the heirs of glory. 
 
 We here view our blessed Redeemer in a cir- 
 cumstance, in which most of us have frequently, 
 and alas ! very lately, been ; and in which, should 
 our lives be prolonged, we may again and again be: 
 a circumstance, which is the common lot of mor- 
 tality, and must of course be the most frequent 
 aflliction of those who are richest in dear and 
 valuable friends, and which will be most tenderly 
 felt l)y those who best deserve (o enjoy tiiem. It is 
 the sad tribute, and I had almost said, the sad 
 equivalent, which in these regions of death we pay 
 for loving and being beloved. We see Jesus 
 
 * Preached .it St. Albans, Dec. 16, 1750, on the dcHtli'of the Rev. 
 S,iinuel Clark, U.D. who died the 4tli of Uccembcr, in the C6lh yeai 
 his age. 
 
 approaching the new grave of a friend ; of such a 
 friend, as providence and grace had concurred to 
 render, in some measure, worthy of those precious 
 and honourable tears, which were now dropped 
 upon his tomb. It was Lazarus of Bethany. We 
 know the tender story too well, to need a large 
 rehearsal of it in moments so precious as these. 
 We know, that when Jesus' drew near to Bethany 
 soon after the interment of his deceased friend, and 
 was going with his sisters and a train of other 
 mourners to his grave, he wept. — We shall inquire 
 into the cause of these tears, — shall consider the 
 useful lessons we may naturally learn from them, — 
 and then shall give the few remaining moments of 
 our time to what is peculiar to the sad occasion 
 of our present assembly, the death of the truly 
 reverend, pious, and amiable Dr. Clark ; concerning 
 whom I think I may justly say, and your con- 
 sciences will attest how justly, that we have person- 
 ally known few, over whose tomb Christ would 
 more probably have wept, had he stood near it in 
 mortal flesh. May this seasonable review of his 
 tears over Lazarus regulate and sanctify those, 
 which so naturally flow from our eyes in the present 
 circumstance, where almost every object we behold 
 calls them wp afresh 
 
 I. Let us consider on what accounts wc may 
 probably suppose that our blessed Redeemer now 
 wept. 
 
 All we can do to answer this inquiry is, to take 
 an attentive survey of the circumstances of the 
 case, so far as our information reaches ; that wc may 
 observe what occurred in thcin, proper to have 
 
PRACTICAL 
 
 impressed a wise and benevolent mind. For 
 though we pretend not to limit the infinitely more 
 capacious views of our divine Master, yet we may 
 assure ourselves that nothing material and im- 
 portant was passed over by him without due regard. 
 
 On these principles we may naturally observe, — 
 that our Lord was now near a grave, — the grave of 
 a pious and amiable friend, — surrounded with a 
 train of affectionate mourners, — and with some ob- 
 stinate sinners in his view, who were bringing upon 
 themselves dreadful and final destruction. 
 
 1. Our Lord was now going to visit a grave; 
 and that might awaken some meltings of com- 
 passion. 
 
 He was coming to a place where the king of ter- 
 rors had lately erected a new trophy, and given a 
 specimen of his universal triumph. Now, had Christ 
 been a stranger to the person of Lazarus, it might 
 have touched him to think of his untimely fate ; (for 
 untimely it seems to have been ;) to have seen the 
 sad monuments of mortality before his eyes, and 
 liave thought, " this is the sepulchre of Lazarus : 
 he who, but a little while ago, was in the prime and 
 vigour of his days, and in the ample enjoyment of 
 what earth could afford to make him happy,* is now 
 the prisoner of the grave. The residue of his days 
 is cut ofl'in the midst ; and how many purposes are 
 broken ! how many hopes are blasted ! How melan- 
 choly a change from yonder elegant and pleasant 
 mansion, to this house of darkness and of silence, 
 from the cheerful converse of his affectionate sisters, 
 and these, numerous friends who are fondly pro- 
 longing their attendance, though the rites of his 
 funeral are ended ! He, w ho was thus beloved and 
 caressed, is already brought to say to corruption, 
 Thou art my father ; and to the worm. Thou art my 
 mother and my sister." 
 
 " Sad change!" might any of us naturally have 
 said on such an occasion ; " melancholy catastrophe ! 
 not of Lazarus alone, but of the whole human na- 
 ture ! For this is the end of all men; this the house 
 appointed for all living." Here their magnificence 
 and power, their beauty and vigour, their learning 
 and wisdom, he they ever so remarkable, must, ere 
 long, mingle with meanness and indigence, defor- 
 mity and weakness, ignorance and folly. Here 
 the human frame, that masterpiece of the divine 
 contrivance, which wears so much of the image of 
 its Maker, must, ere long, be thrown aside as a 
 broken vessel, in which there is no pleasure : and 
 ' all the present generation of men, and all that are 
 I to arise in future ages and most distant nations, 
 
 ♦ I have liore taken it for granted, that Lazarus was a yoniif; man, 
 iiid in prosperous circum.slaure^ of life. We may pmhably conclude 
 tlje former, as we only read of his sisters, but of no wife or children ; 
 ,ind from his livin;; so long after this, as tradition tells us he did. 
 The latter seems very evident, not only from their ntmierous acquaint- 
 ance at Jerusalem, (John xi. 19.) hul also from the splendid enter- 
 tuiimient afterwards mentioned, John xii. 2, 3. Compare Luke x. 
 38, et Dcq. 
 
 3 I 2 
 
 SERMONS. 851 
 
 shall in their turns lie as low as Lazarus. Such 
 are the awful monuments of the divine displeasure 
 for that first offence ; when, as by one man sin 
 entered into the world, and death by sin, so the 
 sentence of death passed upon all men, as all had 
 sinned in him. Hither, even to the darkness, the 
 abasement, the putrefaction of the grave, are they 
 all travelling through a road of disappointment and 
 vanity, of pain and sorrow. Thus are the original 
 glories of man tarnished and withered, and his 
 paradise turned into a Golgotha ! And all this to 
 the apostate creature is only the beginning of 
 punishment and misery, did not sovereign grace 
 interpose for his deliverance. 
 
 Who can say, that such natural and obvious 
 thoughts as these, did not now arise in the mind of 
 the blessed Jesus ? Who can think it impossible, 
 that he should thus, from the tomb of Lazarus, take 
 a view of this wide ruin, and drop a compassionate 
 tear over the various miseries of mortal man ? But 
 such reflections as these might have arisen from the 
 funeral of one who had been an entire stranger to 
 him : we are, therefore, further to consider, 
 
 2. That our Lord was now attending the grave of 
 a pious and amiable friend ; and on that account it 
 would be very natural for him to weep. 
 
 The evangelist takes particular care to tell us, 
 verse 5, that .lesus loved Lazarus, and Martha, and 
 Mary ; nor do we read of any family in which he 
 more frequently lodged when he came up to Jeru- 
 salem, or where he conversed with more freedom and 
 endearment. We may therefore assure ourselves, 
 that, on the death of Lazarus, the remembrance of 
 this intimate friendship would be recollected by 
 the faithful and affectionate Jesus with due regard: 
 and accordingly we sec, that when he would in- 
 form his followers of this mournful jirovidcnce, 
 he uses this kind language, verse 11, Our friend 
 Lazarus sleepetli. Where, by the way, we may 
 observe, that he not only speaks of him by the 
 ai)pellation of friend, but represents his death as a 
 sleep; as if there were something in the word dead 
 so harsh and doleful that he hardly knew how to 
 connect it with so dear a namcf Now, on the same 
 principles, it is natural to conclude, that, when our 
 Lord came to the house of liis deceased friend, 
 and saw the apartments or gardens, in which he 
 had often conversed with him to their mutual de- 
 light ; when he reviewed the places, in which they 
 had taken sweet counsel together, and from whence 
 tliey had gone to the house of God in company ; the 
 recollection must naturally awaken a tender sor- 
 row, not unlike what we feel on such an occasion. 
 
 Christ could not fail to rccollet't, what a friend 
 
 + Po, as Mr. Rollin has observed with his usual elegance and ()ro. 
 priety, when Homer describes Antiloclius as bringing word to Ai hilles 
 of the death of his friend I'atroclns, lie makes him only say, Kcirai 
 11,1 r|„«;Xi)i— Patroclus is fallen. Roll. Mm. de i:tiid. Vol. 1. page 
 ■107. 
 
So2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Lazarus liati been lo liiin and to Iiis interests, anil 
 according to liis ability to the village of Bethany, 
 and tlie city of Jernsaleui, whence so many came to 
 pay their last cilice of respect to his remains. Had 
 he been employed in the ministerial work, (as 1 
 think ecclesiastical history tells us, that after his 
 resurrection he was,) his fidelity and zeal under 
 that character would, no doubt, have been tenderly 
 recollected. As it was, we may assure ourselves, 
 that if Christ will another day acknowledge so 
 cheap a kindness as a cup of cold water bestowed 
 on a disciple in his name, he could not possibly 
 forget, how hospitably he had himself been enter- 
 tained by Lazarus ; how cheerfully, and how thank- 
 fully, that generous man had opened, not only his 
 house, but his heart to him, and to the least of his 
 servants, who no doubt had been cordially welcome 
 to him for his Master's sake. A tear over the grave 
 of such a friend might have seemed but an equit- 
 able tribute, had it fallen from any other eye ; and 
 a common spectator would have thought of no fur- 
 ther cause. Accordingly the Jews who were pre- 
 sent, made this reflection upon it, verse 36, Be- 
 hold, how he loved him ! which by the way seems 
 to intimate, that it was not only a drop or two, 
 which silently stole down the cheeks of our Lord, 
 but that it was a copious shower ; and as before it 
 is expressly said, that he groaned in spirit, so per- 
 haps some strong gestures might concur to express 
 Ills grief. And though tlie immediate prospect of 
 the resurrection of Lazarus would administer a re- 
 lief peculiar to this case ; yet the thoughts of those 
 agonies through which he had passed, of the me- 
 lancholy situation in which the body now lay, and 
 perhaps of the death he was again to encounter, 
 and from which he should not arise till the heavens 
 were no more, might all contribute to melt the 
 compassionate heart of the blessed Jesus ; espe- 
 cially in concurrence with what we are next to 
 mention : for, 
 
 3. Our Lord certainly wept out of compassion to 
 surviving relatives and friends, whom he saw almost 
 overwhelmed with their sorrow. 
 
 This reason is expressly assigned in the 33d 
 verse : When Jesus saw her (that is, Mary) weep- 
 ing, and the Jews also weeping which came witli 
 her, he groaned in spirit, and was troubled. The 
 original expression* properly signifies, he troubled 
 or afllicted himself ; that is, he gave the reins in 
 some measure to his grief; he allowed a set of sor- 
 rowful ideas to arise and lodge in his mind, which 
 he could at pleasure have banished or exchanged : 
 and thus he set himself to practise that lesson, which 
 he afterwards taught by his apostle, of weeping with 
 them that weep ! 
 
 And indeed, it was in this respect a very moving 
 scene, which may justly demand a tear from us in 
 
 * Erapafei/ eavrov. 
 
 the review of it. Had the deceased left behind 
 him an alTectionate widow, who might have seemed 
 but half to survive, while what she esteemed the 
 better part of herself had been torn away ; or had 
 a train of lovely children appeared, in such various 
 gradations of filial sorrow as their respective ages 
 might have admitted, like tender llovvers drooping 
 their heads surcharged with rain ; w e may reason- 
 ably conclude, a suitable sympathy would have 
 been extended to them, and an additional tear 
 have been given to each. But here were the 
 two pious sisters, whom friendship and grace had 
 concurred to join in such endearing bonds to the 
 deceased, and to Jesus himself. The Jews also 
 were weeping ; partly for Lazarus, partly for his 
 sisters, and partly for themselves ; and perhaps 
 some of them, for that sorrow which Jesus him- 
 self discovered in his aspect and deportment, 
 before these tears fell. Now we cannot won- 
 der, that this penetrated the heart of Christ yet 
 more deeply, when he saw grief reflected from 
 breast to breast, and each affectionate friend in that 
 mournful assembly bearing (as it were) the burthen 
 of all. — What I now see before me, what I per- 
 suade myself w e all feel, gives me so lively an idea 
 of this part of my subject, that it will scarce per- 
 mit me to pursue it. — I will only add, that if there 
 were any of the spectators then present, who did 
 not weep with the rest, and bore no part in so 
 general a lamentation, even they might perhaps be 
 an occasion of yet greater distress to him, who 
 always formed the truest estimate of things, and saw 
 through every fallacious appearance by wliich our 
 ignorance and credulity are daily misled ; which 
 leads me to add, 
 
 4. The Lord Jesus Christ himself might justly 
 weep, to think of that dreadful ruin which was com- 
 ing on some present for their continued impenitency 
 and unbelief. 
 
 He who saw what was in man, undoubtedly dis- 
 cerned that malignity of heart, which so soon bore 
 some of them to contrive the death of Lazarus, that 
 he might not remain a Ifving testimony of Christ's 
 miraculous power; and which would so soon lead 
 them to reject the yet more important evidence of 
 his mission, produced by his own resurrection from 
 the dead, expressly foretold and appealed to in that 
 view. He saw all the dreadful consequences of 
 this obstinacy, in their utter ruin by the Romans : 
 and as hell was open to him, and destruction had 
 no covering, he foresaw distinctly the horrors of 
 their guilty spirits, when they entered these gloomy 
 regions ; and the increasing horrors that should 
 seize them in the judgment-day, when in their 
 graves they should hear the voice of the Son of 
 God, and come forth to the resurrection of eternal 
 damnation. And though our Lord could not hut on 
 the whole approve of that vengeance, by which a 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 righteous God would plead his cause, and revenge 
 the quarrel of his rejected gospel ; yet some senti- 
 ments of pity mingled themselves with the view, as 
 when he had lately wept over Jerusalem : just as a 
 humane and compassionate judge looks with com- 
 passion on those criminals, whom for wise and, on 
 the whole, benevolent reasons, be given up to de- 
 struction. — But I mention this only incidentally, as 
 it is not hinted at in the context, and has no imme- 
 diate connexion with the event which is now so 
 ready to engross our thoughts. — We have seen the 
 cause of these tears ; and now, 
 
 II. Let us consider to what purposes of practical 
 edification we may improve them. 
 
 The following reflections may naturally arise 
 from the subject ; and I hope, it may be useful to 
 dwell a while upon each of them. 
 
 1. This may serve to vindicate a compassionate 
 temper from the imputation of contemptible weak- 
 ness. 
 
 The fierceness of some minds, and the indolence 
 of others, leads them to despise those whom they 
 frequently see under the impression of tender pas- 
 sions. But wherefore should they despise them ? 
 Surely when God implanted in our nature these 
 melting emotions of soul, he intended them for 
 some valuable pui-pose ; and not that we should 
 look upon them as weeds, to be rooted out of every 
 well cultivated soil. I am sure, we cannot learn 
 any such stoical maxims from the word of God ; for 
 there, not only the most eminent saints, but many 
 of the bravest heroes, are described with the softest 
 sentiments of humanity about them, and are fre- 
 quently painted in tears.* What greater names 
 has the Old-Testament history transmitted to us, 
 than those of Abraham and Joseph, David and 
 Jonathan, Hezekiah and Jeremiah ? Yet we are 
 told of various occasions on which they wept. And 
 the tears of Paul, that great Christian hero, who 
 could so courageously face imprisonment and mar- 
 tyrdom for the cause of trath and goodness, are 
 frequently spoken of, either in his history, or his 
 letters. But a greater than these is here : Jesus 
 wept. In the days of his flesh he poured out tears, 
 not only under the pressure of his own personal 
 sorrow, but sometimes out of compassion for others : 
 and he particularly did it in the instance before us, 
 though he was to receive a public honour, which 
 rendered this day one of the most illustrious of those 
 which preceded bis own resurrection. He behaved 
 in every circumstance of his conduct, with a dig- 
 nity worthy of his general character, and of the 
 present occasion ;f as one equal to the great work 
 
 » So those of Homer, .iiid Virgil, are often represented ; wliicli 
 plainly shows, tliat lliose most jiuhcious disterners of human natnre 
 thought, there was nothing in such a turn of mind inconsistent with 
 
 I the most exalted courage and magnanimity, 
 t This is most heantifully illustrated by the Reverend Dr. Lardner, 
 ID his vindication of this story against Mr. Woolston's objections; 
 which is written with a spirit of critiei<m as just and noble, as that of 
 hit antagonist was false, invidious, and mcati. 
 
 to be performed, and no w?y elevated or transport- 
 ed at the signal honour he did him : yet, (to allude 
 to an expression of Job concerning himself,) while 
 he was amongst them with a majesty beyond that of 
 a king even in his army, he tempered that majesty 
 with the gentlest sympathy which could have been 
 expected from one, whose professed business it was 
 to comfort the mourners. Surely in this respect, as 
 well as every other, the disciple is not above his 
 master ; nor can those marks of tenderness be a re- 
 proach to us, which were not unbecoming in him. 
 In circumstances like these in which Jesus wept, 
 tears are so far from being an unmanly weakness, 
 that they may rather be called (as they are by one 
 of the most celelirated of the Roman poets, nostri 
 pars optima sensiis ) one of the most amiable parts 
 in the constitution of human nature ; which God 
 seems to have provided on purpose, that we might 
 be able to give each other a sensible token of com- 
 miseration and aft'ection, which cannot so easily be 
 counterfeited as fond words may ; and he has taken 
 care, that while they testify our passions, they 
 should also ease them, and unload the heart when 
 almost ready to sink under its pressure. 
 
 2. We may also learn from the preceding dis- 
 course, what may be of use to direct our compassion 
 in the most affectionate workings of it. 
 
 We well know, that the blessed Jesus had all the 
 passions in the most harmonious order, and that the 
 symmetry of his soul was entirely unbroken. We 
 may therefore assure ourselves, that tears which flow 
 from the considerations on wliich he shed them, are 
 the drops of wisdom and of virtue. 
 
 To weep with him over the grave of a depart- 
 ed friend, especially of one remarkable for piety 
 and usefulness, is most easy and natural. The 
 more difiicult task will be, to restrain those tears 
 within such bounds, that they may not swell into a 
 torrent, which will bear down our comforts, our 
 hopes, and our graces. But while they are duly 
 moderated, and submitted to the great Lord of life, 
 we shelter ourselves under the great example of 
 Jesus. And indeed, without such an authority, 
 our sorrow.s on sucii an occasion miglit be vindi- 
 cated, not only as a tribute of humanity due to the 
 living as well as the dead, but in some degree as a 
 proper expression of our pious humiliation under 
 God's rebuking hand. For nothing is an aflliction, 
 any further than it is felt ; and the very end of Pro- 
 vidence with respect to us would be frustrated, if 
 our hearts were not deeply penetrated and impressed 
 by the stroke. 
 
 But let not personal and domestic calamities 
 engross all the tenderness of our .souls. Let our 
 compassions .spread them.selves all abroad, and take 
 in every proper object which may fall under their 
 notice. Let us endeavour to pass through the world, 
 as (he friends of God, and of mankind ; as those. 
 
854 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 wlio have a cordial aflectioii for llie whole Iminan 
 species, and being- ourselves men, can think no 
 human concern entirely foreign to our hearts. Let 
 us often think, of the state of human nature in 
 general; how it is defaced and pained, and wound- 
 ed even to death : how man grows up to lamenta- 
 tion and mourning ; and every age, and station, 
 and eireumstanec, has its aflliction ! Even tender 
 and innocent infancy is not excepted ; those little 
 helpless strangers in life, though they have not 
 sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression, 
 are born under the sentence of it. What numbers 
 of them are brought into the world, only to smart, 
 and weep, and die ! And in other instances, when 
 the human blossom begins to open, and the beauti- 
 ful colours discover themselves in the bud, how 
 does it wither before it be fully grown ! Children, 
 who have all the charms and all the hopes their 
 early age can admit, seem to have been spread for 
 a few years, only to take a deeper root in a parent's 
 heart, tliat it might ache and bleed the more, when 
 they are plucked up, sometimes by a sudden stroke, 
 and sometimes by a slow progress which prolongs 
 to weeks and months that dreadful operation by 
 which we arc losing a part of ourselves. Youths 
 are taken away in the full bloom and vigour of their 
 nature, in the gay delusive dream of their mortal 
 hopes. And we who survive, find so many thorns 
 springing up in our most pleasing paths, that we 
 are sometimes tempted, with him who knew most of 
 the magnificence and luxury of life, and so most of 
 its vanity, to " bless the dead which are already 
 dead, rather than the living which are yet alive." 
 Such is the course of mortal man. Thus are we, 
 like the rebellious Israelites, doomed to wander in 
 the wilderness, with but one certainty before us in 
 it, the sad assurance of dropping our carcasses there ! 
 Surely had we no distinct and peculiar sorrows of 
 our own, we might feel those of this unhappy family 
 to which we arc allied, and there would be an evi- 
 dent propriety, as well as humanity, in the tears we 
 shed for it. Yet while wc are lamenting its ruined 
 state, let us own the righteous sentence of tliat God, 
 who is thus consuming our days in vanity, and our 
 years in trouble, so that we spend them as a tale 
 that is told, or rather, as the word might be much 
 better translated, like a sigh or a groan. 
 
 But there is another subject of yet juster lament- 
 ation, to which our thoughts are directed by what 
 wc have now been hearing ; I mean, that obsti- 
 nacy of heart with wliich multitudes reject the coun- 
 sel of God against themselves, and despise that 
 sovereign remedy which divine grace has provided 
 for all their sorrows in the everlasting gospel. How 
 many wilfully make themselves, as it were, blind 
 and deaf, lest they should see with their eyes, and 
 hear with their ears, and be converted and healed. 
 Dying souls are a sad spectacle indeed; especially, 
 
 when they arc dying under the means and offers of 
 life, and aggravate their ruin by the only method 
 of cure. Where is the faith of Christians, if wc do 
 not regard them as on the borders of eternal ruin ? 
 and where is the tenderness of human nature, if 
 we can see them with indili'erence in so dangerous 
 and miserable a state? David i)eheld the trans- 
 gressors, and was grieved ; and rivers of waters ran 
 down his eyes, because men kept not God's law. 
 Will it be less fatal to reject his gospel .' Or should 
 we be less impressed, when the tears of the Re- 
 deemer over perishing sinners are added to all the 
 other moving considerations whidi attend their 
 ease ? O that our head were waters, and our eyes 
 w ere fountains of tears, that we might weep day and 
 night, for our neighbours, our friends, it may be, 
 some of our dearest relatives too ! who seem so near 
 to that state, where there will be perpetually weep- 
 ing and wailing, and even gnashing of teeth ; where 
 the torment of all the raging, shall be added to the 
 distress of the mourning, passions. 
 
 3. With what cheerfulness may wc address this 
 compassionate Saviour, when we are weeping on 
 such accounts as called forlli his own tears ! 
 
 I might take occasion from hence to argue the en- 
 couragements we have, at all times, and on ail oc- 
 casions, to apply ourselves to him, as (according to 
 the apostle's representation) a high priest who can 
 be touched with the feeling of our infirmities ; or 
 (according to Isaiah's description) a gracious shep- 
 herd, who gathers the lambs in his arms, and car- 
 ries them in his bosom, and gently leads those that 
 are with young. 
 
 But that we may not too much digress on so 
 copious, though so delightful, a theme, let us now 
 apply tiic thought to the view of those sorrows in 
 particular, which gave occasion to the mention of 
 it ; the removal of dear and pious friends, and the 
 consideration of the calamity and degeneracy of 
 mankind. 
 
 When our heart is overwhelmed within us, on 
 occasion of the removal of those who were dearest 
 to us in the bands of nature and of love, what a 
 shelter is here ! — to come to this immortal friend, 
 and open to him all the anguish of our souls. 
 " Blessed Redeemer, behold me in a case which was 
 once thine own ! Thou knowest what it is to be in 
 this sad circumstance, to be weeping over the grave 
 of a friend. Let what thine own gentle benevolent 
 heart then felt, engage thee to pity what I now feel, 
 and to pour balm into this deep and painful wound I 
 O let my heart be more open to thee, now this dear 
 guest has quitted his apartment in it ! Rai.se my 
 soul from that dust to which it is fondly cleav- 
 ing, to thy glorious and amiable self! Make up my 
 loss in a more abundant communication of thy divine 
 friendship, and I shall own it a rich equivalent for 
 w hatever mortality can invade !" 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 Again, under that distress on account of the 
 calamities or degeneracy of human nature, which 
 the best of men do most tenderly feel, let us apply 
 ourselves to Christ as the great physician, who can 
 cure the one and the other ; as one who condescend- 
 ed to come into the world, that the world through 
 him might be saved. And when we see, as we shall 
 often see, the feebleness of our own attempts ; and 
 are grieved to observe, how little we can do to sup- 
 ply the necessitous, to comfort the sorrowful, or to 
 reform the vicious ; let us humbly commend thera 
 to him, whose arm is almighty, whose treasures of 
 grace and love are inexhaustible. In a word, let 
 us with all the importunity of faith and prayer 
 nrge him to redress what he once bewailed, and 
 to hasten that happy day, when every thing that 
 offends shall be taken out of his kingdom, and a 
 face of universal holiness and joy shall be spread 
 through all its spacious provinces, and triumph for 
 ever there. 
 
 4. From the tears of Christ at the grave of Laza- 
 rus, we may infer, that the death of his saints is 
 still precious in his sight. 
 
 There is not surely in human life a more cutting 
 circumstance, than the sight of a dying friend. 
 When all the importunity of prayer, the prescrip- 
 tions of art, and the offices of love, have been tried 
 in vain ; when physicians own the case to be des- 
 perate, and the symptoms of it arc so evident, that 
 we cannot so much as flatter ourselves with one 
 remaining, though delusive, hope, in favour of a 
 life which perhaps we would gladly ransom with 
 our own : yet even then, with what officious though 
 unavailing eagerness do we return to the bed of 
 languishing ! and while our eyes are weeping, and 
 our hearts bleeding, how willingly do we pass 
 through days of confinement and nights of wakeful- 
 ness, if we may but contribute to make the passage 
 to the grave a little the smoother, when the journey 
 cannot be prevented ! But alas, how poor do our 
 efforts appear, and how weak and impotent all our 
 pity and our friendship ! 
 
 Let us then, from the subject we are now upon, 
 draw a consolation with regard to our pious friends, 
 which may surely, as a reviving cordial, raise our 
 spirits when they droop, and mingle praises with 
 our tears. Jesus attends them, though in an invisi- 
 ble form ; and the eye that wept over Lazarus, is 
 with incessant care fixed upon them. Can we 
 imagine, that he is grown less gracious on his re- 
 moval to the heavenly world ? It is true that he has 
 laid aside those expressions of compassion, which 
 are peculiar to animal nature in this inferior state ; 
 and drops of grief, and sentiments of sorrow, can 
 have no further place. Yet still on the throne of 
 his glory he retains a kind of royal compassion ; 
 and in this respect, as well as another, having loved 
 his own that arc in the world, he loves thera even 
 
 SERMONS. 856 
 
 to the end. He doth indeed, for wise and gracious 
 reasons, permit and appoint their death ; but as he 
 cannot be absent from any place, or unacquainted 
 with any circumstance of mankind, we may assure 
 ourselves that he is not an unconcerned spectator, 
 when his servants are struggling away their breath, 
 and fainting off from the stage of mortality. The 
 compassions of a fellow-mortal are vain and fruit- 
 less ; but those of a God are infinitely important. 
 He can moderate their dying agonies, or communi- 
 cate inward strength in proportion to them. He 
 has a gentle voice, which can assure thera that their 
 sins are forgiven them ; and attendant angels are 
 at his command, to convoy them to the regions of 
 glory. Nay, we may assure ourselves, that as their 
 great and good Shepherd, he will himself be with 
 them when they pass through the dark valley of the 
 shadow of death ; and his rod and his staff will yet 
 comfort them. We may hope, that by his care rays 
 of glory shall cheer them through the gloom ; and 
 the gates of the invisible world, of which he holds 
 the keys, shall be opened upon them, in a manner 
 which shall least shock and surprise. He will sure- 
 ly manifest himself to them by such gracious tokens, 
 and embrace their separate spirits with such unknown 
 endearments, as shall leave no room for one mo- 
 ment's terror, or even a moment's suspicion. He 
 will delight to teach them the songs of heaven, as 
 soon as the breath passes from their mortal lips ; 
 and attemper the rays of opening glory in such a 
 manner, as he knows most suitable to the state of 
 spirits new-born from flesh. 
 
 These meditations seem naturally connected with 
 the subject ; and I am sure, they are full of divine 
 consolation, to support us under the death of our 
 pious friends, and in the views of our own, which 
 is so soon to succeed it : especially when connected 
 with the last reflection I shall suggest, viz. 
 
 5. With what holy triumph will Christ rejoice 
 over all his people, when he hath finally recovered 
 them from the power of the grave, and destroyed 
 that last enemy ! 
 
 What our Lord did in this instance for Lazarus, 
 was but an imperfect specimen of what he intends 
 shortly to do for all that sleep in him. All that are 
 in their graves shall hear his voice, and come forth ; 
 and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Delightful 
 prospect, for the Redeemer, and all the redeemed ! 
 While Christ was thus weeping over Lazarus, he 
 knew what he would do ; and we may assure our- 
 selves, that his gracious heart felt a secret unutter- 
 ble pleasure in the thought of it. It must be de- 
 liglitful to him, while sympathizing with these 
 mournings, to reflect how soon he should give them 
 beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and 
 the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness ; 
 how soon he should turn their sorrow into raptures 
 of pleasing surprise, by the revival of this lamented 
 
860 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 friend. Anil when lie eainc to tlie tomb, and spake 
 tliosedivinely (illicaeiousword.s, Lazarus, come forth ! 
 who can describe, or inmginc, the movinj^ circum- 
 stances that attended it ! With what transport did 
 Lazarus, and Alartlia, and Mary, eml)raee and con- 
 gratulate caeli other! With what a mixture of 
 amazoment and gratitude did they all prostrate 
 themselves at the feet of their almighty Saviour ! 
 and w ith what fervours of devotion and love did the 
 newly-ransomed captive of the grave consecrate to 
 him the life which he had renewed ! A stranger 
 must have beheld such a sight with pleasure : how 
 much sublimer delight must it then give to the 
 great Author of sueii mutual happiness ! 
 
 But, O my l)retliren, what was this resurrection 
 of Ijazarus to a mortal and a sinful state on earth, 
 wlien compared with that resurrection to immortal 
 holiness and glory which Christ is designing for all 
 his people ! Surely the very prospect of it must 
 delight his compassionate licart, and add new joys 
 to his throne at the right hand of the majesty on 
 high. Death is making havoc among his subjects 
 here ; those whom he loveth are sick and dying ; 
 their countenances gather blackness, and their bones 
 are scattered at the grave's mouth : but he foresees 
 the day, when he shall lead captivity captive ; and 
 he seems to glory in the view of it, and to comfort 
 himself (as it were) in the thought of that ample 
 vengeance which he will shortly take on tlieir cruel 
 destroyer. Is not that the language of those sub- 
 lime words, I will ransom them from the power of the 
 grave : I will redeem them from death : O death, I 
 will be thy plague ; O grave, I will ])e thy de- 
 struction ; repentance shall be hid from mine eyes. 
 " Like an inexorable conqueror, I will abolish the 
 very memorial of thee." 
 
 And when the glorious work is accomplished, 
 with what complacency and delight will he survey 
 it! How joyfully will he welcome that important 
 day, which is to vvipe away the reproach of his 
 servants, and to clothe them with beauty, honour, 
 and immortality ! When he sees them springing out 
 of their graves, as a mighty nation born at once, 
 and shining in his own complete likeness, with 
 what pleasure will he view tliat happy change, hear 
 their mutual congratulations, and accept their 
 united praises ! Attendant angels will undoubtedly 
 rejoice ; the morning stars will sing sweeter, than 
 at laying the foundations of the earth, and the sons 
 of God w ill shout louder for joy. With what plea- 
 sure then must the blessed Jesus view it, as the 
 work of his own love, ana the travail of his very 
 sou! ! 
 
 It is a known circumstance in tlie story of 
 Augustus Ca-sar, that when he was quitting empire 
 and life, he expressed his great satisfaction in the 
 improvements he had made in the buildings of 
 Rome, .so that, whereas he found it brick, he left 
 
 it marble.* liut surely Christ may much more 
 justly glory in it, when he descends in all the pomp 
 of tlie resurrection-day, that he has made a nobler 
 change, even in this corporeal part of our nature ; 
 and that whereas he found it mortal, corruptible 
 clay, he has raised it to a strength and splendour 
 superior to that of marble or adamant. This is the 
 joy and triumph of the blessed Jesus ; this is the 
 glorious hope, that animates the Christian under 
 the mournful prospect of the ravages of death. 
 
 Glorious hope! reviving thought ! at once ade- 
 quate to the sorrows of this day ; to the solemn 
 occasion of which I must now turn, and persuade 
 myself I shall not trespass on your patience, though 
 I should a little transgress the limits of your time, 
 while I speak of that venerable and excellent per- 
 son, of that dear, amiable, generous friend, whose 
 much-lamented removal lias directed our medita- 
 tions to this fruitful subject, on which it has been 
 so hard to confine them. 
 
 The reverend and eminently worthy Dr. Samuel 
 Clark had the honour to be descended from ances- 
 tors remarkable for their learning and piety. Mr. 
 Samuel Clark of Bennet Fink, so well known by 
 Ills historical writings, was his great-grandfather 
 by the father's side;t and Mr. Samuel Clark of 
 Aylesbury, the author of those judicious annota- 
 tions on the Bible, which are still so generally 
 esteemed, was his mother's father. As he bore the 
 name of each, he imitated them both, as well in 
 their ministerial as Christian character. His im- 
 mediate parents were very valuable persons, whom 
 God spared to an advanced age to rejoice in such 
 a son ; whom, in regard to the early marks both of 
 genius and seriousness w hieh they discerned in him, 
 they early consecrated (together with his younger 
 brother, the late reverend Mr. Daniel Clark) to 
 the service of the sanctuary. He pursued his 
 academical studies under the direction of the 
 learned Dr. Ker, with whom (as I have been as- 
 sured l>y those who were then liis companions) he 
 acquired an early reputation ; particularly, for that 
 accurate ac<|uaintancc with the Greek language, 
 and that intimate knowledge of the Scrii)turcs, 
 both of the Old and New Testament, in the original, 
 which is so important, I had almost said so indis- 
 pensable, a part of ministerial furniture. 
 
 When he left the academy, he did not choose to 
 enter on preaching directly, though I believe few of 
 his years were better qualified for it; but he re- 
 sided some time in two families of rank, under the 
 
 * Jure fit gloriatiis, niaimorcim se relinquere, quam latcritiatn ac- 
 cepisset.— i'Hf(o;i. Vil. ^ti;;. rap. 28. 
 
 + I have often lieard Dr. Clark express the great satisfaction he liad 
 ill reading a piece of this author, whieli is called Select Lives, in a 
 small folio It indeed contains many very memorable Ihint-s, nowhere 
 else to he found ; and Dr. Clark .said, his early ar()uaintance with it 
 h.id so happy a tendency, to form his mind to the knowleds;e and love 
 of inward religion, and its secret exercises, that he could not but 
 earnestly recommend it to others, especially to young theological 
 students 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 capacity of a chaplain and tutor ; where, while lie 
 was directing the studies of young gentlemen com- 
 mitted to his care, he was greatly improving his 
 own. He had in one of these families considerable 
 offers of preferment in the established church ; 
 which, in concurrence with other much weightier 
 considerations, put him on studying the founda- 
 tions of nonconformity with great attention. The 
 result is well known to you, by the happy ell'ects of 
 it, which you enjoyed for so many years : and 
 though no man was less enslaved to a party spirit, 
 or more ready to do justice and honour to learning, 
 moderation, and piety, wherever he found any of 
 them ; yet I am authorized to say, he never repented 
 the choice he made, under all its temporal disad- 
 vantages : nor is it any wonder to me, that the 
 observation of growing years, and the freest con- 
 verse with men and books, and above all, the 
 nearest views of eternity, increased his satisfaction 
 in it. 
 
 During this period of retirement, of which I have 
 just been speaking, he gave that accurate examina- 
 tion to all the most remarkable theological con- 
 troversies, on which he fixed his judgment in rela- 
 tion to them. And as he heard all the different 
 parties of Christians pleading for themselves, and 
 endeavoured to try them all by Scripture, as the 
 only infallible standard, he happily steered between 
 opposite extremes : and his great natural sagacity 
 enabling him to see much further into many ques- 
 tions, than the generality of mankind do, he plainly 
 discerned, that many matters which have been most 
 warmly debated, have related to what is circum- 
 stantial rather than essential in the doctrines of 
 Christianity, and when sifted to the bottom, relate 
 rather to diO'erent phrases than different ideas. 
 This gave him that moderation, for which he was 
 so eminently remarkable and amiable ; and engaged 
 him, while he w as vigorously supporting and strong- 
 ly enforcing the great peculiarities of the gospel, 
 to hold the truth in love, and not only to bear with 
 those that expressed themselves differently with 
 respect to some of them, but to j)ay a real deference 
 to those valuable (iiialities which he discerned in 
 them, and to which no man seemed to render more 
 impartial justice. It was a maxim, which he early 
 imbibed, and constantly retained, " that all the 
 heresies which had corrupted and afflicted the 
 church, owed their original to men's departing 
 from the simplicity of Scripture, and must derive 
 their cure from a return to it." 
 
 When he appeared under the character of a 
 preacher, he happily joined the rational and pathetic 
 with the Scriptural and evangelical strain. Jn 
 consequence of this, the most judicious hearers 
 were entertained, whilst the least knowing were 
 instructed, and they who had made the greatest 
 progress in the divine life were led on to further 
 
 SERMONS. 857 
 
 improvements. It was an honour to the taste and 
 judgment of those who then constituted this society, 
 that they unanimously made choice of him for their 
 pastor : and who can express how great a blessing 
 it has been to the church and auditory, to have 
 enjoyed the benefit of his labours more than thirty- 
 eight years ? During which, as every public assem- 
 bly in which he presided, has been witness to the 
 fervency of his prayers, and the excellent matter 
 and tendency of his discourses ; so he has had a 
 testimony in the conscience of every one that knew 
 him, how powerful his instructions and exhortations 
 were enforced by the most blameless and honourable 
 conversation. 
 
 Most remarkably may it be said of him, that in 
 strenuous imitation of his Divine Master, he went 
 about doing good ; and all the branches of his work 
 were his delight. As his mind was furnished with 
 a rich variety of knowledge, in consequence of a 
 long and very close attention to reading, meditation, 
 and prayer ; so he was always ready to communi- 
 cate it, and desirous to support, wherever he came, 
 a spirit of rational and improving conversation ; 
 that he might fill up his time profitably abroad as 
 well as at home, and redeem the hours which are 
 so frequently lost ever, by persons of knowledge 
 and piety. Seasons appointed for meals were not 
 exempted from tiiis care ; and as the book of God 
 of course furnished out in his own family food for 
 the mind during that of the morning,* so what he 
 daily met with in other books, (often greatly im- 
 proved by his own judicious reflections,) was happily 
 introduced on other occasions. 
 
 Ills generous heart was always working with 
 some benevolent and useful design ; and he en- 
 deavoured to inspire all about him with such senti- 
 ments, and to encourage to the utmost every worthy 
 pursuit, whether in his brethren in the ministry, or 
 in private Christians. His steadiness of temper 
 carried him through the various accidents of life 
 with uncommon composure. Far from that desultory 
 temper, which is often so fatal to the usefulness 
 even of great men, he pursued witli persevering 
 patience whatever good design he undertook ; and 
 that prudence which was so distinguished a part of 
 his character, enabled him to judge of the import- 
 ance of ends, and the properest measures of obtain- 
 ing them : so that I have seldom known any, who 
 appeared to suffer fewer disappointments in the 
 prosecution of their schemes than he. 
 
 His great modesty did indeed prevent him from 
 some public services, of which he was on many 
 accounts very capable ; I mean, instructing the 
 world more frcfjucntly from the press. But the few 
 specimens of this kind which he has given, arc 
 
 * It was in Dr. Clark's family a general custom, if no other ucces, 
 sary siitiiect of conversation occurred, for every nieinber of it present 
 at lirenkfast to repeat a text of Scripture ; ana I have known it from 
 thence transplanted elsewhere. 
 
858 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 suflicicnt to make us rc<irt t tlicre are no more, and 
 to exvitc our wislies tliat some way may be found 
 of rescuing from oblivion some of his many valuable 
 remains. 
 
 It was one instance of Dr. Clark's remarkable 
 wisdom, that he was a most attentive observer 
 of providence : and the conduct of providence 
 towards him was, in many respects, peculiarly 
 worthy of observation : he delighted himself in the 
 Almighty, and God gave him the desire of his heart. 
 
 He was undoubtedly one of the happiest, as well 
 as one of the best of men, in domestic life ; and 
 indeed for a long course of years prosperity seemed 
 to attend on all his steps. As he was greatly blessed 
 in a most suitable, aifectionate, and amiable con- 
 sort, and in a train of lovely children, he treated 
 them always with the most endearing tenderness, 
 and was perpetually labouring to improve all his 
 influence over them, for their advancement in reli- 
 gion, and in w hatever else might make them capa- 
 ble of increasing happiness. 
 
 Prudence taught him to form friendship with 
 due deliberation, and none could cultivate it more 
 faithfully ; nor could any one be happier in ex- 
 pressing the kind sentiments with wliich his heart 
 overllowed, wherever he professed it; or more ready 
 to think himself obliged, or to return with interest 
 every good office he received. And the good hand 
 of his God was remarkably upon him in this re- 
 spect, in sparing to him for many years some inti- 
 mate friends, for whom he had through life the 
 highest esteem ; and in raising up others towards 
 the close of his life, who showed in the most 
 obliging manner the high respect they paid to his 
 merit as soon as tiiey began to know it, and the 
 pleasure they took in contributing to his happiness. 
 
 As God had placed him in more plentiful cir- 
 cumstances than many of his brethren, it appeared 
 that he well knew how to use and become them. 
 His mind was too great to be in any degree elated 
 with them, too wise and too good to fail of improv- 
 ing them for the best purposes. His liberal soul 
 devised liberal things, which yet he was studious 
 to conceal. He took a peculiar pleasure, in hos- 
 pitably sharing with his brethren and friends the 
 bounties of divine Providence ; and gave and re- 
 ceived a new supply of spirits, while he was con- 
 versing with them in such circumstances. 
 
 Thus did tliis good and happy man pass through 
 a long scries of years, increasing in knowledge and 
 in piety, in zeal and usefulness ; loving all, and by 
 all beloved; honouring all, who deserved any pe- 
 culiar regard, and by all such honoured, in pro- 
 portion to their knowledge of him ; bringing joy 
 into every house which he entered, and most of all 
 into his own when he returned to it. And when 
 towards the close of so bright a day, heavy afflic- 
 tions visited him, he took occasion from them to 
 
 cxhil)it new virtues and graces, and to demonstrate 
 that it was not from speculation alone, he had 
 known how so well in prosperity to inculcate the 
 duties of adversity. He bore frequent visits of 
 acute pain, with uncommon patience and cheerful- 
 ness : and though the unutterable pleasure he took 
 in exerting himself continually in public service, 
 rendered his paralytic disorders peculiarly griev- 
 ous ; yet even these he supported with great re- 
 signation to the will of God, and cheerful hope in 
 his long-experienced goodness. And in this visit- 
 ation, mercy surrounded him in a manner well 
 worthy of our recollection. Though his speech 
 was so much aflccted by it, as to render him, for 
 more than a year and a half, incapable of the la- 
 bours of the pulpit, yet his understanding con- 
 tinued in its full vigour ; nor did I ever hear him 
 discourse with more sagacit}' and penetration, or 
 pray with more readiness or propriety of expression, 
 than since this lamented complaint seized him : and 
 he was still capable of study, which to his latest 
 days he pursued with as much eagerness, as if he 
 had just been laying in his furniture for the 
 ministry. 
 
 There seemed also a providential beauty in the 
 vicissitudes of Dr. Clark's illness and recovery. 
 Whereas he was so extremely afflicted for a con- 
 siderable time at Bath with a complication of dis- 
 tempers, that his skilful physician scarce expected 
 to have found him alive at his return, for several 
 days ; his spirits still kept up, to the amazement of 
 all that were around him, and he discovered a 
 serenity which nothing could discompose, a cheer- 
 fulness which nothing could overbear. Thus he 
 triumphed over death, when it seemed to make its 
 nearest and most deliberate approaches : and after 
 this you know, in how surprising a manner he was 
 given back to the prayers which were offered for 
 him, and restored to his own house, and the house 
 of his friends, again ; yea, what was to him most 
 delightful of all, restored to the house of his God. 
 I cannot express the pleasure with which I reflect 
 upon it, that the last sabbath, and almost the last 
 day of his life, was spent with you in this place ; 
 and that he was administering the sacrament of the 
 Lord's supper to you, but a few hours before he 
 received his final discharge from the services of 
 this lower world.* And truly, I think the circum- 
 stances of that discharge peculiarly favourable. 
 To be so suddenly struck, as to he able only by a 
 speaking smile to testify to the dear relatives then 
 near him, the secret tranquillity and joy of his 
 heart, when all the powers of utterance and of na- 
 ture were failing him at once ; and then to take 
 flight for heaven, without so much as a groan, is a 
 death greatly to be congratulated, when viewed in 
 connexion with such a life. 
 
 ♦ On F.oril's il.iy, Dec. 2, wliprcas lie died od tlic Tuesday following. 
 
FUNERAL 
 
 O my brethren, what shall I say ? With difficulty 
 indeed do I restrain a thousand thoughts which are 
 rising in my mind, while I speak of my friend, of 
 my father, for such I may properly call him, if all 
 the offices of paternal tenderness and care can 
 merit that title. We cannot but mourn, yet let us 
 rejoice too. Let us rejoice, that we have known 
 him, and known him to be such a man ; that he has 
 marked his way with such distinguished usefulness, 
 and scattered so many blessings, of which so many 
 are left behind him. As when Dorcas was gone, 
 surviving friends showed the garments which she 
 had made for the poor, as memorials of her good- 
 ness ; so may I this day show many remaining, 
 many present, effects of Dr. Clark's piety and zeal ; 
 and though so many of them may seem to be hid- 
 den in the grave, yet neither are they lost. To him, 
 I may truly say, that under God I owe even myself, 
 and all my opportunities of public usefulness in the 
 church ; to him, who was not only the instructor of 
 niy childhood and youth in the principles of religion, 
 but my guardian when a helpless orphan, as well 
 as the generous, tender, faithful friend, of all my 
 advancing years. By him were many of you in- 
 structed with me in the course of catechistical lec- 
 tures, and otlier exercises of the like kind, which 
 he so happily invented and diversified for the 
 benefit of the rising generation.* To him, as the 
 instrument in the hand of divine grace, do many of 
 you owe it, that early religious impressions were 
 made upon your minds ; that you were introduced 
 betimes to the table of the Lord ; and that you were 
 formed, by all the advantages of instruction and 
 example, to those characters which many of you so 
 worthily and usefully sustain. In some families he 
 has been in all these respects successively a bless- 
 ing to parents and children ; and he has with un- 
 
 * It was customary with Dr. Clark for many years, to meet younp 
 persons at ttie vestry mi the Thursday evcriini;s for reIif;ioiis rimver. 
 sations, in which he went over successively sriiiie useful suhjects, of 
 which he gave them some schemes in writin;;, th.it they mi:;ht give 
 him an account of them. Thus lie went over the history of Scripture, 
 the evidences of natural and revealed reli-ion, the rea.sonsof the rcfor- 
 matioTi from popery, and the ethics of Solomon, collected from a very 
 judicious analysis which he made of his Proverbs and liook of Eccle. 
 sLisles. He has left heliind him, f.iirly transcribed in short. hand, he- 
 tween two and three hundred discourses on this last subject, which I 
 could wi.sh iu every hand, so far as I can iudite of the specimen I have 
 seen of them. 
 
 SERMONS. 859 
 
 utterable pleasure seen in many of you, that his 
 labours have not been in vain in the Lord. And I 
 cannot look upon the children of the charity school 
 now present, without recollecting, that it is now 
 more than thirty years since it was founded by his 
 pious care, exciting the generality of his flock to 
 make (if I mistake not) the first effort of this kind, 
 that was ever made among the dissenters in the 
 country ; which has since been followed in many 
 other places with happy success, and which I hope 
 will still be, as I am sure the institution here has 
 already been, a means of great good, with respect 
 both to the temporal and eternal interest of many, 
 who must otherwise have been exposed to great 
 ignorance and wretchedness. 
 
 Such are the monuments which our honoured 
 friend has left behind him ; and may they long re- 
 main ! May the effects of his pious and excellent 
 labours be more and more conspicuous ! Grievous 
 indeed would it be, if any who heard such exhorta- 
 tions, and saw them illustrated by such an example, 
 should remain unimpressed with a sense of divine 
 things. If there be any such present, let me entreat 
 them to hear him once more, while dead, yet speak- 
 ing. Let me entreat tliem to give an attentive 
 perusal to those excellent sermons on the folly of 
 irresolution in religion, which at our united request 
 he published : they seem sufficient to convince 
 every conscience ; and O that divine grace might 
 add efficacy to the conviction ! As for those of us, 
 who by that grace have felt and submitted to the 
 power of such considerations, and are now serving 
 God in the sincerity of our hearts, what can be 
 more seasonable, under our present distress, than to 
 have recourse to that collection of Scripture pro- 
 mises, which he so judiciously ranged in compari- 
 son with the characters to which they are made. 
 Let us drink of these living streams, from that 
 fountain which can never be drawn dry, and our 
 souls shall he refreshed ; and we shall be taught to 
 say, with a joy which a loss like this will not be 
 able to take away, The Lord liveth, and blessed be 
 our Rock ; and let the God of our salvation be ex- 
 alted. Amen ! 
 
 I 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS; 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 
 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT OF THE PRIMITIVE MINISTERS 
 
 OF THE GOSPEL * 
 
 2 Cor. iv. 5. 
 
 For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the 
 Lord; and oursclres your servants for Jesus' sake. 
 
 TiiF. apostle observes, that what had Imppencd to 
 him with regard to his imprisonment at Rome, 
 though it seemed to bear so melancholy an aspect, 
 yet did on the whole fall out by the special provi- 
 dence of God for the furtherance of the gospel ; 
 and we may justly apply the same reflection to 
 several other very afflictive circumstances of his 
 life, and particularly to the most perverse and un- 
 just opposition which he met with from those 
 factious teachers, especially of the circumcision, 
 ■who gave so much disturbance to him and the 
 churches. The attack which they made upon his 
 character and interest at Corinth, laid him under a 
 necessity of saying many things which he would 
 have gladly omitted, and of mentioning some cir- 
 cumstances in his history, which had otherwise per- 
 haps remained unknown, at least could never have 
 appeared with etjual evidence and spirit. While 
 he is engaged in his own vindication, and entering 
 into the particulars of his character and conduct, he 
 drops many very edifying expressions, which arc 
 worthy the most attentive regard both of ministers 
 and private Christians; of which the words I have 
 now been reading are none of the least consider- 
 able. He was obliged to say something which 
 might look like an encomium on himself, and 
 therefore chooses to speak in the name of all his 
 faithful brethren in the ministry, as well as his own. 
 Now after he had declared that they had renounced 
 the hidden things of dishonesty, (which were the 
 great mysteries of the heathen priesthood, and 
 probably the secret spring which actuated these 
 judaizing teachers,) not like them, walking in crafti- 
 ness, not handling the word of God deceitfully, or 
 
 * PrcaclicU at Wisbeacli, June 8, 1737, at the Ordination of Itie Rev. 
 William Johnston. 
 
 adulterating it with any foreign and corrupt mix- 
 tures ; but acting so constantly in the sight of God, 
 as to secure to themselves a secret testimony in the 
 consciences of all that intimately knew them, and 
 accurately observed them ; he adds. For we preach 
 not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord ; and our- 
 selves your servants for Jesus' sake.f O that 
 every Christian minister, who in succeeding ages 
 hath read these words, had been delivered into the 
 mould of them ! O that we whom God hath 
 honoured with this high and holy calling, may 
 make it our increasing care to form ourselves by 
 them ; and beholding as in a glass the beautiful 
 model, may be changed into the same image from 
 glory to glory ! 
 
 It will be my business in the process of my dis- 
 course from these words, 
 
 I. To illustrate the account which the apo.stle 
 here gives of his own conduct, and that of his 
 brethren in the Christian ministry. 
 
 II. To consider the principles on which we may 
 reasonably conclude they acted, and by which they 
 were influenced to it. 
 
 III. I shall close with some reflections on the 
 whole. 
 
 I choose to throw my Discourse into such a form, 
 as it will give me an opportunity of suggesting my 
 advice and exhortations to you, my dear and 
 reverend brother, who are this day giving yourself 
 up to this excellent work, in the most humble and 
 res|)ectful manner ; which I am now the more 
 solicitous to do, lest I should seem to dictate to 
 those from whom I shall always be ready, with 
 great pleasure and deference, to receive instruc- 
 tions. 
 
 I. I am to consider the account which the apostle 
 gives of his own conduct, and that of his brethren 
 in the Christian ministry : We preach not our- 
 selves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves 
 your servants for Jesus' sake. In which words he 
 
 + It seems evident to me, that »rr. 3 and 4 come in as a parenthesis. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 861 
 
 plainly declares, — that they did not make them- 
 selves the chief end of their ministry, but faithfully 
 devoted it to the service of Christ as the great Lord, 
 whom they endeavoured to serve by all the most 
 bumble and aflTectionate condescensions to those 
 that were committed to their ministerial care. 
 
 1. The apostles did not make themselves the 
 chief end of their ministry. 
 
 We, saj s St. Paul, preach not ourselves. It is to 
 be feared that some did so even in these early days, 
 for the antichristiau spirit began to work betimes ; 
 so that it gave Paul reason to say, that they 
 served not Christ Jesus, but their own belly, while 
 they preached him out of contention rather than 
 love, supposing to add addition to his bonds ; in- 
 somuch that he complains of it as a general, tliougli, 
 blessed be God, not a universal, character, all seek- 
 ing their own things, not the things which are Jesus 
 Christ's. But this was far from being the character 
 of the apostle, or any faithful disciple of Christ; 
 who must have learnt, in some measure, that essen- 
 tial branch of the Christian character, to deny him- 
 self, and taking up even his cross to follow his 
 Master to crucifixion itself, should he lead him on 
 in that painful and dangerous way. 
 
 It may be worth our while more particularly to 
 observe, that these good men did not seek their own 
 applause, their own interest, or their own power 
 and authority, as the chief end of undertaking and 
 prosecuting the ministry ; for each of these particu- 
 lars must be included in this general expression. 
 We preach not ourselves ; and it will be our wisdom 
 to regard each. 
 
 These primitive ministers did not, in preaching 
 the gospel, aim at their own applause and reputa- 
 tion. 
 
 The greatest men.amongst the heathens did it, and 
 avowed it ; they reckoned the love of fame amongst 
 the noblest of pa.ssions, and the pursuit of it ap- 
 peared a mark of the most generous mind. But 
 Christian apostles had higher views. They con- 
 sidered themselves as in the presence of God, and 
 had the truly great ambition of being accepted of 
 him, and then human applause and admiration dis- 
 appeared as less than nothing. It is, says good St. 
 Paul, a very small thing to me, the smallest matter 
 one can imagine,* to be judged of man's judgment ; 
 for he that judgeth me is the Lord. On this prin- 
 ciple we find, that when he came to Corinth, 
 though it were so learned and polite a city, he did 
 not aflect to come with the excellency or loftiness 
 of speech, and the persuasive words of man's wis- 
 dom ; he did not labour for the cxactest forms of 
 expression, nor study to compose and deliver his 
 discourses in such a manner as might most easily 
 have gained him the reputation of an exact orator, 
 so that people should point after him as he passed 
 
 • EAax<5c.i', I Cor. iv. 3. 
 
 through the streets, and say, That is Paul ! a little 
 circumstance with which poor Demosthenes was so 
 highly delighted ; but he contented himself with 
 preaching the plain things of the gospel, in a plain 
 and serious, a rational and unaffected, manner, 
 whether men would hear, or whether they would 
 forbear. And indeed, he was rather on his guard 
 against too pompous and florid a style, lest it 
 should seem that a man who was so studious to 
 adorn the doctrines of the gospel, did not thorough- 
 ly believe them ; and so the cross of Christ should 
 have become of none effect, when an apostle seemed 
 so little penetrated with the argument drawn from 
 it, as to be at leisure for trifles. 
 
 Such a turn of mind we may easily perceive in 
 his epistles. They appear to be written out of the 
 fulness of his soul, but without any anxiety about 
 the style, or any very exact care even to range the 
 ideas according to the most methodical order ; 
 abounding everywhere with a great many lively and 
 beautiful digressions, that often run into each other 
 in a manner which the strictest rules of polite writ- 
 ing will hardly allow. In a word, we eminently 
 see in St. Paul, perhaps beyond any other writer in 
 the world, a good man bringing out of the good 
 treasure of his heart good things, with a kind of 
 magnificent negligence. His works are like a wil- 
 derness of beautiful and fragrant plants, springing 
 up promiscuously out of a happy soil ; and amidst 
 all their seeming confusion, producing, to a natural 
 taste, a liner ellect than if they were drawn out with 
 a solicitous care, set in the most regular figures, 
 and cut into a thousand artificial forms. 
 
 Again, the apostles, and their fellow-labourers in 
 the gospel ministry, were not governed by a view to 
 the possessions of the present life. 
 
 These holy men abhorred the very thought of 
 making the church of Christ a kind of porch to the 
 temple of Mammon. The circumstances in which 
 they undertook their work, were such as could leave 
 no room to suspect that they sought it only as a 
 gainful trade. On the contrary, at tlieir very first 
 selting out in it, they left all, that they might fol- 
 low their Master. And though it nuiy be objected 
 with regard to some of them , that their all was little, 
 yet they had at least food and raiment, and a habi- 
 tation which they could call their own ; whereas, 
 when they devoted tiiemselves to the ministry of 
 the gospel, one of tlicm could say in the name of 
 the rest. Even to this day we are hungry and naked, 
 and have no certain dwelling-place. And this was 
 St. Paul, who seems to have resigned very great 
 prospects, which his liberal education, his remark- 
 able proficiency and zeal in the Jewish religion, 
 and the degree of favour which he had even in his 
 younger days with the greatest men of his nation, 
 might fairly have given him. But those things, 
 which were before gain to him, he counted loss for 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 Clirist ; and wlicn he had once devoted hiniselt' to 
 his service, his actions as well as his words plainly 
 showed, tiiat he was crucilied to the world by the 
 cross of his Redeemer. He could therefore appeal 
 to the Corinthians, that his conduct had proved he 
 souicht not theirs, but them ; and when writing to 
 the Thessalonians, could make an appeal to God 
 himself, that he had never used a cloak of covetous- 
 ncss. Nay, when leaving the Ephesians, amongst 
 whom he had made so long an abode, that his real 
 temper must have been discovered, he could assure 
 them, and they themselves could testify the truth of 
 it, that he had been so far from coveting any man's 
 silver, or gold, or apparel, that his own hand had 
 ministered to his necessities ; and that, in order to 
 prevent his being burthensome to them, even for 
 the necessaries of life, he had sometimes added the 
 labour of the night to that of the day. 
 
 Nor did these holy men arrogate to themselves 
 any secular power, or pretend to any authority, over 
 the civil liberties of mankind. 
 
 Grotius supposes this to be the direct and prin- 
 cipal meaning of the text ; We preach not ourselves 
 as lords, but proclaim Christ Jesus alone under 
 that character. And this, undoubtedly, is included 
 in the phrase, though I can see no imaginable reason 
 for such a limitation as he would lay upon it. 
 These primitive pastors of the church, according to 
 that excellent advice of St. Peter, (so peculiarly 
 forgotten by those who have contended for the 
 honour of being his only successors,) did not behave 
 as lords over God's heritage ;* and though they 
 insisted upon it, that what they wrote by a divine 
 revelation and direction, should be received as the 
 commandment of Christ, yet Paul himself expressly 
 renounces all claim to a dominion over men's faith ; 
 thereby confessing himself not to be the master of 
 the family, but merely a servant in it, who desired 
 to be regarded by them no further than he could 
 prove that he spake in a greater name than his 
 own. Let a man, says he, so esteem of us as minis- 
 ters of Clirist, and stewards of the mysteries of 
 God, of whom the great thing required is, that we 
 be found faithful to him whose commission we 
 bear. Nor did they ever pretend that this extraor- 
 dinary character of messengers from heaven gave 
 them any claim to secular power on earth ; they 
 assumed no authority in temporals in order to spi- 
 rituals ; and they were not penetrating enough to 
 understand the doctrine of the two swords, with 
 which many liave since been so fond of meddling, 
 I fear to their own wounding, as well as to the dis- 
 honour of the Christian name, and the destruction 
 of many of their fellow-creatures. The weapons of 
 the apostle's warfare were not carnal, but spiritual, 
 
 ♦ Dr. I.ntlium'a elegant and judicious discourse on this clause of my 
 text, at the Ordination of Messieurs Grciiory and Dodge, will abun- 
 dantly supply llie deficiency of these brief remarks of mine upon it ; 
 and thither I do with great pleasure refer the reader. 
 
 as it was necessary they should be, in order to the 
 bringing every thought into subjection to the law of 
 Christ.f Which leads me to pass on from this 
 negative part of their character, to observe, that, as 
 they did not preach themselves, so as to make their 
 own reputation, or interest, or dominion, the end of 
 their labours ; so, 
 
 2. They faitiifully devoted their ministry to the 
 service of Christ. 
 
 We preach Christ Jesus the Lord ; which plainly 
 intimates, that they made Christ the great object of 
 their preaching, and that they endeavoured to 
 speak of him in such a manner as to promote his 
 empire over the hearts and consciences of men. 
 
 They made Christ the great subject of their 
 preaching. 
 
 So they declare. We preach Christ crucified, 
 though to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the 
 Greeks foolishness. At Corinth, in particular, 
 curious as it was, the apostle declares, I deter- 
 mined to know, i. e. to make known, and insist 
 upon, nothing among you save Jesus Christ, even 
 that crucified person ; with whatever scorn and 
 contempt such a subject might be treated. And 
 therefore it is observable, that preaching Christ is 
 sometimes used as a comprehensive expression for 
 all that the apostles taught. Not that Paul or his 
 brethren neglected the great doctrines of natural 
 religion, which are so evidently the foundation of 
 the gospel itself, that it is perfect madness to pour 
 contempt upon them. We might in reason con- 
 clude, as we find it to have been fact, that, when 
 tliey came amongst Gentile and idolatrous nations, 
 they began with asserting the being and attributes 
 of the only true God, the universality of his provi- 
 dence, and that certainty of a state of future retri- 
 bution, which is so naturally connected with it. All 
 this they taught ; but they did not stop here, for 
 they well knew, that it was their duty to make these 
 things the plan on which to raise that glorious su- 
 perstructure which Christianity hath built upon 
 them. They served God with their spirit in the 
 gospel of his Son, and therefore proclaimed the 
 glory of the Father, as reflected from the face of 
 Christ Jesus the Lord. 
 
 They established the truth of his deity, the mys- 
 tery of his incarnation, the necessity of his atone- 
 ment, the perfection of his righteousness, the riches 
 of his grace. They described him as living on earth 
 an example of universal goodness, as dying on the 
 cross a sacrifice for sin, as rising from the dead, and 
 a.sccnding into heaven, and as reigning there the 
 Lord of universal nature, and head over all to the 
 church. You cannot but know, that these are their 
 darling topics, on which they most copiously insist, 
 in their sermons and writings which are transmitted 
 to us : and if St. Paul at Athens .seems to touch 
 
 + Ka( Turov c^ttvfKonevoff^ Cor. x. 4, 5. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 863 
 
 more sparingly than usual on tbese important doc- 
 trines, it is to be considered, that we have only the 
 beginning of a discourse, in which the rudeness of 
 the philosophers interrupted him, before he could 
 proceed to open and establish those doctrines which 
 were peculiar to his character as an ambassador of 
 Jesus, And I am persuaded, that whoever impar- 
 tially peruses the epistles of that great apostle, and 
 observes not only his direct arguments, but his 
 lively and pathetic digressions on this glorious sub- 
 ject, when it comes in his way, will not only see 
 that Paul was delighted with it, but will himself be 
 disposed to wish that every Christian minister may 
 copy after this great original. Especially when it 
 is considered, 
 
 That he and his brethren preached Christ in such 
 a manner, as might most effectually establish his 
 empire over the hearts and consciences of men. 
 
 We preach Christ Jesus the Lord, i. e. we preach 
 him under the character of the great Lord, the ruler 
 and governor of his church. They very well knew, 
 that the design of Christianity was not merely to 
 amuse the world, but to reform "it ; and that its 
 sqblimest speculations were received and admitted 
 in vain, if the life were not regulated, and the heart 
 subdued, by the gospel. Therefore do they on all 
 occasions inculcate it, that God had exalted Christ 
 to be a Prince as well as a Saviour ; had ordained, 
 and even sworn, in his holiness, that every knee 
 should bow unto him. These good men did not 
 think it enough to declare the grace of the gospel, 
 and then leave it to the Spirit of God, by his own 
 immediate agency, to draw the proper consequences 
 relating to duty ; but they expressly draw those 
 consequences themselves, and enter into a very 
 large and particular detail of those duties. They 
 insist upon it with great spirit and earnestness, as a 
 faithful saying, that those who have believed in 
 God should be careful to maintain good works, and 
 direct succeeding ministers to affirm it constantly. 
 They declared, that it was the very purpose for 
 which the saving grace of God had appeared unto 
 all men, to teach them to deny ungodliness and 
 worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and 
 godly. They urge Christians therefore to yield 
 themselves to God, as alive from the dead, and to 
 employ their members as instruments of righteous- 
 ness. Beseeching them by the mercies of God, to 
 present their bodies as living sacrifices, holy and 
 acceptable to God, which was indeed their most 
 I reasonable service. Nor <lid they tliink it beneath 
 i the honour of theevangelical ministry, sometimes to 
 I insist on arguments taken from the terrors of the law. 
 I Knowing tliosc terrors, they laboured to persuade 
 men by them ; they alTectionatciy warned them, 
 that the ground which under divine cultivation 
 brought forth nothing but briers and thorns, was 
 nigh unto cursing, and its end was to be burned ; 
 
 that to those who did not obey the gospel of Jesus 
 Christ, there remained a certain fearful expecta- 
 tion of wrath, and fiery indignation, which should 
 devour them ; yea, that they should be punished 
 with everlasting destruction, from the presence of 
 the Lord, and from the glory of his power. This 
 was the apostolic nietliod of preaching Christ ; so 
 warning every man, and teaching every man, as 
 that they might, through the divine blessing, most 
 probably hope to present every man perfect in 
 Christ ; that having their fruit unto holiness, their 
 end might be everlcisting life. 
 
 You see I have generally expressed these things 
 in Scripture language, that the illustration and 
 proof might advance together. And if we desire to 
 approve ourselves faithful in the same cause, we 
 must conduct our ministration thus, and must also 
 imitate these good men in the third particular of 
 their conduct, which alone now remains to be con- 
 sidered from these words ; which is, 
 
 3. That they endeavoured to serve their great 
 Master, by the most humble and affectionate con- 
 descension to those that were committed to their 
 care. 
 
 So far were they from lording it over their bre- 
 thren, that according to the example and command 
 of Christ himself, they owned themselves the serv- 
 ants of all : nor was it merely an empty compli- 
 ment, for their actions spoke it as well as their 
 words ; they exercised great humility and con- 
 descension towards all, and they did it for Jesus' 
 sake. 
 
 They exercised great humility and condescension 
 towards all their brethren, not excepting even the 
 meanest of them. 
 
 To this Paul frequently exhorts others: Mind 
 not high things, but condescend to men of low 
 estate. In love serve and be subject to one another, 
 and let each esteem others better than himself. 
 Thus he advised, and thus he acted ; and his 
 brethren, no doubt, behaved like him. They well 
 knew their calling as Christians, and |)lainly saw, 
 that not many mighty, not many noble, were called, 
 but that God had chosen the weak things of the 
 world to confound the mighty ; that he had ciiosen 
 the poor in this world, rich in faith, and heirs of a 
 kingdom of eternal glory. And if God would stoop 
 thus low, they were cordially willing to do it. They 
 could discern a dignity in a cliild of God, and an 
 heir of glory, which shone through all their poverty 
 and meanness in their dress, and outward apj)ear- 
 ance ; inconsiderable circumstances, which could 
 not prevent these holy men from honouring them 
 that feared the Lord, though they might want some 
 of those decorations which the vilest of mankind 
 may wear, and perhaps to their greater infamy. 
 
 St. Paul wa.s a memorable instance of this ami- 
 able temper: though by his education fit for higher 
 
8G4 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 company, and from liis early years accustomed to 
 it, be (lid not disdain the meanest of tlie people, and 
 was not only easy of access to them, but visited 
 them at their own dwellings, and carried bis in- 
 structions and consolations from bouse to house, 
 even to those where he could expect no entertain- 
 ment, but such as arose from rolij^ious converse, 
 society in worship, and a consciousness of being 
 useful to the souls of men. And it is worthy of our 
 notice, that in subserviency to tiiis great design, 
 this holy man was a very afTectionale friend to their 
 temporal interests ; and that to such a degree, as to 
 be far from imagining that be had done bis part, 
 when be bad exhorted his bearers to contribute 
 liberally to the supply of their indigent brethren. 
 Most instructive in this view is the address be makes 
 to the presbyters or bishops of the church of Eplic- 
 sus ; in which, appealing to them, that they tliem- 
 selves knew that his own hands had ministered to 
 his necessities, and those that were with Iiim, he 
 adds, I have showed you, that so labouring, you 
 ought to support the weak : and to remember the 
 words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more 
 blessed to give than to receive. 
 
 The same true greatness of soul which engaged 
 him cheerfully to contribute out of bis small stock, 
 for the relief of those that were yet more necessitous 
 than himself, disposed him with great condescension 
 and tenderness to bear the infirmities of bis people, 
 and in many instances to sacrifice his own taste and 
 humour to theirs. Who was weak, and he was not 
 weak ? Who was offended, and he did not burn 
 with desire to remove the offence? When bis con- 
 verts behave with too much of the peevishness and 
 perverseness of children, he did not haughtily chas- 
 tise them, but rather chose tenderly to expostulate 
 with them, and if possible to love them out of their 
 follies. He put on not only the bowels of a father, 
 but the indulgence of a nurse towards them : We 
 were, says he, gentle amongst you, even as a nurse 
 chcrisbeth her children, and ready to have imparted 
 to you, not only the gospel of Christ, but our own 
 souls or lives also, i. e. to have died, as we lived, 
 for your service, because you were singularly dear 
 to us. 
 
 This was the governing temper of St. Paul, and 
 it carried him through some circumstances which 
 required great and resolute self-denial ; he became 
 all things to all men, if by any means be might gain 
 some sincere converts to the gospel. And in par- 
 ticular, to the Jews be became as a Jew, that he 
 might gain them ; j. e. he voluntarily laid himself 
 under all the restraints of tlie Mosaic law, though 
 he knew it was now abolished, that he might as a 
 Christian apostle convert the Jews. And this he 
 carries so far, as to declare bis readiness, not only 
 to forbear those kinds of food which the law of 
 Moses pronounceth unclean, but to give up all ani- 
 
 mal diet, and subsist entirely on vegetables, rather 
 than be would grieve and ollcnd his brethren, i. e. 
 the feeblest Christian. If meat, says lie, make my 
 brother to ollend, 1 will eat no flesh while the world 
 standeth. Thus, though the apostles were free 
 from all, they nevertheless voluntarily became the 
 servants of all, and indeed condescended to do 
 and forbear many things, because disagreeable to 
 their Christian brethren, which few hired servants 
 would have done or forborne out of regard to those 
 who were properly their masters. But let us not 
 fail to remember that 
 
 They did all this for tlie sake of Christ and his 
 gospel. 
 
 Ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake. It is 
 certain, that such condescensions as we have been 
 describing, are either great or mean, according to 
 the principle from whence they proceed. Ambition 
 can creep, that it may soar; aiul soothe, that it may 
 afterwards insult : but the apostles stooped, that 
 they might raise others ; and pleased, that they 
 might profit. We, says St. Paul, please all men 
 to their good for their edification. This was their 
 great concern, that whether they ate or drank, or 
 whatever they did, they might do all to the glory of 
 God. This was their earnest expectation and their 
 hope, that in all things Christ might be glorified in 
 them, whetlier by their life or their death. They 
 sacrificed not only their humour and their ease, 
 but life itself, to the great purposes of pleasing and 
 serving the blessed Jesus ; and Paul spake the 
 sentiments of them all, when be said, Neither bonds 
 nor imprisonments move me ; nor do I count ray 
 life dear unto me, that I may finish my course with 
 joy, and the ministry I have received of the Lord. 
 But while I insist on such expressions as these, I 
 do in part anticipate what I am to offer under the 
 second head. Where I proposed, 
 
 II. To consider what were the principles by 
 which they were animated to so noble a temper 
 and conduct. 
 
 I the rather enter into the survey of them, as we 
 shall find they were not only suited to the age and 
 circumstances of the apostles, but ought also to 
 have a very great influence upon us, whom God 
 has favoured so far as to count us faithful, putting 
 us into something of the same ministry with them, 
 which can never be comfortably and honourably 
 fulfilled, but by those who govern themselves by 
 the like maxims and principles. They were un- 
 doubtedly influenced by an affectionate love to the 
 blessed Redeemer, a pious zeal for the glory of 
 God in the salvation of souls, and a prudent regard 
 to their own present and future happiness. And if 
 these great motives have their due weight with us, 
 we shall not preach ourselves, but Christ Jesus the 
 Lord, and ourselves the servants of bis people for 
 his sake. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 865 
 
 1. The apostles were engaged to the conduct we 
 have described, by a most grateful aflfection to the 
 blessed Redeemer. 
 
 That dear name is precious to every believing 
 soul, and how precious it was to these holy men, 
 almost every page of their writings will declare. 
 Divine grace had deeply humbled them under the 
 conviction of their own guilt and weakness, and 
 then taught them to view the Lord Jesus Christ as 
 made of God unto them wisdom and righteousness, 
 sanctification and redemption. They knew the 
 grace of the Son of God in descending, and living, 
 and dying for their salvation ; and in passing 
 through all the most dreadful scenes of suffering 
 which imagination can suggest, with a love to them, 
 which all those waters could not quench, nor the 
 floods drown. And believing this, they could not 
 but speak in his cause, they could not but desire 
 to spend and be spent in his service. On this prin- 
 ciple therefore doth Paul vindicate those ardours 
 of zeal, which a profane world censured as enthu- 
 siasm and madness. If we are beside ourself, it is 
 to God, for the love of Christ constraineth us while 
 we thus judge, and approve the argument in the 
 coolest moments of reflection, that if one died for 
 all, then were all dead ; for had they not been in a 
 state of condemnation and death, they would not 
 have needed such a ransom. And he died, that we, 
 who live only in consequence of his dying love, 
 should not henceforth live to ourselves, but to him 
 that died for us, and rose again. And we may 
 assure ourselves, that while their souls were thus 
 drawn with the cords of a man, and the bands of 
 love, they saw a peculiar beauty in the condescen- 
 sions of so great a personage and so dear a friend, 
 which inclined them with pleasure to trace his 
 steps, in making themselves the servants of others 
 for his sake, who took upon him the form of a ser- 
 vant, though he were Lord of all. 
 
 And ought not these considerations, my brethren, 
 to have a constraining force upon us ? Wa.s it for 
 the sake of the apostles alone, that the blessed 
 .lesus stooped so low, and bore so much ? Did he 
 not love us, and give himself for us, and was not 
 the news of our salvation contained in those glad 
 tidings which he brought from heaven, which he 
 proclaimed on earth, publishing them with long- 
 continued labour, and at length sealing them with 
 his blood ? Have not we our lot amongst his people ? 
 nay, I will add, are we not distinguished from most 
 of the rest of them, by his favour, in that he hath 
 committed to our trust his glorious gospel, the 
 I important cause that lay so near his heart, the great 
 I end of his toils and his sufferings? And where is 
 our gratitude, where is our fidelity, where is our 
 common integrity, if we can forget such engage- 
 ments, and lose our concern for that gospel, in a 
 mean solicitude about our own applause, or interest, 
 3 K 
 
 or dominion? I trust, my brethren, it will never so 
 be lost. I am persuaded, through divine grace, 
 there are those amongst us, whose bosoms glow 
 with such undissembled love, that we can truly say, 
 we reckon the title of servants of Christ, and of the 
 church for his sake, a thousand times more honour- 
 able than to be called, and to be, the lords of the 
 whole world ; tliat we had rather approve our- 
 selves the faithful interpreters of his laws, than see 
 assembled nations bowing down before us, and 
 with the profoundest submission receiving law at 
 our mouths. 
 
 2. The apostles were animated to the conduct we 
 have been reviewing, by a pious zeal for the glory 
 of God in the salvation of souls. 
 
 They well knew, that the grace of the Father was 
 the original source of all the blessings they received 
 by the interposition of the Son, and their hearts 
 were so subjected and united to God, that they 
 could not fail of being tenderly concerned, that ' 
 being bought with such a price, and maintained by 
 such a constant emanation of divine favour and 
 bounty, they might glorify God with their bodies 
 and their spirit, which they owned to be the Lord's, 
 by so many important claims. 
 
 And they must further infer from the complete 
 all-sufiicicncy of the divine Being, that the only 
 way whereby we are capable of glorifying him, is by 
 promoting the display of his attributes; which are 
 most nobly illustrated in the perfection and happi- 
 ness of his rational creatures ; especially their final 
 and eternal happiness. It plainly appears from the 
 whole strain of the apostles' writings, that those 
 iioly men were deeply penetrated with the views of 
 an invisible world : and as it was their great con- 
 cern for themselves, that their own souls might be 
 given them for a prey ; so sentiments of compassion 
 and humanity, joined with those of piety, to engage 
 them to wish and labour the salvation of others. 
 
 Tliey certainly knew, however others might forget 
 it, that every human creature hath in its breast an 
 immortal soul, which must survive not only the dis- 
 solution of the body, but the wreck of this lower 
 world ; a soul that, by its original constitution, was 
 capable of shining in the image of Ood, and the 
 glories of paradise, when the sun should be turned * 
 into darkness, and the moon into blood. They 
 were likewise sensible that these precious souls 
 were naturally in a very dangerous stafe, and by 
 sin stood exposed to everlasting darkness, despair, 
 and ruin. And this appeared to them such a la- 
 mentable sight, that they could not but weep over 
 tliose whose end would so probably be destruction. 
 And when they saw them going on in a gay insen- 
 sibility of danger, and a proud confidence, on the 
 very borders of hell, it cut them to the heart, and 
 put an eagerness and pathos into the manner of 
 their address, which nothing but such an infinite 
 
8GG 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 coiiccin could have given. Tliey were attempting 
 to recover those out of the snare of tlie (le\ il, 
 were led eaptivcs by liiiu at liis pleasure ; to turn 
 men from darkness to lig,ht, and from the power of 
 Satan unto God, that instead of meeting all tiie 
 terrors of his wrath, and sinking into eternal de- 
 struction, they miglit receive the forgiveness of tljeir 
 sins, and an inheritance amongst liis sanctified 
 people. And while this was the view in which 
 they regarded tliem, who can wonder that they did, 
 as it were, travail in birth for their conversion .' 
 Who can wonder if it appeared to them even an 
 inhuman thing, to be more solicitous about sooth- 
 ing men's cars, or gaining an inlluenee over men's 
 temporal concerns, than saving their souls? As it 
 would indeed be a more cruel kind of folly, tlian 
 for a physician to be more careful that his bill 
 were elegantly written, than that the life of his 
 patient should be saved by tlie suitableness of the 
 prescription. 
 
 I must further add, in order to complete the 
 argument, that the apostles well knew, that nothing 
 was so likely to save the perishing souls of men, as 
 the great doctrines of the everlasting gospel ; no- 
 thing so like to recover them, when fainting and 
 dying, as tl)e vital savour of a Redeemer's name ; 
 which is indeed the power of God to the salvation 
 of every one that belicvetli. This engaged them, 
 in this manner, to preach Christ Jesus the Lord ; 
 and I hope, my brethren, we shall never imagine, 
 that our wisdom can find out another more efl'ectual 
 way. I hope we shall never practise so dangerous 
 a complaisance to the unbelievers of the present 
 age, as to wave the gospel, that we may accommo- 
 date ourselves to their taste; which if we do, we 
 may indeed preserve the name of virtue, but I fear 
 we shall destroy the thing itself; lose it in our con- 
 gregations, and probably in our hearts too. For, I 
 confess, it seems to me ranch more probable, that 
 the doctrines of natural religion alone should be 
 blessed as the means of reforming heathens, who 
 never heard of Christianity, than that they should 
 have much effect upon those who, under the pro- 
 fession of it, slight its most glorious peculiarities ; 
 as if the revelation of Jesus were a mere encum- 
 brance, which, wliile we own it to be true, we might 
 nevertheless forget, without great danger, or much 
 inconvenience. But if we imbibe the spirit of the 
 apostles, and make their conduct the model of ours, 
 we may cheerfully expect that presence of God 
 with us, in consequence of which the great ends of 
 our ministry may be answered, to the reformation 
 of men's lives, and the salvation of their souls. 
 
 How glorious a hope ! how rich a rccompence for 
 all the fatigue, for all the condescension, for all the 
 self-denial, which our oflice may require ! Most 
 forcibly doth St. James express tlie importance of 
 tlie thought, if one man be the happy instrument of 
 
 gaining another to the cause of truth and holiness, 
 let him know, let him pause upon it and redcct, 
 that he who converteth a sinner from the error of 
 his ways, shall save a soul from death, an immortal 
 soul ! And how much is comprehended in those 
 few words? We are sometimes perhaps ready to 
 envy the opportunity which the great men of the 
 world have to promote the happiness of others, and 
 it is the most generous, and indeed tlie only rational, 
 view in which riches and power can be desired. 
 But let us remember, my brethren, such is the 
 nature of an immortal soul, that to bring it into the 
 way to eternal life, is a greater good than any 
 merely temporal blessing, which can be conferred 
 upon the greatest number of men for the longest 
 duration in the present world. And it is most cer- 
 tain, that the moment will at length come, when 
 the sum of happiness which hath actually been 
 enjoyed by every particular soul, that we have led 
 into that blessed world, will be greater than what 
 the most uninterrupted peace, liberty, and plenty 
 could have given to the most numerous nations, in 
 a hundred, or a thousand, or ten thousand years. 
 Let so sublime a thought animate our pursuit, and 
 make us willing to spend and be spent iu such a 
 service. 
 
 3. The apostles well knew, that by such a con- 
 duet as we have now been surveying, their own 
 present and future happiness would be most effect- 
 ually secured. 
 
 They seemed indeed to sacrifice their present 
 interest, and in many important instances they did 
 so ; yet surely they found a rich equivalent in the 
 consciousness of such a temper, and a prospect of 
 that reward which would through grace attend it. 
 
 The pleasures of gratitude and humanity, are a 
 thousand times superior to tliat which can arise 
 from gratifying the senses, or even from improve- 
 ments in science. I hope all that hear mo this day, 
 know the delight of serving a friend whom we highly 
 esteem and love ; many of us, I question not, do 
 particularly know how agreeable it is to find some 
 opportunity of expressing our cordial sense of those 
 favours, which it is impossible for us fully to repay. 
 Let us judge by that, how delightful it must be to 
 these good men, when their hearts were full of the 
 most lively and penetrating sense of a Redeemer's 
 love, to see themselves in such a situation, as that 
 their whole lives should be spent in .serving his 
 interest, and every day of them should do some- 
 thing to promote it. 
 
 And the influence which their labours had upon 
 the happiness of mankind, must also add a most de- 
 lightful relish to them. Our nature is so constituted 
 by the wise and gracious Author of it, that some 
 degrees of pleasure inseparably attend every at- 
 tempt for the real improvement of any part of his 
 creation, even the meanest. It is pleasant to view 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 867 
 
 a spot of ground, whicli from a barren and useless 
 wild has been manured and cultivated, planted and 
 adorned, by human industry, so that it is reduced to 
 a fruitful garden or field ; and he who hath labour- 
 ed to effect it, reviews it with double satisfaction. It 
 is much more delightful to have been instrumental 
 in forming and cultivating the mind, and reducing 
 those who were once little better than savages to 
 discipline and arts, to the improvements and ele- 
 gances of life, whereby they may as it were be 
 broken into men ; but surely the apostles must with 
 incomparably greater satisfaction look round about 
 them, and see whole regions enlightened by the rays 
 which they had diffused ; thousands of their fellow- 
 creatures recovered from darkness and ignorance, 
 superstition and vice, and formed to wise, regular, 
 noble sentiments, subjected to God, united to Christ, 
 and conducted into the ways of peace and life by 
 their means. Accordingly, I doubt not but you 
 have often observed in how sublime and pathetic a 
 manner St. Paul expresseth himself on this occa- 
 sion, in the name of his brethren as well as in his 
 own, in the progress of this epistle. We approve 
 ourselves, says he, the ministers of God, in all the 
 various circumstances through which we pass, in 
 honour and dishonour, treated indeed by the world 
 as deceivers, yet conscious to ourselves that we are 
 true, and the great patrons of truth ; as obscure 
 and unknown to a proud and insolent world, who 
 affect to overlook us with sovereign contempt, yet 
 well known, even by the happiest tokens, to those 
 blessed souls who are brought home to God by our 
 means ; as dying daily, yet behold we live, through 
 the singular interposition of our great Lord for our 
 preservation ; as sorrowful on account of various 
 calamities that surround us, and yet in spirit always 
 rejoicing, because though we appear in the world 
 as poor in these things, yet we are making rich in 
 grace and glory. Blessed leaders in the army of 
 Christ ! who would not emulate such a character 
 and state? Who would not wish for your hard- 
 ships and trials, might his supports and success be 
 proportionable to yours? Such were the pleasures 
 they found in preaching Christ .Jesus the Lord ; 
 and undoubtedly their generous minds delighted to 
 do it in the condescending manner we have de- 
 scribed. To converse with their flock in such a free, 
 easy, obliging way, as their brethren, as their ser- 
 vants for .Jesus' sake, on the foot of equal and re- 
 spectful friendship, suited their taste and their 
 temper much better than all the homage, and all the 
 revenues, which secular power could have given, 
 and secular terror could have extorted. 
 
 I only add, in the conclusion of this head, that 
 the apostles were influenced to such a conduct by a 
 regard to their own eternal interest ; 
 
 That great important concern, which swallowed 
 op all others in their mind, and with which nothing 
 3 K 2 
 
 here seemed by any means worthy to be compared. 
 Paul himself did not think it unfit to reflect, and to 
 say, a necessity is laid upon me, and woe unto me 
 if I preach not the gospel. He well knew, that if 
 such vigilance was expected from a Jewish prophet, 
 that the souls who perished by his neglect should 
 be by God required at his hand, the danger of such 
 a neglect under the Christian dispensation, would 
 be yet greater in proportion to the clearer degree of 
 evidence with which life and immortality was 
 brought to light. He, therefore, and his associates 
 in this important work, made it their care, as him- 
 self expresseth it, to watch for souls as those that 
 must give an account, and were exceedingly solicit- 
 ous, that they might do it with joy and not with 
 grief. They looked on their converts as those who 
 should be their crown and rejoicing in the day of 
 the Lord, and their delightful companions in the 
 glories of the heavenly world. And when, con- 
 scious that through the divine assistance they had 
 fought the good fight, and finished their course, and 
 kept their fidelity, they were humbly bold to look 
 forward with cheerful expectation, as well as desire, 
 to that crown of life which the Lord had laid up for 
 all his faithful servants, that love his appearance. 
 Such may our hopes be, my fathers and brethren, 
 and such our triumphs in the near views of death 
 and eternity. Our days are passing away apace, 
 and no secular powers or advantages can prolong 
 fhcm ; nay, perhaps, were we in the number of the 
 richest and greatest of those that call themselves 
 the ministers of Christ, life might run out only so 
 much the sooner, while on the one hand, the baits 
 of luxury, and on the other, the cries of the op- 
 pressed, might concur to shorten it. When this 
 scene of vanity is closing, when we arc to exchange 
 every ornament for the dress of death, and all the 
 amusements and cares of mortality, for the solem- 
 nities of the eternal state ; in that awful hour, I say, 
 it will be no grief of heart to us, that wc have 
 chosen in all humility to serve Christ and the souls 
 of men, rather than to make our names great, and 
 our families wealthy. And when wc come to appear 
 in the presence of that great Redeemer, who hath 
 been witness to all our conduct, and all our designs, 
 we shall really find that we have lost nothing by 
 whatever wc have sacrificed to his cause and in- 
 terest. The applause of thousands is but an empty 
 sound when compared with that of Well done, 
 good and faithful servant ; and all the honours 
 and possessions which the greatest princes could 
 bestow, would be lighter than vanity, when laid in 
 the balance with that unfading crown of glory, 
 which every faithful minister may expect, when 
 Christ the chief Shepherd shall appear. 
 
 I have dilated so much on these pleasant and 
 copious topics, that I have hardly left myself time, 
 
 III. So much as to mention the reflections which 
 
*68 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 may natuiullY arise from wliat wo have been hear- 
 ing. You will easily apprehend they arc sueh a.s 
 these : 
 
 How greatly is the truth of Christianity con- 
 firmed by the character of those who were first 
 employed in the publication of it ; who pave the 
 "rrcatest evidence that can possibly be imaj^ined of 
 their l)cin{!; entirely devoted to the sacred cause of 
 Irutli and piety, and expressed, as we have heard, 
 the most disinterested and self-denying zeal in the 
 service of both. 
 
 How happy is it for the Christian cause, that 
 these original monuments are still preserved, and 
 that we are not left to form an idea of its ministers 
 merely from the general history of succeeding and 
 distant ages, or by the canons and decrees of the 
 greatest part of ecclesiastical councils; v^hich are 
 commonly drawn up with so different a spiiit, that, 
 were we to judge by them alone, charity would 
 have inclined us to hope, that those who called 
 themselves the chief successors of the apostles, had 
 never heard of the character of those holy men ; 
 but had rather formed their conduct, and even their 
 maxims too, I will not say by the Jewish, but by 
 the heathen, priesthood. 
 
 Nevertheless, let us bless God, that, in the iiiidst 
 of so general a depravation, there have been, in all 
 ages, and particularly in our own, a select remnant, 
 who have not defiled their garments, nor prostituted 
 their sacred character and office to those idols of 
 jealou.sy, which have been so shamefully erected, 
 even in the house of the Lord. Persons, so far as I 
 can judge, of all denominations, both of established 
 iuid separate churches, at home and abroad, who 
 have been, and are, in their respective spheres, 
 burning and shining lights ; men of God, who, 
 however differing in opinion, in discipline, or in 
 worship, have agreed to love the Lord Jesus Christ 
 in sincerity, to bow their hearts and souls to the 
 obedience of his laws, to value the souls committed 
 to their care, serving them in humility and love, 
 candidly excusing the frailties of their brethren, 
 praying, that wherein they were otherwise minded 
 than reason and Scripture directed, that God would, 
 in his own time and way, reveal it unto them ; and 
 in the mean time labouring, that whereunto they 
 had already attained, they miglit walk by the same 
 rule, and might mind the same thing. 
 
 Let us daily bow our knees in the most impor- 
 tunate supplications to the God of grace and of 
 peace, that this happy number may be increased ; 
 and as he is from time to time laying those in the 
 dust, who were once the joy of our assemblies, and 
 the glory of their profession, let us tenderly feel, 
 let us deeply lament, the desolations of his sanc- 
 tuary.* And let us earnestly pray, that he would 
 
 * N.B. This sermon was prcacjicd a few days after the death of that 
 great man of (iod, the truly reverend and excellent Mr. David Some of 
 
 raise up in all the churches a generation of faithful 
 and laborious, serious and spiritual, candid and 
 evangelical, ministers, that instead of the fathers 
 there may be the children, by means of whom a 
 people that are yet to be born may see the salvation 
 of our God in its genuine glories. 
 
 And this, in connexion with the subject before 
 us, might also lead us furtlier to reflect, how im- 
 portant a part of an education for the ministry it is, 
 to endeavour to lead young people into the know- 
 ledge of this Jesus, whom their ollice obligeth them 
 to preach and to serve. Polite literature is not by 
 any means to be neglected, nor will it be despised 
 by any but those who know not what it is, yet sure- 
 ly it is not the one thing needful. The Sacred 
 Scriptures are the grand magazine whence the most 
 important, and therefore I think by far the greatest 
 number, of academical lectures are to be drawn. 
 And they who are honoured with a charge of so 
 great importance to the churcli, should surely be 
 concerned, that those of the rising age, in whose 
 hands this invaluable treasure of the gospel is to be 
 deposited, may not rest in a cold speculative 
 acquaintance, either with the evidences or contents 
 of it ; but may feel its vital transforming power, 
 and speak of this great Redeemer as of one on whom 
 they have themselves believed, and whom their own 
 souls do most cordially love. 
 
 But I must wave the prosecution of these copious 
 reflections, to conclude with two which are yet more 
 immediately the concern of those who attend the 
 gospel ordinances ; and which I would particularly 
 recommend to you, my friends of this society, who 
 are now, through Divine Providence, so well settled 
 w ith a ^vorkman that needs not be ashamed, and one 
 whom you so highly and justly esteem. 
 
 Think how solicitous you should be to know and 
 acknowledge Christ Jesus as your Lord. 
 
 I know you think it your happiness often to hear 
 of him : O let it not be in vain. Own his authority 
 in your lives as well as your assemblies ; or those 
 who have most frequently preached him to you, will 
 be the swiftest and severest witnesses against you 
 in that dreadful day, when all that have not bowed 
 to his sceptre must fall by his sword. 
 
 And, to add no more, think also how willing you 
 should be to use the assistance of your ministers, as 
 your servants for Jesus' sake. 
 
 Do not neglect to attend on their ministrations, 
 and thereby shut out wisdom and piety at its first 
 
 H.irliorouf;!), whom God was pleased to favour with a serene and cheerful 
 exit, suiti-il to the eminent piety and usefulness of liis life. His dyinn 
 command hath silenced the attempt which some of his surviving friends 
 would gladly have made, to embalm his memory for the instruction of 
 those that are yet to come ; hut I am well satisfied, that, considcrinR how 
 very generally he was known, he has left a most honourable testimony 
 in the hi arts <il thousands, that be was one of the brightest ornaments 
 of the gospel and the ministry which the age hajh produced ; and that 
 all who had any intimacy with him, must have esteemed his friendship 
 amongst the greatest blessings of life, and the loss of him amongst its 
 greatest calamities. He died May 29, 1737, in his .Wth year ; and surely 
 I have never seen greater reason to cry out, My father, my fatlierl 
 the chariots of Israel, and the horsemen thereof. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 869 
 
 entrance. Do not increase their burthen by any 
 unkind usage, lest, by Aveakening their spirits, you 
 may injure yourselves, and disable them from doing 
 you that service, in which they are cheerfully 
 spending their lives, though perhaps they appre- 
 hend they are thereby shortening them. 
 
 And, once more, be not unwilling to use a proper 
 freedom with them in your religious concerns. 
 Officiously to pry into the secrets of families and 
 persons, is a meanness which a generous man will 
 scorn ; and particularly to know them is a burthen, 
 and often a snare too, which a wise man will gladly 
 decline : but some knowledge of your spiritual state 
 and experience is necessary to our knowing how to 
 
 address you, and to address God on your account. 
 Nor can you expect such suitable assistance from 
 your spiritual physicians, as might otherwise be 
 hoped for, if you will not communicate to them 
 some particulars of your complaints. 
 
 On the whole, my dearly beloved, fulfil you our 
 joy, and let it be your great care so to receive our 
 message, and so to improve it, that it may be the 
 delight of our souls now to proclaim the honours of 
 our Redeemer amongst you, as your servants for 
 Jesus' sake, and that the more tenderly we love 
 you, the more abundant satisfaction we may find in 
 our present labours, and our future account. Amen. 
 
 A CHARGE, 
 
 Delivered at St. Ives, Huntingdonshire, at (he Ordination of the lievcrend Mr. John 
 Jennings: on August \-2th, 17-1-2. 
 
 My dear friend and brother, 
 I DOUBT not but your own sagacity has prevented 
 me in observing, that the discourse we have been 
 just now hearing is in effect a charge, though with 
 great dexterity couched under the form of a popu- 
 lar address. Your general work has been well 
 represented to you, and you have been instructed 
 as to the authority by which you are to act in it, the 
 subject on which you are chiefly to insist, and the 
 end which you are to pursue. The particular offices 
 in which you are to endeavour to serve Christ, in 
 serving the souls of men, have also been happily 
 touched upon ; and the grand arguments which 
 should engage you to attend this service, with dili- 
 gence, resolution, and delight, have been power- 
 fully suggested. It would therefore be easy for me 
 to go over all the most natural branches of it, in an 
 application of it to you, by which I might well 
 answer the whole purpose of the province particu- 
 larly assigned to me, in the work of this day. But 
 lest by such a repetition I should seem unseason- 
 ably sparing of my own labour, as well as a .sense 
 of my inability to express these things in a more 
 agreeable manner than that in which they have 
 already been handled, I .shall now attempt a method 
 something different ; only observing, that the hints 
 lam now to address to you will appear with some 
 peculiar advantage, when considered in their con- 
 nexion with the preceding di.scourse. 
 
 I am willing to believe. Sir, that in consequence 
 of what my reverend brother has been laying before 
 
 you, your heart is now glowing with a vigorous yet 
 humble resolution, that, in the divine strength, jou 
 will emulate the character and conduct of the great 
 apostle, and will preach not yourself, but Christ 
 Jesus the Lord ; and that you will be ready to ap- 
 prove yourself the servant, the lowly, affectionate 
 servant, of the meanest of your brethren for his 
 sake. I will suppose your inquiry to be. How may 
 I serve this great Master in the most acceptable and 
 successful manner? How may I conduct myself, 
 so as another day to hear him saying to me, Well 
 done, thou good and faithful servant, enter into the 
 joy of thy Lord ? I know not how to answer such 
 an inquiry better, in a few words, than to remind 
 you of another lively and proper expression of the 
 same apostle St. Paul, when, speaking of tlie blessed 
 God, lie says, I serve him with my spirit in the 
 gospel of his Son. You serve God in the same 
 Gospel. — I hope it will indeed be the same. — God 
 forbid we should any of us introduce any other. 
 Labour therefore to do it with your spirit, with all 
 the united powers of your soul, and labour at all 
 times to keep your spirit in a proper situation for it. 
 
 For your assistance in this respect, I .shall make 
 it my present business to show you, as well as I 
 can, what must be the situation and temper of that 
 spirit, which would, in the happiest manner, serve 
 Christ in the great work you have this day under- 
 taken. This will give me an opportunity of sug- 
 gesting hints which will have their usw:, not in this 
 or that particular respect alone, but in every cir- 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 cunistancc lliiough wliii-li you pas.s, ami in every 
 serviee to wliicli you are called out, that the man of 
 God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished and pre- 
 pared to every work. Nor can I think of any thing 
 which appears to me a more proper supplement to 
 the many particular advices I have given you, with 
 respect to your business as a preacher and a pastor, 
 in those academical lectures on that subject which 
 you have heard from me, and the hints of which arc 
 still in your hand. Permit me now to remind you, 
 that tlipy come recommended to you by a very ma- 
 terial circumstance, as several important passages 
 in them were taken from the lectures of my honoured 
 tutor, your reverend and worthy father ; whose name 
 will long be precious in the churches, and my rela- 
 tion to whom I must always esteem as, under God, 
 one of the greatest blessings of my life. You will 
 no doubt frequently review them, and pardon me if 
 I say, you will in effect hear two fathers speaking 
 in them, with a united voice ; if the most endear- 
 ing afl'ection, and the most intimate converse, even 
 from your infant years, can give me a title to that 
 tender name. 
 
 If you desire to serve Christ with your spirit in 
 his gospel, I confess you undertake a difiicult task. 
 So difficult, that were there not a much better spirit 
 than our own, in the strength of which we attempt 
 it, even the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ 
 himself, I know not how any of us could encourage 
 our younger brethren, or how we could find any en- 
 couragement ourselves, in the midst of so many in- 
 firmities, temptations, and oppositions. But at once 
 exhorting you, ray dear son, to be strong in the 
 grace which is in Christ Jesus, and praying, as the 
 apostle expresses it, that the Lord Jesus Christ may 
 be with your spirit, I proceed to give you some 
 hints, as to that frame and temper in which it must 
 be your business and mine to preserve our spirits, 
 if we desire they may be fit for so great a service. 
 And my younger brethren who hear me this day, of 
 which there is so large an appearance, will, I hope, 
 consider a great deal of what is now to be said, as 
 their own concern, as well as ours, and lay it up in 
 their memories, as against their own ordination 
 day. Not to say how much every preacher, and 
 every private Christian, is obliged, on the common 
 principles of religion, to cultivate the main branches 
 of the temper 1 am to recommend. Now, with re- 
 spect to this, I may indeed say, as Solomon docs, 
 Keep thine heart with all keeping ; bestow the ut- 
 most attention upon it, and let every thing be done 
 that can be imagined, with any appearance of pro- 
 priety, in subserviency to so great an end. May it 
 be your constant care, and the grand, noble point of 
 your ambition, to have a mind as well ordered as 
 possible. So that no one irregular afPeetion may be 
 admitted or encouraged, no one good affection 
 wanting or languid. But the general exhortation 
 
 may further be illustrated in such particulars as 
 these which I shall touch upon, not as exhausting 
 the subject, but as containing some of the most 
 material instances of watchfulness and duty, to 
 which it may lead. 
 
 Be solicitous, my dear friend, if you would serve 
 God with your spirit in the gospel of his Son, that 
 your spirit be habitually devout — and humble, — 
 that it be elevated and free, — that it be attentive 
 and active, — that it be courageous and resolute, — • 
 that it be tender and gentle. 
 
 1, 2. Let it be your care that your spirit be 
 evangelically devout; that it be set upon God, 
 upon God in Christ. He is your Master, and you 
 are always in his sight ; labour to act as conti- 
 nually in it. Converse much with him, and you 
 will love him the more, and, by a very natural con- 
 sequence, you will serve him the l)etter. Labour 
 after the knowledge of tlie Divine Being, so far as 
 feeble mortals can attain it : and see to it that it be 
 a practical knowledge, affecting your heart with 
 those powerful emotions of reverence and love, due 
 to the great Father of the world, and to your God 
 and Father in Christ. Know and honour him under 
 the various views in which he appears by the light 
 of nature and revelation, realizing to your own 
 mind continually, his existence and his presence. — 
 " O my soul, there is a God, and such a God as I 
 discourse of to others ; and he is this day, this 
 moment, present with me, and observing what re- 
 gard I will show him, and what effect all the dis- 
 coveries he has made of his greatness and goodness 
 will have upon my mind and my life !" 
 
 Let this engage you to make devotion a consider- 
 able part of your business, and to attend to it as 
 such. You will often be speaking to God, in the 
 name and presence of others ; and a regard to yout 
 own reputation will engage you then to address 
 him in a solemn, reverend, composed, and affec- 
 tionate manner. 
 
 It will engage you to awa.ken and regulate your 
 thoughts, while employed in social prayer, which 
 indeed seems to me by far the most difficult part of 
 our public work, as performed in such assemblies 
 as ours. But surely that minister has great reason 
 to suspect the integrity of his own heart, that can 
 pray with some copiousness, affection, and pleasure 
 with others, and in secret can only find in his 
 heart to run over a few hasty, inattentive, and cus- 
 tomary words, in such a manner as he would be 
 ashamed to do, if any one of his fellow-creatures 
 was present. G uard against this, my dear brother ; 
 and especially guard against it in the evening, 
 when the fatigues arising from the labour of the 
 day may expose you to the peculiar danger of it. 
 And for that purpose take time to retire, if possible, 
 before the fatigue becomes loo great and sen.sible, 
 that there may be ilame for the evening sacrifice. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 871 
 
 Be assured, that as prayer is the food and breath of 
 all practical religion, if I may be allowed the ex- 
 pression, so secret prayer in particular is of vast 
 importance ; insomuch, that I verily believe, that if 
 a man were to keep a particular and accurate 
 journal of his own heart but for one month, he 
 would find as real and exact a correspondency 
 between the temper of his soul at seasons of secret 
 devotion, and in other parts of his life, as we find 
 between the changes of the barometer and of the 
 ■weather. 
 
 To furnish out matter for prayer, let meditation 
 be called in to j'our assistance ; and let the word of 
 God, above all, be the subject of your meditation. 
 You know it is placed among the most distinguish- 
 ing characters of a good man, that his delight is in 
 the law of the Lord, and in his law doth he medi- 
 tate day and night. Various matter of prayer may 
 b)' this means be suggested, and the soul brouglit 
 into a proper frame for pouring out itself before 
 God. Observe in what channel the devotion of 
 David and Asaph ran in the Old Testament, and 
 that of Paul, John, and the other apostles, under 
 the New, and, above all, that of our great Lord ; and 
 labour, M ith allowances for the difference of circum- 
 stances, to have your heart afl'ected with divine 
 things, as theirs seen; to have been. 
 
 Labour not only to breathe out this temper before 
 God in the seasons of solemn devout retirement, for 
 which you will do well to have your hours and your 
 plan, to be, if possible, strictly and resolutely ob- 
 served, but also endeavour to carry it along with 
 you into the world : and be lifting up your heart to 
 God, in many of those little vacancies of time 
 which often hang on the hands even of the busiest 
 of mankind, but might this way be profitably em- 
 ployed. Why should you, for several hours to- 
 gether, be in tlic presence of such a Master, and 
 such a Friend, without speaking one word to him ? 
 Or wliy should any of his most afl'ectionate ser- 
 vants, in former ages, have addressed him with a 
 devotion warmer and more constant than yours ? 
 If this advice be observed, you will also be glad to 
 have an occasional errand to the throne of grace, 
 will be heartily glad to sweeten the hours of friendly 
 conversation, by making them subservient to com- 
 munion with God. It will glad you often to con- 
 clude your visits with prayer, and cliccrfully to 
 come info any scheme of seeking God in a more 
 solemn and express manner, on any particular 
 emergencies that may arise relating to yourself and 
 friends ; as also to encourage what we commonly 
 call private meetings for social prayer at stated 
 times, which, so far as I can judge, greatly promote 
 a minister's usefulness, and which arc generally 
 kept up with the greater spirit, and the best order, 
 when he accustoms himself to be often present at 
 them. 
 
 But permit me, Sir, before I dismiss this head, to 
 remind you, that it is evangelical devotion I am re- 
 commending ; a devotion in which a due regard is 
 habitually maintained, to the love and grace of 
 Christ, and to the influence of his good Spirit. la- 
 deed one would think, if a man believed the gospel, 
 his devotions should naturally and unavoidably 
 take this turn. Would to God we find it so ; never- 
 theless this I may confidently say, so far as reason 
 and experience can justify a confidence in saying 
 any thing, that very much will depend upon turn- 
 ing our thoughts into the channel to which the gos- 
 pel has directed them, and viewing things in the 
 light in which that has placed them. No devotion 
 so sweet, and none so lasting, as that Mhich is 
 thus guided and animated. Remember it is the 
 Gospel in which you are serving him ; and you can 
 never serve him so eflectuall}', as by a close and 
 constant attendance to it. Keep your heart there- 
 fore full of those impressions, which it will natu- 
 rally introduce into an attentive mind. Think what 
 a friend the blessed Jesus has been to you, and how 
 much you are, and must for ever be, indebted fo his 
 life and death, his resurrection and ascension, his 
 guardianship and intercession. And when this 
 view grows daily familiar to your own soul, your 
 heart will teach your mouth, and add this best kind 
 of knowledge to your lips. So that you will be in 
 no danger of starving or destroying the souls of 
 your hearers, as I fear many who should be minis- 
 ters of the gospel do, by a criminal and fatal silence 
 upon these heads : and this will happily influence 
 you to all humility of spirit in the service of Christ; 
 for nothing has so great a tendency to humble the 
 soul, as the sight and converse of the blessed and 
 glorious, Jehovah, in whose presence we are less 
 than nothing, and vanity ; especially when we con- 
 sider ourselves as introduced to him by the blood 
 of Christ, and animated by his own Spirit, in 
 every thing which is pleasing, in every thing which 
 is not olfensive, to him. Pride, my dear brother, is 
 one of the most subtle, and one of the most dan- 
 gerous enemies that you will encounter with, in 
 the whole course of your Christian and ministerial 
 warfare. It is at once astonishing and grievous, to 
 think under how many specious forms it insinuates 
 itself into the very sanctuary of God, and hides it- 
 self, if I may be allowed the expression, even un- 
 der the vestments of those who serve at his altar; 
 indeed frustrating its own most darling end, and 
 exposing tlicni at once to the displeasure of God, 
 and, to wliat they seem yet more to fear, the con- 
 tempt of men. You must therefore continually 
 and constantly guard against it; and make it one 
 of the chief cares of your life, not only to suppress 
 its growth, but to root it out of your soul. 
 
 If you would be honourable in the sight of the 
 Lord whom you serve, you must be humble, and 
 
872 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 that liiimility must be seated, not merely in the 
 external behaviour, but in the heart. A small de- 
 gree of common sense may be sullicient to preserve 
 a man from the ridiculous folly of niakiuji; cneo- 
 niiums upon Iiiuiself, and iiis own performances ; 
 or from the madness of putting on imperious airs in 
 common life, wliich is indeed no other than be- 
 speaking the scorn and aversion of all about us. I 
 had almost said, a manly pride will set a minister 
 above these things, and tcacli hinj to curb every 
 appearance of them. But our humility should 
 dwell in our very souls; and I am well persuaded, 
 the greatest and the best of men may find enough 
 in themselves to nourish it from day to day. When 
 I think, for instance, what the man and the minis- 
 ter, in the most perfect view. of his character, ought 
 to be, in comparison with wliat I myself am ; when 
 I look about on all the negligences and irregulari- 
 ties of my life ; when I look in espeeially on all the 
 folly and corruption of my heart ; and further re- 
 collect, that all these tilings arc open to tlie eyes of 
 God, who sees what I am, and what I have done, in 
 comparison with what I should have been, and 
 should have done, in comparison to what I might 
 have been, and might have done, for his glory, and 
 the good of mankind, if all my capacities, and all 
 my opportunities, had been improved to the highest 
 possible degree ; what reason do I find for the 
 deepest abasement in the divine presence! what 
 reason to abhor, rather than applaud, myself; to 
 hide my head with conscious blushes, rather than 
 to lift it up in a haughty supercilious manner, as if 
 I had whereof to glory before God or man ! It is 
 not a freedom from gross matter of reproach among 
 men, no, nor sonic distinguishing share of genius, of 
 learning, of eloquence, of reputation and popularity, 
 that will raise a man's esteem for himself, when 
 such views as these are made familiar to the mind. 
 He will apprehend it to be, at least a snpposable, 
 and indeed a very probable, case, that many who, 
 in these things, and in the eye of the world, are his 
 inferiors, may on account of their better temper and 
 conduct be in the eyes of God far superior to him ; 
 and may be fitted for much more distinguished 
 honours in that world which is to fix our rank for 
 ever : and we shall certainly find it very much for 
 our own ease and comfort in life, thus to esteem 
 others better than ourselves, in honour preferring 
 one another. When we do not look upon any dis- 
 tinguishing regards as our due, if we miss them we 
 shall not be much disappointed, and if they meet 
 us, we shall think ourselves obliged to the world 
 for its kind partiality in our favour; and behave so 
 much the more humbly, wliile we endeavour indeed 
 to be, what they are so kind as to tiiink we arc : and 
 thus, in more senses than one, it will be prudent 
 for him, who would be the greatest, to be tlie least, 
 and servant of all. Our blessed Redeemer is such 
 
 an example of this amiable temper, that nothing in 
 the world illustrates the natural pride and cor- 
 ruption of the human heart more, than that this ' 
 lesson is so little learnt and practised, by those 
 who call themselves his disciples, and even his 
 ministers. 
 
 3. Let it be your (concern to preserve a due free- 
 dom and elevation of spirit. I join tlicse together, as 
 being nearly of a kin, and the latter only a superior 
 degree of the former. And tlierefore when I men- 
 tion liberty of mind, you will apprehend I intend 
 not only or cliicdy what the world calls freedom of 
 sentiment. You have long since been taught to 
 indulge that, and have I hope taken your religion 
 from the word of God, and not from any human 
 system or composition whatever. Go on to act upon 
 this maxim. I dare not say, like St. Paul, Con- 
 tinue in tlic things thou hast learnt and been assured 
 of by me, knowing of whom thou hast learned them. 
 Tt rather becomes me to say. Examine all I have 
 taught you, and search the Scriptures daily whether 
 these things are so or no. You will not, I am per- 
 suaded, run the matter to extremes, and imagine, 
 like some half-thinkers, that liberty consists in 
 boldly daring to decide against received opinions, 
 as soon as some new difficulties are discerned ; and 
 confidently venting raw and undigested notions, 
 however noxious, without fearing any of the consc- 
 (luences. And while you guard against this, I am 
 not so conscious of the weakness of any cause in 
 which I am embarked, as to fear it should be brought 
 to the test of strict inquiry. But this inquiry, how 
 well soever guarded and regulated, is not the whole 
 that I mean by freedom. I intend something much 
 nobler and greater ; something which many who 
 boast loudly of their liberty are entirely ignorant 
 of. I mean a freedom from all undue attachments 
 to every thing that would debase and enslave the 
 mind, and render a man the ignominious servant of 
 corruption. 
 
 If Paul thought it proper to say to Timothy, Keep 
 thyself pure, and flee youthful lusts, the admonition 
 cannot be unseasonable to any who are early in 
 life entering on the ministry. And indeed, if after 
 so many years spent in the apostolic oflice, he repre- 
 sented it as a daily labour of his life, to keep under 
 his body, and bring it under subjection ; we may 
 reasonably conclude, that the most advanced serv- 
 ants of Christ had need to be cautious on this head ; 
 had need, while they dwell in an animal body, to 
 watch and pray, that they enter not into temptation. 
 Especially considering that some of the excesses to 
 which unguarded appetite may betray a man, arc 
 of such a nature, as to fix a lasting stain upon his 
 character. A minister especially may, in one single 
 hour, incur a reproach, which past and future years 
 of the strictest temperance shall not be able to 
 avert, remove, or efface. Yet I cannot but say, 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 873 
 
 tliat to a person in wliom the habits of a temperate 
 and regular life are formed, I apprehend the pas- 
 sions to be much more dangerous enemies than the 
 appetites ; and especially those excesses of the 
 passions, which are generally, among virtuous and 
 wortliy men, reckoned weak rather than infamous. 
 By these has many a wise and good man been 
 miserably enslaved, and fallen far beneath the dig- 
 nity of his character and oflice ; not to mention the 
 unhappy consequences they have often draw n after 
 them, with respect to the ease and comfort of future 
 life. 
 
 Wisdom is not indeed intended to root out the 
 passions, but she seldom dwells in the heart in 
 which they are suffered to grow wild. They turn 
 the soul into a desert, and render it a disagreeable 
 abode to so divine a guest; or rather, to speak in 
 language more becoming a Christian divine, tlic 
 blessed Spirit of God is by this means driven awaj', 
 and it is impossible to say how much the evil 
 spirit may sometimes do, in his absence, to irritate 
 our minds, and drive them into the most fatal ex- 
 tremes. It must tlierefore be of great importance 
 to keep a resolute guard on these turbulent sub- 
 jects, and to check the first rising of sedition among 
 them; lest they gather strength by insensible de- 
 grees, and break out into such open rebellion, as to 
 depose reason and religion from the tlironc, re- 
 ducing the soul into a state of anarcliy ; or rather, 
 making its noble rational powers the slaves of those 
 whom they were formed to command. 
 
 To be secure from all the danger, and all the ap- 
 pearances, of so great an evil, let it be your care, 
 Sir, to maintain a becoming elevation of spirit, and 
 to fdl your mind with sublime ideas, principles, and 
 views. This the Christian religion naturally sug- 
 gests to all its votaries, and above all to its minis- 
 ters. Think, what a Master you serve, and in what 
 a work you arc engaged ! Think how little all the 
 titles which the princes of this world can give must 
 appear, when comp.ired with that of the minister of 
 Jesus, and a servant of God in the salvation of 
 souls. Think how low the employments of secular 
 life are, even those in which the nobles and kings 
 of the earth are engaged, in comparison w ith yours. 
 In this respect, it is good to magnify ourolTiee; not 
 as if it gave us any the least power to tyrannize 
 over our brethren, to invade their liberty of think- 
 ing, or of acting, or to conunand their properties in 
 any degree. Secular power seems too inconsider- 
 able a thing for our Master to give to .servants, 
 whom he has set so high in his family, and intends 
 for a charge so much greater and more important, 
 in which the exercise of that would necessarily in- 
 terrupt them. We arc appointed to be, in subor- 
 dination to Christ, the friends, the guardians, the 
 deliverers of souls ; and if our labour succeeds, the 
 effect is everlasting. All the productions of human 
 
 art and industry shall perish ; the palaces and 
 citadels which it raises shall moulder back to dust, 
 and be levelled with the earth ; the mightiest na- 
 tions, whose interests divide the globe, shall soon 
 be blended together, and distinguished no more. 
 But every soul whom we recover to Christ and to 
 holiness, will be an everlasting monument of the 
 power of divine grace, and of our fidelity to our 
 Master's service ; will be an honour and delight to 
 us, ten thousand thousand thousand years after 
 the earth itself has been removed out of its place. 
 Think and act like one that has such grand schemes 
 in view ; like one who is continually realizing to 
 himself the presence of God, and the prospect of 
 immortality, and has learnt by them not an aflected 
 and counterfeited, but a real, contempt for the plea- 
 sures and interests of this perishing state; like one 
 who has learnt heartily to pity those whom mis- 
 taken mortals imagine the objects of congratulation, 
 or of envy. 
 
 4. Let it be your constant care to keep your spirit 
 attentive and active. 
 
 The great employments and views in which you 
 are engaged, should, methinks, effectually engage 
 you to this. Since the work is so grand, and to be 
 carried on in the midst of so much opposition, as 
 you well know is to be expected from the indispo- 
 sitions and corruptions of our own hearts, and the 
 influence of so subtle and so powerful an enemy as 
 the prince of darkness is, you will naturally appre- 
 hend that many difficulties and obstructions will 
 arise ; so that you had need exercise an habitual 
 prudence, both to guard against temjitations, and 
 to seize opportunities ; precious but transient op- 
 portunities, which perhaps, if they are once suffered 
 to slip by, may never return. " Bright as the 
 heavenly world appears to my view and my liopcs," 
 says an eminent Christian in one of his letters, " I 
 am sometimes afraid of going thither, till I have 
 done something considerable for the service of 
 Christ upon earth." Methinks such a thought as 
 this, while the uncertainty of human life is remem- 
 bered, should engage us to a watchfulness of soul, 
 should lead us every hour to recollect, "What can 
 I do for my great and glorious Master .' What can 
 I do for him inuncdiately '. Supposing this should 
 be the very last day I have to spend in his service, 
 how may he find me employed in a manner that will 
 be most acceptable to him .'" 
 
 Labour, in this view, to do good-every day, and 
 every day to do as much good as possible ; and if 
 any thing can «)nvenienlly be done to-day, defer it 
 not, by any means, till to-morrow. To-morrow is 
 (Jod's, and not yours; and if it come, and find you 
 here in a capacity of service, it will so far take 
 thought for the things of itself, that whatever you 
 (^aii do to-day, there will be business enough re- 
 main, for that and for the next day too, and for 
 
874 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 all tlie (lays and lioiiis (iod shall assign you. Tlicrc- 
 tore, Sir, guard not oidy against a slothful and in- 
 active temper, but against unnecessary delay. Here 
 are certain duties so apparently great and import- 
 ant, that Satan himself has not the assurance so 
 much as (o propose it to us, that we should come to 
 a resolution that we will always omit them. All 
 he w ill demand is, that you would this day wait for 
 a more convenient opportunity, and continue wait- 
 ing to-morrow, and so on for one day more, till he 
 can find you no more excuse for further procrasti- 
 nation. And it is by this artidce, palpable as it is, 
 that he enervates the usefulness of the greater part 
 of Christians ; that he makes their life but a shadow 
 of what it might be, and sinks them into so insig- 
 nificant a kind of being, that one would imagine a 
 rational soul should be conlinuall}' upbraiding itself 
 with its own importance, v.hile its noble furniture 
 and capacity is employed to such low purposes ; 
 and instead of acting, is only dreaming first of one 
 vanity, and then of another ; always intending to 
 be wise and useful hereafter, but not allowing itself 
 so much as to say when. I have always observed, 
 that those tradesmen who are most solicitous to 
 execute their orders immediately, give the greatest 
 satisfaction to others, and generally improve their 
 own stock best. But alas, the children of this world 
 are, in this respect, and almost every other, wiser 
 than the children of light. I would only add, that 
 as growing years will naturally impair the activity 
 of the spirits, it will be your wisdom, while you are 
 young, to accustom yourself to vigour and despatch, 
 that so the force of habit in riper years may be 
 some equivalent for the want of the vivacity which 
 will then, in the course of nature, be diminished. 
 And I really think activity and cheerfulness to be 
 so nearly allied, that one can hardly take a more 
 cflectual method to secure the latter, than to culti- 
 vate the former. Especially when, as in the pre- 
 sent instance, it is employed to sow the seed of an 
 immortal harvest, which will be rich and glorious 
 in proportion to our present diligence and zeal. 
 
 6. In order to this activity, it will be necessary 
 to see to it, that your spirit is maintained in a 
 courageous and a resolute temper. 
 
 The dillieulty and obstructions which I hinted 
 under the former head will render this necessary, 
 and necessary in proportion to your diligence : just 
 as the resistance of any dense fluid, through which 
 a body is moved, acts more forcibly, in proportion 
 to the velocity with which the body is impelled. 
 You must therefore lay your account thus ; the 
 ministry is not an easy employment ; it will not 
 always go on smoothly ; many entanglements will 
 arise, even from the pleasantness of our circum- 
 stances, from the kindness of our friends, many of 
 whose importunities we must break through, if we 
 desire to improve our time well, and to pursue the 
 
 business in which we arc engaged ; and in the exe- 
 cution of some part of it, other and greater didicul- 
 ties must be expected. It is possible you may not 
 be able faithfully to discharge your duty, without 
 greatly disobliging some whom you respect and 
 love ; some on whom your temporal circumstances 
 may very much depend. Perhaps you may be 
 obliged, in conscience, to bear a public testin»ony 
 against their errors, or against their irregularities, 
 and it may be against both, as they are frequent 
 companions : or at least you may be obliged plainly 
 to admonish them in private, and expostulate with 
 them in a manner that they may not be disposed to 
 bear ; even after all the most prudent address on 
 your side, to make it as inoffensive as is consistent 
 with fidelity. Nor is it impossible, that in conse- 
 quence of some distant and unforeseen change in 
 public aflairs, you may be called forth even to mar- 
 tyrdom, and obliged either to resist to blood, or to 
 make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience. 
 An heroic resolution must therefore be put on, that 
 in tlie strength of Christ you will be faithful to the 
 death ; that your Master may be pleased, whoever 
 is displeased, and that your crown of glory may be 
 secure, whatever else is lost. And it will be the 
 part of Christian prudence sometimes to exercise a 
 voluntary self-denial, in smaller matters, that it 
 may become easier to 3'ou in circumstances of con- 
 siderable difficulty, importance, and necessity. But 
 while you are setting your face like a flint in the 
 midst of all the most violent and forcible opposition, 
 6. Let this courage and resolution be tempered 
 with a becoming degree of tenderness and gentle- 
 ness. 
 
 Labour to preserve your mind continually under 
 the influences of benevolence and love. Remember 
 you serve the most benevolent of masters, in the 
 most benevolent of works. The whole business of 
 your life is to do good ; and therefore, to make that 
 business easy, cultivate love ; for the labours of love 
 arc easy labours, and are indeed no other than their 
 own reward. 
 
 Indulge too a continued sensibility of heart. Be 
 willing to look upon the sorrows of others, and to 
 ^ feel them, and live continually mindful of the com- 
 mon tie of brotherhood and of kind. Look upon 
 the human family as one, and then do all you can 
 to make it an orderly and happy family. Especially 
 cultivate love and compassion to the souls of men. 
 Seriously think what an immortal soul is, and to 
 what extreme danger the souls of multitudes are 
 exposed. Think also in how languid a slate reli- 
 gion is, so far as actions can discover it, in the 
 souls of many, concerning whom, charity v.ould 
 hope that they are not quite estranged from all the 
 principles of the divine life ; and long earnestly to 
 bring them into a more healthful state, and to see 
 them lively and active. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 875 
 
 Under this head let me recommend to you a ten- 
 der love for the rising generation, and particularly 
 for little children, dear amiable creatures, who, one 
 would think, should need no advocate to plead their 
 cause, with a person of a humane and generous 
 disposition. Christ was an example of condescend- 
 ing regard to them, and he certainly meant to teach 
 it to us. Learn this meekness and lowliness from 
 him. Converse with them, instruct them, and as 
 you are often praying for them, be sometimes pray- 
 ing with them too ; and for that purpose appoint a 
 number of them at proper seasons to attend you, 
 and then, when you have talked with them in a free 
 and affectionate manner about the things of reli- 
 gion, pray over them, in such easy natural language 
 as they are most likely to understand, and recom- 
 mend them to God with that tenderness of heart 
 which their presence will naturally inspire. 
 
 T have often observed numbers of them melt into 
 tears upon this occasion ; and when that is the case, 
 it is a secret encouragement to hope, that even while 
 we are praying, God hears. And would parents 
 sometimes try the same method with their children, 
 and appoint but a few minutes every week to pray 
 with them alone, they might find, as to my certain 
 knowledge some pious parents have done, not only 
 that it had a good tendency to compose and soften 
 the temper of those little creatures, but possibly, in 
 some instances, to give such a turn to the mind of 
 those grown up to some maturity, as might be car- 
 ried through the remainder of life ; and fixed upon, 
 as the probable season from whence their conver- 
 sion to God might take its first rise. 
 
 While I am on this head, I must exhort you also, 
 to condescend to the least and weakest, as well as 
 the youngest. Remember you can never stoop so 
 low to others, as Christ has stooped to you ; and 
 that, when you have done all, your great Master 
 I will exceed you in condescension, as much as he 
 
 I does in glory. 
 
 Let this tenderness also engage you to enter into 
 the sorrows of others. Who, says St. Paul, is weak, 
 and I am not weak ? Who is offended, and I burn 
 not ? i. c. feel fire, as it were, kindled in my bosom, 
 which makes me restless till I have done all I con- 
 veniently can to make him easy. You, Sir, must 
 I accustom yourself to bear the burthens of others, 
 that you may fulfil the law of Christ, and with 
 greater advantage teach others to fulfil it. You 
 must not shun the cottages of the poor, or the cham- 
 bers of the languishing ; nor must your ear be so 
 
 I I intent on the more pleasing sounds, as to turn away 
 from the sighs and groans of the distressed. You 
 must often be visiting your brethren, that you may 
 see how they do ; and their personal or domestic 
 afllictions must be tenderly weighed, in their various 
 circumstances, that your heart may feci its part, 
 and so prompt you to do all you can, if possible, to 
 
 remove them ; or if that be impracticable, as it often 
 will be, at least to alleviate them ; and sometimes 
 the sight and conversation of a Christian friend 
 does so much to alleviate them, that one would 
 imagine so cheap a charity should not be denied. 
 Let not our Master say, in reference to any of his 
 servants, I was sick and ye visited me not ; I was 
 confined and ye did not come unto me. Y'ou will, 
 I hope, be read}-, according to your ability, to re- 
 lieve the necessitous : you will also, I hope, improve 
 your interest among your Christian friends, to pro- 
 cure that relief which you cannot immediately 
 give ; and be assured that, while thus employed, 
 you'are performing a kind action toward the rich 
 and the prosperous, many of whom are so ready to 
 forget the indigent and afllicted, that when one 
 thinks upon the great day of account, one is ready, 
 as the world generallj' appears, to congratulate the 
 poor, and to tremble for the rich. Let benevolence 
 to both, therefore, remind you of St. Paul's words 
 to Timothy, Charge them that are rich in this world, 
 that they be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain 
 riches, but in the living God, who gives us all things 
 richly to enjoy ; that they do good, that they be 
 rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to 
 communicate, laying up in store for themselves a 
 good foundation against the time to come, that they 
 may lay hold of eternal life. 
 
 And before I close this head, I must also beseech 
 you, by the meekness and gentleness of Christ, that 
 you endeavour to exercise a meek and gentle temper 
 under contradiction and opposition. I hope and 
 believe you will meet with very little of this sort> 
 from so kind, so generous, and so obliging a people, 
 as that to which you have the happiness of being 
 related: yet there is no soil so good, but some root 
 of bitterness may spring up in it, and if not among 
 your own people, and among your nearest brethren 
 in the ministr}', yet among others injuries may arise ; 
 but if you arc reviled, revile not again ; if you are 
 injured, let forgiveness be all your revenge; for it 
 is all Christianity allows, and all that it is good for 
 us to take. And if you should, which is always too 
 supposablc a case, be called out to combat with 
 error and immorality, venture to do it in the spirit 
 of meekness. It is the method which the God of 
 truth and holiness has taught us. The servant of 
 the Lord, says the apostle, must not strive, but mast 
 be gentle towards all men, in meekness instructing 
 those that oppose themselves, if peradventure God 
 will give them repentance. We must be cautious 
 lest the old serpent find out a way of brooding over 
 our hearts, and diffuse his venom tiicre, while wc 
 mistake the fermentation it occasions to be only a 
 warmth of zeal for Christ, and so do tiie work of his 
 enemy in his name. I cannot, for my part, appre- 
 hend satire to be an ordinance of Christ ; at least I 
 believe he will be more ready to excuse those who 
 
87C 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 have crrod on tlip tender llian on the severe ex- 
 treme. The knowh^l^e I have had of your natural 
 disposition, prevents my enlarging^ on this licad, 
 which, with regard to you alone, it might not here 
 have been material to mention : nevertheless it is a 
 sin that easily besets young divines, who, as I sup- 
 pose, with their wits and passions w'arm about 
 them, have had the ehief hand in bringing theolo- 
 gical fury into a proverb. As for you. Sir, what- 
 ever personal ill usage you may meet with in life, 
 be not overcome with evil, but overcome evil with 
 good ; and trust in him who has given you the com- 
 mand, to bear you harmless while you are careful 
 to observe it. Goodness will, on the whole, not 
 only be safe, but victorious ; and the wisdom of this 
 and all the other rules of our great Master, will be 
 demonstrated, not so much by debate, as by expe- 
 rience. Go on, therefore, my dear friend and 
 brother, not only in this respect, but in all others, 
 to conduct your spirit by these, and you will find 
 them your ornament and defence. The satisfaction 
 of a well governed, and of an acceptable and suc- 
 cessful, ministry, will infinitely over-balance all the 
 pains you can take with your spirit, to keep it in 
 such a temper. God will approve the elfcct of his 
 Holy Spirit's agency on your heart ; and when I 
 have said you w ill be the object of his approbation 
 and delight, it is little to say the happy fruits of 
 this care, which will appear in the sight of your 
 fellow-creatures, will entitle you to their venera- 
 tion and affection, and gain a degree of both, which 
 neither the exalted stations, the most flourishing 
 circumstances, or the most extensive genius and 
 learning, could possibly secure in the neglect of these 
 
 things. And as there is no room to doubt but divine 
 grace w ill bless your labours, while conducted on 
 such principles, you will be continually laying up 
 in store new treasures, to be possessed in the (Celes- 
 tial world, among multitudes whom God will make 
 you an instrument of bringing on into the w ay to it, 
 or of conducting in those peaceful and blissful 
 paths. 
 
 I conclude with exhorting you, my friends of this 
 congregation, to continue your afTectionate regards 
 to my dear brother, who has now commenced a 
 more intimate relation to you than before, and is 
 become your pastor. Never give him reason to 
 repent that he is so, and that he has preferred you 
 to other congregations, who would gladly have en- 
 gaged his settlement among them. Encourage his 
 valuable labours by your constant attendance, and 
 by your friendly care for his support: above all, 
 endeavour to improve in religion by his means. I 
 am well satisfied that he seeks not yours but you, 
 and will think he lives indeed, if you stand fast in 
 the Lord. You will not, I persuade myself, grieve 
 him by any personal unkindness : God grant that 
 none of you may distress his soul by undoing your 
 own ! God grant that none of you may send him 
 back to his great Master with lamentation, on ac- 
 count of your refusing to accept of that message of 
 pardon and life he brings! I do indeed hope better 
 things of j'ou, and things that accompany salvation; 
 and conclude with my hearty prayer, that he may 
 rejoice in every soul of you in the day of the Lord, 
 that he has not run in vain, nor laboured in vain. 
 Amen. 
 
 1 
 
 A CHARGE, 
 
 Delivered at Norwich, al the OrcVntation of the Heverend Mr, Abraham Tozer; 
 
 on June 2Qth, 1745. 
 
 My dear brother, 
 When I consider the rational and edifying manner 
 in which the solemnities of ordination days amongst 
 us are adjusted and conducted, and recollect what 
 I hope I may justly call the various and delightful 
 tokens of the divine presence in our assemblies on 
 such occasions, I cannot but esteem it my happiness 
 to have been an attendant on so many of them. 
 My memory goes back with joy to many former 
 years, in each of which Providence has given me, 
 in one part of our country or another, to see young 
 
 ministers, who have a good report of all men, and 
 of the truth itself, after having approved themselves 
 to Christian societies, generally by some consider- 
 able scries of probationary labours, unanimously 
 chosen by the respective churches, and invited to 
 the pastoral office over them without one dissenting 
 voice. With delight have I heard their faithful 
 and afTectionate testimony to the great truths of the 
 gospel, in judicious summaries of the Christian re- 
 ligion, drawn up by them in such expressions as 
 they freely chose, without the imposition of buman 
 
3 
 
 ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 forms ; summaries which, in this connexion, I must 
 acknowledge to have been in the number of the 
 most affecting and edifying public discourses. If 
 I have ever known the spirit of prayer poured forth, 
 as in a kind of celestial torrent, to add at once dig- 
 nity, sanctity, and transport to our assemblies, it 
 has been on such occasions ; and the exhortations 
 of ray brethren in their sermons and charges, have 
 often been the means of humbling, of melting, and 
 of animating my soul. 
 
 The present pleasure attending these sacred 
 hours, the religious improvement received from 
 what has passed in them, the cheering prospect 
 which they give relating to the church in future 
 years, and even in generations yet to ccme, do all 
 concur to demand my thankfulness, that I have so 
 often on such seasons been called to go with the 
 multitude to the house of God. But I will freely 
 own, the enjoyment has often been abated by the 
 obligation I have been under to officiate, not only in 
 some public work, but especially in the part which 
 is now devolved upon me. Nor should I, after 
 having delivered so many charges, as well as opened 
 my heart so fully to you, dear Sir, in a more private 
 manner, on almost every subject relating to the 
 ministry, know how to set myself with any spirit to 
 what must be in a great measure a repetition of 
 former things; if I did not recollect, that what is 
 immediately addressed to one's self, in the midst of 
 such peculiar solemnities, may have some singular 
 weight, beyond what the same thing would have in a 
 more private address, or if thus publicly offered to 
 another person. And therefore I persuade myself, 
 you will hear me with all attention and regard, 
 while I give a little vent to the fulness of my heart, 
 in such fraternal congratulations, admonitions, and 
 encouragements, as may suit the present occasion, 
 and may, by the divine blessing, be of some service 
 to you, and my other beloved and honoured brethren, 
 who arc sharing in the honours, the labours, and the 
 burthens ef this evangelical ministry, to the full ex- 
 ercise of w hich you have now been solemnly called 
 ai)d set apart. 
 
 I. Let me most cordially and affectionately con- 
 ^ciatulate you, my dear brother, that you have now 
 
 i n thus publicly called and devoted to the niinis- 
 
 l ial and pastoral oilice. 
 
 Paul esteemed it matter of most joyful redcclion, 
 when he said, I thank Christ .lesus our Lord, that 
 I he hath counted me faithful, putting me into the 
 ministry. And I thank him from my soul, as the 
 i great head of the church, that he is still raising a 
 ! succession of those who arc to bear it, and that 
 you, dear Sir, are numbered among them. I most 
 heartily congratulate you on the honour, — the plea- 
 sure, — and the usefulness, of that station of life, on 
 V. Iiich you now enter. 
 1. I congratulate you on the honour of your office. 
 
 II 
 
 877 
 
 For with whatever contempt Ignorant and profane 
 men may treat it, it is highly honourable in its sim- 
 plest forms, and needs none of the external orna- 
 ments which men can hang about it, to render it so. 
 If it be honourable to be (though confessedly in a 
 lower sense than the title was applicable to tlie 
 apostles) an ambassador of Christ, and a man of 
 God, you have that honour. If it be honourable to 
 sustain tlic highest trust that can, in the methods of 
 common providence, be reposed in mortal man, 
 even to have the glorious gospel of the blessed God 
 committed to our charge, and to be made guardians 
 of souls which are to exist for ever: — if it be 
 honourable to bear an office which was sanctified 
 by Christ, who himself bore it, and by bearing it 
 has dignified it for ever ; an office, which is men- 
 tioned in the sacred oracles as the great gift of 
 Christ to his church ; as the immediate, though not 
 the ultimate, end of the most visible and extraordi- 
 nary effusion of his Spirit : for w hen he ascended 
 up on high, and led captivity captive, he gave gifts 
 unto men ; and distributed the royal donative, 
 giving first apostles, then prophets, then evange- 
 lists, then pastors and teachers ; tliat by it holy men 
 might be perfectly fitted for the work of the minis- 
 try, that so the body of Christ (that is, his whole 
 church) might be edified, or built up:* — rejoice, 
 that your name is now (as it were) inserted in the 
 catalogue of these his servants, and reficct fre- 
 quently on the honour ; not to be exalted above 
 measure, but to be awakened and animated to a 
 dignity and sanctity of behaviour correspondent 
 to it. 
 
 2. Let me also congratulate you on the pleasures 
 of that ofiicc on wliich you are entered. 
 
 For pleasures mingle themselves amidst all its 
 labours and difficulties, all its reproaclies and its 
 persecutions ; yea, when duly executed, it is a 
 series of pleasures. Pleasures will meet you in 
 your secret retirements ; they w ill attend you here 
 in the house of your God ; they will follow you to 
 the house of your friends; they will crown all your 
 days, and above all, your sabbaths: and these, ra- 
 tional, pure, sublime pleasures, which tiic man may 
 approve, the Christian relish, and which, did angels 
 dwell in human flesh, they surely would pursue. 
 
 Must it not necessarily be pleasant to a devout 
 heart, (and God forbid that any other should here 
 be in question !) to give itself up in secret to the 
 contemplation of divine things, to search the rich 
 mines of Scripture, to investigate the glorious mys- 
 teries with which they are pregnant, and which 
 angels stoop down that they may look into ? to com- 
 pare one part of the sacred oracles with another, 
 that each may be illustrated by tlie comparison ? to 
 
 * Tliis version I think tlie original words will bear; n-por tov xarap- 
 rtafiov TWf u'^itav eiv cpyov d."jKot-(af, <iv oiKuiu.unv t» cw/xaTOf Ttt 
 
878 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 discover, I w ill not say new doctrines of importance, 
 (for I persuade myself God has not left his Chris- 
 tian clnirch to learn them in these last days,) but 
 new illustrations of the great and acknowledged 
 truths of the gospel, new beauties in the arrange- 
 ment and expressions of particular texts, new me- 
 thods of touching the hearts of men, by truths 
 already familiar to their ear ? 
 
 What can be more delightful also, than to rise up 
 to lead the public devotions of a worshipping assem- 
 bly .' to spread before the blessed God, in their 
 name, and our own, prayers and supplications, in- 
 tercessions and thanksgivings? to remind them of 
 the divine mercy? to proclaim among them the 
 everlasting gospel, animated with a secret hope, 
 (while meditating in private, while speaking in the 
 assembly,) that by the divine blessing, the know- 
 ledge and love of God in a Redeemer may be shed 
 abroad on some ignorant and wretched soul, hitherto 
 destitute of it ; and in many otlier instances, that 
 truly Christian sentiments may be kept alive in 
 hearts that have already received them, and be 
 transmitted from the present to the next genera- 
 tion ? 
 
 Nor can any subjects of conversation administer 
 a nobler delight in the houses of your friends, than 
 those which will naturally fall before you, as a 
 minister. For if religion add so much sweetness 
 and endearment to friendship, when contracted be- 
 tween persons of the most private characters, it 
 must much more do it in such instances ; where 
 past ministerial services may be recollected, where 
 the fruits of them may be made apparent, and the 
 man of God more abundantly furnished for the future 
 discharge of his office, in the most suitable, and 
 therefore the most edifying, manner. Which natu- 
 rally leads me, 
 
 3. To congratulate you on that prospect of use- 
 fulness, which this happy day may open upon you. 
 
 It is true, that how well soever we may be fur- 
 nished for the ministry, and how agreeably soever 
 we are placed in it, we must not hope, that our 
 success will be universal ; hardly can we flatter 
 ourselves, that it will be general. What are we 
 better than our fathers, or how comparable to our 
 Master, that we should never complain with them, 
 and even with him, that we labour in vain, and 
 spend our strength for nought ? Yet wc can our- 
 selves witness, from what we have seen, and from 
 what we have felt, the blessing that hath attended 
 the ministry of others. And I trust, that even those 
 of us, who are least advanced in life, least expe- 
 rienced in the work, have already been favoured 
 with some seals of our ministry, some who are as 
 letters of recommendation, written as it were by the 
 hand of Christ himself; and that you, Sir, will be 
 thus honoured. O that it might be abundantly ! 
 Yes, I trust, God will give you to convert many. 
 
 And if it were bat one, who can express the hap- 
 piness of saving one soul from death, of conducting 
 one immortal creature to life and glory everlasting? 
 
 You will also, I doubt not, edify many by every 
 public prayer you offer, and by every sermon you 
 preach. Your words, proceeding from your own 
 heart, will reach the hearts of otlicrs, and rekindle 
 the languishing (lame of devotion. Every virtue 
 and every grace will, I hope, flourish under your 
 cultivation ; while you strengthen, with renewed 
 exhortations, every good resolution already formed: 
 and the rising generation, growing np under your 
 care, in concurrence with that of pious parents 
 whom you animate to the important charge of their 
 education, will, by insensible degrees, be furnished 
 witli the knowledge of religion, and brought, not 
 only to the speculation, but to the sentiments and 
 practice, of it. So that while others have, it may 
 be, their bags, their houses, tlieir furniture, and their 
 fields, to show as the effect of their labours ; you 
 will have captives of Satan, rescued from his ty- 
 ranny, adopted into the family of God, and honour- 
 ed with the privileges of his children, crowding his 
 courts, and surrounding his table, as the infinitely 
 more valuable fruits of yours. You will see the 
 character of Christians brightening from sabbath 
 to sabbath, under your evangelical and practical 
 instructions ; their blemishes wearing out, and their 
 graces contracting (as by exercise they will eon- 
 tract) more strength and more beauty continually. 
 
 God will also undoubtedly give you, to wipe the 
 weeping eye, to cheer the mourning heart ; to be 
 his instrument in taking off the burthen from tender 
 depressed spirits ; in which number you will some- 
 times find those, who may (if any in the world may) 
 be justly called the excellent of the earth. Christ, 
 the great Lord of the church, will in many instances 
 make you (as it were) the almoner of his bounty, 
 and messenger of his love ; while he is giving to 
 them that mourn in Zion, beauty for ashes, and 
 sending them the garments of praise in exchange 
 for the spirit of heaviness. Your kind offices, and 
 the happy efiects of them, will attend your friends, 
 not only in all the darkest hours of preceding afllic- 
 tion, but even on their dying beds. There will you 
 animate their faith ; there will you be a helper of 
 their joy ; and furnish the hand of the departing 
 pilgrim with the promises of God as a sure staff, to 
 support him in his way through all the gloomy hor- 
 rors of the last valley, by which he must pass to the 
 New Jerusalem. 
 
 By such traces of usefulness will you mark (as it 
 were) the several years, and months, and days of 
 life ; wliile the passage of so many others through 
 it is like that of an arrow through the trackless air: 
 until at length you die with a pleasing conscious- 
 ness, that you have not lived in vain, and rise to 
 rewards never to be described by mortal voice, 
 
ORDINA.TION SERMONS. 
 
 879 
 
 never to be conceived by the human heart, and of 
 which I must not say any tiling more now, as I am 
 brietly to touch upon them in the concluding part 
 of my discourse. 
 
 Now while you have these things in view, do you 
 not, my brother, congratulate yourself upon this 
 happy occasion ? I am persuaded j'ou do. I am 
 persuaded, that your heart is even now bowing it- 
 self in secret thankfulness before God, that he hath 
 honoured you with capacities for this work ; that 
 he hath furnished you with the means of a proper 
 education for it ; and that his providence has at 
 length called you out to it. Nor can your gratitude 
 forget his distinguished goodness in settling you 
 with so generous, so afl'ectionate, and so pious a 
 people, and now in the bonds of joint-pastorship 
 v/ith that faithful and venerable servant of Christ, 
 with whom you share the oflice.* You will, I doubt 
 not, serve with him, as a son with a father, in the 
 gospel of Christ. Nor can the warmest friendship 
 form a greater wish for you, than that you may learn 
 by the daily opportunities of conversing with him, 
 to improve more and more in that rich variety of 
 Christian and ministerial graces, which have for a 
 long series of years rendered his name so honour- 
 able in our churches, and his flock so peculiarly 
 happy. O that I could also congratulate you, and 
 them, on returning and continued opportunities of 
 learning, as formerly, by his public labours ! In the 
 mean time, permit me with these cordial congratu- 
 lations to intermingle, 
 
 II. Some faithful admonitions, relating to the 
 labours, — the dilliculties, — the oppositions, attend- 
 ing the station of life on which you are entered, — 
 and the solemn account in which it is to terminate. 
 
 Of these indeed you have just now been remind- 
 ed by niy dear and honoured brother, in so judicious 
 and in so pathetical a manner, that it is the less 
 necessary for me to enlarge upon them. Yet were 
 they to be wholly omitted by me in this discourse, 
 it could hardly be called a charge ; and, I fear, it is 
 a subject, on which we all need line upon line, and 
 precept upon precept. Let mc therefore solemnly, 
 though briefly, remind you, 
 
 1. Of the labours that attend this situation in 
 life. 
 
 These indeed are such, as will demand an almost 
 uninterrupted attention of mind, and vigour of 
 diligence. Labours await you at home and abroad : 
 — labours on your own days, and on the sabbath ; 
 a day of rest to others, but to you of the most 
 strenuous, though most delightful, service : — labours 
 in the study ; that knowledge may be increased ; 
 that provision may be made for public ministra- 
 tions, with solidity, with perspicuity, with propriety 
 with energy, with tenderness :— labours in the pul- 
 pit ; that public devotions may be suitably and 
 
 * The Reverend Mr. Thoman Scolt, senior. 
 
 fervently poured out before God ; and sermons so 
 delivered, as, if possible, to command the attention 
 of the auditory, and to communicate, in a natural 
 and efi'ectual manner, those good affections to others 
 which you feel in your own breast. — Not to men- 
 tion the labours to be gone through in visiting your 
 friends, and in the exercise of that prudent per- 
 sonal and domestic inspection, which you must 
 necessarily attend to, if you would approve your- 
 self a skilful, yea I will add, if you would approve 
 yourself a faithful, shepherd. — What a combination 
 on the whole ! Labours of the head, labours of the 
 voice ; but oh, above all, labours of the heart ! For 
 this is indeed the labour : to fix on our own incon- 
 stant spirits a becoming habitual sense of God ; to 
 feel always in our own breast those pious affections, 
 which it is our business to endeavour to raise in 
 others ; in a word, to keep the sacred flame of love 
 to God, to Christ, and to the souls of men, ever 
 burning, yea, ever glowing, with an intenseness of 
 heat proportionable to the number and nature of 
 those sacrifices, which are daily, which are hourly, 
 to be presented ! — Help, Ijord, or it will soon be 
 extinguished ! Feed it continually by thy celestial 
 stream ; or, who is sufficient for these things ? — You 
 will surely say so, when you consider, 
 
 2. The diflieulties attending your work, of which 
 I am next to admonish you. 
 
 But here, as indeed under the former head, your 
 own experience must already have done it in the 
 most convincing manner. You find the ministry a 
 work that requires not only patient industry but 
 wise conduct and happy address. I>ifliculties meet 
 us in the closet, even when our own minds are com- 
 petently furnished with divine knowledge, so as to 
 adjust the composition of our discourses, as that 
 the understanding of our hearers may be enlight- 
 ened, their conscience convinced, and their affec- 
 tions impressed; that the ignorant may be instruct- 
 ed, that the careless may be awakened, that the 
 hypocrite may be detected, that the mourner may 
 be comforted, the dejected revived, the backslider 
 restored, the confirmed Christian yet more establish- 
 ed ; in a word, that every one may have his portion 
 of meat in due season, and every one, so far as may 
 be, according to his own taste too ; at least, that 
 what we say, while it is intelligible to the meanest, 
 may not be justly contemptible to the more refined, 
 but that things and words may be sought out, so far 
 as faithfulness will permit, acceptable to both. 
 And how hard is it to unite all these views, espe- 
 cially amidst such a diversity of sentiments, as well 
 as circumstances ! And this, not only where those 
 are in (|uestion, who have apparently made ship- 
 wreck of faith and a good conscience, and whom in 
 some respects it might be infamy to please ; but 
 even where, among the best of men, different ap- 
 prehensions of things, conscientiously received and 
 
880 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 retained, will lead one to disiclisli what another 
 most wishes to hear, and possibly in some instances, 
 one to censure even because another applauds. 
 
 It may on all these accounts, and many others, 
 be dillicult to instruct, and it will be still more 
 dilliciilt to reprove. (Icneral hints <rivcn in public 
 will by guilty consciences be interpreted as personal 
 reflections, and perhaps aggravated into open abuse, 
 and occasions of declared enmity ; and private ap- 
 plications will be evaded, discouraged, and very 
 probably resented. The corruptions of the heart 
 will rise against the most friendly ellorts of cure ; 
 and those wounds which most absolutely require a 
 deep search, will be least patient even under tlie 
 gentlest touch. Your solicitude to please God will, 
 in many instances, displease men. Yoiir heart will 
 be grieved by many unsuccessful labours. And to 
 close the melancholy scene, you will probably sec 
 some, of whom you had very agreeable hopes, fall- 
 ing away from all regard to serious religion ; and 
 perhaps may find yourself obliged, though with a 
 reluctant heart, to bear your part in separating 
 some from your communion, whom you gathered 
 into it with the greatest joy, and in whom you 
 blessed yourself as the seals of your ministry. 
 
 These are the difiTicultics which may arise from 
 within ; and besides these, the prejudices of tlie 
 world will lie strongly against you from without. 
 Many eyes will be upon you, to observe your con- 
 duct. By some your slips will be magnified into 
 crimes ; and if you walk so cautiously, (though 
 who can promise himself that he shall ?) as to escape 
 any just blame, malice will create occasions of 
 censure, perhaps in some instances even from your 
 solicitude to avoid it. Your zeal will be called 
 bigotry, and your candour hypocrisy ; your humi- 
 lity affectation ; and your activity will be imputed, 
 either to a high opinion of your own abilities, or to 
 a vain desire of outshining others, or to a low pur- 
 suit of popularity from arrogant or interested prin- 
 ciples. Such treatment have the best of men found ; 
 and such must you expect, unless Satan lose his 
 influence over the world by much swifter degrees 
 than we have any warrant to hope that he will. 
 But this naturally leads me to warn you, 
 
 3. Of the oppositions which you may meet with 
 in your ministry. 
 
 These may indeed in different circumstances, be 
 more or less extreme ; but something of this kind 
 is at all events to be expected, and it will be our 
 wisdom to provide against the worst. Gird up 
 therefore the loins of your mind. Remember, that 
 you are putting on your harness ; and God only 
 knows to what combats you may l)e called. 
 
 We have long enjoyed halcyon days, through the 
 favour of Providence, and the etjuity of our civil 
 governors ; to whom, I hope, we are grateful for it, 
 as we ought. But He that rules in the heavens can 
 
 only say, liow soon clouds may gather, and how soon 
 tempests of thunder and lightning may burst upon 
 us. Sometimes, you know, a storm arises on a 
 sudden, and the deadness of the preceding calm 
 increases both its terror and its strength. So sinful 
 a people as mc must confess ourselves to be, can 
 never have reason to wonder at any public and 
 national calamity, which may break in upon us in 
 a moment. But should circumstances more gradu- 
 ally change, you. Sir, and our younger brethren, 
 may live to see an enemy in the sanctuary of the 
 Lord ; may live to see our religious liberties tram- 
 pled under foot, and with them Tuidoubtedly our 
 civil, for they are twins that will live and die to- 
 gether. You may perhaps be called to resist unto 
 blood, to glorify God in the flames, and to teach 
 your flock Christian courage and fidelity, not by 
 words, but by martyrdom. Such things you may 
 suffer, as a protestant, as a Christian. 
 
 And more peaceful times have their trials too, 
 though perhaps not equally severe. I do indeed 
 hope, that mutual love is growing, among the various 
 denominations of Christians, and particularly be- 
 tween us, and our brethren of the establishment. 
 And may the blessings of the God of peace rest on 
 the men w ho cultivate it, on both sides !— But we 
 cannot hope to see the time, w-hen all shall be so 
 moderate and so equitable, as not to think and judge 
 with some severity of those, whose conscience obliges 
 them, though in the modestest manner, to maintain 
 different forms of worship and discipline, even 
 where the great articles of faith are the same. — And 
 a diflerent judgment relating to the articles of faith 
 may draw down yet severer censures and opposi- 
 tion, from those whose judgment in worship and 
 discipline agrees ever so well. — And I must faith- 
 fully warn j'ou, Sir, that if you go on to assert (as I 
 hope you always w'ill) those great doctrines of the 
 gospel to which you have now borne a public testi- 
 mony, (I particularly mean the deity and atonement 
 of Christ, the ruin of our nature by the original 
 apostasy, and our restoration by the agency of the 
 blessed Spirit,) you are not to imagine, that any 
 moderation of temper, or any other personal virtue, 
 or all your zeal for the service of the common cause 
 of Christians, protcstants, or dissenters, will atone 
 for what some will imagine so great a crime; or 
 shelter you from the affected contempt and severe 
 reproaches of some angry people, who amidst all 
 their professions of the most unbounded charity will 
 think yours an excepted ease, or will rather choose 
 to be injurious to you than consistent with them- 
 selves. — But it is after all a very small matter to 
 be judged of man's judgment: he that judgeth us 
 is the Lord : and that is the most solemn thought 
 of all, concerning which I am lastly to admonish 
 you, even, 
 
 4. The awful account which you are shortly to 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 881 
 
 give up to him, from whom you have received your 
 ministry. 
 
 We must all appear before the judgment-seat of 
 Christ ; and if he account with the meanest of his 
 servants, we may assure ourselves, he will do it 
 with his stewards. And let us remember, that w hen 
 the books are opened, it will not only be found upon 
 record there, that such a congregation was at sucli 
 a time committed to this or that minister ; but a 
 particular register will in efl'ect be produced of 
 every soul consigned to our care : " So many heads 
 of families, together with such children, and such 
 servants." And then our conduct will be reviewed, 
 and examination made, " how far we have answer- 
 ed our trust." Should it be found, that we have 
 neglected and abused it, the displeasure of our 
 great Lord and Master will rise in proportion to its 
 importance, and to the opportunities we have had 
 of doing good in it: opportunities which, though 
 we may not perhaps so thoroughly examine, as to 
 conceive of their full extent, he most circumstan- 
 tially knows. And surely, if it be then found, as 
 it undoubtedly will, a fatal thing to have betrayed 
 I the bodies or the estates of men, when committed 
 ' to our care ; much more will it be so, to have be- 
 trayed, and by betraying to have destroyed, so far 
 as in us lay, immortal souls. This is a matter of 
 such weight, that when we seriously think of it, 
 and compare it w ith those criminal neglects, which 
 conscience will charge even on the best of us, there 
 is just reason for us w ith one voice to cry out. Enter 
 not into judgment w ith thy servants, O Lord ; for 
 in thy sight can none of us be justified. And when 
 you, my brother, think of it, in such a moment as 
 this, you may find your heart ready to fail ; and 
 even may be tempted to draw back, and say. Who 
 shall stand to minister before this holy Lord God ? 
 j lest he break forth upon us, and wo die. But I 
 j would not leave you under the distress of such a 
 view, and therefore conclude, 
 
 III. With a few hints addressed to you by way 
 of encouragement, to animate you to go forth with 
 courage and cheerfulness, notwithstanding these 
 awful views which I have been giving you of your 
 office. 
 
 And, through the goodness of our divine Master, 
 I have many considerations of great importance to 
 urge here. As, 
 
 1. That you have an unerring rule in the word of 
 God, from whence your instructions, admonitions, 
 and directions, are to be drawn. 
 
 You well know , that Scripture was given for this 
 end, that the man of God, that is, the Christian 
 minister, might be perfected, thoroughly furnished 
 to every good work, various as the good works of 
 his office arc. The best of human writings have 
 their defects and their blemishes ; but in this 
 respect, as well as others, it is true, that, as for 
 3 L 
 
 God, his way is perfect, and the word of the Lord 
 is tried. When we read the most excellent moral 
 and religious writings of the heathens, we find a 
 great deal of error and superstition, which mingles 
 compassion with our admiration. When we read 
 the merely human writings of the most celebrated 
 arjficnt and modern divines, there is much to exer- 
 cise our caution and our candour. As for any new 
 theological hypothesis, we generally find, on a more 
 accurate examination, the proofs of its falsehood, 
 proportionable to the confidence with which it is 
 advanced, and the importance to which it pretends. 
 And where men write with the greatest caution and 
 modesty, though such generally err the least, yet 
 there is something defective, or something redun- 
 dant ; something unguarded, or something over- 
 strained : so that, though they may be useful com- 
 panions in our journey, w e dare not commit our- 
 selves to any one of them as our guide ; and they 
 often differ so much among themselves as to increase 
 our perplexity, and indeed to give us painful 
 apprehensions as to our safety, or theirs ; did we 
 not recollect, that various paths, after having 
 divided a while, may so run into each other, as to 
 lead to the same place, though some may be more 
 direct than others. But of Scripture it may be 
 said, as of its great Original, that in it there is per- 
 fect light, and no darkness at all. O how happy 
 arc you that have, in so small a bulk, the oracles of 
 eternal truth, and particularly the volume of the 
 New Testament, which may so easily be carried 
 about with you, to entertain you abroad as well as 
 at home ; to talk with you when you lie down and 
 when you rise up ; to be the man of your counsel 
 when you are preparing to instruct your flock in 
 public, and more privately to guide and advise 
 them in the most intricate circumstances ! This is 
 like the pillar of fire, to direct your way amidst the 
 darkest night ; and like the pillar of cloud, to 
 refresh your soul amidst the most painful labours 
 and most scorching heats. Let it be followed faith- 
 fully ; and you, and that part of the Israel of God 
 over which you preside, will be happily conducted 
 through all the windings, through all the fatigues, 
 of the wilderness, till your feet and theirs stand 
 upon Mount Zion. Consult it, my dear brother, 
 and reverence it as you ought; and you will be 
 safe, not only under the shelter and guard of aged 
 wisdom, but in every change that can be appre- 
 hended or imagined. 
 
 2. You have also for your encouragement the 
 daily prayers of many, whom you have reason to 
 think not destitute of an interest at the throne they 
 address. 
 
 You have your share, I trust, in all the prayers 
 which are daily put up by the church, under its 
 various forms, for all the faithful ministers of 
 Christ; but you may assure yourself, that you arc 
 
88-2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 uioic particii Lilly and distinctly remembered by 
 your Christian friends, to whom you are related in 
 ministerial bonds. You need that remembrance ; 
 and they consider that you need it. In their fami- 
 lies, in their closets, they see not a day in which 
 they do not supplicate earnestly for the blessin;; of 
 God on your person, your studies, and your labouj^s. 
 When you come to them in the house of God, you 
 may consider yourself (if you will pardon the ex- 
 pression) as raised on the wing of their prayers ; 
 and may hope to experience, in answer to them, 
 some new unction from above. How great an en- 
 coura|?cment, amidst the daily consciousness of our 
 own unworthiness ! whether we consider it as tes- 
 tifying their love, and so securing in a great 
 measure their candour to us ; or as effectual to 
 obtain those fresh supplies of divine assistance, 
 which they have sought. Nor can I conclude this 
 head without saying, that it is happy when the 
 minister, amidst all his various cares, is as con- 
 stant, as earnest, and as affectionate, in praying 
 for the whole people committed to his care, as 
 many a pious, and, it may be, obscure Christian, 
 in each of our assemblies is, in striving with God 
 for a blessing on his minister. 
 
 3. You may also expect the countenance, esteem, 
 and friendship, of all good men that thoroughly 
 know you. 
 
 I put in this limitation, because the misrepresen- 
 tations of character which ignorance and malice 
 may draw, often alienate the minds of very de- 
 serving people from each other ; so that they turn 
 away with some distaste from they know not whom, 
 or what. But where a valuable character is known, 
 (and that of a faithful minister will always be 
 such,) it must command esteem and affection ; and 
 prejudices which had been conceived against it, 
 will melt away before the radiancy of it, like snow 
 before the sun. Be diligent and resolute in the 
 execution of your office, and you will find favour, 
 and good acceptance, in the eyes of God, and of 
 worthy men ; and perhaps, should your reputation 
 be aspersed by the ignorant and the malicious, you 
 may find that Providence will exert itself to bring 
 forth your righteousness as the light, and your 
 honour, as well as your salvation, as a lamp that 
 burneth. You will be sure of a peculiar share in 
 the affection and veneration of the flock over which 
 you preside. They will look upon you, as the gift 
 of God to the society : they will consider you, as, 
 in some measure, the representative of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ himself; of whom every faithful 
 minister is indeed a living image. They will there- 
 fore esteem you very highly in love for your work's 
 sake. The maintenance they give you, will be 
 cheerfully offered in proportion to their respective 
 abilities, as the tribute of gratitude, and the pledge 
 of endearment. Your affliction will be the com- 
 
 mon grief, and your prosperity their joy ; and each 
 of them will look upon himself as obliged in duty 
 to approve himself the guardian of your character, 
 and of your peace. Their hearts, as well as their 
 houses, will be open to you ; their countenances 
 will tell you, better than any words can do it, how 
 welcome you are to them ; and every proper token 
 of respect will be cordial, in proportion to the de- 
 gree in which it is unconstrained. And where this 
 is the case, you will have no cause to envy any dig- 
 nities or revenues, which mere power may com- 
 mand, but which no superior splendour and abun- 
 dance can render equally sweet. Above all must it 
 encourage you, to reflect, 
 
 4. That you have tlie promise of your Master's 
 presence, and may trust in him for the communica- 
 tion of his Spirit. 
 
 He that told his ministers, he will be with them 
 always, even unto the end of the world : and you 
 may rest on the veracity of a word, that shall con- 
 tinue, though heaven and earth shall pass away. 
 Christ will meet you ; Christ will strengthen you. 
 He will feed and cheer your soul ; that you may be 
 enabled to feed and to cheer those that he has com- 
 mitted to your care. It is not a mere empty sound : 
 your brethren, and your fathers, among whom you 
 stand this day, can from their own experience attest 
 the truth of the promise. He has softened our fa- 
 tigues ; he has sweetened our afllictions ; and 
 carried us with songs in our mouths through scenes, 
 at the very distant prospect of which we sliould liave 
 trembled. Having obtained help from him, we 
 continue even to this day, the living, the clieerful 
 witnesses of his power, his goodness, and his faith- 
 fulness. Thou therefore, my son, be strong in the 
 grace that is in Christ Jesus. And remember, 
 
 5. That in consequence of this, you may expect 
 such considerable improvements in personal re- 
 ligion, as shall be a rich equivalent for all your 
 labours, and for all you can resign for the ministry, 
 or suffer in it. 
 
 It must be nourishing to the soul, if it be spirit- 
 ually alive, to be so continually conversant with 
 spiritual and divine things. Your meditations, 
 your prayers, your public discourses, your private 
 converses on religious subjects and occasions, 
 together with the administration of both the sacra- 
 ments, will all have a great tendency, under a 
 divine l)Iessing, to make good impressions on your 
 own heart, and to advance you In a holy and devout 
 temper. While you are thus daily watering others, 
 you will be watered yourself ; as I doubt not but you 
 will remember, that while you teach others, you 
 teach yourself also. While the daily cares of others 
 in their secular callings, have an apparent tendency 
 to divert their minds from God, yours will tend 
 directly to him, and give you advantages, beyond 
 what can easily be Imagined, by being continually 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 883 
 
 with him : such advantages indeed, that, were the 
 nature and the \alue of them sufficiently known, 
 men would be ready to contend for the ministry, as 
 for a sacred prize. They would esteem it among 
 the greatest privileges of a plentiful estate, that it 
 might give them opportunities of being educated 
 for it, and of being independent in it ; while that 
 independency was considered as some additional 
 security for their fidelity. And the zeal, with 
 which persons of the highest rank among us would 
 then press forward to this work, would bring us 
 into a necessity of directing into some other channel 
 that provision which the wise charity of some public 
 benefactors, the living and the dead, has made for 
 the support of poor students for the ministry : a 
 charit}^ which, in the low ebb to which religion is 
 fallen amongst us, may almost, under God, be called 
 the hope of our churches, even for the very next 
 generation. Especially would the richest and 
 greatest esteem it their honour and their happiness, 
 did they consider what I am in the last place to 
 mention to you, my dear brother, viz. 
 
 6. The glorious expectation and hope, which 
 closes the whole prospect. 
 
 What if every other hope, but that of religious 
 improvement, were in a moment to vanish ? What 
 if nothing should remain, between this and the 
 grave, but the view of labours, of reproaches, of 
 tribulations, of persecutions? What if you were to 
 conflict, through the whole of your course, with the 
 malice of enemies, the coldness and ingratitude of 
 friends, the incorrigible obstinacy of sinners, the 
 perverseness and imperfections of those whom, if 
 any are such, we must hope to be Christians ? Here 
 is enough to balance all. Death is approaching : 
 death, that stripped Aaron of his garments and of 
 his burthens together, and ended all his painful 
 pilgrimage. Be faithful unto death, says our 
 divine Master, and I will give thee a crown of life. 
 O think every day of the ecstasy with which you 
 shall receive that crown, and of the high everlast- 
 ing exultation with which you shall wear it. Think 
 of the joy with which, after a life of persevering 
 fidelity to him, your .separate spirit shall ascend 
 into his presence, ere yet this body, tiie instrument 
 of his service, .shall be laid in the grave. Think of 
 the congratulations, with which your venerable 
 predecessors, your eminently pious parents, and 
 those of your flock who have fled upwards before 
 you, will then meet you, and hail your arrival. And 
 think how Jesus will, by one smile and embrace, 
 overpay all the labours and sufferings of a long 
 protracted life. Think of the complacency and 
 delight, with which you will look down on the field 
 which you have cultivated, and on the growing 
 harvest you have left behind ; while perhaps some 
 of the blessed fruits of your labours may be running 
 on from age to age, so as to be the means of pro- 
 3 L 2 
 
 pagating Christianity to the last rounds of time. 
 And O think, above all, of the great day of the 
 Lord, when the cJiief Shepherd shall appear, that he 
 may confer on you, and on all those who have 
 faithfully discharged their ministry, a crown of 
 glory that fadeth not away. Then, when every 
 Christian of the lowest station and character shall 
 receive his proper share of honour and reward, 
 what may you expect, if you faithfully improve 
 your ten talents, when those of your people whom 
 you have converted or edified, appear with you as 
 your joy and your crown in the presence of the Lord, 
 and are honoured with the public applause and 
 remunerations of the eternal and universal Judge in 
 the face of the whole assembled world? All the 
 pageantry of human greatness passes away like a 
 dream ; the sun shall be turned into darkness, and 
 the moon into blood : but human souls are durable 
 and immortal ; and they tl)at ha\ e turned manj' of 
 them to righteousness, shall have, in each, an 
 everlasting ornament, and, decked with a new lustre 
 from each, shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. 
 
 May that God whom we serve, through the riches 
 of his grace, give us all a portion in the triumph of 
 that day ! And may he add to all the joy, which 
 the most unworthy of his servants is humbly bold 
 to expect in it, that of seeing you, my dear brother, 
 giving up an account of a faithful and happily suc- 
 cessful ministry ! To encourage and assist you in 
 the discharge of which, may these plain hints con- 
 duce, throngh the blessing of him, who knows how, 
 from the least and most inconsiderable seeds, to 
 call up a rich and plentiful harvest ! Amen. 
 
 AN APPENDIX, 
 
 Relating to the usual methods of Ordination among 
 the Protestant Dissenters. 
 
 As in the beginning of the Charge I have touched 
 upon the decent solemnities attending tlie methods 
 of Ordination generally used among the protestant 
 dissenters, it may not be improper to give a brief 
 account of them ; especially as I have been earnestly 
 desired to do it by a pious and learned clergyman 
 of the established church ; who apprehends it may 
 obviate some mistakes, and promote that mutual 
 candour among Christians of different denomina- 
 tions, which both of us concur to wish, and labour 
 to promote. There is indeed a little variety in the 
 usages of different places ; but that which I have 
 generally seen, does, I believe, prevail in most of 
 our churches, with the exception, and sometimes 
 no more than the transposition, of a few circum- 
 stances. 
 
884 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 It very rarely liappeiis, that a minister anionp; us 
 is admitted to the pastoral olliee, till lie liath spent 
 some years as a kind of candidate for it ; and, so 
 far as I can recollect, more undertake it after, than 
 before, tlieir twenty-sixth year is completed. But 
 as our theolop,ical students g;enerally employ either 
 four or five years in preparatory studies, after they 
 have quitted the grammar-schools, so they are 
 examined by three or four elder ministers before 
 tlicy begin to preach.* A strict inquiry is made 
 into their character, and into their furniture ; both 
 with respect to the learned languages, especially 
 the sacred, and also as to the various parts of natural 
 and moral philosophy ; but above all, into their ac- 
 quaintance with divinity ; and some specimen of 
 their abilities for prayer and preaching is generally 
 expected. 
 
 An unordained minister is seldom chosen to the 
 pastoral ottice in any of our churches, (for in the 
 members of each of these societies the whole right 
 of election lies,) till he has resided among them 
 some months, or perhaps some years ; preaching 
 statedly to them, and performing most other 
 ministerial offices, excepting the administration of 
 the sacraments. 
 
 When the society, which generally proceeds with 
 entire unanimity in this great affair, has received 
 what it judges competent satisfaction, the several 
 members of it join in giving him a solemn and 
 express call to take upon him the pastoral inspec- 
 tion over them : and if he be disposed to accept it, 
 he generally signifies that intention to neighbouring 
 pastors ; whose concurrence he desires in solemnly 
 setting him apart to that office. 
 
 Previous to the assembly for this sacred purpose, 
 his credentials and testimonials are produced, if it 
 be required by any who are to be concerned ; and 
 satisfaction as to his principles is also given to 
 those who are to carry on the public work, generally 
 by his communicating to them the confession of his 
 faith which he has drawn up ; in which it is ex- 
 pected, that the great doctrines of Christianity 
 should be touched upon in a proper order, and his 
 persuasion of them plainly and seriously expressed, 
 in such words as he judges most convenient. And 
 we generally think this a proper and happy medium, 
 between the indolence of acquiescing in a general 
 declaration of believing the Christian religion, 
 without declaring what it is apprehended to be, and 
 the severity of demanding a subscription to any set 
 of articles, where if an honest man, who believes all 
 the rest, scruples any one article, phrase, or word, 
 he is as effectually excluded, as if he rejected the 
 whole. 
 
 The pastors, who are to bear their part in the 
 public work, having been thus in their consciences 
 
 * See the dedication to my Sermon on the Evil and Danger of neg- 
 lecting Men's Soiil", 84c. 
 
 satisfied, that the person olTering himself to ordina- 
 tion is duly qualified for the Christian ministry, and 
 regularly called to the full exercise of it ; they pro- 
 ceed, at the appointed time and place, to consecrate 
 him to it, and to recommend him to the grace and 
 blessing of God, and of our Lord Jesus Christ, the 
 great Head of the church, by fasting and prayer, 
 generally accompanied with the imposition of 
 hands ; and the public work of the day is usually, so 
 far as I have been witness, carried on in the fol- 
 lowing order, or something very near it. 
 
 It commonly opens w ith a short prayer, and the 
 reading some select portions of Scripture which 
 seem most proper to the occasion ; then a prayer is 
 olfered of greater length and compass than the 
 former, in which most of our common concerns as 
 Christians are included ; which is sometimes, though 
 less frequently, succeeded by another of the same 
 kind. Then follows a sermon, on some suitable 
 subject, such as the institution, importance, diffi- 
 culty, and excellency of the ministerial work, the 
 character and conduct of the first ministers of the 
 gospel, or the like. 
 
 After this introduction of a more general nature, 
 another minister (usually one of the eldest present, 
 who is a kind of moderator for the day,) gives the 
 assembly a more particular account of the occasion 
 of its being convened. The call of the church to 
 the candidate is then recognized, either in word, or 
 writing, or by lifting up the hand ; and his accept- 
 ance is also declared. He is then desired, for the 
 satisfaction and edification of the assem))Iy, to pro- 
 nounce the confession of faith ; (which his brethren 
 have already heard and approved ;) and pertinent 
 questions are put to him, relating to the views and 
 purposes with which he undertakes the solemn 
 charge, that he may be brought under the most 
 awful engagements to a suitable behaviour in it; 
 and an express renunciation of the errors and su- 
 perstitions of the Romish church generally makes a 
 part of these answers, as well as a declaration of 
 his resolutioti, by divine grace, never to forsake the 
 ministry, whatever inconveniences and sufi'erings it 
 may draw after it. 
 
 This being despatched, the presiding minister 
 comes down from the pulpit, and prays over the 
 person to be set apart. There is no particular form 
 of prayer on this occasion, or on any other among 
 us ; but I have observed, that the person who 
 officiates is generally led in such a circumstance, 
 to adore the divine wisdom and grace, in the con- 
 stitution and revelation of the gospel, in the ap- 
 pointment of an evangelical ministry, and in sup- 
 porting the succession of it throughout all ages of 
 the Christian church, as well as in vindicating it 
 from popish corruption and bondage. Some notice 
 is often taken of what may have seemed most re- 
 markable in Providence, with regard to -the parti- 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 885 
 
 cular circumstances of the soeietj' then to be settled, 
 and the person to be set apart to the ministerial 
 office in it ; who is then solemnly ofTered up to the 
 service of God, and recommended to liis blessing, 
 in all the several parts of his work, which are dis- 
 tinctly enumerated. And this prayer seldom con- 
 cludes without fervent intercession with God, for 
 the Christian church in general, and all its faithful 
 ministers of every denomination : and as those 
 rising up to succeed in the work are often mention- 
 ed here, so I have had the pleasure frequently to 
 hear the universities of our island, as well as more 
 private seminaries of learned and pious education, 
 affectionately recommended to the divine protection 
 and favour on such occasions, with all the genuine 
 appearances of a truly Christian and catholic spirit. 
 When that part of this prayer begins, which imme- 
 diately relates to the person then to be consecrated 
 to the service of the sanctuary, it is usual for the 
 speaker to lay his hand on his head ; and the other 
 pastors conveniently within reach, (frequently to 
 the number of six, eight, or ten,) lay on their hands 
 also, at the same time : by which we do not pretend 
 to convey any spiritual gifts, but only use it as a 
 solemn, and expedient, though not absolutely ne- 
 cessary, designation of the person then to be set 
 apart. 
 
 When this prayer is over, (which often engages 
 a very profound attention, and seems to make a 
 very deep impression both on ministers and people,) 
 the Charge is given to the newly ordained pastor, 
 who generally receives it standing (as much as may 
 be) in the sight of the w hole assembly : and an 
 exhortation to the people is sometimes joined with 
 the charge, or sometimes follows it as a distinct 
 service, unless (which is frequently the case) it is 
 superseded by the sermon, or some other previous 
 address. Another prayer follows ; and singing 
 having been intermingled, so as properly to diver- 
 sify a service necessarily so long, the whole is con- 
 cluded with a solemn benediction. 
 
 I know no method of proceeding on such occa- 
 sions, more rational, edifying, and Scrii)tural than 
 this ; and I hope, few who believe any thing of 
 Christianity, can be so ignorant or abandoned, as 
 to make light of such solemnities. But however 
 any of our fellow-servants may judge, I have a 
 calm, steady, and joyful assurance, that transac- 
 tions like these are registered in heaven with ap- 
 
 probation, and receive the sanction and blessing of 
 the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls. 
 
 Northampton, September 18, 1745. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 As tlio want of psalms or hymns, peculiarly suitable to these occa- 
 sion's, has often been ref^retted on our Ordination days, wlien we liave 
 generally been confined to the 132d or 133d Psalms, I was desired by 
 .several of my brethren to publish that which followed this Charge ; 
 and I accordingly do it without any further apolog^y. The reader will 
 easily perceive, it is a kind of devout paraphrase on Eph. iv. 8, et seq. 
 And it is one of some hundreds lying by me, on a variety of Scripture 
 subjects. 
 
 A HYMN. 
 I. 
 
 Father of mercies, in thine house, 
 Shine on our homage and our vows ! 
 W'hile with a grateful heart we share 
 These pledges of our Saviour's care. 
 II. 
 
 Blest Saviour ! when to heaven he rose 
 In splendid triumph o'er his foes, 
 What royal gifts he scatter'd down ; 
 How large, how permanent the boon ! 
 III. 
 
 Hence sprung th' apostle's honoured name, 
 Sacred, beyond heroic fame : 
 Hence dictates the prophetic sage ; 
 And hence the evangelic page. 
 
 IV. 
 
 In lowlier forms, to bless our eyes, 
 Pastors from hence and teachers rise ; 
 Who, though with feebler rays they shine, 
 Still gild a long-extended line. 
 
 V. 
 
 From Christ their varied gifts derive, 
 And fed by Christ their graces live; 
 While guarded by his potent hand. 
 Midst all the rage of hell they stand. 
 VI. 
 
 So shall the bright succession run 
 Through the last courses of the sun ; 
 While unborn churches by their care 
 Shall rise and flourish, fresh and fair. 
 VII. 
 
 Jesus our Lord their hearts shall know, 
 The spring whence all these blessings flow; 
 Pastors and people shout his praise 
 Through the long round of endless days! 
 
886 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 CHRISTIAN CANDOUR AND UNANIMITY STATED, ILLUSTRATED, 
 
 AND URGED * 
 
 To the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon, 
 
 That eminent example of the Christian Candour here recommended, and of every otiier virtue and 
 grace, which can inspire, support, and adorn it, the author, finding himself (after repeated attempts) 
 incapable of writing any dedication, under the restraints which her humility amidst its utmost indul- 
 gence has prescribed him ; or to mention any excellence which would not seem an encomium on her ; 
 has chosen thus most respectfully to inscribe this Discourse: entreating that his furtlier silence, in this 
 connexion, may be interpreted by her Ladyship, and by every reader, as the most sensible and painful 
 proof he can give of the deference, veneration, and grateful aflection with which he is. 
 
 Her Ladyship's 
 
 much obliged and obedient humble servant, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Phil. ii. 1, 2. 
 
 If there he therefore any consolation in Christ, if any 
 comfort of love, if any felloivship of the Spirit, if 
 any bowels and mercies, fulfil ye my joy, that ye 
 be like-minded, having the same love, being of one 
 accord, of one mind. 
 
 If it indeed be, as it certainly is, a test of true 
 eloquence that it is suited to strike powerfully upon 
 the minds of all, however different in genius, edu- 
 cation, or rank, I cannot but conclude that every 
 one here present, must already acknowledge these 
 •words to be a remarkable specimen of it, even be- 
 fore we proceed particularly to illustrate them; 
 and, having felt something of their pleasing energy 
 while we have been reading tliem, is ready to con- 
 fess that the sentiment they contain is finely con- 
 ceived and pathetically expressed. But ill shall 
 •we answer the great design of the apostle, if we rest 
 in the mere acknowledgment of this. His views 
 were much more worthy of him whose minister he 
 was : he laboured to diffuse, through the breasts of 
 his fellow-christians, that spirit of love, which was 
 in his own, as a constant spring of living water. 
 And what more convincing proof can be given of 
 the deplorable disorder of men's minds, than that 
 such addresses, proceeding from such a man, yea, 
 
 * Preached at a Ftieetinp: of Ministers at Creatoii in Northampton- 
 shire, January the 12th, 174!).50. 
 
 I will add, the yet more forcible address of his 
 Divine Master, and ours, should have produced so 
 little effect : that such discord and animosity should 
 so early, so long, I had almost said so universally, 
 prevail in the Christian church, amidst all the in- 
 centives, amidst all the entreaties, amidst all the 
 tender adjurations, as well as the godlike examples, 
 wliicli the sacred oracles exhibit to charm us into 
 the most endeared aflection. But alas, these incen- 
 tives, and entreaties, these adjurations, and ex- 
 amples, are overlooked, as not having lustre enough 
 to detain our attention ; for we too generally seem 
 to study our Bibles (if we study them at all) for 
 amusement or ostentation, rather than practical in- 
 struction. We fix on some curious incident or 
 high speculation, and are first ingenious to explain 
 it where it cannot be explained, and then impas- 
 sioned to defend it, as if it were fundamental truth, 
 till we beat out the sacred gold so thin, that every 
 breath of air carries it away : whilst the plain things 
 which tend to inspire a heavenly temper, and lead 
 us on to the most exalted goodness, are slightly 
 passed over ; as too obvious, and too vulgar, to en- 
 gage our attention or excite our emulation. Thus 
 we feed our pride by what was intended to humble 
 it, and make that the prize of mutual contention, 
 which was designed to be the band of love. 
 
 What wise man has not observed this? What 
 good man has not lamented it ? Yet, alas, who so 
 wise as in all instances to have avoided it? Whoso 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 887 
 
 good as to have exerted himself to the utmost to 
 cure it ? A cordial, however feehle, attempt of this 
 kind will now be made, and so powerful are the 
 arguments, so alluringthe motives, suggested in the 
 text, that if the spirit of wisdom and of love so 
 often, and I trust so sincerel}', invoked, may guide 
 our meditations upon them, we may cheerfully hope 
 for some valuable effects. 
 
 And happy will it indeed be, if he may teach us 
 to enter into these words with a temper like that 
 which the holy apostle St. Paul felt, when in his 
 bonds for the sake of the gospel, and particularly 
 for his zeal in asserting the calling and the liberty 
 of the Gentiles to whom he wrote, he addressed 
 them with this tender and pathetic entreaty : If 
 there be therefore any consolation in Christ, if an}' 
 comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if 
 any bowels and mercies, fulfil ye my joy; that ye 
 be like-minded, having the same love, being of one 
 accord, of oneT^ind. — It may be here proper to 
 inquire, 
 
 I. To what the apostle is endeavouring to per- 
 suade the Philippians. 
 
 II. To consider in how tender a manner he ad- 
 dresses them, and what a variety of affecting 
 arguments he pleads with them ; and then, 
 
 III. To conclude with some advices for maintain- 
 ing and cultivating the temper he so pathetically 
 recommends. 
 
 I attempt it, my reverend and dear brethren, with 
 the greater cheerfulness, as from long experience I 
 am persuaded, that all your hearts are one with 
 mine, in every effort to spread Christian love ; and 
 as that uninterrupted peace, and unalienated affec- 
 tion, which has so long reigned among ourselves 
 will not only dispose you to receive what I shall 
 say with unprejudiced minds, but will render it as 
 agreeable to you as it is in general needful to the 
 Christian world. Long have we beheld, and bless- 
 ed be God, long have we felt, how good and how 
 pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together 
 in unity : long has the odour of this precious oint- 
 ment filled our little tabernacles with its perfume. 
 May the dew descend on all the mountains of Sion, 
 and the Lord more abundantly command the bless- 
 ing, even life for evermore ! that life of which 
 fervent Christian love is the earnest, the foretaste, 
 the beginning ! 
 
 I. We are to inquire, to what it is that the apostle 
 endeavours so affectionately to persuade the Philip- 
 pians. And here I might observe, it is in the gene- 
 ral to fuljil his joy, and more particularly to do it 
 by cultivating unanimity and love. 
 
 1. He urges them in the general to fulfil his joy, 
 that is, to conduct themselves in such a manner as 
 might cause him greatly to rejoice. This was in 
 the general to I)c done by remembering their Chris- 
 tian character, and walking worthy of it, or, as he 
 
 expresses it in a few verses below, by working out 
 their salvation with fear and trembling, and by 
 keeping themselves blameless and harmless, and 
 acting as the children of God in the midst of a 
 crooked and perverse generation, that so they might 
 shine as lights in the world, and hold forth with ad- 
 vantage the word of life. Paul, like the beloved 
 disciple St. John, had no greater pleasure than to 
 see his children walking in the truth, and therefore 
 elsewhere says. We live, if ye stand fast in the Lord. 
 
 Now before we proceed to what is more peculiar 
 to our subject, let us pause for a few moments on 
 this edifying, this animating consideration. Let 
 us as it were, in our devout meditations, pay a visit 
 to this illustrious confessor in his chains at Rome, 
 for he was now a prisoner there, that we may learn 
 how his mind was employed in the midst of his con- 
 finement, his straits, and his sorrows, — to inquire 
 what would have afforded him the most sensible 
 joy, so far as others could be instruments of afford- 
 ing it ? Not that his eloquence should be admired, 
 or his necessities relieved, or his libert}' restored, 
 or his patience and magnanimity applauded, but 
 that his Christian converts might behave in charac- 
 ter ; that the honour of their profession, and their 
 own happiness, might be most effectually secured. 
 " Only let your conversation be as becomes the gos- 
 pel, and then if bonds and imprisonments await me, 
 yea, if I be offered upon the sacrifice and service of 
 your faith, I joy and rejoice with you all ; and I 
 call upon you also to congratulate me : for none of 
 these things move me, neither count I (in a cause 
 like this) even my life dear unto me." But it is 
 evident that, whatever may be comprehended in ful- 
 filling the apostle's joy, the phrase has a peculiar 
 reference to the method he prescribes, wherein they 
 might effect if, which we are next to consider. 
 
 2. He urges them to do it, by cultivating unani- 
 mity and love. 
 
 As we render the second verse, this must be the 
 sense of the whole : Be like-minded, having the 
 same love, of one accord, of one mind. Admitting 
 for the present this version, which I think may be 
 considerably improved, common sense will not 
 allow us to understand it as an exhortation, to be 
 all entirely of the same opinion in every religious 
 sentiment about which they might exercise their 
 inquiries. For considering the diversity of men's 
 capacities, and opportunities of improvement, that 
 is absolutely impossible. Had Paul condescended 
 to enter into the minutest detail of doctrines and 
 principles that can be imagined, had his form of 
 words been as artificial and elaborate, as that of 
 any scholastic divine, and his decrees as large as 
 those of the most voluminous councils and synods 
 of succeeding ages ; yet still, while tlic apprehen- 
 sions and understandings of men had continued of 
 a (lifferent size, different interpretations might have 
 
888 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 been put upon his words, even by good and lionest, 
 much more by designing and prevaricating, men ; 
 when interest on the one hand, and resentment on 
 the other, had given an edge to their invention. 
 Least of all could such an unanimity as we are now 
 speaking of, be cilected by mere entreaties ; and it 
 is very observable, we here meet with no arguments 
 or decisions, by which one doctrine is established 
 rather than another, about which there could be 
 any supposed diirerencc, or one speculative senti- 
 ment or disputed practice pointed out, in wliich 
 they are so earnestly exhorted to agree ; not now 
 to insist upon it, that where there was such a per- 
 fect uniformity, a peaceful disposition would have 
 been matter of very little praise, and might seem 
 only self-love diversified and reflected. 
 
 We are necessitated therefore, by the absurdity 
 of such an interpretation, especially in this con- 
 nexion, to seek out for another ; and we shall more 
 easily attain it in its greatest perspicuity, by a little 
 varying our version of the original words. 'Iva to 
 avTO ppovt]Ti Trjv avTt]v ayam)v ixovTtg, that ye may 
 be unanimous, maintaining the same love, avftxpvxoi 
 TO if (ppovsvTec, having your souls joined together in 
 attending to the one thing. On this interpretation, 
 it will be as if he had said " Be unanimous in af- 
 fection, if you cannot be so in opinion, agree on 
 cultivating the same love, however your judgments, 
 yea, and in some instances your i)ractices, may be 
 divided. And that you may be so cemented, let all 
 the ardour of your souls be combined in attending 
 more and more to the one great thing, which ought 
 to be the leading concern of every Christian, the 
 advancement of vital, practical holiness." This 
 might well be understood, though it was not parti- 
 cularly expressed and described, it being so ob- 
 vious to all that knew any thing of the gospel, that 
 it was the great design in which it centred ; and 
 Laving been spoken of by our Lord, in a very ce- 
 lebrated oracle, under the title of the one thing 
 needful. 
 
 And in this view we may consider the apostle as 
 addressing himself, not only to his friends at Plii- 
 lippi, but to all Christians of every nation and age : 
 and thus supported by his authority, I may address 
 you, my brethren, that hear me this day, whether in 
 the ministry or in private life. 
 
 To agree in our sentiments as to every point of 
 doctrine or discipline, or as to the authority or 
 expediency of every rite of worship that may be in 
 question, is absolutely impossible. The best of 
 men differ; their understandings difler; various as- 
 .sociations have been accidentally formed, and dif- 
 ferent principles have been innocently, and perhaps 
 devoutly, admitted, which, even in a course of just 
 and sensible reasoning, must necessarily lead to 
 different concliisions. Accordingly we find that in 
 this age, enlightened as it is, (and so far as the age 
 
 of literature can go, I am persuaded no age was 
 ever more enlightened,) the wisest and the best of 
 men at home and abroad have pleaded the cause 
 on either side of various questions, which to both 
 have seemed important, without being able to pro- 
 duce conviction. The event of many a voluminous 
 controversy has been this ; that men of contrary 
 parlies have sat down more attached to their own 
 opinions than they were at the beginning, and much 
 more estranged in their affections : the champions 
 something sore with the rough usage they have 
 mutually received in the combat, and the partisans 
 of each so heinously displeased, at the obstinacy of 
 their brethren, in refusing to yield to such unan- 
 swerable arguments, that they can hardly now con- 
 descend to own them for brethren. And when this 
 is the case, what is further to be done? The laws 
 of human nature, the laws of Christ, will not per- 
 mit of force on either side ; and blessed be God, the 
 laws of our country forbid it too, which if they did 
 not, I much fear that neither the voice of nature or 
 Scripture would be heard by many. Since then 
 after all that has been said, or that can be said, we 
 must live together, let us, by every consideration of 
 prudence and of tenderness, be entreated to live 
 not only in peace but in love, in a free intercourse 
 of all the good offices in our power, as well as with 
 a strict care not to injure and afllict eacli otiier by 
 unkind treatment, or censures unnecessarily harsh. 
 Truth is indeed too sacred a thing ever to be denied 
 on any consideration ; and so far as we are in our 
 own consciences persuaded that any particular truth 
 is important, neither honour nor charity will allow 
 us to give it up, as a point of mere indifferent spe- 
 culation. Let us therefore ever be ready, when 
 properly called out to the service, to plead its cause 
 in the name of the God of truth ; but let it be in a 
 manner worthy of him, a manner which may not 
 offend him as the God of love. And let us be 
 greatly upon our guard that we do not condemn our 
 brethren, as having forfeited all title to the name 
 of Christians, because their creeds or confessions of 
 faith do not come up to the standard of our own. 
 Yea, if it were in a matter which seemed of so great 
 importance as to give us some room to suspect that 
 the mistake were fatal, (which surely nothing can 
 be that does not greatly affect men's temper and 
 conduct towards God and each other,) even that 
 consideration should engage us to gentleness and 
 tenderness, rather than severity to them ; if perad- 
 venture our friendly and respectful carriage may 
 gain such a happy ascendant over their minds, as 
 to remove tlieir prejudices against our reasons: for 
 the reasons in such important matters must surely 
 be so forcible, that nothing but very strong preju- 
 dices could obstruct their efficacy; prejudices too, 
 which on our own principles, we may endanger their 
 souls by increasing. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 889 
 
 But where we and our brethren agree in attend- 
 ing to the one thing which Christianity was designed 
 to teach us ; surely an agreement in that should 
 unite our minds, more than any difference, consist- 
 ent with that agreement, should divide them. To 
 reverence with fdial duty and love the God of 
 heaven, and to adore him with integrity of heart; to 
 honour Jesus his Son, as the brightest image, sub- 
 scribing to the truth of all he is known to have 
 revealed, and the authority of all he is apprehended 
 to command ; conscientiously to abstain from every 
 known evil, and to practise, so far as human 
 infirmity will permit, the comprehensive precepts 
 of living soberly, righteously, and godly ; still 
 looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto 
 eternal life, assuredly expecting a future judgment, 
 and an eternal world, carefully endeavouring to 
 prepare for both, by setting the affections on those 
 great objects, which the gospel opens to our view ; 
 and finally being habitually ready to sacrifice life 
 and all its enjoyments, to that blessed hope; — this, 
 this, my brethren, is the essential character of every 
 Christian, and where we see this, should we esteem 
 it a didlcult thing to live peaceably with him in 
 whom we discern it ? Should we arrogate it to 
 ourselves as any high praise, that we do not censure, 
 that we do not grieve, that we do not injure him, 
 because he follows not us ? Is this the man to be 
 hated or suspected, I will add, can we refuse to 
 esteem and embrace him, merely because he wor- 
 ships in another assembly, or according to a different 
 form, because he expresses his apprehensions about 
 some of these doctrines in different words, because 
 he cannot see all that we think we discern in some 
 passages of Scripture, or because he imagines he sees 
 something which we discern not? Is it after all so 
 great a matter, to love a character, which, amidst all 
 its imperfections, is in the general so justly amiable ? 
 Nay, instead of thinking much of any acts of kind- 
 ness, which it is in our power to perform for such 
 a fellow-disciple, ought we not rather to lament 
 that we can do no more for his service ? Ought we 
 not to endeavour rather to supply in our fervent 
 prayers to God the lack of that further service, 
 which Christian benevolence dictates, but which 
 the narrow limits of our condition and our nature 
 will not allow us to perform ? 
 
 Methinks the matter might safely be rested here, 
 and that tlie very description of Christian charity, 
 and its proper objects, might engage every heart to 
 cultivate it. Nor is it easy to expatiate beyond 
 the just boundary of such an argument. But I 
 should be inexcusable, if while I have this text 
 before me, I should deprive you of the pleasure 
 which every benevolent mind must undoubtedly 
 feel, in contemplating, what we arc to consider, 
 
 II. In how tender a manner the apostle addresses 
 himself to these Christians, and conjures them to 
 
 cultivate the temper he had been recommending. 
 And no words but his own will so properly repre- 
 sent this. He pleads the consolation of Clirist, the 
 comfort of love, the fellowship of the Spirit, the 
 bowels of mercy. Considerations, whicli if I can but 
 illustrate, there will be little occasion to enforce 
 them by any arguments of my own. 
 
 1. He pleads with them the consolation of Christ. 
 
 This most strongly implies, that many important 
 consolations arise from him, and that they will all, 
 properly regarded, conspire in disposing us to mu- 
 tual love. 
 
 That numberless consolations do indeed flow to 
 the true believer from the Lord Jesus Clirist, is too 
 obvious to need being proved at large. Yet, O how 
 delightful would it be, to attempt a little to illus- 
 trate the point, if my time would permit ! How de- 
 lightful to speak of the genuine and strong conso- 
 lation to he derived from the offices he bears, — 
 from the benefits he imparts,. — and from the figures 
 under which he is represented in Scripture ! 
 
 How delightful would it be to me to speak, and 
 to you to hear, of this faithful and infallible Prophet, 
 who brings us so complete a revelation of the divine 
 will, in so plain and so condescending a manner! 
 Of this great High Priest, holy, harmless, undefiled, 
 who made his own life our sacrifice ; who is now, in 
 virtue of it, interceding in our favour before the 
 throne of God, and lives for ever to attend this 
 friendly important office ! Of our most gracious 
 Sovereign, who rules with consummate wisdom and 
 proportionable goodness ; and is ever ready to ex- 
 ert the power with which he is invested at the right 
 hand of God, to defend us from every evil, and 
 to make us more than conquerors over his enemies 
 and our own! Of that kind Surety who has under- 
 taken our cause, and paid off our dreadful debt, 
 that he might rescue us from that jirison from 
 whence there is no redemption ! Of that compassion- 
 rite Shepherd, who having generously given his life 
 for the sheep, folds the weakest of the flock in his 
 gracious arms, and carries the lambs in his bosom ! 
 
 And where should I bound my discourse, if I 
 were to speak of those consolations, which flow 
 from the benefits that Christ liestows ? from the 
 pardon he pro(;iaiins, the complete pardon of the 
 most aggravated sins? from the peace which he 
 restores to our troubled consciences f from the 
 cures he performs on the diseased powers of our 
 natures? from the strength he diffuses through the 
 enfeebled soul ? from the joys which his cheering 
 Spirit gives, and the delightf'.il prospect which his 
 gospel opens ; which it opens not merely with re- 
 spe(;t to tiie happy spirit, wlien it has shaken off 
 this burthen of flesh and blood, and springs to its 
 blessed associates in the intermediate state ; but 
 especially after the resurrection, when inhabiting 
 a glorious, a spiritual, a vigorous, and incorruptible 
 
88a 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 body, fashioned .nftcr the model of his blessed Re- 
 deemer, the complete man shall be for ever witli the 
 Lonl ? 
 
 These views. Sirs, will jtistifv all the liveliest and 
 most beautiful figures, under which so glorious and 
 adorable a Saviour is described in Scripture : As 
 the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys ; as 
 the bread of life that comes down from heaven ; 
 as the true vine ; as the pearl of great price ; as 
 the cleansing fountain ; as the shady rock ; as the 
 morning star ; as the sun of righteousness. Nay, 
 must I not add, these views will teach us as it were 
 to rail for a new creation to open upon us ; to call 
 for something fairer than roses and lilies, richer than 
 pearls, sweeter than manna, more generous than the 
 richest productions of tlie vine, more refresiiing 
 than shades or streams, yea, brighter than stars, or 
 the sun itself, to set forth the glory of Jesus, and 
 describe the consolations which flow to our souls 
 from him. 
 
 But you recollect to what purpose these consola- 
 tions are here mentioned ; that by them we might 
 be entreated to mutual love. And O how forcible 
 is the conclusion ! The consciousness of happiness 
 sweetens and exalts the soul, it makes it capable of 
 nobler and more generous sentiments, especially 
 when happiness, like this of ours, is conferred on 
 those that w-ere once the children of misery ; and 
 conferred, not by merit, but by rich compassionate 
 bounty, by overflowing grace and mercy. That 
 must be a mean and stubborn soul indeed, which is 
 not melted with such goodness, and which is not 
 full of a desire to impart what it has so freely re- 
 ceived. 
 
 Especially may these consolations operate here, 
 when we consider those who are recommended to 
 our benevolent affections, as sharing in them with 
 ourselves. Wliere, the full communication to all 
 leaving no room for envy, the thoughts of being 
 joint-proprietors must naturally be a source of 
 love : for every one vt ho is admitted to a share in 
 these blessings is honoured and adorned by them ; 
 is not only exhibited to us as the object of our Re- 
 deemer's love, which surely should greatly recom- 
 mend him to ours, but is made lovely in consequence 
 of it, and that with this further important and en- 
 dearing circumstance, that he is destined by our 
 glorious Master to dwell with us and with him, in a 
 world of final and everlasting felicity. Let our 
 souls enter into the attractive thought. However 
 we now be divided, if we are indeed the members 
 of Christ, one tem|)le sliall at length contain us, 
 one anthem shall at length unite our voices, one ob- 
 ject of supreme love for ever (ill, and by filling ce- 
 ment, our hearts. Such consolations have we in 
 Christ, such are the engagements in love which 
 result from them, uniting to display what we are 
 secondly to consider. 
 
 2. The comfort of love, which the apostle urges 
 as a distinct argument. And certainly there is 
 great comfort in it, comfort too great and too sweet 
 to be displayed in one single branch of a discourse, 
 and which 1 rather wish you may all learn by ex- 
 perience than by report, wiiich at the best must be 
 very imperfect. But it is most obvious these com- 
 forts are powerful and divine. Love not only 
 guards the mind from the furious and diabolical 
 passions of rage, envy, malice, and revenge, which 
 tear it like a whirlwind, which corrode it like a 
 cancer, which consume it like rottenness in the 
 bones, but fills it with a thousand gentle and pleas- 
 ing sensations. Love distils a fragrant balm into 
 the soul, that, while it heals the wound which con- 
 trary passions have made, diffuses a most grateful 
 and reviving perfume, most justly compared, in the 
 passage I referred to above, to the ointment poured 
 on Aaron's head, or the refreshing dew descending 
 on Hermon and Sion, and making all the country 
 between them to share in its copious blessings. 
 
 Who can enjoy himself even in the greatest 
 plenty, while his heart is full of unkind passions to 
 any, especially to his brethren? Who could rest in 
 a palace amidst such disturbers, far more intoler- 
 able than the swarms of flies that infested Pharaoh's 
 gilded roof, or the frogs that came up to the very 
 chambers of the king ? But a benevolent and gene- 
 rous heart will make the plainest accommodations 
 delightful, and as Solomon, who was so exquisitely 
 acquainted with human nature, testifies, will ren- 
 der a dinner of herbs where love is, better than a 
 stalled ox, and hatred, rancour, and malice with it. 
 Hatred has torment, more sensible than fear ; tor- 
 ment sufficient to turn heaven itself into hell, as it 
 in a manner did, before those wretched spirits, who 
 first entertained it, were by God's righteous judg- 
 ment driven out from thence. But love, joined 
 with that fervent devotion which so well agrees 
 with it, and indeed is inspired by it, will turn the 
 meanest and most incommodious dwelling on earth 
 into a paradise, yea, into the delightful antici- 
 pations of heaven itself. And therefore has a gra- 
 cious God, though liis own felicity is perfectly 
 independent on the greatest height of our love, or 
 the most total deficiency of it, required us to love 
 himself, and to love one another, that we might con- 
 tinually feel the noblest pleasure, a pleasure like 
 that which he feels in the consciousness of his own 
 most perfect goodness, and in the survey of his 
 creatures as made happy by it : and I hope I offend 
 not in adding, a pleasure, which, as our natures are 
 constituted. Omnipotence itself could not communi- 
 cate to us in any other vehicle but that of love. But 
 we must not forget the third topic of argument whiclr 
 the apostle pleads. 
 
 3. The fellowship of the Spirit. Now, it is im- 
 plied PC, the foundation of this argument, that all 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 891 
 
 Christians do indeed partake of one spirit. As the 
 apostle expresses it, By one Spirit we are all bap- 
 tized into one body, and have all been made to 
 drink into one Spirit ; and this is pleaded as an 
 endearing consideration, not only here, but else- 
 where, Keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of 
 peace, — there is one Spirit. And it is indeed so. 
 Hereby we become members one of another, we are 
 one body, as animated by one spirit. It is also the 
 gift of Christ as our common head, and given that it 
 may adorn us, and by so adorning may unite us : as 
 indeed what can render the soul more amiable than 
 to be animated, to be impregnated with the Spirit, 
 whose fruits are so celestial and divine ? Hear how 
 the apostle, in whom it so eminently reigned, re- 
 presents its effects, The fruit of the Spirit is love, 
 joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, 
 faith, meekness, temperance ; and surely these 
 fruits, fair as they appear when considered in 
 themselves, must render those who possess them so 
 much the more amiable, when considered as pro- 
 ceeding from this sacred principle : for thus they 
 render the persons who possess them venerable ; 
 and we the more easily love where we greatly 
 esteem. Does not the Holy Spirit himself disdain 
 to descend and dwell in such souls, and there to 
 plant these noble and glorious fruits, and shall I 
 disdain them? Shall all the rich treasure that he 
 has lodged there, go for nothing witli me, because 
 I he has not added this or that circumstance ? be- 
 cause he has not taught them to judge exactly 
 with me, and inclined them to worship with me? 
 Surely, to argue thus would be to grieve and afl'ront 
 this Spirit of goodness. And let us not think to 
 secure ourselves by saying they have it not. On 
 men apparently sensual, cruel, and wicked, we 
 may indeed pass this censure, whatever their reli- 
 gious profession may be : but where appearances 
 
 I are fair, we should be cautious of drawing such a 
 conclusion ; should rather be ready to suspect our- 
 
 I selves, and say, " Have I indeed the Spirit of God, 
 the Spirit of wisdom, of candour, of love, when I 
 thus judge my brethren, when in lionour I prefer 
 my.self to them ? When I say, let me take the mote 
 out of thine eye, and consider not the beam that is 
 in mine own ?" Let us not thus grieve the Holy 
 Spirit of God, if we desire to preserve any hope of 
 being sealed by it to the day of redemption. The 
 sense and the force of this argument is apparent ; 
 though it may perhaps be a little difficult precisely 
 
 ( to fix that of the next, to which we must now pro- 
 
 I ueed. 
 
 j 4. He pleads the bowels of mercies ; for bowels 
 and mercies are not to be undenstood as signifying 
 
 I different things, but, by a usual Hebraism, bowels 
 of mercy, that is, the tenderest compassion, by 
 which the bowels are struck and cau.scd to yearn: 
 and the general meaning to be sure is, if ye have 
 
 learned the compassion of Christians. This implies, 
 that it was intended that Christians should be com- 
 passionate. If there are bowels in human nature, 
 how much more tenderly must they move when in- 
 structed by the holy discipline of the gospel ! This 
 the genius of our religion very evidently shows ; as 
 it gives us so many precepts of compassion, and as 
 it gives us so bright an example of it, in him whose 
 whole history is the history of compassion and love. 
 And need I name him to you ? O Sirs, from whom 
 can we learn this lesson, if not from Jesus the Son 
 of God, whose pity for us, for our otherwise hope- 
 less ruin, brought him down from his exalted 
 glory, clothed him in these mean garments of mortal 
 flesh, which we wear, and when it had made him a 
 man, made him a sacrifice too, and triumphed over 
 all the agony, and all the infamy, of the cross, that 
 it might raise us to life and glory ? O let us study 
 this generous compassionate love in its various cir- 
 cumstances, till every stern and stubborn passion 
 be subdued in our hearts, till we feel our souls 
 melted into streams of love, and disposed to put on 
 the Lord Jesus Christ ; for greater love has no man 
 than this, that a man should lay down his life for 
 his friend, and yet wlien we were enemies Chris* 
 died for us. 
 
 But it is possible St. Paul might mean particu- 
 larly to apply to their Christian compassion for him, 
 as if he had said ; " If on the whole you pity the 
 load of affliction under which I am lying, for tlie 
 gospel, and would not grieve me yet more than all 
 my enemies can distress me; if you would rather 
 comfort and support me under what I suffer for 
 them, show it thus. Let Paul amidst all his labours 
 and sorrows have this joy, that you love one ano- 
 ther; that you are ready to every kind and friendly 
 action, and show a true Christian magnanimity, as 
 well as gentleness of mind, in looking iiigher than 
 those things which are so often the causes of dis- 
 cord, to the great consideration which have so 
 strong a tendency to unite us." 
 
 Such, my dear brethren and friends, such are 
 the arguments whirli .St. Paul urges, and let us en- 
 deavour to retain a sense of them upon our hearts. 
 Let me, as it were, adjure as many of you as hear 
 me this day, by the consolations of Christ, if 
 they are sweet to you, by his odices, by his bene- 
 fits, by all tlic representations which the Scripture 
 makes of him, by the endearing tenderness and 
 delight of this most noble godlike afl'ection of the 
 liuman mind, by the love of that Holy .Spirit which 
 unites us into one body, and is, as it were, the com- 
 mon soul of it, by all the compassions which as 
 {Christians you ought to feel for cacli other, and we 
 the ministers of (Jhrist would add, (if that may 
 avail any thing, as surely it may,) by all your com- 
 passions to us, if we may indeed pretend to any 
 merit with you, for all that we do, or for all that we 
 
89-2 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 resifin, upon your account, for all our most all'cc- 
 tioimto care lor your eclilicafion, m orkin;? frequently 
 by nig:lit as well as by tlay, attcndin<v us into every 
 place, and every service public or private ; an 
 allection wliich I hope, and I trust in the Lord, 
 would bear us cheerfully to bonds and imprison- 
 ments, or to death itself for your establishment in 
 our common faith. If any of these considerations, 
 if all of tliem united, can have any weiglit, be 
 unanimous, liavinfi your minds joined in the same 
 love, and attending to the one tiling: thus fulfil ye 
 our joy, which is herein the joy of our common 
 Lord too, and which will be your joy, amidst the 
 various inconveniences inseparable from mortal life. 
 Cultivate more and more that lovely principle, 
 whicii having ennobled as well as delighted your 
 spirits, having rendered you the ornament of reli- 
 gion, and dear in the eyes of men and of (Jod, will 
 prepare you for, and through the grace of the Re- 
 deemer transmit you to, the regions of everlasting 
 love, and will there continue for ever to delight and 
 adorn you, when faith and hope shall cease, and all 
 our present causes of contention shall be long for- 
 got. But I would hope you feel the force of these 
 motives, and begin to be impatient for those advices 
 for maintaining and promoting this blessed temper, 
 vvhicli I gave you reason, 
 
 5. To expect at the conclusion of this Discourse. 
 And here, as I intend ratiier to suggest some useful 
 and comprehensive hints, than to expatiate upon 
 them, I shall not range them under distinct heads, 
 but offer them briefly as they rose in my mind. 
 
 It will be one step towards attaining this excel- 
 lent temper, " earnestly to desire to attain it." And 
 that we may, let us often reflect w ith ourselves how 
 amiable and how excellent it is ! What an ornament, 
 and indeed, with all its meekness and tenderness, 
 what a defence, to true Christianity ! Let us accustom 
 ourselves to think, so far as our best information 
 reaches, what the face of the Christian church has 
 in fact been, amidst all the mutual animosities that 
 have reigned among its members ; and, on the 
 other hand, let us try to imagine what it would 
 have been, if that pacific, gentle, beneficent tem- 
 per which the gospel recommends had constantly, 
 had generally, been prevalent, and every angry, 
 turbulent, malignant thought and passion, had been 
 brought into sweet subjection to the laws of Christ. 
 But who can make the computation, whether we 
 consider its aspect on present or on future happi- 
 ness ? Who can calculate how widely Christianity 
 would have been spread, while the admiring world 
 had been charmed by so bright a light, had been 
 melted by so celestial a flame? Who can imagine 
 what delights had sprung up in every breast, and 
 how they had been multiplied by reflection from 
 each ? Above all, who can conceive how large a 
 colony the regions of perfect love and blessedness 
 
 would have received from the peopled earth; a 
 colony increased by how many thousands and mil- 
 lions of those, who, filled with rancour and hatred, 
 are now alas gone down to final destruction, and 
 feel an hell of malignant passions within, which 
 will be matter of everlasting torment to themselves, 
 and all their wretched companions. 
 
 " Let us often think of the meekness and gentle- 
 ness of Christ and of his apostles," particularly of 
 St. Paul, and render familiar to our minds the 
 many candid maxims, and principles, with which 
 his writings abound. Let us remember, as he has 
 admonished us, that the kingdom of God is not 
 meat and drink, but righteousness and peace and 
 joy in the Holy Ghost. That as for some particular 
 ritual observances, though the iinposilion of them 
 must indeed be displeasing to God, yet the practice 
 or the omission does not affect our share in his 
 favour, if conscience be not violated. Neither if 
 we eat are we the better, neither if we eat not are 
 we the worse. Let us remember the very same 
 principle, and that a very good one, indeed the very 
 best of all principles, the desire of pleasing God, 
 may, to persons under different apprehensions, pro- 
 duce a quite different conduct. He that regards a 
 day may regard it to the Lord, and as for him that 
 regards not a day, it may be out of a conscientious 
 regard to the Lord that he does not regard it. 
 When we are tempted to make our own taste and 
 relish the standard to which all our brethren should 
 bow, let us remember that Christ pleased not him- 
 self; and, when we are ready on the one hand to 
 judge our brethren, or on the other hand to despise 
 them, let us call up to our assistance that awful 
 tribunal before which we are all in a little time to 
 appear, that the account we have to give of our- 
 selves to Christ may awe our spirits, and restrain 
 us from that severity on our part, wliich might seem 
 to challenge a severity on his, which the best of us 
 could never be able to support under. 
 
 " If unkind thoughts against our brethren arise 
 in our minds, let us suppress them," for by being 
 vented they gain strength, and one injury is apt to 
 beget another. If therefore we are obliged, as we 
 sometimes may be, to plead the cause of truth and 
 of liberty, though our antagonists may possibly give 
 us great personal advantages against them, yet let 
 us not be too ready to take or even to observe tiiein, 
 but let us rather show a noble superiority to in- 
 jurious usage, and learn to answer confidence and 
 petulance, censoriousness and severity, with calm- 
 ness and gentleness, with reasonings indeed as 
 strong as possible, but with a resolute guard upon 
 our tempers ; lest we become like those whom we 
 blame, and condemn, in what is their folly, and will 
 upon the whole be the disadvantage of their cause ; 
 for whatever little turn it may for the present serve, 
 it will of course recoil upon them at last, and the 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 893 
 
 inore strongly when it seems to do it by its own 
 natural spring, while we are too generous to urge it 
 to the last extremity. 
 
 " Let those of us who appear under public cha- 
 racters, be very careful that we do not on any oc- 
 casion passionately inveigh against our brethren, 
 and especially in religious assemblies." Thus to 
 abuse the sacred and important moments, which we 
 spend immediately in the divine presence, thus to 
 pervert the great design of Christian ordinances, 
 and make them the vehicle of such malignant pas- 
 sions, is equally affronting to God and pernicious 
 to men. It is calling the sheep of Christ together 
 to be poisoned under a pretence of feeding them. 
 Alas, too inflammable are the passions of men in 
 this degenerate state of nature, and too many are 
 the unavoidable occasions of offence. It is not 
 necessary that the ministers of Christ should abet 
 their fury, and if I may be indulged in the expres- 
 sion, tear out some of the most important leaves of 
 the book of God, to give fire to the fatal train. 
 
 It is always proper to be upon our guard here, 
 and " it is never more necessary than when the 
 petulance and bigotry of others has given the ex- 
 ample and begun the attack." Nature will be 
 roused on such provocation, and is ready to spring 
 forward, and enter into the contention with a fierce 
 deliglit : but it will be our surest wisdom in all such 
 cases, " to leave it off before it be meddled with," 
 remembering our relation to him who endured the 
 contradiction of sinners against himself, and being 
 reviled, reviled not again, but in calm silence com- 
 mitted himself to Him that judgeth righteously. 
 
 Permit me to add, that " in proportion to the 
 degree in which God has distinguished any from 
 their brethren by peculiar abilities, or more eminent 
 services, they should be so much the more careful 
 to distinguish themselves by meekness and candour." 
 As James expresses it, whoso is a wise man, and 
 endowed with distinguishing knowledge among 
 you, let him especially illustrate his meekness of 
 j wisdom. The lowest understanding, the meanest 
 I education, the most contemptible abilities, may 
 suffice to give hard names, and to pronounce severe 
 censures. A harsh anathema may be learnt by 
 heart, and furiously repeated by one that could 
 scarce read it, and, as was in truth the case in some 
 ancient councils, may be signed by those that can- 
 not write their names. But true Catholicism of 
 temper is a more liberal thing, it proceeds from 
 j more enlarged views, it argues a superior greatness 
 of mind, and a riper knowledge of men and things. 
 And the man who is blessed with such advantages 
 ' should be so much the more solicitous, that he does 
 ' not on any provocation add the weight of his 
 example to so bad a cause as that of uncharitable- 
 ness always is. He owes it to God and to the 
 world that such an influence be employed to the 
 
 happy purposes of healing the wounds of the Chris- 
 tian church, and of conciliating the affections of 
 good and worthy men towards each other, till their 
 united counsels can regulate its disorders, and 
 restore to it a form more worthy of itself. 
 
 " All these precautions will be more easy to us, 
 in proportion to the degree in which we lal our with 
 our own hearts, to subdue the inward workings of 
 pride and vain-glory." And for this purpose let 
 us often review the too voluminous history of our 
 own miscarriages in conduct, and mistakes in 
 judgment; and it will make us less confident in 
 ourselves, less severe and overbearing in our 
 treatment or censures of others. On the other 
 hand, let us look upon the excellences of our bre- 
 thren rather than their defects, and let it always be 
 the joy of our hearts to dwell in our thoughts upon 
 what is beautiful, rather than what is exception- 
 able ; and to trace, especially in those whose ad- 
 .vantages for them may seem to have been inferior 
 to our own, the evidences of wisdom and humanity, 
 of benevolence, and piety. For this purpose, it is 
 much to be desired that Christians of different sects, 
 while this diversity must subsist among us, should 
 be ready as Providence gives them opportunity to 
 form acquaintance with each other, and also that 
 their reading should not be confined merely to 
 authors of their own sentiments, which often feeds 
 bigotry, and shuts out candour at its first entrance. 
 An enlarged acquaintance will infallibly convince 
 us that all truth and goodness is not confined to one 
 denomination of Christians, nor among the patrons 
 of any of those opinions, for which we have been 
 inclined most eagerly to contend. Now when we 
 are persuaded of another, that (Jod has received 
 him, we shall be more cautious how we presume 
 either to judge or despise him, and when we see 
 excellency in so many respects superior to our own, 
 we shall not exalt ourselves highly on the advantage 
 we enjoy in being, as we must indeed suppose we 
 are, right, in that particular in which we are 
 obliged to difl'cr from persons we so highly esteem. 
 Perhaps, said one of the greatest and most excellent 
 men our country has ever produced, I mean Mr. 
 Howe ; " Perhaps the reason why, in some dis|)ut- 
 able points, I have seen further than some of my 
 brethren, is, because their more elevated minds 
 have been employed on greater and nobler objects, 
 which has prevented their looking so minutely into 
 these particular questions."* 
 
 By such means as these I hope something may be 
 done towards mending the appearance of things 
 among us, and reconciling the hearts of contending 
 Christians to each other, especially if we do not 
 insist too rigorously on the history of former 
 wrongs and injuries; for which we have all too 
 
 * N. B. I well rnincrnbfr this to [«• the sciilimoMt, hui not having 
 marked the ii^rticiilar |i.tssagc, I cannot lie ritrl.iin as to tlic words. 
 
894 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 much reason to blush, nor nnwarrantably charge 
 the iniquities of the fathers upon the children. 
 
 There is great reason to hope that the endeavour 
 of every single person in his station to promote 
 mutual union and love by methods like these, will 
 in some degree be ell'cctual ; nor let iis be dis- 
 couraged, though it be not immediately successful, 
 to the full extent of our wishes. 
 
 It may too justly be said, with regard to the evils 
 with which we are to contend, in such a case, that 
 the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the chil- 
 dren's teeth are set on edge. Too many have from 
 their tenderest years been taught to place a part of 
 their religion in the severity with which they cen- 
 sure their brethren, and a peccant humour, so early 
 wrought into the constitution, will not easily be 
 subdued by the most sovereign medicines. That 
 very reflection, however, should teach us " to take 
 great heed that we do not convey unkind prejudices 
 into the minds of the rising generation," but that 
 youth be educated among us in more open and 
 generous sentiments, that they be taught to re- 
 verence true Christianity wheresoever they see it, 
 and to judge of it by essentials rather than circum- 
 stantials. Let this be our care, and it is more than 
 probable, that our children may rejoice in the shade 
 and fruit of these trees of righteousness, which our 
 
 hands have planted, and I liope it is not a vain 
 presage that it will be so ; for, blessed be God, the 
 present season is mild and favourable to such an 
 attempt, and I am persuaded none living have seen 
 a crisis, which seemed more encouraging and in- 
 viting to these Ia))ours of love. 
 
 But here, as in every other respect, neither is he 
 that planteth any thing, nor he that watereth ; but 
 God that giveth the increase. " Him therefore let 
 us humbly and earnestly invoke, for the benign 
 influences of his Holy Spirit ;" whose great oHiee it 
 is to heal and sweeten, to purify and elevate, the 
 mind, and in every sense, to take away the stony, 
 and to produce and cherish the tender, heart. And 
 O may the God of the spirits of all flesh, the God 
 and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is the 
 author of peace, and lover of concord, hear the 
 prayers in which our hearts would unite with all 
 our brethren ; humbly interceding for the pros- 
 perity of the universal church: "That it maybe 
 so guided and governed by his good Spirit, that all 
 who profess and call themselves Christians, may 
 be led into the way of truth, and hold the faith once 
 delivered to the saints in unity of Spirit, in the 
 bond of peace, and in righteousness of life, through 
 Jesus Christ." Amen. 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 THE EVIL AND DANGER OF NEGLECTING MEN'S SOULS.* 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Associated Protestant Dissenting Ministers, in the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk, ■particularly 
 those with whom the author had an interview at Denton, June 30th, 1741. 
 
 Gentlemex, 
 
 My Reverend Fathers and Brethren, and much esteemed Friends, 
 The condescending respect, and endeared afl'ection, with which you were pleased to receive me, in my 
 late visit to your parts, and the very great satisfaction which I found in your company at Denton, and 
 elsewhere, have left a very delightful memorial on my heart, and have impressed those unfeigned senti- 
 ments of gratitude and esteem, wliich it would be painful to suppress. Most gladly therefore do I take 
 this method, in a few words, publicly to avow them: and I sincerely congratulate the happy societies, 
 respectively under your care, who statedly enjoy the benefit of those valuable labours, a little taste of 
 which gave me an exquisite pleasure, beyond what it is possible for me fully to express. 
 
 Nevertheless, desirous as I am of erecting some little monument of thankful friendship, I should not 
 
 ♦ Preached at a meeting of ministers at Kettering in Norttiamptonsliire, October the IStli, 1741. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 895 
 
 have attempted it by inscribing this plain Sermon to you ; unless the subject of it had been such, as 
 peculiarly suited your perusal ; and, if I may be permitted to say it, amidst all its imperfections, your 
 patronage too. 
 
 No doubt, many of you. Gentlemen, remember, that after the public worship at Denton was over, on 
 that memorable day, which I shall always number among the most delightful of my whole life, you were 
 pleased, toward the evening, to indulge me in the liberty of a private conference, in which I laid before 
 you some hints of a scheme, which I was then forming for the revival of religion in our parts ; a scheme, 
 which you were pleased, in the general, to approve, and, in several particulars, to ripen, by your prudent 
 and valuable counsels. 
 
 Greatly encouraged by the sanction which your concurrence gave to the plan ; and also by that which 
 it received from the approbation of some of the most eminent London ministers, of difl'erent denomina- 
 tions, to whom I had an opportunity of communicating it on my return home ; I proposed it in general 
 to my reverend and worthy brethren in these parts, at a meeting of ministers, which was held here at 
 Northampton, about the middle of August. The proposals were, in the general, very well received ; and 
 it was agreed to take them into a more particular consideration in a conference, at our next assembly, to 
 be held at Kettering, on Thursday, the loth of October. 
 
 To that conference, Gentlemen, the Sermon with which I now present you, was introductory ; and the 
 result of it was, that the heads of the scheme I had concerted with you at Denton, with a few other parti- 
 culars which had not then occurred to my thoughts, were unanimously approved ; and we are taking 
 proper measures for carrying them into execution. And, as this Discourse may fall into the hands of 
 some, who may be curious to know what the particulars were ; and as I bore them so frequently in my 
 thoughts, through many passages of my Sermon, I shall take the freedom here to give an account of them, 
 though, I doubt not, but the most material of them are fresh in your memories. 
 
 It seemed most agreeable to the deference due to the reverend assembly, to propose the scheme in the 
 form of queries ; on which the following resolutions were formed, neminc contradicente : 
 
 I. That it may tend to the advancement of religion, that the ministers of tiiis association, if they have 
 not very lately done it, should agree to preach one liOrd's day on family religion, and another on secret 
 prayer ; and that the time should be fixed, in humble hope that concurrent labours, connected with con- 
 current petitions to the throne of grace, might produce some happy efl'ect. 
 
 II. That it is proper, that pastoral visiting should be more solemnly attended to; and that greater care 
 should be taken in personal inspection, than has generally been used. And that it may conduce to this 
 good end, that each minister should take an exact survey of his ilock, and note down the names of the 
 heads of families, the children, the servants, and other single persons in his auditory, in order to keep 
 proper memorandums concerning each ; that he may judge the better of the particulars of his duty 
 with regard to every one, and may observe how his visits, exhortations, and admonitions, correspond to 
 their respective characters and circumstances. 
 
 III. That conse(iuent on this surv ey, it will be proper as soon as possible, and henceforward at least once 
 a year, to visit, if it be practicable, every head of a family under our ministerial care, with a solemn 
 charge to attend to the business of religion, in their hearts, and houses, watching over their domestics 
 in the fear of the Lord, we, at the same time, professing our readiness to give them all proper assistances 
 for this purpose. 
 
 IV. That it will be highly expedient, immediately, or as soon as may be, to set up the work of cate- 
 chising, in one form or another, and to keep to it statedly for one half of the year at Ica.st : and that it is 
 probable, future counsels may ripen some scheme for carrying on this work, in a manner which may 
 tend greatly to the propagation of real, vital, catholic Christianity in the rising generation. 
 
 V. That there is reason to apprehend there are, in all our congregations, some pious and valuable 
 persons, who live in a culpable neglect of the Lord's supper ; and that it is our duty, particularly to 
 inform ourselves who they are, and to endeavour, by our i)rayers to God, and our s(;rious address to 
 them, to introduce them into communion ; (to which, I question not, we shall all willingly add ;) cautiously 
 guarding against any thing in the methods of admission, which may justly discourage sincere Christians 
 of a tender and timorous temper. 
 
 V I. That it is to be feared, there arc some, in several of our communions at lea.st, who behave in such 
 a manner as to give just oflence ; and that we may be in great danger of making ourselves partakers of 
 other men's sins, if we do not animadvert upon them : and that if they will not reform, or if the crime be 
 notorious, we ought, in duty to God, and to them, and lo all around us, solemnly to cut them olf from 
 our sacramental communion, as a reproach to the church of Christ. 
 
 yil. That it may, on many accounts, be proper to advise our people, to enter into little bands, or 
 societies, for religious discourse and prayer ; each consisting of six or eight, to meet for these good 
 purposes once in a week, or a fortnight, as may best suit with their other engagements and afl'airs. 
 
 VIII. That it might be advisable, if it can be done, to select out of each congregation under our care, 
 a small number of persons, remarkable for experienced prudence, seriousness, humility, and zeal, to act 
 as a stated council for promoting religion in the said .society : and that it would be proper they should 
 have some certain times of meeting with each other and with the minister, to join their counsels and 
 their prayers for the public good. 
 
 IX. That so far as we can judge, it might, by the divine bles.sing, conduce to the advancement of these 
 valuable ends, that neighbouring ministers, in one part of our land and another, (especially in this 
 county,) should enter into associations, to strengthen the hands of each other by united consultations and 
 prayer ; and that meetings of ministers might, by some obvious regulations, be made more extensively 
 useful than they often are: in which view it was further proposed, (with unanimous ajjprobation,) That 
 these meetings should be held at certain periodical times :— That each member of the association should 
 
896 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 endeavour (if possihlo) lo be present, studyinj; to order his ad'airs so, as to guard as^ainst unnecessary 
 hinderanees : — That publie worship should begin and end sooner, than it coninionly has done on those 
 oeeasions : — Tliat each pastor preach at these assemblies in liis turn : — That the minister of the place 
 determine who sliall be employed in (irayer : — That after a moderate repast, to be managed with as little 
 trouble and expense as may be, an hour or two in tlic afternoon be spent in religious conference and 
 prayer, and in taking into consideration (merely as a friemlly council, and without the least pretence to 
 any right of autlioritatixe decision) tiie concerns of any brother, or any society, wliich may be brought 
 before us for our advice : — And linally, that every mend)er of tiiis asso(;iation siiall consider it as an 
 additional obligation upon him, to endeavour to be, so far as he justly and honourably can, a friend and 
 guardian to tiie reputation, comfort, and usefulness of all his brethren in the Christian ministry, near or 
 remote, of v\ hatever party and denomination. 
 
 X. That it nuiy be proper to enter into some further measures, to regulate the admission of young 
 persons into the ministry. The particulars here were referred to further consideration ; but, so far as I 
 can judge, the plan proposed will be pretty nearly this : — That if any student, within the compass of 
 this association, desires to be admitted as a preacher, he apply to the ministers at one of their periodical 
 meetings ; when, if they be in the general satislied, that he is a person of a fair character, in sacramental 
 communion with Christian society, and one who has gone through a regular course of preparatory studies, 
 they will appoint three of their number, to examine more particMilarly into his acquaintance with, and 
 sense of, the great doctrines of Christianity, as delivenul in the Scripture, and into the progress he has 
 made in literature, the views with which he professes to undertake the ministry, and in general, his aptness 
 to teach : in order to judging of whi<;h, it may be proper, that a theological thesis be exhibited in Latin, 
 and a popular sermon, composed by the candidate, be sid)mitted lo the perusal of the examiners: that if 
 they in their consciences believe he is lit to I e employed in the Christian ministry, they give him a 
 certilieate of that approbation, which he may be desired to produce at the next general meeting, that his 
 testimonial may be signed by all the associated ministers present, and he solemnly recommended to God 
 by prayer. 
 
 Thus, Gentlemen, you have a view of tlie scheme, as it now lies before us, and as every article, except 
 the last, (not yet considered among us,) was approved at Kettering, at the time above mentioned. I will 
 take leave to add one particular more, which has since occurred to my thoughts, and which I here submit 
 to your consideration, and to that of my other reverend brethren, into whose hands this may fall, espe- 
 cially those of our own association. 
 
 XT. Qu. Whether something might not be done, in most of our congregations, towards assisting in 
 the propagation of Christianity abroad, and spreading it in some of the darker parts of our own land? 
 In pursuance of which it is further proposed, that we endeavour to engage as many j)ious people of our 
 respective congregations as we can, to enter themselves into a society, in which the members may engage 
 themselves to some peculiar cares, assemblies, and contributions, with a regard to this great end. I will 
 not swell this Dedication with the particulars of that scheme, which has been formed to this purpose ; 
 but rather choose to insert at the bottom of the page a copy of such an association, which I am 
 endeavouring to introduce among my own people, and which several have already signed. It is a feeble 
 essay ; and the elfects of it in one congregation can be but very small : but if it were generally to be 
 followed, who can tell what a harvest such a little grain might at length produce ? May God multiply 
 it a thousand-fold ! * 
 
 Excuse me, my reverend and dear brethren, that I have detained you so long with these various parti- 
 culars ; and permit me to conclude this address, with beseeching you to join with me in humble prayer to 
 him, who knows the sincere regard to the temporal and eternal happiness of his creatures, by which the 
 plain things of this Dedication and Sermon are dictated, that he may honour both with his blessing. If 
 any parts of the scheme here laid before you, have not indeed that subserviency to the great end proposed, 
 
 * We whose names are snbscribej, beinff moved, as we hope and trust, ]»y a real concern for the propag;ation of the kingdom of Christ in the 
 world, have determined t<i form ourselves into a society for tliat end, on tiie following terms: — 
 
 I. Tliat we pnrpose, as God shall enable ns, to l)e daily pnttiiiR" up some earnest petitions to the throne of s;race, for the advancement of the 
 gospel in the world, and for the success of all the faithfnl servants of Christ, who are engaged in the work of it, especially among- the heathen 
 nations. 
 
 II. That we will assemlile, at least four times a year, in our place of public worship, at such seasons as .shall by mutual consent he appointed, 
 to spend some time in solemn prayer together on this important account : and we hereby engage, that we will, each of us, if we conveniently can, 
 attetid at such meetings; unless such circumstances happen, as to lead us in our own consciences to conclude, that it will be more acceptable in 
 the sight of God, that we should be employed in some other business elsewhere. 
 
 III. We do hereby express our desire, that sttme time may be then spent, if God givean opportunity, in reviewing those promises of Scripture, 
 which relate to the establishment of our Redeemer's kingdom in the world ; that our faith may be supported, and our prayers (juickencd, by the 
 contemplation of them. 
 
 IV. It is also our desire, that whatever important informations, relating to the progress of the gospel, be received from the various parts of 
 this kingdom, or from foreign lands, by any members of the society, they may be communicated (o us at our general (piartcrly meeting.s: and 
 the rest of us make it our request to our minister, that he will, where he can with convenience do it, keep up such corresiiondences ; that we 
 may be more capable of judging, Imw far God answers our prayers, attd those of his other servants, in this regard. 
 
 V. We further engage, that on these days of general meeting, every otie of us will, as God shall be pleased to prosper us, contribute something, 
 be it ever so little, towards the carrying on this pious design ; which shall be lodged in the hands of a treasurer, to be chosen at the first meeting", 
 to be disposed of by him. and four other trustees, then also to be appointed, in such a manner as they shall judge most convenient, towards 
 supportuig the expense of .sending missionaries abroad ; printing Bibles, or other useful books, in foreign languages ; establishing schools for the 
 instruction of the ignorant; and the like. 
 
 VI. That the pastor for the time being, if one of the society, be always one of those trustees; and that four more be annually nominated by 
 the wiety, at the first meeting after New-year's day, with a power of choosing their treasurer out of their own number ; and that the accounts 
 of the fornitr year be then laul before the society, or before a committee appointed to examine them. 
 
 VII. That members, after the first meeting, lie admitted by the consent of the majority of the society present, at some slated meeting ; and 
 that if .uiy member think fit to withdraw, he signify that purpose to ttie society, or to fuie of the trustees. 
 
 V'lll. That brief minutes be taken at every meeting, of the business despatched, the persons admitted, the contributions made at 
 it, &c. 
 
 To these rules we subscribe our hands, heartily praying, that God may quicken us, and many others by our means, to greater zeal in this, 
 and in every good word and work ; and that joining in spirit witli all tliose, who in one place or another, arc devoting their lives to the 
 advancement of the gospel, we may another day partake of their joy. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 H07 
 
 which they are imagined to have, it would be a peculiar pleasure to me to be better informed : jet I must 
 take the liberty to say, those must be strong arguments, which w ill prevail against the experience of the 
 happy efl'ects, which have for some time, in my own congregation, attended those, alas, too imperfect 
 attempts, which I have made to carry them into execution. But if they are, as I assuredly believe, cal- 
 culated to revive the languishing interest of real religion, may your advice, my honoured friends, in con- 
 currence with that of my worthy brethren in these parts, and with the serious expostulations contained 
 in the ensuing Discourse, prevail on others to make the trial of them, w liich surely they will not repent 
 in the nearest views of eternity. 
 
 I persuade myself, gentlemen, that in the midst of those various cares and labours for the public 
 service, to which, weak as I am, Divine Providence has called me, you will sometimes be repeating for 
 me those suitable and pathetic petitions, which you were pleased, at Denton, and elsewhere, during my 
 late interviews with you, to offer on my account ; petitions, which I never recollect without a most sensi- 
 ble pleasure, and by the very remembrance of which I find myself animated to this very day. On my 
 part, dear brethren, be assured of all the most affectionate good wishes, which sincere esteem and grate- 
 ful friendship can inspire. May that Spirit of grace and supplication, tiie happy effects of which I so 
 delightfully observed in those of you, on whom I had then an opportunity of attending, be in a still 
 richer abundance poured forth upon you all ! May you open your mouths boldly to declare the mysteries 
 of God, as faithful witnesses to the truth and purity of his gospel, in the midst of a degenerate and back- 
 sliding age ! May you teach, not only publicly, but from house to house ! May a truly primitive <»nd 
 Scriptural discipline, which it is our privilege, that amidst all our discouragements we are able, not only 
 to pray for, but to exercise, be impartially maintained ! And in consequence of all this, may you have 
 the pleasure to see your assemblies flourishing ! May you feel your hearts daily cheered and animated, 
 by the visible success of your labours ! and may there be no contention among you, unless it be who shall 
 exert himself with the most exemplary prudence, zeal, and love, in the prosecution of so good a work ! 
 May each of you, in the sphere which Providence has assigned liim, be a burning and a shining light ! 
 And may the lustre of your fervent and active piety awaken (if any of them slumber) our brethren of the 
 established clergy, to guard against that growth of the dissenting interest, which must otherwise be the 
 probable consequence of such measures ! May they all emulate the most faithful and zealous among us, 
 in the purity of their doctrine, in the seriousness and spirituality of their address, in the vigilance of 
 their pastoral inspection, in their tender care to train up the rising generation for God, and above all, in 
 the distinguished sanctity of their lives ! This will unite our hearts in such mutual esteem and affection, 
 that even while in different communions, we shall treat each other like brethren and friends, and fellow- 
 labourers in the vineyard of Christ ; far more endeared by our common love to our divine Master, and 
 the souls he has redeemed, than alienated by our different apprehensions as to the particular mode by 
 which that interest is to be promoted. The question between us will not then be, " How much may we 
 lawfully impose?" and " How much may we lawfully dispute?" But on the one side, it will be in- 
 quired, " What may we wave ?" and on the other, " What may we acquiesce in, from a principle of mutual 
 tenderness and respect; without displeasing our common Lord, and injuring that great cause of original 
 Christianity, which he has appointed us to guard ?" Thus may the flames of undissemblcd love purge 
 away our dross, and cement us into one mass; where the union will be the closer, in proportion to the 
 degree in which the metal is the nobler, and the more refined ! And thus may it cause those fetters to 
 fall off, under the weight and the straitness of which, however they may have been gilded over, the 
 worthiest persons that wear them must secretly groan ! We are praying and waiting for that happy day, 
 which, whenever it appears, will be the glorious earnest of the revival of the protestant and of the Chris- 
 tian cause. In the mean time, may each of us have a pleasing consciousness, that we are labouring to 
 promote it ; or at least that while we are waiting for the appearance of the great Physician among us, we 
 do not, by our own rashness, exasperate those distempers, which in his absence we cannot heal ! A wish, 
 and a care, in which, I am sure, you will concur with. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 Your most affectionate brother, 
 
 and faithful and obliged humble servant, 
 
 Sorthamplon, February 1, 1741-2. P. DODDRIDGE, 
 
 Prov. xxiv. 11, 12. 
 
 If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto 
 death, and those that are ready to be slain ; if thou 
 saijest, Behold, we knew it not ; doth not he that 
 pondereth the heart consider it ? and he that 
 keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it ? and shall 
 not he render to every man according to his 
 works ? 
 
 The interviews of the ministers of Christ will 
 always be pleasant, in proportion to the degree in 
 .3 M 
 
 which they are animated, by divine grace, to think 
 and act worthy of their honourable relation to him, 
 and to each other. We, in these parts, have great 
 reason for thankfulness, that we have so long 
 known, by happy experience, how good and how 
 pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together 
 in unity ; and it is with peculiar joy that 1 reflect, 
 we are met this day, not only to express and culti- 
 vate our mutual affection ; but also, by our united 
 counsels, to strengthen each other's hands in the 
 work of our God, and to concert measures for the 
 
898 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 more olTochial revival of religion, in the several 
 places where Providence lias especially assigned it 
 to our stated care. As iron sharpenctli iron, so a 
 niaii often sharpens the countenance of his friend. 
 Most •?la(lly would I this day, since I am called to 
 address you on so solemn and important an ovcn- 
 sion, contribute my utmost to wliet your spirits and 
 my own ; and to awaken us all to that zeal for the 
 service of our common Master, which will rciulcr 
 the various duties of our ofHce abundantly deligiit- 
 ful, and our reward in heaven proportionably great. 
 O that what I have now to say might be like goads, 
 to penetrate all our minds ; and like nails, securely 
 fastened in our memories and our hearts, given 
 forth from the one great Shepherd ! May all the 
 instruments with wliich he is furnishing us in our 
 pastoral work, be wisely and faitlifully employed ; 
 and may the Master of assemblies this day be ex- 
 cited to use them with greater skill and diligence 
 in his service ! 
 
 And as for you, my brethren, in more private 
 stations of life, I persuade myself you will hear me 
 patiently and candidly : for though but little of my 
 discourse will be immediately addressed to you, it 
 is your cause I shall be pleading in the wliolc of 
 it. You will, therefore, I hope, be often lifting up 
 your hearts to God for the success of it; and will 
 also be considering what intimations of your own 
 duty you may collect, from what I am to address to 
 those of a more public character. For though the 
 words of my text may, with peculiar propriety, be 
 applied to the ministers of the gospel, they were at 
 first spoken with a much more general view : nor is 
 there one soul in the assembly who may not consider 
 them as directed by God to him, as truly as if his 
 own name were prefixed to tliem. If tliou forbear 
 to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those 
 that are ready to be slain ; if thou sayest, or (as it 
 might be rendered) though thou mayest say,* Be- 
 hold, we knew it not : doth not he that pondereth 
 the heart consider it ? and he that keepeth thy 
 soul, doth not he know it ? and will not he render 
 to every n>an according to his works ? 
 
 For tlie explication of which words, witii all be- 
 coming deference to the superior judgment of some 
 before whom 1 speak, I would oflcr these three 
 plain and obvious remarks. 
 
 1. That the omission, which is here charged as so 
 displeasing to God, though immediately referringto 
 men's natural lives, must surely imply, that the 
 neglect of their souls is much more criminal. 
 
 The text strongly implies, that wc shall be cx- 
 jiosed to guilt and condemnation before God, by 
 forbearing to deliver them that are drawn unto 
 
 • It is well known, that the parlirle often signifies althongli. 
 Thus our translators very jnsHy render it in several plares ; See ExoH. 
 xiii. 17. Josh. xvii. 18. 2 Sain, xxiii. 6. l^zck. xi. I(>. Ilali. iii. 17. 
 And if tliey iiad dune so in several (ttherp, tlK-j' wnvild have evpressed 
 the sense and ronnexion of the original much more plainly. Compare 
 r;en. viii. 21 I'snl. xiv. f! ; xxv. II. Isa. xxxvlii. 18, 19. 
 
 death, and those that are ready to be slain. This 
 must directly refer to innocent persons, brought 
 into visible and extreme danger by some oppressive 
 enemy, either by the sudden assault of a private 
 person, or by some unjust prosecution under forms 
 of law; and may paiticularly extend to cases, 
 where we have reason to believe, a capital sentence 
 has been passed in consequence of false witness, 
 detected before execution is done :t v\ hen cases of 
 one sort or the other occur, we may consider Solomon 
 as requiring, just as his father l>avidliad done, that 
 we should by such interpositions, as suit the case in 
 (jucstion, and that station in which Providence has 
 fixed us, defend the poor and the fatherless, or 
 those who arc oppressed, as orphans often are ; that 
 wc should do justice to the afflicted and the needy ; 
 and sliould endeavour to deliver the poor and the 
 needy, and to rid them out of the hand of the 
 wicked. And though this may expose us to popular 
 clamours, wc should adopt the heroic resolution of 
 Jofj, not fearing a great multitude, nor permitting 
 the reproach of families to terrify us, so as to keep 
 silence, and not go out of the door. One would 
 hope, such attacks as these seldom happened under 
 the peaceful and equitable reign of Solomon : but 
 as violence and fiaud are in some degree the pro- 
 duct of all climates and ages, he had, no doubt, in 
 some instances observed them ;J and had remarked 
 a culpable negligence in those, who ought to have 
 interposed to have delivered the victims from such 
 itii undeserved stroke ; on which account, he judged 
 it necessary to enter his solemn protest against an 
 indolence and cowardice, so detrimental to society, 
 and so offensive to God, the great guardian of it. 
 
 Now you will please to observe, that delivering 
 persons reduced to such extreme danger in the cir- 
 cumstance I have described, would generally be an 
 act of cliarity attended with great danger, or with 
 great trouble. And if the neglect of that be (as you 
 see it is) represented as highly criminal, it must be 
 a much greater offence to suffer any to perish, for 
 want of cither food, shelter, or harbour, in circum- 
 stances where a person is able, by a little trouble, 
 expense, or care, to preserve their lives. And we 
 may argue, by a consequence yet stronger than this, 
 that it must be a much more heinous crime than 
 cither, by any neglect of ours, to permit the ruin of 
 men's souls, without endeavouring their recovery, 
 
 + It was allowed amontj the .Jews, tiiat if any person conlil offer any 
 (hinjc in favtdir of a pris^nier, after sentence was passed, he niishl be 
 heard before cxeeni ion was done: and therefore it was usual, (:us the 
 Misehna shows,) that when a man was led to execution, a eryer went 
 before hini and proclaimed, *' This man is now {;oin^ to be executed 
 for sucli a crime, and such and such are witnesses af^ainst him ; whoever 
 knows him to be innocent, let him come forth, and make it aiipear." 
 ■vte lo'"! noi l") VlVXa -a Lib. de Ord. Unnmornm. 
 Traclat, de Synedriis, cap. vi. sett. I. apud Surenbus. I oni. iv. 
 pa-e 2,33. 
 
 t It appears by several hints in Solomon's writings, that the cay, 
 expensive, and luxurious manner of livins, which (though directly 
 contrary to the genius of tlie Jewish religion) was introduced in hi» 
 day.-, had its natural effect in prodnciUK fie(|uent thefts, iieijiiries, 
 robberies, and murders, and, which was worst of all, ahomiiiable cor. 
 niption among magistrates, and great inifpiity in judicial alfaiis. 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 when they are, as it were, drawn away to tlie ex- 
 tremest danger of eternal death, and are ready to 
 be slain by the sword of divine justice. For if 
 temporal life should be thus tenderly regarded, and 
 expense or danger should be cheerfully met in the 
 defence of it, judge you. Sirs, as in the sight of 
 God, how much more precious the redemption of 
 the soul is, which will soon cease, e\en for ever. 
 
 Nay, I might go yet further, and draw an infer- 
 ence, if it were necessary, from that humane and cha- 
 ritable prcceptof the Jewish legislator ; If thou meet 
 thine enemy's ox or his ass going astray, thou sbalt 
 surely bring it back to him again : if thou see the 
 ass of him that hateth thee lying under his burthen, 
 wilt thou forbear, or, (as it might be rendered,) 
 wouldst thou refrain, to help him ? or couldst thou 
 be so cruel as to harbour a thought of it ? No, thou 
 shalt surely help with him ; i. e. thou shall go, if it 
 be necessary, and join thy strength with that of 
 thine enemy, to raise the beast from the ground. 
 Now if God not only regards the natural life of a 
 man, but if he thus appears to care for oxen, and 
 for asses, how much more must he require us to re- 
 duce wandering souls, and to do what we can to 
 raise them, when pressed under the burthen of sin, 
 and in danger of being crushed into eternal misery ? 
 
 2. The text seems to suppose that men would be 
 ready to excuse themselves for this neglect. 
 
 It is true indeed, that at the first sight of a miser- 
 able object we naturally find a strong impulse to 
 endeavour to relieve it. Our hearts do, as it were, 
 spring in our bosoms, and urge us forward to exert 
 ourselves on such an occasion ; which seems to be 
 intimated by that word, which we render forbear, 
 which often signifies to check, restrain, and hold 
 back a person from what he is eager on doing.* 
 But the wise man intimates, there may be danger of 
 suppressing these generous sallies of the soul on the 
 first view of the object; of suffering our charity to 
 cool, and then of searching out apologies for our 
 I inactivity. You may be ready to say, Behold, we 
 knew it not. " I did not particularly see the dan- 
 ger ; I did not, however, apprehend it to be so ex- 
 treme : or, I did not know the innocence of the 
 person in danger : or, if I did believe it, I knew not 
 how to deliver him. I did not think the interpo- 
 sition of such a person as I could be of any import- 
 ance in such an aflair. I was sorry to see innocence 
 overborne, and weakness oppressed ; but I was 
 myself too weak to contend with the mightier op- 
 pressor ; too poor, too ignorant, or too busy, to 
 meddle in an affair, where those who were much 
 ray superiors were concerned, and bad determined 
 the case. I had no obligations to the person in 
 
 * It K in tlic original -ri^jnp. the same word is used to express 
 the reslrajnt pnt on the 'pasnjon of Abimclecli for Sarali, Oen. xx. 6.on 
 I he revenge of David, wticn insulted by Nabal, 1 S.im. xx. .39. and on 
 the martial fury of David's party when pursuing the rebels under Ab. 
 ' .lom, 2Sam. xviii. 16. Compare Job xvi. 6. Prov. xxi. 26. 
 
 ;? M 2 
 
 danger ; I had no concern with him, nor any thing 
 to do to embarrass myself witli his affairs." 
 
 If these excuses be just, it is well. God requires 
 impossibilities from no man ; nor does he expect 
 that persons should rashly throw themselves upon 
 difficulties and dangers, when there is no such 
 rational prospect of doing good, as may balance the 
 hazard. Nevertheless the text supposes, 
 
 3. That these excuses might often be overruled, 
 by an appeal to men's consciences as in the sight 
 of God. 
 
 Doth not he that pondereth the heart consider 
 it ? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth not he know 
 it? As if he should have said " It is an easy thing 
 to excuse omissions, so that a fellow-creature shall 
 have nothing to reply ; but whoever thou art that 
 readest these words, I charge thee to remember, 
 that it is comparatively a very little matter to be 
 judged of man's judgment ; he that judgeth thee is 
 the Lord : and he pondereth the heart ; he weighs, 
 in a most accurate balance, all its most secret sen- 
 timents. I therefore cut ofl" all chicane and trilling 
 debate at once, by placing thee in his presence, and 
 laying open thy conscience there. Thou canst 
 answer me ; but canst thou answer the heart-search- 
 ing God f Does not he, the great Father of spirits, 
 see, in every instance, how inferior spirits conduct 
 themselves .' Does he not precisely know the situa- 
 tion, in which thy heart was at the very moment in 
 question? Thou sayest, thou knewest it not; but 
 he is witness, whether thou indeed didst or didst 
 not know it. And he also sees all the opportuni- 
 ties and advantages, which thou hadst for knowing 
 it ; all the hints, which might have been traced out 
 to open a more explicit and particular knowledge ; 
 every glimpse which thou hadst, when thou wast 
 (like the priest, when he spied at a distance the 
 wounded traveller) passing by on the other side, 
 and perhaps alfecting to look the contrary way." 
 
 Nor was it in vain, that the wise man renewed 
 his expostulation in a different form. He that 
 keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it? As if he 
 had said, " Consider God, as keeping thine own 
 soul ; as holding it in life ; as preserving thy spirit 
 by his continued visitation ; and then say, O thou 
 that neglectcst the life of thy brother, whether he 
 must not be highly displeased with that neglect? 
 May he not reasonably expect, that while he, the 
 Lord of heaven and earth, condescends to become 
 thy guardian, thou shouldst learn of him, and be 
 according to thine ability, and in thy sphere, a 
 guardian to the whole human race, and shouldst 
 endeavour, in every instance, to ward off danger 
 from tlic life, from the soul, of thy broliicr '." 
 
 And that these thoughts may entei' into the mind 
 with all their weight, it is added once more, in this 
 pointed form of interrogation. Will not he render 
 to every man according to his works ? " I appeal to 
 
900 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Ihine own limit, is hv not a IJeinp; of infinite moral, 
 as well as natural, iiertVctions. and will he not, as 
 the jiidg'e of all the earth, do right ? Would he not 
 have remembered, and rewarded, thy generous care 
 for the preservation of the miserable creature in 
 question ? And, on the other hand, will he not 
 reckon with thee for such a failure! Human laws, 
 indeed, cannot punish such neglects ; but the su- 
 preme legislature can, and will do it. Think of 
 these things, and guard against such fatal negli- 
 gence in every future instance : think of tlicm, 
 and humble thyself deeply before God, forevery past 
 instance in which such guilt lias been incurred." 
 
 You easily perceive, from this explication of my 
 text, that (as I hinted above) I might very pro- 
 perly make it the foundation of a discourse " on 
 the care of souls in general," addressed to persons 
 of all ranks and professions in life ; especially to 
 parents,* and masters, and heads of families : and 
 they will indeed have an evident share in what I 
 am to say, and tlierefore I would bespeak their par- 
 ticular attention to it. But considering the occa- 
 sion of our present assembly, and also considering 
 how much of their fidelity, in the performance of 
 their duty, will probably, under God, depend upon 
 the exhortations, instructions, and assistances, they 
 receive from us, I shall chielly address these things 
 to you, my reverend fathers and brethren in the 
 ministry ; and entreat your patient and candid at- 
 tendance, while I speak to you with all possible 
 plainness and seriousness, as in the name and pre- 
 sence of our common Master. 
 
 God is my witness, that I mean not to insinuate 
 the least disrespectful thought with regard to any 
 one of you. Indeed I have not the least temptation 
 to it, for I can say, with equal integrity and plea- 
 sure, that I believe few of your profession in the 
 Christian w orld (glorious as that profession is, and 
 happy as it is in many that adorn it) are more con- 
 stant, more upright, or more zealous, in the course 
 of their public ministry. I repeat it with great 
 cheerfulness, that I am inwardly persuaded, few of 
 the servants of Christ are, or in any modern age 
 have been, more faithfully solicitous to declare to 
 their people the whole counsel of God ; or to en- 
 force their public exhortations, by the silent but 
 powerful eloquence of a blameless, a holy, an ex- 
 emplary life. And of this, I assuredly believe, you 
 have a testimony in the consciences of all around 
 you, and even of multitudes who are not stated at- 
 tendants on your labours ; and who perhaps, in 
 such a case, are under some temptations to err on 
 the severe, rather than on the candid, extreme. So 
 that in this respect, I could cheerfully say. Would 
 to God, that all your brethren in the Christian 
 ministry, throughout the nation, and the world, 
 
 * I have ar^iieil the matter at large with them in my Sermons on 
 F.iliiratinn. 
 
 were even as you ! Nevertheless, permit me to say 
 it without ollenee, (for I say it in tiie fear of God, 
 and with the sincerest deference and friendship to 
 you,) I am afraid, the extensive and important obli- 
 gations of the ministerial office are not generally 
 considered, and remembered among us, as they 
 ought. I apprehend, much more might be done for 
 tlie honour of God, and the good of souls, than is 
 coiiiinoiily done, I will not say, by those careless 
 and profane wretches, who undertake the tre- 
 mendous charge merely for the sake of worldly 
 emoluments ; by those whom the plainness of pro- 
 phetic language calls dumb dogs, that cannot bark, 
 and greedy dogs, that can never have enough ; 
 but even by those, who in the main have a princi- 
 ple of true religion in their hearts ; by those, who 
 keep up the exercise of public worship in a regular 
 and honourable manner, and appear not only irre- 
 proachable in their conversation, but, if considered 
 as in private life, bringing forth the fruits of right- 
 eousness. The learned, the wise, the virtuous, the 
 pious minister, is, I fear, often negligent of a con- 
 siderable part of his trust and charge ; and thereby 
 fails to deliver, as he might, those that are drawn 
 unto death, and perhaps are just ready to be slain. 
 To awaken our spirits therefore from that insensi- 
 bility in this respect, into which the}' are so ready 
 to fall, and so to improve the present opportunity, 
 that the man of God may be perfect, and thoroughly 
 furnished to every good work which our office re- 
 quires, I shall take the liberty, 
 
 I. Briefly to consider, what excuses we may he 
 most ready to offer, for neglecting the souls of men. 
 
 II. Seriously to represent the great evil of that 
 neglect in the sight of God, notwithstanding all 
 those excuses. After which, 
 
 III. I shall add a few hints by way of reflection, 
 as the time may admit. 
 
 And if a consciousness of my own past neglects, 
 and an ignorance of circumstances in the congre- 
 gations of my brethren, lead me to suppose some 
 deficiencies greater than they really are, and to give 
 any cautions, which their diligence and zeal render 
 necessary, with regard to some that hear me, they 
 will, I hope, forgive me this involuntary wrong. I 
 am far from the thought of charging any particular 
 person, and ground most of the reiuarks I now 
 present, on what is obvious in the temper of man- 
 kind, and on those infirmities of human nature, to 
 wliich the best of men are obnoxious, however by 
 divine grace they may be conquered in a few of the 
 most eminent for fidelity and zeal. 
 
 I. I am to consider, what excuses we may be 
 ready to make, for neglecting to do our utmost for 
 the salvation of men's souls. 
 
 Now I imagine one of the first thoughts, which 
 may present it.self to our view upon such an occa- 
 sion, may be this : 
 
OltUINATION SERMONS. 
 
 901 
 
 1. That we do something considerable for that 
 purpose : 
 
 And particularly, that we take care for their 
 instruction in public ; reading the word of God to 
 them, when they are assembled together in his 
 house ; explaining and enforcing it in our expo- 
 sitions and sermons; presenting prayers and praises 
 to God, in their name ; and, at proper seasons 
 administering the sacraments, in such a manner as 
 we judge most agreeable to the institution of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 And so far, indeed, it is well : and a most wise 
 and gracious constitution of our blessed Redeemer 
 it is, that such ordinances should be administered, 
 on solemn stated days, and by men appropriated to 
 that employment ; in consequence of which, such 
 knowledge is dispersed, as may be, and undoubt- 
 edly is, through the divine blessing, effectual for 
 the salvation of many souls. So that ministers 
 cannot go through the external and public services 
 of their function, without giving their hearers some 
 great and valuable advantages, far beyond what 
 the professors of any other religion can find in the 
 rites of their various, and generally absurd and 
 superstitious, worship. And I am not afraid to say, 
 that this would make the Christian ministry, even 
 in the hands of ignorant, careless, and vicious men, 
 a blessing to the nation wliere it is settled, so long 
 as reading the Scriptures, and almost any kind of 
 prayers, in an intelligible language, make a part of 
 divine service in their assemblies. Much more then 
 will it be so in the hands of wise, sober, and re- 
 ligious men, though, through human frailty, they 
 arc much less zealous and active, tlinn it were to be 
 wished they were, or than they ought to be. 
 
 But while we are thus pleading our diligence 
 and care in the administration of public ordinances, 
 it will be kindness to ourselves seriously to ask our 
 own hearts, at least, how they are administered. It 
 is (as I have elsewhere hinted) a very important 
 trust, to have the management of men's religious 
 hours committed to us ; their sea.sons of social wor- 
 ship being comparatively so short, and so infinitely 
 momentous. Methinks we do almost, as it were, 
 put our own lives in our hand while we undertake 
 it, and may justly tremble on the view of that awful 
 account which wc are to give for it. 
 
 I hope. Sirs, we have the testimony of our own 
 consciences before God, that we do not, on these 
 solemn occasions, content ourselves with cold essays 
 on mere moral subjects, however acute, philoso- 
 phical, or polite ; nor make it our main business, 
 I in our sermons, to seek the ornament and elegance 
 1 of words, the relinements of criticism, or the nice 
 I arrangement of various complex and abstruse argu- 
 I mentations. When we speak, in the name and 
 presence of God, to immortal creatures on the bor- 
 ders of eternity, I hope we entertain our hearers 
 
 witli plain, serious, and lively discourses, on the 
 most important doctrines of Christianity, in their 
 due connexion, and their relation to each other, in 
 such a manner, as we, on mature consideration, do 
 verily believe may have the most effectual tendency 
 to bring them to God tlirougli Christ, and to pro- 
 duce and promote in their hearts, through the divine 
 blessing, the great work of regeneration and holi- 
 ness. I hope and trust, that God is our witness, 
 and that the people of our charge are witnesses, 
 that not one of those that diligently attend on our 
 ministry, though but for a few succeeding sabbaths, 
 can fail to learn the way of salvation, as exhibited 
 in the gospel ; and that w e speak of it as those that 
 are in earnest, and do from our very souls desire to 
 answer the great ends of our ministry, in the pros- 
 perity of the Redeemer's kingdom, and the eternal 
 happiness of those invaluable souls whom he has 
 committed to our care. Otherwise we may incur 
 great and fatal guilt, though public worship be con- 
 stantly and decently carried on, and though a rea- 
 sonable proportion of time be employed in it, with 
 numerous and attentive auditories ; to whom we 
 may be as the lovely song of one that has a pleasant 
 voice, while in the ears of God, for want of that 
 fervent charity which should dictate and animate 
 all, we are but as sounding brass, or as a tinkling 
 cymbal. 
 
 But granting, as I would willingly suppose, and 
 as with relation to you, my brethren, I do firmly be- 
 lieve, all these reflections can be answered to satis- 
 faction ; here is indeed a part of your duty honour- 
 ably performed, and an important part of it too. 
 
 But is that part, though ever so important, to be 
 substituted for the whole ! The diligent inspection 
 of our llock, pastoral visits, the observation of the 
 religious state of families, personal exhortations, 
 admonitions, and cautions, by word or letter, as 
 prudence shall direct, the catechising children, the 
 promoting religious associations among the younger 
 and the elder people of our charge, and the strict 
 and resolute exercise of discipline in the several 
 churches over which we preside ; are these no parts 
 of our olfure ? Will we say it with our dying breath, 
 will wc maintain it before tlic tribunal of Christ, 
 that they did not belong to the Christian ministry? 
 And if not, will our care in other parts of it be al- 
 lowed as a sufficient excuse before him, for our total 
 omission of these ? We have preached, and prayed, 
 and administered the sacraments. These things wc 
 should indeed have done ; and when we had taken 
 the care of congregations upon us, we could hardly 
 avoid it ; but surely our own consciences will now, 
 or hereafter, tell us, that we ought not to have left 
 the others undone. But we may perhaps for a while 
 (^lude the conviction, by pleading, 
 
 2. That the care of particular persons more pro- 
 perly belongs to others ; and especially, to heads of 
 
902 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 families, who liavc more oi)i)oitunilies of being 
 serviceable to tliose under tlieir cliargc, and indeed 
 liave the most immediate concern in thcni. 
 
 It certainly does. But docs it belong to them 
 alone ? Or if it did, do not thej' belong, to us, and 
 to our care ? And is it not the part of every supe- 
 rior olBcer of a society to see to it, tliat the subal- 
 tern olHccrs be careful and diligent in the discharge 
 of their duty ? And in this case, arc wo to take it 
 for granted, that in our respective congregations 
 heads of families are of course so? That they pray 
 in their families ; that they read the Sciiptures, 
 and other good books there, especially on the even- 
 ing of the Lord's day ; that they catechise their 
 children, and solemnly press upon them, and their 
 servants, tlie serious care of practical religion ? Are 
 we roundly to conclude, without any further in- 
 quiry, that all this is done ; and done in so diligent 
 and so prudent a manner ? And that there is no 
 need of any particular exhortations, instructions, or 
 admonitions from us ? Would to God there were 
 any one congregation in the whole kingdom, of 
 which this might reasonably be presumed to be the 
 case ! But if it were indeed so, would not our con- 
 cuiTcnce with these wise and pious heads of fami- 
 lies, in so good, but so difiicult, a work, encourage 
 and strengthen them to prosecute it with greater 
 cheerfulness and vigour? Would it not quicken 
 both their cares and their endeavours ? And might 
 it not, by the divine blessing, promote the success 
 of them ? Might it not gain on the minds of chil- 
 dren and servants, to see that we did not think it 
 beneath us, tenderly to care for their souls ? And 
 might not our tender and condescending regards 
 to them in private, while it convinced them how 
 well we meant them, render our public labours 
 more acceptable and useful to them ? Now we well 
 know, that the children and servants of the present 
 generation are the hopes of the next ; as they are 
 probably those, that in their turns will be parents 
 and governors of families ; whose children and 
 servants, when they arise, will one way or another 
 feel the happy, or unhappy, consequences, of our 
 fidelity or neglect ? And when such afl'airs arc in 
 question, shall we allow ourselves to plead, 
 
 3. That we have so much other business, and 
 such various engagements of a different kind, that 
 we cannot possibly attend to these things. 
 
 But give me leave, my brethren, to observe, that 
 the question here is not, whether we can find out 
 other agreeable ways of filling up our time ? but 
 whether those other ways are more im[)ortant, and 
 whether that different manner of employing it, be 
 more acceptable in the sight of God, and will turn 
 to a better account in that great day, when our 
 conduct is to be finally reviewed by him? We must 
 indeed have our seasons of recreation and our sea- 
 sons of study ; but it will easily appear, that no 
 
 regards to cither of these will vindicate, or excuse, 
 our neglect of the private duties we owe to our 
 liock, in giving diligence to know their state, and 
 being careful to teach them, net only publicly, but 
 from house to house. 
 
 Recreation, to be sure, can afford no just apology 
 for neglecting it ; since to follow tliis employment 
 prudently, might be made a kind of recreation from 
 tlie labours of a sedentary and studious life. A 
 gTave and severe recreation ! you will perhaps say. 
 Grave indeed I will acknowledge it to be ; but not 
 therefore to a serious mind less delightful. So 
 much of those two noblest and sweetest exercises 
 of the soul, devotion and benevolence, would natu- 
 rally mingle with these pious cares and tender ad- 
 dresses, as would renew the strength which had 
 been exhausted in our studious hours, and the man- 
 ly, shall I say, or rather the godlike, joy it would 
 administer, would quite discountenance that which 
 we find in the gay indulgences of a humorous and 
 facetious conversation ; though I see no necessity 
 of forbidding that, at proper intervals, so far as its 
 cheerfulness is consistent with wisdom and religion. 
 And I am sure, that if we can turn our seasons of 
 recess from study to so profitable an account, as 
 would be answered by the duties which you know I 
 have now in view, it will be a most happy art, well 
 becoming one who is truly prudent, and would 
 therefore husband his time to the best purposes for 
 eternity ; in whicli view it is evident, that the 
 smallest fragments of it, like the dust of gold, or 
 jewels, are too valuable to be lost. 
 
 The great proportion of time to be given to our 
 studies, will, no doubt, be urged, as a yet more 
 material excuse. But here it is obvious to reply, 
 that a prudent care in the duties I am now recom- 
 mending, is very consistent with our employing a 
 great deal of time in study ; and particularly, with 
 our giving it, what I hope we shall always learn to 
 value and redeem, our morning hours, to which 
 some of the evening may also be added. And if 
 these will not generally suffice, give me leave to ask, 
 what are those important studies, that M ould thus 
 engross the whole of our time, excepting what is 
 given to devotion, and to what is generally called 
 recreation ? 
 
 I liave had some little taste of the pleasures of 
 literature myself, and have some reason to Iiope, I 
 shall not be suspected of any prejudice against it; 
 nor am I at all inclined to pass those contemptuous 
 censures on the various branches of it, in which 
 ignorance and sloth are often, with strange stupidity, 
 or with yet stranger assurance, seeking, and it may 
 be finding, a refuge. But on such an occasion I 
 must freely say, I fear many things, which employ 
 a very large portion of our retired time, arc studied 
 rather as polite amusements to our own minds, than 
 as things which seem to have any apparent sub- 
 
seivieucy to tlic glory of God, and the edilicution 
 of our flock; atid consequently, I fear, they will 
 stand as articles of abatement, if I may so express 
 it, in our final account ; and when they come to be 
 made manifest, will be found works that shall be 
 burnt, as being no better, in the divine esteem, than 
 wood, hay, and stubble, how beautifully soever they 
 may have been varnished, or gilded over. 
 
 Let me here, in particular, address myself to my 
 younger brethren, with a frankness which may be 
 to them more excusable, while 1 urge them to a 
 Christian self-denial upon this head, where perhaps 
 it may be, of all others, the most diflicult. I do not 
 apprehend persons of your approved character to be 
 in danger of any other kind of luxury and intem- 
 perance ; but there is, if you will permit me so to 
 call it, a sort of refined intellectual luxury, with 
 regard to which I am jealous over you, lest you 
 should be seduced into it, or rather lest some of you 
 be already insnarcd by its specious charms. 
 
 I would not, my young friends, be so severe and 
 cruel, as to desire you should be confined from that 
 high and elegant entertainment, which a persoivof 
 genius and taste will find in the masterly writings 
 of the ancient orators, historians, and poets ; or in 
 those polite and elegant pieces, which our own and 
 Other modern languages, may afford ; from which 
 the wise man, and the Christian, will learn many 
 things of solid use, as Mcil as matters of most 
 delightful amusement. Neither would I pretend to 
 forbid some mathematical and philosophical re- 
 searches, into which you are initiated in your 
 academical course, and with which you will do well 
 to retain and improve your acquaintance in the 
 progress of life, both to strengthen your rational 
 faculties by that strenuous exercise, and to improve 
 your knowledge of the works of God, which will 
 appear great, wonderful, and delightful, in propor- 
 tion to the degree of sagacity and diligence with 
 which they may be searched out. But it is one 
 thing to taste of these poignant and luscious fruits, 
 and another to feed and live upon them: — one thing 
 to make tiie most noble and substantial parts of 
 them our entertainment and refreshment; and (|uitc 
 another to make their circumstantial curiosities the 
 chief business of our study, and the favourite sub- 
 jects of our most attentive inquiry. That true 
 greatness and elevation of mind, which the gospel 
 is so admirably calculated to produce, would teach 
 us a much sublimer science : and if, for the sake of 
 these little things, we neglect to pray for those 
 whom God hath committed to our care, to inquire 
 into their religious state, to pursue them with 
 suitable applications and addresses, the time will 
 come when we shall assuredly ow n, that we dearly 
 purchased the most refined pleasures they could 
 possibly give us ; not to say, how much greater and 
 nobler pleasure we even now resign, while our duty 
 
 ^ SERMONS. y03 
 
 is neglected. O, my brethren, let us consider how 
 fast we are, as it were, posting through this dying 
 life which God has assigned us, in which we are to 
 manage concerns of infinite moment ; how fast we 
 are passing on to the immediate presence of our 
 Lord, to give up our account to him. You must 
 judge for yourselves ; but permit me to say, that 
 for my own part, I would not for ten thousand 
 worlds be that man, who when God shall ask him 
 at last, how he has employed most of his time, while 
 he continued a minister in his church, and had the 
 care of souls, should be obliged to reply, " Lord, I 
 have restored many corrupted passages in the 
 ancient classics, and illustrated many which were 
 before obscure ; I have cleared up many intricacies 
 in chronology, or geography; I have solved many 
 perplexed cases in algebra ; I have refined on 
 astronomical calculations ; and left behind me many 
 sheets on these curious and diflicult subjects, where 
 the figures and characters are ranged with the 
 greatest exactness and truth : and these are the 
 employments in which my life has been worn out, 
 while preparations for the pulpit, or ministrations 
 in it, did not demand my immediate attendance." 
 O, Sirs, as for the waters which are drawn from 
 these springs, how sw eetly soever they may taste to 
 a curious mind that thirsts for them, or to an ambi- 
 tious mind which thirsts for the applause they 
 sometimes procure, I fear, there is often reason to 
 pour them out before the Lord, with rivers of peni- 
 tential tears, as the blood of souls which have been 
 forgotten, w bile these trifles have been remembered 
 and jjursued.* 
 
 Nor am I without my fears, that a great deal of 
 studious time is lost, in an over-artful com|)osition 
 of sermons, and in giving them such polish and 
 ornament, as does not conduce to their usefulness, 
 
 ♦ Since lhesej>npers liavo been prepared for the press, I huve liappily 
 met witli the Kuvcrend IMr, Lecrhinuii's excellent Sernioit, on the 
 Temper, Ctiaracter, and Duty of a Minister of the Gospel, preached 
 liefore ttie Synod of (ilas^ow and Ayr, April 7, I71I ; wtiicii, stt far an 
 I am capable of jndt;in;^, on an attentive and repeated periled, is one of 
 the most masterly performances of the kind, which ever fell into my 
 ii:in<ls, I am an entire stranger to the author, but hope this Sermon, 
 extorted (as I am told) from an cxccusiire modesty, by the earnest im. 
 portmiity of his brettiren, will meet with such just rejtard, as may 
 encourage him to enrich (jiir a^c and laii;;ua^e with many other 
 courses, in the sj)irit and manner which he has there so admirably 
 ilescribed and exemplitied. I am sure my reader will be pleased with 
 the following tipecinien, which I could wish deeply transcribed on every 
 heart, and especially on my own. *' A just sense of the im)>ortant 
 relations we stand in to our respective tiocks, and a genuine feeliii*^ of 
 that tender atlection which is due to Ihem, would not allow us to 
 hesitate one moment, whether that part of our time is most worthily 
 employed, which is taken up in doin;; real oflices of friendship among 
 them ; or that part of it, which is spent in perusing: the finest writings 
 r»f the greatest genius that ever appeared in the world, or in publishing 
 any little compositions of our own. Is the arranging of words, the 
 beautifying of language, or even storing our own minds with the 
 divinest sentiments, an employment of ei|iial dignity and importance 
 in itself, or equally pleasant on rctleclion, with that of composing 
 diiriMcnces, or cximguishing animosities, searching out modest and 
 in(ii;;ciit merit and relieving it, comforting a metanchuly heart, giving 
 counsel to a perplexed mind ; suspending pain by our sympathy and 
 prcs(.-nce, tlion;;h it were but for a luoiiient, suggesting to ail unfur- 
 nished mind proper materials for meditation in the time of distress, op 
 laying hold of a favourable opportunity of conveying valuable instruc- 
 tions, and religious impressions, to a mind liltle susceptible of them on 
 other occasions? There is no iieeil of s;iyrng any thing in eonfirmatjoii 
 of this: it was the glorious character of Jems, that he went about doing 
 good." 
 
V 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 004 
 
 nor any way balance tlic lahoiir employed in llic 
 work. If we do not dilif;cnt!y watch over our 
 hearts, this will be an incense, oflered to our own 
 vanity, which will render our sacrifice less accept- 
 able to God, however we and our hearers may be 
 deliiilited with the perfume. Greater plainness 
 iuid simplicity of speech might be more useful to 
 the bulk of our auditory, and perhaps more accept- 
 able too ; and on the whole, it miglit be at least 
 equally beautiful. For all that arc not children in 
 understanding know, that there is a natural and 
 manly kind of eloquence, arising from a deep sense 
 of the subject, and an ardent love to the souls of 
 our hearers, which is, of all others, the most to be 
 desired and esteemed. And though such dis- 
 courses may be attended with some little inaccura- 
 cies, and may want something of the varnish which 
 exacter preparation might set on ; yet surely, where 
 a habit of speaking is formed, by proper applica- 
 tion, and the materials of a sermon are well digested 
 in the mind, it will rise above a reasonable con- 
 tempt. And if where exacter preparation is made, 
 a care to preserve those niceties of composition 
 deaden the manner of the delivery, and take off 
 either its solemnity, its vigour, or its tenderness, I 
 cannot but apprehend it as injurious to the character 
 of the orator as to that of the Christian. The most 
 celebrated speakers in judicial courts, and in senates, 
 have, in all nations and ages, pursued the method 
 I now recommend ; and the most acceptable 
 preachers have successfully attempted it. On the 
 whole, permit me to say, it would be a fatal thing, 
 to barter away the souls of our people, for the 
 highest and justest reputation of speaking well ; yet 
 I fear there are many, who in this view do it for 
 nought, and have not in any sense increased their 
 wealth by the price. But perhaps, after all, the 
 most plausible excuse may be that, which I have 
 reserved for the last I shall now mention, viz. 
 
 4. That the attempts I am proposing might dis- 
 please those that attend upon our ministry ; upon 
 which account it may seem, both with respect to 
 them and ourselves, a necessary precaution of 
 prudence to decline them. 
 
 This is the lion in the street ; which, slothful as 
 we too naturally are, wc often plead for staying 
 within doors, when our duty calls us abroad on 
 these charitable errands : but I hope, on a nearer 
 approach, it will not be found so fierce or so invin- 
 cible, as a timorous imagination paints it. 
 
 Methinks, brethren, we make a very unfavourable 
 representation of the temper and character, not to 
 say of the breeding and understanding, of our 
 people, when we so readily take it for granted, they 
 will be displeased with us for addressing those ex- 
 hortations to them in private, which they seem so 
 desirous of receiving from us in public. Let us 
 ask our own consciences, would they all be dis- 
 
 pleased ? If not, the displeasure it might give to 
 some, can be no excuse for neglecting it with regard 
 to others. And are we indeed so miserable, as to 
 be situated among whole congregations, in whom 
 ignorance, pride, and profaneness, prevail to such 
 a degree, that a minister, who would be M clcome 
 among them if he came only as a common visitant, 
 should be looked upon with contempt or indigna- 
 tion, when he came expressly as a fi iend to their 
 eternal interests, and would step a little out of the 
 common way for their salvation ! If this were really 
 our case, who would not say with the prophet, O 
 that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place of way- 
 faring men, though it were but such a wretched 
 cave as travellers find in a desert, that I might 
 leave my people, and go from them ; for they be all 
 an assembly of treacherous men ! — of treacherous 
 men indeed, if, while they call themselves Chris- 
 tians and protestants, yea, and profess to separate 
 from their brethren on religious principles, they 
 should think themselves injured and aflVonted by 
 the exhortations of their ministers, while they would 
 warn every man, and teach every man in all wis- 
 dom, that they might present them perfect in Christ. 
 But blessed be God, bad as the world is, there is 
 no room to imagine this to be the case, or any thing 
 like it. Perhaps while we are delaying, and coldly 
 deliberating about it, many lively Christians under 
 our care are earnestly praying, that God may put 
 such a thing into our hearts ; and should we at- 
 tempt it, I doubt not but they would receive us as an 
 angel of God, or even as Christ himself; their love 
 to us would be more abundantly confirmed, and 
 their heart cemented in closer bonds than they have 
 yet known. And many others would at least own, 
 that we acted in character, and maintained a more 
 apparent consistency of behaviour, if the afiair were 
 properly conducted. 
 
 Did we indeed pretend to control them in the 
 management of their temporal a fl airs, or to exercise 
 a lordly dominion over their faith and their eon- 
 science, they might justly be displeased ; or did we 
 craftily demand that they should lay open to us the 
 secrets of their breasts in confession, their sus- 
 picions were pardonable, and their resentments 
 reasonable. But it must be great malice or folly to 
 suspect any design of that infamous nature, from 
 our visiting them as pastors, with pious exhortations 
 and affectionate prayers, as those who are concerned 
 for them, and their children, and servants, that their 
 souls may prosper and be in health. A solicitude 
 for the health of their bodies is esteemed friendship 
 and gratitude, and incjuiries concerning it seem but 
 common decency ; and can it oflend them to find 
 we are solicitous about that welfare which is infi- 
 nitely more important, and, by virtue of our office, 
 our peculiar charge ? 
 
 Yes, you will say, in one instance it will dis- 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 please ; for when we are obliged to blame any thing 
 which we see amiss in them, their pride will natu- 
 rally take fire on such an occasion ; and perhaps 
 those whom we have thought our best friends, will 
 become our enemies, if we will venture to tell them 
 such disagreeable truths as fidelity may extort in 
 some circumstances. This is, after all, the main 
 difficulty ; and as I cannot wonder if it impress our 
 minds, I pray God to forgive the perverseness of 
 those that make it so great. Yet surely, it is pos- 
 sible to manage reproof so, as that, in most instances, 
 it shall oblige, rather than provoke. If we tell our 
 hearers of their faults privately ; and if we do it 
 with tenderness and respect : if we show by our 
 manner of speaking, that what we say proceeds 
 from a humble fear lest we should displease God, 
 betray our trust, and injure their souls by the 
 neglect : if, at the same time, our behaviour to 
 them be, as it surely should be, constantly obliging : 
 if we do our utmost, so far as truth and justice will 
 permit, to guard and shelter their character in the 
 world ; and bring our complaints of them to none 
 but themselves : bad as the world is, I believe few 
 will quarrel with us upon this account ; but we 
 ! shall see, as Solomon observed, that he who re- 
 buketh a man will afterwards find more favour than 
 he that flattereth with bis tongue. 
 
 But supposing the worst that can happen, that 
 folly and wickedness should prevail so far, over all 
 the tender and prudent address of the friend and 
 the pastor, as to render us evil for so great a good, 
 and hatred for so generous and so self-denying an 
 instance of love, how could that hatred be ex- 
 pressed ? Seldom in any more formidable manner, 
 than by withdrawing from our ministry, and dis- 
 I continuing what they have done for our support ; 
 for the revilings of persons of such a character can 
 seldom hurt any but themselves. Now I hope, 
 brethren, we shall always retain so much of a 
 manly, not to say a Christian, spirit, as to choose to 
 retrench some of our expenses, to forego some of 
 the entertainments of life, to cast ourselves and 
 families on Providence; or even, if it were neces- 
 sary, to subsist in an honest and creditable poverty 
 by the daily labour of our own hands; much rather 
 than meanly to crouch to such haughty sinners, 
 and sacrifice duty, honour, and conscience, to the 
 arrogance of their petulant temper. Let us fear 
 God as we ought, and we shall find notliing to fear 
 from them ; but should be willing to imitate the 
 fidelity and courage of the Baptist, though the 
 1 wrath of a king might be provoked by it, and im- 
 ' prisonment or martyrdom might be its reward. 
 • I hope such considerations as these may effec- 
 ' tually obviate the excuses which indolence or 
 cowardice may be ready to form, from our neglect 
 of men's souls ; especially when we go on, 
 
 II. To con.sider the great evil of that neglect, as 
 
 it appears in the sight of God, notwithstanding all 
 these excuses, or any of the like kind, with which 
 we may endeavour to palliate it. 
 
 But who can fully represent it, as it appears to 
 bis capacious and all-penetrating view ? What hu- 
 man mind can conceive the infinite evil? It is not. 
 Sirs, a subject on which to display the wantonness 
 of wit, or the colourings of artificial harangue : a 
 terrible kind of solemnity attends it, and I attempt 
 the display of it with fear and trembling. If it 
 seems a light matter to us to forbear to deliver 
 those that in this sense are drawn unto death, and 
 them that are thus ready to perish, consider, my 
 brethren, and oh, may my own conscience always 
 consider, — what the death of the soul is ; — how 
 many wretched souls are continually dying around 
 us ;— what gracious provision God has made to 
 prevent it ; — and what peculiar obligations we are 
 under to labour to the utmost for the preservation 
 of their lives. 
 
 1. Let us think, " what the death of the soul is." 
 
 The apostle James intimates, that it is a thought 
 of great importance, when he says. He that shall 
 turn a sinner from the error of his way, shall save 
 a soul from death : as if he had said, Do but reflect 
 what that is, and you will find your success is its 
 own reward. We well know, that to save a soul 
 from deatli, is not merely to prevent the extinction 
 of its being, though even that were much ; but to 
 prevent its positive, its lasting, its eternal misery. 
 It is to prevent its being slain by the pointed and 
 flaming sword of the divine justice. 
 
 It is a tragical spectacle to behold a criminal 
 dying by human laws, even where the methods of 
 execution are gentle ; as, through the lenity of ours, 
 they generally arc amongst us : and I doubt not, but 
 it would grieve us to the heart, to see any who had 
 been under our ministerial care in that deplorable 
 circumstance. But oh, how much more deeply 
 must it pierce our very souls, to see them led forth 
 to that last dreadful execution, with those of whom 
 Christ shall s<iy. As for these mine enemies, who 
 would not that I should reign over them, bring 
 them forth, and slay them before me ! Oh how will it 
 wound us, to hear the beginning of those cries and 
 wailings, which must never end ! How shall wc en- 
 dure the reflection, " These wretches are perishing 
 for ever, in part because I would not take any i)ains 
 to attempt their salvation !" And is this so si range 
 a suppo.sition, that some once under our ministry 
 may then perish in our sight ? Would to God, that 
 it were less probable ! But, on the contrary, let us, 
 2. Consider, " how many souls, precious and 
 immortal as they are, seem to be continually dying 
 around us." 
 
 Are there but few that miscarry ? Let Peter in- 
 form us, when he says, Tliat (lie righteous scarcely 
 arc saved. Yea, let our Lord himself inform us. 
 
906 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 when he says, Stiail is tl>c {rate, and narrow is the 
 wa>, tliat leadetli unto life, anil few there be that 
 find it ; whereas wide is the pate, and broad is the 
 way, that leadeth to destruction, and many tliere 
 be that fjo in thereat. We grieve to see epidemical 
 distempers prevailinij; around us ; we are ready, as 
 Providence calls us, to visit the sick and the dying' ; 
 and conld take little pleasure in our own health, if 
 we (lid not endeavour to succour them, as we have 
 opportunity. But let us look round, and sec, 
 w hetiicr that distemper, which threatens the death 
 of souls, be not epidemical in<leed. With all the 
 allowances which that charity can make, whicli 
 believeth ail things, and hopeth all things, which it 
 can with any shadow of reason hope and believe; 
 must we not own, tliere are marks of eternal deatii 
 on many f and that there are many more, in whom 
 wc can see notliing which looks like a token of 
 spiritual life .' So that the best we can say of them 
 is, that possibly tliere may be some latent sparks of 
 it concealed in the heart, which as yet produce no 
 effect to the honour of their profession, or the benefit 
 of the world. In the mean time, sinners are spread- 
 ing their infidelity, and their vices, far and wide ; 
 as if, like some illustrious wretches that have been 
 miscalled heroes, they accounted the destruction of 
 numbers their glory. Can we behold such a con- 
 tagion spreading itself even in the Christian church, 
 which ought to be healthful as the regions of para- 
 dise, and noi bitterly lament it before God ? Or can 
 we seriously lament it, and not endeavour its re- 
 dress? Especially when we consider, 
 
 3. " What gracious provision God hath made to 
 prevent their death." 
 
 Is there not indeed balm in Gilead ? Is there not 
 a physician there? evf.i this glorious gospel of the 
 blessed God, whose efficacy we have so often heard 
 of, and seen? And shall they yet perish? Adored 
 be the riches of divine grace, we know (and it is 
 infirotely the most important part of our knowledge) 
 that there is a rich and free pardon proclaimed, to 
 all that will sue it out, and accept the benefit in a 
 proper, that is, a grateful, manner ; for cordial ac- 
 ceptance, and real gratitude, is all it demands. 
 One would expect, the tidings should be as life to 
 the dead : but we see how coldly they are received ; 
 how shamefully they are slighted ; how generally, 
 yea, how obstinately, they are rejected. And what 
 is the consequence ? Refusing to believe on the Son 
 of God, they shall not see life, but the wrath of 
 God abideth on them, with an additional weight of 
 vengeance, as it well may. Now is not this enough 
 to make our very hearts bleed, to think, that im- 
 mortal souls should die under the gospel ; die under 
 aggravated guilt and ruin ? So that instead of being 
 any thing the better for this delightful message of 
 peace and grace, they should be for ever the worse 
 for it ; and have reason to wish, throughout all 
 
 eternity, they had never seen the faces, nor heard 
 the Noices, of those that brought it, but had been 
 numbered among the sinners of Tyre and Sidon, of 
 Sodom and Gomorrah. 
 
 If we do not, on the express authority of our Lord, 
 believe this to be the case with regard to im- 
 penitent sinners under the gospel, we are not 
 Christians of the lowest class. But if we do believe 
 it, and are not affected with it, so far as to endea- 
 vour their recovery, I see not how any regard to our 
 own temporal interest, or that of others, can entitle 
 us to the character, either of prudence, or hu- 
 manity ; even though we had not been distinguished 
 by a public office in the church, but had passed 
 through life in the station of the obscurest among 
 our hearers. But it is impossible I should do jus- 
 tice to my argument, if I do not urge, 
 
 -1. The consideration of " the peculiar obligations 
 we are under, to endeavour the preservation of 
 souls, not only in virtue of our experience as 
 Christians, but of our office as ministers." 
 
 If we were only to consider our experiences, as 
 we are Christians, if we have any thing more than 
 the empty name, that consideration might certainly 
 afford us a very tender argument, to awaken our 
 compassion to the souls of others. We know what 
 it is ourselves, to be upon the brink of destruction, 
 and in that sad circumstance to obtain mercy ; and 
 shall we not extend mercy to others ? We have 
 looked to Jesus, that we might live ; and shall we 
 not point him out to them ? We have tasted that the 
 Lord is gracious ; and shall we not desire to com- 
 municate the same happy relish of his grace to all 
 about us? He has magnified the riches of his par- 
 doning love to us ; and shall we not, with David, 
 resolve, we will endeavour to teach transgressors 
 his ways, and labour to promote the conversion of 
 sinners unto him? Even now is he keeping our 
 souls : his visitation preserves our spirits ; and, as 
 it is by his grace that we are what we are, it is by 
 having obtained help from him, that we continue 
 unto this day : and shall his grace, daily bestowed 
 upon us, be in vain ? And shall not we have com- 
 passion on our fellow-servants, as our Lord con- 
 tinually hath pity on us ? 
 
 But our office, as ministers, completes the obli- 
 gation, when we consider the view in which the 
 word of God represents that office, and the view in 
 which we ourselves have received it. 
 
 As for the former of these, we are all acquainted 
 with those representations, and it is greatly to be 
 wished, for our own sake, and that of our people, 
 they may be very familiar to our minds. Let us 
 often listen with becoming attention to the blessed 
 God as speaking to us, in those words which he 
 once addressed to the prophet Ezekiel, tliat faithful 
 approved servant of the Lord : Son of man, I have 
 made thee a watchman to the house of Israel ; 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 907 
 
 therefore hear the word at my mouth, and give them 
 warning from me : when I say to the wicked, Thou 
 shalt surely die ; and thou givest him not warning, 
 nor speakest to warn the wicked from Iiis evil way 
 to save his life ; the same wicked man shall die in 
 his iniquity, but liis blood will I require at thine 
 hand. And with apparent reason may the centinel 
 be punished, for the desolation which the enemy 
 makes, while instead of watching he sleeps. 
 
 We are elsewhere represented as men of God, as 
 soldiers of Jesus Christ, as made overseers, or 
 bishops, by the Holy Ghost, as under-shepherds in 
 subordination to Christ, the great shepherd and 
 bishop of souls : and ought not the thought, gentle 
 as it is, to awaken us to a diligent inspection over 
 the sheep he has committed to our care ? Otherwise, 
 we are but images of shepherds ; as it is represented 
 in those lively and awful words of God by Zeclsa- 
 riah, which methinks might strike terror and trem- 
 bling into many, who in the eye of the world may 
 seem the happiest of their brethren : Woe to the idol 
 shepiierd, that leaveth tlie flock : the sword of di- 
 vine vengeance, which by his negligence he has 
 justly incurred, shall be upon his arm, and upon his 
 right eye ; upon that eye, which should have watched 
 over the flock, and tliat arm, which should have 
 been stretched out for its rescue ; so that he shall 
 be deprived of tl'ise capacities he abused, and be 
 made miserable in proportion to that abuse ; for his 
 arm shall be clean dried up, and his righ* eye shall 
 be utterly darkened. 
 
 Such we know are the pathetic views, which the 
 Scripture gives us of our office, and of the guilt and 
 danger attending the neglect. 
 
 I might, if my time would admit, further urge the 
 i views, witli which we have ourselves received it, 
 ! and engaged in it. Most of us, when we undertook 
 the pastoral charge, solemnly recorded our vows 
 before God; " that we would endeavour, witli all 
 diligence and zeal, to attend to the services of this 
 holy function ; that we would be instant in season, 
 and out of season, and labour to discharge the 
 private, as well as public, duties of the ministerial 
 life." These vows of God are upon us ; and every 
 ordination of any of our brethren, at wliich we 
 assist, adds a further and solemn obligation to 
 them. Let us therefore take the greatest care, that 
 we do not deal deceitfully, and unfaithfully, both 
 with God and man. For it is most evident, that 
 though the neglect of immortal souls is very criminal 
 in every rational creature, it is most of all so in us, 
 I who have so deliberately, and so publicly, under- 
 i taken the charge of them. 
 
 It would indeed, in this case, not only be cruelty 
 I to them, but the basest treachery and ingratitude 
 'to our great Lord, who has lodged sncli a trust in 
 our hands ; a trust which evidently lies so near his 
 heart. Having redeemed his people with his own 
 
 blood, he commits them to our care ; and having 
 acquired to himself the most tender claim to our 
 love that can be imagined, he graciously requires 
 this evidence of it, that we should feed his sheep, 
 yea, his lambs ; so putting our office in the most 
 amiable view, and bringing in every sentiment of 
 grateful friendship to excite our diligence in it. 
 
 However we may regard it, I doubt not, but our 
 blessed Redeemer considers it, as the greatest 
 favour, and honour, he could have conferred upon 
 us ; that being returned to his throne in the heavens, 
 he should choose us to negociatc his cause and in- 
 terest on earth, and should consign over to our im- 
 mediate care that gospel he brought down from 
 heaven, and those souls which he died to save ; 
 and that he should make it the delightful labour of 
 our life, to follow him in his own profession and 
 employment, to be, of all our fellow-creatures, his 
 most immediate representatives, and, in humble 
 subordination to him, saviours of men. Does not 
 the very mention of it cause our hearts to glow 
 with a fervent desire, and generous ambition, of 
 answering so high a confidence ? Could any one 
 of us endure the thought of betraying it .' 
 
 How could we, in that case, lift up our faces 
 before him, when we shall, as we certainly must, 
 see him eye to eye. Yes, my bre'hren, let us every 
 hour recollect it ; our Master will, ere long, come, 
 and reckon with us : he will reader to every man 
 according to his works, as my text expresses it in 
 exact harmony with the language of tlie New Testa- 
 ment. And which of us would not then wish to 
 appear before him, as those that have been faith- 
 fully attached to his cause, and have distinguished 
 themselves by a zeal for his service? Shall we 
 then, any of us, repent of our activity in so good a 
 work ? Shall we wish, that we had given more of 
 our time to the pursuit of secular interest, or the 
 curiosities of literature, and less to the iniinediate 
 care of souls? O my brethren, let us be wise in 
 time. We have but one life to spend on earth ; 
 and that a very short one too : let us make our best 
 of it; and lay it out in such kind of employments, 
 as we do verily believe will give us most satisfac- 
 tion in the closing moments of it, and when eternity 
 is opening upon us. It is easy to form plausible ex- 
 cuses for a diU'crent conduct ; but our own hearts and 
 consciences would answer us, if we would seriously 
 ask them, what that course of life in the ministerial 
 office is, which will then afl'ord the most comfortable 
 review, and tlirougli the riches of divine grace, the 
 most pleasing prospect. — I should now proceed, 
 
 111. To the further application of these things, 
 in so'Mc practical inferent^es from them : 
 
 Uut what I have already said, has been so co- 
 pious, and so practical, as not to leave room to 
 pursue such inferences at large. 
 
 You have all, I doubt not, prevented me, in 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 rcflcctiiijr on the reason we have to hunihlc our- 
 selves deeply in the presence of the hlessed tlod, 
 while we remember our faults this day. I do not, 
 indeed, at all question, but that many of us have 
 set before our people life and death ; and have, in 
 our iniblie addresses, urged their return to God, 
 by the various considerations of terror, and of love, 
 which the thunders of mount Sinai, and the grace 
 of mount /ion, have taught us. We have, on great 
 occasions, visited them, and entered intosome serious 
 discourse with them ; and have often, and I would 
 hope, more or less daily, borne them on our hearts 
 before God, in our seasons of devout retirement. 
 Blessed be God, that in these instances we have, 
 in any degree, approved ourselves faithful ! It must 
 give us pleasure in the review. But O, why have 
 not our prayers been more frequently presented, 
 and more importunately enforced ? Why have we 
 uot been more serious, and more pressing, in our 
 private addresses to them, and more attentive in 
 our contrivances, if I may so express it, to catch 
 them in the net of the gospel ? Let us ask our own 
 consciences, this day, as in the presence of God, if 
 there be not reason to apprehend, that some, who 
 were once our hearers, and it may be our dear 
 friends too, have perished through our neglect; 
 and are gone to eternal destruction, for want of our 
 more prudent, more all'ectionate, and more zealous 
 care for their deliverance ? In these instances, my 
 brethren, though it is dreadful to say it, and to 
 think it, yet it is most certain, that we have been, 
 in part, accessary to their ruin ; and have reason to 
 say, with trembling hearts, and with weeping eyes. 
 Deliver us from blood-guiltiness, from the blood of 
 these unhappy souls, O God, thou God of our 
 salvation ! And we have need, with all possible 
 earnestness, to renew our application to the blood 
 and righteousness of a Redeemer ; not daring to 
 mention any services of our own, as matter of con- 
 fidence in his presence ; how highly soever others 
 may have esteemed them, who candidly look on the 
 little we do, and perhaps make more charitable 
 excuses for our neglect, than we ourselves can dare 
 to urge before God. Let the remembrance of these 
 things be for a lamentation : and while they are so, 
 
 Let us seriously consider, wliat methods are to be 
 taken to prevent such things for the time to come. 
 
 They tiiat have perished, have perished for ever, 
 and are far beyond the reach of our labours and our 
 prayers. But multitudes to this day surround us, 
 who stand exposed to the same danger, and on the 
 very brink of the same ruin. And besides these 
 dying sinners, who arc the most compassionable 
 objects which the eye of man, or of God, beholds 
 on this earth of ours, how many languishing 
 Christians demand our assistance ? Or, if they do 
 not expressly demand it, appear so much the more 
 to need it ? Let us look round, my brethren, I will 
 
 not say, upon the nation in general, but on the 
 churches under our immediate care, and say, whe- 
 ther the face of them is such, as becomes the 
 societies of those, whom the Son of God has re- 
 deemed with his own blood ; and of those, that call 
 themselves the disciples, and members, of a once 
 crucified, and now glorilied, .lesus .' Is their 
 whole temper and conduct formed upon tlic model 
 of his gospel ? Are they such, as we would desire 
 to present them before the presence of his glory ? 
 What is wanting cannot be numbered; and, per- 
 haps, we may be ready, too rashly, to conclude, 
 that what is crooked cannot be made straight. 
 Nevertheless, let us remember, it is our duty to at- 
 tempt it, as prudently, as immediately, and as 
 resolutely as we can. Many admirable advices for 
 that purpose our fathers and brethren have given 
 us ; particularly Dr. Watts, in the (irst part of his 
 Humble Attempt for the Revival of Religion, and 
 Mr. Some, in his Sermon on the same subject: ex- 
 cellent treatises, which reduced into practice would 
 soon produce the noblest effects. 
 
 That those important instructions may be revived, 
 and accommodated to present circumstances, with 
 such additions as those circumstances require, we 
 are, this day, having united our prayers, to unite our 
 counsels. I will not anticipate what I have to offer 
 to your consideration in the more private confer- 
 ence, on which we are quickly to enter. To form 
 proper measures will be comparatively easy ; to 
 carry then> strenuously into execution will be the 
 great exercise of our wisdom and piety : may pro- 
 portionable grace be given to animate us, and to 
 dispose them that are committed to our care, to fall 
 in with us in all our attempts, for the honour of 
 God, and for their edification and comfort! 
 
 We shall esteem it, my friends, a very happy 
 omen, if your hearts be with ours on this occasion; 
 and if you help forward so good and so necessary 
 a design, by your prayers to God for us. If you 
 are sincere and affectionate in them, we may hum- 
 bly hope, that he, of whom we ask wisdom, will 
 graciously impart it to us; and may assure our- 
 selves, that you will not only bear with us in the 
 plainest addresses to you, wliich fidelity may oblige 
 us to make ; but will add all the weight of your 
 countenance and interest, to support us in our ap- 
 plications to others, whether public or private. 
 And I have a cheerful confidence, that all will not 
 be in vain ; but that he, who thus powerfully 
 awakens our minds, will so succeed our labours, 
 that many, whom we find under a sentence of con- 
 demnation, and ready to perish by it, will receive 
 the forgiveness of their sins ; will be recovered to a 
 spiritual and divine life ; and, as the happy conse- 
 quence of all, will at length be fixed with us, and 
 with you, in the regions of everlasting security and 
 glory. Amen. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 
 ON ACCOUNT OF THE FIRE AT WELLINGBOEOUGH * 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To those Inhabitants of Wellinyhorovyh, at ivhose request this Sermon is published.-. 
 My dear friends, 
 
 The composition of laboured and polished discourses on occasions of solemn humiliation before God, 
 seems to me to have an absurdity yet greater than an exact elegance of dress at the funeral of a friend. 
 When therefore I appeared among you, on your late fast day, I was solicitous about little other prepar- 
 ation, than what arose from a view of human nature, a deep feeling of the several circumstances of 
 your aflliction, and a serious concern to deliver what might be approved of God, as suited to the great 
 purpose of your assembling, and subservient to your edification by tiie awful providence which occa- 
 sioned it. 
 
 With these sentiments I spoke to you out of the fulness of my heart, and the countenances of many 
 of you testified, that you heard me in the fulness of yours. When you surprised me with your unex- 
 pected request, that the Sermon might be printed, (whicli some of my reverend brethren tliat heard it had 
 before intimated as their desire,) I knew not how to deny it you, though I had excused myself to them ; 
 lest I should seem wanting in a due concern to keep alive upon your minds any good impressions which 
 might have been made by it: and on further consideration I was the more willing to comply, as such 
 melancholy accidents (though blessed be God, not in an equal degree) frequently happen, especially in 
 populous cities, and I do not recollect many single sermons which so directly lead to the religious im- 
 provement of them. I therefore set myself, as well as I could, to recollect what I had said, and have 
 endeavoured to preserve the same freedom in writing which I used in speaking. I have laboured, a.9 
 much as possible, to write from the life. The ruins of your town, the distress of your families, and the 
 mixture of hope and fear attending the present situation of your afl'airs, have been as it were before my 
 eyes and on my heart in almost every sentence : and I have frequently intermingled these meditations 
 with earnest prayers to God, that he so would lead me into the secret re<;esses of your souls, that what 
 you before heard, and will now read, may be like a nail fastened in a sure place. 
 
 The trouble of writing this Discourse in short-hand, and afterwards correcting the transcript, is so 
 little a matter as hardly to deserve your thanks. Would my other engagements have allowed of more, I 
 should have submitted to it with pleasure. I only beg that you, and others in your circumstances, into 
 whose hands it may fall, will read it attentively, atul that each of you will consider what consciencre 
 hath to say to the plain admonitions it contains; and if you feel your hearts warmed anew, endea- 
 vour immediately to improve those good afleclions, that they may produce holy resolutions, and yield 
 the peaceable and substantial fruits of righteousness ; that it may appear you have not suffered so many 
 things in vain. 
 
 These are my most hearty prayers for you. I hope you w ill in return excuse the defects of a Sermon, 
 which might have been more accurate, had it been less sincere ; and \\\\\ also pray, that I may be ani- 
 mated and cheered under the various and almost incessant labours, to which Providence calls me, by 
 seeing the world around me growing the wiser and better by them, and may finally be accepted of Him, 
 whom it is my highest ambition to serve and please : for whose sake I am 
 
 Your very affectionate friend, 
 
 and faithful humble servant, 
 
 Northampton, December ZQ, P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 * Preaih'd at AVdlinKliorougli, in Nortliamptoii'.hire, November 9, 1738. 
 
»10 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Amos iv. 11. 
 
 / have ovn-thrown some of i/oit, as God overlhrew 
 Soiloin and ilomorrah, and ye were as a Jirehrand 
 jtiiielud out of the burning: yet have ye not re- 
 turned unto nie, sait/i the Lord. 
 
 We are assembled this day (I liope many of us with 
 sensible and penitent hearts) to lament the burnins; 
 whioli the Lord hath kindled. You have wisely set 
 apart this portion of time as a season of solemn 
 fastinji^and prayer, that you may humble yourselves 
 under God's mighty hand, as those that hope he 
 will exalt you in due time. But what is that humili- 
 ation which he requires, and will accept ? Is it 
 merely for a few hours to bow down your heads 
 like a bulrush ; Is it merely to give us your bodily 
 presence in tliis place of worship, and hear the 
 words that are spoken in God's name to you, or in 
 yours to him ? Nay, I will add, is it merely to feel 
 some transient emotions of the mind, in the reflec- 
 tion of a providence which has left behind it such 
 deep memorials, as nature itself may teach those to 
 retain, whom grace doth not teach to improve them? 
 Sirs, if your assembling this day be indeed a rational 
 and a religions action, you come to inquire where- 
 fore it is that God hath called to contend by 
 fire, as Amos expresses it : you come that the voice 
 of the rod may be more distinctly explained, in the 
 name of him who has appointed it ; and, in one 
 word, agreeable to the language of my text, that 
 you may be engaged to return to the Lord that 
 .•smiteth you. 
 
 I could wish you had among you such an inter- 
 preter, as might be one among a thousand, to de- 
 clare to you his righteousness and his will, in such 
 a manner as might most effectually lead you to com- 
 port with it. But since the office of addressing you 
 on this occasion is devolved upon me, I shall en- 
 deavour to show, that you have at least consigned 
 it to one who is tenderly concerned for you, and 
 therefore will not, and indeed cannot, have the 
 heart, to amuse you w ith a studied form of words ; 
 but will endeavour, in the plainest and most faith- 
 ful manner, to advance some important instructions 
 and useful reflections, suited to the sad occasion 
 that calls us together. And though some of those 
 hints, like the providence that introduced them, 
 may seem not to be joyous, but grievovis, I hope 
 they may afterwards yield the peaceable fruits of 
 righteousness. 
 
 It is a great instance both of the wisdom and 
 goodness of God, that he has chosen to teach us, 
 not only by precept, but example ; in which respect 
 it may properly be said, as well as in the other, that 
 he has set before us life and death. The hearts of 
 men in all ages are fashioned in a great measure 
 alike ; and from observing the temper and conduct 
 
 of the Israelites in particular, in those various and 
 remarkable circumstances in which they are re- 
 presented, we may learn more of the corruption of 
 our nature, and draw more obvious lessons of re- 
 ligious instruction, than perhaps from the history of 
 any other nation whatsoever. One can hardly ima- 
 gine a circumstance, either of prosperity or dis- 
 tress, to which there is not something in their case, 
 which has an apparent correspondence ; and it is 
 evidently so in particular, with reference to the 
 event spoken of in the words of my text. God had 
 been exercising them with a variety of judgments, 
 and at lengtli, as that was one of the greatest, he 
 gives a commission to the devouring flames to break 
 out, and spread ruin and desolation in their dread- 
 ful march. Thus far their condition and yours 
 agree ; and would to God that it might rest there, 
 and that with respect to you, who are as brands 
 plucked out of the burning, there might be no room 
 to add, " yet have ye not returned unto me." 
 
 In handling the words, I shall, 
 
 First, Consider their contents ; and, 
 
 Secondly, Attempt the practical improvement of 
 them, with a proper regard to your present circum- 
 stances. Yet affecting as they are, and suitable as 
 the tenor of the Discourse may be, I am sensible 
 it entirely depends on the divine blessing and grace, 
 to make it successful ; to that, therefore, I humbly 
 recommend what I am about to say, and entreat 
 you to lift up your hearts to God, that he may give 
 you the seeing eye, the hearing ear, and the under- 
 standing heart. 
 
 I. I shall first, as plainly and briefly as I can, 
 consider the original meaning and contents of these 
 words : I have overthrown some of you, as God 
 overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah, and ye were as a 
 firebrand plucked out of the burning ; yet have ye 
 not returned unto me, saith the Lord : in which 
 words you will naturally observe, 
 
 1. They are reminded, that it was the hand of 
 God which had lately kindled a fire among them. 
 
 I have overthrown some of you, as God overthrew 
 Sodom and Gomorrah. I doubt not but these words 
 are to be understood, in a proper and literal sense> 
 of fire, and of fire kindled in the common methods 
 of Divine Providence. 
 
 They are to be understood of fire properly so 
 called. It is true, sometimes any of God's judg- 
 ments are compared to fire, that being, as you too 
 well know, a most dreadful and irresistible cala- 
 mity, when it breaks out among the dwellings and 
 possessions of men. Thus does the wrath of God, 
 whenever it is kindled, rage and flame ; thus does 
 it bear down all before it, and turn the most plea- 
 sant objects into heaps of ruin, desolation, and 
 horror. But here, I apprehend, it is to be taken for 
 proper fire, because it stands distinguished from 
 several other kinds of judgments, ver. 7, ct seq. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 911 
 
 from drought, blasting, and mildew, from the 
 palmer-worm, and the pestilence ; and it is very 
 remarkable, that it brings up the rear, as one of the 
 most terrible of all. 
 
 I scruple not to add, that Amos speaks of fire 
 kindled by the common method of Divine Provi- 
 dence. It is indeed said, he overthrew them, as 
 God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah, which, you 
 know, was by fire and brimstone, rained down upon 
 them in a miraculous manner ; but there is no rea- 
 son to take the words thus strictly, or to suppose 
 that such a terrible tempest of fire and brimstone 
 had actually fallen upon the cities of Israel. That 
 had been an event of so great moment and import- 
 ance, that probably the sacred history would have 
 been full cf it, and succeeding prophets would 
 often have referred to it, as more memorable than 
 even the calamity of Sodom, as such a visitation on 
 God's people would certainly have been ; whereas 
 there is an entire silence elsewhere, with relation 
 to any such judgment. And I am sure it is impos- 
 sible to infer it from hence, because the overthrow 
 of Sodom and Gomorrah was proverbially used for 
 any very dreadful calamity, and might with pecu- 
 liar propriety express any devastation that was 
 made by fire, though kindled in a common manner. 
 
 As for the fires here mentioned, it is possible 
 some of them might have been kindled, by what 
 men in their common forms of speech call some 
 unhappy accident ; and drought, and winds, and 
 other circumstances, might concur, to spread that 
 conflagration, which at first arose from a little spark, 
 or some trilling instance of negligence. Others of 
 these fires might be kindled by a cruel enemy : for 
 though Joash, tht father of .Jeroboam the second, 
 in whose days Amos prophesied, was in the main a 
 prosperous and successful monarch, yet being en- 
 gaged in frequent wars with his neighbours, it is 
 not improbable that the frontiers of his country 
 miglit sometimes suffer by them. And we are par- 
 ticularly informed of a Syrian war, which had hap- 
 pened some years before ; for wc are told, that in 
 the days of Jchoahaz, the anger of the Lord was 
 kindled against Israel, and he delivered them into 
 the hands of Hazael king of Syria, and Benhndad 
 his son, all their days, and he oppressed Israel all 
 the days of Jehoahaz. And since this Hazael car- 
 ried his inhumanity so far, as to dash even their 
 children in pieces, and to rip up their women with 
 child, it is no wonder also, that he should set their 
 strong holds on fire, as we are expressly assured 
 that he did. 
 
 But whatever was the occasion of the conflagra- 
 tion, whether the cruelty of enemies, or negligence, 
 or accidents, you plainly see, that God claims it to 
 himself, as his own deed, that he had overthrown 
 them ; agreeable to the general principle which is 
 laid down in this very prophecy, as what every 
 
 man's conscience must bear testimony to, that there 
 is no evil in the city that the Lord hath not done. 
 And it is a most evident and important truth, dis- 
 covered and attested even by natural religion, that 
 all the cflieacy of second causes is owing to the con- 
 tinual operation of the Supreme. He appointed 
 fire and water to be, in their various n-atures, useful 
 to mankind ; and when he pleases, he can turn both 
 into a scourge. Thus when the rains descend, and 
 the floods beat down the fruits of the field, and 
 overwhelm houses, with their inhabitants, it is he 
 that breaks up the fountains of the deep, and opens 
 the windows of heaven. And when the flames 
 break out with impetuosity, and the fiery deluge 
 spreads itself abroad, it is the breatli of the Lord 
 that kindles it and keeps it up ; nor does one single 
 spark rise or fall without his providential interpo- 
 sition and guidance. An observation to be applied 
 to all the other events of human life, and which the 
 sacred Scriptures every where inculcate, with a 
 plainness and spirit suited to its importance, for 
 the conviction of those ignorant wretched creatures, 
 who live without God in the world. 
 
 2. The prophet further leads them to reflect on 
 their own preservation from the flames, as an in- 
 stance of divine mercy. 
 
 Ye were as a firebrand plucked out of the burn- 
 ing: this plainly intimates, how narrow an escape 
 they had from the extremity of danger to which they 
 were exposed ; and so the expression is elsewhere 
 used, Zech. iii. 2. where Jerusalem is represented 
 by the same similitude ; Is not this a brand plucked 
 out of the fire ? It implies, tliat they were just ready 
 to be consumed ; that the flames were beginning to 
 take hold of them ; that the smell of fire had, as it 
 were, passed upon them, and they were scorched 
 and blackened with it ; but yet they were saved, 
 and their lives at least given them for a prey. 
 There may perhaps be some remote reference to the 
 case of Lot, who, when God was about to overthrow- 
 Sodom, and he loitered in it, was thus delivered ; 
 for the Lord, being merciful unto him, the men laid 
 hold of his hand, and brought him out of Sodom. 
 
 Again, as the prophet argues from their preserva- 
 tion, as well as their calamity, to enforce their obli- 
 gations to return to God, we may infer, that he in- 
 tended to represent that preservation likewise as his 
 work. Whatever acitidental engagements, what- 
 ever prudential conduct, might have been the means 
 of it, still it was to be acknowledged, that there was 
 the gracious hand of God in it, which prevented 
 their being destroyetl with their habitations. And 
 we lose more than half of the sweetness and advan- 
 tage of all our deliverances, if we do not see and 
 adore the gracious providence of God in them, and 
 aie not thereby engaged in his service. Which 
 leads me to add, 
 
 .3. It is also intimated in the text, that the design 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 of this afflictive ]iiovi(li'nce, was to bring tliein to 
 thoroiisli lopentani c and ictorniation. 
 
 Yet Imve ye not ri'turned unto mc, saith the Lord ; 
 phtinly iniplvin;;, tliat this was what niiglit, hu- 
 manly speaking, have been expected, and wliat was 
 by (Jod intended in tlie <lispensation. This gives 
 us a most edifying and important view of the nature 
 of true repentaiiee ; it is a return to God. All sin 
 is an alienation of the heart from the service of (Jod, 
 to wliieh wc are under ten thousand natural obli- 
 gations, all highly increased by tl;c revelation God 
 has made of liimself to us. Now the very essence 
 of true repentance consists in a return to God ; in 
 a deep acknowledgment of our guilt in going astray 
 from him, and casting oil" the easy yoke of his com- 
 mands ; and in renewed resolutions of devoting 
 ourselves, for the future, more entirely to his ser- 
 vice. That external reformation, which arises from 
 other inferior motives, is by no means worthy of the 
 name of religion. It may indeed be human pru- 
 dence ; it may be compassion to others, who might 
 suffer by our irregularities ; but till God is regard- 
 ed, yea, supremely regarded in it, we cannot rea- 
 sonably suppose that God will regard us ; which he 
 intimates, when he complains concerning the Israel- 
 ites, that they returned, but not to the Most High. 
 
 Again, the text further implies, that this over- 
 throw by fire had, in its own nature, a tendency to 
 promote sucli penitent and religious sentiments, 
 and that it was their duty to consider it in this 
 view. And indeed, whatever awakening judgments 
 befall men, it is their wisdom and duty thus to 
 regard them. The Lord crieth, and the wise man 
 will hear his voice: Hear ye the rod, and him that 
 hath appointed it. And thus God is represented 
 as sending very terrible calamities on the Israelites 
 in this very view : " In their allliction they will 
 seek me early, saying, Come, let us return unto the 
 Lord ; for he has torn, and he v^ill heal us; he has 
 smitten, and he will bind us up." And it is a most 
 important truth, that he does not afflict willingly, 
 nor grieve the children of men : which abundantly 
 justifies the goodness of God in all those penal 
 evils with which our world abounds. Life is to be 
 considered as a state of discipline, and our heavenly 
 Father has recourse to the rod, that it may give 
 wisdom to those, who are too giddy, or too stub- 
 born, to learn it by gentler methods. Thus did 
 God call to the Israelites ; tlius is he calling to 
 you ; and may his grace prevent the necessity of 
 joining with the prophet, when, 
 
 4. He complains that they had not fallen in with 
 the design of those awful providences, but still 
 continued an unreformed and impenitent people. 
 
 Yet have ye not returned unto me, saith the 
 Lord, notwithstanding this judgment, and all the 
 others with which it was introduced. And this 
 charge is advanced no less than five times within 
 
 six verses. " Though I have given you cleanness 
 of teeth in all your cities, and want of bread in all 
 your places; thougli I have withheld the rain from 
 you ; though I have smitten you with blasting and 
 mildew; yea, though I have sent among you the 
 pestilence, after the manner of Egypt ; your young 
 men have been slain with the sword, and the stench 
 of their camps hath come up into your nostrils ; 
 and though, to complete all, I have overtiirown 
 some of you, as God overthrew Sodom and Gomor- 
 rah, and ye were as a firebrand plucked out of the 
 burning ; yet have ye not returned unto me, saith 
 the Lord." Thus the awful Majesty of heaven 
 complains, that they had been chastised, and de- 
 livered, in vain. And, indeed, when we come to 
 examine into their history, we find the complaint 
 but too just. Could it be said they returned to 
 God, when they sold the righteous for silver, and 
 the poor for a pair of shoes ; when they trod down 
 the head of the poor in the dust of the earth ; when 
 they added whoredom and incest to all their other 
 iniquities ; and with mingled rapine and impiety 
 lay down before their idolatrous altars, on clothes 
 which (expressly against the law) they had taken 
 for pledges, and drank in the house of their false 
 gods the wine of those whom they had unjustly 
 condemned. Yet this is the account that God 
 himself gives of the state of things among them, in 
 tlie preceding chapter ; even he who had been wit- 
 ness to their sins, and had sworn by himself, that 
 he would not forget any of their works. So evi- 
 dently does it appear, that the human heart may 
 harden itself against the most dreadful dispensa- 
 tions of Divine Providence, and, like that of king 
 Ahaz, even in its distresses may trespass yet more 
 against the Lord ; unless the secret influence of his 
 grace be joined with the stroke of his rod, and 
 while he is chastening them thereby, he teaches 
 them out of his law. There is a reprobate kind of 
 silver, which will not be purged even by fire : when 
 the bellows are burned, and the lead consumed, the 
 founder will yet have laboured in vain. 
 
 Thus I have laid before you those particulars in 
 the text that appear to me most remarkable and 
 instructive. And though I doubt not but you have 
 anticipated me in your own reflections, yet I hope 
 you will now permit me, 
 
 II. To attempt the more particular application of 
 these things to you, of whom it may with such 
 evident propriety be said, God has overthrown some 
 of you, and ye were as a firebrand plucked out of 
 the f)urning. 
 
 And here let me solemnly entreat and charge you, 
 — that you acknowledge the righteous hand of God 
 in what has befallen you, — that you reflect on the 
 mixture of mercy, that has attended this awful 
 providence, — that you make it your earnest prayer, 
 that the dross of sin may be purged away by it,— 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 913 
 
 and that you long retain upon your hearts a perma- 
 nent sense of these important lessons, which you 
 have seen in so strong and so affecting a light. 
 
 1. Let me entreat you to acknowledge the righteous 
 Land of God in this calamity which has befallen you. 
 
 Let me address you in those words of the Psalm- 
 ist, Be still, and know that he is God. Be affected 
 with the sense of his interposition, and confess the 
 righteousness of it. Assure yourselves, Sirs, that 
 it is not only a general truth, that, as we before 
 observed, all second causes (and fires among the 
 rest) operate only by the divine concurrence and 
 efficacy, but that it is applicable to the present oc- 
 casion. It was the hand of the Lord that kindled 
 your fire, and his breath that fanned it into such a 
 terrible blaze. The wind, you say, drove it upon 
 some of the most considerable parts of your town ; 
 but under whose command is the wind .' and why 
 did it not blow towards an opposite quarter, so as 
 to bear it the contrary way, where it would soon 
 have died for want of fuel ! Or why did it not 
 sleep in an entire calm, which might have given 
 you an opportunity of extinguishing the burning 
 with little trouble and damage? 
 
 It was his hand ; and let it also be remembered, 
 it was a very righteous hand. Know, that God is 
 just in all that he has brought upon you, nay, in all 
 this he has punished you less than your iniquities 
 deserved. I mean not to insinuate by this, that 
 you of this town are greater sinners than those 
 that are round about you ; or that any inference is 
 to be drawn, as to the character of particular per- 
 sons, or families, from their share of this calamity^ 
 whether more or less. I would not by any such 
 partial arid uncharitable censure, add grief to your 
 sorrow. Nor would it be reasonable to do it ; for 
 in such providences as these, all things come alike 
 to all, and there is one event to the righteous and the 
 wicked. But this I confidently say, that all the 
 sufferers that hear me this day, how clear soever 
 they may have been from scandalous crimes, nay, 
 however worthy in their character, or however use- 
 ful in their station, have reason to acknowledge, 
 that there are with them, even with them, sins 
 against the Lord their God, sufficient to justify this, 
 and more than this: yea, such will be most ready 
 to say. It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not 
 consumed : justly might he have delivered us over 
 to indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, 
 to the rage of everlasting burnings, and the dark- 
 ness of perpetual despair : w e lay our hands on our 
 mouths, and our mouths in the dust, and cry out 
 guilty before thee. And while you are thus owning 
 God's justice, let me exhort you, 
 
 2. To attend to the mixture of mercy, which has 
 appeared in this memorable providence. 
 
 Let me call you this day to .sec it, and own it, 
 and to mingle songs of praise with your tears. 
 3 N 
 
 Think not, I beseech you, your case worse than it 
 really is ; but acknowledge the goodness of God in 
 every mitigating circumstance that attends it. 
 Most certain it is, most evident to every one that is 
 but a stranger among you, to every wayfaring man 
 that passes by your dwellings, that in the midst of 
 judgment God has remembered mercy. Why else is 
 not your wliole town consumed ; why are some of 
 your houses standing, in which to receive your suf- 
 fering brethren, and stores remaining, out of which 
 to relieve them ? Let me address myself to those of 
 you in particular, who were in the neighbourhood of 
 desolation? to you who were in a literal sense like a 
 brand plucked out of the burning, freed from the 
 flames, that were raging near you, perhaps I may 
 add, that were devouring all around you ; to you, 
 whose houses stand in the midst of the ruins, as 
 monuments of God's peculiar and distinguishing 
 goodness : now does he demand your sacrifice of 
 praise ; and see to it that you retain an abiding 
 sense of the mercy, and of that consequent claim 
 which he has to distinguished services from you. 
 
 But let me address myself to those, who, though 
 perhaps their houses were reached, had opportu- 
 nities (as I know very many of you had) of saving 
 some considerable part of your goods ; or to those 
 who had estates and substance elsewhere, out of 
 the reach of those flames, perhaps sufficient for the 
 comfortable and honourable support of your fami- 
 lies ; perhaps, after all this diminution, far more 
 than you were possessed of some years ago. Permit 
 me. Sirs, to tell you, that it would be very criminal 
 ingratitude, to think so much of what you have 
 lost, as to forget your remaining mercies : permit 
 me to say, that you have reason, as it were, to weep 
 over those floods of tears, which you have so pro- 
 fusely shed : to faint thus in the day of adversity, 
 argues jour spiritual strength to be small ; and per- 
 haps may discover such an attachment to the 
 enjoyments of this present life, as may awaken a 
 serious mind to more afllictive doubts, lest your 
 portion is here, or your gods are taken away. 
 
 But what shall I say to those of you, who have 
 lost your all ; your houses, your goods, your furni- 
 ture, your clothing ; and are turned out naked and 
 destitute, to seek your bread you hardly know 
 where ! I do from my heart condole with such of 
 you ; I have felt your aflliction myself, and, as I 
 have liad an opportunity, recommended it to the 
 consideration of otliers ; but you must give me leave 
 to remind you, that even in your case there is a 
 mixture of mercy. Why else are you living among 
 us this day ? Is it not something, that your lives 
 have been given you as a prey ? Is it not to be 
 acknowledged as a gracious circumstance in provi- 
 dence, that the fire did not break out in the night, 
 and surround you while you were sleeping in your 
 beds, so as to cut off, perhaps, the possibility of 
 
014 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 your own escape ; or at least to oblifje you, in your 
 lirst surprise, to (ly for your own lives, incapable of 
 assisting; those that were dearest to you? What if 
 when you had a little recovered yourselves from 
 your eonstcrnation, and come to examine the ruins, 
 you had found anion};; them the bones of a beloved 
 child, or of a friend, who had been to you as your 
 own soul f There had been a wound indeed, the 
 scar and the pain of which you must probably liave 
 carried to your graves. But your present losses are 
 mueli less deplorable : for, not to say how much tlie 
 spirit of a man may sustain these alllictions ; not to 
 plead, what good sense, and much more religion, 
 may do, towards reconciling men to some of the 
 inconveniences of poverty ; it is to be remembered, 
 that God may change tlic scene : hope at least is 
 remaining, and that not an improbable hope. God 
 has supported you thus far, and already carried you 
 through the most helpless and destitute days of 
 life, that you ever saw, or probably will see. Your 
 brethren, your neighbours, your friends, and bene- 
 factors, whether nearer or more remote, have pitied 
 you ; and pity alone, much more with those sub- 
 stantial expressions of it, is some balm to our sor- 
 rows. Let ine call you this day thankfully to ac- 
 knowledge the wisdom and goodness of the great 
 Author of our beings, who has thus made man tlie 
 guardian of man ; who lias implanted this tender 
 feeling in tlie human mind ; so that on the sight of 
 any re:-.)arkable distresses of our fellow-creatures, 
 we are moved by a most powerful, but amiable, kind 
 of instinct, to open our hands, yea, to draw out our 
 souls to them. Happy provision of the God of 
 nature and of grace, which makes the possessions 
 of the v^-ealthy and prosperous a perpetual bank for 
 the support of the distressed ; and opens, as it were, 
 amidst heaps of desolation, the sweet fountains of 
 benevolence on the one hand, and of gratitude on 
 the other ! These things call for your acknowledg- 
 ment ; and you are to remember, tlsatall those sup- 
 plies are ultimately derived from God, which, from 
 his additional goodness, he chooses to send you by 
 the hands of your fellow-creatures. And I would 
 hope, he will goon to do you good, and will so turn 
 your captivity, like that of Job, that your present 
 sufl'ering may serve to add a greater relish to suc- 
 ceeding and growing prosperity. At least with re- 
 gard to the true Christian, there remains another 
 more secure, as well as more important, hope; that 
 the soul may be enriched by what impoverishes the 
 body, and that these light afilictions, which are but 
 for a moment, may work out a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory : which if you desire, 
 then, 
 
 3. Make it your serious concern and earnest pray- 
 er, that the dross of sin may be purged away by this 
 burning. 
 
 By this, said Isaiah the prophet, (speaking of very | 
 
 terrible judgments, which God sent among the 
 Israelites,) by this shall the iniquity of Jacob be 
 purged, and this is all the fruit, to take away his 
 sin. Surely then it is meet to say unto God, I have 
 borne chastisement, I will not offend any more : 
 that which I know not, teach thou me ; if I have 
 <lono ini(|uity, I will do no more. So may it be with 
 you, and you will be unspeakable gainers by this loss; 
 gainers in the true comfort and happiness of the re- 
 mainder of life, and much more in the future state. 
 
 In pursuit of this blessed end, let me, my friends, 
 this day solemnly call you to search and try your 
 ways, and to examine what is that accursed thing, 
 which may have occasioned this trouble and dis- 
 tress. I cannot do you a kinder office, than to 
 assist you in the inquiry. Give me leave therefore 
 to suggest a few reflections ; by which I would not 
 be understood to mean any thing personal, for in- 
 deed I cannot intend it ; most of you are strangers 
 to me, nor have I reason to suspect peculiar evil of 
 any; but an acquaintance with human nature in 
 general, will very naturally lead me, in the present 
 circumstance, to turn your thoughts inward, that 
 you may accomplish a diligent search. Wherefore 
 has God visited you ? Wherefore has he written 
 these bitter tilings against you ? 
 
 It may be some of you have indulged yourselves 
 in a luxurious way of living; and therefore God 
 has stripped you of those things which have been 
 the instruments of it. You have, perhaps, taken a 
 secret pleasure and pride in gay dress, or affected a 
 magnificence of furniture, beyond your rank ; and 
 therefore God has consumed your ornaments, and 
 turned you out almost naked and bare. Or you 
 have, perhaps, been addicted to riot and intemper- 
 ance, squandering away your substance, and de- 
 stroying your health, and it may be, your reason, 
 with the abundance of good things God had given 
 you. Just is he then in taking them away ; for it is 
 a thousand times better, that intoxicating liquors 
 should be employed (as they have been here) even 
 to quench the flames, or that the choicest dainties 
 should be burnt up, and your money perish with 
 them, than tliat your reason should be impaired, 
 your health destroyed, and your families reduced, by 
 continued extravagance. 
 
 Perhaps there are some of you that have been 
 accustomed to make a kind of by-word of hell and 
 damnation, to scatter about in rage, or mere wan- 
 tonness, oaths and imprecations ; which in a pro- 
 fessed Christian is blasphemous impiety, and which 
 even an atheist must own to be at best but boister- 
 ous and unmannerly nonsense. And if so, justly 
 has God executed upon you that denunciation 
 against him that sweareth, justly has he caused his 
 curse to enter and remain in the midstof your house, 
 and consumed it, with the timber thereof, and the 
 stones thereof. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 915 
 
 Or possibly, in otiier of your houses, the lire of 
 contention has before been kindled ; contention be- 
 tween members of the same family, or between 
 neighbour and neighbour ; while a clashing of se- 
 cular interests with some, or the diversity of reli- 
 gious persuasions and practices with others, have 
 led you to forget the common ties of brotherhood 
 and human kind, and to burn with mutual ani- 
 mosity and wrath. Justly has God written your 
 sin in your punishment, and joined you as com- 
 panions in suffering and distress ; which must surely 
 teach you a better temper, if you are not quite in- 
 corrigible. 
 
 But among those of a more peaceable disposi- 
 tion, are there none that are conscious to them- 
 selves of dishonest gain? no merchant, or trader, 
 that has held the balances of deceit in his hand, 
 and has allowed himself to keep (as the Scripture 
 expresses it) a weight and a weight, a measure and 
 a measure, to buy by the one, and to sell by the 
 other? none, that have gone beyond and defrauded 
 their brethren, and practised arts by which they 
 would have thought themselves to have been greatly 
 injured, if they had met with them from others? If 
 such there be, that (as the prophet expresses it) 
 have coveted an evil covctousness to their house, let 
 tliem not wonder, if God has verified the words of 
 his servant, so that the stone has cried out of the 
 wall, and the beam out of the timber has answered 
 it. And so will it be with those, who may attempt 
 to found their rising houses in falsehood, and to 
 cement them with perjury. And if any have already 
 done it, by giving in, even upon oath, unjust ac- 
 counts of their losses, let them be sure, their sin 
 will find them out, and their unrighteous gain, the 
 plunder of their fellow-sufferers, will be bitterness 
 in the latter end. 
 
 But to insist no longer upon this head, it is very 
 probable there are some, whose conscience would 
 not allow them in such methods as these, who yet 
 may accuse themselves of having been formerly, in 
 their most prosperous days, backward to actions of 
 bounty and charity ; some, in whom the words of 
 Solomon arc fulfilled, They have withheld more 
 than is meet, and it has tended only to poverty. It 
 may be, when compassionate olyects have pre- 
 sented themselves, or been recommended to you, 
 your hearts, instead of being opened and warmed, 
 have rather been contracted ; and you have been 
 ingenious in finding out excuses for not bearing 
 your part in such expenses. And now, all that you 
 have spared and saved by such a mean and unwor- 
 thy temper is gone, and perhaps, through the 
 righteous judgment of God, has carried away with 
 it a great deal more : while the generous and com- 
 passionate Christian has at least had this satisfac- 
 tion, that a part of his substance is laid up in the 
 hank of heaven, and secured far beyond the reach 
 3 N 2 
 
 of any unhappy accident ; for nothing is indeed so 
 truly and so surely our own, as what we have laid 
 out on such charitable occasions. And I shall 
 have reason to congratulate you upon your present 
 loss, if having felt aflliction yourselves, and expe- 
 rienced the compassionate assistance of others, you 
 melt into more humane sentiments, and knowing 
 the heart of sufferers, be for the future more ready 
 to relieve them, and more abundant in every good 
 word and work : and happy for you will it be, if 
 the Lord purge away your dross, by the spirit of 
 judgment, and the spirit of burning, so that you 
 come forth from this furnace as silver seven times 
 purified, and take the divine image in brighter and 
 fairer characters. It has been often observed, that 
 places which have suffered by a kind of general 
 conflagration, rise more beautiful out of their ashes. 
 But there will be much greater reason to congratu- 
 late you, if by this means your tempers are refined ; 
 if the vain become grave, the luxurious temperate, 
 the profane religious, the contentious meek, the 
 fraudulent upright, and the sordid liberal. And 
 sure I am, that with such an alteration, you would 
 be happier in a cottage of clay, than you could 
 have been before in a house of marble and cedar. 
 And that this happy end may be answered, let me 
 exhort you, once more, 
 
 4. That you endeavour to retain upon your 
 hearts a lively sense of those important lessons, 
 which you might, as it were, read by the light of 
 these flames. 
 
 There are many very instructive truths, which 
 God has often spoken to you from his word, and by 
 his ordinances, which yet might, with some more 
 sensible demonstration, be learned from such a 
 scene of providence. And I doubt not but those 
 that are truly wise, and who have set themselve» 
 with strict attention to reflect on what has passed, 
 have prevented me in some of these meditations. 
 Let me for a few moments, however, recall them to 
 your minds, and suggest them to those who have 
 l)een cither too indolent, or too perplexed, to form 
 them for themselves. 
 
 I shall only mention two, which comprehend a 
 great many more, — How vain are worldly pos- 
 sessions, when compared with spiritual and eternal 
 blessings ! — And how unutterably dreadful is the 
 divine displeasure, by which fires will be kindled 
 so much more terrible than these ! 
 
 You have seen here the vanity of worldly pos- 
 sessions, and the superior value of spiritual and 
 eternal blessings ; and therefore labour to preserve 
 a sense of it. 
 
 You had often before read that expostulation. 
 Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? 
 for riches certainly make themselves wings, and fly 
 away as an eagle towards heaven. But perhaps 
 you never saw those wings .spreading so wide, and 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 lisinp; in so rapid a flight ; you never saw so many 
 families undone in an hour, the wortli of so many 
 hundreds and tliousands of pounds dissipated in 
 the air, and borne away by the wind in blazing and 
 smoking columns. You could not, when you came 
 to look over the ruins, distinguish between tlie 
 aslies of the most precious of your goods, and tlic 
 poorest refuse of them ; but tltev were mingled 
 together, like the dust of the dead. So vain is 
 wealth, and so uncertain is our confidence in 
 riches I Thus all our goods and our houses may 
 perish. And though our lands may seem a more 
 lasting possession, yet, as you have seen, flames 
 may devour the product of them, either before 
 or after it is gathered in : and our lives them- 
 selves, yet frailer than almost any thing else, may 
 fail us in a moment. This you have seen with your 
 eyes ; and forget it not ; but charge it on your con- 
 science, to observe the infinite dillcrence between 
 these transient enjoyments, and spiritual and eter- 
 nal blessings. Those treasures are not liable to 
 such accidents ; as neither moth nor rust <;an cor- 
 rupt, nor thieves break through and steal them, so 
 neither can fire break out and consume them. It is 
 a known story of Bias the philosopher, that, when 
 in danger of shipwreck, he saw others concerned 
 about their goods, which were like to be lost, even 
 if they escaped with their lives, he said, in con- 
 sciousness of superior worth, and therefore superior 
 happiness, I carry all my treasure with me. And 
 so can the Christian say. The most valuable trea- 
 sure is that, which by divine grace is laid up in the 
 heart, or, to speak with more strict propriety, in the 
 soul itself ; so that should devouring flames sur- 
 round the house, even the tabernacle of clay, or any 
 other overwhelming calamity demolish it, the 
 heaven-born inhabitant would escape with all its 
 riches, and borrow wings from the tempest itself, to 
 bear it on to eternal blessedness. 
 
 Once more, reflect how unutterably dreadful the 
 ■wrath of God is, by which fires will be kindled 
 much fiercer than these. 
 
 Our God, says the apostle, is a consuming fire ; 
 and it is a representation which God himself has 
 made, when describing his displeasure against sin : 
 Who, says he, would set briers and thorns against 
 me in battle ? I would go through them, I would 
 burn them together. You have seen a burning 
 town, and have found it, perhaps, an object of 
 terror beyond all your imagination. lJut remember. 
 Sirs, the day is approaching, when you must see a 
 burning world : for the day of the Lord will come, 
 and that as a thief in the night ; in which the 
 heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the 
 elements shall melt with fervent heat; the earth 
 also, and the works that are therein, shall he burnt 
 up. And though, long before that time, the grave 
 will have received ^ou, and you will have no portion 
 
 any more in all that is done under the sun ; yet you 
 yourselves must be called forth, and shall arise, to 
 be s|iectafors of that august solemnity : and you 
 shall all behold the day, when the sun shall be 
 turned into darkness, and the moon into blood ; 
 when the stars shall fall from heaven, and the 
 powers thereof shall be shaken ; when the heavens 
 shall be rolled together as a scroll, and all their host 
 shall fall down, as the leaf fallefh off from the vine, 
 and as a falling fig from the fig-tree; when the 
 streams shall be turned into ])itch, and the dust into 
 brimstone, and all the beauties of nature and art 
 shall be sunk into rubbish and chaos. Happy men, 
 who shall then be able to lift up their heads with 
 joy, knowing that their complete redemption draw- 
 eth nigh ; and who, according to the promise of that 
 God, who amidst all the convulsions and revolu- 
 tions of nature is still the same, look for new 
 heavens, and a new earth, wherein dwellcth righte- 
 ousness. 
 
 But let it be remembered, that all this pomp is to 
 usher in that day of judgment, which shall be a day 
 of perdition to ungodly men ; for a fire shall then 
 be kindled in God's anger, which shall burn even 
 to the lowest hell, when it has consumed the earth 
 with its increase, and calcined the very foundation 
 of the mountains. And in this view, let the sinners 
 in Zion be afraid, and let fearfulness surprise the 
 hypocrites ; for who can dwell with the devouring 
 fire? who can lie down in everlasting burnings? 
 Yet this, you well know, is the doom of every im- 
 penitent sinner ; a doom, to be pronounced by the 
 lips of Christ himself, in words which he has already 
 uttered and recorded, that, by weighing their terror, 
 we may be roused from our security, and be alarmed 
 to escape it : Depart from me, ye cursed, into ever- 
 lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. 
 Nor can you imagine the sentence shall be pro- 
 nounced in vain, or that all the confederate nations 
 of the condemned shall be able to ward it off. But 
 who can sustain the terror of its execution ? What, 
 if, while your habitations were in flames, and you 
 were endeavouring to escape for your lives, a host 
 of armed enemies had cut off your retreat, and 
 forcibly driven you back to the fire? You cannot 
 bear the thought ; the horror of it strikes you to the 
 heart, and nature shudders at it. But will it not 
 be infinitely more terrible, when legions of angels 
 with irresistible power urge you on, and the wrath 
 of God like an overflowing torrent sweeps you 
 away, into the lake that burns with fire and brim- 
 stone ? Wretched creatures, that are yet obnoxious 
 to such a destruction ! Weep not. Sirs, if this be 
 the case, for your houses and goods consumed. 
 Weep not for your substance wasted, and your 
 families undone. You have a far juster cause for 
 deep lamentation. Mourn over your perisliing 
 souls. Say not, we will recover our affairs as fast 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 917 
 
 as we can, by renewed application to worldly busi- 
 ness ; and much less presume arrogantly to say, in 
 tbe pride and stoutness of your hearts. The bricks 
 are fallen down, but we will build with hewn stones : 
 the sycamores are cut down, but we will change 
 them into cedars ! Remember, that pride goes before 
 destruction ; and amidst all the most pressing cares 
 and hurries of life, let it be still considered by you, 
 there is one great concern, that even now demands 
 a more attentive regard ; that you may flee from the 
 wrath to come, to Jesus, who is appointed to deliver 
 from it. Think not of repairing your losses, and of 
 settling your affairs here ; but let me rather say to 
 each of you, as the angel to Lot, while he lingered 
 in Sodom, (perhaps from too great a regard for the 
 goods he was to leave there,) Escape for thy life ; 
 look not behind thee ; escape to the mountain, lest 
 thou be consumed. I must be insensible of the 
 worth of souls, and most regardless of the great end 
 of my office, if I were not willing to digress much 
 further than I h&ve now done, to give so necessary 
 a caution. May divine grace make it eflectual to 
 awaken those, who, if their present stupidity con- 
 tinue a while longer, must feel those flames, which 
 the\' will not see ! 
 
 But I trust, my brethren, there are those of you, 
 v^ hom God has plucked as brands out of the burn- 
 ing, in the noblest and most important sense of 
 these words, and who have sought and found your 
 shelter from this most terrifying prospect, in the 
 grace of the gospel covenant. Whatever your other 
 circumstances are, be thankful for this most gracious 
 interposition ; let your losses and sorrows sit light 
 on your hearts, while God has appointed salvation 
 itself for walls and bulwarks. But still be sure that 
 you maintain that active zeal and continued watch- 
 fulness, which suits your obligations to God, and 
 your expectations from him ; and seeing that you 
 look for such things, be diligent, that you may be 
 found of him in peace. In the mean time, encourage 
 yourselves in the Lord your God, well knowing, that 
 if the foundations of the earth were to shake, and 
 the arches of heaven to burst asunder, it becomes 
 the soul that is supported by its God, to stand the 
 shock with intrepid courage ; as being assured, that 
 nothing can finally crush and overwhelm him, who 
 is covered by the shield of the Almighty ; and that 
 the trial of the good man's faith, which is far more 
 precious than that of gold which perishes, though 
 tried in the (ire, will certainly be found to honour 
 and joy at last. 
 
 Such may the event of all your trials be! So 
 may divine grace animate every heart that hears 
 me ! So may it visit all who have been sufferers by 
 the loss, or shared in the alarm, though they share 
 not with us in the devotions, of this day ! May the 
 compassionate eye of God regard you and your 
 habitations ! May his providence cement, strength- 
 
 en, and adorn them ; for except the Lord build the 
 city, they labour in vain that build it ! May the 
 candle of the Lord shine on your tabernacle, and 
 his Spirit enlighten and renew your souls ! May 
 peace and prosperity, friendship and religion, al- 
 ways flourish in this town and neighbourhood! 
 And, in a word, may God so compassionate your 
 calamity, as to give you joy for mourning, and 
 beauty for ashes ; that those who have lamented 
 over you may rejoice with you ; and that at length 
 you may share the security and joy of the city of 
 God, even the heavenly Jerusalem, where no flames 
 shall be felt, but those of love, and no sound heard, 
 but the accents of everlasting triumph and praise ! 
 Amen. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 The followinj; Hymn, though not considerable on any other account, 
 was judged so suitable to the occasion, that many of my friends united 
 in tlieir request, that it niii^ht be printed with the Sermon after which 
 it was sung:: I was the more willir)g- to comply with it, lest the multi- 
 plication of incorrect copies should make it yet more imperfect than it 
 is. But hardly any tl)inj; wiisever further from my thou;^hts, than the 
 publication, either of this, or of the Discourse itself. 
 
 THE HYMN. 
 I. 
 
 Etf.rxal God ! our humbled souls 
 
 Low in thy presence bow : 
 With all thy magazines of wrath, 
 
 How terrible art thou ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Fanned by thy breath, huge sheets of flame 
 
 Do like a deluge pour ! 
 And all our confidence of wealth 
 
 Lies mouldered in an hour. 
 
 III. 
 
 Led on by thee, in horrid pomp. 
 
 Destruction rears ils head ; 
 And blackened walls, and smoking heaps, 
 
 Through all our streets are spread. 
 IV. 
 
 Deep in our dust we lay us down, 
 
 And mourn thy righteous ire; 
 Yet bless that hand of guardian love 
 
 Which snatched us from the fire. 
 V. 
 
 O that the hateful dregs of sin, 
 
 Like dross, were perished there j 
 That in fair lines our purer souls 
 
 Might thy bright image bear ! 
 VL 
 
 So might we view with dauntless eyes 
 
 That last tremendous day, 
 When earth, and seas, and stars, and skies, 
 
 In flames shall melt away ! 
 
918 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 
 COMPASSION TO THE SICK, RECOMMENDED AND URGED* 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To Ihe Rif/lit Honourable flu: Earl of Halifax. 
 
 My loud, 
 
 The generous and active zeal witli which you have espoused the charity this Sermon is intended to 
 reconiincnd, and tlic assiduity with which you have vouchsafed to preside in tlie committee appointed for 
 ripcnini; the general sciicme, and bringing it into ellcct, miglit justly have entitled your Lordship to this 
 application ; liad your various abilities been much less conspicuous, and the other parts of your charac- 
 ter (incomparably more valuable than any abilities) been less known to the autlior, or less reverenced 
 by him. Yet I am very sensible, that the plain and hasty Discourse, which I have now the honour of 
 presenting to your Lordship, might fear tbe review of an eye so accustomed to all that is eloquent, beau- 
 tiful, and finished, in antiquity, did it not trust to that kind prejudice, which your attacliment to its gene- 
 ral design will naturally give you in its favour. ' 
 
 I am sensible, how impertinent it would be in me on this occasion, to give myself a liberty of saying 
 all the respectful things, wliicli from my heart I think of the Earl of Halifax, or to imagine, that his 
 general permission of inscril)ing this Sermon to him would authorize the doing it. But it would be over- 
 rigorous in your Lordship to j)roliibit my intimating that pleasure I Iiave shared with so many more dis- 
 cerning persons than myself, in observing that accurate judgment, that steady application, that impartial 
 equity, and that engaging address, with which your Lordship, under the character of our chairman, has 
 conducted the counsels and affairs of the committee. I know that I speak the sentiments of several of 
 its members, and I believe I speak the sentiments of all, w hen I say, that in the fatigue of that close at- 
 tendance which we have thought it our duty to give on this good occasion, we have often been relieved 
 by rellecting, as it was most natural to do, on the benefit which the public must receive from such talents, 
 when exerted in the highest assembly of our nation. There your Lordship finds a sphere of action more 
 amply proportioned to the largeness of your heart, and suited to tliat high sense of liberty and benevo- 
 lent concern for the general good, which is the brightest ornament of a peer, and of a Briton. 
 
 Go on, niy Lord, to shine in this ornament more and more. Animated by every principle which hu- 
 manity, and nobility, and (what is most humane and most noble) true Christianity, can suggest; go on 
 to exert the distinguished capacities of usefulness with which Providence has blessed you, in such ser- 
 vices, and by exerting to increase them ; and willi them to increase that veneration and afl'ecfion, which 
 every worthy heart will pay you as its just tribute, and that infinitely more important and divine pleasure, 
 w hich your own will find, in the consciousness of having acted well. A pleasure, indeed, wortliy of the 
 most ardent pursuit, and on which heaven sets so high a value, that it allows it not to be treated with by 
 proxy ; nor will grant any thing like it, to the most illustrious birth, the most ample fortune, or the most 
 elevated genius, unless the possessor of them all will go to the price of it by a resolute exercise of per- 
 sonal virtue. 
 
 I rejoice, not for myself alone, but for my country, that our civil and sacred liberty hath one such 
 guardian among the rising nobles of our age : I hope it has many ; and I pray God their number and 
 their virtues may be increased ; and that wherever they are, they may be rewarded with a rich variety 
 and a long succession of external blessings, joined with that inward satisfaction which is inseparable from 
 such a character. 
 
 May your Lordship especially, not only have the sublime joy of beholding Great Britain distinguished 
 among the nations by public honour and prosperity, but see every thing which can conduce to your per- 
 sonal and domestic happiness, added in private life! And in particular, when you condescend to turn 
 your thoughts towards Northampton, (a town under hereditary obligations to your Lordship's family, 
 which I hope it will never be so ungrateful as to forget,) may you soon and long have the satisfaction to 
 see its County Hospital, which you are now so kindly cherishing in its infant weakness, grown up to full 
 maturity, and giving more certain presages of 1 eing an extensive blessing to generations yet to come! 
 
 I sincerely congratulate your Lordship, and tfic other illustrious nobles and worthy gentlemen who are 
 exerting themselves in this good work, on a capacity of doing greatly for its service, while my narrow 
 sphere will allow me little more than to wish it well. Yet it is a comfort to me to think, that this Dis- 
 
 • Preached at Northampton, September 4, 1743, in favour of a design then opening to erect a County Infirmary tliere for tlie relief of the poor 
 •ick and lame. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 919 
 
 course, in which (imperfect as it is) I flatter myself there will be found traces of an honest and a tender 
 heart not easily to be counterfeited, will be some memorial of the affection with which I have endea- 
 voured to serve it, and at the same time of the unfeigned and profound respect with which I am, 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 Your Lordship's most faithful, 
 
 most obedient, and most obliged humble servant, . 
 
 Northampton, October 8, 1743. P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The great desire which I have to promote that noble and amiable charity which is now set on foot among 
 us, has engaged me to comply with the request of some of my friends in publishing tliis Sermon, which 
 was delivered on too little notice to allow of much preparation. But indeed very little reflection is 
 necessary, where the arguments in its favour are so obvious ; and little art can be required to plead a 
 cause, which, as soon as it is admitted to a short hearing, speaks so loudly and so eloquently for itself. 
 
 The only plausible objections, which I remember to have heard against it, are these two : — That the 
 distant parts of the county can expect little benefit by it ; — and that any private house, which can be 
 taken for the purposes of a County Hospital, can bear but little proportion to what the necessities of so 
 large a county will require. But I hope, neither of these objections will be found unanswerable ; and if 
 every objector will do his part towards removing them, I am sure they cannot be found so. 
 
 I apprehend myself to have no right to speak here of the particular precautions, which the committee 
 has taken with regard to the first of these ; but shall refer the reader to the statutes of the intended 
 Hospital, when they shall be published, as they quickly will. But it may and ought to be taken for 
 granted, till the contrary appear, (which I persuade myself it never will,) that the rules for the admission 
 of patients will be so constituted among us, as well as elsewhere, that patients coming from distant parts 
 will have some preference given them, to those that are near home. And as none but chronical cases 
 are like to offer from a distance, if due precautions be taken in writing and answering letters, in the 
 representation of cases, and in bringing patients, I cannot see any probability of frequent disappointments. 
 If the contrary be suspected, let gentlemen and others, who are willing to act for the encouragement of 
 the charity, if it be duly ordered, favour us with their presence at our next general meeting of subscribers, 
 and there let them examine what the committee will then ofl'er on this head, as well as on others ; and 
 if they are not satisfied with what is already adjusted, let them propose any more cllectual methods of 
 making them easy on this head : they will no doubt be heard with all due regard, and the assistance of 
 their counsels be thankfully acknowledged by all who have the interest of the Hospital at heart. 
 
 As for the second objection, the force of it cannot be thoroughly judged of till the liouse intended for 
 the reception of patients be known, and the projected alterations in it arc examined. If after this it be 
 still insisted upon, that we should build, then let those, who are in that sentiment, subscribe their 
 respective benefactions for that purpose ; and there ran be no doubt, but the work will be joyfully 
 undertaken, as soon as there appears any fund so considerable as to render it safe. But in the mean 
 time it would surely be most unreasonable to clamour against any governors, or committee, who may be 
 established, for not attempting it, while they have no stock for so great an undertaking, in any tolerable 
 degree proportionable to it. This county, so well cultivated and inhabited, and celebrated for the seats 
 of so many of the nobility and gentry, is capable of doing great things if it pleases, and may, (like 
 Devonshire,) without feeling any sensible burthen, command a spacious and commodious edifice to arise 
 for this purpose in a few months; and if no unexpccled providence obstruct it, I know not what should 
 forbid us to hope and expect it. (Jood examples are already given, great patrons are engaged,* and 
 measures are entered into for soliciting the county in the most prudent and engaging methods that could 
 be contrived. The cflect will soon be seen ; and then, not till then, the managers will be able to judge 
 what they can at first safely attempt, and will, I dare say, greatly rejoice to see a much grander sciieme 
 practicable, than they have allowed themselves particularly to project. 
 
 It is with great pleasure that I see persons, who have been listed under opposite parties, and who 
 bear different denominations, cordially uniting to advance this generous .scheme, and consulting to make 
 each other as easy as possible in the execution of it. There is very little in the following Sermon, which 
 is not matter of common concern, as we are Christians, and as we arc men ; and I am not aware of one 
 word, which can reasonably give ollence to any : and therefore I hope, the name of the author will be 
 no prevailing prejudice against its acceptance and usefulness. I cannot think an attempt of this kind 
 
 * Tliis refers to the honour which his Grace the Duke of Montague and the Earl of Northampton liaro done us, tlic former in accepting the 
 office of grand visitor of the Hospital, and tlie latter that of perpetual president: as well as to tlic important assistance, wljirli tlie Earl of 
 H.alifax has (jiven, and is giving, as in every otiier generous and zealous sei vice, to the design, so especially in presiding as cliairnian in the present 
 committee for drawing up tlie statutes of the Ilnspital, and taking other preparatory measures for putting the plan into the most sjieedy and 
 effectual execution : circumstances, which in so lia[ipy a concurrence, has given a spirit and a weight to its resolutions, which it is hard to 
 imaaine how thi y could otherwise have had. I mention not the names of several others of the nobility, gentry, and clergy, who have distin. 
 gnished themselves on this occasion : the list, when published, will sneak the generosity of their subscription ; and other services, not capable 
 of bemg represented there or here, will, no doubt, live in the grateful memory of all who have particularly known them, without any such 
 
990 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 out of character in present cireunistanccs. I liavo peculiar oblin;ations to love a county, where I have 
 spent so many as-reealile years, and in the various parts of wiiich I have tlie pleasure of enjoying a 
 personal friendship with so many deserving people. But had I been only an occasional resident in it 
 for a fe« months or weeks, I could not have refused what little I might have had an opportunity of doing, 
 in subserviency to a design so friendly to human nature as this. Homo sum, humani nihil k nic alienum 
 puto. 
 
 P. D. 
 
 Psalm xli. 1, 3. 
 
 Blessed is he that considet-cfh the poor : the Lord 
 will deliver him in time of trouble. The Lord will 
 strengthen him upon the bed of languishin(j : thou 
 wilt make all his bed in his siehness. 
 
 It is matter of certain observation, and of delight- 
 ful reflection, that, under tlie administration of a 
 wise and gracious Providence, even the distresses 
 of human nature are so overruled, as to occasion 
 some of its most exquisite pleasures. Our own 
 have this effect, when generously encountered in a 
 good cause; or when, fiom whatever source they 
 arise, we bear them with a calm resignation to the 
 great Governor of all, animated by a humble con- 
 fidence in his goodness. And the calamities of 
 others, deeply as they wound every compassionate 
 heart, are the accidental cause of a proportionable 
 satisfaction attending every humane attempt for 
 their belief. This is what I am persuaded many 
 of yon, to whom I now speak, have often experi- 
 enced already ; and I hope, that experience will 
 now be largely and happily renewed. 1 am con- 
 fident it will, if what I am about to lay before you 
 in favour of the scheme, which is now opening 
 upon us, for a county infirmary to be erected 
 here, be regarded in such a manner, as I have great 
 reason to hope it will ; considering how noble a 
 charity it suggests, and how ready I have ever 
 found you to comply with every call of providence 
 to contribute liberally for the assistance of the 
 necessitous. 
 
 That important branch of Christian charity, 
 which consists in giving alms to the poor and in- 
 digent, has been the subject of so many of my dis- 
 courses, that almost every topic, and every argu- 
 ment, which I could think of to enforce it, has 
 been warmly and frequently urged upon you ; and 
 the fairest examples of such a disposition have 
 been particularly illustrated, that, charmed with 
 tlie beauty of them, you might go and do likewise. 
 Especially have you been often pressed by that 
 noblest and tenderest of all arguments, which arises 
 from the infinite compassion and benevolence of 
 the blessed Jesus, and the distinguished genius of 
 his religion ; as having charity for its declared end, 
 and rising above all other religions, as much in the 
 
 excellence of its tendency, as it doth in the dignity 
 of its Author. And therefore, without so much as 
 recapitulating what I have said on such occasions, 
 I shall make it the whole of my present work, to 
 suggest such things, as may have a peculiar suit- 
 ableness to that particular kind of charity which 
 we have now in view : and I think myself exceed- 
 ingly happy in this opportunity of offering you a 
 set of thoughts, which would never before have 
 been equally seasonable here. Many of them will 
 naturally arise from the words which 1 at first read, 
 as the foundation of my discourse : Blessed is he 
 that considereth the poor, &c. — 
 
 It would perhaps be too bold a criticism, to pre- 
 tend to determine the particular distemper, under 
 which David had been labouring, just before he 
 composed this admirable psalm. But I think it is 
 in general abundantly evident, that it was occa- 
 sioned by a violent and dangerous fit of sickness ; 
 in which he met with most inhuman treatment from 
 some base and wicked men, who had pretended 
 great affection to him. " Mine enemies," says he, 
 " speak evil of me, saying. When shall he die, 
 and his name perish? They think the distemper, 
 terrible as it is, does its work too slowly, and would 
 gladly, if they durst, aid its victory by murder. 
 And as for him who is the chief of them," (by whom 
 some suppose he meant Absalom, whose unnatural 
 rebellion might be ripened by the concurrence of 
 this circumstance,) " if he come to see me, as he 
 frequently docs under specious pretences of duty 
 and affection ; yet in all his most respectful con- 
 dolences, he speaks vanity and falsehood, and his 
 heart is in the mean time gathering iniquity; is 
 making one malignant remark or another, which, 
 when he goeth away out of my apartment, he pro- 
 claims abroad, to increase the disaffection he is 
 endeavouring to sow among my subjects : and their 
 mischievous counsels are quickened and inibolden- 
 ed hereby, while they say, an evil disease cleaveth 
 fast unto him, as a peculiar judgment of heaven 
 upon him ; and now that he lieth disabled in his 
 bed, he shall arise no more. Yea, mine own fami- 
 liar friend, in whom I trusted to have given me the 
 surest assistance in my pressing affairs, while I am 
 thus rendered incapable of attending to them my- 
 self, even he who did so long eat of my bread, and 
 had a place at my table, has, like an ungrateful 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 921 
 
 brute that strikes at his feeder, lifted up his broad 
 heel against me," as the original imports,* " and 
 endeavoured to do me all the mischief in his pow er." 
 
 This was king David's unhappy circumstance in 
 his illness, as royal dignity can neither secure the 
 continuance of health or the fidelity of friendship ; 
 nor fortify the heart against the sting of ingratitude, 
 especially in such a concurrence of afflicting cir- 
 cumstances. On his recovery he described it in 
 the most lively colours ; and to represent how much 
 it impressed him, he speaks of the scene, as if it 
 were actually present : and that a proper contrast 
 might set it off the more forcibly, he begins the 
 psalm with an affectionate reflection on the beauty 
 of a contrary character, and on the happiness to 
 which the possessor of it was entitled. Blessed is 
 he who considereth the poor. The original is yet 
 more emphatical and extensive : O the blessed- 
 ness, or the various felicities, of that man, who 
 wisely reflects on the case and circumstances of 
 him that is brought low.f The margin renders it, 
 him that is weak or sick : and another translation 
 gives it thus, Blessed is the man that provideth foi 
 the sick and needy ; which is a sense undoubtedly 
 comprehended in the words, though I cannot think 
 them limited to it. They speak of a person reduced 
 and brought low, whether by poverty, or oppression, 
 or sickness, or any other calamity, affecting mind, 
 body, or estate : J from whence it will clearly fol- 
 low, that where several of these causes join, as the 
 circumstance is peculiarly v\orthy of compassion, 
 the virtue, and therefore the blessedness, of him 
 who is ready to pity and relieve it, must be propor- 
 tionably great. 
 
 The word which we render considereth, is some- 
 times used for taking an intelligent view of a thing, 
 and sometimes for acting in a prudent and reason- 
 able manner, suitable to such views. § And accord- 
 
 n J They who can consult tlie original, and will give tlicmselvcs the 
 trouble of tracing tlie etymolofjy from ^^"1, and cxaminin;^ the many 
 places in which this word is used, will soon see the justice of this re- 
 mark. It most fre(|uciilly si;;rMlies poor, and accordiii|^ly is often 
 
 I opposed to rich; as, Lxod. xxx. Ij, Kuth ii 10. Job xxxiv. \'.). 
 
 I I'rov. X. 16; xix. 4; xxviii. II. It is sometimes renderril brought 
 low, in our version; a.s, Hsalm Ixxix. 8; cxiii. C; and cxvi. (i ; in 
 which last place the connexion shows it rel;ttes to sickness. It is 
 sometimes applied to streams emptied and dried up; Job xxviii. 4. 
 Isa. xix. 6. and sometimes it signities cniaciaicd, Is.i, xvii. 4. and is m 
 that sense applied to I'haraoh's lean kiiie, Gen. xli. lU and to Amnoii 
 
 I when pilling away for Tamar ; 2 Sam. xiii. 4. agreeably to which 
 n7TC derived from tlie same root, is rendered pining sickness, Isa 
 xxxviii. 12. And it is elsewhere used to express a weakness in the eyes 
 and linihs; compare Isa. xxxviii. 14. where DI'^cS »J'y "hi should 
 be rendered, mine eyes arc so weakened, {i. e. by lani^iiishiii}; illness,) 
 
 I that I am not able to look up ; and I'rov. xxvi. 7. which verse might 
 
 I most naturally be translated, As the legs of the lame sink under liim, 
 so doth a parable in the month of fools: Sidomon 
 thereby beautifully expressin;^ how feeble the sublimest discourses on 
 moral and religious subjects are in the mouth of a vicious man. I 
 know many critics have produced these two last texts, as instances in 
 I which V?T signifies to be lifted iin; but I believe, if most of the places 
 I in which the same Hebrew word is said lo signify contrary things, 
 ' were acrnrately weighed, they would be found as little to the purpose 
 I of proving that very improbable, and, in many instances, mischievous, 
 assertion, a.s these two. 
 
 } lias plainly the former signification. Neh. viii. 13. Job 
 
 ■ jjxxiv. 27, Psalm xiv. 2. Jer. ix. 24. Dan. i. 4. and the latter, 
 1 Sam. xviii. 14, 15, 30. P.«al. cvi. 7. Amos v. 13. 
 
 ingly it well expresses the cliaracter of one who 
 examines into the circumstances of the afllicted 
 creature of whom David speaks, and upon that 
 takes wise and proper measures for giving him the 
 most convenient and effectual assistance he can. 
 And as, on the one hand, it may be intended to 
 recommend the use of discretion in directing and 
 managing our charities ; so, on the other, it may 
 intimate, that where men overlook those that are 
 brought low, it is an evidence of a narrow inatten- 
 tive mind, that takes up with short and superficial 
 views of things ; whereas if men's sentiments were 
 juster, their affections and actions would be kinder 
 and more beneficent. They would find that nature, 
 and duty, and interest too, if rightly considered, 
 and justly estimated, would all dictate the same 
 thing on such occasions. 
 
 This will especially appear, when it is consider- 
 ed, in how gracious and condescending a manner 
 the blessed God, the Supreme Disposer of all events, 
 is pleased to interest himself in the cause of the in- 
 digent and distressed, and the kind notice which he 
 takes of the man that appears as a patron of such 
 persons. The Lord will deliver him in time of 
 trouble, or (as it might more literally be rendered) 
 in the day of calamity : as if it had been said, 
 " There is a revolution in human affairs, as well as 
 in the returning seasons of day and night, of sum- 
 mer and winter. Calamity will have its day, and 
 the time will come, when they, who are now the 
 most prosperous, will find themselves surrounded 
 with dark and gloomy scenes. And then may the 
 generous and charitable man hope to receive the 
 compassion he hath extended ; or, (as we elsewhere 
 read,) with the merciful thou. Lord, wilt show thy- 
 self merciful." And indeed one cannot without 
 astonishment, as well as delight, reflect on what is 
 so suitably and so tenderly added in the third verse, 
 to express the divine care of such a person. The 
 Lord, (Jehovah himself, in whom is everlasting 
 strength, and who bears up the pillars of lieaven,) 
 Mill strengthen him upon the bed of languisliing, 
 or, as it might be rendered, will support him, or 
 hold him up there ".H Thou wilt makeall his bed in 
 his sickness : ** some would literally render it, thou 
 wilt (-hange his bed, and explain it of turning a bed 
 of pain and distress into a couch of pleasure and 
 delight; supposing it alludes to their custom of 
 lying on couches in their banquets. But I think 
 the image which our translation suggests equally 
 suits the original, and is, on account of its tender- 
 ness, greatly to be preferred. The good man is now 
 supposed in his turn to be brought low by illness, 
 so exceeding low, that he is not able so much as to 
 sit up in his bed ; and God does not disdain lo re- 
 present himself under the image of an aflectionatc 
 
 II ny-\ Di«3 f i3*iyD» ** vSna nssn oswo Sa 
 
922 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 frieiul. or parent, who liolds liiiu up in his arms ; 
 and himself assists in turning his bed, and makim; 
 it easy to him, w hen, being too weak to rise, lie is 
 only able to sliift the sides. 
 
 Aniazcd and charmed with an expression of so 
 much condescension and endearment, I set myself, 
 with additional pleasnrc, as in the iircsence of tiiis 
 compassionate God, to open my mouth, and plead 
 the cause of the poor and the alllictcd ; and would 
 atterapt to cultivate in your minds, and in my own, 
 the temper w hich the words recommend. That I 
 may do it in tiic most suitable and useful manner, I 
 shall, 
 
 I. Represent the reasonableness of a compassion- 
 ate temper, tow-ards those in general, who arc lan- 
 guishing on beds of sickness. 
 
 II. Show liow wise and happy a method of ex- 
 pressing our compassion towards such, that whicli 
 is now recommended to us is like to prove. And, 
 
 III. Conclude with the mention of some circum- 
 stances in the present situation of alfairs, by which 
 the design is peculiarly recommended to us at this 
 time. 
 
 I. Let me represent in general how reasonable it 
 is, that we should feel compassion in our hearts to- 
 wards those, who languish under the burthen of 
 bodily disorders, and i)articularly are confined to 
 beds or chambers of sickness. 
 
 And this you will not only see, but feel too, if 
 you reflect — on the calamity of their state ; — on the 
 tender sense they naturally have of the treatment 
 they meet with in it ; — and how liable we ourselves 
 are to the same circumstances of distress. 
 
 1. Consider the calamity of their state. 
 
 Some of you know it by familiar acquaintance, 
 by dear-bought personal experience, and must have 
 the wormwood and the gall in a long and a painful 
 remembrance. Go back in your thoughts to those 
 chambers, which you were almost ready to consider 
 as your sepulchres, and those beds, from whence 
 perhaps you expected to rise up no more, or which 
 seemed as racks, if not as graves, to you ; and then 
 say, whether you were not objects of compassion 
 yourselves, and whether others, in the like cir- 
 cumstances, must not necessarily be so. Others of 
 you have, no doubt, been conversant with the sick 
 and the pained : reflect on what you then saw and 
 heard ; and letyoureyeand yourearaffectyourheart. 
 
 There are indeed some, who seem solicitous to 
 keep as much as possible from the sight of such 
 mournful objects ; as if they were afraid, that in such 
 a circumstance an involuntary kind of humanity 
 should invade their hearts, and force them on a 
 sudden, and as it were before they are well aware 
 of it, to do something more generous than they care 
 to allow themselves in. But no man, who hath 
 lived any time in the world, can be such a stranger 
 to human nature, and to human life, as not to know 
 
 something of the various distempers and accidents 
 to which we are liable in this feeble state, and of 
 the sad symptoms of sorrow that attend them ; fatal 
 elTeets of the entrance of sin into this world of 
 ours, and awful monuments of the divine displea- 
 sure against the first instance of it ! 
 
 I am not indeed learned enough to run over the 
 tcntli part of those names, which physicians have 
 given to the various maladies under which their aid 
 is demanded. But the fever, the dropsy, the gout, 
 the stone, the rheumatism, the cliolic, the asthma, 
 the cancer, the palsy, consumptions, and the like, 
 are words of dreadful import; to the general signi- 
 lication of which few are strangers, though perhaps 
 none, who have not themselves laboured under 
 them, can distinctly understand how much terror 
 they express. 
 
 Let us however think a little closely, (for the 
 thought may have an apparent tendency to humble 
 and to humanize our hearts,) into how sad an ob- 
 ject the greatest, the richest, the strongest, and the 
 fairest of mankind is reduced in a few weeks or 
 days, when attacked by any of these, and crushed, 
 as it were, into an early and an untimely old age. 
 When thou, Lord, with thy rebukes dost correct 
 man for his iniquity, how dost thou cause his 
 beauty and his vigour to consume away like a 
 moth, which moulders under the lightest touch ! 
 How are all the services of life obstructed, and all 
 its choicest pleasures blasted at once, as the opening 
 blossoms of spring by the severity of winds and 
 frosts ! According to that most natural description 
 of Job, when a man is chastened with pain upon 
 his bed, and the multitude of his bones with strong 
 pain, how does his life abhor bread, and his soul 
 dainty meat ; so that his flesh is consumed away, 
 that it cannot be seen, and his bones, which were 
 not seen, stick out ! In some distempers, what con- 
 vulsive strugglings, what terrible heavings and 
 pantings for breath ! In others, what deep sighs do 
 we observe, what piercing groans, what doleful 
 cries ! Or in persons of a more resolute temper 
 amidst a painful silence, what earnest speaking 
 looks, while perhaps large drops of sweat are 
 trickling down the face, and nature seems, as it 
 were, to be weeping its distress at every pore ! And 
 in cases less acute than these, what months of 
 vanity are many active souls made to possess, and 
 what wearisome nights are appointed to them ! 
 How slowly do the hours and the moments roll 
 away, while in the evening they say, would to God 
 it were morning ; and in the morning, would to God 
 it were evening! but find themselves criually dis- 
 appointed in their expectations of relief, from the 
 silence of the night, or the amusements of the day : 
 till at length perhaps nature is weakened to such a 
 degree, that it can scarce bear the voice of the 
 dearest friend, if a little louder than a whisper, or 
 
OCCASIONAL. SERMONS. 
 
 923 
 
 endure so much liglit as shall discover his counte- 
 nance ! God only knows, how many are at this moment 
 in a condition sadder than I have described, while 
 we are ourselves at ease in Zion, and are too little 
 grieved for the afflictions of our brethren. Yet 
 surely, if we have any thing of the man, and the 
 Christian, we cannot be wholly unmoved, but must 
 feel some tender solicitude rising in our hearts, and 
 must be casting about in our tiioughts for some 
 proper manner of expressing it, especially when we 
 consider, 
 
 2. The peculiar tenderness of the spirits in such 
 circumstances as these, and that exquisite sensibi- 
 lity, either of regard, or neglect, which is almost 
 inseparable from them. 
 
 Such is the vanity of human friends, that they 
 can do much to wound, where they can do very 
 little to heal ; their negligence can greatly afflict, 
 where their most solicitous care can adminis- 
 ter very little comfort. And this is more espe- 
 cially the case in sickness. When the blood 
 is impoverished, when the animal spirits are 
 weakened, and when melancholy humours pre- 
 vail in the body, little things impress with a 
 very disproportionate weight. Solomon hath ob- 
 served long ago, that when heaviness in the heart 
 of a man maketh it stoop, then a good word maketh 
 it peculiarly glad. And by a parity of reason, then 
 any thing that looks like unkindness in a friend 
 pierces much deeper, than at another time, when 
 nature is in all its vigour, and the business and 
 amusements of life divert the mind from pausing 
 on such things, and the imagination from dressing 
 them up in colours of its own, which, unnatural as 
 they often are, appear to the distempered mind in- 
 herent in the objects themselves. Sick people 
 likewise, conscious to themselves that they cannot 
 but be less agreeable than at other times, easily 
 conclude, that they grow insupportably burthen- 
 some to those about them ; and if great care be not 
 taken to prevent it, they will be very ready to infer, 
 that their friends are wearied out with them ; 
 and perhaps will secretly suspect, they wish them 
 out of the way, that they may be eased of their 
 burthen: while they imagine, like Job, that were 
 their friends in such an afflicted state as themselves, 
 they should study all opportunities of softening 
 their sorrows, by every circumstance of the most 
 tender address ; and then they bemoan themselves, 
 and think, surely it is enough to hear all this illness 
 and pain, without having the unkindness of such 
 and such a friend added to it ; and so perhaps the 
 saddest complaints of .Job, David, and Heman, are 
 thought over as applicable to their sorrowful con- 
 dition. 
 
 This is indeed very often their infirmity ; but we 
 should bear it, and pity it, and study, as well as we 
 can, to accommodate ourselves to it; for it un- 
 
 doubtedly makes their case much more afflicted, and 
 therefore more compassionable. And it will espe- 
 cially appear so, if we reflect, 
 
 3. How liable we ourselves are, to share in these 
 sorrows and these infirmities. 
 
 This thought is beautifully touched upon by the 
 apostle, when he says. Remember those that suffer 
 atllictiou, as being yourselves also in the body : as 
 if he should have said, " in necessary consequence 
 of being in the body, you yourselves are obnoxious 
 to the like affliction ; and therefore should readily 
 impart to your afflicted brethren such assistances, as 
 you in a change of circumstances would reasonably 
 desire." 
 
 And is it not most evidently the ease here ? 
 What are we. Sirs, better than our fathers ? better 
 than our brethren? better than those, who have 
 drooped, and sunk, and died, under such burthens 
 as those I have described ! Is our strength the 
 strength of stones, or is our flesh brass, that we 
 should plead an exemption from sorrows and com- 
 plaints common to our species ? In all probability, 
 they await us ; and would await us, if we were 
 nobles and princes of the earth : and God only 
 knows, how soon we are to begin our encounter 
 with them, or how soon they may complete their 
 victory over us, and bring us beyond the reach 
 of being helpful to men, or receiving help from 
 them. 
 
 And, which is peculiarly interesting, these are 
 probably some of our last scenes. When we have 
 done with our merchandise, our husbandry, or our 
 studies; when we have finished our journeys, our 
 visits, our sports, and our feasts; we must, unless 
 death surprise us with a very sudden blow, retire 
 into our chambers of illness to come out no more, 
 but languish away the remainder of our days there, 
 till the moment of our exit from life shall come. 
 There shall we need the compassion we are now 
 exhorted to extend ; shall need all the relief, which 
 a generous heart may then feel, in a consciousness 
 of having been, in its better days, an helper to the 
 afflicted ; and above all, shall need that divine 
 consolation, which God is ready to impart to that 
 blessed man, who has considered him that is brought 
 low, so graciously expressed in the text, by holding 
 him up on his bed of languishing, and by making 
 all his bed in his sickness. 
 
 And therefore, in the conclusion of this head, let 
 me entreat you to suffer the word of exhortation, 
 and to bear away in your hearts a firm resolution 
 of doing all you can to be helpful to the sick, 
 whatever their other circumstances in life be, as 
 Providence may give you an opportunity and call. 
 Consider those that are brought low ; reflect seri- 
 ously and tenderly on their condition ; for they 
 sometimes suffer a great deal from the mere inatten- 
 tion of those about them, who yet could not bear on 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 liny terms (lelihci ately to do w hat tlicy apprehended 
 cruel or unkind. Let us, as alllicted Job expresses 
 it, (as atllictcd persons know best how to speak of 
 alllietions,) put our souls into their souls' stead. 
 Let us inwardly commiserate their melancholy case ; 
 and let our behaviour express that commiseration 
 in the n>ost natural and {genuine manner. Let us 
 be ready, where it may be useful to them, to visit 
 them ; for visiting the sick is, you know, mentioned 
 amonn; those acts of charity, which Christ assures 
 us he will commemorate with peculiar honour, even 
 upon the throne of his glory. Let us patiently 
 bear those instances of frctfulness and peevishness, 
 into which under such a pressure they maybe ready 
 to fall ; imputing them to their distemper, and not 
 to themselves. Let us avoid every thing rough and 
 boisterous in our behaviour, near the apartments in 
 which they arc ; and let nothing be done which 
 might give the poor patient reason to sigh on his 
 bed, and say, " Alas, they do not regard me ! they 
 little think what it is to be ill !" Show in all your 
 conduct a concern for their comfort and happiness ; 
 show it, above all, by endeavouring by wise and 
 pious discourses to lead them into tiic best improve- 
 ment of their afflictions, and to form their minds to 
 such sentiments and characters, that through divine 
 grace they may be entitled to the noblest supports; 
 those which arise from a sense of the divine favour, 
 from pardoned guilt, and from a comfortable pros- 
 pect in the invisible and eternal world ; that so they 
 may not struggle at once with the agonies of a dis- 
 tempered body, and a wounded spirit ; but rather, 
 as the outward man declines, may find the inward 
 daily renewed. And to show how sincerely you arc 
 concerned for their spiritual, neglect not their tem- 
 poral, interest. If they are poor, extend your alms 
 to them, and endeavour to procure for them such 
 medicines, food, attendance, and other accommo- 
 dations, as may promote their recovery, or at least 
 alleviate their sufferings. It is what, I question 
 not, many of you are often doing, and you now have 
 an opportunity of doing it with some peculiar ad- 
 vantages ; as you will evidently perceive by what I 
 have to offer under my second general, the business 
 of which is, 
 
 II. To show how wise and happy a way of ex- 
 pressing our compassion to the sick and infirm, that 
 which is now proposed to us is like to prove. 
 
 You apprehend, that I mean our concurrence in 
 this scheme for establishing a County Hospital in 
 this town, for the relief of the poor, who are sick or 
 wounded ; into which, in extreme cases, they may 
 be freely received, and in which they may be pro- 
 perly assisted, without expense to themselves, or 
 the families to which they belong. 
 
 The very mention of this design might seem suf- 
 ficient to recommend it to every intelligent and 
 generous person ; and I am sure, none who have 
 
 perused the printed paper in favour of it, which 
 has been generously published and spread over the 
 « hole county, can be uninformed on this subject : 
 nevertheless, as it may be new to some, and others 
 may have reflected but slightly upon it, I shall say 
 something briefly on the head, and I hope a few 
 words may suflice ; since the scheme wears so beau- 
 tiful an aspect, if only viewed in its first appear- 
 ances ; as well as appears so fruitful of good, when 
 attentively examined in its remoter consequences. 
 
 1. You will easily sec, tliat the scheme wears a 
 very beautiful aspect, if viewed only in its first ap- 
 pearances. 
 
 It promises, in its most obvious and direct design, 
 relief to the poor in their sickness ; and their case 
 is attended with many circumstances to recommend 
 it to our compassion, which have not yet been 
 touched upon in the preceding branch of my dis- 
 course. What I have said before might be suflicient 
 to prove, and one day's experience of our own might 
 in a yet more convincing manner demonstrate, that 
 sickness is of itself a burthen heavy enough, though 
 we languish upon beds of down, and have all the re- 
 lief we can derive from the skill of physicians, the at- 
 tendance of servants and friends, with every other 
 additional accommodation which the most plentiful 
 fortune can furnish out. What then must it be to bear 
 all this, and perhaps more than this, in the want of all 
 things ! What must it be for a person, who perhaps 
 found it hard enough to live when he was in all the 
 vigour of nature, and his own hands ministered to his 
 necessities, to find himself under his languor, perhaps 
 under his agony, destitute of medicines, destitute 
 of attendance, and it may be, destitute of conveni- 
 ent food, with hardly any thing but inclination, in 
 these cases no certain guide, to direct him what is 
 so. Or if, pressed with a sense of urgent necessity, 
 after long delay, he calls in such assistance, and 
 procures it, perhaps it is at such an expense, that 
 his spirits are broken with the thoughts of the debt 
 he is contracting, which either prevents, or retards, 
 or imbitters his recovery ; and when it is perfected, 
 almost tempts him to wish he had quitted the world, 
 rather than survived under such an insupportable 
 pressure. 
 
 But so far as the scheme now opening upon us 
 succeeds, this additional load of misery will be 
 taken off. The patient will be encouraged to seek 
 for timely assistance before his illness becomes in- 
 veterate, the neglect of which is, no doubt, yearly 
 the destruction of thousands : an^ when his case is 
 so bad, as to require his being taken into the infir- 
 mary, he will be kept clean and warm, with conve- 
 nient accommodations of food, physic, and lodging; 
 he will be kept under proper regimen and govern- 
 ment, which may shelter him, on the one hand, 
 from becoming a prey to ignorant pretenders, whose 
 chief merit seems to be, to sell diseases and death 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 834 
 
 at reasonable rates ; and, on the other, lie will be 
 protected from imprudence, which is oftentimes 
 more fatal than the disease ; while, according to 
 the rules of the house, it is put out of his own 
 power to indulge himself, or to be indulged by over- 
 fond friends, if such he have, in what would be 
 pernicious to his health. 
 
 In consequence of this we see, that many are 
 recovered in such houses as these, who have long 
 languished in their own, under tedious and ex- 
 tremely dangerous distempers ; some of them, per- 
 haps, after having, like the poor woman in the 
 gospel, consumed all their living on physicians, 
 and been nothing the better, but rather the worse. 
 
 Facts impress the mind more strongly than any 
 reasonings unsupported by them. I therefore think 
 it proper here to tell you, that I have made the 
 most careful observations I could on those yearly 
 accounts of other hospitals M hich have come to my 
 hands, viz. those of Winchester, Bath, Exeter, 
 York, Bristol, and the London and Westminster 
 infirmaries. Few of these have reached back far- 
 ther than three years, and some have extended only 
 to one ; and I find, on the whole, that we have an 
 account of seven thousand three hundred and 
 thirty, who are known, or supposed, to be cured, 
 and only of seven hundred and eighty-four, who 
 have died, or been discharged as incurable: so 
 that it should seem by tliis hasty and imperfect 
 calculation, (for such I confess it to be,) that near 
 ten patients have been relieved for one who has 
 failed of success. 
 
 I find palsies, dropsies, consumptions, fevers, 
 leprosies, rheumatisms, cholics, stone, as well as 
 multitudes of ulcers, fractures, dislocations, and 
 the like, on the list of those calamities from which 
 these poor creatures have been relieved : and it 
 further appears, that great numbers of these had 
 been languishing under their distempers two years, 
 others five, ten, twelve, fourteen, and a few twenty 
 years; and this after some of them had been re- 
 duced to so low an ebb, that their admission was 
 blamed as a hopeless attempt, yet a few months 
 have turned their captivity, and they have gone 
 out from those gates vigorous and cheerful, into 
 which they were brought almost like corpses, borne 
 on men's shoulders.* 
 
 What heart does not feel a secret pleasure at 
 hearing such an article ? Who would not rejoice if 
 even large contributions could be the means of 
 procuring so happy cflects ? But it ought further to 
 be considered, in favour of this design, that there 
 is, in proportion to the good to be expected from it, 
 great frugality and liberality so dispensed. For it 
 is certain, (as many have observed on such occa- 
 
 » I am rreiiilily informed, that at Exfter tlirre lias been an iristanii; 
 or two of persons, wlio, on account of tlieir extreme weakness were 
 bron-ht uito the liospilal laid in their coffins, who have gone out car- 
 rying their coffins on tiieir backs. 
 
 sions,) that a small sura thus managed will go 
 further than a much larger given to relieve the sick 
 poor at their own houses ; as the same person may 
 attend on diflerent patients at the same time ; and 
 as the medicines and provisions to be used in the 
 house may be bought at the best hand ; whereas it 
 is often, and I fear too justly, said, the poor gene- 
 rally pay dearer than others for what they have.f 
 What is thus given is also much securer from being 
 misapplied, either by the persons themselves, or by 
 others, who might be base enough to make a prey 
 of them. Nor can I forbear mentioning it as another 
 most agreeable circumstance attending the charity 
 proposed, that it often shelters the person who re- 
 ceives the benefit of it, from the mortification of 
 coming to a parish allowance, and perhaps of being' 
 consigned over to a work-house : which is gene- 
 rally a terrible sort of infirmary indeed, where we 
 have reason to fear there is seldom sufficient care 
 taken to secure the cleanliness, the quiet, or the 
 morals, of those who arc so unhappy as to be 
 brought thither; though perhaps some of them 
 have lived creditably and comfortably in families 
 of their own, have long contributed for the support 
 of the poor around them, and have been at last 
 reduced by the afflictive hand of Providence, with- 
 out any visible crime of theirs, or any remarkable 
 imprudence. A state, which, when sickness is 
 added to it, appears one of the most desolate and 
 deplorable which can be imagined : so that it is no 
 wonder the very prospect and apprehension of it 
 should press, in a very painful manner, on an honest 
 and tender spirit, and greatly increase the foice of 
 any bodily disorder, which seems to threaten so bad 
 an event. 
 
 Keflect, Christians, on such considerations as 
 these ; and add to all, that you are the disciples of 
 that benevolent Jesus, who went about doing good, 
 and who particularly expressed the tenderness of 
 his generous compassion, by healing all manner of 
 sickness, and all manner of disease among the 
 people. This was the calamity of human nature, 
 which seems of all its temporal evils to have im- 
 pressed him most ; and I am sure, if we have any 
 thing of his spirit and temper, w ithout which we arc 
 none of his, we must necessarily wish well to a de- 
 sign of this kind, if it were only considered in 
 reference to those, who receive in their own persons 
 
 + It lias been spoken of {in the supplement to the account of Exeter 
 llosjiital, page 3 ) as a thing universally confessed, that more remedies 
 may be administered fur leu pounds ill this way, than tVir fifty in an- 
 other. And the truly reverend and excellent Dr. Alurcd Clarke, 
 whose memory will ever he dear to all good men who knew his cha- 
 racter, says, in the preface to his Sermon at the opening of Winchester 
 Hospital, pnge 5 "If half the money that is given should nalJy tie 
 perverted, (which I hope there is not the least reason to suspect,) there 
 would still be more good done by it than by any other jiossible way of 
 distributing to the necessities of the pofir ; so that every wise man 
 would think it worth his while to exert his endeavours in this way, 
 out of mere good husbandry to himself and the public." He after- 
 wards adds, page 9, 10. " It is well known, that several thousands are 
 relieved rti these hospitals at a less expense than can be afforded for so 
 many hundreds in any other way." 
 
9-20 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 immediate relief from it. Hut I am to add, that as 
 tlie scheme appears thus amiable in its most obvious 
 aspeet, so likewise, 
 
 2. It will appear more abundantly fruitful of 
 future {food, when attentively weighed in its remoter 
 consequenees. 
 
 The benefit extends much further than the per- 
 sons thus relieved. It evidently afTccts others of 
 their families, who have that time and labour to 
 employ in tlie business of their respeetive callings, 
 which must otherwise have been taken up in at- 
 tending the sick. It extends also to all those, to 
 whom the patients themselves may be useful when 
 recovered from their illness ; whether their near 
 relations and friends, who have any dependence 
 upon them ; or the public, who owe much more, 
 than we are generally aware, to the labours of the 
 poor, and upon that account are under great obli- 
 gations to them, which I fear are seldom consider- 
 ed. Not to say, that in many eases the very 
 existence of those yet to be born may, under God, 
 depend on such cures. 
 
 I shall not now insist on the advantage which 
 others may receive in their illness, by the improved 
 skill of physicians and surgeons, in consequence of 
 their attendance on such hospitals ; though it is 
 evidently a verj' possible thing, that the lives of 
 some very useful and valuable persons may be so 
 preserved. It is yet more obvious and certain, that 
 many other poor may be relieved, in the respectV/e 
 parishes to which they belong, by that money from 
 the parish stock, which must otherwise have been 
 employed upon tlie sick : or if, in consequence of 
 being discharged from this burthen, the parish rates 
 be lessened, (as perhaps in many places they sensi- 
 bly may be,) the subscribers of that parish arc then 
 paid in specie ; and after the honour and pleasure 
 of bestowing their bounty, a part of it immediately 
 flows back upon them again. And how much may 
 so flow back, and with what large accessions of 
 blessing, God only knows ; as he only can tell, what 
 casualties and diseases are warded olT, what pros- 
 perity and success in afl'airs may be allotted, as the 
 token of his favourable regard to this pious muni- 
 ficence. 
 
 Neither can it be improper for me to add upon 
 tills head, that what was more directly intended as 
 a benefit to the body, may prove a blessing to the 
 soul. For dissolute persons, by this means being 
 brought for a while under regular discipline, may 
 perhaps be broken and reclaimed: the good instruc- 
 tions they receive from ministers who attend them, 
 especiallyAvhile the rod of God is upon them, and 
 his sword may seem to liang over them ; the specta- 
 cles of mortality frequently before their eyes ; toge- 
 ther with the regularity and good order to which in 
 such places they will be accustomed, and their 
 being sheltered from many temptations, from which, 
 
 in some kinds of sickness, the patient is not neces- 
 sarily secure ; may all, under the influence of divine 
 grace, prove the means of sowing the seeds of true 
 religion in their hearts, and of infusing into their 
 minds that noblest of all cordials, an antidote 
 against the servile fears of the second death. 
 
 Nor does it appear to me a contemptible clTect of 
 this charity, that as it is necessarily concerted upon 
 a plan, in which all parties and denominations are 
 equally concerned, it will probably be a means of 
 promoting more candid and catholic sentiments, in 
 consequence of repeated opportunities of mutual 
 converse. This wears out that narrowness and 
 bigotry of spirit, which, where it prevails, renders 
 the Christian so unlike himself; and which is 
 generally the eflect of ignorance, and arises from 
 viewing our brethren through false mediums, which 
 represent, what may in itself be regular and fair, in 
 a distorted and disagreeable form. As interviews 
 with each other have a general tendency to rectify 
 such mistaken apprehensions, that tendency is pecu- 
 liarly evident, where this circumstance is added, 
 that all are associated in the same good design, and 
 have agreed on laying aside every party view in 
 pursuing it. This may promote something of that 
 unity of heart, under a variety of professions, which 
 good men on all sides wish ; and which, amidst 
 such an unavoidable diversity of sentiments, is the 
 only method of securing the honour of Christianity, 
 and the peace of the church. 
 
 I must by all means add, that whatever good 
 consequences this scheme may produce, which are 
 many more than I have enumerated above, our 
 engaging heartily in it may render them both ex- 
 tensive and lasting. It is probable, that neighbour- 
 ing counties may quickly learn to imitate our 
 example, wlien they see in fact that it is no imprac- 
 ticable design : an apprehension, which I suppose 
 has hitherto been the chief obstruction, where its 
 obvious benefits have been at all thought of. At 
 length it may spread from county to county, till 
 perliaps there will not a parish be found in Britain, 
 which shall not have an interest in some such 
 charitable foundation ; to which they may send 
 their sick in the most obstinate chronical cases, 
 v.ith some prospect of relief. Thus the remotest 
 regions of our land may have reason on this account 
 to call us blessed ; and I will add, the remotest 
 generations may also have reason to do it. Reflect 
 how many hundreds are at this day enjoying the 
 benefits of those wise and charitable foundations, 
 which our nation owes to the pious and beneficent 
 king Edward the Sixth, of truly sacred and imiiiorta! 
 memory. So would I hope, that in this place, when 
 our children, and our grand-children, are in their 
 graves, their remotest descendants, which arise in 
 their stead, (and God only knows what revolutions 
 may bring any of them to need it.) may have cause 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS, 
 
 927 
 
 to reflect on this year 1743, as the happy era of an 
 establishment, to wliich many around them may owe 
 their health, their comfort, their usefulness, and 
 possibly, under God, their Christian principles, and 
 their immortal hopes. Whatever streams may in 
 the mean time have flowed into it, (and God grant 
 they may be as large as shall be needed,) the 
 fountain will be traced up hither; and blessings will 
 be pronounced on the memory of those, who have 
 opened to these refreshing and healing waters so 
 free and so pleasant a course. 
 
 These considerations I lay before you, not to 
 extort any thing from you, as against your w ills, by 
 mere importunity ; but to convince you of what I 
 hope will be abundantly sufficient to engage your 
 concurrence in the design ; I mean, that it is emi- 
 nently calculated for extensive usefulness. I wish 
 you may heartily join in it, because I wish your 
 present happiness, and your future comfort. It is 
 observable, that when our blessed Redeemer sent 
 forth his apostles, as sheep among wolves, he gave 
 them this consolation in the midst of their poverty 
 and afllietion, that though as for silver and gold 
 they had none, they should be able to command 
 one of the noblest delights which riches could pur- 
 chase, in being the means of healing the sick. This 
 was, if I may be allowed the familiarity of the 
 expression, one of the great perquisites which he 
 permitted to these his most favourite servants; that 
 their hearts, rendered no doubt by his grace exqui- 
 sitely sensible, should have the godlike pleasure of 
 beholding from time to time the cheerful counte- 
 nances of those, who had lately been among the 
 most lamentable spectacles of human nature, and 
 under God owed their hcaltli, their limbs, and their 
 lives to them ; and of seeing the joy of families and 
 neighbourhoods, made happy by the recovery of 
 those who w ere dear to tliem. I wish you my bre- 
 thren, beloved in the Lord, a pleasure something 
 like this of the apostles ; and may I not add. of their 
 Master too, so far as a diversity of circumstances 
 will admit. And it is not only in compassion to 
 the afllicted, but in the overflowings of the sincerest 
 friendship to you, that I go on, (unnecessary as 
 it may almost seem,) in the conclusion of my dis- 
 course, 
 
 in. To touch on some circumstances peculiar to 
 the present season, which may especially recom- 
 mend this scheme to our immediate regard. 
 
 And here it is obvious to think, of the war in 
 which we are now engaged, — of the mercies of the 
 harvest which wc have lately reaped, — and of the 
 crisis to which the scheme is now brought, which 
 therefore must be immediately supported, or sunk 
 beyond all probable hope of Tuture recovery. 
 
 1. The consideration of the war, in which wc are 
 embarked, may properly be introduced as what 
 should have .some weight with us on thi.s occasion. 
 
 This should engage us as a nation, to conduct 
 ourselves in as virtuous and pious a manner as 
 possible ; as the most probable way of drawing 
 down the divine blessing upon our arms : now it 
 is very reasonable to suppose, that acts of public 
 charity, being in their own nature so peculiarly 
 pleasing to the gracious Father and Governor of the 
 universe, must have a great tendency to this. An 
 ancient .lewish writer expresses this in terms re- 
 markably adapted to the present purpose : " Help 
 the poor," says he, " for the commandment's sake; 
 and shut up alms, as it were, in thy store-house ;" 
 almost as if he had said. Raise hospitals for maga- 
 zines : " and it shall fight for thee against thine 
 enemies, better than a mighty shield, or a strong 
 spear ;" that is, than any kind of defensive or offen- 
 sive armour. Nay, an inspired prophet, when giv- 
 ing advice to him, who was then the greatest 
 monarch upon earth, Nebuchadnezzar king of 
 Babylon, expresses himself thus : O king, let my 
 counsel be acceptable unto thee : break oft' thy sins 
 by righteousness, and thine iniquities by showing 
 mercy to the poor; if it may be a lengthening. out 
 of thy tranquillity. 
 
 And as a view to our future interest, especially in 
 this nice conjuncture of affairs, may require such a 
 care ; so it will be a very proper expression of our 
 gratitude, for the assistance which God has lately 
 given us. The victory at Dettingen w'as a very re- 
 markable and seasonable appearance of Providence 
 in our favour, which we have been solemnly ac- 
 knowledging again and again in our public devo- 
 tions. Let us also acknowledge it in our actions. 
 Let us present some grateful tribute toward this 
 good work, as a thank-oflering to him, who giveth 
 salvation to kings, for having so graciously guarded 
 the life, the liberty, and safety of our sovereign, 
 King George. Had the breath of our nostrils, the 
 anointed of the Lord, been taken in the snares of 
 the enemy, and our glory in any sense been deliver- 
 ed info their liand, expenses of a very different 
 nature might have been occasioned, and have fallen 
 upon our broken spirits w ith a very afllietivc weight. 
 But I will not dwell on so melancholy a thought. 
 We arc presenting our d;iiiy prayers for his majes- 
 ty's security and prosperity, while, with a generosity 
 which I hope our nation will never forget, he is 
 hazarding his life for us in the high places of the 
 field: let our alms rise with our prayers, if we de- 
 sire they should come up as a grateful memorial 
 before God. 
 
 2. The mercies of the harvest may likewise pro- 
 jicrly be mentioned, as rendering the charity I have 
 been proposing peculiarly seasonable. 
 
 God has remarkably appeared for us, to crown 
 the year with his goodness, and to load the earth 
 with his bounty ; and he has added this, to complete 
 the favour that he has reserved to us, in as agreeable 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 n iiianiicr as we could ourselves have wished, the 
 appoiuted weeks of tlie liarvest. More seasoiuil)lc 
 weallier on such an occasion has not, so far as 1 can 
 learn, I)een known in the memory of man : seasonahle 
 in this respect, that as the hottles of heaven have been 
 so restrained that there have been no violent rains 
 in tlie lime of harvest, to sweep away or corrupt tlie 
 fruits of tiie eartli ; so, for several of the most busy 
 and important days, God has spread his eloud over 
 the heavens, so as to slielterthe reaper in tlie midst 
 of his toil from tiiose excessive heats, «liieii often 
 render autumn much more sickly than it would 
 otherwise be. Since, then, God hath made such 
 provision for satisfying our poor with bread, and 
 for prescrvino; our health too, he may seem thereby 
 to call upon you, by the gentlest voice, to give him, 
 in this pious work, a part of that substance with 
 whicii he hath repleiiisiicd you. And surely you 
 must feel yoursehes tlrawn, as by the cords of a 
 man, to lay out tliis way some of the stores which 
 he has with so liberal a hand poured in upon you, 
 and whicii in sparing your health he has both spared 
 and sweetened. Honour the Lord therefore with 
 your substance, and with the first-fruits of all your 
 increase, as a thankful acknowledgment of what he 
 hath already done ; and tlien you may by his pro- 
 mise be encouraged to hope, that in future instances 
 your barns shall be filleil with plenty, and your 
 presses burst out with new wine. Know, my friends, 
 that God hath given you your corn, and your wine, 
 and your oil, and hath multiplied your wool and 
 your (lax. Lay by, therefore, for charitable uses, 
 as God hath prospered you, and as you hope and 
 desire he should prosper you in years to come : 
 otherwise you may chance to have calculated your 
 interests very wrong, and may find to your cost, 
 that as there is that scattereth, and yet greatly in- 
 creaseth, so there is that withholdeth more than is 
 meet, but it tendeth only to poverty. Once more, 
 
 3. Let me plead from the particular crisis, to 
 which this affair is now brought, which is such, that 
 it must be determined by what is immediately, or 
 at least quickly, done. 
 
 The scheme of a County Hospital among us was 
 thought of, and hinted at, long ago ; but it was then 
 looked upon as a thing to be wished, rather tiian 
 attempted and hoped. The attempt is now coura- 
 geously and vigorously made, and no inconsiderable 
 sum has already been subscribed for that purpose : 
 and what is much more important than any sub- 
 scription yet made, many of the nobility and gentry 
 of the county, who have not yet ascertained parti- 
 culars, have declared their approbation of the 
 general design, and their resolution to favour it. 
 It is greatly for their honour to have it, and we may 
 have reason to bless God who liath put it into their 
 Iicarts ; but it would be most ungenerous and un- 
 reasonable, to leave the whole burthen upon them. 
 
 It is tlie general concurrence of the inhabitants of 
 tills county, w iiieh must give the greatest strength, 
 stability, and extent to the scheme. Let me there- 
 fore entreat your cheerful and resolute concurrence. 
 Suffer not this amiable infant, (if I may be allowed 
 tlie expression,) to be deserted, and die, for want 
 of due sujjport in its tendcrcst state; nor let it be 
 said, in llczekiah's words, tiiat when brought to the 
 birth, there was not strength and assistance to bring 
 it forth. Lend your charitat)le aid now, if you ever 
 purpose to do it at all ; for if it drop now, we can- 
 not expect ever to see it revived : since the defeat 
 of this attempt, so far advanced, and so warmly 
 solicited, will be looked upon as a demonstration 
 to many, that the thing cannot be effected; whereas 
 it is most evident, that if it miscarry, it must not be 
 charged on Providence, but on ourselves. Nothing 
 surely can prevent its success, humanly speaking, 
 but such dispositions, as I am unwilling on tiiis 
 oc^casion so much as to name, in those wlio should 
 be leaders in every good work. 
 
 If these shameful causes should prevail to frus- 
 trate all, we love our neighbours, our brethren, and 
 the public too well, not to lament it. But let us at 
 least have so much regard to the credit of our 
 characters, and tlie peace of our consciences, as to 
 show, that it fails not for want of our concurrence. 
 I know, it is but very little, in comparison, that we 
 can do. We are by no means distinguished for our 
 wealth, and we have of course our burthens and 
 expenses peculiar to us, as a society of Dissenters. 
 Nevertheless, let us judge equitably, as to what we 
 are able to contribute, and let us do it cheerfully : 
 rejoicing in this, that we act in the presence of a 
 most gracious and merciful Father, w ho, where there 
 is a willing mind, accepts a man according to w hat he 
 hath, and not according to what he hath not. 
 
 Let not therefore any of the poorer part of man- 
 kind, who often have as generous and as compas- 
 sionate hearts as any which are to be found on 
 earth, be discouraged, because they have not their 
 guineas, or even their crowns, to give on this noble 
 occasion. Were great numbers to join their smaller 
 cojitributions through such a county as this, it' 
 would swell to a very considerable sum. And, 
 which is the most agreeable thought of all, each 
 would have his part in the honour and pleasure of 
 doing something towards helping forward so worthy 
 a design. And I am sure, it is the part of humanity 
 to wish, that those who move in a lower sphere, 
 may share with the rich and great in such pleasures 
 as these ; though they cannot in many others, much 
 more expensive, yet not ecjually ex(]uisite and re- 
 fined. The joys of liberality, and the delights of 
 benevolence, were intended by the great Author of 
 our nature, like the light of the sun, to be the por- 
 tion of the whole species, and to extend themselves 
 to the lowest of mankind. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 929 
 
 I Lope therefore, that all who can without great 
 inconvenience to themselves and their families 
 afford it, will do something to promote this generous 
 scheme. But I would remind those of you, in par- 
 ticular, who are in more distinguished circum- 
 stances of life, that you are in tlie sight of God and 
 man obliged to distinguish yourselves in the various 
 exercises of liberality. I have a great authority to 
 warrant me to do it, and I think it one of the truest 
 oflSces of friendship which a minister can perform 
 to such, to charge them that are rich in this world, 
 that they trust not in uncertain riches, but in the 
 living God ; and that, as they desire any well- 
 grounded trust in him, they practically acknowledge 
 him as the great Lord of all, by being rich in good 
 works, ready to distribute, willing to communicate, 
 so laying up in store for themselves a good founda- 
 tion against the time to come, that they may lay 
 hold on eternal life. And if there are any of you 
 whose riches God hath lately increased, either by 
 causing your grounds to bring forth plentifully, or 
 by giving a favourable turn to the commodities in 
 which j ou deal, or by any other methods of sudden 
 prosperity ; as I may say to you, I come in a good 
 day, so I should think, you had reason to fear that 
 very prosperity were a curse, and might be the 
 means of destruction to you, if you did not feel 
 your hearts as it were melted by it, and disposed 
 to flow forth in the streams of large and cheerful 
 beneficence. I would rather hope, that God has 
 been providing an easy and abundant accession for 
 this public charity, by the accession he has been 
 making to your capacity of supporting it. 
 
 I would also particularly beseech tliose of you 
 who are of tender constitutions, and know, by your 
 own frequent experience, the calamity of illness, to 
 pity the sorrows you have so often felt, and to show 
 a readiness to relieve the poor who are labouring 
 under them, as you desire that the eye of mercy 
 may be directed toward you, and that the arm of 
 
 God may be extended for your support, if such 
 distresses should return upon you. And I hope, 
 any whom God may lately have raised up to life 
 and health, when they seemed in the extremest 
 danger of being deprived of the residue of their 
 years, will hear how loudly he calls upon them, to 
 present a thank-offering, so suitable to the nature 
 of that favour which they have received. 
 
 To conclude all, I would beseech every one of 
 you who hear me this day, both high and low, rich 
 and poor together, that they aid this good work by 
 their prayers : a contribution, by which some of the 
 poorest may be eminently helpful ; for such are 
 often peculiarly rich in faith, and high in the favour 
 of the King of heaven. 
 
 And may He, the great patron of the afflicted, 
 and of those that pity tliem, say Amen to our united 
 petitions ! May he graciously guide the minds of 
 those who arc concerting the scheme, and ripening 
 it for fuller execution ! May he open the hearts of 
 those who shall be applied to, that they may give 
 freely and cheerfully, in full proportion to what he, 
 the only perfect judge, certainly knows to be their 
 respective abilities ! And may he abundantly reward 
 all, who from worthy principles shall assist in so 
 excellent a work, with health in their persons, pros- 
 perity in their families, peace in their minds, and 
 at length, through the merits and grace of the great 
 Redeemer, witli an eternal abode in that world, 
 where the great physician of souls having fully ac- 
 complished his healing purposes, the inhabitant 
 shall not say, I am sick ! Nevertheless, the grace of 
 cliarity shall live and reign there ; though such 
 methods of expressing it as I have now been recom- 
 mending be happily superseded : nor is it at all im- 
 probable, that some, whom we have for a few days 
 lodged in our house of mercy here, may there, as 
 our Lord himself expresses it, receive us into ever- 
 lasting habitations. Amen. 
 
oao 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON XVI. 
 
 THE NECESSITY OF A GENERAL REFORMATION, TO OBTAIN 
 
 SUCCESS IN WAR* 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Honourable Colonel James Gardiner. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I AM far from lliinkin^ that I pay any part of the debt whicli I owe to your most engaging friend.sl)ip, 
 by presenting you with a plain J)iscourse ; on the contrary, I am sensible, that by your permitting me to 
 inscribe it to you, that debt is increased : but obligations to so much goodness as I have experienced in 
 you, sit so easily and pleasantly upon me, that no objection arises from that (|uarter. And it has this 
 claim to your patronage, that many of the thoughts are as much yours as mine ; having been talked over 
 between us with a great deal of freedom. I know. Sir, they are such as make a very deep impression 
 on your heart, and such as you strenuously labour to promote among those who have the happiness of 
 being under your command ; and I am confident you will think it no reproach to you to avow them in 
 the most public manner, as your whole life always speaks your steady regard to those principles on which 
 they are built. 
 
 I heartily congratulate you. Sir, and I congratulate the public, on the visible effects of your resolute 
 and courageous zeal for religion, in the remarkable sobriety and regularity of those to whom your in- 
 fluence most directly extends ; and I doubt not, but it has extended much further than the company, or 
 even the regiment, to which you stand peculiarly related. Were our officers and our soldiers in general 
 such, I am persuaded it would soon appear, how much righteousness exalteth a nation ; and that He who 
 is wisdom to the pious counsellor, would also be strength to them that turn the battle from our gates to 
 those of the enemy; so that our commanders, like the hero who has furnished me with my motto, might 
 well give it for their word, God our Ally and our General. 
 
 To all the prayers which I have been offering for my country in the progress of that Discourse of 
 which I now beg your acceptance, permit me to add this one more. That to whatever services you may 
 be called in its defence, that God, whom you serve, in all may continually watch over you for good, and 
 prolong to many future most honourable and important years, a life so faithfully devoted to him. My 
 heart reveres you too much, to permit me to tell the world, so immediately in your presence, the high 
 sentiments it entertains of you ; and I am, (with an affection, which is, perhaps, too ready to forget the 
 formalities of a public address, in the tenderness of private friendship,) 
 
 My dear Colonel, 
 
 Your most faithful and obliged, 
 
 and most obedient bumble servant, 
 
 Northampton, Febntnrij 25, 1739-40. P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Deut. xxiii. 9. 
 
 When the host yoeth forth against thine enemies, then 
 heep thee from every wicked thing. 
 
 The acknowledgment of that God, in whose hand 
 our breath is, and whose are all our ways, is a duty 
 in its obligation so evidently reasonable, in its 
 exercise so delightful, and in its natural conse- 
 
 * Prt'achcd at Northampton, January P, 1739-40, the ilay appointed 
 liy his mnjenty for pnblii- humiliation. 
 
 quences so variously advantageous, that one would 
 hope it should be the prevailing temper among 
 men ; a temper which should run through the most 
 agreeable and secure scenes of life, since that 
 agreeablencss and security is the effect of divine 
 care and goodness. Nevertheless we too generally 
 see, that in this respect men are lulled asleep by 
 those gentle gales of prosperity, which waft them 
 on towards a haven they desire ; but when cross 
 and contrary winds arise, and beat upon them, the 
 noise, the motion, the danger of the tempest often 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 931 
 
 awakens them, and engages them, like the mariners 
 in the ship with Jonah, to call every one upon his 
 God. I w ould hope, indeed, that I am now address- 
 ing to many, who have made prayer the business and 
 the joy of their prosperous days; and such may 
 with peculiar pleasure and confidence have recourse 
 to it in circumstances of extremity, if God should 
 be pleased to lead us in such circumstances. In 
 the mean time, I doubt not but it is with great 
 readiness that such numbers of you have obeyed 
 the w ise and pious call of our sovereign, to assem- 
 ble this day, " That we may humble ourselves 
 before Almighty God, in order to obtain pardon 
 of our sins ; and may in most devout and solemn 
 manner send up our prayers and supplications to 
 the Divine Majesty, for averting those heavy judg- 
 ments which our manifold sins and provocations 
 have most justly deserved, imploring his blessing 
 and assistance on our arras, and for restoring and 
 perpetuating peace, safety, and prosperity to us." 
 
 Christian princes have seldom omitted on such 
 occasions as these, to give such calls to their sub- 
 jects ; and they have instructive precedents for it 
 in Scripture. They might learn it from the con- 
 duct of pious Jehoshaphat, who, when numerous 
 nations were conspiring against him, set himself to 
 seek the Lord, and proclaimed a fast tliroughoiit 
 all Judah, that they might gather themselves toge- 
 ther, to ask help from him. Yea, the hint might be 
 taken even from the behaviour of the king of Ni- 
 neveh, who, when the prophet had so solemnly 
 declared in the name of God, that Lis country 
 should be destroyed, arose from his throne, and 
 laid aside his robe, and covered himself with sack- 
 cloth, and sat in ashes, at the same time causing a 
 most rigorous fast to be proclaimed througli Nine- 
 veh, by his own decree, and that of his nobles ; an 
 abstinence in which, the more forcibly to impress 
 the minds of men, the beasts were also to share, and 
 neither to feed nor drink water; and those of them 
 which had appeared in that luxurious city in the 
 most sumptuous trappings and decorations, were in 
 the sad procession, like their masters, to be covered 
 with sackcloth. With such low prostration was 
 the whole nation, as one man, to cry mightily unto 
 God, to avert his displeasure: but it is worthy of 
 our remark, that the light of nature and reason 
 taught that prince also to add, in his royal mandate 
 for a general humiliation. Let them turn every one 
 from his evil way, and from the violence that is in 
 their hands. 
 
 Now as obedience to the government, and love to 
 the public, must engage every faithful minister to 
 labour to address his people this day, on such a 
 subject, and in such a manner, as he judges most 
 suitable to its great design ; I thought it my duty 
 to fix my own meditations and yours, on the abso- 
 lute necessity of national and personal reformation, 
 3 o 2 
 
 in order to a well-grounded expectation of success 
 in war. This the king of Nineveh inculcated, as 
 you have heard ; and Moses also had long before 
 solemnly urged it, in the words of my text ; When 
 the host goeth forth against thine enemies, then 
 keep thee from every wicked thing. And surely 
 every one's conscience will tell him, how fit it is, 
 that, after we have been pouring out our confes- 
 sions and our supplications before God, we should 
 attentively reflect upon such a charge as this, lest 
 future iniquities, aggravated even by the humilia- 
 tion of this day, should prove our speedy and our 
 final destruction. 
 
 You see the words contain a very plain and in- 
 telligible admonition to Israel, of the peculiar care 
 with which they should guard against any unre- 
 formed wickedness, when (like Great Britain at this 
 day) they were engaging in war : and they are a 
 charge, not only to the soldiery, in such circum- 
 stances as these, to abstain from rapine, cruelty, 
 and debauchery, as well as from any superstitious 
 regard to those idols, which they might meet with 
 in the camps and cities of their enemies ; but also 
 to the people in general, to be careful that they did 
 not, by any impieties or immoralities at home, 
 bring down the curse of God upon their arms, and 
 blast the success even of the most righteous cause. 
 
 Before I proceed to a more particular consider- 
 ation of the words, I will readily allow, they might 
 have some peculiar weight, when considered as ad- 
 dressed to the Israelites ; for they had God in a 
 very extraordinary maJiner present among tliem ; as 
 the ark, often called the footstool of liis throne, was 
 now in the midst of their camp; and, when it was 
 not, there were other holy instruments committed 
 to the cliarge of the anointed of the field, by which 
 God was to be consulted, and liis presence acknow'^ 
 ledgcd. Upon this account we find, in the follow- 
 ing words, they are urged to keep themselves, not 
 only from moral, but also from ceremonial, and 
 even natural, pollution ; tiiat the order, decency, 
 and cleanliness of their camp might be an habitual 
 expression of their reverence for that God, who 
 condescended to appear among them as their gene- 
 ral, and their king : For the Lord thy God walketh 
 in the midst of thy camp ; — therefore shall it be 
 holy, that he sec no unclean thing in thee, and turn 
 away from thee. 
 
 It may also he proper to recollect upon this occa- 
 sion, that the Israelites were under something of a 
 peculiarly equal providence ; and consequently 
 might expect victory or defeat, as they were obe- 
 dient or disobedient to the divine command, with 
 a certainty greater than is common to other nations. 
 For though indeed it is probable, that, in a series 
 of years, the prosperity or calamity of a nation will 
 be proportionable to its general virtues or vices ; 
 yet the peculiar covenant which God had made 
 
932 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 \\\lh Israel, not only sconis to have eng;asc(l him lo 
 ;i more immediate retribution, but likewise extend- 
 ed itself to all those peculiar institutions, which 
 they as a separate nation were under. Tiicrefore 
 does he particularly tell them, that if they did not 
 observe to do all his commandments and statutes, 
 he would cause them to be smitten before their 
 enemies ; they should p;o out against them one way, 
 and llee seven ways before them ; thereby strongly 
 iiitimatinsi. (and indeed witli the utmost reason,) 
 that the presumptuous violation of any ceremonial 
 or positive precept would be attended with fatal 
 consequences; of which, you well know, the defeat 
 brounlit upon the whole army of Israel for the sin 
 of Achan, in secretin'? the accursed thing, was an 
 early and very memorable instance ; as well as the 
 severity, with wliich that crime was punished, on 
 the offender and his family. And it was indeed a 
 merciful method which God took, to preserve Israel 
 in an external and visible adherence to the religion 
 and the institutions he had founded among them, 
 thus immediately to animadvert upon them by his 
 chastising providence, wlienever tliey deviated from 
 it, though in circumstances otherwise indilferent ; 
 and it may be in those, in which human policy- 
 would have dictated a very different conduct, had 
 not a divine command interposed : wliich, by the 
 way, is particularly apparent in the effect of mul- 
 tiplying chariots and horses, which were always a 
 curse, instead of a defence, to Israel, how useful so 
 ever they might have been to other nations ; because 
 God had required them to employ infantry alone, 
 as that by which (the more immediately to show his 
 interposition) he would save them, when they de- 
 pended upon him. 
 
 I pretend not therefore to maintain from these 
 words, that we are concerned in them, just in the 
 very same manner and degree that the Israelites 
 were ; yet I doubt not but I shall be able, 
 
 I. To prove, that we are highly concerned in this 
 caution wliich is given to tlicm. And then, 
 
 II. I shall endeavour to illustrate it, by the men- 
 tion of some particular evils, against which, in our 
 present circumstances, we are peculiarly obliged to 
 guard. After which, 
 
 III. I shall conclude with some inferences from 
 hence, further suited to the occasion of this day's 
 most solemn assembly. 
 
 I. I am to prove, that we are all much concerned 
 in the caution that is here given ; and that as ever 
 we, or any other nation, would reasonably expect 
 success against our enemies, it is necessary that, 
 when we go forth against them, we should keep our- 
 selves from every wicked thing. 
 
 You will remember, I pretend not to assert that 
 the event of every battle, or of every war, will 
 always bear an exact proportion, either to the jus- 
 tice of the cause, or to the virtue and piety of those 
 
 that are engaged in it. Indeed tiie event of some 
 wars, especially towards the beginning of the Re- 
 formation, wherein the sufferers were persons of the 
 most excellent, and the victors of the most hateftil, 
 characters, is too sad an evidence to the contrary.* 
 I am very ready to allow, that in some instances, to 
 form the hearts of his people to ntore eminent 
 attainments in goodness by scenes of distress, or for 
 other reasons lo us unknown, (Jod may determine 
 events otherwise: yet I think I may very safely 
 venture to aflirm, that wc can never form any just 
 expectation of continued success and prosperity in 
 our military affairs, unless there be a zealous con- 
 cern about a reformation in our manners ; and un- 
 less national piety and virtue be our earnest and 
 governing care. And this may sufficiently appear, if 
 we consider, on the one hand, that tlie divine favour 
 can only reasonably be expected by those, who are 
 careful to keep themselves from evil ; and on the 
 other, that prosperity in military affairs does evi- 
 dently depend on the divine favour. Both these 
 considerations are so plain, that they might almost 
 be admitted as self-evident ; though in order to im- 
 press them more deeply upon our minds, I shall 
 spend a few words upon each. 
 
 1. The divine favour can only reasonably be ex- 
 pected by those, who are solicitous to keep them- 
 selves from moral evil. 
 
 I might introduce what I have further to say on 
 this head, by observing, that the moral perfections 
 of God seem evidently deduciblo from his natural ; 
 for to suppose otherwise concerning him, would be 
 indeed to suppose him worse than even the very 
 vilest of men, who, if they act unrighteously where 
 they know what is reasonable and fit, do it as 
 tempted by some self-interest; a temptation, to 
 which an almighty being cannot possibly be ob- 
 noxious. Now the consequence from his being 
 perfectly holy and righteous himself, to his loving 
 the like character, and hating the contrary, in his 
 reasonable creatures, is so plain, that the apostle 
 appeals to every one's conscience to bear witness to 
 it: What fellowship, says he, hath righteousness 
 with unrighteousness ? or what communion hath 
 light with darkness ? It must then be granted, that 
 as the righteouj Lord loveth righteousness, and his 
 countenance beholds the upright; so his face must 
 be set against them that do evil, that sooner or later 
 he may cut off the remembrance of them from the 
 earth. Wicked men have reason therefore to be 
 
 * I hardiy know a more memorable instance of tliis, than in the 
 surcpss of that pei fiilioiis. and ungrateful war, wliich the Emperor 
 Charles V. undertook against those two iiions and worthy princes, 
 John Frederick, Elector nf Saxony, and Philip, Landgrave of Hesse 
 Casscl ; in which the Emperor was supported ijy a considerable num- 
 ber of Spanish and Italian forces who maiked their way through 
 Germany with unheard-of cruelties; and particularly {as Ihe Land. 
 Krave himself asserts in his manifesto) cut off the hands and feet of little 
 children to testify their hatred against the Protestant Relis:ion, which 
 their parents professed. Pueris ipsis et infantibus resecare mami« 
 atfjue pedes, odio nimirum doctrinap. Sleid, de Stat. Rclig. lib. 
 xviii. p. 71. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 93.3 
 
 afraid of his judgments: and they have especial 
 reason to fear them, who, like the inhabitants of 
 Great Britain, have been favoured with the clearest 
 knowledge of his will, have received the most 
 eminent deliverances from him, and have for a long 
 series of years been preserved in peace and pros- 
 perity ; while, at the same time that they have 
 called themselves his people, they have acted in a 
 visible contrariety to their profession, and thereby 
 brought proportionable dishonour upon his name. 
 This is a case greatly to be feared in every condi- 
 tion, and it is especially worthy of our considera- 
 tion in our present circumstances ; because, 
 
 2. It is most evident, that the success of military 
 affairs does entirely depend upon the divine protec- 
 tion and favour. 
 
 This is a well known maxim of the word of God ; 
 and considering the natural pride of our hearts, it 
 was fit that it should be deeply inculcated. It is 
 therefore repeated again and again ; and it is ob- 
 servable, that it comes most frequently from the 
 pjn of David, who was himself so courageous a 
 warrior, and so illustrious a conqueror. No king, 
 says he, is saved by the multitude of a host ; a 
 mighty man is not delivered by much strength ; a 
 horse is a vain thing for safety ; neither shall he 
 deliver any by his great strength : behold, tlie eye 
 of the Lord is upon them that fear him, to ('.eliver 
 their soul from death. And we shall have occasion 
 hereafter to mention many other passages equiva- 
 lent to these. 
 
 It would indeed be thus, if the success of battle 
 was always proportionable to the number, strength, 
 and skill of those respectively concerned in it ; for 
 all the strength and all the skill of creatures is de- 
 rived from God, and is supported by him. But we 
 find in experience, as well as in Scripture, that 
 events often arise, in which it evidently appears, 
 that the battle is not to the strong, nor the race to 
 the swift ; and circumstances happen, in which, 
 with some allowance for the figurative expression, 
 one chases a thousand, and two put ten thousand 
 to flight. 
 
 Much of the success of military actions depends 
 upon the weather, which almost the whole world 
 acknowledges to be apparently at the divine dis- 
 posal, and to be quite beyond any human alteration 
 or control. Wind and rain, cold and heat, have 
 been the destruction of thousands, who imagined 
 themselves most secure of victory and success, even 
 in land engagements. Much likewise depends upon 
 a variety of little accidents ; and especially, with 
 respect to the discernment of those (hat command, 
 and the alacrity of those who engage. Now God at 
 pleasure takes away the spirit of princes, and de- 
 jects the men of might, so that they are not able to 
 find their hands. He sometimes diffuses among 
 mighty armies a spirit of discord, so that confede- 
 
 rate forces desert or destroy one another ; or per- 
 haps sends a sudden panic upon them, and then, be 
 their forces ever so numerous, the entrance of fear 
 is the beginning of a defeat, in which numbers, in- 
 stead of helping, only crowd, and bear down, and 
 trample on each other. It is evident to all ac- 
 quainted with history, that, by such incidents as 
 these, small numbers have been rendered victorious, 
 even almost beyond their expectation, and have 
 stood astonished at their own success. 
 
 This is a remark peculiarly applicable to naval 
 preparations. Their prosperity most evidently de- 
 pends on the most uncertain elements, the winds 
 and the waves ; and he that gathers the winds in 
 his fist, can with infinite ease pen up the most gal- 
 lant fleets in their harbours, and waft over to de- 
 fenceless ports, in the very neighbourhood of them, 
 invading enemies in transports by no means a match 
 for the fine navies, on which the sovereign of the 
 sea has laid his embargo. Yen, at his command the 
 ships of Tarshish shall be dashed in pieces with an 
 east wind, and their bulk and strength only serve 
 to give each other the more violent shocks, and to 
 spread the wider ruin. This is a thought especially 
 worthy our attention, who have in so many in- 
 stances, within the memory of man, owed the pre- 
 servation of our domestic peace, and probably, it 
 may be added, even that of our religion and liberty, 
 to the interposition of the wind in our favour. A 
 circumstance which our enemies themselves have 
 recorded with surprise, though we are, alas, too in- 
 sensible of it.* 
 
 We see then how incontestably it appears, that 
 the prosperity of our arms entirely depends upon 
 the divine favour: and indeed the truth of this is 
 so evident, that dissolute as the generality of man- 
 kind are, there are few of them entirely unim- 
 pressed with it. It is certain, that many of those 
 vices, which tend to provoke God, do at the same 
 time render men's circumstances desperate, their 
 spirits mean, and their constitutions weak. IJiot 
 and debauchery unbrace the nerves ; and in pro- 
 portion to the degree in v\hich they are indulged, 
 render the glutton, the drunkard, and the whore- 
 monger, incapable of sustaining those hardshij)s, 
 which would be comparatively easy to those, who 
 had been long trained up under the discipline of 
 abstinence, .-sobriety, and industry. But, besides 
 all this, guilt of every kind naturally makes men 
 cowards; whereas conscious integiity and upright- 
 
 * Not only tlie story of the Spanisli invasion, and that of llio aj rival 
 of tlie Prince of Orange, our great deliverer, in U!88, are inemorable 
 instances of this; but also the invasions afterwards atteniptetl, either 
 hy King James the Second, or the Pretender and his agents; of wliicli 
 1 ( annot re<'ollect any one that has not been defeated, chietly by wnids, 
 and thfise such as we ourselves could have wished. And as I think that 
 Father Orleans, in his History of the Knglisli Revolutions, nie];tions 
 Mtuie of the former instances, with pecnhar re«iard to this circnnislance ; 
 
 I know the aulhor of the late Duke of Derwick's Life remarks it as Ic 
 Sfjuic of the latter, in some passages which struck me so agreeably in 
 reading, that I am sorry I have not now an opportunity, eilher of uir 
 sertiiig or referring to llicin. 
 
031 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 ness is a kind uf inipicsimbic aiiuoiii, which se- 
 cures the heart froni I'ear, even in liic midst of 
 danger. This Solomon well knew, and therefore 
 savs. The wicked flee when no man pursues ; but 
 the rifjhteous arc bold as a lion. And indeed that 
 man, who apprehends himself under the guardian- 
 ship and defence of Divine Providence, may well 
 be courageous ; and \\ hen he can say, The Lord is 
 my light and n>y salvation, he may justly add, 
 M honi shall I fear ? The Lord is the strength of 
 niy life, of whom shall I be afraid? Though a host 
 should encamp against rac, my heart shall not fear; 
 though war should rise against me, in this will I be 
 confident: for he has all the reason in the ^\orld to 
 be assurcil, that God will cither shield him from 
 danger, which in the most perilous action he can 
 easily do ; or if he sulfcr him to fall by it, will open 
 him a passage to eternal glory, by the wounds he 
 ma)' receive in a righteous cause. Whereas the 
 man who is condemned by his own heart, cannot 
 easily flatter himself so far, as inwardly to imagine, 
 that he is not eondennied by that God, who is 
 greater than his heart, and knoweth all things. 
 Nor can he always forget how entirely he is in the 
 hand of that tremendous Being, whom his disobe- 
 dience has made his enemy : and it is no wonder if 
 death appear terrible, when he has so much reason 
 to fear that hell will follow it ; for though it is an 
 easy thing to jest with its distant terrors, it is not 
 so easy deliberately to brave them when they seem 
 to approach. You may therefore observe, that, in 
 order to lay conscience asleep, politic men have 
 often contrived to blow up a wicked soldiery with 
 an apprehension, that what they might want in the 
 regularity and virtue of their behaviour, they had 
 in the goodness of their cause, or in the orthodoxy 
 of their belief ; that a persuasion of the piety of 
 their cause, might at least be a balance to the im- 
 piety and licentiousness of their characters : yea, 
 they have, it may be, consecrated their cruelties as 
 an atonement for their debauchery. What artifices 
 have been used to this puri)ose, and by whom, it is 
 by no means my present business to inquiie ; but 
 I look upon it as a sort of testimony, borne often by 
 the worst of men to the importance of some religious 
 hopes in military affairs ; as it does, on the other 
 side, appear from what was before said, that these 
 hopes can only be reasonably entertained by those, 
 who are disposed to a thorough reformation of their 
 lives, or, in the language of the text, to keep them- 
 selves from every wicked thing, when their host 
 goes forth against the enemy. 
 
 But in order to render these general reflections 
 more useful, by bringing them to a point, permit 
 me, in the second place, 
 
 IL To hint at some of those evils, which we 
 should, in our present circumstances, be particu- 
 larly careful to guard against. 
 
 And here 1 must in the very first place, mention 
 that in which all the other particulars, which might 
 occur on this occasion, arc in eflect contained, as 
 in their fatal cause ; and observe, 
 
 1. That " a profane contempt of that divine 
 revelation, with which God has favoured us," is 
 one great evil, that should be carefully avoided. 
 
 As I cannot, so I iiope I need not, be large in 
 showing, how admirably the whole tenor of the 
 word of God, an<l especially the gospel of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, which we all profess to believe, is 
 calculated to promote a general reformation in man- 
 kind ; and how certainly it will promote it, in pro- 
 portion to the degree in which it is cordially received. 
 It itidccd most powerfully tends not only to regu- 
 late the life, but to awaken and impress the con- 
 science ; not only to control those evil actions, 
 which, though detrimental in some measure to 
 society, may not be cognizable by human laws, but 
 also to suppress, and even eradicate, those irregular 
 affections and passions, from which such actions 
 proceed. We can therefore wish nothing better to 
 our country, than that this gospel, this glorious gos- 
 pel of the blessed God, may be universally con- 
 sidered, embraced, and obeyed ; and I am per- 
 suaded, nothing would have a happier aspect upon 
 our public affairs, than that we should all labour 
 to our utmost to promote its establishment, and its 
 influence over the minds of men. 
 
 We have the more reason to be concerned about 
 it, as perhaps there is no Christian nation under 
 heaven, in which bolder and more mischievous 
 assaults have been made upon revealed religion, 
 than among us : and though it has so friendly an 
 aspect on the comfort of individuals, and the hap- 
 piness of society, the licentiousness of some, and the 
 pride of others, has engaged them to unite against 
 it, as against a common enemy, and to treat it with 
 a contempt, equal to that veneration it might justly 
 have demanded. This is indeed the natural conse- 
 quence of that liberty which we enjoy, not only of 
 tiiinking for ourselves, which none can prevent, but 
 of freely professing our own sentiments ; a liberty 
 so honourable to human nature and to truth, and 
 on many accounts (as I have elsewhere shown*) 
 so profitable, that I think no wise man could wish 
 it were restrained. Yet the more freely we assert 
 it, the more careful should we be by all rational 
 and Christian methods to prevent its abuse, and to 
 guard against those bad consequences, which, good 
 as the thing itself is, are almost inseparable 
 from it. 
 
 Let all who believe the gospel, take heed how 
 they trifle with it ; and let all who have any scru- 
 ples concerning it, make their inquiries into its 
 evidences with all possible diligence, humility, and 
 impartiality ; which if they do, they will undoubt- 
 * Sermon on Persecution. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 935 
 
 edly end in a more established belief. And let us 
 all, according to our abilities, exert ourselves for 
 its defence ; not only by pleading its cause by arg u- 
 ments, so far as we have an opportunity in our 
 respective places to do it; but also by bearing our 
 testimony to its importance, as well as its truth ; 
 and above all, by labouring to the utmost to make 
 our lives a continued and prevailing apology for it, 
 which they will be, if they are steadily governed by 
 its holy dictates. 
 
 To excite us to the greater care on this head, let 
 it be remembered, that nothing is more highly dis- 
 pleasing to God, than the contempt of that revela- 
 tion which he has sent. They that despised Moses's 
 law, found it so to their cost ; for when they mocked 
 the messengers of God, and despised his words, and 
 misused his prophets, the wrath of the Lord rose 
 against his people, till there was no remedy ; and 
 he brought an invading enemy upon them, who slew 
 their young men with the sword, in the house of 
 their sanctuary, and had no compassion upon young 
 man, maiden, old man, or him that stooped for age : 
 and we cannot expect, that the effects of his dis- 
 pleasure will be less terrible, if we will not rever- 
 ence his Son. It is owing to his wonderful patience, 
 that we have not long ago been made a monument 
 of his wrath, and punished for these iniquities, as 
 remarkably as we have been known by him beyond 
 most of the other nations of the earth. Our guilt 
 on this head makes it more necessary to add, 
 
 2. " The luxurious abuse of the favours of divine 
 Providence, wliich have in so long a peace been 
 flowing in upon us," is another evil to be guarded 
 against, if we would reasonably expect success in war. 
 
 I am now speaking to many who know, more 
 particularly than I myself do, how plentifully our 
 land has yielded her increase for many succeeiiing 
 years ; insomuch that we have been able to relieve 
 the necessities of neighbour nations, out of our own 
 redundant stores: a providence," which has not 
 only prevented corn from growing a drug at home, 
 but has been an occasion of bringing into the nation 
 no contemptible return of riches for a considerable 
 time. Besides this, whatever particular difficulties 
 may have attended some traders, our commerce in 
 general has long been in a flourishing condition. 
 Very considerable estates have been raised ; and it 
 is neither to be wondered at, nor blamed, that those 
 who have found their wealth increasing, have 
 thought proper to live in a more liberal, and ele- 
 gant, and some of them in a more magniliccnt man- 
 ner, than before. But I fear, that, in many of those 
 who have thus been distinguished by the blessings 
 of Divine Providence, this indulgence has grown up 
 into luxury and extravagance, and to neglect of 
 honest and industrious employment, whereby God 
 might have been honoured, and the public interest 
 promoted ; cares and labours, from which the weal- 
 
 thiest and the noblest of mankind are by no means 
 to think themselves excused; nay, by which they 
 are rather to be proportionably distinguished. 
 
 I fear also, that the taste for pleasure and gran- 
 deur, which has prevailed so much in persons of 
 plentiful circumstances, has been too eagerly and 
 vainly imitated, by those whose estates and families 
 would have required another kind of conduct. This, 
 in great measure, may have been the cause of the 
 many bankruptcies, whereby such who have dealt 
 largely, and have affected to deal much more 
 largely than they ought, have frequently drawn 
 down many others, and those, perhaps, more indus- 
 trious and deserving families, into ruin with them- 
 selves. While others, in various employments, 
 have been obliged to have recourse to mean arti- 
 fices, to shore up a sinking credit for a while, till 
 those props have at last only made the ruin the 
 greater, and the more unpitied ; and all this to the 
 unspeakable reproach of religion, which has some- 
 times been vainly pretended to by those, whose 
 conduct has been most contrar)' to its essential pre- 
 cepts. Indeed, to speak freely, I can by no means 
 think, the great affectation of ornament in dress, 
 and magnificence in living, which is the expensive 
 taste of the present age, can bode well to the 
 public. The sins of Sodom, pride and idleness, 
 with fulness of bread, have long been in the midst 
 of us ; and if they are not reformed, they must, both 
 by their natural consequence, and by the righteous 
 judgment of God, involve our nation in destruction. 
 Wc have long been made to cat the ineiease of the 
 field, to suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of 
 the flinty rock: we have been fed with the fat o£ 
 kidneys of wheat, and drank the pure biood of the 
 grape ; till, like Jeshurun, we have waxed fat and 
 kicked : and therefore, as the guilt has been ours, 
 it will be but righteous, if the condemnation should 
 be ours too ; and a fire should be kindled against 
 us in God's anger, that should burn even to the 
 lowest hell, that should consume the land with its 
 increase, and set on fire the foundations of tlie 
 mountains. It becomes us, therefore, if we would 
 avert the deserved judgments of God, to set our- 
 selves, as in his presence, to examine seriously how 
 we arc using tlie talents he has graciously lent us ; 
 and instead of profusely wasting both our time and 
 our stock in vain indulgences, to apply ourselves 
 with honest industry to the proper business of our 
 calling ; and by a prudent frugality at home, to lay 
 a foundation for a liberal contribution to the poor. 
 So are we most likely to regain the strength and 
 honour of our nation, which luxury must infallibly 
 enervate and disgrace; and to draw down the bless- 
 ing of God upon our afl'airs ; as well as to provide 
 some resource for future supplies, if our present 
 preparation should be (which God forbid) unsuc- 
 cessful, or the war should be prolonged till the 
 
93G 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 burthen prow much more sensible tban it can at 
 present be. Aj;:iin, 
 
 3. " Too great a eonfidencc in our own military 
 strengtli and preparations," is another evil from 
 « hioh \> e slioiild be especially solicitous to keep 
 ourselves, in such a conjuncture of aft'airs as tliis. 
 
 Thioiipii the abundant goodness of God, the 
 armaments of Great Britain, both by sea and land, 
 ha\e, so far as I can recollect, in most instances, 
 since the beginning of the present century, been 
 attended with success ; and in some circumstances 
 that success has been glorious and remarkable. 
 These being then the latest facts, and facts of so 
 pleasant a nature, are apt to strike our remembrance 
 very strongly ; and are now recollected with so 
 much the more pleasure, as the last of them was 
 attended witli equal honour to Great Britain, and 
 shame and disappointment to Spain.* But I 
 fear, that (to allude to the expressive language 
 of the prophet) because we have often cauglit 
 our enemies in our net, and gathered them in 
 our drag, we arc fallen into the absurd impiety 
 of sacrificing to our net, and burning incense to our 
 drag : and though it is to be sure a pleasant thing, 
 to see our nation engaging in this necessary war 
 with ardour and cheerfulness, and the apparent 
 righteousness of our cause may indeed encourage 
 our humble hopes ; yet I cannot forbear saying, that 
 I fear, that great eagerness which in many instances 
 Las been shown on this occasion, has proceeded 
 from a forgetfulness of God, and a proud con- 
 fidence in ourselves ; as if victory w'ere chained to 
 our chariot wheels, and the winds, so often indeed 
 Jisted under our banners, were always to blow accord- 
 ing to our directions ; as if the artillery of our ships 
 were as unconquerable, as that of heaven itself, 
 and we could at pleasure send forth our thunder, 
 and scatter our enemies, and shoot out lightnings, 
 and discomfit them. 
 
 But let it be remembered, that Pharaoh stood on 
 the very verge of disgrace and destruction, when he 
 said, I will pursue, I will overtake, I will divide 
 the spoil ; my lust shall be satisfied upon them ; I 
 will draw my sword, and my hand shall destroy 
 them. Yea, let us remember in general, that pride 
 goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit 
 before a fall. I can wish no happier omen, than 
 that we should learn the language and sentiments, 
 w hich that martial hero, whom we mentioned before 
 on a like occasion, so often inculcates upon his 
 people ; that we may say with him. In the name of 
 our God will we set up our banners ; through thee 
 will we push down our cnwnics ; through thy name 
 will we tread them under, that rise up against us ; 
 for I will not trust in my bow, neither shall my 
 
 * 1 suppose few need to be told, tint I refer to that glorious expe- 
 dition to .Sicily, ill the year 1718, which was conducted with 60 much 
 siiiril, prudence, and bravery by Admiral Byng, afterwards Viscount 
 Torrington. 
 
 sword save me. Though some trust in chariots and 
 some in horses, w e will remember the name of the 
 Lord our God ; for God delights not in the strength 
 of the horse, neither takes he pleasure in the legs 
 of a man, so that his victory should be proportion- 
 able to their strength, and their agility : and there- 
 fore, thougli in some cases the horse may prudently 
 be prepared against the day of battle ; yet still 
 must it be acknowledged, that safety is of the Lord. 
 He breaks the bow, and cuts the spear in sunder, 
 he burns the chariot in the fire ; salvation belongs 
 to the Lord ; his blessing is upon his people. We 
 have indeed no warrant to expect a miraculous 
 interposition of God in our favour; and it would 
 be folly and wickedness, in a dependence upon that, 
 to neglect any necessary methods of defence : but 
 still it is to be remembered, that (as we proved 
 under the former head) the success of all is from 
 above ; and that it is, on the whole, through God 
 alone we can do valiantly, and he it is that must 
 tread down our enemies. This we are solemnly 
 acknowledging in the devotions of this day ; and 
 God grant, that it may fix on our minds that pious 
 humility, which, as it is perfectly consistent with 
 tlie firmest valour, has in some very remarkable in- 
 stances been a prelude to the most glorious success. 
 
 Let me add but this once more, 
 
 4. " Too keen a resentment for injuries received 
 from our enemies, growing into a malignant hatred 
 against them," is another evil, which we should be 
 peculiarly solicitous in our present circumstances 
 to avoid. 
 
 It is certain indeed, that some of those violences 
 which have been offered us, have been attended 
 with circumstances of such barbarity and contempt, 
 as cannot but awaken a strong indignation ; and 
 the genius of Britons can very ill brook such kind 
 of treatment. Yet permit me to say, that it would 
 be unjust to charge the whole Spanish nation with 
 such enormities, as have been committed by some, 
 probably in the number of the most abandoned 
 among them. Humanity is not the growth of one 
 particular climate, but a happy inheritance divided 
 among the various inhabitants of the earth ; and I 
 doubt not, but it teaches many among them to 
 abhor the villanies of their countrymen. But if 
 not, be that reproach to our enemies ; and may it 
 never fall upon us, that we have delighted in the 
 unnecessary misery of our fellow-creatures, and 
 have retorted cruelty for cruelty. We are indeed 
 to wish, that injustice may be so chastised, as that 
 for the future it may be suppressed; but God for 
 bid, that we should thirst for blood and ruin, or 
 take delight to think of the sufferings of any, how 
 ill soever they may have deserved of us! 
 
 War, in such circumstances as ours, is the rigor- 
 ous and severe work of justice, and must be done; 
 but methinks a humane heart consents to it with 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 937 
 
 some sensible regret, and will sometimes bleed to 
 think, that those benevolent and brotherly cares 
 that ought to fill the heart of one man for another, 
 and of one nation for another, should be turned 
 into thoughts and schemes of destruction ; and give 
 place to contrivances, how men may be slaughtered, 
 and cities laid waste, and the beauties of nature 
 and art ravaged and defaced. 
 
 It would indeed be a partial and short-sighted 
 tenderness, if potent nations should, on these prin- 
 ciples, suffer themselves to be injured and insulted 
 by every foreign bravo ; till at length they sink 
 into contempt, and yield up themselves, or their 
 dependants, a tame and helpless prey to injustice 
 and cruelty. A neglect of the proper methods of 
 self-defence would leave them chargeable before 
 God and man with the calamities resulting from it: 
 yet still it becomes them, in the vindication of their 
 just rights, to guard against that savage fierceness, 
 which forgets that enemies are men.* It becomes 
 us rather to wish, they may be brought to reason 
 by the least destructive methods ; and that what 
 they in the mean time suffer, may be a profitable 
 lesson to others, and, on the whole, to themselves. 
 
 I apprehend these admonitions not unseasonable, 
 and having enlarged so far upon them, shall omit 
 some other heads, which might easily be connected 
 with them ; and shall, 
 
 III. Conclude this Discourse with some general 
 reflections. 
 
 Now, such as these will probably present them- 
 selves to most of your thoughts ; and, no doubt, 
 you have anticipated me in some of them. 
 
 1. Let us be deeply humbled before God for the 
 evils that are to be found among us. 
 
 Let us lie down, as it were, in the dust, in his 
 sacred presence, when we consider that with us, 
 even witli us, there are so many c; \ing abomina- 
 tions to he found, notwithstanding all that God has 
 been pleaseu to do for us. Let us be humbled 
 before him, not only for the sins of our princes, 
 and nobles, and priests, and people ; but more 
 especially under a sense of our own guilt, and of 
 what we have added to the divine displeasure, by 
 oflences, if not in their kind peculiarly enormous, 
 yet at least in their circumstances most highly 
 aggravated. Let us borrow the expressions of 
 humble contrition, which were used by God's 
 ancient people, and each of us say with Ezra, O 
 my God, I am ashamed, and blush to lift up my 
 face to thee, my God ; for our iniquities are in- 
 creased over our head, and our trespass is grown 
 ! up unto the heavens : since the days of our fathers 
 I have we been in a great trespass unto this day ; — 
 and behold, we are now before thee in our tres- 
 passes ; and we cannot stand before thee, because 
 
 * Viri boni est, inilia belli invitum suscipcre, cxtrcma non libentcr 
 pcrsequ i .—Sal hist. 
 
 of this. Let us say with Jeremiah, We lie down in 
 our shame, and our confusion covereth us ; for we 
 have sinned against the Lord our God, we and 
 our fathers, from our youth even to this day, and 
 have not obeyed the voice of the Lord our God. 
 Let us say with Daniel, when he set his face unto 
 the Lord God, to seek him by prayer, and suppli- 
 cations, with fasting, and sackcloth, and ashes, O 
 Lord, the great and dreadful God, we have sinned, 
 and have committed iniquity, and have done 
 wickedly, and have rebelled, even by departing 
 from thy precepts and thy judgments: — O Lord, 
 righteousness belongs unto thee, but unto us con- 
 fusion of faces, as at this day, — to our kings, to our 
 princes, and to our fathers, because we have sinned 
 against thee ; — neither have we obeyed the voice of 
 the Lord our God, to walk in his laws, which he 
 set before us by his servants the prophets : — Never- 
 theless, O Lord, hear ; O Lord forgive ; O Lord, 
 hearken and do ; defer not for thine own sake, O 
 my God ; for thy people are called by thy name. 
 
 Nor let this be words alone, but the deep-felt sen- 
 timents of our hearts. Let us call to remembrance 
 our manifold engagements to God, on the one hand, 
 and our transgressions against him, on the other; 
 and acknowledge, in the abasement and bitterness 
 of our souls before him, that it would be a righteous 
 thing in him to bring destruction upon us in its 
 most painful and dreadful forms, to infatuate all 
 our counsels, to blast all our undertakings, to sink 
 our navies in the midst of the sea, to cause our own 
 hearts to melt, and our hands to fail, while those of 
 our enemies were strengthened for our ruin ! Let 
 us humbly acknowledge, that he would be just in 
 all that came upon us, if this pleasant land, in 
 which we have enjoyed so great plenty and pros- 
 perity, should become a desert ; or if we sliould see 
 those possessions for which we ourselves have 
 laboured, or which have been transmitted to us from 
 our forefathers, plundered by strangers, or even in- 
 herited by enemies. And while we are confessing 
 this, let us endeavour by earnest and importunate 
 prayer to avert these deserved judgments, and 
 wrestle with God not to destroy his people ; but to 
 give us that help from trouble, without which we 
 shall find, that vain is the help of man. 
 
 Let these thoughts, which I hope arc impressing 
 our minds in the solemnities of this day, be carried 
 along with us into our secret retirements ; let us 
 spread them before God in our family devotion, and 
 let them have a becoming share in our private wor- 
 ship. And if we desire that these supjilications and 
 prayers may not be an abomination to a lioiy God, 
 let us, 
 
 2. Be very solicitous to exert ourselves to the ut- 
 most, to promote a work of general reformation, ac- 
 cording to the various stations in which Providence 
 has placed us. 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 Our care in this rcspccl, if it be earnest and sin- 
 cere, will begin with ourselves ; and we should now 
 particularly consider ourselves, as solemnly called 
 by God to search and try our ways, that we may 
 turn :ia,ain to the Lord. In obedience to the com- 
 mand, let us, as it were, call a court in our con- 
 sciences, and impartially judge ourselves, as tliose 
 that are shortly to be jud<!,ed of the Lord. \\'liat- 
 ever is criminal, whatever is even suspicious, in our 
 temper and conduct, let us endeavour to regulate it 
 by the certain rules of religion, and bring all our 
 sentiments and actions to its unerring standard. 
 Let us not only cease to do evil, but learn to do well ; 
 labouring to the very utuiost to prevent any reproach 
 to our profession, and to rellcct a glory upon it. 
 Could every one be engaged to tiiis, ail would be 
 well ; nay, should it grow the prevailing temper, 
 we might reasonably hope, that tiie innocent would 
 deliver the island ; yea, that it should be preserved 
 by the pureness of their hands. 
 
 And this will naturally engage us to a proper 
 care of those committed to our immediate charge. 
 It will, no doubt, have a happy influence upon heads 
 of families, to stir them up to walk before tlieir 
 houses in a perfect way ; and so to govern, as well 
 as instruct, their domestics, that none under their 
 roof and care may make themselves vile, without 
 being restrained by proper discipline. This would, 
 under God, (who very seldom denies a blessing to 
 such pious endeavours,) have a happy tendency to 
 secure to our country a race of virtuous and pious 
 youth, whose behaviour might wipe oft" tlie stain 
 which the sins of tlieir fatliers have thrown upon it; 
 out of regard to w hom God might deal so much the 
 more graciously with us, while they were growing 
 up for public service, and might say of our nation, 
 as in another case, Destroy it not, for a blessing is 
 in it. And, to conclude all, 
 
 3. Let us, from what we have now been hearing, 
 be excited earnestly to pray for those, who, by rea- 
 son of their more public stations in life, may be 
 capable of doing more than ourselves, to promote 
 the work of national reformation. 
 
 And here our magistrates justly claim the first 
 share in our remembrance. Let us earnestly pray, 
 that divine grace may possess their hearts with a 
 sense of the importance of their respective ofliccs, 
 and of the strict account they must another day ren- 
 der for the manner in wliich they have discharged 
 them. — Let us especially pray for our gracious 
 sovereign, w ho is calling us to these prayers, and 
 joining with his people in humiliation before the 
 King of kings, and Lord of lords. Let us pray, 
 that the Lord may hear him in the day of trouble, 
 that the name of the God of Jacob may defend him ; 
 that he may send him help from his sanctuary, and 
 strengthen him out of Zion ! That the king may joy 
 in the strength of the Lord, and in his salvation 
 
 m.iy greatly rejoice ! That as he is thus publicly 
 declaring his trust in the Lord, through the mercy 
 of the Most High he may not be moved ; but that 
 God's hand may find out all his enemies, and his 
 right hand may find out those tiiat hale him! Tliat 
 his glory may be great in God's salvation, and in- 
 creasing honour and majesty may be laid upon him! 
 I am persuaded, there is not a heart that does not 
 answer Amen ! May the father of our country hear, 
 that his enemies are humbled abroad ! May he see 
 his people united and reformed at home I Yea, 
 may God make him most blessed for ever ; that in 
 the future and infinitely most important world, 
 they that have been here protected by him in war, 
 and cherished in peace, may see him as much dis- 
 tinguished by celestial glories, as he now is by 
 earthly dignities ! — May all our counsellors be wise, 
 and all our judges faithful ! May our legislators 
 enact good laws, and inferior magistrates vigor- 
 ously execute them ! And may all our rulers, from 
 the highest to the lowest, be themselves examples of 
 universal goodness ! May they scatter away all evil 
 witli their eyes, and make it ashamed by their pre- 
 sence ! May they resolutely reform the people who 
 generally of all others need it most, their own do- 
 mestics and dependants ! And may they have that 
 inward veneration from all about them, which 
 nothing but a character for real religion can give, 
 even to the greatest and wisest of mankind. 
 
 Let us pray likewise for our military, as well as 
 our civil, officers ; that they may exert themselves, 
 with a bravery so well becoming their character, to 
 drive out wickedness, that most dangerous enemy, 
 from our camps and navies, which it has so boldly 
 invaded ; yea, where it has by so long a custom 
 claimed a kind of right to jiitch its tent, and to set 
 up its banners. This will indeed be a very hard 
 conquest, considering the circumstances in which 
 persons generally enter on such a life, and the great 
 and dangerous leisure which it gives them, in a time 
 of long peace, of corrupting themselves and each 
 other. Yet the extensive power, which is annexed 
 to superior ofiicers in every regiment, and company, 
 may give them great advantages for serving tlieir 
 country, by regulating tlie external behaviour of 
 those under their command ; and human authority 
 can pretend to regulate nothing more. They may, 
 for instance, be restrained from the open violation 
 of the sabbath, and called to an attendance upon 
 public worship, under one form of it or another; 
 and a great check may be given to tliat le« dness, 
 debauchery, and profaneness, in which not a few of 
 them vie w ith each other, as if they w ere the dis- 
 tinguishing honours of their order. I look upon it 
 as a great ornament, honour, and blessing to our 
 land, that many of our ofiicers are very amiable ex- 
 amples of virtue and piety, and know how deficient 
 even the character of a gentleman is, when notori- 
 
OCCASIONA 
 
 ously wanting in either. And we in these parts 
 have had many opportunities of observing, how good 
 an influence the inspection of such persons has 
 upon the inferior soldiery, to secure the regularity 
 and decency of their behaviour. Let us earnestly 
 pray, that the Lord of hosts, whom we are entreat- 
 ing to cover the heads of our warriors in the day of 
 battle, may more generally inspire the hearts of 
 those that lead them forth with his fear, and excite 
 them, however it may be censured by the abandoned 
 and profane, to exert themselves to the utmost, 
 to form their troops to the discipline of virtue, as 
 well as of war. It is what the credit of their pro- 
 fession, and I will add, the safety of the public, re- 
 quires. And I must take the liberty particularly to 
 say, that when my ears are at any time wounded 
 with those detestable imprecations, which are in 
 many places so common among our soldiery, and 
 which are, I think, an infallible proof of a character 
 thoroughly bad, I am ready to tremble with the sad 
 apprehension, lest their guilt should turn back their 
 weapons of war ; and lest God should suddenly 
 send them, from the points of their enemies' swords, 
 or the mouths of their guns, that damnation which 
 they have so wantonly invoked on themselves and 
 each other. 
 
 We are under yet more apparent obligation, to 
 pray for those that preside in religious assemblies 
 of all denominations ; that God would clothe his 
 priests with salvation ; as what will have a most 
 important influence to make his people joyful and 
 happy. May their hearts and hands be united in 
 that good work which is committed to tliein ! May 
 God deliver them from the shame and folly of em- 
 ploying the solemn seasons of public worship, in 
 reproaching their brethren, and animating the 
 hearts of professing Christians against each other ! 
 An enormity which, I think, is in our day gene- 
 rally driven out with a just contempt ; unless per- 
 haps it be yet sheltered among a very few, whom 
 great ignorance, or greater wickedness, has reduced 
 to this wretched expedient, as a kind of forlorn 
 hope. May a better temper universally succeed ; 
 and however Christian assemblies may differ in 
 some of their forms of worship, yet as they agree in 
 the essentials of it, may their ministers agree in 
 pursuing the same great end ; and as they all have 
 one errand, may their language, in the main, be 
 one ! May they all speak with plainness, with 
 seriousness, and I will add, with that authority too, 
 which nothing but conscious integrity and goodness 
 can give! Not even amusing, and much less firing, 
 the minds of men, with matters of doubtful disputa- 
 tions ; but rather exerting themselves to the utmost 
 for that one plain, but glorious, purpose, of reform- 
 ing men's tempers and lives upon the Christian 
 plan ! 
 
 For promoting the efficacy of such labours as 
 
 I SERMONS. 939 
 
 these, we should earnestly pray, that all who are 
 employed in them, may be examples of distinguish- 
 ing piety ; and that God would be like a refiner's 
 fire, to purify the sons of Levi. For while any 
 gross immoralities are observable in their conduct, 
 they will wound religion like a two-edged sword ; 
 as their hearers, by a perverseness and inconsist- 
 ency very natural to the licentious and profane, 
 will look upon it as a sanction at once for despising 
 their persons, and imitating their vices. Ministers 
 of all denominations claim our prayers on these 
 heads ; and peculiarly those of established churches ; 
 where, as the temporal emoluments are generally 
 greatest, there is of course more to invite unworthy 
 persons to offer themselves to the ministry. — Nor 
 ought we to forget in our prayers at such seasons, 
 those wise, learned, and pious men, whom our 
 governors may from time to time think fit to raise 
 to the most exalted stations among the clergy, and 
 to invest with a dignity and authority, which though 
 no part of their ministerial oflice, is capable of being 
 improved to great advantage. It is devoutly to be 
 wished, that they may use their great influence and 
 power, to exclude those that are unworthy from 
 that important trust, as persons whom they cannot 
 suppose to be called by the Holy Ghost to take it 
 upon them ; and that they may preside over the 
 doctrine and behaviour of those committed to their 
 care, in such a manner, as may render both most 
 edifying to those who attend their instruction. By 
 these pious and zealous endeavours an establish- 
 ment will flourish, and separate interests decrease. 
 But what folly and inicLuity were it, so much as 
 secretly to wish, that one limb might grow by the 
 distemper of the body, or one coast be enrielied by 
 the wreck of the public navy ! 
 
 Once more, let us, on the principles on which I 
 am now insisting, earnestly pray for those, who 
 have the care of educating youth intended for pub- 
 lic stations. Let us pray for all the universities of 
 Great Britain, and for more private academies 
 and schools ; which, according to the manner in 
 which they are regulated, will either be the blessing 
 or the calamity of our country. May those, that 
 are so trained up for one important employment 
 or another, and especially those intended for the 
 ministry of Christ's church, be formed to extensive 
 knowledge, and above all, to tlie knowledge of the 
 gospel ! May they be regulated by proper disci- 
 pline, that habits of virtue may be formed, as well 
 as principles of science and truth imbibed ! May 
 those to whom God has conunitted tiic higli and 
 laborious, though honourable, charge of presiding 
 over such societies, ever remember how much 
 they have to answer for, to God, and to their 
 country ! May they cultivate these plantations with 
 that assiduity, may they watch over them with 
 that caution, and I will add, may they weed them 
 
910 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Mitli th:it pnuleiu'c and resolution, wliicli in con- 
 currence with those inlhienccs from above, on whicli 
 all depends, may render them like a lield which 
 the Lord has blessed, and a garden which he con- 
 tinually cares for! There may the rising hopes of 
 future generations flourish, and those plants be 
 reared and spread, which in due time may beautify 
 our land, and refresh and nourish its iniiabitants ! 
 — And may God so guard our religious and civil 
 liberties from generation to generation, tliat in this 
 respect, as well as the other, the inhabitants of our 
 favoured island may sit every man under his vine, 
 and under his fig-tree, and have none to make him 
 afraid. May not the study and the arts of peace, 
 among us at least, be interrupted by the noise of 
 war ; may not our ears hear the tumult of battle, 
 nor our eyes see the miserable spectacles it pro- 
 duces ! Only by report may we learn the success 
 of our fleets and our armies abroad ; till we at 
 length hear, that the contention ends in a safe and 
 honourable peace ! 
 
 And let it not be misinterpreted, as unwortliy a 
 British and a Christian heart, to add, let us i)ray 
 for our enemies ; for that haughty nation, which 
 despises our prayers, and has treated us with so 
 much injustice and contempt. May they be sensi- 
 ble of the injury they have done us, and of the 
 affront they have, by every act of injustice and 
 cruelty, offered to the Majesty of heaven, the 
 Father of nations, and the Guardian of men ; whose 
 penetrating eye sees through the frauds which may 
 cover treaties, and before whose tribunal those 
 criminals must be arraigned, who are too great, or 
 too distant, for the reach of human justice ! May 
 Spain have no reason to glory in those vain refuges, 
 to w hich the idolatrous principles of their unhappy 
 church teach them to fly ! May they be disposed to 
 give, and we to receive, all reasonable satisfaction ! 
 And O that, if it were the will of God, their eyes 
 migiit be opened to sec the delusions of popery, 
 which they support in all its darkness, and rigour, 
 and terror ! O that they might be so happy, as to 
 understand the guilt of those murders, wJiich they 
 are committing in the injured name of the most 
 merciful Jesus ! May their princes, and their 
 
 priests, sec how much it is for their own interest on 
 the whole, whatever the principles of carnal policy 
 may dictate, to divest themselves of those spoils of 
 innocence, and ornaments of superstition, which, 
 gaudy as they seem, may mark them out as the ob- 
 jects of divine vengeance ! The day will assuredly 
 come, when the cry of the souls under the altar 
 siiall be heard : and there is hardly a nation under 
 heaven that has more reason to dread it, than that 
 with which we are now contending ; for none have 
 been more eager, and none more resolute and 
 inexorable, in treading out the first sparks of truth, 
 when it began to kindle among them, and in 
 adding the blood of the martyrs to all their other 
 pollutions.* 
 
 In what rigour that diabolical engine of mischief, 
 the inquisition, is still established among them, you 
 need not to be told ; but though its foundations are 
 laid deep as liell, tlie hand of God can overthrow 
 them. He can shake the firmest arches of the dun- 
 geon, and lay open all that laboured artificial dark- 
 ness to the full lustre of truth and the gospel. May 
 he hasten that happy time, when he will do it; that 
 day, when the all-uniting religion of the blessed 
 Jesus shall exert its genuine influence, and cement 
 the divided kingdoms, tiiat now call themselves his 
 church, in holy friendship and fraternal affection ! 
 that happy day, when instead of preparing the in- 
 struments, and studying the arts, of destruction, 
 they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and 
 their spears into pruning-hooks ; when nation 
 shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall 
 they learn war any more ; for the earth shall be 
 full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters 
 cover the sea ! Amen. 
 
 * I doubt not but mnny of my readers will know, that I here refer 
 to whut linppened in Spiiiii (luickly after the Reformation ; which we 
 learn particularly from Paramus, an in(|iiisitor, and another popish 
 writer of note, as quoted by Dr. Geddes, in the first volume of liis in- 
 estimable Tracts, p. 447, et seq. viz. That tlie Spanish divines sent by 
 the emperor Charles the Fifth, and hisson Philip the Second, intoGer. 
 many, England, and Flanders, to convert the jirotestaitts in those parts 
 to the Roman faith, were themselves converted from popery ; and a* 
 they were pers'ifis of ffreat learniu;^ and piety, returned into their na. 
 tive country full of zeal for its reformation ; but were immediately 
 seized by the merciless innuisition, and tog;ether with many illustrious 
 converts, which were tlie first-fruits of their ministry, wtjre cruelly sa- 
 crificed on scatfolds, and at the stake. Dr. Geddes has preserved 
 an account of some of the glorious leaders in that army of martyrs, 
 which, short and incomplete as it is, deserves an attentive perusal. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 941 
 
 SERMON XVII. 
 
 REFLECTIONS ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN THE CONCLUSION 
 
 OF THE LATE WAR * 
 
 Psalm cvii. 43. 
 
 Whoso is wise, and uill observe those things, even 
 they shall understand the loving-kindness of the 
 Lord. 
 
 As almost all the nations of the earth have, from 
 their first plantation upon it, had some forms of re- 
 ligion among them, (though alas, those forms have 
 been too generally erroneous and superstitious,) it 
 is observable, they have had recourse to their sacred 
 solemnities, when they have been passing from 
 peace to war, or from war to peace. Among some 
 of the most celebrated of the ancients, war was pro- 
 claimed by the ministers of religion, and military 
 expeditions were opened by devout processions and 
 public sacrifices ; whereby they seemed to appeal to 
 their deities as witnesses of the justice of their cause, 
 and professedly to put themselves under their pro- 
 tection. f And when the strife of war ceased, 
 pacific treaties have generally been confirmed by 
 the sanction of mutual oaths ; and the festivities 
 which have accompanied the conclusion of them, 
 have crowded the temples with worshippers, as well 
 as the streets and houses with tokens of rejoicing. 
 Well then may such customs prevail in Christian 
 states, where our dependence on Divine Providence 
 is known to such advantage ; and most suitable is 
 it to a sovereign, who esteems it his honour to be 
 called the defender of the faith, after having so 
 often called us together to supplicate the divine 
 blessing on his arms, thus to assemble us this day 
 to return our thanks to the great Disposer of all 
 events, for the success with which he has crowned our 
 negociations of peace. And surely our cheerful 
 compliance is the more evidently reasonable, as all 
 the successes of the war abroad, glorious as some 
 of them have indeed been, were so balanced by 
 events of a different nature, that our governors (who 
 sing not Te Deum in vain) did not think it conve- 
 
 • Prcarlird at Norlliamptoii, April 25, 1719, being Hie day appointed 
 by his Majesty for a Gtmral Tlianksgiving on account of the Peace 
 I concluded with Frnnce and Spain. 
 
 + I am persu.ided, that the 149th Psalm is an ode of tliis kind, that 
 was sung when David's army was njarrhirij; out to war against tlje 
 remnant of the devoted nations, and fir>t went up in solemn procession 
 •o the house of (iod, there as it were to consecrate tlie arms he put into 
 their hands. The heds referred to, verse r>, on wliich llu y were to sing 
 aloud, were prolialily tlie couelies on wliicli they lay at the banciuet 
 attending tlieir sacrifices; which gives a noble sense to a pass;,ge, on 
 «ny other inli rprelalion hardly iiilelligihie. 
 
 nient to appoint one day of general thanksgiving on 
 the account of them. 
 
 As we well know Divine Providence to be con- 
 cerned even in the minutest affairs of the animal or 
 vegetable creation, we must certainly, on the most 
 obvious principles, acknowledge its interposition 
 where large communities of men are in question : 
 with relation to these it is peculiarly said, I form 
 the light, and create darkness ; I make peace, and 
 create evil ; I the Lord do all these things. And 
 as a careful attention to Providence is always our 
 duty and interest, it will especially appear so in 
 proportion to the importance of the events it pro- 
 duces and directs. To such reflections therefore I 
 would this day invite you, and I know not how to 
 do it better than in the words of the text ; which 
 are the more suitable, as the vicissitudes to which 
 they immediately relate are evidently of a public 
 nature ; circumstances, whereby men were on the 
 one hand blessed with prosperity and plenty, or on 
 the other hand diminished and brought low, through 
 oppression, affliction, and sorrow, by such revolu- 
 tions as did not only affect numbers of private per- 
 sons, but poured contempt upon princes, and caused 
 those that had once been distinguished, perhaps in 
 cities, provinces, or armies, to wander forlorn in the 
 trackless wilderness. All these things are supposed 
 under a moral government and superintendency, 
 which should at length cause the righteous to re- 
 joice, and iniquity, how loudly soever it had for a 
 while triumphed and insulted, to stop its mouth, 
 confounded and ashamed. And then it is added, 
 Whoso is wise, he will observe these things ; so 
 observe them, as to sec the secret hand of God in 
 them, even where the train of events is most natu- 
 ral : and they who attend to them in this light, shall 
 understand the loving-kindness of the Lord to them 
 that fear him, which shall emerge gloriously out of 
 every cloud that might seem for a while to darken 
 it. Thus the psalm ends ; and the prophecy of 
 Hosea concludes with a passage exactly parallel to 
 this, in which my text seems to be quoted and para- 
 phrased : Who is wise, and he shall understand 
 these things? prudent, and he shall know them.' 
 for the ways of the Lord are riglit, and the just 
 shall walk in them ; but the transgressors shall fall 
 therein. 
 
 Permit me then .solemnly to call you this day, to 
 
942 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 make a serious pause, and to employ that iccess 
 from other business whicli the season and the place 
 give, in looking back upon the series of events 
 through which we have lately passed, as those that, 
 bclie\ing tiie universal government of God, would 
 regard the works of the Lord, and consider the ope- 
 ration of his hands. The power of relieclion is the 
 glory of tlie rational nature. May we now bedi-. 
 reeled to a proper use of it! and it will afford us 
 a calm pleasure, which, though in these circum- 
 stances iiot unchastised with pain, is nevertheless 
 much to be preferred to all the joys of a licentious 
 mirth, to the laughter of fools, which Solomon es- 
 teemed but as the crackling of thorns under a pot. 
 
 It would very ill become me, to pretend to a 
 knowledge of the secret springs of those events 
 which have lately passed before us, or to set up for 
 any peculiar penetration in judging of things which 
 are most apparent. But there are certain obvious 
 remarks which arise from circumstances universally 
 known, which, though they be important in pro- 
 portion to the degree in which they are obvious, 
 some for want of attention may not fall upon, and 
 others may not discern in that connexion v.hich is 
 like to render them most useful. I think it there- 
 fore congruous to the relation in which I stand to 
 you, and to the occasion of this day's assembly, to 
 endeavour to guide your meditations to them, and 
 to assist you in dwelling on the review. 
 
 Let me then mention several things which have 
 lately passed before the eyes of all Europe, as 
 worthy of your further remembrance and consider- 
 ation. And I shall endeavour to do it without any 
 unnecessarily severe reflections upon those of our 
 neighbours, with whom we have lately been con- 
 tending. When hostilities were once commenced, 
 many of the events most grievous to us were justi- 
 fiable by the laws of nations : and so far as ambi- 
 tion, or any other evil principle, might be the 
 occasions of opening them, may the great Preserver 
 of men forgive it, and make us and our new friends 
 for the future wiser and happier ! In the mean 
 time, as the most solemn acts of mutual reconcili- 
 ation have passed, it would be unworthy the gene- 
 rosity of Britons to relicarse the wrongs they could 
 not but once apprehend and resent. But it is surely 
 consistent with the sincerest reconciliation, and 
 with all the rules of propriety and decency, on such 
 an occasion as this, to commemorate the divine 
 goodness to us in events, which during the breach 
 were afflictive to those who were then our enemies : 
 and it is with no unfriendly disposition that we 
 wish, they likewise may remember them for their 
 future instruction. I shall not therefore make any 
 furtlier apology for what of this nature may occur ; 
 but proceed to those reflections which may be 
 naturally suggested from what we may easily recol- 
 lect of the rise, progress, and conclusion of the 
 
 war ; reflections, which it may in many instances 
 be pleasant to pursue, and I hope in all profitable 
 to retain. 
 
 I. Let us recollect, how much we are obliged to 
 the divine goodness, that the late war hath not 
 proved our destruction, or that of our protestant 
 neighbours. 
 
 Nothing is more common, than for those who 
 have long been pampered with the blessings of 
 peace, in the height of their spirits, to plunge 
 themselves into war with a kind of wanton confi- 
 dence, like that with which the horse rushes into 
 the battle : but the issue has been so frequent, that 
 it grew into a proverb many ages ago. They who 
 take the sword perish with the sword. Let us 
 adore the divine goodness, that Great Britain is not 
 added to the instances which illustrate it. It is the 
 more reasonable particularly to acknowledge it, 
 considering how ill we were provided with some 
 kind of preparations, and how destitute of alliances, 
 when the war with Spain broke out ; and how de- 
 plorably, I will not pretend to say by what sad 
 fatality, we have since been disappointed in our 
 expectations from some, who were most evidently 
 joined with us in a community of public interest, 
 had public interest been duly understood or re- 
 garded. 
 
 But it is suflSeient to have hinted at this. Let 
 me rather call back your thoughts this day to the 
 storm that hung over us, when France was prepar- 
 ing for so formidable an invasion, and God blew 
 with his wind, and scattered them, and strewed their 
 own shores with the wreck of those ships and men, 
 which had been armed for our destruction ; an 
 event, the importance of which there were few that 
 then thoroughly understood, though what since 
 happened opened the view more distinctly upon 
 us. I here refer to that bold attempt, then con- 
 certed, and quickly after made, by the enemies of 
 Britain at home, in concurrence w ith those abroad. 
 And let me now more solemnly recall to your re- 
 membrance that day of alarm and consternation, 
 when a little spring from the Northern mountains, 
 which seemed in its rise beneath our notice, (and 
 was unhappily too much despised,) swelled on a 
 sudden into a torrent, that deluged half our land : 
 when battalions of desperate and infatuated men, 
 having consecrated their swords to our destruction, 
 in blood ever to be lamented, bent on completing 
 the ruin of their country, came pouring on us with 
 such savage fury and unrestrained impetuosity; 
 till it pleased God, according to the language in 
 which he speaks of the proud Assyrian, to put a 
 hook into their nose, and a bridle into their jaws, 
 to turn them back by the way which they came, even 
 like him to their own land, that they might perish 
 there. Dwell, Sirs, on an idea, v.hich I hope is 
 already familiar to your mind, and onglit for ever 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 943 
 
 to be retained. Do you not even now tremble to 
 think, what the consequence would probably have 
 been, if those westerly winds which blew almost 
 continually during the same season of the last year, 
 had then been commissioned to detain our forces 
 on the continent ! What an aera had that been in 
 the British history ! What a spectacle to Europe ! 
 What a lamentation to ages unborn ! But God 
 wafted over to us speedy deliverance, so that not a 
 company was kept back ; nay, I think I may add, 
 hardly a man or a horse miscarried. A deliverance 
 greatly endeared to us by the hand that brought it, 
 and by the remembrance of those importunate 
 prayers which we had so often presented in the day 
 of our distress. Pursue the reflection, and let your 
 hearts this day feel anew the tender and lively gra- 
 titude which you owe to God, and to your human 
 protectors. 
 
 It becomes us also this day most thankfully to re- 
 collect, in what undisturbed tranquillity we have 
 generally lived, during this ten years' war ; sitting 
 as in the profoundest peace under our own vines 
 and fig-trees ; as entire strangers to those grievous 
 desolations and horrid spectacles, which so many 
 thousands of our neighbours have known, as if no 
 sword had ever been unsheathed. We immediately 
 owe it to the vigilance of our governors, and the 
 advantages of our situation, in concurrence with 
 the strength of our navy, and the conduct, courage, 
 and fidelity of those to whom the command of it 
 was entrusted, (and which the contrary character 
 and behaviour of some in their station has, alas, 
 too unhappily illustrated :) but let us remember, 
 that the governors, the situation, the navy, the com- 
 manders, in which wc rejoice, are the gifts of a 
 kind Providence, and are to be acknowledged as 
 such. Let the safety of Britain and its provinces, 
 in consequence of all, be the subject of our repeat- 
 ed and continued thanksgivings. Nor let us be so 
 unfeeling for the protcstant in general, so forgetful 
 of former benefits, so insensible even of our own 
 present and future security, as not to rejoice, that 
 our allies, and especially the United Provinces, 
 have shared with us in the rescue God has been 
 pleased to give us. Let us adore the Almighty that 
 those prayers for their safety, which we had so 
 much reason to unite with those for our own, have 
 appeared to come up in remembrance before God ; 
 so that they are indeed as a brand plucked out of 
 the burning. Praise waiteth for thee, O God, in our 
 Sion, on all these accounts ; and unto thee may our 
 ■vows be performed ! the vows, which wc made 
 when we were in trouble and perplexity, and lifted 
 up our eyes unto thee, from whom our help conieth, 
 even to the God that made heaven and earth. 
 But amidst all the joy which these reflections may 
 afford, 
 
 II. Let us humble ourselves in the review of 
 
 those rebukes of Providence, which we experienced 
 during the series of the late war. 
 
 I question, whether modern history* can produce 
 an instance, in which a war has been entered into 
 with more towering hopes, with more anticipated 
 triumph, than that which we proclaimed against 
 Spain ; and probably, the wisest men amongst us 
 thought that confidence no very good omen of our 
 success. Wc seemed to think, we had nothing to 
 do but to gird on our terrors, and make the earth 
 tremble. As if, according to the beautiful manner 
 in which Isaiah describes the pride of the Assyrian, 
 we might at pleasure go to the nations that had 
 offended us, as securely and irresistibly as to the 
 nest of some little insignificant bird, and gather 
 their riches, as one gathereth eggs that are left, 
 and there should be none to move the wing, or 
 to open the mouth, or to peep. But the event 
 proved very different : we found there was such a 
 thing as military prudence, and strength, and 
 bravery among our enemies, as well as among our- 
 selves : and after all the vain parade v,'ith which 
 we set out, we returned, in repeated instances, dis- 
 appointed and ashamed ; so as to have evident 
 reason, after such vast preparations, and such 
 presumptuous confidence, to apply to several of our 
 projects and attempts the words of Israel by the 
 same prophet. We have been with child, we have 
 been in pain ; we have as it were brought forth 
 wind ; we liave not wrought any deliverance in the 
 earth, neither have the inhabitants of the world 
 fallen before us. For succeeding years during our 
 war with France, though tlie British soldiery to their 
 immortal honour behaved so bravely, we heard not 
 of one battle gained, of one town taken by us or 
 our allies, on the continent ; while on the other 
 hand, we received repeated information of actions, 
 in which we had greatly the disadvantage, and in 
 which victory was snatched out of our hands by 
 accidents so vexatious, that they are not, axca at 
 this distance, to be named ; and of fine towns, more 
 than memory can number, lost to the enemy almost 
 as fast as their forces could march from one of them 
 to another, some without any resistance, and most 
 of the rest with only a feint of defence. 
 
 These, Sirs, are mortifying, but they are indis- 
 putable, truths ; and they must stand upon record, 
 not indeed to the shame of our forces or our gene- 
 rals, but for the instruction of generations to come, 
 that with good advice they may make war; and that, 
 how well soever the measures of it may seem to be 
 concerted, they may not, while girding on their 
 harness, boast as if they were putting it off. I 
 know, that by the war some particular interests 
 
 * I say moilern history, as I must allow the lriiim|)hant confidence 
 with which the Athenians sent out their navy and troops to the unfor- 
 tunate Sicilian war a;^ainst Syracuse, where tlicy were so deplorably 
 destroyed, to he an ever-mcmorahle exception, and so far ns I can re- 
 collect, an event unparalleled in its kind. See Tliucyd. page 431)— 432. 
 Diod. Sic. lib. xiii. ft lloll. Hist. Anc. 1. vlii. c. 8. 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 ha\e been largely advanced, and many considerable 
 ad\antaj;es for eoinnierce, wliilc we remained so 
 incontestably masters of the ocean, gained, which 
 to those concerned in them have more than balanced 
 their share in the public expense : but I cannot 
 iniagfine, that had the nation distinctly foreseen all 
 the consequences, they would have engaged in it 
 Mith the eagerness they did, when I sujipose the 
 whole gain that can be set down at the foot of the 
 account, to balance the loss of so many thousand lives, 
 and so many millions of treasure, is this, that some 
 of our neighbours are perhaps more exhausted than 
 we, and are less able, should they immediately 
 attempt it, to make themselves terrible to the liber- 
 ties of Europe. On the whole, just as our cause, 
 and upright and strenuous as our measures, were, it 
 appears to have been the scheme of Providence, to 
 save Great Britain from sinking into ruin, rather 
 than to exalt it: and we have much greater reason 
 to wonder, when we consider our circumstances in 
 comparison with our characters, that ruin was 
 averted, than that so few memorable advantages 
 were gained, or some sensible inconveniences in- 
 curred. In these views, 
 
 III. Let us acknow ledge the divine interposition, 
 which facilitated so equitable a peace as that which 
 we this day celebrate. 
 
 I shall not enter into any large discourse on the 
 blessings of peace in general ; since, how proper 
 soever it may be to recollect them at present, the 
 subject is trite, and many of the most material 
 thoughts which might illustrate it, sufficiently ob- 
 vious. But I would hint at some things, which are 
 peculiar to the present occasion. I am persuaded, 
 distant posterity will wonder, that so equitable a 
 treaty should take place, when they consider a 
 variety of attending circumstances, and compare 
 them with the great rapidity and extent of the 
 French conquests, and the evident superiority with 
 which they threatened the Low Countries, and by a 
 necessary consequence Britain itself, and all its 
 allies. To suppose this to have been owing to some 
 sudden change in the spirits of men, moderating 
 their ambitious views, and assuaging their thirst of 
 plunder and of empire, would increase rather than 
 abate the wonder; and there are incidents by which, 
 on very different principles, the change of measures 
 may be accounted for; but they are such as still 
 leave room to say, especially when compared with 
 each other, that it is the Lord's doing, and marvel- 
 lous in our eyes. 
 
 In this view we shall naturally think of our late 
 successes at sea, in the first place ; whereby the 
 designs of hostile powers were rendered abortive, 
 and those naval preparations which were intended 
 to ruin our colonies, were led home in triumph to 
 our own shores, and made at length to pour that 
 vengeance on themselves, which they had meditated 
 
 against us; whilst the opportunity which our mari- 
 time force gave us of cutting oil" their trade, and at 
 the same time of extending our own, added strength 
 to the sinews of war amongst us, which it weaken- 
 ed amongst them. Nor are we to consider that 
 ever-memorable series of providences which gave 
 Cape Breton into our hands, as insignificant to this 
 end. For though important reasons obliged the 
 goverimient to restore it, it is certain, the possession 
 which we actually had of so valuable a jewel of the 
 French crown must add great weight to our nego- 
 ciations, and equitably entitle us to many advan- 
 tages which we might not otherwise have been able 
 to obtain : not to say what inlluence our having so 
 long held it, and intimately known its state, con- 
 nexions, and dependences, may liave on settling 
 and conducting that colony to our adjacent province 
 of Nova Scotia, which under the divine blessing, (to 
 which I hope we shall fervently recommend it,) 
 may be productive of signal advantages, and prove 
 a happy equivalent for what it has been necessary 
 to resign. 
 
 In these things the arm of the Lord halli been 
 made bare ; and lest the part which we ourselves 
 have had in them should make us less sensible of 
 it, God hath been pleased to interpose in other 
 instances, where we could pretend to no share of 
 glor)'. In this view, besides what I said of the re- 
 newed wonders of Providence in so favourable a 
 disposition of the winds,* we have great reason to 
 reflect on the scarcity of provisions in France, while 
 we were enriched with plenty, for many successive 
 years. And though in the mean time distempers 
 reigned among our horned cattle, yet, blessed be 
 God, never to such a degree, as in some neighbour- 
 ing countries, where various provisions were raised 
 to almost three times their former value. And the 
 fertility of our sheep, as well as of our lands, while 
 our kine have been visited and afllicted, is never to 
 be reflected upon without grateful acknowledg- 
 ment ; as it hath not only moderated the price of 
 our food, but furnished us abundantly for those 
 manufactures, the trade of which has been carried 
 on extensively abroad, so much to our national ad- 
 vantage ; in consequence of which, we have been 
 much better able to support the necessary expense 
 of the war. And this has taught our enemies to 
 look upon us, not as an exhausted, ruined people, 
 but as those who had still resources sufficient to 
 render them formidable, and whom it was not their 
 interest to provoke to the last extremities. 
 
 I am indeed sensible, there are some, who being 
 themselves surrounded with all the blessings of 
 plenty, and attentive only to accidental personal 
 advantages, or to the happy consequences which 
 
 ♦ See some illustration of tlie expression here used, in my sermon, 
 preached on the Fast Day, 1738-9, and a miich fuller in that excellent 
 pamphlet, called Britain's Remembrancer, 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 945 
 
 might have attended some successful action on the 
 seas, or in the field, at a crisis like that which has 
 lately occurred, regret the pacification in which we 
 are this day called to rejoice. But such should 
 temper these sanguine views, by remembering, how 
 possible it was that another action might have been 
 unsuccessful to us and our allies, and how dreadful 
 the consequences of this must have been to the pub- 
 lic cause, and even to Britain itself ; w hose army 
 might then probably have been utterly cut off, and 
 whose naval strength might not have been able to 
 have defended it, if the wealth and shipping of Hol- 
 land had fallen into the hand that was stretched out 
 over them. The view indeed is so affecting, that 
 it is painful to dwell upon it ; and one trembles to 
 think of casting the die for so deep a stake, had the 
 chance been more equal than it seems to have been. 
 But one of the first unhappy events which might 
 have attended the risk, leads us to reflect on that 
 signal interposition of Heaven, which, in the hour of 
 extremity, and with a hand conspicuous to the 
 whole world, raised the House of Orange to such dis- 
 tinguished dignity and power, whereby the strength 
 of the Low Countries is drawn into a point, and a 
 steadiness and weight is given to their councils ; 
 which will render them respectable in the eyes of 
 all Europe, and must surely put it out of the power 
 of any neighbouring states, to traverse our interest 
 in them, and to deprive us of their important as- 
 sistance, if future emergencies should arise. From 
 this surprising event, with many others which have 
 occurred of late years, 
 
 IV. Let us take occasion to reflect on the vanity 
 of human ambition. 
 
 Some of its fatal effects we immediately saw ; 
 and I persuade myself, the hostilities whicii were 
 exchanged between us and our neighbours, could 
 not so far steel our hearts against all sentitoents of 
 humanity, as that we should not tenderly regret on 
 their side, as well as on our own, the many sacri- 
 fices which were made to that merciless demon. 
 And who must not now be struck, to observe how it 
 has repaid its votaries ? We may hope, it will be a 
 lesson of wisdom, moderation, and justice, to dis- 
 tant nations, and to future ages, when they hear and 
 read, how after so vast an expense of blood and 
 treasure, after so many fine provinces harassed, so 
 many rich cities plundered, so many thousands and 
 myriads slain in their prime, the consequence of all 
 should be, to quit what had been thus violently 
 usurped, with this only consolation, or little but 
 this, that the places through which the sanguinary 
 procession had passed, were left less populous, less 
 ' beautiful, less opulent, than they had been found, 
 and that perhaps a day had ruined what nature and 
 art had been years in forming. Can we imagine, 
 that if France could have foreseen, how France 
 would have been lacerated, chastised, and exhaust- 
 3 p 
 
 ed, not to say in many instances disgraced, it would 
 have purchased the disquiet of Flanders, of Ger- 
 many, of Italy, of Britain, at so dear a rate ? Surely 
 it would be unjust to suspect that, or any nation 
 under heaven, of so much disinterested malevolence. 
 But, as in the instance of Edom, it may justly be 
 said. The pride of their heart hath deceived them ; 
 and the men of their confederacy, the auxiliary 
 forces on which they so much relied, have only 
 brought them back to their own impoverished 
 border. The river rose with impetuosity, and 
 deluged the lands on either side ; it bore down their 
 ornaments, and their wealth, into a sea of destruc- 
 tion : and now its force and fury are spent, it runs, 
 not unsullied, within its former channel. 
 
 While we reflect upon this, and perhaps suppress 
 in our minds some of those reflections which will 
 naturally arise upon it, let us pray, that wiser and 
 more equitable, as well as more benevolent, mea- 
 sures and principles maj' prevail among the rulers 
 of the earth. And let us rejoice, that the counsels 
 of Britain, and the conduct of that generous prince 
 who presides over them, may teach the nations 
 honour and good faith. The glory of our sovereign 
 in this respect must be the joy and boast of his 
 people, far beyond what the trophies of conquest 
 could yield : and it must give a satisfaction not to 
 be paralleled hy any little momentary advantages 
 which a contrary conduct might promise, that pos- 
 terity will testify for his Britannic majesty, how 
 religiously his treaties have been observed, and his 
 engagements fulfilled ; in consequence of which his 
 throne has stood firm against all efforts to shake it, 
 supported by the grateful affection of a free people, 
 supported, above all, by the omnipotent Guardian 
 of justice and truth. 
 
 V. Let the scenes through which we have passed, 
 teach us to value and cultivate peace at home. 
 
 The public virtues of a prince take off very much 
 fron» the merit of loyalty ; and in an assembly like 
 this I need not urge, how much those of ours would 
 increase the infamy of disaffection. May they who 
 need such kind of lessons more, reflect how sadly 
 our dissensions at home have weakened our strength 
 and our importance abroad. Taught by what the 
 common interest has suffered by them, let us exert 
 the utmost influence of our examples, our persua- 
 sions, and our prayers, to unite all around us in 
 attachment to our illustrious king and his family, 
 and in unfeigned love to each other. And O that 
 he, whose powerful influence alone can cfl'cct it, 
 would so subdue every unkind suspicion and un- 
 friendly prejudice, as to promote our civil and 
 ecclesiastical union in degrees which have been 
 hitherto unknown ! A civil and political union 
 seems so easy under a government like ours, that 
 one would wonder any should oppose it, who have 
 not some unnatural antipathy to liberty and pros- 
 
9I(> 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 perity, or whose desperate circumstances and cha- 
 lactors do not apparently ^ive tlicni an interest in 
 tlic confusion of the public. In religious alVairs, 
 mistaken principles conscientiously admitted and 
 retained may create mutual difheulties, which may 
 embarrass the most faithful and aflcctionate coun- 
 sellors of peace ; not to say, how far secular 
 interest may, in some cases, increase the embar- 
 rassment. But let us humbly look up to that 
 universally acknowledged, but alas, almost as uni- 
 versally neglected. Head of the church, to whose 
 all-healing energy no evils are incurable; that he 
 may dilfusc tJiosc gentle but powerful influences of 
 the spirit of love, which may eflcctually prevent 
 our reviling or suspecting, our judging and despis- 
 ing, each other. As for us, while under an unwill- 
 ing necessity of continuing separate from our 
 brethren, may we use, thankful, peaceful, and un- 
 envied, the liberty which the laws of God and man 
 allow ! and may growing experience more fully 
 teach protestants of every denomination, how good 
 and pleasant it is for brethren, though perhaps in 
 different habits and assemblies, to dw ell together in 
 unity ; how much beauty, and pleasure, and 
 strength, arc added to the community, when it is 
 cemented by such bonds ! Which leads me to a 
 yet more extensive reflection : 
 
 VI. Let what has passed, teach us to conduct our- 
 selves, and all under our influence, by such rules 
 of prudence and virtue, as may have a natural ten- 
 dency to increase our national strength. 
 
 I would not cloud the festivity of a day like this, 
 by any thing which might appear an inauspicious 
 insinuation as to the peace so lately established : 
 may it be as lasting as it is welcome to any who are 
 concerned in it ; and may Providence give our chil- 
 dren's children to rejoice in its happy consequences ! 
 But we know, that all human affairs are uncertain ; 
 and it cannot easily be forgotten, that the peace with 
 France towards the end of King William's reign, 
 and that with Spain towards the end of Queen 
 Anne's, did neither of them continue seven years. 
 It is liowever evident, that nothing will tend more 
 to perpetuate this pacification, than our being so 
 provided against a contrary event, that none of our 
 neighbours may find it their interest, if by a fatal 
 relapse it should be their inclination, to dis- 
 turb us. 
 
 There are natural and political precautions to be 
 taken for this purpose, which will undoubtedly be 
 the care of our governors, and concerning the par- 
 ticulars of which none but they who have the 
 management of public affairs can competently 
 judge : but there are others, and those on the whole 
 not less important, which are of such a nature, as 
 well becomes the teachers of religion to recommend 
 and enforce ; I mean, the cultivating those moral 
 dispositions, without which we may venture to say, 
 
 that none other can have a sufficient efficacy for the 
 general safety. 
 
 And here no thought more readily occurs, than 
 the necessity of endeavouring to curb that taste for 
 luxury and pleasurable expense, which has done 
 so much to enervate, disgrace, and impoverish us. 
 One would imagine, that the degree to which our 
 finances must necessarily have been exhausted 
 during so long and expensive a war, should enforce 
 a prudent frugality on all who have any regard for 
 the public good. But instead of this, were we to 
 judge from the glaring objects which every where 
 strike us, a considerate man would be tempted to 
 suspect, that the whole nation, if it acted on any 
 scheme at all, was fallen into the unhappy artifice 
 whereby so many particular persons have been un- 
 done ; I mean, thnt ol" fancying a credit may be 
 established among their neighbours, by making a 
 gay figure, when there is least to support it. True 
 prudence would certainly teach us to endeavour to 
 retrieve our affairs, while there is a possibility of 
 doing it, by imposing on ourselves those sumptuary 
 laws, (if I may be allowed the expression,) which 
 the indulgence of our superiors spare us ; that a 
 vain parade, and an excessive delicacy, in the arti- 
 cles of food and dress, of furniture and equipage, 
 may not melt down our spirits, and increase our 
 necessities, and so make us the more accessible to 
 corruption, the more averse to those labours and 
 dangers, which, if we know not now resolutely to 
 face, we shall in consequence of that be forced to 
 meet, and perhaps the sooner when we turn our 
 backs upon an enemy to avoid them. 
 
 Permit me further to observe, of how great im- 
 portance it is, that a wise and steady care be taken 
 in the education of youth, that they may be trained 
 up in the way in which they should go ; a care to 
 form them betimes to strenuous resolution and in- 
 dustry, to activity and self-denial, to reverence for 
 laws, and obedience to just and equitable govern- 
 ment, and in a word, to every generous sentiment 
 with regard to the public good and the liberty of 
 their country ; that they may take an honest plea- 
 sure and pride (if I may be permitted to say it) in 
 sacrificing to that every personal interest which may 
 seem to oppose it. The more elevated and distin- 
 guished the station of any one in question may be, 
 the more important will these precautions be found, 
 and the more solicitously should such principles be 
 inculcated : but even in lower life this care is neces- 
 sary ; that if those whose prerogative it is to set the 
 fashion should fail, as amidst their strong tempta- 
 tions they so generally do, all may not be carried 
 away by the torrent. 
 
 The like considerations call us to exert ourselves 
 for the execution of those wholesome laws, whicli 
 arc enacted for the suppression of profaneness and 
 vice, but which are so frequently violated, and 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 !>47 
 
 audaciously insulted. Associations of worthy and 
 public-spirited men are in this view very de- 
 sirable; especially for restraining that licentious- 
 ness, which if not carried into an army, is so fre- 
 quently brought out of it, even where it has in the 
 main been well disciplined ; and which in civil life, 
 to which disbanded soldiers must return, is preg- 
 nant with many grievous and fatal consequences. 
 
 I might enlarge here ; but these are hints of 
 advice, easily suggested by one destitute of all 
 religion, and which no prudent atheist would op- 
 pose or neglect. It becomes the servants of the 
 living God, the ministers of the everlasting gospel, 
 to lead your thoughts much further on such an 
 occasion : I must therefore add, 
 
 VII. Let us all be engaged by the survey we 
 have been taking, to repose ourselves on God, and 
 to seek his protection and favour in the way he has 
 graciously appointed. 
 
 We well know him to be the great disposer of all 
 events, who speaks at pleasure, with an efficacious 
 voice, concerning a nation, as well as a family, to 
 plant or pluck up, to build or destroy it. Our 
 highest wisdom must therefore consist in securing 
 his favour, by a most grateful reception of his 
 gospel, and a faithful and constant compliance 
 with its great and blessed design. And indeed it 
 is, as the apostle insinuates, absolutely necessary, 
 that virtue should be grafted on faith in order to 
 its flourishing. Permit me therefore this day, 
 solemnly to renew the exhortation I have so often 
 given you, that you submit to the authority of the 
 word, and of the Son of God, and that you endea- 
 vour religiously to conform yourselves to the Chris- 
 tian institution ; acting as in the presence of that 
 Holy Majesty of heaven, who registers all our 
 actions, and penetrates our hearts ; feeling at all 
 times the deepest and most aflcctionatc sense of your 
 infinite obligations to redeeming grace ; and con- 
 sidering yourselves as continually on the borders of 
 an eternal state, Avherc happiness or misery awaits 
 you complete and perpetual. TJiese are motives and 
 considerations, suited to produce that consistency, 
 that uniformity, that elevation of goodness, which 
 must never be expected on any other foundation. 
 
 And what glorious hopes might wc not form for 
 onr dear country, if sentiments like these were 
 generally to prevail ! " O Britain, thou nation 
 saved and favoured of the Lord ! If God hath so 
 powerfully rescued thee again and again, plunged 
 as thou art into so many excesses and enormities ; 
 if his arm has been thus made bare in thy defence, 
 whilst many who boast the most ancient hereditary 
 honours, or whose achievements for their country's 
 good have ennobled their line, deem it no stain to 
 their greatness, to show their contempt of religion, 
 and to teach every rank below them, to profane his 
 sabbaths, to neglect his ordinances, or to affront 
 3 p 2 
 
 them yet more by their irreverent attendance, and 
 by every other method to dishonour and outrage 
 that tremendous name, which is the awe of heaven, 
 and the terror of hell ; — if he not only spare, but by 
 signal interpositions deliver and bless thee, while 
 profaneness and riot walk through thy villages and 
 cities uncontrolled, and almost unreproved too; 
 and so many of thy watchmen themselves sleep 
 over their charge, where they do not by false prin- 
 ciples or scandalous examples cause their people 
 to err,— what mightest thou not expect were a 
 general reformation to prevail ! What prosperity, 
 what felicity would not attend thee, if thy princes 
 and thy nobles appeared indeed to reverence the 
 God of heaven ; if his sabbaths were religiously 
 observed, his name honoured, his worship devoutly 
 celebrated, in the family as well as in the sanc- 
 tuary ; if pastors, to the strength of argument and 
 the fervour of exhortation, publicly and from house 
 to house, added the sanction of a blameless, an 
 holy, and edifying example ; and in consequence 
 of this there were a general solicitude in those 
 under their ministry, however they varied in opin- 
 ions and in forms, to unite in adorning the doctrine 
 of God their Saviour in all things !" 
 
 Surely the consequence must be, that a nation 
 thus truly Christian, though far less distinguished 
 by natural advantages than ours, would appear at 
 once amiable and awful ; or, in Solomon's sublime 
 language, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and 
 terrible as an army with banners. Our neighbours 
 would revere us ; our God would protect us, and 
 shower down his blessings upon us ; the blessings 
 of peace and plenty ; which being traced up to their 
 true source, being also moderately used, and equi- 
 tably and generously distributed to those that were 
 real and proper objects of compassion, would be 
 far sweeter than ever. • When our counsellors were 
 faithful, and knew no interest of their own to be 
 compared with that of the public ; when our lead- 
 ers, like that excellent man who so lately fell in 
 our defence,* feared to sin, but not to die ; and 
 there was in the breast of every soldier a calm resig- 
 nation to the will of God, a noble ambition of se- 
 curing his approbation, a well grounded confidence 
 in his favour, whether for time or eternity ; what 
 could we reasonably dread ? Surely, bad as the 
 world is, the enemies of such a people would be 
 few; and God, their guardian, would make such 
 enemies to know, that he who touched them touched 
 the apple of his eye. 
 
 Whose heart does not kindle at such a repre- 
 sentation? Who that loves his country would not 
 form the most ardent wishes, that this may be its 
 character and its felicity ? May the repose God 
 hath been pleased to give us be subservient to this 
 blessed end ! and now that our public counsellors 
 
 ♦ See (;<iloiiel Gardinut'K Life, ? M. 
 
918 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 arc eased of many biullicns, which the cxiffciices 
 and operations of the war must occasion, may tiicir 
 tliou};hts be directed to the happiest measures, 
 whereby immoralities may be further curbed, and 
 pure, genuine, catliolic Christianity most effect- 
 ually promoted and established amonj; us! And 
 may they who stand in the first rank of the minis- 
 ters of Christ, be animated to lead the way, with a 
 courage, mai^nanimity. and zeal, which may trans- 
 mit their names with "lory to the remotest ages, and 
 through the grace of the gospel entitle them to 
 more distinguished honours in the church above, 
 than any constitution or prince upon earth can 
 confer ! 
 
 To conclude all, with the mention of what in this 
 connexion may easily present itsvlf to our mind, 
 
 VIII. Let the occasion of this day's assembly 
 lead our thoughts to that universal peace of the 
 church, which we expect in the latter day, and to 
 the complete peace of the heavenly world. 
 
 How delightful is it to think, that whatever 
 blemishes we for the present lament in churches, 
 whatever desolations in states and kingdoms, there 
 is a time approaching when all shall be remedied ; 
 a glorious, long expected time, for tlie manifesta- 
 tion of which the whole creation seems to travail 
 and be in pain ; when the earth shall be filled with 
 the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the 
 channel of the sea, and the world shall learn by 
 happy experience, what Christianity is, and what 
 the iuvaluablc blessings with which it is pregnant. 
 Let us cheer our hearts with tlie lovely and glorious 
 prospect of that day of grand and final pacification, 
 when, once for all, those who have been armed for 
 the destruction of each other, shall beat their swords 
 into plough-shares, and their spears into pruning- 
 hooks ; when nation shall not lift up sword against 
 nation, neither shall they learn war any more, hav- 
 ing so cordially learned the gospel of peace. Glorious 
 period, when the religion of Jesus shall universally 
 prevail over the whole human race, and disarm 
 their fierce passions, and regulate tlieir exorbitant 
 desires, and inspire the most benevolent and gene- 
 rous sentiments ! When men shall regard their 
 fellow-men of all nations as their brethren, and de- 
 trlre to see all around them as happy as themselves ; 
 forgetting, with a nobleness of heart which nothing 
 but the gospel of Christ can inspire, every personal, 
 yea, I will add, every national, interest, which ap- 
 pears inconsistent with the happiness of the whole 
 human species ! 
 
 But who shall live when God doth this? when 
 this great miracle sliall close the scene of wonders, 
 which the Christian revelation has opened ? Pro- 
 bably a distant generation, by whom our names 
 shall be forgotten, though tlic event itself be as 
 certain as the divine oracles can render it. We 
 will, at least, with the first-fruits of a temper which 
 
 shall tlien so universally prevail, rejoice in the ex- 
 pected happiness of tliose who shall not so much as 
 know that we ever existed. 
 
 And if some regard to personal engagements 
 will, as it is so natural and so just, mingle them- 
 selves with sentiments like these, let me, on this 
 good occasion, call your thoughts to the much 
 nearer and more important prospects of the eternal 
 world ; i)rospccts which, I hope, are familiar to the 
 niinds of many among us, and to which so many 
 sad spectacles as daily present themselves here, 
 concur to lead us. It is painful to a truly benevo- 
 lent spirit, especially to one who considers the 
 remoter consequences of things, to look round on 
 what is generally the slate of the present world, 
 and to look back on the history of mankind in pre- 
 ceding times, ancient or modern. There is no 
 branch of science with respect to which it may be 
 so truly said. He who increaseth knowledge, in- 
 creaseth sorrow in proportion to it. In this respect, 
 they seem to have the greafest advantage, who 
 know only the story of their own personal and do- 
 mestic afflictions, and tho.se of a little circle of near 
 neighbours. Yet so is our nature constituted, that 
 we delight and v. ish to know how it fares, and has 
 fared, w ith others, though at the expense of a sad 
 sympathy : but it is most comfortable to reflect, 
 that, where God has given such a sensibility of 
 heart, founded on true principles of piety and 
 charity, he hath appointed, that the soul in which 
 it dwells should not long inherit the infirmities and 
 sorrows of human llesh, nor multiply years in the 
 provinces of calamity and misery. He did not 
 send those heaven-born graces down to earth, 
 merely to teach men to weep the tears of humanity, 
 though they have their intermingled sweetness too. 
 Unfeigned universal love shall infallibly he the 
 source of joy. Yet a little while, and God will 
 draw a veil over all these mournful spectacles; or 
 ratlicr, he will raise us beyond the view of them, to 
 a high and serene situation, from whence the pene- 
 trating eye shall command an ample prospect, be- 
 yond the present stretch even of thought, and 
 nothing shall strike it but sights of bliss. 
 
 In the mean time, let our eyes be lifted up to- 
 wards heaven, in humble hope, and in fervent 
 prayer, for the public prosperity, for the prevalency 
 of true Christianity in the whole world, especially 
 in our own country ; and above all, (as it is that in 
 which we are first and most intimately concerned,) 
 for its prevalency in our own hearts ; that we may 
 steadily retain it, that we may faithfully practise 
 it, that we may daily advance in our conformity to 
 it. So shall we understand the loving-kindness of 
 tlic Lord, in the general conduct of present affairs ; 
 and though there may be mysteries of Providence 
 which we cannot particularly explain, shall assur- 
 edly believe, that all the paths of it are mercy and 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 949 
 
 tiuth^and find the truest and the securest peace in 
 our passage to everlasting joy. Amen. 
 
 A HYMN, 
 
 Sung after the Sermon, to the Tune of the Old Fiftieth Psalm. 
 I. 
 
 Now let our songs address the God of peace, 
 Who bids the tumult of the battle cease. 
 The pointed spears to pruning-hooks he bends, 
 "And the broad faulchion in the plough-share ends." 
 His powerful word unites contending nations 
 In kind embrace and friendly salutations. 
 II. 
 
 Britain, adore the guardian of thy state ; 
 Who high on his celestial throne elate, 
 Still watchful o'er thy safety and repose, 
 Frowned on the counsels of thy haughtiest foes : 
 Thy coasts secured from every dire invasion 
 Of fire and sword, and spreading desolation. 
 III. 
 
 When rebel-bands with desperate madness joined. 
 He wafted o'er deliverance with his wind ; 
 
 Drove back the tide that deluged half our land. 
 And curbed their fury with his mightier hand : 
 Till dreadful slaughter and the last confusion 
 Taught those audacious sinners their delusion. 
 IV. 
 
 He gave our fleets to triumph o'er the main. 
 And scatter terrors cross wide ocean's plain ; 
 Opposing leaders trembled at the sight, 
 Nor found their safety in tlie attempted flight : 
 Tauglit by their bonds, how vainly they pretended 
 Those to distress whom Israel's God defended. 
 V. 
 
 Fierce storms were summoned up in Britain's aid. 
 And meagre famine hostile lands o'erspread : 
 By sufferings bowed, their conquests they release. 
 Nor scorn the overtures of equal peace. 
 
 Contending powers congratulate the blessing, 
 Joint hymns of gratitude to Heaven addressing. 
 VI. 
 
 While we beneath our vines and fig-trees sit, 
 Or thus within thy sacred temples meet ; 
 Accept, great God, the tribute of our song. 
 And all the mercies of this day prolong ! 
 
 Then spread thy peaceful w ord thro' every nation. 
 That all the earth may hail thy great salvation. 
 
 SERMON XVITI. 
 
 deliv^;rance out of the hands of our enemies urged as 
 
 A MOTIVE TO obedience. ^ 
 
 Being the substance of two Sermons, preached at Northampton, February 9, 1745-6, on occasion of the 
 precipitate jliyht of the Rebels from Stirling a few days before. 
 
 Luke i. 74, 75. 
 
 That he would grant unto us, that we, being delivered 
 out of the hand of our enemies, might serve him 
 without fear, in holiness and righteousness before 
 him, all the days of our life. 
 
 I SHOULD think myself inexcusable, if, after hav- 
 ing publicly addressed you with so many admoni- 
 tions, and so many encouragements, through the 
 whole period of our late public alarms, I should be 
 silent as to the favourable turn which our affairs 
 seem now to be taking ; and did not lead you to 
 greet these first openings of deliverance which God 
 is giving us, with your earliest hymns of grateful 
 praise. Far be it from any of us to resemble the 
 nine lepers, who though they had been so loud in 
 their erics for mercy under their aflliction as to be 
 
 heard afar off, yet having received their cure re- 
 turned not to give glory to God. I am indeed 
 sensible, that our deliverance is not yet complete. 
 Though our enemies are fled w ith so much precipi- 
 tation before our forces, led on by that heroic prince 
 whom Providence has raised so gloriously to com- 
 mand them, we are not as yet putting off our 
 harness. But we have reason to hope, that the end 
 of girding it on is in a great measure answered ; and 
 it is certain that a becoming acknowledgment of 
 these beginnings of mercy, will be the most pro- 
 bable mejns to secure the full accomplishment of 
 our hopes. I have therefore chosen the words be- 
 fore us, with a particular view to this great and 
 happy event; and it is obvious, that they will 
 naturally lead me into suitable and important 
 reflections upon it. 
 You will easily recollect, that they are part of tliat 
 
060 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 ocli'bratod so»g. in which Zacharias, tlie fatlier of 
 John the Baptist, utterid iiis joys and his iiopcs on 
 the birth of siicli a son, and in which he employed 
 and consecrated the first accents of his recovered 
 speech. This venerable priest, under the inllu- 
 cnec of tlie prophetic spirit, blesses the God of 
 Israel, who liad raised up a horn of salvation, (that 
 is, who was just raising a powerful Saviour,) for 
 them, in the house of his servant David ; whose 
 oftice and jjlory it should be, to perform the mercy 
 promised to their fathers, the substance of which 
 he comprehends in the words of my text ; and thus 
 to complete what he had so often engaged in efl'ect, 
 though not in express words, tliat Israel under his 
 atispicious government, being delivered out of the 
 hands of their enemies, and of all them that haled 
 them, should serve him without fear, in a steady 
 course of holiness and righteousness before him. 
 
 I w ill not take upon me to determine the exact 
 idea, which Zacharias himself had to these words ; 
 whether he meant to refer to that great salvation 
 from our spiritual enemies, which Christ gives, and 
 to those influences of his Spirit on tlic hearts of his 
 people, whereby they are elVectually engaged to a 
 persevering course of holiness and righteousness ; 
 or whether he might have his eye to some expected 
 conquest over that Gentile power, by which Israel 
 was then held in subjection, and to a temporal 
 kingdom to be established in conseciuence of it, in 
 which righteousness should reign in a more remark- 
 able manner, than it had ever before done among 
 the children of men. He, like others of the pro- 
 phets, after having delivered their divine oracles, 
 might have need of searching what the Spirit of 
 Christ did particularly signify therein. But it is 
 evident, that whether we take it in the one or the 
 other of these views, it will afford us a just founda- 
 tion for two remarks, most suitable to our present 
 circumstances: — that to be delivered out of the 
 hands of our enemies is a great favour of Divine 
 Providence ; — and that it loudly calls for a course 
 of steady and cheerful obedience to God as our 
 great Benefactor. 
 
 It will, therefore, be very agreeable to the general 
 sentiments expressed in these words, that I should, 
 
 First, Endeavour to make you sensible of the 
 greatness of this deliverance, which God has now 
 granted us out of the hands of our enemies. And, 
 
 Secondly, Represent and enforce that return, 
 which he most reasonably demands from us, and 
 to which the text may naturally direct our thoughts. 
 
 Such representations are undoubtedly necessary : 
 I pray God they may in this instance be as eflectual 
 as they are sincere. I am. 
 
 First, To endeavour to make you sensible of the 
 greatness of this deliverance, which God has now 
 granted us, by the panic with which he seems to 
 have struck the leaders and abettors of that unnatu- 
 
 ral rebellion, which he hath permitted to arise 
 amongst us ; that so our hearts may be disposed to 
 those returns of gratitude w liieh he demands. 
 
 Now to this purpose I shall consider it, — first, in 
 a more general view ; — and then in some particular 
 cireunistanees, which may further heighten our 
 grateful sense of it. 
 
 I. I would consider the deliverance out of the 
 hands of our enemies, which God is now opening 
 upon us, in a more general view. 
 
 Here I shall take a view of it in general, with 
 regard to the aspect which it has — upon our sub- 
 stance, — our liberties, — our religion, — and our pos- 
 terity. And each view w ill convince us of its im- 
 portance, and do its part towards awakening our 
 gratitude. 
 
 To make you more sensible of this, let me now 
 lead you to imagine, (though the imagination is 
 painful and shocking,) what must have been our 
 case, if the progress of the rebellious arms of our 
 enemies had been carried on with a rapidity, like 
 that which they at first boasted ; if they had been 
 supported by powerful succours from abroad; and 
 if, according to their vain hopes, considerable num- 
 bers from the southern part of our island had joined 
 them ; so that they had marched on to our capital, 
 and taken possession of it, either destroying or 
 driving away that illustrious prince whom God has 
 set over us, and those numerous branches of his 
 royal family around him, whom we have so long 
 beheld with delight as the pledges of peace and 
 happiness to succeeding generations. Consider, how 
 our possessions and liberties, our religion and 
 posterity, would have been affected by such an 
 event; and then judge, what an aspect our de- 
 liverance has upon each. 
 
 1. As to our worldly substance. 
 
 This, among so many dearer names, may seem 
 less worthy of our mention. A generous and manly 
 spirit will indeed bear the diminution of it with a 
 calm steadiness ; and the true Christian will be 
 conscious of a better and more enduring substance, 
 laid up beyond the reach of violence and rapine. 
 Yet some value is justly to be set on what we 
 here possess, as the gift of Providence, and as that 
 by which we are enabled, not only to make some 
 comfortable provision for those whom God has 
 committed to our immediate care, but likewise to 
 do good to many others, by a variety of humane 
 and charitable actions, which may greatly adorn 
 our religious profession. And whether our wealth 
 be the acquisition of our own industry, or have de- 
 scended to us by inheritance from our fathers, there 
 is something in each of these considerations, which 
 makes the loss of it grievous ; how gradually soever 
 it may be impaired, and though no circumstance of 
 external violence deprive us of it, but we seem 
 (according to the remarkable expression of the pro- 
 
OCCASIONAL sermons: 
 
 951 
 
 pbet) to put our money into a bag with holes. 
 Much more grievous then must it be, to be stripped 
 on a sudden, and above all, in such a way ; to see our 
 enemies possessed of what we just before called our 
 own, and perhaps taking a malicious pleasure, not 
 only to use, but to destroy it before our eyes. 
 
 The great Author of our nature, who most fully 
 knows its frame, does sometimes mention this 
 among the saddest consequences of invasion and 
 conquest. So the distress and vexation of it is 
 pathetically represented, in the message he sent 
 to Israel by Moses : Thine ox shall be slain before 
 thine eyes, and thou shalt not eat thereof; thine 
 ass (the usual beast of burthen among them, and 
 answering to our ordinary horses) shall be vio- 
 lently taken away before thy face, and shall not be 
 restored to thee : thy sheep shall be given to thine 
 enemies, and thou shalt have none to rescue them : 
 the fruit of thy land, and all thy labours, shall a 
 nation which thou knowest not eat up : so that 
 thou shalt be mad, for the sight of thine eyes which 
 thou shalt see. 
 
 While our enemies have been traversing the 
 northern part of our island, and penetrating even 
 to its centre, thousands have known the literal 
 accomplishment of these words. And I hope we 
 shall never forget that the cup was just passing to 
 us : so that had not God, and that brave prince 
 whom he made the instrument of our deliverance, 
 turned them back, they had in a few hours entered 
 our houses with haughty violence: and had we 
 staid till they arrived there, we might have beheld 
 our provisions greedily devoured, yea, profusely 
 wasted ; perhaps, too, had we not been sulBciently 
 obsequious to these detestable inmates, our furni- 
 ture wantonly destroyed ; our houses plundered ; 
 our very garments stripped off ; and, beyond all 
 peradventure, heavy contributions levied, the amount 
 of which, in one day, might have been much greater 
 than the necessary taxes which the legislature, 
 thougli with reluctance, are compelled, for tlic 
 public safety, to demand ; or than charity to the 
 families of those who are gone out to fight our 
 battlm inclines us voluntarily to advance for their 
 support. This might have been our fate in their 
 march towards our capital ; and in a more extreme 
 degree, in their return. And when this tumultuous 
 scene had been over, what could we have expected 
 but mucli heavier exactions than even tiie present 
 distress requires '. with this painful diflcrence, that 
 instead of advancing our money for the assistance 
 of those who guard and defend us, it must then 
 have been given as a reward for our oppressors and 
 spoilers; I had almost said, as a fee to our execu- 
 tioners. When, therefore, you enter your peaceful 
 habitations, when you sit down to your plentiful 
 tables, and repose yourselves as under your own 
 vines and fig-trees, remember to whom you owe it. 
 
 that you can call them your own, and be thankful 
 for this deliverance out of the hands of your ene- 
 mies : a deliverance which will be felt in proportion 
 to the degree in which it is considered ; and which 
 we are next to view, 
 
 2. In the aspect which it bears on our liberties. 
 
 As bondage renders plenty and magnitieenee 
 tasteless to a generous spirit ; so poverty itself puts 
 on a cheerful smile under the blessings of liberty, 
 which makes, if I may allude to the words of David, 
 a little that a freeman hath, better than the abun- 
 dance of many slaves. Were liberty the portion of 
 the whole human race, (and would to God that it 
 were,) each of them should prize it as, next to 
 religion, his choicest treasure. But it is well 
 known, that, by the proud usurpation of princes or 
 priests, and generally by their collusive combina- 
 tion to support the tyranny of each other, it has 
 been almost entirely banished from the continent, 
 and seems, if not to have sought its last refuge, at 
 least to have fixed its favourite abode, in tlic British 
 dominions ; where it now reigns, in the person of 
 our gracious sovereign, as its guardian genius, who 
 understands the rights and the honours of royalty 
 so well, as to make it his chief glory to be so. It is 
 here, if I may be permitted so to speak, the lav/ that 
 rules supreme ; and the greatest and best of our 
 princes most justly esteem it the noblest point of 
 their ambition, to be its protectors and vicegerents : 
 as it is indeed a glorious ambition, to defend a 
 system of wise and equitable laws, which the in- 
 habitants of Britain, from age to age, in their own 
 persons, or by their representatives, have chosen to 
 impose on themselves and their posterity, for their 
 common security and happiness. — And could we 
 have borne to see them insolently trampled under 
 foot, and arbitrary will established in their stead? 
 I hope we could not have endured it ; while heaven 
 had left us any force to oppose it ; but that, 
 according to the animated expression of a cele- 
 brated writer, " we should rather have chosen to 
 die the last of British freemen, than to live the 
 first of British slaves." Yet what but slavery could 
 we have expected, had our throne been filled by 
 one trained up in the oppressive maxims of the 
 French and the Roman courts? who had also so many 
 arrears to discharge, that it is absolutely impossible 
 he should have done it without impoverishing us to 
 a degree which only a nation of slaves could have 
 submitted to : for surely we must have been bound, 
 before we could have permitted ourselves to have 
 been stripped so bare. 
 
 Great reason indeed have we to believe, notwith- 
 standing all his empty and absurd pretences " of 
 establishing us in the possession of what we never 
 lost,"* that if ever we should be so unhappy as to 
 
 * See that iiicoinparnlile discnursc, entitled, The Ocrasioiial Writer; 
 or an Answer to tlie Pretender's Second Manifesto, &c. 
 
932 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 see (lie Prctciuler possessed of the power he so un- 
 reasonably claims, the manner of our king would 
 be like wluU Samuel so strongly deseribes to the 
 men of Israel ; by whom (he tells them) their 
 children would be abused, niul their estates taken 
 away, or the produet of them subjeetcd to such im- 
 positions, that they who retained the titulary right 
 to thcni, would be little better than tenants and 
 servants to their haughty monarch. Had we, like 
 the Israelites, ourselves concurred in making such 
 a king, we might like them have retisonably ex- 
 pected, that when we had cried out under this 
 load of oppression, the Lord should not have 
 heard us. 
 
 Let us always remember, that it is our indis- 
 pensable duty, to exert ourselves to the utmost to 
 prevent so fatal a cliange in our constitution : and 
 let us bless God every day of our lives, tliat tliey 
 who were weak or wicked enough to attempt it, 
 have found themselves unable to perform their en- 
 terprise ; and that, through the special care of 
 Divine Providence, our soul is escaped as a bird 
 out of the snare of the fow lers, that the snare which 
 would have hampered us, not only to our vexation, 
 but to our destruction, is happily broken, and we 
 are escaped free and unhurt. A simile, which in 
 this application of it will appear more evidently 
 just, when we survey our deliverance, 
 
 3. In the aspect which it has upon our religion. 
 
 If religion be any thing at all significant to a 
 man, it is beyond all comparison more than every 
 thing else. A nation does not easily change its 
 gods, be they what they will ; and to have merely 
 some particular forms of a religion, in the main 
 acknowledged to be true, obtruded contrary to a 
 man's conscience, is an insufferable evil. What 
 then must it be, to have our religion violently torn 
 away from us, so far as it can be torn away ; to see 
 it at least injured, oppressed, and insulted, if not 
 immediately borne down and extirpated ? That 
 pure, holy, and perfect religion, which Christ and 
 his apostles planted upon earth ; and which our 
 pious forefathers have delivered down to us, in all 
 its evidence, with such faithful care, sealed with 
 the blood of so many martyrs and confessors ! — To 
 exchange this, (or to be urged at length by penal, 
 perhaps by sanguinary, laws, to exchange it,) for so 
 erroneous and superstitious, so absurd and idola- 
 trous, a heap of tenets, ceremonies, and usages, that 
 it seems almost profaning the word to call it a reli- 
 gion ; to give up our Uibles to tlie flames ; to lay 
 aside this rational and devout manner of worship- 
 ping God (as we assuredly believe) in the most 
 Scriptural and acceptable way, for the unintelli- 
 gible jargon of a mass ; to bow down to images, as 
 if we had been, trained up in the most stupid hea- 
 thenism ; and to adore a piece of bread as the 
 Saviour of the world ! How much is the thought 
 
 worse than death ! Yea, how beautiful must death 
 appear, as met in opposition to such a change ! 
 
 And is the supposition I am now making at all 
 unnatural .' We will make all the mo^t candid 
 allowances ; we will suppose the disposition of all 
 the branches of the aspiring family, which urges its 
 divine right to rule us, to be ever so gentle ; we 
 will grant, (what indeed I very believe,) that many 
 who have been brt d up in popery, would abhor the 
 cruelties of persecution, and grieve to see theii 
 protestant neighbours, among whom many of them 
 have lived so long unmolested, perishing in jails, 
 or expiring in flames. Yet were that corruption of 
 Christianity restored amongst us, it would not be 
 in their power to prevent it. The iniquity is esta- 
 blished by a law ; and (as several excellent writers 
 have of late very seasonably demonstrated from 
 the most authentic authority*) persecution is grown 
 into the very vitals of their religion, and become 
 not only an appendix to it, but an essential part of 
 it. And indeed its absurdities are so great, that it 
 is didicult to imagine, how it could subsist, if it 
 were not thus supported. At least, we evidently 
 see this to be fact, that wherever popery has pre- 
 vailed, such methods have been used ; and if any 
 protestant churches remain within its dark domains, 
 it is plainly for want of power to destroy them: for 
 in mnny places we see, they have been barbarously 
 exterminated, where every consideration of honour 
 and gratitude, of public faith and national interest, 
 must have loudly demanded, that they should be 
 tolerated and sheltered. 
 
 The present deliverance therefore strongly calls 
 upon us, in testimony of the gratitude we owe unto 
 the Lord our God, to enter into his gates with 
 thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise ; since 
 we have so much reason to imagine, that if he had 
 not put a stop to their designs, our enemies would 
 have been advancing with hasty steps, to shot up 
 those gates, and to make those courts desolate, or, 
 (which is far worse than desolation,) to fill them 
 with idolatrous altars. And if any should suggest, 
 that " common policy, and indeed necessity, might 
 have obliged them, even if they had been conquer- 
 ors, to proceed by slow degrees in their attempts to 
 compass a design of this nature ;" I might answer, 
 that no consideration of prudence can curb the 
 sallies of blind zeal, which often calls it piety to set 
 wisdom at defiance. I might also plead, that the 
 first attempts of this kind must be grievous (o every 
 good man ; and especially to such as have penetra- 
 tion enough to see whither those attcuipls would 
 naturally lead. And this remark will appear to 
 us with a great increase of weight, when we con- 
 sider, 
 
 « See the Bishop of Oxford's excellent sermon on oerasioii of tlie 
 rebellion ; Md that lively and nsefiil pami.hitt, entiiled, Great Iln- 
 taiii's Memorial against Fopery and the Pretender. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 953 
 
 4. The happy aspect which this deliverance 
 M'ears, with respect to our posterity. 
 
 Should we suppose it possible, that we ourselves, 
 while groaning under so many injuries and oppres- 
 sions, might have been permitted to alleviate our 
 sorrows, by attending divine ordinances in a pure 
 and regular administration of them; yet ecclesias- 
 tical tyranny, the inseparable companion of civil, 
 might have grown strong enough to have prohibited 
 that attendance in the days of our children. Should 
 the tier}' trial come sooner, as it not improbably 
 might, I am well persuaded, that religion, degene- 
 rate as the present age is, would not want its mar- 
 tyrs, of various denominations, ages, and circum- 
 stances. There are undoubtedly pastors who would 
 lead on their flocks to this glorious combat, and 
 multitudes of private Christians who would bravely 
 follow, to defend the cause of truth and piety at the 
 stake, when tliey could no longer defend it in the 
 field, and to honour it wiih their blood, though un- 
 able to rescue it. But our dear ofispring in the 
 tender scenes of childhood and infancy, what would 
 they do ? Into whose hands would their education 
 fall ? How easily might their unexperienced eyes 
 be struck and enchanted with the vain glitter of su- 
 perstitious worsliip, in a ceremonial which looks as 
 if it were chiefly intended to amuse children! How 
 easily miglit their weak minds be seduced hy the 
 sophistry of error, or their soft hearts intimidated 
 by the threatenings of cruelty ! Yet all would most 
 assuredly be tried upon them. And perhaps, be- 
 fore the parents themselves were driven away or 
 destroyed, or their hearts broken by other calami- 
 ties, the inhumanity so lately practised in France 
 might be renewed in Britain. Children miglit be 
 forced out of their parents' hands, to be educated in 
 what is so unjustly called the catholic faith, and 
 those words of the Mosaic threatening might in a 
 dreadful sense be fulfilled with regard to them : 
 Thy sons and thy daughters shall be given to ano- 
 ther people, and thine eyes shall look, and fail with 
 longing for them all the day long ; and there shall 
 be no might in thine hand. What parent's heart 
 could bear the prospect, yea, what other humane , 
 and generous heart could bear it, and not bleed to 
 look on these innocent victims, which must on that 
 supposition so soon be devoted at idolatrous altars, 
 and pass a wretched enslaved life, amidst tempta- 
 tions arising from their very religion itself, which 
 might have .so fatal a tendency to seduce them into 
 the ways of eternal death ? 
 
 When I reflect upon all the.se particulars in their 
 connexion with each other, I am inclined to repeat 
 what I said to you in public, when this rebellion 
 first broke out : " that considering, on the whole, all 
 the probable consequences of things as to both 
 worlds, it would be better, that our whole island 
 should sink into the ocean, and all its inhabitants 
 
 perish at once in that general wreck, than it should 
 remain to be through succeeding ages the theatre 
 of such scenes, as our enemies are studying to pre- 
 pare, and labouring to introduce." This at least I 
 can most deliberately say, " that had their designs 
 succeeded, they who seemed, and who were with 
 regard to external blessings, the happiest of man- 
 kind, would have become of all others the most 
 miserable." In the sad situation I have been sup- 
 posing, the rich might envy the lot of those, who 
 had no property to lose ; — they who had been edu- 
 cated in the warmest sentiments of liberty, might 
 think those comparatively happy, to whom the weight 
 of chains was grown less sensible, by having been 
 worn from their infancy ; — and the parent of the 
 most numerous and amiable family, might rather 
 have blessed the womb that never bare, and the 
 breasts that never gave suck. Only the sacred name 
 of religion, amidst all our miseries, would still be 
 delightful : and the happy soul that has felt its 
 power, would in poverty, in servitude, in captivity, 
 or in the most immediate views of martyrdom, re- 
 joice in the unconquerable supports and glorious 
 prospects it administers. Yet still, by such a one, 
 the desolation of God's sanctuary, the slaughter of 
 his servants, the seduction of the rising generation, 
 with the apparent hazard of the protestant cause, 
 when the strength of Great Britain was not only 
 taken from it, but turned against it, would be felt 
 with the most tender agony, and make a more pain- 
 ful impression than could be apprehended even 
 from all the engines of popish cruelty. 
 
 Proportionable to the grief and terror of such a 
 prospect, is the joy of our opening deliverance, 
 when considered in these general and most import- 
 ant views. But I must not forget, that I, am to 
 remind you, 
 
 II. Of some particular circumstances, which may 
 serve further to heighten it. 
 
 Deliverance from an enemy must be acknow- 
 ledged a peculiar favour of Providence,- -when his 
 character is savage, and his rage exasperated ; — 
 when his heart has been elevated with repeated 
 success ; — when deliverance has been earnestly 
 sought by prayer and when it is at last given, in 
 a manner that renders the hand of God eminently 
 conspicuous. A few words nuiy suffice to show, 
 that each of these considerations is applicable to 
 the case before us. 
 
 All that are acquainted with the character of our 
 rebellious enemies from Lochaber, and the neigh- 
 bouring counties, know that they are numbered 
 among the fiercest and most barbarous of tlie High- 
 land clans. They have so much of the disposition 
 of banditti in their very nature, that it had been 
 (crril)le to have met a company of them in times of 
 the profoundest peace ; insomuch that their neigh- 
 bours have long been forced to set a guard on their 
 
954 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 siibslancc, lest these wrctcbes should have broke 
 in upon it, and eariieil it away : so that the words 
 of Ezekiel seem the verj' description of them ; 
 Brutisli men, skilful to destroy. And to whatever 
 distinftuished politeness our neighbours on the 
 continent, who have joined theui, may pretend, 
 there are numerous instances in which it lias ap- 
 peared in fact, that tlieir tender mercies are cruel. 
 The nearly desperate situation of tlie Pretender's 
 aflairs, of which they well knew this to be the 
 decisive crisis, might also have prompted them to a 
 severity of rage, sufficient to double all the terrors 
 of an ordinary war. The disappointment attend- 
 ing a former rebellion, M ith the death of some of 
 their near relations who fell in the cause, either by 
 the sword of battle, or by that of public justice, 
 migiit also exasperate particular persons : and the 
 supposed injuries sustained through so long a series 
 of years, by him whom they call their prince, whom 
 they have seen exiled, disowned, abjured, and out- 
 lawed, would be a more general cause of indigna- 
 tion against us ; and (so far as the views of policy 
 would admit) might very probably lead them to 
 consider the greatest extremities of military exe- 
 cution, as not only justifiable, but meritorious. 
 
 The success they had gained in the ever to be la- 
 mente 1 day of Preston pans, together with the advan- 
 tage which they seemed to have over our forces in the 
 late action at Falkirk, would naturally tend to make 
 them more insolent ; as minds so base are always 
 elated by prosperity to an outrageous kind of mad- 
 ness. At the same time, the grief into which we were 
 thrown by our repeated disappointments, (of which 
 their escape into Scotland was none of the least,) does 
 further serve to render their sudden consternation 
 and retreat at last, though their numbers are said 
 to have amounted to above nine thousand, matter of 
 more agreeable surprise, and more pleasing rellec- 
 tion. And so much the rather, as some tender 
 minds might be ready to apprehend, that Heaven 
 itself had declared against us a few days before, in 
 pouring down showers of wrath upon us in the day 
 of battle, so as to damp our fires ; thereby in effect 
 disarming us of the weapons in which we trusted, 
 and delivering our artillery into the enemies' hands. 
 A double pleasure must it be in such a circum- 
 stance, to view the appearance of a return of mercy : 
 especially. 
 
 When we see in it God's gracious answer to our 
 repeated prayers. Often have we cried to the Lord 
 in our trouble ; and he is now saving us out of our 
 distresses. After long delay, he has seasonably 
 appeared, and given us reason to own, that he hath 
 not turned away our prayer from him, nor his mercy 
 from us. Justly therefore maj' we say. We will 
 love the Lord, because he liath heard our prayer 
 and supplication ; because he hath inclined his ear 
 unto us, therefore will we cail upon him as long as 
 
 we live. And once more, the reflection and reso- 
 lution are more evidently just, 
 
 As the hand of God is so remarkably apparent in 
 the issue of this affair. Long has he seen, (and seen, 
 I doubt not, with just displeasure,) how ready we 
 are to ascribe the glory of success to ourselves, and 
 to boast, that our own right hand and arm have 
 gotten us the victory. He hath therefore (if I may 
 use the expression) been digging deep to hide pride 
 from lis ; seeming to make it the care of his provi- 
 dence to prevent such arrogance from taking place: 
 and the mercy is great, in proportion to that care. 
 To God we must surely ascribe it, that our enemies 
 did not immediately come forward on their first 
 success, w bile we were unprepared for our defence, 
 and take advantage of the terror they had spread, 
 before the arrival of our forces from abroad. To 
 him w e must ascribe it, that the politics of France 
 and Spain were so infatuated, that they did not 
 attempt to invade our coasts, in the midst of that 
 consternation which the rebel army occasioned, 
 when it was marching into the heart of our country: 
 or if the delay was owing to the damage which their 
 ships sustained in the late tempests, wc owe it to 
 the great Sovereign of the winds and seas. And to 
 his powerful inffuence, which at pleasure takes 
 away the spirit of the boldest, we may piously 
 ascribe that sudden panic which seized the host of 
 our enemies, so that (though so lately flushed witli 
 some visible advantage gained over us) they did 
 not dare to look our army in the face; but fled with 
 the utmost precipitation, destroying their aitillery, 
 and blowing up their own ammunition, though not 
 without some circumstances of treacherous cruelty 
 which have justly increased tlieir infamy. 
 
 I am sensible, there are some views in which it 
 might have appeared more desirable that they 
 should have ventured a battle, which must in all 
 human probability have proved fatal to them : but 
 on the other hand, not to insist upon the possibility 
 of another panic on our side, (which, in circum- 
 stances like those in which we then appeared, we 
 had, I hope, no just cause to apprehend,) we may 
 at least conclude, that many among them would 
 have sold their lives dear when grown desperate, 
 and have fought in the bitterness of their hearts. 
 Now surely we must allow, that, after the deplor- 
 able losses we have already sustained since the war 
 and the rebellion began, it is a very favourable 
 circumstance, that the foe was defeated without a 
 combat ; and especially at a time, when every brave 
 soldier, and much more every valiant and expe- 
 rienced officer, is (as the prophet speaks) more 
 precious than the gold of Ophir. Your own 
 thoughts prevent me, I doubt not, in applying what 
 I now speak, to that heroic and amiable branch of 
 the royal family, wlio was to have led our forces to 
 the field, and whose safety is so eminently, and so 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 965 
 
 justly, the public care. Had God permitted the 
 hurtful sword to have approached him, (and how 
 many swords would have been pointed at him!) 
 surely the joy of complete victory and national 
 deliverance would hardly have been felt, and our 
 shouts would have been turned into one universal 
 gioan. But God has preserved him from the hazards 
 of the field, and given him to vanquish by the terror 
 of his name.* 
 
 I hope your hearts glow with gratitude, while you 
 hear these imperfect hints of the many merciful cir- 
 cumstances with which God hath adorned this great 
 deliverance, and are secretly crying out. What shall 
 we render to him for these accumulated benefits ? I 
 have not left myself time to enlarge on the answer; 
 but I would suggest it briefly under the other 
 general head, where I am, 
 
 Secondly, To represent and enforce the return 
 which God may reasonably expect from us, and 
 which the text hints at in the concluding part : 
 That we might serve him without fear, in holiness 
 and righteousness before him, all the days of our 
 life. 
 
 I may take a just and natural occasion from 
 hence, to exhort you — to consecrate yourselves to 
 the service of God ; — to set yourselves to walk be- 
 fore him in holiness and righteousness ; — to pursue 
 this course with cheerfulness ; — and to persevere in 
 it with unwearied constancy. 
 
 1. The deliverance which we are now receiving, 
 calls upon us all to consecrate ourselves to the 
 service of God. 
 
 It calls upon us, to be truly religious ; to remem- 
 ber the blessed God as the great auliior of this and 
 every mercy ; and in consequence of this, not only 
 to address some transient acknowledgment to him, 
 but to serve him : to make an unfeigned regard to 
 him the foundation of all our virtues, and the prin- 
 ciple of all our actions. It particularly requires, 
 that, conscious of our obligations to him, and our 
 dependence upon him, we keep up a grateful com- 
 merce with him, as our Creator, our Redeemer, our 
 Protector, and our Father; and daily address him 
 in prayer and praise, as those who know that we 
 are unto him a holy priesthood, and a peculiar 
 people. t Let those therefore, who have neglected 
 these important and delightful exercises, set them- 
 selves to approach the blessed God, through the 
 
 • Two small inciilfnts contributed very much to this great event. 
 One was, tliat Cumcroii of I.ocheil, tlie liead of one of the chief clun«, 
 was wounded in the Jiction at I'alkirk, and obliged to go home ; oil 
 which all his tribe went off. Thc'ilher wiis yet more surijiijiiig : Mnc- 
 donald of filengary, (who, if I mistake not, commanded in the action 
 at Prestonpans,) was since the battle killed accidentally by one of his 
 own men ; and all ttiat clan going ofl'on the Inss of their head, a great 
 desertion followed, which had, no doubt, a very great influence on that 
 precipitation with which the rebel army lied : though afler all, it was 
 the terror of his Uoyal HighncBs's name, that completed their con- 
 •ternation ; so that, as a person of great eminence in those parts (from 
 whom I had the favour to be informed of these particulars) justly 
 observes, he might say more than Ca sar, Veni, non vidi, vici. 
 
 + As the word \iiri>iueiv is used in the text, it evidently directs our 
 thoughtt to these views. 
 
 great Mediator, and make a dedication of them- 
 selves to him, that their services may be accepted : 
 let those who have already done it, renew it with 
 pleasure : and let us all, 
 
 2. Take care to approve the sincerity of such 
 solemn acts, by walking before him in holiness and 
 righteousness. 
 
 As the God to whom we profess to devote our- 
 selves, is holy, let us be holy in all manner of con- 
 versation ; separating ourselves from every pollu- 
 tion both of the flesh and of the spirit, and 
 religiously observing righteousness in all its 
 branches ; giving in the first place to the blessed 
 God his due, and esteeming it an indispensable 
 duty to abound in all the oflices of justice and 
 charity to our fellow-creatures. Thus let us behave 
 ourselves, as before him ; remembering that we are 
 continually in the venerable presence of that glo- 
 rious Being, from whom no artifice can conceal our 
 actions, to whom no specious pretences can disguise 
 them ; M'hosees our ways, and counts all our steps. 
 This will give a firmness and a consistency to our 
 conduct, whith it could not otherwise have ; and 
 will further dispose us, as we are required in the 
 text, 
 
 3. To pursue this course with a holy cheerfulness 
 and alacrity of spirit ; to serve him without fear. 
 
 The filial fear of God is so essential a part of true 
 religion, that it is often put for the whole of it ; and 
 the angel which John saw, flying through the midst 
 of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach 
 to them that dwell on the earth, demanded it aloud. 
 But there is a certain anxiety and servitude of 
 si)irit, which is beneath the genius of Christianity ; 
 a gloomy and ungenerous conception of the Deity, 
 which is a kind of heavy chain upon the mind ; 
 which makes all its operations unwieldy, and pain- 
 ful. This the gentle and encouraging constitution 
 of the gospel was intended to cure, by inspiring us 
 with sentiments of gratitude, hope, and love. Fear 
 hath torment ; and therefore that perfection of love, 
 to which so gracious a dispensation was intended to 
 bring us, castcth it out. For we have not received 
 the spirit of bondage, but of adoption ; and full of 
 filial affection and confidence, under the influences 
 of tliat Spirit, we cry, Abba, Father. Having laid 
 hold on the covenant of grace and peace in Christ, 
 having secured our everlasting concerns by com- 
 mitting our souls into his faithful hand, and listing 
 under him as the great Captain of our salvation, we 
 ought not to be terrified, as if we every moment ap- 
 prehended some fatal event ; but should march on 
 with cheerful courage, as those that expect to be 
 more than conquerors. The Lord is my lis{ht and my 
 salvation, whom shall I fear ? The Lord is tlie strength 
 of my life, of whom shall I be afraid .' Though an 
 host should encamp against mc, my heart shall 
 not fear. Renewed deliverance should encourage 
 
956 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 our hope and conlldeiu'c in liim, and should forbid 
 that anxiety of spirit, vvliich seasons of public alarm 
 are too ready to occasion. Let this therefore be 
 our character and temper : and to conclude the ex- 
 liortatioii, 
 
 4. Let us constantly persevere in it, and carry it 
 through all the days of our life. 
 
 It was tlie unhappy character of Israel, that 
 though under the lirst impressions of his merciful 
 appearances for them they sang God's praise, they 
 soon forgat his works. But wc ought to remember, 
 that tliough this particular interposition and act of 
 Divine Providence be a transient thing, the effects of 
 it are solid and permanent. If (which I hope will 
 be the case) we enjoy future tranquillity and 
 liberty ; if our religious rights continue unmolested, 
 even to the end of our lives ; and our posterity rise 
 up to the same blessings after us ; we are to ascribe 
 it to this defeat of the common enemy. It ought 
 therefore to be our care, to carry the substantial 
 proofs of our gratitude through every remaining day 
 of life ; and, as far as in us lies, to transmit the im- 
 pression to them that come after us ; as it is the 
 divine pleasure, that one generation should praise 
 his works to another, and should declare his mighty 
 acts. And indeed, if the gracious hand of God in 
 our deliverance be forgot ; if men either attempt no 
 reformation at all, or soon return to their former in- 
 dolence and wickedness ; I fear, our case will be 
 like that of the wretched demoniac in the parable, 
 to whom the evil spirit, which had left him for a 
 while, returned, with seven confederate spirits 
 worse than himself, who rendered his last state 
 more miserable than the former. 
 
 But this naturally leads me to mention some con- 
 siderations, by which I shall further enforce the ex- 
 hortation I have been addressing to you. And you 
 will casil}' perceive, that they are very obvious ; 
 and the importance of tliem is equally apparent. — 
 We shall otherwise make a most ungrateful return 
 to God ; — we shall be condemned even by the tenor 
 of our own prayers ; — we may reasonably expect, 
 that God should renew his chastisements with 
 greater severity ; — or we may be assured, that to 
 have alienated ourselves from his service after such 
 a deliverance, will be matter of dreadful account at 
 last to every particular person, however God may 
 be pleased to deal with us as a nation. 
 
 1. Let your own consciences judge, whether it 
 were not a most ungrateful return to the blessed 
 God, for all the benefits we have received from him, 
 to neglect the temper and conduct to which we have 
 been exhorted. 
 
 What can we imagine he intended by this train 
 of providences; by the alarm, and the rescue? 
 Was it not to awaken us ? Was it not to engage us 
 to serve him ? — What other end could liis wisdom 
 and goodness propose in it? Or what so worthy end 
 
 can we ascribe to him ? — And shall we, so far as in 
 us lies, frustrate this gracious design of Provi- 
 dence ; a design, which indeed so greatly enhances 
 the value of the mercy itself? Shall we go on in 
 our sins, and act as if we really imagined, that we 
 were delivered on purpose to repeat and aggravate 
 our abominations? Surely we sliould think of it 
 with detestation. According to that justand lively 
 reasoning of the pious Ezra, After thou hast given 
 us such a deliverance as this, should we again break 
 thy commandments? God forbid. — Were this to be 
 our conduct, 
 
 2. We should be condemned by the tenor of our 
 own prayers. 
 
 Let me on this occasion seriously remind you of 
 our late solemn assemblies, in public and in pri- 
 vate; of the repeated and earnest supplications, 
 which we have made it our professed business to 
 pour out in the divine presence. And what was 
 then the language of our lips, and of our hearts ? 
 Could we have presumed to say, " Lord, deliver us, 
 that we may go on to oflend thee ? and lengthen 
 out our tranquillity, that our minds may be as vain, 
 our passions as irregular, and our lives as unpro- 
 fitable as before?" No, far from this, it was our 
 prayer, that God would by all this reform us ; that 
 he would reform us as a nation ; and what vile 
 hypocrisy, what profane contempt of the Divine 
 Being, were it, to pretend to desire reformation as 
 a nation, while we are unwilling to bear our part 
 in it; nay, while we are throwing in the weight of 
 our example, be it more or less, into the opposite 
 scale ! Alas, Sirs, you may forget your prayers, as 
 soon as you have ended them ; you may disregard 
 the purport of them, even while you pretend by 
 your bodily posture and appearance to be offering 
 them to God : but they are all set down in the book 
 of his remembrance ; and his eye, which can never 
 be eluded or imposed upon, discerns the consist- 
 ency or inconsistency of your actions, when com- 
 pared with them. If therefore these reasonable and 
 grateful returns be not made, it follows by a natural 
 connexion with the former consideration, 
 
 3. We may justly apprehend, that God will 
 renew his chastisements with greater severity. 
 
 Such is the tenor of that dreadful scripture. If 
 ye will not be reformed by me by these things, saifh 
 the Lord, (that is, by the calamities which had been 
 spoken of before,) but will still walk contrary to 
 me ; then will I also walk contrary to you, and will 
 punish you yet seven times more for your sins. 
 And let us not imagine this impossible. Let us 
 not act as if we thought, (what it is certain none 
 of us can think,) that God hath no weapon but the 
 sword, by which he can chastise us. Those arrows 
 of his righteous displeasure which he is discharging 
 against our cattle, such as in some instances have 
 been a forerunner to the most terrible of all tem- 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 057 
 
 poral judgments, a pestilence among men, may 
 sensibly teach us the contrary. — Nor can we ima- 
 gine, that if he chose to make the sword the instru- 
 ment of his justice, he has no other hands to wield 
 it, than those from which it now seems to be falling. 
 Nay, even these falli^ig hands can he strengthen. 
 His almighty breath can in a moment blow up the 
 dying embers into a flame, which shall spread from 
 our cities to our villages, and consume our houses, 
 our palaces, and our churches. — It is very observ- 
 able, that when Jerusalem was just going to be 
 destroyed, first by the Chaldeans, and several ages 
 afterwards by the Romans, that a few months before 
 the fatal blow came, the hostile armies which were 
 encamped against the city, on a sudden raised the 
 siege, and removed to some distance ; which afford- 
 ed a short trimmph to the wretched inhabitants.* 
 But alas, soon did they return with redoubled terror, 
 and execute the divine judgments upon them, with 
 a severity hardly to be equalled in the history of 
 any other country. Let Britain hear and tremble : 
 lest after having shared with Jerusalem in the rich 
 blessings it received and abused, we also share with 
 it in a proportionable vengeance. But whether 
 that vengeance fall upon us as a kingdom, or not, 
 
 4. We may be assured, that to have alienated our- 
 selves from the service of God, after having receiv- 
 ed such and so many deliverances, will be to each 
 particular person matter of dreadful account before 
 the tribunal of God at last. 
 
 Remember it. Sirs, the day is near; that awful 
 important day, that will call you to the divine bar : 
 and are not many of you every hour liable to be 
 called thither, with the guilt of all your sins upon 
 your head ? Alas, how many have passed into eter- 
 nity since this rebellion broke out, even of those 
 who have not been exposed to the ravages of war, 
 and the terrors of the sword ! How many, that but a 
 few weeks ago were as inquisitive after news, and 
 as impatient to hear the event, as wc, have been 
 suddenly cut off in the midst of all the tumult and 
 agitation of their various passions ; and found per- 
 haps, that, important as the affair was about the 
 issue of which they were so solicitous, there was 
 another of infinitely greater moment to them, which 
 they neglected ; and neglected to their eternal ruin ! 
 
 We all know, that we must shortly be among the 
 dead : and surely when we have that solemn inter- 
 view with our Judge, he will remember through 
 what a scene we have passed ; and will distinctly 
 attend to every circumstance, in his conduct to- 
 wards us. And how justly may he expostulate 
 with us, at least by the voice of our own conscience, 
 in some such language as this ? " What could I 
 have done more for you, than I did ? What methods 
 did I not try upon you ? By my kind providence 
 
 * See .Icr. xxxvii. j-IO. and Joseph. Bell. Jud. lib. ii. cap. Fal. 
 
 you were born in a land, for its civil and religious 
 privileges the glory of all lands. You grew up from 
 your infancy in a profound peace, and only heard 
 by a distant report of the calamities with which 
 other nations were exercised. On you I tried 
 gentler methods, sending to you all my servants, 
 rising up early and sending them, with messages 
 of the most evident importance; but ye would not 
 hear. You still continued settled on your lees : 
 and therefore, after long forbearance, I for a little 
 while changed the dealings of my providence. I 
 shook my rod over you : I permitted an enemy to 
 invade you, and evil to rise up against you at home : 
 and after long insensibility, you saw your danger 
 extreme. But while it was pressing, you were too 
 busy to mind religion. It was judged employment 
 enough, to prepare for your security against the 
 violence of man ; whereas my displeasure was not 
 apprehended, nor any serious measures taken to 
 provide against it. I bore all this ; and by a sud- 
 den turn in my providence I delivered and esta- 
 blished you again : and you did indeed take some 
 notice of it. You inquired into the circumstance ; 
 you talked of it for a while, as a remarkable story ; 
 but it proved a mere amusement. Your hearts 
 were not struck ; you returned not unto me ; no 
 man repented of his wickedness, so as seriously to 
 say. What have I done ! Therefore were you justly 
 given up as incorrigible. I had reason to say. Why 
 should ye be stricken any more ? ye w ill revolt 
 more and more. Wonder not therefore, that you 
 are now given up to destruction, after having been 
 tlius solicited and alarmed, thus rescued and en- 
 treated again, in vain." 
 
 May divine grace preserve you from that dread- 
 ful sentence, which must succeed to such a remon- 
 strance ! May it inspire us all with better senti- 
 ments ; that we may not only learn (what these 
 insufferable disorders must, I think, teach the most 
 stupid) to be sensible of the blessings we enjoy 
 under his majesty's happy administration, and most 
 loyally to exert ourselves to the utmost in its de- 
 fence : but may we also learn, to submit ourselves 
 most constantly to the government of God ! May 
 we all be engaged to search our ways and our 
 hearts, that we may correct every thing that is amiss, 
 and may act more worthy the signal blessings we 
 continue to enjoy, and the gracious providence by 
 whicli wc are re-established in them! 
 
 I shall conclude, with one more general reflec- 
 tion and inference ; which will ever be seasonable, 
 and which most directly suits the text in its pri- 
 mary design, as uttered at the birth of John the 
 forerunner of our Lord. 
 
 How incomparably great are our obligations to 
 God, for that deliverance whicli he hath granted us 
 by his Son ; and how great will our guilt and con- 
 demnation be, if we do not improve it aright ! 
 
958 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 The utmost rap:c of liuman enemies can only kill 
 the body ; but those spiritual enemies from whom 
 Christ delivers us, are aiminj; at the everlastinf; 
 destruction of the soul. By him God hath eonde- 
 scended to fifive us the most coujplete rule, and the 
 most amiable example, of a pious, holy, and rio;hte- 
 ous life; enforced by every motive that can strike 
 tin- most active of our passions. Tiie stupid disre- 
 pird of it which so j;enerally prevails, is, next to 
 the mad opposition whieli men of corrupt minds are 
 making to it, the basest and most provoking ingra- 
 titude to the Divine Being. And the just dis- 
 pleasure of God against it will be irresistibly 
 demonstrated, when he, whom men will not now 
 receive as a deliverer, shall be revealed in flaming 
 fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, 
 and that obey not his gospel. 
 
 But, I hope, many of us have been engaged by 
 divine grace to comply with its design, and have 
 the testimony of our consciences that we are walk- 
 ing before God in holiness and righteousness. Let 
 such of us be animated to go on cheerfully in our 
 way. Let our souls magnify the Lord, and our 
 spirits rejoice in God our Saviour ; persisting in his 
 service, till we arrive at that world, where our dis- 
 position to it, and our happiness in it, shall meet 
 with no interruption or allay ; even at those peace- 
 ful and blissful regions, where no name of an enemy 
 shall be heard but in songs of triumph ; and where 
 the utter destruction of the last of enemies shall 
 furnish out matter for those songs. 
 
 POSTSCRIFr. 
 
 1 aild llie hymn which was sung ufler the Sermon, as wh:it may 
 naturally iiiid phiinly ex|iri'ss thiise devout sentiments, which Hill,! 
 hope, rise in the mind of every attentive reader. 
 
 I. 
 
 Salvation does to God belong. 
 His power and grace shall be our song : 
 His hand hath dealt a secret blow, 
 And terror strikes the haughty foe. 
 IL 
 
 The Lord's avenging sword is nigh ; 
 In uproar wild their legions ily : 
 And stores, so late their boast and joy, 
 Their own despairing hands destroy. 
 
 in. 
 
 Praise to the Lord, who bows his ear, 
 Propitious to his people's prayer ; 
 And, though deliverance long delay, 
 Answers in his well-chosen day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 O may thy grace our land engage, 
 Rescued from fierce barbarian rage, 
 The tribute of its love to bring 
 To thee, our Saviour and our King ! 
 V. 
 
 Our temples, guarded from the flame, 
 Shall echo thy triumphant name ; 
 And every peaceful private home 
 To thee a temple shall become. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Still be it our supreme delight, 
 To walk as in thine honoured sight ; 
 Still in thy precepts, and thy fear, 
 To life's last hour to persevere ! 
 
 SERMON XIX. 
 
 THE ABSURDITY AND INIQUITY OF PERSECUTION FOR 
 CONSCIENCE-SAKE. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The emissaries of the Roman see are so far from giving up their cause in this kingdom as lost, that the 
 most distant prospects of success produce new and vigorous efl'orts to promote it. Some time since, they 
 were very busy in town, and in many places in the country, perverting the common people, and making 
 proselytes. These bold steps awakened the attention of those who have always manifested a warm and 
 disinterested zeal for the Reformation ; and gave occasion to that seasonable attempt, which was made 
 the last year, by several eminent ministers, in a course of lectures at Salters Hall, to prevent the growth 
 of popery. Our fathers beheld that mystery of iniquity with abhorrence and terror ; but the present 
 
ORDINATION SERMONS. 
 
 959 
 
 generation were not so well acquainted with its fatal tendency. It would, therefore, have been an 
 inexcusable neglect, if, while the enemies were sowing tares, the servants had slept, or had not faithfully 
 warned the rising age of their gross errors in doctrine, and of that superstition and idolatry with whicli 
 they corrupt and dclile the Christian worship. 
 
 I observed, with pleasure, that tliose sermons met with general acceptance. The vast demand for 
 them, among persons of a different taste and education, is a full evidence of the masterly manner in 
 which that important design was executed. And I cannot but look upon it as a singular happiness to 
 the public, that the work fell into the hands of men who understood tlie true principles of liberty, and 
 steadily pursued them through the whole performance ; w hich has not always been the case of those who 
 have gone before them in that controversj'. The secular powers were not called upon to interpose with 
 their authority ; but a calm and sober appeal was made to the Holy Scriptures, and to the reason of 
 mankind, as the only proper judges in these debates. 
 
 On a careful perusal of the following Discourse, I conceived it might be of service to publish it ; and 
 since it attacks one of the principal bulwarks of the popish usurpation, I apprehended it could not 
 appear with greater advantage, than as an appendix to the above-mentioned Lectures, if my worthy 
 brethren concerned should approve of it in that view. 
 
 It has been the great unhappiness of many protestant dissenters, that they have entertained too narrow 
 sentiments of tlie right of private judgment ; without which a separation from an establishment can 
 never be rationally defended. The writings on that argument, in which the question, in all its circum- 
 stances, is examined, are so large, and the reasoning so abstracted, that I have long wished for something 
 more immediately calculated for popular use : and so much the rather, as pious and well-disposed minds 
 have been too much impressed with the pretences urged to justify religious severities, without considering 
 the consequences to which they lead. 
 
 My known affection to the author may perhaps incline some to conclude, that I am prejudiced in his 
 favour, and will readily recommend every composure which he offers to the world ; but so far as I am 
 capable of judging of this Discourse, it is the !-est I have ever seen on the subject in so narrow a 
 compass ; the case of persecution is so clearly stated, the absurdity and iniquity of it so fully exposed, 
 and tlie reasons advanced in its defence, especially those drawn from the penal laws amongst the Jews, 
 are so well answered, that, I am willing to believe, it will give satisfaction to all impartial and candid 
 readers. 
 
 It is with a great deal of concern, that I have taken notice of some unwary expressions, dropped by 
 our writers of the last age, vi hich countenance restraints inconsistent with toleration in its largest extent. 
 These have been industriously collected to upbraid and condemn us. And it has been artfully and 
 maliciously insinuated, tliat when we are pleading for liberty, we are only struggling for power to deprive 
 others of the privileges we claim for ourselves. I hope the ensuing pages, in concurrence with that 
 ample testimony which has been borne to the same cause, by the most considerable persons amongst us, 
 will silence our adversaries, and wipe off so unjust and invidious a reproach. 
 
 D. SOME. 
 
 Hnrhorougli, Feb. 17, 1735-G. 
 
 Luke ix. .55, .5G. 
 
 But he turned and rehvkcd them, and said. Ye know 
 not what manner of spirit ye are of: for the Son 
 oftnan is not come to destroy men's lives, but to 
 save them. 
 
 If popery be considered in a religious view, it must 
 appear the just object of our contempt, as well as 
 oar abhorrence ; but if we regard it as a political 
 contrivance, to gratify the avarice and ambition of 
 the clergy, it will appear very artfully adapted to 
 answer that end. The wisdom of the serpent emi- 
 nently prevailed when the innocence of the dove 
 had long been lost. Cunning ecclesiastics, who 
 were by their office obliged frequently to converse 
 with persons under awakenings of conscience, and 
 serious impressions, laid hold on that opportunity 
 of improving themselves in an acquaintance with 
 human nature ; and on that foundation they gra- 
 dually formed and completed a scheme, dexterously 
 
 adapted to make the minds of their people easy, by 
 the same notions and forms by which the clergy 
 enriched themselves, and secured that temporal 
 dominion and grandeur, for which they were eon- 
 tented to exchange true Christianity, and to make 
 merchandise of the souls committed to their care. 
 
 Some of these principles were so evidently ab- 
 surd, that the common sense of mankind, however 
 bribed in their favour, must often have risen up in 
 open opposition to them, had freedom of inquiry 
 been allowed, and the Scriptures been left in the 
 hands of the people. It was therefore one of their 
 most important artifices to take away that key of 
 knowledge, and to put out that light which would 
 have exposed the folly and wickedness of their 
 conduct. And further, to supjiort that Babel which 
 must otherwise have sunk under its own weight, 
 tlie powers of this world were brought in, and its 
 rulers taught to think it their highest honour, to 
 employ their sword against those obstinate mis- 
 creants who were disobedient to the faith, as the 
 
960 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 priests thoufcht fit to explain it. To injure the 
 weaiccr part of tlieir subjects in tlieir religious 
 rig:]its, was represented as an ample atonement for 
 violating the civil liberties of them all ; and thus 
 the mouths of gainsayers were most easily and 
 ell'eetualiy stopped. From some countries the re- 
 formation was utterly excluded, in others it was 
 stilled in its very infancy, and in some rooted out, 
 after it had for a while been happily advanced. 
 
 This is undoubtedly the grand bulwark of jjopcry, 
 even to this very day ; and were it removed, the 
 anathemas of the ehiireh would become as incapa- 
 ble of giving terror, as they are of doing any real 
 mischief. And therefore one of the most effectual 
 methods which can be taken to secure and promote 
 the l^cformation, is to convince men, if possible, of 
 the absurdity and iniquity of persecution for con- 
 science-sake, in all its kinds and in all its degrees. 
 
 Tiiis is what, by the divine assistance, I purpose 
 to attempt this day ; nor could we at any time more 
 properly examine the subject;* since it is to the 
 repeated deliverances of this day, that we owe our 
 exemption from those usurpations and inhumani- 
 ties, which would have deprived us of tlic liberty of 
 arguing, or even of complaining. How justly the 
 church of Komc is charged with persecuting prin- 
 ciples and practices, you have heard ; and blessed 
 be God that you have only heard it.f How absurd 
 those principles and how criminal those practices 
 arc, I an> now to show you. And amongst a variety 
 of scriptures, which might have been prefixed to 
 such a discourse, I could think of none more proper 
 than this which I •»?ive now been reading. 
 
 Our Lord was now going up to Jerusalem, at one 
 of the great feasts ; probably that of tabernacles : 
 and as he then came from Galilee, he thought it 
 proper to pass through Samaria. This was the 
 directest road which it was then perhaps necessary 
 for him to take, in order to his being at Jerusalem 
 in due time. You well know that in this country, 
 i. e. on Mount Gerizim, there was a temple built 
 as a rival to that on Mount Zion, to which the 
 Samaritans, who, after their way, kept the three 
 great annual feasts appointed by Moses, were pro- 
 bably at this time preparing to resort. But as our 
 Lord appeared to be passing by this temple, and 
 setting his face towards that where the Jews wor- 
 shipped, these bigoted Samaritans denied him the 
 common rites of hospitality, and would not sulfer 
 him and his attendants so much as to refresh them- 
 selves at any of their inns ; wliich seems to be all the 
 favour they now asked. This was indeed very out- 
 
 * N. B. Tills sermon was prearlied Nov. 5, 1735 
 
 + N. B. This particularly refers to n sermon on Hip perserntin;^ 
 
 {irificiplcs and practices of tlif clnircU of Romi', with wliich the author 
 lad conclnded liis course of lectures aj^ainst popery last year. What 
 is most important in that discourse may lie seen, with much greater 
 advantafre, in T>r. (irosvenor's sermon at NaltiTs Hull, on the same sub. 
 ject; which is full of tliat e!«sy, hut peuetratiu^ and convinciu^, 
 eloquence, of which he is sq eminent a master. 
 
 rageous and inhumane treatment, and the apostles 
 James and John, who were now present, resented 
 it with a great deal of warmth. Full of zeal, and, 
 as they imagined, of piety, and of faith too, they 
 only ask leave of our Lord to command fire from 
 heaven u\nm these unreasonable and wicked men, 
 assuring themselves that if an allVont olfered to the 
 prophet Flijah, even by the express command of 
 the king of Lsrael, were once and again thus 
 severely avenged, the artillery of heaven would be 
 yet more ready to plead the cause of the Son of 
 God, when thus afl'ionted, perhaps by some of the 
 meanest of the people. 
 
 How far they would have extended the execu- 
 tion, if our Lord had favoured their motion, we 
 cannot certainly say ; perhaps it had reached further 
 than the i)ersons from whom the ofi'cncie directly 
 came, and might have laid the whole city in ashes. 
 It is certain that a judgment, inflicted in such a 
 miraculous way, would have been less liable to 
 objection, than if secular power had been armed on 
 the occasion. Yet our gentle and compassionate 
 Redeemer, far from indulging their request, very 
 faithfully reproves it, and exjiressly says, Ye know 
 not what manner of spirit ye are of; /. c. " You 
 neither consider the diil'erencc which there is be- 
 tween the genius of the Mosaic and the Christian 
 dispensation; nor do you sufficiently weigh the 
 secret motives which influence you on this occasion ; 
 for, if you did, you would see there is something*of 
 pride and personal revenge mingling itself with 
 your zeal for God, your alfection to me, and my 
 kingdom. Your proposal is, on the whole, most 
 unsuitable; and, as such, I absolutely reject it. 
 For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's 
 lives, but to save them. The general design of my 
 appearance is most benevolent and gracious, and I 
 am determined still to act agreeably to it, and to 
 exert my miraculous power in works of kindness 
 rather than of terror ; for the preservation of man- 
 kind, and not for their destruction." 
 
 Now, surely, if our Lord thus severely rebuked 
 his disciples for the proposal they here made, he 
 would have censured them with much greater dis- 
 pleasure if they had talked of using his interest 
 amongst the Jews, to raise an army to ravage 
 Samaria by fire and sword ; and, on the same prin- 
 ciple, to spread desolation over the face of the 
 whole earth, wherever they and their doctrine had 
 not met with a favourable reception. The argument 
 urged in the text would have concluded against 
 this with equal and superior force : The Son of 
 man came not to destroy men's lives, but to save 
 them. 
 
 You see then, how properly these words may be 
 used, to introduce a discourse against persecution 
 on any religious account ; I shall therefore, without 
 any further preface, go on, 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 9C1 
 
 I. To state what I apprehend to be the Christian 
 doctrine on this head, as opposed both to the tenets 
 and practices of the Romish churcli, with regard 
 to it. 
 
 II. To show', by some plain arguments, the ab- 
 surdity and iniquity of persecution for conscience- 
 sake. 
 
 III. To answer some of the most plausible con- 
 siderations which have been urged in defence of it. 
 After which I shall, 
 
 IV. Conclude with some practical improvements 
 of the whole. 
 
 I should abundantly exceed the limits of a single 
 discourse, if I were not to content myself with a 
 few short hints on each of these heads, which have 
 furnished out copious matter for several large 
 volumes. And I hope those who have had an op- 
 portunity of inquiring most accurately into tlie 
 subject, and of perusing what has been written 
 upon it, by some of the most celebrated persons of 
 our age and nation, will not be displeased with such 
 a short survey of what seems most material on both 
 sides the question. And it may be highly necessary 
 for others, who have not such leisure or abilities, 
 and who, for want of having the matter fairly and 
 clearly stated, may fall into sentiments very in- 
 jurious to the honour of their profession, and the 
 peace of their minds. 
 
 I. I am to propose what I take to be the Chris- 
 tian doctrine on this head ; and to offer some pre- 
 vious remarks towards stating the question aright, 
 and preventing mistakes which often embarrass it. 
 
 I say, the Christian doctrine, lest, if I call it the 
 protestant, any should question the propriety of the 
 expression. It is indeed too plain, that our first re- 
 formers, when they separated from other corruptions 
 of the Romish church, retained this unhappy prin- 
 ciple : " That error and heresy are to be extirpated 
 by violence ; and that the conduct of some pious 
 princes amongst the .lews, in destroying idolaters, 
 is to be a model for Christian magistrates." This 
 was not the opinion of the pious Calvin alone, 
 whatever pleasure some may now take in heaping 
 distinguished infamy on him ; but it is much easier 
 to make a large catalogue of those in England, as 
 well as abroad, who maintained this tenet, than of 
 those who opposed it. Nor indeed can we justly 
 wonder, that the whole system of truth did not 
 break in upon them at once. We have great rea- 
 son to be thankful, that they were enabled to lay 
 such a foundation, and that others, in succeeding 
 ages, have, in any measure, raised and improved 
 the superstructure ; yet I will not presume to say, 
 that all protestants are now agreed in what I take 
 to be the truth here: it would be much for the 
 credit, and much for the interest, of their cause, if 
 they were ; and we ought earnestly to pray, that 
 God, by his Spirit of goodness and love, would 
 3 a 
 
 purge out the remainder of that old leaven, which 
 still sours the hearts of some. But, I persuade 
 myself, I am about to represent sentiments, in 
 which multitudes of worthy and excellent men, of 
 all parties amongst us, concur ; and they seem to 
 be breaking in on men's minds with a growing 
 light : may it shine more and more, until the per- 
 fect day ! The protestant doctrine on this head, so 
 far as protestants are consistent with themselves, 
 seems plainly to be this : " That none are to be 
 subjected to any kind or degrees of civil penalties, 
 merely on account of their religious opinions, or for 
 any practices arising from them, if those practices 
 be not detrimental to the peace of society, which 
 the magistrate, by his office, stands engaged to pre- 
 serve." 
 
 We readily allow, that if any man's religious 
 principles carry him on to any actions injurious to 
 others, in their persons or properties, he is to be 
 restrained and punished, as any other offender might 
 be. Should any man, for instance, offer his son as 
 a sacrifice to Moloch, he would justly be treated as 
 a murderer, notwithstanding any plea of conscience 
 which he might pretend to make. For tlie magis- 
 trate has no business with conscience, which is en- 
 tirely under the jurisdiction of God, but must never 
 be allowed as an excuse for an action injurious to 
 others ; for this very obvious reason, that if it 
 should be so allowed, there would be no room for 
 any penal laws at all, and consequently all civil 
 government would be overthrown. For a bold and 
 impudent malefactor would never fail to have re- 
 course to this easy and unanswerable apology, if 
 his judges were so weak as to admit it. Nor can 
 we indeed imagine any blacker villanies, than those 
 which some have pretended to commit for con- 
 science-sake. 
 
 We likewise grant, on the same principle as be- 
 fore, that if any man's religion necessarily subject 
 him to the obe<lience of a foreign prince, the govern- 
 ment under which he is born and protected, has a 
 right, by the grand law of self-preservation, to in- 
 sist on some more than ordinary security for his 
 good behaviour in such circumstances. And this is 
 evidently the case of the papists amongst us. They 
 are under sudi obligations in (lonscience to obey the 
 pope, and to submit themselves to whatsoever 
 prince he shall see fit to establish here, that they 
 are at best but very precarious subjects to that royal 
 family which the gracious providence of the Al- 
 mighty has been pleased to fix on the throne of 
 these nations ; especially while there is a Pretender 
 to that throne devoted to the see of Rome, and 
 espoused by it. .Justly therefore may the present 
 government insist on such security from them as it 
 does not demand from other subjects. And if in 
 consequence of this, some hardships should fall on 
 a few peaceable and well-disposed persons, who 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 are (oo w isc and lionest to act to the utmost of what 
 their own principles would w arrant, it must be borne 
 as an inconvenience inseparable from present cir- 
 ciunstaiu'cs. And perhaps it is an inconvenience 
 less tlian those very persons mi{?ht sutler, from the 
 establishment of a relijifion so oppressive and tyran- 
 nical, as popery always appears, when it comes to 
 be arrayed with the robe of the magistrate, and 
 armed with liis sword. However, it is a pleasure 
 to every good-natured protestant, to think, that wiiat 
 they can sutler by the laws put in execution against 
 them, is not very extreme ; and that they sutler 
 this, not for believing transubstantiation, or pur- 
 gatory, nor for praying to saints, or bowing down 
 before images ; but merely for acknowledging the 
 supremacy of the poj^c, a doctrine so hurtful to all 
 other supreme authority, that it is amazing all tlic 
 princes in Europe have not long ago renounced it 
 with the utmost disdain. 
 
 Allow ing for such cases as these, which are not 
 properly exceptions, we stili maintain our proposi- 
 tion in its utmost extent ; and assert, that unless 
 God, the searcher of hearts, is pleased to interpose 
 by a special revelation, (which tliere is now no rea- 
 son to believe he will ever do,) taking tlic matter 
 on the principle of human reason, or of the Chris- 
 tian religion, no man is to sutler the least degree of 
 punishment, either in his person or property, on 
 account of his religious opinions, or of any practice 
 consetjucnt upon them, which is not an overt act, 
 plainly inconsistent witii the public peace, and 
 punishable in another subject. They who are for a 
 toleration limited, as good Mr. Baxter used unhap- 
 pily to express it, " to errors which are not quite 
 intolerable ;" and v^ould have such punished at 
 least with fines and imprisonments, if not with 
 greater severities, seem not to be aware of the con- 
 sequences of their own scheme ; and, as Dr. Owen 
 very forcibly speaks, in his excellent treatise of 
 toleration,* " they had need to examine their light; 
 for their tenet must lead down to the chambers of 
 blood." We do not indeed pretend to say, that the 
 magistrate is obliged to make such provision for 
 maintaining and accommodating those whom he 
 apprehends to be teachers of error, as he may for 
 those who are of his own sentiments, and conse- 
 quently, whom he believes on the side of truth. 
 This would be carrying matters to an excess ; but 
 surely he has no right to inflict any penalties upon 
 them, nor in any degree to abi idgc them in those 
 liberties, which peaceable subjects are entitled to. 
 And if he may exclude any from such places of 
 civil trust, as their capacity, experience, and fide- 
 lity, might otherwise cpjalify them for, merely be- 
 cause their religious persuasions, and their modes 
 of worship, differ from his ow n, it is upon princi- 
 
 * Wliicli, l)y tlie way, goes on as large iiriiiriples as Mr. Locke's 
 aftLT ,\'ards did, and contains what is most essentii! in the controversy. 
 
 pies which I am yet to learn ; nor can I perceive 
 at present how they are to be reconciled with those 
 of a Christian and a protestant. 
 
 You will easily imagine, what reason I had to be 
 thus particular in stating and in guarding my i)ro- 
 position. I proceed, 
 
 II. To oiler some obvious but important consider- 
 ations, for tlic proof of it. 
 
 And here I shall particularly show, that persecu- 
 tion for conseienec-sakc, in all its kinds and de- 
 grees, is built on the absurd supposition, — that one 
 man has a right to judge for another in matters of 
 religion ; — that it contradicts the grand principle of 
 doing to others as we would think it reasonable 
 they should do to us ; — tliat it is by no means calcu- 
 lated to answer the end pretended to be aimed at 
 by it ; — but, on the other hand, tends to introduce 
 a great deal of mischief and confusion, to overthrow 
 truth and religion in the world. — On these accounts, 
 it is inconsistent with natural religion ; — and it ap- 
 pears from the whole tenor of the Christian revela- 
 tion, liiat it is most contrary to that. 
 
 1. Persecution for conscience-sake, i. e. inflicting 
 penalties on men, merely for their religious prin- 
 ciples or worship, is plainly founded on an absurd 
 supposition, that one man has a right to judge for 
 another in matters of religion. 
 
 How absurd this supposition is, has been fully 
 proved at large, by many excellent writers in this 
 controversy ; and you have, no doubt, often heard, 
 how contemptibly weak those arguments are, by 
 which the Romish church would appropriate this 
 right to itself. Nevertheless, absurd as tlieir pre- 
 tence to infallibility is, I confess there is much more 
 consistency in the persecutions of those who claim 
 such a privilege, than of those who acknowledge 
 they are destitute of it. Can any man, with the 
 least colour of reason, pretend that I have a right 
 to judge for myself, and yet punish me for using 
 it? — that is, for doing that which he acknowledges 
 I have a riglit to do. To plead for it, would be a 
 direct contradiction in terms. And if it should be 
 said, as some have most weakly asserted, that the 
 erroneous are to be punished, not for their opinions, 
 but for their actions in consequence of those 
 opinions, I would then inquire. For what actions? 
 and how are these actions condemned ? Not on 
 account of their tendency to disturb and annoy the 
 public ; for that ease has already been excluded 
 from the charge of persecution : and, when that is 
 excluded, I repeat the question, how are those ac- 
 tions condemned ? Why, the persecutor must say, 
 " I know them to be contrary to the divine law.'' 
 But how do you prove that you are not mistaken ? 
 If you allow of argument on the head, you give up 
 the cause of persecution so far. If you wave argu- 
 ment, you only in effect say, " the actions are 
 wrong, because I condemn them ; ?'. e. in other 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 963 
 
 words, I am infallible ; I am to judge for myself 
 and you, and, by a parity of reason, for all the 
 world besides." And who might not make that 
 pretence ? Or, how should it ever be decided but 
 by the sword, in the present circumstances ? 
 
 2. Persecution is most ev idently inconsistent with 
 that obvious and fundamental principle of morality, 
 that we should do to others as we could reasonably 
 desire they should do to us. 
 
 This is a rule wliich carries its own demonstra- 
 tion along with it ; and it was intended on purpose 
 to take off that bias of self-love, which would draw 
 us aside from the straight line of equity, and lead 
 us to be partial judges between our neighbours and 
 ourselves. Now I would ask the advocate of whole- 
 some severities, how he would relish his own argu- 
 ments, if they were turned upon himself? What 
 if he were to go abroad into the world, amongst 
 papists, if he be a protestant ; amongst Mahomet- 
 ans, if he be a Christian ? Supposing he was to 
 behave like an honest man, like a good neighbour, 
 like a peaceable subject ; avoiding whatever would 
 injure and provoke, and taking all opportunities to 
 serve and oblige those about him : would he tliink 
 that, merely because he refused to follow his neigh- 
 bours to their altars, or their mosques, he should be 
 seized and imprisoned, his goods confiscated, and 
 his person condemned to tortures or death ? Un- 
 doubtedly he would complain of this as a very 
 great hardship. And what if one, who heard him 
 plead for religious severities at home, were to re- 
 mind him of it, would he not be wounded with his 
 own arrows ? What could he answer ? " I am in 
 the right, and these people are in the wrong." 
 " Nay," would not the inquisitor or the Turk cry 
 full as loudly as he, " but we are in the right ;" and 
 they might justly add, "with what face can you 
 complain of us, for treating you in such a manner, 
 as, you must confess, you should think yourself 
 bound in conscience to treat us, if we were in your 
 power, as you arc in ours?" Surely, a man would 
 see the absurdity and injustice of such a treatment, 
 when it fell upon him ; when with such measure as 
 he had meted to others, it was measured to him 
 again. And accordingly, I must observe, as many 
 have done, that the cll'cct of this argument is so co- 
 gent, that those who, when they have had the power 
 in their own hands, have been least willing to tole- 
 rate others, have immediately found new light 
 breaking in upon them, as soon as they have needed 
 toleration themselves. 
 
 3. Persecution is evidently abi5urd, as it is, by no 
 means, calculated to answer the end which its 
 patrons profess to intend by it. 
 
 I say, which they profess to intend : for if the 
 priests do really intend to make the laity slaves, 
 that they may exalt their own empire, and increase 
 their possessions, it may indeed very probably 
 3 Q 2 
 
 answer that end ; and these holy men may make 
 themselves fat with the sin and plunder of the 
 people, and purchase church-lands with the price 
 of their blood. But, to save appearances at least, 
 they profess to intend the glory of God, and the 
 salvation of men; for so you know the forms of the 
 inquisition run, " To answer to sundry questions 
 relating to their souls' health, as well as the correc- 
 tion of their manners and excess." Now, I be- 
 seech you, let it be seriously considered, how per- 
 secution can be like to do good to men's souls. 
 
 To be sure, if it does them good at all, it must be 
 by making tliem truly religious. But what is true 
 religion ? Is it to repeat a creed, or subscribe a con- 
 fession, to wear a name, or perform a ceremony ? 
 If it be, I am sure religion is much changed from 
 what it was, when the Scriptures were written ; and 
 the nature of God must be entirely changed too, 
 before such a religion can be acceptable to him, or 
 before it can have the least value in his sight. 
 
 True religion must be founded in the inward 
 conviction of the mind, or it is impossible it should 
 be what yet it must be, a reasonable service. And 
 pray let it be considered what violence and perse- 
 cution can do, towards producing such an inward 
 conviction. It cannot to be sure do it immediately 
 by its own power ; because it is a demonstration, 
 that will at the same moment suit both the parts of 
 a contradiction. And it is certain a man might as 
 reasonably expect to bind an immaterial spirit with 
 a cord, or to beat down a wall by an argument, as 
 to convince the understanding by threats or by tor- 
 tures. They may indeed make a man mad, but it 
 is the hardest thing in the world to imagine how 
 they should ever make him wise. 
 
 Not innnediately, you will say : we grant 
 that. But mediately they may ; as by these seve- 
 rities his mind may be awakened to attend to ar- 
 guments ; thus a rational conviction may be intro- 
 duced : and the rod and reproof may give wisdom. 
 But I confess I cannot see how a man is (he more 
 likely to judge of an argument because lie hears it 
 on the rack, or because he sees the lash, or perhaps 
 tlic sword over his head, and trembles lest he should 
 not believe it. Far from opening the mind to fair 
 conviction, methinks it should rather prejudice a 
 man against it ; as it v.ould give him some aversion 
 even to a draught otherwise agreeable, to have it 
 forced down by sucli methods as a drench is given 
 to a horse. There is, if you will pardon (he ex- 
 pression, a kind of an rlasticify in the liunian minfl ; 
 and the more violently it is pressed down and bent, 
 the more forcibly does it endeavour to expand itself 
 again. But if this were to be put out of the ques- 
 tion, we may depend upon it that none will ever 
 have the better opinion of any religion because it 
 makes its professors very bad men ; and so they 
 will undoubtedly think their persecutors to be. 
 
!)6t 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 Nay, iiuloed, I should rather think that if they 
 were pretty well satisfied in tlic roliRion of their 
 country before, the very thought of its being de- 
 fended and obtruded on by others in this brutish 
 and unnatural way, would be enough to raise some 
 seeict suspieions to its disadvantage :* suspicions 
 w hich pcrliaps niight prevail, and impress the mind 
 more strongly, where men were not allowed to give 
 any vent to them ; or even to propose their doubts, 
 lest it should be looked upon as a crafty way of 
 insinuating their heresies, and should be a word 
 spoken against tlicir estates, or perhaps against 
 their lives. On the whole, as yon have often been 
 told, persecution is much more likely to make men 
 hypocrites than sincere converts. They may per- 
 haps, if they have not a firm integrity and heroic 
 courage, change their profession, while they retain 
 their sentiments ; and, supposing them before to 
 have been unwarily in the wrong, may learn, I will 
 not say to barter away honesty for truth, (though 
 that were a traffic w hich no wise man would covet,) 
 but rather to add falsehood and villany to error. 
 How glorious a prize after all ! especially when we 
 consider at what an expense it is gained. Which 
 leads me to add, 
 
 4. That persecution evidently tends to produce 
 a great deal of mischief and confusion in the 
 world. 
 
 It may truly be said, where persecution is, and 
 that zeal and rage which is inseparable from it, 
 there is confusion, and every evil work. It is mis- 
 chievous to those on whom it falls, and in its con- 
 sequences mischievous to others too ; so mischiev- 
 ous, that one would wonder, that any wise princes 
 should ever have admitted it into their dominions ; 
 or that they should not immediately banish it 
 thence. This follows, in part, from what I said 
 under the former head of my discourse : even where 
 it succeeds so far, as to produce a change in men's 
 forms of worship, it generally makes them no more 
 than hypocritical professors of what they do not 
 believe ; and this must undoubtedly debauch their 
 characters : so that having been villains in one re- 
 spect, it is very probable they will be so in another; 
 and having brought deceit and falsehood into their 
 religion, thej will easily bring it into their conver- 
 sation and commerce. 
 
 This effect persecution will have where it is 
 yielded to. In other respects, it will be yet more 
 immediately and apparently mischievous where it 
 is opposed. And it is probable it will be often op- 
 posed, by those who have certainly a title to the 
 greatest protection and favour of the government ; 
 I mean upright and conscientious men. An honest 
 mind, zealous for what it apprehends to be the 
 
 ♦ I f tliere be on earth a way to render the most sacred truth sus. 
 )iccled, It is eupportiiiE; it with threats, and pretending to terrify men 
 into the belief of it. Shafts. Char. Vol. III. p. 107. 
 
 cause of truth, and animated by the thoughts of the 
 divine presence and protection, will learn to say of 
 bonds and imprisonments, and even of tortures, as 
 St. Paul did. None of those things move me, in 
 such a cau.se, neither count I my life dear unto me. 
 As Mr. Boyle very justly and finely expresses it :f 
 " Personal suflcrings, which a well-meaning man 
 undergoes for his conscience, are but such a kind of 
 burthen to his mind, as feathers to an eagle or a 
 falcon ; which though in themselves considered 
 they have a weight, in the situation in which they 
 are placed about him, enable him to soar towards 
 heaven, and to reach a height which makes him 
 praised and wondered at by beholders." Nay, 
 perhaps where there is no true religion, a native 
 sen.se of honour in a generous mind may encourage 
 it to endure some hardships for the cause of truth : 
 not to say, that sometimes on the principles we 
 hinted above, " obstinacy may rise as the under- 
 standing is oppressed, and continue its oppo.sition, 
 for a while, merely to avenge the cause of its in- 
 jured liberty." | 
 
 And it is further to be remembered, that where 
 the persecution is not very extreme, and sometimes 
 even where it is, spectators are brought to judge 
 more favourably of the cause thus violently op- 
 posed, when they observe the fortitude with which 
 the patrons of it endure hardships and severities, 
 from which they might otherwise deliver themselves 
 at so easy a rate. Thus Tcrtullian boasts to Sca- 
 pula, under all the butcheries he exercised at Car- 
 thage ; " Our sect (says he) is built up by your 
 endeavours to destroy it. The very sight of our 
 patience in sufferings awakens men's consciences 
 to inquire into the cause of it ; and that inquiry 
 leads them to discover the truth, and embrace it, 
 even though it expose them to the same suffer- 
 ings." § This made the blood of the martyrs, what 
 it was so often called, the seed of the church. And 
 sometliing of the same spirit has appeared in suc- 
 ceeding ages. Now in proportion to the degree in 
 which a prohibited religion spreads, persecution 
 must spread and propagate itself, and its desola- 
 tions. And at this rate, if the persecution be se- 
 vere, (as it must be in order to a victory,) how many 
 persons, how many families, must be undone by it? 
 For it is apparent, that in many instances what one 
 suffers for the case of his conscience, draws ruin 
 on a family, perhaps on many families dependent 
 on him, wherein some may hardly know their right 
 hand from their left. I might also mention the 
 encouragement hereby given to informers, who 
 generally in such cases are the vilest and most in- 
 famous of mankind : and might di.scourse copiously 
 
 + Occas. Medit. p. 147. i Ludolph's Ethiop. p. 3.58. 
 
 5 Ncc tamcn deficiet haec secta quam tunc magis a;dificari sciascum 
 cirdi vidctur. ftuisque enim tantam tolerantiam spectans, ut aliquo 
 scrupulo percussus ct inquirere accenditur, quid sit in causa, et ubi 
 rognoverit veritatem, cl ipse stalim sequitur. Tert. ad Scap. ad fin. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 965 
 
 oil tlic animosities hereby raised amongst neigh- 
 bours, on the discouragement of honest industry, 
 and the injury done to trade and commerce.* But 
 I rather choose to refer these and many more cala- 
 mities, which stream forth from this bitter fountain, 
 to your own reflection, which may easily enlarge on 
 the melancholy subject. 
 
 Now when so much must be sacrificed to public 
 orthodoxy and uniformity, who can wonder if such 
 a degree of oppression make a wise man mad, and 
 force multitudes into desperate measures, most 
 destructive to the community ? Who can wonder if 
 an injured and persecuted people rise up, I will not 
 say in rebellion, for it deserves not that infamous 
 name, but in a just and generous vindication of their 
 liberties ; and even when the event is most hazard- 
 ous, choose rather to die warm with their swords in 
 their hands, than to perish perhaps by the artificial 
 cruelties of a lingering execution, or to starve in 
 the darkness and solitude of a dungeon ? 
 
 How many wars, and how great confusions, have 
 by this means arisen in Great Britain, Ireland, 
 France, Germany, the Low Countries, and various 
 other places, even since the opening of the Reform- 
 ation, it is not for a few moments, or indeed a few 
 hours, to recount. But I take it for granted, that 
 few of you are entirely unacquainted with these 
 things, which make up one of the most instructive, 
 though at the same time the most melancholy, parts 
 of history. As the consequence of all, it has gene- 
 rally been found both at home and abroad, that 
 ecclesiastical and civil tyranny has been either 
 established or expelled together ; and that wherever 
 this dragon has kept its seat, it has devoured the 
 glory of the land around it, and heaped infamy and 
 misery on its inhabitants. It has marked its way 
 by desolations ; so that one may well apply to the 
 bands of persecutors, what Joel says of the armies 
 ' of locusts and caterpillars, when the country is like 
 the garden of Eden before them, it is behind them 
 a desolate wilderness. And surely were not the 
 remainder of their wrath to be restrained, religion 
 and truth would be buried in the ruins. Which 
 I leads me to add, 
 
 5. The Christian religion, which we here suppose 
 to be the cause of truth, must, humanly speaking, 
 be not only obstructed but destroyed, should perse- 
 cuting principles universally prevail. 
 
 Let us for argument's sake suppose, what I am 
 sure we have no reason to believe, that in some 
 particular countries it might be a means of pro- 
 moting and establishing the purity of the Gospel, 
 
 * I doulit not but on this occasion many of my readers will recollect, 
 \ tliat the Dutch were some of the first proteKtaiit states ulnch allowed 
 a universiil toleration ; to which, as Sir William Temple most justly 
 olwerves, "they owe the eoiiliuued and nndisturlied peace o( their 
 government, and the michty increase of their people ; wherein will 
 appear to consist chiefly Ihev.xst growth of their tradeaud riches; anil 
 conset|uentiy, the strength and greatness of their stale." Temple's IVe- 
 thert. c. V. p. 20H. 
 
 yet it must surely be a great impediment to its 
 progress. What wise prince who was a heathen or 
 a Mahometan, would ever admit Christian preach- 
 ers, if he knew that it was a principle of their reli- 
 gion, that as soon as the majority of the people 
 were converted by arguments, the rest, and himself 
 amongst them, if he continued obstinate, must be 
 proselyted or extirpated by fire and sword? Surely 
 if this were known to be the case, the secular power 
 would at once seize on such missionaries as public 
 enemies, and condemn the whole sect on this single 
 tenet, whatever their other doctrines or precepts 
 might be. 
 
 Nay further, if it be, as the advocates for perse- 
 cution generally suppose, a dictate of the law of 
 nature, that the true religion is to be propagated by 
 the sword, then it is certain that a Mahometan or 
 an idolater with the same notion, supposing himself 
 to have truth on his side, (as no doubt many of them 
 do suppose, and also admitting the principle we 
 contest,) must think himself obliged in conscience, 
 if he have an opportunity to do it, to arm his powers 
 for the extirpation of Christianity. Thus a holy 
 war must commence over the face of the whole 
 earth, in which nothing but a miracle could render 
 Christians successful against so vast a dispropor- 
 tion in numbers. Now I think it hard to believe 
 that to be a truth, which would naturally lead to 
 the extirpation of truth in the world ; or that a 
 divine religion should carry in its bowels the 
 principle of its own destruction. 
 
 If these reasonings be admitted, then persecution 
 will by the light of nature appear so absurd, so un- 
 just, and so mischievous a thing, that it ought to be 
 rejected with abhorrence ; unless it should be war- 
 ranted and required by a divine revelation, whiclt 
 had such degrees of evidence as should be sufficient 
 to overbalance that strong objection against it, 
 which would arise fronj the consideration we have 
 now been urging. But on this head we need have 
 no apprehension, for I am to show you, 
 
 G. That persecution is so far from being required 
 or encouraged by the gospel, that it is most directly 
 contrary to many of its precepts, and indeed to the 
 whole genius of it. 
 
 A Mahometan may perhaps prove from his Alco- 
 ran, f that the true faith is to be propagated by the 
 sword, and that heretics and unbelievers are to be 
 cut off" or made tributary ; but if a Christian plead 
 in favour of persecution, while he has his New 
 Testament in his hand, in an intelligilile language, 
 he must be condemned out of his ow n mouth. It is 
 condemned by the example of Christ, who went 
 about doing good, who came not to destroy men's 
 lives, but to save them ; who waved the exercise of 
 his miraculous power against his enemies, not only 
 in this instance in the text, but even when they 
 
 + Alcoran, cap. 2, 4, ad pass. 
 
 II 
 
000 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 most unjustly and cruelly assaulted liiiii ; and novcr 
 exerted it in one single instance that we read of, to 
 inflict death or any corporal punishment even on 
 those who had almost justly deserved it; his doc- 
 trine also, as well as his example, has taught us 
 to be harmless as doves, to love our enenues, to do 
 {tood to tliem that hate ns, and to pray for tliem that 
 despilefully use us and persecute us. And will a 
 maxim like that allow iis to persecute others ? 
 When Peter desired leave to smite witli the sword, 
 though drawn in so just a cause, Christ commanded 
 him to put it up in its sheath again ; and he de- 
 clared before Pilate, that his kingdom was not of 
 this world ; w liich he expressly mentions as a rea- 
 son why he did not arm secular power to plant or 
 to defend it. 
 
 As for the apostles, they declared, agreeably to 
 the example and precepts of their Master, that the 
 power they had received was for edification, and not 
 for destruction, that the weapons of their warfare 
 were not carnal, and that the servant of the Lord, 
 the Christian minister, was not to strive, but in 
 meekness to instruct those wlio opposed themselves. 
 They inculcated it as of the highest importance, 
 that religion must be a reasonable service, and that 
 bodily exercise, which is the utmost jjcrsccution 
 can extort, profited but little, and was a tiling of a 
 most difl'erent nature from true godliness. That the 
 strong ought to bear witli the infirmities of the ;veak. 
 And in a word, that Christians must in the whole of 
 tlicir conversation be harmless, as well as holy and 
 undcfiled, in the midst of a crooked and perverse 
 generation, shining amongst them, by these amiable 
 examples, as lights in the world, and so hold fortli 
 the word of life. 
 
 You well know, that these passages are but a 
 little specimen of those which might be produced 
 on such an occasion. Most prudently therefore do 
 the popish clergy wrest the New Testament out of 
 the hands of their people, before they venture to 
 arm them w ith a sword, to destroy others for their 
 religious opinions. 
 
 These are the principal arguments against perse- 
 cution which have occurred to my mind. You 
 easily see they are chiefly pointed at high severities ; 
 but if you consider tliem attentively, you will find 
 that they proportionably conclude against every 
 degree of it, not excepting the lightest pecuniary 
 fines, or civil incapacities. I am, 
 
 III. To touch on the chief arguments which are 
 urged in defence of penal laws enacted for the pre- 
 tended security and advancement of religion. 
 
 Persecution is so harsh and so infamous a word, 
 that few will defend it. But under this milder 
 name they maintain the thing, by pleading the 
 glory of God and the good of mankind, (sacred 
 prostituted names,) the penal laws of the Jewish 
 constitution, and a few tortured passages of the 
 
 New Testament ; which one would think mentioned 
 to expose the cause, rather than seriously to serve it. 
 
 1. The glory of God is generally pleaded as an 
 apology for persecution. 
 
 The time is come, when those that slay his ser- 
 vants are supposing they ofler him an acceptable 
 service. " God, say they, is the God of truth ; 
 and therefore the cause of trutli is his cause ; and 
 the magistrate, who is in his sphere the minister of 
 God, is to be a nursing father to his church, and to 
 point the sword he has received from him against 
 those impious persons, who will no otherwise be 
 restrained from perverting the right ways of the 
 Lord." 
 
 Now it is most evident, this is taking for granted 
 tlie innocence and morality of the thing in the 
 general, as well as the infallibility of the magis- 
 trate, or of the priest, whose executioner he must 
 be. But if, as we have endeavoured to prove above, 
 persecution in general is contrary to the light of 
 nature, and to the Christian revelation, it must be 
 great impiety to pretend to consecrate it to the 
 divine glory. And a man might on the same prin- 
 ciple lie and plunder, or even murder, his neigh- 
 bour, could he but persuade himself that God would 
 be honoured, as the truth might be promoted by it ; 
 and take it for granted, that the goodness of the 
 end must sanctify the badness of the means. Paul 
 evidently determines the matter otherwise, when 
 he introduces a man as excusing his own lie, by its 
 tendency to promote the truth of God ; and over- 
 rules that plea by observing, that if it were allowed, 
 we might do evil that good may come. Which 
 he accounted so abominable a maxim, that he says 
 that the damnation of such is just. 
 
 Yet, after all, if the preceding arguments were to 
 be waved, and we were to begin our inquiry with 
 examining what would be most for the glory of 
 God, and the advancement of truth, I am fully 
 persuaded that persecution, instead of being esta- 
 blislied, must, on this foundation, be exploded and 
 condemned. For, not to repeat what I said above, 
 of the improbability of fixing any rational convic- 
 tion by this means ; it is plainly a dishonour to 
 truth, and therefore to God, to suppose, that it 
 needs the supports of secular terrors, and that its 
 enemies must be suppressed by violence. We 
 then sanctify the Lord our God in our hearts, when 
 we are ready to give an answer to those that inciuire 
 into the foundations of our religion, and our hope, 
 with meekness and fear; and when wc use those 
 methods with others, which are Jikely most eflect- 
 ually to engage them to render him a rational 
 service. But when we drag men to his altars, as 
 unwilling victims, and attempt to bind them other- 
 wise than with the cords of a man, and the bonds 
 of love, he may surely reject our forward and 
 officious zeal, as an affront; and say. Who has 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS, 
 
 967 
 
 required tbese things at your hands? The same 
 answer will, in a great measure, serve for the secojul 
 plea in favour of persecution : which is, 
 
 2. That it may tend to promote the happiness of 
 mankind. 
 
 If we will believe those, who have sometimes a 
 crocodile's tear to shed over those whom they are 
 devouring, all the severity they use to men's bodies 
 is in mere mercy to their souls. But it is hard to 
 say, how this can be an argument for putting them 
 to death, in what they call a damnable error; as an 
 ill-natured man may call any error, and an inqui- 
 sitor must, of course, call that which he makes 
 capital. I know they will answer, it is for the 
 good of others, that they may be deterred from the 
 like pestilent heresy. But I endeavoured to show 
 before, that such a course was much more likely to 
 prejudice, and to exasperate, and to debauch men's 
 minds, than to recover or secure them. And here 
 their most plausible answer is, that though it should 
 be granted, that the first converts of violence are 
 insincere, yet at least succeeding generations, being 
 educated in the bosom of the church, and the forms 
 of the true religion, may cordially imbibe it, even 
 to their everlasting salvation. A rich equivalent, 
 as some may think, for present inconveniences (o 
 others ! But I see not that we can be obliged to 
 introduce so much confusion and misery in our 
 own days, out of regard to posterity, any more than 
 to burn up the produce of our own fields and plant- 
 ations, that the ashes may meliorate the soil, and 
 render it more fruitful to these that cofne after us. 
 If such an expedient were not likely to answer 
 even that end, it illustrates the subject so much the 
 more. For we may naturally expect to find, in the 
 hearts of children, a deep resentment of the wrong 
 done to their parents, and even to their remoter 
 ancestors : nor is it any uncommon case at all, for 
 
 I an aversion or attachment to particular notions and 
 forms, to prove hereditary ; especially when young 
 persons, so exceedingly jealous of their liberty, as 
 at their age they are, apprehend a religion to be 
 
 i forced upon them, contrary to that which their 
 ancestors bravely defended, at the expense of their 
 estates and their lives ; or which they unwillingly 
 seemed to renounce, for the preservation of them. 
 It is exceeding probable, that the penal laws, by 
 which idolatry was imposed on the Jews, in some 
 years of the Babylonish captivity, might contribute 
 greatly to give them that aversion to it, which has 
 been transmitted through so many following ages. 
 And the contempt, whicii both the Spaniards and 
 Portuguese put on those whom they call new Chris- 
 tians, (that is, whose ancestors, most of them above 
 two hundred years ago,* were obliged by violence 
 to profess Christianity,) seems plainly to intimate, 
 
 * The Mori^cos were expelled Spain, A. D. 1492, and the inn^li^i• 
 tion erected ahoiit four years after. 
 
 that they secretly suspect them to be Jews or 
 Mahometans in their hearts, as many of them de- 
 clare themselves to be, when they escape into a land 
 of liberty. f 
 
 Yet, perhaps, many of more pious dispositions, 
 and more tender tempers than those of whom I have 
 been now speaking, may be ready to plead, that 
 unlimited toleration will leave room for writing and 
 publishing the most pernicious books ; whereby the 
 principles of young and unexperienced minds may 
 easily be corrupted, and heresy and profaneness 
 introduced into the rising generation ; and with it 
 that licentiousness of practice, which generally 
 attends such an apostasy from the truth. 
 
 I acknowledge, that the plea seems to have a con- 
 siderable weight ; but I desire it may be seriously 
 examined, whether the mischief of su("h a restraint 
 be not yet greater than the advantages of it ? Might 
 not the most excellent and useful writings of the 
 best men be suppressed on this principle ? Nay, is 
 it not on this principle, that the Bible itself is pro- 
 hibited in popish countries 1 Some inconveniences 
 arise from every imaginable constitution : it is the 
 part of wisdom to choose that which is attended by 
 the fewest and the least, and to apply the most 
 proper remedies to them. If toleration be abused, 
 as the means of sowing tares amongst the wheat, 
 let it teach all, and especially those who have the 
 care of young persons, to be so much the more 
 watchful over their charge, to keep them out of the 
 way of infection, or to furnish them with proper 
 antidotes against it. But let not those, who would 
 approve themselves the patrons of truth, act as if 
 they thought religion such a scandalous cause, that 
 it must sufl'er by the freedom of inquiry, and could 
 only be safe under the covert of darkness. 
 
 On the whole, let the friends of the truth fairly 
 propose its evidences, and show its induence too, 
 by the candour of their temper, and the benevolence 
 and usefulness of their lives; and if its enemies 
 raise objections, as against what cause may not 
 objcclions be raised ! let us give them a fair con- 
 sideration, and endeavour to expose the sophistry 
 and weakness of them, in a plain, rational, and con- 
 vincing manner, in the spirit of meekness and 
 serenity. We may then hope, thiough the concur- 
 rent influences of divine grace, that the souls of 
 men will be established, even by the attempts made 
 
 + It is very remarkable to this purpose, tliat Orobio the Jew, in his 
 riiiiftrerice with l.imborch, freely acknowledges, that, in Spain and 
 Portnjal, all the tnonasteries and nunneries are full of Jews: that 
 many canons, inquisitors, and bishops, bein;^ descended from Jewish 
 parents, are still Jews in their hearts; though, for temporal advan- 
 laf;es, they profess to be Christians. Some of these, he says, repent, 
 and, if they can, escape into other countries ; of which he himself was 
 one; who confesses, he had often complied with the idolatries of the 
 place — Kko <|ui toties miser nenna liaali llexi, peccatum mcum ego 
 recordor, &c. Jnd, Script. Test. No. 4. pa;;e 102. And l.imborch 
 afterwards declares, that Orobio had himself owned, that the Jews in 
 Spain are lauj;ht by their parents, that, in in ili r to escape the in()uisi. 
 tion, it is lawful to profess Christianity, while they deny it in their 
 hearts; and to confirm that profession by swearin;^ on the cross, and 
 by eating swine's Hesh, iic. Limb. Resp, ad Sctip. III. cap. V. page 
 178. 
 
968 
 
 SKRMONS. 
 
 to pervert them ; and that, in another sense than 
 the apostle orifjinally intended tiie phrase, the trial 
 of that faitl), w hich is far more precious tlian tlie 
 purest g;old, (whieh, in suceeedin<!: ao;es, perishes 
 and wears out, though it have been tried in tlic fire,) 
 will be found to praise and g:lory. And if (whieh 
 may very probably be the case) some who will 
 eagerly listen to every objection nfjainst the truth, 
 w ill not have the patience to hear or examine its 
 defence, we must leave them to the linal judgmcnl 
 of him, who searches the hearts, and tries the reins 
 of the children of men. With so dishonest a temper, 
 a name, or a form, whatever it had been, could 
 have done them but very little good. It is impos- 
 sible for us to save men against their own wills ; 
 and I cannot see, that it will be any part of Chris- 
 tian charity, to put out their eyes, or tie up their 
 hands, lest they should use them to the injury of 
 themselves or others. 
 
 If any should pretend that we are to punisli 
 heretics and infidels, that we may not make our- 
 .scivcs partakers of other men's sins, and draw 
 down the judgments of God on the nation in which 
 we live : I answer, that this argument so evidently 
 takes it for granted, that persecution is for the 
 glory of God, and will be a proper expedient for 
 promoting the true religion, that what I liave said, 
 under the former heads, is an abundant answer to 
 it. I shall not, therefore, enlarge on this as a dis- 
 tinct topic, but proceed to another of much greater 
 importance. 
 
 3. The most plausible argument in favour of the 
 doctrine we oppose, is taken from the penal laws, 
 which made a part of the Jewish constitution. 
 
 It is urged here, that God did, in the strongest 
 terms, expressly appoint, that all who taught or 
 practised idolatry amongst the Jews, should be 
 punished with death ; and that many severe execu- 
 tions were accordingly done on this statute : not only 
 by the prophet Elijah, an extraordinary divine mes- 
 senger, but likewise by Jehu, and Josiah, and other 
 princes amongst them ; who, far from being cen- 
 sured, were applauded and rewarded on this account. 
 
 If we answer here, as we most easily and natu- 
 rally do, that the merciful genius of the Christian 
 dispensation is so dillcrent froni the rigour and 
 severity of the Mosaic law, that no argument can 
 be drawn from one to the other : it is pleaded, that 
 this w ill at least serve to overthrow the greater part 
 of our discourse, which was intended to prove the 
 natural absurdity and immorality of persecution ; 
 unless we will allow, what surely no Christian can, 
 that a natural immorality was made an essential 
 part of a divine institution. 
 
 It will be proper, therefore, to examine this mat- 
 ter a little more largely ; which I shall the rather do, 
 because I think it has seldom been handled with 
 the accuracy which it requires. Now, I apprehend, 
 
 the solution of this difficulty will <lepend on con- 
 sidering, on the one hand, the limitations attending 
 these penal laws; and, on the other, the peculiar 
 circumstances of the Jews, to whom they were given. 
 
 1. Let us consider the limitations which attended 
 these penal laws. 
 
 Tiicy alfcctcd only the inhabitants of the land of 
 Canaan ; and animadverted only on some overt act, 
 whereby they publicly declared a revolt from God 
 to idols. 
 
 There was no commission given to the Jews, to 
 arm themselves for the propagation of their faith 
 amongst their heathen neighbours ; nor was there 
 any express law to pursue any Israelite with the 
 sword, who, settling among idolaters in foreign 
 countries, should conform to the religion of them. 
 Though, for reasons afterwards to be mentioned, 
 his part in the land of Israel would undoubtedly have 
 been forfeited. And, it is further to be remembered, 
 that even with regard to the inhabitants themselves, 
 the law only took cognizance of some overt act of 
 revolt. Had God given a large confession of faith 
 to the Jews, to every article of which he had re- 
 quired them, on some high penalties, to subscribe 
 their assent, a much stronger objection against 
 what I have advanced would have arisen froni such 
 a constitution. But this was so far from being the 
 case, that the Sadducees, erroneous as they were 
 in some of the most important articles of natural, 
 as well as revealed, religion, were not only tole- 
 rated, but, without any direct violation of the Mosaic 
 law, were frequently promoted to offices of liigh 
 dignity and authority. Now there is a most evi- 
 dent difl'erence between a law thus limited, and an 
 universal allowance of religious severities, to Jews 
 or others, in any such circumstance as they should 
 think fit. And, were tiie particular reasons ever so 
 unknown, the former might be allowed, as con- 
 sistent with the divine perfections, without laying a 
 foundation to infer that the latter might be so. As 
 there was an apparent diflerence between God's 
 rcfjuiring Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, and his pub- 
 lishing a general declaration, allowing any parents 
 whatsoever to sacrifice their children, whenever 
 they should suppose that the glory of God, and the 
 interest of religion, would be advanced by it. 
 Thus the limitation of these penal laws destroys 
 the argument wliicli miglit be drawn from them, in 
 favour of persecution in general. And, if it slill 
 appear a difiiculty, that, even with these limitations, 
 they should be enacted, I hope the point may be 
 yet more fully cleared up, by considering, 
 
 2. The peculiar circumstances whereby the Jews 
 were distinguished from all other people. 
 
 Now here, the extraordinary discoveries which 
 God made of himself amongst them, and the pe- 
 culiar manner in which he stood related to them, 
 as their King, concur both to vindicate the equity 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 of the laws in question, and to prove tliat no reason- 
 able consequence can be drawn from them, in 
 favour of persecution, in any other nation upon 
 earth. 
 
 It is surely of some importance, to recollect the 
 extraordinary discoveries which God had made of 
 himself to them, though the whole stress of the 
 point does not lie here. The miracles which he 
 had wrought amongst them, in order to prove his 
 deity, and the vanity of idols, were of the most 
 awakening and convincing nature ; and these were 
 not only delivered to them by credible report, as 
 they are now delivered to us ; but God was, from 
 age to age, raising up prophets, with a power of 
 renewing these wonders before their eyes. Nay, 
 he had interwoven into their constitution certain 
 periodical, and most extensive and obvious miracles, 
 not only in the extraordinary fruitfulness of every 
 sixth year ; (when, after the ground had been ex- 
 hausted in the five preceding years, the poorest 
 harvest must naturally have been expected;) but 
 also in the safety of their borders, though surround- 
 ed with enemies, when all the males were gone up 
 to worship, even in the very heart of their country, 
 as they were obliged to do three times in the year, 
 between the beginning of March and the end of 
 September, which is the most proper time for armies 
 to be abroad. 
 
 Now God, the searcher of all hearts, might 
 know, that nothing but obstinate and incorrigible 
 wickedness could make a man an idolater in such 
 circumstances as these. And consequently, he 
 might righteously condemn him to death, and ap- 
 point his fellow-creatures to execute the sentence. 
 But no argument can be drawn from thence for 
 inflicting the like punishment on another person, 
 who is not as expressly sentenced by the divine 
 law, and whose opportunities of better knowledge 
 are not, and cannot be, entirely the same. 
 
 But it is further to be considered, as of the ut- 
 most weight in the present argument, that God also 
 stood in a peculiar relation to the people of Israel, 
 as he was their temporal King, as well as their 
 God. Their government, as you well know, was 
 difl'erent from that of all other nations : it was in- 
 deed a Theocracy, as Josephus very justly calls it; 
 their whole system of civil laws being enacted by 
 God, and tlu ir magistrates appointed by him. And 
 when they came to have kings, as other nations had, 
 yet even these kings were to be considered but as 
 the viceroys of God : as appears by their being 
 obliged to transcribe his law, when they begun 
 their reign ; to consult his oracle on all extraordi- 
 nary exigences ; and from his interposing in vari- 
 I ous cases, both in Judah and Israel, to transfer the 
 ' lown from one person and family to another. 
 
 Now, in consequence of this peculiar system of 
 government, God thought it proper, as it apparently 
 
 was, to annex certain temporal privileges to their 
 obedience to him ; and they held their estates and 
 possessions in the fine country they inhabited, nOt 
 by one ab-olute donation to them, and their heirs 
 for ever ; but through succeeding generations, as 
 tenants to the crown, upon an express condition of 
 certain homages to be paid to God, as the great 
 proprietor ; renouncing all dependence upon, and 
 all subjection to, any of his competitors. Now it 
 was plainly equitable, that, as the counterpart of 
 these advantages, they should be subjected to some 
 peculiar temporal punishments ; if, while they 
 claimed these privileges, they falsified that allegi- 
 ance which was the condition of them ; in which 
 case they suiTered, not merely as idolaters, but as 
 traitors. 
 
 I will further add, that as God was determined, 
 in the course of his providence, to send national 
 judgments upon them, in case of a national revolt 
 to idolatry, w-hich he accordingly always did, it 
 was a merciful as well as just severity, thus to 
 animadvert upon the first appearances of this 
 aggravated crime, to which they were strongly 
 inclined ; and by which, if it prevailed amongst 
 them, they must be universally undone. 
 
 But as all these circumstances were peculiar to 
 the Jews, I hope you are, by this time, fully con- 
 vinced, that it is absurd to draw arguments in 
 favour of religious severities in general, from the 
 penal laws of the Mosaic institution.* I have been 
 so large on this head, that I must only hint at 
 those weak and contemptible arguments which are 
 brought, 
 
 4. From some abused passages in the New Testa- 
 ment. 
 
 And indeed I should hardly mention them, but to 
 expose them ; and to show to what wretched straits 
 ingenious and interested men must be brought, 
 when they will condescend to make use of such 
 arguments : for, after all, to their shame I must 
 say, the chief texts which I find produced for their 
 purpose, by popish writers, are two ; w hich I am 
 persuaded, a wise and honest man might have read 
 a thousand times before he had ever dreamt of such 
 a consequence from them. Christ gave Peter a 
 commission to feed his sheep ; and that must, say 
 some, imply a power in the church, and especially 
 in the pope, as the head of it, to kill wolves, that 
 is, heretics. As if an argument, from this figurative 
 expression, to so di.stant a circumstance, could be 
 allowed against such strong evidence, both of 
 Scripture and reason. But I must do them the 
 
 * I li.ive not mentioned the .nrgumcnt which some have brnnght 
 from Joh*s sayinjr, that idolatry is a wirkediicsR to be punislied by the 
 jiiil),'e, Jobxxxi.2H. bei anse it is so evident, that Job s|>.il(e unadvisedly 
 witli liis lips ill some instances, as he hiniselt owns, Job xl. .'i— 8 ; xhi. 
 .'! — (;. And I tliink, if we f^raiit there were in liis days sneb a law in 
 Arabia, as made idolatry capital, it can never be proved of divine 
 institution from tliese words, any more than it can be arj^iied from 
 Jiidah's sentence af^^aiiist Tamar, (iieu. xxxviii, 24.) tliat there was 
 then a divine law for executing women while they were big with child. 
 
970 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 juslicc lo say, their piand argrumpnt is hchind ; and 
 it is couched in lliose words, Compel them to come 
 in. But. Mliat compulsion and violence must be 
 oflcred to tlicsc words, before they will be of any 
 service in tlic cause of persecution ! How often 
 liave tliey been told, that tliis relates only to friendly 
 importunity, like that whidi the disciples used to 
 engage Christ to spend the evening with them at 
 Emmaus, when, as the cvan<;clist expresses it, they 
 constrained him? And how absurd it would be to 
 suppose servants sent out y\ ith sword in hand to 
 force in guests to an entertainment, I think you will 
 easily apprehend.* Another arpfument, a little more 
 specious than eitlier of these, mifjht be brought from 
 the corporal punishments indicted on blasphemers 
 in the apostle's times ; but it is to be considered 
 that these were the effects of a miraculous power, 
 and consequently had a proper tendency to convince 
 the understanding of the sufferers and spectators, of 
 the divine mission of those with whom the hand of 
 the Lord thus remarkably was. It is therefore most 
 a1)surd to talk of substituting the power of the 
 magistrate instead of these extraordinary penalties, 
 unless the magistrate can inllict them the same 
 way ; and then we w ill acknowledge they merit not 
 the name of persecution, but come under that 
 singular exception which we admitted in the begin- 
 ning of the discourse. 
 
 1 have the pleasure to assure you, that these 
 wretched arguments, or rather empty shadows of 
 argument, are the most material whieli I have seen 
 produced from the New Testament in favour of re- 
 ligious severities. It is the glory of that sacred 
 book, th'at it affords no better arguments in so in- 
 famous a cause. And I cannot forbear observing, 
 that tlie silence of the New Testament on this head 
 is a strong argume-.it against persecution, and would 
 have been so, had the apostles omitted the many 
 passages before quoted, in which they seem directly 
 to oppose it. 
 
 I know it may be said, the sacred writers did not 
 advise the primitive Christians to use violence, be- 
 cause their religion was tlien in its infancy, and they 
 had no power in their hands. Yet, one would 
 imagine, that if the apostles would have approved 
 tliemselves honest men on the scheme we oppose, 
 they should have laid in some directions for future 
 times, and have instructed Christians in the use of 
 their secular power, when it was obtained ; as the 
 Jew's were particularly directed in the management 
 of theirs. Especially since this is a case in which 
 the wrath of man, which worketh not the righteous- 
 ness of God, is so ready to throw about firebrands, 
 arrows, and death. 
 
 * T think tlie word avayKai^u) ocriirs but nine timc^ in the New 
 Testament, M.itt. xiv, 22. iMark vi. 45 Lnke xii. 23 Acts xxvi. 2; 
 xxviii. 19. 2 Cur. xii. II. fJal. ii. 3, M ; vi. 12. It is only in tlie fiinrlh 
 and fifth of these iilares, that it ran refer tu the jise of sernlar power. 
 nap<i/3iafo/iai is used twice, Luke xxiv. 29. Acts xv i. l.'j. and in both 
 tho»e places can signify no more than friendly importunity. 
 
 Nor will it here be improper to remind you, that 
 there was at least one prince converted to Ciiris- 
 tianity in the apostles' time ; I mean Sergius 
 Paulus, proconsul of Cyprus : yet we do not find 
 St. Paul exhorting him to proselyte his subjects by 
 violence, or even to inflict any penalties on Elymas 
 the sorcerer, tlioiigh he had been convicted of error 
 in so miraculous a way, and though an inspired 
 apostle had called him, in his presence, a child of 
 the devil, and an enemy of all righteousness. 
 
 I must also add here, that it is well known mas- 
 ters amongst the Greeks and Romans had an un- 
 limited power over the persons and lives of their 
 slaves. Now if corporal severities were ordinarily 
 to have been used to promote the gospel, we might 
 liave expected that the apostles writing, as they 
 so often do, of the duty of masters, should have 
 added some exhortations to tliem to compel their 
 slaves to embrace it. Yet nothing of that kind 
 occurs, which I think makes the negative arguments 
 as strong as one can well suppose a negative argu- 
 ment to be. 
 
 IV. I must conclude my discourse with touching 
 on those reflections which I have left myself but 
 little time to enlarge upon. 
 
 1 . Let us bless God that we are free from the guilt 
 of persecuting others, and the misery of being per- 
 secuted ourselves. 
 
 Had we been born in Spain or Portugal, educa- 
 tion and example might have corrupted our judg- 
 ment so much, that without further inquiry we 
 might have taken it for granted, as a first principle, 
 (as many there seem to do,) that heretics are to be 
 punished witli death. And on this foundation we 
 might have practised or applauded the greatest in- 
 humanities, perhaps towards the best of raen. We 
 might have been presenting to God what is much 
 worse than robbery, even murder for a burnt-offer- 
 ing ; and trusting in that for the expiation of our 
 other offences, which is itself In tlie number of the 
 greatest enormities which human nature can com- 
 mit. In such a case I fear the blindness and igno- 
 rance of our zeal would not have been allowed as 
 an excuse for its pernicious consequences. St. 
 Paul calls himself the chief of sinners for those se- 
 verities which he exercised on Christians igno- 
 rantly, and while he verily thought that it was his 
 duty to do many things against the name of Jesus 
 of Nazareth. And indeed, as Mr. Baxter well ex- 
 presses It, in his masculine and lively manner, t " If 
 charity be a grace most necessary to salvation, then 
 certainly it w ill not keep any man from damnation, 
 that he had malice and uncharitableness enough to 
 persuade him, that the members of Christ were 
 children of the devil, though he persecuted them 
 under that notion." 
 
 Let us be thankful that we are preserved from 
 
 + Baxt. Pract. Works, Vol. I. page 612. 
 
OCCASIONAL SERMONS. 
 
 971 
 
 that guilt, and let us also acknowledge it as an 
 instance of the divine goodness to us, that we are 
 not suffering by persecution; that we are not plun- 
 dered and banished, or perhaps imprisoned and 
 tortured, for conscience-sake ; and so brought under 
 a formidable temptation, to make shipwreck of that 
 as well as of faith. Let this day remind us of the 
 frequent dangers of this kind to which we have 
 been exposed ; and let us gratefully own God's 
 watchful care over us, and that powerful hand ex- 
 erted in our favour, to which we owe it, that our 
 soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the 
 fo.vlers, which was once and again spread for our 
 lives : the snare is broken and we are escaped. Let 
 the memory of those who were the glorious instru- 
 ments of our deliverance be ever dear to us, and 
 the persons of those who, under God, are the great 
 guardians of our civil and religious liberties, be 
 regarded with becoming reverence, affection, and 
 obedience. 
 
 2. Let us envy none that liberty of conscience 
 ■which they enjoy on such equitable principles. 
 
 While we rejoice in a toleration ourselves, we 
 were inexcusable if we were grieved that many 
 who most widely differ from us share in the same 
 common benefit. A variety of opinions must be 
 expected, and debates will unavoidably arise from 
 it ; but when wc are pressed by the arguments of our 
 opponents, or, it may be, provoked by what we think 
 their obstinacy ; let us not indulge even a secret 
 wish, that there were a sword in our hand to slay 
 them, or a chain to bind them. Far from complain- 
 ing of it as an evil, let us rather rejoice in it as the 
 peculiar glory and happiness of our age and coun- 
 try, perhaps beyond any other, that our neighbours, 
 as well as we, enjoy a freedom of choosing their 
 religion for themselves ; and amidst all the di- 
 versity of that choice, sit every one under his own 
 vine and fig-tree, and have none on that account to 
 make them afraid. 
 
 And I will add, lot not private malice and un- 
 charitableness assume the place of public severities. 
 Let those who are in the superior relations of life, 
 lay aside a rigorous and imposing temper towards 
 those who are under their care. In matters of con- 
 science, let not the husband pretend to determine for 
 the wife, nor the parent for the child, nor the master 
 for the servant ; but if fair argument and love will 
 not fix a conviction on their mind in favour of what 
 we apprehend to be right, let us leave them to wor- 
 ship God in their own way, without absolutely 
 insisting upon it that they should do it rn ours. 
 
 Once more, let not neighbours and equals be 
 severe on one another upon account of religious 
 
 differences, but make the most candid allowances 
 which the case will bear for the errors and weak- 
 nesses of each other. Far from injuring and re- 
 viling each other, and refusing the mutual offices of 
 humanity and friendship, let us study to abound in 
 them more and iL.ore. Let us pray, that if any are 
 otherwise minded, than truth, reason, and Scripture 
 would teach, God would in his own method, and 
 time, reveal unto them whatever it may be of im- 
 portance for them to know ; and in the mean time 
 let us endeavour to act on the great principles of 
 virtue and benevolence, which, blessed be God, are 
 not peculiar to any distinguishing forms of religious 
 profession amongst us. And I heartily pray, that 
 domestic persecution may never be the guilt or the 
 misery of any, who by the laws of our country are 
 protected from public violence. 
 
 Lastly, Let us be very cautious that we do not 
 abuse that religious liberty which, by the singular 
 favour of Providence, we enjoy. 
 
 Let us remember, that as the best blessings may 
 be perverted, it is too possible that even this may 
 be turned info licentiousness. It is true, that our 
 consciences are under no human jurisdiction, but 
 let it be considered they arc not without law, but 
 under law, to God. He who searches men's hearts, 
 knows how to judge of the sincerity and impar- 
 tiality of our inquiries into truth, though none else 
 can do it. Let us therefore be wary in our deter- 
 minations in matters of importance, and let us 
 earnestly pray for the enlightening influences of 
 God's Holy Spirit, to preserve us from erroneous 
 principles, and superstitious worship. 
 
 And, once more, let us be very careful that we 
 do not abuse our religious liberties by trifling with 
 opportunities for spiritual improvement, either ab- 
 senting ourselves from them, or attending them in 
 a careless and unprofitable manner. Let us remem- 
 ber, the servant who knows his master's will, and 
 prepares not himself to act according to it, will be 
 beaten with many stripes. The freest profession of 
 the purest religion on earth will signify nothing, if 
 it be no more than a profession ; and all that zeal 
 for liberty which is consistent with being the slave 
 of sin, is only a natural haughtiness of spirit, which 
 will aggravate a man's guilt rather than extenuate 
 it. The Lord grant that none of us may reject the 
 truth, and that none may hold it in unrighteousness : 
 lest the time come, when we wish for that excuse 
 which they will have, who have known the re- 
 straints and discouragements of persecutions; and 
 another day reflect with horror, even on those re- 
 peated deliverances, for which we are this day 
 returning our public acknowledgments. 
 
HYMNS 
 
 FOUNDED ON 
 
 VARIOUS TEXTS IN THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The author of the following Hymns, well known to the world by many excellent and useful writings, 
 was much solicited by his friends to print them in his life-time, from a hope they might be serviceable to 
 the interest of religion, by assisting the devotion of Christians in tlieir social and secret worship ; and, 
 had God continued his life till his Family Expositor on the Epistles had been published, it is probable 
 he would have complied with their request : but this and many other pious and benevolent purposes were 
 broken off by his much-lamented death. During the last hour I spent with him, a few weeks before that 
 mournful event, he honoured me with some particular directions about transcribing and publishing them. 
 I have at length, through the good hand of my God upon me, finished them, and present them to the world 
 with a cheerful hope, that they will promote and diffuse a spirit of devotion, and, together with otlier as- 
 sistances human and divine, prepare many to join with the devout author in the nobler and everlasting- 
 anthems of heaven. 
 
 These Hymns being composed to be sung after the author had been preaching on the texts prefixed to 
 them, it was his design, that they should bring over again the leading thoughts in the sermon, and natu- 
 rally express and warmly enforce those devout sentiments, which he hoped were then rising in the minds 
 of his hearers, and help to fix them on the memory and heart : accordingly, the attentive reader will 
 observe, that most of them illustrate such sentiments as a skilful preacher would principally insist upon, 
 when discoursing from the texts on which they are founded. There is a great variety in the form of 
 them : some are devout paraphrases on the texts ; others expressive of lively acts of devotion, faith, and 
 trust in God, love to Christ, desire of divine infiuenecs, and good resolutions of cultivating the temper 
 and practising the duties recommended ; others proclaim a humble joy and triumph in the gracious pro- 
 mises and encouragements of Scripture, particularly in the discovery and prospect of eternal life. The 
 nature of the sulyects will easily account for the difference of composure, why some are more plain and 
 artless, others more lively, sublime, and full of poetic fire. If any of them should at first reading appear 
 flat or obscure, it may well be supposed they would affect the mind in a stronger manner, when used in a 
 religious assend)ly after sermons upon tlic texts, in which the ontcxt hath been considered, (if that were 
 necessary,) parallel places compared, the design of the inspired writer judiciously opened, and the beaut}', 
 propriety, and emphasis of the several clauses of the text illustrated : they therefore who use them in their 
 devout retirements, should first read and consider the texts and contexts ; and if they would consult some 
 Expositor upon them, particularly the authoi-'s on the subjects taken from the New Testament, they will 
 see a spirit and elegance in these composures, which may otherwise be overlooked, and be more likely to 
 reap real and lasting advantage by them. 
 
 In this collection there are many hymns formed upon passages in the Old Testament, particularly in 
 the Prophets, directly relating to the case of the Israelites, or some particular good man among them, 
 which the author hath accommodated to the circumstances of Christians, where he thouglit there was a 
 just and natural resemblance ; and he apprehended, that the practice of the inspired writers of the New 
 Testament warranted such accommodations.* He experienced this to be a very acceptable and useful 
 method of preaching on the Old Testament, and accordingly recommended it to his pupils, as what would 
 afford them an opportunity of explaining the design of the prophecies, displaying the wisdom, faithful- 
 ness, and grace of God, and suggesting many striking and important instructions : this method would at 
 the same time occasion an agreeable variety in their discourses, prevent their confining themselves to 
 general or common-place subjects, or (in order to avoid a frequent repctifion of well-known arguments) 
 running into dry and abstruse speculations, which the capacities of the generality of their hearers could 
 not comprehend, nor tlieir hearts relish and feel : a fashion in prea(;hing too prevalent, and, considering 
 its apparent unprofitableness, much to be lamented. 
 
 Those young ministers, who are desirous of entering into the spirit and copiousness of Scripture, may 
 find this work greatly useful to them, by directing tlicm to many very suitable texts, and to some natural 
 thoughts and useful reflections, to be insisted upon in discoursing fiom them. 
 
 Tlierc arc several hynnis in this collection suited to special and extraordinary occasions, for which there 
 was not before a sufficient provision ; sucli as, for opening a new place of worship, the vacancy and set- 
 tlement of churches, the ordination of ministers, their removal from our world, &,c. especially for days of 
 
 • Compare Hebrews xiii. 5, 6, and Family Expositor ill loc. note (e ) There arc also some good remarks on this subject in Dr. Watts's Holi- 
 ness of Timtp, Places, &c. Diss. v. especially Prop. 15. 
 
97G 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 fasting and humiliation on account of actual or apprehended calamities ; the want of which during the 
 late rebellion and \\ ar was much regretted by many ministers and private Christians. 
 
 In these composures 1 hope few low or trivial expressions will be found : nothing appears unsuitable 
 to the gravity and dignity of a worshipping assembly ; nothing likely to darken or damp the devotion of 
 the humble ('hristian, or excite passions merely sensual. There is nothing that savours of a party-spirit, 
 or carries an appearance of designing to confine their use to any of the sects into « liich Christians are 
 unhappily divided. The materials are divine, and the author's soul was never more enlarged, than when 
 be Mas i)romoting a spirit of jiiety and candour in tiicir just connexion. 
 
 I clioose to place these Hymns in the order in which the several texts lie in the Bible, as that prevents 
 the necessity of another index, and there appeared no particular reason for disposing them in any dif- 
 ferent order. In a few places where words occur not siiincicntly intelligible to common readers, I have 
 added some more plain and familiar ones in the margin, that they may be read and sung with under- 
 standing ; preferring this method to that of some authors, who have collected and explained them in a 
 particular index. 
 
 As these Hymns were composed daring a series of many years, amidst an uncommon variety and 
 daily succession of most important labours, by a man who had no car for music, and as they want his 
 retouching hand, the reader will be candid to what inaccuracies he may discover: particularly the repe- 
 tition of the same thoughts and phrases, which in a few instances will be found ; and indeed some of 
 them could scarcely be avoided on subjects so nearly resembling, without the exclusion of the most 
 suitable and affecting sentiments or aspirations, for which the introduction of a new or more poetic 
 thought and phra.se would not have been an equivalent. There may perhaps be some improprieties, 
 owing to my not being able to read the author's manuscript in particular places, and being obliged, 
 without a poetic genius, to supply those deOeiencies, whereby the beauty of the stanza may be greatly 
 defaced, though the sense is preserved. 
 
 These Hymns being originally designed for the use of a congregation of plain unlearned Christians, 
 it cannot be expected they should entertain those, who may peruse them merely for the sake of the 
 poetry : yet I think many of them will stand the test of a critical examination, and appear at least equal 
 to other compositions of the like kind; and I am persuaded they will all be delightful and beneficial to 
 those, who desire to ha^e their devotions enlivened, their souls filled with divine love, and who are am- 
 bitious to live up to the rules of the gospel; and that they will, through the influences of the Holy 
 Ghost, spread a spirit of fervent piety in such congregations wliere they may be introduced. 
 
 I have nothing to add but my earnest wishes and prayers, that they may be subservient to the glory of 
 God, the more delightful celebration of divine ordinances, and the edification of my fellow Christians, 
 Amen. 
 
 JOB ORTON. 
 
 Salop, January 1, 1755. 
 
A TABLE 
 
 TO FIND OCT 
 
 ANY HYMN BY THE FIRST LINE OF IT. 
 
 A HYMN 
 
 Accept, great God, thy Britain's song . . 46 
 
 Alas for Britain, and her sons 186 
 
 Alas ! how fast our moments fly 127 
 
 All-conquering faith, how high it rose . . . 181 
 
 All-glorious God, what hymns of praise . . 298 
 
 All hail, mysterious King 359 
 
 All hail, victorious Saviour, hail ! . . . . 354 
 
 Aloud I sing the wondrous grace .... 217 
 
 Amazing beauteous change 100 
 
 Amazing grace of God on high 99 
 
 Amazing plan of sovereign love .... 124 
 
 And are we now brought near to God . . . 228 
 
 And art thou with us, gracious Lord ... 98 
 
 And doth the Son of God complain .... 104 
 
 And is salvation brought so near .... 262 
 
 And shall we still be slaves 227 
 
 And why do our admiring eyes 252 
 
 And will the great eternal God 49 
 
 And will the Judge descend 189 
 
 And will the Majesty of heaven 144 
 
 And will the eternal King 263 
 
 Approach, ye children of your God .... 315 
 
 A present God is all our strength .... 18 
 
 Arise, my tenderest thoughts, arise .... 64 
 
 Assist us, Lord, thy name to praise .... 255 
 
 Attend, mine ear, my heart rejoice .... 187 
 
 Attend, my soul, the voice divine .... 12 
 
 Attend, my soul, with reverent awe . . . 159 
 
 Awake, my drowsy soul, awake 199 
 
 Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve . . . 296 
 
 Awake, my soul, to meet the day .... 362 
 
 Awake, our souls, and bless his name . . . 228 
 
 Awake, ye saints, and raise your eyes . . . 264 
 
 B 
 
 Backsliding Israel, hear the voice .... 122 
 
 Behold God's great incarnate Son .... 337 
 
 Behold I come, the Saviour cries .... 343 
 
 Behold I come, the Saviour cries .... 361 
 
 Behold, O Israel's God 141 
 
 Behold our God, he owns his name .... 86 
 
 Behold the amazing sight 233 
 
 Behold the bleeding Lamb of God .... 242 
 
 Behold the glass the gospel lends < . . . .327 
 
 Behold the gloomy vale 32 
 
 Behold the great eternal God 15 
 
 Behold the great Physician stands .... 223 
 
 Behold the path tliat mortals tread .... 27 
 
 Behold the Son of God appears 314 
 
 3 R 
 
 HYMN 
 
 Behold the Son of God's delight 191 
 
 Behold, with pleasing ecstasy 121 
 
 Beneath thy mighty hand, O God .... 338 
 
 Beset with snares on every hand 207 
 
 Blest be the Lamb, whose blood was spilt . . 312 
 
 Blest Jesus, bow thine ear 301 
 
 Blest Jesus, source of grace divine .... 221 
 
 Blest men, who stretch their willing hands . 247 
 
 Blest Saviour, to my heart more dear . . . 139 
 
 Bridegroom of souls, how rich thy love . . 293 
 
 Bright source of intellectual rays .... 110 
 
 C 
 
 Captives of Israel, hear 106 
 
 Come, our indulgent Saviour, come . . 254 
 
 Come, thou celestial Spirit, come .... 245 
 
 D 
 
 Descend, immortal Dove 269 
 
 Do not I love thee, O my Lord 246 
 
 E 
 
 Eternal and immortal King 321 
 
 Eternal God, our humbled souls 154 
 
 Eternal God, our wondering souls .... 1 
 
 Eternal King, thy robes are white .... 165 
 
 Eternal source of every joy 43 
 
 Eternal source of life and thought .... 322 
 
 Exalted Prince of life, we (5wn 248 
 
 F 
 
 Father divine, the Saviour cried 190 
 
 Father divine, thy piercing eye 177 
 
 Father of lights, we sing thy name .... 176 
 
 Father of men, thy care we bless .... 2 
 
 Father of mercies, in thy house 289 
 
 Father of mercies, send thy grace .... 205 
 
 Father of peace, and God of love .... 325 
 
 Father of spirits, from thy hand .... 13 
 
 Flow on my tears in rising streams .... 120 
 
 Fountain of comfort and of love .... 271 
 
 G 
 
 God of eternity, from thee 292 
 
 God of Manasseh, wilt thou scorn .... 37! 
 
 God of my life, through all its days ... 71 
 
 God of my life, thy constant care . . . . 134 
 
 God of salvation, we adore 40 
 
978 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 (Joil of tlie oroaii, at whose voice 
 (Jo, saith the LokI, proclaim my grace 
 Grace ! 'tis a cliarminj; souiul 
 Great Father ol' cacli perfect gift 
 Great Father of mankind .... 
 Great Former of tliis various frame 
 Great (Jod, did pious Ahraliam pray 
 Great (Jod of heaven and nature rise 
 Great God of hosts attend our prayer 
 Great (Jod, we sing tliat mighty Jiand 
 Great Leader of tliine Israel's host . 
 Great Lord of angels, \vc adore . . 
 Great object of thine Israel's liope . 
 Great lluler of all nature's frame 
 Great Sovereign of the human heart 
 Great source of being and of love . 
 Great source of life, our souls confess 
 Great Spirit of immortal love . . 
 Great Teacher of thy eliurch, wc own 
 Guardian of Israel, source of peace 
 
 H 
 
 Hail, everlasting Prince of peace 
 
 Hail, everlasting spring 
 
 Hail, gracious Saviour, all divine . . 
 
 Hail, progeny divine 
 
 Hail to Emanuel's ever-honoured name 
 Hail to the Prince of life and peace 
 Hark ! for the great Creator speaks 
 Hark ! for 'tis God's own Son that calls 
 Hark ! for 'tis Wisdom's voice . . . 
 Hark the glad sound, the Saviour comes 
 Hark ! 'tis our lieavenly Leader's voice 
 Hear, gracious Sovereign from thy throne 
 Hearken, ye children of your God . . 
 Heaven has eontirnied the great decree 
 He comes, the royal Conqueror comes . 
 He comes, thy God, O Israel, comes 
 Henceforth let each believing heart 
 High let us swell our tuneful notes . . 
 House of our God, with cheerful anthems : 
 How free the fountain flows . • . . 
 How gentle God's commands .... 
 How glorious, Lord, art thou .... 
 How gracious and how wise .... 
 How keen the tempter's malice is 
 How long sliall dreams of creature-bliss 
 How rich thy bounty, King of kings 
 How rich thy favours, God of grace 
 How swift the torrent rolls .... 
 
 HYMN 
 
 117 
 
 219 
 28G 
 251 
 113 
 
 54 
 
 3 
 
 309 
 81 
 257 
 306 
 1()6 
 131 
 92 
 256 
 147 
 59 
 331 
 175 
 368 
 
 282 
 170 
 238 
 200 
 299 
 351 
 1 14 
 226 
 
 73 
 203 
 353 
 145 
 300 
 313 
 213 
 156 
 241 
 201 
 
 67 
 360 
 340 
 
 77 
 143 
 216 
 105 
 276 
 .341 
 164 
 
 I 
 
 I am thy God, .lehovah said . . 
 .Tehovah ! 'tis a glorious name 
 .Tesus, I love thy charming name 
 .Jesus, I sing thy matchless grace 
 Jesus, mine advocate above . . 
 •Tesus, my Lord, how rich thy grace 
 .fesus, our souls' delightful choice 
 .lesus. the Lord, our souls adore 
 .Tesus, we own thy saving power 
 .Jesus, we own thy sovereign hand 
 Immense eternal (Jod .... 
 Immortal God, on thee we call 
 Indulgent (Jod, with pitying eye 
 Indulgent Sovereign of the skies 
 In glad amazement, Lord, I stand 
 
 319 
 
 20 
 325 
 290 
 345 
 188 
 197 
 311 
 204 
 234 
 
 10 
 307 
 
 61 
 120 
 
 70 
 
 In one harmonious cheerful song 
 Inquire, ye pilgrims, for the way 
 In raptures let our hearts ascend 
 Interval of grateful sliade . . . 
 In thy rcljukes, all-gracious God 
 In v\ hat confusion earth appears 
 I own, my (Jod, thy sovereign grace 
 Israel, thy tribute bring . . . 
 Is there a sight in earth or heaven 
 It is my Father's voice .... 
 It is the Lord of glory calls . . 
 
 Legions of foes beset me round . . 
 Let heaven burst forth into a song 
 Let Jacob to his Maker sing . . . 
 Let Zion's watchmen all awake . . 
 Lift up, ye saints, your weeping eyes 
 Listen, ye hills, ye mountains, hear 
 Look back, my soul, with grateful love 
 Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye 
 Lord, dost thou show a corner-stone 
 Lord of the sabbath, hear our vows . 
 Lord of tlie vineyard, we adore . . 
 Lord, we adore thy wondrous name 
 Lord, we have broke thy holy laws . 
 Lord, we have wandered from thy way 
 Lord, «hen iniquities abound 
 Lord, when thine Israel we survey , 
 Lord, when thy hand is lifted up 
 Loud be thy name adored .... 
 Loud let flic tuneful trumpet sound 
 Loud to the Prince of heaven . . 
 
 M 
 
 Mark the soft-falling snow . . . 
 Mine inward joys, suppressed too long 
 My God, and is thy table spread 
 My God, assist me while I raise . . 
 My God ! how cheerful is the sound 
 My God, tlic covenant of tliy love 
 My God, thy service well demands . 
 My God, what silken cords are thine 
 My God, whose all-pervading eye 
 My gracious Lord, T own thy right . 
 My helper God, I bless his name . . 
 My Jesus, while in mortal flesh . . 
 My Lord, didst thou endure such smar 
 My Saviour, didst thou die for me . 
 
 My Saviour, I am thine 
 
 My Saviour, let me hear thy voice . 
 My sins, alas ! how foul the stains . 
 My soul, review the trembling days . 
 My soul, the awful hour will come . 
 My soul triumphant in the Lord . . 
 My soul, with all thy wakened powers 
 My soul, with joy attend .... 
 My various powers, awake .... 
 My wakened soul, extend thy wings 
 
 N 
 
 H VMN 
 
 . 232 
 
 . 137 
 
 . 244 
 
 . 363 
 
 . 109 
 
 . 212 
 
 . 240 
 
 . 357 
 
 . 224 
 
 . 90 
 
 . 126 
 
 Now be that sacrifice surveyed . . 
 Now let a true ambition rise . . 
 Now let my soul with transport rise 
 Now let our cheerful eyes survey 
 Now let our mourning hearts revive 
 
A TABLE OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 970 
 
 HYMN 
 
 Now let our songs address the God of peace . 367 
 
 Now let our songs proclaim abroad . . . 318 
 
 Now let our voices join 69 
 
 Now let the feeble all be strong 269 
 
 Now let the gates of Zion sing 182 
 
 Now let the listening world around ... 74 
 
 Now let the sons of Belial hear 80 
 
 Now to that sovereign grace 326 
 
 O 
 
 O God of Jacob, by whose hand . 
 O happy Christian, who can boast 
 O happy day, that fixed my choice 
 O injured Majesty of heaven . . 
 O Israel, blest beyond compare . 
 O Israel, thou art blest . . . . 
 O praise ye the Lord, prepare a new song 
 O righteous God, thou Judge supreme . 
 O thou that hast redemption wrought . 
 Our banner is the eternal God . . . 
 
 Our eyes salvation see 
 
 Our God ascends his lofty throne . . 
 
 Our heavenly Father calls 
 
 Our souls with pleasing wonder view . 
 Our souls with reverence, Lord, bow down 
 O where is sovereign mercy gone 
 O ye immortal throng .... 
 O Zion, tune thy voice .... 
 
 Parent of universal good .... 
 Peace, all ye sorrows of the heart 
 Peace, 'tis the Lord Jehovah's hand . 
 Perfection ! 'tis an empty name . . 
 Perpetual source of light and grace 
 Praise to our Shepherd's gracious name 
 Praise to the Lord of boundless might 
 Praise to the Lord on high .... 
 Praise to the Lord whose mighty hand 
 Praise to the radiant source of bliss 
 Praise to the Sovereign of the sky . 
 Praise to thy name, eternal God . . 
 
 4 
 349 
 23 
 142 
 16 
 78 
 366 
 14 
 24 
 6 
 
 202 
 82 
 346 
 34 
 339 
 116 
 304 
 118 
 
 47 
 235 
 42 
 63 
 151 
 229 
 274 
 273 
 272 
 101 
 162 
 344 
 
 R 
 
 Raise, thoughtless sinner, raise thine eye . . 148 
 
 Remark, my soul, the narrow bounds ... 52 
 
 Repent, tlie voice celestial cries 254 
 
 Return, my roving heart, return 29 
 
 Return, my soul, and seek thy rest .... .57 
 
 Salvation doth to God belong 
 Salvation ! O melodious sound . 
 Satan, the dire invader, came . . 
 Saviour divine, we know thy name 
 Saviour of men, and Lord of love 
 Searcher of hearts, before thy face 
 See how the Lord of mercy spreads 
 See Israel's gentle Shepherd stand 
 See the destruction is begun . . 
 See the fair structure wisdom rears 
 See the old dragon from his throne 
 Shepherd of Israel, bend thine ear 
 Shepherd of Israel, thou dost keep 
 Shine forth, eternal source of light 
 3 R 2 
 
 374 
 36 
 308 
 1.32 
 184 
 250 
 185 
 198 
 94 
 76 
 356 
 372 
 123 
 160 
 
 Shine on our souls, eternal God . . 
 Shout ! for the battlements are fallen 
 
 Sing to the Lord above 
 
 Sing to the Lord a new melodious song 
 Sing to the Lord, who loud proclaims 
 Singj ye redeemed of the Lord . . . 
 So firm the saints' foundations stand 
 Sovereign of all the worlds on high 
 Sovereign of heaven, thine empire spreads 
 Sovereign of life, before thine eye . . 
 Sovereign of life, I own thy hand . . 
 Sovereign of nature ! all is thine . . 
 Spring up my soul, with ardent flight 
 Stupendous grace ! and can it be . . 
 Supreme in mercy, who shall dare 
 Supreme of beings, with delight . . 
 
 The covenant of a Saviour's love . . 
 The creatures, Lord, confess thy hand 
 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers 
 The day approacheth, O my soul . . 
 The deluge at the Almighty's call . . 
 
 The ever-living God 
 
 The glorious Lord is Israel's hope . . 
 The great Jehovah ! who shall dare 
 The King of heaven his table spreads 
 The Lord from his exalted throne . . 
 The Lord ! how kind are all his ways 
 Tiie Lord, how rich his comforts are 
 
 The Lord Jehovah calls 
 
 The Lord into his vineyard comes 
 The Lord of glory reigns supremely great 
 The Lord of life exalted stands . . . 
 The Lord on mortal worms looks down 
 The Lord, our Lord ! how rich his grace 
 The Lord with pleasure views his saints 
 
 The promises I sing 
 
 The righteous Lord, supremely great . . 
 These mortal joys, how soon they fade 
 The sepulchres, how thick they stand 
 
 The swift-declining day 
 
 The eternal God, his name how great 
 The vineyard of the Lord, how fair . . . 
 
 Thou God of Jabez, hear 
 
 Thou, Lord, through every changing scene 
 Thou, mighty Lord, art God alone . . . 
 Thrice happy souls, who born from heaven 
 Thrice happy state, where saints shall live 
 Thus hath the son of Jesse said . . . . 
 Thus saith Jehovah, from his seat . . . 
 Thy flock, with what a tender care . . . 
 
 Thy judgments cry aloud 
 
 Thy piercing eye, O God, surveys . . . 
 Thy presence, everlasting God . . . . 
 'Tis mine the covenant of his grace . . . 
 To all his flock, what wondrous love . . 
 
 To-morrow, Lord, is thine 
 
 To thee, great Architect on high . . . . 
 To thee, my God, my days are known . . 
 To thee, O God, we homage pay . . . . 
 Transporting tidings, which we hear . . 
 Tremendous Judge, before thy bar . . 
 Triumphant, Lord, thy goodness reigns 
 Triumphant Zion, lift thy head .... 
 
 HYMN 
 
 53 
 278 
 167 
 220 
 30 
 96 
 161 
 281 
 180 
 25 
 60 
 14 
 268 
 287 
 160 
 355 
 
 236 
 5 
 
 66 
 317 
 336 
 
 89 
 
 95 
 
 26 
 211 
 
 28 
 149 
 277 
 309 
 174 
 
 44 
 225 
 172 
 106 
 
 37 
 316 
 128 
 209 
 243 
 130 
 
 24 
 
 81 
 370 
 
 51 
 253 
 
 79 
 216 
 365 
 
 91 
 230 
 115 
 138 
 279 
 
 22 
 239 
 329 
 305 
 
 38 
 173 
 302 
 373 
 
 35 
 107 
 
 Viler than dust, O Lord, are we 135 
 
980 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN 
 
 Ungrateful sinners, whence this scorn . . . 258 
 
 Unite, my roving thoughts, unite .... 48 
 
 W 
 
 Wait on the Lord, yc heirs of hope .... 93 
 
 ^^'eary, and m enk, and faint 87 
 
 Wc bless tl)c eternal source of light . . . . 352 
 
 We praise the Lord for heavenly bread . . . 222 
 
 \A'e sing the deep mysterious plan .... 284 
 
 AN'liat bosom moved witli pious zeal ... 9 
 
 Wliat doleful aecents do 1 hear 192 
 
 What hauglity scorner, saith the Lord . . . 1G8 
 
 AA'hat mysteries. Lord, in thee combine . . 350 
 
 What venerable sight appears 214 
 
 When at this distance. Lord, we trace . . . 183 
 
 Wliile on tlie verse of life 1 stand .... 29.5 
 
 Whose words against the Lord are stout . . 1.30 
 
 Why (low tlicse torrents of distress .... IJJG 
 
 Why should our mourning souls delight . . 2(50 
 
 Why will ye lavish out your years .... 20G 
 
 Wide o'er all worlds the Saviour reigns . . 195 
 
 With ecstasy of joy 333 
 
 With flowing eyes, and bleeding hearts . . 270 
 
 With humble pleasure, Lord, we trace . . 11 
 
 With pity, Lord, thy servant view .... 62 
 
 HYMN 
 
 With reverend awe, tremendous Lord . . . 133 
 
 With transport. Lord, our souls proclaim . 323 
 
 With what delight I raise mine eyes ... 86 
 
 Y 
 
 Ye armies of the living God 265 
 
 Yc golden lamps of heaven, farewell . . . 119 
 
 Ye hearts with youthful vigour warm ... 75 
 
 Yc heavens, with sounds of triumph ring . . 303 
 
 Yc humble souls, rejoice 72 
 
 Ye humble souls, that seek the Lord . . . 194 
 
 Ye little lloeks, whom Jesus feeds .... 208 
 
 Ye mourning saints, whose streaming tears . 112 
 
 Ye prisoners who in bondage lie 169 
 
 Yes, IJritain seemed to ruin doomed . . . 155 
 
 Ye servants of tlie Lord 210 
 
 Ye sinners, bend your stubborn necks . . . 328 
 
 Ye sinners, on backsliding bent 153 
 
 Yes, it is sweet to taste his grace .... 3.32 
 
 Ye sons of men, with joy record 56 
 
 Yes, the Redeemer rose 218 
 
 Yes, 'tis the voice of love divine 163 
 
 Ye subjects of the Lord proclaim .... 108 
 
 Ye weak inhabitants of clay 79 
 
HYMNS 
 
 FOUNDED 
 
 ON VARIOUS TEXTS IN THE OLD TESTAMENT. 
 
 HYMN I. 
 
 Enoch's piety and translation. Gen. v. 24. Heb. xi. 5. 
 
 1 Eternal God, our wondering souls 
 
 Admire thy matchless grace ; 
 That thou wilt walk, that thou wilt dwell, 
 With Adam's worthless race. 
 
 2 O lead me to that happy path. 
 
 Where I my God may meet ; 
 Though hosts of foes begird it round, 
 Though briers wound my feet. 
 
 3 Cheered with thy converse, I can trace 
 
 The desert with delight : 
 Through all the gloom one smile of thine 
 Can dissipate the night. 
 
 4 Nor shall I through eternal days 
 
 A restless pilgrim roam ; 
 Thy hand, that now directs my course, 
 Shall soon convey me home. 
 
 5 I ask not Enoch's rapturous flight 
 
 To realms of heavenly day ; 
 Nor seek Elijah's fiery steeds 
 To bear this flesh away. 
 
 G Joyful my spirit will consent 
 To drop its mortal load ; 
 And hail* the sharpest pangs of death, 
 That break its way to God. 
 
 HYMN II. 
 
 God's f/raeious approbation of a religious care of our 
 families. Gen. xviii. 19. 
 
 1 Father of men, thy care we bless, 
 Which crowns our families with peace : 
 
 * Salute or welcome. 
 
 From thee they sprung, and by thy hand 
 Their root and branches are sustained. 
 
 2 To God, most worthy to be praised, 
 Be our domestic altars raised ; 
 
 Who, Lord of heaven, scorns not to dwell 
 With saints in their obscurest cell. 
 
 3 To thee may each united house. 
 Morning and night, present its vows : 
 Our servants there, and rising race. 
 Be taught thy precepts, and thy grace. 
 
 4 O may each future age proclaim 
 The honours of thy glorious name ; 
 While pleased, and thankful, we remove 
 To join the family above. 
 
 HYMN III. 
 Ahraham's intercession for Sodom. Gen. xviii. 32. 
 
 For a Fast- day. 
 
 1 Great God ! did pious Abra'm pray 
 For Sodom's vile abandoned race? 
 And shall not all our souls be roused 
 For Britain to implore thy grace ? 
 
 2 Base as we are, does not thine eye 
 Its chosen thousands here survey, 
 
 Whose souls, deep humbled, mourn the crowds 
 Who walk in sin's destructive way? 
 
 3 O .Judge supreme, let not thy sword 
 The righteous with the wicked smite ; 
 Nor bury, in promiscuous heaps. 
 Rebels, and saints thy chief delight. 
 
 4 For these thy children spare the land ; 
 Avert the thunders big with death ; 
 Nor let the .seeds of latentf fire 
 
 Be kindled by Uiy flaming breath. 
 
 t Hidden, secret. 
 
98-2 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 5 Oil ! be not angry, niiijlity God, 
 A\'hile dust and ashes seek thy face ; 
 But, gently bending from thy throne, 
 Renew, and still increase, the graee. 
 
 6 Jesus the intercessor hear, 
 
 And for his sake thy grace impart, 
 Which, while it stops the fiery stream, 
 Dissolves the most obdurate heart. 
 
 7 Sodom shall change to Zion then. 
 And heavenly dews be scattered round. 
 That plants of paradise may spring 
 Where baleful * poisons cursed the ground. 
 
 HYMN IV. 
 
 Jacob's vow. Gen. xxviii. 20 — 22. 
 
 1 O God of Jacob, by whose hand 
 
 Thine Israel still is fed, 
 Who through this weary pilgrimage 
 Hast all our fathers led. 
 
 2 To thee our humble vows we raise. 
 
 To thee address our prayer. 
 And in thy kind and faithful breast 
 Deposit all our eare. 
 
 3 If thou, through each perplexing path. 
 
 Wilt be our constant guide ; 
 If thou wilt daily bread supply, 
 And raiment wilt provide ; 
 
 4 If thou wilt spread thy shield around, 
 
 Till these our wanderings cease. 
 And at our Father's loved abode 
 Our souls arrive in peace : 
 
 6 To thee, as to our covenant God, 
 We'll our whole selves resign ; 
 And count, that not our tenth alone, 
 But all we have is thine. 
 
 HYMN V. 
 
 The hand of the Lord upon the cattle. Exod. ix. 3. 
 
 1 The creatures, Lord, confess thy hand. 
 Through earth and sky, through sea and land ; 
 And all their meanest orders share 
 
 Their Maker's pity and his care. 
 
 2 O look from thine exalted throne. 
 And hear our panting cattle moan : 
 Prone t o'er the untasted food they lie, 
 Groan out their agonies, and die. 
 
 3 What have these harmless creatures done? 
 To draw this sore chastisement down ? 
 'Tis human guilt for vengeance calls, 
 And heavy on the herds it falls. 
 
 • Deitructire. + Stretched out on the ground. 
 
 4 From them to us the stroke might pass. 
 And mow down thousands of our race ; 
 Till desolation reigned around, 
 Our cities void, untillcd our ground. 
 
 r> Prevent the ruin by thy grace. 
 
 And melt our hearts to seek thy face : 
 
 Blest fruit of thy correcting rod, 
 
 To lose our beasts, and find our God. 
 
 HYMN VI. 
 Israel and Amaleh. Exod. xvii. 11. 
 
 For a Fast-day. 
 
 1 Our banner is the eternal God, 
 
 Nor will we yield to fear ; 
 Amidst ten thousand fierce assaults, 
 His mighty aid is near. 
 
 2 To him the hands of faith we stretch. 
 
 And plead experienced grace ; 
 To him the voice of prayer we raise. 
 Nor will he hide his face. 
 
 3 No more, proud Amalek, thy boast, 
 
 " God's arm is feeble grown:" 
 His sword shall lop ofl" every hand 
 That dares insult his throne. 
 
 4 Awake, tremendous Judge, awake, 
 
 Our nation's cause to plead ; 
 Nor let thine Israel's foes, and thine. 
 By wickedness succeed. 
 
 5 Our fainting hands, how soon they droop ! 
 
 But thou the weak canst raise ; 
 And in the mount of prayer canst leave 
 An altar to thy praise. 
 
 HYMN VII. 
 
 Ayalnst following a multitude to do evil. 
 Exod. xxiii. 2. 
 
 1 Lord, when iniquities abound, 
 
 And growing crimes appear ; 
 We view the deluge rising round 
 With sorrow, and with fear. 
 
 2 Yet when its waves most fiercely beat. 
 
 And spread destruction wide. 
 Thy Spirit can a standard raise 
 To stem X the roaring tide. 
 
 3 May thy triumphant arm awake, 
 
 Thy sacred cause to plead ; 
 And let the multitude confess 
 That thou art God indeed 
 
 4 Their hearts shall in a moment turn, 
 
 Like water, by thy hand ; 
 
 } Restrain. 
 
EXODUS. 
 
 983. 
 
 One word shall bow their stubborn necks 
 
 To own thy high command. 
 5 Our feeble souls at least support, 
 
 And there thy power display ; 
 Then multitudes shall strive in vain 
 
 To draw us from thy way. 
 
 HYMN VIII. 
 
 Christ's intercession typified bi/ Aaron's breast- 
 plate. Exod. xxviii. 29. 
 
 1 Now let our cheerful eyes survey 
 
 Our great High Priest above, 
 And celebrate his constant care, 
 And sympathetic love. 
 
 2 Though raised to a superior throne, 
 
 Where angels bow around. 
 And high o'er all the shining train 
 With matchless honours crowned ; 
 
 3 The names of all his saints he bears 
 
 Deep graven on his heart ; 
 Nor shall the meanest Christian say 
 That he hath lost liis part. 
 
 4 Those characters shall fair abide, 
 
 Our everlasting trust. 
 When gems, and monuments, and crowns 
 Are mouldered down to dust. 
 
 5 So, gracious Saviour, on my breast 
 
 May thy dear name be worn, 
 A sacred ornament and guard, 
 To endless ages borne. 
 
 HYMN IX. 
 Who is on the Lord's side ? Exod. xxxiii. 26. 
 
 1 What bosom moved with pious zeal 
 Doth for its God's dishonour feel ? 
 What heart with generous ardour glows 
 To plead his cause against his foes ? 
 
 2 Great God, what bosom can be cold? 
 What coward must not here grow bold ? 
 While honour, interest, truth, and love, 
 Concur our inmost souls to move? 
 
 3 Around thy standard, Lord, we press. 
 Thine injured honour to redress. 
 And with determined voice demand 
 The signal of thy conquering hand. 
 
 4 Thou shalt tliese sacred weapons bless. 
 And lead through war to endless peace ; 
 Nor death itself our souls shall dread, 
 For thine own arm shall raise the dead. 
 
 HYMN X. 
 God's presence desirable. Exod. xxxiii. 15. 
 1 Immense, eternal God ! 
 How marvellous thy name ! 
 
 Thy presence all abroad 
 Pervades * all nature's frame ; 
 
 Heaven, earth, and air, 
 
 And the dark cell. 
 
 Where devils dwell 
 
 In long despair. 
 
 2 Yet thou hast chosen ways 
 To make thy presence known. 
 To favourites of thy grace. 
 To upright souls alone : 
 
 This glory, Lord, 
 My soul would see, 
 This grace to me. 
 My God, afford. 
 
 3 If thou thy lustre veil. 
 The charms of nature fade ; 
 All withered, weak, and pale. 
 They bow their languid head : 
 
 My Father, shine ; 
 For thou canst give 
 The dead to live 
 By beams divine. 
 
 4 Even Eden's blissful lands 
 Would in thine absence mourn : 
 But thou wild Afric'sf sands 
 To Paradise canst turn. 
 
 If God be there 
 The gloom is bright ; 
 But noon is night. 
 Till thou appear. 
 
 5 Come, for my spirit glows 
 With infinite desire ! 
 Strong love impatient grows. 
 And sets my heart on fire. 
 
 My Father, come. 
 That presence give 
 On which I live, 
 Or call mc home. 
 
 HYMN XI. 
 
 Moses's view of the divine glory . Exod. xxxiii. 18. 
 
 1 With humble pleasure. Lord, we trace 
 The ancient records of thy grace ; 
 And our own consolation draw 
 
 From what thy servant Moses saw. 
 
 2 May we behold thy glory shine 
 With gentle beams of love divine ; 
 And hear thy secret voice proclaim 
 The various wonders of thy name. 
 
 3 If feeble nature faint to endure 
 A voice so sweet, a ray so pure ; 
 Its dissolution would delight, 
 
 While death would wear a form so bright. 
 
 * Penetrates throuRli, or fills. 
 + Afrira, a part of the eartli remarkalile for sandy barren deserts. 
 
984 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 4 Death shall unveil that world above. 
 Where the dear children of tliy love, 
 Attempered * all to heavenly day, 
 Bear and reflect the immediate ray. 
 
 HYMN Xn. 
 
 The proclamation of God's name to Moses ; oi\ 
 Divine mercy and justice. Exod. xxxiv. 6 — 8. 
 
 1 Attend, my soul, the voice divihe, 
 And mark what beaming: glories shine 
 
 Around thy condescending God ! 
 To us, to us, he still proclaims 
 His awful, his endearing names : 
 
 Attend, and sound them all abroad. 
 
 2 " Jehovah I, the sovereign Lord, 
 The mighty God, by heaven adored, 
 
 Down to the earth my footsteps bend : 
 My heart the tendercst pity knows. 
 Goodness full-streaming wide o'erflows, 
 
 And grace and truth shall never end. 
 
 3 " My patience long can crimes endure : 
 My pardoning love is ever sure, 
 
 When penitential sorrow mourns ; 
 To millions, through unnumbered years, 
 New hope and new delight it bears ; 
 
 Yet wrath against the sinner burns." 
 
 4 Make haste, my soul, the vision meet. 
 All-prostrate at thy Sovereign's feet, 
 
 And drink the tuneful accents in; 
 Speak on, my Lord, repeat the voice, 
 Diffuse these heart-expanding joys. 
 
 Till heaven complete the rapturous scene. 
 
 HYMN XIII. 
 
 The God of spirits sought to supphf vacancies in 
 the congregations of his people. Numb, xxxvii. 
 15—17. 
 
 1 Father of spirits, from thy hand. 
 
 Our souls immortal came ; 
 And still thine energy f divine 
 Supports the ethereal X flame. 
 
 2 By thee our spirits all are known ; 
 
 And each remotest thought 
 Lies wide expanded to his eye, 
 By whom their powers were wrought. 
 
 .3 To thee, w hen mortal comforts fail. 
 Thy flock deserfetl liies ; 
 And, on the eternal Shepherd's care, 
 Our cheerful hope relies. 
 
 4 When o'er thy faithful servant's dust 
 Thy dear assemblies mourn, 
 
 ♦ Fitted and enabled to bear. 
 + Power. J Heavenly. 
 
 In speedy tokens of thy g^race, 
 O Israel's God, return. 
 
 5 The powers of nature all are thine, 
 And thine the aids of grace ; 
 Thine arm has borne thy churches up 
 Through every rising race. 
 
 G Exert thy sacred influence here. 
 And here thy suppliants bless. 
 And change, to strains of cheerful praise, 
 Their accents of distress. 
 
 7 With faithful heart, with skilful hand, 
 May this thy flock be fed ; 
 And with a steady growing pace, 
 To Zion's mountain led. 
 
 HYMN XIV. 
 The Lord's people his portion. Deut. xxxii. 9. 
 
 1 SovEREic.v of nature, all is thine. 
 
 The air, the earth, the sea: 
 By thee the orbs celestial § shine. 
 And cherubs live by thee. 
 
 2 Rich in thy own essential store ; 
 
 Thou call'st forth' worlds at will : 
 Ten thousand, and ten thousand more. 
 Would hear thy summons still. 
 
 3 What treasure wilt fliou then confess ? 
 
 And thy own portion call ? 
 What by peculiar right possess. 
 Imperial Lord of all ? 
 
 4 Thine Israel thou wilt stoop to claim. 
 
 Wilt mark them out for thine : 
 Ten thousand praises to thy name 
 For goodness so divine ! 
 
 5 That I am thine, my soul would boast. 
 
 And boast its claim to thee : 
 Nor shall God's property be lost. 
 Nor God be torn from me. 
 
 HYMN XV. 
 
 The eternal God his people's refuge aiid support. 
 Deut. xxxiii. 27. 
 
 1 Behold the great eternal God 
 Spreads everlasting arms abroad. 
 
 And calls our souls to shelter there. 
 Wonders of mingled power and grace 
 To all his Israel he displays. 
 
 Guarded from danger and from fear. 
 
 2 Thither my feeble soul shall fly. 
 When terrors press, and death is nigh, 
 
 And there will I delight to dwell : 
 On that high tower I rear my head 
 Serene, nor knows my heart to dread. 
 
 Amidst surrounding hosts of hell. 
 
 } Tlie heavenly bodies. 
 
DEUTERONOMY. JOSHUA. JUDGES. 1 SAMUEL. 
 
 085 
 
 3 Tbe shadow of the Almighty's wings 
 Coniposare unmolested brLigs, 
 
 While threatening horrors round me crowd ; 
 In vain the storms of rattling hail 
 The walls of this retreat assail. 
 
 And the wild tempest roars aloud. 
 
 4 In louder strains my fearless tongue 
 Shall warble its victorious songs. 
 
 My Father's graces to proclaim ; 
 He bears his infant offspring on 
 To glory radiant as his throne. 
 
 And joys eternal as his name. 
 
 HYMN XVI. 
 The happiness of God's Israel. Deut. xxxiii. 29. 
 
 1 O Israel, blest beyond compare! 
 Unrivalled all thy glories are : 
 Jehovah deigns* to fill thy throne, 
 And calls thine interest all his own. 
 
 2 He is thy Saviour ; he thy Lord ; 
 
 His shield is thine ; and thine his sword : 
 
 Review in ecstasy of thought 
 
 The grand redemption he has wrought. 
 
 3 From Satan's yoke he sets thee free, 
 Opens thy passage through the sea ; 
 He through the desert is thy guide, 
 And heaven for Canaan will provide. 
 
 4 Not Jacob's sons of old could boast 
 Such favours to their chosen host ; 
 Their glories which through ages shine. 
 Are but dim shades and types of thine. 
 
 5 Celestial Spirit, teach our tongue 
 Sublimer strains than Moses sung. 
 Proportioned to the sweeter name 
 Of God the Saviour, and the Lamb. 
 
 HYMN XVII. 
 
 Support in the gracious presence of God, under the 
 loss of ministers and other vseful friends. Josh. i. 
 2, 4, 5. 
 
 1 Now let our mourning hearts revive. 
 
 And all our tears be dry ; 
 Why should those eyes be drowned in grief, 
 Which view a Saviour nigh ? 
 
 2 What though the arm of conquering death 
 
 Does God's own house invade? 
 What tho^igh the prophet, and the priest, 
 Be numbered with the dead ? 
 
 3 Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust, 
 
 The aged and the young. 
 The watchful eye in darkness closed, 
 And mute the instructive tongue. 
 
 * Coiidesccnde. 
 
 4 The eternal Shepherd still survives, 
 
 New comfort to impart ; 
 His eye still guides us, and his voice 
 Still animates our heart. 
 
 5 " Lo, I am with you," saith the Lord, 
 
 " My church shall safe abide ; 
 For I will ne'er forsake my own, 
 Whose souls in me confide." 
 
 G Through every scene of life and death, 
 This promise is our trust ; 
 And this shall be our children's song, 
 When we are cold in dust. 
 
 HYMN XVIII. 
 
 God insensibly withdraivn. Judges xvi. 20. 
 
 1 A PRESENT God is all our strength. 
 
 And all our joy and hope ; 
 When he withdraws, our comforts die. 
 And every grace must droop. 
 
 2 But flattering trifles charm our hearts 
 
 To court their false embrace. 
 Till justly this neglected Friend 
 Averts his angry face. 
 
 3 He leaves us, and we miss him not. 
 
 But go presumptuous on ; 
 Till badled, wounded, and enslaved, 
 We learn that God is gone. 
 
 4 And what, my soul, can then remain 
 
 One ray of light to give ? 
 Severed from him, their better life, 
 How can his children live ? 
 
 5 Hence, all ye painted forms of joy, 
 
 And leave my heart to mourn : 
 I would devote these eyes to tears, 
 Till cheered by his return. 
 
 fi Look back, my Lord, and own the place. 
 Where once thy temple stood ; 
 For lo, its ruins bear the mark 
 Of rich atoning blood. 
 
 HYMN XIX. 
 
 Ebenezer ; or, God's helping hand reviewed and 
 acknowledged. 1 Sam. vii. 12. 
 
 For New-year's Oay. 
 
 1 My helper God ! I bless his name ; 
 
 The same his power, his grace the same, 
 The tokens of his friendly care 
 Open, and crown, and close the year. 
 
 2 I midst ten thousand dangers stand. 
 Supported by his guardian hand ; 
 And see, when I survey my ways. 
 Ten thousand monuments of praise. 
 
986 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 3 Tlius farliis arm lialli led me on ; 
 Thus far I make his mercy known ; 
 And, while I tread this desert land. 
 New mercies sliall new songs demand. 
 
 4 My grateful soul, on Jordan's shore, 
 Shall raise one sacred |)illar more ; 
 Then bear, in his briglit courts above, 
 Inscriptions of immortal love. 
 
 HYMN XX. 
 
 The saint cncourayiuf) himself in the Lord his God. 
 1 Sam. XXX. 6. 
 
 1 Jehovah, 'tis a glorious name, 
 
 Still pregnant with delight ; 
 It scatters round a clieerful beam, 
 To gild the darkest night. 
 
 2 What though our mortal comforts fade, 
 
 And droop like withering flowers ? 
 Nor time nor death can break that band, 
 Which makes Jehovah ours. 
 
 3 My cares, I give you to the wind, 
 
 And shake you ofl" like dust ; 
 Well may I trust my all with him. 
 With whom my soul I trust. 
 
 HYMN XXI. 
 
 Support in God's covenant under domestic troubles. 
 2 Sam. xxiii. 5. 
 
 1 My God, the covenant of thy love 
 
 Abides for ever sure. 
 And in his matchless grace I feel 
 My happiness secure. 
 
 2 What though my house be not with thee, 
 
 As nature could desire ? 
 To nobler joys than nature gives. 
 Thy servants all aspire. 
 
 3 Since thou, the everlasting God, 
 
 My Father art become ; 
 Jesus my Guardian and my Friend, 
 And heaven my final home ; 
 
 4 I welcome all thy sovereign will, 
 
 For all that will is love ; 
 And, when I know not what thou dost, 
 I wait the light above. 
 
 5 Thy covenant in the darkest gloom 
 
 Shall heavenly rays impart, 
 W'hich, when my eyelids close in death, 
 Shall warm my chilling heart. 
 
 HYMN XXII. 
 
 Support in God's covenant in the near views of 
 death. 2 Sam. xxiii. 1. and 5. compared. 
 
 1 'Tis mine, the covenant of his grace. 
 And every promise mine ! 
 
 All sprung from everlasting love. 
 And sealed by blood divine. 
 
 2 On my unworthy favoured head. 
 
 Its blessings all unite ; 
 Blessings more numerous than the stars, 
 More lasting and more bright. 
 
 3 Death, thou mayst tear this rag of flesh. 
 
 And sink ray fainting head. 
 And lay my ruins in the grave. 
 Among my kindred dead : 
 
 4 But death and hell in vain shall strive 
 
 To break that sacred rest, 
 Which God's expiring children feel. 
 While leaning on his breast. 
 
 5 The enlarged soul thou canst not reach, 
 
 Nor rend from Christ away ; 
 Though o'er my mouldering dust thou boast 
 The triumphs of a day. 
 
 G The night is past, my morning dawns ; 
 My covenant God descends. 
 And wakes that dust to join my soul 
 In bliss that never ends. 
 
 7 That covenant the last accents claims 
 Of this poor faltering tongue ; 
 And tliat shall the first notes employ 
 Of my celestial song. 
 
 HYMN XXIII. 
 
 Rejoicing in our covenant engagements to God. 
 2 Chron. xv. 15. 
 
 1 O HAPPY day, that fixed my choice 
 On thee my Saviour and my God ! 
 Well may this glowing heart rejoice, 
 And tell its raptures all abroad. 
 
 2 O happy bond, that seals my vows 
 To him, who merits all my love ! 
 Let cheerful anthems * fill his house. 
 While to that sacred shrine f I move. 
 
 3 'Tis done ; the great transaction 's done : 
 I am my Lord's, and he is mine : 
 
 He drew me, and I followed on. 
 Charmed to confess the voice divine. 
 
 4 Now rest my long divided heart. 
 Fixed on this blissful centre rest; 
 With aslies who would grudge to part, 
 When called on angels' bread to feast? 
 
 5 High Heaven that heard the solemn vow, 
 That vow renewed shall daily hear: 
 
 Till ill life's latest hour I bow, 
 And bless in death a bond so dear. 
 
 ♦ Hymns of praise. + Altar or place of worsliip. 
 
EZRA. JOB. 
 
 987 
 
 HYMN XXIV. 
 
 God stirring up the spirit of Cyrus to redeem Israel. 
 Ezra i. 1. compared with Isa. xliv. 1 — 4. 
 
 1 The eternal God ! bis name liow great ! 
 How deep his counsels ! how complete ! 
 The hearts of kings his power can sway ; 
 His word unconscious * they obey. 
 
 2 Summoned of old in distant days 
 
 To serve his schemes, and show his praise, 
 Cyrus, illustrious prince, appears, 
 His people frees, his temple rears. 
 
 3 Through legions armed he breaks his way, 
 And tramples generals down like clay ; 
 The bars of steel he cuts in twain, 
 
 And brazen gates oppose in vain. 
 
 4 But to .Jehovah's accents mild 
 The hero, pliant as a child. 
 Lays the new gates of empire by, 
 Till Zion rise and shines on high. 
 
 5 Thus, mighty God, shall every heart, 
 (If thou thine influence there exert,) 
 Throw its own fondest schemes aside, 
 And follow where thy hand shall guide. 
 
 6 The foremost sons of fame shall boast 
 To raise thj' temples from their dust ; 
 Princes shall shout thy name aloud. 
 And new-born priests thine altars crowd. 
 
 HYMN XXV. 
 
 A glance from God bringing us down to the solitude 
 of the grave. Job vii. 8. 
 
 1 Sovereign of life, before thine eye, 
 Lo, mortal men by thousands die ! 
 
 One glance from thee at once brings down 
 The proudest brow that wears a crown. 
 
 2 Banished at once from human sight 
 To the dark grave's unchanging night, 
 Imprisoned in that dusty bed, 
 
 We hide our solitary head. 
 
 3 The friendly band f no more shall greet. 
 Accents familiar once, and sweet: 
 
 No more the well-known features trace. 
 No more renew the fond embrace. 
 
 4 Yet if my Father's faithful hand 
 Conduct me through this gloomy land. 
 My soul with pleasure shall obey, 
 And follow where he leads the way. 
 
 5 He nobler friends than here I leave, 
 In brighter, surer worlds can give ; 
 Or by the beamings of his eye 
 
 A lost creation well supply. 
 
 * Without intending it. Isa. x. 7. + Company. 
 
 HYMN XXVI. 
 
 The impossibility of prospering while men harden 
 themselves against God. Job ix. 4. 
 
 1 The great Jehovah ! who shall dare 
 With him to tempt unecjual war? 
 What heart of steel shall dare to oppose, 
 And league among his hardened foes? 
 
 2 At his command the lightnings dart. 
 And swift transfix 1 the rebel heart: 
 Earth trembles at his look, and cleaves. 
 And legions sink in living graves. 
 
 3 Where are the haughty monarchs now. 
 Who scorned his word with lowering brow ? 
 Where are the trophies of their reigns ; 
 
 Or where their ruins' last remains ? 
 
 4 See Pharaoh sinking in the tide. 
 See Babel's tyrant, mad with pride. 
 Graze with the beasts ! hear Herod roar. 
 While worms his deity devour ! 
 
 •5 See, from the turrets of the skies, 
 Tall cherubs sink, no more to rise ; 
 And trace their rank on thrones of light. 
 By heavier chains, and darker night ! 
 
 6 Great God! and shall this soul of mine 
 Presume to challenge wrath divine ? 
 Trembling, I seek thy mercy-seat. 
 And lay my weapons at thy feet. 
 
 HYMN XXVII. 
 The great journey. Job xvi. 22. 
 
 1 Behold the path that mortals tread 
 Down to the regions of tlie dead ! 
 Nor will the (leeting moments stay. 
 Nor can we measure back our way. 
 
 2 Our kindred and our friends are gone ; 
 Know, O my soul, this doom thy own ; 
 Feeble as theirs my mortal frame. 
 The same my way, my house the same. 
 
 3 From vital air, from cheerful light, 
 To the cold grave's perpetual night. 
 From scenes of duty, means of grace. 
 Must I to God's tribunal pass ! 
 
 4 Important journey ! awful view ! 
 
 How great the change ! the scenes how new ! 
 The golden gates of heaven displayed. 
 Or hell's fierce flames, and gloomy shade ! 
 
 5 Awake, my soul ; thy way prepare. 
 And lose in this each mortal care ; 
 With steady feet that path be trod. 
 Which through the grave conducts to God. 
 
 } Pierce through. 
 
988 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 G Jesus, to tliec im all I trust. 
 
 And, if thou cull me down to dust, 
 I know tliy voice, I bless thy hand, 
 And die in smiles at thy command. 
 
 7 AN liat was my terror is my joy ; 
 
 These views my brijjhtcst hopes employ, 
 To go, ere many years are o'er, 
 Secure I shall return no more. 
 
 HYMN XXVni. 
 
 The penitent brought hack from the ])it. 
 Job xxxiii. 27, 28. 
 
 1 The Lord, from his exalted throne, 
 
 In majesty arrayed. 
 Looks with a melting pity down 
 On all that seek his aid. 
 
 2 When, touched with penitent remorse, 
 
 Our follies past we mourn. 
 With what a tenderness of love 
 He meets our first return ! 
 
 3 From heaven be sent his only S ju 
 
 To ransom us with blood. 
 To snatch us from the burning pit. 
 When on its brink we stood. 
 
 4 From death and hell he leads us up 
 
 By a delightful way ; 
 And the bright beams of endless life, 
 Doth round our path display. 
 
 6 Great God, we wonder and adore ; 
 And, to exalt such grace. 
 We long to learn the songs of heaven. 
 Ere yet we reach the place. 
 
 HYMN XXIX. 
 Communing with our hearts. Psalm iv. 4. 
 
 1 Return, my roving heart, return, 
 
 And chase these shadowy forms no more ; 
 Seek out some solitude to mourn. 
 And thy forsaken God implore. 
 
 2 Wisdom and pleasure dwell at home ; 
 Retired and silent seek them there : 
 True conquest is ourselves to o'ercome, 
 True strength to break the tempter's snare. 
 
 3 And thou, my God, whose piercing eye 
 Distinct surveys each deep recess. 
 
 In these abstracted hours draw nigh, 
 And with thy presence fill the place. 
 
 4 Through all the mazes* of my heart 
 My search let heavenly wisdom guide, 
 And still its radiant beams impart. 
 Till all be searched and purified. 
 
 5 Then, witli the visits of thy love. 
 Vouchsafe my inmost soul to cheer ; 
 Till every grace shall join to prove 
 Tliat God hath fixed his dwelling there. 
 
 HYMN XXX. 
 
 God's name the encouragement of our faith. 
 Psalm ix. 10. 
 
 1 Sing to the Lord, who loud proclaims 
 His various and his saving names ; 
 
 O may they not be heard alone. 
 But by our sure experience known ! 
 
 2 Let great Jehovah be adored, 
 The eternal, all-sullicient Lord ! 
 
 He tlirough the world most high confessed. 
 By whom 'twas formed, and is possessed. 
 
 3 Awake our noblest powers to bless. 
 The God of Abraham, God of peace ; 
 Now by a dearer title known. 
 Father and God of Christ his Son. 
 
 4 Through every age his gracious ear 
 Is open to his servants' prayer ; 
 Nor can one humble soul complain, 
 That it hath sought its God in vain. 
 
 3 What unbelieving heart shall dare 
 In whispers to suggest a fear. 
 While still he owns his ancient name ? 
 The same his power, his love the same ! 
 
 6 To tliee our souls in faith arise, 
 To thee we lift expecting eyes ; 
 And boldly through the desert tread, 
 
 For God will guard where God shall lead. 
 
 HYMN XXXI. 
 Triumph in God's protection. Psalm xviii. 2. 
 
 1 Legions of foes beset me round, 
 
 While marching over this dangerous ground; 
 Yet in Jehovah's aid I trust. 
 And in his power superior boast. 
 
 2 My buckler he ; his shield is spread 
 To cover this defenceless head : 
 Now let the fiercest foes assail, 
 Their darts I count as rattling hail. 
 
 3 He is my rock, and he my tower ; 
 
 The basef how firm ! the walls how sure ! 
 The battlements how high they rise ! 
 And hide their summits | in the skies. 
 
 4 Deliverances to God belong ; 
 
 He is my strength, and he my song ; 
 
 The horn of my salvation he, 
 
 And all my foes dispersed shall flee. 
 
 » Wiuding*, pfrplesities. 
 
 + Foundation. 
 
 t Top. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 989 
 
 6 Through the long march my lips shall sing 
 My great Protector and my King, 
 Till Zion's mount my feet ascend, 
 And all my painful warfare end. 
 
 6 Raised on the shining turrets there, 
 Through all the prospect wide and fair, 
 A land of peace his hosts suney. 
 And bless the grace that led the way. 
 
 HYMN XXXII. 
 
 Support in death. Psalm xxiii. 4. 
 
 1 Behold the gloomy vale. 
 Which thou, my soul, must tread. 
 
 Beset with terrors fierce and pale, 
 That leads thee to the dead. 
 
 2 Ye pleasing scenes, adieu,* 
 Which I so long have known : 
 
 My friends, a long farewell to you, 
 For I must pass alone. 
 
 3 And thou, beloved clay. 
 Long partner of my cares, 
 
 In this rough part art torn away 
 With agony and tears. 
 
 4 But see, a ray of light, 
 With splendours all divine, 
 
 Breaks through these doleful realms of night, 
 And makes its horrors shine. 
 
 5 Where death and darkness reigns, 
 Jehovah is my stay : 
 
 His rod my trembling feet sustains, 
 His staff defends my way. 
 
 6 Dear Shepherd, lead me on ; 
 My soul disdains to fear ; 
 
 Death's gloomy phantoms all are flown, 
 Now life's great Lord is near. 
 
 HYMN XXXIII. 
 
 Tlie good man's prospect for time and eterniti/. 
 Psalm xxiii. 6. 
 
 1 My soul, triumphant in the Lord, 
 
 .Shall tell its joys abroad ; 
 And march with holy vigour on. 
 Supported by its God. 
 
 2 Through all the winding maze f of life. 
 
 His hand hath been my guide. 
 And in that long-experienced care, 
 My heart shall still confide. 
 
 3 His grace through all the desert flows, 
 
 An unexhausted stream : 
 That grace on Zion's sacred mount 
 Shall be my endless theme.t 
 
 » Farewell. + Wilderniss. t Subject. 
 
 4 Beyond the choicest joys of earth 
 
 These distant courts I love ; 
 But O ! I burn with strong desire 
 To view thy house above. 
 
 5 Mingled with all the shining band. 
 
 My soul would there adore ; 
 A pillar in thy temple fixed. 
 To be removed no more. 
 
 HYMN XXXIV. 
 
 The goodness which God has wrought and laid tip 
 for his people. Psalm xxxi. 1. 
 
 1 Our souls with pleasing wonder view 
 
 Tlie bounties of thy grace ; 
 How much bestowed ! how much reserved 
 For them that seek tby face ! 
 
 2 Thy liberal hand with worldly bliss 
 
 Oft makes their cup run o'er; 
 And in the covenant of thy love 
 They find diviner store. 
 
 3 Here mercy hides their numerous sins; 
 
 Here grace their souls renews ; 
 Here thy own reconciled face 
 Doth heavenly beams diffuse. 
 
 4 But O ! what treasures yet unknown 
 
 Are lodged in worlds to come ! 
 If these the enjoyments of the way, 
 How happy is their home ! 
 
 5 And what shall mortal worms reply? 
 
 Or how such goodness own? 
 But 'tis our joy that. Lord, to thee, 
 Thy servants' hearts are known. 
 
 6 Thine eyes shall read those grateful thoughts 
 
 No language can express: 
 Yet, when our liveliest thanks we pay, 
 Our debts do most increase. 
 
 7 Since time 's too short, all-gracious God, 
 
 To utter half thy praise. 
 Loud to tlie honour of thy name 
 Eternal hymns we'll raise. 
 
 HYMN XXXV. 
 Relishing the divine goodness. Psal. xxxiv. 8, 9. 
 
 1 Triumphant Lord, thy goodness reigns 
 Through all the wide celestial plains ; 
 And its full streams redundant flow 
 Down to the abodes of men below. 
 
 2 Through nature's works its glories shine ; 
 The cares of providence are thine : 
 
 And grace erects our ruined frame 
 A fairer temple to thy name. 
 
 3 O give to every human heart 
 
 To taste and feel how good thou art ; 
 
9!>0 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 With giatcfiil love and reverent fear, 
 To know liow blest thy children are. 
 
 4 Let nature burst into a song: 
 
 Ye echoinff hills, the notes prolons; : 
 Earth, seas, and stars, your anthems raise, 
 All voeal * with your Maker's praise. 
 
 5 Ye saints, with joy the theme pursue ; 
 Its sweetest notes belong to you ; 
 Chose by this eondescendiny I^'Hg 
 For ever round his throne to sing. 
 
 HYMN XXXVI. 
 
 God saying to the soul, that he is its salvation. 
 Psalm XXXV. 3. 
 
 1 Salvation ! O melodious sound 
 
 To wretched dying men ! 
 Salvation, that from God proceeds. 
 And leads to God again ! 
 
 2 Rescued from hell's eternal gloom. 
 
 From fiends,! and fires, and chains: 
 Raised to a paradise of bliss, 
 Where love and glory reigns ! 
 
 3 But O ! may a degenerate soul, 
 
 Sinful and weak as mine. 
 Presume to raise a trembling eye 
 To blessings so divine ? 
 
 4 The lustre of so bright a bliss 
 
 My feeble heart o'erbears ; 
 And unbelief almost perverts 
 The promise into tears. 
 
 6 My Saviour God, no voice but thine 
 
 These dying hopes can raise : 
 Speak thy salvation to my soul. 
 And turn its tears to praise. 
 
 6 My Saviour God, this broken voice 
 Transported shall proclaim, 
 And call on the angelic harps 
 To sound so sweet a name. 
 
 HYMN XXXVII. 
 
 God's complaceyicy in the prosperity of his scrva7its. 
 Psalm XXXV. 27. 
 
 1 The Lord with pleasure views his saints, 
 
 And calls them all his own ; 
 And low he bows to their complaints, 
 And pities every groan. 
 
 2 In all the joys they here possess 
 
 He takes a tender part ; 
 And when they rise to heavenly bliss 
 Complacence fills his heart. 
 
 3 My God, are all my pleasures thine, 
 
 My comforts thy delight .' 
 O be thy happiness divine 
 Most precious in thy sight. 
 
 4 They most in all thy bliss shall share, 
 
 \\ hose hearts can love thee most ; 
 O could I vie I in ardour here 
 AVith all the angelic host ! 
 
 HYMN XXXVIII. 
 
 The days of the upright known to God, and their 
 everlasting inheritance. Psalm xxxvii. 18. 
 
 1 To thee, my God, my days are known, 
 
 ]VIy soul enjoys the thought ; 
 My actions all before thy face. 
 Nor are my faults forgot. 
 
 2 Each secret breath devotion vents, 
 
 Is vocal to thine ear ; 
 And all my walks of daily life 
 Before thine eye appear. 
 
 3 The vacant hour, the active scene, 
 
 Thy mercy shall approve ; 
 And every pang of sympathy. 
 And every care of love. 
 
 4 Each golden hour of beaming light 
 
 Is guided by thy rays ; 
 And dark affliction's midnight gloom 
 A present God surveys. 
 
 5 Full in thy view through life I pass, 
 
 And in thy view I die ; 
 And when each mortal bond is broke. 
 Shall find my God is nigh. 
 
 6 Stripped of its little earthly all, 
 
 My soul in smiles shall go ; 
 And in a heavenly heritage 
 Its Father's bounty know. 
 
 HYMN XXXIX. 
 
 Our desire and groaning hefore God, when pro- 
 ceeding from the greatest distress. Psalm xxxviii. 
 9, 10. 
 
 1 My soul, the awful hour will come. 
 
 Apace it passeth on. 
 To bear this body to the tomb. 
 And thee to scenes unknown. 
 
 2 My heart, long labouring with its woes. 
 
 Shall pant and sink away ; 
 And you, my eyelids, soon shall close 
 On the last glimmering ray. 
 
 3 Whence in that hour shall I receive 
 
 A cordial for my pain. 
 
 * Sounding, as if endowed with speech. + Evil spirits. 
 
 5 Endeavour to lie equal. 
 
When, if earth's raonarchs were my friends, 
 Those friends would weep in vain ? 
 
 4 Great King of nature and of grace, 
 
 To thee my spirit Hies, 
 And opens all its deep distress 
 Before thy pitying eyes. 
 
 5 All its desires to thee are known, 
 
 And every secret fear. 
 The meaning of each broken groan 
 Well noticed by thine ear. 
 
 6 O fix me by that mighty power 
 
 Which to such love belongs, 
 Where darkness veils the eyes no more, 
 And groans are changed to songs. 
 
 PSALMS. 991 
 
 Ye valleys rise, 
 And sink, ye hills. 
 
 3 Fair truth, and smiling love. 
 And injured righteousness, 
 In thy retinue move, 
 And seek from thee redress. 
 
 Thou in their cause 
 Shalt prosperous ride, 
 And far and wide 
 Dispense thy laws. 
 
 4 Before thine awful face 
 Millions of foes shall fall. 
 The captives of thy grace, 
 That grace which conquers all. 
 
 The world shall know. 
 Great King of kings. 
 What wondrous things 
 Thine arm can do. 
 
 HYMN XL. 
 
 God magnified hy those that Jove his salvation 
 Psalm xl. 16. 
 
 1 God of salvation, we adore 
 Thy saving love, thy saving power ; 
 And to our utmost stretch of thought 
 Hail the redemption thou hast wrought. 
 
 2 We love the stroke that breaks our chain. 
 The sword by which our sins are slain : 
 And while abased in dust we bow, 
 We sing the grace that lays us low. 
 
 3 Perish each thought of human pride : 
 Let God alone be magnified : 
 His glory let the heavens resound, 
 Shouted from earth's remotest bound. 
 
 4 Saints, who his full salvation know, 
 Saints, who but taste it here below, 
 .loin every angel's voice to raise 
 Continued never-ending praise. 
 
 HYMN XLI. 
 
 The triumph of Christ in the cause of truth, meekness, 
 and righteousness. Psalm xlv. 3, 4. 
 
 1 Loi'D to the Prince of heaven 
 Your cheerful voices raise ; 
 To him your vows be given. 
 And fill bis courts with praise. 
 
 With conscious worth 
 All clad in arms. 
 All bright in charms, 
 He sallies forth. 
 
 2 Gird on thy conquering sword, 
 Ascend thy shining car,* 
 
 And march. Almighty Lord, 
 To wage thy holy war. 
 
 Before his wheels, 
 
 In glad surprise, 
 
 * Chariot. 
 
 5 Here to my willing soul 
 Bend thy triumphant way ; 
 Here every foe control. 
 And all thy power display. 
 
 My heart, thy throne. 
 
 Blest Jesus, see. 
 
 Bows low to thee. 
 
 To thee alone. 
 
 HYMN XLI I. 
 
 Quietness under affliction, a proper achnoxvledgment 
 of God. Psalm xlvi. 10. 
 
 1 Peace, 'tis the Lord Jehovah's hand 
 
 That blasts our joys in death ; 
 Changes the visage once so dear, 
 Ard gathers back our breath. 
 
 2 'Tis he, the Potentate supreme 
 
 Of all the worlds above. 
 Whose steady counsels wisely rule, 
 Nor from their purpose move. 
 
 3 'Tis lie whose justice might demand 
 
 Our souls a sacrifice ; 
 Yet scatters with unwearied hand 
 A thousand rich supplies. 
 
 4 Our covenant God and Father he 
 
 In Christ our bleeding Lord ; 
 Whose grace can heal the bursting heart 
 With one reviving word. 
 
 !y Fair garlands of immortal bliss 
 He weaves for every brow ; 
 And shall tumultuous passions rise. 
 If he correct us now ? 
 
 6 Silent I own Jehovah's name ; 
 I kiss thy scourging hand ; 
 And yield my comforts and my life 
 To thy supreme command. 
 
992 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN XLHI. 
 
 The year crowned with the divine ffoodncss. Psalm 
 Ixv. 11. 
 
 For New-year's Day. 
 
 1 Eternal source of every joy ! 
 
 Well may tliy praise our lips employ, 
 
 While in thy temple we appear, 
 
 Whose goodness erowns the circling year. 
 
 2 While as the wheels of nature roll, 
 Thy hand supports the steady pole : 
 The sun is taught by thee to rise, 
 And darkness when to veil the skies. 
 
 3 The flowery spring at thy command 
 Embalms the air, and paints the laud ; 
 The summer rays with vigour shine 
 To raise the corn, and cheer the vine. 
 
 4 Thy hand in autumn richly pours 
 Through all our coasts redundant stores ; 
 And winters, softened "by thy care, 
 
 No more a face of horror wear. 
 
 5 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days 
 Demand successive songs of praise ; 
 
 Still be the cheerful homage paid 
 With opening light and evening shade. 
 
 6 Here in thy house shall incense rise. 
 As circling sabbaths bless ou.' eyes ; 
 Still will we make thy mercies known. 
 Around thy board, and round our own. 
 
 7 O may our more harmonious tongues 
 In worlds unknown pursue the songs ; 
 And in those brighter courts adore. 
 Where days and years revolve no more. 
 
 HYMN XLIV. 
 
 Rebels against the supreme Sovereign admonished. 
 Psalm Ixvi. 7. 
 
 1 The Lord of glory reigns supremely great, 
 And o'er heaven's arches builds his royal seat. 
 Thro' worlds unknown his sovereign sway extends, 
 Nor space nor time his boundless empire ends. 
 His eye beholds the affairs of every nation, 
 And reads each thought thro' his immense creation. 
 
 2 Lightnings and storms his mighty word obey, 
 And planets roll where he has marked their way ; 
 Unnumbered cherubs veiled before him stand. 
 At his first signal all their wings expand : 
 
 His praise gives harmony to all their voices, 
 And every heart through the full choir* rejoices. 
 
 3 Rebellious mortals, cease your tumults vain, 
 Nor longer such unequal war maintain : 
 
 * Company of singers 
 
 4 Let clay with fclJow-clay in combat strive, 
 But dread to brave the power by which you live: 
 With contrite hearts fall prostrate, and adoic him, 
 For if he frowns, ye perish all before liim. 
 
 HYMN XLV. 
 
 God the happiness of his people, and their support 
 in the extremes t distress. Psalm Ixxiii. 25, 26. 
 
 1 My Cod, whose all-pervading f eye 
 Views earth beneath, and heaven above. 
 Witness, if here or there thou seest 
 
 An object of mine equal love. 
 
 2 Not the gay scenes, where mortal men 
 Pursue their bliss, and find their woe, 
 Detain my rising heart, which springs 
 The nobler joys of heaven to view. 
 
 3 Not all the fairest sons of light, 
 That lead the army round thy throne, 
 Can bound its flight: it presseth on, 
 And seeks its rest in God alone. 
 
 4 Fixed near the immortal source of bliss, 
 Dauntless and joyous it surveys 
 
 Each form of horror and distress. 
 
 That earth, combined with hell, can raise. 
 
 5 This feeble flesh shall faint, and die ; 
 This heart renew its pulse no more : 
 Even now it views the moment nigh. 
 When life's last movements all are o'er. 
 
 6 But come, thou vanquished king of dread, 
 With thy own hand thy power destroy ; 
 'Tis thine to bear my soul to God, 
 
 My portion, and eternal joy. 
 
 HYMN XLVI. 
 
 The rage of enemies restrained, and overruled to the 
 divine glory. Psalm Ixxvi. 10. 
 
 Thanksgiving for the suppression of the Rebellion, 174<5. 
 
 1 Accept, great God, thy Britain's songs, 
 While grateful joy unites our tongues, 
 
 To own the work thy hand hath done : 
 Thy hand hath crushed our cruel foes. 
 When in rebellious troops they rose. 
 
 And swore to tread our glory down. 
 
 2 With hell confederate on their side. 
 People and prince their rage defied. 
 
 And in proud hope devoured us all : 
 Thy hand its banner hath displayed. 
 Beckoned its hero to our aid. 
 
 And in one day their legions fall. 
 
 3 Thus shalt thou still maintain thy throne, 
 And prove, that thou art God alone, 
 
 Though earth and hell new efforts try ; 
 
 + All-seeing. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 993 
 
 'Midst all the tumults they can raise, 
 Envenomed wrath exalts thy praise, 
 Till hushed at thy rebuke it die. 
 
 3 So swell the surges* of the sea, 
 And roar in their impetuous way, 
 
 As they would deluge earth again : 
 So strike they on the unshaken rock, 
 Dashed by the fierceness of their shock. 
 
 And foam to feel their fury vain. 
 
 HYMN XLVII. 
 
 God furnishing a table in the wilderness. Psalm 
 Ixxviii. 19, 20. 
 
 1 Parent of universal good. 
 
 We own thy bounteous hand, 
 Which does so rich a table spread 
 Even in this desert land. 
 
 2 Struck by thy power, the flinty rocks 
 
 In gushing torrents flow ; 
 The feathered wanderers of the air 
 Thy guiding instinct know. 
 
 3 The pregnant clouds, at thy command. 
 
 Rain down delicious bread ; 
 And by light drops of pearly dew 
 Are numerous armies fed. 
 
 4 Supported thus, thine Israel marched 
 
 The promised land to gain ; 
 And shall thy children now begin 
 To seek their God in vain ? 
 
 5 Are all thy stores exhausted now ? 
 
 Or does thy mercy fail ? 
 That faith should languish in our breasts, 
 And anxious cares prevail? 
 
 6 Ye base unworthy fears, be gone. 
 
 And wide disperse in air ; 
 Then may I feel my Father's rod. 
 When I suspect his care. 
 
 HYMN XLVIII. 
 God speaheth peace to his people. Psalm Ixxxv. 8. 
 
 1 Unite, my roving thoughts, unite 
 
 In silence soft and sweet : 
 And thou, my soul, sit gently down 
 At thy great Sovereign's feet. 
 
 2 Jehovah's awful voice is heard, 
 
 Yet gladly I attend ; 
 For lo ! the everlasting God 
 Proclaims himself my friend. 
 
 3 Harmonious accents to my soul 
 
 The sounds of peace convey ; 
 
 * Great waves. 
 
 3 s 
 
 The tempest at his word subsides. 
 And winds and seas obey. 
 
 4 By ail its joys, 1 charge my heart, 
 To grieve his love no more ; 
 But, charmed by melody divine. 
 To give its follies o'er. 
 
 HYMN XLIX. 
 
 The church the birth-place of the saints, and God's 
 care of it. Psalm Ixxxvii. 5. 
 
 On opening a new place of worship. 
 
 1 And will the great eternal God 
 On earth establish his abode ? 
 
 And will he from his radiant throne 
 Avow our temples for his own ? 
 
 2 We bring the tribute of our praise, ■ 
 And sing that condescending grace. 
 Which to our notes will lend an ear. 
 And call us sinful mortals near. 
 
 3 Our Father's watchful care we bless 
 Which guards our synagogues in peace. 
 That no tumultuous foes invade. 
 
 To fill our worshippers with dread. 
 
 4 These walls we to thy honour raise ; 
 Long may they eclio with thy praise ; 
 And thou descending fill the place 
 With choicest tokens of thy grace. 
 
 6 Here let the great Redeemer reign 
 With all the graces of his train ; 
 While power divine his word attends 
 To conquer foes, and cheer his friends. 
 
 6 And in the great decisive day. 
 When God the nations shall survey, 
 May it before the world appear. 
 That crowds were born to glory here. 
 
 HYMN L. 
 
 The Gospel jubilee. Psalm Ixxxix. 15. compared 
 with Lev. xxv. aiid Isa. Ixi. 2. 
 
 1 Loud let the tuneful trumpet sound, 
 And spread the joyful tidings round ; 
 Let every soul with transport hear. 
 And hail the Lord's accepted year. 
 
 2 Ye debtors, whom he gives to know, 
 That you ten thousand talents owe. 
 When humbled at his feet ye fall. 
 Your gracious Lord forgives them all. 
 
 3 Slaves, that have borne the heavy chain 
 Of sin and hell's tyrannic reign. 
 
 To liberty assert your claim. 
 
 And urge the great Redeemer's name. 
 
994 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 4 Tlic ricli iiihciitaiicc you lost. 
 Restored, iiiipioveil, jou now may boast; 
 Fair Salein your arrival waits, 
 
 To •joldeii streets, and pearly gates. 
 
 5 Her blest inhabitants no more 
 ]}ondaf;c and poverty deplore : 
 
 No debt, but love immensely u,reat, 
 Whose joy still rises with the debt. 
 
 fi O liapi)y souls, tliat know the sound ! 
 God's light shall all their steps surround ; 
 And show that jubilee begun, 
 Which through eternal years shall run. 
 
 HYMN LI. 
 
 God the diceUing-jtlace of his people through all 
 generations. Psalm xc. 1. 
 
 1 Thou, Lord, through every changing scene. 
 Hast to thy saints a refuge been : 
 Through every age, eternal God, 
 
 Their pleasing home, ihcir safe abode. 
 
 2 In thee our fathers sought their rest ; 
 In thee our fathers still are blest ; 
 And while the tomb confines their dust, 
 In tliee their souls abide, and trust. 
 
 3 Lo, we are risen, a feeble race, 
 A while to fill our fathers' place ; 
 Our helpless state with pity view. 
 And let us share their refuge too, 
 
 4 Tlirough all the thorny paths we trace 
 In this uncertain wilderness, 
 
 When friends desert, and foes invade. 
 Revive our heart, and guard our head. 
 
 5 So when this pilgrimage is o'er, 
 And we must dwell in flesh no more. 
 To tlice our separate souls shall come, 
 And find in thee a surer home. 
 
 6 To thee our infant race we leave : 
 Them may their fathers' God receive ; 
 That voices yet unformed may raise 
 Succeeding hymns of humble praise. 
 
 HYMN LII. 
 Reflections on our waste of years. Psalm xc. 9. 
 For New.year'B Day. 
 
 1 Remark, my soul, the narrow bounds 
 
 Of the revolving year ! 
 How swift the weeks complete their rounds ! 
 How short the months appear ! 
 
 2 So fast eternity comes on, 
 
 .\nd that important day. 
 When all, that mortal life has done, 
 God's judgment shall survey. 
 
 3 Yet like an idle tale we pass 
 
 The swift advancing year ; 
 And study artful ways to increase 
 The speed of its career. 
 
 4 Waken, O God, my trifiing heart 
 
 Its great concern to see ; 
 That I may act the Christian part, 
 And give the year to thee. 
 
 5 So shall their course more grateful roll. 
 
 If future years arise ; 
 Or this sliall bear my smiling soul 
 To joy, that never dies. 
 
 HYMN LIII. 
 
 Joy and prosperity from the presence and hlessiny of 
 God. Psalm xc. 17. 
 
 1 Shine on our souls, eternal God, 
 
 With rays of beauty shine : 
 O let thy favour crown our days, 
 And all their round be thine. 
 
 2 Did we not raise our hands to thee, 
 
 Our hearts might toil in vain ; 
 Small joy success itself could give, 
 If thou thy love restrain. 
 
 3 With thee let every week begin. 
 
 With thee each day be spent. 
 For thee each fleeting hour improved, 
 Since each by thee is lent. 
 
 4 Thus cheer us through this de.sert road. 
 
 Till all our labours cease ; 
 And heaven refresh our weary souls 
 With everlasting peace. 
 
 HYMN LIV. 
 
 The nnitahility of the creation, and the itnmutahility 
 of God. Psalm cii. 25 — 28. 
 
 1 Gkkat Former of this various frame, 
 Our souls adore thine av/ful name ; 
 And bow and tremble, while they praise 
 The Ancient of eternal days. 
 
 2 Thou, Lord, with unsurprised survey, 
 Sawest nature rising yesterday ; 
 And, as to-morrow, shall thine eye 
 See earth and stars in ruin lie. 
 
 3 Beyond an angel's vision bright. 
 Thou dwellest in self-existent light ; 
 Which shines with undiminished ray. 
 While suns and worlds in smoke decay. 
 
 4 Our days a transient period run. 
 And change with every circling sun ; 
 And in the firmest state we boast 
 
 A moth can crush us into dust. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 005 
 
 5 But let the creatures fall around : 
 Let death consign us to the ground : 
 Let the last general ilame arise, 
 And melt the arches of the skies : 
 
 6 Calm as the summer's ocean, we 
 Can all the wreck* of nature see. 
 While grace secures us an abode, 
 Unshaken as the throne of God. 
 
 HYMN LV. 
 
 The frailty of human nature, and God's gracious 
 regard to it. Psalm ciii. 14. 
 
 1 Lord, we adore thy wondrous name. 
 
 And make that name our trust, 
 Which raised at first this curious frame 
 From mean and lifeless dust. 
 
 2 By dust supported, still it stands. 
 
 Wrought up to various forms, 
 Prepared by thy creating hands 
 To uourish mortal worms. 
 
 3 Awhile these frail machines endure, 
 
 The fabric of a daj' ; 
 Then know their vital powers no more. 
 But moulder back to clay. 
 
 4 Yet, Lord, whate'er is felt or feared, 
 
 This thought is our repose. 
 That be, by whom this frame was reared, 
 Its various weakness knows. 
 
 5 Thou viewest us with a pitying eye, 
 
 While struggling with our load ; 
 In pains and dangers thou art nigli, 
 Our Father, and our God. 
 
 6 Gently supported by thy love. 
 
 We tend to realms of peace ; 
 Where every pain shall far remove, 
 And every frailty cease. 
 
 HYMN LVI. 
 
 God adored for his goodness, and his wonderful 
 works to the children of men. Psalm cvii. 31. 
 
 1 Ye sons of men, with joy record 
 The various wonders of the Lord ; 
 And let his power and goodness sound 
 Through all your tribes the earth around. 
 
 2 Let the high heavens your songs invite, 
 Those spacious fields of brilliant light ; 
 Wliere sun, and moon, and planets roll. 
 And stars, that glow from pole to pole. 
 
 .3 Sing earth in verdant robes arrayed. 
 Its herbs and (lowers, its fruit and shade ; 
 Peopled with life of various forms. 
 Fishes and fowl, and beasts and worms. 
 
 4 View the broad sea's majestic plains. 
 And think how wide its Maker reigns ! 
 That band remotest nations joins. 
 And on each wave his goodness shines. 
 
 5 But O ! that brighter world above, 
 
 , Where lives and reigns incarnate love ! 
 God's only Son in flesh arrayed. 
 For man a bleeding victim f made. 
 
 G Thither, my soul, with rapture soar ; 
 There in the land of praise adore ; 
 This theme demands an angel's lay,! 
 Demands an undecliniog day. 
 
 HYMN LVII. 
 
 The hoh) soul returning to its rest in a grateful 
 sense of divine bounties. Psalm cxvi. 7. 
 
 1 Return, ray soul, and seek thy rest 
 Upon thy heavenly Father's breast : 
 Indulge me, Lord, in that repose 
 
 The soul which loves thee only knows. 
 
 2 Lodged in thine arms, I fear no more 
 The tempest's howl, the billows' roar: 
 Those storms must shake the Almighty's seat, 
 Which violate the saint's retreat. 
 
 3 Thy bounties. Lord, to me surmount 
 The power of language to recount ; 
 From morning dawn, the setting sun 
 Sees but my work of praise begun. 
 
 4 The mercies all my moments bring. 
 Ask an eternity to sing ; 
 
 What thanks those mercies can suflice. 
 Which through eternity shall rise ? 
 
 5 Rich in ten thousand gifts possessed. 
 In future hopes more richly blessed, 
 I '11 sit and sing till death shall raise 
 A note of more proportioned praise. 
 
 HYMN LVIII. 
 
 Deliverance celebrated. Psalm cxvi. 8. 
 
 1 Look back, my soul, with grateful love, 
 
 On what thy God has done ; 
 Praise liim for his unnumbered gifts, 
 And praise him for his Son. 
 
 2 How oft hath his indulgent hand 
 
 My flowing eye-lids dried. 
 And rescued from impending death. 
 When I in danger cried ! 
 
 ;) When on tiie bed of death I lay, 
 With sickness .sore oppressed, 
 IIow oft Iiath he assuaged my grief, 
 And lulled my eyes to rest ! 
 
 ' Destruction. 
 
 3 s 2 
 
 t Sacrjficf. 
 
 i Son^. 
 
9m> 
 
 4 Back from (Icstniction's yawning pit 
 
 At his coniniaiid 1 came ; 
 He fed the expirinij lamp anew, 
 And raised its fecbh; llame. 
 
 5 My broken spirit he hath cheered, 
 
 When torn with inward };'rief ; 
 And when temptations pressed me sore, 
 Hath brought me swift relief. 
 
 6 My soul from everlasting death 
 
 Is by his mercy brought. 
 To tell in Zion's sacred gates 
 The wonders he hath wrought. 
 
 7 Still will I walk before his face, 
 
 While he tliis life prolongs ; 
 Till grace shall all its work complete, 
 And teach me heavenly songs. 
 
 HYTVIN LIX. 
 
 Deliverance cehhrated, and t/oofl resolutions formed. 
 Psalm cxvi. 8, 9. 
 
 1 Great source of life, our souls confess 
 The various riches of thy grace ; 
 Crowned with thy mercy we rejoice. 
 And in thy praise exalt our voice. 
 
 2 By thee heaven's shining arch was spread ; 
 By thee were earth's foundations laid. 
 And all the charms of men's abode 
 Proclaim the wise, the gracious God. 
 
 .1 Thy tender hand restores our breath. 
 When trembling on the verge of death ; 
 Gently it wipes away our tears. 
 And lengthens life to future years. 
 
 4 These lives are sacred to the Lord; 
 Kindled by him, by him restored ; 
 And while our hours renew their race. 
 Still would we walk before his face. 
 
 5 So when by him our souls are led 
 Through unknown regions of the dead. 
 With joy triumphant shall they move 
 To seats of nobler life above. 
 
 HYMN LX. 
 
 Praise for recovery from sickness. Psalm exviii. 
 18, 19. 
 
 1 Sovereign of life, I own thy hand 
 
 In every chastening stroke ; 
 And while I smart beneath thy rod, 
 Thy presence I invoke. 
 
 2 To thee in my distress I cried, 
 
 And thou hast bowed thine ear ; 
 Thy powerful word my life prolonged, 
 And brought salvation near. 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 3 Unfold, ye gates of righteousness, 
 That, with the pious throng, 
 
 I may record my solemn vows. 
 And tune my grateful song. 
 
 4 Praise to the Lord, whose gentle hand 
 Renews our labouring breath : 
 
 Praise to the Lord, who makes his saints 
 Triumphant even in death. 
 
 C> My God, in thine appointed hour 
 Those heavenly gates display. 
 Where pain and sin, and fear and death. 
 For ever flee away. 
 
 (> There, while the nations of the blessed 
 Willi raptures bow around. 
 My anthems to delivering grace 
 In sweeter strains shall sound. 
 
 HYMN LXI. 
 
 Ref/ard to Scripture pressed upon young persons 
 that they may cleanse their way. Psalm exix. 9. 
 
 1 Indulgent God, with pitying eye 
 The sons of men survey. 
 
 And see how youthful sinners sport 
 In a destructive way. 
 
 2 Ten thousand dangers lurk around 
 To bear them to the tomb ; 
 
 Each in an hour may plunge them down. 
 Where hope can never come. 
 
 3 Reduce, O Lord, their wandering minds, 
 Amused with airy dreams. 
 
 That heavenly wisdom may dispel 
 Their visionary schemes. 
 
 4 With holy caution may they walk. 
 And be thy word their guide ; 
 
 Till each, the desert safely passed. 
 On Zion's hill abide. 
 
 HYMN LXII. 
 
 Desires of beiny quickened by the word of God. ' 
 Psalm exix. 25. 
 
 1 With pity. Lord, thy .servant view. 
 As in the dust I lie. 
 
 Nor while I raise my plaintive * voice, 
 Disdain the broken cry. 
 
 2 Fain would I mount on eagle's wings, 
 And view thy lovely face ; 
 
 But cumbrous burthens drag me down 
 From thine adored embrace. 
 
 3 Thy quickening energy diffuse 
 O'er all my inmost frame ; 
 
 And animate these languid lips 
 To celebrate thy name. 
 
 * Mournful. 
 
4 Thy living word has wonders wrought; 
 
 Those wonders here renew ; 
 And pour fresh vigour through my soul, 
 While I its glories view. 
 
 5 From thee, great ever-flowing spring, 
 
 Let vital streams descend ; 
 And cheer me to begin these songs, 
 Which death shall never end. 
 
 HYMN LXIII. 
 
 Human perfection no where to he found. Psali 
 cxix. 96. 
 
 1 Perfection ! 'tis an empty name, 
 
 Nor can repay our cares ; 
 And he that seeks it here below, 
 Must end the search with tears. 
 
 2 Great David, on his royal throne, 
 
 The beauteous, and the strong. 
 Rich in the spoils of conquered foes. 
 Amidst the applauding throng ; 
 
 3 With all the mind's capacious powers, 
 
 Pursued the shade in vain ; 
 Nor heard it his melodious voice, 
 Or harp's angelic strain. 
 
 4 From public to domestic scenes 
 
 The impatient monarch turns ; 
 The friend, the husband, and the sire * 
 In .sad succession mourns. 
 
 6 At length thy law, eternal God, 
 
 He through his tears descries, + 
 And wrapt amidst those sacred folds, 
 
 He finds the heavenly prize. 
 6 There will I seek perfection too. 
 
 Where David's God is known ; 
 Nor envy, with this volume blest, 
 
 His treasures and his throne. 
 
 HYMN LXIV. 
 
 Beholding transgressions with grief. Psalm 
 cxix. 136, 158. 
 
 1 Arise, my tenderest thoughts, arise ; 
 To torrents melt my streaming eyes ; 
 And thou, my heart, with anguish feel 
 Those evils, which thou canst not heal. 
 
 2 See human nature sunk in shame ; 
 See scandals poured on Jesus' name ; 
 The Father wounded througii the Son, 
 The world abused, the soul undone. 
 
 3 See the short course of vain delight 
 Closing in everlasting night ; 
 
 In flames that no abatement know, 
 Though briny tears for ever How. 
 
 4 My God, I feel the mournful scene ; 
 My bowels yearn o'er dying men ; 
 
 » Father. + Diwerns. 
 
 .MS. 997 
 
 And fain my pity would reclaim. 
 And snatch the firebrands from the flame. 
 5 But feeble my compassion proves. 
 And can but weep, where most it loves ; 
 Thy own all-saving arm employ. 
 And turn these drops of grief to joy. 
 
 HYMN LXV. 
 The wandering sheep recovered. Psal. cxix. 176. 
 
 1 Lord, we have wandered from the way, 
 Like foolish sheep, we 've gone astray ; 
 Our pleasant pastures we have left. 
 And of their guard our souls bereft. J; 
 
 2 Exposed to want, exposed to harm. 
 Far from our gentle Shepherd's arm : 
 Nor will these fatal wanderings cease, 
 Till thou reveal the paths of peace. 
 
 3 O seek thy thoughtless servants. Lord, 
 Nor let us quite forget thy word ; 
 
 Our erring souls do thou restore, 
 And keep us, that we stray no more^ 
 
 HYMN LXVI. 
 
 The weeping seed-time, and joyful harvest. 
 Psalm cxxvi. 5, 6. 
 
 1 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers! 
 Troubled with storms, and big with showers ; 
 No cheerful gleam of light appears. 
 
 But nature pours forth all her tears. 
 
 2 Yet let the sons of grace revive ; 
 
 God bids the soul that seeks him live ; 
 And from the gloomiest shade of night 
 Calls forth a morning of delight. 
 
 3 The seeds of ecstasy nnknown. 
 Are in these watered furrows sown ; 
 
 See the green blades, how thick they rise, 
 And with fresh verdure bless our eyes. 
 
 4 In secret foldings they contain 
 Unnumbered ears of golden grain ; 
 
 And heaven shall pour its beams around, 
 Till the ripe harvest load the ground. 
 
 5 Then shall the trembling mourner come. 
 And find his sheaves, and bear them home : 
 The voice long broke with sighs shall sing. 
 Till heaven with hallelujahs ring. 
 
 HYMN LXVII. 
 
 Thanhs to God for his ever-enduring goodness. 
 Psalm cxxxvi. 1. 
 
 For New-year's Day. 
 
 1 House of our God, with cheerful anthems ring. 
 While all our lips and hearts his graces sing : 
 
 t Deprived. 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 The openinn- ycnr his j^raccs shall proclaim, 
 And all its days be vocal witli his name. 
 
 The Lord is good, his mercy never ending ; 
 
 His blessings in perpetual showers descending. 
 
 2 The heaven of heavens he with his bonnty tills: 
 Ye seraphs bright on cver-blooming hills. 
 
 His honours sound ; you to whom good alone, 
 Unmingled, ever-growing, has been known. 
 Through your immortal life, with love increasing, 
 Proclaim your Maker's goodness never ceasing. 
 
 3 Thou earth, enlightened by his rays divine, 
 Pregnant with grass, and corn, and oil, and wine. 
 Crowned with his goodness, let thy nations meet, 
 And lay their crowns at his paternal feet : 
 
 With grateful love that liberal hand confessing, 
 AVhich through each heart difluscth every blessing. 
 
 4 Zion, enriched with his distinguished grace, 
 Blest with the rays of thine Emanuel's face, 
 Zion, Jeiiovah's portion, and delight, 
 Graven on his hands, and hourly in his sight, 
 
 In sacred strains exalt that grace excelling. 
 Which makes thy humble hill his chosen dwelling. 
 
 5 His mercy never ends : the dawn, the shade 
 Still see new bounties through new scenes dis- 
 played : 
 
 Succeeding ages bless this sure abode. 
 And children lean upon their fathers' God. 
 The deathless soul through its immense duration, 
 Drinks from this source immortal consolation. 
 
 6 Burst into praise, my soul ; all nature join ; 
 Angels and men in harmony combine : 
 While human years are measured by the sun, 
 And while eternity its course shall run. 
 
 His goodness, in perpetual showers descending, 
 Exalt in songs, and raptures never ending. 
 
 HYMN LXVIII. 
 
 Gofl strengtheniny the souls of his praijing people. 
 Psalm cxxxviii. 3. 
 
 1 My soul, review the trembling days, 
 
 In which my God I sought: 
 I cried aloud for aid divine, 
 And aid divine he brought. 
 
 2 Through all my weak and fainting heart 
 
 His secret strength he spread, 
 And clasped uie in bis arms of love. 
 And raised my drooping head. 
 
 3 He called himself my covenant God, 
 
 His promises he showed ; 
 And wide displayed their solemn seal 
 In the great Surety's blood. 
 
 4 I heard his people shoift around, 
 
 And joined their cheerful song ; 
 And saw from far the sliining seats 
 Which to his saints belong. 
 
 Cy My God, what inward strength thou giv'st, 
 I to tliy service vow ; 
 And in thy strength would upward march, 
 Till at thy throne I bow. 
 
 HYMN LXIX. 
 Shif/inr/ in the ways of God. Psalm cxxxviii. 6. 
 
 1 Now let our voices join 
 
 To form one pleasant song : 
 Ye pilgrims in Jehovah's ways. 
 With music pass along. 
 
 2 How straight the path appears ! 
 How open, and how fair ! 
 
 No lurking gins to entrap our feet ; 
 No fierce destroyer there. 
 
 3 But flowers of paradise 
 In rich profusion spring ; 
 
 The sun of glory gilds the path, 
 And dear companions sing. 
 
 4 See Salem's golden spires 
 In beauteous prospect rise ; 
 
 And brighter crowns than mortals wear, 
 Which sparkle through the skies. 
 
 5 All honour to his name. 
 Who drew the shining trace. 
 
 To him, who leads the wanderers on, 
 And cheers them with his grace. 
 
 G Reduce the nations. Lord, 
 
 Teach all their kings thy ways. 
 That earth's full choir the notes may swell. 
 And heaven resound the praise. 
 
 HYMN LXX. 
 
 The innumerable mercies of God thanhfully acknow- 
 ledged. Psalm cxxxix. 17, 18. 
 
 1 In glad amazement. Lord, I stand, 
 Amidst the bounties of thy hand ; 
 How numberless those bounties are ! 
 How rich, how various, and how fair ! 
 
 2 But oh ! what poor returns I make ! 
 What lifeless thanks I pay thee back ! 
 Lord, I confess with humble shame, 
 My ofl'erings scarce deserve the name. 
 
 3 Fain would my labouring heart devise 
 To bring some nobler sacrifice : 
 
 It sinks beneath the mighty load : 
 What shall I render to my God ? 
 
 4 To him I consecrate my praise. 
 And vow the remnant of my days; 
 Yet what at best can I pretend 
 Wortliy such gifts from such a friend? 
 
 5 In deep abasement. Lord, I see 
 My emptiness and poverty : 
 
PSALMS. PROVERBS. 
 
 999 
 
 Enrich my soul with grace divine, 
 And make it worthier to be thine. 
 
 6 Give me at length an angel's tongue, 
 That heaven may echo with my song : 
 The theme, too great for time, shall be 
 The joy of long eternity. 
 
 HYMN LXXI. 
 
 Praising God throuyh the whole of our existence. 
 Psalm cxlvi. 2. 
 
 1 God of ray life, through all its days 
 
 My grateful powers shall sound thy praise ; 
 The song shall wake with opening light, 
 And warble to the silent night. 
 
 2 When anxious cares would break my rest, 
 And griefs would tear my throbbing breast, 
 Thy tuneful praises raised on high, 
 
 Shall check the murmur and the sigh. 
 
 3 When death o'er nature shall prevail. 
 And all its powers of language fail, 
 
 Joy through my swimming eyes shall break, 
 And mean the thanks I cannot speak. 
 
 4 But O, when that last conflict 's o'er, 
 And I am chained to flesh no more, 
 With what glad accents shall I rise, 
 To join the music of the skies ! 
 
 5 Soon shall I learn the exalted strains. 
 Which echo o'er the heavenly plains ; 
 And emulate, with joy unknown, 
 The glowing seraphs round thy throne. 
 
 6 The cheerful tribute will I give, 
 Long as a deathless soul can live ; 
 A work so sweet, a theme so high. 
 Demands, and crowns eternity. 
 
 HYMN LXXII. 
 
 The meek heautified with salvation. Psal. cxlix. 4. 
 
 1 Ye humble souls, rejoice. 
 And cheerful triumphs sing ; 
 
 Wake all your harmony of voice ; 
 For Jesus is your King. 
 
 2 That meek and lowly Lord, 
 Whom here your souls have known. 
 
 Pledges the honour of his word 
 To avow you for his own. 
 
 3 He brings salvation near. 
 
 For which his bloo I was paid : 
 How beauteous shall your .souls appear 
 Thus sumptuously arrayed ! 
 
 4 Sing, for the day is nigh, 
 When near your Leader's seat 
 
 The tallest .sons of pride shall lie. 
 The footstool of your feet. 
 
 5 Salvation, Lord, is thine ; 
 And all tliy saints confess. 
 The royal robes, in which they shine. 
 Were wrought by sovereign grace. 
 
 HYMN LXXIII. 
 
 The reproofs of wisdom min</led with promises and 
 threateninys, to reclaim wandering sinners. Prov. 
 i. 23. 
 
 1 Hark! for 'tis Wisdom's voice 
 That breaks in gentle sound : 
 
 Listen, ye sons of earth and sin. 
 And gather all around. 
 
 2 What though she speak rebukes. 
 That pierce the soul with smart ; 
 
 True love through all her chastenings runs. 
 By pain to mend the heart. 
 
 3 " Ye that have wandered long 
 In sin's destructive ways. 
 
 Turn, turn," the heavenly charmer cries, 
 " And seize the offered grace. 
 
 4 "I know your souls are weak, 
 And mortal efibrts vain 
 
 To grapple with the prince of hjell, 
 And break his cursed chain. 
 
 5 " But I '11 my Spirit pour 
 In torrents from above. 
 
 To arm you with superior strength, 
 And melt your hearts in love. 
 
 6 " Come, while these offers last, 
 Ye sinners, and be wise ; 
 
 He lives who hears this friendly call. 
 But he that slights it, dies." 
 
 HYMN LXXIV. 
 
 The voice of Christ addressed to the children of men. 
 Prov. viii. 4. 
 
 1 Now let the listening world around 
 
 In silent reverence hear ; 
 While from on high the Saviour's voice 
 Thus strikes the attentive ear. 
 
 2 " To you, O sons of men, I call, 
 
 And from my lofty throne, 
 Reclined in gentle pity, bow 
 To bring salvation down. 
 
 3 " Ye thoughtless sinners, hear my voice, 
 
 Attend my words and live; 
 My words conduct to solid joys, 
 And endless blessings give. 
 
 4 " Each faithful minister is sent 
 
 This message to proclaim ; 
 In every various providence 
 The language is the same. 
 
UH10 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 5 " And could the pale forgotten dead, 
 
 Tlu)ii<;li deep in dust tliey lie, 
 Arise in visionary crowds, 
 They 'd join the solemn cry. 
 
 6 " Forgetful mortals, yet be wise, 
 
 ^^'hile o'er the grave ye stand ; 
 Lest long-neglected love provoke 
 The vengeance of my hand. 
 
 7 " In glad submission bow ye down, 
 
 Nor steel that stubborn heart ; 
 Till mine inexorat)le voice 
 
 Pronounce the word. Depart." 
 
 8 Blest Jesus, may thy Spirit breathe 
 
 On souls which else must die ; 
 For, till thy grace reflect the sound, 
 Thy word in vain will cry. 
 
 HYMN LXXV. 
 
 The cncourarjcment young persons have to seek and 
 to love Christ. Prov. viii. 17. 
 
 1 Ye hearts, with youthful vigour warm, 
 
 In smiling crowds draw near. 
 And turn from every mortal charm, 
 A Saviour's voice to hear. 
 
 2 He, Lord of all the worlds on high, 
 
 Stoops to converse with you ; 
 And lays his radiant glories bj'. 
 Your friendship to pursue. 
 
 3 " The soul, that longs to see my face, 
 
 Is sure my love to gain ; 
 And those that early seek my grace, 
 Shall never seek in vain." 
 
 4 What object. Lord, my soul should move. 
 
 If once compared with thee ? 
 What beauty should command my love, 
 Like what in Christ I see ? 
 
 5 Away, ye false delusive toys. 
 
 Vain tempters of the mind ! 
 'Tis here I fix ray lasting choice, 
 And here true bliss I find. 
 
 HYMN LXXVI. 
 The house and feast of wisdom. Prov. ix. 1 — 6. 
 
 1 See the fair structure Wisdom rears, 
 
 Her messengers attend ; 
 And charmed by her persuasive voice. 
 To her your footsteps bend. 
 
 2 " Hear me, ye simple ones, (she cries,) 
 
 That lured * by folly stray, 
 And languish to eternal death 
 In her detested way. 
 
 * Seduced. 
 
 3 " Enter my hospitable gate, 
 
 And all my banquet share ; 
 For heavenly wine surrounds my board. 
 And angels' food is there. 
 
 4 " Freely of every dainty taste ; 
 
 Taste, and for ever live ; 
 And mingle with your joys the hopes 
 Of all a God can give. 
 
 6 " But if, seduced by Folly's arts, 
 Ye seek her poisonous food ; 
 Know, that the dreadful moment hastes. 
 Which pays the feast with blood." 
 
 HYMN LXXVII. 
 
 The excellency of the righteous with regard to their 
 temper. Prov. xii. 26. Part I. 
 
 1 How glorious, Lord, art thou ! 
 How bright thy splendours shine ! 
 
 Whose rays reflected gild thy saints 
 With ornaments divine. 
 
 2 With lowliness and love, 
 Wisdom and courage meet ; 
 
 The grateful heart, the cheerful eye. 
 How reverend and how sweet ! 
 
 3 In beauties such as these 
 Thy children now are drest; 
 
 But brighter habits shall they wear 
 In regions of the blest. 
 
 4 In nature's barren soil. 
 
 Who could such glories raise ? 
 We own, O God, the work is thine. 
 And thine be all the praise. 
 
 HYMN LXXVIII. 
 
 The excellency of the righteous with regard to their 
 relations, employments, pleasures, and hopes. Prov. 
 xii. 2G. Part II. 
 
 1 O Israel, thou art blest ; 
 Who may with thee compare ? 
 
 Thine excellences stand confessed ; 
 How bright thy glories are ! 
 
 2 O God of Israel, hear. 
 
 And make this bliss our own ; 
 Make us the children of thy care. 
 The members of thy Son. 
 
 3 Thus honoured, thus employed. 
 By these great motives fired, 
 
 Be paradise on earth enjoyed, 
 And brighter hopes inspired. 
 
 4 Thy people. Lord, we love ; 
 Their God our souls embrace ; 
 
 So may we find in worlds above 
 Among thy saints a place. 
 
HYMN LXXIX. 
 
 Walking with God ; or being in his fear all the day 
 long. Prov. xxiii. 17. 
 
 1 Thrice happy souls, who born from heaven, 
 
 While yet they sojourn here, 
 Thus all their days with God begin, 
 And spend them in his fear ! 
 
 2 So may our eyes with holy zeal 
 
 Prevent the dawning day ; 
 And turn the sacred pages'* o'er. 
 And praise thy name, and pray. 
 
 3 'Midst hourly cares may love present 
 
 Its incense to thy throne ; 
 And while the world our hands employs. 
 Our hearts be thine alone. 
 
 4 As sanctified to noblest ends 
 
 Be each refreshment sought ; 
 And by each various providence 
 Some wise instruction brought. 
 
 6 When to laborious duties called, 
 Or by temptations tried, 
 We '11 seek the shelter of thy wings. 
 And in thy strength confide. 
 
 6 As different scenes of life arise, 
 
 Our grateful hearts would be 
 With thee, amidst the social band, 
 In solitude with thee. 
 
 7 At night we lean our weary heads 
 
 On thy paternal breast ; 
 And safely folded in thine arms, 
 Resign our powers to rest. 
 
 8 In solid pure delights, like these, 
 
 Let all my days be past ; 
 Nor shall I then impatient wish, 
 Nor shall I fear the last. 
 
 HYMN LXXX. 
 The obstinate sinner alarmed. Prov. xxix. 1. 
 
 1 Now let the sons of Belial f hear 
 
 The thunders of the Lord ; 
 Unfold their long rebellious ear, 
 And tremble at bis word. 
 
 2 Now let the iron sinew bow, 
 
 And take his easy yoke ; 
 Lest sudden vengeance lay it low 
 By one resistless stroke. 
 
 3 Though yet the great Physician wait, 
 
 And healing balm be found. 
 One hour may seal their endless fate, 
 And fix a deadly wound. 
 
 . ISAIAH. 1001 
 
 4 Swift may thy mercy. Lord, arise, 
 Ere justice stop their breath ; 
 And lighten those deluded eyes. 
 That sleep the sleep of death. 
 
 HYMN LXXXI. 
 
 God's reasonable expectations from his vineyard. 
 Isa. V. 1 — 7. 
 
 1 The vineyard of the Lord, how fair ! 
 Planted by his peculiar care ; 
 Behold its branches spread, and fill 
 The borders of his sacred hill. 
 
 2 His eye hath marked the chosen ground ; 
 His mighty hand hath fenced it round ; 
 His servants by his order wait, 
 
 To watch and aid its tender state. 
 
 3 But when the vintage he demands 
 For all the labour of their hands, 
 What clusters doth his vine produce? 
 The grapes are wild, and sour the juice. 
 
 4 Well might he tear its fence away, 
 And leave it to the beasts of prey, 
 Might give it to the wild again, 
 
 And charge his clouds to cease their rain. 
 
 5 But spare our land, our churches spare, 
 Thy vengeance long-provoked forbear ; 
 Let the true vine its influence give. 
 And bid our withering branches live. 
 
 HYMN LXXXII. 
 
 Isaiah's obedience to the heavenly vision. Isa. vi. 8. 
 
 1 Our God ascends his lofty throne, 
 Arrayed in majesty unknown ; 
 His lustre all the temple fills. 
 
 And spreads o'er all the ethereal f hills. 
 
 2 The holy, holy, holy Lord, 
 By all the seraphim adored. 
 
 And while they stand beneath his seat, 
 They veil their faces and their feet, 
 
 3 And can a sinful worm endure 
 The presence of a God so pure ? 
 Or these polluted lips proclaim 
 The honours of so grand a name ? 
 
 4 O for thine altar's glowing coal 
 To touch my lips, to fire my soul, 
 To purge the sordid dross away. 
 And into crystal turn my clay ? 
 
 .5 Then, if a messenger thou ask, 
 A labourer for the hardest task ; 
 Through ail my weakness and my fear. 
 Love shall reply, " Thy servant 's here." 
 
 The Holy Scriptures. t Disobedient, rebellious persons. 
 
 } Heavenly. 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 1002 
 
 6 Nor slioiild my willing soul complain, 
 Though all its I'll'oits .seemed in vain ; 
 Its ample leeomponce shall be, 
 But to have wrought, my God, lor thee. 
 
 HYMN LXXXni. 
 
 The stupidity of Israel and of Britain lamented. 
 Isa. vi. 9—12. 
 
 For a Fiist.day. 
 
 1 Lord, when thine Israel we survey. 
 We in their crimes discern our own ; 
 And if thou turn our prayer away. 
 
 Our misery must, like theirs, be known. 
 
 2 To us thy prophets have been sent 
 With words of terror and of love ; 
 But not the vengeance nor the grace 
 Ten thousand stubborn hearts will move. 
 
 3 Our eyes are blind, and deaf our ears ; 
 Our hearts are hardened into stone ; 
 As we would bar thy mercy out, 
 
 And leave a way for wrath alone. 
 
 4 Justly our God might give us up 
 
 To plague, and famine, and the sword ; 
 Till towns and cities, rich and fair. 
 Lay desolate without a lord. 
 
 5 O'er bleeding wounds of .slaughtered friends 
 Rivers of helpless grief might flow. 
 
 Till the fierce conqueror's haughty rage 
 Dragged us to chains and slaughter too. 
 
 6 But spare a nation long thy own. 
 And show new miracles of grace ; 
 'Tis thine to heal the deaf and blind. 
 And w ake the dead to life and praise. 
 
 HYMN LXXXIV. 
 
 Confederate nations defied hy those icho sanctify God. 
 Isa. viii. 9 — 14. 
 
 For a Fast -day. 
 
 1 Great God of hosts, attend our prayer, 
 And make the British isles thy care : 
 To thee we raise our suppliant cries, 
 When angry nations round us rise. 
 
 2 Fain would they tread our glory down, 
 And in the dust defile our crown. 
 Deluge our houses with our blood, 
 And burn the temples of our God. 
 
 3 But 'midst the thunder of (heir rage, 
 We thy protection would engage: 
 O raise thy saving arm on high, 
 
 - And bring renewed deliverance nigh. 
 
 4 May Britain, as one man, be led 
 
 To make the Lord her fear and dread ; 
 
 Our souls no other fear shall know. 
 Though earth were leagued w ith hell below. 
 
 5 Give ear, ye countries from afar : 
 Ye proud associate nations hear; 
 While fixed on bin), who rules the sky, 
 Our hearts your threatened war defy. 
 
 6 Ye people, gird yourselves in vain. 
 Your scattered force unite again ; 
 Again shall all that force be broke. 
 When God with us shall deal the stroke. 
 
 7 Now he records our humble tears, 
 With ardent vows for future years, 
 And destines for approaching <lays 
 Victorious shouts, and songs of praise. 
 
 8 Emanuel's land shall safe remain. 
 Blest with its Saviour's gentle reign ; 
 Till every hostile rumour cease 
 In the fair realms of perfect peace. 
 
 HYMN LXXXV. 
 
 Christ the steward of God's family. Isa. xxii. 
 22 — 24. compared with Rev. iii. 7. 
 
 1 With what delight I raise my eyes. 
 And view the courts where Jesus dwells I 
 Jesus, who reigns beyond the skies, 
 And here below his grace reveals. 
 
 2 Of David's royal house the key 
 Is borne by that majestic hand ; 
 Mansions and treasures there I see, 
 Subjected all to his command. 
 
 3 He shuts, and worlds might strive in vain 
 Tiie mighty obstacle to move ; 
 He looses all their bars again. 
 And who shall shut the gates of love ? 
 
 4 Fixed in omnipotence he bears 
 The glories of his Father's name. 
 Sustains his people's weighty cares. 
 Through every changing age the same. 
 
 5 My little all I there suspend. 
 Where the whole weight of heaven is hung : 
 Secure I rest on such a Friend, 
 And into rapture wake my tongue. 
 
 HYMN LXXXVI. 
 
 The rich provision and happy effects of the Gospel. 
 Isa. XXV. G — 9. 
 
 I Behold our God, he owns his name ; 
 Jehovah all our songs proclaim 
 
 With shouts of wonder and of joy : 
 Long have we waited for his grace. 
 No longer now his love delays 
 
 For Zion his own arm to employ. 
 
ISAIAH. 
 
 1003 
 
 2 We charge our souls the joy to feel ; 
 We charge our tongues his praise to tell : 
 
 The Almighty Saviour ! This is he ! 
 He pours his streams of grace abroad, 
 Till all the earth confess the God, 
 
 And lands remote his glory see. 
 
 3 Dainties how rich his stores afford! 
 
 How pure the wine that crowns liis board ! 
 
 While welcome nations flock around ; 
 He takes the veil of grief away ; 
 Through thickest shades he darts the day. 
 
 And not one weeping eye is found. 
 
 4 All-conquering death, no longer boast 
 O'er millions humbled in the dust ; 
 
 Our God with scorn thy triumph sees : 
 Soon as he aims one shaft* at thee. 
 Swallowed and lost in victory, 
 
 Thine empire and thy name shall cease. 
 
 HYMN LXXXVII. 
 
 The peaceful state of the soul that trusteth in God. 
 Isa. xxvi. 3. 
 
 1 Weary, and weak, and faint, 
 I cast mine eyes around ; 
 
 My joints all tremble, and my feet 
 Sink deep in miry ground. 
 
 2 Despairing help below, 
 
 To heaven I raise my cries ; 
 God hears, and his almighty arm 
 Out-stretclies from the skies. 
 
 > 3 I on that arm repose, 
 
 And all my fears are o'er ; 
 New strength diffused through all my soul 
 Attests its vital power. 
 
 4 My mind in perfect peace 
 Thy guardian care shall keep : 
 
 I '11 yield to gentle slumbers now. 
 For thou canst never sleep. 
 
 5 Happy the souls alone 
 On thee securely stayed ! 
 
 Nor shall they be in life alarmed. 
 Nor be in death dismayed. 
 
 HYMN LXXXVIII. 
 
 Israel's obstinacy undei- God's lifted hand. Isa. 
 xxvi. 11. 
 
 1 Lord, when thy hand is lifted up, 
 
 The wicked will not sec : 
 But they sliall sec with glowing shame. 
 Though they obdurate be. 
 
 2 How few the weighty stroke regard. 
 
 And seek tlicir Maker's face ! 
 
 * Arrow. 
 
 In vain may providence correct. 
 If not enforced by grace. 
 
 3 Exert thy mighty influence, Lord, 
 
 And melt the stony breast ; 
 Then shall thy justice be adored. 
 Thy mercy stand confessed. 
 
 4 The scorner then shall mourn in dust. 
 
 And put his sins away. 
 No more resist his Maker's hands. 
 But lift his own to pray. 
 
 HYMN LXXXIX. 
 God quickeniny the dead. Isa. xxvi. 19. 
 
 1 The ever-living God 
 
 The expiring church shall raise ; 
 Our hearts his promises receive, 
 And wake a shout of praise. 
 
 2 Death shall not always reign, 
 Where grace hath fixed his throne ; 
 
 His soft compassion views the dust 
 He once hath called his own. 
 
 3 " Yes," saith the God of truth, 
 " My dead shall live again ; 
 
 The foe shall see their Leader's breath 
 Reanimate the slain. 
 
 4 " The dew of heaven shall fall 
 In rich abundance round. 
 
 And a redundant harvest rise 
 To clothe the teeming ground. 
 
 5 " Now from your dust awake. 
 And burst into a song ; 
 
 Then spurn the earth, and mount the skies 
 In a triumphant throng." 
 
 6 Thy Zion, Lord, believes 
 A promise so divine. 
 
 And looks through all her flowing tears 
 To see the glory shine. 
 
 HYMN XC. 
 The godly man's ark. Isa. xxvi. 20. 
 
 1 It is my Father's voice ; 
 And O how sweet the sound ! 
 
 It makes my inmost powers rejoice. 
 My trcmblitig heart rebound. 
 
 2 " Mark, the black tempest lowers, 
 And gathers round the sky ; 
 
 Retire, and shun the sweeping showers 
 Of indignation nigh. 
 
 3 " Come, my dear children, come. 
 And seek your Father's arms ; 
 
 There is your shelter, there your home, 
 'Midst all these dire alarms. 
 
 4 " Enter at his command ; 
 Close in your ark remain ; 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 1004 
 
 And wait the s\'j;nn\ of liis hand 
 To call you forth again. 
 
 6 " Tlie moments to beguile, 
 A ohceiful song: begin ; 
 Nor let the roaring thunders spoil 
 The harmony within. 
 
 6 " Ere long the sky shall clear, 
 The clouds be chased away. 
 And grace sliall shine in radiance fair 
 Through an eternal day." 
 
 HYMN XCI. 
 
 Laying hold on God's streugth, that we may he at 
 ■peace with him. Isa. xxvii. 5. 
 
 1 Thi s saith Jeliovah, from his .seat, 
 
 " Who shall presume my wrath to meet? 
 What rebel men or angels dare 
 To wage with me unequal war ? 
 
 2 " Close let the thorns and briers stand, 
 In thick array on either hand ; 
 
 Forth shall my flaming terrors tly ; 
 At once they kindle, blaze, and die.. 
 
 3 " Presumptuous .sinners, yet be wise 
 Ere this o'erwhelming ruin rise ; 
 Your vain tumultuous efforts cease. 
 And seek in suppliant crowds foi peace." 
 
 4 Great God, we bless the gentle sound 
 And bow submissive to the ground ; 
 Thy prostrate foes let pity raise, 
 And form a people to thy praise. 
 
 5 His thundering storms are silent now ; 
 Calm are the terrors of his brow. 
 Since Jesus makes the Father known, 
 Our guardian shield, our cheering sun. 
 
 HYMN XCn. 
 
 The divine goodness in moderating afflictions. Isa. 
 xxvii. 8. 
 
 1 Great Ruler of all nature's frame. 
 
 We own thy power divine : 
 We hear thy breath in every storm, 
 For all the winds are thine. 
 
 2 Wide as they sweep their sounding way, 
 
 They work thy sovereign will ; 
 And awed by thy majestic voice, 
 Confusion shall be still. 
 
 3 Thy mercy tempers * every blast 
 
 To them that seek thy face ; 
 And mingles witli the tempest's roar 
 The whispers of thy grace. 
 
 * Moderates. 
 
 4 Those gentle whispers let me bear. 
 Till all the tumult cease ; 
 And gales of paradise shall lull 
 My weary soul to peace. 
 
 HYMN XCIII. 
 God waiting to be gracious. Isa. xxx, 18. 
 
 1 Wait on the Lord, ye heirs of hope. 
 And let his word support your soul : 
 Well can he bear your courage up. 
 And all your foes and fears control. 
 
 2 Ke waits his own well-chosen hour 
 The intended mercy to display ; 
 And his paternal bowels move. 
 While wisdom dictates the delay. 
 
 3 With mingled majesty and love 
 At length he rises from his throne ; 
 And while salvation he commands, 
 He makes his people's joy his own. 
 
 4 Blest are the humble souls that wait. 
 With sweet submission to his will ; 
 Harmonious all their passions move. 
 And in the midst of storms are still. 
 
 5 Still, till their Father's well-known voice 
 Wakens their silence into songs ; 
 
 Then earth grows vocal with his praise, 
 And heaven the grateful shout prolongs. 
 
 HYMN XCIV. 
 
 Tlie different views of good and had men, in times 
 of public danger. Isa. xxxiii. 14 — 17. 
 
 1 See, the destruction is begun, 
 
 And heaps of ruin spread the ground ; 
 With hasty strides it marches on, 
 And scatters consternation round. 
 
 2 Sinners in Zion take the alarm, 
 The hypocrites astonished cry. 
 
 Who with devouring flames can dwell ? 
 Who in eternal burnings lie ? 
 
 3 God's gracious voice the saints revives ; 
 How sweet the heavenly accents sound ! 
 
 " Dwell thou on high, my child, (he says,) 
 Where rocks shall guard thee all around. 
 
 4 " There shall my hand thy wants supply. 
 Thy water and thy bread are sure ; 
 There shall my visits make thee glad, 
 
 W hile these alarming scenes endure. 
 
 5 " Then, led in joyous triumph forth. 
 Thine eyes the distant laud shall view, 
 Shall see thy King in beauty drest, 
 And share his royal honours too." 
 
 6 My soul the oracle receives, 
 And feels its energy to cheer ; 
 
ISAIAH. 
 
 1005 
 
 A promised heaven, a present God, 
 Forbids my grief, forbids my fear. 
 
 HYMN XCV. 
 
 God the defence of his people from invadintj enemies. 
 Isa. xxxiii. 21 — 23. 
 
 1 The glorious Lord! his Israel's hope! 
 How well he bears their courage up ! 
 
 How wide his saving power extends! 
 His princely titles will we sing, 
 Our Judge, our Lawgiver, our King, 
 
 He guards his subjects as his friends. 
 
 2 Around the mountain where they dwell, 
 Lo, at his word new waters swell 
 
 To deluge the invading foe ! 
 Opened by him that rules the skies, 
 Mark the broad rivers how they rise, 
 
 And with what rapid strength they flow ! 
 
 3 To gain the well-defended shores 
 In vain the galley spreads its oars. 
 
 And the proud ship her sails displays : 
 The sails are rent, the masts are broke. 
 The shattered oars all drop their stroke. 
 
 And lightnings through the tacklings blaze. 
 
 4 Shout your Hosannahs to the Lord : 
 Thus shall he still his Zion guard. 
 
 Till the last foe be trampled down : 
 High as the heavens exalt his praise ; 
 High as the heavens his hand shall raise 
 
 The soul that here his grace hath known. 
 
 HYMN XCVI. 
 Tlie high way lo Zion. Isa. xxxv. 8 — 10. 
 
 1 Sing, ye redeemed of the Lord, 
 
 Your great Deliverer sing : 
 Pilgrims for Zion's city bound, 
 Be joyful in your King. 
 
 2 See the fair way his hand hath raised ; 
 
 How holy, and how plain ! 
 Nor shall the simplest travellers err. 
 Nor ask the track in vain. 
 
 3 No ravening lion shall destroy. 
 
 Nor lurking serpent wound ; 
 Pleasure and safety, peace and praise, 
 Through all the path are found. 
 
 4 A hand divine shall lead you on 
 
 Through all the blissful road: 
 Till to the sacred mount you rise. 
 And see your smiling God. 
 
 5 There garlands of immortal joy 
 
 Shall bloom on every head ; 
 While sorrow, sighing, and distress, 
 Like shadows all are fled. 
 
 6 March on in your Redeemer's strength ; 
 Pursue his footsteps still ; 
 And let the prospect cheer your eye, 
 While labouring up the hill. 
 
 HYMN XCVII. 
 
 The greatness and majesty of God, and the meanness 
 of the creatures. Isa. xl. 15 — 17. 
 
 1 Ye weak inhabitants of clay. 
 Ye trifling insects of a day, 
 
 Low in your native dust bow down 
 Before the Eternal's awful throne. 
 
 2 With trembling heart, with solemn eye. 
 Behold Jehovah seated high ; 
 
 And search, what worthy sacriiice 
 
 Your hands can give, your thoughts devise. 
 
 3 Let Lebanon her cedars bring. 
 
 To blaze before the sovereign King ; 
 And all the beasts that on it feed, 
 As victims at his altar bleed. 
 
 4 Loud let ten thousand trumpets sound. 
 And call remotest nations round. 
 Assembled on the crowded plains, 
 Princes and people, kings and swains. 
 
 5 Joined with the living, let the dead 
 Rising the face of earth o'erspread ; 
 
 And while his praise unites their tongues, 
 Let angels echo back the songs. 
 
 6 The drop that from the bucket falls. 
 The dust that hangs upon the scales. 
 Is more to sky, and earth, and sea. 
 Than all this pomp, O God, to thee. 
 
 HYMN XCVIII. 
 
 The timorous saint encouraged by the assurance of 
 the divine presence and help. Isa. xli. 10. 
 
 1 And art thou with us, gracious Lord, 
 
 To dissipate our fear ? 
 Dost thou proclaim thyself our God, 
 Our God for ever near ? 
 
 2 Doth thy right hand, which formed the earth, 
 
 And bears up all the skies. 
 Stretch from on high its friendly aid, 
 When dangers round us rise ? 
 
 3 Dost thou a father's bowels feel 
 
 For all thy humble saints ; 
 And in such tender accents speak 
 To soothe their sad complaints ? 
 
 4 On this support my soul shall lean. 
 
 And banish every care ; 
 The gloomy vale of death must smile, 
 If God be with me there. 
 
HMt6 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 6 While I his gracious succour prove 
 "Midst all my various ways, 
 The darkest .sliades through which I pass 
 Shall echo with his praise. 
 
 HYMN XCIX. 
 
 The humiliation and exaltation of God's Israel. 
 Isa. xli. 14, 15. 
 
 1 Amazing grace of (iod on liigli ! 
 
 And will the Lord look down 
 On sinners, while in dust they lie, 
 And dread his awful frown ? 
 
 2 Weaker than worms, O Lord, are we. 
 
 And viler far than they ; 
 Yet in these reptiles, * weak and vile, 
 Dost thou thy power display. 
 
 3 Jehovah's sovereign voice is heard, 
 
 The worm lifts up its head, 
 And mountains, that would crush it down, 
 Before the worm are fled. 
 
 4 Thou Holy One, thine Israel's King, 
 
 Thou our Redeemer art ; 
 Nor shall the blessings of thy hand 
 
 From thy redeemed depart. 
 6 Thy love shall its own work fulfil, 
 
 And grace shall rise on grace. 
 Till w'orms of earth around thy throne 
 
 With angels firvd a place. 
 
 HYMN C. 
 
 The wilderness transformed, or the effects of the 
 rjospel. Isa. xli. 18, 19. compared with xxxv. 
 1, 2; ix. 6—9; Iv. 13, &e. 
 
 1 Amazing, beauteous change ! 
 A world created new ! 
 
 My thoughts with transport range 
 The lovely scene to view ; 
 
 In all I trace, 
 
 Saviour divine. 
 
 The work is thine, 
 
 Be thine the praise. 
 
 2 See crystal fountains play 
 Amidst the burning sands ; 
 The river's winding way 
 Shines through the thirsty lands ; 
 
 New grass is seen, 
 And o'er the meads 
 Its carpet spreads 
 Of living green. 
 
 3 Where pointed brambles grew. 
 Entwined with horrid thorn, 
 Gay flowers for ever new 
 
 The painted fields adorn ; 
 
 * Creeping things. 
 
 The blushing rose. 
 And lily there. 
 In union fair 
 Their sweets disclose. 
 
 4 Where the bleak mountain stood, 
 All bare and disarrayed. 
 
 See the wide-branching wood 
 Dilluse its grateful shade ; 
 
 Tall cedars nod. 
 
 And oaks and pines, 
 
 A!id elms and vines, 
 
 Confess the God. 
 
 5 The tyrants of tlic plain 
 Their savage chase give o'er : 
 No more they rend the slain. 
 And thirst for blood no more : 
 
 But infant hands 
 Fierce tigers stroke, 
 And lions yoke 
 In flowery bands. 
 
 G O when. Almighty Lord, 
 Shall these glad scenes arise ; 
 To verify thy word. 
 And bless our wondering eyes ! 
 
 That earth may raise. 
 
 With all its tongues. 
 
 United songs 
 
 Of ardent praise. 
 
 HYMN CI. 
 
 The blind and weak led and supported in God's way, 
 Isa. xlii. 16. 
 
 1 Praise to the radiant source of bliss. 
 
 Who gives the blind their sight. 
 And scatters round their wondering eyes 
 A flood of sacred light. 
 
 2 In paths unknown he leads them on 
 
 To his divine abode. 
 And shows new miracles of grace 
 Through all the heavenly road. 
 
 3 The ways all rugged and perplexed 
 
 He renders smooth and straight. 
 And strengthens every feeble knee 
 To inarch to Zion's gate. 
 
 4 Through all the path I '11 sing his name^ 
 
 Till I the mount ascend. 
 Where toils and storms are known no more. 
 And anthems never end. 
 
 HYMN CII. 
 
 God calling his Israel hij name, and leading them 
 through water and fire. Isa. xliii. 1, 2. 
 
 I Let Jacob to his Maker sing. 
 And praise his great redeeming King ; 
 
ISAIAH. 
 
 1007 
 
 Called by a new, a gracious name, 
 Let Israel loud liis God proclaim. 
 
 2 He knows our souls in all their fears, 
 And gently wipes our falling tears. 
 Forms trembling voices to a song. 
 And bids the feeble heart be strong. 
 
 3 Then let the rivers swell around, 
 
 And rising floods o'erflow the ground; 
 Kivers and floods and seas divide. 
 And homage pay to Israel's guide. 
 
 4 Then let the fires their rage display. 
 And flaming terrors bar the way ; 
 Unburnt, unsinged, he leads them through. 
 And makes the flames refreshing too. 
 
 6 The fires but on their bonds shall prey,* 
 The floods but wash their stains away, 
 And grace divine new trophies f raise 
 Amidst the deluge and the blaze. 
 
 HYMN CHI. 
 
 The riches of pardoniny grace celebrated. Isa. xliv. 
 22, 32. 
 
 1 Let heaven burst forth into a song ; 
 Let earth reflect the joyful sound ; 
 Ye mountains, with the echo ring, 
 And shout, ye forests, all around. 
 
 2 The Lord his Israel hath redeemed. 
 Hath made his mourning people glad, 
 And the rich glories of his name 
 
 In their salvation hath displayed. 
 
 3 Unnumbered sins like sable clouds. 
 Veiled every cheerful ray of joy, 
 
 And thunders murmured through the gloom, 
 While lightnings pointed to destroy. 
 
 4 He spoke, and all the clouds dispersed. 
 And heaven unveiled its shining face ; 
 The whole creation smiled anew. 
 Decked in the golden beams of grace. 
 
 6 Israel, return witli humble love. 
 Return to thy Redeemer's breast, 
 And charmed by his melodious voice, 
 Compose thy weary powers to r«st. 
 
 HYMN CIV. 
 
 The little success which attended the personal minis- 
 try of Christ. Isa. xlix. 4. 
 
 1 And doth the Son of God complain, 
 " Lo, I have spent my strength in vain, 
 And stretched my hands wliolc days and years 
 To those who slight my words and tears V 
 
 2 O stubborn hearts, that could withstand 
 Such efl'orts from a Saviour's hand ! 
 
 O gracious Saviour, who wouldst bleed. 
 When words and tears could not succeed ! 
 
 3 Fall down, my soul, in humble woe, 
 That thou hast wronged his goodness so : 
 Now let his grace resistless move 
 
 To melt the stubborn flint to love. 
 
 4 All-glorious Lord, march forth and reign, 
 And reap the fruit of all thy pain ; 
 And, till a nobler scene appear, 
 
 Begin the happy conquest here. 
 
 HYMN CV. 
 
 God's captives released ; applied to spiritual deliver- 
 ances. Isa. li. 14, 15. 
 
 1 Captives of Israel, hear. 
 Who now as exiles J mourn; 
 
 See your Almighty God appear 
 To hasten your return. 
 
 2 Jehovah is his name, 
 Lord of celestial hosts : 
 
 Let heaven that saving power proclaim 
 In which his Israel trusts. 
 
 3 Though helpless now ye lie. 
 As in a dungeon tlirown, 
 
 When parched with painful thirst ye cry, 
 And when your bread is gone. 
 
 4 Deliverance comes apace ; 
 Ye shall not there expire ; 
 
 Prepare to sing redeeming grace 
 With his triumphant choir. 
 
 5 He smote the raging sea, 
 Midst its tumultuous roar. 
 
 And paved his chosen troops a way 
 Safe to its distant shore. 
 
 6 In him let Israel hope. 
 
 At whose supreme command 
 Graves yield their breathless captives up, 
 And seas become dry land. 
 
 HYMN CVI. 
 
 The cttp of fur 7/ exchanged for the cup of blessings. 
 Isa. li. 22. 
 
 1 The Lord, our Lord, how rich his grace! 
 
 What stores of sovereign love 
 For humble souls, that seek his face. 
 And to his footstool move ! 
 
 2 He pleads the cause of all his saints, 
 
 Wiicn foes against them rise ; 
 He listens to their sad complaints. 
 And wipes their streaming eyes. 
 
 * Allosion to the story in Dan. iii. 19, &c. f Monuments of victory. 
 
 } Banished persons. 
 
1008 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 .J IIo takes away lliat dieadfiil cup 
 1)1" lui J and of plagues, 
 Wliieli justice sentenced them to drink, 
 And wrin^ the bitter dregs. 
 
 4 He gave it to their Saviour's hand, 
 
 Antl filled it to the brim ; 
 Their Saviour drank the liquid death, 
 That they might live by him. 
 
 5 " Now take the cup of life, (he cries,) 
 
 Where heavenly blessings flow : 
 Drink deep, nor fear to drain the spring. 
 To which the draught ye owe." 
 
 6 We drink, and feel our life renewed. 
 
 And all our woes forget : 
 We drink, till that transporting hour. 
 When we our Lord shall meet. 
 
 HYMN CVII. 
 The hehj city purified and guarded. Isa. liii. 1, 2. 
 
 1 Triumphant Zion, lift thy head 
 
 From dust, and darkness, and the dead : 
 Though humbled long, awake at length. 
 And gird thee with thy Saviour's strength. 
 
 2 Put all thy beauteous garments on, 
 And let thy various charms be known ; 
 The world thy glories shall confess, 
 Decked in the robes of righteousness. 
 
 3 No more shall foes unclean invade. 
 And fill thy hallowed walls with dread ; 
 No more shall hell's insulting host 
 Their victory and thy sorrows boast. 
 
 4 God from on high thy groans will hear ; 
 His hand thy ruins shall repair ; 
 Reared and adorned by love divine. 
 Thy towers and battlements shall shine. 
 
 5 Grace shall dispose my heart and voice 
 To share, and echo back her joys ; 
 Nor will her watchful Monarch cease 
 To guard her in eternal peace. 
 
 HYMN CVin. 
 
 GocFs government, Zion' s joy. Isa. lii. 7. 
 
 1 Ye subjects of the Lord, proclaim 
 The royal honours of his name : 
 
 Jehovah reigns, be all our song. 
 'Tis he, thy God, O Zion reigns, 
 Prepare thy most harmonious strains 
 
 Glad hallelujahs to prolong. 
 
 2 Ye princes, boast no more your crowns, 
 But lay the glittering trifles down 
 
 In lowly honour at his feet ; 
 
 A span your narrow empire bounds, 
 lie reigns beyond created rounds, 
 In self-suflicient glory great. 
 
 3 Tremble, ye pageants of a day. 
 Formed like your slaves of brittle clay, 
 
 Down to tlic tlust your sceptres bend : 
 To everlasting years he reigns. 
 And undiminislied pomp maintains, 
 
 When kings, and suns, and time shall end. 
 
 4 So shall his favoured Zion live : 
 In vain confederate nations strive 
 
 Her sacred turrets to destroy ; 
 Her Sovereign sits enthroned above. 
 And endless power, and endless love. 
 
 Ensure her safety, and her joy. 
 
 HYMN CIX. 
 Divine mercies and judgment compared. Is. liv. 7, 8. 
 
 1 In thy rebukes, all-gracious God, 
 
 What soft compassion reigns ! 
 What gentle accents of thy voice 
 Assuage thy children's pains ! 
 
 2 " When I correct my chosen sons, 
 
 A fatl)er's bowels move : 
 One transient moment bounds my wrath, 
 But endless is my love." 
 
 3 Our faith shall look through every tear, 
 
 And view thy smiling face, 
 And hope amidst our sighs shall tune 
 An anthem to thy grace. 
 
 4 Gather at length my weary soul 
 
 To join thy saints above ; 
 For I would learn a song of praise 
 Eternal as thy love. 
 
 HYMN ex. 
 
 Divine teachings, and their happy consequences. 
 Isa. liv. 13. 
 
 1 Bright source of intellectual rays. 
 Father of spirits, and of grace, 
 
 O dart with energy unknown 
 Celestial beamings from thy throne. 
 
 2 Thy sacred book we would survey. 
 Enlightened with that heavenly day, 
 And ask thy Spirit, with the word, 
 To teach our souls to know the Lord. 
 
 3 So shall our children learn the road. 
 That leads them to their fathers' God ; 
 And, formed by lessons so divine, 
 
 Shall infant minds with knowledge shine. 
 
 4 So shall the haughtiest soul submit. 
 With children placed at Jesus' feet : 
 The noisy swell of pride shall cease. 
 And thy sweet voice be heard in peace. 
 
ISAIAH. 
 
 HYMN CXI. 
 
 Fruitful showers, emblems of the salutary effects of 
 the gospel. Isa. Iv. 10 — 12. 
 
 1 Mark the soft-falling snow, 
 And the diffusive rain : 
 
 To heaven from whence it fell, 
 It turns not back again ; 
 
 But waters earth 
 
 Through every pore. 
 
 And calls forth all 
 
 Its secret store. 
 
 2 Arrayed in beauteous green 
 The hills and valleys shine, 
 And man and beast is fed 
 By Providence divine ; 
 
 The harvest bows 
 Its golden ears, 
 The copious seed 
 Of future years. 
 
 3 " So," saith the God of grace, 
 " My gospel shall descend, 
 Almighty to effect 
 
 The purpose I intend ; 
 Millions of souls 
 Shall feel its power, 
 And bear it down 
 To millions more. 
 
 4 " Joy shall begin your march, 
 And peace protect your ways, 
 While all the mountains round 
 Echo melodious praise ; 
 
 The vocal groves 
 Shall sing the God, 
 And every tree 
 Consenting nod." 
 
 HYMN CXII. 
 
 Comfort for pious parents, who have been bereaved of 
 their children. Isa. Ivi. 4, 5. 
 
 1 Ye mourning saints, whose streaming tears 
 
 Flow o'er your children dead. 
 Say not, in transports of despair. 
 That all your hopes are fled. 
 
 2 While cleaving to that darling dust, 
 In fond distress ye lie, 
 
 Rise, and with joy and reverence view 
 A heavenly Parent nigh. 
 
 3 Though, your young branches torn away. 
 Like withered trunks ye stand, 
 
 With fairer verdure shall ye bloom. 
 Touched by the Almighty's band. 
 
 4 " I '11 give the mourner," saith the Lord, 
 In my own house a place : 
 
 3 T 
 
 No names of daughters and of sons 
 Could yield so high a grace. 
 
 5 " Transient and vain is every hope 
 
 A rising race can give ; 
 In endless honour and delight 
 My children all shall live." 
 
 6 We welcome. Lord, those rising tears. 
 
 Through which thy face we see, [hearts 
 And bless those wounds, which through our 
 Prepare a way for thee. 
 
 HYMN CXIII. 
 
 The stranger entertained in God's house of prayer. 
 Isa. hi. 6. 7. compared with Matt. xxi. 13. and 
 Eph. ii. 19. 
 
 1 Great Father of mankind. 
 We bless that wondrous grace, 
 Which could for Gentiles find 
 Within thy courts a place. 
 
 How kind the care 
 Our God displays. 
 For us to raise 
 A house of prayer ! 
 
 2 Though once estranged far. 
 We now approach the throne ; 
 For Jesus brings us near, 
 And makes our cause his own : 
 
 Strangers no more. 
 To thee we come. 
 And find our home, 
 And rest secure. 
 
 3 To thee our souls we join. 
 And love thy sacred name ; 
 No more our own, but thine, 
 We triumph in thy claim ; 
 
 Our Father-king, 
 Thy covenant grace 
 Our souls embrace. 
 Thy titles sing. 
 
 4 Here in thy house we feast 
 On dainties all divine : 
 
 And, while such sweets we taste. 
 With joy our faces shine. 
 
 Incense shall rise 
 
 From flames of love. 
 
 And God approve 
 
 The sacrifice. 
 
 5 May all the nations throng 
 To worship in thy house ; 
 And thou attend the song. 
 And smile upon their vows ; 
 
 Indulgent still, 
 Till earth conspire 
 To join the choir 
 On Zions hill. 
 
1010 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN CXIV. 
 
 Peace proclaimed, and the fruit' of the lips created, 
 by a f/racious God. Isa. Ivii. 19. 
 
 1 Hark! for tlic great Creator speaks ; 
 111 silence let the earth attend ; 
 
 And, when his word.s of grace are heard, 
 lu grateful adoration bend. 
 
 2 " 'Tis I create the fruit of praise, 
 And give the broken heart to sing ; 
 Peace, Iieavcnly peace, my lips proclaim, 
 Pleased with the happy news they bring." 
 
 3 Receive the tidings with delight. 
 Ye Gentile nations from afar; 
 And you, the children of his love, 
 Whom grace hath brought already near. 
 
 4 To these, to those, his sovereign hand 
 Its healing energy imparts : 
 
 Peace, peace, be echoed from your tongues, 
 And echoed from conseutiag hearts. 
 
 5 Enjoy the health which God hath wrought: 
 Nor let the daily tribute cease. 
 
 Till changed for more exalted songs 
 In regions of eternal peace. 
 
 HYMN CXV. 
 
 The duty of remonstrating ayainst sin, when judy- 
 ments are threatened. Isa. Iviii. 1. 
 
 1 Thy judgments cry aloud, 
 O ever-righteous God, 
 
 And in the sight of all our land 
 Thou liftest up tliy rod. 
 
 2 Aloud thy servants cry, 
 Commissioned from thy throne. 
 
 And like a trumpet raise their voice 
 To make thy judgments known. 
 
 3 But who that cry attends. 
 And makes his safety sure ? 
 
 Rocked by the tempest they should flee. 
 They sleep the more secure. 
 
 4 Another trumpet. Lord, 
 The stupid slumbcrers need ; 
 
 Nor will they hear a feebler voice 
 Than that which wakes the dead. 
 
 HYMN CXVI. 
 
 T'nsurcessful fasts accounted for. Isa. Iviii. 3. 
 compared with 4 — 8. 
 For a Fast-day. 
 
 1 Oh ! where is sovereign mercy gone? 
 Whither is Britain's God withdrawn ? 
 That through long years she should complain, 
 She fasts, and mourns, and cries in vain ? 
 
 2 Hast thou not seen her suppliant bands 
 Through all her coasts extend their hands I 
 Or has their oft-repeated prayer 
 Escaped thine ever-listening ear? 
 
 3 Thine car hath heard, thine eye hath seen ; 
 But guilt hath spread a cloud between; 
 And rising still before thy face. 
 
 Averts thy long-entreated grace. 
 
 4 Dispel that cloud by rays divine. 
 And cause thy cheering face to shine ; 
 Our isle shall shout from shore to shore. 
 And dread encroaching foes no more. 
 
 5 Our light shall like the morning spring; 
 Healing and joy our God shall bring ; 
 .Iiisliee shall in our front appear. 
 
 And glory gather up our rear. 
 
 HYMN CXVII. 
 The standard of the Spirit lifted up. Isa. lix. 19. 
 
 1 God of the ocean, at whose voice 
 
 The threatening floods are heard no more. 
 Behold their madness and their noise, 
 And silence the tumultuous roar. 
 
 2 Her streams of poisonous error swelf ; 
 There rages vice in every form ; 
 Tliey join their tide, led on by hell. 
 And Zion trembles at the storm. 
 
 3 Almighty Spirit, raise thine arm, 
 And lift the Saviour's .standard high ; 
 Thy people's hearts with vigour warm. 
 And call thy chosen legions nigh. 
 
 4 Waked by thy well-known voice they come. 
 And round the sacred banner throng ; 
 
 Zion prepare the Conqueror room, 
 While triumph bursts into a song. 
 
 5 •' The Lord on high, when billows roar, 
 Superior majesty displays. 
 
 And, by one breath of sovereign power, 
 Hushes the noise of foaming seas." 
 
 HYMN CXVIII. 
 TTie ylory of the church in the latter day. Isa. Ix. 1 
 
 1 O Zion, tune thy voice, 
 And raise thy hands on high ; 
 Tell all the earth thy joys, 
 And lioast salvation nigh. 
 
 Cheerful in God, 
 Arise and shine. 
 While rays divine 
 Stream all abroad. 
 
 2 He gilds thy mourning face 
 With beams that cannot fade ; 
 His all-resplendent grace 
 
 He pours around thy head ; 
 
ISAIAH. 
 
 1011 
 
 The nations round 
 Thy form shall view, 
 With lustre new 
 Divinely crowned. 
 
 3 In honour to his name 
 Reflect that sacred light ; 
 And loud that grace proclaim, 
 Which makes thy darkness bright: 
 
 Pursue his praise, 
 Till sovereign love 
 In worlds above 
 The glory raise. 
 
 4 There on his holy hill 
 
 A brighter sun shall rise. 
 And with his radiance fill 
 Those fairer, purer skies ; 
 
 While round his throne 
 
 Ten thousand stars 
 
 In nobler spheres* 
 
 His influence own. 
 
 HYMN CXIX. 
 
 God the everlasting light of the saints above. 
 Isa. Ix. 20. 
 
 1 Ye golden lamps of heaven,f farewell. 
 
 With all your feeble light: 
 Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, 
 Pale empress of the night. 
 
 2 And thou, refulgent orb of day, J 
 
 In brighter flames arrayed. 
 My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere. 
 No more demands thine aid. 
 
 3 Ye stars are but the shining dust 
 
 Of my divine abode, 
 The pavement of those heavenly courts. 
 Where I shall reign with God. 
 
 4 The Father of eternal light 
 
 Shall there his beams display ; 
 Nor shall one moment's darkness mix 
 With that unvaried day. 
 
 5 No more the drops of piercing grief 
 
 Shall swell into mine eyes ; 
 Nor the meridian § sun decline 
 Amidst those brighter skies. 
 
 6 There all the millions of his saints 
 
 Shall in one song unite, 
 And each the bliss of all jshall view 
 With infinite delight. 
 
 HYMN CXX. 
 God entreated for Zion. Isa. Ixii. 6, 7. 
 
 For a Fast-day; or a day of prayer for the revival of religioo. 
 
 1 Indulgent Sovereign of the skies, 
 And wilt thou bow thy gracious ear? 
 
 * Orbs, or patlis in which the stars move. 
 + The stars. } The sun. } Noon.day. 
 
 3 T 2 
 
 While feeble mortals raise their cries. 
 Wilt thou, the great Jehovah, hear ? 
 
 2 How shall thy servants give thee rest, 
 Till Zion's mouldering walls thou raise ? 
 Till thy own power shall stand confessed, 
 And make Jerusalem a praise ? 
 
 3 For this, a lowly suppliant crowd 
 Here in thy sacred temple wait : 
 For this, we lift our voices loud, 
 And call, and knock, at mercy's gate. 
 
 4 Look down, O God, with pitying eye, 
 And view the desolation round ; 
 
 See what wide realms in darkness lie. 
 And hurl their idols to the ground. 
 
 5 Loud let the gospel trumpet blow. 
 And call the nations from afar ; 
 Let all the isles their Saviour know. 
 And earth's remotest ends draw near. 
 
 6 Let Babylon's proud altars shake. 
 And light invade her darkest gloom ; 
 The yoke of iron bondage break, 
 The yoke of Satan, and of Rome. 
 
 7 With gentle beams on Britain shine. 
 And bless her princes, and her priests ; 
 And, by thine energy divine. 
 
 Let sacred love o'erllow their breasts. 
 
 8 Triumphant here let Jesus reign. 
 And on his vineyard sweetly smile ; 
 While all the virtues of his train 
 Adorn our church, adorn our isle. 
 
 9 Or: all our souls let grace descend. 
 Like heavenly dew, in copious showers, 
 That we may call our God our friend. 
 That we may hail salvation ours. 
 
 10 Then shall each age and rank agree 
 United shouts of joy to raise : 
 And Zion, made a praise by thee, 
 To thee shall render back the praise. 
 
 HYMN CXXI. 
 
 A nation horn in a day ; or the rapid progress of the 
 Gospel desired. Isa. Ixvi. 8. 
 
 1 Behold with pleasing ecstasy 
 The gospel standard lifted high. 
 That all the nations from afar 
 May in the great salvation share. 
 
 2 Why then, Almighty Saviour, why 
 Do wretched souls in millions die ? 
 While wide the infernal tyrant reigns 
 O'er spacious realms in ponderous || chains. 
 
 3 And shall he still go on to boast 
 Thy cross its energy hath lost ? 
 
 II Heavy. 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 1012 
 
 .\iul sliall tliy servants still complain, 
 Tlifir laliouis and their tears are vain? 
 
 4 Awake, all-con<]iicritip; arm, nwake, 
 And iiell's extensive empire shake ; 
 Assert the honours of tiiy tiironc. 
 And call the ruined world thy own. 
 
 5 Thine all-snceessful power display ; 
 Produce a nation in a day ; 
 For at tiiy word this harrcn earth 
 Shall travail with a geneial biith. 
 
 C Swift let thy quickening Spirit breathe 
 On these abodes of sin and death ; 
 That breath shall bow ten thousand minds, 
 Like waving corn before the winds. 
 
 7 Scarce can our glowing hearts endure 
 A world, where thou art known no more; 
 Transform it, Lord, by conquering love ; 
 Or bear us to the realms above. 
 
 HYMN CXXIL 
 
 Baclisliding Israel invited to return to God, 
 Jer. iii. 12, 13. 
 
 1 Backsliding Israel, hear the voice 
 
 Of thy forgiving God, 
 Nor force such goodness to exert 
 The terrors of the rod. 
 
 2 Thus saith the Lord, " My mercy flows 
 
 An unexhausted stream, 
 And, after all its millions saved. 
 Its sway is still supreme. 
 
 3 " One niomcjit's wrath with weighty crush 
 
 Might sink you quick to hell ; 
 Yet mercy points the happy path. 
 Where life and glory dwell. 
 
 4 " Own but the follies thou hast done. 
 
 And mourn thy sins in dust. 
 And soon thy trembling heart shall learn 
 To hope, and love, and trust." 
 
 5 All-gracious God, thy voice we own ; 
 
 And, prostrate at thy feet. 
 Our souls in humble silence wait 
 A pardon there to meet. 
 
 HYMN CXXIII. 
 
 T/ie yoodness of God achnowledyed in giving pastors 
 after his own heart. Jer. iii. 15. 
 At the Settlement of a Minister. 
 
 1 Shepherd of Israel, thou dost keep 
 With constant care thy humble sheep ; 
 By thee inferior pastors rise 
 
 To feed our souls, and bless our eyes. 
 
 2 To all thy churches such impart. 
 Modelled by thy own gracious heart ; 
 
 Whose courage, watchfulness, and love. 
 Men may attest, and God approve. 
 
 3 Fed by their active tender care, 
 Ileallhftil may all thy sheep appear, 
 And, by tiieir fair example led. 
 The way to Zion's pastures tread. 
 
 4 Here hast thou listened to our vows, 
 And scattered blessings on tliy house ; 
 Thy saints are succoured, and no more 
 As sheep without a guide deplore. 
 
 5 Completely heal each former stroke, 
 And bless the shepherd and the flock ; 
 Confirm the hopes thy mercies raise, 
 And own this tribute of our praise. 
 
 HYMN CXXIV. 
 
 God's gracious methods of adopting love. 
 Jer. iii. 19. 
 
 1 Amazing plan of sovereigrj love ! 
 
 And doth our God look down 
 On rebels whom his wrath might doom 
 To perish at his frown ? 
 
 2 Doth he project a wondrous scheme 
 
 In such a way to save. 
 That justice, majesty, and grace, 
 May one joint triumph have ? 
 
 3 One look tlic stubborn heart subdues. 
 
 And at his feet they fall ; 
 They own their Father with delight. 
 And he receives them all. 
 
 4 Numbered amongst his dearest sons, 
 
 The pleasant land they share ; 
 On eartli secured by power divine. 
 Till crowned with glory there. 
 
 6 Father, in thine embraces lodged. 
 
 Our heaven begun we feel. 
 And wait the hour, which thou shalt mark 
 Thy counsels to fulfil. 
 
 HYMN CXXV. 
 
 Creatures vain, and God the salvation of his people, 
 Jer. iii. 23. 
 
 1 How long shall dreams of creature-bliss 
 
 Our flattering hopes employ, 
 And mock our fond deluded eyes 
 With visionary joy ? * 
 
 2 Why from the mountains and the hills 
 
 Is our salvation sought. 
 While our eternal Rock 's forsook. 
 And Israel's God forgot? 
 
 3 The living spring neglected flows 
 
 Full in our daily view, 
 
 * The appearance of j'i)'. 
 
JEREMIAH. 
 
 1013 
 
 Yet we with anxious fruitless toil 
 Our broken cisterns hew. 
 
 4 These fatal errors, gracious God, 
 With gentle pity see : 
 To thee our roving eyes direct, 
 And fix our souls on thee. 
 
 HYMN CXXVI. 
 
 Invitation to return to the Lord, and put away aho- 
 minacions. Jer. iv. 1, 2. 
 
 1 It is the Lord of glory calls ; 
 
 O let his Israel hear : 
 " Stop, ye revolters, in your course, 
 And hearken, and come near. 
 
 2 "What though in sin's delusive paths 
 
 Ye from your youth have strayed ; 
 What though my messages of love 
 Have been with scorn repaid ; 
 
 3 " At last return, and grace divine 
 
 Your wanderings shall forget; 
 If loyal zeal and love dethrone 
 Each idol from its seat. 
 
 4 " Return, and dwell secure on earth, 
 
 As in your Lord's embrace. 
 Till in the land of perfect joy 
 Ye find a nobler place." 
 
 5 Father of mercies, lo, we come, 
 
 Subdued by such a call ; 
 O let the hand of grace divine 
 Reduce and bless us all ! 
 
 6 So will we teach the world that love 
 
 Which we are made to see ; 
 And wanderers shall with us return, 
 And bless themselves in thee. 
 
 HYMN CXXVII. 
 
 Misimproved privileges, and disappointed hopes. 
 Jer. viii. 20. 
 
 1 Alas, how fast our moments fly ! 
 
 How short our months appear! 
 How swift through various seasons hastes 
 The still revolving year. 
 
 2 Seasons of grace, and days of hope. 
 
 While Jesus waiting stands. 
 And spreads the blessings of his love 
 With wide-extended hands. 
 
 3 But O how slow our stupid souls 
 
 These blessings to secure ! 
 Blessings, which through eternal years 
 Unwithering shall endure. 
 
 4 Beneath the word of life we die ; 
 
 We starve amidst our store : 
 And wliat salvation should impart 
 Heightens our ruin more. 
 
 5 Pity this madness, God of love, 
 And make us truly wise : 
 So from the pregnant seeds of grace 
 Shall glorious harvests rise. 
 
 HYMN CXXVIII. 
 Gloryiuf/ in God alone. Jer. ix. 23, 24. 
 
 1 The righteous Lord, supremely great. 
 Maintains liis universal state ; 
 
 O'er all the earth his power extends ; 
 All heaven before his foot-stool bends. 
 
 2 Yet justice still with power presides, 
 And mercy all his empire guides ; 
 Such works are pleasing in his sight, 
 And such the men of his delight. 
 
 3 No more, ye wise, your wisdom boast ; 
 No more, ye strong, your valour trust : 
 Nor let the rich survey his store, 
 Elate* with heaps of shining ore. 
 
 4 Glory, niy soul, in this alone. 
 
 That God, thy God, to, thee is known. 
 That thou hast owned his sovereign sway, 
 That thou hast felt his cbeciiug ray. 
 
 5 My wisdom, wealth, and power I find 
 In one Jehovah all combined ! 
 
 On him I fix my roving eyes. 
 Till all my soul in rapture rise. 
 
 6 All else, which I my treasure call. 
 May in one fatal moment fall ; 
 But what his happiness can move. 
 Whom God the blessed deigns f to love? 
 
 HYMN CXXIX. 
 
 Jeremiah's tears over the captive fioch. Jer. xiii. 
 15—17. 
 
 1 Flow on, my tc-ars, in rising streams. 
 
 Ye briny fountains, flow; 
 While haughty sinners steel their hearts, 
 Nor will Jehovah know. 
 
 2 The (lock of God is captive led 
 
 In Satan's heavy chains ; 
 Led to the borders of the pit. 
 Where endless liorror reigns. 
 
 3 Look back, ye captives, and invoke 
 
 Jehovah's saving aid ; 
 Give him the glory of his name. 
 Whose hand your nature made. 
 
 4 O turn, ere yet your erring feet 
 
 On death's dark mountain fall ; 
 Cry, and your gentle Shepherd's ear 
 Will hearken to your call. 
 
 * Lifted up. 
 
 + Coiidesccnils. 
 
1014 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 5 Then sliall those licails with pleasure spring, 
 
 M'liieli now in sorrow melt; 
 And deep rcpentanec yield a joy 
 Proud guilt hath never felt. 
 
 6 Almighty grace, exert thy power. 
 
 And turn these slaves of sin ; 
 And, when they bring thy tribute due, 
 Shall their own bliss begin. 
 
 HYMN CXXX. 
 
 Givinp glory to God, before darkness comes upon ns. 
 Jcr. xiii. 16. 
 
 1 The swift-declining day, 
 How fast its moments fly ! 
 
 While evening's broad and gloomy shade 
 Gains on the western sky. 
 
 2 Y'e mortals, mark its pace. 
 And use the hours of light ; 
 
 And know, its Maker can command 
 An instantaneous* night. 
 
 3 His word blots out the sun 
 In its meridian blaze ; 
 
 And cuts from smiling vigorous youth 
 The remnant of its days. 
 
 4 On the dark mountain's brow 
 Y^our feet shall quickly slide; 
 
 And from its airy summit dash 
 Your momentary pride. 
 
 5 Give glory to the Lord, 
 
 Who rules the whirling sphere;! 
 Submissive at his footstool bow, 
 And seek salvation there. 
 
 6 Then shall new lustre break 
 Through horror's darkest gloom. 
 
 And lead you to unchanging light 
 In a celestial home. 
 
 HYMN CXXXI. 
 
 The fatal consequences of forsaking the hope of 
 Israel. Jer. xvii. 13, 14. 
 
 1 Great object of thine Israel's hope, 
 
 Its Saviour, and its praise, 
 Attend, while we to thee devote 
 The remnant of our days. 
 
 2 How wretched they that leave the Lord, 
 
 And from his word withdraw. 
 That lose his gospel from their sight, 
 And wander from his law ! 
 
 3 O thou eternal spring of good. 
 
 Whence living waters flow. 
 Let not our thirsty erring souls 
 To broken cisterns go. 
 
 • Sudden. t The revolution of the sun, moon, and stars. 
 
 4 Like characters inscribed in dust 
 
 Arc sinners borne away ; 
 And all the treasures they can boast. 
 The portion of a day. 
 
 5 But, Lord, to thee my heart shall turn 
 
 To heal it, and to save ; 
 The joys, that from thy favour (low. 
 Shall bloom beyond the grave. 
 
 HYMN CXXXIL 
 Cln-ist the Lord our righteousness. Jer. xxiii. 6. 
 
 1 Saviouu divine, we know thy name. 
 
 And in that name we trust; 
 Thou art the Lord our righteousness, 
 Thou art thine Israel's boast. 
 
 2 Guilty we plead before thy liu'one. 
 
 And low in dust we lie. 
 Till Jesus stretch his gracious arm 
 To bring the guilty nigh. 
 
 3 The sins of one most righteous day 
 
 Might plunge us in despair; 
 Y^et all the crimes of numerous years 
 Shall our great Surety clear. 
 
 4 That spotless robe, which he hath wrought, 
 
 Shall deck us all around ; 
 Nor by the piercing eye of God 
 One blemish shall be found. 
 
 5 Pardon, and peace, and lively hope 
 
 To sinners now are given ; 
 Israel and Judah soon shall change 
 Their wilderness for heaven. 
 
 6 With joy we taste that manna now, 
 
 Thy mercy scatters down ! 
 We seal our humble vows to thee. 
 And wait the promised crown. 
 
 HYMN CXXXIII. 
 The efficacy of God's word. Jer. xxiii. 29. 
 
 1 With reverend awe, tremendous Lord, 
 We hear the thunders of thy word ; 
 
 The pride of Lebanon it breaks : 
 Swift the celestial fire descends, 
 The flinty rocks in pieces rends, 
 
 And earth to its deep centre shakes. 
 
 2 Arrayed in majesty divine. 
 Here sanctity and justice shine. 
 
 And horror strikes the rebel through ; 
 While loud this awful voice makes known 
 The wonders which thy sword hath done, 
 
 And what thy vengeance yet shall do. 
 
 3 So spread the honours of thy name ; 
 The terrors of a God proclaim ; 
 
 Thick let the pointed arrows fly ; 
 
JEREMIAH. 
 
 1015 
 
 Till sinners, humbled in the dust, 
 Shall own the execution just, 
 
 And bless the hand by which they die. 
 
 4 Then clear the dark tempestuous day, 
 And radiant beams of love display ; 
 
 Each prostrate soul let mercy raise : 
 So shall the bleeding captives feel, 
 Thy word, which gave the wound, can heal. 
 
 And change their groans to songs of praise. 
 
 HYMN CXXXIV. 
 
 The possibility of dying this year. Jeremiah 
 xxviii. 16. 
 
 For New-year's Day. 
 
 1 God of my life, thy constant care 
 
 With blessings crowns each opening j-ear ; 
 This guilty life dost thou prolong. 
 And wake anew mine annual song. 
 
 2 How many precious souls are (led 
 To the vast regions of the dead. 
 Since from this day the changing sun 
 Through his last yearly period run ! 
 
 3 We yet survive ; but who can say. 
 
 Or through the year, or month, or day, 
 
 " I will retain this vital breath ; 
 
 Thus far at least in league with death ?"* 
 
 4 That breath is thine, eternal God ; 
 'Tis thine to fix my soul's abode ; 
 It holds its life from thee alone. 
 On earth, or in the world unknown. 
 
 5 To thee our spirits we resign, 
 
 Make them and own them still as thine ; 
 So shall they smile, secure from fear. 
 Though death should blast the rising year. 
 
 6 Thy children, eager to be gone. 
 Bid time's impetuous tide roll on. 
 And land them on that blooming shore, 
 Where years and death are known no more. 
 
 HYMN CXXXV. 
 
 God's complacency in his thoughts of peace towards 
 his people. Jer. xxix. 11. 
 
 1 Viler than dust, O Lord, are we ; 
 
 And doth thine anger cease ? 
 And doth thy gracious heart o'erflow 
 With purposes of peace ? 
 
 2 And dost thou with delight reflect 
 
 On what thy grace shall do ? 
 And with complacency of soul 
 Enjoy the distant view ? 
 
 3 And can thy often injured love 
 
 So kind a message send, 
 
 That thou to all our lengthened woes 
 Wilt give the expected end ? 
 
 4 Why droop our hearts ? why llow our eyes. 
 
 While such a voice we hear? 
 Why rise our sorrows and our fears, 
 While such a friend is near ? 
 
 5 To all thy other favours add 
 
 A heart to trust thy word, 
 And death itself shall hear us sing. 
 While resting on the Lord. 
 
 HYMN CXXXVI. 
 
 The impudent rehellion of the Jewish refugees at 
 Pathros. Jer. xliv. IG, 17, 28. 
 
 1 Whose words against the Lord are stout ? 
 
 Or who presume to say, 
 " That sovereign law which God proclaims, 
 I dare to disobey." 
 
 2 Ten thousand actions every where 
 
 The impious language speak : 
 Yet power omnipotent stands by. 
 Nor do its thunders break. 
 
 3 But oh ! the dreadful day draws near. 
 
 When God's avenging hand 
 Shall show if feeble mortals' breath, 
 Or God's own word, shall stand. 
 
 4 My soul, with prostrate reverence fall 
 
 Before the voice divine ; 
 And all thine interest and thy powers 
 
 To its command resign. 
 .5 Speak, mighty Lord ; thy servant waits 
 
 The purport of thy will : 
 My heart with secret ardour glows 
 
 Its mandates f to fulfil. 
 
 6 Let the vain sons of Belial boast. 
 
 Their tongues and thoughts are free ; 
 My noblest liberty I own. 
 When subject most to thee. 
 
 HYMN CXXXVII. 
 
 Asking the tcay to Zion, in order to join in covenant 
 with God. Jer. 1. 5. 
 
 1 Inquike, ye pilgrims, for the way 
 
 That leads to Zion's hill ; 
 And thither set your steady face 
 With a determined will. 
 
 2 Invite the strangers all around 
 
 Your pious march to join ; 
 And spread the sentiments you feel 
 Of faith and love divine. 
 
 3 Come, let us to his temple haste. 
 
 And seek his favour there, 
 
 * Isaiah xxviii. 16. 
 
 + Commands. 
 
1016 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 Ik l'oie his footstool liumbly bow, 
 Villi pom out fervent prayer. 
 
 4 Come, let us join our souls to God 
 
 In everlastinj; baiids, 
 Anil seize the blessings he bestow.s 
 W ith eager hearts and hands. 
 
 5 Come, let us seal w ithout delay 
 
 Tiie covenant of his grace ; 
 Nor sliall tiie years of distant life 
 Its memory efl'ace.* 
 
 6 Thus may our rising offspring baste 
 
 To seek tiicir fathers' God, 
 Nor e'er forsake the happy path 
 Their youthful feet have trod. 
 
 HYMN CXXXVIII. 
 Searchiiif/ and trying our ways. Lam. iii. 40. 
 
 1 Thy piercing eye, O God, surveys 
 The various windings of our ways ; 
 Teach «s their tendency to know, 
 And judge the paths in which we go. 
 
 2 How wild, how crooked have they been ! 
 A maze of foolishness and sin ! 
 
 Witii all the light we vainly boast. 
 Leaving our guide, our souls are lost. 
 
 3 Had not thy mercy been our aid. 
 So fatally our feet had strayed. 
 Stern justice had its prisoners led 
 Down to the chambers of the dead. 
 
 4 O turn us back to thee again, 
 
 Or we shall search our ways in vain ; 
 Shine, and the path of life reveal, 
 And bear us on to Zion's hill. 
 
 5 Roll on, ye swift revolving years, 
 And end tliis round of sins and cares; 
 No more a wanderer would I roam. 
 But near my Father fix at home. 
 
 HYMN CXXXIX. 
 
 The hreatli of our nostrils taken in the pits of the 
 enemy ; applied to Christ. Lam. iv. 20. 
 
 1 Blest Saviour, to my heart more dear 
 Tiian balmy gales of vital air; 
 
 Were thy soul-cheering presence gone. 
 What use of breath, unless to groan ? 
 
 2 Thy Fatlier's royal hand hath shed, 
 In ricli profusion on thy head. 
 Ten thousand graces : thou alone 
 Can.st share, and canst adorn his throne. 
 
 3 But see the sovereign Captive led, 
 Snared in the pit which traitors made, 
 
 Fettered with ignominious bauds. 
 And murdered by rebellious hands. 
 
 4 Y''e saints, to your expiring King 
 Your tributary sorrows bring ; 
 In loyal crowds assemble round. 
 And bathe in tears each precious wound. 
 
 6 But from the caverns of tlie grave 
 He springs omnii)otent to save ; 
 The captive King ascends and reigns. 
 And drags his conquered foes in chains. 
 
 6 Beneath his shade our souls shall live. 
 In all tlie rapture heaven can give; 
 Where Zion never shall deplore, 
 And heathens vex his church no more. 
 
 HYMN CXL. 
 Of lamenting national sins. Ezek. ix. 4 — 6. 
 
 For a Fast-day. 
 
 1 O RIGHTEOUS God, thou judge supreme, 
 We tremble at thy dreadful name ; 
 And all our crying guilt we own 
 In dust and tears before tiiy throne. 
 
 2 So manifold our crimes ha'te been. 
 Such crimson tincture dyes our sin, 
 That, could we all its horrors know. 
 Our streaming eyes with blood nught flow. 
 
 3 Britain, the land thine arm hath saved, 
 Tiiat arm most impiously hath braved ;t 
 Britain, the isle its God hath loved, 
 A rebel to that love hath proved. 
 
 4 Estranged from reverential awe, 
 We trample on thy sacred law : 
 And tliough such wonders grace had done. 
 Anew we crucify thy Son. 
 
 5 Justly might this polluted land 
 
 Prove all the vengeance of thy hand ; 
 And, bathed in heaven, ^ thy sword might come 
 To drink our blood, and seal our doom. 
 
 6 Yet hast thou not a remnant here, 
 Whose souls are filled with pious fear ? 
 O bring thy wonted mercy nigii. 
 While prostrate at tiiy feet they lie. 
 
 7 Behold their tears, attend their moan, 
 Nor turn away their secret groan : 
 With these we join our humble prayer; 
 Our nation shield, our country spare. 
 
 8 But if the sentence be decreed, 
 
 And our dear native land must bleed, 
 By thy sure mark may we be known, 
 And save in life or death thy own. 
 
 * Blot out, destroy. 
 
 + Den«J. 
 
 ; Isaiah xxxiv. 5. 
 
EZEKIEL. 
 
 1017 
 
 HYMN CXLI. 
 
 The iniqiiiti/ of sacrificivy God's children ; or, the 
 evil of a had or neylected education. Ezek. xvi. 
 20, 21 .* 
 
 1 Behoi D, O Israel's God, 
 From thine exaiterl throne, 
 
 And view the desolate abode. 
 Thou once hast called thy own. 
 
 2 The children of tliy flock, 
 By early covenant thine, 
 
 See liow they pour their bleeding souls 
 On every idol's shrine If 
 
 3 To indolence and pride 
 What piteous victims made ! 
 
 Cruslied in their paicnts' fond embrace. 
 And by their care betrayed. 
 
 4 By pleasure's polished dart 
 What numbers here are slain ! 
 
 What numbers there for slaughter bound 
 In Mammon's golden chain ! 
 6 O let thine arm awake, 
 And dash the idols down : 
 O call the captives of their power 
 Thy treasure and thy crown. 
 6 Thee let the fathers own, 
 And thee the sons adore. 
 Joined to the Lord by solemn vows, 
 To be forgot no more. 
 
 HYMN CXLII. 
 
 The humility and submission of a penitent. 
 Ezek. xvi. 6:5. 
 
 1 O INJURKD Majesty of heaven 
 
 Look from thy holy throne. 
 While prostrate rebels own with grief 
 What treasons they have done. 
 
 2 Thy grace, when sin abounded most, 
 
 Reigns with .superior sway ; 
 And pardons, bougiit with Jesus' blood, 
 To rebels dotli display. 
 
 3 While love its grateful anthems tunes. 
 
 Tears mingle with the song ; 
 My heart with tender anguish bleeds, 
 That I such grace sliould wrong. 
 
 4 How shall I lifttliese guilty eyes 
 
 To mine offended Lord I 
 Or how, beneath his heaviest strokes. 
 Pronounce one murmuring word? 
 
 5 Remorse and shame my lips have sealed ; 
 
 But O, my Father, speak ! 
 And all the harmony of heaven 
 Shall through the silence break. 
 
 • Alluiling to the cruel custom among some Iie:ithen9 of snrrifirin? 
 their cliildren to their gods, to wliicli there are fre'iueiit refereiircs in 
 Scripture. 
 
 + AlUr. 
 
 HYMN CXLin. 
 
 God hrinyiny his people into the covenant under the 
 rod. Ezek, xx. 37. 
 
 1 How gracious and how wise 
 Is our chastising God ! 
 
 And O ! how rich the blessings are, 
 Which blossom from his rod ! 
 
 2 He lifts it up on high 
 With pity in his heart. 
 
 That every stroke his children feel 
 May grace and peace impart. 
 
 3 Instructed thus they bow. 
 And own his sovereign sway ; 
 
 They turn their erring footsteps back 
 To his forsaken way. 
 
 4 His covenant love they seek. 
 And seek tlie happy bands. 
 
 That closer still engage their hearts 
 To honour his commands. 
 
 h Dear Father, we consent 
 To discipline divine ; 
 And bless the pains, that make our souls 
 Still more coiTipletely thine. 
 
 HYMN CXLIV. 
 
 God's condescension in hecominy the shepherd of men. 
 Ezek. xxxiv. 31. 
 
 1 And will the Majesty of heaven 
 
 Accept us for his sheep ? 
 And with a shepherd's tender care 
 Such worthless creatures keep? 
 
 2 And will he spread his guardian arms 
 
 Round our defenceless head ? 
 And cause us gently to lie down 
 In his refreshing shade ? 
 
 3 And will he lead our weary souls 
 
 To that delightful scene. 
 Where rivers of salvation (low 
 Through pastures ever green? 
 
 4 What thanks can mortal man repay 
 
 For favours great as thine? 
 Or how can tongues of feeble clay 
 
 Protdaim such love divine? 
 .5 Eternal God, how mean are we ! 
 
 How richly gracious thou ! 
 Our souls, o'erwhelmed with humble joy. 
 
 In silent transports bow. 
 
 HYMN CXLV. 
 
 Scehiny to God for the communication of his Spirit. 
 Ezek. xxxvi. 37. 
 
 1 IIi;ar, gracious Soveieign, from thy throne. 
 And send thy various blessings down ; 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 1018 
 
 Wliile by thine Israel thou art sought, 
 Attend the prayer thy word hath taught. 
 
 2 Come, sacred Spirit, from above, 
 And till the eoldest heart with love ; 
 Sol'teii to flesh the rugged stone, 
 And let thy godlike power be known. 
 
 3 Speak thou, and from the haughtiest eyes 
 Si)all Hoods of pious sorrow rise ; 
 Wliile all their glowing souls are borne 
 To seek that grace which now they scorn. 
 
 4 O let a holy flock await, 
 Numerous around thy temple gate, 
 Each pressing on with zeal to be 
 A living sacrifice to thee. 
 
 5 In answer to our fervent cries, 
 Give us to sec thy church arise ; 
 Or, if that blessing seem too great. 
 Give us to mourn its low estate. 
 
 HYMN CXLVI. 
 Ezekiel's vision of the dry bancs. Ezek. xxxvii. 3. 
 
 1 Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye; 
 See Adam's race in ruin lie ; 
 
 Sin spreads its trophies o'er the ground. 
 And scatters slaughtered heaps around. 
 
 2 And can these mouldering corpses live ? 
 And can these perished bones revive ? 
 That, mighty God, to thee is known ; 
 That wondrous work is all thy own. 
 
 3 Thy ministers are sent in vain 
 To prophesy upon the slain ; 
 
 In vain they call, in vain they cry. 
 Till thine almighty aid is nigh. 
 
 4 But if thy Spirit deign to breathe, 
 
 Life spreads through all the realms of death ; 
 Dry bones obey thy powerful voice ; 
 They move, they waken, they rejoice. 
 
 6 So when thy trumpet's awful sound 
 
 Shall shake the heavens, and rend the ground, 
 Dead saints shall from their tombs arise. 
 And spring to life beyond the skies. 
 
 HYMN CXLVII. 
 
 The waters of the sanctuary healing the dead sea.* 
 Ezek. xlvii. 8, 9. 
 
 1 Great source of being and of love. 
 Thou waterest all the worlds above. 
 And all the joys we mortals know. 
 From thine exhaustlcss fountain flow. 
 
 * Tlie sfa, or lake, where Sodom, Gomorrah, &c. hart stood, which 
 was putrid and poisonoun; and ancient writers say, that no fish could 
 live in it. 
 
 2 A sacred spring, at thy command, 
 From Zion's mount, in Canaan's land, 
 Beside thy temple, cleaves the ground. 
 And pours its limpid streanj around. 
 
 3 The limpid stream with sudden force 
 Swells to a river in its course ; 
 Through desert realms its windings play, 
 And scatter blessings all the way. 
 
 4 Close by its banks in order fair. 
 The blooming trees of life appear ; 
 Their blossoms' fragrant odours give. 
 And on their fruit the nations live. 
 
 5 To the dead sea the waters flow, 
 And carry healing as they go ; 
 
 Its poisonous dregs their power confess. 
 And all its shores the fountain bless. 
 
 6 Flow, wondrous stream, with glory crowned, 
 Flow on to earth's remotest bound ; 
 
 And bear us on thy gentle wave 
 To him, who all thy virtues gave. 
 
 HYMN CXLVIII. 
 
 Tckel ; or. Hie sinner weighed in God's balances, 
 and found wanting. Dan. v. 27. 
 
 1 Raise, thoughtless sinner, raise thine eye. 
 Behold God's balance lifted high : 
 There shall his justice be displayed. 
 
 And there thy hope and life be weighed. 
 
 2 See in one scale his perfect law ; 
 Mark with what force its precepts draw : 
 Wouldst thou the awful test sustain, 
 
 Thy works how light ! thy thoughts how vain ! 
 
 3 Behold the hand of God appears. 
 To trace these dreadful characters ; 
 " Tekel, thy soul is wanting found. 
 
 And wrath shall smite thee to the ground." 
 
 4 Let sudden fear thy nerves unbrace ; 
 Let horror shake thy tottering knees ;t 
 Through all thy thoughts let anguish roll. 
 And deep repentance melt thy soul. 
 
 5 One only hope may yet prevail ? 
 Christ hath a weight to turn the scale ; 
 Still doth the gospel publish peace. 
 And show a Saviour's righteousness. 
 
 6 Great God, exert thy power to save. 
 Deep on the heart these truths engrave ; 
 The ponderous load of guilt remove. 
 That trembling lips may sing thy love. 
 
 HYMN CXLIX. 
 
 TJie backslider recollecting himself in his afflictions. 
 Hosea ii. 6, 7. 
 
 1 The Lord, how kind are all his ways. 
 When most they seem severe ! 
 
 + Compare verse 6. 
 
HOSEA. 
 
 1019 
 
 He frowns, and scourges, and rebukes, 
 That we may learn his fear. 
 
 2 With thorns he fences up our path, 
 
 And builds a wall around, 
 To guard us from the death, that lurks 
 In sin's forbidden ground. 
 
 3 When other lovers, sought in vain. 
 
 Our fond address despise. 
 He opens his indulgent arms 
 With pity in his eyes. 
 
 4 Return, ye wandering souls, return, 
 
 And seek his tender breast ; 
 Call back the memory of the days, 
 When there you found your rest. 
 
 6 Beliold, O Lord, we fly to thee. 
 Though blushes veil our face. 
 Constrained our last retreat to seek 
 In thy much injured grace. 
 
 HYMN CL. 
 
 The advantages of seekinff the knowledge of God. 
 Hosea vi. 3. 
 
 1 Shine forth, eternal source* of light, 
 
 And make thy glories known ; 
 Fill our enlarged adoring sight 
 With lustre all thy own. 
 
 2 Vain are the charms, and faint the rays 
 
 The brightest creatures boast ; 
 And all their grandeur and their praise 
 Is in thy presence lost. 
 
 3 To know the Author of our frame 
 
 Is our sublimest skill : 
 True science is to read thy name, 
 True life to obey thy will. 
 
 4 For this I long, for this I pray, 
 
 And following on i';ursue. 
 Till visions of eternal day 
 Fix and complete the view. 
 
 HYMN CLI. 
 Inconstancy in religion, Hosea vi. 4. 
 
 1 Perpetual source of light and grace, 
 
 We hail thy sacred name : 
 Through every year's revolving round 
 Thy goodness is the same. 
 
 2 On us, all worthless as we are. 
 
 Its wondrous mercy pours; 
 Sure as the heaven's establislied course, 
 And plenteous as the showers. 
 
 3 Inconstant service we repay. 
 
 And treacherous vows renew ; 
 
 * FoudUid, or original. 
 
 False as the morning's scattering cloud, 
 And transient as the dew. 
 
 4 In flowing tears our guilt we mourn, 
 
 And loud implore thy grace. 
 To bear our feeble footsteps on 
 In all thy righteous ways. 
 
 5 Armed with this energy divine. 
 
 Our souls shall stedfast move, 
 And with increasing transports press 
 On to thy courts above. 
 
 6 So by thy power the morning sun 
 
 Pursues his radiant way. 
 Brightens each moment in his race, 
 And shines to perfect day. 
 
 HYMN CLII. 
 Gratitude the spring of true religion. Hosea xi. 4. 
 
 1 Mv God, what silken cords are thine ! 
 
 How soft, and yet how strong ! 
 While power, and truth, and love combine 
 To draw our souls along. 
 
 2 Thou sawest us crushed beneath the yoke 
 
 Of Satan and of sin : 
 Thy hand tlie iron bondage broke 
 Our worthless hearts to win. 
 
 3 The guilt of twice ten thousand sins 
 
 One moment takes away ; 
 And grace, when first the war begins, 
 Secures the crowning day. 
 
 4 Comfort through all this vale of tears 
 
 In rich profusion Hows, 
 And glory of unnumbered years 
 Eternity bestows. 
 
 5 Drawn by such cords we onward move, 
 
 Till round thy tlironc we meet; 
 And captives in the chains of love. 
 Embrace our Conqueror's feet. 
 
 HYMN CLIII. 
 
 The relentings of God's heart over his backsliding 
 people. Hosea xi. 7, 8, 9. 
 
 1 Ye sinners, on backsliding bent, 
 
 God's gracious call attend ; 
 Shall not compassion so divine 
 Each stubborn spirit bend ? 
 
 2 " How shall I give mine Israel up 
 
 To ruin and despair ? 
 How pour down showers of flaming wrath, 
 And make a Sodom there ? 
 
 3 " My bowels strong relentings feel ; 
 
 My heart is pained within : 
 I will not all my wrath exert, 
 Nor visit all their sin. 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 4 " The mercy of a Cod restrains 
 
 The thunders of liis hand : 
 Come, seek protection from tiiat power, 
 A\ hich j'ou can ne'er withstand." 
 
 5 With tremhlins liaste, O God, to thee 
 
 Let sinners win;; their flight; 
 As (h)ves, \\hcn birds of prey pursue, 
 Down oil tlieir windows light. 
 
 C Fatlier, we seek tliy gracious arm. 
 All melted at thy voice: 
 O may thy heart, that feels our woes, 
 In our return rejoice. 
 
 HYMN CLIV. 
 God's controversy by fire, Amos iv. 11. 
 
 Oil occasion of a dreadful Fire. 
 
 1 Eternal God, our humbled souls 
 
 Before thy presence bow ; 
 With all thy magazines of wrath. 
 How terrible art thou ! 
 
 2 Fanned by thy breath, whole sheets of flame 
 
 Do like a deluge pour ; 
 And all our confidence of wealth 
 Lies mouldered in an hour. 
 
 3 Led on by thee in horrid pomp, 
 
 Destruction rears its head ; 
 And blackened walls, and smoking heaps, 
 Through all the street are spread. 
 
 4 Lord, in the dust we lay us down, 
 
 And mourn thy righteous ire ;* 
 Yet bless the hand of guardian love, 
 That snatched us from the fire. 
 
 5 O that the hateful dregs of sin 
 
 Like dross had perished there, 
 That in fair lines our purged souls 
 Might tliy bright image bear. 
 
 6 So shall we view with dauntless eyes 
 
 The last tremendous day. 
 When earth and seas, and stars and skies, 
 In flames shall melt away. 
 
 HYMN CLV. 
 
 Britain unreformed hij remarkable deliverances, 
 Amos iv. 11. 
 
 For a Fast- day, 
 
 1 Yes, Britain seemed to ruin doomed, 
 
 Just like a burning brand ; 
 Till snatched from fierce surrounding flames 
 By God's indulgent hand. 
 
 2 " Once more (he says) I will suppress 
 
 The wrath, that sin would wake ; 
 
 * Anger. 
 
 Once more my patience shall attend, 
 And call my Britain back." 
 
 3 But who this clemency reveres? 
 
 Or feels this melting grace? 
 Who stirs his languid spirit up 
 To seek thine awful face ? 
 
 4 On days like these we pour our cries, 
 
 And at thy feet we mourn ; 
 Then rise to tempt thy wrath again. 
 And to our sins return. 
 
 6 Our nation far from God remains, 
 Far, as in distant years ; 
 And the small remnant that is found, 
 
 A dying aspect wears. 
 
 6 Chastened and rescued thus in vain, 
 
 Thy righteous hand severe 
 Into the flames might hurl us back. 
 And quite consume us there. 
 
 7 So, by the light our burning gives. 
 
 Might neighbouring nations read, 
 How terrible thy judgments are, 
 And learn our guilt to dread. 
 
 8 Yet 'midst the cry of sins like ours. 
 
 Incline thy gracious ear ; 
 And thy own children's feeble cry 
 With soft compassion hear. 
 
 9 O by the sacred Spirit's breath 
 
 Kindle a holy flame ; 
 Refine the land thou miglitst destroy. 
 And magnify thy name. 
 
 HYMN CLVI. 
 Preparing to ineet God. Amos iv. 12, 13. 
 
 1 He comes, thy God, O Israel, comes ; 
 
 Prepare thy God to meet: 
 Meet him in battle's force arrayed. 
 Or humbled at his feet. 
 
 2 He formed the mountains by his strength ; 
 
 He makes the winds to blow ; 
 And all the secret thoughts of man 
 Must his Creator know. 
 
 3 He shades the morning's opening rays : 
 
 He shakes the solid world ; 
 And stars and angels from their seats 
 Are by his thunder hurled. 
 
 4 Eternal Sovereign of the skies. 
 
 And shall thine Israel dare 
 In mad rebellion to arise, 
 And tempt the unequal war? 
 
 5 Lo, nations tremble at thy frown, 
 
 And faint beneath thy rod ; 
 Crushed by its gentle movement down, 
 They fall, tremendous God. 
 
JONAH. 
 
 6 Avert the tenors of thy wrath. 
 And let thy mercy shine ; 
 While humble penitence and prayer 
 Approve us truly thine. 
 
 HYMN CLVII. 
 
 Jonah's faith recommended. Jonah ii. 4. 
 
 1 Lord, we have broke thy holy laws, 
 
 And slighted all thy grace ; 
 And justly thy vindictive* wrath 
 Might cast us from thy face. 
 
 2 Yet while such precedents appear 
 
 Marked in thy sacred book, 
 We from these depths of guilt and fear 
 Will to thy temple look. 
 
 3 To thee, in our Redeemer's name. 
 
 We raise our humble cries ; 
 May these our prayers, perfumed by him, 
 Like grateful incense rise. 
 
 4 O never may our hopeless eyes 
 
 An absent God deplore. 
 Where the dear temples of thy love 
 Shall stand revealed no more. 
 
 5 Far from those regions of despair 
 
 Appoint our souls a place, 
 Where not a frown through endless years 
 Shall veil thy lovely face. 
 
 HYMN CLVIII. 
 
 God's controversy with Britain stated and pleaded. 
 Micah vi. 1 — 3. 
 
 For a Fa«t.day. 
 
 1 Listen', ye hills ; yc mountains, hear; 
 Jehovah vindicates his laws; 
 Trembling in silence at his bar. 
 Thou earth, attend thy Maker's cause. 
 
 2 Israel, appear ; present thy plea; 
 And charge the Almighty to his face ; 
 Say, if his rules oppressive be ; 
 
 Say, if defective be his grace. 
 
 3 Eternal J udge, the action cease ; 
 
 Our lips are sealed in conscious shame ; 
 'Tis ours, in sackcloth to confess. 
 And thine, the sentence to proclaim. 
 
 4 Ten thousand witnesses arise, 
 
 Thy mercies, and our crimes appear, 
 More than the stars that deck the skies, 
 And all our dreadful guilt declare. 
 
 .5 How shall we come before thy face, 
 And in thine awful presence bow? 
 
 * Avenging. 
 
 MICAH. 1021 
 
 What offers can secure thy grace, 
 Or calm the terrors of thy brow? 
 
 6 Thousands of rams in vain might bleed ; 
 Rivers of oil might blaze in vain ; 
 
 Or the first-born's devoted head 
 With horrid gore thine altar stain. 
 
 7 But thy own Lamb, all-gracious God, 
 Whom impious sinners dared to sla^^ 
 Hath sovereign virtue in his blood 
 To purge the nation's guilt away. 
 
 8 With humble faith to that we fly : 
 With that be Britain sprinkled o'er ; 
 Trembling no more in dust we lie, 
 And dread thy hand and bar no more. 
 
 HYMN CLIX. 
 Hearing the voice of God's rod. Micah vi. 9. 
 
 1 Attend, my soul, with reverent awe. 
 
 The dictates of thy God ; 
 Silent and trembling hear the voice 
 Of his appointed rod. 
 
 2 Now let me search and try my ways, 
 
 And prostrate seek his face. 
 Conscious of guilt before his throne 
 In dust my soul abase. 
 
 3 Teach me, my God, what 's yet unknown. 
 
 And all my crimes forgive ; 
 Those crimes would I no more repeat. 
 But to thy honour live. 
 
 4 My withered joys too plainly show, 
 
 That all on earth is vain ; 
 In God my wounded heart confides 
 True rest and bliss to gain. 
 
 5 Father, I wait thy gracious call. 
 
 To leave this mournful land, 
 And bathe in rivers of delight, 
 That flow at thy right hand. 
 
 HYMN CLX. 
 
 God's incomparable jnercy admired. Micah vii. 18, 
 19, 20. 
 
 1 Supreme in mercy, who shall dare 
 With thy compassion to compare? 
 For thy own sake \^ih thou forgive. 
 And bid the trembling sinner live. 
 
 2 Millions of our transgressions past. 
 Cancelled behind thy back are cast ; 
 Thy grace, a sea without a shore, 
 O'erflows them, and they rise no more. 
 
 3 And lest new legions should invade. 
 And make the pardoned souls afraid. 
 Our inbred lusts thou wilt subdue. 
 And form degenerate hearts anew. 
 
1022 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 4 Our leader God, our songs proclaim ; 
 We lift our banners in his name ; 
 Witl) sonojs of triumph forth we go, 
 And level the gigjantie foe. 
 
 6 His truth to Jaeob shall prevail ; 
 His oath to Abraham cannot fail: 
 The hope of saints in ancient days, 
 Which ages yet unborn shall praise. 
 
 HYMN CLXI. 
 
 The impoverished saint rejoicing in God. Hab. iii. 
 17, 18. 
 
 1 So firm the saint's foundations stand. 
 
 Nor can his hopes remove ; 
 Sustained by God's almighty hand, 
 And sheltered in his love. 
 
 2 Fig-trees and olive-plants may fail, 
 
 And vines their fruit deny, 
 Famine through all his fields prevail, 
 And flocks and herds may die. 
 
 3 God is the treasure of his soul, 
 
 A source of sacred joy ; 
 Which no affliction can control. 
 Nor death itself destroy. 
 
 4 Lord, may we feel thy charming beams, 
 
 And taste thy saints' repose, 
 We will not mourn the perished streams, 
 While such a fountain flows. 
 
 HYMN CLXII, 
 
 God's afflicted poor trusting in his name. Zeph. 
 iii. 12. 
 
 1 Praise to the Sovereign of the sky. 
 
 Who from his lofty throne 
 Looks down on all that humble lie, 
 And calls such souls his own. 
 
 2 The haughty sinner he disdains. 
 
 Though gems his temples crown; 
 And from the seat of pomp and pride 
 His vengeance hurls him down. 
 .3 On his afflicted pious poor 
 
 He makes his face to shine ; 
 He fills their cottages of clay 
 With lustre all divine. 
 
 4 Among the meanest of thy flock 
 
 There let my dwelling be. 
 Rather than under gilded roofs, 
 If absent, Lord, from thee. 
 
 5 Poor and afflicted though we are, 
 
 In thy strong name we trust ; 
 And bless the hand of sovereign love, 
 Which lifts us from the dust. 
 
 HYMN CLXIII. 
 
 God comforting aiid rejoicing over Zion. Zeph. 
 iii. 16, 17. 
 
 1 Yes, 'tis the voice of love divine ! 
 And O ! how sweet the accents sound ! 
 Alllicted Zion, rise and shine. 
 Fair mourner, prostrate on the ground. 
 
 2 The mighty God, thy glorious King, 
 Tender to pity, strong to save. 
 Hath sworn he will salvation bring. 
 Though sorrow press me to the grave. 
 
 3 He all a father's pleasure knows 
 To fold thee in his dear embrace ; 
 His heart with secret joy o'erflows, 
 And cheerful smiles adorn his face. 
 
 4 At length the inward ecstasy 
 In heavenly music breaks its way ; * 
 Jehovah leads the harmony, 
 And angels teach their harps the lay.f 
 
 5 Fain would my lips the chorus | join, 
 And tell the listening world my joys. 
 But condescension so divine 
 In silence swallows up ray voice. 
 
 HYMN CLXIV. 
 
 Practical reflections on the state of our fathers 
 Zeeh. i. 5. 
 
 1 How swift the torrent rolls, 
 That bears us to the sea ! 
 
 The tide that bears our thoughtless souls 
 To vast eternity ! 
 
 2 Our fathers, where are they. 
 With all they called their own ? 
 
 Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares, 
 And wealth and honour gone. 
 
 3 But joy or grief succeeds 
 Beyond our mortal thought. 
 
 While the poor remnant of their dust 
 Lies in the grave forgot. 
 
 4 There, where the fathers lie. 
 Must all the children dwell ; 
 
 Nor other heritage possess, 
 But such a gloomy cell. 
 
 5 God of our fathers, hear. 
 Thou everlasting Friend ! 
 
 While we, as on life's utmost verge, § 
 Our souls to thee commend. 
 
 6 Of all tlie pious dead 
 May we the footsteps trace. 
 
 Till with them in the land of light 
 We dwell before thy face. 
 
 ♦ See tlie marginal reading. + Sonj,'. 
 
 i Company of sinfjers. § Kdge or border. 
 
ZECHARIAH. 
 
 1 
 
 HYMN CLXV. 
 
 Joshua the high priest's chanye of raiment, applied 
 to Christian privileges. Zech. iii. 4. 
 
 1 Eternal King, thy robes are white 
 In spotless rays of heavenly light ; 
 Adoring angels round are seen, 
 Yet in thy presence are not clean. 
 
 2 What then are we, the sons of earth. 
 That draw pollution from our birth ? 
 Our fleshly garments. Lord, how mean ! 
 O'erspread with hateful spots of sin. 
 
 3 Hail to that condescending grace. 
 Which shows a Saviour's righteousness ! 
 Eternal honours to that name, 
 
 Which covers all our guilt and shame ! 
 
 4 His blood, an overflowing sea, 
 Shall purge our deepest stains away : 
 Our souls, renewed by grace divine, 
 Shall in their Lord's resemblance shine. 
 
 6 Yet, while these rags of flesh we wear, 
 Pollution will again appear: 
 Come, death, and case me of the load; 
 Come, death, and bear my soul to God. 
 
 6 The King of heaven will there bestow 
 A richer robe than monarchs know ; 
 Dress all his saints in glittering white ; 
 Not Joshua's mitre shone so bright. 
 
 7 The grave its trophies shall resign, 
 Christ will the mouldering dust refine ; 
 And death, the last of foes, shall be 
 Swallowed and lost in victory. 
 
 8 My faith, on towering pinions borne, 
 Anticipates that glorious morn ; 
 And, with celestial raptures strolig. 
 Gives mortal lips the immortal song. 
 
 HYMN CLXVI. 
 
 Joshua the high priest's zeal and fidelitif rewarded 
 with a station among the angels. Zech. iii. 6, 7. 
 
 For the Ordination of a Minister. 
 
 1 Great Lord of angels, we adore 
 
 The grace, that builds thy courts below ; 
 And through ten thousand sons of light, 
 Sloops to regard what mortals do. 
 
 2 Amidst the wastes of time and death 
 Successive pastors thou dost raise. 
 Thy charge to keep, thy house to guide. 
 And form a people for thy praise. 
 
 .3 The heavenly natives with deliglit 
 Hover around the sacred place ; 
 Nor scorn to learn from mortal tongues 
 The wonders of redeeming grace. 
 
 4 At length, dismissed from feeble clay, 
 Thy servants join the angelic band ; 
 With them through distant worlds they fly. 
 With them before thy presence stand. 
 
 5 O glorious hope ! O blest employ ! 
 Sweet lenitive* of grief and care! 
 When shall we reach those radiant courts, 
 And all their joy and honour share ! 
 
 6 Yet while these labours we pursue. 
 Thus distant from thy heavenly throne. 
 Give us a zeal and love like theirs, 
 
 And half their heaven shall here be known. 
 
 HYMN CLXVII. 
 
 The completing of the spiritual temple. Zech. iv. 
 
 1 Sing to the Lord above. 
 Who deigns on earth to raise 
 A temple to his love, 
 
 A monument of praise. 
 Ye saints around. 
 Through all its frame, 
 The builder's name 
 Harmonious sound. 
 
 2 He formed the glorious plan. 
 And its foundation laid. 
 
 That God might dwell with man. 
 And mercy be displayed ; 
 
 His Son he sent. 
 
 Who, great and good, 
 
 Made his own blood 
 
 The sweet cement. 
 
 3 Beneath his eye and care 
 The edifice shall rise 
 Majestic, strong, and fair. 
 And shine above the skies. 
 
 There shall he place 
 The polished stone. 
 Ordained to crown 
 This -Aork of grace. 
 
 HYMN CLXVIIL 
 
 The error of despising the day of small things. 
 Zech. iv. 10. 
 
 1 " What haughty scorner," saith llie Lord, 
 
 "■ Shall humble things despise. 
 When he beholds them with delight. 
 Who reigns beyond the skies ? 
 
 2 " I from a chaos dark and wild f 
 
 Made heavens bright host appear : 
 I from the small unnoticed seeds 
 The loftiest cedars rear. 
 
 3 " From Eden's dust I Adam formed, 
 
 The noblest human frame ; 
 
 * What etiseth or assuageth. + Genesis i. I, 3. 
 
1024 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 And in his Ininibic sons display 
 The honours of nij' name. 
 
 4 " From fislirrnien, in number few, 
 
 In human arts untaught. 
 All the wild realms my church can boast, 
 My potent hand hath brought. 
 
 5 " The pious poor, by men despised, 
 , In dearest bonds are mine ; 
 
 Once hardly drest in humble weeds,* 
 They now like angels shine." 
 
 6 Lord, if such trophies raised from dust. 
 
 Thy sovereign glory be, 
 Here in my heart thy power may find 
 Materials fit for thee. 
 
 HYMN CLXIX. 
 
 Pi isoners delivered from the pit by the blood of the 
 covenant. Zech. ix. II. 
 
 1 Ye prisoners, who in bondage lie, 
 
 In darkness and the pit, 
 Behold the grace that sets us free, 
 And to that grace submit. 
 
 2 The tidings of deliverance bear. 
 
 Confess the covenant good. 
 And bless the ransom God hath found 
 In our Emanuel's blood. 
 
 3 Justice no more asserts its claim 
 
 Your forfeit lives to take ; 
 But smiling mercy quick descends 
 Your heavy chains to break. 
 
 4 We Avalk at larpre, and sing the hand, 
 
 To which we freedom owe ; 
 And drink those rivers with delight, 
 Which through this desert flow. 
 
 5 He, that hath liberty bestowed, 
 
 Will give a kingdom too ; 
 He, that hath loosed the bonds of death. 
 The path of life will show. 
 
 HYMN CLXX. 
 The fountain of life. Zech. xiii. 1. 
 
 1 Hail, everlasting spring! 
 Celestial fountain, hail ! 
 Thy streams salvation bring. 
 The waters never fail ; 
 
 Still they endure. 
 And still they flow, 
 For all our woe 
 A sovereign cure. 
 
 2 Blest be his wounded side, 
 And blest his bleeding heart. 
 Who all in anguish died 
 Such favours to impart. 
 
 * Oarroents. 
 
 His sacred blood 
 
 Shall make us clean 
 
 From every sin, 
 
 \nd fit for God. 
 3 To that dear source of love 
 Our souls this day would come : 
 And thither from above. 
 Lord, call the nations home ; 
 
 That .lew and Greek 
 
 With rapturous songs 
 
 On all their tongues 
 
 Thy praise may speak. 
 
 HYMN CLXXL 
 
 God's name profaned when his table is treated with 
 contempt. Mai. i. 12. 
 
 Applied to the Lord's Supper. 
 
 1 My God, and is thy table spread? 
 And does thy cup with love o'erflow ? 
 Thither be all thy children led. 
 
 And let them all its sweetness know. 
 
 2 Hail, sacred feast, which Jesus makes! 
 Rich banquet of his flesh and blood ! 
 Thrice happy he, who here partakes 
 That sacred stream, that heavenly food ! 
 
 3 Why are its dainties all in vain 
 Before unwilling hearts displayed ? 
 Was not for you the victim slain ? 
 Are you forbid the children's bread ? 
 
 4 O let thy table honoured be, 
 
 And furnished well with joyful giiests ; 
 
 And may each soul salvation see. 
 
 That here its sacred pledges taste. 
 h Let crowds approach with hearts prepared; 
 
 With hearts inflamed let all attend ; 
 
 Nor, when we leave our Father's board, 
 
 The pleasure or the profit end. 
 6 Revive thy dying cliurches, Lord, 
 
 And bid our drooping graces live ; 
 
 And more that energy afford, 
 
 A Saviour's blood alone can give. 
 
 HYMN CLXXII. 
 
 God's gracious regard to active attempts to revive 
 religion. Mai. iii. 16, 17. 
 
 1 The Lord on mortal worms looks down. 
 
 From his celestial throne ; 
 And, when the wicked swarm around. 
 He well discerns his own. 
 
 2 He sees the tender hearts, that mourn 
 
 The scandals of the times ; 
 And join their efforts to oppose 
 The wide prevailing crimes. 
 
 3 Low to the social band he bows 
 
 His still attentive ear ; 
 
MALACHI. 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 And, while his angels sing around, 
 Delights their voice to hear. 
 
 4 The chronicles of heaven shall keep 
 
 Their words in transcript fair ; 
 In the Redeemer's book of life 
 Their names recorded are. 
 
 5 " Yes, (saith the Lord,) the world shall know 
 
 These humble souls are mine : 
 These, when my jewels I produce, 
 Shall in full lustre shine. 
 
 6 " When deluges of fiery wrath 
 
 My foes away shall bear, 
 That hand, which strikes the wicked through, 
 Shall all my children spare." 
 
 HYMN CLXXni. 
 
 Christ the Sun of riyhteousness. Mai. iv. 2. 
 
 1 To thee, O God, we homage pay. 
 Source of the light that rules the day ; 
 
 Who, while he gilds all nature's frame, 
 Reflects thy rays, and speaks thy name. 
 
 2 In louder strains we sing that grace, 
 Which gives the Sun of righteousness ; 
 Whose noble light salvation brings, 
 And scatters healing from his wings. 
 
 3 Still on our hearts may Jesus shine ; 
 With beams of light and love divine ; 
 Quickened by him our souls shall live, 
 And cheered by him shall grow and thrive. 
 
 4 O may his glories stand confessed 
 From north to south, from east to west : 
 Successful may his gospel run. 
 
 Wide as the circuit of the sun. 
 
 5 When shall that radiant scene arise. 
 When fixed on high in purer skies, 
 Christ all his lustre shall display 
 
 On all his saints through endless day? 
 
 HYMNS 
 
 FOUNDED 
 
 ON VARIOUS TEXTS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 HYMN CLXXIV. 
 
 The axe, laid to the root of unfruitful trees. 
 Matt. iii. 13. 
 
 1 The Lord into his vineyard comes 
 
 Our various fruit to see : 
 His eye, more piercing than the light. 
 Examines every tree. 
 
 2 Tremble, ye sinners, at his frown, 
 
 If barren still ye stand ; 
 And fear that keenly-wounding axe. 
 Which arms his awful hand. 
 
 3 Close to the root behold it laid, 
 
 To make destruction sure : 
 Who can resist the mighty stroke ? 
 Or who the fire endure? 
 
 4 Lord, we adore thy sparing love, 
 
 Thy long-expecting grace : 
 Else had we low in ruin fallen, 
 And known no more our place. 
 3 u 
 
 5 Succeeding years thy patience waits ; 
 Nor let it wait in vain ; 
 But form in us abundant fruit. 
 And still this fruit maintain. 
 
 HYMN CLXXV. 
 
 The light of good examples, the most effectual ?<'i 
 to glorify God. Matt. v. IG. 
 
 1 Great Teacher of thy church, we own 
 Thy precepts all divinely wise : 
 
 O may thy mighty power be shown 
 To fix them still before our eyes. 
 
 2 Deep on our hearts thy law engrave. 
 And fill our breasts with heavenly zeal, 
 That, while we trust thy power to save. 
 We may that sacred law fulfil. 
 
 3 Adorned with every heavenly grace. 
 May our examples brightly shine, 
 And the sweet lustre of thy face 
 Reflected beam from each of thine. 
 
1026 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 1 Tlieso linoamcnts,* divinely fair, 
 Our heavenly Fatlier shall proclaim ; 
 And men, that view his image there, 
 Shall join to glorify his name. 
 
 HYMN CLXXVI. 
 
 Providential bounties surveyed and improved. 
 Matt. V. 45. 
 
 1 Father of Lights, we sing thy name, 
 Who kindlestnp the lamp of day ;t 
 Wide as he spreads his golden flame, 
 His beams thy power and love display. 
 
 2 Fountain of good, from thee proceed 
 The copious drops of genial | rain; 
 
 Which through the hills, and through the meads, 
 Revive the grass, and swell the grain. 
 
 3 Through the wide world thy bounties spread ; 
 Yet millions of our guilty race. 
 
 Though by thy daily bounty fed, 
 Affront thy law, and spurn thy grace. 
 
 4 Not so may our forgetful hearts 
 O'erlook the tokens of thy care ; 
 But, what thy liberal hand imparts, 
 Still own in praise, still ask in prayer. 
 
 5 So shall our suns more grateful shine. 
 And showers in sweeter drops shall fall, 
 When all our hearts and lives are thine. 
 And thou, our God, enjoyed in all. 
 
 6 Jesus, our brighter sun, arise ; 
 
 In plenteous showers thy Spirit send ; 
 Earth then shall grow a paradise, 
 And in the heavenly Eden end. 
 
 ■ HYMN CLXXVn. 
 Secret prayer. Matt. vi. 6. 
 
 1 Father divine, thy piercing eye 
 
 Shoots through the darkest night; 
 In deep retirement thou art nigh ; 
 With heart-discerning sight. 
 
 2 There shall that piercing eye survey 
 
 My duteous homage paid. 
 With every morning's dawning ray, 
 And every evening's shade. 
 
 3 O may thy own celestial fire 
 
 The incense still inflame: 
 While my warm vows to thee aspire. 
 Through my Redeemer's name. 
 
 4 So shall the visits of thy love 
 
 My .soul in secret bless ; 
 So.shalt thou deign in worlds above 
 Thy suppliant to confess. 
 
 HYMN CLXXVIII. 
 
 Seehiny first the hingdom of God, ^c. Matt. vi. 
 
 1 Now let a true ambition rise, 
 
 And ardour fire our breast. 
 To reign in worlds above the skies, 
 In heavenly glories drest. 
 
 2 Behold Jehovah's royal hand 
 
 A radiant crown display, 
 W hose gems with vivid lustre shine, 
 While stars and suns decay. 
 
 3 Away, each grovelling anxious care, 
 
 Beneath a Christian's thought ; 
 I spring to seize immortal joys, 
 Which my Redeemer bought. 
 
 4 Ye hearts with youthful vigour warm, 
 
 The glorious prize pursue ; 
 Nor shall ye want the goods of earth. 
 While heaven is kept in view. 
 
 HYMN CLXXIX. 
 Pardon spoken by Christ. Matt. ix. 2. 
 
 1 My Saviour, let mo hear thy voice. 
 
 Pronounce these words of peace ; 
 And all my warmest powers shall join 
 To celebrate the grace. 
 
 2 With gentle smiles call me thy child. 
 
 And speak my sins forgiven ; 
 The accents mild shall charm mine ear 
 All like the harps of heaven. 
 
 3 Cheerful, where'er thy hand shall lead. 
 
 The darkest path I '11 tread ; 
 Cheerful I '11 quit these mortal shores. 
 And mingle with the dead. 
 
 4 When dreadful guilt is done away. 
 
 No other fears we know ; 
 That hand, that scatters pardons down, 
 Shall crowns of life bestow. 
 
 HYMN CLXXX. 
 The relapsing demoniac. Matt. xii. 43 — 45. 
 
 1 Sovereign of heaven, thine empire spreads 
 
 O'er all the worlds on high : 
 And at thy frowns the infernal powers 
 In wild confusion fly. 
 
 2 Like lightning from his glittering throne 
 
 The great arch-traitor fell, 
 Driven with enormous ruin down 
 To infamy and hell. 
 
 3 Permitted now to range at large. 
 
 And traverse § earth and air, 
 O'er captive human souls he reigns, 
 And boasts his kingdom there. 
 
 • Features. + The sun. 
 
 t Making fruitful. 
 
 ) Wander through. 
 
MATTHEW. 
 
 1027 
 
 5 Their fathers' dust the Lord shall raise, 
 And burst the barriers of the grave ; 
 Parents and children join his praise, 
 Who through eternity can save. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXIII. 
 
 4 Yet thence thy grace can drive him out 
 
 With one Almighty word ; 
 O send thy potent sceptre forth. 
 And reign victorious. Lord. 
 
 5 Let wretched prisoners be released 
 
 The smiling light to view ; 
 Nor let the vanquished foe return, 
 Their bondage to renew. 
 
 6 May grace complete that wondrous work, 
 
 Which thy own power begun, 
 And fill, from Satan's gloomy realms, 
 The kingdom of thy Son. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXI. 
 
 The faith of the Syrophcenician woman recommended. 
 Matt. XV. 26, 27. 
 
 1 All-conquering faith, how high it rose, 
 When heaven itself might seem to oppose ! 
 All-gracious Lord, who didst appear 
 Most merciful, when most severe ! 
 
 2 Thus at thy feet our souls would fall, 
 And loudly thus for mercy call ; 
 
 " Thou Son of David, pity show. 
 And save us from the infernal foe." 
 
 3 Though viler than the brutes we be, 
 Our longing eyes would wait on thee. 
 Who dost to dogs this grace afford. 
 To taste thy crumbs beneath thy board. 
 
 4 But thou the humble soul wilt raise, 
 And all its sorrows turn to praise, 
 Each self-abasing broken heart. 
 Shall with thy children share a part. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXII. 
 
 The church built on a roch, and secured against the 
 gates of hell. Matt. xvi. 18. 
 
 1 Now let the gates of Zion sing. 
 And challenge all her spiteful foes ; 
 She triumphs in her Saviour-king, 
 In him, who from the dead arose. 
 
 2 He is the rock, on whom we rest. 
 And firm on that foundation stand ; 
 Divine compassion fills his breast. 
 His word is sure, and .strong his hand. 
 
 .3 Hell and its host may rage in vain ; 
 Vain are their counsels and their power ; 
 Grim death may marshal all his train, 
 And boast the conquest of an hour. 
 
 4 Breathless and pale his servants lie, 
 A.nd know their former place no more ; 
 Their children raise his praises high, 
 And o'er their fathers' dust adore. 
 
 Christ's transfiguration. Matt. xvii. 4. 
 
 1 When at this distance. Lord, we trace 
 The various glories of thy face. 
 
 What transport pours o'er all our breast, 
 And charms our cares and woes to rest ! 
 
 2 With thee in the obscurest cell 
 
 On some bleak mountain would I dwell, 
 Rather than pompous courts behold, 
 And share their grandeur and their gold. 
 
 3 Away, ye dreams of mortal joy ! 
 Raptures divine my thoughts employ ! 
 I see the King of glory shine ; 
 
 And feel his love, and call him mine. 
 
 4 On Tabor * thus his servants viewed 
 His lustre, when transformed he stood ; 
 And, bidding earthly scenes farewell. 
 Cried, " Lord, 'tis pleasant here to dwell." 
 
 5 Yet still our elevated eyes 
 
 To nobler visions long to rise ; 
 That grand assembly would we join. 
 Where all thy saints around thee shine. 
 
 6 That mount how bright ! those forms how fair ! 
 'Tis good to dwell for ever there : 
 
 Come death, dear envoy \ of my God, 
 And bear rae to that blest abode. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXIV. 
 
 The grace of Christ in ministering to men, and dying 
 for them. Matt. xx. 28. 
 
 1 Saviour of men, and Lord of love. 
 
 How sweet thy gracious name ; 
 With joy that errand we review, 
 On which thy mercy came. 
 
 2 While all thy own angelic bands 
 
 Stood waiting on the wing. 
 Charmed with the honour to obey 
 The word of such a King ; 
 
 3 For us mean, wretched, sinful men 
 
 Thou laidst tliat glory by, 
 First in our mortal flesh to serve, 
 Then in that flesh to die. 
 
 1 Bought with thy service and thy blood, 
 We doubly, Lord, are thine ; 
 To thee our lives we would devote, 
 To thee our death resign. 
 
 ♦ The mountain on wliich Christ was transfigured. 
 + Messenger or amljassador. 
 
1028 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 5 Blest man, who in tliy cause consumes 
 His vigorous days with zeal ! 
 Then w ith tiie last slow ebb of blood 
 Is called thy truth to seal ! 
 
 HYMN CLXXXV. 
 
 Christ's compassionate rcaeliness to gather sards. 
 Matt, xxiii. 37, 38. 
 
 1 See how the Lord of" mercy spreads 
 
 His gentle hands abroad ; 
 And warns us of the circling foes, 
 That thirst to drink our blood ! 
 
 2 " Fly to the shelter of mine arms. 
 
 And dwell secure from fear ; 
 Nor earth nor hell shall pluck you thence. 
 Or reach and wound you there." 
 
 3 With anxious heart the parent-bird 
 
 Thus calls her offspring round, 
 When horrid vultures beat the air, 
 And slaughter stains the ground. 
 
 4 The trembling brood, by nature taught, 
 
 Fly to the known retreat, 
 Beneath her downy wings are safe, 
 And find the shelter sweet. 
 
 5 But men, alas ! more thoughtless men. 
 
 Refuse to lend an ear ; 
 Their only refuge madly fly. 
 And rather die than hear. 
 
 G They spurn the Saviour's offered grace, 
 Till they his wrath inflame ; 
 Then desolation lays them low 
 In agony and shame. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXVI. 
 
 The abounding of iiiiquitg, and coldness of Christian 
 love. Matt. xxiv. 12. 
 
 For a Fast.day. 
 
 1 Alas for Britain, and her sons ! 
 
 What hath she not to fear ? 
 The sins, that ruined Sodom once, 
 O how triumphant here ! 
 
 2 Alas the strong o'erflowing tide ! 
 
 How fiercely doth it rage ! 
 And each foreboding symptom joins 
 In terrible presage. 
 
 3 Yet who hath eyes that can discern ? 
 
 Or who an ear to hear? 
 Whose heart is trembling for the ark? 
 Or for his country dear? 
 
 4 Cold is the love of Christian breasts, 
 
 If Christian breasts remain ; 
 And dying the last sparks of zeal, 
 Or its last efforts vain. 
 
 5 Of Britain, oft chastised and saved, 
 What shall the end be found .' 
 Shall not the sword, that waves so long, 
 Inflict the deeper wound ? 
 
 0 O stay thine arm, all-gracious God; 
 
 Thy Spirit largely pour ; 
 He can the streams of guilt restrain, 
 And dying love restore. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXVII. 
 
 The final sentence, and happiness of the righteous. 
 Matt. XXV. 34. 
 
 1 Attend, mine ear; my heart, rejoice; 
 
 While Jesus from his throne. 
 Begirt with all the angelic hosts. 
 Makes his last sentence known. 
 
 2 When sinners, cursed from his face, 
 
 To raging flames are driven. 
 His voice, with melody divine. 
 Thus calls his saints to heaven. 
 
 3 " Blest of my Father, all draw near, 
 
 Receive the large reward ; 
 And rise with raptures to possess 
 The kingdom love prepared. 
 
 4 " Ere earth's foundations first were laid, 
 
 This sovereign purpose wrought, 
 And reared those palaces divine. 
 To which you now are brought. 
 
 5 " There shall you reign unnumbered years, 
 
 Protected by my power. 
 While sin and hell, and pains and cares. 
 Shall vex your souls no more." 
 
 6 Come, dear majestic Saviour, come, 
 
 This jubilee proclaim, 
 And teach us accents fit to praise 
 So great, so dear a name. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXVIII. 
 Relieving Christ in his poor saints. Matt. xxv. 40. 
 
 1 .Jesus, my Lord, how rich thy grace ! 
 
 Thy bounties how complete ! 
 How shall I count the matchless sum ? 
 How pay the mighty debt ? 
 
 2 High on a throne of radiant light 
 
 Dost thou exalted shine ; 
 What can my poverty bestow. 
 When all the worlds are thine ? 
 
 3 But thou hast brethren here below, 
 
 The partners of thy grace. 
 And wilt confess their humble names 
 Before thy Father's face. 
 
 4 In them thou mayst be clothed and fed. 
 
 And visited and cheered, 
 
MATTHEW. 
 
 1029 
 
 And in their accents of distress 
 My Saviour's voice is heard. 
 
 5 Thy face with reverence and with love 
 
 I in thy poor would see ; 
 O, rather let me beg my bread, 
 Than hold it back from thee. 
 
 HYMN CLXXXIX. 
 
 The final sentence and misery of the wicked. Matt. 
 XXV. 41. 
 
 1 And will the Judge descend? 
 And must the dead arise ? 
 
 And not a single soul escape 
 His all-discerning eyes ? 
 
 2 And from his righteous lips 
 Shall such a sentence sound ? 
 
 And through the millions of the damned 
 Spread black despair around ? 
 
 3 " Depart from me, accursed, 
 To everlasting flame, 
 
 For rebel angels first prepared, 
 Where mercy never came." 
 
 4 How will my heart endure 
 The terrors of that day. 
 
 When earth and heaven before his face 
 Astonished shrink away ? 
 
 6 But ere that trumpet shakes 
 The mansions of the dead. 
 
 Hark ! from the gospel's gentle voice 
 What joyful tidings spread ! 
 
 6 Ye sinners, seek his grace, 
 Whose wrath ye cannot bear ; 
 
 Fly to the shelter of his cross. 
 And find salvation there. 
 
 7 So shall that curse remove 
 By which the Saviour bled. 
 
 And the last awful day shall pour 
 His blessings on your head. 
 
 HYMN CXC. 
 
 Christ's submission to his Father's will. Matt, 
 xxvi. 42. 
 
 1 " Father divine," (the Saviour cried, 
 While horrors pressed on every side. 
 And prostrate on the ground he lay,) 
 
 " Remove this bitter cup away. 
 
 2 " But if these pangs must still be borne, 
 Or helpless man be left forlorn, 
 
 I bow my soul before thy throne, 
 And say. Thy will, not mine, be done.' 
 
 3 Thus our submissive souls would bow, 
 And, taught by .Jesus, lie as low; 
 Our hearts, and not our lips alone, 
 Would say, Tliy will, not ours, be done. 
 
 4 Then, though like him in dust we lie. 
 We '11 view the blissful moment nigh, 
 Which, from our portion in his pains. 
 Calls to the joy in which he reigns. 
 
 HYMN CXCI. 
 
 Reflections on the disciples forsaking Christ when he 
 was betrayed. Matt. xxvi. 56. 
 
 1 Behold the Son of God's delight ; 
 
 His smiles how sweet ! his rays how bright ! 
 A friend of tenderness unknown : 
 To the last breath he loved his own. 
 
 2 But lo, his friends, his brethren dear. 
 Fled, when they saw his danger near ; 
 And not one generous heart remains 
 To shield his life, or share his pains. 
 
 3 So frail is man ; so frail are we. 
 When unsupported, Lord, by thee ; 
 
 Thus shrinks our faith ; thus droops our love ; 
 And thus our vows abortive prove. 
 
 4 Blest Jesus, thy own power impart. 
 And bind in cords of love my heart : 
 The fugitive no more shall flee. 
 
 But keep through death its hold on thee. 
 
 HYMN CXCII. 
 
 Christ's complaint of his Father's forsaking him on 
 the cross. Matt, xxvii. 46. 
 
 1 Wh at doleful accents do I hear ? 
 What piercing cry invades mine ear ! 
 Loaded with shame, and bathed in blood. 
 Who calls to a forsaking God ? 
 
 2 Amazing and heart-rending sight ! 
 'Tis his own darling and delight. 
 Who once in his embraces lay. 
 Dearer than all the sons of day ! 
 
 3 Yet when this Jesus died for me, 
 Distended on the cursed tree, 
 God stood afar, nor would afford 
 One pitying look, one cheering word. 
 
 4 What then, my soul, must thou have felt, 
 If pressed with all thy load of guilt, 
 Beneath whose weight the Saviour cries. 
 Who formed the earth, and built the skies ? 
 
 .5 But in that dark tremendous hour 
 Unconquered faith exerts its power ; 
 My God, my Father, cried aloud. 
 And heaven the endearing name avowed. 
 
 (') From death, from earth, he raised his Son, 
 And gave him for his cross a throne ; 
 Triumphant there the sufferer reigns, 
 And reaps the harvest of his pains. 
 
1030 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 7 Ek rnal laptuies tlicre arc known ; 
 Nor flows the joy on him alone, 
 But for his sake tiie Lord hath swore, 
 To leave the meanest saint no more. 
 
 HYMN CXCIII. 
 The same. Matt, xxvii. 40. 
 
 1 My Saviour, didst thou die for me; 
 For me send forth that bitter cry ? 
 With bleeding heart thy wounds I see, 
 Prepared at thy command to die. 
 
 2 By all thine anguish on the cross. 
 When God thy Father stood afar, 
 Rich in thy temporary loss, 
 
 Thy church is brought for ever near. 
 
 3 From far the beamings of thy throne 
 Revived my sympathizing heart ; 
 
 Thy love made sinners' griefs thy own ; 
 Mine in thy joys must take its part. 
 
 4 Midst all the splendours of thy reign, 
 Think on the sorrows tliou hast felt; 
 Nor let a mourner weep in vain. 
 
 For whom thy precious blood was spilt. 
 
 5 While through earth's darkest gloom I tread, 
 Dart to my soul a cheering ray ; 
 
 And on the confines of the dead. 
 Thy power, as Lord of life, display. 
 
 HYMN CXCIV. 
 
 The angel's reply to the women that sowjht Christ. 
 Matt, xxvii. 5, 6. 
 
 1 Ye humble souls, that seek the Lord, 
 
 Chase all your fears away ; 
 And bow with pleasure down to see 
 The place where Jesus lay. 
 
 2 Thus low the Lord of life was brought ; 
 
 Such wonders love can do ; 
 Thus cold in death that bosom lay, 
 Whicli throbbed and bled for you. 
 
 3 A moment give a loose to grief ; 
 
 Let grateful sorrows rise, 
 And wasli the bloody stains away 
 With torrents from your eyes. 
 
 4 Then raise your eyes, and tune your songs, 
 
 The Saviour lives again, 
 Not all the bolts and bars of death 
 The Conqueror could detain. 
 
 6 High o'er the angelic bands he rears 
 
 His once dishonoured head ; 
 And through unnumbered years he reigns, 
 Who dwelt among the dead. 
 6 With joy like his shall every saint 
 His empty tomb survey ; 
 
 Then rise with his ascending Lord 
 Through all his shining way. 
 
 HYMN CXCV. 
 
 Christ ever present with his ministers and cJmrches. 
 Matt, xxviii. 20. 
 
 1 Wide o'er all worlds the Saviour reigns ; 
 Unmoved his power and love remains ; 
 
 And on his arm his church shall rest. 
 Fair Zion, joyful in her King, 
 Through every changing age shall sing, 
 
 With his perpetual presence blest. 
 
 2 Tyrannic death, in vain thy rage, 
 Thy triumphs new in every age, 
 
 O'er the first heroes of his host ; 
 Conscious of more than mortal aid, 
 Our bleeding hearts are not dismayed. 
 
 But an immortal Leader boast. 
 
 3 Though buried deep in dust they lie, 
 W hose tuneful voices raised on high 
 
 Led the sweet anthems to his name ; 
 The children learn the fathers' song, 
 And unformed tongues shall still prolong 
 
 The ever-present Saviour's fame. 
 
 4 The present Saviour, he shall give 
 Millions of future saints to live. 
 
 And crowd the temples of his grace : 
 The present Saviour, lo, he comes 
 To call whole legions from their tombs, 
 
 And teach their dust subliraer praise. 
 
 HYMN CXCVI. 
 
 Departed saints asleep. Mark v. 39. 
 
 1 " Why flow these torrents of distress?" 
 
 (The gentle Saviour cries ;) 
 " Why are my sleeping saints surveyed 
 With unbelieving eyes ? 
 
 2 " Death's feeble arm shall never boast 
 
 A friend of Christ is slain ; 
 Nor o'er their meaner part in dust 
 A lasting power retain. 
 
 3 " I come, on wings of love I come, 
 
 The slumberers to awake ; 
 My voice shall reach the deepest tomb. 
 And all its bonds shall break. 
 
 4 " Touched by my hand in smiles they rise, 
 
 They rise to sleep no more ; 
 But robed with light, and crowned with joy, 
 To endless day they soar." 
 
 5 .Jesus, our faith receives thy word ; 
 
 And, though fond nature weep, 
 Grace learns to hail the pious dead. 
 And emulate their sleep. 
 
MARK. 
 
 6 Our willing souls thy summons wait 
 With them to rest and praise ; 
 So let thy much-loved presence cheer 
 These separating days. 
 
 HYMN CXCVII. 
 
 The struggle between faith and unbelief. Mark ix. 24. 
 
 1 Jesus, our souls' delightful choice, 
 In thee believing we rejoice ; 
 
 Yet still our joy is mixed with grief. 
 While faith contends with unbelief. 
 
 2 Thy promises our hearts revive, 
 And keep our fainting hopes alive ; 
 But guilt, and fears, and sorrows rise. 
 And hide the promise from our eyes. 
 
 3 O let not sin and Satan boast, 
 While saints lie mourning in the dust ; 
 Nor see that faith to ruin brought, 
 
 Which thy own gracious hand hath wrought. 
 
 4 Do thou the dying spark inflame ; 
 Reveal the glories of thy name ; 
 And put all anxious doubts to flight, 
 As shades dispersed by opening light. 
 
 HYMN CXCVIII. 
 
 Christ's condescending regard to little children. 
 Mark x. 14. 
 
 1 See Israel's gentle Shepherd stand 
 
 With all-engaging charms ; 
 Hark how he calls the tender lambs, 
 And folds them in his arms ! 
 
 2 " Permit them to approach, (he cries,) 
 
 Nor scorn their humble name ; 
 For 'twas to bless such souls as these, 
 The Lord of angels came." 
 
 3 We bring them, Lord, in thankful hands, 
 
 And yield them up to thee : 
 Joyful, that we ourselves are thine; 
 Thine let our oflspring be. 
 
 4 Ye little flock, with pleasure hear ; 
 
 Ye children, seek his face ; 
 And fly with transports to receive 
 The blessings of his grace. 
 
 5 If orphans they are left behind. 
 
 Thy guardian care we trust: 
 That care shall heal our bleeding hearts, 
 If weeping o'er their dust. 
 
 HYMN CXCIX. 
 Christian watchfulness. Mark xiii. 37. 
 1 Awake, my drowsy soul, awake. 
 
 And view the threatening scene : | 
 
 LUKE. 1031 
 
 Legions of foes encamp around. 
 And treachery lurks within. 
 
 2 'Tis not this mortal life alone 
 
 These enemies assail ; 
 All thine eternal hopes are lost 
 If their attempts prevail. 
 
 3 Now to the work of God awake ; 
 
 Behold thy Master near ; 
 The various arduous task pursue 
 With vigour and with fear. 
 
 4 The awful register goes on. 
 
 The account will surely come. 
 And opening day, or closing night. 
 May bear me to my doom. 
 
 5 Tremendous thought ! how deep it strikes ! 
 
 Yet like a dream it flies, 
 Till God's own voice the slumbers chase 
 From these deluded eyes. 
 
 HYMN CC. 
 The nativity of Christ. Luke ii. 10, 12. 
 
 1 Hail, progeny * divine ! 
 Hail, virgin's wondrous son ! 
 Who, for that humble shrine. 
 Didst quit the Almighty's throne : 
 
 The infant Lord, 
 Our voices sing. 
 And be the King 
 Of grace adored. 
 
 2 Ye princes, disappear. 
 
 And boast your crowns no more ; 
 La3' down your sceptres here, 
 And in the dust adore : 
 
 Where Jesus dwells, 
 
 The manger bare 
 
 In lustre far 
 
 Your pomp excels. 
 
 3 With Bethlehem's shepherds mild 
 The angels bow their head ; 
 
 And round the sacred child 
 Their guardian wings they spread ; 
 
 They knew, that where 
 
 Their Sovereign lies, 
 
 In low disguise. 
 
 Heaven's court is there. 
 
 4 Thither, my soul, repair, 
 Aiul earthly homage pay 
 To thy Redeemer fair. 
 As on his natal f day ; 
 
 I kiss thy feet ; 
 And, Lord, would be 
 A child like thee, 
 Whom thus I greet. 
 
 • Oi&pring. t Birdi J.iy. 
 
1032 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN CCI. 
 
 The anycls' song at Christ's hirth. Luke ii. 13, 14. 
 
 1 High let us swell our tuneful notes. 
 
 Ami join the an<;clic tlirong- ; 
 For angels no sueli love have known 
 To awake a elieert'ul song. 
 
 2 Good-will to sinful men is shown, 
 
 And peaee on earth is given ; 
 For lo, the incarnate Saviour comes 
 With messages from heaven. 
 
 3 Justice and grace with sweet accord 
 
 His rising beams adorn ; 
 Let heaven and earth in concert join, 
 Now such a child is born. 
 
 4 Glory to God in highest strains 
 
 In highest worlds be paid ; 
 His glory hy our lips proclaimed, 
 And by our lives displayed. 
 
 5 When shall we reach those blissful realms, 
 
 Where Christ exalted reigns. 
 And learn of the celestial choir 
 Their own immortal strains? 
 
 HYMN ecu. 
 
 Himeon's song and declaration to the Virgin Mary. 
 Luke ii. 30—35. 
 
 1 Our eyes salvation sec. 
 Prepared by grace divine : 
 
 How wide its splendours are diffused ! 
 How bright its glories shine ! 
 
 2 Through distant heathen lands 
 It darts a vivid * ray. 
 
 And to the realms where Satan reigned 
 Imparts celestial day. 
 
 3 The Israel of the Lord 
 
 In Clirist their glory boast, 
 And on the honours of his name 
 Their whole salvation trust. 
 
 4 By him shall millions rise 
 To an immortal crown. 
 
 And millions, that his grace despise, 
 Shall sink in ruin down. 
 
 5 Our reckoning is begun. 
 And on the account will go. 
 
 Till closed in everlasting joy, 
 Or never-ending woe. 
 
 HYMN CCIII. 
 Christ's message. Luke iv. 18, 19. 
 
 1 Hark the glad sound ! the Saviour comes ! 
 The Saviour promised long ! 
 Let every heart prepare a throne. 
 And every voice a song. 
 
 ♦ Lively. 
 
 2 On him the Spirit largely poured. 
 
 Exerts its sacred fire ; 
 Wisdom and might, and zeal and love. 
 His holy breast inspire. 
 
 3 He comes the prisoners to release. 
 
 In Satan's bondage held ; 
 Tlie gates of brass before him burst. 
 The iron fetters yield. 
 
 4 He comes from thickest films of vice 
 
 To clear the mental ray. 
 And on the eye-balls of the blind. 
 To pour celestial day. 
 
 5 He comes the broken heart to bind, 
 
 The bleeding soul to cure, 
 And with the treasures of his grace 
 To enrich the humble poor. 
 
 6 His silver trumpets publish loud 
 
 The jubilee of the Lord ;t 
 Our debts are all remitted now. 
 Our heritage restored. 
 
 7 Our glad Hosannas, Prince of peace, 
 
 Thy welcome shall proclaim ; 
 And heaven's eternal arches ring 
 With thy beloved name. 
 
 HYMN CCIV. 
 
 The recovered demoniac, an emblem of a converted 
 sinner. Luke viii. 35. 
 
 1 Jesus, we own thy saving power. 
 
 And thy victorious hand ; 
 Hell's legions tremble at thy feet. 
 And fly at thy command. 
 
 2 O'er souls, by passion's uproar filled 
 
 With anarchy J unknown. 
 The nobler powers restored by thee, 
 Ascend their peaceful throne. 
 
 3 No more they rend their clothing off ; 
 
 No more their wounds repeat ; 
 But gentle and composed they wait 
 Attentive at thy feet. 
 
 4 O'er thousands more, where Satan rules, 
 
 May we such triumphs sec ; 
 And be their rescued souls and ours 
 Devoted, Lord, to thee. 
 
 HYMN CCV. 
 
 The good Samaritan. Luke x. 30 — 37. 
 
 1 Father of mercies, send thy grace, 
 All-powerful from above. 
 To form in our obedient souls 
 The image of thy love. 
 
 + The acceptable year of tlie Lord, i. e. the year of Jubilee, Lcvit. xxv. 
 i Confusion and disorder. 
 
LUKE. 
 
 1033 
 
 2 O may our sympathizing breasts 
 
 That generous pleasure know, 
 Kindly to share in others' joy, 
 And weep for others' woe ! 
 
 3 When the most helpless sons of grief 
 
 In low distress are laid, 
 Soft be our hearts their pains to feel. 
 And swift our hands to aid. 
 
 4 So Jesus looked on dying men, 
 
 When throned above the skies. 
 And 'midst the embraces of his God, 
 He felt eonipassion rise. 
 
 5 On wings of love the Saviour flew 
 
 To raise us from the ground. 
 And made the richest of his blood 
 A balm for every wound. 
 
 HYMN CCVI. 
 The care of the soul the one thiny needful. Luke x. 42. 
 
 1 Why will ye lavish out your years 
 Amidst a thousand trifling cares ? 
 While in this various range of thought 
 The one thing needful is forgot? 
 
 2 Why will ye chase the fleeting wind, 
 And famish an immortal mind ; 
 While angels with regret look down 
 To see you spurn a heavenly crown ? 
 
 3 The eternal God calls from above. 
 And Jesus pleads his bleeding love; 
 Awakened conscience gives you pain ; 
 And shall they join their pleas in vain ? 
 
 4 Not so your dying eyes shall view 
 Those objects, which you now pursue ; 
 Not so shall heaven and hell appear. 
 When the decisive hour is near. 
 
 5 Almighty God, thy power impart 
 To fix convictions on the heart ; 
 Thy power unveils the blindest eyes, 
 And makes the haughtiest scorner wise. 
 
 HYMN CCVII. 
 Mary's choice of the better part. Luke x. 42. 
 
 1 Beset with snares on every hand, 
 In life's uncertain path I stand : 
 Saviour divine, difluse thy light 
 
 To guide my doubtful footsteps right. 
 
 2 Engage this roving treacherous heart 
 To fix on Mary's better part ; 
 
 To scorn the trifles of a day 
 
 For joys that none can take away. 
 
 3 Then let the wildest storms arise ; 
 Let tempests mingle earth and skies ; 
 No fatal shipwreck shall I fear, 
 
 But all my treasures with me bear. 
 
 4 If thou, my Jesus, still be nigh. 
 Cheerful I live, and joyful die : 
 Secure, when mortal comforts flee. 
 To find ten thousand worlds in thee. 
 
 HYMN CCVIIL 
 
 Christ's little flock comforted with the views of a 
 hingdom. Luke xii. 32. 
 
 1 Ye little flock, whom Jesus feeds, 
 
 Dismiss your anxious cares ; 
 Look to the Shepherd of your souls. 
 And smile away your fears. 
 
 2 Though wolves and lions prowl around, 
 
 His staff" is your defence : 
 'Midst sands and rocks your Shepherd's voice 
 Calls streams and pastures thence. 
 
 3 Your Father will a kingdom give. 
 
 And give it with delight ; 
 His feeblest child his love shall call 
 To triumph in his sight. 
 
 4 Ten thousand praises. Lord, we bring 
 
 For sure supports like these : 
 And o'er the pious dead we sing 
 Thy living promises. 
 
 5 For all we hope, and they enjoy, 
 
 We bless a Saviour's name ; 
 Nor shall that stroke disturb the song. 
 Which breaks this mortal frame. 
 
 HYMN CCIX. 
 
 Providing hags that wax not old. Luke xii. 33. 
 
 1 These mortal joys, how soon they fade! 
 
 How swift they pass away ! 
 The dying flower reclines its head, 
 The beauty of a day ! 
 
 2 The bags are rent, the treasures lost, 
 
 We fondly called our own : 
 Scarce could we the possession boast, 
 And strait we found it gone. 
 
 3 But there are joys that cannot die, 
 
 Which God laid up in store ; 
 Treasure beyond the changing sky, 
 Brighter than golden ore. 
 
 4 To that my rising heart aspires. 
 
 Secure to find its rest, 
 And glories in such wide desires 
 Of all their wish possessed. 
 
 5 The seeds, which piety and love 
 
 Have scattered here below, 
 In the fair fertile fields above 
 To ample harvests grow. 
 
 6 The mite my willing hands can give, 
 
 At Jesus' feet I Lay ; 
 Grace shall the humble gift receive, 
 And heaven at large repay. 
 
1034 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN CCX. 
 The active Christian. Luke xii. 35 — 38. 
 
 1 Ye servants of the Lord, 
 Eacli in his olhce wait, 
 
 Observant of his heavenly word. 
 And watehful at his gate. 
 
 2 Let all your lamps be bright, 
 And trim tlie p;olden llanie ; 
 
 Gird up your loins, as in his sight, 
 For awful is his name. 
 
 3 Watch, 'tis your Lord's command ; 
 And while we speak, he 's near : 
 
 Mark the first signal of his hand, 
 And ready all appear. 
 
 4 O happy servant he 
 
 In such a posture found ! 
 He shall his Lord with rapture see, 
 And be with honour crowned. 
 
 5 Christ shall the banquet spread 
 With his own royal hand, 
 
 And raise that favourite servant's head 
 Amidst the angelic band. 
 
 HYMN CCXI. 
 Room at the yospel-feast. Luke xiv. 22. 
 
 1 The King of heaven his table spreads, 
 
 And dainties crown the board; 
 Not paradise with all its joys 
 Could such delight afford. 
 
 2 Pardon and peace to dying men. 
 
 And endless life are given, 
 And the rich blood that Jesus shed, 
 To raise the soul to heaven. 
 
 3 Ye hungry poor, that long have strayed 
 
 In sin's dark mazes, come : 
 Come from the hedges and highways, 
 And grace shall find you room. 
 
 4 Millions of souls, in glory now, 
 
 Were fed and feasted here ; 
 And millions more, still on the way. 
 Around the board appear. 
 .5 Yet is his house and heart so large. 
 That millions more may come ; 
 Nor could the wide assembling world 
 O'er-Cll the spacious room. 
 
 6 All things are ready ; come away, 
 
 Nor weak excuses frame ; 
 Crowd to your places at the feast, 
 And bless the founder's name. 
 
 HYMN CCXII. 
 The present and future state of the saint and sinner 
 compared. Luke xvi. 25. 
 1 In what confusion earth appears ! 
 God's dearest children bathed in tears ; 
 
 While they, who lieaven itself deride, 
 Riot in luxury and pride. 
 
 2 But patient let my soul attend, 
 And, ere I censure, view the end: 
 That end, how did'ercnt, who can tell ? 
 The wide extremes of heaven and hell. 
 
 3 See the red flames around him twine, 
 Who did in gold and purple shine ! 
 Nor can his tongue one drop obtain 
 To allay the scorcliing of his pain. 
 
 4 While round the saint, so poor below, 
 Full rivers of salvation flow : 
 
 On Abraham's breast he leans his head, 
 And banquets on celestial bread. 
 
 5 Jesus, my Saviour, let me share 
 The meanest of tliy servants' fare ; 
 May I at last approach to taste 
 The blessings of thy marriage-feast. 
 
 HYMN CCXIII. 
 Rebels against Christ executed. Luke xix. 27. 
 
 1 He comes ; the royal Conqueror comes ; 
 
 His legions fill the sky ; 
 Angelic trumpets rend the tombs, 
 And loud proclaim him nigh. 
 
 2 Ye rebel hosts, bow vain your rage 
 
 Against this sovereign Lord ! 
 Wliat madness bears you on to engage 
 The terrors of his sword? 
 
 3 " Bring forth (he cries) those sons of pride, 
 
 That scorned my gentle sway. 
 To prove the arm they once defied 
 Omnipotent to slay." 
 
 4 Tremendous scene of wrath divine; 
 
 How wide the vengeance spreads ! 
 His pointed darts of lightning shine 
 Round their defenceless heads. 
 
 5 Now let the rebels seek that face. 
 
 From which they cannot flee ! 
 And thou, ray soul, adore the grace 
 That sweetly conquered thee. 
 
 HYMN CCXIV. 
 
 The Redeemer's tears wept over lost souls. Luke 
 xix. 41, 42. 
 
 1 What venerable sight appears? 
 The Son of God dissolved in tears ! 
 Trace, O my soul, with sad surprise. 
 The sorrows of a Saviour's eyes. 
 
 2 For whom, blest Jesus, we would know, 
 Doth such a sacred torrent flow ? 
 What brother, or what friend of thine, 
 
 Is graced and mourned with drops divine ? 
 
LUKE. 
 
 1036 
 
 3 Nor brother, there, nor friend I see. 
 But sons of pride and cruelty ; 
 Who like rapacious tigers stood 
 Insatiate panting for thy blood. 
 
 4 Dear Lord, and did thy gushing eyes 
 Thus stream o'er dying enemies? 
 And can thy tenderness forget 
 
 The .sinner humbled at thy feet ? 
 
 5 With deep remorse our bowels move. 
 
 That we have wronged such matchless love ; 
 
 Thy gentle pity, Lord, display, 
 
 And smile these trembling fears away. 
 
 6 Give us to shine before thy face, 
 Eternal trophies of thy grace ; 
 
 Where songs of praise thy saints employ. 
 And mingle with a Saviour's joy. 
 
 HYMN CCXV. 
 Departed saints living to God. Luke xx. 38. 
 
 1 Thrice happy state, where saints shall live 
 
 Around their Father's throne. 
 In every joy, that heaven can give, 
 And live to God alone ! 
 
 2 Unnumbered bands of kindred minds, 
 
 That dwelt in feeble clay, 
 Us and our woes have left behind 
 To reign in endless day. 
 
 3 Immortal vigour now they breathe, 
 
 And all the air is peace ; 
 They chide our tears, that mourn the death, 
 Which brought their souls release. 
 
 4 Thus shall the grace of Christ prevail, 
 
 Till all his chosen meet ; 
 And not the meanest servant fail 
 His household to complete. 
 
 5 To that blest goal - with ardent haste 
 
 Our active souls would tend ; 
 Nor feel their sorrows, as they passed 
 To such a blissful end. 
 
 HYMN CCXVI. 
 
 Christ's admonition to, and care of, Peter under ap- 
 proaching trials. Luke xxii.31, 32. 
 
 1 How keen the tempter's malice is ! 
 
 How artful and how great! 
 Thougli not one grain shall be destroyed, 
 Yet will he sift the wheat. 
 
 2 But God can all his power control, 
 
 And gather in his chain ; 
 And, where he seems to triumph most, 
 The captive soul regain. 
 
 * The end of a race, where the prize was hnng. 
 
 3 There is a Shepherd kind and strong, 
 
 Still watchful for his sheep ; 
 Nor shall the infernal lion rend, 
 Whom he vouchsafes to keep. 
 
 4 Blest Jesus, intercede for us, 
 
 That we may fall no more ; 
 
 0 raise us, when we prostrate lie. 
 And comfort lost restore. 
 
 5 Thy secret energy impart, 
 
 That faith may never fail ; 
 But midst whole showers of fiery darts. 
 That tempered shield prevail. 
 
 6 Secured ourselves by grace divine. 
 
 We '11 guard our brethren too: 
 And, taught their frailty by our own, 
 Our care of them renew. 
 
 HYMN CCXVII. 
 Christ's prayer for his enemies. Luke xxiii. 34. 
 
 1 Aloud I sing the wondrous grace 
 
 Christ to his murderers bare ; 
 Which made the tottering cross its throne, 
 And hung its trophies there. 
 
 2 Father, forgive, his mercy cried 
 
 With his expiring breath. 
 And drew eternal blessings down 
 On those who wrought his death. 
 
 3 Then may I hope for pardon too, 
 
 Though I have pierced the Lord ; 
 Blest Jesus, in my favour speak 
 That all-prevailing word. 
 
 4 I knew not what my madness did. 
 
 While I remained thy foe : 
 Soon as I saw the wounds were thine, 
 My tears began to flow. 
 
 5 Melted by goodness so divine, 
 
 I would its footsteps trace ; 
 And, while beneath thy cross I stand, 
 My fiercest foes embrace. 
 
 HYMN CCXVIII. 
 The resurrection of Christ. Luke xxiv. 34. 
 
 1 Yks, tlie Redeemer rose. 
 The Saviour left the dead ; 
 And o'er our hellish foes 
 
 High raised his conquering head ; 
 In wild dismay 
 The guards around 
 Fell to the ground, 
 And sunk away. 
 
 2 Lo, the angelic bands 
 In full assembly meet, 
 
 To wait his high commands, 
 And worship at his feet: 
 
1036 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 Joyful tlicy come. 
 And wing their way 
 From realms of day 
 To such a tomb. 
 
 3 Then back to heaven they fly, 
 And the ghxd tidings bear; 
 Hark ! as they soar on high, 
 What music fills the air! 
 
 Their anthems say, 
 " Jesus who bled 
 Hath left the dead ; 
 He rose to-day." 
 
 4 Ye mortals, catch the sound. 
 Redeemed by him from hell ; 
 And send the echo round 
 
 The globe on which you dwell : 
 Transported cry, 
 " Jesus who bled 
 Hath left the dead ; 
 No more to die." 
 
 5 All hail, triumphant Lord, 
 Who savest us with thy blood ! 
 Wide be thy name adored, 
 Thou rising, reigning God ! 
 
 With thee we rise, 
 With thee we reign, 
 And empires gain 
 Beyond the skies. 
 
 HYMN CCXIX. 
 
 The gospel first preached at Jerusalem. Luke 
 xxiv. 47. 
 
 1 " Go, (saith the Lord,) proclaim my grace 
 To all the sons of Adam's race, 
 
 Pardon for every crimson sin, 
 And at Jerusalem begin. 
 
 2 " There, where my blood, not fully dry. 
 Stands warm upon mount Calvary : 
 That blood shall purge away their guilt. 
 By wtom so lately it was spilt. 
 
 3 " Now let the daring rebels turn. 
 
 And o'er their bleeding Sovereign mourn ; 
 Their bleeding Sovereign shall forgive. 
 And bid the rebels look and live." 
 
 4 Is this thy voice, all-gracious Lord ? 
 And did the rebels hear thy word ? 
 And did they fall beneath thy feet, 
 And on their knees forgiveness meet ? 
 
 5 Then may I hope for mercy too ; 
 Such love can my hard heart subdue, 
 And give tliis guilty soul a place. 
 Among these captives of thy grace. 
 
 6 Here be it daily mine employ 
 
 To bathe thy wounds with tears of joy, 
 
 Till 'midst the new Jerusalem 
 
 In one full choir wc sing thy name. 
 
 HYMN CCXX. 
 
 God's love to the world in sending Christ for its re- 
 demption. John iii. 16. 
 
 1 Sing to the Lord a new melodious song ; 
 Assist the choir, ye tribes of every tongue : 
 Wide as the world Iiis sovereign mercy reigns; 
 Wide as the world resound his rapturous strains. 
 
 Ye angels, join the joyful acclamation. 
 
 And sing the love that brings to men salvation. 
 
 2 His gracious eye beheld in full survey 
 Where Adam's race in mingled ruin lay : 
 No human aid the danger could avert ; 
 
 No angel's hand could soothe the raging smart: 
 In his own breast divine compassion rises. 
 And the grand scheme the court of heaven surprises. 
 
 3 God's only Son, with peerless* glories bright, 
 His Father's fairest image and delight, 
 Justice and grace the victim have decreed. 
 To wear our flesh, and in that flesh to bleed. 
 
 Prostrate in dust, ye sinners, all adore him. 
 
 And tremble, while your hearts rejoice before him. 
 
 4 The wondrous work is done ; the covenant stood. 
 And Jesus expiates human guilt with blood ; 
 Nailed to the tree he bows his sacred head ; 
 
 A mangled corpse he sojourns with the dead ; 
 Rising, the gospel sends through every nation : 
 Sinners believe, and gain complete salvation. 
 
 5 Father of grace, accept our humble praise ; 
 
 0 let it run through everlasting days ! 
 
 And thou, blest Saviour, spotless Lamb of God, 
 Accept the souls dear-ransomed with thy blood ; 
 And to those songs form all our feeble voices. 
 In which the choir round thy bright throne rejoices. 
 
 HYMN CCXXI. 
 
 The Spirit's influence compared to living water. 
 John iv. 10. 
 
 1 Blest Jesus, source of grace divine, 
 What soul-refreshing streams are thine ! 
 O bring these healing waters nigh. 
 
 Or we must droop, and fall, and die. 
 
 2 No traveller through desert lands, 
 'Midst scorching suns, and burning sands, 
 More eager longs for cooling rain, 
 
 Or pants the current to obtain. 
 
 3 Our longing souls aloud would sing. 
 Spring up, celestial fountain, spring; 
 To a redundant river How, 
 
 And cheer this thirsty land below. 
 
 • Unequalled 
 
JOHN. 
 
 1037 
 
 4 May this blest torrent near my side 
 Through all the desert gently glide ; 
 Then in Eraaniicl's land above 
 Spread to a sea of joy and love. 
 
 HYMN CCXXII. 
 The Christian's sacred feast. John iv. 32. 
 
 1 We praise the Lord, for heavenly bread, 
 With which immortal souls are fed : 
 We praise thee for that heavenly feast. 
 Which Jesus with delight could taste. 
 
 2 He, while he sojourned here below, 
 
 Had meat, which strangers could not know : 
 That meat he to his people gives, 
 And he that tastes the banquet lives. 
 
 3 So let me live, sustained by grace. 
 Regaled with fruits of righteousness : 
 Enter my heart, all-gracious Lord, 
 And sup with me, and deck thy board. 
 
 4 Devotion, faith, and zealous love, 
 And hope, that bears the soul above, 
 Be these my dainties, till I rise, 
 And taste the joys of paradise. 
 
 HYMN CCXXTII. 
 
 The paralytic ut Bethcsda. John v. 6. 
 
 1 Behold the great Physician stands, 
 
 Whose skill is ever sure ; 
 And loud he calls to dying men. 
 And free he offers cure. 
 
 2 And will ye hear his gracious voice, 
 
 While sore diseased yc lie ? 
 Or will ye all his grace despise, 
 And trifle till ye die ? 
 
 3 Blest Jesus, speak the healing word, 
 
 And inward vigour give : 
 Then, raised by energy divine, 
 Shall helpless mortals live. 
 
 4 With cheerful pace our trembling feet 
 
 In thy blest paths shall run. 
 Till Zion's healthful hill they gain. 
 Where no complaint is known. 
 
 HYMN CCXXIV. 
 
 God's purposes effectual, and Christ's invitation 
 sincere. John vi. 37. 
 
 1 Is there a sight in earth or heaven 
 
 Can such delight impart, 
 As Jesus' wide-extended arms 
 And softly-melting heart ? 
 
 2 " All that my heavenly Father gives 
 
 Shall come, (the Saviour cries,) 
 
 And every weakest soul, that comes, 
 Find favour in mine eyes. 
 
 3 " I 'II not reject him with disdain, 
 
 Nor hurl him down to hell ; 
 But folded in my kind embrace. 
 He safe and blest shall dwell." 
 
 4 Hearken, ye dying sinners all ; 
 
 All hasten, while yc hear ; 
 For crowds of wretched souls at once 
 May find their refuge there. 
 
 5 I hear thy voice, and I obey ; 
 
 Low at thy feet I fall ; 
 Nor shall the tempter's voice prevail 
 Against the Saviour's call. 
 
 HYMN CCXXV. 
 Christ's invitation to thirsty souls. John vii. 37. 
 
 1 The Lord of life exalted stands. 
 Aloud he cries, and spreads his hands ; 
 He calls ten thousand sinners round. 
 And sends a voice from every wound. 
 
 2 " Attend, ye thirsty souls, draw near, 
 And satiate all your wishes here : 
 Behold the living fountain flows 
 
 In streams as various as your woes. 
 
 3 " An ample pardon here I give. 
 And bid the sentenced rebel live. 
 Show him my Father's smiling face, 
 And lodge him in his dear embrace. 
 
 4 " I purge from sin's detested stain. 
 And make the crimson white again, 
 Lead to celestial joys refined, 
 
 And lasting as the deathless mind. 
 !i " Must I anew my pity prove ? 
 Witness the words of melting love, 
 The gushing tear, the labouring breath, 
 And all these scars of bleeding death." 
 
 6 Blest Saviour, I can doubt no more ; 
 I hear, and wonder, and adore : 
 Panting I seek that fountain-head, 
 Whence waters so divine proceed. 
 
 7 Clear spring of life, flow on, and roll 
 With growing swell from pole to pole, 
 Till flowers and fruits of paradise 
 Round all the winding current rise. 
 
 8 Still near thy stream may I be found. 
 Long as I tread this earthly ground ; 
 Cheer with thy wave death's gloomy shade. 
 Then through the fields of Canaan spread. 
 
 HYMN CCXXVI. 
 
 True liberty given by Christ. John viii. 3G. 
 
 I Hark ! for 'tis God's own Son that calls 
 To life and liberty ; 
 
1038 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 Transported fall before his feet. 
 Who makes the prisoners free. 
 
 2 The cursed bonds of sin he breaks, 
 
 And breaks old Satan's ehain : 
 Smiling he deals tiiose pardons rovind, 
 Whieh free from endless pain. 
 
 3 Into the eaptivc heart he pours 
 
 His Spirit from on high ; 
 We lose the terrors of the slave, 
 And Abba, Father, cry. 
 
 4 Shake off your bonds, and sing his grace ; 
 
 The sinner's friend proclaim; 
 And call on all around to seek 
 True freedom by his name. 
 
 5 Walk on at large, till you attain 
 
 Your Father's house above ! 
 There shall you wear immortal crowns. 
 And sing redeeming love. 
 
 HYMN CCXXVII. 
 The same. John viii. 36. 
 
 1 And shall we still be slaves. 
 And in our fetters lie. 
 
 When summoned by a voice divine 
 To assert our liberty. 
 
 2 Did the great Saviour bleed 
 Our freedom to obtain. 
 
 That we should trample on his blood. 
 And glory in our chain ? 
 
 3 Alas, the sordid mind ! 
 
 How all its powers are broke ! 
 Proud of a tyrant's haughty sway, 
 And practised to the yoke ! 
 
 4 Divine Redeemer, hear. 
 Thy sovereign power impart. 
 
 And let thy generous Spirit wake 
 True ardour in our heart. 
 
 5 Then shall the sons of death, 
 That in the dungeon lie. 
 
 Spring to the throne of pardoning grace, 
 And Abba, Father, cry. 
 
 HYMN CCXXVIII. 
 Christ the door. John x. 9. 
 
 1 Awake, our souls, and bless his name. 
 
 Whose mercies never fail ; 
 Who opens wide a door of hope 
 In Achor's gloomy vale.* 
 
 2 Behold the portal wide displayed, 
 
 The buildings strong and fair ; 
 Within are pastures fresh and green. 
 And living streams are there. 
 
 • Hosea ii. 1.V 
 
 3 Enter, my soul, with cheerful haste. 
 
 For Jesus is the door ; 
 Nor fear the serpent's wily arts, 
 Nor fear the lion's roar. 
 
 4 O may thy grace the nations lead. 
 
 And Jews and Gentiles come ; 
 All travelling through one beauteous gate, 
 To one eternal home. 
 
 HYMN CCXXIX. 
 Abundant life by Christ our Shepherd. John x. 10 
 
 1 Pkaise to our Shepherd's gracious name, 
 Who on so kind an errand came ; 
 Came, that by him his llock might live, 
 And more abundant life receive. 
 
 2 Hail, great Emanuel from above. 
 High seated on thy throne of love ! 
 O pour the vital torrent down. 
 
 Thy people's joy, their Lord's renown. 
 
 3 Scarce half alive we sigh and cry ; 
 Scarce raise to thee our languid eye ! 
 Kind Saviour, let our dying state 
 Compassion in thy heart create. 
 
 4 The Shepherd's blood the sheep must heal ; 
 O may we all its inlluence feel ; 
 
 Till inward deep experience show, 
 Christ can begin a heaven below. 
 
 HYMN CCXXX. 
 Christ's sheep described. John x. 27. 
 
 1 Thy flock, with what a tender care, 
 
 Blest Jesus, dosl thou keep ! 
 Fain would my weak, my wandering soul 
 Be numbered with thy sheep. 
 
 2 Gentle, and tractable, and plain 
 
 My heart would ever be. 
 Averse to harm, prepense to help, 
 And faithful still to thee. 
 
 3 The gentle accents of thy voice 
 
 My listening soul would hear ; 
 And, by the signals of thy will, 
 I all my course would steer. 
 
 4 I follow where my Shepherd leads. 
 
 And mark the path he drew ; 
 My Shepherd's feet mount Zion treads. 
 And I shall reach it too. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXI. 
 
 The happiness and security of Christ's sheep. 
 John XX. 28. 
 
 1 Mv soul, with joy attend, 
 While Jesus silence break.s ; 
 
JOHN. 
 
 1039 
 
 No angel's harp such music yields, 
 As what my Shepherd speaks. 
 
 J "I know my sheep, (he cries,) 
 My soul approves them well : 
 Vain is the treacherous world's disguise, 
 And vain the rage of hell. 
 
 i " I freely feed them now 
 With tokens of my love. 
 But richer pastures I prepare, 
 And sweeter streams above. 
 
 I " Unnumbered years of bliss 
 I to my sheep will give ; 
 And, while my throne unshaken stands, 
 Shall all my chosen live. 
 
 > " This tried almighty hand 
 Is raised for their defence ; 
 Where is the power shall reach them there ? 
 Or what shall force them thence V 
 
 i Enough, my gracious Lord, 
 Let faith triumphant cry ; 
 My heart can on this promise live, 
 Can on this promise die. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXII. 
 
 Ohrist's sheep given by the Father, and (juarded by 
 Omnipotence. John x. 29, 30. 
 
 1 In one harmonious cheerful song. 
 
 Ye happy saints, combine; 
 Loud let it sound from every tongue, 
 The Saviour is divine. 
 
 2 The least, the feeblest of the sheep 
 
 To him the Father gave ; 
 Kind is his heart the charge to keep, 
 And strong his arm to save. 
 
 3 In Christ the Almighty Father dwells, 
 
 And Christ and he are one ; 
 The rebel power which Christ assails, 
 Attacks the eternal throne. 
 
 4 That hand, which heaven and earth sustains, 
 
 And bars the gates of hell, 
 And rivets Satan down in chains. 
 Shall guard his chosen well. 
 
 6 Now let the infernal lion roar, 
 How vain his threats appear ! 
 When he can match Jehovah's power, 
 I will begin to fear. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXin. 
 
 The attractive influence of a crucified Saviour. 
 John xii. 32. 
 
 1 Behold the amazing sight, 
 The Saviour lifted high ! 
 
 Behold the Son of God's delight 
 Expire in agony ! 
 
 2 For whom, for whom, my heart, 
 Were all these sorrows borne ? 
 
 Why did he feel that piercing smart, 
 And meet that various scorn ? 
 
 3 For love of us he bled. 
 And all in torture died ; 
 
 'Twas love that bowed his fainting head, 
 And oped his gushing side. 
 
 4 I see, and I adore 
 
 In sympathy of love ! 
 I feel the strong attractive power 
 To lift my soul above. 
 
 5 Drawn by such cords as these. 
 Let all the earth combine 
 
 With cheerful ardour to confess 
 The energy divine. 
 
 6 In thee our hearts unite, 
 Nor share thy griefs alone. 
 
 But from thy cross pursue their flight 
 To thy triumphant throne. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXIV. 
 
 Christ's mysterious conduct to be unfolded hereafter. 
 John xiii. 7. 
 
 1 Jesus, we own thy sovereign hand. 
 
 Thy faithful care we own ; 
 Wisdom and love are all thy ways, 
 When most to us unknown. 
 
 2 By thee the springs of life were formed, 
 
 And by thy breath are broke. 
 And good is every awful word 
 Our gracious Lord hath spoke. 
 
 3 To thee we yield our comforts up. 
 
 To thee our lives resign ; 
 In straits and dangers rich and safe, 
 If we and ours are thine. 
 
 4 Thy saints in earlier life removed, 
 
 In sweeter accents sing ; 
 And bless the swiftness of their flight. 
 That bore them to their King. 
 
 5 The burthens of a lengthened day 
 
 With patience we would bear ; 
 Till evening's welcome hour shall show 
 We were our Master's care. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXV. 
 
 Christ's pity and consolation for his troubled disciples, 
 John xiv. 1 — 3. 
 
 1 Peace, all ye sorrows of the heart. 
 And all my tears, be dry : 
 That Christian ne'er can be forlorn, 
 That views his Jesus nigh. 
 
1040 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 2 " Let not your bosoms throb, (lie says,) 
 
 Nor be your souls afraid ! 
 Trust in your God's almighty name, 
 And trust your Saviour's aid. 
 
 3 " Fair mansions in my Father's house 
 
 l'^)r all his rhildren wait ; 
 And 1, your elder brother, go 
 To open wide the gate. 
 
 4 " And if I thither go before, 
 
 A dwelling to prepare, 
 I surely shall return again. 
 That I may fix you there. 
 
 5 " United in eternal love. 
 
 My chosen shall remain. 
 And with rejoicing hearts shall share 
 The honours of my reign." 
 
 6 Yes, Lord ; thy gracious words we hear, 
 
 And cordial joys they bring : 
 Frail nature may extort a groan, 
 But faith shall learn to sing. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXVI. 
 
 The Christian's life connected with that of Christ. 
 John xiv. 19. 
 
 1 The covenant of a Saviour's love 
 
 Shall stand for ever good, 
 And thus his life shall guard the souls 
 He purchased with his blood. 
 
 2 " I live for ever, (saitli the Lord,) 
 
 And you shall therefore live ; 
 Receive with pleasure every pledge 
 My power and love can give." 
 
 3 We own the promise, Prince of grace ; 
 
 Though earthly helpers die; 
 And animate our fainting hearts. 
 While Christ our friend is nigh. 
 
 4 The king of fears can do no more 
 
 Than stop our mortal breath ; 
 But Jesus gives a nobler life, 
 That cannot yield to death. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXVII. 
 
 Ahidiny in Christ necessary to our fruitfulness. 
 John XV. 4. 
 
 1 Lord of the vineyard, we adore 
 
 That power and grace divine. 
 Which plants our wild, our barren souls 
 In Christ the living vine. 
 
 2 For ever may they there abide, 
 
 And, from that vital root, 
 Be influence spread through every branch, 
 To form and feed the fruit. 
 
 ;} Shine forth, my God, the clusters warm 
 With rays of sacred love ; 
 Till Ivden's soil, and Zion's streams 
 The generous plant improve. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXVin. 
 
 Our prayers effectual when we abide in Christ, and 
 his word abideth in ns. John xv. 8. 
 
 1 Hail, gracious Saviour, all divine ! 
 Mysterious ever-living vine ! 
 
 To thee united may we live. 
 
 And nourished by thine influence thrive. 
 
 2 Still may our souls in thee abide, 
 Torn by no tempests from thy side ; 
 Nor from its place within our heart 
 Thy promise or thy law depart. 
 
 3 Then shall our prayers accepted rise, 
 Tiirough thee a grateful sacrifice ; 
 And all our sighs before thy throne 
 Descend in ample blessings down. 
 
 4 In silent hope our souls shall wait 
 Their pension from thy mercy's gate ; 
 Nor can our lips or hearts express 
 
 A wish proportioned to thy grace. 
 
 HYMN CCXXXIX. 
 
 Continuing in Christ's love. John xv. 9. 
 
 1 To all his flock, what wondrous love 
 
 Doth our kind Shepherd bear ! 
 As he to his great Father's heart. 
 So we to his are dear. 
 
 2 So sure, so constant, and so strong 
 
 Do his endearments prove : 
 O may their energy prevail 
 To fix us in his love. 
 
 3 No more let my divided heart 
 
 From this blest centre turn : 
 But fired by such all-potent rays, 
 With flames immortal burn. 
 
 4 Descend, and all thy power display, 
 
 And all thy love reveal ; 
 That the warm streams of Jesus' blood 
 This frozen heart may feel. 
 
 HYMN CCXL. 
 
 The apostles and Christians chosen by Christ to bring 
 forth permanent fruit. John xv. 16. 
 
 1 I OWN, my God, thy sovereign grace. 
 
 And bring the praise to thee ; 
 If thou my chosen portion art, 
 Thou first hast chosen me. 
 
 2 My gracious Counsellor and Guide 
 
 Will hear me when I pray ; 
 
JOHN. 
 
 1041 
 
 Nor, wbile I urge a Saviour's name, 
 Will frown my soul away. 
 
 3 Blest Jesus, animate my heart 
 
 Witli beams of heavenly love, 
 And teach that cold unthankful soil 
 The heavenly seed to improve. 
 
 4 In copious showers thy Spirit send 
 
 To water all the ground ; 
 So to the honour of thy name 
 Shall lasting fruit be found. 
 
 HYMN CCXLI. 
 Peace in Christ amidst tribulations. John xvi. 33. 
 
 1 Henceforth let each believing heart 
 
 From anxious sorrows cease : 
 Though storms of trouble rage around, 
 In Jesus we have peace. 
 
 2 His blood from wrath to come redeems. 
 
 And his almighty grace. 
 By bitterest draughts of deep distress. 
 Its healing power displays. 
 
 3 Jesus, our Captain, marched before 
 
 To lead us to the fight ; 
 And now he rcachcth out the cown 
 With heavenly glories bright. 
 
 4 Lord, 'tis enough ; thy voice we hear ; 
 
 That crown by faith we see : 
 No sorrows shall o'erwhclm our souls, 
 Since none divide from thee. 
 
 HYMN CCXLII. 
 
 Christ sanctifying himself, that his people may be 
 sanctified. John xvii. 19. 
 
 1 Behold the bleeding Lamb of God, 
 
 Our spotless sacrifice ! 
 By hands of barbarous sinners seized, 
 Nailed to the cross, he dies. 
 
 2 Blest Jesus, whence this streaming blood ? 
 
 And whence this foul disgrace? 
 Whence all these pointed thorns, that rend 
 Thy venerable face ? 
 
 3 ' I sanctify myself, (he cries,) 
 
 That thou mayst holy be ; 
 Come, trace my life ; come, view niy death. 
 And learn to copy me." 
 
 4 Dear Lord, we pant for holiness. 
 
 And inbred sin we mourn : 
 
 iTo the bright path of thy commands 
 Our wandering footsteps turn. 
 .O Not more sincerely would we wish 
 To climb the heavenly hill, 
 Than here, with all our utmost power, 
 Thy model to fulfil. 
 
 HYMN CCXLIII. 
 
 Meditations on the sepulchre in the garden. John 
 xix. 41. 
 
 1 The sepulchres, how thick they stand 
 Through all the road on either hand ! 
 And burst upon the starting sight 
 
 In every garden of delight ! 
 
 2 Thither the winding alleys tend ; 
 There all the flowery borders end ; 
 And forms that charmed the eyes before. 
 Fragrance and music are no more. 
 
 3 Deep in that damp and silent cell 
 My fathers and my brethren dwell ; 
 Beneath its broad and gloomy shade 
 My kindred and my friends are laid : 
 
 4 But, while I tread the solemn way. 
 My faith that Saviour would survey, 
 Who deigned to sojourn in the tomb, 
 And left behind a rich perfume. 
 
 5 My thoughts with ecstasy unknown, 
 While from his grave they view his throne. 
 Through my own sepulchre can see 
 
 A paradise reserved for me. 
 
 HYMN CCXLIV. 
 
 Christ ascending to his Father and God, arid ours. 
 John XX. 17. 
 
 1 In raptures let our hearts ascend 
 
 Our heavenly seats to view. 
 And grateful trace that .shining path 
 Our rising Saviour drew. 
 
 2 " Up to my Father, and my God, 
 
 I go ; (the Conqueror cries ;) 
 Up to your Father, and your God, 
 My brethren, lift your eyes." 
 
 3 And doth tlic Lord of glory call 
 
 Such worms his brethren dear ? 
 And doth he point to heaven's high throne, 
 And show our Father there ? 
 
 4 And doth he teach my sinful lips 
 
 That tuneful sound, my God? 
 And breathe his Spirit on my heart 
 To shed his grace abroad? 
 
 5 O world, produce a good like this, 
 
 And thou shalt have my love : 
 Till then, my Father claims it all, 
 And Christ, who dwells above. 
 
 6 Dear Jesus, call this willing soul. 
 
 That struggles with its clay, 
 And fain would leave this weary lojid. 
 To wing its airy way. 
 
1042 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN CCXLV. 
 
 T/ie disciples' joi/ at Christ's appearance to them after 
 his resurrection. John xx. 19, 20. 
 
 1 Come, our indulgent Saviour, come, 
 Illustrious Conqueror o'er the tomb : 
 Here thine assembled servants bless, 
 And (ill our hearts with sacred peace. 
 
 2 O conic thyself, most gracious Lord, 
 Witli all the joy thy smiles alford ; 
 Reveal the lustre of thy face. 
 
 And make us feel thy vital grace. 
 
 3 With rapture kneeling round we greet 
 Tliy pierced hands, thy wounded feet ; 
 And from the scar, that marks thy side, 
 We see our life's warm torrent glide. 
 
 4 Enter our hearts, Redeemer blest ; 
 Enter, thou ever-honoured guest, 
 Not for one transient hour alone, 
 But there to fix thy lasting throne. 
 
 5 Own this mean dwelling as thy home ; 
 And, when our life's last hour is come, 
 Let us but die, as in thy sight, 
 
 And death shall vanish in delight. 
 
 HYMN CCXLVI. 
 
 Appeal to Christ for sincerity of love to him. 
 John xxi. 15. 
 
 1 Do not I love thee, O my Lord ? 
 
 Behold my heart and see ; 
 And turn each cursed idol out, 
 That dares to rival thee. 
 
 2 Do not I love thee from my soul ? 
 
 Then let me nothing love ; 
 Dead be my heart to every joy, 
 When Jesus cannot move. 
 
 3 Is not thy name melodious still 
 
 To mine attentive ear ; 
 Dotli not each pulse with pleasure bound 
 My Saviour's \:oice to hear ? 
 
 4 Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock, 
 
 I would disdain to feed ? 
 Hast thou a foe, before whose face 
 I fear thy cause to plead ? 
 
 5 Would not mine ardent spirit vie * 
 
 With angels round the throne, 
 To execute thy sacred will, 
 And make thy glory known? 
 
 G Would not my heart pour forth its blood 
 In honour of thy name ? 
 And challenge the cold hand of death 
 To damp the immortal flame. 
 
 • Endeavour to equal. 
 
 7 Thou knowest I love thee, dearest Lord ; 
 But O ! I long to soar 
 Far from the sphere of mortal joys, 
 And learn to love thee more. 
 
 HYMN CCXLVII. 
 
 Zeal for the cause of Christ ; or, Peter and John 
 followiiiff their Master. John xxi. 11 — 20-1 
 
 1 Blest men, who stretch their willing hands, 
 Submissive to tlicir Lord's commands. 
 And yield their liberty and breath 
 
 To him, that loved their souls in death ! 
 
 2 Lead me to sufl'er, and to die. 
 
 If thou, my gracious Lord, art nigh : 
 One smile from thee my heart shall fire, 
 And teach me smiling to expire. 
 
 3 If nature at the trial shake. 
 
 And from the cross or flames draw back, 
 Grace can its feeble courage raise, 
 And turn its tremblings into praise. 
 
 4 While scarce I dare, with Peter, say, 
 " I'll boldly tread the bleeding way ;" 
 Yet in thy steps, like John, I'd move 
 With bumble hope, and silent love. 
 
 HYMN CCXLVIIL 
 
 Christ exalted to be a Prince and a Saviour. 
 Acts v. 31. 
 
 1 Exalted Prince of life, we own 
 The royal honours of thy throne : 
 'Tis fixed by God's alniiglity hand. 
 And seraphs bow at thy command. 
 
 2 Exalted Saviour, we confess 
 
 The sovereign triumphs of thy grace; 
 Where beams of gentle radiance shine, 
 And temper majesty divine. 
 
 3 Wide thy resistless sceptre sway. 
 Till all thine enemies obey : 
 
 Wide may thy cross its virtue prove, 
 And conquer millions by its love. 
 
 4 Mighty to vanquish, and forgive ! 
 Thine Israel shall repent and live ; 
 And loud proclaim thy healing breath. 
 Which works their life, who wrought thy death. 
 
 HYMN CCXLIX. 
 
 The believer committing his departing spirit to Jesus 
 Acts vii. CjG. 
 
 1 O THOU, that hast redemption wrought. 
 Patron of souls, thy blood hath bought, 
 To thee our spirits we commit. 
 Mighty to rescue from the pit. 
 
 + See Family Expositor in lor. 
 
ACTS. 
 
 1043 
 
 2 Millions of blissful souls above, 
 In realms of purity and love. 
 
 With songs of endless praise proclaim 
 The honours of thy faithful name. 
 
 3 When all the powers of nature failed, 
 Thy ever constant care prevailed ; 
 Courage and joy thy friendship spoke, 
 When every mortal bond was broke. 
 
 4 We on that friendship, Lord, repose, 
 The healing balm of all our woes ; 
 And we, when sinking in the grave, 
 Trust thine omnipotence to save. 
 
 5 O may our spirits by thy hand 
 Be gathered to that happy band. 
 Who 'midst the blessings of thy reign. 
 Lose all remembrance of their pain. 
 
 6 In raptures there divinely sweet 
 Give us our kindred souls to meet. 
 And wait with them that brighter day, 
 Which all thy triumph shall display. 
 
 HYMN CCL. 
 
 Peter's admonition to Simon Magus. Acts viii. 
 21—24. 
 
 1 Searcher of hearts, before thy face 
 
 I all my soul display ; 
 And, conscious of its innate* arts, 
 Entreat thy strict survey. 
 
 2 If lurking in its inmost folds, 
 
 I any sin conceal, 
 O let a ray of light divine 
 The secret guile reveal. 
 
 3 If tinctured with that odious gall 
 
 Unknowing I remain, 
 Let grace, like a pure silver stream, 
 Wash out the accursed stain. 
 
 4 If in these fatal fetters bound, 
 
 A wretched slave I lie, 
 Smite off my chains, and wake my soul 
 To light and liberty. 
 
 5 To humble penitence and prayer 
 
 Be gentle pity given ; 
 Speak ample pardon to my heart, 
 And seal its claim to heaven. 
 
 HYMN CCLI. 
 
 The descent of the Spirit ; or, his influences desired. 
 Acts X. 44. 
 
 1 Great Father of each perfect gift, 
 Behold thy servants wait ; 
 With longing eyes and lifted hands, 
 We flock around thy gate. 
 
 » Natural. 
 3x2 
 
 2 O shed abroad that royal gift, 
 
 Thy Spirit from above. 
 To bless our eyes with sacred light, 
 And fire our hearts with love. 
 
 3 With speedy flight may he descend, 
 
 And solid comfort bring, 
 And o'er our languid souls extend 
 His all-reviving wing. 
 
 4 Blest earnest of eternal joy, 
 
 Declare our sins forgiven ; 
 And bear with energy divine 
 
 Our raptured thoughts to heaven. 
 
 5 Diffuse, O God, those copious showers. 
 
 That earth its fruit may yield. 
 And change this barren wilderness 
 To Carmel's flowery field.f 
 
 HYMN CCLII. 
 The word of salvation sent to us. Acts xiii. 26. 
 
 1 And why do our admiring eyes 
 
 These gospel-glories see ? 
 And whence, doth every heart reply, 
 Salvation sent to me ? 
 
 2 In fatal shades of midnight gloom 
 
 Ten thousand wretches stray ; 
 And Satan blinds ten thousand more 
 Amidst the blaze of day. 
 
 3 Millions of raging souls beneath, 
 
 In endless anguish hear 
 Harmonious sounds of grace transformed 
 To echoes of despair. 
 
 4 And dost thou, Lord, subdue my heart. 
 
 And show ray sins forgiven, 
 And bear thy witness to my part 
 Amongst the heirs of heaven ? 
 
 5 As the redeemed of the Lord, 
 
 We sing the Saviour's name ; 
 And, while the long salvation lasts, 
 Its sovereign grace proclaim. 
 
 HYMN CCLIII. 
 
 The unknown God. Acts xvii. 23. 
 
 1 Thoi', mighty Lord, art God alone, 
 A King of majesty unknown ; 
 And all thy dazzling glories rise 
 Beyond the reach of angels' eyes. 
 
 2 Yet through this earth thy works proclaim 
 Some notice of thy reverend name ; 
 
 And, where thy gracious gospel shines, 
 We read it in the fairest lines. 
 
 3 But O ! how few of Adam's race 
 Have learned thy nature and thy ways .' 
 
 t Isa. XXXV. I, 2. 
 
1014 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 \N liilo lliousaiuls, c'oii in lands of light, 
 Vio liiiiicil ill i:gj'i)tiaii night. 
 
 4 Tliov tread thy courts, thy word Ihcy hear, 
 And to thy solemn rites draw near ; 
 
 Yet, llioiig'h salvation seems so lu^h. 
 Because they know not God, they die. 
 
 5 Send thy victorious gospel forth, 
 Wide from these regions of the north ; 
 And through thy churclies grace impart 
 To write thy name on every heart. 
 
 HYMN CCLIV. 
 
 fiod's command to all men to repent. Acts xvii. 80. 
 
 1 Repent, the voice celestial cries, 
 No longer dare delay : 
 The wretch that scorns the mandate* dies. 
 And meets a fiery day. 
 
 '2 No more the sovereign eye of God 
 O'erlooks the crimes of men ; 
 His heralds are despatched abroad 
 To warn the world of sin. 
 
 3 The summons reach through al! the earth ; 
 
 Let earth attend and fear : 
 Listen, ye men of royal birth, 
 And let their vassals f hear. 
 
 4 Together in his presence bow. 
 
 And all your guilt confess ; 
 Accept the oflered Saviour now. 
 Nor trifle m ith the grace. 
 
 5 Bow, ere the awful trumpet sound, 
 
 And call you to his bar : 
 For mercy knows the appointed bound. 
 And turns to vengeance there. 
 
 0 Amazing love, that yet wiJl call, 
 
 And yet prolong our days! 
 Our hearts subdued by goodness fall. 
 And weep, and love, and praise. 
 
 HYMN CCLV. 
 
 Paul's solicitude to Jinisk his course with joy. Acls 
 XX. 24. 
 
 1 Assist us. Lord, thy name to praise 
 For this rich gospel of thy grace ; 
 And, that our hearts may love it more. 
 Teach them to feel its vital power. 
 
 2 With joy may we our course pursue. 
 And keep the crown of life in view ; 
 That crown, \^hich in one hour repays 
 The labour of ten thousand days. 
 
 3 Should bonds or death obstruct our way, 
 Unmoved their terrors we '11 survey ; 
 
 And the last hour improve for thcc. 
 The last of life or liberty. 
 
 4 Welcome those bonds, which may unite 
 Our souls to their supreme delight ! 
 ^^'clcome that death, whose painful strife 
 Bears us to Christ, our better life ! 
 
 HYMN CCLVI. 
 
 Paul preaching and Felix trembling. Acis xxiv. 25. 
 
 1 Great Sovereign of the human heart, 
 Thy mighty energy impart, 
 
 Which darts at once through breasts of steel. 
 And makes the nether millstone | feel. 
 
 2 Let sinners tremble at thy word, 
 Struck by the terrors of the Lord ; 
 And, while they tremble, let tlicm fltc. 
 And seek their help, their life, from thee. 
 
 3 O let them seize the present day. 
 Nor risk salvation by delay ; 
 To-morrow, Lord, to thee belongs ; 
 This night may vindicate thy wrongs. 
 
 4 This night may stop their fleeting breath, 
 And seal them to eternal death. 
 
 May veil redemption from their sight. 
 And give them flames instead of light. 
 
 5 Or should succeeding years remain, 
 Years, with their sabbaths, all in vain 
 Before their darkened eyes may roll, 
 And more obdurate leave the soul. 
 
 6 Great Saviour, let thy pity rise. 
 And make the wretched triders wise ; 
 Lest pangs and tremblings felt in vain, 
 Hasten and feed itnraoital pain. 
 
 HYMN CCLVIL 
 Help obtained of God. Acts xxvi. 22. 
 
 For New-year's Day. 
 
 1 Great God, w(i sing that naighty hand 
 By which supported still we stand : 
 The opening year thy mercy shows ; 
 That mercy crowns it, till it close. 
 
 2 By day, by night, at home, abroad. 
 Still are we guarded by our God ; 
 By his incessant bounty fed, 
 
 By his unerring counsel led. 
 
 3 With grateful hearts the past we own ; 
 The future, all to us unknown, 
 
 Wc to thy guardian care commit. 
 And peaceful leave before thy feet. 
 
 4 In scenes exalted or depressed, 
 Thou art our joy, and thou our rest ; 
 
 * C'lmniaiid. 
 
 + Suiijrcls and slaves. 
 
 i The Inrdcstlieaits. Job xli. 21. 
 
ROMANS. 
 
 1045 
 
 Tliy goodness all our hopes sliali raise, 
 Adored through all our changing days. 
 5 When death shall interrupt these songs, 
 And seal in silence mortal tongues, 
 Our helper God, in whom we trust, 
 In better worlds our souls shall boast. 
 
 HYMN CCLVIII. 
 Treasuring up icrat/i by despising mercy. Rom. 
 ii. 4, 5. 
 
 1 Ungrateful sinners, whence this scorn 
 
 Of long-extended grace ? 
 And whence this madness, that insults 
 The Almighty to his face ? 
 
 2 Is it because his patience waits, 
 
 And pitying bowels move. 
 You multiply audacious crimes, 
 And spurn his richest love ? 
 
 3 Is all the treasured wrath so small, 
 
 You labour still for more. 
 Though not eternal rolling years 
 Can e'er exhaust the store ? 
 
 4 Swift doth the day of vengeance come. 
 
 That must your sentence seal ; 
 And rigliteous judgment now unknown 
 In all its pomp reveal. 
 
 5 Alarmed and melted at thy voice. 
 
 Our conquered hearts would bow ; 
 And, to escape the thunderer then, 
 Embrace the Saviour now. 
 
 HYMN CCLIX. 
 
 The love of God shed abroad in the heart by the 
 Spirit. Rom. v. 5. 
 
 1 Descend, immortal Dove; 
 Spread thy kind wings abroad. 
 
 And, wrapt in flames of holy love, 
 Bear all my soul to God. 
 
 2 .Jesus, my Lord, reveal 
 
 In charms of grace divine. 
 And be thyself the sacred seal, 
 That pearl of price is mine. 
 
 3 Behold my heart expands 
 To catch the heavenly fire ; 
 
 It longs to feel the gentle bands, 
 And groans with strong desire. 
 
 4 Thy love, my God, appears, 
 And brings salvation down. 
 
 My cordial through this vale of tears. 
 In paradise my crown. 
 
 HYMN CCLX. 
 Christians quickened and raised by the Spirit. Rom. 
 viii. 11. 
 
 1 Why should our mourning thoughts delight 
 To grovel in the dust ? 
 
 Oi wliy should streams of tears unite 
 Around the expiring just f 
 
 2 Did not the Lord our Saviour die, 
 
 And triumph o'er the grave ? 
 Did not our Lord ascend on high, 
 And prove his power to save .' 
 
 3 Doth not the sacred Spirit come, 
 
 And dw ell in all the saints f 
 And should the temples of his grace 
 Resound with long complaints ? 
 
 4 Awake, my soul, and like the sun 
 
 Burst through each sable cloud ; 
 And thou, my voice, though broke witii sighs, 
 Tune forth thy songs aloud. 
 
 5 The Spirit raised my Saviour up, 
 
 When he had bled for me ; 
 And spite of death and hell shall raise 
 
 Thy pious friends and thee. 
 G Awake, ye saints, that dwell in dust. 
 
 Your hymns of victory sing ; 
 And let his dying servants trust 
 
 Their ever-living King. 
 
 HYMN CCLXI. 
 
 God's readiness to give all things argued from the 
 gift of his Son. Rom. viii. 32. 
 
 1 Now let my soul with transport rise. 
 
 And range through earth, and mount the skies. 
 And view each various form of good. 
 Where angels hold their high abode. 
 
 2 I give my thoughts unbounded scope ; 
 On equal pinions soars ray hope ; 
 My faith at noblest objects aims. 
 And what she sees she humbly claims. 
 
 3 Hath not the bounteous King of heaven 
 From his embrace already given 
 
 That Son of his eternal love. 
 
 Who filled the brightest throne above ; 
 t Behold his hand on Jesus laid ! 
 
 Behold that Lamb a victim made ! 
 
 And what shall mercy hold too good 
 
 For sinners, ransomed w ith his l^lood .' 
 .J My soul, with heavenly faith embrace 
 
 The sacred covenant of his grace ; 
 
 Then in delightful silence wait 
 
 The issues of a love so great. 
 
 HYMN CCLXII. 
 
 Believing with the heart, and confessing with the 
 mouth, necessary to salvation. Rom. x. 6 — 10. 
 
 1 And is salvation brought so near. 
 Where sinful men expiring lie ? 
 Triumph, my soul, the sound to hear, 
 And shout it joyous to the sky. 
 
10 If; 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 ■2 1 ask. nol, who to heaven shall scale, 
 
 That Cliiist the Saviour thence may come ; 
 Or who earth's inmost depths assail, 
 To bring him from tlie dreary tomb. 
 
 3 From heaven on wings of love he flew, 
 And conijueror from the tomb he sprung ; 
 My heart believes the witness true. 
 
 And dictates to my faithful tongue. 
 
 4 I sing salvation brought so near, 
 No more on earth expiring lie ; 
 
 I teach the world my joys to liear. 
 And shout them to the echoing sky. 
 
 HYMN CCLXIII. 
 The living sacrijice. Rom. xii. 1. 
 
 1 And will the eternal King 
 So mean a gift reward ? 
 
 That offering. Lord, with joy we bring, 
 Which thy own hand prepared. 
 
 2 We own thy various claim, 
 And to thine altar move. 
 
 The willing victims of tliy grace. 
 And bound with cords of love. 
 
 3 Descend celestial fire. 
 The sacrifice inflame ; 
 
 So shall a grateful odour rise. 
 Through our Redeemer's name. 
 
 HYMN CCLXIV. 
 
 T/ie near apjiroach of salvation, an engayement to 
 diligence and love. Rom. xiii. 11. 
 
 1 Awake, ye saints, and raise your eyes. 
 
 And raise your voices high ; 
 Awake, and praise that sovereign love. 
 That shows salvation nigh. 
 
 2 On all the wings of time it Hies, 
 
 Each moment brings it near ; 
 Then welcome each declining day ! 
 Welcome each closing year ! 
 
 3 Not many years their rounds shall run. 
 
 Nor many mornings rise, 
 Ere all its glories stand revealed 
 To our admiring eyes. 
 
 4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course ; 
 
 Ye mortal powers, decay ; 
 Fast as ye bring the night of death. 
 Ye bring eternal day. 
 
 HYMN CCLXV. 
 
 The God of peace bruising Satan. Rom. xvi. 20. 
 
 1 Ye armies of the living God, 
 In his all-conquering name, 
 
 Lift up your banners, and aloud 
 Y'our Leader's grace proclaim. 
 
 2 What though the prince of hell invade 
 
 With showers of fiery darts, 
 And join to the fierce lion's roar 
 The serpent's wily arts? 
 
 3 Jesus, who leads his hosts to war, 
 
 Shall tread the monster down. 
 And every faithful soldier sliare 
 The triumph and the crown. 
 
 4 So Israel on the haughty necks 
 
 Of Canaan's tyrants trod, 
 And sung their Joshua's conquering swoid. 
 And sung their faithful God.* 
 
 HYMN CCLXVI. 
 
 Christ ojir wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and 
 redemption. 1 Cor. i. 30, 31. 
 
 1 My God, assist me, while I raise 
 An anthem of harmonious praise ; 
 My heart thy wonders shall proclaim. 
 And spread its banners in thy name. 
 
 2 In Christ I view a store divine : 
 My Father, all that store is thine ; 
 By thee prepared, by thee bestowed : 
 Hail to the Saviour, and the God ! 
 
 3 When gloomy shades my soul o'erspread, 
 " Let there be light," the Almighty said ; 
 And Christ, my Sun, his beams displays, 
 And scatters round celestial rays. 
 
 4 Condemned, thy criminal I stood, 
 And awful justice asked my blood ; 
 That welcome Saviour from thy throne 
 Brought righteousness and pardon down. 
 
 5 My soul was all o'erspread with sin. 
 And lo, his grace hath made me clean : 
 He rescues from the infernal foe. 
 
 And full redemption will bestow. 
 
 6 Ye saints, assist my grateful tongue : 
 Ye angels, warble back my song : 
 For love like this demands the praise 
 Of heavenly harps, and endless days. 
 
 HYMN CCLXVII. 
 
 Being joined to Christ, and one spirit with him, 
 1 Cor. vi. 17. 
 
 1 My Saviour, I am thine 
 By everlasting bands ; 
 
 My name, my heart, I would resign, 
 My soul is in thy hands. 
 
 2 To thee I still would cleave 
 With ever-growing zeal ; 
 
 * Joshua X. 24. 
 
1 & 2 CORINTHIANS. 
 
 1047 
 
 Let millions tempt me Christ to leave, 
 They never shall prevail. 
 
 3 His Spirit shall unite 
 My soul to him, my head ; 
 
 Shall form me to his image bright, 
 And teach his path to tread. 
 
 4 Death may my soul divide 
 From this abode of clay ; 
 
 But love shall keep me near his side 
 Through all the gloomy way. 
 
 5 Since Christ and we are one, 
 What should remain to fear ? 
 
 If he in heaven hath fixed his throne, 
 He '11 fix his members there. 
 
 HYMN CCLXVIII. 
 
 The transitory nature of the loorld, an argument for 
 Christian moderation. 1 Cor. vii. 29 — 31 . 
 
 1 Sprino up, my soul, with ardent flight, 
 Nor let this earth delude my sight 
 
 With glittering trifles gay and vain : 
 Wisdom divine directs thy view 
 To objects ever grand and new. 
 
 And faith displays the shining train. 
 
 2 Be dead, my hopes, to all below ; 
 Nor let unbounded torrents flow. 
 
 When mourning o'er my withered joys: 
 So this deceitful world is known ; 
 Possessed I call it not my own ; 
 
 Nor glory in its painted toys. 
 
 3 The empty pageant roUs along ; 
 The giddy unexperienced throng 
 
 Pursue it with enclianted eyes ; 
 It passeth in swift march away, 
 Still more and more its charms decay, 
 
 Till the last gaudy colour dies.* 
 
 4 My God, to thee my soul shall turn ; 
 For thee my noblest passions burn, 
 
 And drink in bliss from thee alone : 
 I fix on that unchanging home. 
 Where never-fading pleasures bloom. 
 
 Fresh springing round thy radiant throne. 
 
 HYMN CCLXIX. 
 
 God's fidelity in moderating temptations. 
 I Cor. X. 13. 
 
 1 Now let the feeble all be strong. 
 And make Jehovah's arm their song: 
 His shield is spread o'er every saint. 
 And thus supported, who shall faint ? 
 
 * Pageants, images, or emblematical figures in a cav.ilcade or pro- 
 cession continually moving, and quickly gone out of sight. See 
 Famili) E-ij-ositor in loc. 
 
 2 What though the hosts of hell engage 
 With mingled cruelty and rage .' 
 
 A faithful God restrains their hands. 
 And chains them down in iron bands. 
 
 3 Bound by his word he will display 
 
 A strength proportioned to our day ; 
 And, when united trials meet, 
 Will show a path of safe retreat. 
 
 4 Thus far we prove that promise good, 
 Which Jesus ratified with blood : 
 Still is he gracious, wise, and just. 
 And still in him let Israel trust. 
 
 HYMN CCLXX. 
 
 Bearing the image of the earthy and the heavenly 
 Adam. 1 Cor. xv. 49. 
 
 1 With flowing eyes and bleeding hearts 
 
 A blasted world survey ; 
 See the wide ruin sin hath wrought 
 In one unhappy day ! 
 
 2 Adam, in God's own image formed, 
 
 From God and bliss estranged. 
 And all the joys of paradise 
 For guilt and horror changed ! 
 
 3 Ages of labour and of grief 
 
 He mourned his glory lost ; 
 At length the goodliest work of heaven 
 Sunk down to common dust. 
 
 4 O fatal heritage bequeathed 
 
 To all his helpless race ! 
 Through the thick maze of sin and woe 
 Thus to the grave we pass. 
 
 5 But, O my soul, with rapture hear 
 
 The second Adam's name ; 
 And the celestial gifts he brings. 
 To all his seed, proclaim. 
 
 6 In holiness and joy complete 
 
 He reigns to endless years, 
 And each adopted chosen child 
 His splendid image wears. 
 
 7 What though in mortal life they mourn ? 
 
 What though by death they fall ? 
 Jesus in one triumphant day 
 
 Transforms and crowns them all. 
 
 8 Praise to his rich mysterious grace I 
 
 Even by our fall we rise ; 
 And gain, for earthly Eden lost, 
 A heavenly paradise. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXI. 
 
 Ministers comforted, that they may comfort others. 
 2 Cor. i. 4. 
 
 1 Foi'NTAiN of comfort and of love, 
 Thy streams, how free they flow ! 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 lOIS 
 
 First water all llic world above, 
 Then visit us below ! 
 
 2 From Christ, the head, w hat grace descends 
 
 To cherish every part ! 
 lie shares his joys with all his friends, 
 For all have shared his lieart. 
 
 3 What though the sorrows here they feel 
 
 Are manifold and great ? 
 He brings new consolations still. 
 As various and as sweet. 
 
 4 He sliows our numerous sins forgiven. 
 
 And shows our covenant God ; 
 He witnesseth our right to heaven, 
 The purchase of his blood. 
 
 6 Though earth and hell against us join. 
 In him we are secure ; 
 Our diadems shall brighter shine 
 For all vvc now endure. 
 
 6 On every faithful sheplierd's breast. 
 Lord, send these comforts down ; 
 That they m<iy lead their Hock to rest, 
 Which their own souls have known. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXn. 
 
 God's (leliverinri (joodness achnoxclcdged and trusted. 
 2 Cor. i. 10. 
 
 A Song for the Fiftli of November. 
 
 1 Praise to the Lord, whose mighty hand 
 So oft revealed hath saved our land ; 
 And, when united nations rose, 
 
 Hath shamed and scourged our haughtiest foes. 
 
 2 When mighty navies from afar 
 To Britain wafted floating war. 
 
 His breath dispersed them all with ease, 
 And sunk their terrors in the seas. * 
 
 3 While for our princes they prepare 
 In caverns deep a burning snare; 
 He shot from heaven a piercing ray. 
 And the dark treachery brought to day. t 
 
 ■1 Princes and priests again combine 
 
 New chains to forge, new snares to twine ; 
 
 Again our gracious God appears. 
 
 And breaks their chains, and cuts their snares. 
 
 5 Obedient winds at his command 
 Convey his hero to our land ; 
 
 The sons of Rome with terror view. 
 
 And speed their flight when none pursue. I 
 
 6 Such great deliverance God hath wrought, 
 And down to us salvation brought ; 
 
 And still the care of guardian heaven 
 Secures the bliss itself hath given. 
 
 » Referring to the defeat of tlie Spanish Armaib, IjSS. 
 + Gunpowder plot. 
 J Revolution by King William, 1C8S 
 
 7 In thee we trust. Almighty Loid, 
 Continued rescue to allord ; 
 Still be thy powerful arm made bare. 
 For all thy servants' hopes are there. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXIII. 
 
 Ministers a sweet savour, whether of life or death, 
 2 Cor. ii. 15, 10. 
 
 1 Pk.mse to the Lord on high. 
 Who spreads his triumph wide ! 
 While Jesus' fragrant name 
 
 Is breathed on every side : 
 Balmy and rich 
 Tlic odours rise, 
 And till the earth 
 And reach the skies. 
 
 2 Ten thousand dying souls 
 Its influence feel and live ; 
 Sweeter than vital air 
 The incense they receive : 
 
 They breathe anew, 
 And rise and sing 
 Jesus the Lord, 
 Their conquering King. 
 
 3 But sinners scorn the grace 
 Tliat brings salvation nigh : 
 They turn their face away, 
 And faint, and fall, and die. 
 
 So sad a doom, 
 Ye saints, deplore. 
 For oh they fall 
 To rise no more. 
 
 4 Yet, wise and mighty God, 
 Shall all thy servants be, 
 In those who live or die, 
 
 A savour sweet to thee : 
 Supremely bright 
 Thy grace shall shine. 
 Guarded with flames 
 Of wrath divine. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXIV. 
 God shining into the heart. 2 Cor. iv. 0. 
 
 1 PftATSE to the Lord of boundless might ! 
 With uncreated glories bright, 
 
 His presence gilds the worlds above ; 
 The unchanging source of light and love. 
 
 2 Our rising earth his eye beheld. 
 When in substantial darkness veiled ; 
 The shapeless chaos, nature's womb. 
 Lay buried in eternal gloom. § 
 
 3 Let there be light, Jehovah said. 
 And light o'er all its face was spread ; 
 
 ; Gencsi'i i. 2, 3. 
 
2 CORINTHIANS. 
 
 1040 
 
 Nature, arrayed in charms unknown, 
 Gay with its new-born lustre shone. 
 
 4 He sees the mind, w hen lost it lies 
 In shades of ignorance and vice ; 
 And darts from heaven a vivid * ray, 
 And changes midnight into day. 
 
 5 Shine, mighty God, with vigour shine 
 On this benighted heart of mine ; 
 And let thy glories stand revealed, 
 As in the Saviour's face beheld. 
 
 6 My soul, revived by heaven-born day, 
 Thy radiant image shall display, 
 While all my faculties unite 
 
 To praise the Lord, who gives me light. 
 
 HlfMN CCLXXV. 
 The gospel treasure in earthen vessels. 2 Cor. iv. 7. 
 
 1 How rich thy bounty, King of kings ! 
 
 Thy favours how divine! 
 The blessings which thy gospel brings. 
 How splendidly they shine ! 
 
 2 Gold is but dross, and gems but toys, 
 
 Should gold and gems compare ; 
 How mean, when set against those joys 
 Thy poorest servants share ! 
 
 3 Yet all these treasures of thy grace 
 
 Are lodged in urns t of clay ; 
 And the weak sons of mortal race, 
 The immortal gifts convey. 
 
 4 Feebly they lisp thy glories forth ; 
 
 Yet grace the victory gives : 
 Quickly they moulder back to earth ; 
 Yet still thy gospel lives. 
 
 6 Such wonders power divine effects ; 
 Such trophies I God can raise ; 
 His hand from crumbling dust erects 
 Long monuments of praise. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXVI. 
 Living to him who died for us. 2 Cor. v. 14, 1.5. 
 
 1 My Lord, didst thou endure such smart 
 My life, w hen forfeited, to save ? 
 
 And didst thou bear upon thy heart 
 My name, when rising from the grave? 
 
 2 Am I in thy remembrance still, 
 'Midst all the glories of thy throne ? 
 To form thy servant to thy will. 
 And fix my dwelling near thy own ? 
 
 3 What can a feeble worm repay 
 For love so infinite as thine ? 
 
 • Lively, sprightly. + Vessels or jars. 
 
 X Moiiumciits or tokena of victory. 
 
 The torrent bears my soul away, 
 
 The impetuous stream of grace divine. § 
 
 4 To thee, my Lord, it bears me on ; 
 Self shall be deified || no more ; 
 By self betrayed, by self undone, 
 I live by thy recovering power. 
 
 5 Accept a soul so dearly bought ; 
 Bought by thy life upon the tree ; 
 A soul which, by thy Spirit taught. 
 Knows no delight but serving thee. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXVII. 
 God the author of consolation. 2 Cor. vii. G. 
 
 1 The Lord, how rich his comforts are ! 
 How wide they spread! how high they rise! 
 He pours in balm to bleeding hearts. 
 
 And wipes the tears from flowing eyes. 
 
 2 I have no hope, my spirit cried. 
 Just trembling on the brink of hell ; 
 I am thy hope, the Lord replied. 
 My love secures its favourites well. 
 
 3 My grateful soul shall speak his praise, 
 Who turns its tremblings into songs ; 
 And those that mourn shall learn from mc 
 Salvation to our God belongs. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXVIII. 
 
 Satan's strong holds cast down by the gospel. 
 2 Cor. X. 4, 5. 
 
 1 Shout, for the battlements are fall'n. 
 
 Which heaven itself defied ! 
 The aspiring towers dismantled 5f all. 
 Now spread their ruins wide ! 
 
 2 Thy wondrous trumpets, Prince of peace, 
 
 Sent forth their mighty sound ; 
 The strength of .Jericho was struck, 
 And tottered to the ground.** 
 
 3 No more proud reasonings shall dispute 
 
 What truth divine declares ; 
 No more self-righteousness to plead 
 Its own perfections dares. 
 
 4 No strength our ruined powers can boast 
 
 Thy precepts to fulfil ; 
 No liberty we ask or wish 
 For our rebellious will. 
 
 6 The gates we open to admit 
 The Saviour's gentle sway : 
 Blest Jesus, 'tis thy right to reign, 
 Our pleasure to obey. 
 
 \ lifffrrinf? to tlic emphasis of the ori^^ioal word, viz. bears u 
 away liku .1 strong torrent. 
 
 II Made a god of. 
 IT DemoliBhed, broke down. ** Joshua i i. 20. 
 
1050 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 (i Each thought in sweet subjection held, 
 Tliy sovereifju power shall own ; 
 And every traitor shall be slain, 
 That dares dispute the throne. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXIX. 
 The Christian farewell. 2 Cor. xiii. 11. 
 
 1 Thy presence, everlasting God, 
 Wide o'er all nature spreads abroad ; 
 Thy watchful eyes, which cannot sleep. 
 In every place thy children keep. 
 
 2 While near each other we remain. 
 Thou dost our lives and souls sustain ; 
 When absent, happy if we share 
 
 Thy smiles, thy counsels, and thy care. 
 
 3 To thee we all our ways commit. 
 And seek our comforts near thy feet ; 
 Still on our souls vouchsafe to shine, 
 And guard and guide us still as thine. 
 
 4 Give us in thy beloved house 
 Again to pay our grateful vows ; 
 Or, if that joy no more be known, 
 Give us to meet around thy throne. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXX. 
 
 Living while in the fiesh hy faith in Christ, who loved 
 us, f)-c. Gal. ii. 20. 
 
 1 My Jesus, while in mortal flesh 
 
 I hold my frail abode. 
 Still would my spirit rest on thee. 
 Its Saviour, and its God. 
 
 2 By hourly faith in thee I live 
 
 'Midst all my griefs and snares ; 
 And death, encountered in thy fight, 
 No form of horror wears. 
 
 3 Yes, thou hast loved this sinful worm. 
 
 Hast given thyself for me ; 
 Hast brought me from eternal death. 
 Nailed to the bloody tree. 
 
 4 On thy dear cross I fix mine eyes, 
 
 Then raise them to thy seat ; 
 Till love dissolves my inmost soul 
 At its Redeemer's feet. 
 
 5 Be dead, my heart, to worldly charms ; 
 
 Be dead to every sin ; 
 And tell the boldest foes without, 
 That Jesus reigns within. 
 
 G My life with his connected stands. 
 Nor asks a surer ground ; 
 He keeps me in his gracious arms, 
 Where heaven itself is found. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXI. 
 
 A filial temper, the work of the Spirit, and a prooj 
 of adoption. Gal. iv. 6. 
 
 1 SovEKEiGN of all the worlds on high. 
 
 Allow my humble claim ; 
 Nor, while a word would raise its head, 
 Disdain a father's name. 
 
 2 My Father God! how sweet the sound ! 
 
 How tender and how dear ! 
 Not all the melody of heaven 
 Could so delight the ear. 
 
 3 Come, sacred Spirit, seal the name 
 
 On mine expanding heart : 
 And show, that in Jehovah's grace 
 I share a filial part. 
 
 4 Cheered by a signal so divine. 
 
 Unwavering I believe ; 
 Thou knowest I Abba, Father, cry, 
 Nor can the sign deceive. 
 
 5 On wings of everlasting love 
 
 The Comforter is come ; 
 All terrors at his voice disperse, 
 And endless pleasures bloom. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXII. 
 Christian sympathy. Gal. vi. 2. 
 
 1 Hail, everlasting Prince of peace ! 
 
 Hail, Governor divine ! 
 How gracious is thy sceptre's sway ! 
 What gentle laws are thine ! 
 
 2 His tender heart with love o'erflowed, 
 
 Love spoke in every breath ; 
 Vigorous it reigned through all this life, 
 And triumphed in his death. 
 
 3 All these united charms he shows 
 
 Our frozen souls to move ; 
 This proof of love to him demands 
 That we each other love. 
 
 4 O be the sacred law fulfilled 
 
 In every act and thought ; 
 Each angry passion far removed, 
 Each selfish view forgot. 
 
 5 Be thou, my heart, dilated wide 
 
 By thy Redeemer's grace : 
 And, in one grasp of fervent love, 
 All earth and heaven embrace. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXIir. 
 
 Blessing God for spiritual blessings in Christ. 
 Ephes. i. 3. 
 
 1 Loud be thy name adored, 
 Thy titles-spread abroad. 
 Of Christ, our glorious Lord, 
 The Father and the God ! 
 
EPHESIANS. 
 
 1051 
 
 Through such a Son, 
 Thy church's liead, 
 Thine honours spread 
 O'er worlds unknown. 
 
 2 Ten thousand gifts of love 
 From thee through him descend ; 
 And bear our souls above, 
 
 To joys that never end: 
 To heaven they soar, 
 Sustained by God, 
 And through the road 
 His arm adore. 
 
 3 Ten thousand songs of praise 
 Shall by the Saviour rise. 
 And through eternal days 
 Shall echo round the skies. 
 
 New shouts we '11 give. 
 And loud proclaim 
 The honoured name 
 By which we live. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXIV. 
 The grand scheme of the gospel. Eph. i. 9 — 11. 
 
 . 1 We sing the deep mysterious plan. 
 Which God devised ere time began ; 
 
 At length disclosed in all its light. 
 We bless the wondrous birth of love. 
 Which beams around us from above, 
 With grace so free, and hope so bright. 
 
 2 Here has the wise Eternal Mind 
 
 In Christ, their common head, conjoined 
 
 Gentiles and Jews, and earth and heaven : 
 Through him, from the great Father's throne. 
 Rivers of bliss come rolling down. 
 And endless peace and life are given. 
 
 3 No more the awful cherubs guard 
 The tree of life with flaming sword. 
 
 To drive afar man's trembling race ; 
 At Salem's pearly gates they stand. 
 And smiling wait (a friendly band !) 
 
 To welcome strangers to the place. 
 
 4 While we expect that glorious sight. 
 Love shall our hearts with theirs unite. 
 
 And ardent hope our bosoms raise : 
 From earth's dark vale, and tongues of clay, 
 To these resplendent realms of day. 
 
 We '11 try to send the sounding praise. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXV. 
 The heavenly inheritance made hnoivn hy the Spirit. 
 Eph. i. 18. 
 1 Come, thou celestial Spirit, come. 
 And call my roving passions home ; 
 To mine enlightened eyes display 
 The heritage of heavenly day. 
 
 2 My God, that heritage is thine : 
 How rich, how glorious, how divine ! 
 How far above all mortal things. 
 The little pride of courts and kings ! 
 
 3 Of endless joy the unbounded store, 
 Why is its lustre known no more ? 
 Away, ye mists of envious night. 
 That veil salvation from my sight ! 
 
 4 Shine forth. Almighty Saviour, shine ; 
 Show the bright world, and show it mine. 
 Then paradise on earth shall spring, 
 And mortal worms like angels sing. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXVI. 
 Salvation hy grace. Eph. ii. 
 
 1 Grace ! 'tis a charming sound, 
 Harmonious to my ear ; 
 
 Heaven with the echo shall resound, 
 And all the earth shall hear. 
 
 2 Grace first contrived a way 
 To save rebellious man. 
 
 And all the steps that grace display, 
 Which drew the wondrous plan. 
 
 3 Grace taught my wandering feet 
 To tread the heavenly road, 
 
 And new supplies each hour I meet. 
 While pressing on to God. 
 
 4 Grace all the work shall crown 
 Through everlasting days ; 
 
 It lays in heaven the topmost stone. 
 And well deserves the praise. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXVII. 
 
 Christians risen and exalted with Christ to heavcnlj^ 
 places. Epb. ii. 5, 6. 
 
 1 Stupendous grace ! and can it be 
 Designed for rebels such as we ? 
 
 O let our ardent praises rise. 
 
 High as our hopes beyond the skies ! 
 
 2 This flesh, by righteous vengeance slain. 
 Might ever in the dust remain ; 
 
 These guilty spirits sent to dwell 
 Midst all the flames and fiends* of hell. 
 
 3 But lo, incarnate love descends ; 
 Down to the sepulchre it bends ; 
 Rising, it tears the bars away. 
 And springs to its own native day. 
 
 4 Then was our sepulchre unbarred ; 
 Then was our path to glory cleared ; 
 Then, if that Saviour be our own. 
 Did we ascend a heavenly throne. 
 
 * Evil spirits. 
 
lOGQt 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 5 A moment sliall onrjoy complete, 
 And fix us in that shininj? scut, 
 IJoiifjht hy llie ])iing;s our Lord endured. 
 And hy unchansing truth secured. 
 
 C C) may that love, in strains sublime. 
 Be suii<; to the last hour of time ! 
 And let eternity confess. 
 Through all its rounds, the matchless grace. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXVni. 
 
 Nearness to God (hrour/h Christ. Eph. ii. 12. 
 
 1 And are we now brought near to God, 
 
 Who once at distance stood ? 
 And to eflcct this glorious change, 
 Did Jesus shed his blood ? 
 
 2 O for a song of ardent praise 
 
 To bear our souls above ! 
 What should allay our lively hope. 
 Or damp our flaming love? 
 
 3 Draw us, O Lord, with quickening grace, 
 
 And bring us yet more near ; 
 Here may we see thy glories shine, 
 And taste thy mercies here. 
 
 4 O may that love, which spread thy board. 
 
 Dispose us for the feast ; 
 May faith behold a smiling God 
 Through Jesus' bleeding breast. 
 
 5 Fired with the view, our souls shall rise 
 
 In such a scene as this. 
 And view the happy moment near, 
 That shall complete our bliss. 
 
 HYMN CCLXXXIX. 
 
 The institution of a gospel ministry from Christ. 
 Eph. iv. 11, 12. 
 
 For the Ordination or Settlement of a Minister. 
 
 1 Fathek of mercies, in thy house 
 Smile on our homage and our vows ; 
 While with a grateful heart we share 
 These pledges of our Saviour's care. 
 
 2 The Saviour, when to heaven he rose 
 In splendid triumph o'er his foes. 
 Scattered his gifts on men below. 
 And wide his royal bounties flow. 
 
 3 Hence sprung the apostles' honoured name, 
 Sacred beyond heroic fame ; 
 
 Hence dictates the prophetic sage ; 
 And hence the evangelic page. 
 
 4 In lowlier forms, to bless our eyes, 
 Pastors from hence, and teachers rise ; 
 Who, though with feebler rays they shine, 
 Ftill gild a long-extended line. 
 
 6 From Christ their varied gifts derive. 
 And fed by Christ their graces live : 
 While, guarded by his potent hand, 
 'Midst all the rage of hell they stand. 
 
 G So shall the bright succession run 
 Througli the last courses of the sun ; 
 While unborn churches by their care 
 Shall rise and flourish, large and fair. 
 
 7 Jesus our Lord their hearts shall know. 
 The spring, wlience all tliose blessings flow ; 
 Pastors and people shout his praise 
 Through the long round of endless days. 
 
 HYMN CCXC. 
 
 Christ the head of the church. Eph. iv. 15, 16. 
 
 J Jesus, I sing thy matchless grace, 
 That calls a worm thy own ; 
 Gives me among thy saints a place 
 To make thy glo'ries known. 
 
 2 Allied to thee our vital Head, 
 
 We act, and grow, and thrive : 
 From thee divided, each is dead, 
 When most he seems alive. 
 
 3 Thy saints on earth, and those above, 
 
 Here join in sweet accord ; 
 One body all in mutual love. 
 And thou, our common Lord. 
 
 4 O may my faith each hour derive 
 
 Thy Spirit with delight; 
 While death and hell in vain shall strive 
 This bond to disunite. 
 
 5 Thou the whole body wilt present 
 
 Before thy Father's face ; 
 Nor shall a wrinkle or a spot 
 Its beauteous form disgrace. 
 
 HYMN CCXCL 
 
 Love to others urged from Christ's love, in giving 
 himself a sacrifice. Eph. v. 2. 
 
 1 Now be that sacrifice surveyed. 
 That ransom which the Saviour paid ; 
 That sight familiar to my view. 
 
 Yet always wondrous, always new. 
 
 2 The Lamb of God, that groaned and bled, 
 And gently bowed his dying head ; 
 While love to sinners fired his heart. 
 And conquered all the killing smart. 
 
 3 Blest Jesus, while thy grace I sing. 
 What grateful tribute shall I bring. 
 That earth and heaven and thou mayst see 
 My love to him, who died for me? 
 
 4 That offering, Lord, thy word hath taught, 
 Nor be thy new command forgot, 
 
EPHESIANS. 
 
 Tliat, if their Master's death can move. 
 Thy servants should each other love. 
 
 5 When to thy sacred cross we fly, 
 There let each savage passion die ; 
 While the warm streams of blood divine 
 Melt our cold hearts to love like thine. 
 
 HYMN CCXCII. 
 The wisdom of redeeming time. Eph. v. 15, 16. 
 
 1 God of eternity, from thee 
 
 Did infant Time his being draw ; 
 Moments and days, and months and years, 
 Revolve by thine unvaried law. 
 
 2 Silent and slow they glide away ; 
 Steady and strong the current flows, 
 Lost in eternity's wild sea, 
 
 The boundless gulf, from whence it rose. 
 
 3 With it the thoughtless sons of men 
 Before the rapid streams are borne 
 On to that everlasting home. 
 Where not one soul can e'er return. 
 
 4 Yet while the shore on either side 
 Presents a gaudy flattering show. 
 We gaze, in fond amusement lost, 
 Nor think to what a world we go. 
 
 5 Great source of wisdom, teach my heart 
 To know the price of every hour, 
 That time may bear me on to joys 
 Beyond its measure, and its power. 
 
 HYMN CCXCni. 
 
 Christ's love to the church in yiving himself for it, ^-c. 
 Eph. V. 25—27. 
 
 1 Bkidegkoom of souls, how rich thy love ! 
 
 How generous, how divine ! 
 Our inmost hearts it well may move, 
 While thus our voices join. 
 
 2 Deformed and wretched once we lay, 
 
 Worthy thy hate and scorn ; 
 Yet love like thine could find a way 
 To rescue and adorn. 
 
 3 Thou art our ransom ; from thy veins 
 
 A wondrous fountain flows, 
 To wash thy bride from all her stains. 
 And heal our deepest woes. 
 
 4 Transformed by tliec, e'en here below 
 
 Thy church is bright and fair: 
 But O ! how glorious shall she show, 
 When Jesus shall appear ! 
 
 1 5 Thine eye shall all her form survey, 
 I With infinite delight. 
 
 Confessed in that illustrious day. 
 Unblemished in thy sight. 
 
 PHILIPPIANS. 1053 
 HYMN CCXCIV. 
 
 Christ's service, the fruit of our labours on earth, 
 Phil. i. 22. 
 
 1 My gracious Lord, I own thy right 
 To every service I can pay ; 
 
 And call it my supreme delight 
 To hear thy dictates and obey. 
 
 2 What is my being, but for thee. 
 Its sure support, its noblest end ? 
 Thy evcr-smiling face to see, 
 
 .\nd serve the cause of such a friend. 
 
 3 I would not breathe for worldly joy. 
 Or to increase my worldly good ; 
 Nor future days or powers employ 
 To spread a sounding name abroad. 
 
 4 'Tis to my Saviour I would live ; 
 To him, who for my ransom died ; 
 Nor could untainted Edeu give 
 Such bliss as blossoms at his side. 
 
 5 His work my hoary age shall bless, 
 When youthful vigour is no more : 
 And my last hour of life confess 
 His love hath animating power. 
 
 HYMN CCXCV. 
 
 The happiness of departing, andbeing with Christ. 
 Phil. i. 23. 
 
 1 While on the verge of life I stand. 
 And view the scenes on either hand. 
 My spirit struggles with its clay. 
 And longs to wing its flight away. 
 
 2 Where Jesus dwells my soul would be ; 
 It faints my much-loved Lord to see : 
 Earth, twine no more about my heart, 
 For 'tis far better to depart. 
 
 3 Come, ye angelic envoys, * come, 
 And lead the willing pilgrim home: 
 Ye know the way to Jesus' throne. 
 Source of mj* joys, and of your own. 
 
 4 That blessed interview, how sweet ! 
 To fall transported at his feet! 
 Raised in his arms, to view his face. 
 Through the full beamings of his grace, 
 
 5 To see heaven's shining courtiers round, 
 Each with immortal glories crowned ! 
 And, while his form in each I trace, 
 Beloved, and loving all to embrace ! 
 
 6 As with a seraph's voice to sing ! 
 To fly as on a cherub's wing ! 
 Performing with unwearied hands 
 
 A present Saviour's high commands ! 
 
 * .Messengers, anibassailors. 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 7 Yet with these prospects full in sight, 
 I '11 wait thy signal lor my Might ; 
 For, wliile thy service I pursue, 
 I find my Jieavcn begun below. 
 
 HYMN CCXCVI. 
 Pressing on in the Christian race. Phil. iii. 12 — 14. 
 
 1 Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve, 
 
 And press w ith vigour on : 
 A heavenly race demands thy zeal, 
 And an immortal crown. 
 
 2 A cloud of witnesses around 
 
 Hold thee in full survey : 
 Forget the steps already trod. 
 And onward urge thy way. 
 
 3 'Tis God's all-animating voice, 
 
 That calls thee from on high ; 
 'Tis his own hand presents the prize 
 To thine aspiring eye. 
 
 4 That prize with peerless glories bright, 
 
 Which shall new lustre boast. 
 When victors' wreaths * and monarchs' gems 
 Shall blend in common dust. 
 
 5 Blest Saviour, introduced by thee, 
 
 Have 1 my race begun ; 
 And crowned with victory, at thy feet 
 I '11 lay my honours down. 
 
 HYMN CCXCVII. 
 
 God supplying the necessities of his people. 
 Phil. iv. 19, 20. 
 
 1 My God, how cheerful is the sound ! 
 
 How pleasant to repeat ! 
 Well may that heart with pleasure bound, 
 Where God hath fixed his seat. 
 
 2 What want shall not our God supply 
 
 From his redundant stores? 
 What streams of mercy from on high 
 An arm almighty pours ? 
 
 3 From Christ, the ever-living spring, 
 
 These ample blessings flow : 
 Prepare, my lips, his name to sing, 
 Whose heart hath loved us so. 
 
 4 Now to our Father and our God 
 
 Be endless glory given, 
 Through all the realms of man's abode, 
 And through the highest heaven. 
 
 HYMN CCXCVIII. 
 
 Thanhfulness for being made meet for the heavenly 
 inheritance. Coloss. i. 12. 
 
 1 ALL-glorious God, what liymns of praise 
 Shall our transported voices raise ! 
 
 What flaming love and zeal is due, 
 While heaven stands open to our view ! 
 
 2 Once we were fallen, and oh ! bow low ! 
 Just on the brink of endless woe; 
 Doomed to a heritage in hell, 
 
 Where sinners all in darkness dwell. 
 
 3 But lo, a ray of cheerful light 
 Scatters the horrid shades of night ! 
 Lo, what triumphant grace is shown 
 To souls impoverished and undone ! 
 
 4 Far, far beyond these mortal shores 
 A bright inheritance is ours ; 
 Wlicre saints in light our coming wait. 
 To share their holy blissful state. 
 
 5 If ready drest for heaven wc shine, 
 Thine are the robes, the crown is thine : 
 May endless years their course prolong. 
 While " Thine tlie praise," is all our song. 
 
 HYMN CCXCIX. 
 
 A lujcls and CJiristians united in Christ, as their 
 common head. Coloss. ii. 10. 
 
 1 Hail to Emanuel's ever honoured name ! 
 Spread it, ye angels, through heaven's sacred flame. 
 Ye sceptred cherubim, before his throne. 
 
 And flaming seraphim, bow humbly down. 
 He is your head; with prostrate awe adore him. 
 And lay with joy your radiant crowns before him. 
 
 2 Arrayed in his refulgent beams ye shine, 
 And draw existence t from his source divine ; 
 Grateful ye wait the signal of his hand, 
 Honoured too highly by his least command : 
 
 In him the indwelling Deity admiring. 
 And to his brighter image still aspiring. 
 
 3 Mortals with you in cheerful homage join. 
 And bring their anthems to Emanuel's shrine : 
 Mean as we are, with sins and griefs beset. 
 We glory, that in him we are complete. 
 
 He is our head, and we with you adore him, 
 
 And pour our wants, our joys, our hearts before him. 
 
 4 We sing the blood that ransomed iis from hell ; 
 We sing the graces that in Jesus dwell ; 
 
 Led by his Spirit, guarded by his hand, 
 Our hopes anticipate your goodly land ; 
 
 Still his incarnate Deity admiring. 
 
 And with heaven's hierarchy I in praise conspiring. 
 
 HYMN CCC. 
 
 Christians, as risen with Christ, exhorted to seek 
 things above. Coloss. iii. 1 . 
 
 1 Hearken, ye children of your God; 
 Ye heirs of glory, hear ; 
 
 * Cruwiisor^rlands given to coiiquerora. 
 
 + Being or life. 
 
 I The several orders of angels. 
 
1 & 2 THESSALONIANS. 1 TIMOTHY, 
 
 1055 
 
 For accents so divine as these 
 Might charm the dullest ear. 
 
 2 Baptized into your Saviour's death, 
 
 Your souls to sin must die ; 
 With Christ our Lord ye live anew, 
 With Christ ascend on high. 
 
 3 There at his Father's hand he sits 
 
 Enthroned divinely fair ; 
 Yet ow ns himself your brother still, 
 And your forerunner there. 
 
 4 Rise from these earthly trifles, rise 
 
 On wings of faith and love ; 
 Jesus your choicest treasure lies, 
 And be your hearts, above. 
 
 5 But earth and sin will drag us down, 
 
 When we attempt to fly ; 
 Lord, send thy strong attractive force, 
 To raise and fix us high. 
 
 HYMN CCCI. 
 
 The prosperity of the church, the life of a faithful 
 minister. I Thess. iii. 8. 
 
 1 Blest Jesus, bow thine ear, 
 While we entreat thy love : 
 
 O come, and all our hearts possess. 
 And our best passions move. 
 
 2 May we stand fast in thee, 
 Though storms and tempests beat; 
 
 And in tliy guardian arms obtain 
 A calm and safe retreat. 
 
 3 Still be thy truth maintained, 
 And still thy word obeyed, 
 
 And to the merits of thy blood 
 A constant homage paid. 
 
 4 So shall thy shepherds live 
 And raise their cheerful head. 
 
 And, in such blessings on their flock, 
 Confess their toils repaid. 
 
 HYMN CCCn. 
 
 Comfort on the death of a pious friend. 1 Thes«. 
 iv. 17, 18. 
 
 1 Tkansporting tidings which we hear ! 
 What music to the pious ear ! 
 
 Christ loves each humble saint so well. 
 He with his Lord sliall ever dwell. 
 
 2 Blest Jesus, source of every grace. 
 From far to view thy smiling face. 
 While absent thus by faith we live. 
 Exceeds all joys that earth can give. 
 
 3 But O ! what ecstasy unknown 
 
 Fills the wide circle round thy throne. 
 
 Where every rapturous hour appears 
 Nobler than millions of our years ! 
 
 4 Millions by millions multiplied 
 
 Shall ne'er thy saints from thee divide ; 
 But the bright legions live and praise 
 Through all thy own immortal days. 
 
 5 O happy dead, in thee that sleep. 
 
 While o'er their mouldering dust we weep ! 
 
 0 faithful Saviour, who shalt come 
 That dust to ransom from the tomb ! 
 
 6 While thine unerring word imparts 
 So rich a cordial to our hearts. 
 
 Through tears our triumphs shall be shown. 
 Though round their graves, and near our own. 
 
 HYMN CCCni. 
 
 Christ glorified and admired in his saints at the great 
 day. 2 Thess. i. 10. 
 
 1 Ye heavens, with sounds of triumph ring ; 
 Ye angels, burst into a song ; 
 
 Jesus descends, victorious King, 
 And leads his shining train along. 
 
 2 Ye saints that sleep in dust, arise ; 
 Let joy re-animate your clay ; 
 
 Spring to your Saviour through the skies, 
 And round his throne your homage pay. 
 
 3 Then let the sons of heaven draw nigh. 
 While to the astonished hosts you tell. 
 How feeble mortals rose so high 
 
 From graves and worms, from siu and hell. 
 
 4 Tell them, in accents like their own. 
 What an incarnate God could do ; 
 Then point to Jesus on tlie throne, 
 And boast, that Jesus died for you. 
 
 5 Transported, they no more can hear ; 
 Their voices catch the sacred name ; 
 Harmonious to his Father's ear, 
 Jesus the God, their harps proclaim. 
 
 G Sin hath its dire* incursions made. 
 
 That thou mightst prove thy power to save ; 
 And death its ensigns wide displayed. 
 That thou mightst triumph o'er the grave. 
 
 HYMN CCCIV. 
 
 Christ seen of anyels. 1 Tim. iii. IG. 
 
 1 O YE immortal throng 
 
 Of angels round the throne, 
 Join with our feeble song. 
 To make the Saviour known : 
 
 On earth ye knew 
 
 His wondrous grace. 
 
 His beauteous face 
 
 In heaven ye view. 
 
 ♦ Dreadful. ' 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 2 Ye saw the lieavcn-born child 
 In human flesh arraycil, 
 Benevolent and mild, 
 While in the manger laid : 
 
 And praise to God, 
 And peace on earth. 
 For such a birth, 
 Proclaimed aloud. 
 
 3 Ye in the wilderness 
 Beheld tiie tempter spoiled, 
 Well known in every dress, 
 In every combat foiled ; 
 
 And joyed to crown 
 The Victor's head, 
 When Satan lied 
 Before his frown. 
 
 4 Around the bloody tree 
 
 Ye pressed with strong desire, 
 That M'ondrous sight to see, 
 The Lord of life expire ; 
 
 And could your eyes 
 
 Have known a tear, 
 
 Had dropped it there 
 
 In sad surprise. 
 
 5 Around his sacred tomb 
 A willing watch ye keep ; 
 Till the blest moment come 
 To rouse him from his sleep : 
 
 Then rolled the stone, 
 And all adored 
 Your rising Lord 
 With joy unknown. 
 
 6 When all arrayed in light 
 The shining conqueror rode. 
 Ye hailed his rapturous flight 
 Up to the throne of God ; 
 
 And waved around 
 Your golden wings. 
 And struck your strings 
 Of sweetest sound. 
 
 7 The warbling notes pursue. 
 And louder anthems raise ; 
 While mortals sing with you 
 Their own Redeemer's praise : 
 
 And thou my heart. 
 With equal flame, 
 And joy the same, 
 Perform thy part. 
 
 HYMN CCCV. 
 
 The stability of the divine foundation, and its double 
 inscription. 2 Tim. ii. 19. 
 
 1 To thee, great Architect on high. 
 Immortal thanks be paid, 
 Who, to support tiiy sinking saints. 
 This firm foundation laid. 
 
 2 Fixed on a rock thy gospel stands. 
 
 And braves * the rage of heU ; 
 And while the Saviour's hand protects, 
 His blood cements it well. 
 
 3 Here will I build my final hope ; 
 
 Here rest my weary soul ; 
 Mr.jcstic shall the fabric f rise. 
 Till glory crown the whole. 
 
 4 Deep on my heart, all-gracious Lord, 
 
 Engrave its double seal ; 
 Which, while it speaks thy honoured name. 
 Its sacred use may tell. 
 
 5 Dear by a thousand tender bonds. 
 
 Thy saints to thee are known ; 
 And, conscious what a name they bear, 
 Iniquity they shun. 
 
 HYMN CCCVL 
 
 Persecution to be expected by every true Christian. 
 2 Tim. iii. 12. 
 
 1 Great Leader of thine Israel's host, 
 
 We shout thy conquering name ; 
 Legions of foes beset thee round. 
 And legions fled with shame. 
 
 2 A victory glorious and complete 
 
 Thou by thy death didst gain ; 
 So in thy cause may wc contend. 
 And death itself sustain. 
 
 3 By our illustrious General fired. 
 
 We no extremes would fear ; 
 Prepared to struggle and to bleed. 
 If thou, our Lord, be near. 
 
 4 We '11 trace the footsteps thou hast drawn 
 
 To triumph and renown ; 
 Nor shun thy combat and thy cross. 
 May we but share thy crown. 
 
 HYMN CCCVn. 
 
 The Christian schetne of salvation worthy of God. 
 Heb. ii. 10. 
 
 1 Immortal God, on thee wc call, 
 The great original of all ; 
 Through thee we are, to thee wc tend. 
 Our sure support, our glorious end. 
 
 2 We praise that wise mysterious grace. 
 That pitied our revolted race. 
 
 And Jesus, our victorious head, 
 Tlie Captain of salvation made. 
 
 3 He, thine eternal love decreed. 
 Should many sons to glory lead ; 
 And sinful worms to him are given, 
 A colony to people heaven. 
 
 ♦ Defies. + Biiildiiig. 
 
HEBREWS. 
 
 1057 
 
 4 Jesus for us (O gracious name !) 
 Encounters agony and shame : 
 Jesus, the glorious and tlie great, 
 Was by dire suflTering made complete. 
 
 5 A scene of wonders here we see. 
 Worthy thy Son, and worthy thee : 
 
 And while this theme employs our tongues, 
 All heaven unites its sweetest songs. 
 
 HYMN CCCVni. 
 
 Satan and death conquered by the death of Christ. 
 Heb. ii. 14, 15. 
 
 1 Satan, the dire* invader came, 
 
 Our new-made world to annoy : 
 And death marched dreadful in his rear, 
 His captives to destroy. 
 
 2 Caught in his snares our father sunk ; 
 
 With him his children fell ; 
 And death his fatal shaft f prepared 
 To smite them down to hell. 
 
 3 Jesus with pitying eye beheld, 
 
 And left his starry crown ; 
 Turned his own weapons on the foe, 
 And moved his legions down. 
 
 4 By death the Saviour death disarmed, 
 
 That we in light may shine ; 
 And fixed this great mysterious law, 
 That dust should dust refine. 
 
 5 No more the pointed shaft we fear, 
 
 Nor dread the monster's boast ; 
 No more the pious dead we mourn. 
 As friends for ever lost. 
 
 6 Their tongues, great Prince of life, shall join 
 
 With our recovered breath, 
 And all the immortal hosts, to ascribe 
 Our victory to thy death. 
 
 HYMN CCCIX. 
 
 An immediate attention to God's voice required. 
 Heb. iii. 1.5. 
 
 1 The Lord Jehovah calls, 
 Be every ear inclined ; 
 
 May such a voice awake each heart. 
 And captivate the mind. 
 
 2 If he in thunder speaks. 
 Earth trembles at his nod ; 
 
 But gentle accents here proclaim 
 The condescending God. 
 .3 O harden not your hearts, 
 But hear his voice to-day : 
 Lest, ere to-morrow's earliest dawn, 
 He call your souls away. 
 
 * Dreadful. + Arrow. 
 
 3 Y 
 
 Almighty God, pronounce 
 The word of conquering grace ; 
 So shall the flint dissolve to tears, 
 And scorners seek thy face. 
 
 HYMN CCCX. 
 The eternal sabbath. Heb. iv. 9. 
 
 1 Lord of the sabbath, hear our vows, 
 On this thy day, in this thy house : 
 And own, as grateful sacrifice, 
 
 The songs, which from the desert rise. 
 
 2 Thine earthly sabbaths, Lord, we love ; 
 But there's a nobler rest above ; 
 
 To that our labouring souls aspire 
 W ith ardent pangs of strong desire. 
 
 3 No more fatigue, no more distress ; 
 Nor sin nor hell shall reach the place ; 
 No groans to mingle with the songs. 
 Which warble from immortal tongues. 
 
 4 No rude alarms of raging foes ; 
 No cares to break the long repose ; 
 No midnight shade, no clouded sun, 
 But sacred, high, eternal noon. 
 
 6 O long-expected daj', begin ; 
 
 Dawn on these realms of woe and sin : 
 Fain would we leave this weary road, 
 And sleep in death to rest with God. 
 
 HYMN CCCXI. 
 
 Christ our forerunner, and the foundation of our 
 hope. Heb. vi. 19, 20. 
 
 1 Jesus the Lord our souls adore, 
 A painful sufferer now no more ; 
 High on his Father's throne he reigns 
 O'er earth, and heaven's extensive plains. 
 
 2 His race for ever is complete ; 
 For ever undisturbed his seat ; 
 Myriads of angels round him fly. 
 And sing his well-gained victory. 
 
 3 Yet, midst the honours of his throne, 
 He joys not for himself alone ; 
 
 His meanest servants share their part. 
 Share in that royal tender heart. 
 
 4 Rise, rise my soul, thy raptured sight, 
 With sacred wonder and delight ; 
 Jesus thy own forerunner see 
 Entered beyond the veil for thee. 
 
 .'> Loud let the howling tempest yell, 
 And foaming waves to mountains swell. 
 No shipwreck can my vessel fear. 
 Since hope hath fixed its anchor here. 
 
lOjK 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 HYMN CCCXn. 
 
 The evil conscience purified li/ the blood of Jesus. 
 Heb. 13, 14. 
 
 1 Blest be the Lamb, whose blood was spilt 
 To sprinkle conscience from its guilt ; 
 
 To ease its pains, to calm its fears. 
 And purchase grace for future years. 
 
 2 Cleansed by this all-atoning blood. 
 We joy in free access to God, 
 The living God, before whose face 
 Sinners in vain shall seek a place. 
 
 3 Rouse thee, my soul, to serve him still 
 With cordial love, with active zeal : 
 Serve him, like his own Son divine. 
 Who made his life the price of thine. 
 
 4 Blest Jesus, introduced by thee, 
 The Father's smiling face I see ; 
 And strengtliened by thy grace alone. 
 These grateful services are done. 
 
 5 Then must my debt from day to day 
 Grow with each service that I pay ; 
 So grows my joy, dear Lord, to be 
 Thus more and more in debt to thee. 
 
 HYMN CCCXIII. 
 Death and judt/ment appointed to all. Heb, ix. 27. 
 
 1 Heaven has confirmed the great decree, 
 
 That Adam's race must die : 
 One general ruin sweeps them down, 
 And low in dust they lie. 
 
 2 Ye living men, the tomb survey, 
 
 Where you must quickly dwell ; 
 Hark how the awful summons sounds 
 In every funeral knell ! 
 
 3 Once you must die, and once for all ; 
 
 The solemn purport weigh ; 
 For know that heaven and hell are hung 
 On that important day. 
 
 4 Those eyes, so long in darkness veiled. 
 
 Must wake the Judge to see. 
 And every word, and every thought 
 Must pass his scrutiny. 
 
 5 O may I in the Judge behold 
 
 My Saviour and my friend. 
 And far beyond the reach of death 
 With all his saints ascend. 
 
 HYMN CCCXIV. 
 
 Christ's second appearance, ^c. Heb. ix. 28. 
 
 1 Behold, the Son of God appears. 
 And in his flesh our sins lie bears ; 
 The victim at God's altar stood 
 To expiate guilt by groans and blood. 
 
 2 But lo, a second time he comes 
 
 To shake the earth and rend the tombs ; 
 These heavens before him melt away, 
 And sun and stars in smoke decay. 
 
 3 Yet 'midst tliis general wreck and dread, 
 Ye saints, with triumph lift the head ; 
 With glad surprise your Saviour meet. 
 Who comes to make your bliss complete. 
 
 4 My soul, a happiness so great 
 With pleasing expectation wait ; 
 And, while I dwell upon the thought, 
 Be earth and all its toys forgot. 
 
 5 My Saviour-God, what grace is thine. 
 Which gives a prospect so divine ! 
 Come blessed day, and teach our tongues 
 How angels warble out their songs. 
 
 HYMN CCCXV. 
 
 Liberty to enter through the veil by the blood 
 Christ. Heb. x. 19—22, 
 
 1 Approach, ye children of your God ; 
 
 Favourites of heaven, draw near ; 
 Enter the holiest with delight, 
 Though his own ark be there. 
 
 2 Pass through the veil, the Saviour's flesh. 
 
 That new and living way ; 
 And majesty enshrined * in love 
 Shall gentle beams display. 
 
 3 Jesus with sin-atoning blood 
 
 The throne hath sprinkled o'er ; 
 His fragrant incense spreads its cloud, 
 And justice flames no more. 
 
 4 Approach with boldness and with joy, 
 
 But spotless all draw near ; 
 Pure be your lives from every stain, 
 And every conscience clear. 
 
 5 So shall the blessings of his grace 
 
 On all your souls distil. 
 Till each a royal priest appears 
 On his celestial hill. 
 
 HYMN CCCXVI. 
 
 God's fidelity to his promises. Heb. x. 23. 
 
 1 The promises I sing. 
 Which sovereign love hath spoke ; 
 Nor will tlic eternal King 
 His words of grace revoke ; 
 
 Tlicy stand secure, 
 
 And stedfast still ; 
 
 Not Zion's hill 
 
 Abides so sure. 
 
 * Surrounded with and Eoftencd by. 
 
HEBREWS. 
 
 1059 
 
 2 The mountains melt away 
 When once the Judge appears, 
 And sun and moon decay, 
 That measure mortals' years ; 
 
 But still the same, 
 In radiant lines, 
 The promise shines 
 Through all the flame. 
 
 3 Their harmony shall sound 
 Through mine attentive ears, 
 When thunders cleave the ground, 
 And dissipate the spheres ; 
 
 'Midst all the shock 
 Of that dread scene, 
 I stand sei-ene, 
 Thy word my rock. 
 
 HYMN CCCXVII. 
 
 The day approaching, a motive to love ami worship. 
 Heb. X. 24, 25. 
 
 1 The day approacheth, O my soul, 
 
 The great decisive day, 
 Which from the verge of mortal life 
 Shall bear thee far away. 
 
 2 Another day more awful dawns ; 
 
 And lo, the Judge appears : 
 Ye heavens, retire before his face. 
 And sink, ye darkened stars. 
 
 3 Yet does one short preparing hour, 
 
 One precious hour, remain ; 
 Rouse thee, my soul, with all thy power, 
 Nor let it pass in vain. 
 
 4 With me my brethren soon must die, 
 
 And at that bar appear ; 
 Now be our intercourse improved 
 To mutual comfort here, 
 
 5 For this, thy temple, Lord, we throng ; 
 
 For this, thy board surround ; 
 Here may our service be approved, 
 And in thy presence crowned. 
 
 HYMN CCCXVIII. 
 
 Abraham's faith in leaving his country at the divine 
 command, Heb. xi. 8. 
 
 1 Now let our songs proclaim abroad 
 The unchanging name of Abram's God ; 
 
 In him let Abram's children boast. 
 Their Father's ever-living Lord, 
 His shield, his friend, his great reward. 
 
 Who never can deceive their trust. 
 
 2 Called by thy voice, with joyful speed 
 He went, where thou wast pleased to lead, 
 
 Unknowing in the path he trod ; 
 3 Y 2 
 
 His land, his kindred strove in vain, 
 The pious pilgrim to detain, 
 
 Propt on the promise of his God. 
 
 3 So at thy word the saint foregoes* 
 Each tender tie the nation knows, 
 
 And hears no other voice but thine ; 
 Marches where thou shalt point the way, 
 Where thou shalt pitch his tent will stay, 
 
 And learns his Isaac to resign. 
 
 4 At length, still faithful to thy own, 
 Thou callest him to a world unknown, 
 
 Through paths uulrod by mortal feet ; 
 Smiling, he owns thy voice in death, 
 Gives to the air his fleeting breath, 
 
 And finds the road to Abram's seat. 
 
 HYMN CCCXIX. 
 
 The God of the patriarchs preparing them a city. 
 Heb. xi. 16. 
 
 1 I AM thy God, Jehovah said. 
 
 To Abram, and his chosen seed ; 
 And still the same relation owns 
 To each of Abram's faithful sons. 
 
 2 Sovereign of heaven, what works of love 
 So grand a title shall approve ? 
 
 What splendid gifts will God bestow, 
 That all its high import may know ? 
 
 3 Not the rich flocks and herds that feed 
 Round Abram's tents in Mamre's mead ; 
 Not Joseph's chariot, nor the throne. 
 Ivory and gold, of Solomon. 
 
 4 Not Canaan's plains a lot can prove 
 Proportioned to Jehovah's love ; 
 Not Zion's sacred mountain, where 
 His temple glittered like a star. 
 
 5 O'er Zion's mount, o'er Canaan's plains. 
 Oppression now and horror reigns : 
 And, where the throne of David stood. 
 His ruined sepulchre is viewed. 
 
 6 'Tis in the heaven of heavens alone 
 
 Thou makest thy wondrous friendship known ; 
 A city there thy hand prepares, 
 Fixed as thy own eternal years. 
 
 7 Long as they reign before thy face, 
 The blissful nations shall confess, 
 Thy sovereign love has there bestowed 
 Salvation worthy of a God. 
 
 HYMN CCCXX. 
 Moses's wise choice. Heb. xi. 26. 
 
 1 My soul, with all thy wakened powers 
 Survey the heavenly prize ; 
 
 • Breaks tlirou^li. 
 
 II 
 
HYMNS. 
 
 Noi let tbesc sclittcring: toys of earth 
 Allure tliy wandering eyes. 
 
 2 The splendid crown, which Moses sought, 
 
 Still beams around his brow ; 
 Though soon great Pharaoh's sceptred pride 
 Was tatight by death to bow. 
 
 3 The joys and treasures of a'day 
 
 I cheerfully resign ; 
 Rich in that large immortal store, 
 Secured by grace divine. 
 
 4 Let fools my wiser choice deride, 
 
 Angels and God approve ; 
 Nor scorn of men, nor rage of hell, 
 My stedfast soul shall move. 
 
 5 With ardent eye that briglit reward 
 
 I daily will survey ; 
 And in the blooming prospect lose 
 The sorrows of the way. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXI. 
 Acting as seeing him who is invisible. Heb. xi. 27. 
 
 1 Eternal and immortal King, 
 
 Thy peerless * splendours none can bear. 
 But darkness veils seraphic eyes, 
 When God with all his lustre 's there. 
 
 2 Yet faith can pierce the awful gloom. 
 The great Invisible can see ; 
 
 And with its tremblings mingle joy 
 In fixed regards, great God, to thee. 
 
 3 Then every tempting form of sin. 
 Shamed in thy presence, disappears ! 
 And all the glowing raptured soul 
 The likeness it contemplates wears. 
 
 4 O ever-conscious to my heart, 
 Witness to its supreme desire. 
 Behold, it presseth on to thee, 
 
 For it hath caught the heavenly fire. 
 
 5 This one petition would it urge, 
 To bear thee ever in its sight ; 
 
 In life, in death, in worlds unknown, 
 Its only portion and delight. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXII. 
 
 Sithjcction to Goily the Father of our spirits. 
 Heb. xii. 9. 
 
 1 Eternal source of life and thought. 
 Be all beneath thyself forgot ; 
 Whilst thee, great parent-mind, we own 
 In prostrate homage round thy throne. 
 
 2 Whilst in themselves our souls survey 
 Of thee some faint reflected ray, 
 
 * Unequalled. 
 
 They wondering to their Father rise ; 
 
 His power how vast ! his thoughts how wise ! 
 
 S Behold us as thine offspring. Lord, 
 And do not cast us off abhorred ; 
 Nor let thy hand, so long our joy. 
 Be raised in vengeance to destroy. 
 
 4 O may we live before thy face. 
 The willing subjects of thy grace ; 
 And through each path of duty move 
 With filial awe, and filial love. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXIII. 
 The immutability of Christ. Heb. xiii. 8. 
 
 1 With transport, Lord, our souls proclaim 
 The immortal honours of thy name : 
 Assembled round our Saviour's throne. 
 We make his ceaseless glories known. 
 
 2 High on his Father's royal seat 
 Our Jesus shone divinely great. 
 
 Ere Adam's clay with life was warmed, 
 Or Gabriel's nobler spirit formed. 
 
 3 Through all succeeding ages he 
 
 The same hath been, the same shall be ; 
 Immortal radiance gilds his head, 
 While stars and suns wax old and fade. 
 
 4 The same his power liis flock to guard ; 
 The same his bounty to reward ; 
 
 The same his faithfulness and love 
 To saints on earth, and saints above. 
 
 5 Let nature change, and sink, and die ; 
 Jesus shall raise his chosen high. 
 And fix them near his stable throne. 
 In glory changeless as his own. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXIV. 
 
 Watching for souls in the view of the great accowntm 
 Heb. xiii. 17. 
 
 For the OriliiKition of a Minister. 
 
 1 Let Zion's watchmen all awake. 
 
 And take the alarm they give ; 
 Now let them from the mouth of God 
 Their solemn charge receive. 
 
 2 'Tis not a cause of small import 
 
 The pastor's care demands ; 
 But what might fill an angel's heart. 
 And filled a Saviour's hands. 
 
 3 They watch for souls, for which the Lord 
 
 Did heavenly bliss forego ; f 
 For souls which must for ever live 
 In raptures, or in woe. 
 
 4 All to the great tribunal haste. 
 
 The account to render there ; 
 
 + Forsake, lay asiitc. 
 
HEBREWS. JAMES. 
 
 1061 
 
 And shouldst thou strictly mark our faults, 
 
 Lord, how shall we appear ? 
 5 May they that Jesus, whom they preach, 
 
 Their own Redeemer see ; 
 And watch thou daily o'er their souls. 
 
 That they may watch for thee. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXV. 
 
 The Christian perfected by divine grace throuf/h 
 Christ. Heh. xiii. 20, 21. 
 
 1 Father of peace, and God of love. 
 
 We own thy power to save ! 
 That power, by which our Shepherd rose 
 Victorious o'er the grave. 
 
 2 We triumph in that Shepherd's name. 
 
 Still watchful for our good ; 
 Who brought the eternal covenant down, 
 And sealed it with his blood. 
 
 3 So may thy Spirit seal my soul, 
 
 And mould it to thy will ; 
 That my fond heart no more may stray. 
 But keep thy covenant still. 
 
 4 Still may we gain superior strength, 
 
 And press with vigour on, 
 Till full perfection crown our hopes, 
 And fix us near thy throne. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXVI. 
 
 Christians begotten to God as the first-fruits of his 
 creatures. James i. 18. 
 
 1 Now to that sovereign grace, 
 Whence all our comforts spring. 
 
 Let the whole new-begotten race 
 Their cheerful praises bring. 
 
 2 His will first mad« the choice ; 
 
 His word the change hath wrought ; 
 In him, our Father, we rejoice, 
 Nor be the name forgot. 
 
 3 Jjord, may this matchless love, 
 Which thy own children see. 
 
 Make us from all thy creatures prove 
 As the first-fruits to thee. 
 
 4 Sacred to thee alone 
 
 Be all these powers of mine ; 
 Then in the noblest sense my own. 
 When most entirely thine. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXVn. 
 
 Looking into the perfect law of liberty, and coti- 
 tinuing in it. James i. 25. 
 
 1 Behold the glass the gospel lends, 
 That men themselves may view : 
 How free from stain its surface is ! 
 How polished, and how true ! 
 
 2 Behold that wise, that perfect law, 
 
 Which noblest freedom gives ; 
 O may it all our souls refine. 
 And sanctify our lives ! 
 
 3 Not with a transient glance surveyed. 
 
 And in an hour forgot. 
 But deep inscribed on every heart, 
 To reign o'er every thought. 
 
 4 Great Author of each perfect gift. 
 
 Thy sovereign grace display. 
 That these rebellious roving powers 
 May hearken and obey. 
 
 5 Inspired by thee, our feeble souls 
 
 Shall pass victorious on ; 
 As the faint dawning light improves 
 To all the blaze of noon. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXVIII. 
 
 James's advice to sinners. James iv. 7, 8. 
 
 1 Ye sinners, bend your stubborn necks 
 
 Beneath the yoke divine ; 
 In low submission bow ye down 
 Before his sacred shrine. 
 
 2 In pious streams your follies mourn, 
 
 And seek his inj ured grace ; 
 And wait with broken bleeding hearts 
 The openings of his face. 
 
 3 Resist the tempter's fierce attacks. 
 
 And he shall speed his flight ; 
 Draw near to God, and his embrace 
 Shall fold you with delight. 
 
 4 Yc sinners, cleanse your spotted hands, 
 
 And purge your hearts from sin ; 
 Here fix your long-divided views. 
 And peace shall reign within. 
 
 5 Blest Saviour, draw us by thy love. 
 
 And fix us by thy power ; 
 When we have felt these sweet constraints, 
 Our souls shall rove no more. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXIX. 
 
 The vanity of worldly schemes inferred from the 
 uncertainty of life. James iv. 13 — 15. 
 
 1 To-morrow, Lord, is thine, 
 Lodged in thy sovereign hand ; 
 
 And if its sun arise and shine. 
 It shines by thy command. 
 
 2 The present moment flies, 
 And bears our life away ; 
 
 O make thy servants truly wise, 
 That they may live to-day. 
 
 3 Since on this winged hour 
 Eternity is bung. 
 
10G2 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 Waken by (liinc almif-hty power 
 
 The aged and tlic young. 
 ■1 One tliintf demands our care ; 
 
 O be it still pursued ! 
 Lest, slighted once, the season fair 
 
 Should never be renewed. 
 5 To Jesus may we fly 
 
 Swift as the morning light, 
 Lest life's young golden beams should die 
 
 In sudden endless night. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXX. 
 Rejoicing in «?i miseen Savionr. 1 Peter i. 8. 
 
 1 Mine inward joys, suppressed too long, 
 Ecstatic burst into a song ; 
 
 From Ciirist, though now unseen, they n'sc, 
 .ind reach his throne beyond the skies. 
 
 2 His glories strike the wondering sight 
 Of all the first-born sons of light, 
 Beyond the seraphim they shine. 
 Unrivalled all. and all divine. 
 
 3 Yet mortal worms his friendship ])oast. 
 And make his saving name their trust: 
 .lesus, my Loi-d, I know him well ; 
 
 He rescued me from death and hell. 
 
 4 This sinful heart from God estranged, 
 His new-creating power hath changed. 
 And, mingling with each secret thought. 
 Maintains the work, which first it wrought. 
 
 5 He gives to see his Father's face : 
 He gives my soul to thrive in grace ; 
 And Ijrings the views of glory down, 
 The beamings of my heavenly crown. 
 
 6 Thus entertained while here below 
 Unspeakable my transports grow ; 
 New joys in swift succession roll, 
 And glory fills my silent soul. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXI. 
 
 TJie heart purified to love unfeigned by the Spirit. 
 1 Peter i. 22. 
 
 1 Great Spirit of immortal love, 
 Vouchsafe our frozen hearts to move : 
 Witli ardour strong these breasts inflame 
 To all that own a Saviour's name. 
 
 2 Still let the heavenly fire endure 
 Fervent and vigorous, true and pure ; 
 Let every heart and every hand 
 
 Join in the dear fraternal band.* 
 .3 Celestial Dove, descend, and bring 
 The smiling blessings on thy wing ; 
 And make us taste those sweets below, 
 Which in the blissful mansions grow. 
 
 * Brotherly union. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXn. 
 Tasting that the Lord is gracious. 1 Peter ii. 3. 
 
 1 Y^ES, it is sweet to taste his grace, 
 
 Who bought us with his blood ; 
 My soul prefers the relish still, 
 To all created good. 
 
 2 O how I love that vital word 
 
 Which taught me first to live ! 
 Thirst for that uncorrupted milk, 
 That I may grow and thrive ! 
 
 3 All-gracious Lord, instruct us more 
 
 Thy saving gifts to know : 
 And let our inmost hearts rejoice, 
 That thou hast loved us so. 
 
 4 Open thy stores with liberal liand, 
 
 That we may daily feast ; 
 And let each dying soul around, 
 The sweet salvation taste. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXni. 
 Coming to Christ as a living stone. 1 Peter ii. 4, 5. 
 
 1 With ecstasy of joy 
 Extol his glorious name, 
 Who raised the spacious earth. 
 And raised our ruined frame ; 
 
 He built the church 
 Who built the sky. 
 Shout and exalt 
 His honours high. 
 
 2 See the foundation laid 
 By power and love divine ; 
 Jesus, bis first-born Son, 
 How bright his glories shine ! 
 
 How he descends ! 
 In dust he lies, 
 That from his tomb 
 A church might rise. 
 
 3 But he for ever lives, 
 Nor for himself alone ; 
 Each saint new light derives 
 From this mysterious stone ; 
 
 His influence darts 
 Through every soul, 
 And in one house 
 Unites the whole. 
 
 4 To him with joy we move ; 
 In him cemented stand ; 
 The living temple grows. 
 And owns the Founder's hand ; 
 
 That structure, Lord, 
 Still higher raise, 
 Louder to sound 
 Its Builder's praise. 
 
1 & 2 PETER. 
 
 1063 
 
 5 Descend and shed abroad 
 The tokens of thy grace, 
 And with more radiant beams 
 Let glory fill the place ; 
 
 Our joyful souls 
 
 Shall prostrate fall, 
 
 And own, our God 
 
 Is all in all. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXIV. 
 
 Christ the corner-stone. 1 Peter ii. 6. compared 
 with Isaiah xxviii. 16, 17. 
 
 1 Lord, dost thou show a corner-stone 
 For us to build our hopes upon. 
 That the fair edifice may rise 
 Sublime in light beyond the skies ? 
 
 2 We own the work of sovereign love, 
 
 Nor death nor hell those hopes shall move. 
 Which fixed on this foundation stand. 
 Laid by thy own almighty hand. 
 
 3 Thy people long this stone have tried, 
 And all the powers of hell defied ; 
 Floods of temptation beat in vain ; 
 Well doth this rock the house sustain. 
 
 4 When storms of wrath around prevail. 
 Whirlwind and thunder, fire and hail, 
 'Tis here our trembling souls shall hide, 
 And here securely they abide. 
 
 5 While they that scorn this precious stone. 
 Fond of some quicksand of their own. 
 Borne down by weighty vengeance die, 
 And buried deep in ruin lie. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXV. 
 Christ precious to the believer. 1 Peter ii. 7. 
 
 1 Jests, I love thy charming name, 
 
 'Tis music to mine ear ; 
 Fain would I sound it out so loud, 
 That earth and heaven should hear. 
 
 2 Yes, thou art precious to my soul, 
 
 My transport, and my trust ; 
 Jewels to thee are gaudy toys. 
 And gold is sordid dust. 
 
 3 All my capacious powers can wish 
 
 In thee doth richly meet : 
 Nor to mine eyes is light so dear, 
 Nor friendship half so sweet. 
 
 4 Thy grace still dwells upon my heart. 
 
 And sheds its fragrance there ; 
 The noblest balm of all its wounds. 
 The cordial of its care. 
 
 5 T 'II speak the honours of thy name 
 
 With my last labouring breath ; 
 Then speechless clasp thee in mine arms, 
 The antidote of death. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXVI. 
 
 Noah preserved in the arh, and the Iclievcr in Christ. 
 1 Pet. iii. 20, 21. 
 
 1 The deluge, at the Almighty's call. 
 In what impetuous streams it fell ! 
 Swallowed the mountains in its rage. 
 And swept a guilty world to hell. 
 
 2 In vain the tallest sons of pride 
 Fled from the close-pursuing wave ; 
 Nor could their mightiest towers defend. 
 Nor swiftness 'scape, nor courage save. 
 
 3 How dire the wreck ! how loud the roar ! 
 How shrill the universal cry 
 
 Of millions in the last despair. 
 Re-echoed from the lowering sky ! 
 
 4 Yet Noah, humble happy saint. 
 Surrounded with the chosen few. 
 Sat in his ark, secure from fear. 
 
 And sang the grace that steered him through. 
 
 5 So I may sing, in Jesus safe. 
 
 While storms of vengeance round me fall. 
 Conscious how high my hopes are fixed, 
 Beyond what shakes this earthly ball. 
 
 6 Enter thine ark, while patience waits. 
 Nor ever quit that sure retreat ; 
 
 Then the wide flood, which buries earth, 
 Shall waft thee to a fairer seat. 
 
 7 Nor wreck nor ruin there is seen ; 
 There not a wave of trouble rolls ; 
 
 But the bright rainbow round the throne* 
 Seals endless life to all their souls. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXVII. 
 
 The ungodly warned of their final appearance. 
 1 Pet. iv. 18. 
 
 1 Behold God's great incarnate Son 
 In majesty comes flying down : 
 Hark ! for his trumpet's awful sound 
 Awakes the dead, and cleaves the ground. 
 
 2 So solemn shall the judgment be. 
 And so severe the scrutiny, f 
 That. by his merit tried alone, 
 
 The saint himself would be undone. 
 
 3 Where then, ye sons of Belial, | where 
 Will your astonished souls appear? 
 How will ye shun his piercing sight? 
 Or how resist his matchless might? 
 
 4 Up to the pointed mountains fly. 
 And gain the confines^ of the sky ; 
 There shall ye meet celestial fire. 
 While mountains melt before his ire.|| 
 
 * Rev. iv. 3. + Examinalion. X Uebcllious men. 
 
 { Borders. II Anger. 
 
1001 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 5 Call on Ihe lendin"; earth to save, 
 And in its rentie scarcli a grave ; 
 The Judge shall well discern thee there, 
 And drag thee trembling to his bar. 
 
 G Deck thee around with fraud and lies, 
 And put on every fair disguise ; 
 Soon shall thy painted form be known 
 Amidst ten thousand of his own. 
 
 7 Gird thee in arms his wrath to oppose, 
 And league with millions of his foes ; 
 Soon would the rebel band expire 
 Like crackling thorns amidst the tire. 
 
 8 One only way may yet be found : 
 Submissive bow ye to the ground : 
 His cross a refuge will afford 
 From all the terrors of his sword. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXVin. 
 
 Humbling ourselves under God's mighty hand. 
 1 Peter v. 6. 
 
 1 Beneath thy mighty hand, O God, 
 
 Our souls we prostrate low ; 
 Shine forth with gentle radiant beams, 
 That we thy name may know. 
 
 2 Thy hand this various frame produced, 
 
 And still supports it well ; 
 That hand with justice and with ease 
 Might smite our souls to hell. 
 
 3 Conscious of meanness and of guilt, 
 
 We in the dust would lie ; 
 Stretch forth thy condescending arm. 
 And lift the humble high. 
 
 4 So in the temples of thy grace 
 
 We '11 sovereign mercy own, 
 And, when we shine above the stars, 
 
 Extol thy grace alone. 
 .5 The more thou raise such sinful dust, 
 
 The lower would it fall ; 
 For less than nothing, Lord, are we, 
 
 And thou art all in all. 
 
 HYMN CCCXXXIX. 
 
 That hand, which scatters grace abroad 
 To turn thy foes to sons of God. 
 
 4 But oh ! with what distracted rage 
 
 Have we presumed that hand to engage ! 
 And, while long patience hath been shown. 
 Struggled to force thy vengeance down. 
 
 5 Here might thy wrath begin to flame, 
 And vindicate thine injured name : 
 Till the red thunders of thy hand 
 Had dealt destruction round our land. 
 
 6 With humble hearts our God we meet : 
 
 0 raise the suppliants at thy feet ! 
 And let that glorious arm this day 
 Embrace the rebels it might slay. 
 
 HYMN CCCXL. 
 God's care a remedy for ours. 1 Peter v. 7. 
 
 1 How gentle God's commands ! 
 How kind his precepts are ! 
 
 " Come, cast your burthens on the Lord, 
 And trust his constant care." 
 
 2 While Providence supports. 
 Let saints securely dwell ; 
 
 That hand, which bears all nature up, 
 Shall guide his children well. 
 
 3 Why should this anxious load 
 Press down your weary mind ? 
 
 Haste to your heavenly Father's throne. 
 And sweet refreshment find. 
 
 4 His goodness stands approved 
 Down to the present day ; 
 
 1 '11 drop my burthen at his feet. 
 And bear a song away. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLI. 
 
 Establishment in religion from the God of all grace. 
 1 Peter v. 10, 11. 
 
 1 How rich thy favours, God of grace! 
 How various and divine ! 
 Full as the ocean they are poured. 
 
 And bright as heaven they shine. 
 He to eternal glory calls. 
 
 And leads the wondrous way. 
 To his own palace, where he reigns 
 
 In uncreated day. 
 Jesus, the herald of his love. 
 Displays the radiant prize. 
 And shows the purchase of his blood 
 
 To our admiring eyes. 
 He perfects what his hand begins. 
 
 And stone on stone he lays : 
 Till firm and fair the building rise, 
 A temple to his praise. 
 
 The same. 
 
 For a FasUday. 
 
 1 Our souls witU reverence, Lord, bow down, 
 Struck by the splendours of thy throne ; 
 Humbled, while in thy house we stand. 
 Beneath thy great tremendous hand. 
 
 2 That hand, which bears the steady pole. 
 While nature's wheels unwearied roll ; 
 That hand, which gives each creature food. 
 And fills the world with various good. 
 
 3 That hand which pierced thy darling Son 
 To expiate crimes, that we had done : 
 
2 PETER. 1 JOHN. 
 
 1065 
 
 5 The songs of everlasting years 
 That mercy shall attend, 
 Which leads, through sufferings of an hour. 
 To joys that never end. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLII. 
 
 The circumstances of Christ's second appearint/. 
 2 Peter iii. 11, 12. 
 
 1 My wakened soul, extend thy wings 
 Beyond the verge of mortal things ; 
 See this vain world in smoke decay, 
 And rocks and mountains melt away. 
 
 2 Behold the fiery deluge roll 
 
 Through heaven's wide arch from pole to pole : 
 Pale sun, no more thy lustre boast ; 
 Tremble and fall, ye starry host. 
 
 3 This wreck of nature all around. 
 
 The angel's shout, the trumpet's sound, 
 Loud the descending Judge proclaim. 
 And echo his tremendous name. 
 
 4 Children of Adam, all appear 
 With reverence round his awful bar ; 
 For, as his lips pronounce, ye go 
 
 To endless bliss, or endless woe. 
 a Lord, to mine eyes this scene display 
 Frequent through each revolving day, 
 And let thy grace my soul prepare 
 To meet its full redemption there. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLIII. 
 
 The importance of heiny prepared for Christ's second 
 appearance. 2 Peter iii. 14. 
 
 1 " Behold, I come, (the Saviour cries,) 
 
 With winged speed I come ; 
 My voice shall call your souls away 
 To their eternal home. 
 
 2 " Awake, ye sons of sloth, awake ; 
 
 Your vain amusements cease, 
 And strive with your united powers, 
 That ye be found in peace. 
 
 3 " Seize the blest hour with ardent haste, 
 
 Nor slight this peaceful word. 
 Lest your affrighted souls in vain 
 Fly from my flaming sword. 
 
 4 " Happy the man, whose ready heart 
 
 Obeys the sacred call ; 
 And shelters in my covenant grace 
 His everlasting all." 
 
 5 Blest Jesus, whose all-searching eye 
 
 My inmost powers can see. 
 Dost thou not know my willing soul 
 Hath lodged that all with thee? 
 G These eager eyes thy signal wait ; 
 My dear Redeemer, come : 
 
 I rove a weary pilgrim here. 
 And long to be at home. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLIV. 
 Growing in grace, Sfc. 2 Peter iii. 18. 
 
 1 Praise to thy name, eternal God, 
 For all the grace thou shed'st abroad ; 
 For all thine influence from above 
 
 To warm our souls with sacred love. 
 
 2 Blest be thy hand, which from the skies 
 Brought down this plant of Paradise, 
 And gave its heavenly glories birth, 
 
 To deck this wilderness of earth. 
 
 3 But why does that celestial flower 
 Open, and thrive, and shine no more ? 
 Where are its balmy odours fled ; 
 And why reclines its beauteous head ? 
 
 4 Too plain, alas ! the languor shows 
 The unkindly soil in which it grows ; 
 Where the black frosts and beating storm 
 Wither and rend its tender form. 
 
 5 Unchanging sun, thy beams display 
 To drive the frosts and storms away ; 
 Make all thy potent virtues known 
 To cheer a plant so much thy own. 
 
 6 And thou, blest Spirit, deign to blow 
 Fresh gales of heaven on shrubs below ; 
 So shall they grow and breathe abroad 
 A fragrance grateful to our God. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLV. 
 
 Experimental knowledge communicated, 
 1 John i. 1—3. 
 
 1 Jesi's, mine advocate above. 
 Let me not hear of thee alone, 
 But make the wonders of thy love 
 By deep experience sweetly known. 
 
 2 On tliee my soul would fix its eye ; 
 
 My lips would taste thy heavenly grace ; 
 Then would I raise thine honours high. 
 And teach a thousand tongues thy praise. 
 
 3 The sacred flame from heart to heart 
 Should with a rapid progress run ; 
 Till each in (Jod could boast his part. 
 Through sweet communion with his Son. 
 
 4 Thus may the servants of the Lord 
 Feel the salvation they proclaim ; 
 
 And thus may crowds receive the word, 
 And echo back the Saviour's name. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLVI. 
 
 Communion with God and Christ. 1 John i. 3. 
 
 1 Our heavenly Father calls, 
 And Christ invites us near ; 
 
106G 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 With bolli our friciulsliip shall be sweet, 
 And oui comiuiinion dear. 
 
 2 God pities all my griefs ; 
 
 He pardons every day ; 
 Almighty to protect niy soul, 
 And wise to guide my way. 
 
 3 How lart^e his bounties are ! 
 What various stores of good, 
 
 Diffused from my Redeemer's hand, 
 And purchased with his blood ! 
 
 4 Jesus, my living head, 
 
 I bless thy faithful care ; 
 Mine advocate before the throne, 
 And my forerunner there. 
 
 5 Here fix, my roving heart; 
 Here wait, my warmest love ; 
 
 Till the communion be complete 
 In nobler scenes above. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLVII. 
 
 The privileges of saints hy the Mood of Jesus. 
 1 John i. 7. 
 
 1 My various powers, awake 
 To sound redeeming grace ; 
 
 To him that washed us in his blood, 
 Ascribe eternal praise. 
 
 2 What though our guilt appears 
 Dyed in a crimson grain ? 
 
 The stream, that flows from Jesus' side, 
 Shall purge away the stain. 
 
 3 'Midst all our various forms 
 We in this centre meet ; 
 
 Our hearts cemented by his blood, 
 Shall taste communion sweet. 
 
 4 Then let us walk in light. 
 
 Like Christ, whose name we wear ; 
 And, as the pledge of endless bliss, 
 Our Father's image bear. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLVin. 
 
 The blood of Christ cleansing from all sin. 
 1 John i. 7. 
 
 1 My sins, alas! how foul the stains! 
 
 How deep, and oh ! how wide ! 
 O'er my polluted soul tlicy spread, 
 In double crimson dyed. 
 
 2 How shall I stand before that God, 
 
 In whose all-piercing sight 
 Some shades of darkness seem to veil 
 The purest sons of light ? 
 
 - 3 Where shall I wash these spots away, 
 And make ray nature clean. 
 
 Since drops of penitential grief 
 Are tinctured still with sin ? 
 
 4 Behold a torrent all divine 
 
 Flows from the Saviour's side. 
 And strangely bears a crystal stream 
 Amidst the purple tide. * 
 
 5 Here v/ill I bathe my spotted soul. 
 
 And make it pure and fair ; 
 Till not the eye of God discern 
 One foul pollution there 
 
 G Then, dre.st in robes of snowy white, 
 I '11 join the shining band. 
 And learn new anthems to the Lamb, 
 While round his throne we stand. 
 
 HYMN CCCXLIX. 
 Having the Son, and having life in him. 1 John v. 2. 
 
 1 O HAPPY Christian, who can boast, 
 
 " The Son of God is mine !" 
 Happy, though humbled in the dust ; 
 Rich in this gift divine. 
 
 2 He lives the life of heaven below, 
 
 And shall for ever live ; 
 Eternal streams from Christ shall flow, 
 And endless vigour give. 
 
 3 That life we ask with bended knee. 
 
 Nor will the Lord deny ; 
 Nor will celestial mercy see 
 Its humble suppliants die. 
 
 4 That life obtained, for praise alone 
 
 We wish continued breatli ; 
 And taught by blest experience, own 
 That praise can live in death. 
 
 HYMN CCCL. 
 
 Christ the first and the last, humbled to death, and 
 exalted to an eternal triumph over it. Rev. i. 17, 18. 
 
 1 What mysteries, Lord, in thee combine ! 
 Jesus, once mortal, yet divine ; 
 
 The first, the last; the end, the head ; 
 The source of life among the dead. 
 
 2 O love, beyond the stretch of thought ! 
 What matchless wonders hath it wrought ! 
 My faith, while she the grace declares. 
 Trembles beneath the load she bears. 
 
 3 Hail, royal Conqueror o'er the grave. 
 Tender to pity, strong to save ! 
 
 For ever live, for ever reign. 
 
 And prosperous may thy throne remain ! 
 
 4 Thy saints, obedient to thy word. 
 With humble joy surround thy board ; 
 
 * Referring to the blood and water that came out of Christ's wound- 
 ed side. John xix. 34. 
 
REVELATION. 
 
 1067 
 
 And, long as time pursues its race, 
 Proclaim thy death, and shout thy grace. 
 
 5 In the fall choir, where angels join 
 Their harps of melody divine, 
 Thy death inspires a song of praise, 
 New through thy life's eternal days. 
 
 HYMN CCCLI. 
 
 The keys of death and the unseen world in Christ's 
 hand. Rev. i. 18. 
 
 1 Hail to the Prince of life and peace, 
 Who holds the keys of death and hell ! 
 The spacious world unseen is his, 
 
 And sovereign power becomes him well. 
 
 2 In shame and torment once he died ; 
 But now he lives for evermore : 
 
 Bow down, ye saints, around his seat, 
 And, all ye angel bands, adore. 
 
 3 So live for ever, glorious Lord, 
 
 To crush thy foes, and guard thy friends ; 
 While all thy chosen tribes rejoice 
 That thy dominion never ends. 
 
 4 Worthy thy hand to hold the keys. 
 Guided by wisdom, and by love ; 
 Worthy to rule o'er mortal life. 
 O'er worlds below, and worlds above. 
 
 5 When death thy servants shall invade, 
 When powers of hell thy church annoy. 
 Controlled by thee, their rage shall help 
 The cause they laboured to destroy. 
 
 6 For ever reign, victorious King: 
 
 Wide through the earth thy name be known ; 
 And call my longing soul to sing 
 Sublimer anthems near thy throne. 
 
 HYMN CCCLII. 
 Christ's care of ministers and churches. Rev. ii. 1. 
 
 1 We bless the eternal source of light, 
 
 Who makes the stars to shine ; 
 And, through this dark beclouded world, 
 DilTuseth rays divine. 
 
 2 We bless the churches' sovereign King, 
 
 Whose golden lamps we are ; 
 Fixed in the temples of his love 
 To shine with radiance fair. 
 
 3 Still be our purity preserved ; 
 
 Still fed with oil the flame; 
 And in deep characters inscribed 
 Our heavenly Master's name. 
 
 4 Then, while between our ranks he walks, 
 
 And all our state surveys. 
 His smiles shall with new lustre deck 
 The people of his praise. 
 
 HYMN CCCLIII. 
 
 The Christian warrior animated and crowned. 
 Rev. ii. 10. 
 
 1 Hark! 'tis our heavenly Leader's voice 
 
 From his triumphant seat : 
 'Midst all the war's tumultuous noise. 
 How powerful and how sweet ! 
 
 2 "Fight on, my faithful band, (he cries,) 
 
 Nor fear the mortal blow ! 
 Who first in such a warfare dies 
 Shall speediest victory know. 
 
 3 " I have my days of combat known. 
 
 And in the dust was laid ; 
 But thence I mounted to my throne. 
 And glory crowns my head. 
 
 4 " That throne, that glory you shall share ; 
 
 My hands the crown shall give ; 
 And you the sparkling honours wear, 
 While God himself shall live." 
 
 5 Lord, 'tis enough ; our bosoms glow 
 
 With courage, and with love : 
 Thy hand shall bear thy soldiers through. 
 And raise their heads above. 
 
 6 My soul, while death beset me round, 
 
 Erects her ardent eyes. 
 And longs, through some illustrious wound. 
 To rush and seize the prize. 
 
 HYMN CCCLIV. 
 
 The pillar in God's heavenly temple, with its 
 inscription. Rev. iii. 12. 
 
 1 All-hail, victorious Saviour, hail ! 
 
 I bow to thy command ; 
 And own, that David's royal key 
 Well fits thy sovereign hand ! 
 
 2 Open the treasures of thy love, 
 
 And shed thy gifts abroad ; 
 Unveil to my rejoicing eyes 
 The temple of my God. 
 
 3 There as a pillar let me stand 
 
 On an eternal base ;* 
 Upreared by thine almighty hand. 
 And polished by thy grace. 
 
 4 There deep engraven let me bear 
 
 The title of my God ; 
 And mark the New Jerusalem, 
 As my secure abode. 
 
 .0 In lasting characters inscribe 
 Tliy own beloved name. 
 That endless ages there may read 
 The great Emanuel's claim. 
 
1068 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 G Lead on, niv General ; I defy 
 What eaitli or hell ean do ; 
 Thy conduct, and (his glorious hope, 
 Shall bear thy soldier through. 
 
 HYMN CCCLV. 
 
 God's covenant unchangeahle ; or, The rahiboiv round 
 about the throtie. Rev. iv. 3. compared w^th Gen. 
 ix. 13—17. 
 
 1 Supreme of beings, with delight 
 Our eyes survey this heavenly sight ; 
 And traee witli admiration sweet 
 Tlie beaming splendours of thy feet. 
 
 2 Jasper and sapphire strive in vain 
 To paint the glories of thy train ; 
 Thy robes all stream eternal light, 
 Too powerful for a eherub's sight. 
 
 3 Yet round thy throne the rainbow shines, 
 Fair emblem of thy kind designs ; 
 
 Bright pledge, that speaks thy covenant sure 
 Long as thy kingdom shall endure. 
 
 4 No more shall deluges of woe 
 Thy new-created world o'crllow ; 
 Jesus, our sun, his beams displays, 
 
 And gilds the clouds with beauteous rays. 
 
 5 No gems so bright, no forms so fair; 
 Mercy and truth shall triumph there : 
 Thy saints shall bless the peaceful sign. 
 When stars and suns forget to shine. 
 
 6 E'en here, while storms, and gloomy shade, 
 And horrors, all the scene o'crspread. 
 Faith views the throne with piercing eye. 
 And boasts the rainbow still is high. 
 
 HYMN CCCLVI. 
 
 Victory over Satan hy ihe blood of the Lamb, and the 
 word of the testimony of his servants. Rev. xii. 11. 
 
 1 See the old dragon from his throne 
 Sink with enormous ruin down 1 
 Banished from heaven, and doomed to dwell 
 Deep in the fiery gloom of hell ! 
 
 2 Ye heavens, with all your hosts, rejoice : 
 Ye saints, in concert lend your voice : 
 Approach your Lord's victorious seat. 
 And tread the foe beneath your feet, 
 
 3 But whence a conquest so divine 
 Gained by such feeble hands as mine? 
 Or whence can sinful mortals boast 
 O'er Satan and his rebel-host ? 
 
 4 'Twas from thy blood, thou slaughtered Lamb, 
 That all our palms and triumphs came ; 
 
 Thy cross, thy spear, inflicts the stroke, 
 By which the monster's head is broke. 
 5 Thy faithful word our hope maintains 
 Through all our combat and our pains; 
 The accents of thy heavenly breath 
 Thy soldiers bear through wounds and death. 
 
 G Triumphant Lamb, in worlds unknown. 
 With transport round thy radiant throne, 
 Thy happy legions, all complete. 
 Shall lay their laurels at thy feet. 
 
 HYMN CCCLVIL 
 The song of Moses and the Lamb. Rev. xv. 3. 
 
 1 Israel, the tribute bring 
 To God's victorious name ; 
 The song of Moses sing. 
 Of Moses and the Lamb : 
 
 Improve his lays ; * 
 The theme exceeds, 
 And nobler deeds 
 Demand our praise. 
 
 2 The prince of hell arose 
 Willi impious rage and pride, 
 And 'midst our numerous foes 
 Our feeble power defied ; 
 
 " I will o'ertake. 
 And I destroy. 
 My hand with joy 
 Shall force thee back." 
 
 3 Thy hand. Almighty Lord, 
 Thy trembling Israel saves ; 
 Thine unresisted word 
 Divides the threatening waves : 
 
 Thy hosts pass o'er ; 
 The foe o'eilhrown 
 Sinks like a stone. 
 To rise no more. 
 
 4 Our triumphs we prepare, 
 And cheerful anthems raise; 
 Jehovah's arm made bare 
 Demands immortal praise ; 
 
 And while wc sing. 
 Ye shores, proclaim 
 His wondrous name, 
 Ye deserts, ring. 
 
 5 Through all the wilderness 
 Thy presence, Lord, shall lead ; 
 And bring us to the place, 
 Thy sovereign love decreed ; 
 
 Those blissful plains. 
 Where all around 
 Hosannas sound. 
 And transport reigns. 
 
 ♦ Songs of praise. 
 
REVELATION. 
 
 1069 
 
 HYMN CCCLVIII. 
 
 The conquest of death and grief hy vieivs of the 
 heavenly state. Rev. xxi. 4. 
 
 1 Lift up, ye saints, your weeping eyes, 
 Suspend your sorrows and your sighs ; 
 Turn all your groans to joyful songs, 
 Which Jesus dictates to your tongues. 
 
 2 Thus saith the Saviour from his throne, 
 " Behold all former things are gone. 
 Past like an anxious dream away. 
 Chased by the golden beams of day. 
 
 3 " See in celestial pomp arrayed 
 A new-created world displayed ; 
 
 Mark with what light its prospects shine ! 
 How grand, how various, how divine ! 
 
 4 " There my own gentle hand shall dry 
 Each tear from each o'erflowing eye. 
 And open wide my friendly breast 
 
 To lull the weary soul to rest. 
 
 5 " No more shall grief assail your heart, 
 No boding fear, no piercing smart ; 
 For ever there my people dwell 
 Beyond the range of death and hell." 
 
 6 Vain king of terrors, boast no more 
 Thine ancient wide-extended power ; 
 Each saint in life with Christ his head 
 Shall reign, when thou thyself art dead. 
 
 HYMN CCCLIX. 
 
 Christ, the root and offspring of David, and the 
 morning star. Rev. xxii. 16. 
 
 1 All-hail, mysterious King ! 
 Hail, David's ancient root ! 
 
 Thou righteous branch, which thence didst spring 
 To give the nations fruit. 
 
 2 Our weary souls shall rest 
 Beneath thy grateful shade ; 
 
 Our thirsting lips salvation taste; 
 Our fainting hearts are glad. 
 
 3 Fair morning star arise. 
 With living glories bright. 
 
 And pour on these awakening eyes, 
 A flood of sacred light. 
 
 4 The horrid gloom is fled, 
 Pierced by thy beauteous ray ; 
 
 Shine, and our wandering footsteps lead 
 To everlasting day. 
 
 HYMN CCCLX. 
 
 Christ's invitation echoed hack, ^c. Rev. xxii. 17. 
 
 1 How free the fountain flows 
 Of endless life and joy ! 
 
 That spring, which no confinement knows, 
 Whose waters never cloy ! 
 
 2 How sweet the accents sound 
 From the Redeemer's tongue ! 
 
 " Assemble all ye nations round. 
 In one obedient throng. 
 
 3 " The Spirit bears the call 
 To all the distant lands ; 
 
 The church, the bride, reflects it back, 
 While Jesus waiting stands. 
 
 4 " Ho, every thirsty soul, 
 Approach the sacred spring ; 
 
 Drink, and your fainting spirits cheer ; 
 Renew the draught, and sing. 
 
 5 " Let all that will approach ; 
 The water freely take ; 
 
 Free from my opening heart it flows 
 Your raging thirst to slake." 
 
 6 With thankful hearts we come 
 To taste the offered grace ; 
 
 And call on all that hear to join 
 The trial and the praise. , 
 
 HYMN CCCLXI. 
 
 The Christian rejoicing in the views of death and 
 judgment. Rev. xxii. 20. 
 
 1 " Bp.hold I come, (the Saviour cries,) 
 
 On wings of love I fly :" 
 So come, dear Lord, (my soul replies,) 
 And bring salvation nigh. 
 
 2 Come, loose these bonds of flesh and sin ; 
 
 Come, end my pains and cares ; 
 Bear me to thy serene abode 
 Beyond the clouds and stars. 
 
 3 I greet the messengers of death, 
 
 By which thou callest me home ; 
 But doubly greet that joyful hour, 
 When thou thyself shalt come. 
 
 4 Come, plead thy Father's injured cause, 
 
 And make thy glory shine ; 
 Come, rouse thy servants' mouldering dust. 
 And their whole frame refine. 
 
 5 O come amidst the angelic hosts, 
 
 Their humble name to own, 
 And bear the full assembly back 
 To dwell around thy throne. 
 
 6 With winged speed, Redeemer dear, 
 
 Bring on the illustrious day: 
 Come, lest our spirits droop and faint 
 Beneath thy long delay. 
 
HYMNS 
 
 ON 
 
 PARTICULAR OCCASIONS, AND IN UNCOMMON MEASURES. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXII. 
 
 A Morniny Hymn, to he used at awahing and risiny. 
 
 1 Awake, my soul, to meet the day; 
 
 Unfold thy drowsy eyes. 
 And burst the ponderous chain that loads 
 Thine active faculties. 
 
 2 God's guardian shield was round me spread 
 
 In my defenceless sleep: 
 Let him have all my waking hours, 
 Who doth my slumbers keep. 
 
 3 [The work of each immortal soul 
 
 Attentive care demands; 
 Think then what painful labours wait 
 The faithful pastor's hands.] 
 
 4 My moments fly with winged pace, 
 
 And swift my hours are hurled ; 
 And death w ith rapid march comes on 
 To unveil the eternal world. 
 
 5 I for this hour must give account 
 
 Before God's awful throne : 
 Let not this hour neglected pass. 
 
 As thousands more have done. 
 G Pardon, O God, my former sloth. 
 
 And arm my soul with grace ; 
 As, rising now, I seal my vows 
 
 To prosecute thy ways. 
 7 Bright sun of righteousness, arise ; 
 
 Thy radiant beams display, 
 And guide my dark bewildered soul 
 
 To everlasting day. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXin. 
 
 An Evening Hymn, to he used when composing one's 
 self to sleep. 
 
 I. 
 
 Interval of grateful shade. 
 Welcome to my weary head ! 
 
 Welcome slumbers to mine eyes, 
 Tired with glaring vanities ! 
 My great Master still allows 
 Needful periods of repose : 
 By my heavenly Father blest. 
 Thus I give my powers to rest ; 
 Heavenly Father ! gracious name ! 
 Night and day his love the same ; 
 Far be each suspicious thought, 
 Every anxious care forgot : 
 Thou, my ever-bounteous God, 
 Crownest my daj's with various good 
 Thy kind eye, that cannot sleep. 
 These defenceless hours shall keep ; 
 Blest vicissitude to me ! 
 Day and night I 'ra still with thee. 
 
 II. 
 
 What though downy slumbers flee, 
 Strangers to my couch and me ? 
 Sleepless, well I kuow to rest, 
 Lodged within my Father's breast. 
 While the empress of the night 
 Scatters mild her silver light : 
 While the vivid planets stray 
 Various through their mystic way ; 
 While the stars unnumbered roll 
 Round the ever-constant pole ; 
 Far above these spangled skies 
 All my soul to God shall rise ; 
 'Midst the silence of the night 
 Mingling w ith those angels bright. 
 Whose harmonious voices raise 
 Ceaseless love and ceaseless praise : 
 Through the throng his gentle ear 
 Shall my tuneless accents hear : 
 From on high doth he impart 
 Secret comfort to my heart. 
 He in these serencst hours 
 Guides my intellectual powers, 
 
ON PARTICULAR OCCASIONS. 
 
 1071 
 
 And his Spirit doth diffuse, 
 Sweeter far than midnight dews ; 
 Lifting all my thoughts above, 
 On the wings of faith and love. 
 Blest alternative to me. 
 Thus to sleep, or wake, with thee ! 
 
 III. 
 
 What if death my sleep invade ? 
 Should I be of death afraid ? 
 Whilst encircled by thine arm, 
 Death may strike, but cannot harm. 
 What if beams of opening day 
 Shine around my breathless clay? 
 Brighter visions from on high 
 Shall regale my mental eye. 
 Tender friends awhile may mourn 
 Me from their embraces torn ; 
 Dearer, better friends I have 
 In the realms beyond the grave. 
 See the guardian angels nigh 
 Wait to waft my soul on high ! 
 See the golden gates displayed ! 
 See the crown to grace my head ! 
 See a flood of sacred light, 
 Which no more shall yield to night ! 
 Transitory world, farewell ! 
 Jesus calls, with him to dwell. 
 With thy heavenly presence blest. 
 Death is life, and labour rest. 
 Welcome sleep or death to me. 
 Still secure, for still with thee. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXIV. 
 
 hi recovery from sicluiess, (hiring which much of the 
 divine favour had been experienced. 
 
 1 My God, thy service well demands 
 
 The ren-.nant of my days ; 
 Why was this fleeting breath renewed. 
 But to renew thy praise ? 
 
 2 Thine arms of everlasting love 
 
 Did this weak frame sustain. 
 When life was hovering o'er the grave, 
 And nature sunk with pain. 
 
 3 Thou, when the pains of death were felt, 
 
 Didst chase the fears of hell ; 
 And teach my pale and quivering lips 
 Thy matchless grace to tell. 
 
 4 Calmly I bowed my fainting head 
 
 On thy dear faithful breast; 
 Pleased to obey my Father's call 
 To his eternal rest. 
 
 5 Into thy hands, my Saviour-God, 
 
 Did I my soul resign, 
 
 In firm dependence on that truth, 
 Which made salvation mine. 
 
 6 Back from the borders of the grave 
 
 At thy command I come : 
 Nor would I urge a speedier flight 
 To niy celestial home. 
 
 7 Where thou determin'st mine abode. 
 
 There would I choose to be ; 
 For in thy presence death is life, 
 And earth is heaven with thee. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXV. 
 The last words of David. 2 Sam. xxiii. 1 — 8.* 
 
 1 Thus hath the son of Jesse said, 
 When Israel's God had raised his head 
 
 To high imperial sway : 
 Struck with his last poetic fire, 
 Zion's sweet psalmist tuned his lyre 
 
 To this harmonious lay. 
 
 2 Thus dictates Israel's sacred Rock ; 
 Thus hath the God of Jacob spoke 
 
 By my responsive tongue : 
 Behold the Just One over men 
 Commencing his religious reign, 
 
 Great subject of my song ! 
 
 3 So gently shines, with genial ray, 
 The unclouded lamp of rising day, 
 
 And cheers the tender flowers, 
 When midnight's soft diffusive rain 
 Hath blessed the gardens and the plain 
 
 With kind refreshing showers. 
 
 4 Shall not my house this honour boast ? 
 My soul the eternal covenant trust, 
 
 Well ordered still and sure ? 
 There all my hopes and wishes meet ; 
 In death I call its blessings sweet. 
 
 And feel its bond secure. 
 
 5 The sons of Belial shall not spring, 
 Who spurn at heaven's appointed King, 
 
 And scorn his high command : 
 Though wide the briers infest the ground. 
 And the sharp pointed thorns around 
 
 Defy a tender hand. 
 
 6 A dreadful Warrior shall appear 
 With iron arms, and massy spear, 
 
 And tear them from their place : 
 Touched with the lightning of his ire. 
 At once they kindle into fire, 
 
 And vanish in the blaze. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXVL 
 A Military Ode. Psalm cxlix. 
 Probably composed by David to be sung when his 
 army was marching out to rvar against the rem- 
 
 * Agreeable to llie ingenious metrical version of the learned Dr. 
 Richard Grey. 
 
107-2 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 nant of the devoted nations of Canaan, and first 
 went up in solemn procession to the house of Hod 
 at Jerusalem, there, as it were, to consecrate the 
 arms which he put into their hands. The beds 
 referred to, verse 5, were probably the couches, on 
 which thctj lay at the banquet attendiny their sacri- 
 Jiccs ; which gives a noble sense to a passage, on 
 any other interpretation hardly intelligible. 
 
 1 O PRAISE ye the Lord, prepare a new song, 
 And let all his saints in full concert join : 
 Ye tribes all assemble the feast to prolong. 
 In solemn procession witli music divine. 
 
 2 O Israel, in him that made thee rejoice ; 
 Let all Zion's sons exult in their King ; 
 While to martial dances you join a glad voice. 
 Your lutes, harps, and timbrels in harmony bring. 
 
 3 Tlic Lord in his saints still finds his delight ; 
 Salvation from him the meek shall adorn ; 
 They well may be joyful, sustained by his miglit, 
 And crowned by his favour may lift up their horn. 
 
 4 Let carpets be spread, and banquets prepared 
 Those altars around, whence incense ascends ; 
 Whilst anthems of glory thro' Salem are heard. 
 And God, whom we worship, indulgent attends, 
 
 6 Then as your hearts bound with music and wine. 
 Inspired by the God, who reigns in the place ; 
 Unsheath all your weapons, and bright let them 
 sliine, 
 
 And brandish your faulchions, while chaunting 
 his praise. 
 
 6 Then march to the field ; the heathen defy ; 
 And scatter his wrath on nations around : 
 
 Like angels of vengeance your sword lift on high. 
 And boast that J ehovah commissions the wound. 
 
 7 Their generalssubdued your triumphs shall grace. 
 And loaded with chains their kings shall be 
 
 brought ; 
 
 On the necks shall ye trample of Canaan's proud 
 race, 
 
 And all their last remnant for slaughter be sought. 
 
 8 No rage of your own such rigour demands ; 
 A sentence divine your arms must fulfil : 
 
 Of old he this vengeance consigned to your hands, 
 And in sacred volumes recorded his will. 
 
 9 This honour, ye saints, appointed for you, 
 All-grateful receive, and faithful obey ; 
 
 And, while this dread pleasure resistless ye do, 
 Still make his high praises the song of the day. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXVII. 
 
 For the Thanksgiving-day for the Peace, April 2.5, 
 1749. 
 
 I Now letonr songs address the God of peace. 
 Who bids the tumult of the battle cease : 
 
 The pointed spears fo pruning-hooks he bends, 
 And the broad faulchion in the ploughshare ends. 
 His powerful world unites contending nations 
 In kind embrace, and friendly salutations. 
 
 2 Britain, adore the Guardian of thy state; 
 Who, high on his celestial throne elate, 
 Still watchful o'er thy safety and repose, 
 Frowned on the counsels of tliy haughtiest foes ; 
 
 Thy coast secured from every dire invasion 
 Of fire and sword, and spreading desolation. 
 
 3 When rebel-bands with desperate madness joined. 
 He wafted o'er deliverance with his wind ; 
 Drove back the tide that deluged half our land, 
 And curbed their fury with his mightier hand : 
 
 Till dreadful slaughter, and the last confusion, 
 Taught those audacious sinners their delusion. 
 
 4 He gave our fleets to triumph o'er the main. 
 And scatter terrors 'cross wide ocean's plain : 
 Opposing leaders trembled at the sight, 
 
 Nor found their safety in the attempted flight ; 
 Taught by their bonds how vainly they pretended 
 Those to distress, whom Israel's God defended. 
 
 5 Fierce storms were summoned up in Britain's aid, 
 And meagre famine hostile lands o'erspread ; 
 By sufferings bowed their conquests they release, 
 Nor scorn the overtures of equal peace : 
 
 Contending powers congratulate the blessing, 
 Joint hymns of gratitude to Iieaven addressing. 
 
 6 While we beneath our vines and fig-trees sit, 
 Or thus within thy sacred temple meet. 
 Accept, great God, the tribute of our song. 
 And all the mercies of this day prolong. 
 
 Then spread thy peaceful word through every nation, 
 That all the earth may hail thy great salvation. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXVIII. 
 
 The blessing pronounced upon Israel by the jjriests. 
 Numb. vi. 24—27. 
 
 For Ncw.year s Day. 
 
 1 Guardian of Israel, source of peace. 
 Who hast ordained thy priests to bless, 
 Shine forth as our propitious Lord, 
 And verify thy servants' word. 
 
 2 Let thy own power defend us still 
 Througli all the year from every ill ; 
 And let the splendour of thy face 
 Cheer all its bright or gloomy days. 
 
 3 Thy countenance our souls would see. 
 For all our joys unite in thee ; 
 
 And peace still waits at thy command 
 To calm our hearts, and bless our land. 
 
 4 Hear, while thy priests address their vows, 
 And scatter blessings through thy house ; 
 
ON PARTICULAR OCCASIONS. 
 
 1073 
 
 And, while lliey fall, may Israel raise 
 Its pious songs of ardent praise. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXIX. 
 
 A hymn for a Fast-day in time of war. Deut. xxiii. 9. 
 
 1 Great God of heaven and nature, rise, 
 And hear our loud united cries : 
 
 See Britain bow before thy face 
 
 Through all her coasts, and seek thy grace. 
 
 2 No arm of flesh we make our trust ; 
 
 Nor sword, nor horse, nor ships we boast : 
 Thine is the land, and thine the main. 
 And human force and skill is vain. 
 
 3 Our guilt might draw thy vengeance down 
 On every shore, on every town ; 
 
 But view us, Lord, with pitying eye, 
 And lay thy lifted thunder by. 
 
 4 Forgive the follies of our times, 
 
 And purge our land from all its crimes ; 
 Reformed and decked with grace divine, 
 Let princes, priests, and people shine. 
 
 5 O may no God-provoking sin 
 Through all our camps and navies reign ; 
 No foul reproach, to drive from thence 
 Our surest glory and defence. 
 
 6 So shall our God delight to bless, 
 
 And crown our arms with wide success : 
 Our foes shall dread Jehovah's sword ; 
 And conquering Britain shout the Lord. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXX. 
 
 Jahez's prayer recommended to youth. 1 Chron. 
 iv. 9, 10. 
 
 1 Thoij God of Jabez, hear, 
 While we entreat thy grace. 
 
 And borrow that expressive prayer. 
 With which he sought thy face. 
 
 2 " O that the Lord indeed 
 Would me his servant bless, 
 
 From every evil shield my head. 
 And crown my path with peace ! 
 
 3 " Be his Almighty hand 
 My helper and my guide, 
 
 Till, with his saints in Canaan's land, 
 My portion he divide." 
 
 4 Thus pious Jabez prayed. 
 While God inclined his ear; 
 
 And all, by whom his suit is made. 
 Shall find the blessing near. 
 
 3 z 
 
 .5 Ye youths, your vows combine. 
 With loud united voice ; 
 So shall your heads with honour shine. 
 And all your hearts rejoice. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXXI. 
 
 Manasseh's affliction, penitence, and restoration. 
 2 Chron. xxxiii. 10—12. 
 
 1 God of Manasseh, w ilt thou scorn 
 
 To own that humble name. 
 While sinners, so remote as we. 
 Thy grace to him proclaim? 
 
 2 High raised on Judah's throne he seemed, 
 
 That hell in him might reign ; 
 And taught thy sacred name to know 
 Its honours to profane. 
 
 3 Yet thou the royal wretch didst view 
 
 With pity in thine eyes : 
 How strange a cure tliy mercy wrought ! 
 How wondrous, yet how wise! 
 
 4 Caught in the thorns by hostile hands. 
 
 The captive learned to reign ; 
 And Babel's fetter^ set him free 
 From Satan's heavier chain. 
 
 5 From the deep dungeon where he lay. 
 
 Thou heard'st his doleful cry ; 
 Didst raise the suppliant from the dust. 
 And bring salvation nigh. 
 
 6 Our souls, depraved and hard like his. 
 
 May grace exert its power ; 
 And they shall bless the wholesome smart, 
 That works the sovereign cure. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXXII. 
 
 A church seeking direction from God in the choice of 
 a pastor. Ezra viii. 21. 
 
 1 Shepherd of Israel, bend thine ear. 
 Thy servant's groans indulgent hear; 
 Perplexed, distressed, to thee we cry. 
 And seek the guidance of thine eye. 
 
 2 Thy comprehensive view surveys 
 
 Our wandering paths, our trackless ways ; 
 Send forth, O Lord, thy truth and light, 
 To guide our doubtful footsteps right. 
 
 3 With longing eyes, behold, we wait 
 In suppliant crowds at mercy's gate : 
 Our drooping hearts, O God, sustain : 
 Shall Israel seek thy face in vain ? 
 
 4 O Lord, in ways of peace return. 
 Nor let thy Hock neglected mourn ; 
 May our blest eyes a shcplierd see, 
 Dear to our souls, and dear to thee. 
 
1071 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 0 Fed l>j' liis oiiro, our tongues shall raise 
 A cheerful tribute to thy praise ; 
 
 Our ehildren learn the grateful song, 
 And theirs the cheerful notes prolong. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXXin. 
 
 Divine condemnation deprecated, and instruction de- 
 sired, by the a fflicted. Job x. 2. 
 
 1 Tremendous Judge, before thy bar, 
 What human creature can be clear? 
 An arm so strong, an eye so pure 
 Who can escape, or who endure. 
 
 2 " Do not condemn us, Lord," we cry. 
 As trembling in the dust we lie ; 
 
 But, while with grief our guilt we own. 
 Let smiling mercy take the throne. 
 
 3 If thou wilt smite, olTended God, 
 Sheathe up thy sword, and take thy rod, 
 And, 'midst the anguish and the smart. 
 Open to discipline our heart. 
 
 4 By chastening if our souls be taught. 
 And cleansed from eve^ secret fault, 
 The wise severity we '11 bless, 
 
 And mix our groans with songs of praise. 
 
 HYMN CCCLXXIV. 
 
 Thanksgiving for national deliverance, and improve- 
 ment of it. Luke i. 74, 75. 
 
 1 Salvation doth to Gcd belong; 
 
 His power and grace shall be our song ; 
 His hand hath dealt a secret blow, 
 And terror strikes the haughty foe. 
 
 2 Praise to the Lord, wlio bows his ear 
 Propitious to liis people's prayer ; 
 And, though deliverance long delay, 
 Answers in his well-chosen day. 
 
 3 O may thy grace our land engage, 
 (Rescued from fierce tyrannic rage,) 
 This tribute of his love to bring 
 
 To thee, our Saviour and our King ! 
 
 4 Our temples, guanled from the flame. 
 Shall echo thy triumphant name ; 
 And every peaceful private home, 
 To thee a temple shall become. 
 
 5 Still be it our supreme delight 
 
 To walk as in thy honoured sight ; 
 Still in thy precepts and thy fear 
 To life's last hour to persevere. 
 
AN 
 
 INDEX OR TABLE, 
 
 TO FIND 
 
 A HYMN BY THE TITLE OR CONTENTS OF IT, 
 
 OR 
 
 A HYMN SUITABLE TO PARTICULAR SUBJECTS AND OCCASIONS. 
 
 N. B. THE FIGURES REFER TO THE HYMNS. 
 
 A 
 
 Aaron's breastplate, 3 
 Abiding in Christ, 237, 238 
 
 Abraham's care of his family, 2. His faith in 
 leaving his country, 318. God, his God, 319. His 
 intercession for Sodom, 3 
 
 Absence of God dreadful, 18, 157 
 
 Activity in religion, 199, 210. rewarded, 172 
 
 Adam the first and second, 270 
 
 Adopting love, 124, 281 
 
 Afflictions improved, 159. Instruction under them 
 desired, 373. moderated, 92. salutary, 143. sub- 
 mitted to, 42. succeeded by joy, 66. by rest and 
 happiness in heaven, 212, 310, 358 
 
 Angels, Christ seen of them, 304. their Iiead, 299. 
 their reply to those who sought Christ, 294. their 
 song at Christ's birth, 200, 201 
 
 Appeal to Christ for the security of love to him, 
 240 
 
 Ark, the godly man's, 90. Noah saved in, an em- 
 blem of the believer's safety in Christ, 336 
 
 B 
 
 Backsliders, their ingratitude, 191. invited to re- 
 turn, 122. God's pity for them, 153. recollecting 
 themselves, 149 
 
 Blessing of God necessary and desired, 55, 368 
 
 Blessings spiritual acknowledged, 2;}8. temporal, 
 God's readiness to give them argued, 2(il 
 
 Blood of Christ, admitting to the holiest, 315. 
 cleansing from sin, .348. conquering Satan, ;j5(). 
 conveying blessings, 347. purifying, 312 
 
 Britain, God entreated for it, 120. his controversy 
 with it 158. unreformed by deliverances, 140, 
 16.5 
 
 C 
 
 Captives of sin lamented, 129 
 
 Care, anxious, reproved, 20, 47, 340. of the soul 
 most needful, 200, 207 
 
 3 z 2 
 
 Cattle, the hand of God upon them, 5 
 
 Charity to the poor, 188, 205. rewarded, 209 
 
 Childless Christians comforted, 112 
 
 Children, Christ's regard to them, 198. commended 
 
 to God, 51. destroyed, 141. instructed, 2. of God, 
 
 281 , 326 
 
 Christ, his appearance after his resurrection, 246. 
 his second appearance, 314, 342. his ascension, 
 244. his blood, (see Blood.) his compassion, 
 185, 205, 214, 235. his complaint on the cross, 
 192, 193. Christians complete in him, 299. his 
 conrjuesfs, 41, 350, 357. the door, 228. our fore- 
 runner, 31 1. forsaken by his disciples, 191. by his 
 Father, 192, 193. his llock comforted, 208. humbled 
 and exalted, 139, 150. his intercession, 8. his 
 invitations, 74, 224, 225, 300. our Leader, 307, :}o3, 
 350. living to him, 270. the Lord our Righteous- 
 ness, 132. loving him, 239, 240. his message, 203. 
 his nativity, 200, 201. his prayer for his enemies, 
 217. precious to believers, 335. his presence with 
 his churches, 195, 3.52. a Prince and a Saviour, 
 248. rejoiced in, though unseen, 330. his resur- 
 rection, 194, 218. Christians risen and exalted 
 with him, 287. the root of Davi<l, 359. sanctilica- 
 tion by him, 242, 200. .security in him, 3.30. his 
 sheep, 230, 231, 2.32. the niorning star, 359. 
 the steward of God's family, 85. the living and 
 corner-stone, 3.33, .334. his submission, 190. his 
 sufferings, (see Suffering,) the Sun of Righteous- 
 ness, 173. his transtiguration, 183. his triumph, 
 41. unchangeable, 323. union with him, 207. our 
 Wisdom, Righteousness, &c. 200. 
 
 Christians, (sec Saints) 
 
 Church, the birth-place of the saints, 49. its glory 
 in the latter day, 118. Christ's presence with it, 
 195. care of it, .352. its prosperity a minister's 
 happiness, 301. purified and guarded, 107. its 
 security, 182. praying for a pastor, 1.3, 372. 
 
 Comfort, in God, 20. to the childless, 112. under 
 death of friends, 2.30, 200, .302. (see Support) 
 
 Communion with God through Christ, 346, 347 
 
107(3 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 Compassion, of God, m, 10.0. of Christ, 185, 205, 
 
 214, 21!>, 2:15. Cliri.stian, 205, 282 
 Conduct of Cliiist, mysterious, 2;54 
 Consolation, i'roni God, 277. from Christ, 2.35 
 Covenant, the blood of it delivcrin"- prisoners, Ifii). 
 
 tlic en<jasemciits of it desired, i;57. rejoieed in, 
 
 2:5. supportina; under troubles, 21. in death, 22. 
 
 unelian^eable, ;),)5 
 Courage, in religion, 9. in the cause of Christ, 247 
 Course, the Christian's, finished witii joy, 255 
 Creatures, insuHicient, 125. mean, 97. vain, 2G8 
 Cross of Christ, its inllucnce, 233t276, 280 
 Cup of blessings, 106 
 Cyrus's spirit stirred up, 24 
 
 D 
 
 Demoniac, recovered, 204. relapsing, 180 
 
 David, encouraging himself in God, 20. his vain 
 
 pursuit of perfection on eartis, G.'5. his last words, 
 
 365 
 
 Day, of small things not despised, 1(58. of grace, 
 
 127,2-36. of judgment, (see .Judgment) 
 Dead, quickened, 89. the pious, living to God, 215 
 Death, appointed to all, .313. conqneicd by Clirist, 
 
 308. under his control, 351. of friends improved, 
 164. happiness beyond it, 295. a great journey, 
 27. none in heaven, 358. prepared for, 130, 313, 
 317. rejoieed in, 361. a sleep, 196. support in it, 
 22, .32, 45. uncertain time of it, 1.30, 134, 329 
 
 Delaying sinners admonished, 127, 130, 256, 292, 
 
 309, 329 
 
 Deliverance, celebrated, 58, 59, 60, 364, public, 272, 
 
 374. spiritual, 105, 204 
 Desires knov> n to God, 39. (see Prayer) 
 Devil, (see Satan) 
 
 Devotion, daily, 79. secret, 177. an evidence of 
 
 adoption, 281. (sec Prayer) 
 Diligence, Christian, 199, 210, 296 
 
 E 
 
 Education, good, 2. bad, 241 
 
 Enemies, of God, destroyed, 44. of Christ, destroyed, 
 213. his prayer for them, 217. of the church re- 
 strained, 46. defence against them, 95. love to 
 them, 217. spiritual, (see Satan) 
 
 Enoch's piety and translation, 1 
 
 Establishment in religion, 341 
 
 Eternity, of God, 54. of Christ, 323. of heavenly hap- 
 piness, 187, .302. employed in God's praise, 71 
 Evening hymn, 363 
 Examples, good, their usefulness, 175 
 
 F 
 
 Faith, and confession, 262. Jonah's recommended, 
 157. living by it, 280. in God's name, .30. in his 
 promises, 316. struggling with unbelief, 197. the 
 SyropiwKnician woman's, IRl 
 
 Faithfulness of God, 269, 316, .355 
 
 Fall of Adam, eflects of it, 270 
 
 Family, religion, 2. God's, under Christ's care, 85 
 
 Farewell, the Christian, 279 
 
 Fast-days, hymns for, 3, 6, 83, 84, 116, 120, 140, 
 
 155, 1.58, 186, .3.39, ,369 
 Fasts, unsuccessful, accounted for, 116 
 Fathers, state of them reflected on, 16.5 
 Fear, unreasonable, restrained, 15, 30, 47, 98 
 Feast, of wisdom, 76. of the gospel, 211. the Chris- 
 tian's secret feast, 222 
 Fire, God's controversy by it, 151, his word com- 
 
 pared to it, 133. everlasting, the portion of the 
 wicked, 189 
 
 Forgiveness, of enemies, 217. divine, (sec Pardon) 
 Forsaking God, its evil, 131. the misery of being 
 
 forsaken by him, 18- 
 Foundation, the divine, firm, 305. of the church is 
 
 Christ, 333, 334. 
 Frailty of man, and God's pity, .55 
 Fruitfulncss of Christians, 237, 240 
 Funeral hymns, 17, 25, 27, 32, 42, 196,208,215, 
 
 260, 29.5, .302. (see Death, Grave, Resurrection) 
 
 G 
 
 Generations, passing away, 164. succeeding, sup- 
 ported by God, 51 
 
 Gentiles, Christ the light of them, 202. united to 
 the church, 113, 284 
 
 Glory, divine, Moses's view of it, 11. future, (see 
 Heaven) 
 
 Glorying in God alone, 128 
 
 God, his blessing desirable, 53, 368. his compassion, 
 55, 109, 153. his complacency in his people, 38. 
 in their prosperity, 37. in his thoughts of peace, 
 135. in tlie salvation of his church, 163. the dwell- 
 ing-place of his people, 51. his eternity, 54. his 
 faithfulness, 269, 316, 355. the God of the patri-- 
 archs, 319. his goodness to saints, 34. to all crea- 
 tures, 56. crowning the year, 43. ever-enduring, 
 67, relished, 35. his greatness, 97. the happiness 
 of his people, 45. his justice and mercy, 12. his 
 knowledge of our days, 38. of our distress, 39. of 
 our frame, 55. his love in Christ, 220. his pardon- 
 ing mercy, 28, .50, 103, 160. his name proclaimed, 
 12. trust in it, 30. his people his portion, 14. our 
 portion here and hereafter, 45. his presence de- 
 sirable, 10. with his saints, 38. our Preserver, 102. 
 our Protector, 31, 340. his providence, 47. its 
 bounties, 176, 297. the salvation of his people, 
 36, 125. our Shepherd, 144. shining into the heart, 
 274. speaking peace, 48, 109, 114. support in him, 
 15, 45. unchangeable, 54. unknown, 253. waiting 
 to be gracious, 93 
 
 Goodness of God for time and eternity, 34. crown- 
 ing the year, 43. everlasting, 67. tasted, 35. uni- 
 versal, .56. 
 
 Gospel, its happy effects, 86, 109, 111. its feast, 
 211. a law of liberty, 327. its progress desired, 
 120,121. its grand scheme, 284. its joyful sound, 
 .50. its treasure in earthen vessels, 275. 
 
 Government, of God, Zion's joy, 108. of Christ, 85, 
 351. over death and the unseen world, 351. 
 
 Grace, growing in it, .344. pardoning, 133, 160. per- 
 fecting, .325. quickening, 62. saved by it, .386. 
 
 Gratitude, the spring of religion, 152. (see Praise) 
 
 Grave, its solitude, 2.3, 27. Christ's triumph over it. 
 194, .3.50, 351. (see Resurrection) 
 
 Grief, at beholding transgressors, 64. moderated, 
 196, 268, 302. 
 
 H. 
 
 Happiness of God's Israel, 16. his complacency in 
 
 it, 37, .38, 163. only in God, 45. 
 Hardening ourselves against God fatal, 26, 2.56, .309. 
 Head of the church, Christ, 290. of angels and men, 
 
 299. 
 
 Health restored, 58, 59, 60. spiritual, 204, 223. 
 
 Heaven, its happiness, 295. an inheritance, 285. 
 everlasting light there, 119. made meet for it, 
 298. its rest, 310. seeing Christ there. 295. to be 
 
INDEX. 
 
 1077 
 
 sought first, 178. view of it, overcoming grief and 
 death, 358. 
 Heavenly-mindedness, 300. 
 
 Help from God, 19, 98, 257. sought and obtain- 
 ed, 68. 
 
 House, of God above, 33, 354. of prayer, 113. of 
 wisdom, 76. 
 
 Humiliation and exaltation, of Israel, 99. of Christ, 
 
 139, 351. day of, (see Fast) 
 Humility of a penitent, 142, 371. under God's hand, 
 
 338, 339. 
 
 Hymn, for morning, 362. for evening, 363. for a day 
 
 of prayer, 120. (see Praise) 
 Hypocrisy dreaded, 250. 
 
 I 
 
 Jabez's prayer, 370. 
 Jacob's vow, 4. 
 
 Jerusalem, Christ's tears over it, 214. his gospel 
 
 first preached there, 219. tlie New, 354. 
 Incarnation of Christ, 200, 220. 
 Inconstancy in religion, 151. 
 Inheritance, of the upright, 38. of heaven, 285. 
 Iniquity abounding, 186. to be avoided, 7. 
 Intercession of Christ, 8. 
 Invisible God regarded, 321. 
 
 Joy, religious, 09. in God, 161. in Christ, 330, 335. 
 
 in the covenant, 22, 23. 
 Israel and Amalek, 6. backsliding invited to return, 
 
 122. blessed by the priests, 368. its happiness, 16. 
 
 humbled and exalted, 99. its obstinacy, 88. its 
 
 stupidity, 83. 
 Jubilee, the gospel, .50. 
 
 Judgment, appointed to all, 313. approaching, 317. 
 
 the circumstances of it, 342. no escaping it, 337. 
 
 prepared for, 343. desired and rejoiced in, 314, 
 
 361. happy for the saints, 303. 
 Judgments of God, deprecated, 373. compared with 
 
 Jiis mercies, 109. 
 Justice and mercy of God, 12. 
 
 K 
 
 Key of David in Christ's hand, 85, 350, 351 
 Kingdom, of God, 108. to be first sought, 178. of 
 
 Christ, 41,. 351. of heaven, 187, 208. 
 Knowledge, of God .sought, 150. experimental, 345. 
 
 L 
 
 Law, of liberty, 827. of love, 205, 282. 
 Liberality, (see Charity) 
 
 Liberty given by Christ, 226, 227. tlie law of, 327. 
 to enter the holiest, 315. 
 
 Life, abundant by Christ, 229, 349. the Christian's 
 connected with Christ's, 236. the fountain of it, 
 170. vain, 52. uncertain, 130, 1.34, 329. 
 
 Liglit, shining into the heart, 274. of the Gentiles, 
 Christ, 202. everlasting from God, 119. of good 
 examples, 175. 
 
 Living, to Christ, 270, 294. by faith in him, 280. to 
 God hereafter, 215. 
 
 Love of God, in sending his Son, 220. in giving all 
 things with him, 201. shed abroad, 259. of Christ 
 in ministering to men, 184. in giving himself for 
 them, 184, 291, 293. to Christ expressed, 335. 
 continued in, 239. appeal toJiim for its sincerity, 
 246. to men, 291. unfeigned, 331. to enemies, 217. 
 
 M 
 
 Majesty of God, 97. 
 
 Man, frail, and mortal, 270. frail, but God eternal, .04. 
 
 Manasseh's repentance, 371. 
 Marriage, spiritual, 293. 
 Meditation and retirement, 29. 
 Meek, their happiness, 72. 
 
 Mercy, pardoning, 103, 160, 371. despised, 258. 
 
 public improved, 374. (see Compassion) 
 Military ode, 360. 
 
 Ministers under Christ's care, 352. Christ ever with 
 them, 195. comforted, that they may comfort 
 others, 271. comfort on their death, 17, 182, 195, 
 275. faithful, promoted to join the angels, 166. 
 frail and weak, 275. given by God, 123. the 
 church's prospeiity their happiness, 301. a sweet 
 savour to God, 273. sought from God, 13, 372. 
 watching for souls, 324. willing to be employed, 
 82. die, but the gospel lives, 275 
 
 Ministry, instituted, 289. Christ's, unsuccessful, 104 
 
 Miracles for Israel in the vvilderness, 47 
 
 Moderation, Christian, 268 
 
 Morning hymn, 302 
 
 Mortality (see Man, Death) 
 
 Moses, his wise choice, 320. his regard to the invisi- 
 ble God, 321. bis song, 357. his view of the divine 
 glory, 11 
 
 Mourners comforted, 60, 190, 302. (see Comfort, 
 Support) 
 
 Multitude not to be followed to evil, 7 
 N 
 
 National sins lamented, 140. deliverances cele- 
 brated, 272, 374 
 
 Nature, frail, but God compassionate, .55, and 
 Scripture, 63 
 
 Nearness to God through Christ, 113,288 
 
 New-year's day, hymns for, 19, 43, 52, 67, 234, 257, 
 308 
 
 Noah preserved in the ark, 336 
 
 November the 5th, hymns for, 108, 272, 374 
 
 O 
 
 Obedience, to the heavenly vision, 82. to God's 
 word, 130. the design of national deliverances, 374 
 Ordination, hymns for, 82, 123, 106, 275, 289, 324 
 
 P 
 
 Pardon of sin celebrated, 103, 153, 160. for the chief 
 of sinners, 219. and strength, 100 
 
 Part, the better, chosen, 207, 320 
 
 Patience, under alllictions, 52. under mysterious 
 providences, 212. in waiting, 93, 295 
 
 Patriarchs, a city prepared for tiiein, 319 
 
 Peace, with God, sought, 91. obtained, 87, 114. re- 
 joiced in, 135. improved, 48. in Christ amidst 
 tribulations, 241. puhlic celebrated, 307 
 
 Perfection, not to be found in nature, 03. in re- 
 ligion, .341 
 
 Persecution to be expected by Christians, 300 
 Perseverance of the saints, 232, 341 
 Pity, (see Compassion) 
 
 Poor, trusting in God, 102. charity to them, 188, 
 205, 209 
 
 Portion of God, his people, 14. God, ours, 45 
 Power of God, 26, 156. the security of the saints, 
 31, 216, 232 
 
 Praise to God, everlasting, 71. for Christ, 201, 220. 
 for his goodness, 34, 35, 43, .56. for his everlast- 
 ing goodness, 67, 70. for the hope of glory, 298. 
 for liberty of worshi|), 49. for ministers, 123, 289. 
 for pardon, 160. for public peace, .367, 374. for 
 
1078 
 
 HYMNS, 
 
 preservation, 2;>7. for protection, 31. for recovery 
 from sicivncss, 5S, .V.). (iO, JIG I. as our Sliei)luM(l, 
 l it. for spiritual blessings, 283. for tcnuioral 
 l)lessini;s i;iven witii Clirist, '26\ 
 
 Prayer, lieard, 370, 371. secret, 177. family, 2. 
 for tlie Spirit, 251. for ministers, 13, 372. for tlie 
 re\ ival of relijtion, 120, 121. house of prayer, 113 
 
 Preparation to meet God, 156. for ('hrisl's second 
 eominsf, 317, .343 
 
 Presence, of God desirable, 10, 3G8. of Christ with 
 his churches, 17, 195 
 
 Preservation, from God, 31, 95, 102, 257 
 
 Pride punished, 26 
 
 Prisoners, spiritual, delivered, 105, 169, 203 
 Privileges, inisimproved, 127. of Christians by tlie 
 
 blood of Christ, 287, 288, 347, 348, 356 
 Promises, God's fidelity to them, 316, 355 
 Prosperity, from God, 53. not to be expected by 
 
 rebels against him, 26. dreadful, if abused, 212 
 Providence, 108. followed, 318. its bounties, 175, 
 
 297. its mysteries to be cleared up hereafter, 212, 
 
 234 
 
 Q 
 
 Quickening grace desired, 62 
 Quietness under trouble, 42 
 
 R 
 
 Race, the Christian, 296, Christ our forerunner in 
 it, 311 
 
 Raiment, spiritual, 132, 165 
 
 Rainbow round the throne, 355 
 
 Rebels, against God, warned, 44. punished, 26, 156. 
 
 against Christ executed, 213 
 Rebellion, impudent, 136. hymn for deliverance 
 
 from it, 46 
 Recovery from sickness, 58, 59, 60, 364 
 Redemption by Christ, 170, 226, 227, 266 
 Rejoicing in God amidst poverty, 161. in Christ 
 
 though unseen, 330. in our covenant engagements, 
 
 23. in the views of death and judgment, 314, 361. 
 
 (see Joy) 
 
 Religion, revived, 146. activity in it, 172. incon- 
 stancy in it, 151. gratitude the spring of it, 1.52 
 
 Repentance, commanded to all, 254. tlie means of 
 pardon, 28, 371. producing humility and submis- 
 sion, 142 
 
 Resignation, (see Patience, Submission) 
 
 Rest, the holy soul's in God, 57. remaining for 
 
 God's people, 310 
 Resurrection, of Christ, 194, 218. of Christians, 89, 
 
 260, 270, 287, by the Spirit, 26(t 
 Retirement and self-examination, 29 
 Returning to God, 122, 126, 149 
 Revival of religion, attempted, 172. prayed for, 120, 
 
 121 
 
 Riches, their vanity, 63, 212. desire of them mo- 
 derated, 268. everlasting, obtained by charity, 209 
 Righteous men, (see Saints) 
 Righteousness from Christ, 132, 165, 266, 274 
 Rod of God heard, 159. its good ellects, 143, 373 
 
 S 
 
 Sabbath, the eternal, 310 
 
 Sacrifice, of Christ, 220, 291. (see Blood,) the liv- 
 ing, 263 
 
 Safety, in God, 31, 90, 95, 98, 102. in the ways of 
 religion, 96 
 
 Saints, their excellency, 77, 78. their happiness, 16, 
 
 38. God's portion, 14. their prospects for time and 
 eternity, 33, 45. their senlence and linal happi- 
 ness, 187. Christ glorilicd in them, 303. and sin- 
 ners, dilfcrcnl views in time of danger, 94. their 
 di lie rent end, 212 
 
 Salvation, approacrhing, 264. beautifying the meek, 
 72. everlasting, ;510, 314. (see Heaven,) from God, 
 .39. (iod magnilied for it, 40. speaking it to his 
 people, 36. by grace, 286. the scheme of it worthy 
 of God, 307. the word of it sent to us, 252 
 
 Samaritan, the good, 205 
 
 Sanetification, of Christ and his church, 242. by 
 Christ, 266, 293 
 
 Satan, his captives lamented, 129. conquered by 
 Christ, 308. by Christians, 265, 356. his power 
 restrained, 216. his strong holds cast down, 278 
 
 Scripture, its excellency, 63. (see Word) 
 
 Seasons of the year, 43 
 
 Secret prayer, 177 
 
 Seeking, Christ, 75. the knowledge of God, 150. 
 the kingdom of God first, 178. tilings above, 300 
 
 Self-dedication, 23, 263 
 
 Self-examination, 29, 138 
 
 Sepulchre in the garden, 213, (see Grave) 
 
 Serving Christ, 276, 294. with zeal, 210, 247 
 
 Settlement of a minister, a hynui for, 123. (see Or- 
 dination, Minister) 
 
 Sheep, Christ's, their character, 230. happiness, 
 231. security, 232. comforted, 208. God's care of 
 them, 144. recovered from wandering, 65 
 
 Shepherd of saints is God, 144 
 
 Sickness, healed, 58, 59, GO. 364. spiritual, healed, 
 204, 223 
 
 Silence under afiliction, 42. (see Submission) 
 
 Simeon's song and prophecy, 202 
 
 Sin, its captives lamented, 129. causing grief to 
 
 good men, 64. cleansed by Christ's blood, 312, 
 
 348. pardoned, 169, 170. remonstrated against, 
 
 11,5. none in heaven, 310 
 Singing in God's way, 69. (see .Toy, Rejoicing) 
 Sinners, alarmed, 80. destroyed, 26. their doom, 
 
 148. exhorted, 328. recovered, 204. relapsing, 100. 
 
 their final sentence and misery, 189. warned of 
 
 their appearance at judgment, 337. their vain 
 
 refuge, 337 
 
 Soldier, the Christian, animated and crowned, 353, 
 3.54 
 
 Song of Moses and the Lamb, 357. (see Hymn, 
 Praise) 
 
 Sorrow, (see Affliction, Grief) 
 
 Soul, God, its Saviour, 36. its strength, 68. the care 
 
 of it needful, 206, 207 
 Spirit of God, compared to water, 221, 225, 360. his 
 
 infiuences desired, 14.5, 251, 360. lifting up his 
 
 standard, 117. the proof of our adoption, 281. 
 
 quickening dead saints, 260. revealing heaven, 
 
 285 
 
 Spirits of men, under God's influence, 24. depart- 
 ing, committed to Christ, 249 
 
 Spiritual enemies, (see Satan) 
 
 State of the dead rellected on, 164 
 
 Stone, the living, 333. the corner, .334 
 
 Strength from heaven, 15, 68, 98, 269 
 
 Subjection to God, 322 
 
 Submission to God, 42, 190. (see Patience) 
 
 Successor the gospel, 100, 111, 147, 173. sought, 
 120, 121 
 
 Sufferings, of Christ, 191, 307. and his success, 41, 
 V.Kh of Christians, 306. (.see Grief, Comfort, Sup- 
 port) 
 
 i 
 
INDEX. 
 
 1079 
 
 Sun of righteousness, 173 
 
 Supper, Lord's, liymns for it, 171, 288, 350 
 
 Support, from God, 15. in deatli, 32, 45. in the 
 covenant, under troubles, 20, 21. in death, 22. on 
 tlie death of faithful ministers, 17, 182, 195. pious 
 friends, 17, 19(5, 208, 215, 260, 302. young Chris- 
 tians, 234 
 
 Sympathy, Christian, 205, 282 
 
 T 
 
 Table of the Lord, polluted, 171. spread, and in- 
 vitation sent, 211. attended, 350 
 
 Tasting divine goodness, 35. that the Lord is gra- 
 cious, 332 
 
 Teachings, divine, 210. Christ's, excellent, 175 
 Temple, the spiritual, 167, 333. the heavenly, and 
 
 Christians pillars in it, 33, 354 
 Temptations moderated, 2 1 6. overcome, 356. strength 
 
 proportioned to them, 269 
 Thankfulness, (see Praise) 
 
 Thanksgiving, hymns of, 67, 70, 71. for public 
 
 mercies, 49, 95, 272, 374 
 Things, small, the day of, not despised, 168 
 Time, redeemed, 130, 292, 317, .329. wasted, 52, 127 
 Triumph in God's protection, 31. of Christ, 41. of 
 
 the gospel, (see Success) 
 Trouble, patience under it, 42. consolation in it, 
 
 235. in domestic troubles, 21. (see Support) 
 Trust in God, 30, 87, 162 
 
 V 
 
 Vacant congregations seeking God, 13, 372 
 Vanity, of creatures, and God's sufficiency, 125. of 
 
 earthly things, 168. of man, 63. of man, and 
 
 majesty of God, 97. of riches, 212. of worldly 
 
 schemes, 329. of our years, 52 
 Victory, celebrated, 46, 272, 374. spiritual, (see 
 
 Satan) 
 
 Vine, Christ the true, 337. abiding in him, 237,238 
 Vineyard of God, 81. its unfruitfulness punished, 
 174 
 
 Unbelief and faith struggling, 197 
 Unchangeableness of God, 54, 316. of Christ, 323. 
 of the covenant, 355 
 
 Unknown God, 253 
 
 Voice of Christ calling men, 74. of God to be im- 
 mediately heard, 309. of the rod heard, 159, 373 
 Vows, religious, encouraged, 137. rejoiced in, 23 
 
 W 
 
 Waiting for God, 93 
 Walking with God, 1, 79 
 
 Warfare, spiritual, 192, 306, .353, 354. (see Satan) 
 
 Watchfulness, Christian, 129, 210 
 
 Waters, living, an emblem of the Spirit, 221, 225, 
 
 360. of the sanctuary, 147 
 Ways of God, singing in them, 69. safety in them, 
 
 96. the blind and weak led in them, 101. of the 
 
 upright known to God, 38. searching and trying 
 
 our ways, 138 
 Wicked, (see Sinner) 
 
 Wilderness, transformed, 100. miracles in it, 47 
 Wisdom, her house and feast, 76. her invitations, 
 
 76. her reproofs and encouragements, 73. true, 
 
 1.50. Christ our wisdom, 266 
 Word of God, its benefit to youth, 61. its efficacy, 
 
 133, 356. its excellency, 63 
 World, transitory, 268. vain, 329. destroyed, 342 
 Worship, daily, 79. family, 2. secret, 177. opening 
 
 a new place of worship, 49 
 Wrath, future, 189. treasured up, 258. of enemies 
 
 restrained, 95. and overruled, 46 
 
 Y 
 
 Year, crowned with divine goodness, 43. wasted, 
 52. (see New-year's day) 
 
 Youth, pressed to pray, 370. regard to Scripture, 61. 
 to seek Christ, 75. to seek heaven first, 178. com- 
 fort on their death, 234 
 
 Z 
 
 Zeal, for God, 9. for Christ's cause, 246, 247. ap- 
 proved and rewarded, 172 
 
 Zion, God comforting it, 163. entreated for it, 220. 
 its joy in (Jod's government, 108. purified and 
 guarded, 107. the highway to it, 96. way to it 
 sought, 137. (see Church) 
 
 I 
 
THE 
 
 PRINCIPLES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION, 
 
 EXPRESSED 
 
 IN PLAIN AND EASY VERSE, 
 
 AND 
 
 DIVIDED INTO SHORT LESSONS, FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN 
 
 AND YOUTH. 
 
 Jesus said unto I'cUr, Lovcsl thuu me ! Feed my lambs. JOiiN xxi. 15. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The little verses now before tlie reader were written at the desire of my most worthy and honoured friend, 
 the Reverend Mr. Clark of St. Albans, and are published at his request, as what he hopes may, by the 
 divine blessing, do some good in the rising generation. I was the more willing to undertake the task, 
 because I had often observed with how much ease and pleasure children learn verses by heart, how fond 
 they are of repeating them, and, by consequence, how much longer they retain them than they do what 
 they learn in prose. 
 
 In this view Dr. Watts's Songs for Children have been a singular blessing to our land : and it is but 
 justice to that great, yet condescending, writer, to own, that if this light essay be of any service in it, a 
 great part of the tlianks will be due to him, who had digested the chief heads of Christianity in so natu- 
 ral a method, and expressed them in such easy yet comprehensive language, in the first part of his Second 
 Set of Catechisms, that he had left me very little more to do under many of the articles than to trans- 
 late them into rhyme ; for I can hardly presume to call it poetry. 
 
 That simplicity and ease, which may suit children, I have been always careful to maintain ; and have 
 endeavoured, here and there, where I conveniently could, to strike the fancy with a little imagery, and 
 especially to affect the hearts of my dear little scholars, by giving a serious and practical turn to the 
 several truths which are delivered. It has also been my great care to insert nothing into these verses but 
 what I ajjprehend the generality of serious Christians believe, so that I hope they will suit different 
 denominations ; as indeed I could wish the rising age might be instructed in wliat is like to unite, rather 
 than divide, us. Their own comfort, as well as the credit of our common Christianity, is much concerned 
 in it. 
 
 Some will, no doubt, think this a trifling perfbrmance : but I have been told, that the familiar system 
 of religion which Grotius drew up, in easy verse, for tiie use of the Dutch sailors, was esteemed by him 
 and others one of his most useful works: and if I had not the patronage of such illustrious names as 
 have gone before me in such humble labours, I should think myself unworthy the honour of calling .lesus 
 my Master, if I thought it beneath me to be desirous of doing good to the least child of the poorest of the 
 people. 
 
 No nation under heaven appears to me so well furnished with helps for the Christian education of 
 children as our own. I heartily i)ray that parents may be diligent in using them, and that tliey may 
 enforce their good instructions with a suitable example; and ilien I doubt net, but, through the divine 
 blessing, the hapi)y fruits will be visible : nor will a gracious God, who takelh pleasure in the prosperity 
 of his people, forget the least pious and benevolent attempt for promoting so good a work. 
 
 Northampton, October 31, 1743. 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
THE PRINCIPLES 
 LESSON I. 
 
 Of our own nature, and its chief glory and happiness. 
 
 Now for a while aside I '11 lay 
 My childless trifles, and my play; 
 And call my thoughts which rove abroad, 
 To view myself and view my God. 
 I '11 look within, that I may see 
 What I now am, what I must be. 
 
 I am the creature of the Lord : 
 He made me by his powerful word. 
 This body, in each curious part, 
 Was wrought by his unfailing art. 
 From him my nobler spirit came, 
 My soul, a spark of heavenly llame : 
 That soul, by which my body lives, 
 Which thinks, and hopes, and joys, and grieves, 
 And must in heaven or hell remain. 
 When flesh is turned to dust again. 
 
 What business then should I attend. 
 Or what esteem ray noblest end ? 
 Sure it consists in this alone, 
 That God my Maker may be known : 
 So known, that I may love him still. 
 And form my actions by his w ill : 
 That he may bless me whilst I live, 
 And when I die my soul receive, 
 To dwell for ever in his sight 
 In perfect knowledge and delight. 
 
 LESSON II. 
 
 77(6 knowledye of God and our duty to he learnt 
 from the Bible. 
 
 How .shall a young immortal learn 
 This great, this infinite concern. 
 What my Almighty Maker is, 
 And what the w ay this God to please ? 
 
 Shall some bright angel spread his wing. 
 The welcome message down to bring ? 
 Or must wc dig beneath the ground. 
 Deep as where silver mines are found? 
 
 I bless his name for what I hear ; 
 The word of life and truth is near; 
 His gospel sounds through all our land ; 
 Bibles are lodged in every ha. id. 
 That sacred book inspired by God 
 In our own tongue is spread abroad : 
 That book may little children read, 
 And learn tlie know ledge which they need. 
 I '11 place it still before my eyes. 
 For there my hope and treasure lies. 
 
 LESSON III. 
 
 Of the nature and attributes of the blessed Cud. 
 
 God is a Spirit none can see ; 
 He ever was, is, and shall be : 
 
 OF RELIGION, &c. 108I 
 
 Present where'er his creatures dwell, 
 Through earth and sea, through heaven and iicll. 
 
 His eye with infinite survey 
 Views all their realms in full display : 
 What has been, is, or shall be done. 
 Or here, or there, to him is known ; ' 
 Nor can one thought arise unseen, 
 In mind of angels, or of men. 
 Yet far above all anxious cares 
 Serene He rules his grand afl'airs ; 
 While wisdom infinite attends 
 By surest means the noblest ends. 
 
 Majestic from his lofty throne 
 He speaks, and all his will is done : 
 Nor can united worlds withstand 
 The force of his Almighty hand. 
 Yet ever righteous are his ways : 
 Faithful and true whate'er he says : 
 The Holy, holy, holy Lord, 
 By all the angelic host adored. 
 
 The bounty of his gracious hands. 
 Wide as the world he made, extends ! 
 And though himself completely blessed, 
 With pity looks on the distressed ; 
 And by his Son, our Saviour dear. 
 To sinners brings salvation near. 
 
 All that is glorious, good, and great, 
 Does in the Lord Jehovah meet. 
 . Then to his name be glory given 
 By all on earth, and all in heaven. 
 
 LESSON IV. 
 
 Of God's relation to us. 
 
 The Lord my Maker I adore, 
 Created by his love and power. 
 He fashioned in their various forms 
 Angels, and men, and beasts, and worms ; 
 And all their well-ranged orders stand 
 Supported by his powerful hand. 
 
 Father of light ! amidst the skies 
 He bids the golden sun arise : 
 He scatters the refreshing rain, 
 To clieer the grass, and swell the grain ; 
 And every day presents the food, 
 That satisfies my mouth with good. 
 
 At home, abroad, by night, by day. 
 He is my guardian, and my stay. 
 And sure 'tis fit my soul should know. 
 He is my Lord and Sovereign too. 
 
 O may that voice, that speaks his law. 
 My heart to sweet obedience draw ; 
 That when I see the Judge descend, 
 I in fliat Judge may sec my friend ! 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF RELIGION, 
 
 LESSON V. 
 
 The sum of our duty to God and man. 
 
 TiiK kiiowlcdiie wliirli my licart desires, 
 Is but to learn what (iod ri'r|iiires. 
 Speak tlien the word, my Father dear, 
 For all my soul's awake to hear: 
 And O, what joy my breast must move, 
 To hear, that all thy law is love ! 
 
 This is the sum of every part ; 
 To love the Lord with all my heart, 
 AVitli all my soul, with all my mi<;ht, 
 And in his service to delight : 
 Tliat I should love my neighbours too, 
 And what I wish from them should do. 
 
 How short and sweet, how good and plain, 
 Easy to learn, and to retain ! 
 
 0 may thy grace my soul renew ! 
 And 'twill be sweet to practise too. 
 
 LESSON VI. 
 How our love to God is to be expressed. 
 
 Since love is as my duty known. 
 How must this love to God be shown ? 
 Sure I the highest thoughts should raise 
 Of him, who is above all praise : 
 His favour most of all desire, 
 And still to jilcase him should aspire : 
 To him be constant worship paid, 
 And all his sacred laws obeyed. 
 
 If to afflict me be his will, 
 
 1 'II bear it with submission still : 
 A tender Father sure he proves. 
 And but corrects because he loves. 
 
 His word with diligence I 'II hear : 
 To him present my daily prayer: 
 And while new mercies I implore, 
 For blessings past I will adore ; 
 And every action shall express 
 A heart full-charged with thankfulness. 
 
 LESSON VII. 
 How love to our nei(/lihour should he expressed. 
 
 I BY ray love to men must prove 
 How cordially ray God I love. 
 To those whom he hath clothed with power, 
 I would be subject every hour : 
 To parents, and to rulers too. 
 Pay lionour and obedience due: 
 In every word I 'II truth maintain. 
 In every act shall justice reign. 
 
 In all ray feeble hands can do 
 The good of all I would pursue : 
 And where my powers of action fail, 
 Kind wishes in my heart prevail 
 For every man, whoe'er he be. 
 Stranger, or friend, or enemy. 
 
 Since by God's pardoning grace 1 live, 
 Well may I all my foes forgive ; 
 And, as Christ's word and pattern showed, 
 Conquer their evil by ray good. 
 
 LESSON VIII. 
 
 Sins to he avoided, in thought, word, and action. 
 
 Guard rae, O God, from every sin ; 
 Let heart, and tongue, and life be clean! 
 Though witii ten thousand snares beset, 
 I never would my Lord forget. 
 
 Fain would I learn to lay aside 
 Malice, and stubbornness, and pride, 
 Envy, and every evil thought ; 
 Nor be my breast with anger hot. 
 Each other passion wild and rude 
 I long to feel by grace subdued. 
 
 When thus my heart is well prepared, 
 My tongue I easily shall guard 
 Frora every oath, and curse profane. 
 Nor take God's reverend name in vain : 
 No sacred thing shall I deride. 
 Nor scofl', nor rail, nor brawl, nor chide : 
 My soul will every lie detest, 
 And every base indecent jest. 
 
 This humble watchful soul of mine 
 Shall with abhorrence then decline 
 The drunkard's cup, the glutton's feast. 
 That sink the man down to the beast ; 
 The injurious blow, the wanton eye, 
 The loss of hours that quickly fly ; 
 And that which leads to every crime, 
 The vain raispence of sacred time ; 
 What brings dishonour on God's law. 
 Or what on man would mischief draw. 
 
 LESSON IX. 
 
 The corruption of nature, and sins of life acknow- 
 ledged. 
 
 Lord, when my wretched soul surveys 
 The various follies of my ways. 
 The guilt of every word and thought. 
 Every neglect, and every fault. 
 Well may I tremble to appear. 
 Laden with horror, shame, and fear. 
 
 Adam, our common head, alas, 
 Brought sin and death on all his race: 
 From him my ruined nature came. 
 Heir to his sorrow, and his shame : 
 My body w eak, and dark my mind. 
 To good averse, to sin inclined : 
 And oh, too soon the deadly fruit 
 Ripened from that unhappy root. 
 
 Duty required ray early care 
 Each fond indulgence to forbear ; 
 
IN PLAIN AND EASY VERSE. 
 
 1083 
 
 Required mo, all the good I knew 
 With constant vigour to pursue. 
 But my vain heart, and stubborn will, 
 In its own ways would wander still ; 
 Like a wild ass's colt would go 
 On to this wilderness of woe. 
 Vainly I .seek to plead a word. 
 Silent in guilt before the Lord. 
 
 LESSON X. 
 
 Of the miscnj which sin hath brought upon us. 
 
 Who can abide God's wrath, or stand 
 Before the terrors of his hand ? 
 Jehovali's curse what heart shall dare 
 To meet ? or what be strong to bear ? 
 
 He every good can take away, 
 And every evil on us lay: 
 Can by one single word bring down 
 The tallest head that wears a crown. 
 The statesman wise, the warrior brave, 
 To moulder in the silent grave ; 
 And send the wretched soul to hell. 
 To the fierce flames where devils dwell, 
 For endless years to languish there 
 In pangs of infinite despair. 
 
 I then, poor feeble child, how soon 
 Must I dissolve before his frown ! 
 And yet his frowns, and vengeance too, 
 I by my sins have made my due. 
 
 Is there no hope? and must I die? 
 Is there no friend, no helper nigh ! 
 Is it beyond repeal decreed. 
 That every soul that sins must bleed ? 
 Oh let my longing, trembling ear 
 Some sound of grace and pardon hear ! 
 My soul would the first news embrace. 
 And tarn its tremblings into praise. 
 
 LESSON XI. 
 Of the Gospel, or the good news of salvation by Christ 
 
 What joyful tidings do I hear? 
 'Tis gospel-grace salutes my ear: 
 And by thy gentle sound I find, 
 This righteous God is mild and kind. 
 
 .Tesus, his only Son, displays 
 The wonders of his Father's grace, 
 Tiie great salvation long foretold 
 By prophets to the .Jews of old, 
 Is now in plainer words made known. 
 As to the apostles clearly shown. 
 By this blest message brought from heaven, 
 Pardon, and peace, and grace is given. 
 
 O may I know that Saviour dear. 
 Whom Cod has represented there! 
 And that eternal life receive. 
 Which he was sent by God to give ! 
 
 LESSON XII. 
 
 Who Christ is, and how he lived on earth, 
 
 Jesus ! how bright his glories shine ! 
 The great Emanuel is divine. 
 One with the Father he appears. 
 And all his Father's honours shares. 
 Yet he to bring salvation down 
 Has put our mortal nature on. 
 
 He in an humble virgin's womb 
 A feeble infant did become : 
 A stable was his lodging made. 
 And the rude manger was his bed. 
 
 Growing in life he still was seen 
 Humble, laborious, poor, and mean. 
 The Son of God from year to year 
 Did as a carpenter appear. 
 
 At length, when he to preach was sent, 
 Through towns and villages he went, 
 And travelled with unwearied zeal 
 God's will and nature to reveal. 
 
 To prove the heavenly truths he taught. 
 Unnumbered miracles were wrought. 
 The blind beheld him ; and the ear. 
 Which had been deaf, his voice could hear ; 
 Sickness ob-cyed his healing hand ; 
 And devils fled at his command ; 
 The lame for joy around him leap ; 
 The dead he wakens from their sleep. 
 
 Through all his life his doctrine shines, 
 Drawn in the plainest, fairest lines. 
 And death at length did he sustain, 
 Our pardon and our peace to gain ; 
 That sinners who condemned stood, 
 Might gain salvation by his blood. 
 All honour then ascribed be 
 To him who lived and died for me ! 
 
 LESSON XIII. 
 Of Christ's death, resurrection, and ascension, 
 
 Jesus the righteous! lo, he dies, 
 For sin a spotless sacrifice! 
 Justice has on his sacred head 
 The weight of our transgressions laid. 
 If God's own Son would sinners save. 
 He must be humbled to the grave ; 
 That so a pardoning God might show 
 What vengeance to our crimes was due. 
 
 Nailed to the cross with torturing smart. 
 What anguish racked his tender heart ! 
 Alas ! how bitterly he cried. 
 Tasted the vinegar, and died I 
 Cold in tiic tomb that mournful day 
 Aly Saviour's mangled body lay. 
 Well may I blush, and weep, to see 
 What Jesus bore for love of me. 
 
084 
 
 THE PRINCIPLES OF RELIGION, 
 
 But, O my soul, thy grief refrain, 
 Jesus the Siiviour lives again. 
 On the third day the CoiKiueror rose, 
 And greatly triumphed o'er his foes ; 
 Proved his recovered life, and then 
 Ascended to his heaven again. 
 
 Exalted on a shining throne 
 At God's right hand he sets him down. 
 To plead the merits of his blood. 
 And rule for all his people's good : 
 Wide o'er all worlds his power extends. 
 And well can he protect his friends. 
 May I in that blest band appear. 
 Secure from danger and from fear ! 
 
 LESSON XIV. 
 
 Of the nature of faith ayid rej>cntancc. 
 
 Thf.y must repent, and must believe. 
 Who Christ's salvation would receive. 
 
 0 may tliy Spirit faitli impart. 
 And work repentance in my heart ! 
 
 Blessed Jesus, who can be so base, 
 As to suspect thy power or grace ? 
 Or who can e'er so stupid be 
 To slight thy blessings. Lord, and thee ? 
 With humble reverent hope and love 
 
 1 to thy gracious feet would move, 
 And to thy care my all resign. 
 Resolved to be for ever thine ; 
 Secure, if thou vouchsafe to keep 
 My feeble soul among thy sheep. 
 
 The sins and follies I have done 
 Humbled in dust I would bemoan ; 
 And while past guilt I thus deplore, 
 I would repeat that guilt no more : 
 But by a life of zeal and love 
 True faith and penitence approve : 
 So shall thy grace my sins forgive, 
 Jesus shall smile, and I shall live. 
 
 LESSON XV. 
 
 the assistances and influences of the blessed Spirit. 
 
 'Tis not in my weak power alone 
 To melt this stubborn heart of stone, 
 My soul to change, my life to mend. 
 Or seek to Christ, that generous Friend. 
 
 'Tis God's own Spirit from above 
 Fixes our faith, inflames our love. 
 And makes a life divine begin 
 In wretched souls, long dead in sin. 
 
 Tiiat most important gift of heaven 
 To those that ask and seek is given : 
 Then be it my immediate care. 
 With importunity of prayer. 
 To seek it in a Saviour's name, 
 Who will not turn my hopes to shame. 
 
 God from on Iiigli hi.s grace shall pour, 
 My soul shall llourish more and more. 
 Press on with speed from grace to grace, 
 Till glory end and crown the race. 
 
 Since then the Father, and the Son, 
 And Holy Spirit, three in one. 
 Glorious beyond all speech and thought. 
 Have jointly my salvation wrought ; 
 I '11 join them in my songs of praise. 
 Now, and through heaven's eternal days. 
 
 LESSON XVI. 
 Of the means of grace which God has appointed. 
 
 What kind provision God has made, 
 That we may safe to heaven be led ! 
 For this the prophets preached and wrote, 
 For this the blessed apostles taught ; 
 Taught, as that Spirit did inspire. 
 Who fell from heaven in tongues of fire, 
 And gave them languages unknown. 
 That distant lands his grace might own. 
 His hand has kept the sacred page 
 Secure from men's and devils' rage. 
 
 For this he churches did ordain. 
 His truths and worsliip to maintain : 
 For this lie pastors did provide. 
 In those assemblies to preside : 
 And from the round of common days 
 Marked out our sabbaths to his praise. 
 Delightful day, when Christians meet ! 
 To hear, and pray, and sing, how sweet ! 
 
 For this he gives, in solemn ways, 
 Appointed tokens of his grace : 
 In sacramental pledges there. 
 His soldiers to their General swear. 
 Baptized into one common Lord, 
 They joyful meet around his board ; 
 Honour the orders of his house. 
 And speak their love, and seal their vovys. 
 
 LESSON XVII. 
 
 Of the dcsiyn and ohliyation of baptism. 
 
 In baptism washed we all must be, 
 In honour of the sacred Three, 
 To show how we are washed from sin 
 In Jesus' blood, and born again 
 By grace divine ; and thus are made 
 Members of Christ our common head. 
 The Father formed the glorious scheme. 
 And we adopted are by him. 
 
 The Son, great prophet, priest, and king, 
 Did news of this redemption bring: 
 He by his death our life procured. 
 And now bestows it as our Lord. 
 
 The Holy Spirit witness bore 
 To this blest gospel heretofore ; 
 
IN PLAIN AND EASY VERSE. 
 
 10S5 
 
 And teaches those he 's purified 
 Faitliful and patient to abide. 
 
 Into these names was I baptized ; 
 And be the honour justly prized : 
 Nor let the sacred bond be broke, 
 Nor be my covenant God forsook. 
 Thus washed I 'd keep my garments clean, 
 And never more return to sin. 
 One body now all Christians are : 
 
 0 may they in one Spirit share ! 
 And clicrish that endearing love, 
 
 In which the saints are blessed above ! 
 
 LESSON XVIII. 
 
 On the nature and design of the Lord's supper. 
 
 The memory of Christ's death is sweet, 
 When saints around his table meet, 
 And break the bread, and pour the wine. 
 Obedient to his word divine. 
 
 While they the bread and cup receive. 
 If on their Saviour they believe, 
 They feast, as on his flesh and blood ; 
 Cordial divine, and heavenly food ! 
 Thus their baptismal bond renew. 
 And love to every Christian show. 
 
 Well may their souls rejoice, and thrive : 
 Oh may the blessed hour arrive. 
 When ripe in knowledge, and in grace, 
 
 1 at that board shall find a place ! 
 And now, what there his people do 
 I would at humble distance view ; 
 Would look to Christ with grateful heart. 
 And in their pleasures take my part ; 
 Resolved, while such a sight I see, 
 
 To live to him who died for me. 
 
 LESSON XIX. 
 
 Of the nature and office of angeh. 
 
 My soul the heavenly world survey. 
 The regions of eternal day. 
 There .Jesus reigns, and round his seat 
 Millions of glorious angels meet. 
 
 Those morning stars, how bright they shine ! 
 How sweetly all their voices join 
 To praise their Maker! watchful still 
 To mark the signals of his will ; 
 While with theirout-stretrhed wings they. 'itand, 
 To fly at his divine command. 
 
 All happy as they are, and great, 
 Yet scorn they not on men to wait : 
 And little children in their arms 
 They gently bear, secure from harms. 
 
 O may I, with such humble zeal. 
 My heavenly Father's word fulfil ! 
 That I, when time has run its race. 
 May with blessed angels find a place. 
 Borne on their friendly wings on high 
 To joys like theirs, which never die. 
 
 LESSON XX. 
 Of the fall and state of the devils. 
 
 Well may I tremble, when I read 
 That sin did heaven itself invade : 
 Cursed pride, with subtilty unknown, 
 Perverted angels near God's throne : 
 They sinned against his holy name, 
 And hateful devils they became. 
 But wrath divine pursued them soon, 
 And flaming vengeance hurled them down. 
 
 Now in the pangs of fierce despair, 
 Prisoners at large they range in air ; 
 Walk through the earth, unheard, unseen, 
 And lay their snares for thoughtless men ; 
 Tempt us to sin agai.ist our God, 
 And draw us to hell's downward road. 
 
 But God can all their power restrain: 
 My Saviour holds them in his chain. 
 Till at his bar they all appear. 
 And meet their final sentence there. 
 
 LESSON XXI. 
 
 On death. 
 
 Lord, I confess thy sentence just, 
 That sinful man should turn to dust ; 
 That I ere long should yield my breath. 
 The captive of all-conquering death. 
 
 Soon will the awful hour appear. 
 When I must quit my dwelling here : 
 These active limbs, to worms a prey. 
 In the cold grave must waste away ; 
 Nor shall I share in all that 's done. 
 In this wide world, beneath the sun. 
 
 To distant climes, and scats unknown, 
 My naked spirit must be gone ; 
 To God its Maker must return, 
 And ever joy, or ever mourn. 
 
 No room for penitence and prayer. 
 No further preparation there 
 Can e'er be made ; the thought is vain : 
 My state unaltered must remain. 
 
 Awake, my soul, without delay ; 
 That if God summons thee this day, 
 Thou cheerful at his call mayst rise, 
 And spring to life beyond the skies. 
 
lOKG THE PRINCIPLES 
 
 LESSON XXII. 
 
 On the resurrection of the dead. 
 
 What awful ruins death hath made ! 
 How low the wise and great are laid ! 
 Alike the saints, and siujiers, die ; 
 Mouldering alike in dust they lie. 
 But there's a day shall change the scene, 
 How awful to the sons of men ! 
 
 -WJien the archangel's trump shall sound, 
 And shake the air, and cleave the ground ; 
 Jesus enthroned in light appears. 
 Circled with angels, bright as stars. 
 " Rise, ye that sleep," the Lord shall say : 
 And all the earth, and all the sea. 
 Yield up the nations of the dead, 
 For ages in their bowels hid. 
 Bone knows its kindred bone again. 
 All clothed anew with flesh and skin : 
 Each spirit knows its proper mate ; 
 They rise an army vast and great. 
 
 But oh what different marks they bear, 
 Of transport some, and some of fear ; 
 When marshalled in the Judge's sight. 
 These to the left, those to the right, 
 That they may that last sentence hear, 
 Which shall their endless state declare ! 
 My soul, in deep attention stay. 
 And learn the event of such a day. 
 
 LESSON XXIII. 
 
 Of judgment and eternity, heaven and hell. 
 
 When Christ to judge the world descends, 
 Thus shall he say to all his friends : 
 " Come blessed souls, that kingdom share. 
 My Father did for you prepare 
 Ere earth was founded : come, and reign 
 Where endless life and joy remain." 
 
 Then to the wicked, — " Cursed crew. 
 Depart, heaven is no place for you : 
 
 OF RELIGION, &c. 
 
 To those eternal burnings go, 
 Whose pangs the rebel angels know." 
 
 He speaks, and straight liis shining bands. 
 With fiery thunders in their hands, 
 Drive them away ; hell's lake receives 
 The wretches on its flaming waves : 
 Justice divine the gates shall bar. 
 And for a seal affix despair. 
 
 While Jesus, rising from his throne. 
 Leads his triumphant army on, 
 To enter their divine abode, 
 In the fair city of their God. 
 There everlasting pleasures grow ; 
 Full rivers of salvation flow ; 
 And all their happiness appears 
 Increasing with eternal years. 
 
 LESSON XXIV. 
 The conclusion, in a practical reflection on the whole. 
 
 And now, my heart, with reverent awe 
 From hence thine own instruction draw. 
 I at this judgment must appear ; 
 I must this solemn sentence hear, 
 (As I 'm with saints or sinners placed,) 
 " Depart, accursed," or " Come, ye blest." 
 For me the fruits of glory grow ; 
 Or hell awaits my fall below. 
 
 Eternal God ! what shall I do? 
 My nature trembles at the view : 
 My deathless soul herself surveys. 
 With joy, and terror, and amaze. 
 Oh be thy shield around me spread, 
 To guard the spirit thou hast made ! 
 Save me from snares of earth and hell, 
 And from my self preserve me well : 
 Lest all the heavenly truths I know 
 Should aggravate my guilt and woe ! 
 
 Thy power in weakness is displayed, 
 If babes by thee be conquerors made ; 
 It Satan's malice shall confound. 
 And heaven with praises shall resound. 
 
TRACTS, &c 
 
No. I. 
 
 A DISSERTATION 
 
 SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S SCHEME, 
 
 REDUCING THE SEVERAL HISTORIES CONTAINED IN THE EVANGELISTS 
 
 TO THEIR PROPER ORDER. 
 
 The name of Sir Isaac Newton is so justly celebrated 
 through the learned world, that they who know he 
 has endeavoured to establish a method of settling a 
 chronology of our Lord's life, (for I think one can 
 hardly call it a harmony of the Evangelists,) quite 
 different from what has hitherto been advanced, 
 may be curious to know what it is, and why we 
 presume to depart from it; since it is so natural to 
 imagine, that such a genius must demonstrate what- 
 ever it attempts to prove. I therefore think it in- 
 cumbent upon me to lay the scheme before my 
 reader, as I promised long since to do. (Note (m) 
 on Matt. iv. 2.5.) After which I shall briefly pre- 
 sent, in one view, those reasons (many of which 
 have been already hinted) which compelled me to 
 tread a difierent road, after having most attentively 
 considered all that this illustrious writer has urged 
 for the support of his plan. 
 
 I cannot set myself to this task, without feeling 
 I the fatigue of it sensibly allayed, by the pleasure 
 with which I reflect on the firm persuasion wliich a 
 person of his unequalled sagacity must have enter- 
 tained of the truth of Christianity, in ofder to his 
 being engaged to take such pains in illustrating the 
 sacred oracles. A pleasure, which I doubt not 
 every good reader will share with me ; especially 
 as (according to the best information, whether 
 public or private, I could ever get) his firm faith 
 in the divine revelation, discovered itself in the most 
 genuine fruits of substantial virtue and piety ; and 
 consequently gives us the justest reason to conclude, 
 that he is now rejoicing in the happy efl'ccts of it, 
 infinitely more than in all the applause which his 
 4 A 
 
 philosophical works have procured him ; though 
 they have commanded a fame lasting as the world, 
 the true theory of which he had discovered, and (in 
 spite of all the vain efforts of ignorance, pride, and 
 their offspring bigotry) have arrayed him, as it 
 were, in the beams of the sun, and inscribed bis 
 name among the constellations of heaven. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton has given us his sentiments on 
 the chronology of our Lord's history, in his Observa- 
 tions on Prophecy, book I. chap. XI. page 144 — 
 188. and, according to his usual method, he has 
 done it concisely, only marking out some of the 
 outlines ; and after having endeavoured to esta- 
 blish some of the chief principles, by arguments 
 which he judged to be conclusive, he leaves it to 
 his readers to apply those principles to several other 
 particulars; which being dcducible from them, he 
 did not think it necessary to enter into. Such is 
 the method he has also taken in his chronology of 
 ancient kingdoms ; and it was most suitable to that 
 great genius, which bore him with such amazing 
 velocity through so vast a circle of various litera- 
 ture. Yet it must render him less sensible of the 
 difficulty attending some of his schemes, than lie 
 would otherwise have been ; and may leave room 
 to those, who are justly sensible how much they are 
 his inferiors, to show by their remarks upon him, 
 how possible it is for the greatest of mankind to 
 be misled by some plausible appearances of things 
 in a general view of them, against which invincible 
 objections may arise, when they come to be applied 
 to unthought-of particulars. 
 
 There are many facts recorded in the Evangelists^ 
 
loyo 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 the order of which is so plain, tliat all hannonics 
 agree in tiieni : and such especially are most of 
 those with which the history begins, and most of 
 those with which it ends, though there be some 
 disputes about a few circumstances relating to the 
 resurrection. But Sir Isaac enters not at all into 
 that part of the history, nor into any thing tliat 
 precedes the appearance of John the Baptist. 
 
 He lays it dow n as the foundation of all his other 
 reasonings and calculations here, (on the authority 
 of Luke iii. 1.) that John began to baptize in the 
 fifteenth year of Tiberius, reckoning his reign to 
 have commenced from the death of Augustus, 
 which happened, he says, Aug. 28.* in the year of 
 our Lord (according to the common reckoning) 29. 
 This is said (Newt, page 147.) to have been in the 
 year of the Julian period 4727, which must surely 
 be an error of the press for 4742, the year of that 
 period which is universally known to have answer- 
 ed to the 29th of the received Christian era. He 
 supposes, the Baptist's ministry opened in the 
 spring, when the weather was warm ; and allowing 
 the remainder of the year to the spreading of his repu- 
 tation, he concludes, that our Lord was baptized 
 before the end of if, when Tiberius's IGth year was 
 begun. (Matt. iii. I — 17. Mark i. 1 — 11. Luke iii. 
 1—18,21—2.3. John i. 6—18. sect. 15—18.) After 
 this the temptation ensued, (Matt. iv. 1 — 11. Mark 
 i. 12, 1.3. Luke iv. 1 — 13. sect. 19.) and all those 
 testimonies of John to Jesus, and the interviews 
 between Jesus and his first disciples, (which are 
 mentioned John i. 19, to the end, sect 20 — 22.) as 
 likewise our Lord's journey to Galilee, and his first 
 miracle there. (John ii. 1 — 11. sect. 23.) Then 
 followed our Lord's FIRST PASSOVER, which, 
 according to Sir Isaac, (and I would be understoRd 
 through all this part of the dissertation to be only 
 reporting his opinion,) happened A. D. 30. at which 
 he drove the traders out of the temple, (John ii. 12, 
 to the end, sect. 24.) had that celebrated conference 
 with Nicodemus, (John iii. 1^ — 21. sect. 25, 26.) and 
 continued for some time to abide in Judea, baptiz- 
 ing by his disciples, while John baptized in Enon, 
 and bore his last recorded testimony to him. (John 
 iii. 22, to the end, sect. 27.) 
 
 Thus the summer was spent, till John was thrown 
 into prison about November; (Matt. xiv. 3 — .5. 
 Luke iii. 19, 20. Mark vi. 17—20. sect. 28.) and our 
 Lord passed through Samaria, in his way to Galilee, 
 about the winter solstice, that is, four months before 
 harvest: (John iv. 1—42. sect. 29, 30.) See note 
 (c) on John iv. 3.5. After which he went, first to 
 Cana in Galilee ; (John iv. 4.3 — .54. sect. 31. — ) and 
 then, after a circuit, or rather journey, in Galilee, 
 (Matt. iv. 12. Mark i. 14. 15. Luke iv. 14, 1.5. sect. 
 31,32. — ) he came and preached at Nazareth, Luke 
 
 ♦ This is a small mistake ; for Suetonius (Aug. 100.) fixes it to xiv. 
 Kit. Seiitfinli that is, Aug. 10. 
 
 iv. 16—30. sect. — 32.) and being rejected there, went 
 and settled fora while at Capernaum, where he called 
 Peter, Andrew, James, and John. (Matt. iv. 13 — 22. 
 Marki. 16—20. Luke iv. 31,32; v. 1—11. sect. 33, 
 
 34. ) This our author thinks must have taken up all 
 the spring, and must bring us to our Lord's SECOND 
 PASSOVER, A. D. 31. 
 
 It is after this passovcr that Sir Isaac places 
 another circuit through Galilee : which also carried 
 his fame througliout all Syria, and added multitudes 
 IVom thence, and from Decapolis, to those that fol- 
 lowed iiim from Judea and Jerusalem. (Matt. iv. 23, 
 to the end. Mark i. 28. Luke iv. 44. sect.- 36.) To 
 these he preached the celebrated sermon on the 
 mount : (Matt. v. vi. vii. sect. 37 — 43.) Immedi- 
 ately after which, he cured the leper, (Matt. viii. 
 1—4. Mark i. 40, to the end. Luke v. 12—16. 
 sect. 44.) the centurion's servant, (Matt. viii. 5 — 13. 
 Luke vii. 1 — 10. sect. 55.) and Peter's moUier-in- 
 law, with many others. (Matt. viii. 14 — 17. Mark 
 i. 29—38. Luke iv. 38—44. sect. 35, 36.—) 
 
 By this time Sir Isaac supposes the feast of 
 tabernacles approached, when our Lord passing 
 through Samaria was refused a lodging ; (Luke ix. 
 51 — .56. sect. 127. — ) to w hich he strangely supposes 
 a reference. Matt. viii. 19, 20. (Sect. 69.— ) After 
 which, w hen the feast w as over, and Christ returned 
 from Jerusalem toward winter, he stilled a tempest 
 as he crossed the sea, (Matt. viii. 23 — 27. Mark iv. 
 
 35, to the end. Luke viii. 22—25. sect. 69.) and 
 when he had landed, dispossessed the legion : 
 (Matt. viii. 28, to the end. Mark v. 1 — 21. Luke viii. 
 26 — 40. sect. 70.) and then returning again to the 
 western side of the sea, cured the paralytic, (Matt, 
 ix. 1—8. Mark ii. 1—12. Luke v. 18—26. sect. 
 45._) called Matthew, (Matt. ix. 9. Mark ii. 14. 
 Luke V. 27, 28. sect. — 45.) and having been enter- 
 tained at his house, (Matt. ix. 10 — 17. Mark ii. 
 15 — 22. Luke v. 29, to the end. sect. 71.) went out 
 to raise Jairus's daughter, curing the woman who 
 had a bloody flux by the way. (Matt, ix. 18—26, 
 Mark v, 22, to the end. Luke viii. 41, to the end. 
 sect. 72. — ) And after performing other cures, (Malt, 
 ix. 27 — 34. sect. — 72.) lie took another circuit in 
 Galilee, (Matt. ix. 35, to the end. sect.— 73.) gave 
 a charge to his apostles, and sent them out : (Matt. 
 X. 1, to the end; xi. 1. Mark vi. 7 — 13. Luke ix. 
 1^ — 6. sect. 74 — 76.) after which, having answered 
 the messengers which John had sent, he discourses 
 with the people concerning him, (Matt. xi. 2 — 19. 
 Luke vii. 18 — 35. sect. 57, .58.) and upbraids the 
 impenitent cities of Galilee. (Matt. xi. 20, to the 
 end. sect. ,59.) And as these events would employ 
 the winter and the spring, our author places the 
 THIRD PASSOVER here, A. D. 32. 
 
 He does not indeed expressly assert, that thi.s 
 was the feast at which our Lord cured the lame 
 man at the pool of Bethcsda in Jerusalem, and 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. I. 
 
 1091 
 
 made that defence before the Sanhedrim, related in 
 the 5th chapter of John : (sect. 46 — 48.) but ac- 
 cording to this general plan, this must be its proper 
 place. And that there was a passover about this 
 time, he argues from the story of the disciples 
 rubbing out the ears of corn, which is related as in 
 this place. (Matt. xii. 1—8. Mark ii. 2.3, to the end. 
 Luke vi. 1 — 5. sect. 49.) Soon after which happen- 
 ed the cure of the withered hand, (Matt. xii. 9 — 15. 
 Mark iii. 1 — 7. Luke vi. 6 — 11. sect. 50.) and a 
 variety of other miracles, (Matt. xii. 15 — 21. Mark 
 iii. 7 — 12. sect. 51.) with that of the dispossession 
 imputed to a confederacy with Beelzebub. (Matt, 
 xii. 22, to the end. Mark iii. 22, to the end. Luke 
 xi. 14 — 36. sect. 61^ — 04.) Here Sir Isaac places 
 the parables delivered at the sea-side, as he sup- 
 poses about seed-time, or the feast of taber- 
 nacles, (Matt. xiii. 1— .52. Mark iv. 1 — 34. Luke 
 viii. 4 — 18. sect. Go — 68.) his renewed visit to 
 Nazareth, (Matt. xiii. 53, to the end. Mark vi. 1 — 6. 
 sect. 73. — ) and the return of the twelve, after 
 having spent, as he supposes, a year in their em- 
 bassy. (Mark vi. 30, 31. Luke ix. 10. sect. 78. — ) 
 
 About this time our author places the beheading 
 of John the Baptist, after he had been in prison 
 two years and a quarter. (Matt. xiv. 1 — 12. Mark 
 vi. 14 — 29. Luke ix. 7 — 9. sect. 77.) After which 
 those multitudes resorted to Christ, whom he fed 
 with the five loaves, (Matt. xiv. 13 — 23. Mark vi. 
 30—46. Luke ix. 10—17. John vi. 1—15. sect. 78.) 
 and to whom, after having crossed the lake, (Matt, 
 xiv. 24, to the end. Mark vi. 47, to the end. Joiin 
 
 vi. 16 — 21. sect. 79.) he discourses concerning the 
 bread of life. (John vi. 21, to the end. sect. 80—82.) 
 As we are expressly told, John vi. 4. that when this 
 miracle was wrought the passover was near. Sir 
 Isaac concludes this to be the FOURTH PASS- 
 OVER after our Lord's baptism, A. D. 33. and 
 Hgues from John vii. 1. that Christ did not cele- 
 brate it at Jerusalem. 
 
 Quickly after this, followed the dispute with the 
 Scribes wiio came from Jerusalem. (Matt. xv. 1 — 
 20. Mark vii. 1—23. sect. 83, 84.) After which our 
 Lord departed into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon ; 
 and after having dispossessed the daugiitcr of a 
 Syrophncnician woman, (Matt xv. 21 — 28. Mark 
 
 vii. 24, to the end. sect. 85.) he returned to the sea 
 of Galilee, where he fed the four thousand ; (Matt. 
 XV. 29, to the end. Mark viii. 1 — 10. sect. 86.) and 
 after having replied to the unreasonable demand 
 the Pharisees made of a sign from heaven, and 
 cautioned his disciples against the leaven of their 
 false doctrine, (Matt. xvi. 1 — 12. Mark viii. 11—26. 
 sect. 87.) became to Ca?sarca Philippi ; and having 
 by the way acknowledged himself to be the Mes- 
 siah, he was afterwards transfigured, and ejected 
 an obstinate daemon. (Matt. xvi. 13, to the end ; 
 xvii. 1—21. Mark viii. 27, to the end; ix. 1 — 29. 
 
 4 A 2 
 
 Luke ix. 18 — 43. sect. 88 — 91.) He then came to 
 Capernaum, and made provision by a miracle to 
 pay the tribute ; (Matt. xvii. 24, to the end. sect. 92.) 
 and there, or in the neighbourhood of it, discoursed 
 of humility, forgiveness, &c. (Matt, xviii. 1, to the 
 end. Mark ix. 33, to the end. Luke ix. 46 — 48. sect. 
 93—95.) 
 
 Our author takes no notice of the mission of the 
 seventy, and their return ; (Luke x. 1 — 24. sect. 97, 
 106.) but he would probably have placed it here, 
 previous to that which he supposes to be Christ's 
 last departure from Galilee, (Matt. xix. 1, 2. Mark 
 
 x. 1. sect. 135. — ) when he went up to the feast of 
 tabernacles. (John vii. viii. sect. 98 — 105.) Neither 
 does he take notice of the visit to Betliany ; (Luke 
 X. 38, to the end, sect. 108.) nor of the date of any of 
 those discourses which are recorded by Luke, (from 
 chap.xi. 1. to chap, xviii. 14. sect. 109 — 129.) except 
 where any passages happen to be parallel to tliose 
 in Matthew, to which he hints they are to be reduced. 
 
 He then introduces our Lord's visit to Jerusalem, 
 and the cure of the blind man at the feast of dedi- 
 cation ; (John ix. x. sect. 130 — 134.) after which 
 Christ retired beyond Jordan, (John x. 40.) where 
 he treats of divorce, (Matt. xix. 3 — 12. Mark x. 
 2 — 12. sect.— 1.35.) blesses the little children, (Matt, 
 xix. 13—1.5. Mark x. 13—16. Luke xviii. 15—17. 
 sect. 136.) answers, and remarks upon, the young 
 ruler. (Matt. xix. 16, to the end. xx. 1 — 16. Mark 
 X. 17—31. Luke xviii. 18—30. sect. 137, 138.) 
 After which, on the death of Lazarus, he returns to 
 Bethany, and raises him from the dead; (John 
 
 xi. 1—46. sect. 1.39, 140.) and then withdraws to 
 Ephraim, till the approach of the FIFTH PASS- 
 OVER after his baptism, which was the last of his 
 life: the particulars of whicli are related at large 
 hy the evangelists, and with the subsequent cir- 
 cumstances of his death, resurrection, appearances, 
 and ascension, make up the rest of this important 
 history : but the contents need not be inserted 
 here, as, for any thing that appears, there is no 
 material diflerence between a harmony formed on 
 iSir Isaac's principles, or on ours. 
 
 I have taken tlie trouble of (juoting the particular 
 passages in each evangelist, as well as of every 
 correspondent section in the Family Expositor, that 
 it may be easy for any who desires it, to read over 
 the whole Paraphrase according to this new scheme ; 
 and also to see how it transposes the passages in 
 question, and how it differs from what I judge to be 
 the most exact method of disposition. And the at- 
 tentive reader will easily see, that there is a flifl'cr- 
 cnce in the order of several of the stories, and a 
 much greater in the dates we have respectively 
 assigned to several which arc placed in the same 
 order by both. 
 
 A repetition of all the particulars would perhaps 
 be disagreeable. I shall therefore content myself 
 
 I 
 
TRACTS. 
 
 liorc with observing in general, that Sir Isaae con- 
 stantly follows tlie order of Matthew, whatever 
 transpositions of Mark and Luke it may reiiuirc ; 
 whieh wc do not : and he also concludes, there 
 were FIVE PASSOVERS from the baptism to the 
 death of Christ, whereas we, with the generality of 
 harmonizers, suppose there were but FOUR. I 
 have in my notes hinted at some considerations 
 which determined me to the method I have taken : 
 but it will be expected I slioulil here at least toucli 
 upon tlicni again, and give a view of tlicm together ; 
 whieh I the rather do, as they strongly illustrate 
 each other. 
 
 The grand reason why I do not every where 
 follow the order of Matthew, is in one word this : 
 That both Mark and Luke do not only in several 
 instances agree to place tlie stories otherwise, 
 though we have not the least reason to tliir.k, that 
 one w rote from the other ; but also, that tliey do, 
 one or another of them, expressly assert, " that the 
 events in question actually happened in a different 
 order from tiiat in w hich Matthew relates them :" 
 whereas it is observable, that in all such cases 
 Matthew does not so expressly assert his order, as 
 to contradict theirs. A few instances of this may 
 be expedient ; and a few shall suffice. 
 
 Tlius, though Matthew relates the cure of Peter's 
 mother-in-law, (sect. ;35.) in his eighth chap. ver. 
 14, 15. after the sermon on the mount, and accord- 
 ing to Sir Isaae some months after the call of Peter, 
 Andrew, James, and John, whieh he had related, 
 chap. iv. 18 — 22. Mark says, this cure was imme- 
 diately after they came out of the synagogue, into 
 which they entered straightway after the call of 
 those disciples. Mark i. 20, 21, 29. 
 
 Again, though Matthew gives us the story of 
 Christ's calming the sea, dispossessing Legion, and 
 curing the paralytic. In the latter part of his eighth 
 and beginning of his ninth chapters, and does not 
 relate the parables of the sower, tares, &c. delivered 
 from the ship, till the thirteenth ; and places so 
 many facts between, that Sir Isaae concludes the 
 miracles to have been wrought in winter, some time 
 before the passover A. T). 32. and the parables not 
 to have been delivered till about the feast of taber- 
 nacles, almost a year after. Mark is very punctual 
 in assuring us, (cliap. iv. 35. ct seq.) that, in the 
 evening of the sanie day in which the parables were 
 delivered from the ship, Jesus calmed the sea, and 
 dispossessed Legion ; for which reason I have fol- 
 lowed him, and placed these miracles immediately 
 <ifter the parables ; (sect. 09, 70.) but have set 
 that of the paralytic much higher, (sect. 4.5.) as both 
 Luke and Mark connect it strongly w ith the cure of 
 the leper, which Sir Isaac allows to have happened 
 immediately after the sermon on the mount. 
 
 Matthew relates the mes.sage of John, and those 
 subsequent discourses of our Lord, which are con- 
 
 tained in liis eleventh chapter, after having given us 
 an account of the mission of the apostles in his 
 tenth. But Luke (who more accurately distin- 
 guishes between their call, Luke vi. 13 — 16. and 
 mission, Luke ix. 2 — 6. as Mark also does, Mark 
 iii. 13 — 19. and vi. 7 — 13.) places this message, to- 
 gether with the account of several miracles on 
 wliicli it is founded, as well as the circuit which 
 our Lord made m ilh the twelve before he sent them 
 out, and the fore-mentioned miracles of calming the 
 sea, dispossessing Legion, 8cc. between these two 
 events, that is, the call, and actual mission, of the 
 twelve, the one of which must in all reason be sup- 
 posed considerably to precede the other : in which 
 he also agrees with Mark, as was observed above. 
 
 Matthew also relates the story of the disciples 
 rubbing out the ears of corn, and the cure of the 
 witlicrcd hand, (chap. xii. 1 — 13.) after the mission 
 of the twelve: whereas both Luke and Mark place 
 whichever of those events they mention, before 
 the choice of them : (see Mark iii. 1 — 6. Luke vi, 
 1 — 11.) and Luke expressly says, that choice was 
 in those days, (Luke vi. 12, 13.) that is, at the time 
 which followe<l the fore-mentioned events. 
 
 These, and the discourse on the unpardonable 
 sin, (sect. Gl.) which we readily allow might have 
 happened twice, are all the most material transpo- 
 sitions we have made : and I must submit it to the 
 judgment of the reader, whether it be not more for 
 the honour of the New Testament in general, to 
 suppose that Matthew might not intend exactly to 
 preserve the order of the history, where he asserts 
 nothing directly concerning it, than to suppose both 
 Mark and Luke to have mistaken it, when they so 
 expressly declare their regard to it ; as in some of 
 these instances they do. 
 
 Sir Isaac indeed urges, that Matthew (as well as 
 John, in whom I have made scarce any transpo- 
 sition) was an eye-witness : but this can have no 
 weight ; unless it be certain, that he every where 
 intended to observe an exact order, which for variety 
 of reasons or causes, many of which may be to us 
 unknown, he might not be solicitous about.* 
 
 And I cannot forbear observing, that on this great 
 man's own principles there cannot be a great deal 
 in the argument : for as Matthew was not called 
 till chap. ix. 9. he could not, according to his hypo- 
 thesis, have been an eye and ear-witness to all the 
 events from chap. iv. to that place : and if, as Sir 
 Isaac also urges, he was sent out as one of the 
 twelve, chap. x. init. and continued a year on his 
 embassy, he could not be such a witness to what 
 passed from the beginning of chap. xi. to the end of 
 chap. xiii. where he places their return after a year's 
 absence. And these are the chapters where we 
 
 * Mr. Jerc. Jones has Ijilitcd at some conjectured reasons, in his 
 vindication of the former part of St. M.itthew's gospel: see chap. iii. 
 pa^e 2!)— .14. 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. I. 
 
 1003 
 
 have made Ibe greatest and most material transpo- 
 sitions, the others hardly deserving a mention. 
 
 I ■ If this branch of Sir Isaac's argument falls to the 
 ground, and it be not allowed that Matthewobserved 
 a strict chronological order ; that part of his rea- 
 soning, by which he would fix the date of eacli 
 event, must fail with it. For if it were to be 
 granted, that Matthew hinted at the dill'erent sea- 
 sons of the year when they passed, we could not 
 fix the chronology by that, unless we were sure 
 that each was such a season of a dilferent j'ear, and 
 not of the same ; which on this supposition we 
 cannot assert. But I think it very easy ( ex nhun- 
 danti) to show, that passages which Sir Isaac pro- 
 duces as indications of the seasons, are not so ; or 
 at least do not point tlicm out so punctually, as they 
 ought to do, in order to justify the uses he would 
 make of them. 
 
 One cannot but wonder, that some of the argu- 
 ments which I have now in my eye, should ever 
 have been urged by a writer of sucli extraordinary 
 discernment. As, for instance, that he shoul ! con- 
 clude the sermon on the mount must be preached 
 later than the passover, because multitudes follow- 
 ed Clirist in the open fields, wliich lie says, (page 
 151.) was an argument of the summer season ; 
 tliough it is so apparent, tliat when there were those 
 five thousand men, besides women and cliildrcn, 
 assembled around him, wliom he fed with the five 
 loaves, the passover was only at hand. (.John vi. 4.) 
 — Or that lie should say, (page 153.) the storm men- 
 
 |j tioncd Matt. viii. 23. shows the winter v^as " now 
 come on," as if there were no storms in tlie summer. 
 — Or, once more, that it must be seed-time, wiicn 
 
 ; the parables in Matt. xiii. were delivered, '• because 
 sowing seed is mentioned in them ;" (page 151.) 
 when it is so evident, (as I have observed else- 
 where, note (d) on Mark iv. 3.) the very same prin- 
 
 I ciple would prove it to be harvest, as another para- 
 ] ble delivered the same day refers to that season. 
 
 I am not willing to swell this Dissertation, and 
 therefore omitting many remarks which might 
 • easily be made on other passages, I will conclude 
 with the mention of two or three particulars, which 
 might contribute to lead this illustrious writer into 
 some error. 
 
 I| One thing that has occasioned tliis, was his taking 
 i it for granted, as I observed before, that the fif- 
 
 II teenth year of Tiberius, in which .John the Baptist 
 I opened his ministry, must needs be reckoned from 
 
 the death of Augustus ; whereas it ought to be com- 
 I puted from the time when Augustus made Iiim bis 
 i colleague in the empire. (See note (b) on Luke 
 , iii. 1.) 
 
 Another is, his admitting the rabbinical rules 
 for the translation of the .lewish feasts, of which we 
 have not one word either in the Scriptures, or in 
 Joseph U.S, or Philo. Yet it is on this principle, that 
 
 he rejects some years from the possibility of being 
 the year of Christ's sufiering, because, as he ima- 
 gines, the passover, two years before each, would 
 not fall late enough to have the corn ripe on the 
 sabbath that succeeded the paschal. * (Sec notes 
 (b) and (c), on Luke vi. 1.) 
 
 And to mention no more, a third principle (which 
 is also very precarious, and yet has much stress laid 
 upon it in Sir Isaac's scheme) is, liis taking it for 
 granted, that whenever Matthew speaks of Clirist's 
 going about Galilee and preaching in the syna- 
 gogues there, he intended to tell us, that our Lord 
 made a circuit over all the country ; which, if it 
 were admitted, might indeed make it necessary (if 
 Matthew's order were to be the standard) to sup- 
 pose a longer space of time, than vi e or most others 
 allow, to have passed between his entrance on his 
 public work, and the passover just preceding the 
 rubbing out the ears of corn ; which we own on 
 both sides to have been two years before his death. 
 For four circuits of this kind are mentioned, before 
 we come to the twelfth chapter of Matthew, where 
 the story last referred to is recorded : the first, John 
 iv. 43. and Luke iv. 14, 15. the second, Matt. iv. 23. 
 the third. Matt. ix. 35. and the fourth. Matt. xi. 1. 
 But if we should grant, that his going about all 
 Galilee in the second of tlicse instances, and his 
 going about all the cities and villages in the third, 
 (though that might only be those on the shore of the 
 sea of Tiberias,) were to be taken ever so literally ; 
 yet his passing through Galilee in his way from 
 Sichar to Nazareth in the first instance, and his de- 
 parting, tliat is, setting out, to teach and to preach 
 in their cities in the fourth, can infer no such con- 
 clusion. 
 
 This might be suggested, even if Matthew's order 
 w^re to be admitted, and would invalidate the ar- 
 gument for protracting the years of our Lord's 
 ministry on that supposition : but it is to be re- 
 membered, we have produced arguments to prove, 
 that order must sometimes be inverted ; and par- 
 ticularly, that Christ going about all the cities and 
 villages, (Matt. ix. 35. sect. 73.) and his departing 
 to teach and to preach in their cities, (Matt. xi. 1. 
 sect. 76.) was some considerable time after the pass- 
 over, after which tlie cars of corn were rubbed out. 
 (Matt. xii. 1. sect. 49.) 
 
 On the whole, I think, that if our order be ad- 
 mitted, there is no part of Christ's ministry which 
 seems so crowded with business, as that between 
 his last passover but one, and the following feast of 
 dedication. But here, our harmony allows more 
 time for the work in (Jalilee, than Sir Isaac, who 
 supposes " Christ never returned thither after the 
 feast of tabernacles :" (page 157.) and I leave the 
 
 * I shall content mysflf with nhsiTviiipr hi-rc, that on tlii>se priiici. 
 pk's Sir Isiiiir pl.ircs thi- pnssoviT, A. I). M. on \\'( ihn-sdHy, March 28.— 
 A. I>, 32. on M'.nday, April 14.— A. U. 33. on Kriday, April 3.— and 
 A. n. 34. on Friday, Apnl 2.3. 
 
1094 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 reader fo jiidfcc, wlictlier, if such a variety of jour- 
 neys and events must be allowed to have happened 
 in these nine months, or, according to him, in six, 
 we may not, by a parity of reason, or rather with 
 greater, eouiprehend all the preceding within the 
 couipass of about sixteen ; especially wiicn it is 
 considered that, according to Sir Isaac, that pro- 
 gress of our Lord, for which tiie apostles were 
 intended to make way, and that after the embassy 
 of the seventy, must be thrown into the first six 
 months of this year, and is an extreme, and, I 
 think, insurmountable dillieulty, into whicli we 
 shall not be driven.* 
 
 I shall conclude this Dissertation with one re- 
 flection, which may perhaps be of some use to those 
 who have l)ut little relish for the niceties of tiiis 
 inquiry. I mean, tliat when we find this great 
 master, and, I had almost said, so far as the title 
 can be applied to a mortal man, this great father of 
 reason, falling into such obvious mistakes, as I 
 have been obliged here to point out, it tends to give 
 us an humbling idea of the imperfections of the 
 
 * To make the reader more sensible of tliic, I sli;ill add a brief sur- 
 vey of the cnin|iass of time, within whii li I suppose Ihe pi iiiripal events 
 between the several passovers of our Lord's ministry to have hap. 
 pened ; referrin:;- hiin to tlie followinf^ chronological table for a more 
 exact view of them. 
 
 Events uhich we suppose betireen l/ie first and sccniul of our Lord's 
 passoi-ers. 
 
 Onr Lord spends the summer, and be;;inninj; of the winter, in 
 .Tndea ; about the winter solstice, passes tliroujih Samaria into Galilee; 
 (sect. 25 - .30} sjn-nds the remainder of Ihe winter and spring in a cir- 
 cuit tliron^ih (iaiilee, in whieli are included his visit, to Nazareth, and 
 short stay at C.ipernanm ; and towards the close of the circuit, havin;; 
 preaclie(f his celebrated sermon on the mount, returns to Capernaum. 
 (Sect. 31 — 45.) 
 
 Events between the second and third passoiyer. 
 
 After vindicating what passed upon rubbing out the ear.s of corn, 
 and curinu tlie withered hand, he tiavels to Ihc sea of G.ililee, choo.ses 
 his apovtles, and niakes another abode at Capernaum; visits Nain, and 
 dismisses .T. din's messeh;;ers ; all which pass before the end of May. 
 (sect 46— G I.) Then tiavels, will] thetwche in his tr.iin, (Luke viii. 
 I. IVI.itt. ix. 3'>.) tliroil-h tlie places near the sea of Tiberias, per- 
 haps, iliiriiit;- the monihs of ,)uiie, July, and August; (sect, (jl — 7.'J.) 
 and intending a much more extensive circuit, despatches the twelve to 
 make way for liim, and probably setting out (piickly after them, 
 might employ six months in this part of it, (sect. 71-77.) and leave 
 Knfiicient time for his interview with the live thousand whom he mira. 
 cuhnisly fed, and his conference with the scribes and pharisees from 
 Jerusalem, before the next passover. (Sect. 78 — 84 ) 
 
 Events between Christ's third passover anil the feast of deilicalian, 
 whicli preceded his foi/rtk. 
 
 Allowing tlwtime lietween the passover and the end of May for his 
 journey to the coastsofTyre and Sidon,and other places in Galilee, he 
 might reliirii to D.ilnianiith.i, and feed the four Ihoiisand by that tmie ; 
 f^ect. 85, 8fi.) and if snbsetpient events and discourses (recorded sect. 
 87 — 90 ) employed him lill the end of June, he might then send out 
 the seventy, and tliey nii^lit «^t^ily nieet him at Jerusalem at the feast 
 of tabernacles in September ; between which, and the feast of dedica. 
 tion near the end of Di-i-einher, we must place his l.ist circuit in 
 Galilee; (sect. 97—127.) imless, which is pos..^ilili., we suppose it to 
 have been be;;nn (piickly after the mission of the seventy, and so some 
 part of July and Se[ttem!)er to Jiave been employed in it. And indeed 
 one cannot 'ma^'ine any necessity, that alt the seventy, or all the 
 apostles, should Inive finished their projress. before our Lord began to 
 follow those who were se.nt to the nearest places. Or, if we should 
 suppose it, and f<illow Sir Ivi.n.'s scheme, we must, of necessity, place 
 the two circiiils, which followed these twc) eniltassie'', within this 
 space of time, as was hinted aliove , whereas, if we consider the .jour, 
 ney to the coast of Tyie and Sioon as an appendix to the formei', we 
 may (aecfn cling to our scIumiic) assi-,;ii near ei..;ht nnniths to that grand 
 tour of our L-'rd, in which he tollow<'d llie twelve, which might make 
 it convenient tr) de^^pntdi tli;il, in "hirh he followed the seventy, in 
 liroporti'inably less time. And I bi-ln-ve, that if we c<nisi<ler (iaiiiee 
 li'.t to have been lar.;er tlian three or four of our western couiilies, we 
 shall more easily acquiesce in the cuinpetoucy of the time assigned to 
 these visits to it. 
 
 human mind in its present state. And, consc- 
 (|uently, we may leain from it two of the most im- 
 portant lessons that can be imagined in social life : 
 — A caution, lest we assert our own opinions with 
 too dogmatical an air ; — and a care to avoid such 
 petulancy in censuring the mistakes of others, as if 
 we thought none but the weakest and most con- 
 temptible of mankind were capable of being misled 
 by the specious appearances of some iiiconeltisivc 
 arguments. And I will venture to say, that if Sir 
 Isaac Newton's error in the order of the harmony 
 teach us this candour, it will be a much greater 
 benefit to us, than if he had placed every circum- 
 stance relating to it beyond all possibility of further 
 dispute. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 I never had, nor never took, an opportunity of 
 looking into Dupin's Life of Christ, till about a 
 year ago, long after the publication of the second 
 edition of my Paraphrase on the Evangelists : but 
 then I found, to my agreeable surprise, a more 
 perfect agreement between his scheme of the har- 
 mony and mine, than I expected any where to 
 have met with ; and particularly in the story of the 
 resurrection. 
 
 Of the 203 sections, into which I have divided 
 the evangelists, we diU'er only in the order of 29: 
 and as several of these are inseparably connected, 
 there are only, on the whole, nine stories or dis- 
 courses, in which there is a variety in our order. 
 
 The first, sect. 12. The wise men's visit to 
 Christ ; which he places before the presentation, 
 sect. 11. 
 
 The second, sect. 37 — 13. Matthew's account of 
 tiie sermon on the mount; which he supposes to 
 have been coincident with that in Luke, sect. 53, 54. 
 which I consider as a repetition of it. 
 
 The third, sect. 69, 70. The stilling the tempest, 
 and dispossessing Legion, which he places before 
 the calling of Matthew, and immediately after 
 .sect. 36. 
 
 The fourth, sect. 96. Christ's reproving .John 
 for an instance of the narrowness of his spirit ; 
 which, as a similar and undetermined fact, he sub- 
 joins to sect. 93. Christ's checking the ambition of 
 his disciples. 
 
 The fifth, sect. 106. The return of the seventy ; 
 which he connects with the story of their mission, 
 sect. 97. 
 
 Tlie sixth, sect. 118. Christ's urging the neces- 
 sity of striving for heaven, &c. which he strangely 
 introduces between sect. 151 and 158. 
 
 The seventh, the discourses and facts, sect. 
 126 — 135. which he scatters promiscuously, after 
 sect. 105. and elsewhere. 
 
 The eighth, sect. 170. The intimation of Judas's 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. II. 
 
 1095 
 
 treachery ; which he introduces after the eucharist, 
 sect. 172. 
 
 And the last, sect. 181. The warning Christ gave 
 of Peter's denying him ; whicli he joins with sect. 
 171. though I take them to be two difierent predic- 
 tions of the same event. 
 
 The reader may see my reasons for the order in 
 which I have placed most of these sections, in tlie 
 notes upon tliera : but I cannot forbear tiiinking, 
 that such a coincidence in all the rest, where the 
 one could not write from the other, is a strong pre- 
 sumption in favour of both. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 A DISSERTATION 
 
 ON 
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT, 
 
 AS 
 
 PROVED FROM THE FACTS RECORDED IN THE HISTORICAL 
 
 BOOKS OF IT. 
 
 Nothing can be more evident, than that a firm and 
 cordial belief of the inspiration of the sacred Scrip- 
 ture is of the highest moment; not only to the edi- 
 fication and peace of the church, but in a great 
 measure to its very existence. For if this be given 
 up, the authority of the revelation is enervated, and 
 its use destroyed : the star which is to direct our 
 course, is clouded ; our compass is broke to pieces ; 
 and we are left to make the voyage of life in sad 
 uncertainty, amidst a thousand rocks, and shelves, 
 and quicksands. I hope, therefore, I may perform 
 a service acceptable to God and my Christian bre- 
 thren, while I endeavour, as plainly and as briedy 
 as I can, to place some leading proofs of it in a 
 convincing view. And I undertake the task the 
 more willingly, as in the preface to the first volume 
 of niy Family Expositor I laid myself under an 
 obligation, several years ago, to attempt somethitig 
 of this kind, and have often been reminded of it by 
 persons for whom I have the highest regard. 
 
 I then proposed to handle the subject in a few 
 sermons, to be added to those, long since published, 
 on the evidences of tlie gospel. lJut on a review of 
 that particular connexion, which the argument I 
 am here to pursue has with the history of the 
 New Testament, I apprehend it could no where 
 appear better, than at the end of my exposition on 
 the books which contain it. The reader will, I 
 hope, recollect, that in the sermons just now men- 
 tioned, I have endeavoured to demonstrate the truth 
 
 of that history ; and every year convinces me more 
 and more, of the unanswerable force of the evidence 
 there displayed. It is with great pleasure that I 
 refle(;f on the divine blessing, which hath seemed to 
 j attend those discourses; and it is a great encou- 
 ragement to me to hope, that what I am now to 
 offer may be a means of establishing some of my 
 readers in that regard to the sacred oracles, which 
 will be their best preservative against the errors 
 and the vices of that licentious age in which Pro- 
 vidence hath east our lot ; whereby our fidelity and 
 our zeal are brought to a trial, which few ages but 
 those of martyrdom could have allbrded. 
 
 It will be my business, — First, to state the nature 
 of inspiration in general, and of that kind of it 
 which, as [ apprehend, wc are to ascribe to the 
 New Testament : — I shall then prove, that it was 
 undoubtedly written by such inspiration: — And 
 after this, I shall briefly hint at the influence, which 
 this important truth ought always to have upon our 
 temper and conduct ; by enforcing which, I appre- 
 liciul I shall take the best method to promote a 
 growing persuasion of the truth I am labouring to 
 establish. 
 
 I will only premise, that I do not intend this, as 
 a full discussion of the subject; but only, as such 
 a compendious view of the chief proofs, as may 
 suit the place in which it stands ; and as itiay, from 
 the easiest and plainest principles, give rational 
 satisfaction to the minds of common Christiana; 
 
I oaf) 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 mIio have not leisure, nor perhaps nhility, to enter 
 into all the niceties of theological and scholastical 
 controversy. 
 
 I. I shall state the nature of inspiration, and of 
 that kind of it, which we are to ascribe to the New 
 Testament. 
 
 In this I shall he more jiarticnlar, as I apprehend, 
 the want of a siillieient arcuraey here has occasion- 
 ed some confusion in the reasoning of several 
 worthy persons, who have treated this important 
 subject more largely than I must here allow myself 
 to do. 1 shall not, however, criticise on their ac- 
 count of the matter, but plainly lay down what 
 seems to me intelligible, right, and safe. 
 
 By inspiration in general, I would be understood 
 to mean, " Any supernatural inlluence of (Jod upon 
 the mind of a rational creature, where it is formed 
 to any degree of intellectual improvement, beyond 
 what it would, at that time, and in those circum- 
 stances, have attained in a natural way, that is, by 
 the usual exercise of its faculties, unassisted by 
 any special divine interposition." Thus, if a man 
 were instantaneously enal)led to speak a language 
 which he had never learned, liow possible soever it 
 might have been for him to have obtained an equal 
 readiness in it by degrees, I believe few would 
 scruple to say, that lie owed his ae(iuaintance witli 
 it to a divine inspiration. Or if he gave a true and 
 exact account of what was doing at a distance, and 
 published a particular relation of what he neither 
 saw nor heard, as some of the prophets did ; all the 
 world would own, if the affair were too complex, and 
 the account too circumstantial, to be the result of a 
 lucky guess, that he must be insjjircd with the 
 knowledge of it ; though another account equally 
 exact, given by a person on the spot, would be 
 ascribed to no inspiration at all. 
 
 But of this supernatural influence on the minds 
 of men, forming them to such extraordinary intel- 
 lectual improvements and abilities, there are various 
 sorts and degrees, which it will ])e of importance 
 for us accurately to distinguish from each other. 
 
 If a person be discoursing either in word or writ- 
 ing, and God do miraculously watch over his mind, 
 and, however secretly, direct it in such a manner, as 
 to keep him more secure from error in what he 
 speaks or writes, than he could have been merely 
 by the natural exercise of his faculties, I should 
 say he was inspired ; even though there should be 
 no extraordinary marks of high genius in the work ; 
 or even though another person, with a stronger 
 memory, or relating a fact more immediately after 
 it happened, might naturally have recounted it with 
 equal exactness. Yet still, if there was in this case 
 any thing miraculous, we must, on the principles 
 above, allow an inspiration ; and I would call this, 
 to distinguish it from other and higher degrees, an 
 inspiration of superintendency. 
 
 If this influence should act in such a degree, as 
 absolutely to exclude all mixture of error in a de- 
 claration of doctrines or facts so superintended, we 
 might then call it a plenary superintending inspi- 
 ration ; or, as I would choose for popular use to 
 express myself in this discourse, a full inspiration. 
 
 Now it will from hence follow, and I desire that 
 it may be seriously attended to, that a book, the 
 contents of which are entirely true, may be said to 
 be written by a full inspiration, even though it con- 
 tain many things which the author might have 
 known and recorded merely by the use of his na- 
 tural faculties, if there be others which he did not 
 so well know, or could not without miraculous 
 assistance have so exactly recollected ; or if, on the 
 whole, a freedom from all error would not, in fact, 
 have been found, unless God had thus superintend- 
 ed or watched over his mind and pen. And in re- 
 gard to such a production, it would be altogether 
 impertinent and insignificant to inquire, how far 
 did natural memory or natural reason operate, and 
 in what particular facts or doctrines did super- 
 natural agency prevail. It is enough, if I know, 
 that what the author says or writes is true, though 
 I know not particularly how he came by this or 
 tliat truth : for my obligation tc receive it arises 
 fron.i its being known truth, and not merely from its 
 being made known this or that way. And should 
 God miraculously assure me that any particular writ- 
 ing contained nothing but the truth ; and should he 
 at the same time tell me, it had been drawn up 
 w ithout any miraculous assistance at all, though I 
 could not then call it inspired, I should be as much 
 obliged to receive and submit to it on its being thus 
 attested by God, as if every single word had been 
 immediately dictated by him. 
 
 It will further follow from what is said above, 
 that a book may be written by such full inspiration 
 as I have described, though, the author being left 
 to the choice of his own words, phrases, and man- 
 ner,* there may be some imperfection in the style 
 and method, provided the whole contents of it are 
 true ; if the subject be so impoi tant, as to make it 
 consistent with the divine wisdom miraculously to 
 interpose, to preserve an entire credibility as to the 
 exact truth of facts recorded, and doctrines delivered 
 as divine. If, indeed, God were represented as 
 declaring such a book to be intended by him as an 
 exact standard for logic, oratory, or poetry, every 
 apparent defect in either would be an internal ob- 
 jection against it. But if it be represented only as 
 intended to teach us truth, in order to its having a 
 proper influence on our temper and actions, such 
 defects would no more warrant or excuse our re- 
 jecting its authority, than the vi ant of a ready utter- 
 
 ♦ It is very evident, Hint llie learned Maimonidcs llion;;lit tliis to l)e 
 tlie rase with regard to the prdpliets ; tlioiigli I tliink it least nf 3II to 
 be apiireheiided in such oiacles. Sec Maiiiion. Mar, Ncv. lib. ii, 
 cap. 2». 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. II. 
 
 1097 
 
 ance or a musical voice would excuse our disregard 
 to a person, who should bring: us competent evi- 
 dence of his being a messenger from God to us. 
 
 I have been more particular in stating this kind 
 of inspiration, because it is that which I shall en- 
 deavour to assert to the sacred books of the New 
 Testament, and this, without any exception or limi- 
 tation, as they came out of the hands of the apostles ; 
 though I allow it is possible they may, in this or 
 that particular copy, and in some minuter instances 
 which now perhaps affect all our remaining copies, 
 have suffered something by the injuries of time, or 
 the negligence of transcribers, as well as printers : 
 which, that they have in some particulars suffered, 
 is as notorious a fact, as that there is a written or a 
 printed copy of tbem in the world ; yet is at the 
 same time a fact, which no man of common sense 
 or honesty can seriously urge against their au- 
 thority. 
 
 Though it be the main point in my view, to prove 
 that the New Testament is written under that kind 
 of inspiration which I have been explaining, I 
 must nevertheless beg leave to mention two other 
 kinds, of which divines often speak, and which do 
 also, in a considerable degree, belong to many 
 parts of Scripture, though I think it neither expe- 
 dient, material, nor safe, to assert that they run 
 tlirough the whole of it : I mean, an inspiration of 
 elevation and of suggestion. 
 
 The former, as its name plainly intimates, pre- 
 vails where the faculties, though they act in a 
 regular, and, as it seems, a common, manner, are 
 nevertheless elevated, or raised to some extraordi- 
 nary degree, so that the performance is more truly 
 sublime, noble, and pathetic, than what would have 
 been produced merely by the force of a man's 
 natural genius. As for the particular degree of the 
 divine agency, where there is indeed something of 
 this inspiration, perhaps neither the person that is 
 under it, nor any other creature, may be able confi- 
 dently fo pronounce concerning it. Perhaps nothing 
 less penetrating than the eye of God himself may 
 be able universally to distinguish that narrow line, 
 which divides what is natural from what is super- 
 natural, in all the productions and powers of ima- 
 gination, reasoning, and language, or in the eflects 
 and powers of memory under the former head. It 
 is a curiosity, in the minute particulars of which 
 we are not at all concerned ; as it is the same God 
 which, whether naturally or miraculously, worketli 
 all and in all, iCor. xii.9. But if any excellency in 
 the performance itself can speak it to be more than 
 human, productions of this sort are to be found in 
 Scripture ; and the rank and education of some of 
 the sacred penmen, render the hand of God pecu- 
 liarly conspicuous in the sublimity and lustre of 
 their writings. What the gifts of the Spirit may 
 in every age of the church have done, by opera- 
 
 tions 01 this kind, we know not. And I think 
 it would be presumptuous absolutely to deny, that 
 God might act in some extraordinary degree on 
 some of the heathen writers, to produce those glo- 
 rious works of antiquity, which have been, under 
 the direction of his providence, so etficaeious, on 
 the one hand, to transmit the evidences of divine 
 revelation, and, on the other, to illustrate the ne- 
 cessity of it: in consequence of which, I cannot 
 forbear saying, by the way, that I think they w ho 
 are intimately acquainted with them are, of all men 
 upon earth, the most inexcusable in rejecting 
 Christianity. But our inability to mark out the 
 exact boundaries between nature and an extraor- 
 dinary divine agency, is not much to be regretted ; 
 since it does not appear to be the design of Provi- 
 dence, by such elevations of sentiment, style, and 
 manner, by any means to bear testimony to the 
 person adorned w ith them, as a messenger sent fo 
 speak in his name ; which may as eflectually be 
 done in the plainfcst and simplest forms of expres- 
 sion, without any thing which looks like the 
 heightenings of art, or the sparklings of an extra- 
 ordinary genius. 
 
 The other, which divines have called immediate 
 suggestion, is the highest and most extraordinary 
 kind of inspiration ; and takes place, w hen the use 
 of our faculties is superseded, and God does, as it 
 were, speak directly to the mind ; making such dis- 
 coveries to it as it could not otherwise have obtain- 
 ed, and dictating the very words in which these 
 discoveries are to be communicated to others : so 
 that a person, in what he writes from hence, is no 
 other than first the auditor, and then, if I may be 
 allowed the expression, the secretary, of (Jod ; as 
 .John was of our Lord Jesus Christ, when he wrote 
 from his sacred lips the seven epistles to the Asiatic 
 churches. And it is, no doubt, to an inspiration of 
 this kind, lhat the book of the Revelation owes its 
 original. 
 
 It is evident from the definitions above, that there 
 may be a full siiperintendcncy, where neither of the 
 latter kinds of inspiration, of elevation or sugges- 
 tion, take place : but I think we must necessarily 
 allow, that an inspiration of suggestion, so far as it 
 goes, must also imply a full superintendency in re- 
 cording the history of what has been seen or heard, 
 in any prophetic vision, when it is necessary to 
 make a report of it. For as it would, on the one 
 hand, be impious to imagine that the blessed God 
 would dictate a falsehood to any of his creatures; 
 so neither can we suppose it consistent with the di- 
 vine wisdom, to suffer the prophet, through infir- 
 mity, to err in delivering a message, with which he 
 had expressly charged him ; and which would be 
 given in vain, so far as there was a failure in the 
 exact delivery of it. 
 
 Besides the last book of the New Te.staracnl, I 
 
1098 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 nicnn, the Revelation, wliicli I have already men- 
 tioned in this view, it seems evident to me, tliat 
 some other parts of it were given by siieh a sug- 
 gestion ; seeing tliere are so many predictions inter- 
 spersed, and so many mysteries revealed, whieh lay 
 entirely beyond the ken of any human, or perhaps 
 angelie. mind. lJut that tins is applicable to all the 
 history of it, or to all things contained in its episto- 
 lary parts, I choose not to assert. For as it cannot 
 be necessary to its entire credibility, which nothing 
 can more cH'ectually secure than a full snperinten- 
 dency,it would subject us to many dilliculfies, whieh 
 have been so forcibly urged by others, that it is not 
 necessary for me here to repeat them. But I am 
 well assured, that the apparent insuthciency of the 
 answers, which have been returned to these ob- 
 jections by some very sincere, but I think in this 
 instance less judicious, defenders of Scripture, has 
 led some people to conclude, that the Scripture was 
 not inspired at all ; as if it had been on both sides 
 agreed, that a universal suggestion was the only 
 kind of inspiration worth contending about. The 
 consequence of this hath been, that such as are dis- 
 satisfied with the arguments, which these defenders 
 of the divine authority of the Scripture insist upon, 
 read the Scriptures, if they read them at all, not to 
 learn their authentic dictates, but to try the senti- 
 ments contained in them by the touch-stone of their 
 own reason, and to separate what that shall allow to 
 be right, from what it presumptuously concludes to 
 be wrong. And this boasted standard has been so 
 very defective, that on this mistaken notion they 
 have not only rejected many of the most vital truths 
 of Christianity, but even some essential principles 
 of natural religion. And thus they have in effect 
 annihilated the Christian revelation, at the very 
 same time that they have acknowledged the histori- 
 cal truth of the facts on which it is built. This is 
 the body of men that have affected to call themselves 
 cautious believers : but their character is so admir- 
 ably well described under that of Agrippa, by my 
 honoured friend Dr. Watts, in his little treatise 
 called the Redeemer and Sanctilier. that it may be 
 sufficient here to have hinted it thus briefly, as the 
 reason why, out of regard to them as well as others, 
 I have resumed the subject of inspiration, and en- 
 deavoured to place it in, what I do in my con- 
 science apprehend to be, both a safe and rational 
 light. 
 
 That I may remedy, so far as God shall enable 
 me to do it, the great and destructive evil I have 
 just been mentioning, and may establish in the 
 minds of Christians a due regard to the sacred 
 oracles of eternal truth, I shall now proceed to the 
 second part of this discourse : in which, 
 
 II. I am to show, how evidently the full inspira- 
 tion of the New Testament, in the sense stated 
 above, follows from the acknowledged truth of the 
 
 history which it contains, in all its leading and 
 most important facts. 
 
 But before I proceed to the discussion of the 
 matter, I must beg leave to observe, that, though 
 this is what I apprehend to be the grand argument, 
 and that which may most properly be connected 
 with an exposition of the historical books, I am 
 very far from slighting those other arguments which 
 fall not so directly in my way here. 
 
 I greatly revere the testimony of the primitive 
 Christian writers, not only to the real existence of 
 the sacred books in those early ages, but also to 
 their divine original : their persuasion of which 
 most evidently appears from the veneration with 
 which they speak of them, even while miraculous 
 gifts remained in the church; and conse(|uently, 
 an exact attendance to a written rule might seem 
 less absolutely necessary, and the authority of ia- 
 ferior teachers might approach nearer to that of the 
 apostles. I believe every candid reader will ac- 
 knowledge, that nothing can be objected to many 
 strong passages in Clemens Romanus, Polycarp, 
 Justin Martyr, Irenaius, Tlieophilus AntiochenuSj 
 Clemens Alexandrinus, Tertullian, Origen, Euse- 
 bius, and some other ancient writers he has men- 
 tioned, that are now lost. It is needless to produce 
 them here, after those valuable specimens of them, 
 which Dr. Whitby and Mons. Du Pin have given ; 
 and especially, considering what my learned friend 
 Dr. Lardner has with so much industry and accu- 
 racy of judgment collected on this head, in the 
 second part of his Credibility of the Gospel History. 
 I shall therefore content myself with observing here, 
 that several of the most learned and considerable 
 of these ancients speak of this veneration for the 
 sacred writings of the New Testament, not as the 
 result of their own private judgment, but as that in 
 which all the churches were unanimously agreed.* 
 
 The internal characters of divine inspiration, with 
 whicii every page of the New Testament abounds, 
 do also deserve our attentive notice; and render 
 the book itself, if considered as detached from all 
 external evidence whatsoever, a compendious de- 
 monstration of its own sacred original, and conse- 
 quently of the certainty of that religion which it 
 teaches. The excellency of its doctrines, the spi- 
 rituality and elevation of its design, the majesty 
 
 * Thus Origen says, (Pliiloc.il. cap. xii. 41 ) At< <rc, i!ir 
 
 TTiiTTOt Trapurttf.ttryai, (in OtaTTiivaToi eiaiv. " 'f'llat if a mail would 
 
 not confess liiniself to be an intidrl, lie must admit the inspiration of 
 tlie Scripturrs." And he elsewiicre places the gospels in the number 
 of writin;:s, " which were received as divine t>y all the churches of 
 GotI, and were the elements, or first principles, (jf the duirch's faith:" 
 
 i'.i 7rnT<in cici:\rjtTi(iiz tieuv ircTrnrTt t'/icvuiiJ eii'iii Oeoijv, Situxeto 
 
 Tjit ntaTcoir T»(? cKKAnfffnc, Tcrtnlliaii also lays it down a9 4 
 
 fiiiidainriital principle in dispntinj,' with heretics, " 'I'llat the Irntli of 
 doctrines is to he detenniiied hy Scripture:" for the quesiion ha* 
 evidently the force of a strong' iiei:ation. Alitiiide scilicet loqni po«-. 
 sunt de Helms Fidei, nisi ex Littcris Fidei ? (Dc Privscript. Heret. 
 
 cap XV.} And ICnsehius (piotes a much more ancient wriier than 
 
 hiin-elf, (Eiisel). Kccles. Hist. Iih. V. cap. 2M ) who calls the Striptiire, 
 7rfffTet»n apx litiv K.tvuvti, '* the rule of ancient faith ;" and who after, 
 wards speaking; of liereties, declares, " that if they denied the Scrip- 
 tures to he divinely inspired, they were infidels.'* 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. II. 
 
 1099 
 
 and simplicity of its style, the agreement of its 
 parts in the most unsuspicious manner, with its 
 more than human efficacy on the hearts and con- 
 sciences of men, do all concur to give us a very 
 high idea of the New Testament: and I am per- 
 suaded, tiiat the wiser and better any man is, and 
 the more familiarly he converses with these un- 
 equalled books, the more will he be struck with this 
 evidence. But these things, in the general, are 
 better felt than expressed ; and several of the argu- 
 ments arise, not from particular passages, but from 
 the general tenor of the books : and consequently, 
 they cannot be judged of, but by a serious and 
 attentive perusal. 
 
 Dismissing, therefore, these topics, not with neg- 
 lect, but with the sincerest expressions of just and 
 high veneration, I now proceed to that grand proof 
 of the inspiration of the New Testament, which is 
 derived from the credibility of its leading facts; 
 which having so fully illustrated in the sermons 
 referred to above, I think I have a just title to 
 assume as the foundation of what further reasonings 
 may occur. 
 
 Admitting this great principle, it is undeniably 
 certain,— That Jesus of Nazareth was a most extra- 
 ordinary person:— That after having been foretold 
 by many prophets, in distant periods of time, he 
 was at length, agreeably to the repeated declaration 
 of an angel, first to a priest ministering at the 
 golden altar in the temple, and then to his mother, 
 conceived by a virgin of David's family : — That 
 his birth was proclaimed by a choir of angels, who 
 celebrated it in celestial anthems, as the foundation 
 of peace on earth, and the most glorious display 
 of divine benevolence to men : — That before his 
 public appearance, a person greater than any of 
 the prophets, and whose birth had also been fore- 
 told by an angel, was sent to prepare his way: — 
 . That on his being baptized, he was anointed with a 
 wonderful elfusion of the Spirit, poured down upon 
 him by a visible symbol: and that the edicacy of 
 this sacred agent, continually residing in him, was 
 apparent throughout the whole course of his minis- 
 try ; not only in the unspotted sanctity of his life, 
 amidst a thousand most violent temptations, and in 
 the bright assemblage of virtues and graces, which 
 shotic in it with a lustre before unknown, and since 
 absolutely unparalleled; but also in a multitude of 
 various works of wonder and mercy, which he 
 miraculously wrought on tho.^e, who.se diseases 
 were of the most desperate and incurable nature, 
 and even on the dead, whom that almighty voice of 
 his, which had driven out the fiercest infernal 
 spirits, and calmed the rage of tempests, did, with 
 serene majesty, awaken into life, as from a slumber. 
 It is also on the same foundation certain. That this 
 illustrious person having, by the malice of his ene- 
 mies, been most unjustly and cruelly put to death, 
 
 did, on the third day, arise from the dead : — And 
 that, after having given to his disciples the most 
 abundant proofs of that important fact, he at length 
 ascended to heaven gradually in their sight ; angels 
 appearing, to assure them he should as visibly 
 descend from thence to the universal judgment, the 
 administration of which he had declared to be com- 
 mitted to him. 
 
 I must freely declare, that had I been an entire 
 stranger to the sacred story, and proceeded no 
 further in it than this, supposing me lirmly to have 
 believed all these wonderful things, though deli- 
 vered in the shortest abstract that could have been 
 made of them, I should readily have concluded, 
 that this extraordinary person, being sent, as it 
 plainly appears from the history that he was, with 
 a divine revelation for the benefit of all nations and 
 of all ages, had taken care to leave some authentic 
 records of the doctrine which he taught. And if I 
 had further found, that he had left no such records 
 written by himself, I should naturally have con- 
 cluded, that he took effectual care that some of his 
 followers should be enabled to deliver down to 
 posterity the system of religion which he taught, in 
 the most accurate manner ; with all such extraor- 
 dinary assistance from God as the nature of the 
 subject required, in ordet to rendering their ac- 
 counts exact. And I believe every reasonable man 
 would draw this inference ; because it is very ap- 
 parent, that the great end of this vast and astonish- 
 ing apparatus (for vast and astonishing it would 
 appear, if what relates to Jesus alone were taken 
 into the survey) must, in the nature of things, be 
 fi ustratcd, if no such records were provided ; it 
 being morally impossible that unwritten tradition 
 should convey a system of religion pure and uncor- 
 rupted, even to the next generation ; and much 
 more, that it should so convey it to the end of 
 time. And it would seem, so far as we can judge, 
 by no means worthy the divine wisdom, to suffer 
 the good effects of such a great and noble plati to 
 be lost, for want of so easy an expedient ; espe- 
 cially, since men of the age and country in which 
 these things happened, were not only blessed with 
 the use of letters, but were remarkable for their 
 application to them, and for great proficiency in 
 various branches of learning. And if I should not 
 only have an abstract of this history of Jesus which 
 I judged credible, but should also be so happy as 
 to have the fo\ir gospels in my hand, with con- 
 vincing evidences of their being genuine, which we 
 here suppose ; I should, on these prini'iples, assur- 
 edly argue, that not only the leading facts, but 
 likewise the system of doctrines and discourses 
 delivered in them, might entirely be depended upon : 
 nor could I conceive the truth of such doctrines 
 and discourses to be separable from the general 
 truth of the leading facts referred to above ; having. 
 
 li 
 
1100 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 :ts 1 licie suppose, proper evidences to convince 
 nie, tliat the penmen of these books were tlic per- 
 sons by whom the memory of these events was to 
 be delivered down to'posterity : which is a further 
 principle, that none of common sense and modesty 
 can pretend to contest ; none appearing as their com- 
 j>etitors, wliose pretensions are wortliy to be named. 
 
 Hut my appreliension of tlie full aiitlienticness 
 and credibility of these writers would, on the suji- 
 ])osition I am here makinji, p;reatly increase, as I 
 proceeded to that excellent and useful book, which 
 the {jood providence of God has now given me an 
 opportunity of illustrating; the Acts of the holy 
 Apostles: since I learn from thence, that in a very 
 few days after the ascension of Jesus into heaven, 
 the Spirit of God was, according to his promise, 
 poured out upon his apostles in an abundant manner, 
 attended with the visible appearance of a lambent 
 celestial llame ; and that, in consequence of this 
 amazing unction, the poor fishermen of Galilee, and 
 their companions, were in a moment enabled to 
 speak, with the greatest readiness and propriety, 
 Latin, Greek, Arabic, Coptic, Persic, and a variety 
 of other languages, the first rudiments of which 
 they had never learnt; and also to perform all kinds 
 of miracles, eqnnl to those of their Master, and in 
 some cir<"umstances, superior to them. My vene- 
 ration for the writings of these men, and I here 
 suppose, I know those of tlie New Testament to be 
 so, must be unparalleled, when I think who and 
 what they were : and I am so struck with this plain, 
 but divinely powerful, argument, that I must entreat 
 my reader to review with me, a little more particu- 
 larly, some of the actions and circumstances of these 
 holy men, to whose writings I am labouring to 
 conciliate his unreserved regard. 
 
 Let them all be considered, as preaching the 
 gospel in that extraordinary manner, on the day of 
 Pentecost ; and a few days after, vyhen some of their 
 companions had been seized and threatened by the 
 Sanhedrim, as anointed again with such an efl'usion 
 of the Spirit, as shook the very house in which they 
 were, and inspired them all at once with the same 
 sublime hymn of i)raise. Let them be considered, 
 as afterwards led out of prison by an angel, and 
 commanded by him to go and preach the gospel in 
 the temj)le, under the remarkable phraseology of 
 " the words of this life ;" as if the whole life and 
 happiness of the human race depended on their 
 knowing and receiving it. Nor let us here forget 
 that extraordinary power, common to all the apostles, 
 of communicating the miraculous gifts of the Spirit 
 by the imposition of their hands. Had we nothing 
 particularly to say of any one, more than these grand 
 things which we hear of them all, it must surely 
 (•ommand our reverence to their writings, and set 
 them at a vast distance from any of merely human 
 original. 
 
 But through the singular providence of God if 
 hath so happened, that we have the most particular 
 history of the lives of those apostles, to whose writ- 
 ings we are generally most indebted ; 1 mean, .John, 
 Peter, and Paul. 
 
 With respect to .John we know, that besides the 
 concern he had in the cure of the lame man, he was 
 favoured with the visions of God in the Isle of 
 Patmos; where our Lord, after an abode of more 
 than half a century on the throne of his glory at his 
 Father's right hand, did him the unequalled honour 
 to use him as his amanuensis, or secretary ; expressly 
 dictating to him the letters he was pleased to send 
 to the seven churches in Asia. How easily then 
 may we suppose him so to have presided over 
 his other writings, as to have secured him from 
 mistakes in them ! 
 
 Consider Peter, as striking Ananias and Sap- 
 phira dead with a word ; as curing, by the like 
 powerful word, one cripple at Jerusalem, and an- 
 other at Lydda; and calling back Dorcas, evett 
 from the dead. Let us view bim in that grand 
 circumstance, of being marked out so particularly 
 by an angel to Cornelius, and sent to Jiim as the 
 oracle of God himself, from whom that worthy and 
 honourable person was to hear words, by which he 
 and all his house should be saved : and pfter this, 
 let ns view him, as once more delivered out of the 
 hand of Herod, and from all the expectation of the 
 people of the Jews, by an angel, who struck ofl' his 
 chains, and opened the doors of his prison, the very 
 night before he was to have been executed. And 
 let any one, with these particulars in his eye, added 
 to the foregoing, in which he shared with all his 
 brethren, say, what more could be necessary, to 
 prove the divine inspiration of what he taught; so 
 far as inspiration was requisite, to render it entirely 
 authentic: or let anyone further say, upon what 
 imaginable pretence the authority of his writings 
 can be denied, if that of his preaching be granted. 
 
 And to mention no more, let Paul, that great 
 scribe, instructed in the kingdom of heaven, to 
 whose pen we owe so many invaluable epistles, be 
 consid-ered in the same view: and let us endeavour 
 to impressour minds with the various scenes through 
 which we know he passed, and the distinguished 
 favours, with which his Master honoured him, that 
 we may judge, how we are to receive the instruction 
 of his pen. Let us therefore think of him, as so 
 miraculously called by the voice of Christ to the 
 profession of his gospel, when he was persecuting 
 it even to the death ; as receiving a full and dis- 
 fitiet revelation of that glorious, but to him quite 
 unknown, gospel, by the immediate inspiration of 
 its divine Author ; which is a fact he expressly 
 witnesses, and in which he could not possibly be 
 mistaken. Think of the lustre of those astonishing 
 works, which shone round him wherever he went, 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. II. 
 
 1 101 
 
 and of those wrought in his favour, which showed 
 him so eminently the care of heaven : Da'mons 
 ejected ; distempers cured, sometimes with a toucli, 
 and sometimes without it, by a garment sent from 
 him to the patient ; his motions guided from place 
 to place by a divine oracle ; Elymas struck blind 
 for opposing him ; his bands loosed by an earth- 
 quake ; his strength and vigour instantaneously 
 restored, when the rage of the mutable and bar- 
 barous populace at Lystra had stoned him and left 
 him for dead ; and to add no more, his safety in a 
 shipwreck, with that of near three hundred more in 
 the same vessel for his sake, promised by an angel, 
 and accomplished without the loss of a single per- 
 son, when they had expected nothing but a uni- 
 versal ruin. Let us, I saj', think of Paul in these 
 circumstances ; and with these facts full in our 
 view, let us judge, whether it is at all probable, 
 yea, whether it be morally possible, that a man, 
 sent out and attended with such credentials as 
 these, should be so left of God, amidst all these 
 tokens of his constant care, as to mingle error with 
 sound doctrine, and his own fancies with the divine 
 revelations, which we are sure he received : or 
 whether, if he were not left to such elfects of human 
 frailty in his preaching, but might have been re- 
 garded by his hearers with entire credit, he would 
 be left to them in those writings, by which he was, 
 as it were, to preach to all future generations of 
 men, from one end of the world to the other; and by 
 which, being dead, he yet speaketh, in all lan- 
 guages, and to all Christian assemblies. 
 
 I cannot forbear thinking this plain argument, so 
 well adapted to popular use, abundantly sufficient 
 to carry conviction to every candid mind, in pro- 
 portion to the degree of its attention and penetra- 
 tion. And I am almost afraid, that some should 
 think I have bestowed an unnecessary labour, thus 
 particularly to state a matter, which hath such a 
 Hood of light poured in -upon it from almost every 
 page of the sacred story. But I have been obliged, 
 in the course of this exposition, to meditate much on 
 1 these facts ; and under the deep impression I could 
 not but speak as out of the fulness of my heart. 
 
 Yet after all I have already said, I should be very 
 unjust to this argument, if f did not endeavour to 
 represent to my reader, how much it is strengthened, 
 on the one hand, by the express and comprehensive 
 promises which our Redeemer made to his apostles ; 
 and on the other, by the peculiar language in which 
 the apostles themselves speak of th^ir preach- 
 ] ing and writings, and the high regard they challenge 
 ' to each ; a regard, which nothing could justify them 
 j in demanding, but a consciousness that they were 
 indeed under a full inspiration. 
 
 The promises of our Lord Jesus Christ must un- 
 doubtedly have a very great weight with all, that 
 have reflected on that indisputable testimony, which 
 
 God himself bore to him in numberless instances. 
 And therefore, though they are so very well known, 
 I must beg leave, not only to refer to them, but to 
 recite the chief of them at large : and I entreat the 
 reader to consider, how he can reconcile them with 
 an apprehension, that our Lord .Jesus Christ did at 
 the same time intend to leave the persons to whom 
 he made such promises, liable to mistake both in 
 facts and doctrines ; and being deceived themselves, 
 to mislead such as should depend upon their 
 testimony, where they professed themselves to be 
 thoroughly informed. 
 
 In that copious and excellent discourse, which 
 our Lord addressed to the apostles, just before he 
 quitted the guest-chamber to go to the garden of 
 Gethseraane, that is, but a few hours before his 
 death, the grand consolation he urges to his sor- 
 rowful disciples, is this ; that he would send his 
 Spirit upon them. The donation of which Spirit is 
 represented as the first-fruits of Christ's inter- 
 cession ; when after so long an absence, and such 
 terrible sufferings, he should be restored to his 
 Father's embraces. This is spoken of as the first 
 petition preferred by him, and the first favour 
 granted to his church for his sake : John xiv. 16. 
 I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another 
 Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever. 
 Yea, Christ declares, and he could not be mistaken 
 in it, that the agency of this Spirit should so abun- 
 dantly counterbalance all the advantages they 
 received from his bodily presence, that strong as 
 their aflection to him was, they would in that view 
 have reason to rejoice in his leaving them : (John 
 xvi. 7.) I tell you the truth, that is, I say what 
 may be depended upon as a most important cer- 
 tainty, and very important indeed such a represent- 
 ation was ; it is expedient for you that I go away ; 
 for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come 
 unto you ; but if I depart, I will send him unto 
 you. Now from these expressions, were they alone, 
 I think we might probably infer, that the apostles, 
 after having received the Spirit, would be in no 
 more danger of erring in their writings, than they 
 would have been, if Jesus himself had been always 
 near them, to inform them concerning any fact or 
 doctrine, of which they might have occasion to 
 speak. 
 
 This is further confirmed by the title which is 
 given him no less than thrice in this discourse, the 
 Spirit of truth ; almost in a breath with these great 
 and weighty circumstances, that he should abide 
 with them for ever; John xiv. 10, 17. that he should 
 guide them into all truth ; that he should teach 
 them all things, yea, and show them things to come ; 
 John xvi. 13. which must surely secure them from 
 any danger of erring in relating things that were 
 past. But lest any should be perverse enough to 
 dispute the consequence, our Lord particularly 
 
1109 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 jiu'iilions this efTcct of the Spirit's operation, lliat 
 tlicy shotikl tlicrt'hv l>e fitted to hear a testimony to 
 liini, as those w ho had lonft been eonversant with 
 Lini, and w hose memories w ere miraculously assist- 
 ed in recollecting those discourses which they had 
 heard from him : John xv. 2(5, '27. " When the 
 Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from 
 the Father, even tlie Spirit of truth, which proceed- 
 clh from the Father, he shall testify of me ; and ye 
 also, heingr so assisted, sliall bear witness, because 
 ye have been with me from tlie l)e<iinnin<^." And 
 afjain, John xiv. 26. " Tlie Holy Ghost shall teach 
 you all things, and bring all things to your remem- 
 brance, whatsoever I have said unto you." 
 
 Soon after this, our Lord, on the very day in 
 which he rose from the dead, in a dependence on 
 the aids of this promised Spirit, gives them a com- 
 mission, which notliing but its plenary inspiration 
 could have answered, or have qualified them to 
 fulfil: for coming to them, he declares, John xx. 
 21. " An my Father hath sent me, even so send I 
 you : and upon this he breathed upon them, and 
 said. Receive ye the Holy Ghost: whose soever sins 
 ye remit, they are remitted ; and whose soever ye 
 retain, they are retained." Which, whether it sig- 
 nifies a power of inflicting and removing miracu- 
 lous punisliments, or of authoritatively declaring 
 that sins were in particular instances forgiven or 
 retained, must, either way, suppose such a con- 
 stant presence of Christ with them, as it is hard, or 
 rather impossible, to reconcile with supposing them 
 to err in what they wrote for the instruction of the 
 church in succeeding ages. 
 
 These are the grand passages, on wliieh I rest 
 this part of the argument : yet I tliink, I ought not 
 to omit those, in which Christ promises them such 
 extraordinary assistance of the Spirit, while de- 
 fending his cause in the presence of magistrates ; 
 and it is the more proper to mention them, as the 
 language in which they are made is so remarka le. 
 On this occasion then he tells tiiem. Matt. x. 19,20. 
 " When they deliver you up, take no thought how 
 or what ye shall speak, for it shall be given you in 
 that same hour what ye shall speak, for it is not 
 you that speak, but the Spirit of your Father that 
 spcaketh in you." May we not therefore on the 
 same principles conclude, that when they were to 
 write for the use of all future generations of Chris- 
 tians, it was not so much they who wrote, as the 
 Spirit of the Father, who in effect wrote by them, 
 and, as it were, dictated to them ? For the occa- 
 sion will surely appear as important, in one in- 
 stance, as in the other ; or rather much more im- 
 portant in the latter, than in the former ; as an 
 error in their writings would have a much more 
 extensive and lasting influence, than a slip of their 
 tongues in a transient pleading before a magistrate. 
 Nay, to give this argument the greatest possible 
 
 weight, we find that the same promise was made, 
 almost in the very same words, Luke xii. 11, 12. to 
 persons in the dignity of their office inferior to the 
 apostles ; I mean, to the seventy ; which might 
 have entitled their writings to such a regard, as I 
 am now labouring to engage to those of their su- 
 periors. 
 
 I shall only further remind the reader, that our 
 Lord, when just ascending to heaven, refers to 
 that effusion of the Spirit, which was (juickly after 
 to happen, even before they departed from Jerusa- 
 lem, as the era from whence the grand accoin.> 
 plishment of the promises relating to the aids of 
 the Spirit was to be dated. See Luke xxiv. 49. 
 Acts i. 4, 5. And as all the apostolical writings 
 which now remain, were written several years after 
 that event, it plainly proves, they lie within the 
 period in which tliey were to expect all tlie assist- 
 ance which these promises import. 
 
 The most plausible objection which can be urged 
 against the application of these promises to tho 
 matter now before us, is this : " That these pro- 
 mises only refer to the supernatural assistance, 
 granted to the apostles on great and pressing occa- 
 sions ; but that they might easily, without such 
 assistance, have written a true account of the life 
 and preaching of Christ, and of such other facts as 
 they record; and consequently, that their historical 
 writings at least, how credible soever we suppose 
 them, might be drawn up without any inspiration 
 at all." 
 
 To this I might reply. That if it be allowed, that 
 the apostles, in the books which we have been en- 
 deavouring to explain, wrote the exact truth, and 
 that in their epistles they have made a right and 
 unerring representation of the revelation with which 
 they were charged, so that we may safely make their 
 writings a rule both of faith and practice, the re- 
 maining question would only be about the pro- 
 priety of using the word inspiration, when speaking 
 of them ; and therefore would, on the principles I 
 have laid down above, be comparatively of small 
 importance. Yet I think it easy, in that view of 
 the question, to prove that these writings could not 
 have been thus entirely credible, if they had not 
 been written under such a full inspiration of super- 
 intcndency, as is stated in the first part of this dis- 
 course. 
 
 I do indeed allow, and no candid man can dis- 
 pute it, that the penmen of the New Testament, 
 supposing them able to write at all, might merely 
 by the natural exercise of their memory, under the 
 direction of the common sense and reason of men, 
 have given us a plain, faithful, and very useful ac- 
 count of many extraonlinary scenes, to which they 
 had been witnesses during the time they conversed 
 with Jesus on earth, and in which they were active 
 after his ascension. And I cannot forbear saying. 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. 11. 
 
 tliat supposing the truth of the grand leading facts, 
 as, that Jesus of Nazareth taught a doctrine con- 
 firmed by miracles, and was himself raised from 
 the dead, I should have esteemed such writings, 
 supposing them merely an honest account of what 
 such men nmst have known, to be beyond ail com- 
 parison the most valuable records of antiquity. 
 But when these writings came to be perused, it is 
 evident to me, from the particular contents of them, 
 that honest and worthy men would never have pre- 
 tended to have written in such a manner, if they 
 had not been conscious of superior direction, and 
 extraordinary divine influence. 
 
 For the historians of whom we speak, do not 
 merely give us a very circumstantial account of 
 actions ; as what journeys Christ made, what mira- 
 cles he performed, in what manner he was received, 
 where and how he died, and rose again, and ascend- 
 ed into heaven ; but they do also, as we may rea- 
 sonably expect they should, give us an account of 
 the doctrine he taught: and indeed, if they had not 
 done tills, the knowledge of his story, amazing as 
 it is, would have been but an unprofitable amuse- 
 ment to us. Nor do they content themselves with 
 giving us a short summary of his doctrine, or a view 
 of the religion he intended to introduce, as the 
 general result of their having attended so long on 
 his instructions; but tliey presume to tell us his 
 very words. And here they do not merely relate 
 some sbort sayings, the lemarkable poignancy of 
 which, or their propriety to the circumstances in 
 which they were spoken, might have struck the 
 memory with a peculiar force ; but they insert long 
 discourses vvhich he made on public occasions; 
 though they do not pretend that he left any copies 
 of them, or that they themselves took them from 
 any written memoirs whatsoever : and it is worth 
 our notice, that, besides the many shorter sayings 
 and replies, with which the history is interspersed, 
 near one half of the four gospels is taken up with 
 the insertion of these discourses.* 
 
 Now it was highly necessary, that if these speeches 
 of our Lord were recorded at all, they should be 
 recorded with great exactness; for many of Ihcm 
 j relate to the system of doctrines which he came to 
 teach ; and others of them are predictions of future 
 'events, referring to a great variety of curious cir- 
 cumstances, where a small mistake might greatly 
 have affected the credit of the prediction, and with 
 it the cause of Christianity in general : so that 
 common prudence would have taught the apostles 
 to wave them, rather than pretend to deliver them 
 to posterity, if they had not been sure they could 
 have done it exactly. 
 
 But how could they have expected to have done 
 
 * If my computation docs not deceive me, 93 of onr 203 sections are 
 token U|> thus, and some of them are loiin sections too : and the num. 
 her of verses contained in tliese discourses, to that of tlic whole, ii as 
 aljout 1700 to 3779, which is the number of verses in the four gospels. 
 
 1103 
 
 this, merely by the natural strength of their own 
 memories ; unless we imagine each of tlieni to be a 
 prodigy in that respect, to which no one of them 
 makes the least shadow of a pretence ? It is well 
 known, that several of those speeches of Christ 
 which Matthew and John give us, not now to men- 
 tion the other evangelists, contain several pages ; 
 and some of them cannot be delibciately and de- 
 cently read over in less than a quarter of an hour. 
 Now I believe, if my reader would make tlie experi- 
 ment on any thing of that length vvhich he read or 
 heard yesterday, or even on one of those discourses 
 of Christ, though perhaps he has read or heard it a 
 hundred times; he would find, on a careful ex- 
 amination, many things would probably be omitted ; 
 many transposed ; many expressed in a different 
 manner : and were he to write a copy of such a dis- 
 course from his memory, and then critically to com- 
 pare it with the original, he would lind the sense, 
 in many particulars, where there was some general 
 resemblance, more difl'erent than he could perhaps 
 have imagined ; and variations, which at first seem- 
 ed but inconsiderable, would appear greatly to 
 affect the sense, when they came to be more nicely 
 reviewed. If this would so probably be tlie case 
 with ninety-nine out of a hundred of mankind, and 
 I certainly speak within compass, when a discourse 
 to be repealed had been delivered but a day or an 
 hour before ; what could be expected from the apos- 
 tles, with an interval of so many years .' And espe- 
 cially from John, who has, in proportion to the 
 length of his gospel, recoided more speeches than 
 any of the rest, and wrote them, if we may credit 
 the most authentic tradition, more than half a cen- 
 tury after our Lord's ascension ? 
 
 This argument would have great weight, with 
 relation to a man. whose life was ever so peaceful, 
 and his aflairs contracted in the narrowest sphere: 
 but it will be greatly strengthened, when we come 
 to consider the multitude anil variety of scenes, and 
 those too the most interesting that can be imagined, 
 through whk:h the apostles passed. When we con- 
 .sider all their labours and their cares ; tiie journeys 
 they were continually taking; the novelty of ob- 
 jects perpetually siirrountling them ; and, above all, 
 liie persecutions and dangers to which they were 
 daily exposed ; and the strong manner in which 
 the mind is struck, and the memory of past circum- 
 stances erased, by such occurrences ; I cannot con- 
 ceive, that any reader will be so unreasonable, as to 
 imagine these things could have been written with 
 any exactness by the apostles, if they had not been 
 miraculously assisted in recording them. And w hat 
 is particularly mentioned by the last of these 
 writers, of the promised agency of the Spirit to 
 bring to their remembrance all things they had 
 heard from Christ himself; John xiv. 20. must I 
 think incontestably prove, that this was one purpose 
 
1104 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 lor whicli the Spirit was given ; and tlicrefoic, we 
 may he sure, tliat it was a purpose for w liieh it was 
 needed. 
 
 I liopc I have by tliis time convinced my reader, 
 tliat it is agreeable to the other circumstances of 
 the apostles' story, and to the promises whicli our 
 Lord so largely and so tVoiiiently made to tlieni, 
 and the fretiuent repetition of the promise strongly 
 intimates the importance of it, to suppose, that they 
 were indeed favoured with a full ius[iiration in 
 their writings. 
 
 But to complete the argument, it must he observ- 
 ed, that these holy men, for such the history plainly 
 shows them to have been, assume to themselves 
 such an authority, and speak of their own discourses 
 and writings in such peculiar language, as nothing 
 but a consciousness of such inspiration could war- 
 rant, or even excuse. 
 
 To make us duly sensible of the force of this 
 argument, let us hear Paul, Peter, and John, and 
 we shall find the remark applicable to them all ; 
 though as St. Paul wrote much more tlian either of 
 the latter, w e may naturally expect to find the most 
 frequent instances of it in his writings. 
 
 When the apostle Paul had taken notice to the 
 Corinthians, that the subject of his preaching was 
 the wisdom of God in a mystery, and related to 
 things which transcended the sense and imagina- 
 tion of men, he adds, 1 Cor. ii. 10. " But God 
 hath revealed them to us hy his Spirit ; for the 
 Spirit seaicheth all things, even the deep things of 
 God :" and again, ver. 12. " We have received, 
 not the spirit of the world, so as to act in that artful 
 way, which a regard to secular advantages dictates; 
 but the Spirit which is of God, that we may know 
 the things that are freely given us of God." Now 
 it is natural to conclude from hence, that this 
 knowledge being given them, not merely or chiefly 
 for themselves, but for the church, in which view 
 they speak of themselves and their office, as the 
 gift of God to the church ; compare Eph. iv. IJ, 12. 
 and 1 Cor. iii. 21 — 23. they should be assisted to 
 communicate it in a proper manner; since other- 
 wise, the end of God in giving it to them would he 
 frustrated. But the apostle does not content him- 
 self with barely suggesting this ; but he asserts it 
 in the most express terms : 1 Cor. ii. 13. Which 
 things also we speak, not in the words which man's 
 ■wisdom teacheth, that is, not with a vain ostenta- 
 tion of human eloquence ; but which the Holy 
 Ghost teacheth ; comparing spiritual tilings with 
 spiritual ; or, as some would render and paraphrase 
 it, adapting spiritual expressions to spiritual 
 things.* And in the close of the chapter, when 
 with a noble freedom, in a consciousness of the dis- 
 tinguished character he bore, he puts the question 
 to the whole world besides ; Who hath known the 
 
 * UvcvfiaTtKoci TTi'Ct'/jaTfKa UKyKpivuvTC^. 
 
 mind of the Lord ? he adds. But we have the niiud 
 of Christ. Which last clause plainly determines 
 the sense, in which we are to take those words at 
 the close of chap. vii. And I think also, that 1 have 
 the Spirit of God;t that is, " I certainly appear 
 to have it ;" or, " it is evident and apparent, that 
 my pretences to it arc not a vain boast." For, 
 after having so expressly asserted it just above, none 
 can imagine he meant here to insinuate, that he 
 was uncertain whether he had it or not. He ap- 
 peals therefore to those whose gifts were most emi- 
 nent, to dispute it, if they could : 1 Cor. xiv. 37. 
 If any man think himself to be a prophet, or spi- 
 ritual, that is, if he have ever so good evidence that 
 he really is so, for it cannot be thought he meant to 
 appeal only to those who falsely pretended to tlicse 
 endowments, let him acknowledge, that the things 
 which I write unto you are the commandments of the 
 Lord. — In his second epistle to the Corinthians, 
 chap. ii. 10. he speaks of forgiving offenders in the 
 person of Christ ; and amidst the humblest acknow- 
 ledgments of his own insufficiency, boasts a suffi- 
 ciency of God, who had made him an able minister 
 of the New Testament. 2 Cor. iii. 5, G. Of which he 
 was so thoroughly sensible, that in the first epistle 
 which he ever wrote, so far as Scripture informs us, 
 to any of the churches, I mean, his first epistle to 
 the Tliessalonians, he ventures to say, chap. iv. 8. 
 lie tliat despiseth, that is, as the context plainly im- 
 plies, he that despiseth or rejecteth, what I now 
 write, despiseth not man, only or chiefly, but God, 
 who hath given us his Holy Spirit : which mani- 
 festly intimates, that what he wrote was under 
 supernatural divine guidance and influence, as in 
 the second verse of that chapter he had spoken of 
 commandments which he had given them by the 
 Lord Jesus Christ; just as he afterwards declared 
 to the Corinthians, 2 Cor. xiii. 3. how well he was 
 able to give proofs of Christ speaking in him. — In 
 his epistle to the Galatians, the apostle solemnly 
 assures them, Gal. i. 11, 12. that the gospel which 
 he had preached among them, was not after man, 
 that is, not of any human original : and he gives 
 this substantial proof of it, that he was himself 
 taught it, no otherwise than by the immediate reve- 
 lation of Jesus Christ. Agreeable to which asser- 
 tion, when he gives the Corinthians an account of 
 the institution and design of the Lord's supper, he 
 says in so many words, I Cor. xi. 23. That he had 
 received of the Lord, what he delivered unto them ; 
 that is, that he had his notion of that sacrament, 
 and of the actions and words of Christ on which it 
 was founded, by an immediate inspiration from him, 
 or, in the language we have used above, by sugges- 
 tion. And he speaks of his brethren, as well as of 
 himself, in these terms, Eph. iii. 3, 5. That the 
 mystery of Christ which was before unknown, that 
 
 + j^OKftt 6c liiffO) Uvci'/ia ©€" exec. 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. II. 
 
 1105 
 
 is, the right of the Gentiles, on believing the gospel, 
 to full communion with the Christian church, was 
 made known to the holy apostles and prophets by 
 the Spirit, and not merely by the natural recollec- 
 tion of what they had heard Christ say, or by their 
 own reasonings upon it. 
 
 Most agreeable to this is the strain of Peter, who, 
 in one epistle, joins the commandment of the apos- 
 tles with the words of the holy prophets ; 2 Pet. iii. 
 2. and mentions the epistles of Paul with other 
 scriptures, ver. 15, 16. no doubt, in allusion to the 
 sacred oracles of the Old Testament, which so 
 generally went by that name. And in his other 
 epistle, he insists strenuously '.ipon it, that the 
 gospel was preached with the Holy Ghost sent 
 down from heaven, in exact conformity to the pro- 
 phetic oracles of former ages, not understood by 
 those who uttered them ; a circumstance, in this 
 connexion, highly worthy of our remark : and he 
 seems strongly to intimate, that the angels them- 
 selves did by these apostolical preachings learn 
 some things, which, with all their superior facul- 
 ties, they did not before so fully know : Which 
 things, says lie, the angels desire to look into, 1 Pet. 
 i. 12. As Paul had also said, that, to the principa- 
 lities and powers in heavenly places, Mas made 
 known by the church the manifold wisdom of God, 
 Eph. iii. 10. 
 
 To conclude this argument, St. John, remarkable 
 as he was for his singular modesty and ingenuity of 
 temper, does not only tell us, that Jesus Christ 
 showed liim the revelation ; Rev. i. 1. but speaks in 
 his epistle, of an unction poured out from the Holy 
 One, by which they knew all things, 1 John ii. 20. 
 And in another passage he in effect asserts, that he 
 had, in concurrence with his brethren, given such 
 abundant proof of his being under the divine in- 
 fluence and direction in his teaching, whether by 
 word or letter, that an agreement or disagreement 
 with his doctrine was to be made the standard by 
 which they might judge of truth or error, and obe- 
 dience or disobedience to his injunctions the test of 
 a good or a bad man ; which is considerably more 
 tlian merely asserting the fullest inspiration. 1 John 
 iv. 6. We are of God : he that knowcth God, 
 heareth us ; he that is not of God, heareth not us. 
 Hereby know we the spirit of truth, and the spirit 
 of error. 
 
 I might here add, if it were necessary, the several 
 passages of the New Testament, in which the gospel 
 preached by the apostles, is called the gospel of 
 God; such as 2 Cor. xi. 7. 1 Tim. i. 11. and the 
 like: but I omit them, as the stress of the contro- 
 versy does undoubtedly rest on these I have men- 
 tioned ; and the importance of the question mu.st 
 be my defence for so large an enumeration of 
 texts, which are so well known. 
 
 I shall only remind my reader, in a few words, of 
 4 B 
 
 those many passages, in which the gospel as preach- 
 ed by the apostles, is so evidently equalled with, 
 yea, and preferred to, the law given by Moses, and 
 the messages brought to the Jews by the succeed- 
 ing prophets. These afford a further illustration of 
 this argument, which will appear with very con- 
 siderable weight, when we reflect on the high 
 opinion they had of the Old Testament, and the 
 honourable terms in which they speak of it, as the 
 word and oracles of God, Rom. iii. 2. as given by 
 his inspiration, 2 Tim. iii. 16. and as that, whicli 
 holy men spake, as they were moved, or borne on, 
 [(ptpoiitvoi,] by the Holy Ghost, 2 Peter i. 21. None 
 can fail of observing, that they quote its authority, 
 on all occasions, as decisive ; yea, our Lord hiniselt" 
 strongly intimates, not only the strict truth of the 
 wliole, but, which is much more, that it were intoler- 
 able to suppose it chargeable with any impropriety of 
 expression ; for this must be the sense of those re- 
 markable words, John x. 35. that the Scripture 
 cannot be broken ; and the whole force of our 
 Lord's argument depends upon interpreting them 
 thus. I might argue at large the improbability, and 
 indeed the great absurdity of supposing, that such 
 assistances were given to Moses and the prophets, 
 as to make their writings an infallible rule of faith 
 and practice, and that the subjects of God's only- 
 begotten Son, and the grand minister in his king- 
 dom, should be left destitute of equal assistance in 
 their work and writings. I think the argument 
 would be unanswerable, if considered apart : but I 
 now mention it in another view, as illustrating the 
 persuasion the apostles had of their own inspir- 
 ation, when they speak of their teachings and 
 decisions, as equally authentic with those of the 
 illustrious prophets, for v\hom they had so great 
 and so just a regard. 
 
 I am fully satisfied,- that this last argument, from 
 the manner in which the apostles speak of them- 
 selves in their writings, will strike the reader, in 
 proportion to the degree in which he reflects upon 
 the true character of these excellent jnen, and espe- 
 cially upon that modesty and humility, in wluch 
 they bore so bright and so lovely a resemblance of 
 their divine Master. Let him ask liimself what he 
 would think of any minister of Christ now, sup- 
 posing him ever so eminent for learning, wisdom, 
 and piety, that should assume to himself such an 
 authority ? Suppose such a man, under the in- 
 fluence of no miraculous guidance, to say, not with 
 reference to what he might quote from others, but 
 with regard to his own dictates, " The tilings which 
 I write unto you, are the commandments of the 
 Lord : he that despiseth, despiseth not man, but 
 God : wo have the mind of Christ ; and he that 
 heareth not us, that receiveth not our dictates in 
 religion, is not of God." Suppose, I say, such lan- 
 guage as this to be used publicly by any Christian 
 
1106 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 minister now on cartli, and you must necessarily 
 suppose liis cliaraoter from that very hour over- 
 thrown. Tlie whole w orld would immediately join 
 in loudly demanding miraculous proofs to verify 
 such assertions ; or in condemning;, with just in- 
 dig-nafion, such a claim unsupported by tliem, as an 
 unpardonable lordinp; it over men's faith and eon- 
 scicnee, and thrustinf? themselves into their Master's 
 throne. Let us not then charge the holy apostles 
 with a conduct, of which we should not suspect any 
 wise and good man now upon the face of the earth ; 
 and which if we saw in any of our friends, our 
 charity and respect for them would incline us to 
 inquire after some marks of lunacy in them, as its 
 best excuse. 
 
 I have now given an easy and popular view of the 
 principal arguments for the inspiration of the New 
 Testament,* on which my own faith in that import- 
 ant doctrine rests ; and such a one, as I hope by the 
 divine blessing may be useful to others. I shall 
 not enter into a particular consideration of the 
 several objections against it, which chiefly arise 
 from texts of Scripture, in which some pretend to 
 find, that the apostles were actually mistaken. I 
 have considered most of these objections already, 
 in my notes on the texts from whence they are 
 taken : for almost all of them relate to passages in 
 the historical books, and I do not know thcit I have 
 omitted any of them ; but have every where given, 
 though as briefly as I could, such solutions as ap- 
 peared to me in conscience satisfactory, though I 
 have not stood formally to discuss them as objec- 
 tions against the inspiration of those books. 
 
 The reader will observe, that very few instances 
 have occurred, in which I have judged it necessary 
 to allow an error in our present copies : but as in 
 those few instances the supposed change of a word 
 or two makes the matter perfectly easy, I think it 
 most respectful to the sacred writings, to account 
 for the seeming difficulty thus, and to impute it to 
 the transcribers ; though it is certain, some of these 
 mistakes, supposing them such, did happen very 
 early ; because, as Mr. Seed very properly expresses 
 it in his excellent sermon on this subject,! which, 
 since 1 wrote the former part of this Dissertation, 
 fell into my hands, a partial inspiration is, to all 
 intents and purposes, no inspiration at all : for, as 
 he justly argues against the supposition of any 
 mixture of error in these sacred writings, " Man- 
 kind would be as much embarrassed, to know what 
 was inspired, and what was not, as they could be 
 to collect a religion for themselves ; the conse- 
 quence of which would be, that wc are left just 
 where we were, and that God put himself to a great 
 
 * I was desired by a friend, for wliose piety and good sense I have a 
 very great ret^ard, to add a note liere, oit the inspiration of tiie Old 
 Testament: but as it would refjurre a lar^^e one, and might |ierliaps 
 interrupt the reader, I choose to throw it into a postscript at the end 
 of this dissertation. 
 
 + See Mr. Seed's Sermons, vol. ii. pa^e 322. 
 
 expense of miracles to effect nothing at all : a 
 consequence highly derogatory and injurious to his 
 honour." 
 
 The arguments brought from a few passages in- 
 the epistles, to prove that the apostles did not think 
 themselves inspiied, weak as they are, will be con- 
 sidered, if God permit, in their proper places. At 
 present I shall content myself with referring the 
 reader to Dr. Whitby, who I think has given a 
 satisfactory solution to them all. 
 
 There are other objections of a quite different 
 class, with which I have no concern ; because they 
 affect only such a degree of inspiration, as I think 
 it not prudent, and am sure it is not necessary, to 
 assert. I leave them therefore to be answered by 
 those, if any such there be, who imagine that Paul 
 would need an immediate revelation from hctiven, 
 and a miraculous dictate of the Holy Ghost, to 
 remind Timothy of the cloak and writings which he 
 left at Troas, or to advise him to mingle a little 
 wine with his water. 
 
 Waving therefore the further discussion of these 
 topics, on which it would be more easy than pro- 
 fitable to enlarge, I shall conclude this Dissertation 
 with a reflection or two of a practical nature, into 
 which I earnestly entreat the reader to enter with a 
 becoming attention. 
 
 Let me engage him seriously to pause, and con- 
 sider, what sort of an impression it ought to make 
 upon us, to think, that we have such a book ; a book, 
 written by a full divine inspiration : that amidst 
 all the uncertain variety of human reasonings and 
 conjectures, we have a celestial guide through the 
 labyrinth : that God hath condescended to take 
 care, that we should have a most authentic and 
 unerring account of certain important, though very 
 distant, facts, many of which were wrought with his 
 own hand ; and with these facts, should have a 
 system of most weighty and interesting doctrines, to 
 the truth of which he makes himself a witness. 
 Such a book must to every considerate person ap- 
 pear an inestimable treasure ; and it certainly calls 
 for our most affectionate acknowledgment, that 
 God should confer such a favour on any of his 
 creatures, and much more on those, who by abusinff 
 in too many instances their natural light, had made 
 themselves so utterly unworthy of supernatural. 
 
 From this view of the inspiration of Scripture, 
 we may also infer our obligation to study it with 
 the greatest attention and care ; to read it in our 
 closets and our families ; and to searcli in the most 
 diligent and impartial manner into its genuine 
 sense, design, and tendency : which is, in the main, 
 so evident, that no upright heart can fail of under- 
 standing it, and every truly good heart must delight 
 to comply with it. This is indeed a most important 
 inference, and that, without which, all our convic- 
 tions of its divine authority will only condemn us 
 
A DISSERTATION, No. II, 
 
 1107 
 
 before God and our own consciences. Let us there- 
 fore always remember, that in consequence of all 
 these important premises, we arc indispensably 
 obliged to receive with calm and reverent submis- 
 sion all the dictates of Scripture ; to make it our 
 oracle ; and, in this respect, to set it at a due dis- 
 tance from all other writings whatsoever ; as it is 
 certain, there is no other book in the world, that 
 can pretend to equal authority, and produce equal 
 or comparable proofs to support such a pretension. 
 Let us measure the truth of our own sentiments, or 
 those of others, in the great things which Scripture 
 teaches, by their conformity to it. And O that the 
 powerful charm of this blessed book might prevail 
 to draw all that do sincerely regard it into this 
 centre of unity ! That, dropping those unscriptural 
 forms, which have so lamentably divided the church, 
 we might more generally content ourselves with the 
 simplicity of divine truths as they are here taught, 
 and agree to put the mildest and kindest interpre- 
 tation we can, upon the language and sentiments of 
 each other. This is what I cannot forbear incul- 
 cating again and again, from a firm persuasion, that 
 it is agreeable to the spirit of the gospel, and 
 pleasing to its great Author : and I inculcate it in 
 this place, and at this time, with peculiar afl'ection, 
 as the providence of God around us calls us loudly 
 to do all we can with a safe conscience, to promote 
 a union among protestants. And I heartily pray, 
 that our mutual jealousies and prejudices, wliich 
 some are so unseasonably labouring to exasperate, 
 may not provoke God to drive us together by a 
 storm of persecution ; if peradventure the bond of 
 suffering together may be strong enough to bind 
 those, whom the endearments of the same Christian 
 profession, the same rule of faith, of manners, and 
 of hope, have not yet been able to unite. 
 
 On the whole, let me most affectionately invite 
 and entreat every reader, whatsoever his rank in 
 life, or his proficiency in learning, may be, seriously 
 to consider the practical design of these sacred 
 oracles, the sense and authority of which I have 
 been endeavouring to explain and assert. It is in- 
 deed a mystery in Divine Providence, that there 
 should still remain so much difficulty in them, as 
 that in many points of doctrine, thoughtful, serious, 
 and I trust upright, men should form such diff'erent 
 opinions concerning the interpretation of so many 
 passages, and the justice of consequences drawn 
 from them, on the one side, and on the other. But 
 of this there can be no controversy, "That the 
 great design of the New Testament, in delightful 
 harmony with the Old, is to call olT our minds from 
 the present world, to establish us in the belief of a 
 future slate, and to form us to a serious preparation 
 for it, by bringing us to a lively faith in Christ, and, 
 as the genuine effect of that, to a filial love to God, 
 and a fraternal afl'ection for each other:" or, in 
 4 B 2 
 
 one word, and a weightier and more comprehensive 
 sentence was never written, " to teach us, that 
 denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should 
 live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present 
 world ; looking for that blessed hope, even the 
 glorious appearance of the great God and our 
 Saviour Jesus Christ," Tit. ii. 12, 13. To his al- 
 mighty hand may our souls be committed, by a 
 faith productive of these glorious fruits ; and, under 
 the sanctifying, quickening, and supporting influ- 
 ences of his Spirit, may we wait for his mercy unto 
 eternal life ! Then shall no terror of suffering, no 
 allurement of pleasure, no sophistry of error, be 
 able to seduce us ; but guided by that light and 
 truth, which shines forth in the sacred pages, we 
 shall march on to that holy hill ; where, having 
 happily escaped all the dangers of that dark path 
 which we now tread, we shall greet the dawning of 
 an everlasting day, the arising of a day-star which 
 shall go down no more. Amen ! 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 A Sketch of the Arguments, hywhichthe Inspiration 
 of the Old Testament may he proved in the easiest 
 method, and by the most solid and convincing evi- 
 dence. 
 
 If the proof of the inspiration of the Old Testa- 
 ment be deduced in its full compass from its first 
 principles, we must have recourse to a method, very 
 nearly resembling that which is taken in the three 
 sermons referred to above, for proving the authority 
 of the New ; that is, we n»ust first prove, that the 
 books are genuine ; and then, that the history 
 which they contain is credible : from which pre- 
 mises the inspiration of the Old Testament may 
 easily be inferred, by a train of arguments similar 
 to that which we have pursued in the Dissertation 
 above. 
 
 For proving the genuineness of the books, I 
 should think it proper brieffy to show, (what I 
 think hardly any will be so ignorant and confident 
 as to deny,) that the .Jewish religion is of consider- 
 able antiquity, and was founded by Moses about 
 fifteen hundred years before Christ's time : and fur- 
 ther, — That the Jews, before and at the time of 
 Christ, had books among them bearing the titles of 
 those, which make up what we protcstants call the 
 canonical books of the Old Testament : — And that 
 these books, then received in the Jewish church, 
 were the genuine works of the persons to whom they 
 were respectively ascribed : — From hence it is easy 
 further to show, that they have not suffered, and 
 (considering what a guard the Jews and Christians 
 were upon each other) could not suffer, any ma- 
 terial alteration since ; and consequently, that the 
 Old Testament, as now extant in the Hebrew an<l 
 
TRACTS. 
 
 U08 
 
 Chaldec lan<]:iing'cs, is genuine, and in the main 
 such as it originally was. 
 
 In order to prove its credibility from this estab- 
 lished medium, we may prepare the way, by show- 
 ing. That many material facts which are there 
 recorded, are also mentioned by very ancient 
 
 heathen writers And it is yet more important to 
 
 show, as we very easily may, that tliere is room to 
 go over the same leading thouglits, with those in- 
 sisted upon in the second of the three sermons men- 
 tioned above, and to argue the credibility of the 
 story, from the certain opportunities which the 
 writers had of informing themselves as to the cer- 
 tain truth of the grand facts which they assert, as 
 having themselves been personally concerned in 
 them ; and from those many marks of integrity and 
 piety to be found in their writings, which may do as 
 much as any tiling of that kind can do, to obviate 
 any suspicion of an intention to deceive. — We may 
 here also advance further, and demonstrate beyond 
 all contradiction, that the facts asserted were of 
 such a nature, as could not possibly have gained 
 credit, had they been false ; yet that they did gain 
 most assured credit, of which the persons receiving 
 these books gave the most substantial evidence that 
 can be imagined, by receiving, on the authority of 
 these facts, a system of laws, which though con- 
 sidered as to be divinely supported they were ad- 
 mirably wise, yet were of such a nature, that without 
 such an extraordinary providence as nothing but 
 an assurance of such an original could have war- 
 ranted them to expect, they must necessarily have 
 proved ruinous to the state they were intended to 
 regulate and establish.* 
 
 A further and very noble evidence of the truth of 
 the grand facts attested in the Old Testanient, and 
 of the inspiration of a considerable part of it, may 
 be drawn from the consideration of those numerous 
 and various predictions to be found in it ; which 
 refer to a multitude of events, several of them before 
 utterly unexampled, which no human sagacity could 
 possibly have foreseen, and which nevertheless hap- 
 pened exactly according to those predictions.! 
 
 Having advanced thus far, we may take up a set 
 of arguments correspondent to those insisted on 
 above, to prove from its genuineness and credibility, 
 now supposed to be evinced, that the Old Testament 
 was written by a superintendent inspiration : and 
 this we may argue, not merely, or chiefly, from the 
 tradition to this purpose, so generally and so early 
 prevailing in the Jewish church, tliough that is 
 considerable ; nor even from those very signal and 
 glorious internal evidences of various kinds, which 
 
 * The reader will easily iraafrine, I here refer especially to the laws 
 relating to letting all the laud lie fallow together once in seven years, 
 and two years together at every jnbijee; the desertion of their bor- 
 ders at the three great feasts, when all the males went up to the taber- 
 nacle or temple ; and the disuse of cavalry ; to omit some others. 
 
 + Set Dr. Sykes's Connection. 
 
 every competent judge may easily see and feel ; but 
 from surveying the characters and circumstances of 
 the persons by whom the several books were written, 
 in comparison with the genius of that dispensation 
 under which they lived and wrote. This may, in 
 all tlie branches of the argument, be proved in this 
 way, with the greatest ease and strength, concern- 
 ing Moses, and his writings : and when the autho- 
 rity of the Pentateuch is established, that of most 
 material succeeding books stands in so easy and 
 natural a connexion with it, that I think few have 
 been found, at least since the controversy between 
 the Jews and the Samaritans, who have in good 
 earnest allowed Moses to liave been a messenger 
 from heaven, and denied the inspiration of the pro- 
 phets, and of the books which we receive as written 
 by them. 
 
 But it is obvious, that the illustration of all these 
 propositions would be the work of a large volume, 
 rather than of such a Postscript to a Dissertation, 
 itself of so moderate a length. I have discussed 
 them ail, with the most material objections which 
 have been advanced against them, in that course of 
 theological lectures, which I mentioned in the pre- 
 face to the first volume ; and which it is my con- 
 tinual care to render worthy the acceptance of the 
 public in due time, by such alterations and addi- 
 tions as frequent reviews, in conjunction with what 
 occurs to me in reading, conversation, or medita- 
 tion, may suggest. 
 
 I shall conclude these hints, witli the mention of 
 one argument for the Inspiration of the Old Testa- 
 ment, entirely independent of all the former ; which 
 a few words may set in a convincing light, and 
 which must be satisfactory to all who see the rea- 
 sonableness of acquiescing in what I have urged 
 above. I mean, — That the inspiration, and conse- 
 quently the genuineness and credibility, of the Old 
 Testament, may be certainly inferred from that of 
 the New :l because our Lord and his apostles were 
 so far from charging the scribes and pharisees, (who 
 on all proper occasions are censured so freely,) 
 with having introduced into the sacred volume any 
 merely human compositions; that, on the contrary, 
 
 t It may be objected to this, that the authority of the New Testa, 
 meul, as stated in the Sermons referred tf>, and in most other defences 
 of Christianity, is in part proved from the prophecies of the Old; so 
 that the argument here urged would be circular. To which I would 
 answer, (I.) That if we were to take this medium alone, we must in. 
 deed sub^tr,act from the proof of Christianity all that branch of its 
 evidence which grows from projihecies of the Old Testament; and 
 then, all that arises from miracles, internal argunient.s, and the won. 
 dcrful events which have followed its first promulgal ion, would stand 
 in thi ir full force, first to demonstrate (I think, In high satisfaction) 
 the divine original of the New Testament, and then to prove the 
 authority of the Old. (2.) That most of the enemies of the Mosaic 
 and Christian revelatiims do nevertheless own those which we call the 
 prophetical books of the Old Testament to be more ancient than the 
 New: and on this foundation alone, without first taking for granted, 
 that they are either inspired or genuine, wc derive an argument for 
 Christianity, from their mere existence ; ami then may argue back- 
 ward, that they were divinely inspired, and therefore genuine; and so, 
 by a further conse(|Uenee, may infer from them the divine ai\thority of 
 the Mosaic religion, which they so evidently attest; which is nn 
 ;irgument .sometliing distinct from the testimony "of the authors of the 
 New Testament, but important enough to deserve a mention. 
 
POSTSCRIPT TO DISSERTATION, No. 11. 
 
 1109 
 
 they not only recommend a diligent and constant 
 perusal of these Scriptures, as of the greatest im- 
 portance to men's eternal happiness ; but speak of 
 them as divine oracles, and as written by the ex- 
 traordinary influence of the Holy Spirit upon the 
 minds of the authors. 
 
 I desire that the following list of scriptures may 
 be attentively consulted, and reflected on, in this 
 view. I might have added a great many more, in- 
 deed several hundreds, in which the sacred writers 
 of the New Testament argue from those of the Old, 
 in such a manner, as nothing could have justified, 
 but a firm persuasion that they were divinely in- 
 spired. Now as the Jews always allowed, " that 
 the testimony of an approved prophet was sufficient 
 to confirm the mission of one who was supported by 
 it," so I think every reasonable man will readily 
 
 conclude, that no inspired person can erroneously 
 attest another to be inspired : and indeed the very 
 definition of plenary inspiration, as stated above, 
 absolutely excludes any room for cavilling on so 
 plain a head. I throw the particular passages 
 which I choose to mention, into the margin below ;* 
 and he must be a very indolent inquirer into a 
 question of so much importance, who does not think 
 it worth his while to turn carefully to them, unless 
 he has already such a conviction of the argument, 
 that it should need no further to be illustrated or 
 confirmed. 
 
 * John V. 39. Matt. iv. 4, 7, 10. Mark xii. 24. Luke x. 26, 27. Matt. t. 
 17, 18 ; xxi. 42 ; xxii. 29, 31, 43 ; xxiv. Ij ; xxvi. 54, 56. Luke i. 67, 
 69, 70; xvi. 31 ; xxiv. 25, 27. John x. 35. Acts ii. 16, 25; iii. 22, 24 ; 
 iv. 25; xvii. 11 ; xviii. 24, 28; xxviii. 25. Rom. iii 2, 10; ix. 25, 27, 
 29; x. 5, 11, 16; xv. 4 ; xvi. 26. 1 Cor. x. 11. 2 Cor. iv. 13 ; vi. 16, 17. 
 Gal. iii. 3. I Tim. v. 18. 2 Tim. iii. 15, 16. Heb. i. I, 5—13; iii. 7. 
 Jam.ii.8; iv.5, 6. 1 Pet, i. 10—12. 2 Pet. i. 19—21. 
 
FREE THOUGHTS 
 
 ON TUE MOST PROBABLE MEANS 
 
 OF REVIVING THE DISSENTING INTEREST. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE LATE 
 
 INQUIRY INTO THE CAUSES OF ITS DECAY. 
 
 To the Author of the Inquiry into the Causes of the Decay of the Dissenting Interest. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 You will probably be surprised at this address on 
 occasion of your Inquiry, so many months after the 
 publication of it. But my distance from the town, 
 and engagement in business, hindered me from an 
 early sight of it ; and many accidents, which it is 
 of no importance to mention, obliged me to delay 
 finishing these papers, so soon as I intended when 
 I began to write them. On the whole, as I am not 
 attempting to criticise on your perfonnance, but 
 only to offer some remarks, which I hope may be of 
 common use, if what I say be just and important, it 
 cannot be quite too late ; and if it be either false or 
 trilling, it appears after all too soon. 
 
 As I am persuaded that the dissenting cause is 
 founded on reason and truth, and that the honour 
 of God and the public good is nearly concerned in 
 its support, you have my hearty thanks for that 
 generous zeal with which you have appeared for 
 the defence of it. On this account, I should think 
 myself highly obliged to treat you with decency and 
 respect, how much soever my sentiments might 
 differ from yours, as to the particular causes of its 
 decay. And indeed. Sir, you have taken the most 
 efiTectual method in the world to prevent any thing 
 of a rude attack, by treating all whom you mention, 
 even the meanest and the weakest, with remarkable 
 candour and humanity. 
 
 But I have the happiness of agreeing with you in 
 far ihe greater part of what you advance. I will 
 not now debate, whether the principles of our dis- 
 sent are less known than they formerly were ; and 
 consequently whether that be, properly speaking, a 
 cause of the late decay of our interest: but I will 
 
 readily grant. Sir, that it is highly necessary they 
 should be known ; and I think you have done us a 
 great deal of service by setting them in so easy, and 
 yet in so strong, a light. I hope it may be a means 
 of informing and establishing some, who are too 
 busy or too indolent to give themselves the trouble 
 of perusing what Dr. Calamy, Mr. Peirce, and some 
 others, have written so copiously and so judiciously 
 upon the subject. 
 
 I further apprehend, Sir, that nothing can be said 
 upon the case before us of more certain truth or 
 more solid importance, than what you have fre- 
 quently observed : viz. that our interest has received 
 great damage from our acting in a manner directly 
 opposite to our principles, by unscriptural imposi- 
 tions, and uncharitable contentions with each other. 
 I hope many of us have seen our mistakes here, and 
 shall be careful, for the future, to avoid what has 
 been attended with so many unhappy consequences. 
 
 After having thus declared my agreement with 
 yoti, in the greater part of your discour.te, I hope. 
 Sir, you will pardon me, if I add, that I eannot 
 think that you have exhausted your subject. To 
 speak freely, I think you have omitted some causes 
 of the decay of our interest, which are at least as 
 important a.s those you have handled. It is the de- 
 sign of my present undertaking, to point out some 
 of the most considerable of them, which have oc- 
 curred to my thoughts : and I persuade myself. Sir, 
 you will be no more offended with me, for offering 
 this supplement to your Inquiry, than I imagine 
 I should mjiself be with any third person, who 
 should fix upon others which may have escaped us 
 both. 
 
ON REVIVING THE DISSENTING INTEREST. 
 
 nil 
 
 You will the more readily excuse tbe freedom 
 which I take, as I imagine that the scenes of our 
 lives have been widely different,* and consequently 
 I may have had an opportunity of making some 
 useful observations which have not fallen in your 
 way : though I question not but if you, Sir, had 
 been in my circumstances, you would soon have 
 remarked them ; and perhaps have communicated 
 them to the public with much greater advantage. 
 
 I shall add nothing more by way of introduction, 
 but that I choose the title I have prefixed to these 
 papers, rather than that of a Further Inquiry into 
 the Causes of the Decay of the Dissenting Interest; 
 partly. Sir, as it seemed most respectful to you, 
 but principally that I may not appear to advance 
 any direct charge against any of my brethren in 
 the process of this discourse. I am sensible that 
 would be highly indecent on many accounts, and 
 particularly as it is from the example of several 
 amongst them whom I have most intimately known, 
 that I have learnt many of those particulars of 
 conduct, which I am now going to offer to your 
 consideration, as the happiest expedients for the 
 revival of our common cause. 
 
 But before I proceed to particulars, I would ob- 
 serve (wliat we immediately allow, but too quickly 
 forget) that we are to be concerned for this interest, 
 not merely as the cause of a distinct party, but of 
 truth, honour, and liberty ; and I will add, in a 
 great measure, the cause of serious piety too. I 
 would be far from confining all true religion to the 
 members of our own congregations. I am very well 
 aware tliat there arc a multitude of excellent per- 
 sons in the establishment, both amongst the clergy 
 and the laity, who are (in their dilferent stations) 
 burning and shining lights ; such as reflect a glory 
 on the human nature, and the Christian profession. 
 Yet I apprehend some of these are the persons who 
 will most readily allow, that, in proportion to the 
 numbers, there is generally more practical religion 
 to be found in our assemblies, than in theirs. This 
 was surely the original, and this, if I mistake not, 
 must be the support, of our cause. It was not 
 merely a generous sense of liberty, (which may 
 warm the breast of a deist or an atheist,) but a re- 
 ligious reverence for the divine authority, which 
 animated our pious forefathers to so resolute and 
 so expensive an opposition to the attempts which 
 were made in their day, to invade the rights of con- 
 science, and the throne of God, its only sovereign. 
 I And if the cause be not still maintained on the same 
 principles, I think it will hardly be worth our while 
 
 * As the aiitlinr to wliom I write is not certainly known, I take 
 j it for sfntiiteil lie is wlial he seems by liis manner of writing, a ireiitle- 
 I man of the laity: and tlion«^h I have heen tolil since I rlrew n|> this 
 ' letter, lie is supposed hy many to be a younp; minister in town, I have 
 no evidence of it whien is convinrin;; to me: atid as I apprehend, it 
 vouhl he ill manners to appear to know him under such a dis;;nise, I 
 thought It not proper to alter what I had written wilh regard to the late 
 report. 
 
 to be much concerned about maintaining it at all. 
 It must argue a great defect, or partiality of thought, 
 for any, with the Jews of old, to boast of their being 
 free from human impositions, when they are the ser- 
 vants of sin. And all the world will evidently per- 
 ceive, that it is the temper of a pharisee, rather than 
 of a Christian, to contend about mint, anise, and 
 cummin, (on one side of the question or the other,) 
 while there is an apparent indifference about the 
 weightier matters of the law. We that are ministers 
 may entertain ourselves and our hearers with fine 
 harangues in defence of liberty ; but I apprehend, 
 that in the near views of death and eternity, we shall 
 have little satisfaction in reflecting on the converts 
 we have made to that, unless at the same time we 
 have some reason to hope that they are persons of 
 true substantial piety ; such as will be our crown 
 in the day of the Lord, and our companions in the 
 glories of the heavenly world. I cannot say how 
 trilling and contemptible our labours appear to me, 
 when considered in any other view. And therefore. 
 Sir, it will be my concern throughout this whole 
 discourse, to point out those methods for the sup- 
 port of the dissenting interest, which I imagine 
 will be most subservient to the cause of practical 
 religion, and vital holiness in all its branches. 
 
 It was the observation of Dr. Burnet, almost forty 
 years ago, in his incomparable discourse on the 
 pastoral care.f " That the dissenters had then in a 
 great measure lost that good character for strictness 
 in religion, which had gained them their credit, and 
 made such numbers fall off to them." Whether 
 that good character has since been recovered, or has 
 not been more and more declining, some others arc 
 more capable of judging ; but I think it calls for 
 our serious reflection. And if we find upon inquiry, 
 that this our glory is departing, it surely deserves 
 to be mentioned, as one cause, at least, of the decay 
 of our interest: and that all who sincerely wish 
 well to if, should express their afl'ection, by exert- 
 ing themselves with the utmost zeal for the revival 
 of practical religion amongst us. 
 
 This must be our common care, according to the 
 various stations in which Providence has placed us: 
 and as for ministers, nothing can be more evident, 
 than that they, by virtue of their office, arc under 
 peculiar obligations to it. And in order to pursue 
 it with the greater advantage, I cannot but think 
 that it should be their concern, to studif the character 
 and temper of tlieir people ; that, so far as they can 
 do it with conscience and honour, they may render 
 themselves agreeable to them, both in their public 
 ministrations, and their private converse. 
 
 This, Sir, is so obvious a thought, that one would 
 imagine it could not be overlooked or disputed; yet 
 it is certain our interest has received considerable 
 damage for want of a becoming regard to it, espe- 
 
 + Cap. viii. p. 201. 
 
111-2 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 cially ill those who litivc been settiii"- out in the 
 ministry anioiipst us. It was tlicict'orc, Sir, with 
 great surprise, that I found you had entirely omitted 
 it in your late Inquiry, and had dropt some hints, 
 which (tliouj!;h to be sure you did not intend it) nmy 
 very probably lead young preaehers into a dili'erent 
 and eontrary way of thinking, than which hardly 
 any thing can be more prejudicial, either to them, 
 or to the cause in which they are embarked. 
 
 The passage of yours, to which I principally refer, 
 is in the 33(1 and 34th pages of your Inquiry : where, 
 amongst other things, you observe, that " a great 
 many of those things that please the people, have 
 often a very bad tendency in general." And you 
 add, " the being pleased, which they so much insist 
 upon, seldom arises from any thing but some odd- 
 ness that hits their peculiar humour, and is not 
 from any view to edification at all, and therefore 
 too mean to be worthy any one's study. The people 
 do not usually know wherein oratory, strength of 
 speech, the art of persuasion, &c. consist; and 
 therefore it is vanity in such to pretend to be judges 
 of them. I wish I could deny, that amongst us, 
 they generally fall into the falsest and lowest taste 
 imaginable." 
 
 There is, no doubt. Sir, a mixture of truth and 
 good sense in some of these remarks ; but for want 
 of being suflfieiently guarded, they seem liable to the 
 most fatal abuse. I frankly confess, that when I 
 began to preach, I should have read such a passage 
 with transport, and should very briskly have eon- 
 eluded from it (as many of us are ready enough to 
 conclude witliout it) that, with regard to our public 
 discourses, we had nothing to do but to take care 
 that our reasoning were conclusive, our method 
 natural, our language elegant, and our delivery 
 decent; and after all this, if the people did not 
 give us a favourable reception, the fault was to be 
 charged on a perverseness of humour, which they 
 should learn to sacrifice to good sense, and the 
 taste of those who were more judicious than them- 
 selves ; and in the mean time, were the proper 
 objects of contempt ratlier than regard. 
 
 I say not. Sir, that what I have now been quoting 
 from your letter, would lay a just foundation for 
 such a wild conclusion ; but I apprehend that a rash 
 young man, ignorant of the world, and full of 
 himself, might probably draw such a conclusion 
 from it. And if such a conclusion were to be 
 universally received and acted upon, by the 
 rising generation of ministers, it must in a few 
 years be the destruction of our interest, unless 
 the taste of our people should be miraculously 
 changed. 
 
 I am not so absurd and perverse as to assert, * 
 that learning and politeness will be the ruin of our 
 cause, nor have I ever met with any that maintained 
 
 * hii}. |). 36. 
 
 SO extravagant an opinion. But surely, Sir, a cause 
 may be ruined by learned and polite men, if, with 
 their other furniture, they have not religion and 
 prudence too : and I hardly conceive how a minis- 
 ter, who is possessed of both these, can be uncon- 
 cerned about the acceptance he meets with from 
 the populace, or can ever imagine that the dissent- 
 ing interest is generally to be supported in the 
 contempt or neglect of them. 
 
 I cannot believe, Sir, that a gentleman of your 
 good sense intended to teach us such a contempt. 
 Had religion, and the souls of men, been entirely 
 out of the question, and had you considered us 
 only as persons whose business it is to speak in 
 public, you well know that such a thought had been 
 directly contrary to the plainest principles of reason, 
 and the rules of those amongst the ancients, as well 
 as the moderns, who were the greatest masters in 
 that profession. You will readily allow, (what no 
 thinking man can dispute,) that a true, skilful, un- 
 popular orator, is a direct contradiction in terms. 
 And I question not. Sir, but that you could in a 
 few hours throw together whole pages of quotations, 
 from Aristotle, Quintilian, Longinus, and especi- 
 ally from Tully, (not to mention Rapin, Gisbert, 
 Fenelon, and Bishop Burnet,) which all speak the 
 same language. You know that Tully in particular 
 declares, not only " That f he desired his own elo- 
 quence might be approved by the people," but that 
 his friends might accommodate their discourse to 
 them ; and therefore says to Brutus, J " Speak to 
 me and to tlic people." And this he carries so far 
 as to say,§ '• That whatever the people approve, 
 must also be approved by the learned and judicious ; 
 and II that men of sense never differed from the 
 populace in their judgment of oratory." And that 
 to speak in a manner not adapted to their capacity, 
 and the common sense of mankind, is the greatest 
 fault an orator can commit.^ These were the senti- 
 ments of Tully on a subject peculiarly his own. 
 And few that have ever heard of Longinus, are 
 strangers to that celebrated passage, in which he 
 makes it the test of the true sublime, that strikes 
 periods of all tastes and educations, the meanest as 
 well as the greatest.** 
 
 But indeed, (as I hinted above,) the neces.sity of 
 an orator's accommodating himself to the taste of 
 the people, depends not on the authority of the 
 greatest writers, but on the apparent principles of 
 reason, obvious to common sense ; since without it 
 the ends of his undertaking cannot possibly be an- 
 
 + EloqiiPiitiam autem rncam POPUI.O prob.ire volim. Cir. Orafio- 
 Unas DOS multituriinis juilirio prnbari volcbamus ; POPIJI.AUI^ 
 enimest ilia facultas, et effec'tus eloqiientiac est audientium adprobatio. 
 Tusc, Disp. lib, ll.snbinit. 
 
 t Milii raiie el populo mi Brute dixorim. Ibid. 
 
 5 (Innd probat multitudo hoc idem doctis probandiim est. Ibid. 
 
 B —Niiiicpiam fiiit popiilo dim doctis intelliKcntibusqiie dissensio. 
 
 II III diccndi) vitium vel maximum est a vulgar! generc oratioiiis, at- 
 que a coiisnetudine communis seiisfis abhorrere. Cic. 
 
 *• Dion. cap. vi. ad fin. 
 
ON REVIVING THE DISSENTING INTEREST. 
 
 1113 
 
 swered, as the people will neither be instructed nor 
 persuaded by what he says. 
 
 Again, if the matter were to be considered merely 
 in a political view, and with regard to the support 
 of our interest, as a separate body of men, I can 
 imagine nothing more imprudent, in present circum- 
 stances at least, than a neglect of the populace : (by 
 which I mean all plain people of low education and 
 vulgar taste, who are strangers to the refinements of 
 learning and politeness :) it is certain they consti- 
 tute at least nine parts in ten of most of our congre- 
 gations, and arc generally the supports of the meet- 
 ings they belong to, by their subscriptions, as well 
 as their attendance. In boroughs (especially) seve- 
 ral of them have a vote for members of parliament, 
 and are so numerous, as to have it in their power 
 frequentiyto turn the balance, by throwing themselves 
 into one scale or the other. Now to speak plain- 
 ly, Sir, I apprehend it is chiefly this that makes us 
 considerable to many, who have no regard at all to 
 our religious principles. And to the bulk of man- 
 kind there is something in the very idea of a large 
 place, and a crowded auditory, which strikes the 
 thought, and secures a society from that contempt, 
 which might perhaps fall upon persons of the most 
 valuable characters amongst them, if they stood 
 alonie as the support of the interest, and appeared 
 in their assemblies but as a handful of men. 
 
 Now, Sir, as this is the case, as numbers make 
 our interest considerable, and those numbers are 
 principally to be found amongst the common people, 
 would you advise us ministers to neglect the peo- 
 ple ; or could you wish that any thing you have 
 written, should be interpreted as an encouragement 
 of such a neglect ? When we have lost our interest 
 in them, (as we must necessarily do, if we take no 
 care to preserve it,) I would fain know what must 
 become either of us or them. As for them, I ima- 
 gine, that many of them would grow indifferent to 
 all religion, and seldom appear amongst us, or in 
 any other places of divine worship ; and others of a 
 warmer and more resolute temper, would find out 
 ways of making us uneasy ; and if they could not 
 get rid of us any other way, would draw off to 
 neighbouring congregations, or form new societies, 
 and choose ministers agreeable to their own taste, 
 who might perhaps think it their prudence to main- 
 tain and inflame their resentments against those 
 they had left. Thus our common interest as dis- 
 .senters would moulder and crumble away, by our 
 frequent divisions and animosities. And we, who 
 by our contempt of the people, had been the occa- 
 sion of them, shall have the great pleasure of being 
 entertained with the echo of ourown voices, and the 
 delicacy of our discourses, in empty places, or 
 amidst a little circle of friends, till perhaps (like 
 some of our brethren) we are starved into a good 
 opinion of conformity : and in the mean time, shall 
 
 have the public honour of ruining the cause we 
 undertook to support. For the generality of people, 
 who never reason accurately, will readily conclude 
 it was ruined by us, if it sink under our care : 
 though you. Sir, will be so complaisant as to own, 
 it fell by the obstinacy and perverseness of a peo- 
 ple, " whose humour was too mean to be worthy 
 any one's study."* 
 
 But perhaps. Sir, you will tell me, that we need 
 not be apprehensive of being driven to such extre- 
 mities ; for though some of the lowest of our audi- 
 tors are lost, we shall gain over others to fill up 
 their places, in a manner much more agreeable to 
 ourselves, and more honourable to our cause in the 
 eyes of the world. " Many gentlemen have left us 
 because they were ashamed of our interest, and 
 nothing can recover them but the study of learning 
 and politeness. "t I assure you. Sir, I am an enemy 
 to neither; but heartily wish they may both be cul- 
 tivated, so far as is consistent with our being ac- 
 ceptable to the people (and I apprehend, as you 
 will afterwards perceive, they are both in a very 
 high degree consistent with it). But I imagine it 
 will never be worth our while, to neglect and dis- 
 please the people, in order to bring over these gen- 
 tlemen ; or to make other proselytes of their rank, 
 character, and taste. 
 
 I shall, perhaps, surprise you when I say, that I 
 am not much charmed with your proposal, allow- 
 ing it ever so practicable, and the prospect of suc- 
 cess ever so fair. You suppose the gentlemen 
 whom you describe, have not left us upon principles 
 of conscience, on apprehension of our being schis- 
 matics, &c. (for tlicn no alteration in the manner of 
 our preaching could bring them back) but merely 
 from a delicacy of taste, and because they were 
 ashamed to continue amongst .so unpolished a peo- 
 ple. You must then suppose, either that they acted 
 in direct opposition to the dictates of conscience, or 
 else, that they did not consult them at all in the 
 aflair, nor regarded any thing more than fashion or 
 amusement in the choice of the religious assemblies 
 with which they have joined. The former suppo- 
 sition charges them with an outrageous contempt 
 both of truth and of honour ; and the latter, with a 
 shameful mixture of pride and weakness, which 
 has little of the gentleman, and less of the Christian. 
 And I freely declare, that I think an honest me- 
 chanic, or day-labourer, who attends the meeting 
 from a religious principle, though perhaps it may 
 expose him to some ridicule amongst his neigh- 
 bours, and be in some measure detrimental to his 
 temporal affairs, (which is often the case,) is a much 
 more honourable and generous creature, and de- 
 serves much greater respect from a Christian 
 minister, than such a gentleman, with all his estate, 
 learning, and politeness. 
 
 • Inq. p. 34. + Inq. p. 32. 
 
1114 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 In the sifrlit of fJod, you will readily allow, that 
 it is so ; but perhaps, Sir, you will tell me, that I 
 am now considerinji; the matter in a politieal view. 
 It is lime to recollect it, and I ask your pardon for 
 this dis^ression. 
 
 I shall therefore speak more directly to the point 
 when I answer, witli all due submission, that I ap- 
 pieiiend liiis scheme of brin-jinn' back these {i^entle- 
 nien to our assemblies, is but wild and chimerical. 
 
 If their conformity entirely depended on the 
 delicacy of their taste, we could never expect to 
 recover tlicm, till we could entertain them with 
 more polite and elegant discourses, than those 
 which they hear in the churches they now frequent. 
 Now, Sir, whatever your complaisance may sugifest 
 in our favour, I have not the vanity to believe, that 
 if we and the established clergy were to try our 
 skill in the contest, we should generally exceed 
 them. At least, I see no such certain evidence of 
 our being superior to them here, as should en- 
 courage us to risk the whole of our cause upon 
 this attempt; as I imagine we should do, if we 
 ■were to neglect the people. 
 
 And further, I think there is the less reason for 
 making so dangerous an experiment, as it is very 
 apparent to me, that tliose who have left us, have 
 not been influenced merely by such a critical exact- 
 ness as you suppose. I know not any among them 
 of a more judicious and refined taste, than some 
 who still continue the ornaments and supports of 
 our assemblies : and it is undeniably evident, that 
 many who have quitted us, have acted on very dif- 
 ferent principles. Some have been inlluenced by 
 secular views, (in which they have not always been 
 disappointed,) and some by complaisance to their 
 friends, and particularly those who have married 
 into families of a different persuasion (which has 
 been a very fatal blow to our interest). Many 
 more, I fear, have forsaken us from a secret dislike 
 to strict piety, and with us have abandoned all 
 appearances of religion, and perhaps of conunon 
 decency and morality. And I question not. Sir, but 
 you very well know, that many others who have 
 broken off from us, and perhaps make the greatest 
 pretences to strength of thought, and politeness of 
 taste, are sunk as low as deism itself, (if not yet 
 lower,) and may probably enough reckon it matter 
 of boasting, that having thrown olf one fetter, they 
 have had greater advantage for throwing off' tiie 
 other; i. e. the faith of the Christian, after the 
 strictness of the dissenter. 
 
 And are these. Sir, tiie persons who are to be 
 brought back by our learning and address? Some 
 of them may, perhaps, now and then make an oc- 
 casional visit to our assemblies for their own amuse- 
 ment, as they frequent the theatre ; but surely they 
 can never be depended upon as the support of an 
 interest : nor could you on the whole think it pru- 
 
 dent for us to hazard the approbation and alfection 
 of our people, in a view of making ourselves agree- 
 able to them. 
 
 liut rchyion furnishes us with many consider- 
 ations to the present purpose, of much greater im- 
 portance than any which could arise merely from 
 prudential views. Surely there is a dignity and a 
 glory in every rational and immortal soul, which 
 must recommend it to tlie regard of tlic wise and 
 the good, though it may be destitute of the orna- 
 ments of education, or splendid circumstances in 
 life. Let us think of it in its lowest ebb of fortune, 
 or even of character, as still the ofl'si)ring and image 
 of the great Father of spirits, and as tlie ]>urcliase 
 of redeeming blood: let us consider what an in- 
 lluence its temper and conduct may have at least 
 on the happiness of some little circle of human 
 creatures, with whom Providence has linked it in 
 kindred, in friendship, or in interest ; and espe- 
 cially, let us consider what it may become in the 
 gradual brightenings and improvements of the eter- 
 nal state : let us but seriously dwell on such redec- 
 tions as these, (too obvious to be missed, yet too 
 important to be forgot,) and we shall find a thou- 
 sand arguments concurring to inspire us with a sort 
 of paternal tenderness for the souls of the meanest 
 of our people. This will teach us to bear with their 
 prejudices, to accommodate ourselves to their weak- 
 ness ; and to consider it as a mixture of impiety 
 and cruelty, to neglect numbers of them, out of 
 complaisance to the taste of a few, who are perhaps 
 some of them but occasional visitants, and whom 
 we judge by their habits, rather than by any per- 
 sonal acquaintance, to be a part of the polite world. 
 
 Did I adect to throw together all that might be 
 said on this subject, I might both illustrate and 
 confirm what I have already written, by showing at 
 large that Christianity is a religion originally calcu- 
 lated for the plainer part of mankind, by that God 
 who has chosen the foolish things of the world to 
 confound the wise, and the weak things of the 
 world to confound the things which are mighty; 
 and, consequently, that a neglect and contempt of 
 the common people is far from being the spirit of 
 the gospel. I might add many remarks to this 
 purpose on the preaching and conduct of St. Paul, 
 and fill whole pages with quotations from him and 
 the rest of the apostles, and many more from some 
 of the most ancient and celebrated fathers of the 
 church. But I do not think it necessary for the 
 support of my argument, and I am persuaded that 
 you. Sir, in particular, have no need of being 
 taught these things from me. 
 
 Permit me only to add, (what you must fre- 
 quently have observed,) that our Lord Jesus Christ 
 is a most amiable and wonderful example of a 
 plain, familiar, and popular preacher. When we 
 come to peruse those divine discourses, which ex- 
 
ON REVIVING THE DISSENTING INTEREST. 
 
 1115 
 
 toiled a confession from his very enemies that lie 
 spake as never man spake, we find neither a long 
 train of abstract reasonings, nor a succession of 
 laboured periods, adorned with an artificial exact- 
 ness ; but the most solid and important sense, 
 delivered in an easy and natural way, illustrated by 
 similes taken from the most common objects in 
 life, and enforced with lively figures, and the 
 strongest energy of expression ; which is well con- 
 sistent with all the former. So that, upon the 
 whole, it was most happily calculated, at once to 
 instruct the most ignorant, and to awaken the most 
 negligent, hearer. I cannot but wish that some 
 judicious writer would attempt to set this part of 
 our Lord's character in a clearer and a more particu- 
 lar light ; and would show us how the whole of his 
 conduct, as well as the manner of his address, was 
 calculated to promote his usefulness under the 
 character of a preacher of righteousness. I hope 
 such an essay might be very serviceable to those of 
 us who have the honour to succeed him in that part 
 of his work ; and I persuade myself that it would 
 furnish us with a variety of beautiful remarks on 
 many passages in the evangelical historians, which 
 are not to be found in the most celebrated com- 
 mentators. 
 
 You will excuse me. Sir, for having insisted so 
 largely on the necessity of endeavouring to render 
 ourselves agreeable to our people ; because I am 
 fully persuaded that it is of great importance to the 
 support and revival of the dissenting interest. I 
 hope you already apprehend, that I intend notiiing 
 in this advice which is below the pursuit of the 
 most elevated genius, or the most generous temper; 
 nothing inconsistent with the politeness of tiie gen- 
 tleman and the scholar, or the dignity of the Chris- 
 tian and the minister. You cannot imagine that I 
 would recommend a popularity raised by (fuirks 
 and jingles, or founded on all'ected tones, or ridicu- 
 lous grimaces; and much less on an attempt to 
 inflame the passions of mankind about triMing con- 
 troversies, and the peculiar unscriptural paraphrases 
 of a party. Such a popularity as this is almost the 
 only thing that is more despicable, than the inso- 
 lent pride of despising the people. 
 
 If any of my younger bretliren were to inquire 
 how another popularity, of a far more honourable 
 kind, is to be pursued and secured, I answer, that 
 their own converse and observation on the world, 
 must furnish them with the most valuable instruc- 
 tions on this head. And though some of their par- 
 ticular remarks may differ, according to the various 
 places and circumstances in which they arc made ; 
 yet I apprehend there are many things of con.sider- 
 able importance, in which they will all agree. As 
 for instance : 
 
 They will quickly see that the generality of the 
 dissenters, who appear to be persons of serious 
 
 piety, have been deeply impressed with the pecu- 
 liarities of the gospel scheme. They have felt the 
 divine energy of those important doctrines, to 
 awaken, and revive, and enlarge the soul ; and, 
 therefore, they will have a peculiar relish for dis- 
 courses upon them. So that, if a man should gene- 
 rally confine himself to subjects of natural religion, 
 and moral virtue, and seldom fix on the doctrines 
 of Christ, and the Spirit, and then perhaps treat 
 them with such caution, that he might seem rather 
 to be making concessions to an adversary, than 
 giving vent to the fulness of his heart on its darling 
 subject, he would soon find, that all the penetration 
 and eloquence of an angel, could not make him 
 universally agreeable to our assemblies. 
 
 Many of our people have passed through a va- 
 riety of exercises in their minds, relating to the 
 great concern of eternal salvation. And they ap- 
 prehend that the Scripture teaches us to ascribe 
 this combat to the agency of Satan, and the cor- 
 ruptions of our own heart, on the one hand, and the 
 operations of the Holy Spirit of God on the other. 
 It is therefore very agreeable to them, to hear these 
 experimental subjects handled with seriousness and 
 tenderness. It raises their veneration for such a 
 minister, as for one who has himself tasted of the 
 grace of God, and encourages their confidence in 
 him, and their expectations of improving by his 
 labours. On the other hand, it grieves them when 
 these subjects are much neglected, and gives them 
 the most formidable suspicions if one word be 
 dropt which seems to pour contempt upon them, 
 as if they were all fancy and enthusiasm ; (with 
 which, it must be granted, they are sometimes 
 mixed). 
 
 The greater part of most dissenting congregations 
 consisting (as we before observed) of plain people, 
 who have not enjoyed the advantages of a learned 
 education, nor had leisure for improvements by 
 after-study, it is apparently necessary that a man 
 should speak plainly to them, if he desire they 
 should understand and approve what he says. And 
 as for those that are truly religious, they attend on 
 public worship, not that they may be amused with 
 a form or sound, nor entertained with some new 
 and curious speculation ; but that their hearts may 
 be enlarged as in the presence of God, that they 
 may be powerfully afiected with those great things 
 of religion, which they already know and believe, 
 that so their conduct may be suitably influenced 
 by them. And to this purpose they desire that their 
 ministers may speak as if they were in earnest, in a 
 lively and pathetic, as well as a clear and intelli- 
 gible, manner. 
 
 Such is the taste of the generality of the dissen- 
 ters ; a taste which I apiireliend they will still 
 retain, whatever attempts may be made to alter it. 
 And I must take the liberty to say, that I conceive 
 
 I 
 
1116 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 this turn of tlioiiiiht in the people lo be the great 
 support of our interest, and not the little scruples 
 which you hint at in the 34th page of your let- 
 ter, nor even those rational and generous princi- 
 ples of liberty, which you so clearly propose, and 
 so strenuously assert. And I cannot but be- 
 lieve, tliat if the established clergy, and the dis- 
 senting ministers in general, were mutually to ex- 
 change their strain of preaching and their manner 
 of living but for one year, it would be the ruin of 
 our cause, even though there should be no alteration 
 in the constitution and discipline of the church of 
 England. However you might fare at London, or 
 in some very singular cases elsewhere, I can hardly 
 imagine that there would ])c dissenters enough left 
 in some considerable counties, to fill one of our 
 largest meeting-places. 
 
 We have then advanced thus far ; that he who 
 would be generally agreeable to dissenters, must be 
 an evangelical, an experimental, a plain, and an 
 affectionate preacher. Now I must do our common 
 people the justice to own, that when these points 
 are secured, they are not very delicate in their de- 
 mands, with regard to the forms of a discourse. 
 They will not in such a case be very much dis- 
 gusted, though there be no regular chain of reason- 
 ing, no remarkable propriety of thought or of 
 expression, no elegance of language, and but little 
 decency of address. The want of all these is for- 
 given, to what they apprehend of much greater 
 importance. Yet, Sir, I would not from hence 
 infer, that these things are to be neglected ; on the 
 contrary, I apprehend it is absolutely necessary, 
 that tliey should be diligently attended to, in o der 
 to obtain that universal popularity, which I think 
 so desirable for the sake of more extensive useful- 
 ness. A man of a good taste will certainly take 
 some care about them. It is what he owes to him- 
 self, and to the politer part of his audience, whom 
 he will never be willing to lose in the crowd : and 
 he need not fear that a prudent regard to them will 
 spoil his acceptance with the people. Few of them 
 like a discourse the worse for being thoroughly 
 good ; and the accomplished orator will find, per- 
 haps to his surprise, that they will not only know 
 and feel the important truths of religion, in the 
 most agreeable dress he can give them ; but that they 
 will even applaud the order and regularity of his 
 composures, the beauty of his language, and the 
 gracefulness of his delivery, at the same time that 
 they have the candour not to complain of the indi- 
 gested rovings, the unnatural transports, and the 
 awkward distortions of the pious, well-meaning, 
 but injudicious preacher. For human nature is so 
 formed, that some manners of thinking and speak- 
 ing are universally agreeable and delightful. It is 
 the perfection of eloquence to be master of these, 
 and should, I think, be the care of every one that 
 
 speaks in public, to pursue them as far as genius 
 and opportunity will allow.* 
 
 The man who forms himself upon such views as 
 these, if he be not remarkably deficient in natural 
 capacities, will probably be popular amongst the 
 dissenters as a preacher; but a thinking man will 
 easily perceive, this is not the only character under 
 which a minister is considered. Hia people will 
 naturally and reasonably expect a conduct answer- 
 able to his public discourses ; and without it, he 
 cannot be thoroughly agreeable to them. They 
 will take it for granted, that a man so well ac- 
 quainted with divine truths, and one that seems to 
 be so deeply affected with them, should be regular 
 and exemplary in the whole of his behaviour, and 
 free from the taint of vice, or of folly, in any re- 
 markable degree. They will expect that he should 
 be far from being a slave to secular interest, or to 
 the little trilles of food, dress, or domestic accom- 
 modation ; and that he should avoid every thing 
 haughty and overbearing, or peevish and fretful, in 
 his daily converse. They will conclude, that a de- 
 sire of doing good to souls, will make him easy of 
 access to those who apply to him for advice, with 
 regard to their spiritual concernments ; and that it 
 will likewise dispose him at proper times to visit 
 all the people of his charge, the poor as well as the 
 rich ; and that not only under the character of a 
 friend, but of a minister, in a direct view to their 
 spiritual edification. And if a man desire the affec- 
 tions of his people, he must not disappoint such 
 expectations as these. 
 
 The tenderness with which parents interest them- 
 selves in the concerns of their children, and the 
 earnest desire that all religious parents must neces- 
 sarily have, that theirs may be a seed to serve the 
 Lord, will engage them very kindly to accept our 
 care, in attempting to bring them under early im- 
 pressions of serious piety. Catechising has there- 
 fore been generally found a very popular, as well 
 as a very useful, practice. And here I think it is 
 much to be wished that our labour may extend to 
 the youth, as well as to little children; that in a 
 familiar way they may be methodically acquainted 
 with the principles of natural religion, and then with 
 the evidences of the truth of Christianity, and with 
 the nature of it, as it is exhibited in the New Tes- 
 tament ; both w ith regard to the privileges and the 
 duties of Christians. As this might be a means 
 of filling our churches with a considerable number 
 of rational, catholic, and pious communicants, from 
 whom considerable usefulness might in time be ex- 
 pected, so it would greatly oblige their religious 
 parents, and lay a foundation for a growing friend- 
 ship between us, and our catechumens, in the 
 advance of life. 
 
 * Tliis is that regard to the SEN8US COMMUNIS, which Tully thinkB 
 
 so necess.Try. 
 
ON REVIVING THE DISSENTING INTEREST. 
 
 1117 
 
 I once thought to have insisted more largely on 
 these hints, but am happily prevented by the pub- 
 lication of Mr. Some's sermon, on the methods to 
 be taken by ministers for the revival of religion. 
 He has fully spoken ray sentiments, with regard to 
 many of those articles on which I have only glanced. 
 I persuade myself, Sir, you will read it with a great 
 deal of pleasure ; for (so far as I can judge) this 
 sermon is almost as agreeable an example of that 
 preaching, as his life is of that conduct, which he 
 recommends. I am confident that a man of your 
 good sense must necessarily approve the scheme 
 which I have briefly laid down, and which is there 
 largely considered and recommended. Were you 
 to choose a pastor for yourself, I doubt not but you 
 would rejoice in such a one; and you would pro- 
 bably have the hearty concurrence of the weakest 
 and most illiterate of your pious neighbours. My 
 younger brethren (for whom alone I am now pre- 
 suming to write) can have no reason to complain, 
 that I have assigned them either a mean or a severe 
 task. I heartily desire to be their companion in all 
 the most laborious and self-denying parts of it ; 
 and I persuade myself, that we shall find it, on the 
 whole, as delightful as honourable, and as advan- 
 tageous to ourselves as it will be serviceable to the 
 public interest. 
 
 There seems to be but one material objection 
 against all this ; and it is an objection, in which I 
 doubt not but your own thoughts have all prevent- 
 ed me. It may perhaps be pleaded, that we have 
 a sort of people amongst us, whose approbation and 
 esteem cannot be obtained by such honourable 
 methods as I proposed. For they, whom we call 
 the rigidly orthodox, are so devoted to a peculiar 
 set of human phrases, which have been introduced 
 into the explication of some important doctrines, 
 that they will hardly entertain a favourable thought 
 of any who scruple the use of them, or who do not 
 seem to value them as highly as they, though they 
 may, on all other accounts, be ever so considerable. 
 
 You, Sir, hint at* a very expeditious remedy for 
 uneasiness arising from this quarter; that persons 
 of generous and bigoted sentiments should meet 
 in different places. In London it is certainly prac- 
 ticable, and may perhaps be most expedient ; but 
 to attempt any such separation in the country, 
 would be the utter ruin of rnany of our societies, 
 which now make some considerable appearance. 
 But besides my regard to the ministers and societies 
 to which they are related, I must confess, I have 
 too much tenderness for the persons themselves, to 
 be willing entirely to give them up. I have been inti- 
 mately acquainted with those who have been accused, 
 and perhaps not unjustly, of this unhappy attach- 
 ment to human phrases, and nicety in controversial 
 points ; and I must do many of them the justice to 
 
 » Page 44. 
 
 own, that I have found very excellent qualities 
 mingled with this excess of zeal, (which must 
 methinks appear pardonable in them, when we 
 consider how artificially it has been infused ; and 
 how innocently they have received and retained it, 
 from a real principle of conscience to God). But, 
 indulging them in this one article, several of them 
 will appear to be persons of so much humility and 
 piety, of so much integrity and generosity, of so 
 much activity and zeal for the common interest, 
 that separate from all views to private advantage 
 or reputation, one would heartily wish to do all he 
 honestly can, to remove those prejudices, which 
 give them so much uneasiness, and impair the 
 lustre of so many virtues and graces. And if at 
 the same time we can secure their esteem and 
 friendship, it may have such an influence, both on 
 our own comfort and usefulness in life, that it must 
 be great ignorance or pride to despise it. 
 
 You will readily grant, Sir, that the thing is in 
 itself desirable : the great question is, how it may 
 be effected .' And here I will venture to say freely, 
 that I apprehend bigotry of all kinds to be a for- 
 tress, which may be attacked by sap more success- 
 fully than by storm. It is evident that we have 
 most of us something of the humour of children, 
 that grasp a thing so much the more eagerly, when 
 an attempt is made to wrest it out of their hands 
 by violence ; and yet perhaps will drop it them- 
 selves in a few minutes, if you can but divert their 
 attention to something else. 
 
 From such a view of things, I apprehend, we are 
 to judge of the most proper methods of dealing 
 with those, whose case is now under consideration. 
 You, Sir, may tell them again and again, with your 
 natural coolness and moderation,! That it would 
 be an instance of their modesty to resign their 
 pleasures to the general notions and judgment — 
 that instead of assuming the characters of judges 
 and censors, they should put on the humble temper 
 of learners — and receive the truth without being 
 jealous of heresy in our younger preachers. — And 
 at the same time that you are thus giving your 
 advice, you may give your reasons, as clearly and 
 handsomely as you have given them for noncon- 
 formity in this inquiry : yet, after all, you will pro- 
 bably find, that the Civium ardor prava juben- 
 TiuM will out-noise the voice of the charmer, 
 charming ever so wisely. And should I exert my- 
 self with greater warmth and eagerness, should I 
 grow a bigot in the defence of Catholicism, and 
 load those of diff'erent sentiments with reproaches, 
 because they have profited no better by so many 
 solid arguments ; I should indeed pay a very great 
 compliment to them, in supposing them capable of 
 knowing and admitting truth, under so disagree- 
 able a disguise ; but it would be at the expense of 
 
 + Inquiry, page .31—37. 
 
IMS 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 my own cliaractcr and case, and I should run the 
 risk of bciiin severely scorched by that llame, 
 uUich I pretended to extinguish, by pouring on 
 oil. 
 
 I cannot but think it niucii more advisable, ac- 
 cording; to the ai)ostle's maxim of becoming all 
 things to all men, to study to accommodate our- 
 selves in this reapcct, as well as in others, to the 
 inlirmities of our hearers, as far as with a safe con- 
 science we may. If we can put a tolerably good 
 sense on any of their favourite phrases, it would 
 surely be a most unreasonable stillness and per- 
 verseness of temper, to avoid it merely because 
 they admire it. Or if we cannot go so far, we may 
 at least lay aside any darling phrases of our own, 
 which we know will be oH'ensive to them. (For if 
 the Bible be a complete rule, our human forms are 
 no more necessary than theirs.) Christians as such 
 profess a reverence for the Scripture, and many of 
 these Christians have a distinguishing regard to it, 
 as they have felt its divine energy on their souls. 
 Now, Sir, with submission to the better judgment 
 of my brethren, I think we, who are ministers, 
 should take them by the hand, and siiould labour 
 to discover to them, more and more, tiie beauty and 
 fulness of tlie word of God, not only with regard 
 to this or that particular doctrine, but to the whole 
 system of truth and duty contained in it. It is a 
 subject on which we might speak and they would 
 hear with pleasure; and it would not only divert 
 their attention and their zeal from other things, 
 which might give uneasiness, but would have a 
 direct tendency to enlarge their views, and sweeten 
 their tempers, beyond all our encomiums on liberty 
 and Catholicism, or our satires on bigotry and im- 
 position. 
 
 I likewise apprehend, that a regard to what was 
 said under the former heads, will further conduce 
 to this happy end. When these exact people hear 
 us preaching in a truly spiritual and experimental 
 strain, and at the same time in such a rational and 
 graceful manner, as may set our discourses above 
 contempt, and make them agreeable to the younger 
 and politer part of our auditory, as well as to others ; 
 they w ill quickly see that it is not for their own in- 
 terest, or that of their children, to drive us away 
 with a rigorous severity. And therefore, instead of 
 studying to find us heretics, they will rather put 
 the most favourable sense on ambiguous expressions, 
 and labour to believe us as orthodox as they can : 
 or, if they suspect us to be in the dark as to some 
 particulars, yet they will charitably hope, that age 
 and experience will perfect what is wanting ; and 
 that God will reveal it to us in his own time. With 
 these views tbey will cheerfully commit themselves 
 to our ministerial care, if Providence seems to open 
 a way for our settlement amongst them. And when 
 they find that they are handsomely treated by us, 
 
 that no direct attack is made upon their darling 
 notions ; but that the great concerns of practical 
 religion (as dear to them as to any people upon 
 earth) are plainly and faithfully pursued by us, 
 both in public and private, (to the refreshment of 
 their own souls, and to the evident advantage of 
 many others,) they will contract a tender, growing 
 allcction for us : and thus their bigotry will gra- 
 dually wear away, till perhaps they come at last 
 joyfully to embrace those more generous notions, 
 from which they would at first have started back 
 with horror. 
 
 Thus we may, after the example of our great 
 Master, teach our followers, as they are able to bear 
 it : and by this moderation, may be instrumental in 
 healing the breaches which we profess to lament, 
 in rescuing many an excellent soul from a painful 
 and dishonourable bondage; and in spreading a 
 generous, candid. Christian spirit, which will be 
 the glory and happiness of our interest in general, 
 as well as of the particular societies under our care. 
 And in the mean time another generation will be 
 rising, whom we may hope to form, in a manner 
 agreeable to our own sentiments, who may transmit 
 to remote ages those united principles of piety 
 and Catholicism which they have happily learnt 
 from us. 
 
 I cannot but think, that such rational and noble 
 prospects may encourage us to .submit to some 
 restraints, which we should not otherwise have 
 chose. But if, after all, we inflexibly insist on 
 " *as unbounded a liberty of speaking our senti- 
 ments in public, as of forming them in private," or, 
 in the language of Solomon, of uttering all our 
 mind, I tliinkwe shall dearly purchase the pleasure 
 of hearing ourselves talk, on a subject on which we 
 can do little more, than echo back a part of what 
 has been so copiously and judiciously written, and 
 so frequently repeated by others. The wiser part 
 of mankind will look upon us as forward heirs, who 
 spend our estate of reputation and importance in 
 life, before we come to it ; and upon the whole, we 
 shall notonly exceedinglyinjure ourselves in private 
 life, which is comparatively but a trifle, but shall 
 impair our future usefulness, and even wound the 
 darling cause of liberty, to which we are so ready to 
 sacrifice all. For I seriously declare, that if I 
 could be so wicked as to form a design against it, 
 and so base as to prosecute it by clandestine and 
 hypocritical methods, I would only set myself to 
 declaim in its favour, with inaprudent zeal, and 
 unbounded fury. 
 
 You have now, Sir, all that I think proper to say, 
 at present, concerning the methods by which I ap- 
 prehend those of us, who are employed in the 
 ministry, may most effectually contribute to the 
 revival of the dissenting interest. I can assure 
 
 ♦ Page 37. 
 
ON REVIVING THE DISSENTING INTEREST. 
 
 U19 
 
 you, they are not the reveries of niy own closet, but 
 observations wliicli I have drawn from life, as occa- 
 sions have occurred in conversing with a variety of 
 persons of different stations, relishes, and characters. 
 I have the better opinion of many of them, as I know 
 that they are thoroughly agreeable to the sentiments 
 and conduct of some of the most considerable per- 
 sons of all denominations amongst us, both in town 
 and country ; whose friendship is the honour and 
 pleasure of my life. I am particularly confirmed 
 in this way of thinking, by observing the success 
 which such measures have had in the congregations 
 of my fathers and brethren in these parts. For I 
 know, that in many of them, the number of dissen- 
 ters is greatly increased within these twenty years ; 
 and the interest continues so to flourish, that I am 
 confident some of our honest people, who converse 
 only in their own neighbourhood, will be surprised 
 to hear of an inquiry into the causes of its decay. 
 
 If what I have written appear reasonable to you. 
 Sir, I cannot but wish that you, and other gentle- 
 men of the laity, who are heartily concerned for our 
 interest, would endeavour to cultivate such senti- 
 ments as these in the minds of young ministers of 
 your acquaintance. We are naturally very desirous 
 of being known to you, and singled out as the object 
 of your regard. Whereas we early begin to look 
 with a comparative contempt upon the meaner sort 
 of people, as an ignoble herd — Fruijes consumere 
 nati. Whilst engaged in our preparatory studies, 
 we are indeed so generous, as to give up one another 
 to the vulgar; but we have each of us the penetra- 
 tion to discover, that there is something uncommon 
 in our dear selves, by wliich nature seems to have 
 intended us to be (as we absurdly enough express 
 it) orators for the polite. These arrogant and per- 
 nicious sentiments we sometimes carry along with 
 us, from the academy to the pulpit ; where, perhaps, 
 •we make our first appearance infinitely solicitous 
 about every trifling circumslance of a discourse, yet 
 negligent of that which should be the soul of it. 
 And if the people are not as much charmed with it 
 as ourselves, we have then an evident demonstration 
 of their incorrigible stupidity; and so resentment 
 concurs with pride and ambition, to set us at the 
 remotest distance from those, who ought to be the 
 objects of our tenderest regards. 
 
 If an elder minister have so much compassion 
 and generosity, as to deal freely with us upon 
 these heads, and give such advice as circumstances 
 require, it is great odds but we find some excuse 
 for neglecting what he says.—" He is ignorant and 
 unpolitc; or perhaps intoxicated with his own po- 
 pularity, and means his counsels to us as encomiums 
 upon himself."— Or if neither of these will do, some 
 other artifice mu.st be found out, to fix the blame 
 any where rather than at home. And if in the midst 
 of a thousand mortifications we can but find out 
 
 one gentleman of fortune, sense, and learning, that 
 admires us, we are happy. A single diamond 
 is worth more than a whole load of pebbles ; and 
 we perhaps adapt, with vast satisfaction, the cele- 
 brated words of Arbuscula in Horace, * 
 
 Men' moveat cimex Pantilius, ^-c. 
 
 without considering that what was highly proper 
 in the mouth of a player, and a poet, would be ex- 
 tremely absurd in a heathen, and much more in a 
 Christian, orator. 
 
 Now, Sir, what I intend by all this, is to show 
 that you gentlemen may have it in your power to do 
 a great deal to correct tkese mistaken notions. If 
 we plainly see that you regard us, not merely ac- 
 cording to the manner in which our performances 
 are accommodated to your own private taste, but 
 according to our desire and capacity of being use- 
 ful to the public interest, we shall perhaps be ta.ught 
 to place our point of honour right; and when that 
 is once done, a moderate degree of genius, applica- 
 tion, and prudence, may be sufficient, by the bless- 
 ing of God, to secure the rest. 
 
 I would here. Sir, have ended my letter, but the 
 hints you give in the conclusion of yours concern- 
 ing Academical Education, lead me to add a few 
 words on that head. I would be far from the inso- 
 lence of pretending to teach tutors ; but I apprehend 
 that if my former principles be allowed, it will fol- 
 low, by the easiest consequence in the world, that 
 it is a very important part of their business, to form 
 their pupils to a regard for the people, and to a 
 manner of preaching, and of converse, which may 
 be agreeable to them. 
 
 There is hardly any thing which should be more 
 discouraged in a young student, than such a mis- 
 taken haughty way of thinking, as I so freely de- 
 scribed a little above, especially when it discovers 
 itself in a petulant inclination to employ their talent 
 at satire, in ridiculing the infirmities of i)lain serious 
 Christians, or the labours of those ministers, who 
 are willing to condescend to the meanest capacities 
 that they may be wise to win souls. 
 
 A young man of sense will easily enter into such 
 plain reasonings as I have offered in the beginning 
 of this letter, and be convinced by them, that if he 
 ever appear under the character of a dissenting 
 minister, he must not neglect the people. But it is 
 greatly to be desired, that our students niay be en- 
 gaged to regard them, not merely from political, but 
 religious, views. 
 
 It is therefore, no doubt, the care of every pious 
 tutor amongst us, (and may God make it a more 
 constant and successful care,) to possess his pupils, 
 who are designed for the ministry, with a deep and 
 early sense of the importance of the gospel scheme, 
 for the recovery of man from the ruins of the apos- 
 
 * Hor. Sat. Lib. I. x. v. 7W, &c. 
 
11-20 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 lasy, and his restoration to God and happiness by 
 a mediator. — To show (as it may easily be sliown) 
 that this lias been the great end of the divine coun- 
 sels, with regard to wliich, the harmony of nature in 
 the low er world has been supported, and the various 
 economies of Providence disposed :— To point out 
 the Son of God descending from heaven in favour 
 of lliis design, pursuing it by liumble condescensions 
 to the low'cst of the people, and unwearied labours 
 amongst them ; and at last, establisliing it by ago- 
 nies and death : — To sliow them the apostles taking 
 up their Master's cause, prosecuting it v^'ith unwea- 
 ried vigour and resolution, and sacrilicing to it their 
 ease, their reputation, their liberty, and tlieir lives : 
 — To trace out those generous emotions of soul, 
 which still live and breathe in their immortal 
 writings : — And then (when their minds are warmed 
 with such a survey) to apply to the students them- 
 selves, as persons designed by Providence to engage 
 in the same work, to support and carry on the same 
 interests, who therefore must be acted by the same 
 views, and imbibe the same spirit. 
 
 Something of tliis kind is, I doubt not, attended 
 to ; and I must take the liberty to say, that I think 
 these the most important lectures a tutor can read. 
 You cannot but see, Sir, that by the blessing of 
 God, such addresses must have an apparent ten- 
 dency to fill the mind with sublime and elevated 
 views, and to make a man feel and own too, (tliough 
 it may appear something unpolite,) that the salva- 
 tion of one soul is of infinitely greater importance, 
 than charming a thousand splendid assemblies with 
 the most elegant discourses that were ever delivered. 
 A young minister under these impressions, will 
 come out to his public work naturally disposed to 
 care for the state of his people ; and such sincere 
 zeal and tenderness will form him to a popular 
 address, abundantly sooner, and more happily, than 
 the most judicious rules which it is possible to 
 dictate. 
 
 As examples are the best illustration of precepts, 
 it must certainly be a great advantage to pupils to 
 hear such preaching, and see such pastoral care, as 
 is reeonnnended to them in the lecture-room. A 
 prudent man, who is concerned in the education of 
 young ministers, will be particularly careful to 
 avoid those faults in preaching, vvhich they are in 
 the greatest danger of falling into ; and particu- 
 larly too abstracted a train of reasoning, and too 
 great a care about the little ornaments of speech, 
 when addressing to a common auditory. And if 
 (where other circumstances may allow it) he some- 
 times engage the attendance of senior pupils in his 
 pastoral visits, and introduce them to the acquaint- 
 ance and freedom of some serious Christians in the 
 society, it may be much for their improvement. A 
 more intimate knowledge of their hidden worth, 
 and perhaps of those noble traces of natural genius, 
 
 which they might discover amongst some of a very 
 low education, would something increase their 
 esteem for the populace in general. And from their 
 observations on books and sermons, and their 
 accounts of the various exercises of their minds, 
 (where our politer hearers are generally more re- 
 served,) a man may best learn how they are to be 
 addressed, and form himself to that experimental 
 strain, on which so much of his acceptance and 
 usefulness amongst us will depend. 
 
 If you apprehend, Sir, that such a course will 
 make them preachers for the vulgar, and for them 
 only ; I think it sufficient to answer, that I entirely 
 agree with you in what you say of the great advan- 
 tages of an intimate acquaintance with the learned 
 languages, and the classical writers both of the 
 Romans and Greeks. I heartily wish our students 
 may always be well furnished with it before they 
 leave the schools, and think it highly proper it 
 should be carried on through the whole of their 
 academical course. And I cannot imagine, that a 
 man of tolerable sense, who is every day convers- 
 ing with some of the finest writers of antiquity, and 
 who is (as most of our students are) a little exer- 
 cised in the mathematical sciences, (to teach him 
 attention of thought, and strength, and perspicuity 
 of reasoning,) will be in great danger of saying any 
 thing remarkably impertinent, or contemptibly low. 
 
 As for being masters of our own language, it is a 
 point which I think should be thoroughly laboured 
 from the very beginning of their education. They 
 should to be sure make themselves familiarly ac- 
 quainted with those writers, who are allowed to be 
 the standards of it, and should frequently be trans- 
 lating and composing. And if this be not only 
 practised at school, but continued through four or 
 five years of academical education, they will have 
 formed a habit of expressing themselves gracefully, 
 or at least tolerably well: so that in their ordinary 
 composures, when tliey have digested their materials, 
 and ranged their thoughts, they will often find 
 proper, expressive, and elegant words, flowing in 
 faster than they can write them. 
 
 And as composition is far from being the only 
 business of an orator ; so I heartily wish, that not 
 only tutors, but schoolmasters, (whose character and 
 conduct, by the way, is of vast importance to our 
 interest,) would make a very serious business of 
 teaching lads, who are designed for the ministry, to 
 read well, and to pronounce properly and hand- 
 somely. Tiuis an early remedy would be provided 
 on the one hand, against those unnatural tones and 
 gestures, which (as you well observe*) are a grand 
 cause of our reproach and contempt ; and on the 
 other, against that cold insensible air, which some- 
 times, amongst strangers at least, affects even the 
 moral character of the preacher. 
 
 * Inquiry, page 43. 
 
ON REVIVING THE DISSENTING INTEREST. 
 
 1121 
 
 I think some care should be taken, both at the 
 school and the academy, to engage students to a 
 genteel and complaisant behaviour ; not only as 
 what is apparently conducive to their mutual ease 
 and pleasure, and the convenience of the family 
 where they are ; but as what may render them more 
 agreeable and useful in life, to persons of superior 
 rank, and even to the populace themselves. For a 
 well-bred man knows how to condescend in the 
 most obliging way ; and the common people (such 
 is either their good sense or their humour) are 
 peculiarly pleased with the visits and converse of 
 those who they know may be welcome to greater 
 company. 
 
 And now, Sir, I have done with my subject, and 
 must conclude, with assuring you, that it is not the 
 design of one line which I have written, merely to 
 prove that you are mistaken in any thing that you 
 I have asserted ; and therefore I have purposely 
 avoided many citations from your letter, which 
 might easily have been connected with what I have 
 
 said. You will infer from what you have read, 
 that I differ from you in some other particulars, 
 which are not mentioned, but they apparently de- 
 pend on what I have debated at large ; and I chose 
 to omit them, not only because my letter is already 
 longer than I intended, but from a general observa- 
 tion which I have had frequent occasion to make ; 
 that if a man desires to do good by wliat he says, 
 he must oppose and contradict as little as possible. 
 If I am mistaken in what I have advanced, I shall 
 be heartily thankful for better information ; and, if 
 it come from you, it will be peculiarly agreeable, 
 as I shall have nothing to fear from your reproaches, 
 and much to hope from your arguments. 
 
 I am. Sir, 
 Your most humble servant, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 This was printed ia the year 1729, being the first piece the 
 Doctor published. 
 
 4 C 
 
 I 
 
TTTREE LETTERS 
 
 TO 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF A LATE PAMPHLET, 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
 CHRISTIANITY NOT FOUNDED ON ARGUMENT, &c. 
 
 LETTER 1. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 When I consider the strain and purport of your 
 late discourse, I am lieartily sorry that I was so 
 long a stranjfcr to it. A montli lias hardly passed, 
 since it first fell into niy hands. They who know 
 niy circumstances in life, and the variety of business 
 in which I am continually engaged, will not wonder 
 that I missed it so long. Nor should I have read it 
 now, had it not been mentioned to me by some 
 friends, for whose judgment I have a very high re- 
 gard, as a performance which had a very ill aspect 
 on Christianity, and which was executed with much 
 more spirit and address, than is to be found in 
 most of the attacks which have been lately made 
 upon it. 
 
 I have now, Sir, perused it with attention ; and 
 various as my cares and labours are, I think it of 
 such importance, that I ought to lay before you, 
 and the world, the result of my reflections upon it. 
 
 The character you have assumed of a most zealous 
 Advocate for Christitmity , seems so ill to agree with 
 the purport of your reasonings, that I apprehend 
 most of our readers will esteem it a bad compliment 
 paid to your understanding, if I were to think of 
 that character otherwise than as a mask worn for 
 pleasantry, rather than the design of your pamphlet, 
 with which I am concerned. Were you indeed the 
 warm Christian you personate, I could not behold 
 the wounds of religion with indilferenee, merely 
 because they w ere received in the house of a friend : 
 nor would I consent to demolish the walls of a 
 fortress, on the strength of which my life, and even 
 the safety of my country, depended, though the 
 worthiest man upon earth should, in a fit of lunacy, 
 undertake to persuade me, that it was the most 
 
 effectual method to engage the miraculous protec- 
 tion of an Almighty arm. That those efforts which, 
 in the name of the Lord, you have thought fit to 
 make, with such solemn preparation, and such 
 glowing ardour of spirit, do indeed tend to subvert 
 the faith of Christians, and to expose the gospel to 
 the last degree of contempt, is so exceeding plain, 
 that I verily believe, it would appear to every in- 
 telligent reader a solemn kind of trifling, to labour 
 the truth of it : and the passages, which I am to 
 take under examination, may be more than suffi- 
 cient to demonstrate it to a stranger. 
 
 You have evidently represented Christianity, if 
 not religion in general, as an unreasonable thing ; 
 for you expressly tell us, not only " that it is not 
 founded on argument," and that it is incapable of 
 being generally proved by it, but go so far as roundly 
 to say, (p. 86.) " that there is an irreconcilable re- 
 pugnance between reason and faith." You speak 
 of Scripture, as if all your eloquence was at a loss for 
 words strong enough to express your contempt for 
 it. " Manuscript authorities, and paper-revela- 
 tions," as they are insultingly called, are, it seems, 
 " an empty notion :" (p. 60.) — " The suspicious 
 repositories of human testimony, in which nothing 
 remains that can deserve our least notice, or be 
 thought of consequence enough to engage a 
 moment's attention." (P. 59.) It was not, it seems, 
 enough to represent them as superfluous, " We have 
 no longer need of distant records :" (ibid.) But 
 you briskly maintain, that Omnipotence itself is 
 not able to supply their defects and insufficiency; 
 " though a constant miracle were to interpose on 
 the occasion, and the same Almigiity Power that 
 first indited it," whatever you mean by that singular 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1123 
 
 expression, " were to continue hovering perpetually 
 with a guardian hand over the sacred depositum." 
 (P. 61.) 
 
 As for all the Scripture-miracles, on which we 
 have laid so great a stress, you declare without re- 
 serve, " that they are to us no more than an uncer- 
 tain hearsay," and " that the voice of God, bearing 
 witness to his beloved Son, has long since dwindled 
 to human tradition." (P. 62, 53.) Nay, you 
 strongly insinuate, that these miracles were never 
 meant as arguments of the divine authority of the 
 gospel ; (p. 46.) and, with very little complai- 
 sance to St. Paul, are pleased to tell us, by a bur- 
 lesque on his words, when speaking of the resur- 
 rection of Christ, (pag. 68.) " that the thing was 
 done in a corner," without taking the least notice 
 of the public proofs which were given of it, in the 
 very place where it had happened but a few days 
 before. 
 
 It is obvious, Sir, that I might transcribe many 
 pages of your work in illustration of these hints ; 
 and I must needs say, that the language appears so 
 unnatural, and so monstrous, in a professed dis- 
 ciple of Christ, tiiat I am sometimes ready to 
 wonder' you were not a little more careful to save 
 appearances. But then I recollect, that the cha- 
 racter you assume is such, as leaves little room to 
 expect consistency, and seems best supported by 
 such kind of paradoxes and self-contradictions. 
 By this means also you have artfully enough dis- 
 armed your adversary of the weapon called aryu- 
 mentvm ad hominem, a whole magazine of which 
 might otherwise have been presented. Were you 
 to be attacked that way, you would no doubt laugh 
 very heartily, to sec an adversary so fairl}' bit, in a 
 grave expectation that you should be solicitous cum 
 ratione insanire, to appear a cool-headed, consistent 
 enthusiast. 
 
 You have chosen, Sir, in these transports, whe- 
 ther real or fictitious, to fight with a two-edged 
 weapon ; and the blow which you give by a kind 
 of back stroke, while avowedly defending Chris- 
 tianity, seems to me as threatening as any of the 
 rest. I mean, those passages of your book in which 
 you so grossly misrepresent that glorious and im- 
 portant doctrine of the New Testament, concerning 
 the agency of the divine Spirit, in promoting the 
 reception and efficacy of the gospel. This, accord- 
 ing to you, is nothing less than such an immediate 
 and instantaneous communication of the whole sum 
 and system of the gospel, as renders every particu- 
 lar believer more infallible, than the church of 
 Rome has generally asserted tlie pope to be, and 
 secures the most illiterate person, even from a pos- 
 sibility of error. (P. 89, 90.) This plenary inspira- 
 tion communicated to every private Christian, you 
 represent as the main and only sui)port of religion ; 
 though I think. Sir, you must needs know, that 
 J c 2 
 
 I 
 
 every difference of opinion in the Christian church 
 is a demonstration that no such universal influ- 
 ences do, in fact, take place. So that upon the 
 whole, you have left Christianity no evidence but 
 what every one sees it has not, that is, indeed, you 
 have left it no evidence at all. In one word, if 
 your readers were to suppose you serious in what 
 you write, and to fall in with your reasoning, I 
 think the plain consequence must be, that all men 
 of sober sense would immediately reject the gospel, 
 while among the remainder, every one that was mad 
 would make himself a prophet, and vent every wild 
 chimera of his distempered brain as an immediate 
 dictate of God himself ; in the plenitude of inspira- 
 tion and distraction, equally scorning to condescend 
 to assign any reasons for his doctrines, or to hear 
 any arguments against them. 
 
 That your late performance, sprightly and in- 
 genious as it is, has a tendency to produce these 
 terrible effects, (for to me they appear terrible be- 
 yond expression,) is too evident ; and I may after- 
 wards give you a more particular account of the 
 reasons, on which I apprehend that it must in its 
 consequences afl'ect the foundations of natural reli- 
 gion, as well as of revealed. How far any of these 
 consequences might be intended by you, it is not 
 my business to determine. You, Sir, are ere long 
 to answer that to the great Judge of hearts, whose 
 tribunal I should dread to usurp. Yet I cannot 
 forbear observing, that the ludicrous turn you so 
 often give to Scripture, and the air of burlesque 
 and irony which runs through your whole piece, 
 neither suits tlie character of a rapturous devotee 
 so often aflccted, nor discovers a becoming sense of 
 the infinite moment of the question in debate. 
 Pardon me. Sir, the plainness with which I speak 
 my real apprehensions on this head, and believe 
 me when I seriously declare, it is with no design to 
 libel and expose you, but with a sincere desire to 
 serve you and others, into whose hand this letter 
 may come, that I now set myself to examine what 
 you have advanced, and, if possible, to lead you 
 into juster and safer sentiments. 
 
 Agreeably to these views, and that regard to the 
 general good which has engaged me to enter on this 
 controversy, I shall decline the invidious and un- 
 necessary task of pursuing you with severe criti- 
 cism through every paragraph. I am not solicitous 
 to expose every unguarded expression, to canvas.s 
 every minute mistake, nor even to rescue every 
 clause of the sacred writings which I apprehend you 
 have misrepresented or misapplied. I have not 
 leisure for such a task as this, and there is hardly 
 any thing against which my temper more strongly 
 recoils. I shall examine what I apprehend most 
 material and most dangerous in your work, with 
 calmness and seriousness ; representing, in as few 
 words as I can, what I take to be the strength of 
 
11-21 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 votir cause, and tellinc,- you, witli llic simplicity and 
 moderation that becomes a Christian, howl answer 
 it to my own conscience. This I shall do with all 
 j)0.ssible plainness, not affecting to be witty in a case 
 in which eternity is concerned ; nor so consulting in 
 your taste and character, as to forget that I am 
 addressing the public, and aiming not to divert, but, 
 il' possible, to edify. And if any cannot relish such 
 a design, and sudi a manner, I give them fair warn- 
 ing to throw this letter aside, and to waste (or shall 
 T rather say, to kill) no more of their precious mo- 
 ments about it. 
 
 It suflieicntly appears, Sir, from your manner of 
 writing, tiiat you arc well aware, the main strength 
 of your cause lies in the first head of your dis- 
 course, to which therefore, after some gay flourislies 
 on tlic two last, you return again towards the con- 
 clusion of your pamphlet. It is this, therefore, 
 which I shall here examine at large ; and the rather, 
 because I think what you urge on this topic, though 
 it be far from any new discovery, may admit some 
 further illustration than I have commonly met with ; 
 and is the point which, in proportion to its difficulty 
 and Importance, has been least discussed by tlie 
 worthy apologists for Christianity, in which our 
 country is so happy. The foundations of the solu- 
 tion liave indeed often been laid down ; but I have 
 long wished to sec the matter placed in that par- 
 ticular point of view, in which the difficulties you 
 propose, and which naturally arise, may be most 
 happily obviated. 
 
 It is your professed design under your ffrst general 
 to show, " That reason, or the intellectual faculty, 
 could not possibly, both from its own nature, and 
 that of religion, be the principle intended by God 
 to lead us into a true faith." (P. 7.) An ambiguous 
 proposition, the sense of which must be ascertained 
 in a few words, before its pretended demonstration 
 can be discussed. 
 
 You well know, Sir, that the whole body of 
 Christians, as such, are, and must ever be, agreed, 
 tliat reason is not our only guide, but that Di- 
 vine Revelation is most wisely and graciously 
 intended to supply its many deficiencies ; and you 
 know, too, that they generally acknowledge the 
 reality and importance of divine influences on the 
 mind, to confirm our faith, and to quicken our 
 obedience. So that if you would not encounter a 
 puppet of your own forming, with whom we have 
 no manner of concern, you must mean by this grand 
 proposition, " That reason is not to be consulted, 
 in judging either of the evidences or the sense of 
 any supposed revelation, nor in forming any of our 
 religious sentiments." An assertion so apparently 
 extravagant, that one would imagine, that merely 
 to propound it were a suflicient confutation. 
 
 Can any one indeed seriously think, that the 
 noblest of our powers was intended only to the 
 
 lowest and meanest purposes ; to serve the litllt 
 olhces of mortal life, and not to be consulted in the 
 greatcstof concerns, tho.se of immortality? Strange! 
 that the only power which renders us capable of 
 saying, Where is God my Maker? and of forming 
 any sentiments of religion at all, should be dis- 
 charged from that province, for ^^ilich it seems 
 chiefly to have been given ! But it will at least 
 ha\c strength and spirit enough to say. Why must 
 I be thus discharged ? And you condescend to 
 answer at large, without seeming to be aware, that 
 your first step towards demonstrating your point 
 supposes it to be false ; appealing to reason itself to 
 judge, that it is not capable of judging at all. Nor 
 is this position only inconsistent with the pertinency 
 of any reasoning whatsoever, but particularly incon- 
 sistent with that footing on which you profess to 
 place Christianity, when its rational proofs are 
 given up. Since, if God were, according to your 
 strange liypothesis, to reveal to me in a moment the 
 whole system of Christianity, and were I assured, 
 by some inward inexplicable sensation, that it was 
 indeed a revelation from him, I could not receive it 
 without some reasoning. I must at least have this 
 one short syllogism in my mind, " What comes 
 from God is to be admitted as true ; but this comes 
 from God, therefore it is to be so admitted." And 
 the foundation of this supposes some previous rea- 
 soning, concerning the existence and veracity of 
 that Being, whose testimony is so readily to be ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 A very small part of your sagacity, Sir, might 
 serve to discover tliis, which, obvious as it is, su- 
 persedes all you have written. I will therefore take 
 it for granted, that what you really intend by this 
 general, and very unguarded, proposition, is chiefly 
 this ; " That Christianity is not capable of such a 
 rational proof, as can be made intelligible to th6 
 generality of mankind, so as to oblige them to re- 
 ceive and obey it." This is what you seem to have 
 at heart throughout your whole book, and I shall 
 not further press the advantage you have given an 
 opponent, by asserting so much more than was 
 necessary to your main design. 
 
 You do indeed sometimes acknowledge, I think 
 in direct opposition to your main argument, that 
 Christianity is capable of being rationally proved 
 to the conviction of a studious person ; (however 
 unnecessary, and however hazardous it may be, 
 even for such a one to meddle with that kind of 
 proof:) but you always contend, that the generality 
 of mankind cannot enter into any rational proofs of 
 it ; (though it is well known that it was intended 
 for them ;) and that they who can will not find 
 them sufficient, to bear the stress which must in 
 fact be laid upon them, if we desire to be Christians 
 to any valuable purpose. I shall therefore set my- 
 self on the contrary to prove, " That the rational 
 
 I 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1125 
 
 evidence of Christianity is so adjusted, that the 
 generality of its professors may, if they be not want- 
 ing to themselves, attain to some competent satis- 
 faction with regard to it." And when I have 
 offered that proof, I shall consider your objections. 
 
 I am far from asserting, that every one in com- 
 mon life can have a full view of all the controver- 
 sies which relate to Christianity ; a curiosity of 
 literature, which to multitudes would be of very 
 small importance: nor do I maintain, that every 
 sincere believer is capable of rendering a suflicient 
 reason for his faith ; an ability on many accounts 
 highly desirable, yet not, so far as I can find, at all 
 essential to salvation. A man may have reason in 
 his own mind, which he cannot readily put into 
 words. Nay, I apprehend it possible, that a man 
 may feel and comply with the practical tendency 
 of Christianity, who does not himself rightly ap- 
 prehend the force of its rational proofs, and per- 
 haps lays a very great stress on arguments which 
 are far from being conclusive. And I hope, Sir, 
 you will allow, that when a man's temper and 
 character is such as the gospel requires, such a 
 speculative mistake as to the strength of an argu- 
 ment does not affect his salvation. Else, I fear, we 
 must condemn all those excellent persons, who 
 have believed the great fundamental of all religion, 
 the existence of a God, chieHy on the force of those 
 Cartesian arguments, now generally, and I think 
 rationally, exploded. 
 
 The question is not, What knowledge is univer- 
 sally necessary, nor what is in fact attained ; but 
 what satisfaction might generally be had, if there 
 be a competent care, on the one hand, to teach, and 
 on the other, to learn. This is all which is abso- 
 lutely essential to my argument. Nevertlieless, for 
 the further illustration of the subject, I shall freely 
 tell you, how I apprehend the case to stand, with 
 regard to the generality of the common people, who 
 are in good earnest in the profession of religion ; 
 readily acknowledging, though with great grief, 
 that there are thousands, and ten thousands, who 
 wear the name of Christians as by mere accident, 
 without at all considering its meaning, reason, or 
 obligation ; a case very consistent with the possibi- 
 lity of their being better informed, and rationally 
 convinced. 
 
 Now here, Sir, the leading thought will be, that 
 God has so adjusted the nature and circumstances 
 of Christianity, as represented and exhibited in the 
 New Testament, that it is attended with a strong 
 degree of internal evidence, of which, by an un- 
 accountable omission, you take not the least notice ; 
 and that what is most essential to the external 
 proof, lies witliin much less compass than you seem 
 to imagine, and is capable, if previous precautions 
 be taken in a proper manner, of being opened to 
 persons of an ordinary capacity, and understood by 
 
 them, though they have neither ability nor leisure 
 for the curiosities of learned disquisition. 
 
 For the illustration of this, you must give mc 
 leave to remind you, that both the Mosaic and 
 Christian dispensation have been much misrepre- 
 sented, in consequence of men's taking their notions 
 of them, rather from the conduct of their professors, 
 than from the institutes of their respective founders. 
 To apply this to the present occasion, let us con- 
 sider what the case of Christians would be, with re- 
 gard to the rational evidence of their religion, if 
 things were to flow on in the channel, into which it 
 was the apparent design of our divine Master to 
 direct them. 
 
 You will no doubt, Sir, readily allow, that a 
 pious education, and a standing ministry, are ap- 
 pointments of our blessed Redeemer, and will spare 
 me the trouble of proving either of them in form. 
 And as you take it for granted in the whole of your 
 Letter, that infant baptism is a Christian ordinance, 
 you will also allow me to mention it as a common 
 principle, though little of my argument will depend 
 on its being so. 
 
 A parent therefore acting upon the laws of Chris- 
 tianity, (which is what I here all along suppose in 
 stating the case,) having in a solemn manner de- 
 voted his child to God in its early infancy, and 
 having ever since been afleetionately recommending 
 it to tiic divine blessing, watches the first dawning 
 of reason, to instil into its tender mind, sentiments 
 of piety to God, gratitude to the Redeemer, benevo- 
 lence to men, and every other grace and virtue 
 which the gospel recommends, and which tiie life 
 of its great Founder exemplified. Quickened by 
 the obligation, which the birth and baptism of every 
 younger child in the family renews, the father and 
 mother concur in a wise and conscientious care, to" 
 keep their dear offspring, as far as possible, out of 
 the sight and hearing of every thing profane, cruel, 
 and indecent ; and " whatsoever things are true, 
 whatsoever things are venerable, whatsoever things 
 arc righteous, whatsoever things are pure, whatso- 
 ever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good 
 report, if there be any virtue, if there be any praise," 
 the child will be taught, by the force of precept and 
 daily example, to " think on these things," and to 
 pursue them. The consequence of this, under those 
 influences of divine grace which may be cheerfully 
 expected in the way of duty, will probably be an 
 early sense of decency, virtue, and piefy. The 
 growth of those seeds of corrupt nature, which will 
 in some instances discover themselves in the most 
 amiable children, will in a great measure be sup- 
 pressed ; religion will grow familiar and pleasant, 
 under the smiling aspect it will appear to wear; 
 and the Bible, which our little disciple will early 
 have been laught to read, will soon become a most 
 delightful book. The entertaining stories, the fine 
 
11-26 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 examples, the beautiful poems, tlic wise precepts, so 
 gravely and yet so kindly given, vvliicli it will every 
 where meet with, must give it abundance of plea- 
 sure ; and it will be eager to read those things, the 
 general contents of which it has learnt, long before 
 it could read, from the daily discourse of its parents, 
 who, wliilc they are recounting these glorious 
 things, will be teaching themselves as well as their 
 children, and by njore familiar and attentive views 
 of them, confirming their own faith, and animating 
 their own piety. And as for the leading facts which 
 the child meets with in Scripture, strange as some 
 of them may appear, it will readily believe theiu on 
 this general foundation ; that its good parents, who 
 know much better than himself, and never deceive 
 him, assure him that every thing which this excel- 
 lent book contains is true. And this, Sir, is all the 
 satisfaction which a child of the most extraordinary 
 genius can have in the first stages of life ; and if it 
 die before it arrive to greater maturity, it will be 
 happy in the practical influence, which the gospel, 
 thus implicitly believed, had upon its temper and 
 conduct; as it could be under no necessity of enter- 
 ing into its rational evidence, before those faculties 
 opened by which that evidence was to be received, 
 any more than a blind man can be obliged to read, 
 or the dumb to sing God's praises. 
 
 At length, as the minds of children open, they 
 will gradually be led into some further reflections 
 on the certainty of these things in which they have 
 been instructed. And here they will soon perceive 
 some degree of difTerence in the evidence of them, 
 immediately appearing. As for the existence of the 
 Supreme Being, I really think that the noblest and 
 most satisfactory arguments, of which the mind of 
 man is capable, are those which are obvious even 
 to the understanding of a child : I mean those taken 
 from the works of creation and providence. Com- 
 mon sense will surely tell these little creatures, as 
 soon as they can understand the words, that if every 
 house, even the poorest cottage, must have some 
 builder, there must be one who built all things, 
 who made heaven and earth, with all their bright, 
 noble furniture. And as they see, clearly as they 
 see the sun, that he who made and upholds all these 
 things, is powerful and wise ; which every flower, 
 and every fly, when considered as his work, may 
 show them : so they may naturally conclude, such 
 a great and wise Being is good ; and it will be easy 
 to show them, that every agreeable object about 
 them is a sensible proof of his goodness ; every plea- 
 sant fruit, for instance, a gift of God, which all the 
 men in the world could not have made, or provided 
 for them, without him. 
 
 By such familiar views of things they may be 
 brought, not only to believe, but to know, that there 
 is a great, powerful, wise, and kind Father of the 
 world always near them. Nor will it be difficult to 
 
 give them some rational view and conviction of his 
 moral attributes, as inferred from his natural. I 
 suppose they have in those early lessons, of sacred 
 history, which have been their entertainment from 
 their infancy, been led to reflect on the characters of 
 persons mentioned ; to see the amiablencss of some 
 aflections and actions, and the deformity of others, 
 which in many instances are as obvious, as that one 
 face, or dress, makes a pleasanter appearance to the 
 eye than another. Discerning this visible dift'erence 
 in moral characters, long before they knew what 
 the words morality or character signify, they will 
 naturally, and I think very reasonably, conclude, 
 that it is just to ascribe every excellence and glory 
 to him, in whom they see so many : and by conse- 
 quence, that he must be pleased with what is good, 
 and displeased with what is evil. They see it in 
 their wise and pious parents, (for wise and pious 
 we here suppose them- to be,) and they will much 
 more conclude, it must be in him, whom they have 
 learnt to address as " our Father who art in heaven." 
 I take the liberty, Sir, to tell you, that I have ex- 
 amined many scores of children on these heads, not 
 as to what they have learnt, but as to what they 
 themselves think of the matter ; and have put the 
 (juestions in various forms, to suggest an affirmative 
 or negative answer ; and I always find, if they 
 understand the terms of it, they answer right upon 
 a very short pause. 
 
 Agreeably to those obvious principles, they 
 naturally apprehend, that the regard of God to his 
 creatures follow them beyond death ; and that he 
 rewards or punishes them, suitably to their temper 
 and behaviour. They cannot think, that God would 
 have suffered such persons as Abel, or the seven 
 sons of that good woman in the Maccabees, to have 
 been slain in that cruel manner, if he had not in- 
 tended to take them to himself, and make them 
 happier than they were : that, Sir, is a learned 
 prejudice, the laboured error of a man, of a minute 
 philosopher : the simplicity of a virtuous child is not 
 able to attain it. 
 
 A prudent parent will easily foresee, that the 
 child will find greater difficulties in coming at the 
 evidence of the truth of those things, which depend 
 merely upon the authority of Scripture : he will 
 early be laying in materials for its seeing the force 
 of that noble part of it, which you so strangely leave 
 untouched; I mean, that which is internal, and 
 arises from the contents and design of the book 
 itself. A child trained up as we here suppose, will, 
 probably, of itself, make a great many rellections, 
 what an excellent book it is ; especially as to some 
 parts of it, with which I have known little children 
 so struck, that they have, of their own accord, 
 read the same passage, though neither history nor 
 parable, over and over, till they have almost learned 
 it by heart : the religious parent or friend will 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1127 
 
 watcL, encourage, and illustrate these remarks ; and 
 at length, when he finds the young mind strong 
 enough to receive it, he will lead it to reflect, what 
 excellent men they must be who wrote such things : 
 and when that reflection is familiar, and has been 
 daily renewed, perhaps for weeks and months, 
 another easily follows, that the Bible is undoubtedly 
 true and divine ; for good men would never have 
 invented lies, and have presumed to teach them in 
 the name of God himself; and wicked men would 
 not, and could not, have written what is so excel- 
 lently good, and tends to make others so. This, 
 Sir, ray pious friends taught me when I was a child ; 
 and I think it, to this very day, an argument of 
 unanswerable weight: and I cannot but apprehend, 
 that the more a man advances in real goodness, and 
 the more intimately he converses with Scripture, 
 the more he will be impressed with it. Here is an 
 argument depending on no other fact than this, that 
 there is such a book as the Bible in the world, of 
 which our children are as sure, as that there is a 
 sun : and Providence has wisely ordered it so, that 
 they may understand the force of it, before they 
 can enter into objections against it ; and so far as I 
 can judge, those objections must be stronger than 
 any I have ever met with, which can be sufhcicnt to 
 balance the force of it. Yet this is far from being 
 the only foundation of our faith, or the only argu- 
 ment in its favour, which a young Christian may be 
 able, with proper assistance, to understand. 
 
 The external evidence does not indeed lie within 
 so little room, nor can it perhaps be made etjually 
 obvious by every pious parent ; yet with the assist- 
 ance which able ministers, and proper books, may 
 give, I apprehend, a child of fourteen or fifteen 
 years old may have some competent view of it. It 
 will be a most easy thing to show him, by uncon- 
 troverted testimonies, collected by a variety of 
 writers, — that Christianity was an ancient religion, 
 — for the sake of which its professors, in its earliest 
 ages, endured great extremities ; — that there was, 
 about 1700 years ago, such a person as Jesus Christ, 
 the great founder of it ; — that the first preachers of 
 his religion wrote books, which were called by the 
 name of those that make up the most important 
 part of the New Testament ; — that these books are, 
 in the main, transmitted to us uncorrupted ; — and 
 that our translation of them may, in the general, be 
 depended upon as right. These are the grand i)re- 
 liminaries ; and as the foundation may be laid 
 v/ithout much dilficulty, so the superstructure may 
 be raised upon it, with yet much more ease. From 
 the New Testament, thus proved to be genuine, a 
 person of very moderate capacity and learning will 
 presently be able to show, that the writers of it cer- 
 tainly knew, whether the facts they recorded were 
 true or false ; — that their character, so far as wc 
 can judge by their manner of writing, was so ex- 
 
 cellently good, that there is no reason to suspect 
 them of falsehood ; — nay, that the probability of 
 their fidelity is so great, that it would be astonish- 
 ing, if the strongest temptation could prevail upon 
 them to violate it ; — at least in so criminal a man- 
 ner, as they must have done if they were impostors : 
 — the temptations must have been exceeding strong, 
 to justify the least degree of suspicion: — but they 
 had no temptation at all to forge such a story, and 
 to attempt to impose upon the world by it : — how- 
 ever, that if they had made the attempt, they could 
 not have succeeded in gaining credit ; — neverthe- 
 less, it is plain, they did gain credit among vast 
 multitudes, who were strongly prejudiced against 
 the religion they taught ;— from all which things 
 compared, it appears that their story, and the reli- 
 gion founded upon it, i. e. Christianity, is true : a 
 conclusion which may be greatly illustrated by 
 showing them further, — what wonderful things have 
 since happened for the confirmation of it; con- 
 sidering, on the one hand, what God has done to 
 establish it ; and on the other, what methods its' 
 enemies have taken to destroy it. 
 
 It is not my business. Sir, to state and vindicate 
 these arguments at large ; I have done it already in 
 my Three Sermons on the Evidences of Christianity, 
 which were published several years ago ; and I 
 shall be very ready to canvass the strength of them, 
 as there represented, with any who shall think fit 
 to bring them into dispute. I the rather mention 
 those Sermons here, because they are calculated for 
 popular use, and may assist those who arc not so 
 well versed in the arguments, to propose them to 
 their children or catechumens, in what I apprehend 
 the easiest and plainest light. By talking over 
 these heads in a free and familiar manner, and then 
 giving them the book to read two or three times 
 alone, till he has fixed the leading thoughts in his 
 understanding and memory, I doubt not but such a 
 foundation might be laid in a few days, as all the 
 succeeding years of life would not be able to shake- 
 Nor must it ever be forgotten, how much it would 
 be cemented and established by that true taste of 
 moral beauty and excellence, which we suppose 
 already formed in the mind of our young student. 
 He would find so much to charm him in the senti- 
 ments, character, and conduct of the apostles, as 
 would engage him to lay a very great stress on that 
 important branch of the argument which turns on 
 that point. Jt would appear to him, in theory, ut- 
 terly improbable, that men of their heroic goodness 
 should engage in so impious and mischievous a 
 fraud, as they must have engaged in, if their testi- 
 mony was false ; as,* on the other hand, the good 
 sense which may easily be discovered in their 
 
 * Ilnw impious anil niiscliievniis tire fr.iiul must liavc been, if it 
 were a fraud, it illustrated more fully tlian 1 have elsewhere seen it, ia 
 the Sermiiiis 1 mentioned aliove ; and the thought appears to mc of 
 vast iinportaiicc. 
 
1128 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 writinifs and bcliavioiii . will make it appear C(|ually 
 absurd lo imagine, lluy should so madly run on 
 sufl'erinfi^.s and ruin, as they must have done, if they 
 had not been conscious of a divine support, or 
 miraculous powers, and of immense future re- 
 wards. 
 
 A religious youth, grown up to years of maturity, 
 with a mind thus furnished, and thus disposed, will 
 not easily be perverted to infidelity : so precious a 
 freight would be too weighty, to be overset by every 
 wind of doctrine, and every breath of ridicule. Yet 
 it might conduce to his security, if a prudent parent 
 or minister should give him, before the scene of 
 temptation opens, some short hints of the chief 
 topics from whence objections against Christianity 
 are drawn, and of the plainest and most obvious 
 answers to them, which, so far as I can judge, are 
 generall}' the most solid. If a person be not in- 
 tended for some Icarnetl profession, or distinguished 
 circumstance in life, it is by no means necessary to 
 be large in this part of the scheme ; but something 
 of this kind may easily and profitably be done, and 
 there will be no reason to be in any panic, lest every 
 hint of an objection should overturn his faith. 
 Answers will be suggested, with those objections; 
 and he will soon be weary of hearing such poor 
 unsatisfactory things as most of the cavils of infi- 
 delity are. And here, again, the good habits and 
 dispositions formed in his mind, will be of great 
 service. He will perceive, that Christianity wears 
 so favourable an aspect, and opens upon him so fine 
 a prospect, that he will not hunt after objections 
 against it; as a man is not studious to find a flaw 
 in writings, by which be stands entitled to the re- 
 version of some noble estate: and when they acci- 
 dentally start up in this way, he will soon see, that 
 many of them are grounded on notorious falsehood, 
 and are in themselves despicably mean; especially 
 when set against the great arguments for it, of 
 which he is already possessed : and with regard to 
 others, the assistance of ministers and other religi- 
 ous friends, which when pressed with real diffi- 
 culties he will honestly seek, will, no doubt, furnish 
 him with proper answers ; and, indeed, his converse 
 with the Scriptures will enable him, without foreign 
 a.ssistancc, to obviate most of them, and they will 
 vanish like birds of night before the sun : not now 
 to mention those auxiliaries, which his faith will 
 often call in, from observing and comparing the 
 dill'erent characters of those, wlio are most solicitous, 
 on the one hand to destroy it, and on the other to 
 support it, of which I may hereafter speak. 
 
 If this, Sir, were merely an imaginary scheme, 
 on which no parent acted, and no children were 
 educated, yet if it were (as, I think, every one must 
 own it is) agreeable tg the original Christian plan, 
 it would not be foreign to our purpose ; as it will 
 prove, that if proper precautions were taken, and 
 
 men were to act in character, competent rational 
 evidence might be attained as young people grew 
 up to a capacity of exercising reason, which is all 
 that could be supposed requisite. But bad as the 
 work is, I bless God, I can confidently say, I have 
 in the main traces copied from the life. This, to 
 my certain knowledge, is the care of many parents 
 and ministers, and this the felicity of many chil- 
 dren. The success is generally answerable ; and I 
 hope, the instances in which it is so in the protest- 
 ant world, are not to be numbered by scores, but by 
 hundreds and thousands, who are to be regarded 
 as the precious seed of the church in the next age, 
 and who, I doubt not, will, in spite of all the ellorts 
 of infidelity, exert themselves so effectually in its 
 service, that the gates of hell shall not prevail 
 against it. 
 
 Nevertheless, while I bless God that this is the 
 case of so many, I readily acknowledge, that, 
 through a negligence, for which I fear a multitude 
 of parents and ministers have a terrible account to 
 render before God, it is generally much otherwise. 
 By far the greater part of professing Christians 
 have probably no better reason to give for their re- 
 ligion, than that they were early baptized into it, and 
 have been trained up in some of its external forms. 
 Far from being instructed in its evidences, they are 
 hardly taught its doctrines, or its precepts ; or su- 
 perficially learn them from those, who do not them- 
 selves seem to be in good earnest concerned about 
 the one or the other. The fatal consequence is too 
 plain. The corruptions of nature, abetted by the 
 force of evil examples, prevail against them ; and 
 they are early plunged into such licentious practices, 
 that if they ever reflect on the most evident and ex- 
 press declarations of the word of God, they must 
 immediately see, that they are condemned by it. 
 
 Now, there is no reason to wonder, if many of 
 this sort of Christians are easy proselytes to infide- 
 lity. It is no surprising thing, if a bold jest thrown 
 upon Scripture, or a confident senseless assertion 
 of its falsehood, (perhaps from a person on whose 
 word hardly any thing else would be believed,) 
 have with them all the weight of a demonstration. 
 They will be little concerned to ask information, or 
 consiiler how objections may be answered. Those 
 magical words, priestcraft, and the prejudice of 
 education, stun and terrify them : they submit, as 
 you gravely express it, (p. 75.) " in the impotence 
 and impuberty of a dutiful understanding, in the 
 tractable simplicity of unpractised reason : with the 
 obsequious and humble acquiescence of a babe, 
 they sit down to learn their lesson" too ; and their 
 unbelief, after they have attained the stature of 
 men, is just as blind and implicit as the faith of 
 their childhood was. 
 
 This, Sir, is undoubtedly the case with many: 
 and you cannot but have observed what large com- 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1129 
 
 panics in the freethinking army arc raised and 
 enlisted from among these vagabonds. But the 
 generality of men among us, as in every nation, go 
 on thoughtlessly in the religion in which they were 
 educated : hearing the truth of it often asserted, 
 and perhaps never hearing it contradicted, tliey 
 entertain no doubts on the subject, but grow old in 
 a mere speculative and ineffectual assent to Christi- 
 anity. And if their heart at any time smite them, 
 with the contrariety of their temper and (conduct to 
 the rules which they acknowledge to be divine, 
 they seek their shelter in the hope of making their 
 peace with God, (as they commonly express it,) 
 before they go out of the world ; and perhaps abuse 
 some of the noblest discoveries which the gospel 
 makes, as an encouragement to continue in those 
 sins and follies, from which it was expressly de- 
 signed to reclaim them. 
 
 Nevertheless, it frequently happens among such 
 as these, that some are awakened to think deeply 
 and seriously of religion : the plain lively preaching 
 of the gospel, or perhaps some afllictive providence, 
 rouses them from their lethargy. And I must 
 reckon it among the chief felicities of my life, that 
 J have had many opportunities of observing, what 
 are in fact the workings of men's spirits in such a 
 circumstance. 
 
 And here I have always found, that the moral 
 perfections of the great Governor of the world ap- 
 pear to them in a very lively view : the records of 
 their own conscience are thrown open before their 
 eyes, and they feel a load of guilt pressing on 
 their minds, of which they were before utterly in- 
 sensible. Under this anxiety they hear of the 
 remedy which the gospel has provided ; and they 
 hear of it with another kind of regard than for- 
 merly. It is what they now perceive that they 
 want; (strange, that they should have perceived it 
 no sooner!) and it appears far more important to 
 them than animal life and all its enjoyments. 
 Hearing of the love and grace of a Kcdecmer, con- 
 cerning the reality of whose undertaking they never 
 had any considerable doubt, their hearts are trans- 
 ported with a (low of most ardent and various aflec- 
 tions ; they find another kind of energy in these 
 things, than they were ever aware, or could have 
 imagined to be possible. He has saved their lives 
 at the expense of his own ; and under the constraints 
 of his love, they consecrate themselves to a forgiv- 
 ing God, with an ardour of soul which nothing but 
 gratitude can inspire. They do now, as it were, 
 receive the gospel anew from his hand, not as a 
 revelation new made, but now first endeared to 
 them, by a sense of their own concern in it ; they 
 exemplify the beauty of its precepts, and they feel 
 the force of its consolations. A blessed elfect, in 
 which I humbly acknowledge the finger of God and 
 the agency of his Spirit ; though I see no reason to 
 
 pretend to an immediate inspiration, in the sense 
 which you maintain. 
 
 When the first tumult of affections, raised by so 
 interesting and important a scene, subsides, and 
 the happy converts come more coolly to reflect on 
 what has passed, they draw a new argument of the 
 truth of this glorious gospel from its experienced 
 efficacy ; and, though they cannot make a stranger 
 sensible of the force of it, will say, like the blind 
 man, as yet little instructed in many other proofs 
 of our Lord's divine mission, If he were not of God, 
 he could not have opened my eyes ; and under the 
 lively impression of it, the sophistry of modern in- 
 fidels is as little to them as that of the Sanhedrim 
 was to him. At length, growing in wisdom and 
 piety by their acquaintance with the gospel, and in 
 proportion to their regard for it, they likewise, who 
 had formerly no taste and sensibility for such 
 things, become qualified to take a more extensive 
 survey of its internal evidence, and to judge of it; 
 and, accordingly, they see it much in the same light 
 with those who had been formed to an earlier sub- 
 jection to it, and had grown up with it in their 
 hands and their hearts. 
 
 Of these recovered votaries to it, some who have 
 a head turned for reasoning, perhaps from a desire 
 to serve others, and honour God, by defending 
 Christianity, rather than from any doubt which they 
 themselves have of its truth, set themselves to study 
 the evidences of the gospel, as stated in some judi- 
 cious treatise on the subject ; which they carefully 
 examine, and often ground so thoroughly in their 
 understandings and memories, as to be able to 
 silence, if not to convince, gainsayers. And others, 
 who have not leisure or inclination to search so 
 particularly into the whole compass of the argu- 
 ment, are perhaps greatly confirmed in their faith, 
 by some circumstances which powerfully impress 
 them, though they may not be able to communicate 
 the force of the argument to others ; or though, 
 where it is communicated, it cannot publiidy be 
 stated, without inconveniences which might over- 
 balance the advantages arising from the discovery 
 of such occurrences. 
 
 I am sensible. Sir, I am touching on a subject, 
 which it is dillicult to handle, without the imputa- 
 tion of enthusiasm, and perhaps without the danger 
 of it ; and therefore I shall dismiss it in a few words. 
 I take upon me now to assert no facts, cither as my 
 own experience, or as on the testimony of others, 
 whom I may have reason to credit ; but I would 
 suggest the thought in hypothesis. Is it in the na- 
 ture of things impossible, or is it utterly incredible, 
 that the great Author and Governor of all should, 
 in some rare instances, even in these later ages, de- 
 viate from the laws by which he statedly rules the 
 natural world, for the deliverance and support of 
 some of his faithful servants in circumstances of 
 
1130 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 great cxlrcniity ; especially, when thereby the in- 
 terest of the moral world may remarkably be pro- 
 moted ? Or supposin}!; this to be ever so rare, I 
 would fiirtlier ask, Is it impossible that he may, on 
 a perfeet view of every minutest circumstance, have 
 constituted the course of thinj^s in such a manner, 
 that tiiere shall be a remarkable correspondence be- 
 tween a train of thoughts in a Christian's mind, 
 and an event arising; from other natural, but per- 
 haps unobserved, causes, on which that train of 
 thou<!;hts could have no influence ? Do you, Sir, 
 thoroughly understand the law, by which thoughts 
 arise in our mind? or can you say, by what con- 
 nexion one sprinffs up, rather than another ? Can 
 you account for it, why the mind is sometimes so 
 much more forcibly struck than at other times, witli 
 the same object ; or why it sometimes feels itself 
 directed strongly into a certain channel, and track 
 of thinking, in which it is not conscious to itself of 
 a self-determining agency ? Or are you sure that 
 there may not be a special gracious appointment 
 (whether natural or miraculous I do not now con- 
 tend) in certain events, the causes of which are so 
 unobserved, that we commonly, but perhaps rashly, 
 say, they happen by chance ? That tlie minds of 
 many eminently wise and good men have been 
 greatly comforted and established by such events, I 
 am well assured ; and it seems probable to me, that 
 to well-disposed persons, of weaker abilities, they 
 may more frequently happen : nevertheless, as I 
 know they are liable to a great deal of cavil, and 
 that it is the fashion of the age to deride every thing 
 of this nature, I will not urge this argument in the 
 present debate, but content myself with having in- 
 sinuated it. I think I ought not entirely to have 
 omitted it ; and this seems its most proper place. 
 
 It is, I hope, at least possible, that the faith of 
 an illiterate Christian may be not only really, but 
 rationally, confirmed by such events ; or, if you will 
 admit the commonly received phrase, by such spe- 
 cial providences as these. However, I am sure, 
 there is another topic of argument, which is fre- 
 quently of great and important service in this view, 
 and which falls under the daily observation of the 
 common people as well as others, and of which 
 they are as competent judges as tlie most polite and 
 learned of mankind. I mean, that which arises from 
 comparing the temper and conduct of those who 
 profess to reject the gospel, with that of those who 
 seem most cordially to esteem and embrace it. 
 
 If it were evident and notorious, that infidelity 
 did generally in fact make men better; if it in- 
 creased their reverence for the Divine IJeing, and 
 made them more diligent, constant, and devout in 
 paying their daily homage before him ; if it rendered 
 them more sober and temperate, more mild and 
 gentle, more upriglit and benevolent, in their beha- 
 viour; though this would be a most unaccountable 
 
 phenomenon to any one who examines the consti- 
 tution of the gospel, (since that diminishes no 
 natural motive to virtue, and adds many peculiar 
 to itself,) I do not say, that this remark ought to 
 balance all the evidence on the otlier side ; yet I 
 will venture, Sir, to say, that I think it would shock 
 an honest and candid mind, more than all the ob- 
 jections I have ever seen or heard of, as advanced 
 by our modern freethinkers. But I lirmly believe, 
 that what weight this thought has, will be found 
 in favour of Christianity, and not in opposition 
 to it. 
 
 You well know, Sir, one can judge of these 
 things only by one's own observation, and the re- 
 port of others. I will not now insist on the latter; 
 and that what I have to say as to the former may 
 not be imputed to the eagerness of disputation, I 
 think it not unbecoming my character to use the 
 solemnity of saying, in tlie words of St. Paul, I 
 protest to you by our rejoicing which I have in 
 Christ Jesus, (and a stronger asseveration I cannot 
 use,) that I write on this topic, as I would do if my 
 life were to conclude with this letter, and I were 
 directly to pass to account before the Judge of hearts 
 for the truth of what I say. 
 
 I condescend not to speak of a mere freedom 
 from gross and infamous vices ; but sure I am, that 
 if ever I have seen amiable and sublime virtue in 
 the world, I have seen it among the humble disci- 
 ples of Jesus. Where education and circumstances 
 in life have been low. Christian principles have, to 
 my certain knowledge, so far as principles could 
 be known from behaviour, raised, animated, and 
 ennobled the mind. I have beheld, even in cot- 
 tages, that filial devotion toward the blessed God, 
 that cordial submission to his will under the most 
 painful dispensations, that calm steady fortitude 
 in the midst of evils, which might have made a 
 philosopher tremble ; that cheerfulness in the imme- 
 diate views of death ; and, in the tenor of lives 
 which I liave intimately known, that strict inte- 
 grity, that diligence, that contentment, that readi- 
 ness to do good, in full proportion to their small 
 abilities ; that generous self-denial to avoid what 
 might grieve and offend others ; and, to crown all, 
 that tender solicitude for the eternal happiness of 
 friends, of strangers, and sometimes even of ene- 
 mies ; which has often filled me with wonder as 
 well as delight. I speak freely, as conscious both 
 of the truth and importance of wliat I say ; nor am 
 I at all ashamed thus openly to acknowledge, that 
 my faith in Christianity has been not a little esta- 
 blished by such observations as these ; which, I 
 bless God, have not been made in a few instances: 
 and I esteem the evidence not the less, but the 
 more, because day-labourers might enter into it, as 
 well as myself. 
 
 I doubt not. Sir, but thousands more have also 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, 8i,c. 
 
 1131 
 
 made observations of this kind ; and that it will 
 generally be found, that when tlic principles of 
 Christianity enter a mind before iinaflccted with 
 them, they produce this effect, which indeed it is 
 most natural they should. On the other hand, as 
 to professed infidels, and it is on them only that the 
 observation can pertinently be made, I appeal to 
 the world in general, whether they do not commonly 
 make shipwreck of a good conscience, as well as 
 of faith, and plainly show, that the precepts of the 
 gospel are as disagreeable to them as its doctrines. 
 It would be strange, indeed, if good nature, a sense 
 of honour, and, especially in advanced life, a cau- 
 tion not to disgrace distinguishing principles, did 
 not restrain some from scandalous enormities, and 
 produce something agreeable in their behaviour ; 
 but I believe, most who know the world will allow, 
 that it is a peculiar glory for any of this sect to 
 maintain so much as an uniform external appear- 
 ance of what the best heathen moralists have 
 esteemed virtue. 
 
 People of attention and reflection in the lower 
 ranks of life, arc not so stupid, as not to observe 
 those things, or to neglect drawing the obvious in- 
 ference from them : an inference, in which they 
 will be both directed, and supported, by that maxim 
 of our divine Master, By their fruits yc shall know 
 them. What the morals of infidel writers in pri- 
 vate life have been, it may seem diflTicult certainlv 
 to judge, because their pieces have been mostly 
 anonymous. Yet I cannot forbear observing, that 
 some of those ingenious authors have found out a 
 way of letting the world into their characters, 
 without publishing their names ; and that in some 
 such palpable instances, as one would almost 
 ascribe to a judicial infatuation, or think they 
 had been hired to expose their own cause to con- 
 tempt. 
 
 And this leads me further to touch upon that 
 confirmation, which the faith of plain Christians 
 sometimes receives, from observing, not only the 
 character of those who would subvert Christianity, 
 but also the manner in which they often manage 
 their opposition to it. 
 
 Every one who can read his Bible may observe, 
 (and it may be profitable for young persons, espe- 
 cially, to be shown it,) how unjustly the enemies of 
 revelation often represent the doctrines and facts 
 delivered in Scripture. He may sec the calumnies, 
 which these men often throw upon the inspired 
 writers, or those whom they celebrate, rolling off, 
 like foul water from the down of a swan, without 
 leaving any trace or soil behind it. It is obvious 
 also to remark, that instead of examining, or so 
 much as attempting to confute, the arguments for 
 Christianity, which these gentlemen cannot but 
 know ; they only advance their surmises, and their 
 possibilities, or make vain efforts to prove, that 
 
 those things cannot in reason be, which in fact 
 appear. 
 
 It is not to be wondered, if honest persons of 
 plain sense have soon enough of such teachers, and 
 do not often come to seek for grapes from thorns, 
 or figs from thistles ; or that if the boisterous at- 
 tacks, which are made on their faith by such me- 
 thods, seem at first a little to loosen the roots of it, 
 the storm afterwards serves only to fix it the faster, 
 and to make way for its further spread. Especially 
 when they see, that arguments produced in oppo- 
 sition to Christianity, often have as malignant an 
 aspect on natural religion too, and apparently tend 
 to destroy all mutual commerce among mankind, 
 which can never be carried on without some confi- 
 dence in the testimony of each other. It is thus 
 that meat often comes out of the eater, and sweet- 
 ness out of the fierce ; and the subtle are taken in 
 their own craftiness. The grossness of such visible 
 and palpable snares engages prudent people to 
 avoid the path in which they lie, and so secures 
 them from others of a finer contexture and more 
 dangerous form. 
 
 And thus. Sir, I have fulfilled my promise, and 
 given you a more distinct account, than I remember 
 to have met with elsewhere, of the rational satisfac- 
 tion which many Christians in common life have, 
 and others, under due cultivation, might without 
 any accuracy of learning obtain, with regard to the 
 truth of the religion they profess. And I do sin- 
 cerely apprehend, that this representation of the 
 matter, far different from that which you have given, 
 if it appear ju.st, will contain a compendious answer 
 to what you have suggested on the contrary side of 
 the question ; and be such a reply to your treatise, 
 as walkiny is to the celebrated arguments which 
 have been brought to demonstrate the impossibility 
 of motion. 
 
 But here. Sir, as you tell my friend, " I am very 
 sensible, I have been holding you for some time 
 past in the highest impatience of zeal, to inter])Ose 
 and remind mo," that even this evidence cannot be 
 obtained by all ; — that while it is pursued, it keeps 
 the mind in a state of dangerous hesitation ; — and 
 where it is had, it is founded in the prepossessions 
 of education,- — in partial and imperfect views of the 
 question ; — that much of it depends upon precarious 
 human testimony ; — and consequently, that it can- 
 not have ellicacy enough to satisfy the mind, to 
 control irregular affections, or to animate against 
 those extremities, which the gospel may sometimes 
 require us to endure in its defence. Eacli of these 
 particulars you object in your pamphlet ; and I do 
 not remember any thing material suggested in it, 
 and proper to be considered in this place, which 
 docs not fall under one or other of these heads. 
 
 Now as to the first of these, it is indeed true, that 
 all the evidence which I have here described, can- 
 
1 132 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 not probably be attained by all ; though I am con- 
 iidcnt a great deal more nu<!,ht bo done for this 
 purpose, in an enlightened and protestant country 
 like ours, than we generally see. Care might be 
 taken, especially if the riehcr kind of people had 
 a becoming compassion on their poor neigiibouis, 
 to teach all children to read, and to furnisli all 
 families wilii Bibles ; as also to put such catechisms 
 into their hands, as contain .some hints of the rea- 
 sons of Christianity. And if that which i)r. Thomas 
 Burnet has drawn up in so plain and concise a 
 manner, were to be used, I will venture to Sciy, that 
 children will be furnished with reasons for being 
 Christians, which, so far as I can learn, the most 
 sagacious Deists have been too wise to attempt 
 directly to answer ; and till they botii attempt, and 
 eflect it, the understanding of a child may sec, that 
 whatever else they do is of very little importance. 
 There are also several other plain and popular 
 pieces,* which may, with a very small expense of 
 money and time, be purchased and perused by 
 young people : and if they were to be read two or 
 three times over in families on the evening of the 
 Lord's day, children and servants might, by an 
 attentive hearing, be enabled to give some reason 
 of the hope that is in them. And till they come to 
 be capable of understanding such plain things as 
 these, if they have no reason to believe their Bible 
 to bo true, but that they find it excellently good, 
 and see it believed and reverenced by the wisest 
 and best of those around them, it is, I suppose, at 
 least as good a ground for their faith, as such in- 
 fant understandings can have for infidelity. Nor 
 will it be easy to invent any scheme, by which a 
 child shall attain any knowledge at all, without 
 some confidence in the veracity and skill of its 
 parents, or other teachers. 
 
 Indeed, Sir, according to the injurious represent- 
 ation you have made of human nature, this is the 
 case, not of little children alone, but of most who 
 are grown up to years of maturity. " The gene- 
 rality of apprehensions," say you, (p. 17.) " ex- 
 tend not beyond a simple proposition, and are 
 throw n out at once at the very mention of intro- 
 ducing a medium ;" that is, in plain terms, they 
 are not rational creatures. I .shall not now urge, 
 how inconsistent this is with the arguments, by 
 which those that call themselves (by a strong cata- 
 chresis) freethinkers, attempt to reason people out 
 of a regard to revelation ; and that, even by main- 
 taining the natural abilities of the human mind to 
 discover, without any supernatural assistance, every 
 thing in religion which we are concerned to know. 
 You, Sir, are too zealous a Christian to he pressed 
 with such a consequence ; or to be told, that if 
 
 * Eillicr the Three Sermons mentioned before, or the Bishop of 
 London's I'.istor.il Letters ; or a pamplilct cnlitled Plain Reasons for 
 being- .1 Christian ; or the first part uf Tlie Gentleman's Religion. 
 
 your subsequent discourse (p. 18, li).) be right, 
 when taken in connexion w ith this principle, it will 
 lead to a conclusion, that men may live at random, 
 not having sense enough to be capable of rendering 
 an account to God for their actions. It would, 1 
 doubt not, be well for some, if this were indeed the 
 case ; but 1 hope none that pretend to reason 
 against religion, will imagine they have any pre- 
 tence to take shelter in such a thought. If this 
 admonition be a digression, you will, I hope, par- 
 don it, in favour of those who, I dare say, are the 
 greatest admirers of your performance ; and I will 
 now return to remind you, in direct answer to what 
 you advance, that daily experience shows the capa- 
 cities of mankind in general not to be so weak as 
 (just to serve a present purpose) you are pleased to 
 suppose them. Do not people in low life reason on 
 the common occurrences of it Do they not learn 
 the art of numbers, and often know how to apply 
 it in cases where the reason of that application 
 requires more than one medium to find it out? I 
 suppose the natural understanding of men, in dif- 
 ferent stations of life, is, on an average, pretty 
 equal, and that education generally makes the 
 chief diflcrence ; and I have had an opportunity of 
 observing, that among those who enter on academi- 
 cal studies, (and reasoning is not much cultivated 
 in grammar-schools,) there is not one in some 
 scores who, with proper instructions, does not, in a 
 few days, grow capable of entering into the force of 
 Euclid's demonstrations. And I hope none will 
 have so little modesty as not readily to acknowledge, 
 that the reasonings by which Christianity is proved 
 in the plain pieces I referred to above, are much 
 easier, and less abstruse, than those relating to the 
 properties of mathematical figures to persons to 
 whom they are entirely new. Objections, there- 
 fore, taken from the supposed impossibility of 
 entering into the proofs offered, can only take place 
 with regard to persons who, when grown up, are so 
 unhappy as to want common sense; of whom it 
 cannot be supposed that either of us intend to 
 speak, in what we have said on either side of the 
 question in debate between us. 
 
 But you will not fail to remonstrate, as you have 
 already done at large, (p. 13, 14.) that supposing 
 the rational evidence of Christianity ever so intel- 
 ligible, it will at least require time for the most 
 candid inquirer to make himself master of it ; and 
 while he is pursuing it, he continues in a state of 
 extreme danger; because he is hesitating about 
 that, on an immediate compliance with which his 
 salvation depends. But to this, which really ap- 
 pears to me the most considerable difficulty you have 
 suggested, I beg leave to answer, that the exami- 
 nation requires not so much time as you would re- 
 present, and that while the mind is j)ursuing it, 
 there is no need at all that it should be in a state of 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1133 
 
 infidelity, and consequently, of dangjer as to its final 
 liappiness, if life should end before the examination 
 be finished. 
 
 You, Sir, I think, by one of the most palpable 
 sophisms that I have any where met with, every 
 where aflect to represent the case in question, as if 
 a man could have no rational evidence of Chris- 
 tianity, till he had inquired, on the one hand, into 
 every thing that could be said either to confirm, or 
 even to illustrate it ; and, on the other hand, info 
 every objection that has been brought against it. 
 And if this be not granted, all your flourishes (p. 
 61 — 63.) will be mere ornaments of wit and elo- 
 quence, entirely wide of the matter in debate. On 
 the contrai-y, it seems self-evident, that this is so far 
 from being necessary to make a rational and intel- 
 ligent Christian, that it is not necessary to constitute 
 an able and an accomplished divine. View it in 
 any other instance, and you cannot but allow what 
 I say. Would you maintain that a man cannot be 
 fit to practise as a lawyer, or a physician, till he has 
 read every thing that has been written in any con- 
 troversy relating to those professions? It would be 
 much more apparcntl}' absurd, to insist on this 
 polemical omniscience, (if I may be allowed the 
 expression,) in the case before us : since, at that 
 rate, a competent number of infidels might, without 
 urging one material argument, overthrow Chris- 
 tianity, supposing it in itself ever so rational, mere- 
 ly by writing a greater number of books about it 
 than any one man could be able to read. 
 
 On the whole, controversies relating to Chris- 
 tianity are endless ; but what is essential to the 
 proof of it lies within a very little room, and may be 
 set in so plain and easy a light, that a man may in 
 a few hours, with attentive thought, be competently 
 master of the argument. If indeed he desires 
 copiously and curiously to examine the particular 
 branches of it, he must allow proportionable time 
 and labour; but it is by no means necessary, 
 though yon. Sir, seem constantly to take it for grant- 
 ed, that he should be all this while in suspense as 
 to the truth of tlie gospel in general. Every topic 
 of argument is not so fundamental, astliatthe whole 
 evidence of Christianity should depend on that 
 topic; much less is every particular proof belong- 
 ing to each topic so ; and least of all, the circum- 
 stance of every particular proof. I might, for in- 
 stance, see great reason to believe Christianity to be 
 true, even though I knew nothing of its extraordi- 
 nary success and speedy propagation in the first 
 ages of the church : or I might be sure, that it was 
 early propagated tiirough vast tracts of land, with 
 circumstances which afford a strong conviction of 
 its truth, though I were yet to learn, whether it 
 reached India or Britain during those early days ; 
 and if it did, wheflicr the Christians of St. Thomas 
 received it from the apostlc'of that name, or our 
 
 happy island from St. Paul. I may be sure, that 
 Jesus was prophesied of in the Old Testament, 
 while I am entirely dubious how Daniel's weeks are 
 to be calculated ; nay, I may be uncertain as to 
 some niceties in the calculation, and yet be in 
 general sure, that the period they mark out is 
 elapsed, and that it ended much about the time of 
 Christ. 
 
 And as a consequence of all this it is evident, that 
 books on various topics relating to Christianity may 
 be highly valuable, and yet by no means necessary 
 to lay a rational foundation for our faith. They 
 may suggest new thoughts ; they may place argu- 
 ments urged many ages ago, in a clearer and more 
 beautiful light ; they may obviate difficulties, which 
 ingenious men have started, and artfully aggravat- 
 ed ; and thus they may demand the esteem and 
 gratitude of the Christian world, to which the learn- 
 ed and worthy authors of the Analogy between 
 Reason and Revelation, and of the Trial of the 
 Witnesses, are undoubtedly entitled ; and yet " the 
 evidence of the gospel, like its great Author, might 
 be the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever," not- 
 withstanding all you arc pleased so sluewdly to 
 insinuate on this head. (P. 20 — 22.) 
 
 liut waving this, which, though I thought it ne- 
 cessary to touch upon it here, relates not immedi- 
 ately to the case of common Christians, you will, I 
 doubt not, be ready to remind me, that let the evi- 
 dence to be oUcred to their consideration be ever so 
 short and ever so plain, yet some time must be taken 
 up in examining if, even that part of it which is most 
 essential ; and while that examination continues, 
 they must be in a state of dangerous hesitation ; 
 since to doubt the truth of Christianity is (accord- 
 ing to your representation of the matter) a damna- 
 ble apostasy from it. 
 
 In answer to this part of the objection, I am 
 compelled to say, that I apprehend there is in it a 
 complication of errors. I cannot, in the first place, 
 see how the failhof a Christian is utterly cancelled 
 by every doubt and suspicion which arises in his 
 mind. Our thoughts are not entirely at our com- 
 mand, and natural temper may sometimes sugge.st 
 fears, which reason can neither authorize nor ex- 
 clude. The humble Christian, conscious, on the 
 one hand, of the imperfection of his character, and 
 on the other, of the greatness of his hopes, may be 
 ready .sometimes to suspect, that the gospel is too 
 good news to be true. Now where will you find 
 your proofs, cither from Scripture or from reason, 
 that every such suspicion is an apostasy from the 
 faith, and that it is damnable thus to be tempted ? 
 
 But to cut the grand sinew of your objection, I 
 will presume to say, how widely soever it may differ 
 from the schemes you have formed on this subject, 
 that I apprehend a man may be rationally estab- 
 lished in the faith of the gospel, and may have can- 
 
1134 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 didly examined the evidences of it, without ccasinf? 
 to believe it wiiiic lie pursues that exaniiimtion ; 
 which I think may easily ai)|)ear from what I have 
 represented above, and 1 the rather repeat it, as 
 you. Sir, seem so studious to keep your reader from 
 one thought of it. 
 
 Having; once learnt what the gospel scheme is, 
 I can never doubt of its being admirably calculated 
 to elevate, to purify, and to strengthen the soul, to 
 lix it on God, and to open in it sentiments of the 
 most sincere and generous benevolence towards 
 men. Of this I am as sure, as that there is a gos- 
 pel scheme at all, or such a book as the New Tes- 
 tament existing in tiie world. Nor can I ever ques- 
 tion for a moment, after having read that admirable 
 book with attention, that there seem to be in it all 
 imaginable signs of integrity, piety, and goodness 
 in the heart of its writers. Both these will appear 
 strong presumptions of its truth and autiiority, and 
 such as would require cogent arguments on the 
 other side to balance them : arguments which, till 
 I hear, I see no reason to set myself to surmise. 
 And it is likely in theory, that a religion attended 
 with strong internal evidence, will not be left des- 
 titute of external, I shall set myself to examine into 
 that, under the apprehension of a strong probability 
 tliat it will turn out in favour of the gospel. 
 
 I remember indeed, that you somewhere speak 
 with sovereign contempt of " that inquiry, which is 
 intended with a shrewd foreboding how the matter 
 will end." But I must entreat you to ask yourself 
 again, whether it is not possible for the most im- 
 partial mind, in such cases, to have such forebod- 
 ings ; nay, whether it be always possible to avoid 
 them, even when entering on the most resolutely 
 impartial examination? Consider the matter in 
 subjects where the severest reasoning takes place, 
 and where there can be no interest to bribe the 
 assent, I mean, where mathematical theorems are 
 concerned. 
 
 I question not. Sir, but you have observed, if you 
 ever turn your thoughts this way at all, that there is 
 often an observable proportion in the figure of a 
 diagram, which leads a man to think the proposition 
 true, as soon as he reads it. Besides, that having 
 found demonstration attending all the former pro- 
 positions, suppose of Euclid, he naturally con- 
 cludes, he shall find it in the proposition in ques- 
 tion. He would not perhaps accept a bet of a 
 thousand guineas to one, against the force of a de- 
 monstration, wliich he has not yet studied ; and 
 which, notwithstanding this grand foreboding, he 
 shall be able as freely and fairly to canvass, as he 
 ever did any of tiic former. So little does there 
 seem in this part of the argument, which you have 
 pushed with so much eagerness and triumph. 
 
 But to return to the case of young persons, to be 
 instructed in the evidences of Christianity, the mat- 
 
 ter we were considering, and from whence my re- 
 gard to this favourite topic of yours led me to 
 digress a little too far: — I freely own, and leave 
 you. Sir, to make the best of the concession, I 
 would not have youth led into any doubts about 
 these matters, till their un<lerstandings arrive at a 
 strength and solidity capable of encountering with 
 them. I would not represent Christianity to my 
 catechumens, or my children, nor indeed to the most 
 intelligent and judicious of my hearers, as a dubi- 
 ous, uncertain thing, where the probabilities were 
 so equal, that it was quite precarious which way an 
 honest inquirer would see reason to determine. It 
 appears to my reason, and conscience, quite in 
 another point of light, as an evident and certain 
 truth, which I assuredly know ; in which I rejoice 
 as the anchor of my soul, and which I verily be- 
 lieve must be the salvation of theirs, if they are 
 saved at all. With these views it would be a hor- 
 rible iniquity in me, to speak slightly and dubious- 
 ly about it : yet I may, in a perfect consistence with 
 this persuasion, and with the declaration of it, re- 
 commend it to others, not as on my own authority, 
 but on the force of reasons, concerning the strength 
 of which they are to judge for themselves; though 
 I am ever so earnestly solicitous that they may 
 judge aright, as knowing how strictly they are to 
 answer for the integrity of their conduct in this 
 affair. 
 
 But here, I am well aware, you will glory over 
 me as convicted by my own confession. You will 
 tell me, that all this scheme of educating children 
 in Christian principles, and recommending them 
 with so much confidence and delight, is an avow- 
 ed method of prejudicing their minds strongly 
 on one side of the question, and utterly inconsistent 
 with any pretence of bringing them to a fair and 
 honest inquiry ; in order to which it is absolutely 
 necessary, that a man come to search after truth 
 without any preconceived opinion at all, and per- 
 fectly indifferent on which side he may happen to 
 find it. 
 
 This I confess. Sir, has a plausible sound, and is 
 a charming subject for a young academic, or a very 
 young preacher, if he has a mind to display his 
 talent at declamation: but after all, it is perfect 
 kniglit-errantry, and lays down a law to mankind, 
 which it is in many instances impossible they should 
 follow, and which of consequence can be neither 
 necessary nor reasonable. The affections of the 
 human mind may indeed be controlled, but they 
 cannot be extirpated ; nor is it needful men should 
 be insensible, in order to their being impartial. 
 Had Junius Brutus, when he saw his sons arraign- 
 ed before him for treason against their country, 
 been thus philosophically indillcrcnt whether they 
 were innocent or guilty, he had been the idiot he 
 ■formerly counterfeitc'd, or something worse than 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1135 
 
 that : and yet he did justice : and in other circum- 
 stances, with all the bowels of a father melting 
 over them, he might have been equally just in ac- 
 quitting them. A man may have strict reason for 
 assenting to what he has been taught from his very 
 infancy, and where the truth is greatly for his in- 
 terest ; or otherwise, who could have reason to 
 believe himself heir to a kingdom, or an estate ? A 
 man may, I hope, have reason to believe the being 
 of a God, yet who among us was not taught it from 
 a child ? or what virtuous mind does not see, that 
 all its happiness is concerned in the question ? 
 Who would not esteem it far worse than death, to 
 be brought to an apprehension that he lives iu a 
 fatherless world, and that all the resource which he 
 thought he had found in the guardianship of infi- 
 nite power, wisdom, and goodness, was but the 
 amusement of a pleasing dream ? 
 
 And while I am on this topic, give me leave to 
 touch on that notion, which some have entertained, 
 of leaving children untaught in religion, that they 
 may come unprejudiced to inquire into it: an ab- 
 surdity, surely, to be numbered among the greatest 
 which the adventurous infidelity of the present age 
 has started, or its implicit disciples have imbibed, 
 in open and perhaps boasted defiance of the com- 
 mon sense of mankind throughout all ages, nations, 
 and religions. And yet I am told, some wlio have 
 continued to call themselves Christians, have been 
 wild enough to admit it. With them indeed I 
 might justly cut short further debate, by urging, 
 what on their professed principles must be unan- 
 swerable, the most express authority' both of the 
 Jewish and Christian revelations, strongly requir- 
 ing that children should be brought up in an early 
 and familiar acquaintance with them. But for the 
 sake of others I would observe, and would entreat 
 every professed disciple of reason to consider, that 
 the notion of omitting an education in religion, to 
 avoid prejudice, is utterly inconsistent with itself. 
 For it is certain, as the world now goes, and every 
 infidel must surely in his conscience know it, that 
 if the children of Christians are not taught religion, 
 and trained up in the exercises of it, they will soon 
 learn vice and immorality, and then they will come 
 to inquire into the evidences of Christianity in time, 
 (if they ever made the inquiry at all,) with this 
 terrible prejudice on the negative side of the ques- 
 tion, " If Christianity be true, I am in a state of 
 condemnation, and an heir of everlasting ruin : 
 and I must relinquish all the dearest of my 
 pleasures, in pursuit of a pretended felicity, which 
 I had rather be annihilated tiian confined to." 
 
 And indeed. Sir, we would gladly know, if 
 children are not to be taught religion, on what 
 principles they are to be taught virtue. The philo- 
 sophical questions relating to the first principles, 
 and ultimate obligations, of morality, they can as 
 
 little understand as those of religion : and if they 
 are to be taught it, as in itself an amiable thing, 
 and a thing which their parents knew to be reason- 
 able, and conducive to their happiness, they may on 
 the like foundation be taught, to receive the gospel 
 as the word of God, and, according to their little 
 abilities, to worship, and live like Christians. 
 
 I think I may conclude this head with an appeal 
 to every man's conscience, whether it would be best 
 for society in general, that our children should be 
 taught Christianity in their early years ? Whether 
 the history of a life and character like that of the 
 blessed Jesus, be not one of the finest lessons they 
 can learn ? And whether an apprehension of our 
 obligations to him as our great Redeemer, who, as 
 the messenger and gift of his Father's love, taught 
 such excellent truths, and did and suffered so much 
 for our salvation, be not admirably calculated to 
 touch their tender hearts, and form them to humility, 
 gratitude, and love ? I hope, men of such lordly 
 and towering understandings, as our deists gene- 
 rally are, will at least condescend to own this of the 
 gospel, which wise men will reckon no small cir- 
 cumstance in its favour : and these gentlemen must 
 pardon me \s'ben I add, that had their own minds 
 been more deeply touched with it, their understand- 
 ings might have been more solid, in proportion to 
 the degree in which their own opinion of them had 
 been less exalted. 
 
 But should you allow this, you may still insist, 
 that, according to the scheme I have proposed, our 
 young Christian, in his most advanced stage, must 
 have very partial and imperfect views of the ques- 
 tion ; since I have supposed him chiefly to have 
 heard the advocates on one side, and have not made 
 the perusal of infidel writers, or an attendance upon 
 such catcchists, if such there be, any part of our 
 method. 
 
 It is here obvious to reply, that I have advised, 
 as young persons grow up towards manhood, to 
 give them some hints of the main objections which 
 are generally made to Christianity ; or at least some 
 view of the chief topics, from whence these objec- 
 tions are taken. A Christian parent, or minister, 
 will of course do this in such a manner, as to show 
 that there seems to him to be very little weight in 
 them, when compared with the evidence in favour 
 of our religion ; and this he may do in perfect con- 
 sistence with giving a plain and honest view of the 
 strength of the olyections, which to be sure he 
 ought to give, if he mentions it at all. 
 
 This may commonly suffice ; yet I readily acknow- 
 ledge, there are circumstances, in which it may be 
 very expedient to enter into a more particular de- 
 tail of objections and answers. This I take to be 
 especially the case of those, who are educated for 
 Ihe ministry ; and perhaps I might add, of gentle- 
 men intended for the practice of the law, and 
 
] 136 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 iiulcod, of all who.sc incomes can afford what is 
 commonly called a liberal education. The strong 
 temptations, to which such persons are generally 
 exposed, might, I think, require proportionable 
 antidotes ; at least I am persuaded, every consider- 
 ate person will acknowledge, that it is incumbent 
 on tliose who arc to be the teachers and guardians 
 of religion, to be well acquainted with its proofs ; 
 in order to wliich, let such, by all means, before 
 they appear in a pul)lic character, examine the 
 evidence on both sides. And whatever use they 
 may make of a tutor on this occasion, as to the 
 method and order of tlieir studies, and whatever 
 confidence they may place in his integrity and 
 capacities, let them not ac(|uiescc in whatever ab- 
 stracts he may give them of the objections which 
 our adversaries advance ; but let them attentively 
 peruse tiie most celebrated pieces, which have been 
 written by them ; and what they are, no man of 
 tolerable acquaintance with the world can be long- 
 to seek. Thus let them hear infidels pleading their 
 own cause ; at the same time weighing, which 
 justice and common sense will require, those an- 
 swers which have been returned by the learned 
 advocates for Christianity, in which our country, 
 above all others, has been so eminently happy. 
 
 Sad, indeed, is the drudgery our younger brethren 
 must go through, in reading such authors, as many 
 of those who have attacked religion ; as I well know 
 by my own painful and laborious experience. But 
 the conlirmation which their faith may receive, by 
 the very efforts made to overthrow it, will, I hope, 
 in many instances, be a suHicient reward. And as 
 these pieces, especially in the hand of second-rate 
 writers, contain little more than a confident and 
 unwearied repetition of the same objections, which 
 have been answered perhaps many scores and hun- 
 dreds of times, without taking any notice of those 
 replies; (which, whether it be owing to the learning 
 or the modesty of the authors, I will not undertake 
 to say ;) one who is ac(juainted with these contro- 
 versies will be able to despatch large volumes in a 
 little time, and will see that many of them need no 
 new answers. All which will be a circumstance of 
 some consolation under so tedious a task. 
 
 This, Sir, is a method in the education of young 
 ministers, which is practised, even among the pro- 
 testant dissenters, in the midst of those many dis- 
 advantages under which their tutors and students 
 labour; in several of whose little seminaries, to my 
 certain knowledge, the rational evidences of natural 
 and revealed religion, with such a view of the 
 objections against both, are as regularly and me- 
 thodically taught as logic or geometry, or any of 
 the other sciences : and with what superior advan- 
 tage this important branch of learning is cultivated 
 in our tv o celebrated universities, is not for me to 
 say, or perhaps to imagine. But as for the common 
 
 people, I hope none will be so unreasonable as to 
 insist upon it, that they should spend their money 
 for that which is not bread, or their labour for that 
 wiiich will yield them so little satisfaction, as a 
 course of polemics would in their circumstances do. 
 For (hem, the plain and practical method I have 
 olforcd above, seems abundantly sullicient. And if 
 objections come in tiicir way, which in this free age 
 may very probably happen, let them apply to those 
 who may be most like to answer them, and weigh 
 the answers seriously and impartially ; at the same 
 time humbly addressing the great Father of lights, 
 to lead them into all necessary truth, and to preserve 
 them from every dangerous mistake, in a matter of 
 such apparent moment: and, with these precautions, 
 reason and experience concur to teach me, that 
 their Christian friends need be in no pain for the 
 event. Their inquiries, as I before observed, may 
 be impartial, and their determinations rational, 
 without knowing every thing that has been said, on 
 one side, and on the other. And for them to remain 
 still undetermined, from any impertinent suspicion, 
 that somebody might have something to say wliich 
 they never heard, but which, if they knew it, might 
 be an invincible objection to Christianity, is a con- 
 duct into which no one will be like to fall, who is 
 not pretty heartily resolved to be an infidel at all 
 adventures. For if there be any good serjse in such 
 a turn of mind, it must be a foundation of universal 
 scepticism in all the all'airs of life, as well as reli- 
 gion ; and would be full as absurd, as if a jury 
 should refuse to give a verdict upon the evidence 
 they have already received, because it is possible 
 there may be some absent persons in the world, 
 who, if they were present, might give such informa- 
 tion as would turn the scale the contrary way. 
 
 On the whole, it seems to me strictly reasonable, 
 that as every man should seriously reflect on the 
 nature, genius, tendency, and evidence, of those 
 religious principles in which he has been brought 
 up ; so he should continue to adhere to them, till 
 he sees an evidence against it, at least equal to that 
 which he has for it. And I further apprehend, that 
 there are certain degrees of evidence attending many 
 truths, of one kind and another, moral and religious, 
 as well as mathematical, in which a candid and 
 upright man may see reason to acquiesce, with- 
 out giving himself perpetual trouble in renewing 
 his inquiries as long as he lives ; and concerning 
 vv hi<'h he may have a rational apprehension, that he 
 shall never meet with any thing to be urged against 
 them, which is worthy of his notice, unless it should 
 be for the sake of others, rather than for his own. 
 Whether this be not the case with regard to Chris- 
 tianity, every one must judge for himself, as in the 
 .sight of God, and on a review of the information he 
 has gained with respect to it. Yet it is possible, 
 that when his judgment is thus determined in its 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, 8tc, 
 
 1137 
 
 favour, objections against it may afterwards occur to 
 him, which though he does not seek, he may not be 
 able to avoid hearing. Of these, some may be such, 
 as he has already weighed in the balance, and 
 found wanting : others may immediately appear to 
 affect only what is circumstantial, in the evidence 
 on which he has already yielded his assent, and not 
 what is essential to it ; or at most, but a small part 
 of the evidence, which, if it were to be given up, 
 the main strength of the various and complex argu- 
 ment in which he before acquiesced, might remain 
 secure ; as for instance, the meaning of some par- 
 ticular prophecy which he thought to refer to Christ, 
 or the like. Now I apprehend, that by far the 
 greater part of what is commonly advanced against 
 Christianity, perhaps nineteen objections in twenty, 
 will, to one well instructed and experienced in 
 religion, be reducible to one or other of these 
 heads. As for those which fall under neither of 
 them, I doubt not but they will soon appear to be 
 built on some ignorance or misrepresentation of the 
 plan of revelation, which will, I hope, never want 
 pious and learned votaries, capable of defending it, 
 and of turning the difficulties urged against it, or 
 the manner in which they are treated, into occasions 
 of adding increasing lustre to its proofs, and, per- 
 haps, into arguments in its favour ; as the world 
 has already seen in frequent instances. 
 
 The chief remaining objection is, that, according 
 to the plan laid down above, we shall have our 
 faith built upon mere human testimony, which you, 
 Sir, represent as a most fallacious and uncertain 
 thing, utterly unfit to be the foundation of so im- 
 portant a superstructure. It is by no means neces- 
 sary here to repeat all the diminutive things, which 
 you are pleased to say of human testimony, without 
 any distinction, and with as much severity, as if 
 you judged of it in general, by what you may 
 have found in some deistical writings. It all 
 centres in depreciating its validity; and the reader 
 will soon see, how far it is to be regarded, as 
 just in itself, or as applicable to the present oc- 
 casion. 
 
 And here I must, in the first place, remind you, 
 that the article now in question docs not at all con- 
 cern, or aflect, tiie internal evidence of Chiis- 
 tianity, which of itself alone is a very considerable 
 thing; especially when it is considered, how pro- 
 bable it is, that God might favour the world with a 
 revelation, which in its present condition it so evi- 
 dently needs. It is not on testimony that I believe 
 there is such a book as the Bible in the world. I 
 see it, and read it ; and that it is in the main rightly 
 translated, even an illiterate Christian among us 
 may be sure ; because if there had been any gross 
 prevarication in this respect, considering the variety 
 of sects among us, clamours must have arisen, 
 which he sees in fact do not arise, between the con- 
 4 D 
 
 tending parties ; as I have elsewhere argued more 
 at large.* And therefore all the proofs of the 
 divine authority of this book, that arise from its 
 contexture, design, harmony, and efiicacy, which I 
 mentioned above, are quite independent, even on 
 that human testimony, on which its genuineness 
 depends, and are built on sense, observation, and 
 experience. 
 
 There are indeed other, and those I confess very 
 material, proofs of Christianity, in which some con- 
 siderable regard to human testimony is absolutely 
 necessary : but before we further discuss these, 
 give me leave to ask you, Sir, Will you, or any 
 man of candour or common sense, venture to assert, 
 that we are in no circumstances obliged to admit 
 the truth of any fact on the testimony of other 
 men ? You cannot but know, how often the con- 
 trary has been demonstrated, by all our best writers 
 on this subject: nay, I think you cannot but see, 
 at the first glance, the glaring absurdity of such a 
 principle. Does not the course of human life every 
 day declare, what is, and must be, the sense of 
 mankind with regard to this ? Are not things of 
 the utmost importance, in which not only the estates 
 and lives of particular persons, but Ihe interests of 
 whole nations, are concerned, undertaken and deter- 
 mined on the credit of testimony ? and is it not 
 absolutely necessary, they should turn upon it ? 
 How dishonest then, and how shameful, would it 
 be to assert, that it is to be regarded in other things 
 of the greatest moment, but not in those which re- 
 late to the support of the gospel. 
 
 If there be any thing particular in that evidence 
 to which we appeal on this occasion, which renders 
 it unworthy of regard, let our adversaries show it 
 plainly. You will not, Sir, I am persuaded, think 
 fit to assert, that every fact must of course be given 
 up, which is said to have happened almost two 
 thousand years ago : or that we can never be sure 
 that books are genuine which pretend to such anti- 
 quity as that. Are all the classics of Greece and 
 Rome spurious ? Or is it to be numbered among 
 the uncertainties of anti(|uily, whether Cyrus con- 
 quered Babylon, and whether Julius Caesar was 
 a.ssassinafcd in the senate ? These facts arc of more 
 ancient date than any which are asserted in the 
 New Testament : yet, arc you a sceptic with regard 
 to them? Were you as sure that you should be pos- 
 sessed of all imaginable happiness for a million of 
 years, as you are of the one or other of these things, 
 would you entertain any afilictive doubt with regard 
 to it? or would you risk what you were to hold by 
 such a tenure, for the certain enjoyment of any 
 thing in mortal life ? A man's own heart easily 
 answers him such questions as these : and yet the 
 testimony in support of Christianity is slighted, 
 though it is most easy to show, that it is far superior 
 
 * See Sermons on tlie Power and Gr.icc of Clirist, &:c. Scr. vjii. 
 
1 13S 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 to tlint by wliicli we .tic informed of Cyrus's con- 
 4|ucsts, or of Ctrsar's dcatli. 
 
 The only remaining question, therefore, on this 
 head, is not eonccrning the learned, but common. 
 Christians, and the rational satisfaction wliich tliey 
 are capable of receiving, witli regard to these facts, 
 on which the external evidences of Cinistianity 
 depend. And Iiere I doubt not but they may receive 
 competent satisfaction ; that is, they may see much 
 greater reason to believe them than they can pos- 
 sibly have to reject them ; which is all the matter 
 requires. 
 
 To evince this, let us consider what those facts 
 are on which their reasonings, with respect to the 
 external evidence, depend ; for that is properly the 
 precise question. And they are cliiefly these: tiiat 
 there was such a person as Jesus Christ,- — who 
 founded a religion, — which was received by multi- 
 tudes of people quickly after his death ; (i. e. about 
 1700 years ago ;) — many of which converts testified 
 their firm persuasion of its truth by enduring great 
 extremities in its defence : — that among these an- 
 cient Christians there were such persons as the 
 evangelists and apostles, — who wrote the chief 
 books of the New Testament ; — which books are, in 
 the main, transmitted safely and faithfully down to 
 us: — as also, that when Christ and his apostles 
 lived, the Jews did subsist as a people, — and had 
 in their hands books which they accounted sacred, 
 — in the main the same with those which we now 
 call the Old Testament. 
 
 These, Sir, are the grand facts, which we prove 
 by testimony, and with which we connect our rea- 
 sonings in favour of the gospel. What the testimony 
 is by which we confirm these facts, and what the 
 connexion by which we infer Christianity from 
 them, I (among many others) have elsewhere 
 show n at large ; and I have too much other business, 
 and too much with you in particular before me, to 
 swell this letter by so unnecessary a repetition. 
 
 Now, with regard to common Christians, of 
 whose attainable satisfaction we are treating, I 
 readily ow n, they cannot be fully masters of that 
 evidence which learned men may receive of these 
 facts, by consulting the original writers : yet they 
 are certainly capable of knowing something of con- 
 siderable importance even on this head, where 
 their disadvantages must be acknowledged the 
 greatest of all. Every plain reader sees many an- 
 cient authors quoted, as testifying such and such 
 things, and perhaps sees at the bottom of the page 
 characters or words which he cannot understand ; 
 but he reads the supposed sense of them in English, 
 and is told, if the book be properly written, about 
 what lime the author produced is said to have lived. 
 Now, it can never enter into his heart to imagine, 
 that, in an enlightened age. Christian divines, pub- 
 lishing their names with their works, or if they do 
 
 not, seeming zealous for Christianity, would have 
 so little regard to themselves, or their cause, as to 
 pretend to quote such passages, unless the books 
 from whence they were taken were certainly extant; 
 and the pa.ssages to be found there, containing the 
 scn.sc which they give them. The matter does not 
 by any means rest upon our personal integrity: 
 (though, 1 hope, in reporting a fact, some regard 
 might be paid to that:) Mere the defenders of 
 Christianity ever so dishonest, it cannot be imagined 
 they would obtrude such palpable falsehoods on 
 the world, while so liable to be contradicted, and 
 ashamed, by those who disbelieve the gospel, and 
 make it tlie great, though wretched, business of 
 their lives, to oppose it to the utmost of their power, 
 and to revile its preachers and defenders. But are 
 these assertions of ours, as to the passages in ques- 
 tion, contradicted ? Where is the deist who will 
 dare to say, that Christianity is not an ancient 
 religion ; that it did not arise and spread about the 
 time I have mentioned ; or that its professors did 
 not early suffer in its defence ? Where is the man 
 who will venture to assert, that the most material 
 books of the New Testament were not early re- 
 ceived by Christians : or that the authors in which 
 we assert, that we find quotations from them, and 
 references to them, did not really live in the ages 
 and places we assert? Our books are open: and 
 the facts and testimonies on which we build our 
 reasonings, are liable to be examined with all pos- 
 sible freedom by our enemies as well as our friends. 
 If we have recourse to any pious frauds, (as they 
 are scandalously called,) let those frauds be de- 
 tected ; and, in the name of the God of truth, let 
 them be hissed out of the world with a just abhor- 
 rence. But the contrary is so plain, that there is 
 not an infidel in our land, that will presume to 
 oppose the evidence of these things, and to set his 
 name to such an attempt : nay, either some remains 
 of modesty, or a consciousness of the hurt which 
 their cause would receive from so shameless a de- 
 fence, prevents even anonymous authors from 
 attacking us here. The controversy is concerning 
 the consequences drawn from these acknowledged 
 facts ; (that Christianity was an ancient religion, 
 and the New Testament early received, &c.) Now, 
 of these consequences the common people are them- 
 selves judges, on principles laid down above; and 
 they do not admit them because we, or any others, 
 assert them to follow. 
 
 And here. Sir, I cannot forbear admiring the wis- 
 dom of Divine Providence, in permitting such per- 
 verse opposition to the gospel to arise, and continue: 
 since even its avowed enemies, by the nature and 
 manner of their attack, serve but more effectually 
 to confirm the faith of impartial and intelligent in- 
 quirers, and give an authority and evidence which 
 the teachers of Christianity assert, in some measure 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1139 
 
 beyond what it could otherwise have had. Just as 
 another kind of infidels, I mean the Jews, are also 
 vouchers for the antiquity and authority of the Old 
 Testament, on which so many of our arguments de- 
 pend ; and those arguments of such validity, that, 
 as Mr. Addison well concluded, many who now 
 dispute against the application of its prophecies to 
 Christ, would, no doubt, have concluded them a 
 Christi-an forgery, and have argued that conclusion 
 from the perspicuity of those prophecies, had not 
 Providence laid in so incontestable a proof to the 
 contrary. " The wrath of man, O Lord, shall praise 
 thee ; and the remainder of that wrath shalt thou 
 restrain." I must on the same principle congratu- 
 late the happiness of our own country, in which 
 such liberty is allowed, of proposing whatever can 
 be said against Christianity ; in consequence of 
 which our modern infidels are deprived of that 
 shrewd pretence, which perhaps might be more 
 serviceable to them than all the rest of their wea- 
 pons, that they could say something convincing 
 against it, if penal laws did not deter them. 
 
 I hope. Sir, these things will evince, that the com- 
 mon people may have some considerable degrees of 
 evidence for those facts, on which the external proofs 
 of Christianity are built, though they are not capa- 
 ble of consulting the original records from whence 
 they are taken. But I must not dismiss the subject, 
 till I have considered an objection, which equally 
 concerns the most learned Christian : I mean, that 
 none of the most rational arguments, in their clear- 
 est and strongest view, can give the mind satisfac- 
 tion ; — or at least can produce such a degree of 
 persuasion, as should animate us to subdue our 
 passions, — or to endure those extremities in defence 
 of our religion, which we may possibly meet with, 
 and which it indispensably requires us to bear. 
 
 You make these three distinct topics ; but the 
 former is so evidently included in the two latter, 
 that all I shall say to it at present is, that every man 
 who will rellect in his own mind, must find, that 
 there are degrees of rational proof in which he ac- 
 quiesces with entire satisfaction. Many Christians 
 testify this to be the case, with regard to the argu- 
 ments in favour of Christianity, of which great 
 number I must declare myself one ; and any one 
 who finds himself dissatisfied, will do well to give 
 his reasons for that dissatisfaction, without making 
 his own case a standard, by which to pronounce on 
 that of every one else. You argue, as if there were 
 no medium between an implicit faith, and perpe- 
 tual scepticism ; but the conclusion is very hastily 
 drawn. You, Sir, may perhaps have known some, 
 who have gradually quitted all religious principles, 
 when they had begun to examine any ; I, on the 
 contrary, have known many who have professed 
 themselves to have been greatly confirmed in Chris- 
 tianity by such examination ; they have found its 
 1 D 2 
 
 evidences, like gold, approved by the severest trials ; 
 and it is to me utterly unimaginable how a rational 
 believer should be incapable of finding complacency 
 and satisfaction of mind, in having used his rational 
 faculties on so important an occasion. 
 
 Waving therefore all further debate upon this, I 
 shall proceed to what you add under the two re- 
 maining parts of this argument ; (p. 30 — 35.) in 
 which you undertake to show, that " no conviction 
 drawn from reasoning can ever have force enough 
 to command our passions, so as on common emer- 
 gencies " (they are your own extraordinary words) 
 " to make a good Christian, — much less will it 
 serve to produce a faithful martyr, if ever so severe 
 an exercise be demanded at our hands." You em- 
 ploy a great deal of rhetoric on this subject, in the 
 pages referred to above : but I am sorry to say, that, 
 so far as I can judge, it amounts only to this, 
 " That you apprehend something so extremely de- 
 sirable in the indulgences which Christianity pro- 
 hibits, and something so terrible in death, in what- 
 ever view and cause it is to be encountered, that no 
 rational argument imaginable can induce a man to 
 give up the one, and expose himself to tlie other." 
 
 And is it possible. Sir, that sensual pleasure, and 
 mortal life purchased at the expence of honour, 
 gratitude, and conscience, can indeed appear so 
 exceeding valuable ? 1 would not wrong your 
 moral character so much, as to suppose, that you 
 seriously meant this, and will abide by it ; and yet 
 it is diflicult to imagine, how it could be w ritten 
 otherwise than seriously, without bearing hard on 
 another part of your moial character too. I will 
 leave it among the other mysteries of your book, 
 and content myself with hinting at those reasons, 
 for which the matter appears to me in a (|uite con- 
 trary view ; as I am persuaded, it would have done 
 to Socrates, Seneca, or Epictetus, had they con- 
 sidered it only in theory. 
 
 No paradox in human nature appears to mc so 
 strange, as that a man, who in his conscience be- 
 lieves, that the arguments in favour of Christianity 
 are unanswerably strong, should deliberately allow 
 himself in the violation of its precepts; or should, 
 by any temporal considerations whatsoever, be in- 
 duced to renounce it. All the pleas of duty, gra- 
 titude, and interest, are .so weighty in favour of a 
 constant and resolute subjection to it, that one could 
 hardly imagine, did not fact demonstrate the con- 
 trary, that any temptation of allurement, or of terror, 
 should, w ith a rational creature, who believed the 
 gospel, triumph over them. 
 
 Nor is a life of Christian obedience that violent 
 and con.straincd thing, which you seem to suppose. 
 Were I to judge by these pages alone, I should 
 imagine you had never read the New Testament, 
 and did not know how the views of a Christian are 
 animated and raised. O, Sir, the rational believer 
 
1140 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 is ill Ills licart and conscience persuaded, tliat, to 
 all the bounties of liis common providence, God 
 lias added the riches of redeeming love. He is 
 fully persuaded that the Son of God descended from 
 heaven, to deliver him from everlastin<^ ruin ; that 
 he has <;enerously purchased him with the price of 
 his own blood ; and that (if lie he conscious of a 
 true faitli in l>im) (Christ has taken him as his 
 peculiar property under his guardian care, with a 
 trraeious purpose of conduetinp; him safely through 
 life and death, of rcceivina; his nobler part in a very 
 little time into the abode of holy and happy spirits, 
 and at length of raising his body from the dust, and 
 fixing his complete person in a state of immortal 
 glory and felicity. Now when this is really believ- 
 ed, and the conviction is firm and lively, (which I 
 hope a rational conviction may very possil)ly be,) 
 what can be a more natural cd'ect, than that an 
 ardent love to God our Father, and to the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, should be excited by it ! And it is 
 easy to imagine, that this love must make obedience 
 eas3' : and when the mind is taken up with such 
 sublime and delightful views, and those devotional 
 exercises which is so natural to ingraft upon tliem, 
 it will not be so hard a matter as many seem to 
 imagine, to conquer the irregular propensities of 
 animal nature, or the exorbitances of passion, where 
 only the little enjoyments and interests of this tran- 
 sitory life are concerned. Or rather, many of those 
 exorbitances will be superseded, or, as the apostle 
 justly and finely expresses it, crucified by the cross 
 of Christ ; and the affections, without any painful 
 struggle, will generally flow on in an orderly and 
 pleasant channel. 
 
 And where this is the temper and character, mar- 
 tyrdom may not appear so dreadful a thing, as you, 
 Sir, liave taken pains to represent it. It may rather 
 be the habitual judgment of such a Christian, that 
 it is to be esteemed an honour and favour, which 
 our great Lord bestows on some of his most be- 
 loved servants. To be excused from the melan- 
 choly circumstances attending death in its natural 
 form ; to have an opportunity of turning the com- 
 mon lot of mortality into an occasion of manifesting 
 heroic gratitude and fidelity to the best of Masters 
 and of Friends; to die with those warm sentiments 
 and elevated views which such a condition so 
 naturally tends to excite and suggest; would not 
 surely be, as you seem to insinuate, the death of a 
 fool : (which I cannot think even that of Socrates to 
 have been :) surely. Sir, on second thouglits, you 
 must rather judge it a consummation of labours, 
 cares, and sorrows, inseparable from human life, to 
 be devoutly wished for, rather than dreaded. I will 
 on the otlier hand grant, that hellish acts of cruelty 
 may be invented and practised, under which the 
 resolution of an upright mind may faint, and even 
 reason itself be overborne, unless God were pleased 
 
 to interpose by extraordinary supports, which there 
 is great encouragement to hope he would in such a 
 case do : but while reason remains undisturbed, I 
 should imagine, that death in its most horrible form, 
 when met in the cause of such a Saviour, who had 
 so graciously borne it for us, should appear more 
 desirable than life in its most agreeable circum- 
 stances ; and surely, then, infinitely more desirable 
 than life purchased by base ingratitude to him, and 
 worn out under the sense of his just displeasure, 
 and the sad prospect of being finally disowned by 
 him, as an apostate and a traitor. 
 
 This I think to be solid reason ; and I bless 
 God, there are numberless facts which confirm it, 
 and show that persons not pretending to any such im- 
 mediate revelation as you assert to be necessary, 
 have conquered the greatest difficulties on these 
 principles, and, after having adorned the gospel by 
 a most exemplary and holy life, have steadily and 
 cheerfully sealed it with their blood. And every 
 fact of this kind is so unanswerable an argument 
 against all that you allege here, that I do not 
 judge it necessary to pursue this part of my plan 
 any further. 
 
 With this therefore I conclude what I had to 
 ofier in vindication of the perspicuity and solidity 
 of those arguments in proof of C'.iristianity, to 
 which the generality of its professors among us may 
 attain : and I hope it will be allowed, that I have 
 fairly and candidly, as well as seriously, considered 
 what you object against it, and so have answered 
 the first part of your pamphlet, which I take to be 
 by far the most plausible and dangerous. 
 
 Your endeavour to prove, that Christianity itself 
 avows, that it is not built upon argument, but on a 
 revelation to be immediately made from the Spirit 
 of God to every Christian, by which all argument is 
 superseded, and all possibility of doubt and error 
 excluded, is such a direct contradiction to the 
 whole tenor of the New Testament, that I hardly 
 think you would be understood seriously to mean it. 
 It is sufficient that you have .shown, you have wit 
 enough to give a varnish to so wild a notion. Yet 
 lest any should be so weak as to imagine there is 
 any solidity in what you have so adventurously ad- 
 vanced on that head, 1 am w illing plainly to discuss 
 it with you ; and at the same time to inquire into 
 what you say, with regard to the awful sentence 
 which the gospel passes on those who reject it : a 
 circumstance which you every where represent as 
 totally irreconcilable with a religion to be ration- 
 ally proved and defended ; but which, on the con- 
 trary, appears to me most wisely adapted to the rest 
 of the scheme, and, when compared with it, an 
 addition rather than abatement of its infernal evi- 
 dence. This, and several other particulars in yours, 
 I should be glad to examine ; but I wave it at pre- 
 sent, because this letter is already swelled to a 
 
 I 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1141 
 
 pretty large size. I therefore reserve what I have 
 further to say to another opportunity, and I hope a 
 few weeks more may afford it. But I choose to 
 send you what I have already written, without any 
 further delay; because I am conscious of the many 
 hinderances, which, in a life like mine, oblige me 
 often to postpone, much longer than I intended, the 
 execution of attempts to do what little I can towards 
 serving the world, by promoting the interest of 
 Christianity in it ; and because I really think your 
 piece has been already too long unanswered. If 
 you please to offer any thing in reply to what I have 
 here proposed, I shall give it a serious considera- 
 tion : and hope that I shall, in the whole coarse of 
 this controvers}-, endeavour to write like a Chris- 
 tian, and then I shall not forget any other character 
 which I could wish to maintain. At present. Sir, I 
 conclude with assuring you, that it is with sensil)le 
 regret I have found myself obliged, for the honour of 
 the gospel, and the preservation of men's souls, to 
 animadvert on what you have written, in the manner 
 I have already done. Should you prove, which may 
 possibly be the case, some old acquaintance and 
 friend, I hope I have written nothing which should 
 make me blush at any interview with you ; and 
 should you, as I rather apprehend, be an entire 
 stranger, I am, on the common principles of that 
 faith, which it is the great glory of my life to pro- 
 fess and defend, with sincere good wishes for your 
 temporal and eternal happiness, in any thing which 
 may conduce to either, 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Your obedient humble servant, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Northampton, Nov. 5, 1742. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Though my former Letter considered what I 
 thought most essential in your late treatise, yet 
 there are several otlicr things in it, whicli, however 
 designed, have .so plain a tendency to expose Chris- 
 tianity to suspicion, and even to contempt, that on 
 the principles which led me to animadvert upon it 
 before, I find myself obliged to give you this second 
 trouble. 
 
 I proceed therefore without any further cere- 
 mony, to consider the pains you have taken, under 
 the second general head of your tract, to represent 
 the gospel as pleading guilty to the charge of not 
 being founded on argument; or in other words, not 
 being generally capable of such rational proof, as 
 its disciples may be able to receive. 
 
 You would seem indeed, if one may judge by 
 your manner of introducing this topic, to think tliis 
 is doing great kindness to the New Testament, as it 
 delivers it from the absurdity of saying, " Judge 
 whether you have time or not; — judge whether 
 you are judges, or not ; — judge all for yourselves, 
 and yet judge all alike." (P. 35.) But I hope, Sir, 
 before I have finished my letter, to show, that all, 
 whom we can suppose to be concerned in any de- 
 mand of judging, i. e. all persons of coinmon un- 
 derstanding, to whom the gospel is, or has been, 
 faithfully and intelligibly preached, can have no 
 just plea from the want of time, or capacity, and 
 must, on the supposition of an honest and diligent 
 inquiry, all judge alike, i. e. all agree in receiving 
 it as a divine revelation. 
 
 To illustrate and confirm the view you have given 
 of the matter, you undertake to show, — that Christ 
 did not propose his doctrines to examination ; (p. 
 36 — 38.) — that his apostles had neither leisure, nor 
 qualifications, for such a method, i. e. for the use 
 of reasoning and argument in the propagation of 
 the gospel, (p. 38 — 40.) — and that the very supposi- 
 tion of such a proceeding is evidently preposterous 
 from the nature of the thing. (P. 41 — 16.) In op- 
 position to all which, it is one of the easiest tasks 
 one can imagine, to show, — -that Christ did propose 
 the great doctrines he taught to examination ; that 
 the apostles did the same, urging (as their blessed 
 Master had done) most cogent arguments in the 
 proof of them ; — and that any other method of pro- 
 ceeding had been preposterous, and must necessa- 
 rily have exposed the gospel to the contempt of all 
 reasonable people. It seems hard, indeed, to be 
 put upon proving things so conspicuous as these ; 
 and it cannot but be some trial of temper to one 
 who honours and loves the gospel, to see it, and its 
 glorious founders, placed in so ridiculous a view, 
 as that in which your assertions and arguments re- 
 present them ; that is, described as wild enthusiasts, 
 running all over the world, at the expense of their 
 own lives, to urge men, on pain of damnation, to 
 receive a religion, for which they did not pretend 
 to give them any reason. But out of respect both 
 to you, and the cause in which I am engaged, I 
 will keep myself as calm as I can. And if some 
 following pages seem to my reader unnecessary, 
 I must beg him to distinguish between what was 
 needful to inform him, and what was requisite to 
 confute you. 
 
 But before I proceed to hint at the evident proof 
 of the three propositions, which, in opposition to 
 yours, I have laid down above, I beg leave to pre- 
 mise, that all you say on this subject seems to me 
 founded on an artful and sophistical sliifting the 
 question. The grand matter in debate is, whether 
 (Christianity is founded on rational argument; or 
 whether the only cause, which a professor of thp 
 
1142 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 JTospol can {jcnorallv liave to give for his belief of 
 it, must be, that (Jod has imiuediatcly revealed it 
 to him by his Sjiirit. and testified the truth of it to 
 him in a manner, which as, on tlie one hand, he 
 cannot suspect, so, on the other hand, he cannot 
 comnuinirate or explain ? Instead of discussing 
 tliis question, you put off tlie reader with another 
 very dilferent, (p. tiO.) Whether Clirist and his 
 aposdes submitted tlu-ir doctrine to examination? 
 w liich is a very ambijjuous manner of spcakinj;; ; 
 and when you assert that tlicy did not, I must beg 
 leave to ask, what you mean by their doctrine? Do 
 you mean this general doctrine, that they were 
 teachers sent from God ? Or do you mean those 
 particular doctrines, which in consequence of that 
 general assertion they proceeded to teach ? If you 
 mean tlie former, it is indeed to your purpose; but, 
 as I sliall presently show, is a proposition entirely 
 and notoriously false. But if you mean the latter, 
 wliich the course of your arguments seems to imply, 
 then it is foreign to your purpose : for Christianity 
 may be founded on rational argument, though tlie ' 
 first teachers of it, when they had proved their 
 mission, should have put the credit of particular 
 doctrines on their own authorized testimony alone, 
 without discussing the several branches of their 
 system, in such a manner as it would liave been 
 necessary they should liave done, had they pro- 
 posed it only as a theory, destitute of external 
 proofs. 
 
 Now that our Lord Jesus Christ did not expect, 
 that it should be believed merely on his own testi- 
 mony, that he was a teacher sent from God, and 
 one whose doctrine was consequently true and 
 divine, but set himself to prove it, is so evident 
 from the history of the evangelists, that I believe 
 few readers need so mucli as to be reminded of par- 
 ticular passages on tiiis head. No words can be 
 more express than those, in which he has disclaim- 
 ed this. If (says he) I bear testimony of myself 
 alone, my testimony is not true or valid ; but my 
 Father who hath sent, he beareth testimony to me. 
 And you well know, that he illustrated and argued 
 tliis testimony of the Father, partly from the pre- 
 dictions of those sacred writings which they acknow- 
 ledged to be the word of God, in which Jesus 
 declared he w as described and foretold ; and partly 
 from the attestation of John, whom they generally 
 acknowledged to be a divinely inspired prophet; 
 but principally, from a yet more sensible argument 
 than either, the works which the Father had given 
 him to perform, and vvhich (said he) bear witness 
 of me. And all these he represents as illustrated 
 by the excellent design and tendency of his preach- 
 ing, to which he plainly refers, when he says, the 
 word which I have spoken, shall judge the unbe- 
 liever another day. 
 
 These were various and cogent arguments ; some 
 
 of them so very plain, that one single day, or hour, 
 might make a man master of them : I mean, that 
 arising from his miraculous powers, and the tend- 
 ency of his doctrines to promote real goodness. 
 The argument from John's testimony was, even by 
 the confession of his enemies, known to all the 
 nation ; and as for that from prophecy, he submitted 
 it to their candid and deliberate examination, urging 
 tiiem to search the Scriptures, and assuring them 
 tliat if they did so, they would there lind a convinc- 
 ing testimony concerning him, which was to shine 
 with growing evidence. And on the whole, he 
 expostulates with them, in language utterly irre- 
 concilable with your scheme ; And why, even of 
 yourselves, from plain appearances, and without 
 further explications and remonstrances from me, 
 judge you not that which is right ? pleading that 
 the signs of the times, marking them out to be those 
 of the Messiah, were as discernible as those of the 
 prognostications of the weather, which all the world 
 had observed, and formed into common proverbs. 
 I So that, in consequence of all, their continued un- 
 belief, in the midst of so many united testimonies 
 and palpable proofs, was not only an irrational and 
 criminal, but a most inexcusable, thing. If I had 
 not (says he) come and spoken unto them, and 
 done among them the works which no other man 
 did, though their disobedience to the law of God 
 had been justly punisliable, yet, in comparison of 
 their present case, they had not had sin ; but now, 
 they have no cloak for their sin. Could they have 
 pleaded, as you, Sir, it seems, would have taught 
 them to do, " We never had any reason offered to 
 bring us to believe ;" I suppose, it w ould liave been 
 no despicable cloak for their infidelity. I cannot 
 forbear saying, that it is a grievous outrage upon 
 the character of our blessed Redeemer, to suppose 
 him capable of talking in so wild, so false, and so 
 inconsistent a manner, as this wretched hypothesis 
 would imply. I should have too great a respect for 
 the memory of Socrates, to advance, or admit, any 
 thing so injurious to it. 
 
 That the apostles also reasoned in the defence of 
 their mission, is as certain, as that they preached 
 and wrote; and indeed the fifth book of the New 
 Testament is almost as much the history of their 
 reasonings, as of their acts. The second chapter 
 contains an account of their reasoning at Jerusalem, 
 from the fact of the miraculous descent of the Holy 
 (Jhost upon them, in comj>arison with the predic- 
 tions of the (Jld Testament, both with respect to 
 that, and to the resurrection of Jesus ; from whence 
 they strongly infer, that all the house of Israel 
 might know assuredly, that God had made that 
 same Jesus whom they had crucified both Lord and 
 Clirist. The third, fourth, and fifth chapters, relate 
 their reasonings before the people and the Sanhe- 
 drim, from the cure of the lame man in the temple, 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1143 
 
 as wrought in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, whom 
 tlicy had crucified. And it would be tedious, ratlier 
 than nccess-ary, to continue the enumeration of par- 
 ticular passages, in which we read of Paul's reason- 
 ing in confirmation of these great points ; as we are 
 fold he did at Damascus, at Jerusalem, at Antioch 
 in Pisidia, and particularly at Thessalonica, where 
 ■when his reasoning with the Jews out of the Scrip- 
 tures for three successive sabbaths is spoken of, it 
 is said to have been as his manner was. You can- 
 not but know, that as he continued this practice at 
 Bera-a, the inhabitants of that place are greatly 
 commended, for examining the force of his argu- 
 ments, and searching the Scriptures daily, whether 
 those things w ere so. His reasoning with the phi- 
 losophers at Athens, from natural principles, to 
 demonstrate the absurdity of image worsliip, is so 
 conclusive and so noble, that I cannot suppose it 
 to have escaped your notice or memory. I am 
 sorry to be under a necessity of reminding you, that 
 at Corinth, where ho continued for a year and a 
 half, he reasoned in the synagogue every sabbath, 
 at least for a considerable part of that time ; that 
 at EphesHS, lie preached in the synagogue for the 
 space of tliree months, disputing and persuading 
 the things concerning the kingdom of God ; and 
 after this, having separated the disciples, he dis- 
 puted daily in the school of one Tyrannus, con- 
 tinuing this practice for the spa(;e of two years; 
 that he made his defence with great presence of 
 mind, before the Jews at Jerusalem ; that he rea- 
 soned with Felix of righteousness, temperance, and 
 judgment to come, in such a manner that he made 
 him tremble, and pleaded with sucli strength of 
 argument before Agrippa, that lie almost persuaded 
 him to be a Christian. And tiie history closes with 
 his appointing a day to the Jews at Home, in which 
 they attended him at his lodging, and he expound- 
 ed and testified the kingdom of God, persuading 
 them concerning Jesus, both out of the law and out 
 of the prophets, from morning till evening. What 
 the force and validity of these reasonings were, is 
 not at all the question between us: it is sufficient, 
 that the passages referred to demonstrate, that rea- 
 sonings were used, and objections heard, directly 
 contrary to what you. Sir, have been plcase<l to 
 assert, (p. 39.) with as much confidence, as if you 
 had never read these passages, or never expected 
 that wliat you have written .should be compared 
 with the records to which you appeal. 
 
 It is equally easy to show, that the apostles rea- 
 son in their epistles ; and witli what force, many 
 valuable commentators have shown at large. But 
 as if would be out of my way to consider tho.se rea- 
 sonings now, I content myself with mentioning one 
 passage, as a specimen of many more : " I speak 
 as unto wise men, judge ye what I say." A text, 
 in which there seems to be a spring, that will not 
 
 easily bend to your interpretation. But the whole 
 New Testament is so full of reasonings, that it is 
 quite superfluous to enumerate particulars. 
 
 Now when these things are tJius evident in fact, 
 it signifies little to say, that the apostles had not 
 time, or (jualifications, to maintain an argument; 
 and tiiat in the nature of things it would have been 
 preposterous for them to have attempted it. If 
 what you say on these topics (p. 38 — 15.) were con- 
 clusive, when compared with what I have produced 
 above, the conclusion would be something very 
 different from what you professedly labour to esta- 
 blish : — it would show, that the apostles acted in 
 an irrational and preposterous manner. But I am 
 in no pain for their reputation on this head, in 
 consequence of any thing which you have asserted ; 
 for all your reasonings are built on a forgetfulncss, 
 or misrepresentation, of those topics of argument, 
 on w hich the apostles laid the great stress of their 
 cause. 
 
 It is very true, that many curious and subtle 
 questions in pneumatology, metaphysics, and ethics, 
 might have been connected with some articles which 
 the apostles taught; and a whole life might have 
 been spent in canvassing all that a disputatious 
 caviller might have objected. It was indeed be- 
 neath the dignity of an apostle's character, and 
 inconsistent with his important work, to unravel 
 all the.se cobwebs, thread by thread. Yet God was 
 pleased to furnish them with the proper and rational 
 means of sweeping them away, as it were, at once. 
 Inspiration could, no doubt, have furnished them 
 for a minute discussion of every artful sophism, 
 and have taught them to range metapliysical argu- 
 ments with an accuracy far exceeding tliat of 
 Aristotle: but the generality of mankind was not 
 capable of entering into sueli curiosities ; and 
 therefore it was an instance of great wisdom and 
 goodness in the great Author of our religion, to 
 furnish them with a much nobler kind of argu- 
 ments, equally convincing to all candid and up- 
 right minds, which might soon be set in a very 
 strong and easy light. And accordingly they in- 
 sisted upon these. — They asserted, tiiat God, having 
 sent Christ into the world to be a divine teacher, 
 raised him from the dead, after he had been cruelly 
 slain l)y wicked and incorrigible men ; that, quickly 
 after this, he received him into heaven, from whence 
 he had sent down upon them an extraordinary divine 
 inliuence, to instruct them in the truth, and to en- 
 able them to preach it to tiie world in a very con- 
 vincing manner: in consequence of which, men 
 were no longer under the necessity of investigating 
 divine truths by the slow progress of [ihilosophical 
 argumentation ; but were to come, with humble 
 simplicity of soul, to hear and receive what God hy 
 them taught concerning himself, and his Son, and 
 the way of obtaining final and eternal happiness. 
 
1144 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 They never cxpeelcd (hat so important ami com- 
 prehensive an assertion should be taken on tlie 
 credit of their own word ; but to show, tliat God 
 was indeed with them, and that he himself taught 
 mankitul by them, they wrought such miracles as 
 sensibly demonstrated liis extraordinary presence 
 and agency. — And that tliis might appear a scheme 
 long since' formed in the divine mind, and inti- 
 mated to men long before it opened upon them, 
 they produced passages in the ancient and sacred 
 books of the Jews, in which their prophets had 
 plainly described this Jesus as the Messiah, and 
 marked out various particulars, which had an evi- 
 dent accomplishment in him ; waving many other 
 predictions, whicli could not so easily be ascertain- 
 ed and illustrated at that time, though future ages 
 and occurrences have made them very considerable 
 to us. — The apostles also urged, or frequently re- 
 ferred to, the excellent tendency of their doctrine 
 to promote real virtue and goodness in the world, 
 and the happy influence it had on those who sin- 
 cerely entertained it, which made the acceptance 
 or rejection of it a test of characters ; as they often 
 intimate, and sometimes expressly assert, that it 
 w-as.* And from all these things, which were plain 
 and evident, they most rationally inferred the obli- 
 gation which their hearers were under, to submit 
 themselves to those doctrines, laws, and institutions 
 of Christ, which they, as his authorized messengers, 
 brouglit them, and to adhere to his cause whatever 
 it might cost them. And all this they confirmed 
 by communicating to great numbers of their new 
 converts different gifts and operations of the Holy 
 Ghost, that produced sensible effects ; which might 
 also tend to convince others, that the doctrine they 
 had received was supernatural and divine. 
 
 These particulars constituted what one may call 
 the apostolic demonstration ; and they allowed their 
 hearers a competent time to examine it. It is true 
 indeed, the time and labour of these holy men were 
 of too great importance to permit them to make a 
 long stay in places, where the inhabitants would 
 not so much as receive them, nor give them a hear- 
 ing, nor would the mil I and peaceful genius of their 
 religion allow them to endeavour, even by miracle, 
 to force their continuance in any place, from whicli 
 the magistrates and people joined to expel them. 
 In cases of this nature alone, they were directed to 
 quit them, with that striking circumstance, which 
 you so much misrepresent, of shaking off the dust 
 of their feet, in token of their looking on such 
 despisers as devoted to certain destruction. But 
 yet in other places, where any of their hearers 
 desired their stay, and the rulers permitted it, they 
 
 * Compare Rom. i. 16—18; vi. 17—22; viii. 2,4; xii. 2. I Cor. vi. 
 9-11. 2 Cor. iii. 1, 2; iv. 2, 3. (iai. v. 18-24. Epli. ii. 1—3, 1(1— 
 12; iv. 17—24; v. 6—11. Pliil. ii. 15, 16. Col. i. 4—6, 9—13, 21, 22; 
 iii. 4—10 1 TlitSM ii. I — 10; v. .'i-8. 2 Tlicss. i. 3— 10. 1 Tim. i. 
 6. Tit. ii. 0—14. 1 I'tt. i. 14—22 ; iv. 2—6. 2 IVt i. :), 4. 1 J(.liii 
 i. .1-7 ; ii. 4, 5, 29; iii. 6—10; iv. 5, 6, 12; v. 1-5, 19. 2 John I, 2, G. 
 
 abode awhile with them ; and if wc may judge of 
 the conduct of others by that of the apostle Paul, 
 who seems one of the most active and itinerant of 
 them all, that .stay sometimes extended to months, 
 and sometimes to years. During this time they 
 were, so far as we can learn by the New Testament, 
 willing to dispute publicly with all opposers, and 
 to answer any objections which could be urged 
 against the truth of their doctrine, and the authority 
 of their mission, whether by Jews or Gentiles. And 
 if, which we have no reason to imagine a common 
 case, they sometimes cut short the debate, by inflict- 
 ing on perverse opponents miraculous judgments, 
 those punishments carried a rational conviction of 
 the authority of the apostles: but 1 recollect no 
 instance of a miracle of this kind on such an occa- 
 sion, but that of Ely mas the Jewish sorcerer, who 
 probably opposed the gospel, either by lying won- 
 ders, or by misrepresentations of the Old Testament, 
 of which a Roman governor could not easily judge : 
 on either of which suppositions, there would be a 
 remarkable propriety in this extraordinary step; in 
 which instance, by the way, great gentleness was 
 intermixed with the apparent severity, as it was 
 only for a season he was depri' ed of his sight. 
 
 If in cases and with proofs like these, thousands 
 were converted at a single lecture, as you express 
 it, it is certainly to be ascribed to th.e validity of 
 their arguments, in concurrence with the operation 
 of God's Spirit, to subdue their prejudices, and 
 make them willing, cordially to embrace, and cou- 
 rageously to confess, the truth ; of which, many who 
 did not profess it, were no doubt in their consciences 
 inwardly convinced. Yet I cannot tiiink after all, 
 that its success on the day of Pentecost, where so 
 many peculiar circumstances concurred, is to be 
 looked upon as a specimen of tlie rapidity with 
 which it commonly prevailed. 
 
 This, Sir, appears to me a just representation of 
 the case: that which you have been pleased to 
 make, in the pages last referred to, is very differ- 
 ent ; and I apprehend, it will be easy to show, there 
 are two material errors which attend it. It sup- 
 poses the case to be determined mucli more difficult 
 than it really was, and the assent universally re- 
 quired much more immediate. And as these two 
 palpable fallacies run through several other pas.sages 
 of your book, I must take the liberty to examine 
 them a little more particularly. 
 
 You represent the question concerning the truth 
 of Christianity, as tauglit by the apostles, to have 
 been much more difficult than it really was. " Eter- 
 nal relations, moral differences of things, and a pre- 
 cise delineation of the religion of nature and its 
 obligations, were all " not only material, but (as you 
 say in p. 42.) " indispensable, articles to be treated 
 of in the way, and inculcated as the foundation of 
 such a superstructure," Now here I would fiistob- 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1145 
 
 serve, that so far as the Jews were concerned in this 
 matter, a great part of these preliminary controver- 
 sies was quite superseded. They already believed, 
 that there was one God, the supreme Lord of all, 
 whose law required universal virtue, and had de- 
 nounced an awful curse against every instance of 
 wilful and presumptuous disobedience: they like- 
 wise believed, that in various preceding ages this 
 God had raised up prophets, with miraculous powers, 
 first to introduce, and afterwards to confirm, the 
 religion which they professed : and they were also 
 fully persuaded, that the Messiah was to appear 
 about that time, to establish the cause of God and 
 of righteousness in the world. To such the apostles 
 presented themselves as messengers from the God of 
 their fathers ; turned them to passages of their own 
 sacred books, in which the snfi'erings as well as the 
 triumphs of the Messiah were evidently foretold ; 
 and showed them, by the account they gave of 
 Christ, confirmed by the miracles which they 
 wrought in his name, that they must submit to his 
 authority, on the very same principles on which 
 that of Moses was acknowledged by them ; and 
 that they must hearken to him, or, according to the 
 testimony of Moses himself, must expect to be cut 
 off from among the people. 
 
 Where idolatrous Gentiles were to be addressed 
 to, there was indeed a great difficulty ; yet it was by 
 no means equal to what you. Sir, would represent. 
 Bad as they were, they had not lost all distinction 
 between virtue and vice, nor all notion of a supreme 
 Governor of the world. The popular religion re- 
 ceived among them was so flagrantly absurd, as to 
 admit of being easily exposed. And when they 
 heard that those vices, which, contrary to the light 
 of their own consciences, they indulged themselves 
 in, exposed them to the divine displeasure ; and 
 saw such sensible proofs of his presence and power, 
 as the miracles of the apostles afi'orded, proofs so 
 unparalleled and so striking ; that principle of con- 
 science which God had implanted in their natures, 
 and to which their own writers bear an abundant 
 testimony, would probably be alarmed ; and there 
 could be no need of a long deduction of philosophi- 
 cal arguments to convince those of them, who had 
 not imbibed philosophical prejudices, or were not 
 incorrigibly hardened in their immoralities, that 
 such kind of teachers deserved to be attentively 
 lieard. They would evidently see, that God was 
 with them, a God far superior to, and quite different 
 from, those indolent inactive deities which they 
 had been taught to adore. And it needs no great 
 labour to convince a man's understanding, that 
 when the Lord of nature speaks, he should hear 
 and obey.* In consequence of this, as soon as the 
 
 * Dr. Stebhing, in his late sermon before llie Society for tlic Propa. 
 Ration of the Gospel, has especially considered the miracles of the Apos. 
 ties " as an application to the fears of men, as under the special notice of 
 God, and liable to his correction." And it is certain, they did prove 
 
 Gentiles heard one discourse of the apostles, and as 
 soon as they saw a single miracle, or heard the 
 probable report of it, they had reason to pause, and 
 to set themselves seriously to inquire into this new 
 doctrine ; and if they did so, then supposing, as we 
 must here suppose, that facts were as the New Tes- 
 tament represents, it is impossible but they must 
 have stronger reasons to receive the gospel, than 
 they could have to reject it. Ignorant as they were 
 of the true principles of natural religion, they could 
 not be able at first to dis'-ern the force of that argu- 
 ment for the truth of Christianity, which arises from 
 its agreement with those principles : but that it was 
 proposed and attested by him, who evidently ap- 
 peared to be the great Sovereign of the world, they 
 might immediately see, by those instances, in which 
 the stable laws of nature were controlled in sub- 
 serviency to it. And they must also see, as soon as 
 they heard the plan, that it was admirably calcu- 
 lated, by strong motives before entirely unknown, 
 to make men honest, benevolent, and temperate ; 
 virtues, which have always been esteemed among 
 heathens, how little soever they have been prac- 
 tised. And having embraced it, they would come 
 to have juster and more extensive notions of the 
 beauty and glory of its internal evidences, as their 
 experimental acquaintance with it increased, and 
 their understandings improved with their graces. 
 
 This, I hope, may make it evident, that it was 
 not so difficult a thing, as you suppose, for those to 
 whom the apostles addressed, to enter into some 
 rational proofs of Christianity. I must now add, 
 that the assent which these divine teachers de- 
 manded, was not so immediate as you represent it 
 to have been. You say indeed, " There were no 
 concessions of time for doubt or deliberation ; one 
 declaration of the terms of tiie covenant was often 
 thought sufficient ; the least standing-off gave up 
 the unbeliever to reprobation ; — they must comply 
 without the least hesitation ;" and the like. (P. 
 .38, 39.) Now I own, that if frequent positive as- 
 sertions could pass for proofs, the point would be 
 clearly demonstrated on your side of the question. 
 But I think, the whole history of the Acts, and 
 many things in the Epistles, lead us to consider the 
 matter in a very different light. 
 
 The man indeed, who, on viewing such creden- 
 tials as I have mentioned, and hearing so much of 
 the gospel as in one hour he might learn, should 
 on the force of preconceived prejudices, whether 
 speculative or practical, refuse to give it any further 
 
 that men are so; yet 1 cannot think it the primary intention of these 
 miracles to impress terror, for this plain rcison, that Ihey were generally 
 of the beneficent kind. It seems, therefore, they were immediate proofs 
 of the presence and a^^enry of an ahni;;lity and most gracious God, 
 who, pityint; the sad state of bis di';;enerate otrsprini;, the chihireti 
 of men, had sent them a sovereign medicine for their souls, proved 
 rhielly, and with great propriety, by miraculous cures wrought upcm 
 their bodies. Yet as these messages of mercy were accompanied with 
 .twful tlireatenin;;s of severe punishments, in case of continued impeni- 
 tence and disobedience, the display of his power in these works of aliused 
 mercy would in a very solemn and aifecling manner enforce these 
 threatenings. 
 
IHC 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 consideration, and, as some of the wits of Athens 
 did, answer merely w itli seorn antl ridieule, mif>l)t 
 justly be left to perish in his delusions. And if this 
 were the ease universally in any city or town into 
 which the apostles came, (which one would hope it 
 seldom was,) the apostles must of course leave 
 then), and not force themselves on tiiose w ho rejected 
 their pretensions with disdain. But if others re- 
 ceived them, they generally (as I observed before) 
 made some stay at a place ; and as they continued 
 to teach and dispute publicly, those who at lirst 
 derided, mischt if they pleased hear them again and 
 again : and I can see no argument to prove, that 
 any degree of contempt or opposition, w ith wliich 
 any of them had at first rejected the gospel, would 
 seal them up under reprobation, if they afterwards 
 came to a better temper. 
 
 If these very men, as well as any others, express- 
 ed a desire of being further instructed ; if they 
 urged their remaining doubts, not as w ith a proud 
 disposition to cavil and insult, but as persons that 
 desired further rational satisfaction, that they might 
 aet as in the sight of God, and as answerable to 
 him in a jioint of so great importance ; and if they 
 attended these inquiries with prayers for further 
 divine illumination, wliich both the principles of 
 thc.Iewish revelation, and of natural religion, might 
 easily have taught them ; light would gradually 
 break in upon their minds, and they would know, 
 if they followed on to know the Lord. I challenge 
 you, Sir, to produce any one line in the New Testa- 
 ment, that intimates the apostles would discourage 
 such persons as these ; on the contrary, that 
 humanity and gentleness, that meekness and humi- 
 lity, which every where appear in their conduct and 
 writings, and for which they so justly celebrate their 
 great Master, would no doubt teach them to treat 
 such incjuirers tenderly and kindly, and to cherish 
 them as hopeful persons, who were not far from the 
 kingdom of God. A little time would probably 
 lead a candid upright mind tiirough its difliculties, 
 amidst so many shining evidences, which must 
 impress and convince, in proportion to the atten- 
 tion with which they were viewed. And if the 
 public concern of the churches did require the 
 apostles, as they possibly might, to quit such mo- 
 dest and humble inquirers as these, before they 
 arrived at full satisfaction ; they would, in every 
 place where they had planted a Christian church, 
 leave persons behind them, furnished with miracu- 
 lous gifts, who might build on the foundation they 
 had laid, and complete the work which they had 
 begun, in such honest and teachable souls. 
 
 There might indeed be a third sort of persons, 
 whose state was a medium between that of these, 
 and of the scorners we mentioned before: I mean, 
 such as were indolent about the matter; neither 
 positively persuaded that Christianity was false, 
 
 nor quite convinced that it was true, nor solicitous 
 to bring their doubts to an issue ; but concluding, 
 that whether it were true or false, they might find 
 out a path to happiness without it. This w as pro- 
 bably the case of niany of them, as it undoubtedly 
 is the case of many in our days. Now such as these 
 were not to be looked upon as fair inquirers, but as 
 triflers in the most serious of all allairs ; and as 
 acting the most absurd and inconsistent part: for 
 as Christianity pretended to be a matter of the 
 utmost importance, in neglecting it they acted as if 
 it were assuredly false, while yet they confessed 
 that they knew not but it might be true. A conduct, 
 w hich was rendered especially inexcusable by that 
 grand apparatus, with wliich Providence interposed 
 to introduce it, which if it proved any thing at all 
 concerning it, must prove it to be of infinite moment. 
 Persons of the sceptical turn, which you know. 
 Sir, to have been very connnon among the ancients, 
 might perhaps sometimes amuse themselves with 
 proposing their doubts to Christian teachers, as they 
 came in their way ; but it is not to be wondered, if 
 they lived and died in this wavering state, which 
 was indeed a state of folly and of vice, and no doubt 
 ended accordingly. But I cannot find a line in the 
 New Testament, which should lead one to suspect, 
 that they would ever have it to plead before the 
 tribunal of God, that they were condemned for re- 
 jecting the gospel, before they had time to look into 
 its proofs, though honestly and seriously disposed 
 to have done it. 
 
 I have in the whole course of this argument men- 
 tioned miracles, as awakening and convincing 
 proofs of a divine mission, without any particular 
 regard to w hat you have insinuated to the contrary, 
 (P. 46—50.) But now, Sir, I shall give it such 
 a notice as I think it recpaircs ; w hich will be the 
 less, as you seem to lay but very little stress on it 
 yourself, and write, so far as I can judge by what 
 follows, in a consciousness of the weakness of your 
 own objections. You say, " they were not meant 
 as arguments, but were natural effects of gospel 
 benevolence ;— and plead their being used by im- 
 postors ; — that care was often taken to keep them 
 private ; — and that the seeking them was dis- 
 couraged." All which you would seem to think 
 inconsistent with their being proofs, especially 
 important proofs, of the truth of the revelation. The 
 New Testament, that grand magazine of weapons 
 for the defence of Christianity, furnishes me with 
 such easy answers to all these suggestions, that my 
 only fear is, lest the reader should be wearied with 
 the illustration of things in themselves so plain, as 
 what I have to advance in direct contradiction to 
 all these insinuations of yours. 
 
 That the miracles which Christ and his apostles 
 performed, were really intended by him and them, 
 as proofs of a divine mission, is so plain from the 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &.c. 
 
 1147 
 
 appeals made to them, and the stress laid upon 
 them, that it would be quite superfluous to dilate 
 upon it here, especially after what Bishop Fleet- 
 wood, Dr. Chapman, and Mr. Chandler have so 
 judiciously urged on this head. Nor need any 
 reader who has not had the pleasure of an acquaint- 
 ance with those learned and accurate writers, ^o 
 any further than the texts I have thrown into the 
 margin to prove it beyond debate.* So that the 
 tendency of your remaining objection must be only 
 to show the argument, which Christ and his apos- 
 tles most largely insisted upon, to be inconclusive, 
 and the stress laid on it unreasonable. How far 
 the prosecution of this desijrn is consistent with the 
 warm zeal you profess for the gospel, it is not worth 
 while particularly to urge. I cannot see what its 
 greatest enemy could say, more directly tending to 
 subvert it. 
 
 You assert, in a manner which I confess surprises 
 me, " that miracles were but the natural effect of 
 their doctrine, instead of any supernatural proof of 
 its veracity." (P. 47.) I acknowledge myself quite 
 at a loss to find out the sense of this extraordinary 
 passage. By a miracle we generally mean a super- 
 natural event : now I cannot conceive, how this 
 should be in any case the natural effect of any 
 doctrine, be it ever so divine, or ever so important. 
 But if there were a doctrine, whose natural effect it 
 was, to endow its professors or teachers witli a power 
 of performing such operations as Christ and his 
 apostles did, it would surely be a proof of its vera- 
 city convin<-ing beyond all dispute or comparison. 
 However, we know not of any such doctrine ; nor 
 can we conceive of any necessary connexion be- 
 tween the knowledge of truth, and a ])ower of such 
 performances. I suppose therefore your meaning 
 must be, that when a person was endowed with 
 these miraculous powers, the exertion of them would 
 be what so benevolent a religion as Christianity 
 would naturally prompt him to, even though he 
 should not intend by it to demonstrate the truth of 
 that doctrine. But when the passage above is thus 
 explained, whicli I can but guess to be your mean- 
 ing in it, I would entreat you to show us what in- 
 consistency there is between these two views, that 
 you have so strangely opposed to each other. Would 
 it not be a glorious proof of a divine mi-ssion, that God 
 gave to Christ and his apostles a power of exercis- 
 ing their benevolence in so extraordinary a manner? 
 NVouId not miracles of a benevolent kind appear 
 the most congruous proofs of so benevolent a 
 .scheme ? And would not miracles intended as 
 proofs of a divine mission be equally an exercise 
 of benevolence ; nay indeed, would they not be 
 much more eminently so, than if no reference to 
 that mission bad been intended ? Surely an un- 
 
 * John V. .36; X. 21, 2.>, .17, .18 ; xiv. II; xv. 24. Mark ii. 10 • xvi 
 90. Matt. xi. 4, 5, 20-24. Acif ii. 22 ; x. 38; xiv. ,3. Heb. ii. 4. 
 
 prejudiced mind must see the view you arc guard- 
 ing against, to be the crown and glory of the whole. 
 By curing a painful and dangerous disease, by 
 opening the eyes of the blind, and the like, to lead 
 the afiiicted creature into the way of truth and duty, 
 and so into salvation ; and by his means to instruct 
 every spectator, every one who heard the credible 
 attestation of the fact, must enhance the benefit 
 beyond all expression ; extending it to a far greater 
 variety of subjects, and, if it were duly improved, 
 producing in each a far superior degree of happi- 
 ness, than the cure alone could afford to the person 
 who was the subject of it. 
 
 That Christ took care to conceal some of his 
 miracles, is indeed apparent ; which, to be sure, 
 was to avoid ostentation, and to prevent the people 
 from rising tumultuously in his favour : and that 
 he silenced the devils who bore witness to him, was 
 an evident instance of his wisdom, to cut off every 
 colour for the malicious and blasphemous charge 
 advanced against him as a confederate with them. 
 But you well know, that many of our Lord's mira- 
 cles were wrought in a most public manner ; some 
 in the streets of Jerusalem, and many more before 
 vast multitudes who were crowding around him, in 
 the fields, and the mountains. This is notorious. 
 And give me leave, Sir, seriously to express my 
 astonishment, how you could venture to say, in the 
 face of such obvious evidence to the contrary, " that 
 our Lord was always remarkably on the reserve in 
 this respect, whenever he happened to be among 
 unbelieving company." (P. 48.) A known false- 
 hood, liable to conviction in the eyes of the whole 
 world, is what I am very unwilling to charge upon 
 a gentleman and a scholar, though ever so unac- 
 quainted with his person and character. I will 
 therefore impute this, and some other passages of 
 this kind, to mere inattention and forgetfulness. 
 But permit me. Sir, to say, that you ought to have 
 read the New Testament with more accuracy, and 
 to have fixed the contents of it more dec|)ly in your 
 mind, before you had thrown out so many public 
 reflections upon it. How must it surprise and pain 
 you, to be told from thence, and to see how plainly 
 it is there asserted, that our Loid not only I'ast out 
 devils before the Pharisees, who charged him as a 
 confederate of Beelzebub with that very miracle 
 before their eyes ; but likewise, that the paralytic 
 was healed in Capernaum, while (here were Phari- 
 sees and doctors of the law sitting by, who were 
 come out of every town of Galilee, and .Judea, and 
 .Jerusalem ; when the power of the Loril was also 
 present to heal several more, and the crowd was so 
 great, that the friends of the paralytic were obliged 
 to take a very peculiar method to get him laid be- 
 fore .Jesus! How you could fail to know this, or 
 knowing could forget it, is strange : as also, how it 
 could have escaped your notice or memory, that 
 
IMS 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 Lazarus was raised before a great inultitiulc of peo- 
 ple, some of whieli were tlic friends of the ehief 
 priests ami Pharisees : or that a few days before our 
 Lord's death, when it was no lonjjcr necessary to 
 use such preeautions as he had formerly done, the 
 blintl and the lame came to him in tiic temple, and 
 he healed them ; and the chief priests and scribes 
 saw the Monderfiil things that he did. 
 
 ]}ut to dismiss a head on which I could not have 
 wished that you should iiave given me such advan- 
 tages, I must just touch upon your otlier objection 
 against the validity of the argument from miracles, 
 taken from Christ's rebuking those that sought 
 them. In some circumstances, it is evident that he 
 did : but all that we can infer from hence is, that 
 there were some circumstances, in whieli they were 
 unreasonably demanded. Thus for instance, when 
 he had in the presence of multitudes, (who are, by 
 the « ay. expressly distinguished from his disciples,) 
 healed the lame, the blind, the dumb, and the maim- 
 ed, and 7iiani/ others, who had been cast down at his 
 feet; and after that, had fed four thousand, with 
 seven loaves, and a few small fishes: we are im- 
 mediately told that the Pharisees and Sadducees 
 came tempting him, and demanded that he should 
 show tliem a sign from heaven ; thereby insolently 
 taking upon them to prescribe to God himself, what 
 kind of miracles they would have wrought for their 
 conviction. On this he very justly called them a 
 wicked and adulterous generation, and referred 
 them (with greater propriety than most commenta- 
 tors have been aware) to the grand miracle of his 
 resurrection, which was attended with a most illus- 
 trious sign from heaven ; the descent of an angel, 
 in the sight of the Roman soldiers, who guarded 
 the sepulchre : which they themselves testified to 
 the Jewish rulers, and perhaps to some of these 
 very persons who now presumed on so unreasonable 
 a demand. — He elsewhere blames those, who would 
 not believe unless they saw signs and wonders ; 
 that is, who would not yield to the most credible 
 testimony of others, though the witnesses were ever 
 so numerous and wortliy of belief, unless they had 
 that of their own senses added to the rest. — It is 
 very probable, some very indecent things had been 
 said by his enemies while questioning with his disci- 
 ples, to occasion sucli a severe expostulation as that, 
 O faithless and perverse generation, liow long shall 1 
 be with you ? how long shall I suffer you ? We can- 
 not suppose, from tlie known candour of our Lord's 
 character, that this was said without some peculiar 
 reason ; and as the words refer to much condescen- 
 sion and long-suffering formerly used, in giving 
 them much ampler satisfaction than they could 
 strictly have demanded, so we see, that whatever 
 insulting airs any of his enemies might have put 
 on, when they found his disciples baffled by so 
 stubborn a daemon, Jesus rebuked him with an air 
 
 of irresistible authority, and immediately cured the 
 child in their presence, and that of all the multi- 
 tude. 
 
 Now, when these facts are set in this just and 
 easy light, I leave it, Sir, to your invention, fertile 
 as it seems, to show how it follows as a conclusion 
 from these premises, that our Lord judged miracles 
 not to be proper proofs of a divine mission, and did 
 not perform his miracles as such proofs. I shall 
 only add, that as God never intended every indivi- 
 dual person should be an eye-witness to miraculous 
 operations, it seems an amiable instance of wisdom 
 and goodness in such cases as these we have exa- 
 mined, as well as in that of Thomas, to check the 
 petulancy of such, as in those days would not yield 
 to any testimony, but that of their own senses, on 
 such an occasion. 
 
 All that remains to be examined under this class 
 of objections, is " what you say concerning the pos- 
 sibility of miracles being used by impostors." (P. 
 46.) This is indeed an important topic, and has 
 been handled with that accuracy which it deserves 
 by those who have professedly written upon it. 
 Some persons of great eminence in the learned and 
 Christian world have so very lately examined it, 
 that it is quite unnecessary for me to resume the 
 controversy here: and you touch but slightly upon 
 it, conscious as it seems, that after what they have 
 said, it deserves little stress. I shall, therefore, 
 answer, in almost as few lines as your own, only 
 saying, — that I see no reason to believe, that the 
 phrase " lying wonders" in Scripture signifies, as 
 you in your objections suppose, true miracles to 
 confirm a lie ; — and that the patrons of Christianity 
 challenge all its enemies to produce any instance of 
 miracles wrought expressly to confirm a falsehood, 
 which have not been immediately, and on the very 
 spot, opposed by superior miracles on the side of 
 truth ; and these attended with such visible degrees 
 of superiority, as to render the triumph of truth 
 more sensible, and more illustrious, than, in those in- 
 stances, it could have been without such opposition. 
 
 What follows in your 51st page, concerning the 
 degree in which antiquity impairs the weight of 
 miracles said to have been wrought many ages 
 ago, has in part been obviated already; and has 
 been so often urged by the enemies of revelation, 
 and so largely considered by its learned defenders, 
 that I think myself fairly dispensed with from in- 
 sisting further upon it here. I shall only add, that 
 it must be a sensible pleasure to those that wish 
 well to Christianity, to see its opposers reduced to 
 the wretched necessity of attacking it with such 
 arguments, as, if fhey will prove any thing against 
 it, will also prove that we can have no rational 
 evidence of any thing that was done before we w'ere 
 born ; or indeed of any thing which we have not 
 seen with our own eyes : an absurdity, which I 
 
 I 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1149 
 
 suppose no man living can practise upon Iiis own 
 understanding, so far as deliberately to admit it, 
 though infidelity can sometimes remove its moun- 
 tains, and bury them in the depths of the sea. 
 
 But there is another very different medium, by 
 which you endeavour to prove that Christianity is 
 not founded on argument, i. e. that we are not to 
 expect rational proof of it ; which will require a 
 larger and more particular discussion ; I mean, 
 " that we are required to believe it on so high a 
 penalty." It seems, methinks, at the first proposal, 
 that this medium is of a very extraordinary nature. 
 One would imagine the argument lay the contrary 
 way : that if God required our assent to it on pain 
 of eternal ruin and condemnation, he must have 
 made the evidences of it very clear and strong, and 
 such as every upright mind must be able to see the 
 force of, on a diligent inquiry, which such minds 
 will not fail to make. However you, Sir, are 
 pleased to insist upon it in a contrary light, and to 
 argue from it, that something more convincing 
 than any argument, even an immediate revelation, 
 must be necessary to justify such a demand. 
 
 The terms in which you urge this consideration 
 are so triumphant, that they rise even to insult. 
 " With what regard, with what patience rather, 
 can one," who expects reason for his faith, " be 
 supposed to attend to questions propounded to him, 
 under the restraints of threats and authority ? to be 
 talked to of danger in his decisions, and have the 
 rod held out with the lesson ? to have propositions 
 tendered to his reason with penalties annexed ? — 
 He disdains, with all justice, an attempt equally 
 weak and unjust, of frighting him into a compliance 
 out of his power." (P. 8, 9.) It would be tedious 
 to repeat a great deal more which you say in the 
 same strain ; in which I heartily wish, that the ig- 
 norance which you seem to discover in the state of 
 the question, may another day be allowed as some 
 excuse for the rashness and arrogance of the lan- 
 guage in which you treat it ; which will not univer- 
 sally pass for demonstration, though some may 
 be weak enough to be carried away with the 
 torrent. 
 
 I know indeed, that the sentence which the 
 gospel pronounces against unbelievers has been 
 thought by many a considerable objection against 
 the Christian scheme ; on which account I the 
 rather take this opportunity of opening my senti- 
 ments upon it, especially as I apprehend it has 
 often, on one side or the otlier, been set in a very 
 wrong point of light. 
 
 Now here I shall not attempt to solve tlie sup- 
 posed difficulty by pleading, that the denunciation 
 only refers to the case of those, who should refuse 
 to admit the testimony of the apostles, confirmed by 
 miraculous works of which they were themselves 
 eye-witnesses. Tiie answer would not be allowed 
 
 by you ; since your objection lies against the de- 
 mand in any circumstance of evidence : nor do I 
 indeed think the foundation of the solution just and 
 true ; since whatever reference one text in ques- 
 tion* might have to the testimony immediately 
 borne by the apostles, there are many others which 
 cannot be so evaded. I therefore encounter the 
 objection in all its force, allowing that every one 
 who finally rejects Christianity is in a state of con- 
 demnation, and that there remains for him only a 
 certain fearful looking for of judgment, and fiery 
 indignation, which shall devour the adversaries. f 
 But I conclude, on the principles of common 
 equity, that this only extends to those who have 
 capacities and opportunities of inquiring into its 
 evidences; since ignorance absolutely unavoidable 
 is a plea so considerable, that it must have its 
 weight before a wise and righteous God. In the 
 instance of idiocy and lunacy, all the world allows 
 it ; and as the only reason of that seems to be, that 
 ignorance is then unavoidable, wherever it is so, it 
 must certainly, on the like principles, be allowed. 
 But with these limitations I freely declare, that the 
 sentence which the gospel passes on unbelievers, is 
 so far from appearing any objection against Chris- 
 tianity, that I apprehend it greatly increases its 
 internal evidence, when taken in conjunction with 
 the rest of the scheme ; though considered alone, it 
 would to be sure be very absurd, to pretend it to be 
 any proof at all. 
 
 For the illustration of this, I must first remove 
 one mistake, which seems to me a source of per- 
 petual confusion on this head, and on which most 
 of the confident things which you have ventured to 
 say on this awful subject depend, and with which 
 they fall to the ground ; I mean, that an assent to 
 the truth of Christianity is the main thing intended 
 by the word faitit, and required under so high a 
 penalty. On the contrary, nothing is more evident 
 to me, than that (as I have largely shown else- 
 where,) faith in such passages of the New Testa- 
 ment as are here in (|uestion is considered as a 
 practical thing, which includes in it, what the word 
 exactly expresses, an act of trust, or committing the 
 soul to Christ, to be, under liis inlluence and care, 
 formed for happiness, and conducted to it, ac- 
 cording to the method of salvation exhibited in the 
 gospel. 
 
 It is true, indeed, a persuasion of the speculative 
 truth of Christianity must be the foundation of such 
 a faith, but it is far from being the only, or indeed 
 the primary, property of it ; nor is it that, which is 
 chiefly referred to in these jiassages in question. 
 I readily agree wilh you, that such an assent of the 
 understanding, simply considered, could not, with- 
 out great absurdity, have been demanded under so 
 high a penalty, or indeed under any penalty at all ; 
 
 * Murk xvi. 16. + Htb. x. 26, 27. 
 
1150 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 and this is ail that your argunients and delianccs 
 amount to. But if provision be made, that (except- 
 ing as above) all to whom the gospel comes, shall 
 on due ronsideration see irresistible evidence to 
 determine that assent, they may justly be threatened 
 with fatal consequences as unbelievers, wiicther 
 that speculative assent be or be not produced. 
 Since it will ajspcar, on tliat supposition, they have 
 either on tiie one hand, notwithstanding lair and 
 solemn warning, criminally omitted taking those 
 measures which would inl'allibly and necessarily 
 have produced a conviction of the truth ; or on the 
 other hand, being convinced of it, have acted con- 
 trary to what they knew in their own consciences 
 that reason and duty required. 
 
 Taking the matter in this view, it may perhaps 
 seem so clear, that some of my readers may won- 
 der I should pursue it any further: yet as you lay 
 so great a stress on this supposed difficulty, and as 
 so many other persons have seemed shocked with 
 it, and some, (as I have been informed,) have car- 
 ried it so far as to reject Christianity, because they 
 were threatened with damnation if they did not 
 believe it, I will more particularly open to you that 
 view of things, which convinces me that these 
 damnatory sentences increase, rather than weaken, 
 the internal evidence of that gospel to which they 
 are annexed. And here I shall more particularly 
 show, first, — that there is not in the general any 
 absurdity, in supposing such a sentence may attend 
 a revelation from God ; and then, — that there is a 
 peculiar propriety in it, when connected with such 
 a sort of revelation as Christianity in other respects 
 appears to be. 
 
 For the illustration of the first of these, I would 
 desire you, Sir, calmly to consider, whether it be in 
 the nature of things absolutely impossible, that an 
 infinitely wise God should contrive such evidence 
 of the truth of a revelation, as should be suflicient 
 to convince every honest inquirer, who is capable 
 of exercising reason in the common afl'airs of life ; 
 and such only as are here in qucstior.. Can a 
 mathematician invent a demonstration, which al- 
 most every one of a common genius shall with due 
 application infallibly understand ; and cannot the 
 great Former of the human spirit find out a way of 
 effecting the like, by a proof of another kind ? Or 
 if no one argument which omniscience could fur- 
 nish out, can have such a universal effect, (which 
 I think it would be great petulancy and folly to 
 assert,) could not tliis w ise and glorious Being cx- 
 Iiibit a complication of arguments so adjusted, that 
 some one of them at least should be suited to strike 
 every such inquirer, and to convince him ? Nay, to 
 bring the matter yet lower, when a strong complica- 
 tion of various arguments is provided, it is abso- 
 lutely impossible, that an all-comprehending mind 
 should contrive a scheme of providence, in eonse- 
 
 <iucnee of which every sincere and honest inquirer 
 should, cither by some external occurrence, (as 
 meeting with a book, or friend, in some critical 
 moment of doubt or danger,) or by some inward im- 
 pression, (his thoughts being fixed and guided, as 
 it seems to him, in a natural way, and without any 
 particular revelation,) be led into such views of the 
 evidence as shall engage his assent ; while at the 
 same time a mind under the strong force of vicious 
 prejudices, shall be left to harden itself against 
 opening proofs, to turn away from the increasing 
 light, and to aggravate trilling objections, tilj it ut- 
 terly rejects a most salutary schemp. I ask you. 
 Sir, and I ask every reader, whether you, or he, 
 will venture so to limit an all-wise and almighty 
 Being, as to say, that it is absolutely impossible he 
 should adjust matters, as on any one of the three 
 former suppositions ? But if you cannot say, and 
 prove it to be so, then be pleased with me to reflect 
 on the consequence of supposing any one of these 
 to be a possible case. 
 
 On such a supposition, I would ask you, whether 
 it vvould not be just with God to condemn those 
 who should reject a revelation attended with evi- 
 dence so adjusted and supported ; that is, on this 
 hypothesis, to condemn those who through vicious 
 prejudices should refuse an upright and cf.'jdid in- 
 quiry into the truth, and perhaps into the evidence 
 of it, attended with some circumstances w hich tend 
 powerfully to strike the mind, and awaken ex- 
 amination and attention? I see not, how the justice 
 of this could be denied on any principle, which 
 will not infer, that God cannot punish any vice of 
 a sinner's mind, or any irregularity of his life, and 
 will consc(iuently overthrow natural religion. 
 
 Let us then imagine, in hypothesis at least, (since 
 it appears no impossibility,) the evidence adjusted 
 as above, and the resolution of punishing the infi- 
 del formed ; I would further ask, w hether in such 
 a circumstance it was, or could be, unworthy the 
 divine Being to declare such a purpose and resolu- 
 tion ? Some valuable ends, which might be an- 
 swered by such a declaration, are obvious enough. 
 It could not indeed convince any man's understand- 
 ing, that the doctrine so enforced was true ; and I 
 do not know that any one was ever weak enough to 
 pretend it: but it might in some degree awaken 
 the attention of an inquirer ; since though he could 
 not believe the threatening till he discerned the 
 evidence of that revelation of which it makes a 
 part, yet he would easily see, that if it should 
 indeed prove true, it must be a truth of vast 
 importance ; and would also see, that whatever 
 degrees of probability appeared to be in its favour 
 when first proposed, there must be equal degrees of 
 probability that he would be miserable in conse- 
 quence of rejecting it. Besides, this declaration 
 might excite the persons employed to publish the 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1151 
 
 revelation of which it made a part, to act with 
 greater ardour and spirit, and to sufler with greater 
 courage and resolution, when they knew that the 
 happiness of mankind was so intimately concerned 
 in it. It might also awaken in all who embraced 
 this revelation, a concern to keep it pure and un- 
 mingled w ith any thing, wliich by a wrong associa- 
 tion of ideas might occasion a prejudice against it, 
 whether from the absurdity of its supposed doc- 
 trines, or the immorality of those who received 
 and maintained it; since such prejudices might 
 prove so fatal. Now each of these appears to me a 
 very important end, of which many objectors against 
 this part of Christianity seem to be very little ap- 
 prized.* 
 
 On the other hand. Sir, if no such threatenings 
 were annexed, and the purpose of God to execute 
 his deserved pleasure on the rejecters of this reve- 
 lation should at length take place, would not the 
 unhappy creature have room to make some such 
 reflection as this, when he was plunging into a final 
 destruction ? " Why was I not admonished of the 
 danger of unbelief in such a case as this ? When so 
 many other things were declared, and so many 
 other messages sent, why was not this one article 
 added, by the messengers who brought the rest ?" 
 Now though conscience might tell such a wretch, 
 that every vicious prejudice was penal, and that if 
 mercy were indeed ollered and slighted, the conse- 
 quence must be dangerous and fatal ; yet it seems 
 congruous to the divine wisdom and goodness, to 
 
 * Agreeable to what I have said above, of the various use of such 
 threatenings, it may be observed, that many of those passages of the 
 New Testamcttt wliicii express tin- divine pnrpose of pnnishin;; tlie 
 rejecters of Ciu'istianity, are not immediately addre-ssed to unbelievers; 
 (thoujih tliey arc at other times, as was very reasonable, solemnly 
 vparned ;) but to those who were to be preachers of the ffospel, whom 
 therefore (if any such read this passage) I beseech and entreat in the 
 bowels of Christ seriously to consider them. Thus it is, in his charge 
 to the twelve apostles, (Matt. x. 15.) and to the seventy disciples, 
 (Luke X. 12.) that out Lord represents unbelievers as certainly devoted 
 to so dreadful a destruction, that it should be more tolerable for Sodom 
 and (lomorrali ui the day of jud;:uM--nt than f)r them. And it is to his 
 apostles also, that, when risen from the dead, he says, just after a com- 
 mission lo Ko and preach the (rospel to every creature, (Mark xvi, Ifi.) 
 He that believetli, and is baptized, shall be saved ; but UK THAT BH. 
 I.IEVKTH NOT, .SHALL BK DAMNED. Many passages of the s;mie 
 purport in the Lpistks, are aildressed lo Christians, no doubt with the 
 same general view of awakening their com p.assionate ed'orts to deliver 
 those wretched creatures who were in such extreme danger. Com. 
 pare 2 Thess. i. 7—!). 2 Tim. ii. 2.5, 2(>. and Jude, ver. 23. 
 
 I must also take the liberty to add, that there appears to me a very 
 hf auliful propriety in the manner of our Lord's expressini; several of 
 tbe,se denunciations, which is not in a direct, but an oblique, form ; 
 which particularly became that gracnnis Mcs-^ennir of llie divine 
 love, who visited the world, not to condemn, but to save it. Thus the 
 awful doom of Canernaum and Uethsaida is nt(ered by Christ, not 
 ■when speaking to tlu'ni, but when distant from them, in the form of a 
 lamentation over them. (Malt. xi. 20— 24 ) So likewise is .Jerusalem 
 lamented over, ;i» abandoned lo destruction for its incorrigible and 
 perverse infidelity, once when Christ was as far off as (ialilee, (Luke 
 xiii. ,1-1, 3.V) and afterwards, when only approaching, and beliolding 
 it from mount Olivet. (Luke xix. 41, 42.) And this last time the ruin 
 vias predicted in broken language, and with a flow of tears; express, 
 ing on the f»ne hand, the benevolence of our Lord's temper, which 
 engaged him to mourn over the justest condemnation which sinner» 
 could bring on themselves; and on Ihe other, the inevitable certainty, 
 and unnlterable terror, of that destruction which was coming upon 
 them. It is one instance among a thousand, of that fine spirit which 
 runs Ihrtiugh all our Lord's behaviour; and which renders it astonish, 
 ing, that his cause should meet with .such malignant opposition among 
 many who set up for critics in the T" III'LIION and tlie TO KAAfiN, 
 the Decorum, and the Beauty, of actions. I have known a criminal 
 touched, and even charmed, with the IcMdcrncss which a judge has 
 shown in passing a capital sentence upon him ; and I wonder it should 
 not be the case here. 
 
 foreclose such a plea as this, even in the mouth of 
 a perishing sinner. 
 
 On this view I hope it will appear not incredible 
 in hypothesis and speculation, that a revelation 
 tnight come from God, the evidence of which should 
 be so adjusted, that all who have an opportunity of 
 examining into it might be required to receive and 
 submit to it, on pain of God's highest displeasure ; 
 though you. Sir, have been pleased to paint this as 
 a supposition in itself flagrantly absurd. Nay, I 
 apprehend, it must follow from these principles, 
 that the very supposition of a revelation in general 
 implies, on the one hand, sufficiency of evidence to 
 every candid inquirer ; and on the other, certain 
 divine displeasure against the rejecters of it, which 
 if not expressly declared, will at least be implied. 
 
 But how far this is from a real absurdity, may 
 further appear by viewing the matter in an opposite 
 light. Let me imagine, a man should profess to 
 bring me a divine revelation with great solemnity ; 
 and yet at the same time should declare, that I 
 might reject it without any danger. I know not 
 how others might judge, but I am sure tli.is would 
 appear to me so incoherent, that I should hardly 
 give myself the trouble of inquiring into his creden- 
 tials, unless some very striking circumstance ap- 
 peared at the first view. For it would be natural 
 to conclude, it may be true, or it may be false. And 
 if it be true, by the confession of the messenger I 
 have no great concern in it ; I may be happy with- 
 out paying any regard to it. It is therefore com- 
 paratively a trifling concern, and by consctjuence 
 so much less likely to be the subject of a divine 
 interposition. 
 
 Take it therefore in any light, and it appears to 
 me, that an obligation on some high penalty to 
 inquire into credentials, and by consequence to re- 
 ceive and obey the command, is in the nature and 
 reason of things to be supposed as the counterpart 
 of the honour of receiving a message from God ; 
 and, as the law speaks, transit cum onere, it comes 
 to a man, (if I may be allowed the expression,) 
 with this aw ful encumbrance, " He must reject it at 
 hi.i peril." And agreeably to this remark, wc al- 
 ways find, (so far as I can recollect,) through the 
 whole series of the Old Testament, that where the 
 message sent from God was disregarded, some sig- 
 nal punishment was inflicted on the person to whom 
 it was addressed; which I mention, not as arguing 
 fiom it, but as a circumstance illustrating in one 
 view the reasonings above, and in another receiving 
 illustration from them. 
 
 These, Sir, arc the principles, on whi(;h I said 
 above, that threatenings against those who should 
 disbelieve and reject a revelation in question, are 
 so far from being any arguments against its being 
 reasonable and divine, as some have vainly pre- 
 tended ; that on the contrary, they are so suitable 
 
1 1 5-2 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 to a wisely-concerted selieme, tliat tlic omission of 
 them would rather be an objection against a pre- 
 tended revehUion, than any arj;iiment in its favour. 
 
 I sliall bear leave, Sir, to detain you a little longer 
 on this liead, while I attempt to show that these 
 reasonings, which appear of general force, have a 
 peculiar and singular weight when applied to 
 Christianity: which will appear from considering 
 the degrees of evidence to which it pretends, and 
 several other circumstances attending the scheme 
 itself, and the manner in which it was introduced 
 into the world. 
 
 I have discoursed at large already on the kind of 
 evidence with which Christianity was attended, 
 during the ministry of Christ and his apostles, and 
 huxc referred to several passages in whicli the re- 
 jection of it is charged on such vicious prejudices, 
 as must render men highly criminal before God ; 
 and some other passages to the same purpose may 
 be seen in the margin.* I shall only add here, that 
 I apprehend, our blessed Lord (who said nothing in 
 vain, and in whose short sentences there is often a 
 weight far beyond what the generality of his ene- 
 mies, or his followers, have considered) seems ex- 
 pressly to have asserted the most extraordinary of 
 all the suppositions made above to be fact ; I mean, 
 that of a divine superinfendency over every well 
 disposed mind, to lead it into the evidences of the 
 truth of his doctrine. And this, you will observe, 
 he hath spoken in terms suiting not only the period 
 of liis own, or the apostles' ministry, but future ages 
 too. You will perhaps, from this general liint, re- 
 collect that important passage ;t If any man will 
 do his will, i. e. the will of my Father, lav nc SeX;? 
 TToiHv, " if he be resolutely determined upon it," (as 
 I have elsewhere observed the phrase plainly signi- 
 fies, t) he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be 
 of God, or whether I speak of myself. And the 
 prophet Isaiah seems long before to have represent- 
 ed the matter much in the same view, though, ac- 
 cording to his manner, in more figurative terms ; 
 when he says. An high-way shall be there ; and it 
 shall be called the way of holiness; — the way- 
 faring men, though fools, shall not err therein. 
 
 I might also show at large, if I were not afraid of 
 running out this letter to too great a length, that not 
 only those degrees of evidence to which Christianity 
 pretends, but also several other circumstances at- 
 tending the scheme itself, and the manner in which 
 it was introduced into the world, render the threat- 
 enings annexed peculiarly suitable to it, beyond the 
 degrees in which they might, on the principles 
 above, have suited a revelation in these respects 
 different from the gospel. 
 
 It is very material for the illustration of this 
 
 * Acts xiii. 46; xviii. 6. Rom. ii. 8, 9. 2Cor. iv. 3, 4 1 Tliess. ii. 
 14-16. 2Thess. 1.6-9; ii. 10—12. Hel). iii. 7—13; vi. 7, 8. I John 
 V. 19. + Jolin vii. 17. 
 
 t See F.imily Exposilor, vol. ii. p 47. 
 
 point, to recollect that the Christian scheme sup- 
 poses mankind under guilt, and obnoxious on ac- 
 count of it to misery, to dreadful final misery ; and 
 accordingly makes its proposals not only under the 
 notion of a benefit, but of a remedy ; of a remedy 
 without which men were perishing. Now the 
 necessary consequence of this must be the death 
 and destruction of those who reject it. In this view 
 the sacred writers with great propriety sometimes 
 place it. God sent his Son into the world, that 
 whosoever believeth in him might not perish ; and 
 therefore he that believeth not on him, is condemned 
 alrcad}', because he hath not believed : — it plainly 
 appears from his unbelief, that he is actually under 
 sentence ; and as it follows afterwards, The wrath 
 of God, that wrath from which he might otherwise 
 have been saved and rescued, abideth on him. And 
 to this purpose Christ declares elsewhere, If you 
 believe not that I am he, you shall die in your sins ; 
 shall perish with the guilt of all those transgressions 
 on your heads, from which I was so sincerely willing 
 to have delivered you. 
 
 The threatenings in question are also congruous 
 to the importance of those blessings, which arc 
 ofTered to all who embrace and obey the gospel. 
 These are well known in speculation ; but were 
 they duly considered, they would appear to have 
 much greater weight than many are aware. A full 
 pardon of all the most aggravated sins which the 
 true penitent has ever committed ; the communica- 
 tion of divine influences, to enable us to conquer 
 the power of sin to which we were enslaved, and 
 to fit us for happiness present and future ; an ad- 
 mission info the family of God, and a participation 
 of all the joys and privileges of his children ; the 
 reception of our separate spirits into the presence 
 of God, and to the most glorious society, enjoy- 
 ments, and services there ; and at length, the re- 
 surrection of our bodies, and the eternal happiness 
 of the whole man : such favours offered to con- 
 demned sinners by the offended Majesty of heaven 
 and earth, must certainly have drawn after them 
 severe punishments on the presumptuous creatures 
 by whom they were slighted and despised, had they 
 been notified and proposed by the meanest inhabit- 
 ant of tlie celestial world, or even of our own, as an 
 ambassador from God. But when to all this it is 
 added, that a person so glorious, so excellent, and 
 so divine, as the Son of God himself, his only-be- 
 gotten Son, became the messenger of his Father's 
 love and grace to us ; and that he might testify it 
 in a more effectual manner, became also, for many 
 succeeding years, an inhabitant of our low world ; 
 and at length submitted to such extreme evils, even 
 to death itself, to a death attended with such asto- 
 nishing circumstances of ignominy and torture, for 
 this great reason among others, that he might affect 
 our minds with powerful sentiments of religious 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1163 
 
 veneration, of gratitude, and love ; who can wonder, 
 if there be an awful counterpart to all these mira- 
 cles of condescension and mercy ? Who can wonder, 
 if the contempt of such a gospel, so circumstan- 
 tiated, and so sealed, be penal in proportion to the 
 degree in which it is criminal ? Can it possibly be 
 imagined, that the Son of God should become in- 
 carnate, and bleed, and die ; and that his Spirit 
 should afterwards be sent down from heaven, with 
 all that splendid apparatus of various languages 
 instantaneouslj' taught, and miraculous powers 
 every where exerted ; and all this to make way for 
 a discovery, which those to whom it was sent might 
 trample upon with impunity? that they might re- 
 ject and deride it themselves, and perhaps make it 
 almost the only serious business of their lives, to 
 expose it to universal contempt; and yet, though 
 living and dying impenitent, partake in the day of 
 final retribution, with that Redeemer whom they 
 have rejected and opposed, in the joys he will be- 
 stow on his faithful servants, and which he will 
 share with them ! This, Sir, is such a shocking in- 
 congruity even in hypothesis, that you yourself 
 could not forbear exploding it ; and I think you 
 have done it witli great propriety and spirit. (P. 
 45.) It is indeed as you represent it : The least in- 
 timation of mercy to the finally unbelieving and im- 
 penitent would have been a blemish on the whole 
 scheme, and a kind of toleration for that neglect, 
 which in such a case it would probably have met 
 with in the world. Whereas it is now with the most 
 becoming majesty, that such a dispensation of won- 
 ders terminates in a day, when this humbled and 
 dishonoured Saviour shall appear in flaming fire, 
 taking vengeance on them that know not God, and 
 that obey not the gospel of .Jesus Christ ; who shall 
 therefore be punished with everlasting destruction 
 from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory 
 of his power. 
 
 Permit me only to touch on one consideration 
 more, which illustrates the congruity of these denun- 
 ciations, as a part of the gospel scheme ; and that 
 is, the difficulties through which that scheme was to 
 struggle in its early infancy. It was wisely ordorcfJ 
 by Providence for the establishment and edification 
 of succeeding ages, that the first professors of 
 Christianity should encounter great hardships and 
 sufferings on account of it ; and it would be easy to 
 show, that a scheme calculated for universal reform- 
 ation must expose to such trials, when it made its 
 entrance into so degenerate a world. Now in this 
 view there was an evident necessity, that the fear of 
 'lim, who after he had killed could cast both soul 
 and body into hell, should be opposed to the threats 
 of cruel persecutors. It was necessary, that the 
 danger of rejecting, deserting, or even dissembling, 
 the faith, should be plainly and affectionately repre- 
 sented ; otherwise men would have held themselves 
 4 i: 
 
 fairly dispensed with from inquiring and looking 
 into a scheme, so likely to prove destructive to their 
 fortunes, and even to their lives, in this world, and 
 by its own confession, by no means necessary to 
 avoid greater evils in another. 
 
 From all these reasonings it appears to me un- 
 deniably evident, that as some severe threatenings to 
 those who reject it must probably in any case attend 
 a divine revelation ; so these threatenings are so evi- 
 dently congruous to the peculiar nature, design, and 
 circumstances of Christianity, that had they not made 
 a part of it, the absence of them would have been a 
 great diminution to its internal evidence, and proba- 
 bly an effectual bar to its propagation in the world. 
 
 I am sensible. Sir, the grand objection against all 
 these reasonings is taken, from the appearance of a 
 virtuous and amiable disposition in some who dis- 
 believe the gospel, and from the possibility that a 
 wrong association of ideas in others, leading them 
 to conclude those things to be contained in the 
 Christian revelation which do not indeed belong to 
 it, may engage some to reject the whole from the 
 apparent absurdity which they see in these spurious, 
 though solemn, additions to it ; as for instance, in 
 those vast tracts of land, in which transubstanti- 
 ation and image worship are represented, not merely 
 as consistent with Christianity, but as in a manner 
 essential to it, by ihose who are its establislied 
 teachers, and jnay therefore be presumed best to 
 understand it. 
 
 As for the latter of tliese cases, it must be con- 
 sidered how far the person so mistaken in the idea 
 he has formed of Christianity has fallen into that 
 mistake necessarily, and how far it may be charged 
 on his own negligence or mismanagement. It is 
 possible, that in some countries Christianit}' may be 
 so misrepresented, and the common people may be 
 .so utterly incapable of coming at its true contents, 
 that they may be looked upon as persons unavoid- 
 ably ignorant of it ; and consequently are not 
 included in the number of those, whose case we are 
 now considering. But if any may have recourse to 
 the Scriptures, and will not give themselves the 
 trouble of searching them, to see whether these 
 supposed absurd doctrines are really contained in 
 them, or no, they must stand by the ronsequences 
 of llicir indolence and rashness: and. I fear, the 
 nobility and gentry in popish countries, (who are 
 the persons among whom deism probably prevails 
 most,) are generally in this case. Such niigiit easily 
 have discovered so much good in Christianity, and 
 so many arguments in its favour, as might have 
 proved it worth their while to have read over the 
 New Testament again and again, with an honest 
 desire of knowing what are indeed the doctrines 
 and precepts contained in it. 1 question not, but 
 such an employment would have been a much more 
 rational and useful way of spending time, than what 
 
1161 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 the persons in question have often preferred to it ; 
 and it is not so obscure, as to leave a candid reader 
 in such a case capable of imagining it teaches, or 
 requires, any thing absurd. 
 
 As for the supposed virtues of some who know 
 the gospel and reject it, I fear, Sir, when they come 
 to be tried by tlie great standard of true excellence 
 in character, they will be found exceedingly dcli- 
 cicnt. Virtue is a word of a very dubious signification ; 
 and, as it is generally used, that man is denomi- 
 nated virtuous, who is temperate, just, and humane, 
 in his conduct, be he never so destitute of religion. 
 Now with regard to such persons it is evident, that 
 a wise and righteous God will never treat them as 
 if they had been debauched, unjust, and inhumane. 
 Nevertheless, if such as these live without God in 
 the world ; if they cast ofl" fear, and restrain prayer 
 before God ; if (which the very fact of their reject- 
 ing Christianit}' proves) they will not set themselves 
 to inquire diligently and impartially into the inti- 
 mations of the Divine Will ; if they are unhumbled 
 before God for the various transgressions of their 
 lives, and so proudly conceited of their own rea- 
 sonings, that they will set their preconceived opin- 
 ions on paiticular subjects against all the weight 
 of internal and external evidence attending the 
 Christian revelation, when contradicting those 
 opinions ; I cannot see on what ground they can 
 complain, if they be finally treated as persons, who, 
 while they have reverenced men, have forgotten 
 God. Nor can it be imagined, that, under the load 
 of so much guilt, they will have any claim to future 
 rewards, merely because they have had sense and 
 good nature enough, to judge rightly concerning 
 what would generally be the best interests and en- 
 joyments of human life, even if there were no 
 Deity ; and so have chosen to live like men rather 
 than brutes, so far as sobriety and mutual kindness 
 are in question. 
 
 Had the best of men a suitable and continual 
 sense of the majesty and purity of the divine nature, 
 and of that love, duty, and zeal, which a reason- 
 able creature owes to its Creator, they would, with 
 all their human and social virtues about them, fall 
 down into the dust before God, and say, Enter not 
 into judgment with thy servants, for in thy sight 
 shall no man living be justified! and they would 
 feci a load of guilt pressing on their consciences, 
 and engaging them most attentively to listen to a 
 scheme by which free and full pardon might be 
 expected, in a way most honourable to the rights of 
 the divine government. And if no admonitions can 
 bring those who are now insensible to such a tem- 
 per, we can only lament, that their conviction is 
 delayed to so late, and probably to so fatal, a day. 
 
 But if there be any where in a Christian and 
 protestant nation, a man not yet thoroughly con- 
 vinced of Christianity, who, on the principles of 
 
 natural religion, reverences and loves the great 
 Author of his being ; who pours out his soul before 
 him in the exercise of public and private devotion ; 
 who humbly traces every intimation of his will 
 which he has already received, that he may yield a 
 constant and uniform obedience to it ; and seeks 
 illumination from the great Father of lights for the 
 further discovery of it: if there be a person, who 
 though yet in the state of hesitation concerning the 
 divine authority of the Scriptures, will diligently 
 search them, not with a view to cavil and object, 
 but honestly to see what is the genius and design 
 of them, and will also read and consult the ablest 
 defenders of Christianity, in order to gain a fuller 
 information in its evidences ; I will venture to pro- 
 nounce, that such a man is not far from the kingdom 
 of God, and doubt not, but that according to the 
 declaration of our faithful Saviour, he will ere long 
 know that the doctrine is of God. I cannot believe 
 that such a one ever died an infidel ; because I have 
 abundantly stronger evidence that Christianity is 
 true, than I have of the virtue of any one who died 
 denying it. But you well know, Sir, that the 
 generality of our deists are quite out of the present 
 question, being most of them such as a Roman 
 censor would not have borne in any of the highest 
 ranks of their citizens, how eagerly soever any may 
 pleadfor their admission into the NcwJerusalem, the 
 presence of God, and the mansions of the blessed. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is possible some may object with 
 regard to the person whom we described above, as 
 making so hopeful a progress towards embracing 
 the gospel, what will he be the better after all, when 
 it is embraced? What can the single circumstance 
 of believing Christianity to be true effect towards 
 recommending a man to the divine favour, who is 
 already supposed not only temperate, just, and 
 benevolent, but devout too? This is a question 
 which I have sometimes heard advanced, though I 
 do not recollect that you mention it; but I wonder 
 it should enter into any mind, who knows what the 
 faith which constitutes a man a real Christian is, 
 according to the account given of it above, agree- 
 able to the whole tenor of the New Testament: 
 and, by the way, had you. Sir, considered that, 
 you would have found very little room to triumph 
 (as you do, p. 10.) in our being obliged to pray for 
 its increase. Were it merely a speculative assent, 
 your arguments on this head would be as conclu- 
 sive as they are foreign to the Scripture idea of it ; 
 which is a cordial and practical acquiescence in the 
 scheme of salvation by Christ. This, Sir, evidently 
 includes in it a becoming affection towards the Son 
 of God, that illustrious person, whom, venerable and 
 amiable as he is, every infidel must necessarily neg- 
 lect, and to w horn, when once revealed, God may most 
 reasonably require express homage, duty, and subjec- 
 tion, on pain of his highest displeasure. Faith also, 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &tc. 
 
 1155 
 
 in this view of it, will be the foundation of such 
 deep humiliation before God, of such ardent love to 
 him, and does, in one word, so illustriously en- 
 noble and improve all the other branches of a lovely 
 and virtuous disposition ; that surely no one who 
 has either felt its power, or even studied its nature 
 and genuine influence, can long doubt to what 
 purpose it is demanded and insisted upon. And 
 he that has observed the effects it has produced, 
 and the illustrious as well as numerous victories it 
 has gained over the world, beyond what any other 
 principle could ever obtain, would be unable to 
 depreciate it, without greatly debasing the nature 
 and extent of that moral virtue, which he pretends 
 to exalt in preference to it ; as I think it were easy 
 to show at large, if the compass of this letter would 
 admit it. 
 
 And thus. Sir, I have given you my deliberate 
 thoughts on the reasonableness, justice, and neces- 
 sity, of the awful sentence which the gospel passes 
 on those who reject it; and whether it may move 
 you to gratitude, to anger, or to scorn, I cannot dis- 
 miss the subject witliout solemnly and earnestl}' 
 entreating you seriously to reflect upon it, as your 
 own concern, and to ask yourself, as an immortal 
 creature shortly to appear at the tribunal of God, 
 whether you have not reason to humble yourself 
 before him in the review of this, when compared 
 with the manner in which you have ventured to talk 
 on this tremendous subject? Your heart may per- 
 haps be less impressible; but I am sure that, for 
 my own part, were I to think, I will not say as an 
 humble Christian, but as a sober and religious 
 deist in character ought, if Christianity had never 
 been heard of, I would not for the whole world 
 presume to say, as you have in efl'ect frequently 
 done, " that an infinitely wise God could not give 
 a revelation attended with such rational evidence, 
 as should render every man to whom it canic^ 
 justly obnoxious to high penalties for rejecting it." 
 Nay, I think it would fill me with a.stonishment and 
 grief, that a mortal man should be found arrogant 
 and petulant enough to limit the Majesty of heaven 
 by such an assertion ; and to declare in express 
 words, a disdain at the mention of his lifted rod, 
 when lield out over those who should despise hi.s 
 appointed method of pardon and salvation. May 
 the hour never come when this ill-judged bravery 
 shall be lamented amidst inconsolable horrors! 
 
 After so copious an examination of this important 
 question, in which I have laboured to give you, 
 and my other readers, all the satisfaction I could, 
 I have not left myself room to mention many 
 other things in your essay, which might admit and 
 require animadversion. Of those yet remaining 
 unhandled, your account of the agency and office 
 of the divine Spirit seems the most considerable. 
 
 • N B. I here nippose cxfraordinary caien allowed for, aa above. 
 4 F. 2 
 
 I leave my reader to consult it for himself, as it 
 stands in your 56th and following pages: in which 
 he will find a mixture of truth and falsehood so 
 blended together, as, on the whole, to amount to a 
 scheme apparently contrary to fact ; and in theory 
 so wild, that he will not find it easy to believe it 
 could be seriously proposed by any who enjoyed 
 the use of his reason ; or that you in particular 
 meant any thing by it, unless it were to expose 
 Christianity, by representing this as its doctrine, 
 and its grand foundation. 
 
 You must at least. Sir, add the sanction of your 
 name to your pamphlet, before you will be thought 
 seriously to teach, (as in p. 59.) " that every bap- 
 tized person is inspired in a moment with an irre- 
 sistible light from heaven," which yet, according to 
 your 63d page, may be resisted, and thereby make 
 infidelity criminal ; '* a liglit by which our faith is 
 completed in an instant, the most perfect and finish- 
 ed creed produced at once, and made self-evident 
 to the mind in which it is lodged, in a way perhaps 
 little differing from intuition itself ; such characters 
 being stamped upon the heart, as no misrepresent- 
 ation can ever possibly intervene to corrupt, no 
 succeeding suggestions of a different style to dis- 
 pute the preference, or shake its authority in the 
 mind." In one word, " we are" in consequence of 
 this extraordinary operation, (if wc are to take thp 
 matter as j'ou represent it,) " brought under a 
 monitor and guardian, which does not leave us for 
 a moment to the possibility of error and imposi- 
 tion." These, Sir, are your own words ; and if any 
 reader, to whom I am personally a stranger, should 
 question whether any thing so absurd as the last 
 clause is any where in tlie world to be found, your 
 60th page will convince him how faithfully they are 
 transcribed. 
 
 I apprehend, perhaps with you, that merely to 
 propose this notion, is to confute if. However, for 
 the credit of the Christian world, I am glad to say, 
 it is no very common one, and may, for any thing I 
 at present know, be quite peculiar; whatever un- 
 guarded approaches some good men may have made 
 towards it, or whatever airs of infallibility they may 
 have assumed, which, to do you justice, I cannot 
 but imagine you meant by all this gallimatia to ex- 
 pose. It would be an easy matter to vindicate fhc 
 Scriptures, which you have pressed in to support 
 this strange representation ; but every good com- 
 mentary upon them may furnish the reader with an 
 antidote against such an interpretation, if his own 
 reflections do not (as might reasonably be expected) 
 immediately supersede the necessity of having re- 
 course to any commentary at all. I shall not there- 
 fore at present pursue the matter any further; but 
 leave you to be confuted, I will not say by every 
 rational Christian writer on this subject, but even 
 by every error which any good Christian has fallen 
 
TRACTS. 
 
 into, on tins hcnil, or on any other ; for every sueli 
 error as ellcctiially confutes this notion, as a thou- 
 sand volumes of tlie strictest argument could do it. 
 
 Nevertheless, Sir, if you still continue to urge the 
 matter, and the public seem desirous of it, I may 
 perhaps take this your third general under as par- 
 ticular a consideration as your two former. In the 
 mean time, I am satisfied, that none who knows 
 me will imagine, that I have declined the task from 
 any suspicions which I entertain concerning the 
 reality or importance of the operations of the bless- 
 ed Spirit on the mind, to enlighten and renew, to 
 sanctify and strengthen, to cheer and to guide, the 
 cliildren of God, and the heirs of glory. I am con- 
 tinually bearing my testimony to this great and 
 weighty truth in my sermons and writings ; as I can 
 never expect that any course of preaching or writ- 
 ing can be useful to the souls of men, in which so 
 glorious a doctrine of Christianity is either denied 
 or omitted. 
 
 There are many other particulars in your letter, 
 about which I shall have no controversy with you at 
 all, but shall willingly leave those deities to plead, 
 whose altars you have east down. The imputation 
 of the faith of sureties to the baptized infant ;— the 
 necessary connexion between the administration of 
 that rite, and the communication of some extraor- 
 dinary induences of the Spirit; — the power of the 
 magistrate to determine articles of faith, and to 
 impose forms of worship by sanguinary laws, or 
 laws in any lower degree penal ; — the compelling 
 young persons to declare tiieir sentiments on some 
 of the nicest tlieological controversies, before they 
 can be supposed at all to have examined them, — 
 and frowning severely upon them, as soon as they 
 appear to suspect, what they never had any con- 
 vincing evidence to engage them to believe : — 
 these, and some other particulars, (which lie be- 
 tween the 95th and 101st page of your book,) I 
 confess you have rallied with a just severity. And 
 I am particularly pleased with tlic serious air with 
 which the raillery on these heads is carried, even 
 to the defence of fire and faggot in the cause of re- 
 ligion ; from which I presume, Sir, you appreliend 
 yourself to be in no danger. It will, no doubt, be 
 of service to those readers, who, without such a 
 key, might, in the simplicity of their hearts, have 
 been led into a wrong judgment of your views, 
 from those airs of devotion and orthodoxy, which 
 you assume in other passages. 
 
 A design to overthrow natural religion, as well as 
 revealed ; to confound the nature of virtue and 
 vice, and subvert, so far as a mortal can do it, the 
 throne of God among men ; to destroy all the found- 
 ations of truth, justice, and benevolence, which 
 arise from a persuasion of his divine presence and 
 provide,ncc, leaving us to all the absurdities, the 
 temptations, and miseries of atheism ; is so black 
 
 and so horrid an enormity, that I would by no means 
 charge it, by any train of consequences, even on a 
 nameless author. And indeed I will not allow my- 
 self so much as to think, that you were capable of 
 setting yourself about it, as our law expresses it in 
 matters of much less importance, " knowingly and 
 with malice forethought." Charity teaches me 
 rather to hope, that it was in mere sport, and wan- 
 tonness of heart, you have thrown about these fire- 
 brands, arrows, and death. But what the sport has 
 been, the weapons themselves shall show : and 
 whatever you meant, I think it my duty, before I 
 conclude, to show, that you have, in fact, laid the 
 foundation of the Temple of Confusion, (if I may 
 be allowed the expression,) and pointed out the w ay 
 to the utter destruction of religion, in every form, 
 and in every degree. I hope, therefore, Sir, that 
 how ungrateful soever the subject may be, you will 
 give me a patient hearing, while I spend a few 
 moments in the illustration of it; partly lest some 
 unthinking people, dazzled by the sophistry of your 
 boasted arguments, should implicitly follow you, 
 not knowing w hitlier they go ; and partly, as I in- 
 sinuated in the entrance of my former letter, tliat I 
 apprehended your pamphlet had such a tendency ; 
 for I should think I acted unworthy my character as 
 a Christian and a divine, if I left such an insinu- 
 ation entirely supported. And in deed,<S ir, if your 
 pamphlet has those views, which (so far as I can 
 learn) are universally imputed to it, I should hope 
 nothing might be more likely to convince you of the 
 weakness of those arguments, by which you attempt 
 to shake the foundation of Christianity, than to show 
 you, that if they prove any thing, they prove a great 
 deal too much ; prove, what I hope you would 
 abhor, as infinitely the most pernicious of all false- 
 hoods. 
 
 In order, if possible, to make you sensible of this, 
 give me leave to suppose an atheist, or if that be too 
 great a monster to be supposed, a sceptic, who has, 
 and will have, no fixed sentiments in religion of any 
 kind, addressing himself to you, or to some patron of 
 natural leligion, on your own principles, and in many 
 of your own words, to some such purpose as this : 
 
 " It is a most absurd thing, so much as to pre- 
 tend to offer any defence of religion, so far as even 
 to argue the existence of a Deity from the works of 
 nature, or to go about to prove that we lie under 
 any obligations to sobriety, honesty, or mutual 
 kindness. If such disputes as these be allowed, 
 there is no ensuring conviction. (P. 5.) If the 
 motives, even to these virtues, may be examined 
 and considered, they may be innocently rejected 
 too ; for w ho shall ascertain the moment when I am 
 to become virtuous, if I am allowed to examine why 
 I am to be so ! (P. 93.) Your boasted rational evi- 
 dence of these things is a false, unwarranted notion, 
 without the least ground to support it in nature. 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1157 
 
 (P. 7.) You say, all men are to think alike upon 
 these topics, all to acknowledge, there is an origi- 
 nal, intellectual Being, endowed with all natural 
 and moral perfections, and that all the rules of vir- 
 tue and duty are to be inviolably observed : but how 
 should these reasons of yours, whatever they are, 
 and which therefore I will not condescend so much 
 as to hear, produce this unity of opinion in these 
 important articles ? I disdain to bestow a second 
 thought on so preposterous a scheme. (P. 8.) Tell 
 me not, that by neglecting to inquire into the exist- 
 ence of a God, and thereby running into an utter 
 disregard to all that gratitude, veneration, and obe- 
 dience, which, you say, I owe him, I may incur his 
 displeasure ; or that by refusing to inquire into the 
 nature and obligations of virtue, I may incur a 
 thousand other inconveniences ; — I cannot have 
 patience to be threatened into consequences, to be 
 talked to of danger in decisions, and to have the 
 rod held out with the lesson. (Ibid.) It is impossi- 
 ble there should be any such thing as rational re- 
 ligion ; for if it be necessary at all, it must be 
 equally necessary for all men, and at all times. 
 Children must love and fear the Deity, before they 
 could know any thing of him : and their knowledge, 
 if built upon such principles as these you offer me, 
 would come quite .too late to regulate the practice. 
 (P. 13.) You say, you find religion reasonable in 
 speculation ; but I tell you, in your own words, 
 that is nothing to the purpose : the question is. 
 Whether I, and every man, be bound to believe it ? 
 (P. 18.) And w ho can imagine this, w ho considers, 
 how few men are qualified for reasoning; (p. 17.) 
 and how possible it is, that if the examination of 
 these things were to be attempted, a man might not 
 live long enough to go through with the proof ? 
 (Ibid.) What if indeed it be so, that the perfec- 
 tions of the Deity, and the obligations of virtue, may 
 be rationally demonstrated ; yet, you know, the 
 generality of apprehensions extend not beyond a 
 i simple proposition, and are thrown out at once at 
 the very mention of a medium : (Ibid.) nay, the very 
 ablest and best of men arc (as you have taught me) 
 disqualified for fair reasoning by their natural pre- 
 judices. We atheists have contracted a partiality 
 for particular objects and notions, familiarized to us 
 by long acquaintance : an honest and natural fond- 
 ness for Hobbes, and Spinoza, and the rest of our old 
 friends, will never permit us to exert our judgments 
 in a disinterested manner ; not to say, how many of 
 the living may be concerned in the event." (P. 23.) 
 
 " Besides," might your atheistical or sceptical 
 disciple say, " it is an immense task you would 
 assign me, a task for which years will not suflice, to 
 run through all the acute and metaphysical writers, 
 masters in Israel, who have each of them had their 
 darling argument, and many of them perhaps writ- 
 ten whole folios to illustrate it. Or if you would 
 
 lead me to quit the high priori road, (without 
 examining which, it is nevertheless plain that I can 
 have no full idea of the subject,) and would argue 
 from second causes and the harmony of nature, how 
 can I judge of this without understanding the laws of 
 nature ? and how can I attain the knowledge of those 
 laws, but by a deep and long attention to mathemati- 
 cal studies .' As I must take the faith of a Deity in the 
 way to complete virtue, according to your circular 
 argument, that he who comes to God, must believe 
 that he is ; (p. 78.) so I must also take Sir Isaac 
 Newton's Principia, after a great many other pre- 
 paratory books, in the way to that faith. And 
 however the gentlemen of the Boylean Lecture, on 
 whom you so pleasantly exercise j-our talent of 
 raillery, may confine their hearers to examine only 
 into the evidence on one side of the question ; I 
 hope you. Sir, will give me leave to hear what my 
 brethren, the atheists and fatalists, have said to 
 destroy religion, as well as what its votaries have 
 said in its defence." 
 
 " Now," may he proceed to say, " if by some 
 happy conjunction of circumstances, I have genius, 
 and learning, and resolution, and leisure, and for- 
 tune enough to go through tliis encyclopa>dia of 
 ethical and physico-theological studies, it is not the 
 happiness of one in a thousand ; and yet according 
 to you, natural religion and morality arc matters of 
 universal concern. And which is worse than all, 
 when I have finished this course, in some future 
 distant period of life, if I happen to attain it, the 
 event of this examination is quite uncertain. Per- 
 haps all my labour may be lost, and I may find 
 myself obliged to sit down in my present infidelity; 
 or if I attain to any notion of these things, they may 
 be changeable with every wind of doctrine. (P. 
 26.) Nay, if I continue to believe, my faith will 
 administer no comfort in the refiection ; for I shall 
 continually forget the fundamental principles, on 
 which I have formed my determination ; (p. 29.) 
 and even while I remember Ihcni, my faith will 
 never inlluence r.iy practice. (P. 13.) You," may 
 this importunate echo of your philosophy and wis- 
 dom retort, "you, who have studied what virtue is, 
 tell aic it will require me to diuiy my appetites, and 
 to bridge my passions : but what w ill all these prin- 
 ciples (even the rational apprehensions of the 
 presence of God himself, a view to his favour, and 
 the expectation of immortality) do, wlien weighed 
 in the scale against demonstrative good, (p. 32.) 
 i. e. the pleasure of sense, and the tics of secular 
 interest? The most valuable reversion is but of 
 small regard, when compared with that which is 
 actually before us. To what purpose then should I 
 lavish away my time, my labour, and my substance, 
 to build a vessel, which, even while you offer me 
 the plan of it, you tell me will founder in the first 
 storm, if it be not saved by miracle." 
 
1158 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 Ami now, Sir, arise and plead the injured eause 
 of God and of virtue, against all tliis train of 
 wretched soi)liistry ; and I will venture to say, that 
 tlie arguments, and the distinctions, by which you 
 confute the atheist, shall be your own answer. You 
 will not, for shame, acknowledge that he reasoned 
 justly, in a speech like this, which I, or rather 
 yourself, have put into his mouth. You would not 
 urge him to throw up all thoughts of the reasons 
 and evidences of natural religion, and to wait " till 
 he he inspired in a moment with an irresistible 
 light from heaven, by which his faith should be 
 completed in an instant, a perfect creed produced 
 at once, and made self-evident to the mind, in a 
 way little dUTcrent from intuition." (P. 59.) I 
 charitably believe you would think the subject too 
 serious for such kind of jargon, and forgetting your 
 harangue to your Oxonian friend, you would grave- 
 ly inculcate verj' difl'ercnt principles. 
 
 You would, no doubt, show your antagonist, that 
 he talked in a very crude and indigested manner, 
 and confounded things, which should by all means 
 be carefully distinguished, and indeed are very 
 easily distinguishable. — You would then to be sure 
 own, and urge, that all mankind are capable of 
 some reasoning, unless they be lunatics, or idiots, 
 who are confessedly out of the present question : 
 and that the great proofs of religion are so plain, 
 that a few words, and a little time and labour, may 
 clear them beyond all reasonable objections. — You 
 would remind him, that common sense might teach 
 him in general to distinguish between what is es- 
 sential, and what is merely circumstantial, in an 
 argument, and might find out a medium between 
 being exquisitely learned in the history of contro- 
 versies relating to the Deity, and utterly unac- 
 quainted with any reason for believing his exist- 
 ence. — You would tell him, that the great Author 
 of nature, having given him some hints of his being 
 and perfections, (which the very questioning of 
 them, or even the denial, would prove he in fact 
 had,) might justly require, that he should seriously 
 and candidly weigh. at least the most obvious 
 proofs ; w hich, if he did, he would undoubtedly see 
 Lis obligations to believe and practise accordingly. 
 And when he urged the inelTieaey of these persua- 
 sions to influence his practice, you would perhaps 
 add, before you were w ell aware, — that if a rational 
 creature could commit such an outrage upon rea- 
 .son, as to rush on to prohibited gratifications, in the 
 apprehended presence of God, and at the known 
 expense of his favour, he must charge the fatal 
 consequence on himself alone ; and might, in the 
 mean time, be ashamed to confess himself so mean 
 a slave to every irregular propensity of appetite and 
 passion, and to talk of the demonstrative good of 
 those baits, which he knew in his own conscience 
 to be the instruments of final destruction. 
 
 In short. Sir, not to swell this rccajiitulalion, 
 into which I am thus accidentally fallen, to the 
 length that you have yourself given, (p. 109 — 111.) 
 I think you must answer him by the very same 
 considerations, which I urged in my former letter, 
 when replying to you, and by consequence must 
 confute yourself. And as one who knows the im- 
 portance of the matter, and wishes nothing more 
 sincerely than to see you extricated from these 
 labyrinths of sophistry and error, I do now beseech 
 you, that you would enter into your own con- 
 science, while the matter stands in this point of 
 light, and ask yourself, how you could possibly, on 
 your own principles, reply to this enemy of natural 
 religion ? I dare say, the public would be pleased 
 to see how you would manage the debate. But 
 if you could not defend even natural religion 
 without confuting yourself, then consider how you 
 will answer it to God, and to the world, not openly 
 to renounce tenets that must be so utterly subver- 
 sive of it. 
 
 You are pleased. Sir, in one of your concluding 
 pages, (p. 112.) to intimate your purpose of offering 
 up in behalf of your young friend " your most 
 ardent prayers at the throne of grace, that God 
 would illuminate and irradiate his mind with a 
 perfect and thorough conviction of the truth of his 
 holy gospel." But if the end of your letter be in- 
 deed, what I find every body I converse with sup- 
 poses it was, to overthrow what you here call " the 
 holy gospel," and presently after, "that divine 
 law dictated by the Holy Spirit ;" I cannot forbear 
 saying, that such a speech as this would become an 
 atheist much better than a deist. It is, in that case, 
 so notorious an insult on the majesty of God, and 
 the throne of his grace, as one would imagine no 
 creature should dare to commit, who apprehended 
 but a remote possibility that he might at length be 
 obliged to prostrate himself before it, and ask the 
 life of his soul there. It would pain my heart so 
 much to think you should be capable of carrying 
 impiety to such a height, that I am sometimes ready 
 rather to forget all that looks like infidelity and 
 profaneness in what you had before written, and 
 charitably to hope, though against hope, and though 
 it be perhaps at some expense of my character that 
 I should mention it, that you are indeed a devout 
 though irrational believer of the gospel, and that 
 your treatise is to be numbered amongst tiie won- 
 ders which enthusiasm has wrought. But whether 
 you wrote this passage in earnest or in jest, it is 
 with all seriousness I now assure you, that I pour 
 out my ardent prayers before the throne of grace 
 for you ; that by the secret influences of the blessed 
 Spirit on your heart, (to whose agency no preju- 
 dices are invincible,) you may be led into a wiser 
 and happier way of thinking than you seem at pre- 
 sent to entertain ; and that God may not charge to 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1159 
 
 your account the luin of tliose souls, whom this 
 unhappy pamphlet, whatever was intended by it, 
 has so palpable and so fatal a tendency to destroy. 
 Could what I have written, in either of these Let- 
 ters, be at all subservient to the accomplishment of 
 this wish, it would be one of the most sensible 
 pleasures which can ever reach the heart of. 
 Sir, 
 
 Your faithful humble servant, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Northampton, Dec. 1, 1742. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 When I concluded my last Letter to you, I was not 
 determined upon this Third Address : but I make 
 it in compliance with the request of several of my 
 friends, who think, that in order to do full justice 
 to the work I have undertaken, I ought to consider 
 your Third Part. This they the rather urge, as it 
 may give me an opportunity of vindicating an im- 
 portant doctrine of Scripture, which some of the 
 friends of Christianity have unwarily represented 
 in such a view, as to encourage its enemies to 
 endeavour to plant their artillery against the gospel, 
 on that ground, from whence, if there be due care 
 taken, it is most capable of being defended. I am 
 the more willing to comply with this request, be- 
 cause I find your ingenious correspondent at Oxford 
 (whose letter to you has, I doubt not, given the 
 world a great deal of pleasure) has modestly 
 omitted the discussion of this, as well as of several 
 other points, which I have examined at large in my 
 two former letters. 
 
 I proceed therefore directly to the consideration 
 of what you have advanced in the third part of your 
 book ; in which you undertake to show, that Chris- 
 tianity cannot be founded on argument, i. e. that 
 wc cannot be obliged to exercise our reason in dis- 
 covering its evidences, or judging of its doctrines, 
 because God has prescribed another, and very dif- 
 ferent method of coming at the knowledge of divine 
 truths ; which is (as you represent it in the 56th 
 and following pages) the immediate operation of 
 the Holy Spirit upon our minds, infallibly dictating 
 to us the whole scheme and system of them, in such 
 a manner, as to leave nothing to be done by our- 
 selves, but merely to receive and assent to doctrines 
 seen by their own light, under the influence of his 
 teachings. 
 
 Now here. Sir, had you separated some things, 
 which you offer in illustration and proof of this 
 general assertion, from the rest, I should have been 
 
 very ready to have acknowledged their truth and 
 their moment, and, had it been necessary, (which I 
 am well aware it would not have been,) to have 
 joined with you in the defence of both ; as you will 
 easily see by what I am further to offer, and must 
 indeed well perceive from what I have alreadj' 
 written in this controversy, even though you should 
 be ever so much a stranger to my other writings ; in 
 all which I am continually referring to the necessity 
 of divine influences on the mind, to form it to know- 
 ledge and holiness ; and in some of which, (parti- 
 cularly my seventh Sermon on Regeneration,) I 
 have set myself to defend the doctrine at large, in 
 a manner which must certainly appear very sincere, 
 and will, I hope, be found thoroughly convincing 
 to all, who will seriously weigh it, and will abide 
 by Scripture as the standard of their faith.* But 
 my complaint is, that what you teach on this head, 
 though in many places very true, and expressed 
 with great propriety, is intermingled and connected 
 with other assertions, which seem to me quite un- 
 scriptural, and extravagant; and which, if they 
 were to be admitted, must necessarily end in the 
 subversion of Christianity. For all your scheme 
 centres in this, " that these influences and assist- 
 ances of the Spirit of God are of such a kind, as to 
 contain an ample revelation of the whole system of 
 Christianity, to every particular person who is the 
 suljject of it; so as to supersede the necessity of 
 any rational inquiry into the evidences or contents 
 of religion ; and in such a manner as to place him 
 above all dc|)endenee on Scripture, and, in one word, 
 to make him absolutely infallible." 
 
 That the reader may not imagine I mistake your 
 meaning, and aggravate the matter beyond due 
 bounds, I shall transcribe a few passages of yours, 
 in which it will plainly appear that you carry the 
 matter to this extravagant height. And whoever 
 attentively considers the connexion of many of these 
 passages with the rest, will immediately find, that 
 what is most extravagant in these assertions, is so 
 essential to your scheme, that were these passages 
 to be moderated, tlie mention of this doctrine would 
 be quite foreign to your purpose. 
 
 While you plead for the reality and necessity of 
 
 * Iliid 1 not observed many other murks of very great li.isle in good 
 IMr. Sragrave's paniplilc t, in wliicli lie lias undertaken toadjiist matters 
 between lis, long before be bad beard iiie out ; I should liave Ijeeii 
 muih surprised to sec myself charged with representing the "agency 
 of the Spirit as only necessary to confirm faith, and quicken obedience, ' 
 and with intimating that " saving faith must of course follow a reli- 
 gious education." Surely, be is too honest thus to misquote my words 
 with design, or to say such things, bad he read with any attention at 
 all, I will not say, my Sermons on i;diication, (in wliicli I strongly assert 
 the contrary, as well as in those on Itegeneralion,) but even the 34lli 
 page of my First Letter, on which be animadverts; in which I speak of 
 tlie " influences of divine grace" as necessary to the success of the 
 most pious and prudent attempt which parents can make: and in my 
 Second I,ettcr, published several days before bis pamphlet, (p. 114.) I 
 speak of it "as the odice of the Spirit, to cn'lighten and renew, to 
 sand ify and strengthen, to cheer and guide the children of God and heirs 
 of glory." I believe this rashness to have been the effect of a pious, 
 though in tills respect ill governed, zeal, and therefore I can easily ex. 
 ciisc it ; hut my respect to that genllenian leads me to wish, that he 
 may have patience, as Solomon well expresses it, (I'rov. xviii. 1.1.) to 
 hear a matter Ijefore he answers it, because I desire that every thing iu 
 which he engages may be wisdom and honour to him. 
 
IIGO 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 sucli an influence, you call it, in tlic general, " A 
 constant and particular revelation, imparted sepa- 
 rately, and supernaturally, to every individual. " 
 (P. 112.) And dsewlierc, (p. 56.) you .speak of the 
 Spirit as " the great Dietator, and infallible Guide, 
 who is the promised Oracle to attend believers to 
 the end of the world, to irradiate their souls at once, 
 as the all-suirieient Origin of faith, in opposition to 
 the aids and ad\iecs of reason." This you call 
 (p. 58.) " the light of inspiration, and infused evi- 
 dence, which is of immediate inlluence, and ope- 
 rates, as in the case of Saul, (as if that were to be 
 considered as a common standard,) without delay :" 
 " A principle, which effects conversion" (you 
 must, I suppose, mean, to the belief of Christianity 
 as a speculative truth) " by an irresistible liglit from 
 heaven, and (lashes conviction in a moment ; — pro- 
 ducing," as you express it, (p. 59.) " the most per- 
 fect and tinished creed at once ;" — so as to be " the 
 sum and substance of all argunientation, and " 
 (whatever that sublime expression may mean) " the 
 very spirit and extract of all convincing power, of 
 a nature, perhaps, but little differing from intuition 
 itself; — in consequence of which there is nothing in 
 the suspicious repositories of human testimony," 
 (in which, it is evident from other passages, you in- 
 clude Scripture,) " that can deserve the least notice; 
 or be thought worthy of a moment's attention on 
 this subject." You call it, (p. GO.) '' a present and 
 standing miracle of our own, in consequence of 
 which we stand no longer in need of any of the 
 credit of ancient miracles." You tell us, it produces 
 " such indelible characters stamped upon the heart, 
 as no misrepresentations can ever possibly intervene 
 to corrupt." And say, " that this faithful monitor 
 and guardian has promised to continue this ollice to 
 the end of the world, that we may not be left liable 
 one moment to a possibility of error and imposition." 
 So that, (not to multiply citations from many 
 parallel passages,) as you express it, (p. 90.) in as 
 strong and determinate terms as can be imagined, 
 " actual infallibility is the only title whereon to 
 ground any plausible claim to our disciplesliip." 
 
 Nov.', Sir, I seriously apprehend, that every in- 
 telligent reader will immediately conclude, that if 
 this representation of the matter were indeed the 
 genuine doctrine of Christianity itself, this third 
 part of your treatise, separate from the two former, 
 which I hope have been already sufficiently con- 
 futed, would alone be an unanswerable demonstra- 
 tion, that Christianity was false. If this be its 
 language, and these its engagements, it is evidently 
 condemned out of its own mouth, for surely all 
 Christians are not in fact infallible. Every error, 
 and every contradiction, maintained by any of them, 
 on one side the question or the other, evinces this ; 
 unless both parts of a contradiction could be true. 
 You must therefore, on these principles, reconcile 
 
 error and infallibility, which it seems very dillicult 
 to do ; unless you should think fit to evade that 
 necessity by saying, that they only, among all the 
 contending parties, are to be acknowledged for 
 Christians, who are free from error; from any 
 error, of any kind, or any degree, in any question 
 in which religion is concerned. And this surely, 
 in the judgment of every candid and impartial man, 
 would be no other than acknowledging, that there 
 is no such thing as a Christian now in the world. 
 And this would consequently prove Christianity 
 itself false, as it is confessedly a part of the scheme, 
 that it was to be perpetuated to all ages by a suc- 
 cession of faithful disciples ; which, according to 
 the whole of your argument, it was the design of 
 this extraordinary agency of the Spirit to secure. 
 
 The absurdity of this is so flragrant, that I sup- 
 pose you will rather clioose to say, that the reason 
 why Christians fail into error is, because they do 
 not follow this infallible guide. But you must give 
 me leave to remind you, that you have cut yourself 
 off from this retreat, by asserting this light to be 
 irresistible, and to flash conviction in a moment ; 
 and by saying expressly, that it is an indelible 
 character, instamped (as it seems by what you 
 elsewhere maintain) at our baptism, and incapable 
 of being corrupted. You cannot surely imagine 
 such a subterfuge consistent with saying, (as in the 
 place quoted above,) " that actual infallibility is 
 the only title to the claim of being a disciple." An 
 actual infallibility, liable for want of due attention 
 to be mistaken, is as incoherent an idea, as that of 
 a square circle, or a cylindrical cone. Christianity 
 must appear ridiculous, if it taught such a doc- 
 trine ; and you will, I hope. Sir, examine your own 
 conscience, as to the view in which you wished it 
 should appear, when you fathered such a scheme 
 upon it. 
 
 As I cannot remember ever to l.ave seen the doe- 
 trine of the Spirit's influence set in so injurious a 
 light, and turning so visibly to the reproach of that 
 gospel, to which, v^hen duly explained, it is so 
 distinguished a glory, I shall therefore set myself to 
 canvass this point at large : and hope to show, that 
 this misrepresentation of what the Scripture teaches 
 on this head, is as gross as the scheme itself is in- 
 consistent and absurd. 
 
 Now that this point may be set in as clear and 
 easy a light as possible, I shall endeavour to show, 
 
 First, That the Scripture may say many very im- 
 portant things of the agency and operation of the 
 Spirit on men's minds, without carrying it to such 
 a heiglit as you suppose. 
 
 Secondly, That it says many things concerning 
 these inlluences, and the persons under them, utterly 
 inconsistent with your scheme. And, 
 
 Thirdly, That the passages on which you build 
 your hypothesis, will none of them, if fairly inter- 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1161 
 
 pretetl, support it, and several of them are in them- 
 selves sufBcienl to subvert and overthrow it, though 
 the}- have been unnaturally pressed into a contrary 
 service. 
 
 Most of what I have further to offer in reply to 
 your Letter, will be comprehended under one or 
 other of these heads : but before I enter into the 
 discussion of them, I must take leave to premise 
 one preliminary ; which is, That the question we are 
 debating, is not by any means to be decided by 
 human authority. I am very sensible, Sir, that 
 some eminent divines of the Roman communion, 
 and of the established church at home, as well as 
 among our nonconformists, have, in the zeal and 
 humility of their hearts, expressed themselves in a 
 manner which cannot be defended, and thereby 
 have given too plausible an occasion for your dan- 
 gerous and fatal misrepresentations. Yet I am not 
 aw are, that any of them, even Bishop Beveridge, or 
 the celebrated Archbishop of Cambray himself, ever 
 ran your lengths ; and their other writings show, 
 how utterly they would have abhorred some of the 
 consequences w hich you have drawn or suggested, 
 from these principles. But my business is with 
 the laiu, and with the testimony ; and where these 
 holy and excellent men have not spoken according 
 to that rule, I cainiot believe that celestial light to 
 have been in them, or suppose their minds under 
 the guidance of that Spirit, whom, though by ill- 
 judged methods, it was undoubtedly their sincere 
 and affectionate desire to glorify. Taking the mat- 
 ter, therefore, as the Scripture represents it, it will 
 be very easy to show, 
 
 First, That the Scripture may say many very high 
 and important things concerning the agency and 
 operation of the blessed Spirit on the hearts of 
 believers, without carrying it so far as you represent, 
 or laying any just foundation for the arguments you 
 would build on such passages. — Many things may 
 be said of the Xapirrixara, or the extraordinary gifts 
 and powers of ths apostles and primitive Christians, 
 which were so peculiar to that age, that we have no 
 personal concern in them at all :— and many things 
 might he said of those operations which were to 
 continue in all ages of the church, which though of 
 great moment and universal concern, may fall very 
 far short of what you assert, and must maintain, in 
 order to establish the consequences you would 
 connect with these principles. 
 
 It is of great importance here to recollect, (though 
 you have artfully contrived, if possible, to keep 
 your readers from sucli a view,) that many things 
 J II Scripture, which relate to the operations of the 
 Spirit of God on the mind, have a reference to 
 those extraordinary gifts, vchich were peculiar to 
 the apostles, and in which we of these later ages 
 have no further concern, than as the general 
 knowledge of them may establish our regard to 
 
 the writings of those eminent servants of Christ, 
 who were wisely and graciously distinguished by 
 their divine Master, by such extraordinary endow- 
 ments, to fit them for the extraordinary office they 
 sustained : an office, by which they were called out 
 to plant the gospel, amidst a thousand oppositions, 
 discouragements, and dangers, in countries where it 
 was before utterly unknown ; and also to draw up 
 those important and sacred records, by which the 
 knowledge of it was, in the purest and most com- 
 prehensive manner, to be communicated to the 
 remotest ages and nations. It would be quite 
 foreign from rny purpose, to enter into a nice enu- 
 meration of their peculiar gifts and powers. It 
 plainly appears congruous to the general scheme of 
 Providence, so far as we can judge of it, that 
 persons destined for such a work should have some 
 uncommon furniture for it ; not only beyond what 
 could be expected by Christians in future ages, 
 when the gospel was settled in the world, and many 
 ordinary helps provided, of which the church was 
 then destitute ; but also beyond what could be pre- 
 tended to by private Christians, or even by subor- 
 dinate ministers, in those early days: and accord- 
 ingly, modest and humble as the apostles were, we 
 frequently find them speaking in their writings as 
 the authorized ambassadors of Christ, who bore 
 unequalled credentials from him ; to whose decisions 
 therefore, both churches and their ministers were 
 to submit, if they would not incur the guilt of de- 
 spising their common Lord. 
 
 It w ill on these premises therefore be very readily 
 granted to you, that these holy men might, as you 
 speak, " have many particular revelations, sepa- 
 rately and supernaturally imparted to each;" and 
 that in such a manner as, while they were receiving 
 them, might so far supersede the exercise of reason, 
 as to leave them only to observe, report, and record, 
 the oracles of God, delivered to them, as of old to 
 the prophets, who spake as they were immediately 
 moved, or borne on, by the Holy Ghost, though all 
 the Lord's people had no warrant to expect to be so 
 immediately instructed and favoured. Whatever 
 were the peculiar signification of the word of wis- 
 dom, and the word of knowledge, which were given 
 to the apostles by the Spirit, (concerning which 
 there has been, and perhaps still may be, much de- 
 bate,) it is put out of question by many evident 
 passages in the New Testament, that the apostles 
 were divinely assisted in the interpretation of the 
 sacred oracles of the Old, and were also favoured 
 with such comprehensive views of the whole Chris- 
 tian scheme, as they could not have learnt by any 
 human methods of investigation, or even by the per- 
 sonal instructions they had received from Christ in 
 the days of his flesh, who expressly referred them 
 to the Spirit as the great Teacher, by whom they 
 were to be instructed in many things which, while 
 
llfi-2 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 he was with thcni, Ihcy were not able to bear. Tlicsc 
 were such things, as eye had not seen, nor car 
 Iicard, neither had it entered into the heart of man 
 to conceive them ; and it is easy to imagine, that 
 with respect to these, they might very properly say, 
 in a sense peculiar to themselves, God hath revealed 
 them to us by his Spirit, which scarcheth all tilings, 
 even the deep things of God : for we have received 
 the Spirit which is of God, that we might know the 
 things uhich are freely given us of God; which 
 things also we speak, in words which the Holy 
 Ghost teacheth, so as to be judged by no man, be- 
 cause we have the mind of Christ. 
 
 These, Sir, were glorious apostolical preroga- 
 tives, in the liighest sense which the words will 
 bear ; yet I cannot but observe, that, so far as we 
 can judge by the New Testament, the degree of in- 
 spiration granted to them would not warrant some 
 of those expressions which you use, when describing 
 that which you suppose common to every Ciiristian. 
 You will find it hard to prove, that all this convic- 
 tion was flashed into their souls in a moment; that 
 a finished creed was produced in their minds at 
 once ; and that none of them were for a moment 
 left liable to a possibility of error. I think the con- 
 trary is demonstrable, even with regard to them ; 
 though I doubt not their being at length led into all 
 necessary truth, and qualified to transmit it to us, 
 without any mixture or alloy of falsehood. 
 
 The Scripture may also, without establishing 
 your peculiar doctrines on this head, further leach, 
 (as I am well satisfied it does,) that the Holy Spirit 
 was to continue with the church in all ages, even to 
 the end of the world ; that it was to be his stated 
 office to convince men of sin, to direct their believing 
 regards to a Saviour, and to glorify Christ, by 
 taking of his things, and showing them, not only to 
 the apostles, but to succeeding believers. It may 
 (teach us, that, by his influence, God, who com- 
 manded the light to shine out of darkness, shines 
 into our hearts, to give the knowledge of his glory, 
 as reflected from the face of his Son ; that he irra- 
 diates our understandings, and sanctifies our affec- 
 tions, so that in consequence of this, when we com- 
 mence cordial believers, we are born of the Spirit. 
 The whole genius of Scripture may lead us (as I 
 am fully persuaded it does) chiefly to ascribe unto 
 his gracious influences our understanding in divine 
 things, as well as our dispositions to comply with 
 the method of salvation which the gospel exhibits, 
 and w ith the precepts it establishes. All this may 
 be granted, may be asserted, may be contended for, 
 without maintaining " a constant and supernatural 
 revelation, to be imparted to every individual, so 
 as to be the all-suflicient origin of faith," not only 
 in neglect of the aids of reason, but " in opposition 
 to them." There may be all that I have here sup- 
 posed, and yet there may be no " irresistible light, 
 
 to flash such a conviction in a moment, as to pro- 
 duce a finished creed at once ; so that from that 
 illustrious era of illumination, " Scripture should 
 be thought unworthy of a moment's attention, and 
 a standing miracle produced, which should super- 
 sede our necessity of attending to those which were 
 anciently wrought in confirmation of the gospel." 
 Great encouragement may be given, in the use of 
 rational means, to hope for the continued influence 
 of the Spirit to improve our knowledge ; though we 
 may be, not only for a single moment, but during 
 every moment of our lives, liable to err in the 
 circumstantials of religion : nay, I see no reason to 
 ground the claim of our discipleship upon any pre- 
 tence at all to actual infallibility. 
 
 Prove Sir, if it lies in your power, the necessary 
 connexion between what I have here acknowledged, 
 (I think, with most other Christians in all ages,) 
 and that part of your scheme, which I here deny 
 to be by any means a consequence from it. For 
 you musteasily see, that these controverted branches 
 of it are the only foundation of that conclusion, 
 towards which you are all along driving : since 
 upon any other hypothesis, but that which the 
 extravagant language I have so often repeated ex- 
 presses, the humble and diligent use of our own 
 reason in matters of religion is so far from being 
 superseded, that, on the other hand, it will (as I 
 shall presently show more at large) appear a most 
 necessary duty, in consequence of this very promise 
 of divine assistance ; if we would not turn it into 
 an ungrateful insult on those natural methods of 
 information which Providence has given us, and to 
 the improvement of which the promises of gmce 
 were intended to animate us. 
 
 Having thus illustrated and confirmed this gene- 
 ral remark, which may be applied to a multitude of 
 texts in the New Testament, which it may not by 
 any means be necessary particularly to enumerate 
 in this debate, I now proceed, 
 
 Secondly, To show that the Scripture says many 
 things concerning the influences of the Spirit, and 
 the persons under various degrees of them, which 
 are utterly irreconcilable with your representation 
 of them, as stated above. 
 
 And here the leading thought is, that the New 
 Testament, (of which we here especially speak,) 
 frequently supposes, and expressly requires and 
 institutes, the use of such means, in persons under 
 the illuminating and sanctifying influences of the 
 Spirit, as you suppose to be entirely superseded by 
 those influences. 
 
 And for the truth of this, I appeal to the whole 
 tenor of the sacred writings, in which you find such 
 exhortations and instructions given, and such re- 
 gards required to them, as must certainly prove, 
 how far the Christians to whom they arc directed, 
 were from such an extent, and such an infallibility 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1163 
 
 of knowledge, as you suppose inseparably connected 
 with a claim of discipleship, and necessarily to 
 result from the teachings of their divine Monitor. 
 But it would be tedious and useless to take up my 
 reader's time with particulars: let him read over 
 the Epistles to the Corinthians and Galatians in 
 particular with your principles in his view, and 
 judge whether almost every chapter, and in some 
 places every verse, does not strongly declaim against 
 them. Indeed, according to your representation of 
 the matter, nothing could have been more superflu- 
 ous, than the very institution of a stated ministry in 
 the church. According to St. Paul's view of it, this 
 was a great and important design of our blessed 
 Redeemer, when after the triumph of his ascension 
 he distributed the royal donative of his Spirit, and 
 gave under its influence, besides apostles, prophets 
 and evangelists, pastors and teachers ; — to perfect 
 the saints for the work of the ministry, in order to 
 the gradual edification of tlie body of Christ ; till 
 all should come, in the unity of the faith, and of the 
 knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, 
 even unto the complete measure of the stature of 
 the fulness of Christ, or to the state of a full-grown 
 Christian. Reconcile this. Sir, if you can, with 
 your scheme of their sliooting up at once, into the 
 full knowledge of every thing relating to religion, 
 into actual infallibility, and such a glorious inde- 
 pendency on all the methods of human instruction. 
 
 The contrariety of this to the whole scheme and 
 tenor of Scripture is so plain, that I shall add on 
 tills head only one remark, as a specimen of many 
 more which might fill a volume : I mean, that such 
 advices are given even to those who were appointed 
 the teachers of others, and consequently must be 
 supposed to have a peculiar share of divine and su- 
 pernatural illumination; whereas, on your hypo- 
 thesis, they would have been unnecessary, even to 
 the least and meanest of their charge. Thus, when 
 Paul takes his leave of the elders at Ephesus, he 
 solemnly commends them to the word of God's 
 grace, as what was able to build them up. And 
 in terms yet less liable to objection, when writ- 
 ing to Timothy, (though as an evangelist, supe- 
 rior by far to the class of ordinary ministers, and 
 endowed with miraculous gifts nearly approaching 
 those of the apostolic office,) he charges him, in his 
 First Epistle, to give attendance to reading, and to 
 meditate on the divine things he had learnt : and 
 yet more expressly in his Second Epistle, as 
 Timothy from a child had known the Holy Scrip- 
 tures, which the apostle testifies were able to make 
 him wise to salvation, through faith in Christ Jesus, 
 he solemnly charges him to continue in the things 
 which he had learned ; that is, no doubt in the 
 study of those Scriptures, as well as of those in- 
 structions he had received from Paul ; each of 
 which would, according to you, have been equally 
 
 superseded. And then, instead of talking of " manu- 
 script authorities, and paper revelations, the su.s- 
 picious repositories of human testimony, in which 
 to a man illuminated from above, there could be 
 nothing of consequence enough to engage a mo- 
 ment's attention," (your own never to be forgotten 
 words,) the apostle closes the period with this 
 remarkable testimony ; All Scripture (or the whole 
 Scripture) is given by inspiration of God, and is 
 profitable for doctrine, as well as for reproof, for 
 correction, for instruction in righteousness ; that the 
 man of God, i. e. not only the Christian, but the 
 minister, the evangelist, the apostle, may be per- 
 fect, thoroughly furnished unto all good words. 
 
 And thus. Sir, by the review of these passages, in 
 comparison with a multitude more which might 
 easily be added to them, we are taught the true 
 Scripture doctrine of the illuminating influences of 
 the Spirit ; (which are now chiefly in question ;) and 
 I shall endeavour in a few words to propose it, 
 without the assistance and encumbrance of those 
 technical phrases, which modern divines have in- 
 troduced ; and which, how profitable soever many 
 of them may be, cannot I suppose seem absolutely 
 necessary, to any who regard the Scripture as a 
 complete rule. 
 
 Now I apprehend the substance of it to be this : 
 God is the great Father of lights, the Author of all 
 the understanding divided among the various ranks 
 of created beings ; who, as he at first formed the 
 minds of angels and men, continues the exercise of 
 their intellectual faculties, and one way or another 
 communicates to them all the knowledge, of every 
 kind, which they possess.* But whereas there 
 were certain points, w hich it was necessary for men 
 to know in this fallen state, in order to their re- 
 covery and final happiness, which they could not 
 possibly have discovered by the most accurate and 
 intense use of their natural faculties ; God was 
 pleased by his Holy Spirit, in a manner which we 
 cannot particularly explain, to reveal them to the 
 apostles ; and after having furnished them with 
 sufficient credentials, to prove, to all impartial in- 
 quirers, that the extraordinary doctrines (hey taught, 
 were not the reveries of a heated imagination, but 
 indeed instructions from heaven, he directed these 
 apostles, by an extraordinary influence on their 
 minds, to record the history of such facts, and to 
 write such instructions to the churches with whom 
 they were immediately concerned, as should hap- 
 pily contain an exact, unaffected, and full repre- 
 sentation of the genuine Christian doctrine, as well 
 
 * In this view, all our knowledge of every kind may be called a 
 revelatioTi fnmi God, and be ascribiO, as it is by Kliliii, to the inspira- 
 tion of the Aimigbty. (Job xxxii. 8.) Rnl Ibc words revelatitm and 
 inspiration arc so generally used in a nmcb stricter sense, and with 
 rcferen<c to a miracnlons divine inspiration to communicate know- 
 ledge, not attainable or to be expected in a natural way, that I think it 
 fittest commonly tu coafine these words to that more special and ele- 
 vated »igDification. 
 
1 IGl 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 ns of the manner of its being introduced into Die 
 world, and established in it. This grand desiji^n is 
 so happily executed, that I doubt not but every 
 person of common cajiacity mif;ht, on reading the 
 New Testament, understand, by the mere use of his 
 natural faculties, what the institutions of Christ 
 are ; as well as he min ht understand those of Solon or 
 Lycurg;us, by reading the writings of Xenophon, 
 Plutarch, or any otiier ancient historian. 
 
 ]}ut 1 further apprehend, that as the gospel was 
 a scheme, in which the divine glory and the salva- 
 tion of men were so intimately concerned, the 
 Spirit of God, which had in a more imperfect de- 
 gree operated on men's minds under tiie Mosaic 
 dispensation, to assist their understandings in ap- 
 prehending the sense of the sacred oracles, and 
 to aflect their hearts in conformity to their prac- 
 tical design, did, and does, in a yet more abun- 
 dant manner, interest himself in the jireservation 
 and efficacy of tliis nobler institution, in the tirst 
 establishment of which he had so illustrious a 
 part. 
 
 There is reason to think, tliat in the earliest age 
 his interposition, even in those who were not the 
 original depositaries of this revelation, might be 
 more sensible and remarkable than now. It seems 
 very congruous to the nature and circumstances of 
 things, so far as we can judge of them, (for I take 
 not upon me absolutely to assert it,) that among the 
 other miraculous gifts bestowed by the apostles on 
 the first ministers, whom they settled in new formed 
 churches, some of them might immediately relate 
 to the understanding and memory of the persons so 
 ordained ; in consequence of which they should, 
 for the benefit of the flocks respectively committed 
 to their care, more readily apprehend, and more 
 exactly retain, what the apostles taught them, than 
 in the mere strength of their natural faculties they 
 could have done. 
 
 Yet, as the Spirit was to abide with the church 
 always, and all true Christians are, agreeably to 
 that promise, represented as born of the Spirit, as 
 led by it, and, by virtue of its operations, as one 
 with Christ, it seems to me apparent, that to confine 
 his operations to the miraculous gifts and powers of 
 those early ages, is in a great measure to subvert 
 Christianity, or at least to rob it of its greatest 
 glory, and its professors of their noblest support 
 and encouragement. But, if we grant his con- 
 tinued influence on the minds of Christians in any 
 degree, as we cannot suppose it to be a blind and 
 irrational impulse, urging us to what we see no 
 just reason to pursue, it is very analogous to the 
 reason of things to suppose, that he operates upon 
 our understandings, as well as on the other faculties 
 of the soul. 
 
 We readily allow, that the manner of these ope- 
 rations cannot be clearly and fully expressed, as 
 
 neither can we explain that of sensation or memory. 
 But this ignorance of the particular manner docs 
 not, as one would imagine some apprehended, leave 
 men at liberty to assert, at random, whatever they 
 please about it. We may reasonably conclude, 
 that it is not the stated olhce of the Divine Spirit 
 to reveal new doctrines, which the Scripture does 
 not teach ; for if it were. Cod would undoubtedly, 
 as when he formerly added to prior revelations 
 given to his church, furnish the persons to whom 
 such discoveries were made, with proper credentials 
 to authorize their report : and if this cannot be 
 proved, it ought not to be asserted. Nor can we 
 imagine it his office to reveal by an immediate sug- 
 gestion, the doctrines already delivered in Scripture, 
 to those who may have daily opportunities of learn- 
 ing them from thence. My First Letter proved, that 
 there is in the nature of things no necessity for this, 
 since the truth of the revelation may to such be 
 known without it ; and to say, that where that truth 
 in general is known, there is a necessity of such a 
 revelation of particular doctrines, in order to their 
 being understood, is making a sad compliment to 
 the written word of God, and is indeed making it 
 quite an insignificant and useless thing. If any 
 such facts can be produced, let the evidence of them 
 be laid before the world, and all due regard shall 
 be paid to them ; but in theory it seems improbable, 
 because so plainly unnecessary, that God should do 
 that in a miraculous, which he has so amply pro- 
 vided for in an ordinary, way. Of this at least I 
 may be very confident, that he hath never given any 
 encouragement, either in the Old Testament, or in 
 the New, which should lead men to expect and 
 hope, that he should thus come, and whisper in 
 their ear, by immediate inspiration, the truths and 
 doctrines which he speaks aloud in his word, and 
 which they will neither read nor hear there. I 
 think a man might as well expect, that if, when 
 entering on a course of study, he were to put out 
 his own eyes, God should, by miracle, give him the 
 complete and orderly idea of all the characters of 
 books, which he might otherwise have read.* 
 
 Far be it from me in the mean time to deny, that 
 God may, by an extraordinary agency, render men's 
 faculties more capable of apprehension, where 
 divine things are concerned, than they might other- 
 wise be. He may, no doubt, do it : he may also 
 awaken a dormant idea, which lay neglected in the 
 memory, with unusual energy ; he may secretly 
 attract the more attentive regard of the mind to it ; 
 and give a man both an inclination and an ability 
 
 * I must entreat the reader to observe, that I (In, in the following 
 
 KaraKrapli, speak chiefly of such iiifliieiiees of the S|)irit, as I a|iprc. 
 end, in some degree, common to nil real and sincere Cliristiaits; allow, 
 ins tiiere are cases of a very neenliar and distingiiisliin;; nature, in 
 which God goes out of his usual methods, Ijolli of providence and grace, 
 to reclaim, renew, and enlighten some very great sinners, in a manner 
 wliich no man living lias any warrant to expect. See my Sermons on 
 Regeneration, Serm. VIII. 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, Sec. 
 
 1165 
 
 of tracing its various relations, with an unusual 
 attention, so that a lustre before quite unknown 
 shall be (as it were) poured upon it; while in the 
 mean time prejudices, which rendered the mind 
 indisposed for the search, or admission and ac- 
 knowledgment, of truth, may be suspended, and 
 even by imperceptible degrees dissipated. In all 
 these particulars, there may be a real operation of 
 the Spirit of God upon men's minds, under which 
 they may not themselves be conscious of any thing 
 at all extraordinary, though it be indeed so. You 
 well know. Sir, that in the natural world, the divine 
 agency accomplishes all by second causes, and yet 
 in such a manner, that hiding itself (as it were) 
 behind them, it is seldom taken notice of : accord- 
 ing to that fine expression of Mr. Thomson, 
 
 Alone HE works in all, yet HE alone 
 Seems not to work. 
 
 As Christians, we must believe that angels are 
 employed for our preservation from day to day ; yet 
 I suppose we generally pass through life, without 
 being able to fix on any one circumstance concern- 
 ing which we can assuredly say, " This was the 
 effect of angelic interposition." And thus may 
 there be a real operation of the Holy Spirit upon 
 the mind, to render it more susceptible, or more 
 tenacious, of divine knowledge ; while all seems to 
 be done by the regular exercise of the human 
 faculties, in concurrence with which God works. 
 And in consequence of this, a divine truth so learnt, 
 may not, and will not, be considered, as an imme- 
 diate revelation from God, nor be assented to as on 
 the credit of this operation ; but as on the evidence 
 of reason or Scripture, which the mind under this 
 guidance is enabled to discern. 
 
 And on tliis head I desire it may be remembered, 
 (for it is too evident to be disputed,) that our obli- 
 I gation to attend to any particular notice which 
 God has given us, either of truth or duty, does not 
 depend on its being a notice given us in this or 
 that distinguishing way, whether natural or super- 
 natural ; but upon that which is common to all 
 kind of notices from God as such. Nor does our 
 obligation to follow any good inclination, which 
 arises in our mind, depend upon its being naturally 
 or supernaturally produced, but simply, or at least 
 chiefly, upon the evidence we have of its being 
 good. Nay, I will venture to say, (on this founda- 
 tion,) that it seems to me that extraordinary divine 
 influences, imparted in this imperceptible way, arc 
 much more suitable to the wisdom and goodness of 
 the adorable Being from whom liiey come; as they 
 much better agree w i(h a state of trial, and with the 
 general scheme of conducting us by faith rather 
 than sight: as it likewise docs, that angels and 
 devils should be invisible to human eyes. 
 
 On the whole, therefore, comparing one part of 
 
 this account with the other, when our minds have 
 been deeply impressed with divine truths ; when 
 we have been awakened diligently to attend to 
 them, studying the Scripture, not merely as matter 
 of curiosity, but with a serious desire of learning 
 how the favour of God is to be ol)tained ; when we 
 have felt our hearts strongly impressed with good 
 affections; when we have been animated by an 
 inward vigour, much better felt than described, 
 to vanquish strong temptations, and with pa- 
 tience and resolution to discharge our duty in 
 the midst of difficulty and discouragement ; 1 think, 
 the whole tenor of Scripture directs us to ascribe 
 this, not only to the goodness of Providence, 
 in making us rational creatures, and making us 
 acquainted with the excellent revelation of truth 
 and duty contained in Scripture; but also to the 
 secret and gracious influences of the Holy Spirit 
 on our hearts, in concurrence with those other 
 advantages. And it seems to me quite trifling, to 
 amuse ourselves with nice speculations, where 
 nature ends, and where grace begins, or what spe- 
 cific difference there is between the knowledge we 
 obtain from each, while their operation is united. 
 Should a number of mechanics, to whom their 
 master has allowed two candles for their work, 
 instead of pursuing their business, set themselves 
 curiously to observe tiie difl'erencc between their 
 size and materials; (if such difl'erence there were;) 
 and in consequence of those observations to dis- 
 pute, whether in the compound light of both they 
 could distinguish the rays of each, by any peculiar 
 purity and lustre apprehended in the one, rather 
 than the other; we should certainly think them 
 very idly employed, and their master would give 
 them very little tliaiiks for so ill-judged a curiosity. 
 On tiie like principle, I freely acknowledge, it has 
 often grieved me to the heart to observe, how many 
 volumes of polciiiical divinity have been written on 
 questions, which neither need nor admit deter- 
 mination on this topic, as well as others. 
 
 But it is much for the honour of Scripture, that it 
 meddles not with these niceties. It lays down the 
 general principles I have mentiont d ; it exhorts men 
 to take all pro;'er measures, to obtain the know- 
 ledge of divine things, by reading, by meditation, 
 i. c. undoubtedly by the exercise of their rational 
 faculties, which it expresses by being men in un- 
 derstanding : and it further directs, that all these 
 pursuits should be undertaken, and carried on, in 
 an I'.umbic dependence on God, who giveth wisdom, 
 and out of w liosc mouth cometh knowledge and 
 understanding. He begins the good work in us, he 
 carries it on until tiie day of the Lord, and worketli 
 in us both to will and to do. Under these influences, 
 we ascribe unto God the glory of every intellectual, 
 moral, and spiritual attainment, humbling ourselves 
 before him, that these attainments have been no 
 
 I 
 
1 Wii 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 grctitcr ; which tlicy undoubtedly might have been 
 in consequence of a more diligent use of the means 
 and opportunities wliieh he has aflbrded, and to the 
 faithful improvement of which he has given, and 
 limited, his promises of further supernatural assist- 
 ances ; though I am very far from saying, they are 
 imparted only to sucli as might on these promises 
 have pleaded a claim to them. 
 
 This, Sir, I really take to be the Scripture doc- 
 trine of divine influence, and particularly of the 
 Spirit's ollice in illuminating the mind ; but you 
 easily saw that this, instead of establishing what you 
 teach of throwing aside the exercise of reason in 
 religion, would utterly have overthrown it, and 
 would (as I observed above) have made the dili- 
 gent use of that reason, in concurrence with humble 
 prayer, and the use of proper means of information, 
 the only way in which we could warrantably have 
 expected such enlightening and sanctifying influ- 
 ences. You therefore have thought fit to give 
 another representation of the matter, directly con- 
 trary to what I have stated above ; and you have 
 attempted to prove it by many remarkable passages 
 of the New Testament. 
 
 Now I really apprehend, and own, whatever you 
 might intend by this argumentation, that if these 
 Scriptures are rightly applied, and will establish 
 the purpose for which you bring them, Christianity 
 is overthrown ; and all I have been saying, in this 
 part of my Letter, must prejudice, rather than sup- 
 port it ; since if your representations are just, it 
 teaches a doctrine, not only absurd in theory, and 
 false in fact, but also self-contradictorj' ; and con- 
 trives to render entirely vain and insignificant all 
 those grand preparations, which it describes as 
 made for teaching the gospel in a natural way, 
 and the prudent use of which it so warmly incul- 
 cates, in a multitude of other passages. And 
 therefore. 
 
 Thirdly, I shall consider in this view what you 
 allege from Scripture upon this head ; which I 
 shall handle as an objection, drawn from the sup- 
 posed absurd and contradictory representation of 
 the doctrine of the Spirit's influence in certain pas- 
 sages of it ; and show, that those texts on which 
 you build your hypothesis, will none of them, if 
 fairly interpreted, support it, and several of them 
 are, in themselves, sufficient to subvert and over- 
 throw it. 
 
 Now here. Sir, it seems proper to observe to the 
 reader, that you have no where marshalled your 
 arguments on this head ; perhaps conscious, that 
 they would make but an indifferent figure, when 
 professedly brought together. You choose rather to 
 boast, that they are many and great, than particu- 
 larly to show us what thej' are : and therefore, after 
 slightly mentioning a few texts in your 5Gth page, 
 which I shall presently examine, you gallantly say. 
 
 " It were endless to recount all the innumerable 
 passages, throughout the whole Scripture, that 
 concur in ascertaining this :" and then you inter- 
 mingle the mention of several other texts, with the 
 course of your declamation on this subject; not 
 canvassing the sense or connexion of them, nor 
 seeming to attend to any thing more than the sound: 
 for which in the 10;jtli page you make a general, 
 and I think a remarkable, apology : "That in the 
 haste of your zeal you may have laid yourself open 
 unguardedly enough, if the thing were to be ex- 
 amined according to the rules of strict criticism ; 
 but that it is enough for your design, if the main 
 drift and scope of your argument may be allowed 
 to be, upon the whole, maintained only with some 
 tolerable degree of propriety, so as to carry just the 
 face of something plausible and consistent." 
 
 Your young friend, in his reply, has touched 
 upon this extraordinary passage of yours, in so 
 handsome a manner, as to render it less necessary 
 for me to insist upon it. I am very ready to make 
 you all the acknowledgments, which such a frank 
 confession of your uncertainty, on a point which 
 }ou have so often confidently asserted, can be sup- 
 posed to merit. But really. Sir, I cannot agree 
 with you, " that a critical punctuality is not at all 
 material to the purpose in hand." If so desperate 
 a charge be advanced against the gospel, as that it 
 teaches the monstrous doctrine, which I have from 
 your own Letter represented above, I am sure it 
 ought to be proved in the most convincing manner, 
 with such a critical punctuality as shall make it 
 apparent, not only that some passages in it may 
 possibly admit of such a sense, but that those on 
 which you lay the main stress of your argument, 
 cannot with any tolerable propriety bear any other. 
 And if, when both the interpretations were pro- 
 posed, there were some degree of probability in 
 favour of yours, which I am persuaded will never 
 in any one instance be the case ; it would remain 
 further to be examined, whether that preponderancy 
 of probability were suflicient to counterbalance all 
 the arguments in favour of Christianity, which 
 must otherwise be given up as absurd. But this 
 last consideration, which I mention chiefly on ac- 
 count of its great weight iii every objection against 
 the gospel, and because it seems to be so often for- 
 got, need not to be insisted upon here ; as I believe 
 the reader w ill easily perceive, when the particulars 
 are examined. 
 
 I have therefore given myself the trouble of col- 
 ,lccting your proofs, as carefully as I can ; and when 
 I have placed them in what I apprehend their most 
 natural order, I shall consider them particularly: 
 and so much the rather, as several of the texts 
 must be acknowledged to have some difficulty at- 
 tending them, and I apprehend the examination of 
 them may be agreeable and nseful to many of my 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 11G7 
 
 readers ; though it be so unnecessary with regard 
 to yourself, who it seems meant nothing more, than 
 to amuse the world with what might carry just the 
 face of something plausible ; a trial of skill, which 
 on so weighty a subject might well have been 
 spared, and which may perhaps on the sequel be 
 found, what attempts on Scripture generally are, 
 rolling a stone which may return upon the mover, 
 and may prove far more burthensome than was at 
 first imagined. 
 
 Now here, that we may proceed in something of 
 method, I will range the texts you have been 
 pleased to produce, (either as containing your doc- 
 trine, or as referring to it,) in such an order, as I 
 imagine may give the best varnish to the conclusion 
 you would infer from them ; at the same time men- 
 tioning the page in which you cite them, that the 
 reader may be fully satisfied, they are such as you 
 have thought fit to mention, how needless and how 
 unfortunate soever to your cause the mention of 
 some of them may appear. 
 
 In diilerent places therefore you think proper to 
 remind us, that our Lord himself taught, that no 
 man could come unto him, unless it were given him 
 by the Father; (p. 57.) and promiseth the Spirit, 
 who was to testify of him, and to lead his followers 
 into all truth : (ibid.) that accordingly, the apostles 
 declare, that faith is the gift of God ; (ibid.) and 
 that he who believeth, hath the witness in himself, 
 (p. 56.) which is so necessary in order to faith, that 
 no man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the 
 Holy Ghost; (ibid.) for the natural man receiveth 
 not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are 
 foolishness unto him, neither can he know them, 
 because they are spiritually discerned, (p. 103.) 
 even by that spiritual man, who judges all things, 
 while he himself is judged of none : to him is made 
 known that internal word, which is in his mouth, 
 and in his heart, so that he need not say. Who shall 
 ascend into heaven, or who shall descend into the 
 deep? (P. 79, 80.) In reference to this therefore, he 
 who believeth not, makes God a liar. (P. 54.) With- 
 out granting this, you tell us, we can never account 
 for the apostle's pronouncing an anathema on him- 
 self, or an angel from heaven, who should preach a 
 contrary doctrine; (p. 11.) or for his exhorting 
 Christians to be all of one mind, and to think and 
 speak the same thing, which without such an infal- 
 lible universal teacher would be quite impossible. 
 (P. 6.5.) With reference also to this teaching we are 
 exhorted to become as little children, that we may 
 enter into the kingdom of God ; which you seem to 
 understand as a command to lay aside our reason 
 wherever religion is concerned : (p. 7.5.) in which 
 sense, it seems, every high thing, i. e. every argu- 
 ment, is to be captivated to the obedience of Christ. 
 (P. 84.) And finally, that if faith were built upon 
 any other foundation, it would be utterly absurd to 
 
 pray for its increase; (p. 10.) and that infant bap- 
 tism, here taken for granted to be a divine institu- 
 tion, would on any other scheme be unjustifiable 
 and unintelligible. (P. 69.) These, Sir, arc (so far 
 as I can find) the grand foundations, on which you 
 build the doctrine I am now opposing ; but how 
 precariously, I question not many will see from 
 reading the enumeration I have given in this con- 
 nexion, which is that I would have chosen for them, 
 if they had been in this view my own arguments. 
 Nevertheless, for the reasons given above, we will 
 discuss them a little more particularly. 
 
 That we may remember what we are about, I 
 must entreat my reader to recollect, that if the texts 
 above answer your purpose, they must prove an im- 
 mediate revelation of the whole system of Chris- 
 tianity, to every particular Christian, in such a 
 manner, as to make it unnecessary for him to in- 
 quire into any other evidence from reason or Scrip- 
 ture, to evince the truth of the gospel in general, 
 or of any branch of it which might be proposed to 
 his examination. 
 
 Having premised this, I hope to make it appear, 
 on the review, — that some of the texts in question 
 do not refer to any revelation of truth at all ; — that 
 others were peculiar to the apostles ; — and that no 
 one of them will answer your purpose ; because 
 there is none but what may be fairly interpreted, in 
 an important and useful sense, far short of what you 
 would give it. I think, every one of the texts will 
 fall under one or another of those three classes. 
 And here, as I am not at puzzling the cause, but at 
 stating the truth in a fair light, I shall at once allow 
 you every where, as much as I do in my conscience 
 think ought to be allowed to each passage in ques- 
 tion ; though I am very well aware, (as you may 
 perhaps learn from some other hand,) that a great 
 many things might be said to render some things 
 dubious, which in the course of the argument I am 
 ready to grant you. 
 
 When our Lord tells us, No man can come unto 
 him, except it be given him of the Father ; and the 
 apostle testifies, that faith is the gift of God ; it may 
 indeed imply, that any one, who is brought cordially 
 to believe the gospel, and to apply to Christ for sal- 
 vation, according to the scheme laid down in it, has 
 reason to ascribe it, not only to the divine goodness 
 in granting him a revelation of the great truths of 
 our religion, but also to the secret influence of divine 
 grace upon his heart ; so fixing his attention to tliose 
 Irntlis, and affecting his soul with them, as eflectu- 
 ally to produce that cordial consent to the terms of 
 the Ciiristian covenant, which is often in Scripture 
 expressed by " believing," or by " coming to 
 Christ." And how many thousands will gladly ac- 
 knowledge the reality of such an influence on their 
 minds, who pretend to no immediate revelation, and 
 who embrace the gospel because they sec such 
 
1168 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 rational evidence of it, ns (licy apprehend sufficient 
 to convince every impartial intiuirer ; an evidence 
 within the reach of all who live in a Christian 
 country ; nay, actually attained by many, who, 
 clearly as their understandings are convinced, feel 
 notliin"; of the etlicacy of these truths on tlieir 
 liearts ! 
 
 Afiain, Our Lord pronounces, that the Spirit 
 shall testify of him. lint you will please to recol- 
 lect, that this promise was immediately addressed 
 to the apostles ; and that it would have had an 
 important meaning, if it had only referred to those 
 miraculous works, by which the Spirit confirmed 
 that glorious and convincing testimony, which the 
 apostles bore to the trutii of the gospel. — A promise 
 to them, to guide them into all truth, might also be 
 peculiar to the extraordinary office which they sus- 
 tained, in order to the execution of wliich it was 
 necessary, that these tilings should be taught them 
 by an immediate and personal revelation, which 
 thousands more might receive without any such 
 revelation, from their lips or their writings. So 
 that, if such an immediate revelation to every 
 Christian in all ages, cannot be proved from some 
 other argument, it is certain that the mention of 
 this scripture will prove nothing to the purpose, 
 and St. Paul's question, " Are all apostles ?" will 
 be a sufficient reply to the allegation of it on this 
 occasion. 
 
 It seems indeed much rtore to your purpose that 
 the apostle John, when writing to a community of 
 Christians, speaks in language bearing some re- 
 semblance to this of our Lord, to him and his bre- 
 thren in that illustrious office, particularly where it 
 is snid, that he who believes hath the witness in 
 himself; and that they had an unction from the 
 Holy One, and knew all things. Yet will neither 
 of these expiessions, which are some of the strongest 
 used in the whole New Testament with reference 
 to this point, by any means answer the purpose for 
 which you produce them. 
 
 The believer may surely be said to have the 
 witness within himself, as his personal experience 
 of the pow er of the gospel on his own heart alToTds 
 him a noble internal evidence of its truth. This is 
 the interpretation, which Dr. Watts has at large 
 given of this text, in his excellent Sermons upon 
 it; and what I have said in my First Letter may, I 
 hope, do something towards setting it in its just 
 light. And though I acknow ledge, that it is a very 
 possible case, that some Christians may be favoured 
 by God with uncommon operations on their souls, 
 in consequence of which the evidence of their own 
 sincere piety may, in an extraordinary manner, be 
 cleared up, and their dejection and distress of spirit 
 removed; yet I apprehend, thut given above is the 
 only sense in which it can be vniversally asserted 
 concerning every believer, that he lias such a wit- 
 
 ness within himself: as if it had been said. The 
 true Christian, in whatever state or circumstance, 
 has a work within, which, were it to be attentively 
 surveyed in its proper light, would appear a glorious 
 evidence of the divine authority of the gospel, by 
 means of which it was to be produced. — And as 
 this is the work of the Spirit of God upon the Chris- 
 tian's heart, it is an unction from the Holy One, in 
 consequence of which he knows all things : not 
 absolutely, so as to be omniscient, which I think 
 you do not yourself pretend to be the sense of the 
 phrase ; but he knows, (according to that lax sense 
 in which the word all is frequently used,) whatever 
 is absolutely necessary for him to know, in order to 
 his salvation and happiness, which is to him " all 
 in all." He knows many great and glorious things, 
 of which all who reject Christianity remain igno- 
 rant, atul which those, who, though they profess it, 
 yet do not cordially believe it, know but in a very 
 lifeless and unaffecting manner, so that it hardly 
 deserves to be called knowledge. In consequence 
 of this, the happy persons spoken of above need 
 not that any should teach them,* i. e. they need 
 not to be taught over again those great lessons, 
 which to the rest of the world are the most neces- 
 sary of all others, and such as the apostle had been 
 laying down above, that Jesus is the Christ, and 
 that God hath promised us eternal life in him. Yet 
 it was necessary, in the ordinary method of divine 
 proceeding, that, previous to this anointing, they 
 should be taught these things by human methods of 
 instruction, as St. Paul argues ; " How .shall they 
 believe in him, of whom they have not heard ? and 
 how shall they hear without a preacher?" Nay, it 
 is plain from other passages in this epistle, that the 
 apostle John thought other lessons might be useful 
 to them, though tliis unction of the Spirit had been 
 poured out upon them, and had effectual ly taught 
 them this. 
 
 I now come to that text of thcapostle Paul, which 
 you mention immediately after laying down the 
 proposition of your Third Part, as if it v ere in so 
 many words a demonstration of your doctrine, and 
 call it " one plain word, by which it is fully set 
 forth," that no man can say, Jesus is the Lord, but 
 by the Holy Ghost. f But here, Sir, I suppose you 
 will not maintain, that this text means to assert, 
 that it is impossible for any man, without some 
 special assistance of the Holy Ghost, to utter these 
 words, Jesus is the Messiah ; or even that it is im- 
 possible, without an immediate revelation of the 
 truth of Christianity, to make a hypocritical pro- 
 fession of the Christian faith. Common sense 
 therefore, and common justice, will require, that 
 they be taken in a qualified interpretation of them. 
 And I think, the design and meaning of them may 
 best be fixed by consulting the context: a task, 
 
 * I Jolin ii. 27. + I Cor. xii. 3. 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 11G9 
 
 ■ft liich in tliis, and every other place, seems too great 
 a drudgery for such a sprightly and free genius as 
 yours ; and yet. Sir, quite necessary to every man, 
 that thinks it worth his care not to speak at all ad- 
 venturous when he quotes Scripture, and especially 
 (as one would imagine) important, where a text is 
 introduced with such a grand parade. 
 
 Tlie apostle, in the chapter referred to, is evidently 
 discoursing on the subject of spiritual gifts, or some 
 extraordinary operations of the Holy Ghost in the 
 primitive church, concerning which the state of 
 things at Corinth made it necessary that he should 
 give some directions. Now he lays down this as a 
 preliminary, that there was no reason to apprehend, 
 that any but Christians had any room to pretend 
 they were under such operations ; and on the other 
 liand, that every true Christian, whether he were or 
 were not distinguished by his miraculous gifts, had 
 however felt the power and operation of the Spirit 
 of God on his heart. And this I take to be the 
 general sense of the 3d verse, on which you lay so 
 great a stress : " No man, to be sure, speaking by 
 the Spirit of God, calleth Jesus accursed. The 
 Jews, who pronounce their solemn aaathemas upon 
 Christ, and blaspheme his name," (to which this 
 phrase seems clearly to refer,) " though they may 
 pretend to the Spirit of God, so often spoken of in 
 their Scriptures, make a vain and impious pretence 
 to it. And no man can call Jesus Lord, i. e. can 
 really and cordially acknowledge his authority, but 
 by virtue of the ope.ation of the Holy Ghost upon 
 his heart. So that some reverence is due in this 
 respect to every Christian, even though his gifts 
 should not be peculiarly bright ; nay, though " 
 (which for any thing I can find might often have 
 been the case) " he should have received none of 
 those miraculous gifts at all, about which you 
 Corinthians so eagerly contend." In this easy view 
 of the passage, the remark seems exceeding perti- 
 nent. But what imaginable connexion is there, 
 between a sanctifying influence on the heart, pro- 
 ductive of real piety, and a full revelation of a 
 perfect creed at once, or of any single article before 
 unknown, " with a light little different from in- 
 tuition itself, and which renders the assistance of 
 reason and Scripture quite superfluous." The man- 
 ner in which the apostle addresses to the real 
 Christians at Corinth, abundantly demonstrates, 
 how far he was from supposing that to be the case, 
 and how far he would have been from allowing such 
 an inference from any principle laid down by him, 
 here, or elsewhere. 
 
 As little to your purpose will you find that other 
 boasted passage of St. Paul in his Epistle to the 
 Romans, which you (|uote in your 7.0th page, as if 
 it were the very design of the apostle to establish 
 your whole notion and doctrine in it. Accordingly 
 you say, " But the passage that most fully, and 
 4 F 
 
 beyond all possibility of misconception, describes 
 to us the true nature of faith, in manifest opposition 
 to that mistaken notion of a rational one, which 
 some had it seems erroneously entertained, is in the 
 tenth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, where 
 the whole question is discussed at large, and thus 
 precisely determined." And then you quote the 
 words themselves, which are these : " The righte- 
 ousness which is by faith is on this wise, Say not 
 in thine heart. Who shall ascend into heaven ?— or 
 who shall descend into the deep ! — The word is nigh 
 thee, even in thy mouth, and in thine heart," &c.* 
 
 Now, Sir, you must pardon me, if I express my 
 surprise, that you should thus pompously quote a 
 passage, in which the clearness of the Scripture 
 revelation is asserted, to prove that it is attended 
 with such obscurity, that it is not to be expected, 
 that any man should understand it, otherwise than 
 in consequence of an immediate revelation, i. e. by 
 miracle. I readily acknowledge, that the passage 
 is something difficult ; but it seems to me so far from 
 clearly expressing your doctrine, that I do not see 
 how it can bear to be interpreted so, as in any 
 measure to give it the least countenance. 
 
 You well know. Sir, that these words are an 
 allusion to, and a quotation from, the Old Testa- 
 ment ;t where Moses, in his elo<iuent manner, con- 
 gratulates the people of Israel on their being 
 favoured with so clear and so full a discovery of the 
 will of God in his written law ; in consequence of 
 which there was no need for them to say. Who shall 
 go up for us to heaven ! — or, who shall go over the 
 sea for us ? — The word is very nigh thee, says that 
 illustrious legislator, even in thy mouth, and in 
 thine heart, that thou mayest do it: it is ca.sily 
 understood, easily remembered, and on the whole, 
 admirably fitted to impress and affect the mind. In 
 allusion to this, the apostle, with great beauty and 
 propriety, tells the Christians to whom he wrote, 
 that the revelation of the gospel by Christ was as 
 plain and evident, as that of the law by Moses : 
 The righteousness which is of faith (i. e. the gospel, 
 which tcacheth us the way of ju.stification by faith) 
 speaketli on this wise, Say not in thine heart. Who 
 shall ascend into heaven? (that is, to bring Christ 
 down from above ;) or who shall descend into the 
 deep? (that is, to bring up Christ again from the 
 dead:) as if he should have said, "Had Christ 
 never descended from heaven, or had he never risen 
 again from the depths of the earth in which he was 
 buried, wc might indeed have been at a loss to know 
 the way of salvation, and might have been left, like 
 the rest of the world, in a thousand doubts and un- 
 certainties ; but now, since Christ has descended 
 from heaven to bring the gospel, and has risen from 
 the dead to confirm it, we well know the way : and 
 blessed be God, it is very easy and practicable, 
 
 * Rom. X. 6, et seq. + Dciit. xxx. 12—14. 
 
1 170 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 open to every one that sliall receive the gospel, an(! 
 very nigh him, in more senses tlian one, in tlie 
 mouth, antl in tlie licart. Let but the mouth, and 
 the heart, do their respective parts, the one cor- 
 dially believing in Christ, and the other courage- 
 ously confessing him, in such a manner as to ap- 
 prove that inward sincerity ; and salvation may be 
 obtained, even though the law liath been broken, 
 that awful law, wliicli, intelligible as it was, did 
 still rigorously insist npon it, that the man should 
 exactly do its precepts, who would hope to live by 
 them."* This, Sir, is the assertion and illustration 
 of the apostle ; and how widely this differs from the 
 view in which you have introduced it, I am per- 
 suaded that yon and my other readers will easily 
 see. They will, no doubt, think the turn you have 
 given it an instance of admirable invention and 
 dexterous address; and as you seem not solicitous 
 that it should be thought solid, I hope all parties 
 will be agreed. 
 
 Another of your texts, which I would by no 
 means leave uncanvassed, and which, at first ap- 
 pearance, seems much more favourable to your 
 cause than the former, though not so much gloried 
 in, is that of St. Paul in his first Epistle to the Co- 
 rinthians : The natural man receiveth not the 
 things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness 
 unto him ; neither can he know them, because they 
 are spiritually discerned, Sccf From hence you 
 would infer that it is only by an immediate inspira- 
 tion from the Spirit, that divine truths can be known, 
 and consequently that reasoning must be quite 
 superfluous in such a pursuit. I shall not here 
 reply, as some have done, that ^pvxiKog signifies a 
 man who proceeds in his religious inquiries merely 
 on principles of natural reason ; while TrveviiariKog 
 signifies one who admits of a divine revelation, and 
 allows arguments deduced from its authority. If 
 this were to be granted as the sense of these two 
 words, the meaning of the text would be, that reve- 
 lation teaches somethings which reason could never 
 have discovered. This, I think, is the sense Dr. 
 Clagget gives of the passage, in his laboured expli- 
 cation of it ; but I cannot acquiesce in it, because it 
 will by no means follow from hence, that the natural 
 man cannot receive them, and they must be fool- 
 ishness to him : on the contrary, were a man to 
 reason well, he might in many instances discover 
 harmony, beauty, and wisdom, in those doctrines, 
 schemes, and facts, which are known only by reve- 
 lation. I shall therefore grant, that by the natural 
 man we arc to understand, one who is sunk in the 
 animal life ;t one, who under the influence of those 
 false maxims, which the corruption of mankind has 
 
 * Roni.x. 5. + I Cor. ii. 11, 15. 
 
 t This, I lliiuk, tlie etymology of the "word ^!/vx*Kof may well inti- 
 mate : and the use of it elsewhere may warrant the explication. Com- 
 pare 1 Cor. x». 44, 46. Jam. iii. 15. and Jude, ver. 19. in the two last of 
 which passages it is rendered senaual. 
 
 introduced into the world, is rendered carnal, and 
 sensual, and consequently attached to views of 
 secular interest, or vain glory. Such persons are 
 indeed unwilling to admit of such truths as the gos- 
 pel teaches, and therefore choose rather to object 
 against its evidence, than to submit to its instruc- 
 tions. This the apostle might well assert; and as 
 the counterpart of the thought might lead his 
 readers to rcllect, that they who feel these preju- 
 dices conquered in their minds, and are brought to 
 discern the beauty and glory of those truths which 
 the gospel teaches, have reason to ascribe it to the 
 influence of the divine Spirit on their hearts ; or in 
 other words, to own, that these truths (which were 
 at first revealed to the apostles by the Spirit of God, 
 and therefore are called his things) are spiritually 
 discerned. In consequence of which the happy 
 man, almost like one restored to sight among the 
 blind, avaKpivii iravTa, discerns all the objects with 
 which he is surrounded, while he himself utt' aJtvoj 
 avuKfiivtTai is discerned by none of them ; but per- 
 haps is proudly censured, by these prejudiced and 
 bigoted creatures, as a mere visionary, for these 
 judgments which are most rationally formed, on 
 principles which every impartial inquirer would 
 understand. If this easy interpretation of the words 
 be admitted, they will appear quite foreign to your 
 purpose, and applicable to multitudes to whom no 
 single truth of Christianity was taught by miracle, 
 but who by divine grace was inclined to receive 
 that gospel, which the apostle tells us, in the pre- 
 ceding verse, he and his brethren taught, comparing 
 spiritual things with spiritual : a care, which, 
 whether it refers to the manner of their investiga- 
 tion, or to that of communicating the sacred know- 
 ledge, would be quite unnecessary on your hypo- 
 thesis. So unlucky for your cause will criticism 
 and connexion be found, in this instance, as well 
 as the former. 
 
 That he, who disbelieves the gospel, maketh God 
 a liar, (i. e. rejects his testimony as unworthy of 
 credit,) will be true, if God has borne any testi- 
 mony to the gospel at all, which is, or might be, 
 known by such a rejecter of it ; and will be no less 
 the case, where the external testimony of miracles 
 is in question, than if the inward impression, which 
 you maintain, were to be granted. This text, there- 
 fore, by no means determining how the testimony is 
 borne, can be of no service to your cause.— Nor will 
 that cause find a surer refuge in those words of St. 
 Paul, in his Epistle to the Galatians ; Though we, 
 or an angel from heaven, preach a different gospel 
 to you, let him be accursed.§ This is only a strong 
 way of saying, that the gospel, which they had 
 already been taught, was so assuredly true, that 
 any one, who should presume to contradict it, far 
 from being worthy of any regard, would rather be 
 
 ) Cal. i. 8. 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1171 
 
 worthy of a curse ; and that it would be an arg;u- 
 ment of damnable apostasy, in an apostle, or even 
 an angel, to attempt to subvert it. Were this 
 passage to be taken in the most rigorous sense 
 that can be imagined, it would amount to no 
 more than this; that the evidence which they had 
 received of the truth of Christianity, was greater 
 than God would ever permit an angel to bring 
 against it, were it possible for one of those celestial 
 spirits to revolt, and appear with a contrary doc- 
 trine. And this is what we all believe, upon this 
 general principle, that God will never permit any 
 evil spirit, (and such any angel contradicting the 
 gospel would certainly be,) to work more and 
 greater miracles to overthrow Christianity, than 
 have already been wrought to confirm it. Now 
 this might have been true, even though all the 
 operations of the Spirit had ceased in the remoter 
 ages of the church, or though the illumination of 
 our minds by his immediate influence had been no 
 part of his office. 
 
 But you triumph greatly in this thought, that 
 without such a plenary revelation of the truth, to 
 every particular person, by the immediate inspira- 
 tion of the Holy Ghost, it would be impossible that 
 all men should be of one mind ; which nevertheless 
 the apostle prays that Christians might be, and ex- 
 horts them to labour after. But I wonder, Sir, you 
 should not see, that when he offers this petition for 
 them, or addresses them with such an exhortation, 
 he plainly supposes, they were not at present under 
 such a uniting guidance, in consequence of which 
 (as you express it) they were preserved from the 
 least possibility of mistake. So that, even on your 
 own principles, you must be obliged to admit of 
 some qualifying interpretation : and it so easily 
 presents itself, that I think hardly any writer but 
 yourself has missed it. To be perfectly joined to- 
 gether in the same mind, and the same sentiment, 
 (as I think it is most natural to translate ev rr) avnj 
 yviofirt ;*) to have the same mutual disposition or 
 affection, (ro avro (ppoveiv tv aWjjXoic. as it is else- 
 where expressed,! or ug nXXjjXBf, as in the parallel 
 passage, |) plainly signifies to cultivate harmony, 
 or unanimity, or to maintain a friendly disposition 
 towards each other, notwithstanding some diversity 
 in their taste, opinion, or customs. And that this 
 is the meaning of the expression is evident, from 
 what the apostle elsewhere says, both to the Corin- 
 lliians and to the Romans, to whom these exhort- 
 ations are addressed ; where he supposes there 
 would be a difference in opinion and practice among 
 them in some things, and yet urges them to think 
 favourably of each other, and to receive one an- 
 other, ^ as Christ had received them all, if sincere 
 Christians, whether Jews or Gentiles ; and how 
 
 • I Cor. i. 10. + Rom. xv. { Rom. xii. 16. 
 
 \ 2 Cor. xii. II. Rom. xv. 7. 
 
 4 F 2 
 
 different soever their apprehensions might be, as to 
 the lawfulness or unlawfulness, the expediency or 
 inexpediency, of some practices which were in 
 question among them. And thus does the apostle 
 explain himself in that parallel text, || where, when 
 he had so tenderly entreated them, by the consola- 
 tion of Christ, by the comfort of love, and by the 
 communion of the Spirit, that they should be like- 
 minded, \iva TO avTo (ppovtire, that ye may be unani- 
 mous,] he adds, having the same love, being of one 
 accord, rrjv avrrjv ayawrjv (xovrtg, avfi-^vxot, which 
 two phrases explain the former ; as if he should 
 have said, Let your souls be joined together in the 
 same love : and then he adds, to iv (ppovavrss, which 
 if it be not a mere repetition of the first clause, to 
 avTo (ppovt]Tf, be unanimous, may perhaps be render- 
 ed, attend to and prosecute (the to iv) the one thing, 
 that great concern of vital practical religion, the 
 service of God and the salvation of the soul, which 
 our divine Master has recommended to us as the 
 one thing needful. How well this interpretation 
 suits the Greek word, ippovtiv, used in all these 
 places, you. Sir, if at all conversant with Greek 
 writers, cannot but know. And if you are a stranger 
 to them, which I would not suppose, I am sorry you 
 have been misled by an English translation, to 
 fasten an absurdity upon the sacred writer ; as if 
 he was childish enough to imagine, that entreaties 
 could bring people to think alike in disputed 
 points ; and this without telling them (which on 
 your supposition must be the case) what that one 
 thing was, in which they were to think alike. 
 Whereas on our easy and obvious interpretation 
 there needed no such explication at all ; as the ex- 
 hortation referred to a charitable temper, recom- 
 mended in a variety of strong expressions, and not 
 to this or that particular sentiment. And, permit 
 me to say, though by way of digression. Would to 
 God these texts were rightly understood by Chris- 
 tians in general ; and that such a divine principle 
 of mutual love, in consequence of our union in 
 Christ, might prevail more, where we cannot in 
 your sense be of one mind, nor unite in one exter- 
 nal form, whether of worship or discipline ! I would 
 hope, the attacks made on common Christianity are 
 in some measure leading us to this. And I heartily 
 pray, that infinite wisdom may overrule that evil, 
 to the production of so great a good. 
 
 The only scriptures in the catalogue which I gave 
 above, which remain yet unhandled, are tliose 
 which relate to our becoming as little children, that 
 we may enter into the kingdom of God,1I and to the 
 captivating every thought to the obedience of 
 Christ.** The former of these passages stands more 
 immediately opposed to ambitious views of worldly 
 greatness, than to an overweening opinion of our 
 own understanding ; though I readily acknowledge, 
 
 II I'liil. ii. 1, 2. H Mat. xviii. 3. »• 2 Cor. x. 5. 
 
1 17-2 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 tiiat ;RC()i(lii)j;- lo llie i;enius of our Lord's Icacliing 
 in f!;encral, it may \\c\i be considered as a warninfr 
 against the latter, to whicli the text in Corinthians 
 docs no doubt relate. But what can you infer from 
 hence to support the peculiarities of your doctrine? 
 We readily {^rant you, tliat such texts remind us of 
 what indeed reason itself would teach, if impar- 
 tially consulted, that wlien we have discovered the 
 evidence of a divine revelation, which the natural 
 weakness of our minds nught engage us to wisii, 
 and to in(iuire after, we are teachably to submit to 
 its instructions. We are to be sensible, that our 
 own understandings, when compared with the Su- 
 preme Intelligence, are infinitely less than that of a 
 JittJo child, when compared with ours. We are 
 therefore humbly and quietly to sit down, as it 
 were, at the feet of the Divine Teacher ; and though 
 several plausible objections may arise in our minds, 
 and many things taught may be inconsistent with 
 our preconceived prejudices, and with what through 
 their influence we should have expected, we are to 
 suffer those prejudices to be overruled by so high 
 an authority, and to acquiesce in this, that the Lord 
 has said it : and this is as really our duty, w hen he 
 is speaking to us by his messengers, as itwastiicirs 
 when he was speaking immediately to them. So 
 that you can never infer from hence a personal, and 
 much less a complete and instantaneous, inspira- 
 tion, till you have proved, either that I can never 
 be assured that God speaks by another, or that if I 
 am, I may disregard it, and dispute against it. The 
 latter of which is so notoriously absurd, that I never 
 heard it seriously maintained ; and the former has 
 been a thousand times confuted by those who have 
 written in defence of Christianity, and so lately in 
 particular by those who have answered that unhap- 
 py creature who called himself the Moral Philoso- 
 pher, that I need say nothing of it here, especially 
 after what I have written in my former Letters. 
 
 But I cannot dismiss the head without reminding 
 you of one important scripture, which illustrates the 
 explication I have given of those last mentioned 
 with a beautiful variety of most proper expression. 
 I mean that in the First Epistle of Peter, where the 
 apostle exhorts Christians, that laying aside all 
 malignity, and debate, and hypocrisy, and envy, 
 and calumny, (so common among some who call 
 tlicmselves Christians, and so often exercised 
 against the most faithful and zealous ministers of 
 the gospel,) they should, like new-born babes, de- 
 sire (as we render it) the sincere milk of the word, 
 that they might grow thereby.* It is in the original 
 TO \oyiKov adoXov yoXa, the rational fraudless milk. 
 Which is as if he had said, " The instruction we 
 give to those of you who arc yet but little children 
 in Christianity, is sincere and unadulterated, as 
 milk that (lows immediately from the breast of the 
 
 ♦ 1 Pet. ii. I, 2. 
 
 mother into the motith of the infant ; and if you will 
 exercise your reason honestly and wisely, you may 
 easily see, how excellent and useful our doctrine 
 and precepts arc. Come then, with the gentleness 
 and simplicity of little children, and receive them ; 
 while we are ready, with all the tenderness of an 
 affectionate mother for her suckling, to impart them 
 to you ; to impart, not only the gospel of God, but, 
 if it were i)ossible, even our own souls also, because 
 you are dear to us."t 
 
 This is indeed, according to the wise and affec- 
 tionate expression of St. Paul, to be at once in 
 malice children, and in understanding men.j For 
 I can think of nothing so rational, as diligently to 
 examine the credentials of any thing offered us as a 
 message from God, and then humbly to submit to 
 it without cavilling and disputing, when wc are 
 satisfied that it wears the stamp of his authority. 
 Whereas to set at nought all the internal and exter- 
 nal evidence of Christianity so often represented, 
 insisting on it as the absolute condition of our be- 
 lieving, that if it be immediately revealed to us from 
 hea'ven by miraculous, perfect, and irresistible 
 inspiration, is so far from looking like this infant 
 simplicity, that it seems much more to favour of 
 that malignity and haughtiness of temper, which 
 such passages as these were intended to guard us 
 against. So unhappy have you generally been, 
 from first to last, in the choice of those scriptures 
 by which you would just add some face of probabi- 
 lity to a notion in itself so absurd, as that which 
 you have advanced concerning the illumination of 
 the Spirit. 
 
 There are several other scriptures, Sir, which, in 
 the course of your harangue, you have occasionally 
 touched upon ; as if you thought they afl'orded some 
 countenance to that notion : but the inference is so 
 precarious, that one would really imagine, you 
 mentioned them only with an intent to make your 
 pamphlet as rich as possible in such kind of bur- 
 lesque. I am sure you will acknowledge, that those 
 I have already canvassed are the strength of your 
 cause. However, for the vindication of the others 
 from that injury you have offered them, I shall 
 touch here (by way of digression) on two or three 
 passages of Scripture, which you, Sir, seem to have 
 brought in merely for the sake of exposing them to 
 contempt: a contempt, of which I think they will 
 appear by no means worthy, and consequently 
 which may fall where it was least intended. 
 
 In your(>6tli page you refer to what is said of the 
 Samaritans,^ and tell us, " It is recorded many be- 
 lieved in Christ readily for the saying of the woman." 
 And then you add, with great triumph, " a notable 
 foundation truly for confidence and conviction, and 
 perhaps martyrdom," &c. Now, Sir, it is hard to 
 imagine for what purpose this reflection could be 
 
 + I Thee. ii. 8. t 1 Cor. xiv. 20. i John iv. 39. 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, kc. 
 
 117.3 
 
 introduced, unless it were to give a specimen of 
 your good-will to the Scripture : it seems in eft'ect 
 telling the world, that you think St. John has as- 
 signed a very ridiculous reason for their faith, and 
 consequently was a despicable writer, in this in- 
 stance at least. I shall not insist on your quoting 
 the text with the addition of the word readily, wliich 
 is perhaps in Italics by mistake of the printer. But 
 I desire it maybe remembered, that we cannot infer 
 from this expression, that these Samaritans were 
 brought to a true and saving faith in Christ, so as 
 to continue in his word, and approve themselves 
 his disciples indeed ; which you artfully take for 
 granted, in your manner of putting the case. You 
 will find little reason confidently to infer this, from 
 its being said they believed in him, if you recollect, 
 that the evangelist, but a few paragraphs before, 
 (i. e. in the conclusion of his second chapter,) had 
 spoken of many who believed in Christ, to whom he 
 would not commit himself, because he knew what 
 was in man ; i. e. he knew their faith was not resolute 
 and sincere, nor they persons on whose steadiness 
 and fidelity he could depend. So it is very possible, 
 that some of these Samaritans, knowing the woman, 
 might from her report learn to conceive of Christ as 
 an extraordinary person, from s.hom therefore they 
 entertained some great expectation ; though they 
 might not have the resolution to follow him fully, 
 as you suppose they would of course do, even to 
 martyrdom. Indeed when Christ was come into 
 their city, and had discoursed among tliem, we 
 are told, that many more believed, because of his 
 own word ; and they declare, that now they believed, 
 not because of her saying, but because they had 
 heard him themselves ; which intimates, that they 
 looked on her testimony as a very small matter, 
 when compared with the satisfaction which their 
 personal converse with Christ had given them. 
 And if any of the persons, who at first declared 
 their regard to Christ on the testimony of the woman, 
 could afterwards be so regardless of him, as not to 
 give him the hearing, though he abode two days in 
 their city ; it was surely a very bad specimen of 
 that faith and zeal, which you think would have 
 engaged them to lay down their lives in his cause ; 
 as it would plainly show that they appreliendcd them- 
 selves very little concerned with him, how extra- 
 ordinary a person soever he might be. 
 
 Presently after you mention another text, as it 
 seems, much with the same pious design, namely, 
 that in which our Lord upbraids the two disciples 
 on their way to Emmaus, saying. Oh fools, and 
 slow of heart to believe, &c. I * And then you add, 
 " Can any one imagine, all this was merely because 
 a narrative of four hours had not wrought a thorough 
 conviction ? Is it to be believed, that God would 
 reproach any of his creatures with a defective 
 
 » l.uke xxiv. 25. 
 
 intellect, when he was pleased to give them no 
 better?" We have here. Sir, a complication of 
 mistakes: the one (as in a former instance) found- 
 ed upon the impropriety of our translation, in 
 rendering ni/oj/j-oi, fools, which (as I have elsewhere 
 observed t) ought to be translated, in a softer man- 
 ner, thoughtless or inconsiderate creatures ; which 
 contains no reflection at all on the natural defect of 
 their intellect, but on their culpable neglect of using 
 the rational powers which they possessed. I can- 
 not forbear adding, that if the miraculous illumi- 
 nation, which you suppose referred to, had been so 
 irresistible and instantaneous, as you tell us it was, 
 there would have been no room for any such reflec- 
 tion, and consequently the text would be left quite 
 defenceless, which on the common interpretation 
 admits of so easy a solution. There is another 
 error in supposing, as j'ou do, that the ground of this 
 gentle reprehension was only, " that a narrative of 
 four hours had not wrought a thorough conviction. "| 
 If you mean by a narrative of four hours, our Lord's 
 discourse with them as they were walking to Em- 
 maus, it is unlucky indeed. For not to say, how 
 many hours this conversation might employ, which 
 is not very material ; it is certain, this reproof was 
 previous to the principal part of this conversation, 
 as you will easily see in the passage itself, and re- 
 ferred to the opportunities they had enjoyed for 
 months and years before, of acquainting themselves 
 with the prophetic writings ; which if they had 
 diligently and impartially done, they would have 
 judged it no incredible or improbable report, which 
 they had received from the women who had been at 
 the sepulchre, and affirmed that Jesus was risen from 
 the dead. 
 
 I shall take notice but of two passages more, 
 which you liave in like manner disguised, that you 
 might the more easily expose them. These are 
 what you introduce in page 78. where you say, 
 " That the Scripture test and standard for finding 
 out the spirits of truth is no more than this; Here- 
 by shall ye know them : Every one that confesseth 
 that Christ is come in the flesh is of God. Now, 
 (say you,) this is evidently what philosophers call 
 arguing in a circle, and begging the (juestion ;" 
 (which, by the way, are not quite synonymous 
 terms ;) " but in fnith we see it is a necessary pre- 
 liminary. He that cometli to Christ, must believe that 
 he is." — As to the latter part of this sentence every 
 body will perceive, that, however dignified by 
 Italics, it i.s a scripture of your own making. It is 
 indeed said in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that he 
 who cometh to God, must believe that he is.§ The 
 
 + Family Expos, vol. ii. p. filR. Note (e.) 
 
 X I find, since this Letter was gone to tlie press, tlie untlior is so 
 conscious to liimself, lutw little ground there was for this reflection, as 
 to alter the (lassage in his second <rdition. lint as he has not acknow- 
 ledfjcd any mistake, I did not think it needful to recall my papers, 
 aj]d shall leave the animadversion as it stands, for those who may have 
 only seen the same edition I made u.se of in writing these remarks. 
 
 \ Hcb. xi. (J. 
 
1174 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 sense of which is phiiiily this, " that a persuasion 
 of the bein<;' of a (iod must he the foundation of all 
 rational relinion, and particularly of all devotional 
 addresses." And how a person of jour sense could 
 think of representint!; this as a circular argument, it 
 is almost imi)0ssible to inui^ine ; unless it were 
 merely to humour the character you had assumed, 
 of a Christian whose rapturous and entliusiastical 
 divinity niifiht transport him into an entire forget- 
 fulness of his logic, and perhaps teach him to 
 reckon that forgetfulness among the special gifts of 
 the Spirit, which he imagined he had received ? — 
 But as to the former, or to speak more properly, the 
 only text of Scripture which you have here repeat- 
 ed, (for the other is merely burlesqued,) I mean 
 that in John,* Archbishop Tillotson might long 
 since have furnished you with an explication, which 
 sets it above this cavil, which I confess, from the 
 mere sound of the words, might easily present itself 
 to the mind of a superficial reader. He justly ob- 
 serves, (if I remember his interpretation right,) 
 that this epistle was written, when Christianity 
 had been for a considerable time settled in the 
 world ; and that it might now be considered as 
 a test of doctrines, surticiently confirmed by a train 
 of most illustrious miracles, and a variety of other 
 evidence. In consequence of this, a person, pre- 
 suming to teach by any spirit, that Jesus was not 
 come in the flesh, might as reasonably be rejected 
 by Christians, as a pretended prophet among the 
 Jews, who, upon the credit of a dream, or a vision, 
 should attempt to draw them to idolatry. The evi- 
 dence attending the Mosaic religion was so vastly 
 superior to that, which could be supposed to arise 
 from any pretended dream, vision, or sign, that he 
 might be justly and reasonably rejected without 
 looking into his credentials. But will this. Sir, at 
 all prove, that these persons to whom the apostle 
 addresses, received Christianity at first without any 
 evidence at all ; laying it down as a first principle, 
 that it was true, and (resolving nevertheless to 
 reason a little) inferring from thence it was true, 
 and roundly concluding it is divine, because it is 
 divine ? This, Sir, is your candid representation of 
 the matter : but I would hope, few readers' heads 
 are weak enough, even after your whirl of words, 
 to be turned round in this imaginary circle. 
 
 But to return from this digression, I shall pro- 
 ceed now to examine the only two arguments 
 which I remember on the head I have been speak- 
 ing to, that are yet unanswered ; I mean, that from 
 our being required to pray for the increase of our 
 faith, and that wiiich you draw from infant bap- 
 tism. 
 
 I readily grant you, (without cavilling at the 
 argument as drawn from a particular scripture,) 
 that it is our duty to pray that our faith may be in- 
 * 1 John iv. 2. 
 
 creased : but I think no argument can be drawn 
 from hence, to prove that it is not to be promoted 
 by rational methods ; any more than we can argue, 
 that virtue is not to be rationally cultivated, be- 
 cause we are to pray for its growth in our souls. 
 What I have already said of God's operating upon 
 us as rational creatures, and in concurrence with 
 the exercise of our own faculties, when compared 
 with what I have said in my Second Letter, concern- 
 ing the nature of true faith, is an abundant solu- 
 tion of this objection. Reasonably may we desire, 
 that God would awaken our minds to diligence in 
 searching after truth ; that he would present the 
 evidence of it before us in a clear and convincing 
 light ; that he would guard our hearts from those 
 corrupt prejudices which might obstruct its en- 
 trance into them ; and that he would remind us, 
 from time to time, of those great religious truths 
 which we do believe, with such spirit and energy, 
 that our temper of life may, in a suitable manner, 
 be influenced by the realizing persuasion. In such 
 a prayer, methinks, every virtuous deist must join ; 
 as I firmly believe, that would men heartily join in 
 it, and act accordingly, they would soon cease to 
 be deists in the negative sense of the word. And 
 in proportion to the degree in which we see evident 
 reason to believe the truth of Christianity, we may 
 reasonably pray, that God, by the influences of his 
 Holy Spirit on our minds, would give us more 
 comprehensive views of its evidence, and would 
 impress a more lively sense of its great principles 
 on our hearts ; that our faith may not be a cold 
 assent, but powerful in the production of its genuine 
 fruits. 
 
 It is, on the other hand, very true, that a man, 
 who does not see reason to believe the gospel to be 
 a divine revelation, cannot rationally pray to be 
 confirmed in that belief, or even to be brought to 
 it ; but it is evident that whatever rule the Scrip- 
 ture gives on this head, it gives to those who pro- 
 fess to admit its divine authority. And a search 
 into rational evidence is so far from being incon- 
 sistent with such a prayer, that where doubts and 
 difliculties arise in the mind, which, though they do 
 not entirely destroy the assent, introduce perplexity, 
 such inquiry is the wisest method we can take to 
 secure an answer to our prayers ; provided tiicy be 
 reverently, prudently, and candidly made. But 
 this rather belongs to the subject of my First Letter. 
 What I have just now said, may be sudicient to 
 show, that the Scripture, if it encourages us to 
 pray for the increase of faith, (which I readily 
 allow that it does,) gives us no room at all to expect 
 any new revelation in answer to those prayers, 
 which is tlie only view in which the mention of 
 them could be material to your cause. 
 
 I shall conclude this head with asking you 
 seriously, whether you think Simplicius desired or 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1175 
 
 expected an immediate revelation, like that wliicli 
 you describe, wlien lie prays, " that God would ac- 
 curately rectify the reason which he has given us, 
 and remove the mist that hangs upon our under- 
 standings, that we may discern things human and 
 divine !" If you think such a prayer as this con- 
 sistent with the use of reason, whicli he desires 
 might be purified and guided, you will easily see, 
 that we may on the very same principle pray for the 
 increase of faith, without any of those enthusiastical 
 apprehensions, which you represent as essential to 
 Christianit}'. 
 
 There yet remains to be considered the argument 
 you draw from infant baptism, which you appre- 
 hend would be very absurd, if it were not supposed 
 to be attended with such a communication of the 
 Spirit, as that which is now in debate between us. 
 " Can a man," say you, " be baptized into a 
 rational religion?" (By which I suppose you mean. 
 Can that religion be rational of wliich infant bap- 
 tism is a part '.) " Where is reason concerned, when 
 babes accept the terms of salvation by deputy, and 
 are entitled to all the privileges of the most exten- 
 sive faith by another's act ? By the baptismal cere- 
 mony they commence true believers at once, and 
 are made heirs of heaven, you know, by tlie faith 
 of their bondsmen." (P. 9.) And to the same pur- 
 pose, in your 6Uth page, "The merits of the most 
 finished conviction are already theirs by imputa- 
 tion," &c. 
 
 Now here, Sir, I am obliged to say, that if there 
 be any form of baptism in the Christian world, 
 which justifies such inferences, and such a manner 
 of speaking, I am extremely sorry for it. But I am 
 very confident, the Scripture teaches nothing of 
 this kind ; and it is by that, and not by the rubric 
 of any particular cliurch, whether popish or protest- 
 ant, that the merits of tliis cause arc to be tried. 
 
 I cannot sec how any sponsor, whether he be or 
 be not a parent, can pretend to answer for a child, 
 that he shall believe or obey the gospel : nor doe.s 
 the bringing children to baptism by any means 
 imply it. What reason we have to conclude infant 
 baptism a rite of divine institution, I shall not now 
 inquire. It is enough if I show, that admitting it 
 to be so, (which I really think it is very reasonable 
 that we should admit,) it by no means implies this 
 absurd consequence. Other ends miglit be answer- 
 ed by it, valuable enough to justify the wisdom of 
 the oj-dinance : as for instance. Hereby parents may 
 give a public token of their faith in Christianity, 
 and their consequent desire that their children may 
 l)artake of its benefits, and answer its demands : 
 Hereby they may solemnly declare their resolution 
 to train them up in the institutions of our blessed 
 Master, and their resignation of them to the dis- 
 posal of Divine Providence, if God should see fit 
 early to remove them: This also may remain. 
 
 throughout all generations, as a memorial of the 
 tenderness which our Lord showed to little chil- 
 dren, and of the perpetuity of that covenant, the 
 eflicacy of which reaches from one generation to 
 another: And to add no more, it may lay a found- 
 ation for affectionate addresses to the children after- 
 wards, as being already listed under the banners of 
 Christ, so far as they could be listed by the act of 
 another; so that they must either confirm, or, in 
 effect at least, renounce, what was then done. All 
 these valuable purposes, and many more, may be 
 answered by infant baptism. But it will by no 
 means follow from hence, that this rite affects the 
 eternal state of the child ; or that, if it did affect it, 
 there must be such an extraordinary communication 
 of the Spirit to it, as you suppose. You allow, in 
 express terms, that there is no act of the child at 
 all, and that it believes nothing. How this consists 
 with its having a perfect faith wrought in its mind 
 at once, is not possible for me to conceive. I must 
 therefore conclude, that you meant nothing more 
 than to expose this practice, as you elsewhere ex- 
 pose persecution, by intimating that it cannot be 
 defended, unless your doctrine were to be granted ; 
 whence you are sure, every thinking man, who yields 
 to this part of your argument, will conclude that it 
 cannot be defended at all. On the other hand, it 
 seems sufficient for me here to have shown, that 
 your notion is not connected with Christianity, even 
 allowing infant baptism to be a part of it. May the 
 time at length come, when a zeal for the honour of 
 the gospel shall more effectually engage all its 
 ministers, to adhere to the purity both of its doc- 
 trines and institutions, and not to overload it with 
 those additions of their own, which furnish its ad- 
 versaries with matter of triumph ! In the mean time, 
 may those adversaries consider, that they are an- 
 swerable to God for the impartiality, m itii which 
 they inquire into the contents of Christianity, and 
 that they are not to take their notions of it from the 
 New Testament alone ; which if you. Sir, had been 
 pleased to have done, you would never have men- 
 tioned this argument ; nor from any thing you could 
 have met with there, could you ever have thought 
 of it. 
 
 Having thus despatched the three grand articles 
 of your pamphlet, I do not remember any thing very 
 material in it, which I have left untouched ; for 
 little slips, which neither affect the main argument, 
 nor the honour of Sc-ripture, arc not proper for the 
 notice of one, who values his own time and his 
 reader's, and seeks not to insult his antagonist, nor 
 to expose him to any unnecessary contempt. Yet 
 I cannot close without a remark or two, on what 
 you insinuate, with so much disdain, concerning 
 " the ingenious contrivance" (as you are pleased 
 to call it) " of abating the degree of evidence, to 
 leave the more room for the merit of volunteers ; 
 
TRACTS. 
 
 with (lie duty of cultivating; a pious propensity to 
 (he alliiinalivo, .solicitin;; tlie assent of our own 
 minds, and endeavouring to help our unbelief." 
 (P. 111.) This manner of representation is so lu- 
 dicious, that it is not easy to determine your mean- 
 ing. But 1 suppose it to be this. Some consider- 
 able writers in favour of our religion have often 
 said, what indeed many passages of Scripture seem 
 to favour, " that the degree of evidence attending 
 it Wiis wisely adjusted in such a manner, as to make 
 it as a touchstone to the temper of those to whom 
 it came ; and that instead of quarrelling with Pro- 
 vidence for not giving it the greatest possible evi- 
 dence, we ought rather to adore its wisdom in such 
 an adjustment." This seems to be the notion you 
 ridicule ; and if it be, I wish, that for your own 
 security from the rebound of ridicule ill placed, 
 you had condescended to show its absurdity. — Se- 
 riously to maintain that such a sentiment is con- 
 temptible, would indeed be another stab at natural 
 religion, as well as revealed. Do you imagine it, 
 Sir, impossible, that the blessed God should have 
 given any more convincing proofs of his being and 
 perfections, than those which every man now ac- 
 tually sees? I grant, these proofs are suflicient to 
 convince any reasonable person : but I ask it again, 
 Whether God could not contrive any which should 
 be more striking, and in fact more efl'cctual .' To 
 say, that he could not, is limiting the Holy One of 
 Israel in so foolish and so profane a manner, that 
 I hope. Sir, you would abhor the imputation of it : 
 and to own, that he could have done it, and yet has 
 omitted it, if at the same time be acts wisely, is in 
 effect owning the notion you so scornfully reject ; 
 or, in other words, owning that an evidence at- 
 tempered and abated in a certain degree is such, 
 as it is fit for God to give, and to prefer, in many 
 instances, to higher degrees in their own nature 
 very possible. — And where, I beseech you. Sir, is 
 the absurdity of thus trying men's integrity, any 
 more than of trying tlieir other virtues in the course 
 of life? Is it not possible, there may be a certain 
 degree of pride, or of licentiousness, so odious to 
 God, that he should give even to his own revela- 
 tion, only such a degree of evidence as he knows 
 such persons will, through the free and criminal 
 abuse of their own faculties, be ready to reject with 
 scorn ; while persons of a more humble and in- 
 genuous temper will see and submit to it? Nay, I 
 will add, must it not of course be so in the nature 
 of things, that the internal evidence of any revela- 
 tion must strike those minds most, that have the 
 truest taste of moral excellency. One would have 
 thought, that what the .sagacious author of " the 
 Analogy between Reason and Religion" has there 
 said on this subject, might have engaged any one 
 who has read it, as you intimate you have done, to 
 treat the topic with more respect; and I shall remit 
 
 you to a repeated perusal of that solid and use- 
 ful treatise, with only this one further question' ; 
 " Whether you do not think there is such a thing 
 in tiic human heart, as the counterpart to the 
 character you deride, — an impious propensity to 
 the negative, a soliciting the dissent of our own 
 minds, and an endeavouring to promote our own 
 unbelief?" If you think the will has no remote 
 inlluencc upon the understanding as to its inquiry 
 into truth, and that corrupt affections never lead a 
 man into error, from which (had his heart been 
 more upright) he might easily have been pre- 
 served, you contradict not only yourself, (compare 
 p. 63, 04.) but the common sense and experience 
 of mankind ; and introduce an universal fatality, 
 that worst of monsters, which will swallow up 
 virtue and religion together, and leave the mind an 
 easy prey to every error, and to every vice, which 
 will owe its cheap victory to the air of irresistibility, 
 with which it makes its appearance. 
 
 And is this, Sir, after all, the situation in which 
 you would wish to leave the mind of your reader ? 
 or is it such a situation, that a wise and benevolent 
 man would think it worthy of his time and labour, 
 to endeavour to bring his own mind, and that of 
 others, into it ? I would entreat you, Sir, at parting, 
 seriously to consider, how far you would have reason 
 to rejoice in the succes's of what you have written, 
 if it should be thus successful. I should think 
 nothing more instructive and edifying to you, than 
 to pause on the consequences. You would indeed 
 thereby gain a triumph : but would you, if you 
 were a soldier, for the sake of that, lay your coun- 
 try in ruins? And what else would your success in 
 this controversy do ? Let us suppose men convinced, 
 that neither Christianity, nor natural religion, are 
 capable of being rationally defended, or (if you like 
 the expression better) are founded on argument : 
 and what follows? You would indeed thereby free 
 some, for whom it is possible you may have some 
 peculiar concern, from the great anxiety which the 
 secret apprehensions of religion give them, in the 
 pursuit of their prohibited pleasures : yet could 
 you not secure them entirely from some reeoilings 
 of heart, and anguish of conscience, Mhich will 
 sometimes be thrown into convulsions even by these 
 very opiates. At least, in the intervals of tliese 
 agonies, you would imboldcn them to lay the reins 
 on the neck of appetite and passion, which, where 
 human laws, or an innate generosity of temper, did 
 not restrain, would trample down every other ob- 
 stacle, and drive on to the ruin of society. And as 
 for thoso who are truly religious, you would, as 
 Tully speaks, on supposition of a much smaller 
 evil, (the ruin of friendship,) take the very sun out 
 of their heaven. You would destroy the entertain- 
 ment of their solitude, the cement of their friend- 
 ship, the joy of their prosperity, the support of 
 
TO THE AUTHOR OF A PAMPHLET, &c. 
 
 1177 
 
 Ihciradveisity, the light of their life, the hope of their 
 death ; and would leave the most pious mind of all 
 otiiers the most desolate. For what desolation can be 
 imagined equal, or comparable, to that of falling from 
 so high a hope, from so glorious a prospect, into the 
 gloomy, cheerless, and hopeless state, in wliich a mind 
 destitute of religion must of necessity find itself? If 
 this, Sir, were to be the certain effect of reading your 
 book, (as I think it must be, if the principles of it 
 were to be admitted, and its consequences pursued,) 
 what a calamity must it have been to any wise and 
 good man to meet with it, I shall not aggravate at 
 large ; but only add, that to have been, though ever 
 so undesignedly, the instrument of such mischief, 
 the fatal occasion of grieving the good, of harden- 
 ing the bad, of subverting religion, and, by an 
 inseparable consequence, of dishonouring God, and 
 . of ruining men, is certainly to be numbered among 
 the most lamentable evils. 
 
 It is possible, indeed, that you did not lay a plot 
 for all this. If you will permit me, Sir, to speak 
 ■with all plainness and freedom, I am ready in my 
 own judgment to conclude, from comparing one 
 thing with another, that you are a kind of humour- 
 ous sceptic, who intended chiefly to amuse the 
 world, and to show your address in puzzling the 
 cause, and attacking Christianity in a peculiar dis- 
 guise, which you apprehended you could manage 
 
 1 artfully on a side which seemed to you most open. 
 Perhaps you attended to no further consequence, 
 
 j than that some of your readers would smile, and 
 some of them would be confounded, and many say 
 you had played your part in a dexterous manner, 
 and cut out work for divines, who, amidst the 
 variety of forms you assume, might find it more 
 
 difficult to deal with you, than with an enemy who 
 openly declares war, and wears a habit by wliich 
 he may more certainly be known. Views like these 
 may amuse and animate a light imagination, and 
 it may look no further. But the effect of action 
 depends not on our foresight. This is certain, 
 either religion, both natural and revealed, must be 
 I judged irrational ; or your book, whatever you 
 meant by it, must be judged pernicious, and must 
 draw after it a very solemn account in the presence 
 of God. I heartily pray, you may be thoughtful of 
 that account in time, and dismiss you, as you did 
 your young correspondent, with a text of Scripture, 
 which contains an admonition, the weight of which 
 no intelligent heathen could question. How gaily 
 soever you may have affected to sport yourself with 
 these important topics, " be not deceived, for God 
 is not mocked ;" but " whatsoever a man soweth, 
 that shall he also reap." A harvest of future glory, 
 I suppose, no man in our age and country expects 
 to secure by opposing Christianity; and I will 
 venture to say, that, so far as I can learn, few of its 
 enemies, various as their forms, and specious as 
 some of their pretences may have been, have for the 
 present raised the character of their knowledge, or 
 of their virtue, among the best judges and exam- 
 ples of both, by any attack they have made upon it. 
 And if you. Sir, how considerable soever your 
 natural talents may be, should prove the first ex- 
 ception to this general remark, it will be a great 
 surprise to 
 
 Your most humble servant, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Northampton, March 4, 1742-3. 
 
A FRIENDLY LETTER 
 
 TO 
 
 THE PRIVATE SOLDIERS, IN A REGIMENT OF FOOT, 
 
 WHICH WAS ONB OF THOSH 
 
 ENGAGED IN THE IMPORTANT AND GLORIOUS BATTLE OF CULLODEN. 
 
 Gentlemen, April \G, 1747. 
 
 I HOPE you will excnse whatever freedom may 
 attend tliis Address, as it proeeeds from sincere 
 respect and afl'ection. I look upon a brave soldier 
 with great esteem. He is the guardian of his coun- 
 try ; and every one who is a friend to it, ought 
 under that character to honour him, and love him : 
 and they in particular, who were, as you have been, 
 the happy instruments in tlie hand of God, of deli- 
 vering us from the worst of enemies, and of cutting 
 off great numbers of those traitors and rebels who 
 would have left us nothing worth fighting or living 
 for, have a peculiar claim to our regard. 
 
 You, gentlemen, to whom I now write, had your 
 part in the labours and dangers of that glorious 
 day ; and blessed be God, you were preserved in it; 
 preserved, I hope, to be further blessings to your 
 country. Divine Providence has now (as the date 
 reminds me) lengthened out your lives to another 
 year: and I should be very ungrateful, if I did not 
 wish, that your years may be happily multiplied, 
 and that God may reward and bless you w ith present 
 prosperity and future happiness. But to pretend to 
 wish this, and not to endeavour to promote it, were 
 unworthy the profession of a Christian. I cannot 
 therefore allow myself to be silent on an occasion, 
 in which I am sure both are nearly concerned. 
 
 Give me leave to speak plainly to you. It is the 
 character of a brave man, to love to hear the truth 
 without reserve or disguise: it is the character of 
 an honest man and real friend, to speak it. I had 
 ten times rather conmiend than blame ; but as cir- 
 cumstances at present stand, I will do so much 
 violence to my own inclination, as plainly and 
 boldJy to tell you, I am extremely grieved to see, 
 that so many of you have so little sense of the 
 
 goodness of the blessed God, your protector, and 
 that you take no greater care to secure his favour, 
 upon which your safety and happiness both for time 
 and eternity does so evidently depend. 
 
 You will however observe, that I charge nothing 
 that is amiss upon the whole body of you. I have 
 the pleasure to be informed, that there are some 
 among you of a very worthy character, who seem to 
 have a sense, not only of decency and morality, but 
 of true religion ; and I hope, that such will always 
 meet with the distinguished respect and encourage- 
 ment which they deserve. No single man among 
 you therefore would have been charged, nor conse- 
 quently injured, if I had mentioned the name of 
 your regiment, or the town in which you are now 
 quartered : but out of my tenderness to you, I for- 
 bear this ; and suppress my own name, as of no 
 importance in the present address. And with this 
 precaution, which (if you think at all) you must 
 see proceeds from great respect, I will now go on 
 to tell you as plainly as possible, what it is that 
 offends and grieves me; and what, if God may bless 
 this weak attempt, I sincerely desire to be the 
 instrument of reforming. 
 
 The evil which I have most immediately in view, 
 is, that you do in such an open, contemptuous, and 
 indeed outrageous manner, profane the great and 
 glorious name of God, and mock at his most awful 
 judgments. I write to you in the warmth and 
 anguish of my heart, under a very late and lament- 
 able instance of this ; which is one, among many 
 others. In walking out, not an hour ago, a few 
 yards from my own house, I have heard one company 
 of you swearing on the right hand, and another on 
 the left. I have heard the same abominable lan- 
 guage from the windows of the houses where you 
 are quartered : and it often reaches me, and wounds 
 
A FRIENDLY LETTER, &.c. 
 
 1179 
 
 niy ears, as I sit in my study. — You are calling 
 upon God to damn you ; — to damn your souls ; — to 
 damn your blood : — and tliis is your language to 
 each other ; the wish you are forming for friends, as 
 well as enemies. My heart burns with indignation, 
 and melts with compassion at the same time, while 
 I hear this foolish, this detestable language. I 
 know, that to reprove you as I pass by you in the 
 streets, would be more likely to provoke and exas- 
 perate, than to reform jou : and tlierefore I do 
 humbly and meekly, yet earnestly, beseech you, to 
 hear me a little, while I address you in this manner, 
 that I may deliver my own soul at least; and that, 
 if it be possible, I may contribute towards deliver- 
 ing yours. 
 
 Permit me therefore to ask you. Sirs, Do you be- 
 lieve there is a God ? and that there is such a thing 
 as damnation ? — If you do not, how absurd is it to 
 talk of it, and to wish it to yourselves and each 
 other ! — If you do, as I dare say you do, let me be- 
 seech you to consider, who this God is ; and what is 
 damnation. 
 
 Do you not indeed know, that God is the greatest 
 and best of all beings ? that be made you ? that 
 he preserves you every moment ? that he gives you 
 breath, while you use it thus to his dishonour 
 And have you never been told, or have you forgot, 
 that he said once from the midst of the flames, wliile 
 the mountain was trembling, and a whole miglity 
 army were ready to die with fear ; " Thou slialt not 
 take the name of the Lord thy God in vain ; for the 
 Lord will not hold him guiltless, that taketh his 
 name in vain ?" Have you not often heard this .' 
 And have you not often said, on hearing it, " Lord 
 have mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep 
 this law ;" How monstrous then is it, thus inso- 
 lently to break it continually, almost with every 
 breath ! Who are you, that dare thus boldly to pro- 
 voke God Almighty to his face ? Can you possibly 
 imagine, that you are able to resist him ? If you 
 were ten thousand times as many as you are, could 
 he not bring you in a moment all down together to 
 the dust of death, and to the flames of hell .' 
 
 Let me ask you again, do you know what dam- 
 nation is ? Did you ever consider what it signifies? 
 Why, to be damned, is to be pronounced accursed 
 by God in the great day of judgment. It is, for 
 God to say to a poor creature. Depart from me ac- 
 cursed, into everlasting Are, prepared for the devil 
 and his angels. It is, to be plunged into that lake, 
 which burns with fire and brimstone, and burns for 
 ever, which is the second death. It is, to go to 
 that place, where Christ tells us, tlie worm never 
 dies, and the fire is never (luenched. — And do you 
 indeed wish this to yourselves ? Do you tiiink you 
 could bear it ? Poor creatures ! How have I seen 
 acme of the strongest and boldest men in our army 
 ready to faint, when they have been hung up, per- 
 
 haps not for an hour, by one hand, while their foot 
 has stood upon a picquet ? Can you not then bear 
 that trifling punishment ? And can you bear dam- 
 nation? If you cannot, why do you call for it? — 
 Could you wish it to tlie worst enemy you had in 
 the world ? Surely you could not do it deliberately. 
 And yet, you wish it to your friends ; you wisli it to 
 yourselves. 
 
 Take heed. Sirs, take heed : you wish it in the 
 presence and hearing of God ; of that God, who 
 can send it upon you. And let me tell you, your 
 oaths and curses are all set down in the book of 
 his remembrance : he cannot possibly forget one 
 of them: and he will bring you into judgment for 
 them. And what will you do in the day of that 
 judgment ? The laws of man you despise ; the laws 
 of your king and country ; though you pretend a 
 great deal of regard for your king, and for the nation. 
 You trample upon their authority every day ; and 
 your fellow-subjects have not courage and virtue 
 to attempt to bring you to justice for it. But do 
 you think, that therefore you shall trample on the 
 law of God, and go unpunished ? Take heed. 
 Sirs, as you value your souls, take heed. He may 
 execute his justice upon you much sooner than you 
 think of if. 
 
 You drown your senses in liquor. Often I se^^ 
 that likewise, with the greatest concern ; though to 
 be sure, this and your swearing escape the view of 
 your olficers, or they would not bear it. But reflect 
 again, can it escape the observation of the great 
 and blessed God ? And will it be any excuse 
 before God, that you added sin to sin ? That when 
 you dishonoured him, and profaned his great and 
 terrible name, you also dishonoured your own 
 nature, and made brutes of yourselves ? Will it 
 not rather provoke God so much the more ? 
 
 Oh, Sirs, by the grace of God set yourselves im- 
 mediately to repent and reform. — Do it while there 
 is room to do it. You may perhaps be called 
 abroad in a few months, and wliole ranks of you 
 may be mowed down at once by the artillery of the 
 enemy ; or distempers at home may be as fatal. 
 And what will you do, when your separate spirits 
 come to stand before God, and you must answer to 
 him for all this wickedness ; for all this unpro- 
 fitable wickedness, which you have committed upon 
 no temptation ? which with respect to swearing is 
 so evidently the case. 
 
 Sirs, fhe hour is certainly coming, when it will be 
 too late to think of repentance and asking pardon. 
 But I hope it is not too late now : (Jod is gracious 
 and merciful ; that God, whom you have so often 
 aflVonted, and challenged to damn you. He is a 
 CJod forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin. If 
 you now humi)le yourselves before him, if you seek 
 his pardon through Christ, and seek his Spirit and 
 grace to teach you to forsake sin, and to love and 
 
1180 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 l)ractisc your duty, there is still Lope concerning 
 you. 
 
 It is tlie business of this letter, seriously to exhort 
 you to do it. I know your hearts are hardened by 
 the practice of sin ; but if you arc a little alarmed 
 by wliat I have now been setting before you, pcr- 
 ha])s God may soften them. Yea, he will surely do 
 it, if you earnestly, and seriously, and resolutely 
 ask it. 
 
 I have no interest at all in representing these 
 things to you. I am at some expense to do it. It 
 proceeds entirely from a real regard to the honour 
 of God, and the salvation of your own souls ; and 
 indeed, I may say, from a regard to your own repu- 
 tation too. For this is a most mean and infamous 
 practice ; quite below your character, as gentlemen. 
 And accordingly I must here remind you, that I 
 have never heard your oflicers fall into such lan- 
 guage ; nor heard it commonly reported of them, 
 that they use it. No ; they are sensible that it be- 
 longs not to gentlemen, but to the lowest and vilest 
 of the people, to the very dregs and refuse of man- 
 kind. The wretches who die by the hand of the 
 hangman, have generally been accustomed to such 
 language, as that of which I now desire to cure you ; 
 and perhaps, it is by the judgment of God upon 
 them for swearing and ctirsing, that they have been 
 left to commit other crimes, for which they die, and 
 are made a curse. This consideration might, rae- 
 thinks, teach you to scorn it : but the others, that I 
 have urged, are of infinitely greater importance. 
 Your souls, your immortal souls, are as it were 
 
 murdered by these hcllisli weapons, with which you 
 pierce yourselves through every hour, or almost 
 every minute. Adore the divine goodness, that you 
 have not been taken at your word ; and that expe- 
 rience, dreadful experience, has not taught you, to 
 know what damnation is. I pray God, that it never 
 may. 1 pray God, to bless this plain, affectionate, 
 and well-intended letter, as the means of doing some 
 good on some of you. And if this evil can be en- 
 dured, there will be more room to hope other happy 
 consequences may follow reformation in this respect. 
 
 But while I am thus speaking to you, let me add 
 a few words more, to entreat you to a religious ob- 
 servation of the Lord's day, to a careful attendance 
 upon the public ordinances of God, and to a readi- 
 ness to receive good instructions from any one, who 
 will be charitable enough to give them you. But 
 above all let me urge you, to pray to God, that he 
 would pardon you, and teach you better things. 
 Yes, Sirs, having called upon him so often to damn 
 your souls, now begin to cry to him to save them : 
 and rest not, till that cry be answered ; as, if you 
 persevere in the request, you will (ind it most cer- 
 tainly will. God grant that it may be so! and 
 that as you have been in one respect, you may each 
 of you be in another, like a brand plucked out of 
 the burning! It is, I am sure, the earnest desire, 
 and by the grace of God it shall be the frequent 
 prayer, of. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 Your alTcctionatc fiicnd, 
 
 and faithful servant, kc. 
 
LETTERS, 
 
 FROM 
 
 THE REV. PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D. D. 
 
 WITH 
 
 NOTES EXPLANATORY AND BIOGKAPIIICAL. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 From a volume of Letters to and from Dr. Doddridge, published in 1790, bi/ 
 
 Thomas Sledman, M. A. 
 
 LETTER I* 
 
 From Mr. Doddridge to Mr. Hughcs.\ 
 
 Kibworlli, December 21, 1721. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I UECF.IVF.D both your letters, and had set apart 
 tliis afternoon for answering tliem. My fond lieart 
 would easily have dictated enough to fill a sheet of 
 paper ; but j\Ir. Cope tells nie the roads arc so bad 
 that he must set out almost immediately, if he 
 intends to reach Duffield by to-morrow night. I 
 am obliged therefore to be much shorter than I 
 intended, but T hope you will put no unkind 
 construction upon it. 
 
 I am charmed with the profession yon make of 
 your friendship ; for I value it so liighly that I can 
 never think I have too many assurances of it; and 
 yet I have not the least suspicion of your sincerity. 
 I know the generosity of your temper, and I per- 
 ceive I iove you so well, that I can easily persuade 
 myself, that I have a share in your affection. I 
 know the last argument is not logical, but I am so 
 well satisfied with the conclusion, that I do not ex- 
 amine how I came by it ; and especially as you have 
 furnished me with many better arguments. 
 
 I am extremely glad to hear that you are so well 
 recovered from the small-pox. I could not but 
 have a thousand tender apprehensions for your 
 safety, and return my thanks to that kind Provi- 
 dence, which by so seasonable an interposition hath 
 delivered you from so much danger, and still con- 
 tinued you to be the joy of your friends, the glory of 
 your family, and ornament of the church. 
 
 I am very much pleased to hear that your situa- 
 tion at Findern is so agreeable ; and particularly 
 
 ♦ Fi')m the autlior's sTiort.hand ropy. 
 
 + Mr. Iliighe.s'8 father was a dis.'jeijtiii|; minister at Ware, in Ilerl. 
 fordshlre, and hi.s (frandfathcr, (Ohadiah Hughes,) was ejected from his 
 stndentship in Clirist-f iinrch, Oxford, by the Art of (Jniformily, in 
 18<;2. I lake him to have been relatrd to John HuKhes, Esq. author of 
 tbc.Sirgeof I(.ima.srii», and who wrote several papers in the Taltlir, 
 Spectator, arid fruardi.in. 
 
 that you have such a companion as Mr. Cater. I 
 am cliarmed with the character you give me of that 
 gentleman ; and indeed when I heard of the fine- 
 ness of his imagination, and the strength of his 
 judgment, the sweetness of his temper, and charac- 
 ter of his morals, I should have said, — this gentle- 
 man is Mr. Hughes's friend, — though I had not 
 been told so. How glad should I be to make the 
 third among you, and liow agreeably does it flatter 
 my nature to think, that I have sometimes the 
 honour of being the subject of your discourse. 
 
 I never doubted but that when you came seri- 
 ously to peruse the inspired writings you would be 
 sensible of the charms of them ; for no man has a 
 better relish for fine writing than yourself. I have 
 lately been perusing Solomon's Song ; and upon 
 the whole cannot but think it an incomparable com- 
 posure, and that the aullior was as much the 
 noblest of poets, as the deepest of philosophers and 
 the wisest of kings. The sixth cliapter is not in- 
 ferior to any of the rest of it, and I am particularly 
 pleased with the tenth verse, "Who is she that 
 looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, 
 clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with ban- 
 ners ?" I never read these charming words but 
 with a double pleasure, when I remember the in- 
 imitable grace with which I have heard you repeat 
 them. 
 
 I have lately been reading Spratt's History, and 
 the greatest part of Sir William Temple's Works : 
 and my sentiments of them are entirely the same as 
 yours and Mr. Cater's. I am now perusing Scott's 
 Christian Life, and I find so many new pleasures in 
 it, that I cannot forbear giving you the mortifica- 
 tion of thanking you again for it. 
 
 I could add a great deal more of this nature, but 
 Mr. Cope frees you from any further trouble by 
 calling upon me. I conclude, and subscribe myself 
 Your afl'cctionatc friend, 
 
 and obliged humble servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
1184 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER II.* 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Jan. 8, 1722-3. 
 
 De.ak Sir, 
 
 I EXPECT lo see Dr Latham f or Mr. Benyon I to- 
 morrow ; and Ihercfore answer your letter so soon. 
 I can liarilly prevail with myself to condole with 
 you upon your misfortunes, since I perceive that 
 while only two or three particular persons are treat- 
 ing you unkindly, tlie rest of the world do ample 
 justice to your merit. I have heard of you again 
 and again by several of my acquaintance, who speak 
 of you as the ornament of Findern : I am very glad 
 to hear that your character is so well established, 
 and that those who go about to attack it are likely 
 to do themselves more mischief than they can do 
 you. I think the Spectator somewhere tells us, that 
 " no music is so sweet to a man as his own praise :" 
 nietliinks he should have excepted tiie pleasure that 
 an honest and generous mind takes in hearing his 
 friend commended. One thing I can confidently 
 aflRrm, that though I passed the holidays very plea- 
 santly, at least some of them, in the company of a 
 very agreeable lady, and you know I was always an 
 admirer of the sex ; yet nothing gave me so much 
 satisfaction, as a few minutes' conversation with Mr. 
 Benyon, when the discourse turned upon you. 
 
 He told me, among other things, that you were 
 making yourself master of the French language. I 
 am heartily glad to hear it, because it will give you 
 an opportunity of entertaining yourself with some 
 of tlie finest writers in the world. Many of them 
 had certainly very great genius, and were intimately 
 acquainted with the ancients, those great masters 
 of eloquence and poetry. Of all their dramatic 
 poets, 1 have met with none that I admire so much 
 as Racine. It is impossible not to be charmed with 
 the pomp, elegance, and harmony, of his language, 
 as well as the majesty, tenderness, and propriety, of 
 his sentiments. The whole is conducted with a 
 wonderful mixture of grandeur and simplicity, 
 which sufficiently distinguish him from the dulness 
 of some tragedians, and the bombast of others. One 
 of his principal faults is, that the jingle of his 
 double rhyme is frequently offensive to the ear. I 
 lately met with the Archbishop of Cambray's Re- 
 flections upon Eloquence, which I think one of the 
 most judicious pieces I have ever seen. There are 
 .some fine criticisms at the end of it, which well de- 
 serve your perusal. 
 
 As for the French sermons, they are, as far as I 
 can judge of them, very much inferior to those of 
 
 * From the author's short-hand copy. 
 
 + An eminent tutor, and the author of a volume of sermons on various 
 subjects. 
 
 i An ingenious youni? grentleman, son of Dr. isamucl Benyon, a cele- 
 brated mini.'^ter and tutor nt Shrewsbury. 
 
 our English divines. Bourdaloue's, though much 
 regarded, appear to me little better than empty ha- 
 rangues. Cheminais' are many of them very good ; 
 but I never met with any of them that are to he 
 compared with those of Mr. Superville, the protest- 
 ant divine at Rotterdam. He especially excels in 
 the beauty of his imagery, descriptions, and similes ; 
 and some of the most pathetic expostulations I ever 
 saw. In short, I believe he is perfectly to your 
 taste ; only there is one thing which will displease 
 you as much as it did me, which is, that many of 
 his arguments are very inclusive, though generally 
 as good as high Calvinism will bear. I hope you 
 will not be displeased with the freedom I take in 
 advising you to entertain yourself with him and the 
 other authors 1 have mentioned, as soon as they fall 
 in your way. And yet perhaps there may be some- 
 thing of vanity in this advice too. French is a lan- 
 guage which I have been acquainted with for many 
 years, and you. Sir, have just began to study it; 
 and so I am willing to improve this short interval 
 of superiority, because I am sure, it will be but a 
 little while before you excel me in that, as much as 
 you do in every thing else. I must not add any thing 
 more, but that I earnestly desire you will take care 
 that you do not impair your health, by rising so 
 very early in the morning, for I will assure you it is 
 one of the dearest things in the world to 
 Your aft'eetionate friend, 
 and obedient servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER III.§ 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Hinckley, 1722-3. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I ACKNOWLEDGE there is a great deal of spirit in 
 the turn you give to the concluding words of ray 
 letter, though it be extremely different from the 
 sense in which I meant them. You tell me that I 
 am a good preacher, but a very bad prophet, when 
 I say that you will quickly understand French bet- 
 ter than I do. I am very much obliged to you for 
 giving me a character, which I should otherwise per- 
 haps have been puzzled to make out a title to: but you 
 must give me leave to say, that in the latter part of 
 your sentence you hardly do me justice. It is true, 
 I do not lay claim to the gift of prophecy ; but I 
 think I .shall be very capable of supporting it, if all 
 my predictions are as well made out as that v/hich 
 concerns you. I assure you, that though I judge by 
 your own account of it, which is expressed in the 
 
 5 From the author's short .hand copy. 
 
LETTER IV. 
 
 1185 
 
 most modest terms, you have already attained a 
 much better acquaintance with the French language 
 than I can possibly pretend to. It is true, I have 
 had an opportunity of conversing with several 
 French people, and so am not entirely a stranger to 
 the pronunciation ; but I assure you that I never 
 read half the books that you mention. Indeed it 
 shames me out of my own negligence, when I con- 
 sider the improvement you make, and the business 
 you despatch, while I am afraid I am not improving 
 my time to half so good a purpose. Besides, the 
 character that you give me of many of the writers 
 that you mention, which I know is entirely to be 
 depended upon, will engage me to read them when- 
 ever they fall into my hands ; especially Bouhours, 
 Patrou, Pelisson, and St. Evremond. 
 
 I do not know what character my friends may 
 have given you of my sermons ; but I am sure, if it 
 be a very advantageous one, it will be my most pru- 
 dent way to take care not to undeceive you, by 
 preaching before you ; for if I may be admitted to 
 be any judge of my own performances, they will by 
 no means answer your expectations. They are all 
 upon the plainest and most practical subjects, and 
 it is happy if they are at all calculated, as I am sure 
 they were principally intended, to inform the judg- 
 ment and awaken the consciences of the lowest of 
 the people, and to fix their resolution for a course 
 of rational, steady, and undissembled piety. It is 
 not because I despise the charms of eloquence, &c. 
 that I have entirely laid them aside. I know that I 
 am not at all master of them, and so choose rather not 
 to attempt them, than by an awkward imitation to 
 darken the subject to the vulgar part of an audience, 
 without approving myself to the nicer judgment of 
 the more polite. In short, I am grown very familiar 
 with the old puritans, and consequently I am a 
 great favourite with the old women. Pray congra- 
 tulate me upon this good fortune, which is entirely 
 beyond my expectation or my hope. 
 
 But after all, you must not imagine that I have 
 entirely lost all relish for finer compositions ; on the 
 contrary, I assure you, that I attended on Dr. 
 Latham's sermon at Leicester, with pleasure, and 
 frequently with transport. The most rational and 
 pathetical thoughts were delivered with such ele- 
 gance, propriety, and harmony of language, as could 
 not but charm even stupidity itself; my attention 
 was so entirely engaged, that I had no room for re- 
 flections of any other nature, except for this one, 
 " How much docs Mr. Hughes admire Dr. Latham, 
 and how capable is Dr. Latham of relishing the 
 performances of Mr. Hughes!" 
 
 You cannot imagine how much I miss your com- 
 
 jiany at Hinckley. Mr. Cope and Mr. left us 
 
 at Christmas, as you very well know. Mr. Some is 
 not returned ; so that, in short, I have not one per- 
 son in tlie house that I have any intimate acquaint- 
 4 r. 
 
 anee with. You know nature designed me for a 
 sociable animal, and I am sure you will pity my 
 misfortune. I am forced to converse with the dead, 
 because I want agreeable company among the liv- 
 ing ; and it is happy that I can meet with enter- 
 tainment in the closet, when I can find none in the 
 hall, the parlour, or the garden. 
 
 You inquire about Mr. Scott's poems. I only 
 know in general, that he intends to print them by 
 subscription ; but what the price is to be, or how 
 the subscriptions are to be obtained, I have not yet 
 heard. However, when I know, I will not fail to 
 inform you. I am very glad to hear that you are 
 commencing a familiarity with the Muses, because 
 you are very well qualified to be a favourite with 
 them. I assure you, that I will give you my opinion 
 of your performances with a great deal of freedom, 
 if you will honour me so far as to make mc a judge 
 of them. I pretty well know what I have to ex- 
 pect, and therefore I long for a sight of them. 
 I am, dear Sir, 
 Yours, &.C. 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 P. S. My most humble respects to Dr. Latham, 
 if he honours me so far as to remember that he saw 
 me at Leicester. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Jan. 28, 1726. (Midnight,) 
 
 Dear Sik, 
 
 I RECEIVED yourlast of the 23d instant, the morning 
 after it was written. I own I deserved a little of 
 that severity with which you there complain of me, 
 for the circumstance of the note you referred to. 
 To have two folio pages with two lines, is indeed a 
 very compendious, but not profitable, commerce. 
 However, you must remember that I then told you, 
 I quickly intended you a great many more. Here 
 you see I have began them ; but when I shall end I 
 know not. I fear you are in danger of three pages, 
 and then you will be paid at the rate of more than 
 two hundred per cent. ; for I have not been a quar- 
 ter of a year in your debt. If you wonder at so 
 accurate a computation, you must recollect, that a 
 few months ago 1 had thoughts of matrimony, 
 which naturally led me into some speculations of 
 management and economy, which had not been be- 
 fore familiar to me. 
 
 As for yours of the 20th of April, I have read it 
 oversooften, that I can say a good deal of it by heart, 
 I am exceedingly obliged to you for your corres- 
 
IISG 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 pondonce. You know tbat I am naturally of a 
 social temper, and you contrive, in the abundance 
 of your hunuinify, not only to give mc pleasure in 
 perusing your letters myself, but in entertaining niy 
 friends witli tlie communication of them. I read 
 the greatest part of them to several persons of taste 
 and politeness, with wbom I am acquainted, and 
 they all seem to be charmed with them. Though 
 they become perfectly familiar to me, I alv\ ays read 
 them with new pleasure ; and am as mucli trans- 
 ported at the twentieth, as I was at the first, perusal 
 of tbcm. A love for my friends makes me partici- 
 pate with them in that elegant entertainment which 
 they must receive from your writings; and my af- 
 fection to you makes it very delightful to me, to see 
 those whom I particularly love and value, forming 
 sucb a generous idea of your genius and temper, as 
 your letters must necessarily produce. But perhaps 
 after all, this satisfaction in part arises from tlie 
 pride of my own heart : I fancy people must needs 
 entertain a very honourable opinion of me, when 
 they bear a man of so bright a wit, and so amiable 
 a character, addressing me with so much tenderness 
 and respect. 
 
 You recommended Pliny to my perusal: I imme- 
 diately procured him, and there is seldom a day in 
 which I do not read two or three of his Epistles. I 
 had before heard several high encomiums upon 
 him ; but nothing gave me so lively and so just an 
 idea of his excellences, as to observe the perfec- 
 tion to which you had formed yourself by the study 
 of him. Every letter of yours is a panegyric upon 
 Pliny, though you do not mention his name. Let 
 me entreat yon to go on thus to recommend him, 
 and to increase the pleasure with wliich I always 
 take him into my hands ; liowever, be sure when 
 you do, not so far to exceed him, as to spoil my 
 relish for him. At the rate you go on, it seems 
 highly possible that you may ; and if you do, you 
 rob mc of one of the most elegant amusements of 
 my life ; nor can I imagine how you will be able to 
 make me amends any other way than by the fre- 
 quency of your own letters. I say nothing of Hen- 
 ley's translation, which is lately fallen into my 
 hands, and which I often compare with the ori- 
 ginal. I can say but little by way of commend- 
 ation ; and I know it would not be agreeable to the 
 known candour of your temper to be severe upon a 
 man, wlio Iionestly intended to entertain the world, 
 and unveil the charms of your favourite author. 
 However, if you would know my sentiments of this 
 and several other pieces which I have lately read, 
 I must refer you to a letter which I lately sent to 
 Mr. Clark, which w ill save me the trouble of writ- 
 ing over again, what I am afraid you will think it 
 was hardly worth while to have written at all. 
 
 Your sentiments on the head of retirement are 
 very agreeable to that modesty and gentleness of 
 
 tcn)pcr, which make a very amiable part of your 
 character. It is indeed an argument of the great- 
 ness of your soul, that you can despise fame, and 
 retire with indiilerence out of the air of popular 
 applause, when master of all the talents that may 
 attract and command it. But after all, my friend, 
 you must not think of passing through the world 
 like a subterraneous stream, as you beautifully ex- 
 press it, or of spending your life in a hermitage, in 
 this learned and polite luxury. God hath endowed 
 you with capacities, which are not always to be 
 buried in retirement. So bright a lamp was not 
 lighted up to consume in a sepulchre, but to be 
 fixed on an eminence, where its rays may be dif- 
 fused with public advantage, and conduct many 
 through tliis gloomy desert to the regions of eternal 
 glory. I hope therefore, and believe, it is your 
 constant care to make all your studies subservient 
 to the views of sucli services. When Providence 
 calls you to a more public appearance, I hope 
 you will be willing to quit your cell, charming 
 as it is, that you may enter upon employments 
 at least more important, if not more delicate, than 
 those which you now pursue. This is a piece of 
 self-denial, which duty requires us to submit to; 
 and which will be acceptable to God in proportion 
 to our fondness for those elegancies, which we are 
 contented to interrupt and postpone, that we may 
 attend to the advancement of his kingdom and in- 
 terest. We know the applause of our heavenly 
 Master will be an abundant recompense for all the 
 pleasures we have given up for his sake ; and be- 
 fore we receive that public remuneration, we shall 
 find such entertainment in the exercise of benevo- 
 lence to our fellow-creatures, and the hope of pro- 
 moting their everlasting felicity, as we shall never 
 find, in conversing with Virgil or Tully, Pliny or 
 Addison, or any of the favourite attendants of our 
 solitude. Popularity is in itself a most contempti- 
 ble thing; but in this view, it may justly appear 
 desirable : liowever you, my friend, need not be 
 solicitous about it ; do but appear in public and 
 follow nature, and it will flow in upon you without 
 further care. I cannot but think but that I may, 
 with the utmost propriety, apply to you what Pliny 
 says to Caninius Rufus, (L. i. Ep. 3.) " In modo 
 enitere ut tibi ipse sis tanti, quanti videberis aliis, 
 si tibi fueris."* 
 
 I cannot but acknowledge that I read with great 
 pleasure your " refiections on that period of our 
 existence," as you very emphatically call it, which 
 passed before you left Mr. Jennings's. They arc 
 extremely agreeable to what I have often thought 
 with relation to both of us at that time. It is happy 
 for us that we see our mistakes. Pereunt et im- 
 putantur, would be a melancholy thought indeed, 
 
 * Po justice to those excellent talents you possess, nnd the woil<I, 
 believe mc, will certainly do so too.— MelmolK a Translation. 
 
 1 
 
LETTER V. 
 
 1187 
 
 if divine grace had not awakened us to improve 
 some of our time like rational creatures and like 
 Christians; and if we did not hope, by future dili- 
 gence, in some measure to recover what we have 
 lost. I was talking with Mr. Some this evening 
 about our conduct then, and read him what you 
 say of it. He heard it with great satisfaction, and 
 remarked, that " the remembrance of former negli- 
 gence and mistakes is often of considerable use 
 throughout the remainder of life." 
 
 I have not yet seen Mr. . He will be very 
 
 welcome whenever he comes, but doubly so if he 
 brings you with him. If he does not make haste I 
 may prevent him, for though I have two congrega- 
 tions upon my hands on account of Mr. *s ill- 
 ness and absence, I hope to take a tour to St. Al- 
 ban's about the beginning of September : and 
 believe nic, that except it be the pleasure of seeing 
 so worthy a frienfl and so generous a benefactor as 
 dear Mr. Clark, nothing is so great an encourage- 
 ment to me to undertake the journey, as the 
 prospect of spending a whole day with you at Cliild- 
 wick ; when I expect most delightful entertain- 
 ment from your collection of books and letters, but 
 above all from your company. 
 
 You desire an account of my studies. I may, 
 perhaps, some time or other, find an opportunity of 
 laying open the whole course of them to your cen- 
 sure and examination, but at present have only left 
 myself room to add that I am. 
 Dear Sir, 
 Your most affectionate 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Pray give another name than that you propose, 
 and let me know what your polite correspondents 
 call you. I will not allow of Heraclitus. 
 
 N. B. This letter is more than half as long again 
 as yours. I heartily thank you, that you were not 
 curious in your writing, because it furnishes me 
 with an excuse for not transcribing this, which I 
 fear is hardly legible. Dr. Atterbury's translation 
 of the Banishment of Cicero seems to me admirably 
 well done. The language is exceeding beautiful, 
 and many of his translations from Tully are as 
 graceful as the Latin. 
 
 LETTER v.* 
 
 To Mr. Hughes, on his ill success in the Lottery. 
 
 Nov. 30, 1720. 
 
 I HAVE just been looking over the account which 
 my dear Atticus gives me of his misfortune in the 
 late most disadvantageous Lottery. I will not 
 
 * From the autlior's short-hand copy. 
 4 u 2 
 
 remind him how many more were as unfortunate as 
 himself, since that, to a man of his temper, would 
 be rather an aggravation than a relief of his afllie- 
 tion. And yet your own Pliny says, that when he 
 was in danger of being destroyed by that eruption 
 of Mount Vesuvius, which proved so fatal to his 
 learned uncle, " Possem gloriari, — nisi me cum om- 
 nibus, omnia mecum perire misero, magno tamen mor- 
 talitatis solatio credidissem," L. vi. E. 20. w hich is 
 so odd a saying for a man of his singular humanity, 
 that I could not forbear mentioning it, to ask your 
 opinion of it. However, my good friend, I offer 
 you no such miserable consolation. No : were I 
 to speak of others as concerned in the same adven- 
 ture, I would rather suggest, that it is possible Pro- 
 vidence may have ordered the wheel so, that while 
 you seeratobeneglected, other persons, of a like wor- 
 thy character, but in more necessitous circumstances, 
 may be relieved. It is possible, that in consequence 
 of your drawing a blank, some honest family may 
 have been preserved from ruin : or perhaps Provi- 
 dence directed the prize, which had otherwise been 
 yours, to some unthankful creature, who had ever 
 hitherto been insensible of all its bounty, but is 
 awakened by so apparent an interposition in its 
 favour, to know and adore its munificence, and so 
 is engaged to consecrate, not only his new acquisi- 
 tion, but all his former possessions, to the honour 
 of God, and the benefit of mankind. If this should 
 be the case, the world would receive greater advan- 
 tage from his success, than it could have done from 
 yours, as you would have only been possessed of 
 the riches of the mind, in laying in a considerable 
 stock of wisdom and knowledge, which this oppor- 
 tunity would have afforded you, and have laid out 
 but little more than the value of your prize in 
 works of generosity and charity. Not to say that 
 this happy adventurer, on this supposition, has 
 gained the pleasure of a virtuous life, and a happy 
 immortality, by this little damage which you have 
 sustained. 
 
 You imagine that your loss is a misfortune to your 
 friends. But perhaps it is upon the whole a hap- 
 piness. Providence might know that /, in parti- 
 cular, had not attained to such a strength of virtue, 
 as to be able to bear such an accession to my 
 fortune, as would have been the consequence of 
 your getting one of the golden numbers ; and so 
 may have assigned them to others, whose friends 
 are more fit to receive the advantage of them, or 
 otherwise are not the objects of so tender a care. 
 We ought not only to be contented but thankful 
 for this. 
 
 I may more certainly add, that with relation to 
 your own personal concernment, your heavenly 
 rather, in his abundant wisdom and goodness, 
 meant you kindly by such a disappointment. Per- 
 haps he saw, that so tender and so complaisant a 
 
1I8S 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 temper was not siillieiontly prepared to witlistand 
 tlie temptations of a plentiful fortune ; and that you 
 niiitht have grown too fond of the world, whieh liad 
 oi)ened so many new charms for your entertainment, 
 and have been less mindful of that glorious end, 
 wliich you are advancing towards in so pleasant a 
 way. O, who knows that the way would in fact 
 liave been more pleasant to you ? More external 
 ornaments of life you would certainly have had, 
 but not therefore certainly niore inward content. 
 Providence, no doubt, intends by this dispensation, 
 to teach you to moderate your expectations, to sub- 
 mit to disappointments, to contract your regards for 
 this world, and transfer them to the glories of a 
 future state, and the durable riches which you will 
 then possess ; and if tliis divine temper be improv- 
 ed in your mind, by the loss of a few pounds, be- 
 lieve me, my dear Atticus, it will contribute more 
 to promote the happiness of life, than the gain of 
 so many liundreds or thousands with the injury of 
 such a temper. 
 
 Perhaps you will tell me, what I verily believe, 
 that nothing in this aflair is so afllictive to you, as 
 that you arc deprived of the pleasure of doivy good 
 with M hat you liave lost, or expected to have gain- 
 ed. But I need not tell you, that in all our acts of 
 benevolence, we ought not so much to regard the 
 present indulgence of natural temper, as the appro- 
 bation of God, and the reward of a future state. 
 Now God sees all the secret generosity of your soul, 
 your tender compassion for those that are in misery, 
 your hearty desire of relieving them, your affec- 
 tionate prayers to the fountain of good to commu- 
 nicate to them those seasonable supplies, which are 
 not in the power of yourownhand to give ; and hehas 
 particularly been acquainted with all the generous 
 projects you had formed for the public good, on 
 supposition of the success of your late adventure. 
 Now you know, that he does as graciously approve 
 you, and will as bountifully reward you, for this 
 lionest and liberal sentiment and intention, as he 
 would have done for the actual execution of tliem, 
 if he had given you an opportunity for it. 
 
 And as such a generosity of soul, acting in pro- 
 portion to present circumstances, is equally agree- 
 able to God, and will produce as gracious a harvest 
 in a future state, so it is attended with some con- 
 siderable degree of tlie same satisfaction at present. 
 You may now [)crhaps give a shilling with as true 
 overflowing of soul, and almost as much joy too, as 
 you could give a guinea if you were twenty times 
 as rich. For as we are much impressed by present 
 objects, the satisfaction which we find in the per- 
 formance of a generous action towards any deter- 
 minate person, seems to be proportional to that 
 degree of pleasure which we imagine he will find in 
 receiving the benefit. 
 
 Now a virtuous and generous lencficiary rejoices 
 
 in the favour that is done to him, not merely accord' 
 ing to the value of the favour abstractedly consider- 
 ed, but according to the degree of moral beauty 
 which is to be found in the act of conferring it: and 
 this is in a great measure to be estimated by the 
 consideration of the circumstances of the benefactor. 
 Therefore a man may receive a shilling from you 
 now, with almost as much pleasure as he could 
 receive a pound of you, were you twenty times as 
 rich ; and therefore you may in this respect bestow 
 as much. Q. E. D. 
 
 Perhaps I have been a little too abstruse in my 
 reasoning upon this head, but I think there is some 
 meaning at the bottom, and my assertion is confirmed 
 by my own experience ; for I have found as exqui- 
 site pleasure in receiving some little services from 
 my friends, when attended with circumstances of 
 generosity and endearment, as I ever did in any of 
 greater importance. And it seems to be the thought 
 of Solomon, when he says, The desire of a man is hit 
 hindness. 
 
 After what I have said with relation to your loss, 
 I must tell you that I am heartily glad you are so 
 much more successful in the far nobler pursuit of 
 learning and virtue. I have much to say as to other 
 particulars, but you see I have but just left myself 
 room to add, that I am 
 
 Your most affectionate 
 
 HORTENSIUS. 
 
 LETTER VI.* 
 
 To 3Iiss , on breaking her arm by a fall from 
 
 a horse. 
 
 November 18, 1727. 
 
 Dear Madam, 
 I HAVE just received the melancholy news of your 
 fall, and tlie sad consequences with which it has 
 lieen attended. Mrs. W. who gives me this unwel- 
 come information, adds, that though you arc on the 
 mending hand, you still continue very ill. I cannot 
 set myself to any other business till I have taken a 
 few minutes to tell you how sensibly I sympathize 
 with you in your sorrows. As my obligations to 
 your excellent family are very great, I cannot but 
 have an undisscmbled affection for every member of 
 
 it, and I am sure dear Miss has always had 
 
 her full share in my heart; as indeed, who could 
 forbear to admire and love so much piety and good 
 sense, when set off" by the ornaments of a beautiful 
 form, and a most engaging temper? I know too, 
 that my friendship for you was both sincere and 
 tender, but I was never fully apprized of its degree 
 
 * From Ihe autlior's short. haiiil copy. 
 
LETTER VI. 
 
 1189 
 
 till since it pleased God to visit you with that 
 affliction, which now lies so heavy upon you, and 
 gives you the justest title to the compassion of 
 strangers, and much more of friends. But, alas ! 
 how vain is the compassion of human friends in a 
 case like yours ; and indeed in any case ! when it 
 is left to itself, it can only sit down and weep over 
 calamities which it knows not how to relieve. I do 
 therefore, Madam, most importunately recommend 
 you to the compassion of that God, who can easily 
 raise you out of all your troubles, and can make 
 your affliction the means of your happiness. How 
 happy should I esteem myself, if I might be in any 
 degree a worker together with him, towards promot- 
 ing so excellent a service as your spiritual improve- 
 ment by this afflictive providence. Permit me, 
 Madam, humbly to attempt it, and hastily to men- 
 tion a few hints of a serious nature, which I imagine 
 peculiarly suitable to your present circumstances. 
 
 It may seem nowise unsuitable to the occasion 
 of my writing, to urge that submission to the divine 
 will which becomes us under every chastisement. 
 But this is, no doubt, the matter of frequent reflec- 
 tion and discourse with you ; the known piety of 
 your general character, and the remarkable meek- 
 ness and sweetness of your temper, make it less 
 necessary for me to insist upon it. I am fully per- 
 suaded, Madam, that you do not allow yourself to 
 murmur and repine against the Lord who smitcth 
 you. But pardon me if I ask, whether you be not 
 too ready to forget your obligations to love and 
 praise ? I look upon it as one of the greatest de- 
 fects in the character of good people, and as the 
 foundation of many more visible irregularities, that 
 they delight in God no more, and that they praise 
 liim no more. Too much is this excellent work 
 neglected in the midst of health, prosperity, and 
 cheerfulness ; but when affliction comes, and espe- 
 cially when it comes in so terrible a form as this 
 which has lately visited you, a Christian is ready to 
 imagine, that it is enough to be quiet and resigned, 
 and that he is fairly excused from such delightful 
 exercises of soul, which seem unsuitable to so 
 gloomy a season. But let us learn to correct so 
 unreasonable a thought, and surely a little reflection 
 might teach us to correct it. 
 
 With regard to your present circumstances, you, 
 Madam, are exercised by the anguish of a hrohcn 
 hone, which may probably exceed the imagination 
 of those who have not known it by fatal experience ; 
 but is it not just foundation of joy and of praise, 
 that your life is still prolonged to you ? It is true, 
 your behaviour, so far as I have had the opportunity 
 of observing it, has been such as could not deserve so 
 much as the tendercst reproof of a friend ; but you 
 will humbly acknowledge, what no human creature 
 can deny, thai an omniscient and a holy God has 
 seen many oflences in a life which to men has ap- 
 
 peared most unexceptionable and most amiable. 
 And you are not to learn, that the smallest violation 
 of his sacred law may justly expose us to all the 
 miseries of a future state. And is it not matter of 
 praise that you are yet in the land of the living, 
 and within the reach of pardon and of hope? Nay, 
 I do verily believe that, through divine grace, you 
 are already in a state of reconciliation and favour 
 with God, and in the way to everlasting happiness ; 
 and when you think of the glory that shall be re- 
 vealed, and think of your own interest in it, surely 
 your heart might overflow with thankfulness and 
 joy, though your present agonies were multiplied 
 upon you. These, Madam, are noble resources 
 of consolation, which should not be forgotten in 
 your most painful moments — that God is your 
 Father, Christ your Saviour, and heaven your 
 eternal inheritance. 
 
 But further, when you attentively survey the 
 present dispensation, you will certainly find, that 
 there is a mixture of mercy in it, and all that 
 mixture of mercy is in a proportionable degree mat- 
 ter of praise. You have broken your arm ; but 
 had not mercy interposed, you would not have sur- 
 vived to have been sensible of it. A very small 
 alteration in the circumstances of your fall might 
 have made it fatal to your life. You arc made to 
 possess' days of anguish, and wearisome nights are 
 appointed to you ; but does not an indulgent Provi- 
 dence surround you with comforts, which mollify 
 your sense of that distress ? I need not to insist 
 ui)on those instances which so grateful a heart can- 
 not overlook. You recollect the piety and tender- 
 ness of your excellent parents : you observe the 
 respect and afl'ection of many other agreeable and 
 valuable friends : you review tliat afllucnce of 
 worldly possessions which, through the divine 
 goodness, is flowing in upon you, and furnishes 
 you with the most judicious advice, the most proper 
 remedies, and the most agreeable accommodations 
 and entertainments, which your present circum- 
 stances can require and admit. And in the force of 
 these united considerations, you own, that it is 
 reasonable even now to praise the Lord, who is 
 daily loading you with his benefits, and vastly over- 
 balances your affliction with mercies. 
 
 But w hat if I should proceed still further, and 
 maintain, not only that it is your duty to praise 
 God for his other mercies, though he has afflicted 
 you, but to praise him for this affliction as a mercy ? 
 I should say no more than the Scripture warrants, 
 w hen it exhorts us " in every thing to give thanks," 
 and tells us that " all things shall work together 
 for good to them that love God." 
 
 I know, Madam, and I persuade myself you 
 seriously consider, that the interests of the soul are 
 vastly more valuable than those of the body. Now 
 it is certain, that such a calamity as this may be the 
 
1190 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 means of great improvftncnt and advantage to yonv 
 soul. It may wean your heart from tlic world, and 
 lix it upon God more than lielore : it may make you 
 r. more lively and zealous Christian, and by conse- 
 quence, more happy and useful in life, and more 
 glorious throughout all the aj^cs of eternity. And 
 if it has a tendency to promote so exalted an end, 
 you have certainly reason to hi ess God for it, thouj;h 
 it he attended with some trying eircumstajiccs ; 
 as you would ap,prove and be thankful for the set- 
 ting of a broken bone, tliough it were a very painful 
 operation, since it was so subservient, and indeed 
 so necessary, to the pleasure and usefulness of life. 
 
 As all alllictions have, by the divine blessings, a 
 tendency to lead the mind into some serious rei'ec- 
 tions, so every particular trial lias its own peculiar 
 advantage, which it is proper for us to study while 
 ■we are under the pressure of it. 
 
 That I may give my dear and excellent friend all 
 the assistance I can, I will mention some lieads of 
 religious contemplation which occur to my thoughts, 
 as peculiarly'proper to dwell upon while we are in 
 actual pain. And if it please God to impress them 
 deeply upon your mind, you will find. Madam, that 
 it will be worth your while to have borne the smart 
 of an allliction, which may prove so instructive and 
 so beneficial. 
 
 1. It is now peculiarly proper to tliink, how in- 
 supportably dreadful must the agonies of hell be ! 
 If one drop of the divine displeasure, or one stroke 
 which he inflicts in love to liis child, be sufficient 
 to throw us into so much distress, what must it be 
 to fall into the hands of God, as an irreconcilable 
 enemy, and to stand the shock of that horrible 
 tempest which he shall pour out upon the finally 
 impenitent ! If it be so difiicult to bear the disorder 
 of one single limb, where other circumstances around 
 us are just as we could wish them, and the tender- 
 est friends are doing their utmost to ease and de- 
 light us under our sorrows, what must it be to dwell 
 for ever in that region of horror, where every mem- 
 hcr of the body, and every faculty of the soul, shall 
 be the seat of torment, and every surrounding per- 
 ,son and circumstance conspire to aggravate and 
 inflame it? " Fiy, O my soul ! from so dreadful a 
 condemnation ; abhor the thought of any ti)ing 
 which would expose thee to it ; and adore the 
 riches of redeeming love, by which thou art deliver- 
 ed from going down to the pit." 
 
 2. Another very proper reflection in our painful 
 heurs may be, how rich was the love of Jesus Christ, 
 ivho would hear so much pain for our salvation ! 
 
 " Do I find it (you will say) so difficult a matter 
 to bear up under my present anguish, though only 
 one member of my body suffers, what then did my 
 Saviour feel, wlicn he was expiring under the agonies 
 of the cross ! What was it to have the tendcrcst parts 
 of his body pierced with thorns and with nails, and 
 
 to be stretched out upon the cross, as on a rack, 
 till almost every joint was out of its place; (which 
 you know. Madam, was the common pain of cruci- 
 fixion ;) besides all that more intolerable torment 
 which lie bore from the immediate hand of his 
 Father, which threw him into a bloody sweat, when 
 no hunmn agony was near him ! Little, O my 
 Kedeemer ! little can I conjecture of the bitterness 
 of thine agonies, from the pain I now feel ; but since 
 that which I now feel is so acute and so grievous, 
 let me take a few moments from my sorrows and 
 my groans to admire and celebrate thy inconceivable 
 love, which bore the sorrow which was infinitely 
 more dreadful." 
 
 3. When we feel ourselves in pain, it is peculiarly 
 proper to reflect on the great mercy of God in having 
 formerly given us so much ease. 
 
 " How many have been continued in life while 
 surrounded with innumerable calamities and acci- 
 dents, which might not only have been painful, but 
 mortal, to me ; and in all this year how many days, 
 how many weeks, have there been in which I have 
 enjoyed uninterrupted ease ; or rather, how few 
 hours and moments have there been in which I have 
 felt even the slightest pain ! If God has changed 
 the dispensation of his providence towards me, I 
 feel the value of that mercy I was so insensible of. 
 Let me now praise him for what I formerly enjoyed, 
 but undervalued ; since it might probably be the 
 design of this present aflliction to rebuke my former 
 insensibility, and recover that tribute of praise 
 which I had neglected immediately to pay." 
 
 4. When we feci pain taking hold of us, we may 
 reflect how much reason we have to pity the pains and 
 the sorrows of others. 
 
 " I have too often been forgetful of them when 
 absent, and have been too negligent in praying for 
 them, though perhaps their ease has been attended 
 with lamentable circumstances. Now I know, by 
 my own experience, a part of what they feel, and 
 perhaps no more than a part. Let me, after the 
 example of my Redeemer, learn by my own sufler- 
 ings, to sympathize with my brethren in theirs; 
 and let me impart such com.passion to them as I 
 would now desire from those that are around me." 
 
 5. When we are under pain of body, it is proper 
 to reflect, how vain is every thing in this world, and 
 how infinitely preferable an interest in the divine 
 favour. 
 
 One such day as many of those have been which 
 you have lately passed, may serve instead of a thou- 
 sand rational arguments to convince you of this. 
 How has the accident of a minute impaired your 
 relish for those entertainments which before were 
 exceedingly agreeable to you ! Those things, in 
 which the greater part of mankind place their su- 
 preme hapi)iness, are little or nothing in these 
 aflliclive moments. The delicacy of food, the orna- 
 
 I 
 
LETTER VII. 
 
 1191 
 
 merits of dress, nay, even the conversation of friends, 
 are not now what you tliouglit them a few days ago, 
 but you find, Madam, tliat your God is still the same ; 
 and the thoughts of your interest in him grows more 
 and more delightful, in proportion to that degree in 
 which the charms of created objects fade and dis- 
 appear. Yet, when your health and strength arc 
 completely restored, as I pray they may speedily 
 be, created vanity may grow charming again, and 
 tempt your heart to a forgetfulness of God. But 
 then I hope. Madam, you will recollect the view in 
 which they appeared in the days of weakness and 
 of pain ; and the more carefully you attend to that 
 view now, the more likely will you be to recollect it 
 with advantage. 
 
 6. In your present affliction, it is peculiarly proper 
 to think of that lieavcnhj u orld, which is, as I verily 
 believe, the great object of your hope, and through 
 grace, your eternal inheritance. 
 
 All the storms and tempests of life should force 
 us into that blessed harbour. And I am persuaded 
 our views of heaven would be more affecting, if we 
 were to consider it as a place, where we shall be 
 free, not only from all trouble in general, but from 
 that particular trouble which at present lies heavy 
 upon us, and therefore is apprehended in all its 
 aggravations. It is proper under such an affliction 
 as this, to reflect on the New Jerusalem : there 
 shall be no more pain. " O my soul ! dwell upon 
 the thought, and in that view breathe after it, and 
 rejoice in the expectation of it." 
 
 If these thoughts, Madam, which appear so proper 
 in your present circumstances, be seriously attended 
 to and pursued, you will soon see the advantage of 
 them. Your heart, which is already so pious and 
 excellent, will come like gold out of a furnace of 
 fire, purified seven times ; and upon the whole, you 
 will reap such happy fruits, both for time and eter- 
 nity, from these sad calamitous events, that you will 
 no longer have room to question, whether it be the 
 proper object of praise. 
 
 I am surprised to see, that before I was aware, 
 my letter is swelled into a sermon. But I find. 
 Madam, in this as in other instances, that it is easy 
 to speak out of the abundance of the heart ; which 
 I am sure I always do, when I give vent to any sen- 
 timents of friendship towards you. There is a plain- 
 ness and freedom in what I have written, which to 
 some other persons I might think it necessary to 
 excuse, but I will not make any apology to you, for 
 I am sure you have so much good sense as to see, 
 and so much candour as to believe, that this freedom 
 proceeds only from that inexpressible respect and 
 tenderness with which I am, 
 
 Dear Madam, 
 Your most affcclionatc, 
 
 and most humble servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER VII.* 
 
 To a Young Lady, preparing for a voyage to the 
 Indies. 
 
 Northampton, Feb. 14, 1729-30. 
 
 M.^DAM, 
 
 Though I have not the happiness of a personal 
 acquaintance with you, your good mother informed 
 me at large of your character and circumstances ; 
 and it is by her desire that I use a freedom in ad- 
 dressing you which would not otherwise be pardon- 
 able in one who is a stranger. You will easily 
 imagine that your concerns lie with a very great 
 weight upon her mind. She is tenderly solicitous, 
 that whithersoever 50U go the gracious presence of 
 a heavenly Parent, and a pious sense of duty to 
 him, may always accompany you. And as she 
 knows you must resign some of those religious ad- 
 vantages, which you have long enjoyed, she has 
 been urgent with me to put something into your 
 hand which may be reviewed whenever you please, 
 and which by the divine blessing may be useful to 
 you, as being peculiarly suited to your present cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 On my part, Madam, I undertake the task with a 
 great deal of cheerfulness ; not only to oblige her, 
 who is my valuable friend, but with some encou- 
 raging hopes that it may be serviceable to you. And 
 I will freely own, that I enter into the case with 
 something of a peculiar tenderness, as it relates to 
 a lady in the bloom of life, of an agreeable person, 
 and a promising character. I have had a great 
 many anxious thoughts about you since your 
 mother and I talked of you, which wc have fre- 
 quently done ; so that you and your afl'airs are 
 grown very familiar to my mind, and I begin to 
 enter into them with something of the affection of a 
 brother. 
 
 I hope this concern may suflicicntly justify a 
 plainness, which in such a case becomes almost 
 unavoidable ; and I persuade myself. Madam, that 
 when you consider it as proceeding from such a 
 principle, you will not be offended ; though I tell 
 you that I almost tremble to think of the variety of 
 dangers to which you are going to be exposed. I 
 am young myself, yet I have already learnt by too 
 fre(|uent experitncc, that in the morning of life wc 
 naturally delude ourselves with pleasing dreams ; 
 we fix our eyes on what is most delightful in a dis- 
 tant prospect, but either entirely overlook what is 
 dangerous and threatening, or at most bestow but 
 a transient glance upon it. You think, no doubt, 
 w'ith a great deal of pleasure, of seeing a variety of 
 new objects in a fine country, vastly dilfcrent froni 
 our own ; especially in meeting a brother whom 
 
 ♦ From tlio autlior's sliorl liaiul copy. 
 
1193 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 you liavc never yet seen,* but who has expressed 
 tlie teiiderest regard for you at so remote a dis- 
 tauee. You arc eliarnied with tlic prospeet of 
 meeting him in a place w here he knows not any 
 superior, of sharing with him in his plenty and 
 magniliience, and being treated by all about you 
 witii the respeet due to a Governor's sister. I own 
 there is something very splendid and striking in 
 sueli a view, and 1 heartily congratulate you upon 
 it. IJiit let me entreat you. Madam, to consider 
 how possible it is, that you may never reach the 
 country which is to be the scene of so many enter- 
 tainments. There are unknown hazards in the 
 voyage to the Indies ; and it is possible that before 
 you have despatched half of it, some unexpected 
 event may happen to put a period to these hopes 
 
 and to your life. Or, if you reached it is 
 
 certain that dangers will attend you there, and 
 dangers which will be so much the greater, as you 
 are the less sensible of them. I know that many of 
 our foreign Governors live in a kind of princely 
 grandeur and magnificence, so that you really need 
 almost as much wisdom and goodness as if you 
 •were going to Court. You w ill see a great deal of 
 vanity and pomp, and no doubt a great deal of 
 luxury too, if not in the Governor himself, of whom 
 I hear a very respectable character, yet at least in 
 some of his retinue. You will hear a great deal of 
 flattery, the shame of our sex, and the ruin of yours, 
 and the dangers which conceal the sharpest and 
 the most fatal stings, are those which will accost 
 you with the softest airs and the most smiling coun- 
 tenance. On the other hand. Madam, it is very 
 uncertain what advantages of a religious nature 
 you will enjoy, to counterbalance these insnaring 
 circumstances. Yet I think I may venture to say, 
 that whithersoever you go, were it in your own 
 country, and much more in a foreign land, it is at 
 least a thousand to one, that you exchange for the 
 worse when you quit the ministry of Mr. Jennings, 
 with w hose excellent character I am well acquaint- 
 ed, and in whose pulpit you have probably seen me, 
 if you have seen me at all. 
 
 A\'hen I consider these things, I am very solicitous 
 with regard to the end of them ; and will plainly 
 confess, I cannot but think there is a great deal of 
 reason to fear lest this lovely flower which is now 
 opening with so much beauty and fragrancy, should 
 be blasted by too warm a sun, ar.d wither in that 
 luxurious soil to which it will be transplanted. Or, 
 in plainer terms, I fear, what God forbid, tliat the 
 impression of a religious education will wear oil' 
 from your n)ind, and the vain allurements of an 
 insnaring world will possess themselves of your 
 heart, till by insensible degrees your virtue may be 
 endangered and your soul ruined. I say not these 
 
 • Probably, lie went to India Ijefore the young Lady was born, or 
 during her infiiRcy. 
 
 things. Madam, to dissuade you from the voyage; 
 no, it is not in my power to do it, and if it were, I 
 should not by any means attempt it. But I repre- 
 sent the case in all its dangerous circumstances, so 
 far as I apprehend them, that you may be awakened 
 to <» proper care in providing against them. And 
 here it is evident, that your only security is in the 
 protection and friendship of that God, who has all 
 the seasons and elements under his command, and 
 who, by his secret, but powerful, inlluenee on the 
 mind, can preserve it in the midst of temptation, 
 and brighten it by all its trials. 
 
 And therefore my first advice is, that before you 
 begin this important and doubtful voyage, you set 
 yourself repeatedly to examine into the state of your 
 soul, with regard to God and eternity. It would be 
 doing you a great deal of wrong, to suppose you are 
 ignorant of the state in which the gospel found us, 
 and of that into which it is intended to bring us. 
 You know the original claim of God upon us, and 
 how far the most innocent and virtuous of us hath 
 been from answering it exactly in all its extent. 
 You know something of the fatal consequences 
 which would have attended that revolt, had God 
 treated us with rigorous severity ; though none 
 knows them in their full terror. You are acquainted 
 with the gracious method he has taken of recovering 
 us by a Redeemer from the ruin of the apostasy, 
 and the way in which the invaluable blessings of 
 the everlasting covenant are now offered to, our 
 acceptance. Let it be your immediate and diligent 
 inquiry, whether you have fallen in with this 
 merciful proposal, and have resolutely and en- 
 tirely devoted yourself to God, with an humble 
 dependence on the merits of his Son for your 
 acceptance, and the assistance of his Spirit to form 
 you to a holy temper, and animate you to the zeal- 
 ous discharge of all the duties he requires of you. 
 If you have not yet entered yourself into this cove- 
 nant, or are dubious whether you have done it or 
 no, let it be your immediate care now to do it with 
 the most serious consideration and entire consent, 
 as knowing it to be absolutely necessary for your 
 security and happiness in the safest and most cheer- 
 ing eircunistauces of life, and much more in such 
 as I have now described. If you have the testimony 
 of your conscience on the favourable side, as I 
 would hope you have, permit me humbly to advise 
 you, if you have^a convenient opportunity, to con- 
 firm it in the most solemn manner at the table of 
 the Lord. There commit your life and your hopes 
 to his providential care. Open your heart to the 
 influences of his grace ; and [lublicly avow a deter- 
 minate resolution that you will be the Lord's ; that 
 you will be constantly and eternally his; and that, 
 in the strength of his Spirit, neither life nor death 
 shall separate you from hini. 
 
 When once this is done, you are happily armed 
 
LETTER VIT. 
 
 1193 
 
 against all the uncertainties of life, and the pros- 
 pects of death in whatever form it may appear. 
 Your soul may be calm in the midst of the tempest ; 
 when thunders roll, and lightnings dart from above, 
 and ihe waves are foaming and the seas roaring 
 around you, when the hearts of the most experienced 
 mariner and the most courageous commander are 
 dismayed, you. Madam, with all the tenderness of 
 your age and sex, may sit down with a sweet tran- 
 quillity, as the charge and favourite of him, who 
 has universal nature under his control ; you may 
 say, in tlie triumphant words of the Psalmist, " God 
 is my refuge and my strength, a very present help 
 in every time of trouble. Therefore will I not fear 
 in the midst of confusion ; though the sea roar and 
 be troubled, so that the mountains shake with tlie 
 swelling thereof: the Lord of hosts is with us, the 
 God of Jacob is my refuge." Or, should the dread- 
 ful moment of shipwreck come, while ungodly 
 wretches are meeting the first death with unknown 
 agony, as apprehending that it will transmit them 
 to all the terrors of the second, you may smile w ith 
 a holy transport, when you see the rays of heavenly 
 glory shooting through the gloomy passage ; and, 
 as Mr. Howe beautifully expresses it, may " em- 
 brace tliat friendly wave which, while you intended 
 
 , should land you in heaven." On the other 
 
 hand, should Providence, according to my most 
 aHectionate wislies and repeated prayers, conduct 
 you in safety to your intended harbour, on this 
 supposition of your early and sincere devotedness 
 to God, you will be secure in the midst of tempta- 
 tion ; not indeed in the strength of your own virtue, 
 but in the watchful care of that good Shepherd, 
 who tenderly carries the lambs of the liock in his 
 bosom : every thing splendid and pleasing which 
 
 you will meet witii at , instead of alienating 
 
 your heart from God, may be a means of raising it 
 to him. All the advantages of your circumstances 
 may be improved to the noblest purposes, and you 
 may appear in that conspicuous station, as raised 
 by Providence to display the charms of your cha- 
 racter, and to recommend religion to others; as it 
 never appears in a more amiable light than when 
 practised by those who are entering on life, and 
 arc surrounded with the allurements of plenty and 
 greatness. 
 
 And this, Madam, is what I would have you pro- 
 pose to yourself. It will indeed be happy for you, 
 and for your dearest friends, if you continue safe in 
 the midst of so many dangers. But nictliinks you 
 oiiglit not to rest here. I hope God will inspire you 
 with a glorious ambition of adorning your profession 
 by the lustre of uncommon virtue, and being emi- 
 nently honourable and useful in life. For your 
 assistance in this noble attempt, 1 will presume so 
 far on your patience as to oiler you some more par- 
 ticular advices, submitting them to your deliberate 
 
 rellection, that you may judge how far they are 
 necessary or important. 
 
 As God is the support of the whole world of his 
 creatures, so 1 believe all, who are experimentally 
 acquainted with religion, will readily allow, that 
 proper and constant regards to God arc the support 
 of all the other branches of it. I would therefore, 
 Madam, exhort you to the most diligent care in 
 maintaining those regards. Let no day pass with- 
 out some humble and affectionate visits to the 
 throne of grace. Rejoice to think, that whitherso- 
 ever you go, you are still in a province of that uni- 
 versal empire over which he presides ; and as he is 
 capable of being your best friend, remember, I 
 entreat you, that neither duty nor prudence will 
 permit you to neglect him. Let secret prayer and 
 reading the Scriptures always be attended to with 
 great diligence ; and fix it as a maxim in your 
 mind, that however the outward form may be gone 
 through, these duties are in effect neglected, if they 
 are not seriously and heartily performed. 
 
 Thankfully improve all those public advantages, 
 which, when you arrive at the Factory, you may en- 
 joy for the good of your soul. I would be much 
 concerned, that you may not go abroad with an en- 
 tire contempt of all religious opportunities which 
 are not just such as you could wisli. Tiiough a 
 form be probably less suited to your taste as well as 
 mine, than the prayers we have been accustomed to, 
 yet divine influences may make it very refreshing. 
 I doubt not, but many pious souls in the established 
 church, have daily converses with God inthcolKces 
 of it (and I heartily rejoice in the thought). And 
 as for the doctrines of it, you will not find much to 
 complain of. The main doubt is, how these things 
 will be handled. I hope Providence will so order 
 it, tliat you may have the assistance of a clergy- 
 man, who will not only be careful to speak the 
 words of truth and soberness, but will throughout 
 the whole of his ministration and conversation be 
 animated by a deep and lively sense of religion, an 
 ardent zeal for the honour of God, and a tender 
 concern for the salvation of souls. But if it should 
 hap[)en otherwise, endeavour to make the best of 
 what you hear, and carry a few good books with 
 you, whi(;li by the blessing of God, may in part 
 make up for the want of more suitable public as- 
 sistances. You may then have an opportunity of 
 hearing, as it were, some of the best of our preach- 
 ers almost every day, and may be secure of meeting 
 with some of the most valuable of their discourses. 
 I would on this occasion recommend to you the 
 three volumes of Dr. Watts's Scrmoiiii, his Di.icoitrses 
 on the Lave of' (rod, his Ili/nais, Pxii/iiis, and Lyric 
 Poems, Dr. Eiyans's Clivisliun Temper, in two 
 volumes, and his Sermons to Youiiy People, Sten- 
 nett's Heasonablcness of early Piety, and I had 
 almost said, above all the rest, Dr. Wrif/ht's Treatise 
 
1194 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 on ltc(]euerati<)n , atul of (he Dcceilfuhiess of Shi. I 
 sec not w ell liow aiiy of tliose can be spared ; and 1 
 shall desire you to accept of tlie two last, bound to- 
 gether, as a small testituony of my sincere friend- 
 ship. Above all, Madam, I would most earnestly 
 entreat you to make the Scriptures very familiar 
 to you. It is by these that the young mai/ cleanse 
 their u-tiy, and in the morning; of life be formed upon 
 maxims of the truest and the most important wis- 
 dom. Daviii's Psalms, Solomon's Proi'erlts, and 
 Erchsiastcs, and the whole New Testament, are the 
 parts of Scripture which I would especially recom- 
 mend ; and would entreat you to read them, not in 
 a hasty and cursory manner, but with deep reflec- 
 tion, and earnest prayer to God for the assistance of 
 his Spirit in the study of them ; and on such a 
 perusal, I am confident, you will find a spirit, a 
 beauty, and a glory in them beyond what the 
 generality of the world apprehend. This guide 
 alone is incomparably preferable to all the books 
 and the friends upon earth without it. Follow it 
 steadily, and it will lead you to heaven. 
 
 As to your behaviour to your fellow-creatures, the 
 directions of Scripture will be highly 'serviceable. 
 In the most important article, your great care. 
 Madam, must be to accommodate the general pre- 
 cepts of it to your own particular circumstances of 
 life, and you must beg that God would give you 
 wisdom to do it. 
 
 You cannot but know, that a young lady is ex- 
 posed to a variety of temptations peculiar to her 
 age and sex, especially in the company of gentle- 
 men, whose professions and conditions of life may 
 not incline them to the greatest decency and sobriety 
 of behaviour; and it will require great prudence on 
 your part to manage well here. I would not injure 
 so fair a character by insinuating the most distant 
 caution against any thing that is infamously bad. 
 Your principal difficulty will be in keeping your- 
 self free from those importunities which are on 
 many accounts inconvenient, though rejected with 
 the greatest resolution and resentment. And here, 
 Madam, I would by no means advise you to put on 
 an air of severity in the conversation of men, as if 
 you were apprehensive of some criminal design in 
 all they said or did. Such a behaviour is so far 
 from being ornamental, that I will frankly confess, 
 it appears to me not only groundless and ridiculous, 
 but supercilious too. Yet there is, if one knew how 
 to describe if, a kind of reserve mixed Mith the 
 most cheerful freedom ; that gaiety which strikes 
 an awe on the licentious beholder, and inspires a 
 reverence even for the most gentle charmer. It 
 •would make a man blush at the secret consciousness 
 of the least irregular thought with regard to so ex- 
 cellent, I had almost said so sacred, a creature. I 
 am afraid. Madam, the delicacy of my subject has 
 made me a little obscure ; but I fancy on reflection, 
 
 you will find something of a meaning in it : and I 
 imagine it to be much the same with that, which is 
 much better expressed in the following epigram, 
 which may probably be the more agreeable to you, 
 as it is to me, for being the production of a lady 
 about your own age. I had it from a person of 
 quality, and am told that copies a<c but in few 
 hands. 
 
 Vliile tliirstof prnisp, anJ fond desire ol fame, 
 III every age is every woman's aim ; 
 ^Vitll ciiiirlslii|> pleased, of silly torture proud, 
 Fond of a train, and happy in a crowd ; 
 "While vain coqnets atTcct to be pursued, 
 And think they 're honest if not grossly lewd ; 
 On every fool bestowing some kind glance, 
 Each confjuest owing t(^ some loose advance : 
 Let this sage maxim be my virtue's guide, 
 In part to blame she is who has been tried ; 
 He conies too near, who comes to be deuied. 
 
 It would be a very easy matter to insist copiously 
 on these hints, and to add many others which would 
 not be foreign to the case before us. But my letter 
 is grown already to a very uncommon size ; and I 
 fear, that if I should go on to enlarge it, the review 
 will be a burthcnsome task. What is still omitted, 
 if I judge right of your character, your own good 
 sense will in a great measure supply, under the 
 directions of God's word, and the influences of his 
 Spirit. A nd let me only entreat you, often to reflect 
 on your conduct, and consider your ways ; for I am 
 confident, that the generality of mankind who are 
 undone for time and eternity, perish, not so much 
 for want of knowing what is right, as through a 
 failure of resolution in the pursuit of it, which is 
 very much owing to the neglect of thought and re- 
 flection. 
 
 I add nothing further but my hearty prayer, 
 which I shall frequently repeat, that a watchful 
 Providence may continually surround you, and 
 give the winds and the seas a charge concerning 
 you ; that the influences of his grace may secure 
 you from all the temptations with which God is 
 calling you to encounter; and may make of you a 
 lovely example of all the virtues and graces of 
 Christianity ; that after a safe, honourable, and 
 prosperous visit to the Indies, you may be restored 
 to your native land in peace, with a rich increase 
 both of temporal and spiritual blessings ; so that, 
 upon the whole, your present and future happiness 
 may exceed all that we can particularly wish or 
 pray for upon your account. 
 
 I am, dear Madam, 
 Your alfcdionate friend, 
 
 and obedient humble servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 P. S. If Providence continue my life till your 
 return, it will be a very great pleasure to me to see 
 you either here or at London, and to join with you 
 in returning thanks for those divine favours to 
 
LETTER VII r. 
 
 1I9S 
 
 wliich 1 have been so frequently recommending you 
 in the sincerity of my heart. 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 To a Young Gentleman, on his recovery from a dan- 
 gerous illness. 
 
 1740. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Though I have not the pleasure of a personal 
 acquaintance with you, I think it not improbable 
 that you may have learned my name from your 
 excellent parents, who honour me with their friend- 
 ship in a degree far beyond what I could ever 
 pretend to have deserved. They early informed mc 
 of your illness, and recommended you to my earnest 
 and affectionate prayers: which I will assure you, 
 dear Sir, you have had, and shall continue to have, 
 a share in them. God has been gracious to us, and 
 heard our prayers. He has brought you back from 
 the borders of the grave, when you had received the 
 sentence of death in yourself. And now, niy dear 
 friend, for so methinks I have a kind of hereditary 
 riglit to call you, give me leave seriously to remind 
 you of the goodness of God in this respect, and to call 
 upon you in his name to a proper improvement of 
 it, I doubt not, but in the intervals of your disor- 
 der, you had some solemn thoughts of deatli and 
 eternity. I doubt not but you cried to God, and 
 formed some purposes for his service. But I know 
 how ready our treacherous hearts are to forget such 
 deliverances, and to forget those vows of God tliat 
 are upon us; and therefore let me, with all sim- 
 plicity and plainness, though at the same time with 
 the sincerest respect, renew the admonition as in 
 the name of my great Lord and Ma.ster, who, I 
 would hope, means you graciously in inclining me 
 to write to you upon this occasion. I would beseech 
 you seriously to examine your heart and ways, and 
 to ask yourself before God, " What if the fever had 
 finisiied its work, and brought me down to the dust 
 of death, and my spirit had returned to God who 
 gave it, how would it have been receivcfl by him .'" 
 You are descended from the most gracious pair 
 that I think I ever knew. But they cannot convey 
 grace to you. Even from them, excellent as they 
 are, you derive a corrupt nature. Ask your own 
 heart then, " Have I ever been earnest with God 
 for renewing grace ? Have I ever pleaded with him 
 in prayer, that I might experience tiiat change 
 which the gospel re(|uires, without which no man 
 can enter the kingdom of heaven?" These are 
 matters of infinite importance, which must lie at 
 the root of all our hopes of heaven, or those hopes 
 will prove like a spider's web. I beseech you, 
 
 therefore, dear Sir, in the name of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and by all your prospects in the eternal 
 world, that you take these things under an attentive 
 consideration. I hope you have thought of them. 
 I would fain persuade myself to believe you are 
 experimentally acquainted with them. But I would 
 court you to apply your heart to them more and 
 more. I know. Sir, that in your circumstances of 
 life innumerable temptations will surround you ; 
 and it is a good thing in order to be fortified 
 against them all, that the heart be established with 
 grace. You have all the encouragement you can 
 desire to attempt the work of serious religion, and 
 that betimes ; for it must be done immediately, or 
 perhaps it may not be done at all, probably it will 
 not. You have a gracious God to go to, who is not 
 willing that any should perish, but that all should 
 come to repentance. You have a most compas- 
 sionate Redeemer, who shed his blood for the sal- 
 vation of perishing sinners ; and I humbly hope 
 for your salvation. The Spirit of God has con- 
 quered hearts much harder than yours can be, even 
 supposing you are now in an unrenewed state. 
 You are the seed of God's servants : you were early 
 devoted to God in baptism : you have a large stock 
 of prayers laid up in the presence of God for you. 
 I do really apprehend, even the covenant of God 
 with believing parents bears a favourable aspect 
 upon tiieir children : And though I dare not say, nor 
 think, that it secures their salvation ; for I fear 
 fact lies strongly against such a presumption, as we 
 are sure it did even in the children of Abraham, 
 yet there is some peculiar encouragement for such 
 to seek the God of their fathers. I believe the 
 Spirit strives peculiarly with tliein ; and tliat when 
 tliey seek it, it is more immediately and more fully 
 communicated to them than generally to otliers. 
 And sure I am, that those early instructions tiiey 
 have received, have often a blessed resurrection in 
 their hearts, even after they have been long for- 
 gotten ; and the seed, which seemed to have perished, 
 often brings forth fruit in abundance. And there- 
 fore, dear Sir, thank God and take courage. In 
 his name and strength, set out in your heavenly 
 pilgrimage, with the word of God in your hand and 
 heart, and witli your eyes to the Spirit of God, as 
 your guide and strength : and be assured, there arc 
 many who will bid you good speed in the name of 
 the Lord, and will rejoice to assist you in your 
 course. I am not without hope, that our gracious 
 God may at length favour mc with more immediate 
 and renewed opi)ortunities of serving you.* In the 
 mean time be assured, that I most cordially love 
 you, though personally unknown. Be assured, my 
 heart overflows witli a true concern for your wel- 
 fare ; that I pour out my soul before God in prayer 
 on your account; and that to hear of your health 
 
 • Ho afttrwards became the Doctor's pupil. 
 
1196 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 and happiness, and, above all, that your soul pros- 
 pers, will yield me iinufterable delight ; lor 1 am 
 not merely in form, but with the utmost sincerity 
 and tenderness of heart, 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your most faithful and affectionate friend, 
 and humble servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER IX.* 
 
 Nortlwmplon, Dec. 8, 1712 
 
 Deak Si r J 
 
 Permit me frankly to speak my mind to you on a 
 head, on which I fear to be silent, lest I should fail 
 in a branch of duty and gratitude to a gentleman to 
 whom I think myself obliged, and whom I would 
 gladly serve to the best of my little ability. Be not 
 angry, when I tell you, I was heartily grieved at the 
 liberties you took last night, in using the venerable 
 name of the ever blessed God in so light a manner; 
 and in the needless appeals which you made to him, 
 as to things which would have been believed on 
 
 much less evidence than the word of Sir J . I 
 
 have not heard so much of that kind of language, 
 except when passing by people of low education 
 in the streets, for some years ; whether it be owing 
 to the complaisance with which gentlemen com- 
 monly treat our profession, or, as I rather hope, 
 to a sense of what is in itself reasonable and 
 decent. 
 
 I am sure. Sir, that your knowledge of men and 
 things is capable of making conversation pleasant 
 and improving, and of filling up your full share in 
 it without these dreadful expletives ; for dreadful I 
 must call them, when considered in a view to that 
 strict account, which must so certainly and so 
 quickly be rendered up to God for all our words ns 
 well as our actions. I was the more solicitous. Sir, 
 to mention the affair to you in consideration of your 
 ofiRce as a magistrate ; the dignity of which must 
 certainly be most effectually supported by avoiding 
 whatever it might require you to punish in others. 
 In this view. Sir, permit me to entreat you to join 
 your efi'orts with those of all other wise and good 
 men to discountenanoe, and, if possible, to drive 
 out of the world, tiiis unprofitable enormity of swear- 
 ing in common conversation ; concerning the evil 
 of which, I am sure it is not necessary to enlarge, 
 when addressing myself to a gentleman of your good 
 understanding. 
 
 * He hail resolution to reprove in a senile, but effuetUiil, nianiirr, 
 profane or licentious words spoken by ])crsons of rank and fortiim-, and 
 had the happy art of complimentin'^ tlicm upon some (jood <|iiality they 
 jiosscssed, while he reproved their irre(;ularilies ; and by thi» means 
 prevented thoir showing any resentment. Life, p. 190. 
 
 I conclude. Sir, with my most affeclioiiafc good 
 wishes and prayers for you, that the whole of your 
 conduct in every circumstance of life, may be such 
 as will yield the most pleasing reflections in the 
 awful hour of death, and the most comfortable ac- 
 count before the divine tribunal to which we arc 
 hastening ; and in the serious views of which, I have 
 presumed to give you this trouble, hoping you will 
 esteem it, as it undoubtedly is, a proof, that I am 
 with great sincerity. 
 
 Honoured Sir, 
 Your most faithful 
 
 and obedient humble servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE.t 
 
 LETTER X.t 
 
 Northampton, October 13, 1718. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 Yoi'R letters, wise and good and kind as they were 
 cordial indeed, and felt as much, had perhaps re- 
 mained some weeks longer unanswered, if another 
 had not reached me by the last post, on such an 
 occasion as would admit of no delay ; but which, 
 tenderly as you have adjusted the matter, necessa- 
 rily upbraids my former silence, and makes me 
 quite ashamed of it. Yet sure I am, you would pity 
 me, if you knew what I am necessitated to write. 
 Indeed I spend so much time with my pen in my 
 hand, that I am astonished at my own health, which 
 was never better, excepting a pain in my right 
 liand, which grasping tiie pen so much has occasion- 
 ed, and by which I sometimes fear lest any tendon 
 be strained, or perhaps contracted : yet, I thank 
 God, it seldom affects any motion but that which 
 seems to have produced it. Only, my good friend, 
 remember this when I seem ungrateful to so much 
 goodness as yours ; which I really think, frequent 
 and constant as my addresses to the throne of grace 
 for you are, and tenderly as my heart interests itself 
 in all the concerns of your health, usefulness, and 
 comfort, I do not, and cannot, by any means, suit- 
 ably repay. 
 
 Now I have begun I could write to you all day, 
 and fill a great many sheets, were I to indulge my 
 own inclinations ; but as I know I have but a few 
 minutes to write in, I must use them to the most 
 material purpose that I can. But I cannot come to 
 the important and affecting occasion and subject of 
 
 + .\ftcr having: wrillen this letter, the Doctor made llie following re- 
 mark : — "I tlK)n;;lit it more rcsperl fill to write to Sir .1 on this 
 
 occasion, than to spi ak to liim before the company ; but it is a law J lay 
 down to myself to do tlie one or the oilier, lest I should seem too iii- 
 difl'erent to' the honour of God, and the good of my friends, and the 
 woilil about Ihcm." 
 
 } To the Rev, Mr. Wood of Norwich. 
 
LETTER XI- 
 
 im 
 
 your last, till I have congratukited you and your 
 good lady on your recovery, and the re-establish- 
 ment of yonr health to such a degree ; in which I 
 adore that God, who hears prayers, for his com- 
 passion to me and to his church. Tenderly did I 
 wait every circumstance of information, during the 
 time of your dangerous illness; and one way or 
 another, so kindly did Providence order it, I had 
 more frequent intelligence relating to you, than I 
 ever had in double that time before or since. I doubt 
 not but your resolutions for the service of God, 
 your Deliverer and your Saviour, are renewed; and 
 I rejoice in the support he gave you, and the mercy 
 he has wrought out for you, methinks, as if my life 
 and soul were in the place of j ours. 
 
 But I will now, lest I leave not myself room to 
 do it, condole with you and your friends at Wood- 
 bridge, on the death of that excellent and worthy 
 servant of Christ, your uncle. Mr. Barker Iiad in- 
 formed me of the allccting providence by Mr. Ash- 
 worth, from whom I received the news of it near a 
 week ago, and had desired me to advise the people 
 to a suitable minister if I could. Truly, I think 
 Mr. K — a very suitable one, if they have no ob- 
 jection to a Baxterian Calvinist, (which, by the 
 way, I think a very proper expression,) and I be- 
 lieve, they would find the good cflects of his excel- 
 lent gifts, for they arc distinguished ; and that the 
 seriousness and sweetness of his temper, and pru- 
 dence of his conduct, would make them very happy. 
 I must profess to you, that I find it extremely diffi- 
 cult to direct vacant churches, in the moderately 
 and Calvinistical way, (as most that apply to me 
 are,) to suitable ministers. And I have hardly ever 
 known the time when it was more difficult. I have 
 no pupil to send out till Midsummer, and then 
 hope, if God spare our lives, to furnish tlie churches 
 with several excellent person.s. The most probable 
 means I can think of to direct you which way to 
 look, in subordination to that upward prospect 
 which I know you, dear Sir, have your eyes ever 
 npon, is to mention two or three pious, sensible, 
 and in the main, popular men, whom narrow cir- 
 cumstances force from their present situation, and 
 to leave you to correspond with any of them as you 
 may tliink fit for either of the places in question. 
 The first of these I think you know, Mr. Wilkinson, 
 now at Deal, if a wife and three children, with 
 little but a place to depend upon, be no objection. 
 He is an admirable preacher, and a most lovely 
 man. My neighbour, Mr. Gainsborough, of Ncw- 
 port-Pagncl, will leave his people ; he is a worthy 
 man, but low-spirited, and seems to have some ob- 
 jections against Sullolk ; but whether equally 
 against all parts of it, I know not. Mr. Afllcck, 
 whom I formerly mentioned, is very much esteemed 
 in Holland, where he is now supplying, during 
 good Mr. Longueville's absence ; and he is cer- 
 
 tainly, both in prayer and preaching, in my judg- 
 ment, uncommonly excellent ; and his temper and 
 character remarkably good. But, as I formerly 
 told you, he is a Scotchman ; though really in his 
 pronunciation much mended. He is a Calvinist, 
 but of great moderation, exemplary humility, zeal, 
 and activity for the glory of Christ and salvation of 
 souls. This is all the information I can give you 
 that I think material, and I leave you to advise our 
 friends at Woodbridge and Wrentham as you judge 
 most convenient. 
 
 Let me now conclude with our united and most 
 affectionate services to yourself and lady, not for- 
 getting my other friends at Norwich and in your 
 former neighbourhood. I must not, by any means, 
 omit to beg your prayers for Mrs. Doddridge, who 
 expects to be confined in a short time. You know 
 what a good wife is, and she is one of the best, and 
 rises in value every year. I am, 
 
 Your afleetionate friend and brother, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 P. S. Fain would I, if possible, end my Family 
 Expositor ; with the third volume of which I re- 
 joice, if you and my other friends are pleased. 
 Truly I spared no pains to make it worthy their 
 acceptance. I continue daily going on with the 
 remaining books of the New Testament, and am 
 now in Jude ; so that I hope to end the first copy, 
 from which, if I should be removed, the work 
 might be printed, by the end of December : but I 
 have carried the notes no further than Ephesians, 
 being intent on the paraphrase, version, and im- 
 provements, as what to general edification seemed 
 most material. 
 
 LETTER XT. 
 
 Nortliampton, May 2, 1749. 
 
 I TAKE off my pen from a sermon which I am 
 preparing for the press as fast as I can, lest it 
 should be out of season, to write to my dear friend, 
 Mr. Wood, a letter, which must in every respect 
 be unsatisfactory to him and myself, both with 
 regard to its length and (he particulars it will con- 
 tain. I applied to Mr. C in favour of Mr. 
 
 F with all the earnestness any of his friends 
 
 could wish ; but had the mortification to hear by 
 the last post from that gentleman, lhat the place 
 which I was soliciting was disposed of before Mr. 
 
 T died. I beg you would assure good Mr. 
 
 F ,withmymostcordialsalutations,that I should 
 
 have rejoiced in an opportunity of serving his 
 grandson ; and that I am extremely glad to hear 
 he deserves so very good a character from such a 
 
1198 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 person as Mr. Wood, wliosc recommendation weighs 
 Mitli me as much as tliat of any person I could 
 name. 
 
 Much am I troiibled to tell you, that at last, after 
 much lieliberation with myself, I am obliged to 
 determine not to attempt seeing my Norfolk friends 
 this year, though they are justly so peculiarly dear 
 to me. I intended to have come, I longed for the 
 journey, and rejoiced in the prospect, but various 
 important considerations forbid it, and oblige me 
 to defer it one year; but I hope, if God spare our 
 lives, nothing will then prevent it. 1 have lost my 
 assistant. I expect company in the vacation. I 
 have a manuscript of Dr, Watts's, which will re- 
 quire great care to prepare for the press. When I 
 was absent last summer, a Moravian teacher crept 
 in, and has made a sad breach among us, and 
 erected a little congregation, consisting chiefly of 
 those who were members with us, and once among 
 those who seemed most cordially afi'ected towards 
 me, some of them aged and experienced Christians. 
 It is now a crisis among us. God seems bringing 
 in many to supply the place of the seceders. It 
 appears to me that my ministry at home was never 
 more necessary. I am very desirous of finishing 
 my notes on the New Testament, that if I should 
 die quickly, an event which, entire as my health 
 now is, I accustom myself to expect, the world 
 may lose as little as possible. But indeed by me 
 it can (fondly as your friendship magnifies the 
 little creature) lose no great matter at any event. 
 O that I could unbosom a little of my heart to you ! 
 but already am I called to lecture : what shall I 
 say in the broken moment that remains ? That 
 every line you write to me increases my love, and, 
 when you show not how very much you overrate 
 my importance, increases my esteem. I think with 
 horror of the character and case of the poor wretch 
 that is gone, and should rejoice to hear that he 
 died awakened and trembling. Such notions of 
 faith, and of an abrogated conversion, if I may so 
 call it, lost in years of folly and wickedness, seem 
 to me full as mischievous as that of popish indul- 
 gences ; and both spring from the same fountain, 
 and are abetted by the same supporters, I mean the 
 great enemies of our salvation. My wife joins her 
 services to all, for she knows them all by name, 
 and several of them by valuable tokens of friend- 
 ship, indeed I may say all of them. Excuse this 
 sad scrawl, which the dampness of the paper, just 
 sent me in, almost obliterates. Mr. Lincolne may 
 expect to hear from me soon, in the mean time 
 please to tell him, his son goes on and set out well. 
 But oh, the labourers arc very, very few. Fare- 
 well, my dear friend. I am. 
 
 Your ever affectionate friend and brother, 
 
 and greatly obliged humble servant, 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 Noi thainptoD, Feb. 27, 1719-50. 
 
 My di;au Fkiend, 
 Your former letter had so much prepared me to 
 hear of the death of that worthy and useful servant 
 of Ciirist, Mr. Saunders, that your last, which 
 brought me the melancholy news, did not at all sur- 
 prise me ; though it could not but tenderly aflect 
 mc. I have lost a friend who was mindful of me 
 in his prayers ; but God will remember his prayers 
 and yours : and perhaps, I owe the pleasant man- 
 ner in which I am now going on, and the visible 
 blessing which, unworthy as I am, does indeed at- 
 tend me in my congregation and writings, my 
 academy and family, in part to the prayers of those 
 whom death has long since separated from me, as 
 well as of those my dear friends whom a kind 
 Providence continues, and particularly and singu- 
 larly, I am persuaded, to yours. May these petitions 
 which I am so frequently repeating for you be as 
 graciously regarded, as I trust they will, by the 
 God of all mercy ; for though I am less worthy of 
 being heard, you are much more worthy of being 
 remembered. 
 
 I take my part with my dear friend in the plea- 
 sure his humane heart must find in being the mes- 
 senger of agreeable tidings to the distressed, or in 
 seeing the appearances or openings of Providence 
 in their favour, and it will always be a delight to 
 me to be in any degree the instrument of giving 
 him such a satisfaction. I shall not fail to inform 
 Miss Ekins,* when I write, of the manner in which 
 her letter was received by her cousin, and to culti- 
 vate to the utmost of my power every friendly and 
 every generous disposition in her mind. Pray that 
 she may be guarded from the snares which her ten- 
 der age, lively temper, and plentiful fortune may 
 concur to expose her to. 
 
 I fear my zeal to serve your neighbourhood, at 
 your request, has transported me too far. Imme- 
 diately on receiving yours about a month ago, I 
 wrote to engage Mr. Laugher, of Stamford, an in- 
 
 * Tliis excellent lady, dangliter of Thomas Ekins, Es(|. of Cliesler- 
 on-the- Water, in Northamptonshire, was Dr. Doddridge's ward : she 
 afterwards married the Kev. Dr. James Stonhouse ; and died I-)ecembcr 
 lOlh, 1788. The followinj^ inscription on lier monument, erected ir; 
 the Hoi. Wells Chapel, near liristol, written by her friend MiSS Han. 
 NAH More, does but s[)eak her exemplary virtues. 
 
 Come, resignation ! wipe the human tear 
 
 Domestic anguish drops o'er virtue's bier ; 
 
 Bid selfish sorrow hush the fond complaint, 
 
 Nor from the God she loved detain the saint. 
 
 Truth, meekness, patience, honoured shade.' were thine. 
 
 And holy hope, and charity divine : 
 
 Though these thy forfeit being could not save, 
 
 Thy faith subdued the terrors of the grave. 
 
 O ! if thy living excellence could teach, 
 Deatti has a loftier emphasis of speech : 
 In death thy last, best les-son still impart, 
 And write, PRKPABE to die, on every heart. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
LETTER XIII. 
 
 1199 
 
 genious, serious, acceptable and worthy youth, once 
 iny pupil, and I think movable, to make you a 
 visit. He has accepted the proposal, and will wait 
 on you for your directions about the middle of next 
 week, if God prosper his journey ; and he will be 
 where you please to order hiui for three following 
 Sundays. If Denton have not young Mr. Saunders 
 in view, and dare venture on so young a man as Mr. 
 Laugher, who will be ripening among them, I hope he 
 might be of service there. You might depend on his 
 regard for your counsels, but I fancy, one way or 
 other, his journey may answer some good end ; as, 
 being acquainted with him, you may have your eye 
 upon him in future vacancies, as one whom I would 
 wish removed from the little handful of people, 
 among whom ?iis good abilities are almost lost, to 
 a station of more extensive service. I commit him 
 and you to divine guidance. If he be agreeable, 
 he may perhaps return soon after the time you 
 mention, or if he cannot, I may send you another 
 supply, and will endeavour to do so when you de- 
 sire it. O, how pleasant is it to assist such a cause 
 and such a friend ! I was never better, but never 
 busier, yet see what a long letter I have scribbled ; 
 but it is to dear Mr. Wood, who has a right to a 
 thousand times more acknowledgments than he can 
 ever receive from his ever affectionate, faithful, and 
 obliged 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 P. S. I shall order Ophiomaclies on your recom- 
 mendation. Have you seen Bower's excellent 
 History of the Popes ? 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 August 25tli, 17.50. 
 
 My very dear Friend, 
 When I quitted you with so much tender regret, 
 after having received so many engaging favours, 
 and spent so many delightful hours with you, I re- 
 tained a secret hope, that I should long ere this 
 have renewed the converse, in such an imperfect 
 manner as pen and paper would have allowed me 
 to do it: but the continued hurry of every day and 
 hour that I spent in and about London, gave no op- 
 portunity of doing it, in a manner that would have 
 been in any degree satisfactory to me. Of my safe 
 arrival hither, I knew Miss Ekins would inform 
 you, and what I wrote on the outside of her letter 
 in short-hand, would just acquaint you with my 
 getting well to London. That I esteem you as one of 
 the worthiest men upon earth, and one of the most 
 able and faithful of ministers in the present age ; that 
 I look on your excellent lady as one of the wisest 
 
 and best of her sex, and number you both among 
 the tenderest, most engaging, and delightful friends, 
 I think you already are as sure of as any words 
 of mine can make you : and you must be sure, 
 that we have a deep and lasting sense of the num- 
 berless obligations you heaped upon us at Nor- 
 wich, and wherever else we had your company, 
 unless we are, what I think we never shall or can 
 be, lost to all sense of friendship and gratitude. 
 
 I was desirous, when I did write, to fill up at least 
 a page or two, and to give you some little intelli- 
 gence as to the state in which I found things in 
 London, and the probable success of the schemes 
 which you knew I was forming. Now here, in the 
 general, I am to tell you that, according to your re- 
 peated prayers when I was with you, and I doubt 
 not since I was separated from you, the hand of my 
 God hath been upon me for good, and whitherso- 
 ever I have gone I have prospered. You may 
 remember, that there were three affairs of a public 
 nature which were the objects of my particular 
 solicitude. The procuring a third tutor for my 
 academy — the providing for lads not yet fit for 
 academical education — and the doing something 
 for the service to New Jersey, for the propagation 
 of Christianity abroad. Providence has accom- 
 plished the first of these schemes, by the unexpected 
 success of the second ; and has opened some pro- 
 mising hopes concerning the third, beyond what 
 had entered into my mind when I parted with you. 
 The want of ministers and students is so seen and 
 felt, and the necessity of the scheme for educating 
 lads not yet ripe for academical studies, is grown 
 so apparent, that between three and four score 
 pounds per annum, have been, by well-disposed 
 persons, without any pressing solicitations from me, 
 subscribed for that purpose in and about London ; 
 and out of that it has been determined, that besides 
 Mr. Clark, who with a salary of forty pounds per 
 annum and his board, is to be tutor of philosophy, 
 another tutor is to be maintained with a salary of 
 thirty pounds, besides his board, who is to teach 
 the languages ; and as his salary chiefly arises 
 from this scheme, he is also to superintend the 
 education of these lads; who are, in devotional ex- 
 ercises, to attend with my pupils, and be under my 
 inspection, though not under my personal instruc- 
 tion, in their grammatical studies; and besides 
 those I had immediately in view before, I have 
 heard of some others well disposed for this pur- 
 pose, and whom I hope I shall, with this assist- 
 ance, perhaps increased by applications yet in 
 view, be able to do a good deal towards maintain- 
 ing. — As for the scheme of the New Jerseys, Mr. 
 Allen, who came over on purpose to ncgociate it, 
 unhappily was smitten by that fatal infection at the 
 Old Bailey, and is dead ; but I have had largo 
 conversation with Colonel Williams, who was the 
 
1-200 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 second man in the expedition to Cape Breton, and 
 by wlioni indeed it was chiefly projected ; and he 
 encourages me to liope that Mr. Peniberton, the 
 minister at New York, on my favourin;; the scheme, 
 as I certainly shall, will come to Britain, and make 
 a tour over its northern and southern parts, carrying 
 aloni;' witli him two converted and civilized Indi- 
 ans, as a specimen of what has already been done. 
 He proposes to attempt a collection lor the picsent 
 in the chief conijregations which he may visit on 
 this journey; after which, he may very properly 
 write such a letter in his own name to the dissent- 
 ing ministers in England, as I expressed my 
 thoughts of writing, and may with yet more de- 
 cency and strength recommend and enforce the 
 advices laid down in my preface to my sermon at 
 Kettering, as this might seem tlie happiest crisis we 
 could expect for carrying that plan into execution. — 
 As for the affair of Breslaw, the good Archbishop of 
 Canterbury did all he could to procure a brief for 
 them, or a contribution some other way. 
 
 You will perhaps be surprised to hear, that ap- 
 plication has been made to me from a son of Lord 
 William Manners, brother to the Duke of Rutland, 
 to desire admission among my pupils, though in- 
 tended for a clergyman in the estal)lished church : 
 and if he be willing to acquiesce in the terms and 
 orders of my family, I shall not refuse it. I wonder 
 
 at this one way, and I wonder also at Mr. 's 
 
 purpose of removing his son from me : I fear it is 
 cither on some misrepresentation or foolish be- 
 haviour of the young gentleman, for I have always 
 treated him with the fidelity of a real friend, and 
 with the tenderness of a parent ; and I am well 
 satisfied, that, especially on the improvements which 
 by means of a third tutor will be made in our course, 
 there is no place of education in England, where, 
 if a youth will do himself justice, greater advan- 
 tages are to be found. But you see how I have run 
 on. Were I to begin a second sheet, I should fill 
 it before I had emptied half my heart. Let me 
 conclude with the most alTectionate and grateful 
 services to all my good friends at Norwich, and 
 those at Yarmouth, when you see them. My wife 
 joins with me in these salutations, of which you and 
 your charming lady claim a very distinguished 
 sliare. O that we could see you here, and give 
 you both, as a poor grateful child expressed it, " all 
 your care again." Mr. Neal and Mr. Barker are 
 particular in their salutations to you. I am, 
 
 With much more aficction than can be expressed, 
 My dear friend, yours, 
 
 Blessed be God, for ever, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Noi tlianipton, Dtc. 4, 17,'iO. 
 
 It is such a pleasure to me to write to you, that I 
 sometimes am ready to wonder, I can conunand 
 myself so far as not to be <|uite troublesome by the 
 number and length of my epistles : and yet such are 
 my daily and hourly engagements, that I often defer 
 answering your kind, endearing, charming letters 
 till I have reason to be ashamed, and till one of 
 them overtakes another. This I am sure you will 
 excuse, and could wish you knew how frequently 
 and afiectionately I remember you, and what an in- 
 ward, heartfelt sense I have of your great import- 
 ance to the public, as well as the value of your 
 personal friendship. Your last letter illustrates 
 both, and your generous readiness even to part with 
 a most beloved and important friend, if it may be 
 for her good, is a noble instance of it. As for 
 
 Miss S 's affair I will say nothing of It here, as 
 
 I intend her at least a few lines, which I shall 
 enclose with this, and which I know she will com- 
 municate to you. Of other things to which your 
 letters refer, I will speak in as few words as I can, 
 that I may get the more minutes for that great all'air 
 which lies so much on the head and heart of us 
 both. For the congregation at Harlestone I am 
 very tenderly concerned, but I am not able to assist 
 them. I beg you will present my most cordially 
 affectionate respects to Mr. Matchet, and all the 
 rest of the gentlemen that signed with him, and tell 
 them, that I am sensible of the obligations they 
 have laid upon me by their very respectful and 
 aflccting application, and that I think it the part of 
 gratitude not to send any one to them, concerning 
 whom I have any doubt whether he would be tho- 
 roughly suitable or not ; and that, therefore, in this 
 extreme penury of supplies, which is by far the 
 greatest I have ever known, I find myself incapable 
 of assisting them. Yet I have a young gentleman 
 with me of such a stamp as they would I am sure 
 choose, who will enter on public work about Mid- 
 summer next. I would by no means have them 
 wait for him, as it is impossible for me to answer 
 for the views which may open upon him, or the turn 
 his inclinations may take from unknown contin- 
 gencies which may arise ; but when he comes out, 
 if they happen to be vacant, and he chooses the 
 journey, I will, God willing, endeavour to engage 
 him to make them a visit. Be pleased also to make 
 my due compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Baker, in 
 which Mrs. Doddridge concurs, renewing our thanks 
 for the very obliging and agreeable entertainment 
 we received at Denton ; and mine, for the most com- 
 plaisant letter, with which that very worthy friend 
 has been pleased since to honour me. How happy 
 should I have been in an interview witli such worthy 
 
LETTER XIV. 
 
 1201 
 
 brethren and excellent friends as you tell me as- 
 sembled at Rendham, at the opening of the new 
 place of worship there. I assure you, dear Sir, 
 and I beg the favour of yon to assure the gentlemen 
 who met there, when you see any of them, that there 
 are no associations of ministers any where, which I 
 attend with greater delight than those of Norfolk 
 and Suffolk. Your remark on Colonel Williams's 
 wonderful modesty is the very same which has been 
 made by others. How amiable in such a hero ! for 
 such no doubt he is: and the acquisition of Cape 
 Breton was, perhaps, more owing to him, taking in 
 the whole process of his counsels as well as actions, 
 than to any other person in the world. Yet how is 
 he rewarded ? Truly, nobly by Providence, if he 
 carry off one whom I esteem among the greatest 
 treasures of our island or our world, Mr. Finne is 
 a most excellent person : he has been pretty suc- 
 cessful in Holland, and such good consequences 
 have already attended the applications made to 
 several of our country congregations, that I believe 
 a college of the reformed (that is, the Calvinists) 
 will be formed at Breslaw ; which will have a 
 wonderful influence on the state of religion in 
 Silesia, and probably be attended with the greatest 
 effects of any thing that has happened in Germany, 
 since that wonderful affair at Hall, if that which 
 has been a mighty blessing is to be excepted. The 
 intended college, after the German plan, is to com- 
 prehend all sorts of schools, but chiefly those for 
 academical learning and the education of ministers ; 
 in which I apprehend that zealous, faithful, and 
 able servant of Ciirist, Mr. Finne, (to whom I hope 
 you will write a Latin letter,) will be greatly, if not 
 principally, employed. I beg you will present my 
 particular and most respectful services to that very 
 venerable and amiable man, Mr. Crompton, and 
 my hearty thanks for that paragraph in his very 
 kind letter you were so good as to transcribe. Tell 
 him, I read it with a mixture of pleasure and con- 
 fusion ; and that I honour and revere him more than 
 I can express, and should think it a singular bless- 
 ing of my life to have such an example and such a 
 counsellor often near me. In the mean time I pray 
 God long to spare his very useful life, and rejoice 
 greatly in his wonderful restoration. As to the 
 New Jerseys, I have written largely to Mr. Pember- 
 ton, whom I hope to sec here in the summer ; and 
 leave all that relates to the scheme, I hinted to you 
 in integro, till he or some other minister of credit 
 and influence may visit us from those parts, and 
 then I hope something will be done. In the mean 
 time, I have sent your youth's scheme all round our 
 country, and into some neighbouring parts, and find 
 such encouragement from my own congregation and 
 some others, that I hope we shall have a pretty 
 tolerable fund. I cannot but observe at the same 
 lime, a wonderful concurrence of providence in 
 4 H 
 
 raising up several hopeful and promising youths, 
 who are desirous of education for the ministry, and 
 I intend to take in all, in whom I am thoroughly- 
 satisfied ; trusting in God to prepare oil, so long as 
 there are empty vessels, and when we are broke I 
 will beg for more. The addition of another tutor 
 here is a circumstance of great importance ; and as 
 the scheme for an academy in London is adjourned, 
 sine die, I am ready to believe, though I do not cer- 
 tainly know it, that we shall have some youths sent 
 down to us from that quarter. But all this I leave 
 with God, earnestly praying, that good may be 
 done, and the interest of religion revived, and leav- 
 ing it to him to determine how and by whom. If 
 he determine to glorify his power and grace in the 
 weakness and unworthiness of the instrument, I 
 may have some hope that he will make use of me. 
 
 You see I am beginning on a new piece of paper: 
 but I must fill only a small part of it. I much de- 
 plored the death of Mr. Ford, of Sudbury. He was 
 a man of great talents, and, which is incomparably 
 better, great spirituality, integrity, and zeal for 
 Christ ; and we might, considering his age and 
 constitution, have expected much service from him 
 for many future years. But this providence adds 
 to the joy my heart feels in hearing of the comfort- 
 able state of your health, for which I offer many 
 prayers. I hope you will live to bless the world 
 many, many years after I have left it. As for Sud- 
 bury, I have now in town with me Mr. Holman and 
 Mr. Fen, who came to hear Mr. Hextal, of Creaton, 
 once my pupil, a most pious, humble, zealous, and 
 very able man, only of a weak constitution, who 
 would, perhaps, be as fit to succeed Mr. Ford as 
 any man that can be named. It would be a great 
 grief to me to lose him from these parts, but I would 
 not wrong the public so far, as to wish to retain him 
 in so small a place all his life. I shall be glad (hat 
 Mr. Taylor,* if he be recovered, may bestow his 
 time and labours on unlocking Hebrew words, and 
 hope the key he has left broken in the door of St. 
 Paul's Epistles, will not be able to keep the true 
 sense quite shut uj) : indeed I think the door opens 
 almost of its own accord. If I live to finish my 
 Exposition on the New Testament, the proposals 
 for which I am just publishing, and in which I am 
 going on daily, and have now proceeded in tran- 
 scril)ing to the Thessalonians, (1 Ep. iii.) I shall 
 make an attempt on the Minor Prophets, of which 
 indeed 1 liave already begun to make a new trans- 
 lation from tlie Hebrew, for my own entertainment 
 and use, and I shall be glad of any light which Mr. 
 Taylor's Lexicon can give me. 
 
 Dear Lady is in a very declining way. 
 
 Pray devoutly for her important life : and pray for 
 a blessing on the Family Expositor; and that God 
 
 ♦ Afterwanis Dr. Taylor, author nf a I'arai)lirasc with Notes on the 
 F.nisllc to the Romans. To which is prefixed, a Key to the Aiiostolic 
 Writin({!), 
 
LRTTERS. 
 
 woiilil opcti its way into I'aiiiilies. wlicrc it may he 
 uscliil. 1 wonlil lliioiij;li all llic labour atloiul- 
 iiig" it with pleasure, thou<;li I were sure I should 
 not get one shilling by it. 
 
 The (listeinper among the horned cattle has again 
 visited these parts; though, blessed be God, not 
 with violence. All our horses too have been ill, 
 yet lew are dead. The small-pox is broke out 
 dreadfully in the neighbouring villages — a most 
 malignant sort. One rash young fellow, coming to 
 a wake at Ilarpolc, in our neighbourhood, from the 
 bed of one infeeted with it, conveyed it to above 
 forty of that village ; all blooming persons, of whom 
 many are dead. In seventeen families, three in a 
 family, on an average, are down ; and fourteen 
 villages are invaded by it, and all in conse<iuenee 
 of some of the inhabitants being present at that fatal 
 dancing bout, the 15th of last month. The terror 
 this has occasioned is not to be imagined. Oh, when 
 shall we see the importance of inoculating chil- 
 dren I * in consequence of which, whole towns 
 have passed safely through, and not one life been 
 lost. But you say right, the cause of these desola- 
 tions is to be sought higher. The indolence and 
 sensuality of the professing world terrifies me much. 
 Yet, blessed be God, some are brought to a sense of 
 their duty and danger, nor does he leave mo with- 
 out encouragement on this head. Much pleasure 
 and satisfaction have I, when I can run away from 
 the world, and spend half a day in meditation and 
 prayer : and did we more frequently attempt this, 
 I believe we should find the work of the Lord more 
 prosperous among us. Religious societies are 
 forming, and many learn to pray, truly, 1 think better 
 than their ministers often do. O, these are things 
 which rejoice my heart. I am quite well, and in 
 good spirits. I never liad a more promising set of 
 pupils about me. God hear your prayers on my 
 account. Go on, and heap as many blessings upon 
 me as you can ; and help me forward to heaven 
 apace. And now I will add a paragraph of good 
 
 Lady 's last letter to me, which I can more 
 
 truly apply to you, my very excellent friend : 
 
 " Prayers fromnie you will have : and I believe one 
 of the last I put up will be to beg an abundant re- 
 ward for you." The voice involuntary of my heart 
 is, " Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is 
 none upon earth I desire besides thee." I expect 
 soon to be unfettered from flesh and blood. I will, 
 should the kind lot be appointed for me, rejoice 
 over you as your ministering spirit ; and I shall 
 always have good news to bring you. I will watch 
 carefully to protect your life long upon earth, for the 
 sake of thousands ; and then, by gentle operation, 
 
 * Dr. Doddrifl;^*' (iiililisbod a sm.'iU piece of Mr. Some's eoneerning^ 
 Iiiorulntioii fur the Sntall-jiox, uhieli was written and j>ub)istied prin. 
 • ipallv witli a vie* to remove the common olijectioii from a religious 
 scruple. 
 
 help to unfold your garmcnt.s of mortality, and with 
 my ftllow-conipanions, waft your gracious spirit to 
 the bridal feast of the Lamb, and w ith him, on Mount 
 Sion, shout your glorious deliverance. Farewell, 
 my kindest, best of friends, and live assured of the 
 
 ever affectionate regard of ." What have I to 
 
 add — but instead of 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 Northampton, Dec. 22, 17.sa 
 
 My de.vr Friend, 
 It is indeed true, that my affection for you is very 
 great ; but it is as true, that it cannot be greater than 
 your almost unexampled goodness demands. In 
 every thing but love I shall die your debtor. I can- 
 not in these straits of time answer your excellent 
 letter as it deserves ; but I have been immediately 
 mindful of the contents. As soon as I read it, I sat 
 down and wrote two letters into Scotland, the one 
 to Mr. Webster, the other to Mr. Robertson ; and 
 have pressed an answer from both as soon as 
 may be. 
 
 On Thursday morning, at the appointed time, 
 though my usual business and duties would have 
 engaged me another way, my poor imperfect re- 
 quests, hardly worthy to be called prayers, were 
 offered for our two excellent friends ; I hope with 
 something of that partiality and disinterestedness of 
 which you give so noble an example. As to the 
 result, I expect the leadings of Providence to de- 
 termine it much more out of regard to the petitions 
 of others than to my own. 
 
 Thus much for the principal subjects of your let- 
 ters. For the rest — receive our united salutations 
 in the warmest terms which friendship, and love, 
 and gratitude, can dictate. Pity me, and pray for 
 me, as you do, in the midst of so many hurries. Oh, 
 my poor, poor attempts of service ! They shame me 
 continually*. My prayers, my sermons, my lectures, 
 my books, (in hand,) my letters, all daily shame 
 me. A secret consciousness of meaning well, and 
 the remembrance of the great compassion of our 
 heavenly Father, and divine Master, are almost ray 
 only supports. Remember me daily. O that I 
 had more time and heart for secret devotion. Dear 
 Dr. Clark's death has been a deep wound. Sadly 
 did I perform the last office of respect to him. But 
 I must not enlarge. Pray for the success of the 
 Family Expositor. I am also printing the funeral 
 sermon for rny excellent friend at St. Albans. Lady 
 
 continues very ill. I fear we shall soon lose 
 
 her too. But the Lord liveth, and blessed be our 
 Rock, &c. 
 
LETTER XVI. XVII. 
 
 1203 
 
 I bless God, we are all pretty well, colds except- 
 ed. But the small-pox rages around the town, and 
 we have a very bad fever in it : and a few days 
 suffice for the journey of many into eternity, and 
 may suffice for mine. May I but live for Christ 
 while I continue here, and leave it to him to turn 
 the key whenever he sees fit. God is adding serious 
 lads to what we may call the humanity class, and 
 so many others are oflering themselves, that I begin 
 to doubt how they will be provided for : but we 
 must draw on the inexhaustible bank of the divine 
 bounty and faithfulness, and think often of Jeho- 
 vah-jireh. — Respects to all friends at Norwich, 
 shall in very deed conclude this hasty scrawl from, 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your affectionate friend, brother, and servant, 
 in everlasting bonds, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 I have, at least, fifty unanswered letters before me. 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 Nortliampton, Jan. 15, 1750-1. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 As I am much indisposed with a cough, which has 
 lately been attended with a pain in my breast, and 
 which forces me, which is a sad calamity, to lose 
 my mornings in bed ; and as I must this /norning, 
 though it is now between nine and ten, before I go 
 to my academical work, send up part of Dr. Clark's 
 funeral sermon, wliich I am to transcribe, that the 
 press may not stand still, yet mu.st I write you a 
 few lines. But alas, my head and heart arc so 
 full, that many pages would not contain their full 
 meaning. Let me thank you and my two excellent 
 friends, so soon to become one, for the very deliglit- 
 fol letter with which you have all honoured and 
 coniforted me. I hope the resolution of this day 
 fortnight was under the best direction, and will be 
 attcnde;! with the happiest consequences. I rejoice 
 greatly to hear of the favour which the Colonel and 
 his lady intend me. —One Mr. Samuel Davics, of 
 Hanover County in Virginia, has sent mo a charm- 
 ing letter of good news from a far country, which 
 I want to communicate to your society, that you 
 may praise God with me. Transcribing long letters 
 is a painful drudgery ; I think you should make a 
 little purse to pay postage of such letter.^, and I 
 would transmit them, and you should return them ; 
 and in that case I may perhaps send you this for a 
 beginning. But I run on too far. I must only add, 
 
 that Providence seems to engage Mr. , whom I 
 
 intended for Harlestone, another way, and there is 
 such a dearth of ministers as distresses my heart. 
 4 H 2 
 
 You have, I hope, heard the good news from Hol- 
 land of a remarkable revival of religion there. — But 
 alas, a bell rings which forces me to conclude. Pray 
 tell Mr. Frost he cannot long so much to hear from 
 me as I do to write to him ; and let him know, that 
 yesterday to amuse myself, as I took physic and 
 might not write much, I marshalled my unanswered 
 letters, and found them one hundred and six, near 
 one quarter of which reached nle since Friday 
 noon, and it was then Monday evening, and all 
 this, though I have written between fifty and sixty 
 letters the last fourteen days with my own hand, 
 having no secretary. And yet I sometimes think it 
 would be almost employment enough for all my 
 time to acknowledge a friendship like yours, and 
 my many obligations to your tender, constant, 
 generous love. Farewell, dear excellent man ; and 
 may the God who has given me so incomparable a 
 friend, spare him to bless tlie world long after it 
 has lost, if that be any loss. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your ever faithful, aflectionate, and obliged, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 Nortliampton, April 'J, 1751. 
 
 Dkar Sir, 
 
 I HAVE wrote such a multitude of letters of late, and 
 have received so many, that not having always been 
 so exact as I ought to have been in making memoran- 
 dums, I hardly know what I have and what I liavenot 
 answered ; and with regard to you I am the more 
 uncertain, as I may mistake some particular mes- 
 sages sent to you in Colonel 's letter some 
 
 time since, for an answer to that of yours, which 
 informed me of his marriage; but of this I am sure, 
 (hat every way I am in your debt, and always shall 
 be so: and I can add, that as tliere arc few on earth 
 whom I c(|ually honour and love, none whom I more 
 constantly remember among my best friends, so 
 there is none whose letters more constantly delight 
 and refresh me. Yours of the 20th of March, how- 
 ever, I am sure is unanswered, and I must now 
 entreat you in a few hasty lines to accept niy 
 thanks for it, and the former, with the assurances 
 of the most tender sympathy with you in all you 
 iiave suflcrcd and do suller by the death of some 
 valuable friends, the removal of others, especially 
 tliat incomparable one who has lately left us, and 
 whom I fear I shall see no more in thi.s world. Your 
 own disposition, and that of your excellent lady ; 
 the wickedness of those of whom your great and 
 generous candour has believed too well of; and the 
 afllictions of those whose sorrows your sympatiiizing 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 Iicnrt by so Iciulcr comjinssioii makes your own ; 
 these things I would feel for you, and particul.-irly 
 
 for poor Mr. , to whom I entreat you to 
 
 give niy services, assiirin"' him that both I and Miss 
 arc much touclied with his case. 
 
 My heart has been niucli set on promoting tiie 
 youths' selicme. I dispersed your papers all over 
 Ihi" country, but, to my great grief, have not found 
 in many of our congregations tliat encouragement 
 wliieli I hoped. Sometliing however is done, and 
 nuicli more in proportion from London than from 
 the country. There are however nine lads, some of 
 them very promising, who arc here supported by it ; 
 and I sometimes think two of them will oiler them- 
 selves as missionaries to New \ork, to plant the 
 gosi^el among the Indians there ; and glad at my 
 licart should 1 be, if my only son were desirous of 
 being the third. 
 
 I am at present under great concern for the ill- 
 ness, I fear the dangerous illness, of my generous, 
 faithful, endeared friend, Mr. Lyttclton. It is the 
 smallest part of this concern, that it prevents him 
 from doing that service to my subscription to the 
 remaining volumes of the Family Expositor, wliich 
 he was resolved to have attempted, and which, with 
 so great an interest, he might probably enough 
 have effected. The greater part of that disappoint- 
 ment to me is, that it may prevent it coming into 
 the hands of some in higher life to whom it may 
 otherwise have no access : but God limits or extends 
 all sucli prospects at pleasure, and I desire to refer 
 it to him with what degrees of encouragement the 
 work shall be published, and indeed, whether it shall 
 be published or not. The three volumes will hardly 
 be published at so small a price as a thousand 
 pounds, and I shall judge it the part of prudence, 
 and therefore of duty, not to send them to the press 
 on any terms on which I shall not be secure ; and if 
 there be such a number subscribed for or bespoke 
 by booksellers as to cficet that, I shall go on with 
 the publication as fast as 1 can ; and bless God for 
 such an opportunity of doing my public homage to 
 his word, and endeavouring, with all integrity and 
 simplicity, to make it understood, and to enforce it 
 on men's consciences according to the little ability 
 he has been pleased to give me ; which truly I 
 think so little, that I am .sometimes almost ashamed 
 (if having undertaken so great a work. 
 
 I have, of late, been much indisposed with a 
 cold, which is returned again, but not with so much 
 violence as before. I know I have your prayers, 
 and I delight in the thought. We are tending to 
 one blessed home. Our interview at Norwich was 
 pleasant, how much more will that be which we 
 expect in our Father's house. This poor letter has 
 been written rtipthn at several times. I have filled 
 my four pages, and yet seem but to have begun. 
 Jiut I must conclude with every good wish for you 
 
 and yours that the tenderest friendship can form ; 
 nor can I hope ever to tell my dear Mr. Wood how 
 faithfully and affectionately I am his, 
 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 Noitli.-Htipton, May II, I75I. 
 
 My dear Fkiend, 
 Receive in a few words my thanks for your last 
 very kind letter, and my condolences on the death 
 of good Mr. Holman, which grieves me exceed- 
 ingly. It would be some consolation to me, under 
 this affliction, which at present comes not alone, 
 could I meet you at Walpole on Wednesday seven- 
 night. I have much to say, but have no time, only 
 must assure of my sympathy with you in dear Mrs. 
 Wood's frequent indispositions. That charming 
 lady ! Why must she even feel any thing painful .' 
 but all will sit light if you are well. I pray God 
 she may enjoy that comfort and every other. I 
 long to talk over many matters at large with you, 
 and will come, if God permit, from London to Sud- 
 bury, at Mr. Hextal's settlement with that people, 
 if you will give me the meeting, and I will spend 
 two days there that we may enjoy one another. 
 Pray answer me this speedily, that the scheme may 
 be ripened, and I may judge what it will be neces- 
 sary to write in my next. I bless God I am pure 
 well. IViy eldest daughter is finely recovered of her 
 extreme illness ; whereas one of the loveliest girls 
 I ever knew, a wealthy attorney's daughter here, 
 who was but beginning to be slightly indisposed on 
 Thursday, died this evening. A most affecting 
 lesson of earthly vanity. Such are our children ; 
 such are we. But there is a world which is not 
 subjected to vanity. Excuse the hurry in which 
 duty obliges me to write. The letter I received to- 
 day from Mr. , was the four hundredth on 
 
 my list since Christmas. Support, dear Sir, by 
 your prayers, 
 
 Your very affectionate brother and friend, 
 
 and much obliged humble servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 Norlliampton, June 5, 1751. 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 We have been much obliged to Miss Reymes for 
 her visit, which she has made very agreeable to us ; 
 but the time of her stay has seemed very short, and 
 it has been a great trouble to us to part with her 
 so soon. Her piety, sweetness of temper, discretion, 
 
LETTER XX. 
 
 1205 
 
 and tender friendsliip, of which she has an exqui- 
 site sense, worthy one so conversant with you, have 
 endeared her to us more than I can well express ; 
 and I beg you to make our acknowledgments to her 
 worthy parents, who have so kindly indulged us in 
 a pleasure we much regret that we must so soon lose. 
 
 I cannot express how much I long to see you, and 
 firmly believe, that it was the secret hope of meet- 
 ing you and Mr. Frost, to whom I have made shift 
 to write a little, at Sudbury, that turned the scale 
 for that otherwise very inconvenient appointment. 
 
 I thank you most cordially for the regard you 
 express to the Family Expositor; to the second 
 volume of which, that is, the fifth of the whole 
 work, I have this morning been putting my finish- 
 ing hand ; except that the notes on the Hebrews 
 are not yet transcribed. 
 
 I am much obliged to you for the noble things 
 you have done for Breslaw. I am just writing 
 thither, and shall not fail to inform my worthy 
 friend Mr. Finne of your goodness. I really think 
 it will be of great importance, for the support of 
 the protestant cause in Germany, that their church 
 be thus aided in this important crisis. I rejoice 
 that Providence is still bearing you up under your 
 various fatigues, and animating you to so many im- 
 portant services ; in which you will be long con- 
 tinued and gloriously succeeded if ray poor broken 
 petitions can avail any thing. 
 
 I must not conclude without telling you that I am 
 far from well, liaving a violent cough, which seems 
 very stubborn, and sometimes almost silences nic in 
 public : I have scarce been one fortnight free from 
 it since I left London in August last ; but have kept 
 it pretty well at bay : but this last relapse is a very 
 bad one, and especially in conjunction with my in- 
 tended London journey, gives good Mrs. Doddridge 
 a great deal of uneasiness. I thank God, I have no 
 aversion to the thoughts of a speedy removal ; but T 
 would husband life as well as I can, especially for 
 his sake who gave it, and whose loving-kindness is 
 so much better than life; and truly, so far as some 
 visible blessing on my labours can endear it to mc, 
 I never had more reason to wish it might be pro- 
 longed. 
 
 I beseech you to make my best compliments to 
 your good lady, and all other friends your way, 
 particularly my reverend brethren in the ministry, 
 and Mr. IJakcr, of Denton, when you see him. 
 Mrs. Doddridge joins in all these salutations. As 
 for me, I find all language poor when I would tell 
 you how highly I esteem you, how tenderly I love 
 you, and how con.stantly and faithfully I am, to the 
 best of my little abilities, 
 
 Reverend and dear Sir, 
 
 Your most affectionate brother, 
 and much obliged humble servant, 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 I greatly esteem Mr. Tomms, and bless God for 
 raising up such a person ; but cannot bear to hear 
 my friend Wood speaking of himself as in the wane 
 of his usefulness. I hardly think you yet arrived 
 at the acme of it : and often rejoice that you are 
 like to live to bless the world and the church, when 
 I am got home. 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 Sudbury, June 20, 1751. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 Hardly any disappointment of the kind ever hung 
 heavier upon mc than that of not seeing you here ; 
 the expectation of which, with the hopes of an in- 
 terview with good Mr. Frost, gave mc resolution to 
 lircak tlirougli the strong importunity of my friends 
 in London, and through the discouragements arising 
 from a very bad cold, which such a journey was 
 likely to increase, that I might once more see and 
 embrace him who has so much of my heart, as well 
 as of my esteem, that if I think love could inscribe 
 a name there, yours would be found on mine when 
 it beats no more. But a regard to duty keeps you 
 at home, and therefore I ought to love you the bet- 
 ter for it. I was the more earnestly desirous of 
 seeing you, as I had several things to talk over 
 with you of great importance. A restless night, or 
 rather many restless hours in it, in connexion with 
 the views of labour before me this day, for which I 
 am but ill qualified, has detained me in bed so 
 long, that I have now but a few minutes to write to 
 you. As to Colonel Williams's scheme for the In- 
 dian school, I shall refer you partly to Mr. Frost, 
 who will inform you of what passes in reference to 
 it, and partly to some future letter, if God permit, 
 in which I will furnish you with the memorial of 
 this important afl'air which the good Colonel sent 
 me by the last post : and perhaps I may also send 
 you a copy of tlie Bishop of London's letter to me 
 in reference to Mr. Davies's affair in Virginia. I 
 paid in your noble donation to Mr. Wilson for the 
 church of Breslaw, last week, a sacrifice of a sweet- 
 smelling savour. Go on vigorously with the youths' 
 scheme. It is our sheet anchor, and I sec congre- 
 gations falling so fast into wretched lay-hands, or 
 utterly perishing for want of supplies, thai I am 
 more than ever solicitous that it may still be con- 
 tinued, and extended as far as possible. But I 
 must not enlarge. The frequent returns of my 
 cough alarm my friends, and those in town say I am 
 grown many years older since they saw me last. I 
 leave the event with God : but for my own part ap- 
 prehend no immediate danger ; unless it be of 
 being obliged to allow myself more rest than suits 
 cither w ith my inclination or the demands of my 
 
1200 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Ijusincss. My second daughter was ill when I 
 heard last from home. Pray for Iier, and continue 
 yonr prayers for him, who is much more than he 
 ean express, 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 and mncli oljliged humble .servant, 
 
 PHILIP DODDRIDGE. 
 
 LETTER XXI.» 
 
 To <i Ludfi, under dejection of mind on a reliyious 
 account. 
 
 June 25, 1745. 
 
 Dear Madam, 
 I UETURN you my most affectionate thanks for the 
 freedom with which you have opened your mind to 
 me, both by repeated and unreserved conversations, 
 and by a communication of papers intended entirely 
 for your own use. The consequence, I most faith- 
 fully assure you, is, that the more I know you, the 
 more firmly I am convinced, not only that you are 
 a real, but that you are a very advanced, Christian. 
 I have pointed to you already the principles on 
 which I build the conclusion. But as I have not 
 yet been happy enough to remove remaining diffi- 
 culties, give me leave, in this letter, to lay before 
 you some hints, as to what I apprehend may be the 
 cause, and, by a divine blessing, in some measure 
 at least, the cure, of this anxiety which so much 
 harasses your mind. And pardon me, that in this 
 strait of time, and in this hour which, with pleasure 
 for your service, I take from my sleep before the 
 journey and labours of to-morrow, I do but touch 
 upon particulars, and give short hints, instead of 
 illustrating or reasoning upon them at large. 
 
 Now, as to the causes of your present distress, I 
 apprehend the following things, among others, are 
 the chief and most peculiar ; for I shall not mention 
 those two grand cardinal causes of all our distress, 
 — some remainder of sin in the best hearts, while 
 they continue here, — and the artifice and malice of 
 our conmion enemy. What is most peculiar seem 
 to be, 1. The weakness of animal nature, which, 
 after the attacks it has borne, must necessarily be 
 very weak, unless it had been strengthened by a 
 miracle, which even in such a case we have no 
 warrant to expect. 2. The extraordinary elevation 
 of devotion, which at some times you have known, 
 and particularly when you were first setting out in 
 religion. 3. In con.sequcnec of this, an ardent 
 desire of c(|ualling all the sallies of devotion, in 
 this present infirm state of your health ; by the very 
 desire and endeavour of which, I heartily wish that 
 
 * From lliv uulliot's ehort-haad copy. 
 
 you may not utterly ruin it. 4. A hard and 
 unjust conclusion which you have hence drawn 
 against yourself, as if you were one of the most 
 ungrateful and criminal of mankind, that excites 
 an indignation against yourself, which you think 
 you can never feel with a sulficient sensibility. 
 5. The sublime ideas which you have formed to 
 yourself of the spiritual life, in which you seem not 
 to make sulficient allowance, either for the natural 
 infirmities of this animal frame, when in its best 
 state ; or, for the avocations inseparable from the 
 life of one who is not absolutely a recluse from the 
 world. I really apprehend these to be the causes 
 of your disquiet. 
 
 With relation to the most proper method of cure, 
 the following particulars present themselves to me ; 
 which I wish I had time to digest and express 
 better. 1. To lay it down as a certain principle, 
 that religion consists more in an intelligent, ra- 
 tional, and determinate choice of the will, than in 
 any ardent transport of the alTections. 2. To con- 
 sider, that there is a certain degree of afllicting 
 ourselves for past sins, and for present imperfec- 
 tions, which is so far from being our duty, that it is 
 very likely to prove a snare, and to produce conse- 
 quences displeasing to our gracious Father in 
 heaven, and injurious both to ourselves and others. 
 3. Settle it deliberately in your understanding as a 
 certain truth, that the grand security of the soul lies, 
 in deliberately intrusting itself to Christ, chosen in 
 all his offices, and devoting itself to God through 
 him, according to the tenor of the Christian cove- 
 nant ; and steadily endeavour in consequence of it, 
 to practise that which the word of God requires, 
 and to forbear every thing which it forbids, and 
 referring all its concerns, not excepting even the 
 degrees of its spiritual comfort and enjoyment, to 
 his wise and gracious determination. 4. In conse- 
 quence of this, be often, and daily indeed, renew- 
 ing your covenant with God, in the manner which 
 that most wortliy and excellent servant of Christ, 
 your ever honoured and beloved father, has so in- 
 felligently, aflectionately, and frccjuently recom- 
 mended. 5. Let your devotions be reduced within 
 narrow limits, and rather frequent and short, than 
 protracted to a very great length ; and in your 
 addresses to the throne of grace be more intent 
 upon the sincerity of the heart, and the calm fixed- 
 ness of the thoughts, than about the flow of affec- 
 tion, which is not, and cannot be, immediately in 
 our own power ; but may, humanly speaking, depend 
 upon a thousand meelianical causes, which we do 
 not so much as know, G. Con.sider how much of 
 religion consists in trusting in God, in hoping iu 
 his mercy, and in rejoicing in him ; and how suit- 
 able this is lo the peculiar constitution of the 
 gospel, and the characler which Christ our media- 
 tor bears ; by consequence, therefore, how essential 
 
LETTER XXI. 
 
 1207 
 
 a branch of gfiatitude it is, aud liovv much a tender 
 conscience should be upon its guard, that it does 
 not fail here. 7. Remember continually, that, after 
 all, it is by faith in the merits and intercession of 
 Christ, and not by the perfection of our works, that 
 we are to obtain justification and life ; and that the 
 best of Christians will have their imperfections 
 while they are in this world ; and may, and must, 
 under a sense of them, daily apply to the great 
 Advocate, and renew the actings of their faith upon 
 his efficacious blood and intercession. 8. Make 
 yourself familiarly acquainted with the promises of 
 God ; those relating to the pardon of sin, the im- 
 parting grace to the soul that seeks it, &c. : and 
 choose, for some time, every morning, some com- 
 fortable promises to be the subject of your medita- 
 tion ; and now and then employ that fine talent 
 which God has given you for poetical composition, 
 in paraphrasing such scriptures in some short 
 hymns. 9. Endeavour to exert yourself as much 
 as possible in attempts of usefulness, by conversing 
 with the children who are so happy as to be the 
 objects of your pious care, and with those who are 
 in circumstances that bear any resemblance to your 
 own. 10. Disburthen yourself as much as possible 
 of every anxious thought relating to futurity, 
 whether regarding temporals or spirituals : confine 
 your views to present duty, and leave future con- 
 tingencies in the hands of God. 11. Be thankful 
 for every, the least, glimmering of hope, and for 
 any kind and degree of consolation which God is 
 pleased to give you ; and take great heed that you 
 do not suspect those comforts which lead you to 
 God and goodness to be delusions, merely because 
 they are not so permanent and eflcctual as you 
 
 could wish, lest you should injure that great Agent 
 to whom you are so highly obliged, and whom you 
 so tenderly fear to grieve. 12. In one word, study 
 by all means to nourish the love of God in your 
 heart ; breathe forth with humble tenderness the 
 genuine impressions of it; and as human nature 
 must have its weary intervals and its barren frames, 
 delight to look to God in them, as a Being who 
 penetrates all the inmost recesses of the heart, and 
 sees that secret tendency of soul to liim, which 
 neither tears nor words can express. — " Lord, thou 
 knowest that I love thee : or that I would (thou 
 knowest I would) prefer the sensible exercises of 
 it to any other delight." By this method, the habits 
 of divine love will strengthen by frequent acts ; 
 and I verily believe, that time will at length pro- 
 duce such a consciousness of it, that you will be 
 no more able to doubt of it than of your own 
 existence. 
 
 These, Madam, are advices, which though not 
 expressed with the accuracy I could wish, I would 
 recommend to you as the most important I can give. 
 My earnest prayer for you, and which I desire daily 
 to repeat, is, that God himself may be your com- 
 forter, and pour out upon your wounded and 
 mournful heart the oil of gladness in a rich abun- 
 dance. To know that I have been in any instance 
 the instrument of reviving so excellent a spirit would 
 give me unutterable joy, and I should esteem it 
 among the gjreatest honours God has ever bestowed 
 upon, 
 
 Dear Madam, 
 Your most affectionate friend, 
 
 and faithful humble servant, 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
A SERMON 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE 
 
 DEATH OF THE REV. PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D. D. 
 
 WHO DIED OCTOBER 26, 1751, IN THE FIFTIETH YEAR OF HIS AGE. 
 
 BY JOB OETON. 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To the Church of Christ (it Northampton, lately under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. Dochbndge ; 
 Grace, Mercy, and Peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 My dear Friends, 
 
 Though Providence has removed me a distance from you, I share largely in those sorrows, with which 
 your minds arc filled on account of the death of your learned, pious, and excellent pastor ; an event 
 which all our churches greatly and justly lament. When he assigned to me the work of preaching the 
 Sermon on that occasion, he was sensible my respect for you, as well as for him, would not sutler me to 
 decline it. In compliance with his desire the following Discourse was drawn up, in the best manner I 
 could, amidst the languors of an infirm constitution, and the interruption of many necessary avocations. 
 And it had been long ago preached among you, had not a wise Providence permitted an unhappy acci- 
 dent to befall me, which confines me at home. It is the most grievous circumstance in this affliction, 
 tliat I am prevented from visiting you, performing the service assigned by my ever honoured friend and 
 father, and personally suggesting to you such consolations and advices as may, in present circumstances, 
 be peculiarly useful. To supply this lack of service, I am constrained to send you the Discourse from 
 the press : and this, I hope, will be a sufficient apology with those, who may think it unworthy of public 
 regard. It is some satisfaction to me to reflect, that discourses, on such solemn occasions, have been 
 attended with great usefulness, especially to the acquaintance and friends of the deceased, which has 
 often flowed, not so much from the thoughts and advices contained in them considered alone, as viewed 
 in connexion with the awful events which occasioned them. I hope, therefore, that a recollection of the 
 Doctor's eminent worth, and the loss his family, his flock, and the public sustain by his death, will cast a 
 veil over the imperfections of this Discourse, and fill every reader's heart with so much seriousness and 
 tenderness, as may make way for the plain remarks and admonitions contained therein, to impress it, 
 and through the influences of the Spirit of Jesus, produce some valuable effect. 
 
 I cannot conclude this address without expressing my warmest gratitude to you, for all the respect and 
 aficction with which you honoured me, during the agreeable years I spent amongst you. And it is my 
 earnest wish and prayer, that you may yet flourish, and be edified, walking in the fear of the Lord, and 
 the comforts of the Holy Ghost : particularly that you may act upon those noble and truly Christian 
 maxims of candour and unanimity, which your late pastor inculcated upon you, and the public, in all 
 your future conduct, and especially in the choice of his successor ; that the Head of the church would 
 give you a pastor after his own heart, under whom you may daily grow in Christian knowledge and holi- 
 ness, and be training up for the perfection and happiness of the heavenly state. These are the daily 
 prayers of, 
 
 My dear friends. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 and servant, for Jesus' sake, 
 
 JOB ORTON. 
 
A SERMON, &c. 
 
 1209 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 
 
 1 Cor. XV. 54, latter part. 
 
 Death is swallowed up in victory. 
 
 The dying bed of an eminent Christian is a most 
 melancholy, and at the same time a most delightful, 
 scene : grief for the dominion of sin and death, and 
 the loss we are sustaining by his removal, joy in the 
 supports of religion he feels, and the promises of 
 the gospel he rests upon, take place in our minds 
 by turns, and sometimes mingle together. But in a 
 soul farmed to a relish for virtuous friendship, and 
 deeply impressed with the great truths of Christi- 
 anity, the joy will preponderate ; and the pious 
 heart will overflow with sacred delight to see the 
 terrors of death removed, to observe how wonderfully 
 God sustains his servants in their last conflict, and 
 what an attestation they give to the fulness and 
 sweetness of Christian consolations. In this in- 
 stance in particular, God graciously makes his 
 providence a commentary upon his word, and illus- 
 trates the promises of his gospel by the joy and 
 peace he diffuses into the hearts of his dying saints. 
 Our text has often been the means of producing this 
 joy, and is indeed one of the most comfortable de- 
 clarations that mortal creatures can hear ; and the 
 awful event, which directs my thoughts to it, con- 
 firms the excellency and suitableness of it. It 
 should certainly be regarded by all with an atten- 
 tion becoming dying creatures. But tliere are two 
 circumstances (my friends) to recommend it to 
 your peculiar regard, viz. that it was exemplified 
 in the closing scenes of the life of your late worthy 
 pastor, so justly dear to you and to me, and that out 
 of a particular concern for your support and en- 
 couragement living and dying, it was his express, 
 his last, and almost dying, request, that I would 
 discourse to you from it, on this very melancholy 
 occasion. 
 
 The excellent and reviving chapter of whidi tlie 
 text is a part, was intended to confute the opinion 
 of those who said, there was no resurrection of the 
 dead.* Their error seems to have been in asserting, 
 that what Christ and his apostles had said of a 
 resurrection, did not refer to a resurrection of the 
 dead, but a resurrection or renovation to a life of 
 holiness from a state of sin, which is justly and 
 beautifully described as a state of death. This, 
 probably, was the error of Ilymeneus and Philctus, 
 who said, that the resurrection is past already. The 
 apostle Paul therefore sets himself to prove at large, 
 that there sliall be a resurrection of the dead. He 
 proves it possible, from the resurrection of Christ ; 
 
 * AVhilby, in lot-. 
 
 a well known and undisputed fact. He proves it 
 certain, from tlie connexion between this fact and 
 the authority of the apostles to publish his religion ; 
 of which this doctrine was so distinguishing and 
 glorious a part ; and also from the relation in which 
 Christ, the last Adam, stood to mankind. And as 
 the objections against tliis doctrine chiefly arose 
 from not understanding its nature, and the circum- 
 stances of the new body, he enlarges upon these 
 topics in the latter part of the chapter ; and con- 
 cludes it with a divine and most eloquent rapture, 
 describing the glorious resurrection of the saints, 
 (of whom alone he there speaks,) and triumphing 
 in the prospect of this blissful event ; so (says he) 
 when this corruptible shall have put on incorrup- 
 fion, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, 
 then shall be brought to pass the saying that is 
 written, " Death is swallowed up in victory." The 
 text is a quotation from the prophecies of Isaiah, 
 where it is said, He will swallow up death in vic- 
 tory ; and probably refers to the deliverance of the 
 Israelites from that utter destruction, which the 
 king of Assyria threatened, and attempted to bring 
 upon them ; a deliverance tliat was indeed life from 
 the dead. It is with great propriety and beauty, 
 that these sublime and comfortable words are by 
 St. Paul accommodated to the resurrection of the 
 dead. The text suggests to us these two remarks, 
 which I will endeavour to illustrate, and then direct 
 you to the proper improvement of them. 
 
 I. Death may naturally be considered as an 
 enemy. 
 
 II. True Cliristians shall obtain a complete vic- 
 tory over it. 
 
 I. Death may naturally be considered as an 
 enemy. 
 
 Tliis is implied in the text, when the apostle 
 speaks of a victory ; and it is expressly asserted in 
 verse 26. The last enemy that shall be destroyed 
 is death. It is an enemy we are every one to con- 
 flict with, for there is no discharge in that war. 
 Death is, by an elegant figure, often described in 
 the Scriptures, as a person, or intelligent agent. It 
 is emphatically styled the king of terrors, and said to 
 reign over mankind by one man's offence. Nature 
 and experience teach us to consider death as an 
 enemy ; for 
 
 It dissolves the union between soul and body. 
 It dislodges the soul, willing or unwilling ; and 
 separates it from its old and dear companion. 
 Providence has wisely implanted in every human 
 mind a love to the body to which it is united, and 
 a tender concern for its health ; insomucii that no 
 man ever yet hated his own llcsli, but nourisheth 
 and cherislietli it. Consccjuently a separation must 
 be painful. Tiiough good men while in this taber- 
 nacle (this mean precarious building) groan being 
 burthened, yet there is a natural aversion to put it 
 
I -2 10 
 
 A SERMON ON THE 
 
 oil". Not (says the npostic) for tliat \vc would bo 
 unclothed. It would be more au;rceal)lc to take tlic 
 body with us to another world, than <;o throu};h the 
 pain and terror of dying, and li.ive these two bosom 
 friends divorecd. • This is a eirenmstancc we would 
 be glad to be excused from, especially as it is the 
 conse<|uencc and punishment of sin; but death 
 will pull down tliis structure, which, mean as it is, 
 we arc fond of, havin<f dwelt in it so long, and hav- 
 iu": been at so mudi care and pains to keep it in 
 tolerable repair, and will force the inhabitant to 
 remove. 
 
 Again, death destroys the activity and beauty of 
 the body, and turns it into loathsomeness and cor- 
 ruption. Diseases, its forerunners, generally con- 
 sume away the flcsli that it cannot be seen, and the 
 bones that were not seen, stick out. At Icngtli the 
 comeliness of the body is turned into deformity, 
 and wliat was an object of delight becomes a spec- 
 tacle of horror. The limbs that were sprightly and 
 active grow stiff and useless ; the eyes which 
 sparkled with life and vigour are sunk and ghastly; 
 the learned brain, in which so many curious traces 
 were lodged, so many ideas ranged with the utmost 
 care, and retained by close recollection, lias lost its 
 exquisite sensibility ; and the entertaining and in- 
 structive tongue is sealed up in silence. The vitals 
 of the body have lost their powers. The lungs 
 cease to play, and the heart to beat. The silver 
 cord is loosed, and the golden bowl broken ; the 
 pitcher is broken at the fountain, and the wheel 
 broken at the cistern. Then we are willing to bury 
 our dead out of our sight ; to cast the desire of our 
 eyes into the grave, to mingle with common dust, 
 and lie in dishonour and darkness for ages to come. 
 
 Further, death removes us from our most near 
 and intimate friends, and other earthly comforts. 
 
 It dissolves the ties of nature, and the alliances 
 of friendship ; and breaks down the pleasing fabric 
 of happiness, which love had been for many years 
 erecting. The benevolent heart is ready to take up 
 Hezekiah's mournful complaint, I shall behold man 
 no more with the inhabitants of the world. 
 
 Further, it breaks off men's thoughts and purposes 
 relating to this world, for the good of their families, 
 neighbourhood, and the public. The great thoughts 
 of wise and pious men for the glory of God and the 
 advancement of religion perish ; and the charitable 
 schemes, which depended on the continuance of 
 their lives, are defeated. 
 
 Finally, The little acquaintance we have with the 
 other world, to which death transmits us, increases 
 the fear of a removal hence. 
 
 Wc know so little of our souls, and their manner 
 of existence and operation without a body, and 
 there are so many doubts and fears about their 
 eternal condition prevailing in us, that no wonder 
 the thought of quitting the present scene is painful. 
 
 and death, as it removes us from it, is considered 
 as an enemy. 
 
 Whose heart is not ready to fail him in the pros- 
 pect .' Who does not find his reason, and sometimes 
 his faith too, ready to sink, when he is going to 
 encounter tlic king of terrors, and pass though his 
 dark and gloomy regions to an unknown and unal- 
 terable state f And in vain we call to reason, and 
 ask philosophy to furnish us with suHicient armour 
 of defence, and to fortify our minds against the 
 attacks of this stern invader. It is the peculiar 
 glory of the gospel of Christ to assist our reason, 
 and increase our faith in proportion to the strength 
 of the enemy, and the different impressions which 
 the apprehensions of it make upon our minds. And 
 til is it does by the discovery it makes of a future 
 state, a glorious resurrection, and a final everlasting 
 triumph over death. 
 
 Having thus briefly viewed the frightful features 
 of the enemy, let us turn our eyes to a more bright 
 and agreeable scene ; and observe, 
 
 IT. True Christians shall obtain a complete vic- 
 tory over death. 
 
 The text informs us that a victory shall be gained, 
 and it shall be so complete, that death may be said 
 to be even swallowed up in it, quite destroyed, and 
 no traces or remainders of it be found. This is 
 confirmed by the passage already mentioned ; verse 
 26. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. 
 The word [KarapyeiTat] rendered destroyed, signifies 
 being divested of an authority it had before, and 
 being reduced to an incapacity of exerting any 
 further power.* Thus, after the same apostle had 
 been speaking of persecution, peril, and sword, of 
 being killed all the day long, as the lot of himself 
 and his fellow-ehristians, he adds, Nay, in all these 
 things we are more than conquerors, complete, 
 glorious, triumphant conquerors. — And this is 
 agreeable to what God himself declares concerning 
 this formidable enemy, with so much grandeur and 
 majesty. " I will ransom them from the power of 
 the grave: I will redeem them from death: O 
 death, I will be thy plague ; O grave, I will be thy 
 destruction; repentance shall be hid from my eyes." 
 
 For the further illustration of this comfortable 
 truth, let us observe, that the victory is in some 
 measure obtained in the present life, — but it shall 
 be perfected in the future. 
 
 1. The victory is in some measure obtained even 
 in the present life. 
 
 Christ gained a victory by his own resurrection, 
 and the revelation and promise of a happiness 
 beyond the grave ; for he hath abolished death, 
 (abolished its tyranny, destroyed its force, and 
 rendered it, comparatively, of none effect,) and hath 
 brought life and immortality to light through the 
 gospel. He has assured us of the certainty and 
 
 * Compare verse 24, where the same word is rendered " put down." 
 
DEATH OF DR 
 
 eternity of the future state, and largely explained 
 its nature. — He has not indeed removed the natural 
 fears of death, which are wrought into our very 
 constitution, and are the springs of many of our 
 actions ; nor is it his intention entirely to remove 
 from the minds of good men that fear of death, 
 which has an apparent tendency to promote serious- 
 ness and watchfulness, a heavenly disposition, 
 which keeps them always prepared for the coming 
 of the Lord. But he has taken away the slavish 
 apprehensions of it, and delivered them, who, 
 through fear of death, were all their life-long sub- 
 ject to bondage. Death has now, in effect, changed 
 its nature. It only hurts the body, not the soul. It 
 only puts an end to those pursuits, employments, 
 and entertainments, which are suited to the body, 
 and this present world ; but not to those, about 
 which holy souls are engaged, and with which they 
 are delighted and improved. Nay, it is become, on 
 many accounts, a benefit ; as it puts an end to their 
 temptations and conflicts, doubts and fears ; as it 
 hides their bodies in the grave, for ever shelters 
 them from the pains and sorrows to which they are 
 here exposed, and transports their separate spirits 
 to everlasting purity and peace. 
 
 A present victory is obtained by the calmness 
 with which the saints die ; and that joy unspeak- 
 able and full of glory, with which the Spirit of 
 Christ sometimes replenishes their hearts, when the 
 flesh is sinking into the dust. — Are tliey not con- 
 querors, when, with smiles in their pale counte- 
 nances, and songs of praise upon their quivering 
 lips, they calmly yield to the stroke of death, and, 
 through Christ who strengthened them, triuni[)h 
 over all its frightful powers, saying, O death, where 
 is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? Let 
 me add, tliis is death's last attack. It strikes once, 
 but can never strike more; and "all tiie hurt it 
 can possibly do them, is to put it absolutely out of 
 his own power ever to hurt them any more."* 
 Which leads me to add further, 
 
 3. The victory shall be perfected in the future 
 world. 
 
 And this will appear, when we consider, that all 
 the faithful servants of Christ siiall be raised 
 again ; their bodies shall be transformed into the 
 likeness of Christ's body ; and they .shall be fixed 
 in a state of complete and everlasting happiness. 
 
 1. All the faithful servants of Christ shall be 
 raised again. 
 
 They are laid in the grave, but not one of them 
 shall be lost there. Death feeds on them, but at 
 the great day they shall have the dominion. Thai 
 there shall be a resurrection of the dead, that their 
 bodies, which are turned to corruption, shall bo 
 redeemed, and so much of each as shall be sufhcicnl 
 to denominate it their oivn body, collected and 
 * Mr. How. 
 
 . DODDRIDGE. 1211 
 
 united by tlie almighty power of God, is certainly 
 declared in the holy Scriptures. We have some 
 intimations of this in the Old Testament, upon 
 which the Jews grounded their belief that there 
 should be a resurrection of the dead, both of the 
 just and the unjust. But it is plainly revealed in 
 the New. " The hour is coming when all that 
 are in their graves, shall hear the voice of Christ, 
 and come forth." This (says he) is the will of him 
 that sent me, that every one which seeth the Son, 
 and believeth on him, may have everlasting life, 
 and I will raise him up at the last day. This doc- 
 trine the apostles preached ; they assured the 
 Christians, that he who raised up Christ from the 
 dead, should quicken their mortal bodies. That 
 Christ was risen from the dead, and become the 
 first-fruits of them that slept ; of that plentiful 
 harvest which should spring out of the dust, when 
 the Lord should descend again from heaven. The 
 resurrection of Christ, illustrated by the resurrec- 
 tion of other dead bodies, proves what God can do, 
 and testifies what he will do. And this chapter 
 alone will keep up the belief of this great event, 
 till the trumpet shall sound, and the resurrection 
 prove itself. Captivity shall be led captive, and 
 death, which has triumphed over the whole human 
 race, shall himself be triumphed over, when the 
 earth and the sea shall give up their dead. Though 
 we now say to corruption, Thou art my father, and 
 to the devouring worm. Thou art my mother and my 
 sister : the authority and power of Christ shall at 
 length dissolve the disagreeable relation, and the 
 grave claim no mere acquaintance with us. But, 
 as a bare resurrection is conmion to good and bad ; 
 and since, as in Adam all die, even so in Christ 
 shall all be made alive ; therefore we must add, 
 
 2. Their bodies shall be transformed into the 
 image of Christ's body. 
 
 This is their peculiar honour; and the apostle 
 Paul asserts it in very strong terms ; Who shall 
 change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like 
 unto his glorious body, according to the working 
 whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto 
 himself. The doctrine of the resurrection was ridi- 
 culed by the weaker heathens as impossible, and 
 represented by the wiser as undesirable ; turning 
 the soul again into a prison, and laying upon it an 
 insupportable burthen : but the account the apostle 
 gives us in this chapter, of the great alteration 
 which shall be made in the bodies of the saints, 
 answers their objections. He assures us, that 
 weakness, corruption, and dishonour .shall be left 
 in the grave ; and the body be raised in incorrup- 
 tion, glory, and power ; a spiritual body, not an 
 animal one. And as we have borne the image of 
 the earthly, wc shall also bear the image of the 
 heavenly. The body shall be quite refined from 
 gross matter, be more active and sprightly, and 
 
1312 
 
 A SERMON ON THE 
 
 iiioic easily moved fioiii plaec to place, tlian it now 
 is, in its utmost How ol' health and spirits. It shall 
 have no gross organs to obscure the faculties of the 
 soul, or clog its operations. It shall need no such 
 supports as it now does, nor feel any of those appe- 
 tites, w hich arc often temptations to sin, and wliich, 
 vvitliout resolute government, injure the health, and 
 prevent the serviceablcncss of tlie body, as well as 
 interrupt the tranquillity and peace of the mind. 
 It sliall have no corrupt blood or sour juices, to 
 occasion irregular ferments, to excite the angry pas- 
 sions, or produce a melancholy or a fretful dispo- 
 sition. There will be no law in the members war- 
 ring against the law of the mind, and bringing it 
 into captivity. It will exert itself with the utmost 
 vigour in God's service, without being wearied wifli 
 it, or worn out by it. Then sliall the righteous 
 shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their 
 Father. The place, the company, the work of 
 heaven, will all tend to increase their lustre and 
 activity. If Moses's converse with God for a few 
 days left such a brightness on his countenance, that 
 the Israelites could not bear to beliold it, it is very 
 natural to infer, that dwelling in tlie presence of 
 God, the fountain of light, beholding the glory of 
 Christ for years and ages, will improve the splen- 
 dour of pure, spiritual, incorruptible bodies. And, 
 it is probable, a covering of effulgent glory will be 
 thrown over them, as there was over Christ's body 
 when he was transfigured, and his face shone as the 
 sun, and his raiment was white as the light ; and 
 make tliem shine as tlie brigli*:ness of tlie firma- 
 ment. And the more they resen'ble Christ in moral 
 excellency, the more will their spiritual bodies re- 
 semble his, and the more illustrious be this mark of 
 distinction and dignity. — But what is the precise 
 nature of these bodies ; how they will move and 
 act ; whether new organs will be added, or the pre- 
 sent altered ; in what manner the soul will act, and 
 be influenced by them ; are questions which we 
 cannot solve, while we dwell in houses of clay. It 
 is suflicient for us to know, that every thing, which 
 was an imperfection, or a mark of the divine dis- 
 pleasure against sin, shall be entirely removed ; 
 that the body shall be so changed and new moulded, 
 as to be every way suited to assist the holy and 
 happy spirit to which it is reunited, in the noblest 
 services and enjoyments. Thus, when Christ ap- 
 pears, every saint shall awake in his likeness, and 
 appear with him in glory. What a noble triumph 
 over death will this be, when every captive shall be 
 released, and every one clothed with the robes of 
 glory ! Especially when we consider, 
 
 3. They shall be fixed in a state of complete and 
 everlasting happiness. 
 
 Of this also the Scriptures of truth assure us: they 
 which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that 
 v.orld, and the resurrection from the dead, cannot 
 
 die any more ; for they are like the angels. Mor- 
 tality (or that which is mortal) shall be swallowed 
 up of life, and no traces of it left. It is a very con- 
 siderable part of the glory of the heavenly world, 
 that there shall be no more death. Some noted 
 commentators * would interpret the words here ren- 
 dered in victory, for ever, as denoting the utter 
 destruction of death. The idea is plainly sug- 
 gested in the phrase, swallowed up ; and this truth 
 is confirmed by the passages already mentioned, 
 and many more in the Scriptures, that not one true 
 Christian shall be liable to the attack of death any 
 more. 
 
 There shall be no fear of death remaining. A 
 conquered enemy may recover his strength, assault 
 us again, and prevail, at least so far as to alarm 
 and terrify us : but death is swallowed up, and has 
 no more power to overcome or disturb the exalted, 
 glorified servants of Christ for ever ; not so much 
 as one of the harbingers, or attendants of death, 
 shall ever incommode them. There is no fear of the 
 return of acute pains or pining sickness ; which 
 are often so grievous, as to dispose the heart to long 
 for death, as a relief, and be glad to find the grave. 
 Their bodies are not varnished over with an out- 
 ward lustre, but perfectly free from all principles of 
 decay. They are not only secure from external 
 violence, but full of unfading, immortal vigour. 
 Death has no power to take away, to molest, or even 
 alarm, any one of their friends and associates in that 
 better country ; but because Christ lives, they shall 
 also live, and their duration be equal to his. — 
 Finally, There shall be no painful remembrance of 
 death. A recollection of violent pains and cutting 
 sorrows often gives uneasiness : when (as Jeremiah 
 expresseth it, concerning his own misery) the soul 
 hath the wormwood and gall still in remembrance, 
 it imbitters present enjoyments. But the remem- 
 brance of death shall not be terrifying, but agree- 
 able. A comparison of the present with the former 
 state, will only tend to enhance their pleasure ; to 
 excite high admiration of that power, which pro- 
 duced the surprising change, and give peculiar 
 ardour to their adorations of that grace which pre- 
 pared them for it. — In short, the Lord of life shall 
 so entirely change the scene, that all remainders of 
 death shall be done away, and nothing shall appear 
 by which it might be known, that it ever had the 
 least dominion over any of his faithful servants. I 
 shall sum up all in the striking words of the apos- 
 tle. It doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but 
 we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be 
 like him ; for we shall see him as he is. It doth 
 not yet appear what we shall be ! No, not yet, 
 what we shall be then : for although our under- 
 standing is the distinction of our nature, and our 
 tongue the glory of our frame, the one is over- 
 
 » Vid. Grot, and Whilby in Loc. 
 
DEATH OF DR 
 
 whelmed when it labours to comprehend, and the 
 other forced into silence when it attempts to de- 
 scribe, the objects and glories of immortality. And 
 therefore, without presuming to take in the full 
 meaning of the following words — But we know, 
 that when he shall appear, we shall be like him ; 
 for we shall see him as he is. — We may venture to 
 conclude, that we shall hereafter be blessed w ith an 
 immediate, permanent, and influential vision of the 
 Lord of life and glory ; and such a vision, attended 
 with vital beams surrounding us on every side, 
 transfusing themselves through our whole frame, 
 invigorating the divine life in us, and maintaining 
 and increasing our sensible and intellectual joys, 
 must import complete and everlasting happiness. 
 
 Having thus illustrated the remarks founded on 
 the text, I am now to direct you to the proper im- 
 provement of so noble and interesting a subject. 
 Let mc then entreat your attention to the follow- 
 ing 
 
 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 1. Let us contemplate the power and grace of our 
 Lord Jesus CInist, so illustriously displayed in this 
 triumph over death. 
 
 It became him for whom are all things, and by 
 whom are all things, in bringing many sons to 
 glory to appoint his Son the captain of their salva- 
 tion, and to consecrate him to that office through 
 sufferings. He took part of flesh and blood, that 
 he might be capable of dying, and, through death 
 destroy him (or weaken, and render ineffectual his 
 influence) that had the power of death, that is, the 
 devil ; who, by his temptations, brought sin and 
 death into the world. He died to van(iuisli the 
 terrors of death, and reconcile our minds to the 
 thoughts and approaches of it. To this work he was 
 set apart by his Father and God ; and he alone was 
 fit for the work, and worthy the honour of over- 
 coming the king of terrors. And because, for this 
 end, he became obedient to death, even the death 
 of the cross, God has highly exalted him, consti- 
 stuted him Lord both of the dead and the living, 
 lodged the keys of death and tlic invisible world 
 in his hands, and given him power over all flesh, 
 that he should give eternal life to all his sincere 
 and genuine disciples. He must reign till he hath 
 put all enemies under his feet, and death, the chief 
 and last of them, be destroyed. — These (brethren 
 and fellow-christians) are the reviving truths of our 
 holy religion : let us then rejoice in Christ Jesus, 
 and glory in our relation to him, who, by his atoning 
 sacrifice, took away the sting of death, which is 
 sin, bore in his own body the penalty denounced 
 against transgressors, and by the influences of his 
 Spirit, promotes a holy temper and conversation, 
 which is the only proper qualification for a blessed 
 
 . DODDRIDGE. 1213 
 
 and joyful resurrection. We are directed to con- 
 sider him as the resurrection and the life, who is to 
 come in power and glory to judge the world, the 
 lustre of whose appearance shall penetrate to the 
 deepest grave, and whose voice shall awaken 
 every sleeping saint. — Then shall they come forth 
 to join their glorified head and Saviour, to at- 
 tend and grace the solemnity of that day, which 
 shall complete his conquest over death, and termi- 
 nate his mediatorial kingdom. — Since then we are 
 more than conquerors through him that loved us, 
 let this increase our veneration for his gospel, which 
 contains the record of eternal life ; and with an eye 
 of gratitude, love, and humble dependence, let us 
 look to Jesus the Lord of life, who, for the joy that 
 w'as set before him, of being himself highly exalted, 
 and leading on all his good soldiers to conquest 
 and to crowns, overcame the sharpness of death, 
 and is now set down at the right hand of God. Let 
 him be precious to our souls, who is the purchaser 
 and autlior of eternal salvation. 
 
 2. Let us reflect on tlie diflerenee between good 
 and bad men with regard to the consequences of 
 death. 
 
 This conqueror hath dominion over all : never- 
 theless all shall rise again. But oh ! with what 
 diflerent appearances, and to wliat dificrent states ! 
 Some shall awake to everlasting life, and some to 
 slianic and everlasting contempt. All shall come 
 forth of their graves, but with this awful distinction, 
 they that have done good, unto the resurrection of 
 life, and they that have done evil, unto the resur- 
 rection of damnation. With what horror and sur- 
 prise will the wicked lift up their heads in that 
 tremendous day, and how glad will they be to sink 
 back to rottenness, or even to nothing, from the 
 wrath of the Lamb ! But they must come forth, 
 although their bodies should be so changed, as to 
 be capable of more exquisite pain, and a more last- 
 ing duration, than their present frame will admit of. 
 They shall have their part in the lake which burneth 
 with fire and brimstone, which is the second death, 
 which shall be executed with circumstances of 
 terror and anguish, proportioned to tlieir crimes. 
 On the other hand, with what a blooming air and 
 inconceivable transport will the saints lift up their 
 heads in that glorious day ! With what unutter- 
 able delight will they leave their dusty beds, and 
 survey their empty tombs; knowing that their war- 
 fare is accomplished, and that their Lord, whose 
 approach they hail with the loudest Ilosannas, 
 Cometh to be glorified in his saints, and to be ad- 
 mired in all them that believe! Having through 
 the grace of Christ, which is suflieicnt even for the 
 weakest of his servants, overcome and been faith- 
 ful to the end, they shall not be hurt by the second 
 death, they shall not die for ever, but enter into 
 eternal rest. And do you believe, brethren, that 
 
1214 
 
 A SERMON ON THE 
 
 there will be such a vnst difliTcnce between the 
 t'utuic states (if tlic righteous and tlic wicked .' I 
 know you believe it. Inquire then, what influence 
 and effect this faith hath upon your hearts and 
 lives ; and which of these two states will be yours. 
 Let me address you in the words of the great Mr. 
 Ho« e : * " You can never justify it to God, or your 
 own understandings, to remain in a dubious uncer- 
 tainty about a matter of so vast consequence as 
 this. Unconcernedncss here is the most unaccount- 
 able thing in the whole world. This will come to 
 this issue very shortly with us, that either death 
 must, as to us, be swallowed up in victory, or we 
 be swallowed up of victorious death. With what 
 solicitude should we all concern ourselves to be at 
 a certainty !" If you would desire that strong con- 
 solation which the text exhibits, let me urge you to 
 fly for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before 
 you, to be daily exercising repentance tow ards God 
 and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ, to redeem 
 your time, and make a wise improvement of the pre- 
 sent life. Thus you will finish your course with joy, 
 and when this earthly bouse of your tabernacle is 
 dissolved, you will have a building of God, a house 
 not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
 
 Lastly, Let the servants of Christ be calm and 
 resigned, in the view of their own death, and when 
 their pious friends are removed. 
 
 One would think there should be no occasion for 
 such an exhortation as this, to any who love our 
 Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, and have peace with 
 God through him. One would naturally suppose, 
 that in the fulness of their hopes and joys they 
 would desire to depart, and it would be necessary 
 frequently and strenuously to urge them to wait 
 patiently for the coming of the Lord. One would 
 think, that instead of sorrowing as those who have 
 no hope, for them that sleep in Jesus, they should 
 rather rejoice for the victory they have gained, and 
 the honour to which they are advanced. But alas I 
 such is the unreasonable and unhappy influence 
 which present things have upon our minds, such is 
 the w-eakness of our faith and hope, so languid is 
 our love to Christ, and so injudicious our affection 
 to our friends, that we are loth to remove ourselves, 
 and unwilling to part with them. God knew it 
 would be so. He knows our frame, and remembers 
 we arc dust, and therefore pities us, and has laid 
 in such a stock of encouragements in his word, to 
 counteract the bias of nature, and to correct the 
 errors of sense. Let us then (brethren) enter into 
 the spirit, and admit the force, of them. Remem- 
 ber, that although the combat may be sharp, and 
 the apprehension grievous, yet the victory is sure. 
 The enemy has been often vanquished, and 'tis 
 only a single feeble effort he can possibly make. 
 Fear not, (says the Redeemer,) I am he that livcth 
 
 * IIowe'8 Works, vol. ii. page 422. 
 
 and was dead, and am alive for evermore, and have 
 the keys of death and the unseen world. Fear not 
 this formidable enemy. He has slain his thou- 
 sands ; slain, did I say ! rather, he has obtained 
 some little advantage to his own irreparable loss 
 and their everlasting gain. Though he strips you 
 of the body, yet (to allude to St. Paul's words) you 
 only part with it for a season, that you may receive 
 it for ever, improved and beautified, and no more to 
 see corruption. Let every sincere Christian en- 
 deavour, from such considerations, to reconcile his 
 mind to the approaches of death, and wish to en- 
 counter this last enemy, as a brave soldier does to 
 enter upon an action, which he has the greatest 
 reason to believe will finish the war, put an end to 
 all his fatigues, perils, and terrors, and bring re- 
 pose, honour, and reward. Frequently meditate, 
 O Christian, on that glorious morning, when thou 
 shalt awake, burst the bands of death with sweet 
 and inexpressible surprise, arise with ten thousands 
 of thy fellow-saints, and meet thy Lord with songs 
 of triumph, and everlasting joy upon your heads. 
 Then shall he applaud thy resolution and labour, 
 fidelity and patience, before his Father, the angels, 
 and the assembled world, and give thee a crown of 
 glory that fadeth not away. 
 
 Let these considerations also support our minds 
 when our pious and valuable friends are removed. 
 
 In this view the apostle urges them, If we be- 
 lieve that Jesus died, and rose again, even them 
 also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him; 
 the dead in Christ shall rise first, and the saints 
 then alive (being changed) shall be caught up toge- 
 ther with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in 
 the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord. 
 Wherefore comfort one another vvith these words. 
 And surely no words can be more full of consola- 
 tion. Our pious friends departed have gained the 
 victory, and are present with the Lord. And though 
 we are left behind in a world, which is at best a 
 tiresome place, and less desirable since they were 
 removed from it ; yet we hope ere long to be re- 
 stored to them, to converse with them upon more 
 agreeable and advantageous terms, and spend an 
 eternity together. If we are followers of them who 
 through faith and patience inherit the promises, 
 God will quickly call us to come up to them, arid 
 send a convoy of angels to fetch us to the world of 
 spirits ; and perhaps the first objects we may meet 
 with there, may be some of our most intimate 
 friends, sent to congratulate our safe arrival, and 
 conduct us to the appointed mansions. And oh ! 
 with what joy and transport shall we meet them, 
 and be welcomed by them ! The small space of 
 time the separation has continued, and in which 
 we have known the sorrow of living without them, 
 will endear them to us, and increase our bliss. 
 Especially when we consider that there is no fear 
 
DEATH OF DR. 
 
 of another separation, that the destructions of the 
 enemy are come to a perpetual end, and that death 
 has yielded up all his power ever to divide us more. 
 
 Let me particularly apply these consolations to 
 you, my friends, on occasion of the sore breach God 
 has made upon you. What joy has it already been 
 to your late worthy and pious pastor, to meet so 
 many of his flock in the regions of the blessed, to 
 whom be administered these precious consolations in 
 their last moments, and smoothed their passage to 
 heaven ! What joy will it be to him to receive one 
 and another of you, who have obeyed the gospel, to 
 be partakers of his felicity ! What a delight w ill it 
 be to him to receive your thanks for all his labours of 
 love for the good of your souls, and join with you in 
 adoring that grace, which wrought effectually for 
 your salvation ; to which grace, you well know, he 
 constantly ascribed his abilities and success ! What 
 joy will it afford you to meet him there ; to inform 
 him more fully than you can now do, what pleasure 
 and improvement you have received from his labours 
 while he lived, and his writings, by w hich, being 
 dead, he is still speaking to you, with the most se- 
 rious and affectionate address, and the most insinu- 
 ating eloquence ! And with regard to him, and all 
 your brethren, who shall at length meet in our 
 Father's house ; how will mutual joy flow from 
 heart to heart, when every enemy is conquered, and 
 the tyranny of death at an end ; to be for ever in- 
 structing, improving, and entertaining one an- 
 other ; to recount your many struggles, temptations, 
 and victories ; and trace out the wondrous steps by 
 which you were conducted to this happiness ! Those 
 friendly dispositions will be carried to the height, 
 conversation will never grow dull, and social enter- 
 tainments never cloy. Fresh delight will be spring- 
 ing up in his soul and yours through eternity; in 
 observing each other's improving knowledge and 
 holiness, and sharing together in the smiles of the 
 Redeemer, and the work and happiness of heaven. 
 
 After such comfortable thoughts as these, I have 
 very little heart to renew and increase your sorrows 
 and my own, by entering into any particulars of the 
 character of that great and good man, wliom God 
 has removed from us. Nor is it necessary I should ; 
 as he has been so long among you, and so faithfully 
 and constantly watched over you. I may appeal 
 to you all, that you have fully known his doctrine, 
 manner of life, purpose, faith, long-suflering, cha- 
 rity, patience, persecutions, and afllictions, and his 
 care of the churches. He has been labouring among 
 you with unexampled diligence, and unwearied 
 zea!, above twenty years, with increasing honour, 
 comfort, and success. Notwithstanding his other 
 most important relation, as a tutor, and the weight 
 of business he continually had on his hands, he was 
 in labours for your souls abundant ; w arning, en- 
 couraging, and comforting, with all the marks of a 
 
 . DODDRIDGE. 1215 
 
 deep sense of religion upon his own soul, the most 
 tender afl'eetion to you and your families, and the 
 utmost solicitude for your everlasting welfare. The 
 same disposition he carried with him in all his 
 visits, and mingled the seriousness and piety of the 
 Christian minister with the politeness of the gentle- 
 man, and the freedom and cheerfulness of the friend. 
 His great concern for the rising generation, was 
 manifested in his discourses on education from the 
 pulpit, and the press, and his most all'ectionate ad- 
 dresses to your children in his catechetical lectures, 
 and occasional visits. Ye know how heartily and 
 compassionately he entered into your personal and 
 relative afllictions ; how many disconsolate hearts 
 he has made to rejoice by his liberality, his coun- 
 sels, and his prayers. Ye know his faithfulness 
 and gentleness in brotherly reproof, and the exercise 
 of godly discipline. In a word, ye know that, to his 
 power, and (unhappily for his family, for you, and 
 other churches) beyond his power, he went about 
 doing good, piously devising, and with the most 
 resolute application executing, so many generous 
 designs for the public good. — Ye are w itnesses, and 
 God also, how much his public addresses were 
 illustrated and enforced by his own temper and con- 
 duet, and how holily, and justly, and unblamably, 
 he behaved himself among you.— By his writings 
 (the value of which will, I am persuaded, be con- 
 tinually increasing) the world will judge, what a 
 pastor God had favoured you with, and how very 
 well you have been fed and taught for so many 
 years. And they will naturally and justly expect, 
 that you should be wise and judicious Christians, 
 and eminent for every brancli of the Christian tem- 
 per. And great will be your guilt and your shame 
 if you are not. 
 
 But, beloved, I am persuaded better things of you ; 
 and my persuasion is founded partly on my own 
 knowledge of your temper and character, and part- 
 ly on the solemn testimony your late pastor has 
 borne to the goodness of them, in a passage in his 
 last will, which he desired might be communicated 
 to you on this occasion, and which I mention w ith 
 pleasure, as it is at once for your honour and your 
 admonition. Speaking of his intention of being in- 
 terred in the place of your meeting, he says, "where 
 I have spent the most delightful hours of my life, 
 in assisting the devotions of as serious, as grateful, 
 and as deserving a people, as perhaps any minister 
 had ever the honour and happiness to serve ; cheer- 
 fully persuading myself, that, when I am dead, they 
 will hear me speaking in my writings with all due 
 regard ; and making it my last request to them, that 
 those of them who have, or can borrow, my Family 
 Expositor, will read it over in their families once at 
 least, beginning the Lord's day after my funeral ; 
 and that they would also read over in their families, 
 on Lord's-day evenings, all my sermons which they 
 
1216 
 
 A SERMON, &c. 
 
 liave, or can borrow, especially those on Regenera- 
 tion, those on the (I lory and Grace of Christ, the 
 Sermons to Yoinif;' Persons, and that on tlic One 
 Thing Needful ; and I <lcsirc that every parent tliat 
 can procure them, would read in their retirements, 
 my Sermons on the Education of Children, within 
 one quarter of a year at least after my death. And 
 I make this request from an afleelionate desire of 
 Ihccdilication and salvation of souls; and an humble 
 hope that, in consequence of it, I may glorify God, 
 even when I am laid in the dust." 
 
 I hope, my friends, you will pay a serious and 
 constant regard to this his last request, out of grati- 
 tude for his services, and veneration for his memory ; 
 from a concern for your own further credit and 
 comfort, and a desire to increase his joy, and your 
 own, at the day of the Lord. 
 
 As to you (my brethren and friends) who were 
 more immediately under his eye and care ; God has 
 taken your master from your head. And you will 
 naturally adopt the mournful words of Elisha, when 
 he had lost his tutor Elijah, My father, my father, 
 the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof ! He 
 was indeed a father to you : and I believe there are 
 few of us, who have had the advantage of being his 
 pupils, have found more real affection and tender- 
 ness, and a warmer concern for our welfare, in our 
 natural parents, than we have found in him. You 
 remember his quickness of apprehension, and re- 
 markable felicity in the despatch of business, and 
 yet his most exemplary improvement and redemp- 
 tion of time. You know how faithfully he devoted 
 his time and abilities to your service ; how freely 
 he communicated to you out of those large stores of 
 knowledge with which God had furnished him ; 
 how fairly and candidly he proposed arguments and 
 objections on every topic on which he lectured ; 
 what pains he took to make you eminent Chris- 
 tians, able ministers of the New Testament, and 
 scribes well instructed unto the kingdom of heaven. 
 You will, I am persuaded, join with me in acknow- 
 ledging (to the praise of God) that our acquaintance 
 
 with him, and relation to him, has been our hononr 
 and our happiness. May you and I remember his 
 paternal counsels, prayers, and example, that 
 (through a supply of the Spirit of Jesus) we may be 
 fitted for eminent usefulness in the church, and may 
 do honour to his memory and instructions ! 
 
 It is but a just tribute to the worth of eminently 
 wise and useful men, and of great advantage to 
 survivors, to display at large the virtues of their 
 character, and point out the means by which they 
 became so eminent ; and I am not without hope, 
 that justice may hereafter be done, in some distinct 
 account, to the distinguished abilities, eminent 
 character, and extensive usefulness of the late 
 reverend and learned Dr. Doddridge, who shone so 
 conspicuously in the relations of a minister and 
 tutor, and whose writings are in such general 
 esteem. In the mean time, what has been said con- 
 cerning him, may serve to excite you all to aspire 
 after a temper and behaviour becoming your rela- 
 tion to him, whose removal, in the vigour of his 
 faculties, we so justly, and shall so long, lament; 
 and, to add greater weight to the solemn exhorta- 
 tion of St. Paul to the Philippians, which, upon 
 this occasion, I would address to you all : Those 
 things which ye have both learned, and received, 
 and heard, and seen in him, do ; and the God of 
 peace shall be with you. 
 
 To conclude ; God has seen fit to call home his 
 good and faithful servant ; and given him not only a 
 calm, but a joyful, dismission from the labours and 
 suflferings of life, and enabled him thereby to 
 triumph over death. And when we recollect the 
 words we have been meditating upon, and this fresh 
 seal to the truth and the comfort of them ; and 
 when by faith we look forward to that weight of 
 glory reserved in heaven for us, and our pious 
 friends ; let us even now join in the apostle's 
 triumphant song, and say. Thanks be to God, which 
 givcth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 Amen. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 BUNGAY: STEUEOTYPED AND PniNTED DY J. R. & C. CHILOS. 
 
Pnncelon Theoloqical Seminary b^^^ 
 
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