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SERMONS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 jREYERENJE) GEOjRGE BUIST^ JD)« B. 
 
 MINISTER OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH 
 AND PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE 
 
 CHARLESTON, SOUTH-CAROLINA 
 
 [N TWO VOLUMT.S. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 ,YEW-YORK. 
 
 PRINTED FOR E. SARGEANT, OPrOSITE TRINIl Y CHVIU H. 
 
 Jhj J), a^ G. Bruce. 
 
 )809, 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OF VOLUME n. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 On the extraordinaiy perfections of Christ as a teacher. 
 John, chap. 7, verse A6....jyev€r man s^iake like this many 1 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 The state of humility, in wliich Christ appeared on earth, 
 perfectly fitted to the discharge of his duties as a me- 
 diator, and a source of comfort and joy to his discipies. 
 
 Mattliew, chap. 13, verse 55, 56..../* not this the carfien- 
 ter*s son ? Is not his mother called Mary ? And his 
 brethren James^ and J^ses, and Simon^ and Judas ? And 
 his sisters^ are they not all with us ? Whence then 
 hath this man all these things ? And they were offended 
 in him^ IT 
 
 SERMON III.— PART I. 
 
 The character of Christ considered under the allegory 
 of a shepherd ; his pastoM care to embrace and gather 
 in all nations to his fold. 
 
 John, chap. 10, verse 16 4nd other sheep, I have which 
 
 are not of this fold ; them also I must brings and they 
 shall hear my voice ; and there shall be one fold and 
 ene shepherdj 34 
 
iv CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON IV.— PART II. 
 
 The same subject continued, 51 
 
 SERMON v.— PART I. 
 
 On the holy sacrament of the Lord's supper. 
 Luke, chap. 22, verse \5....With desire I have desired to 
 eat this passover with you., before I suffer^ , ... 69 
 
 SERMON VL—PART II. 
 
 On the holy sacrament of the Lord's supper. 
 Luke, chap. 22, verse \5....With desire I have desired to 
 eat this jiassoverivithyouy before I suffer^ .... 90 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 On charity : the obligations, sanctions and tnotives to the 
 
 discharge of its numerous duties. 
 1 Corin. chap. 14, verse L...i^o//ow«/irer c/zanVy, . . n^ 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 On meekness: its nature and great excellence in the 
 
 sight of God, 
 Psalm 25, verse 9.,.,Thejneek will he guide in judgment ; 
 
 and the meek will he teach his ivay., 137 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 On the character of the saints ; the providence and fa- 
 vour of God peculiarly exercised towards them in the 
 hour of death. 
 
 Psalm 116, verse \6.„.Precious in the sight of the Lord 
 
 i^ the death of his saints, » . 163- 
 
CONTENTS. 1^ 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 The goodjiess and power of Christ, manifested by hi5> 
 works on earth, conclusive proofs of his divine nature. 
 
 John, chap. 9, verse 32.... Since the ivorld began was it 
 not heard that any man aliened the eyes of one that was 
 born blind^ 178 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 
 On the duty of holding the righteous in remembrance, 
 and the important advantages derived from the recol- 
 lection of their virtues. 
 
 Psalm 122, verse 6. ...The righteous shall be in everlas- 
 ting reme?nbrance-, 194 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 On tlie caution necessary to be observed in our censure 
 
 of others. 
 Matthew, chap. 7, verse \.... Judge not^ that ye be Jiot 
 
 judged, 220 
 
 SERMON XIII.— PART I. 
 
 On the divine origin of the Christian religion. 
 
 Acts, chap. 5, verse 38, o9.... Refrain from these ?nen, 
 and let them alone ; for if this council, or this work be 
 of men, it will come to nought. But if it be of God, 
 ye cannot overthrow it ; lest hazily ye be found even to 
 fight against God, 337 
 
 SERMON XIV.— PART II. 
 
 On the divine origin of the Christian religioir. 
 
vl CONTENTS. 
 
 Refrain from these men, and let them alone if or if this 
 council', or this luork be ofmen^it will come to nought. 
 But if it be God, ye cannot overth'onait ; lest haply ye 
 be found even tofght against God, 355 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 On duelling. 
 
 Putuji again thy snuord into his place ; for all they who 
 take the sword shall perish with the sword, . . . 273 
 
 MORNING AND EVENING PRAYERS 
 
 Used at the Orphan-House, Charleston, S. C. composed 
 by the Rev. Dr. Buist, for the use of the orphans in 
 that institution, ..,,... = .... 317 
 
SERMON I. 
 
 On the extraordinary perfections of Christ as a 
 teacher. 
 
 John, Chap. 7, Verse 46. 
 " Never man spake like this man." 
 
 Jesus Christ is, in every respect, the most 
 wonderful personage that ever appeared upon 
 the theatre of the world. The personal gran- 
 deur of his character, the Innocence of his 
 life, the noble generosity of his actions, the se- 
 verity of his sufferings, the sublimity and wis- 
 dom of his discourses and instructions, taken 
 either separately or in connection, have never 
 been equalled In the history of mankind. In 
 him we behold the Deity made flesh and dwel- 
 ling among men. In him we see a man, holy, 
 harmless, undcfiled, and separate from sin- 
 ners. In him we admire a great philanthro- 
 pist continually going about doing good. In 
 
 VOL. II. B 
 
2 SERMON I, 
 
 him we see a martyr suffering in the best of 
 causes and with unexampled fortitude and re- 
 signation. In him we Usten to a great teach- 
 er speaking as never man spake — declaring 
 truths of infinite importance, in a manner the 
 most admirably adapted to the understanding 
 of his hearers, with infinite wisdom and irre- 
 sistible persuasion. 
 
 Such a bright constellation of excellencies 
 dazzles the sight, and can only be viewed 
 separately and in detail. The text, (which is 
 not the language of encomium, or the pane- 
 gyric of a friend, but the confession of his 
 enemies, extorted by the irresistible force of 
 truth,) leads us to rnnslder him as a publick 
 teacher, and to point out his great superiority, 
 not only to the philosophers and orators of 
 ancient heathenism, but also to all the former 
 messengers and prophets of the Most High. 
 And the truth of the assertion of the oflficers 
 in the text will fully appear, if we consider 
 the ijiatier, the maimer, and the effect of out 
 Saviour's preachings, and shew that never man 
 spake truths of such importance — never man 
 spake in such a manner — never man spake 
 with such authoritr/ and power. 
 
 These three things constitute the excellence 
 
SERMON I. 3 
 
 of every discourse : that the matter be im- 
 portant and worthy of attention ; that the 
 manner be interesting, well adapted to the 
 subject, and suited to the hearers — and lastly, 
 that the intended effect may be produced, and 
 a due impression made on the audience. 
 
 I. The matter of our Saviour's discourses is 
 superiour to that of any other teacher either 
 heathen or Jew ; for none of them ever de- 
 clared truths of such infinite importance to the 
 world. 
 
 The subject matter of our Saviour's dis- 
 courses comprehends either such things as had 
 been handled by former teachers, or such 
 things as wtre allu^cthcr new, and of which 
 the world are indebted to him for the discov- 
 ery. Many things indeed had engaged the 
 attention of former teachers, which were alto- 
 gether below his notice, which were too tri- 
 fling to consume one moment of his precious 
 time. For this purpose came he into the 
 world, '' that he might bear witness unto the 
 ^* truth," — not to indulge in the false glosses and 
 absurd commentaries of the scribes and pha- 
 risees, the quibbles of the sophist, the vain 
 conceits of the philosopher, the profane bab- 
 blings and oppositions of science falsely so 
 
4 SERMON I. 
 
 called. The most finished compositions of 
 ancient times treat of subjects comparatively 
 mean and insignificant : the rise and fall of 
 states and empires, the debates of a faction, the 
 petty interests and competitions of the present 
 life. Jesus came with a message of infinitely 
 greater extent and importance. He was in 
 truth theoratour of the human race — his dis- 
 courses were big with the fate of all mankmd. 
 He performed a work and declared truths 
 which were devised before the foundations of 
 the earth were laid, and which reached into the 
 remotest ages of eternity. The ancient phi- 
 losophers and oratours had chiefly in view the 
 display of then own ulents, or of the powers 
 of their art. Jesus sought only to deliver 
 truths useful and instructive to his hearers. 
 Their lectures were employed in inquiring 
 into the origin of all things, in describing the 
 courses of the planets, the laws of the material 
 world, the properties of an animal or a plant. 
 Such barren speculations were foreign to the 
 design of our Saviour*s mission — he had a 
 grander and more profitable object in view, 
 even to make men wise unto salvation, to 
 teach them to be pious and virtuous and 
 happy. 
 
SERMON I. 5 
 
 Even where he happened to tread in the same 
 path with others, he improved so much upon 
 his predecessors that he is justly entitled to the 
 praise of an original. The existence and attri- 
 butes of God, for instance, had been previously 
 discussed by the Heathen philosophers and the 
 Jewish lawgiver. But none of ihem spake 
 on this subject like Jesus of Nazaretb. The 
 polytheism of the ancients ; the imperfections 
 and even shocking vices which they ascribed 
 to their imaginary deities, make them unwor- 
 thy of comparison. The errours of the heathen 
 indeed, were excluded from the Jewish sys- 
 tem. Moses taught expressly the unity of 
 God, " Hear now, O Israel, the Lord your 
 ^^ God is one Lord." But the ritual service 
 which he prescribed, represented the Deity 
 rather in a corporeal light ; the severity of his 
 laws obscured the Divine benignity ; the terrour 
 accompanying their delivery inspired fear ra- 
 ther than hope. How just and sublime were 
 the words of Jesus on this subject. ** God is 
 ** a spirit, and they that worship him must 
 *' worship him in spirit and in truth. He 
 '* maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the 
 ^* good, and sendeth rain on the just and on 
 ** the unjust. God so loved the world that he 
 
6 SERMON I. 
 
 ^' crave his only begotten Son, that whosoever 
 ^* believeth on him might not perish but have 
 " everlasting life." 
 
 The same superiority is discernible in the 
 moraUty of Jesus. How much more pure, 
 perfect, and certain than the vague specula- 
 tions of the heathen moralists ? How much 
 more extensive and universal than the cere- 
 monial system of the Jews ? Above all, how 
 much more powerful motives did he furnish 
 for the discharge of the duties which he com- 
 manded ? 
 
 Thus did Jesus improve upon every subject 
 which he handled ; thus did he far outstrip all 
 who had gone before him in what related to 
 God, to morals, and to a future life. But this 
 is not all. Many doctrines were taught by 
 the Saviour of the world which no ear had ever 
 heard and no human heart had ever conceived. 
 Among these we may rank the doctrine of his 
 own divinity ; the mystery of his own incar- 
 nation and assumption of our nature ; his ap- 
 pearance in a world overspread with misery 
 and vice, to proclaim pardon and peace in this 
 life, and everlasting happiness in the future, 
 to all who with penitent hearts and true faith 
 returned unto him ; his humiliation, sufferings 
 
SERMON I. 7 
 
 and death In our room ; his victory over death 
 by virtue of his atoning sacrifice, and lils bring- 
 ing life and immortaUty to light. These are 
 the great things of which Christ spake ; these 
 were the amazing topicks which filled his dis- 
 courses. Who ever uttered such things ? who 
 ever presumed to raise their thoughts to mys- 
 teries so grand and sublime ? Without contro- 
 versy great and unequalled is the mystery of 
 godliness : God was manifest in the flesh, 
 justified in the Spirit, seen of Angels, preached 
 unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, 
 received up into glory. 
 
 II. The manner in which our Saviour spake 
 was equally incomparable with the matter of 
 which he treated. Under this head, I do not 
 mean to assert that Jesus was a most consum- 
 mate oratour in the common acceptation of the 
 word ; that he was a perfect master of the 
 rules of art ; and that he knew how to employ 
 to the best advantage the various tropes and 
 figures of rhetorick. Were it indeed a circum- 
 stance of much importance, or in which there 
 was room for exultation, it would be easy to 
 shew that the sacred writings afford specimens 
 altogether unrivalled in every species of com- 
 position. 
 
8 SERMON 1. 
 
 But Jesus, though he had formed the mind 
 of man, and knew every human art and science 
 better than the most enhghtened oratour or phi- 
 losopher, yet he used not the arts of eloquence 
 and the flowers of hmguage as necessary aids 
 to his instruction. He spake with a simphcity, 
 gravity, and dignity well suited to the character 
 of the speaker, to the nature of the doctrines, 
 and to the capacity of his hearers. He did 
 not deliver his doctrines, at once, in an abstract, 
 systematick manner, and then set about to ex- 
 plain, defend and support them. His sublime 
 system was not delivered in the gross, but 
 gradually unfolded in proportion to the state 
 of preparation in which he found the minds of 
 his disciples or of the multitude. His sermons 
 were not the effect of previous study, but arose 
 from the incidents and occurrences of his life* 
 His discourses were not delivered on set occa- 
 sions, but as opportunity offered, and no oppor- 
 tunity did he ever neglect of instilling know- 
 ledge and heavenly wisdom into his hearers. 
 None who wished to hear the wisdom of Jesus 
 were ever disappointed. Many who came 
 with a captious intention, and from motives of 
 curiosity, went away edified and improved. 
 No particular place was appointed for the de- 
 
SERMON I. 9 
 
 livery of his instructions. He lifted up his 
 voice in the temple and in the desert ; in the 
 city and in the field. He ever sought out the 
 lost sheep in his wanderings, dragged the 
 wretched from his miserable haunt, conversed 
 with publicans and sinners, practised every 
 species of condescension for the benefit of 
 mankind, and insinuated himself into the 
 good opinion of all, that, happily, some might 
 be gained. 
 
 The method which our Saviour generally 
 followed in his instructions, was that of parable 
 or allegory ; in which the speaker, by an allu- 
 sion to sensible objects, or by some natural 
 story, conveys to the mind of the hearer moral 
 and spiritual instruction. This was a method 
 of instruction extremely common among the 
 oriental nations, and it was attended with the 
 peculiar advantage of impressing the truth 
 deeply upon the mind, and of facilitating the 
 recollection of it. What propriety, beauty 
 and force are discernible in all the parables 
 and allegories of Jesus ! No writing, ancient 
 or modern, can produce any thing worthy to 
 be compared with the parable of the sower and 
 his seed ; the allegory of the marriage supper ; 
 the histories of the prodigal son and the good 
 
 VOL, II. c 
 
10 SERMON L 
 
 Samaritan. With Jesus no occurrence of life 
 passed away unimproved ; there was no sur- 
 rounding object that did not afford him an 
 occasion of uttering something to instruct, re- 
 prove, comtori or encourage his hearers. The 
 lilies of the field which grew under his feet, 
 and the birds of heaven which flew over his 
 head, led him to remind his disciples of the 
 paternal care and protection of their heavenly- 
 Father. The barren fig-tree led him to cau- 
 tion his disciples against the neglect and abuse 
 of their talents. The different kinds of fruit, 
 and the value put upon ihem, suggested to 
 his mind that rule of equity which judges every 
 man according to his works. When present 
 at the feast of the passovcr, he took occasion, 
 from the objects at that time familiar to the 
 people, to point out to them that true bread of 
 life, and that living w^ater, of which whosoever 
 eateth and drinketh shall never hunger or thirst 
 any more. The sea-side, which he often fre- 
 quented, and the former employment of some 
 of his disciples, afforded emblems, extremely 
 fit and proper, for representing the nature of 
 that mission on which they were sent. The 
 great Increase of so small a grain as mustard- 
 seed, suggested the rapid advancement of his 
 
SERMON I. il 
 
 kingdom from such small beginnings as the 
 world then saw before them, and the spreading 
 of his doctrines to the uttermost ends of the 
 earth. 
 
 But to multiply particular instances of this 
 mode of teaching, would be endless. I shall 
 only add, that, it is infinitely superiour in 
 beauty and effect to the most studied refine- 
 ment, and the most scrupulous observance of 
 rules. A comparison will render this perfectly 
 obvious. In discoursing of a particular provi- 
 dence, and the folly of anxiety about futurity, 
 the reasoner of this world would thus address 
 his hearers, in the terms of art and according to 
 the rules of logick : " All anxiety about futu- 
 ^' rity is unnecessary and ill-founded. A wise, 
 '* omnipotent, and benevolent being will not 
 *' forget that creature to which he has been 
 *' pleased to give existence, or refuse an incon- 
 *^ siderable favour, after he has conferred 
 *' others so important. Is it not obvious that 
 ^' the animal creation, which are incapable of 
 ** foresight, are yet provided for by the bounty 
 *' of heaven ; and that many vegetable pro- 
 '' ductions, which are destitute of motion, and 
 *' incapable of exertion, are yet more splen- 
 '^ didly adorned than the most lofty monarchs ? 
 
1^ SERMON I. 
 
 *^ If such care is taken of the inferiour crea- 
 '' tures, it is a just and obvious inference that 
 *' a wise and just being, who values every thing 
 *' in proportion to its true worth, will bestow 
 " much more attention upon the first of his 
 " creatures on this globe.'* 
 
 All this is very fine ; but it requires little 
 skill in criticism, indeed it requires only an 
 unprejudiced mmd, to perc^rive its great inferi- 
 ority, and its insipidity, when compared w^ilh 
 the beautiful discourse of Jesus on the same 
 subject : '* Therefore I say unto you, take no 
 *^ thought for your life, what ye shall eat or 
 '^ what ye shall drink ; nor yet for your body, 
 '' what ye shall put on. Is not the life more 
 *< than the meat, and the body than the rai- 
 " ment ? Behold the fowls of the air; for they 
 '* sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather 
 '^ into barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth 
 <* them : are ye not much better than they I 
 <' Which of you by taking thought can add 
 '' one cubit unto his stature? and why take 
 '« ye thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies 
 *' of the field, how they grow ; they toil not 
 '* neither do they spin ; and yet I say unto 
 '' you, that even Solomon in all his glory was 
 '' not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore,. 
 
SERMON I. 13 
 
 *^ if God so clothe the grass of the field, 
 *' which to day is, and to-morrow is cast into 
 *' the oven, shall he not much more clothe 
 '' you, Oye of little faith."* 
 
 III. Thirdly. Never man spake with such 
 authority and power as Jesus of Nazareth, 
 Former teachers advanced what they taught 
 with much uncertainty, frequently as mere 
 conjecture, in the way of speculation, and for 
 the sake of debate ; Jesus taught mankind with- 
 out any degree of doubt and hesitation, with the 
 air of one who knew the truth of what he said, 
 and who was perfectly assured of all that he 
 spake. " Verily, verily I say unto thee, we 
 ** speak that we do know, and testify that we 
 ** have seen." Former messengers merely 
 delivered what they had received, and spoke 
 as coming from another. Jesus delivered his 
 doctrine in his own name, and supported it by 
 his own authority. I say unto you was the 
 form in which he introduced his precepts and 
 instructions. • 
 
 The effect of his preaching corresponded 
 with the power and energy with which he 
 spoke. Nothing could resist his divine elo- 
 
 * Matthew, chap. vi. verse 25. 30. 
 
14 SERMON I. 
 
 quence. His friends were persuaded, his 
 enemies were confounded, and all wondered 
 at the gracious words which proceeded out of 
 his mouth. In the language of ancient pro- 
 phecy *' he made the crooked places straight, 
 ** he broke in pieces the gates of brass and 
 '' cut in sunder the bars of iron/' Very- 
 early did he give proofs of the power with 
 which he spake ; for at the age of twelve 
 years, he reasoned with the doctors in the 
 temple, to such effect, that all who heard him 
 were astonished at his understanding and 
 answers. The first discourse which he de- 
 livered to the world, after entering upon his 
 publick office, was no less effectual than sub- 
 lime. ** It came to pass, we are told, when 
 ** Jesus had ended these sayings, the people 
 ^* were astonished at his doctrine, for he 
 " taught them as one having authority, and 
 ** not as the scribes." 
 
 It was the same energetick eloquence that 
 confounded the officers who had been sent to 
 apprehend Jesus, and drew from them the 
 confession in the text, '' that never man 
 ** spake like this man." Though armed, 
 and invested with a legal commission they 
 shrunk back at his discourse, and were afraid 
 
SERMON I. Id 
 
 to lay hands upon him or to do liim any 
 harm. A word or a look from him produ- 
 ced a much greater effect than the most elo- 
 quent discourses from the tongue of another. 
 This we can only account for from the inti- 
 mate knowledge which, as God, he had of the 
 human character. He knew what was in 
 man, he traced the silent current of thought 
 as it rose in the mind ; he saw the most 
 secret designs of those with whom he con- 
 versed ; he was intimately acquainted with 
 the workings of the several passions, and how 
 they were to be moved and actuated. And 
 what resistance, do we imagine, could be 
 made to a speaker who had the hearts of all 
 men in his hands, and could turn them whi- 
 thersoever he would ? What effect, indeed, is 
 still produced in the ordinary preaching of 
 the word, when Jesus speaks by his spirit to 
 the hearts and consciences of men ? The 
 gospel then becomes a two-edged sword, 
 sharp and piercing, dividing between the 
 joints and marrow, reaching to the thoughts 
 and intentions of the heart. 
 
 I have given you but a very imperfect 
 sketch of the superiour excellency of Jesus as 
 a preacher. But enough has been said to 
 
16 SERMON I. 
 
 render the pious and well-disposed grateful to 
 God, who has favoured the world with so 
 admirable an instructor. Enough has been 
 said to make us esteem and value the Christian 
 system, and to search the scriptures which 
 contain the words of eternal life, the sublime 
 doctrines of which we have been speaking. 
 Enough has been said to make every good 
 man reverence and obey the precepts of him, 
 ** who spoke as never man spake/' 
 
17 
 
 SERMON IL 
 
 The state of humility/, in which Christ appeared 
 on earthy perfectly fitted to the discharge of 
 his duties as a mediator, and a source of 
 comfort and joy to his disciples. 
 
 Matthew, Chap. xiii. Verse 35, 56. 
 
 ^'* Is not this the carpenter's son ? Is hot his mother called 
 Mary ? And his brethren James, and Joses, and Simon, and 
 Judas ? And his sisters, are they not all with us ? Whence 
 then hath this man all these tilings ? And they were offen- 
 ded in him." 
 
 A PROPHET is not without honour, save in 
 his own country. Recollection of his early 
 life, familiar acquaintance with his relations 
 and friends^ envy at his success, and the mean 
 jealousy of those around him, that one taken 
 from among themselves should form great 
 pretensions and aspire to superiour eminence, 
 all conspire to check his rising greatness, and 
 to rob him of that respect to which his merits 
 might seem to entitle him. In no instance 
 
 Vol.. IT, D 
 
18 SERMON II. 
 
 has this been so fully verified as in the case of 
 our Saviour. Though chosen of God the 
 chief corner stone, yet v^as he despised and 
 rejected by the foolish builders of this world. 
 His neighbours w^ere offended at the fame of 
 his superiour merit, and thought that it did not 
 exist because they could not account for it. 
 The great and proud were offended at the 
 meanness of his descent, and could not possi- 
 bly condescend to receive instruction from him 
 whose father and mother and brothers and sis- 
 ters they all knew, and saw occupying the 
 lowest and least honourable stations in life. — 
 The whole Jewish nation, deluded by their 
 mistaken expectation of a temporal Saviour, 
 were offended at his humble appearance, so 
 destitute of pomp and show, so ill calculated 
 to draw the attention of the multitude^ or gain 
 adherents by means of authority and power. 
 In short, the sufferings and persecutions which 
 he endured, the ignominious death which he 
 at last suffered, formed an insurmountable 
 stumbling-block of offence, and completed 
 their conviction, that a person so meanly de- 
 scended, placed in so low a station, and so 
 persecuted and despised, could not be the 
 
SERMON II. 19 
 
 messenger of heaven, nor the Saviour of man- 
 kind. 
 
 Yet if we analyze this celebrated objection, 
 we find it to be merely a compound of envy, 
 pride and ignorance. Had not the neighbours 
 of Jesus been blinded by envy, they would 
 have reasoned in a very diiferent manner, and, 
 instead of being offended at him, because they 
 could not tell whence he had all the wonder- 
 ful gifts of which they saw him possessed, they 
 would have said, *' With this man's birth, ed- 
 " ucation, and fortune we are well acquainted. 
 ** It is impossible that he should do those things 
 ** which we see and hear, by any skill of his 
 *' own; he has had no opportunities of instruction 
 '* in those sublime truths which he delivers — 
 *^ to him the stores of learning and science have 
 *' never been opened . It is evident, therefore, 
 " that he is taught from on high ; that he is en- 
 " dowed with supernatural and divine power, 
 " for no man could work the works which he 
 " hath wrought, unless thefatherhadsenthim.'' 
 
 Had not the rulers and pharisecs been puf- 
 fed up with pride and vain glory, they would 
 have listened to the voice of truth, from what- 
 ever quarter it proceeded ; they would have 
 been more attentive to it, as proceeding from 
 
20 SERMON II. 
 
 a quarter from which they least expected it ; 
 they would have acknowledged that true worth 
 is confined to no one situation of life ; that th^ 
 greater the disproportion between the instru- 
 ment and the work, the more certain an indi- 
 cation does it afford of the interference of 
 God, wlio frequently chooses the weak things 
 of this world to confound the things which are 
 mighty, and base things of the world, and 
 things which are despised, and things which 
 are not, to bring to nought things which are. 
 
 In short, they were ignorant of the true 
 character of the divine ways, of the predic- 
 tions concerning the Messiah, of the great 
 ends of our Saviour's appearance, or they 
 would have perceived that it was necessary that 
 the Captain of our salvation should be made 
 perfect through sufferings, and should under- 
 go humiliation before he could enter into his 
 glory. 
 
 1 . The divine ways are not as our ways, and 
 we shall certainly err if we apply the same 
 reasoning to both. The weakness of man 
 renders necessary a long train of vain ceremo- 
 nies, and requires much pomp and parade to 
 hide it from the view of others. A prince 
 clothes his ambassadours with ail the trappings 
 
SERMON II. 21 
 
 of state, and all the pageantry of office, in or- 
 der to inspire men with awe and reverence for 
 what might otherwise be entitled to no re- 
 spect. A greater share of inherent dignity 
 and power would render unnecessary all this 
 external pomp and grandeur. For as true 
 beauty when unadorned is most conspicuous, 
 so real merit shines forth with greatest lustre 
 in the humblest state. The meanness of our 
 Saviour's appearance, instead of detracting 
 from the majesty and glory of God, as if an 
 ambassadour so humble and unattended, were 
 unworthy of so great a sovereign, is thus a 
 proof of the contrary ; and is of a piece with 
 all the other works of God. He who said at 
 first, " Let there be light, and there was light" 
 — at whose presence Jordan fled back ; who 
 declared, '* I will, be thou clean" — the same 
 it was who determined to save the world by 
 weak, and in the eye of human reason, incom- 
 petent instruments : by the agency of a poor, 
 humble and despised Nazarene. In this re- 
 spect it truly might be said, that the foolish- 
 ness of God is wiser than men ; and the weak- 
 ness of God, stronger than men. For though 
 no outward beauty shone in our Saviour to 
 draw the carnal eye, though there was in him 
 
iiij SERMON IL 
 
 no form nor comeliness for which he should 
 be desired ; yet still we behold in him such 
 marks of greatness and power as throw into the 
 shade all the little efforts of human vanity and 
 pride, to gain the attention and applause of the 
 world. Doth not the meek and humble Sa- 
 viour of mankind, who healed the sick, raised 
 the dead, and stilled the stormy wave, appear 
 in the eye of unprejudiced reason, infinitely 
 greater and more exalted, even though clothed 
 in poverty, than the mightiest monarch of the 
 earth surrounded with his attendants and cour- 
 tiers, or the greatest conquerour at the head of 
 his victorious army. All human glory fades 
 away when compared with that heavenly glo- 
 ly which is everlasting. 
 
 2. It was, further, necessary that the Sa- 
 viour of men should appear in a low and hum- 
 ble state, that he might fulfil the predictions 
 delivered concerning him by the prophets. 
 Nothing can be more evident than that the 
 Messiah promised to the fathers, was foretold 
 as one whose first appearance was to be accom- 
 panied by poverty, distress and suffering. Glo- 
 rious things were indeed told of him, but these 
 things were to be preceded by a state of hu- 
 miliation and abasement. He was not to be 
 
SERMON II. ^ 
 
 born of a great and noble family, but was to 
 grow up as a tender plant, and as a root out of 
 a dry ground. Instead of enjoying the hon- 
 ours, riches and pleasures of this world, he 
 was to be oppressed and afflicted, despised and 
 rejected of men ; a man of sorrows and ac- 
 quainted with grief. He was not to exercise 
 temporal dominion, and hold all the nations of 
 the earth subject to him ; but was to be taken 
 from prison and from judgment, and to be cut 
 off out of the land of the living. The Jews 
 therefore, instead of being offended at Jesus, 
 for his mean birth and humble station, ought 
 to have acknowledged the fulfilment of the 
 prredictions concerning him, and to have said, 
 truly, this is the Messiah promised to our fa- 
 thers. In him all the enigmas and apparent 
 contradictions of the prophets are explained 
 and reconciled . The wonderful works which 
 he performs, the sublime truths which issue 
 from his lips, the meekness and innocence of 
 his conduct, the spiritual dominion which he 
 exercises over the hearts of men, all these 
 declare him to be the wonderful, the 
 COUNSELLOR, the mighty God, the ever- 
 lasting Father, the Prince of peace, of the in- 
 crease of whose government there shall be no 
 
24 SERMON II. 
 
 end ; and who, in a moral sense, shall sit up- 
 on the throne of David, and upon his king- 
 dom to order it, and to establisli it, with judg- 
 ment and with justice, from henceforth even 
 for ever. And on the other hand, the abject 
 condition in which he appears, the reproach, 
 persecution and suffering to which he is expo- 
 sed, clearly announce that he is no other than 
 him whose visage, it was foretold, was to be 
 marred more than any man, and his form 
 more than the sons of men. The wise and 
 discerning, had Christ appeared in any other 
 than a humble and suffering condition, would 
 have had good reason to consider him as an 
 impostor, whose character and appearance did 
 not correspond with what had been predicted 
 of him in the writings of the prophets. 
 
 3. But the propriety of our Saviour's ap- 
 pearing in a humble and suffering state, will 
 be fartlier evident if we consider him as the 
 authour and teacher of a new religion. His 
 weakness and sufferings demonstrate the in- 
 trinsick excellence and divine authority of his 
 doctrines. He could not be an impostor who 
 gained nothing himself by his labours but 
 ignominy and persecution. He was very un- 
 likely to impose upon others ; he, whose sil- 
 
SERMON II. 25 
 
 Liation far from commanding respect was more 
 calculated to create contempt, who had no 
 visible power to enforce his laws and no ap- 
 parent reward to bestow upon his followers. 
 The heathen religions were invented or taught 
 by princes and emperours, whose authority 
 gained adherents to a system of absurdity and 
 superstition, who allured some by the hope of 
 reward, and terrified others by the fear of pun- 
 ishment, into a belief at which their unbiassed 
 reason revolted. And had our Saviour ap- 
 peared in all that temporal splendour and au* 
 thority which the Jews expected, and which 
 the men of this world seem to desire, long 
 ere now would we have been told, that our 
 religion was merely an engine of state, was 
 propagated by force, and believed from necessi- 
 ty, not conviction. Instead of asking, is not this 
 the carpenter's son ? Are not these men of the 
 sect of the Nazarenes? This is he, they would 
 have said, whose triumphs filled the world 
 with widows and with orphans ; who dragged 
 the unwilling proselytes of his religion .captive 
 at the wheels of his chariot, and compelled 
 the world by violence to accept his absurd sys-* 
 tem of superstition. Would not the inacces- 
 sible greatness and tyrannical power of such 
 
 VOL. IT E 
 
26 SERMON II. 
 
 a teacher, have given greater and more just 
 cause of offence than the poverty and humi- 
 lity of our Redeemer can now do ? Would not 
 the proud minions of the conquerour's court, 
 enriched by the spoils of the poor and the nee- 
 dy, have been more abhorred than the hand- 
 maid Mary, and Christ's simple brethren, 
 James and Joses and Simon and Judas were 
 despised ? Would not the sword have been a 
 greater stumbling block than the cross, and 
 have been an unequivocal proof that our re- 
 ligion was of man and not of God? The hu- 
 miliation of our Saviour is thus a proof to man- 
 kind in every age of the excellence of his 
 doctrines, of the certainty of their evidence, 
 alid that they are not a contrivance of human 
 policy, imposed on men by undue influence. 
 4. The propriety and necessity of our Sa- 
 viours appearing in an humble and suffering 
 state must be still more evident, if we con- 
 sider him as exhibiting a pattern for the imi- 
 tation of mankind. He came into the world 
 not only to bear witness unto the truth, and 
 to teach mankind their duty, but also to leave 
 us an example that we might follow his steps. 
 And this example was not to be limited to one 
 class of men, or one condition of life, but was 
 
SERMON II. 27 
 
 intended to be universally useful, and fitted to 
 the case of the poor as well as of the rich, and 
 to the dark hour of adversity and suffering as 
 well as to the gayer scenes of prosperity and 
 enjoyment. From this it follows, that, our Sa- 
 viour's situation in life must be that which is 
 the general lot of humanity. And who is 
 ignorant, that, while a few are favoured with 
 the gifts of fortune and the sunshine of pros- 
 perity, the great bulk of mankind, the un- 
 counted millions of the human race, are 
 doomed to perpetual poverty, obscurity and 
 wretchedness? That while a few moments of 
 our life are alloted to enjoyment the greater 
 portion of our days is appropriated to labour 
 and suffering? Had Jesus Christ appeared in 
 a state of great temporal prosperity, as a 
 prince or an emperour, the histoiy of his life 
 might have dazzled the fancy and attracted 
 the admiration of mankind, but would have 
 been of very limited use as a general pattern 
 of conduct. It would have served for the im- 
 itation of the few, the very few, who might 
 be his equals in rank and condition, but what 
 lessons could the poor and the wretched have 
 derived from it? Would his contentment in 
 the midst of plenty calm the anxiety of their 
 
Q8 SERMON II. 
 
 minds when threatened with want and ruin ? 
 Would his confidence in the hour of success 
 inspire them with fortitude when ready to be 
 overwhelmed with calamities and opposition ? 
 Would his serenity and possession of soul in 
 the midst of enjoyment, and surrounded with 
 applause, teach them patience when expo- 
 sed to suffering and reproach ? But while the 
 example of Jesus Christ, had he been placed 
 in an elevated station far above the generality 
 of mankind, would have given little or no 
 light except to the few who approached near- 
 er to his own level, the low and suffering 
 condition in which he appeared renders his 
 exar^iple universally useful, and pregnant with 
 instruction and comfort to men of all ranks 
 and all characters. To the rich it exhibits a 
 striking pattern of humility, moderation, self- 
 denial and a contempt of the world. To the 
 poor, every virtue suitable to their condition, 
 is preached in the most effectual manner : 
 contentment, industry, patience, meekness, 
 forgiveness of injuries, fortitude in danger 
 and superiority to temptation. Well might 
 the carpenter's son, the despised Nazarene, 
 say *'learn of me for I am meek and lowly 
 ^^ in heart/' 
 
SERMON IL 29 
 
 The humble appearance of Jesus not only- 
 rendered his life a pattern of such virtues as 
 were useful for the imitation of mankind, but 
 even displayed his virtues w'lih greater lustre. 
 The light of virtue always shines brightest in 
 the night of affliction. It is in the school of 
 adversity that the best lessons are acquired. 
 The path of suffering has ever been the road 
 to honour. In the field of danger the noblest 
 laurels are reaped. Who are the the charac- 
 ters that have attracted the admiration of the 
 world, and have been held forth as patterns 
 for the imitation of future ages ? Not they 
 who have been born in affluence, who have 
 been nurtured in the lap of prosperity, who 
 have spent their days in ease and indolence : 
 but they who after passing their youth in ob- 
 scurity and amid hardships, who after strug- 
 gling with fortitude against the evils of life, 
 have, through their own merit, risen superi- 
 our to the disadvantages of fortune and situa- 
 tion, and exhibited that perfection of charac- 
 ter, which the school of adversity alone can 
 produce; which men are ambitious to imitate, 
 and God himself beholds with complacency. 
 In like manner the Captain of our salvation, 
 the authour and finisher of our faith, was 
 
30 SERMON Ih 
 
 made perfect through siifFerings. And ha- 
 ving learned obedience by the things which 
 he suffered he is now highly exalted and 
 crowned with glory and honour ; a glory 
 which is exceedingly increased by compari- 
 son with his former state of humiliation and 
 abasement. 
 
 5. The humiliation of our Saviour was ab- 
 solutely necessary in order to the discharge 
 of his niediatorial office: whether we consi- 
 der him as the substitute or the intercessor of 
 sinners. 
 
 The penalty threatened against sin was 
 death ; which included not only the separa- 
 tion of soul and body, but also the various 
 temporal evils ; such as pain, disease and 
 want, which since the commission of sin, 
 have fallen upon our race. To deliver man- 
 kind from this dreadful sentence was the end 
 for which a Saviour was appointed. The 
 very name of our Lord implied this; 'Uhou 
 *^shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save 
 *Miis people from their sins.'' This being 
 the end of his coming into the world, it was 
 indispensably requisite that he should appear 
 in a suffering and not in a triumphant state ; 
 that he should humble himself, and be found 
 
SERMON ir. 51 
 
 In fashion as a man, and become obedient un- 
 to death. For all the attributes of deity re- 
 quired to be vindicated by such a procedure. 
 Justice declared that the sinner could not es- 
 cape unless the punishment due to his oft'ence 
 was endured either by himself or by a substi- 
 tute ; and therefore the substitute must en- 
 dure all the pains and miseries of this life and 
 at last undergo the sentence of death denoun- 
 ced against sin. The holiness of God requi- 
 red that he should testify his hatred and indig- 
 nation against sin, in the most striking man- 
 ner. The divine wisdom saw it proper to hold 
 forth to all his subjects an awful example of 
 the evil consequences of transgression. There- 
 ford did he send his only begotten and well 
 beloved Son into these regions of pain and 
 misery, in a condition which ill accorded with 
 that glory which he had with him before the 
 world was. For this cause did Jesus leave the 
 abodes of happiness, to become a man of sor- 
 rows and acquainted with grief. For this cause 
 did he lead a life of poverty and distress, re- 
 proach and persecution, and at last submit to 
 a painful, an accursed and an ignominious 
 death upon the cross. But being thus made 
 perfect through sufferings, iic is become the 
 
32 SERMON II. 
 
 authour of eternal salvation to all those who 
 are sanctified. By this humiliation he has 
 procured what could not have been obtained 
 by an act of power and authority. He has 
 satisfied the divine justice, and expiated the 
 guilt of sin. He has vindicated the holiness 
 of God and made honourable the law. 
 He has exhibited an awful proof of the evil 
 nature of sin, which could not be blotted 
 out without so costly a sacrifice as the humili- 
 ation, sufferings, and death of the beloved Son 
 of God. 
 
 In a word, the humiliation and sufferings of 
 Christ were necessary in order to the due dis- 
 charge of that part of his priestly office which 
 consists in interceding for sinners. The rea- 
 soning of St. Paul on this subject, wdll render 
 every other unnecessary. *^ Every high- 
 *' priest taken from among men, he tells us, 
 " must be such as can have compassion on the 
 '^ ignorant and on them that are out of the 
 " way, for that he himself also is compassed 
 ** with infirmity. For as much then as the 
 <* children are partakers of flesh and blood, 
 *^ Christ also took part of the same. For it be- 
 '' hoved him to be made in all thnigslike un- 
 '' to his brethren, that he might be a merciful 
 
SERMON IL 33 
 
 *' and faithful high priest, and that having suf- 
 *' fered being tempted he might be able and 
 " wilHng to succcour them that are tempted/* 
 Ought then the humble, afflicted and suffer- 
 ing condition in which our Saviour appeared 
 to excite shame or regret? Ought it not rather 
 to administer consolation, when we reflect, 
 that, we have not an high priest who cannot 
 be touched with a fellow-feeling of our infir- 
 mities, but was in all points tempted like as 
 we are; that, ""he who holds in his hands the 
 sceptre of the universe, and intercedes for us 
 with his father, once appeared in our nature, 
 and sojourned among us; that, in the days 
 of his flesh, he offered up prayers and sup- 
 plications with bitter crying and tears ; that, 
 he was subjected to the pains, diseases and 
 infirmites of life, and even experienced the 
 horrours of death and the grave. What as- 
 surance does not this give us that our wants 
 and desires are well known to him ; that he 
 sympathizes with all our sorrows, and that he 
 will at all times grant us a speedy relief? With 
 what confidence may we now approach unto 
 a throne of grace, knowing that through the 
 intercession of our compassionate high priest, 
 we shall obtain mercy, and iind grace ro help 
 in time of need ! 
 
 VOL. IJ. F 
 
SERMON III 
 
 PART I. 
 
 The character of Christ considered under the 
 allegory of a Shepherd ; his pastoral care to 
 embrace and gather in all nations to his fold. 
 
 John. Chap. 10, Verse 16. 
 
 ••' And other sheep I have which are not of this fold ; them 
 also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice ; and there 
 shall be one fold and one shepherd.'* 
 
 Jesus Christ is the sum and substance of the 
 gospel. To describe his offices, to deUneate 
 his character, and to display his excellence, 
 seems to be the great object of every inspired 
 writer. Nature and art have been exhausted 
 for images to represent his personal dignity and 
 glory. He has been styled the sun of right- 
 eousness, the bright and the morning star, a 
 covert from the tempest and the shadow of a 
 rock in a weary land; a fortress and a strong 
 tower ; a rock ; a precious corner stone ; a 
 
SERMON III. 35 
 
 tree of life; the bread of life, and a well of 
 water springing up into everlasting life. To 
 represent the near and endearing relation in 
 which he stands to his followers; to show the 
 care which he takes of them, and the benefits 
 which they derive from him, every relation 
 known among men, every office of dignity and 
 respect, have been employed. Whatever be 
 the situation of his followers, however manifold 
 and great their wants and necessities, they will 
 find in him something suited to their several 
 cases and desires ; they will be supplied with 
 grace sufficient for them in every vicissitude 
 of Life. If misled by errour, or involved in 
 ignorance, he is their prophet to instruct, en- 
 lighten and guide them. If guilty and alien- 
 ated from God, he is their priest to atone for, 
 and to expiate their offences. If lawless and 
 disobedient, he is their king to subdue them 
 unto himself, to teach them his laws, and to 
 reward their obedience. If oppressed with 
 sickness and sorrow, he is their physician to 
 heal and relieve them. If terrified by the 
 threatenings of the law and the accusations of 
 their own conscience, he is their advocate and 
 intercessor with the Father. When held in 
 l^ondage by Sin and -Satan he is their redee- 
 
a6 ' SERMON IIL 
 
 mer to pay their ransom and procure their 
 deUverance. If beset with dangers, and sur- 
 rounded with enemies, he is the captain of 
 their salvation, under whose banners they 
 shall go forth to victory and to conquest. In 
 short, he is tlieir father, their elder brother, 
 their friend and their husband. 
 
 But throughout the whole scripture, of 
 which the language is so highly figurative, no 
 metaphor is more beautiful and natural, more 
 frequently repeated, more finely wrought, 
 more descriptive of the thing signified, than 
 that which represents our Saviour as a shep- 
 herd, his people as his flock, and the visible 
 church as his sheep-fold. 
 
 In the writings of every people, we find 
 frequent allusions to their peculiar manners 
 and customs, to the natural productions of the 
 soil and climate, to the external face of the 
 country, as diversified with hills and valleys^ 
 woods, and lakes, and rivers ; and to the va- 
 rious appearances presented by the heavens 
 and the earth at difierent seasons of the year. 
 To understand, therefore, and to relish the 
 beauties of any writer due attention must be 
 paid to the nature of the country where he lived, 
 and the state of society at the time when he 
 
SERMON III. SI 
 
 wrote. Without this the finest and most ex- 
 pressive imagery will produce no effect on 
 the mind, but will be deemed barren and un- 
 entertaining. In no instance is this truth 
 more obvious than in the writings of the an- 
 cient Jews, more especially the poetical and 
 prophetical books of the Old Testament. To 
 a person acquainted with the manners, cus- 
 toms and opinions only of modern times ; who 
 judges of works of fancy and inspiration by 
 the cold rules of criticism; who has no idea 
 of a country or state of society different from 
 his own, no force or beauty will appear in 
 these writings : on the contrary, the simple 
 narrative of the historian will seem rude and 
 barbarous, the sublime imagery of the poets 
 to be rhapsody and bombast, and the enigma- 
 tical predictions of the prophets to be unintel- 
 ligible jargon. But whoever reads the scrip- 
 tures with the eye of an enlightened critick, 
 making at the same time proper allowance for 
 the simplicity of ancient manners and cus- 
 toms, for the peculiar rites and institutions of 
 the Jews, for the bold and figurative style of 
 writing prevalent among all eastern nations, 
 will discern a beauty and sublimity in the sa- 
 cred books far superiour to the best human 
 compositions. 
 
38 SERMON III. 
 
 The Jewish nation, in the early period of 
 their history, though distinguished by the 
 divine favour, and enhghtened by revelation, 
 were still in a rude and uncultivated state, as 
 far as regarded civil society. Even in the 
 days of David, they had scarcely advanced 
 farther than the state of shepherds and hus- 
 bandmen. Arts, manufactures and com- 
 merce, began to flourish in a later period. 
 Their flocks and herds constituted their riches. 
 Milk and honey were the terms which con- 
 veyed to them the idea of plenty and fertihty. 
 To tend the flocks and herds was the honour- 
 able employment of princes and nobles; and 
 the greatest king, the sublimest writer, and the 
 the best man which this or perhaps any other 
 nation ever saw, was taken from the sheep- 
 folds and from following the ewes *' great 
 ^* with young.'' From this circumstance It 
 undoubtedly arises that the sacred writings 
 abound so much with images borrowed from 
 the pastoral life. For In whatever stage of 
 society a nation commences It's literary ca- 
 reer, the future style of writing will always 
 retain a resemblance to the original model. 
 The manners and customs may change, the 
 taste may improve, but the national autjiours 
 
SERMON III. 39 
 
 will, from habit and imitation, still employ 
 similar images and expressions to those which 
 were invented by the first composers. Hence 
 we find our Lord and his apostles, (who liv- 
 ed in a very different state of society from 
 that in which the psalmist composed that ad- 
 mirable pastoral the 23d psalm, and Isaiah 
 uttered his sublime predictions concerning the 
 great Shepherd of the flock) illustrating moral 
 and spiritual ideas by the very same sensible 
 images. 
 
 The beginning of that chapter which I 
 have now read, contains a beautiful allegorical 
 description of the relation subsisting between 
 Jesus and his followers. The weak, helpless, 
 blind, and wandering state of man by nature, 
 and even while the work of sanctification is 
 incomplete, is well represented under the 
 notion of sheep without a shepherd. And 
 the restoration, nourishment, guidance, pro- 
 tection and comfort which we derive from 
 Christ are equally well expressed by that 
 care which a shepherd exercises with regard to 
 the sheep of his pasture. I mean not to de- 
 form this beautiful allegory, by pushing the 
 comparison too far, but, as it is a favourite 
 miagQ with the sacred writers, as the ideas it 
 
40 SERMON III. 
 
 suggests to the mind are tender, affecting and 
 comfortable, as, consequently, it will eluci- 
 date the scripture language, and impress up- 
 on our hearts a deep sense of the ties and rela- 
 tions by which we are bound to our Redeemer. 
 1 cannot, but deem it deserving of your atten- 
 tion: 
 
 T. To consider the character of Christ as a 
 shepherd, and illustrate the language of scrip- 
 ture on that subject. 
 
 II. To inquire who are those other sheep, 
 whom Jesus says in the text he must bring in? 
 
 III. To consider the happy effects which 
 would result from bringing in those other 
 sheep; *' there would be one fold, and one 
 " shepherd.'* 
 
 1. The situation and character of sheep re- 
 present, in a striking and lively manner, the 
 situation and character of mankind. Like 
 sheep in a pasture we are placed in this world, 
 in the midst of every thing which can contri- 
 bute to our happiness, by a beneficent Creator, 
 whose property we are, whose pasture we eat, 
 on whose bounty we live, to whose will and 
 pleasure we are wholly subservient. iVs sheep 
 annually repay their keeper's care and atten- 
 tion by the fruit of their substance, and by 
 
SERMON III. 41 
 
 sparing a part of their own covering for their 
 owner's clothing and defence, so we, who are 
 the people of God's flock, should, in token of 
 those obligations which we are under, dedicate 
 to him ourselves, our talents, and our substance. 
 As sheep are led to the slaughter, and doomed 
 to bleed for their owner's convenience or hix- 
 ury, so we, like sheep, are laid in the grave, 
 and become the prey of worms which riot 
 over us in the tomb. No animal is more timid 
 and helpless, or has more enemies than the 
 sheep. So we are altogether weak and de- 
 pendent, exposed continually to evils which we 
 can neither foresee nor prevent; beset with 
 enemies who wait for our halting; tempta- 
 tions, like raving wolves, watch to make us 
 their prey ; our adversary the Devil, like a 
 roaring lion, continually goeth about seeking 
 to devour us. Our inward passions and de- 
 sires, worse than wild beasts, would teams in 
 pieces, did not the great shepherd of the flock 
 help and preserve us. No animal is so stu- 
 pid or so much disposed to wander from the 
 flock as the sheep. So we all, like lost sheep, 
 blinded by temptation and stupiiicd by sin, 
 had gone astray ; we had departed every one 
 into his own way; we had wandered from 
 
 VOL. IT, G 
 
4e SERMON IIL 
 
 the rich pasture which God had provided foir 
 us, in quest of forbidden pleasures, as sheep 
 scattered on the mountains, without a shep-^ 
 herd ; and in a deplorable situation like this 
 were we, when he who made us had mercy 
 upon us, and sent the great shepherd and bish- 
 op of souls, to seek and save that which was 
 lost. 
 
 But though all mankind afe represented in 
 scripture under the image of sheep, yet the 
 genuine disciples of Christ are more frequent- 
 ly and with greater propriety spoken of as his 
 flock, because they are a chosen people selec- 
 ted from the herd of mankind, and collected 
 into his church, which is his fold ; because 
 they are distinguished by him above others; 
 he knoweth them and calleth them by name— * 
 others, who are not of his fold, he knoweth 
 and acknowledgeth not — in short, because 
 they hear and know his voice and follow hint 
 —they are, like the lamb of God, meek, harm- 
 less, patient and resigned. 
 
 But wherein consists that pastoral care which 
 Christ exercises over his flock? First of all, 
 he is the shepherd of his people because he 
 feeds them with spiritual and divine foodo 
 Thus says the Psalmist, '' the Lord is my shep* 
 
SERMON III. 43 
 
 ** herd, I shall not want, he maketh mc to lie 
 '' down in green pastures, he leadeth me by 
 ''the still waters." The word of God and 
 the ordinances of religion form to every sin- 
 cere Christian a rich repast ; a pasture which 
 is ever green. This pasture is, moreover, 
 watered with the dew of heaven, which makes 
 it spring up and yield abundant nourishment. 
 They who frequent the ordinances of Christ*s 
 religion, who read his word by day and me- 
 ditate on it by night, who hold communion 
 with him in the exercises of devotion, who 
 walk with him in the ways of holiness and 
 peace, shall not want; they shall not want 
 light and instruction ; they shall not want 
 comfort and joy; they shall not want grace 
 sufficient for them in every time of trial. They 
 shall go out and in and find pasture. 
 
 The reason why men make so little progress 
 in religion, why they do not grow more ra- 
 pidly in grace and in knowledge is, that, they 
 reject the food which is presented to them. 
 Their vitiated appetite loathes every thing 
 which is not seasoned with sin or sensual plea- 
 sure. But would they only open this sacred 
 book of God, and peruse it with sincere and 
 upright hearts, they would there find an un- 
 
44 SERMON III. 
 
 speakable and inexhaustible feast to the soul ^ 
 they would find a table constantly furnished 
 with the richest dainties, even in the pre- 
 sence of their enemies ; they would receive 
 an entertainment sweeter than honey and the 
 honey-comb. When the Christain, after 
 Searching through the wilderness of the world, 
 and finding every thing barren and insipid, 
 retires into the house of God, and joins in the 
 exercises of his worship, he sees green pas- 
 tures arise ; the desert crowned with herbage, 
 nature smiles, and refreshing streams are heard 
 to murmur all around. Nor does this part of 
 Christ*s pastoral office, like many others, cease 
 with the present life. For even in the future 
 world, where faith shall be swallowed up in 
 vision; where every want shall be supplied ; 
 where there shall be no ordinances whence 
 the flock of the Redeemer may draw nourish- 
 ment; where shall be no temple to worship 
 in ; where the people of God shall eat of the 
 fruit of the tree of life, and drink of those 
 rivers of pleasure which flow at his right hand 
 — still the Lamb which is in the midst of the 
 throne shall feed them and shall lead them to 
 living fountains of water, and God shall wipe 
 away all tears from their eyes. 
 
SERMON III. 43 
 
 Christ is the shepherd of his people, be- 
 cause he leads and directs them. Thus says 
 the Psalmist, ** he leadeth me in the paths of 
 ^'righteousness for his name*s sake." His word 
 is a light to their feet and a lamp to their path ; 
 he leads them by his spirit to the richest and 
 the best pastures ; he directs them into the right 
 way by his precepts and by his example ; he 
 warns them by his servants of those paths where 
 the nets of the destroyer are spread, where the 
 wild beasts of prey have their haunts, where 
 danger and temptation abound. When the road 
 issteepand difficult, he takes them by the hand, 
 and carries them safely through every trial. 
 When the path is uncertain his voice is heard 
 before them, " This is the way, walk ye in 
 ** it." When the noon-tide of affliction burns, 
 he maketh his flock to rest under the cool and 
 refreshing shade of his grace. A\^hen the 
 storm aproaches, he removes them to a place 
 of shelter, and takes them away from the evil 
 to come. And when the shadows of the ever- 
 lasting evening descend, as a shepherd coimt- 
 eth his flock, seperateth the sheep from the 
 goats, and shutteth them up in his fold, so 
 Jesus receiveth his lambs into his bosom, 
 where enfolded in his arms they sleep the 
 
46 SERMON III. 
 
 long sleep of death, secure from every danger 
 and beyond the reach of every foe. 
 
 Christ is the shepherd of his people, be- 
 cause he restoreth their soul, recalleth them 
 from their wanderings, healeth their backsli- 
 dings, and receiveth them graciously into fa- 
 vour. Such is the prevalence of indwelling 
 corruption, the force of temptation and the 
 subtlety of the destroyer, that even they who 
 have been recovered from the ways of folly 
 and destruction, are still apt to wander from 
 the flock, to feed on forbidden pastures; or, 
 by frequenting the company of the wicked, 
 to expose themselves to be entangled by temp- 
 tation or devoured by some of their numerous 
 foes. The shepherd may for a time permit 
 them to wander bewildered in darkness and 
 uncertainty, perplexed with doubts and fears 
 whether they shall ever discover the right road 
 or be again admitted into the fold, in order 
 to make them more sensible of their dan- 
 ger, and more humble and watchful and atten- 
 tive to his voice in future. But none of his 
 little ones shall perish. He knows how frail 
 they are. He pities and reclaims those who 
 are gone astray. He seeks the lost sheep in 
 hi$ wanderings, and when hefindeth it, he re- 
 
SERMON III. 47 
 
 joiceth more over it than over those who went 
 not astray. It is impossible that they who are 
 preserved and restored by this good shepherd 
 shall finally fall away. In the hour of reck- 
 oning, none shall be missing. When the chief 
 Shepherd shall appear, he shall present to his 
 Father a glorious and perfect flock, without 
 spot or blemish, with these joyful words, 
 ** those that thou gavest me I have kept, and 
 '* none of them is lost.'* Fear not then, ye who 
 are of the flock of Jesus, for it is your Father's 
 good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 
 
 Christ is the shepherd of his people because 
 he protects them from danger ; so strong and 
 sincere was his love for his sheep, that he laid 
 down his life for them. But by so doing he 
 has vanquished all those who seek to make 
 their souls a prey; and he now liveth and 
 reigneth for ever, to guard his flock from every 
 danger. And not only is he a powerful but 
 also a watchful shepherd. He that keepeth 
 Israel slumbers not nor ^leeps ; his eye is 
 ever upon his beloved sheep ; he sees all the 
 attempts and plots of their subtle and relentless 
 enemies, and defeats their counsels before they 
 are put into execution. Dangers may threaten, 
 temptations may surround, the adversary may 
 
48 SERMON III, 
 
 rage and roar for his prey, but he who leadeth 
 Joseph hke a flock of sheep is mightier far 
 than they who conspire their ruin. He shall 
 preserve them from all evil. He is their 
 shade on their right hand. The sun shall not 
 smite them by day, nor the moon by night. 
 He shall preserve their going out and their 
 coming in. They may lie down in peace and 
 fleep in security ; for the Lord maketh them 
 to dwell in safety. He stills the raging of the 
 seas, and represses the fury of the enemy and 
 the avenger. He sends his angel and shuts 
 the lions* mouths, that they cannot hurt those 
 whom the wickedness of man has exposed 
 to their devouring jaws. The burning fiery 
 furnace cannot injure when the Son of God is 
 present. Even the dark valley of the shadow 
 of death 4oses all its horrour, and ceases to in- 
 spire fear, when the Shepherd of Israel is with 
 us as our guardian and support. '' 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 staff comfort and support 
 <* me.*' '' I give unto my sheep eternal life," 
 says our Lord, *' and they shall never perish, 
 ** neither shall any be able to pluck them out 
 ** of my hand," 
 
SERMON III. 49 
 
 In short Christ is the shepherd of his people, 
 because he comforts and reheves them. How 
 beautiful and aflecting a description is given us 
 by the prophet, of the care, attention and 
 compassion witli which Jesus exercises this 
 part of his pastoral office! *' He shall feed his 
 ** flock, like a shepherd; he shall gather the 
 '* lambs with his arms, and carry them in his 
 '* bosom, and gently lead those that are with 
 '* young.'* In Christ's fold there are sheep ol 
 all ages and conditions. But according to 
 their circumstances and exigencies such is 
 the care of their compassionate shepherd. As 
 their days are, so shall their strength be. They 
 that are young in grace and cannot walk shall 
 be carried ; and that too in a place which 
 equally denotes safety and endearment, in the 
 bosom of the good Shepherd. They cannot 
 sink, under whom are the everlastuig arms. 
 They that are heavy laden shall be gently led. 
 Comfort yourselves Christians, with this, that 
 none shall be left behind. Whatever hard- 
 ships and difficulties you may meet with on 
 the way, however inadequate your strength 
 may seem for the burden you are called to 
 bear, yet fear not, you shall all appear before 
 God in Zion. To the faint the Shepherd of 
 
 VOL. II. H 
 
50 SERMON IIL 
 
 Israel giveth power, and to them that have no 
 might he increaseth strength. He strength- 
 eneth the diseased ; he healeth the sick, he 
 bindeth up the broken, he seeketh the lost, 
 he bringeth back that which was driven away. 
 "Wherever his sheep are scattered in the cloudy 
 and dark day, into whatever fold they may 
 have strayed, he searcheth them out, he bring- 
 eth them from among the people, and gath- 
 ereth them from the countries, and bringeth 
 them again to his flock ; there shall they lie 
 down in a good fold, and in a fat pasture shall 
 they feed on the mountains of Israel. 
 
SERMON IV, 
 
 PART II. 
 
 The same subject continuecL 
 
 My brethren, in a former discourse from these 
 words, I endeavoured to illustrate the charac- 
 ter of Christ as a shepherd, and to show that 
 he is thus denominated with the greatest pro- 
 priety and beauty ; because he feeds, leads, 
 restores, protects and comforts his people. 
 
 I now proceed, as was proposed in the 
 second place, to inquire who are those othet 
 sheep, whom jesus says in the text, he must 
 bring in, and who shall hear his voice. 
 
 / am the good shepherd, says Jesus> and 
 know my sheep. The followers of the Lamb 
 are all enrolled in his book of life. From that 
 divine omniscience and foreknowledge of 
 which he is possessed, he knew from the begin- 
 ning who shall believe and be saved, and who 
 shall reject the counsel of God to their own 
 condemnation. The heirs of grace, chosen to 
 
52 SERMON IV. 
 
 be partakers of Christ's redemption, shall not 
 be forgotten, or left to perish. In whatever 
 nation or region of the earth they may live ; 
 however far removed from the means of salva- 
 tion ; however improbable it may be that the 
 sound of the gospel should ever reach them ; 
 yet the great Shepherd of the flock knoweth 
 where they are to be found, and at the time 
 and in the way which he hath appointed they 
 shall be brought in. As faith cometh by hear- 
 ing, and hearing by the word of God, by 
 means which we cannot foresee or explain, 
 but which are doubtless within the reach of 
 almighty power and infinite wisdom, wher- 
 ever Christ has sheep the light of the gospel 
 shall either shine upon the whole nation to 
 which they belong, or the dews of heaven shall 
 distil upon them in secret, or they shall in 
 the course of providence be removed to a place 
 where the gospel is known and professed. The 
 conversion of Ethiopia to the faith was an 
 event which, at the time it happened, was of 
 all others the most improbable ; but in that 
 nation Jesus had sheep to bring in, and their 
 bringing in he accomplished by the acciden- 
 tal meeting, as it would appear to us, of a 
 great man of that country with one of our 
 
SERMON IV. 63 
 
 Lord's disciples. To Cornelius, a private mes- 
 senger was dispatched from heaven, that he 
 and his household might be brought into the 
 fold of the Redeemer. On the other hand, 
 those Jews who had been scattered abroad 
 throughout every nation under heaven, and 
 who consequently had no opportunity of 
 hearing Christ's voice-in those unenlightened 
 countries, yet being among the number of his 
 sheep, they were providentially brought up 
 to Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of Penticost, 
 and were there converted by the powerful 
 preaching of St. Peter, seconded by the won- 
 derful works of God. And so it was, so it is, 
 and so it will be, in every age. The Shep- 
 herd of Israel is constantly carrying on that 
 plan, devised from the beginning, for bring- 
 ing all whom the Father has given him to a 
 knowledge of himself. The objects, the time 
 and the means are all fixed in his mind, and 
 form a part of one great chain, no link of which 
 shall be broken. But they are necessarily un- 
 known to us. We cannot tell who are the 
 ^heep of Jesus, No human foresight, obser- 
 ving even with the greatest care the signs of 
 the times, can ascertain when or how the light 
 of the glorious gospel shall shine cither to i\Zr 
 
5i SERMON IV. 
 
 tions or individuals. That book, which coil- 
 tains the catalogue of Christ's chosen ones, no 
 man in heaven, nor in earth, nor under the 
 earth is able to open or to read. In this in- 
 quiry, therefore, we presume not to determine 
 the objects of the divine favour, or to fix upon 
 the times and the seasons which God hath re- 
 served in his own power. But from the decla- 
 rations made in other passages of scripture; 
 from the general tenour of the gospel, and 
 from the analogy of providence, to illustrate 
 the meaning of our Saviour, when he says, 
 *' other sheep I have, which are not of this 
 " fold ; them also I must bring, and they shall 
 ^' hear my voice/' 
 
 1. By the expression, this fold, it is evident 
 that the Jewish nation, was primarily inten- 
 ded by our Lord ; and by his other sheep the 
 Gentile nations. The Jews were particularly 
 distinguished by the title of God's flock. They 
 had been chosen by the Almighty, outof allthe 
 nations of the earth. To them alone a revela- 
 tion was granted ; to them were committed 
 the oracles of the living God. These instan- 
 ces of the divine favour, however, were not 
 occasioned by any merit on their part; but 
 were designed by God in order to make with 
 
SERMON IV. 55 
 
 them a deposit of his revealed will, to preserve 
 alive in the earth the knowledge of himself, 
 and by degrees to prepare the world more effec- 
 tually for that grand dispensation which was not 
 to be confined to one nation or country, but 
 to be published to the whole race of man. 
 That the revelation intrusted to them might 
 not be lost or corrupted, by any intercourse or 
 union with the professors of heathenism it 
 was ordained, that, no strangers or foreigners 
 should be admitted into the bosom of their 
 church. If any who resided among them 
 were willing to embrace their religion, they 
 were admitted no farther than the outer court. 
 The Jews were farther distinguished from all 
 other nations of the earth by peculiar rites and 
 ceremonies. They were forbidden to inter- 
 marry, or even to eat or to drink with strangers. 
 In short, every method was adopted which 
 policy could suggest to preserve them a sepa- 
 rate and distinct people. A wall was erected 
 between the Jew and the Gentile, which was 
 the parent of many odious distinctions and of 
 many mistaken opinions, highly injurious to 
 the character of the Supreme Being. In the 
 days of our Saviour, the most extravagant na- 
 tional pride, joined to an unjustifiable con- 
 
56 SERMON IV. 
 
 tempt of all other nations, religious bigotry, 
 self-conceit, the meanest and most illiberal 
 prejudices, formed the prominent features in 
 the Jewish character. Puffed up with a sense 
 of their supposed superiority over others, their 
 constantboast was, that, they were born of the 
 circumcision, that they were Abraham's seed, 
 and Moses's disciples. Ignorant of the true 
 intention of the Almighty in selecting them 
 from the rest of the world, they foolishly im- 
 agined that God was a local deity, confined 
 to the Jewish nation, and to the land of Ju- 
 dea. In their opinion there was no salvation 
 to the Gentiles; they of the uncircumcision 
 who knew not the law were accursed. And 
 though, in the days of the Messiah, they ex- 
 pected that Tarshish and the Isles should ac- 
 knowledge his sway, they were far from sup- 
 posing that they would be admitted to equal 
 privileges with their own favoured nation, but, 
 that they would be nothing else than subjects 
 and tributaries to the Jews. 
 
 How different from all this were the general 
 spirit and declared intention of Christianity. 
 Within its wide embrace it comprehended 
 both Jew and Gentile, Greek and barbarian, 
 Koman and Scythian, bond and free, Chris- 
 
SERMON IV, $^ 
 
 tianity does not require us to worship God, at 
 any stated season or in any particular place, 
 but allows us to worship tvhen and where and 
 how we please, provided we worship him in 
 spirit and in truth. The perfection of the 
 Christian service consists not in the strict obser- 
 vance of outward rites and ceremonies, but in 
 that which every man has it in his power to 
 attain, the due regulation of his heart and con- 
 duct. The rites it prescribes are few and sim- 
 ple, the forms it requires are plain and easy to 
 be observed. It's maxims and precepts are not 
 adapted to the taste of any particular age or 
 nation ; but are of that general, universal and 
 immutable nature which is calculated for all 
 ranks and professions, for all ages and nations, 
 and for every mode of government and every 
 state of society. Jesus was not the teacher and 
 lawgiver of the Jewish nation alone, but of 
 the whole human race. He broke down the 
 middle wall of partition which separated the 
 Jews from the Gentiles, and united them in 
 one body by his cross. He abolished the law 
 of ordinances, which was obligatory only on 
 one people, and delivered a new command- 
 ment which all nations were required to obey. 
 He threw open the door of that fold which 
 
 K'OL. IT. 1 
 
5S SERMON IV. 
 
 the Scribes and Pharisees had been so careful 
 to keep shut, and invited all the people of the 
 earth to assemble therein. He was a light to 
 lighten the Gentiles and to guide into the way 
 of peace those who sat in darkness, and in the 
 shadow of death. His sound was destined to 
 go into all the earth, and his words unto the 
 ends of the world. 
 
 By the other sheep mentioned in the text, is 
 therefore meant those believers among the 
 Gentiles, who were not of the Jewish nation or 
 church. These, Jesus tells his hearers, should 
 hear the glad tidings of the gospel of peace, and 
 should be admitted into his fold, should hear 
 his voice and follow him. The bringing in of 
 these sheep, in other words, the conversion of 
 the Gentiles, had been long ago predicted by 
 the prophets, and spoken of in terms of rap- 
 ture and sublimity, as an event which was to 
 take place in the reign of the Messiah. To 
 correct the inveterate prejudices of the Jews ; 
 to destroy that narrow spirit of bigotry where- 
 with they were animated ; to expand their 
 minds to more liberal views of the divine ways, 
 was the object of our Lord in many conversa- 
 tions which he held with the Scribes and Pha- 
 risees. His own ministrations indeed were in 
 
SERMON IV. 59 
 
 a great measure confined to the Jews ; for as 
 he himself says, he was not sent but to the 
 lost sheep of the house of Israel. That he 
 might not violently shock their prejudices and 
 unnecessarily lay a stumbling block in their 
 way, he did not at first openly teach their re- 
 jection, and the admission of the Gentiles to 
 the same rights and privileges, but wrapped up 
 his doctrines on that head in allegories and pa- 
 rables. But when he had finished the work 
 which was given him to do; when he had 
 come to his own, and his own received him 
 not; then he determined to bring in his other 
 sheep, to try if they would hear his voice, and 
 he commissioned his apostles to go into all the 
 world, and preach the gospel to every creature. 
 Through their instrumentality salvation was 
 brought to the Gentiles. In obedience to their 
 Master's command, they dispersed themselves 
 into the various regions of the earth, seeking 
 and bringing in Christ's sheep, teaching that 
 circumcision or uncircumcision availed noth- 
 ing, that God is no respecter of persons, but 
 that in every nation he that feareth him and 
 worketh righteousness is accepted of him. And 
 such was their success; so great was the num- 
 ber of sheep whom they brought into the Re- 
 
60 SERMON IV. 
 
 deeiner*s fold, that it might be truly said, that, 
 they became a people who were no people ; that 
 a little one became a thousand, and a small one 
 a strong nation. In short, the change was so 
 great, and the revolution so complete, that they 
 who before were excluded from God's flock 
 now became the only true flock, and the an» 
 cient flock were rejected from the fold. 
 
 2. As at the time when our Lord addressed 
 the Jews he meant by this fold, the Jewish 
 church, and by his other sheep, the Gentiles 
 —and by saying that these other sheep should 
 hear his voice and be brought in, he meant 
 that the Gospel should be preached to the 
 Gentiles, and that many of them would be- 
 lieve and receive it ; so in the present days, 
 when we say that Christ has other sheep, who 
 are not of this fold, but who shall hear his 
 voice and shall be brought in, we mean, by 
 this fold, the Christian church — by his other 
 sheep ; i . The Jews who refuse to acknow.- 
 ledge Jesus as the Messiah ; 2. The Mahom- 
 etans who acknowledge Jesus to have been a 
 great prophet, but yet have suffered them- 
 selves to be deluded by the vain pretensions of 
 an enthusiastick impostor ; and 3. The hea- 
 then nations, of whom we may say with Isaiah, 
 
SERMON IV. 61 
 
 *' darkness covers the earth, and gross darknes$ 
 *^ the people.*' And when we say, that, these 
 other sheep shall hear his voice, and be brought 
 in, we mean that the Jews shall at last yield to 
 the force of truth, lay aside their prejudices, 
 and believe that Jesus is the Messiah ; that the 
 Mahometans shall perceive their errours, and 
 acknowledge no other prophet but Jesus of 
 Nazareth ; in short, that, the glory of the Lord 
 shall yet arise upon those who now sit in dark- 
 ness, and their light shall come. 
 
 The conversion of the Jews to the faith of 
 Christ, is an event generally expected to take 
 place in the latter days. For this they seem 
 to be miraculously reserved by divine provi- 
 dence. For notwithstanding innumerable 
 persecutions, captivities, changes and revolu- 
 tions ; in spite of many attempts to incorpo- 
 rate them with the nations among whom 
 they have lived, they still remain a separate 
 and distinct people, professing their ancient 
 national faith, and governed by their own pe- 
 culiar customs and manners; and this unfortu- 
 nate nation still remains separate and distinct 
 from all the nations of the earth, a dispersed, 
 persecuted and despised race, a standing proof 
 of the truth of revelation, a striking instance of 
 
62 SERMON IV. 
 
 the divine vengeance against infidelity and dis- 
 obedience, and we trust, a fit subject for the 
 display of the divine glory in their conversion 
 and restoration. For that the rejection of the 
 Jews is not final and perpetual we have the 
 authority of many plain and certain predic- 
 tions interpreted by an infallible apostle. The 
 prophet Isaiah, after foretelling the advent of 
 the Messiah and the glories of his reign, thus 
 describes the conversion of the Gentiles and the 
 subsequent restoration of the Jews. '' In that 
 *' day there shall be a root of Jesse which shall 
 '* stand for an ensign to the people: to it shall 
 *' the Gentiles seek ; and his rest shall be glori- 
 ^' ous. And it shall come to pass in that day, 
 *^ that the Lord shall set his hand again, the 
 ** second time, to recover the remnant of his 
 '* people which shall be left. And he shall set 
 ^^ up an ensign to the nations, and shall assem- 
 *' ble the outcasts of Israel, and gather together 
 *' the dispersed of Judah from the corners of 
 ^' the earth." The apostle Paul likewise says, 
 ^' I would not that ye were ignorant of this, 
 '' that blindness in part has happened to Israel 
 '^ until the fulness of the Gentiles be come 
 '' in, and then all Israel shall be saved." 
 When or hoxv tJiis desirable event shall take 
 
SERMON IV. 63 
 
 place, we are not told, and therefore are not 
 authorized to conjecture: whether the conver- 
 sion of the Jews shall be previous or subse- 
 quent to the conversion of those other nations 
 who still refuse the yoke of Jesus. Whether 
 they shall be brought in by degrees separately 
 and individually, or at once in one great body, 
 and with the consent of the whole nation, are 
 points which no man can, with certainty, de- 
 termine. Their opinion is the most proba- 
 ble in itself, and most consonant to the pro- 
 phesies on this subject, who suppose, that, 
 after they have endured the various curses pro- 
 nounced on their infidelity, the Lord, in his 
 own time and way, will gather them, as their 
 great Legislator predicts, from among the na- 
 tions whither he had scattered them, and with 
 an outstretched arm will lead them in tri- 
 umph to take possession of the land of their 
 fathers. This will be an event of such mag- 
 nitude and splendour, it will be so decided a 
 proof of the truth of Christianity, that none 
 can possibly avoid conviction — all the nations 
 of the earth, shall hasten into the Redemer's 
 fold — the sheep of Jesus shall be brought from 
 afar; they shall fly as a cloud driven by the 
 
64 SERMON IV. 
 
 wind, and flock together as doves to their win- 
 dows. 
 
 The conversion of the followers of Moham- 
 med to the Christain faith is also an event 
 which, though not in particular and express, 
 yet in general language, we are taught by the 
 sacred oracles to expect. As I had occasion 
 to observe and illustrate in a former discourse,, 
 though we may justly lament that Christianity 
 has not been equally successful, yet the exten- 
 sive propagation of Mahommedan faith ought 
 not to excite much regret ; because in many 
 respects it is a proper forerunner to the gospel^ 
 and well calculated to pave the way for Its in- 
 troduction. By means which Christianity 
 does not allow its professors to employ, Mo- 
 hammed diffused knowledge and civilization 
 among nations formerly rude and barbarous. 
 He taught, together with an excellent system 
 of morals, the belief of one God, and of a 
 future state of rewards and punishments, which 
 are the necessary foundations of every system 
 of religion. The Mohammedans are fettered 
 with fewer prejudices than the Jews. They 
 have a high respect for Jesus, and believe his- 
 divine mission ; and should the time arrive 
 when, delivered from the shackles of despot- 
 
SERMON IV. 6^ 
 
 ism, they shall enjoy the privilege of calm dis- 
 cussion and free inquiry, errour and imposture 
 will speedily disappear before the light of truth. 
 This period, moreover, appears to be at no 
 great distance. The general weakness and de- 
 cay which are apparent in all Mohammedan 
 States; the rapid progress which a Christian 
 Princess, seconded by the hardy sons of the 
 north, has lately made towards the universal 
 empire of Asia ; the extensive settlements made 
 by another great commercial nation in an op- 
 posite quarter of that populous and extensive 
 country, all indicate the speedy overthrow of 
 the temporal power of Mohammed ; and with 
 this the spiritual dominion will fall of course. 
 Christianity was propagated by argument, its 
 evidence rests on sound and immutable reason; 
 and, therefore, it cannot fall as long as human 
 nature continues the same. But the religion 
 of Mohammed was propagated by the sword ; 
 it is still interwoven with the political constitu- 
 tion ; and, therefore, when the power of the 
 sword shall, with whatever views of ambition 
 or of policy, be wrested from its professors, it 
 will have no support, the whole system will 
 tumble into ruins, like a building wiiose foun- 
 dation is removed. There is no religion but 
 
 VOL. II. K 
 
66 SERMON IV, 
 
 the Gospel that can bear the fiery trial of per- 
 secution and affliction. 
 
 But not only do we expect that the Jews and 
 Mahometans shall hear Christ's voice, and be 
 brought into his fold, the Sacred Oracles men- 
 tion other sheep besides these which shall also 
 be brought in. They predict an era when the 
 knowledge of the Lord shall cover the whole 
 earth; when the heathen and unenlightened 
 nations shall enjoy with us the benefits of 
 knowledge and the blessings of religion. To 
 an event so wonderful and so glorious, we dare 
 scarcely lift our imagination, much less can 
 we pretend to point out the means by which it 
 may be accomplished. We rest with confi- 
 dence in this, that he who hath foretold it is 
 able to bring it to pass, and we believe that the 
 Lord will hasten it in his good time. At the 
 time when our Lord uttered the sentiment in 
 the text, the conversion of the Gentiles was an 
 event equally as improbable as the farther pro- 
 pagation of the Gospel is, in the present days, 
 to nations barbarous and uncivilized, whom 
 the foot of the traveller has never visited; on 
 whom the day of science and religion has not 
 yet dawned. Who could have supposed that 
 Jesus, addressing a company of Jews in the 
 
SERMON IV. 67 
 
 landof Judea, alluded even to a country which 
 was then undiscovered, and meant that he had 
 sheep on these distant shores, who, eighteen 
 hundred years after his crucifixion should hear 
 his voice and be brousfht into his fold ? The 
 numerous discoveries which of late years have 
 been made ; the regular and easy intercourse 
 which by means of navigation may be carried 
 on between the most distant regions; the spi- 
 rit of adventure which, in this commercial age, 
 prevails in many Christian countries; furnish 
 advantages which could not have been found 
 in any preceding period. To the honour of 
 the British nation and of human nature I men- 
 tion, that the most strenuous exertions are ma- 
 king among that people to improve the present 
 favourable circumstances; that many, anima- 
 ted with a noble zeal for the cause of truth and 
 of Christianity, have formed themselves into 
 societies for the propagation of the Gospel ; 
 and that missions are actually instituted for the 
 conversion of the South-Sea Islanders, of the 
 Hindoos, and of the American Indians. 
 
 It is our duty to co-operate with them, as far 
 as lies in our power in advancing the common 
 cause of Christianity. It is our duty, and it 
 is also in pur power, to recommend religion by 
 
68 SERMON IV. 
 
 our example ; to show, by the influence which 
 it has on our heart and conduct, that it is wor- 
 thy of all acceptation ; and to offer up our pray- 
 ers to heaven, that the gospel may have free 
 course and be glorified, that the kingdoms 
 of this world may become the kingdoms of our 
 Lord and of his Christ ; that there may be one 
 fold and one shepherd. 
 
 JSTote — The illustration of the third division of this subject^ 
 as projected by the authour, was not found among his manu- 
 scripts. 
 
SERMON V. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 On the holy sacrament of the Lord*s Supper, 
 
 Luke, Chap. 22, Verse 15^ 
 
 " With desire I have desired to eat this passover with 
 you, before I suffer." 
 
 The passover was an anniversary festival cel- 
 ebrated by the Jews, in commemoration of 
 their deliverance from Egyptian bondage. 
 Jesus, who came not to destroy the law but to 
 fulfil it, had always set before his followers an 
 example of all-righteousness, and had been 
 punctual therefore in discharging even those 
 ritual and ceremonial observances which were 
 imposed on the Jews by the law of Moses. 
 We find him attending the publick worship in 
 the synagogues; we find him making the 
 customary offerings and oblations in the tem- 
 ple, and we read of him, on former occasions, 
 regularly and zealously going up to Jerusalem 
 
70 SERMON V. 
 
 to celebrate with his countrymen this grand 
 feast of the passover. But we learn, from the 
 preceding part of the history, that the ap- 
 proach of this particular festival, here alluded 
 to, was accompanied with more important pre- 
 paration than had ever been the case on any 
 former occasion. The reason was, that the 
 baptism wherewith he was to be baptized drew 
 near, and he was straitened 'till it was accom- 
 plished. He foresaw, that, on this occasion, 
 his soul was to be offered up unto God ; that 
 his enemies would triumph over him; and 
 that his life of trouble was to be finished by an 
 ignominious death. This was the last time 
 that he should eat the passover with his disci- 
 ples, until it was fulfilled in the kingdom of 
 God. But though these gloomy prospects lay 
 before him, and he felt with the deepest sensi- 
 bility of soul the wounds which they inflicted, 
 yet we do not find that he was at all discour- 
 aged or dismayed. On the contrary, he went 
 up to Jerusalem not merely with resignation, 
 but even with boldness, alacrity and cheerful- 
 ness. Instead of shrinking from tlie conflict, 
 and seeking to avoid by flight or concealment 
 the place or the occasion of his troubles and 
 persecution, he went up in a more open and 
 
SERMON V. 71 
 
 magnificent manner than heretofore ; and even 
 vehemently desired. to eat this passover with his 
 disciples. With a generosity, of which he 
 is the only example, he was less affected by 
 the consideration of his own sufferings than he 
 was encouraged and elevated by the happiness 
 he was to secure to his followers. For the joy 
 that was set before him he cheerfully endured 
 the cross, despising the shame. 
 
 But what, no doubt, chiefly occupied his 
 thoughts on occasion of this passover, and 
 which was the cause of that desire which he 
 had to celebrate it, was the favourable oppor- 
 tunity which it presented of instituting a sim- 
 ple, but significative and solemn service, which 
 would tend to recall the remembrance of him, 
 when he was gone from them ; which would 
 be a token and memorial of the familiarity and 
 friendship which tliey had enjoyed with him 
 for several years ; and which would be a dis- 
 tinguishing badge of his followers in all suc- 
 ceeding ages. 
 
 This appears to be the meaning and scope 
 of the verse. But what seems no less worthy 
 of attention, is the contrast which may be re- 
 marked between the disposition and conduct of 
 our Saviour on this occasion, and those of his 
 
n SERMON V. 
 
 professed followers when the Christian passo* 
 ver, which is the substitute of the Jewish, is 
 about to be celebrated. With whatever bitter 
 herbs this festival was accompanied to our 
 Lord, he not only cheerfully partook of it, in 
 obedience to his father*s will, and in conformi- 
 ty to the great design of his mission into the 
 world, but he even felt an anxious desire to 
 be present at this feast, though he knew that 
 bonds and imprisonment and death awaited 
 him. How different this from the conduct of 
 his followers, who, notwithstanding it is their 
 express duty to partake of the Christian pass- 
 over, notwithstanding it is a most delightful 
 feast to every worthy partaker, notwithstanding 
 it is accompanied with unspeakable advanta- 
 ges, not only to individuals but to the Church 
 in general, do yet either perform this duty with 
 lukewarmness and indifference, or are found 
 to be absent when this ordinance is to be cele- 
 brated, or perhaps absolutely refuse to perform 
 it, consider it as a duty of slight obligation and 
 trifling importance, and thus trample under 
 foot the blood of the covenant wherewith we 
 are sanctified. 
 
 This, my brethren, is a conduct which I 
 have often had occasion to mention with aston- 
 
SERMON V. 73 
 
 ishment, regret and disapprobation. I have 
 from time to time addressed to you such ex- 
 hortations as I thought would have some 
 weight, at least, with the serious and well dis* 
 posed ; and I had begun to Jiopc, that my re- 
 monstrances had, at last, awakened some to a 
 sense of the obligation and importance of this 
 solemn ordinance. But alas ! the righteous- 
 ness of many among us is as the morning cloud 
 and the early dew which soon pass away. 
 Some who heretofore were punctual in dis- 
 charging this duty do now regularly absent 
 themselves from church on a communion Sab- 
 bath. Others who do communicate are not 
 sufficiently attentive to recommend this neces- 
 sary duty to others, especially their children, 
 relatives and dependents. The young and 
 rising generation are thus left ignorant in reli- 
 gious things, and, if we may judge from out- 
 ward appearances, scarcely reflect that they 
 have immortal spirits to be saved; that they 
 are sinful creatures who need a Saviour ; or 
 that they came into the world for any other 
 purpose than to prosecute the gaieties and fri- 
 volities of fashion and amusement, or, at best, 
 to pursue the trifling and short-lived objects 
 of the present life. As we have the prospect 
 
 VOL. IT. J. 
 
74 SERMON V. 
 
 of celebrating next Sabbath the holy ordi- 
 nance of the Lord's supper, I think it my du- 
 ty once more to return to the charge, and en- 
 deavour to excite in the members of this con- 
 gregation a more general desire than has hith- 
 erto been manifested of eating the Christian 
 passover. 
 
 For this purpose I propose to dedicate this 
 day to a preparatory service for the more so- 
 lemn service of next Sabbath : and by the 
 number of applications for admission to the 
 communion which shall be made, in the course 
 of the week, I shall be able to determine 
 whether there is yet remaining sufficient reli- 
 ligion and virtue to be operated upon by mo- 
 tives of duty and even interest, or whether it 
 will be of any avail ever to renew this subject 
 again. In this and the following discourse 
 therefore I shall endeavour ; 
 
 In the first place, to point out the obliga- 
 tions which all Christians are under to cele- 
 brate the sacrament of the Lord's supper: 
 
 Secondly, in order to shew you that it is your 
 interest as well as your duty, and in order to con- 
 vince you that to eat the Christian passover is 
 an honour and privilege which we ought 
 earnestly to desire, I will endeavour to point 
 
SERMON V. 75 
 
 out some of those innumerable advantages 
 which are derived from partaking of the Lord's 
 supper; 
 
 And lastly, I shall endeavour, briefly, to 
 describe the preparation which is most suit- 
 able on such an occasion, that you may dis- 
 charge this duty in a good and acceptable 
 manner. 
 
 I. In the first place, I am to point out the 
 obligations which Christians are under to cele- 
 brate the sacrament of the Lord's supper. And 
 
 First, we are bound to celebrate the sacra- 
 ment of the Lord's Supper by the express com- 
 mand of our Lord enjoining us to do so. It 
 is a common but gross and fatal mistake to 
 suppose that the sacrament, though a proper 
 and good thing, is not a strict duty binding in- 
 discriminately on all who profess the gospel, 
 that it is left to our own option whether we shall 
 partake of it or not, that by receiving it we in- 
 deed perform an important act of virtue and 
 are entitled to exalted praise, but that no posi- 
 tive guilt is incurred by absenting ourselves 
 from the ordinance. But what constitutes 
 moral obligation? It is the authority of the 
 lawgiver by whom the action is commanded 
 or forbidden. The destinction of moral and 
 
76 SERMON V. 
 
 positive precepts lessens not the strictness of the 
 obligation of either. If the former are made 
 known to us by the dictates of reason and con- 
 science, the latter proceed from a source no 
 less pure and infallible, from God himself 
 speaking to us in his word. If moral precepts 
 are consistent with the eternal rectitude and 
 fitness of things, it is no less so for creatures to 
 obey the will of their Creator in whatever he 
 is pleased to command. Who ever violates a 
 positive precept acts in direct opposition to the 
 eternal fitness of things, which laid him under 
 an obligation to obey that positive precept. He 
 is guilty of sin, no less than he who violates 
 a moral precept, because he equally insults the 
 authority of the lawgiver and infringes his right 
 to obedience. To get rid therefore of the 
 obligation which we are under to celebrate the 
 sacrament of the supper, we must either dis- 
 avow the authority of Jesus as a lawgiver or 
 deny the existence of the precept. The former 
 will be a bold and difficult step — to reject the 
 authority of him whom winds and waves 
 obey, who hath the keys of hell and of death, 
 who shutteth and none can open, who openeth 
 and none can shut. Or if we might possibly 
 be foolish and unhappy enough now to con- 
 
SERMON V. 77 
 
 €€al from our own minds this interesting truth, 
 that, Jesus is our lawgiver and will be our 
 judge, yet we shall not be able to do so in that 
 day, when, seated on a tribunal of justice, his 
 language shall be *^ those mine enemies, who 
 ** would not that I should reign over them, 
 '^ bring hither and slay them before me." 
 
 The other evasion is equally impossible. 
 For though too many are but little acquainted 
 with their Bible, their is none who can read or 
 who has ever frequented the house of God 
 who knows not, that, the Lord Jesus, the same 
 night in which he was betrayed, took bread, and 
 wheyi he had given thanks, he brake it, and 
 said. Take, eat; this is my body broken for you; 
 this do in remembrance of me. After the same 
 manner he took the cup when he had supped, and 
 said. This cup is the new testament of my blood: 
 this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance 
 of me. For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink 
 this cup, ye do shew forth the Lord's death till 
 he come. 
 
 Let no man then pretend to suppose, that, 
 it is a matter of indifference whether he com- 
 municate or not. For, from what has been 
 now said, it appears to be as much your duty 
 to communicate as it is to remember the Sab- 
 
78 SERMON V. 
 
 bath day to keep it holy, or to honour your 
 father and mother. You are equally guilty of 
 sin in neglecting to communicate as if you took 
 the name of the Lord your God in vain ; or 
 were guilty of murder, adultery and theft. 
 For the same Lawgiver who says remember the 
 Sabbath day to keep it holy, and honour your 
 father and your mother, also says, do this in 
 remembrance of me. He who has forbidden 
 profane swearing and murder, has also pro- 
 nounced accursed every one who continueth 
 not in all things written in the book of the 
 law to do them. And not only is the omis- 
 sion of communicating sinful, but it is, more* 
 over, a sin of the deepest dye and of the most 
 aggravated nature. 
 
 For, in the second place, we are bound to cel- 
 ebrate the sacrament of the Lord^s supper, by 
 the strongest of all ties, those of gratitude and 
 love. Consider the occasion and design of 
 the institution. It was appointed to assist us 
 in recalling to mind one whom, were it not 
 for our corrupt and treacherous hearts, we 
 could never forget, him who is the greatest 
 and best friend of the human race; to com- 
 memorate an event the most striking that oc- 
 curs in the annals of mankind, an event de- 
 
SERMON V. 79 
 
 monstrative of love and grace unparalleled, 
 and productive of unspeakable benefits to the 
 human race. Viewed in this light every prin- 
 ciple in our nature calls upon us to draw near 
 and contemplate this wonderful thing. 
 
 Do this in remembrance of me — said our 
 blessed Saviour when he instituted this ordi- 
 nance. How impressive and significant are 
 these words ! The circumstances in which 
 they were uttered, might serve instead of com- 
 ment and paraphrase to those who heard them, 
 but to us at this distance of time, who are 
 moreover slow of heart to believe, and still 
 slower to obey, some farther illustration may 
 be requisite. '* My beloved disciples, would 
 '* he have said, you have already been wit- 
 ** nesses to the unrelenting malice of my ene- 
 '' mles, to the persecution of the Scribes and 
 '* Pharisees, and to the violent opposition 
 *' which I have been forced to encounter in 
 '* the prosecution of the great design of re- 
 '* deeming the human race. But whatevel* 
 ** diflficulties I have hitherto met with, how- 
 '' ever great my past sufferings have been, yet 
 ** they bear no proportion to those which I 
 *' am shortly tosufl:er. For I must now be ex- 
 '* posed not only to the relentless rage of the 
 
80 SERMON V. 
 
 <^ Scribes and Pharisees, and to the Insatiable 
 «* fury of an incensed multitude, but also to 
 ^* the united strength and attacks of all the 
 ** powers of darkness. But this is not all. I 
 *^ have a severer baptism to be baptized w^ith; 
 <* I am not only forced to fight with men and 
 ^* devils ; but, as Jacob contended and wrest- 
 " led with the angel till he obtained a bles- 
 '" sing, so must I this night wrestle and strive 
 '' in prayer with God, till I obtain pardon and 
 '« blessing for the fallen sons of Adam. I am 
 ** now to feel the whole weight of my father's 
 '^ dreadful wrath and indignation for all the 
 " sins of the world. Your zeal and affection 
 <* for me have hitherto kept you closely at- 
 <* tached to me, but the time is at hand, when 
 " I must be deprived even of this consolation, 
 ** and shall be left alone, to sustain the whole 
 '* shock of divine displeasure at human guilt, 
 *' like sheep without a shepherd, you will all 
 ** of you be soon scattered, every one to his 
 " own home : and I shall be left in a situation 
 *« so deserted and forlorn that even God himself 
 " shall, for a while, seem to forsake me. Then 
 '* shall I be delivered up into the power of 
 " mine enemies to be abused and evil intreated, 
 *Mo be mocked and scourged, to be crucified 
 
SERMON V. 8) 
 
 *< and slain. But all this will I readily and 
 «' cheerfully undergo for the benefit of man- 
 *' kind, that I may turn my Father's just indig- 
 ** nation from his guilty offspriiig, that I may 
 '* redeem the captive sinner from the guilt 
 '^ and the dominion of sin, and that I may thus 
 ** reconcile all the redeemed unto God in one 
 '^ body by the cross. 
 
 '' But while I do and suffer so much for you, 
 *' all that I require in return for such love and 
 '* kindness is, that, you affectionately remem- 
 '* ber and gratefully commemorate what I 
 " have already suffered and am still farther to 
 *' suffer in your room, and for your benefit. 
 ^' I therefore leave it, as my last and dying 
 " order to you all, and to all who shall come 
 *^ after you, that you do, by the constant celc- 
 '* bration of this holy sacrament, perp(?tuate 
 *^ and keep up a continual remembrance of 
 '* my sufferings and death, until the time of 
 *' my second coming. By breaking of bread, 
 ^' as you see me do, you will, in a lively man- 
 " er, represent and set forth the wounding and 
 "bruising of my body by the Jews. By 
 ** eating it, you will naturally be put in mind 
 " of those benefits which are procured by my 
 ** death. The pouring out of the v^ine will 
 
 VOL. ir. M 
 
m SERMON V, 
 
 *^ naturally remind you of my blood, which 
 ^' is soon to be shed for the remission of sins. 
 '' The drinking of it will serve to shew the 
 '' efficacy of my blood in cleansing and puri- 
 *^ fying the soul. And your partaking of 
 *^ both will be sufficient to signify that as your 
 *' bodies are strengthened and refreshed by 
 *' bread and wine, so your souls are comforted 
 '' and sustained by the power and efficacy of 
 •* my death, and by those heavenly influences 
 *' and constant supplies of divine grace which, 
 ^* for my sake, are conveyed and imparted to 
 *^ you, and to all Christians, in the due and 
 ^' faithful receiving of this holy sacrament/' 
 
 Who, now, that considers Jesus Christ as his 
 Saviour, and views the communion in this light, 
 does not perceive the obligation he is under 
 to celebrate it ? While we stand in need of a 
 Saviour, we are bound to commemorate what 
 that Saviour has done for us. While we want 
 a faithful Mediator to stand in the breach for 
 us, we ought, unquestionably, to remember 
 the inestimable blessings which are purchased 
 and secured by his death and intercession. 
 For how can we lay any claim to the mer- 
 its of the Saviour, if we do not follow his di- 
 rections or obey his commands. Will the 
 
SERMON V. 85 
 
 despised and neglected Jesus remember those 
 ungrateful, disobedient servants of his, when 
 they shall appear before him, in his kingdom 
 of glory hereafter, who would never vouch- 
 safe, in his kingdom of grace here on earth, to 
 do so small a matter in remembrance of him 
 as to receive the sacrament of his body broken 
 and blood shed for their sakes ? What can 
 such a neglect proceed from but a disregard 
 for this merciful Saviour, a forgetfulness of his 
 love and compassion, a base ingratitude to his 
 memory, and a shameful disobedience to his 
 commands ? What rudeness and incivility, to 
 say no worse, must it be to turn our backs, 
 with coldness and indifference, on the Lord's 
 table, when we would reckon it a breach of 
 good-manners to slight a civil invitation from 
 a neighbour or a friend ? What blindness and 
 stupidity must it be to refuse the gracious in- 
 vitation of our Saviour to partake of this hea- 
 venly banquet ? to spurn at the offer of pardon 
 and peace freely made us in this sacrament ? 
 If love be naturally productive of love, if 
 friendship merit a correspondence in kindness, 
 what is not due to him whose love was stronger 
 than death, who is a friend that sticketh clo- 
 ser than a brother? 
 
84 SERMON V. 
 
 3, We are bound to celebrate the sacra- 
 ment of the Lord's supper by a regard to the 
 honour of Christianity . The gospel is a system 
 of religion accompanied with less outward 
 ceremony and show than any other system 
 which was ever disclosed to the world . Among 
 the few simple rites which it prescribes this is 
 by much the most important. It may in truth 
 be called the distinguishing badge of Chris- 
 tianity. By adopting this badge we acknow- 
 ledge the society to which we belong: we pro- 
 fess to glory in the crosi of Christ, Prayer and 
 praise, and the duties of morality are com- 
 mon to every religion. We might attend the 
 church, practise devotion, and live outwardly 
 a good moral life, and yet disbelieve the whole 
 revelation of God. For in these things what 
 do we more than others. Do not even the 
 Jew, the Mahometan and the Infidel do 
 likewise? If we would be thought followers 
 of Christ we must practise those duties which 
 he has, more particularly, prescribed as the 
 badges of our calling. Hereby shall all men 
 know that we are his disciples, if we zeal- 
 ously and regularly perform the solemn act of 
 eating his flesh and drinking his blood. 
 
 I do not mean to affirm that all who absent 
 
SERMON V. S5 
 
 themselves from communion are enemies 
 of the the gospel. I know that many would 
 be greivously offended at such a suppo- 
 sition. But I must say, that, if you real- 
 ly believe the awful truths of religion, your 
 principles and your practice are much at va- 
 riance. In times of danger and division, 
 every man must choose a side openly, and 
 abide by it firmly. In an age when the love 
 of many waxes cold, when the most open and 
 lamentable defection from the cause of Chris- 
 tianity prevails, when its enemies are nume- 
 rous and daring beyond example or prece- 
 dent, he that is not for us is against us. If 
 he be not, absolutely, ranked with the ene- 
 mies of God, his friendship will certainly be 
 regarded with suspicion and jealousy. Luke- 
 warmness and indifference are often more fatal 
 to a cause than avowed enmity and opposi- 
 tion. The disregard of religious ordinances 
 emboldens the infidel and discourages the 
 friends of religion. As therefore you regard 
 the interest and glory of your Redeemer; as 
 you would wish his religion to spread and 
 flourish in the world; nay as you would not 
 wish that Christianity, government, morality 
 and law should be blotted out from the face of 
 
86 SERMON V. 
 
 the earth, step forward, show that you are not 
 ashamed to own your Lord in the midst of a 
 crooked and perverse generation; prove by 
 the observance of this solemn act which I now 
 recommend, that the number of Christ*s friends 
 is not so small as the enemy may be ready to 
 suppose. Blessed indeed would be the con- 
 sequences, if a whole people would with one 
 heart and one voice thus avow their principles. 
 It would strike terrour and dismay, into the 
 enemies of our faith ; it would awaken the 
 most thoughtless and unconcerned ; it would 
 decide the doubtful and wavering to the cause 
 of truth; it would encourage the young and 
 timorous; it would revive decayed religion and 
 godliness, and the glory of the Lord would 
 yet dwell in our land. But, on the contrary, 
 if the same disregard of the ordinances of re- 
 ligion which characterizes this age still con- 
 tinue or proceed any farther, the only conclu- 
 sion I can perceive will be, that the know- 
 ledge and practice of Christianity will gradu- 
 ally disappear from among men. Then as- 
 suredly you may not only bid adieu to every 
 thing good and valuable in the present life, 
 but you may extend your views to the future, 
 and reflect on that declaration of our Lord, 
 
SERMON V. 87 
 
 '* Whosoever shall be ashamed of mc, and of 
 ** my words, in this adulterous and sinful gen- 
 '* eration, of him also shall the Son of man 
 ^^ be asliaiued, when he comcih in the glory 
 '* of his Father with his holy angels/* 
 
 4. All Christians are bound to celebrate the 
 sacrament of the supper, by their baptismal 
 vows. Some may suppose that being bap- 
 tized at a period when they were incapable of 
 entering personally into any engagements, 
 they are not at all bound by any thing done 
 by their parents or sponsors. This however is 
 certainly an errour; at least it is not consistent 
 with what happens every day in common life. 
 The engagements of the representative are 
 binding on those who are represented; the 
 heir is bound to fulfil the contracts of the tes- 
 tator ; th^ offspring are unavoidably aflt'ected 
 by the conduct of the progenitor. And if 
 the children or persons represented are bound 
 by the act of their substitute, much more are 
 the parents wh-o themselves entered into the en- 
 gagement; more especially until they are in 
 some measure exonerated by the children's 
 coming to the table of the Lord, and there as- 
 suming upon themselves those honourable and 
 beneficial engagements which their parents 
 
g8 SERMON V. 
 
 formed for them at a period when they had 
 not understanding sufficiently mature to per- 
 ceive these advantages. It is the business of 
 parents, then, as they regard their own obliga- 
 tions or those of their children, to instruct 
 them early in the nature of the Christian doc* 
 trines and duties, more especially of this so- 
 lemn ordinance, and to urge them by argument 
 and authority to discharge so pressing a duty. 
 There are few parents who do not think them- 
 selves guilty of a great omission if they do 
 not, as soon as convenient, present their chil- 
 dren by baptism unto God. If death overtake 
 them before they have been admitted into the 
 bosom of the Christian society, the recollec- 
 tion of their neglect must press heavy on the 
 minds of the parents. But yet you have done 
 only half your duty unless you also bring 
 them with you to the table of the Lord, and a 
 second time present them, a ripened, reason- 
 able, and acceptable offering unto God. 
 How early this second dedication of your off- 
 spring should be made, it is impossible to de- 
 termine. If you have been at due pains to 
 endow their infant minds with the rudiments 
 of religious knowledge, the fit season of com- 
 municating is earlier than may be imagined. 
 
SERMON V. 89 
 
 They that are taught to seek God early shall 
 find him. Certain it is, that many think 
 themselves capable of acting for themselves, 
 and of forming some of the most important 
 engagements in life, who yet pretend that 
 they are too young to perform this indispens- 
 able duty. But these I cannot rank with the 
 wise and the worthy — they are destitute of a 
 sense of duty ; they cannot possibly feel any 
 regard for the Master they pretend to serve, or 
 put any value on what he has done for them 
 — they are indifferent to the interests of reli- 
 gion — they are faithless even to their baptis- 
 mal vows. 
 
 These important truths I have thought it my 
 duty to lay before you, with the hope, that 
 they will yet have some effect upon such as 
 are not lost to all the holy precepts of our re- 
 ligion : and with all others it were vain to ar- 
 gue, because success is desperate. 
 
 VOL. TI. N 
 
SERMON VL 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Oil the holy sacrament of the Lord's supper 
 
 Luke, Chap. 22, Verse 15. 
 
 ^ With desii'e I have desired to eat this passover with 
 you, before I suffer." 
 
 In a former discourse from these words, after 
 endeavouring to explain their occasion and 
 import, I directed your attention to a subject 
 which, though not expressly pointed out in 
 the text, has at least an intimate connection 
 with it; I mean the general neglect of that 
 holy ordinance instituted by our Lord when 
 he uttered the words of the text. With a 
 view to excite in you an eager desire to eat 
 the Christian passover which is to be celebra- 
 ted among us, I proposed, 
 
 1 . To point out the obligations which Chris- 
 tians are under to celebrate the holy sacra« 
 ment of the supper. 
 
SERMON VI. « 
 
 2. To point out some of those innumer- 
 able advantages which are derived from the 
 worthily receiving of the Lord's supper. And 
 
 3. To describe the preparation which is 
 necessary in order to discharge this duty in an 
 acceptable manner. 
 
 I. The first head of discourse we have al- 
 ready illustrated, and shewn, that all Chris- 
 tians are bound to celebrate the holy sacrament 
 by our Lord's express command — by love and 
 gratitude for what he has done for us, and for 
 the benefits which we derive from his death — 
 by a regard for the honour and success of re- 
 ligion — and by our baptismal vows. When 
 these considerations are duly weighed, I am 
 altogether at a loss to comprehend what it is 
 that prevents so many from cheerfully em- 
 bracing every opportunity to discharge a duty 
 so important. I cannot possibly suppose that 
 rational beings will sufler themselves to be in- 
 fluenced by false shame, or by fashion, or evil 
 example, in a matter of such infinite moment. 
 '^ For it is not a vain thing which we now de- 
 '* clare unto you : it is even your life." Nei- 
 ther will they who weigh the objects of time 
 and those of eternity in a fair balance, who im- 
 partially estimate pleasure and duty, be satis- 
 
9^ SERMON VI. 
 
 fied in their own minds with the excuse of 
 too much business or worldly engagement. 
 Much less will this excuse be accepted by the 
 great Judge, in whose estimation duty is par- 
 amount to every other obligation: whose lan- 
 guage is Thisoughtest thou to have done, and 
 not to leave the other done. The reason 
 therefore which prevents serious and consider- 
 ate persons from discharging so indispensable 
 and obvious a duty is, either, that they are 
 conscious of their being engaged in a ^inful 
 course of life inconsistent with the genius and 
 spirit of the Gospel, or they entertain such an 
 enthusiastick and conceited opinion of their 
 own righteousness and devotion, as to despise 
 the elements of ordinances, and to be above 
 the necessity of outward acts of religion. Or 
 perhaps they are far removed from either of 
 these extremes, but have not attained a full 
 assurance of faith, and are filled with doubts 
 and fears about their want of preparation, and 
 unfitness to make so solemn an approach unto 
 God. 
 
 With regard to those, who do not approach 
 the communion because they are engaged in 
 such vicious courses as render them unfit for 
 so solemn a service, it may be observed, that. 
 
SERMON VI. 93 
 
 they might as well on this account cease their 
 attendance on the Church, because they can- 
 not tread God's courts or otVer up prayers to 
 him in an acceptable manner. For the sacri- 
 fice of the wicked is an abomination to the 
 Lord at all times and in all places, in private 
 and in publick, in the ordinary as well as in 
 the more solemn exercises of religion. But 
 then you would do well to consider, that, if 
 you are unfit for the Church, you are also un- 
 fit for heaven; if your vices prevent you from 
 appearing among the friends of Jesus at his 
 table they will also exclude you from the 
 blessed society of his followers above. And 
 what a dreadful situation is this, when every 
 moment your fate may be decided either for 
 happiness or misery? Every person of com- 
 mon sense, who for a moment reflects on this, 
 must instantly resolve to remove this cause of 
 his neglect of the communion by sincere re- 
 pentance for his past sins, and a complete de- 
 sertion of his vicious courses for the future. 
 
 With regard to those who presume upon 
 their own righteousness for acceptance with 
 God, who think that they live good lives and 
 therefore have no occasion for the help of or- 
 dinances to repair their fall? or excite them to 
 
94 SERMON VI. 
 
 greater zeal and diligence, I must remind 
 them of the declaration of our Saviour, *' that 
 *' we are at best unprofitable servants/' And 
 of the assertion of St. John, '^ if we say that 
 ^^ we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and 
 *' the truth is not in us.'' Nay, so far from 
 being free from sin, in how many things will 
 not a candid man confess that he daily of- 
 fends? If we should avoid the more gross 
 transgressions of the law, yet how many fail- 
 ures and omissions, how many vain thoughts, 
 and foolish irregular desires, how many rash 
 and sinful expressions have we not all to an- 
 swer for? If, then, when we have done all 
 that man can do, we are still unprofitable ser- 
 vants, if we are all very far from doing whalf 
 God might in strict justice demand of us, then 
 tell me, ye who call yourselves, and who 
 would be thought by others, good moral men, 
 whether you do not want a Saviour and a Me- 
 diator? one who may interpose between God 
 and you ? one who may turn away his fierce 
 anger, and screen you from the dreadful ef- 
 fects of his indignation ? one who may, by his 
 own merit, supply the deficiency of your im- 
 perfect services? one that may intercede with 
 (?od to forgive your manifold sins and offences ? 
 
SERMON VI. 95 
 
 one who may pour on you the blessed influ- 
 ence of the Holy Spirit, to enable you to dis- 
 charge your duty for the time to come? If 
 then you do want such a Saviour, you must 
 carefully and conscientiously obey all that Sa- 
 viour's commands, before you can possibly be 
 $aved by him ; and as he has commanded you 
 to receive the holy sacrament, you must, with- 
 out any longer delay, shew your love for his 
 memory, and your obedience to his command, 
 by doing this in remembrance of him. 
 
 With regard to those who go to neither of 
 these extremes, who are not conscious of in- 
 dulging in vicious courses, nor vainly presume 
 upon their own righteousness, but who are 
 compassed about with many cares and infir- 
 mities, and therefore think themselves unfit 
 for so solemn an approach to God, it may be 
 observed, that, the Gospel always leaves room 
 for reconciliation and restoration upon repen- 
 tance and amendment of life. Nothing can 
 make us unworthy to receive the sacrament, 
 but our resolving to continue unworthy. If 
 we repent sincerely of our past sins and resolve 
 to lead a new life for the future, then we may 
 safely go to the sacrament. ** For Christ 
 ** came not to call the righteous, but sinners 
 
96 SERMON VI. 
 
 <* to repentance." The fountain of his blood 
 was purposely opened to wash away and 
 cleanse the guilt of those sins and that un- 
 cleanness which is sincerely repented of and 
 forsaken. Therefore if we are truly sincere, 
 if we seriously and earnestly desire to serve 
 God to the best of our power, we need not 
 forbear going to the sacrament from an appre- 
 hension of our unworthiness; because this 
 sense of our unworthiness, with a serious and 
 sincere desire to become better, an humble 
 and thankful remembrance of Christ's death, 
 a lively faith in. God's mercies through him, 
 and love and charity for all the world, are the 
 best qualifications which we can possibly 
 bring with us to the holy sacrament. 
 
 Thus, my brethren, have I pointed out the 
 indispensable obligations you are under to cel- 
 ebrate the Lord's supper, and have shewn 
 that' in no case are you excusable for neglec- 
 ting this ordinance. And here I leave the 
 matter to God and to your own conscience. I 
 have set before you life and death ; and my 
 words will not return empty, whether you hear 
 or whether you forbear. 
 
 II. I now proceed to the second head of 
 discourse, which is, to point out some of those 
 
SERMON Vr. 9t 
 
 innumerable advantages which are derived 
 from the worthily receiving of the Lord's sup- 
 per. 
 
 The benefits derived from the proper per- 
 formance of this duty are of two kinds ; such 
 as naturally flow from it, and such as arc in- 
 separably annexed to it. 
 
 Among the former we may reckon first a sin- 
 cere sorrow for sin, an utter abhorence of it^ 
 and a determination to forsake it for ever. 
 When we see with our eyes, and hear with 
 our ears, and handle with our hands its bitter 
 fruits, in the sufferings of our Redeemer^ it is 
 impossible not to feel compunction of soul 
 and self-condemnation for having been the 
 cause of so much wo to our greatest and best 
 friend. When we behold how abominable sin 
 is in the sight of God, so as to draw down his 
 indignation even on the son of his love, how can 
 we any longer dare to continue therein ? The 
 very solemnity of the approach to the table must 
 tend powerfully to make us stand in awe and 
 sin not. The consideration of the public profes- 
 sion we have made to live blameless and with- 
 out guile will ever afterwards be present to our 
 minds, as a salutaiy check, when we are 
 tempted to commit sin. Our language wil! 
 
95 SERMON VL 
 
 be, *'how can I do this great wickedness who 
 ^' have been at the table of the Lord/* In 
 short, the very preparation requisite for this 
 ordinance, the self-examination implied in it, 
 must have a happy tendency to shew us our 
 true state and character, to guard us against sin 
 and to excite us to greater purity and diligence. 
 Further, the sacrament has a natural tenden- 
 cy to strengthen and confirm our faith. It 
 subjects what is distant and unseen to the tes- 
 timony of our senses. It brings the wonder- 
 ful scenes transacted on Calvary full in our 
 view. It shews us the accomplishment of the 
 divine predictions. It assures us of the immu- 
 tability of thedivine love, and of God's fidelity 
 to his promises; for if he spared not his own 
 son, but delivered him up to the death for us 
 all, how shall he not with him also freely give 
 us all things? In short, it shews us by the most 
 lively emblems the abihty and willingness of 
 our Saviour to save us to the uttermost. What 
 will not he do for us who humbled himself 
 for our sakes even unto death? And must not 
 he be an all-sufficient Saviour who was made 
 perfect through sufferings? Who learned obe- 
 dience by the things which he endured? Who 
 having suffered being tempted is both able and 
 willing to succour those who are tempted ? 
 
SERMON VI. 99 
 
 Again, the boly sacrament is naturally cal- 
 culated to awaken our love and gratitude to 
 our God and Redeemer. While we hold in 
 our hands the visible emblems of our Savioufs 
 body broken and blood shed for our sins, we 
 cannot possibly be so insensible as not to feel 
 our hearts burn within us at the recollection 
 of what he has done for us. While we are 
 actually partaking of the benefits derived from 
 his death, we cannot but feel emotions of gra- 
 titude and thankfulness. We will then feel 
 the love of Christ constraining us to love him 
 who first loved us. W^e will then think noth- 
 ing too much to do, or too much to suffer, for 
 so generous and beneficent a Saviour. It is 
 wonderful to observe the mighty influence 
 which tokens or memorials of love and friend- 
 ship have over the human mind. A ring or 
 a picture will call up a remembrance on which 
 the heart delights to dwell, and will revive a 
 love or friendship which distance of time or 
 place, or the interruptions of pleasure and 
 connections, had well nigh erased from the 
 heart. And shall the memorials of the 
 most wonderful love and friendship which 
 ever existed among men have no effect on 
 the hearts of those whg are the objects of it? 
 
100 SERMON VL 
 
 A natural effect of communicating must be 
 the strengthening of that love and charity 
 which we ought to entertain for our brethren, 
 especially those of the household of faith. 
 The sacrament is a bond of union among all 
 true believers. While it unites them all to 
 Christ, it unites them also to one another ; for 
 we are required to keep the feast, not with the 
 leaven of malice and wickedness, and to be 
 reconciled to our brother, before we offer sa- 
 crifice at God's altar. While we are seated at 
 the same table, and partakers of the same 
 feast, we cannot possibly look upon one an- 
 other as enemies, " for how can two sit to- 
 ^^ gether, unless they be agreed ?'' Nay we 
 must necessarily look upon all our fellow- 
 communicants as brethren and friends, as ser- 
 ving the same master, believing the same truths, 
 walking by the same rule, entertaining the 
 same hopes, and journeying to the same coun^ 
 try. And how comely is it for brethren to 
 dw^ell together m unity? How unseemly for 
 fellow'-travellers to quarrel by the way ? How 
 natural for those who have similar interests 
 and pursuits to maintain kindness and con- 
 cord ? 
 
 The second kind of advantages derived from 
 
SERMON VI. 101 
 
 this ordinance, are such as are inseparably 
 annexed to it when worthily received. Among 
 these, the first is, the confirmation of the par- 
 don of our sins. For to those who receive the 
 outward elements with true faith, they signify, 
 seal and apply Christ and all the benefits of 
 his death ; of v hich forgiveness and recon- 
 ciliation to God are the principal. Not that 
 the performance of this outward act, or even 
 that faith which accompanies it and renders it 
 acceptable in the sight of God, will entitle us 
 to paidon as a matter of right. We all know 
 that the meritorious cause of justification is the 
 righteousness of Jesus Christ. Faith is merely 
 an instrument which appropriates his merits to 
 ourselves. But as our receiving the symbols 
 of his body and blood in the holy sacrament 
 is an outward sign, on our part, of our in- 
 wardly accepting him by faith, so the celebra- 
 tion of this ordinance is a sign on God's part 
 of that inward act of justification which is al- 
 ready passed, in virtue of Christ's merit, on 
 all who sincerely believe. As the bow in the 
 cloud in the day of rain is not the reason why 
 God will not destroy the world by a deluge 
 any more, but merely a memorial of God's 
 promise to that effect, and therefore a con- 
 
iO^ SERMON VI. 
 
 firmatlon and assurance to men that the world 
 will not be destroyed as heretofore, so the 
 sacred rite of the Lord's supper is a declara- 
 tion, a token, a proof that an expiation has 
 been made for the sins of men, that God is 
 now appeased and reconciled to his offending 
 offspring, that the hand writing against us is 
 destroyed, that we are now brought near by 
 the blood of the cross, and may approach unto 
 God as children to a father. And what an 
 unspeakable advantage is this, to have the 
 testimony of our senses corresponding to the 
 witness of our spirits, that we are the children 
 of God ? That as our bodies are refreshed by 
 bread, so our souls are healed by the stripes 
 laid on Christ's body, and as the wine restores 
 the sick and invigorates the whole, so our 
 souls, dead in trespasses and sins, are revived 
 and sanctified by Christ's blood ? The cup of 
 blessing which we bless is it not the com- 
 munion of the blood of Christ ? And the bread 
 which we break is it not the communion of 
 the body of Christ ? *' I am the living bread,'* 
 said our Saviour, *' 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 
 
SERMON Vr. 103 
 
 *' life of the world. Whoso eatcth my flesh 
 **and drinketh my blood hath eternal life, 
 '^ and I will raise him up at the last day, for 
 *' my flesh is meat indeed, aiul my blood is 
 ^' drink indeed." 
 
 Another advantage enjoyed by the worthy 
 receivers of the Lord's supper, is the confirma- 
 tion of their union with Jesus Christ, and a 
 more intimate communion with God. The 
 sacrament is the nearest approach to God that 
 we can make on this side the grave : in it he 
 is not only essentially present, as he is in every 
 place, and graciously present, as he is in all 
 the assemblies of his saints, but here he is 
 present in an especial manner, he is even 
 present, in some respect, to the senses of the 
 worshippers. For though we shall not be so 
 impious and absurd as to say that the outward 
 elements are converted into the real body and 
 blood of Christ, yet there can be no doubt 
 that they who rightly discern the Lord, elevate 
 their thoughts from the bread and wine to that 
 divine being whom they represent and signify. 
 They see him w^ho is invisible. They feel 
 that solemn awe which the presence of divinity 
 inspires. They are filled with that holy rap- 
 ture which Jacob felt when he awoke from a 
 
104 SERMON VI. 
 
 dream wherein he had been favoured Witli 
 heavenly manifestations : ** How awful is this 
 '' place ! surely the Lord is here, and I knew 
 '^ it not; this is none other than the house of 
 *' God, and this is the gate of heaven/' In 
 like manner frequent participation of the holy 
 sacrament tends to unite us more closely to 
 our Redeemer. For, as the bread and wine 
 which we eat and drink become our own, 
 and are incorporated with our bodies, so, if, in 
 a spiritual and metaphorical sense, we feed 
 upon Christ by faith, he is, as it were, formed 
 within us ; we imbibe his spirit, we copy his 
 example, we derive life, and nourishment, and 
 strength from him ; we become united to him 
 as the wife is to the husband, we become flesh 
 of his flesh, and bone of his bone. '* He that 
 *' eateth my flesh and drinketh by blood,'* 
 saith our Lord, '' dwelleth in me, and I in 
 '* him. As the living father hath sent me, and 
 *' I live by the father; so, he that eateth me, 
 *' even he shall live by me." 
 
 A farther advantage, inseparably attached 
 to the worthy receiving of the Lord's supper., 
 is the communication of the Holy Spirit. The 
 bread and wine are no more than the outward 
 and visible signs of an inward and spiritual 
 
SERMON VI. 106 
 
 grace ; and these signs were ordained by Christ 
 himself, as the means by which we receive 
 this grace, and as pledges to assure us of its 
 fulness : what our daily food is to our bodies, 
 that the grace of God is to our souls. As the 
 former contributes to increase our stature, and 
 to repair the decays of nature, so does the latter 
 contribute to make us grow in grace and 
 knowledge, to proceed from one degree of 
 holiness to another, till we come to the stature 
 of perfect men, to the measure of the stature 
 of the fulness of Christ. This communication 
 of the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit, is 
 universally represented in scripture as a feast 
 to the soul, as the mean by which the Chris- 
 tian life is maintained, revived and invigor- 
 ated. It is also, invariably, promised to those 
 who are found in the way of duty, who seek 
 it in the ordinances of God's appointment, 
 who, clothed with the wedding garment, par- 
 take of that sumptuous banquet, that feast of 
 fat tilings y of wines on the lees well refined j, 
 which is provided for us in the sacrament of 
 the supper. To prove this we need not search 
 with much diligence the volume of revelation, 
 the language of which is every where exprrss 
 to this purpose. It will be sufficient to appeal 
 
 VOL. II. p 
 
106 SERMON VI. 
 
 to every devout worshipper, and ask whether^ 
 at the table of the Lord, he has not actually 
 felt the gracious presence of the Divinity, and 
 the rich communications of his grace ? While 
 you handle the emblems of your Saviour's 
 broken body and shed blood, has not your 
 sorrow for your past sins and failings been 
 wonderfully awakened and increased ? has not 
 your faith been strengthened and confirmed ? 
 Las not your love to God glowed with a stronger 
 flame ? have not your minds been refreshed 
 and comforted ? have not the clouds of igno- 
 rance and doubt been dispelled ? have not 
 pious thoughts and virtuous resolutions sprung 
 up within you ? has not your wish been, that, 
 you could continue for ever in such delightful 
 company and exercise ? and have you not 
 arisen from this table more fortified against 
 temptation, more vigorous for the discharge 
 of your duty, more joyful in your own minds, 
 more elevated above the vain pursuits of earth, 
 and more desirous of the exercises and joys of 
 heaven ? 
 
 This leads me to observe, in the last place, 
 that, the worthy partakers of the Lord's sup- 
 per, enjoy peace of mmd, in this hfe, and the 
 comfortable assurance of happiness in the 
 
SERMON VI. lor 
 
 future. *' My peace I leave with you," says 
 our Lord ; '' my peace I give unto you ; not 
 '* as the world giveth, give I unto you." This 
 solemn approach unto God diffuses over the 
 mind a calm serenity of temper, a dignified 
 superiority to the world and all its enjoyments, 
 to which the children of the earth are stran- 
 gers. As the hlood sprinkled on the lintels 
 and the door-posts of the Israelites freed them 
 from all apprehension of the visits of the de- 
 stroying angel, so the sacrament of the supper 
 gives rest to the weary and heavy laden, 
 speaks peace to the troubled conscience, and 
 silences the accusations of the guilty, by signi- 
 fying and sealing the application of Christ's 
 blood to our soul. It teaches us to look upon 
 ourselves as the sons of God, and therefore to 
 consider all the calamities and afflictions of 
 life as the merciful chastisements of a kind 
 father. It teaches them that they are the 
 friends of the most high, and therefore they 
 need fear no evil. It teaches them to consider 
 themselves as candidates for heaven, and there- 
 fore to keep on their way rejoicing, undisturbed 
 by the hopes or fears, the successes or disap- 
 pointments of this transitory life. It even 
 disarms death of it? sting, for it shews our Lord 
 
lOS SERMON VI. 
 
 as experiencing the horrours of death and the 
 grave, and therefore as ready to compassionate 
 and succour his followers. It teaches us that 
 as he died and rose again, so all those who 
 sleep in Jesus shall awake from the sleep of 
 death, and rise and live for ever. Being com- 
 manded to be observed 'till he shall come 
 again, it is particularly calculated to impress 
 on our minds the expectation of that awful 
 and glorious day when he shall come in the 
 glory of his father, and attended by his holy 
 angels. For as he was once offered to bear 
 the sins of many, so to those who look for him 
 (and we cannot do so in a better manner than 
 by frequent commemoration of his death) he 
 will appear the second time without sin unto 
 salvation. In a word, at this feast there is 
 fulness of joy and rivers of pleasure. None 
 ever came to it duly prepared who was sent 
 empty away. None who ever partook thereof 
 with suitable affections of soul, arose from this 
 table dissatisfied, or with an ungratified desire. 
 All worthy receivers sit under the shadow of 
 this tree of life with great delight, and find the 
 fruit thereof sweet to their taste. Greater joy 
 is diffused through their soul, by the light of 
 God's countenance, than the wicked know 
 
SERMON VI. 109 
 
 when their corn and wine do most ahound. 
 Nor is their joy transitory and deceitful Hke 
 that of the world. To endless ages shall they 
 have cause to bless the time when they retired 
 from the vanities of earth and learned to med- 
 itate at the table of the Lord. 
 
 III. I should now proceed to the third head 
 of discourse, which is to point out the prepa- 
 ration necessary to make us acceptable guests 
 at the table of the Lord. But feeling that I 
 am already exhausted in strength, and that the 
 time allo-tted for this day's duty is well nigh 
 spent, I shall defer this interesting subject for 
 the present : we shall at another season, my 
 brethren, discourse on this topick at large. I 
 shall therefore conclude with a reflection or 
 two relating to the subject. Nor can I state 
 them in a more comprehensive or correct man- 
 ner, than by repeating the answer given in 
 that complete and admirable system of divinity, 
 our larger catechism, to this question ; ** How 
 *' are they that receive the sacrament of the 
 *' Lord's supper to prepare themselves before 
 ^' they come unto it ?" *' They that receive 
 *' the sacrament of the Lord's supper, are, be- 
 *^ fore ihey come, to prepare themselves there- 
 " unto, by examining themselvesof their being 
 
110 SERMON VI. 
 
 *^ in Christ, of their sins and wants, of the truth 
 ** and measure of their knowledge, faith, re- 
 '^ pentance ; love to God and the brethren ; 
 *^ charity to all men ; forgiving those that have 
 *^ done them wrong ; of their desires after 
 *' Christ, and of their new obedience ; and by 
 '* renewing the exercises of these graces by 
 '^ serious meditation and fervent prayer/* Let 
 a man examine himself, says St. Paul, and 
 so let him eat of that bread and drink of that 
 cup. Examine yourselves, whether ye be 
 in the faith ; prove your own selves. Purge 
 out the old leaven that ye may be as a new 
 lump : let no contentions or divisions be among 
 you, for we being many are one bread and 
 one body ; for we are all partakers of that one 
 bread. Let us keep the feast, not with old 
 leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and 
 wickedness, but with the unleavened bread 
 of sincerity and truth. *' If thou bring thy 
 ** gift to the altar,'' said our Lord, *' and there 
 *' rememberest that thy brother hath ought 
 '^ against thee, leave there thy gift before the 
 '* altar, and go thy way : first be reconciled to 
 ^' thy brother, and then come and offer thy 
 *' gift." '' I will wash mine hands in inno- 
 *' cence,'* said the Psalmist, '' so will I com- 
 
SERMON VL 111 
 
 ** pass thine altar, O Lord/' " Let us draw 
 '* near," says St. Paul, *' with a true heart, in 
 '* full assurance of faith, having our hearts 
 '* sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our 
 '^ bodies washed with pure water.'* And the 
 good Lord pardon every one that prepareth 
 his heart to seek God, though he be not clean- 
 sed according to the purification of the sanc- 
 tuary. 
 
m 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 On Charity ; the ohligatio7is, sanctions a7id mo^ 
 fives to the discharge of its numerous duties. 
 
 1. CoRiN. Chap. 14, Verse 1. 
 " Follow after charity." 
 
 How misery and pain were introduced into 
 a world framed by infinite goodness, and gov- 
 erned with perfect wisdom, is a question 
 which has presented itself to the mind of every 
 reflecting man. Whether the sorrows and 
 sufferings which abound in the universe, ori- 
 ginally formed a part of the divine plan, and 
 are a necessary ingredient in a probationary 
 state ; or whether they are a derangement of 
 the original system, and the consequence of 
 a deviation from the laws which the Creator 
 appointed to the moral beings on whom they 
 are inflicted ; or whether they are not partly 
 the effect of both these causes, appears beyond 
 the limits of human sagacity to determine. 
 
SERMON Vir. us 
 
 The fact, however, is not the less certain 
 because we are unable to discover the cause. 
 Proceeding in this journey of human life, we, 
 here and there, meet with a few scattered 
 spots where the fruit of enjoyment grows ; but 
 the far greater part of our road presents to our 
 view nothmg but a bleak and desert wilder- 
 ness, where no beauty or verdure is to be 
 seen. Happy are we if briars and thorns do 
 not obstruct our path, if rocks and precipices 
 do not beset us on every hand. 
 
 But a question of more practical impor- 
 tance occurs ; Does this diminution of our 
 enjoyment add nothing to our virtue ? Yes, 
 certainly. If no dangers were to be avoided, 
 and no wants to be supplied, feeble would be 
 the motives to industry and exertion, which 
 are the great laws of our nature, and the chief 
 sources of our improvement. Were no suf- 
 fering to be endured, patience could not have 
 its perfect work. If we were mutually inde- 
 pendent, friendship, the balm of life, and love, 
 the sweetener of society, would be unknown 
 in the world. Were there no objects of dis- 
 tress, compassion would be an useless princi- 
 ple in the human frame. If, by an equal 
 distribution of fortune, the poor were removed 
 
 VOL. II. Q 
 
114 SERMON VIL 
 
 out of the land, we could have no opportune 
 ty of practising works of charity and mercy. 
 When, therefore, we peruse the page of 
 history and read the details of the various 
 calamities, miseries and disasters, which, in 
 every age, have happened, at one time to 
 individuals, at another time to nations ; when, 
 in our own days, we behold in one quarter 
 of the earth the horrours of war and famine, 
 in another multitudes flying from their homes 
 to avoid the assassin and the murderer, wan- 
 dering in exile and pining in poverty ; when 
 we see, in a third, fair and flourishing cities 
 laid in ashes by the devouring element of 
 fire, their inhabitants cast upon the wide 
 world without habitation, and the industry of 
 many years blasted in a moment : when 
 around us and among us we behold many 
 labouring under disease, when we hear the 
 cry of the needy and the oppressed, and see 
 the tears of the widow and the fatherless, let 
 us not idly spend our time in inquiring how 
 all this comes to pass, in reasoning about its 
 consistency with the attributes of God, or in 
 speculation concerning the causes and pur- 
 poses of such an arrangement. On tlie con- 
 trary, let us encourage sentiments of pity and 
 
SERMON VII. 115 
 
 compassion ; let us consider the miseries and 
 distresses of our fellow-men as the best lessons 
 which our great preceptor in holiness can 
 give us for the improvement of our social vir- 
 tues ; let us cheerfully embrace the oppor- 
 tunity presented to us of promoting the hap- 
 piness of the world, by relieving the distressed, 
 consoling the wretched, feeding the hungry 
 and clothing the naked. We shall thus con- 
 vert the unavoidable calamities of life into a 
 nurse of the most pleasing and amiable feel- 
 ing of the heart. Compassion, and its fairest 
 daughter, Charity, 
 
 In the language of sacred writ, charity has 
 for the most part a different meaning from its 
 usual acceptation in common language. In 
 the former, it expresses that general principle 
 of love to our neighbour, which leads us to 
 benevolent thoughts and beneficent actions of 
 every kind. In common language it is more 
 limited, being applied only to a particular 
 exertion of this general principle, and denotes 
 either that disposition which leads us -to enter- 
 tain a candid and favourable opinion of others ; 
 or that good will which is expressed in reliev- 
 ing the distresses and supplying the wants of 
 the poor and the wretched. 
 
lie SERMON VII. 
 
 Having, on a former occasion, discoursed 
 to you of charity in its more general and ex- 
 tensive sense, as signifying tlie same thing 
 with the love of our neighbour. I shall now 
 endeavour to prevail upon all who hear me to 
 follow after chariti/ in its more limited sense, 
 '' to deal their bread to the hungry, to bring 
 ^' the poor that are cast out to their house, 
 <^ when they see the naked to cover them, 
 *' and not to hide themselves from their own 
 ^* flesh." 
 
 In discussing this subject I propose 
 
 I. To explain the obligations we are under 
 io follow after charity, 
 
 II. To consider the excuses which men em- 
 ploy to justify themselves to the world, and to 
 satisfy their own minds, for the neglect of this 
 duty. 
 
 III. To suggest some directions for the ex- 
 ercise of this duty ; and 
 
 IV. Lastly, to state those motives which 
 should induce you Xo follow after charity : 
 
 A plan, you will easily perceive, too ex- 
 tensive to be fully discussed in one discourse ; 
 but you have so often heard and are all so well 
 acquainted with topicks of this nature, that it 
 would be an affront to vou to consider the 
 
SERMON Vll. U7 
 
 matter too minutely ; and you will readily 
 excuse me for saving you the trouble of listen- 
 ing to familiar truths. 
 
 I. The obligatioji of this duty will require 
 only a very short discussion ; for however 
 men may excuse themselves in particular 
 cases, and differ about the extent in which 
 charity ought to be practised, few are disposed 
 to dispute the duty itself. 
 
 That charity is a duty will appear with the 
 fullest evidence, if we listen to the voice of 
 naturCy of conscience^ and of revelation. 
 
 In a state of nature it is evident that all men 
 have an equal right to the earth and its pro* 
 ductions. But this state, if it ever existed, 
 could only be momentary. Possession itself 
 would constitute an exclusive right, and every 
 man would consider as his own the spot 
 which his body occupied, and the tree under 
 the shade of which he reclined. Superiour 
 wisdom, strength and industry, in conjunc- 
 tion with the kind aspect of providence, would 
 soon procure to those who possessed them a 
 larger share of the good things of this life. 
 The skilful and diligent would become rich ; 
 the idle and ignorant, unable to avail them- 
 selves of their natural rights, w^ould sink into 
 
118 SERMON VII. 
 
 poverty and want. Thus would things pro- 
 ceed, until the present compUcated fabrick of 
 society was reared : 'till that distinction of 
 ranks, that inequality of fortune and condition 
 commenced, in consequence of which we 
 behold some clothed in purple and fine linen 
 and faring sumptuously every day, while 
 others can scarcely procure rags sufficient to 
 defend them against the severities of the sea- 
 son, and are glad to feed on the crumbs that 
 fall from the tables of the great. 
 
 In such a state of society are we placed. 
 Let us, then, inquire what claim the poor, in 
 this situation, have on the bounty of the rich. 
 I am far from saying that men are not entitled 
 to the fruit of their industry and good fortune ; 
 and that they ought to deny themselves the 
 conveniences of life till all their neighbours 
 have an equal share. But one thing you must 
 allow, namely, that whatever you possess, 
 properly speaking, belongs to the Almighty ; 
 for as you derive all things, even life itself, 
 from his bounty, you can only consider your- 
 selves as stewards of what he has given you. 
 If you obtained your possessions by inherit- 
 ance, it certainly was not owing to your own 
 merit that vou were born in affluence. If 
 
SERMON VII. 119 
 
 your riches have been acquhed by the exertion 
 of your talents and industry, yH remember 
 that these are the gift of God, and that, without 
 the blessing of heaven, the best directed exer- 
 tions will prove ineffectual. You may plant 
 and water, but God alone giveth the increase. 
 It is he who sendeth rain and fruitful seasons, 
 filling us with food and gladness. It is the 
 dew of heaven which maketh grass to grow for 
 the cattle, and corn for the food of man. The 
 wind bloweth where it listeth ; and, without 
 the orders of him whom winds and waves 
 obey, it will not waft your vessel to its destined 
 port. Except the Lord build the house, they 
 labour in vain that build it : except the Lord^ 
 keep the city, the watchman wake but in vain. 
 If therefore those good things which for a time 
 are intrusted to your management are not your 
 own, but the property of heaven, the obvious 
 inference is, that you are bound to employ 
 them in the manner which heaven has pointed 
 out. 
 
 Another thing which you must allow is, 
 that the poor as well as the rich are the children 
 of their common father in heaven . But where 
 is the father who does not allow his children 
 food and raiment ? Has a wise and good being 
 
isro SERMON VII. 
 
 brought into existence creatures for whose 
 subsistence he has not provided ? By an ar- 
 rangement the most admirable and perfect, 
 ample provision is made by the Almighty for 
 the support of all his works. He clothes the 
 lilies of the field ; he feeds the fowls of the 
 air : he gives to the beasts of the forest their 
 meat in due season. And is his rational crea- 
 tion, who are much better than they, and on 
 whom he has stamped his own image, to be 
 alone neglected and left a prey to misery and 
 want ? No, certainly. The most poor and 
 wretched have provision made for them. It 
 is the will of heaven that they should subsist. 
 And where is this provision made but in the 
 abundance and superfluity of the rich ? To 
 this therefore they have a claim ; it is provided 
 for them. If the bounty of the rich be the 
 only means of their subsistence, it is plainly 
 the will of God that they should partake of it. 
 And the ivill of God is the duty of man. 
 
 It thus appears to be the law of nature, that 
 the rich should bestow a part of their goods to 
 relieve the poor. It is likewise the law of 
 conscience, which is nothing but the voice of 
 God speaking within us, with no less certainty 
 and efficacy than his works speak without. 
 
SERMON Vli. 12 1 
 
 For every man, who has not entirely eradicated 
 all the sentiments of humanity, must be con^ 
 scious, that there is a principle of cJompassion 
 in our frame which leads us to weep with 
 those who weep, and to sympathize with our 
 neighbour in distress. He who can contem- 
 plate the miseries of others without concern, 
 who, like the priest and levite in the gospel, 
 can behold with indifference his sick and 
 wounded and needy brother, and pass by un- 
 moved, is a monster in human shape, and in- 
 stead of obeying, he drowns that voice which 
 would inform him of his duty. 
 
 But though we may suppress the feelings of 
 nature, we cannot silence the voice of revela- 
 tion, the commands of which are equally posi-^ 
 live on this subject, and occur in numberless 
 passages both of the Old and New Testament. 
 What says Moses, and what says Jesus Christ 
 with regard to the poor and the afflicted ? 
 Thus spake the Lord to his people the Jews : 
 -** If there be among you a poor man, of one 
 " of thy brethren, within any of the gates of 
 ** the land which the Lord thy God giveth 
 '* thee, thou shalt not harden thy heart, nor 
 ** shut thine hand from thy poor brother. 
 ** Thou shalt surely give him, and thine hearl: 
 
 V©L. II, 1 
 
12£ SERMON VII. 
 
 *' shall not be grieved when thou givest unto 
 
 '^ him, because that for this thing the Lord thy 
 
 '* God shall bless thee in all thy works and in 
 
 *' all thou puttest thine hand unto. For the 
 
 *^ poor shall never cease out of the land : 
 
 <* therefore I command thee saying, thou 
 
 '* shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, 
 
 ^* to thy poor and to thy needy in thy land.'' 
 
 Throughout the New Testament, charity 
 
 holds the first rank among all the virtues, and 
 
 is recommended on a liberal and extensive 
 
 plan ; not being confined to our own kindred 
 
 and nation, but comprehending w^ithin its 
 
 wide embrace the whole race of man. It is 
 
 called the bond of perfection ; it is considered 
 
 as the only infallible test of our character, 
 
 without which the possession of every other 
 
 virtue is unavailing, or indeed unattainable. 
 
 ** Though I speak with the tongue of men and 
 
 "■ of angels,'' says St. Paul, '' though I have 
 
 *' the gift of prophecy, and understand all 
 
 '* mysteries and all knowledge, and though 
 
 *' I have all faith, so that I could remove 
 
 ** mountains, and have not charity, I am 
 
 '' nothing." *' Whoso hath this world's 
 
 <« goods," says St. John, '' and seeth hisbroth- 
 
 " er have need, and shutteth up his bowels of 
 
SERMON VII. 123 
 
 *• compassion from him, how dwellcth the 
 *' love of God in him ?" In short, our Saviour 
 has expressly taught us that by works of char- 
 ity and mercy our fate shall be determined at 
 the last day. 
 
 II. From what has been now said, the obli- 
 gation of charity clearly appears ; but while 
 men allow the obligation in general, they are 
 always inventing pretences and excuses for 
 neglecting it in particular cases. The validity 
 of these I now proceed to consider. 
 
 1. The majority of mankind apologize for 
 refusing to relieve the distressed, by saying 
 that charity is a duty incumbent only on the 
 rich ; their income is sufficient for the support 
 only of themselves and their families, and after 
 their necessary expenses are paid, they have 
 nothing to spare for objects of distress. This 
 excuse, when made with sincerity and truth, 
 is so far good that no man is required to give 
 beyond his ability. But you cannot be igno- 
 rant that the smallness of the sum you can 
 afford to give, does not diminish the obligation 
 or lessen your merit. You are bound to give 
 your little, as much as the rich to give out of 
 their abundance ; and if you give with a wil- 
 ling mind, you will be accepted according to 
 
|24 SERMON VIL 
 
 what you have, and not according to what you 
 have not. You remember the poor widow, 
 who cast all her living into the treasury for the 
 poor, and whose two mites were of more value 
 in the sight of God than all the gifts of the 
 rich. 
 
 But, farther, let me ask you, by what rule 
 you determine that which is necessary, or 
 that which is competent ? If you are directed 
 by the maxims and opinions of the world, you 
 follow a very erroneous guide. Nay more, 
 be your riches what they may, they will never 
 exceed competence, and of course you will 
 never be rich enough to give any thing away. 
 If you follow your own inclinations in this 
 matter, and suppose every thing necessary, 
 which is necessary to feed your vanity and 
 pride, to gratify your love of pleasure and 
 amusement, to satisfy every whim and caprice, 
 then, to get rid of this duty, you have only to 
 become voluptuous and ostentatious, dissolute 
 and profuse. In proportion as the passions 
 you have to gratify increase, your obligation 
 to works of goodness will diminish, and that 
 multitude of sins and follies, which we are told 
 charity will cover, will only prove an apology 
 for peglecting its performaijpe. 
 
SERMON VIL H^ 
 
 How inconsistent are the opinions and con^ 
 duct of men. On every other occasion, how 
 unwilling are they to confess their poverty. 
 How often, to keep up the reputation of be- 
 ing wealthy, do they endeavour to conceal a 
 real derangement of affairs by expensive ap- 
 pearances of pomp and show. 1 heir vanity 
 forsakes them only when reminded of the 
 duties of charity and mercy ; then they not 
 only confess, but exaggerate their poverty ; 
 their hardness of heart gets the better not only 
 of their virtue, but even of their vanity itself. 
 Now will any one be imposed on by so shal- 
 low an excuse as that which is thus proposed, 
 when he considers your manner of life ? You 
 are too poor to spare a rag to cover the naked- 
 ness of your brother, but you are rich enough 
 to spend immense sums in the decoration of 
 your own person. You are too poor to be- 
 stow a trifle to purchase a crutch for the lame, 
 but you are rich enough to keep a splendid 
 equipage for your own convenience and in- 
 dulgence. You are too poor to give a morsel 
 of bread to him who is ready to perish, but 
 you are rich enough to spend in a single en- 
 tertainment for your friends, who stand in no 
 need of your bounty, what would have dif- 
 
126 SERMON VIL 
 
 fused happiness through a helpless family for 
 a whole year. You have money enough to 
 stake at the gaming table, and have you none 
 to lay out for the prize of the high-calling of 
 God in Jesus Christ ? 
 
 2. Some men complain of the wayward- 
 ness of the times, of losses and misfortunes 
 which they have sustained, of unsuccessful 
 trade, and of unprofitable seasons, vvhich 
 make it difficult for themselves to live in their 
 former style, and consequently exempt them 
 from every obligation to charity. But if such 
 men would duly examine their own character 
 and conduct,' in them, perhaps, they would 
 discover the source of such disastrous events. 
 They would, perhaps, discern the hand of 
 God lifted up to avenge the cause of the poor, 
 (whose cries ascend to heaven against the il- 
 liberal and hard-hearted,) to punish the rich 
 for their want of compassion, and to convince 
 them that they ought not to be so sparing of 
 what does not properly belong to them, and 
 of which they may so easily be deprived. 
 Such events, then, are intended to promote 
 and not to extinguish charily. Endeavour, 
 therefore, by works of charity and mercy, by 
 prayers and alms, to recover the favour of 
 
SERMON VII. 127 
 
 God. Heaven frowns on the unfeeling miser, 
 but ever looks with kind regard on the boun- 
 rtiful and generous. Your land will again 
 yield its Increase ; success will accompany 
 your endeavours ; and riches will yet flow in 
 abundance. 
 
 And if a change of circumstances make 
 some retrenchments necessary, why begin 
 with that which you owe to the poor ? Re- 
 trench your pleasures ; retrench your amuse- 
 ments ; retrench your attendants ; retrench 
 your vices, before you retrench your duties. 
 
 Lastly, if j/()wr situation be uneasy in times 
 of general misfortune and distress, think seri- 
 ously what must be the situation of those who 
 can with difficulty subsist in the best of times. 
 Tlien, more than ever, is your assistance re- 
 quired, when no works are carried on to em- 
 ploy the active and industrious; when the 
 small pittance which they obtain from their 
 own exertions and the charity of the humane, 
 is so soon swallowed up by the high price of 
 provisions ; and when the season of the year 
 forbids their being dispersed into asylums of 
 distress. 
 
 3. Many men excuse themselves by say- 
 ing, that the demands upon them are so fre- 
 
1^8 SERMON Vlt 
 
 qucnt that their charity is altogether exhaus- 
 ted, and that were they to give something to 
 every one who asks relief, nothing would be 
 left for the support of their own family. Strange 
 it is that the very circumstance which should 
 excite your liberality, makes you the more 
 uncharitable. The great number of the un- 
 fortunate is the reason why your charity is so 
 loudly called for. If few persons were to be 
 relieved your bounty would be the less neces- 
 sary, at least, necessary in a less degree. 
 But in times of hardship and want, no man 
 who is himself above the fear of want, ought 
 to withhold his mite. 
 
 Your concern for the interests of your fami- 
 ly is laudable. '* If you provide not for your 
 ^* own, especially for those of your own 
 ^* house, you have denied the faith and are 
 *' worse than an infidel.'' Perhaps too indus- 
 try and economy are the best bestowed chari- 
 ty ; for they may prevent you and your de- 
 scendants from becoming a future burden on 
 the publick. But think how much a small 
 matter saved from your daily expenses, and of 
 no consequence to you, would add to the 
 happiness of the poor, and you will not surely 
 i!»efuse to deny yourself a luxury, when, by 
 
SERMON Vir, 12D 
 
 doing so, you can save a number of your 
 hungry and naked and houseless brethrcii. 
 from misery and death. 
 
 The reason why we feel charity so great a 
 burden is, that our charity is extended upon 
 no settled plan, but is merely accidental. In 
 general all our income is applied to the pur- 
 poses of our own expenditure, and, of course, 
 every farthing given to the poor is a diminu- 
 tion of our enjoyment. But would men allot 
 yearly a certain portion of what they possess 
 for the relief of the indigent and distressed, 
 and reserve that as a sacred and inviolable de- 
 posit put into their hands by the common 
 father of the rich and poor, intended for the 
 benefit of the latter ; then they would feel the 
 exercise of charity no hardship, the number 
 of miserable objects would speedily decrease, 
 and plenty, cheerfulness and joy, would be 
 widely diffused throughout society. 
 
 III. The third thing which I proposed, was, 
 to suggest some directions for the exercise of 
 this virtue. And, in my opinion, you will 
 not err, if your charity extends to proper ob- 
 jects, proceeds from piopcr viotives, and is 
 performed in a proper manner, 
 
 1. In general the most destitute are the 
 
 VOL. II. s 
 
130 SERMOiyJ VII. 
 
 most worthy objects of our charity. Misery^ 
 in whatever shape or in whatever character, 
 whether in our friends or in our foes, in the 
 good or in the bad, is the object of our com- 
 passion, and calls for our assistance. The 
 generous and wounded soldier who gave the 
 cup of water brought to quench his own 
 thirst, to another whose necessities appeared 
 greater, acted according to the true spirit of 
 charity. 
 
 It is an opinion both erroneous and danger- 
 ous, that hatred of vice should render us un-^ 
 compassionate to sinners, or that variance and 
 animosity should make us deaf to the cries of 
 our enemy in distress. There can be no 
 greater act of charity than to reclaim the 
 vicious ; there is not a more express precept 
 in the gospel than that we feed our enemy, 
 when he is hungry, and give him drink 
 when he is thirsty. It is thus that we are 
 treated by our heavenly father, whose fairest 
 and best-loved attribute it is to pity and for- 
 give, who maketh his sun to rise on the evil 
 and the good, and sendeth rain on the just 
 and on the unjust. This is the example set 
 us by our great Master who performed towards 
 Us, even when we were enemies and sinners. 
 
SERMON VII. 131 
 
 the greatest act of charity and mercy which 
 ever did or ever can happen in the universe. 
 It is impossible to particularize the different 
 objects which are worthy of your charity. 
 Look around you, and you will will see a 
 sufficient number of them. Among those 
 who request your assistance you will distm- 
 guish the industrious, who, after all their 
 efforts, are unable to supply their own and 
 their children's wants ; the aged and infirm 
 whose arm is now unstrung, and who, decli- 
 nmg into the winter of life, no longer display 
 the blossoms of spring or the fruit of autumn ; 
 the helpless orphan on whose tender years no 
 parent of their own ever smiled, whom no 
 protector defends from the early and infec- 
 tious blasts of vice, to whom no guardian and 
 instructor points out the path of duty. But 
 above all, you ought to distinguish those who, 
 after being accustomed to affluence and plen- 
 ty, are by some unforeseen accident, some 
 sudden reverse of fortune, without any fault 
 of their own, reduced to bear the galling 
 yoke of poverty ; who, after being the father 
 of the fatherless, the stay of the orphan, and 
 the shield of the stranger, now need that 
 charity which they were wont so liberally to 
 
im SERMON vri. 
 
 dispense, To them poverty must be the more 
 insupportable, because they are prevented by 
 modesty from making kown their v/ants and 
 disclosing their misery. To their assistance, 
 then, let the charitable and open hand be 
 stretched out. In their case, too, let charity 
 be performed with that secrecy and tenderness 
 which their delicate and susceptible disposi- 
 tions require. 
 
 2. While your charity is extended only to 
 proper objects, it ought also to proceed from 
 proper motives. On the principle from which 
 any action arises, depends its merit or demerit. 
 If we are charitable from motives of pride and 
 ostentation, that we may be seen of men, and 
 may gain the applause of the world, our char- 
 ity is but as a sounding brass or a tinkling 
 cymbol. The observations of our Lord on this 
 subject are highly pertinent and well deserve 
 our attention. To prevent the mixture of im- 
 proper motives in the exercise of charity, he 
 requires that it be done in secret. '* Take 
 *^ heed,*' says he, *' that ye do not your alms 
 *' before men, to be seen of them ; otherwise 
 '^ ye have no reward of your father which is in 
 '^ heaven. Therefore, when thou doest thine 
 •* alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee. 
 
SERMON VII. 13S 
 
 ** as the hypocrites do, in the synagogues and 
 '* in the streets, that they may have glory of 
 ** men. Verily, I say unto you, they have 
 ** their reward. But when thou doest alms, let 
 ** not thy right hand know what thy left hand 
 " doth : that thine alms may be in secret, and 
 ** thy father which seeth in secret himself 
 ** shall reward thee openly." 
 
 In like manner, think not by works of char- 
 ity to compound for other sins with which 
 you are unwilling to part. Some would be 
 glad to give a Httle of their goods for the relief 
 of the poor, provided it would screen them 
 from the punishment due to fraud, injustice, 
 and oppression, and were they allowed to 
 spend the rest in extravagant and unlawful 
 pleasures. In former times, indeed, religion 
 was of a nature so accommodating as to admit 
 pretensions of this kind. If any man, at the 
 close of a wicked and abandoned life, expend- 
 ed the money he had acquired by violence 
 and deceit, in building churches, in erectmg 
 monasteries, and in founding charitable insti- 
 tutions, all his former offences were blotted 
 out, and his saintship infallibly secured. But 
 we preach a very different religion. Not that 
 we are less anxious than our predecessors that 
 
134 SERMON VII. 
 
 you should practise works of charity ; but we 
 wish you to be just as well as charitable ; we 
 wish you to act from purer motives than hy- 
 pocrisy and a love of praise. If your wealth 
 has been acquired by extortion and rapine, by 
 grinding the face of the poor and oppressing 
 the stranger who is within thy gates, by over- 
 reaching the unv/ary, or withholding from 
 your creditor his due ; and you think that by 
 giving some little of it away in charity, you 
 may safely continue In the same course of 
 profitable Iniquity, cast it not into the treasury 
 of the Lord ; It Is the price of blood and of 
 sin, and cannot be received. 
 
 3. Let your charity be performed in 2i proper" 
 manner. This rule is of more consequence 
 than may at first be imagined. An action, 
 however good In itself. If performed in an im- 
 proper manner, loses half its merit. Many a 
 charitable deed is performed In so harsh and 
 insuhing a manner, or Is accompanied with 
 so liberal a proportion of reproach and invec» 
 tlve, that a refusal of the gift desired would 
 have been far less disagreeable. To grant a 
 request with a willing heart, to confer a favour 
 with delicacy and propriety, is one of the most 
 difficult offices which occur in the intercourse 
 
SERMON VII. 135 
 
 of society. Let your charity, then, be per- 
 formed in a kind and compassionate manner ; 
 and shew that you feel and are interested for 
 the person whom you reUeve. Give your 
 alms with gentleness and aifability, avoid- 
 ing all harshness of manner, and all unne- 
 cessary display of superiority. Be charita- 
 ble with a glad spirit ; give cheerfully and 
 without reluctance ; and let no appearance 
 of force and restraint detract from the merit of 
 your virtue, or cause your good to be evil 
 spoken of. 
 
 IV. I shall now conclude with stating a few 
 of the motives which should induce you to 
 follow after charity. 
 
 And iirst, let me observe, that the intrinsick 
 excellence and beauty of this virtue, are suffi- 
 cient to recommend it to all the lovers of what 
 is great and beautiful. How noble, how god- 
 like an employment, to supply the wants of 
 the necessitous, to raise up the bowed down, 
 to heal the wounds of the afflicted, and to 
 smooth the bed of sickness ! Such conduct 
 must be free from all selfish and interested 
 motives ; from the poor and wretched we can 
 expect no return. By such conduct we shew 
 ourselves to be the genuine children of our 
 
156 SERMON VII. 
 
 father in heaven, who is the helper of the 
 poor, the father of the fatherless, and the hus- 
 band of the widow, who giveth unto all liber- 
 ally and upbraideth none, who is constantly 
 conferring favours on those who profit him 
 nothing. By such conduct we shew ourselves 
 to be the true disciples of Jesus, whose life 
 was one continued course of charity and good- 
 ness to mankind. 
 
1S7 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 On Meekness : its nature and great excellence in 
 the sight oj God, 
 
 i^SALM 25, VeHSE 'i. 
 
 " The meek will he guide in judgment; and the meek will 
 he teach his way. 
 
 Religion, while it elevates the soul to God, 
 and teaches us to set our affections on things 
 above, neglects not the duties of civil life, or 
 those laws which regulate our connections 
 with one another. It not only prepares us 
 for a future life, by prescribing doctrines and 
 precepts for the cultivation of our moral and 
 religious powers ; but it also smooths our road 
 through the present stage of existence, and 
 sweetens the intercourse of society, by incul- 
 cating love, gentleness and meekness. The 
 wisdom which cometh from above is pure, 
 peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated : 
 full of mercy and of good fruits. 
 
 VOL. II. T 
 
133 SERMON VIII. 
 
 Among the virtues of the Christian life, that 
 of meekness, though accompanied with less 
 show than many others, does not hold a less 
 important place. It is a disposition of mind 
 highly amiable in itself; it is a distinguishing 
 mark of the disciples of Jesus ; it is extremely 
 favourable to the cultivation and improvement 
 of every other virtue ; and it is of high price 
 in the sight of God. '' The meek will he 
 ** guide in judgment ; and the meek will he 
 ** teach his way/' Let us attempt to describe 
 it, and to point out the blessedness with which 
 it is connected, 
 
 I. This virtue is not the effect of natural 
 disposition, nor is it a habit to be acquired in 
 the school of the world ; but it is a Christian 
 grace, and a fruit of the Spirit. There are 
 some who have in them much of the milk of 
 human kindness, and who consequently pos- 
 sess a softness of disposition which is productive 
 of an easy, gentle, and inoffensive behaviour. 
 But such men are yielding and submissive 
 more from want of spirit and firmness to with- 
 stand opposition, than from any fixed princi- 
 ple of conduct. There are others who have 
 much complaisance in their behaviour, and 
 much smoothness of phrase in their speech. 
 
SERMON VIIL 139 
 
 who yet have not ** the ornament of a meek 
 •' and quiet sphit." They have been much 
 conversant in the w^ays of men ; they have 
 acquired an artificial pohtencss v^hich enables 
 them to conceal every feeling of disgust and 
 dislike; and often, under the veil of gentle 
 appearances and the most obliging manners, 
 they conceal the bitterest malice and ill-will. 
 But the meekness which is taught in the school 
 of Jesus, is founded on a good temper, a steady 
 principle of virtue, a modest opinion of our- 
 selves, a sincere benevolence and good will to 
 our neighbour, and above all, a love of peace 
 and quietness. It is in no respect inconsistent 
 with firmness and vigour of mind ; it is yield- 
 ing and submissive in no one point of reli- 
 gious or moral importance ; it is more nearly 
 connected with a natural politeness, which 
 proceeds from the heart, than with an artificial 
 complaisance of ni'inners. 
 
 Meekness must also be distinguished from 
 gentleness, a virtue to which it bears a very 
 great resemblance, and with which it is often, 
 perhaps, unavoidably, confounded. We have 
 no way to judge of moral habits, but by the 
 effect which they produce ; and both meek- 
 ness and gentleness are productive of the same 
 
14^ SERMON VIII. 
 
 calm, mild, and equable behaviour. But, 
 properly speaking, gentleness is a qualifica- 
 tion of those actions which we do to others ; 
 meekness, of those actions which regard the 
 conduct of others towards us, or the events 
 which happen to us from without. Thus we 
 are said to give a reproof with gentleness or 
 tenderness, and to receive it with meekness. 
 
 Who, then, is the meek man ? What in- 
 fluence has this virtue on the character and 
 conduct? 
 
 In one respect, meekness does not differ 
 from humihty. The meek man is modest 
 and diffident in his opinion of himself. 
 He is sensible of the weakness and corrup- 
 tion of his nature, and of the greatness and 
 frequency of his own particular faults. In 
 his composition there is no arrogance nor 
 pride, no obstinacy nor self-conceit. He is 
 not haughty, distant, or reserved ; but is free 
 of access, and easy to be entreated. In his 
 manners he is unaffected ; in his behaviour 
 unassuming ; in his dispositions complying 
 and obliging. When he is blamed or spoken 
 evil of, he is more ready to confess his faults, 
 and to condemn himself, than to retaliate up- 
 on others. If any man differ in opinion from 
 
SERMON VIII. Ui 
 
 him, he is disposed rather to distrust his own 
 than to condemn the other's judgment. In 
 every case where his own opinions and in- 
 clinations are concerned, he will rather yield, 
 than, by disputation and opposition, produce 
 animosity and discord. I do not, however, 
 mean that he will yield in matters of duty 
 and of essential importance. This would be 
 a servile and sinful compliance, not the meek 
 and humble submission to which I allude ; 
 and it would indicate the greatest weakness 
 and corruption of mind. On these points the 
 meekest man will give place, no, not for a 
 moment. But in matters of indifter'^nce, 
 and in trifles, he is by no means anxious to 
 impose his opinion upon others. And it 
 must be remembered that the greatest part of 
 human life is nothing but a series of little and 
 unimportant events ; and that thesg are the 
 chief cause of those jarrings and dissentions 
 which disturb and embitter human society. 
 For it is an observation founded on experience 
 that men seldom quarrel about serious and 
 important matters. Their evil passions and 
 prejudices, their obstinacy and self-conceit, 
 are most apparent in things of no moment. 
 And unhappily this is the case particularly 
 
142S SERMON VIII. 
 
 in matters of religion. The less essential 
 any doctrine is, the more eagerly is it con- 
 tested ; the smaller the difference is between 
 parties and sects, their virulence against each 
 other becomes proportionably greater. 
 
 Farther, the meek man is actuated by good 
 will to others, judges of their actions with 
 charity, and views their characters in the 
 most favourable Hght. With him there is no 
 malice, nor envying, nor strife. This arises 
 from the former part of his character, viz. 
 the just opinion which he has of himself, for 
 it is by viewing our own character and con- 
 duct in too favourable a pomt of view, that 
 we are often led to think unfavourably of 
 others. He who loveth himself more than 
 he ought to do, will not love his brother also. 
 But the meek man wishes well to all man- 
 kind ; i:ejoiceth in the success of others ; 
 envyeth not their attainments ; is candid to 
 their merits ; unwilling to think evil of any 
 man ; always leans to the charitable side, 
 where an action admits of two Interpretations. 
 In short, the calmness and serenity of his own 
 lyiind is diffused over every thing around him. 
 To the jaundiced eye, every thing is of an 
 unnatural colour. All appears distorted and. 
 
SERMON Viri. us 
 
 deformed to a mind troubled with fierce and 
 angry passions. But the mind of the meek 
 man is Hke a clear and undisturbed lake, 
 which reflects every object in its true colours 
 and its just dimensions. 
 
 Again, the meek man bears with the faults 
 and weaknesses of others ; is slow to wrath ; 
 unwilHng to take offence ; and ready to for- 
 give the injuries which he receives. In these 
 respects, he is directly opposite to several 
 characters which are too common in the 
 world. The first are the severe and unre- 
 lenting who make no allowance for the un- 
 avoidable imperfections incident to human 
 nature ; to whom the follies of men are un- 
 pardonable crimes ; who yield not in one 
 minute article even to preserve the peace and 
 happiness of society. But the meek careful- 
 ly observe those injunctions which abound in 
 the New Testament, to bear one another's 
 burdens, and to suffer with the infirmities of 
 the weak. They copy the example of Jesus, 
 who pleased not himself, but on whom fell 
 the reproaches of those who reproached others. 
 The God of patience and of consolation, who 
 knoweth our frame, and remembereth that 
 we are dust, commandeth them to be like- 
 minded one towards another. 
 
144 SERMON VIII, 
 
 The next class of men from whom tli6 
 meek essentially differ, are the passionate ; 
 who are full of wrath and anger, whose pas- 
 sions are so furious that the smallest spark is 
 sufficient to set them in a blaze, who take 
 offence at every disrespectful word or gesture, 
 who resent every real or imagined injury. 
 But meekness suffereth long, beareth all 
 things, is not easily provoked. The meek 
 man is greater than the mighty, for he hath 
 rule over his own spirit. No fierce or unruly 
 passion is allowed to disturb his repose ; no 
 darkness obscures the sunshine of his mind« 
 He knoweth the real value of the honours 
 and advantages of the world, and passes by 
 those little neglects, affronts and injuries, 
 which create so many heart-burnings and 
 animosities among men. He is careful to ob- 
 serve the direction of the Apostle; 'Met all 
 " bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and cla- 
 *« mour, be put away from you. And be ye 
 '' kind to one another, tender hearted, for- 
 *' giving one another.'' The last thing op- 
 posed to meekness in the view in which we 
 are considering it, is that peevishness and 
 fretfulness of temper which begets ill-humours 
 and discontent, and convert every event and 
 
SERMON VIII. 145' 
 
 action into food for its own disorder. Such 
 men continually wear a face of gloom and 
 uneasiness ; they are discontented and dis- 
 pleased with every thing around them. But 
 the meek man is ever pleased, cheerful, and 
 easy. He is at peace with himself, and con- 
 sequently under no temptation not to be at 
 peace with others. If, at any time, serious 
 provocation has led him into anger, the sun 
 goeth not down upon his wrath. It is a guest 
 that tarrieth but a little. He never allows it 
 to settle into resentment, malice or revenge. 
 His behaviour is ever gentle, placid, and 
 equal. He meets the calamities and disap- 
 pointments of life with humble submission and 
 pious resignation. In every situation he pos- 
 sesseth his soul in patience. Though the 
 storm howls without, all is calm and serene 
 within. His spirits are never ruffled by mis- 
 fortune, his mind is never unhinged by dis- 
 appointment, and good humour and content- 
 ment are the constant inhabitants of his dwel- 
 ling. 
 
 Lastly, the great feature in the character of 
 the meek man, is his love of peace and quiet- 
 ness. He is not fond of high and elevated 
 stations, of the shew and bustle of life. His 
 
 VOL. II. u 
 
146 SERMON VIIL 
 
 delight is in ease and retirement. He know- 
 eth that the thunder more often attacks the 
 lotty building and the high tower than the 
 lowly cottage. He sees the mountain assail- 
 ed by the blast while not a breath is stirring 
 in the vale, and the oak bending under the 
 storm while nothing disturbs the ivy which 
 creeps upon the wall. But if his situation 
 lead him to mingle in the world, as far as in 
 him lieth, he liveth peaceably with all men. 
 He seeketh for peace as for hidden treasure, 
 and often parts with his rights, and sacrifices 
 his interest to maintain it. He provoketh not 
 others to anger, nor administers fuel to their 
 passions, but by a soft answer turneth away 
 wrath. *' Pleasant are his words," to use the 
 language of Solomon, '* they are as honey- 
 *' comb, sweet to the soul, and marrow to the 
 '* bones.'* Not only does he live peaceably 
 with others himself, but he also endeavours 
 to make all men live at peace with one an- 
 other. He tries to allay the heats, animosities 
 and discords, which must take place in the 
 intercourse of mankind, where the passions 
 and mterests of men interfere so much, and 
 so directly oppose one another. He piicifies 
 the resentment of the angry, sooths the 
 
SERMON VIll. 147 
 
 irascible, brings the peevish into good hu- 
 mour, rejoices to make one blessed family of 
 mankind, to behold all men uniting in love 
 to God and love to man. 
 
 Upon the whole, the virtue which has been 
 dehneated, and which it was found impossi- 
 ble to keep entirely distinct from several other 
 virtues, humility, patience, contentment, is 
 that which is recommended by the Apostle 
 Paul in these words, '* Put on (as the elect 
 '* of God, holy and beloved,) bowels of mer- 
 *' cies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meek- 
 '* ness, long-suffering, forbeaiing one another, 
 " and forgiving one another.'* 
 
 But the best description of meekness is to 
 be met with in the history of the life and 
 character of Jesus. There we find meekness 
 to be not a virtue of which only an idea can 
 be formed, without the possibility of its be- 
 ing practised ; but we see it actually embodi- 
 ed and in human form dwelling among men. 
 Meek and lowly in heart was the son of God ; 
 he was humble in his deportment ; every 
 action of his life was full of condescension, 
 gentleness and love. The Legislator of the 
 Jews was called the meekest man on earth, 
 but a meeker than Moses is here. Isaiah 
 
148 SERMON VIIL 
 
 saw him in prophetic vision, and thus de- 
 scribed him : *' He shall not strive, nor cry, 
 ** neither shall any man hear his voice in the 
 *' streets. A bruised reed shall he not break, 
 *' and smoking flax shall he not quench. 
 '* When hev\^as reviled, he reviled not again, 
 *' When he suffered, he threatened not.'' To 
 the errours of his friends, he v^as mild and 
 gentle ; he v^as patient under, and ready to 
 forgive the injuries, reproaches, and insults 
 of his enemies. When the impetuous zeal of 
 his disciples led them to beg that he would 
 command fire to descend from heaven, and 
 consume a people who believed not on his 
 name, with what meekness did he reprove 
 their fault, and correct their mistake ? " Ye 
 '' know not v.'hat manner of spirit ye are of; 
 ^* the son of man came not to destroy men's 
 ^' lives, but to save them/' Though he came 
 to his own, and his own received him not, 
 he was not angry and exasperated at their 
 rejection of him, but when he drew near un- 
 to Jerusalem, he beheld the city and wept 
 over it. When Jesus left the celestial man- 
 sions to become a man of sorrows and ac- 
 quainted with grief, meekness descended 
 along with him from heaven, and accom- 
 
SERMON VIII. 149 
 
 panied him during the whole of his abode 
 upon earth. Amidst the hardships of his 
 humble station, and notwithstanding the ob- 
 loquy, the neglect, and the ill usage which 
 he met with, she was his constant attendant. 
 She breathed in his words, she shone forth in 
 his looks. When, towards the close of his 
 life, his friends forsook him and fled, when 
 malice was directing all her shafts against him, 
 when cruelty assailed him in the most terri- 
 ble forms, when justice refused to listen to 
 his cry, when pity seemed to have almost 
 entirely fled from the society of men, even 
 then meekness did not desert him, but dicta- 
 ted his last words, which were a prayer for 
 his enemies, '* Father forgive them, for they 
 ^* know not what they do." 
 
 Not only was meekness a distinguishing 
 feature in the character of our Master; it is 
 also the spirit which every part of his religion 
 breathes. Before his appearance, the very 
 reverse of this virtue was evident both in the 
 general state of society and in the characters 
 of individuals. It was the age of war and 
 conquest. The arts of civil and domestick 
 life were unknown and uncultivated, and 
 rapine, bloodshed and cruelty, prevailed over 
 
150 SERMON VIII. 
 
 the face of the earth. In private life, too, 
 however much they might cuUivate patriotism, 
 courage, and other shining quahfications, the 
 peaceful virtue of meekness escaped their 
 notice. Both Jews and Gentiles were re- 
 markable for a pride and haughtiness of char- 
 acter very inconsistent with the weak and de- 
 pendent state of human nature. They had 
 some love for their friends, but it went no 
 farther. They knew not what it was to for- 
 bear taking offence, or to forgive injuries. 
 The dagger of assassination was daily drawn 
 in revenge of wrongs. Man became the ene- 
 my of man, and those who should have lived 
 together as brethren, took pleasure only in 
 promoting discord and disorder, or, like savage 
 beasts, in devouring one another. But this 
 is not so much a matter of surprise, when 
 they neglected the true foundation of peace 
 and harmony ; when even their moralists and 
 philosophers represented meekness, gentleness 
 and humility, as nearly allied to weakness of 
 mind, and meanness of spirit, and as incon- 
 sistent with a great and noble character. But 
 what were the precepts of Jesus and his 
 Apostles ? *' Blessed are the meek," said he, 
 *' Jor they shall inherit the earth.'* When his 
 
SERMON VIII. 151 
 
 disciples were disputing about precedence and 
 power, Jesus called a little child and set him 
 in the midst of them, and said unto them, 
 *' except ye become as little children, ye shall 
 ^' not enter into the kingdom of heaven." In 
 truth, to love one another, to live at peace 
 with all men, to bear the infirmities of the 
 weak, to forgive the wrongs of the injurious, 
 to be slow to wrath, to cultivate meekness, 
 gentleness and kindness, are the constant 
 precepts of that charitable religion, which 
 was proclaimed by the Saviour of men, and 
 which proceeded from the God of peace ; 
 that religion whose benign influences have 
 dispelled the ignorance and barbarity of the 
 nations, enlightened and civilized the human 
 mind, softened and refined the manners of 
 society, restrained the ravages and the cruelty 
 of war, mitigated the severity of punishments, 
 and taught all men to consider themselves as 
 the children of one universal parent, who is 
 ** good unto all, and whose tender mercies 
 " are over all his works/' 
 
 Besides, how much reason have we to re- 
 joice in the happiness of our lot, when we 
 compare Christianity with another pretended 
 revelation from God, which has gained over 
 
152 SERMON VIII. 
 
 to its side a great part of the human race ! 
 What joy and exultation should fill our minds 
 when we contemplate the character and life 
 of Jesus, and then consider the character of 
 the ferocious prophet of the east ; when we 
 behold our Saviour meek and lowly in heart, 
 condescending and inoffensive to all men, and 
 after that, turn our eyes to Mahomet dyed in 
 blood, riding in triumph over thousands of 
 slain, and dragging the proselytes of his re- 
 ligion at the wheels of his chariot ; what de- 
 lightful joy should we not feel when we 
 compare the gospel which proclaims peace on 
 earth, and good will towards men, with that 
 religion which carries war and desolation in 
 its train, and every step of which has been 
 marked with cruelty and rapine. 
 
 This virtue, then, though confined chiefly 
 to the calm sequestered vale of life, or to the 
 scenes of private and domestick retirement, 
 cannot be unimportant when it runs through 
 every part of our holy religion, when it is so 
 often, and so eagerly recommended by it, and 
 when it has so great an influence on the hap- 
 piness of mankind. It is not calculated to 
 gain the applause of men, but it is of high 
 price in the sight of God, To do acts of pub- 
 
SERMON VIII. 153 
 
 lick and extensive utility, to save a falling or 
 raise a sinking state, to scatter plenty o'er a 
 land, is the lot of only a few men in an age or 
 nation. Years may pass over our heads, be- 
 fore we have an opportunity of practising any 
 great and shining virtue, of visiting with com- 
 fort in our hands the widow and fatherless in 
 their affliction, of smoothing the bed of death, 
 or of pouring the oil and wine of consolation 
 into the wounded spirit : but every man has it 
 in his power to diffuse peace and joy around 
 him by the meekness and gentleness of his 
 behaviour. There is not a day nor hour of 
 our life wherein we may not add to the hap- 
 piness of the world, by cultivating a meek 
 and quiet spirit. And how blessed would be 
 the state of society, were this virtue univer- 
 sally practised ! ** How good and how pleas- 
 '* ant is it for brethren to dwell together in 
 *' unity ! It is as the dew of Hermon, and as 
 ** the dew that descended on the mountains 
 *'ofZion.'' Indeed we can form no greater 
 idea of the happiness of the higher mansions, 
 where every thing, like the calm and un- 
 troubled ocean, reflects the serenity of God's 
 countenance ; where the dissensions, and an- 
 gers, and quarrels, and storms which render 
 
 VOL. II. X 
 
154 SERMON VIII. 
 
 the sea of life so tempestuous, are all blown 
 over ; and where the reign of universal peace 
 and harmony is begun, and shall never be 
 terminated. 
 
 II. But the mere description of this virtue 
 will not be sufficient to induce you to practise 
 it. Is the meek man without his reward ? 
 Doth he serve God for nought f No, my friends, 
 he doth not serve God for nought. Great is 
 the reward of meekness considered with re- 
 spect to the pdssessour himself, with respect to 
 the world around him, and with respect to 
 God whose approbation he seeks. 
 
 I . Great is the blessedness of meekness con- 
 sidered with respect to the possessour of that 
 virtue. Of every virtue it has been justly ob- 
 served that it is its own reward : for each is 
 accompanied with that self-approbation, that 
 peace and satisfaction of mind which, next to 
 the enjoyment of God, is the greatest felicity 
 aiCainable by human beings. But meekness 
 is calculated not only from the reward of self- 
 approl)ation which accompanies it, but also 
 from its very nature to produce this effect. 
 For in what does that internal enjoyment 
 wluc h is so great an ingredient in human hap- 
 piness consist, but in the proper regulation of 
 
SERMON VIII. 155 
 
 our passions, appetites, and affections ; in that 
 calm, serene, and meek temper of mind which 
 has been described in the former part of the 
 discourse? Ihe conduct of others, however 
 unjust or injurious, and the events of life, how- 
 ever calamitous and adverse, cannot affect the 
 repose of him who possesses a meek and quiet 
 spirit. He has a source of happiness and en- 
 joyment in the temper and constitution of his 
 own mind, of which he can no more be de- 
 prived than of his existence. The reproaches 
 and censures of others cannot hurt the man 
 who has a modest and humble opinion of his 
 own character. Envy cannot torment the 
 breast of him who views the success and hap- 
 piness of others with complacency and de- 
 light. Injury and insult meet with no cor- 
 responding passions in a mind regulated by 
 meekness, and taught to suffer with patience 
 and composure the wrongs of the oppressor. 
 Those evils which happen alike to all men, 
 are soothed and mitigated by a soft and gentle 
 and complying temper. To bear adversity 
 with becoming dignity, a bold and courageous 
 spirit are altogether insufficient : patience and 
 submission are the only remedies. The blast 
 shatters the tree which endeavours to resist its 
 
156 SERMON VIII. 
 
 power, but passes over without injuring the 
 shrub whieh yields to its force. What then 
 can disturb the meek man ? No evil can reach 
 him from without, and within all is peace and 
 happiness. 
 
 If meekness have such an influence on our 
 happiness in the day of adversity, how much 
 more does it gild the sunshine of prosperity. 
 He who has been depressed beyond measure 
 in adversity, will be intemperate in the day of 
 success. He only who has borne with patience 
 and calmness, misfortune and disappointment, 
 can display that moderation and temperance 
 in prosperity which are necessary to the proper 
 enjoyment of life. Tumultuous and excessive 
 joys are unknown to the meek man ; his mind 
 moves in that calm and equal tenour which 
 gives a true relish to life. The sunshine seems 
 brighter when it follows or precedes a storm ; 
 but meekness resembles that clear and serene 
 sky which is a stranger to storms and tempests. 
 
 To cultivate meekness, then, is to cultivate 
 quietness, peace, and happiness. He who has 
 attained this virtue, is in possession of a treasure 
 superiour to the riches of the earth, which the 
 world has not given, and which it cannot take 
 away. It is our interest, therefore, to studv 
 
SERMON VIII. 157 
 
 meekness for its own sake, and in considera- 
 tion of that internal peace which it brings in 
 its train. But the motives to the practice of 
 this virtue, will be much stronger if we con- 
 sider it with regard to others. 
 
 II. Great is the reward of meekness as re* 
 gards the world. Nothing counteracts the 
 malevolence and discordant principles of socie- 
 ty more than the tender spirit which keeps 
 aloof from dissension and contest. The pas- 
 sions of men are in the moral world what the 
 raging tempest is in the natural — command 
 the elements and you make peace — command 
 the passions and discord ceases to rave. The 
 angry, when they meet with gentle words and 
 mild demeanour, are disarmed of their fero- 
 city, the opposition that elicits their fiery par- 
 ticles is removed and they depart harmless 
 and without riot. 
 
 The meek man, like the skilful artist, 
 touches the rudest machinery with the finest 
 instrument, and causes it to obey his wish. 
 He combats not by strength but by gentleness; 
 he opposes not with violence, but he conquers 
 by moderation ; he disarms the terrible of 
 their weapons, as if by enchantment, and their 
 instruments of death fall harmless at his feel. 
 
158 SERMON VIII. 
 
 '^ Blessed are the meek for they shall in« 
 '^ herit the earth,'* saith our Lord; and, my 
 brethren, the meek do inherit all that is valu- 
 able upon earth — they inherit peace and un- 
 ruffled happiness. They inherit moreover 
 the friendship of all the good, which is more 
 precious than the goods that perish. Nor is 
 this all. The meek inherit the blessings of 
 all men ; for they are faithful and just friends, 
 are enemies to none, encroach not upon the 
 possessions of the rich, and are the constant 
 friends and advisers of the poor. The jusi love 
 them, the unjust respect them, and their greet- 
 ings are universal, cordial and harmonious. 
 Does a strife arise among their neighbours, 
 their character of uprightness and holiness 
 causes them to be appealed to as umpires in 
 the dispute. With their judgment all are sat- 
 isfied because all believe it to be founded upon 
 justice and morality. 
 
 Free from the common enemies of man, the 
 angry passions, revenge, envy, hatred, pride 
 and ambition, the meek do also obtain and 
 secure the goods of the world by seeking them 
 in moderation, and by using them with pru- 
 dence. How often does the passionate man 
 mar his prospects by giving himself up to the 
 
SERMON VIII. 159 
 
 empire of his appetites ! How often does he 
 lose his acquired riches and honours by grasp- 
 ing with an avaricious and arrogant hand at 
 unlawful possessions. But the meek are gov- 
 erned by a more happy spirit. They seek 
 the blessings of this life with a temperate zeal, 
 and surrounded by friends and assistants their 
 etibrts are never unavailing; not over-anxious 
 to gather all into themselves, they interfere 
 not with the concerns of others. They engage 
 not in vain contention, nor do they raise up 
 enemies to thwart them in their honest en- 
 deavours to obtain a competency for their fam- 
 ilies. TVor does any vanity, or pride, or ambi- 
 tion induce them to engage in schemes of 
 aggrandizement so as to expose to peril the 
 earnings of their earlier days. Humble and 
 content in Jesus, full of gratitude to God, they 
 use their gifts as not abusing them, and satis- 
 fied with their lot, they give praises to heave n 
 for all they possess. Thus, my brethren, is it 
 that the meek inherit the earth. 
 
 III. Fmally, great is the reward of the 
 meek man with respect to God ; meekness in- 
 cludes the very essence of humility, is the 
 groundwork of charity, and is mseparable 
 from holiness. How much then must this 
 
160 SERMON Viri. 
 
 virtue be estimated in the eyes of God ! The 
 humble shall be exalted ; the charitable shall 
 be paid many fold in heaven for what they 
 dispense on earth ; and the holy are those 
 who alone shall see God. It becomes us then 
 to cultivate this character as we regard the 
 salvation of our immortal spirits, and we shall 
 not cultivate it in vain. By assimilating our- 
 selves to Jesus, our perfect model, we shall 
 approach the true perfection of the godhead, 
 and shall advance the holy work of heaven 
 here upon earth. Jesus was humble and 
 meek ; God loveth the image of his son and 
 will not destroy it. He delighteth in the low- 
 ly mind and regardeth it as his representative 
 here on earth, for it advanceth his glory and 
 the happiness of his creatures. What honour 
 so great, my brethren, as to do God's will on 
 earth ; to act the part of his faithful servant, 
 and to feel that his spirit shed abroad in our 
 souls assures us of his approbation ! All the 
 pomp and glory of this world sink into nothing 
 when contrasted with such transcendant hon- 
 ours. The approbation and countenance of 
 God ! What a sublime and immortal feeling 
 does the thought excite in the breast of the 
 Christian ! He pants for it ; he reaches on to- 
 
SERMON VIII. 161 
 
 wards It ; he glories in dying for it. Omnip- 
 otent and eternal in the heavens, the Father 
 commands us to yield a ready obedience to 
 his will. Shall we not obey him who made 
 this vast universe, and called all creatures into 
 existence out of nothing. The stubborn pride 
 of sin, however, makes man forget his duty 
 to his Maker. It is the Christian virtue of 
 meekness which can truly estimate the weak- 
 ness of man and the glory of the King of kings. 
 Humble in the flesh, the spirit of the meek 
 man raises itself with awful reverence to the 
 heavenly throne, and says *' thy will be done 
 ^' on earth as it is in heaven :" the radiance 
 of the God-head illumines his soul, and full 
 of holy aspirations he seeks not but to do the 
 wish of him who ruleth all things. 
 
 The meek and humble spirit is cherished by 
 God on earth, and it shall be advanced to great 
 glory in the heavens. The proud, the dis- 
 dainful, and the vindictive, God rejecteth, for 
 they disturb the harmony of his creation : the 
 contrite he dellghteth to honour. When the 
 hour of the world's death shall come the glories 
 of this life shall be wrapped in gloomy nigbt, 
 but the humblest Christian virtue shall be fixed 
 in eternal happiness in the heavens. My 
 
 VOL. II. Y 
 
16^ SERMON VOL 
 
 brethren, let us pray to God to give us meek 
 and lowly spirits, the dispositions of humility, 
 that we may render ourselves worthy to join in 
 the praises of the Lamb. 
 
163 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 On the character of the saints : the providence 
 and favour of God peculiarly exercised to- 
 wards them in the hour of death. 
 
 Psalm 116, Verse 15. 
 " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." 
 
 There is no truth in religion of more impor- 
 tance to the direction or consolation of man, 
 than that of a divine and particular providence 
 in human affairs. What influence ought it 
 not to have on the actions of our lives to know 
 that there is an invisible Spectator who is con- 
 stantly about our path and about our bed, and 
 who spieth out all our ways ; that there is a 
 supreme Governour and Judge who marks with 
 the minutest exactness, and with approbation 
 or abhorrence, every thought, word, and ac- 
 tion of our life ! How consoling to reflect, 
 that weak, ignomnt, and helpless as we are. 
 
164 SERMON IX. 
 
 still we are not left in this world of vicissitude 
 and trouble, to our own guidance, to the di- 
 rection of a blind fate, or to the sport of acci- 
 dent, but are under the perpetual guardian- 
 ship, protection, and direction of a wise and 
 benevolent being who watches over us in the 
 natal and in the mortal hour ; who takes an in- 
 terest in all our concerns, who appoints to us 
 our various fortunes and conditions, who re- 
 joiceth in our happiness, who lends an ear to 
 our complaints, and who, having the hearts 
 of all men and the powers of universal nature 
 subject to his control, causeth all things to 
 work together for good to them who love God, 
 and are the called according to his purpose. 
 *' The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice, let 
 *^ the multitude of the isles be glad thereof/' 
 But the doctrine of a superintending provi- 
 dence, though important and useful to all, is 
 peculiarly interesting and comfortable to good 
 men, whose persons are justified and accepted 
 in the beloved, whose lives being in conform- 
 ity to the law of God, are the object of his pe- 
 culiar approbation, whom he guards as the 
 apple of his eye, whom he guides with his 
 counsel, and forsakes not even when the king 
 of terrours approaches. For *^ precious in the- 
 
SERMON IX. 165 
 
 '* sight of the Lord is the death of his saints/' 
 I hope it will contribute to our edification 
 and improvement if, at this time, I briefly 
 consider the two points to which the text prin- 
 cipally directs our attention. I mean, 
 
 1. The character of those whose death is 
 precious in the sight of the Lord, and 
 
 2. In what respects the death of the saints 
 is precious in God's sight. 
 
 I. The first thing proposed is to make some 
 remarks on the character of those whose death 
 is precious in the sight of the Lord — they are 
 the saints, which literally signifies holy persons. 
 This is a designation frequently given to the 
 people of God, as expressive of their true char- 
 acter ; for not only are they considered as 
 righteous, in consequence of the interest which 
 by faith they have in the righteousness of the 
 Redeemer, but they have a principle of holi- 
 ness inherent in them, by virtue of their regen- 
 eration, and they also abound in the outward 
 fruits of holiness, to the praise and glory of 
 God. This is a condition absolutely requisite 
 to their enjoying the divine favour and regard, 
 so that their life may be the object of God's 
 care, or their death precious in his sight. The 
 Lord, who is himself glorious in holiness and 
 
166: SERMON IX. 
 
 the inexhaustible source of perfection, can 
 have no dehght in the ungodly and impure. 
 Hence an irreversible decree hath passed in 
 heaven, that ** without holiness no man shall 
 ** see the Lord,*' and as the flame consumeth 
 the stubble, so will the fire of his holiness burn 
 up the ungodly, who with fallen spirits shall 
 have their portion in that lake of torments 
 whose smoke ascendeth for ever and ever. 
 But the Lord saithof his own people, '* Thou 
 ** art a holy people unto the Lord thy God. 
 ^' The Lord thy God hath chosen thee to be 
 '* a special people to himself, above all people 
 ^* that are on the face of the earth. And they 
 " shall call them the holy people, the re- 
 ^< deemed of the Lord.'* 
 
 The holiness of the people of God is not 
 original and natural, but derived. By nature 
 they are like unto others, children of wrath 
 and of disobedience ; the thoughts of their 
 hearts are only evil continually, and the actions 
 of their lives are contaminated by imperfection 
 and guilt. But infinite wisdom and goodness 
 have devised means sufficiently efficacious to 
 renew and sanctify the most impure. '' Come 
 "' now and let us reason together,*' saith the 
 Lord ; '' though your sins be as scarlet, they 
 
SERMON IX. 167 
 
 *^ shall be white as snow, though they be red 
 '* like crimson, they shall be as wool." And 
 this change consists of two parts, a purification 
 from sin, and a communication of holiness ; a 
 removal of bad, and an acquisition of good 
 dispositions. 
 
 Sin i« the great cause which excludes the 
 creatures of the Almighty from the favour of 
 their Creator, and draws upon them innumera- 
 ble evils. It renders the life of the sinner 
 miserable and his death awful. Before men 
 can either enjoy the favour of God on earth, 
 or be fitted for the immediate vision of his 
 glory hereafter, their souls must be purified by 
 the washing of regeneration, and renewing of 
 the Holy Ghost. They must be cleansed by 
 the blood and spirit of the Saviour. Hence 
 David was wont to pray, *' wash me thorough- 
 *' ly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from 
 *' my sin ; create in me a clean heart, OGod, 
 '* and renew a right spirit within me." When 
 John was favoured with a vision of the re- 
 deemed, who stood before the throne and be- 
 fore the Lamb, he beheld them arrayed in 
 white robes, with palms in their hands, and 
 was informed that they were washed and made 
 white in the blood of the Lamb, All, there- 
 
168 SERMON IX. 
 
 fore, who sincerely hope for immortal life, will 
 purify themselves, even as God is pure. 
 
 But not only are the saints purified from the 
 defilement of sin and vice : in their souls are 
 implanted holy principles, and that assemblage 
 of Christian graces, which constitutes their 
 likeness to their heavenly father. They are 
 not only accounted of the family of God by 
 adoption, but they are indeed his children, 
 being formed after his image, rendered parta- 
 kers of the divine nature, and dwelling in God 
 and God in them. 
 
 A holy life, proceeding from a renewed and 
 sanctified heart, completes the character of the 
 saint. Like so many rays of light converging 
 to one point, justice, mercy, truth, love, joy, 
 peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, 
 faith, meekness, and temperance, harmonious- 
 ly unite in the saint, and emit their blended 
 radiance in his life and conversation ; so that 
 others, seeing his good works, glorify their 
 father who is in heaven. The love of God, 
 which glows in his heart, powerfully con- 
 strains him to a sincere, cheerful and uniform 
 obedience. It was the Almighty command 
 to Abraham '' walk before me, and be thou 
 ^' perfect," and it is the fixed determination of 
 
SERMON IX. 169 
 
 every true saint, to walk before the Lord unto 
 all well pleasing : to walk as in his presence 
 and under his omniscient eye ; and that not 
 on a few particular occasions, and at stated 
 times only, but regularly and uniformly 
 through the whole course of his life. Thus 
 the inward graces and virtues of the holy not 
 only beautify and adorn the soul, but serve to 
 produce obedience in those whom the Lord 
 hath set apart for himself, and redeemed to be 
 a peculiar people, zealous of good works. In 
 this manner their saintship is visible to the 
 world, and holiness to the Lord is established 
 in their character. This holiness is not found- 
 ed on constraint, nor does it depend on the 
 feeble efforts of an apostate heart, but is pro- 
 duced and maintained by the influences of an 
 Almighty Redeemer, in whose sight their 
 death as well as their life is precious. 
 
 II. Let us with equal brevity and simplicity 
 consider in what respects the death of the 
 saints is precious in the sight of the Lord. 
 
 It was sin which brought death into the 
 world; and though, eventually, a blessing to 
 the saints, it is a formidable foe, from which 
 human nature shrinks back with aversion. 
 The psalm, in which the text is found, cele- 
 
 VOL. II. z 
 
170 SERMON IX. 
 
 brates the goodness of God in delivering from 
 death, and contains a prayer that the hfe 
 which he had so graciously preserved might 
 for the future be spent in his service. This 
 remarkable preservation of the psalmist's life, 
 was the reason of the observation in the text, 
 that precious in the sight of the Lord is the 
 death of his saints. 
 
 Their death is precious in his sight, because 
 he is pleased often to bless them with length 
 of days, and to bring them to the grave in a 
 good old age, as a shock of corn comes in his 
 season. The sons of violence and strife fre- 
 quently rise up against the saints of God. But 
 their life and all that is dear to them are depos- 
 ited in his hands as a sacred trust : he forsaketh 
 them not in any case ; and in his sight their 
 life as well as their death is precious. He re- 
 deems their souls from deceit and death, and 
 brings them not to the grave till death becomes 
 to them great gain. 
 
 Long life is in a peculiar manner promised 
 to the saints. They shall inherit the earth, 
 while the wicked who are in great power, and 
 spread themselves like a green bay tree, shall 
 be cut doAu like ihe grass, and pass away. 
 '* The Lord knoweth the days of the upright ; 
 
SERMON IX. 171 
 
 " they shall dwell in the land, and the perfect 
 *' shall remain in it: but the wicked shall be 
 ^* cut off from the earth, and the transgressors 
 ** shall be rooted out of it/* 
 
 The death of the saints is precious in the 
 sight of the Lord, because by it he oftentimes 
 removes them from the evil to come. ** The 
 '' righteous perisheth," saith the prophet, 
 " and no man layeth it to heart ; and merciful 
 *' men are taken away, none considering that 
 *' the righteous are taken away from the evil 
 ^' to come.'* The saints are the pillars of the 
 world, and their death portends evil to the 
 place and nation in which they have lived. 
 Ruin came upon Sodom, because there were 
 not ten righteous men to be found in it. The 
 earth itself is preserved for the sake of good 
 men ; and when the Lord cometh out of his 
 place to punish the inhabitants of the world 
 for their iniquity, the saints are removed by 
 death to a place of security, that they may not 
 be the sad spectators of such direful calamities. 
 Again, precious in the eyes of the Lord is 
 the death of his saints, because he deprives 
 death of its sting, and encourages them in the 
 moment of their departure to commit their 
 spirits to his care, and to rely v/ith confidence 
 
\n SERMON IX. 
 
 on his ability to save to the uttermost all those 
 who sincerely believe in his mediation. The 
 righteous are indeed at all times God's peculiar 
 care ; but on a bed of agony, and in the hour 
 of death, his almighty arm is stretched out in 
 a particular manner for their support. With 
 that voice which called all nature into exist- 
 ence, he bids them not fear, for he is with 
 them : even he who has the keys of death 
 and of the unseen world in his hands, who 
 himself encountered the king of terrours, and 
 who knows what support his creatures need in 
 their dying moments. It was on this ac- 
 count that David sung with triumphant joy, 
 '' Though I walk through the valley of the 
 ** shadow of death, yet will I fear no evil ; 
 ** for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff 
 *' they comfort me." 
 
 It is impossible that the idea of death in it- 
 self should not affect, more or less, even those 
 who are best prepared for its approach. It 
 cannot be dressed out in any form that will 
 reconcile the reflecting mind to pass it by 
 without sensations of solemnity and awe. The 
 anxious care, the hopeless dejection, the burst- 
 ing grief of near and dear connexions, from 
 whom it is painful to part, and wdiose efforl^ 
 
SERMON IX. 17 3 
 
 cannot prevent the approach of the inevitable 
 hour, are circumstances of additional distress, 
 sufficient to appal the stoutest heart. 
 
 In these gloomy and distressing moments, 
 the samt reflects and experiences that his death 
 is precious in the sight of the Lord. This 
 gracious promise, replete with every comfort, 
 fortifies him against desponding fears, and 
 brightens his soul with the beaming rays of 
 hope, when this world darkens on his view. 
 Sympathizing angels hover round his departing 
 spirit, ready to conduct it to the realms of 
 glory. That benevolent Saviour, who himself 
 trod the thorny paths of life, and who hath 
 taken from death the dreaded sting, is at the 
 hour of dissolution more particularly present, 
 to strengthen every grace, to fortify the mind 
 against the terrours of the powers of darkness, 
 and to bring comfort to the bed of sickness 
 when the body is fast wasting away. Believing 
 and rejoicing in him who is their salvation 
 and their glory, and blessed with a foretaste 
 of the joys to come, the saints depart in peace ; 
 willing to be absent from the body, and pre- 
 sent with the Lord. To them the passage 
 through the dark vale loses all its terrours ; 
 and the tremendous gates of death are the 
 
174 SERMON IX. 
 
 portals which lead to those pleasures at God's 
 right hand, where, according to the Apostle/s 
 emphatick expression, they shall be *^ tilled 
 ** with all the fulness of God/* 
 
 The death of the saints is precious in the 
 sight of the Lord, because by it he brings 
 them to everlasting life. In all men there is 
 a presage and earnest desire of immortality ; 
 and the belief of a future existence is insepara- 
 bly connected with our idea of an all-power- 
 ful, wise, and just God. The darkness that 
 rested on this prospect, notwithstanding th^ 
 general prevalence of the doctrine, is now re- 
 moved by the gospel of Christ. He hath 
 brought life and immortality to light, dispel- 
 led those clouds that rested on the grave, and 
 pointed out a state of endless existence beyond 
 that dark region. This is one of the great 
 advantages of the Christian institution, that, it 
 gives the clear promise and sure hope of eter- 
 nal life. It represents death as a departure 
 hence, in order to bring us to our exalted Re- 
 deemer, who lives and reigns for ever, and by 
 whom the saints shall be presented faultless 
 before the presence of the divine glory with 
 exceeding joy. 
 
 Weare to consider the everlasting rest which 
 
SERMON IX. 175 
 
 remainelh for the people of God, as the fruit 
 of the Saviour's merits and sufferings, as one 
 of the greatest and noblest effects of his ascen- 
 sion into heaven, and of his powerful media- 
 tion for us at the right hand of God. The 
 felicity of heaven is indeed the gift of God ; 
 but that gift is secured and acquired for us 
 through Jesus Christ, our Lord. '' I give 
 '* unto my sheep eternal life," saith he, ** and 
 " they shall never perish, neither shall any 
 *' one pluck them out of my hand." 
 
 This eternal life imports more than we can 
 express or comprehend ; something more ex- 
 cellent than eye hath seen, or ear heard, or 
 heart can conceive. Crowns, sceptres and 
 triumphs, every kind of worldly success and 
 prosperity, are but faint resemblances of this 
 eternal, unspeakable, inconceivable happiness. 
 No pain, nor sorrow, nor death are there. 
 There is fulness of joy and happiness for ever- 
 more. Nor shall the souls only of the saints 
 be thus blessed and happy : their bodies which 
 now rest in hope, shall also be raised with im- 
 mortal beauty and excellence. They are still 
 under the guardianship of that blessed Saviour, 
 to whom the very dust of the saints is precious, 
 who will not suifer one atom of their bodies 
 
176 SERMON IX. 
 
 to perish ; who was himself the first fruits of 
 them who sleep, and who by the resurrection 
 of his own body, has consecrated theirs to a 
 glorious immortality. *' For, since by man 
 *' came death, by man came also the resur- 
 ** rection of the dead ; and, therefore, when 
 *' Christ, who is our life, shall appear, we 
 *' shall also appear with him in glory.'* By 
 that almighty power by which he made the 
 w^orlds, and upholds them in being ; by which 
 he nailed our sins to the cross, triumphed over 
 the king of terrours, and conquered all the 
 legions of the prince of darkness, he will also 
 rescue the captive bodies of all the saints from 
 the power of the grave, raise them up in his 
 own most glorious likeness, and swallow up 
 death in victory. He will command the four 
 winds to restore those bodies which they have 
 scattered over the face of the earth. The 
 winds and storms shall obey his word ; the sea 
 shall give up the dead which are in it, and 
 death and hell shall deliver up the dead which 
 are in them, and all the generations of men 
 shall return to a life which endurethfor ever. 
 '* I will ransom them from the power of the 
 ^^ grave : I will redeem them from death. 
 ** O death I will be thy plague : O grave I 
 
SERMON IX. 177 
 
 '* will be thy destruction." In the joyful 
 prospect of this happy event, a dying saint 
 can even now triumph over death, and say, 
 '* O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where 
 *' is thy victory." Thanks be to God who 
 giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 VOL. II. A a 
 
ITS 
 
 SERMON X 
 
 The goodness and power of Christ, ?nanifested by 
 his works on earth, conclusive proofs of his 
 divine nature. 
 
 John, Chap. 9, Verse 32. 
 
 " Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened 
 the eyes of one that was born blind." 
 
 My present object is, in the first place, to 
 make a few remarks on the history recorded 
 in this chapter, and then to state the force of 
 the argument impHed in the text; that since 
 Jesus opened the eyes of the bhnd, and did 
 many miracles, he must have been something 
 more tlian man ; must have been commission- 
 ed and countenanced by heaven : for since 
 the world began it was never heard that any 
 jnan altered the course of nature, or opened 
 the eyes of one who had been born blind. 
 
 Who can sufficiently admire the wisdom 
 gnd goodness of Jesus in choosing the person 
 
SERMON X. 179 
 
 spoken of in this chapter of the Evangelist as 
 the subject of a miracle. He was a poor blind 
 man who sat begging at the gate of the tem- 
 ple. The great and the mighty of this world 
 would have passed by without noticing such 
 a child of misery* or they would perhaps have 
 made him an object of their scorn, and a sub- 
 ject for their diversion. But Jesus, though 
 higher than the highest, always practised the 
 most endearing condescension and humility, 
 and preached good tidings unto the poor. He 
 went about continually doing good ; seeking 
 objects of distress whom he might relieve, 
 constantly employed in that merciful errand 
 on which he was sent. His miracles were all 
 of the humane and benevolent kind. The 
 infinite power with which he was armed, was 
 never employed but for the benefit of man- 
 kind. In order to display it he did not com- 
 mand fire to descend from heaven and con- 
 sume his enemies ; he did not let loose the 
 tempest as a scourge to punish mankind ; he 
 did not strike dumb the tongue which blas- 
 phemed him, or deprive of sight them who 
 sought to apprehend him. On the contrary, 
 he bound up the broken hearted, he proclaim- 
 ed liberty to the captive, he fed the hungry, 
 
180 SERMON X. 
 
 he opened the eyes of the Mind, he gave 
 hearing to the deaf, and feet to the lame. 
 How forcible a demonstration of his divine 
 original. So gracious a messenger could pro- 
 ceed only from him who is love and goodness 
 itself. How beautiful and striking a charac- 
 teristick of that dispensation of grace which 
 he came to reveal ! How noble an example 
 for our imitation ! 
 
 This poor man was not only blind, but he 
 had been so from his infancy. His blindness 
 was not the effect of any accident or disease, 
 which art or medicine might remove. It was 
 a natural defect in the organ, to supply which 
 the same infinite power and wisdom were re- 
 quisite as to form the organ at first. This pre- 
 cluded the possibility of any kind of deception, 
 and fully evinced the truth and certainty of 
 the miracle. 
 
 It is, farther, worthy of remark that the 
 person now cured was well known to the in- 
 habitants of Jerusalem. His misfortune, his 
 profession, his situation, must have attracted 
 the attention of multitudes. As he daily sat 
 at the gate of the temple asking alms from the 
 passengers, he must have been known to all 
 who went thither to pay their morning and 
 
SERMON X. 181 
 
 evening sacrifice. This circumstance was an 
 undeniable proof of the certainty of the mira- 
 cle ; it shewed that there was no collusion in 
 the case ; that this man was not suborned to 
 declare that he had been born blind while he 
 really had not ; but, being known to the mall, 
 it was evident that, if he was restored to sight, 
 a miraculous work had actually been perform- 
 ed. 
 
 As Jesus, therefore, went out of the temple, 
 he cast an eye on this hapless sufferer, whom 
 he immediately discerned to be a proper ob- 
 ject of compassion, and the fit subject of a 
 miracle. His disciples also beheld the blind 
 man, but with very different impressions. 
 With a disposition, of which we have still too 
 many examples, to consider the misfortunes 
 of others as judgments from heaven, and with 
 a very unseasonable spirit of curiosity, they 
 ask, ** Master, who did sin, this man, or his 
 *' parents, that he was born blind V* The an- 
 swer is direct and positive ; there was an high- 
 er cause, the glory which would redound to 
 God by this demonstration of his mercy and 
 power. We are as clay in the hands of the 
 potter, who maketh one vessel unto honour 
 and another unto dishonour. The divine vis- 
 
1^-2 SERxMON X. 
 
 itatlons are not all punishments : some are for 
 our trial, our warning, our reformation : all 
 shew forth the power, the justice, and the 
 goodness of God. 
 
 He who at first said, let there be light, and 
 there was light, could with one word have 
 opened the eyes of the blind. Nay, without 
 utterance his will was sufficient to have pro- 
 duced the effect. But he chose to employ 
 the instrumentality of means. Nor did this 
 detract in the least from the miraculous nature 
 of the cure. For It surely required power 
 equally infinite to communicate to clay and 
 water, the ability of curing the blind, as it 
 does to open their eyes instantaneously, and 
 without the intervention of second causes. 
 But Jesus would try thefaith and obedience of 
 his patient ; he would teach us that it is only 
 by the use of those means v/hich he has ap- 
 pointed that we can expect the cure of our 
 spiritual diseases: he would shew that the most 
 improbable means will produce the desired 
 eftbct when lie determines that it shall be so : 
 that bread and wine can strengthen and refresh 
 the soul when received by faith according to 
 his appointment : that water can avail to the 
 mystical washing away of sins, when accom- 
 
SERMON X. 185 
 
 panied with the blessing from on high : that 
 Jordan can heal a leper and Siloam give light 
 to the blind, when the Almighty gives the 
 word, go, wash and be whole. In short, he 
 would represent by expressive symbols the 
 original depravity of our guilty and polluted 
 nature, and the necessity of our being washed, 
 cleansed and sanctified by the blood of Jesus 
 and the Spirit uf our God. AV ashing in the 
 pool of Siloam was, therefore, merely a sacra- 
 mental act, whereby the blessings to be com- 
 municated were typified and sealed, and the 
 divine power more strikingly manifested in the 
 sight of the people. 
 
 The feehngs of the blind man, upon the 
 communication of sight, are difficult to be ex- 
 pressed or even conceived by us who have 
 always enjoyed the faculty of sight, and who, 
 being never subjected to the want of it, do not 
 sufficiently value this important blessing. 
 From the general and obvious views of nature 
 which present themselves to every man, let 
 me direct your thoughts to this spiritual im- 
 provement. 
 
 Into what a world of wonders did the blind 
 man find himself transported ! How did he 
 gaze with admiration on the heavens and thx: 
 
184 SERMON X. 
 
 earth, on the faces and shapes of all creatures, 
 on the varieties of colours around him, on the 
 cheerfulness of the light, on the lively beams 
 of the sun, on the vast expanse of the air, on 
 the limpid transparency of the water, on the 
 glorious ornaments of the temple, and on the 
 stately places of Jerusalem ! Every thing was 
 full of delight, and excited astonishment. 
 With similar sensations will the servants of 
 God enter into the joy of their Lord. Thus 
 will they be affected when, the darkness of 
 mortality being done away, they shall behold 
 God's presence in righteousness, whence they 
 shall be called to witness the felicity of the 
 world above, the shining mansions of saints 
 and angels, the majestick splendour of the di- 
 vine throne, and the incomprehensible bright- 
 ness of the Godhead. 
 
 So great was the change produced on the 
 external appearance as well as the inward 
 feelings of the man who had been restored to 
 sight, that his neighbours and acquaintance 
 did not at first recognise him to be the same 
 person. This shewed the certainty and great- 
 ness of the miracle. They did not greedily 
 swallow, like simple and ignorant people, the 
 tale however improbable, but believed only 
 
SERMON X. 185 
 
 after a careful inquiry into the fact. The 
 thing itself was in their opinion also so great 
 and wonderful, that witliout the express testi- 
 mony of their senses, they would have deem- 
 ed it a mere trick and imposition. This may 
 also be considered as a fit representation of the 
 change produced in the habits of him whose 
 spiritual blindness is removed by light from on 
 high. His former companions in guih and 
 folly, unable to account for the change, are 
 doubtful whether it be the same person. His 
 heart and conduct are certainly not the same. 
 Before, the mind was dark and gloomy — now, 
 it is full of light and cheerfuhiess, through the 
 knowledge of God, and the hope of heaven. 
 Before, the heart was devoted to earthly things 
 — now the convert uses this world as not abu- 
 sing it. Before, his thoughts and anxieties had 
 reference only to his body, his estate, or the 
 opinion of mankind — now, they regard the 
 displeasure of God and the peril of his soul. 
 '^ If any man be in Christ, he is a new crea- 
 ^* ture. Old things are passed away — behold, 
 '' all things are become new !" 
 
 The poor man removes the doubts of his 
 friends, by declaring I am he. He would not 
 conceal from others the mercies he had ex- 
 
 voL. n. B b 
 
186 SERMON X, 
 
 perienced ; he would not be so unjust ot 
 ungrateful as to suppress the loving kindness 
 of his God. We are unworthy of that light 
 and those blessings which we enjoy, unless we 
 seek to diffuse them among mankind. *' Let 
 '* them give thanks whom the Lord hath re- 
 *' deemed and delivered from the hand of the 
 *' enemy ; let them praise him with their 
 ** whole heart ; let them shew forth all his 
 ** marvellous works ; let them declare his 
 *' name among their brethren ; let them exalt 
 ^* him in the congregation of the people, and 
 '^ praise him in the assembly of the elders." 
 
 They who before doubted, now became in- 
 quisitive. They ask, how were thine eyes 
 opened ? The poor man, who had been so 
 ready to declare himself the subject of the 
 cure, is equally zealous to proclaim the authour 
 of it. '' A man that is called Jesus made clay 
 *' and anointed mine eyes, and said to me, 
 ** go to the pool of Siloam and wash, and I 
 *^ went and washed and I received sight.'* 
 
 Had the people, who made inquiry into this 
 astonishing fact, heard it with unprejudiced 
 ears, they could not but have listened with 
 pious admiration ; they could not but have 
 declared their belief in so omnipotent an 
 
SERMON X. 187 
 
 Agent. But, adverse to the blessed Jesus, 
 and partial to the Pharisees, they summon 
 him that was once blind before these implaca- 
 ble enemies of Christ, and this cure having 
 been performed on the Sabbath, they fix upr 
 on this circumstance as the ground of their 
 accusation. 
 
 But as the malice of Christ's enemies was, 
 for the most part, frustrated and repelled up- 
 on their own heads, so their present scheme 
 not only failed of success, but served to make 
 the miracle wrought by him on the blind 
 man more generally known — served to shew 
 its force in proving his divine mission and to 
 increase the number of his disciples. AVe 
 now find the man who once sat and begged, 
 witnessing a good confession before the as- 
 sembled Pharisees. We find him defending 
 the gracious authour of his cure against the 
 cavils of malignity and injustice. We see 
 him, a resolute confessor, suffering excom- 
 munication for the name of Christ, and main- 
 taining the innocence, the honour, the divini- 
 ty of his benefactor. We hear him teaching 
 the doctrines of truth to them who sat in the 
 chair of Moses, and convicting of blindness 
 t'hem who punished him for seeing. 
 
188 SERMON X. 
 
 The Pharisees strove to confute and dis- 
 prove the testimony of the man that was blind 
 by an appeal to his parents. They supposed 
 that the fear of excommunication and of in- 
 curing the anger of the rulers, would induce 
 them to deny the circumstance of their son's 
 being born blind, and thus it would follow 
 that no miracle had been performed. Being 
 disappointed in this, and finding it impossible 
 to deny the fact, they next try to suppress it ; 
 and, by reviling the man who had been cured, 
 to make him ashamed of confessing Jesus. 
 But neither did this succeed. The man, far 
 from being ashamed to own himself a disci- 
 ple of Jesus, endeavours to persuade them 
 also to become such, and argues with them 
 upon the subject of this miracle with a sim- 
 plicity, but at the same time with an ingenui- 
 ty and force of reasoning, which cannot be 
 surpassed even by the most acute disputants. 
 
 Miracles have ever been esteemed an un- 
 deniable proof of a divine mission. Our 
 Lord himself appeals to those w^orks which he 
 wrought as the best argument which he could 
 employ in support of his pretensions as the 
 son of God. 
 
 When John sent two of his disciples to in- 
 
SERMON X. 18P 
 
 quire whether Jesus was the Messiah, our 
 Lord gave no other answer than this. Go and 
 shew John again those things which yc do 
 hear and see, inform him ot" my works, and 
 let him judge if they can be performed by 
 any other than the sent of God. The bUnd 
 receive their sight, and the lame walk, the 
 lepers are cleansed, the deaf hcar^ and the 
 dead are raised up. 
 
 The argument derived from miracles being 
 the main pillar of the Christian faith, much 
 has been said and written concerning their 
 nature, possibility, credibility, and tendency, 
 to prove the truth of Christianity. But the 
 argument was perhaps never more forcibly 
 and concisely stated than in the simple and 
 ingenious discourse of this poor man, who 
 had himself been the subject of so striking a 
 miracle : *' Why, herein is a marvellous 
 *' thing, that ye know not from whence he 
 ^* is, and yet he hath opened mine eyes. 
 ** Now we know that God hearcth not sinners ; 
 ^* but if any man be a worshipper of God, 
 " and doeth his will, him he heareth. Since 
 " the world began was it not heard that any 
 *' man opened the eyes of one that was born 
 ** blind. If this man was not of God, he 
 '' could do nothing/' 
 
190 SERMON X. 
 
 To alter, suspend, or reverse the laws df 
 nature, must require the same infinite power 
 which first established them. In the words 
 of the man who was once blind, " Smce the 
 '* world began was it not heard that any man 
 ** opened the eyes of one that was born blind.'* 
 Whoever alters, suspends, or reverses the 
 laws of nature, must either be a divine per- 
 son, or must be invested with divine power ; 
 in the language of the person who had been 
 blind, '^ if this man was not of God he could 
 " do nothing/' From the nature of the 
 Supreme Being we may with absolute certain- 
 ly infer, that he will not countenance an im- 
 postor, that he will not alter or suspend the 
 laws of nature but for wise and important pur- 
 poses, that they who are endowed with the 
 power of working miracles are approved and 
 sent by him, and are worthy of credit in all 
 they say, and of obedience in all they com- 
 mand ; in the words of scripture, '' We know 
 '* that God heareth not sinners ; but if any 
 '^ man be a worshipper of God and doeth his 
 "will, him he heareth." The general in- 
 ference from these points is evident, since 
 Jesus Christ wrought miracles, he was sent 
 by God, and since he was sent by God, his 
 
SERMON X. 191 
 
 religion is true and of divine authority. We 
 are as much bound to believe and obey it, as 
 to obey the voice of conscience, which is the 
 natural vicegerent of God in the soul of man. 
 But how are we certain that Jesus Christ did 
 work miracles ? Of this we are equally cer- 
 tain as of his existence. For both are decla- 
 red by the same persons and rest upon the 
 same authority. And of the existence of 
 Jesus Christ we are as certain as that there was 
 such a person as Julius Caesar, who was dead 
 more than 1 800 years ago, or that there is such 
 an island as Japan w^hich none of us perhaps 
 ever saw. Our knowledge in both cases rests 
 on the testimony of credible- witnesses ; and, 
 perhaps, the historians of our Saviour's life 
 and miracles are more worthy of credit than 
 any others, because by affirming what they 
 did, they exposed themselves to loss and per- 
 secution ; and some of them moreover sealed 
 their testimony with their blood. They must 
 have been well assured of the truth of facts 
 which they would die rather than bear wit- 
 ness against. 
 
 The reasoning of the poor man, wliose 
 natural and spiritual eyes had both so lately 
 been opened, was so convincing and powerful 
 
19^ SERMON X. 
 
 that even the subtle and ingenious Pharisees 
 could make no reply. But, instead of yield- 
 ing to his arguments, such was their perverse- 
 ness and pride, that they determined to get 
 rid of him whose presence and discourse were 
 equally galling to them ; and they cast him 
 out of the Synagogue. As light is painful to 
 a diseased eye, so truth is unpleasant to a 
 mind entangled by prejudice and errour. 
 Fools despise wisdom and instruction. A 
 scorner hateth rebuke and shutteth his ear to 
 those friendly admonitions which open to him 
 his faults. The wicked cannot bear the pre- 
 sence and example of wise and good men. 
 Their own vices and defects appear then in a 
 clearer light. 
 
 The poor man that was once blind, though 
 cast out, was not forsaken. Though ejected 
 from the Synagogue, he was admitted into 
 the kingdom of Heaven : And wherever the 
 gospel of Jesus is preached, he will be re- 
 membered and spoken of to the end of the 
 world as the first confessor and martyr to the 
 Christian cause. No sacrifice made for the 
 sake of Christ shall be in vain. He is faithful 
 who hath promised, and he is not unjust to 
 forget our work of faith and labour of love. 
 
SERMON X. 193 
 
 Whosoever loveth father or mother, brother 
 or sister, more than Christ, is not worthy of 
 him. But whosoever shall leave father and 
 mother, brother and sister, house and land, 
 for the sake of the gospel, shall ni no wise 
 lose his reward. If any man deny Christ be- 
 fore men, him will he also deny before his 
 father who is in heaven. But they who pre- 
 serve themselves unspotted from the world, 
 who steadfastly and faithfully bear testimony 
 to the truth in the midst of a crooked and per- 
 verse generation, shall be openly acknow- 
 ledged in the presence of his father and his 
 holy angels, and graciously welcomed into 
 the joy of their Lord. 
 
 VOL, II,. q c 
 
194 
 
 SERMON XI, 
 
 On the duty of holding the righteous in remem- 
 brajice, and the important advantages derived 
 from the recollection of their virtues. 
 
 Psalm 112, Verse 6. 
 ** The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance.'* 
 
 Righteousness, in the language of scrips 
 
 ture, denotes general worth or excellence of 
 character : To it is ascribed whatever belongs 
 to reHgion or holiness. He that is- righteous 
 and shall be had in everlasting remembrance 
 is described in this Psalm as fearing God, de- 
 lighting greatly in his commandments, up- 
 right, gracious, full of compassion and charity. 
 Sometimes, indeed, the sense of the expres- 
 sion is limited, and the righteous are compared 
 and contrasted with those who are distinguish- 
 ed by goodness. Thus, in the well known 
 illustration of the grace of God in the salvation 
 
SERMON XI. 195 
 
 of men, the Apostle observes, '* scarcely for 
 '* a rigliteous man will one die, yet peradven- 
 '* turc for a good man some would even dare 
 *' to die/' But, in general, and excepting 
 comparisons and distinctions of this kind, by 
 righteousness is meant whatever belongs to a 
 perfect character. 
 
 Persons of this character shall be in ever- 
 lasting remembrance. This expression must 
 also be understood in a sense limited by the 
 temporary duration of all human affections 
 and pursuits. The time of our sojourning 
 h^re Is but short, and the survivor, in whose 
 memory the good man lives, shall himself 
 soon pass away and be forgotten. A few illus- 
 trious characters, whose lot enabled them to 
 perform great exploits, and to act a distinguish- 
 ed part on the theatre of the world, may live 
 for ever in the page of history, and receive the 
 praises and the blessings of all future genera- 
 tions of men. But with regard to the great 
 bulk of mankind, even the pious, the upright, 
 and the good, their love and their hatred and 
 their envy soon perish, and, in a little time, 
 the place which once knew them shall know 
 them no more. The Psalmist, therefore, 
 means that the memory of the righteous sliall 
 
196 SERMON XL 
 
 not speedily be effaced from the hearts of those 
 who knew and valued then* inlegrhy and 
 worth, but sliall be often and long recalled 
 with sentiments of honour, gratitude, and af- 
 fection. 
 
 In illustration of this subject, I propose to 
 inquire, 
 
 1. By whom the memory of the just is 
 blessed, and held in respectful and grateful 
 remembrance. 
 
 ^2. Why we ought to hold the righteous in 
 everlasting remembrance, and 
 
 3. ^«t£; we shall most properly and effec- 
 tually perpetuate the remembrance of the 
 righteous. 
 
 I. We are to inquire by whom the memory 
 of the just is blessed, and long held in respect- 
 ful and grateful remembrance — and 
 
 1. Good men are held in everlasting re- 
 membrance by their own family : for by them 
 the benign influence of their good qualities 
 was most sensibly felt. In them the memory 
 of their virtues was mingled with the warm 
 sentiments of natural affection. To them the 
 loss of their love, their services, their example, 
 is the severest deprivation. The affectionate 
 partner of their lives, who, for a long course 
 
SERMON XL 197 
 
 of years has been in the habit of imparting 
 mutual assistance and consolation, whose in- 
 terests were necessarily interwoven with theirs, 
 whose happiness was greatly, I had almost 
 said wholly, in their power, who best knew 
 their good qualities, who witnessed that piety 
 and charity which modesty concealed from 
 the publick eye ; on them doubtless is made 
 the most lasting impression of the virtue and 
 affection of the partner who is gone down to 
 the dust ; to their memory the venerable 
 image is often present ; in their ears the lisp- 
 ing accents of their common offspring are 
 eloquent ; the features of the deceased per- 
 petuated in the children who survive, recall 
 and renew that respect and gratitude and affec- 
 tion which the living failed not to command, 
 and suffer not the memorial to perish from 
 their breast. 
 
 To the children also of worthy and affec- 
 tionate parents, who are now no more, the 
 remembrance of their character can never 
 cease to be interesting. To them they impute 
 with pleasure and gratitude the various virtues 
 they may possess ; to them they refer the suc- 
 cess in life which they may have enjoyed ; 
 to their latest hour they reflect with melan- 
 
198 SERMON XL 
 
 choly satisfaction on the fond and affectionate 
 solicitude and anxiety with which they watch- 
 ed over their infant years, and guarded their 
 steps in the slippery paths of youth ; on the 
 pains and expense which they bestowed on 
 their instruction and education ; how they 
 kindly relieved their wants, and attended them 
 in sickness and pain; how they solemnly 
 warned them of the ways of the destroyer ; 
 how they led them by their wise precepts and 
 pious example into the paths of peace ; on 
 the sanguine hopes which they delighted to 
 indulge from the prospects of their opening 
 talents, and on the fervent prayers which they 
 addressed to heaven for their prosperity and 
 success in life. The time is not distant when 
 we ourselves shall live no more ; but if we are 
 righteous, we shall be had in remembrance. 
 If we are faithful to our God and to our chil- 
 dren, they will bless and consecrate our mem- 
 ory when our heads are laid in the dust. 
 Even their posterity may learn some good 
 thing from them which we have imparted ; 
 and that happy day may at last come, when 
 we shall be able to say before the throne of 
 God, '' Behold us and the children whom 
 ^' thou hast given us.'' 
 
SERMON XL 199 
 
 May we not even descend lower, and say 
 that the righteous man is held in remembrance 
 by the domesticks also of his family. Tlie 
 servants of a just, humane and generous mas- 
 ter, remember with gratitude the marks of 
 kindness and confidence which he has be- 
 stowed on them ; they regret his departure 
 with unfeigned sorrow ; they respect his 
 memory ; when they go abroad into the 
 world they celebrate his praise ; by them his 
 character reaches far and near, and is handed 
 down with honour to the children of many 
 generations. 
 
 2. The righteous are held in remembrance 
 by the more intimate associates of their youth 
 or of their more mature age. 
 
 The pressure on the mind is severe indeed 
 when by the will of God we have lost the 
 most faithful, the most affectionate of our 
 associates ; those of whom we had conceived 
 the most delightful expectations ; or those by 
 whose means we had attained the most solid 
 advantages for this world or for eternity. But 
 their memorial is not lost; not the remem- 
 brance of their virtues and of their intellectual 
 endowments ; not the remembrance of their 
 kindness ; not the remembrance of their 
 
200 SERMON XT. 
 
 usefulness to us ; nor the remembrance of 
 the satisfaction which we have enjoyed with 
 them. And wliat is truly encouraging and 
 truly worthy of attention is, tliat all that wa^ 
 precious and praiseworthy in a departed friend, 
 remains in the memory, while all his imper- 
 fections are buried in the grave. It is their 
 good and estimable qualities alone which con- 
 secrate their memorial within us, separated 
 from all the infirmities which were once uni- 
 ted to them. This, while it adds to the honour 
 and respect manifested for the memory of the 
 dead, is as useful as it is gratifying to the living. 
 We remember that which was good : we for- 
 get every infirmity which was attached to it ; 
 we dw^ell with affection on every advantage 
 and on every satisfaction which it yielded to 
 us, and its living impression isrivetted on our 
 hearts. We feel as if the image of the depart- 
 ed virtues, pure as the spirits of just men made 
 perfect, were before us, and we are still united 
 to them as by the cords of love. These recol- 
 lections equally solemn and impressive, have 
 a direct tendency both to comfort us in our 
 sorrow for those who are asleep, and to purify 
 our affections during the rest of our pilgrim- 
 age. We think of those who walked with 
 
SERMON XL 201 
 
 God ; and their memorial kindles our abhor- 
 rence of the pollutions of the world, while 
 k awakens our ardour to become followers of 
 them who through faith and patience inherit 
 the promises. We think of the departed spi- 
 rits who were once our companions below, as 
 we contemplate the angels of God descending 
 to bless our recollections and to watch our ha- 
 bitations. 
 
 This posthumous existence in the memory 
 of those whom we once esteemed and loved 
 is a powerful incitement to virtue and a strong 
 consolation to the virtuous in the prospect of 
 their departure hence. For to be remembered 
 while he is no more ; to be sometimes recalled 
 to the memory of the living when he is re- 
 moved out of their sight ; to be wished alive 
 again by some of his surviving friends when 
 he is numbered with the dead, is among the 
 fondest desires of man. On the other hand, the 
 thought that as soon as our breath is flown 
 our memory is obliterated ; that our remem- 
 brance shall perish from the earth and we shall 
 have no name in the streets, is depressing be- 
 yond conception to the human mind, and sink??. 
 man even lower than the grave which hi'^ bo- 
 dy is to occupy. 
 
 VOL. II, D d 
 
202 SERMON XI. 
 
 3. But while the memory of the wicked 
 shall utterly perish, or be recalled by all good 
 men with detestation and abhorrence, the 
 righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance ; 
 and that not only among their family and 
 friends, but also by all whom their labours 
 have profited, their instruction enlightened, 
 their example improved, or their bounty re- 
 lieved. 
 
 The dispositions which lead men to employ 
 their talents for the advantage of then* fellow- 
 creatures, and to do them good offices freely 
 without any hope of a requital, createoneof the 
 first distinctions by which one man can be rai- 
 sed above another. If they are animated by the 
 pure and cheerful spirit of religion they form 
 the most interesting of human characters. The 
 love wliich directs us, by a sense of duty, 
 where to feed the hungry, to clothe the na- 
 ked, to assist the weak, to comfort the poor, or 
 to revive the sorrowful ; the love which makes 
 usefulness our happiness, and the help of eve- 
 ry kind which we can bring to others our 
 habitual solicitude, is love out of a pure 
 heart, such as Christ requires and acknow- 
 ledges. 
 
 When this affection becomes the habit of 
 
SERMON Xr. 203 
 
 the mind, it always finds its object readily; 
 and vvitliout departing from its proper sphere, 
 will always lead to the means of gloritying 
 God. It extends to those who need advice 
 or countenance, as well as to those who arc 
 destitute of food and raim^Mit ; to those who 
 require the aid of superiour influence or su- 
 periour talents, as well as to those who are 
 pressed down with sorrow ; to the hidden re- 
 treats of ignorance and misery, as well as to 
 the opportunities of known and publick utili- 
 ty The usefulness of men who live under 
 the influence of benevolent and generous at- 
 fections, and who follow them steadily and 
 earnestly through life, extends far beyond 
 their natural or immediate sphere, by means 
 of those whom they relieve or assist ; and even 
 beyond the limits of their own lives. But 
 every thing which depends on the breath of 
 man has its destined period. The most use- 
 ful life is spent, before we are aware of its 
 progress ; and all the kindness which anima- 
 ted its spirit perishes in the dust. 
 
 The selfish man dies, and we lament not ; 
 or we think of him with more compassion 
 than regret, or we remember the artful guise 
 which his selfishness could put on, and have 
 
m^, SERMON XI. 
 
 nothing better to remember ; or we think of 
 those who fill his place, and who cannot be 
 less useful in the world than he has been. 
 
 But the righteous do not perish as the fool 
 dieth : they leave an impressive and a perma- 
 nent memorial. When such men depart, we 
 feel as if a dark cloud had risen around us, 
 and we fear as we enter into the cloud. We 
 think with emotion of the short-lived labours 
 of the most faithful men, and of the pressure 
 of calamities on the world when they are ga- 
 thered to the dust of their fathers ; they who 
 had so great a share in all that was worths and 
 respectable around them ; they whose hand 
 was found in every thing useful or pleasing 
 to their fellow creatures When the righte- 
 ous is taken away, the living will lay it to 
 heart. The report of his disease excites uni- 
 versal sympathy and regret. The poor whom 
 his bounty relieved, as they pass the mansion 
 where he once resided, will strike their pen- 
 sive bosoms and say, *' this was the abode of 
 ^' him whose heart was ever anxious to devise 
 *^ and whose hand was ever ready to execute 
 *' liberal things/' The religious society of 
 vvhich he was so worthy a member will often 
 turn v/ith tears in ihcir eyes to the place which 
 
SERMON XI. ^06 
 
 he once occupied in their assembly, but which 
 is now left vacant. The orphan will pay ma- 
 ny a grateful visit to his grave, and water with 
 his tears the spot where the ashes of his father 
 repose. 
 
 II. As we cannot propose any thing but 
 the most cursory view of the subject on which 
 I have proposed to treat, I now hasten to in- 
 quire why we ought to cherish the remem- 
 brance of good men. 
 
 1 . And we ought to honour the memory 
 of the just from respect to their worth. Can 
 we refuse to esteem the tender husband, the 
 aflectionate parent, the generous master, the 
 faithful friend, the good member of society, 
 the friend of religion ? Who so odd as not 
 to revere the man who considers the case of 
 the poor, and promotes and diffuses happiness 
 around him ? He who has eminently and 
 perseveringly sustained these characters can- 
 not be forgotten by the wise and discerning. 
 
 It is our duty to venerate the Image of God : 
 we must therefore respect and honour those 
 who are his workmanship, who are renewed 
 after his likeness in righteousness and true 
 holiness ; who are his children, heirs of God 
 and joint heirs with Jesus Christ. The charms 
 
^06 SERMON XI. 
 
 and attractions of the most perfect form what 
 are they compared to the beauties of holiness ? 
 Where are proportion, grace, and dignity- 
 equal to their's, vvho are the children of the 
 most high ? The righteous resemble God ; 
 they strive to be perfect as he is perfect ; to be 
 holy as he is holy ; and to have the same 
 mind in them which was also in Christ. And 
 can we think of the perfections of deity ; can 
 we contemplate the amiable and perfect cha- 
 racter of the son of man without sentiments of 
 veneration, honour, and love ? And in re- 
 garding the righteous as imitators of God, as 
 resembling our blessed Redeemer, shall we not 
 be filled with pleasure and admiration ? Shall 
 we not be constrained and determined to pre- 
 serve their memory with honour ? 
 
 ^2. We ought to remember the righteous 
 with respect and honour out of gratitude for 
 the advantages which we have received from 
 them. When we shew kindness and confer 
 favours we well know and naturally expect 
 that they should make an impression on the 
 minds of those who receive them. We feel 
 their insensibility and ingratitude when no 
 return is made. What we resent and condemn 
 in others, shall we be capable of committing 
 
SERMON XI. ^07 
 
 towards our worthy benefactors ? Wc must 
 not forget what profit we have derived from 
 them. We must affectionately remember 
 what we owe to their cares, their counsels, 
 their exertions, their assistance, their friend- 
 ship and their example. By beholding their 
 good works and worthy character, we have 
 been imperceptibly and sweetly drawn to the 
 approbation and imitation of real excellence. 
 We are in the way of receiving much advan- 
 tage also, after they are removed from us, by 
 revolving the years that are past, by review- 
 ing the worthy deeds and high attainments of 
 the saints who have left us. Thus we learn 
 what was avoided, what was resisted, and 
 what was overcome : we learn how amiable, 
 how comfortable, how respectable, is the life 
 of the righteous. They shew us, and shall it 
 be without effect, how to conduct ourselves 
 with propriety, by what means to attain their 
 distinction and enjoyments, how to secure the 
 approbation of the wise and good, and espe- 
 cially of the Judge of all. 
 
 3. We ought to remember the righteous with 
 honour, and, from a sense of justice, to vindi- 
 cate their character and counteract the influ- 
 ence of misrepresentation and detraction. 
 
^208 SERMON XL 
 
 We well know that good may be evil spo- 
 ken of; we well know that some men are ex- 
 ceedingly eager to grasp at, and to circulate 
 unfavourable reports of religious characters. 
 They lessen the worth of the righteous, they 
 impute improper motives to their best actions, 
 and take delight in bringing them to their own 
 level. Piety and punctuality in celebrating 
 the institutions of religion have often been 
 branded as hypocrisy ; alms-giving, and atten- 
 tion to the necessities and comforts of the poor 
 are called ostentation ; liberality, in its most 
 generous deeds and exertions, has been repre- 
 sented as the most interested selfishness ; regu- 
 lar manners are styled want of spirit and pen- 
 uriousness. If, my friends, the righteous are 
 so misrepresented and traduced, if especially 
 they have enabled us to be vouchers and 
 witnesses for their worth by their friendship 
 and good offices, are we not called upon to 
 do them justice ? Let us assert the purity of 
 their principles, the genuineness, the regular- 
 ity and fervour of their devotions, their pure 
 and active charity, and that, in short, their be- 
 haviour was such as becomes the gospel of 
 the grace of God which denies ungodliness 
 
SERMON XL 209 
 
 and worldly lusts, and teaches men to live 
 soberly, righteously, and godly in this life. 
 
 4. We ought to cherish the remembrance of 
 good men, from a regard to the honour and 
 interest of religion. We ought to speak of 
 their worth and exhibit their characters, that 
 thereby men may be induced to admire and 
 receive that blessed system, the excellence 
 and power and truth of which were demon- 
 strated in their attainments, worth and happi- 
 ness. We are required to employ every me- 
 thod of affecting and impressing the minds of 
 men, and of leading them to think seriously 
 of their souls, of their duty and of eternity. 
 Thus our Lord urges his followers to manifest 
 superiour goodness, in order to promote the in- 
 terest of religion, let your light so shine before 
 men, that others seeing your good works may 
 glorify your father in heaven. But it may be 
 that we are afraid to propose ourselves as mo- 
 dels of excellence for the imitation of others, 
 and of those especially whose best interest we 
 have most at heart. To them, too, our real char- 
 acter may not be sufficiently known ; they may 
 remain under the influence of misrepresenta- 
 tion, prejudice and suspicion respecting us. 
 
 VOL. II. E e 
 
^210 SERMON XL 
 
 If these things be so, or if we only think oiir 
 example labours under such disadvantages, we 
 are bound the more to avail ourselves of the 
 known worth and reputation of the righteous 
 for arresting the attention, exciting the esteem, 
 and gaining the hearts of our friends. From 
 time to time, and as occasion offers, let us thus 
 address those who are dear to us. ** See what 
 '^ this righteous man was, what objects he pur- 
 *« sued, what worth he manifested, he preferred 
 *' the service of God, he sought the honour that 
 *« Cometh from the most high. He was respec- 
 << ted and honoured in life. His memory is 
 ^' dear to his surviving friends. He resisted 
 *< the prevailing vices and temptations of the 
 ** age, and of his condition of life. He wit- 
 " nessed for God, and adorned the doctrine of 
 *« God his Saviour." By representations of this 
 kind, and the reflections and expostulations 
 they naturally suggest, much good may be 
 done; our object may be secured : our friends 
 may be rendered attentive, they may even be 
 affected and changed, they may arise and fol- 
 low the righteous ; they may walk as they also 
 walked. 
 
 5. In a word, we ought to cherish the re- 
 membrance of good men, from a regard to 
 
SERMON XL 211 
 
 the glory of God. Honouring the righteous 
 is to the glory of God and the promoting of 
 the interest of the gospel, beeause in their char- 
 acter, their attainments, and their happiness, 
 the glory of God is displayed, the image of 
 God is exhibited, and the happiness of the 
 saints is demonstrated. Piety delights in be- 
 holding the glory of the Lord in all his works 
 and ways ; in the heavens and in the earth, 
 in the sea and in the dry land. There are 
 manifestations of his glory, however, more es- 
 pecially attracting and affecting. What is 
 seen of God in the history and character of the 
 saints is of this nature. We see the divine 
 wisdom, power, goodness, sovereignty and 
 faithfulness, in raising them up ; in the dis- 
 pensations of his providence towards them ; 
 in the influence of his grace ; in their being 
 sanctified, established and settled; in their be- 
 ing kept through faith unto salvation, we 
 find the saints ascribe their salvation in all its 
 parts to the blessing of God. *^ In me, says the 
 *' Apostle, Jesus Christ shewed all long-suffer- 
 ** ing. By the grace of God 1 am what 1 am." 
 Christians, in finding the persecutor and blas- 
 phemer preaching the faith which he once 
 strove to destroy, glorified God in him. In 
 
-2V2 SERMON XL 
 
 the progress and perfection of the Christian life, 
 and in the history of the saints, the presence, 
 power and faithfulness of God are manifested 
 according to their varying conditions and ex- 
 igenci^. Is it not our duty to preserve such 
 manifestations of God that the affections and 
 graces of piety may be awakened and cherish- 
 ed ? This we do by holding the righteous in 
 honoured remembrance. Happy are they 
 who by paying due honour to the righteous, 
 and making their light to shine before men, 
 induce them to glorify their heavenly father, 
 
 III. We are now^, in the last place, to in* 
 quire how we shall most properly and effectu- 
 ally perpetuate the remembrance of the righte- 
 ous who have no more share in any thing that 
 is done under the sun. And, 
 
 I. The first and essential rule for holding 
 the righteous in an endeared remembrance is 
 carefully to review their character and worth 
 from time to time. I can easily suppose oc- 
 casions on which it is not at all necessary to 
 desire men to dwell on the history and worth 
 of their valuable deceased friends. Are they 
 taken from them at a time when they did not 
 look for so fatal an event, but on the contrary 
 were reckoning on the continuance of their 
 
SERMON XI 213 
 
 protecting presence; when, too, men are pla- 
 ced in circumstances wherein they formerly 
 experienced, and now much need the wise 
 counsel and effectual help of their friends ; 
 on such occasions their thoughts are full of 
 them, and their tongue is the pen of a ready 
 writer in uttering lamentations, and in offer- 
 ing liberal tributes of praise. By and by, 
 however, we find them greatly changed ; bu- 
 siness and pleasure occupy the mind and en- 
 gross the heart. We then have as much rea- 
 son to blame their forgetfulness as formerly 
 we regretted the danger of their being over- 
 whelmed by sorrow. That such charges may 
 not be brought against us, that the endeared 
 remembrance of the righteous with all its hap- 
 py effects may be preserved, we ought to re- 
 view their history and dwell on their worth 
 on particular occasions. The following sea- 
 sons are highly natural and proper for this 
 purpose. We ought to remember the righte- 
 ous with affection, and talk of them with ho- 
 nour, when similar characters claim our re- 
 gard ; when we know or hear of the same 
 loss sustained by others as we experienced by 
 the death of our dear friends ; when circum- 
 stances similar to those which distinguished 
 
^il4 SERMON XI. 
 
 dieir worth occur ; when the celebrating of 
 their praise promises to have happy effects 
 on those around us ; when by doing justice 
 to their character, we silence aspersions and 
 confound the malicious and the wicked. On 
 such occasions as these it will be highly use- 
 ful to meditate on the worth, and to publish 
 the honours of the righteous. 
 
 2. We effectually cherish the memory of 
 good men, by introducing them and their 
 worth into our acts of devotion. The great 
 advantages derived from the company and 
 advice, the assistance and example of good 
 men, are not the only blessings we are in dan- 
 ger of overlooking and not duly prizing be- 
 cause they are not connected with the thoughts 
 of God and the exercises of piety. If v/e re- 
 flected more on our dependence on God, and 
 his goodness in bestowing and preserving our 
 enjoyments, we would value them more high- 
 ly. By carrying them in our minds when we 
 appear before God, and by blessing God for 
 them, their worth is enhanced, our gratitude 
 is heightened and perfected. And have we 
 not to remark, in particular, that the devout 
 sentiments we feel and express to the giver of 
 every good and perfect gift, for blessing u.^ 
 
SERMON XL 215 
 
 with the knowledge and the friendship of the 
 righteous, will revive and heighten our value 
 for them ; for those excellent persons whose 
 highest and dearest object it was to bring us 
 by good advice, good example, good educa- 
 tion, and numberless endearing good offices, 
 to the knowledge of the Father and of the 
 Son, whom to know is life eternal. 
 
 3. We ought to preserve an honourable re- 
 membrance of the righteous by imitating that 
 worth and excellence which we admire and 
 commend. It is in this manner only that our 
 praise is proved to be sincere. It is thus we 
 profit most by their excellencies. It is thus we 
 will most eftectually preserve their endeared 
 remembrance and perpetuate the power of 
 their example. Let us then be imitators of 
 them, as they were of Christ. Let us beware 
 lest, in commending them, we be not found 
 condemning ourselves. 
 
 There are marks of respect and of grateful 
 remembrance, which in certain circumstances 
 may be decent and proper, and useful, but 
 which may be given and perhaps have often 
 been given by custom, by ostentation, by self- 
 ishness and not by affection. Sincere regard 
 cannot be expressed by every one in pompous 
 
^16 15ERMON XI. 
 
 monuments and the parade of mourning. 
 Imitation of worth is in the power of all, and 
 close imitation is the highest testimony of the 
 most unfeigned affection and respect. Be 
 then, my brethren, what the righteous were. 
 Have they fallen who stood in the first ranks, 
 supporting manfully and successfully the 
 cause of religion, fighting the battles of the 
 Lord, of order, of truth, of worth, of happi- 
 ness ! Fill ye up the breach ; repair ye the 
 loss ; complete ye the ranks ; raise ye their 
 weapons ; shew their skill ; maintain their 
 advantages ; quit ye like men, and be strong. 
 
 4. Last of all, it will have the happiest ef- 
 i^ct on your preserving the endeared memo- 
 ry of the righteous, to meditate on the hon- 
 ours conferred on them and awaiting them 
 from heaven in this world, and in that which 
 is to come. 
 
 Whoever is truly righteous is highly hon- 
 oured of God, whether the world believe it 
 and perceive it or not. They bear his image ; 
 they enjoy his favour ; they belong to his fa- 
 mily ; they are united to all the great and the 
 good, and the venerable in heaven and on 
 earth. Has not the Lord, the Judge of all, 
 often distinguished his righteous servants, and 
 
SERMON XI. 2l7 
 
 caused men to take knowledge of the objects 
 of his favour and approbation ? He has rai- 
 sed them on high ; he has enrolled their 
 names in the hsts of glory. See in what stri- 
 king instances, on how many memorable oc- 
 casions, providence has marked them for the 
 care and charge of heaven. See his light 
 shining on their tabernacle; see his interposi- 
 tions in their behalf, in rescuing them from 
 impending ruin, in bestowing unexpected 
 blessings, in overruling and controlling what 
 is formidable and hostile and from which no 
 way of escape seemed possible, in bringing 
 good out of evil, and causing the malice and 
 machinations of enemies to produce more good 
 than the wisdom and exertions of friends. In 
 such dispensations we are made to say, verily, 
 there is a God that rules the world, that loves 
 and honours the righteous. 
 
 ** Him that honoureth me, saith the Lord, 
 *' I will honour/* History, experience, and 
 observation bear witness to the faithfulness of 
 God in every age. Through life favour has 
 distinguished the righteous, the light of God's 
 countenance has been lifted upon them. 
 Sometimes also in a conspicious manner the 
 
 VOL. II. F f 
 
^18 SERMON Xr. 
 
 Lord favours and distinguishes his servants at 
 their departure out of this world. By length of 
 days, by a sound constitution, by vigorous fac- 
 ulties, by increasing usefulness, by heightened 
 enjoyment, by the fruit of their labours, by 
 more abundant respect and honour, by sere- 
 nity of mind, by confidence in God, by the 
 unclouded prospect of glory, honour and im- 
 mortality have the righteous, in the end of life, 
 been honoured of the Lord. And ought not 
 we to preserve their memory with honour? 
 
 It is always true that the death of the saint 
 is dear to the Lord. On all the excellent of 
 the earth, however, the same tokens of the fa- 
 vour of heaven are not conferred, in the even- 
 hig or at the close of life. The sun sometimesr 
 leaves the horizon in an unclouded sky with 
 all nature serene and beautiful; at other times 
 he sets obscured in clouds. But it is the same 
 glorious luminary, whose brightness no clouds 
 can sully, and who disappears to rise again in 
 renewed splendour. 
 
 If we believe and meditate on the glory that 
 shall be revealed, if we place before our eyes 
 the descending judge, the assembled world;> 
 the publick, unfading and eternal honours of 
 the righteous, their depression and obscurity 
 
SERMON XL ^19 
 
 will not only be as nothing, but will rather add 
 to their celebrity and glory. If such be the 
 heritage of them who seek God, can we but 
 be constrained to honour them whom God 
 delighteth to honour, and whom he will hold 
 in everlasting remembrance? 
 
220 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 On the caution necessary to he observed in our 
 censure of others. 
 
 Matthew, Chap. 7, Verse 1. 
 " Judge not, that ye be not judged." 
 
 Though the opinion of the world is by no 
 means an infallible test of character, yet it is 
 not without reason that we set a high value on 
 reputation. Though the approbation of our 
 own conscience is the surest reward of virtue, 
 yet an indifference to reputation is not the at- 
 tendant of a mind most desirous to be satisfied 
 with itself. It is the attainment of those only 
 who have completely thrown away a good 
 opinion of themselves and have nothing to 
 lose. To every person then, who has a just 
 sensibility to reputation, it will appear a mat- 
 ter of the greatest importance, to establish a rule 
 to regulate the judgments which men form 
 
SERMON Xir. 0^21 
 
 of one another, and to prevent those errours 
 into which they are Hahle to fall. This rule 
 our Saviour has laid down in the words of the 
 text; which forbids us rashly to form an unfa- 
 vourable judgment of others. For though the 
 precept is expressed in general terms, and lite* 
 rally taken would prevent us forming any opin- 
 ion of others, whether favourable or otherwise, 
 yet so seldom do mankind err on the favoura- 
 ble side, and so little harm arises from so do- 
 ing, that we can never interpret the precept as 
 in any respect directed against it. Besides 
 the intercourse and connections of society give 
 us an unavoidable interest in the character of 
 others. Were we to become indifferent spec- 
 tators of their conduct human life would stand 
 still. But this is impossible. We will love 
 those only who are deserving — we will trust 
 those only who are honest — we will believe 
 those only who have never deceived us. Ev- 
 ery action of a man is influenced by the opin- 
 on he entertains of his neighbours ; and in 
 this sense by abstainmg from judging them 
 we must cease to have any intercourse with 
 the world. The spirit of our Saviour's exhor- 
 tation, then, is not to abstain wholly from 
 judging others, but that in forming our opin- 
 ions we should be charitable and think no evil. 
 
m9. SERMON XII. 
 
 Neither does this precept require us, in for- 
 ming our judgment, always to think well of 
 our neighbours. Shall we overstep those lim- 
 its which separate right and wrong ? If a man 
 appear in open day, clothed with his vices, 
 shall we suppose that virtue may wear such a 
 garb ? If he lakes the name of God in vain, 
 shall we not call him profane? If he be intem- 
 perate, shall we shut our eyes until we find 
 an interval of sobriety and call him sober? If 
 he ruin the innocent, if he defraud those who 
 trust in him, if he oppress those who depend 
 on him, and repulse with harshness the peti- 
 tion of the poor, shall we not call him cruel, 
 xmjust, insolent and worthless ? 
 
 There is room enough for charity, without 
 extending it to vice ; and our characters will 
 have but a poor title to indulgence if we have 
 no other than that we ourselves spare those 
 who openly violate the laws of morality and 
 good order. This precept was intended to pro- 
 mote peace among men, but not by reconci- 
 ling right and wrong, by destroying the only 
 foundation on which peace can be established. 
 Wo unto them who call evil good, and good 
 evil ; wo unto them who would separate in- 
 famy from vice — who smile at crimes, and 
 hold forth their right hand to wickedness. 
 
SERMON Xn. 22^ 
 
 The tendency of this precept then is to pre- 
 vent us from judging others in circumstances 
 where we are not competent to judge; and to 
 prevent us from judging unfavourably, unless 
 we have clear and decided reasons for so doing. 
 And how many considerations occur to en- 
 force this precept, ''Judge not, lest ye be jud- 
 ged." 
 
 1 . Consider the influence of men's own pas- 
 sions and feelings in preventing the judgments 
 they form of others. Were we to turn our eyes 
 to the darkest side of the picture which these 
 present we should perceive envy, jealousy, re- 
 sentment and party-spirit holding their noctur- 
 nal assemblies to sacrifice to malice and false- 
 hood the devoted characters of whomsoever 
 they meet. Who shall pass without danger 
 from the venom which they scatter, and who 
 knows the paths where invisble fiends haunt? 
 What shield can defend from the secret attacks 
 of an unseen foe ? While you wish thai you 
 yourselves may escape therh, beware lest you 
 be accessary to the mischief which they work. 
 They watch your steps ; they place a dagger 
 in your way, and filling you with false cla- 
 mours they urge you to throw it at the inno- 
 cent. Take not up the secret hints they drop; 
 
nk SERMON XII. 
 
 listen not to their insinuations — shut your eyes 
 to their signs and your ears to their whispers. 
 
 Next to these appear the ill-natured, the pe-^ 
 vish and the illiberal. At their tribunal tem- 
 per sits as judge, and a word, a look will con- 
 demn you. If a defect or an ofience appear, 
 to that their eyes are turned ; or if your mer- 
 its are regarded, it is with a frown that they 
 should be found in such company. If you 
 wish to escape their censure, you must think 
 as they think, you must speak as they speak, 
 you must look grave when they look grave. 
 Their minds resemble those barren and inhos- 
 pitable regions, overhung with a perpetual 
 gloom where no beauty or verdure appears, 
 where the sun never sheds his enlivening 
 beams. 
 
 But passing from these more flagrant breach- 
 es of candour and Christian charity which 
 thinketh no evil, we may sufficiently perceive 
 the influence of passion over the opinions of 
 mankind, in the common affairs of life, and 
 in characters who cannot justly be accused of 
 malice, falsehood and illiberality. How 
 much are men disposed to represent the char- 
 acter of another in that light in which they 
 wish to view it ? On one occasion,, they con- 
 
SERMON XII. 225 
 
 jecture circumstances which they have not 
 seen, and which change a good action into a 
 bad one. On another, when an action ap- 
 pears at first sight improper, they catch at 
 what they see, and save themselves the trouble 
 of conjecture. When first appearances are 
 unfavourable, from these they, hastily, draw 
 their picture, giving it, from their own ima- 
 gination, colours so strong that nothing else 
 can be seen through them. When first ap- 
 pearances on the contrary are too favourable, 
 they search around, and, by a perverse in- 
 genuity, introduce into the back ground of 
 their picture such unpleasing objects as spoil 
 the beauty of what is better seen, and give to 
 the whole that disagreeable aspect they desire 
 it should wear. In this way there is no vir- 
 tue, there is no grace nor accomplishments 
 which a mind disordered by selfish feelings 
 will not divest of its true form, and represent 
 in a shape which may displease. If a man 
 be open and liberal, to such a mind lie seems 
 ostentatious, and to court popularity. If he 
 be sober, he appears unsocial ; if he be wiser 
 and more learned than they, he is assuming 
 and vain. To such a mind, justice w^ears 
 the form of harsh severity, and gentleness 
 
 VOL. II. G g 
 
^26 SERMON XII. 
 
 seems to be a want of spirit ; prudence is trans* 
 formed into cunning or timid caution ; lib- 
 erality appears to be profusion, and the mosS 
 necessary economy is represented as penury. 
 When, therefore, my brethren, you judge 
 your neighbour, examine your own hearts. 
 Even in the mind of those who wish not to be 
 unjust, who are not without candour, injurious 
 prejudices arise. When you find fault with an- 
 other, beware that no interference of interest, 
 or rivalship in your pursuits, no difference of 
 opinion, and no feeling of resentment may 
 have produced, without your perceiving it, a 
 desire to find fault. W^ould you wish to enter- 
 tain a better opinion of him whom you blame ? 
 Is it with reluctance that you perceive his 
 faults? Put these questions to your own hearts, 
 and answer them sincerely. If it give you a 
 secret pleasure to censure, and if you would 
 be disappointed in finding your censures 
 groundless, distrust yourselves. Though these 
 feelings were not improper in themselves, 
 there is little doubt but they mislead you. 
 Receive not then a sentiment you have so 
 much reason to suspect, express it not to 
 others, let it not influence your conduct. 
 Banish the feelings from which it flowed. If 
 
SERMON XII. 227 
 
 you regard vvliat is fair and what is just, pro- 
 ceed not to pass sentence of condemnation, 
 while you hold in your hand a bribe to con- 
 demn. 
 
 2. These sources of errour in judging our 
 neighbour, lie within our own breast. There 
 are others which lie without us of no less influ- 
 ence ; without attention to which the most im- 
 partial and candid will become unjust. 
 
 The laws of morality are fixed and immu- 
 table ; but the situations, the constitutions, 
 the temper, the education, and the pursuits of 
 men are infinitely various. Hence arises a 
 variety of character and a diversity of con- 
 duct among those who have the same rules to 
 guide them. The same things become not 
 the young and the old, the serious and the gay, 
 the rich and the poor. The man who has 
 had few opportunities of acquiring knowledge 
 cannot act with the skill and success of expe- 
 rience. If we confound these characters, and 
 judge them by a common law, how vague 
 and unjust will be ourjudgment ? Butin how 
 few instances are we qualified to discern the 
 true effect of circumstances like these, and 
 the various complexions which their differ- 
 ent combinations may give to the same con- 
 
228 SERMON XII. 
 
 duct? Farther, on how many circumstances 
 does the degree of merit or criminahty of a 
 single action depend ? We are not merely to 
 inquire what an action is, and then say it is 
 right or wrong. We must hkewise examine 
 the principle and motives from which it flow- 
 ed, the difficulties and dangers to be encoun- 
 tered, the temptations to be resisted, and the 
 rewards to be gained. These are circumstan- 
 ces often concealed from every eye but the 
 eye of God, and a man's own conscience. 
 But when they are not known, is it a stretch 
 of good nature and indulgence, is it a hard 
 restraint on the freedom of opinion, to forbear 
 to condemn ? Or rather do not the soundest 
 and plainest principles of justice require us to 
 forbear ? The history of the world presents 
 many affecting instances of the reproach, suf- 
 ferings and misfortunes which the most virtu- 
 ous characters have endured from that propen- 
 sity which the greatest part of mankind have to 
 judge by appearances or events, while it has 
 often remained for a future generation to dis- 
 cover and do justice to their integrity. To 
 these,however, we need not recur. The recol- 
 lection of every man will furnish him with a 
 sufficient number of instances, in his own case 
 
SERMON XII. 229 
 
 at least, in which his conduct was misunder- 
 stood, and in which he will not refuse to own 
 that men were rash in blaming him. Be not 
 guilty of an injustice towards others to which 
 you are so much exposed, and of which you 
 are so ready to complain. Even when the cen- 
 sures you pass on your neighbours happen to 
 be just, yet when they are not warranted by 
 your knowledge of his situation and conduct, 
 your rashness is no less criminal. But if 
 they are unjust, you are guilty of an injury 
 which receives its greatest aggravation from 
 that ignorance which in other cases may be 
 an excuse for him who offends. 
 
 3. Hitherto I have chiefly considered the 
 precept in the text as intended to prevent us 
 from blaming those who may not be deserving 
 of blame. But it goes farther than this, and 
 even where the most charitable indulgence 
 cannot make us blind to the faults of another, 
 it bids us judge them as becomes those who are 
 themselves conscious of errours and imperfec- 
 tions. Nor is it in this case founded on prin- 
 ciples less just. Even when you are guilty 
 of a folly which you are not disposed to ex- 
 cuse, would you bear to be upbraided and con- 
 demned by him who had an equal share in 
 
230 SERMON XII. 
 
 your folly, while his censures fell on yo^ 
 alone ? And does it alter the case that your 
 faults are not the same with those you per- 
 ceive in your neighbour ? Heaven alone 
 knows whose scale preponderates. You may 
 treat with severity the faults of others, while 
 you spare your own, but will this partiality ex- 
 lend beyond your own breasts ? Will God or 
 man judge you by other laws than those 
 which bind all ? Under the most proper sense 
 of those errours into which a man falls from 
 the imperfections of human nature, he feels 
 himself entitled to indulgence from those who 
 are subject to similar failings. He alone de- 
 prives himself of this title who allows it not 
 to another. If you have any delight in expo- 
 sing offences, it may not be difficult to disco- 
 ver and to drag forth an off'ender ; but let him 
 who is without sin among you throw the 
 first stone. 
 
 After all, let us beware of applying this 
 principle of charity to an improper use. 
 While you expect the charity of your breth- 
 ren with regard to those deviations from your 
 duty which are past, into which you were 
 led against your will, and wdiich you are de- 
 sirous for the future to avoid, you expect what 
 
SERMON XIL 231 
 
 religion requires them to grant. But if you 
 claim their indulgence to evil habits, which 
 you wish not to forsake, promising in return a 
 similar indulgence to them, you abuse our 
 Saviour's precept, and convert it into a tolera- 
 tion for sin, placing charity, that virtue which 
 most distinguishes our religion, on this founda- 
 tion, that he who leaves the greatest number 
 behind him in the commission of wickedness 
 ought to possess it in the most extensive degree. 
 A truly good man will not be partial to a bad 
 action because he himself has committed it, 
 nor will he by claming such partiality from 
 others lay himself under an obligation to ap- 
 prove what is wrong in them. The object of 
 charity is to prevent us from makmg the im- 
 perfections of our brethren a reason for refusing 
 to do them good ; but it is not possible to do 
 them a greater injury than to encourage them 
 in sin. 
 
 4. Another consideration of great weight to 
 enforce the precept in the text, is that stated by 
 our Saviour: *' Judge not, that ye be not 
 ** judged, for with what judgment ye judge 
 '* ye shall be judged." And there cannot be 
 a more just law either in the sight of God or 
 man. With regard to man, the experience gf 
 
^32 SERMON XII. 
 
 the world has established it as a maxim, tha^ 
 when one is rash in finding fault and, with- 
 out sufficient knowledge of the character and 
 actions he pretends tojudge, is prone to sup- 
 pose evil where there is room for supposing 
 good; when from doubtful appearances he al- 
 ways forms that opinion which is most unfa- 
 vourable, whence are we to think that this 
 propensity arises? The innocent, the sincere, 
 and the upright are not apt to suspect. 1 hey 
 often find their own conduct attended by im- 
 prudence or followed by ill consequences of 
 which they were not aware ; and neither from 
 appearances norconsequences do they perceive 
 just ground of thinking illof those to whom the 
 same thing may have happened. The secret of 
 those who possess so much ingenuity in finding 
 out the faults of others lies within their own 
 breast. But experience has discovered it, and 
 when we meet with such persons we transfer 
 their suspicions and their ill-natured remarks on 
 others to their own character. Who are most 
 ready to take offence if it be not those who 
 are most ready to give it? Who are they who 
 prey on the reputation of their neighbour, but 
 those who have lost their own? Who are the 
 suspicious, but those who have secrets in their 
 
SERMON Xri. 233 
 
 dwn conduct? Who are the malicious and the 
 envious, who detract from the merit of others* 
 but those who have not merit enough to procure 
 the success which excites their resentment? 
 Such is the natural connection between a man's 
 own character and the opinion he is disposed 
 to form of others. The good alone ; conscious 
 of their own integrity, have the true principle 
 of candour in their breast. Prudence therefore 
 enjoins that we should not be rash in forming 
 unfavourable opinions of others ; for in so do- 
 ing we condemn ourselves, or enable others 
 to detect our wickedness. 
 
 With regard to God, the consideration which 
 we are now illustrating is much more power* 
 ful. The person who judges, and he who is 
 judged are both equally seen by him. He 
 needs not to look for our character and our 
 deeds in the opinions we form of others. He 
 is our witness; and whatever we may do to 
 our brethren, he will impute to us no crimes 
 of which we have not been guilty. But for 
 our want of charity, for our hard suspicions, 
 and our severe censures, he will judge us on 
 their own account. And with w^hat peculiar 
 aggravations will they appear in the sight of 
 that being to whom tlie most secret faults of 
 
 VOL. TT, H h 
 
234 SERMON XII. 
 
 our own hearts lie open ? Ye who judge your 
 neighbours, Hft up your eyes to your common 
 judge, beholding the secrets of your own soul. 
 Turn them inwards on yourselves. With the 
 impressions which you now feel, stand up, 
 call your neighbour before your tribunal, put 
 on your dignity, your penetration, and your 
 severity, and say unto him, **Thou sinful man, 
 '^ thou offender of God, I condemn thee;** 
 heaven frowns at your presumption, and your 
 own crimes assume a deeper dye. 
 
 When God shall judge us all, folly will 
 weigh less against usinthescale than 111-willand 
 resentment; imprudence will not prove so hea- 
 vy as calumny; nor will the frailties of huma- 
 nity appear so criminal as that evil imagination 
 which delighted to magnify them. And what 
 shall the uncharitable man answer if God 
 should say to him in the final settlement of cha- 
 racters and rewards, '^Thou didst look with a 
 *' severe eye on the faults of thy brother; shall 
 " I pass over thine, or shall thy unkindness 
 '* lessen them? Thou didst impute to him of- 
 '* fences which he meant not and committed 
 " not: shall I overlook those which I saw, and 
 '* of which thou thyself art conscious. Thyun- 
 ** just and harsh censures made the innocent 
 
SERMON XII. o^ 
 
 *^ to suffer pain ; what shall be done to thee, 
 *' ihou false tongue? With what judgment 
 '* thou didst judge, shall I not judge thee; 
 " and with what measure thou didst mete, 
 ^' shall it not be meted to thee again ?*' 
 
 5 . I shall only add one other motive to deter 
 us from judging our neighbour; addressed not 
 so much to the malicious and uncharitable, as 
 to the generous and well-meanmg who form 
 unfavourable opinions of others chiefly from 
 rashness and inattention. When you lift up your 
 voice against another without sufficient know- 
 ledge of his conduct, even when appearances 
 may give some countenance to your reprehen- 
 sions, it is not improbable they may be ground- 
 less. Of what wrongs may you not thus be- 
 come the authour; agamst which the person 
 you injure, will be less prepared to guard, 
 the more innocent he is? To him who wishes 
 to deserve the good opinion of the world, you 
 may thus occasion the most discouraging of all 
 mortifications. Of every advantage which de- 
 pends on a good name, you may deprive him. 
 You may be thus led to treat with unkindness 
 those who merit favour. You may throw ob- 
 stacles in the way of the most deserving and 
 hurt the most tender feelings of a good man's 
 heart. 
 
236 SERMON XH. 
 
 To prevent you from following the practice 
 of such evil, in addition to the other conside- 
 rations already stated, we may observe, that, 
 he alone is entitled to sport thus at random 
 with the character of others, who would him- 
 self feel no pain from any injuries his own 
 might receive ; who could behold with indif- 
 ference the suffering and distress which he 
 occasioned; and whose condemnation could 
 not be aggravated by being judged as he 
 judged his neighbour. If this be a character 
 which you justly abhor, and the imputation 
 of which you would reject with indignation — - 
 ihei) judge not, that ye be not judged. 
 
257 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 On the divine origin of the Christian religion. 
 
 Acts, Chap. 5, Verse 38, 39. 
 
 ^ Refrain from these men, and let them alone ; for if this 
 eouncil, or this work be of men, it will come to nought. 
 But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it j lest haply y^ 
 be found even to fight against God." 
 
 This was the sage advice of Gamaliel, a doc- 
 tor of the law, and a man of great reputation, 
 to the Jewish council, who were assembled to 
 concert measures for suppressing the new re- 
 ligion then beginning to be preached by the 
 Apostles. The object of this advice is to dis- 
 suade the Jews from doing any thing to in- 
 jure the Apostles or to suppress the publica- 
 tion of their opinions. For if that system 
 which they taught with so much boldness 
 and diligence was merely an imposition^evi- 
 
ci^S SERMON XIII. 
 
 sed by themselves, and calculated to answer 
 worldly purposes, it would, like some other 
 pretended revelations which Gamaliel men- 
 tions, be discovered, and, without any effort 
 on the part of the Jews, would sink and come 
 to nought. On the other hand, if it really 
 was, what its friends pretended, a scheme of 
 religion derived from God, containing suffi- 
 cient evidence of its divine origin, and suppor- 
 ted by the power of the Almighty, it was vain 
 for them to oppose it ; in spite of all their ef- 
 forts it would prevail, and they would only add 
 to their own guilt by plotting against the Lord 
 and his anointed. The natural inference 
 from which is, that, if it did succeed it was 
 not of man but of God ; and thus the success 
 of the gospel, and even its very existence in 
 the world, is an irrefragable evidence of its 
 truth. 
 
 It must be confessed, that, success, abstract- 
 ly speaking, is no certain proof of the excel- 
 lence of any opinion. Errour and wicked- 
 ness have been more prevalent, and have met 
 with a more welcome reception, than even 
 Jiruth and virtue. Neither is the rapid and 
 extensive propagation of a religion, in itself, 
 a decisive proof of the divinity of its origin. 
 
SERMON XIII. 239 
 
 The Mahometan foith was as widely and in- 
 stantaneously spread through the world as 
 the Christian; and even to this day occupies a 
 larger and more populous portion of the earth. 
 But all we can infer from this is, that the 
 means were adequate to the end ; the cause 
 sufficient to produce the effect. And in the 
 instance mentioned this sufficiency is very 
 apparent. While Mahomet displayed the 
 Koran in one hand he held the sword in the 
 other ; and it is no wonder that a religion sup- 
 ported by such powerful arguments should 
 meet with success. The vices which it al- 
 lowed, and the sensual paradise which it pro^ 
 mised to its votaries were well calculated to 
 gain the approbation of an effeminate and lux- 
 urious people. The period of its introduction, 
 was distinguished by the immoral lives and in- 
 ternal divisions of the Christians. Its propa- 
 gators were learned as well as brave, and re- 
 commended by their talents what they defend- 
 ed by their swords. In short the rejection of 
 the Koran would have been more wonderful 
 than its general reception. 
 
 But m the case of Christianity, success is a 
 sufficient proof of its authenticity ; for no ex- 
 ternal causes did exist adequate to the effect. 
 
240 SERMON XIIL 
 
 In the most enlightened and inquisitive age in 
 which the human race had yet been found to 
 exist, twelve poor, simple, and illiterate fisher- 
 men issue forth from the land of Judea, at 
 that time an inconsiderable province of the 
 Roman empire, to teach a new system of re- 
 ligion, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth ; a 
 man of obscure rank and station in life, whom 
 his own countrymen had taken as a criminal 
 and hanged on a tree ; to teach a religion 
 which had to combat the interest of priests 
 and rulers, the science of the wise and learned 
 the deep-rooted prejudices and immoral lives 
 of the vulgar ; a religion whose rewards were 
 confined to another state of being, and offered 
 nothing at present to its disciples, but dangers 
 and persecution. And yet so mightily did the 
 word of God grow and prevail, that this reli- 
 gion, without friends, without force, without 
 fraud, had in less than half a century ranked 
 among its proselytes the greater part of the im- 
 mense empire of Rome, and was moreover 
 known where the name of Rome had been 
 never heard, where the day of science and 
 civilization had never dawned, among na- 
 tions of discordant tongues, governments and 
 religions. In all this there is evidently some- 
 
SERMON Xlir. 24) 
 
 thing more than human. The only inference 
 we can draw is, either, that, the religion of 
 Jesus is in itself so excellent and supported by 
 such indisputable evidence as to conquer by 
 the force of truth, or that it was protected and 
 carried forward by the invisible aids of the 
 Holy Spirit, and over-ruling providence of its 
 great authour, whose character authorizes us 
 to infer that he will not countenance and sup- 
 port an imposture. 
 
 All this appears to be naturally inferred from 
 the words of the text, but to prove and illus- 
 trate this point more fully, the following ob- 
 servations will contribute ; which though 
 some may deem unnecessary, because most of 
 you entertain no doubt of the truth of your 
 religion, will at least have these good effects. 
 By impressing the truth of your religion more 
 deeply on your minds, they will lead you 
 the more to reverence its doctrines and pre- 
 cepts. It will console every man to know 
 that the religion whereon the foundation of 
 all his hopes is built is not a cunningly devi- 
 sed fable which the prejudices of custom and 
 education have taught him to receive and re- 
 vere, but may be defended by reasoning and 
 argument, and is indeed the wisdom and tjie 
 
 VOL, IT. J i 
 
242 SERMON XIII. 
 
 power of God. In short, it will prove an an- 
 tidote to that poisonous system of infidelity 
 and atheism, which some men in all ages 
 have endeavoured to spread by argument and 
 ridicule, but which in the present age is pro- 
 pagated by much more forcible weapons, 
 those too of a carnal nature*. 
 
 First, then, when the gospel was proposed 
 to mankind, they were not without religion, 
 as was the case when the different forms of 
 the heathen system were introduced. I 
 mention this to shew that the ready reception 
 which Christianity met with in all countries, 
 did not proceed from its being the first religion 
 offered to the world ; so that the passion for 
 religion natural to the human mind, having 
 no other object, led men to adopt this form in 
 place of a better, and almost without examin- 
 ation. In every country, there was already a 
 religion established by law, patronised by the 
 rulers, and practised by the people. And 
 what was still more unfavourable to the pro- 
 gress of Christianity, the heathen religions 
 were in most places excellently adapted to the 
 taste of the vulgar, by the magnificence of 
 their temples, and the splendour of their cere- 
 
 • * Macknight's Harmony. 
 
SERMON XIII. U^ 
 
 monies. The Jewish rehgion possessed the 
 same advantages; and, besides this, really en- 
 joyed the honour which all the rest falsely 
 claimed, of being a revelation from heaven. 
 Moreover in heathenism there was nothing 
 which could have the least influence to pre- 
 pare the minds of its votaries for the recep- 
 tion of the gospel ; but rather every thing to 
 ahenate them from it. For it is well known 
 that there was the most direct opposition be- 
 tween all the different forms of the heathen 
 religion and the gospel. Judaism indeed 
 ought to have paved the way for the introduc- 
 tion of Christianity, for which it was intended 
 as a preparatory dispensation, but, through 
 the wickedness of the Jews, it proved other- 
 wise. For the decendants of Abraham, being 
 prepossessed with the belief of the eternal 
 obligation of the Mosaick institutions, were fil- 
 led with violent enmity to the gospel, which 
 taught the abrogation of the law. It is evident, 
 therefore, from the nature of things that the 
 introduction of the gospel upon the ruins of 
 the established religion, must in all countries 
 have been effected in opposition to the sword 
 of the magistrate, the craft of priests, the pride 
 of philosophers, the passions, humours and 
 
244 SERMON XIII. 
 
 prejudices of the people, as well as the inter- 
 est of many of them whose trades and profes- 
 sions, like the goldsmiths at Ephesus, depended 
 upon the continuance of the ancient supersti- 
 tion, all closely combined in support of the 
 national worship, and in opposition to that new 
 system which aimed at nothing less than the 
 total subversion of the old. 
 
 It farther deserves attention, that, in the con- 
 version of the world to Christianity, the me- 
 thods whereby absurd systems have sometimes 
 been successfully established, were not used. 
 For the life and doctrines of Christ was not a 
 story privately whispered among the Christians 
 themselves, or communicated only to the few 
 who were disposed to be of their party. It 
 was not propagated in the dark, by people who 
 stole about from house to house, with an inten- 
 tion to deceive the credulous. It was not de- 
 livered out by parcels, the first of which being 
 tolerable palatable, paved the way for one 
 more absurd and extravagant to follow. It did 
 not insinuate itself into the belief of mankind 
 by slow and insensible steps. These are the 
 arts whereby the forgeries of impostors have 
 crept into the world, and systems of errour have 
 at length become to be believed, which if of- 
 
SERMON Xlir. 245 
 
 fered openly and all at once would have been 
 rejected with abhorrence as monstrous. But, 
 instead of this, the history of Jesus and the most 
 offensive doctrines of Christianity were preached 
 publicly in Jerusalem, the scene of these won- 
 derful transactions, in the synagogues, in the 
 streets, in the temple itself, and even before the 
 representatives of the Jewish nation in council 
 assembled. It was soon afterwards preached 
 in the same publick and open manner through 
 all the regions of heathenism. At the dis- 
 courses of the Apostles, and the meetings of 
 the disciples, every one who chose might be 
 present. The history and doctrines there 
 advanced were proposed in their true, native 
 colours, without any softening or disguise. 
 They were proposed, also, all at once ; at least 
 all the essential articles of the gospel, which 
 however disagreeable to the passions or preju- 
 dices of men, were delivered by the Apostles 
 with the greatest openness in every sermon. 
 As a proof of all this we may appeal to those 
 candid and undaunted discourses of St. Peter 
 and St. Paul, which are recorded in the Acts 
 of the Apostles: and with still greater evidence 
 to the publication and dispersion of the books 
 of the Evangelists, and the Epistles which 
 
i46 SERMON XIII. 
 
 contain the whole of Christianity, and were 
 offered entire in the first age of its progress to 
 the world as we now have them. It is there- 
 fore indubitable that all who anciently embra- 
 ced Christianity, had an opportunity of exam- 
 ing the whole scheme before they formed the 
 resolution of becoming the disciples of Jesus. 
 Ko one was cheated into this belief by any 
 artful dealing of the first preachers of the gos- 
 pel. 
 
 There is a third circumstance which with 
 judicious persons will render the conversion of 
 the world to Christianity a most striking proof 
 that our religion is from God, namely, that the 
 belief of the doctrine and miracles of Jesus> 
 which in so short a time became general 
 through the world, began in the country 
 whicli had been the scene of his ministry, and 
 particularly in the capital city, vvhere he had 
 been publicly tried, condemned, and put to 
 death, by the senate of Israel, as a deceiver. 
 For, on the fiftieth day after his crucifixion, 
 there were no less than three thousand con- 
 verted in Jerusalem by a single sermon of one 
 of the Apostles, who insisted upon the mira- 
 cles performed by Jesus as things well known 
 to all present, a topick which the Apostles in 
 
SERMON XIII. ^J47 
 
 every sermon failed not to urge. A few weeks 
 after this, five thousand who believed are said 
 to have been present at another sermon preach- 
 ed by the same Apostle. In the second year 
 after our Lord's ascension the number of the 
 disciples multiplied greatly, and a great com- 
 pany of the priests, who had always been the 
 most violent opposers of the new religion, be- 
 came obedient to the faith. In the third year 
 they multiplied so exceedingly that there was 
 a great persecution against the church which 
 was at Jerusalem, and they were all except 
 the Apostles scattered abroad throughout the 
 region of Judea and Samaria. In the third or 
 fourth year, the spreading of the Christian faith 
 was so remarkable, even in the remotest pro- 
 vinces of Palestine, that the high priest and 
 council of Jerusalem, in order to put a stop to 
 it, sent forth persecutors as far as Damascus. 
 Of these the leader was a zealous young man 
 named Saul, who in this very journey was 
 converted by Jesus appearing to him at noon- 
 day. About eight or ten years after our Sa- 
 viour's death, the disciples were grown so nu- 
 merous in Jerusalem and the country about, 
 that they became the object of jealousy to 
 Herod himself. For, at the instigation of the 
 
S48 SERMON XIH. 
 
 priests, he carried on the persecution against 
 them, by putting to death one Apostle, and 
 imprisoning another, whom he intended also 
 to slay. • 
 
 This wonderful success of the gospel in its 
 native country must tend greatly to convince 
 us of its divinity. For if the things therein 
 told had been false, would such numbers upon 
 the spot where they were said to be done and 
 at the very time at which they happened 
 have given such credit to them, as on their 
 account to have exposed themselves to the 
 most grievous persecution. 
 
 But the success of the gospel was by no 
 means confined to Judca. Being preached 
 in all the different provinces of the Roman 
 empire, numbers of heathens as well as Jews 
 were converted to the faith. A clear proof 
 that the Christian system was not a fabri- 
 cation by the Jews, invented with a design to 
 raise their nation to its pristine grandeur, but 
 contained such evidence of its divine origin as 
 failed not to make an impression on those to 
 whom it was proposed, of whatever nation or 
 tongue. The conversion of the gentiles is so 
 much the more remarkable that almost the 
 very first triumph of the Christian religion 
 
SERMON XIII. 249 
 
 were in Greece itself, the seat of learning and 
 the polite arts. We learn from the Acts of the 
 Apostles and St. Paul's Epistles, that churches 
 were very early planted in most of its princi- 
 pal cities. Even all -conquering Rome, the 
 seat of wealth and empire, was herself con* 
 quered by the force of truth. Many of her 
 inhabitants embraced the Christian faith, as 
 early as in the reigns of Claudius and Nero ; 
 and but a few years after the crucifixion of 
 our Lord, when the matters told concerning 
 him were recent, and it was easy to have 
 disproved them, if they had been false, by 
 many witnesses from Judea, both Jews and 
 Gentiles, who continually resorted to Rome, 
 either for business or pleasure, and by the 
 constant communication which subsisted be- 
 tween the capital, and all the provinces of the 
 empire. 
 
 This leads me to observe that the remarkable 
 success of the gospel did not happen in a dark 
 age or among a rude people, but in an age 
 justly celebrated for the height to which learn- 
 ing and the polite arts were carried ; and 
 among the Greeks and Romans, the renowned 
 masters of the sciences. In most countries, at 
 this era, knowledge was more widely diffused 
 
 VOL. II. K k 
 
UO SERMON XIII. 
 
 And society more civilized than they had been 
 at any former period. Besides, the world un- 
 der the protection of the Roman government 
 enjoying at this time profound peace, men of 
 a speculative turn were every were at leisure 
 to examine the matter with care, and as the 
 different nations of the world were now uni- 
 ted under one head, they had easy commu- 
 nication with one another and with the city of 
 Rome, the centre of intelligence and corres- 
 pondence. It is therefore undeniable, that, 
 when the gospel was first proposed, all ranks 
 of men in all countries were as well secured 
 as possible from being imposed upon by false 
 pretences of any kind, and the gospel would 
 not probably be adopted before it was duly 
 considered. 
 
 It must indeed be confessed that the first pro- 
 selytes to Christianity were not in general the 
 most enlightened and inquisitive of their age, 
 but, on the contrary, mean, simple men who had 
 more veracity and integrity than understan- 
 ding, who were more ingenuous than learned. 
 This circumstance, though at first it may seem 
 dishonourable to the Christian cause, will, upon 
 mature reflection, add greatly to the evidence 
 of its truth, Jesus himself rejoiced in it, and 
 
SERMON Xlil. 251 
 
 more than once solemnly returned thanks foi* 
 it. '' At that tune Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and 
 '' said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven 
 '* and earth, that thou hast hid these things 
 '' from the wise and prudent and revealed 
 *' them unto babes. Even so. Father, for so it 
 *' seemed good in thy sight.'' The Apostle 
 Paul gloried in the mean condition of the first 
 converts. *' You see your calling, brethren, 
 '' said he, how that not many wise men after 
 '* the flesh are called. But God has chosen 
 ** the foolish things of this world to confound 
 '' the wise, and God has chosen the weak 
 *' things of the world to confound the things 
 *' which are mighty ; and base things of the 
 *' world and things which are despised hath 
 '' God chosen, yea and things which are not 
 '' to bring to nought things which are ; that 
 '' no flesh should glory in his- presence." 
 Our Lord and his Apostles thus rejoice in the 
 conversion of the people, because they know 
 this circumstance above all others would prove 
 the truth of their doctrine. The prejudices 
 and attachment of mankind to old opinions 
 have always been found to bear a proportion 
 to their ignorance. The bulk of mankind arc 
 every where incapable of comprehending a 
 
252 SERMON XIII. 
 
 train of reasoning, and cannot easily be per- 
 suaded to change the principles in which they 
 have been educated even by the most conclu- 
 sive arguments. Since, therefore, such num- 
 bers were converted to Christianity, it could 
 not have been by artful reasoning, but by 
 some striking miracles which made a deep im- 
 pression on their senses ; and by a power 
 much more irresistible than that of cool argu- 
 ment, surmounted all the obstacles which su- 
 perstition, custom and education had thrown 
 in the way of their conversion. The same cir- 
 cumstance is a clear proof that men were not 
 compelled to adopt the religion of Jesus, by the 
 secular power; were not seduced by the influ- 
 ence and example of the great ; were not en- 
 couraged by any prospect of profit or honour 
 to enter into a society the greater part of whose 
 members were poor ignorant men, less likely 
 to be of advantage to those who might adhere 
 to them than to bring them into trouble and dis- 
 grace. ** Is not this the Carpenter's son ?'* 
 did they impiously say of the Saviour him- 
 self: '' are not these of the sect of the Naza- 
 '^ renes?'* did they contemptuously ask con- 
 cerning his followers. And most certainly no 
 siian would expose himself to the reproach 
 
SERMON XIII. Q53 
 
 brought by such association unlessthe evidence 
 of the gospel itself, or the powerful operations 
 of the Spirit of God, had produced in his mind 
 the most undoubted conviction of its truth. 
 
 But though the generality of the first con- 
 verts to Christianity in all countries were peo- 
 ple in the middle and lower stations of hfe, it 
 ought not to be forgotten that from the very 
 beginnmg there were not wanting men of birth, 
 education, talents, and fortune, whose conver- 
 sion added both lustre and dignity to the 
 gospel triumphs. Among the Jews, we may 
 mention Nicodemus, one of the rulers; Joseph 
 of Arimathea, a member of the senate of Is- 
 rael; the great company of priests mentioned 
 in the Acts of the Apostles, whose office and 
 literature rendered them conspicious ; and 
 above all the celebrated Apostle of the Gen- 
 tiles, St. Paul, whose attachment to the wor- 
 ship of his father was originally so deep-rooted, 
 and whose excellent education, extensive 
 learning, and unrivalled eloquence appear in 
 all his discourses, and are the admiration even 
 of infidels themselves. The sacred and pro- 
 fane writers supply us with a numerous cata- 
 logue of princes, magistrates and philosophers, 
 who became converts to the gospel long be- 
 
254 SERMON xrir. 
 
 fore it was the religion of the empire of Rome 
 or was supported by the arm of power. For 
 in process of time it became so that it was not 
 a single person of figure in this city, or in 
 that nation, who obeyed the gospel, but mul- 
 titiides of the wise, the learned, the noble and 
 the mighty in every country. These being 
 all fully convinced of the truth of our Lord's 
 pretensions, and deeply impressed with a 
 sense of his dignity, gave the most solid proof 
 of their conviction, and consequently of the 
 truth of Christianity, by worshipping as a God 
 one whom his countrymen had condemned as a 
 malefactor; by forsaking the religion wherein 
 they had been bred, a religion well suited to 
 their inclinations and passions, and embracing 
 one whereby they could gain neither honour 
 nor profit, but on the contrary, much suffering 
 and disgrace. In short, the religion was 
 of God, and with his aid, it could not fail to 
 make its way in the world. 
 
SERMON XIV. 
 
 PART II 
 
 On the divine origin of the Christian religion. 
 
 " Refrain from these men, and let them alone ; for if this 
 council, or this work be of men, it will come to nought. 
 But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it; lest haply ye be 
 found even to fight against God." 
 
 I FORMERLY read these words with a design 
 to impress on your minds a sense of the truth of 
 your religion, and consequently a regard for 
 the doctrines and precepts which it contains : 
 and I proposed to show, as a natural inference 
 from this advice, and I may also say predic- 
 tion of Gamaliel, that the great success of the 
 gospel in the first ages, and its existence at 
 this very day, are undoubted proofs of its di- 
 vine origin. 
 
 It is evident from the great multitude of 
 converts to Christianity in the first ages, that it 
 
9.56 SERMON XIV. 
 
 must either contain irresistible evidence of its 
 being from God, or the invisible and effectual 
 power of the Almighty must have accompanied 
 the preaching of the Apostles. No other 
 causes, at least, can be discovered sufficient 
 to produce the effect. On the contrary, every 
 thing conspired to prevent the success of the 
 gospel. The Christian religion was opposed 
 by the sword of the magistrate, the craft of 
 the priests, the pride of the philosophers, 
 and the passions and prejudices of the Jew 
 and Gentile. 
 
 This religion was not propagated in the 
 dark, nor delivered out in parcels, according 
 to the usual method in which impostures are 
 made to succeed ; but was fully laid before 
 men all at once, that they might judge of the 
 whole under one view. Mankind, then, 
 were not cheated into the belief of it, but re- 
 ceived it upon due examination and convic- 
 tion. The gospel was first preached and be- 
 lieved by multitudes in Judea, where Jesus 
 exercised his ministry, and where every indi- 
 vidual had full opportunity of knowing whe- 
 ther the thing told of him were true or not. 
 In this country, surely^ his history never would 
 have been received, unless the facts alleged 
 
SERMON XIV. 26? 
 
 In it could have stood the test of examina- 
 tion. Moreover, the rcHgion of Jesus was 
 preached and helieved in the most renowned 
 countries and cities of the world, and in an age 
 when a spirit of inquiry universally prevailed, 
 and the faculties of men were improved by 
 the most perfect state of social life. In such 
 an age as this, it would have been very impo- 
 litick for a deceiver and impostor to have made 
 his appearance. The first converts, it is true, 
 were, in general, men of middle and inferiour 
 stations ; but even these, in an age of such 
 knowledge and intercourse, were sufficiently 
 secured against false pretensions. Or if yoii 
 suppose their minds not to have been suffi- 
 ciently informed with knowledge, you should 
 consider that in proportion to their ignorance, 
 their attachment to their first religious princi- 
 ples would be strong ; and that to bring men of 
 such characters to change their principles no- 
 thing less than infinite power or evident mira- 
 cles are adequate. These were the ideas 
 which engaged our attention when I last dis- 
 coursed to you. 
 
 I now proceed to observe, what seems high- 
 ly worthy of attention, that the belief of 
 Christianity was attended with no worldly ad- 
 
 VOL. II. L 1 
 
2o8 SERMON XIV. 
 
 vantage, which might induce men to renounce 
 their native rehgions and embrace a form of 
 worship so very different from every thing 
 then practised. On the contrary, by becom- 
 ing Christians they denied themselves many 
 sensual gratifications which their own religions 
 indulged them in ; they subjected themselves 
 to a course of life rigid and severe, very dif- 
 ferent from that to which they had been ac- 
 customed, and which is so agreeable to the 
 flesh. For at their baptism, or admission into 
 the Christian society, they bound themselves 
 to renounce the w^orld with its pleasures, as a 
 sacrifice necessary in such times of persecu- 
 tion, and to mortify the strongest inclinations 
 of their nature. By renouncing the religion 
 of their country, they lost the affections of 
 their relatives, separated themselves from their 
 acquaintance, forfeited the enjoyments of 
 private and social life, estranged themselves 
 from their friends, and banished themselves 
 from their families. Nor was this all ; by em- 
 bracing the gospel, they exposed themselves 
 to still more terrible and positive evils. From 
 the very beginning, the profession of Christi- 
 anity was attended with the continual hazard 
 of all manner of personal sufferings ; and in 
 proportion as this religion spread itself, the 
 
SERMON XIY. ^59 
 
 ^vils accompanying the profession thereof 
 muhiphcd. Nor is this wonderful; if they 
 did such things to the niastcrof the household, 
 what could the servants expect? The profane 
 and ecclesiastical historians tell us of ten furious 
 persecutions carried on against the Christians 
 in the early ages of the gospel, to compel them 
 to relinquish their faith, in which they endu- 
 red every species of torture and suffering which 
 rage, cruelty and superstition could invent. 
 St» Paul has given us such a description of them 
 as must shock the feelings of every man of 
 feeling and humanity. The primitive Chris- 
 tians, instead of sitting under their own vine 
 and their own fig tree, as wc do, without any 
 to make us afraid, ** had trial of cruel mock- 
 ^' ings and scourgings, yea moreover of bonds 
 '* and imprisonment. They were stoned, they 
 *' were sawn asunder, were tempted, were 
 *' slain with the sword: they wandered about 
 *' in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being desti- 
 *' tute, afflicted, tormented. They. wandered 
 '* in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens 
 *' and caves of the earth." Powerful induce- 
 ments these to embrace a system of which they 
 were the inevitable consequence ! Nothing 
 but over-bearing evidence, evidence such as 
 
^60 SERMON XIV. 
 
 they could not by any means resist, was able to 
 make men in those circumstances receive a re- 
 ligion which plunged them into such terrible 
 misfortunes. 
 
 We may add, as connected with this part of 
 the subject,jthat the constancy, firmness and pa- 
 tience displayed by the primitive martyrs, who 
 submitted to such cruel sufferings rather than 
 renounce their religion or blasphejLne their 
 Saviour, could not be the effect of human 
 strength, but must have been produced by su- 
 pernatural aid. Without such aid, the trials 
 to which they were exposed were sufficient to 
 overbear duty, reason, faith, conviction, nay 
 and the most absolute certainty of a future 
 state. It is natural to man to wish to be deli- 
 vered from pain ; and when they could have 
 been so even by mental reservation, or any 
 hypocrisy which was not without the possibili- 
 ty of being followed by repentance and for- 
 giveness, we must conclude that those who 
 preferred the reproach of Christ, and rejoiced 
 that they were counted worthy to suflter for his 
 namesake, must have been supported by some 
 miraculous power. We know that St. Ste- 
 phen, the first martyr for Christianity, was en- 
 couraged, in his last moments, by a vision of 
 
SERMON XIV. «61 
 
 that divine person for whom he suffered, and 
 into whose presence he was then hastening. 
 Let any man lay his hand cahiily upon his 
 heart, after reading those terrible conflicts in 
 which the ancient martyrs and confessors were 
 engaged, when they passed through such new 
 inventions and varieties of pain as tired their 
 tormentors; and let him ask himself, however 
 zealous and sincere in his religion he may be, 
 whether under such acute and lingering tor- 
 tures, he could still have held fast his integri- 
 ty and have professed his faith to the last, with- 
 out supernatural assistance of some kind or 
 other ? When we consider that it was not an 
 unaccountable obstinacy in a single man, or in 
 any particular set of men, in an extraordinary 
 juncture ; but that there were multitudes of 
 every age and sex, of different countries and 
 conditions, who for near three hundred years 
 together made this glorious profession of their 
 faith in the midst of tortures and in the hour 
 death, we must conclude, that, they were 
 either of a different constitution from the pre- 
 sent race of men, or that they had miraculou- 
 support peculiar to those times of Christianity, 
 without which perhaps the very name of it 
 might have been extinguished. 
 
m SERMON XIV. 
 
 But farther, it is worthy of consideration 
 that those who became converts to the gospel 
 were not induced to do so by the force of arms, 
 the influence of authority, the refinements of 
 policy, or the power of great examples. They 
 were prevailed upon to change their faith, 
 merely by the preaching of a few illiterate 
 mechanicks or fishermen, who were wholly 
 destitute of the advantages of birth, education 
 or fortune, and who, by condemning the es- 
 tablished worship of all countries, were every 
 where looked upon as the most flagitious of 
 men. A particular stress has been laid upon 
 this argument by our Lord and his Apostles. 
 They direct us to consider the illiterate char- 
 acter and low station of the first preachers 
 of the gospel, as a proof that, in the conversion 
 of the world, they acted by the power of 
 truth, and with the assistance of God. ** We 
 ** have this treasure in earthen vessels, says St. 
 " Paul, that the excellency of the power may 
 " be of God and not of us/* But the force of 
 this argument will best appear, if we consider 
 the conversion of the work, first, simply as an 
 event implying a change of men's religious 
 principles, and secondly, as attended with a 
 thorough reformation of their mannei-s. 
 
SERMON XIV. 263 
 
 First, the conversion of the world, consider- 
 ed as a change of men's religious principles^ 
 effected merely by the power of persuasion, 
 supposes that every convert was convinced of 
 the absurdity of his former faith, and brought 
 to see that the religion now offered to him was 
 rational and well founded. But this was a 
 task too arduous for the weak instruments 
 employed ; for unless they were assisted by 
 God, they had the prodigious labour to under- 
 go oflearning the languages of all the nations, 
 whether barbarous or civilized, to which they 
 went, before they could discourse to them^ 
 either of the ancient belief, or of the new 
 faith which they came to offer to them. 
 This itself was an obstacle which must have 
 absolutely marred their design ; and therefore 
 this single consideration demonstrates, that, in 
 prevailing with multitudes in all countries to 
 change their religious belief, the Apostles 
 were inspired by God with the gift of tongues 
 as the gospel records affirm » Allowing, how- 
 ever, that by any means you please to fancy 
 these men attained the knowledge of all the 
 languages in such perfection, that they 
 could speak them fluently ; yet to mstil know- 
 ledge effectually into the minds of the people 
 
1^64 SERMON XIV. 
 
 was a werk of immense labour, requiring fre- 
 quent and particular application to each indi- 
 vidual. If so, how can we suppose twelve 
 men sufficient for the conversion of nations ! 
 Were they capable of addressing alj the in- 
 dividuals of those vast multitudes, who in the 
 diiFerent countries of Europe, Asia and Africa 
 were brought to serve the living God by their 
 ministry ? No, such particular addresses were 
 impossible ; and therefore the conversion of 
 the Gentiles could not be produced by them. 
 An event so stupendous must have been ac- 
 complished by means more effectual ; means 
 capable of swaying great numbers at once ; 
 namely undeniable miracles wrought openly 
 in proof of the doctrines which the Apostles 
 taught. Indeed the natural means of argu- 
 ment and persuasion must have been alto- 
 gether inadequate to the effect. Mankind 
 were too much attached to their religions to 
 relinquish them upon the first ofier of a new 
 faith. This was the case not only with the 
 Jews, but with all the idolatrous nations, to 
 whom the Apostles offered the doctrines of the 
 gospel. The religions in the belief of which 
 they were educated, were considered by them 
 as of divine authority. Besides, these religions 
 
SERMON XVI. 26J 
 
 conspired with their passions, were connected 
 with their Interest, and they were conlirmcd 
 in the belief ot' them by the influence oi" au- 
 thority and example. The religions of the 
 learned were nothing but the systems of philo- 
 sophy which they adopted. The peculiar 
 tenets of these systems, they adopted with 
 the same strength of faith wherewith Chris- 
 tians now-a-days embrace their several creeds 
 and confessions, and they defended them 
 with the same intemperate warmth. Here 
 then were obstacles which the Apostles 
 were, of themselves, too weak to surmount. 
 The ignorant would not attend to discourses 
 which flatly contradicted their favourite no- 
 tions, and robbed them of their pleasures : 
 the philosophers would detest a religion 
 which overturned their several systems at 
 once, discovered their ignorance, mortified 
 their pride, and ruined their credit. Certain, 
 therefore, it is that the sermons of the Apostles, 
 which made the heathens renounce their reli- 
 gion, must have been accompanied with a di- 
 vine power before which all opposition van- 
 ished. Such is the declaration of St. Paul; 
 " The weapons of our warfare are not carnal 
 *' but mighty through God to the pulling down 
 VOL. It. M m 
 
^266 SERMON XIV. 
 
 *' of strongs holds. Casting down imagina- 
 *' lions and every high thing that exalteth it- 
 *' self against the knowledge of God, and 
 '* bringing into captivity every thought to the 
 ** obedience of Christ.'* 
 
 Secondly, the conversion of the world being 
 attended with a thorough reformation of man- 
 ners in the heathens who obeyed the gospel, is 
 likewise a demonstration that in spreading 
 Christianity the Apostles were expressly assisted 
 by God. To persuade the wicked to amend 
 their lives, included many impossibilities. 
 The manners of men in those days were be- 
 yond measure corrupt. The picture which 
 the Apostle Paul has drawn of them in the 
 first chapter of his Epistle to the Romans, 
 however shocking, is but too just. The vices 
 to which they were addicted were the effects 
 of lusts and passions rendered unconquerable 
 by long habits of indulgence. In the com- 
 mission of many acts of wickedness they were 
 authorized by the laws and discipline of their 
 country. Some of the most pernicious vices 
 were permitted them by the opinion of their 
 philosophers. To persuade great numbers of 
 mankind in such circumstances, to forsake 
 their vices, that is, to act contrary to nature, to 
 
SERMON XIV. i?67 
 
 habit, to example, to interest, and to pleasure, 
 what human eloquence was sufficient? Or if 
 himian eloquence were sufficient to persuade 
 them, whence, I pray, were the converts 
 to derive tlie power of thoroughly changing, or 
 at least of subduing their passions, or of altering 
 the whole bent and current of their nature ? 
 Whence the power of becoming pious, just, 
 charitable, chaste, temperate, meek, humble, 
 heavenly-minded, amid an infinity of power- 
 ful temptations; and after having been unjust, 
 uncharitable, intemperate, proud and worldly- 
 minded to a high degree ? The heathen con- 
 verts themselves looked upon the sudden and 
 surprising change of manners, wrought on 
 thousands of the most profligate, as something 
 miraculous. By the consent, therefore, of all 
 prudent men, it were ridiculous to the last de- 
 gree, to suppose that tlie Apostles, by means 
 merely human, produced this great change in 
 the manners of multitudes, formerly enslaved 
 to their lusts, and sold under sin. 
 
 There is another fact, which, were it not 
 more immediately connected with a subject 
 foreign in some degree from this, would deserve 
 attention in the present question, namely, that 
 the wonderful success of the gospel was an 
 
268 SERMON XIV. 
 
 event predicted long before it happened, and' 
 at a time when it was of all things the most 
 improbable. 
 
 But the last observation I shall make on this 
 subject, is that our religion has subsisted during 
 the long period of almost eighteen centuries 
 in full vigour, though its enemies have stren- 
 uously attacked it both by argument and arms. 
 Many errours have been propagated in the 
 world, some in one way and some in another: 
 but after due inquiry and examination they 
 have been detected, they have come to nought 
 and their followers have disappeared. What 
 a glorious triumph for the cause of Christianity 
 which has stood the test of ages and been found 
 sufficient. In its infancy, while it enjoyed no 
 protection from the magistrate, all men where 
 allowed and even encouraged to argue against 
 it with boldness. In free countries, even 
 where Christianity is the law of the state, the 
 same liberty is allowed ; and every advantage 
 has been taken of this indulgence. For no 
 method of overthrowing the gospel has been 
 forgotten. Both argument and ridicule have 
 been employed . Its nature and evidence have 
 been sifted to the bottom. But, thanks to the 
 goodnessof the cause, it has still kept its ground, 
 and has at all times displayed a peculiar and 
 
SERMON XIV. 269 
 
 divine strength derived from its being built on 
 the rock of ages against which the gates of 
 hell shall not prevail. In a word, it is of God 
 and nothing can overthrow it. 
 
 The greatest difficulty on this subject arises 
 from that wonderful defection from the gos- 
 pel which happened after the publication of 
 Mahomet's doctrine to the world. This is in- 
 deed one of the darkest secrets of divine pro- 
 vidence. But the causes that contributed to 
 produce this great revolution are manifest. 
 They were plainly the vices and discords of 
 the Christians of those times, who thereby 
 gave the enemies of our faith courage to at- 
 tack it, put weapons into their hands, and fur- 
 nished them with every manner of advantage. 
 Christ came into the world, with the design 
 to subdue the power and destroy the 'king- 
 dom of Satan. He displayed the banner of 
 his cross, and summoned all nations to repair 
 to it; who accordingly obeyed the signal. 
 But while the extremest parts of the earth 
 were meditating a submission, while his great- 
 est enemies were hastening to put their necks 
 under his feet, a stop was put to their inten- 
 tions and his triumphs by the mutinies and 
 desertions of his own soldiers. Who can suffi- 
 
no SERMON XLV. 
 
 ciently deplore the guilt and detest the evil 
 influence of those vices v^^hich wrested so ma- 
 ny kingdoms at once from the empire of 
 Christ? They not only arrested his doctrine 
 in its full course, and said to it hitherto shalt 
 thou come and no farther, but made the sun 
 of righteousness go backward as it were ma- 
 ny degrees, and leave countries under gross 
 darkness which had once been enlightened 
 by the saving truths of the gospel. 
 
 Many princes since this period, with more 
 piety than discretion, have made attempts to 
 regain, by force of arms, that ground which 
 Christianity lost, and, by their sword to plant 
 anew their faith in those places where it once 
 had possession. Such misguided zealots seem 
 always to have forgotten the advice of our 
 Saviour to St. Peter upon a similar occasion, 
 put up thy sword into the sheath. This great 
 work is not to be accomplished by crusades 
 and holy wars, but by conflicts of another 
 kind, which we must maintain with our own 
 corrupt habits and vicious inclinations ; not 
 by foreign acquisitions, but by domestick 
 victories over those impieties of Christians, 
 which give the enemies of the gospel such 
 advantages over it. For though the kingdom 
 
SERMON XIV. ^271 
 
 of heaven suffers violence, and the violent 
 take it by force, yet the weapons of our ware- 
 fare are not carnal but spiritual. When the 
 conversations of those who bear the name of 
 Christ, become agreeable to the purity of his 
 doctrine ; when the divisions of Christendom 
 are healed, and the professors of our holy faith 
 live together like men of one mind in one 
 house, then and not till then shall the scep- 
 tre of Christ's kingdom extend itself to ail the 
 unconverted parts of the earth. 
 
 That God, ere the day of final retribution 
 will bring this about, the scripture expressly 
 assures us ; but of the particular time, at which 
 he will effect it, we know no more than when 
 he will come to judgment. However, let 
 us all, as far as lies in our power, contribute 
 to this great event and prepare the way for it. 
 Let us, in our several places and stations, do 
 our utmost to promote the kingdom of Christ 
 within us, by advancing the love and practice 
 of evangelical purity, and let us also frequent- 
 ly put up our request for the arrival of that 
 happy period when the knowledge of the 
 Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover 
 the sea, and when there shall be nothing to 
 hurt or destroy in all the holy mountain of 
 the Lord. 
 
i72 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 
 On duelling. 
 
 *' Put up again thy sword into his place ; for all they who 
 take the sword shall perish with the sword.** 
 
 The first principle in our nature is self-pre- 
 servation. To gratify this principle every ex- 
 ertion may and ought to be made, Mrhich does 
 not infringe the rights of our neighbour. To 
 repel the blow which aims at our destruc- 
 tion, even by the death of the offender, when 
 that is necessary to our safety, is lawful and 
 commendable; because we act in obedience 
 to this first of all principles, a desire of exist- 
 ence, without infringing any right of our 
 neighbour's, for surely he could never have 
 any right to take away our life. This prin- 
 ciple contemplates the perservation not merely 
 of our existence, but also of our faculties, 
 members and rights of every kind. 
 
SERMON XV. 279 
 
 In aid of this principle, and subservient to 
 it, nature has provided us with another which 
 is innocent and useful when properly regu- 
 lated. This is what we call anger or resent- 
 ment. *When we arc hurt nature disposes us 
 to resist and retaliate. Besides the pain occa^ 
 sioned by the injury, the mind is ruffled, and 
 a desire raised to retaliate upon its authour. 
 This principle is both defensive and olft nsive. 
 It prompts us not only to place ourselves 
 in a posture of defence ; but, as offensive arms 
 are often the suicst means of defence, by de- 
 terring the enemy from the assault, so resent- 
 ment leads us to go beyond ourselves and 
 strike terrour into the assailant by threatening 
 him with retaliation. Man, in his present 
 stage, is surrounded with so many objects of 
 a destructive nature, that he needs some ar- 
 mour which shall be always ready in the 
 moment of danger. Reason would be of 
 great use for this purpose where there is time 
 to apply it. But in many cases the mischief 
 would be done before reason could think of 
 the means of prevention. To supply this de- 
 fect the wisdom of nature has provided this 
 principle of resentment, which prevents mis- 
 
 * Reid's Essays, 
 VOL. II. N n 
 
274 • SERMON XV. 
 
 chief by the fear of punishment, which is a 
 kind of penal statute, promulgated by nature, 
 the execution of which is committed to the one 
 who is threatened. 
 
 ' It IS evident, however, that as it is unjust to 
 do an injury, so it is no less unjust to punish 
 it beyond measure ; for there the parties change 
 sides, and the injured become the injurious. 
 To prevent excessive resentment nature has 
 provided us with no means but the candour 
 and reflection of the injured party, and the 
 fear of a renewed resentment from the person 
 who originally did the injury. These, how- 
 ever, are very imperfect remedies. Nothing 
 can be more evident than that a man is a very 
 unlit judge in his own cause, especially when 
 inflamed by resentment and smarting under 
 injury. However clear might be our right 
 in a state of nature to redress our own wrongs, 
 yet in a state of social union, this right with 
 many others is surrendered into the hands of 
 the magistrate who is charged with the execu- 
 tion of the laws. Nor could the rights of in- 
 dividuals be more secure than when placed 
 under the protection of the united force of the 
 society, nor more impartially adjusted than 
 by indifferent and unprejudiced men. Hence 
 
SERMON XV. 275 
 
 the law considers him as guilty of a crime 
 who, of his own private act, injures another 
 even in retahation for wrongs received. For 
 if we are assisted in the maintenance and re- 
 covery of our rights by the general strength 
 of the community, it is but reasonable that 
 we should wait for publick arbitration. 
 
 And this rule is not only founded in equity, 
 but in absolute necessity. For if mdividuals 
 were permitted to indulge their resentment, 
 and to seek redress of injuries with their own 
 arm, the safety, nay the very existence of so- 
 ciety would be at an end. Resentment is a 
 passion which indulgence has a peculiar ten- 
 dency to increase. Give it the reins and it 
 becomes ungovernable. The beginning of 
 strife is as when one leiteth out water ; as coals 
 are to burning coals, or as wood to fire, so are 
 contentious men to kindle strife. No one 
 can say of resentment, hitherto shalt thou go 
 and no farther. The impetuosity of passion 
 hurries us inevitably beyond the limits we 
 prescribed to ourselves, and the flames of dis- 
 sension being kindled, the spirit of retaliation 
 yearns for mutual destruction. In this pro- 
 gress of variance and strife, the original inju- 
 ry is altogether lost sight of, the passions of 
 
276 SERMON XV. 
 
 others, who may be connections or friends Of 
 either party, draw them also into the vortex of 
 contention. Families, cities and nations are 
 placed agamst each other in hostile array> 
 and society is converted into a scene of blood- 
 shed and disorder. 
 
 It is therefore a first principle of the social 
 compact, as well as a maxim of religion, that 
 no irtdividualshould take it uponhim toavenge 
 himself. 1 he law declares vengeance is mine, 
 I will repay it. He therefore transgresses the 
 first principle of equity, who when he receives 
 an injury of whatever kind seeks redress in his 
 own person. One man injures another in his 
 property, by detaining from him a debt which 
 Is justly due. Does the injured party go and 
 seize the goods or property of the party who 
 commits the injury, and repay himself. Such 
 a proceeding every man of common sense 
 knows to be incompatible with the existence 
 oflaw^and of society. How comes it then 
 that a similar method of proceeding in the case 
 of an infringement of any other right does not 
 appear equally unjustifiable and absurd. How 
 comes it that when our honour or reputation is 
 injured, we not only omit to seek redress from 
 the fountain of justice, but even deem it pu- 
 
SERMON XV. 277 
 
 sillanimous so to do, and, in violation of the first 
 duly ot a good member of society, take satis- 
 faction ourselves by calling forth the person 
 who did the wrong to single combat. Herein 
 we act more unjustifiably than our barbarous 
 ancestors, from whom the unhappy practice 
 descends. The duel constituted a part of their 
 publick administration of justice. It was so- 
 lemny and judicially appointed by the magis- 
 trate to assist him in deciding the merits of a 
 case. We cannot sufficiently pity the igno- 
 rance and superstition which gave rise to such 
 a practice. Unacquainted however with the 
 rules of evidence, in deciding causes, and im- 
 agining that the deity would Interpose for the 
 safety of the innocent, their conduct may in 
 this point of view admit of some excuse. But 
 we, in cases where the evidence is clear, where 
 the law is ready to pronounce its sentence, 
 grossly insult the majesty of the state, usurp the 
 power of the magistrate, and defeat one of the 
 principle ends of the social union, which was 
 instituted to restrain the excess of resentment, 
 by demanding private satisfaction for injuries 
 offered to our honour. 
 
 Here indeed it may be said that there cer- 
 tainly are cases where the law of nature per- 
 mits a person to redress his own wrongs without 
 
<278 SERMON XV. 
 
 waiting for the decision of the judge. But 
 what are those cases ? Those in which no ap- 
 peal to the law is possible, as in desert islands, 
 where no society exists ; those cases in which 
 to wait for the protection of the law would be 
 attended with infinite and irretreivable ruin, as 
 when our life is assaulted and endangered. 
 Here as the law cannot furnish a man with a 
 perpetual guard, nor the magistrate be pre- 
 sent to protect the person of every individ- 
 ual in the community, the law allows him to 
 redress his own wrong, and to defend him- 
 self even if it lead to the death of the assail- 
 ant. But even in this case so strongly does 
 it disapprove of the practice of seeking private 
 redress, that every effort must have been pre- 
 viously made to escape, or to disarm the as- 
 sailant, before we can lawfully have recourse 
 to this expedient. In short, private redress of 
 injuries is allowable in cases where from defect 
 of evidence no redress could otherwise be ob- 
 tained. Thus in the 22d chap. 2d verse of Ex- 
 odus, we read this law, which agrees also with 
 that of the English code. ''If a thief be found 
 *' breaking up, and be smitten that he die, no 
 *' blood shall be shed for him: if the sun be 
 *' risen upon him, there shall be blood shed for 
 *^ him.'* The reason of which appears to be. 
 
SERMON XV. 279 
 
 that if discovered and recognised, as he might 
 easily be in the day, the fact could be proved 
 and the decision ot the law ubstalned ; but if he 
 escaped, which he was likely to do in the dark, 
 no restitution or redress could be obtained. 
 But will it be said that injuries done to honour 
 are ni any respect in a similar predicament ? 
 What irretrievable mischief would ensue from 
 waiting for the decision of justice? What 
 more effectual vindication of our honour can 
 be obtained than by the impartial and delibe- 
 rate sentence of the law ? What redress more 
 satisfactory can we desire than to have our in- 
 nocence declared by disinterested and en- 
 ligthened men, and the brand of falsehood and 
 of infamy impressed upon our adversary I 
 
 Besides, if even the case were such as to 
 permit private retaliation, yet this ought to be 
 proportioned to the measure of the offence : 
 the same redress is not applicable in every 
 case. The very principle of this law, is, as ex- 
 pressed in the scriptures, " an eye for an eye, 
 and a tooth for a tooth." It may be just and 
 equitable that, whoso sheddeth man's blood 
 by man shall his blood be shed, but surely it 
 can never be just and equitable that a slight 
 injury, whether real or imaginary, arising 
 
180 SERMON XV. 
 
 from some unguarded expression, from some 
 interference oHntcrest, or from sentiments of 
 pride mutally indulged, should be redressec 
 in the blood of the rival or aggressor. Neither 
 is it consistent with common sense, that, from 
 the retort courteous to the lie direct, there 
 should be only one method of redress, the 
 death or maiming of either of the parties. 
 Is it equally as criminal to question the integ- 
 rity of our neighbour as to plunge a dagger 
 into his bosom? Must an uncivil speech be 
 accounted for as manslaughter; or a passionate 
 blow be punished as premeditated murder ? 
 
 2. H^ who challenges another to single 
 combat, for injuries received, violates those 
 precepts of our divine religion which en- 
 join a meek, patient, and forgiving conduct. 
 
 The law of nature permits a retaliation for 
 wrongs, under this restriction, that, excepjt in 
 a few urgent and extraordinary cases, the re- 
 dress and punishment of wrongs be referred 
 to the magistrate. The law of Moses, which 
 is chiefly a publication of the law of nature, 
 expressly and formally enjoins under the 
 same restriction the law of retaliation. Thus 
 in Exodus, 21st chapter, and '23, 24, 25 
 verses, ** Thou shalt give life for life, eye 
 
SERMON XV. 281 
 
 " for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot 
 " for foot, burning for burning, wound for 
 *^ wound, stripe for stripe." But all this was 
 expressly directed to be as the judges sliould 
 determine. Besides, there are many clauses 
 additional to and explanatory of this general 
 maxim, to be found in the books of Moses, 
 wliich greatly soften the rigour of the law, 
 and lean powerfully to the side of justice and 
 mercy. To prevent the fatal effects of sud- 
 den resentment, cities of refuge were appoint- 
 ed where the criminal might be secure, till 
 the law had calmly and deliberately decided 
 upon his guilt or innocence. And though 
 we read in the gospel that it was said by them 
 of old time, thou shalt love thy neighbour 
 and hate thine enemy, it must be confessed 
 that no such command as the latter of these ig 
 to be found in the Mosaic k law, but it must 
 have been the false comment of the Scribes 
 and Pharisees, as a mistaken inference from 
 some express commands of God to the Israel- 
 ites to destroy and root out the wicked and 
 idolatrous Canaanites. So much the reverse 
 was the true law, that Moses expressly says, 
 '* Thou shalt not avenge nor bear any grudge 
 '* against the children of thy people, but thou 
 VOL. ir. o o 
 
2S^ SERMON XV. 
 
 '* shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.*' Lev. 
 xix. 18; and again, *' If thou meet thine 
 ^' enemy's ox or his ass going astray, thou shalt 
 ** surely bring it back to him again. If 
 ** thou see the ass of him that hateth thee lying 
 ** under his burden, and wouldst forbear to 
 " help him, thou shalt surely help with 
 '' him." Exodus, 23d chap. 4th and 5th verses. 
 In like manner in the book of Proverbs, 24th 
 chapter, 29th verse, ''Say not I will do so to 
 *' him as he hath done to me ; I will ren- 
 <'der to the man according to his work." 
 And under the Old Testament dispensation, 
 we have on record many illustrious examples 
 of patience under ill treatment, and forgiv- 
 ness of injuries. Nay even among the heath- 
 en writers we meet with many excellent max- 
 ims on this subject. Pythagoras is recorded to 
 have said, that, we ought neither to begin re- 
 proaches nor to avenge ourselves on those who 
 reproach us. Menander says, he who can 
 bear injuries patiently is the best of men. 
 Plato, in his celebrated work entitled Crito, 
 observes, that, even when provoked by an in- 
 jury we ought not to retaliate whatever we 
 may suffer from others. 
 
 It must be confessed, however, not only that 
 
SERMON XV. 283 
 
 the Jewish writings spoke faintly on this sub- 
 ject, and that the heathen philosophers and sa- 
 ^s were by no means consistent and uniform 
 in their opinions about the forgiveness of inju- 
 ries and the proper behaviour towards enemies, 
 but, also, that the custom and maxims of the 
 world were in the days of our Saviour, as in our 
 own, altogether the reverse ofmeeknessand for- 
 bearance. It was the era of war and of con- 
 quest, when rapine, bloodshed and cruelty 
 prevailed over the face of the earth, when the 
 fiery and turbulent soldier commanded more 
 effectually the esteem and applause of the 
 world than the peaceable and inoffensive ci- 
 tizen. The Jewish Rabbis had, from a mis- 
 taken interpretation of some of the precepts 
 of their law, and from a spirit of national pride, 
 inculcated an absolute hatred and contempt 
 of all nations but their own, so that they would 
 not point out the road or direct to the neigh- 
 bouring fountain any who was not a descen- 
 dant of Abraham. 
 
 It remained for the blessed Authour of our 
 holy religion to enlighten the world on this im- 
 portant subject, to teach fallen and sinful men 
 the duty of forgiving and forbearing with one 
 another. It formed indeed a necessary and 
 
mk SERMON XV. 
 
 essential article in the gospel, the great design 
 of which was to promote peace on earth and 
 good will among men — which was itself so stri- 
 king z display of the divine forgiveness, and 
 which was embellished by so amiable and per- 
 fect an example of patience and forbearance in 
 him who was meek and lowly in heart. The 
 general character of the wisdom which cometh 
 from above is that it is pure and peaceable, gen- 
 tle and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and 
 of good fruits. It is a system of humanity, kind- 
 ness and love, utterly incompatible with vari- 
 ance, emulation, wrath, strife and malice. It 
 commands us to put on, as we pretend to be 
 the elect of God, bowels of mercies, meekness 
 of disposition, humility of mind, forgiving and 
 forbearing one another in love. It com- 
 mands us to live peaceably with all men, not 
 only with the good and gentle, but also with 
 the froward. On the one hand it inculcates a 
 gentle and inoffensive behaviour, so that ali 
 ground of variance on our part may be remo- 
 ved. It condemns not only actions hurtful to 
 our neighbour, but also words which may 
 wound his feelings and provoke him to wrath, 
 and even injurious thoughts and unreasonable 
 
SERMON XV. 285 
 
 anger though concealed in the breast. Thus 
 says our Lord in the gospel of Matthew, 5th 
 chapter, 21st and '2'2d verses, ** Ye have heard 
 '* that it was said by them of old time, thou 
 " shalt not kill, and whosoever shall kill, shall 
 " be in danger of the judgment; but I say unto 
 " you, that whosever is angry with his brother 
 *' without a cause, shall be in danger of the 
 ^' judgment, and whosoever shall say to his 
 *' brother Raca, shall be in danger of the 
 '* council; but whosoever shall say, thou fool, 
 '* shall be in danger of hell fire.'* Were these 
 and similar directions frequently occuring in 
 the New Testament to be sincerely and punc- 
 tually obsei*ved by those who profess to obey 
 them, the flame of resentment would, for want 
 of fuel, soon die of itself. But in a mixed and 
 imperfect state, offences must needs come. 
 And the gospel has not omitted to give us di- 
 rections for regulating our conduct in such 
 cases. But what are these directions ? Does 
 the gospel represent it as cowardly and mean- 
 spirited to act with the calmness of a reasonable 
 being when we have been exposed to injuries? 
 When men revile us, and speak all manner of 
 evil against us falsely, are we commanded to 
 return railing for railing ? When even, in a 
 
SI86 SERMON XV. 
 
 fit of passion, he has smitten us on the cheek, 
 are we directed to seize him and demand in- 
 stant satisfaction to the utmost extent of retalia- 
 tion ? No, on the contrary, we are commanded 
 to bear these things patiently, not to resist evil, 
 not to recompense evil for evil, sincerely and 
 unreservedly to forgive our brother the wrongs 
 which he may have done us; nay even to love, 
 to bless, and to do acts of kindness to those who 
 are guilty of the greatest outrage and abuse, and 
 all this it enjoins us to do as we hope to have 
 our names enrolled in the Lamb's book of life. 
 For hear the words of the Lawgiver himself, 
 and also the commentary of one of his Apostles, 
 *' Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye 
 *' for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth : But I say 
 ''unto you, that ye resist not evil ; but who- 
 ** soever shall smite thee on thy right cheek 
 " turn to him the other also ; and if any man 
 *' sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, 
 *' let him have thy cloak also. And whoso- 
 *' ever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with 
 ^' him twain. Ye have heard that it hath been 
 " said, thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate 
 " thine enemy; but I say unto you, love your 
 ^* enemies, bless them that curse you, do good 
 '* to them that hate you, and pray for then* 
 
SERMON XV. CJ87 
 
 •* that despitefully use you and persecute 
 " you. If ye farglve men their trespasses your 
 '* heavenly father will also forgive you, but 
 *' if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neith- 
 *' er will your heavenly father forgive your 
 *' trespasses." To the same purpose St. Paul 
 says, *' Bless them which persecute you, 
 '' bless and curse not. Recompense to no 
 '^ man evil for evil. Dearly beloved, avenge 
 *' not yourselves, but rather give place unto 
 '* wrath ; for it is written, vengeance is mine: 
 '* I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore, if 
 '* thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he 
 ''thirst, give him drink; for in so doing, 
 '^ thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head. 
 '^ Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil 
 *' with good." 
 
 It is not necessary to my present purpose to 
 enter into a defence of these precepts, to show 
 their reasonableness, or to point out the many 
 motives which should induce you to comply 
 with them. This I have done on former oc- 
 casions, with what success will appear at that 
 day when I must account for what I have 
 here spoken, and you for what you have 
 here heard. Besides, as Christians, you pro- 
 fess to receive them and to be governed by 
 
^88 SERMON XV. 
 
 them. Neither is it necessary to enter into 
 a critical examination of these passages, and 
 to shew the exact measure of forbearance 
 which they enjoin. Some of the early fa- 
 thers of the church, while Christianity was 
 yet new, and a zeal for the words of the Sa- 
 viour was still warm and unabated, maintained 
 that they required a non-resistence, absolutely 
 unlimited, inconsistent with the exercise of 
 war, of self-defence, and of redress of injuries 
 of any kind or in any way. One of them (St. 
 Ambrose) maintained that if a Christian was 
 assaulted, even by an armed robber, he ought 
 not to retaliate upon the assailant, lest while he 
 defended his life he should pollute his piety^ 
 Another (St. Augustine) says **1 cannot approve 
 " of this advice to slay another in self-defence, 
 " unless it be in the case of a soldier, or of a 
 •* publick functionary who possesses a lawful 
 " authority, and is bound by his office, to do 
 ** this not for himself, but for others." 
 
 Others, with much more justice, have 
 maintained that an interpretation so rigorous 
 would place the morality of Jesus in direct 
 opposition to the natural sentiments of right 
 and wrong, would be inconsistent with other 
 passages of scripture, and contrary to the ex- 
 
SERMON XV. 289 
 
 amples of Christ and his Apostles. However 
 this may be, taking these precepts in the ve- 
 ry lowest sense which they can possibly bear, 
 they will not tail to stamp with guilt the 
 practice which we are now considering. - It 
 is certain that the gospel condemns all pride, 
 violent and excessive anger, malice and re- 
 venge; that It enjoins humility, meekness, 
 patience, and forgiveness of m juries. But 
 whence come wars and lightings among us ? 
 Come they not from those very passions 
 which the gospel commands us to suppress ? 
 What is it but pride which fills a man with 
 an overweaning idea of himself, which magni- 
 fies every aftVont or injury offered to his dignity 
 and his feelings, that seeks after occasions to 
 distinguish itself, that causes a man to refuse to 
 be entreated or to confess the faults which he 
 may have in return committed ? What is it but 
 anger that pushes him on to resist and to re^ 
 taliate. What but revenge ih'niQooWy and de- 
 liberately resolves on the destruction of his 
 adversary, pursues him into his domestick re- 
 tirement, tears him from his family and friends^ 
 drags him to the field of death, and points the 
 instrument of murder where it should have 
 placed the shield of defence. Humihtv, 
 VOL, ir. p p 
 
^m SERMON XV. 
 
 meekness, patience and forgiveness are never 
 found in such society. They are the stead- 
 fast friends of peace and concord. They 
 were the constant companions of him w^hom 
 we profess to imitate. They shone forth in 
 his looks; they breathed in his words; they 
 stood forth embodied in all his actions. When 
 lie was reviled he reviled not again ; when 
 he suffered he threatened not ; but gave his 
 back to the smiters, and his cheeks to them 
 who plucked off the hair. When malice 
 was directing all her shafts against him, when 
 insolence loaded him with contumely, when 
 justice refused to listen to his cry, when cru- 
 elty assailed him in the most terrible forms, 
 meekness, patience, and forgiveness did not 
 forsake him, but dictated his last words, which 
 were a prayer for the forgiveness of his enemies 
 and persecutors. Let this illustrious example 
 convince those violent spirits, who extinguish 
 the flame of their resentment with the blood 
 of their adversary, that by complying with 
 the precepts of the gospel they are in no dan- 
 ger of degrading their nature or of extinguish- 
 ing the sense of honour. Human nature was 
 never so much exalted as by the character 
 and life of our Saviour. The sense of honour 
 
SERMON XV. 291 
 
 was never more delicate than in the breast of 
 Jesus of Nazareth. Low as was his rank, the 
 tempter shrank back from his rebuke. 
 Though bound as a criminal, Pilate trembled 
 in his awful presence. The lawless and en- 
 raged multitude, overawed by the dignity of 
 his countenance, suffered him to pass unhurt 
 through the midst of them. Such is the res- 
 pect which the calm aspect of virtue can se- 
 cure ! 
 
 But let the men of the world think of these 
 virtues as they please, the Christian cannot 
 think lightly of them, who knows that upon 
 the practice of them all his hopes of future 
 happiness depend. Only reflect that erelong 
 your will stand before the judgment seat of 
 God, supplicants for mercy and forgiveness, 
 and then say what ought to be your conduct 
 under the most provoking injuries. Imagine 
 your secret sins disclosed and brought to 
 light; imagine yourselves thus humbled and 
 exposed ; trembling under the hand of God ; 
 casting yourselves on his mercy, crying out 
 for forgiveness of your ten thousand aggrava- 
 ted offences; then imagine such a creature 
 talking of satisfaction, refusing to be entreated, 
 disdaining to forgive, extreme to mark and to 
 
^292 SERMON XV. 
 
 resent what is done amiss — it is impossible to 
 imagine an instance of more impious and un- 
 natural arrogance. 
 
 Here perhaps it may be said that I have been 
 hitherto only contending with a phantom ; that 
 I have ahogether mistaken the point. The ad- 
 vocate for duelling is not an advocate for re- 
 venge. He who calls forth another that has 
 injured and insulted him, rejects with abhor- 
 rence the imputation of so base a motive. He 
 freely forgives the insult received : he has even 
 an esteem for the offender. It is not hatred, or 
 revenge, or a thirst for blood, that calls him to 
 the field, but a direful necessity which none 
 laments more than himself, either to forfeit 
 what is dear to him above all things, his hon- 
 our, or to demand satisfaction for an offence 
 which he would otherwise have overlooked. 
 
 Allowing this to be the case, 1 shall by and 
 by proceed to show the folly and wickedness 
 of such a principle. But I cannot allow it to 
 to be the case. Will any one seriously say 
 that he who assails his neighbour with a dead- 
 ly weapon has no enmity nor ill-will against 
 him ? if he has not, his conduct is more ab- 
 surd than the madman who casteth about (ire- 
 brands, airows and death, and saith am X not 
 
SERMON XV. 293 
 
 in sport? The intoxication of passion, though 
 it docs not justify, may yet account for the 
 commission of this crime. But, for the hon- 
 our of human nature, we cannot suppose that 
 any man would assault another's Hfe out of 
 mere wantonness and gaiety of heart. If it be 
 pretended that it is in vindication of his honour 
 which has been injured, were there not many 
 other more eftectual methods of doing this 
 than by calling his adversary forth to single 
 combat ? Was his courage questioned ? Was 
 there no publick enemy, against whom his 
 prowess might be displayed, that he must 
 thus attack a fellow citizen, perhaps a friend? 
 AVas his veracity impeached ? Was there no 
 tribunal competent to decide so well as the 
 point of the sword ? AVho does not perceive the 
 prudence and propriety of the answer given 
 by Augustus to Anthony, when the latter, 
 tortured with shame at his own misconduct, 
 galled with envy at his rival's success, despair- 
 ing of his affairs, and disgusted with existence, 
 challenged the former to single combat ? " If 
 ** Anthony is weary of his life, said Augustus, 
 ** there are many thousand ways of ending it 
 " besides the point of my sword." The chal- 
 lenger, therefore, cannot evade the charge of 
 
^94 SERMON XV. 
 
 revenge ; he cannot pretend that from the 
 heart he forgives the trespasses of him whose 
 life he seeks. 
 
 3. But I now proceed to other instances of 
 guilt attending the practice of duelUng, which 
 apply equally to him who gives and him who 
 accepts a challenge. For both are in the eye 
 of God guilty of murder. To take a way 
 the life of another unjustly has in all ages and 
 nations been deemed the greatest crime which 
 can possibly be committed against God, against 
 society, or against an individual. It is a di- 
 rect insult to the majesty of heaven, whose im- 
 age we bear ; it is a violent attack on the au- 
 thority of the law, which promises protection 
 to all its subjects; it violates at once every tem- 
 poral right of the individual, and may plunge 
 him, with all his sins upon his head, uncancel- 
 led, unrepented of, into everlasting misery. 
 Hence the wise Authour of, our frame hath 
 not only impressed upon the mind a sense of 
 the guilt of murder, but ha5 moreover strength- 
 ened it by the most inexpressible horrour, and 
 the most awful anticipations of punishment, 
 which no distance of time, no subsequent pros- 
 perity, can ever wholly obliterate from the 
 thoughts of those who have been guilty of its 
 
SERMON XV. 295 
 
 commission. ** My punishment/' said he 
 who did the first murder, ** is greater tlian I 
 *' can bear; every one that iindeth mc shall 
 " slay me." 
 
 Revelation fences and guards human life 
 in a manner still more strict and avvful than 
 even the sentiments of nature, aided by the 
 desire of self-preservation. For thus spake 
 God unto Noah, '* Surely your blood of your 
 ** lives will I require ; at the hand of every 
 '* beast will I require it : and at the hand of 
 '* man, at the hand of every man's brother will 
 *' I require the life of man. Whoso sheddeth 
 " man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed : 
 '' for in the image of God made he man." 
 No one is ignorant of the sixth commandment 
 of the law. '' Thou shalt not kill;" And lest 
 any one should suppose that this heinous crime 
 might, like some other instances of transgres- 
 sion of a very aggravating nature, have a me- 
 thod of expiation and atonement appointed for 
 it, the performance of which would absolve the 
 criminal from his guilt and punishment, the 
 lawgiver adds, Dcut.xix. 11> 13, **lf any man 
 " hate his neighbour, and smite him mortally 
 " that he die, thine eye shall not pity him." 
 Numb. XXXV. 31, '* Moreover ye shall take no 
 
^96 SERMON XV. 
 
 "satisfaction for the life of a murderer; but he 
 '' shall surely be put to death/* Neither the ci- 
 ties of refuge, nor even the altar of God, could 
 screen the murderer from punishment. Exod. 
 xxi. 14, *' If a man come presumptuously upon 
 *' another to slay himwith guile, thou shalt take 
 ** him from mine altar, that he may die." Yea 
 still to increase our reverence for human life, 
 and our abhorrence of murder, it is added, that 
 even the brute animal which might be the in- 
 strument of taking away a man's life was accur- 
 sed, and the place where the deed was commit- 
 ted was polluted. Exod. xxi. 28, " If an ox 
 '^ gore a man or a woman, that they die, then 
 *' the ox shall surely be stoned, and his flesh 
 *' shall not be eaten.'* Numbers xxxv. 33, 
 *' Ye shall not pollute the land wherein ye 
 ** are ; for blood defileth the land, and the 
 ** land cannot be cleansed of the blood that is 
 *' shed therein, but by tlie blood of him that 
 <* shed it/' The gospel not only confirms and 
 sanctions every tittle of the moral law, but, on 
 this subject in particular, declares that no mur- 
 derer hath eternal life abiding in him, but 
 that they shall have their part in the lake 
 which burneth with fire and brimstome, which 
 is the second death. 
 
^ SERMON XV. 297 
 
 ' I have recalled to your recollection these 
 prohibitions and aggravations of this horrid and 
 unnatural crime, that you may see more clear- 
 ly how valuable and sacred a thing the life of 
 man is in the eye both of religion and of the 
 law, and what dreadful guilt they incur who 
 unjustly deprive another of that which is the 
 foundation of every blessing. Now by what 
 arguments or evasion shall the duellist evade 
 the imputation of this crime? Does he not 
 voluntarily and with premeditation attempt 
 to take away the life of his adversary? The 
 failure of the attempt does not diminish the 
 guilt of the attempt ; for, though the law would 
 not account it murder unless followed by an 
 actual kilhng, yet God, who searcheth the heart 
 and with whom intentions are acts, considers 
 the attempt as no less criminal than the act it- 
 self. Where the death of either or both the 
 parties ensues, that this is murder is not the 
 language of divines only, or of partial advo- 
 cates, but of that law which has justly been 
 esteemed the proudest monument of human 
 Wisdom. *' This,'* says its ablest and clearest 
 commentator, speaking of the case where one, 
 with a sedate, deliberate mind, and formed de- 
 sign, doth kill another, ** takes in the case of 
 
 VOL. IT. Q q 
 
298 SERMON XV. 
 
 " deliberate duelling, where both parties meet 
 '' avpwedly with an intent to murder; think- 
 ** ing it their duty as gentlemen, and claim- 
 ^* ing it as their right, to wanton with their 
 ^' own lives and those of their fellow creatures; 
 " without any warrant or authority from any 
 *^ power either divine or human, but in di- 
 ** rect contradiction to the laws both of God 
 ^* and man ; and therefore the law has justly 
 '* fixed the crime and punishment of mur- 
 ^' der on them, and on their seconds also." 
 
 It is the common language of the duellist 
 to say that he allows his adversary a fair and 
 equal chance in combat. But what a chance ! ! 
 The chance of being slain, or, what is worse, 
 of committing murder. Without, indeed, 
 the exposure of the persons of the parties, 
 duelling would be nothing else than assassina- 
 tion. And as it is, it makes no difference in 
 the guilt, and but little in the consequence. 
 The highwayman who, in the face of day, 
 attacks and murders another who is also armed 
 and prepared, may be admired perhaps for 
 a certain kind of generosity and courage, but 
 he is not the less a murderer on that account. 
 The danger to which the duellist is equally 
 exposed with his adversary may perhaps de- 
 
SERMON XV. 299 
 
 ter a few from engaging in duels who would 
 be glad to dispatch their enemy where it could 
 be done without personal risk. But on the 
 other hand, the excessive baseness and mean- 
 ness of the crime of assassination will ever pre- 
 vent Its commission by men of the smallest 
 pretentions to courage and magnanimity; 
 whereas the fascinating glare which the sup- 
 posed generosity and bravery of engaging in 
 single combat throws over this crime will be 
 apt to dazzle and allure many who otherwise 
 might be inclined to forgive. And it is found 
 in fact that there are very few indeed who 
 have not sufficient bravery to run the hazar4 
 to which they are exposed in a duel, in obe- 
 dience to the call of passion or of false hon- 
 our. 
 
 4. Will the duellist plead, in extenuation of 
 his offence the mutual consent and permission 
 of the parties to attempt each other's life ? But 
 it is evident that no man can transfer to an- 
 other a right which he does not possess him- 
 self, namely, to determine the duration of 
 his own life. This evasion only leads us to 
 consider another circumstance of guilt attend- 
 ing those who engage in duels. I mean, 
 that, by wantonly exposing their own lives. 
 
300 SERMON XV. 
 
 thejr incur the guilt of self-murder. That 
 the Almighty, by the very constitution of our 
 nature, has fixed his canon against self-mur- 
 der. That we ought not to desert our post, 
 abandon our trust, and rush uncalled into the 
 presence of oar Maker, are points requiring no 
 proof to a Christian audience. But are not 
 they guilty of this sin, who, rather than sup- 
 port the pain and torture of imaginary dishon- 
 our, seek to disburden themselves of existence 5 
 For where is the difference between voluntarily 
 rushing upon another's sword and plunging 
 it into our own bosom ? Were the Romans 
 who perished, at their own request, by the 
 hands of their freed-men, less guihy of suicide^ 
 than they who fell upon their own swords ? 
 We came into being for important purposes, 
 When these purposes are fully answered, and 
 our continuance in the world altogether use- 
 less, we are evidently incompetent to deter- 
 mine. Our duty to society and to ourselves 
 requires that we should strive to preserve our 
 life and faculties for the discharge of that du- 
 ty, until we receive a manifest and irresistible 
 call to depart hence. Can our life ever be of 
 so little consequence and value to ourselves or 
 to others that we may wantonly put it in the 
 
SERMON. XV. 30L 
 
 power of any violent spirit who may choose to 
 ask it of us? When we are required to make 
 our calling and election sure, when we have 
 need constantly to improve ourselves in know- 
 ledge and virtue, when perhaps our fall will 
 bring the gray hairs of aged parents with sor- 
 row to the grave, or expose to want and mise*^ 
 ry the infants of whose existence we have been 
 the instruments ? Can any man in his sober 
 senses deem it wise and prudent not rather to 
 bear the proud man's wrong, the oppressor's 
 contumely, than expose himself to the divine 
 wrath, and plunge himself into utter destruc- 
 tion ? What will the duellist be profited if he 
 gains the applause of the whole world and 
 lose his own life and his own soul ? This leads 
 me to observe, 
 
 5. That they who give and except chal- 
 lenges are guilty of the folly and wickedness 
 of paying a greater deference to the opinion of 
 the world than to the laws of God and to the 
 dictates of their own mind. It has been al- 
 ready proved that the practice of duelling is 
 inconsistent with reason and religion, that it 
 implies a very high degree of guilt, and that 
 no man who is actuated by a sense of duty can 
 ever engage in a duel. There is reason also t(v 
 
002 SERMON XV. 
 
 believe that few men who have seriously reflec- 
 ted on the subject, approve of the practice, they 
 lament it as a great evil, which requires to be 
 remedied. But still they practise it, and, what 
 makesthis sin differ from many others, and adds 
 greatly to its guilt, they habitually practise It, 
 by being resolved to do so, whenever occasion 
 offers. And wherefore is this ? They love the 
 praise of men more than the praise of God. 
 The world has said that he who tamely bears 
 insults and injuries, that he who refuses to 
 give another honourable satisfaction for them 
 when required, is a coward — and this is an im- 
 putation which they must wipe away. So to 
 prove themselves no coward, they commit a 
 most flagrant act of cowardice ; they fear 
 where there is no cause for fear, they dread a 
 phantom which has no power to hurt. 
 
 There is not In our language a word of 
 more equivocal meaning, less clearly under- 
 stood, and more egregiously misapplied than 
 honour. Strictly speaking, it originally sig- 
 nified that sentiment of esteem and approba- 
 tion which exists in the mind of others, for 
 what is excellent and virtuous. But, by a 
 natural transition, it Is also applied to that mer- 
 it which is the ground of this esteem. Hence 
 
SERMON XV. 303 
 
 honour, as applied to a man himself, is noth- 
 ing but virtue. Honour as applied to others 
 is the reputation of virtue. Virtue, then, is 
 the substance^ honour is the shadow. He who 
 acts uprightly and in conformity with the laws 
 of reason and religion is the truly honourable 
 man: for he is honourable whether man 
 think so or not, he who deserts the path of 
 duty, and, by servile compliance, seeks to be 
 accounted honourable by the world, pursues 
 the shadow and loses the substance. In the 
 eyes of God and in the eyes of all wise men 
 he is actually dishonoured, for he wants the 
 only foundation on which honour can rest. 
 
 Beside, let those who are disposed to follow 
 fashion and opinion, as the guides of conduct, 
 consider seriously the consequences of such a 
 principle. Our ideas of morality would not 
 in that case be more stable than our taste in 
 dress and equipage. Their is not a duty 
 which might not be got rid of, if the prevail- 
 ing opinion were once admitted to be the 
 standard of virtue; if vague and unauthorised 
 maxims of honour were allowed to create ex- 
 ceptions to the divine law. 
 
 By steadily adhering to our duty, through 
 good report and through bad report, we en- 
 
$6k SEHMON XV. 
 
 * 
 
 joy the internal approbation of our own mind ; 
 and surely one self-approving hour far out- 
 weighs the loudest plaudits of the giddy mul- 
 titude. 
 
 The man who'follows honour, as a guide of 
 conduct distinct from virtue, puts his neck un- 
 der a yoke, he becomes the slave of publick 
 opinion, he enlists himself in the service of 
 6ne of the most capricious, inconsistent and 
 tyrannical masters, whose laws are obscure, per- 
 plexed and entangled. The man of princi- 
 ple, who follows virtue as his sole guide and 
 his only aim, proceeds in a safe and plain 
 path, he has only to inquire whether God 
 hath said, ''this do,*' to awaken his exertions, 
 and ** this thou shalt not do,*' to induce him 
 to abstain. He is not insensible to the voice 
 of sincere and well-earned praise; but still it 
 is a small matter with him to be judged of 
 man's judgment. He looks up to a higher 
 tribunal, where the judge is altogether compe- 
 tent to decide, and his decision will finally 
 award the prize. A few misguided men may 
 Censure him who has courage to set at nought 
 their opinions, to act according to his own 
 principles, to reject a sinful compliance with 
 the practice and maxims of the world. But 
 
SERMON XV. 305 
 
 his record is on high, his witness is in heaven. 
 He has confidence towards God ; his own 
 heart does not condemn him. Angels pro- 
 claim their approbation; all wise and good 
 men join their amen. Even the censures 
 and reproaches of the world, like clouds which 
 seek to obscure the sun, will be gradually dis- 
 persed, and the man of principle, who feared 
 God and had no other fear, will shine forth 
 with greater splendour, approved of God and 
 of man. 
 
 Thus dangerous and uncertain a guide is 
 human opinion, even allowing it to be inno- 
 cent and well founded. But if the opinion of 
 the world be false and absurd ; if it be at utter 
 variance with our duty and interest, then, I 
 should suppose, there can be no question 
 whether we ought to obey God or man ; that 
 we must not follow the whole world to do evil. 
 Now, in the case before us, what arc the opin- 
 ions of the world which are the foundation of 
 this destructive practice ? First, that it is cow- 
 ardly to put up with an affront or any imputa- 
 tion on our honour. But as to this virtue of 
 courage, deemed so honourable, and the repu- 
 tation of which is so highly courted, abstractly 
 considered, it is no virtue at all. It depends 
 
 VOL. II. R r 
 
306 SERMON XV. 
 
 entirely upon the purpose to which it is ap- 
 plied. When employed in the discharge of 
 our duty, when guided by discretion, when 
 tempered with humanity, it is justly ranked 
 among the highest principles ot* our nature. 
 But when exercised with passion, in the ser- 
 vice of revenge, to destroy and not to protect, 
 then it is brutal and ferocious, an object of de- 
 testation and abhorrence. In this species of 
 courage, if it may be called so, the highway- 
 man and the robber, are certainly entitled to 
 the palm ; the lion and the tyger leave all 
 your men of honour at a hopeless distance. 
 
 But allowing that, independent ot* the merits 
 of the question, some kind of courage is ne- 
 cessary to expose our person in the field, does 
 it follow that he is destitute of courage who de- 
 clines the call ? There is a species of valour, 
 different indeed in kind from the former, but 
 of a much more exalted and honourable na- 
 ture, which is displayed in resisting our own 
 passions and in meeting undismayed the eye 
 of a misjudging world. Ibis passive valour 
 requires a greater exertion of self-command, 
 it manifests a greater superiority to popular 
 prejudices; it shows fortitude in the discharge 
 of duty which neither his own turbulent pas- 
 
SERMON XV. 307 
 
 sions, nor the insolence of provocation, nor 
 the sneers of folly can shake. He that is slow 
 to wrath is better than the mighty, and he that 
 ruleth his spirit greater than he that taketh 
 a city. He who, from weakness of nerves or 
 bodily imbecility, cannot meet his adversary 
 in the field, is not intitled to this praise. But, 
 on the other hand, he is not deserving of 
 blame; for he might as well be condemned for 
 wanting the strength of the elephant or the 
 swiftness of the rein deer. But the man who, 
 from principle and a just sentiment of honour, 
 disregards the efforts of little angiy souls to 
 wound his feelings and to disturb his peace, 
 who repays contumely and insults with cour- 
 teous behaviour and kind offices, who marches 
 on in the path of duty with a firm and un- 
 daunted step, rises above the ordinary rank 
 of humanity, and imitates him whose fairest 
 best loved attribute is to pity and forgive. 
 
 To meet another, in what is falsely called 
 the field of honour, is an effort which many 
 a coward has forced himself against his nature 
 to make, but we cannot meet with a single 
 instance where he could induce himself to 
 forgive. This is a task left for men of great 
 and generous dispositions, for men who are as 
 
;^08 SERMON XV. 
 
 much above fearing as doing ill, for men who 
 have a true sense of honour, and who, in con- 
 sequence of this, continue doing every thing 
 which they ought to do, fear nothing but what 
 they ought to fear. 
 
 Nay, my brethren, may we not retort the 
 charge of cowardice on those weak and tim- 
 orous minds who tremble at undeserved re- 
 proach, who dread shame more than guilt, 
 who fear him who can kill the body only 
 more than him who can cast both soul and 
 body into hell fire. 
 
 But how many noble instances are on re- 
 cord where persons have declined to give or 
 to receive a challenge, without the smallest 
 imputation on their courage or their honour! 
 was Colonel Gardiner a coward who replied 
 to one who challenged him, ** 1 am not afraid 
 " to fight but I am afraid to sin/' Was the 
 the honour of Sir Walter Raleigh tarnished, 
 when this great man, upon being very injuri- 
 ously treated by a hot-headed, rash youth, 
 that next proceeded to challenge him, and on 
 his refusal to fight spit upon him, and that 
 too in publick, took out his handkerchief, and 
 with great calmness made only this reply, 
 •* Young man, if I could as easily wipe your 
 
SERMON XV. 309 
 
 ** blood from my conscience, as I can this in- 
 "jury from my face, I would this moment take 
 *' away your life ! '* Who does not admire the 
 prudence, the magnanimity and the courage of 
 the Marshal Turenne who, when a young offi- 
 cer, at the siege of a fortified town, had no less 
 than twelve challenges sent him, all of which 
 he put in his pocket without farther notice; 
 but being soon after commanded upon some 
 desperate attack on a part of the fortifications, 
 he sent a billet to each of the challengers, ac- 
 quainting them *' that he had received their 
 " papers, which he deferred answering till a 
 " proper occasion offered, both for them and 
 " for himself, to exert their courage for the 
 " publick service; that being ordered next 
 '* day to assault the enemies works he desired 
 ^' their company, when they would have an 
 *' opportunity of signalizing their own bravery 
 " and of being witness of his!" In short, to 
 propose an example of the perfection and 
 propriety of which their can be no question, 
 was the sense of honour extinct in the breast 
 of Jesus of Nazareth, who, when one of the of- 
 ficers that stood by struck him with the palm 
 of his hand, calmly replied, *' if I have spo- 
 '* ken evil, bear witness of the evil; if well 
 
310 SERMON XV. 
 
 *' why smitest thou me V* All ye who would 
 be sincere Christians, and men of true honour, 
 go and do likewise. 
 
 Thus much for the sinfulness of duelling; 
 and as this is the point which I am more par- 
 ticularly called on to illustrate here, perhaps, 
 the discourse might terminate. But, as I do 
 not wish to leave any matter of this controver- 
 sy wholly untouched, or to allow the duellist 
 any advantage which he might claim from 
 the expediency or usefulness of the practice, 
 I beg your farther indulgence while I say a 
 few words on its folly and mischievous tend* 
 ency. 
 
 He, we are told, who wantonly and outrage- 
 ously injures the honour and the feelings of 
 his neighbour, ought to suifer for his mis- 
 conduct. And so he ought. But how will 
 duelling answer the end of punishment, when 
 the injured person runs the same risk of suf- 
 fering with the person who did the injury? 
 This is to confound innocence and guilt, re- 
 ward and punishment. 
 
 He who has received any injury, we are 
 farther told, has a right to satisfaction and 
 compensation: his violated honour requires 
 publick reparation. And let him have satis- 
 
SERMON XV. 311 
 
 faction of the most substantial and genuine 
 kind. But surely duelling furnishes no such 
 satisfaction. The destruction of your neigh- 
 bour is no recompense for the loss which you 
 have sustained. You may take the life of 
 him who gives you the lie, or charges you 
 with a breach of trust; but hereby you will 
 only load your conscience with the guilt of 
 his blood, and your veracity and integrity 
 will still be as much subject to question as be- 
 fore. If his charge be just, you were the 
 person who impeached your honour, when 
 you committed the crime. If unjust, your 
 best vindication will lie in manifesting to the 
 world the falsehood of his imputation, and the 
 infamy will then redound with tenfold weight 
 upon the head of the slanderer. 
 
 But tamely to submit to every insult with- 
 out resistance or retaliation, would only be an 
 invitation to farther acts of injustice and op- 
 pression. I have never said that redress of in- 
 juries is in no case to be sought for and obtain- 
 ed. I only say that the redress must be such 
 asisconsistentwilh reason and with Christianity. 
 But would the evil dreaded actually ensue? 
 He must be an ungenerous and dastardly cow- 
 ard who will continue to persecute one who 
 
312 SERMON XV. 
 
 receives his ill-usage with coolness and disre- 
 gard — who returns blessing for cursing, po- 
 liteness for insult, love for hatred. If your ad- 
 versary be worth the gaining, if he is such a 
 character as even your man of honour would 
 meet in the field, such behaviour will assured- 
 ly gain him. A soft answer turneth wrath ; and 
 the most effectual way to overcome evil is by 
 good. If he is otherwise disposed, the wisest 
 treatment is silence and contempt ; for surely 
 it cannot be incumbent on a man of worth and 
 respectability to enter the list of contention with 
 any worthless and abandoned character who 
 chooses, by insolence and abuse, to provoke his 
 resentment. A prudent and peaceable man 
 has nothing to dread even from the insolent 
 and overbearing. They will either be dis- 
 armed by forbearance, or they will reap the 
 contempt and detestation of the world for their 
 pains. It is by pride that contention cometh. 
 If a man, indeed, be himself quarrelsome and 
 contentious, if his own manners be rude, of- 
 fensive and overbearing ; if he tarry long at 
 the wine, and then have wo, sorrow, conten- 
 tions, babblings, and wounds without cause, he 
 must extricate himself in the best way he can. 
 For the evil consequences of such conduct. 
 
SERMON XV. 313 
 
 religion prescribes no remedies because it ut- 
 terly condemns the conduct from which they 
 flow. 
 
 But who is he that will harm you if ye be 
 followers of that which is good. When envy 
 and. strife and wars begin, possess ye your 
 souls in patience. Ihe storm will soon be 
 over; and should the demon of revenge 
 come forth in the tempest, think it not incum- 
 bent on you to encounter him. It is not 
 honour which attends him, but some spirit 
 of darkness which counterfeits her likeness. 
 Walk on in the path of virtue, in the company 
 of the wise and peaceful. In this way you 
 will gain the favour of God and of man : and 
 the phantom which you dread has not the 
 smallest power to do you harm. 
 
 But the advocate for duelling farther says, 
 that, if this fair and honourable method of re- 
 dress be abolished, the consequence will be 
 continual assaults and affrays ; the strong tri- 
 umphing over the weak, and the streets night- 
 ly moistened with the blood shed by the as- 
 sassin*s dagger. Here at last the truth has 
 come out. It is a spirit of revenge, which 
 prompts men to engage in duels, and if denied 
 gratification in this way, it will vent itself in 
 
 VOL. II. s s 
 
314 SERMON XV. 
 
 another. Such are the inconsistencies to 
 which the advocates of a bad cause are always 
 reduced. Besides, shall we vindicate one 
 crime by another still more unlawful. Be- 
 cause it is forbiden to murder, is it therefore 
 lawful to steal ? 
 
 But would the consequences predicted ne* 
 cessarily follow? One would suppose, from 
 the language of the duellist, that, if this 
 practice were abolished, all law, morality 
 and decency would be abolished together 
 with it. The strong might trample upon the 
 weak, if there were no laws to protect the per- 
 sons of every member of the society, and 
 no fear of God nor sense of religion to 
 check the violence of passion. And what 
 other security have we that the strong shall not 
 takeaway the property of the weak, that the 
 rich shall not oppress the poor, and the cun- 
 ning defraud the simple. Behind the shield 
 of religion and law the weakest member of 
 society may rest in peace and security. 
 Would assassination be committed ? But by 
 whom ? Not surely by the men of honour 
 and others who follow reason and religion as 
 their guides, and who know that such a crime 
 is in direct opposition to their laws, and is more- 
 
SERMON XV. 315 
 
 over followed by inevitable present misery, 
 and, unless repented of, by everlasting de- 
 struetion. Lei us, at any rale, not do evil 
 that good may come. Let us make an ex- 
 periment which an appeal to fact will fully 
 justify. For though the passions of men have 
 led them to commit foul and deadly crimes, 
 in all ages and countries, it does not appear 
 that assassination has been more frequent in 
 those ages and countries where the practice of 
 duelling was utterly unknown, than in the pre- 
 sent times of rehnement and honour. 
 
 In short, the advocates for duelling main- 
 tain that the practice has at least produced 
 in men a more delicate attention to tlie feel- 
 ings of each other, a greater degree of cour- 
 tesy and politeness of behaviour than were 
 known in former times. And for this shall 
 we sacrifice our principles, our religion and 
 our hope of heaven? But how does duel- 
 ling produce these effects, because the un- 
 civil, the outrageous, the abusive, may be 
 called to risk their lives in the field of hon- 
 our. Fear, then, is the principle in our 
 nature by whicii it operates. Without men- 
 tioning that this is the very princ iple, the im- 
 putation of which the duellist so much dreads. 
 
316 SERMON XV. 
 
 I shall only observe, that that politeness which 
 is the effect of fear and constraint, cannot sit 
 easy on a man, or be of much value. The 
 true source of politeness is a benevolent and 
 kind disposition. Where all is goodness with- 
 in, all will be gracious and obliging without. 
 We, Christians, know that politeness is an es- 
 sential branch of the love of our neighbour, 
 and that we are expressly commanded in the 
 gospel to be gentle and courteous. We per- 
 ceive also, in the intercourse of society, that 
 it is manifestly our interest to pursue that 
 course of behaviour which has a tendency to 
 procure us the good will and esteem of all 
 around us. Nor will we so far disparage the 
 blessed effects of our holy religion, or of the 
 progress of light and knowledge, as to allow 
 that a gothick, barbarous and inhuman prac- 
 tice is the sole or even the principle cause of 
 that superiour refinement of manners which 
 characterizes modern times- 
 
317 
 
 Morning and Evening Prayers used at the Or- 
 phan- House, Charleston ^ S. C, composed by 
 the Rev, Dr. Buist, for the use of the orphans 
 in that institution. 
 
 MORNING PRAYER. 
 
 Our Father who art In heaven, since thou 
 hast ordained praise out of the mouths oF babes 
 and sucklings, we now approach thee with 
 reverence and humlUty, to offer the homage of 
 gratitude and praise for the many mercies we 
 have received from thee, to confess our own 
 unworthincss and numerous faults, to make 
 known unto thee our various wants, and to pray 
 for those good things which are useful both 
 for the body and the soul. O thou who art 
 the Father of the fatherless, and who feedest 
 the young ravens, turn not away thine ear 
 from the supplications of those unhappy or- 
 phans who have no father nor protector but 
 thee. Good cause have we and all mankind 
 to magnify and bless thy holy name ; to rev- 
 erence thy power; to admire thy wisdom; 
 to fear thy justice ; to love thy holiness, and 
 
318 PRAYERS. 
 
 above all, to extol thy loving kindness and ten- 
 der mercies. We praise thee, O God ! for our 
 being, tor the noble faculties which thou hast 
 bestowed on us, for the many things which 
 thou hast given to make us happy, and for 
 the tender care and affection which thou hast 
 shown towards us ever since we came into be- 
 ing. Before our thoughts had learned to form 
 themselves in prayer, thou didst mercifully 
 lend an ear to our complaints and cries. 
 Even at this present time, though our ignor- 
 ance and inattention prevent us from perceiv- 
 ing thee, thou art our gracious guide and pow- 
 ful protector. Thy hand, unseen, perserves 
 us from a thousand dangers, calamities, and 
 temptations which would otherwise prove 
 fatal to our happiness and our virtue. We 
 humbly thank thee, that when we were desti- 
 tute and forsaken by our earthly parents and 
 relations, thou didst kindly and bountifully 
 open for us a place of refuge in this house. 
 We are grateful for the food which we eat, 
 for the raiment wherewith we are clothed, 
 for the air which we breath, and for the 
 health and happiness which we enjoy. We 
 praise thee for the means of improvement 
 which thou hast put in our power ; for the 
 
PRAYERS. 319 
 
 benefits of knowledge and the blessings of re- 
 ligion which thou hast conferred on us. We 
 do most affectionately, with all the powers of 
 our body and soul, thank and praise thee for 
 thy goodness to us and to all mankind, In send- 
 ing thy son Jesus Christ, not only to deliver us 
 from death and future punishment, but, by 
 his holy life and meritorious death, to procure 
 us a title to eternal happiness in heaven. We 
 sincerely praise thee that thou hast instructed 
 us in those things, and allowest us time and 
 opportunity to profit by them, while many 
 younger and more deserving than we, have 
 been taken out of the land of the living, and 
 deprived of all the means of grace and duty : 
 For we confess, O God ! that we have behaved 
 very ungratefully to thee in return for so much 
 goodness, and that we are altogether unworthy 
 of a continuance of thy favour. Conceived in 
 sin and brought forth in iniquity, we are natu- 
 rally prone to evil, and though nowenlightened 
 by reason and religion, we too often offend 
 thee m thought, word and deed. Deaf to 
 the instruction of our teachers and the voice 
 of wisdom, we have heedlessly run on in the 
 ways of folly, and proved disobedient children 
 to thee. But we beseech thee, O merciful 
 
320 PRAYERS. 
 
 God ! ,in the midst of wratli remember mercy. 
 For the sake of thy beloved son Jesus Christ 
 forgive all.our past foHies, and receive us into 
 thv favour and friendship. We are sinful, do 
 thou sanctify us. We are weak, do thou sup- 
 port us. We are ignorant, do thou instruct us. 
 Defend us from evil of every kind. Preserve 
 us now, and throughout life, in the paths of 
 righteousness, innocence, and peace. Enable 
 us by diligence and application to make due 
 progress in the several branches of education 
 allotted us. Teach us to behave with reverence 
 and obedience to our guardians and teachers, 
 and with humility and respect to all men. 
 Enable us to live in peace and harmony with 
 one another as brethren. Preserve us from pride 
 and vain glory; from cursing and swearing; 
 from cruelty, dishonesty, falsehood and covet- 
 ousness. O ! our Father, while not yet enslaved 
 by vice beyond the hope of recovery, or bur- 
 thened with the cares and evils of life, we would 
 in the morning of our days present ourselves to 
 thee and dedicate our lives to thy service. Ac- 
 cept the unworthy but sincere ojff'ering,and ful- 
 fil thy promise, that they who seek thee early 
 shall find thee. We return thee sincere and 
 hearty thanks for our preservation during the 
 
PRAYERS. sn 
 
 la«:t niglit, prcf^ervc us by ihy watchful provi- 
 drnce throughout the whole of this day of 
 which we have now seen the light. Let no 
 evil come near our dwelling. Let us be guil- 
 ty of no thought, nor word, nor action which 
 may give offence to thee, or prove injurious 
 to our fellow creatures. May we live in thy 
 fear all the day long, remembering that thy 
 eye is ever upon us, and that, though we 
 may conceal our faults from others, yet they 
 are all well knovvn to thee, our Maker and 
 Judge. May these, our sincere praise and 
 humble requests, find acceptance in thy sight 
 for the sake of Jesus Christ our Saviour and 
 Mediator, who has taught us thus to address 
 thee : Our Father, &c. 
 
 EVENING PRAYER. 
 
 Our Father, who art in heaven exalted far 
 beyond our comprehension, but who conde- 
 scends to dwell with those who are of an hum- 
 ble and contrite spirit ; we now appear before 
 thee to present our evening sacrifice of adora- 
 tion and praise. Thou art worthy to receive 
 all blessing and glory, and honour, and praise; 
 
 VOL. IT. T t 
 
32^2 PRAYERS. 
 
 for thou hast created all things, and for thy 
 pleasure and praise they were created. It is 
 thou, O God ! who causeth light, and again 
 spreadest darkness over the face of nature. 
 To thee we owe the constant return of day and 
 night, and the grateful change of the seasons. 
 On thy kind and protecting providence, we, 
 and all thy creatures, depend for nourishment, 
 preservation, and support. In thee we live, 
 move, and have our being. In thy hand is our 
 breath, and thine are all our ways. It is ow- 
 ing to thy goodness and forbearance, that we 
 have not long before now been counted with 
 the dead. Thy mercies are renewed every 
 morning, and thy faithfulness is manifested 
 every night. We praise thee, O God ! who 
 hast preserved us throughout this day safe from 
 harm and danger. If we have been happy 
 enough to make any improvement, to perform 
 a good action, or to resist a temptation, not unto 
 us but unto thy name be all the glory. But 
 alas! we fear that our time has been wasted in 
 idleness, or employd in sin and folly. We 
 deeply lament that we have done so many 
 things to offend thee, our Father, our preser- 
 ver and friend ; that we have lost so many 
 means of improvement and opportunities of 
 
PRAYERS. 32S 
 
 doing good. May tlie merits of our blessed 
 Saviour and Intcrcessour shield us from the pu- 
 nishment which we deserve. Let not the er- 
 rours of our youth, or the sins of our infirmi- 
 ties, be remembered against us. Grant us thy 
 divine grace to preserve us from tiie commis- 
 sion of sin in future, to instruct us in thy law, 
 to strengthen our good resolutions, and to keep 
 us in the way of righteouness, henceforth 
 even forever. In every case of difficulty and 
 doubt, do thou guide our wandering steps. 
 In every season of danger, be thou our guar-* 
 dian and defence. While we praise thee for 
 all the acts of mercy and kindness shown to 
 us during the day past, we earnestly beseech 
 thee to grant us thy protection during the 
 night which is to come. O Thou ! whose 
 eyes are ever awake to guard the just, watch 
 over us during the silent hours of the night, 
 and preserve us from every danger. Into thy 
 hands do we commit ourselves, and, as the day 
 is appointed for labour and the night for rest, 
 grant us sweet and refreshing sleep, that we 
 may awake in the morning with renewed 
 vigour to run our Christian race. Teach us 
 every night, when we lie down to sleep, to 
 commune with thee and with our own hearts. 
 
324 PRAYERS. 
 
 and to think of that period when we shall 
 close our eyes for ever to the light, and lie 
 down in the cold and silent grave. May such 
 thoughts lead us to a constant preparation for 
 our latter end, and enable us every morning, 
 when we awake, to renew the dedication of 
 ourselves unto thee, and to think of the mor- 
 ning of the resurrection, when we shall arise 
 from the dead, either to happiness or misery, 
 according as our actions have been good or 
 evil. O Lord ! we pray not only for our- 
 selves, but for the whole race of mankind. 
 May religion, virtue, knowledge and happi- 
 ness, be spread throughout the whole earth. 
 Bless the land wherein we live ; guide with thy 
 council and preserve by thy power, the rulers 
 of the nation, and give them grace to execute 
 justice and to maintain truth. Bless the min- 
 isters of religion, endow them with true wis- 
 dom and understanding of the truth, that they 
 may be able to save their own souls and the 
 souls of those who hear them. Bless all men 
 of whatever rank, profession or condition, and 
 make them useful to the advancement of thy 
 glory and the public good. Pour down thy 
 choisest blessings on our kind supporters and 
 benefactors. Bless, in a particular manner. 
 
PRAYERS. 326 
 
 our parents by adoption, the commissioners 
 of this house. Bless our teachers and guar- 
 dians, and grant, that all employed in this 
 house may discharge their duty with diligence 
 and fidelity. Bless and provide for father- 
 less children and widows, and for all that are 
 desolate and oppressed. Send relief to the 
 afflicted and distressed whether in mind, body 
 or estate. ** Fulfil now these our petitions, as 
 ** may be most expedient for us, granting us in 
 *' this world a knowledge of thy truth, and in 
 ** the world to come life everlasting," for the 
 sake of thy beloved son Jesus Christ, in whose 
 words we close our address unto thee, and 
 under whose care we would compose our- 
 selves to rest : Our Father, 6^c. 
 
 FINIS 
 
SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 A 
 
 James Ajicrum. 
 Charlotte Ann Alhton. 
 Sarah AUan^ 2 copies. 
 Mrs. Hannah Anderson. 
 Mrs. Eliza Akin. 
 William Ancrum. 
 Isaac An Id. 
 James Adger. 
 
 B 
 Rev. Nath. Bowen, 2 copies, 
 John Blake. 
 Charles Banks, 
 lion. Thomas Bee. 
 Jacob Belsen. 
 John Brozvnlee, 2 copies. 
 Benjamin Boj/d. 
 Jl . Bri/ce, 4 copies. 
 James Blair. 
 John Simmons Bee. 
 Mrs. Burnett. 
 
 JVilliam Blacklock, 2 copies 
 
 David Bell. 
 
 Major Samuel Beehnan. 
 
 John Bay. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan. 
 
 Miss Lynch Bowman, 
 
 Nicol Bryce. 
 
 Mrs. Susari Boone. 
 
 John Blackler. 
 
 Edm u n d B u tsf ord. 
 
 Elizabeth F. ^Blyth. 
 
 Elizabeth Broughton. 
 
 Miss Maria Bacot. 
 
 Angus Bethune. 
 
 jQhn Barrel i. 
 
 William Tlirnie. 
 
 William Boyd. 
 
 John Barron. 
 
 John Black. 
 
 liobert Brozi'fi. 
 
 James Bentham. 
 
 Isaac Ball. 
 
 Miss E. Bowman. 
 
 Hugh Bethune. 
 
 John Ball. 
 
 E. Bremar. 
 
 Thomas Brought on, jun . 
 
 Hon. Elihu 11. Bay. 
 
 Mrs. Mary Barksdale. 
 
 William Burgoi/ne. 
 
 John S. Brisbane, 
 
 Benj. Bailey. 
 
 Edward Bailey. 
 
 Mrs. Baron. 
 
 Miss J. Baron. 
 
 Alex. BaroHy ju7i. M. D. 
 
 Miss Baron. 
 
 Mrs. Blacklock. 
 
 John Bally jtni. 
 
 Jofiathan Beattu. 
 
 c 
 
 George Chisolm. 
 
 McMillan Campbell, Q, copies: 
 
 James Cox. 
 
 J. P. Carroll. 
 
 John S. Cogdell. 
 
 Dr. Robert Chisolm. 
 
 Alex. R. Chisolm. 
 
 Thomas Chisolm. 
 
 John Champneys. 
 
 Ale \a nder Christie-, 
 
SUBSCRIBERS^ NAMES. 
 
 Thomas Cochran. M. Drayton. 
 
 Charles D. Coolidge. Mrs. Jane De Saussure, 
 
 Charles Cunningham. Mrs. A. E. Dennison. 
 
 Esther Cheesborough. John Duffus. 
 
 Caroline Mary Cooper, Gilbert havidson. 
 
 Elizabeth Cuttino. Joseph Dulles. 
 
 Mrs. Ann Course. Mrs. E. Dodsworth, 
 
 Elizabeth Cox. Robert Dozenie. 
 
 Alexander Chisolm. Jacob Deveaux. 
 
 Joanna Christie. George Dagliesh. 
 
 John P. Cunningham. Alexander Douglas, 
 
 li. Cunningham. J. K. Douglas. 
 
 John Cunningham. James Drummond. 
 
 Mrs. Maria Cattell. Thomas Deas. 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Cruger. Mrs. J. M. Dart, 
 Hon. J^angdon Cheves, 3 cop. E 
 
 James M'Crackan. Isaac Edwards. 
 
 James Carson. Charles EdmondstoUy 3 copi 
 
 .John Crawford. Jane Ewing. 
 
 H. Courtney. James Ezving 
 
 Daniel Crukshanks. J. Ellison. 
 Mrs.AnnLoughtonCampbell. James Evans. 
 
 William Claris. George Edzoards. 
 
 George C. ClitheralL William Edings. 
 
 Rev. Joseph B. Cooh. A. Edzoards. 
 
 Thomas Clough. Alexander Ervin^. 
 H. Calder. F 
 
 James Clark. Timothy Ford. 
 Charleston Library Society, Henry Farmer. 
 
 2 copies. Mrs. E. Farr, 
 
 D John J. Forbes, 
 
 Frederick Dalcho, M. D. Ann Ferguson. 
 
 David Deas. Susan Eraser. 
 
 .Tohn Dazcsouy jun. James Ferguson, 
 
 Henry Deas. Alexander Forbes. 
 
 Thomas H. Deas. Frederick Eraser. 
 Hon. Henry W. De Saussiire, Mrs. J. Farr. 
 
 Alexander Don, Mrs. Freer, 
 
 Mark Duffy. John Fowler. 
 
 Jane Eliza Dill. Archibald Frezih 
 Mrs, Soplm DuKpb^ 
 
SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Harry Grant. 
 Mrs. W.H.Gibhes. 
 
 JVilmott Gibbes. 
 
 Rev. P. Gervais. 
 
 Theodore Gaillard. 
 
 OthnielJ. Giles. 
 
 Mrs. Man/ C. Gregorie. 
 
 Robert R. Gibbes. 
 
 Major Alexander Garden. 
 
 John Parker Gougli, M. D. 
 
 James Gordon. 
 
 James Gabeau. 
 
 James Gibson. 
 
 Archibald Graham. 
 
 A. F. Gregorie. 
 
 William Gordon. 
 
 William Gibson. 
 
 George W. Gough. 
 
 James Gregorie. 
 
 John M. Gilbert. 
 
 BenJ. Gray. 
 
 Hariott Horry. 
 
 Jane Hunter. 
 
 Nicholas Ha rl est on. 
 
 Edward Ha r lest on. 
 
 Thomas Hunt. 
 
 Thomas Horry. 
 
 Miss Juliet Hall. 
 
 John Howard. 
 
 Tucker Harris, M. D, 
 
 Mary Huggin. 
 
 Anne Henry cS' Son. 
 
 Mrs. Eliz.^Harth. 
 
 Robt. Mackeun Haig, M.D. 
 
 Leger Hutchinson. 
 
 George Haig. 
 
 William Hayne. 
 
 David Haig. 
 
 A. Henry. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 William Hall. 
 Andrezv Hannah. 
 Samuel Heron. 
 Thomas Higham. 
 James Hunter. 
 James Hamilton, '1 copia 
 George Hall. 
 John Haynsworth. 
 Mrs. L. llorry. 
 FJias Horry. 
 John Hume. 
 Mrs. Ann Hasood. 
 
 /. 
 
 Henry Izard. 
 Archibald S. Johnston. 
 Sarah Elliot Johnston^ 
 Anna Maria Johnston. 
 Mary Johnston. 
 Charlotte Johnston. 
 A nfia Johnston. 
 Catharine James. 
 Joseph JenkinSy sen. 
 James Jacks. 
 Mrs. Jennings. 
 M/s. Izard. 
 William James. 
 
 K 
 M. King. 
 Charles Kiddell. 
 M. E. Keith. 
 George Kenan. 
 Alexander Kirk, 2 copie^. 
 John Ker. 
 
 L. 
 Major Charles Lining. 
 Thomas Lozcndes. 
 James Lowndes. 
 James Lynah, M. D. 
 D. Leitch. 
 Ann Eliza Lesesne. 
 Ann Lesesm. 
 
 UU 
 
SUBSCRIBERS^ NAMES. 
 
 Janet Lamb. 
 
 Elizabeth M. Leger. 
 
 H. H. LovelL 
 
 Robert Lindsay. 
 
 David Lamb,jim. 
 
 Winborn Lazoton. 
 
 George Lockey. 
 
 Mrs. Mary Long. 
 
 Henry Lowrey. 
 
 Francis Stites Lightbourn. 
 
 Daniel Lowry. 
 
 Jona than Lucas, jun. 
 
 John Long. 
 
 Mrs. Ladson. 
 
 William Lanes'. 
 
 m: 
 
 John M^ Far lane. 
 WiUiam M' Elmoyle, 
 William M' CI are. 
 John G. Mayer, 
 John Mushett. 
 James M^ Adams. 
 Capt. Neill Mac NeaL 
 James Milter. 
 James Morrison. 
 Mrs. Mary Mazyck,jun. 
 Dugald M'Kinley 
 Miss Hannah M Kenzie. 
 Rev. Thomas Mills. 
 Ephraim Mikell. 
 Rev. Mr. M'Leod. 
 Ephraim Mikell, jim. 
 John J. Bl array. 
 John C. Mickell. 
 William E. Meggett. 
 William M'Criight. 
 Rev. Dr. Montgomery. 
 Mrs. Mathews. 
 Joseph Manigault. 
 William H. 'M'Call 
 John Mikell, sen. 
 
 S. Murky. 
 
 James Cannon Martindale. 
 
 Benjamin Moodie. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell. 
 
 Mrs. E. M'Call. 
 
 Robert Maxwell. 
 
 M. Mackay. 
 
 William Muir. 
 
 James Mackie. 
 
 William Sf P. P. Mazych 
 
 P. M'Owen. 
 
 William Monies. 
 
 Thomas Malcom. 
 
 Mrs. E. C. Mazyck. 
 
 Martha Ann M' Guy or. 
 
 Elizabeth S. M'Collough. 
 
 Eliza Martin. 
 
 Ann Marshall. 
 
 Joseph Manning. 
 
 John Mwphy. 
 
 Mrs. Ann Marr. 
 
 Mrs. Katherine Macbeth. 
 
 W. Milligan. 
 
 Mrs. Margaret Mitchell. 
 
 Mrs. Eliza Macjie. 
 
 Mrs. Catherine Munro, 2 cop. 
 
 Mary E. Marion. 
 
 Mrs. Ann Mac Cants. 
 
 George Macaulay. 
 
 Alexander M'Dozmll. 
 
 George Ma caulay,jnn. 
 
 Daniel Macaiday. 
 
 Samuel McCartney. 
 
 Thomas Milliken. 
 
 Archibald M'Lachlan. 
 
 J. Mair, 2 copits. 
 
 Samuel M'Neil. 
 
 S. M'Pherson. 
 
 David M'Credie. 
 N 
 
 Elizabeth Nozi^elL, 
 
SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Tin lip Nj/e. 
 T/iomas Napier. 
 Thomas Nau/or. 
 
 o 
 
 Lewis Ogier. 
 Thomas Ogier. 
 John Alex. Ogilvie. 
 David 0/iphant. 
 James O'Hcar. 
 
 P 
 Philip G. Prioleau, M. D. 
 Hon. John J. Pringle. 
 John Parker. 
 William Porter. 
 Marion Porcher. 
 Isaac Porcher. 
 Susan Porcher. 
 Branford Porcher. 
 Robert I. Pillans. 
 Willam Price. 
 John Potter. 
 E. M. Pringle. 
 Mrs. Mary Peters. 
 John Paul. 
 John Pratt. 
 General Charles Cotesworth 
 
 Pinckneif. 
 John Porteous. 
 Washington Potter. 
 John Patterson. 
 Miss Pogson. 
 Th Q mas Pa rker jun . 
 Joseph Pritchard. 
 John Porter, 
 William Pressly. 
 
 (I 
 Mrs. Quash. 
 Capt. Alexander Qu/Ji/. 
 
 R 
 Charles E. Rozcand. 
 .John lloberfson. 
 
 Frederick Rutledge. 
 Mrs. Hugh Rullcdgt. 
 David Ramsay, M. D. 
 Hi Ilia m liobertson. 
 G. Rendell. 
 II. Rolhmaholer. 
 Mrs. Sarah Russell. 
 F. Righton. 
 Robert Ruuand. 
 Sam. 6) Geo.Robertsmiy^ cop, 
 Samuel A. Ruddock. 
 John Ross, 
 B. D. Roper, 
 Hon. John Rutledge. 
 Peter Thomas Ryan. 
 Mrs. Rhind, 
 James Ray. 
 Col. Thomas Roper. 
 John Robinson. 
 S 
 William Simmons. 
 Thomas Simmons. 
 Thomas R. Smith. 
 J. Smith. 
 
 William Scot t, jun. 
 William Smith, Trad-street. 
 
 2 copies. 
 William Stewart. 
 H. Smith. 
 Mrs. Agnes Smith. 
 Robert Shand. 
 Jervis H. Stevens. 
 John Stock. 
 Charles John Steedman. 
 Whitcford Smith. 
 Charles Smith. 
 Maria Stone. 
 Elizabeth Shackelford. 
 Mary E. ShacklcJ'ord, 
 S. Sessions. 
 FJizabclh S?7iith. 
 
SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Mmy Spears. 
 
 Ho7i. Wm. Loughton Smith. 
 
 Ann Simons. 
 
 James D. Sommers. 
 
 Peter Smith. 
 
 James Scott. 
 
 William Smithy Elliss-street. 
 
 James Shoolhred. 
 
 Mrs. Jane Smith. 
 
 Mrs. Mary Shackleford. 
 
 Francis Simmons. 
 
 Richard Stiff. 
 
 Rosetta Sommers. 
 
 benjamin Smith. 
 
 William Seabrook. 
 
 Benjamin Seabrook. 
 
 Thomas B. Seabrook. 
 
 T. R. Shepherd. 
 
 Mrs. Keating Simons. 
 
 Rev. James Dewar Simojis. 
 
 John Simpson. 
 
 John Sanders. 
 
 T 
 Adam Tnnno. 
 B. F. Trapier. 
 Elizabeth Tobias. 
 Joshua W, Toomer. 
 Ebejiezer Thayer. 
 William Trenholm. 
 Eliza Trapier. 
 H. Tucker. 
 Thomas Tiinno. 
 Eliza L. Thomas. 
 Robert Telfer. 
 Bethel Threadcraft. 
 Mrs. Elizabeth fait. 
 Daniel Townsend. 
 Mrs. Tiddiman. 
 
 V 
 Miss Ann E. Fan Rhyan. 
 
 W 
 
 Gen. William Washirigton. 
 William Washington, jun. 
 Robert Wilson, M. D. 
 John Wilson. 
 Catheririe Webb. 
 Samuel Wragg. 
 Major John Ward. 
 Joseph Winthrop. 
 Robert Walker. 
 Mrs. Charlotte Waller. 
 John P. Wilhelmi. 
 William Watson. 
 John P. White. 
 Mrs. Sarah Waring. 
 Esther Ainslie Withers. 
 Mary Withers. 
 Ann Wagner. 
 Catherine M. Wilson, 
 Mrs. Pejielope Warner. 
 Samuel , Wilson, M. D. 2 co^ 
 
 pies. 
 James Wilson. 
 3Irs. Alison Williman. 
 MissH. Williman. 
 Morton A. Waring. 
 Thomas Walker. 
 Charles Watts. 
 Thomas Wescoat. 
 William Wood. 
 Joseph JVhaley. 
 Benjamin Witter. 
 Plozcden Weston. 
 William Walton «^ Co. 
 Alexr. B. Waugh, 
 
 Y 
 William Young. 
 .Jeremiah A. Yates. 
 Mrs. E. A. Yates. 
 W. Youngblood