3.^0, o.c Srom t^e feifirari? of (pxoftBBox ^imixm Otiffer (J)a;rton, ©.©., ££.©. ^resenfeb fij? (^rg. (Jjarton to f ^e feifirarg of (Princeton tUofo^caf ^emindr^ Panned bvMimKo riurtan A.R:^A Engrived ly E^hraraEuiron ^^a^^^^t^^. [ilNH'.lHCIl WIIIIAM (M.IIIIAWr k .'ION:'.. IL'HI jiait ; DISCOURSES BY THE LATE REV. JAMES PEDDIE, D.D. MINISTER OF THE UNITED ASSOCIATE CONGBEGATION OF BRISTO STREET, EDINBCKGH. WITH A MEMOIR OF HIS LIFE, BY HIS SON, THE REV. WILLIAM PEDDIE, D.D. EDINBURGH : WILLIAM OLIPHANT AND SONS. LONDON : HAOTLTON, ADA5IS, AND COMPANY. GLASGOW : DAVID ROBERTSON. MDCCCXLVT. MURRAY AND GIBE, PRINTERS, EPINBURGU. ELDERS AND MEMBERS OF THE VNITED ASSOCIATE CONGREGATION OF BRISTO STREET, EDINBVKGH. THESE DISCOURSES OF THEIR LATE REVERED PASTOR, ORIGINALLY PREACHED TO THEMSELVES OR THEIR FATHERS, TOGETHER WITH THE PREFIXED MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED HY IIIS SON AND COLLEAGUE. PREFACE. This volume is published in compliance with a strong desire very generally expressed for some such ]Memoi"ial of tlie Author. The Sermons contained in it have been faithfully transcribed and printed from his Manuscripts ; and these are written with so much accuracy that very few verbal correti- tions have been necessary. The volume, however, appears under all the disadvantages ordinarily attending posthumous works. None of the Sermons, with perhaps a single excep- tion, were intended by the Author for the press. They wei-e written in the ordinary course of his ministry ; and very i'ew of them re-written or i-e-touched at any subsequent time. It was considered desirable to furnish specimens of his manner at diiferent periods of life. The style and struc- ture of these Sermons will therefore be found to be consider- ably various. In making the selection, attention has been paid to variety in the subject-matter, so as to render the volume as interesting and useful as possible. But from necessity the selection was regulated chiefly by the state of completeness in which the several Discourses were found. Tlie Author was much in the habit, when he wrote the main pait VI PREFACE. of a Di.scourse, of simply jotting the line of illustration wliicli lie meant to .pursue in the remainder. It will easily be per- ceived that this circumstance, notwithstanding the number of Manuscripts, considerably narrowed the Editor's field of choice. Not a few, indeed, of the Discourses Avhich it has been thought proper to include in the selection, are incomplete. But their merits in other respects will, it is believed, more than com- pensate for the unfinished state in which they appear, and fully justify the insertion of them. Considerable disappointment will, it is probable, be experi- enced in some quarters, on finding that this volume does not embrace any of the Author's Expository Lectures. For an explanation of the circumstances which have made it impos- sible to gratify the very natural Avish on the part of many persons to be possessed of some specimens of these, the reader is referred to what is stated in the following Memoir. The simple truth is, that Dr Peddie never wrote his stated Lec- tures on portions of Scripture, except for a short time after the commencement of his ministry : and it must be apparent, that to give to the public, what was composed at that early period befoi'e he had acquired experience, would be to do injustice to his distinguished reputation in this highest and most difficult department of pulpit instruction. It was deemed inexpedient to republish at present any of the writings which he had given to the world during his life- time. It is proper, however, to state, that the substance of part of the thirteenth and fourteenth Discourses, was published long ago by the Author in a volume of the Christian Magazine. PREFACE. \11 The substantial identity of these Discourses with the papers referred to, was not observed, until the arrangements connected with this volume were too far advanced, to admit of being altered without inconvenience. The fugitive pieces known to be from his pen in the periodical now mentioned, and else- where, of which some account is given in the following Memoir, would form, if collected, a valuable and interesting volume. The future publication of some such collection, or of a second volume of Discourses, for which ample materials exist, must depend upon the reception which may be given to the present work. With respect to the Memoir, the writer may be allowed to express a hope that it will be found to contain a faithful delineation of his father's life and character. He entered upon the task fully conscious of the difficulties attending it, arising from the partialities of near relationship. It may be, that a fear of overcharging the likeness which he attempted to draw, has led him into the other extreme, of understating what was worthy of admiration or esteem in his deceased parent. Though he supposes the sketch to contain little to attract the attention of the religious public generally, he ventures to believe that some portions of it may prove inter- esting to Seceders, and in particular to the members of his own congi'egation, for whom this volume was certainly primarily intended. At the same time, he trusts that the narrative is in no respect disfigured by the spirit of party. It affords him satisfaction to think that the Portrait prefixed to the work, will be generally acknowledged a very striking Vlll PREFACE. i-epresentation of the original ; and a peculiarly happy effort on the part of the talented brother artists who were encaged in it. He commends the volume to the favourable regards of the Churches, and to the blessing of the Divine Redeemer ; and offers it as his earnest prayer, that it may be the means of continuing after death the usefulness of one wlio very diligently served his generation while he lived. W. P. 57, George Square, Edisuurgh, 12th November, 184G. CONTENTS. Page MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, 1 SERMON I. THE INCARNATION AND ITS DESIGN. ACTION SERMON. MARCH 21, 1790. Hebrews ii. 14. — " Forasmuch, then, as the children were partakers of flesh and blood, lie also liimself likewise took part of the same ; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil," .....••• 1^1 SERMON II. THE GOSPEL FEAST. ACTION SERMON. SEPTEMBER 3, 1797. Matthew xxii. 4. — "Tell them which were bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner : my oxen and fatlings are killed, and all things are ready ; come unto the marriage," .... 155 SERMON ni. THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. ACTION SERMON. FEBRUARY 12, 1815. 1 John ii. 1. — "If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous," . ' . . . . . 171 AbDRESS at THE CoMMUNION TaBLE, ..... 186 SERMON IV. THE EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. PREACHED AUGU.ST 20, 1815. 1 Peter i. 24, 25. — "For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of the grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away: But the word of the Lord endureth for ever," • I'Jl X CONTENTS. SERMON V. NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. P«ge ACTION SERMON. FEBRUARY 18, 1817. "t" John xix. 25. — " Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magda- lene," ......... 205 SERMON VI. THE BURIAL OF JESUS. ACTION SERMON. SEPTEJIBEE 4, 1814. Matthew xxvii. 59, 60. — "And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean hnen cloth, and laid it in liis own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock ; and rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed," ..... 221 Address at the Communion Table, ..... 239 SERMON VII. THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. ACTION SERMON. NOVEMBER 10, 1816. Luke xxiv. 32. — " And they said one to another, Did not our hearts burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and opened to us the Scriptures?" ....... 242 SERMON Vni. THE CHILDREN OF GOOD INIEN FORSAKING THEIK FATHERS' WAYS. PART I.— PREACHED OCTOBER 9,1814. 1 Samuel viii. 3. — " Ami his sons walked not in his ways," . . 260 SERMON IX. THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN FORSAKING THElIi FATHERS' WAYS. PART II.— PREACHED OCTOBER Ifi, 1,'<14. 1 Samuel viii. .3. — "And liis sons walked not in his ways," CONTENTS. XI SEEMON X. THE BREAD OF LIFE. Page ACTION SERMON. NOVEMBER 10, ire2. -f John vi. 35. — "Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of Ufe," . . 284 Address at the Commfnion Table, ..... 306 SEEMON XI. REDEIMPTION THE GROUND OF UNIVERSAL JOY, action SERMON". MAY 8, 1796. -V IsAiAH xliv, 23. — " Sing, O ye heavens ; for the Lord hath done it : shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein ; for the Lord hatli redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel," ..... 311 SEEMON XII. THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. ACTION SEEMON. MAY 11, 1794. -^ John xvii. 4. — " I have finished the ivork which thou gavest me to do,"' 338 SEEMON Xni. THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. PART I.— PREACHED APRIL 18, 1790. j^ John xiii. 7. — " What I do, thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt know hereafter," ........ 363 SEEMON XIV. THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. PART II.— PREACHED APRIL 25, 1790. . John xiii. 7. — " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter," ........ 378 SEEMON XV. GOD'S PRESENCE WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. PART I.— PREACHED SEPTEMBER 11, 1791. jr IsAiAH xhii. 2. — "When thoupassest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee," . S'J-i XU CONTENTS. SERMON X\^. GOD'S PRESENCE WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. PAET II.— PREACHED SEPTEMBER 18, 1791. Page _y Isaiah xliii. 2. — " When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the ri^'ers, they shall not overflow thee," . 411 SERMON XYU. THE COMPANY AND CONVERSATION ON TABOR. ACTION SERMON. MAY 12, 1799. Ltke ix. 30, 31. — "And, behold, there talked with him two men, which were Moses and Ehas ; who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem," . . . 4-'5 SERMON XVin. THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. PREACHED AUGUST 2, 1829. ^ Matthew xvii. 5. — " While he yet spake, behold a bright cloud over- shadovred them, and behold a voice out of the cloud, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him," . 444 SERMON XIX. THE EFFECTS OF YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. PREACHED JANUARY 4, 1829. ^ Jon xiii. 26. — " Thou \yritest bitter things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth." ..... 4.59 SERMON XX. THE SPIRIT'S TESTIMONY CONCERNING THE DEAD IN CHRIST. PREACHED ATTGTJST 15, 1790. llEVEL.iTioNS xiv. 13. — " And I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord : Yea, saith the Spirit," ........ 472 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. James Peddie was born at Perth on tlie 10th of February 1759. He was baptised on the following day, which Avas a Sabbath, according to the custom prevailing in those times, of having the ordinance administered as soon as possible after birth ; and he was named after his father, a respectable brewer in Perth, whose house and place of business were in the Highgate or High Street, immediately opposite to what is known as the Guard Venn el. His mother was Ann Rattray ; a widow at the time of her marriage to his father, who also himself had for some time been in a state of A^^dowhood ; a woman of superior appearance, discernment, and prudence, and a member of the congregation, then under the pastoi'al care of the Rev. John Jervie, in con- nexion with the Associate or Burgher Synod. Their union was the occasion of a change which had for some time been meditated in his father's religious profession. Originally con- nected with the General Associate or Antiburgher branch of the Secession in Perth, he had become dissatisfied with that body in consequence of what he considered their severe treat- ment of those who, like himself, did not scruple to take the burgess oath on admission to the freedom of the city. He therefore indicated his intention of leaving that body by accom- panying his wife, on the Sabbath after their marriage, to her accustomed place of worship. The consequence of this decisive step was an immediate breach with his relations and friends, who were strongly attached to the opposite party. And il may be related as an instance of the tenacity ^yiih which, in A 1 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. those days, party distinctions -were held, and of the excessive bitterness, which was too often allowed to niingle with religious controversy, that, from the moment of his apostacy (as it was regarded) his nearest friends not only withdrew their counte- nance, but abandoned intercourse with him. The subject of this memoir used to relate, that such was the alienation pro- duced, that, until he was considerably advanced in boyhood, he had never seen an uncle of his own, who lived only a few miles from Perth, and that he then saw him only once or twice when he visited his father's house Avithout the knowledge of his other relatives. That generation has long since passed away ; and there can be no harm in now recording what, it is believed, was not an unparalleled instance of the spirit of bigotry and undue zeal, which imhappily characterised the religion of our pious ancestors. Good were it for us, however, if, when we have cast oflP, as we suppose, some of the glaring faults of the worthy men of that age, we could firmly retain their numerous and lofty virtues. Dr Peddie was the only son of his parents. He had a half brother, a delicate boy, the fruit of his father's first marriage, who only survived, however, till about his ninth or tenth year. He had also an only sister, who, at an early age, was respect- ably man*ied in the vicinity of Kinross ; and who, being soon deprived of her husband, removed Avith an only child to Edin- burgh, where she spent the remainder of her days under her brother's ministry. Of his early years few facts are known. He possessed the advantages of a wise, affectionate, and pious education. His father was a plain, humble, and truly godly man, upright and honourable in his dealings, and regular in family ordinances, as well as in the other duties of religion ; while his mother, of whom he always spoke with peculiar reverence and affection, combined in her character strong sense and much knowledge of the world mth sterUng piety. Under the judicious care of these excellent parents, he was brought up from his earliest years in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. At what MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 6 time a saving change was wrought upon his mind we are unable to tell. It is believed that, like the good Obadiah, he feared the Lord from his youth : and probably, as in the case of many other pious persons who have enjoyed similar youthful advantages, the precious seed of divine truth, sown in infancy, took root in his heart, and grew up so imperceptibly and gi'adually, that he himself was not conscious of any great and sudden change. This is the more likely if his constitutional character be taken into account ; for he is known to have been quietly disposed in childhood, to have been rather soft and bashful hi his manners, and to have had no relish for the com- pany of the wild and wicked. In after life he was never heard to allude to any particular time as the period of his conversion to God ; and, indeed, he manifested, perhaps in excess, what is understood to be a characteristic of the more deep-minded and thoughtful of Scottish Christians, extreme reserve on the subject of his secret exercises. Only one anecdote is known of his early years which has any reference to youthful impressions, and which he was wont to relate with all the naivete and point which distinguished his reminiscences of former days. Wliile at the grammar school of Perth, a boy of very different disposi- tions from his own, a thoughtless and daring youth, into whose society, however, he was sometimes thrown, having on one occasion been unexpectedly worsted by him in one of their youthful sports, passionately struck him with such violence that, under the provocation of the moment, he uttered something very much resembling an oath. The other, surprised by the novelty of such an ebullition from him, exclaimed with delight, " That James Peddie was swearing ! " This, he said, was an arrow in his conscience, made him more earnest than usual that night in his prayers, and gave him such a horror for swearing, that he never afterwards was guilty of aught approaching to it. Among the incidents of his early life, it may be deemed sufficiently curious to record, that a wealthy neighbour of his father, a good man, who happened to be childless, taking a fancy for him when a boy, proposed, with great seriousness, to 4 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. adopt him as his son, and receive him into his house, with the promise of leaving him his fortune. But his parents were not to be bribed by an offer of the kind, liad it been even much more dazzhng, to part ■\\'ith their only boy. They were in easy circumstances in life ; and they were animated by the honour- able ambition, so often to be found in this country among persons in their station, to give their son a liberal and thorough education ; a principle this, to which the church of God and the seats of learning have been indebted for some of their brightest ornaments. The teacher to whom he was first intrusted was one of the name of Reoch ; at that time con- sidered the best teacher of English in Perth, and who was afterwards succeeded in the same vocation by his son. He had acquired, however, at home, before being put under the care of this person, which was about the sixth year of his age, the rudiments of English, and had even taught an ignorant servant girl of his father the letters. At school he made rapid progress, standing ordinarily at the head of his class ; and he began to discover more and more of a bookish and inquiring disi^osition, devouring with avidity every kind of knowledge that came within his reach. His own stock of books was very limited ; but he Avas supplied with others by a juvenile acquaintance, whom he recompensed for such good offices by frequently aiding him in his lessons. From under the tuition of Mr Reoch, lie passed to the Grammar School, or High School, of Perth, where he acquired the elements of the Latin tongue. There were in that seminary three stated teachers, a Rector and two assistants ; the junior handed over his pupils to the senior, and the senior in his turn to the Rector. Through these classes he regularly ascended Avith the same marked sui)eriority, as at the English school, over all his competitors. But ho had sense and spirit enough, though a boy, to complain that he Avas prevented from making the progress, of which he Avas easily capable, by the dullness of his felloAV-scholars, and the sluggish habits of tlie teachers. He Avas, therefore, finally withdrawn from the Grammar School, to be placed under tlie MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. O care of a private teacher, a cousin of his own, Andrew Peddie, by whose exertions and his own diligence, he was cai-ried rapidly forward to a very competent knowledge of the Latin. The system of education pursued at the Grammar School appears to have been indeed very AVi'etched ; and not a few barbarous customs, the relics of a former age, still lingered there as in most of the schools of Scotland, to the disgi-ace of the schoolmasters and the detriment of the scholars. What would be thought now-a-days of the boys at a burgh school having regular fights with game-cocks at which the masters should preside? or of Candlemas oiferings received by the master in the chair, and applauded by him in a vocabulary graduated according to the liberality of the donors, — the well understood price of favour toward those fortunate pupils whose parents happened to be richer, vainer, or less penurious than their neighbours ? ^ After leaving the school kept by his cousin, being thought still too young to go to College (he was now, however, in his fifteenth year), his parents sent him to Perth Academy. This he always regarded as a fortunate step for him ; exceedingly beneficial in its effects upon his mental habits. The academy was then taught by Mr Hamilton, subsequently Dr Hamilton of Aberdeen, the author of the well-known Essay on the National Debt ; and under the superintendence of this excel- lent teacher, he laid the foundation of an accurate and pretty extensive acquaintance with the exact sciences, in which, by the natural structure of his mind, he was well fitted to excel. He attended Mr Hamilton's classes only one season ; but during that period he became a considerable proficient in arithmetic, algebra, logarithms, in the elements of mathematics, with their practical application to mensuration, navigation, and dialling, and in geography. It was then, in particular, that he con- tracted a strong liking to the latter science, for his compre- hensive attainments in which he Avas afterwards frequently ' For an illustration of the above, see Tait's Magazine, August 1841 . 6 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. noted. Dr Peddie has seldom, we imagine, been equalled in a knowledge of geography. There was no place on the surface of the globe, however obscure, respecting Avhich anything was known, of which he did not seem able to give, at any time, with great readiness, some tolerable account. We have been told that a gentleman who had returned fi'om a residence in some part of our East Indian possessions, happening to engage in conversation with him, was so struck with his minute knowledge of the particular spot, as to be tempted to put the question, " How long were you in India, Sir?" He took deep interest in the progress of geographical discovery, to which during his long life so many and valuable additions were made : and he showed his predilection for this department of know- ledge even in the decline of life, when his faculties were weakened and benumbed by infirmity and age. The family, knowing this to be the bent of his mind, felt it an aiFecting circumstance, when, after his death, a small map of Abyssinia was found carefully folded up in his pocket, vnth the marks of recent study, which he had by that time exchanged for a vicAV of the better country, even the heavenly. On concluding his course at the Perth Academy, when it became necessary to decide what should be the direction of his future life, he was strongly solicited to become apprentice to a surgeon in his native town : and he himself hesitated for some time ; but his mother, who had penetration, as well as fondness enough, to discern the promise which he gave of more than ordinary talent and piety, had in secret devoted him to the christian ministry. She was not spared to see the son of her vows engaged in this work of the Lord, as she died during his first session at College ; but his father survived to enjoy that pious satisfaction. How early in life he conceived the idea of giving himself to the service of God in the gospel of his Son, Dr Peddie did not remember; but his resolution, he said, was fixed before he went to College, and he never deviated fi'om it. Whether he had joined the fellowship of the church before commencing his University course, is not known. But we MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 7 remember him to have stated, that he had entered a society of godly people in Perth, who met once a week for prayer, before he was fifteen years old, on condition that they would not insist on his being more than a heai'er for some time, as he was then, he said, afraid of hearing his own voice. There is eveiy reason to believe, that his purpose to prepare himself for sacred office was formed at once under impressions of the fear of God, and upon cool deliberate reflection. We are well aware that mere circumstances may give birth to such a resolution in a youthful mind; it may spring up and be fostered by the suggestions of friends or of ambition ; and by a kind of necessity the indi\ddual may be impelled forward in the course, which has thus been entered upon under a mixture of motives, to whicli piety contributed a very moderate share of influence, and fi'om which an enlightened view of future responsibilities, difficulties, and trials, was altogether excluded. But we are certainly not proceeding upon bare conjecture, in affirming that the con- siderate caution, and prudent forethought, which afterwards marked Dr Peddie's character, were already his predominant qualities ; and that religion, wisdom dwelling Avith prudence, was the principle which governed his choice. To the rectitude of his motives there is the subsequent attestation of a whole life, by universal consent singularly free fr'om blemish, and of a long ministry, which God crowned with no ordinary tokens of approbation and success. He entered the University of Edinburgh at the commence- ment of the winter session 1775-76. The full curriculum in literature and philosophy, prescribed to those who are looking forward to the ministry in the Secession Church, was not at that period so rigidly enforced upon students as at the present day. And as he conceived that, by his private studies, and his course at Perth Academy, he had realized all the advantages to be gained by an attendance at the younger classes in the University, he passed over these, and entered the more ad- vanced; the Senior Mathematics under Dugald Stewart, then a very young man, and just commencing his brilliant academical 8 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. career; the senior Greek under Professor Dalzell, and the Logic under Professor Bruce, who was newly appointed to the Chair, and who afterwards held the lucrative patent of King's printer for Scotland. Moral philosophy he studied under Dr Adam Ferguson, and Natural philosophy under John Robison; he also attended the Hebrew class, then taught by James Robertson, the author of the Cla\'is. We regret that we cannot furnish any notices of him while passing through these classes, that could be interesting to any beyond the circle of his family. At the time of his academical career there were not, we believe, as there are now, any of those prizes or other marks of distinction conferred that are supposed to encourage excellence. But there is enough of evidence to make it appear that he gained, both with his teachers and his class-fellows, " the reputation of a diligent and successful student." Among the latter, at least during one session, and also among his personal friends, he numbered Dr John Jamieson, the learnedantagonistof Priestley, and author of the Scottish Dictionary, ultimately a co-presbyter, and esteemed fellow-labourer in the same city. And if we may select any other name from among his early associates, all now buried in the dust, but not a few of whose names, we trust, are registered in a brighter and more enduring than any earthly record, the pleasing recollections of our oAvn childhood and youth would prompt us to pay this passing tribute to one, Avith whom he contracted a close and intimate friendship, which lasted through life ; the Rev. Patrick Comrie, of the Associate Congi'egation of Pennycuick, so well known and so highly esteemed in the denomination, to which they both belonged, as a man of genuine wit and humour, as well as of sterling sense and piety, and who possessed the gift, rare with those Avho are similarly endowed, of never indulging his peculiar vein so as to transgress the bounds of the strictest propriety, uselessly to wound another's feelings, or to stain the purity or degrade the dignity becoming the Christian and the divine. In the summer of 1777, having been examined regarding his proficiency in philosophy and the learned languages by the MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 9 Associate Presbytery of Perth and Dunfermline (tlie Rev. Mr Shirra of Kirkcaldy presiding), lie was by them admitted to attend the Divinity Hall, then under the superintendence of the well-known Rev. John Brown of Haddington. The Hall, at the time of his attendance, never numbered more than thirty students, two of whom were from the sister church in Ireland. But these young men were only the more intimate and endeared to each other by their being few in number. Brought together in a small country town, year after year, during the pleasant season of autumn, and thrown much upon each others' society, with common vicAvs, pursuits, and recreations, they were a band of brothers. And the venerable man of God, who directed their studies, was among them as a parent. They were lodged in the houses of pious people, belonging for the most part to JMi* Brown's own con- gregation ; and he often visited them in their own rooms, sometimes very early in the morning, with a degi-ee of famili- arity which never impaired their feelings of respect. The theological library, which was instituted in 1770, was kept in the professor's house, and JMr Peddie, having had the care of it assigned to him by his fellow students, was from this, and other circumstances, brought more than the rest into inter- course AAdth Mr Brown. He thus enjoyed the advantage and pleasure that were to be derived from the conversation of such a man. He found that, among other stores of self-taught know- ledge, Mr Brown had acquired two modern languages, the French and the Dutch, but without having had the means of learning their correct pronunciation. This, so far as related to the French, it was the pleasing task of the pupil to com- municate. He obtained from Mr Brown many anecdotes ot the olden days of the Secession, and of his own history, which, even if they could be accui-ately given, it would not consist with the limits and design of this memoir to record. We may mention, however, that among the qualities in that good man, which drcAv his regai'd, was his extraordinary industry. An early riser, and a great economist of time, Mr Brown was 10 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. industrious, he said, beyond what the constitutions of most men would be capable of enduring ; and he gave the following instance. About the time of Mr Brown's ordination, Avhich was soon after the great division in the Secession, knoAvn by the name of the Breach, the supply of preachers in the Associate Synod happened to be very inadequate to the demands of the vacancies. The presbyteries of the body, in order to meet the exigency, refused to settle young ministers, except upon con- dition of their being absent from their charges every third Sabbath, in order to preach in other places. The congregation of Haddington was compelled, along with others, to submit to an arrangement of this kind for the space of a year and a half after the settlement of their young minister. Yet within that period of time, besides preaching two Sabbaths in his own pul- pit, and every third Sabbath elsewhere, and on each occasion a new discourse ; besides examining twice his congregation, which Avas not indeed large, but Avidely scattered, and per- forming the other pastoral duties; this indefatigable man found leisure to pursue a course of private study, one item of which Avas reading through and actually abridging the Universal Hi,-:tory into six manuscript volumes. John Brown of Haddington was indeed an excellent example of AA'hat may be achieved by dint of industry and perseA'erance. Dr Peddie thought, that the very great attainments, which he had thereby made, led him to place a value upon vm-e labour, Avhich so far injuriously affected his mode of tuition. It AA'as his custom to require his students to A\Tite out the System of Divinity (idtimately published by him), which he had first read to them as lectures, and then coj^ied out tAvice or thrice with his OAvn hand for their use. This requirement Dr Peddie regarded as uuAvise, since the time, consumed in the manual exercise, might have been turned to better account, if ex- pended in some other way. But he submitted to the task, Avhile he reckoned it a drudgery ; though he did not imitate some of the students, Avho enhanced the irksomeness of it, by Avriting out at full length not merely the author's OAvn matter, MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 11 but the texts of scripture, of Avhich the work contains a jiro- fusion. The result remains in his library in three octavo volumes, written in a fair hand, a monument at least of obedience to a preceptor whom he loved. Perhaps he derived more advantage from the labour than he himself imagined. There can at least be no question (and this no one could be more Availing than he to acknowledge), that the course of training at Haddington was, as a whole, eminently efficient and suc- cessful. Our church was never adorned by a race of ministers more fully accomplished for the real work of their important office than those of the Haddington school. They Avere scribes instructed unto the kingdom of heaven, men thoroughly gi'ounded in the system of divine truth, doctrinal and prac- tical ; an attainment which, however it may be decried by those who do not possess it, is essential to the skilful and easy handling of the word of righteousness. Dr Brown most truly describes his grandfather " as a teacher who is uniformly re- presented by his students as having possessed, in an uncommon degi-ee, the power of securing for himself the affections, as well as the respect of the young men committed to his tuition, in addition to that of conveying to them clear views of christian truth, and deep impressions of the reality and importance of vital religion. Dr Peddie," he says, " through life, was accus- tomed to speak of the seasons of study spent at Pladdington as among the happiest portions of his life, and cherished to the end the most affectionate veneration for the memory of his tutor. His tutor," he adds, " on the other hand, early disco- vered the superior powers, the solid attainments, and the firm character of his pupil, was accustomed to speak of him as one of the most promising young men ever under his care, and cordially rejoiced when he saw him called to occupy a place, for which he knew that his talents peculiarly fitted him."^ Mr Brown is reported on one occasion to have said, " that he did not know whether he had been of much sei'vice in his genera- ' " Heaven, a Sermon delivered on occasion of the deatli of the Rev. James; Peddie, D.D., by John Brown, D.D." 12 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. tion, but he was happy that he had been the means of bringing up four young men for the ministry, Andrew Swanston,' George Lawson,^ David Greig,^ and James Peddie."" While a student of theology, Mr Peddie began to imbibe those vieAvs respecting the magistrates' power in matters of religion, which afterwards came into keen discussion in what was denominated the Old Light Controversy. The doctrine of the Westminster Confession on this subject had not hitherto been publicly questioned in the Secession ; although certainly in tlie testimony emitted by the Associate Presbytery in 1743, as in subsequent documents, and, indeed, in the Confession itself, there are assertions made, fatal to the large power there claimed for the magistrate over the church and in spiritual things. But the peculiar position occupied by Seceders in consequence of their separation from the church established by law, was highly favourable to the adoption of right views of the spiritual nature of Christ's kingdom ; and was sure, sooner or later, to conduct them to the denial of principles, which had only to be put in force to cause the suppression of their oaati body. The pro- gress of truth Avas, however, slow at a time when it was the tendency, more strongly than now, to adhere blindly to views received by tradition from the fathers. Under the prevailing ' Referred to in a subsequent page. -' Afterwards the Synod's Professor of Divinity at Selkirk. ■' Minister of the Associate Congregation of Lochgelly, Fifesliire, and for a long period clerk of Synod, a man of mucli piety and moral worth, and endowed with a mind of the highest order, but who lived and died in com- parative obscurity. ' This accredited testimony of Mr Brown's esteem we cannot refrain from quoting, — " Pulchrum est laudari a laudato;" yet there were certainly, besides the worthies mentioned above, other individuals, educated at Had- dington, whom even filial partiality does not persuade us to place on an inferior level to the subject of this memoir ; men whose names are embalmed in the memory of the church, on which they threw a lustre while they lived ; neeil we mention such admired and distinguished cliaractcrs as the sagacious and persuasive Husl)an(l of Dunfermline, the generous and eloquent Hall of Edinburgh, the gifted and large-hearted Waugh of London, or the classical and clear-headed Dick, the theologian of the Secession, not to speak of the Professor's own pious and useful sons. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 13 strictness of religious profession, individuals were afraid to think for themselves, and, when they did so, afraid to commu- nicate their sentiments. It was the casual perusal of Locke on toleration to which Dr Peddie Avas Avont to ascribe his first doubts regarding the soundness of the Westminster belief. The new leaven began about the same time to spread among the students. None of them doubted the lawfulness of a union between Church and State ; it was only the compulsory or persecuting poAver ascribed to the office of the magistrate whicli they Avere disposed to impugn. IMr Brown, Avhen advised of the circumstance, Avas deeply offended and grieved. To those Avho are acquainted with his Avi'itings, it need not be stated that he Avas a decided and keen assertor of the magistrates' poAver in religious things ; and that, perceiA'ing the untenable- ness of any middle ground, he carried out the principle to its legitimate consequences, and distinctly condemned toleration. In his zeal to guard the hall against the infection of error, he prelected on the doctrine, as the students were disposed to think, with more than necessary fi*equency. He CA^en chal- lenged the suspected heretics to produce objections to his views. It is related, that on one of these occasions, IMr Peddie, prompted by his felloAv-students, Avho were piqued by the professor's reiterated demands, did venture to suggest some difficulties which beset their minds upon the subject. If tlie magistrate, he asked, was authorised and empowered to pre- serve the truth pure and entire, and to suppress all blasphemies and heresies, how AA-^as he certainly to distinguish betAA'ixt truth and error ? And Avhen the ordinary reply AA^as given, that it Avas his duty to judge by the rule of scripture, he insisted that this Avas only shifting the question ; for that, " fully admitting all men to be bound to folIoAV the scriptures, yet the scriptures seem to one man to say one thing, and to another to say another, while each is bound to foUoAV his conscience ; so that toleration would appear to be necessary, unless there Avere a pope to determine the truth ; the magistrate cannot infallibly discover the truth any moi'e than other men, his office investing 14 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. him with no peculiar qualifications for the purpose." Unable, as may well be imagined, to dispose of an objection Avhich, indeed, cannot be met, Mr Brown replied, with a degree of warmth, that if these were the sentiments of his pupil, the sooner he relinquished the study of divinity the better. This of course put an end to all proposal of objection on the part of the now repentant students. We narrate the incident chiefly for the purpose of adding, that the good man, conscious of having been betrayed into asperity, instantly showed his regi-et by returning to more than his wonted kindness of manner ; and that, so far from withdi*awing his favour from the principal culprit, he showed him, more strongly than ever, marks of the most partial attachment. It is somewhat amusing, however, to know, that, at the conclusion of the session during which the above-mentioned incident took place, when allotting, as was the custom, to the students, portions of the Confession of Faith as subjects of lecture, the particular portion which he assigned ISIr Peddie was the 23d chapter, which treats, as our readers need scarcely be informed, of the controverted doctrine ; and no less amusing to be told, that, when the season for delivering the appointed exercise came round, the lecturer expatiated so largely upon the fii'st two sections of the chapter, that, before he could enter on the third, where lies the knot of the question, and the matter which the Professor had in view, the time allotted for an exercise of the kind had expired ! It may be mentioned, that while attending the Hall, Mr Peddie was supposed, at one time, to be in danger of that in- sidious disease, which, in this country, blights so many youthful hopes, and in none more frequently than in the rising ministry — consumption. He was attacked by cough, and spitting of blood ; and was strongly recommended to suspend his studies. He persevered, however, and the symptoms of the complaint, if not from the first, as we suspect, illusory, at least very soon disappeared. From that period, however, he dated a singidar change in the structure of his voice, which, from being shrill and weak, became remarkably deep and strong. He was thus MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 15 pi'epared, in the providence of God, for the station which he was destined to fill, as the minister of a very large congi*ega- tion. Exempted by his father's worldly circumstances from the necessity of teaching, or engaging in other employment, Avith the view of adding to his means of support, he enjoyed more leisure for study than falls to the lot of many, who are preparing for sacred office ; and he most diligently improved his advantage. He was during the whole of his course, in the fullest sense of the expression, a student, and a student ot theolog}'; and by his persevering assiduity, he laid up those ample stores of knowledge, from which himself and the church of God afterwards reaped so much advantage. We have heard him state, that of the five sessions, of nine weeks each, prescribed by the Synod's regulations, as the term of attendance at the Divinity Hall, he lost by absence, only three-quarters of an hour, on one solitary occasion ; together with the concluding lecture of the last session. This, too, was occasioned by the necessity of travelling to Kinross, in obedience to an appointment of the same Presbytery, by whom he had been recommended to the study of theology, in order to undergo, on the day following, the usual examination before entering on trials for licence. Having performed these trials to the satisfaction of the Presbytery, he was licensed on Tuesday the 6th of February 1782, as a pi*eacher of the everlasting gospel. But this, it is proper to state, was not done until he had fully explained his views, or rather his doubts, regarding the compulsory and intolerant principles seemingly taught in the Confession, to a committee of Presbytery, appointed to converse with him on the subject ; and had made them distinctly aware of the exceptions vdth which, on that point, his assent was to be understood as given to the doctrine of the Standards. By this step he guarded his conscience and his honour from the impu- tation of insincerity. But he never ceased to regi-et, that he did not insist upon an explicit marking being made in the records of the court, of the qualified nature of the subscription which he gave. From ademand to this effect he was prevailedon to recede; 16 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. and probably, in part, by finding, as he did to his surprise, that the members of committee shared in hisoAvn views of the matters in debate, or rather were affected with the same scruples. Along with him, there were licensed by the Presbytery of Perth and Dunfermline (but whether under similar conditions, we have not had the means of ascertaining), two of his college and hall companions ; Patrick Comrie, who has ah-eady been named ; and David Hepburn, a native, like himself, of Perth, and afterwards minister of the Associate Congregation of Xewburgh, Fife. Eight young men passed the same ordeal that year in other presbyteries of the body ; and the eleven, who were thus licensed to give trial of their gifts to the churches, being the largest number who had, as yet, issued from the Hall of the Associate Synod, in any one year, as preachers of the gospel, received the name, by which they were long popularly known in the Secession, of " The Grand Fleet." Of this number, all of whom, sooner or later, were admitted to the pastoral office, and most of whom were permitted long to edify the church by useful labours,^ the palm of general and high popularity, as a public speaker, was merited by one, with whom Mr Peddie, through life, continued on terms of intimate friendship, Robert Jack, afterwards Dr Jack, minister succes- sively of the congregations of Linlithgow, Greenock, and Manchester. To him, the epithet assigned to Bates by the common suffrage of his contemporaries, was eminently appli- cable, " the silver tongued." His discoui'ses, which in them- selves were highly respectable, derived, as he delivered them, a peculiar charm from an easy and graceful elocution, in one of the sweetest and most melodious voices, to which it was ever our fortune to listen. The subject of this memoir cannot be said to have owed ' The following are their names, and the congregations over >¥hieh they were respectively ordained : — Jedediah Aiknian, Perth ; James Serimgeour, North Berwick ; William Haddon, Limekilns, near Dunfermline ; John Jaffray, Dalkeith ; John Smith, Newcastle ; William Watson, Kilpatrick, and John Thomson, Ayton ; together with the four who are mentioned above. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR 1 7 the notice and esteem, which he very soon attracted, to tlie external graces of manner. His manner in the pulpit, though by no means ungainly, and though marked by the firmness, dignity, and gravity, which belonged to his character, Avas too simple and plain, to captivate or strike. His personal appearance was highly prepossessing; he was tall, manly, and blooming ; but there was, we have been told, a degree of hesi- tation, and an occasional embarrassment in his mode of de- livery, in the outset of his career as a preacher, which, to some extent, marred the effect of his public appearances. His dis- courses, however, were admitted to possess rare merit. They were not only eminently judicious, evangelical, and adapted to purposes of practical utility, but they were distinguished by much of the accuracy of thought and language, the natural arrangement, the ingenious turns, and the clearness, spirit, and point, which were more fully developed in the productions of his matured powers. " The counsel of God was declared by him with a plainness Avhich met the apprehensions of ordinary capacities, and with a dignity which commanded the respect, and secured the approbation, of the more intelligent part of every audience." We may safely say, that no description of hearers could listen to him long, without being sensible of the truth and weight of his reflections, perceiving the masterly manner in which he divided the word of truth, and feeling their confidence very fully established, in the sagacity and soundness of his j udgment. His great power in lecturing was, from the beginning, acknowledged. This was a mode of instruction in which he delighted, and for which by natural genius he possessed a peculiar facility. But he himself thought, as he told the writer of these lines, that he derived his first conception of what a lecture ought to be, fi'om listening, while a student of theo- logy, to AndrcAV Swanston. The Associate Congregation of Perth were repeatedly favoured with the ministrations of that accomplished, amiable, and lamented young man. Mr Peddie greatly admired his style of pulpit instruction, which far 18 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. excelled any thing to which he had before been accustomed : and, indeed, a better model for a young preacher it would be difficult to find than the chaste, simple, and beautiflxl dis- courses contained in Swanston's published Eemains.^ It was in the pulpit of his intimate fi-iend, Mr, afterwai'ds Dr Husband, of Dunfermline, and on the same week on which he was licensed, that Mr Peddie preached his first public sermon. The charge in the congregation of Dunfermline, then one of the largest in the connexion, was collegiate ; but IVlr Husband, by the death of his colleague, the Kev. John Smith, had been left sole pastor ; and was exceedingly desirous, with the view to the filling up of the vacant charge, to direct the attention of the people to the talents of his young friend, of which he had conceived the highest idea. His very eager- ness, it is likely, to accomplish his object, defeated itself. He engaged Mi- Peddie to preach in Dunfermline, not only on the second day after his license, but on six other occasions, suc- cessively, before he had at all proved his powers. Had he allowed him first to acquke a little experience elsewhere, Mr Husband would probably have succeeded better. A king's fast-day, the last of those fasts which were held during the continuance of the American war, 8th February 1782, was the occasion on which Mr Peddie began his course. The text and the sermon were appropriate. He preached from ' These consist of two volumes, with a biographical notice prefixed, from the pen of liis friend INIr Greig, of Lochgelly. Mr Swanston was a son of the Rev. Jolin Swanston, the Synod's professor of theology at Ivinross, ami was a person of high talent, of most engaging manners, and of fervent piety. He was greatly and justly beloved. Dr Lawson is reported to have said, that " next to Jonathan he believed him to be the most amiable man that ever lived." He was, however, sensitive and fickle in his opinions on some lesser points of doctrine. After being a preacher for some time in the Secession, he embraced the Independent views in church government, then joined the Anti-Pa'dobaptists, and finally, from some further change of opinion, left their communion. He died a young man, with these words on his lips, " All is well, all is well." When Mr Brown, of Haddington, who was strongly attached to him, heard of the event, he said, " Andrew Swanston has found a church to his mind now." MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, 19 Ezekiel xxi. 9, 10 : " Son of man, prophesy and say, Thus saith the Lord, say, a sword, a sword is sharpened, and also furbished, it is furbished that it may ghtter ; should we then make mirth ? " He introduced himself in a manner at once pertinent and striking ; the thought being this : that those who are commissioned to preach the gospel are appointed to proclaim peace, but that the circumstances of the speaker to whom they were listening, called upon him to commence his public preaching in a different manner, crying, " A sword, a sword is sharpened, and also furbished, &c." The congrega- tion of Dunfermline ultimately gave him an unanimous call ; not, however, till a twelvemonth had elapsed ; and too late to obtain his settlement among them, as by that time his ordina- tion in Edinburgh had been appointed, and the Presbytery refused to sist procedure. "When in the com'se of his first appointments as a preacher, he was sent to his native city, he experienced, in part at least, the truth of the Scripture proverb, that " a prophet hath no honour in his own country." Many, indeed, in the Associate Congi-egation of Perth, who had known his conversation from his youth, showed that they held him in high esteem ; for a moderation was immediately asked, and obtained, with a vicAv to invite him to be colleague to their pastor, the Rev, John Jervie. But on the day of moderation, a party who had sprung up in the interval, and made active exertions in opposi- tion to the views of his friends, carried the election in favour of another candidate, the Rev. George Hill of Cumbernauld. And though a protest was immediately taken against the pro- ceedings, and signed more numerously than the call itself, so that the Presbytery refused to sustain the latter, yet an attempt in his favour was not renewed. He went from Perth in fulfilment of his appointments to Dundee and Aberdeen, thence to the west of Scotland, and thence to the neighbourhood of Edinburgh. The life of a preacher in the Secession was in those days, still less than now, a life of ease. His journeys were uniformly performed 20 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. on horseback, those accommodations, which now render travel- ing so easy as well as rapid, being then unknown. We find from a jotting in one of his note-books, that during the first seven months of his appointments, he rode as many hundred miles. In some of the remoter stations connected with the Synod, the accommodation provided for the preachers was rude in the extreme. When giving an account of his pro- bationary tour in the north of Aberdeenshii-e, he said, we remember, that he composed some of his discourses in a wretched hovel, assigned for his lodging, where the only aperture for admitting the light served the additional purpose of a vent for the smoke. But in these wild districts the people, though poor and untaught, were kind and hospitable after their fashion. And his happiness was secured by his heart being in his work. His reputation, in the mean time, was gradually rising and becoming established over the church ; so that when he returned to the south, several vacancies showed a disposition to move in his favour. The congregation of Dalkeith, in particular, was on the eve of inviting him to take the oversight of their souls, as colleague to their venerable minister the Rev. William Hutton. This design, however, was arrested by the report that a call was to come out in his favour from the Associate Congi'egation of Bristo Street, Edinbui'gh ; the importance and peculiar circumstances of which at the time Avere thought to preclude, on the part of other congregations, the hope of successful competition. Bristo Street Congregation was at that time the only one in Edinburgh and Leith belonging to the Associate Synod. The charge was vacant, in consequence of the death of their minister, the Rev. John Patison. ]Mr Patison had been called to the office, soon after the A\dthdrawal of their first minister, the Rev. Adam Gib, along with that part of the people who, at the breach, adhered with INIr Gib, to the Anti- burgher view of the question. Mr Patison's ministry con- tinued to midsummer 1779, with equal credit to himself, and advantage to his flock. He has been represented as a man MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 21 " distinguished for the dignity of his deportment and the kind- ness of his heai't;" and very favourable evidence remains, at once of his literary acquirements, and his enlightened zeal for religion, in his prefaces to " M'Ewen on the Types," and " M'Ewen's Essays," two posthumous works of the ingenious and lamented author, which were published under his care. The congregation of Bristo Street had, during his ministry, enjoyed a large share of prosperity and peace ; but soon after his death, it was thrown into flames, and torn by the spirit of faction. Two parties were formed, and party heats were in- dulged, which the repeated intervention of the Church Courts failed to allay. In a society so circumstanced unanimity in the choice of a pastor was not to be expected. In truth, the candidate on whom the one party hajipened to fix their ajBfec- tions, was, for that reason, opposed by the other ; so that no less than five calls, all of them contested, and all of them fi-uitless, had been given to different respectable ministers before the sub- ject of this memoir appeared as a preacher among them. It would probably not interest, it would still less edify, the generality of our readers, to detail the circumstances attending these various calls, the protests by which they were accom- panied and followed, and the painful and protracted discussions, both in Presbytery and Synod, to which, at many meetings, they gave birth. The object of the first call, we may briefly state, was a man who enjoyed the affectionate respect of all his contemporaries in no common degi'ee, and whose memory is still cherished in the hearts of many, especially in the place where he spent his pious and useful life, the Rev. Michael GilfiUan of Dunblane;^ and the second call was addressed to another of the excellent men of that generation, who united in his character, in a remarkable manner, the accomplished scholar and the good minister of Jesus Christ, the Rev. James Scott of Musselbuj'gh. By a rare coincidence, Mr Scott pre- sided at the moderation when this call came out in his own ' A pleasing account of this wortliy man may be found in " Sketches of Life and Character," by the late Dr Belfrage of Falkirk. 22 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. favour ; and on this ground, we believe, though surely with- out adequate reason, the Synod set it aside as improper. After these successive, disappointments, the congregation re- newed its call to INIr GilfiUan, but without success ; and then repeated it, but Avith no better result. Their fifth attempt to obtain the benefit of a fixed ministry was in March 1782, when the choice of the majority fell on the Rev. Alexander Waugh, then minister of NeAvtown, near Melrose, but under call to the Associate Congregation of "Wells Street, London. The provi- dence of God had destined Dr Waugh for the latter sphere, where he remained so long a burning and a shining light in the church of God. When the two calls came before the Synod for judgment, the call fi-om Edinburgh was, on the ground of some alleged informality about the delivery of reasons of transportation, not alloAved to come into competi- tion, and the call from Wells Street was prefen-ed. It was soon after this period that Mr Peddie, for the first time, officiated in Bristo Street, 1st September, 1782. He lectured in the morning on the parable of the Publican and the Pharisee, Luke xviii. 9-14. So deep an impression did this discourse make on many of his most judicious hearers, that they afterwards acknowledged, that they had fully made up their minds, before it was ended, that the young man before them should be their pastor ; a resolution which all his subse- quent appearances seemed to them only to justify. On the second Sabbath of his appointments to Bristo (which extended to three), his place was, with his consent, occupied part of the day by the Rev. James Hall of Cumnock, afterwards Dr Hall of Rose Street, then a popular young minister of about five years standing, who happened at the time to be in Edinburgh in attendance upon the Synod, which was sitting. It soon appeared that the affections of the people were divided betwixt Mr Hall and Mr Peddie, vnth the exception of a few persons, who preferred Mr Jack to either ; and that each party would bring into play all the bitterness which their former disputes had unhappily engendered. A moderation was, nevertheless, MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 23 asked and obtained. A frequent custom in the Secession, at that time, was to hold a congregational meeting prior to a moderation, with a vieAV to the reducing of the leet, as it was called ; and at a meeting of this nature, in Bristo Street, at which INIr BroAvn of Haddington presided, the name of Mr Jack was agreed to be dropped, so that the choice now lay betwixt the other two candidates. On the day of moderation, Mr Brown again presided, the 22d of October 1782. He took for his text, Acts i. 24, " And they prayed and said, Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men, show whether of these two thou hast chosen." Those whom the result of the moderation disappointed, afterwards alleged, not only that the Moderator had, at the preliminary meeting, shown an improper partiality for the younger candidate, but that this was apparent even in his sermon ; for that, while describing the character and qualifications of a minister, he had not only evidently pointed out IVIi* Peddie as the Matthias to be chosen, but had allowed reflections to escape him which were tmdoubtedly levelled against the other competitor. These allegations were by the other party indignantly repelled. On which side the truth in this matter lay, which was abundantly discussed at the time, even from the press, and became a matter of synodical inquiry, we are not concerned to decide, and, indeed, are saved the necessity. For if, at this distance of time, any of our readers feel an interest in the matter, arising from relation- ship to the parties, or what they may have heard from their fathers, they have the means of judging for themselves ; as the sermon, which was the subject of these animadversions, was afterwards published by the author. It is fervid in style, and full of useful matter, and is entitled, " The Necessity and Advantage of Earnest Prayer for the Lord's special direction in the choice of Pastors, vnth. an Appendix of Free Thoughts on the Transportation of Ministers." The election was conducted by the calling of the roll ; and it issued in favour of Mr Peddie by a small majority ; " a scrimp majority," to use the language of the documents ; a majority of 24 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. one, according to some of the disappointed party ; a majority o^Jive, according to the official person, to whom was intrusted the marking of the votes. The moderator accordingly declared INIr Peddie to be the person chosen, and the call when filled up. received the signatures of 500 members ; all of whom, it may be mentioned, "with one solitary exception, eventually pre-deceased the object of their choice. The congregation consisted, at the time, of 800 members, so that, even had the vote been doubtful, the call afforded decisive indication of the mind of the people. But the minority, as on former occasions, refused to acquiesce. Submission to the will of the majority, which their principles bound them to, would have been a triumph to the adverse party, and to them a defeat. By every means in their power, they endeavoured to prevent the sustaining of the call, and to deter 'Mr Peddie from accepting it. They petitioned, remonstrated, protested, appealed; but the Presbytery were of opinion, that a regard to constitutional order, as Avell as to the best interests of the congregation, required them at this crisis to be firm, and to take immediate steps for giving effect to the mind of the majority. They sustained the call, and em- ployed all their influence to secure Mr Peddie's acceptance of it.' ' In intimating to him the appointment of his ordination, the Clerk of the Presbytery, INIr Mutton, tlius wrote to Mr Peddie — " Our attachment to our principles, the edification of the church, and the necessity of giving a check to a clamorous and contentious spirit, together with the mournful state of the congregation, being long as sheep without a shepherd, constrained us to take this important step with the utmost despatch. I hope you will see it your duty, and be convinced of the clearness of your call, to take the over- sight of this people, and to submit to the decision of the court to which you are subject. You will not want temptations to resist our sentence, but I hope you will view them in no other light than that of dangerous temptations. Think on the consciiuences of a Presbytery convening in vain to ordain you, of a congregation convening to fast and pray upon the occasion, — of setting up this poor afflicted people to the ridicule, not oidy of this metropolis, but the nation itself. A word to a wise man is enough. Be not moved by the difficulties which you see in your way. It's the work of the Head of the Church to make mountains in the way of duty to become a plain. 1 think you have the call of God to this place, notwithstanding of all the noise and clamour of some contentious people. May I be allowed to exhort you to MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 25 Few young men have ever been placed in more trying circum- stances, than those which he now occupied. He had received a call, which he had dreaded rather than desu-ed, to a station of influence in the Church. " Consequences of a very important kind obviously hung upon his decision, not only to himself, and to the only metropolitan congregation, at that time, con- nected with that division of the Secession, but to the general interests of the body." On the one hand, he naturally hesi- tated about assuming the charge of a congregation so disturbed ; and on the other hand, he di'eaded being the occasion of per- petuating and aggravating a strife already sufficiently pro- tracted and embittered. His declining the call, it was certain, was not to make matters better ; his acceptance could not make them worse ; on the contrary, it might be the means of saving fi'om utter rviin a congregation, which had been respectable, till the spirit of discord entered it. Should all but those who signed the call leave the congi*egation, these would be amply sufi&cient, at once for his pastoral inspection, and his temporal support. After serious deliberation, after the delay of his trial discourses for a number of months, and after repeatedly preach- ing to the congregation, he became fully persuaded that it was his duty to accept ; and having once taken his resolution, he went forward with characteristic courage, to adopt the neces- sary steps for carrying it into effect. There was, indeed, enough to terrify one of less nerve than he possessed, in the bitter opposition that was manifested to his settlement up to the very moment when it took place. On the day preceding it the Presbytery sat till midnight, labouring to reconcile the people ; but with so little effect, that when, on the following day, they sat again, to receive the edict, trust in him who sends none a warfare on their own charges, and to believe his gracious promise, ' As the days are, thy strength shall be.' May the Lord direct you to your duty — may he light your candle, and make it shine brightly — may a double portion of the gifts and graces of the Holy Ghost be given you— may he make you an able minister of the New Testament, a faithful steward of the gospel, and an eminent blessing to this congregation." B 26 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. as it is termed in Presbyterial language, and had sent the beadle to intimate, according to custom, that if any had objec- tions to offer, they behoved to present themselves, so very many crowded to the place of meeting that they could not all find admission. It soon appeared that none had a syllable to utter against the life or doctrine of the person called ; to which, the objections, that are admissible at this stage, in proceedings of the kind, must, by the law of the church, be confined ; the ground of quarrel was only the call, that it was not in their view a gospel call, seeing the majority, though real, was " scrimp." But the Presbytery justly held that such an objection could not then be entertained, as the call had already been pronounced valid, — in the language of the courts, sus- tained ; and that while what a majority is, was plain, what makes a majority " scrimp," there was no rule to determine. In these circumstances, and after more than an hour beyond the appointed time had elapsed, the ordination proceeded — on the 3d of April 1783. He was then set apart by solemn prayer, and the laying on of the hands of the Presbytery, to the office of the ministry, and the pastoral care of the congre- gation of Bristo Sti'eet. Here it is proper to notice, that the occurrences which have been detailed, had made no little noise in aU the surrounding congregations. These were fewer in number than they now are, and their members not only more isolated from the general population, but accustomed to take a much deeper interest than is now taken in each other's concerns. Sixty years have made a great change in this respect, in the Secession church, and, perhaps, a change to be lamented. That esprit cle corps, which animates small bodies, has, in regard to our church, been greatly diminished since the days of our fathers, by its own growth, by the growth of other denominations, by the increase of the general peculation, as well as by the greater variety of subjects which now engross men's minds and conversation, in politics, science, and business. The congrega- tions, it is said, of the whole surrounding district, took sides, MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 27 on the subject of the dispute which agitated the congi-egation of the capital, as theii- respective connexions with the parties there happened to sway them. And a curious instance of this is related : that when the Rev. James M'Gilchrist of West Linton, who had been appointed to preside in the ordination, was about to. leave home for that purpose, the people in his neighbourhood, having, as it happened, generally embraced the \'iews of the minority who were opposed to the settlement, he could find no one vsdlling to furnish him with the means of conveyance. The duty assigned him had, therefore, to be discharged, in his absence, by another who was present, the Rev. John Low of Biggar ; a man well qualified by his ready powers for an exigency of the kind. The business of the day was commenced by Mr Jack, then lately ordained over the congregation of Linlithgow, in a ser- mon from 1 Cor. 15, 10, " His gi-ace which was bestowed on me was not in vain." Mr Low having preached from 2 Tim. 2, 15, " Rightly dividing the word of truth," presided in the ordination, giving the usual address to the pastor and the congi-egation ; and the Rev. John Brown of Whitburn, then a minister of four or five years' standing, concluded the solemn serWce by preaching from Psalm Ixxxix. 15, " Blessed is the people who know the joyful sound." The custom now is for a young minister to be introduced to his people, on the Sabbath after ordination, by a brother who is more advanced ; commonly by the minister under whom he has been brought up. But this custom is of recent date. Mr Peddie commenced his labours on the Lord's day after ordina- tion, by himself lecturing on Jer, i. 1-10. This passage was singularly appropriate to his cfrcumstances; expressive at once of his solicitude and of his encoui'agements. " Then I said. All! Lord God, behold I cannot speak, for I am a child. But the Lord said. Say not I am a child ; for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I com- mand thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of their faces, for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith the Lord." His sermon 28 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. in the afternoon of the same day was from 1 Cor. i. 21, " For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe." From this text he again preached on the sixtieth anniversary of the commencement of his ministry ; but not the same discoiu'se (as he remarked at the time), nor to the same audience ; — not the same discourse (he said), for if his memory had ever been strong, it was now too much im- paired to recal what he had said so very long before ; and not to the same audience, for if the name of the congi-egation Avas still the same, yet the indi\-iduals who composed it were different ; and with a few exceptions, all, who were present when he commenced his ministry, had gone before him to give in their account. To the troubles that befel him after his settlement, it is necessary to allude in an account of his life ; but it shall be done generally and briefly. After that event, peace in the congregation might have been expected to ensue. Wlien the matter, formerly in debate, had been irrevocably determined, the minority, it might have been supposed, Avould cease opposition, and if not able conscientiously to submit to Mr Peddie's ministry, seek a separation from the congregation, and quietly A^'ithdraw to erect another elsewhere. But though either alternative would have smoothed his difficulties, and rendered his new charge comparatively easy, the actual cir- cumstances in which he was placed were very different ; these have not often had a parallel. The dissatisfied portion of the people did not leave the congregation, or seek for themselves a separate dispensation of religious ordinances. So obvious and easy a remedy, for an irreconcilable schism within a congregation, does not seem to have suggested itself, at least in the first instance, to the minds either of the people themselves, or of the church courts. The truth is, that a measure of this kind was unprecedented in the Secession. There was no toAvn or neighbourhood Avhere two congi-egations had been set up, in connexion with the same diA'ision of the general body; MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 29 though there was more than one congregation where the pastoral charge was double. Bent upon attaining the object in which they had been defeated, the minority remained in the congregation of Bristo Street, where they kept up incessant agitation to compass their party ends. Waiting regularly upon ]VIr Peddie's ministry, and professing to respect his character and qualifications, they yet, in many instances, treated him with great discourtesy. We shall not be tempted to a detail of what he sufiered from unkind treatment at this period of his life. And if supposed to insinuate, that the men, who opposed his ministry, were more wanting in christian character and spirit, than those who were strongly attached to it, we shall be misunderstood. There were, no doubt, on both sides in those unseemly contentions, a large proportion of truly godly men, men who loved the gospel, and who were strict and circumspect in their daily walk. But few need to be told, that, while in every religious society there are, com- monly, some unworthy persons, the demon of party, when he enters a congregation, seems able to transform good men, for the time, into bad, and to persuade bodies of men to perpetrate measures from which individuals would shrink. Without a further exposure of the spirit which prevailed, our readers can conceive how much there was in Mr Peddie's circumstances to pain his feelings, and obstruct his success ; how very difficult and trying the situation to a young man, inexperienced, sensitive, and, as he then was, bashful to a degree which those who knew him only in after life would not be ready to imagine. Seldom has a young minister been disciplined to pru- dence and temper in a school more severe than he was placed in : and few could have passed, as he did, through such an ordeal. Amid the annoyances and difficulties to which he was exposed, " he behaved himself very wisely, so that his name was much set by." The combination of sagacity, mildness, and spirit, which he displayed, produced devoted attachment to him in the bulk of his people ; who saw that he was endowed, both by nature and by grace, with a mastery over his feelings, an intrepidity, and 30 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. a singular caution, both in consulting and in acting, -which may seem scarcely compatible vidth the other qualities that have been assigned to him. He performed the public and private duties of his ministry, in such a manner as to take from those who watched for his halting every plausible ground for censure ; doing all things without partiality, and paying due attention to aU the members of the congregation, without reference to the part they had acted ; yet keeping himself remote from obse- quiousness ; for if individuals, presuming upon his youth, and evident disposition toward every peaceable method, ventured to assail him with rudeness or disrespect, they were soon taught that he possessed very formidable weapons of defence. At a meeting of the Associate Synod, which took place two months after his ordination. May 1783, the name of Mr Peddie, as a newly ordained minister, was, among the preliminaries usual on such occasions, reported by the Presbytery of Edin- burgh, and added to the roU. It seemed rather ridiculous, when the first business, which came thereafter to be discussed, was the question whether he was a minister at all : for such was actually the point in debate, arising out of a protest against his ordination, on the part of the minority, who craved that it should be annulled. Long discussions ensued ; there were meetings of committees with the parties, and various proposals were made ; one was to retire the call, and set aside the ordination ; and another to make the charge collegiate. There were attempts, out of doors, to persuade Mr Peddie to a voluntaiy surrender of the call, as an alleged method of delivering the Synod from its embarrassments ; and he was assured that this step, on his part, would certainly be followed by his being called again , in a way free from all exception and dubiety. But he properly declined ; telling the authors of this scheme, that he would keep his posi- tion as ministei', to which he had been regularly admitted, until he should be deposed, or cut off by the Synod. AMiile these discussions were going forAvard, it was noised among his people, that danger existed of their being deprived of their minister, by a vote being carried requiring him to resign liis MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 31 call. A crowd immediately collected around him, and indig- nantly urged him to disown the Synod's authority, and exclude them fi'om the place of meeting ; they were assembled in Bristo Street Church. A paper was hastily drawn up, and put into his hands, empowering him, in the name of the congregation, to take this strong step, should the result of the deliberations be the foolish and unjust measure that was dreaded. There can be no doubt that had he yielded, or given any countenance to the excessive irritation of the people, some unseemly rupture with the Synod must have ensued. After much contention, however, matters took a different turn, and the business issued in a variety of findmgs ; first, with regard to the conduct of the moderator in the call, and the conduct of the Presbytery in sustaining it ; and then, in regard to the call itself, to the effect that there was a clear majority in support of it, and that it should stand; but the deed further bore, that the majority should unite with the minority in a call to a colleague, namely, to their candidate Mr Hall. This was surely a preposterous arrangement ; for what pro- spect could there be of peace and happiness, in such circum- stances, either to ministers or people ? Yet, when the congre- gation took no steps to carry it into effect, it was again brought forward in the meeting of vSynod in September, and a committee was appointed to urge the people to compliance. This com- mittee failed of success ; the congregation rejected the project by a large majority, and the Synod, in May 1 784, abandoned it as hopeless. They were indeed, by that time, ashamed of it, and of the cruelty inflicted by these vexatious proceedings on a young man, who had been innocent of the origin of them, and had not voluntarily mixed himself up with them. The patience with which Mr Peddie had borne so much was, indeed, Avell nigh exhausted. Before this period, almost despairing of the return of concord and quiet, he seriously revolved in his mind the propriety of demitting his charge, and emigrating to America. This, he intimated, he would prefer to the continu- ance of a strife, that darkened all his prospects of usefulness 32 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. in his Master's service at home ; on one occasion, telling the Synod, that it was a matter of indifference to him, whether he should lay his bones in his native country, or in the new world. His demission was, in fact, -m-itten out, and carried in his pocket ; he only waited for the moment when he should see it to be his evident duty to present it. But any necessity for this step was in the good providence of God averted. After the collegiate scheme was dropped, discussions arose respecting a disjunction, and separate dispen- sation of religious ordinances to the dissatisfied minority. This subject continued, for another year, to engage Synod, Presby- tery, and Session ; and much reluctance was showTi, in these courts, to consent to the proposal. Attempts of a singular kind were made to fix the locality of the proposed new church, and to assign all the members within certain limits, I'espectively to the old and the new; — a sort of approach, it may be observed, to the parochial scheme, now so utterly abandoned in the gi'eat towns by all religious connexions ; at least, in regard to attendance on public worship ; families and individuals crossing each other in all directions on their way to the house of God, according to their respective preferences for particular ministers or con- gregations. The very attempt, however, to enforce the arrange- ment alluded to, was perhaps a proof of the strength of the cohesion subsisting among the members of the Secession body at the time ; and of the height to which ecclesiastical authority was then carried ; often, as we ai)prehend, much beyond what is essential to the Presbyterian theory, and scarcely compatible with the just liberties of the people. At length, by a deed of Synod, May 1785, the contentions of six long years were brought to a close. It was agreed, that the minutes connected with the differences should be erased ; that a disjunction from the congregation should be granted to all who chose ; that those who were disjoined, should have liberty to erect a place of worship, at an equal distance from the Tron Churcli, as Bristo Street was from it in another direc- tion ; and that until tliey could obtain a permanent house, MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 38 they should be supplied with sermon, and the regular adminis- tration of religious ordinances. Thus was laid the foundation of the large congregation of Rose Street, and from that moment perfect peace reigned in the congregation of Bristo Street. The storm, which had raged so long with unabated violence, sunk at once into a profound calm ; a calm which continued for at least thirty years afterwards, with scarcely a breeze to ruffle the surface of the waters. At the same time, the congregation began to regain its reputation with the public. This had been materi- ally injured, and the cause of the Secession along with it, by the continuance of those unhallowed disputes of which we have given a narrative. These disputes had been the standing argument of the day in favour of patronage. They were the talk, not of the city only, but of the country, and had even found their way into speeches delivered against popular elec- tion in the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. And all this could not fail to be peculiarly injurious, at a time when the Secession was the object of less fear than it afterwards became, but of more contempt. The return of tranquillity gi'adually restored the respectability of Bristo Street Congregation, and opened up the way for the increase of the Secession in the metropolis, where it has proceeded from that time forward, with continually accelerating course. The congregation of Bristo Street being, at the time when IVli" Peddie was called to the ministry, " the Associate Congre- gation of Edinburgh," drew its constituency from so extensive a district of country, that it could, with comparatively little effort, be maintained in full strength. There were no congre- gations of the same connexion nearer than Musselburgh and Dalkeith. A few months, however, before his settlement, the congregation of Pennycuick was formed, which drew off a number of families in that direction ; and some months after it, the congregation of Slateford sprang up, which cut off a very important wing to the west. A still larger portion of its members and adherents were withdrawn by the disjunction to Rose Street, or as it was at first denominated, New Edinburgh. 34 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. And these events, which for the time reduced its magnitude, were followed, at no distant intervals, by the formation of the congregations of Portsburgh and Leith ; which, at least in the case of the latter, augmented not a little the drain upon its strength, and permanently diminished large sources of supply. Yet the blanks occasioned by these repeated and extensive emigrations fi'om the parent congregation, were rapidly filled up by the abundant blessing of Providence upon Mr Peddie's diligent and faithful ministry. The original stock grew in prosperity and comfort, while the off-shoots also flourished in their measure. At the same time, his duties were in some respects materially lightened, though his charge increased. For, by the new erections, the space of country over which his flock extended, was greatly circumscribed, and the labours of pastoral superintendence proportionally diminished ; and his public cares were di\aded. When he was settled, the whole affairs of the Secession in the capital may be said to have lain on his shoulders ; for, Mv Adam Gib, besides belonging to the other branch of the body, with which there was then little intercourse, was gi-own old and infirm, and lived only five years after it. But by the establishment of sister congi'ega- tions, and the settlement of their ministers, Mr Peddie, instead of standing alone, had brethren associated with him, who were able to share in the responsibilities, and to help on the progress of the common cause. On the 1st June 1784, he had the pleasure of seeing his attached friend, Mr Comrie, settled in his immediate neigh- bourhood, among a peaceable and worthy people at Bridgend, Pennycuick. He pi-eached at the ordination on Acts iv. 31, " And they spake the word of God with boldness." In the autumn of that year, while the troubles in Bristo Street were yet at their height, he enjoyed the pleasant temporary relief from care, and the healthful recreation afforded by a journey on horseback to tlie south of wScotland, in company Avith Mr Comrie and a mutual friend. Of this excursion, enlivened as it was by the variety of scenery and adventure through which MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR 35 they passed, and by the exuberant pleasantry of his clerical brother, Mr Peddie often spoke with evident recollections of vivid enjoyment. Among other places which they visited in the course of their tour, was the encampment at Thornhill, Dumfriesshire, of the notorious Mrs Buchan and her followers, whose religious follies were at that time exciting considerable attention in the country. Curiosity led them to embrace the opportunity for an interview with this artful fanatic. Mrs Buchan was the Scottish Johanna Southcote. She gave herself out to be the woman mentioned in the twelfth chapter of the Revelation, having the sun and the moon under her feet ; the mother of the Saviour, who since his days had been hidden in the wilderness, and was never to die. She was attended by a few persons of some consideration, among others, by Mr Hugh White, one of the earliest of her dupes or accomplices, formerly the Relief minister of Irvine, and by a goodly number of persons of a lower gi-ade, male and female, most of whom had come with her from Ayrshire, and were so far on their way to the New Jerusalem. At the time when Mr Peddie and his companions visited her, she was living, she said, without food, and her followers had either already attained the same art, or were learning it, in preparation for the angelical life, and the coming of our Lord, of which they were in daily expectation. In the cottage, however, to which the three travellers were admitted, the quick eye of IMr Comrie detected the suspicious circumstance of a barrel of meal, placed in a corner. Wliat was the explanation offered, when he ventured to hint a doubt with regard to the necessity or usefulness in such cir- cumstances, and in such a dwelling, of what belonged so exclusively to the support of the life that now is, we are not informed ; and do not remember the other particulars of the interview. But it would appear that this remarkable impostor or lunatic (her real character was not unlikely a union of both), who by her flattery had drawn aside a minister of the Relief body, and who counted among her correspondents several ministers of the Church of England, conceived the 36 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. hope, that she had also made some favourable impressions on the two Seceding ministers wlio had come to see her. She wrote repeatedly to INIr Peddie after his retura, in support of her pretensions, recei^-ing of course no answer to her effusions. At length, in 1791, death set the unequivocal seal of falsehood upon her bold and impious claims. But our readers are pro- bably awai*e, that such was the surprising delusion of the Buchanites, that after their prophetess was dead, they kept her body unburied a long time, in the persuasion of her speedy return to life, until the nuisance became such as to call for the interference of the Sheriff of the county, who issued a warrant for its interment.^ Some time after the minority in Bristo Street had been dis- joined, and regularly organized as the congregation of Eose Street, they called and obtained the object of then- choice, the Rev. James Hall. Dr Hall, a man of superior talents, and of highly popular gifts, presided over that people for a long series of years, " until a difference occurred among them, which being somewhat more wisely managed, both by them and by the church courts, than that which gave origin to them as a congregation, terminated in a result gratifying to all good men, — the existence of two congregations, (Eose Street and Broughton Place), each of them, in no long time, becoming equally numerous and prosperous as that out of the division of which they originated."^ By the course of events, and the mismanagement of parties, Dr Hall and the subject of this memoir had been placed, as must have appeared from what has already been said, in the unfortunate and painful relation of mutual rivals. They would have been more than men, had none of the feelings incident to such a situation arisen in their minds. But it is pleasing to record, that as pastors of ' For a further account of the Buchanites, whose extravagances constitute a ratlier remarkable chapter in the religious history of Scotland, our readers may consult Struther's History of the Relief Church, our authority for some of the statements made above. * Dr Brown's Sermon. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 37 sister congregations, in the same city, they exhibited an uniform example of the most edifying brotherly concord ; an example which exerted the happiest influence on their respective admirers, gradually melting down those jealous and angry feelings which had grown up betwixt them dui'ing years of strife. On the day on which INIi- Hall was admitted to Rose Street, 1 5th June, 1786, IMr Peddie was among the first Avho entered the place of meeting, and stepped upon the platform ; he and Mr Hall were much associated afterwards, not only in the business of the church courts, but in every laudable and judicious scheme of christian benevolence. He stood by Mr Hall, with a generous friendship, on more than one occasion in which he was placed in cii'cumstances of peculiar trial ; and he deeply felt his death. It must be yet fresh in the recollection of many, how completely he was overcome when, on the Sabbath on which this venerable brother drew near his end, he prayed, in a voice choking wdth emotion, for the presence of God to be with him ; and with what appropri- ateness and feeling he addressed the bereaved congregation on the Sabbath after his death. On the 22d of October 1786, another of the congregations, which we have mentioned as springing from Bristo Street, received an excellent pastor, and IVIr Peddie a valuable addition to the circle of his private friends, by the ordination, at Slateford, of the Rev. John Dick, subsequently Dr Dick, minister of the United Secession Congregation of Greyfriars, Glasgow, and Professor of Theology to the United Secession Church. About that time INIr Peddie, who had prcA-iously lodged in the house of a worthy elder of Bristo Street, removed to the manse attached to the place of worship, where his widowed sister and her child, already refeiTed to, kept house along -with him; and here Mr Dick, while the manse at Slateford was building, resided under his roof. To this circumstance, and to his early intimacy with that distinguished person, Dr Peddie alludes in the sermon which he preached and published on the melancholy occasion of his death. After 38 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. declining to attempt a sketch of Dr Dick's cliaracter, he says, " A friendship of fifty-four years' standing, without one breach, is no qualification for impartiality ; and such is my case. Our friendship began when he was a boy of fifteen ; it was cultivated during our studies at the Divinity Hall ; it was confirmed by more frequent opportunities of intercourse after he received licence ; it grew to brotherly attachment, in consequence of his ordination in the village of Slateford, in my immediate neighbourhood, during the first year after which, from peculiar circumstances, we lodged under the same roof, and studied at the same table. If any thing more was necessary to strengthen our fiiendship, this soon followed, by an alliance in marriage ; and after death had torn this bond asunder, by the formation of a new union betwixt our families. A few days only have elapsed, since the chain, that had so long held us together, has been snapped asunder by the rude hand of death ; to be repaired, I trust, ere long, and remain in far happier circumstances unbroken during an endless duration." Often have we heard Dr Peddie allude to the time when he and his friend thus lived and studied in company, as a season of much enjoyment and mutual improvement ; when the severer labours, connected with their respective charges, were relieved by the interchange of sportive thought, suggested by youthful and ardent minds, as well as by the more serious communications of pious and confiding fi'iendship. He was wont to describe Mr Dick, as at that period of his life, remarkable for exuberant animal spirits, and uncommon vivacity of manner, rapid and lively in all his movements. His own demeanour, on the other hand, it is known, was distinguished by a gravity and reserve, in some measure natural to him, but which had been increased, we apprehend, and confirmed, by the caution and self-restraint to which he was trained, when he had to steer his difiicult course amid the congregational troubles that had but recently been laid to rest. It may be worth noting, that the changes of individual character, which these two friends underwent respectively, in the course of life, MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 39 seemed to be in exactly opposite directions, if we may use the expression : gaiety of manner, and impetuous buoyancy of disposition, in Mr Dick, being chastened down to a dignified re- straint or sobriety of deportment ; while the staid gi-avity, and the somewhat stern appearance of the other, gradually mellowed into ease and communicativeness, latterly into playfulness of manner. It is thus that amidst much variety and alteration of outward circumstance or peculiarity of individual character or temperament, the Divine Spirit carries on, in the children of God, the same inward work and preparation for gloiy. In the year 1787, IVIr Peddie entered into the marriage rela- tion with Miss Margaret Coventry, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Coventry, of Stitchell, in Roxburghshire, and sister of the late Dr. Coventry, Professor of Agriculture in the Univer- sity of Edinburgh, Some time afterwards Mr Dick was united in marriage to her sister, the second daughter of the same excellent minister. " The Rev. Mr Coventry," it has been justly said, " was a man of apostolical dignity and meekness of character, and was often described by Dr Waugh of London, who was brought up under his ministry, as one upon whom it seemed as if the effects of Adam's fall had not lighted." The amiable character of her father seems to have been fully inherited by Mrs Peddie, and she was a partaker of like pre- cious faith. But the union, which had been the fruit of cordial mutual esteem and affection, and was the source of much domestic comfort to her husband and herself, was destined to be of short duration. Falling into consumption, she died, in the lively hope of eternal life, in October 1792, after an illness of nine months, three of which were spent under her father's roof. The calamity was most deeply felt by her widowed hus- band. What was the state of his mind, we have not the means of ascertaining from any private record ; he did not, so far as is known, at any period of his life, keep a diary or other memorandum of passing events. But fifty years after his bereavement, when affectionately cautioning the writer of these lines, then suffering under a similar domestic affliction, he told 40 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. liim, that the wound had gone so deep as materially to affect his health, and that he had erred, as he conceived, in shutting himself too much up to his soitows, avoiding society, and drowning the recollection of what he had lost amid his books and Ids studies. But if " he sat alone and kept silence," it was not the silence of sullen discontent, but of devout acquies- cence in the will of the only Avise God ; and though other trials were added at the time to deepen his dejection, his public discourses showed that he drew secret support and consolation from an unfailing source. About the commencement of his wife's fatal illness he had entered on a series of discourses on the Being and Perfections of God ; and notwithstanding the harass- ing anxiety which he must have experienced during the progress of her illness, as hope or fear alternated, he prosecuted the plan with vigour up to the time of her death ; nor among the manuscript sermons which he has left behind him, are there any that seem to be prepared more fully and carefully, than those composing this course. But after the date of the melancholy event, there follow discourses in a very different strain. " I had fainted unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." " In the multi- tude of my thoughts within me, thy comforts delight my soul." "Ye have forgotten the exhortation, which speaketh unto you as unto children. My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, neither faint when thou art rebuked of him ; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." These are some of the precious texts for the mour- ners in Zion, from which, without indelicate allusion to his own circumstances, he sought to instruct and edify his people, while he was indulging and relieving his personal griefs. It was in the year 1788 that Mr Peddie appeared for the first time before the public as an author. The fifth of Novem- ber of that year, being the centenary of the Revolution, was generally observed throughout Scotland as a day of public thanksgiving. Two discourses preached by him on the occa- sion from Psalm cxxxvi. 3, were, in compliance with the request MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 41 of the hearers, published under the title — " The Revolution the Work of God and a Cause of Joy." They were much admired at the time, and at once established his reputation as a man of ability and cultivated taste. The general aim of the sermons is to demonstrate the peculiar agency of God in accomplishing the Revolution, and to excite a just appreciation of the blessings which that event was so signally instrumental in procuring. In the prosecution of this design, a history of the period is intro- duced, with remarkable graphic skiU, and showing extensive and minute knowledge of the facts ; while the moral and reli- gious instruction which the events convey, is pointed out with great justness and force. To us these discourses appear to be distinguished by clearness, polish, and manly ^agour, at once of sentiment and style, and by their very apposite quotations of scripture language ; while they breathe a noble spirit of zeal for civil and religious fi'eedom. A host of sermons on the same subject issued from the press at the time. " But," says the venerable Dr John Erskine, writing to a Mend in America, " none of them, except INIr Peddie's, pleased my taste." ' Having been chosen Moderator of the Associate Synod at its meeting in September 1789, he preached, as usual, at the opening of its next meeting, in May 1790. His text was. Acts xxviii. 22, " But we desire to hear of thee what thou thinkest, for, as concerning this sect, we know that everywhere it is spoken against." The sermon was an elaborate apology for the Secession. To the cause of the Secession, and in particular of that branch of it to which he belonged, Dr Peddie was devotedly attached. Though possessed of a truly catholic spirit, a lover of good men of every party, being a Presbyterian, and a Seceder from principle, he entered with peculiar zeal into everything connected with his own denomination. Few men have more completely identified themselves with whatever concerned its peace and prosperity. Throughout the whole course of his • Miller's Memoirs of Dr Nisbet, p. 196. 42 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. ministry, he was conscientiously regular in his attendance upon the ecclesiastical courts ; and his active habits, and public spirited interest in the welfare of the body, led him, from an early period, to take a large share in its general government and business. About the time at which we have arrived in tracing his life, he was rapidly rising to distinction among his brethren, and acquiring that great influence in the counsels of the church, which he so long possessed, and to which his prudent and skilful management so well entitled him. He did not speak often in the church courts, but when he did speak, he was listened to Avith eagerness, and what he said was always to the point. There were others who assumed more ostensibly the character of leaders, and whose ready utterance, if not also their other gifts, qualified and entitled them in a higher degi-ee to occupy that position. It cannot be considered invidious to name Drs Husband of Dunfermline, and Hall of Edinburgh ; both of them men of uncommon forensic ability, eloquent and skilful in debate, dignified and courteous in theu' manners. We have always understood, that these eminent fathers stood in the very first rank among the public men of the Associate Synod. But it is no less generally admitted, that though INIr Peddie came less prominently forward, there never was a member of our church courts, to whose opinions more marked deference was paid, and on whose judgment greater I'eliance was reposed. Few have ever expended a larger share of labour or time, in conducting its business, and advancing its interests. By extreme quickness of apprehension, integrity of purpose, and active habits, united with great soundness of judgment, and great caution in exercising it, he was indeed eminently fitted to be a safe counsellor, and a very useful member of civil or religious society. And it was undoubtedly a special favour of Pi'ovi- dence towards the Secession Church, and one cause, under God, of its reputation, its prosperity, and usefulness in the country, that, especially at that period of its history, some such men as he were raised up to impart a tone to the spirit of MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 4d the body ; and while they threw their wisdom into its delibera- tions, to shed their name and lustre over its proceedings. "No measure," says the historian of the Secession, "has been adopted by the Synod, which has been more extensively useful in its operation, or which has contributed more to the general prosperity of the Association, than one to which, after mature deliberation, they gave their sanction, in 1791. This was the institution of a fund for assisting weak congregations ; for giving support to aged and infirm ministers ; for defraying the expenses connected with the support of the Theological Seminary, and for other pious and charitable purposes." ' This fund originated in an overture fi-om Dunfermline Presbytery, in the year 1786. After considerable delay, and having been once and again submitted to the various presbyteries and con- gi'egations, it received the final sanction of the Synod in 1791. Mr Peddie, from the first, though then a very young minister, took a lively interest in this scheme for uniting the pecuniary energies of the body ; a scheme to which so many congrega- tions owe their revival, their growth in a state of weakness, or the maintenance of a gospel ministry among them in cir- cumstances in which that blessing could not have been other- wise enjoyed ; and by which so many pious and devoted servants of Christ have been enabled to spend the evening of their days in comparative comfort, after they have been obliged, on account of the infirmities of age, to retire from the scene of active labour. He was a member of more than one committee to whom the consideration of it was from time to time remitted, and in particular of a committee of four, who met at Queens- ferry to frame the regulations, to which he acted as clerk. By the Synod of May 1791 he was appointed temporary treasurer to the fund, and by the Synod of the following year, he was appointed permanently to occupy that office. The whole of the multifarious business, connected with its admini- stration, was managed by him gratuitously for many years. ' M'Kerrow's History, vol. ii. p. 288. 44 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. Twice he received the formal thanks of the Synod for his valuable services in this capacity ; on one occasion, accom- panied with the donation of a piece of plate. After having proved himself, in this way, an extensive benefactor of the Chm-ch, and discharged the duties of the treasurership, wdth acknowledged ability and fidelity for forty-five years, he re- signed it on account of the infirmities of age ; when the Synod conferred the ofiice on his eldest son, by whom it has since been filled. In the year 1795, Mr Peddie entered a second time into the married state. The object of his choice was Miss Barbara Smith, second daughter of Donald Smith, Esq., Banker in Edinburgh, who had the honour at a subsequent period to occupy the office of Lord Provost of the city. Mrs Peddie had, from her childhood, been brought up under the roof of her paternal grandfathei", Mr William Smith, long a well known citizen of Edinburgh, who had also enjoyed some of its ci\dc honours, as weU as great influence in the manage- ment of its municipal affairs ; but who is more worthy of honourable memorial as a truly good man, long an elder in Bristo Street, and one of those who, at the origin of the Secession, left the communion of the Establishment, and united together to form that congregation. It is related of ]VIr Smith, that on the day on which the Seceders entered their meeting-house in Bristo vStreet, 10th January 1742 (they had previously assembled in Gardjier's Hall, in the vicinity of the city), he was the instrument in the hand of Providence of, in all probability, averting extensive injury and loss of life. An alarm was created in the audience by a loud report proceeding from the gallery, which seemed to portend danger to the building, and was like to have been attended by the usual effects of such a panic. This INL* Smith, by his presence of mind, effectually prevented, instantly calling out from his seat in the front gallery, that it was only a joist gone home, and that the structure was firmer than before. On many other occasions, Mr Smith rendered valuable services to MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 45 the congi'egation. He was an elder who by faith obtained a good report ; and his sagacity, decision of character, and piety, procured him predominating influence among his brethren. After adorning his christian profession by a long and con- sistent life, he was gathered to his fathers, before his grand- daughter, whom he had carefully brought up in his principles, became the wife of the minister who had been the object of his choice, and to whom he was strongly attached. Of the union which thus took place, and how much it contributed to the comfort and happiness of the subject of this JMemoir, it does not become a son to write, while she, Avho, for upwards of fifty years, shared in all the joys and sorrows of the con- nexion, still lives to mourn its dissolution. It cannot, how- ever, be indelicate to state, that she proved herself, in the full sense of the expression, an helpmeet for her husband ; and that ha^'ing discharged with exemplary prudence, fidelity, and affection, the duties of a wife and a mother, during his years of vigour, she exerted herself " to her power, yea, and beyond her power," to help the infirmities of his declining life, and " to rock the cradle of his age." They were the parents of nine children, two of whom died in infancy, and seven survive, four sons and three daughters. From the commencement of his public life, Mr Peddie took a deep and active interest in the various pious and charitable institutions of the day. Prior to that time there were few, or none, in any part of the country, of those philanthropic in- stitutions which are formed upon the principle of uniting the activities of Christians of various denominations, and resting on the voluntary support of the churches and the public. Within the city, at least, if we except the old chartered societies, which might possibly do their work well, but cer- tainly under a close and exclusive system, all the benevolent associations for the temporal or for the spiritual benefit of the inhabitants, sprang up posterior to the time when he was settled in Bristo Street. The oldest, and not the least useful among them, the Society for the Relief of the Destitute Sick, 46 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. dates its rise two years after he had begun his ministry. He joined it about a tAvelvemonth after it was founded ; and had the honour of preaching the second public sermoil on its behalf, on the evening of Sabbath, the 25th October 1789, from 1 John iii. 17, "But whoso hath this Avorld's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compas- sion ft-om him, how dwelleth the love of God in him ? " The other societies, Bible and JNIissionary Societies, Tract and School Societies, societies with which Edinburgh abounds, for the relief of almost every species of wretchedness, were of more recent origin than the period referred to ; and he often men- tioned it with gratitude, that he was honoured to be present at the bu-th of most of them, and to watch over their interests in their infancy. It may, in this connexion, be mentioned, that he was concerned in the origination of that, not indeed strictly speaking philanthropic or religious, but very valuable public institution, the Edinburgh Subscription Library. It was in the course of a casual conversation, on the public street, betwdxt himself, Dr Hall, and, we believe, the well known and highly popular INIr Struthers, the minister of the Eelief Church in College Street, that the first thought of that useful institution was started. A meeting of several gentlemen was, in conse- quence, soon afterwards held, on the 11th November 1794; when a society, for the erection of the Library, was formally constituted, and regulations drawn up for the management of its business. Dr Hall was elected President ; and the library was, in the first instance, placed in the session-house of his con'Tegation, Rose Street ; where it remained until the collec- tion of books became too extensive for the accommodation. At the same time IVIi' Peddie was chosen secretary ; and he served the society, in that capacity, for the two following years. Tracing its existence to so humble an origin, the library has enjoyed a high degree of prosperity, and, at this day, holds a first rank among institutions of the kind. It may be justly regarded as the parent of many similar institutions MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 47 existing throughout the country ; — a class of agencies to which, we shall probably not err, if we attribute, in a considerable degi'ee, that diffusion of useful knowledge, and that elevation of literary taste by which the present times are distinguished. At a somewhat later period, Mr Peddie had the honour to be the founder of an institution of a different description, which has proved a singular blessing to a large and deserving class of individuals. This was " The Friendly Society of Dissenting Ministers in Scotland, instituted at Edinburgh, 20th June 1797," for the purpose of establishing a fund for granting annuities to the widows of its members, and also making provision, should that be found ultimately practicable, for their orphan children. The Widows' Scheme in the Church of Scotland, which was formed on the calculations of Dr Webster, had been established fifty years before, and its usefuhiess and stability tested by experience. The want of something similar among dissenters had, in several instances, been severely felt ; and threatened, at the time, to be in future felt still more extensively, on account of the smallness of their livings, and the increasing rise in the cost of all the articles of life. The scheme was therefore no sooner established than it met with general approbation ; a large proportion of the dissenting mini- sters of Scotland availing themselves of the advantages whicli it held out. It differed from the scheme of the Church of Scotland in several important particulars. It was not con- fined to one communion, but made to comprehend dissenting ministers of all the various denominations. It was entirely a voluntary association, which no minister was compelled to enter, as in the Establishment, whether he were inclined or not. And it was not chartered by Act of Parliament, but only regulated in conformity to the tenor and spirit of those parliamentary statutes, which are designed for the guidance and encouragement of aU Friendly Societies. In forming the society, a number of the brethren in Edinburgh zealously co-operated with Mr Peddie ; particularly, that most benevo- lent man, the late Rev. George More, formerly minister of the 48 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. Associate (Antiburgher) Congi'egation of North Shields, and father of the present professor of Scots Law in the university of Edinburgh. But the rules for the management of the society were drawn out, and the calculations upon which the scheme was founded, were up cast by Mr Peddie's own hand, and Avdthout professional assistance. Of these calculations the scheme of the Church of Scotland was assumed as the basis ; while such modifications were made on it as were considered necessary to adapt it to the numbers and circumstances of dis- senting ministers. The design of all these modifications, and of various subsidiary contrivances, was to reach the same result ; to secure for the widows of members the same or higher annuities, in consistency with the payment of a much smaller annual rate. The doctrine of Annuities was not so completely understood at the time when the society was instituted as now ; yet such were the accm-acy and skill with which the scheme was projected, that after the trial of half a century, it has been found, by the decisive test of experience, and the highest pro- fessional authority, to correspond very closely with the theory of its operation ; while some alterations and improvements have recently been introduced into it, with the view of giving additional security for its prospective stability, and enlarging the sphere of its usefulness. There can be no doubt that the scheme was admirably adjusted to the cu'cumstances of the class for whom it Avas intended ; and that it has been the source of immense advantage tothem.^ Life Assurance Societies, which have of late years acquired a high popularity, were not established in Scotland at the date of its formation, nor indeed ' Previous to this time, attempts had been made both in the Burgher and Antiburgher and Relief Synods, to form Widows' Funds, upon the principle of Charitable Societies, to be supported by collections, but they had all failed. Some extra aid of a similar kind was at first connected with the Friendly Society, quite against Mr Peddie's views. He objected to it, as giving an eleemosynary character to the Institution, as an clement on which no dependence could be placed, and as rendering any calculations founded on it, altogether unsafe. It was soon found that the provision could not be acted upon, and in a very few years it was repealed altogether. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. ' 49 for eighteen years afterwards ; but to the dissenting ministers of Scotland, it has been much more extensively beneficial, than any life assurance scheme could possibly have proved ; since it may be fairly questioned, whether, with the narrow incomes of dissenting ministers, one seventh part of those who have been members of the society, would or could have made any pro- vision for their families in the event of their death upon the life assurance principle ; demanding, as that principle does, so much larger annual payments, for the purpose of securing equal advantages. Having conferred upon his brethren im- portant benefit as the author of the institution, Mr Peddie was appointed its treasurer. In this office, held by him till his death, he greatly added to the obligation ; not only by discharging its duties, for a series of years, entirely gi'atuitously, but by the parental solicitude with which he constantly watched over the interests of the society, and the skill and fidelity with which he administered its affairs. To his prudent and economical management, and to the confidence inspired by his reputation for wisdom and integrity, the society, there cannot be a doubt, was indebted for a large share of the prosperity which it has enjoyed, " When the great missionary movement in this country, which proceeds with such majestic steadiness, commenced towards the close of last century, he was one of its first, and continued till his death, one of its steadiest supporters." The rise of the London Missionary Society, instituted on the 22d of September 1795, was hailed by him with delight, as the dawn of a new and brighter era in the history of the church. An impulse was then given to the cause of Chris- tianity, which was felt in the quickened activity of every religious community. The flame of missionary zeal kindled in the metropolis spread over the length and breadth of the land ; and the pious of every name soon vied with each other in expressions of fraternal regard, and in unwonted efforts for the propagation of evangelical truth. It must ever remain a blot on the history of the Church of Scotland, that the c 50 • MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. benevolent entei'prise, which was awakenmg the energies, and uniting the sympathies of Christians throughout the empire, was, by the influence of the dominant party, virtually con- demned in the General Assembly. Nor was it to the credit of the ecclesiastical judicatories of some other bodies of Chris- tians, that they were restrained, by denominational jealousy, or prejudice, fi'om co-operation with their brethren, for the diffusion of the knowledge of salvation in the dark places of the earth. The early and cordial countenance and aid which the Associate Synod lent to the missionary cause, may be considered as a happy indication, not only of the state of vital religion among them, but also of the wise and liberal spirit which animated their leading men. The same testimony may be borne in favour of the Synod of Relief.' A minister of the Associate Synod, the venerable Dr Waugh of London, had the honour of framing the fundamental principle of the IVIissionary Society ; that catholic principle, which has justly been said to be to the institution at once its " decus et tutamen," its ornament and strength, by including all parties of evan- gelical Christians in its constitution, and excluding the pro- pagation of every party tenet. But his brethren fully partook, at the time to which we refer, in the zeal and liberality of their representative in London. On the very month, on which the Society there was instituted, the Synod appointed ]Mr Peddie (who, as at some preceding meetings, was acting in the capacity of clerk), in conjunction A\'ith Messrs Hall, Dick, and Aitchison, "to correspond with the Directors, assuring them of the Synod's hearty approbation of their design, wishing them all success in the accomplishment of it," and giving them reason to look for the willing assistance of their congregations. It is pleasing to be able to add, that this promise Avas amply redeemed by the ministers and people of the Secession, and among others by Mr Peddie. His pulpit was ever cheerfully thrown open to the great, good, and honoured men, who from ' Struthers' History, p. 394. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 51 time to time were sent down from London to plead the cause of the Society ; and in justice to his flock, it ought to be recorded that, in proportion to their ability, they were never behind any in cordially responding to the calls which were thus addressed to their liberality. He was, at his death, one of the secretaries of the Edinburgh Auxiliary to the London Blissionary Society. The new tide of religious zeal which set in, after the ex'ection of the parent institution, occasioned the formation of many similar associations, either independent of, or in con- nexion with it. The Edinburgh, now called the Scottish Missionary Society, Avas organized on the 29th February 1796; the venerable Dr John Erskine in the chair. jNIr Peddie was one of the founders, and one of the first directors. Of the worthy men who were associated Tv^th him as the founders, only one was spared to witness along Avith him the Jubilee of the institution. But the names of Hunter, Colquhovm, Black, Jones, Buchanan, Dickson, Greville Ewing, and others, in the Establishment, and of Hall, Dick, Lothian, Struthers, and others, among the Dissenters, will long survive in the memory of the friends of religion, as men, who, in their day, did good service to the cause of Christ, and have left a worthy example for the imitation of their successors. The first pubUc sermon in behalf of the Society, was preached by Dr Erskine. The first public addi-ess on its behalf, at the commencement of the series of stated prayer meetings of its friends, was delivered by IVIr Hall. To gratify the wishes of the religious public, while the freshness of their first love continued, the sermons were not, as afterwards, only annual, but quarterly. The weU-known benevolent Dr Johnstone of North Leith, delivered the second of these quarterly sermons, and IMr Peddie, the third. This was in Bristo Street Meeting House on Thursday, 10th November 1796; the text was Psalm Ixxii. 17, "His name shall endure for ever, his name shall be continued as long as the sun ; and men shall be blessed in him ; all nations shall call him blessed." At the request of the Society, the 52 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. sermon, which gave great satisfaction as delivered, was after- wards published under the title of " The Perpetuity, Advan- tages, and Universality of the Christian Religion," and was received with much favour by the public. We may notice that the annual sermon for the same Society, was again preached by him at a long subsequent period, in Bristo Street, on 16th May 1821, from Rev. xiv. 6, "And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people." By this time, the expensive custom of regularly requesting every sermon delivered on the anniversary, in order to be printed, had been judiciously abandoned ; but when, some years later, he was solicited for a contribution to the United Secession Magazine, he consented to give this sermon ; which accord- ingly appeared in the tenth volume of that periodical ; it is strongly imbued with the characteristic qualities of the author's writings. The deep and lively interest he felt in the spread of religion, was manifested in many other services performed in connection with the Scottish Missionary Society. He was during many years one of its directors ; and in attend- ance on their meetings, in the examination and training of missionary candidates and students, and in the management of the general business of the institution, of which he had at least his fiill share, he did no small amount of disinterested and useful labour. At the stated prayer meetings of the society, few Avere more constantly present than he : on such occasions he often gave the address ; and he frequently appeared on the platform on behalf of the society. His services were often afforded in connection with the designation and ordination of its missionaries ; in particular, he delivered the address at the designation of Mr James Elder and Mr William Scott, as mis- sionaries to the South Seas, in March 1800 ; and on the 28th August 1820, he gave the address to ISIr George Blythe on his going to Russia. On three several occasions, he undertook preaching tours to advocate the claims of the society, and make MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. Oo contributions on its behalf; in the year 1817, in Morayshire, Nairn, and Inverness; and in 1819-20, in Ayrshire, and the west of Scotland. On the first of these journeys, he was associated in labour and travel with the Rev. David Dickson, afterwai'ds Dr Dickson, of St Cuthbert's, Edinburgh ; with whom he enjoyed, for many years, a very close and cordial friendship. And it may here be observed, that the many warm personal friendships, together with the pleasant and improving fellowship to which the missionary and other kindi'cd institu- tions introduced him, with the good men of various denomina- tions, was, next to the adaptation of such societies to the spread of the gospel, and the high sphere of usefulness which they opened up to his exertions, the circumstance, which served most strongly to attach him to them, and engage his exertions on their behalf. These societies had been formed by the active spirit of individuals without regard to party; they had thriven by the union of counsel and co-operation, promiscuously, of church- men and dissenters ; and he felt unfeigned regret, when, at a subsequent period of his life, the bi'Otherly kindness, which had prevailed among the various christian ministers and laymen, who met in these societies, suffered a visible decline; and when a spirit of alienation, growing out of existing contro- versies, and con'upting the sympathies of the religious public, threatened their extinction. " I tremble" he said on one occasion, " for the continued existence of some of them, since certain zealots have arisen, whose religion wUl not allow them to co-operate, even in what is good and approved by them- selves, with any who have not on their forehead the legal mark ; being Jews, they will have no dealings with the Samaritans." The Edinburgh Gratis Sabbath School Society, founded in 1797, was one of the institutions of that early period, in which he took a deep interest, and for which he performed a good many valuable services. He preached a public sermon on its belialf, in the Spring of 1799, from Proverbs xxii. 6, " Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he 54 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 'will not depart from it." On that ocasion, in pleading the cause of sabbath schools, by some regarded with shyness, he represented it as an error to suppose their design to be to take the education of children out of the hands of their parents, or to supersede their diligence. Maintaining that a child would not be better taught in a school than at home, nay not so well as by the pious diligent parent, who has his childi-en in sub- jection under him, he stated the design of the institution to be for the benefit of those children, who would either receive no instruction at all, or what is very inadequate at home. And he remarked, that its formation was therefore calculated " to produce, in christian minds, mixed sensations of joy and gi-ief ; of grief, that in a land where the gospel has been so long preached, and almost all men make some profession of it, an institution of the kind should be of such urgent necessity ; and of joy, that Christians had seen and felt the importance of the young being taught the principles of religion, and had, constrained by love to their souls, not in Edinburgh alone, but in many other parts of the country, stepped forward to offer their services, where their natural guardians and teachers neglected it." Acting on these principles, he was a decided and warm supporter of the Sabbath School Society, frequently visiting the schools, ever ready when consulted to impart his ad\ace to the teachers or directors, and pleading the cause of the institution from the pulpit. Its annual report for 1821 was from his pen. For a long series of years, the children attending its numerous schools were accustomed to assemble annually on a week evening, one half of their number in St Cuthberts parish church, and the other half in Bristo Street. On one of these occasions he preached to them from the words of Obadiah in 1 Kings xviii. 12, " I thy servant fear the Lord from my youth." And on se-seral occasions he performed similar services in other places adjoining to the city. It would be improper in commemorating his exertions in connection with the philanthropic institutions of this period of his life, to overlook the Edinburgh Magdalene Asylum. He was one of its founders in 1797. It was then designated the MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 55 Philanthropic Society. For a considerable number of years he took an active share in its management, and very frequently preached to the poor females who were the objects of the chai-ity. On the 3d of February 1799, he preached the public sermon for its benefit, from Luke xv. 3-7. This discourse was aftenvards published at the desire of the society, under the title of " The Parable of the Lost Sheep Explained and Aj^plied ;" and may perhaps be referred to as affording a good specimen of his expository talent, as weU as of his thorough knowledge of human nature, while the sentiments seem to us to be expressed with clearness, persuasive earnestness, and frequently with beauty. That he was able to devote so large a portion of time and labour, to the management of public and charitable institutions, was always surprising to those who were acquainted with the number and magnitude of his professional engagements. About this period of his ministry, however, his hands were occupied with other duties, which must have required no small amount of attention and toil. Among these, we may specify, the share which he had for some years, in conducting the Christian Magazine, and in contributing to its pages. The religious periodical to which we allude, is one but little known except among Seceders ; but it held among them a high reputa- tion, especially during the progress of the first series, which commenced in the year 1797, and was continued till 1806 ; that series was supported by both sections of the Secession Church ; and though admitting ecclesiastical intelligence from both sides, kept wonderfully free of any party bias. The late Dr Duncan of Mid Calder, in his memoir of JVIr Culbertson, the author of the Lectures on the Revelation, gives the following account of its origin. " Among some brethren," he says, " who were assisting in the dispensation of the Lord's supper at Craig- mailing, in the year 1796, the Evangelical Magazine, then the only religious periodical publication, having become the subject of conversation, the project of setting on foot a work of the same description in Scotland, was conceived, discussed and 66 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. resolved upon, provided proper and steady coadjutors could be found. "With ]Mr Culbertson, the Rev. Messrs Black of Dun- fermline, one of the projectors, Peddie, M'Crie, and More of Edinburgh, Whytock of Dalkeith, and others, were associated as editors." By what must have proved an awkward and inconvenient arrangement, the superintendence of the publica- tion was given to each of the editors in rotation, for a certain number of months. Mr Peddie's connection with it did not extend beyond the year 1802 ; soon after that time, it passed over into the hands of ministers exclusively belonging to the Anti-burgher division of the body ; but during the first six years of its existence, his support of it was ample and steady. It was enriched with a very great number of articles from his pen, some of them of much value. Occasionally, the deficient supply of papers from contributors compelled him, during his seasons of editorship, to furnish the greater portion of the original matter from his own resources. His articles appeared under a variety of signatures, and some of them are not dis- tinguished by any mark. He was constrained to conceal the sameness of the hand, which supplied so large a portion of the reading, frequently with what he considered hasty productions. His most common signatures are Philemon, Monitor, Philo- biblus, and X. Y. Z. A few of his papers are subscribed uEgrotus, Hemerobios, X., P., and Z. Only one of his articles, which we are able to recognise, is of a critical nature ; this is a short paper in the first volume, on Rom. ix. 3 ; and but one is of a polemical kind, if that name can even be applied to it ; we refer to a paper in the sixth volume, " On "Washing the Dis- ciples' Feet ;" the object of which is to show that the practice in question is not a religious ordinance, like baptism and the Lord's Supper. But his contributions are, for the most part, of the same description of writing, with what forms the staple of the magazine ; papers on doctrinal and practical subjects, some of them in reality, sermons in an altered or abridged form ; while others must have been composed expressly for the work. There is in the second and third volumes, a series of MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 57 letters to which we should suppose the latter description appli- cable, written with great spirit and force, and characterized in a high degi*ee, we think, by that caustic severity, and that mixture of pungent reproof, and affectionate expostulation, which so eminently fitted many of the author's pulpit ad- dresses, for at once impressing the conscience and gaining the heart. They are distinguished by the following titles, " On the Necessity of Moderating our Attachment to our Relations;" " On the Abuse of Wit;" " Consolation in the Death of Children;" "From a Father to an L-religious Son ;" " On the Disgracefulness of Vice ;" " On the Neglect of Public Worship;" "On the Lidulgence of Immoderate Grief;" and " On the Neglect of the Religious Instruction of Children." He wrote the preface to the second volume. He wrote also, two papers entitled, " Reflections on the Divine Glory Suggested bythe Contemplation of the HeavenlyBodies;" two " On Cruelty to Brute Creatures ;" and two " On the Fear of Death ; " and the foUomng essays, on somewhat related subjects, are ascertained to be his: — " On the Divine Methods of Instructing in Righteousness ;" " On the Method and Diffi- culty of Understanding the Language of Providence ; " and " On the Obscurity of the Divme Dispensations ;" "The Uni- versal Disease ;" and " The Great Physician." We may sub- join a list of detached pieces, which are likewise known to be from his pen: — "Reflections on the Value of Time;" "The Prophecy of Caiaphas considered;" "On the Character of Demas;" "The Plant of Renown;" "The Conversion of Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon;" "The Unregenerate Heart, a Bleak and Barren Wilderness;" "Reflections on Achan's Theft;" "On the Sense in which Charity Covers a Multitude of Sins ; " " On the Divine Condescension as ex- pressed in Isaiah Ixv. 2 ; " and " On the Traditional Mode of Living, 1 Pet. i. 18." Our readers will find in the second and third volumes of the Magazine, a series of short and lively essays, extending to fourteen in number, on the Perfections of God, of which the authorship partly belongs to him. They 58 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. are introduced as by " an author a considerable time deceased, well-known in the religious world." MacEwen is the author intended ; but we have good reason to belieA^e, that while some of them are perhaps the exclusive production of that agreeable writer, others are either the filling up of mere out- lines of some of his unpublished manuscripts, or were wholly written by INIr Peddie, as an imitation of his style; which accorduigly is caught, but not so perfectly as to conceal another hand in the composition.^ There will be found in the second volume another imitation of MacEwen, entitled, " The Sun of Righteousness." The dearth of materials, we have no doubt, caused the first of these to be furnished for the Magazine ; and on finding that they took with the public they were continued. We know no good reason why it may not also be recorded, that impelled by the same motive, as is likely, and by a desire to impart some variety to the Magazine, while under his super- intendence, he contributed to it at one time a few pieces in verse. He certainly never imagined himself possessed of that peculiar and rare combination of mental qualities, which go to constitute the poet, though we no doubt sometimes find able men, who, in this respect, form no very just conception of their own powers. Probably, beyond the circle of his friends, he would not have owned that he ever cultivated the muse ; but the verses to which we refer, do no discredit to his memory. They appeared in the second volume, and are entitled, " Know Thyself;" "The World in Darkness;" and "The World Illu- minated;" in two parts, "The Expectation ;" and "The Dawn." But the most considerable of his contributions to periodi- cal religious literature, were his Essays on Sacred Zoology. It was the design of these essays to treat of the various animals mentioned in scripture, with a vicAV to the elucidation and defence of the sacred record, and the inculcation of such religious and moral instructions as might be found incidentally ' They were afterwards publislied in a collected edition of MacEwen's fssaj's. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 59 or directly springing from the subject. He began them in the Chi'istian Magazine ; but after a short introductory pajjer and eight essays had appeared, circumstances occasioned an. inter- ruption of his labours. Fourteen years afterwards, he was prevailed on by the editor of the Christian Repository, to re- sume the work in that periodical, then understood to be the organ of that branch of the church to which he belonged ; when after prefixing five essays, containing some valuable and inter- esting general observations bearing on Scripture Zoology, with regard to the distinguishing characters of animals, their relation to God and to man, and the duties of man to the animals ; he reprinted with considerable additions the essays formerly given to the public in the Christian Magazine, and carried forward the series, till the pressure of other duties, together with his own too low estimate of the value of his labours, unhappily induced him once more to relinquish the work.^ By such as are best able to judge of its merits, great regi-et has vei*y often been expressed that he left it incomplete. With readers of all classes possessed of any measure of intelligence, these essays were highly popular. As they were intended for general usefulness, he adopted in preparing them, the inartifi- cial and unscientific arrangement of alphabetic order. But they were the fruit of extensive reading, of an accm'ate know- ledge of natural history, and of a careful investigation not only of the original scriptures, but of all the eminent authori- ties, ancient and modern, whose scattered lights could be brought to bear upon the subject. The enterprize and the research of the last thirty years, have considerably augmented the materials suited to the successful cultivation of this field of biblical study ; yet these essays have lost little of their real ' Though the laborious duties of an extensive charge occasioned the suspension of these essays, yet Dr Peddie retained a fondness for the study of Natural History to the close of life. Among the last books which he read after his days of feebleness were far advanced, was Jesse's Gleanings in Natural History, from which he repeatedly pointed out to his relatives particular passages that interested him. 60 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. value. Their graphic delineation of the characters and habits of the brute creation, and of incidents and manners in the sacred volume, imparts to them a peculiar charm, while they display to much advantage his clearness and skill in the expo- sition of the meaning of scripture, and the sagacity and force of his practical application of its lessons. A most acceptable volume would be presented to the biblical student, and a valu- able addition made to the existing means of popular religious instruction, were these essays to be republished along A\ath a continuation of them by some competent hand.^ But his most important literary labours were undertaken in connection with a public controversy, of great interest and moment in the history of the religious denomination to which he belonged, and one that marks an important era in the pro- gress of religious freedom in this coimtry. We allude to what is commonly called the Old Light Controversy. Li this dis- pute, which ultimately evolved consequences not foreseen by any of the parties engaged in it, he was from the beginning a principal actor ; and about the time when it reached its crisis, as well as in the long and critical law-suit which sprung out of it, the services, which he performed on behalf of his breth- ren and the church, were such as to confer the greatest obliga- tions on the whole body. The occasion of the controversy was a proposal introduced into the Synod in May 1795, to make the doctrine of the Westminster Standards concerning the power of the civil magistrate in religion a matter of forbearance. Mr Peddie's scruples on this head, while a student of divinity, have akeady been adverted to ; and we have had occasion to mention the precaution which he took for the protection of his integrity and the preservation of his freedom, when giving his assent to the Standards, by making an express reservation on the point ' Of tha essays which originally appeared in the Christian Magazine, large portions will be found transferred into the popular and valuable Illus- trations of Scripture of Professor Paxton, who makes a general acknow- ledgment of the obligation. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 61 in question. The same course was from time to time foUoAved by not a few young men who, having imbibed the same views, conceived it most in accordance with upright and honourable deaUng, especially in the solemn matter of a public vow to God, to announce both at license and ordination, the excep- tions with which they assented to the formula of questions prescribed. How far the Presbyteries of the body were to be justified or condemned, who, without synodical authority, to this extent relaxed the terms of admission to official status in the Church, we do not inquire ; simply stating the fact, to account for the circumstance of individuals, sustaining the ministerial office, being found in the Associate Synod, who held themselves in no respect pledged to the compulsory or persecuting principles apparently taught in its public creed. But compulsion in matters of religion was also now repudiated by many, who, on admission to office, had given an unqualified assent to the "Westminster Standards. Correct views on the subject of religious freedom, had, of late years, made rapid progress in the body, both among ministers and people ; the doctrine of toleration was all but universally adopted, and the use of force in religion detested. Some, however, were extremely unwilling to believe, that in the venerable symbolical books of the church, there was anything contained, that savoured of persecution. From excessive veneration for the opinions of our fathers, and aversion to cut themselves off from that body with which they were con- nected, and from every body of Presbyterians in the kingdom, they shut their eyes to the light, and strained hai-d to inter- pret the articles in question, in a manner consistent with the inalienable rights of men to judge for themselves in matters of conscience, responsible to none but God. It is certain, indeed, that the Confession does, in one place, assert the gi'eat prin- ciple of religious freedom. "God alone," it says, "is the Lord of the conscience, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men." Carry out this statement to its just and necessary consequences, and you completely explode 62 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. compulsory measures in religion. Some, who admit the law- fulness of these measures, pretend that they do not intend to force the consciences of others, but solely to restrain them from publishing and propagating their errors. But this passage is not to be understood of trammelling or forcing the consciences of others in this sense, because the thing is im- possible. All the governments on earth could not hinder a man fi'om thinking as he pleases, from secretly holding any principles of which he approves. But conscience may require hira not only to believe certain doctrines, but to proclaim them to the world for the glory of God, as it seems to him, and the benefit of his brethi-en. Wliether his doctrines are right or ^\Tong, they appear to liim to be true, and it may be, doctrines of such importance, that they ought not to be concealed. If, therefore, you impose restraints upon him, if you oblige him by pains and penalties to be silent, you interfere w4th his conscience, you hinder him from doing what he considers as his duty, you compel him, according to his present views, to obey man rather than God. And such compulsion, the Con- fession here condemns. But there can be no doubt that the compilers of the Con- fession did not fully perceive the consequences of their own doctrine ; for, in other parts of that otherwise admirable summary, they distinctly admit the lawfulness and duty of proclaiming and propagating the truth by the power of the sword. Without citing at length the paragraphs which express these odious sentiments, we refer our readers to the Larger Catechism, question 109, where, among sins forbidden by the second commandment, is mentioned, " tolerating a folse reli- gion ;" to tlie Confession, chapter 23d, section 3d, where it is said, that " the civil magistrate hath authority, and it is his duty to take order that all blasphemies and heresies be suppressed ; " and, finally, to the 20th chapter of the same Confession, section 4tli, in whicli we arc told, that " for their publishing of such opinions, or maintaining of such practices, as are contrary to the light of nature, or to the known principles of MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 63 Christianity," persons " may lawfully be called to account, and be proceeded against by the power of the civil magistrate." The more that attention was directed to these passages, did the con\dction become impressed on the minds of brethren, that the subordinate standards approved of the use of force in religion ; and this being admitted to be opposed to the spirit and precepts of our holy religion, an encroachment on the rights of conscience, and calculated to defeat the very end in view, if that end be to maintain the honour of the Saviour, and advance the interests of truth, it was felt that it would be inconsistent with integrity, in themselves any longer to profess, or to require on the part of others, that unlimited adherence to them, which, till this period, had been given, for the most part, without any scruple. Accordingly, a proposal was made to remove the obnoxious articles from the creed of the Church ; in other words, to receive the whole doctrine of the Confession of Faith and Catechisms, excepting the passages concerning the magistrate's power about religion. This made an alteration necessary, in the formula of questions proposed at licence and ordination. Besides, there had hitherto been required, along with an un- qualified assent to the Confession of Faith, an acknowledgment of the perpetual obligation of the National Covenant, and of the solemn League and Covenant. But they who entertained scruples about the magistrate's power circa sacra, were under the necessity of also questioning part of the matter of these Covenants, as well as the manner of enforcing them ; for that power is explicitly maintained in the Covenants, and the National Covenant was enforced by civil pains. With a view, therefore, to afford effectual relief to the consciences of brethren, and to remove all stumbling blocks out of the Avay of entrants into the ministry and eldership, it was proposed, that instead of an acknowledgment of the formal obligation of the Covenants, there should simply be required an approbation of them, as a solemn engagement on the part of our fathers, to adhere to the truths of Christ, and to transmit them to pos- 64 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. terity ; and a declaration of belief, that in virtue of these ti-ansactions of a bypast age, additional guilt would be incur- red by their descendants, if they should ever renounce refor- mation principles. The matter was first brought into formal discussion in the Synod, by a petition from the Rev. John Fraser, Auchter- muchty, stating that there was a diversity of opinion on the subject of the magistrate's power, and the binding obligation of the Covenants, and praying that measures should be taken to reconcile the standards of the Church to the opinions of its members. IMr Fraser was a pious man, of most respectable acquirements as a theologian and a scholar, and one, who, liimself, held the most rigid view which was taken of the articles in question ; but he was a man of a liberal and candid spirit, and wished that others should enjoy some liberty of sentiment, on a matter so little connected with the vitals of religion. After his petition had lain for some months upon the table of the Synod, a committee was appointed, of which ISIr Peddie was a zealous and active member, which sat in Edinburgh ; and after long and mature deliberation, brought in an overture for a modified formula, framed upon the prin- ciples which have already been stated. No measure surely could be more moderate and reasonable. It did not call upon the Synod to condemn those passages in the standards, which treat of the duty of the IVIagistrate in relation to the church. It did not propose that the Synod should assert that he has no power in religion, or that he has not all that power which is assigned him in the Confession. Neither did it ask the Synod to say, that the covenants were not formally binding on posterity. A measure of such a nature would have been violent, and open to just complaint. All that the overture proposed was to make these points matters of forbearance. He, who believed the power of the magistrate circa sacra, as taught in the confession, and the formal obligation of the covenants, might continue to believe as before, only he was not to insist for the same faith in his MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 65 brethren. He who thought that the magistrate has no such power, and that the covenants are not formally obligatory on posterity, was to be allowed, notwithstanding his opinions, to enjoy his privileges, if he assented to the other articles which the Synod thought it necessary to retain.^ Forbearance was to be mutual. And the proposed alteration took for granted nothing, save this simple postulate, that the doctrine of the standards, about the power of the magistrate, might be true, and yet not a truth of such importance as to deserve to be a term of ministerial communion ; and that the covenants might be binding to the latest posterity, and yet it be lawful and proper to admit persons, otherwise qualified, to minister in holy things, or to occupy a place in a session, though they could not profess their belief in that opinion ; and, consequently, did not feel at liberty to teach, that the principles of religion are to be held fast by us on this very account that they were sworn to hy our forefathers, as well as on the ground of their own intrinsic truth, and Divine authority.^ An opposition was notwithstanding started to the measure ; an opposition, which gradually waxed more threatening, until the peace of the whole church was involved ; and which at least made up in virulence what it wanted in reason. That ample opportunity might be giveniOT collecting the deliberate mind of the body, the overture was allowed to lie on the table for a year, that is till April 1798 ; though a formula was drawn up, and enacted to be used during the interval, called the Interim Formula, and modelled to a certain extent in conformity with the proposed alterations. These were meanwhile advocated j&'om the press, by the pens of such men as Dick and Lawson ; by the former, in the sermon preached by him at the opening of the Synod, April 1796, which he published with a note on the debated topics appended, com- prising the whole marrow of the question, and setting the ' See Dick's Sermon on Confessions of Faith. Note. ^ See Lawson's Considerations. 66 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. propriety of the proposed change in a clear and convincing light : and by the latter, in a pamphlet of considerable length, entitled " Considerations on the Overture lying before the Associate Synod ;" a pamphlet, which, as we are disposed to think, exliibits, perhaps more fully than any of the author's other -writings, that depth and simplicity of thought, and that apostolic meekness of wisdom, for which the venerable profes- sor was so highly esteemed among his contemporaries. On the other side, the opponents of the measure were, certainly, men of no particular note in the church ; men who were incapable of shedding any false lustre over a cause, which was essentially weak and bad, by any pre-eminence of talents or piety ; but who possessed along with some powers of declama- tion, a fondness for invective, and who could take advantage of the attachment of the people to old ideas, or rather to old sounds. The tenacious adherence to received opinions, which distinguishes Presbyterians and Seceders, together with their ready susceptibility to alarm on the slightest suspicion of heresy in doctrine, are well known ; and these principles, valuable in themselves, and capable of most beneficial applica- tion, were, at this time, practised on mth fatal effect to raise a senseless clamour, as if the foundations were about to be destroyed, and those great truths abandoned, the profession of which had hitherto distinguished and adorned the churches of the Secession. But, happily, it could be shewn by un- questionable evidence, that the first seceders were no fi'iends to compulsory measures ; though possibly they might thereby have insensibly departed from the standards which they acknow- ledged. And when the charge of perjury as well as of apostacy, was with unscrupulous violence brought against those who pleaded for change ; as it was, at this time, constantly brought, both from the pulpit and the press ; it was replied with most triumphant force, that if the ministers and elders of the Associate Synod had, at their ordination, vowed to main- tain the principle of compulsion in religion, belicAnng it to be H divine truth, but had now, on better information, come to MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 67 regard it as no divine truth, but an error, they were bound, instead of adhering to their vow, to repent of their rashness. On every principle of religion and morality, the obligation of their oath was dissolved by the superior obligation to believe nothing that is false, and to maintain the truth only. And what is not to be forgotten, though they had been called upon to say that the articles in question were truths, and at the time said it with a good conscience, they had never been called upon to say that these ought to be terms of admission to office, and should be imposed on all succeeding entrants. At the Synod in April 1797, those, with whom Mr Peddie acted, failed, in consequence of the ferment which had been produced, in obtaining an open and undisguised alteration ot the formula. The overture of the committee was not adopted. But by a singular mistake, which has few pai'allels, we suppose, in the history of ecclesiastical warfare, all that they sought was virtually conceded by their opponents, who, in doing so, as they aftei'wards found, completely outAvitted themselves. As a healing measure, this party brought forward, and carried a proposal, that the old formula be retained in use, but that the following declaration should be prefixed to it, and read when the questions were put at licence and ordination, namely, " That whereas some parts of the standard books of this Synod have been interpreted as favouring compulsory measures in religion ; the Synod hereby declare, that they do not require an approbation of any such principle, fi-om any candidate for licence or ordination ; and whereas a controversy has ai'isen among us respecting the nature and kind of the obligation of our solemn covenants on posterity, whether it be entirely of the same kind upon us, as upon our ancestors who swore them ; the Synod hereby declare, that while they hold the obligation of our covenants upon posterity, they do not interfere with that controversy, which has arisen respecting the nature and kind of it; and recommend it to all their members, to suppress that controversy, as tending to gender strife rather than godly edifying." Against the adoption of 68 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. this prefatory declaration, or j)reamhle, as it was called, Mr Peddie, and his friends, to the number of twenty-one, pro- tested; chiefly because they regarded it as a very indirect disavowal of the persecuting clauses in the standards ; as not perfectly consistent with the use of the formula in its unaltered shape ; and as really designed to shield hypocrisy. They were therefore unwilling that this should be the final settlement of the question. As a temporary measure, however, they found that they could, notwithstanding, submit to it ; as reaUy gi'anting, though in a cu'cuitous and not sufficiently open and avowed maimer, the freedom at which they aspired. But, it is a fact, that no sooner did the opposite party, who had hoped that this deed of SjTiod would have drawn the New Light (as the men, who pleaded for liberty on the points in debate, began now to be called), into a state of separation from the body, learn that the preamble would be accepted, and submitted to, though not approved of, by these brethren, than their tactics were wholly changed. A cry was now raised by them against the preamble ; that very preamble, which they themselves had originated, and been chiefly instrumental in carrying by their votes ; it was attacked as involving a dereliction of those prin- ciples, which had previously been held by the Secession Church, and as brought in with a fraudulent intention ; and petitions, procm'ed, by every kind of agitation, from the ignorant and the prejudiced, were poured into the church courts, praying that it might be set aside. The church was thus once more thrown into flames, and a double portion of acrimony infused into the controversy, both within and without the walls. By the course which events had taken, it had now become the necessary policy of those, with whom JMi' Peddie was more strictly associated, to support the Synod, in refusing to rescind the preamble, against the efforts of its disappointed and mortified authors. This was essential to the preservation of the liberty acquired, and the termination of an unseemly strife. About a twelvemonth after the period to which we refer, it became quite apparent that a crisis was at hand, and MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 69 that matters were to be pushed to a separation. Mr Peddie had, hitherto, not taken a very prominent part in the public debates on the question at issue ; though he had been much employed more privately in assisting the counsels of his ftnends, and was looked to, as one of the survivors has expressed it, " as one of their pillars of strength, on whom they could rely in their emergency." A few days, however, before the meeting of Synod in September 1799, he was applied to by his friends, to provide against what was seen to be approaching, by the preparation of an address, to be issued in the name of the Synod, in justification of the steps which had been taken, and in order to quiet the churches after the agitation to which they had been subjected. This he soon executed ; and after the decision of the court, rejecting the petitions for the dismissal of the preamble, his draft was brought forward, read, and after a few changes made upon it, adopted, and immediately issued, under the title of " An Address of the Associate Synod to the People under their Charge, Respecting the Present Differences, on the Subject of the Preamble to the Formula." The design of the address, is described in the minute appointing it to be drawn up, as " expressive of their adherence to the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government of the Church of Scotland ; and for repelling the calumnious reproaches which have been circulated in the public, that the Synod, by what they have done in this business, have abandoned their avowed principles, and that this is designed to be the forerunner of future and more dangerous innovations." The address was wi'itten, says M'Kerrow, " in a style of great manliness, and was eminently fitted by the plainness and honesty of its statements, to remove any false impressions that might have been produced by the proceedings of the Synod, and to restore confidence to the minds of those, who were in danger of being led away by the misre- presentations of prejudiced and interested individuals." In point of fact, it did exert a most salutary influence in enlighten- ing the people, and exposing the cause of the small faction who had been the authors of the ferment, and who soon after- 70 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. wards broke off from the Synod, and constituted themselves into a separate body ; presuming to designate itself, first, the Associate Presbytery, and then, the Associate Synod. Among the pamphlets, of which, as is usual in warfare of the kind, the controversy gave birth to a profusion, there was one entitled, " A Smooth Stone from the Brook," by one of the leaders of the Old Light party ; the Rev. William Willis of Greenock, afterwards of Stirling. To this production an anonymous reply soon afterwards appeared, called, " The Smooth Stone Polished into a Mirror." This lively jeu d'esprit, which excited much attention, and a gi'cat deal of mirth at the time, was attributed by many to JNIi- Peddie, probably from the circumstance that he conducted it through the press. It was indeed indebted for some of its facetice to him and Mr Dick ; but the real author, whose name was for a period con- cealed, was their mutual friend, Mr Comrie. In a conversation among these three attached friends and neighbours, the thought of the pamphlet was first suggested ; and it proved an eifective contribution to the polemics on one side of the question. It was light and sparkling, and full of amusing hits, Avhich are understood to have been severely felt, although, now, after such a lapse of time, the point is in many instances necessarily lost. A pamphlet of a higher kind of merit came from IMi* Peddie's pen about the same period. Before giving an account of this production, which obtained no little celebrity, and may be regarded as having terminated the controversy, it is necessary to state, that one of the accusations, which had been brought against the Associate Synod, by those who separated from them, was that of political disaffection. This in the actual circumstances of the country, was a most cruel and injurious imputation, and it was not merely insinuated, but pretty broadly alleged. The nation, it is to be remembered, was at that period, in consequence of the French revolution, and the excesses which folloAved it, in a very uneasy and agitated state. Political feeling ran amazingly high. I^specially in this MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 71 northern division of the island, the most servile principles in politics were in favour with the influential classes ; insomuch that it was enough to mark a man as a dangerous character, on whom the officers of government ought to keep a watchful eye, that he only cherished ideas verging to what are now called liberal, and that have received the sanction of all orders of the commonwealth, by being embodied in the recent reform of the legislature. This being the heated temper of the times, nothing could by the darkest malignity have been devised, more fitted to ruin the public character and usefulness of any religious body, than to insinuate against them disaffection to the constitution of the country ; nothing more likely to bring them into trouble Avith the men in power. The malignity of the charge, in relation to the Synod and its members, was only equalled by its falsehood ; for the state had not more attached friends, nor the reigning family more loyal subjects, within the compass of the British dominions, than were the Scottish Seceders, both ministers and people ; a timid aversion to change, and profound reverence for all the institutions of the land, being in truth, more justly predicable of the entire body, than any tendency towards principles inimical to lawful authority, or subversive of social order. But the occasion furnished by the Synod's dispute was a tempting one for political alarmists, and men whose party hate, or love of mischief, was stronger than their sense of justice and attachment to truth. Little ingenuity was necessary, to impart the dark colouring of sedition, to the very innocent proceedings of the body ; they had struck out of their creed the magistrates' power about religion ; and this could easily be reported so as to make those, who did not understand the subject, believe that they had thrown off their allegiance to government. Generous opponents would have disdained to avail themselves of the unfair advantage to be gained, by giving such a repre- sentation of a purely theological dispute. But there was one individual, not at all connected with the Synod, and whoae interference, therefore, in any way with a strife belonging not 72 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. to him, could only be regarded as officious and intermeddling, who had the meanness to make this use of the circumstances of the times. This was the Rev. William Porteous, D.D,, one of the ministers of Glasgow, a man who was considered by the public, as possessed of gi-eat talent and influence, and who is said to have preached orthodox doctrine ; but whose political principles were of the most subservient description ; a keen supporter of the slave-trade, and of the ministry of the time ; a person, in short, whom we need go no farther than his own pamphlet to pronounce a perfect type of the ambitious, intrigu- ing, arrogant churchman, crouching to those above him, and a tyrant to those beneath. Pushing himself forward as a sort of Goliath in the combat, insolent and overbeai'ing, and triumph- ing in the hope that the time was now come to crush the Secession, Dr Porteous published an insidious attack upon the Synod, under the title of " The New Light Examined, or Observations on the Proceedings of the Associate Synod against their own Standards," in which he accused them of dishonesty, and especially of disloyalty. This was the real design of his assault upon a body of fellow-subjects, whose crime was to have stated in their standards, an approval of that toleration, which the theory and practice of the constitution extended equally to all classes and sects. With a disgusting assumption of superiority, and the air of one who was im- pelled by patriotic zeal, concern for the bleeding interests of truth, and pity for a misguided multitude deceived by their spiritual leaders, he commented Avith some address, but with more malice, upon the several steps of the Synod's procedure in the business of the formula ; mingling with his uncharitable criticism, such dark inuendoes and cunning allusions to the political events that were passing, as were calculated to rouse the jealousy of a jealous government ; and to place the leading members of the Synod in the unhappy position of suspected democrats, hypocrites in religion, and jacobins in politics; men who retained the forms of piety, only as a cloak for the blackest designs against the throne and the altai-. Even the MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 73 preamble, which had been the invention of the separatists from the Synod, was, according to Dr Porteous, retained by the Synod that, " Like a postern gate, it might give them admis- sion to the fortress of our constitution, when the day of danger slioukl return." Perhaps more alarm and distress than there was any occasion to feel, were produced by this vile pamphlet, in the ministers of the Synod. Unused in their peaceable labours to be pub- licly accused by the lying lips of unprincipled sycophants, they were startled by such atrocious imputations on then- character. Disastrous consequences were in many quarters apprehended. Before Mr Peddie had read the pamphlet, applications came to him, from several parts of the church, to undertake a reply ; along with exhortations, very unnecessary as it proved, not to be too gentle and fair spoken, but as sharp and biting in his defence, as the crisis demanded. He accordingly procured and read it ; and immediately set about an answer with so much zeal, that it was in the hands of the public in a few weeks from the moment he commenced it ; the first part of it passing through the press, while the last was unwi'itten. It appeared in the beginning of 1800, in the form of a letter, entitled, "A Defence of the Associate Synod against the charge of Sedition, addressed to William Porteous, D.D." " It was much admired at the time for its delicate, yet keen satire, and the clearness, strength, and elegancies of its reasoning. The late Dugald Stewart recommended it to his students, as one of the most masterly pieces of classical sarcasm in our language."^ " For dignified reproof," says Dr M'Kerrow, " for caustic severity, for pointed and lucid statement, and for a thorough exposure of blundering and sophistical reasoning, it stands almost unrivalled in the annals of controversial warfare. The castigation, which Mr Peddie inflicted on his opponent, was administered with the hand of a master, and must have been felt by the subject of it to be dreadfuUy severe ; but it was not more severe than > Kay's Portraits, vol. ii. p. 352. 74 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. merited," " It can scarcely be conceived," says a venerable father in the Synod, " -what an etfect it produced in the discom- fiture of our enemies, and in raising the spirits of our fi-iends. It was boxed Avith the other papers, in the process which arose out of the Old Light separation, and was frequently referred to by the lawyers in their pleadings, as well as by the judges. As for the poor man who had provoked such punishment, he immediately sunk into contempt under a weight of ridicule and scorn, and was forgotten and neglected." The letter had a great circulation, and ran through a second edition. By some persons, whose piety was of a puling and effeminate descrip- tion, it was of course condemned as too severe ; and, like Dr Witherspoon, after the publication of his characteristics, ]Mr Peddle lost the regard of particular individuals. Some persons, we recollect to have heard him relate, told him that they did not think he could have been so ill-natured. But the necessity of the case more than justified the tone of his pamphlet. Occas- sional chastisements of malevolence and folly are expedient. He was looked upon from the time of this publication, as one whose indignation in a righteous cause it was not safe to in- cense, and who could waeld the scourge with effect. He certainly did possess the power of satire beyond most men ; but we may be permitted to remark, that if he did possess in this respect, " a giant's poAver, he did not use it as a giant." Those who were most intimate vnth him, will admit that very seldom indeed, and only when really necessary, did his lan- guage carry such keenness as to wound the feelings of any one. His peculiar talent was under the direction of sound judg- ment and benevolence ; his opinions of others were mild and charitable in a remarkable degree ; and the edge of his wit, put forth as gently as calmly, was generally felt only in those pleasantries and repartees which give zest to the confiding society of friends. The awe which it undoubtedly inspired, was mingled with affection and perfect confidence. It was thus only useful, as contributing to give him that hold which he possessed on the respect of his brethren and his people. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 75 We have alluded to charges against the Synod by the party, who schismatically separated from them, imputing then- alterations on the Standards to a spirit of disaffection to the ci^dl constitution of the country. The ofiensiveness of these malignant and unfounded accusations from persons, who must have been conscious of the loyalty of brethren whom they had so intimately known, was aggravated by the circumstance that they were alleged before the courts of law. Thus, in an action before the Court of Session, by certain members of the Associate Congregation of Kilpatrick, who along with their minister, went oiF -with the disaffected party, and washed to carry the congregational property with them, the disloyalty of the Synod was so loudly proclaimed, that the attention of the Lord Advocate, in his official capacity, was solicited from the Bench, to the merits of the question, as invohong matter of much political moment. In May 1800, JVIr Peddie, Mr Hall, Mr Lothian, and IMr Ifldston, received the thanks of the Synod, for the spirited measures taken by them in this emer- gency. Besides making certain communications to the Lord Advocate, with a view to satisfy him that the dispute had no relation to political measures, they, under high legal advice, entered an appearance in their ovra name and for their breth- ren in the Secession, as concurrents in the process which was on foot ; this being considered the most direct and expedient method of standing forward to repel the calumnious reproaches which had been cast upon them. They had the satisfaction of finding that their efforts were completely successful. The prosecutor for the Crown, satisfied of their innocence, stood forward publicly to acquit them as the victims of groundless slander. It was Lord Chief Baron Dundas who was then the Lord Advocate, and in quitting office, he introduced them to his successor, as loyal citizens, who had been calumniated, stating that he would be surety for them. At a period somewhat earlier, we believe, than the incidents just mentioned, Mr Peddie Avas personally instrumental in quieting the suspicions of government, and protecting his 76 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. brethren fi-om annoyance. Reports of disaffection among the Seceders had, it woukl seem, reached the Premier himself. IVIr Pitt interrogated Mr Dundas, aftenvards Lord Mehalle, on the subject. He, with the usual ignorance of statesmen about religious sects, even at their very doors, imagined that the Seceders were Independents ; and on learning that they were Presbyterians, is said to have exclaimed, that the matter was serious indeed, if these men were "all disloyal and all united" INIr Pulteney, a fnend of Mr Pitt, coming to Scot- land at that time, was commissioned to inquire into the facts. He applied to a professor in the university, a relative of INIr Peddie, Avho, in his turn applied to him. ]Mr Peddie wrote a letter to his fi-iend, in which he gave some explanation of the matters in discussion, which as Mr Pulteney at once acknow- ledged, cast a very different light upon the subject from that in which it had been exhibited to him. A copy of this letter Avas, with ]VIi' Peddie's consent, sent up to Mr Pitt, and was the means of satisfying the Cabinet, that nothing was to be apprehended from the principles and dispositions of the Seceders. It was not to be supposed that the prolonged and painful conflict, of which some account has now been given, could pass over Avithout some injury to individual congregations, when it had so much agitated, and partially rent the supreme court of the Body. The strife was indeed so fierce in some congregations, owing to local circumstances, as for a time to threaten them with dissolution ; whilst others escaped with scarcely a wound. Perhaps there were a majority of the congregations connected with the Synod, who saw, ANnthout much concern, a few of their more disputatious adherents withdraw to the camp of the sepai'ating party. Though Mr Peddie, as we have seen, had been deeply involved in the controversy, and had, on account of his services to the Synod, become most obnoxious to its opponents, the persons who left his congregation at the close of the contest, were too insignifi- cant in number, to impair its resources or affect its appcai-ance even for a day. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 77 A considerable period had now elapsed since lie was separated to the service of God in the gospel of his Son ; his ministry had been greatly honoured as a means of good to many souls ; and the congregation placed under his care had, in every sense of the expression, grown and flourished exceedingly. As he himself had risen more and more in the estimation of his people, so their numerical strength, and it may be added, their worldly respectability, had not only been maintained, but steadily and greatly increased by new and large accessions ; at the same time, he had enjoyed the satis- faction of seeing them living at peace among themselves, and with the exception of such occasional scandals as arise in every religious society, to call for reproof, or it may be, the exercise of higher discipline, walking suitably to their pro- fession, and adorning the doctrine of God their Saviour. From the very outset of his pastoral course, and all along, he had been privileged in being surrounded A\'ith an excellent body of elders ; men of God, wise and moderate in counsel, faithful and tender in discipline, some of them " mighty in the scriptures" and in the gift of prayer, and all of them examples to the flock, of those moral and religious duties which it was their office to guard and enforce. Of this class of oifice- bearers in presbyterian churches, the utility is often strikingly apparent ; nor though highly prized, is it ever prized more highly than it ought to be. To the instrumentality of the elders who were associated with Mr Peddie in the care of the congregation, next to his own labours, its peace and pro- sperity, during his whole ministry, as well as at the earlier period to which we at present more particularly allude, were, doubtless, chiefly attributable. It was surely a rare felicity that fell to his lot, to sit as moderator in a session, in whicli much and varied business was transacted, " without one solitary brawl" (to use his own language), during threescore years. Not only, indeed, did there prevail for that long period, betwixt him and his session, perfect harmony; but their meet- ings together were uniformly sources, as much of mutual 78 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. satisfaction and enjoyment to him and them, as of advantage to their joint charge ; a significant testimony this, not only to the christian worth of the individuals who in succession had part with him in the oversight of the people, but likewise to the wisdom, gentleness, and firmness with which he presided among them. Li the years 1801 and 1802, the propriety of erecting a new place of worship for the accommodation of the increasing numbers Avho attended his ministry, came to be agitated in the congregation. At length the measure was unanimously agreed upon at a meeting, held 6th April 1802. It was neces- sary both for safety and for comfort. The original meeting- house of Bristo Street Congregation had been built soon after the I'ise of the Secession, when the congregation was first organized, and like the other erections of the first Seceders, it had little to boast of as to architectural elegance ; it was, in fact, ill-built and ill-shaped, being long and narrow.^ It was pulled down no sooner than was necessary. That the new erection might be built upon the site which had been chosen, which partially intersected the ground covered by the old, a slice was cut off the latter, and beams of wood stretched across to serve the purpose of a temporary support and barricade. Reduced in size, and deformed in its proportions by this ampu- tation, it yet served to accommodate the worshippers better than they could have been accommodated elsewhere, till the new and more spacious building was finished.^ The ground ' It is said that in many parts of Scotland, at the beginning of the Secession, the people being persuaded that the obnoxious law of patronage would soon be abolished, and that separation from the National Establish- ment being thus no longer necessary, their meeting-houses would be rendered useless, with characteristic prudence, built these in such a fonn, that on the contemplated event taking place, they might easily be converted into dwelling-houses. Whether this remark applies to the meeting-house built " at Bristow near Edinbrugh," we are not aware. ^ It is a curious circumstance that when the pulpit of the old house was dismantled, there were found deposited in it, part underneath it, part in the canopy, ticenty-four skeletons of heads of horses ; for what purpose placed MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 79 for this was broken in September 1802 ; the foundation-stone was laid early in the following year ; and the congregation entered upon possession on the 8th of July 1804. When they met for the last time to worship God in their ancient and venerable sanctuary, the scene of so many solemn seasons, and associated Avith the remembrance of so many blessings enjoyed, and privileges for which an account was to be requu'ed, their minister addressed them from 2 John 8, "Look to yourselves that we lose not those things which we have wrought, but that we receive a full reward." On the morning of the Sabbath, on which they took possession of their new house, he pi'eached fi'om the appropriate words in Isaiah Ixvi. 1, "Thus saith the Lord, the heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool ; where is the house that ye build for me ? and where is the place of my rest ? " Tiiat very amiable man and pathetic pulpit orator, the late Rev. Peter Young, of the Associate Congregation, Jedburgh, con- ducted the remaining services of the day, preaching from Isaiah xlv. 22, " Look unto me and be ye saved all the ends of the earth." The house, with which the subsequent part of Mr Peddie's ministry was thus associated, though without pretensions to splendour, though very plain, and disadvan- tageously situated among buildingp of a somewhat mean description, is generally allowed to present in its interior construction a model of simplicity and commodiousness ; qualities for which it is indebted to him, the plan having been sketched with his own hand. Its amplitude may be regarded as an error, since it is one of the largest places of worship in the metropolis ; yet it was immediately occupied in every part, and continued for a very long series of years, not only filled, but crowded, by a body of people too numerous for a pastor, with whatever poAvers, duly to superintend. there, it is impossible to divine ; perhaps it might be from some idea, that the neighbourhood of these skulls would aid the sound of the speaker's voice ; a poor evidence, in this case, it must be confessed, of the state of Bcience among those who were concerned in the erection of the edifice. 80 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. This may be regarded as about the period when Mr Peddie attained the zenith of that very enviable kind of popularity as a minister Avhich he so long enjoyed. Highly popular, in the vulgar sense of the expression, he never was ; he never Avas run after ; never made the idol of a wondering and gaping crowd. His pulpit ministrations were too judicious to obtain for him such a distinction ; too remote from the extravagance, or exaggeration of sentiment and language, which is generally found to characterise the species of oratory to which we allude. But if popularity consist in attracting, Sabbath after Sabbath, for year after year, the same immense audience of attentive and steady worshippers, who always felt satisfied that they never were better supplied with sound, varied, interesting, and useful religious instruction, than Avhen he ministered to them, this most desirable popularity no man ever enjoyed in higher measure than he. Nor was his popularity of that meteor-like description, which after blazing for a time upon the astonished gaze, rapidly wanes, and finally sinks into obscurity. For as long a period as perhaps any man ever did, he continued to preach Avath acceptance to the same people, whose fathers had called him, and whose children and grand-children had grown up under him ; still retaining, amid the fluctuations of public opinion and of ecclesiastical affairs, and the succession of distinguished men who appeared in the established and dissenting churches around, a firm hold upon their judgment and affections, and never entering the pulpit, but to the visible satisfaction of all those whom he was most concerned to please and to profit. Other observations, which it may be proper to make \^^th regard to liis ministerial character and labours, Ave shall reserve for a subsequent part of this memoii*, Avhen they Avill be more appropriately introduced. MeanAvhile a few additional notices may be given of incidents in his history. He undertook, about the beginning of the present century, a benevolent and useful labour, in editing the Avell known posthumous Avorks of the pious Mr Meiklc, surgeon, CarnAvath. This good man, who Avas personally known to Mr Pcdclic only MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 81 for a fcAV years, had spent a gi-eat part of his life on board a British man-of-Avar, at a time when the country was engaged in active hostilities ; and had aftenvards retired to practise his toilsome pi'ofession in his native district, where he Avas caUed to exercise the office of the eldership in the Associate Congre- gation of Biggar, and continued till his death in 1799, highly esteemed for his many virtues. During his life time, he published a little work entitled " Metaphysical Maxims," which, we believe, was not received AAdth much favour by the public ; being, in truth, an attempt at a species of Avriting in Avhich the worthy author Avas not fitted to excel. But after his death, there Avas found, in his repositories, an immense collection of papers, reflecting no less credit upon the liveliness of his fancy and the fervour of his dcAOtion, than upon that extraordinary industry, Avhich could amass such a store, during the short and hurried intervals of a very laborious and changeful life. These manuscripts were put into Mr Peddie's hands ; and after no small labour in selecting, abridging, and correcting, he published seA'eral successive volumes of them, for the benefit of the AAudoAV and family of the deceased. Meikle's Select Remains appeared in 1801 ; his Solitude Sweetened in 1803 ; and the Traveller in 1805. His Miscel- laneous "Works were published in 1807 ; but whether, as the former volumes were, under Mr Peddie's care, we haA^e not been able to ascertain. By the religious public, especially by the humble and devout class to Avhich IMr Meikle belonged, these various productions were highly relished ; they have gone through several editions, and still possess a large cii'culation. To the Traveller, Mr Peddie prefixed a memoir of the author, draAATi chiefly from his letters and journals. It forms a useful and interesting piece of christian biography : haA-ing the advantage of exhibiting a life of vital religion, supported by the poAver of divine gi'ace in A'igour and fi-uitfulness, not only in many singularly varied but very trying situations. "We see in it a saint kept by the power of God, and maintaining his stedfastness in the faith unshaken, even in a state of long 82 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. exclusion from public ordinances, and in the society of persons ignorant of God. In the summer of 1802, Mr Peddie was sent to Cheshire, to begin a cause, in connection with the Associate Synod, by open- ing a chapel in the town of Stockport, from which a request for a supply of sermon had come. On this occasion, he enjoyed an opportunity of renewing intercourse with his friend and HaU companion, Mr Jack, Avho had recently been translated from Greenock, to what, under his acceptable ministry, soon became the flourishing and respectable congi-egation of Lloyd Street, Manchester. At the same time, INli- Peddie had the agi'eeable recreation of a tour through many of the towns of the north of England ; in particular, of visiting Chester, so noted for its antiquities, but more interesting to the Christian and the Non- conformist, as the scene of the life and labours of the venerable Matthew Henry. Presbyterianism seems never to have found in England a congenial soil, after the loose organization and the intolerant notions of the first Presbyterians (followed by the revolt of their descendants to Arian and Socinian error), had combined to fix in English minds a false impression of some connection between this form of church government and these evils. When imported from the sister country it has proved a sickly plant, generally in consequence of a failure in the mother church to water with care what she had well enough sown. Like many other attempts of the same kind, this, in Stockport, after a time proved discouraging, and finally gave way. A service of a different kind was devolved on Mr Peddie by the Associate Synod m the year 1806. Prior to that period, the congregations composing the association had been becoming rapidly more numerous, and accessions pouring in upon them from opposite extremities of the country. But while these tokens for good, and openings for the propagation of evangeli- cal doctrine were hailed by the Synod AA-ith joy, it was observed, with some alarm, that fewer young men than in former times, offered themselves as candidates for the ministry, MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 83 and that of those who commenced the course of study which the church deemed requisite for the creditable discharge of the ministerial duties, a greater proportion than in times past, went over to other denominations of Christians, or abandoned the work altogether for some secular employment. The conse- quences were becoming apparent in an increasing difficulty of supplying those charges which were left vacant by death, and of answering the new demands that were daily made upon them for a pure dispensation of the ordinances of the gospel. The Synod, on inquiry, had reason to apprehend that the growing aversion, manifested on the part of young men to engage in the work of the ministry in their communion, arose, in part, from the combined operation of two causes ; the increased expense of education for the ministry, and the greater disproportion, than in former times, betwixt the livings of Secession ministers, and the station in society which they tilled. They were led, therefore, to conceive that one means of preventing the growth of the evil they deplored, and of bringing forward a regular supply of pastors, must lie in exciting the people to make a more liberal provision for the subsistence of their ministers. A committee was appointed, and an address drawn np by IMr Peddie exposing the dangers that might accrue to the church, and urging the appropriate remedy. This address was sanctioned and published by the Synod under the title of " Address of the Associate Synod to the people under their charge, respecting the present scarcity of probationers, and the necessity of a more liberal provision for the support of ministers." To disarm prejudice by the force of christian motive, to excite liberality when it was more rare than noAv, and to take oif the appearance which to some minds, however unjustly, the subject might wear, of a secular and worldly spirit, the argument required to be conducted with delicacy and tact. Whether the execution fulfilled these conditions, a perusal of the address will satisfy the reader. It may be observed, that it is replete with sentiments of more extensive application than 84 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. to the temporary circumstances which originally called for the expression of them. The deep interest which Mi' Peddie took in the missionary cause from the commencement of what has proved emphatically the era of missions, has already heen adverted to. Having been invited by the Directors of the London Missionary Society to deliver one of the anniversary sermons for that great insti- tution, he gave his ready compliance, and preached in Surrey Chapel on May 10, 1809. The vast assemblage on such occasions, the multitude of ministers from all parts of the country, the four thousand voices of the worshippers, together with the sound of the organ shaking the house, and the other circumstances so novel and imposing to a stranger, have often been described. In a situation fitted to create anxiety, Mr Peddie preached with seeming composure and animation, and without dishonour to himself or the gospel he announced. His text was Psalm xlv. 17, "I will make thy name to be remembered in all generations ; therefore shall the people praise thee for ever and ever." " I hope," he says, writing after his task was done, to a near relative, " that I shall be preserved humble amidst the many encomiums on my discourse, and the many flattering attentions that are shown me." The discourse was published under the title of " Jehovah's care to perpetuate the Redeemer's name." The subject bears some similarity to the topic of his sermon preached before the Edinburgh Missionary Society, but is treated in a wholly different niauner ; and one may discern, perhaps, an improvement in greater condensation of thought, and more nerve, animation, and beauty of style. On the whole, this may, by many, be assigned a preference over any of his published discourses. The Bible Society is justly regarded as the right ai-m of the missionary cause. So close and beneficial is the connection betwixt these, that no zealous fiiend of the latter can be indifferent to the former. Mr Peddie " hailed the establish- ment of the British and Foreign Bible Society in 1804, as a blessing to the church and to the world." When its Edinburgh MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 85 auxiliary was formed in 1809, he became one of tlie secretaries, continued to hold that office for many years, and took an active share in the management of the society's business. " On becoming aware of the deviation of the parent society from one of the fundamental principles of its constitution, in the circulation of editions of the sacred Scriptures, with the apo- cryphal writings intermixed or appended, for the purpose of securing their reception where the inspired writings alone would have been refused, he heartily concurred in the employ- ment of the means which led to the discontinuance of the objectionable practice, and the obtaining of security against its renewal ; but on this end being gained, he cordially i-estored the confidence which had been temporarily shaken and with- held, and continued till death to regard that noble institution as one whose place no other could supply, and whose extinction would be one of the deepest Avounds that could be inflicted on the cause of our common religion and common race." This allusion, in the words of Dr Brown, to Dr Peddie's connection with the unhappy apocryphal controversy, is perhaps all that the case demands. "We shall only add, that he deeply deplored the spirit of bitter crimination that was let loose against the London Society ; he condemned the vii'ulence with which the good men, at the head of that institution, were pursued after they had given ample pledges that there should be no recuiTence of the errors into which they had been betrayed ; he was displeased with the whole manner in which the opposition was conducted, as not accordant with the christian temper, and calculated to sow permanent jealousies and enmities among brethren ; and he predicted that the result would be, to deaden the zeal of very many for the diffusion of the word of life. But he took no active share in the contro- versy. "When his views, in the committee of the Edinburgh Bible Society, were overborne, he quietly retired. Though at a former period of life engaged in controversial Avarfare, he was ever a devoted lover of peace ; and he was too far ad- vanced in years, at the time when the dispute broke out, to 86 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. gird on the harness which he had worn in youth. His venerable years, indeed, and approved character, did not suffice, altogether, to shield him fi'om the obloquy, in which others shared to a much larger extent ; but the only remark made by him was, in the language of David, " Let him curse, for God hath bidden him." Along with Dr Charles Stuart, Dr Hall, Mr Christopher Anderson, and Dr M'Crie, he was an originator of the Gaelic School Society. It is understood, we believe, that the idea of teaching the Highlanders to read the Scriptures, through the medium of their own language, which is the precise design of that society, was prst started by the eminent IVIr Charles of Bala, in a correspondence with John Brown of Wliitburn, and Ebenezer Brown of Inverkeithing. By these excellent brothers, whose zeal had already prompted them to various effiirts for the good of the Gaelic population, the idea was cherished and dif- fused. Taken up, in several quarters, by some friends of religion, and simultaneously occurring to others, the way was insensibly prepared for a definite movement in favour of the plan. Ultimately, a meeting was held, through means of the indivi- duals who have been named, at Avhich the foundation of the Gaelic School Society was laid. This was in the beginning of the year 1811. Dr Peddie remained a steady fi-iend of the institution till his death ; and, on that occasion, the directors, recording in their minutes an expression of their regret at his loss, characterised him as " one, to whom belonged the honourable distinction of having been one of the founders of the society ; Avho, from the period of its formation, and till prevented by advancing years, had devoted much time and labour to the promotion of its prosperity, whose profound practical wisdom had often been of the greatest service in its deliberations, and who had ever been ready to bring the influence of his station and advocacy to bear upon its interests." While thus energetically supporting public institutions, for extending a knowledge of the truth over a wide field, he was attentive to the use of any measures that could be devised, in MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 87 addition to the ordinary modes of ministerial diligence, for advancing'knowledge and piety among those who were the more direct objects of his care. In the year 1804, a school was, through his influence, instituted in connection with Bristo Street congregation, supported partly by subscriptions, partly by fees, with the design of securing a cheap scriptural educa- tion to the children of members in the humble classes of life, and of giving it gratuitously to those whose parents' circum- stances did not admit of their defraying the expense out of their own means. At the time when this school was founded, it was a still more necessary adjunct to a dissenting congrega- tion than it may now be considered, since the means of a good common education have become more plentiful in Edinburgh ; it has proved a source of invaluable benefit to many, and still continues to flourish. He likewise procured the erection of a congregational library in the year 1814, with the view of dilFusing a taste for reading, and raising the standard of intelli- gence among the members. This institution has since increased to a respectable magnitude. Allusion has been made in a former part of this memoir to a critical and tedious lawsuit, in connection with which Mr Peddie had the high satisfaction of promoting the interests of the Associate Synod in some important respects. The Perth cause, as this process is commonly called, began soon after the termination of the dispute about the formula, in 1799. The division produced by the discussions on this subject, occasioned corresponding divisions in several of the congregations of the Body ; and thus gave rise to questions between the parties, into which these congregations were split, as to their respective rights to the property belonging to them. In the outset these lawsuits involved no material principle. The subject of inquiry which they originated before the civil courts in most cases, principally regarded the numerical strength of the different parties ; it being held, that according as the majority of con- tributors, or heirs of contributors to the erection had gone, they would take the property. Accordingly, some of the causes 88 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. terminated in the property being adjudicated to the party adher- ing to the Synod, Avhen this party was shown to be a decided majoxity, and others of them by its being given to the separa- tists ; or if other principles were held to regulate the decision, they were not such as to involve any inquiry, whether, and how far those adhering to the Synod had deviated from the tenets of the society by Avhom the property had in the first instance been acquired. One of these causes related to the property of the congregation in Perth, a congregation, the pastoral charge of which happened to be collegiate, and the colleagues to take opposite sides in the conti'oversy ; the younger of the two, along with a majority of the people, adhering to the Synod, the older, along vnth a minority, embracing the views of the separatists, and withdrawing with them to form a new society. It does not consist with the limits and design of this memoir to enter into any detail of the various steps of this famous process, as it " drew its slow length along," from the commencement until the final decision, pronounced twenty years afterwards by the House of Lords, terminating the question as concerned the Synod, and at the same time estab- tablishing important legal principles affecting the property of dissenting communities. In the outset, and for a great many years, it did not assume any features of general interest to the church at large. Long and tedious discussions took place in regai'd to the number of the original contributors to the pur- chase and erection of the meeting-house, the different parties represented, and the pecuniary amount of the contributions ; and likewise, as to the various movements in the congregation and session, and the part they had taken in the Synod's discussions previous to the final separation. At last, in 1806, the Court of Session found that the property was held in trust, for a society of persons who contributed their money towards its erection or repair, by joining themselves, or along with others, forming a congregation of Christians, continuing in communion with and subject to the ecclesiastical discipline of the Associate Presbytery and Synod of Burgher Seceders ; and MEMOIR OF TH^ AUTHOR. 89 that the adherents to the Synod had the preferable right. This judgment was by the Old Light party appealed against to the House of Lords. There, as in the Court below, the separatists loudly charged the Synod, with having abandoned the peculiar principles of the Secession, and on this ground claimed the property, as having been acquired with a view to the mainte- nance of these principles; and in 1813, the cause was remitted back by their lordships to the Court of Session, with a direc- tion substantially to the effect, that they should inquire, whether, as pertinaciously alleged by the appellants, there had been a change in the religious principles of the Synod, and how the property was to be disposed of, if there were such a change. The cause thus assumed an aspect of the utmost importance to the whole Body, on the issue of which would depend the property, not only of the Perth Congregation, but of many others. It came now to turn upon the truth of the allegation by the Old Light party, that a departure from Secession prin- ciples was involved in the adoption of the preamble, and to this point, accordingly, the two parties directed their strength, labouring by every effort of learned ingenuity to convince the courts, that they were respectively in the right, and their opponents in the wrong. This state of matters having been represented to the Synod, they appointed a committee to collect and exhibit the evidence, that they had not abandoned their principles by what they had done in adopting the preamble, but still held the ground originally occupied by the founders of the Secession. Throughout the litigation, as well as in the other causes to Avhich the breach gave rise, ]Mr Peddie had previously, though not by synodical appointment, rendered important services to the parties adhering to the Synod who were involved in them, by aiding them ^dth his advice from time to time, and even attending consultations with the lawyers employed, and on him was devolved by the committee, the performance of the duty now required by the Synod's appoint- ment. He accordingly drew up a statement, embracing a view of the case as it bore on the point now in question ; and 90 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. this statement, having been sanctioned by the committee, and laid before the counsel employed in the cause, was by them printed verbatim, and presented to the Court of Session. There can be no doubt that to the operation of this convincing state- ment on the minds of the judges, was in a great measure attributable the favourable decision finally given in the case ; first, in the interlocutor of the Court of Session, February 1815, and secondly, in the judgment of the Lord Chancellor Eldon, when he dismissed the appeal, and afiirmed the sentence of the court below. Almost persuaded, in the first instance, as their lordships were, by the bold assertions of the separa- tists, that the Synod had relinquished every thing peculiar to them as Seceders, they were at length effectually undeceived ; and the decision which they pronounced contained a clear and unqualified declaration, that no foundation whatever existed for the charge of apostacy ; thus while it repelled the claim of the pursuers to the place of worship in Perth, and gave effec- tual protection to the temporal interests of not a few other congi-egations under the inspection of the Synod, vindicating the character of the Synod itself for consistency. The docu- ment which had so large a share in the securing of these results, was, after the interlocutor in 1815, ordered by the Synod to be printed for the satisfaction of the ministers and people in their communion. It was issued under the title of a " Statement of the evidence, that the Associate Synod in their late transac- tions respecting the formula, have not abandoned the original principles of the Secession." The services of Dr Peddie, in connection with this long contested cause, were not confined to the preparation of the paper which has been mentioned, important and decisive as this was in the struggle. In conjunction A^ath the other mem- bers of the Synod's committee, more especially with his esteemed brother, Dr Hall, he laboured in the management of the case with untiring zeal ; adAasing with the agents and the counsel, and furnishing, at every stage, materials and suggestions for their guidance, not only verbally, but in A\Titten notes, a mul- MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 91 titude of whicli remain to attest liis industry. On occasion of the appeal to the House of Lords, he was chosen by tlie com- mittee, including the representative of the Perth Congregation, to go to London, " as the fittest person to conduct the cause ; and we had ample reason," says a venerable surviAdng member of that committee, in a letter to the writer of this memoir, " to congi-atulate ourselves on the wisdom of our choice, as by his sound judgment and discretion, he was eminently successful in bringing the matter to that termination which has been most salutary and beneficial to our whole church." He spent several weeks in London, in attendance on this business, in 1818. It may seem superfluous at the present day, and after the statements which have been made, to institute any inquiry into the soundness of the line of defence which was adopted by the Synod and by Mr Peddie in pleading their cause. Great weight is surely to be attached in such a case to the opinion of neutral persons, like the judges of the land, accus- tomed to sift evidence, and to investigate nice and difiicult questions ; and their decision, as we have seen, was that it had not been proved that the Synod had departed from the ground occupied by their seceding ancestors. Ample proof indeed was adduced in the statement of evidence, both from the writings and the judicial deeds of these Avorthy men, that they condemned the doctrine, that religion may be maintained or propagated by force ; and what the Synod, in adopting the preamble, did, was simply to declare that they required no approbation on the part of their ministers or elders of the opposite doctrine, that compulsion in religion is lawful. Our readers, however, are probably aware, that when the volun- tary question came into public discussion, the greater part of the ministers who had constituted the Associate Synod (now united with the other branch of the Secession, and forming the United Associate Synod), and among others, Dr Peddie, advocated more extended views, pleading for the total severance of the Church from the State. They had, by this time, come to perceive that the formerly repudiated principle 92 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. of compulsion, is of more extensive application than to cases of persecution, popularly so called ; they saw that it enters essentially into the theory of civil establishments of religion ; and they held that as they had expressly excepted in the assent given to the standards of the church, against anything which favoured compulsory or persecuting measures, they were at fuU liberty to denounce the union between Church and State as involving, in its very nature, an ultimate appeal to such measures. Whether they now relinquished the origi- nal principles of the Secession, there is perhaps room for debate. The decision of the point will chiefly turn on the question, whether the opinions understood to be embraced under the general designation Voluntaryism, are a fair corollary from the doctrine of the fathers of the Secession, that religion is not to be maintained or propagated by force. If these opinions do natively flow from that doctrine, then those Seceders who embraced them, cannot be said to have abandoned the principles of their fathers, but rather to have pushed them to their legitimate consequences. It cannot, of course, be pretended that the four brethren, or their imme- diate successors, were consciously or explicitly opposed to the alliance of Church and State ; but neither were they in their own persuasion, opposed to any part of the Confession of Faith, Avith which, however, where it treats of the magistrate's power, their views of spiritual freedom cannot be reconciled. Indeed, on this head, that excellent summary is not consistent with itself.' But it may be affirmed, that in the wi-itings of the seceding fathers will be found the distinct germ of that of which Voluntaryism is only the development. What we are chiefly concerned, however, to remark at present, as connected with the reputation of the subject of this Memoir, is that the plea of the non-abandonment of Secession principle, was ad- vanced in all good faith. He, and those with whom he was associated in the dispute about the formula, did not regard ' See pp. 01, 62. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 93 the rejection of the magistrate's power in religion, as involvino- any denial of the lawfulness of ecclesiastical establishments. This we must believe, if we consider them men of common honour or conscience; for this they frequently asserted in the course of the controversy itself, and of the lawsuit that sprang out of it. Their views at that period were exactly similar to what we must suppose to be the views of many in other Presbyterian churches, in which no alteration has been made on the standards, who condemn compulsion in religion, when it assumes the more naked and repulsive form of perse- cution or intolerance, but who do not object to it as involved in the state support of the church. It is a baseless calumny, for which not a shadow of proof can be advanced, that has been thrown out against the New Light men in the Synod, that the extent of the change in the Standards was artfully concealed by them until no hazard could result from the avowal. Their convictions were gradually matured, and it was not till long after the controversy, to which so much reference has been made, that they became inimical to the Avhole system of state interference with religion. They then openly avowed their opinions without much solicitude as to whether they could still be considered as resting on the ancient basis. They were still pursuing the great ends of the Secession, as a practical testimony for religious freedom, and as a church holding the Presbyterian order and seeking the glory of God in the conversion of souls. The question with them was, as it ought always to be, not, What said the fathers of our church ? but, What say the apostles of the Lord ? And they Avere men who could not sacrifice the interests of scriptural truth to consistency in error. ^ In the year 1818, Mr Peddie received a gratifying mark of ' In the Campbelton cause, decided in 1839, a majority of the judges of the Court of Session expressed very decided opinions, that regarding the Confession of Faith in a legal point of view, it contained nothing which binds those who subscribe it to the support of civil establishments of religion, or opposed to the adoption of the voluntary principle.— See Struthers' His- tory, pp. 531-540. 94 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. distinction, when tlie University of Marisclial College, Aber- deen, conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. This literary honour was pleasing to him, as it was bestowed by that learned body without solicitation or influence, and at a time too, when it was comparatively rare to confer academi- cal dignities on dissenting ministers ; but it was a source of still gi-eater satisfaction to the numerous circle of friends and the congregation to whom he was justly dear. " Every one," says Dr Brown, " felt that it was fit, that he who had secured for himself so high a reputation as a christian teacher, should , receive the title that expresses the respect which he already possessed." During the summer of the following year, at the request of the students of the Selkirk Theological Hall, he edited a volume of sermons by different ministers of the Associate Synod ; the publication being designed, by its sale, to enable the students to enrich the Hbrary with a few valuable books which they did not possess sufficient funds to purchase. Besides a short preface, he contributed to this volume a sermon, entitled " Angels in- structed by the Church," founded on the words of Paul, in Eph. iii. 10, " To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places might be known by the church, the manifold wisdom of God." This was his last appearance from the press, in connection with the Associate Synod. For, on the 8th of September .1820, that body became united with the other gi-eat branch of the Secession, from which it had been so long divided, — an event which excited deep interest at the time in all evangelical denominations, and which must occupy permanently a distin- guished place in the ecclesiastical annals of this country. The union, when it took place, was an unprecedented example, and still amidst many opposite instances of rupture and divi- sion, is the most noted example of close cordial incorporating union betwixt two different and once hostile christian bodies. Nothing could have been more unlikely than such an event, at the time when Dr Peddie began his ministry ; and even at MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 95 a much more recent date, it seemed in no small degree improbable, in consequence of mutual jealousies existing between tbe parties. But the healing hand of time had surely, though slowly, removed asperities of feeling ; the original causes of quarrel had come to be viewed through the retrospect of years, in a more mild and just light, than they appeared at the time to the passions of the combatants ; the evil of dis- union had been learned from experience ; by mutual inter- course on the part of individuals, and especially co-operation in various philanthropic undertakings, particularly the sacred cause of missions, their views had been expanded, and a spirit of sincere mutual esteem and fraternal affection had sprung up. In short, the time to favour Zion was come, even the set time, and the prayers of the lovers of concord were answered. It was with unfeigned satisfaction that Dr Peddle heard of the first movements towards union ; the subject was one quite congenial to his spirit ; he took part in the preliminary negotiations ; was a most useful member of the joint commit- tee appointed by the two Synods, contributing his share of influence, by joining in their discussions, towards the removal of difficulties, and the formation of a satisfactory basis of union ; and when the desired consummation was arrived at, he very cordially rejoiced; he rejoiced in it as a public triumph of christian charity, as the healing of a disgraceful schism, and as the probable prelude of other and yet more beneficial changes in the outward condition of the body of Christ. Perhaps it might impart to the event, a degree of additional interest in his mind, that the union was formally effected in Bristo Street Church, the place where he statedly laboured, and on the same spot which, seventy-three years before, had witnessed the breach. It deserves to be subjoined, that after the union no one was more desirous than he to act in the true spirit of it, completely burying those little past differences in sentiment or feeling which were in danger of reviving after the first glow of frater- nal affection had cooled, so as to occasion the petty but mis- I 96 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. chievous bickerings of party, which are all the more apt to be indulged when they are accompanied Avith a security that they cannot tend to any fatal issue. Having had the honour, a few years afterwards, to be chosen Moderator of the United Asso- ciate Synod, he, at the opening of the ensuing meeting on the 12th of September 1825, preached a sermon containing many wise and seasonable counsels on this and kindred topics connected with the interests of the united body. The discourse, wliich was founded on Rom. xiv. 16, " Let not then your good be evil spoken of," was published at the request of those who heard it, under the title of " Care for the Reputation of our Religious Profession Recommended and Enforced." Dr Peddie had now advanced far into years. He had for a long period performed with great credit to himself and satisfaction to others the duties of a high and honourable station, as well as of an arduous charge. No symptoms as yet appeared that his people were wearying of his public services ; but in the course of events they were led kindly to provide him with one to ease him of part of that labour which, undivided, was be- coming too heavy for him, and must have been much more so ere many years had elapsed. On the 7th of October 1828, the waiter of these lines, having a short time before been licensed as a preacher of the gospel, and called by the congregation, was ordained as colleague and successor to his father in the pastoral charge. It had long been the wish of Dr Peddie, that his people should be provided with one to succeed himself, before he should die or become inefficient ; this had been his wish from a painful recollection of the condition in which his pre- decessor had left the congregation, and he had found it; as well as from his knowledge of the hazards to which all large societies are exposed at such critical seasons as the election of a pastor ; it had been his wish before he could have any pro- spect that he should have a son a preacher of the gospel, and a preacher at the very time that his people might v\^sh to give him assistance, and he therefore felt it to be a very signal instance of the kindness of providence, as well as a new token added to MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 97 many, of the affection of his people, when their choice was directed to fix on one whom they well knew he would approve, nay who of all others (there can be no indelicacy in saying it), behoved to be to him the most acceptable, since he could literally " serve as a son with a father in the gospel of Christ." It was therefore with a full heart, when the call from Bi-isto Street came before the Synod, in competition with another of inferior claims, that Dr Peddie pleaded, for his own sake as one of the eldest servants of the church, as well as for the sake of his people, that the former should be preferred ; and with grateful joy that he obtained the object of his wishes. He preached the ordination sermon from 2 Cor. iv. 7, " But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." He also offered up the ordination prayer. These services he performed in a manner that shewed he had lost little of the fire and imagina- tion of youth. He was spared, indeed, in the kind providence of God, after this event, for more than seventeen years ; and how wisely he counselled his junior helper, — how tenderly he encouraged him, — how readily he aided, and patiently drew with him, in the same yoke, — how humbly he sat as one of the flock to receive instruction and consolation from his ministry, notwithstanding its many imperfections, busy memory may dwell on with fond and grateful delight, but the pen refuses to express. " He still brought forth fruit in old age, when others fail, to show that the Lord is upright, He is a rock, there is no unright- eousness with him." On the 9th of August 1832, there was a public entertainment given by the members of his congregation, which was attended also by a very large number of other friends, to congratulate him on his having attained the fiftieth year of his ministry as their pastor, and to present him with a piece of plate of no small value, as a token of their united respect. This occasion was very gi'atifying to his feelings; and the gift, presented with so much generosity, was the more valuable in his eyes, that it was not the exclusive gift of a £ 98 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. few individuals, in more affluent circumstances, but the joint gift of a great many, who, though in an inferior station, were desirous that their mite should form a component part of what they considered as a congregational testimony of affection and esteem. On that occasion, it is remembered, that Dr Peddie, while thanking them for their liberality and uniform respectful kindness, alluded to many past incidents in his own history, and that of the congregation, in which his lot had been cast ; and speaking in reference to the gift that had been put into his hands, in his own characteristic manner, he used very nearly these terms before concluding his address : " What I see before me, confirms me in the opinion, which I have long en- tertained, that a minister of the gospel who endeavours con- scientiously to discharge his duty, and to live as becometh the gospel, needs no other security than the conscience and affec- tion of his people for his temporal support. Whether any par- ticular sum was ever promised me by my congregation is more than I certainly know. I have searched, and can find no record of it. But I have been comfortably provided for. What I had reason to expect has been as regularly paid as if it had been contained in a bond. Yea, in proportion to the ideas which my people formed of their own abiUty, and of my necessity, they have, without solicitation on my part, and with- out any sentence of the Court of Teinds compelling them, added and added to my provision, till it has been nearly quadrupled. Yea more, after having burdened themselves voluntarily with the support of another to aid me in old age, they have this day devised liberal things ; and given the lie to those argumentations, and those fears, which would per- suade men that a legal security is needful for any that would be found faithful." It will appear, fi-om the scope of these observations, that Dr Peddie had now cordially embraced those views of the true principle of supporting religious institutions, which ai-e known by the name of Voluntaryism, and for the adoption of which he had been gradually prepared by the opinions he espoused MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 99 in the controversy respecting the magistrate's power. It was only, however, a very few years before this period that he had reached full and settled conviction on this important subject. We distinctly remember, that when the late Mr Ballantyne's work in opposition to ecclesiastical establishments first ap- peared, the perusal of it startled rather than convinced him: he expressed no approval of its sentiments, but seemed rather to cling to the prevailing theory, and to be averse to the dis- turbance of the public peace by a question of so momentous a nature being brought into discussion. Cautious and moderate in the whole tone and temper of his mind, he was not disposed to rush into new opinions on any subject, however plausibly these might be supported, without having viewed the matter on aU sides, and maturely weighed the consequences. His accession to any cause was, however, only so much the more valuable; and after his jvidgment had once been formed, there was no one who could act with more decision, or proceed with more inflexible firmness to the duties which the circumstances might seem to him to impose. He was fully alive to the importance of the movement against national churches made by the evangelical Dissenters of Scotland, with so much spirit and efiect, in the year 1 832, when the gi-eat question of the alliance of Church and State, from being a merely speculative matter, passed into earnest national debate. Of this movement he cordially ap- proved, and he threw his weight into it; cheerfully giving, " not merely the influence of his honoured name to what he considered as the cause of truth, and right, and freedom, but, as far as his advanced age permitted, his active support. He was in the chair when the Voluntary Church Association was formed, 13th September 1832; and he presided at its public meetings till prevented by increasing infirmities."^ In the strife which was speedily awakened by this movement, though he did not escape altogether from party vituperation, he felt no disquietude. Having acted from a good conscience, and being deeply per- 1 Dr Brown's Sermon. 100 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. suaded that vast and salutary effects, directly and indirectly, were to flow from the controversy, he remained a tranquil and gratified spectator, while these effects developed themselves in rapid succession, in the political and ecclesiastical changes which followed. In particular, "the struggles made in the Established Church, which terminated in the disruption of that body, were regarded by him with intense and friendly interest; and he cordially rejoiced when the brethren of the Free Church of Scotland, by so noble a sacrifice, obtained possession of that liberty with which Christ makes all his churches fi-ee. He witnessed the remarkable procession from St Andrew's Church to Canonmills Hall with tears of satis- faction, saying, with a voice faltering with emotion, ' I never hoped to live to see this day.'"^ The year 1833 being the centenary of the Secession Church, the United Associate Synod appointed him to preach before them at their meeting in the April of the following year, when solemn thanksgivings were to be " offered up to God for the blessings confeiTed on, and the good done by, the Secession during the hundred years which had elapsed since it took its rise." He was prevented, in the providence of God, from ful- filling this honourable appointment by a severe attack of erysipelas laying him aside for some months from public duty, and leaving behind it a neuralgic affection in the eyebrow, which occasioned him acute suffering. From this illness he recovered sufiiciently to be present on the occasion referred to, but not so as to permit of his taking part in conducting the services; the particular service that had been assigned to him being most ably and appropriately discharged in his stead by the Rev. Dr Fraser of Kennoway, the worthy descendant and biographer of the Erskines. After this time, his health and strength were gradually and so completely restored, that he was able to resume almost all his wonted duties. Yet the occasions became more and more rare, subsequently to this ' Dr Brown's Sermon. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 101 date, on which he appeared in connection with matters of public interest. He was deeply conscious of the decay of nature. Growing infirmities, and, more especially, the distressing priva- tion of increasing deafness, disposed him to retire as much as possible from the scenes of public life, where he felt that he could no longer be useful to the same extent as in his better days, and where other individuals had risen up, who had not the same burden of years to sustain in labouring for the cause of God and truth. Partly from inclination, partly from a con- viction of propriety and of the seeming indications of the will of Providence, he now confined himself, as far as circumstances would permit, to his more private or pastoral duties, to light reading, or the society of friends, and the enjoyments of the domestic circle. Still, however, he retained his mental activity and cheerfulness, took an interest in all public questions, and hailed with delight every auspicious sign of the times. For it has been justly observed, that " nothing was more remarkable as a characteristic of his mind than its aptitude to the very last to keep pace with the age — its tendency to extend, rather than to contract its views — to share in the progress of all the gi-eat questions, which mark, while they agitate, the times we live in."' The greater part of the appearances made by him from the press, up to this date, have already been noticed. They were Jill occasional, consisting in the publication of what must either not have been written, or have slept among his private papers, had not their appearance been urged by considerations which his wUlingness to oblige, or his desire to serve public interests, did not permit him to resist. At the proper place, we ne- glected to mention, and, but for a wish to give a complete list of all his recognizable publications, might omit altogether to state, that among other contributions to periodicals, he sent some papers to the Religious Monitor (a respectable jour- * Christ's Resurrection the Pledge and Pattern of the Resurrection of his People : a Sermon delivered on occasion of the death of the Rev. James Peddie, D.D., by James Harper, D.D. 102 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. nal, commenced in 1803, and enjoying a good circulation), two of which we are able to identify, namely, articles in the eighth volume, " On the Observance of Christmas," combat- ing successfully the arguments on that subject of popish and episcopalian Avi-iters. " The Hand of God in Public Ca- lamities," preached on the 21st November 1824, on occasion of the gi-eat fire in the city of Edinburgh, was a discourse pub- lished by him at the close of that year. He also gave to the press two funeral discourses, preached after the death of inti- mate fi-iends: " Death to Christians a Sleep," a sermon occasioned by the death of the Eev. Thomas Brown, D.D., minister of the first United Associate Congregation of Dal- keith, preached at Dalkeith, June 8, 1828; and "The Burial of Stephen," a sermon delivered, on occasion of the death of the Rev. John Dick, D.D., Professor of Theology to the United Secession Church, in Greyfriars' Church, Glasgow, 3rd February 1833. He was the author, it may be added, of a short address by the United Associate Presbytery of Edin- burgh to the sessions of the several congregations under their inspection, published in 1831. He contributed to the Ame- thyst, a religious annual, 1832, a paper entitled, "Bigotry Exemplified," being expository remarks on the conduct of the Samaritan villagers on occasion of our Lord's journey to Jeru- salem, as recorded in Luke ix. 51-56; and he sent to the first volume of the Christian Teacher, a weekly religious maga- zine, two sermons " On the Religious Education of Solomon," Prov. iv. 3, 4, " For I was my father's son, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother. He taught me also." From criticism on these various productions we refrain: a more competent judge has said of liis publications generally, that "some of them are possessed of extraordinary merit; all of them are worthy of their author." His last publication was his "Lectures on the Book of Jonah." These were oi'iginally delivered at monthly lectures in his own church on the evenings of the Lord's day, and, in the first instance, were permitted, in consequence of solicita- MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 103 tion, to be printed in the United Secession Magazine, in detached portions. Having thus, as he states in the preface, become a kind of public property, they were collected, and published, in 1842, in a separate small volume. "To the friends and admu'ers of the venerable author," it was re- marked in a friendly review which soon afterwards appeared, " and all that know him will be disposed to rank themselves among the number, the volume will be peculiarly acceptable. They will see from it that, advanced as he is in age, his eye has apparently not waxed dim, and that his mind has scarcely lost anything of its former activity and vigour; and it will remain with them as a memorial of the wisdom and skilfulness by which he was distinguished as a teacher of righteousness. For ourselves, we receive it somewhat in the way that a child would receive the parting gift of an affectionate parent, and with something of the same feeling will we preserve and cherish it." Concurring in the opinion that these lectures are a valuable legacy to the church, a luminous and interesting exposition of one (not the least important) of the inspired books, we, nevertheless, cannot regard them as altogether a fair specimen of what his powers as an expositor of Scripture at one time were. They were composed by him late in life; and they were written, instead of being spoken after meditation, as all his other lectures were. In this highest, most useful, and most difficult department of public instruction, Dr Peddie, from a very early period, was admitted greatly to excel. His celebrity as a lecturer procm'ed him, while in his prime, the attendance on Lord's day mornings, besides his ordinary hearers, of many of the students of divinity, not only of his own communion, but of the Established Church, and of other denominations ; not a few of whom have been ready to acknowledge the great benefit they derived from his lectures, after they themselves had been called to the charge of congregations. And whenever indi- viduals who sat under his ministry, or only occasionally heard him, have referred to the pleasure or improvement they 104 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. received, it has been usually of his lectures (excellent as they admitted all his pulpit ministrations to be) of which they have spoken with the most glowing delight. No one who remarked the order, the fulness of illustration, the finished phraseology, and the historical skill displayed in these lectures, would ever have imagined that they were wholly unwritten. His custom, at the beginning of his minis- try, was to compose and write them out with care. But in the course of even a few months after his settlement, this practice was partially abandoned; until at length fastidious- ness, want of leisure, and, especially, experience of complete success in the art of speaking from premeditation, led him to dispense entirely with the use of written notes in any form. There were many years in which, as we believe, he did not even jot the outline of a single lecture. Nor among his manu- scripts do there remain more than imperfect portions of a very few lectures, on particular parts of the sacred volume, to show that, after the first year of his ministry, he on any occasion ever made preparation in this way for his public appearances. His lectures on Jonah, together -with a few, delivered in the same course, on the book of Daniel, were quite an exception to the rule. Extempore speaking, however, was not in his case attended with those bad consequences which commonly result from habitual indulgence in that mode of pulpit address. Though not a copious or fluent debater ; though seldom, there- fore, taking a prominent share in discussions in the church courts, and when rising to speak there^ listened to ^vith eager- ness, chiefly for the sake of his opinion, to a brief statement of which he ordinarily confined himself, he yet possessed extem- poraneous powers of a kind well suited to the pulpit, especially in exposition. "We have no hesitation, indeed, in afllirming, that, had his stated lectures been first ■\\Titten, and then delivered from memory, while retaining all their lucidness of explanation, their excellent method, and their striking lessons of practical wisdom, they must have lost much of the liveliness, the naive expression, the point, animation, and fluency, and MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 105 the dramatic interest which characterised them. In another point of light, however, it must be admitted to be matter of infinite regret that they were not secured by writing. For " it has been thought by many of his most intelligent hearers, that had his lectures been written, as in his long ministry he expounded almost the entire volume of inspiration, they would have formed a more useful practical commentary than any that exists."^ By the observations that have been made, it is far from being meant that his lectures Avere not the fruit of careful preparation. After life was weU advanced with him, having been long habituated to the exercise, much previous cogita- tion, certainly, was neither needed nor practised by him ; the ample stores of knowledge he had acquired could be brought by him to bear, with the utmost ease, and very effectively, upon any bibhcal subject that presented itself; nor were his preparations at any time characterised either by duU plodding or by feverish anxiety. But study was his rule ; and study was uniformly expended, as much as circumstances would allow, upon every topic, and before every occasion, of piablic ministration. The sacred text was first carefully considered; the best interpreters, ancient and modern, were consulted, his favourite commentator, however (who was the favourite also of Robert Hall), being the good Matthew Henry; he then fully meditated the principal points, and disposed the whole subject in his mind. Thus he was far fi'om serving God with that which cost him nought. No one could be more hostile than he to habits of slight preparation and remissness in study. He often cautioned brethren against relaxing their diligence in these duties. " Our diligence in study," he said on one occasion, " must be as long as our capacity for labour. To ex- temporize" (meaning to speak without due preparation) " arises from a presumptuous confidence in our knowledge and power of expression, which ere long will degenerate into loose declama- ' Dr Brown's Sermon. 106 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. tion and disgusting verbiage. It will ere long impoverish our minds. The richest mind >vill, like the best soil, run wild, if the laboui- of cultivation be discontinued; and instead of a rich crop of what is fit for the use of man, will send up a rank abundance of useless Aveeds, which will rise above the soil, and almost choke the thin and scattered stalks of good and wholesome grain. Hence, rather than from the decay of their powers, many have scarcely passed the middle period of hfe, before their talents became shrivelled and their usefulness diminished." Dr Peddie was wont to lecture on the forenoon of every Lord's day, as is the custom indeed in most of the Presbyterian churches, going regularly through the sacred books, and com- monly alternating every fortnight the Old Testament Avith the New. He lectured in this way, as has already been stated, in the course of his long ministry, through the greater part of the inspired volume; and some parts of it he went over twice ; those on which he did not venture being a few of the books of the prophets. His custom was, to take at one time neither so many verses as to reduce him to the necessity of making his discourse a mere running comment, nor yet, on the other hand, so few, as to convert it into a series of short sermons or essays on different points. His general idea of a lecture was a practical commentary upon a passage of Scrip- ture, with as much criticism as is necessary to show the just interpretation, with such amplifications as may render it useful to ordinary hearers, and with such unity as shall sufficiently distinguish it from detached notes. His mode, of course, varied with the nature of the subject and the form of the passage; but, whatever was the mode, he paid attention both to the meaning of the separate phrases, and to that of the entire sentence; and the connection of the thought in the mind of the wT^ter was both attended to and stated. His first object was to bring out cleai-ly the mind of the Spirit ; and then, having explained the meaning, he looked round in all directions for the practical conclusions. He thought that MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 107 lecturing, conducted in this manner, was an exercise admir- ably adapted to train the people to read the Scriptures for themselves, and to reflect upon their meaning. He thought also that it possessed this advantage among others, that it enabled the preacher to touch upon useful and necessary topics, which could not be introduced into a sermon without the appearance of an intention to strike at particular evils or per- sons, and of going out of the way to reach them ; but that practical lessons, however specific, brought naturally out of the word of inspiration as he went along, fell upon the mind of the hearer with all the force of surprise, and vnth. the full authority of immediate divine injunction. The remarks we now make, like many tliroughout this memou', may probably be ascribed to the natural partiality of relationship ; yet when called on to give an account of one, as a man and a servant of the church, whom we were accus- tomed only to revere as a father, and therefore to state the sincere and deeply engraven impressions of the mind in refer- ence to his varied qualities, we must be permitted still further to observe, that to us Dr Peddie appeared always to possess a singular power of fetching out the meaning of a scriptural passage simply and fully, by a few happy strokes, and so as not only to make it intelligible to the bluntest understanding, but to commend it to the mind, as the evident import of the sacred language. As if by instinct, he seemed to know how to enter into the subject, and lay it best out for comprehension and profit. We regard him as having been strictly methodical in his lectures; but the " artis est celare artem," was a quality he possessed in much perfection; and though most methodical, his expository discourses were very easy and varied. At the beginning of his ministry, in conformity with the fashion then prevailing in the Secession, it was his custom to separate to a considerable extent between the explanatory matter and the doctrinal and practical inferences, which were afterwards gathered up and stated in formal propositions, after every verse, or at the conclusion of the discourse. But he subse- 108 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. quently abandoned this method ; and wove in -svith great skill what was didactic and hortatory with the course of the explanation, without breaking the continuity of the perform- ance, and so as to render it more lively, rich, and instructive. He never spent much time in discussing before his audience what might be the meaning of the oi-iginal. His lectures therefore had nothing of the dryness of an exegesis, while they were as remote from the discursiveness of a sermon. To the original he rarely referred, except when the deviation from it of the English version was too important not to be adverted to; or when he judged it necessary to remind the people that the genuine text, and not the translation, is the standard of our faith ; or thought it beneficial to show them, that in his case the total absence of pedantry and parade arose from no lack of erudition. In short, however searching and deliberate might have been his investigation in private, the grounds on which he had formed his judgment he did not state, unless they were of a nature which the bulk of his audience could appreciate. The subjoined observations we think happily expressive of his OAvn practice. " Let us," he said, addi-essing ministers of the gospel, " not deal largely in verbal criticism. If we ever venture on this, and my opinion is that it ought to be seldom, we ought in ordinary cases to give the result of our inquiries, rather than the steps by which we arrived at our conclusion, iddch, after all, must with the mul- titude rest on our authority; if ever, I say, we venture on this, let us follow it up immediately vni\\ something practical and interesting to the heart. Let us clothe the dry bones with flesh and skin, and infuse spirit and life into them. Let us sprinkle all with that holy unction which is found by experi- ence to give to discourses a peculiar relish with the truly pious, and eminently fit them for touching the conscience and warming the heart." It was much more his custom to write his sermons than to write his lectures; perhaps we should say that his sermons were usually composed in this way, more or less fully, and MEMOIR OP THE AUTHOR. 109 then transferred to the memory ; this last being -w^ith him no very laborious process. His action sermons, in particular, or sermons delivered before sacramental occasions, were usually written fuUy out, and with much exactness ; and in them, we may add, he seemed to put forth all his strength. Then especially did his powers shine fully out ; and multitudes " were willing for a season to rejoice in his light." It has been justly observed, that many of his sermons were of an expository character — not " mere disquisitions on a selected topic of doctrine or pi*actice, but condensed and singularly luminous exhibitions of the passage he discoursed on in its bearings and in its connection." ^ He very frequently preached trains or courses of sermons, sometimes on connected topics, at other times on a series of texts standing together in the Bible ; thus he gave a series of discourses on the Lord's prayer, on the parables of the prodigal son, and of the tares in the field ; on the history of Christ, on the history of Stephen, on the 8th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, on the precepts in 1 Thess. V. 15-22, and such like. But whatever was their subject, they were always scriptural, and always studded with apt quotations of scripture, the brightest ornaments of an evangelical discourse. They were always full of the bread of life, full of Christ and his cross, full of what was fitted to be food for souls. They were eminently clear and well arranged; the hearer could at once see the course he pro- posed to foUow, and often experienced the delusion, so common when the sentiments are eminently just and natural, and rise up in the very order that seems most proper, of thinking that such preaching must be easy, and that he could have said the same things himself. His preaching was eminently instructive — uniformly fitted for the use of edifying ; not only, therefore, was a pure and plain diction employed, but technical expressions as much as possible avoided, that he might not overshoot the bulk of his audience ; for as he, on one occasion, ' l)r Harper's Sermon. 110 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. felicitously expressed it, " we must speak not to the few, who are better educated, but to the multitude, that all may profit, and that the most unlearned and the widows may not be neglected in the daily ministration." Sometimes, if we may be allowed the remark, in his earlier discourses on figurative texts, he perhaps pursued the figure too long, and pressed it too much ; this, however, in his case, did not grow tiresome ; and the extreme ingenuity he discovered, together with the vigour of the sentiment, and the skill with which all was rendered subservient to evangelical instruction, atoned for the slight violation of rhetorical rule. The following is the general estimate of his character as a preacher, furnished by Dr Brown, in the short Memoir appended to his sermon delivered on occasion of his death. " He never wasted your time with any speculations, or ' striving about words to no profit' — questions ' ministering strife rather than godly edifying.' The saving truths of Christ's gospel — the great things of God's law, were the staple materials of his discourses ; and in treating them, he spoke in the tone of a man who knew that the word he uttered, being God's word, ' outweighed in the balance of reason as well as of the sanctuary, all earth's plans, and politics, and interests.' He ' approved himself unto God a workman that needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.' In doctrine he showed uncorruptness, gi'avity, sincerity, sound speech, that could not be condemned ; and he ' spoke with authority,' knowing that the doctrine he delivered was not his but his Master's ; and the word which he spake, that which would judge both himself and you at the last day. " Thei-e was something peculiarly pointed in many of his statements. They were generally clear as a sunbeam, and often singularly striking. They were like ' the words of the wise, as goads, and as nails.' This, with his extreme distinct- ness of method, rendered him in a remarkable degree a memo- rable preacher. " His primary object was to instruct. Pie aimed at the MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. Ill heai't, but it was always through the understanding. And he was an eminently practical preacher. Every thing he said had obviously its aim ; and no attentive hearer found any difficulty in answering the question, What are these things to me?" Of the fruits of his labours it becomes us to speak with caution. The day will declare. Yet if the testimony of indi- viduals regarding their own experience, or the christian lives and peaceful or ti'iumphant deaths of others, can sufficiently ascertain saving results, we may, with no little confidence, affirm that, through the accompanying gi-ace of the Holy Spirit, his ministry was an instrument of very extensive spiritual good. Many, there can be no reasonable doubt, owed to it their conversion, many were strengthened by it, many comforted and built up in their most holy faith. We are per- suaded not a few to whom the gospel preached by him was the poAver of God, and the wisdom of God, unto salvation, " welcomed him to the peaceful habitation of the spirits of just men made perfect ; and that many more, who are also his spiritual children, will follow after to be welcomed by him to that region of light and life." We have adverted chiefly to Dr Peddie's manner of per- forming his public ministerial duties ; but there would be an important omission did we not refer to his prudence and faith- fulness in the more private duties of his office. For many years he kept up with gi'eat regularity the good old practice of public catechising. But although this service, as conducted by him, was peculiarly instructive, and was managed so as not to prove a severe ordeal to any, he was forced to discontinue it. The changes which haA^e taken place in the manners of society, and the growing invincible aversion of the people to submit to the exercise in question, have at length brought it into complete desuetude in all the great towns, — a thing, we cannot help thinking, much to be re- gretted ; for what adequate substitute has been devised for it among the more modern helps to ministerial usefulness ? The 112 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. visitation of the flock was considered by him the sacred duty of a christian pastor ; and he regarded the sick and the dying among them as his peculiar care. He entered deeply by sympathy into their afflictions, and was conscientious in wait- ing upon them in their seasons of distress, to administer with wisdom, fidelity, and tenderness, the instructions and consola- tions of religion. He could not visit with desirable frequency even the cases of acute illness occurring in his very numerous charge, much less overtake those of the many old, bedrid, or infirm persons belonging to it, who, being deprived of the public ordinances, peculiarly needed the private help of pious conversation and prayer. But he was assiduous in discharging these duties to the utmost of his ability, so long as his strength remained, and until his sense of hearing had become so much impaired as to render intercourse with persons under pain or sickness difficult or impracticable. He very rarely paid visits of ceremony, or made social calls. But he systematically prosecuted, with great perseverance, the ministerial visitation of families even after old age occasioned the duty to be attended with great bodily exhaustion. It served, in his case, a more valuable purpose than the maintenance of mutual interest and friendly intercourse betwixt a pastor and the members of his flock, though even that is an important consideration: his exhortations on such occasions were admirably adapted to the state and circumstances of respective famiUes ; and having the advantage of being addi-essed to a few, where it was more difficult to avoid a personal application of the truth, they were often exceedingly useful in rousing the conscience, and per- suading to the duties of personal and family religion. His sagacity and tact enabled him at such times to turn to good account the knowledge he had of the characters of his people. For it is worthy of notice, that he possessed a very remarkable recollection of individuals. Though his charge at one time could not consist of fewer than 1700 or 1800 members, there were not many of these whom he could not recognise, and whose circumstances and history, so far as he had been made MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 113 acquainted with them, he could not accurately call up. His people, indeed, were ready to exaggerate his powers of recog- nition, the keenness of his observation from the pulpit as to the degree of attention to public ordinances, and his knowledge of then* circumstances and connections. But as an impression of this kind was salutary, as serving the pui'pose of a check against the neglect of duty, he seldom sought to undeceive them. Indeed, when persons of whom he was really ignorant conversed with him, under the belief that he remembered them, their names and employments, he could skilfully avoid giving them the pain of discovering themselves to be unknown, and direct the conversation so adi'oitly, as soon to supply the defect by obtaining a clue to the necessary knowledge. It is generally admitted, we believe, that his extraordinary sagacity, his penetration of character, and his quickness in apprehending all the circumstances of a case, rendered his advice peculiarly valuable, and fitted his counsels and reproofs to be beneficial in no ordinary degree. In his later days his venerable age and matured experience added much weight to the counsels that fell from him ; but he was always distin- guished for the faculty of saying the right thing in the right way, when persons stood in need of warning or guidance. His counsels were eminently " words in season," as well as " words fitly spoken;" and it is well known how much more often depends for the efficacy of instructions upon the season when they are communicated, than upon the matter which is deli- vered. He " knew the time to speak, and the time to be silent." We have often heard individuals quote, after a long lapse of years, the expressions which he had used to them upon some particular occasion ; when it was evident that though the observation, perhaps, was only what another indi- vidual could have made, it had yet been the very thing that was suited to the particular circumstances, and had from its seasonableness made an indelible impression. " The words of the wise are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies." His reproofs were fitted to be very effective, not 114 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. from their severity, but from their wisdom and mildness, and from his knowledge of the vulnerable points ; what con- siderations were proper to be urged, and where the arrow was to be aimed in order to convince and gain a brother. One quality of his admonitions and reproofs was very noticeable ; their abstinence. He said what was necessary, and no more. He knew, what many do not know, where to stop ; and not by pressing the matter too much, and multiplying cautions and severe reflections, to endanger the spirit of resistance being roused, and thus undo by over-doing. The ingenuity also by which he sometimes reached his point, and took the individual by surprise, helped the success of his attempts to convince of an error or recover from a fault. The tempted, the perplexed, and the afilicted, in coming to him for advice, often experi- enced great benefit. His way with the dispirited and the desponding was most encouraging. He had the art of mingling the necessary stimulus to exertion with what was fitted to soothe and console ; and the awe inspired by his wisdom and piety, prevented that oiFence being taken ^dth what was said by him, which might have been occasioned by the same truths from another. The greatest confidence was reposed in his kindness and sympathy even by those who, it may be, had acted a part to render them unworthy of his aid. There is a relief often felt by the weak or the doubting from leaning upon a powerful and friendly mind ; and such, we believe, was often experienced by those who came to consult him in distress ; even if little could be done or said for their benefit, they were satis- fied they had received what help a feUow-creature could afford. These circumstances occasioned his being much resorted to for advice, not only by his friends, his people, and his brethren in the ministry, but, in point of fact, by people with whom he had little connection ; and though never disposed to intermeddle or obtrude his counsel, it was always very readily imparted when asked. While he was in the vigour of hfe, the amount of business he had to go through in this way, was very great ; more has fallen to the share of few individuals. He was often MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 115 made an umpii-e in quarrels ; and consulted not merely about spiritual or ecclesiastical, but about worldly matters. And though never personally engaged in worldly business, not many men have understood it better ; for which he was indebted in part to his thorough commercial education, but chiefly to his quick natural discernment. This led to his being often ap- pointed a trustee and executor in settlements, duties which, when he undertook them, he discharged with uncommon dis- cretion, as well as strict fidelity. Prudence, indeed, was the leading quahty for which he was known and esteemed among his fellow-citizens and his ecclesiastical connections. It has often been remarked with pain of men who were much engaged in the service of the public and the church, that in attending to these, they neglected their more immediate and proper concern, the care of their famihes : " keeping the vine- yards of others, their own vineyards have they not kept." This reproach, wherever it may alight, could not attach to Dr Peddie. He never gave such an undue proportion of his time and attention to public interests as to encroach on the more imperative claims of his own house. He delighted in the enjoyments of home, and he was attentive to all the duties of home, — wise, affectionate, and faithful as a husband, a parent, and a master. His parental authority was mild, well-regulated, and steady ; restraint being always mingled with kindness, and firmness tempered with love. Though reverenced by his children, he was never feared by them. They could fully confide in his sympathy and affection, and felt assured, on all occasions, of every reasonable indulgence, so devoid were his requisitions of what was harsh or arbitrary. Whatever interested them was sure to interest him. With the dignity of a parent he imited the familiarity of a friend, so that they could make him their confidant and counsellor in all their afiairs. To their religious, as well as their secular instruction, his attention was unremitting ; and what was of infinite import- ance to them, his instructions and precepts were never invali- dated by any practical inconsistency in his temper or conduct. 116 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. He daily walked with God, and was an example of what he taught. He did not wink at faults, or neglect to chide when it was necessary ; at the same time, no one could be more ready to forgive on the first symptom of regret and amendment. But why should the writer go on in this strain ? He cannot expect to be considered an impartial witness in speaking of that course of parental wisdom and tenderness, the amount of his obligations to which he cannot sufficiently estimate. It would be a dishonour for a son to be thought destitute, in regard to such a father, of that degree of veneration which must almost preclude the perception of blemishes of character, if such there were. That he may in so far complete, however, what he has presumed to say, he may be permitted to add, that the affec- tionate interest which Dr Peddie had always taken in the affairs of his children and friends, or, at least, its external manifestations, sensibly increased with his years, and that in him all the parent shone out most conspicuously in the sunset of life. This was felt to be a decorous accompaniment to life's close ; as the circle of his connexions with the world and with society at large was contracting, to have his attention more occupied, and his interest more intense, in reference to the objects more immediately around him. Nature was then, as it were, gradually drawing the curtain around him, and limit- ing his view before he should be called finally to compose himself to rest. The mellowing effect of age on the character of a good man has often been remarked ; it was perceptible in the subject of this memoir : under its influence every thing in his deportment that had worn the aspect of reserve, was laid aside ; the benevolent affections of his nature evidently became full to overflowing towards all with whom he had intercourse. But never did he appear more happy in his old age than when surrounded with his children and his grandchildren. He became more and more interested about them ; and they can never fail to remember with pleasing melancholy, how he would, when in the midst of them, display the gari'ulity of cheerful and contented old age, and yield himself up to innocent MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 117 gaiety. Happy, however, as he was to know any instance of their temporal welfare, " he had no greater joy than to see his children walking in the truth." His personal habits, as all who had any knowledge of him \vill be very ready to imagine, were exact and regular. He was exceedingly methodical : not that he had laid down any fixed plan to which he undeviatingly adhered as some do, by which each hour might have its particular duty assigned it, and life flow on day after day in dull uniformity. But all that he did was orderly, purposed and planned beforehand. He was constantly exercising forethought as to the course to be pursued in every minute transaction, so as to avoid confusion, and never to be found unprepared. Yet he was never so tenacious to his own use and wont, or to any of his arrange- ments, as not cheerfully to forego them when there was any reason for it, or in order to suit the convenience of others. Coolness and deliberation were marked features in his charac- ter, which may be considered the more extraordinary, as he was not of a phlegmatic temperament, but on the contrary, ardent and sensitive. By force of mind, however, and from the motives of religion, he had acquired a strong control over all his feelings, and was not often hurried into actions which he had afterwards reason to regret. Deliberation was apparent in his words and manner, in his handwriting and his very gait, along with a determination and firmness which never forsook him. The maxim of the gi'eat De Wit, to do one thing at a time, was that on which he always acted ; and to do it well. He was not easily baffled or driven from any undertaking in which he had engaged, but generally perse- vered until he had conquered the difficulty. His steady, well directed perseverance, together with the good health with which he was blessed through life, enabled him to go through a great amount of useful work. Those who wrote to him for advice, or on matters of ecclesiastical business, or of the societies with Avhich he was engaged, never failed to receive ready and satisfactory answers. The punctuality and fulness 118 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. with which he answered applications for information, advice, and assistance of all kinds, were indeed worthy of astonish- ment and admiration. With the exception of three different attacks of dangerous illness, he enjoyed through life a course of excellent health. His constitution was naturally good, though it could scarcely be called robust ; and he was very attentive to the means of preser\-ing health — avoiding with inflexible firmness whatever had in experience proved hurtful. His regular habits also contributed to this end, and his equable temper and freedom from all excess ; for he was " temperate in aU things." Partly as the gift of nature, partly the fruit of grace, he had the en^-iable art of dismissing anxious care, and taking a view of things in which hope always predominated, and future evil? were not magnified. This was more especially the case in advanced life, after he had seen much of the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living, and had long kno-svn the advan- tage of trusting in him and doing good. It was with him a rule (which it must be acknowledged, however, requires no little strength of mind to practise,) not to allow his mind to fix, at night, upon anything that had occurred during the day, calculated to create irritation or solicitude, but to banish the subjt-Ct from his thoughts until the following morning, when he knew that a calmer and truer judgment I'especting it could be formc^d. Then the spirits are lighter, and the mind not exposed to so many disturbing and depressing influences. But the secret of his strength and happiness was trust in God, committing himself and all his interests habitually to divine wisdom, faithfulness, and grace. No advice was more fre- quently on his lips than to acknoAvledge God and commit our way to him ; and he did as he recommended. His piety was of that serious, sober, manly and practical kind, which was to be expected in a person under the influence of divine grace, whose mind was naturally large and robust, enlightened by various knowledge, and who had been trained from childhood to ^•i^tuous and regular habits. It was also MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 119 piety of a cheerful character ; and this was in accordance with his constitutional temper; for though grave and sedate, he was never gloomy or morose. He had been blessed in the providence of God with a large share of temporal prosperity, though it was mingled with some severe trials ; and he never indulged those feelings which prevent men from enjoying life. He relished the society of worthy men, especially of his brethren in the ministry, while his society was equally relished by them. His conversation was rich in anecdote, and shrewd original observation of men and things ; and derived a charm from an extraordmarily retentive memory, and from uncommon powers of wit, which could be terribly sarcastic when he chose, but was more commonly playful. Humour, indeed, was the prevailing turn of his mind. He was noted for his facetious and piquant remarks ; and not a few of his sayings are reported in society ; the authenticity of some of which, however, is more than doubtful. His life, though more of an active and business kind than that of most ministers of the gospel, was a very studious life. He had read very lai'gely, not only in theology, but in most other branches of learning. His own library was large and various ; though it was easy to see that the predilections of his own profession had predominated in the selection, and that in the science of theology a preference had been given to systematic and practical authors. His scholarship was ac- curate and solid ; though we do not say that his classical studies had been pursued so far, or that his attainments in that department were so comprehensive, as in some other more useful, if less elegant and less luxurious, walks of know- ledge. His scientific acquirements were respectable. And the knowledge of whatever kind he had attained, did not lie in his memory undigested ; but having been made the subject of careful reflection, was completely arranged, and wrought into the substance of his mind. His vigour of body enabled him to pursue his studies Avith corresponding mental activity. He was not the subject of lassitude or variable spirits, but always 120 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. equally able for required exertions. The most studious and active period of his life, however, had passed before the writer of these lines was so far advanced as to make his habits the subject of intelligent observation. This sketch must now be brought to a close. Had he, whose life we have attempted faithfully to delineate, been accustomed to keep a diary or private record, we might have been able to enrich the narrative with more incident, and especially with a view of those interior exercises of mind and heart, a knowledge of which, in the case of such men as have commanded the esteem of their fellow men, is always interest- ing, and commonly useful, as serving to illustrate and recom- mend personal piety. The want might, in the present case, have been partially supplied, if we had sought to collect those fragments of his epistolary correspondence, which may exist in various quarters ; letters of sympathizing and confiding friendship being frequently well calculated to throw light upon personal character, and in fact to make a man his own bio- grapher. But besides that, Dr Peddie's correspondence was very much of a business kind, with the exception of occasional family letters, it was thought, that to draw from this source would have been to attempt a memoir of a wholly different description, and much more extended than was considered at all desirable. It is believed that in choosing rather to delineate chiefly his public life, we have taken the course which his own mind would have approved, could he have anticipated any such labour as the present. A few months before the hand of God was laid upon him, and when he knew that the days approached that he should die, he was observed at different intervals carefully to commit to the flames large accumulations of private papers taken from his repositories. It can only be conjectured, that if these included any written documents of such a kind as to lay bare any part of the hidden life, and to show the desires and emotions of his soul when he felt himself alone with God, it must have been his wish that such disclosures should not be made. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 121 "Words seldom convey to the mind an adequate idea of the personal appearance of an individual; that of Dr Peddie was such as those who knew him must recall with gi-eat dis- tinctness. Plis figure was tall and manly; liis features were straight and regular, and his complexion clear and ruddy; he had very penetrating eyes, and an expression of counte- nance grave, dignified, and benevolent. After age had bent his form, and thinned and silvered his locks, his appearance was uncommonly venerable. A full length portrait, presented to him by his congTegation in 1813, and a bust in marble, executed at the request of some of his brethren in the ministiy and others in 1830, both by eminent artists, afibrd very correct and striking representations of what he was at these periods of life. It now only remains to show " the end of his conversation," which was entirely characteristic, and in perfect keeping with the tenor of his life. This shall be done by subjoining the short sketch of his last days which the writer furnished, imme- diately after his death, to Dr Brown, and which was published by him at the close of his sermon on that occasion. It has the advantage of possessing the minuteness and freshness imparted by the recency of the event, and may be given Avith- out material correction or addition in the form in which it was ANTitten. ' The approaches of age on my venerable father were very gradual. Up to a late pei-iod, prior to his illness, there was not much apparent abatement in the powers of his mind — perhaps none when he applied himself to any subject; but he gradually became more indisposed to continued exertion, both of mind and body. He often expressed himself painfully con- scious of inability to retain upon his memory what he had meditated as the subject of public exliibition, and complained that his imagination had become flat, and did not suggest new matter, as formerly, in the moment of delivery. Still he was desirous not to abandon wholly his official duties, so long as F 122 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. he had any measure of remaining strength. Latterly, when he undertook his part in the public ser%dces of the Sabbath, it was generally in the morning, when he usually felt himself most fresh and vigorous. ' The last sermon he delivered was on the morning of the Lord's day, 30th April 1843, before the dispensation of the Supper, from the words in 1st Peter i. 12: " Unto whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto us, they did minister the things which are now reported unto you by them that have preached the gospel unto you Avith the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven; which things the angels desire to look into." The last occasion on Avhich he appeared in the pulpit, was on the 21st of the following month, when he lectured on the 1 30th Psalm. He had reached the third verse in the course of his exposition, "If thou. Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?" when he was observed to falter, and some slight confusion or repetition appeared iii his remarks. He then paused, mentioned that he was unable to proceed, and gave out a few verses of a psalm to be sung, during which I went up to the pulpit, and after a short lecture, concluded the services. He afterwards told me that he had felt the power of thought forsake him, that he could not frame the words, and supposed that he should have fallen forwards. ' This was no doubt a premonition of what appeared in a severer form n fortnight afterwards, 5th June, when, on rising from bed, he was suddenly seized with decided symp- toms of paralysis. It was rather, however, a universal torpor, than an affection of any particular part of his body. He never lost altogether the power of speech, but his mind wandei'ed a good deal, though without the least wildness or excitement; and that inaccuracy of language, which forms so ordinary a symptom in a paralytic attack, as if the connection betwixt ideas and words were for the time broken, was dis- tressingly observa])le. ' A few days after the attack, when he had rallied a little, MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 123 was the first occasion on which he made us aware that he was fully alive to his situation. He was laid on a sofa, propped up with pillows, and had partaken of a little strength- enino- food. We happened at the time to be all gathered around him. He was silent, and appeared to be slumbering. I was standing at the foot of the sofa, when he suddenly- looked up, and addressing me, said, " William, was you not going to say anything to comfort me ? " Uncertain whether his mind might not be still wandering, I said, " Comfort you about what, father?" "About— where I am going," he re- plied. Still doubtful, I said, "^Tiere are you going?" He answered with a firm and solemn voice, " I am going to meet God at a judgment-seat, to give account of all the deeds I have done in the body, whether they have been good or bad." I said, "You are not afraid to meet God, father?" He replied quickly and cheerfully, "No, I cannot say I am. I trust I can say I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that good thing which I have committed to him against that day." ' After a pause, I asked, " Do the promises come to your mind?" "Yes," he said, "they do; and they bear up my spirits." I said, " They are all in Christ, yea and amen." " Yes," he said; " and I desire to hold fast the beginning of my confidence and the rejoicing of the hope firm unto the end." He then added, " The foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his." He also said, " Tell the congregation, William, that I die in the faith of that gospel which I have preached to them. And say to them, that I cannot wish a better thing for any one of them, than that they should be as I am." Then, looking round upon us, he said, " I hope you will all study to copy the example which I have endeavoured to set before you; that you will continue to love one another, and to live in peace." Then, asking for my mother, and observing her quite overwhelmed, he said, "You are too much cast down: you ought to encourage the rest: keep up your heart: He does not disappoint people; 124 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. we'll meet again in better places." The whole of the above was said ^^iih the most perfect composure and dignity; after which he laid himself calmly do^^Ti to sleep. ' Next morning, when asked how he felt, he said, " I will bear the indignation of the Lord, because I have sinned against him." He expressed a wish that his people should be requested to remember him in their prayers, and added, " I think there are among them many good praying people." ' Contrary to our fears, and his expectations, he was spared for two years and four months after the period referred to; and sustained three or four distinct but slight shocks of palsy, which, added to the increasing infirmities of age, greatly enfeebled his bodily and mental poAvers. Persons in his circumstances are often fretful, and obstinate, and unhappy, even though formerly distinguished for placidity of natural temper, and though they may through life have disciplined their minds well; but it was a singular mercy enjoyed by him, and by his relations who waited on him, that, to the last, his cheerful contentment and satisfaction with everything that was done to him, were uninterrupted. Though reduced to extreme helplessness, no murmur ever escaped his lips. He ■was, indeed, free from acute pain. He was able also in some measure, to enjoy society, and reading; and what was remark- able, though his deafness continued unabated, his sight, which had been failing before his illness, considerably improved afterwards, so that he could read without spectacles a mode- rately sized type. The family having judged it proper to remove a few miles from town, for the sake of retirement and health, he was able, when the Aveather permitted, during the greater part of the time, to spend several hours in the open air daily, in his wheeled chair; and Avas even privileged to revisit the house of God, on three several sacramental Sab- baths, as well as once or twice on other occasions. The last time when he appeared in his accustomed seat, and partook with his people " of the fruit of the vine," Avas at the com- munion, 27 th October 1844. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 125 *As ordinarily happens in the case of pai'alytic patients, especially when the disease is combined Avitli the frailties of advanced life, he was subject to frequent illusions, although these Avere never of an unpleasant kind : and it may be inte- resting to know, that on these occasions, his mind almost always ran upon some subject connected with what had been the principal work of his life, his duties as a minister of the gospel of the grace of God; frequently imagining that it was the Sabbath-day, and that we were about to repair to the sanctuary, or had just come from it. A train of this kind was invariably suggested whenever I entered his presence; and his first question was, on what subject I had been preaching, or on what did I intend to preach. He would often, too, call for his Bible, saying that he was going to prepare to lecture; and what was peculiarly affecting, it was generally found on such occasions, for many months after he was first seized, that the place of the Scripture which he read was the 130th Psalm, -Nvith which his public ministry had closed. ' It may be difficult to convey to those who did not see my father, or saw him only occasionally, during the long period of his frailty and decline, the exact state of his mind under his disease. His once powerful faculties were certainly greatly reduced: yet there were times when the cloud that oppressed them was partially lifted up, and we were delighted with flashes that reminded us of his former self. It was as if some fragments of his intellectual being remained entire, Avhile others Avere destroyed ; his recollection, for example, of per- sons, which had always been strong, remained unimpaired, so that he at once recognized acquaintances, and showed a recol- lection of the minutest incidents of their history. It was also a great satisfaction to us to observe, that though the flame of life burned very low, it was still pointing upwards to the better world. We remarked all along a much greater accuracy and propriety of language, together with more connectedness of thought, when he was engaged in prayer, than at other times. He also showed a recollection of passages of Scripture, and of 126 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. the chapter and verse of particular quotations, which contrasted strongly wnth the feebleness of liis mind upon other subjects. * He seldom spoke to us directly on the subject of religion, and never referred to his personal exercises ; but it was evi- dent that he was very often, latterly indeed, almost constantly, engaged in prayer. He seemed to consider his active work as done, and to have made up his mind just to "wait all the days of his appointed time, till his change should come." He frequently spoke aloud, obviously not conscious that he was doing so, and in the language of devotion; but the indis- tinctness of his articulation made it generally difficult, or impossible, to catch the import of more than single expressions. On one occasion, when seated in his chair, he was heard to say, " I die, I die, I die, in the faith of an interest in the Lord Jesus Christ." ' At another time, after being placed in bed, and overheard speaking to himself, one of his sons asked what he had said; he replied, "Did I speak? I was seeking for the words of Simeon ; you will find them in Luke ii. and 29th." It was then answered, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." " Yes," he said, " Lord, now lettest thou thy ser- vant depart in peace, according to thy word: for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." A frequent petition was, " Put me amongst the children ; give me of the goodly heritage of the host of nations." One of the last expressions that he was heard to use was, that "the mercy of the Lord might be upon his children, and his children's children, and that they all might be within the bond of the covenant." ' For about ten days previous to his decease, his strength was evidently declining, and the lethargy, which was charac- teristic of the whole course of his disorder, became more habitual. "We saw that " the days of mourning for our father were at hand." Still "the spirit of the old man" occasionally " came again ;" and a fatal issue was not apprehended so soon as it arrived. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 127 ' For about a week he was not able to conduct family wor- ship, as had been his wont. The last occasion on which he joined with the family in the exercise, the paraphrase in the ordinary course happened to be the fifty-fifth : — " My race is run ; my warfare's o'er ; The solemn hour is nigh, When, offer'd up to God, my soul Shall wing its flight on high. With heav'nly weapons I have fought The battles of the Lord ; Finish'd my course, and kept the faith. Depending on his word. Henceforth there is laid up for me A crown which cannot fade ; The righteous Judge at that great day Shall place it on my head. Nor hath the sov'reign Lord decreed This prize for me alone ; But for all such as love like me The appearance of his Son. From every snare and evil work His gTace shall me defend, And to his hearnly kingdom safe ' Shall bring me in the end." It was remarked that he sung with more than ordinary ani- mation. ' On the second evening before his death, he was able to read for a considerable time : and the night immediately before his death, he walked, as usual with a little support, from his cus- tomary chair in a sitting apartment, to that bed from which he was never to rise. One of his daughters said to him, "You are rather better to-night." "Yes," he said, "but there is death in the cup." ' On the next morning, Saturday, the 11th October, he ap- peared disposed to remain in bed, and only a word or two were uttered by him that could be heard. He said repeatedly, "Amen! amen!" — (as when the prayers of David, the son 128 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. of Jesse, were ended): — and after an interval, without any- marked increase in the quickness of his breathing, or the least movement of liis features, he literally fell asleep in Jesus, and entered upon everlasting rest.' He died in the eighty-seventh year of his age, and the sixty- third of his ministry. He was, at the time of his death, the father of the United Associate Synod; and, with one excep- tion,^ had been longer in the ministry than any who have held that office in either branch of the Secession Chui'ch. Though he had been for a considerable pei'iod removed fi-om the public view, the event, when it became knoAvn, produced an impres- sion corresponding to the high place he had long occupied, and to his many and eminent virtues. He died at Laverock Bank House, Trinity, and was buried on Friday, the 17th October, m the Edinburgh New Cemetery, at Warriston. The funeral procession, though during its whole course at some distance from the city, drcAv an immense concourse of spectators. On the ensuing Sabbath, the event was improved to his congregation by a discourse in the forenoon from the Rev. Dr Harper, his son-in-law; and in the afternoon, from the Eev. Dr Brown. Both discourses Avere afterwards pub- lished, at the request of the session of Bristo Street Congre- gation, and have been repeatedly referred to in the course of this memom A beautiful and appropriate monument (after a design by one of his grandsons) has been erected by his people, to mark the spot where his ashes repose in the hope of the resurrection of the just. ' The Rev. James Morrison of Norham, uho longf officiated as cleric to the General Associate Synod. DISCOUPtSES. DISCOURSES. I. THE INCARNATION AND ITS DESIGN. Heb. ii. 14. — Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil. The doctrine of the text may be referred to two general heads ; to the INCARNATION OF Christ, and to the gracious design he had in view in becoming incarnate. The doctrine of tlie incarnation is stated in the first part of the verse; " Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same ;" that of the gi'acious design of it in the last part of it, " that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." The vai'iety of important matter that lies before us, leaves us no room for any introductory discourse; and what is necessary for explaining the meaning of the words, and their connection with what goes before, will fall under our consideration in our progress. I. In discoursing concerning the incarnation of christ as stated by the apostle in the text, the following things must be attended to in their proper order : The person who became incarnate ; " he himself:" ihe, persons on ivJiose accounthe became incarnate ; " the children who are partakers of flesh and blood :" 132 THE INCARNATION, the nature which in his incarnation he assumed ; "the same" of which they were partakers : the condition in which he assumed it ; " like-wise," or in like condition as they partook of it : the manner in which he assumed it ; "he took part" of it : the immediate gracious reason of his doing all this ; because the children were partakers of flesh and blood : " Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself took part of the same." On these important particulars, it is obvious only a little can be said of what the Scriptures speak. May the Spirit of truth, who leadeth into all truth, enlighten our understandings and guide our tongue, that we may not darken counsel by words without knowledge ! 1. Thejjerson who became incarnate : " he himself." When a man is born into the world, he becomes a partaker of flesh and blood, for he becomes a possessor of the same nature which is common to all men. But it would be a strange perversion of language, to say that when a person is born, he becomes incarnate ; for incarnation supposes existence before, and the possession of a nature different fi'om the nature as- sumed. The person, therefore, of whose incarnation the apostle here speaks, cannot be the Socinian's Christ ; for the person to whom thei/ give this name began to exist when he was born of Mary, and possessed no nature different from that of other men. That Avorthy person of whom the apostle speaks, and whom we desire to regard as our Saviour, had an exist- ence before he was partaker of flesh and blood, and was active in his OAvn incarnation ; for nothing less than this can be in- tended by the apostle, when he says, " he himself" — " a person existing and acting," " took part of," or voluntarily took to himself part in, " the same." If we enquire more particularly concerning this glorious person, we need not range through the Bible in order to collect information concerning him. The apostle in the preceding part of this epistle, gives us very satisfactory information. Who then was he? Was he some faithful and approved servant of the Most High God, whom he sent to manage the AND ITS DESIGN. 133 important business of man's redemption? No; he could put no such trust in any of his servants, and therefore, " he sent his Son made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law." But God has many sons whom he loves and honours. Yes ; but this is that Son whom he loves above all others, and honours above all others ; whom he styles, in token of peculiar endearment, "his own Son," " his dear Son," "his beloved Son;" and whom, in token of peculiar dignity, he denominates, "his only begotten Son." With whom then shall we rank this great person ? Shall we rank him among the angels, those noblest pieces of the divine work- manship, and give him even the first place among these glorious creatures ? He is a much better and gi'eater person, the apostle assures us, than any of them. His name is too noble even to have been conferred on them, and involves in it the idea of perfections, which they never possessed. " He hath," not by gift, but " by inheritance, obtained a more excellent name than they. For unto which of the angels, said God at any time. Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee." Angels, instead of being his equals in rank, must submit to him as their king, must adore him as their God. This was their duty even when his glory was most obscured, and his condition the most ungodlike : " For, when he brought his first begotten into the world, he said, and let all the angels of God worship him." To whom then shall we liken Christ, and make him equal ? We shall follow his o-\vn example. " He thought it not rob- bery to be equal with God." Instead of murmuring with the unbelieving Jews, therefore, when he made himself equal with God, we will adore him as " the fellow of the Lord of Hosts," and celebrate him with our apostle, as "the heir of all things, by whom also God made the worlds ;" as "the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person, and him who upholdeth all things by the word of his power." This view of his character is what the Scriptures hold out to us ; and this it is which alone can illustrate the amazing grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, in becoming a partaker of flesh and blood, and 134 THE INCARNATION, demonstrate his peculiar fitness for the work on Avhich he came in the flesh — the destruction of the devil and his works. When we consider the dignity of our Lord Jesus Christ in this light, and compare this with what the apostle says of him in the text, that " he himself" took part of oui- nature, it fills the mind with astonishment. Solomon of old was astonished at the thought of the di\dne condescension in another instance, not nearly so remarkable as this, " But will God in very deed," he cries, " dwell with men upon the earth?" To him it seemed almost incredible, that He who dwelleth on high, and who humbleth himself when he condescends even to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth, should dwell with men on the earth, in the visible sjonbols of his gracious pre- sence. But in the case before us, it is not God dwelling with us in the visible symbols of his presence, not God dwelling with us by the presence of some heavenly messenger on earth ; it is more, unspeakably more ; it is God becoming one of us, God becoming a possessor of our nature. " He himself," what more wonderful ? even " he himself," what more true ? " took on him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of man." He himself took part of the same flesh and blood of which we were partakers. " Without controversy, great is the mystery of godliness, God was manifested in the flesh." 2. The persons on whose account he became incarnate ; " the children" who "were partakers of flesh and blood." We are apt to measure God by ourselves, and as often as we do so, we err in our apprehensions concerning his nature and his ways. Surely, we are ready to say, if the Most High God shall depart so far fi'om the ordinary course of his dispen- sations, as to become incarnate, a partaker of flesh and blood, they must be persons of no common measure of worth and goodness whom he thus astonishingly favours. Let us then see who they were for whose sake the Son of the Blessed stooped so amazingly low. They are styled "the children;" but whose children, and what kind of children are they? If we speak of their natural AND ITS DESIGN. 135 father, they are the children of Adam, fallen, lost, ruined Adam ; and " like Adam they have transgressed the cove- nant." If of their spiritual father, they are " of their father the devil, and his works they do." When the Spirit of God means to describe their natural character, he styles them "the children of disobedience ;" and when their natural de- sert, " the children of wrath," and the heirs of hell. What is there here to move pity, or attract love ? Wliat here to move the Son of God to stoop fi-om heaven to earth in order to save them ? Surely nothing. That the Son of the Almighty should forbear to execute the vengeance due to them is much ; that he should open his bountiful hand, and give them the blessings of his providence in rich abundance is more ; but that God the Lord should come and dwell among them, that he should become Immanuel, God in their nature, and on their side, how inconceivably kind ! Others, besides the family of Adam, were in character sin- ners, and in their deserved lot, miserable. But though our case was not peculiar, the kindness of the Son of God has been distinguishing. The angels that kept not their first estate, were similarly guilty, and involved in like misery ; but the Lord Jesus took not that kind notice of the ruined angels that he did of ruined men. In his adorable sovereignty, he passed by the more ancient family without pitying them, while in mercy he visited and redeemed the younger ; left the nobler building to lie in ruins, a huge and shapeless waste, while he came to raise up the rviins of the tabernacle of Adam, and to build it as in the days of old. " For, vei-ily, he took not on him the nature of angels, but he took on him the seed of Abra- ham." Every one of the children whose nature he assumed, were partakers of flesh and blood ; were of the human race, were partakers of the corruptible, frail, and perishing nature of man. For men, who "dwell in housesof clay," whose "foundation is in the dust," and who "are crushed before the moth ;" for them, in preference to angels, who, though fallen, possess a nobler, a spiritual, an incorporeal nature, he stooped so low, 136 THE INCARNATION, he did so much. O for the Avarm heart, and the well tuned harp of David, to strike aloud these notes to the praise of the great friend of men ! " When I consider the heavens the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars Avhich thou hast ordained ; what is man that thou wast mindful of him ? and the son of man that thou didst visit him ?" The children on whose account the Son of God became the Sou of man, Avere all, Avere every one of them, partakers of flesh and blood ; but they do not comprehend the whole of that multitude, Avho are, Avho have been, and shall be pai'tak- ers of flesh and blood. He took part of the same nature Avhich is common to all mankind ; but it Avas because it was the nature of those, avIio, in the preceding Averse, are designed " the cliildren Avhom the Lord had giA'en him." These were the persons whom he came to deliver from the power of Satan ; these were the persons for whose sake he was made flesh : and to intimate this, it is, I apprehend, that in the 16th verse of this chapter, formerly quoted, he is not said to take on him the nature of the seed of Adam, which it is true he did, but " the nature of the seed oi Abraham •" — of that spiritual seed, the elect and chosen of God, typified by the seed of Abraham, for whom his soul was to ti'avail, and whose salvation he was to see. Children they are, not more worthy of his notice than others ; but sovereign grace made a distinction, Avhere nature had made none ; and they were committed to his charge as the Captain of Salvation, as " the many sons" whom he Avas to deliver from the snare of the devil, and conduct to glory. Viewed in themselves their name was Lo-Ammi ; but "accord- ing to the good pleasure of his will, and to the praise of the glory of his gi'ace, God hath predestinated them to the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself." For their redemption he took part of flesh and blood ; and in consequence of his incarnation, they " are called by a ncAV name, Avhich the mouth of the Lord hath named ; " they obtain by adoption the honour- able names of " children of God," " childi-en of light," and " children of the resurrection." AND ITS DESIGN. 137 3. The nature which in his incarnation Christ assumed. The children, as we have seen, were partakers of the human nature; and therefore the Lord Jesus " took part of the same.'''' The love that he bore to the children Avhom the Lord had given him, induced him to undertake their salvation, and constrained him to perform aU that their salvation required. Lifinite wisdom pointed out what was necessary for vindicat- ing the divine perfections, and for maintaining the honour of the divine government in the redemption of the children ; and, therefore, the Lord Jesus became an inhabitant of our world, and a possessor of our nature. He, whose name is Wisdom, did nothing in vain in this arduous work. Had any other person been able to have accomplished the purposes of his grace toward us, he would have operated, as in other cases, by the instrumentality of others ; but as none of his servants had wisdom sufficient for managing, or strength sufficient for per- forming, their deliverance from the power of the devil and of death, he personally undertook the work, and became himself their Saviour. Had any other place been a proper theatre for his operations on their behalf, he would not have left his throne in the heavens, and vailed his glory by tabernacling among men ; but where the law was broken, there it was projier the law should be magnified ; where sin was committed, there it was proper atonement should be made ; where the enemy triumphed, there it was proper the enemy should be overthrown ; and, therefore, the Lord of glory appeared in his own person on the earth, to restore the honour of the divine perfections and go- vernment, and to triumph gloriously over the enemy. Hud any other nature, besides the human, been projjer for the Son of God to assume in oi'der to the performance of his labour of love, he would have become partaker of some superior, of some angelical, or seraphic nature, and not stooped so very far from his throne as to assume the inferior and grosser nature of man : but it was proper that the very same nature that transgressed should obey ; that the very same nature that sinned should suffer ; that the very same nature that was vanquished should 138 THE INCARNATION, overcome ; and, therefore, lie became bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh. Had he possessed no other nature than the di\ine, the work necessary for theu" salvation would have been unfit for him to have performed. Had he assumed any other nature than the human, his labours in it could not have brought any one of the many sons to glory. His work was of a servile kind, and could only be performed by him in the form of a servant : it was on account of men that he was to perform it, and he could only do it for them when found in fashion as a man. His work was to obey and to suffer in the room of sinners of mankind. The divine law could admit of a change of persons, but of no change of nature ; divine justice could accept of a substitute, but of none who had not the nature of man ; for the sufferings of one natm-e can be no atonement for the sins of another and different nature. As, therefore, his woi'k required he should be made under the law, it required that he should be made of a woman, in order thereby to redeem them that were under the law. Its precept which we had transgressed, required to be fulfilled, and its penalty to be endured ; it was proper, therefore, that God's own Son should be made " in the likeness of sinful flesh, that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us." Who that believes these things can deny the necessity, or doubt the love manifested in the incarnation of the Son of God ? Can we foi'bear giving the shout of approbation in the words of the multitude on another occasion, "He hath done all things well! " What I have said in a great measure saves me the trouble of establishing, by an elaborate proof, the individual sameness of that nature assumed by the Lord Jesus Christ, with that worn by us. We shall suffer those ancient heretics, who taught that Christ did not assume our nature itself, but the semblance and appearance of it, to sleep, together with their heresy, unmolested in their graves ; and shall on this head, only further observe, that he became true and real man, — a possessor of human nature in both its parts, and in all its essential properties. Human nature consists, you know of two parts ; AND ITS DESIGN. 139 the one spiritual, and allied to that of angels, the other material, and allied to that of the irrational creation ; the one styled soul, the other body. Our Lord Jesus became partaker of our whole nature. He did not take to himself only a part of our nature ; our body, for example, and not our soul : this is not the mean- ing of the expression of the text, which we are now consider- ing. He " took part of," that is, became a partner with us in " the same," the self same, entire, imdivided, unmutilated nature. Of this we have the most irrefragable evidence in the holy Scriptures. We read of his body and also of his soul : of his body, as prepared in the womb of his virgin mother ; of his soul, as sanctified by the Holy Ghost from the womb : of his body, as suffering labour ; of his soul, as experiencing gi'ief : of him, as " bearing our sins in his body upon the tree," and " making his soul an offering for sin : " of his body, lying in the grave ; and of his soul, as being meanwhile in paradise. A human soul without a human body, or, a human body without a human soul, would not have constituted our Lord Jesus our brother, a partaker of our nature ; for a part of our nature, is not our natm'e itself, and would not have made him one of us. Our whole nature had sinned, and by sin become miserable. Our whole nature the Lord Jesus came to redeem from sin and its direful effects. Our whole nature had to suffer in the per- son of our glorious substitute ; our bodies, by labour, pain, and death ; and our souls by soitow and agony. Our whole nature, in both its essential parts, therefore, he assumed ; and, wonderful as it may indeed appear, " both he that sanctifieth, and they who are sanctified, are," in this respect, " all of one," of one common nature ; " for which cause," because of which alliance between him and them, "he is not ashamed to call them brethren." Bistead of being ashamed of an alliance with a race by nature so ignoble, and by sin so depraved, he glories in his alliance with his people, and wears that nature at the right hand of the throne, which in the days of his flesh he wore upon the footstool. " The one Mediator between God and man," is still, and ever will continue to be, " the man Christ Jesus." 140 THE INCARNATION, Our nature the blessed Jesus took part of, not only in both its parts, but in all its essential properties. To us, who are in a great measure ignorant of essences, that is different which differs in its leading properties ; and we could not have seen how our Lord Jesus took part of the same nature mth us, if we had not found in Scripture the same essential properties ascribed to it. There is no essential property of the human soul, but Avhat is found in that of our Lord Jesus Christ. Conscience, which operates often so powerfully in us, either accusing or else excusing us, was found in lam ; and being void of offence, both toward God and toward men, it spake this lan- guage, " Which of you convinceth me of sin ? " L^nderstandiug he possessed, different from his divine knowledge, which was enlarged by experience, for he " increased in wisdom and stature ; " and will, different from his divine will, for he con- trasts them when he says, " not my will but thine be done." Human passions he possessed, — for he " rejoiced in spirit," and was " grieved ^vith the hardness of the people's hearts :" and human affections ; for when he saw the amiable dispositions of the young man, who yet could not part with the world for him, " he loved him ;" and when he saw the hungry multitudes, " he had compassion upon them." If from his human soul, we turn our attention to his human body, we find that it also was, in its essential properties, the same with ours. It was seen, it was touched ; for " handle me and see," he said to Thomas, " for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as you see me have." It grew in stature, from an infant, on the breasts of Mary, to manhood. It removed from place to place; now in Jerusalem, then in Galilee ; now in the temple, then in the desert ; now on earth, and afterwards in heaven. As for papists, who, in order to defend their absurd doctrine of transubstantiation, and the Lutherans, who, in order to defend their scarcely less absurd doctrine of consubstantiation, maintain the ubiquity of Christ's body, we at present leave them to themselves; resting our faith upon a more sure word of prophecy, which, while it informs us that " the heavens must receive him until the times AND ITS DESIGN. 141 of the restitution of all tilings," teaches us that "in all thin"-s it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest, in things pertain- ing to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people." 4. The condition in -which Christ assumed human nature. The apostle, in the text, informs us that he took part of the same " likewise," that is, in like manner and condition as the children were partakers of it. And in what condition is human nature as possessed by the children ? Wlij, it is encompassed with many infirmities — is frail and mortal. And such was human nature, as possessed by our Lord Jesus Christ. His flesh was not iron, nor his bones brass. He knew what fatigue and weakness meant. He had experience of hunger and thii'st, of pain and death. His soul had infir- mity, as well as his body. He knew what anger was ; what fear, what sorrow were. And it is good for us that such was Chi'ist, so like us ; for " in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted," or tried with infirmities, " he is able to succour them that are tempted." There is only one kind of infirmity of which the Saviour was not partaker ; he Avas entirely free from sin. He was a partaker of flesh and blood, as far as respects infirmity of a sinless kind ; but he had no communion with us in sin. He was made as like us sinners, as could be consistently with the possession of perfect purity ; but he was only in the likeness of sinful flesh. Like us he was in our infirmities that were not sinful, that having experience of our frame, he might feel for us, might sympathize with us, might have compassion on us ; for "we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities ; but was in all points tempted like as we are; yet," it is added, "without sin:" for like us, in this respect, he was not, otherwise he never could have " condemned sin in the flesh," or " destroyed him that hath the power of death, that is, the devil." The infinite dignity and purity of the person who took our nature into union with himself, made it impossible that he should hold personal com- 142 THE INCARNATION, munion with a nature that was defiled with the abominable thuig which his soul hateth. And the nature of the work, which in the flesh he had to perform, made it impossible that he should have glorified God upon the earth, or wrought deliverance for our souls, had his human nature, in any degree, been contaminated with sin. " For such an high priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens ; who needed not daily, as those high priests under the law, to oifer up sacrifice, first for his own sins, and then for the people's ; for this he did once, when he oflfered up himself." But how was it possible that the same human nature which we possess, and which we bring into the world guilty and depraved, could be, in this single instance, unstained with sin ? " In Adam, all have sinned ;" and yet ancient prophecy spake of him as " the seed of the woman," the " seed of Abraham," of the tribe of Judah and family of David. Divine wis- dom is never at a loss to devise methods for accomplishing its own gracious purposes; nor is divine power ever at a loss to execute the plans, which infinite wisdom and grace have devised. A new thing is performed in the earth ; a virgin conceives by the power of the Holy Ghost, and Immanuel is born into the world. As born of woman, he is partaker of our nature, and is a kinsman Redeemer, to whom the right of our redemption pertains ; but as conceived by the overshadow- ing power of the Holy Ghost, he is not included in Adam's representation, was not defiled with original sin ; and is thus near us in point of nature, and far from us in respect of pollu- tion ; near to have the right of redemption, and far from our impurity, to be able to redeem. An awful, an adorable mystery ! Yet true and gi-acious ! How truly did the prophet sing : " Unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given ; and his name shall be called Wonderful — the Prince of Peace ! " 5. The manner in which Christ assumed human nature. To this the apostle leads our minds, when he says, that he himself "took part" of the same. On a subject so high above AND ITS DESIGN. • 143 our reach as this, I desire to use all soberness of imagination, and all modesty of speech. We approach the true bush of Moses which burned, and was not consumed ; and we must put off our shoes fi'om our feet, for the place on which we stand is holy ground. The Scripture authorizes me to make the following remarks : — Our nature was assumed, not by the divine nature, but by a di\dne person. The divine nature is possessed, in common, by all the Three Persons of the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; and had it been the divine nature that took part of the human, the Godhead would have been incarnate. But as we dare not say the Father assumed the human nature, or the Holy Ghost assumed the human nature, we conclude that it was not the divhie nature, absolutely considered, that became incarnate, but, as subsisting in the person of the Son. All the persons of the Tx'inity had their several parts in the incarnation: the Father sent forth his First-Begotten into the world, and prepared a human nature for him ; the Holy Ghost sanctified his human nature in the womb ; but it Avas only the Word that was made flesh, the Son only that became incarnate. " He himself," not the Father or the Spirit, "took part" of our flesh and blood. Again, the Son of God assumed into union with his person, the human nature, and not a human person. The human nature of Christ never had any separate subsistence. In its very formation it was united to the second person of the Trinity; and this, instead of being any imperfection attending it, is its peculiar dignity and honour, — that it never subsisted by itself, but ever since its formation subsisted in the person of the Son of God. Had the human nature of Christ subsisted by itself, Christ would have had two persons, as well as two natures : in other words, there would have been two Christs ; and yet we would have had no Saviour. His human nature would have been responsible on its own account, as a creature of God, and could not have obeyed for us. His divine nature having no such intimate union with his human, Avould not have given merit and efficacy to his obedience and sufferings ; and 144 THE INCARNATION, though in our stead they would not have profited us. In the person of Immanuel, however, as constituted by the marvellous wisdom and grace of God, we have two natures and but one person ; a well qualified Saviour ; " a day's-man betwixt" God and us, " to lay his hand upon both." In fine, there is no confusion in the person of Christ, in consequence of his assuming the human nature. The Son of God, in consequence of the incarnation, has become what he was not, but he continues to be what he was ; he has become man, but he has not ceased to be God. He is still really God, though he is now truly man. Both natures subsist in the most intimate union in his person, yet both retain their distinct properties. His divine nature is not, by his incarnation, humanized ; his human nature is not deified. In their pecviliar properties they are still infinitely remote; yet, in his person, they are inconceivably united. The human nature is not become infinite, eternal, unchangeable, omnipotent, omnipre- sent; the divine nature is not become finite, corporeal, con- fined to place. The human nature obeyed ; the divine nature merited by obedience : the human nature sufiered ; the divine nature satisfied by suffering : the human nature died ; the divine nature, in dying, overcame. Yet, in consequence of the intimate union between the two natures, what is peculiar to either nature, is ascribed to the person. What an astonish- ing person is our Jesus ! The person of Immanuel is truly the gi'eatest of wonders. It is the wonder of angels, and must for ever surpass the knowledge of men. What amazing busi- ness must the business of heaven be, which will be to discover the mysteries contained in the person of Christ, and to be continually surprised and delighted with new wonders, rising continually upon the enraptured view ! II. I now proceed to the second part of the text : The GRACIOUS DESIGN wliich he had in view in becoming incarnate. Surely it was not for nought, that the Son of God so mar- vellously condescended to take upon him our nature. He AND ITS DESIGN. 145 became partaker of flesh and blood to display the glory of the divine perfections, to maintain the honour of the divine law, to vindicate the equity of the divine administration, to execute vengeance on the enemies of the divine government. He became partaker of flesh and blood to pay the debt, to bear the punishment, to purchase the happiness of an elect world, to save the lost ; to i-edeem the captives ; to set fi'ee the prisoners ; to procure pardon for rebels ; purchase peace for sinners ; to bring in an everlasting I'ighteousness, and make reconciliation for iniquity, to condemn sin ; to overcome death ; to " destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." The particular design of Christ's incarnation, mentioned in the text, will be best illustrated by attending, fii'st, to the beinj against whom he came into the world with hostile intentions j " him that hath the power of death, that is, the devil :"— secondly, the hostile design he had against him ; he came to " destroy him :" — thirdly, the singular means he used in order to eflfect his destruction ; " that through death he might destroy him :" and lastly, the success he had in his enterprize ; " that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." 1. The being against whom the Lord Jesus came into the world with hostile intentions, is described, first, by his common designation, that is, the devil, and secondly, by the power which he possessed, he had the power of death. (1.) He is described by his common designation, " that is, the devil." Curious speculations concerning the nature of this being, the time of his creation, the occasion of his fall, and the place of his abode, would at any time be idle, and, at present, a criminal waste of your time. We learn enough of him from the Scriptures to excite detestation of his character, to put us on our watch against his designs, and inspire us with gratitude to Christ, who came into the world to effect his overthrow. He is a creature originally formed by the hand of God, who never formed a creature whom he could not pronounce good ; G 146 THE I>XARNATION, but he kept not his first estate, and has acquired by his trans- gression, by way of eminence, the name of the " Wicked One." His nature is spiritual, his station was that of an angel of high rank ; but by pride he fell into condemnation, and has now exchanged the throne for the pit, the palace of the skies for the dungeon of hell. How great the change ! Once an angel of light, he has become the prince of darkness ; once flaming with the zeal of a cherub for the glory of God, he now burns with malignity against him, and labours to oppose his govern- ment, and deprive him of the glory of his workmanship. This his very names import. Why is he called " Satan," but to inti- mate that he is the great adversary of God and man ? And why " the devil," but to intimate that he is a malicious and busy slanderer of the divine perfections and government. He rests not but when he does mischief; confusion and disorder are the aim of all his toils ; iniquity and wide-spread misery his only joy. In order to learn his activity and his success, we need only cast our eyes abroad upon the world, or wathin upon ourselves. By his influence disease has invaded the human body, and ungovernable passions the human soul ; the world become an hospital, and the soul a babel of confusion. The earth he has stored with sinners, and hell he labours to fill with miserable sufferers. His fitness for carrying on his work of destruction is written on his forehead, in the titles given him in Scripture. The " great dragon" is his name, to denote the fierceness of his looks; " the strong man armed," to intimate the greatness of his strength ; a " ravening lion," to signify his thirst for blood ; " the old serpent," to point out his experience in every species of cuiming and deceit. The ruin of men is his constant aim, for " he was a murderer from the beginning ;" and falsehood the weapon that he uses to accomplish his aim, for " he is a liar, and the father of a lie." He is styled, in the text, " the devil," in the singular number, to note, not unity of person, but unity of nature and design : for " his name is Legion, because he is many." Hosts of creatures, once happy, associated with him in rebellion, serve under him AND ITS DESIGN. 147 in his work, and perish Avith him in his ruin. Against these has the Christian to war, and though the match is unequal, though he fights, " not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickednesses in high places," " he fights not as uncertainly ;" for the Captain of Salvation fought before him, and overcame. Against these the Son of God came forth into the world, as into the field of battle, and clad himself with flesh and blood, as the armour in which he was to encounter them : — a glorious vindertaking, to oppose and overthrow the enemy of all righteousness ; but a strange habit in which to attempt it, — in a vestiu'e of flesh and blood, in the form of infirmity and weakness ! But the Philistine had not more reason to fear the sling of David in his shepherd's habit, than had the Goliath of hell, the power of Jesus in the fashion of a weak and mortal man. His soul was full of zeal for the glory of his Father and the salvation of his people, and his heart full of the most heroic courage to meet the adversary, and bathe his garments in his blood. By his incarnation he gave the enemy every advantage of ground and of weapons ; and published the glory of his triumph and the shame of his foes, by destroying, in this form, " him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." (2.) He is described by the poicer which he possessed; " he had the power of death." The devil, not satisfied with revolting, himself, from the allegiance which he owed to God, embraced the earliest oppor- tunity to seduce mankind from their proper duty. He suc- ceeded in his attempt, and we have become rebels against the divine government and law. The earth has been added as a new province to the territories of hell, and the power of Satan has been so extended over its inhabitants, that, in Scripture, he is styled " the God of this world." A kingdom he has erected in the earth, called " the kingdom of darkness," and opposite to " the kingdom of God's dear Son ;" a kingdom wide as the reign of sin, for the whole world of unbelieving sinners lieth under ^14S THE IXCARNATION, the power of the wicked one. The empire of Satan extends over the bodies and over the sovils of his miserable vassals ; over their bodies, which are retained as " instruments of un- righteousness unto sin," and OA-er their souls, which serve the devil in obeying the lusts of the flesh and of the mind. The tAvo main pillars of his kingdom are ignorance and sin ; by them he maintains his sway, them he employs as the great props of his authority. Hence he is denominated " the ruler of the darkness of this world," and " the prince of the spirit which worketh in the children of disobedience." While he detains men in ignorance and sin, his authority in their hearts is firm ; the strong man keeps his goods in peace. His rule in the heart only falls, when, by the gospel, the blind eyes are opened, and the corrupt heart changed ; for then men " are turned from darkness unto light, and from the power of Satan unto God." The power of the devil is not only over ignorance and sin, but also over death ; the one is the consequence of the other, and both are his work. Death entered into the world by sin, and as the reign of sin has been universal in the world, so has been the reign of death ; for " sin hath reigned unto death." At the same time that Satan introduced sin into our world, he introduced death ; for death and hell are the grizly followers of sin. and ever march in his train. His name is, in Scripture, " a murderer from the beginning," because, by his machinations, he established the empire of death in the world ; and " ApoUyon," the destroyer, because its dominion he maintains, and spreads destruction among the human race. Under the power of spiritual death, how many thousands of miserable creatures does he retain ; and like a tyrant, as he is, that delights in mischief, having caught them in his snare, takes them captive at his will ! How many poor creatures does he subject to perpetual and hard bondage, by the slavish fear of death ; and how often docs he alarm tlie consciences of men with fearful apprehensions of the second death, setting the terrors of lieU before their eyes in dreadful array ! Wliat devastation docs he work in the earth, what wars and bloodshed, by working AND ITS DESIGN. 1-19 upon the bad passions of men ! And what misery does he Ci'eate as the -willing executioner of divine vengeance, in inflict- ing the pains of the second death, on those that are condemned to the pit of destruction ! Such is " the power of death" as possessed by the devil ; a power not absolute but limited ; not possessed by right, but obtained by divine permission ; a power which strong as he is, and gi'eat as is his zeal to maintain it ; is not unconquerable. We know who had courage to attack, and strength to over- turn the empire of the devil ; we know who overthrew him in conflict, and hath now the keys of hell and death at his girdle, — the Lord Jesus, who became partaker of flesh and blood, " that he might destroy him that had the power of death," and depose him from his usurped throne. 2. The hostile design which Christ had against him that had the power of death. He came into the world in order " to destroy him,*' A noble, a worthy design ! AVho will not, at hearing of it, shout, " Hosau- nah, blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." The glory of the di\Tiie workmanship was defaced, the order of the divine government was subverted, the enemy triumphed, and the children of the Most High were subjected to destruction. But Jesus arose, not the constrained, but the willing avenger of the enemy of God and man ; not moved by interest, but impelled by zeal for the divine honour and the childrens' salvation ; and when the cry was heard, " who will rise up against the evil doer?" he became partaker of flesh and blood, " that lie might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." His design in becoming incarnate, was not the destruction of the devil's person, but of his power. Not the destruction of his person ; for the great enemy stiU exists, but exists covered with shame and tormented with misery, and is " reserved in chains unto the judgment of the great day," and the more awful punishment, which shall then commence ; but the destruction of his power, of his empire in the world, of his influence over men in subjecting them to the power of sin and of death. 150 THE INCARNATION, That this was the design of Chi'ist's incarnation, who knows not that reads the Bible? The very first intimation of it, mentions this as its gi'eat design ; he was to become " the seed of the woman," that he might " bruise the serpent's head." He himself, in direct terms, asserts the same, " for judgment am I come into the world ;" what judgment ? the judgment of the devil, " that the prince of this world might be cast out." And an apostle asserts to the same effect ; " for this purpose was the Son of God manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil." On a point so clear, let us not unneces- sarily dwell, but proceed to take notice of, 3. The singular means which the Son of God used in order to effect his design. Death, his own death in human nature, was the means he employed for breaking the power of the enemy. In the same nature that Satan had destroyed, he came to destroy him; and by the same means by which the devil spread destruction, he came to lay waste his empire ; that the nature which he had trampled on and abused, might have the honour of treading on the power of the enemy ; and that death, which had been our ruin, might be the devil's. A truly singular method of overcoming the enemy ! The means seemed very unlikely and unfit for the enterprize, but Christ chose, by unlikely means, " to confound the things that are mighty," and by crucifixion " in weakness," demonstrate the greatness of his power, and manifest the completeness of his triumph. When Christ died in our cause, it manifested the unparalleled ardour of his love, and the uncommon difficulty of the task which he had engaged to perform. He had not only to engage in battle, but in battle to fall. But his death was not his defeat ; it was his triumph. In dying he was victorious. The serpent Avounded the Saviour's heel, brought his human nature to the dust of death; but Christ meanwhile was breaking the serpent's head. How ignominious the situation of Christ in death, considered in one point of view ! how glorious, viewed in a different light ! Apparent defeat, but real victory ! AND ITS DESIGN. 151 Himself to appearance put to shame ; but his enemies in reality overthrown ! for he " spoiled principalities and powers, and made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in the cross." The great Captain of our salvation was not defeated by death ; he was " made perfect through sufferings ;" mani- fested at once his courage and his skill ; perfected his glorious undertaking, and completely effected the desti'uction " of him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." But how, it may be asked, was the death of the Saviour, a fit, a proper means of effecting this glorious design of his incar- nation ? How could he, through death, destroy the power of the enemy ? Why, the devil's power in the world, took its rise fi'om his introducing sin into it ; and Christ's death was calculated to destroy this ; for he died in order " to finish transgression, and make an end of sin." The devil's power was established in the world by guilt, which gave him a power over men as criminals condemned to death ; but Christ's death was fitted to destroy his power in this respect ; for he died as an atonement for guilt, to make " peace by the blood of his cross," The devil's power was connected with the influence of the curse of the law, of which he was the execu- tioner ; but Christ's death was intended to remove this, for he died " to redeem us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us." The devil's power was confirmed by the vo- luntary subjection of men to his authority ; but Christ's death was designed to destroy this, for he was " lifted up to draw all men unto him," and " to deliver those from the snare of the devil who were taken captive by him at his will." Did the law give authority to Satan over men ? Christ died in order " to blot out the handwi'iting of ordinances that was against us, and to take it out of the way, nailing it to his cross." Did the devil alarm the consciences of men with apprehension of death and fears of hell ? Christ died in order " to deliver them who all their lifetime through fear of death were subject to bondage." In whatever light we consider death, of which the devil had the power, the 'death of Christ was fitted for 152 THE INCARNATION, delivering fi-om it. The death of Christ was truly the death of death. Legal death Christ removed out of the way, for he was condemned that we might be justified ; spiritual death, for he died that our " old man might be crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we might not serve sin ;" temporal death in its sting, for " the sting of death is sin," and he died " to condemn sin in the flesh," and to disarm death of its sting ; and temporal death in its dominion, for he died to be " the plague of death, and the destruction of the grave ;" " to redeem his people from death, and ransom" their bodies at last " from the power of the grave." And as for eternal death, he died that the " second death might have no power over them," to " redeem the souls of his people from destruction," to " deliver them from the snare of the fowler," " that so whether they should sleep or wake they might live together with him." How well fitted then was the death of Christ for eifecting the destruction of the devil, and of those things in which his power lay ! And if we consider, 4. The success which Christ had in his enterprise. We will find that it was answerable to the warmest wishes, to the most sanguine expectations of his people. It is well expressed in the text: the devil " had the power of death," but now he hath it not. " I beheld," said Christ in the prospect of it, " Satan falling as lightning from heaven." When ap- proaching nearer to the great conflict, he shouted an earnest of triumph, " Now shall the prince of this world be cast out;" and, at the close of the conflict, he, in the very article of death, proclaimed, " It is finished," Look we to the con- sequences ? we see Satan divested of the power of death ; for, in spite of him, the dead Saviour arose triumphant, yea, ascended in our nature to the highest heavens, " leading capti- vity captive," and taking his seat at God's right hand, " till all his enemies be made his footstool." The further illustration of this particular, however, together with the principal improve- ment of this subject, I refer till afterwards, and at present conclude with some inferences. AND ITS DESIGN. 153 (1.) We learn hence, in what the true dignity of human nature consists. In what? Not in the strength of our reasoning powers, not in the supposed power of the moral sense, or our capacities for improvement. Were this all our glory, our glory would be that of a king deprived of his authority, divested of his crown ; for the " crown is fallen from our head, and woe unto us, that we have sinned." In what then consists the dig- nity of our nature ? In this, that it was assumed by the Son of God, that in union to his person it destroyed the devil and his works, and is worn by him in the highest heavens. Let others glory in their shame ; let them foolishly boast ot ideal dignity, and dream of riches, while they are miserably poor; in this will we glory, that the brightness of the Father's glory is Immanuel, that the Mediator between God and man is the man Christ Jesus, that the Captain of salvation is our brother, a partaker of flesh and blood, and is not ashamed to call us brethi-en. (2.) We learn hence, that the children of God have no reason to be afraid of the devil. Afraid of him they ought to be in one respect, for they are not ignorant of his devices; and a holy caution ought to be exercised, in avoiding his hidden snares, in watching against his secret wiles, as well as a holy boldness in resisting his fiery darts, and in repelling them. But a slavish fear of him is unreasonable, is shameful. Wlio would tremble at the strength of a giant bound in chains, or the open mouth of a dead lion? And why shouldest thou, O child of God, live in perpetual terror on account of the great but conquered adversary? Has not Christ destroyed him? Has he not power "over all the power of the enemy?" Can Satan tear thee in pieces without any to deliver? Hast thou not evidence that stronger is he that is on thy side, than all they that be against thee ? Has not the Conqueror of the devil said, " None shall pluck them out of my hand ? " He has, that is his honour ; he has, that is thy safety. Why, then, shouldest thou " forget the Lord 154 THE INCARNATION, AND ITS DESIGN. thy Maker, that stretched forth the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth? " Why shouldest thou " fear continu- ally every day, because of the fury of the oppressor, as if he were ready to destroy? for where is the fury of the oppressor? " He may grin, but he cannot devour. He may distress, but he cannot destroy thee. No; " the enemy was not able to exact" upon Christ, " nor the son of wickedness to afflict him. He beat down his foes before his face, and plagued them that hated him." And shall he not also " bruise Satan under thy feet shortly?" "Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." (3.) We learn hence, that the death of Christ ought to be a favourite subject of contemplation vnth his childi-en. If heroic deeds deserve to be admired ; if great and generous and extensively usefiil performances are entitled to our gi'ateful notice and remembrance; here is a subject which has a pecu- liar claim upon our attention. In the death of Christ everything is memorable, every circumstance worthy to be engraven in indelible characters upon our hearts. It is the death of the most illustrious of persons; not of the son of a prince, but of the only-begotten Son of God. It is a death for the most patriotic of purposes, — for the redemption of the children from the power of the devil and the dominion of sin. It is a death suflfered in the most glorious of causes — in the cause of God and of men, in the vindication of the rights of his government, and in the rescue of the oppressed and miserable. It is a death productive of the greatest of revolutions; it hath turned the prince of darkness fi'om his throne, and bound his rebel associates in chains. It is a death which hath effected the most beneficial of purposes; it hath reconciled God, satisfied the law, purchased heaven, and saved the lost. Ought you not then. Christians, to dwell on it in your meditations with delight, to speak of it with gratitude, to commemorate it with joy? Ought you not to say, " If I forget thee, 0 Jesus, let my right hand forget her cunning; if I do not remember thy death, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth," Amen. THE GOSPEL FEAST. 155 11. THE GOSPEL FEAST. Matthew xxii. 4. — " Tell them which are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner : my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready ; come unto the marriage." This pai'able conveys to us, by means of familiar imagery, much important information respecting the dispensation of tlie gospel. The blessings of salvation are represented in it under the notion of a sumptuous entertainment, served up at a mar- riage feast. The entertainment is made by the great King, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ ; and his only-begotten and well-beloved Son, Jesus Christ, is the honourable person, for the celebration of whose nuptials with his Church, the feast is prepared. To this royal entertainment the servants of God invite men, as often as by his commandment they preach the gospel. They who accept the invitation are those who believe their word ; but unbelieving men are they Avho refuse it, and, who, by their contempt of his grace, provoke the King's indignation, and suffer his fiercest wrath. Such are the great outlines of the meaning of this parable ; whicb. exhibits to us, on the one hand, the riches of divine grace, iu the noble preparations made for the salvation of sinful men ; while, on the other hand, it shows the singular perverseness, and the awful doom of all such as obstinately persevere in unbelief. It is an important question, who the persons are whom tlie great King invites to this royal feast. The parable speaks of two distinct classes of persons who have been called ; the one are styled, "them which were bidden," in reference to some 156 THE GOSPEL FEAST. previous invitation which they had received before the feast was prepared ; and the other, are described as persons who were wandering on the highways, and had never heard of the feast before, nor received any invitation to come to it. By the first, it is evident we must understand the Je^vish nation, who had, long before the gospel dispensation commenced, enjoyed a revelation of divine grace, and to whom the first oifers of the gospel were addressed ; and by the second is doubtless meant the Gentile world, who were " aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise," and who received no invitation to the christian feast, till God's ancient people had refused to come. The Jewish nation, indeed, was, in these respects, singularly pri- vileged. God had all along, during a space of nearly two thousand years, been sending his servants to give them notice of his gi-acious design for the salvation of men, and calling them to the faith of Christ ; for Christ and his salvation were the substance of their law, and the great subject of prophecy. And, when the time arrived when this spiritual feast was served up on the gospel table, they were reminded of their former invitations, and received, in preference to all others, a call to come to the feast and partake of the divine bounty. These kind messages, however, the great body of the Jews heard, some with indifference, others with contempt and determined aversion, and, when called, would not come. But, as if unvdlling to take them short, God bore with the affront of so rude a refusal, and soon after sent forth other servants, with a fuller, kinder, and more pressing invitation. For no sooner was the gospel feast fully prepared, than he sent forth the apostles and other christian ministers to preach the gospel, with express orders to begin at Jerusalem, and call the Jews to the faith of Christ, And this is the substance of the message with which they were sent : " Tell them which were bidden. Behold, I have prepared my dinner : my oxen and my fallings are killed, and all things are ready ; come unto the marriage.'' THE GOSPEL FEAST. 157 This message, which was fii'St addressed to the Jews, we find from the ninth verse, was addressed also soon after to the Gentiles. It is, in fact, the substance of that gospel, which is stiU, " by the commandment of the everlasting God, preached to the nations for the obedience of faith," and must be con- sidered, as the voice of God addressed to us sinners of the Gentiles. Let us then attend, first, to the gospel message ; and, secondly, to the gospel invitation. The message runs thus : " Behold, I have prepared my dinner : my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready." The invi- tation follows : " Come unto the marriage." May God enable us to understand and believe the message, and to comply with the gracious invitation ! I. Let us consider the message : " Behold, I have pre- pared my dinner : my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready." It Avould be exti'emely injudicious to attempt to affix a precise and determinate spiritual meaning to each of the several expressions here used. The language is accommodated to the parabolical representation of the gospel dispensation ; and the general intention of it is to intimate, that, in the method of grace revealed in the gospel, there is nothing awanting for the salvation of sinners, but that every thing necessary for it is proAaded and prepared in the best manner. Let me open up the import of the message of the gospel, in allusion to the language of the parable. It may be expressed in four particulars : The great King has resolved on giving a splendid entertainment to every sinner of Adam's family who will accept of it ; the season for this entertainment has arrived ; every article of provision for the feast has been provided ; and all is ready for immediate use. 1. The message informs us, that the great King has resolved on giving a splendid entertainment to every sinner of AdanCs family, who will accept of it. The God of heaven has never, indeed, shown himself deficient in liberality to his favourite creature man. When he created him, he set him down at a table. 158 THE GOSPEL FEAST. furnished with every thing calculated to please his appetite, and to satisfy his soul. The earth was one vast table covered for his use, to which he was not introduced, till it was loaded with plenty. A feast was provided with equal liberality for his soul. God revealed himself to him, as a feast to his understanding, by the contemplation of his infinite excel- lencies in his works ; and as a feast to his heart, by the delightful enjoyment of fellowship with him in love. What a rich entertainment for both parts of his nature ! All the fruits of the new formed earth, each in their highest perfection, for the use of his body ; and God himself, the chief good, as the portion of his soul ! This feast, alas, has been withdrawn, because man had scarcely sat down to it before he began to despise the divine liberality, and lusted after the only article fi-om which God had interdicted him, the fruit of the forbidden tree. Our race, in consequence, has been sent abroad into the world, blasted by the curse ; in which, instead of the delights of Eden, we can only earn by hard labour a scanty subsistence to our bodies, but cannot, by all our labour, find anything fit for the nourishment of the immortal soul. " Our iniquities have separated between God and us, and have caused him hide his face from us." What a deplorable condition ! Our appetite for happiness remains, but we have not the means of gratifying it. Urged by desire, we seek it in the possession of worldly riches, of temporal honours, of sensual pleasures. But these, what are they but " husks which the s-^due do eat," a coarse food, and unsatisfactory to the soul ? Though man eat of such provision, he has not enough ; his appetite is filled even to loathing, but his soul is empty : and amidst all the enjoyments of the world, he is in danger of dying miserably of want, and perish- ing for ever. Is there, say you, no hope ? The sinner can discover none. The way to paradise is blocked up ; the fruits which grow on the tree of life are put beyond the sinner's reach, and in vain does he stretch out his hand in desire, for he cannot now take THE GOSPEL FEAST. 159 and eat, and live foi' ever. Yet, " God has of his goodness pro- vided for the poor." He has resolved to display the " exceed- ing riches of his grace, in his kindness towards us through Christ Jesus." Salvation has been determined to be bestowed, where damnation was deserved ; grace to be displayed, where justice might have been exercised. Those who deserved to eat of the fruit of their own doings in eternal sufferings, God has graciously purposed to feed to the full with the choicest fruits which grow in the paradise of God. "What royal, what more than royal, generosity ! Moved by mercy, not by our merit, he has resolved to save the lost. He purposed it in himself before the world began. His infinite wisdom then formed the plan of our salvation, and arranged every thing respecting it, in the very best manner, and on the most liberal terms. A Saviour was then proAdded,' and eternal life in Christ promised ; and all proceeded from the overflowing of his compassionate heart, unsolicited by the sinner's prayers, and unmoved by his goodness. Hear then the message of the great King. We bring you in the gospel good news from the far country, news refreshing to him that believes, as cold water to the thu'sty soul. We announce the everlasting love of God, and the marvellous purposes and contrivances of his grace. We assure you, that he has long since proposed to give a full, and never-ceasing feast of happiness to miserable souls, and has given express orders to provide the entertainment. The entertainment which he proposes to give is splendid as becomes his infinite majesty, plentiful as your necessities require, and delightful beyond your highest hopes and desires. It surpasses the hap- piness you lost in Adam ; paradise had nothing so exquisite as what is provided for sinners in Christ. The favour of God, likeness to God, fellowship with God ; grace now, glory here- after ; a free, a full, an everlasting salvation. Such are the liberal things which the liberal heart of a gracious God has devised for us miserable sinners. What divine munificience ! Who can express the riches of divine grace in purposing it ? 160 THE GOSPEL FEAST. or Avho can describe the happiness of those who shall sit down to feast eternally on this royal banquet? "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prejjared for them that love him." 2. The message informs us that the season for this royal enter- tainment has arrived. The purpose of God respecting the sal- vation of men, which was formed before the world began, was announced long before the time of the execution of it arrived. "Wliat, indeed, were the promises made to the patriarchs, but intimations of God's design of mercy towards lost mankind? What were the carnal ordinances of the Mosaic law, but typical preiigurations of gospel grace ? and what were the predictions of the ancient jirophets, but divine assurances that God intended, ill due time, to bless mankind with the full revelation of the mystery of his will, and the enjoyment of the salvation of the gospel ? Men were informed, in ancient times, by these means, of the spiritual feast which God was preparing for them, " a feast of fat things, " it is called, " of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees, of wines on the lees well refined ; " an entertainment, not, indeed, in these early ages served up in all its splendour, but reserved to be the privilege of a future and happier age. These notices raised expectation, and excited strong desire. For the day when it should arrive holy men, accordingly, prayed, and looked, and waited, and longed. They were persuaded that it was hastening on, and they rejoiced in the anticipation of the happiness which should then be enjoyed. But they possessed not those high advantages which we enjoy, who have seen the period arrive to which they looked forward with such fervour of desire ; " God having provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect. " The long period of four thousand years was suffered to elapse, from the first notification of God's design of grace, till the actual arrival of the happy time Avhen the promised blessing should be bestowed. But his design was not forgotten. He was all the while making preparations for the New Testament feast. THE GOSPEL FEAST. 161 Messages of gi'ace were sent one after another, and every suc- ceeding messenger brought some new and interesting informa- tion to excite the faith, the hope, the gratitude, and the joy of the church. At length the long expected period arrived, and the day of gospel grace began to dawn on the world. The Saviour was born ; salvation was finished ; the gospel was preached ; the Gentiles were called ; and all at the precise period determined in the divine purpose, and predicted by the prophets. And " blessed," let us say with Zachai'ias, "blessed be the Lord God of Israel ; for he hath \'isited and redeemed his people, and hath raised up an horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David ; as he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, which have been since the world began." Hear then the message of the great King. He commands us to inform you, that the season of grace, the day of salvation, the acceptable year of the Lord has arrived. The Saviour has come ; God has been manifested in the flesh ; and " your eyes now see, and your ears hear, what many prophets and righteous men desired to see and hear," and wei-e not permitted. The vail has been drawn aside which hid much of the glory of divine grace from the eyes of ancient saints ; and now, " with open face," you are invited " to behold in the glass" of the gospel, " the glory of the Lord." He calls you to contemplate his royal bounty, not through dark prophecies, not through carnal ordinances, not through slain beasts and the smoke of incense, but to hear of it in the preaching of the gospel, in which Christ " is evidently set forth before you ci'ucified and slain." You see it in the light of the New Testament, in the word and ordi- nances of his gi'ace. The ancients had prefigurations, we have the very substance of the things ; they had promises, we have the performance ; they had predictions, we have their accom- plishment. The day has arrived of which Isaiah prophesied, when " the Lord of Hosts would make unto all people a feast of fat things." Who would not rejoice who is invited to such a feast I and who can be unhappy who accepts the invitation ? " Blessed is he that eateth bread in the kingdom of God." 162 THE GOSPEL FEAST. 3. The message informs us, that every article necessary for the fca^t is provided. A splendid entertainment may have been resolved on, and the time appointed for it an-ive, while, by want of prudent foresight or want of ability, the necessary articles of provision may not have been procured. It has not happened thus with regard to the gospel feast. The great God "has abounded towards us in aU wisdom and prudence." In consequence, all his arrangements for our salvation were wisely made, and seasonably executed. WTien the time of the commencement of the gospel feast approached, he sent, such was his care ! Ins own Son into the world to purchase those spiritual good things with which he intended to bless the children of men. He sent him, because there was not a ser- vant in aU his house to whom he could entrust the manage- ment of a business which required such ability and skill. Not an angel among all the multitude who surrounded his tlirone, though they are all intelligent beings, zealous in his service, and long accustomed to go his messages, and execute them faithfully,— not one of them could he entrust with the management of a business which so nearly concerned his own honour, and the eternal welfare of sinners. Had any one of them been worthy to have the charge committed to him, never, doubtless, would the Son of the Highest himself have been sent into so mean a world as this, and on so servile an errand. And what a proof of the splendour of the feast with which God intends eternally to entertain sinners, that so great a person as the Son of God, his equal in glory, and the partner of his throne, has had the charge committed to him of making the requisite provision ! If, however, every article of this gi-eat entertainment must be provided, where, it may be asked, shall the necessary sum be procured ? Pardon and peace, favour and fellowship ^vith God, holiness and happiness, grace and glory, earth and heaven, time and eternity, are articles of immense value and of difficult pur- chase. Salvation, if to be purchased with the sinner's own money, must have been absolutely and eternally beyond his reach. All THE GOSPEL FEAST. 163 the treasures of the world collected into one vast sum could not be adequate value for one smile of Jehovah's countenance, or purchase one morsel of the bread, or one draught of the water of life. How then could we purchase the innumerable blessings of redemption ? None of us, with all our wealth, and all our fancied merit, could " redeem his brother, or pay to God a ransom for his soul." Herein, however, appears the grace of God in our redemption. Though its blessings were all to be purchased, the entertainment is free to the sinner ; he eats and drinks " without money and without price." The maker of the feast furnished all out of his own stores, and is at the whole expense. Every article was paid for by the Son of God, that to the sinner it might be absolutely free. How great the sum which it cost must have been, may be learned from the splendour and variety of the entertainment. Yet all that was necessary the Son of God laid down. Nothing was ob- tained under value. The full price, without dedviction or abatement, was given for every article in the blessedness of saints, for every blessing of the covenant, every grace of the Spirit, every joy of the believing soul, every felicity of the heavenly state. But what was the price ? " We were not redeemed with corruptible things such as silver and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ ;" — the Son of God gave his own life for us ; he laid it down as the price of our re- demption. Never would he have been a sufferer, if he had not suffered for us. Every pain he endured, every pang he felt from the cradle to the cross, was for our sake. And so much was his heart set on our salvation, that he patiently, yea, cheerfully, endured all, knowing that the fruit of all was eternal joy to miserable men. Let us then listen with joy to the gospel message. It as- sures us that every blessing presented to us in the gospel was purchased by the Son of God, and is, of course, free to us. The blood of Christ is the glorious price. From a cup of cold water to the noblest enjoyment of the heavenly kingdom, all is purchased. The blood of Jesus was full value for our 164 THE GOSPEL FEAST. souls, precious as they are, and for the heavenly felicity, great as it undoubtedly is ; for it was the blood of God's Son : and "vvhat is there so great or so good which it could not purchase ? One drop of this precious blood is of more value than the cattle on a thousand hills ; his life's blood must have had merit to purchase worlds. Besides, the inestimable price has not only been laid down, but accepted ; for " the Lord is well pleased for his righteousness' sake." " We have redemption," therefore, " through his blood ; even the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace." The great creditor cannot interpose to forbid the gospel feast ; as every article has been completely paid for by what has been esteemed current money in the court of heaven, and full value for all the articles of the entertainment with which redeemed men are to be eternally feasted. 4. The message informs us, that all is ready for immediate use. In the language of the parable, not only are " the oxen and the fatlings killed," but " the dinner is prepax-ed." Our salvation and every thing necessary for our enjoyment of it is fully ready. Nothing remains to be done for entitling the perishing soul to come by faith and partake of Christ and true felicity. The Son of God who was sent from heaven to pre- pare the feast, applied himself so diligently and successfully to the work, that he did not desist till it was completed. What meant his loud cry before he gave up the ghost, " It is finished ? " Was it not an intimation that his work was finished, and the feast fully prepared ? that the law was mag- nified, that justice was satisfied, that atonement was made, that God was reconciled, that Satan Avas conquered, that heaven was pwchased? The Son of God could not have risen from the dead, ascended to heaven, and appeared in the presence of God, if he had left any part of his work undone. His entrance into glory is the grand confirmation of our faith in this most consolatory truth ; for, " he entered into heaven," we are told, " by his own blood, having obtained eternal re- demption for us." On the faith of this rests the hope of our guilty souls ; for, were one demand of the law unsatisfied, one THE GOSPEL FEAST. 1G5 claim of justice unanswered, one blessing of salvation not pro- cured, vain were our hopes of eternal life. Vfho could put his hand to the work, or pretend to be able to finish what the Son of God had left undone ? The sinner must have a salva- tion made ready for him, and nothing left for him to do but to put out the hand of faith and accept it, otherwise he never could enjoy it. He must have nothing to do either for pro- curing or preparing salvation for himself : for nothing can he do ; he has neither power nor skill. He can only at the di\'ine bidding, and as grace enables him, come and partake of a salvation already prepared. Listen then to the message of the great King. He sends to assure us that all things are ready. The Saviour returned not to his Father's house till he had made every thing ready for the sinner's salvation. And we may be assured that all is well prepared, since it has been prepared by the divine skill of the Son of God. Salvation is not to be acquired by our own labour and diligence ; Christ hath taken the burden on himself, and finished it. We have not previously to qualify ourselves for partaking of Chi'ist and his benefits by prayers, by repentance, by sincere obedience, by a course of good works. These are the duty of men saved by grace, but not requisites to entitle us to come to Christ for salvation. We have nothing to do but to come at God's call, stretch out the hand of faith, and partake. 0 what good news is brought us by the gospel message ! If the sinner perish, it is not because provision has not been made for his salvation. For " all things are ready." The Father is ready to receive us into his favour and family, for God is reconciled in Christ. The Son is ready to bless us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places, for as you have heard, he has purchased them with his blood ; they are com- mitted to his hand, and he waits ready to dispense them to guilty, miserable men. The Holy Ghost is ready to enlighten, to regenerate, to sanctify, to comfort you ; for he has been given because Jesus is glorified. Grace is ready, for the Saviour " waits that he may be gi-acious, and is exalted that 16t) THE GOSPEL FEAST. he may have mercy" on you. Glory, heaven is ready, for the Saviour has many centuries ago gone to prepare it. Say not that you yourselves are not ready; for all the readiness required of you, is need, great and urgent need of the salvation which has been prepared. If you need pardon, the blood of Christ is ready for that purpose, and you have only to come by faith to the blood of sprinkling, and be forgiven all trespasses. If you need sanctification, the Spirit of Christ is ready to wash you with the washing of regeneration, and purify your unholy souls. If you need access to God, the throne of grace is erected, and you may come immediately to it with boldness through Christ. If you desire consolation, it is prepared for you, and you have only " to drink and remember your sorroAV no more," If you desire heaven and its joys, it is a purchased possession. Jesus stands with the keys thereof in his hand, and coming by faith, you will find the door open, and his table covered with fulness of joy. II. Having said so much concerning the import of the message, let me speak more briefly of the invitation. The great King orders his servants, after dehvering his message to their fellow sinners, to follow it up with an invitation to them in his name, to come and partake of what his bounty has prepared. The invitation is to a spii'itual feast, and we obey it by coming to Christ by faith, for it is thus, and thus only, that we can par- take of the benefits of his salvation. Hear then the invitation of the great King, " Come unto the marriage," come partake of the salvation which in the abundance of his grace, and at great expense, he has provided for your perishing souls : come without hesitation, come Tvathout farther delay ; for the Master of the feast is in waiting to receive you ; the entertain- ment, rich as it is, is free ; all are welcome ; the need of each of you is g'-eat ; you can find no such entertainment anyAvhere else ; though many have entered before you, there is yet room, and your acceptance of the invitation will give delight to thou- sands of your best friends. THE GOSPEL FEAST. 167 1. Come, for the Master of the feast is waiting to receive you, and give you welcome. Sinner, " The Mastei* is come, and call- eth for thee." He has ah'eady waited long, " not willing that you should perish." He has waited patiently, not willing to take you at your word on a first refusal ; and has called often and earnestly on you to listen to his voice. Has he not indeed " stretched out his hands all day long to you," though " a rebel- lious people?" Has he not called you by the voice of conscience, by the voice of providence, and by the voice of his gospel, and given you " precept upon precept, and line upon line ?" And ah ! shall it be said that he called, and you would not answer ? that he stretched out his hands, and you would not regard ? must his servants go back with the mournful tidings, " Lord, we did as thou hast commanded, and they would not come ? " We told them that thou wast waiting and wast calling, but they would not credit the information, nor give heed. Be persuaded the Master of the feast Avill not always wait. His dinner is provided, and must be enjoyed ; and if you will not come, others shall. Perhaps he may soon withdraw, and you hear his inviting voice no more. And, oh, how will you mourn with unavailing sorrow, mourn eternally over your folly, when you reflect, after hope is past, the door shut, and the table Avith- drawn, that salvation was in your offer, and that you despised it ! Provoke him not by continued refusal, for great as is now his grace, so afterwards will be liis wrath against all who slight his Son and salvation. 2. Come, for the entertainment to which you are invited, rich as it is, is free. He who provided the feast knows your poverty, and does not tantalize his sinful creatures by asking a price for his salvation which he knows they are unable to pay. A salvation suspended on conditions, would be no salvation to those who cannot perform them; and what could any of you do to deserve his salvation? Despise it not, because it is free; for this is the glory of it, and this is the very circumstance which commends the divine generosity, and shows that it is adapted to the necessity of your case. Dare not to insult the 168 THE GOSPEL FEAST. majesty of Heaven by offering anything of your o\\'n for his salvation. Dare not, lest he shoukl say, " Thy money perish ■wnth thee." You must partake freely, or not at all. On the other hand, be not discouraged, keep not back, because you are conscious of great guilt and vileness. Though you are unworthy, he calls you to a free entertainment. This is his language: "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk, -wdthout money and without price." In this he honours his own liberality. " For by gi'ace are ye saved, through faith; not of works, lest any man should boast." 3. Come, /or all are icelcome. The salvation of the gospel is denominated the common salvation, because, as there is a common need for it in the family of Adam, and a common suitableness in it to the exigencies of their case, so access to enjoy it is open alike to all. The invitation is addressed to every one that has ears to hear, and if any come not to the feast, it is not because there is not access, and he will not find welcome ; but because he ^^^ll not come to Christ, that he may have life. Consider the order given to the servants, " Go ye, therefore, into the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage." No preference is given to the great over the common people, to the rich over the poor, to the learned over the ignorant ; all are bidden without regard to the distinctions which prevail among men. Yea, your moral character which, if bad, might exclude you from respectable worldly society, does not prevent your access to Christ for the blessings of his salvation. The servants, in the parable, when they went into the highways, gathered together, it is said, " all, as many as they found, both the bad and good ; " and none were refused. Why then should any of you reason against God, and your OAvn souls ? Why object to accept the invitation, because you are poor in this world, or are conscious to yourselves of gi'eat guilt and un- worthincss? Accept the offered mercy with thankfulness. Say, " Behold we come unto thee, for thou art the Lord our THE GOSPEL FEAST. 169 God." You will find the door of grace open, and receive most cordial welcome, "for him that cometh, he will in no wise cast out." 4. Come, for your need is great. Some of you have gone farther astray than others; but there is not one among you that can decline, on the ground that you need not the salvation of Christ. "VVHiat ! are you not all sinners ? Have you not often confessed yourselves to be so ? Out of your own mouths you are condemned, if you think you need not Christ and his salvation. And how can you escape, if you come not at his bidding? "For there is not another name given under heaven, whereby you can be saved." You vdll not always enjoy as much ease in sin as you now enjoy. Disease will overtake you ; death is not far off ; eternity is approaching ; and how wretched must you then be, if now you refuse to come! The God of mercy, sinners, pities your deplorable case. He bids us press the invitation upon you ; he bids us say, " Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die ? " Dream not of safety otherwise ; there is no safety for a sinner but in Christ. Those things in which you trust, will prove refuges of lies. I counsel you, therefore, to " buy of Christ, gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear ; and anoint thine eye with salve, that thou mayest see." 5. Come, for you can find no such entertaimnent any where else. Hitherto you have sought for happiness elsewhere, but you have sought it in vain ; and as it has been, so it will be. Wliy then hew out to yourselves " broken cisterns which can hold no water ? " Why continue to "spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not ? " Behold what is infinitely better, served upon the gospel table. Come, the Master calls. Come, he says, " eat ye that which is good, and let your souls delight themselves in fat- ness." "Wisdom hath builded her house; she hath hewn out her seven pillars ; she hath killed her beasts ; she hath mingled her wine ; she hath also furnished her table : Come," she says, H 107 THE GOSPEL FEAST. " eat of my bread, and drink of the wine that I have muigled. Forsake the foolish and live." 6. Come, for though many have entered before you, yet there is rooT)} Many in former ages; many earlier in life than you ; many since you were first invited ; but the house is not filled; the King is generous; the provision abundant 7. Come, for your coming ivill delight many. God, angels, saints, ministers THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 171 III. THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 1 John ii. 1. — " If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." It is the glory of the gospel of Christ, first, that it forbids men to sin, and, secondly, that when they have sinned, it forbids them to despair. If there were not another passage of Scriptm'e which could be quoted in proof of this assertion, the passage, of which the text forms a part, puts the matter beyond doubt. The gospel, as appears from the first part of the passage, does not encourage, but forbids and condemns sin in every individual who professes to believe it: "My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not." It is not, as it has been falsely alleged, the enemy, but the friend of good morals. The grace which it publishes is not intended to sub- vert, but to establish the law of God: and those who preach it will, if they understand the doctrine which they preach, be the strenuous advocates of holy living, and exhibit its grace as the most powerful persuasive to universal holiness of heart and life. But this is not its only glory, that it forbids sin, and is, when believed, the most efficacious means of weaning man from the love and practice of it. They who believe the gospel, as well as others, are imperfect men, and, notwithstanding their greatest caution, are often surprised by temptation, and commit sin. As Paul says of himself, " the good that they would they do not, but the evil that they would not that they do;" and, as James says of himself and his brethren, "in many things they all offend." In this case (when a Christian 172 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. has committed sin), the same gospel, which is a preservative from sin, becomes the remedy against despair. Its eflScacy, which is felt in changing the sinner's heart, and leading him sincerely to aim at serving God " in righteousness and holiness before him all the days of his life," is equally felt in supporting and consoling his heart, under the consciousness that he has not uniformly acted up to his principles, nor kept himself in every instance unspotted from the world. It admits it as possible that, notwithstanding the truth of religion in his heart, he may, yea, it supposes that he often will, commit sin. It solemnly warns him against sin as his disgrace, and un- worthy his character and hopes ; and condemns the sin which he commits, and himself for committing it. It calls him, on the one hand, to vigilance, that he may not offend, and on the other, to deep humiliation and bitter repentance, when he has offended. But it bids him not despair. It assures him that his case is not hopeless; that, though he has no apology to offer for himself, and deserves to be expelled for ever from God's family, and thrust down to hell, he has a Friend who takes an interest in his affairs, who pleads his cause, and who will effectually provide that sin shall not be imputed to his eternal condemnation. " K any man sin, we have an Ad- vocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." Let us consider this subject more particularly, and direct your attention, first, to the Judge; secondly, to the CRnnNALs; and, thirdly, to the Advocate who pleads their cause. The Judge is denominated "the Father;" the criminals are Chris- tians who have in any instance sinned; and the Advocate, who pleads their cause, is " Jesus Christ the righteous." I. The Judge, before whose bar the sinning Christian is arraigned, and in whose presence his Advocate pleads, is in the text denominated "the Father;" a title expressive at once of his greatness and of his grace. Of his greatness : the Judge is the great Father of the universe, " the former of all things," the Lord of angels and men, " the one Lawgiver, who is able THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 173 to save and to destroy," " the Judge of the whole earth." How awful his majesty! how fearful a thing to transgress his law, and appear as a criminal at the bar of the living God! But the Judge is also the Father in a sense that expresses his grace — " the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," and in him the Father of all Avho truly believe in his name; who, having by his gi'ace adopted them into his family, permits them to address him by this endearing title, and engages to act towards them the part of a kind and indulgent parent. Yet, let it not be supposed that, because the Judge sustains the gracious relation of a Father, our veneration of him should be dimin- ished, our fear of offending him in any degree abated. " Our God is a consuming fire." He has an eternal and irreconcile- able hatred of sin. His nature abhors it; his law condemns it; and his lips, that speak nothing but truth, have threatened to punish it " with everlastmg destruction fi-om the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power." He pronounces it "the abominable thing which his soul hateth;" and has proclaimed it as his character, which he will inviolably main- tain, and according to which he will never cease to act, that " he is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and that he cannot look on iniquity." The circumstance that the individual, who has committed sin, has been received into his family, and hitherto treated as a son, makes no alteration in the case. God loses not the character of the holy and righteous Judge, who hates, and who vrill punish iniquity, when he assumes the gracious char- acter of Father. Tlie nature of sin is not altered, because it is a son that commits it; and iniquity, abhorred of God who- ever he be that commits it, is not the less, but the more abhorred by him, that it is committed by those who are better informed than others, and are under deeper obligations to do the things that please him. It is the token of weakness in earthly parents, when they are disposed to apologise for that in their own children which they condemn in strangers, and suffer that to pass with impunity in them, which they would severely punish 174 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. in others. Our "God is no respecter of persons ; " and as the sins of his own people are in many respects more highly- aggravated, and more inexcusable than those of other men, they deserve severer punishment firom God, the Judge of all, and would, for certain, be more severely punished, were there no powerful Advocate with the Father, to plead their cause, and prevent wi'ath fi'om coming upon them to the utter- most. Such is the character of the Judge before whom our great Advocate pleads, — a Father, indeed, and gracious, but a Father gi'ievously offended, and daily provoked by our trans- gressions; a Father, but at the same time a Judge, infinitely holy and inflexibly just, unalterable in his abhorrence of sin, faithful to his threatenings, and powerful to execute them. •' WTio could stand before this holy Lord God? " Every heart of God's people might quake, and every face gather paleness, had we none to plead our cause ; were there not an Advocate with him, Avhose powerful influence and arguments prevail in our behalf. n. From the Judge, let us now turn to the cnnnNALS at the bar, whose cause the great Advocate pleads. Two things the text teaches concerning them; in general, they are Chris- tians ; and in particular, they are Christians u'ho have sinned. 1. I say, in the first place, in general, that the party for whom the great Advocate pleads at the bar of God the Judge, ai'e Christians, persons who believe in Christ. I do not mean to say, that the advocacy of Christ is confined to such as have already believed in Christ, and are actually the li\4ng mem- bers of his body the church. " Other sheep he has, who are not as yet of this fold," but are " wandering upon the moun- tains ;" " them he must bring in," and his powerful intercession on high in their behalf, is a principal means by which they are recovered from their wanderings, and introduced into the true sheepfold. Hence in his prayer, commonly called his intercessory prayer, which may be considered as a specimen of THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 175 his intercession in heaven, we hear him praying for them who were ah*eady members of his church, and adding, " neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word." But oui* blessed Lord, while he intei'cedes with the Father for all his people, whether they have as yet been effectually called by his grace or not, is not the Advocate of the human race in general. The party for whom he appears at the bar of the great God, is not the promiscuous multitude of transgressors, many of whom shall eternally perish in theii* sins. " He maketh intercession," says the apostle in one place, " for them that come unto God by him," and in another, " he appeareth in the presence of God for us." Yea, he himself settles the point, when he says to his Father, " I pray for them ; I pray not for the world, but for them which thou hast given me, for they are thine." It is the peculiar privilege of Clu-istians, and which accounts for the different issue of affau's in theii* case fi'om that of others, that they have a patron resident in the court of heaven, and pos- sessed of the gTcatest influence there, who warmly espouses their cause and urges their suits for forgiveness and salvation. In point of merit, they and others are the same ; both have done what is worthy of death ; but they are forgiven, while others are condemned ; they are saved, while others perish, because they have a Friend on high who appears on their be- half, and shows reason satisfactory to the great Judge, wdiy they should escape the punishment which they deserve, while others meet their fate, having none to stand up for them, and suffer for theii* crimes, the a^vful sentence of the law. 2. I noticed in particular, that the party for whom Christ the great Advocate pleads, are Christians who have sinned. "Were it not for sin, there would be no charge brought against us, either at the bar of conscience, or at the bar of God ; and not being chargeable with guilt, there would be no necessity for an advocate to represent our case and plead our pardon. But if any man has sinned, we need an advocate ; and it is the consolation of Christians, that in these circumstances, they have 176 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. one on whose abilities and zeal, they may place the most entire reliance. It is evident from this view of the case, that it is the privi- lege, not of some only of the people of God, but of all, that they have an Advocate ^vith the Father. It is universally true, not only that all who through grace, believe in God were sinners; that they had their conversation in times past in the lusts of the flesh, and walked according to the course of this world, but that, ever since their conversion, " there are ^dth them, even with them, sins against the Lord their God." " There is not a just man on earth that doeth good and sinneth not." Unsin- ning perfection was not the attainment of the apostles of the Lord. A Paul had not reached it ; he only " pressed towards the mark ;" and we may be assured (whatever may be asserted to the contrary by conceited professors of the christian faith who are ignorant of themselves and of the strictness of the divine law), it is not the attainment of any other man in this world. The words of the apostle John, in the 8th verse of the preceding chapter, ought to silence every vain boaster. " K we say," and he includes himself as well as his fellow Chris- tians, " if we say," not that we never sinned, not that we had no sin when we were converted to the faith of Christ, but if we say, " that we have no sin," that we never offend, " we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." Here, then, is a case not peculiar to some, but common to all the followers of the Lamb. AYhich of you is not conscious to himself of much infirmity, of many failings, of duties often neglected, or performed in a heartless and slovenly manner, of sins committed in number- less instances, in heart, in word, and in deed ? The better you are acquainted with yourselves, you -will be the more deeply sensible of the evil tendencies of your hearts, and of the innumer- able evils which comi)ass you about, and which you can never sutficiently deplore. Then what do you deserve ? Are you not base and vile in your own eyes, when you think of what you arc, and how you requite the Lord who has been gracious to you ? Do you not deserve to be cast out of his sight, ex- THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 1 77 pelled from his family, shut up in everUisting darkness ? If, in pai'ticular, you have been left to fall into any gi-osser sin, must not conscience smite you, and fill you with dreadful alarm ? What, in this case, shall you do ? You will of course apply to God whom you have offended, and implore forgiveness. This is the method which every gracious soul will take under the conviction of sin. You will confess your iniquities before him, and condemn yourselves. " Behold, I am vile, what shall I answer ? I will lay my hand upon my mouth." " I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes." " Against thee, thee only have I sinned." But what ground could you have to suppose that the great God, whom you have offended, would listen to you, would not rather be deaf to your most urgent entreaties, and pursue you from his presence ? A person Avho has sinned, can have no direct and immediate access to God, nor have any hope of audience in his own name for his own sake. It is here, as was in another case of old ; " Ye can- not see my face unless you bi'ing your brother with you." An advocate is necessary to appear in your stead. Though you pray, you must pray in his name; he must carry in your petitions and lay them down before the throne, and enforce them by those powerful arguments which he knows how to use, else your suit, however importunate, will infallibly be rejected. Here, then, is the high privilege, the strong consolation of Christians who have offended. If any man sin, we have an Advocate whose office it is to attend to the case of every poor dejected saint, who has sinned, and fears that his prayers will be shut out. He has on his breastplate, like the high priest of old, the names of the whole Israel of God, and he acts in behalf of the whole " household of faith." Holding the golden censer in his hand, " he offers much incense upon it, with the prayers of all saints ;" and their prayers are accepted, and their sins forgiven, because the intercession of the great Advo- cate prevails. III. It is time that I now proceed to speak more particularly 178 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. of the Advocate, who pleads the cause of offending Christians before the throne of their Father and Judge. So much of the comfort of Christians depends on the character of their Advo- cate, and on his capacity for managing their plea, that it deserves our particular attention. Let the following things then be considered : The character of the Advocate stands high with God the Judge ; he takes the deepest interest in favour of those for whom he pleads ; he is fully acquainted with their case ; he is never inattentive to any particular which concerns one of those for whom he acts ; he enforces their plea with the most powerful and irresistible arguments ; • 3,nd no wonder, if, in the last place, he uniformly prevails. 1. We have an Advocate ivhose character stands high icith God the Judge. There is no room for prejudice against the client, were it possible in this case to conceive it, on account of the person who has undertaken his cause. Our Friend, who has graciously engaged to appear for us in the presence of God, is of most unexceptionable character, and deservedly possesses the highest place in the esteem and affections of that God with whom we have to do. He is not like us, he never was a sinner. He is "Jesus Christ the Righteous;" nearly related to him who sits upon the throne, and deservedly the object of his warmest affection, his eternal and ineffable love ; a son who never offended him at any time, but always did what was pleasing in his sight, and who particularly merited and received the most signal proofs of the Father's love, for the zeal and fidelity with which, on earth, he " glorified him, and finished the work which he had gi^en him to do." Such is the character of our Advocate ; in point of i-ank, the only- begotten Son who dwelleth in the Father's bosom, and commits " not robbery in making himself equal with God;" in respect of reputation, aU spotless and pure, adorned with every ^-irtue in its highest perfection, esteemed and honoured by every competent judge, as having in all things the pre-eminence, and sun'ounded with the most unequivocal and highest tokens of the Father's regard ; " for the Father loveth the Son, and THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 1 70 has given all things into his hand." Now, Christians, are not your eternal concerns in the very best hands ? Who can doubt of the success of a cause which is managed by such an Advocate ? The Father bade him " ask for himself, and he would give him the heathen for his inheritance, and the utter- most parts of the earth for his possession." And the request of his lips was granted him. And when he asks for his people forgiveness, supplies of grace, preservation from evil, and eternal Ufe, can you suppose that he will be refused ? No, surely ; for when on earth, he could say with confidence, " I know that thou hearest me always ; " and since he has entered into heaven, and taken his seat at the right hand of the throne, we cannot suppose that his prayers will meet with less attention. 2. "We have an Advocate with the Father, who takes the deepest interest in our concerns. It often happens, that those who plead at the bar in earthly courts, are entire strangers to the persons in whose behalf they appear, and have no connec- tion whatever with them, beyond their engagement to act for them in the particular cause ; and such warmth of interest in the individual, and such zeal for the favourable issue of the plea, are scarcely to be expected from an incidental, mo- mentary, and mercenary connection, as in the case of long acquaintance, intimate connection, and ancient friendship. In the case of which we now speak, we have no reason to suspect a cold attention merely to Avhat the duty of the office requires, or indifference to the issue of the cause. The gi'eat Advocate is connected in the closest bonds of friendship with those for whom he appears ; he has his people's welfare at heart, and so identifies himself with them, as to consider their cause his own. Yes ! Christians, the heart of Christ in heaven is with his poor afflicted people on earth ; he enters deeply into their case, feels for their distresses, pities them in their sufferings, and is most solicitous for their welfare. " He that toucheth them, toucheth the apple of his eye." He carried the same heart with him to heaven, which he had on earth ; and on earth what interest did he take in their happiness, and 180 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. what amazing proofs did he give of the sincerity and strength of his love ! We wonder at the warmth of Moses' affection for his brethren, the children of Israel, and consider him as possessed of the true spirit of an advocate, when, making intercession with God for them, he professed his willingness to die for them. But our Advocate has gone further than Moses in his zeal. He did not merely request to die, that we might be forgiven ; he actually " died for us ;" and his death, which is the great proof of his love, is " the propitiation for our sins," on which, as we shall afterwards see, his advocate- ship is founded. With what warmth, with what earnestness and fervour then, must he plead our cause before the throne of God, who has given such evidence of interest in us and our concerns ! It is strange to think with what coldness and indifferency of manner, we often plead for our ourselves in our addresses to the throne. Our wingless prayers are unable to mount into the highest heavens, and bring back an olive branch, the token of peace. But Jesus Christ is more ardently our friend than we are our own, and with greater earnestness pleads our cause. Having such an Advocate, whose whole soul enters into our case, who feels while he pleads, is there not ground of hope, that our cause shall have a prosperous and happy issue ? 3. We have an Advocate with the Father who is fully acquainted with our case. There are cases, which, if the advocate had known all, he would perhaps not have under- taken ; and others, which, for want of his being in possession of the whole truth, fail in his hands. But our Advocate knows the worst of us. " He needeth not that any should testify to him of man, for he knows what is in man." Our ignorance is such, that we are but imperfectly acquainted with the " plagues of our own hearts," and the errors of our own conduct ; and our vicAvs of the nature of sin, and of the holi- ness and spirituality of the divine law, are so narrow and defective, that when most enliglitened, we see but very obscurely, the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the great THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 181 aggravations and peculiar enormity of our own transgressions. Besides, our self-partiality leads us to hide from our own eyes some of the evils which we have done, and to invent excuses, and apologies for others. Did our Advocate depend on us for a faithful repi'esentation of our case, and had he only to plead, if I may be allowed the expression, on such a brief as we put into his hands, our cause before the throne of the Father would for certain be irrecoverably lost. So many of our sins forgotten, and so many of our necessities never felt, and, therefore, not represented, so many misstatements of fact, such dishonest concealment, such frivolous apologies for what cannot be denied, and such propensity to exculpate our- selves by imputing blame to others, would provoke the Judge who sits on the throne, to whom all sin is hateful, and before whom all things are naked and open. But our Advocate knows all our case ; and he knows it to be very bad indeed. Nothing is hid from him that any of his people ever did ; and though it is our duty to state our case before him, it is not because he needs the information which we give. When he appears before the Father to plead for us, he is aAvare of every act of sin committed by us, and of every circumstance of criminality. And he states our case precisely as it stands, without attempt at concealment, disguising no fact, palHating no circumstance of guilt. Though we presume not to state particularly the mode of his intercession, a matter which is but in part revealed, yet the character, both of the Judge and of the Advocate, compels us to say, that his advocacy is con- ducted precisely according to the truth of the case. He succeeds in pleading for us, not by warding off the charges brought against us, not by setting up a plea of not guilty, not by an attempt to show, that while the facts are admitted, in our circumstances the criminality was small, but by admitting the charge in its frill extent, and pleading arrest of judgment, on grounds totally distinct from the guilt or innocence of the individual. Christ is not, cannot possibly be, an Advocate for sin. He is no less the enemy of sin than the Judge himself, 182 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. and condemns the sin, while he acts as the Advocate of the sinner ; pleading on just and honourable grounds his people's pardon, while their guilt is confessed. 4. We have an Advocate ■\\ath the Father loho is never inatten- tive to any particular ivhich concerns one of those for whom he acts. Christ is engaged in a multiplicity of other affairs great and important, besides this of advocating his people's cause when they have sinned. He receives the adoring homage of the countless multitudes who surround the throne. He presides in the worship of the upper sanctuary as its gi'eat minister ; a worship which is not interrupted day nor night, but is con- ducted -wathout Aveariness and continued •nnthout ceasing. He reigns as King in Zion; has its government on his shoulders, its numerous and weighty concerns are entirely devolved upon him; and conducts the whole administration of providence in subserviency to the welfare of his church. But multiplicity of business does not distract his attention or engross his time, so that he cannot take particular notice of the smaller concerns of indiAaduals. His divine perfections enable him to be occupied without embarrassment, and while he superintends the vast concerns of the universe, to pay minute attention to each individual's case. " He who numbereth the hosts of heaven and calleth them all by names," knows also every in- dividual in his feeble flock, and all that is peculiar to his case. Amidst the multitude who solicit his aid, and whose cases demand his immediate attention, an individual cannot be over- looked in the crowd. He has leisure and he has inclination to attend to all. Sentence cannot pass in court by default in absence of counsel against any individual of his people, and the weakest and meanest and most unworthy has equal ground to confide in his imremitting care as the greatest and best. "His eyes are over them" all, "his ears open to their cry," and they will find him " a very present help in trouble." His intercession, as I formerly stated, embraces as its object, all his people and all their concerns, and as he undertook the office, not induced by their merit, nor influenced by hope of reward THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 183 which they could give, he equally interests himself in their concerns, be they rich or poor, prosperous or in adversity, of great or of no consideration in the world or in the church. His people are daily sinning, but his intercession is constant and uninterrupted. It is as true at this moment, as when the apostle said it, that "he /zoiy appeareth in the presence of God for us ;" and his work will never cease while there is occasion for it, while his people are exposed to sin and need forgiveness, and are subject to infirmity, and need to have their wants supplied. " Wherefore, he is able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them." 5. We have an Advocate with the Father who enforces our plea with the most powerful and irresistible arguments. An inju- dicious advocate may injure his clients and lose his plea by not resting the cause on the proper grounds, by weak arguments, or solid arguments weakly and feebly urged. A case like ours apparently desperate, a case of acknowledged and aggravated guilt, requires an able advocate, and to be argued on strong and solid grounds. But what arguments can our Advocate employ in our defence ? It is admitted that we are guilty before God and deserve to die ; and what reasons can be pro- duced to show why sentence should not be passed against us .' Shall the case be rested on our character and former good conduct ? and our good deeds be brought forward as a foil to our evil ? This would go but a short way in a criminal pro- secution before men, and cannot at all be admitted at the bar of God. When we did good we only did what was our duty ; and the merit of the one cannot be supposed to be any com- pensation for the guilt of the other. Shall it be rested on our penitence, and our promises and resolutions of amendment ? Such pleas would not be sustained for the thief or the murderer before an earthly tribunal, much less before the tribunal of him who is the just and faithful God, and who has not only declared that " the wages of sin is death," but solemnly said, " the soul that sinneth, it shall die." The great Advocate, 184 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. knowing the futility of these arguments, takes another and more effectual method for our interests. He pleads that, though we are guilty, satisfaction has been made for our offences; that every demand of the law has been fully answered, and complete atonement made for the sins which those for whom he pleads have committed ; — made by himself when he suffered on the accursed tree, " the just for the unjust," fully made when he bowed his head on the cross, and cried with a loud voice, " It is finished," and gave up the ghost. On this ground our Advocate rests his plea in behalf of his people ; and pleading on the ground of atonement made by him in then- stead, his plea is solid, his argument strong and irresist- ible. If his atonement had been incomplete and unsatisfac- tory, his intercession would be fruitless and vain ; his argu- ment from it for his people's pardon and salvation would have no weight whatever in bar of the execution of justice on them as transgressors. But his atonement is perfect ; " he finished transgression;" he "put away sin by the saci'ifice of himself;" his " sacrifice and offering were for a sweet-smelling savour to God ;" and his plea on the ground of it, is what cannot be resisted. He asks the life of his people as the reward of his own merit ; he pleads a title in law, a claim on justice, on the ground that the sentence of the law has already been endured by him, as the surety in their stead, that justice has been satis- fied for their offences. As the priests under the law, when they made intercession for the people, entered the sanctuary -with the blood of the sacrifice, so our Intercessor entered heaven with his own blood. He appears before the great Judge in that nature in which he died ; he points to the wounds in his hands and his feet, the tokens of his former sufferings in his people's cause, and urges before the Father, virtually at least, the merit of his sacrifice, as the great argument to bestow gospel blessings on those for whom he purchased them. No wonder then if it follow, as I stated, "6. That we have an Advocate with the Father who uniformly prevails. We cannot suppose that such a plea, so forcibly urged, THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 185 can be disallowed. As it is said of him in the 21st Psalm, " the Lord gives him his heart's desire, and does not withhold the request of his lips." A petition unworthy of him to ask or of God to grant, is never presented by him, and therefore he meets with no refusal. What he asks for his people is ever fit and pro- per for Jehovah to give ; the grant of it is highly consistent with the attributes of Diety, and tends, not to the dishonour, but to the glory of the great Lawgiver and of the law. He who has no merit is pardoned for the merit of his Intercessor and Advocate. Believers in Jesus are not condemned, because their Advocate is Jesus Christ the righteous, who has " brought in an everlast- ing righteousness" for their justification, and whose righteous- ness is imputed to them as their protection against every law charge ; for he who intercedes for us, is also, as it is stated in the words which follow the text, " the propitiation for our sins." Such, then, is the Judge, such the criminals, and such their Advocate ; and reserving other practical uses of the subject for future consideration, let me at present conclude by calling your attention very briefly to the following things. Let us, first, reflect on our immense obligations to God for the mediation of Jesus Christ. Without him we could have had no access to God, no ground of confidence before him, no hope of salvation. We are guilty creatures; we are every day contract- ing fresh guilt; even in those services in which we profess to seek and worship him, the tokens of our infirmity are apparent; our imperfections cleave to us, and we add to our sins. How durst we cherish the hope that God would receive us, and not rather cast the dung of our sacrifices in our faces ? How pre- sume to flatter ourselves that the holy and just, the Judge of all, would accept of our persons or of our services, and not rather seize the rebels, and order them to be bound hand and foot, and cast into the fire? It is entirely owing to the mediation of Jesus Christ that we have ground to cherish hope. We look to him dying on earth and interceding in 'heaven, and therefore have hope. On the cross he made atonement, on the throne he makes 186 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. intercession ; and we know that his intercession is prevalent, because his atonement Avas perfect, and believe that " he is able to save to the uttermost, because he ever liveth to make inter- cession." By this we wUl be comforted ; in this we will triumph. " Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect ? It is God that justifieth. Wlio is he that condemneth ? It is Clirist that died ; yea, rather that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." Let us employ the Lord Jesus Christ as oui' Mediator, Inter- cessor, and Advocate with the Father. Let us never seek relief to our consciences, under the sense of guUt, in any other method, for other method there is none to secure peace and enjoy safety. "We have a cause pending before the tribunal of Heaven, a most momentous cause, which, if lost, aU is lost with us, and that for ever. We shall not be able to plead it our- selves ; for " every mouth will be stopped, and all the world become guilty before God." Nor can one in heaven or on earth be heard in our behalf besides Jesus Christ the righteous. If we commit our cause to Christ, all will be well ; we " shall have eternal life," but if not, we shall " not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on us." ADDRESS AT THE TABLE. The intercession of Christ, of which we have spoken, strictly speaking, began with his ascension, and terminates with the gathering together of his whole church into heaven. I say, strictly speaking, it began with his ascension; for he then entered into the presence of God as our Mediator and High Priest, carrying with him into the sanctuary the blood of his sacrifice, on the ground of which he pleads in our behalf. And it ends with the introduction of his church into the presence of God, and the happy settlement of the Avhole elect company in heaven ; for then the great ends of his advocacy will be gained, and the Saviour's prayers all answered in the complete salva- tion of his people. But, in a looser sense of the expression, it THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 187 began before his ascension, and will be continued after the consummation of all things. The same necessity that now exists for the intercession of Christ, will not continue when his people have reached in safety the place of their everlasting rest and joy ; they will no longer be either sinning or suffering, no longer experience either infirmity or want. But Christ's priesthood, of which his intercession is a branch, is called an everlasting priesthood, and the continuance of the office supposes the continuance, in some form, of the work which belongs to it. Does he continue a priest for ever ? and does he ever live to make intercession ? Then, he who is now our Advocate vnH for evermore be so ; his presence in heaven, his appearance there in our nature, and as he had been slain, will be an everlasting argument, a virtual and constant plea for the continuance of his people in their happy state. While he lives, there is reason to show why they should live also. In like manner, before our Lord's resurrection and ascension, he had not yet entered as our high priest into the holy place on high, nor offered the saci'ifice on the ground of wliich he pleads. Yet we find him acting as the friend, and patron, and advocate of his people, long before. "When on earth, yea, in the period before his incarnation, we find him interesting himself deeply in their affairs, and interceding with the Father in their behalf. In the earlier part of the history of God's people, it was not so much the prayers of Moses, the man of God, theu* typical mediator, as the powerful influence of the Angel of God's presence, that protected them against wrath to the uttermost. " In all then' affliction, he was afflicted, and the Angel of his presence saved them ; in his love and in his pity, he redeemed them, and he bare them and carried them all the days of old." So, likewise, we find their safety, in the later period of their history, proceeding from the same source. " The angel of the Lord, said, 0, Lord of Hosts, how long wilt thou not have mercy on Jerusalem, and on the cities of Judah ; and the Lord answered the angel with good words and comfortable words." Before the incarnation, believers were saved by virtue of the 188 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. great sacrifice that was to be offered, and God admitted a plea in their behalf on the gi'ouud of it. When he actually appeared, we have yet more distinct evidence of his intercession for his people. He was much employed in prayer, and for whom? Not for himself merely, that he might receive promised aid, when employed in his laborious work, but also for his people. When, for instance, he warned Peter of his danger, he informed him of the interest he took in his preservation from total apos- tacy ; " Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have thee, that he might sift thee as wheat, but I have prayed for thee that thy faith foil not." Even on the cross we hear him interceding for his murderers, and saying, " Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." And yet, further, what is the 17th chapter of John, but a solemn intercessory prayer for his people, a specimen of the prayers which he now presents on high, and the requests he makes for his people on earth ? All, let it be remembered, however, all his work of inter- cession, formerly on earth, and now in heaven, depends for its success on the death which he died. His pleading for us is a token of his good will; but it would have been no more than this, it could have had no efficacy to secure us the blessings we need, had he not made atonement by his blood. It is in virtue of this that, in a higher sense than Jacob his type, " as a Prince he hath power with God and prevails." His prayei's derive their force from his blood. His blood, shed for the remission of our sins, has a voice; a powerful voice it is; it is eloquent; it cries to God for mercy to the miserable, for pardon to the guilty ; it " speaketh better things than that of Abel." You must contemplate the two parts of his priesthood in conjunc- tion ; and when you think on his intercession, think on his sacrifice and atonement, Avhence its virtue proceeds. " For if, when we were enemies, we were I'econciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, shall we be saved by his life." To impress his death on our memories and hearts, he instituted this ordinance. " For I have re- ceived of the Lord, that which also I delivered unto you, that THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. 189 the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread," &c. O the blessedness of God's people in having an Advocate with the Father, who feels for us so deeply, and intercedes so powerfully, and so successfully in our behalf! Having him, we need no other. We ought to pray for ourselves, but our prayers will only be successful when presented in his name ; were he not to carry in our petitions, and lay them down before the throne of our Father, not one of them would be answered. " Whatsoever ye ask, ask," as he has bidden you, " in his name ; " commit your requests to his management, and expect, in due time, an answer in peace. And be not afraid to approach the throne of God in supplication. When you think of your own guilt, think of his merit ; of your own coldness, think of the warm interest that he takes in you. Our gi-eathigh priest is passed into the heavens ; he has taken his station before the throne ; he is there to receive our requests, and to present them with the much incense of his own intercession. " Let us draw near, therefore, with true hearts, in the full assurance of faith." " Let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find gi*ace to help us in time of need." Pray for others, employ others to pray for you ; it is a dutiful and a profitable exercise : " The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." But, think not that the prayers of others for you, supersede the necessity of prayers for your- selves. And still less allow yourselves to imagine that aU your own prayers, and the prayers of your brethren, will avail you aught, without the prayers of Jesus Christ. Our friends, when they pray, express their sympathy, their christian feeling, their charitable wishes. It is only the prayers of our great and good Friend on high, that can procure for us the good needed and asked. We have another intercessor besides Christ — the Spirit of God ; but his work interferes not in the smallest degree with the intercession of our blessed Lord. The Spirit intercedes in 190 THE ADVOCACY OF JESUS CHRIST. US, Christ /or us. The Spirit intercedes, by helping us to inter- cede for ourselves ; showing us our wants, stirring up our affec- tions, enabling us to pour out our hearts in prayer with faith and fervour. But while the Spirit thus intercedes in us, on earth, the Lord Jesus does so for us in heaven ; and by his influence procures that those prayers which, by the assistance of the Spirit, we present, shall be accepted and answered. Yea, the communication of the Spirit, as " the Spirit of grace and supplication," our enjoyment of the benefit of his assistance in our prayers and other duties, is one of the fi-uits of Christ's intercession for us on high. " I will pray the Father," he said, " and he will give you another Comforter." It was one of the first fruits of his intercession, that the Spirit was given, on the day of Pentecost ; and we look for his influence, to enlighten, to guide, to strengthen, to sanctify, to comfort, to establish us, all as the fruit of the powerful advocacy of our Lord. Let us then rejoice, because he hath gone to the Father. Let us look for all good from God's hand, for Christ's sake; and be encouraged to hope, that having him to befriend us, we shall have help in every difficulty, support under every trial, comfort amidst all discouragement, and salvation from all our sins. "We have an Advocate vidth the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous, and he is the propitiation for our sins." EXCELLENCE, ETC. OF THE WORD OF GOD. 191 IV. THE EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. 1 Peteb i. 24, 25.—" For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The gi-ass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away : But the word of the Lord endureth for ever. And this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you." The Bible, brethren, is recommended to our veneration and love by three considerations, among otliers : It is the best, the OLDEST, and the biost durable book in the world. I. It is, first, the best book in the world ; for it is, as the apostle denominates it in the text, " the word of the Lord." Other books are the word of men ; they are the expression of their mind ; they give us their sentiments on the particular subjects of which they profess to treat, and partake of the character of their authors, of imperfection, and liableness to err. Some of them were wi'itten by ignorant men, who did not understand the subjects on which they presumed to instruct others, and are calculated to mislead ; for, " if the blind lead the blind, both must fall into the ditch." Others were com- posed by bad men, who wrote them with a dishonest intention ; not to promote the benefit of mankind, but to obtain celebrity by the boldness of their sentiments, or to unsettle the principles, and corrupt the morals of their readers. Theu- talents, the gift of God, have been prostituted to the service of the devil ; and their elegance of composition or skill in reasoning, if they be eminent for either of these, what is it but what an apostle 192 EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND styles, " the sleight of men, and the cunning craftiness by which they lie in wait to deceive?" Even where the authors were good men, and wrote with the very best intention of instructing and improving mankind, as they knew but in part, and were liable to mistake, their sentiments cannot be im- plicitly received, nor their authority regarded as a sufficient reason for belief. But the Bible is not the work of men, who may through ignorance mistake, or through wickedness intentionally mislead. It has for its author the great God, him whose imderstanding is infinite, and whose goodness is unbounded, who, as he is too wise to be himself deceived, is too holy to mislead others. The men who wrote the various parts of Scripture, though they were good, were, I acknow- ledge, imperfect men ; but in writing it, they were not left to the guidance of their own judgment, either in the choice of the matter, or in the manner of their expression. " The prophecy," as Peter tells us, " came not of old time by the will of man ; but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." The subject is important, and universally and perpetually interesting ; for they speak to us of matters which concern the soul and eternity ; inform us of our origin and our destiny, and instruct us in the art of living well and dying happy. When we read other books, we must read with caution, and exercise our faculties, not only to ascertain the meaning, but to judge of the truth and rectitude of the authors' sentiments ; but we may open our Bibles with the utmost con- fidence, and peruse their contents with the fiiUest persuasion, both of the high importance, and of the infallible truth of every doctrine they teach, and every narrative they give. It is our God that speaks to us in this book. He speaks to us of him- self, and of his works ; reveals his purposes and his promises of grace ; addresses us on subjects which deeply concern us as guilty, but immortal creatures ; shows us how, and how only, we may escape the damnation we deserve, and enjoy inexpres- sible and everlasting felicity. And what he says is faithful and worthy of all acceptation. " The words of the Lord are DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. 193 pure words, like silver tried in a furnace of fire, purified seven times." " All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruc- tion in righteousness." II. The Bible is not only, as we have seen, the best, it is the OLDEST book in the world. Its very antiquity makes it venerable. The whole volume of Scripture was not given to the Church at once in that complete form, in which it is our privilege to enjoy it. " God spake at sundry times," as well as in "divers manners, unto the fathers by the prophets;" and, though the Scriptures speak throughout the same language, and reveal the same way of salvation, a period of no less than sixteen hundred years intervened from the time that the Lord spake by Moses, till his Spirit inspired the apostle John to wi"ite the Revelations, which close the sacred volume. Few books now remain, which are as ancient even as the New Testament. " As the grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away," so the greater part of the writings of the learned of ancient times, by which they fondly hoped to earn for them- selves immortal fame, have perished, and the memory and the very names of the writers are long since forgotten. But if we go to the beginning of the Bible, there is no book of any kind to be found so old, by several centuries of years, as the five books of Moses, and the book of Job. Nor does its great age lessen the value of Scripture. Its divine authority is the same as ever. Its truths are as important and as necessary to be believed as ever they were in ancient times. And the faith of it is equally calculated to comfort the hearts, and regulate the lives of men. A Christian will prefer this venerable' volume unspeakably to those more modern books, which derive a temporary importance from the fashion of the day, but which have less authority and less substantial worth. " He desires not the new wine," for he says, " the old is better." It is proper, however, here to add, that there is a sense in I 194 EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND which the word of the Lord is more ancient than any part of the Bible, old as it is. The word of the Lord must be con- sidered in two points of view, as written and as spoken : as written in the Bible, and as spoken in the dispensation of the gospel. It is particularly in this second view of it, that the apostle speaks of it in the text, for he explains the phrase, " the word of the Lord," as meant by him, of that word " which in the gospel is spoken unto us." The gospel is no new doctrine. Those great truths of religion, which it has pleased God to reveal, respecting Christ and the salvation of perishing sinners through faith in his name, were communi- cated in substance, I say not, long before the apostles and evangelists wrote the New Testament, but long before Moses and the prophets wrote the books of the Old. The world existed more than two thousand years before one line of the Bible was written. The good men who lived before the flood, Adam and Enoch, and Noah, and the rest ; and the good men who lived during several ages after the flood, Shem and Mel- chezidec and Job, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph, had no Bible. Yet they had the word of the Lord. The gospel, says Paul, was preached unto Abraham. God spake unto the ancients, revealing, though more obscui'ely than to us, his jjurpose of grace, giving them promises of a Saviour, and instructing them in the way of salvation. By visions, by dreams, by peculiar manifestations, the word of the Lord came unto them ; that same word which we now read in the Bible, and which in the gospel is preached unto us. Yea, man had not been many hours a sinner before the word of the Lord came unto Adam and Eve, not only convincing them of sin, but directing them to the Saviour whom his grace had provided, and to salvation through his name. So early did " the love and kindness of God our Saviour towards man appear ;" so ancient is the Bible, and so much more ancient still the word of the Lord, the gospel, which it reveals. III. The Bible, this best and most ancient of books, is also the DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. 195 MOST DURABLE and lasting book in the world : — the only book of which we have assurance that it will continue to exist, to be read, and to be believed to the end of time. It has already continued to exist, as we have seen for a very long while, and it will continue to exist as long as the world lasts. ^Tiat else has continued so long ? The apostle in the text contrasts the durability of the word of the Lord with the frailty of man, the shortness of human life, and the transitory nature of all earthly things. " All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man," — the things on which he is apt to value himself or to be valued by others, "as the flower of grass; the gi-asswithereth, the flower thereof falleth away ; but the word of the Lord endureth for ever." How often since the word of the Lord was first revealed, and the Spirit of God inspired men to commit it to writing, has the earth been swept of its inhabitants, and peopled by new generations ? See how luxuriantly the grass springs up in our fields, cherished by the genial influence of the sun, the rain, and the dew. It is cut down, perhaps, before it is fully grown, by the scythe of the mower, or if he should spare it, vsdnter comes, and it withereth away. See how the flowers unfold their beauty, and deck the garden or the meadows by their variegated tints. In their prime they are cropped by the hand of man, or if not, in a few days they droop their heads and are gone. An emblem these of man. Our breath is in our nostrils, and we are nothing to be accounted of We are soon cut off, and where are we ? In the morning of youth we are like grass that groweth up. " In the morning it flourisheth and groweth up ; in the evening it is cut down and withered." The chilly evening of age withers our beauty, enfeebles our strength, and prepares us for the grave. Yea, before the evening of age arrives, man is often removed from his place, wasted by slow disease, cut off by accident, or slain by the sword. But the word of the Lord is by time indestruc- tible, by accident imperishable. Where are the patriarchs to whom in ancient times the word of the Lord came, and the holy men, whose honourable office it was to commit to writing, or to explain its doctrines to their fellow sinners by preaching? 196 EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND " The fathers where are they, and the prophets do they live for ever? " They are gone. " Moses my sei-vant," said God, " is dead." " The prayers ofDavid the son of Jesse are ended;" the harp of that sweet singer of Israel with which he praised God in the midst of the congregation, is unstrung. Prophets, apostles, and their persecutors have long since disappeared, and the place that knew them knowetli them no more. Yea, all the great men that flourished in former times, who excited the admiration of the world by the extent of their knowledge, the vigour of their genius, or the splendour of their achievements, are silent, and many of them forgotten in the dust. But the word of the Lord has continued amidst the vicissitudes of the world, and as saith Peter in the text, " endureth for ever." It par- takes of the character of its great author, and principal subject, and like him, liveth and abideth for ever. But how, in what sense, does the word of the Lord endure for ever? In four respects it may justly be said that it endureth for ever. The book that contains it, will continue to exist till the end of time ; it will never cease to be preached ; its efficacy will continue undiminished ; and its effects on those who read or hear it, will be everlasting. 1. The Bible, the book which contains the word of the Lord, vnll continue to exist, to be read, and to be believed, till the end of time. If it had been possible to destroy the Bible, and thus extinguish this light, which God in his mercy has given to illuminate this dark world, it would have been done many ages since. That there is at this moment a copy of the Holy Scrip- tures in existence, is matter of wonder ; for they have been exposed to more than the ordinary accidents by which many ancient writings have perished. What through the indiffer- ence and cai'clessness of men who have yet professed to regard it as the word of God, and the charter of their salvation, and what through the arts and the violence of its open enemies, this blessed book has often been in jeopardy. The history of its narrow escapes and wonderful preservation, had I leisure to detail them, is instructive. In the reign of Josiah, kingof Judah, DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. 197 a solitary copy was found lying neglected in a corner of the temple, and fi'om the manner in which the hearing it read affected the king, it appears that that young saint had never had opportunity to hear it read before. In the reign of the Roman emperor Diocletian, that enemy of Christ ordered copies of the Scriptures to be searched for and publicly burnt, and rewards were even bestowed on such apostates as should deliver up their Bibles, and on all that should be particularly active in destroying them. In some subsequent ages, a cloud of gi'oss darkness covered the world and the church ; few could read, and fewer still could wi'ite ; and besides, the ministers of religion in those days, strangers to the value of the Scriptures themselves, not only did not encourage but even forbade the reading of that book which is " able to make men wise unto salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus;" and of consequence it was thrown aside as useless. Yet, through the superintending care of divine providence, it has sur^^ved all these dangers, and notwithstanding the ignorance and the negligence of some, and the violent hostility of others, it remains to the present day, to " give us knowledge of salva- tion," and " to guide our feet in the way of peace." The experience of the past, affords encouragement with re- gard to the future. Humanly speaking, the dangers of the Bible are greatly diminished, and we may confidently hope that even without the aid of miracle, it will continue till the end of time. Before the invention of printing, it was a work of great labour to transcribe vnth. the pen a single copy of the Bible, and few could be expected to be able to purchase what could be procured only at great expense ; but now copies are multi- plied with comparative ease, and sold at a price within the reach of the greater part. Nor is this all. It is now translated into so many languages, and spread over so great a portion of the world, and is, besides, every day, through the benevolent labours of individuals andsocieties, translating into so many addi- tional languages, and circulating through somany other countries, which had either not enjoyed, or in a very scanty measure, the 108 EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND benefit of the word of God, that it seems next to impossible that the Bible should now perish. Attend to the signs of the times. Can it be supposed, that when more than a hundred Bible Societies are at work in America, six hundred actively employed in Britain, and new Societies daily starting up in the Continent of Europe, in Asia and Africa, whose object is to print and to circulate the word of God ? can it be supposed that when emperors, kings, nobles and peasants are taking counsel together in behalf of the Lord and his Anointed ; when large editions are throwing off in at least sixty different languages, into many of which the Scriptures were never till of late translated ; and when they are now read by multitudes that never before had heard the fame or seen the glory of Jesus — can it, I say, be supposed, that it is the intention of Providence to suffer the Scriptures to perish ? One nation may turn lukewarm, another infidel, a third may be desolated by famine, or pestilence, or the sword ; but the existence of the Scriptures depends not now on the care of any one people, or on their ability to watch over this sacred book. The seed is scattered vsddely over the face of the earth, and has taken root in every latitude ; and whatever calamities may befall particular countries, we may expect that it ivill continue to grow and multiply in the earth. The providence of God will watch over his own words ; he will employ us, and the societies with which we are connected, or if we should die, or what is worse, become weary in well-doing, he will employ others, as agents under him, in scattering his word yet more widely and abundantly among the nations, and carry on the work which has been so prosperously begun, till all the nations of men shall be able to read in their own tongues, the wonderful works of God, and till " the earth shall be filled -with the knoAvledge of the Lord as the waters cover the seas." 2. The word of the Lord tvill never cease to be preached. What were the Bible, if there were no living instructor to explain its doctrines, and recommend them to the attention, the faith, and the practice of mankind ? There is reason to fear. DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. 199 that the book would, in most instances, be a dead and improlit- able letter; excite little attention, be little read, and less understood. Though God often blesses the reading of the Scriptures for saving benefit to sinful men, especially where other means are not enjoyed, and where, as the prophet Amos expresses it, " there is a flxmine of hearing the word of the Lord ;" yet God has mstituted the preaching of the gospel, as the ordinary means of convincing and converting sinners, and of " building them up in holmess and comfort, through faith unto salvation," Accordingly, as long as there has been a written, there has been a preached word. In ancient times, the priest's lips taught knowledge, and the people learned the law at his mouth. God raised up a succession of prophets to instruct the people, giving them through then- ministrations, " precept upon precept, line upon line, here a little and there a little." At length Christ appeared, the great preacher of his own gospel ; and when he was about to leave the world and go to the Father, gave commission to his apostles to go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature From that time to the present, the word of the Lord has never ceased to be preached. The apostles died, almost all of them cut off for their fidelity in refusing to desist from teaching and preaching the Lord Jesus. But God raised up and endowed others to proclaim the same gospel to their perishing brethren : and in every age, " it has pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe." And so it will be to the end. Faithful ministers may die, but Christ lives, and he will send forth other labourers into his vineyard. Though a Paul should be "bound with a chain," "the word of the Lord is not bound ; " though he should die, another Timothy will be raised up to fill his place, and carry on his work. The Lord Jesus, having the same care for his church, and the same fulness of grace, as in time past, will see to it, that the ordi- nary means shall never be awanting for planting his gospel in the waste places, and watering what is already planted. Men shall be raised up qualified for publishing his word, and willing 200 EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND to take part in the ministry ; ready to spend and be spent for the souls of men, and " not counting their lives dear unto them- selves, so that they may finish their course with joy, and the ministry which they have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God." A spot in God's earth shall not continue always uncultivated, for want of persons Avilling to labour in that part of the vineyard. The same Spirit which has led some to proclaim the Word of the Lord on the frozen shores of Greenland, and others on the burning sands of Africa, will raise up others who shall, endowed with a truly missionary spirit, comit no country too distant, no clime too inhospitable, where they may be useful in proclaiming the glory of the Saviour, and rescuing sinners from the snare of the devil. Thus we hope, and on no uncertain grounds, on the gi-ound of the power, the grace, the promise of God, that the gospel vdU continue "to have free course, and be glorified;" that the gospel will continue to be preached to generations yet unborn, and to races of men yet sunk in ignorance, superstition and vice ; preached, perhaps, with more ability and zeal, certainly more universally, and with greater success ; and that the Avoi'k of preaching Christ to perishing sinners will never cease, till it be laid aside for the nobler, more delightful and everlasting business of praise. 3. The efficacy of the Word of God for the conversion and salvation of sinful men will continue undiminished. The Avord, whether read in the Bible, or heard in the preaching of the gospel, does not profit unless mixed with faith. It may give us new notions, but it is only when it is believed, that it is the means of producing a new heart, and of leading men to attend to the things which belong to their peace. It is when ])elieved, that it becomes a seed springing up, and bringing forth fruit unto eternal life. It Avas thus that, through the blessing of God, it became efficacious in the apostle Peter's time ; men Avere born, as he speaks in the 23d verse, " not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the Avord of God, Avhich liveth and abideth for ever." And the efficacy which it DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. 20l then had, it still has, and will continue to have till the end of time. The word of God can do what the word of man is unable to effect. It can humble the proud sinner, rouse the conscience of the most obdurate, enlighten the blind, sanctify the unclean, and raise up, and comfort the trembling and discouraged soul. When the Spirit of God sends it home with power on the heart, Avhat changes will it not produce ! converting the soul, en- lightening the eyes, sanctifying the affections, and new modell- ing the life. The virtue which it formerly had is not, and cannot be lost. It would cease to be preached to the nations, if the influence of the Spirit were no longer to continue to accompany it ; for it could do no good, and God would not continue means which he was no longer to bless. It is still the appointed means of grace and salvation ; is not only equally true, and equally suitable to the condition and circumstances of fallen creatures, but equally capable of " tm'ning them fi'om darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God." See what efficacy it still has. I speak not of the multitudes in our own country, who have felt it to be " the power of God unto salvation." See with what power it works in other lands ; raising the almost brutal Hottentots to the dignity of men, and of Chi'istians ; gaining over the sable effeminate borderers on the Ganges, to renounce their caste, that bond by which Satan held them chained to his service, and teaching them nobly to dare to forsake all to foUow Christ ; yea, captivating the hearts of the sensual inhabitants of the islands of the South Seas, causing them, in crowds, to abandon their idols and their \aces, and give themselves to the Lord. And there is no mind, so blind, which it cannot enlighten, no heart so impenetrable, which it cannot open, none so devoted to the service of sin, which it cannot subdue to the obedience of faith. Having the sanction of his authority, his blessing will follow it to the end of time, till the Jew abandon his prejudices, and submit to the sceptre of Jesus, the Messiah ; till the Gentiles, in the remotest parts, " come to his light, and kings to the brightness of his rising;" till all the nations " cast their idols to the moles and 202 EXCELLENCE, ANTIQUITY, AND to the bats," and " remember, and turn to the Lord." O what an encouragement does this afford, to read the Scriptures often, and seriously, and with prayer, for the attendant influence of the Spirit ! "What encouragement for us to persevere in preaching the Word, and you to attend on a faithful gospel ministry, seeing " the residue of the Spirit is with God," and he has promised to send him, like " the former, and the latter, rain upon the earth ! " And what encouragement to contribute our endeavours, by aiding Bible Societies and Missionary So- cieties, to circulate the Scriptures ; and send faithful men to explain their doctrines to perishing sinners in the remotest parts ! We labour not in vain. The seed sown may lie a while under the clod, but it will not all die. Our labour is performed " in hope," a hope that will not make ashamed. In the morning let us " sow our seed, and in the evening not with- hold our hand, for we know not which shall prosper, whether this or that, or whether both shall be alike good." For thus, saith the Lord, " As the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither ; but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth, and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater ; so shall my word be that proceedeth forth out of my mouth ; it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." 4. The effects of the word of the Lord on those ivlio read or hear it ivill be everlasting. The business is not done when we close the book after reading a chapter of the Bible, or return to our homes after hearing a sermon. Our reading and hearing have effects which reach to eternity ; a most happy effect on those who believe the word ; a most melancholy and awful effect on those who reject it. The gospel becomes to some " a savour of life unto life," and to others " a savour of death unto death." If it be to us without profit, it leaves us not in the condition in which it found us ; it leaves us in a state unspeakably worse, with the guilt of unbelief, impenitence, and disobedience, the guilt of refusing the Saviour, rejecting the great salvation, of DURABLENESS OF THE WORD OF GOD. 203 perishing in sin notmthstanding the invitations of mercy, and of resolving on our own ruin. And tliese effects will be ever- lasting. If we continue to live thus, and die thus, it will be found by us in awful experience, that " the word of the Lord endureth for ever." Our souls will be eternally, irretrievably lost ; for " how can we escape if we neglect so great a salva- tion ?" It will continue an eternal truth, that he that sinneth against Christ, " wrongeth his own soul," and that all they that hate and reject him, " love death." In like manner the blessed effects of the word endure for ever. A man who reads and believes his bible, who hears, and by faith receives the gospel, shall have reason to bless God through eternity for the benefit. When the word enters his heart with divine power, it leads him to a Saviour who can save him to the uttermost, and will never abandon the soul that trusteth in him. It produceth a new life in him which shall never die. The word of the Lord liveth and abideth for ever in the soul into which it has once entered by divine power, and becomes the happy means of conveying to him all the blessings of salvation, grace, and glory, present comfort, and future and everlasting joy. Happy the man who has received it by faith ! He will find the pleasures of religion not only sweet but lasting : his soul now animated by hope, and blessed hereafter with the full fruition of that salvation which the gospel reveals. Happy the people to whom the word of the Lord comes, who have the Bible and can read it, who have the gospel, and are permitted to hear it : Great their privilege. The lines have fallen to them in pleasant places. They enjoy advantages of the most solid and substantial kind. 0 that all such knew the value of what they enjoy, and were enabled to improve their advantages for eternity : that their souls may be given them as a prey, and admitted to those joys which are at God's right hand ! If you know and believe the gospel, you will, I am persuaded, not only value the Bible and read it, esteem the dispensation of grace, and wait upon the ministry of the word, but you will 204 EXCELLENCE, ETC. OF THE WORD OF GOD. be eager that others enjoy the same benefit, and profit by it. You will be the friend and encourager of such societies as have it for their object to make mankind acquainted with the words of eternal life. You will aid them by your prayers, and your contributions : encourage and stimulate others to aid them, and rejoice in every information which conveys the assurance, tliat their labours are not in vain. NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. '205 V. NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. John xix. 25.— Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. The multitude collected around the cross of Jesus, Avhen he was suspended on it in agony, was immense, and the motives which brought them together to witness such a scene, were as different as were their characters. Tlie soldiers were there merely in obedience to the order of their superiors, to assist in the execution, and to preserve order. The great body of the populace had crowded to the place, as is common, fi-om a prin- ciple of curiosity, and in greater numbers than usual, to witness the dying behaviour of a person whose character, doctrine, and miracles had, for several years, occupied a great share of the public attention, and concerning whom, the opinion of the world was gi'eatly divided. The chief priests and leading men in church and state, were scarcely to be expected to have been voluntarily present at such a scene, and in a manner unsuit- able to their station, and the supposed gi'avity of their charac- ter, to mingle with the rabble at a public execution ; yet they too felt an interest that induced them to forget their dignity, and hurried to Calvary, impelled by a malignant eagerness to witness the death of one whom they hated and dreaded, and to enjoy the savage pleasure of exulting over him in his last sufferings. Amidst this motley assemblage of soldiers and priests, Jews and heathens, rulers and people, the eye can scarcely discover a single friend, one who loved Jesus' person, revered his character, or was attached to his cause ; all seem 206 NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. to be either indifferent spectators, or determined enemies. As for his friends, when " the Shepherd was smitten, the sheep were scattered." His disciples, intimidated by the violence of his persecutors, and afraid for themselves, had forsaken him and fled ; and a number of his female followers, whose warmer hearts would not suffer them utterly to abandon him, could only venture to take a distant station, and gaze fi-om afar on the affecting scene. Yet a few individuals were found possessed of more love or of more courage than the rest, who dai*ed to approach, to mingle with the multitude, to take their station as near as possible to the foot of the cross, and to run every risk that they might testify their unalterable affection, catch the gracious words that might fall from his dying lips, and witness the tragical but edifying scene of the death of their Saviour and Lord, Their conduct is recorded in the text by the Spirit of inspiration, to their eternal honour, and for our " instruc- tion in righteousness;" and will, I trust, suggest to us useful matter of meditation this day, when we propose to take our station, in spirit, by the foot of the cross, and contemplate, in the ordinpnce of the supper, " Jesus Christ evidently set forth before us crucified and slain." I shall, first, offer a few remarks concerning those friends of Jesus who stood by his cross ; and then lay before you the INSTRUCTIONS which their station there is calculated to convey. I. The only persons friendly to the dying Saviour to be found among the vast multitude which encompassed his cross, were four individuals, persons of no consideration among men. but great in the sight of the Lord : three women, all of them of the name of Mary, and a young man of the name of John, who seems to have accompanied them as their guide and protector. To the honour of the sex be it spoken, women are frequently introduced to our notice in the evangelical history, and they are always mentioned with honour. "Women were, in the days of his flesh, Jesus' most stedfast friends, and most ardent admirers. !Many of them travelled to a distance to be edified NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. 207 by his doctrine and conversation, entertained him hospitably in their houses, and " ministered of their substance" to his neces- sities : And now, when his character and credit were at the lowest ebb, and when his chosen disciples had meanly forsaken him, a multitude of this sex, who had followed him from Galilee, discovei-ed the stedfastness of their attachment, by lingering after others fled, and waiting at a distance to learn the issue of his sufferings : while the three Marys ventured nearer, and clave to him in death. Of these three women, some interesting particulars are known by all who are familiar with the New Testament. The first Mary was honoured above all Avomen, by being the mother of our Lord ; and was the subject of one of the most astonishing of miracles, when " the Holy Ghost came upon her, and the power of the Highest overshadowed her, and that holy thing was conceived" in her womb, and afterwards born of her, which has been " called the Son of God." The second Mary was honourably distinguished on three accounts ; as the sister of the mother of our Lord ; a relationship more honour- able than nobility ; as the wife of Cleophas, a good man, a believer in Christ, and one of the two disciples who enjoyed the delightful and truly edifying conversation with the newly risen Kedeemer on the way to Emmaus ; and as the mother of four eminent Christians, three of whom were apostles of the Lord, James, and Joses, and Simon Zelotes, and Judas not Iscariot. The third Mary, denominated Magdalene, from the place of her birth, is not less distinguished for the eminent miracle wrought on her, for out of her Jesus cast seven devils, and for the many affecting tokens she gave of the depth of her penitence, the warmth of her gratitude, and the ardour of her affection to her great Deliverer. All the three are truly interesting char- acters ; names that will live in the affectionate remembrance of Christians to the end of time, and that will shine as stars in the firmament of heaven for ever and ever : bright examples of eminent female piety, and models worthy the imitation of christian women in every age, for faith and love to the Saviour, 20S NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. and activity in good works. Among the three, Mary, the mother of our Lord, is beyond all question the most honourable, more " highly favoured of the Lord," and Avhom " all genera- tions shall call blessed." Highly, however, as this woman was honoured of God, and venerable as her character truly is, let us not, like the votaries of the coiTupt Church of Rome, con- ceive of her as if she were a goddess, the object of worship, free from sin herself, and able by her influence in heaven, to save those who gain her favour, and employ her media- tion. Though the mother of Jesus according to the flesh, she was a sinful woman. Listead of being able to save others by her merits and intercession, she needed as much as they salvation through his righteousness and grace ; and noAV, instead of being pleased with the homage of those who transfer to her the worship that is due to her Son and Lord, she joins the happy multitude who ascribe all the glory of their salvation " to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever." It was her peculiar privilege indeed, to be the mother of our Lord, but it was her higher honour, and more eminent felicity, a blessedness enjoyed by her in common with the other two Marys, and with all genuine Christians, that she was the object of distinguishing and sovereign mercy, and the subject of a Avork of saving grace. " Blessed," said a certain woman of old to Jesus, " is the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou has sucked ;" " Yea rather," said he in reply, " blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep it." So much for the three Marys who stood during the cruci- fixion by the cross. I mentioned a young man of the name of John, who was in their company, and seems to have attended them as their protector. This young man was the apostle John, whose words are the subject of discourse, and Avho, though he takes no notice of the circumstance of his presence in the text, informs us of it, in his own modest manner, in the subsequent verse. Of him, I shall only remark two things at present : that he was the youngest man among the twelve NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. 209 disciples of the Lord, and that he was distinguished above the rest, by a peculiar share of his Master's affection, — " the disciple whom Jesus loved." This last circumstance, which refers not to his special love to John, as the Son of God and the Saviour, in which the eleven and all believers equally have an interest, but to the warmth of human affection which the man Christ Jesus felt to John above his fellows, leads us to conceive very favourably, both of his natural dispositions and gracious attainments, as mild, amiable, affectionate, and en- gaging ; and not only a truly sincere, but a warm-hearted, and strongly attached follower of the Lord Jesus. His writings, and all that is recorded of him, justify this character ; and this in particular, that though the youngest of the twelve, his conduct during Christ's sufferings, exposes to shame that of his older brethren. He alone witnessed the last awful scene. He would not, like the rest, abandon his Master in his extremity, and willingly exposed himself to insult, and to personal hazard for his sake. His presence at the foot of the cross, in company with the three Marys, is at once honourable to himself, and profitable to us. It eminently became one so peculiarly distinguished by his Master's affection, to give such proof of attachment in return ; and it has been of singular benefit to the church, by enabling him to furnish us with edifying details of the interesting events of that day, of which othervdse we might not have been informed. n. Let me now, however, proceed, as I proposed, in the second place, to lay before you the instructions which the station of these four pious persons by the cross of Jesus, is calculated to convey. And, 1 . Their standing by the cross of Jesus, leads us to reflect on the exquisite anguish they must have felt at the sight which they beheld. An ordinary execution, even when we are strangers to the sufferer, and are besides persuaded that he is only suffering the just punishment of his crimes, must to a rightly constituted mind, be a painful sight. It must be so 210 NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. shocking to the female feelings in particular, tliat no woman, who is not grossly deficient of that delicacy and sensibility, which are the ornament of the sex, can be supposed to choose, from curiosity, or for any but the most weighty reasons, to witness it. But such an execution as this, — crucifixion, where the hands and feet are pierced through with nails, where the blood flows copiously, where the sufferer is exposed naked, where the members are torn by the weight of the sus- pended body, and the most excruciating pain endured for hours together, — could not have been beheld by these good women, in the case even of a stranger, without exquisite pain. In the present case, it was no stranger whom they beheld writhing in the agonies of death. It was the son of the first, the nephew of the second, the benefactor of the third, the companion and much valued friend of the fourth. It was no criminal whom they saw suffering, the just punishment of his crimes ; it was one who deserved a better fate ; who more than any other had ever led an inoffensive and useful life ; who had been an eminent example of all that is just and kind and pious ; it was the instructor of the ignorant, the friend of the poor, the physician of the deceased, the glory of human nature, the greatest benefactor of mankind. This was he, and these women knew that he was all this, and unspeakably more ; this was he whom they saw suffering, as if he had been the vilest and basest of mortals. From their station by the cross, they heard the rude insults of the heathen soldiers, the curses and profane taunts of the surrounding rabble, the blasphemies of the priests and rulers. They saw the blood flow from his sacred body ; they observed, notwithstanding the admirable patience which he exercised, in the convulsive motions of his members, the evident symptoms of the extreme pain he endured ; they heard his loud and bitter cry, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me." They saw him bow Ins head and die. And can it be conceived that they did not suffer unutterable distress ? The condition of his mother is particularly to be noticed. NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. 211 While she was yet young, the anguish of this hour was pre- dicted to her. When the aged Simeon held the infant Saviour in his arms, and rejoiced in his salvation, he looked forward in spirit to the events of this day, and turning to Mary, said, "Yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also." The words of Simeon had an awful commentary and fulfil- ment in the anguish she noAV endured. Let mothers judge of her case. To see a son dying, enduring such a death ; and such a son ! a child foretold by prophets, announced by angels, the delight of her heart, the hope of Israel, and the expected Saviour thereof! all goodness, excellency, and per- fection ! who, the better he was known, must have been the more admired and loved ; the glory of her house, the consolation of her age ! to see such a son, suffer such a death, how overwhelming ! It is very remarkable that, in the account given of the pre- sence of these females near the cross, and particularly of Mary, his mother, it is said, they " stood by the cross," and perhaps for hours together. Their grief though extreme, was silent; not noisy and clamorous, like that of the multitude of women who followed him through the streets of Jerusalem, from the judgment-hall to the place of execution. There was here no beating of the breast, no rending of the garments, no wi'inging of the hands, no tearing of the hair. Their feelings, though beyond expression painful, were kept within bounds. They di'opped not down ; they fainted not away ; they were enabled to support their distress, and continue to stand, to exercise their faculties, and witness the end. Mary, in particular, to use the expression of one, " feels as a mother, she endures as a Christian ; and, submitting to the mysterious designs of Providence, suffers with all the dignity of an angel." Could nature have enabled them to act thus? Must we not ascribe it to the efficacy of divine grace, that they were thus supported, and mark it down as a glorious illustration of the truth of the promise, " As thy day is, so shall thy strength be? " Let mothers who are called to part with beloved children, in circumstances 212 NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. particularly painful, say, What ! can my affliction be compared to hers ? And let them look to that gi-ace which was sufficient for her, to aid, and suppoi't, and comfort them. 2. Their station by the cross of Jesus exhibits a strong proof of their heroic courage. I speak not merely of the courage that made them resolve on witnessing a scene which they could not be ignorant would do extreme violence to their feelings, but of the courage that led them to despise all personal danger, and to go where they had reason to expect every species of bad usage. It was, at least, a degree of courage w^hich the disciples of Jesus did not possess. They took alarm the moment their Master was apprehended ; and not fi'om indifference to his fate, but under the influence of a panic fear for their personal safety, " for- sook him and fled." And though theii* apprehension of danger could not justify their cowardly conduct, yet their apprehen- sions were not altogether imaginery. A pui'pose had been formed by the Jewish rulers, to crush at once the new religion, which they perceived, if it should prevail, would be fatal to their credit, and to their worldly interest; and, though they began by seizing the leader, it might be expected that they would not stop there, but lay hold on his principal adherents and friends. Besides, the populace had been instigated by the ruling men to execrate Jesus, whom they had lately followed and admired, and clamorously to demand his crucifixion ; and it is natural to suppose that, while in this temper, although the rulers should have overlooked them, his friends and followers would, if recognised by the infuriated mob, have been exposed to the rudest insults, and to the greatest danger of their life. We admire, therefore, in these circumstances, the manly heroism of John, who, while his elder brethren fled, Avent openly into the high priest's hall, during his Master's trial, especially when, as he tells us himself, he was personally known to the high priest. We admire it the more, Avhen we place his conduct in contrast vnth that of Peter, the oldest man among the disciples, and the most forward, who had boasted, an hour or two before, of his inviolable attachment, and deter- NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. 213 mined resolution, but who now skulked at the door without, not having courage to enter, and who, when admitted through John's influence, shrunk at the challenge of a servant maid, and basely denied his Master, Avith oaths and imprecations. We admire his courage still more, when we find him standing at the foot of the cross, in the thickest of the crowd of Jesus' enemies. But most of all, we admire the heroic courage of these three timid females, who placed themselves, and de- liberately stood for hours, in so perilous a spot. Say not they had the hope of standing there unheeded and unknown. They could have no certainty that such near relations, and known adherents of the hated Jesus, should not be recognised at once, and some part of the fury of the people turned immediately against them. Besides, how could they hope that nothing in their looks or manner should betray them? That no invo- luntary start, or shudder, or scream of horror at what passed, should proclaim their relation to, and interest in, the object of the people's fury. Yet they brave danger, and show by their conduct the power of grace to raise persons above themselves in the hour of trial, and to enable them to do and to endure, without fainting, what mere unaided nature could not sustain. What is there, indeed, so hard that grace cannot enable us to endure? Or who so feeble that it cannot make strong? Timid women have often, by its powerful aids, been enabled to face the greatest dangers without dismay, and to suffer the greatest pains without fainting. AVhen duty calls, we are to calculate, not on our own strength, but on the gi-ace that is in Christ Jesus. Instead of fixing our eyes on the danger, the suffering, we are to fix them on the promise of Him " who giveth power to the faint, and to them who have no might increaseth strength;" who has often, in the hour of trial, " made the feeble among his people as David, and the house of David as the angel of the Lord." For this is his promise, " My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness." 3. Their station by the cross of Jesus furnishes a demomtra- tion of the strength of their love to him that hung on it. What 214 NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. gave tliem the high degree of courage of which Ave have been speaking under the former particular? Avhat made them, insensible to danger, or indifferent to it, press through the crowd, and place themselves as near as possible to the foot of the cross ? It was love ; the ardour of affection to the great and innocent sufferer. I speak not merely of the natural affection which warmed the hearts of the mother, the aunt, and the intimate friends of the sufferer ; but of their spu'itual affection, that heaven-born passion of love to the Saviour which glows in every breast that knows his Avorth, and has experienced his grace. Natural affection is a powerful prin- ciple, especially in a mother's breast. It leads her, fearlessly, to run every risk, without murmuring to submit to every toil, for the sake of a beloved child : and though in the article of death her efforts can give no aid, and though the sight of her child's sufferings gives her indescribable pain, yet affection nails her to the spot, and will not suffer her to depart while the vital spark remains. Even the attachment of fi'iendship has often been found strong as that of nature, has made men inseparable from their fi-iend in his extremity, and sometimes even dare to die for his sake. But here the moving principle was not merely nature but grace. They believed in Jesus as the Son of God, and Saviour of the world : they loved him not merely as a man whose amiable virtues had captivated theii- hearts, but as the Messiah of God, the Friend, the Sa\dour of their guilty perishing souls : they loved much, be- cause much had been forgiven them ; and, di-awn by the strong cords of love, they could not think of abandoning him in his extremity, could not resolve on separation from him even in death. The language of their conduct was akin to that of Ruth to Naomi, " Entreat us not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee ; for whither thou goest we will go, and where thou lodgest we will lodge ; thy people shall be our people, and thy God our God ; where thou diest we will die, and there will we be buried." Oh, the power of love ! " Many waters cannot quench it, neither can the floods drown it." NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. 215 Love to the Saviour, genuine, ardent love, will make us cling to him, undismayed by danger, unshaken by the re- proaches cast upon him and his cause. We cannot now prove our love as these godly women did, by following him to the cross ; but the same principle of affection to him will make us ready to forsake all and follow him, cleave to him and his cause when the rich, the learned, the great, the powerful, combine to oppose his cause and followers ; and to " esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt." 4. Their station by the cross gave them opiwrtmiity to hear and see much that was eminently calculated to edify and confirm them in the faith. If either their fears or the excess of their grief had induced them to remain shut up at home, what a precious opportunity for spiritual improvement must they have lost! an opportunity which, whatever benefit we may suppose them to have derived from it the moment, we are sure was highly profitable afterwards on reflection ; and the advantages of which not only were expei'ienced by themselves in future life, but descend to us at this distant period. For, (1.) Standing by the cross, they had opportunity to hear the dying sayings of the Saviour ; those sayings which, reported by them, are recorded (some of them) in Scripture, for our edifi- cation " on whom the ends of the world are come." How edifying to stand by the bed of dying saints, and hear them give their testimony to the truth of religion, and express with their quiveiing lips their faith and hope in God ! How edify- ing to read accounts of the martyrs of former times, who suffered for conscience-sake, and sealed their testimony with their blood ! — to listen to them when, out of the abundance of their hearts, they express their attachment to the cause for which they suffered, the pleasure they have felt in religion, and their assured hopes that only a few hours of suffering were between them and inexpressible and never-fading joys ! But how much more edifying to have stood by the cross of the King of Martyrs and King of Saints, and to have heard 216 NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. the gi"acious words which proceeded out of his mouth ! His dying sayings must have made an indelible impression on their hearts, must have been immoveably fixed in their memories, " as goads and as nails fastened by the masters of assembhes, wliich are given from one shepherd." If they could not at the moment rightly comprehend their Aveighty import, yet, re- curring to their memory afterwards, when they Avere better instructed in the mystery of his Avill, they would furnish much matter for pious meditation, and subject for much spiritual conversation Avith their godly neighbours and friends. Hoav interesting to hear and to recollect his expressions of faith in Grod, and good-Avill to men ! And, though last uttered, yet not least important, those Avords with AA'hich he closed his mortal life — to hear him cry with a loud voice, " It is finished ;" and then, as victorious over sufferings, " to boAv his head, and give up the ghost." (2.) Standing by the cross of Jesus, they had opportunity to witness his dying behaviour. If a good man, towards his end, could invite his friends to approach that they might see how a Christian can die, much more instruction in the art of dying was to be learned by attentive observation of the Saviour him- self. The Lord Jesus was the same in death as in life. In that hour, Avhich puts to the severest test the chai*acter and principles of men, he showed the same piety toward God, and the same benevolence towards men, the same meekness, and faith, and patience, as ever. Wlien melted in the furnace, no dross appeared ; all Avas pure gold. At the foot of the cross they must have seen, must have heard, much that indicated the extreme pain he suffered ; that there was an internal con- flict with spiritual darkness and with strong temptation, as well as an outward conflict with bodily suffering. But did they, could they, see or hear any indications of distrust in God, or of a vindictive spirit against his murderers? No. " The meekness and gentleness of Christ" Avere never more conspicuous. Never had one equal cause to complain of man- kind, and upbraid them for their conduct. Perjury had been NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. 21 7 resorted to to condemn him, and that by pei'sons who boasted of their piety. They had shown through their whole conduct a determination to destroy him, and an equal disregard to divine and human laws ; and on the cross his ears Avere assailed with unjust accusations, with reproaches, insults, and blas- phemies. And how did he bear all 1 The three Marys could testify, that " when he was reviled he reviled not again ; that when he suffered he threatened not ; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously." Yea, they must have heard those words in which he expressed his unshaken confidence in God, and undiminished good- will to men: his dying act of faith, "Into thy hands, O God, I commend my spirit;" and his dying prayers for his persecutors, " Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." At the foot of the cross they were furnished with a great and perfect example of what a Christian ought to be and do ; they were taught by Jesus' conduct not only how to live, but how to die. (3.) Standing by the cross of Jesus, they had opportunity ^o receive his dying charge. At the bedside of a dying friend, we eagerly listen to hear whether he has any commands to lay upon us, any solemn chai'ge to give us, by our faithful attention to which we may prove our regard to him after he is gone. Perhaps the Lord Jesus may have some dying request, some solemn charge to give some of us, some high commission with which he may wish to entrust us ; we will go to see. And this thought, if it occurred to any of them, would, of itself, have made them press through the crowd to the foot of the cross ; for could such friends have satisfied their own minds, if one article of duty had been omitted, if one instance of inat- tention to his will had been chargeable on them ? They go ; and two of them, in particular, receive a solemn charge. In the midst of his own sufferings, Jesus thought upon his mother. She was now in the decline of life, and, there is reason to think, was a widow. In her best days her worldly circum- stances had been narrow ; now deprived of her husband who laboured for her support, what shall become of her, especially 218 NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. when Jesus, " her remaining prop, is taken away, and her only- coal in Israel is quenched?" Jesus could have fed her during the remainder of her life by miracle, as he did the multitude in the wilderness ; but this would have been an unnecessary deviation from the common course of providence. He com- mits her, therefore, in her widowhood, to the care of a friend. And to whom could he more properly look than to the disciple whom he loved, to perform this act of friendship to him, to give this proof of his obedience and love ? " AMien Jesus, therefore," it follows in the verse after the text, " saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved," he delivers to them both an interesting charge. To his mother he saith, " "Woman, behold thy son ! " Though I die, there is one who will care for you, as if you were his own parent ; who will guard and nourish and provide for you ; be not anxious therefore about your future subsistence. " Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother ! " For my sake receive her into thy house, respect her, treat her with the same kind attention as if she were thy own mother. It is noted in the words that follow, that this dying charge was cheerfully accepted, and faithfully executed ; for " from that hour that disciple took her unto his own house." (4.) Standing by the cross of Jesus, they had opportunity to receive new confirmations of his divine character and saving power. The sufferings and death of Jesus were a most awful and mysterious dispeiffeation, difficult for those who conversed with him on earth to reconcile with his character as the Messiah, and with his gracious intention in coming to save ; and it had, in fact, stumbled Cleophas the husband of the second Mary, and, it is probable, others of his disciples. The station of these females at the foot of the cross was, in one point of view, very much calculated to strengthen their doubts, but, in another, eminently fitted to dispel them. If it was stumbling, not only to see him disowned and rejected of men, but to hear him complaining of being forsaken of God ; if the taunts of the multitude were ready to shake their fliith, " He NEARNESS TO THE CROSS, 219 saved others, himself he cannot save ; " othei* events had a direct tendency to assure their minds that he, who thus suffered, was indeed the Son of God. The preternatural darkness which enveloped them for three entire hours, and the great earthquake which shook the earth and rent the rocks where they stood, proclaimed to others, as well as to them who were near the cross, that it was the God of nature who now suffered. But they only Avho stood near the cross, who heard his words, who observed his behaviour, could say like the centurion, " Truly this was the Son of God." Every word that fell fi-om his lips, every part of his conduct, every circumstance that happened, was evidence that this was no ordinary person, was no other than the Redeemer of Israel. And what confirmation to their faith in the words that he spake in their hearing to the penitent thief, the saving power he exerted in his lowest distress in changing that wicked man's heart, and the assured hope he expressed, that he himself was going directly to paradise, and would immediately enter on his glory ! But reserving other instructions which their station by the cross gave them opportunity to learn, as matter of reflection afterwards, I conclude the discourse with remarking, (5.) That their station by the cross of Jesus exhibits them as examples for our imitation. We cannot, like them, literally follow Jesus to the cross, and behold him dying for the sins of a guilty world ; for, ha^dng " died once, he dieth no more," having by one offering " purged our sins, he sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high." Neither would it be profitable to our souls, nor any real aid to our devotion, to procure crucifixes to be made, and stare with steady gaze on an image of the dying Saviour. Yet there is a sense in which, like the Marys, we ought to take our station by the cross, and will find it profitable to our souls. Christ is " evidently set forth" in the blessed Gospel, and in the ordinance of the supper," " as crucified and slain." Let us, then, take our station near the cross, and devoutly meditate on the great events of Christ's dying day. While we may profitably meditate on all God's 220 NEARNESS TO THE CROSS. works, we shall find meditation on the great work of our redemption, on the Redeemer, his incarnation, substitution, sufferings, and glory, eminently subservient to our spiritual profit. O, what a sight ! The Just One suffering for the unjust ; the Son of God dying for the sins of men ! What will break our hearts, Avhat render sin odious to us, if not to look on him whom we have pierced ? "\Yliat give a more awful view of the hohness and justice of God, a more astonish- ing view of his wisdom and grace ? or what more endear the Saviour to us, than to see him " bearing our sins in his own body upon the tree." Let us take our station by the cross, by sitting down at his table. Here are instituted emblems of his sufferings ; and here we show forth his death until he come. Virtue will flow out of him, while we are thus employed, to quicken, sanctify, and comfort us. THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 221 VI. THE BURIAL OF JESUS. Matthew xxvii. 59, 60. — "And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in liis own new tomb, whieli he had hewn out in the rock : and he rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulclire, and departed." The burial of Christ is not merely an important fact recorded in the gospel history, but one of the great fundamental articles of christian faith. It is as necessary to pi-each and believe that Jesus Christ was laid in the grave, as that he died on the cross, or rose from the dead on the third day ; for his burial is the link Avhich connects his death which preceded it, with his resurrection which followed it ; and it serves to illustrate and confirm at once the reality of his death, and the truth of his resurrection from the dead. The fact of his bm-ial Avas deemed, therefore, by the spirit of inspiration, of such import- ance, that it is recorded, with a minute enumeration of its circumstances, by all the four evangelists ; and the doctrine of it was reckoned, by that master-builder Paul, so essential to the faith of Christians, that it formed one of the three gi-eat topics with which he commenced his ministry at Corinth. " I delivered to you, first of all, that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he rose again from the dead on the third day according to the Scriptures." I shall make no apology, then, for occupying your attention, at this time, with a discourse on the burial of Christ. For, if the funeral of a common friend be not only a very solemn and affecting, 222 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. but a most instructive scene, meditation on the intennent of oui' best friend, the Lord Jesus, must be eminently calculated to excite the best affections of our heart, and to produce that frame of spirit, which is peculiarly suitable, when we are professedly engaged in the commemoration of his death. My thoughts shall be ari'anged in the follo\\dng order : I shall first speak of the body which was buried ; secondly, of THE BURIAL OF IT ; and, thirdly, of the reasons why it was buried. I. Let me begin with speaking of the body which Joseph laid in the grave. And what shaU I say on this part of my subject, proper for the place where I now stand, and conducive to your spiritual edification ? A description of Christ's bodily appearance while he was in the world, of the stature, figure, complexion, and features of the man Christ Jesus, were it in my power to give it, would serve no valuable purpose. It is remai'kable that on these points the Scriptures are totally silent ; which would not have been the case, we may be sure, had acquaintance with such particulars been necessai-y for us, or in any respect useful. An idea of Jesus' bodily figure might amuse the carnal imagination of men, but would no more serve to strengthen our faith in him, or to produce and cherish love to him in our souls, than a picture or an image of him, to excite in the breast sentiments and feelings of genuine devotion. The christian Jews, residing in foreign parts, to whom Peter wrote, and who had never, like their brethren in Judea, seen the Saviour, sustained by this circum- stance no disadvantage for the exercise of suitable affections towards him. " Him ha\'ing not seen, they loved; in him, though now they saw him not, yet believing, they rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory." And as for such of the early Christians as had often seen the Lord Jesus, and heard him and conversed with him, so for was it from being of use for them to cherish the recollection of his bodily figure as a means of devotion, that Paul expressly states, that " though THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 223 they had known Christ aftei- the flesh, yet now henceforth," he says, "know we him no more." There are some pai'ticulars, however, respecting the body of Jesus, which it is very important for us to know. Of these I shall direct your attention to four : it was a real body, in every essential particular like the bodies of other men ; it was the habitation of the Deity ; it was never polluted by sin ; and it was brought into that condition in which Joseph received it, by sufferings that were altogether peculiar. 1. The body which Joseph deposited in the tomb, was a real human body, in every essential particular like the bodies of other men. Some ancient heretics pretended that our Lord Jesus did not assume a true body, but a phantasm, an unsub- stantial bodily appearance and figure, like those in which the angels appeared, who visited Abraham and some others of the ancients ; and it is in opposition to such absurd assertions that it is expressly taught us in our catechism, that " Clu'ist the Son of Grod became man, by taking to himself a true body and a reasonable sovd." An idea of this sort is worse than foolish. It saps the very foundation of all christian faith and hope. If Christ had not a real human body, then he did not really die, nor really rise again from the dead ; we have no evidence that atonement has been made for our sins, nor any solid assurance that there shall be a future resurrection of the just. How unscriptural it is, must be obvious to all of you who have any tolerable acquaintance with the Bible. It was written in the volume of ancient prophecy concerning him, " a body hast thou prepared for me ;" and it is represented as necessary for the gi-eat purposes of his mission into the world, that it should be made "like unto his brethren" whom he came to save. "Forasmuch, therefore, as the children were partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same." As really as he was " in the form of God" before his manifestation, so really when he came did he take " on himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men." The appearance of Christ in the form of a man was no im- 224 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. position on the senses of men ; though many were startled at his assertion that he was the Son of God, it never occurred to any of those who conversed with him on earth, to doubt whether he was really man. They saw him with their eyes, they heard him with their ears, they felt him with their hands. and were satisfied that a spirit had not flesh and bones as he had. Tliat body, which Joseph laid in the grave, had been formed in the womb, nourished on the breast, and can'ied in the arms ; it had grown up to the ordinary stature of man, strengthened by food, and refreshed by sleep ; it had suffered fatigue, felt pain, shed tears, emitted sweat, bled and died like other human bodies ; and all this, while it ii-resistibly proves that Christ was really " bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh," furnishes the most delightful evidence of the greatness of his condescension, and of the ardour of his love to our guilty souls. For let it be observed, 2. That the body of Jesus Avas the habitation of the Deity. Such honour had never in any other instance been conferred on flesh and blood, as was conferred on the body of Jesus. It was not merely honoured with being the residence of a rational and immortal spirit ; for this is the common privilege of all living human bodies, and their distinguishing honour above every other animated form on earth. The body of Jesus, besides being animated by the rational human soul, was the residence of the Deity. God dwelt in the man Christ Jesus, not merely as he dwells in the saints, whose bodies are said to be " the temples of the Holy Ghost," by the special presence and influence of his Spirit , but in a manner incon- ceivably more close and intimate, by the personal union snXh. the second person of the Holy Trinity. Tlie body of Jesus had this peculiar honour from the moment of its formation in the womb of his virgin mother. It never had a separate existence ; its union with the second person of the Trinity is coeval with its being ; for our entire nature having been assumed by him into personal union with himself, the human body of the man Christ Jesus, became from the instant of its formation, the THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 225 body of the Son of God. I will not attempt a more particular explanation of the subject, lest in my attempt I should " darken counsel by words without knowledge." It is eminently " the mystery of godliness," and is " without controversy great ;" but when we read it distinctly stated in Scripture, that " God was manifested in the flesh," and that " the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us," we are bound to set the seal of our faith to the divine testimony on this subject, and to revere a mystery which neither men nor angels are able to compre- hend. With what different eyes ought Joseph to have viewed the body which Pilate delivered up to him to be interred, from those with which he had ever viewed any other corpse ! And with what different sentiments ought we now to con- template the dead body of Jesus ! This piece of inanimate clay was no vulgar corpse. In it the Son of God had dwelt for three and thirty years. With these eyes he had seen the multitude and had compassion on them ; had beheld Jerusalem and wept over it. With these lips he had preached the glad tidings of salvation, and spoken gracious words such as never man spake. With these hands he had healed the sick, opened the eyes of the blind, and performed many marvellous works. With these feet he had gone about from place to place doing good. Nor had the Deity, even now that it was stretched out in death, cold, bloody, stiffened, inanimate, forsaken the body which had been for a while his temple. The union between it and the Son of God was unbroken by the rude hand of death. The precious immortal soul had for a season fled, and a temporary separation taken place between the two consti- tuent parts of human nature ; but the separate spirit and dead body of Christ continued both in union vdth his divine person, and will continue in union with him for ever and ever. Ere long this body was to be reanimated, and in connection with its soul to " ascend above all heavens," and enjoy in union with the Son of God " pleasures for evermore." 3. The body of Jesus was never polluted hy sin. And of what other human body ever committed to the grave could 226 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. tliis be affirmed ? The diseases Avliich pre j on tlie human constitution, and prepare the body for the grave, and the acci- dents which suddenly cut the thread of life, and hun-y men to that dark and dreary abode, are not unfrequently the immedi- ate effects of those tieshly lusts in which they indulged. And even when this is not the case, it is to sin we must trace the tirst introduction of death into the world, and its long con- tinued and universal reign. " Death," says an apostle, " entered by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned," Sin opened the first grave ; and ever since has fed it with new prey ; for the victims, which in every age have been swallowed up by its all devoui'ing jaws, have all been men that have sinned. Till Jesus was laid in it, it had been the receptacle only of polluted clay. A body entirely pure from sin, members that had never " yielded themselves instruments of unrighteousness," never entered its dark domain, till Joseph deposited in his own tomb the body of the holy one and the j ust. His body was the habitation of a pure and spotless soul, which had never cherished an unholy thought, or done a crimi- nal action; yea, which was untainted by original sin, that leaven Avhich has spread its corrupt influence through the whole mass of mankind, and in every other instance infected every power of the human soul, and every member of the human body. And though he conversed with sinners, he had " no fellow- ship with the unfruitful works of darkness." Of him, and of him alone, it could be said, that " he did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth ;" that in every instance he had done " what pleased the Father ;" and that he " was holy, harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners." The body of Jesus was no meet subject for the gi'ave ; and, among all the inhabitants of that populous region, Avas without a fellow. Whence was it, then, that death preyed on this body ? that the grave received it? Wlience? " Messiah died for sin, but not his own." " He was cut off, but not for himself." Though pure from all personal guilt, he bare guilt imputed; and was treated as those deserved for whose sins he became responsible. " He bare THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 227 our sins in his own body on the tree ;" and for us and our salvation, bowed his neck to the stroke of death, and consented to lie a while in the prison of the grave. I added, 4. The body of Jesus was brought into that condition in which Joseph received it, by sufferings which ivere altogether peculiar. Death is usually preceded by sufferings more or less severe, and in some instances is the conclusion of a long series of most excruciating pains. In the case of Jesus, death stole not on him, as he does on some, by slow lingering disease ; nor, as in other cases, did his office ere it was observed that his hand was lifted up to fetch the stroke. He assailed the Saviour in his rudest form, armed with aU his terrors, and made him, in every member, feel himself die. The bloody corpse, in the state in which it was taken down from the cross and delivered to Joseph, must have given melancholy indications of the sufferings which he had endured. The temples wounded by the thorns of his mock crown, the back all torn by the scourge, the hands, the feet pierced through by nails, the wide opening in the side made by the soldier's spear ; all too clearly testified in what agony he had expired. But others have been cruci- fied, and these pains though exquisite, were not peculiar. We must combine therefore with these, the sorrows of his former life, and all that internal anguish of soul, unspeakably more pain- ful than outward suffering, which he endured when he drank the cup of wrath, and bore the curse of the law for our sakes. "Wliat inconceivable pain must he have felt, when the agony of his soul produced his bloody sweat in the garden, and in such profusion that it " was as it were, great drops of blood falling do^\^l to the gi'ound ! " We need not wondei', considering what he suffered, that he died ; the wonder is, that human nature sus- tained such sufferings for so long a season ; and that it did sustain them, must be ascribed, not merely to the aid of the angel sent to strengthen him, but chiefly to the strength of the Deity, which in the person of the Son, " dwelt in him bodily." In the dead body of Jesus, we behold the dire effects of the sin of God's people. It fell the victim of divine justice, under that stroke 228 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. wliich we deserved to have borne ; a sacrifice for our sids. " He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him ; and with his stripes we are healed." " The Lord had laid on him the iniquity of us all." II. Let me now proceed to the burial of the dead body of Jesus ; for, " when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his o-nii new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock ; and he rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre and departed." Here three inquiries Avill be proper, hj lohom, in ivhat manner, and ichen the body of Jesus Avas buried. 1. Let us consider by tcliom the body of Jesus was buried. The burial of Jesus was in remarkable conformity with his manner of life, simple, without noise and without show. In his lifetime, he declined worldly pomp, and aU the pageantry of state which is affected by the great ; for he " came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ran- som for many." The great Captain of salvation was buried without parade. No hired train of mourners moved in slow procession before his more than royal corpse, decked out in all the idle splendour of affected mourning. The precious remains of the best friend and greatest benefactor of our race were privately conveyed by two friends, from the place of public execution to the gi'ave in which they were to be laid, with none but such attendants as were necessary to assist them in the performance of this mournful office. The chief mourner, who took the most active part in this melancholy duty, was one, of whom we might never have heard, had not his faitli in the Lord Jesus and affection to him, brought him forwai'd at a time when his disciples had fled, and all the world seemed to have abandoned its Saviour. " Joseph of Arimathea, a rich man," says Matthew, an " honourable councillor," says Mark, " a good man and a just," says Luke, " who also himself waited for the kingdom of God," " being a disciple of Jesus," says THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 229 John, " but secretly for fear of tlie Jews," had been no indifferent observer of the life, doctrine, and miracles of Jesus. This good man, though he had not the courage hitherto openly to profess Christ, sincerely believed on him, and, as if ashamed of his former pusillanimity, became courageous when others shrunk from danger. In his place as a member of the great Sanhedrim, he opposed the infamous sentence which that court pronounced against God's anointed ; for the evangelist Luke tells us, that " he consented not to the counsel and deed of them ;" and not satisfied with this late and ineffectual appear- ance in his behalf, openly espoused his cause when he hung lifeless on the tree, and when even the faith of the twelve themselves was greatly shaken. " He went in boldly to Pilate," says Mark, " and craved the body of Jesus." With him, John informs us, was associated another cowardly disciple, Nicode- mus, " the same who came to Jesus by night," a man of rank also, to whom, as well as to Joseph, God gave a measure of courage to avow his faith in Christ, and love to him in death, Avhich he had never possessed during Jesus' life. These two men performed this duty to the dead Saviour, and with such decent attention to the customs of their country, as circum- stances permitted. Need I say that they did a good work ? for sure, if affection to a parent or a friend prompts men to anxiety to have their bodies decently interred, the blessed Jesus, who lost his life in our cause, must have had a much stronger claim on men, whose whole happiness for time and eternity was " bound up in the bundle of life" with him, to this act of kind attention. Nor can we hesitate respecting the motives of their conduct. It could not be ostentation, for they did it privately ; it could not proceed from hypocritical professions of regard, for the tide of popular opinion ran in full stream against him on this occasion ; it was not the effect of mere natural sympathy; the language of Scripture obliges us to ascribe it to higher and nobler principles ; to faith and love. It is recorded in Scripture to their eternal honour, that they befriended the forsaken Saviour ; honoured with the 230 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. decent rites of burial the body of " him whom man despised and the nation abhorred." He who hath said, that " a cup of cold water given to a disciple in the name of a disciple, shall in no wise lose its reward," surely hath not been " unmindful of this work and labour of love, which," in such pecuhar cii'cum- stances " they shewed unto him." They live with the Saviour whom, with heavy hearts and streaming eyes, they laid in the silent tomb ; and shall be eternally delighted with the sight of that body in glory, Avliich they then saw, and received, and honoured, all pale, and stiff, and bloody at the foot of the cross. 2. Let us inquire into the manner of his burial. Now, here it is, first of all, proper to be observed, that a warrant of the magistrate was necessary to obtain possession of the body, and permission to bury it. It was not usual for crucified persons to be buried. Their sentence implied that they were to hang on the cross, not only till they expired through excess of pain, but after death, till beasts and birds of prey, or their exposure to the elements, should consume their remains. But, had this part of tlie sentence been executed, how could the Scriptures have been fulfilled ? or how could assurance have been given us of his resurrection from the dead? Let us revere the wisdom of divine providence in ordering it otherwise. " The Sabbath" which followed Jesus' death, " was an high day," one of the great feasts of the Jews ; and the hypocrites, who were at the head of affairs in the Jewish church and state, though they had no scruples of conscience at passing sentence on an innocent person, and at overawing a weak and corru])t magisti'atc to order his execution, were in dreadful alarm lest the Sabbath should be polluted by the continuance of the body on the tree. They applied to Pilate to have the death of the criminals hastened, if it should be necessary, and the bodies taken down before the Sabbath commenced. Pilate had scarcely given his consent to their request before Joseph appeared, begging the body for burial ; and thus the providence of God arranged matters, that the Scriptures might be fulfilled, THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 231 and that this good man should obtain opportunity to do those honoui'S to a dead, which he had not courage to do to a living, Saviour. See, then, the good man hastening with melancholy pleasure to his labour of love. Without losing a moment, he buys fine linen, takes down the body from the cross, weeps over it. While thus employed, Nicodemus joins him, " bringing with him a mixture of mjTrh and aloes, about an hundred pound weight." The two take the body, " wind it in the linen with the spices, as the manner of the Jews is to bury," and proceed with it in mournful silence to the place of interment. As they go forward, a crowd of female mourners meet them, who, unconscious of what Joseph and Nicodemus had done, were anxious to pay like honours to the dead body of their Lord. " The women, which came with Jesus out of Galilee, followed after," till they reached the grave, and departed not till they not only " beheld the sepulchre," but " saw how his body was laid." Such was the funeral of our Lord, performed privately without pomp, and Avith only such decent attention to the customs of the country, as the shortness of the time and other circumstances permitted ; and remarkable chiefly for the sincere affection and unfeigned grief of the little company which attended him to the grave. Never did mortal remains equally deserve such attentions. The expenses laid out were not idly thrown away, nor were they grudged. Not idly thro"\vn away; for the Saviour himself, seems to me to give the sanction of his approbation to what Joseph andNicodemus did to his body, by these remarkable words, addi'essed to his disciples, in vindication of the woman who poured an alabaster box of ointment on his head : "In that she poured this ointment on my body, she did it for my burial." And not grudged ; for genuine love to the Saviour, and warm like theirs, which made them own him in such circumstances, would not have considered it as too much to pai't with all for liis sake, 3. Let me now examine the place where the body of our Lord was laid. Joseph had no time to deliberate long, how he was 232 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. to dispose of the sacred body, nor did he need. Tlie respect and love he had for the deceased instantly suggested, that as lie well deserved, so he should i*eceive, the very best that he liad. lie had cutout of the solid rock a sepulchre for himself, a family burial place becoming his rank ; it was but lately finished ; no body had yet been laid in it ; and Joseph resolves on giving to his Saviour what he had intended for himself; perhaps consoling himself under his present grief Avith the thought, that he should hereafter sleep in the dust, in the A^ery place where his Lord lay. He lent his own grave to him who repays with ample interest, whatever is devoted to his service. Now, two things are observable in respect to the grave of Jesus. First, the appropriate fitness of the place to the character of him who lay in it. He who was separate from sinners in life, was separate fi'om them in death. When he came into the world, he lay in a virgin womb ; Avhen he departed out of it, he lay in a virgin grave, " in a new sepulchre wherein Avas never man yet laid." But, chiefly, this circumstance was wisely ordered with respect to what was to follow. The sepulchre being cut out of the rock, Avith a great stone rolled to the door of it, and a guard of soldiers set to Avatch it, how coidd the body be stolen aAvay ? or, if it should be found empty, what doubt could remain that it was Jesus himself, and not another, Avho had risen from the dead ? "Where there was but one solitary body, there could be no mistake of the individual. Our faith, then, on the great and fundamental doctrine of Jesus's resurrection is confirmed, Avithout Joseph's intention at the time, by his laying the body in his OAvn new tomb, Avhich he had heAvn out of the rock, and by his rolling a stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departing. Mysterious are the Avays of providence, and great the care of providence, that our faith may rest on a basis Avhich cannot be shaken. in. I noAV proceed to tlie reasons of our Lord's burial ; Avhy it Avas ordered, not merely that Jesus should die, but that he THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 233 should be laid in the grave. The following particulars will serve, in some measure, to account for this. 1. Jesus's burial was an effect of that curse which he endured for our sakes. The sin of man had subjected, not only his soul, but his body to the curse ; his soul to separation from God, and to his wrath; hisbody to labour and pain, to death and the grave. " In the day thou eatest, thou shalt die." " In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return to the ground, out of which thou wast taken." Now our Lord Jesus exposed himself, by his voluntary substitution in his people's stead, to all that they deserved, and had, in fact, to endure the whole curse, else their salvation could not be accomplished. In the awful darkness which spread over his soul on the cross, when he cried out, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ?" and in the indescribable agony he endured in the garden, when heexclaimed, "Mysoul isexceeding sorrowful, even untodeath," we see the arrows of the Almighty piercing him, the waves and billows of his wrath going over him, his holy soul paying the penalty of his people's transgressions. And as for his body, the labours of his life, and the pains of his death, show that in it also he suffered the curse. Only one thing more than death was wanting, to fill up the measure of threatened wrath ; that he should descend to the grave ; and the love, the grace, which led him to submit to every thing else, made him not shrink from this last and lowest step of humiliation. He who " bore our sins in his own body on the tree," consented also to Ue in the grave for our sakes. And, O, what evil must there have been in sin, that in order to our redemption from it, it became necessary that he should stoop so very low, and as the apostle expresses it, "descend into the lower parts of the earth !" 2. Jesus' burial confirms the reality of his death. Crucifixion is a species of death, under the torments of which criminals usually languished, perhaps, for days. It was the knowledge of this fact, which induced the Jewish rulers to beseech Pilate that the legs of Jesus and the two thieves might be broken, in order to hasten their death, that they might be taken down 234 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. fi'om the cross before the Sabbath began. Aiid it was this wliich led Pilate to ex2)ress liis surprise at Joseph's application for the body within so few hours after the crucifixion. " Pilate marvelled," says Mark, " if he were ah-eady dead, and call- ing unto him the centurion, he asked him whether he had been any while dead. And Avhen he knew it of the centu- rion, he gave the body to Joseph." Now, the death having taken place so soon, and the soldiers not having executed their orders to break Jesus' legs, as they had done to those of the other two, had the body of Jesus remained unburied, the Jewish rulers, in order to discredit the report of Jesus' return to life, instead of being compelled to invent and circulate the foolish story, that his disciples had stolen away the body, while the whole guard of soldiers Avere sound asleep, would have with gi'eat plausibility afRrmed, that he had never been really dead. See, then, how wisely it was ordered that Jesus should be biu'ied, and lie a part of three days in the grave watched by unbelievers. It leaves the matter out of doubt, that he not merely suffered, but died ; that he actually " laid down his life for us," "the just for the unjust," and "was for the transgression of his people stricken to death," and "cut off out of the land of the living." 3. Jesus' burial was necessary, tliat the Scriptures might be fulfilled. For the Scriptures did not merely, by the prefigura- tions of the law, and the predictions of the projihets, teach that he was to be sacrificed, to die for us, but that he was to descend to the grave. Of this we have an eminent type, in the story of Jonas, and an express prophecy in the words of Isaiah. The case of Jonas is quoted by our Lord, as Avhat was to be literally fulfilled in him ; " for as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly, so must the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heai't of the earth." And the words of Isaiah are not less express, " He made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death," or rather, according to the strict meaning of the original, " his gi'ave was appointed with the wicked, but he was with the rich THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 235 in his death." When the rulers obtained of Pilate, that his death should be hastened by breaking his legs, and his body be taken down from the cross, it was settled among them that it should be carried to Golgotha, the charnel house for the bodies of criminals, and cast in among the multitude of the carcases of the wicked ; but providence ordered it, through the kind interference of Joseph, that though his grave was appointed with tlie wicked, he was actually laid " with the rich in his death," in the new and unused tomb of a rich and pious nobleman. How minutely were the scriptures fulfilled in our Lord ! the law and the prophets harmonizing in the completest manner with the actual history of events ! Jesus could not cry on the cross, " I thirst ; " they could not give him " vinegar mixed with gall ;" the soldiers could not forbear breaking his legs, nor part his garments without rending them ; nor could he be laid in Joseph's tomb ; but the Spirit of inspiration signified aU this many ages before, and the providence of God so arranged matters, that all was exactly fulfilled. 4. Jesus was buried, that he might triumjjh over the grave as well as other enemies. The Captain of salvation came from heaven to earth, to plead our cause by conflicting "wdth all the enemies of God and man; and his work would have been im- perfectly done, if he had declined meeting with any of our foes, or left any of them unsubdued. Already he had triumphed over some of them, over the devil, over the world, over sin ; this he had done during his life, and in his death ; but there remained two over whom he had not yet triumphed, death and the gi'ave. As yet, he was subject to the power of death, and seemed rather overcome than a conqueror ; and as for the grave, he had not yet gi'appled with this enemy, till his body was laid in Joseph's sepulchre. His burial, then, was necessary that his triumph might be complete. And it was so. In two respects, in particular, was his victory evident and decisive. For, fii'st, in the grave he saw not corruption. The power of the grave, exercised over the bodies of men, in promoting their corruption and reducing them to dust, failed in regard to 236 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. liim. In his case this loathsome process never even com- menced. The promise was fulfilled to the Saviour : " Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell," that is, in the separate state, " neither will thou suffer thine holy one to see corruption." There was no sin in him to be rotted out of his bones, by lying in the grave. His holy body lay as safe in the grave from the worm and corruption, as the children in the furnace from the flame, or Daniel in the den from the teeth of the lions. And secondly, the grave was unable to retain its poAver over him. While he lay in the grave, his flesh, as said the prophet, " rested in hope," in the certain hope of a glorious resurrection. How, indeed, could this enemy retain him a prisoner, who had never contracted personal debt, and all whose surety engage- ments were completely discharged by him, when he bowed his head and gave up the ghost ? His submission to its power for a season was not by constraint, but willingly ; and " it was not possible that he should be holden of it," longer than the gi-eat ends of his death required. On the third, the appointed day, therefore, he rose triumphant, broke its barriers, and returned to the light of life. Short was the grave's triumph ; complete and lasting its defeat. Jesus showed, that as he " had power to lay down his life, he had power also to take it again ;" and having " declared himself to be the Son of God," by that power which he exerted " in his resurrection from the dead," he further shows the completeness of his victory, by retaining "the power of an endless life;" for "having died unto sin once, he dieth no more, death hath no more dominion over him." Glorious victory, indeed ! " I am," he says, " he that liveth, and was dead, and behold, I am alive for evermore, and have the keys of hell and of death," that is, possess the complete power of death and the grave ; a victory which he will make all his people to share ; for " they that sleep in the dust," in union with him, shall one day " awake and sing, and the eai'th shall cast out the dead." This suggests a last reason. 5. The burial of Christ was necessary to sanctify the grave to THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 237 Ins followers. " It is appointed to men once to die," and good men as well as others must visit tlie tomb. But is it no con- solation to the dying Christian, when his flesh shudders at dissolution, and every feeling revolts at the darkness, the still- ness, the degradation of the grave, at the worm and corrup- tion,— ^is it no consolation to think that his Saviour lay in it before him? The grave should scare you less. Christians, when you reflect that you are only to lie doAvn where Jesus lay ; and especially when you consider that his lying in it before you has made it soft and easy. It can now do you no harm. Death hath no sting ; the grave no victory. Both these enemies are disarmed, and rendered innoxious. Death is to you only a sleep, and the grave a bed, in which wearied exhausted nature is to rest tiU the last morning come, when you shall arise from your beds, awake from your long and sweet repose, refreshed, vigorous, fitted for the exercises and the joys of a renovated, everlasting, and blessed life in heaven. You shall sleep in safety, for he preserveth not only the souls, but the bodies of his saints. Your dust will be precious in his sight ; and when the appointed season arrives, his powerful voice shall rouse you from your slumbers, and call you to life and joy. Let this not only reconcile you to dissolution, but excite triumph in the prospect. " 0 death ! where is thy sting ? O grave ! where is thy victory ? " Look to Christ dying, lying in the grave, rising from the dead. " His death j'our peace insures. Think on the grave where he was laid. And cahn descend to yours." I conclude with calling your attention briefly to three things : to the evil of sin ; to the grace of the Saviour ; and to the duty of remembering him. 1 . What mirror can exhibit the loathsomeness of sin like this? Even sin imputed, though there was no personal guilt, subjected our blessed Lord to death and the grave. See him a lifeless corpse, carried by Joseph to the abode of silence, deposited in the tomb, and left there, shut in by a gi-eat stone 238 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. rolled to the door of it. Whence all this ? Is there not a cause ? Sin, the sins of his people whom he came to redeem, your sins, 0 Christian, brought the Son of God to this ab- ject state. All this was owing to your rebellion against the law of your God, You pierced him, your sins slew him : had it not been for this, Jesus had not died. But how otherwise could sin be expiated, and you saved ? O think of it ! Hate that which cost your best friend so much ; flee fi'om that which God has shown he so abhors. Be " dead unto sin, but live unto righteousness." 2. Consider the grace of Christ. It was not from necessity, but choice, that he died. Had it not been for love to us, he never Avould have suffered grief, or tasted the bitterness of death. He was not only an ardent friend, but friendship in him was " strong as death." It was in our cause that he died: "He gave himself for us;" "He loved us, and Avashed us from our sins in his blood." " Greater love hath no man than this, that a man should lay down his life for his friends," but " he commended his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, and enemies, he died for us," Can you think of him stretched out in death, and laid in the grave, and not say, "Behold how he loved us!" He fell the victim of his love. His zeal for our welfare impelled him forward, when he knew the issue. He died for love. ' 3, Can you forget him? Is it not your duty and your desire to remember a friend so kind, and love so true ? You cannot show gratitude to him as they could who lived in the days of his flesh, I bid you not, like the godly women who ministered to his necessities, give of your goods to feed the Saviour ; for he is now above necessity and want, I bid you not take part with Joseph in weeping over his lifeless body, and aiding him in its decent interment ; for he has returned to life. But I will call on you to remember him. Out of love to him feed his poor, honour his name, copy his example, do his commandments. Out of love to him read his word, medi- tate on his love, aspire at conformity to him, and fellowship THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 239 with hiin. Out of love to him come to his table, show forth his death till he come ; and, with hearts broken for sin, and melting with affection, eat bread and drink wine in remem- brance of him. ADDRESS AT THE TABLE. At the grave of a friend a crowd of mournful reflections rush into the mind : the rank he held in society ; the virtues of the deceased ; the good works he was accustomed to perform ; the proofs he gave of his affection to us ; the loss which society has sustained, and which we in particular will sustain, by his removal from us. Let us take our station for a moment at Jesus' tomb, and meditate on him who lies in it. What rank did he hold in society ? He Avas not an ordinary man. Though his dress was always jalain, his worldly cir- cumstances low, his chief companions men in the humbler walks of life ; though he laboured long with his hands for daily bread, and sometimes received of the charity of pious women, his rank was really high. He Avas a prince in dis- guise. He was born to a throne ; " the King of the Jews," the heir of David's throne. What say I! This is "the Prince of the kings of the earth," " the Governor among the nations," whose " name is Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." The dead body which Ave now contemplate is the body of the great " Immanuel, God with us;" of him who, before he assumed it, reigned in heaven ; the partner of Jehovah's throne ; the equal and " the fellow of the Lord of Hosts." Wliat was the character ? Avhat the virtues of the deceased? We need not spread the mantle of charity over him to hide his defects, for he had none. Nor need we the partial eye of affection to magnify his virtues, for they could not be exceeded: " Thou art all fair, my love ; there is no spot in thee." Since Adam fell, the earth had never borne so innocent, so spotless, so perfect a character. From the Avomb he Avas pure. Every 240 THE BURIAL OF JESUS. grace beamed in his countenance, every heavenly virtue adorned his heart. His lips never spake an idle or an inconsiderate word; his heart never cherished an impure thought; his hands never performed a bad action. Though he frequented the company of sinners, it was only to reclaim them ; though often accused, he could be convinced of no sin ; thoiigh he died as a criminal, yet, his enemies being judges, no fault could be found in him. He did not " cry nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the streets." He was " meek and lowly," gentle and peaceful, compassionate and merciful. And as for good works, was he not a devout worshipper of God, a faithful reprover of sin, an eloquent preacher of right- eousness, a beneficent friend to the poor, the sick, the maimed ? It is recorded of him, that " he went about doing good ;" and what miracles of mercy and of power did he work ! " The blind received their sight from him, the lame were made to walk, and the deaf to hear, the lepers were cleansed, the dead raised up, and the poor had the gospel preached unto them." If anything more must be added, think of the proofs of affection which he gave to us. There can be no doubt that this was a friend ; every thought, every look, every word, every action breathed friendship, affection without a parallel. All that he was, he Avas for us ; all that he had, he devoted to our service. Our welfare was the first, the constant wish of his heart. For us he lived, for us he died. Come let us show how we love him who so loved us. "In the same night in which he was betrayed," &c. What brought Jesus into the world ? for coming into the world was, in his case, a voluntary action. It was love. What was the spring of all his actions Avhen in it ? It was love. It was on a message of love that he came ; and in the work of love he was unremittingly engaged. He sought not ours, but us : our salvation, not from temporal evils merely, our salva- tion from the guilt of sin, from the power of the devil, from the flames of hell ; our holiness, our happiness ; these were THE BURIAL OF JESUS. 241 the objects at which he aimed. And how much did he that he might obtain his desire ! He prayed, he preached, he laboured, he suffered, he bled, he died for our salvation, and now he is laid low even in the grave. What a loss to the world ! No more wiU his shining example reprove the -wicked, animate the godly ; no more his sacred lips preach good tidings to the meek ; no more his blessed hands heal the diseased. But let us not sorrow as they who have no hope. He is no more in the world, but the Scriptures are with us, the faith- ful record of his example, his doctrines, his love. He is " no more in the world," but he is in a better world, vsdth a heart unchanged, with power and inclination undiminished to watch over our welfare, to attend to our interests, to complete our salvation. " Fear not," said the angel, " for I know that ye seek Jesus which was crucified ; he is not here, he is risen as he said ; come, see the place where the Lord lay." His death and his life are both our gain. His death purchased our sal- vation ; his life procures it. By his death he made atonement ; by his life he makes intercession. He went not to the gi-ave, till he had " finished the work which the Father had given him to do ; " and he hasted from the grave, " to appear in the presence of God for us," where " he ever liveth to make intercession." His death and burial were no real lasting loss, but unspeakable gain to the world ; necessary parts of that dispensation of grace for which we shall have eternal reason to magnify God. Let us then withdraw our eyes from his tomb, to think on his crown ; for he now reigns, is "exalted far above all heavens;" and "has all things put under his feet." Blessed Jesus ! May we ever think of thee, and ever serve thee ! May we be like thee on earth, and Avith thee in heaven for ever ! Amen. 242 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. VII. THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. Luke xxiv. 32. — " And they said one to another, Did not our hearts burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened unto us the Scriptures ? " These words contain the evening's reflections of two good men on a very interesting conversation in which they had home a part in the course of the day. It appeared, when they compared notes on the suhject, that both of them had felt, during the time of it, an indescribable pleasure, and that they had derived from it a very great degree of instruction and spmtual edification. The conversation had made a deep and indelible impression on their hearts. It had not merely made the time pass most agreeably during their journey fi'om Jeru- salem to Emmaus, and diverted all sense of fatigue from an eight miles' walk, but it had kindled in their breasts the sacred flame of devotion to an ardour never felt before ; insomuch that, as they express it, " their hearts burned within them, while Jesus talked with them by the way, and opened to them the vScriptures." It seldom happens that we can make such delightful reflec- tions on the conversations in which we engage. Few of them, alas! contribute much to our improvement, or can be recalled with any degree of comfort. T\1aether we converse together in the house, or on the road; whether going to the market or the church, our conversation commonly partakes of the vanity and carnality of our minds; is trifling and insignificant, tend- ing neither to enlighten the understanding, nor to meliorate the heart. It is seldom occupied on any thing which has more than a temporary interest, or a local importance; yea, is often THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 243 employed in a manner whicli conscience cannot approve; in discussing, perhaps, the characters of our acquaintances; retail- ing the idle stories which are in circulation to their prejudice; and passing severe censures, often without due information, on what we disapprove of in their conduct. Not so in the case of the two disciples whose words are before us. They had been better, and their own reflections, after the conversation was over, satisfied them that they had been more profitably employed. They chose, as the subject of their conversation, the great events which had happened at Jerusalem ^vithin the few preceding days, events of no common magnitude, of no local or temporary interests, events the most important that had ever happened in the annals of time, and interesting, not to the speakers only, but to mankind in general, in every country, and in every age. They discoursed of the suJ0ferings, and death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. They were, I acknowledge, but very indifferently qualified for talking with much propriety, or to their mutual profit, on these great topics: for their ideas of Jesus' character, and of the design of his mission, were very indistinct, and in some respects, very erroneous ; and besides, the state of their spirits at the time disposed them to take the gloomiest views of the subject, and the least calculated to edify one another. But, " as iron sharpeneth iron, so does the countenance of a man his friend." The communication of their sentiments and feel- ings to one another, was calculated to enlarge and rectify their views, and to excite in their hearts a deeper interest in the great subject on which they conversed. Besides, in thus con- versing, they were in the path of duty, and in the way of obtaining spiritual benefit; and if their conversation could not be conducted with that ability with which men could have conducted it who knew the Avay of the Lord more perfectly, it was managed, at least, with all gravity and seriousness, and with the most anxious concern to know the truth. They talked as they could ; and let no man excuse himself for declining to talk on religious subjects, on pretence of his limited knowledge, 244 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. and unready elocution. These two disciples found their advan- tage in their employment. The Lord himself met them while they were thus employed, and conveyed such information to their minds, and spake with such divine energy to their heai-ts, tliat their " hearts Avere made to burn within them while he talked with them by the way, and opened to them the Scrip- tures." Oh! that the like light and energy were to be commu- nicated, while we discourse on this subject : First, On the CONVERSATION; and, secondly, On the effect of it, in causing their •' hearts to burn within them." I. INIy observations on the conversation to Avhich the text refers, shall respect the topic of discourse ; the persons engaged in it ; the time when it took place ; the place where it was cairied on ; its duration ; and its suitableness to the circum- stances of the parties concerned. 1. The topic of conversation was one of the most important subjects which can employ the tongues or thoughts of men. It respected the character and history of Christ, and particularly the great question, Whether it was he who should redeem Israel ? — a subject this, not of idle curiosity, or curious specu- lation, but which is the very pith and marrow of religion; which lies at the very foundation of our hopes as guilty crea- tures ; and which must, according to the view we take of it, determine whether it is the highest wisdom, or the gi-eatest folly, to entrust our salvation to the power and grace of Christ. It is evident, from the melancholy on the countenance of the two disciples at the time when Jesus joined their company, and from the manner in which they speak when they first informed him of the subject of theu' conversation, that tliey were greatly embarrassed what conclusion to form : " What manner of communications are these which ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad?" " We trusted that it had been he which should have delivered Israel," — expressions which indicate, not only the greatness of theii' perplexity, but the present tendency of their minds to abandon hope in him. What staggered them THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 245 so much on the subject was, no hesitation in their minds respecting the amiable purity of his life and doctrine, or the amazing miracles which he had performed, for they declare their belief in him as a prophet, mighty in word and deed before God and all the people, but the unexpected, awful, and to them unaccountable, occurrences which had lately happened to him : the chief priests and rulers had delivered him to be condemned to death, and had actually crucified him. These things they knew not how to reconcile with their persuasion that he was the Messiah, the Redeemer of Israel ; nor could they conceive, supposing him to be indeed the Messiah, how to account for his enemies being permitted to proceed to such extremities against him, or what valuable end was to be accomplished by his death. Besides, the report of his re- surrection that morning, to Avhich they knew not what degree of credit to attach, only increased theu' embarrassment. Such was the deeply interesting topic of conversation ; the weighty question which it was the object of it to resolve : Was Jesus of Nazareth merely a good man, and an eminent prophet, or the Saviour promised to the fathers? "VVliy was he de- livered up to death? And is it a fact that he is risen from the dead? All was dark and mysterious, till the unknown stranger who had joined them, opened his mouth. How, indeed, could their difficulties be resolved, as long as they speculated on these subjects, without appealing to Scripture? Scripture is the test of truth and falsehood in religion. Its au- thority is law. It is only by carefully searching the Scrip- tures, that our understandings can be rightly informed respect- ing the gi'eat truths of religion, our en'ors corrected, and our faith confirmed. To the Scriptures, therefore, Jesus imme- diately directed their attention. The scripture of the Old Testament is full of Christ. Its histories, its types, its predic- tions, all have a reference to him; and none can be well acquainted with the character, office, and work of the Saviour, who is not mighty in the Scriptures. Jesus instituted a com- parison of the events which puzzled them so much, with what 246 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. was of old recorded in Scripture concerning the Messiah; " and beginning at Moses, and all the prophets, expounded to them, in aU the Scriptures, the things concerning himself," demon- strating that there was the highest consistency, and the most urgent necessity, for those very events which had occasioned to their uninformed minds such embarrassment and distress; for " ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory?" Thus the great topic of conver- sation respected the character, death, and resurrection of Christ; and information on this subject was sought for, as it always ought, from holy scripture. Jesus " talked with them by the way, and opened vmto them the Scriptures." Let us now attend to, 2. The persoris who hold the conversation. The conversation was begun and carried on for some time in private by two disciples of Christ, and afterwards taken up by Jesus himself, who joined them in the habit of a stranger. Although we had not been informed that they were disciples of Christ, we might, from the circumstance that the things which concerned him occupied their thoughts and conversation, have conjectured, with considerable probability, that they were persons of a religious turn of mind, and well-wishers to him and his cause. Religion is not the topic which woi'ldly men select as the subject of confidential discourse : they mind earthly things, and make them the subject of conversation, for in them they take the deepest interest, and for them they have the deepest relish: theu* " speech bewray eth" them. A man who has no religion may talk about it in public, or when he has an end to serve ; to display his parts, or i-aise his character, or gain some worldly advantage : but when he has not some such excitement to call forth his eloquence, he will not voluntarily introduce a subject so uncongenial to his feehngs ; and should it be introduced by another, he will soon indicate the little relish he has for the subject, by his sudden silence and awk- ward gravity, or by the coldness and generality of his remarks, and his efforts to turn the discourse into a different channel. THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 247 A good man, however, is never more in his element than wlien Christ is the theme ; and the happiest moments of his life wiU be those in which, in the company of a chosen friend, he opens his heart, and unbosoms all his doubts, anxieties, and fears to one whom he considers like-minded with himself, and capable of instructing, counselling, or comforting him. The two men spoken of in the text, might, had they been irreligious characters, have talked of the character and death of Jesus, as the news of the day, and a subject with which, at that time, all Jeru- salem rang. But it would have been in a very different manner, and mth very different feelings. It would have been more the exercise of the tongue and of the understanding, than of the heart and affections. They would have speculated about him, detailing the opinions of others, and hazarding their OAvn conjectures ; but would not have anxiously inquired, as these men did, for the resolution of their own doubts, and the satis- faction of their own minds, as about a matter that concerned their peace and spiritual comfort. AYe see the piety of the two disciples in their employment on their journey ; we see a model of what followers of Christ ought to be, and of the manner in which they ought to act when they meet with others that feai" the Lord ; for Christians will not only study to be companions of them that fear God ; but they that truly fear him -will, like the good men of former times, " speak often one to another," knowing that " a book of remembrance is written for them that think on his name." — They were afterAvards joined by Jesus himself, and it is no matter of surprise that he continued the conversation in the channel in which it was now running, and opened to them the Scriptures. Jesus was re- markable in his former life for giving a spiritual turn to conversation which began on common topics ; and much more might he now be expected to continue a conversation in so profitable a channel. It is said, " out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh ;" and what was at all times so neai* the heart of the Lord Jesus, so constantly in his thoughts, as the death whereby he should glorify God and save his people? 248 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. And besides, who so fitted as he who is the great Prophet of the Church, and to whom " the Lord God gave the tongue of the learned, that he might know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary ;" and who so likely as he who loves his people's prosperity and peace, to lead their minds into a clearer knowledge of the truth, by opening unto them the Scriptures ? The conversation, therefore, was carried on first by persons whose hearts were interested in the subject, and secondly, by him who, of aU others, was best fitted to render it instructive and edifying. 3. The time when this conversation took place is no unim- portant circumstance. When happened it ? On the Lord's day ; on the first Lord's day on which the sun ever shone ; on that first day of the week, on the morning of which " the God of peace brought again from the dead the Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant;" that day of which it is eminently said by the royal prophet, " this is the day which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it ;" and which, firom that time forward, has been observed by the church as a day of sacred rest and holy joy. Religion may, with the greatest propriety, be made the subject of conversation on any day of the week ; for it is at all times the most interesting of subjects ; and good men will not consider it as out of place, to seize any convenient opportunity which they can find, to converse with their pious friends of the glory of Christ's kingdom, and talk of his Avondi'ous works. A religion which is periodical, which occupies no place in the thought or in the conversation, except on one day in the seven, can scarcely be conceived to be the religion of the heart. But surely, if discourse on the things of God is proper on other days, it is peculiarly proper on the first day of the week. It falls in with the design of the institution, it is in harmony with its appropriate exercises, and it is indeed a part of the proper duty of the christian Sabbath. Whereas, to speak our own words on God's holy day is, equally with doing our works upon it, a criminal intrusion on its proper employ- THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 249 ment, and an evidence that tlie Sabbath is not our delight. The conduct of the disciples rebukes the men whose hearts and tongues are so full of the world, that, instead of talking of Christ and his work of grace, they cannot refrain from carnal conversation on the Lord's day, even for the few minutes that are necessary to carry them fi'om the house of God to their homes. It holds out, how^ever, the most animating encourage- ment to all who devote the Sabbath to meditation or conversa- tion on divine things. The Master himself appeared while the servants were so laudibly employed ; he vouchsafed to indulge them with most delightful fellowship with himself, enlarged their acquaintance with divine things, by opening to them the Scriptures, and warmed their hearts with the subject of con- versation, so that they burned within them. It was indeed a well-spent Sabbath, a day never to be forgotten, a day better than a thousand spent in listless indolence, or unprofitable and worldly discourse ; a day, the exercises and the joys of which, Cleophas and his companion would feel sweet in their recollec- tion till their latest hours. 4. Nor is the place, where this conversation was carried on, nor, 5. its duration, altogether unworthy of remark. It was the solemn injunction of the lawgiver of Israel, that God's people should not only have divine things in their heart, but often in their mouth ; and, in particular, he says, " Thou shalt talk of them when thou sittest in the house, and w^hen thou walkest by the way." The two disciples, like good Israelites, followed the salutary advice of Moses. They talked by the way of the gi'eat events which had lately happened ; and not in an incidental manner, but prolonged their discourse, till they reached their journey's end. Yea, as they continued their discourse the subject opened on them, and grew in interest. Slowly as we may suppose they w^alked when engaged so sei'iously in discom'se, the road, though it was nearly eight miles from Jerusalem to Emmaus, and must have occupied them for several hours in travelling it, seemed too short for the subject, and too soon walked over ; so deeply 250 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. were they engaged, so much were they delighted with their employment, so much had they still to ask concerning Christ, and so much more were they anxious to hear. A sermon of an hour is as much as most of us are ahle to endiu'e, though Christ be the subject ; yea, a much shorter period, employed either in hearing or talking on this most interesting and most delightful subject, is so tiresome to many, that they are dis- posed to say, Wliat a weariness is it, when will it be over ? It is our want of relish that occasions us so soon to cloy. Did we enter into the subject with all our hearts ; did our hearts, like theirs, burn Avithin us, our feeling of pleasure, our high spiritual enjoyment, would make us, like them, wish rather to prolong the spiritual repast. "We see their wishes in their conduct. Loath to break off the subject, anxious to hear more from the lips of the wonderful stranger, who had so highly entertained them, they urged, " they constrained him to turn into the village, and abide with them ;" and they found in experience that what was delightful in its commencement, was still more so in its termination. Though the place was changed, the subject was the same; and the pleasures they experienced on the road, were swallowed up in the more transporting enjoyments which succeeded in the village of Emmaus itself. " For it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he took bread, and blessed it, and brake and gave unto them, and their eyes were opened, and they knew him ; and he vanished out of their sight." 0 the delight, the transports of such a conversation ! Too much to be long enjoyed without interi'uption on earth ; fitter for the temple of God above, where the heart will burn with a purer and more ardent flame ; and where it will be able to endure the heavenly fervour, ^vathout being consumed. " Hold, hold, Lord," cried one at a season of such enjoyinent, " lest this frail vessel burst." "Who would not be excited by such enjoyments, to copy the example of the two disciples, in the hope of some portion of their happi- ness ? Christ is an inexhaustible subject ; sufficient to occupy our thoughts, our tongues, I say not for a few hours, but for THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 251 ages unnumbered. This will, in fact, be the everlasting subject of the high discourse, yea, of the triumphant songs of the redeemed in heaven. The subject is so delightful, that it wiU occupy them witliout wearying ; and so rich and full, that it will be for ever new. More knowledge of Christ would prevent dull repetition in talking of him ; and more love would give new zest to the employment ; new light would break in upon our minds, as the meaning of Scripture opened to our ravished view ; and the heart kindling as Ave proceeded, the sacred fire would burn Avith new ardour, till we should cry out, " It is good for us to be here ;" " this is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." I intended to have called your attention, lastly, to the suitableness of the conversation, to the circumstances of the parties engaged in it ; but having occupied so much of your time ah'eady, I hasten to the second part of the subject, in the consideration of which what is most important on this point Avill occur. II. The effect of the conversation on Cleophas and his companion. They themselves describe it by saying, that it made " thek hearts burn within them." It is easier, perhaps, to form a general idea of what they intend by this strong and ardent expression, than distinctly to state it in words. It means, m general, that the conversation warmed their hearts, as well as enlightened their minds ; that they felt a divine energy accompany the words ; that it excited a glow of reli- gious affection ; and in particular, that it revived their languid faith, rekindled the flame of love to the Saviour, reanimated their almost expiring hojies, and produced a sacred pleasure, " a joy unspeakable, and full of glory," in their souls, such as they had never experienced before. Let us examine into their feelings then on the occasion. 1. When they say that their hearts burned within them, they intimate that the conversation not only enlightened their minds, but wanned their hearts. That which burns has heat as 252 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. well as light ; and the union of the two is necessary to all solid and spiritual advantage from those religious exercises in which we engage. It fares ill with the man in whom these are separated ; his religion, in either case, is not the religion that wiU save his soul. A religion which exists only in the understanding, which consists only in a systematic speculative acquaintance with the truth, will neither sanctify nor save. It may puff up, but it does not edify. It may qualify the person to be useful to others, but is unprofitable to himself ; may enable him to gain the victory in a dispute, but not to gain victory over his own corruptions. Ah ! how much of this religion is to be found in the world ; clear perhaps as crystal, but cold as ice ! How many champions of orthodoxy, enlightened and furious defenders of the truth, but "heady, high- minded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God ; having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof." There is light enough of this kind in hell ; the devils know the doctrine of the gospel, but they love not the truth ; they believe, and yet tremble. On the other hand, a religion which exists only in the imagination, the passions, and affections, which is all heat, but no light, is not the religion of gracious souls. Christ wiU not own it ; for his service is a reasonable service ; faith in him is founded on knowledge of his character and doctrine, and genuine love to him, the fruit of the soul's discovery of his matchless excellences and worth. Such religion is not the religion that becomes rational creatures, whose judgment ought to govern, not their passions ; and who ought ever to be able to say, We know what we worship. Such a blind religion, hot, but dark, where men feel strongly, but " under- stand not what they speak, nor whereof they affirm," is mere animal passion, excited by the operation of sounds which strike the ear, or by lively pictures, presented to the imagina- tion, and may be expected to last no longer than till the animal spirits subside, and the impression wears off which produced the strong feeling. This is at best but enthusiasm, and is equally found to operate on those who profess a false THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS, 253 religion, as on those who profess the true ; and rather inflames the bad passions of the heart, than enables the person to mortify and subdue them. The conversation on the way to Emmaus, produced on the two disciples an eifect which was the happy medium between these two extremes. They received important information from their fellow- traveller ; but the knowledge communicated did not rest in their understandings ; it descended into the heart, and diffused the sacred warmth of genuine religious affection through their soul ; while the light shone, the fire burned within. On the other hand, it was no enthusiastic heat that now burned within them ; for it was the effect of knowledge communi- cated to their minds. What produced it? It Avas while Jesus, in the course of the conversation, " opened unto them the Scriptures;" and in consequence of then- understanding the meaning of the Scriptures, in reference to the character and sufferuigs and death of Christ, that they felt the heat of true devotion begin to glow in their breasts. First their eyes were opened to perceive the truth in some measure of its glory, and then their hearts were affected by it. Would to God that our religion were of this happy description ; that we were equally removed from the chilly coldness of a merely speculative religion, and from the heat of enthusiastic delusion, that strange fire which is not kindled at the altar of God, and leads multitudes astray to their ruin ! O that we knew more of Christ, and felt more of the power of the truth on our hearts ! that there were not only more light in our understandings, but more warmth of pious feeling in our hearts ! 2. When they say that their hearts bunied within them, they intimate that they felt a divine energy accompanying the words upon their hearts. Whence was it that while Jesus spake, they felt the fire burn within them ? Was it the mere effect of the strength of his reasoning, and the persuasive eloquence of his address ? Eloquence has often been kno^ATi, not only to give inconceivable delight to the hearers, but to 254 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. cai'ry them before it like an irresistible torrent, and to agitate the passions with the utmost violence of excitement. And Jesus truly spake " as never man spake," with a divine authority, a heavenly eloquence that often made men " won- der at the gi'acious words which proceeded out of his mouth." But eloquence, and the utmost power of moral suasion, even the eloquence of an angel, is insufficient to quicken the dead soul of the sinner, or to revive the languid soul of the saint. The eloquence of Jesus was often expended on persons who were rather irritated, than benefited by his discoui'se. Some- thing more than eloquence was here, else the hearts of the two disciples would have remained cold and dead. "It is the Spirit that quickeneth," and givetli life ; and had not the divine power of the Spirit of God attended Jesus' words, light would not have been able to penetrate into their minds Avhilst he doctrinally opened to them the Scriptures, nor would the fire of pure and genuine devotion have burned in their hearts. " Is not my word like a fire, saith the Lord ? " Yes, but it is the Spirit of the Lord that causes it to burn. The same ser- mon, the same religious conversation, warms the heart of one, and leaves another unimpressed, unedified, just as the divine energy of the Spirit of God accompanies it or not ; it is effica- cious for this purpose only when it "comes with demonstration of the Spirit and with power." In this case, the greatness of the effect leads our minds to the cause : God was here. His Spirit sent the word home with power on their hearts ; the wind of heaven, which bloweth when and where it listeth, blew on the latent spark of grace, which was already lodged in their hearts, and kindled it into a flame ; so that what had little light and little heat, like smoking flax, blazed in their souls, at once enlightening and warming them. O, that this divine energy may accompany what we now speak ! Then might I hope that I would not preach, nor you hear, in vain. The fire of heaven would begin to burn in our cold hearts, a fire which would enlighten, would purify, would warm and comfort us, and which should never utterly be extinguished. THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 2oO but burn with increasing ardour, till the soul, all on fire, should enter the place of light, love, and joy. 3. Their hearts burned within them, for a glow of religious affection was excited by the conversation. The subject of conversation was eminently calculated to warm and enliven their hearts. For what can be conceived more interesting to men who are conscious of guilt, than conversation about the method of grace, and that blessed person, on whom all their hopes for eternity depend? What more calculated to rouse the attention, and excite hope and joy in the breast, than to hear of the intimations God gave to ancient saints in promises, types, and innumerable predictions of his design of mercy to our guilty race, and of his performance " of the mercy promised unto the fathers ? " Christ promised, and Christ given, was the theme of discourse ; the correspondence between the type and the antitype, the predictions which went before, and the actual history of events. These are subjects which " come home to every man's business and bosom ;" not matters of abstract speculation and remote concern, but which concern the life, the comfort, the salvation of the precious soul ; which, if anything can, are fitted to interest all the affections of the heart. In the case of the two disciples it was so. They Avere prepared for the conversation, if not by knowledge of the mean- ing of Scripture, yet by familiarity with its words. That prin- ciple of gi'ace implanted in their hearts, which, though small, was yet genuine, prepared them to relish the subject. • And the deep interest they had taken in what befell Jesus, and the racking anxiety of their minds about the intention and the issue of the mysterious dispensations of Providence towards him, gave a peculiar seasonableness to the subject, and made the informa- tion communicated particularly acceptable. Thus prepared, the Spirit of him that spake gave force to Jesus' words, and as " the spirit of judgment and the spirit of burning," made their hearts catch fire as he unfolded the truths of Scripture which concerned himself. Their hearts burned as his lips spake. Touched with a hot coal from the altar of God, every devout 256 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. feeling was moved, every pious affection was stii'red up, and acted with energy. In particular, their languid and almost dying faith revived. That they were partakers of the faith of God's elect before this conversation commenced, is evident from a variety of considera- tions. But that their faith was sadly shaken by the late events, and almost ready to fail, is equally apparent fi'om their cowar- dice in abandoning him in his last sufferings, and particularly from their manner of expression when Jesus met them by the way : " We trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel : and, besides all this, to-day is the third day since these things Avere done." Li this state of mind their Lord found them when he commenced conversation with them ; and sure if ever there was a period when they needed the pre- sence and the counsels of their best fi-iend, it was now when their minds were harassed by doubts, and they seemed ready to abandon the faith altogether. O, how seasonable the visit ! how kind to step forward for their help in the time of their need ! He is never an indifferent spectator of his people's embarrassments, perplexities, and doubts. He feels for them, and the time of their extremity is the time of his opportunity to help. He might at once, for he has power over the spirits of all flesh, have made a ray of divine light dart into their dark and troubled minds, and instantaneously and miraculously scattered the clouds that covered them. But he has instituted means, and it is ordinary with him to honour the means he has appointed, by making them subservient both to the implantation and revival of grace. . He enters into conversation Avith them, and sanctions and encourages religious conversation, by blessing it to the disciples for their recovery and establishment in the faith. He directs their attention to the Scri2)tures of truth, assists them in comparing scripture Avith scripture, the pre- dictions and prefigurations of the Old Testament with the facts recorded in the Ncav ; and encourages our diligence in searcli- ing the Scriptures by the evident blessing Avhich at this time attended it. He mingles reproofs Avith arguments ; rebukes THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 257 their unbelief, while he demonstrates its unreasonableness " 0 fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken ! " Light pours in upon their minds as he speaks ! — the Spirit of faith enters with his words ; the clouds are scat- tered ; the dying embers burst into a flame ; they doubt no more. But this is not all. In the burning of their hearts is included the rekindling of the Jlame of love to the Saviour. The two disciples truly loved him ; and their love occasioned the sadness of their counte- nances, and the sori'ow of their hearts, at the thoughts of his sufferings and death. But love is the daughter of faith, and must not then love have declined as their faith languished ? The conversation of Jesus was calculated to produce the revival of both. Must not their hearts have warmed to the stranger in proportion as they felt delight, and derived edification from his discourse ? Such conversation is calculated to excite and strengthen brotherly love among saints. But, in particular, how must the love of Christ have burned in their hearts, when the glories of his character, and the divine benevolence of his heart was laid open before them from the Scriptures of truth ! "When they were taught that their salvation was the end of all his sufferings and pains ; that for this purpose he was born, and lived, and died, that he might redeem them from death ; that never would he have experienced sorrow, had it not been for their sakes ; that he was constrained by the ardour of his affection to expose himself to sufferings which he saw to be necessary for their welfare ; and that aU this he endured when, had he loved them less, he might have escaped all ; when all this was displayed to their minds, while he opened to them the Scriptures, how must the flame of love to the kind, the dear Redeemer, have burned in theii' hearts ! More knowledge of his character, office, and Avork, would produce greater love to the divine SaAnour. It is because Ave knoAV so little of his grace, that we feel so little of the ardour of affection to this infinitely amiable and lovely One. Aaid O, how happy an effect of our talking about Christ, and our hearing about him, if it 258 THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. cause our hearts thus to burn ! We cannot think of him too highly, or love him too well. Our love, when the fire burns brightest, and aU the soul seems to be on flame, falls far short of that ardent attachment which his high merits deserve. When their hearts burned, their nearly -exinring hojjes icei'C reanimated. "NVTiat lively hopes could men have of salvation by a Saviour who seemed to them to have failed in his work, and to have been cut off by death from attaining the generous purpose of his heart ? What hope of etenial life from a dead Saviour, if we knew not that he has risen and revived ? But now that they saw from the Scriptures the necessity both of his sufferings and his glory, they felt disposed to credit the testi- mony of the godly women, who that morning assured them that they had seen a vision of angels who said to them that he was alive ; to believe that he died not in vain, but was risen as he said. Reviving hope cheei'ed, warmed, reanimated their fainting spirits ; a hope full of immortality, a hope that maketh not ashamed, and invigorates the soul for doing and for suffer- ing -without dismay. Happy they that feel this hope ! It is to them as life from the dead. It kindles a burning desire in the heart to see Christ, to enjoy his company ; a blessed expectation of being with him, and being happy ; not the desire and hope merely of seeing him alive again in this world, as in the case of these disciples, but the hope of being like him, and enjoying him for ever. In the burning of the heart is included the pleasure they felt, the joy unspeakable and full of glory which diffused itself through their souls on this happy occasion. Can they be other than happy who see the wonders of redeeming love, and feel its powerful influence? other than happy Avho believe that for them Jesus died, and for them he now lives ? The joys of religion are not only the most rational, but the most delightful of all joys, the most solid and substantial, the most durable and lasting. An hour of them is worth all the joys of the sinner when he revels in the pleasures of sin ; and such joys are the fruit, the pleasant fruits which may be expected from THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 259 believing discoveries of Christ as revealed in the Scriptures. Who would not read, and meditate, and converse, and hear with eager attention what is calculated by the divine blessing to produce such blessed effects ? In a word, in this burning of the heart is included zeal to testify of Christ, and by every means in one's power to serve him. The two disciples felt the fire of holy zeal burn in their bosoms ; and as the token of it, they hastened back to Jerusa- lem, though eight miles off, that same evening to communicate their information and their joys to their brethren. Such was the conversation, and such its effects. How happy the men that felt them ! and how happy we, if we shall this day be partakers of like joys ! "We may expect his presence, for he is alive ; he has instituted these ordinances ; he has promised his presence and blessing ; he has often made himself kno^vn to his disciples in times past in his ordi- nances, and caused tlieu' hearts to burn. But let us enter into the duties with the heart. Let us pray for his presence and Spirit. " Oh, that thou wouldest rend the heavens, and come down, that the mountains might flow do^vn at thy presence ! " Amen. 260 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN VIII. THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN FORSAIUNG THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 1 Samuel viii. 3. — "And his sons walked not in his ways/' PART I. The text gives us in few words, a summary of the character of two young men, Joel and Abiah, Avhose misconduct at once entailed disgrace on themselves, and brought many calamities on their country. Their father Samuel had, for many years, acted in the double capacity of a prophet of the Lord, and of chief magistrate or judge of Israel, and had acquired deserved reputation for eminent piety and unsullied integrity. He was now become old and infirm, and less capable than in former times for those active laboui's which his office required. He needed assistance in the administration of aiFairs ; and the people consented to his assumption of his sons into a share of the government, partly, we may suppose, out of respect to their venerable judge, and, partly, from the very natural hope that young men, educated under his eye, and over whose con- duct he might be supposed to have great control, would possess some portion of his spirit, and copy his example. The event disappointed their hopes. It soon appeared, that if Joel and Abiah possessed talent, they were destitute of prin- ciple, for they employed their power, not like tlieir fatlier, as the means of promoting the public benefit, but of ad\ancing their own private interest. The immorality and profligacy of their lives, and still moi-e their corrupt administration of government, their flagrant injustice, avarice, and tyranny, FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 261 excited general discontent in Israel. The father Avas blamed for the vices of his sons, and through their means had nearly lost that reputation and influence which he had acquired by the labours and conscientious fidelity of a long life. The people, unable to sufier longer their oppression, resolved unanimously to throw off the yoke, and rid themselves of magistrates who had proved themselves so unworthy of their ti'ust. They summoned, as we would say, a convention of the estates. The elders of Israel, or chief men of the different tribes, convened from all parts of the country, to deliberate on the measures proper to be taken in the present emergency. When assembled, as often happens in such cases, they seem to have been governed rather by passion than by sober judg- ment, in the resolutions which they formed. They carried their indignation beyond all reasonable bounds ; for instead of satisfying themselves with a temperate reform of the existing abuses, with the removal of the obnoxious and unworthy individuals from office, and with adopting prudent regulations to prevent the recurrence of like enormities in future, they conceived a dislike to the constitution of their country, which these corrupt judges had violated, and hastily resolved on a total change of the form of government ; and such a change too, as a little consideration must have shown, was at once ungrateful to God, the King of Israel, and calculated to aggravate the evils of which they complained. " They said" (verse 5) " unto Samuel, Behold thou art old, and thy sons walk not in thy ways ; now make us a king to judge us like all the nations." Whether Samuel was at all to blame as the occasion of this rash determination of the elders of Israel, or in what degree, we have not such information in Scripture as to enable us to judge. Perhaps the partiality of a parent (so natural, so common, and so fatal in its consequences) had blinded the good man to the faults of his sons, so that he pushed them into office, for which all but himself saw them to be most unfit. Or, perhaps, the young men, though promising enough 262 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN in their earlier years, were coiTupted by sudden elevation, and their father, not perceiving their faults, or not believing the testimony of others concerning them, could not be prevailed on to censure their conduct with due severity, nor, when at length they persevered in it, to remove them from their station. What concerns us at present, is the melancholy fact recorded in the text regarding the young men, namely, that the sons of Samuel walked not in their father's ways ; that is to say, their manner of conduct, both in private life, and in their public station, was the very reverse of that of their venerable parent. From his youth, he had been truly and eminently pious, and, as the natural consequence of it, had been sober and regular in his private deportment, and upright in his public administration as a magistrate ; but they, on the contrary, were " sons of Belial," " neither fearing God, nor I'egarding man ; " without religion, and without sobriety as men, and without honour, without conscience, and without integrity as judges. My intention, in this discourse, is to consider the general point, that the children of good men do not always WALK IN THEIR PARENTS' AVATS ; and with this view, first, to speak of the fact ; then inquire into the causes of it ; and, thirdly, consider the consequences of it ; after which, I shall conclude -wath calling your attention to the practical instruc- tions which the subject suggests. I. "With respect to the fact itself, I have only to remark, that it is by no means a rare occurrence, and however much to be de- plored, ought not to excite surprise in those who believe the cor- ruption of human nature, and the sovereignty of divine grace. 1. I say, that it is by no means a rare occurrence for the children of good men not to walk in their parents' ways. It is universally the anxious wish and endeavour of parents who themselves fear God, that their children should in like manner fear and serve him all the days of their life ; for I cannot conceive how a parent, who has " the root of the matter in FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 263 him," can be indifferent, Avhether the children of his body- serve God or the world, be saved or lost. But mournful experience shows, that their prayers for their spiritual benefit are not always heard, nor their endeavours always successful. Some childi-en continue deaf to their parents' instructions, and insensible to their most earnest entreaties, discovering a per- versity of temper, and propensity to whatever is bad, which neither gentleness can gain, nor discipline subdue, and which augurs ill respecting their future character and conduct in life. "While others, after the fairest promises during childhood, after hopes have been excited by their tractableness for awhile, by their obedience, diligence, and progress in learning, suddenly cast off fear, disappoint the sanguine expectations of their parents and fi'iends, and abandon themselves to folly and vice. It was not the peculiar afiiiction of Samuel, to have sons whose consciences he could not impress with the fear of God, and a sense of eternal things. Many of his forefathers had been tried in the same way. It was early seen that grace is not hereditary, and that the children of the very best men have not always the wisdom to " choose that good part which shall never be taken from them." In the family of Adam, there was a Cain, a miu'derer ; in that of Noah, a Ham, who mocked his father, and insulted his infirmities ; in that of Abraham, an Ishmael, a scoffer at religion ; and in that of Isaac, a "profane Esau, who sold his birthright" for a mess of pottage. An incestuous Reuben, and a treacherous and bloody Simeon and Levi, distressed the heart of good old Jacob ; two drunkards, Nadab and Abihu, were found in the family of Aaron, " the saint of God ; " and two debauched young men, Hophni and Phineas, brought disgrace and ruin on the house of Eli. And sure I need not proceed to quote in.'jtances that have happened since Samuel's day, of a fact confirmed by the melancholy experience of every age. Many a parent, besides David, has had reason, on his deathbed, to complain that his "house was not so with God," as he wished, and once expected, and that " God made it not to grow " in 264 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN religion. We have only to open our eyes, in order to see children of eminent saints, who have renounced their fathers' religion, and their fathers' God ; who, though diligently instructed in religion in their parents' houses, and earnestly and often urged to give their hearts to God, are now open " enemies to the cross of Christ ; whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things." 2. I added, that the frequent occurrence of this melancholy fact, however much it is to be deplored, need excite no surprise in those who believe the corruption of human nature, and the sovereignty of divine grace. Such events are to be deplored ; but they are proofs of the doctrine of Scripture, that human nature is radically corrupted, and that even from the womb we are estranged from God, and prone to turn aside. Is this corruption peculiar to some, or common to all ? It is common to all, to the children of saints, as well as those of sinners. The Lord, who " looks dowai from heaven and beholds all the children of men," sees no difference between the one and the other. He pronounces one common sentence : " They have all gone aside, they are altogether become filthy ; there is none that doeth good, no, not one." Were the children of good men uniformly to be religious, we might suspect the universality of the corruption of human nature, or ignorantly imagine that the impurity of nature in these cases was corrected by the grace of the parents, or washed away in the water of baptism, or that the corrupt bias is removed by education and example. But when we look into the families of the godly, and find the same bad dispositions showing themselves in their children as in those of others, even in childhood, and the same ahenation to the things of God early discovering itself, in their unteachable- ness, and propensity to evil, we learn the truth of our Lord's declaration, " that which is born of the flesh is flesh;" and that true religion is the effect not of the first, but of the second birth. The children of the godly are " by nature the children of wrath even as others." They enjoy, it is true, great advan- FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 265 tages of whicli others are deprived, means of grace and salva- tion from their earliest days. But the means are not ahvays effectual. Persons grown up to the years of discretion sit for many years without spiritual profit, under that gospel which is blessed for the conversion and salvation of others, because the special power of the divine Spirit does not accompany the means to render them effectual for their benefit. So happens it often with the children of the godly. Under the law they were circumcised, and under the gospel are baptised, and " trained up in the way in which they should go." and yet they often continue strangers to true religion, because the special blessing has been withheld. Something more is neces- sary to salvation than parents can confer, a change of heart ; " the new heart and the right spirit;" a change which the spirit of God alone can accomplish either in young or old, and which, though it is ordinarily produced by the use of appointed means, does not uniformly, and in all instances, accompany the means, that we may learn not to rest in them, but to revere the sovereignty of divine grace, and look to God for his efiicacious blessing. n. Let me now enquire into the causes why the children of godly parents often do not walk in their parents' ways. I have already said that this is to be accounted for from the corruption of human nature manifesting itself in them, and leading them to depart from God, and from the withholding of that special influence of the Spirit without which there can be no true religion. But there are certain suboi'dinate causes of the melancholy fact, to which it may be profitable to attend. Among these may be enumerated the untender walk of their parents, faults in their education, the infection of bad example, and the corrupting influence of bad company. 1. The untender and uncircumspect conversation of parents has a most unhappy effect on the minds of the young. If parents are partakers of the grace of God in truth, thefr conversation will on the whole be such as becometh godliness. But while 266 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN imperfections cleave to the best, who knoAvs not that many whom we dare not disown as brethren in Christ, fall far short of that strict guard over then- passions, their tongues and their conversation, which "becomes the gospel of Christ?" One is sullen, another peevish, and another passionate ; and the slightest occasion is sufficient to lead them to complain without reason of their childi-en, or break out against them in some most intemperate sally of passion, or treat them wnth most unbecoming harshness and severity. Is not such conduct in direct violation of the apostle's precept, " Fathers pi-ovoke not your children to anger lest they be discouraged ? " And under what disadvantages must such parents lie, in their endeavours to promote the spiritual benefit of their childi-en 1 Must not tlie young recollect the conduct of their parents, when they are exhorted to set a bridle on their passions or their tongues, and be in danger of giving little heed to religious instructions which have apparently so little influence on them that give them ? In like manner, how can we expect that our children shall profit by our exhortations to attend to the gi-eat concerns of the soul and eternity, if they see us eagerly grasping at the world, and almost entirely swallowed up with the care of things that perish ? Or can we reasonably hope that they will pay serious attention to the duties of religion, if every trifling reason is a sufficient excuse for our neglect of them ourselves, or if, though we do not altogether omit the form, we observe it in a cold, customary, and careless kreverent manner ? Be assured of it, you do the most essential injury to your chikben, when you are uncircumspect in your walk. They have eyes to observe what you do, and ears to hear AAdiat you say, and are prone to imitate the conduct of those around them. They will think it a sufficient justification of themselves, if they can quote the example of their parents ; and such is the corrup- tion of human nature, that they Avill more readily copy what is bad in your example, than what is good and praiseworthy. In how many instances may we ascribe the ruin of children to the conduct of their parents ? to their bad tempers, their FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 267 worldly turn of mind, their frequent neglect of e^ddent duty, or their careless and irreverent performance of it. It is not good instruction and advice that will coi-rect the evil ; the bad example AviU be followed, and the good advice despised or neglected. As, therefore, you wish the temporal, the eternal welfere of your oiFspring, and would wish to be free of their blood, set them, in temper, in words, in conduct, such a pattern as you desire them to follow. Let them see that you hate the evils against which you warn them, and believe and love that religion to which you urge their attention. 2. Faults in their education have the most pernicious conse- quences on the religious character of the young. Among such faults may be enumerated, unjust partiality, and either undue indulgence or excessive severity. Perhaps the unreason- able partiality of Isaac for his eldest son Esau, and of Rebecca for her younger son Jacob ; a partiality apparently founded only on the greater subserviency of the one than the other to his father's pleasures, was the source of much of the distress of the patriarch's family, and one chief cause of the evident irreligion of the favourite. Undue indulgence seems to have been the en'or of David, and the ruin of his son Adonijah. " His father," we are told, " had not displeased" the young man " at any time, in saying, why hast thou done so ? " and he thus unintentionally cherished in his son those passions, and suffered those habits to take deep root, and acquire an almost irresistible strength, which prudent attention, and the seasonable exercise of parental authority, might have nipped in the bud. It was the sin of Eli that he held the reins of discipline with too slack a hand; his sons " made themselves vile, and he restrained them not." How true is it, that " a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame;" and that parents are never more really cruel to their children, than when by mistaken lenity they do not correct, or by excessive indulgence permit, what yet they cannot approve. Yet there is an eri'or not less fatal, and perhaps as common, on the other hand ; when excessive severity is employed ; when reasonable 268 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN indulgences are refused, small faults severely corrected and beyond their deserts, and the business of education niade an intolerable burden by the greatness of the tasks, and the rigour wath -which they are exacted. " Wisdom," doubtless, in these matters, " is profitable to direct;" but many are the cases, I doubt not, in which children contract an early aversion to education, and indeed a dislike to every thing that is good by such injudicious conduct. It is an eiTor into which the best men perhaps are most prone to fall. In their anxiety for their childi'en's welfare, they are apt to demand, and to expect, more than can be reasonably looked for at thek time of life. They address them more in the tone of authority than in that of gentleness and persuasion. Their austerity of manner spreads a gloom around religion, which ought rather to be ex- hibited to the young in its most amiable form, that they may be won over to it by the consideration that its " ways are ways of pleasantness." The rigour of restraint, and the weight of the burdens imposed on them, dispose them to seize with avidity the moment when they escape from their parents' control, and perhaps run into a greater excess of riot and intemperance than if they had not been so closely watched. "We need not go far to see such consequences following such eiTors in the religious education of the young, or to hear the undue severity of parents quoted as the cause of a disgust taken at religion in youth. Our business is to profit by the error of others, and to look to Him who hath said, " If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of Him who giveth liberally and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him." 3. The influence of bad excunple often corrupts the children of good men. Although the young should see nothing in the house of their parents, but what is amiable and praiseworthy, and calculated to make the best impressions on their hearts in early life, and although they have been carefully instructed, and with a judicious attention to their temper and time of life, yet they are exposed to great, to imminent danger, from the example of others around them. In every neighbourhood. FORSAKING THEIR FATHER'S WAYS. 269 there are persons careless at once of themselves, and of their children, who corrupt their children by the example of their own impiety and dissipation, and suffer them to be yet more cori'upted, by a total inattention to their education and their morals. A young pei'son can scarcely go abroad, without hearing from the lijjs of others of his own age, the language of blasphemy or of gross indecency, and without seeing actions performed by them of the most wicked and abandoned kind. And is there no danger of uttering the language which they daily hear, and imitating the actions which are daily passing before their eyes ? If it be true, that " one sinner destroy eth much good," what must be the danger when " the wicked walk on every side," and where "iniquity abounds?" When we consider the inexperience of their age, and, moreover, their proneness to imitation, and the tendency of our coiTupt nature to evil, we need not be surprised, if it sometimes happens that they catch the infection which spreads around them, and " follow the multitude in doing evil." The family of the " righteous Lot" learned thus the manners of Sodom, in which they dwelt ; and the children of Israel by residence in Egypt, a land full of idols, acquired those superstitious and idolatrous habits which discovered themselves so often in the wilderness, and cost them so dear ; and is it any wonder if the children of the godly, having example of all manner of impiety and wicked- ness daily before them, should not always escape, but some- times learn of the wicked their way ? "What caution is neces- sary on the part of parents, what vigilance and circumspection, to guard the young against such dangers, warning them of the evil which they hear and see, and checking the first tendencies to conduct, which is at once disgraceful and ruinous ! 4. Bad company almost always produces the same unhappy effects ; and to bad company they are exposed, at play, at school, at trades. Scripture and experience concur in shoAving the danger of wicked companions. If we listen to the language of scripture, it is most explicit ; " Evil communications corrupt good manners." " He that walketh with wise men, shall be 270 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN •wise, but a companion of fools shall be destroyed." And if we consult experience, we shall find that the ruin of multitudes has proceeded from their want of caution in the company they keep, and the companions with whom they associate. " Can a man take fire in his bosom and his clothes not be burnt ? Can one go upon hot coals and his feet not be burnt ? " So one cannot vriih safety to himself associate with the A\ncked, or without the most imminent danger of joining with them in their wicked courses. How many a hopeful youth has been thus ensnared, and fallen short of heaven at last ! He has been taught to get over first one scruple, and then another, to think light of what he was once taught to abhor, to use liberties at which he would have at first shuddered, till he has at length given himself up the willing servant of sin, and been ruined both in soul and body, both for time and eternity. Let no man presume on his own strength, or say, " Am I a dog that I should do this thing ? " Self-confidence in every case is dangerous ; and what are you more than others that you should be able to resist when others have been overcome, and to stand when others have fallen ? " My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. If they say, Come with us, my son, walk not thou in the way with them, refi-ain thy foot from their paths, for their feet run to evil. If you do not, you will ere long speak their language, and do their deeds. Let parents be moderate in their expectations, and diligent in their endeavours Let young persons be cautious and humble-minded, and given to prayer Look to God as their Keeper, and commit their way to him Let all contemplate the corruption of nature; the so- vereignty of grace; the inefficacy of means '^^^tllout the divine blessing, and the necessity of a change of heart FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 271 IX. THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 1 Samuel viil. 3. — " And his sons walked not in his ways." The character and conduct of Samuel's sons are stated in the text in contrast with that of their father ; and we can only learn what sort of men they were, by considering what is recorded of the venerable person to whom they were so unlike. Now, the two most prominent features in his character are, piety in private, and uprightness and integi'ity in public life. His personal piety we are not left to infer from his mother's dedication of him to the ser\nce of God from the womb, nor from his oiRcial attendance on the altar from the time that he was a chUd ; for many are the instances of children who have been early dedicated to God by their parents, and have not " given him their hearts : " and many the instances of persons who, from a very early period of life, have been officially employed in the service of God as the duty of their station, and have all the while " worshipped an unknown God." "VVe are taught it by other circumstances, repeatedly affirmed con- cei'ning him in his childhood, that " the child Samuel grew on, and was in favour both with, the Lord, and also vnih men ;" and, again, " that Samuel grew, and the Lord was with him," and by what is at a future period of his life recorded concerning the fi-equency, the fervour, and the success of his prayers. His history is full of instances of this ; and David makes honourable 272 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN mention of this part of his character, long after his decease, quoting him in the 99th Psalm among those saints who were eminent in their generation for the exercise of prayer, and examples of its efficacy. "Moses," he says, "and Aaron among his priests, and Samuel among them that call upon his name ; they called upon the Lord, and he answered them. He spake unto them in the cloudy pillar ; they kept his testimonies and the ordinances that he gave them.". Of the other part of Samuel's character, his uprightness and integrity in public life, I need certainly appeal only to the noble and manly chal- leno^e which he gave in the face of assembled Israel, when he resigned the administration into the hands of Saul, to any individual to impeach his conduct. " Samuel said unto all Israel, I have walked before you from my childhood unto this day, Behold here I am ; witness against me before the Lord and before his anointed, whose ox have I taken ? or whose ass have I taken ? or whom have I defrauded ? whom have I oppressed ? or of whose hand have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes therewith ? and I will restore it you. And they said, Thou hast not defi'auded us nor oppressed us, neither hast thou taken ought of any man's hand." How unlike the father to his unworthy and degenerate sons ! Men who " turned aside after lucre, and took bribes, and perverted judgment ;" and who must have been utterly destitute of religious principle and feeling, before they could become so depraved in conduct ! Though sprung of his loins, and edu- cated under his eye, " they walked not in his ways," because they were utter strangers to his religion. In my former discourse, I proposed to do three things : First, to speak of the fact, that the children of good men do not always walk in their parents' ways ; secondly, to inquire into the causes of it ; and, thirdly, to consider its consequences. I have already spoken of the fact, and observed first, that it is by no means a rare occurrence, many instances standing on record in Scripture, and presenting themselves to us in ordinary life, of the childi'cn of good men Avho abandon their parents' FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 273 religion, and " follow the multitude to do evil;" and secondly, that however much it is to be deplored, it ought not to surprise those who believe the corruption of human nature, and the sovereignty of divine grace, both of which truths are illustrated and confirmed by such mournful occurrences. I proceeded to the second part of the subject, to inquire into the causes or occasions of this ; and particularly noticed four, the untender or uncircumspect walk of their parents, faults committed by them in their education, the infection of bad example, and the corrupting influence of bad compiiny. These are by no means the only causes of an event which we have occasion so often to observe, and to lament. Many others concur in producing it; and, as the subject is important, and the further illustration of it, may be useful through the blessing of God, especially to the younger part of my audience, I shall direct your attention to the folloAving additional particulars ; want of occupation, bad advice, the influence of fashion, and the allurements of the world. 1. Want of occupation is the ruin of multitudes of the young. I do not mean to say that children should be cooped up at home, continually employed in serious studies, or grave occu- pations, and denied all leisure for recreation and innocent amusement. This would be prejudicial to their health, and would check that natural vivacity of temper which is essential to the future vigour of their minds, and their activity in the business of life ; and judicious parents will endeavour to regu- late the measure of their children's occupation by a prudent attention to their constitution of body, their temper and turn of mind, and their time of life. But what I mean to say is, that those who suffer their children to grow up in total, or nearly total idleness, who permit them to have a great deal of time of which they are at a loss to dispose, act towards them a very unkind and cruel part, and suffer in the spring-time of life noxious weeds to take root and acquire vigour, which, perhaps, all their future diligence will be unable to subdue. The danger of idleness to the young is greater in proportion to 274 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN their time of life ; and what may, perhaps, do very inconsider- able injury to the mere child, may be the ruin for time and eternity of the gi'own boy or girl. Not only is education neglected in its proper season, but an aversion to the restraint which it requires is contracted, and a dissipation of mind pro- duced, which indisposes the individual, who has been suffered long to run loose, to all settled occupation, and perhaps, at a future time, leads to consequences the most afflicting. Besides, along with habits of idleness thus early contracted, the young, sauntering about without employment, are tempted to associate with others as idle, and perhaps worse than themselves, and early acquire the worst principles, and contract the worst habits. Are there no parents now hearing me, who feel themselves reproved for such very culpable negligence towards their children, and Avho now reap the bitter fruits of it in their children's unsettledness of temper, and disinclination to all virtuous and honourable employment ? Or are there none of those who infest our streets, melancholy instances of early progress in dissipation and vice, whose parents feared God, but who prepared them for this by suffering them to roam abroad without object or guide, at a time, too, when they ought to have been acquiring useful education, or learning some useful employment? Let those who wish either the temporal or spiritual welfare of their children take warning. Let them remember that God in his mercy did not suffer innocent Adam to be idle even in Paradise, and much more must idleness be dangerous, with such hearts as these, and in a world like this, and at a period of life when the passions are strong, and experience small. Let them remember, that this was the sin and the ruin of Sodom, " abundance of idleness was in her and in her daughters ; " and that if mercy prevent not, the same effects may be expected to follow from the same cause. 2. Bad advice often leads the young astray. We have sevenil memorable examples of its pernicious influence on the young and inexperienced recorded in Scripture history, as a warning FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 275 to others to beware. The son of the wise Solomon hath left himself with all succeeding generations the reputation of a fool, in consequence of his listening to the counsel of the raw and inconsiderate " young men who had been brought up with him," instead of the sage advice of " the old men who had stood before Solomon his father," and been trained in the school of political Avisdom under the best of teachers. But it is not into political errors merely that the young are apt to fall by a too great easiness of nature in following imprudent counsel ; errors which may stand in the way of their worldly interest, and occasion them afterwards many calamities and much bitter regret. There are not awanting those who, under the specious pretence of friendship, intrude their advice on the young, and "become their counsellors to do wickedly;" not satisfied with being wicked and irreligious themselves, they exert all their ingenuity, and employ all their influence, to corrupt others ; they seem to take a peculiar pleasure in debauching the principles of those who have been soberly and religiously educated, like the Phai'isees of old " compassing sea and land to gain proselytes " to their opinions and practice, and when they succeed, " making them twofold more the children of hell than themselves ; " willing and active agents of the devil, who labour to " deceive the hearts of the simple," and like their father " go about seeking to destroy." Such persons were but too successful with Ahaziah the King of Judah. His mother's relations, for she was of a worthless family, of the house of Ahab, took the advantage of their relationship, after his father's death, to offer their advice, and succeeded in corrupting him ; " they were his counsellors," we are told, " after the death of his father to his destruction." By such means too was the ruin of Joash, the young and promising King of Judah, effected. He was not indeed the son of a good man, but he lost his father Avhile an infant, and was educated under the eye of Jehoiada the priest, who acted a father's part towards him, and trained him up in the fear of the Lord. During the lifetime of that venerable man, of whom it is said that " he had done good in 276 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN Israel both towards God and towards his house," Joash reigned well ; " he did that which was right in the sight of the Lord all the days of Jehoiada the priest." But no sooner had the aged saint departed, than he fell a prey to evil counsellors. Certain irreligious princes of Judah, who had not had access to him before, crowded about him, and insinuated themselves into his favour by flattery. " They made obeisance unto him," it is said, " and the king hearkened unto them, and forsook the Lord, and served groves and idols." " Now these things are written for our admonition." They say to the young, " Cease my son, to hearken to that instruction which causeth to err from the words of knowledge." If others through these means have been ensnared, be you aware of your danger, and pre- pared to resist temptation. " In vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird ; " but if you are unsuspicious of danger, you may be entangled, ere you are aware, and if mercy prevent not, be led from less to more, till you " make shipwreck of faith and of a good conscience." Let not yourselves be cheated out of your good principles by specious sophistry, nor rallied out of them by the ridicule Avhich they throw on your stricter notions, and more scrupulous abhorrence of every species of vice. Have the courage to endure their taunts, to resist their solicitations, to be deaf to their arguments and their flatteries. Remember that listening to bad advice, and artful insinuations, was the ruin of our first parents, and let no consideration per- suade you to forsake him " whose favour is life," and who has promised to be the guardian and guide of those who commit themselves to his protection. 3. The influence of fashion corrupts many of the young. Of the power of fashion, especially over the young mind, there is no person who is not aware. It influences our dress, our manner of sj^eech, indeed our whole conduct in life. "U^'ere its influence confined to matters in themselves indiflercnt, it were a trivial affiiir ; but, alas, it stretches itself beyond its proper sphere, and invades the province of religion and morals. It is not the fashion to be religious ; or, if it be at all consistent FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 277 with it to make a general and loose profession of religion, it is very unfashionable to attach oneself to a strict profession, and still more so to walk in close conformity to its principles and precepts. But it is fashionable to have no religion at all, or at least, only such a religion as hangs loose about us, and is no impediment to us in the pursuit of vanity and the indulgence of our lusts. To be religious, strictly, conscien- tiously religious, it is necessary to be in many points out of the fashion ; " not to be conformed to this world, but to be transformed in the renewing of our minds;" to resolve to " ask for the old paths, the good way, and walk therein," though some should wonder and others laugh at our supposed folly. How difficult is it for young minds especially, to resist the ridicule of the world, and in opposition to the current, to hold fast the profession of their faith without wavering ! How difficult to dare to believe what few of the great or learned believe, and to profess what is professed by few, but the vulgar and illiterate, to perform duties which those of better station in general neglect, and refrain from practices, in which the majority indulge ! It was not the fashion in Christ's day to believe in him ; "he was despised and rejected of the men" of rank and influence ; but " the common people heard him gladly." This was the stumbling-block then, this is the stumbling-block still, that " not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble," attached themselves to his cause; the few that did so were "men wondered at," and if they spake a word in favour of Christ and religion, were apt to be assailed with, " Are ye also deceived ? Have any of the rulers or the Pharisees believed in him, but this people that knoweth not the law are accursed ? " No wonder, when the corrupt heart takes part with the world, that many fall before the shrine of fashion, and prefer " the friendship of the world," and " the praise of men, to that which cometh from God." Show me a young person educated in the fear of God, who becomes ambitious of worldly reputation, and is eager to be reckoned a person of a liberal mind, or of superior talents, 278 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN who wishes to attract the notice of those above him, or of those below him, as superior to the multitude in knowledge and discernment. I tremble for his fall. To believe in Christ is too vulgar a thing ; he must become an infidel. To believe what his father believed, and profess what he professed, is to continue in the trammels of education ; he must be a free thinker. He must be no less in the fashion in his religion, than in his clothes. It is too vulgar to attend the place where his parents worshipped ; he must go to places frequented by the fashionable and the gay. He must not honour even these places with more than his occasional presence. He must take care not to be thought too strict ; he must have fashionable oaths, frequent fashionable places. His bible must be thrown aside, as an antiquated book ; the Sabbath employed for business or amusement ; in a word, the voice of conscience suppressed in comj^liment to the giddy and thoughtless, and his soul thrown away, and all his hopes for eternity abandoned for nought and very vanity. 4. The allurements of the world draw many aside, so that they walk not in the ways of their pious parents. The world is an enemy which does incredible mischief, both by its smiles and its frowns, its terrors and its allurements. It is particularly dangerous to the young, by the seductive arts it employs to captivate their imaginations, and gain their affections. At a time of life when the fancy is lively, and the blood warm ; when desire is ardent, and hope sanguine ; and when there is as yet no experience of the vanity of human expectations, and the unsatisfactory nature of worldly enjoyments, the world has particular advantages for practising its impositions, and seducing the heart. It paints its vai'ious enjoyments in the })rightest colours, to inflame the passions with desire, and carefully throws into the shade whatever might moderate expectation, or check the ardour of pursuit ; while religion is exhibited in the darkest and most forbidding aspect, as if it were an enemy to human joy ; requiring austerity of manners, imposing the most intolerable burdens, and condemning the FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 279 most innocent indulgences. It thus corrupts the heart, and partly by its misrepresentations of religion, and partly by its highly coloiired pictures of the pleasures of time, and the delights of sense, forms a prejudice against the ways of God, and tempts the young to cast off all regard to its dictates, ay standing in the way of their happiness. Ah, how many have thus been ensnared and ruined! To how many may Ave apply what was originally spoken by Solomon of the successful arts of the harlot on the simple unsuspecting youth ! the world " with her much fair speech caused him to yield, with the flattery of her lips she forced him. He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks, till a dart strike through his liver, as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life." Religion, be assured of it, is not that dull and melancholy thing which the world would persuade you that it is. If you have felt its services irksome to you, when obliged to engage in them when subject to your parents, it is because you have never entered into the spirit of true religion. Listen not to those who like yourselves have no knowledge or expe- rience. Attend rather to the representations of those who, having long walked in the way of God's commandments, are competent to judge, and who love you too well to attempt to impose on you. They will with one voice tell you, that none of his commandments are gi'ievous; that his "yoke is easy and his burden light;" that "wisdom's ways are pleasantness," and her paths peace. They will assure you that they never knew what peace, what true happiness was, till they gave God their hearts, and with their eyes observed his ways ; and that they would not exchange that " peace of God which passeth all understanding," the joy of faith, and the hopes of immortality, with which they are inspired, for all that the world has to bestow. But if you will not hearken, be assured of it, you will find the world a deceiver, and yourselves its miserable dupes. You will find that you have gx'asped at the shadow, and lost the substance ; be forced to conclude, after spending 280 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN many days in folly, that "all is vanity and vexation of spirit;" and if mercy prevent not, be left to " mourn at last, when your flesh and your body are consumed, and say, How have I hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof; and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined mine ear to them that instructed me ! " III, It is time that I should now conclude the subject, by attending, as I proposed, to the consequences of not walking in the ways of our pious parents. Of these I confine my attention to two : it gives inconceivable distress to their parents, and brings unutterable ruin upon themselves. I say, 1. That when childi'en walk not in their ways, it gives incon- ceivable distress to their parents. Parents who love their children cannot look on with indifference, and see them perish ; and what other prospect have they before them, when they observe their children forgetting God, " bursting his bands, and cast- ing his cords from them?" The ungodly conduct of the profane Esau, was no matter of indifference to his parents ; it " was a gi'ief of mind to Isaac and to Rebecca ; " and not all the infirmities of advanced years, nothing which concerns their outward condition in the world, will give such exquisite pain to truly pious parents, as the ungodliness of their offspring. The anticipation of it, as a possible case, fills them with alarm ; if Jacob should copy Esau's example, " what good," said Rebecca, " shall my life do me ? " but the reality, how agonizing ! To think that they have trained up children for the devil ; that all their pains are thrown away, their hopes disappointed, and that those whom they so love, and for whom they have so often prayed, are running headlong in the way to perdition, and must, if mercy prevent not, perish for ever — it is a thought which they cannot endure; "a sword which pierces their very bowels." It haimts them by day and l)y night, and often, often forces from their hearts the prayer of Abraham, " 0 that Ishmael might live before thee !" And is this nothing to you, O ye young persons void of understand- FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 281 ing ? Is it notliing to you, to disturb the old age of your parents, to embitter the evening of their days with grief for you, perhaps to " bring down their gray hairs with sorroAV to the grave ?" If your parents have finished their course, and entered on their rest, your ruin will give them no disturbance. Though you should perish, they shall live with God, be happy, and, oh horrible ! say Amen, to the awful retribution which awaits their disobedient offspring. But if they still live, is it kind, is it grateful, to be the occasion of such distress, as they feel on your account ? If ever there were persons in the world who wished you well, or did you good, it was your parents ; they toiled for your sustenance ; they watched over you witli trembling anxiety in sickness ; they denied themselves many comforts for your sake. AVith solicitous care they instructed you ; with sincere and ardent devotion, they prayed for you. If they ever chid you, if they ever corrected you, if they ever refused to grant you your requests, it was for your bene- fit ; the motive was love, the object your welfare. And is this the return you give them ? this the gratitude you show them, to disturb the serenity of their evening, by your impiety, to make them consider the dispensation that removed others from their family a mercy, and tempt them to wish that God had never granted to them the blessing of children ? Comfort, I beseech you, the hearts of your parents, by seeking the Lord in your youth. " The father of a fool hath no joy;" " a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother." Be you their joy, by " remembering your Creator in the days of your youth," by applying your hearts to that " wisdom, the beginning of which, is the fear of the Lord." " My son, if thine heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, even mine ; yea, my reins shall rejoice when thy lips speak right things. Let not thine heart envy sinners, but be thou in the fear of the Lord aU the day long. For surely there is an end, and thine expectation shall not be cut off." But, 2. "When children walk not in the ways of their pious parents, another and more awful consequence will follow : it 282 THE CHILDREN OF GOOD MEN will bring unutterable ruin upon themselves. There is but one way to heaven, and if children will not walk in that way of faith and holiness in which their parents, and all the good and wise in every age have walked, their expectation of happiness hereafter must perish. " Godliness is great gain ;" " it hath the promise both of the life that now is, and of that which is to come." But ungodliness is " the broad way that leads to destruction ; " it is without comfort in life, and with- out hope in death ; " for the -WTatli of God shall be revealed from heaven, against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men," and then, " to them that do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, shall be rendered indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish upon every soul of man that doth evil ; for there is no respect of persons Avith God." "What do you expect to gain by departing from the paths of godliness ? You may get the applause of creatures as thought- less as yourselves, "the pleasures of sin which are for a season," the wealth that perisheth. But even of this you are uncertain. The ungodly are often disappointed in their worldly expecta- tions, and while they serve the world and the devil, are cheated of the present advantages which they expected to reap. Samuel's sons missed their end in forsaking their father's ways. In the pursuit of lucre, they roused the indignation of their country, and lost with their character, their places, their gains, and all their hopes of wealth and aggrandisement. But admitting that you should prosper for a while in forsaking God, is there not a futurity, a judgment to come, and " fiery indignation in reserve, to devour the adversaries?" And what will it avail in the day of death, and at the bar of Christ, that here you " had good things," when conscience -will tell you that you have only evil things in reserve '? " "WTiat will it profit a man, though he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul, or what shall any man give in exchange for his soul?" It Avill not then avail to say you are the children of the godly, if you are not " the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus." It will not avail that you knew the FORSAKING THEIR FATHERS' WAYS. 283 principles of religion, if you have not believed them, and li\'ed under their influence. Avail you ! No. " The servant that knoweth his master's will and doth it not, shall be beaten with many stripes." It will be your condemnation, the aggravation of your guilt, and of your punishment, that you enjoyed the means of grace, and " received the grace of God in vain." Ah! how terrible to have been baptised in the name of Christ, to have had instruction in " the principles of the doctrine of Christ," and yet to perish without Christ. The example of your parents which you would not copy; the advices, the counsels, the entreaties of your parents which you despised; the prayers you heard, and would not join in; the sermons you heard, and would not apply, all will rise up in terrible array before your consciences, to condemn you. Prayer, repentance, will be then too late. God will shut out your cry. " Because I have called, and ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded ; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof; I also will laugh at your calamity ; I will mock when your fear cometh ; when your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as the whirlwind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you." Let all the ungodly hear : " Wisdom crieth without ; she uttereth her voice in the streets : she crieth in the chief place of concourse, in the openings of the gates : in the city she uttereth her words, saying, How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity? and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge ? Turn you at my reproof : behold, I will pour out my Spirit unto you, I will make known my words unto you." 284 THE BREAD OF LIFE. X. THE BREAD OE LIFE. John vi. 35. — Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life. The conversation, of which these words form a part, took its rise from the behaviour of the people Avho, at this time, crowded after Christ. He had fed five thousand hungiy men by means of a miraculous multiplication of five barley loaves, and two small fishes. The rude multitude were more delighted with this miracle, than with any thing which he had ever said or done. Of the sublime doctrines, which he had often preached, they had little understanding ; for the pure morality which he taught, and in his own conversation exemplified, they had no relish ; the splendour of the former miracles which he had performed, filled them only with idle wonder ; and the great and beneficent design of his manifestation, was altogether hid from their view. But this action had something in it which was more on a level with their gi'oss understandings ; it came home to their bosoms ; it seemed to flatter their most darling propensities. The prospect of plenty, without the necessity of labour in order to procure it, has inconceivable charms for vulgar and sensual spirits ; and to attain this felicity is the highest summit of their wishes. It was thus with this multi- tude. They thought they saw a short and certain road to attain at once ease and plenty, by attaching themselves to Jesus. They promised themselves a frequent repetition of the miracle which he had wrought, and dreamed of loaves and fishes without end. Governed by appetite, they loved a master who could with such ease provide for them ; they became of THE BREAD OF LIFE. 285 a sudden zealous in his cause, and formed the resohition of abiding by him. Strange stupidity ! a lecture on the way of salvation thinned Jesus' audience ; but a miracle, which filled their bellies, raised his reputation, collected crowds around him, and laid him under the necessity of retiring from them, lest they should forcibly " take him and make him a king." To avoid the teazing importunity of this rude and sensual multitude, Jesus first departed privately to a desert mountain, and afterwards crossed the sea of Galilee. But he could not be hid. Impelled by appetite they pursued him in his flight, and desisted not till they found him. They approached him with flattering words ; " Rabbi, when camest thou hither ? " But how great their disappointment, when instead of enjoying the gratification of their wishes, they learn from his own mouth, that the base motives which influenced them were detected ; when, instead of working another miracle to fill their bellies, he reproves their sensuality ; and urges them to equal diligence in labouring for their soul's salvation, as they had discovered in providing for their temjioral supply. They were not, how- ever, to be dissuaded from their favourite pursuit by this repulse. They artfully enough proposed to him such questions as they thought would produce a more explicit answer to their demands ; and faihng in this, they intimated more openly their expectation of receiving temporal benefits in his service, and reminded him of the miraculous provision granted to their fathers in the vrilderness, something similar to which, they flattered themselves, he would bestow. The Lord Jesus wishing to enlighten their uninformed minds, and to lead their carnal hearts to the desire and pursuit of what would profit their souls, assures them that better provision was set before them in the gospel, than was the manna with which Israel was fed. The manna, he says, was not the true bread, but only a type of it. The true bread after which they should labour is of nobler origin, of a superior nature, and of more singular service. " Moses gave you not that bread from heaven, but my Father giveth you the true bread from heaven : for the bread of God 286 THE BREAD OF LIFE. is he which -cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world." Astonishing as it may seem, the people inter- preted all this in a carnal sense, as meant of some singidarly delicious and salutary bread, which Jesus intended to bestow on them, and much better than that which their fathers re- ceived in the Avilderness ; and therefore, enraptured by the description of it, and inflamed by desire, they cry out, " Lord, evermore give us this bread." O, how difficult a thing to convey into a carnal mind any suitable apprehensions of spiri- tual and divine things ! How quickly do men discern, how eagerly do they desire, and w\th what ardour pursue, whatever captivates the senses, or their appetites crave ! But how slow to understand, and how indifferent to enjoy what respects the soul, and is calculated to make it happy for ever ! It was necessary that Jesus should adch-ess to them a long discourse, of which our text is the beginning, in order to instruct them that he liimself was the bread of which he had been speaking ; that this bread is to be eaten by faith, and that eternal life is the blessed and certain effect of eating it ; and wlien thus explained to them, instead of reiterating their cry, " Lord, evermore give us this bread," they took offence at the heavenly doctrine, withdrew in disgust from his ministry, " and walked no more with him." May we be differently affected while Christ is discoursed of to us as the bread of life ! And may the doctrine have a better and happier effect on our future tempers and conduct ! May we feed on the bread of life, while we speak and hear about him ! And eating of this bread may we live for ever ! I propose, first, to give some account of this bread ; secondly, consider the manner in which it is accojeviodated TO OUR USE ; and thirdly, attend to the benefit which is RECEIVED BY PARTAKING OF IT. I. I begin with giving some account of this bread. And the account which I propose to give shall be comprehended under the five following particulars. This bread came down from THE BREAD OF LIFE. 287 heaven ; is the peculiar gift of God to men ; is absolutely necessary to preserve our souls from famishing; is singularly fitted for human use ; and is in sufficient plenty for satisfjnng every starving soul. 1. This bread came doivn from heaven. The bread, which the bounty of Providence provides for the nourishment and support of our mortal bodies, is the product of the soil. The earth, from whose womb we originally issued, acts towards her childi'en a mother's part ; and continues to nourish them by means of those concocted juices which proceed from her bosom. For God, seconding the labours of man, by means of the warm influences of the sun, and the refreshing dews and rains of heaven, " brings forth," as the psalmist sings, " food out of the earth, and wme that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart." But what soil can produce anything calculated to nourish the immortal soul ? No tree of life now grows on this accursed earth, as of old in the midst of the garden of Eden, of which if a man should eat, he would live for ever. The richest pro- ductions, the most choice and delicate fruits reared in the most favoured spots of the world, have no higher virtue than to delight the carnal appetite of man, and to preserve for a while a crazy body, which after all our care and pains, must soon return to its original dust. The food of the soul, of which we at present speak, is of nobler origin. It springs not out of the earth, like common bread; but, like the manna, that miraculous provision by which Israel was sustained while they sojourned in the wilderness ; it came down from heaven. The manna was, in this I'espect, a type of Christ. " Our fathers," said the multitude, " did eat manna in the desert, as it is written ; he gave them bread from heaven to eat." "I am," said Jesus, in reply, "that bread of life — the living bread which came down from heaven." Christ, indeed, is man, and sprung of the earth ; but not merely man. In the fulness of the time, he was planted in 288 THE BREAD OF LIFE. the earth, that he might produce fruit for the nourishment of our famishing souls. " He came forth," as saith the prophet, " a rod out of the stem of Jesse," and grew as " a branch out of his roots." " But he was not a native of the soil ; the strange unkindly soil of this earth could produce no plant so excellent, or whose fruit could be so beneficial, as the plant of renown. A Saviour of mere earthly origin, could have been no saviour at all." I know that the poor deluded Socinian thinks other- wise. That bread which he treasures up for his soul, is the produce of the earth ; it grows on a root sprung out of dry ground. On this his soul greedily feeds, blessing himself in his plenty, and thinks that eating of it, he shall live for ever. A mere man is the sa\nour in whom he trusts ; but God forbid that I should recommend to you such a saviour ! This were, when you " ask bread, to give" you " a stone." The Saviour whom I desire to commend to your acceptance, as the bread of life, is " the Lord from heaven." He descended from above ; he came from the bosom of the Father. In his incarnation, he was transplanted by his heavenly Father's hand, from that happy country in which he flourished from eternity ; he grew up to maturity in that human nature, which for our sakes he assumed, withered by none of the rude blasts which assailed him in the world, his branches laden with the choicest abun- dance of precious fruits, and was cut down fully ripe by the scythe of death, to furnish food to the famishing nations. " I am the living bread which came down from heaven ; if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever ; and the bread that I will give, is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world." 2. This bread is the peculiar gift of God to men. Even our daily bread is the gift of God. If the seed quickens in the earth ; if it withers not in the blade ; if it is matured by warmth and moisture ; if it is reaped and stored in safety ; if there is abundance of corn for the support of human life, to what shall we ascribe it ? It is the God of seasons who performs all this ; and nature is liberal, because THE BREAD OF LIFE. 289 God is kind. It is God who gives us our corn, and wine, and oil. " He opens his hand," and giveth us our " meat in due season." But what is daily bread, what are all the necessaries, and all the comforts of this present life, to that bread by which the life of the soul is promoted, and its eternal happiness secured ? Let my appetite be regularly satisfied with the choicest viands, let my body be clothed with the softest and warmest raiment, let me perpetually enjoy not only every convenience, but the superfluities of life, I am a poor man indeed, and an object of pity, if I am destitute of the bread of life. But, though famine and nakedness should assail me with all their terrors, and I should be, like another Lazarus, in the streets, happy if I can collect any of the crumbs which the profusion of the rich disdains, in order to protract a miserable existence in the world, I am a happy man, if 1 have that bread " to eat which the world knoweth not of." A morsel of the bread of life is better than all the delicacies which the world can pour into the cup of the most prosperous sinner. He who possesses it, has store laid up for many years ; and " in the days of famine" which shall arise to the wicked, " he shall be satisfied." This single consideration might satisfy us that the bread of life is an inestimably precious gift. But, to enhance the value of this gift further, let us recollect for a moment, what it is. The bread of life is no common gift. God has bestowed many great and precious gifts on men ; but when bestowed he such another gift, or when had he such another gift to bestow upon men ? He had many servants, but he had only one Son ; and this Son, though only begotten, and dearly beloved, he gave, frankly and cheerfully gave, to be the bread of life to perishing souls. And what gift can be compared with this ? In the scale with Christ, every thing that is valuable or excellent in creation will be found lighter than vanity. In heaven there is none like him, though there an innumerable company of glorious angels dwell ; neither on earth is there any who can be compared N 290 THE BREAD OF LIFE, unto hira. The love of God, measured by this gift of his love, appears great beyond all calculation and all comprehension. The gift, and the love which gave it, are both infinitely great. To Christ he was attached by infinitely tender ties, by the ties of the most endearing fellowship, and the most ineffable love. Yet pity to our perishing souls overcame every con- sideration which might be conceived calculated to induce a ^vithholding of him ; and that our souls might live in his sight, he gave him to be afflicted, to suffer and die : " For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in liira, might not perish, but have eternal life." " In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him." " Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift." It is of importance that we recollect this farther respecting Christ, the bread of life, that he is a gift which no money could pui'chase, nor any entreaties procure. What price could have purchased the only begotten of the Father ? Ten thousand worlds is no equivalent to him. Had God withheld his Son, tiU man should have brought a price in his hand to purchase him ; had he withheld this living bread, till, by the labours of obedience, or the tears of contrition, we had deserved it, Christ would have been withheld for ever, and we must have perished for want. The gift of Christ is a gift of grace. Grace never shone with such lustre as in the gift of Christ. The heavenly manna was sent doAvn to a rebellious people, to a guilty race, who deserved to be fed, not with the bread from heaven, but with the fire and brimstone of the pit. "What then, O Lord, was man that thou wast mindful of him ? and the son of man that thou didst visit him ?" 3. This bread is absolutely necessary to 2>reserve our souls from famishing. Our bodies are so constituted that they cannot subsist with- out frequent supplies of food. Bread is the staff" of life, and were this staff' taken from us, our crazy bodies unable to THE BREAD OF LIFE. 291 sustain themselves, would begin to shake, and totter, and speedily bow down to the dust. Oui' souls can no more live without Christ, than can our bodies without food. He is not a luxury on which the rich may feast, but which the poor who cannot procure him, or care not to possess, can live without. He is, if I may so speak, a necessary of life ; is absolutely, essentially, indispensably neces- sary for the life of the soul ; for whatever other abundance men may possess, whatever store on which to feed, without Christ, they cannot live in God's sight ; they must beyond all peradventure' die of want. There is only one thing in the universe that can preserve a soul alive ; and this one thing is Christ. Could our souls have lived without him, God would not have provided him, Christ would not have become the bread of life. Death flows to us in a thousand channels ; life only in one. Forbidden fruit at first grew only on one tree, while all the others, and especially the tree of life, which was an emblem of Christ, bore fruits, " good for food, and pleasant to the eyes." But now forbidden fruit hangs clustering, and inviting the appetite of man, on the branches of every tree but one : that is Christ ; and however much these fruits may seem " to be desired to make us wise" and happy, the awful sentence is yet unrepealed : "In the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." If Christ, the true bread, be excluded, what a melancholy prospect presents itself to man ! His only choice lies betwixt Ijeing poisoned, and being stai'ved to death. IMiserable souls ! Are the husks of the world presented to you ? Abstain. There is no substance in them to sustain the life of your souls. Do you think of stretching out your hand to par- take of those sinful pleasures on which so many feed with seeming delight ? Touch them not ; " there is death in the pot." If, aspiring after what is better, you attempt to feed on the sublime speculations of a refined philosophy ; alas, this is only to " feed on the east wind ;" and if dissatisfied with these, you labour to earn the food of your souls by the labours of a \T.rtuous and pious life ; what is this but to " spend your *r?#'' 292 THE BREAD OF LIFE. money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that whicli satisfieth not ;" for to attempt to live by works of righteousness performed, is equally foolish, as to try to feed upon ashes. Christ alone is the bread of life. On him only, given to us, broken and bruised for us, and received by us, can a perishing soul live. " For this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life ; and this life is in his Son. He that hath the Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the Son of God, hath not life." It is with us as Avith Israel of old ; they got not corn from lieaven to eat, till they had entered on the barren' sands of the wilderness, and sojourned in a land not watered by the dew of heaven. Manna was sent them when every other bread was deficient ; and because without it the whole multitude must have perished for want. AYhat a lively picture of our miserable state, and of God's superabundant grace ! Sin cast us out from " our father's house where there is bread enough and to spare." It threw us on a world blasted by the curse, on a wilderness, every part whereof is bleak and barren, furnishing nowhere anything to sustain the life of our souls. In this forlorn state, what could we have done for our own salvation ? Could Israel by ploughing up the ban-en sands of the wilderness, have raised crops for their sustenance ? equally fruitless would have been all the efforts of natural wisdom, and natural strength, to procure salvation from impending ruin. Our " carcases" must have " fallen in the wilderness ;" we must have perished without remedy ; for nature, amidst all lier stores, could not furnish us with one morsel of the bread of life, nor with one sip of the water of life. In this extremity it was that a miracle of grace and mercy was wrought. The Father then sent us the true bread from heaven. The bread of life was not sent from heaven till earth could furnish none. Should we therefore despise the heavenly manna as '' light food," we will find it impossible to obtain any substi- tute capable of giving life to our souls. A humbled, crucified Christ, though contemptible in the eye of the world, though THE BREAD OF LIFE. 293 despised as light and unsubstantial food, is the only food of perishing souls. For " the bread of God which came dov/n from heaven," is that alone which " giveth life to the world." " Lord evermore give us this bread." 4. This bread \s singularly fitted for human use. Every production of the earth is not fitted for the main- tenance of human life. Many of those vegetables which co^•er the surface of the ground, though nutritive to other creatures, are useless to man, and not a few of them contain the rankest poison. Providence has directed us to the use of some particular species, which his wisdom has particularly adapted to the constitution of our bodies, and which his goodness has provided in rich abundance. Of these we eat, and by them life is preserved. I need not repeat what I mentioned in the preceding par- ticular, that everything is not fitted to the support of the perishing soul. We are not left to range at random, in quest of the bread of life, nor to the cruel uncertainty of ascertaining, by experiment, what of all that our eye discovers, or our fancy is pleased with, is fit to be used as spiritual food. Bread is given us ready prepared for our use, and in every respect most admirably adapted to our case. The ^visdom and grace of God in providing a Saviour, consixlted the particular exigency of our situation, and sent him exactly such as we need ; without anything awanting necessary to our welfare ; with nothing redundant or unnecessary. Christ could not have been otherwise than he is, without pi'ejudice to our salva- tion. Try the experiment, and say in what respect the bread of life could have been more fitted for the service of man. Begin with his person. If you substitute a created instead of a divine nature, and make the Saviour less than God, you deprive the bread of life of all its virtue to nourish our famish- ing souls ; if you substitute another nature instead of the human, suppose the angelical, he may then be food for fallen angels, but by no means fit for the use of perishing man. Pro- ceed to his offices. What would you have him diflferent from what he is ? Without his prophetical office ? Then Ave must 294 THE BREAD OF LIFE. liave perished in ignorance, ■^^^thout saving knowledge, that food to the understanding. Without his priestly office ? Then Ave must have perished under guilt, •u'ithout justifydng right- eousness, that food to the conscience. "Without his kingly- office ? Then we must have perished in bondage, without sanc- tifying gi'ace, that food to the heart. Go on to his states. Had he not been abased even to the dust of death, he could not have been bread for us to eat ; for what a sinner needs is his body broken, and his blood shed, his " flesh which he gave for the life of the world." Kad he not been exalted, after death, to the highest heavens, though he had given himself as the bread of life, I must have perished for want, for never without an exertion of that power, which he now possesses, could I have been persuaded to put forth the hand of faith, and eat, and live for ever. In short, Christ in every view of his character, in all that he is, and has done, is singularly suitable to the case of perishing souls. But while Christ is thus admirably adapted to the use of perishing souls, it must not be forgotten, that it is only when received as God has given him. Every foreign ingredient, every admixture of human invention, adulterates the bread of life, and renders it unfit for nourishing the soul. From Christ nothing must be taken ; to Christ nothing must be added. A whole Christ must be fed on as the bread of life. You may take what methods you please, in the preparation of the food which you daily eat, and contract no guilt, if you degenerate not into a luxurious pampering of the flesh ; though even here, the simpler the method of preparation, the fitter for the service of the body. But human inventions are absolutely forbidden in respect of the bread of life, and totally unfit it for the service of the soul. To be nourished by Christ, we must take him as he is. It is as necessary that we believe in the truth of his Godhead, as in the reality of his manhood. His life and his death deserve our equal regard ; for in vain shall we promise ourselves life by the imitation of his exam})Ie, without reliance on the virtue of his atonement ; and in vain shall we hope for THE BREAD OF LIFE. 295 salvation from the efficacy of liis priesthood, if we reject his instruction as a prophet, and his law as a king. But, as we must not reject any part of the bread of life, neither must we add anything to it. Iron and clay are not less incapable of uniting into one mass, than is Chi'ist's righteousness and ours. The merit of human works, and of the Saviour's blood, forms a very heterogeneous mass ; and a composition of this kind can never be profitable to the salvation of any soul. Christ must be an entire Saviour, or no Saviour at all. Shall we think so meanly of the bread, which our heavenly Father has given us to eat, as not to venture to live entirely upon it ? Can we pre- pare it better than he has prepared it for us ? or shall Ave scorn it as light food, unless we are permitted to dress it to our own fancy, and mix with it provision of our own gathering ? No ; I cannot live merely by eating my own bread, and Avearing my OAvn apparel, I will, therefore, depend entirely on the bounty of my gracious provider ; and since he has set before me this singularly Avholesome, delicious, and salutary food, I will not affront him by taking even one crumb from my oAvn store. My hungry soul shall feed on Christ alone ; and disdaining to taste of any other, this shall be my cry, " None but Christ, none but Christ." 0. This bread is in sufficient plenty for satisfying every starving soul. In this respect Christ, in his fulness and sufficiency, Avas fitly shadowed forth by the manna which fell in the wilderness. The people Avho were to be fed by it were a great multitude, a nation consisting of six hundred thousand men, able to bear arms ; and even a considerable quantity would scarcely have afforded a morsel to each ; yet there Avas enough, and to spare. It descended in such abundance in the evenings, regularly, during their abode in the wilderness, that there was sufficiency for the whole host, and none needed to have died of want, but such as would not eat. Still gi'eater is the number of souls who need the Saviour. and who must either feed on him, or die miserably of famine. The whole human race suffer the extremes of indigence and 296 THE BREAD OF LIFE. want. One among the multitude is not to be found, whose soul can live without the Saviour ; for all have sinned, and by sin are exposed to eternal death. But, though he alone is the bread of life, and the hungry multitude be so great, let us not say, like the disciples in another case, " What is this among so many ? " In Christ there is enough to furnish, not a scanty morsel, but a full feast to every perishing soul ; not to alford them a temporary supply, merely, but to enable them to live for ever. For in Christ there is inexhaustible store ; sufficient to give life to ten thousand worlds ; and if any souls of the human race perish, as alas many do, it is not because of any deficiency in Christ, but because they despise the bread of life, as light and unsubstantial food, and receive not into their souls, by faith, the gift of God's grace. Ask " the living in Jeru- salem ? " They with one voice will assure you, that they never found Christ " a barren wilderness, or a land of drought to them ;" that in no exigence did they apply to him, in Avhich they found not the amplest abundance in him, of everything which their souls needed ; for that " out of his fulness they all received, and grace for grace." How, indeed, is it possible that in him there should be deficiency of any kind ? Can the Avaters of the wide ocean be exhausted, or even sensibly diminished by any quantity Avhich men may draw out ? No more can Christ's ability to save be exhausted, by the number of those who receive life and happiness from him. ^Vhy ? His person hath infinite dignity, and, therefore, his blood hath infinite merit, and his arm infinite power. Say, perishing souls, what you think necessary for your salvation, which Jesus possesses not in infinite abundance ? We " preach among the Gentiles, the unsearchable riches of Christ." We are appointed as heralds, to announce to a starving world that there is " bread enough in our father's house, and to spare," for one, and for all. In Christ there is a fulness of saving illumination; a fulness of justifying righteousness; a fulness of sanctifying grace ; a fulness of comforting infiuence ; " for it hath pleased the Father that in him all fulness should dwell." THE BREAD OF LIFE. 297 In this, then, will I rest my comfort, that there is no scarcity of the bread of life ; that what has fed thousands can feed my soul also, and that though from the beginning, to the present moment, poor starving Israelites have been gathering of the heavenly manna, it is now in as great abundance, as if never a soul had once so much as tasted it. " The meek shall eat, and shall be satisfied ; and praise the name of the Lord." II. Let me now proceed to consider the mannkb in which THIS BREAD IS ACCOMMODATED TO OUR USE. Here I shall call your attention only to three particulars ; this bread is prepared for our use, is presented for our use, and is partaken of by faith. 1. This bread is, prepared for our use. The corn which grows in our fields is not immediately fit for human use, when the ear has become heavy, and the grain fully ripe. A variety of intermediate operations are necessary in order to its preparation. It must be cut down by the sickle, winnowed in the barn, ground in the mill, and baken in the oven. Similar preparation was necessary, in order to fit the bread of life for the use of our souls. The Lord Jesus, who grew up in the low-lying field of this world, when he became fully ripe, having done the will of his father on earth, was cut down by the sharp scythe of death. He was winnowed by the fierce wind of strong temptations and of great adversity, was bruised under the millstone of vindictive justice, and baken as in the oven of the vsrath of God. Without this preparation, Christ would not have been bread fit for the use of perishing men. A saviour who suffered not, could not have been a saviour for us ; " for without shedding of blood, is no remis- sion." His sufferings were all necessary to fit him for giving life to the world ; his " body was broken, and his blood was shed" for our sakes ; " for he was wounded for our transgres- sions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his stripes we are healed." One circumstance of pain which he endured, one tear of sorrow, one groan of distress, one drop of blood could not have beea 298 THE BREAD OF LIFE. awanting ; for though " it pleased the Lord to bruise him, and to put him to grief;" yet, who will venture to say that Jehovah could have had delight in any unnecessary sufferings inilicted on his own Son ? Doubtless he would have spared his well- beloved Son, had his sparing of him been compatible with our happiness. He spared him not, that we might have bread to eat. " He spared him not, but delivered him up for us all." The bread of life, brethren, infinitely valuable in itself, was singularly expensive in the preparation. When the God of providence gives us bread to eat, he only speaks the word, and nature obeys him. But Avlien the God of grace provides food to our souls, he has to lay his hand upon, to afilict, to punish, to bruise under the pressure of his wTfath, his dearest Son. And shall men despise what heaven has furnished at such expense ? Shall we turn away with fastidious loathing, from this choicest delicacy of heaven, this noblest gift of God to men ? No. Let the expense of the preparation, raise in our estimation the value of the bread of life, and with hearts overfloAving with gratitude, let us at once bless the giver, and bless the gift. Prepared by sufferings, " his flesh is meat indeed, and his blood is drink indeed." 2. This bread is presented for our use. The bread of life is not locked up fi'om human view, and penuriously withheld. Had Jehovah not been disposed to give, he would not have put himself to the vast expense of providing. What would it profit me, that bread is prepared fit for my soul, if it be placed beyond my reach ? The bread of Canaan may be excellent, and those who live in that fertile land may eat it with gladness ; but if it is not sent down to the Avilder- ness, I shall die before I reach that promised land. The same grace, therefore, that provided Christ, the same grace that at such expense prepared him, presents him as the food of our perishing souls. Where ? On what table is Christ presented ? The bread of life is himself in heaven ; but we need not say, " Who shall ascend into heaven, to bring Christ down from above ? The word is nigh us." A table is provided for us in THE BREAD OF LIFE. 299 the wilderness ; a table richly furnished with the bread of heaven ; and Avisdom crieth to us, " Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine that I have mingled." This table, I need not tell you, is the table of the gospel, in which Christ is exhibited in all his fulness, and presented for the acceptance of perishing souls. And, O how richly is it furnished ! a whole Christ is served up on it, in all his offices, and all his relations, in all his gracious performances, all his precious px'omises, and all his invaluable benefits. Sinners are invited in the gospel to sit down, not to a scanty meal, but to a full feast ; not to eat of common provision, but of the choicest delicacies of heaven. On the table of the gospel, the bread of life is presented. But am I at liberty to partake ? Is it to such as me, that the invitation to eat the bread of life is given ? Yes ; I know not who thou art, who askest this question ; but without hesitation. I answer, yes. Thou art invited. " In this mountain the Lord of Hosts hath made unto all people, a feast of fat things." To the gospel feast invitations ai*e given, not to a select company, of the great, the rich, and the honourable ; the Lord has sent out his servants with unlimited powers, with the fullest instruc- tions, to invite every perishing soul to partake of Christ, the bread of life ; to bid all of every description, and wherever found. " Go out quickly," he hath said, " into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind, and say unto them. Come, for all things are ready." But, says some poor perishing soul, Happy should 1 be, could I obtain one morsel of the bread of life ; but I am poor, I have no money, and cannot buy this precious food. The feast is as free as it is large. Christ is revealed as a gift of grace ; and those who set a price upon him, v/ho demand as the conditions of access to him, either the tears of repentance, or the labours of good works, dishonour their master by con- cealing his hospitality, and are unfaithful to the commission which they have received. Were God to hold back the bread 300 THE BREAD OF LIFE. of life, till we brought money with us to procure it, how would liis grace be obscured ! How impossible for one soul to be saved ! What hast thou, wretched man, to offer to God for his Christ? What, to mei'it his unspeakable gift ? " Thy money perish Avith thee," self-righteous man. The bread of life is above all human merit, and presented freely Avithout consideration of human worth. The table of the gospel is an open table. The only condi- tion requisite to entitle me, to entitle any person, to it, is need. If I am perishing, Christ in the gospel is bread fit for me, is bread presented to my acceptance, that I may live. For A\'hat says the great provider ; " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the Avaters ; and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come buy Aviue and milk, Avithout money and Avithout price. Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that Avhich is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness." 3. This bread is jKirtaken of by faith. We haA^e already seen, that the bread of life is admirably fitted for human use, and is in sufficient abundance for supply- ing all our necessities. We haA'e seen that it is already prepai'ed for our use, and freely presented to our acceptance. But what of all this ? The sight of a covered table Avill not satisfy my craving appetite ; plenty before me will not nourish my famished body. If I eat not, I starve. And Avhat though Chi'ist have died for sinners ; and Avhat though in the gospel he is presented to sinners as the food of their souls ? If I partake not of Him, I must die, as if there were no remedy provided. It is by being eaten, that bread is taken into the constitution, and becomes the means of pi'olonging human life ; and it is by being eaten, that Christ, the true bread, nourishes the soul ; " whoso eateth my flesh," says Jesus, " and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life." Eat tlie flesh and drink the blood of the Son of God ! What caa this mean ? It means nothing gross or carnal. To eat, is to believe. On the table of the gospel, Christ is pre- sented as fit food for perishing souls ; gos])ol hearers are the guests invited to partake of lliis spiritual provision ; but if Ave THE BREAD OF LIFE. 301 pat not forth our hand and eat of what grace has provided, we despise the master's liberality, and perish for want. Faith is the eye of the soul, which discerns Chi'ist ; the foot of the soul, which moves towards Christ; the hand of the soul, which accepts Christ ; the mouth of the soul, which receives Christ. Those only live by Christ, who through grace believe ; for they only comply with the gospel invitation ; they only appro- priate Christ to themselves, and receive him into their hearts for their salvation. Unless we thus partake of the bread of life, how can we be nourished by it ? Our souls must starve in the midst of abundance. Your ears may hear ever so much said about the bread of life ; your heads may possess ever so much knowledge concerning the bread of life ; your lips may speak ever so much about the bread of life ; but if you eat not of it ; if you receive it not into your hearts by faith, life can never enter into your souls. For, " verily, verily I say unto you, except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you." O then for faith ! May he who gives the bread of life, give power to eat. May he " open our mouths wide, and fill them abundantly." III. It remains that I now speak of the benfit which is RECEIVED BY PARTAKING of the bread of life. The benefit is taught us by the name which this bread receives. It is styled the bread of life ; because by it, life is given, life is supported, life is preserved for ever. 1 . By means of this bread, life is given. This is a property peculiar to the bread of which we now speak, to give life. Other bread preserves, it alone begins life. Take the finest of the wheat, and the best of the stall, and prepare it according to the most appi'oved rules of art ; and let it be put into the mouth of a dead man ; will it cause the breath of life to enter into his dead body ? No. Food is useful to the living, but useless to the dead. But the bread of life has more powerful efficacy and more extensive use. It gives life to the dead soul. Christ no sooner enters into the 302 THE BREAD OF LIFE. soul of the sinner dead in trespasses and sins, than that soul lives. " I am," says Christ, " the resurrection and the life ; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live ;" what was lost by Adam, is regained by Christ ; by eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge, we died ; by eating of the bread of life, we live. " He that fiudeth me," says Christ, " findeth life ;" and again, " He that eateth me, even he shall live by me." How would we value that fruit, if any such there M'^ere, which had the virtue of restoring life ! And O, how highly should we value Christ ; for he " quickeneth whom he will ! " The life which Christ communicates, is ten thousand-fold more valuable than that of the body. It is the life of the soul ; a life of justification, in Avhich the soul is happy in the possession of God's favour ; a life of sanctification, in which the soul is happy in the possession of conformity to God ; a life of fellowship, in which the soul is happy in the possession of communion with God. We value temporal, should we not more highly value spiritual, life ? To preserve temporal life, we labour and toil ; Ave rise up early and sit up late, that we may earn what shall furnish us with the means of supporting it. With how much greater diligence, and more solicitous care, should we labour for the meat which endureth to everlasting life ! Temj)oral life is scarcely worth all the pains we take to secure it ; spiritual life is worth infinitely more than we ever bestow. At the hazard of our lives to seek the food of our souls, is not to seek it at too great risk. If my body die, I lose much ; but if my soul perish, I lose all. The Lord Jesus, therefore, that bread, the eating of which com- municates life to the soul, cannot be too highly valued, or too diligently sought. The little estimation in which the world holds him, ought not to cause us rate him low, nor should the easy access we have to him, depreciate him in our eyes. If others choose death, let me choose life ; and since life is found only in Christ, after him let me ever seek, for him ever dili- gently labour. I know where to find him, on the table of the gospel ; I know how to find him, by believing ; I know THE BREAD OF LIFE. 303 what advantage I shall receive by finding him, I will I'eceive life to my dead soul ; and this, why should I, how can I despise ? " Whoso findeth Christ, findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord ; but he that sinneth against him, wrongeth his own soul ; all they that hate him, love death." 2. By means of this bread life is supported. The bread of God, is the staff of the spiritual life. As by partaking of him, life is begun, so by feeding on him, life is preserved in the soul. One meal serves present use, but the body soon requires another, otherwise it would pine away and die ; we need not only bread, but daily bread. So it is with the soul. It is not enough that we once eat of the bread of life ; we must live, while " in the flesh, by the faith of the Son of God." O how feeble would the new man become, how soon would he languish, if denied frequent repasts on this divine provision ! Soon would he have reason to complain, " my leanness, my leanness, woe unto me;" " my soul fainteth within me." The vigour of the Christian depends on the " supply of the Spirit" and grace of Christ. We must daily go to the same table at which we have been formerly fed ; and by the renewed exercise of faith receive out of Christ's fulness. If we do otherwise, if we attempt to live on what we have already received, without fresh supplies, experience, fatal ex- perience, will soon convince us of our mistake. We shall find our hands too feeble to perform the labours of obedience, our loins too weak to sustain the burden of affliction, our hearts too faint to face the temptations and trials of the christian life. For this purpose Christ is continued on the gospel table, not only that sinners, who never yet tasted, may partake and live ; but that saints may again and again, as often as they feel the returns of spiritual hunger, as often as their necessity requires, eat of this spiritual meal. Why did the manna fall every eve- ning around the tents of Israel, but because Israel, while in the wilderness, had constant need ? And why is the gospel and its ordinances continued, why is Christ preached, but for a similar reason ? because saints need to be daily fed on the doctrines of his 304 THE BREAD OF LIFE. word, and the promises of his grace. For this purpose, too, the bx-ead of life is presented, not only on the gospel but on the sacramental table ; that saints may be reminded by the outward elements of Christ, the bread of life, represented by them ; and that partaking by faith, they may be strengthened, comforted and edified. It is the will of God, therefore, that we live upon the bread of life. Study therefore to live thus. Make daily use of Christ. Abstain not from what is so neces- sary for spiritual life and vigour. I need not caution any to beware lest they forget to eat their daily bread ; the cravings of nature are strong, and remind us of the duty w£ o^xe our bodies. But much need we all to be reminded, not to neglect the bread of life. Appetite does not so powerfully call ; cares of other kinds lead us often to forget ; and we suifer by our criminal inattention. For why are so " many weak and sickly among us?" Wliy so few souls in health and spiritual vigour ? Why so much langour of spirit, and so little strength for duty ? It is because we often forget to eat our daily bread ; because Ave live so little by the faith of Christ. .3. By means of this bread, life is preserved for ever. Though it is by means of food that human life is preserved, yet it has no capacity to sustain us perpetually. However plentifully we are supplied, disease will invade us, age will steal in upon us, death will seize upon us, and lay our bodies in the dust. But the bread of life is a sovereign antidote against disease and death. It is at once the food and the medicine of the soul. The believer in Christ may, while in the world, be afflicted by much spiritual disease, be sorely wounded by the arrows of temptation, but he cannot die. For " this is that true bread Avhich came down from lieaven, not as your fathers did eat manna, and are dead ; he that eateth of this bread shall live for ever." The " pi'omise which God hath given us is eternal life," " and this life is in his Son." The life of grace is the beginning of the life of glory. He who once tastes by faith of Christ, is rendered thereby spiritually immortal ; and whatever various changes he may THE BREAD OF LIFE. 305 experience in the health of his soul, while exposed to the nide blasts of the wilderness, and in his folly often putting forth his hand to taste of the vnld and poisonous fruits of sin, which tempt the flesh at every step, the virtue of the bread of life keeps his soul alive. Even in that hour when our breath departs fi-om our nostrils, and the last enemy seizes us as his captives, the soul which has by faith received Jesus is safe. A believer in Christ lives in death. His immortal spirit feels not the stroke which smites his body. It dies not, but changes the place and the manner of its life. Instead of li\dng in the wilderness on that food which our heavenly Father sends down from heaven for our support ; it then passes over Jordan, and enters Canaan, where the tree of life flourisheth with im- mortal vigour, "bearing twelve manner of fruits, and yielding its fi'uits every month." It feeds not there on Christ presented on the gospel table, and served up in gospel ordinances. The bread of life is served up to the living in Jerusalem, in a more splendid and sumptuous manner ; they eat their bread with more relish, and drink their wine with a merrier heart ; they are " abundantly satisfied with the fatness of God's house," and " drink of the river of God's pleasures." The manna failed when Israel entered Canaan, because then they needed it not ; other pro\dsion was then given them. Ordinances Avill cease, when we enter into the better country; but other provi- sion, difierent from what is presented now in the gospel, we shall have none. " He that overcometh" must even then " eat of the hidden manna ; " for Christ is the food of souls in heaven as well as on earth. This is what preserves souls perpetually alive. Here we live by faith ; there we shall live by vision ; l)ut while on earth, and when in heaven, Jesus is the bread on which we live ; and living by him, death hath no power over us ; for " if a man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever." I have detained you long, and as I have studied to be practical in what I have said, I shall refer the particular improvement of the subject till afterwards ; and conclude at present -with one advice. 306 THE BREAD OF LIFE. Ask your bread from God. The ravens " seek their food from God," and he hears their cry ; and shall the instincts of nature prevail over the voice of reason ? Had we any sense of the starving condition of our souls, or of the suitableness, and sufficiency of Christ, the bread of life, to relieve their necessities, it would not be necessary to enforce this exhorta- tion. Felt need would lead us to communicate our Avants to him who is able to supply. You cannot pm'chase the bread of life, and you cannot live without it. Wliy then be ashamed to beg it ? It is no disgrace to beg from God ; to ask from him what he only can give, and what he has promised to give. He is oiFended Avith no man because of his importunity ; his ear delights to hear the cry of the poor, Avho desire to be fed even with the crumbs which fall from his table. His heart is not niggard ; his hand is not penurious. He has no greater pleasure than to communicate freely, liberally, abundantly of the bread of life. Let, then, this be your cry, "Lord, evermore give us this bread." And Avhile Jesus is served up this day, not only on the gospel, but on the sacramental table, be earnest Avith him, that you may not be " sent empty away." Cry that he may satisfy you Avith the abundance of his house. Shall there be bread enough in my father's house, and I be left to perish with hunger ? Shall others be filled, and I left empty ? Shall mine ears hear of the bread of life, mine eyes see, my hands handle, my mouth taste, the sacramental emblems of this bread, and yet my poor perishing soul never taste one raoi'sel ? I am unworthy ; I deserve not such provision. " Truth, Lord, yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's table." " Our father which art in heaven, give us this day our daily bread." Amen. ADDRESS AT THE TABLE, I have said much to you concerning the Lord Jesus Christ as the bread of life, and I hope you Avill not be displeased, if I begin again to commend him. I lind five epithets given to THE BREAD OF LIFE. 307 Christ as bread, in Scripture, each of which is commGiiclatory of him : He is " the living bread ;" " the true bread ;" " the spiritual bread;" "the bread of God;" and "the bread of life." The living bread; for " he has life in himself." " I am he that liveth and was dead, and, behold, I am alive for ever- more." The true bread; "My Father giveth you the true bread from heaven ; " true, in opposition to the manna, which was only the shadow and type; and true in opposition to every thing, which a wicked heart or a wicked devil would substitute in place of it, as the food of the soul. The sjnritnal bread ; " I would not have you ignorant how our fathers did all eat the same spiritual meat ; " and that meat was Christ, which the manna prefigured : spiritual meat, because he can be discovered only by the spiritual eye, can be partaken of only in a spiritual manner, and is profitable only for spiritual uses ; for the nourishment and life of the soul. The bread of God; "the bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life to the world ;" the bread of God, because bread of God's providing, of God's preparing, and which God bestows. In fine, he is styled in the text, the bread of life. But why speak in general terms of the excellencies of this bread ? This bread is savoury food, better, infinitely better than that savoury food which the soul of old Isaac loved so well. It is the choicest delicacy of heaven. What are those delicate dishes under which the table of the epicure groans, to the bread of life ? Eating of this bread creates no satiety. It loses nothing of its relish by frequent use. No. To them that believe Christ is precious, and the more he is tasted, the quicker the spiritual appetite, and the greater the relish the soul has for him. To those who have by faith once tasted of Christ, the coarse fare of the world loses all its relish ; the gross enjoyments of sensual pleasure cloy the appetite, and are turned from with disgust. But who ever tasted of this food, and said, "my soul loatheth it?" Many have no relish for Christ ; but, ah! miserable men, it is because they never tasted how good he is. Those who have tasted of Christ would not 308 THE BREAD OF LIFE. exchange one morsel of the spiritual provision, for all the ■world's store ; and I will give more credit to the testimony of one that knows this from experience, than to the contemptible expressions of a thousand " strangers in Israel," who never eat of Israel's food; and who while they depreciate it, " neither know what they say, nor whereof they affirm." The bread of life gives a relish to everything with which it is served up. Is there anything sweet in the Scriptures ? Yes. " How sweet is thy word unto my taste ! it is sweeter than honey to my mouth ;" and whence is this but from the bread of life, the Lord Jesus, contained in the Scriptures ? Is there anything sweet in the promises ? They are all " precious ; " the soul feasts upon them ; and whence this sweetness ? It is because Christ is in the promises, and " they are all yea and Amen in Christ." Is thei-e anything sweet in the ordinances ? Much pleasure has been found in them ; all saints relish them ; and whence ? Whence is it, but because Christ is in the ordinances, and there imparts himself to the believing soul. Yea, such sweetness is in the bread of life, that it turns the bitter of this world's trials and crosses into sweets. Even affliction is sweet when Christ sanctifies it, and is pi'esent to the distressed soul. But as the bread of life is savoury, so it is also satisfying food. The sickly appetite of man is ever for variety. It seeks continually for change ; for it is satisfied with none. No sooner is an enjoyment, long and ardently sought, obtained, than we desire, "with equal ardour, some new and different enjoyment. The world flatters and disappoints us. We are the dupes of its specious professions. But it is not so with Chi'ist. Christ in possession is better than in hope ; more is found in him than we could have credited till we tasted. "My soul shall be satisfied, as with maiTow and fatness." " He that comcth to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth in me shall never thirst." Have you no desire to taste again of the bread of life ? Has it left a desire on your souls again to cat of this savoury and THE BREAD OF LIFE. 309 satisfying food ? " Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness ; for they shall be filled." Behold the bread of life, ready prepared, served up on the sacramental table, and in these elements welcome to your use. By faith feed upon him. " Eat, O friends, drink, yea drink abundantly, O beloved." " The Lord Jesus," &c. " In like manner," &c. What think you of this bread ? Is it not true that he said, " my tlesh is meat indeed, and my blood, drink indeed?" Is not "his fruit SAveet unto your taste?" It is not enough that you have once or twice eaten, by faith, of the bread of life. You must do it again ; you must live upon it. The bread of life is l>roJitahle food. A^^lat profit, say you, arises fi'om the use of it ? much every way. You have a long journey before you, a jour- ney from the wilderness to Immanuel's land ; a journey through a rugged and inhospitable land; and if you attempt to go forward without taking the bi'ead of life with you, and living upon it, you -VAoll undoubtedly faint by the way. When the prophet Elijah had gone a day's journey in the wilderness, on his way to Horeb, the mount of God, he sat down, fatigued, under a juniper tree. A cake baken on the coals, was presented befoi-e him, and an angel touched him, and said, " arise, and eat." He did so ; but a second time the angel touched him, and said unto him, " arise, and eat, for the journey is too great for thee." The same advice the God of angels gives to you. You have ate by faith of the bread of life ; but this is not enough ; you must do it again, and often " arise, and eat, for the journey is too great for thee." Your strength will fail you in the way to heaven, if you live not by faith. But living on Christ, you will experience strength inwardly in your souls. You shall be able to " hold on your way," and " go from strength to strength, till you appear in Zion before God." Like Elijah, who " went in the strength of that meat, forty days and forty nights, unto Horeb the mount of God." Again, live upon Christ the bread of life, for other^vase you will be unfit for the duties of your christian calling. The 310 THE BREAD OF LIFE. labouring man must be supported by food, otherwise he would not be able to pex-form his labour. And hoAV can you perform any of the duties, or any of the services of the christian life, if you indulge in abstinence ? You can labour only as you are supplied out of the fulness of Christ. " Without him you can do nothing." As therefore you desire to abound in the labours of love to the God of your salvation, as you desire to be useful in the world, employ the only means by which you can be so. Live by the faith of Christ. Again, live thus, for otherwise you shall not have courage nor ability to fight against your enemies. Jonathan was faint Avith the toil of battle, and the fatigue of long pursuit. He dipped his rod in a honeycomb, and tasted, and it is added, " his eyes Avere enlightened." Make similar use of the bread of life. Take of it. It wiU enable you to renew the battle with the enemies of your souls ; it Avill revive your languid souls, and enlighten those eyes which were beginning to turn dim by fasting and excessive toil. We can overcome only by the sti*ength of Christ. Once more ; liA^e on this bread, for othei'Avise, how can you gi'OAv to the stature and vigour of the perfect man ? The child gradually becomes a man by the seasonable and necessaiy quantity of AAdiolesome food ; and early pinching checks his growth. You are yet in childhood, you need to be nourished, you are far fi-om " the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." Make use then of the bread of life. This aa'III accelerate your spiritual growth, and will add to your spiritual strength. Use it not sparingly; the provision is good ; be not afraid of repletion ; in this case, you cannot suffer by excess. Thus fed, you shall arrive at maturity in due time. In heaven you shall not thus feed. You shall live for ever on Christ, but not by faith. Then shall you know better than noAv, hoAV sweet, and savoury ; how satisfying, and hoAV profitable, the bread of life is. Amen. REDEMPTION THE GROUND OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 311 XI. REDEMPTION THE GROUND OF UNIVERSAL JOY. Isaiah xliv. 23. — " Sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it ; Shout, ye lower parts of tlie earth ; break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." There is a sublimity and force in these words of the prophet, which must be felt by every person of taste who hears them pronounced, and which can be surpassed only by the grandeur of the subject to which they refer. The passage is in the highest style of poetry. It gives life and feeling to the inani- mate parts of creation. It endows all nature with a capacity to understand, and with a voice to celebrate the marvellous grace of the Redeemer of men. It demands it as a duty of the heavens and the earth, of the mountains and the forests, to rejoice in the redemption of Israel, and to join Avith the redeemed in one general chorus of praise. " Sing, O ye heavens ; for the Lord hath done it : shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein ; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." Is the spiritual man mad ? is the prophet full of new wine, that he calls on the deaf to hear, and on the dumb to sing ? No. But his soul is enraptured with the contemplation of the transcendant greatness and grace of the work of human re- demption. He feels it as a subject, of all others, most calcu- lated to inspire every rational soul with the noblest and most ecstatic joy ; and kindled by it himself, he labours to kindle in 312 REDEMPTION THE GROUND every breast the same warm sentiments of gratitude, to excite in every heart the same lively sensations of joy, and to call forth from every tongue the same triumphant expressions of praise to the great author of salvation. This touches his hal- " lowed lips >\'ith fire, this makes his language glow with a divine warmth, burn with a celestial fervour, exceeded only by the language of those, who, dwelling in Zion, see the work of redemption in all its greatness, and enjoy it in all its sweet- ness, and, therefore, can celebrate it and the God that wrought it, in sublimer strains. " Sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it : shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein ; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." The doctrine of the text, when stripped of its poetical orna- ment, is, That the redemption op sinners by Christ is GROUND OP UNIVERSAL JOY. I shall attempt, but not with Isaiah's fire, to illustrate this truth in the following manner. I shall, first, consider the ground of this universal joy, " for the Lord hath done it : for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." I shall, in the second place, speak of the universality of this joy, as suggested by the poetical address to " the heavens," to " the lower parts of the earth," to " the mountains," to " the forests," and " every tree therein" to rejoice. And, thirdly, I shall speak of the manner in which this joy must be expressed, as it may be collected from the call to " sing," to " shout," and to " break forth into singing." May the Lord, who hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel, enable us to understand the subject, and feel its import- ance, and, believing it, to rejoice "with joy unspeakable, and full of glory ! Amen. I. I shall, first, consider the ground of this universal JOY. It is expressed in these words of the text ; for the Lord bath done it ; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel. It may be stated in four particulars : It is OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 813 redemption ; it is the I'edemption of Jacob and Israel ; it is the redemption T;\T0ught by the Lord, for the Lord hath done it ; it is a redemption in which God is glorified, for the Lord, in redeeming Jacob, hath glorified himself in Israel, 1. The gi'ound of this universal joy, for which the prophet so earnestly calls, is redemption. And who that considers the nature of that redemption of which lie speaks, but must admit that it lays the most solid founda- tion for the liveliest and most unbounded joy ? It is a spiritual redemption, complete in all its parts, and eternal in its duration. It is sphitual; and this increases its value, and is calculated to multiply the joy of the happy thousands who obtain it. A temporal deliverance will excite joy, great in proportion to the evils felt or apprehended from which we are by it rescued, and to the advantages which, in consequence of it, we enjoy. A spiritual deliverance must excite joy in the same proportion. But who will undertake to show that there is any comparison between a temporal and a spiritual redemption in either of these respects? The greatest temporal deliverance respects only our condition in this world. It affects not our state as it respects the God that made us, or the future world in which we must for ever dwell. "NVlien the oppressed is deli- vered from the stern tyranny of some relentless lord, and attains the possession of civil and political liberty ; when the captive is brought out of the prison in which he was detained, and is restored to his country, his possessions, and his friends ; when the slave is emancipated from bondage, is delivered from the chain, the whip, or the oar, and tastes the pleasures of free- dom, he has acquired nothing which has any value beyond the short period of human life, or which can enable him to look up to God with more confidence, or forward to futurity with less fear. He may be still the slave of the devil, the wi'etched drudge of every vile lust; accursed of God, and doomed to misery as the reward of his crimes. But a spiritual redemp- tion operates a change infinitely more important in our state. It sets us free from severer bondage, and restores us to nobler o 314 REDEMPTION THE GROUND liberty. It delivers us from tlie greatest conceivable evils, and confers upon us the most substantial and lasting good. Before he obtains it, how wretched is the sinner's lot ! In bondage to the law, which, like a rigid taskmaster, exacts service which be cannot perform, and denounces, for disobedience, sufferings which he cannot endure ; under servitude to a thousand base lusts, all of them tyrannical, and Avhich continually war in his members for dominion, but never pay the wretched slave for his service, Avith anything but fair promises, severe disappoint- ment, and certain misery ; the bond servant of the world, the devil, and the flesh, compelled to perform many a hard task, and mean and disgraceful as it is hard and painful, without better fare at present than the husks which the swine do eat, and without better wages in future for his labour than destruc- tion and death. But behold him in possession of this redemp- tion ; and how gi'eat, and blessed the change ! He is no more under the law, but under gi'ace. He is redeemed from its curse, enjoying the divine favour as his unalienable portion, and walks at liberty under no subjection except to Christ's yoke, which is as light and easy as it is honourable, and exempted from the spirit of bondage and the fear of punish- ment. The prison doors have been thrown open ; the prisoner has escaped ; and never more can he be taken captive by the devil at his Avill, or be subjected to the cruel domination of those lusts which formerly reigned in his members. But this is not all. The redemption of which we speak is not only of the most excellent kind, but it is complete in all its parts. Tell me what is awanting in it to render the redeemed man completely, inexpressibly happy? Is there one circum- stance in his case which ought to bow down his soul in hope- less sorrow ? or leave him to regret that his deliverance has been only in part ? He is restored to all the happiness which by sin he lost, as well as delivered from all the misery which' sin had entailed on him. He is freed at once from a hell here in the accusations of a guilty conscience, and from a hell hereafter in the place of destined misery. He is reinstated OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 3l£> in the divine favour of wliicli he had been justly deprived, re-admitted into the family of God, from which he had been banished, restored to familiar intercourse with heaven, from which he had been excluded. Yea, more : this redemption, which is now complete in all its parts, will soon be complete also in degree. If he fears the Egyptians pursuing him ; if he trembles because of the number and warlike array of their host, he shall soon see them lying on the shore, or floating on the waves, dead men. If he trembles because of the Canaanites who took him captive, and have long been thorns in his eyes and scourges in his sides, soon not a Canaanite shall be left in the land. His redemption, of which, when called by grace, he ob- tains the begun possession, shall, by his progress in holiness, approach nearer to its consummation, till it be completed in glory, in which the redeemed of the Lord shall ever w^alk, beyond the reach of all those that sought their destruction, and eternally freed from every fear of being again subjected to their will. For it must be added, as another peculiar character of this redemption, that it is eternal in its duration. Those who, by a happy concurrence of circumstances, have once vindicated their liberty, may, by want of vigilance, or by superior force, be again subjected to cruel oppression. The captive whose liberty has been purchased by a gi'eat ransom, may fall again into the hands of his enemies ; the liberated slave may yet again be brought into bondage. But never, never can the redeemed of the Lord suffer such calamity. The price paid for their deliverance needs never a second time to be laid down. The power that rescued is sufficient always to protect them, and Avill be exerted for their protection. Happy men ! Redeemed from guilt, in their justification, they are for ever freed from condemnation and death. Redeemed from the bondage of sin and Satan in their regeneration, they are eter- nally freed from the law of sin, and extricated from the snare of the devil. The fears to which they are often unhappily subject shall be most completely disappointed; the sorrows which afflicted them shall be turned into joy ; and all their 316 REDEMPTION THE GROUND painful struggles terminate in %'ictory. The blessings of re- demption are secured to tliem beyond the possibility of loss. The treasure of theu* happiness is safe till the throne of God be overturned, and the reign of Jehovah come to an end. It is, therefore, for ever safe : it cannot terminate. " The ran- somed of the Lord shall return" from the land of their cap- tivity, " and come to Zion," where God dwells, " with songs and everlasting joy ; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and soiTow and sighing shall flee away," never more to return. Is this the redemption of which the prophet speaks ? Is it spiritual in its nature, complete in all its parts, and eternal in its duration ? And does it not aiford reason for the most unfeigned and unsj)eakable joy? What temporal deliverance is equally calculated to inspire it ? Is it meet that the con- demned criminal rejoice when the sentence of death is recalled by royal favour, and the prison doors thrown open to him tliat was bound ? Is it meet that the slave celebrate with songs the day of his release ? And is it not a higher duty, and have we not greater reason, to celebrate our redemption from guilt and misery, to life, and liberty, and everlasting joy? This gi'eat salvation shall also have a song. " Gi'eat things have been done for us," and therefore we shall be glad : help us, " ye heavens," to rejoice ; and join with us, " ye lower parts of the earth," in our joy ; " break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein ; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." 2. The ground of this universal joy for which the prophet calls, is the redemption of Jacob and Israel. If the general nature of the redemption mentioned in the text demonstrates, as we have seen, that it is gi-eat cause of joy, the evidence of the truth wiU be much strengthened by the consideration of the persons who obtain it. For whom is this gi'eat redemption wrought? "For Jacob," says the prophet, "and Israel:" not for two distinct classes of people, for Jacob and Israel are one people under two different names, poetically interchanged, as in many other passages of the same OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 317 prophet. But to Avliat people does the prophet refer, wlien he speaks of redemption -wrought for Jacob and Israel ? Were we to understand his words in the letter, as meant of any temporal deliverance, we should consider him as speaking of the nation of Israel, the postei'ity of the patriarch Jacob. But in the case before us, " they are not all Israel who are of Israel ; " and this nation can be considered only as the type of the nation of the spiritually redeemed. The designation in the text suggests to us a threefold view of the persons for whom redemption was wrought, each calculated to illustrate its natui'e, and to show that it is ground of exceeding joy. It has been wrought for men, unworthy of it, and chosen by God to enjoy it. It has been wrought for men, of the race of Adam, as were Jacob and Israel. This consideration brings the matter home to our own business and bosoms, and calls on us to attend to it as a matter in which we ourselves are deeply interested. The redemption of some foreign race of beings could afford useful subject of speculation, and might awaken our curiosity, and excite our admiration. But, from the constitution of our nature, the want of interest would much diminish, if not pre- vent our joy. Tell vis of the redemption of fallen angels, we may wonder and inquire ; but, because we are men, the subject is deficient in interest sufficient to awaken us ; and if we ex- perienced the same necessity, and were not included in the gi'acious deliverance, the information, instead of exciting joy, would create the most exquisite distress. But this redemption has every thing in it to interest our hearts. AYliile it is a redemption that we greatly need, it is redemption designed for our benefit. Man is the subject of it ; mean, worthless, perishing man ; man who, had it not been wrought for him, must have lived and died accursed, must have lived the wretched slave of the devil and the flesh, and at death have gone to the place of punishment, and languished eternally in hopeless despair. " Lord, what is man, that thou wast mind- ful of him ; and the son of man, that thou visitedst him ? " 318 • REDEMPTIOX THE GROUND This suggest? a second and still more intei'esting view of the persons for whom this redemption was wrought : They are persons unworthy of the redemption which has been A\Tought for them. Had we not been sinners we would not have needed it ; because we are sinners, we do not deserve it. God often in his word reminds the tribes of Jacob of their rebellion, and of their other crimes, and assures them that the deliverances which he wrought for them proceeded fi'om his mercy, and not from their merit. And he addresses the people, whom by his grace he redeems fi-om eternal misery in the same terms. " Not for your sakcs do I this, saith the Lord God, be it known unto you ; be ashamed and confounded for your own ways, O house of Israel." Sin and misery are connected together as cause and eflfect ; the one produces and deserves the other. It was our sin that subjected us to that guilt, and exposed us to that misery from which we are redeemed. We were sold for our crimes into the hands of our enemies, and we had added yet more to our guilt by loving our chains, by forgetting our God, and taking delight in the service of those " other lords which had dominion over us." Is this the true state of the case ? Had we " sold ourselves to do evil ? " Did we take pleasure in doing " those things which are worthy of death," and offer ourselves willingly as " the servants of sin ? " Then our destruction must have been of merit ; our redemption can have been only of grace. Had we been dealt with according to our sins, or rewarded after our iniquities, then we should not now have been blessed ^vith opportunity to hear of a complete redemption, nor admitted to celebrate it with songs of joy : we should have been bewailing our folly in the place of punish- ment, when suffering the reward of our crimes. Redemption is entirely a work of gi'ace. Grace abounds even more than sin abounded in us. Grace reigns in every part of it unto eternal life. Grace laid the wonderful plan ; grace reared the noble superstructure ; and the chief stone shall be put on it " with shoutings, grace, gi'ace unto it." And if redemption be all of grace, how much must this consideration increase the joy of OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 319 the believing soul ? "What praise is due by every one whom God has redeemed, for a salvation so great, and yet so free 1 "VVTiich shall we most admire in the contemplation of it, the unworthiness of those whom gi'ace redeems, or the superabun- dance of that grace by which their redemption has been elFected '? Whether shall we rejoice most exceedingly in the redemption of Christ, and sing loudest in the Redeemer's praise, when we reflect on the greatness or the grace of this salvation ? The grace of it is the highest note in the songs of the blessed ; it shall be highest also in mine. " My mouth shall show forth thy righteousness and thy salvation all the day, for I know not the numbers thereof." " I will also praise thee with the psaltery, even thy truth, O my God : unto thee will I sing with the harp, 0 thou holy one of Israel. My lips shall greatly rejoice Avhen I sing unto thee ; and my soul which thou hast redeemed." " For thou didst remember us in our low estate ; for thy mercy endureth for ever ; and redeemed its from our enemies ; for thy grace faileth never." There is yet a third view of the persons for whom this redemption has been wrought, which loudly demands our songs of praise. They are persons chosen by God to the enjoyment of it. The Israel of God, redeemed by his grace, are, like the ancient Israel, but in another sense, " a peculiar people, and a chosen generation." Redemption is a deliverance wrought for some, not for all. The grace so conspicuous in it is dis- tinguishing and sovereign. If Ave inquire respecting the highly favoured individuals, I can only say, that " the Lord knoweth" whom he hath chosen, and that they themselves shall know it Avhen he enables them by his gi*ace, in the faith of his salvation, " to make their election sure." And if we inquire further con- cerning the character of those whom he has chosen, and the reasons of his choice, I reply in the words of Moses to Israel according to the flesh : " The Lord did not set his love upon them, or choose them, because they were more in number than other people," or in any i-espect better or more worthy; " but because the Lord loved them." The redeemed were in 320 REDEMPTION THE GROUND every respect like other men ; grace hatli made a distinction, but it found none. A reason cannot be assigned why they were redeemed from all evil, while others are left to perish ; but this one reason, " Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight." The Lord meant to illustrate and glorify his gi-ace in its freedom and sovereignty ; and, therefore, " he hath had mercy on whom he would have mercy." Astonishing dispensation ! Hath God looked on man, and left the angels that fell to perish unpitied? Hath he chosen some to life, and left others, not more criminal, and equally necessitous, to die in their sins ? And shall not redeemed men adore and praise ? " Sing, O ye heavens," &c. 3. The ground of this imiversal joy for which the prophet calls, is a redemption wrought ly the Lord — " for the Lord hath done it." Indeed I know of none but the Lord equal to such a work. It is, as much as creation, a divine work ; and none but he who gave being to all this system of things which our eyes behold, and of which we ourselves form a part, possessed ^visdom to plan, or grace to undertake, or power to effect this great work. In magnitude, the work of salvation has no rival. It was not merely to deliver sinners from the greatest misery, and bless them with the noblest happiness ; it was to do all this, in the best, and, indeed, in the only practicable man- ner, to the glory of God. And for this, who was sufficient but he that did it? where was the wisdom, but in God the Father, to devise a method of redemption which should not only not violate the honour of any of the divine attributes, but so completely reconcile their apparently opposite interests, as that each of them should be glorified ? "Where was the grace but in God the Son to undertake a work, I say not so hazard- ous, but so certainly subjecting to the most excruciating pains as the work of human redemption, and to persevere in tlie generous design, and without recoiling go through it, at the expense of floods of tears and streams of blood ? Or where the power but in God the Spirit, to break the sinner's chains, to OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 321 subdue in him his enemies, and bring him forth to Hfe, to light, to liberty and joy ? He Avho only could, hath intex'posed in behalf of miserable man. " The Lord hath done it; the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." WTiile, howevei", we are called to contemplate the agency of all the sacred Three in this work, we are called more im- mediately to contemplate the agency of that person, whose peculiar province it was to accomplish the redemption of Israel. In general, salvation is of the Lord ; but in a peculiar sense, the Son of God is the Redeemer of men ; for he alone by his labours and sufferings effected it. Let us meditate on the works of his hands, and speak of all his wondrous deeds. I speak not of his engagements before all worlds, though these must ever endear him to every redeemed soul ; I speak of the actual execution of the work in which he so early and so frankly engaged ; " for the Lord hath done it." When did he this gi'eat work ? By what means hath he done it ? How hath he done it ? Let us answer these questions. When did the Son of God accomplish the redemption of Jacob, and glorify himself in Israel ? In the dm/s of Jus flesh. This was the only reason why the Son of God was made in the likeness of sinful flesh, and dwelt among us ; and this the only work in which he was engaged, during the three and thirty years of his afflicted life. He spoke not one word, he performed not one action, he endured not one pain, during all this long period of sorrow, which had not some relation to the redemption of his people. All the while, he was employed in the work which his Father had given him to do ; and he was, at no moment, either averse to it, or slack in the performance. A holy zeal for his Father's glory, and for his people's happi- ness, inflamed his soul, and how was he straitened until he had accomplished it ! He was so many years engaged in it, not from want either of power, or of diligence and zeal, but because he wished to do it well, and because it could not be effected in less time, or ■s\'ith one degree of less labour, or one pang less of sorrow. He was so long in commencing his work, 322 REDEMPTION THE GROUND not because of aversion to it, but because sooner would not have been the best, the proper time. An hour beyond this, he tarried not. Long before he had girt himself for labour, and stood ready, saying, " Lo, I come, 1 delight to do thy will." He waited only for the arrival of " the fulness of time." He tarried till he received his Father's commandment ; and then, that moment he made haste, borne on the swift AAnngs of love, from his native skies, to succour us in our extremity, and redeem our souls from destruction. But by what means did the Son of God accomplish the redemption of Jacob, and glorify himself in Israel ? By strange, yet wise means ; by the only method in which it was possible to effect it ; by labours and by blood. He spake the word, and the world was made. He had to suffer, before it could be redeemed. He had to give his life a ransom for many. Strange means, yet not more strange than true ! " We Tiave redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace." " For we are not redeemed with corruptible things, such as silver and gold, but with tlie precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish, and without spot." Other means could not have effected the gracious purpose of his heart. This Jesus knew ere he under- took it, and it gloriously illustrates his love, that he chose to redeem us, though at such expense. He was not surprised by one difficulty in his way, of which he was not aware ; nor was he overtaken by one circumstance of sorrow, for which he was not prepared. He knew the interests of the divine glory too well, to imagine that another but himself could effect the redemption of perishing sinners ; or that even he could accomplish it Avithout painful labours and bloody suffer- ings. He did not attempt, therefore, to carry off the prisoners of law and justice, either by violence or by stealth. It Avas an honourable work in which he Avas engaged, and he employed only fair and honourable means. He paid doAvn the price, the full price ; and a mighty sum it AA-as, full value for the souls of his redeemed, precious as they are, and for the happi- OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 323 ness tliey enjoy, great as it unquestionably is. He purchased our redemption by his own blood. Why did he sweat in Geth- semane, and bleed on Calvary ? Why did he live reproached, and die accursed ? It Avas because this Avas the price at which only he could obtain eternal redemption for us. The law and justice of God, could descend no lower in their demands. Though it was the Son of God who offered to purchase our release, yet, by such a purchaser, so dearly and so deservedly beloved, it could be obtained at no easier rate. Either the Kedeemer must die, or the sentence of the law must be executed on the criminals themselves. God must be just, though a world should perish ; the law be satisfied, else the prisoners cannot escape. Hence, all those soitows which afflicted the soul, all those pains which excruciated the body of the divine Kedeemer ; hence, those tears, those gi'oans, that sweat, that blood. All formed so many parts of the mighty sum paid for our redemption. A part would have been useless ; it would not have profited us, though he had laboured, if he had not suffered ; though he had suffei-ed, if he had not died. Death was our desert, an accursed death, a death by the hand of justice, and bitter as hell ; and lie died. " He gave his life a ransom for many." " Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us." But there is one inquiry of more importance on this part of the subject. How hath the Lord done it? In what manner hath " the Lord redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel ? " We are already prepared for the answer. He hath done it in a manner worthy of himself; in the completest and most perfect manner. He began it well, and he finished it gloriously. It cannot be said to the reproach of our Jesus, " This man began to build, but was not able to finish." He sat down ere he put forth his hand, " and counted the cost ;" and he found that he possessed the necessary sum, and was willing to part with it, for so noble a purpose. What could not the labours of the Son of God accomplish ? What could not blood divine effect ? His very word could remove moun- 324 REDEMPTION THE GROUND tains ; his blood must have been able to purchase worlds. One drop of it was more valuable than the cattle on a thousand hills ; was more precious than the gold of the Brazils, and all the diamonds of Hindostan. His life's blood, all shed for the remission of sins, must have had an infinite value, must have fully atoned the justice of the Father, and completely satisfied all the demands of the law. And it did this. " I have glorified thee on the earth ; I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do." He shrunk not from sufferings, till the law said, It is enough. He bowed not his head, till with his dying breath he could say, "It is finished." "The Lox-d hath done it;" he hath done it so completely, that a farthing need never be added to the perfect sum. He hath done it so entirely to his Father's approbation, that he " hath raised him from the dead, and given him glory." He hath done it so gloriously, that devils cannot, dare not, and his Father will not, oppose the salvation of any one of the millions for whom Christ died. He hath done it with such efficacy, that the commandment has gone forth from the throne of God, " Deliver from going down to the pit, for I have found a ransom." He hath done it so entirely to the mind of every believing soul, that " this is all their salvation and all their desire," He hath done it, and accursed be the man that thinks he can add to it, or will not rest his salvation entirely on it. He hath done it. " Sing, 0 ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it ; and shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, ye mountains ; O forest and every tree therein, for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel ! " 4. The ground of this universal joy, for which the prophet calls, is a redemption in ivhich God is glorified ; for the Lord, in redeeming Jacob, hath glorified himself in Israel. Redemption could not have been effected at all, if not to the glory of God ; for the divine glory must ever have been dearer to him, and a higher object, than the happiness of any number of self-ruined creatures. Or, if it were possible to con- OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 325 ceive of a redemption, in which the interests of the divine glory were overlooked, how much would it diminish, with every holy soul, the joy of it, to think that as much as the sinner gained in happiness, God lost in praise ? But this i-edemption most happily unites these two most valuable objects ; for in it God is glorified in the highest, while men are saved to the utter- most. The plan of redemption was laid in such marvellous wisdom, that all the interests of the divine glory were con- sulted, and the work itself has been executed with such wonderful skill, that every part of the divine intention has been completely answered. When the Son of God engaged in the work, the Father had the most entire confidence in his ability and skill. He committed the concerns of his glory to him, in full persuasion that he would never lose sight of this object, nor fail in attaining it. He said unto him, " Thou art my servant, O Israel, in whom I will be glorified ; " and it was done, as the Father expected. In the ardour of his soul for this object, the Son of God cried out, when suffering, " Father, glorify thy name !" and it was as he prayed. " Now is the Son of man glorified, and God is glorified in him." " I have glorified thee on the earth ; I have finished the work thou gavest me to do." But how is God glorified in this work "? His perfections are all of them glorified, glorified in most delightful harmony, glorified in the highest degree. God hath glorified all his perfections in the redemption of Israel. In the ci'eation of the world, some of the divine perfections are displayed ; others in the government of the world ; but in its redemption, all of the glorious perfections of the divine nature shine conspicuous. I survey creation, and discover evident marks of the power, the wisdom, and the goodness of the great Creator. I contemplate the work of his providence, and can perceive, in addition to these, many traces of the rectitude of the divine administration. But when I turn my wondering eyes toward the redemption of sinners, I see, written in characters the most legible, not only the power, 32G REDEMPTION THE GROUND the wisdom, the goodness of God ; not only the rectitude of his nature; but his holiness, his faithfulness, his mercy, grace, and love. Perfections shine in the redemption of Israel, of ■which we are able to discover no traces in any of God's other works, and of which, had we had no other means of knowing God, we must have been entirely ignorant ; and even those wliich may be discovered in them, here shine with more resplendent lustre. God appears nowhere so glorious, as in the face of Jesus. The divine character, as exhibited in the person and work of the Redeemer, appears all o^•er glorious ; a sun everywhere luminous, without one dark spot, and shining with more than meridian glory. Say, if you can, what perfection of the divine nature is not here displayed, and with infinite advantage ? Look at the plan of redemption ; where can we behold msdom so manifold, so full of deep contrivance, so consummate, so profound ? Look at the execution of the plan ; when was ever seen power so vast, so astonishing in its operations, so full of energy "? The holiness of the divine nature I can perceive in the law, which is indeed a fair transcript of it ; but the gospel is a brighter glass, and reflects this part of the divine image with more glory ; for here I see even the innocent not spared, when he has substi- tuted himself in the room of the guilty ; indignation testified in its most aAvful forms against sin, even in the person of God's best Beloved ; by his obedience, the precept of the law fulfilled ; by his sufferings, its penalties endured ; in his sorrowful life, and cursed death, the law magnified and made honourable. If I look abroad into the world, I can observe many things in the divine dispensations, which remind me of the divine faithfulness in the execution of the threatenings of his law, and which assure me that God is just to punish the guilty. Could I look down to hell, I should see these perfec- tions illustrated in more awful forms. But not all the judgments inflicted in this world on guilty nations and guilty individuals ; not all the punishments Avhich fill up the cup of unmingled misery, the dregs of which are drunk by the OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 327 damned, give such an awful display of the divine veracity in inflicting the judgments threatened in the law, and of the divine justice in punishing sin as it deserves. Here the full flood of the Almighty's vengeance is seen poured out on the devoted head of the great Surety; here all the curses denounced on the sinner are executed on the Son of the Blessed, when he bare our sins in his own body on the tree. I speak not of the divine goodness, for more than goodness is here apparent. In creation, goodness shines ; in providence, divine patience, for- bearance, long-suffering; but in redemption, love, love ineffable, mercy infinite, grace superabounding and triumphant. Of these, nature in all her works, is silent ; if we inquire at her, whether God is merciful to save the miserable, and gracious to pardon the guilty, she retains an awful silence, or speaks Avith faultering lips a language which we cannot understand. But herein is love ; herein mercy is pi'oclaimed ; herein grace appears glorious and enthroned. Redemption is to the praise of the glory of his grace. It is hei-e seen that God is " plenteous in mercy ;" is "rich in mercy;" "delighteth in mercy." Grace doth here "much more abound," than sin ever abounded in us. It " reigns through righteousness unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord." But I have not said all when I say that the divine perfec- tions are all glorified in the redemption of Israel : they are, moreover, glorified in most delightful harmony. Inconceivable obstructions Avere in the way of the sinner's redemption, obstructions which assembled angels could not have devised how to remove. Mei'cy and justice seemed to speak a different language. While justice bade smite, mercy cried, spare the guilty. If the guilty be punished, as justice demands, where is mercy? if spared, as mercy entreats, where is justice ? How shall mercy to man, and truth to the threatening of the law, meet together ? By what means shall the righteousness of the divine government and the peace of the rebel creature be made in amity to embrace and kiss each other ? By the means which the divine wisdom hath invented. Behold, in rcdemp- 328 REDEMPTION THE GROUND tion by the ci'oss of Christ, the glory of the divine perfections shining ^\^th united splendour, thus mingle their rays, height- ening by their joint effect the glory of each, and rendering the whole an assemblage of glory worthy of God, and wonderful in the eyes of every beholder. See here, God merciful to the sinner, but severe to the Saviour. See here, sin punished, yet the offender spared ; justice executed in all its rigour, yet grace manifested in all its abundance ; God merciful when he spai'es not ; just when he forgives : " Gloi'y to God in the highest, while thei'e is peace on earth, and good will towards men." It follows from this that in the redemption of Jacob God is glorified in the highest degree. More glorified than he was in creating ; more glorified than he would have been in damning the world. Redemption is indeed the chief of the divine works, and from it he brings away the greatest revenue of glory. What addition could have been made to the di^dne glory beyond what is obtained by the redemption effected by the cross ? Could he have more effectually humbled the proud adversary ? or more nobly vindicated the rights of the divine government? How could the law have been so honoured? justice so glorified, grace rendered so illustrious ? The laAV has been obeyed by angels ; it would have been the honour of man had he persevered in duty : But in Christ the law has been fulfilled ; it has had the greatest conceivable honour put on it by the dignity of the Redeemer who obeyed it : and has been magnified by the perfection of the obedience Avhicli he rendered. Justice had often before been executed ; it shall be eternally executed in the punishment of the damned ; here only has it been satisfied, so that it has not one additional demand to make, nor one reason to present wliy the guilty should not be saved. And is not sucli a dispensation in which God is glorified, glorified in all the perfections of his nature, glorified in tliem in tlieir most delightful hai'mony, glorified in the highest conceivable degree ; is not such a dispensation ground of universal joy? May not the heavens sing since the OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 329 Lord hath done it; the lower parts of the earth shout in Jehovah's praise ? May not the mountains break forth into singing, the forest and every tree therein, seeing the Lord hath so redeemed Jacob as to glorify himself in Israel ? n. I now proceed more briefly to the second part of the subject, referring the third part of it, as the subject of consider- ation during some pai-ts of the subsequent services of the day. Let me then «peak somewhat concerning the universality op THIS JOT as suggested by the poetical address to the heavens, to the lower parts of the earth, to the mountains, the forest and every tree therein to rejoice. I have already stated the address to be poetical ; yet sure I will neither be departing from the subject nor doing violence to the text, though I now consider it as a call to the church above to rejoice : " Sing, 0 ye heavens;" to the church on earth to sing: " shout, ye lower pai'ts of the earth ; " to all ranks and descriptions of men in the Gentile world to take part in the song : " break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein ;" yea, to nature in all its parts to join in celebrating this work of Jehovah's hands : " Sing, 0 ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it ; and shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein ; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." • 1. Let us consider the prophet as calling to the church above to rejoice in the redemption of Israel. " Sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it." The church above is composed of two great classes of happy beings; of " an innumerable com- pany of angels," and of " the spmts of just men made perfect :" and, in the redemption effected by the cross, there is enough to entertain and delight their minds -with perpetual joy. Angels, I know, cannot rejoice in this salvation as wrought for them- selves ; for it pleased the God that made them, that they should never need it. But I know, also, that they cannot be indifferent to any tiling in which the glory of their Lord is 330 REDEMPTION THE GROUND concerned, or the happiness of any part of his creation. These glorious creatures find their happiness in the contemplation of the divine nature and works ; and I am sure they must derive much increase to their joy, by the study of this greatest of the works of God. They never before had an opportunity of discovering so much of the divine wisdom as they now see in redemption ; nor of learning so much of what divine power and grace can effect. They disdain not to make redemption their study ; for, " into these things the angels desire to look." They welcome the instructions Avhich the divine dispensations, and sinners daily arri^-ing at the regions of joy, afford them respecting it ; for " by the church is made known" to the angels " the manifold Avisdom of God." And can they seek this infor- mation, and be indifferent 1 or gain it, without joy ? No ; these " morning stars sang together," and these " sons of God shouted for joy," when they first beheld the glory of the Creator resplendent in his new formed works; and I know that they now shout Avith more triumph, and sing louder anthems of praise, at the information that " the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." I know it ; for I know that the salvation of one solitary sinner is not a matter of mdifference to them : *' for there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth." I know it ; for they celebrated the birth-day of the church's hopes, the incarnation of the Redeemer, with loud hallelujahs : " Suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men." I know it ; for two of these were clad in white, the dress of joy, when redemption was finished and the Saviour rose ; for twenty thousand of them accompanied with songs the ascend- ing Redeemer, praising him for his gi'acious work ; for " God went up with a shout, the Lord Avith the sound of a trumpet ; " " sing praises," they cried " to God, sing praises ; sing praises to our King, sing praises." I know it; for the man who saw the visions of God hath informed us that this is their present em- ployment around the throne : " I heard the voice of many OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 331 angels round about the throne, and the number of tliem was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and -wasdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing." And shall their songs ever cease ? No ; increasing knowledge will produce among their hosts increase of joy ; and they shall never cease their songs from weariness, or leave them off from want of matter. Ye angels of light, continue to praise him, as I know ye will. " The mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him." " Bless the Lord," on this account, " ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearken- ing to the voice of his word. Bless ye the Lord, all ye his hosts, ye ministers of his that do his pleasure." Need I add, that since angels rejoice, the spirits of just men made perfect have reason to rejoice, and will also sing ? How can they forbear to joy ? — they who see the glory of God in their own redemption; they Avho, in their present state, partake of the blessedness of a redemption wrought for them ? His gloiy has been made great in their salvation ; they knoAv it, and they feel it. In their present state, they are delivered from all the guilt they had contracted, all the misery they deserved, all the sor- rows they once felt. The Lord hath perfected that which con- cerns them ; he hath brought them from the prison to the palace, from the land of sorrow to the place of joy. He hath more than gratified all their wishes, and realized all their expectations. And can they do otherwise than praise the God who " raised them from the dust and lifted them from the dunghill, and has set them with princes on the throne of glory ? " Wlien here, their hearts were often in bad case for praising ; their hai'ps often hung on the willows ; they could not sing for very heaviness of heart. Now, what is there to interrupt their joy, or to discompose their souls ? Now, what exercise more fit for them than continual praise ? or who more fit to sing in loudest anthems than they who drink perpetually of pleasure, who experience unceashig happiness, and know that the Lord hath 332 REDEMPTION THE GROUND done it. Methinks I hear the worship of the skies. How sweet ! how melodious their praises ! Methinks I hear the voice of a great muhitude, " as the voice of many waters, and the voice of mighty thunderings, sapng, AUehiiah, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth ; let us be glad and rejoice and give honour to him." All praise him for redemption ; and each hath notes of praise for the particular displays of grace in his own deliverance. " They sing a new song ; saying, Thou art worthy ; for thou wast slain, and hast re- deemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation, and hast made us unto our God kings and priests." " They cry with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the tlirone, and to the Lamb." 2. Let us consider the prophet as calling to the church below on earth to rejoice in the redemption of Jacob : " Shout, ye lower parts of the earth." On earth there is less fitness, and less disposition, but equal ground for rejoicing. For the church below ai'e on the way to the blessedness which the church above akeady possess, and shall in due time as certainly attain it. It is the pro- perty of faith to cause the believer to rejoice, and the joy which it can and ought to produce, is " joy unspeakable and full of glory." And, if the church on earth are less thankful to God for redeeming grace, less happy in meditating on its wonders, less cheerful in their songs, this is the mom'nful cause ; their feeling of the misery out of which grace delivered them is less acute, their knowledge of the blessedness of re- demption less perfect, their experience of divine love less lively. But sure it is in itself " a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord," and praise out of their lips is also comely. " For thou. Lord," may each of them say, " hast made me glad through thy work : I will triumph in the works of thy hands." Is it, ye to Avhom God has been gracious, no cause of joy that God interposed fbr your deliverance ? Can you call to remembrance the bitterness and the gall of a natural OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 333 state, and not praise the Lord who turned your sorrow into joy ? 0 look back to that awful precipice over the brink of which you stood with trembling step, and into which you deserve to have fallen, and praise the Lord Avho " delivered you from going down into the pit." See where others yet are, in the region of the shadow of death ; and whither others have gone, to " the blackness of darkness for ever" and ever ; and praise the God who made a diiference where dif- ference there was none. It was God who did it ; his grace overtook you on the way to ruin ; his grace plucked you as brands out of the fire ; his Son died for you ; His Spirit quickened you. And is all this to be accounted as nothing ? Shall temporal deliverances be celebrated, and have you no songs for that which is spiritual and eternal ? Shall you rejoice because yoi;r health is firm, your reputation safe, your reason preserved in exercise, your property secured from violence ? and have you no hearts to praise Jehovah because he " hath delivered your soul from death, your eyes from tears, and your feet from falling ? " " O give thanks unto the Lord, for his mercy endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy." " O that men would praise the Lord for his good- ness, and for his Avonderful works to the children of men." Ye will do it. There is not a believing soul here who desires not to rejoice, and does not praise as he can. " Unto him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father : to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." 3. Let us consider the prophet as calling to all ranks and de- scriptions of men in the Gentile world to take part in this joy : — " Break forth into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein." The redemption of the text is not limited to the ancient posterity of Jacob, the nation of Israel, according to the flesh. " It was a light thing" to God that Christ should be his " Servant, to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and restore the dis- 334 REDEMPTION THE GROUND persed of Israel : lie also gave liim to be a light to lighten the Gentiles, and his salvation to the ends of the earth." But " is God the God of the Jews only? Is he not the God of the Gentiles also?" Israel saw the faithfulness of God in the " performance of the mercy promised unto the fathei'S," and had reason to praise God that to them " i5rst he sent Jesus, to bless them in turning every one of them from their iniqui- ties." His mercy in redemption is equally the inheritance of " them that were afar off and them that were nigh." Every other mountain, as Avell as the mountain of God's ancient house, has reason to be glad, and the " little hills to rejoice on every side." The Avilderness of the Gentile Avorld, as well as the fruitful place where Israel, his choice vine, Avas anciently planted ; the forest of the heathen, as well as the cultivated field of Jewry, and every tree therein; the stately cedar, and the tender shrub ; the firm oak, as well as the feeble willow ; all that hear and believe the redemption which the Lord hath wrought. And they shall do it. The Gentile world, Isaiah knew, should one time hear the joyful sound, and, hear- ing it, be glad. " The wilderness," he prophesied, " and the solitary place shall be glad, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice ever Avith joy and singing ; the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Shai'on, for they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God." The prophecy hath been, in part, and will be yet more gloriously accomplished. When Jesus died, he " brought forth judgment to the Gentiles ;" so that " the isles have Avaited for his laAV," and " all the families of the earth shall be blessed in him;" and " to him shall the gathering of the people be." Brethren, our eyes have seen it. We ourselves arc witnesses that " the Avail of partition is broken down ;" for avc, " who Avere once afar oiF, have been brought nigh" by the blood of the cross; Ave are " no more strangers and foreigners, but felloAv citizens Avith the saints and of the household of faith." We have thir gospel " preached unto us," by the commandment of the ever- OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 335 lasting God. Though of the heathen, we are of " Christ's inheritance;" and though dwelling " in the uttermost parts of the earth," we form a part of " his possession." And we hope to see one day more abundant proof of this. We look forward to the time Avhen, hearing of this redemption, " Behold these shall come from far, and lo! these from the north and the west, and these from the land of Sinim ;" when " princes shall come out of Egypt, and Ethiopia shall stretch out her hands to God ;" the islands afar off, that have not yet heard the fame of Jesus, nor seen his glory, shall listen and rejoice, and his glory be declared unto the Gentiles ; "from the rising of the sun, to the going down of the same, his name shall be great among the Gentiles ; and, in every place, incense shall be offered unto him, and a pure offering ; for my name shall be gi-eat among the GentUes, saith the Lord of hosts." O, then, all ye lands, " Sing unto the Lord a new song ; sing unto the Lord all the earth ; sing unto the Lord, bless his name, show forth his salvation from day to day." " The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of the isles be glad thereof." " Listen, O isles, unto me, and hearken ye people from far." God shall yet more eminently " visit the Gentiles, and take out of them a people for his name." The waste mountains shall be cultivated by the good husbandman ; the vast forest of nations shall be explored, and every tree therein shall have redemption through Christ proclaimed unto it. " Break forth, then, into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein, for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." 4. Let us consider the prophet as calling io nature in all its parts, to join in celebrating this work of Jehovah's hands. I acknowledge that the irrational and inanimate parts of nature cannot praise God in that active manner in which angels and men can, for any of his works. But his creatures are, in their manner, not silent in his praise. " The heavens declare his glory," as Creator, " and the firmament showeth forth his handywork." " The young lions roar," and " the ravens cry" to Jehovah's praise. And hoAv can any part of God's 330 REDEMPTION THE GROUND handyworks be insensible to this work in which his praise is made more glorious? Wlien God causeth the sun to " come forth out of his chamber'' in the morning, to chase away the damp vapours, and the darkness from the earth, does not the face of the earth, which is then renewed, seem to smile? Wlieu the genial spring succeeds the dreary months of winter, the gentle showers descend, and summer's warmth comforts and cherishes the earth; then what joy in nature! " The time of the singing of birds has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;" " the little hills rejoice on every side ; the pastures and the valleys ; they shout for joy, they also sing." And may Ave not figure nature joying yet more, because the Sun of Righteousness hath arisen, and God hath provided the bread of life for his people, even his anointed? Yes, we know that now, m consequence of sin, " the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain," waiting to be delivered; and we know that, in virtue of his redemption, the hopes of the creature shall not be disappointed. " 'SVe look for new heavens and a new earth," which shall no more be " subject to vanity;" and then, O how shall nature rejoice! " Cease, thou sun, to be clothed in sackcloth; thou moon, wade no more in blood ; ye stars, refuse not your sparkHng light;" " for God hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." " Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad; let the sea roar, and the fuhiess thereof; the world, and them tliat dwell therein. Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills be joyful together. Let the fields be joyful, and all that is therein; then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord;" " for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." I conclude with calling you to rejoice. Brethren, ye form a part of that society for whom God hath wrought redemption. Ye all, by profession, are members of the church Avhich " God hath purchased by his own blood;" and many of you are, I trust, the members of that true church which shall eternally OF UNIVERSAL JOY. 337 celebrate the Redeemer's praise. Ye believe that the Lord hath done it. You desire to record his grace in your grateful hearts; and would wish, if you could, to praise him as you ought, and as he deserves. Try it. " Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say rejoice." Glory in the cross; triumph in the work of his grace. This gospel is preached by his command- ment, as an help to your joy. This table is covered to awaken your feelings of gratitude; and, by sensible signs, by visible memorials of his grace and love, to arouse you to warmer love, and kindle in your hearts more fervent joy. Obey the pro- phet's call. Behold how God your Saviour hath redeemed you; how he gave his body to be broken, and shed his precious blood to effect it. Come " to the altar of God, to God your exceeding joy ; yea, upon the harp praise him." " O come, let us sing unto the Lord ; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving; and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms;" " for the Lord hath done it; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." 338 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. XIL THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. John xvii. 4. — " I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do." These words of Jesus were addressed to his Father in prayer ; and ai-e recorded by the pen of inspiration for our advantage, " on whom the ends of the worki are come." They convey to us important information of the first magnitude, and in the truth of which we have the deepest interest ; which if false, leaves us without comfort and without hope ; Avhich if true, is calculated to dissipate our fears, dispel our sorrows, and diffuse through our souls the noblest and most unbounded joy. They inform us, and the information is worthy of credit, for it pro- ceeds from the lips of him who never spake in order to deceive, that " the great work of man's salvation, undertaken by the love, has been performed by the persevering labours and un- conquerable patience, of the Son of God." And than this, what piece of information can be more deeply interesting to perish- ing men, or fitted to produce more powerful effects upon their hearts ? A finished redemption is the best news which the ear of man can hear. If any thing, surely this ought to arouse every dormant faculty of our souls, and awaken every generous feeling in our hearts. A finished redemption, by its novelty is calculated to excite our curiosity ; by its strangeness, to strike us Avith astonishment ; by its vast importance, and the un- paralleled felicities which it secures, to arrest our attention, and to call forth our warmest gratitude and our liveliest joy. In a finislied redemption is included every thing that is great and THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 339 good ; that is wonderful in itself, or beneficial in its conse- quences to men. It comprehends in its ample meaning happi- ness adapted to both parts of our nature, and secured during both periods of our existence. It is the source of aU our com- fort, and the spring of all our hopes. At the time that our Lord Jesus spake these words, he was employed in performing this work ; but it was not then by any means finished. Much remained for him to perform, difficult and painful beyond any thing he had hitherto experienced. The great conflict which was to terminate in victory he had yet to sustain. The dregs of the cup of almighty indignation he had yet to drink in Gethsemane, and on Calvary " to pour out his soul unto death." And till these new labours should be performed, and these additional sufferings endured, it could not be strictly said that his work Avas finished, or the salvation of mankind accomplished. But let us not accuse the great friend of man of rash and unreasonable haste in claiming the credit of a work ere it was finished, and triumphing before the victory was gained. The Son of God knew what arduous service was yet before him ; but he also knew his own strength, and that in his hands this work could not possibly miscarry. When he said " I have finished the work thou gavest me to do," he spake in the full assurance, and immediate prospect, of the successful issue of his labours ; and the event has fully justi- fied his words ; it has evinced the truth of the glorious and delightful fact, of which he then spake by anticipation ; for he hath indeed finished the work which his Father gave him to do. I shall arrange my thoughts on this subject in the following order. I shall begin -wdth speaking of the wokk itself, which Christ performed ; proceed to the contemplation of it, as given HIM BY THE FATHER TO DO ; aftci'wards consider it as finished by him ; and close the discourse by laymg before you some instructions collected from his saying, AT this season, and in this manner, " I have finished the work Avhich thou gavest me to do." May he who finished the work of man's salvation, 340 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. by his Spirit enable us to speak the truth, and profit by the hearing of it. I. Our first business is to speak of the "vvork itself, which Christ performed. This I have already observed in general is the work of man's salvation. The particular consideration of this Avoi'k, which the Son of God performed, opens a field too vast to be minutely surveyed within the limits by which I am at present circumscribed. I shall therefore only make four general observations respecting it ; that the salvation of lost mankind which the Son of God effected, was the noblest, the most necessary, the most benevolent, and the most difiicult work which ever has been, or ever can be, performed, 1. The work which Christ finished was the greatest and noblest of all works. There is something peculiarly great in the idea of saving a lost world, and altogether worthy of the Son of God to accom- plish. The particular services to which he had necessarily to submit when engaged in the performance of it, had in them something mean and ignoble ; and a superficial obsei'ver may be supposed to imagine it altogether unbecoming the dignity of so great a personage to stoop to them. But the greatness of the purposes wliich he meant by them to eifect, suflfers us not to consider any labours he performed, any sufierings he endui'ed, as derogating from his honour. I look into the stable at Bethlehem, and see the only begotten of the Father " ^vl'apped in swaddling-clothes, and lying in the manger," I look into the carpenter's shop at Nazareth, and see him labouring with Joseph for daily bread. I see him afterv\'ards travelling on foot from town to town, keeping company with common mechanics, and depending for food and lodging on the hospitality of persons not in affluent circumstances. I see him at last assaulted by a rude mob, dragged by them, amidst riot and noise, before the magistrates, treated by the court with every mark of contempt, and hurried away, without a legal trial, to sufier as a common malefactor, and die the death THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 341 of a slave. In all this I see something uncommonly mean and ignominious. But shall I therefore say that the salvation of sinners was unworthy of the Son of God ? or that any real disgi-ace attached itself to the character of the illustrious per- son who voluntarily submitted to all this in order to accom- plish it? No. What abasement can be conceived too low, what ignominy too great, suffered in a cause so noble, and for purposes so godlike ? To illustrate the glory of the divine perfections, to assert the rights of the divine government, to vindicate the honour of the divine law, to overthrow the empire of darkness, and rescue the human race from misery — these were objects worthy of the labours of the Son of the Blessed, illustrate the character of him who aimed at them, and shed a glory around all the toils and reproaches, and insults and pains which, in gaining them, he experienced. The ardour of his soul in our cause led him to despise the shame which he saw that, in managing it, he could not avoid ; and his sufferings are scars of honour, which now add to the glory of the great Friend of man. In speaking of the work which Christ performed, I dare not debase it by comparison with the greatest and most heroic achievements of men. The human mind, in its noblest efforts, has no power to conceive the idea of an undertaking so vast, nor courage to dare attempting an achievement so noble. In magnitude, the work of salvation has no rival. You tell me of those exploits which have been recorded in the annals of fame, which have been the favourite subject of the historic page, and the poet's song, which have made the heroes who performed them the admiration of their own age, and the wonder of posterity : you style these great and noble, and it is allowed that they are so. But what then ? This work, per- formed by the single arm of Jesus, throws all of them into the shade, and " they have no glory by reason of this which excelleth." What are those exploits which procure military fame, or those nobler performances which advance a nation's happiness by the arts of peace, to that great work by which 342 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. Jesus put to Ignoble flight the combined forces of the pit, and secured to miserable mankind lasting and honourable peace, uninteiTupted and inexpressible prosperity ? I admire the hero who nobly stands up in his country's cause, who asserts its rights, overwhelms Avdth confusion the hostile forces that oppress it, and recovers its lost liberties and its ancient happi- ness ; but how much more worthy of admiration the great person of whom we now speak ? " His work is," as the psalmist says, indeed " honourable and glorious." It was in behalf, not of a particular nation, but of the human race. It had for its object, not their temporal, but their spiritual, their eternal welfare. In this work he spoiled those that spoiled us, and avenged us of them that hated us. He recovered our lost honours, rescued us from the most miserable thraldom, and secured for us a felicity inexpressibly greater than that from which Ave had fallen. It is not speaking extravagantly to say, that the work of man's redemption is greater than that of his creation. As it required greater exertions to effect it, so it is more magnificent in its contrivance, and more splendid in its execution. In creation, the fabric of the human nature was reared beautiful and glorious : in redemption it was restored from that shape- less and confused mass of ruins into which it had fallen, and recovered to beauty and glory superior to what it originally possessed. By this work good was brought out of evil, and order out of confusion. The glory of God was promoted by the restoration of his workmanship ; the guilty pardoned, the lost saved, the miserable made happy, by the punishment, the misery, the death of the innocent. How great, how magnifi- cent the undertaking of the Son of God ! How full of wonders the work which his Father gave him to do ! 2. The work which Christ finished was the 7nost xirgent and necessary of all works. The necessity of Avhich I speak is a necessity, not on the part of Christ, but on the part of men. On the part of Jesus it was choice. No necessity could have compelled the Son of THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 343 God to Stoop from his throne to work the salvation of self- ruined men. Their own hands had prepared the snares in which their feet were caught ; and it were highly unreasonable to suppose that our misery could have laid him under any necessity to descend from the skies, and become miserable for our relief. The necessity of the case lay entirely on our part, and viewing it thus, it was singularly urgent, and admitted of no delay. We had sinned, and by our sin had ruined ourselves. Our whole race were expelled from the divine favour ; sti'ipped of those honours with which the bounty of our Creator had cro-\\Tied us ; and, with our innocence, we had lost our happi- ness. Banished from the presence of God, we wandered, like so many Cains, vagabonds on an earth accursed for our sakes, in quest of happiness which we could nowhere find; our breasts tormented by conscious guilt, and the strife of malig- nant, ungovernable passions ; our path darkened by the frowns of an angry God ; and every step leading us nearer and nearer to that " blackness of darkness" which is for ever and ever. Our feet were in the way to hell, " going down to the chambers of death ; " and no wisdom with which we were endowed could enable us to recover the path of happiness fi*om which we had strayed, nor any power we possessed prevent, or even retard, our descent into the pit of destruction. Thus situated, miserable now, and more miserable in pros- spect, on the brink of perdition, on the dreadful edge of a precipice towards which we had proceeded too far to be able to retire, and over which, if we had once tumbled, we must have been infallibly dashed in pieces; thus situated, what can be conceived more perilous than the case of fallen man ? or what necessity more pressing for immediate and effectual relief? The work of our deliverance from this most awful condition was what the Son of God appeared to perform. He came in the moment of our extreme necessity, when our case seemed hopeless and desperate, to snatch us from impending ruin. 844 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. Yes ! Blessed be the worker ; for ever admired the work ! he came to save a perishing world. The plague was already begun, and divine indignation akeady laying waste ; and, like another Aaron, he stepped in " between the living and the dead." The destroying angel had already received his com- mission, drawn his flaming sword, and begun to slay, sparing neither age, nor sex, nor condition ; and he shed his own pre- cious blood, " as of a lamb without blemish and without spot," to cover the door-posts of our hearts, and ensure our souls against destruction. The fierce lion of hell had already laid hold of us by his dreadful fangs, and was making haste to can-y us off to his dark den, in order there to tear and eter- nally devour ; and, like another David, he exerted his proAvess and strength " to take the prey from the mighty, and deliver the captives of the terrible." Can we hesitate, then, one moment respecting the urgency of our case, or the necessity of that work which the Father gave Jesus to do ? Another method of deliverance to man than by the substitution and sufferings of the Son of God, could not, by man or angels, have been devised. Had any other expedient been practicable, we cannot conceive that the Father would have put this work into his hand, or that he him- self would ever have engaged in it. Would the Glory of heaven have been sent to earth on an unnecessary errand, or been employed in what some less noble person could have effected ? Would the Son of God have expended so much labour, and spilt so much blood, without the most urgent reason ? No, surely. It is enough to satisfy any mind that entertains due respect for the majesty of heaven, that salvation by the labours and sufferings of the Son of God was absolutely necessary, when we see him thus employed. One article of his work could not have been unperformed, not one laborious service or painful suffering could have been awanting, without preju- dice to our salvation. Not only was his work necessary, but every part of it was so. It was necessary to our salvation that obedience should be rendered in our room to every de- THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 345 mand of the law, and complete satisfaction given to every claim of the justice of God. For it cannot be imagined that the Most High should sacrifice to the happiness of his rebel creatures one tittle of the honour of his law, or one iota of the glory of his nature. Had not obedience unto death been ren- dered by Jesus Christ, the universe of creatures could not have averted misery from the sinner's devoted head. The guilty must have perished, and the divine glory been main- tained, though at the expense of the happiness of a world. 3. The work which Jesus finished was the kindest and most benevolent of all works. A perishing Avorld exhibits an awful spectacle of wretched- ness and misery. Look into the habitations of woe. See how they languish there under disease, shiver with cold, and pine away for want. These, and all that frightful group of calamities, with which mankind are afflicted, are as nothing to the miseries which await them in the eternal state ; for to perish, is to lose heaven and all its joys, and to suffer hell and all its woes. Our situation by nature, was a situation of the deepest distress, of the most accumulated and deplorable affliction. No description can exaggerate its horrors. To be affected with it in the most sensible manner, it is only necessary to see it. It was the more affecting, that it was utterly helpless. For to what quarter could we look for deliverance ? We knew, we could know of none. Among the ruined race of Adam, not one was able to help another. What was the case of one, was the case of all. " None of us could redeem his brother, or pay unto God a ransom for him." The iron hearts of apostate spirits rejoiced in our misery ; and instead of lending assistance, helped forward the affliction. Holy angels might weep over our misery, but they had no power to aid us. To the throne of God we could not, we durst not look with confidence ; for him we had offended. It was his justice that was pursuing us ; his wrath that was pressing us down. Conscience, while it accused us of guilt, assured us that he was our enemy, and that he would " by no means clear the guilty ;" and that, therefore, 346 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. from that quarter we had everything to fear, but nothing to hope. Is this u true picture of human misery? It is, of itself, sufficient to convince us, that the work of Jesus, in delivering us from it, was inexpressibly kind and benevolent. We, infatuated creatures, sat contented on the brink of perdition ; neither saw the extent of our misery, nor were much concerned about our deliverance. But Jesus saw it ; and it drew pity from the heart of God, though it could draw none from our own. His bowels of compassion were moved within him ; and he made haste, borne on the swift wings of love, from his native skies, to succour us in our extremity, and pluck us as brands out of the fire. Yes. The work of our salvation is truly a labour of love. If there is such a thing as charity in the universe, it was then exercised when the Son of God descended from his throne, to interpose for our help, and finish the work of our salvation. His work on earth shall remain an eternal monument of the ardour of his love ; for love, in no other case, ever operated so powerfully, or proved itself by such marvellous deeds. What, indeed, but love can account for Avhat he did ? On whatsoever side we survey his work, we are constrained to acknowledge that it Avas inexpressibly kind. Wliich of the sons of men appeared before his throne, in behalf of an afllicted Avorld, representing the extent of human misery, and soliciting Ins powerful interposition? None. Whatever he did was dictated by the compassion of his own heart. He was self- ]noved. Love, unbeginning, all-powerful love, which Avarmed his heart ere worlds were made, and shall not have become cold when worlds are no more, was the fountain fi-om which these streams, which bless the nations, fioAved. " His deliglits," from the beginning, " Avere Avith the sons of men." Was it loveli- ness which caught his eye in miserable man, and capti\'ated his heart ? Ah ! no, Ave Averc as vile as Ave Avere miserable, as Avorthlcss as Ave Avere Avretchcd. The Son of God came to accomplish the salvation, not of an amiable race, of a people THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 347 that would not offend, but of a " seed of evil doers," of " a people laden with iniquity," and delighting in it ; whose character was detestable, and whose just desert was misery. It was in behalf of his enemies that he laboured and suffered ; and if " gi'eater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends," sure the love of Jesus " is commended, in that he died for his enemies," and sought the salvation of them that hated him. "Was he attracted by the prospect of advantage ? He was as happy as he could be ; our salvation could add nothing either to his essential glory or felicity. What then remains, but for us to consider the work which Jesus performed, as kind and benevolent beyond all expression ; as proceeding from love, unsolicited, disinterested, generous, and ai'dent, beyond anything we can conceive, and procuring for us the greatest good, by labours the most astonishing, and in opposition to our deserts ? Never, O never let us forget the kindness of Jesus. " If I forget thee," 0 Jesus, " let skill part from my right hand ; let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth," Shall I record, in my grateful memory, the action of the man who, without solicitation, and without pro- spect of reward, befriends me in adversity; who puts himself to trouble and expense, in order to relieve my anxious mind, or extricate me from incumbent distress ? And shall I not celebrate the unparalleled kindness, the unexampled generosity of the Son of God, who beheld and pitied ; who pitied, and came to deliver my soul from death, my eyes from overflowing tears, and my feet fi'om falling into the pit of irretrievable destruction ? 4. The work which Christ finished was the most arduous and difficult of all works. Had the work which was given our blessed Lord to do been only to create a world, he would have spoken, and it should have been instantly done ; he had commanded, and it would have stood fast. Had it only been to destroy a world, he would have recalled his influence, merely withheld that " word of power" by which " he upholds all things ;" and ancient 348 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. chaos would have returned. But his woi'k -was to save a world ruined by sin, from deserved and impending destruc- tion ; and this required gi-eater efforts ; for this the powerful voice of him who bids worlds be, and bids them cease, had no sufficient energy. It required him not only to speak, but to labour, to suffer, to die. After having made this remark, it must be unnecessary to add, that it was difficult and arduous beyond any thing that men can perform. What could men do to save a world, who cannot save themselves? Their utmost efforts how feeble, their greatest performances how infinitely short of what this required ? If the shoulders of a nation are unable to sustain a mountain, or remove it out of its place, how would the com- bined strength of an assembled Avorld have been able to sustain the immense weight of the Almighty's curse, or remove it from the devoted head even of one sinner? Even angels had no strength for such a work. They " excel in strength." They have been agents, under God, in great performances. But here their courage and their strength alike must have utterly failed. They would have stood aghast, and shrunk back with horror, had a cup been presented to them not even half so bitter or so full as that, the dregs of which Jesus drank ; " the cup of the fierce wrath of Almighty God," filled up with the punishment due to the sins of an elect world. The salvation of sinners was a work fit only for the Son of God to undertake ; a work which Immanuel alone had courage to essay ; and for finishing which he alone was equal whose name is " Mighty to save." Say not then, that there was nothing difficult or peculiarly arduous in the work of man's salvation. Behold the Saviour performing it. See him, in order to effect it, leading a life of sorrow, labour and reproach, and dying a death of shame and of pain. Listen to his infant cries. Hear his dying groans. Observe those tears which he shed, that sweat which oozed in great drops from every pore, that blood which flowed in copious streams from every vein. It is not a weak timoroua THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 849 man, whom you see thus labouring, thus afflicted. It is he who for heroic courage, is designed the " Lion of the Tribe of Judah," and who for invincible strength is denominated " the Rock of Ages." It is God incaniate; it is the Son of the Blessed in the nature of man. And if he thus laboured, must not the Avork of salvation have been attended with difficulties, so formidable as to have discouraged any other heart, and so vast as to have been insuperable by any other arm ? But what were the difficulties which made this work so arduous ? They were not imaginary. Figure the situation iu which Jesus stood. He stood in the room of his people, as their substitute in law ; sustaining their persons, bearing their accumulated iniquities imputed to him ; ready to perform whatsoever was demanded of them, and presenting himself to suffer in their stead all that their crimes deserved. A situa- tion more awful cannot be imagined ; work more stupendous than what this obliged him to perform cannot be figured by the human mind. A broken law he had to fulfil ; an offended justice he had to atone. And were there no difficulties here to surmount ? When saints in heaven obey, they obey not the law as a covenant; when Adam obeyed it in its covenant form, it was unbroken. The one obey it while beyond the reach of temptation to transgress ; the other, though not be- yond the reach of temptation, obeyed under the smile of Divine favour. But in order to accomplish our salvation, the substi- tute of sinners had to obey the law constantly and in aU points ; had to obey it as a broken covenant, in the midst of continual and most powerful temptations to transgress, under the heavy frown of the offended Lawgiver, and subjected for our sakes to its awful curse. But obedience to its commands was only part of his labour. He had also to endure its penalty. And Avho was sufficient for this ? The penalty of the law is death ; death armed in all its terrors, death by the sword of justice, inflicted by the arm of an angry God. It is the penalty of the law, inflicted on the sinner for his own transgi'essions, which sends him to hell and keeps him there ; Avhich mingles that 350 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. cup of ■wi'ath with every bitter ingredient, of which there he drinks, and drinking, is miserable for ever. And if the sins of one merit and receive such punishment, what must the Lord Jesus have had to endure, when bearing the divine indignation for the sins of an elect world ? when the wrath due for all the millions whom he came to save was wrung into his cup, and, in order to finish their salvation, he had to di'ink off its dregs? Vorilj, arduous beyond all that my weak mind can conceive must have been thy work, and great beyond imagination the agonies thou hadst to endure ! Thou hadst to take fire into thy bosom, into thine heart ; the fire of hell, kindled by the guilt of an innumerable company of sinning men ! To thy Father's hottest indignation, thou hadst to present thy innocent, yet devoted head ; and for our sakes to suffer all his ire ! II. We now hasten to the contemplation of this work as GIVEN HIM BY HIS FATHER to do it. And here I shall take notice of two things ; his Father put this work into his hand before all worlds ; and in the fulness of time sent him into the world to perform it. 1. The Father put this worlc into Christ's hand before all loorlds. The work which Christ performed for our salvation, though executed in time, was designed from eternity. The redemp- tion of man proceeded not from a hasty resolution, formed without forethought, and taken on the spur of the occasion. It was the effect of divine deliberation ; was digested in the eternal mind, and is the result of the mysterious coimsel of the Trinity. The eternal Father looked down from his throne, and, when he beheld, pitied our fallen race. Wliile justice bade smite, mercy cried, spare the guilty. Grace anticipated our necessity, and ere we had become miserable, determined to provide for our deliverance. But by what means could mercy reach our guilty race ? by what method, without loss of honour to God, could it interpose to extricate us from misery ? Mercy could not so have " re- joiced against judgment," as to have been exercised in opposi- THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 351 tion to justice ; for there can be no contradiction in the all- perfect nature of God ; nor could one perfection have been exalted at the expense of anothei". If the guilty be punished, as justice demands, where is mercy? If spared, as mercy entreats, where is justice ? How shall " mercy" to man, and " truth" to the threatening of the law, " meet together ?" By what means shall the " righteousness" of the divine govern- ment, and the "peace" of the rebel creature, be made in amity "to embrace and kiss each other ?" This was a knot worthy the wisdom of God to unloose ; a knot which angels met in council, would have required an eternity to untie, and after having consumed it in contrivance, have left unresolved. To the divine mind the case was simple. Before his eye all the difficulty disappeared. Infinite wisdom suggested the plan of human recovery, and devised the wonderful means by which it could be eflfected. The means were as strange, as the work Avas great. The Father looked down to his footstool, "but thei'e was no man ;" looked around his throne, but there was no angel endowed with sympathy, with courage, vdth power, sufiicient to undertake the recovery of miserable man, or to perform what the glory of the divine perfections required, in order to accomplish it. But on the throne he beheld one possessing every requisite qualification ; an only one, mighty to save ; " his only begotten;" " his well-beloved Son ;" his "equal;" "the fellow of the Lord of Hosts." On him he fixed his eye. Him, astonishing grace ! he resolved to em- ploy to rescue the rebels from misery, and save the guilty from wrath. Into his hands he put the work of our salvation, not hesitating to intrust all that concerned his glory, and his creatures' happiness, with one so able and so faithful. " I have laid help," he said, " on one that is mighty ; I have exalted one chosen out of the people." Go, he said, per- form the work for which I have found thee only fit. The honour of my perfections lies prostrate ; advance it, glorify them ; my law is trampled under foot, raise it, magnify it, and make it honourable ; manlcind perish, deliver them ; apos- 352 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. tate spirits rejoice, triumph, — humble, destroy them. It was no sooner proposed by the Father, than it was agreed to by the Son. His generous heart warmly embraced our cause; without hesitation he accepted the labour of love which was presented him to perform. " He engaged his heart to approach unto God" in our behalf. " He said, " Lo, I come, I delight to do thy will, O, my God : yea, thy law is within my heart." 2. In the fulness of the time, the Father sent him into the icorld to perform this work. Wliat could either prevent or retard the execution of the work which the Father had determined on, and had engaged his Son to perform ? Could the divine mind experience change? That love Avhich originally purposed, urged on the perfoi'mance of man's redemption ; and " in this was manifested" the great- ness and immutability of " the love of God" towards us, " because that," as he purposed, he " sent his only-begotten Son into the world, that Ave might live through him." Could the Son of God retract his kind jjurpose, or decline performing the work which was given him to do ? The zeal which he felt for the divine glory, and the inexpressible ardour of his love to the happiness of men, no time could diminish, nor any alte- ration of circumstances affect. His loins were ready girt for the work, he longed for the destined period for accomplishing it, and when it arrived, was not one moment behind the ap- pointed hour. In the appointed season, the happy hour arrived ; and the Son of God descended from his throne to labour in our service, and die in our cause. He came at the proper hour, after we were miserable, before we were irrecoverably so. For him to have hasted to save, before we had sinned and become miser- able, would have been unseasonably early ; and to have delayed it till we had been all shut up in the place of punishment, would have been unseasonably late. Before he came, we had had ample experience of our misery, and of the impotency of all our attempts to relieve ourselves. Till he came, our souls were supported by a series of revelations, which raised expec- THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 353 tations in the breasts of men, and hope was kept alive by a chain of providences which prepared the way for its approach. At this season, mai'ked out in the wise counsels of the Father, and arriving in the lapse of ages, the Father " sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." " When the fulness of time Avas come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law ;" and "in due time Christ died for the ungodly." "When he came, this messenger of peace brought with him the most ample documents of his mission by the Father. To the inquiring mind, who asked by what authority he assumed the pei'formance of such work, he had to present a commission, sealed by the court of heaven. Ancient predictions fulfilled in him, ancient types illustrated in his person and conduct, signs in heaven, and wonders in earth, combined to establish his character, and prove that the work in which he was engaged, Avas given him by his Father to perform. What were those gifts and graces with which in human nature he was endowed, but the anointing of the Father, by which he proclaimed him his Messiah ? And what all that he spake, and all that he did, but so many irrefragable proofs that he came not of himself, but that he sent him ? Yes. The Friend of men assumed not a character to which he had not a title ; obtruded not himself on a service to which he was not called. I see the astonishing love of the Father in sending so great and so beloved a person, to perform the kind work of our salvation. I see the astonishing love of the Son in coming cheerfully to execute a work so benevolent, so necessary, so arduous. I see a firm foundation laid for my faith, in the acceptance of his finished work, in that he ran not unsent, nor laboured withoutaproper call. m. Let me now proceed to discourse of Christ finishing this work, which his Father gave him to do. Here I shall lay before you three things. He entered on his work as soon as he was born ; he was employed in performing it during the whole period of his humiliation ; he finished it when he died. 354 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 1. He entered on his work as soon as he was born. Not sooner, not later. Not sooner ; for the necessary prepai'ations for his work were not finished, the destined period had not arrived, the requisite apparatus was not given him. Can the labourer perform his work without the instruments of his labour ? And though full of zeal to execute it, how could the Lord Jesus commence the gracious operations necessary for our salvation, till that human nature was formed, was prepared for him, was given him in which he was to labour, and by the obedience and sufferings of which he was to finish it ? The human nature was the Saviour's working attii'e which he put on when about to put his hand to his Father's business. The human nature was the gi-eat instrument, by means of which, in union Avith his person, he was to effect it ; for his divine nature was impassible, could neither suffer nor die : till he assumed it, he could neither be under the law, nor subject to the curse. Not later ; for can we suppose so willing a servant stand idle after the appointed hour : and clothed in his work- ing dress, and holding in his hands the instruments of his labour, loiter one moment, or saunter away one instant of the precious time in which he ought to be employed in his Master's work.? Or can we imagine so ardent a heart, so heroic a spirit, could remain one hour in the field of battle, or look the enemy in the face without commencing the combat ? No. We err if we limit the season of Jesus' labours in our cause to the last period of his life on earth. The babe in Bethlehem laboured as well as the man of sorrows. His infant cries were the beginnings of his work ; and announced to all that had ears to hear, that he had put his hand to it, and already found it toilsome and painful. The birth day of the Saviour was his morning hour of labour ; and from his commencing it so early afforded a happy prognostication that he would presevere till the going down of the sun, and not desist till he had finished the work which his Father had given him to do. No wonder, then, if angels who understood the case, hailed him with hos- sanahs in the sky. A greater wonder it is that we seem so THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. oOD little sensible of liis infant labours in our cause, and are so little impressed with admiration of his zeal. His birth is indeed a period of joy springing up to men. Did " the morn- ing stars sing together and all the sons of God shout for joy," when Jehovah put his hand to creation work ? And shall not greater joy swell our hearts, and nobler songs fill our mouths, when we see the hand of the Son of God put to the greater work of the recovery of a world ruined by sin, and perishing under the curse ? 2. He was employed inperforming it during the whole period of his humiliation. The space of six days only elapsed from the laying of the foundation of creation tiU the goodly fabric was reared, and Jehovah had ceased from his work. The work of salvation filled up a greater portion of time, and occupied the Son of God for more than three and thirty years. Nor must we suppose that this comparative slowness of execution arose fi'om either want of diligence or want of skill on the part of Jesus who had taken it in hand. It arose from the nature of the work itself, which could not be finished without a series of labours and toils, a succession of sufferings and pains of different kinds, and inflicted by different hands. The Son of God began soon, as we have seen, to the work which was committed to his care, and he laboured with unwearied perseverance and undiminished activity till he finished it. The days of childhood Avere not spent by him in indolence, nor the years of youth in idleness. See the massacre of Bethlehem, the consequences of the bloody orders of the tyrant Herod, and designed to effect his destruction ; see him canned in the fond arms of his trembling mother, and driven by persecution into Egypt as a safe asylum ; and say, if he was not an early sufferer in the cause of men ? See him in the temple surrounded by admiring doctors, and at twelve years of age disputing with them, and confounding them ; and say if he was not an early labourer for the good of men ? It is true we hear little of Jesus from the period of his child- hood till " he began to be about thirty years of age." But 356 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. shall we say he was idle, doing no part of the Avork given him to finish ? No. The thought were injurious in the highest degree to the love, the diligence, the faithfulness, the zeal of the Son of God, to suppose that he should have idled away so great part of his day of labour. " Wist ye not," he said to his parents, at the only season in which, during that period, he is brought forward to view, " wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?" Yes, he was busy. He wi'ought indeed under the shade; in the obscurity of a private station; he rendered obedience to that law which, for our sakes he came to fulfil ; in the humble lot of a carpenter, labouring with his hands, he suffered the toils and afflictions of this miserable life. The very obscurity of his situation was no small share of suffering to a person so great and entitled to so much glory. At length the veil which hid the Lord Jesus from public view was withdrawn, and we see him labouring and suffering with unexampled perseverance and patience. It was indeed a glorious sight to see him " rejoicing like a strong man to run a race." When did the love of ease seduce his heart, or when the fatigue of labour prevail on him to slacken his diligence ? Never. " I must work," he said, " the works of him that sent me while it is day ; the night cometh when no man can work." His time of labour was short, and he redeemed the time. To his toils the synagogue and the wilderness alike were witness. The stars of night could bear testimony to his diligence, as well as the lamp of day. Even nature called often for the necessary refreshments of food and sleep, and was not heard. " It is," he said, " my meat and my drink to do the will of him that sent me." Did temptations allure him, or difficulties deter him from his work ? No, not for an hour. Every difficulty, and they were many, which met him, he en- countered with the most urjdaunted courage ; every trial he experienced, and these were great, he sustained ■with unshaken fortitude. Under reproach his face was a stranger to shame ; under sufferings his heart was unacquainted with fear. With better reason than Paul could he say, " None of these things THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 357 move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, that I may finish my course with" honour and with " joy." As what what would have deterred others, moved him not ; so what would have seduced others from faithful diligence, made on him no impression. Riches, they had no charms to captivate ; power, it had no attractions to allure; honour, it had no beauty to steal away his heart. The artful insinuations of enemies, and the earnest solicitations of friends, were alike unable to shake his firm purpose. In a word, his heart was in his work. He was full of zeal for the divine glory and the salvation of his people, and it gave him no rest till he had finished his work, and gained his noble purposes. " How am I straitened," he said, "until it be accomplished!" "Whether he taught or wrought, performed miracles, preached the gospel, exemplified holiness, or suffered pain or shame ; in all this was his object, to perform " the work which his Father had given him to do ;" all was so much of that service to Avhich he bound himself for us and our salvation. 3. He finished his work when he died. Death itself was a part, a necessary and painful part, of his work ; and however long and diligently he had laboured in it, he could not have brought it to a happy and prosperous issue, had he not died. This too, therefore, he performed. And this, though the last, was not the least laborious part of his work. The least labo- rious ! It was the most laborious ; for death to him was not the simple extinction of life ; it was death preceded by agony, surrounded with terrors, accompanied with shame ; it was death inflicted by the sword of justice, embittered by the gall of divine indignation, impregnated, saturated with the poison of the curse. This death he died ; and dying he proclaimed aloud, "It is finished ; and bowed his head, and gave up the ghost." "It is finished," he said, and died. What was finished ? Life ? Yes, this is finished when one dies. The toils which he experienced ; the shame to which he was put ; the excru- ciating pains which he endured ? Yes ; these were finished, 358 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. when the Saviour died ; for, in the silence of death, in the quiet of the gi'ave, one finds deliverance from these. " There the "svicked cease from troubling ; and there the weary are at rest." But what comfort should we have had, had such things as these been all that Jesus finished when he died ? Life may be finished, ere the work which ought to have been performed, be done ; sufferings be terminated by death, and no Avorthy end accomplished by them. What it imports us to know is, that he finished his work when he finished his life ; put the last hand to all that was necessary for the divine glory and our salvation, when he surrendered up his life into the hands of his Father. And what part of his work, which his Father gave him to do, did he not finish when he died ? Survey it on every side, and say if one thing was left by him undone, which faithful- ness to his engagements required him to perform. Did he leave any prediction of the pi'ophets concerning him unaccom- plished ? or any tjqje Avithout its signification ? " Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that were written of him, said. It is finished." He came to fulfil the law ; and he said of this part of his work, " It is finished;" for by dying, " he magnified it and made it honourable." He came to satisfy justice ; and he said, "It is finished," for by dying, he gave justice what it demanded, he satisfied it by his blood. He came to purchase heaven and happiness for his people ; and he said, " It is finished," for by dying, he paid the price of our redemption. He came to conquer hell ; and he said, " It is finished," for by dying, he overcame the assembled hosts of darkness ; bruised the head of the old sei^pent ; overturned his empire ; and " spoiled principalities and powders, making a show of them openly, and triumphing over them upon his cross." When he died, he paid the last farthing of the debt Avhich we owed ; drunk the last drop of the cup which we deserved ; bare the last stroke with which we should have been scourged. lie finished the old dispen- sation, and began the new ; he brought down the kingdom of THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 359 hell, and laid the firm foundations of that of heaven. He " finished transgression, and made an end of sin, and made reconciliation for iniquity, and brought in an everlasting righteousness," and " confirmed the covenant." Such was the work Jesus finished, when, on Calvary, he died. He left no part of it to be done by those who should come after him ; for he would not do the work of his Father by halves, or divide the glory of salvation with another. Had he suspended his labours ere the work had been completed, who could have stepped in to put the finishing hand to it ? If he had not completed his work, he had as well not have put hand to it at all. An unfinished salvation would have been the same as a salvation not begun. To God it could have brought no glory ; to man, no happiness. An unfinished salvation would have brought eternal reproach on the person who began to build, and was unable to finish ; and would have mocked the misery, and disappointed the expectations of men. Could I have added to Clirist's unfinished work what was necessary to secure my own salvation ? Ah ! no ; I could not have scaled heaven by violence, nor have introduced myself by craft ; and honest labours I could not have performed, to entitle me to it, nor by equitable payment of the remainder of my debt, pro- cured my admission. He has finished it : this is my hope ; he has finished it: this shall be my joy. " Sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it ; and shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, ye mountains ; O forest and every tree therein ; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel." rV". I should have now laid before you some instructions, collected from Jesus saying, at this time, and in this manner, " I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do." The instructions I intended were three. The first respects the assured faith Jesus had in the prosperous issue of his work ; for "he had set his face as a flint, and he knew that he should not be ashamed ;" he knew that " he should not fail, nor be 360 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. discouraged, till he had brought forth judgment unto \'ictory :" and, therefore, he could speak of it, even in the presence of his Father, as akeady done. The second respects his eandting and glorying in his work. It was not what he had reason to be ashamed of before God. It was a good, a kind, an honour- able work. The more painful, the more honourable to go through ^dth it ; its ignominies were wiped away by the nobleness of the cause in which they were endured. For God's sake, he had borne reproach ; for a world's happiness, he had suffered shame and pain. And he holds up his head, as well he might, and glories in it in the presence of God. The third respects the use he makes of his work. He employs it, you see, as an argument in prayer for his people's happi- ness. For Jesus, though he has finished his work, has not finished the use he makes of it. He turns it into prayer ; he intercedes on the foundation of it ; he employs it as an argu- ment for our happiness ; and an all-powerful argument, an ever-prevailing plea ; for because it is finished, " him the Father heareth always." But I forbear illustrating these ; and conclude at present with one remark. And it is this : The finished work of Jesus is remembered in heaven, and should be remembered on earth. The finished work of Jesus is remembered in heaven. In that blessed place there is not an individual who thinks on it without pleasure, who remembers it without admiration. Shall I say how angels remember it ? They witnessed him when employed in it ; they looked down, and wondered. They examine with curious eye the work, now that it is finished ; and it still strikes them with new wonder. When he entered on it, they sung loud anthems to his praise, " who came in the name of the Lord to save." When he finished his work, they, in reverence, adored the wortliy Lamb. And now, what is their business, their employment, but to give honour to the Lamb, and celebrate the wonders he hath wrought? Shall I say how men, redeemed by his blood, remember his work? How can they forget that finished THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. 861 work which brought them there, and keeps them there? How can they forget that finished work of which they all in blessed experience enjoy, the great, the delightful fruits? " They sing a new song," and the burden of the song, is the honour of the Redeemer, and the praises of his work. " Thou art worthy," they sing, and every heart is in unison ; they sing, and not a discordant note is heard in all the heavenly choir ; they sing, " Thou art worthy, for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood." But why mention how angels, or how saints, remember the work of Christ ? It is of infinitely greater consequence for you and me to know, that it is remembered by him that sits on the throne ; that he remembers it with pleasure, and contemplates it with ineffable delight. "When it was newly finished, he so remem- bered it, that he raised the Saviour from the grave to the throne ; and still he so remembers it, that he crowns him with glory, and " grants him all that his heart desires." This, brethren, is good news from a far country. This assures us that God is reconciled, that he is gracious. Since he looks on the face of his Anointed, he will look with favour on those who confide in his finished work. Since he, delighted with it, took Jesus to heaven, his delight in it will also bring those to heaven, who trust in his finished work, and rejoice in his salvation. And shall not this finished work be remembered on earth? Shall not the guilty remember the work which expiated their guilt? the criminal, the work which delivered him from punishment? Can I forget the labours, the sufferings, the death of that blessed person who lived, who died for me ? of him who valued my happiness more than his own, and sacri- ficed every thing that was dear to him for my deliverance ? No ! Depart from my memory every kind action which man has done for me ; be blotted out from my recollection every office of friendship which my most generous benefactors have performed. It were ten thousandfold more ungrateful to forget him to whom I owe my all; to forget that work on Q 362 THE FINISHED WORK OF CHRIST. which every hope of mine is founded, from which all my joys proceed. Such ingratitude, so base, so vile, be far from me. While I have a memory to recollect, a finished salvation shall be remembered ; while I have a tongue to praise, a finished salvation shall be celebrated. And this day I shall, with pleasure, with warmest gratitude, with holiest joy, remember it, for he hath commanded, " This do in remembrance of me." Amen. THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 363 XIII. THE MYSTERIES OF PROVLDENCE. John xiii. 7 — " What I do thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt know hereafter." PART I. Our Lord Jesus having " loved his own which were in the world, loved them unto the end." The sincerity of his aflfection he had already manifested in the most surprising manner ; and now that he was to leave the world and go unto the Father, he wished to give them some new and endearing testimony of the strength and undiminished ardour of his love. But what new proof of his love could the Lord Jesus give ? He had already gone the whole round of kind attentions, and to appear- ance, done every thing that benevolence the most disinterested, or love the most ardent, could dictate. Abeady he had left his native skies, to be present with them on the footstool ; and clothed himself in flesh and blood, that he might be able, by experience of infii-mity, to feel for them and sympathise with them. Already he had " endured the contradiction of sinners against himself," that they, considering him, might not in simi- lar circumstances, become wearied or faint in their minds; and sustained the furious assaults of the devil, that being tempted, he might be " able to succour them that are tempted." Already he had wandered about with them for some years, submitting cheerfully to aU fatigue for their sakes, and had partaken in common with them of the homeliest lodging and the coarsest fare. Already he had spent many a long day in teaching them, and many a cold night in praying for them; had supplied 304 THE MYSTERIES OF rROVIDEXCE. their necessities, had borne with their weaknesses, had vindi- cated their characters when traduced, and comforted their spirits when dejected. And Avhat more could Jesus do in ])roof of the sincerity and warmth of his attachment? He intended to go and die for them ; and in testimony that there was nothing too great for his affection to undertake, or too difficult for his love to perform, he prefaces his information of his design of dying for them with an action expressive of the loM'liness of his heart and the strength of his love : " He riseth from supper, and laid aside his" upper " garments ; and took a towel, and girded himself. After that, he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel where^Aath he was girded." A piece of conduct as singular as it was unexpected. Who are these whose feet the blessed Jesus condescends to wash? Are they an assembly of monarchs, whose smiles create envy, and whom nobles are proud to serve ? They were fishermen of Galilee. And who is this that officiates as their servant with his towel and bason of water washing these men's feet ? In time past they were obliged to perform these offices for them- selves ; now they are served ; how great the change ! and he who serves them, — incredible ! is " the Prince of the kings of the earth." Great men sometimes condescend to pay a kind attention to their dependents ; but Avhat great man would not think himself affronted, degraded, were he known to perform menial offices to any of his meanest vassals ? The Son of the Highest had other ideas of dignity. Though of a rank infi- nitely higher and more noble than any of the sons of Adam, he was endowed with a humbler and more condescending spirit, and considered no service too mean which was proper for expressing the kindness of his heart to his people. The disciples submitted to this office of condescension with silent astonishment, unable to express their feelings at this singular piece of conduct. He proceeded, in the order in Avhich they sat, washing their feet, and nil is silence and amazement till he came to Simon Peter. This disciple more forward than THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 365 tlie rest, and entertaining as liigli a sense of his Master's dignity, and as active a zeal for his honour as any of them, could contain himself no longer, but burst out, " Lord, dost thou wash my feet ? " I cannot, as if he had said, suffer thee to perform so mean an office for me. It is unbecoming thee ; it is what I have no title to expect from thee : I cannot see the propriety of it, any useful purpose it can serve : the rea- sons of thy conduct I cannot so much as conjecture, " Lord, dost thou wash my feet ? " Our Lord's reply contains a tacit intimation that it was his will that his feet should be washed by him, and that it was Peter's duty to suffer it ; at the same time that he withholds from him the reason of his conduct till a more convenient season ; " Jesus answered and said unto him, what I do thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt know hereafter." It is not for you to oppose my proceedings ; for at present you are no competent judge of what it is fit for me to do. It is your duty to submit, to believe that I have good i*easons for my conduct, and to rest satisfied that what is dark and mysterious in it now, will be satisfactorily explained in due time. These words were not spoken for Peter's sake alone ; they are recorded for our instruction also " on whom the ends of the world are come." There are many dark and mysterious steps in the conduct of providence towards the church in general and towards individual saints, the reasons of which they search for in vain, and which, on account of their incapacity to see the wisdom and goodness of God in them, are apt to stagger their faith, and occasion much inward disquiet. To us in such circumstances, as well as unto Peter, he saith " What I do thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt know hereafter." Considering the words in this general light, I propose to . inquire, fii'st, to what it is owing that the people of God are so often at a loss to know what the Lord intends by his provi- dence ; secondly, why the Lord keeps his people so often in the dark with respect to the reasons of his conduct ; thirdly, what that time is which is in the text styled " hereafter," when 366 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. the Lord will make them understand the meaning of his dark dispensations ; and fourthly, what assurance have the people of God that " what they know not" of the Lord's doings '* now ; they shall know hei'eafter." I. To WHAT IS IT OWING THAT THE PEOPLE OF GOD ARE SO OFTEN AT A LOSS CONCERNING THE MEANING OF THE LoRD's DISPENSATIONS ? A variety of causes may be assigned ; some of them proceeding from us, and others from the dispensations of God themselves. 1. Li some cases it is owing to inattention. The Lord has put into our hands two large volumes, at once entertaining and instructive ; the one is the volume of Providence, the other the volume of Scripture. But, if we never are at any pains to consult them, is it to be wondered at, if we continue ignorant of their meaning and import ? "We may have in our houses, libraries stored with well chosen books, and yet be illiterate ; and may have bibles in our possession, and yet be strangers to the method of redemption through Christ, if these lie by us unread ; and what else is to be expected from those who have the volume of Providence, lying open before them every day, yet never once attem^jt to read it ? To this cause is to be ascribed much of our ignorance concerning the doings of the Lord. Our eyes are wandering abroad to behold every unim- portant object, our hearts are occupied in the pursuit of every vanity ; and we " regard not the work of the Lord, neither consider the operation of his hands." This inattention is highly criminal, and cannot but be offensive to the Lord. Why docs God work in his providence, but that we should observe and learn wisdom thereby ? Why does " day unto day utter speech, and night unto night teach knowledge," but that we should hear " the Lord's voice" which " crieth unto the city ?" The beasts of labour can distinguish the voice of their master, and, by their attention to it, discern the tones of command, of anger, andof approbation; yet, throughinattentionoften, "Israel doth not know, God's" peculiar " people, do not consider." THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 367 Yea, " the stork in the heavens knoweth her appointed times ; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time of their coming;" these creatures discern the intentions of providence, m theii' way, in the change of the seasons ; " but my people know not the judgment of the Lord." The observation of providence is a wise and profitable employment. You cannot avoid being often puzzled, and frequently stumbled, if you are careless and inattentive in remarking the doings of the Lord ; " but who is wise, and he shall understand these things ? prudent, and he shall know them ; for the ways of the Lord are right, and the just shall walk in them ; but the transgressors shall fall therein." " The works of the Lord are gi-eat ; sought out by all them that have pleasure in them ;" and their diligence in observing providence, passes not unre- warded : " For whoso is wise, and wtH observe these things, even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord. 2. In other cases it is owing to partial observation. A verse in your bibles, when read by itself, without com- paring it with what precedes and follows, may lead you into an absurdity, or into heresy. And it is just so with respect to the book of Providence. We will find it often impossible, and always unsafe, to decide concerning the divine intentions, from one individual act of his providence, or even from a partial selection of a series of actions. Our God is often " wonderful in counsel ;" but he is always " excellent in work- ing," His providence often seems to be working the ruin of his children, but it, in reality, is always preparing good for them ; and were we to conclude concerning his intentions, from those parts of it which are dark and mysterious, how often would we bewilder ourselves, and say the things that are not right concerning the Lord ? Providence should be compared with providence ; the darker with those that are more clear, that we may, by a careful observation of the several parts, perceive the divine plan. Wlio, in common life, would pretend to judge of the architect's plan, in any building, merely from looking at a few detached stones ? or who venture 368 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. to decide concerning the intention of the artist, fi'om an exami- nation only of some individual Avheel of a very complicated machine ? How much less ought we to affirm, concerning the designs of his providence, "who is wise in heart, and mighty in strength," from a partial observation of a few acts ? By such methods of judging, we offend God, injure our neighbour, and distress our OAvn minds ; offend God, by our rashness and presumption; injure our neighbour, by uncharitable judgments concerning him ; and distress our own minds, by the apprehen- sion of imaguiary evils. How offensive to God must Zion's rash- ness have been, when, becauseofsomeadversities that had befjiUen lier, she said, " The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me ! " Of how great inj ustice to their neighbours were those guilty who supposed that the eighteen men, on whom- the tower of Siloam fell, "were sinners above all the men that dwelt in Jerusalem;" and that because providence had smitten a poor man with blindness from his bu'th, either he, or his parents, had been very notorious sinners ! And what distress do the people of God often bring upon themselves by similar conduct ! If providence at any instant frowns, they look no farther into it, but conclude, that all their religion has been a delusion, and that they are yet "aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise." Providence, we should remember, has a bright side and a dark side, and as long as we look only at the one, or the other, we are apt to mistake concerning what the Lord does. Some look only at the bright side of the cloud, and imagine that all will be well with them afterwards, because all is well now ; " Lord, by thy favour thou hast made my mountaui to stand strong, I shaU never be moved :" "While others look only at the dark side of it, and figure to themselves every thing dismal and calamitous, because matters go not well at present ; they say, with Jonah, " I am cast out of thy sight." From such partial observation they are often at a loss, and often mistake ; inso- much that, with all their conjectures, what the Lord does they know not now. THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDEN'CE. 369 3. It often arises from our not comixiring Providence with the word. As from a partial observation of providence, Ave should often be at a loss, so the most accurate and extensive observa- tion of it will leave us, in many instances, in the dark, if the Avord of God is not consulted, to help us to understand its meaning. The Bible is an inspired commentary upon the book of Providence. "We must search the scriptures, in order to get light thrown upon its darker passages, and to attain an accurate view of the whole scheme. Providence is like that book Avhich John saw in the right hand of Him that sits upon the throne ; it records the accomplishment of his purposes concerning the children of men. It is " written within, and on the backside ; " full of information concerning the Lord's " counsels of old, which are faithfulness and truth ;" but it is " sealed with seven seals;" and " no man," however penetrating his mind, however accurate and extensive his observation, " is able," of himself, " to open the book, neither to look thereon." Only " the Lion of the Tribe of Judah," the root of DaAdd hath prevailed to do this ; and what he hath written in the Bible, concerning its meaning, is the only key AA'hich lets us into its genuine meaning. Who, for instance, could have explained that dark riddle of divine proA-idence, the suf- ferings of the Holy One and the Just, had not the scriptures given us a key to it, informing us, that " He Avas Avounded for our iniquities, that he Avas bruised for our transgressions, that the chastisement of our peace was upon him ? " "Who could, in the proA'idence of God, read the love of God to his people, in those afflictions which they suffer in this Avorld, if the scriptiires had not assured us, that " whom he loves, he chastens ;" that " the fi'uit of all is to take away sin ;" and that he Avill bring his people " through much tribula- tion, into the kingdom of God ? " "When we see the wicked prospei'ing, and all things going as they could wish, how dark must this part of the conduct of proA-idence be, and hoAv much must our case be like that of Asaph, unless we take the Bible commentary upon it ? " "When I thought," said he, 370 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. " to know this, it was too painful for me, until I went into the sanctuary of God ; then understood I their end. Surely thou didst set them in slippery places ; thou castedst them down into destruction." In all cases in which we are at a loss to know what the Lord is doing to the Church, or to individuals, to ourselves, or to others, let us not sit down by the candle of our o^^^l reason, attempting by its faint glimmering, to find out the reasons of the divine conduct ; let us go to the clearer light of the divine testimony, comparing his providence with his word ; and the Spirit of God speaking in the Scripture, and by means of it to our hearts, will make the crooked places of divine providence straight to our minds, and its rough places plain. It is because this is so much neglected, that, in so many instances, what the Lord doth, we know not at present, and that we so often " grope like the blind at noonday." 4. It frequently pi'oceeds from a sinful haste in Judging concerning their design. Hasty judgments, especially in matters of difficult determination, ai'e often found on reflection to have been erroneous ; and, in no case, perhaps, can more instances be quoted of the bad consequences of haste than in that before us. To this it was owing that Jacob, when he reviewed the providence of God towards his family, so egregiously erred in his conclusions. " Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away ; all these things are against me." His haste could not permit him to compare the promises of God to his family with these events ; so that he could not perceive that providence, in these dispensations, was providing good for him in his old age. To this it was owing, that David, when he reflected on the persecuting spirit of Saul, said, " I shall one day perish by the hands of Saul." He, in his haste, forgot the covenant of royalty that was made with him, and misinterpreted what the Lord was doing, in oi-der to prepare him for the kingdom, as if it had been hurrying forward his destruction. To what other cause is it owing, that the people of God so often are filled with the gloomiest apprehen- sions concerning the issue of the divine conduct towards them? THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 371 Are they in darkness ? The Lord's countenance vnW shine no more upon them. Are they in temptation ? The Lord hath given them up to the will and power of their enemies. Are they in affliction ? The Lord cares not For them ; he has cast them off. Thus, in their haste, they say, with David, " I am cut off from before thine eyes." Can this haste be commended, the fruits of which are so unseemly ? No. " He that believeth doth not make haste ; " and nothing but a faith in the God of providence, as engaged to see to their welfare, will enable them to put a proper interpretation on these parts of his con- duct. The psalmist acknowledges that he would have been overwhelmed on the day of his distress, had it not been for this : " I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the good- ness of the Lord, in the land of the living." And what was his cure, he recommends to others : " "Wait upon the Lord ; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart : wait, I say, upon the Lord." 5. It arises from the mysterious nature of the divine dispensations themselves. There are mysteries in divine providence, which the people of God are unable to explain, and which never will be explained, till the angel shall " lift up his hand, and swear by him that liveth for ever and ever, that time shall be no longer." There are mysteries in divine providence. The God of provi- dence is himself unsearchable ; and why should we wonder that he acts like himself, and that many of his operations are too high for our minds to reach, and too deep for our under- standings to fathom. "His understanding is infinite;" and must he not perceive many plans of conduct, many modes of operation, of which we can form no adequate conception ? and though we cannot perceive the justice, the -wisdom, the goodness, of many of his actions, should we presume to con- demn what we cannot perceive, or arraign, because we cannot comprehend? When our God walks abroad through the earth, in the exercise of his providence, there is a divine majesty continually attending him. " Clouds and darkness or2 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. are round about him ; he holdeth back the face of his throne, and spreadeth his cloud upon it." He throws back part of the veil of glory that surrounds him, that we may see some of the steps of the majesty of our God ; but he gives no farther discoveries of the reasons of his conduct, than his wisdom judges necessaiy for vindicating his ways to man, and rendering those inexcusable, who Avill not " regard the works of the Lord, nor consider the operations of his hand." Israel of old had this song put into their mouths : " Thy way is in the sea, and thy paths in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known ;" and we are taught to adore the God of providence in similar language: "How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways are past finding out ! " Many of the mysteries of his providence, his people in this world are unable to exjjlain. We have seen what miserable work they make, when they attempt to explain many parts of his providence, which are within their reach, and for understand- ing which, they have the scriptui'es as their teacher. It is not difficult to conjecture what must be the consequence, when they jjresume to meddle with the sublimer mysteries of provi- dence. They must bewilder themselves in the fruitless attempt; and return from the search confounded, and not instructed, distressed, and not edified. The ways of providence are like the waters of the sanctuary, in Ezekiel's vision. The man Avith the measui'ing line in his hand, led the prophet forward a thousand cubits, and the waters were up to his ankles ; lie led him forward another thousand cubits, and the Avaters were up to his knees ; he led him forward another thousand cubits, and the waters were to his loins ; he measured another thousand cubits, and it was a river which he could not pass over ; for the waters were risen, waters to swim in, a river that could not be passed over. So is it with regard to the ways of God's providence. Some of them are shallows in which, led by the Lord Jesus Christ, and conducted by the teaching of his Word and Spirit, we may venture without danger of being overwhelmed ; but THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 373 others of them are beyond the depth of man in his present state ; and, instead of venturing rashly forward, they must be left unexplored, till the day shall declare it. Our comfort, under all the darkness Avhich may encompass many of the paths of the most High, is that nothing is done by him that is opposite to holiness, inconsistent with justice, or unbecoming his infinite -wisdom and grace. Although in his providence, he often " leads his people, as the blind, by a way which they know not, and in paths which they have not known," yet he will bring them to his holy mountain at last ; and from the heights of the heavenly Zion, they shall see the whole of the winding tract by which he conducted them through the wilder- ness, and acknoAvledge, on the review of it, that " he hath done all things well." Sooner they shall not ; for, Some of these mysteries in providence never will he explained, till lie have executed his whole p)lan. Providence, like the ladder of Jacob, reaches from heaven to earth. What man on earth is endowed with such strength of sight, as to be able to trace it upward, step by step, to the top? Perhaps I may say. What angel in heaven, looking downward, is able to see to its farther end, through all its innumerable, intermediate steps ? Perhaps even those angels who are often employed as the ministers of God's providence, and are ever ascending and descending upon it, find many things for which they cannot account, and wait with the church below for the time, when the mystery of God shall be finished for a complete manifes- tation of the divine ways. The reasons why God keeps those that are dear to him in the dark, with regard to many of his proceedings, we shall in a little proceed to consider. At present I only say, that he has good reason for his conduct ; and that, although what he does, they know not now, they shall know hereafter. He will not always keep them in the dark. The day will dawn upon them at last, and the shadows will flee away. IVTiatever may now perplex them conceramg the mysteries of the gospel, the number of the ungodly, their prosperity, and the divine patience with them ; whatever may 374 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. now peq^lex them concerning the afflictions of the church, her persecutions, her divisions, the heresies that abound, the little success of the gospel ; whatever may perplex them concern- ing God's ways to them, in temporals and spirituals, will be manifested. " In the evening time it shall be light." I have finished what I intended under the first enquiry, but before I proceed to the second, there are two remarks which, I apprehend, it may be proper to make in this place. They are these. That those parts of the conduct of divine providence concerning which the people of God are most at a loss, are as consistent with infinite ^visdom, and as consistent with his new covenant love, as those which they can with the greatest ease explain. 1st. Those parts of the conduct of providence, concerning which the people of God are most at a loss, are as consistmt xcith infinite wisdom as those which they can with the greatest ease explain. The Lord has impressed his wisdom, as well as his other perfections, in the most legible characters upon all his Avorks. "When we cast our eyes abroad upon this vast creation of God, can we forbear, as we survey its several parts, taking a part in the Psalmist's anthem of praise, " Lord how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast thou made them all." When we penetrate into the work of redemption by the blood of the Son of God, still more astonishing wonders meet our eyes, and and force us to acknowledge, that here shines with unrivalled lustre " the manifold," the singularly diversified " wisdom of God." And shall the work of providence be deficient in that in which all the other works of God so exceedingly abound ? No. Here God acts as like himself, as in the other parts of his workmanship. Although our minds were unable to discover any traces of wisdom in providence, we are bound, from what we know of God, to impute this to our own ignorance ; and to be- lieve, that wherever God, only wise, is the agent, the opera- tions must all be conducted in the best manner, and directed to the best ends. In creation there are many parts in which we THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 375 cannot see -svisdom ; in redemption there is much that to the unenlightened eye has the appearance of folly; in both, it is often to our limited faculties, " the wisdom of God is a mystery." And need we be surprised that there are also dark steps in the providence of God in which we cannot trace the footsteps of a wise operator ? A man who is near-sighted will see nothing but a confused mass in those scenes which others admire for their beauty, then- regularity, and fair proportions ; but if he is not a fool, he will not pronounce them a mass of confusion, in opposition to those who, having better organs, are more qualified to judge. This is our case in this world. "We are near-sighted. We are not able to take in, at one glance, the whole plan of providence, and why should we limit the divine wisdom by oiirs ? Providence is one continued chain, reach- ing fi'om eternity to eternity, and consisting of innumerable links ; and shall we say that it is broken and disjointed, be- cause our eyes cannot reach to either end, because we can fix them only upon one part of it at once, and cannot perceive the manner in which every individual link is connected with what goes before, and what follows ? No, those that have been taught of God will be solicitous to see, and when they cannot see will desire to believe, the wisdom of the Most High in every part of his operations. If others shall pretend to see folly in any of his dispensations, they Avill not hesitate to say, " the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men." 2d. Those parts of the conduct of providence, concerning which the people of God are most at a loss, are as consistent with his neio covenant love, as those which they can with most ease explain. If Christians are at a loss to see the wisdom, they are no less at a loss to see the love of those dispensations that are dark and adverse. We have often all the folly of children about us, apprehending that our heavenly Father never loves, but Avhen he caresses ; never favours, but when he smiles. AYe should ere now have known that we are improper judges of the man- 376 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENXE, ner in Avhich it is fittest for him to express his afFection, and that m the eyes of his superior wisdom those dispensations may be the kindest, and most necessary expressions of his love, which we may apprehend betoken the greatest indiffer-. ence, or are the most cruel, One thing is most certain, that the Lord most tenderly loves all his people, and that he is " without variableness or shadow of turning" in his nature, and in his kind affections to his children. And this of itself ought to satisfy us that whatever darkness be in his dispensations, they ai-e all consistent with his infinite love. Providence often seems to run counter to the jiromise, but it only seems to do it ; it does it not. To satisfy us on this point, he has not only told us in general, " that all tilings work together for good to them that love God and are the called according to his purpose," but has helped us, in the type of the wheels in Ezekiel's vision, to con- ceive, in some measure, the manner how. He saw as it were, " a wheel within a wheel ;" an emblem of the mysteriousness of the operations of providence. It is a complex, and to appearance, involved scheme ; a variety of causes subordinate to one an- other are operating at once ; but all of them are necessary for effecting the purposes of the Great Mover, each of them is closely connected with all the others, moves in its own sphere, and fulfils its particular intention. We cannot distinctly per- ceive the inner movements, nor apprehend the reasons of them ; but we should rest satisfied that all proceeds according to the intentions of the God of providence, because "the spirit of the living creature is within the wheels :" and though one wheel moves in a direction quite opposite to another, we should rest satisfied that amidst this diversity of operations there is an unity of intention and design, to manifest the wisdom, and fulfil the gi-acious purposes of him, " of whom, and tlirough whom, and to whom are all things." The Lord cannot " take his loving-kindness utterly away" from any of his people, " nor suffer his faithfulness to fail ; liis covenant he cannot break, nor alter the thing that has gone out of his lips." "Wliatever diversity may be discovered in the dispensations of providence, THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 377 we should confide in the faithfiihiess and love of our God. Things are better in his management, than they could possibly be in ours. We would have the sun ever bright, the road ever pleasant, the sky ever serene ; but his love, under the direc- tion of his infinite -wisdom, sees it better that clouds and dark- ness should sometimes cover our sky, that difiiculties and dangers should frequently lie in our road, and that, by such a way, we should arrive at the place of our rest. "What although the Lord should make our path through this world, like that of Israel through the wilderness ? What although Sinai's thun- ders should sometimes alarm us, though fiery serpents should sometimes sting us, though the Amalekites should sometimes war against us and seem to prevail? What although we should sometimes be in want of water, and sometimes in want of bread ? What although he should sometimes lead us forward within view of Cannan, and a little after bring us to the very borders of Eg}^t ? It is our God in covenant that does all these things ; our heavenly Father that all the while conducts us ; and though we wander long through a wilderness in which we can see no way, though all the while we can " find no city to dwell in;" though " hungry and thirsty, our soul should often be ready to faint within us," he is " leading us forth by a right way, that we may go to a city of habitation." He never once acts unwisely, or unkindly ; and though what he does, we know not now, yet we shall know hereafter. The mysteries of his providence will indue time all be elucidated; and every one of them will appear to have been directed to the praise of his love, and the glory of his grace. 378 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. XIV. THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. JouN xiii. 7. — " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." PART II. The Lord Jesus by washing the feet of his disciples intended to instruct them in three necessary truths ; in the greatness of his own condescension ; in the kindness which they ought to show to one another ; and in the necessity of spkitual purification. By this action he meant to instruct them in the greatness of his own condescension. The hour was come when he was to depart out of this world unto the Father ; and, lest his disciples should apprehend either that the near prospect of advance- ment to glory, or his future enjoyment of it, would produce any alteration in the kindness and love of his heart, it is said (verses 3, 4), " Jesus knowing that the Father had 'given all things into his hand, and that he was come from God, and went to God, he riseth from supper, and, laying aside his gar- ments, took a towel and girded himself." Amazing conduct indeed ! The prospect of the least advancement on earth is apt to make our heads giddy, and lead us to treat those as unworthy of our regard, with whom we had formerly been familiar. But when Jesus saw his advancement approaching, his condescension becomes the more illustrious. When he is within a few steps of the throne, he acts the part of a servant, and washes the disciples' feet. What a proof did he give ^vy this action, that in heaven he would bear his people as much THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 879 on his mind, and manifest as much tenderness to them, as he did when on earth. He reckons it his glory to serve his people. His heart from the beginning was more set upon their happi- ness than on his own. The glory he possessed before the world began, did not hinder him from stooping to take upon him the form of a servant. The glory which he now possesses as Mediator does not prevent the exercise of his condescension, sympathy, and love. The higher the Father hath advanced him, the more is he fitted for doing service to us in om' low condition, and his people shall ever have reason to wonder at his astonishing condescension, but never to complain of his want of care. He intended, in the second place, by this action, to recommend to his disciples the mutual perfomance of kind offices. That this was in his intention is evident from what he says in the twelfth and following verses : " Know ye what I have done unto you? Ye call me Master and Lord : and ye say well ; for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you." A follower of Christ is not at liberty to despise his brother. Humility is an ornament which he should at all times wear ; and he should manifest it by kind attention to every one that serves the same master. When our worldly circumstances are more affluent, or our talents greater than those of some of our fellow-christians, we are apt to despise them as below our notice, or treat them harshly and unkindly. But in Christ Jesus there is no difference. Are we not all brethren ? Do we not all serve one master ? Is not that master's example worthy our imitation ? and his command binding on each of us ? If we aspire at true greatness, let us be ready in love to serve one another ; and thus manifest our greater conformity to Christ's example, and our more active regard to his law. He intended, in fine, to teach them the necessity of spintual purification. Tliis outward washing was a type of an inward and spiritual washing ; more necessary for the purification of 380 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. the soul, than the application of water for that of the body. " If I wash thee not," he said (verse 8) to Peter, " thou hast no part in me." By this he taught his people that they are naturally unclean ; that their impurity is such as prevents theu' enjoyment of the favour of God ; that they cannot purify themselves ; that the application of his blood and Spirit is that only which can effectually wash them ; and that their enjoyment of this proceeds entirely from his condescension and grace. How delightful in this point of view to observe Jesus washing his disciples' feet ! giving evidence of the abundance of his grace, and that he counts it not below him to wash fi'om their sins in his blood the most unclean. Who would not be disposed with Peter to cry out, " Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head ? " Such were the reasons of Jesus' conduct in washing the disciples' feet ; reasons worthy of himself, and discovering his grace. His disciples could not see his intention, because he had not revealed it to them. But it was their error to object. It became them to be submissive, and to believe that though what he did they knew not then, they should know there- after. n. Having inquired in my former discourse to what it is owing that the people of God are so often at a loss concerning the meanings of the Lord's dispensations, I now proceed to inquire. Why the Lord keeps his people so often in the DARK AVTTH REGARD TO THE REASONS OF HIS CONDUCT IN Providence toward them ? Although we could assign no reason, it were our duty to believe that he has the very best reasons for his conduct in this. The word of God permits us to assign the following. He does so, 1. To manifest his sovereignty. It is one of the peculiar prerogatives of our God, that he is not bound to give account of any of his matters. The throne of the universe is his undivided possession. There he sits, sole monai'ch of the world, reigns absolute and uncontrolled, THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 381 and acts uninfluenced by anything without himself. '• He doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth, and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, Wliat doest thou?" "When he discovers to mortals the reasons of any part of his conduct, it is voluntaiy condescension, it is what we had no right to demand. When " he makes darkness his secret place," and hideth his counsel from us, we have no right to complain. He has in kindness shown his people the final issue of all his dispensations towards them, has informed them that all is for his glory, and their everlasting good ; and may they not, ought they not, to suffer him to manage the intermediate steps as he pleases? Although he explains not to them every part of his conduct, yet, has he not a right to do with his own as he pleases ? And will not he who sustains the character, ever act the part of a father to them ? he ■\\'ill have the glory of his sovereignty as well as of his other perfections ; and he conceals from the eyes of his people some of the goings of his majesty, that they may see and adore the sovereignty of his dispensations. The sovereign agent in providence. Christian, is thy Father, thy friend. He will do nothing of which in the issue thou shalt have reason to complain ; and if he will that, in many things thou shouldst not be able now to see the designs of his providence towards thee, " what is that to thee ? follow thou him. " " The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of the isles be glad thereof." " Clouds and darkness," indeed, •' are round about him ; but righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne." " And therefore Avill the Lord wait that he may be gracious unto you, and therefore will he be exalted that he may have mercy upon you : for the Lord is a God of judgment : blessed are all they that wait for him." Though what he does thou knowest not now, thou shalt know- hereafter. 2 To keep his jJ^ople humble. The pride of human reason aspires to the knowledge of the reasons of every part of the divine conduct ; and often 382 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. presumes to censure every portion of God's ways, for which it is unable to account. One design of the Lord's dispensations in providence, as well as in gi-ace, is " to hide pride from the eyes" of man, and, by the mistakes of his people, when they attempt to interpret some dark parts of his conduct, and their total inability to assign anything like a reason for other parts of it, to lead them to see and confess their ignorance, and rely upon his wisdom and not their own. "When the student, in his inquiries after knowledge, finds every dark and abstruse point becoming light before him, he is peculiarly apt to entertain an overweening conceit of his own abilities, and forget his own meanness and insufficiency ; difficulties in his way which he can neither remove nor surmount, convey lessons of humility to his heart. So is it with the Christian. "VVlien in his inquiries, into the meaning of scripture, or into the language of providence, he sees all things clearly, he is apt to be exalted above measure, through the abundance of revelations. Provi- dence has, therefore, its dark and mysterious parts, which are intended in kindness, as means of cropping the wings of bis pride ; and of bringing him down to the dust in humility and self-abasement, when he is mounting up as an eagle towards heaven, in the self-sufficiency of his own heart. In some cases he presumes to decide without consulting God, and in the dark he mistakes his way ; and when the Lord shows him his error, he is led to say, with the Psalmist, " This is mine infirmity," and in the depth of his abasement to acknowledge, " So brutish was I and ignorant, I was as a beast before thee." Li other cases he is quite non-plussed ; tries to find out the meaning of his dispensations, but retires complaining, "Behold I go forward, but he is not there ; and backward but I cannot perceive him. On the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him ; he hideth himself on the right hand that I cannot see him." When, in spite of all his effiarts, a thick cloud conceals the path that the Almighty takes in his provi- dence, is not this calculated to promote the grace of humility in his soul ? and teach him to cry, " Behold God is great and THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 383 we know him not ; great things doeth he which we cannot comprehend." 3. To teach his i^eopk to live ly faith, and not hy sight. There is no error into which the people of God are more apt to fall, than that of judging of the divine faithfulness to his promises, and of their o^^ti interest in them, by the present aspect of things ; and none which occasions more uneasiness and disquiet to their own souls. They wish to have something more than the bare word of God to lean to for salvation ; they wish to see the beginning of a present performance, in the events of Providence towards them. But how foolish their conduct ! It is appointed that " the just shall live by faith." Providence has its dark as well as its bright spots, and how- ever much comfort the soul may derive from the right observa- tion of it, it is too variable, too uncertain a foundation on which to build the confidence and hope of a soul. He that looks to the divine promise, is like one who treads on the earth, he finds rest for the sole of his foot ; but he that tries to make the providence of God his confidence, is like one who treads upon the waters. When he sees the waves beginning to toss themselves, and feels the fury of the blast, his confidence will fail him and, like Peter, he will begin to sink. Chris- tians, beware of attempting to live by sight. "He that observeth the wind shall not sow ; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap." So he that is ever looking for some tokens in the present aspect of divine providence, and will not satisfy himself with the divine Avord, will not be able to stand in the evil day, and glorify the God of his salvation. What would Abraham have done, in that dark dispensation, when he was commanded to offer in sacrifice the child of promise, had he acted thus ? He must have " staggered at the promise of God, through un- belief." And what will you do in the day when " deep calleth unto deep, at the noise of God's waterspouts, when all his waves and his billows pass over you," if you interpret the kindness of his heart by the aspect of his providence ? You will be ready to say, "it is vain to serve God ;" and, "why 384 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. slvould I wait for the Lord any longer ? " Providence gives you this lesson, by the dark and mysterious parts of it, not to look to his operations as the ground of your hope, but to look beyond them to his word. " He abideth faithful." Let what events soever take place, his word remaineth sure ; and " he tliat believeth shall never be confounded." Take a lesson from the conduct of the Father of the faithful. He, in the dark and gloomy day, believed in the power and faithfulness of God ; and was " strong in the faith, giving glory to God." At the same time that the obscurities of Providence teach lis to live by foith, oiie main intention of them is the trial of ovr faith. Under the darkest dispensations, it is our duty to believe. " Who is there among you that feareth the Lord ; that obeyeth the voice of his Servant ; that walketh in darkness ; and hath no light ? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay himself upon his God." He saith to us in such situations, " Be not afraid : only believe." When providence smiles ; when we can read its language, and see it to be favourable, believing is, comparatively, an easy work ; but, when the shadows of the evening are stretched out ; when, to whatever quarter we turn, darkness encompasseth our paths, then the Lord puts our faith to the proof. He puts our faith into the furnace, to try its quality, and in the issue, to increase its purity ; for why does he these things ? Does not his own word tell us, that he does them, to the end that he may prove us ; and that " the trial of our faith being much more precious than that of gold which perisheth, though it be tried with fire, may be found unto praise, and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ ? " In this the people of God often mistake. They imagine that those dispensations are intended to destroy, which are only intended to try them ; that they are intended to consume, while they are indeed intended to purify them. Beware of misjudging thus of the divine intentions. Remember that he that does these things, is the God Avho " rests in his love ; " who has " faithfulness for the girdle of his loins;" and has said, "the mountains shall depart, and THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 385 the hills be removed ; but my loving-kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed." " Against hope, believe in hope." Hold fast thy confidence in the hour of trial, and believe that what he does, though " thou knoAvest not now, thou shalt know hereafter." Lastly, To show the difference betwixt this ioo7'Id and the next to his people; and to lead them to long for the breaking of the eternal day. This world is the place of trial ; the next is the place of enjoyment to the saints. God gives them, while in this world, some earnests of future enjoyment, when he makes them, like Jacob, to say, " This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." But these bright moments are of short continuance. The sun which shone so bright, soon hides his head; the sky overcasts; and the " clouds return after the rain." In their best moments, they are surrounded with a partial darkness. When they follow the direction of his word, they are guided by " a light which shineth in a dark place." When they follow the conduct of his providence, " by his light, they walk through darkness." And why has God ordered matters thus with them, but to teach them that " this is not their rest ;" and that in vain will they look for perfect enjoyment on this side heaven ? Heaven Avill be so much the more delightful to them, when they get to it, when they find so remarkable a difference between it and their situation here. Nothing in the conduct of Providence Avill appear mysterious in that happy region. What here was dubious, will there be explained ; what here was mysterious, will there be understood. While they are here, they have often reason to say, " We wait for light, but behold obscurity; for brightness, but we walk in darkness." But " there shall their light rise in obscurity, and their darkness be as the noon- day." Now, is it not the will of God, by this plan of conduct, to lead the thoughts and desires of his people towards the better country? Should not the horrors of the wilderness R 386 THE MYSTERIES OF TROVIDENCE. lead your mind toward the land of promise ? Should not the inconveniences of your darkness lead your desires towards the place, where you expect " the day to break, and the shadows to flee away?" Should not your souls, like that of David, wait for the Lord's coming " more than they that watch for the morning ; I say, more than they that watch for the morn- ing ? " In the words of the woman of Samaria, you may well say, " I know that Messias cometh" the second time " which is called Christ : when he is come, he will tell us aU things." He himself has, in the text, assured you of it : " What I do thou knowest not noAV, but thou shalt knoAv hereafter." And shouldst thou not long for that happy day, when " that which is perfect shaU come, and that which is in part shall be done away?" in. What is THAT TBIE, which in the text is styled " here- after," when the Lord shall make his people understand the meaning of his dark dispensations ? In part we have answered this inquiry already. What we mean farther to say, in answer to it, shall be under two par- ticulars : Avhat they know not now, he makes them know at some future period of time ; and sometimes not till they enter into heaven. 1 . What they know not now, he makes them know at some future period of time, when he favours them with further revela- tions of his will ; crowns their humble inquiries with success, answers their prayers for light, or clears up the darkness by future and more clear dispensations. When he favours them with further revelations of Ms ivill. How many of the methods of God's providence were mysterious to his Church in ancient times, which, by the increased light of the gospel dispensation, are now cleared up ! And how many parts of his conduct were mysteries to his people, till he himself explained them unto them ! AVlien strange events take place, they continue, like Peter, when he saw the vision of the sheet let down to the earth, to doubt in themselves what this which THE MYSTERIES OF TROVIDENCE. 387 they have seen can mean, till God lead them to his word, and "make crooked things straight before them, and rough jilaces plain." The Lord will not leave anything involved in obscurity which it is necessary for his people to know : for " the secret of the Lord is with them that fear him, and he will show unto them his covenant." If now it is not necessary that they should know it, he keeps them in the dark, saying unto them, " It is not for you to know the times and the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power." But nothing necessary to be known will be withheld fi-om them ; for " what is o-ood the Lord will give ;" and he will never prove worse than his own word. " I will instruct thee and teach thee ; I will lead thee in the way Avherein thou shouldst go." Whensoever such a necessity occurs to his infinite wisdom, his people shall receive new light, and, by a comparison of the word with providence, be made to see what he meaneth by the works which he is performing. When he crowns their humble inquiries with success. Inquiries into the meanings of providence are not always crowned with success, because they are not always conducted \^dth an humble spirit, and are sometimes pursued more from a principle of unhallowed curiosity, than from a sincere desire to know the mind of the Lord, and the duty that we owe him. But Avhen his people obey his command, to " consider the operation of his hands," he gives them encouragement to persevere in what is their duty, by crowning their diligence with some success. Though the full reward of their obedience is i-eserved till the time of the end, yet he gives them some earnests of it here. This is his own promise : " The Lord's voice crieth unto the city, and the man of wisdom shall see thy name." He does not discover to the diligent inquirer all his v*'ays, but he favours him above others ; for " who is wise, and he shall understand these things ? prudent, and he shall know them? for the ways of the Lord are right, and the just shall walk in them." " The hand of the diligent maketh rich ; " and diligence in inquiring into the meaning of pi-ovidence, shall not lose its reward. 388 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. While many, foi' want of exercising it, shall " grope for the wall like the blind, and grope as if they had no eyes," they shall " know the way of the Lord, and the judgment of their God." When he answers their' prayers for light. Under dark dispen- sations it is the duty of the children of God to ask counsel of him. " 0 send out thy light and thy truth," was the prayer of David in such circumstances; and the prayer of Job, " Show me wherefore thou contendest with me." Although the Lord may not always judge it proper to answer their prayers in this world, yet often they enjoy, in substance, the blessedness of Daniel. He prayed for instruction with regard to the mysteries of God's providence respecting Israel ; and this was his answer. A heavenly messenger was sent, who addressed him, saying, " O Daniel, I am now come forth to give thee skill and understanding. At the beginning of thy supplications, the commandment came forth, and I am come to show thee ; for thou art greatly beloved. Therefore, under- stand the matter, and consider the vision." When his people are concerned to know the reasons of his conduct, he often says, as in the case of Abraham, " Shall I hide from them the thing that I do?" Wait, therefore, in such cases upon the Lord. Beware of an unbelieving haste. Though the Lord may see it proper to refuse for a season, he will not always shut out thy prayer. " For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie ; though it tarry, Avait for it ; because it will sui'ely come, it will not tarry." When he clears vji the darkness by future and more clear dispen- sations. Peter, in the case referred to in the text, objected to what his Lord was doing, because he could not discover any worthy end to be answered by it. But our Lord, at the same time that he said, " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter," soon in the course of his conduct, explained to him the meaning of what was dark. He taught him before they separated that he meant by washing THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE- 889 their feet, to inculcate brotherly love and kind attention to one another ; and afterwards, when he poured out his Spirit from on high, gave him further insight into this and many other parts of his conduct. Following providences often explain the meaning of those that went before. The settlement of Jacob and his family in Egypt, cast light upon the preceding adversities of Jacob, in the loss of Joseph. The resurrection and exal- tation of Christ serve as a commentary to elucidate the suffer- ings Avhich he endured, and the death that he died. And how often do the people of God find the same in their experience ! When the Lord afflicted them in their persons, they could not see what he intended in his providence ; but afterwards his providence cleared it up, and they now can say, " It is good for me that I have been afflicted." When he visits them with temptations, they are puzzled ; but he shows them afterwards that he was teaching them watchfulness. When he hid his countenance from them, they w^ere distressed ; but he makes them see that he meant to teach them to live by faith and not by sight. Does he suffer them to foil ? he lets them know that it was a lesson of humility. Does he deprive them of substance ? he informs them that he meant them " to trust not in uncertain riches, but in the living God." Does he deprive them of kind relations ? it is to lead them nearer to himself as their hope. Thus, often, though he lets them not in the meantime know, he gives them afterwards to see what was the intention of his operations. But, 2. What they know not now, he reveals Jiot to them sometimes till they get to lieaven. However much the Lord may hide from the eyes of his people now, a time is coming in which " there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed, nor hid that shall not be known." Dark passages of Scripture "will then be explained ; dark dispensations will then be made plain. The wisdom of God will appear in what was most intricate, his justice in what appeared most unequal, his faithfulness in what seemed to bear most against it, his love in what looked most wrathful. " in 390 THE MYSTERIES OF TROVIDENCE. the evening time it shall be light." But of this I spoke formerly, and therefore proceed to inquire, IV. "What ASSURAXCE have the people of God that what they know not of the Lord's doings now they shall know here- after. They have one assurance of it which is worth a thousand — the Lord's own word. He has said, ye shall know hereafter. " And hath he said it, and shall he not do it ? hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good?" " The promises of God are not yea and nay ? but in Christ are yea, and in him. Amen, to the glory of God by us." As certainly as he shall " save his people and bless his inheritance" by taking them to heaven, so certainly will he manifest to them what now he sees proper to hide from their eyes. In heaven it will contribute much to their blessedness to see the mysteries of providence revealed ; and it will be one main part of their employment to celebrate him for his wonderful works towards the children of men. What blessedness will it infuse into the lot of the redeemed to see the divine perfections gloriously manifested in every one of his dispensations ; to see the clue of his providence un- ravelled, and every thread of it connected with his own glory ; to see light springing out of darkness, and order out of confu- sion. Then they will see all his dispensations to the wicked according with his holiness and justice, and know the meaning of that text, " When the wicked spring as the grass, and when all the workers of iniquity do flourish, it is that they shall be destroyed for ever." Then they will see all his dispensations to his church and people harmonizing with the purposes of his grace ; and that, notwithstanding intervening days of darkness, " light was soAvn for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart." For the glory of his own name, he will enlighten the eyes of the blessed above in the mysteries of redemption and in the mysteries of providence, that, seeing their harmony, the divine perfections manifested in them, and his faithfulness to his promises displayed, they may rejoice continually THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 391 before him, aiicl to his praise sing aloud, " Great and marvel- lous are thy Avorks : just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints. Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name ; for thou only art holy : for thy judgments are made manifest." We learn from this subject that, 1. We cannot be too much on our guard against interpret- ing the adversities that happen to others as divine judg- ments upon them. This spirit is by no means uncommon. It testifies an arrogant and presumptuous spirit for persons to dare to interpret providence in this manner : for no man knoweth love or hatred by all that is before him. In the ordinary course of providence " all things come alike to all; there is one event to the righteous and to the wicked, to the good, and to the clean and to the unclean, to him that sacrificeth and to him that sacrificeth not ; as is the good so is the sinner, and he that sweareth as he that feareth an oath." We may excuse the barbarous inhabitants of Malta for saying, when they saw the venomous beast fix itself on Paul's hand, " No doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he hath escaped the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not to live." But what excuse can be offered for Chi'istians if they shall presume to speak a similar language ? What is worst about this is, that it betrays an unforgiving and revengful spii'it. For it is in ordinary cases to be remarked, that it is concerning what befalls those with whom persons are at variance that they thus decide : and those Avho interpret the adversities of their neighbours into judg- ments, are commonly not ill jileased that these things have befallen them. Let those who are in danger of sinning in this manner, recollect the words of the text, " What I do thou knowest not now." 2. We ought not to judge of the goodness of a cause by its present success. Who would say that the cause of Israel was bad, Avhen Amalek prevailed, and good, when Israel prevailed ? And why should we, in other instances, judge of any other 392 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. cause from its present prosperity and reputation ? Have not the wicked often been "in great power, and spread tliemselves like a green bay tree ? " And have not the godly often had to pass through the Avaters, and walk long in the fire ? "Wliile there are such inequalities in the present dispensations of Pro- vidence, let us not make these, but the word, the rule of our judgment. This is a more sure word of prophecy, to which we do well to take heed. Religion is as truly from God in the dark and cloudy day, as when the sun of prosperity shines upon it. If we make the aspect of providence the rule of our conduct, we shall be variable as the wind, and unsettled as the waves of the sea ; we shall desert the cause of Christ, when it is rejiroached and persecuted, when there are few that appear on the Lord's side ; and embrace it, when men speak well of it. Those persons cannot be esteemed among men, whose friendship is regulated by the sentiments of others ; is warm when others praise, and cold when others forsake. How much less can they be friends to religion in heart, that thus act ? An Elijah will be on God's side, although all Israel should bow the knee unto Baal. A Joshua will serve the Lord, although not one should choose to worship along with him. What although truth should fall in the street, and heresies should abound ? What although religion should be despised, and iniquity prevail ? Should these things stumble us, when the Lord has told us, " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter ? " 3. We ought not to suppose that the Lord ajiproves our undertakings, because at present they prosper, or disapproves them, because at present they prosper not. Jacob was called to go into Canaan, yet what adversities met him there ? Affliction, in his case, was no evidence that his conduct dis- pleased the Lord ; neither should we conclude, that because in any situation we meet with trials, therefore the Lord is contending with us for that particular piece of conduct. When he frowns in his providence, it should be our concern to inquire into the cause ; but let us ever look into " the law THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 393 and tlie testimony," tliat there we may find it. On the other hand, so far is prosperity from being a token of the Lord's approbation of our conduct, that it is written, " the prosperity of fools shall destroy them." The Lord sometimes suffers men to prosper for a season in the way of their own hearts. If, then, we should ask, " Why doth the way of the wicked prosper ?" and wherefore do afflictions meet men in the path of duty ? we have this answer, " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." 4. We should not think it strange, although there may be parts of the divine conduct towards us, which we cannot satisfactorily explain. This is only what hath happened to all the saints. Are you tempted ? " No temptation hath taken you, but what is common to man." Are you long and sevei-ely afflicted? "Think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you." Whatever be the way in which he leads you, remem- ber others have been led to heaven in ways as dark and intricate ; follow the path of duty, whatever you meet with in it; confide in God, even though now he hides himself from you ; and rest satisfied, that what ye know not now, ye shall know hereafter. Saints, let me exhort you, diligently to observe, and prudently to interpret, the doings of the Lord : do not murmur because he hides any part of his conduct from you : hold fast your confidence in the darkest hour : patiently wait for the mani- festation of his ways : and persevere in serving him. To encourage you to these duties, consider, that providence is in the hands of Christ : that all is managed by consummate wisdom: that love runs through the whole of his dispensations; and that the issue of all shall be happy. Enemies of God should remember, that the God of provi- dence is against them : that, though he has patience, he does not forget to execute judgment : and that they shall know hereafter, if they will not now, how fearful a thing it is to 394 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. fall into the hands of the living God. He speaks to you in his providence, and by his gospel; he makes known his salvation; embrace it, although you should not now know what happiness is in religion, yet, believing in it, ye shall, to your joy, know hereafter. god's presence with his people. 395 XV. GOD'S PRESENCE WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTIOX. Isaiah xliii. 2. — "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee." PART I, In most parts of our country, ingenuity and labour have been employed, in order to lessen the fatigue, and remove the dangers of travelling. Roads are cut through woods and morasses, and over mountains ; inns are established ; and bridges ai*e thrown over rivers and brooks. But in countries which are thinly inhabited, or into which the improvements of modern times have not been introduced, travelling is full of danger and of toil. The stranger, if he has not a guide, is in perpetual uncertainty, is harassed with apprehensions ; and, if he reach his destined place, it is not till he is almost exhausted by fatigue, and after many hair-breadth escapes. At one time, he is almost faint with hunger ; at another, he is parched with thirst ; at another, either benumbed Avith the cold, or scorched by the heat, or overpowered by the severity of the storm, before he can reach a place of shelter, or find the necessary refreshments of nature. Now, he knows not at what place he shall enter the forest, to avoid being torn by the briars and thorns, or entangled in some impenetrable thicket. Then, he hesitates whether the thick mire be not too deep for him, or the marshy ground may not sink below his feet. 396 god's presence In a little, he is distressed how he sh.oll, by the best and easiest path, ascend the steep and woody mountain ; or how, in descending, he shall avoid the precipices which appear below. Again, he arrives at the banks of some deep and rapid river, or approaches some torrent descending from the mountains, and swelled by the winter floods ; and, how he shall descend, and where he shall pass through, and Avhether the waters be fordable, or the stream be not too rapid, are questions which distress his mind, and fill him with anxiety and fear. Many such impediments were in the traveller's way ; and to many such hazards was he exposed in Canaan, and especially in the countries adjacent, many of which were mountainous or waste. On this account, frequent allusions to this state of things are made by the Spirit of God in scripture ; especially in describing the christian life. The Christian is represented as a man travelling through the waste howling wilderness to Immanuel's land. His way lies not through smooth and level tracts, through verdant meadows, and flowery plains. It is rough and uneven ; it is laborious, painful, and hazardous. He is sometimes exposed to the scorching heat of persecution ; at other times, to the benumb- ing cold of poverty ; and at other times, to all the severity of the storm of adversity. He is not always near the inns of ordinances, to obtain refreshment at them ; nor can he always find, in the time of his excessive thirst, the comforts of the gospel, which, like the waters of Siloah, go softly. The malice of worldly men, like briars and thorns, often tears his character, and their opposition impedes his christian progress. Despondency, like the deep mire, at times entangles him ; and then irresolution disfigures his conduct, and every christian duty is performed with painful effort. Many a mountain of difficult duty has he to ascend, and many a steep of painful suffering has he to descend, on his way to his heavenly home. Many waters, in short, of deep distress, which sometimes rush unexpectedly upon him, like torrents from the mountains, and threaten to sweep him away into destruction, has he to pass WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 397 through ; and, though the last he meets with, yet not the least in breadth and rapidity, the river of the Jordan of death. Exposed to difficulties so numerous and great, involved in dangers so alarming, and to him inextricable, what could the Christian do ; how could he get to the end of his journey, or, after his toils, arrive in Immanuel's land, had lie not an experienced and able guide ; were there not some friendly hand to help him in these moments of pressing necessity, and conduct him in safety to his place of rest ? Such a friend, conductor, and guide, the Christian has. He is not left, undirected, to seek his way, nor, unaided, to proceed forward in it. His God has promised to go with him. In the path- less wilderness, he guides him with his eye ; out of the most inextricable mazes of difficulty, he delivers him by his A\asdom ; amid the depths of despondency, he supports him by his grace. He " makes crooked things straight before him, and I'ough places plain." There is not a difficult duty which, by his presence, he does not enable him to perform, nor a painful suffering, which he strengthens him not to endure. If even the deep Avaters of affliction, into which he must enter, intimi- date him, or the rapid I'ivers threaten to carry him down ; if even the fiery trials through which he must pass, alarm him, or the flames threaten to burn him, he has his God to look to as a present help, and his promised presence to carry him safe " through fire and through water into a wealthy place." ' ' When thou passest," he says, " through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not ovei-flow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." I intend to speak, fii'st, of those waters and rivers, which are in the Christian's way ; secondly, of his ^;a5sm^ through them ; thirdly, of the promised presence of God, dui'ing his passage ; and, fourthly, of the happy consequence of the divine presence at these seasons, in causing that they do not overflow them. I. These RIVERS axd waters, what are they ? Waters 398 god's presenx'e and rivers, when used, as here, metaphorically, are employed in two opposite senses in different parts of scripture. Because Avaters, especially in a warm climate, are so necessary for allaying the thirst of man, are so useful for cooling and invigorating the body enervated by excessive heat, and are, moreover, so calculated to beautify the landscape, and diffuse fertility through the countries in which they abound ; every thing that is comfortable and joyous, is shadowed forth by waters, rivers, and streams. " I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground. I will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the midst of the valleys. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land, springs of water." But, in other places, as in this before us, by waters and rivers, we are to understand afflictions and tribulations ; because waters, which are so beneficial, Avhen in over abun- dance ai*e so noxious ; and because he who has to pass through them has a difficult and hazardous task to perform ; and he who is plunged into them is in imminent risk of his life. Now the waters or rivers (we shall use the expressions promiscuously), the waters of affliction have these properties among others ; they are numerous, often deep, always more or less bitter, frequently muddy, sometimes bi'oad, and at other seasons, exceedingly rapid. I said, that 1. The waters of affliction are numerous. The Christian in his progress towards heaven, has not one river only to pass through ; there are many which lie between him and that happy land ; for " many are the afflictions of the righteous." In token of this, the expressions of the text ai'e plural ; " waters," " I'ivers." What are they ? Let me name some of them. There are first, the waters of desertion. Into these the soul is plunged wlien " God in a little wrath hides his face" from any of his people " for a moment." Out of these depths the Psalmist cried unto God, when he said, " Save me, 0 God, for the waters are come in unto my soul. I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me ; mine eyes fail, while I wait for my God." There are, again, the waters of soul-terror. Into these the WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 399 saint has entered when the threatenings of the law alarm him, or the apprehension of wi'ath fills him with dismay, Avhen guilt stares him in the countenance, and deserved indignation affrights him as ready to descend upon him. In the midst of these, Heman uttered this doleful complaint ; " Thy fierce wrath goeth over me ; thy terrors have cut me off. They came round about me daily like water ; they compassed me about together." Agam, there are the waters of reproach and contempt, of dishonour and shameful revilings. Through these Job complains that he had to pass ; " They that are younger than I have me in derision. Now am I their song; yea, I am their by-word. They abhor me, they flee far from me, and spare not to spit in my face. They came upon me as a wide breaking in of waters : in the desolation they rolled themselves upon me ; the days of aflliction have taken hold upon me." Besides, there are the waters of j^sisecntion. The stream of this river pressed sore against David, and threatened to carry him down before it, when he thus cried unto God: " Let me be deli- vered from them that hate me; and out of the deep waters. Let not the water flood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up." And in another place, " Send thine hand from above ; rid me, and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of strange children ; whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood." Moreover, there are the many waters of adversiti/, whether of a public or private, of a personal or relative kind. Into these the inhabitants of Tyre were brought ; " for thy rowers," says the prophet, " have brought thee into great waters;" and these words were ful- filled, " I will bring up the deep upon thee, and great waters shall cover thee." But why enumerate more particulars ? Affliction is the common lot of humanity. " Man is born unto trouble." In one form or another, all the inhabitants of the world experience affliction ; " and the children of God often have more than the ordinary share. In travelling to the heavenly land, they do not ordinarily proceed far without in- terruption on the plain. Adversity, in some one or other 400 god's presence of its many streams, meets them in the way ; and though many of these may be avoided without the necessity of passing through them, the waters of Jordan must be passed before they can arrive within the ten'itories of the land of promise. " Tlirough much tribulation we must enter into the kingdom." 2. The waters of affliction are often deep. Every stream is not a brook ; tliere are rivers, as well as rivulets. So afflic- tions are not all, to sense, " light afflictions ;" many of them are lieavy. The smallest vexation, the slightest disappointment, the most moderate pain, is, in its nature, an affliction ; but these are only as brooks compared with those greater adversi- ties to which the children of men are often subject. What, for instance, is pain of body to anguish of mind ? " The spirit of a man may sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear ? " I need not tell you that the stream is easily passed over in the summer months, or when the sky is serene and settled, compared with what it is in the midst of Avinter, or when it overflows its banks in consequence of the descending tor- rents. And how easy a matter is affliction Avhen all is still and the soul enjoys inward peace, compared with Avhat the saint experiences when the heavens above frown upon him as well as things on earth ! When it goes well Avith the soul, Avhen the Christian Avalks " in the light of God's countenance," in ''the fellowship of Christ", and "in the comforts of the Holy Cihost," the AA^aters of trouble are easily forded, they seem not half so deep as at other times. Neither need I tell you, that the union of many streams occasions a greater depth of Avater than is to be found in any of them singly. And hoAV deep must the affliction of that saint be, Avho meets Avith combined dis- tress ! When " Avithout are fightings, and Avithin are fears," " Avhen deep calleth unto deep, at the noise of God's Avater- spouts ; Avhen all God's Avaves and billoAvs are gone over" a child of God, the streams which separately, had reached no far- ther " than his ankles," or gone no higher " than his knees," now reach " his loins," or appear to him " Avaters to swim in, a river that cannot be passed over." In such combined distress, WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 401 amid such accumulated causes of sorrow, we need not wonder if the chikl of God at times be heard to complain with Jonah, " Thou hast cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas : and the floods compassed me about : all thy bUlows and thy waves passed over me." 3. The waters of affliction are always more or less bitter. Their name may be styled " Marah : for they are bitter." Whatever consolations may be mingled with the afflictions of the childi-en of God, to render them less disagreeable to their taste, there is no person who drinks of them that will style them pleasant. Nature revolts at sufferings. " No chasten- ing for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous." How indeed can they be sweet, when it is considered from what fountain they flow, and what ingredients are mingled with them ? Whatever there be of the sovereignty and good plea- sure of God in sending them, a Christian ought to consider them as proceeding from sin ; that fountain from which all the Tjitter waters of sorrow take their origin, and whence all the griefs of life proceed. Though the afflictions of saints proceed not from the curse, and are not now, as they were in time past, mingled with the bitter gall of divine indignation ; though they ought to believe that, in this sense, God has said to the deep, "Be dry; and I will dry up thy rivers;" though there is much of new-covenant love, and nothing of uncovenanted wrath in any of them ; yet the afflictions of saints are em- bittered, by the consideration that their heavenly Father is displeased; and that it is their own "wickedness that corrects them, and their backslidings that reprove them ; " and they ai'e made to " know and see that it is an evil thing and a bitter which they have done, in forsaking the Lord their God." He who, when passing through the waters of affliction, feels not that they are bitter, is insensible and stupid. The saint, even when he is enabled to say, " I know that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me," must acknowledge the unpleasantness of an afflicted lot ; and wliile by faith and hope he is enabled to " rejoice in tribulation," nature within him groans, desir- 402 god's presence ing to bq delivered. Religion regulates, it does not destroy the feelings of nature : it makes not the Christian insensible to sufferings ; it enables him to bear up under them, and look forward in hope to the time of deliverance. A child of God experiences much bitterness in many of those waters, which, if not sweet, yet have comparatively little bitterness to Avorldly men. Temptation, for instance, and desertion ; the irreligion of the generation, and the carelessness of relations in matters of eternity, how bitter to a godly soul ! yet, to the vitiated taste of Avorldly men, the bitterness of these is unknown, or little felt. 4. The waters of affliction ^yq. frequently muddy. "When the watei'3 of a river are raised above their ordinary level in conse- quence of the superabundant rains which have fallen upon the earth, they are more or less mixed with the soil, and have neither their accustomed purity nor clearness. When most plentiful, they are least limpid ; and the traveller who has to pass through them, besides the uneasiness which he suffers from perceiving theii' increased quantity, is distressed because he can neither see the bottom, nor conjecture their depth. How often in times of affliction is it thus with the saints ! The designs of providence are wrapt up in obscurity. Their eye is unable to discover the reasons of the divine controversy with them ; neither can their anxious minds form any idea of that depth and severity of distress which they must yet suffer, before they obtain deliverance. When the Avaters of affliction " roar and are troubled," "fearfulness affrights" them. Their boding minds figure every thing awful to them respecting the designs of providence in sending such distress, and respecting the final issue of it to their souls. Such darkness and un- certainty are by no means uncommon to saints in gi*eat distress, and are no small aggravation to it. God's " way is often in the deep, his paths in the mighty waters, and his footsteps not known." He conceals the designs of his operation not un- frequcntly from his people : " they know not the way of the Lord, nor the judgments of their God." Often, with Job, they have cause to complain, " Behold, I go forward, but he is WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 403 not there ; and backward, but I cannot perceive him ;" and it is not always tliat in faith they are enabled, with him, to add, " but he knoweth the way that I take ; when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold." No ; sense often prevails over faith ; and carnal reasonings are more listened to than divine declarations. With Jacob, they conclude, that " all these things are against them ; "or, with Israel, in haste say, " My way is hid from the Lord, and my judgment is passed over from my God." How much better, how much more dutiful to him Avho afflicts, and comfortable to themselves, who are afflicted, to believe, that though " clouds and darkness are round about him, yet righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne ;" and that, though " what he does, they know not now, they shall know hereafter ! " He will indeed " lead them like the blind, in a way which they know not, and in paths which they have not known ;" and if he clear not up his dispensations towards them while they are passing through affliction, he wiU carry them safely through the deej) waters, and at last " make their light to arise in obscurity, and their darkness be as the noonday." 5. The waters of affliction are in many places broad. The river is often confined by the height of its banks within a narrow channel, and whatever be the difficulty of passing through, the traveller soon reaches the farther side ; but, at other times it spreads itself out to a great extent, and it is not till after many a weary step, that he reascends to the dry land. The waters of affliction are in like manner at times naiTow. Trouble endures sometimes " but for a moment," for a short season ; hence we read of the " hour of temptation," and of " the day of trouble and distress." But often they ex- tend over a great space ; and it is not till after many " days wherein they have been afflicted, and years in^which they have seen evil," that the people of God are made glad by deliverance vouchsafed them. Though some of them suffer less affliction than others, yet saints are commonly, what their Lord himself was, men of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. The Lord 404 god's presence who never afflicts willingly, nor chastens without a cause, keeps his own often long in the furnace. Through many years they sometimes travel, Avith little interruption, through a valley of Baca ; and in old age may say, with Heman, " I am afflicted and ready to die, from my youth up." It is no small addition to trouble of any kind, when it is lengthened out. The soul is ready to foint because of its continuance ; faith is ready to fail, patience to be exhausted, and hope to die out. The saint looks long, and cries long for deliverance; he is apt to " weary of his crying, and his eyes to fail while he waits for his God ;" and hence he groans out his complaints : " How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord, for ever ? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? Plow long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? How long shall mine enemy be exalted over me ? " We can, indeed, in no case see the farther bank of the river of trouble. A mist hangs over it. When we enter into it, we can never say, how long it shall be before we reascend out of it. This only we knoAV, that, when the journey of life is finished, we shall be delivered out of all tribulation, and " the days of our mourning shall be ended." 6. Tlie waters of affliction are at certain seasons exceedingly rapid. They sometimes descend upon the saint with all the rapidity of a torrent, and ere he is aware he is in the midst of great distress, and sore affliction. We see not troubles always before they approach. Often when we least expect them we are surprised by them, and ere we are alarmed by the appre- hension of evil, are surrounded by it. How often, as in Job's case, do tlie messengers of woe Avith hasty steps come running unto us at a time Avhen all is quiet, and Ave looked for joy. " They came upon me," said that afflicted man, " as a wide breaking in of Avaters ; in the desolation they rolled themselA-cs upon me. When I looked for good then evil came unto me : and Avhen I Avaited for light then came dark- ness. The days of affliction prevented me. My harp also was turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep." But even when the soul is long in expectation WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 405 of days of trial, and it enters the stream with full warning of what it is to meet Avith, it is often found more rapid than Avas supposed, and descends with a force which it is not easy to sustain. I speak not merely of the unexpected violence of trouble of body which is ready to hurry them down into the " swellings of Jordan," I speak of the unexpected difficulty of maintaining an equal balance of mind in the season of distress. The soul, when from a distance it views the trials of life, is ready to think it an easy thing to bear up against them, and instead of sympathizing with others who are passing through the waters, and giving the best encouragements, is ready to speak harshly to them, and talk to the gi-ief of those whom God has wounded. But when his own feet descend into the deep waters, and in his own turn he has to struggle against the rapidity of the current, he finds that it is no easy matter to avoid sinking into despondency, or being carried down the stream because of faintness of spirit in the day of trial. When in the time of temptation, "the enemy com eth in like a flood," how often do saints yield before him. When floods of un- godly men descend upon the saints by the force of their ex- ample, or rush upon them by the violence of their power, how often in the one case, are they carried down into imitation of their conduct, or shaken from their stedfastness by the influ- ence of fear ? In short, to keep a firm heart, and pursue an even course, at once guarding against unbelief and impatience, against rash haste and desponding fears, in the midst of severe trials, every saint who has been in the depths will acknow- ledge, is beyond the natural power, and cannot be performed, by the unaided strength of any child of God. " If it were not the Lord Avho is on their side," to sustain them in such moments, " then the Avaters would overwhelm them, the stream would go over their soul ; then the proud waters would go over their soul." II. Having spoken at large concerning the waters and rivers through which the people of God on their journey to 40G god's presence heaven must pass, we shall say less on the second head of discourse, which was to speak of their passing through THEM, Wliat I intend here shall be comprehended under the few following observations. 1. There is no getting to heaven without passing through the waters. The heavenly land, like Canaan to Abraham when he dwelt in Urr of the Chaldees, " lies beyond the flood," and through this we must pass before we can enter in and possess it. Affliction is the promised portion of saints in this world. The great head of the church himself passed through many waters of tribulation, and " drank of the brook by the Avay, before he lifted up the head," and entered into his glory. And there is no other road to heaA'en but that by which " the forerunner entered into that within the vail." "We must be conformed to him in sorrows, else we cannot dwell with him in joys. It is only " if so be that we suffer Avith him," " that Ave shall be glorified Avitli him hereafter." Look into the history of the saints in former ages. Each of them in his order seems to say with Jeremiah, " 1 am the man who hath seen affliction." And there is no way by which Ave can get to heaven but that in Avhich they have gone before us. We must suffer affliction here Avith the people of God, before Ave can be par- takers Avith them in their joys ; must " descend by the A'alleys" before Ave can " ascend the mountains of myrrh and the hills of frankincense ;" must pass through the rivers befoi'e we reach the happy land which lies beyond them. Not that God takes pleasure in the afflictions of his children, or delights in gi'ieving the sons of men ; but because his wisdom and grace see it necessary both for their present and future advantage that they " sow in tears," before " they reap in joy." It is only " if need be Ibat they are in heaviness through manifold trials;" and, because he Avishes their purification from the remainders of sin in them, and the invigorating of them in every grace, he plunges them into these many Avaters, and causes them pass through these deep rivers, and by this means washes aAvay their defilement, and invigorates their souls in grace. AVITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 407 2. Sotne saints pass through 7nany more waters of affliction, and more rivers of trouble on their way to heaven than others. Travel- lers who set out to the same place from different parts of the country, pass through tracts considerably different in their form and scenery. Among other things, one meets with many rivers which another avoids ; and is at a distance from some, through which others must pass. So it is with the travellers to Zion. Although this is common to them all, that they must pass through the waters, yet each body is subject to its own diseases, each soul to its own troubles. Among the children of God, difference of constitution renders them liable to different diseases of body ; and difference of temperament to different distresses of mind. Difference of situation in life exposes to different trials, and different occupations to different tempta- tions. One experiences the trials of poverty, and another, who never met with these, the no less perilous trials of wealth. In times of persecution, saints are tried with " cruel mockings, and scoui'gings ; yea, moreover, with bonds and imprisonment ;" but, in quiet times, they are tried with ease, and peace, and prosperity, and the temptations which result from them. Some have little experience of the hidings of God's countenance, of terror of mind and disquiet of conscience ; whereas others almost continually subject to these, are much strangers " to the joy and peace which is in believing," and walk seldom " in the comforts of the Holy Ghost." Thus the Lord singularly, in wisdom and sovereignty, diversifies the lot of his people. While, in one point of view there is "no strange thing happens" unto any of them, but Avhat is common to the saints, in another, eveiy " soul knoAvs its OAvn bitterness," and a stranger partakes not of its peculiar griefs. Amid this diversity all walk through trouble, and all go to one place ; all enter the river of death, and pass through it to the place where " there shall be no more sorrow, nor crying, neither any more pain," 3. The travellers to Zion pass through the same ivaters at dif- ferent stages of their journey. The rivers, if I may pursue tlic figure so far, have not an even and straight, but a winding 408 god's presence course. Hence, they are met by the travellers from different parts at earlier or later periods, at greater or less distances. Every period, both of the natural and christian life, is subject to distress. In the natural life, infancy and youth have their diseases, as well as maturer years; and those which some meet with almost in the very outset of life, others experience not till they are descending into the vale of age. In the spiritual life, the new convert suffei-s many terrors, experiences many temptations, meets with many disappointments, as well as those who have been longer "following the Lamb whitherso- ever he goeth ;" but who shall say that the very same trials are attached to the very same period of the christian life? or that because they have been escaped hitherto, they shall not here- after meet us? God is sovereign in his dispensations; and in the period in which he sees meet, in any form, to try his people, as in every thing else, he manifests himself to be supreme. At any rate, in whatever form he tries, at whatever period he afflicts, it ought to be the firm persuasion, that " he is holy in all his ways, and righteous in all his works;" that wisdom which is infinite, and grace which is superabounding, direct his operations ; and that, in the most singular of his dis- pensations, he is " leading his people by a right way, that he may bring them to a city of habitation." 4. Through the very same waters of affliction, the Christian in 1 lis journey has often more than once to pass. We ought not to imagine that, because we have been in any particular period afflicted in a certain manner, Ave shall no more experience that distress. A security of this sort is not founded on experience, and he who indulges in it may be undeceived in a manner that may exceedingly distress and alarm. Israel in the wilderness were sometimes brought forward almost to the borders of the land of promise, and thought that they had little more to do before they should enter in, than pass the streams of Jordan ; but they were sometimes brought back almost to the shores of the Red Sea, and had thus frequently to tread over the sands of the wilderness, and to encounter all its horrors. And this WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 409 is a picture of the christian life. While the Lord leads his people up and down through the world, they are frequently exposed to the same temptations, frequently suiFer the same afflictions, and meet with the same trials. With different circumstances, it is true, of comfort or of distress, they meet with them; but, as Israel might say respecting the same enemies of her peace, " many a time have they afflicted me from my youth," so may the child of God. The enemies of his soul, though once foiled, give not over the combat; they renew their endeavours against him. Let Christians remem- ber this. You have known already such distresses ; but, remember that you may yet again experience them, and be prepared for the event. The waters through which you have already passed may wind about, and, as you go forward, 3'ou may have to pass through them yet again. Never think your- selves secure against any one trial, or temptation, or affliction, while you are so far from the house of your heavenly Father. 5. The Christian, in passing through the waters and the rivers, much needs a guide and helper. Lideed, without one, he could never pass through them in safety. What is his own Avisdom? It is folly; and folly could never guide his steps when travel- ling through these depths. What is his courage? It is cowardice; and faintness of heart would overcome him, and he Avould be carried down by the stream. What is his strength ? It is a thing of nought; and could not enable him to resist the impetuosity of those torrents which assail him. The Christian is not " sufficient to think anything as of him- self;" how much less to perform any action aright. In the time of prosperity, he has neither wisdom nor power to guide his steps; "it is not," even then, "in man that walketh to direct his own steps." How great, then, must his necessity be, when trials and distresses surround him. But who can lead him safely through the deep ? Fellow Christians need the same assistance with himself. The world are ignorant of the nature of many of his severest trials, and are neither disposed nor able to give him help. Who can lead him through the 410 god's presence waters ? " He who brought Moses and his people up out of the sea ; he who led them ■^^^th his glorious arm, dividing the water before them, to make himself an everlasting name ; he who led them through the deep, as an horse in the wilderness, that they should not stumble ; " he, and he only, has wisdom or power sufficient for this. And what he can, he has pro- mised to perform. " When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee," WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 411 XVI. GOD'S PRESENCE WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. Isaiah sliii. 2.—" "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee." PART II. On examining a well drawn map of any country, we find it intersected with large rivers, running in different directions through it ; we observe them fed by many smaller streams, which springing perhaps fi-om inconsiderable fountains, collect more waters as they proceed, and gradually increase in size, till uniting in large bodies, they meet the tide, and lose themselves in the ocean. In surveying the map of human life, similar objects are presented to our view. Afilictions, like rivers, are spread over the whole surface. Issuing some of them from the gi-eat fountains of the corruption of human nature, and some of them from the seemingly inconsiderable springs of worldly vexations and disappointments, they often unite their streams, swell into a great size, and cease not to flow, till they empty themselves in the vast and boundless ocean of eternity. The Christian in travelling to Immanuel's land, meets with many of these waters and rivers. And however averse he may be to descend into them, or however solicitous he may be to direct his steps, that he may avoid them, into them he must enter, through them he must pass, before he can reach the heavenly land. He has not always, as in one instance David 412 god's presence had, a choice among them. However deep they be, or bitter theii- waters ; however troubled, broad, or rapid, he must proceed forward; for "through much tribuhition he must enter into the kingdom of God." How meL^ncholy a life would the christian life be, how full of fear, of discomfort, and of hazard, were he permitted to proceed unguided, or obliged to go forAvard AAathout help ! He would be a miserable man. But in this lies his consolation, that one has promised to go with him to guide and help him, who is of all others, the best fitted for the office. The God whose he is, and whom he serves, has promised to go himself with him. " When thou passest through the waters, I Avill be with thee, and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." HI. I have discoursed of the rivers and waters through which the Christian must pass in his progress heavenward, and also of his passing through them ; and I now proceed to speak of THE promised presence of God during his passage, and of the happy consequence of it. Now, concerning the presence of God with his people, when passing through the waters and rivers, the following things, among others, are worthy of our attention. 1. That it is the presence of God himself which is promised, and not merely by means of instruments. God is present with his people in many different forms ; all of which are calculated to solace them in time of trouble. He is present A\-ith them by the scriptures, which are his word ; and in trouble, how helpful is this to the saints ! In the depths of distress, his word is at once a guide, a comforter, and an helper ; a guide, "Thy word is a light unto my feet, and a lamp unto my path;" a comforter and a helper, "This word of thine is my comfort in my affliction ; for thy word hath quickened me." He is present with them by his ordinances ; and in the time of distress, how much have the people of God been supported and revived by many of them ! Often have they " seen his power and his glory in the sanctuary ;" frequently WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 413 have they, by faith, behekl his countenance, and tasted of his love ; and by this means, been encouraged to enter into the deep waters, and supported when passing through the floods. But what were the word of God, and what the ordinances of God, to an afliicted saint, if God himself were not present with him in them, and by means of them, to help and comfort and deliver ? Were he absent, the sweetest promises of the scripture would be only as " songs to an heavy heart ;" the most refreshing ordinances, but " as diy breasts and a mis- carrying womb." His presence alone can " make a way for his people through the deep that so they may pass over ; and turn the shadow of death into the morning." Moreover, God is present with his people by his servants, who are his messen- gers, and act in his name. But what were ministers to an afliicted saint, if God himself were not present ? They can- not themselves help one who is in the depths of distress ; and after all that they could either say or do, with Job the soul might reply, " ^Miserable comforters are ye all." It is his presence, by means of what they are directed to say from his word, which can give relief to an afflicted soul. The Lord has more love to his people, than to leave any of them to pass through the waters with no other comforter or helper, than the best of men, or even than the greatest angels. Their wisdom, and power, and grace are finite and limited. They have no manner of ability for an undertaking so arduous. He himself has therefore promised to be with them, and this is everything. " Fear not, for I am with thee ; be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee ; yea, I will uphold thee, with the right hand of my righteousness." 2. That it is the special presence of God which is promised to be Avith them, when passing through the waters. God is an omnipresent God. By his essential presence, he fills heaven and earth. Every creature enjoys this presence of God ; no creature, however desirous of it, can hide himself from it. Adam could not conceal himself from God when he hid him- 414 god's presence self among the trees of tlie garden ; neither could we, though we were " to take the -wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea." He is present, in like manner, by his pro^'idential care in upholding and governing the creatures which his hands have made. But, alas, what con- solation could an afflicted saint derive from the presence of God, were this all that were included in the promise. By his essential presence, he is with the damned in hell; and not- withstanding this, they are not the less miserable. By his ordinary, his common presence in providence, he is present with the wicked on earth in the time of their afflictions, and, yet they cease not " to howl upon their beds, and make a noise ;" and are carried down by the waters of affliction, into which they enter, and are drowned in endless perdition. If the promise has any meaning, or any comfort in it, it is a promise of special presence ; a promise of his presence as a God of gi'ace and love. Such a God he is to his people, and such he will prove himself to be. He is their own God in covenant ; their reconciled father and friend ; and in these characters, he has engaged himself, by promise, to be -wath them in the midst of the deep waters. And how full of com- fort, and how big with help and deliverance is the text, when considered in this point of view ! We wish in the time of trouble to be near our friends, for we figure a great deal of sympathy from them, of kind attention, and of seasonable help. Yet, their sympathy cannot remove our anguish, nor their help effect our deliverance. But how well provided for is the child of God, who has the gi*eat Jehovah Avith him as a father and a friend ! Wliat sympathy may he not expect from the compassions of his heavenly Father ? What conso- lation from his gracious words ; what relief from his helping hand ? Though he should have the sympathy of no human heart, the aid of no created arm, the Christian is not destitute. In these respects, he is well provided for ; " for God's hand is at no time shortened, that it cannot save." In the faith of this, the afflicted saint may rejoice in the midst of tribulation. WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 415 '< God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea ; though the waters thereof roai', and be troubled ; though the mountains shako with the SAvelling thereof." 3. That it is the presence of the three-one God, which is pro- mised to us, when passing through the waters. The promise of the text is equally the promise of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; for, mdeed, all of them are engaged by promise and covenant to watch over, to preserve, and bless the believer in Christ. What more is necessary to assure a believer of this, than the consideration that the divine persons are one in will ; and that the scriptures are the words of God the Father, spoken to us by the Son, who is the great revealer of the mind of God, and written by men under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost ? Yet, as the scripture speaketh still more expressly, let us examine what it says. As for the Father (we doubt not that they are to be considered as his words), we find him promising, when Israel were entering the wilderness, " My presence shall go with thee, and I will give you rest ; " and again, when they were about to pass over the Jordan, in order to take possession of the promised land, " Be strong, and of a good courage ; fear not, for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee ; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee." Has not Christ, in like manner, promised his presence, not with ministers only, but with all his saints, saying, " Lo, I am with you always ? " Have we not, moreover, assurance that the Spirit, as sent by the Father and the Son, will be \vith us in all trials and distresses : " This is my covenant with them, saith the Lord, my Spii'it that is upon thee shall not depart out of thy mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy seed, nor out of the mouth of thy seed's seed, saith the Lord, from henceforth and for ever." And again, "I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever ; even the Spiint of Truth ; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you." Now, how full of comfort, in 416 god's presence this view of it, must the promise of the text be to the Christian, when passing through the waters ? You shall have with you, Christian, in the midst of the deep, a heavenly Father who loves you tenderly, and will suffer no evil to befal you. You shall have Avith you your elder brother, Christ, who, though " passed into the heavens is touched vnth the feeling of our infirmities ; " who himself has had experience of affliction, and has a heart to pity, and a hand to save ; who is indeed " able to save to the very uttermost all that come unto God by him." You shall have, moreover, with you the Spirit of God ; whose office it is to help the people of God in their distresses, and to comfort them with his peculiar consolations. Away, then, with Avorldly confidences. Leaning to them, you lean to a broken reed, which cannot assist or support you in these deep waters. " Trust in the Lord Jehovah, for with him is ever- lasting strength." Away, too, with desponding fears. He may fear, who has none but man to help him in his distress. But why should he fear who has Jehovah with him? He cannot fail, nor prove an insufficient help. " Salvation is of the Lord." 4. That it is the presence of the Lord in all distresses which is here promised. Were there one river through which a saint had to pass, in which he had not reason to expect the divine presence, he should have reason to be afraid. But as his presence is intended for their consolation and salvation, the promise reaches to every kind of distress. Accordingly, similar promises scattered through the scriptures explain and enlarge the promise of the text. Are we in the waters of desertion ? We are exhorted " to trust in the name of the Lord, and stay ourselves on our God ; " and why should he command us to stay ourselves on him, if he were not then present as a staff and stay to us ? His absence in desci'tion is as to light, not as to influence ; it is not real but apprehended ; he is still with us, only he hides his face for a moment. Ai'e we called to pass through the waters of laAV terror ? He has sworn that " he will not be wroth with us ; " and would he WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 417 not be WTOtli with us, if ho should depart from us ? The frown that is on his countenance, is the froAvn of a God of love ; he is present all the while to keep our minds from sink- ing, and the proud waters from going over our soul. Ai-e we called to pass through the waters of temptation ? He is there with us ; for, in this case he has said, " My grace is sufficient for thee ; for my strength is made perfect in weak- ness." Are we passing through the waters of personal or relative distress ? "I will be with him in trouble," he has said, " I wiU deliver him and honour him." Yea, in the last river through which we must pass, we have equal reason to expect his presence ; and in the faith of it may, with David, sing, " Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." In short, there is no river through which we pass, in which he has not promised his presence. Let us not doubt it. He is a faithful God. His promise is sure ; and as he promised, so he ever will be a God at hand, and not a God afar off. 5. That it is his presence at all times which is promised. He is not like a stranger who occasionally appears for the relief of the saints, Avhen struggling with the stream and ready to be swept away by it. No, he abides with his people. "Whenso- ever they are passing through the waters, they may be per- suaded of his presence ; when entering into trouble, when in the midst of it, when coming out of it. Take his own word for it. " With everlasting loving-kindness I wiU have mercy on thee. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from thee ; neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord, that hath mercy on thee." " For he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Though his people offend he does not utterly depart ; for " he rests in his love." AVhy then should the Christian be discouraged ? You have offended God, and he has cast you into the deeps ; but he will not utterly depart from thee. He " will not cast off his people, 418 god's presence neither Avill lie forsake liis inheritance." Though for your sins the Lord " cause grief, yet will he have compassion accord- ing to the multitude of his mercies." Let David's song, dis- tressed Christian, be yours. " Though I walk in the midst of ti-ouble, thou wilt revive me : thou shalt stretch forth thine hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and thy right hand shall save me." 6. That it is the preseme of God with all the saints when pass- ing through the waters that is here promised. There is no room for any feai-er of God to suppose that this great and comfortable promise is not intended for him. The same reason that there is for the divine love to any one saint, there is for his loving all ; and that is, not their gi-eatness or their goodness, but his own good pleasure. The same interest Avhich he has in one saint he has in all ; for they are all the people of his choice, are all the purchase of Christ's blood, are all united to him, in covenant with him, and interested in him. The same necessity that there is for his presence wnth one saint when passing through the waters, there is for his pre- sence with all ; and that is, on the one hand, the afflictions which they suffer, and on the other hand, their inability to help themselves. The greatest saint, and he who is least in the kin"-dom of heaven, are alike unable, without the divine presence and help, to behave suitably under affliction, or to deliver themselves out of it. "It is God," and he alone, "who performeth all things for them, who worketh all their works in them and for them." The same promises, moreover, which are made to one saint, are made to all. The promise of the text, and those many others scattered through the Bible, aro^ expressed in terms alike suitable to all ; and whatever the desponding Christian may think of his own conduct in putting the promises from himself, it is not humility but pride, it is not modesty but unbeHef, that is the spring of such conduct. Has he said, " When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ?" and has he put no limits on his word? has he spoken in general terms ? and why then may I not believe, WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 419 that he intended this for me ; why may I not believe, that in my trouble, according to his word, he will be with me ? Yes, with Abraham, and Moses, and Joshua, and David, and the rest, he has expressly promised his presence ; and were I such as they were, he would also be with me. But is not what was written aforetime, concerning God's presence with them, written for thy instruction, that thou, through patience and comfort of the scriptures, mayest have hope ? and are there not similar promises in the word, and is there not the same love in the heart, and fulness in the covenant, and grace in the promise of God for thee, that there were for them '!■ Unjust partialities are unknown with our God. He loves all his children, and he vnM provide deliverance for them all. He is the friend of all his people, and he will be with them all, to deliver them out of all their distresses. If the promise of the text was made for any, it was for them that especially need his presence and help. And the weaker thou art, and the more helpless in thyself, the more evident is thy necessity, and the greater the evidence, that he " who will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax," intended it for thee. IV. Let us now consider the happy consequence of the divine presence -svith the saints, when they pass through the waters ; the rivers shall not ovei-flow them. The conse- quences of his presence, are not less numerous than joyful to them. " When thou passest through the waters, I will be ■with thee ;" by my wisdom, to direct thee through them ; by my Spirit, to comfort thee in them; by my blessing, to sanctify them to thee ; by my power, to strengthen thee to pass through them ; by my grace, to deliver thee from them ; and if he is thus present, sure they do not overflow them. 1 . He is with them, b?/ his ivisdom, to guide them in the waters, and direct them through the rivers of tribulation. It is his general promise to his people, " I will guide thee with mine eye ; " and if there is any season in which the people of God need divine counsel and heavenly guidance, it is in the season of distress. 420 god's presence The saints are often brouglit to the sad and puzzling case of King Jchosliaphat, wlicn he cried, " We know not what to do, hut our eyes are upon thee." They often know not what to do. They know not whetlier to go forward or to turn hack ; whether to turn to the right hand or to the left. Behind them, before them, all around them, they see difficulties, and they see no way of escape. They are like men, whom God has hedged in, and who cannot find their paths. If tempted, whether shall they flee temptation, or go forward and resist it ? If deserted, whether shall they go forAvard or back, or look to the right hand or to the left, in inquiring after the God of Jacob, Avho hideth himself from their souls ? If reproached, whetlier shall they tamely submit to the reproaches of the enemy, or modestly, and as reason and religion allow, vindi- cate their own characters ? These are difficulties, for directing them in which, Avisdom is profitable to direct; and Avhat wisdom can, but the wisdom of him who is "the only Avise God?" Now, to whom shall they look but unto him ? He is the Lord their God ; and the name that he takes to himself is, " He that teacheth thee to profit ; that leadeth thee in the way in which thou shouldest go." But wdiat reason have they to expect wisdom from him ? They have the promise of his presence; and by his presence he will instruct; "he will cause them to hear a voice behind them, saying, this is the way, walk ye in it ;" and not suffer them to turn aside to the right hand or to the left. Guided by his wisdom, they shall walk through the waters as on dry land ; and whatever they may fear, shall get through the deeps unhurt. 2. He is with them by his Spirit to comfort them ivhile in the waters. Whence is it that a distressed soul is not swallowed up with overmuch sorrow ? Whence is it that the Christian is enabled to keep his head above the waters, even in their deepest parts, and is not overwhelmed by the severity and dura- tion of his trouble ? It is not philosophy that can do this ; its consolations are both few and small, and however they may please the speculator, cannot stand the test of experience. It WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 421 is religion which alone can support the soul in the day of gi'eat calamity. Sense cannot do this. To sense all ground of com- fort fails ; when employed, it rather distracts than quiets, rather terrifies than consoles ; it is faith " which is the evi- dence of things not seen." This enables the soul to regard the promise, " I will be with thee," as faithful ; to realize God as present, and to rejoice in him. This is what enables souls, not only to be patient, but joyful in tribulation ; not only to sub- mit, but to be cheerful when all things seem to be against them. "WTiat, but the presence of God with David, could make him sing so sweetly on the mountains of Judah ? what, but this, could make Paul and Silas sing praise when their feet were in the stocks? This enabled the Hebrews to " take joyfully the spoiling of their goods, knowing that they had in heaven a more enduring substance." This enabled Peter and John to " rejoice that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the sake of Christ." This enabled the apostle to say, " most gladly there- fore will I rather glory in mine infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake, for when I am weak, then am I strong." This, in fine, has enabled many saints to triumph at the gibbet, and to slug at the stake. Now, whence all this joy and consolation in the midst of the waters, but from the Spirit of God, whose work it is in the soul " to comfort the saints in all those tribulations wherewith they are afilicted ? " And when we see them so patient, yea, so joyful, can we for- bear saying, " surely the Lord is with them ?" 3. He is Avith them hj his Messing to sanctify the ivaters of affliction unto them. Though the name of the waters be IMarah, yet he often, as we have seen, casts in his blessing, and the waters are made sweet. Afiiiction is of itself, of a destructive tendency ; it is the consequence of sin, and has a tendency, in some of its forms, to destroy the body, and in others of them, to ruin the soul. But since God is present with the saints, it has no capacity to ruin. The swelling waters purify the believer. 422 god's presence but cannot destroy him, tliey fit him for heaven, but cannot prevent his progress to it. Now, whence is this ? Their Lord descended into the Avaters before them, and he took out the curse. They are not therefore deadly, but purifying ; not ruinous, but restorative to the spiritual constitution. Besides, they are made to flow in a new channel, in the channel of new covenant love, and not of legal -vvrath. Hence they are promised blessings, and bequeathed goods to the believer. Promised blessings; "if his children forsake my law, and walk not in my judgments, if they break my statutes, and keep not my commandments, then will I visit their transgressions Avith the rod, and their iniquity with stripes." They are, moreover, bequeathed goods : " All things are yours, whether Paul or ApoUos or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things pre- sent, or things to come, all things are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." If they deserve still to be called evils, they are sanctified or harmless evils; harmless, "for they cannot separate from the love of God, which is in Christ ;" sanctified, " for all things work together for good to them that love God." What a pregnant promise, then, is the promise of the text ? Do the rivers, indeed, overflow those with whom God is px*escnt ? No ; they operate a contrary efi'ect, " it is good for me that I have been afilicted ; " and many besides David, have, instead of suffering by afiliction, come up out of the waters, " like flocks of sheep which go up from the washing." 4. He is Avith his people hy his power to strengthen them to pass through the ivaters. The Lord " knows our frame, he re- membereth that we are dust." A little afiliction would exhaust the believer's strength ; how then could they endure so great a fight of affliction, as that which is often their lot ? " If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, then, how canst thou contend Avith horses ? and if in the land of peace they Avcaried thee, then, how Avilt thou do in the swell- ings of Jordan ? " A little tribulation Avould discourage us, a little trial prove too heavy for us, a little temptation carry us down before it. Whence is it, then, that a believer's heart WITH HIS PEOPLE IN AFFLICTION. 428 does not always fail him, and that he still holds on his way ? Wlience is it that he withstands in the evil day, and having done all, stands ?" It is not owing to himself, " the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." He cannot do the things that he would. It is owing to the presence of his God. By his presence he puts strength into him. " He gives power to the weak, and to him that has no might, he increaseth strength." He is himself " the strength of his heart ;" and thus strength- ened by him, " he walks up and down in the name of the Lord." He performs duty, endures trial, and suffers affliction, because " God strengthens him out of Zion, and perfects strength in his weakness." Though thou art weak, and the current of affliction strong ; though thou art faint, and the river of trouble broad ; " yet the people that know their God, shall be strong and do exploits ;" and thou, as well as others, shall be enabled "to go from strength to strength, until thou appearest before God in Zion." Cry then unto him, '■ The Lord hear thee in the day of trouble ; the name of the God of Jacob, defend thee, — send thee help from the sanctuary, and strengthen thee out of Zion." 5. He will be with them hj his grace to deliver them from the waters. They cannot deliver themselves. But they are not therefore lost in the deep waters. Their God dehvers them. " This poor man cried, the Lord heard and delivered him from all his troubles." Deliverance comes not always, to their apprehension, soon ; but it comes in due season ; it never comes too late. Before he send them deliverance, they may be in great straits. " Our hope," they may be saying, " is lost, and we are cut off for our parts." But the time of extremity is the time of his opportunity to help. In the most unex- pected moment, and in the most surprising manner, he appears for their deliverance % so singular is it, that they can sometimes scarcely credit it, and are like men that dream. He does not always deliver them from every river into which they enter. He permits some one or other of them, to carry them down the stream till they reach the waters of Jordan. But from 424 god's presence with his people, etc. this he delivers them ; for he sulFers them not to be destroyed. He gives them victory over death, and by means of this deliverance, sets them free from all their troubles. Thus, " though many are the afflictions of the righteous, yet the Lord delivers them out of them all." They come, at length, " out of great tribulation," and " are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple ; and he that sits on the throne, dwells among them ; they hunger no more, nor thirst any more ; the sun lights not on them, nor any heat ; for the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne, feeds them and leads them to living fountains of waters : and God wipes away all tears from their eyes." Then when they are with God, they know, in the fullest manner, that " God was with them," and see that this was the reason why, " when passing through the waters, the rivers did not overflow them." THE COMPANY AND CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 425 # XVII. THE COMPANY AND CONVERSATION ON TABOR. Luke ix. 30, 31 — " And, behold, there talked with him two men, which were Moses and EUas ; who appeared in glory, and spake of liis decease which he should accompHsh at Jerusalem." The text introduces us to a company of very celebrated characters, assembled together in very extraordinary circum- stances, and engaged in close conversation on a most important and interesting subject. I shall, therefore, in discoursing on it, fii'st survey the company assembled ; secondly, consider the circumstances of the meeting ; and thirdly, and chiefly, direct your attention to the great topic of their discourse. I. Let us begin with surveying the co^mpany. With this view, let us first consider Avho they were ; secondly, what their relation to one another ; and thirdly, what share they took in the conversation? 1. Let us consider who were the 2)ersons assembled together on this occasion. The company Avas small, but it was select. It consisted only of six persons ; but all of them of eminent rank, and of great celebiuty in the church. And he must be a stranger indeed in Jerusalem, who is not satisfied, at the mention of their names, that there never Avas such another assembly, so august and dignified, met on one spot on earth. It consisted, not indeed of worldly princes and nobles, of philosophers, orators, or conquerors. Such an assembly, in the eyes of an enlightened man, Avould have been mean compared with this. For, observe who were here. Here Avas Christ, the Son of the blessed, the glory of heaven, and the delight of the 426 THE COMPANY AND church. Here was Moses, the meekest of men, the greatest of the prophets, and the famed lawgiver, of the Jewish nation. Here was Elias, a man, of all others, the most zealous for the Lord of Hosts, and the gi'eat reformer of Israel. Here were Peter, John, and James, three of the twelve chosen companions of the abased Redeemer, and of the first ambassadors of the risen Redeemer to the nations ; Peter, the heroic and zealous apostle; John, the beloved disciple; and James, a son of thunder, who, first of the twelve, sealed his testimony ^ath his blood. In this small and select company, there was a singular com- bination of characters. For here we find deputies, if I may so speak, from the church triumphant in heaven, and from the church militant on earth ; from the general assembly and church of the first born on high, in the persons of Moses and Elias, who came fi'om that blessed region vdth the express design of holding this interview ; and from the little flock of Christ on earth, in the persons of Peter, John, and James, who were selected by our Lord from his disciples, to be "s\'itnesses of what passed on this solemn occasion ; and, besides, here we find Jesus, the great representative of the universal church, the head of the body, the church, by whom things in heaven and things in earth are reconciled to God and to one another. The Old Testament church appears here, represented by Moses and Elias, two of her most eminent members ; the New Testament church appears here, represented by Peter, John, and James, three of her most eminent founders ; and Jesus Christ appears in the midst of them, the centre of union between both, " the chief corner stone, in whom all the building, fitly framed together, groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord." In this company Ave see the law and the gospel met ; the law in Moses the giver, and in Elias the restorer of the law ; the gospel in Peter, John, and James, three of its Gist, and most eminent preachers ; while Jesus Christ is present in whom they har- monize, who is the fulfiller and magnifier of the law, and the author, publisher, and subject of the gospel. In this company human nature is seen in its three most glorious forms ; first. CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 427 in Peter, John, and James, men wlio were still sinners indeed, but were in part sanctified by gi'ace ; secondly, in Moses and Elias, men wlio, indeed, were once sinners, but were now per- fected in holiness, and glorified ; and thirdly, in the man Christ Jesus, who knew no sin, and in whom human nature was united personally with the Godhead. In fine, here was Moses, a man who died indeed, but without sickness, and whose body was bm-ied, but not by men. Here was Elias, a man who never died, but was translated bodily to heaven. Here was Christ, one who was to die, but not to see corruption in the gi-ave ; who was to rise within three days, and become the first fruits of them that slept. And here were Peter, John, and James, who were to die, two of them a violent, one of them a natural, death, and see corruption in the grave. What a singular assemblage of characters, all of them eminent ! How important must have been the occasion of then- meeting ! and how deeply interest- ing the subject of their discourse. 2. Let us consider the relation in ivhich they stood to one another. It was not a promiscuous meeting of persons, without knoAvledge of, or regard for, one another, thrown together by accident. It was a select meeting of friends, well known, and dearly beloved by one another, held by special appoint- ment, and for a purpose worthy of all concerned. The parties were previously acquainted with, and attached to, one another. With regard to the three disciples, there can be no doubt. They were, iit least two of them for certain, relations by the flesh ; they were all three partners in trade before their conversion ; they were converted to Christ on the same day, and had followed him since in company as disciples and apostles. Theirs, therefore, was a happy union ; relations by nature were become relations by grace ; partners in trade were become associates in foith and in apostleship ; then* acquaintance was become more intimate, their hearts were knit together by the tenderest and most endearing ties. With regard to Moses and Elias, there can be as little doubt of their acquaintance and friendship. They lived indeed on 428 THE COMPANY AND earth in very different ages ; but they had resided akeady more than nine hundred years in heaven together ; and during so long a residence in that blessed region of light and love, must have had much sweet intercourse and communion. For it is not in the church above as in the church below. Here the followers of Christ may be utterly unknown to one another, or though not unacquainted, may have little christian inter- course, partly through worldly avocations, and partly through difference of sentiment, or strange alienations of affection. But in heaven there is nothing to interrupt correspondence, nothing to alienate the heart. " There is nothing to hurt," much less to destroy, " in all God's holy mountain." Heaven is the region of perfect peace and perfect love ; all heads are united in sentiment, and one heart and one soul pervade the whole blessed company. With regard to Christ, we may use his own words, and say, " I know my sheep and am known of mine." His people, both on earth and in heaven are under his eye, and in his heart. He knew from the beginning all whom the Father had given him ; he " loved them with an everlasting love, and therefore, with loving-kindness, he drew them" by his Spirit to himself Avhen he called them by his grace, and in due time takes them to heaven where he dwells, that they may behold his glory. And as for them, could they be ignorant of Christ ? Can a man be a saint on earth, or an inhabitant of heaven, who is a stranger to Christ, " the only way to the Father," or who loves not him from whose grace all his salvation proceeds ? Impossible ! Moses and Elias knew not Christ, as Peter, James, and John did ; it was not permitted any of the ancient prophets or great men, to see him and hear him in the flesh. But they were not therefore stran- gers to him. They had seen his day afar off by faith. Many a blessed interview had they had with him in peculiar mani- festations, and much had they spoken of him. And since they went to heaven, they knew better the meaning of their own prophecies, and better the import of that law for which they were so zealous, in its relation to Christ, than they ever did CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 429 on earth. On earth they saw darkly ; in heaven, face to foce ; and their love of Christ became perfected with their know- ledge of him. In fine, as they were known of Christ, and knew him, so they were not ignorant of one another. Had the disciples, think you, no knowledge of Moses and Elias, of whom they had so often read in their Bibles, and by what is recorded by them and of them, they had been so often edified ? Or can we suppose, that such an event as the calling of these disciples, and Jesus' choice of them to the apostleship, was unknown in heaven, and untalked of among that blessed company, when Moses and Elias came down to this interview? Saints in heaven and saints on earth reside in states so diffe- rent that we cannot sujipose a particular acquaintance ; but one spmt animates both, and there is a real fellowship and communion between them, for the apostle to the Hebrews says, " ye are come to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to the spirits of just men made perfect." It must not be forgotten, however, that though this little company were previously acquainted, and were dear friends, yet that there was a vast disproportion amongst them in respect of eminence and dignity. The diflTerence between Moses and Elias on the one hand, and the three disciples on the other, is not indeed so great ; yet it is not to be altogether over- looked. Had we been to compare the disciples with these great men when they were on earth, we might have given the preference to the disciples. For great as they were, John Baptist was above them in respect of pi'ivilege ; and yet " the least in the kingdom of heaven," in the New Testament church, " is greater than he." But at present they were in heaven, while the disciples were yet on earth ; and who can doubt that they were now in a higher and more exalted state ; jiossessed of much superior knowledge, holiness and blessedness, enjoy- ing more immediate access to the fountain of life ; and more intimate fellowship Avith him, and perfect freedom from all those infirmities which cleave to saints in this lower world ? In 430 THE COMPANY AND the main article however, they were on a level ; they were creatures formed by the power and saved by the grace of Christ; brethren, the children of the same family of the redeemed, though residing in different compartments of their Father's house. But when we speak of Christ, they all stand at an infinite distance fi-om him, " for in all things he has the pre- eminence." "What is Moses or Elias or the apostles in com- parison of him, who, as God, gave them their being, and as the Saviour, gave them their well-being ; whose Spirit inspired the one to prophesy, and the other to preach of him, and whose grace made them to differ ? "Were they brethren ? Jesus was '* the elder brother," " the first born among many brethren." Were they faithful in the stations in which they were placed ? Faithful indeed they were as servants in God's house, but he was faithful " as a Son over his own house ; whose house" all saints are. But it is unnecessary to enumerate instances of Christ's superiority, for this company themselves owned him as their Lord, and worshipped him. Yet great as he was, he condescended to talk familiarly with them. His glory is above the heavens, yet he condescends " to behold the things that are in heaven, and on the earth," and to converse as a friend with his people, not only in the state of glory, but in the state of imperfection. 3. Let us consider the share which they severally took in Hie conversation. Of the three disciples little need be said. The subject of conversation, the death of Christ, was a subject on which their knowledge was very circumscribed, and of which, from their love to him, misguided by the prejudices of a Jewish education, they were very averse to think. ^They were ill qualified, therefore, to bear any part in such a conversation, and must rather be considered as spectators of the scene, and as composing the audience, than speakers in the dialogue that took place. Yea, we can scarcely call them even this. For the glory of the whole scene seems not only to have dazzled their eyes, but to have confounded their minds. Nature over- powered was ready to sink into sleep ; and feai* and confusion CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 431 of mind occasioned, that in the only attempt which Peter made to speak, he spake quite beside the pui'pose : " For he wist not what he said." The conversation must be considered, therefore, as taking place between Moses and Elias and our Lord ; but in what manner the conversation was conducted, it would be presumptuous in me to say. Our Lord could receive no information from Moses and Elias, though they were immediately arrived from heaven, respecting the design, circumstances, or consequences of his death. For all these things were fi-om the beginning well known to him, better knowTi by him than they were by angels and saints in heaven, whose knowledge was only by revelation, and in that measure which their great Lord thought fit to communicate. But Bloses and Elias might, and certainly did, receive in the course of this conversation much information from Christ. Would it then be presuming too far to say that Christ bare the chief part in this extraordinary dialogue ? that Moses and Elias, venerating the presence of their great Lord, would observe the rule of Solomon, " Let thy words be few ;" that they would rather modestly inquire for information concern- ing the decease which he was to accomplish, than presume to give their own sentiments, and that in the course of it they would receive much instruction respecting the meaning of the ancient laAv and prophecies, which would animate their o^Yn praises, and diifuse new wonder and joy among the blessed in heaven on their return to their assembly ? But let us not " intrude into things which we have not seen, vainly puffed up in our fleshly minds ; " but rather go on to the n. Part of the method, namely, to consider the circum- stances OF THIS JEEETiKG. There are a variety of these circumstances on which I might profitably discourse, but which at present I must pass over, that I may leave myself time to speak on the third part of the subject. There is first the time of this interview, which was about a week after our Lord began to speak more particularly to his disciples con- 432 THE COMPANY AND cerning his sufferings and death than heretofore, and about a year before he accomplished his decease at Jerusalem. There is, secondly, the place of this interview ; " an high mountain apart" from the bustle of the world, and the intrusion of men, which is generally thought to have been Mount Tabor. There is, thirdly, the frame of Jesus and his disciples when it took place ; they had been engaged in prayer immediately before. There is, fourthly, the design of this interview; which may be considered as for the honour of Christ, the confirma- tion of his disciples in the faith, and the spiritual joy of the redeemed in heaven. The illustration of these I pass over, and only remark fifthly, the glory of the interlocutors ; first, the glory of Moses and Elias; and secondly, the glory of Jesus who conversed \\'ith them. 1. The glory of Moses and Elias. These two eminent servants of God had long since gone to heaven, a glorious place ; had passed into a gloriou s state, and j oined a glorious and blessed com- pany. When they now appeared, it is said, that " they appeared in glory; " they brought the glory in which they shone in heaven down to the top of Tabor with them; and when they conversed with their Lord, for his greater honour, met him in their best attire. How could it be otherwise than that they should thus appear? Moses when on earth had been forty days on the mount with God, and this divine intercourse produced such effects on him, that after he came down it was observed that his face shone, and with such brightness, that it was necessary for him for some time, to wear a veil when he conversed with the multi- tude. And if a man, yet in the state of imperfection, became •so glorious by such an interview, what must a residence of fourteen hundred years in the immediate presence of God, and the beatific vision of him have produced ? If Elias was carried up into heaven in a chariot of fii*e, drawn by horses of fire, are we not to conclude that the glory of Elias in heaven must be gi'eat, who had so glorious an introduction into it ? These two men "appeared in glory," their external figure and appear- ance corresponded with their state, and the occasion of their CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 433 manifestation. It is of the glory of their bodies that the evan- gelist speaks ; for that Elias appeared in his own glorified body we can have no doubt, as he took his body with him to heaven. "With respect to Moses, however, the matter is not so clear. Not a few suppose that his body was raised from the dead at that time when, as Jude informs us, "Michael the archangel, and the devil disputed about the body of Moses ;" and others, that it had been raised by the power of Christ, with a view to this meeting, to honour his transfiguration, as afterwards many bodies of saints were raised to honour his resurrection. But, as we may equally suppose, that a bodily figure was assumed by him on this occasion, as often happened of old to angels when they conversed Avith the patriarchs, I assert nothing, but choose rather to say of Moses in the pre- sent case, as Paul afterwards said of himself, " Whether in the body, or out of the body, I cannot tell, God knoweth." I only add, that the glory in which Moses and Elias appeared, may be considered as a sample of what the spirits of just men now enjoy in heaven, and of what all saints shall be when Grod our Saviour " shall change our vile bodies, and fashion them like unto his own glorious body," and when " Ave shall be like him, for Ave shall see him as he is." 2. The glorij of Jesus during this interview. At this time he was in that state of humiliation in which he had noAA^ continued for two and thirty years, concerning which, it is said, that " he emptied himself, took on himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of sinful flesh." His glory was veiled, was obscured by his condition. He had been educated in obscurity, had laboured at a manual occupa- tion, traA'clled the country as a poor man on foot Avithout splendour, and as the prophet speaks, " his A'isage was more marred than any man, and his form than the sons of men." But, as often in the dark and cloudy day, the sun bursts through for a feAv moments ; so in the midst of Jesus' humilia- tion there Avas this one lucid moment in AA'hich his glory is displayed before a few chosen friends for their confirmation, x 434 THE COMPANY AND and his OAvn encouragement in liis great and arduous work. " As he prayed," it is said, " the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistering ;" or, as it is expressed by Matthew, " he was transfigured before them, and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light." He was not yet received up into glory ; this honour Avas reserved for the human nature of Christ, as the reward of the sufferings which he was to endure ; but on this singular occasion, glory came down from heaven to the humbled Saviour, as a token of his Father's approbation of his diligence and fidelity in his work, as a foretaste of the honour and glory with which he would be crowned, when he had finished the work which the Father had given him to do, and as a speci- men to the disciples and to us of the honour which he now enjoys in his exalted state, in which " he is set down at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens." III. Let us now attend to the topic of discourse on this oc- casion. "They spake of his decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." A singular toi^ic of discourse, it will be said, for such an occasion. Who would choose at a feast to entertain his friends Avith a narration of his sufferings, and of his expected time and manner of dying ? It would damp the flow of their spii'its. Who dwells in his conversation on the number of the wounded and slain, when he is celebrating a victory with re- joicing ? It would turn the joy into mourning. Yet Christ finds no fitter subject of conversation in the presence of his disciples and with two chosen friends from his Father's house, than the painful, the ignominious, the cursed death which he was to suffer without the gates of Jerusalem. The choice of the subject was doubtless left entirely with himself. Why did he not rather talk of the glory that should follow, than of the decease which should go before ? This seemed suitable to the occasion. A specimen of it was before him, not only in Moses and Elias who appeared in glory, but in the glory with which he himself was now surrounded ; and it might naturally CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 435 have been introduced into conversation by talking of what had that instant taken place. Besides, it would have been a sub- ject much to the taste of Peter, James, and John. But to pass over other reasons, which will more naturally come into view afterwards, this was one reason for talking of his decease rather than of his glory, that the glory of Christ was too much in the mind of these disciples, and his decease too little relished by them. He wished to familiarise their minds with the subject of his death ; and to teach them, by his talking of it even on the mount of transfiguration, to rest assured of the event, and not to be staggered in the faith of him when it should take place. Another reason may be here assigned, that our Lord's mind was more engaged in thinking of the death by which he should glorify God, than about the glory which he should receive after it. He preferred our salvation to his own gloiy, and was more zealous to accomplish the one, than to obtain the other. On this occasion, therefore, the conversa- tion turned " on the decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." I do not propose, on this part of the subject, to speak to you myself of the decease Avhich Christ has accomplished at Jeru- salem. The text leads me rather to consider the conversation of Moses, Elias, and our Lord on this subject, and as it is not recorded what they spake on the subject, I shall not entertain you with any account of what they might have said on it, but rather, considering this in general as the topic of discourse, present you with some important conclusions from the fact. And, 1. We must conclude that the decease which Christ Avas to accomplish at Jerusalem, was an event well known to the coimpany as what was certainli/ to happen. Had it been what some per- sons have presumed to style it, an incidental event, which might or might not happen, it is not to be supposed that it would now have been the subject of conversation a year before it happened, and long before the Jewish rulers had either resolved on it or foi-med any plan to effect it. But the event, though future, 43G THE COMPANY AND and not yet determined on by men, was certain and well known in heaven. When men " by -vNacked hands crucified and slew the Lord Jesus," they only fulfilled " the purpose of God," by whose " determinate counsel and foreknowledge he was delivered" into their hands. Nor was Christ himself taken by surprise ; " he knew from the beginning what death he should die," and " Avho should betray him." He was fully apprised when " he engaged his heart to approach unto God" as the Surety of sinners, how much his undertaking would (^ost him ; and therefore, by his Si^irit speaking in the pro- phets, " he testified beforehand his suflTerings" on earth, as well "the glory that should follow ;" and often to his disciples he spake on the same subject, and especially within the last eight days he shewed them " that he must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things, and be rejected of the elders, and chief ])i'icsts, and scribes, and be slain, and be raised the third day." Gn the other hand, the death of Christ was not new to Moses and Elias when they entered on this conversation. They had heard of it before ; for what was the meaning of the ceremonies of Moses, and what the burden of all the prophecies ? The one prefigured, and the other predicted the death of Christ. When on earth they must have had very imperfect knowledge of the meaning of the law and the prophets. But could they be ignorant of it in heaven ? It had been long known there that " Messiah was to be cut off, but not for himself;" that he was " to bear the iniquities of his people," and by his death " make reconciliation for iniquity." The late events which had taken jjlacc, must have made much noise in heaven; have been often talked of and highly celebrated. His conception in the womb of Mary, his birth at Bethlehem, his flight into Egyi^t, his temptation in the wilderness, his baptism in Jordan, and the like, were well known ; for angels ministered on these occasions on earth, and would doubtless report to the spirits above, ever eager to receive information respecting the Son of God and Saviour of men ; and can we suppose the great event unknoA^ni to which all these things led, " the CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 4J7 decease lie was to accomplisli at Jerusalem ?" The conversa- tion, therefore, respected an event wliicli was known certainly to happen. 2. They conversed on an event of the greatest magnitude and importance. It is not to be supposed that, when such persons met by express appointment, some from the glory of heaven, and others from the abode of mortals, the conversation could turn on any subject that was of a trilling and unimportant nature. And what subject can be conceived, I say not of greater, but of equal magnitude, with the decease which Christ was to accomplish at Jerusalem ? Battles, conflagi-ations, earthquakes, revolutions, are great events in the eyes of mor- tals ; but what are they to the crucifixion of the Lord of Glory, the murder of the Prince of life, the sacrifice of the Lamb of God, the fall of the Captain of salvation, who " was made perfect through sufferings ? " Had it not been a gi-eat event, would the Spirit of inspiration in every age from the creation of the world, have been giving notices and intimations of it V Had it not been great, would such scenes have taken place when it happened ? When he died, the earth quaked, the rocks were rent, the sun was darkened, the graves Avere opened. Doubt- less, a prince and a great man then fell in Israel, that nature was so convulsed. Say not, what was there so great in the death of Christ ; for to doubt, is to betray ignorance of the grossest kind. The fact itself, that " the holy One and the just" was killed, that the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, was shed, that the best friend and kindest benefactor of mankind was betrayed, condemned, insulted, crucified between two thieves, is itself astonishing. And if for a moment we con- template the necessity of this event, the design of it, and the consequences of it, its magnitude and importance must strike us in the most forcible manner. The decease of Christ was necessary to fulfil the counsels of God, to accomplish the pro- phecies of Scripture, to illustrate and give meaning to the types, to satisfy the desires, and not disappoint the hopes of the church. Where would have been the divine glory, and 438 THE COMPANY AND where the hope of man, if Christ had not died ? To his death the law looked for being magnified and made honourable, the divine perfections for being glorified in the highest, and man for being saved to the uttermost. By his death transgression Avas to be finished, justice to be satisfied, hell to be confounded and conquered, heaven to be opened, and the divine glory to be made gi-eat in our salvation. By his death the greatest of all works was to be finished, the work of redemption ; the gi'eatest of aU sacrifices was to be offered, the sacrifice of the incai'nate Son of God for the sins of the whole world ; the gi-eatest of all victories was to be gained, the triumph of the seed of the woman over the whole power of hell ; the greatest of all revolutions to be effected, the overthrow of the kingdom of darkness, and the establishment of the king- dom of God's dear Son. "Was it not in every point of view a great and important event ? Can we think lightly of it ? or can we be surprised that this occupied the conversation of the great Sufferer himself, and his two friends on this memorable occasion ? Doubtless, it was worthy of the occasion and the company. It is fit to be talked of in heaven as well as on earth ; will be eternally the subject of conversation in the region of light and joy; and ought to be talked of by us more fre- quently than it is, both in the church and in our houses at liome. 3. They conversed on an event in which all present were deeply interested. The decease of Christ was not an abstract speculation, nor an event in which, however great, they had little concern. It came home to their business and bosoms, and could not be a matter of indifference to any of the company. As for our Lord Jesus himself, the thing is obvious. What can interest any person more deeply than his OAvn death, the time, manner, and consequences of it ? The man is stupid and incon- siderate to a strange degree, who can look on these things as matters of no moment. Our Lord Jesus had these things ever on his mind, and in his heart. His great concern on earth was to live well, and die well ; to be constantly " about his Father's business," and " to finish his work." His death was ever CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 439 present to his mind, not as an object of terror, as it is to some persons, *' avIio through fear of death are all their lifetime subject to bondage," but as an object of serious and solemn concern, that thereby he might glorify God, and accomplisli the salvation of his people. It was not so much, Ave may believe, how he would be able to bear the treachery of Judas, the denial of Peter, the cowardice of his disciples, the curses of the multitude, the malice of the priests, the rude insults of the soldiers, the scourge, the thorns, the vinegar and gall, the nails, the spear, the shame of the accursed tree, — these were comparatively small things ; but how he would sustain the immense burden of his Father's wrath, and drink the bitter cup of the divine indignation ; how he should be faithful, in such circumstances, to his covenant engagements; how baffle all the craft and all the power of hell ; how glorify the divine perfections by his obedience unto death ; how redeem his people by his blood ; and how merit for himself the joy and glory which were set before him. AVe need not wonder then, that, in these circumstances, the decease he was to ac- complish at Jerusalem, should have been the subject of his discourse. But was it an event which interested the rest of the company? Doubtless. The whole church, whether in heaven or on earth, whether under the Old Testament or the New, has the deepest interest in the death of Christ. It was for their sakes that he " sanctiiied himself;" he devoted himself to death as the ransom of theu' souls, that he might purchase and re- deem them by his blood as the offering and sacrifice for sin, that he might expiate their guilt. On the event of Jesus' death depended the most interesting of all questions ; shall man be saved from sin, or perish miserably without hope ? shall the captives be delivered, the slaves made free; or Satan triumph, and the recovery of man be for ever frustrated ? What topic, then, could be more interesting than the decease which Chi-ist was to accomplish at Jerusalem ? To this the ancient church looked fonvard, and lived and died in the faith of it. To this the New Testament church look back, and de- 440 THE COMPANY AND pend on the efficacy of it for salvation. Whence all the hope, the consolation, and joy of saints on earth ? It flows from the death of Christ. '\\Tience the joy of saints in heaven, but from the same source ? Though Peter, John, and James had already believed, and were justified, yet God accepted them on the credit of what Christ was to do and suffer : on this also depended their perseverance in grace, and their admission at death into heaven. Though Moses and Elias Avere already glorified, yet it Avas through the expected death of Christ that they enjoyed this privilege ; this, when it should be accom- plished, would be the confirmation of their happiness, and the gi-eat source of their everlasting joy and praise. The sub- ject of conversation, then, was well chosen. It was what all present had, in their several ways, the deepest interest in, and could not but engage their attention and affections. Our in- terest in it is not inferior, and it ought to be much in our thoughts and lips. 4. They conversed on a subject liighhj agreeable to the company. I must here except the three disciples, to Avhom the decease of their Master was a very unpleasant subject ; for not further back than eight days before, when our Lord introduced it, " Peter took him and began to rebuke him, sajdug. Be it far from thee. Lord; this shall not be unto thee." But although ignorance, prejudice, and misguided affection rendered the disciples averse to think of the decease of their Master, it was otherwise with Moses and Elias. These glorified men were better instructed in the design, and necessity, and blessed fruits of his decease, than to be able to think of it, or talk of it, without pleasure. In the death of Christ they could see the unspeakable love of God, in giving his only -begotten Son, " that whosoever believeth in him might not perish, but have everlasting life;" and the unspeakable love of Christ, who Avas to " give himself a sacrifice and an offering for a sweet- smelling savour unto God." In the death of Christ they could see the manifold wisdom and unbounded grace of God, tlie vileness of sin, the holiness of the divine nature and law. CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 441 the inviolable faithfulness and inflexible justice of God, life springing out of death, happiness out of misery, honour out of reproach ; " glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, and good will towards men." Must it not have been a pleasant subject of conversation to these glorified men, to talk of that which, most of all events, would redound to the honour of their God, and the glory of their vSaviour ; which would confound hell, and save mankind; which would lay a sure foundation of hope to saints on earth, and be the great security of saints in heaven, and the everlasting matter of the praises of angels and redeemed men ? Yes, certainly, if the love of the Saviour is the sweetest theme to saints on earth, it cannot be less, it must be more delightful in heaven, where the doctrine of his dying love is better known, and the blessed fruits of it reaped in greater abundance. To Christ himself, his decease was a most delightful subject of thought and discourse. Before all worlds, he rejoiced in the event ; " for his delights were with the sons of men." His delight to do the will of his Father made him say, " Lo, I come, in the volume of the book it is written of me," and caused him to come into the world to be a sufferer at the appointed hour. His heart was ever set upon it when he was in the world ; hence his diligence and zeal in his Father's work. Never did the fear of suffering prove a snare to him, to cause him conceal the truth, or decline duty. Never were the counsels of ill-advised friends, " Master, spare thyself," " Lord, be it far from thee," agreeable unto him. Never did the near prospect of sufferings, or the present feeling of them, make him decline duty or repent of his engagements in his people's behalf. Sufferings themselves could not be pleasant to him ; nature could have wished to have been excused from these ; but they were pleasant, as necessary means to accomplish the gi'eat ends of his Father's glory, and his own happiness. For these ends, " he endured the cross, despising the shame." For these ends, he rejoiced in the prospect of sufferings; " I have a baptism to be baptised with ; and how am I straitened, until it be accomplished ! " 442 THE COMPANY AND As the subject of his approaching decease was highly agreeable to Moses and Elias, as well as to Christ, we see why it was chosen, on this occasion, as the subject of discourse. Lastly, They conversed on a subject calculated to he exceedingly profitable to the company, to the disciples, to Moses and Elias, to Christ himself. Pi'ofitable, I say, to the disciples. They understood it so ill that they needed to be instructed ; they were so prejudiced against the idea of it, that they needed to be reconciled to the event, as necessary for the divine glory, the Saviour's exaltation, and the church's redemption. Had they known the subject much better than they did, still it would have been profitable to them. For what is most directly calculated to the establishment of the saints, and their growth in gi'ace ? Meditation and conver- sation on the death of Christ. It is a truly edifying subject. It is calculated to strengthen faith and hope, to animate our love to him who loved us, to increase our hatred to sin which pierced Christ, and our repentance, to reconcile us to the will of God in all his dispensations, and to promote our sanctification. The more the death of Christ is in our hearts and lips, the more will our graces thrive, and our consolation abound ; and saints can take no method more effectual to impede their own spiritual progress, than to think and speak little on this subject. Profitable too it was to Moses and Elias. For the happiness and joy of the church in heaven is increased, as their knowledge of Christ crucified increases. Why else do angels so eagerly pry into the mysteries of redeeming love, but that they may, seeing more of God in this, praise him with louder anthems ? and whence is it, that it will be the everlasting theme of discourse and praise among the redeemed, but because new discoveries of the wonders of grace in it, furnish them perpetually with new matter of adoration and joy? Profitable, in fine, it was to the Saviour himself, for the preparation of his mind for the event, and for his encouragement to persevere till he finished his work. CONVERSATION ON TABOR. 443 Having detained you so long, permit me to conclude with one observation. It is this. If the death of Christ, before it took place, was reckoned a suitable subject of conversation on the top of Tabor, it must be peculiarly proper, now that it lias happened, to remember it in his own house. It may seem strange for these two saints, Moses and Elias, to have taken such an opportimity to talk of Christ's decease, to talk of Calvary on the top of Tabor; when his head shone with glory, to speak of its bleeding with thorns ; when " his face was bright as the sun," to speak of its being defiled \vith shame and spitting ; when " his garments were white and glistering," to speak of their being stripped from him, and divided ; when he was adored by saints from heaven, of his being reviled by the basest of men ; when he stood between two saints, of his being crucified between two malefactors. But if it was proper even then, how proper must it be for us, " to think of his loving-kindness in the midst of his temple ;" how proper to think and speak of that decease on which all our hopes depend ! Wliat is the express design of this day's meeting ? Is it not to remember his death ; to show it forth, to Commemorate it, in that ordinance which Christ has insti- tuted for this purpose ? On this, then, let our discourse turn, on this let our meditations dwell. It becomes the occasion ; it will be profitable to our souls. Yes ; " We will remember thy love, O Jesus, more than wine ;" " we will meditate on all thy works," and this, thy greatest work, thy decease, shall be first in our thoughts. Grant that, in so doing, our medita- tions may be sweet. Amen. 444 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. XVIII. THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD.' Matthew xvii. 5. — " While he yet spake, behold a bright cloud over- shadowed them, and behold a voice out of the cloud, which said, Tliis is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him." The scene -which the text calls us to contemplate, is extremely different fi'om that which is presented to us in the sacramental supper. The one conducts us to Mount Tabor, where our Lord was transfigured; the other to the Mount of Olives, where he was agonised, and to Mount Calvary, where he was crucified. He appears, in the one case, in deep abasemftit, the object of scorn and contempt, and suffering inconceivable sorrow and pain ; in the other, he appears in majesty, worthy the Son of the Blessed, and " receiving from God the Father honour and glory." There we see him suspended in disgrace between two thieves, but here conversing, in robes of light, with two prophets. There the sun was obscured, it became dark at noon ; here the very clouds became luminous, and shed a radiance around him far surpassing the splendour of tlie meri- dian sun. There his fivce Avas defiled with shame and spitting, and his garments were parted amongst rude soldiers ; but here " his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light." There he suffered the punishment of slaves, here he tasted the delights of angels. ' A few illustrations in this discourse have been suggested to the author by Du Bosc, torn. vi. s. 5, p. 185. — Ed. THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. 445 But the two scenes, though Avidely diiferent, are intimately connected. The conversation on the holy mount, was calcu- Lated to prepare the disciples for the decease of Jesus, which was its great topic. The glory in which they saw their Lord now ai'rayed, was intended to prevent their offence at the dis- gi'ace which he was soon to suffer ; and the voice which they now heard, proceeding from the excellent glory, was intended to assure them that he enjoyed, notwithstanding his sufferings, the fullest approbation of his Father, and that, however he should be maltreated by the world, it was their interest to receive his doctrine, and their safety to rely on his mediation. Let us, then, this day, visit Tabor before we go to Gethse- mane and Calvary. Let us here learn the excellence and dignity of Jesus, before we go to behold him suspended for cm' sakes on the accursed tree. "We shall thus be satisfied how worthy his death is to be remembei-ed, and how fit he is to be entrusted with our salvation. The scene has a gi*andeur which claims our admiration. The sun blazes in Jesus' face. Light issues from his mean apparel. Tavo blessed saints stand in glory by his side. A luminous cloud spreads a i*adiant canopy over his head. Yea, the throne of the divine majesty is erected amidst the aerial splendour, and God the Father proclaims from it these ever memorable Avords, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am pleased ; hear ye him." Hoav important and how solemn the proclamation ! Tlie preacher to-day, brethren, is in a peculiar sense, God the Father. From his throne, in the bright cloud, he addresses this assembly ; to each of us he preaches, as he did of old to the three disciples, the everlasting gospel, and directing our attention to Jesus of Nazareth, says, " This, this is ray beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him." And if on CA-ery occasion, when the gospel is preached, we should be all attention and reverence, surely it is peculiarly incumbent on us at present to say, " I will hear Avhat God the Lord will speak ; for he will speak peace unto his people, and to his saints." Let us do two things : let us first contemplate the cloud out 4-16 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. of which the voice of God proceeds ; and let us, secondly, listen to the testimony which the voice gives concerning Christ. Did time permit, I might also speak of the edict which it issued respecting our duty towards him ; " hear ye him." I. My observations on the first part of the subject shall respect, first, the cloud itself; secondly, its brightness ; thirdly, its overshadowing the company ; and, fourthly, the voice which issued out of it. 1. Of the CLOUD itself, what shall I say ? A philosophical theory of the formation of the clouds, though I were capable to give it, would be alike unsuitable to the place and the occa- sion. It would be more proper to speak of the almighty power of that God "who covers the heavens with clouds," and of his all-perfect knowledge who regulates " the balancings of the clouds," and collects or scatters them at his pleasure. The clouds give a sublime demonstration of the power of God to punish his enemies, and to protect and comfort his people. For what more calculated to insjjire terror into the wicked than " thick clouds of the sky," charged with thunder and lightning, and devouring flames Avhich, at the divine command- ment, are launched forth for their destruction ? Or what more fitted to inspire the believer with confidence than the clouds, those emblems of the divine beneficence, which now are sjDread over the sky to serve as a protection from the sultry rays of the sun, and now distil refreshing dews and showers to fructify the earth ? Clouds have been employed as emblems of the divine presence. A cloud rested of old on the tabernacle. God spake, at Sinai, out of the cloud when he gave the law ; and when from Tabor he preaches the gospel, the voice issues from the cloud. Hence the psalmist elegantly calls " the clouds bis chariot," because they are the vehicle in which Jehovah chooses ordinarily to make his approach, when he means to converse with men, and in the awful grandeur of which he at once displays and hides his glory. They seem like the chariots THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. 447 of tlie eternal King, in waiting at tlie gates of his palace, to convey him down from the highest heavens, where his throne is estabhshed of old, to the habitations of mortals. That this cloud was the emblem of the divine presence is, I think, apparent from the text. And why he made a cloud his pavilion on this and similar occasions, is not difficult to deter- mine. To omit other reasons, it was to convey to us two most instructive lessons : to assure us that his essence is in- visible, and incomprehensible ; invisible by our eyes, and in- comprehensible by our minds. " Clouds and darkness," says the psalmist, " are round about him." " The blessed and only Potentate," says Paul, " dwelleth in the light which no man can approach unto ; whom no man hath seen, nor can see." And the clouds, surrounded with which he descends, are evi- dences of these truths. Of this we have a striking proof in the case of Moses. For this great prophet having besought God to " show him his glory," and God having by his answer informed him that the wish was rash and impossible to be gratified, God afterwards approached him in a cloud, as the utmost that could be enjoyed ; " covering him," as it is ex- pressed, " with his hand, as his glory passed by, and showing him his back parts, because his face could not be seen." Every thing in God is, if I may so speak, involved in clouds ; his nature, his decrees, his dispensations. His nature, for " who can by searching find him out," or what man " hath seen God at any time ? " His decrees, " for how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out !" His dispensations, both of providence and of grace, for they are denominated mysterious, and can only be imperfectly known. God is indeed " a God that hideth himself," and who " keepeth back the face of his throne." " He hath said that he would dweU in the thick darkness." It is with him, as with that glorious emblem of his majesty, the sun. We cannot look at that luminary when he shineth in his strength. His light is so radiant and dazzling, that no eye can sustain it, and blindness is the punishment of those who make the rash attempt. "We can only view him 448 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. through the clouds on which he paints his image. Now, our God is, in this respect, a sun of excessive and incompi'ehensible splendour. Angels, themselves, cannot behold him unveiled ; they must " cover their faces with their wings," to enable them to support the radiance of his glory. And must not a cloud be necessary when men are called to behold ? for " no man can see his face and live." "We must see through the cloud, that is, through his word and his works, and learn to adore and serve him whom we cannot comprehend. But 2. The brightness of this cloud is no inconsiderable circum- stance, and deserves some portion of our regard. When God proclaimed the law to Israel from the top of Sinai, his voice proceeded out of a cloud that was terrifyingly black, and loaded with vapours which seemed to portend a destructive storm ; but when he published the gospel, the cloud out of which the voice proceeded which announced the good news of peace and reconciliation, was bright and resplendent. The clouds were emblematical of the nature of the two dispensations. The aspect of Sinai, which " burnt with fire, and which smoked like a furnace," is no obscure picture of that dispensation which involved all in darkness, and inspired terror. The aspect of Tabor, on the contrary, which shone Avith radiance, corre- sponds ■with the dispensation of the gospel, where all is luminous, and which inspires confidence and filial boldness. For Chris- tians, as the apostle assures us, are " not come to the mount which burned with fire, nor unto blackness, and darkness and tempest, but they are come to Mount Zion, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel." See how black the cloud which hangs over Sinai ! Nothing under that dis- pensation could be distinctly seen. The veil of prophecy, through which the eye could scarcely pierce, concealed evan- gelical truths from view. The threatenings and curses of the law, like the loud thunders, prevented the words of grace which were spoken from being distinctly heard. The smoke of sacrifices and clouds of incense intervened and hid that THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. 440 Saviour whose atonement and intercession they prefigured. But how bright that cloud which rested on the top of Tabor ! " Life and immortality are brought to light by the gospel." It is permitted us now to " see what many prophets and great men desired to see, and to hear what they desired to hear," and were not permitted. For " we all with open face behold as in a glass the glory of the Lord ;" and the sight banishes terror, inspires holy courage, and assures the believing soul of peace and salvation. Thus we may say with the apostle, " If the ministration of condemnation be glory, much more doth the ministration of righteousness exceed in glory." Yet, even under the gospel, it must be observed, that God still speaks to us out of a cloud. It is a bright cloud, for he is reconciled ; a bright cloud, for the darkness of the former dispensation is dispelled ; but it is still a cloud, for the unclouded brightness of heavenly discoveries is not yet enjoyed. " We know only in part ; " " we see as through a glass darkly ; " God is not seen by us face to face, as he shall be in the splendour of eter- nal day, when the redeemed " shall be like him, for they shall eee him as he is." 3. It is remarked by the evangelist concerning the cloud, that it overshadowed the company. " IVlaile Peter yet spake, behold a bright cloud overshadowed them." This seems to have been done with a double view ; to hide the glory of Christ from the \dew of the disciples, and to vnthdraw Moses and Elias altogether from their sight. But why so speedily spread a veil over the glory of this astonishing spectacle ? Why so soon withdraw the scene from the eyes of those whom Christ took with him to the mount to be witnesses of his glory ? It was high time to do it ; for their understandings had begun to stagger, dazzled with the brightness and oppressed with the glory of the scene. Witness the inconsiderate language of Peter ; he cried out, like one beside himself, " Lord, it is good for us to be here ; let us make three tabernacles, one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias." An unmeaning and absurd speech ; as if Moses and Elias ought to have quitted 450 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. the glory of heaven, where they triumphed with angels, and lodge m miserable tents on a mountain top ; as if tents had been necessary to protect from sun and rain men who were beyond the reach of suiFering, and incapable of sustaining injury fi'om the elements ; as if the Saviour ought to leave his work unfinished ; or as if it would have been good for Jesus to have declined dying for their salvation, or for the world not to have had the gospel preached to them. But " he knew not what he said " when he thus spoke. His head was turned by the unaccustomed lieight to which he was I'aised ; his imagi- nation was deranged by so unusual a scene. It was necessary to Avithdraw the scene that their spirits might settle into com- posure. To see it was necessary, that they might be able to bear witness of it to the world ; but to see it long, was more than they were able to bear. AVliile Peter, therefore, was speaking so incoherently, when he showed that he had seen as much as he could support, a bright cloud overshadowed them ; Moses and Elias were caught up in it to heaven, whence they came, and the glory of Jesus was veiled from their eyes. How necessary is it that the glory of heaven, of which this scene was a ray, be concealed from us in this mortal and imperfect state ! It would overwhelm us. We could think of no other subject ; we would be unfit for performing the duties of this present life. It is a proof of God's wisdom and goodness that he hides from us, by interposing his clouds, the too bright cfi'ulgence of heavenly glory. It is his will that we live by faith and not by sight ; and that we derive our assurance of the existence of things spii'itual and heavenly, not fi-om ocular demonstration, but from the testimony of his word. This we are taught by the mystery of this overshadowing cloud ; for the attention of the disciples is called away from seeing to hearing. The glory retires, but the voice of God is immedi- ately heard ; a voice which explains the meaning of Avhat tliey had seen, and which directs them to Christ as the author of their salvation. 4. Let me now offer a few remai'ks concerning the voice THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. 451 Avhicb issued from tlie cloud, before I speak of the words it uttered. It Avere idle to inquire how this voice was formed in the cloud so as to be distinctly heard and understood. It is enough that it was the voice of God whom all the elements obey, and who can form even the clouds of the sky into fit organs for communicating his will to men. It was the voice of God the Father ; a voice which was never heard that we know of, except on two other occasions besides the present. For though the voice of God was often heard under the Old Testament, we have reason to consider it on these occasions as the voice of God the Son, by whom he revealed his will alike from the top of Sinai, and from between the cherubim. At the baptism of our Lord, however, at his transfiguration now, and soon after, before his passion, the voice of the Father was heard, giving encouragement and bearing testimony to his Son. Yea farther, there is reason to think that on no other occasion besides the present, was the voice of the Father ever directly addressed to men. At the baptism of our Lord, it Avas addressed to him, " Thou art my beloved Son." Before his passion, it was likewise addressed to him, as the ansAver of his prayer, " Father, glorify thy name." " Then," we are told, " came there a A^oice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again." Here, however, the voice is addressed to the three disciples, " This is my beloved Son ; hear ye him." This voice has long since ceased ; yet we still hear it, not issuing indeed from the overshadoAving cloud, and addressed to the three disciples alone, but sounding in the gospel, and addressed to all AA^ho have ears to hear. Let us attend Avhen God speaks ; for " faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God." II. The TESTIAIO^^: which the A'oice of God bears to Christ may properly be considered as consisting of three distinct arti- cles. A diAdne attestation, first, to the dignity of his person ; secondly, to the interest he has in his Father's love ; and thirdly, to his Father's entire approbation of his work ; " this 452 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. is my Son," " this is my beloved Son," " this is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." 1. Let us hear the divine testimony to the dignit!/ of Christ's person. The voice said, " This is my Son." Two other per- sons had been present on the occasion who appeared in glory, and had attracted much of the attention of the disciples. To which of the three do the words refer ? To Moses, to Elias, or to Christ ? Moses and Elias were withdrawn from the view of the disciples before the voice was heard. Of them God says nothing. To them the attention of the disciples had been akeady sufficiently directed. It was time for them to think of Christ, and to consider who he was. The voice, therefore, directs them not to either of the two who had dis- appeared, but to him who was still present before them, and says, " This is my Son." Not Moses, not Elias, these were not the sons of God: but this Jesus of Nazareth, to whom yon have for some time attached yourselves as his disciples, and who brought you up to this jilace, this is the Son of God. The voice thus intimates that Christ is the son of God in a sense in which Moses and Elias were not, nor could be sons of God. It is a title of honour peculiar to himself; for who is Moses, and what is Elias, in comparison of Christ ? Moses was a very great and illustrious man, an extraordinary ambassador of the Lord of hosts, the lawgiver of God's chosen people, the mediator of the old covenant, the greatest of the prophets. But when we compare him with Christ, all his glories evanish. " Moses was faithful verily as a servant," this was his proper station, " but Christ as a Son over his own house." To Moses God communicated much of his mind during the forty days that he was with him on Iloreb ; but Jesus was with the Father from the beginning, and intimately acquainted with all his counsels ; and no man knoweth the Father as doth the Son. JNIoses' face shone with a divine glory for a while after his interview with God ; but Jesus is himself " the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person," and " he who hath seen him hath seen the Father." As for THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. 453 Elias, he was indeed an eminent saint and a great prophet ; but neither was he of any consideration in the presence of Christ. Yea, what are not only all saints, all prophets, but all the angels of God, in comparison of him ? This is the Son ; all these are only servants. This is the Son, not by creation, as Adam; not by adoption, as believers; not by mere resemblance of nature, as angels ; not by eminence of rank, as kings and princes ; but by natural, necessary, and eternal generation, in such a sense as he himself expresses it, " he is in the Father, and the. Father in him," and that "he and the Father are one." The title implies his pre-eminence above all creatures, and ranks him as the "equal and the fellow of the Lord of hosts." To Avhom can it be given as it is to Christ? " For to which of the angels said God at any time, Thou art my Son, tliis day have I begotten thee." He became not the Son of God, as some say, by his resurrection from the dead. He was then only " declared to be the Son of God with power," for the voice proclaimed before his death, " This is my Son." He be- came not the Son of God by his incarnation, for " God sent his Son made of a woman," and " when he brought his First- begotten into the world, he said, Let all the angels of God worship him." He is not the Son of God merely as being Mediator, for as Mediator he is the Father's servant, but as Son, he is his equal, and " unto the Son," in his character as Son, the Father " saith. Thy throne, 0 God, is for ever and ever." The scriptures, indeed, leave us m no doubt re- specting the importance of this title as implying his divine dignity and glory ; as intimating that he possesses the same nature with the Father, and is peculiarly and personally related to him. Hence he is styled " his own Son," " his only Son," " his only-begotten Son." Kings are enjoined to " kiss the Son, lest he be angry," and angels to worship him in his lowest abasement. Nor need we wonder at the command, nor at that other command, " that all men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father ;" seeing " the Son, who has been given to us, has the government," not merely of 454 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. the church, but of the ^\'orlcl "on his shoulder;" and is called " Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." 2. Let us hear the divine testimony to the Father's affection to Christ ; " This is my beloved Son." Of the fact that he is I the object of his Father's ineffable love, the scriptures speak i most explicitly. " The Father," it is said, " loveth the Son," j and as the proof of it, " showeth him all things that himself doeth." Again, "The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into his hand." And again, " Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the Avorld." The unity of affection between the Father and the Son is founded on the identity of nature, the nearness of the relation that subsists between them in the Godhead, and their common possession of all perfection in an infinite degi-ee. But let me not dare to speak more particularly on a subject which is indeed too high for me, and which I cannot understand. It is proper, however, to observe, that it was not without reason, that God, from Tabor, now proclaimed his love to Christ as his Son. It served at once to confirm the faith of the three disciples, and of all believers. The Son of God, when on earth, Avas in a state of gi'eat abasement, and more like an outcast from the family, than like a Son beloved of the Father. For more than thirty years, he had resided in a place very unsuitable for his majesty ; and his mean appear- ance in the flesh, his poverty, his reproach, his persecutions, his toil, and, above all, the painful and disgraceful death he was soon to suffer, might stagger our faith, and lead us to say. If the Father loved him, why was it thus ? Must he not have been displeased, that he thus abandoned him to his enemies, and I'efused to deliver him ? No ; to assure all the I world that the sufferings of Jesus proceeded from no coldness I of his Father's heart, from no indifference or want of love, \ behold him here, rending the heavens, and with his own voice, protesting that he was and is his beloved Son. And, 0 what a discovery does this afford of the inconceivable love, the infinite mercy, of the eternal Father towards us ! He THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. 455 had but one Son, dearly beloved and only-begotten ; yet him he delivered up to a cruel death for our salvation ; on him he poured out the wTath, on him inflicted the punishment -which our sins deserved. Not to spai'e his Son, to save his enemies ; a Son who was dear to him as his ovm bowels ; a Son Avho was his glory, and his inexpressible delight ; a Son who had been " ever by him, as one brought up with him, who was daily his delight, rejoicing continually before him." 0 good- ness unheard of! O love truly ineffable ! What tongue can express, what heart conceive its gi-eatness ? How dearly must his people be beloved of the Father, since to purchase their salvation, he shed the blood of his dear Son ! and, surely, if of old, God said to Abraham, " Now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son fi'om me ; " how much more may we say, Behold, how God loved us ! This testimony, then, is at once honourable to Christ, and evidential of the gi*eatness of his Father's love to us. We must regard Christ as the true Isaac, beloved of his Father, even when sacrificed on the altar ; and his sufferings as proceeding from no Avant of love to him, but from his infinite, unmerited, unchangeable love to us. 3. Let us now hear the divine testimony to* his Father's entire approbation of his worTc ; " This is my Son, in whom I am well pleased." The work in which Christ was engaged was, of all others, the most difficult and arduous ; it W'as no less than the recovery of a multitude of perishing sinners from the ruins of their fall, and their restoration to the integi'ity and happiness which they had lost. And who was sufficient for tliis ? Man could not recover himself, nor could any of the angels of heaven render him effectual help ; for, before man could be saved, atonement needed to be made for transgression, a satisfaction answerable to the honour of the broken law, and to the claims of divine justice ; so that the recovery of the lost might bring glory to God, as well as happiness to man. "Was Christ fit for the work he had under- taken ? Did the eternal Father approve of the prudence, as 456 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. well as the generosity of the undertaking ? Yes ; his original undertaking of it met with his Father's fullest approbation. Indeed it was a voluntary compliance "wath his Father's will, expressed when the counsel of peace was between them both ; and he said, "Here am I, send me." Then the Father approved of him as fit, and only fit for so mighty a work, and declared, as the token of his approbation, that he had " laid help upon one who was mighty" to perform it, that he had found a proper ransom. The divine mind remained unaltered. No circumstance occurred, or indeed could occur, to produce change of vicAvs, or excite suspicion, in the divine mind, of his incompetency to perform it. His unchanged approbation of liis original choice, was intimated by the spirit of prophecy, when by Isaiah he said, " Behold my servant whom 1 uphold ; mine elect, in Avhom my soul delighteth." And now again, after Christ had come and entered on his work, the same approbation is repeated, " This is my Son, in Avhom I am Avell pleased." But this is not all. The Lord Jesus had for more than thirty years been engaged in the Avork of our salA'ation ; and Ave may conceive his Father as taking a survey of his Avork, so far as he had proceeded in it ; and giving a solemn appro- bation of his conduct. Hitherto the conduct of the blessed Jesus Avas entirely to his Father's mind. He had not only commenced it Avith cheerfulness, but applied to it Avith zeal, and managed it A\'itli fidelity. He Avas shaken by no prospect of difficulty, disconcerted by no occurrence, discouraged by no suficrings, diverted from it by no temptations, nor exhausted by any labour or pain. It was " his meat and his drink to do the Avill of him that sent him, and to finish his work." His Father's business was Avhat lay ever nearest his heart, inso- much that he fainted not, nor Avas discouraged, and could say in truth, " The zeal of thy house hath eaten me up." The voice from Tabor intimated that this God saw and AA-as pleased Avith ; and the testimony borne the Saviour, Avas not only an encouragement to his soul to persevere till he had finished THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. 457 it, but a solid ground of confidence to all that trust in his name. But neither is this all. Christ's work was not yet finished when the voice was heard. He had yet "to go up to Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders, and chief priests, and scribes, and be killed." He had yet to be tried by the treachery of Judas, the cowardice of Peter, and the desertion of the twelve. He had yet to suffer the injustice of the sanhedrim, the mockery of Herod, and his men of war, and the insults of the rude rabble. He had yet to endure the agonies of Geth- semane, and all the pain and shame of his protracted suffer- ings on Calvary. And what evidence is there that the Father was pleased with his Avhole work, as much pleased Avith the termination, as with the commencement of his labours of love ? that he has honourably discharged him, and accepted of his labours and sufferings, as a full reparation to the injured honour of his law, and a complete atonement for the sins of his people ? Why, the testimony from the Mount may be considered as an anticipation by him, who " knows the end from the beginning" of the final result, as meeting with his entire approbation ; and the recording of this testimony in Holy Scripture must be regarded as a solemn declaration of the Father's cordial acquiescence in it, as completely satisfac- tory. Formei'ly, by the spirit of prophecy, he testified that he " was well pleased for his righteousness' sake, for he had magnified the law and made it honourable ; " and afterwards he gave the most distinct evidence of his entire approbation, when " he raised him from the dead and gave him glory." In this point of view, the testimony in the text contains the best news a sinful world ever heard. It assures us that there is hope for the guilty, for that complete atonement has been made by the great Redeemer ; that God is reconciled, and gracious in Christ ; and that the sinner who believes in Him, may hope to have his iniquity forgiven however great, and " to be justi- fied fi'om all things, fi'om which he could not be justified by the law of Moses." In Christ God is well pleased, not only u 458 THE VOICE OUT OF THE CLOUD. pleased with his person as his beloved Son, but pleased with his work as our mediator and saviour ; pleased with it as honouring his law, as satisfying his justice, as removing all obstructions out of the way of the sinner's salvation, and making it consistent with the righteousness of God, " to justify the ungodly who believe in him." Being well pleased in Christ, he is, he must be well pleased with those who are in- terested in his righteousness, and all believers may say, " we joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we receive the atonement." Ought not we to be pleased with that Saviour, and that method of salvation which are so pleasing to God ? Can we do otherwise than think, and speak most honourably of him in whom God's soul delighteth? should we not endeavour in all things to please him, and, particularly, ever to keep in remembrance, and ever rely on that work, by which peace and reconciliation have been procured ? THE EFFECTS OF YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. 459 XIX. THE EFFECTS OF YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. Job xiii. 26. — " Thou ^rritest bitter things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth." The text which I have chosen as the foundation of this dis- course, will give me opportunity to say many things which deserve the serious consideration both of the young and the old. It will give me oppoi-tunity to warn the young against those iniquities which, however lightly thought of now, may cleave to them through life in their bitter consequences, yea, and if mercy prevent not, may follow them into the eternal world, and realize in their experience the awful words of Zophar the Naamathite, " his bones are full of the sins of his youth, which shall lie down with him in the dust ;" and on the other hand, to refresh the memories of the old on the subject of their almost forgotten youthful follies and sins, and thus to humble them before God, and rouse them to a holy earnestness in presenting David's prayer, " Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions, according to thy mercy remember thou me ; for thy goodness sake, O Lord." I shall then speak fii'st of the iniquities of our youth, and afterwards of our being imade to possess the iniquities of our youth, even after we have become old. I. It does not appear fi'om anything recorded of Job, that he was at any period of his life particularly wicked. The first account we have of him is that " he was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil ; " and we should rather conclude from the circumstance of his being thus first 460 THE EFFECTS OF introduced to our notice, that he was one of those highly favoured persons, who like Obadiah, the governor of Ahab's house, had " feared the Lord from his youth." But admitting that he was early religious, are Ave to conclude that he was pure from what he here calls " the iniquities of youth?" Human nature was the same in the early age when Job lived, as it is at this day ; men then, to use the words of Scripture, "went astray as soon as they were bom," and were "transgres- sors from the womb ;" and we dare not make Job, nor any other son of Adam, an exception from the sweeping censure pronounced on our race by God in the eighth chapter of Gene- sis, " the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." I acknowledge that during several of the first years of life, we are incapable of the commission of actual sin; for the powers of the human mind have not at that early period sufficiently expanded to enable us so to discern between good and evil, as to render us morally accountable for our actions. To this period (4od refers in his address to Jonah concerning the Ninevites, of whom, he says, there were six score thousand persons " who could not discern between their right hand and their left;" that is, I apprehend, not Avho could not name these parts of their bodies, but who could not on account of their tender years, distinguish betwixt what was morally right and morally wrong in their own conduct. But while we admit this, we must recollect that in another point of view the youngest are sinners before God. Even infants, though incapable of actual sin, are chargeable with the guilt of original sin ; that sin in which our whole race was involved by Adam's transgression, and which is conveyed to us from him by ordinary generation. In infancy the seed is already sown from Avhich proceed the sins of our future life ; that root of bitterness implanted in our natures, which afterwards springing up troubleth us, produc- ing those corrupt actions which at once defile and disgrace us. Of the proof of this doctrine I cannot at present particularly gpeak. I shall only remark two things : First, that David acknowledges it in his own case ; for though the son of pious YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. 4G1 parents and born in lawful wedlock, he says, " Behold I wjis shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me." And secondly, Paul alleges, as proof of it, the fact that, in the righteous dispensation of divine providence, " death hath reigned even over them that have not sinned, after the smilitude of Adam's transgression ;" that is to say, infants, who have not like Adam committed actual transgi'ession, have nevertheless been treated as sinners, and subjected to death, the wages of sin, which the righteous God would not have done, if they had not been, in virtue of their con- nection with Adam, sinners in his sight. Such then is the melancholy fact concerning us. Sin has place in us from the moment of our formation. It has struck its roots deep into the very constitution of our nature, and disposes us to go astray, as soon as we are capable of it, to the commission of sin. In revie^ving the iniquities of our youth, the depravity of our nature must by no means be overlooked. We must trace them to their source, for unless we do so, we -will never be humbled before God on account of them, nor duly vigilant in watching against them. We must strike at the root if we would fell the tree, for if we only top the branches, others will shoot out afresh ; the Spirit of God must renovate the heart, making " old things pass away, and all things become new." It is evident, then, from what has been said, that our child- hood itself is not a period of perfect innocence. It must be added, that the corruption of our nature begins to discover it- self at a very eaiiy period, and breaks out in those bad words and bad actions, which Job calls " the iniquities of his youth." They must have been very inaccurate observers of human nature, who have not remarked this in the conduct of the young around them. Indeed you have only to reflect on what you yourselves were, and how you yourselves acted, at the earliest period of which memory retains any traces, in order to be sensible that you did not wait till you were corrupted by bad example, and by bad advice, but were led aside by your own corrupt hearts, by pride, by selfishness, by cunning, by 462 THE EFFECTS OF passion, into the commission of many actions, which, young as you were, you knew to be evil. And if this must be admitted respecting the time of childhood, Avhat can we say in apology for our conduct at a subsequent period during the years of youth ? Our memories, if we examine what is recorded in them, will furnish us wath many instances of duties omitted, which we knew were obligatory on us, and of sins committed, which at the time of commission, our consciences told us were sins. Youth, indeed, is the period of inexperience and incon- sideration ; but this, though it shews that the sins of youth are less aggi*avated than those of maturer years, does not acquit us entirely from the charge of guilt, and ought not to make us cease from imputing blame to oui'selves. Let us deal honestly with ourselves when we review the period of youth. Let conscience be faithful to its charge. What think you, now when you have reached maturer years, of the duplicity and cunning you employed to deceive your parents or companions, and to hide from them what would have given them displea- sure, or perhaps have exposed you to punishment ? Does the filthy language Avhich often proceeded out of your lips, excite no regrets ; or the falsehoods you told, leave no conviction of sin on your consciences ? Do you not recollect with pain the many instances in which prayer Avas neglected, the holiness of the Sabbath profaned, and your own will followed in opposi- tion to the express orders, and in spite of the most serious remonstrances of your parents, yea, and notwithstanding your own explicit promises ? But why enter into particular details? Enough has been mentioned to show that the most cautious and circumspect among us, did not pass through any stage of youth, without exhibiting such evidence of the depravity of our nature, as to give us reason for saymg, " If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquity, 0 Lord, who shall stand ? " I will conclude this part of my discourse, with remarking, that the expression of the text, " the iniquities of my youth," may mean, not merely sins committed in that period of life, but more particularly those sins which are incident to youth, YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. 4G3 to which that period of life is more particularly propense. What sms those are, we may judge from considering the state of high health which is then commonly enjoyed, the rashness and inexperience of youth, the levity of the mind, the sanguine- ness of the temper, the warmth of the imagination, and the strength of the passions. I will not enter on any enumeration of these sins. Let every man rather arraign himself before the tribunal of his own mind, and bi'ing his whole conduct in youth under serious review, that he may know and be humbled for his OAvn sins in particular. Yet I cannot forbear alluding to one class of sins, which Paul distinguishes by the name of " youthful lusts," sins which originate in the violence of the passions at that period, which often defile the imagination by the impure thoughts which are cherished long before they break out in open criminality, and which when indulged, lead to the most abominable dissoluteness of conduct ; to rioting and drunkenness, to chambering and wantonness; sins against which the young are most solemnly and affectionately warned by Solomon in the Book of Proverbs ; and against which, I may add, we are warned by the fate of multitudes of thoughtless creatures, who by the unrestrained indulgence of their sensual appetites, are hurried on to temporal and eternal ruin. II. Let me now proceed to speak of our being made to possess the iniquities of our youth even after we have become old. At the time when Job spake as in the text, he must have been a man considerably advanced in life ; for we find that before his calamities came upon him, he had had a large family of seven sons and three daughters, who were grown up and settled in life. In what sense then could he be " made to possess the iniquities of his youth," after the period of youth was long past ? Why, in two senses ; by the painful recollec- tion of them, and by being made to feel the bitter consequences of them. Of the first years of our life scarcely a vestige re- mains on the memory ; and much, very much, is blotted out of our recollection, of what was transacted in the period of youth, 464 THE EFFECTS OF beyond the possibility of recalling it. But though many of the sins of youth are so completely forgotten, that they cannot be particularly mourned over and confessed, yet many others of them may be brought fresh to our recollection by a careful review of our past life. And such a review, however unplea- sant it be to rake into those particulars in our former conduct, which we ardently wish had never happened, is both our duty and our interest. Old sins do not prescribe like old debts. Though we should contrive to forget them, they remain mai'ked before God, and will be the subject of inquu-y at the great decisive day. Yea, circumstances in the course of divine providence may force them upon our recollection in future life ; for often as in the case of Job, when God writes bitter things against us, sending on us grievous afflictions, he makes us to possess the sins of our youth, not merely by reviv- ing the memory of what was almost forgotten, but by causing us to feel in painful experience the bitter fruits of our youthful transgressions. Ah ! how many are made to possess or feel the eifects of the sins of their youth, in various forms, long after they were committed, yea, and often after they have been sincerely repented of. We may trace their effects upon the youthful sinner's future peace of mind, on his character, on his health, on his temporal prosperity, on the particular afilictions of his future lot, and where special mercy does not interpose, on his everlasting condition. 1. Let us consider their effects on his future peace of mind. The period of youth is the seed time of life, and whatsoever a man then soweth, that shall he afterwards reap. The thought- less youth, when he goes on frowardly in the ways of his own heart, little thinks what uneasiness and distress of mind he is preparing for himself at a subsequent period. If God by his grace shall ever lead him to see the error of his ways and grant him true repentance, the sins of youth, which perhaps he con- sidered at tlie time as trivial affairs, as mere youthful follies, will give him serious disti'ess. It wiU pain liim to the heart to think that he had devoted the morning of life, not to the re- YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. 405 membrance and service of his Creator and Redeemer, but to the world, the devil, and the flesh ; that so much of precious time, and that the best of it, the choicest portion of it, too, has been thrown away, and worse than thrown away, in the pur- suit of vanity and sin. Though he hopes that God has for- given him, he is unable to forgive himself, and ^vill to his dying day have a painful recollection of his ingi-atitude and folly. Paul the aged could never forget that in youth he had been a blasphemer, a persecutor and an injurious person ; and Ephraim is represented by the prophet as thus expressing himself, " Surely after that I was turned, I repented, and after I was instructed, I smote upon my thigh. I Avas ashamed, yea even confounded, because I did bear the reproach of my youth.'" But what are the regrets and the painful recollections of those who have an interest in forgiving mercy, to the distress and anguish of those, whose consciences, after they had long kept silence, are at length aroused, and set the iniquities of their youth in dreadful array against them? And this is no uncom- mon case. The sleeping lion is aroused and glares dreadfully in the sinner's face. His former iniquities, long forgotten, rush into his memory, and he trembles at the thought that for all these things God will bring him into judgment. How dreadful the case of the man whose own conscience is his most implacable enemy ! He prospers in the world, he has of tem- poral things all that his heart could wish, yet he is miserable, and would willingly part with his best worldly possessions to have peace in his own breast. But the ghosts of his former sins stare him sternly in the face, and threaten him with that vengeance which he is conscious he deserves ; and old Cain, go where he Avill, let him build cities, or occupy himself in never so many worldly schemes, bears the mark on his foreliead of the sin of his youth, and is compelled to say, " My punishment is gi-eater than I can bear." Nothing but the faith that God no more remembers them, but has graciously forgiven the sins of youth, can restore solid peace to such a soul ; and sure, could we figure to ourselves these consequences of sin, it would excite 4G6 THE EFFECTS OF us to circumspection, that we may not prepare for ourselves such indescribable sorrow. 2. The sins of youth often become injurious to the character in future life. The young person who has been left to go far astray from the paths of vu-tue, often feels, long after he has abandoned his wicked courses, their effects upon his reputation ; it is well if they do not foUow him to the grave. If he is brought to see his errors, and is, through grace, turned to the wisdom of the just, the recollection of what he was throws suspicion on his present professions ; and it is not per- haps till he has justified the sincerity of his repentance by a long course of uniformly sober and religious conduct, that con- fidence can be placed in him, as not for some interested pur- pose acting a hypocritical part. It was a considerable while after his conversion, before Paul could obtain that measure of confidence which was necessary to usefulness where the history of his former life was known. " AVhen he essayed to join himself to the disciples in Jerusalem, they were aU afraid of him, and believed not that he was a disciple." Yea further, the stains on the character, occasioned by the iniquities of youth, are not unfrequently revived, after they had seemed to be completely wiped off. The malignity of an enemy, or the officious activity of a dealer in scandal, will take occasion, from an inconsiderable incident, to rake into the whole history of a person's life ; and without mercy, without charity, for no purpose whatever but the pleasure of evil speaking, revive the stoiy of old transgressions which God has forgiven, which men in general had forgotten, and which were scarcely present to any mind, but that of the individual who often humbled him- self before God, in private, on account of them. From such causes as these, the iniquities of youth often in the providence of God, follow men through life, and prevent them from enjoy- ing that unsullied reputation which, next to a good conscience, must be an object of desiz-e, and wliich indeed is necessary to extensive usefulness in the world. In old age they ai'e oflen made to possess tlie iniquities of their youth. YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. 4G7 3. They often have the most fatal effects on the health of the body^ Some of the iniquities of youth have a dii'cct ten- dency to ruin the constitution as well as the character, and bring the sinner to an untimely grave. Of many who go thus astray, we may say with Elihu, in the book of Job, " they die in youth, and their life is among the unclean." Even when their iniquities have not so fatal an issue, God often makes them, in his jirovidence, feel the bitter eifects of them through life. A crazy constitution, and a premature old age, are tlie ordinai'y effects of early dissipation and intemperance. Their sin thus, sooner or later, "finds them out," and by the disease which they entail upon themselves, makes them to " know that it is an evil thing, and a bitter, which they did in departing from the Lord." If the young wiU not take warning ; if, hur- ried on by the violence of their own passions, and listening to the insinuations of bad companions, they suffer themselves to be ensnared, let them be assured of it, that " they shall mourn at last, when their flesh and their body ai-e consumed, and say. How have I hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof ; and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined mine ear to them that instructed me ! I was almost in all evil, in the midst of the congregation and assembly." " What fruit will they then have of these things? For the end of these things is death." 4. They often have an unhappy influence on men^s tempoi^al prosperity. The sin of Ishmael, committed in the thirteenth year of his age, in mocking at religion, issued in very disas- trous effects to himself, and to his mother Hagar, who, perhaps, gave him too much countenance in his profane con- duct. It occasioned their expulsion from a pious family, the family of Abraham, in which they enjoyed at once religious instruction and example, and led to all the hardships of a v/andering and unsettled life in the wilderness, in which, on one occasion, Ishmael had almost perished of thirst. And need I say how many young persons, by their foolish and im- moral conduct, have occasioned to themselves similar disgi-ace 468 THE EFFECTS OF and hardships? They have, either by the unsettledness of their temper, abandoned situations in which they had the prospect of being comfortably provided for, or have been dismissed from them because of their idleness, refractoriness, or immoralities ; and have been thrown upon the world T\athout rej)utation, and exposed to temptations which they were ill prepared for resisting. The poverty of many in their old age, and many of the greatest hardships and sufferings of their life, may thus be traced back to the sins of their youth, as the natural con- sequence and the just correction of them. It is their early folly that had made it so as it is with them at this day. How fared it with Jacob ? In his youth he imposed on his aged father Isaac, and supplanted his twin brother Esau ; and fourteen years of servitude, and hard labour, and oppression, Avhen he might otherwise have enjoyed comfort and affluence in his father's house, was the consequence. Look again at the prodigal in the parable ; he demanded his share of patri- mony before he had wisdom to manage it. He speedily spent all in riotous living, and ere long was reduced to a state of most abject poverty and wretchedness, fain to eat of the husks cast to the swine, and having his nakedness scarcely covered by his rags. Often, indeed, do men, in this world, eat of the fruit of their own doings, and have reason, Avhen they con- sider in advanced life the wretchedness of their condition, to say, " Thou writest bitter things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth." 5. In the pai^ticular kind of the afflictions of their future life, men are made to possess the iniquities of their youth. It would, in ordinary cases, be presumptuous, and a breach of christian charity towards our neighbour, to consider particular visitations of providence, as the punishment of particular sins. Yet there is, in many instances, so striking a conformity betwixt the kind of our afflictions, and the sins which we had formerly committed, as can scarcely fail to bring these sins to remembrance, and lead the person to consider them as their just recompense. You will observe this opera- YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. 4G9 tion of conscience very remarkably exemplified in the case of the sons of Jacob. They had acted a very unfeeling and cruel part towards their brother Joseph ; and no sooner were they treated with harshness by the governor of Egypt, and thrown into prison, than their consciences suggested that their sufferings were the fruit of their sins. " They said one to another, we are verily guilty conceming our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul when he besought us, and we would not hear, therefore is this distress come upon us." A kind of re- taliation may often be remarked in the providence of God, in the similiarity betwixt the sin and the manner in which it is punished. It struck the mind of the heathen king, Adonibezek, who had treated three score and ten kings, whom he had van- quished, with great barbarity, so that when Israel had treated him in the same manner, his conscience led him to say, " As I have done, so God hath requited me." Now something of this kind may often be observed as the consequence of the iniquities of youth. If, for instance, any of you now suffer gi'eat uneasiness from the conduct of your children ; if they are ready to break your hearts by their obstinacy and dis- obedience, by their negligence of their education, their evident dislike to whatever is serious, and particularly by their con- tempt of your authority, and indifference to your comfort ; what if God is taking this method to bring the sins of your own youth to your remembrance, making your own Avicked- ness correct you, and your backslidings reprove you, and leading you by what you feel, to reflect on the pain you occasioned to your own parents, and say with sorrow, " I remember my sins this day ? " 6. I must add, and it is a moi*e serious and awful consider- ation than any of those which I have mentioned, that impeni- tent offenders will be made to possess the iniquities of their youth in the sufferings of their everlasting lot. AVe may not just now feel the iniquities of youth as a burden on our consciences, nor perceive any injurious effects of them at present on our character, our health, or our temporal prosperity. We are at 470 THE EFFECTS OF ease notwithstanding our grievous youthful follies and crimes. But let us not say in our heart, " God hath forgotten, he hideth his face, he will never see it." Be assured of it the debt is on record. God remembers sin even when in the course of his providence he takes no present visible notice of it. Though sentence be not speedily executed on the workers of iniquity, yet let the impenitent tremble, for a day will come in which all iniquity, the sins of youth, and the sins of riper years, will receive their just recompense. How di'eadful if the iniquities of youth, which we treated lightly, should then be produced in a^vful array against us ! And they will be so, if God bestow not in his grace the blessing of repentance. Do you doubt of it, and are you disposed to consider these as big unmeaning words ? Then hear this : " The Lord hath sworn by the excellency of Jacob, surely I will never forget any of their works;" and again, "Rejoice, 0 young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes ; but know thou that for all these things God wiU bring thee tmto judgment." And if God do so, he mil make us possess the iniquities of youth as a burden which, by its weight, will crush us down to the lowest hell. Let me now conclude with addressing myself, first to the young, and then to you who are more advanced in life. Are you still young ? Remember, that young as you are, you are sinners. Though your parents, your teachers, your masters and mistresses, your companions may think favourably of you, and be satisfied in general with your conduct, and though you may have hitherto been preserved from those gross outbreakings which leave a stain on the character ; you must beware of concluding, that you are pure from sin. Your own consciences, I doubt not, tell you of many sins to which all the world are strangers, and "God, who is greater than your hearts, and knoweth all things," knows how often and how grievously you have offended. Now, is it a small thing that young as YOUTHFUL INIQUITIES. 471 you lire, you have so much guilt lying on your consciences ? Is it prudent or safe to suffer yourselves to gi-ow old with such iniquities marked against you, with such a burden of guilt pressing upon you ? especially when life is uncertain, and the opportunity you yet enjoy of application to the throne of gi-ace for pardon may cease much sooner than you apprehend ? Consider it as yoiu* present duty, and present interest, to apply to God that the sins of your youth may be forgiven. Why should you delay for a single day ? It is no disgi'ace to the young to call upon God ; it is their highest honour, their greatest ^visdom, to seek him while he is to be found, and to call on him while he is nigh. Be not afraid to apply to him. Though he is great, he is good ; he delighteth in mercy ; he is seated on the throne of grace, and from his throne he speaks these encouraging words : " They that seek me early shall find me." Are you advanced in life ? Your duty is seriously to review the sins of your youth and former years, and to cry to God, that he may not make you eternally to possess them. If they remain marked against you, they will hang over your heads like a drawn sword, ready, as soon as the slender thread of life is cut, to pierce you with ten thousand son-ows. Be wise for the time to come. Apply to him, Avhom you have offended, for forgiveness. It is not yet too late. There is access still to the throne, and you are pemiitted to fill your mouths with arguments. Mercy is the darling attribute of God. Scripture tells us of the riches, the abundance, the gi-eatness of God's mercy ; of his delight in it ; of the great acts of his mercy in the forgiveness and salvation of others ; and, particularly, it informs us of the method in which his mercy Hows to sinful miserable men ; of what he has done in giving his own Son to die, that mercy might be made manifest, without prejudice to the claims of justice. Be encouraged, then, to ask in the appointed way ; and, according to his mercy, he will forgive your sin, and save your souls. 472 THE spirit's testimony concerning XX. THE SPIRIT'S testimony CONCERNING THE DEAD IN CHRIST. Revelations xiv. 13. — " And I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, "Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord : Yea, saith the Spirit." It cannot be supposed that anything is recorded in Scripture that has not its use ; for, however many idle words good men may speak and write, when they follow their own spirits, " the inspiration of the Almighty giveth understanding," and those that are under it, are enabled to write with an unerring pen. The declaration of the text has a peculiar claim to our serious consideration. A voice from heaven proclaimed it ; a solemn command to John to record it for the use of the church, accompanied the declaration ; and the Spirit of God himself gave a solemn and public assent unto it, as a gi'cat and very important truth. " I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord : Yea, saith the Spirit." The question before us, therefore, which we shall attempt to answer, is. What are some of those important ends which the Spirit of God had in view, in com- manding John to wi-ite this declaration of the blessedness of dead believers ? I reply in the following particulars. John was commanded to I. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord ; as a testimony to the truth of religion, and the ^visdom of being religious. One great objection to religion is founded upon the pro- THE DEAD IN CHRIST. 473 miscuous distribution of happiness, and those things that are conducive to it, in this -world. Those wlio make this objection, argue in this manner ; if religion were from God, we should expect to see CAndent proofs in the conduct of jji'ovidence of the divine approbation of religious men, and of his disapproba- tion of those who are irreligious. "We should expect to see believers in Christ rich, and honourable, and happy ; protected from the assaults of painful and lingering disease ; defended against the oppression and injustice of wicked men, and enjoy- ing a more than ordinary share of personal and domestic hap- piness : whereas, so far is this from being the case, that we observe the opposite more frequently taking place : the most irreligious men often in highest place, while the godly are in obscure station ; blooming in health, while they are wasted by disease ; Avallowing in riches, while they are pinched with poverty ; surrounded with honour, while they are laden with disgrace. The voice from heaven suggests in the text an answer which at once repels the force of this objection, and exhibits the most powerful persuasive to religion. The por- tion of good men lies not in this world ; it lies in the region which is beyond the grave. They say not of the world, " this is our rest." They look not for happiness in this wilderness, and are not disappointed if they should miss it. They look forward in hope to another world, and their expectations are not disappointed ; for, " blessed are the dead which die in the Lord." Religion is intended for both worlds ; it is profitable for the life that now is, but peculiarly profitable for that which is to come. It has springs of delight, which more than counterbalance all the pains and afflictions of this present world ; in so much that, were there no hereafter, the Chris- tian would not exchange lots with the most prosperous repro- bate. But its value appears in the most conspicuous point of view, when the destroyer, death, approaches, and we draw near to the eternal world. When the man of the world enjoys the desires of his heart; when, like Dives in the parable, he is "clothed in purple and fine linen, and fares sumptuously 474 THE spirit's testimony concerning every day," he looks down with disdain on the poor saint, that denies himself those enjoyments which have such a relish in his mouth. He pronounces religion an enemy to human joy, and blesses himself that he is above making it any matter of his concern. But when death approaches, the tables are turned. Plow wretched then the man that " made gold his confidence, and said to the most fine gold, thou art my hope." How miserable, when his honours drop from his head, like a flower that has withered, and nature can no longer relish enjoyments of a carnal nature ! "With all the bitterness of JNIicah, he will be disposed to say to death when he approaches, " You are taking from me my gods, and what have I more ? " But " mai'k the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the latter end of that man is peace." He can part with the world without a sigh, for he had long before given his heart to God. If he leaves behind him things in which he had pleasure, he parts with them joyfully, because he knows he goes to a place where he ^vill receive pleasures unspeakably more satisfying to the soul, and intermixed with no alloy. And if the difference be conspicuous in the prospect of death, how great is it in that world to which death brings them ! Death takes men to their appointed abodes ; it hurries the man who made not God his confidence, to the place of misery, to " Tophet, the pile whereof is fire and much wood ; " where all the joys of life will be exchanged for everlasting sorrow. But it conducts the Mends of Jesus to their Father's house, to the palace of the skies, to the city of the living God, where all sorrow is forgotten, and where all joy abounds. In this view of things, does not the text bear honourable testimony to the truth of religion, and powerfully recommend it as in life the wisest choice, as in death the only happy lot, as demanding our entire souls, and holding forth to us unceasing pleasures ? II. " Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord," as an evidence that death is no loss to the believer in Christ, but rather unspeakable gain. THE DEAD IN CHRIST. 475 When a believer dies, he loses something, but gains in- effably more ; when an unbeliever dies, he gains nothing ; he loses all. The believer loses by death something, but nothing that he can account valuable ; for his loss is swalloAved up in the rich enjoyments of which he then takes possession. He leaves earthly possessions, in order to enter on the inheri- tance which fadeth not away. He parts vnih earthly rela- tions, and goes to his Father's house above. The society of imperfect saints, in which he often experienced much happiness, is exchanged for the society of the " general assembly and church of the firstborn," and that of the "spirits of just men made perfect." But what does the unbeliever gain by death ? Nothing. All is loss ; unspeakable, irretrievable loss. He loses his wealth, his honour, his friends. He loses his soul, and this is everything ; for, " what will it profit a man, though he should gain the whole world, if he lose his soul ? or what can he give in exchange for his soul ? " In death the believer " puts off the earthly house of this tabernacle," but he does not lose it ; for his dust is precious in the sight of Christ ; it shall be gathered again at the last day, and soul and body shall for ever, united, enjoy God. There is only one supposition on which death can be imagined a loss to a Christian, and that is, the supposition that the enjoyments of heaven do not commence till the general judgment. Many otherwise worthy men have imagined some- thing of this sort, but sure I am it is an uncomfortable doc- trine, and has no foundation in sacred scriptui-e. Who can imagine that the saints who have died in the faith, thousands of years since, have not yet seen the face of their God ? Who can imagine that generations yet unborn, who shall hereafter believe, shall be in heaven as soon as Abraham, and David, and Paul, and the rest ? Were this the case, it would be no advantage to saints to die ; it could be no gain to go down to the dust : it must be better for them to serve God and enjoy God here. Paul, however, was of a different opinion. He believed that " to be absent fi-om the body," was " to be present 476 THE spirit's testimony concerning with the Lord," and, therefore, he Avas " in a strait betwixt two ;" whether to desire to continue labouring as a Christian, and an apostle for God's glory, or to " desire to depart to be with Christ," which for him, he says, " was far better." Could Paul have hesitated a moment, between labouring for Christ on earth, and sleeping in the grave ? No ! had not he expected an immediate entrance into the joy of the Lord, he would have besought the Lord to permit him to remain, and labour for him in the world. But why need we argue in behalf of a truth so clear from the Scriptures? Does not the bible speak of Lazarus, as already in Abraham's bosom ; and does not that say that both Abraham and Lazarus are already in heaven ? Does not our Lord promise the penitent thief, that he should that very day be with him in paradise ? Does not the apostle to the Hebrews speak of " the spirits of just men made perfect?" evidently intimating thereby, that the souls of the saints are in heaven, all the while their bodies are in the dust. Li fine, is not John, in the text, commanded to record this as a truth beyond all question ? for how do the words of the heavenly voice run : " Blessed shall be the dead ? No ; but " Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord ; " record it that they not only shall be, but at present are, blessed. But this is not all ; it is added, " from hence- forth," that is, from the very moment that they die, they are blessed ; and what evidence is there that they are thus blessed ? The Spirit says, " They rest from their labours, and their works do follow them." The instant they die, they rest from their labours, and from " henceforth" they are blessed. Can death, then, be loss ? Is it not unspeakable gain to the people of God ? III. AVrite, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, as a memorial to the faithfulness of God to his promises made to them that trust in his word. The God of Christians is the God of truth. " Faithfulness is the girdle of his loins, and righteousness the girdle of his THE DEAD IN CHRIST. 477 reins." " His covenant he cannot break ; he cannot alter the thing that is gone out of his lips, nor suffer his faithful- ness to fail." This part of the divine character is what aflbrds strong consolation to those who have fled for refuge to lay- hold on the hope set before them. On the divine ftiithfulncss they rely in all their straits. This supports under affliction, encourages them in the hour of trial, and strengthens them in the day of battle. His faithfulness is ever their shield and buckler. To this they look as what shall support them, and give them safety in the hour of death, and shall ensure happi- ness to them after death. And shall any that trust in him be disappointed ? No. " The needy shall not always be for- gotten ; the expectation of the poor shall not perish for ever." But how shall we know this ? We cannot look into the valley of death to see whether they get safely through its darkest paths. We cannot lift aside the veil that conceals the eternal world from our view, to be certain whether they have got to heaven or not. How then shall we be ascertained of this im- portant fact ? ^Vliy, he has commanded John to record two things in the text concerning departed saints, in order to satisfy us on this head ; first, that they died " in the Lord ; " and secondly, that having thus died, they are " blessed." While, therefore, this text stands in our bibles, it stands an everlasting memorial to the faithfulness of God. Did the Lord promise to love them to the end ? He has been as good as his word ; for they died " in the Lord," and therefore in his favour. Did he promise " to keep what they had committed unto him ? " He has been mindful of his word ; for, dying in the Lord, he has preserved their souls alive ; has not suffered their faith to fail, nor their hope to die out. Did he promise " to be with them in trouble," and " never to leave them nor forsake them?" He has done what he said; for, dying "in the Lord," it is evident that he has been with them, and " kept them by his power through faith unto salvation." Again, did he promise them victory in death ? He has per- formed his promise ; for their blessedness is a token that he 478 THE spirit's testimony concerning gave them victory. He lias not only guided them while in life by his counsel, but has conducted them to the land of glory. He has not only made goodness and mercy to follow them all the way to the grave, but brought them to the house of the Lord, where they shall dwell for ever. Here, then, is a memorial to the faithfulness of Jehovah in the case of saints that are gone : and while this stands in our bibles, should not saints that yet remain on earth confide in his faithfulness in every case ? Knowing that the dead in Christ are blessed, can you. Christians, refuse to commit your concerns into God's hands, " as a faithful Creator ? " Should not this ever be your language, " God is faithful who has promised, who also wiUdoit?" IV. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, as a consolation to those who have been deprived of godly relations by death. Death is ever making ravages among us, and there is never a day but some one family or other is in mourning. The pain of separation between friends is in every case great, and nature needs consolation in seasons of such afiliction. "We know something of the loss which we ourselves sustained by their departure ; but we wish for something more ; we wish to know how it fares with them who have been taken from us. It eases the mind, in the absence of those we love, if we have reasonable grounds of hope that they are well. And what an ease, what unspeakable relief, must it give to a pious mind, to be able to hope that friends, gone to the world of spirits, are now associating, not with the damned, but with the blessed ; are beholding the face of their heavenly Father, and enjoying fellowship in glory with the Mediator of the new covenant ! If anything can heighten and embitter the sorrows of the desolate, it must be this, that they are almost obliged to believe that those who are taken from them are suffering the reward of their sins. If anything can alleviate their sorrows, it must be this, that what is their loss, is their departed relation's THE DEAD IN CHRIST. 479 unspeakable gain. Our heavenly Father has provided con- solations for us suited to every variety of distress. His own name is " the God that comforteth us in all our tribulations." His Son's name is " the Consolation of Israel." His Spirit's name is " the Comforter." He comforts us under views of guilt, by representations of the eificacy of the propitiation made by the blood of Christ ; under a sense of the power of sin, by assurances that it shall not obtain dominion. Under tempta- tion he comforts us by promises of victory ; under desertion, by intimations of renewed visits of love ; under afflictions, by informing us that he is " a present help in the time of trouble." In the prospect of our own death, he comforts us by assuring us that when we " walk through the dark valley he will be with us," and that " his rod and his staff will then comfort us;" and when he calls our friends away before us, those friends to whom we were attached by the double band of nature and of grace, he comforts us by this, which he caused John to record, that " blessed are the dead that die in the Lord." And should we not take the benefit from this which he has intended for us ? "Why should we mourn in hopeless sorrow, because God has taken some of his children to his own house ? Should we be displeased because a fellow-traveller has got to the end of his jom'ney before ourselves ? K we love them, should we not be pleased that they are happy ? that they fare much better now than they ever did when with us ? "Why should we be dissatisfied that they ai'e not with us, since Christ has declared his will that they should be with him ? Do we act like Christians when we object to his will? "Where is the proof of our conformity to him, if we show it not by approving of his conduct when it most thwarts the feelings of nature in us ? "I would not have you to be ignorant, bre- thren, concerning them that are asleep, that ye sorrow not even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. Wherefore comfort one another with these words." 480 THE spirit's testimony concerning V. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, as an encouragement to saints under the afflictions of life. Tlie afflictions of this life are numerous. It is not easy to bear them with a suitable frame of spirit ; and in nothing do the people of God show their infirmity more than in the manner in which they behave when subjected to them. If they faint in the day of adversity, it is because their strength is small. Discontent, impatience, and despondency are often lifting up their heads, and occasioning much dishonour to God, and great disquiet in our own souls. What will prevent or cure these soul disorders ? One thing will ; believing views, and assured hopes of the exceeding great and eternal weight of glory that will follow the afflictions of life. For this purpose, then, among others, the words of the text are written, as an encouragement under present distress. Those that die in the Lord are blessed. This is written by the pencil of the Most High. Why then be discontented with a lot of affliction in the meantime 1 The afflictions of this present life are not by any means to be compared with the glory that shall follow. Why be impatient on account of these afflictions ? These " light afflictions are but for a moment." Death wiU soon put a termination to them ; it is at the very door. And who would not bear with patience a short-lived pain, in the expecta- tion of " fulness of joy, and pleasures for evermore ?" Why sink into despondency ? These afflictions are not intended to destroy, but to purify us ; not to cut us off, but to prepare us for heaven ; not to separate us from Christ ; this they cannot do ; but to make us ready for nearer communion with Christ. Were they not necessaiy, they would not be sent ; be- cause they are necessary, should we not take them cheer- fully ? Should we not consider them as difficult indeed, but necessary steps of our journey ; and all the while hope that our heavenly Father will carry us safely through, and bring us in due time to the end, Avlien we shall join the blessed dead, who,before us, have died in the Lord, and with them, rest from our labours ? THE DEAD IN CHRIST. 481 VI. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, as an antidote against the fear of death. Death is the king of terrors. None can look upon him when he approaches with indifference, who seriously consider what death is, and what are the consequences of it. Men often talk quite at their ease ai)out this event when they are sitting upon the hill of prosperity, and figure him to themselves as yet at a great distance from them. But when he is seen just at hand and ready to do his office, how often has the heart of the hero fainted within him, and his countenance become pale as ashes ! We are not astonished that wicked men are afraid of death ; it rather surprises us that they so seldom experience uneasiness from this cause; it can be accounted for only by the supposition of ignorance of their own danger, and of their unfitness to enter upon that world to which death introduces them. The people of God only have reason to despise the fears of death, and look with indifference on his formidable approaches. Yet they often are as much afraid as others, and " through fear of death are subject to bondage." To what is this owing? Why are many saints of God so much distressed with uneasy apprehensions on this subject ? Surely they forget the triumph Jesus their Saviour has gained over him, and the promises he has made of victory and triumph to them. Surely they forget that Jesus has deprived him of his sting, and made him a harmless enemy, or rather I should say, a friend to every one of his people. They do not surely con- sider that death is one of the things which an inspired apostle says cannot separate from Christ ; is an important article of that inventory of goods which Christ, the testator of the new covenant, has bequeathed as a portion to his spiritual seed. Should not these considerations raise the spirits of the people of God above the fear of this last enemy ? and lead them to say, " Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy, Avhen I fall, I shall arise ; " when I fall by thy stroke, and am laid low in the dust by thee, I shall arise to heaven ; my soul shall " escape as a bird out of the snare of the fowler." I shall X 482 THE spirit's testimony concerning ascend in spirit, while in body I descend. Accordingly, when the safety of believers in death, as dying in the Lord, and their happiness after death, as blessed, is recorded by the authority of an heavenly voice in the text, are we not to consider it as an antidote against the fear of this enemy ? We may thus argue from these words : If believers in Christ die in Christ, what good reason can any of them have to be afraid of death ? Can death destroy a member of Christ's mystical body, or make one miserable who is united to him, the living head? He cannot; they "die in Christ;" their bodies, therefore, are still united to him, and death to them is, and can only be, a sleep, a rest in the grave till the time that his spirit revive them again. They are his " dead men," and therefore " they shall live ; " they are his " dead body," and therefore shall they arise ; and though they should long sleep in the dust, " they shall awake and sing" when the resurrec- tion morn shall arrive, " for their dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall then cast out the dead." But this is not all ; the text assures us that those who die in the Lord are blessed from the moment of their death. And what noble encouragement is there here against the fear of death ? Surely if they are " thenceforth" blessed, Christ was with them in the conflict ; else how could they have been victorious '? Wlien they passed through the waters, he was with them, otherwise the river would have overflowed them ; when they walked through the fire, he was along with them, otherwise the flame would not only have kindled upon them, but devoured them. And who is afraid of what can do them no harm ? StiU more, who is afraid of what is known to be the means of good to them ? Since death is the way to blessedness, since it is impossible that in the blessedness that follows death, any one saint can be disappointed, let Chi'istians be no more afraid of this enemy, " as if he were ready to destroy ; for where is the fury of the oppressor ? " VII. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, as THE DEAD IN CHRIST. 483 an incitement to Christians to be " followei's of them, who through faith and patience now inherit the promises." When we have the blessed end of believers in Christ recorded by an express command, it is surely to be considered by us as a solemn charge for us "to mark the perfect man, and behold the upright." We are all going the same road ; for the end of every man is death ; and it surely ought to be the concern of every traveller Avho goes a way in which he never went before, to mark the tract in which they went who have arrived happily at the end, and to consider well the manner of conduct which they pursued, and which conduced so much to the prosperous issue of their journey. How much should we, in the case before us, be concerned to " walk in the footsteps of the flock ! " And if it be asked, in what manner did the dead, who are now blessed, walk in life, we may gather these particulars of their conduct from the preceding verse. They kept the faith of Jesus ; they exercised patience : and they kept the commandments of God. Let me incite Chris- tians to follow them who have gone to heaven in these three particulars. 1. Let us, in imitation of the saints who have gone to heaven, keep the faith of Jesus. It was by faith that they lived, by faith that they stood, by faith that they overcame. Had they made shipwreck of faith, they could not have arrived at heavenly glory. Had they not lived in faith, they could not have died in Christ. Let us then keep the faith, Let us " hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering ;" let us cleave to the Lord Jesus with full purpose of heart. In duty let us depend on him as our Almighty helper ; in danger, as our refuge and our defence. To him let us look as our Prophet, to instruct us by his word and spirit ; as our Priest, to bestow on us forgiveness through his blood ; as our King, to rule in us and over us. Let us depend on him for all salvation, and not be moved by any consideration from the hope of the gospel. " Hold fast," as ancient saints did, " that which thou hast ; let no man take thy crown." " Be thou faithful unto 484 THE spirit's testimony concerning death," as they were, " and Christ will give thee the crown of life." " Hold fast the confidence, and the rejoicing of the hope, firm unto the end." This is to improve their happi- ness, as represented in the text, to walk in the steps of their faith. 2. Let us, in imitation of them who have died in the Lord, exercise patience. It was not only through faith, but through patience, that they came to the inheritance of the promises ; and we can attain the same blessedness in no other way. " "We have," indeed, " need of patience, that, after we have done the will of God, we may receive the promise." It is through much tribulation that we must inherit the kingdom ; and we must learn to carry the cross, before we can ex- pect to wear the crown. " Let patience," therefore, " have its perfect work." Let us, " by patient continuance in well- doing, seek for glory, honour, and immortality." Let us be " patient in tribulation," that, when the end arrives, we may enjoy the reward of grace, reserved for those who suffered cheerfully for his sake, and suffering with him, are glorified together. 3. Let us, in fine, in imitation of them who have died in the Lord, Jceep the commandments of God. Holiness is the proper ornament of saints. Those who have died were sanctified, and " without holiness we cannot see the Lord." As having them for an example, we should run our race with patience, so we should also, compassed T\ath this cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight, every sinful propensity, and all ungodli- ness of conduct. "We have much to induce us to follow holiness. 'V\''e have the example of Christ, as our pattern, and the pro- mises of God as our encouragement. In a dependence on the one, let us imitate the other. " Having these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God." " He hath shown us what is good, and what doth he require of us," in consequence of this, " but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God." The more we THE DEAD IN CHRIST. 485 arc sanctified in heart and life, the nearer we approach to the character and state of the blessed dead who have died in the Lord. Vm. Write, blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, as a memento to sinners. Sinners, you need something to put you in mind of your character and danger. You are apt to forget that you are out of Christ, and in danger of hell fire. God has caused this record of the happmess of dead saints to stand in the Bible, that you may reflect on two important particulars ; how unlike you are to them, and how much reason you have to apprehend that when you die you shall not be blessed ^yith them. You are at a distance from Christ, and how can you expect blessed- ness after death, while this is your case ? " They that are far from him perish." You believe not, and " he that believeth not shall be damned." You keep not God's commandments, and " the wicked must be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God." Compare the situation of the ungodly dead, wntli that of dead saints. How great, how aT\^ul the differ- ence ! " Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord," Cursed are the dead that die out of the Lord. The dead that die in the Lox'd, rest from their labours of suffering; the ungodly dead rest not day nor night ; a new species of labour com- mences ; the labour of pain without intermission ; of torment without abatement; of sorrow without alleviation; of misery mthout end. The works of the godly follow them as evi- dences of their union to Christ, and of their title to heaven. The works of the ungodly go before them to judgment. And how awful the scene that will then open upon their distracted souls ! They shall " drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indig- nation; and shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb ; and the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever." At the hearing of this, and the comparison of it with 486 THE DEAD IN CHRIST. the happy death of the saints, who is not disposed, with Bahiam, to cry, " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my latter end be like his." But remember, such a prayer will be fruitless, unless you are also concerned to be like them in life. There is only one way of getting to heaven ; the way they got ; and that is by Christ. Seek him ; he is to be found. He is to be found now. We dare not promise you that he will be found at a futui*e time. For " Behold, now is the accepted time : Behold, now is the day of salvation." 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