\ r m '^^X'-} PIUXCETOS. y. J. No. Case, P'^'^°" Xo. She//. J\o. Boo/,', , c i-^n -f'. - t SOS THE BRITISH PULPIT CONSISTING OP DISCOURSES BY THE MOST EMINENT LIVING DIVINES, ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND: ACCOMPANIED WITH PULPIT SKETCHES: TO WHICH ARE ADDED, SCRIPTURAL ILLUSTRATIONS; AND SELECTIONS ON THE OFFICE, DUTIES, AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. REV. W. ^UDDARDS RECTOR or GBACE CHURCH P O 11 ADE 1 P H I A. SIXTH EDITION. VOL. I. NEW YORK: ROBERT CARTER, 58 CANAL STREET. 1844. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836 by in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania ■ TBBE0T7PBD BT L. JOHNSON, PHILADBLPHIA. INTRODUCTION, The editor of this work has been induced to enter upon its publi- cation at the request of several ministers and members of different denominations of Christians, who are desirous of increasing their knowledge of the productions of ministers of Jesus Christ in Great Britain. The original cost of English publications, the additional expenses of importation and duty, together with the difficulty of making a desirable selection, render the purchase of them, in many cases, altogether impracticable. To obviate this difficulty in part, at least with regard to sermons, this series of specimens of British preacli- ing has been commenced. How far it shall prove satisfactory, time must determine. The editor, in his selections, has not confined himself to any section of the Christian church, but has freely gone among all denominations who maintain the essential principles of the Reformation. This has been done to encourage a spirit of liberality, to induce the reader to approve and imitate every thing scriptural, holy, and excellent, where- ever it may be found ; and to show that while good and wise men may and do differ upon points which are minor in religion, they are still all agreed in the great leading truths of Christianity. It cannot be expected that the editor should be willing to be held responsible for every sentiment which the sermons may contain, ranging as he has done in his selections through so many denominations ; at the same time, it has been, and will be his constant desire and care to keep from these pages every thing that he conceives acrimonious in spirit, offen- sively controversial in character, or fundamentally unsound in doctrine. With perhaps half a dozen exceptions, all the ministers whose ser- mons are contained in this volume are still occupying scenes of useful- ness in the vineyard of the Lord. The prophets, however, do not live for ever : within the last three or four years Adam Clarke has gone to his rest ; Richard Watson has gained the prize ; Robert Hall has left his painful toil; William Thorpe is numbered with his fathers; and Joseph Hughes has slept in death. But the cause which they lived to serve and loved to advocate still remains ; and hundreds of Elishas are treading in the steps of these their departed Elijahs. May they be baptized with a double portion of their spirit. 3 4 INTRODUCTION. Of the ministers whose portraits accompany this volume, it is unne- cessary here to say much, as sketches of them, and many others, are given in this, or will be given in succeeding volumes. While Epis- copalians feel pleasure in knowing that the amiable, pious, devoted, and laborious Daniel Wilson is a member, a minister, and a bishop of theii' church, similar feelings of pleasure are doubtless experienced by Pres- byterians in their connexion with the talented Chalmers; by the ]Methodists in regard to the laborious and eloquent Newton ; by Bap- tists towards the (late) profound and pious Hall ; and by Congregation- alists over the liberal and polished Raffles. Any of them would be an honour to any country, to any age, or to any Christian denomination. The zeal of our British brethren in the cause of missions, and their mode of bringing its claims prominently and frequently before the people of their charge, is seen in many of the sermons in the present volume ; and the hope is indulged that the exhibition may be encou- raging to such among ourselves as are arousing themselves to this work, and cheering to those who for years have been actively devoted to it. The emigrant from Britain may probably find on these pages ser- mons by men under vv^hose ministrations he sat when in his native land. They will remind him of scenes which neither time nor dis- tance can obliterate from his mind, and will convey to him the pleasing tidings that the doctrines of the New Testament continue to be preached in their freeness and fulness, in that land where so many of his kindred still reside. Some of the following discourses have been taken down by the "pen of the ready writer" at the time of delivery ; others of them have been published by their respective authors ; but not knowing in every case which came under the former class, no distinction has been made. From the editor's acquaintance with many of the ministers of the gos- pel in Great Britain, and the arrangements which he has made for a supply of proper materials for such a work, he hopes to present suc- ceeding volumes, should the sale of the present justify a continuance of the publication, with increased claims to the favourable regard of the Christian community in the United States. To facilitate the labour of reference, two indexes will be prefixed to each volume, the first giving the name of each minister, in alphabetical order, the subject of his sermon, and a reference to the page on which it begins; the second, an arrangement of the texts, according to the order in which they are recorded in the Bible, with the preacher's name, denomination, and the page. To these will be added a table of contents, which will guide the eye of the reader to the various points treated on by the respective preachers. \thsologxg-^ /^ ■.'v INDEX I. ALPHABETICAL ARRANGEMENT OF PREACHERS. PREACHER. SUBJECT. PAGE Anderson, J., London . The Influence of revealed Truth 160 ANDERSOii, J., Helensburgh The Withered Leaf 497 Baird, G. H On the Judgments of God 293 ^Beaumont, J. E. . . . The Christian's Duty 353 Bennett, J To the Young 470 Benson, C The Resurrection of the Dead 339 BiNNEY, T The Madness and Folly of Religion . . . . . 314 Blackburn, J The Excellency of the Holy Scriptures 196 Brodie, R Christian Worship delineated 476 Brown, W The Cause and Character of Religious Joy . . . 409 BuDD, H Ministers, Ambassadors for Christ 330 Bunting, J Christ the Life of his People 120 Calcutta, Bishop of . A farewell Discourse 77 "^Chalmers, T. . . . * Immortality of the Soul 40 Clarke, A The inquiring Lawyer 429 Clayton, G The inconceivable Greatness and incomprehensible Goodness of God 489 CoLLYER, W. B. . . . Missionary Eiforts founded upon the Principles and Claims of Revelation 387 ^ Gumming, J The moral Influence we exert after Death .... 456 Dillon, R. C Life a Journey 373 Dixon, J Neutrality in Religion impossible 232 East, T.* The Progress of Sin lOS Farbar, A. E God's Care for his People 323 Fletcher, J The Glorification of the Word of God 185 Foster, J Living without God .... 173 a2 5 6 INDEX. PREACHER. SUBJECT. PAGE Grant, J The Glory of the latter House . ....... 34G GuNN, A The Duty of early Seeking Christ 380 Hall, R The Blessedness of Giving 178 Hamilton, R. W. . . Motives in Missionary Objects essential to Success . 90 Harvey, A Fidelity to Christ enforced 25G Hughes, J Resignation to the Divine Will 127 Irving, E The true Use of Knowledge 152 Jaries. J. a The Nature and Consequences of Impenitence . • 100 Jay, W The Sacred Oracles . . . • 238 Le Bas, C. W. . . . The Authority of Christ's Teaching 114 Lessey, T The Destiny of Man 21 G London, Bishop of . . The vicarious Sufferings of Christ 308 Macconnel, T. . . . The Nearness of Death 370 Melville, H The Power of Religion on the human Intellect . . 27 Newton, R Glorying in the Gospel of Christ 53 Noel, G. T The Example of the ancient Servants of God . . . 167 Parsons, J The Origin, Universality, and Consequences of the Apostasy of Man 67 Philip, R The Fulness of Time 402 Raikes, H An important Inquiry 436 Raffles, T Christ the only Way of Salvation 17 Sherman, J The Lepers of Samaria 444 Simeon, C, Christ's Invitation and Promise 250 Sinclair, J Moral Discipline 463 SoMMERViLLE, J. . . . The oiily Alternative 206 Styles, J On the Being and Perfections of God 281 Taylor, W. R. ... The Sword of the Spirit 483 Thomson, A The Character of religious Zeal 139 Thorpe, W The Prevalence of Infidelity and the Signs of the Times 2G5 Wardlaw, R The Influence of the Love of Christ 225 Watson, R The Testimony of the Spirit 299 WiLrJAMS, W. B, . . Ephraim's Idolatry and its Consequences .... 420 Winchester, Bishop of The Importance of true Wisdom . . . . . . 147 INDEX IT. BIBLICAL ARRANGEMENT OF TEXTS. TEXT. PBEACHEB. fAGI Deuteronomy xxix. 29. . . J. Anderson, Methodist 160 /oshua xxiv. 15 J. Sommerville, Congregational, 206 "V^ 1 Samuel xx. 3 T. Macconnel, 370 2 Kings vii. 9 J. Sherman, Con 444 1 Chronicles xxix. 15. . . R. C. Dillon, Episcopal. 373 Job xiv. 14 J. Hughes, Baptist 127 Psalm ii. 8 W. B. Collyek, Con 387 Psalm xii. 6 J. Blackburn, Con 196 Psalm xlviii. 14 J. Styles, Con 281 Psalm Ixiii. 1 A. Gunn, Presbyterian 380 Psalm cxiii. 5 — 8 G. Clayton, Con 489 Psalm cxix. 130 H. Melville, Ep 27 Proverbs iv. 13 Bishop of Winchester, j 147 Ecclesiastes xii. 7 T. Lessey, 3fe 216 Isaiah xxvi. 9 G. H. Baird 293 Isaiah Ixiv. 6 J. Anderson 497 Jeremiah xxxvi. 32. ... W. Jay, Con 238 Daniel ii. 44 W. Thorpe, Con 265 Hosea iv. 17 W. B. Williams, Ep 420 Hosea ix. 7 T. Binney, Con 314 Haggai ii. 9 J. Grant 346 Matthew v. 47 H. Raikes, Ep 436 Matthew vii. 29 C W. Le Bas, Ep 114 Matthew xi. 29 C. Simeon, Ep 250 Matthew xii. 30 J. Dixon, Me 232 Mark x 21 J. Bennett, Con 470 6 INDEX. TEXT. FUEACHEB. PAGE Luke ix. 62 J. Sinclair, Ep 463 Luke X. 25—28 A. Clarke, Me 429 John iv. 21, 23 R. Brodie 476 John xiv. 6 T. Raffles, Con 17 Acts viii. 39. . . . . W. Brown. . . . « 409 Acts XX. 35 R. Hall, Bap 178 Romans i. 16 R. Newton, Me 53 Romans ii. 5 J. A. James, Con 100 Romans v. 12 J. Parsons, Con 67 Romans viii. 15, 16. . . . R. Watson, Me 299 Romans xiv. 16 R. W. Hamilton, Con 90 1 Corinthians v. 14, 15. . . R. Wardlaw, Con 225 1 Corinthians xv. 3. . . . Bishop of London 308 1 Corinthians xv. 35. . . . C. Benson, Ep 339 2 Corinthians v. 20. ... H. Budd, Ep 330 Galatians iv. 4, 5 R. Philip, Con 402 Galatians iv. 18 A. Thomson, Fr 139 Ephesians ii. 12 J. Foster, Bap 173 Ephesians vi. 17 W. R. Taylor, Pr 483 Colossians iii. 1 J. E. Beaumont, Me 353 Colossians iii. 4 J. Bunting, Me 120 2 Thessalonians iii. 1. . . J. Fletcher, Con 185 2 Timothy i. 10 T. Chalmers, Pr 40 Hebrews vi. 12 G. T. Noel, Ep 167 Hebrews xi. 4 J. Cumming, Pr 456 James i. 15 T. East, Cm 103 1 Peter v. 7. A. E. Farrar, Me 322 2 Peter i. 6 E. Irving, Pr 153 Jude 20, 21 Bishop of Calcutta 77 Revelation ii. 10 A. Harvey . . 256 GENERAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS. Paje Affectix G ANECDOTE Richmond . . 369 Appeal to sinners Wilson . . 87 to the impenitent James, . 106 to the undecided Sommerville . , 209 to young men Binney. . 320 Antichrist, reign of. Thorpe . . 275 Ascension of Christ Joteett. . 204 Atheism, character of. Foster, . 174 character of Styles,, 2'iS in France Thorpe , , 266 demoralizing consequences of. Styles , , 285 the result of disastrous influences Styles . , 283 Authors, responsibility of. Cumming. 459 Bible, adivine revelation Irving.. 146 a written revelation Anderson . . 1 64 authority of the Blackburn. , 196 character and contents of. Biiiney. . 315 committed to writing J^y- • ^^^ confirmed by antiquarian research and philosophical discoveries. .Blackburn, , 201 destroyed by some Jay. , 240 enlarges the mind and strengthens the intellect Melville . , 28 has been wonderfully preserved Anderson. . 164 has undergone severe scrutiny Blackburn . , 199 influence on the intellectual, political, domestic, and religious condition of man Anderson. . 164 man's condition bereft of the Melville.. 37 not to love the — shows a want of taste, patriotism, and charity Jay. . 241 outlives the attacks of enemies Anderson. . 166 proper weapon to oppose error Taylor reveals mysterious and all-important truths Anderson sanctity of the Blackburn spirit in which to read the Collyer superior to all human compositions Melville, , 36 teaches ancient history Melville, , 29 the most precious gift of God Melville, the sword of the Spirit Taylor , Bigotry to be guarded against Brodie. Britain, accumulated guilt of Thorpe.. 270 Christian benevolence of Thorpe. . 274 Vol. I.— 2 9 487 161 197 151 36 487 481 10 GENERAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS. Paaie Christ, ascension of Joivett. . 204 a teacher Le Bas.. 114 atonement of. Dixon . . 233 a sufficient atonement for sin 475 cares for the bodies of his people Raffles . . 21 claims of, on man Harvey . . 257 design of his appearance on earth Philip . . 406 died for our sins Blomfield. . 309 divinity of, variously attested Rajffles . . 24 divinity of Wilson . . 86 divinity of. Dixon . . 233 form of appearance Philip. . 405 great mercy of. Wilson . . 85 justification through Bunting . . 120 mode of preaching Raffles. . 17 promises of mercy made by Simeon . . 253 sinners invited to Simeon. . 250 source of Christian graces and duties Bunting. . 122 source of ordinances and future glory Bunting. . 123 the only way to God Raffles. . 19 the soul's physician Chalmers . . 47 time of, incarnation Philip . . 402 Christian, adheres to the doctrines of revelation Harvey . . 259 avoids sin Wilso7i . . 278 conduct of the true Binney. . 319 maintains the honour of Christ Harvey. . 260 necessity of — consistency JVeivton. . 64 necessity of — consistency Biniting . . 126 necessity of — consistency Beaumont . . 361 places his affections above Beaumont. . 359 privilege to enjoy the witness of the Spirit Watson . . 301 required to pay his vows , Harvey. . 261 responsibiUty attached to — privilege Raffles . . 22 strives to attain great degrees of holiness Wilson . . 78 worship described Brodie. , 476 Christian benevolence a means of glorifying God Hall. . 179 pleasure arising from Hall. . 180 benefits of. Hall.. 180 resembles the benevolence of Christ Hall. . 181 connected with reward Hall. . 181 practical economy requisite to Hall. . 182 Christianity, doctrines of. J\''ewton. . 56 doctrines and duties of. Wilson . . 81 not Judaism Grant. . 350 Contrasts in man's future condition 428 Death, abolished by Christ Chalmers . . 43 certainty of. A7iderson . . 500 matter of anticipation Hughes. . 130 nature of Lessey.. 222 GENERAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 1 1 Page Death, nature of Anderson . . 49Q nearness of. JMaccunnel. . 371 of an aged believer Dobson, . 369 of the soul Lesser/. . 223 ravages of Chalmers . . 40 spiritual Parsons. . 72 should produce low views of earthly good Hughes . . 130 should stimulate to exertion Hughes. . 131 the result of sin Parsons .. 71 universality of. Parsons . . 72 Depraved heart the source of evil James. . 108 unwilling to receive instruction S^imner . . 148 Depravity of the times occasioned by the popular reading of the age East. . 109 by wicked associations Hast. . 109 by the theatre East.. 11" Duties to the afflicted Humphrey.. 126 Dying regrets Wardlaiv . . 119 Ephraim's idolatry Williams. . 421 punishment Williams. . 424 Ethiopian Eunuch Bro-wn .. 410 Faith, nature of Wilson.. 80 familiar illustration of. Cecil. . 383 Famine in Samaria Sherman . . 444 God, care for his people Farrar. . 324 goodness of, in nature Farrar. . 32.'^ inconceivable greatness of. Clayton . . 490 judgments of. JBaird. . 293 love of Waugh . . 307 spiritual nature of worship Brodie. . 478 unbounded goodness of. Clayton . . 49 1 Gospel, a system of remedies Simeon . . 250 contents of the Dixon . . 234 duty to spread the Raffl.es . . 26 energy of the, connected with prayer Fletcher. . 191 glad tidings Raffles . . 23 glad tidings J\''etut07i . . 54 motives of the JVe-wton . . 59 triumphs of the Raffles. . 25 triumphs of the Melville . . 27 triumphs of the JVeivton. . 60 triumphs of the Fletcher. . 188 universal adaptation of the JVeviton. . 62 Heaven, Christ the bliss of. Buntiiig. . 124 contrast between earth and Beaumo7it . . 357 degrees of glory in Bunting ■ • 1 24 exercises of. Beaumont . . 356 figures employed to represent Beaumont . . 355 12 GENERAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS. Page Heaven, friendships of. Beaumont. . 358 perfection of character in Bemitnont. . 355 Heathen, deplorable condition of. Hamilton , . 94 Impenitence, nature of. James. . 101 its occasional associations James . . 1 02 Infidelity, design of the advocates of Styles. . 281 fearful malignity of. Thorpe . . 268 inexcusable Thorpe . . 267 prostrated by Christianity Cohyer . . 387 various kinds of. Thorpe. . 266 Influence exerted after death Cummin,^. . 457 Irving — fall of the Rev. Edward Cummmg. . 460 Jesus vreeping J\Tason. . 177 Judgment, solemnity of the Harvey . . 263 Knowledge, connected with pure happiness Sumner. . 149 dangerous when unconnected with revelation JMelville. . 37 distinction between wisdom and Irving . . 153 man's preference to earthly Irvmg. . 159 often perverted and abused Irving-. . 156 parental feeling concerning religious Sumner. . 147 power and uses of. Irving. . 152 the strong desire of man for .Anderson. . 160 Lawyer's inquiry Clarke.. 429 Man, a compound being Lessey. . 217 averse by nature to religion Foster. . 280 changes when he becomes religious Hugties. . 129 depravity of Parsons. . 70 dissolution of his frame Lessey . . 219 forms false views Sumner. . 148 ignorant without the gospel Raffes . . 20 intellect associated with morals Melville . . 34 loves the present world Chalmers. . 44 loves the present world Lessey. . 216 miserable when left to himself. Williams . . 425 pardon oifered to Anderson . . 502 pristine condition Parsons . . 71 pristine condition Lessey. . 219 without God Foster .. 175 subject to bitter afflictions Anderson . . 499 unwilling to be reproved JVilliams. . 420 Mercy of God in redemption Parsons.. 174 Ministers, ambassadors — dignity of Budd. . 331 are watchmen on the walls of Zion 372 ascribe all success to God Parsons. . 329 charge, compared to a ship's crew Abb^ Jean . . 237 GENERAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 13 Patre Miiiisters, danger attends a lofty intellect dimming . . 460 popularity Cvmmiii^ . . 460 dignity of calling JValton. . 292 duties of. Binneij . . 316 endeared to their flocks U'avdlaw . . 220 exhibit their subject, not themselves Ec. Rev.. . 280 holy life important to Herbert . . 215 influence of. Binney . . 317 influence of, after death Cummin^ . . 457 instruct from house to house Sumner . . 184 preach Christ JVeiutoti. . 113 precepts to Garrick . . 462 responsibility of Reed. . 2.55 should aim to profit all Con. J\Tag. . . 224 should be above suspicion Le Bus. . 118 faithful to their Master Wardhiiu . . 228 prayed for Fletcher. . 192 willing to bear hardships Wardlmv . . 229 use scripture language Chalmers . . 255 to whom sent Budd. . 330 the servants of Christ Le Bas . . 117 wicked — a curse after death Cumming. . 457 Ministry, young men to be educated for the Hall. . 183 Missionary candidate 408 barriers to — success Raffles . . 24 character Melville. . 345 effort must be mingled with devotion Hamilton. . 94 party singularities to be avoided in — labour Hamilton . . 96 success to be followed up Hamillon. . 98 worldly excitement to be avoided in — eflbrts Hamilton. . 96 worthy of a generous confidence Hamilton . . 97 Missions, appeal to the friends of Colly er. . 399 deserve the support of the young Collyer. . 397 nobility of Hamilton, . 91 opposition to — on the decrease Hamilton . . 90 Money, axioms respecting 379 Moral discipline Sinclair. . 463 Paganism Watson . . 205 Parents' influence after death Cumming. . 456 Patience in suffering J^'oel. . 170 Paul a proud Pharisee before conversion J^'exvton. . 53 a fiirious persecutor Fletcher.. 185 converted to the faith Fletcher.. 185 minister and hero J^e~Mon. . 63 Penitence, genuine James.. 101 Press, mighty influence for good or evil Cumming. . 455 Prayer, connected with a minister's success ,'. Fletcher. . 191 honours the agency of (Jod . . , Fletcher. . 190 importance of Foster.. 119 B 14 GENERAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS Page Prayer, true character of. Wilson. . 83 Providence, recognition of. Foster . . 75 Pulpit Gallery, I. Rev. T. Chalmers 50 11. J. Parsons, York 75 III. (late) J. Fletcher, vicar of Madeley 88 IV. (late) Bishop Latimer 107 V. Timothy East, Birmingham 112 VL (late) Robert Hall 137 VIL (late) Bishop Wilson 138 Vm. Hon. and Rev. G. T. Noel 172 IX. Joseph Fletcher, D.D., Stepney 195 X. William Jay, Bath 248 XL (late) Henry Martyn 307 Xn. Thomas Raffles, D.D., Liverpool 367 XIIL W. Bengo Collyer, D.D 400 XIV. Robert Philip, Maberly chapel 407 Religion, comforts of Soimnerville . . 214 danger of delaying attendance to Sotmnerville. . 212 demands the homage of the mind Le Jias . . 116 insufficiency of natural Collyer. . 395 more than amiability of character Bennett. . 473 natural Wilson. . 81 neutrality impossible in Sommerville . . 207 presents great subjects to the mind JMelville. . 34 strengthens the powers of the mind JMelville. . 32 Resurrection, a pure doctrine of revelation Benson . . 339 great change at the Benson . . 342 instantaneous and universal Benso7i. . 340 influence of the doctrine Benson . . 344 re-union of good men in the Hall. . 99 Rousseau and Byron Chalmers . . 39 Saints, example of the ' JVoel. . 169 trial of ancient JK'oel. . 167 Satan to be resisted by the Word of God Taylor. . 485 the service of Soinmerville . . 208 Sin, beginnings of East. . 108 diffusion of Parsons. . 69 origin of Parsons. . 68 progress of East. . 110 punishment of, duration and nature James. . 104 justice and proportion of 105 when inflicted 103 Souls perishing Sher7nan. . 453 Spirit of bondage and adoption Watson. . 300 Temple, dedication of -. Grant. . 347 greater glory of the latter Grant. . 348 Temptation to be resisted East. . 112 Tilfeiias, reflections at Joivett, . 321 GENERAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 15 Vase Trinity, doctrine of the Wilson . . 86 Tract, benefit of a religious Parsons. . 443 Trumpet — the executioner's 159 War, horrors of Colltjer. . 146 Whitfield's preaching Htme. . 113 Youth, favourable to religion Bennett. . 471 Zeal, religious, should be conscientious Thomson. . 139 intelligent Thomson . . 149 prudent Thomson , . "1 62 consistent with moral integrity Thomson . . 143 under the influence of charity Thomson .. 144 There stands the messenger of truth ! there stands The legate of the skies ! his theme divine, His office sacred, his credentials clear. By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet As angels use, the gospel whispers peace. Cowper. The Pulpif, whether we view it with the eye of the Legislator watching foi the welfare of the state; of the Learned, jealous for public science and taste; of the Moral Philosopher, anxious for the virtue of the community; or of the devout Chris- tian, weighing every thing in the balance of eternity ; — the Pulpit must, in every light, appear an object of vast importance. — Eclectic Review. The pulpit has spoken all languages, and in all sorts of style. It has partaken of all the customs of the schools, the theatres, and the courts of all the countries where it has been erected. It has been a seat of wisdom, and a sink of nonsense. It has been filled by the best and the worst of mei*. It has proved in some hands a trumpet of sedition, and in others a source of peace and consolatiofi. But on a fair balance, collected from authentic history, there would be no proportion between the benefits and the mischief Avhich mankind have derived from it ; so much do the advantages of it preponderate ! In a word, evangelical preaching has been, and yet continues to be, reputed foolishness, but real wisdom, a wisdom and a power by which it pleaseth God to save the souls of men. — R. Robinson. COLLECT FOR THE THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 0 Lord Jesus Christ, who at thy first coming didst send thy messenger to prepare thy way before thee, grant that the ministers and stewards of thy mysteries may likewise so prepare and make ready thy way by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, that, at thy second coming to judge the world, we may be found an acceptable people in thy sight, who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Araen. 16 THE BRITISH PULPIT. SERMON I. PREACHED ON BEHALF OF MISSIONS AT GREAT QUEEN STREET CHAPEL, LONDON BY THE REV. T. RAFFLES, D.D. LL.D. ^^ Jesus saith unto him, I am the xoay." — John xiv. 6. "Never man spake like this man," Such was the testimony of persons who could not, for a moment, be suspected of partiality, and who would never have uttered this eulogy if it had not been wrested from them by an admiration, the expression of which they were utterly unable to suppress. " Never man spake like this man;" and so you would have said if you had heard him preach. Never mortal had such doctrines to deliver, and never mortal taught in so solemn and im- pressive, yet so tender and affectionate a manner. The philosophers of antiquity — they only skimmed the surface of things ; they talked about the loveliness of virtue and the odiousness of vice ; they speculated about the immortality of the soul, and the life beyond the grave, and professed to look forward with mingled hope and fear to an hereafter concerning which none could speak with satisfaction or with cer- tainty. And as for the scribes and phari- sees, who sat in Moses's seat, they only sophisticated and polluted the purity of his morality by their adding to the cum- brous mass of rites and ceremonies, by which his dispensation was distinguished, innumerable traditions and enactments of their own. But this man — he went at once to the spring of action in the human Vol. I 3 heart, he unfolded the foundation of moral obligation in the bonds that bind the creature to the Creator. He taught the spirituality, and purity, and perfection ot the law of God. He threw a strong and steady light upon the regions of futurity, and surrounded his hearers with the dread transactions of the judgment-day, and the enduring realities of the eternal world. " Never man spake like this man." So Nicodemus thought, when, in reply to his complimentary address, he laid down the fundamental doctrine of his gospel, and said, " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." So Nathaniel thought, when casting at him his mild and pierc- ing eye, he said, "Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee." So Zaccheus thought when he climbed up into the sycamore tree, because Jesus was to pass that way ; and he turned unto him and cried, " Zaccheus, make haste, and come down; for to-day I must abide at thy house." So Peter thought, when he would have reproved his Master ; but the Lord turned and looked upon Peter, and said, " Get thee behind me, Satan : thou art an offence unto me ; for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those b2 17 18 THE BRITISH PULPIT. that be of man." So the scribes and pharisees thought, Avhen he took off the mask of hypocrisy by which they sought to impose upon the people, and exhibited their character in all its true, and odious, and disgusting colours, and thundered out the anathema, " Woe unto you, scribes and pharisees, hypocrites ! how can ye escape the damnation of belli" So Pilate thought, when in reply to his ques- tion— half, perhaps, in veneration, and half in scorn, "Art thou a king]" he an- swered, " Thou sayest that I am a king." Thou hast announced my true and proper dignity; I am a king; but my kingdom is not of this world. I lead no conquer- ing armies to the battle, I press not for thrones and palaces, through fields of car- nage, and seas of blood : " To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth." No matter where — no matter when — no matter what he said — whether in the temple, surrounded by the doctors of the law, hearing and asking them questions, or whether on the deck of the vessel, surrounded by the fishermen of Galilee ; or whether in the towns, and cities, and villages of Judea, healing the sick and raising the dead ; or whether at the tribu- nal of Pilate, the object of contempt and scorn — " never man spake like that man." There was a power, and an authority, and an influence in all he said that none could gainsay or resist. The grabbling scribes heard him, and they w^ere confounded. The haughty pharisees heard him, and they were abashed. The frantic demo- niac heard him, and he was still. The diseased heard him, and he felt impulses of health beat in all his veins. The dead heard him, and broke his silence and rose. " Never man spake like this man." And yet the power and authority with which he spoke was not that which thrones, and sceptres, and diadems could confer — it was not the power and authority of racks, and gibbets, and dungeons — it was not the power and authority of the princes and potentates of this world, who send their conquering armies to enforce their command, and hurl the thunders of their artillery against all who dare to resist their mandate. No ; but it was the power of light beaming upon the understanding — it was the power of truth making its way to the conscience — it was the power of God speaking to mortals by his Son. And though eighteen hundred years have rolled away since he exercised his per- sonal ministry on earth, and uttered the language of our text, yet, by the preach- ing of his gospel, he speaks to you this day, and he demands that the testimony he delivers shall be received alike in the understanding and the heart ; " I am the way." But what does he mean 1 — The way to what] — ^The way to whom? — In what sense is Christ the way 1 My brethren, to answer these questions shall be the scope of our present discourse ; and when I have put the answers in, I shall endea- vour to found some pleas on them for the great cause which we are to advocate with you this morning. This interesting declaration of the di- vine Redeemer occurred in the course of a conversation which he had with his disciples, in which he informed them of his approaching departure out of this world, his going to the Father, and that the world should see him no more. And he spoke as though he took it for granted that they perfectly understood his mean- ing, "Whither I go ye know, and the way ye know." But Thomas — who, more than all the rest of the disciples, seems to have been remarkably under the power of unbelief — Thomas said, " Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way!" We do not understand thy meaning; explain thyself; and let us know precisely what is the drift of thy discourse. And from this the Saviour takes occasion to speak of himself more at large, as the way, the divinely ap- N pointed way, the all-sufl5cient way, the sole, the exclusive way of a sinner's ac- ceptable approach to God, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no man Cometh unto the Father but by me." Thus you have a key to unlock the mean- ing of the Saviour in the words of the text, and thus you perceive the drift and scope of our present discourse. The language of the Redeemer, my CHRIST THE ONLY WAY OF SALVATION. 19 brethren, evidently implies thzt man, in his natural stale, is at a distance from God. Adam, in his primeval state of inno- cence and purity, needed no such way as this — he needed no intercessor between God and man, no mediator, no atoning sacrifice. He approached to God imme- diately, and communed with him without reserve, even as a man communeth with his friend. His spirit felt no dread, his heart was agitated with no terror; he heard the voice of the Lord God in the shades of the garden, in the cool of the day, and he flew with gladness to meet him ; for he recognised in its tones the voice of his best friend. Ah, how altered is the scene when guilt pressed heavy on his spirit, and shook him with dread fore- bodings of the wrath of an avenging God ! Then a sight was seen, and then a voice was heard, such as those peaceful and holy bowers had never witnessed before — the person of man fleeing from his Ma- ker's voice — and arrested by his Maker's call : " Adam, where art thou ?" And he said, " I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid." " Why afraid ]" " I hid mvself because I was naked." " Who told tTOe that thou wast naked 1 Hast thou eaten of the tree whereof I com- manded thee, saying. Thou shalt not eat of it; for in the day that thou eatest there- of thou shalt surely diel" And, my brethren, a similar conscious- ness cf guilt, a similar dread of punish- ment, has pressed heavily on every human spirit, from that period to the present hour; and man, in all his tribes, and through all his generations, in one form or other, has never ceased to utter this piercing cry, " Wherewithal shall I come before the Lord, or how shall I bow m}^- self before the high God ]" This is the language of the Jew, as he turns from his vile abominations and his inefficient sacri- fices. When rivers of oil have flowed, and oceans of blood have been shed — when the cedars of Lebanon have burned, and the cattle upon a thousand hills have been immolated — still he must inquire, " Wherewithal shall T come before the Lord V For the burden is heavy on his heart. This i> the language of the pagan, in his severe austerities and self-inflicted tortures, and toils, and pilgrimages, and oft-repeated prayers ; as he drops the san- dals from his bleeding feet, and as the lash resounds from his agonizing limbs — still he must cry, " Wherewithal shall I come before the Lord, and how shall I bow myself before the high God ]" This v is the language of the savage, in his dead- ly incantations at the shrine of devils. This is the language of the sage, in all his researches after wisdom, and in all his literature and philosophy. This is the language of the papist, in his penances and invocations of the saints — in his con- fessions and fasts. This is the language of the pharisee, in his close adherence to the rites and ceremonies of the particular church to which he may be attached. All utter one cry, all breathe one intense anxiety, all e:xpress one ardent desire ; and the desire seems intended to ascer- tain some principle — to devise some way by which the burden of guilt may be re- moved from the conscience, and man ob- tain pardon and peace with an offended God. But there is only one way, one all- sufficient way, one divinely-appointed way, and that way is announced to you in the text, " I am the way, the truth, and the life ; no man cometli unto the Father but by me." Will you allow me then, my brethren, by the induction of a few particulars, to en- deavour TO ILLUSTRATE THE ReDEEMEr's MEANING, AND SHOW YOU IN WHAT RE- SPECTS Christ is the way. 1st. Man being ignorant of God, Christ is the way — the only ivay — to an acquaint' ance, a sufficient acquaintance, with his character. " Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life : no man cometh unto the Father but by me. If ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also : and from hence- forth ye know him, and have seen him. Philip saith unto him (he caught at the language), Lord, show us the Father, and it sufRceth us. Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip T' Have I yet to tell you — have you yet to learn — that the fairest, the brightest, the loveliest, the most perfect exhibition of the character of God, is in my person, 20 THE BRITISH PULPIT- n my ministry, my miracles, my doctrines, my mediatorial work. He that hath seen me hath seen the Father ; and how sayest thou, then, " Show us the Father V In perfect harmony with this declaration of the Divine Redeemer is the language of St. Paul, when he says, " God, who com- manded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God." Where ] In the face of the sun, shining in the fulness of his strength ? — in the splendours of the starry firmament, in all the glories of a brilliant light 1 — in the pure face of nature, its vast and infi- nite varieties, the revolution of the sun, and the sweet interchange of day and night? No; but "in the face of Jesus Christ," " the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his per- son." And what, I ask, has man ever disco- vesed with accuracy, with certainty, of the character of God, apart from the reve- lation that Christ has made ] Has he ever discovered the unity of his nature, the immateriality of his essence, the uni- versality of his presence, the purity of his character, the rectitude of his government, the spirit of his law ] No ; never, never — he never has, he never will, he never can. Witness the ten thousand times ten thou- sand pagan deities — their gods of marble and of wood that croAvd the pantheon, that swarm in the mythology of the pagan world, wrought of materials the most base, and into forms and shapes the most monstrous, the most obscene, the most absurd, that man's polluted, degraded imagination can invent. Witness those wild, those horrible, those monstrous conceptions of the Deity, that scare the imagination of the wisest and the most venerable men ; and those deeds of dark- ness, of cruelty, and of pollution, which are perpetrated by man as a part of his acceptable worship, and as under his ex- press and positive sanction and command. Oh, when on these missionary festivals we tell you of the sad condition of the pagan world, and write the melancholy stories of their sufferings and their crimes, you can scarcely give credit to the recital ! But, you may be assured, my brethren, | that if you had never heard this teacher sent from God — if God had never spoken to you by his Son — if you had never seen the light of his glory shine in the face of Jesus Christ — and if you had never con- sulted these lively oracles, your concep- tions of the Deity would have been as gross, and the character of your worship would have been as horrid, as that of the pagans. 2d. Under the condemning sentence of God^s violated law, Christ is the way to reconciliation and to peace, hy virtue of the infinite merits of his atoning sacrifice. You may come to God without an atoning sacrifice for sin ; but, if you do, you may be crushed beneath the weight of his avenging arm, and withered by the light- ning of his indignation and wrath. The beamings of the Shechinah under the law, in the most holy place, were mild and gentle emanations to the high-priest, when he approached, once a year, with the blood of the appointed sacrifice ; but, if he had dared to come without blood, or with the blood of any other victim than that which was appointed for the purpose, the rash and impious mortal would have perished for his temerity, and tib She- chinah would have darted on him con- suming fire. Why else was the wretched Cain rejected, and given over a prey to the demons of remorse and despair 1 Why else did the earth open her jaws, and in- gulf Korah, Dathan, and Abiram? Oh, there is a justice to be satisfied — there is a justice to be satisfied, in the case of man, infinite in its requirements, inexorable in its demands! Every victim immolated upon the altar was only efficacious as it was offered up in faith on the great sacri- fice for sin. Of such magnitude was the offence that was committed, that there was only one victim that could meet the requirements of justice — the infinite, thw eternal Son of God. He was set apart, and set up from everlasting, both as the victim and as the priest. He was anoint- ed with the holy oil ; he arrayed himself in the garments of his priesthood — our degraded mortality — the vesture that was shortly to be dyed in blood. Amid the astonishment and the admiration of che- rubim and seraphim, and the morning CHRIST THE OWLV WAY OF SALVATION. 21 stars of light, he left the royal mansions of the celestial world, and came down to our polluted earth — he engaged in the functions of his priesthood — he pressed forward to the high object of Mount Cal- vary ; and there, nailed to the accursed tree, as a spectacle to angels and to men, bowed down beneath the mighty load of human guilt, he saw every type, every shadow substantiated — he saw every promise and every prophecy fulfilled — he saw every attribute of Deity harmo- nized and illustrated in the great scheme of human redemption he was dying to accomplish, and with the voice of God he cried, "It is finished! and gave up the ghost." And then the vail of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom by an invisible hand, to indi- cate that the way of access was opened to the eternal throne, that mortals, guilty mortals, might approach and live. " I am the way." 3d. Cut off from our inheritance in heaven, by reason of our apostasy from God, we have a glorious resurrection and eternal life by Chrisfs resurrection from the dead. When man rebelled, the gate of Eden was closed, and the cherubim, with a double flaming sword, was placed to guard the avenues to the tree of life, lest he should put forth his hand to eat, and live for ever. But, when Jesus died, eternal life was rolled back again, and the cherubim sheathed his double flaming sword in the Redeemer's breast. Hear him, brethren ; hear him, amid the ravages of mortality; hear him, amid the dying of your kindred ; hear him, amid the mel- ancholy symptoms of your own approach- ing decay; hear him and rejoice: " I am the resurrection and the life (saith the Lord) ; he that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : and who- soever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." "This is the will of him that sent me, that every one which seeth the Son, and believeth on him, may have everlasting life : and I will raise him up at the last day." The ashes of the saints, my brethren, are the care of Christ ; his eye is on their sleeping dust ; and whether they be scat- tered to the winds of heaven, to the re- gions of the untrodden desert, or to the summit of the inaccessible mount — or whether they lie deeply buried amid the abyss of the ocean — or whether they slumber peaceably amid the hum, and bustle, and tumult of the crowded city — not a solitary particle essential to the identity of the bodies of all his fol- lowers shall ever be lost; but he will guard it with a sleepless care, and the trumpet of the archangel will gather to gether again, by the magnetic power which first created the fair system of this stupendous universe, all the myriads of atoms of which this system is composed. How he will do it is a matter that never troubles me. 'Tis only a fool who asks the question, " How are the dead raised up ■? and with what body do they come I" If, my brethren, I had not seen the lovely and divine character of spring burst, as at the present season of the year, from the coldness and the torpidity of winter — if I had never seen the ripened harvest wav- ing in the wind, and waiting for the reaper's sickle, from the grain that was committed to the earth, and which, to all human appearance, had perished beneath the clod — if I had never lifted up my eyes to the starry firmament, and contemplated suns, the centres of other systems in mag- nitude and beauty far surpassing ours, all sprung into being by the fiat of God's will, and preserved in perfect order by the exercise of his omnipotence — if I had never contemplated my own frame — the curious structure of my own frame, so exquisitely wrought in the deep retire- ments of nature — if, in short, I had any doubt as to the divinity of Christ, or the being of Christ, I should look with trem- bling apprehension to the day of death and distressing anxiety to the promise resurrection morning. But, as it is, I know that he who built this body at first, can be at no loss for power to bring it again into loveliness and glory from the desolations of the sepulchre, and fashion it like unto his own glorified body, from the Avreck and ruin of the grave. Thus, my brethren, I have endeavoured to illustrate the Redeemer's declaration in the text, and have directed the atten- tion of this assembly to Jesus Christ as 22 THE BRITISH PULPIT. the only way, the divinely appointed way, of a sinner's acceptable approach to God ; but, ere I proceed to derive from the topic I have chosen an argument, an appeal, in behalf of the great object that now lies before us, may I be permitted — nay, in the faithful and conscientious dis- charge of the duty with which, as a preacher of the gospel, I am intrusted, can I do otherwise than pause, and put it to every man's conscience in this as- sembly, whether he has embraced the way thus consecrated for a guilty world, and, by faith in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, secured his own individual and personal acceptance in the sight of God ] My fathers and brethren in the ministry will, I know, justify me, and approve the course I take, when I say, I will not seek to move your sympathies in behalf of perishing millions in pagan lands, till I have first pressed the inquiry home upon yourselves — on each one in this congre- gation, Dost thou believe on the Son of God 1 No matter what thy age, thy sex, thy rank, thy station, thy condition in society. Dost thou believe on the Son of God] Is the mediatorial work of Christ the exclusive ground on which you build for eternity] If it be not, you must perish ; and your ruin will be the more tremendous by reason of the advantages you have enjoyed, the warnings and ad- monitions you have buried in oblivion, or the fair and specious profession you have made. Oh, it would have been better for you that you had never been born, or that you had been born in the rudest, wildest solitude of nature, where the name of Christ was never heard, where a Bible was never seen, where the foot of a Chris- tian missionary never trod, where the light of a sabbath, a Christian sabbath, never dawned, than that you should hear of Christ to despise him, and to reject him, and to trample on his blood : — for how can you escape ] I shall press the question. How can you escape] What mountain will cover you — what rock will crush you — what refuge will shelter you ' — ^what subterfuge will avail you] By what arguments will you triumph and prevail] "How will you escape if you neglect so great salvation]" Your lip must be sealed, and, in the silence of despair, you must listen to your doom, and receive your sentence, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels :" for " he that l)elieveth not the Son shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth on him." But our deep and profound attention, my brethren, is now demanded by a world lying in wickedness ; and we must address ourselves this day once more to THE GREAT ARGUMENT BY AVHICH WE STRIVE TO EXCITE YOUR SYMPATHIES, YOUR CONTRIBUTIONS, AND YOUR PRAYERS, IN AID OF THE MISSIONARY CAUSE. O how gladly would I retire from the service, the weight and the magnitude of which wellnigh overwhelms me, and lis- ten to the more powerful pleadings of some able advocate from among the many devoted and honourable men by whom I see myself surrounded. But I am here at your bidding, I cast myself upon his aid whose cause I dare to plead; and, resting on the thousand promises adapted to an occasion like this, I spurB with boldness the dark suggestions of despond- ency and unbelief. The time has gone by, my brethren, when any thing like novelty can reasona- bly be expected in a Missionary Sermon ; and I rejoice exceedingly that it has. The novelty of the subject has been for ages the scandal of the Christian church ; but that scandal has now, happily, been roll- ed away. Christians of every denomina- tion have become familiar with the mighty subject. It is no longer the matter of doubtful speculation, or of the divided opinions, that it once was. The army of the living (Jod is enrolled — it has become a living mass of the Lord's detachments — the troops have advanced far into the goodly land, and they have taken posses- sion of many fair and promising regions in the name of our Immanuel. And we, my brethren, who stay at home and watch for the issues, have only from time to time to recount to you the victories won by their peaceful armies, to beat up for fresh recruits, and levy new contributions on your willing benevolence and zeal. It is for this that you hold your annual festivals in this great metropolis, and we CHRIST THE ONLY WAY OF SALVATION. 23 in the distant provinces of the empire, and our brethren in every village, in every hamlet throughout the country ; — that as the pious Jews in ancient times strength- ened the bond — the .bond that was more than filial affection — to Jerusalem, by their annual visits to the temple, so we may rekindle our liberal zeal, and renew to one another the solemn pledge of de- votedness to this great cause; and year after year thus at the altar of God swear that we will not forsake it while there is a single human being upon the face of the earth who has not heard and wel- comed the glad tidings of salvation. The cause in which we are engaged, my brethren, is infinitely worthy of a de- votion like this, inasmuch as that every other to which men have consecrated their energies in comparison with it — I say in companson with it — I care not whether it be the cause of philanthropy, or the cause of philosophy, or the cause of patriotism — but every other in compa- rison with it dwindles in utter insignifi- cance, or is not worthy of serious consi- deration at all : for what is the body to the soul? — and what are the interests of an empire, and the passing, perishable, fleeting concerns of time, to the enduring realities of eternity'? Ponder, then, my brethren — ponder this day again the great object of missionary enterprise. Contemplate it as an object so simple that a child vuiy comprehend it — an object so sublime that the purest seraph that hums before the eternal throne would deem it his highest honour to be intrusted with the great commission, and tuould fiy with the rapidity of lightning to execute it. It is sirnply to preach the gospel to every creature. And what is the gospel it preaches ] I say its very name is glori- ous ; and, wherever there is a tongue to proclaim it, it must awaken emotions of the liveliest gratitude and joy. It is news — good news — good news to man — good news to all — good news to men sunk in ignorance and sin — good news from God. It is a proclamation of par- don from the King of kings to his rebel- lious subjects — from God to the human race; and the first sentence of the procla- mation is, " Let the wicked forsake his ways, and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." The chief excellency of the gospel, my brethren, is that it is precisely adapted to the condition and the necessity of man, under all the possible circum- stances of his existence upon earth. The state of the case is simply this ; every creature is in a condition to need the gos- pel, and the gospel is adapted to the con- dition of every creature. Every creature is guilty ; the gospel announces pardon. Every creature is ignorant; the gospel sheds the light of divine illumination upon the darkened understanding. Every creature is wretched ; the gospel directs him to the true source of felicity and joy. Every creature is polluted; the gospel unfolds a fountain open for sin and un- cleanness. Every creature is diseased, and dying from the dreadful malady of sin ; the gospel points to the true sove- reign balm — announces the balm of Gilead and the physician of souls. Hence, he who has it in commission to preach the gospel may ever be at work, and wherever he meets a human being, with that hu- man being he has to do. He has a mes- sage with him — he has a story of redeem- ing love to tell him ; and there is no exception at all, constituted by man"? colour, or kindred, or clime — his rank, or station, or condition in life. It ad- dresses alike the monk and the libertine — the widow in her cottage and the pea- sant in his barn — the criminal at the bar and the judge upon the tribunal — the philosopher in his studies and the poet in his reveries — the beggar on the dunghill and the monarch on the throne ; and he that rejects it does it at his peril ; its glad tidings must be welcomed, or the man must perish. Ponder, brethren, again, I beseech you — since how glorious is the message which I have to deliver to mankind — pon der the grounds of encouragement tvith ivhich you are presented in the publicaiio7i of the message to the world. They are so abundant that I scarcely know where to begin. In the first place, the preaching of the gospel is a divine institution. It ia 24 THE BRITISH PULPIT. not a human device ; the language of the Saviour is most distinct and unequivocal : " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." This is enough for us ; we want no more than this. With this assurance we can meet the sneer of contempt, the serpent of ma- lignitj', and the loud laughter of derision. We know that the instrument is mean, and in itself altogether inadequate. We know that it is an earthly vessel, in which the heavenly treasure is contained. We wonder not that the wise and pru- dent of this world account it the foolish- ness of preaching. But if the instrument were even meaner than it is, and God still condescended to employ it, he could make it mightier than all the influence that maybe exerted against it, and demon- strate, in a way the most humbling to the pride of man and degrading to human glory, that the foolishness of God is wiser than man, and the weakness of God stronger than man. Ponder again the dignity and glory of HiiH in whose cause you are engaged, and hy ivhose auihority you ad. It was in immediate connexion with this great com- mission that the Redeemer declared, "All pov/er is given to me in heaven and in earth." And it was not a vain boast. Witness the credentials with which he was furnished, and the many proofs he had of the divinity both of his person and of his mission. Three times was it attested by a voice from heaven : once at his baptism, when the heavens opened, and the Spirit descended like a dove and rested upon him ; once at his transfigura- tion, when the displays of his godhead beamed so glorious through the veil of his humanity, that the disciples were enraptured, and wist not what to say; and once, when so terrible was the voice, that some said it thundered, and others that an angel spake. Do you want fur- ther proof? See him imparting the light of day to the sightless eyeball, giving tone and vigour to palsied limbs, ejecting demons from their distressed victims, stilling the furious tempests, and raising the dead ; and even in the season of his deepest ignominy and extremest suffer- ing, when he bled in agony upon the ac- cursed tree, the heaving of the solid ground, as in the throes of an untimely birth — the darkened heavens at high noon — the rending of the rocks — the raising of the dead, proclaiming him to be the Son of God. But it was only for a sea- son that he bowed to the empire of death, and condescended to remain a captive in the grave. He burst the bars of the tomb ; it was not possible that he could be holden of them ; and he rose to ascend up on high. Amid the greetings and shoutings of cherubic and seraphic attend- ants, and the morning stars of light and glorified spirits of the just made perfect, he entered the celestial world, and took his seat at the right hand of God, and grasping the sceptre of universal empire — his double right, by creation and by his blood — he sways it over, and is over- ruling continually the aifairs of this infe- rior world, that he may establish the security of his church, accomplish her destined trophies, and set up his throne in the hearts of the millions, the countless millions, he has ransomed in his blood. The success, my brethren, which has already accompanied the preaching of the gospel, a?id the trophies luhich the cause of Christ has hitherto achieved, furnish aiwther ground of confidence in connexion with the missionary enterprise. That there are difficulties we are quite ready to acknow- ledge ; we are by no means anxious to conceal them, as it respects their number or their magnitude. W^e know something of the obstinacy and perverseness of the human heart — something of its deep- rooted and bitter malignity against God — something of its decided and desperate hostility to every thing that is pure and holy ; we know something of the terrific forms which this bitter enmity assumes in pagan lands ; something of the inve- teracy of habit; something of the power of a system, whose institutions and whose principles are wrought in the very texture and frame-work of society ; and we know how hopeless would be the eflfort to undermine and overthrow this state of things, so firmly settled, so deeply rooted, by the mere eflTort of human ingenuity, of human skill, or by an arm of flesh. While, however, the CHRIST THE ONLY WAY OF SALVATION. 25 statesman and the philosopher pour con- tempt on our undertaking, and regard it as the extreme of fanaticism and folly, we occupy ground on which they never stood, and we have resources at our com- mand on which they never calculated. Is any thing too hard for the Lord 1 " Who art thou, 0 great mountain 1 Be- fore Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain." Only admit that the cause is God's, and that the arm of Omnipotence is guaranteed on its behalf, and all our fears are given to the winds. He may indeed, for the trial of our faith, and the exercise of our patience, in the accom- plishment of his purposes, seem to delay ; but though it should ever be remembered that one day is with the Lord as a thou- sand years, and a thousand years as one day ; though in a manner to humble our pride, and to convince us that in this great undertaking our confidence must be reposed exclusively in him, he may suf- fer us sometimes to endure disappoint- ment, )'et, as to the final issue, we can no more doubt than we can doubt the return of the seasons, or the rising of the morrow's sun. Men talk about the mighty fabric of eastern superstition, and about the power of prejudices, and about the fascinations of caste, as though these things were omnipotent, — and to mere human strength they are ; but mighty as is the fabric, though it be consummated and cemented by the veneration and prac- tices of ages and generations, and though it be deeply rooted in all the natural appe- tites and passions of the human breast, yet, if God put his hand to the work, and employ his almighty power, "The strong shall be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark; and they shall both burn together, and none shall quench them." There is no species of opposition, my brethren, over which the gospel has not already triumphed, and over which it is not still destined to triumph. Can you conceive of difficulties more formidable than those which pressed around it in the first age of Christianity. All the rank, learning, power, influence, eloquence, wisdom, and philosophy of the world were overthrown by it, though its abet- tors, its supporters — the first heralds of Vol. L— 4 salvation — were the meanest and the most despised among men ; fishermen, tax- gatherers, tent-makers. Against them power lifted up her arm, and authority promulgated her edicts ; bigotry mustered her hosts — intolerance pointed her enmity —persecution opened her dungeons, forged her fetters, reared her gibbets, kindled her fires ; and yet — at the peril of imprison- ment and death, at the risk of all that men are accustomed to hold dear — these devoted servants of the cross went forth : they scattered the seed of the kingdom ; they nourished the seed they scattered with their blood ; it was rendered, by an influence from heaven, prolific ; and, growing a very great tree, it speedily filled the earth with its foliage and the luxuriousness of its fruit. And hear, my brethren, — hear the pledge and promises of those triumphs which the gospel is yet destined to achieve, and which it must achieve, ere the predictions of ancient times are accomplished ; that the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea. Then, Juggernaut shall bow before the cross ; then, the Shasters of the Brahmin, and the Koran of Maho- met, shall be torn in pieces, and their fragments scattered to the wind. Then, every pagan idol, every pagan altar, every Mahometan delusion, every popish su- perstition, shall be crushed beneath the wheels of the triumphant car. Then, the cities of Pekin and Canton shall send forth their teeming populations to bid the Saviour welcome. Myriads of voices in heaven shall respond to myriads on earth ; and the anthem shall be heard like mighty thunder rolling the universe of God, " Hallelujah, hallelujah ! the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth !" Visions of glory ! Bright anticipations of the future ! Shall they ever be realized 1 They shall, they must. God hath spoken it, and he cannot lie ; and to the declaration he has set the seal of an oath ; and, because he can swear by no greater, he has sworn by himself, saying, " Surely every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue confess that I am God." Must I plead, and must I plead with you this great cause 1 Let your count©- 26 THE BRITISH PULPIT. naaccs respond. Tell me, do you need argument to convince you, and strong appeals to excite you ] Are you not con- scious of the miseries of millions of your species — millions sunk in all the degra- dation of paganism, wallowing in its pollution, and agonized by its tortures 1 Must I appeal to you on the principles of common humanity? If this be the bread of life that is to feed a starving world — if this be the sovereign balm that is to heal and to sooth the moral maladies and wounds that infect our nature — if this be the only light that can conduct man through the darkness of this world to climes of felicity and bliss beyond the grave, can you have it, and the power to impart it — and imparting it to others will by no means impoverish yourselves — I say, where is your claim to a spark of com- mon humanity if you can withhold your hand, monopolize the precious boon, and let others perish in moral want ] I appeal on the ground of common justice. I do not merely appeal to you on principles of benevolence, to move you by the multi- plicities of their miseries, but I plead upon the ground of common justice. It is a debt you owe to the world. "I am a debtor, says the apostle, both to the Greeks and to the barbarians ; both to the wise and to the unwise ;" and you are as much a debtor as he could be. God gave you not this book that you might mo- nopolize it, and the gospel, that you might press it to your bosom in your self- ishness and solitude, and thus steal to heaven alone. jVo ; but he gave you this book in 'commission, in trust, tliat you might give it to others ; and he sent you the gospel, that, having drank yourselves deep and refreshing draughts of the cup of life, you might hand it round to the perishing millions that are within your reach. And is there a man — nay, is there a creature that calls himself a man, for I will not designate him so — in this assem- bly, who will rise up and ask, " Who is my neighbour, and who is my brother ]" Every man — every man, whether his skin is black or white — whether he speaks your language, or one you cannot comprehend — whether he dwells here or at the antipodes — I say, every man is your brother and your neighbour, and if you can reach him, and enlighten him, and save him, can you refuse to do it? If you do, God will plead against you — will take the injured brother's part ; for the voice of his blood will cry to heaven against you from the ground. Go, I beseech you, and be prompt and liberal in what you do this day. Time is rolling rapidly on ; men are perishing every moment in ignorance ; zealous mis- sionaries need supplies, and the wants of a perishing world need to be satisfied ; and we look to your benevolence and zeal that their cry may be answered, " Come over and help us!" I cease to plead: let the collection now be made. Arise, 0 God, AND PLEAD THINE OWN CAUSE ! SERMON II. THE POWER OF RELIGION ON THE HUMAN INTELLECT BY THE REV. H. MELVILL, M.A. LATE FELLOW AND TUTOR OF ST. PETEr's COLLEGE, CAMBRIUGE, AND MINISTER OB" CAMDEN CHAPEL, CAMBERWELL. " Th.c entrance of thy viords giveth light; it giveth understanding to the simple."- Psalm cxix. 130. There is no point of view under which the Bible can be surveyed, and not com- mend itself to thinking minds as a won- derful book, and a precious. Travelling down to us across the waste of far-off centuries, it brings the history of times which must otherwise have been given up to conjecture and fable. Instructing us as to the creation of the magnificent uni- verse, and defining the authorship of that rich furniture, as well material as in- tellectual, with which this universe is stored, it delivers our minds from those vague and unsatisfjang theories which reason, unaided in her searchings, pro- posed with respect to the origin of all things. Opening up, moreover, a sub- lime and simple system of theology, it emancipates the world from degrading superstitions, which, dishonouring Deity by the representations propounded of his character, turn vice into virtue, and so banish what is praiseworthy from human society. And thus, if you kept out of sight the more important ends subserved by the disclosures of the Bible, there would be no single gift for which men stood so indebted to the Almighty as for the reve- lation of himself in the pages of Scripture. The great engine of civilization is still the written word of the Most High. And if you visit a tribe of our race in the low- est depths of barbarism, and desire to bring up the debased creatures, and place them on their just level in the scale of existence, it is not by the enactments of earthly legislation, any more than by the tyrannizings of earthly might, that you may look to bring speedily round the wished-for result. The effective machi- nery is Christianity, and Christianity alone. Propagate the tenets of this reli- gion, as registered in the Bible, and a mighty regeneration will go out over the face of the long degraded community. We need hardly appeal, in proof of this assertion, to the records of the effects of missionary enterprise. You are all aware that, in m.any instances, a great change has been wrought, by the labours of faithful and self-denying men, on the savage clans amongst which they have settled. We omit, for the present, the incalculable advantages consequent on the introduction of Christianity, when another state of being is brought into the account. We consider men simply with respect to their sojourning upon earth; and we contend that the revolution effect- ed in temporal affairs should win, even from those who prize not its disclosures in regard to eternal, the warmest admira- tion for the Bible. There has succeeded to lawlessness and violence, the beautiful scenery of good order and peace. The rude beings, wont to wander to and fro, alternately" the prey and the scourge of neighbouring tribes, have settled down to the quiet occupations of industry ; and gathering themselves into villages, and plying at the businesses of handicraft or agriculture, have presented the aspect of a well-disciplined society in exchange 27 THE BRITISH PULPIT for that of a roving and piratical horde. And w^n a district which has heretofore, both 'iSlally and physically, been little better th'^ a desert, puts forth, in all its outspread, the tokens of a vigorous cul- ture, and the sabbath-bell summons from scattered cottages a smiling population, linked together by friendship, and happy in all the sweetnesses of domestic charities ; why, the infidel must be something less than a man, if, with all his contempt for the Bible as a revelation from God, he refuse to admire and esteem it as a noble engine for uplifting humanity from its deep degradations. But we wish rather to draw off your thoughts from what the Bible has done for society at large, and to fix them on what it effects for individuals. It fol- lows, of course, that, since society is the aggregate of individuals, what the Bible does for the mass is mainly the sum of what it does separately for the units. An effect upon society presupposes an effect on its component members in their in- dividual capacities ; it^ being impossible that the whole sho,uld be changed except by the change of its parts. Now we are persuaded, that there is no book, by the perusal of which the mind is so much strengthened, and so much enlarged, as it is by the perusal of the Bible. We deal not yet with the case of the man who, being under the teachings of God's Spirit, has the truths of revelation opened up to him in their gigantic and overwhelming force. We shall come afterwards to the consideration of the circumstances of the converted; we confine ourselves, for the present, to those of the unconverted. We require nothing but an admission of the truth of Scripture ; so that he who reads its decla- rations, and statements, receives them as he would those of a writer of acknow- ledged veracity. And what we contend is, that the study of the Bible, even when supposed without influence on the soul, is calculated, far more than any other study, to enlarge the mind, and strengthen the intellect. There is nothing so likely to elevate, and endow with new vigour, our faculties, as the bringing them into contact with stupendous truths, and the setting them to grasp and measure those truths. If the human mind grow dwarf- ish and enfeebled, it is, ordinarily, be- cause left to deal with common-place facts, and never summoned to the eflfort of taking the span and altitude of broad and lofty disclosures. The understanding will gradually bring itself down to the dimensions of the matters with which alone it is familiarized, till, having long been habituated to contracting its powers, it shall lose, wellnigh, the ability of ex- panding them. But if it be for the enlargement of the mind, and the strengthening of its facul- ties, that acquaintance should be made with ponderous and far-spreading truths, it must be clear that knowledge of the Bible outdoes all other knowledge in bringing round such result. We deny not that great effects may be wrought on the pea- santry of a land by that wondrous diffu- sion of general information which is now going forM'ard through the instrumentality of the press. It is not possible that our penny magazines should be carrying to the workshop of the artisan, and the cot- tage of the labourer, an actual library of varied intelligence, without producing a universal outstretch of mind, whether for good, or whether for evil. But if a popu- lation could be made a Bible reading population, we argue that it would be made a far more thinking, and a far more intelligent population, than it will ever become through the turning its attention on simplified sciences, and abbreviated histories. If I desired to enlarge a man's mind, I should like to fasten it on the truth that God never had beginning, and never shall have end. I would set it to the receiving this truth, and to the grap- pling with it. I know that, in endeavour- ing to comprehend this truth, the mind will be quickly mastered, and that, in attempting to push on to its boundary lines, it will fall down, wearied with tra- vel, and see infinity still stretching be- yond it. But the effort will have been a grand mental discipline. And he who has looked at this discovery of God, as made to us by the word of inspiration, is likely to have come away from the con- templation with his faculties elevated, and, THE POWER OF RELIGION ON THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 20 at the same time, humbled ; so that a vigour, allied in no degree with arrogance, will have been generated by the study of a Bible truth ; and the man, whilst strengthening his mind by a mighty ex- ercise, will have learned the hardest, and the most useful, of all lessons, that intel- lect is not omnipotent, but that the great- est wisdom may be, oftentimes, the know- ing ourselves ignorant. We are not, you will observe, referring to the Bible as containing the food of the soul, and as teaching man what he must learn if he would not perish everlastingly. We are simply arguing that the bringing men to study the Bible would be the go- ing a vast deal further towards making them strong-minded, and intellectual, than the dispersing amongst them treatises on all the subjects which philosophy em- braces. The Bible, whilst the only book for the soul, is the best book for the in- tellect. The sublimity of the topics of which it treats; the dignified simplicity of its manner of handling them; the nobleness of the mysteries which it de- velopes ; the illumination which it throws on points the most interesting to creatures conscious of immortality; all these con- spire to bring round a result which we insist upon as actual and necessary, namely, that the man who should study the Bible, and not be benefited by it spiritually, would be benefited by it in- tellectually. We think that it may be reckoned amongst incredible things, that converse should be held with the first parents of our race; that man should stand on this creation whilst its beauty was unsullied, and then mark the retinue of destruction careering with a dominant step over its surface ; that he should be admitted into intercourse with patriarchs and prophets, and move through scenes peopled with the majesties of the Eternal, and behold the Godhead himself coming down into humanity, and working out, in the mysterious coalition, the discomfiture of the powers of darkness — oh, we reckon it, w'e say, amongst incredible things, that all this should be permitted to a man — as it is permitted to every student of Scripture — and yet that he should not come back from the ennobling associa- tions with a mind a hundred-fold more expanded, and a hundred-fold more ele- vated, than if he had 'given his time to the exploits of Cssar, or poured forth his attention on the results of machinery. W^e speak not thus in any disparage- ment of the present unparalleled efforts to make knowledge accessible to all classes of our community. We are far enough from underrating such eff"orts; and we hold, unreservedly, that a vast and a beneficial effect may be wrought amongst the poor through the well-applied agency of vigorous instruction. In the mind of many a peasant, whose every moment is bestowed on wringing from the soil a scanty subsistence, there slumber powers which, had they been evolved by early discipline, would have elevated their possessor to the first rank of philosophers ; and many a mechanic, who goes patiently the round of unvaried toil, is, uncon- sciously, the owner of faculties which, nursed and expanded by education, would have enabled him to electrify senates, and to win that pre-eminence which men award to the majesty of genius. There arise occasions when, peculiar circum- stances aiding the developement, the pent- up talent struggles loose from the tram- mels of pauperism ; and the peasant and mechanic, through a sudden outbreak of mind, start forward to the places for which their intellect fits them. But, ordinarily, the powers remain through life bound up and torpid ; and he, there- fore, forms but a contracted estimate of the amount of liigh mental endowment, who reckons by the proud marbles which cause the aisles of a cathedral to breathe the memory of departed greatness, and never thinks, when walking the village church-yard with its rude memorials of the fathers of the valley, that, possibly, there sleeps beneath his feet one who, if early taught, might have trod with a Newton's step the firmament, or swept with a Milton's hand the harpstrings We make then every admission of the power which there is in cultivation to enlarge and unfold the human understand ing. We nothing question that mental capacities are equally distributed amongst different classes of society ; and that, if it c2 30 THE BRITISH PULPIT. were not for the adventitious circum- stances of birth, entailing the advantages of education, there would be sent out from the lower grades the same propor- tion as from the higher, of individuals distinguished by all the energies of ta- lent. And thus believing that efforts to dis- seminate knowledge may cause a general calling forth of the mental powers of our population, we have no other feeling but that of pleasure in the survey of these efforts. It is indeed possible — and of this we have our fears — that, by sending a throng of publications to the fireside of the cottager, you may draw him away from the Bible, which has heretofore been specially the poor man's book, and thus inflict upon him, as we think, an in- tellectual injury, full as well as a moral. But, in the argument now in hand, we only uphold the superiority of scriptural knowledge, as compared with any other, when the alone object proposed is that of developing and improving the thinking powers of mankind. And we reckon that a fine triumph might be won for Christianity, by the taking two illiterate individuals, and subjecting them to two different processes of mental discipline. Let the one be made familiar with what is styled general information; let the other be confined to what we call Bible information. And when, in each case, the process has gone on a fair portion of time, and you come to inquire whose reasoning faculties have ,been most im- proved, whose mind has most grown and expanded itself, we are persuaded that the scriptural study will vastly carry it over the miscellaneous, and that the ex- periment will satisfactorily demonstrate, that no knowledge tells so much on the intellect of mankind as" that which is furnished by the records of inspiration. And if the grounds of this persuasion be demanded, we think them so self-evi- dent as scarcely to require the being for- mally advanced. We say again, that if you keep out of sight the concern which man has in scriptural truths, regarding him as born for eternity, there is a gran- deur about these truths, and a splendour, and a beauty, which must amaze and fascinate him, if he look not beyond the present area of existence. In all the wide range of sciences, what science is there comparable, in its sublim.ity and difficulty, to the science of God ? In all the annals of humankind, what history is there so curious, and so riveting, as that of the infancy of man, the cradling, so to speak, of the earth's population? Where will you find a lawgiver from whose edicts may be learned a nobler jurisprudence than is exhibited by the statute book of Moses 1 Whence will you gather such vivid illustrations of the power of truth as are furnished by the march of Chris- tianity, when apostles stood alone, and a whole world was against them? And if there be no book wl^ich treats of a loftier science, and none which contains a more interesting history, and none which more thoroughly discloses the principles of right and the prowess of truth ; why then, just so far as mental improvement can be proved dependent on acquaintance with scientific matters, or historical, or legal, or ethical, the Bible, beyond all other books, must be counted the grand engine for achieving that improvement; and we claim for the Holy Scriptures the illustrious distinction, that, containing whatsoever is needful for saving the soul, they present also whatsoever is best cal- culated for strengthening the intellect. Now we have not carried on our argu- ment to its utmost limit, though Ave have, perhaps, advanced enough for the illus- tration of our text. We might occupy your attention with the language, as we have done with the matter, of Holy Writ. It were easy to show you that there is no human composition, presenting, in any thing of the same degree, the majesty of oratory, and the loveliness of poetry. So that if the debate were simply on the best means of improving the taste of an indi- vidual, others might commend to his attention the classic page, or bring for- ward the standard works of a nation's literature; but we, for our part, would chain him down to the study of Scripture ; and we would tell him, that, if he would learn what is noble verse, he must heark- en to Isaiah sweeping the chords to Jeru- salem's glory ; and if he would know THE POWER OF RELIGION ON THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 31 what is powerful eloquence, he must stand by St, Paul pleading in bonds at Agrippa's tribunal. It suits not our purpose to push further this inquiry. But we think it right to impress on you most earnestly the won- derful fact, that, if all the books in the wide world were assembled together, the Bible would as much take the lead in disciplining the understanding, as in airecting the soul. Living, as we do, in days when intellectual and scriptural are set down, practically, as opposite terms, and it seems admitted as an axiom that to civilize and to christianize, to make men intelligent, and to make men religious, are things which have no necessary nor even possible connexion, it is well that we sometimes revert to the matter of fact ; and whilst every stripling is boasting that a great enlargement of mind is com- ing on a nation, through the pouring into all its dwellings a tide of general informa- tion, it is right to uphold the forgotten position, that, in carinsr for man as an immortal being, God cared for him as an intellectual, and that, if the Bible were but read by our artisans and our peasant- ry, we should be surrounded by a far more enlightened, and intelligent, popula- tion than will appear on this land, when the schoolmaster, with his countless magazines, shall have gone through it in its length and in its breadth. But up to this point we have made no direct reference to those words of David which we brought forward as the subject of the present discourse. Yet all our remarks have tended to their illustration. The Psalmist, addressing himself to his God, declares, "the entrance of thy words giveth light, it giveth understanding to the simple." Now you will at once perceive that, when taken in its largest signification, this verse ascribes to the Bible precisely that energy for which we have contended. The assertion is, that the entrance of God's word gives light, and that it gives also understanding to the simple ; just as it has been our endea- vour to show that a mind, dark through want of instruction, or weak through its powers being either naturally poor, or long unexercised, would become either illuminated, or strengthened, through ac- quaintance with the contents of Scripture. We thus vindicate the truth of our text, when religion, properly and strictly so called, is not brought into the account. We prove that the study of the Bible, when it does not terminate in the conver- sion of the soul, will terminate in the clearing and improvement of the intellect. So that you cannot find the sense wherein it does not hold good, that " the entrance of God's words giveth light, it giveth understanding to the simple." But we now go on to observe that the passage applies with a vastly greatei force to the converted than to the uncon- verted. We will employ the remainder of our time in examining its truth when the student of Scripture is supposed also the subject of grace. It would seem as though this case were specially contem- plated by the Psalmist, there being some- thing in the phraseology which loses otherwise much of its point. The ex- pression "the entrance of thy words," appears to denote more than the simple perusal. The light breaks out, and the understanding is communicated, not through the mere reading of thy words, but through the " entrance of thy words ;" the Bible being elfective, only as its truths pierce, and go deeper than the surface. And although it must be readily conceded that the mere reading, apart from the en- trance of the word, can eifect none of those results which we have already ascribed to the Bible, we still think the chief reference must be to an entrance into the soul, which is peculiar, rather than to that into the understanding, which is common. We may also remark that the marginal reading of the passage is, " the opening of thy words giveth light." If we adopt this translation, which is, probably, the more accurate of the two, we must conclude that the Psalmist speaks of the word as interpreted by God's Spirit, and not merely as perused by the student. It is not the word, the bare letter, which gives the light, and the understanding, specially intended ; but the word, as opened, or applied by the Spirit. Now, in treating the text in this its more limited signification, we have to 32 THE BRITISH PULPIT do, first of all, with a fact ; and secondly, with the reasons of that fact. The fact is, that, on conversion, there is given to man an increased measure of understand- ing. The reasons of this fact are to be looked for in another fact, namely, that conversion results from the entrance, or opening, of God's words. It will be for our profit that we consider attentively both the fact and the reasons. And, first of all, as to the fact that, on becoming a man of godliness, the simple becomes increasinglj' a man of understanding. Now it is, we believe, commonly ob- served by those who set themselves to examine the effects of religion upon differ- ent characters, that a general strengthening of the mind is amongst the usual accom- paniments of piety. The instances, in- deed, are of no rare occurrence in which a mental weakness, bordering almost on imbecility, has been succeeded by no inconsiderable soundness and strength of understanding. The case has come with- in our own knowledge of an individual who, before conversion, was accounted to say the least, of very limited capacities, but who, after conversion, displayed such power of comprehending difficult truths, and such facility in stating them to others, that men of staunch and well informed minds sought intercourse as a privilege. Something of the same kind has fre- quently been observed in regard to child- ren. The grace of God has fallen, like the warm sun of the east, on their mental faculties, and, ripening them into the richness of the summer, whilst the body had as yet not passed through its spring time, has caused that grey hairs miglit be instructed by the tender disciple, and brought a neighbourhood round adeath-bed to learn wisdom from the lips of a youth. And, without confining ourselves to in- stances which may be reckoned peculiar and extraordinary, we would assert that, in all cases, a marked change passes over the human mind, when the heart is re- newed by the influences of God's Spirit. We are not guilty of the absurdity of maintaining that there are supernaturally communicated any of those stores of in- formation, which are ordinarily gained Dy a patient and pains-taking application. A man will not become more of an as- tronomer than he was before, nor more ot a chemist, nor more of a linguist. He will have no greater stock of knowledge than he before possessed of subjects which most occupy the learned of his fellows. And if he would inform him- self in such subjects, the man of religion must give himself to the same labour as the man of no religion, and sit down, with the same industry to the treatise and tho grammar. The peasant, who becomes not the philosopher simply because his mental powers have been undisciplined, will not leave the plough for the orrery, because his understanding is expanded by religion. Education might give, whilst religion will not give, the powers the philosophical bent. But there is a wide difference between the strengthening the mind, and the storing it with information. We may plead for the former effect without at all supposing the latter ; though we shall come afterwards to see that in- formation of the loftiest description is conveyed through the opening of tlie Bible, and that, consequently, if the im- partment of knowledge be an improving thing to the faculties, an improvement, the most marked, must result from con- version. But we ccnfine ourselves, at present, to the statement of a fact. We assert that, in all cases, a man is intel- lectually, as well as spiritually, advan- taged through becoming a man of piety. He will have a clearer and less biassed judgment. His views will be wider, his estimates more correct. His under- standing, having been exercised on truths the most stupendous, will be more com- petent for the examination of what is difficult or obscure. His reason, having learned that much liesbeyond herprovince, as well as much within, will give herself to inquiries with greater humility and greater caution, and therefore, almost to a moral certainty, with greater success. And though we may thus seem rather to account for the fact than to prove it, let it be remembered that this fact, being an effect, can only be established, either by pointing out causes, or by appealing to experience. The appeal to experience is, perhaps, the correcter mode of the two THE POWER OF llELIGION ON THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 33 And we, therefore, content ourselves with saying, that those wlio have watched character most narrowly will bear out the statement, that the opening of God's word is followed, ordinarily, by a surpris- ing opening of man's faculties. If you take the rude and illiterate labourer, you will find that regeneration proves to him a sort of intellectual, as well as a moral renovation. There shall generally be no ploughman in the village who is so sound, and shrewd, and clear-headed a man, as the one who is most attentive to the salvation of his soul. And if an indi- vidual have heretofore been obtuse and unintelligent, let him be converted, and there shall hereafter be commonly a quickness and animation ; so that religion, whose prime business it is to shed light upon the heart, shall appear, at the same time, to have thrown fire into the eye. We do not, indeed, assert that genius and talent are imparted at the new birth. But that it is amongst the characteris- tics of godliness, that it elevates man in the scale of intellectual being, that it makes him a more thinking, and a more inquiring, and a more discriminating creature, that it both rectifies and strengthens the mental vision ; we are guilty of no exaggeration, if we contend for this as universally true ; and this, if not more than this, is asserted in the statement, that " the entrance of God's words giveth light, it giveth understand- ing to the simple." But we are now, in the second place, to consider certain of the reasons of this fact. What is there in the entrance, or, more strictly, in the opening, of God's words, which may fairly account for so singular a result ] We begin by remind- ing you that the entrance, or opening of God's word, denotes the application of scriptural truth to the heart and con- science by that Almighty agent, the Holy Ghost. Hence a saving, influential, be- lief in the disclosures of revelation is the distinguishing property of the individuals referred to in our text. And in inquir- ing, therefore, how it comes to pass that understanding is given to the simple, we are to proceed on the supposition that he is endowed with real faith in those mighty Vol. I 5 truths which inspired writers were com- missioned to make known. Thus the question before us is reduced to this — what connexion subsists between believ- ing in the heart the words of God, and having the understanding enlightened and strengthened 1 Now our great difliculty is not in find- ing an answer to this question, but in arranging and condensing our material of reply. We would, first of all, remind you that the truths, which have been commended to the belief, are the most sublime and spirit-stirring of all that can engage the attention of mankind. They are the truths of eternity, and their dimensions correspond with their dura- tion. And we feel that there must be an amazing demand upon the mind, when, after long years of confinement to the petty affairs of this perishing state, it is summoned to the survey of those un- measured wonders which crowd the plat- form of the future. I take a man whose attention has been engrossed by com- merce, and whose thoughts have been given wholly to the schemings and work- ings of trade. May we not affirm that, when the grace of God takes possession of this man's soul, there wdll occur an extraordinary mental revolution, and that, too, brought round by the magnificence of the subjects with which his spirit has newly grown conversant ] In place of oceans which can be fathomed, and weigh- ed, and measured, there is an expanse before him without a shore. In place of carrying on intercourse with none but the beings of his own race, separated from him by a few leagues of distance, he sends his vessels, as it were, to lands tenanted by the creatures of a more glo- rious intelligence, and they return to him freighted with a produce costlier, and brighter, than earthly merchandise. In place of acquaintance with no ledger, save the one in which he casts up the debtorandcreditor of a few fellow-worms, there arises before him the vast volume of doomsday, and his gazings are often on the final balance sheet of the human population. And we simply demand whether you think it possible, that there should be this overpowering accession to 34 THE BRITISH PULPIT. the objects -which occupy the mind, and yet that the mind itself should not ^ow, and enlarge, and strengthen ] The mind which deals with both worlds cannot, in the nature of things, be so contracted as that which deals only with one. Can that be a large understanding which is conversant with nothing but the scenery of a finite existence ; or, rather, if here- tofore the understanding have grasped nothing but the facts of an hour and a league, and these have appeared to crowd it to the full, must there not have taken place a scarcely measurable enlargement if eternity and infinity now be gathered within its spreadings ] Besides, there will be a sounder and correcter judgment upon events and probabilities, when reference is always made to tile first cause, than when regard is had only to second causes. There will be a fairer and more honest deliberation, when the passions are under the sway of divine promises and threat- enings, than when there is no higher restraint than the ill-defined ones of human honour. So that it would seem altogether to be expected that, on the mere account of the might and vastness of the truths, into acquaintance with which the mind is introduced, the mind itself will send forth latent and unsus- pected powers, or even shoot up into a new stature which shall put to shame its former dwarfishness. Thus the opening of God's words is accompanied, or fol- lowed, by the rousing up of dormant energies. The sphere, which the sand- grain seemed to fill, is required to dilate, and take in immensity. The arm which plucked a leaf, or lifted a pebble, must strive to wrench up the oak, and raise the mountain. And in striving it strengthens. The mind, employed on what is great, becomes itself greater ; busied with what is bright, it becomes itself brighter. Let the man, therefore, have been even of weak mental capacity — conversion Avill give something of nerve and tone to that capacity. Besides, it is a thing worthy your remark, and so obvious as scarcely to be overlooked, that all love, except the love of God, reduces and contracts the eoul. If a man be a covetous man, fast- ening the might of his affections upon money, you will ordinarily find him, in every respect, a narrow-minded being. His intellect, whatever its natural capa- cities, will embrace little or nothing beyond modes of accumulation, and will grow practically unable to overpass the circles of profit and loss. It is just the same if a man's love be fixed on reputa- tion. We hold it impossible there should be enlarged views, when those views centre in one's self. There may be lofty and far-spreading schemes ; for ambition can look upon a world, and think it too small for its marchings. But so long as those schemes are schemes for the aggrandizement of self, they may take a creation for their sphere, and yet require to be described as pitiful and nigg-ardly. It is no mark of an ample mind that it can be filled with an unit. And many a philanthropist, labouring quietly, and unobtrusively, for the well-being of a solitary parish, or neighbourhood, has thereby proved himself a larger hearted, and a larger souled, creature than an Alex- ander.boundless in his graspings; and that, too, upon the clear and straight-forward principle, that a heart which holds only one's-self, is a narrower and more circum- scribed thing than another which contains a multitude of our fellows. The truth is that all objects of love, except God, are smaller than the heart itself. They can only fill the heart, through the heart being contracted and narrowed. The human soul was framed, in its first creation, to that wideness as to be capable of enjoy- ing God, though not of fully comprehend- ing Him. And it still retains so much of its glorious original, that " all other things gather it in and straiten it from its natural size." Whereas the love of God not only occupies it to the full, but, inas- much as in its broadest enlargement it is still infinitely too narrow for God, this love, as it were, doth stretch and expand it, enabling it to hold more, and giving it, at the same time, more to hold. Thus, since the converted man loves God, and this new object of love demands ampli- tude of dwelling, we contend that, as a consequence on conversion, there will be extension of the whole mental apparatus. And if you find the man hereafter, as wc Trie POWER OF rl:ligion on the human intellect. 35 Tire bold to say j'ou will find him, exer- cising a correcter judgment, and display- ing a shrewder sense, than had before time seemed in his possession, you have only to advance, in explanation of the phenomenon, that " the entrance of God's words giveth understanding to the sim- ple." But we may state yet more strongly, and also multiply our reasons why, on becoming religious, the simple man should become more a man of understanding. Let it just be considered that man, whilst left in his state of natural corruption, is ■a being, in every respect, disorganized. Under no point of view is he the crea- ture that he was, as fashioned, originally, after the image of his Maker. He can no longer act out any of the great ends of his creation; a total disability of loving and obeying the Almighty having been fastened on him, by his fore-father's apostasy. And when this degraded and ruined being is subjected to the saving operations of the Spirit of God, he is said to be renewed, or remodelled, after the long lost resemblance. The conscience becomes disquieted ; and this is convic- tion. The heart and its affections are given back to God ; and this is conversion. Now we do not say, that, by this great moral renovation, the injuries which the fall caused to the human intellect are necessarily repaired. Nevertheless, we shall assert that the moral improvement 15 just calculated to bring about an intel- lectual. You all know how intimately mind and body are associated. One plays wonderfully on the other, so that disease of body may often be traced to gloom of mind, and, conversely, gloom of mind be proved to originate in disease of body. And if there be this close connexion be- tween mental and corporeal, shall we suppose there is none between mental and moral 1 On the contrary, it is clear that the association, as before hinted, is of the strictest. What an influence do the passions exercise upon the judgment ! How is the voice of reason drowned in the cry of impetuous desires ! To what absurdities will the understanding give assent, when the will has resolved to take us their advocacy ! How little way can truth make with the intellect, when there is something in its character which opposes the inclination ! And what do we infer from these undeniable facts? Simply, that whilst the moral functions are disordered, so likewise must be the mental. Simply, that so long as the heart is depraved and disturbed, the mind, in a certain degree, must itself be out of joint. And if you would give the mind fair play, there must be applied straightways, a corrective process to the heart. You cannot tell what a man's understanding is, so long as he continues " dead in trespasses and sins." There is a mountain upon it. It is tyrannized over by lusts and passions, and affections and appetites. It is compelled to form wrong estimates, and to arrive at w-rong conclusions. It is not allowed to receive as truth what the carnal nature has an interest in rejecting as falsehood. And what hope, then, is there that the intellect will show itself what it actually is 1 It may be gigantic, when it seems only puny ; respectable, when it passes for despicable. And thus we bring you back again to the argument in hand. We prove to you that a weak mind may be so connected with a wicked heart, that to act on the wickedness would be going far towards acting on the weakness. Oh, fatal downfall of man's first parent — the image could not be shivered in its moral features, and remain untouched in its in- tellectual. Well has it been said that possibly "Athens was but the rudiments of Paradise, and an Aristotle only the rub- bish of Adam." But if there be a moral renovation, there will, from the connexion now traced, be also, to a certain extent, an intellectual. And hence, since at the entrance of God's words the man is re- newed in holiness, we have a right to expect that he will also be renewed in understanding. If additional mental ca- pacity be not given, what he before pos- sessed is allowed to develope itself; and this is practically the same as though there were a fresh gift. If he receive not actually a greater measure of understand- ing, still, inasmuch as the stern embargo which the heart laid on the intellect is mercifully removed, he is, virtually, 36 THE BRITISH PULPIT. under the same circumstances as if a new portion were bestowed. Thus, with all the precision which can fairly be required in the interpretation of such a phrase, we prove that, since man is elevated in the scale of intelligence through being raised from his moral degradation, we are bound to conclude with the Psalmist, that "the entrance of God's words giv- eth light, it giveth understanding to the simple." We have yet one more reason to ad- vance, explanatory of the connexion which we set ourselves to trace. You observe that the entrance, or the opening, of God's words denotes such an applica- tion to the soul of the truths of revelation that they become influential on the life and conversation. Now, why should a man who lives by the Bible be, practi- cally, possessed of a stronger and clearer understanding than, apparently, belonged to him ere this rule was adopted ■? The answer may be found in the facts, that it is a believer's duty, whensoever he lacks wisdom, to ask it of God, and a be- liever's privilege never to be sent empty away. In all those cases which require the exercise of a sound discretion, which present opposite difficulties, rendering decision on a course painfully perplexing, who is likely to display the soundest judgment] the man who acts for him- self, or another who seeks, and obtains, direction from above 1 We plead not for rash and unfounded expectations of a divine interference on our behalf. We simply hold fast to the promises of Scrip- ture. And we pronounce it to be beyond all peradventure, that, if the Bible be true, it is also trae that they who have been translated from darkness to light are never left without the aids of God's Spirit, unless they seek not those aids, or seek them not earnestly and faith- fully. If I have known the entrance, or the opening, of the word of our God, then I have practically learned such lessons as these : " lean not to thine own under- standing ;" " in all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." And if I am not to lean to mine own un- derstanding, and if I have the privilege of being directed by a higher than mine own, it is evident that I occupy, practi- cally, the position of one to whom has been given an increased measure of under- standing ; and what, consequently, is to prevent the simple man, whose rule of life is God's word, from acting in all circumstances, whether ordinary or ex- traordinary, with such prudence, and discretion, and judgment, that he shall make good, to the very letter, the asser- tion, that " the entrance of God's words giveth light, it giveth understanding to the simple?" Now it is not possible to gather into a single discourse the varied reasons which might be given for the fact under review. But the causes already adduced will serve, at least, to show that the fact is by no means unaccountable ; but that, on the contrary, the connexion is so necessary between spiritual improvement and intel- lectual, that amongst the accompaniments of a renewed heart we may justly reckon a clearer head. We desire, in conclusion, to press upon you once more the worth of the Bible, and then to wind up our subject with a word of exhortation. Of all the boons which God has be- stowed on this apostate and orphaned creation, we are bound to say that the Bible is the noblest and most precious. We bring not into comparison with this illustrious donation the glorious sun- light, nor the rich sustenance which is poured forth from the storehouses of the earth, nor that existence itself which allows us, though dust, to soar into com- panionship with angels. The Bible is the developement of man's immortality, the guide which informs him how he may move oflF triumphantly from a con- tracted and temporary scene, and grasp destinies of unbounded splendour, eter- nity his lifetime and infinity his home. It is the record which tells us that this rebellious section of God's unlimited empire is not excluded from our Maker's compassions ; but that the creatures who move upon its surface, though they have basely sepulchred in sinfulness and cor- ruption the magnificence of their nature, are yet so dear in their ruin to Him who first formed them, that he hath bowed THE POWER OF RELIGION ON THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 37 down the heavens in order to open their ' graves. Oh ! j'ou have only to think what a change would pass on the aspect of our race, if the Bible were suddenly with- drawn, and all remembrance of it swept away, and you arrive at some faint notion of the worth of the volume. Take from Christendom the Bible, and you have taken the moral chart by which alone its population can be guided. Ignorant of the nature of God, and only guessing at their own immortality, the tens of thou- sands would be as mariners, tossed on a wide ocean, without a pole-star, and without a compass. The blue lights of the storm-fiend would burn ever in the shrouds ; and when the tornado of death rushed across the waters, there would be heard nothing but the shriek of the terri- fied, and the groan of the despairing. It were to mantle the earth with a more than Egyptian darkness ; it were to dry up the fountains of human happiness ; it were to take the tides from our waters, and leave them stagnant, and the stars from our heavens, and leave them in sackcloth, and the verdure from our valleys, and leave them in barrenness ; it were to make the present all recklessness, and the future all hopelessness, the maniac's revelry and then the fiend's imprison- ment, if you could annihilate that precious volume which tells us of God and of Christ, and unveils immortality, and in- structs in duty, and woos to glory. Such is the Bible. Prize ye it, and study it more and more. Prize it, as ye are im- mortal beings — for it guides to the new Jerusalem. Prize it, as ye are intellect- ual beings — for it " giveth understanding to the simple." We have now only space for a brief Avord of exhortation, and we ask for it your closest attention. A minister, if he would be faithful to his calling, must mark the signs of the times, and endea- vour so to shape his addresses that they may meet, and expose the prominent errors. Now we think that, in our own day, there is a strong disposition to put aside the Bible, and to seek out other agency in accomplishing results which God hath appointed it to effect. We fear, for example, that the intellectual benefits of scriptural knowledge are well- nigh entirely overlooked ; and that, in the efforts to raise the standard of mind, there is little or no recognition of the mighty principle that the Bible outweighs ten thousand Encyclopaedias. And we are fearful on your account, lest something of this national substitution of human literature for divine should gain footing in your households. We fear lest, in the business of education, you should sepa- rate broadly that teaching which has to do with the salvation of the soul from that which has to do with the improve- ment of the mind. We refer to this point, because we think ourselves bound, by the vows of our calling, to take every opportunity of stating the duties which devolve on you as parents or guardians. There is a sense in which it may be affirmed that souls, those mysterious and imperishable things, are given into the custody of every father of a family. And we are persuaded that if there be one thing on this earth which, more than another, draws the sorrowing regards of the world of spirits, it must be the system of education pursued by the generality of parents. The entering a room grace- fully is a vast deal more attended to than the entering into heaven ; and you would conclude that the grand thing for which God had sent the child into the world was that it might catch the Italian acfi^nt, and be quite at home in every note of the gamut. Christianity, indeed, is not at variance with the elegancies of life : she can use them as her handmaids, and give them a beauty of which, out of her ser- vice, they are utterly destitute. We wage no war, therefore, with accomplish- ments, any more than with the solid acquirements of a liberal education. We are only anxious to press on you the ne- cessity that ye make religion the basis of your system. We admit, in all its breadth, the truth of the saying, that knowledge is power. It is power — ay, a fatal power, and a perilous. Neither the might of armies, nor the scheming of politicians, avails any thing against this power. The schoolmaster, as we D 38 THE BRITISH PULPIT. have already hinted, is the grand engine for revolutionizing a world. Let know- ledge be generally diffused, and the fear of God be kept in the back ground, and you have done the same for a country as if you had laid the gunpowder under its very institution ; there needs only the igniting of a match, and the land shall be strewed with the fragments of all that is glorious and venerable. But, neverthe- less, we would not have knowledge chained up in the college and monastery, because its arm is endowed with such sinew and nerve. We would not put forth a finger to uphold a system which we be- lieved based on the ignorance of a popu- lation. We only desire to see knowledge of God advance as the vanguard of the host of information. We are sure that an intellectual must be a mighty pea- santry. But we are equally sure that an intellectual, and a godless, will demon- strate their might, by the ease with which they crush whatever most adorns and elevates a kingdom. And in speaking to you individually of your duties as parents, we would bring into the family circle the principles thus announced as applicable to the national. We want not to set bounds to the amount of knowledge which you strive to impart. But never let this remembrance be swept from your minds, that, to give a child knowledge without endeavouring, at the same time, to a^d to knowledge godliness, is to do yourbest to throw the momentum of the giant into the arm of the idiot ; to con- struct a machinery which may help to move a world, and to leave out the spring which would insure its moving it only towards God. We would have you shun, even as you would the tampering with an immortality deposited in your keeping, the imitating what goes on in a thousand of the households of a professedly Chris- tian neighbourhood, — the children can pro- nounce well, and they can step well, and they can play well ; the mother proudly exhibits the specimens of proficiency in painting, and the father dwells, with an air of delight, on the progress made in Virgil and Homer — but if you inquire how far these parents are providing for [ their own in the things of eternity, why, the children have perhaps learned the Church Catechism, and they read a chap- I ter occasionally on a Sunday afternoon And that ye may avoid the mistake into j which, as we think, the temper of the j times is but too likely to lead you, we I would have you learn, from the subject which has now been discussed, that, in educating your children for the next life, you best educate them for the present. W^e give it you, as a truth, made known to us by God, and, at the same time, demonstrable by reason, that, in going through the courses of Bible instruction, there is better mental discipline, whether for a child or an adult, than in any of the cleverly devised methods for opening and strengthening the faculties. We say not that the study of Scripture should exclude other studies, or be substituted for them.' Natural philosophy is not to be learned from Scripture, nor general history ; and we would not have such matters neglect- ed. But we say that scriptural study should be, at once, the groundwork and companion of every other ; and that the mind will advance, with the firmest and most dominant step, into the various departments of knowledge, when familiar- ized with the truths of revelation, and ac- customed to walk their unlimited spread- ings. If parents had no higher ambition than to make their children intellectual, they would act most shrewdly by acting as though desirous to make their children religious. It is thus we appl)' our sub- ject to those amongst you who are parents or guardians. But it applies to all. We call upon you all to observe that, in place of being beneath the notice of the intel- lectual, the Bible is the great nourisher of intellect. We require of you to bear away to your homes, as an undeniable fact, that to care for the soul is to culti- vate the mind. We will not yield the culture of the understanding to earthly husbandmen. There are heavenly minis- • ters who water it with a choicer dew, and pour on it the beams of a more bril- liant sun, and prune its branches with a kinder and more skilful hand. We will not give up reason to stand always as a THE POWER OF RELIGION OF THE HUIVTAN INTELLECT 39 priestess at the altars of human philoso- phy. She halh a more majestic temple to tread, and more beauteous robes where- in to walk, and incense rarer and more fragrant to burn in g-olden censers. She does well when exploring- boldl)"^ God's visible works. She does better, when she meekly submits to spiritual teaching, and sits, as a child, at the Saviour's feet; for then shall she experience tlie truth, that " the entrance of God's words giveth light and understanding." And, there- fore, be ye heedful — the young amongst you more especially — that ye be not ashamed of piety as though it argued a feeble capacity. Rather be assured, for- asmuch as revelation is the great strength- ener of reason, that the march of mind which leaves the Bible in the rear, is an advance, like that of our first parents in Paradise, towards knowledge, but, at the same time, towards death. ROUSSEAU AND LORD BYRON. BY DR. CHALMERS. Thus far have we explained the doc- trine of original sin ; a doctrine which affirms that there is an original proneness to sin in all men, in virtue of which it is that all men are sinners. This principle is feebly felt, and therefore feebly recog- nised by many eloquent expounders ; who would tolerate impiety, if there were force enough in their own powerful and pathe- tic appeals, to school away selfishness, and cruelty, and fraud ; and who under- take to tutor the species, apart from what they nauseate as Methodism. We have seen how bitterly they have been disap- pointed ; and how they have poured out this disappointment on their disciples. Rousseau was one of these writers. He may be said to have abjured Christianity ; but from the bower of sensibility and ro- mance, he sent forth those appeals, which were to recall a wandering race to primi- tive innocence. He plied all Europe with the spells of a most passionate and fascinating eloquence ; and there were not wanting those who worshipped him as an idol while he lived ; and after his death made a pilgrimage to his tomb. They thought he had sown the seeds ot a great moral revolution ; but even Rous- seau himself lived long enough to mourn over the failure of his own schemes ; and in his retirement was he heard to curse the humanity he had so idolized. It is striking to remark how, ere he closed his career, he became sick of a world he had vainly attempted to reform ; and renounc- ing the brotherhood of his species, loudly proclaimed that the race was incurably tainted with disease ! What Rousseau was in prose. Lord Byron was in poetrJ^ Not that he at- tempted to reform a world, of which he seldom speaks but in the deep derision of a heart which despaired of it ; — not on account of its ungodliness ; for it is not that which calls forth the bitterness of his adjurations. But he saw that "the whole head was sick, and the whole heart faint;" that the deadly virus had totally pervaded it ; and he gave back to the world, from his own breast, a reflected image of the guilt which troubled and deformed it. W^e should have liked to seen him led to the source of this moral disease ; for though hid under a veil of apparent mysticism, it would seem as if, in his wild and frenzied career, his imagination caught a glimpse of that, which he never thoroughly understood. "Our life is a false nature ; 'tis not in The harmony of things ; this hard decree, This uneradicable taint of sin, This boundless upas, this all-blasting tree Whose root is earth ; whose leaves and branches be The skies, which rain their plagues on men like dew ; — Disease, death, bondage ; all the woes we see. And worse, the woes we see not ; which thril through Th' immedicable soul, with heart-aches eve new." CHILDE HAROLD. SERMON III. IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. BY THE REV. T. CHALMERS, D.D. "He hath abolished death, and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel." —2 Tim. i. 10. The men of this earth carry on their designs and their doings just as if on earth they were to live for ever. Each is so intent upon his own earthly objects ; every heart is so occupied with its own earthly schemes ; every countenance speaks such deep and over anxiety after some favourite yet earthly ambition ; each individual is so decidedly embarked, with all his powers of attention and perseverance, in some earthly undertaking, that surely one would think that can be naught of a tri- fling or temporary nature which either creates or keeps up so mighty a stir among our species. And yet it is not the less true that all the busy activities of all these people have their upshot in forget- ful ness. It is not the greatness or the \ durability of the object which has called forth the effort and the strenuousness of men ; it is the folly of men that uges them to the pursuit of paltry and evanescent objects — a folly which overlooks the arithmetic of our little years, and has invested them with the characters of eter- nitj' — a folly which all the demonstrations of experience have been unable to rectif)% and which, after the mighty sweep of countless generations from the face of our world, reigns with unquelled strength over the human heart, and finds the men of the present day as unwise and as infa- tuated as ever. Death is a theme of mighty import, and every variety of elo- quence has been exhausted on the magni- tude of its desolations. There is not a place where human beings congregate to- 40 gether that does not, in the fleeting his- tory of its inmates, give the lesson of their mortality. Is it a house 1 Death enters unceremoniously there, and, with rude hand, tears asunder the dearest of our sympathies. Is it a town? Every year death breaks up its families, and the society of our early days is fast melting away from us. Is it a market place ? Though at the end of twenty years I see a crowd as busy and as numerous as be- fore, these are new faces which meet me, and new names which fall upon the ear. Is it a church? The aspect of t!ie con- gregation is changing perpetually ; and in a little time another people will enter these walls, and another minister will speak to them. Is it the country at large 1 On every side we see a shifting population ; another set of occupiers to the farms ; and other names are annexed to the properties. But this is viewing the subject at a distance. Every assemblage of objects is composed of individuals. And think of the numbers that must have suffered to accomplish the change which I have now set before you. Think that each of these individuals carried in his bosom a living principle, and that principle is now to all appearance extinguished — that each felt as warmly and as alive to the world as perhaps any who now hears me, and that this world the stern necessity of death forced them to abandon for ever — that each was as feelingly open to pain and fear, and that the forebodings, and the IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 41 y^ reluctance, and the agonies of death came upon all of them — that each had hopes, and plans, and wishes to accom- plish, but that death forced them away, and they are all buried in forgetfulness along with them. " All is vanity, saith the preacher;" and it is death which stamps this character on the affairs of the world — it throws a mockery upon all that is human — it frustrates the wisest plans, and absolutely converts them into noth- ingness. All the ecstasies of pleasure, all the splendours of fame, all the triumphs of ambition, all the joys of domestic ten- derness, all that the eye can look upon, or the heart aspire after, iMs, this is their affecting termination — death absorbs all, it annihilates all. Our fathers who strut- ted their little hour on this very theatre, were as active and noisy as we — the loud laugh of festivity was heard in their dwellings ; and in the busy occupations of their callings, they had their days of labour and their nights of painful anxiety ; the world carried on it the same face of activity as now — and where are the men who kept it up in their successive gene- rations % They are where we shall soon follow them ; they have gone to sleep — but it is the sleep of death — their bed is a coffin in which they are mouldering — the garment which they have thrown aside is their body, which served them through life, but is now lying in loose and scat- tered fragments in the little earth that they claim. And it does aggravate our hopelessness of escape from death, when we look to the wide extent and universality of its ravages. We see no exception — it scat- ters its desolations with unsparing regu- larity among all the sons and daughters of Adam. It perhaps adds to our despair when we see it extending to the lower animals, or behold the lovely forms of the vegetable creation dissolving into no- thing. It carries to our observation all the immutability of a general law ; we can look for no mitigation of the incorrigible distemper ; we cannot reverse the process of nature, nor bid her mighty elements to retire. Is there no power, then, superior to nature, and which can control if? To us a law of the universe carries the idea Vol. I.— 6 of some fixed and unalterable necessity along with it, and of none more strict, more unfailing, and more widely exten- sive in its operation than the law of death. In the wide circuit of things does there exist no high authority that can abolish this law ■? — no power that can overthrow death, that can grapple with this mighty conqueror and break his tyranny to pieces % We never saw that being, but the records of past ages have come down to us, and we there read of the extraordinary visiter who lighted on these realms where death had reigned so long in all the triumphs of extended empire. Wonderful enter- prise ! He came to destroy death. Vast undertaking ! He came to depose nature from this conceived immutability ; and a law which embraced within its wide grasp all who live and move on the face of the world, he came to overturn ; and he soon gave token of a power commen- surate to the mighty undertaking. That nature, to whose operations we are so apt to ascribe some stubborn and invincible necessity, gave way at his coming; she felt his authority through all her ele- ments, and she obeyed it. Wonderful period ! — when the constancy of nature was broken in upon by him who esta- blished it — when the Deity vindicated his honour, and the miracles of a single age, committed to authentic history, gave evi- dence to all futurity that there is a power above nature and beyond it. What more unchanging than the aspect of the starry heavens — and in what quarter of her do- minions does nature maintain a more silent and solemn inflexibility, than in the orbs which roll around us ? Yet, at the com- ing of that mighty Saviour, these heavens broke silence — music was heard from their canopy, and it came from a congre- gation of living voices, which sung the praises of God, and made them fall in articulate language on human ears. After this, who can call nature unalterable? Jesus Christ hath abolished death, he has made perpetual invasion upon nature's constancy, and she never in a single in- stance resisted the word of his power. " What manner of man is this V said his disciples, "even the winds and the sea obey him !" Philosophers love to expa- d2 V 42 THE BRITISH PULPIT. tiate, and they tell us of the laws of the animal and the vegetable kingdom. These laws may prove an impassable barrier to us, but in the hand of the omnipotent Saviour they were nothing — he reversed or supported them at pleasure ; he blasted the fig tree by a single word ; and what to us was the basis of high anticipation, he made man the subject of his miracles. He restored sight to the blind, he restored speech to the dumb, he restored motion to the palsied, and to crown his triumph over nature and her processes, he restored life to the dead, — he laid down his own life, and took it up again. The disciples gave up all for lost when they saw the champion of their hopes made the victim of the very mortality which he promised to destroy. It was like the contest and victory of nature — but it was only to make his triumph the more complete. He entered — " That undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller e'er returns" But he did. He brolie asunder the mighty barriers of the grave ; he entered and he reanimated that body which ex- pired on the cross, and by that most strik- ing of all testimonies he has given us to know that he hath fought against the law of death, and hath carried it. But man not only wants power to achieve his own immortality, he also wants light to discover it. That such, in spite of every appalling exhibition to the contrary, is really to be the ultimate state of man, is not brought to light by reason. The text indeed says as much, in saying that " it is brought to light by the gospel." It represents the great truth as groped by nature, and only made clear by revelation ; it seems to cast discredit on all the arguments of science, in behalf of a future state ; and just for want of a sufficient basis in the evidence of philoso- phy, on which to rear this noble antici- pation, it would rest and establish it wholly on the evidence of faith. In the further prosecution of this dis- course, let me I. Advert to what may he called the phy- sical state ; and II. To the moral state of the mind ; and under this head let me endeavour to contrast the insufficiency of the light of nature ivith the sufficiency and fulness of the light of the gospel. First, Then, in regard to the physical state of the mind. An argument for its immortality has been drawn from the con- sideration of what we should term the physics of the mind, i. e. from the consi- deration of its properties when it is re- garded as having a separate or substan- tive being of its own. For example — it has been said the spirit is not matter, and therefore must be imperishable. We con- fess that we see not the force of this rea- soning. We are not sure of the premises, and neither do we apprehend how the conclusion flows from them. We think ourselves familiar with the subtleties and scholastics that have been uttered upon this subject — they are to us far from satis- factory ; nor are we persuaded of it by evi- dence on which we rest our belief in any coming event, or coming state, of the futurity that lies before us. We cannot have the force of practical evidence on those abstract and metaphysical generali- ties which are employed to demonstrate the endurance, or rather the indestructi- bleness, of the thinking principle, so as to be persuaded that it shall indeed sur- vive the dissolution of the body, and sliall separately maintain its consciousness and powers on the other side of the grave. Now, in the recorded fact of our Sa- viour's resurrection, we see what we might call a more popular, as well as a more substantial and convincing argu- ment, for the soul's immortality, than any thing furnished by the speculations we have now referred to. To us the one ap- pears as much superior to the other as history is more solid than hypothesis, or as experience is of a texture more firm than imagination, or as the philosophy of our modern Bacon is of a surer and juster character than the philosophy of the old schoolmen. Now, it is on the fact of his own resurrection that Christ rests the hope and the promise of resurrection to all of us, " If he be not risen from the dead," saith one of the apostles, " we are of all men the most miserable." It is to this fact that he appeals for the foundation IMMORTALITY OF TPIE SOUL. 43 and the hope of immortality. To every cavil and to every difficulty he opposes this as a sufficient argument — that Chritst has risen. This was Paul's argument, and it has descended by inheritance to us. We hav(^ received the testimony — we have access to the documents — we can take a view of the unexampled evidence which has been carried down to us in the vehicles of history ; and in opposition to all which fancy or speculation can muster against us, we can appeal to the fact. It is not a doctrine excogitated by the inge- , nuities of human reasoning — it is a doc- trine submitted to the observation of the human senses. It is not an untried experi- ment; while Jesus Christ lived on our earth he made it repeatedly, and with uniform success, upon others ; and in giv- ing up his body to the cross he made it upon himself. One who could carry an experiment such as this to a successful ter- mination, has a claim to be listened to ; and he tells us, by the mouth of an apos- tle, that the fact of himself having risen bears most decidedly upon the doctrine that we shall rise also ; " for if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so they who sleep in Jesus shall God bring with him." Let it be remembered, before we con- clude this head of discourse, that the word which is rendered " aLolisked," signifies also " made of none effect.'''' " He hath abolished death, or made death of none effect." The latter interpretation of the word is certainly more applicable to our first or temporal death. He has not abo- lished temporal death ; it still reigns with unmitigated violence, and sweeps off each successive generation with as great sure- ness and rapidity as ever. This part of the sentence is not abolished, but it is rendered ineffectual. Death still lays us in the grave, but it cannot chain us there to everlasting forgetfulness ; it puts its cold hand on every one of us, but a power higher than death will lift it off, and these forms be again reanimated with all the warmth of life and of sentiment. The churchyard has been called the land of silence — and silent it is indeed to them who occupy it — the Sabbath-bell is no longer heard, nor yet the tread of the living population above them ; but though remote from the hearing of every earthly sound, yet shall the sound of the last trumpet enter the loneliness of their dwell- ing, and be heard through death's remotest caverns. When we open the sepul- chres of the men of other times, the frag- ments, the skeletons, and the mouldering of bones, form indeed a humiliating spec- tacle ; but the working of the same power wliich raised Jesus from the dead shall raise corruption to a glorious form, and invest it in all the blush and vigour of immortality. " So is the resurrection of the dead; it is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption ; it is sown in dis- honour, it is raised in glory ; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in pow-er ; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and tliis mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, death is swallowed up in victory." There is much need that we be habitu- ally reminded of these things, for in truth we live in almost constant forgetfulness of them. The region of sense and the region of spirituality are so unlike the one to the other, that there is positively nothing in our experience of the former which can at all familiarize our minds to the conception of the latter. And then, as if to obstruct the flight of our imagina- tions onward to eternity, there is such a dark and cloudy interceptment that hangs upon the very entrance of it; ere we can realize that distant world of souls, we must press our way beyond the curtain of the grave — we must scale the awful bar- ricado which separates the visible from the invisible — we must make our escape from all the close, and warm, and besetting urgencies, which in the land of human beings are ever plying us with constant and powerful solicitations, and force our spirits across the boundaries of sense to that mysterious scene where cold, and meagre, and evanescent spirits dwell to- gether in some unknown and incompre- hensible mode of existence. 44 THE BPUTISH PULPIT. We know not if there be any other tribe of beings in the universe who have such a task to perform. Angels have no death to undergo — there is no such affair of un- natural violence between them and their final destiny — it is for man, and for aught that appears, it is for man alone to fetch, from the other side of a material panorama that hems and encloses him, the great and abiding realities with which he has ever- lastingly to do — it is for him, so locked in an imprisonment of clay, and with no other available medium than the eye and the ear, it is for him to light up in his bo- som a lively and realizing sense of the things which " eye hath not seen, nor ear heard" — it is for man, and perhaps for man alone, to travel in thought over the ruins of a mighty desolation, and looking to the wreck of the present world by which he is encompassed, to conceive that future world in which he is to expa- tiate for ever. But harder achievement perhaps than any, it is for man in the ex- ercise of faith, to bear that most appalling of all contemplations, the decay and the dissolution of himself — to think of the time when his now animated framework, every part of which is so sensitive and so dear to him, shall fall to pieces — when the vital warmth by which at present it is so thoroughly pervaded, shall take its final departure, and leave to coldness and abandonment all that is visible and lovely of the present structure — when these ^ limbs with which he now steps so firmly, and that countenance out of which he now looks so gracefully, and that tongue with which he now speaks so eloquently, and that whole body, for the interests and preservation of which he now labours so assiduously, as if it were indeed immor- tal— when all these shall be reduced to one mass of putrefaction, and shall crum- ble, like the coffin which encloses him, into dust. Why, my friends, to beings constituted as we are, there is something so foreign and unnatural in death, that we are not to wonder if it scare away the mind frgm those scenes of existence to which it is the stepping-stone. Angels are not so circumstanced — there is no screen of dark- ness like this interposed between them and any portion of their futurity, however distant; and it appears only of man, that it is for him to drive a breach across that barrier which looks so impregnable ; and so to surmount the power of vision as to carry his aspirings over the summit of all that vision has made known to him. Before I proceed to our next argument for the immortality of the soul, let me only remark, as a strong practical proof of the necessity of something higher and more influential than the mere power of reasoning upon the subject, how strong!!/ wedded we are to the things of sense and rf time, in spite of every demonstration, how- ever affecting, that is given of their vaiiity. I It is wonderful, it is passing wonderful, ' that we should abide in such an abstract state of insensibility, and that in the face of all experience, and, I may add, of all arithmetic. For the average of human life is numerically known ; and should there be an overweening confidence to carry our hopes beyond this average, the maxinnim of human life is numerically known ; and to balance the uncertainty whether our days on earth may not great- ly exceed the average, there is an equal uncertainty whether they may not greatly fall short of it. There is no point from its origin downwards at which death may not lay his arrest on the current of human existence ; and, as if the whole domain of society were his own, does he go forth at large from one extreme to the other of it; nor is there a single portion of the terri- tory on which, with free and unfaltering footstep, he may not enter. In the church- yard we see graves of every dimension. This land of silence is far more densely peopled by young than by old — proving that through all departments of life, whe- ther of age, or of youth, or of infancy, the arrows of this mighty destroyer flee at random. Parents have oftener to weep over their children's tomb, than children have to carry their parents to that place where lies the mouldering heap of the generations that have already gone by. So that we have the clearest light both of arithmetic and experience on the subject; and one would think it superfluous to hold any parley with the understanding on a topic on which the proof is so over- IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 45 powering. Why, it may be thought, should we be so anxious for urging a truth which may safely be left to its own evidence, or take occasion strenuously and repeatedly to affirm what none is able to deny 1 And this is just the marvellous anomaly of our nature which it is so difficult to explain. In the face of all this evidence, and in utter opposition to the judgment extracted thereby, there is an obstinate practical delusion that resides most constantly within the heart, and rules most imperiously over the judg- ments of the vast majority of our species. \ It is not that we are incapable of all in- fluence from futurity — for it is the future gain of the present adventure, or the fu- ture issue of the present arrangement, or the future result of the present contrivance, that sets almost the whole of human ac- tivity a going. But it is the future death, and the future condition on the other side of it, to which we are so strangely insen- sible. We are all in the glow, and the bustle, and eagerness of most intense ex- pectation, about the events that lie in the intermediate distance between us and death, and as blind to the certainty of the death itself, as if this distance stretched indefinitely onward in the region of anti- cipation before us, or as if it were indeed an eternity. There is a deep sleep into vv^hich our world has been lulled, as if by all the powers of fascination, from which it should seem impossible to awaken us. Nor do we now expect of any utterance of the brevity of time that it will awaken you. For this purpose there must be the putting forth of a force that is supernatu- ral ; and the most experimental demonstra- tion that we know of this necessity, is the torpor of the human soul about death, and the temerity wherewith it stands its ground amidst pathetic and plain exhibi- tions of it. We are never more assured of man, that he is wholly sold over to the captivity of this world, than in witness- ing the strong adherence of his heart to it under the most touching experience of its vanity — than in perceiving how un- emptied he is of all his earthliness, whe- ther he goes from business to burials, or back again from burials to business — than in observing how, after having buried his neighbour in the dust, he remains buried, as it were, in the concerns of the world, and will betake himself again with an eagerness as intense and unbroken to its concerns and companies as before. We affirm that, of the spell which binds him to earth, no power within the compass of nature is able to disenchant him ; that ar- gument will not ; that instances of mor- tality in his own dwelling will not ; that sermons will not; and the evident ap- proach of the last messenger to his own person will not : and it is indeed a most affecting spectacle to behold, with the warnings and the symbols of a dissolution which so speedily awaits him, that he just hugs more closely to his heart when on the eve of being taken away from hia treasures for ever. Give me then a man who is actually alive to the realities of faith ; and the inference from all is, that another power than that of the influence of nature over the feelings of nature must have been put forth to awaken him. There is not, within the compass of all that is visible, any cause conpetent to the production of such an effect on the human spirit. The power which awakens him to a sense of spiritual things cometh from a spiritual Creator. There is naught in the world that is present, which can bring a human soul under the dominion of the world that is to come. And although one would have thought that the follies and fluctuations of time would have been suffi- cient to wean men from a portion so evan- escent and unsatisfying, and to point them to the things of eternity, yet it would ap- pear not; the loss and desolation which attach to the life of sense, and the cer- tainty of all it can command being speedily and totally swept away, these will not of themselves germinate within the man the life of faith. This wondrous phenome- non of our nature convinces me of the doctrine of regeneration — that there is no power short of this which can spiritualize us — that ere our affections can be set on things that are above, an influence from above must descend upon us — and tha* before we become alive to the delights and glories of the upper sanctuary, there must come down from that sanctuary the light and ;he power of a special revelation. 40 THE BRITISH PULPIT. A far more satisfactory arsfument than that which is founded upon the reasoninors of philosophy, for this doctrine is to be found in the fact of the resurrection of Christ. To satisfy yourselves upon ra- tional grounds as to the immortality of the soul, we would say, study the histo- rical evidence for the truth of this fact. The physical argument of nature for the doctrine is grounded on certain obscure reasonings about the properties and inde- structibleness of the mind ; the physical argument of Christianity again is grounded on the truth, the historically established truth, that Christ has actually risen ; on the credit of this specimen, and with all the authority that is given by a miracle so stupendous, rests the doctrine of the general resurrection. The moral argu- ment again of nature for the soul's im- mortality is furnished by the sense which is in all spirits of God's justice, and of his yet unsettled controversy with sin. In the moral argument of Christianity again the doctrine is revealed in connex- ion with the doctrine of the atonement; it rises every day in strength and in as- surance in the experience of the believer, who feels in himself what nature never feels — a growing meetness of spirit and character, which forms at once the prepa- ration and the earnest of the inheritance which awaits him. In order to get at the physical argument of Christianity, you have to study the historical evidence for the truth of Christianity, considered as a religion of facts. In point of fact, how- ever, this rational conviction will do very little in the way of bringing you under the power of things unseen and things eternal. I believe we are never effectu- ally brought under this power but by the study of the moral argument ; and this moral argument can only be drawn from the internal evidence of Christianity in opposition to the external evidence. The moral argument never can be appreciated adequately, but by those on whom the in- ternal evidence of Christianity has pro- duced its right impressions. But before we proceed to consider strictly this argu- ment, let us attend to how it really stands in the theology of nature — for natural theology also lays claim to moral argu- ments. These have been drawn bj' phi- losophers from the moral state of the mind, and more especially from the pro- gressive expansion which thej' affirm to belong to it. Still we fear that, in re- spect of this argument, there is no expe- rience to support it. There is a beauty we do confess in many of their represen- tations. But beauty is only for them that sit at ease. It is a cruel mockery for the man who is stretched on the bed of death, and has in his view the dark ocean of annihilation and despair. Yes, we have heard them talk, and talk eloquently too, of the high and triumphant progression of the good man — of his virtues and of his prospects — and of his death being a gen- tle transition to a better world — of its be- ing the goal where he reaps the honoura- ble reward that is due to his character — as being little more than a step that leads him to a blessed immortality. Ay, this is all very fine, but it is the fineness of poetry. Where is the evidence that it is real 1 We see it not. Why so cruel an interruption to the progress 1 — why cross this awful and mysterious death ] — why is the good man not suffered to carry on in his triumphant progress! — and why comes this dark and unintelligible event to be interposed between him and the full ac- complishment of his destiny 1 You may choose to call it a step, but there is no virtue in a name to quell our suspicions — it bears in every circumstance all the marks of a termination. We see their fortitude giving way to the power of dis- ease— we see them withering into feeble- ness, and, instead of what has been called the dignity of man, we see the weakness and the fretful ness of age — we see the body bending to the dust — we see it ex- tended in all the agony of helplessness and pain, and yet we must call this a tri- umphant procession to eternity ! We ob- serve the emission of the last breath, but whether the spirit is extinct, or has fled to another region, nature tells us not. We call upon the philosopher to reveal the mystery of death — we ask why the good man has such an ordeal to undergo? — why, like the angels, does he not flou- rish in perpetual vigour 1 — and how shall we explain that universal allotment, with IMMORTALlTTt OP IHE SOUL. 47 all Its afFeclliig accompaniments of re- morse, and agony, and despair] Death, my friends, gives the lie to all such spe- culations of all such moralists ; but it only gives evidence and consistency to the statements of the gospel. The doctrines of the New Testament will bear to be confronted with the lessons of experience. They attempt no relaxment, and no pal- liation— they announce the truth in all its severity; nor do they attempt to strew flowers around the sepulchre, or throw a deceitful perfume into the rottenness of the grave. Were a physician to take up my case, and speak lightly of my ailment, while I knew that a consuming disease was lurking and making progress within me, I should have no confidence in him or in his remedies. I should like him to see the malady in its full extent, that the medicine applied may be such as to meet and to combat with it. Now, Christ, the \ physician of souls, has taken up our dis- ease in all its magnitude. There is no covering or concealment thrown over it. Their account of death accords with our experience of it. What they tell us of death is just what we feel it to be. Not that thing of triumph, to those void of Christianity and beyond the circle of its influence, that nature says, but a thing of distress, and horror, and unnatural vio- lence. He who is weak enough to be carried away b}'^ the false and flimsy re- presentations of sentimentalism, must be led to believe that each man who dies is only sinking gradually to repose, or wing- ing his way to an ethereal world. But the Bible talks to us of the sting, and pangs, and terrors of death ; and what we feel of the shrinking of nature, proves that it has experience upon its side. And those passages are particularly deserving our attention in which death is spoken of in its moral and spiritual bearings. Death, as it appears to the eye of the senses, is but the extinction of the life that we now live in the world ; but that death which is revealed to us in the gospel is the effect and consequence of sin — sin is the root of the mischief, and it is a mischief which Scripture represents as stretching in mag- nitude and duration far beyond the ken of the senses. Had we no other ken than the senses, we should conceive death to be utter annihilation. But distinct from the death of the body, there is what may be called the death of the soul, — not a death which consists in the extinction of its consciousness, for the consciousness of guilt will keep by it forever — not a death which implies the cessation of feeling, for that feeling will continue to the last,though the feeling of intensest suffering — not a death by which all sense of God will be expunged, for the sense of God's offended countenance will prey upon it and agonize it through all eternity. He who under- goes this second — this spiritual death does not thereby cease to have life, but he ceases to have the favour of God, which is better than life — he lives, it is- true, but it is the life of an exile from hope and from happiness — he lives, but it is in a state of hopeless distance from the fountain of living waters. God is at enmity towards him, and in his own hear* there is enmity towards God. This, a* least, is the death of all enjoyment ; it is the death of every thing which belongs to a right moral state of existence. In this sense verily the soul is dead, though alive, most perfectly alive, to the corro sions of the worm that never dies ; — in this sense there has been a quenching of its life, though all awake to the scorch ings of that fire which is never quenched Temporal death in such a case is only the portal to sorer calamities. All who sin shall die — but this is not the conclusion of the sentence — but all who die in sir shall live in torment. Now it promise well for our Saviour's treatment of thi" sore malady, that he hath, as it were placed himself at the source of the mis chief, and then made head against it. H hath combated the radical force and viru lence of the disease — he hath probed it t« the bottom, and has grappled with sin ir its origin and in its principle — he ha' taken it away ; for, by the sacrifice of himself upon the accursed tree, he ha^ expiated its guilt, and by the cperatiop of the Spirit in the heart of the helievei he is rooting out its existence. Had h' only put together the fragments of my body, and recalled the soul to its former tenement he should have done nothing — 48 THE BRITISH PULPIT. sin, both in its power and condemnation, would have claimed me as its own, and in appalling banishment from God it should have stepped in with an immortality, but an immortality of despair. But the au- thor of the gospel has swept oft' the whole tribe of combatants, and has made a deci- sive charge at the very heart and princi- ple of the disease. To estimate aright the new moral ex- istence into which Christ ushers every sinner who receives him, we have only to reflect for a moment on that state of distance and alienation from which He emancipates him. Formerly the man was either immersed in deepest oblivion and unconcern, in reference to that Be- ing who made all and who upholds all, or, if his conscience be at all awake to a true sense of the holiness of the law, he must view the lawgiver with feelings of dread, and discouragement, and jealousy. There is a wide field of alienation be- tween him and his Maker, and the fear- ful apprehensions of God's displeasure towards him engender in him back again additional dislike towards God. There is no community of aff'ection or fondness between them ; and pierced as he is b}'' a conviction of guilt which he cannot es-_ cape from, he imagines a scowl on the aspect of the Divinity — an awful barrier of separation by which he is hopelessly and irrecoverably exiled from the sacred presence of the Eternal. His Spirit is not at ease — he is glad to find relief, in the day-dreams of a busy world, from those solemn realities, the thought of which so often disquiets him; it seeks an opiate in the things of sense and of time, against the disturbance which it finds in the things of eternity; and so cradled is he in this profoundest lethargy, that while alive unto the world, he is dead unto God. We cannot imagine a greater revolution in the heart than that which is produced upon this distrust or apathy being done away. When, instead of viewing God with fear, or shrinking from the thought of him, the sinner can calmly gaze on his reconciled countenance, and be assured of the complacency and good will that are graven thereupon. Now, a simple faith in the glad tidings of the gospel is com- petent to awaken this. It loosens the spirit's bondage by transforming the as- pect of the divinity from the face of an enemy to that of a friend — it changes the sinner's hatred into love ; and this affec- tion, from the central, the commanding place, which it occupies, subordinates the whole man, and so utterly changes his moral system, as to make a new creature of him. The faith of the gospel is some- thing more than the formation of a new habit — it is the germ of a new heart, and so of a new character. The believer's sensibilities are now awakened to objects to which before he was morally dead. In other words, he now becomes alive to other objects, he expatiates on a new theatre of contemplation, and he rejoices in other scenes and in other prospects than before ; he has lost his relish for what he formerly delighted in, and he now delights in what he formerly had no delight; if he is not ushered into life for the first time, he is at least ushered into a new state of things — he undergoes pre- ferment from the animal to the spiritual life; and this life, with the immortality for which it is a preparation, is not only made clear by the gospel, but faith in the gospel may be said to have created it. Now all this, is the doing of the Sa- viour. He has fully exposed the disease, and he has brought to it a radical cure. I cannot trust the physician who dwells upon the surface of my disease, and throws over it the disguise of false co- louring. I have more confidence to put in him, who, like Christ, the physician of my soul, has looked the malady fairly in the face — has taken it up in all its ex- tent and in all its soreness — has resolved it into its original principles — has probed it to the very bottom, and has set himself forward to combat with the radical ele- ments of the disease. This is what our Saviour has done with death — he hath bereaved it of its sting — he has taken a full survey of the corruption, and met it in every one quarter where its malignity appeared. It was sin which caused the disease, and he hath extricated it — he hath put it away — he hath expiated the sentence — and the believer, rejoicing in the sense that all is clear with God, serves him without feai, in righteousness and IMMORTALITV OF THE SOUL. 49 holiness, all the days of his life. The sentence is no longer against us ; we be- hold the Saviour, and the sentence upon himself — " he bore our iniquities in his own body on the tree" — " he who knew no sin became sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." The sentence is no longer in force against us, as the Saviour has cancelled it. He has done more than this — he has not only cancelled the guilt of sin, he has destroyed its power — he reigns in the heart of the believer — he sweeps it of all its corruptions — he takes it up as it is — he makes it such as it should be — he brings the whole man under a thorough process of sanctification, so that while he lives, he adds one Christian grace unto another — when he dies, he rejoices in hope of the coming glory — when he stands at the bar of judgment, he is presented holy and unblamable in the sight of God and his Saviour. In the whole of his treatment, I see the skill, and intelli- gence, and supesior conduct of a physi- cian, who is up to the disease, and knows where the force of its malignity lies — who has a thorough insight into the pro- perties of the mischief, and has reached forth an adequate remedy to counteract it — who to abolish death, has directed the strength of his attack against sin, which is its origin — who has averted the con- demnation of sin, by an expiatory sacri- fice— and who has destroyed its power and influence by the operations of that mighty Spirit, whereby he can break down the corruptions of the human heart, and subdue it unto himself. This is no matter of mere idle declama- tion; there is many a minister of Christ who could give you experience for it. He can take you to the house of mourn- ing, to the chamber of the dying man. He can draw aside the curtain which covers the last hours of the good man's existence, and show you how a good man can die. He can ask you to bend your ear, and catch the last faltering accents of praise and piety. What meaneth that joy in the midst of suffering — that hope in the midstof approaching dissolution — that elevation lu the midst of cruelest agonies? It is not his own merit that Vol. I.— 7 sustains him, it is the merit of the exalted Saviour. It is not a sense of his own righteousness that gives peace to his con- science, it is the righteousness of Christ; it is a hope of being found in him, and a sense of the forgiveness which he has re- ceived through his hand. In a word, it is Christ who resolves the mystery ; it is his presence that pours tranquillity and joy among such scenes of distress; it is he who dispenses fortitude to the dying man ; and while despair sits on every countenance, and relations are weeping around him, he enables him to leave them all with this exulting testimony, " O death, where is thy sting ! O grave, where is thy victory !" While we hold out this triumphant prospect to those who entertain the over- tures of reconciliation, we would urge all, even those who have not yet been visited with a spirit of concern and inquiry, to bestow one single thought on the great practical importance of the subject. The very sound of such words as life and death, judgment and immortality, should reduce you to sacred ness — should set you to the work of serious reflection on this subject. We have the vantage ground of your own experience on which to stand while we endeavour thus to urge you. For your experience at least tells you thus much — that the time that is past, when you look back to it, appears as if it were nothing; and you may believe from this, that the time which is to come, will come as quickly, and appear as little, and as un- worthy to be suffered to tempt you away from eternity by its pleasures, which are but for a season, as the period of your life that is already gone. The very moment of your final farewell, if you are not pre- viously cut short by death, which is a very possible thing, that moment will come, and old age will come, and the last sickness will come, and the dying bed will come, and the last look you shall ever cast upon your relations will come, and the agony of the parting breath will come, and the time that you will be stretched a lifeless corpse before the eyes of your weeping relations will come, and the coffin that is to enclose you will come, and that hour when the company assem- 50 THE BRITISH PULPIT. bles to carry you to the gliurchyarcl will come, and that mpmentwhen you are put into the grave will come, and the throw- ing in of the earth upon it, all — all will come on every living creature who now hears me. And in a few little years the minister who now addresses you, and each one who now listens, will be carried to their long home: now all this will come. Yes, and the day of reckon- ing will come ; and the appearance of the Son of God in heaven, and his holy angels around him will come ; and the opening of the books will come ; and the appearance of everyone of you before the judgment-seat will come; and the solemn passing of the sentence which is to fix you for eternity will come; and if you refuse to be reconciled to God in the name of Christ, now that he is beseech- ing you to repent, and if you refuse to turn from the evil of your ways, and to do and to be what your Saviour requires you to be and to do, I must tell you what the sentence is, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his anirels." THE PUIiFIT Giii:jX.ERV. NO. I. THE REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. P'-ofessor of Divinity in the University of EdinbuTsh. " A warrior in the Christian field Who never saw the sword he could not wield." COWPER. This celebrated ornament of the church and of letters is a native of the county of Fife, Scotland, where his ancestors have long been distinguished and respected as substantial agriculturists. After receiv- ing a grammatical education in the coun- try, he removed to the college of Edin- burgh, where he was marked as a diligent student ; but did not evince any extraor- dinary vigour of intellect. Though des- tined for the ministerial office, he rather preferred the lectures of Professor Robi- son, who filled the mathematical chair, to those of Dr. Hunter, who presided over the divinity class. Mr. Chalmers, how- ever, did not neglect the peculiar studies more immediately requisite to qualify him for the important and varied duties of the pastoral care. In due course he was licensed as a probationary preacher, and after serving a short time as an assist- ant, he obtained a presentation to the living of Kilmany, over which cure he was regularly placed in 1802. This is a considerable port town on the northern shore of the Frith of Forth ; which, from its situation, afforded ample scope for ministerial diligence. Mr. Chalmers spent some years here, without attracting any particular notice beyond the bounds of his parish, or producing any visible reformation in it upon the principles and manners of the people. His studies in fact were more directed to political econo- my than to practical theology ; as his first literary performance evinced. It will seem extraordinary to most persons, that a man of learning, regularly educated for the ministry, and holding a benefice in such a country as Scotland, should have the spirit of religion to acquire, after exercising the teacher's office in a large parish for some years. The case however, though truly lamentable, is by no means singular. During a course ot study on several branches of theology, connected with certain articles which he had engaged to write for an Encyclopae- dia projected by Dr. Brewster, he began to suspect the correctness of his former views of the Christian religion. In fol- lowing up this doubt, he soon discovered the reason why his preaching against vice had been so ineflicacious. At Kil- many he laboured for more than twelve years, and after his removal to Glasgow, where he had been invited to take charge of the Zion church, he published an ad- dress to his former parishioners, in which he gave an account of the great change that occurred in his ministerial conduct while resident. among them. After min- istering at the Zion church about three years, Dr. Chalmers was transferred to the more extensive charge of St. John's parish, in Glasgow, where he continued to labour with the most beneficial effect for several years, until he accepted the IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 51 chair of moral philosophy in the Univer- sity of St. Andrew's, from whence he was removed in 1828 to the professorship of divinity at Edinburgh. The popularity of this eminent divine is not an ephemeral admiration, gained by the art of an insinuating address, or the glare of a specious eloquence. His appearance in the pulpit is rather repul- sive than inviting. The inflexibility of his features — his small pale eyes nearly half closed — his tone, at the commence- ment, low, and almost drawling — his utterance, naturally rough, made much more so by his broad Scotch accent — his gesture, though earnest, not remarkably expressive — his action, often inelegant and unappropriate, may almost prejudice a stranger against him. But he must be a very superficial observer, a very care- less and insensible hearer, whose atten- tion is not soon arrested and fixed. The eye kindling iijto unusual brilliancy — the countenance beaming with intelligence — the whole man labouring to give utterance to mighty conceptions : — all force the hearer to confess the preacher's power, and to feel that he is in the presence of a master-spirit of the age. The forte of Dr. Chalmers is generally thought to be in his might}' power for illustrating the external and internal evi- dences of Christianity, and the identity of the whole system with the principles of sound philosophy. From the pulpit and through the press he has proved, most clearly and triumphantly, that all which is sound and true in philosophy leads to religion ; that all which has a contrary tendency is, by the showing of philoso- phy herself, false and hollow. Having placed a portrait of Dr. Chal- mers in our group at the commencement of this volume, and associated him with the late Rev. Robert Hall, we will close this sketch by an article from the " Church of Ireland Magazine," in which these two eminent men are placed in juxta- position, written, it has been thought, by the present bishop of Calcutta. "To COMPARE Mr. Ham, with ano- ther SPLENDID GENIUS OF OUR AGE, Dr. Chalmers, is a difficult, and perhaps an invidious task. They are both highly gifted and most powerful men, raised up and qualified for great service to the church of Christ; but they are very dif- ferent in their style and character of mind. As to the use of the English language and purity of composition, Mr. Hall, the most elegant writer of his day, stands confessedly vastly superior to Dr. Chal- mers, whose corruptions, neglects, inven- tions, and bad taste, make his finest dis- courses at times unintelligible. But this is an introductory and very inferior point As to power of mind, I should think Dr. Chalmers the more daring and vigorous, and Mr. Hall the more delicate and acute reasoner. Dr. Chalmers is bold ; Mr. Hall beautiful. Dr. Chalmers seizes one idea, which he expands by amplifi- cation and reiteration through a discourse; Mr. Hall combines and works up a variety of arguments in support of his topic; never loses sight of his point; touches every subject briefly, and with exquisite taste ; and leaves an impression upon the mind m'ore soft, more pleasing, but perhaps not much less powerful, than his great contemporary. Dr. Chalmers gives only one or two projecting truths, and leaves his subject confessedly incom- plete : his sermons are composed of many separate thoughts slightly linked to one another ; and like the reaches in the ma- jestic course of the Rhine, which succeed each other by breaks, and expand upon the eye with extraordinary beauty when you enter them, but are succeeded by a narrow flow of the stream at each inter- val, his sermons are a succession of bold and magnificent truths wrought out with strength, and then left by the preacher, that he may press on to the next mighty idea. Mr. Hall's sermons are a beautiful whole ; less daring in the general parts, but more closely connected ; coming on the mind with greater conviction, and expanding his one important subject at once before the view ; as the wide and fair lakes of Switzerland spread their varied, and complete, and connected beau ties before the eye of the spectator. Dr. Chalmers, in short, is more impassioned, Mr. Hall more sublime ; the one declaims, the other argues; the first storms the mind, the second charms it and unfolds all 62 THE BRITISH PULPIT. its sympathies. Dr. Chalmers is adapted for the popular ear : his bold and reite- rated statements, his overwhelming tide of words, his projecting and striking imagery, his small number of distinct thoughts enforced in various different forms ; all make him the preacher for the crowded popular auditory. Mr. Hall is the preacher for the scholar, the student, the metaphysician, the man of elegant education, the fastidious proud despiser of spiritual religion, the pretender to a philosophy not thoroughly fathomed. His master-mind, his acute insight into the very inmost soul, his candour towards his opponents, his infinite reverence for Holy Scripture, his cautious conclusive argumentation, his delicate and sublime bursts of imagery, his superiority to party feelings and interests, ensure the atten- tion, and fix the conviction, of every com- petent and unprejudiced hearer. " As to USEFULNESS, the palm must be conceded, for the present age, to Dr. Chalmers : he is more bold, more deci- sive, more capable of frequent effort, more ready to commit his unfinished composi- tions to the press, more negligent of the minuter graces which fetter Mr. Hall, and limit his efforts, and have left him, after fifty years of public life, the author of far fewer works, and those works of less extent and less general importance, than Dr. Chalmers has produced in one fourth portion of that time. In THE NEXT AGE, it is possible Mr. Hall's publications may fetch up the way he appears to have lost in the present. All his practical writings will live, and exercise a powerful sway over the public mind, when many of Dr. Chalmers's may have done their work and been forgotten. Had Mr. Hall more of the bold and intre- pid character of Dr. Chalmers ; would he write with less anxiety and refinement ; would he devote himself to the prosecu tion of some great national topic, touching the interests of morals and religion; would he disregard more his own feel- ings, in order to do good in a transitory world ; there is nothing which he might not be capable of eSecting, under God's blessing : for no man of the present age has gained the ear, and fixed the love and admiration of his countrymen more than Robert Hall." SERMON IV. (GLORYING IN THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST. BY THE REV. ROBERT NEWTON. [am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; Jo tt is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth." — Rom. i. 16. Man is a creature of passion, as well as of reason ; and although we readily admit that the latter is far superior to the former, and that it gives a distinctive peculiarity to our species, yet, still the movements and sensibilities of our spe- cies which come under the general de- scription of passion, form a very essen- tial and a very important part of our nature. It is, however, my friends, a fact no less evident than it is lamentable, that human passions are awfully perverted and depraved by sin, — that they have taken a wrong direction, and are too generally exercised in direct opposition to their original design. This remark will hold good in its application to the general passion of shame of which the apostle speaks. This is a passion which ^ was originally designed by the Author of our being to act the part of a sentinel, CO give a sensible and salutary check and alarm, in case of any approach to- wards the precincts ot folly or of crime. But so totally is this principle blinded and perverted, that we too frequently see human beings glorying in that of which they ought to be ashamed, and we see them ashamed of that in which they ought to glory ; we see them pursuing unblush- ingly the paths of folly and of sin ; whilst they are ashamed of the way of holiness, of Christ, and of the gospel. Where, however, converting grace takes place, a beneficial change is produced, — a change so real, so deep, so extensive, that old things are done away, and all things become new. One part of the change effected by the power of convert- ing grace consists in rectifying every thing that is wrong in our passions, giving them the proper direction, and bringing them under the controlling influence of truth and of religion. Behold, in the particular case of the great apostle of the Gentiles, these ob- servations are exemplified. You are aware there was a period in his history when he courageously contended for his own imaginary excellencies, and for the abrogated rites and ceremonies of the Mosaic economy, while he was at the same time ashamed of Christ and of his gospel. Actuated by a zeal at once the most intolerant and the most blind, he haled to prison all he could find who called on the name of Jesus ; not being ashamed to consent — indeed he did con- sent— to the death of the first Christian martyr ; nor did he blush to witness that horrid deed. But see what a complete reverse ot character converting grace effected, — what a mighty moral revolution in all his thinkings, and feelings, and sayings, and doings. The recollection of his former prejudices, and errors, and cruelties covers him with confusion ; he blushes with shame at the remembrance of them ; and although God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven him, he never could forgive himself. But no longer is he ashamed of Christ, and of the gospel : — " What things," says he, " were gain to me, those I countdfl loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge ot Christ Jesus, my Lord." Not only do we now behold the Jew become a Chris- E 2 53 54 THE BRITISH PULPIT. tian, but we behold the persecutor become an apostle, and avowing himself the will- ing and courageous advocate of that faith which he had formerly madly destroyed. " So, as much as in me is," he says, " 1 am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also ;" I have preached it in other places — I have preached it " from Jerusalem round about to Illyricum ;" and now I long to bear the same testimony for my divine Master in the imperial city. " For I am not ashamed" — I was once, but I am not now — " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ ; for it is tlie power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth." Let us mark the nature and the ground of this avowal, — the profession which the apostle makes, — and the reason for it which he assigns. I. The nature and the ground of THIS AVOWAL. He profcsses himself " not ashamed of the gospel." What is the gospel 1 The gospel is good news, glad tidings. It was an- nounced by the angel who proclaimed the Saviour's advent, " Behold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy." The gospel announces the best tidings that ever were published, the best news to which mortals ever listened, — news of sah Christ the Lord, — light for those that are in darkness — pardon for those that are guilty — mercy for those that are misera- ble— liberty for those that are hound — salvation for those that are lost — life for tliose that are dead. The gospel com- prehends the whole scheme of redemp- tion— consisting, indeed, of doctrines, and of precepts, and of promises, and of threatenings, and of ordinances, which we are not about to detail this evening. But we call the gospel a system, because it consists of various parts ; and yet, all its parts may be resolved into the one grand doctrine of redemption and salva- tion by our Lord Jesus Christ. " God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them." This is the record, — yes, and of all that is recorded this is the sum, — " God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son;" and " he that hath the Son hath life." And although this dispensation of truth, of grace, and of salvation, was somewhat obscurely unfolded under earlier dispen- sations of the church, it is now made fully manifest by the appearing of our Saviour, Christ, who hath " abolished death, and brought life and immortality to light by the gospel." Now, if we do not greatly mistake the apostle in the very frequent use he makes, of the term " gospel," he directly and immediately means by it, the doctrine of salvation by a crucified Jesus. We give you our reasons for this. When addressing the Corinthian church, the apostle explains the sense in which he uses this passage. " More- over, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand ; by which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain. For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins, according to the Scrip- tures." Now, that was the very essence of the gospel in the apostolical sense o: that expression — " Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures." Had vation, tidings of a Saviour who i^ lie used the term in the vague and gene. ral sense in which it is employed by some, — had he intended nothing more by " the gospel," than the unity of the divine nature, the doctrine of divine pro- vidence, the immutable and everlasting distinctions between right and wrong, between vice and virtue, — the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, the great and golden rule of equity — " As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise ;" — had the apos- tle meant nothing more than these things by " the gospel," he would never have dreamed of saying he was not ashamed of them. It was not at these things that the lite- rati of the day scoffed and derided ; no, no, — it was at Christ crucified, — that doc- trine so revolting to the pride of our fallen nature. Christ crucified was to the Jews a stumbling-block ; and foolish- ness to the pride of tlie haughty Greek. GLORYING IN THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST. 55 Aye, and to this very hour the Christian preacher may discourse on the doctrine of Deity, — he may preach on the doc- trine of eternal providence, — he may preach on the soul's immortality, and man's moral accountability to the .God that made him, — he may lecture as long as he pleases on the golden rule to which we have already adverted, and men will approve of this ; infidels and semi-infi- dels will signify their approbation : but the moment he begins to speak about the doctrine of salvation by the atoning sa- crifice of Jesus, then they begin to scoff, and to sneer, and to deride this as the foolishness of folly. I say, therefore, had Ihe apostle merely referred to these things, he had never dreamed of saying, " I am not ashamed of the gospel :" but, by " the gospel," he referred to the great doctrines of the cross ; and in reference to them he says, " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ." And, besides this, he adds, in imme- diate connexion with the text, " For, therein" — Wherein 1 In this gospel, — " For therein," in this gospel, " is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith," By " the righteousness of God " he does not mean the essential rectitude of the divine nature, but he means, God's method of constituting a sinner righteous in his sight, which is only through faith in the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ. Now this gospel, this good news, is emphatically the good neivs of Christ. Those who published the good news were careful to inform those to whom they addressed it, that it did not originate with themselves, that they had received of the Lord that which they declared to the people. Not only as a Divine Person had the scheme its origination in tlie inmost mind of God our Saviour, but by him, as the great Mediator between God and man, it has been revealed. That expression in the epistle to the He- brews is true to a much wider extent than is generally understood^ Speaking of the gospel, he says, " Which at first be- gan to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed unto us by them that heard him." Now, it did not first begin to be spoken by the Lord when he exercised his personal ministry in our world, but in his appropriate character as the mes- senger of the covenant, the angel of Je- hovah; all those rays of light, those beams and tints of mercy, that illumined the early dispensations, came from Christ, the star of Jacob; yes, just as certainly as the bright effulgence of evangelical light and truth with which we are sur- rounded, bursts from Christ, the glorious Sun of Righteousness. And, in addition to this early manifestation of this good news, in the fulness of time, in the exer- cise of his ministry, he published it as his. own, and delivered it in his own name, and by his own right and authority ; ha has also signed it with his own hand, and, sealed it with his own seal ; and he has authenticated his signature and his seal with signs and wonders, and divers mira- cles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost, accord- ing to the will of God. My friends, the gospel is divine, it is from heaven, and not of men ; Jesus Christ is its author. And it is not only the good news of Christ coming from him, but it is the good news concerning him ; for this gospel is the good news ot Christ concerning his person, his works, his atoning acts, his saving benefits, his kingdom, his glory. Take these things out of the gospel, and what have you left behind 1 Examine those different editions of the gospel, if I may so express myself, which have been put forth at diflerent periods of time, and under different dis- pensations of the church, and you will find they are full of Christ. That first edition in the patriarchal age, though certainly somewhat obscure, contained many promises of a deliverer, who was to suffer that he might save ; that great deliverer was Christ, the promised seed that was to bruise the serpent's head ; and the patriarchs saw these promises obscure- ly, as it were, and were persuaded of their truth ; they embraced them, died in faith in the promised Messiah who was to come, and anticipated by faith the bene- fits of his death. If you examine that edition of the gospel contained in the writings of the Hebrew prophets, you will find mucb 56 TILE BRITISH PULPIT. concerning the illustrious personage who was to appear in our world, who was to establish a kingdom, who was to extend his conquests and his triumphs, and whose kingdom was to have no end. Then this illustrious person was to suffer in order that he might reign. And who was this but the Lord Christ, to whom all the pro- phets bare witness 1 And if you examine that splendid and imposing edition of the gospel contained in the Mosaic ritual, there is much gos- pel there. What find you there 1 You find types and shadows, and signs,, and symbols, and figurative representations. Of all these types, Jesus Christ was the great antitype — of these shadows he was the substance — of these symbols Christ was the thing signified. And then, if you examine the last and perfect edition of the gospel contained in the narrative of the evangelists, what find you ] You find a most interesting history — a history of Christ — his birth, his life, his teaching, his ministry, his death, his resurrection, his exaltation to his king- dom. You find doctrmes — the doctrines of Christ ; you find precepts — the pre- cepts of Christ; you find the promises — the promises of Christ ; and you find tlie ordinances — the ordinances of Christ ; every thing in the gospel is full of Christ. Christ is also the end of the gospel. Every thing in the gospel is designed to conduct men to Christ, that they may know and love him, and believe in him, and resemble him, and love to honour him. Remember the record given of that extraordinary star which arrested the attention of the wise men in the east, and which they followed till it conducted them to the very spot where Jesus Christ was. Every thing in the gospel is to act the part of that star. If we fix our eye on it, it will conduct us to Christ, that we may know him and love him. What is the gospel without Christ 1 A cloud without water ; a shadow without a sub- stance ; a body without a spirit. Now, says the apostle, " of this gospel of Christ I am not ashamed ;" — I am not confused ; it does not make me blush ; I am not discouraged by any thing in the gospel. Let us ask four questions here. Of what is this spoken ? Of the gospel of Christ. As though the apostle had said, I am not ashamed of its doctrines. Are they not all wise 1 Are they not all important ■? Are they not all instructive 1 Are they not all of infinite concern to every human being. What is there in the gospel of Christ to make a wise man blush ■? The more carefully and prayer- fully you examine them, the more you see their excellence and feel their importance. As though the apostle had said, I am not ashamed of the precepts of the gospel. Are they not all holy, and just, and good, and benevolent] What is there in any precept of the gospel of Jesus Christ of which a good man can be ashamed 1 I am not ashamed of the threatenings of the gospel. Though some have repre- sented them as harsh and severe, they are all righteous, and they are all holy ; they are all intended and directed against sin, and are all calculated to promote holiness and happiness. They are, therefore, only modifications of the goodness and love of their great Author. I am not ashamed of the promises of the gospel ; they contain the very things we want. Are they not rich ■? Are they not admirable and various? Are they not sure and certain 1 — are they not " yea and amen" in Christ Jesus I What is there in the privileges and pro- mises of the gospel to make a Christian blush ■? I am not ashamed of the ordi- nances of the gospel. It is true, the)^ are few in number, and very simple in their nature ; but they are highly significant ; they are full of meaning, and are effica- cious whenever they are properly dis- pensed and advocated. I am not ashamed of the gospel as the gospel of Christ, its divine Author. Though meanly born in Bethlehem — though for him there was no room in the inn — though born in a stable, and laid in a manger — though the reputed son of a carpenter — though when he came forth from obscurity, and entered on his public ministry, he had not where to lay his head — though he was persecuted, though he was crucified, though he suffered and died — though all this was true, yet he rose triumphant as a God, and by his GLORYING IN THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST. 57 resurrection from the dead was declared to be the Son of God with power, accord- ing to the Spirit of holiness. He is, there- fore, the Prince of Life, the Conqueror of Death, the Lord of Glory, the Captain of our salvation ; and I am, therefore, not ashamed of him. 'inent whereby the energy of God, the Holy Ghost, is communicated to the hearts of men. The gospel is the dispensation of the Spirit, and the Spirit is a dispensation of power; and, where the gospel is faithfully preached, the Spirit of power is present ; so that while the word of the gospel falls on the ear, and the ideas of the gospel are communicated to the understanding, the power of the Holy Ghost touches the 60 THE BRITISH PULPIT. heart and the conscience, and the gospel comes " not in word only," though it does come in word, "but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance." Take into consideration the/our follow- ing circumstances, and try to ascertain the greatness of that power that marked the first propagation of the gospel. In the first place, the poiverful, combined, and universal opposition which it had to contend with. Every thing rose in oppo- sition against the gospel ; all the preju- dices of the people, all the bad passions of the people, all the institutions of the people, the craft of the people being in danger — yea, and the civil arm, too, lifted up, and the whole world in arms against the gospel. Then, again, the feeble, and slender, and (humanly speaking) incompetent instru- ments employed. What, was a considerable army sent forth in full equipment, with fire and sword, to dragoon the nations into a profession of Christian faith 1 No, my friends, the weapons of their warfare were not carnal. There is no way by which coercion can travel and arrive at a man's mind ; mental error cannot be cut to pieces by the sword. These men went forth — twelve simple, artless men — pen- nyless and powerless ; with nothing but simple truth to publish, and in that name to conquer the world ; the world being up ill arms against them wherever they go, and yet the world conquered by them ! Think, in the next place, what the gos- pel had to do. It had to produce a moral renovation ; it had to illuminate the mind, to sanctify the heart, to regulate the life, to make all things new. I do not wonder, then, that these were said to be men who " turned the world upside down." Yes, indeed ; but the moral world was wrong side up. And yet it triumphed. Think of the extent of the triumph. To such an extent did they carry the gospel that the language which the Psalmist uttered, in reference to the heavenly bodies, was applied to the extensive con- quests of these men by the gospel : " Their line is gone through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world." Think, then, of this universal opposi- tion— think of the feeble instruments em- ployed— think of what the gospel had to do, and the wide extent to which it travelled and triumphed, and say, was not this the power of God] On what other principle can you possibly account for the fact, that the gospel, under such circumstances, did thus triumph 1 Ah, my friends ! and the gospel is still the power of God. I confess to you all, that if I did not believe the gospel still to be the power of God, I should utterly despair of any such effects. One man cannot change the heart of another. Not the language employed — not the ideas communicated ; oh, no ! there must be an energy divine ; the power of the Lord must be present, and that power must apply the truth ; and, therefore, we see the power of God still manifested. Take an instance now. On Sabbath evening last but one, in the town of Devonport, a poor, besotted, careless old man — an old man-of-war's man, I believe — came into the chapel, and those who knew him best, believed he had never spent five minutes in his life in thinking, " What am 1 1 Whither am 1 going? Is there another world ? Have I a soul as well as a body 1" He saw a large crowd, and he thought he would try to get in. He succeeded in the at- tempt ; and it pleased the Lord, though the preacher drew the bow at a venture, to direct an arrow that hit, and an arrow that pierced that old sailor's inmost soul, and to stick fast there ; he was judged ot all — he was condemned of all ; the tears began to gush from those eyes that had scarcely ever wept before, and he began to sigh. As he returned home, he wept, and said to a person, " I cannot rest till God has mercy on me ; my conscience condemns me: I am guilty; I am pe- rishing; what shall I do V And the per- son told me, the following evening, that he was still pleading with the Lord, de- termined not to rest till he found redemp- tion in the blood of Christ. Now, I ask you, what was that but the power of God ? Take another instance illustrative of the power of the gospel. Here is a Pharisee (the Pharisees were GLORYING IN THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST. 61 not peculiar to the Jews of old time ; there are Pharisees under the Christian name and garb, who think themselves righteous and despise others,) here is an old man, now, grey in his Pharisaism ; and, in the pride of his heart, he has been saying, many years, " Stand by, for I am holier than thou." Many a time he has affected to thank his Maker that he was not as other men — no drunkard, no pro- fane swearer, no Sabbath-breaker. Many a time has he said, " All these things have I kept from my youth up." He has erected for himself, by his own skill, and by the might of his own arm, a lofty superstructure of self-righteousness, and thinks the materials of it very sound, and considers himself perfectly secure in it. Even this is brought into contact with the gospel ; and what is the gospel in such a case 1 It is a conductor to convey the lightning, not from it, but to it. Struck by the lightning of heaven, the power of God, this superstructure of self- righteousness is shivered to atoms, and all the props, and pillars, and depend- encies of the Pharisee are broken to pieces ; and there you behold him on his knees, with uplifted hands and contrite heart, for the first time in his life, saying, " God be merciful to me a sinner !" What is this ? This is the power of God. The gospel has not lost its power ; the gospel is still accompanied by the influ- ence of the Spirit. Here lies our strength — here lies our hope. The gospel is powerful to wound, and it is powerful to heal ; it is powerful to pull down, and it is powerful to build up again ; it is powerful to kill a man's self-confidence, and it will save " with all the power of an endless life." And, therefore, the apostle speakfe of the saving efficacy of this gospel : " it is the power of God to salvation." The salvation of the gospel is a salvation from sin. Man has sinned — all have sinned ; and, because all have sinned, all are guilty ; and, because all are guilty, all are obnoxious to punish- ment. But Jesus Christ is the Saviour ; he came into the world to save sinners ; to save sinners he lived, to save sinners he died, to save sinners he rose from the dead, to save sinners he took human na- ture up to the right hand of tlie Majesty on high, where " he ever liveth to make intercession for the transgressors ;" and " he is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him." He saves from sin, from the guilt and power of sin, from the pollution of sin, and from the penalty due to sin. Now, the gospel not only unfolds this salvation in all its length, and breadth, and fulness, and glory, but it becomes the instrument of communicating the sal- vation it has to unfold. Look at the man who is saved by the gospel ; his mind is enlightened, his will is subdued, his conscience is washed from guilt, his affections are sanctified, his life is formed according to the precepts of the gospel ; he becomes, not physically, but spiritually and morally, a new creature. He is saved from darkness to light; he is saved from bondage to glorious liberty ; he is saved from sin to holiness ; he is saved from misery to happiness ; he is saved from death to life. Look at this man, and see the happy change that has taken place, and ask by what this is produced"? By the gospel of Christ. Shall we, then, be ashamed of it] — of the gospel of Christ, that saves men — that makes men wise, and happy, and holy in themselves — the gospel of Christ, by the power and influence of which vice is subdued, so that he who was a drunkard is become sober, and he who was a swearer fears an oath, and he who was dissolute becomes chaste \ And by what means was this effected 1 By the gospel of Christ. The gospel of Christ has done more to make men holy and happy in a few weeks or months than all the boasted systems of philosophy and science put forth by the sages of Greece and Rome could ef- fect in ages. They could not bring the inhabitants of an obscure village to live according to their views of moral science. But oh, what does the gospel accom plish ! I do not wonder that not a man durst accept the challenge of St. Paul : — " Where is the wise 1 Where is the scribe ? Where is the disputer of this world ■?" Ah, where are you now % \ ou laughed at me and the gospel — you thought I was a foolish man, and had no- F 62 THE BRITISH PULPIT. ihin^ but the foolishness of folly to pro- claim ! But where are the elements with which you were to renovate mankind ^ Where are the victories you have won 1 Where are the trophies of your triumphs 1 If you have conquered to this extent, point us to the countries — tell us where the countries are. Not a man of them has a word to say. But St. Paul could point to many nations which had been subdued by the gospel to the obedience of the faith. Let it be observed, however, that this gospel is the power of God to every one that believeth — not to every one that kear^ etk ; it is one thing to hear the gospel, and it is another thing to believe the gospel so as to be saved by it. On this point, our individual, personal salvation, hangs — " to every one that believeth" — be- lieveth what 1 To every • one that be- lieveth the gospel to be of Christ, to be what it professes to be — and who gives full credence to the testimony that " this is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners ;" and that there is no other name given amongst men whereby they may be saved. I know that some people, very incau- tiously, as it seems to me, undervalue this ; and I have heard persons say it is nothing to believe this. We know it is something. A man may be saved from infidelity who believes the gospel to be true, and who believes Jesus to be the Son of God. Still there are those who tell us that they believe the gospel is of divine origin, and yet are not saved ; the credence which they attach to testimony does not exert any influence on their hearts or conduct ; they are living " with- out God in the world ;" their faith does not come up to the apostolic standard. What believing in order to be saved is, we are told by St. Paul in another pldfce, when he says, " With the heart man be- lieveth unto righteousness." He does not say with the head merely, or with the understanding ; I know the understanding will perceive that I am a sinner, and that Christ is the Saviour; but I must not stop here ; if I do, I stop short of salva- (Toii There must be the dedication of the heart to Christ; there must be the submission of the will to Christ — the close determination of the will ; and there must be the embracing of the Saviour with all the affections of the heart. Thus man, believing with the heart unto righteous- ness, confession is made with the tongue unto salvation : and, my fellow-sinner, if thou " confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in thine heart that God raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved :" according to thy faith it shall be done unto thee — in every step of thy reli- gious progress, and in the way of spiritual attainment, it shall be done according to thy faith. Thus believing becomes a settled habit; and thus the Christian lives by faith, and is saved by faith. Observe the impartiality of this — " 7b every one that believeth ; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek ;" for " unto the Gentiles also hath God granted repent- ance unto life." " To every one that believeth," without respect to condition — whether they are high or low, whether th'ey are rich or poor, noble or ignoble. There is not one salvation for a rich man, and another for a poor man : no, it must be by faith, simple faith in Christ Jesus. " To every one that believeth," without respect to colour ; for souls have no dis- criminating hues ; God has made and redeemed by his blood all nations that dwell on the face of the earth ; to every one, therefore, from the fair European to Afric's sable son, it will apply ; from the everlasting snow and frost and ice of Greenland and Lapland,to the paradisaical islands that lie on the bosom of the South- ern Ocean. The gospel, being a universal remedy, will operate in every tempera- ture, from the frigid to the torrid zone ; and, wherever it is truly received, it works effectually in them that believe. " To every one that believeth," without regard to circumstances; for in Jesus Christ there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free ; but Christ is all, and in all." " To every one that believeth" — with- out regard to language or tongue. The period shall come when the gospel shall be published, and when the gospel shall be embraced by all the languages of this GLORYING IN THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST. 63 babbling world 1 What a miracle was that which took place on the day of Pen- tecost— when the apostles of our Lord in a single moment received the knowledge of languages they had never studied in the ordinary way; and received the power to give utterance to their sentiments most correctly and fluently — which was a greater miracle still ; so that these Par- thians, and Medes, and Elamites, the dwellers in Mesopotamia and in Judea, Cretes and Arabians, and others which are mentioned, all heard the apostles speak every man in the language wherein he was born — that is, the language spoken in the country of their birth — the wonder- ful works of God. Think you that this was not designed by Providence to be a sort of earnest and specimen of what will assuredly take place when, by means of Bible institutions and missionary efforts, the languages of the world shall have the word of God rendered into them (and into a large portion has it already been ren- dered) and the word of God preached in those languages — so that not only Euro- pean and American, but Asiatic and Afri- can, and those that dwell in the remote islands of the sea, shall hear Christ and the apostles, and Moses and the prophets, declare the wonderful works of God in the redemption and salvation of men. Now, see how all this bears on the pro- fession made by the apostle : " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; for it is the power of God to salvation to every one that believeth," Had it been a power- less thing, the apostle would have blushed to have been identified with it; had it been powerful to destroy, and not to save, he would have been ashamed to own it; had it been designed for the benefit of a few individuals, the apostle would never have laboured for its propagation. But, when he says it is the power of God, not to destroy, but to save — when he says, " It is the power of God to every one that believeth," good reason had he to say — good reason have we also to say, " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ." Let us learn from this subject the evil of religious cowardice, and take care to avoid it. If the apostle had been a coward, the avowal in the text would never have been made ; had he been a coward in the ser- vice of his Master, the declaration of the text had never been recorded ; had himselt and his colleagues been cowards, they had not gone on in the face of opposition, and insult, and danger, and death ; but, when persecution arose, every one of them could say, " None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God." I know but one instance in which Paul was nearly ^ overcome ; and that was when his courage and his heroism were nearly overpowered by the sympathy and tenderness of his friends, recorded in the Acts of the Apos- tles. The servant of the Lord had preached, and Jesus had blessed his preaching; he had given his servant seals to his ministry, and they were his spiritual children. Ah, but he must leave them ! The parting work was hard work, and their tears -all but overcame the apostle. And what said he ? " What mean ye to weep, and to break mine heart ■?" I can face danger; I can look my enemies in the face ; I hesitate not to declare the gospel, though stripes and imprisonments await me ; I can go to the stake for the sake of the gospel ; I can endure all this ; but these tears overcome me I " Whatf mean ye to weep, and to break mine heart?" No ; he remembered whose servant he was ; he remembered the high office he sustained ; and, sum- moning up all his courage, rising above the tenderness of friendship, he exclaimed, " I am ready to go bound to Jerusalem, and to die for the name of the Lord Jesus !" But who are the men who are ashamed of the gospel ? Certainly there is no being in heaven who is ashamed of the gospel ; angels are not ashamed of the gospel ; " the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow," were the things which " the angels desired to look into." The redeemed of Adam's race that are hal- lowed and made meet for heaven, and who have obtained admission there — they are not ashamed of the gospel ; they are attributing to the gosp'^' the glory of con ducting them to that ' '.©issed inheritance 64 THE BRITISH PULPIT. of light and love. Where, then, do we find those who are ashamed of the gospel 1 Do you think any of the beings in the in- fernal world would be ashamed of it could it be preached to them as the instrument of salvation'? Would not every eye glisten, and every countenance beam with attention ? Ah ! but their doom is sealed ! Their harvest is past ! — Their summer is ended ! — They cannot be saved ! Where, then, do we find those who are ashamed of the gospel] Why, if they can be found any where, they must be found on earth ; they are nowhere else. Can we find any among the truly wise, the truly good, the truly useful, the truly holy 1 I know no such person. Who are the men that are ashamed of the gos- pel ] Why the men who ought to be ashamed of themselves ! What! ashamed of the system of divine truth — a system that is full of goodness, and benevolence, and holiness — a system so worthy of God, so adapted to the circumstances of men ! Ashamed of the gospel of Christ! — No, no ! Let the proud, haughty infidel be ashamed of his gloomy and degraded system, (if system it may be called,) a system which degrades man into a kind of rational animal, making him the inha- bitant of a body which, when it has answered its purpose, for any thing he can tell to the contrary, must be laid in darkness and in death, qjid man must cease to be. Is this the dignity of human nature 1 What was the case with respect to one of those blood-stained infidels in this metropolis, eight or ten years ago 1 At the fatal spot, just before the men were sent out of time into eternity, with a levity and impiety that outraged all decency, he exclaimed at the last mo- ment, " We shall soon learn the secret." To learn the secret — but to learn it when it is too late ! " 0 my soul, come not thou into their secret ; unto their assem- bly, mine honour, be not thou united !" Ashamed of the gospel of Christ ! — Let the wicked profligate blush at his deeds of darkness that will not bear the light, and which he will not bring to the light, lest they be made manifest; but never let the Christian blush to own the holy gospel. Ashamed of the gospel of Christ ! — Where is the philosopher that is ashamed of the God of nature] And shall you and I, then, be ashamed of the God of grace 1 Ashamed of the gospel of Christ! — Where is the Jew that is ashamed of Moses 1 And shall the Christian and the Christian minister be ashamed of Christ? God forbid! Ashamed of Christ! — No, no! let me be ashamed of myself, (much reason have I for that), but never let me be ashamed ot Christ ! Ashamed of the gospel ! no : let me be ashamed of the world, but never, never let me be ashamed of the gospel of Christ! Learn, my friends, the necessity of con- sistency in your religious pnfession. See the consistency of this profession of the text : " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; it is the power of God to salvation to every one that believeth." How do you sustain and justify that pro- fession ] Is there harmony between your profession and your actions ] Do you who say you are not ashamed of the gos- pel realize its efficacy 1 Can you assign this as the reason why you are not ashamed of it — because it has saved you from sin, saved you from all unchristian tempers, dispositions, and desires ? Are you ashamed, my dear friends ? In vain do you say you are not ashamed of the gos-\ pel, unless you have this reason to give — " it is the power of God to salvation." Have you so believed as to be saved ] Have not some Christian professors need to be admonished here. There is a want of harmony between the words of the lips, and the works of the lives 1 You are not ashamed of the gospel, and yet live in op- position to the gospel ; not ashamed of the gospel, and yet violating the precepts of the gospel. Not ashamed of the gos- pel of Christ ! But the gospel of Christ is ashamed of you. Not ashamed of the ministers and friends of the gospel ; but the ministers and friends of the gospel are ashamed of you ! Not ashamed to con- fess Christ crucified before men ; but, unless you are speedily changed, and saved by the gospel — of you — yes, of you, will Jesus Christ be ashamed before his Father and his holy angels. May God give you repentance unto life ! GLORYING IN THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST. 65 As the g'ospel of Christ is the power of God to salvation to them that believe, let those who have through grace believed, and have realized the saving power of his gospel, zealouslij and praclically acknowled ge their obligation to make it known to others. It is our mercy that we have the gospel. How great a blessing is it ! How rich a trea- sure is it ! And what has it not done for us ! How it has blessed us, and saved us ! But we have it not for ourselves merely — not for our personal benefit ex- clusively : we have it for others, to bless others as Avell as ourselves. There is a sense in w^hich every Christian minister, and every Christian believer, as well as St. Paul, is a trustee allowed of God to be put in trust of the gospel, intrusted with the gospel for the benefit of those who have it not. Therefore, you are the debtors ; and in debt you remain till you impart to them the gospel of God. Can it be that we feel this power, enjoy this liberty, participate in these blessings our- selves, and be unconcerned for those who are destitute 1 Can it be that I am in the road to heaven, and wish to travel there alone 1 Can it be that I am saved of the Lord myself, and have no concern that my fellow-sin- ners should be saved 1 I profess to j'ou I see not how it can be. The religion of the gospel is essentially diffusive in its nature, diffusive as the breadth of the earth ; and, in proportion as our hearts are brought under its influence, however con- tracted before, they are now expanded and drawn out ; we wish our fellow-men to become our fellow-subjects in the king- dom of heaven ; we wish them all to be- come partakers of " like precious faith with us," and to be " fellow-heirs of the same hope." Our gracious Lord says, " Freely ye have received, freely give." Why, we have given something ; how little ! We have felt something ; but how little ! We have prayed now and then ; ah, how feeble have been our prayers I How little has been done by the profess- ing Christian world for the evangeliza- tion of the pagan ! Oh, could we take our post of observation where the prophet stood — could the whole length and breadth of the valley of dry bones come within Vol. L— 9 the range of our mortal vision — could we see the dismal spectres of superstition flit- ting before our eyes — could we behold six hundred millions of our fellow-beings in the lowest moral and mental prostra- tion, buried in ignorance, inthralled by superstition, loaded with guilt, polluted with crime, without God, without com- fort, without hope ! Oh, this would give intensity to our feelings — this would give fervour to our prayers — this would give vigour to our exertions ! — and we should be ready to ask ourselves and one another. What can we do to send them " words whereby they may be saved ■?" What can we do to send them the word, " the entry" of which " giveth life]" As the gospel is identified with the power of God, let us expect our efforts for its propagation to be crowned with success. " What a noise," said a person the other, day, " what a noise they make about their Bibles and Missions ; what a noise they make about sending their Bibles and their missionaries to the pagans : and what time they are consuming, and what money they are expending ! Ah," said he, " but they will find human nature to be just what human nature always has been, and will leave the world just as bad as they find it." And if I had the same views of Christianity which he enter- tained, I suppose I should sit side by side with him, and come to the same conclu- sion. But I fearlessly assert there is one single word in my text which lays pros- trate every thing that can be urged against missionary exertions, — urged in the way of objection, by cold indifference, by freezing avarice, by chilling doubt, or by impious unbelief: it is this one word — power — " the power of God." Oh ! talk no more about the power of prejudice, — talk no more about the power of ignorance, — talk no more about the power of superstition, and passion, and caste : I admit these are great powers ; but there is a power in my text infinitely greater, — a power that can triumph over all the powers of earth and hell. Here is a power that can overcome the power of sin ; here is a power that can subdue the power of passion ; here is a power that can break the power of preju- dice; and here is a power that can snap f2 THE BRITISH PULPIT. the chains of oppression, — " the power of | God." Let this simple but powerful en- j gine be applied, and what shall be the ' result] It will pull down strongholds,, cast down imaginations, and every high j thing that exalteth itself against the knoAv- ledge of God, and will bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. Yes, let this engine be applied to the very centre of idolatry and superstition, — let its props and its supporting pillars be but seized by the grasp of truth, and they will very soon rock to their base, and tot- ter to their fall ; their whole fabric will be broken, and the dust thereof driven before the winds of heaven. And what then, my Christian friends ? Why, then shall be seen rising up every where, in beautiful proportion, the fair temple of truth, — a temple whose porti- coes shall stand wide open, that the heavy laden and the weary may have free access, and there find repose, — a temple whose ministers shall say to every inquiring soul, " Come in, come in, thou blessed of the Lord : wherefore standest thou without ?" — a temple where people of every colour, and of every language, and of every clime, shall harmonize and com- mingle together in the delightful service of Christian worship, adoring and bless- ing Him who is the Maker and the Re- deemer of them all, — a temple Vv'hose altars shall flame with the love and the gratitude of a redeemed and renovated world : for it shall come to pass that in every place, " from the rising of the sun, even unto the going down of the same, my name shall be great among the Gen- tiles, and in every place incense shall be oflfered unto my name, and a pure offer- ing : for my name shall be great among the heathen, saith the Lord of hosts." Well, now, my Christian friends, to contribute in any way, in any degree, to realize such a consummation — who is not solicitous ■? Ashamed be the man, who- ever he is, who can ever think on this subject without emotion ! For such an object can any sacrifice be too painful, can any labours be too abundant? My friends, you have come up together as the friends of the gospel, as the friends of Jesus, as the friends of men. You are corne here to contribute in aid of the funds of the Wesleyan Missionary Society, — a society that already employs seme two hundred and twenty preaching missiona- ries, or thereabouts, in different parts of the world, — a society that has already numbered among the members of the Christian church some forty-three thou- sand persons, gathered into the fold by the zeal, the labours, the pra}'ers, the faithful preaching, and the holy living, by God's blessing, of these ministers, — a society that has schools connected Avith its missions, where some five-and-twenty thousand are instructed in the momentous verities of our common Christianity. What a work is „this ! — and what a pro- minent place are you taking, in the provi- dence of God, in this great work of evan- gelizing the world ! Many voices from many hundred tribes are saying, " Come over and help us : give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out." And can j'^oii refuse ] What ! have you oil, and will you not pour a portion into their lamps, which have gone out, that they may be kindled afresh 1 Will )four lamps burn less brightly ] Oh, no ! The more you communicate, the more you shall receive fresh supplies of the oil of the sanctuary, and your lamps will burn far more brightly. SERMON V. THE ORIGIN, UNIVERSALITY, AND CONSEQUENCES OF THE APOSTACY OF MAN. BY THE REV. JAMES PARSONS ' By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin ; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." — Kom. v. 12. How vastly important is it that we should entertain correct views with re- gard to the position and the character of the moral world ! Mistakes with regard to the construction and the movement of the material universe may sometimes, perhaps, he entertained without giving rise to any considerable injury ; but mis- takes with regard to the moral universe, either in its attributes, its laws, or its responsibilities, never can be indulged without producing effects which, in their consequences, are most mischievous and most deadly. To these perilous mis- takes, it must be observed, man in all ages is prone in consequence of the de- pravitj' of his nature. The practice has been exemplified in past ages, and it is exemplified now ; and were there no guidance, no influence except that which arises from his own mind, the uniform and unbroken dominion of falsehood would prevail, attended by all its conse- quences of unmitigated misery and sor- row. The value of the record of divine truth, my Christian brethren, from this circum- stance, will doubtless appear to be un- speakable and infinite. It illustrates and comprises every principle respecting which man may desire to be informed, and which is associated with the preserva- tion of his interests and welfare. Its nar- ratives and doctrines, its precepts and its promises, its threatenings and its warn- ings, all tend to our ultimate happiness as the subjects of the moral government of God, and as the heirs of an unchange- able retribution. How much of valuable revelation, for instance, is comprised in the words which have been selected as the text I What important intelligence does it comprise as to the various phe- nomena which we observe to be con- stantly taking place around us, with regard to the government of the Almighty and the everlasting destinies of mankind ! What reflection it is adapted to inspire — what improvement it is calculated to pro- duce ! If, my Christian brethren, on your own minds the facts and principles which are contained in the announcement before us, along with those other state- ments to which they refer, produce their due impression, it is unquestionable that the eternal welfare of your souls will be secured. If, on the other hand, these facts and these principles be despised and rejected, it is as unquestionable that those interests will be in danger — that you will be abandoned to the empire of falsehood, and have no prospect before you except that of agony and unmitigated horror, from which there is no possible redemption. From these views let us now proceed to meditate on the important statement of the apostle that, " by one man sin en- tered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." The immediate connexion in which the text appears will not require any thing like preliminary explanation ; we there- fore proceed to observe that your attention will now be directed, 67 C8 THE BRITISH PULPIT. I. To the origin and diffusion of sin — "By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have simied.'''' II. To the origin and diffusion of death, "As by one mnn sin entered into the ■world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men ; for that all have sinned." And, III. We shall mention those reflections by which our views of the combined ori- gin and diffusion of sin and death may be duly and savingly sanctified. I. We have from these words to notice THE ORIGIN AND DIFFUSION OF SIN. 1st. As to the origin of si it. — "By one man sin entered into the world." Sin, my brethren, you are aware, ac- cording to the admirable definition of Scripture, is '■'■the transgression of the Iau\^^ The law is that rule which has been issued and imposed by Almighty God, as the supreme and sovereign ruler of the uni- verse, for the unqualified and perfect obedience of his intelligent and immortal creatures, whether in thought or action ; and any want of conformity, in our prac- tical deportment, to that law, either in thought, or in action, is truly and emphati- cally sin. It will, of course, be under- stood that the " one man" by whom sin entered into the world was Adam, the first parent of our race. His history is }j^-' connected with the important and moment- ' ous fact before us, and is given to us in the sacred Scriptures in a method the most succinct and clear. He was em- phatically created, as we are informed, after the image of the Almighty, in right- eousness and true holiness, having in his nature no one stain of impurity to mar the dignity and grandeur by which he had been invested. In that state he was placed in the garden of Eden, a fair, em- balmed, and lovely spot, which had been enriched, by the grace and mercy of Jehovah, with every thing that could minister to delight and joy. In that place of residence we behold, also, a test of obedience, by which might be ascertained and discovered the relation existing be- tween the creature and the Creator. We are hence informed that, " The Lord God planted a garden eastward of Eden ; and there he put the man he had formed. And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food ; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil." With regard to the latter it is said, " The Lord God commanded the man, saying, of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat : but of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it." Here, you will observe, then, was the law, the particular commandment of which must be viewed as being in con- nexion with an important general design, showing the right of God to command — showing the obligation of man to obey — and showing also the responsibility and the final account which man must render to the Almighty for his conduct, as a ruler and as a judge. Satan, that fallen spirit, who by disobedience had been hurled from heaven and heavenly glor)^, animated by malignant hatred to God and to holi- ness, we are informed, became the tempter of Adam and of the woman \Ahom God had given him as a helpmeet, that he might induce them to disobey the law under which they had been placed, and thereby introduce transgression and sin. The manner in which the enemy assumed the form of a serpent in the fell attempt is strikingly recorded, as you will find by referring to the third chapter of the book of Genesis, " Now the serpent w^as more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, ye shall not eat of every tree of the gar- den ■? And the woman said unto the ser- pent. We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden ; but of the tree w hich is in the midst of the garden, God hath said. Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die. And the serpent said unto the Avoman, Ye shall not surely die : for God doth know, that, in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened ; and ye shall be as gods, know- ing good and evil. And when the woman saw that the tree w^as good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she THE APOSTACY OF MAN. 69 took of the fruit thereof, and did eat ; and gave also unto her husband with her, and he did eat." Here, you observe, was the entrance — here was the first act of trans- gression, an event which in its mighty consequences changed the path of nature, and whose mighty consequences also will not only be felt throughout the whole duration of time, but also throughout the duration of eternity. That in the transgression of our first parents, of which we have now given a brief survey, there was a transgression of vast and heinous amount, is a truth which cannot be too deeply impressed upon our minds. There are some among the false friends or open adversaries of revelation, who have been inclined to treat it with carelessness and levity, and have sometimes inquired — I quote their own language — " What mighty offence could there be in the eating of an apple]" In answer to the ignorant skepticism upon which such an inquiry is founded, and also for the purpose of settling in your own minds those views which ought con- stantly to be impressed, a few observa- tions must be made. Let me remind you, then, as we have already stated, and do now repeat, that the particular command of the Deity, with regard to the forbidden fruit, must be viewed as being in connexion with an important general design ; and that the regard which was paid by man to that particular commandment was a kind of pledge with respect to all the relations existing between the creature and the Creator, so that as long as the command- ment was obeyed, all those relations would be observed, and when it was broken, then all those relations would be violated. Disobedience could not but produce, and disobedience did produce, those emotions and feelings, which in their nature were thoroughly corrupt. There was, for instance, unbelief — there was ambition — there was sensuality — there was ingratitude. Unbelief, because they denied the right to command and the penalty that existed — ambition, because they aspired to be as gods, distinguish- ing between good and evil — sensuality, because they wished to gratify mere ani- mal sensual appetite, because they saw that " the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes" — ingratitude., because they turned against that mighty God who had sustained them, and who had spread around them every enjoyment for their free and full participation, and to whom they were indebted for life, and happiness, and all these things. My Christian brethren, you can now imagine one peculiar reason for their rejection. Do you not observe that the carelessness and the levity of which we have been speaking, ought, and is to be, condemned and repudiated with horror] The guilt of the first transgression is now palpably apparent before us in all its horrible enor- mity— a transgression which overthrew and betrayed every existing relationship between the creature and the Creator — a transgression which hurled a foul insult against every attribute of the everlasting God. What, we would ask, what would have been the consequence had vengeance been fully inflicted ] What would have been the consequence had the Almighty consigned the transgressors to punish- ment without one solitary hope of redemp- tion, and beaten down to primeval nothing the whole of the globe which had been thus stained and polluted ] But you will observe, 2d. That while the apostle introduces one fact as to the origin of sin, another is also comprised with regard to its diffusion, "all have sinned," all men, in every country and in every age of the world. It is, my hearers, of inexpressible im- portance that we should admit the im- portant fact involved in the statement of the apostle, and also affirmed by him throughout the whole of the chapter, and in different parts of his writings, that ah men are sinners — sinners in consequence of the transgression of Adam. The trans- gression of our first parent did not end with himself — it was not merely personal ; it was transferable to his posterity, and was to descend like an heir-loom, entailing misery and corruption, to remain as long as the world should last. " By one man's disobedience" — it is the language of the same writer — "many were made sinners." As it is impossible that an evil tree should 70 THE BRITISH PULPIT. bring forth good fruit, so it was impossi- may perchance have been formed by leam^ ble, when the nature of our first parent ing, by institutions, by education, by had become corrupted by those evil dis positions which he acquired in conse^ example, or any mode of testimony or in- terest whatever — yet this one fact remains quence of his transgression, that one of invariably and unalterably the same, that his descendants could enter into the world man everywhere is a sinner. Yes. my except as being a partaker of corruption brethren, east, west, north, south, from also. Each, then, of the children of [ the tropics to the poles, ancient and mo- Adam enters the world with a polluted nature, or possessing what we term origi- nal sin. This important doctrine, you will ob- serve, appears to be indicated in one of the early narratives of Scripture, where Adam is said to have begotten a son " in his own likeness, after his own image," apparently in contrast to the fact stated of himself, that he was formed " after the likeness of God," and notifying the de- grading tendency which had been intro- duced and perpetuated by guilt. The same doctrine has been affirmed constantly in various parts of the sacred writings. If I speak to-night to an individual who denies the fact of original sin existing in human nature, let me remind him of the following statement. There is the in- quiry of Job, " Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean 1 Not one." There is the inquiry of Bildad, " How can he be clean that is born of a woman ]" There is the confession of David, " Be- hold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me." There is the statement of Christ, " That which is born of the flesh is flesh." There is the asseveration of the apostle, " The old man is corrupt, according to the deceitful lusts." Now, that original sin, whicli is thus distinctly and solemnly mentioned to us in the inspired writings to be a no- torious fact, always produces practical transgression. Hence it is, that the children of the first man, by whom sin entered into the world, alike and all ex- emplify in themselves unbelief, ambition, sensuality, and ingratitude, with all their vile brood of crimes, and exhibit these as having the uncontrolled empire of the human heart. It is a solemn and affect- ing consideration, but one which must be thoroughly and distinctly stated, that whatever modification there may be in human character, — whatever modification dern times, scenes of civilization and philosophy, scenes of ignorance and bar- barism, all bear but one stamp, the stamp of moral evil, — the stamp of transgression against God. The charges of Scripture upon this important subject are without exception, and without limit: "./5// flesh has corrupted his way upon the earth." "There is nn77e. that doeth good, no, not one." " The heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." " There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after Uod. They are all gone out of the way. they are together become unprofitable.; there is none that doeth good, no, not one. Their throat is an open sepulchre : with their tongues they have used deceit ; the poison of asps is under their lips : whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness : their feet are swift to shed blood : destruction and misery are in their ways : and the way of peace have they not known : there is no fear of God before their eyes. Now we know, that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law ; that every mouth may be stop- ped, and all the world may become guilty before God." The statements and quotations which have now been offered, I trust, will be considered as amply satisfactory to verify the application of the text. That you, ray hearers, for yourselves, may indi- vidually possess a conviction of the fact, and that you may be enabled to make a full application of the fact to your own interests, and to your own circumstances, is what in this service I would earn- estly aim at, and what I do most anx- iously and most fervently desire. You yourselves, without exception, are the possessors of a corrupted nature. You yourselves have indulged in many a thought, and many a deed, of flagrant transgression against God. You your THE APOSTACY OF MAN. 71 selves have spurnorl alike the Almighty and his law ; and while you depart from him you are given up and abandoned to the domination of sin. Think not, my friends, to lull your consciences by mak- ing statements with regard to imaginary excellences ; form no false excuses. The language of earnest and solemn confession becomes you, " unclean, unclean !" " Be- hold I am vile, what shall I answer thee ]" " I acknowledge my transgression, and my sin is ever before me." " Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son," " God be merciful to me a sinner." Such is the language that becomes you, and if in spirit you use it not, you are living in the worst state of spiritual captivity, and are passing for- ward to the consummation of remediless and eternal woe. As we have now endeavoured to ex- plain to you the origin and diffusion of sin, by the structure of the text we are called to consider — II The ORIGIN AND DIFFUSION OF DEATH. — " As by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin ; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.'^ 1st. With regard to the origin nf death, " death by sin," Man, you are aware, was purposely foimed by the Almighty with a suscepti- bility of being affected by the prospect of reward, and by the fear of punishment. Obedience was connected with the one, and disobedience was connected with the other; and thus the greatest and most powerful of all possible motives was put in action to aspire to that which is good, and to the avoidance of that which is evil. Now, death was an ordained penalty, or a penalty presented to us as the result of transgression. When Adam was placed in the garden of Eden, he was informed tJiat he was not to eat of the tree of for- bidden fruit, and it was added, " For in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." And when he stood as a transgressor in the presence of God, whom he had insulted, he was thus ad- dressed, " Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it; cursed is the ground for thy sake : in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life : thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee : and thou shalt eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground : for out of it wast thou taken : for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." There was the entrance of death. " The Avages of sin is death." What, my friends, is the proper and natural quality so comprehended in the sentence of death announced to, and in- flicted upon, Adam, as the result and penalty of his transgression against the law 1 That corporeal death was included, will not for a single moment be denied ; that much more was comprehended, on evangelical principles, we are called thoroughly and solemnly to believe. ^ Viewing the phrase, to die, in the light thrown upon the subject by the prin- ciples of the gospel, and especially by the evangelical blessings with which the gospel is connected, "justification unto life — eternal life" — it is to be regarded as comprising, and our first parents must therefore be regarded as knowing it to have comprised, all that is comprehended in spiritual and eternal death ; — that is to say, the debasement of human nature con- sequent upon its awful alienation from God — the total and absolute withdraw- ment of the divine friendship and favour — the agitation and gloomy terrors of the conscience at the prospect beyond the grave — the consummation of all this by the entrance of the immortal soul into a state of changeless retribution, where it is to suffer the vengeance of the Almighty without mitigation, unchangeably, and for ever. You can easily imagine what would be the emotion of the transgressors in Eden, when they first awoke from the slumber of intoxication to the full con- sciousness of the change which had passed upon their being. The voice of thunder yet reverberating its peal, " Thou shalt surely die" — nature, as if shudder- ing at the sentence, heaving around them — the atmosphere becoming thick, and dull, and heavy, charged with the eler 72 THE BRITISH PULPIT. f ments of disease — their own bodies para- lyzed and enfeebled with the infirmity and corruption that was to usher in the awful and mysterious consummation of mortality, and their souls agitated with the prospect of eternal woe, when they contemplated the coming and tremendous infliction of the miseries of hell ! Oh, how bitter would be their self-reproaches, how bitter their groans, how bitter their tears I Mournful, mournful indeed, was the day — mournful to them, and mourn- ful to unborn millions, when death en- tered into the world by sin, and when first was heard the triumph of the king of terrors, as he issued from the dark abyss, and came to the territories of earth, traversing and marching over them, to claim them as his own. It is a tremen- dous fact, that we should never forget, as to the origin of death, that death was by sin. 2dly. There is a corresponding fact, you will observe also with regard to the diffusion of death, " Death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." And so it follows in a subsequent verse, " Nevertheless, death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression, who is the figure of him that was to come. By the offence of one, judgment came upon all men to con- demnation." In Adam all die ; all men are sinners, and therefore against all men the penalty is still standing. Corporeal death, that event which separates the soul from the body, and which then dis- misses the body as the victim of putre- faction, to moulder back to primeval dust, is a penalty which has been exacted and must be exacted from all the sons and daughters of Adam. What man is he that liveth and that shall not see death "? *' We must all die. and be like water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again." " Rich and poor shall go down to the grave, and worms alike shall cover them." It is appointed unto all men once to die. The ages at which the allotment is suffered vary. There is the child at the mother's breast, or in the nurse's arms ; there is the youth in the spring- tide of gayety and buoyant spirits ; there is the full-'^rown man in the maturity of wisdom and of power ; there are the aged bending under the decrepitude and infir- mity of long-protracted years. The me- thod in which the allotment is suffered varies. The convulsions of nature ; war ; famine; accident; disease, slow and sud- den. And yet, my brethren, amid the \ variety of modes, and the variety of sea- sons, the path is but one and the same. All these things are but so many avenues leading down to the one narrow house, which has been appointed for all living; and never should the subject of death be reviewed by ourselves, and never should the subject of death be pondered by our- selves, without viewing it and pondering it in connexion with sin. Sin, the in- variable antecedent ; death, the invariable consequence! Sin the cause; death the effect! The demerit of the one pro- ducing the desolation of the other ! Ye children of mortality, forget it not — ap- prove it and apply it. Sin formed tlie volcano, the earthquake, the hurricane, the pestilence which mows down the population of cities and empires ! Sin inflicts every pang! Sin nerves every death-throe ! Sin stains and blanches every corpse ! Sin weaves every shroud ! Sin shapes every coffin ! Sin digs every grave ! Sin writes every epitaph ! Sin paints every hatchment ! Sin sculptures every monument ! Sin feeds every worm ! The waste and the havoc of centuries that are gone, and the waste and the havoc of centuries yet to come, all reverberate in one awful voice, " Death has passed upon all men, for that all have sinned !" Spiritual death, my brethren, which consists, as we have observed, in the alienation of the human heart from God, and which the apostle has emphatically described in the second chapter of the epistle to the Ephesians, as being " dead in trespasses and sins," constitutes the state of every man by nature. Every man, in consequence of that state of spirit- ual death, is also in peril of proceeding to receive the recompense of it in the agonies of death eternal. It will be ob- served upon this important subject, that there cannot be the least question or doubt: " For (says the apostle) as many THE APOSTACY OF MAN. 73 as have sinned without law," — that is to say, without heing placed within the external domination of the written law of the Almighty — " as many as have sinned without law shall also perish without law : and as many as have sinned in the law" — that is, with the knowledge of the written revelation of God — " shall be judged by the law. For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified. For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves, which show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the meanwhile accus- ing, or else excusing one another; in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men, by Jesus Christ, according to my gospel." My hearers, attend : " By the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified ;" then they must be condemned. "All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." If then you have come short of the glory of God, you must be lost: it cannot be denied, nor be disputed. I tell to every man now present, that he is guilty of sinning against the Almighty — that if there be no intervention of mercy so mighty and so majestic as to satisfy the demands of justice, to quench her fire, and sheathe her sword — if there be not mercy, free, boundless, omnipotent, and eternal, every human being will stand before the judgment-bar of God to receive the sentence of his condemnation. He must be banished for ever from the pre- sence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power ; and he must go down to those abodes of torment where there are agonies unspeakable and inconceivable ; where the smoke of torment ascendeth up for ever and for ever. Go, my hearers, to the brink of eternity, contemplate in ima- gination the scenes of that horrible pit which the word of revelation has pre- sented to your view — contemplate the worm that dieth not — contemplate the fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels — contemplate the black- ness of darkness — contemplate the smoke of torment that ascendeth up for ever and Vol. I.— 10 ever! What was it that gave to that worm its fang but sin 1 What was it that gave to that fire its intensity but sinl What was it that gave to that blackness its shadows but sin"? What was it that gave to that torment its woe but sin ? The voice is from the abyss uttering one wild cry, " It was sin ; it was shi ,• it was SIN ! Man would sin, and therefore man must suffer !" There is a rigid equity between the one and the other. " Death has passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." We have now, my brethren, presented to you, as clearly as possible, the second division of the subject, and we proceed, III. To MENTION THOSE REFLECTIONS BY WHICH OUR VIEWS OF THE COMBINED ORIGIN AND THE DIFFUSION OF SIN AND DEATH MAY BE DULY AND SAVINGLY SANC- TIFIED. We confine ourselves to two : 1st. It becomes us to perceive and to la- ment over the exceeding sinfulness of sin. Man thinks but lightly of sin ; in his state of nature he thinks not of its enor- mity, and he only calls those actions sins which are palpably violations of the laws subsisting between man and man. Theft is a sin — fornication is a sin — falsehood is a sin — drunkenness is a sin — murder is a sin ; — but with regard to the affec- tions— the disbelief of the divine testi-^ mony — the forgetfulness of God, the withdrawing of the desires of the heart away from him who is the fountain of living waters to the vain and transitory concerns of time — these, which are the sources of all other transgressions — these he deems but as pardonable, or perhaps not as transgressions. Let me, my hearers, speak plainly to individuals possessed of an immortal spirit — let me remind you that sin is not to be contemplated in its heinousness, so much as it exists and is seen in the relationship between man and man, but in the relationship between man and God. " Sin is the transgression of the law." If God has commanded you to be holy, then impurity is a sin — if God has commanded you to believe, then un- belief is a sin — if God has commanded you to love him with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your strength, thea -^ /4 THE BRITISH PULPIT. to love pleasure, or love the world more than God, is sin; and he who is impure, he who is unbelieving', he who is a lover of pleasure, or of the world, or of profit, is playing v/ith the very fang of tlie tempter, and standing in the way of that serpent whose breath is poison, and whose bite is death. Behold, my brethren, the exhibition of the exceeding sinfulness of sin ! Oh, ponder, and seek for the influence of the Spirit of God, that its depravity in this respect may be exhibited more clearly than ever; and never be content with your view of that " which brought death into the world and all our. woe," but as you view it as He views it who is of purer eyes than to look on iniquity, who can only look upon iniquity with detestation and abhorrence, and whose voice has pro- claimed, " Oh, do not this abominable thing which I hate !" 2d, and lastly. We are called upon also io admire the riches of that divine mercy which has provided a remedy against an evil which is so dreadful. The very same being against whom the transgressions of the human race have been directed, has himself been pleased to condescend in mercy and in his eternal love to provide a method by which the guilty may be pardoned, and sanctified, and saved. Read the statements con- tained in the chapter from which we have selected our text. " But God commend- eth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. For if* through the offence of one many be dead, much more the grace of God and he gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus Christ, hath abounded unto inany. A-ud not as it was by one that sinned, so 6 the gift: for the judgment was by one D condemnation ; but the free gift is of many offences unto justification. For if oy one man's offence death reigned by one ; much more they which received abundance of grace, and of the gift of ghteousness, shall reign in life by one, esus Christ. Moreover, the law entered, riiat the offence might abound. But •«'here sin abounded, grace did much more ound : that as sin hath reigned unto eath, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life, by .Tesus Christ our Lord." What a veil is thus thrown over an otherwise tremendous gloom ! What happiness we can now enjoy in believing and receiving this one emphatic phrase ! — " But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound. That as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through righteous- ness unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord." It only requires that the guilty sinner should believe on Christ, and he receives the imputation of his righteousness, and is forthwith absolved from doom. Natural death he yet must suffer — the agonies of dissolution he yet must endure — his flesh must still become the food of worms, and lie beneath the cloven clay till the trumpet of the arch- angel shall sound ; but the flesh itself shall rest in hope, and the immortal spirit be emancipated from a scene of suffering and of sorrow by death itself, that it may be transmitted to higher regions, where the inhabitants themselves, pure as God is pure, cast their crowns at his footstool, crying with a loud voice, "Alleluia, alle- luia. Lord God Almighty, who is, and was, and is to come '." Where God him- self is with them, and is their God, — where death has no dominion, and where God himself wipes away all tears from their eyes ! Matchless mercy, that tells us of the reigning of grace ! Matchless mercy ! its praises shall be the com- panion of our health — its praises shall be the companion of our sorrows — its praises shall be with us in the hour of dissolu- tion, when the body is about to depart to the dust — its praises will form the one theme of our song amid the hallelujahs of heaven ; for what is that song? — Sal- vation unto God who sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever! It is obvious, my brethren, that we might easily expand the latter part of our subject ; but I am desirous to confine my- self this evening to the fall and corruption of human nature, in order to bring more succinctly before you the subject of his renovation. This brief statement, there- fore, in allusion to it shall suffice for the present THE APOSTACY OF MAN. 76 My brethren, here are many who from the evil of sin, by the grace of God, have already been delivered. Christians, look down into the hole of the pit whence ye were digged, and look up to the rock whence ye were hewn. See what ye were, lying there exposed to the curse; and see what you are now, when standing on the elevation of mercy, having around you the spotless robe of the Redeemer's right- eousness, the light of the countenance of God streaming down from the glory of the skies. You now have the prelibation of the happiness yet to be revealed. In this sanctuary let there be the confession of that to which you owe it, " By the grace of God I am what I am." At the same time be it your grand desire to join in the one aspiration of thanksgiving, " Thanks be unto God for this his unspeakable gift !" There are others in this assembly now congregated who are yet " in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity." There are sinners, sinners impenitent — sinners unenlightened — sinners alienated from God — sinners unforgiven and in all their danger. O ye, whose consciences are not yet stirred up with feelings of genuine contrition, who are yet following a course of pleasure and transgression which yon count tlie god of your joys and your happiness, let me request your ear. What is your condition'? Ac- cursed I — for cursed is every one that continueth not in all things as it is written in the book of the law to do them ; and you are under the dispensation of the law ; cursed in your basket and in your store ; cursed in your goings out and in your comings in ; cursed in your sitting down and in your rising up ; cursed in the closet and in the field — accursed by the condem- nation of God ! And what is the end % Look over the territories of the grave ! Behold the scene of punishment reserved for them who know not God, and who obey not the gospel of Christ! There will you be, beyond the hope of mercy and of grace. Imagine the agony of dwelling where the tidings of this gospel never shall be heard again. Think of the companionship of the fiends, of the black- ness of the pit, of the unmingled horrors so that even if you could ask for one drop of water to cool your tormented tongue, even that would be denied ! Sin- ners, I ask you one question before we part, "Who amongst you can dwell with the devouring fire 1 — who amongst you can dwell with the everlasting burnings ]" If there be one, let him rise up and tell us ! It is impossible, and your silence condemns you ! Flee, then, from the wrath to come ! Lay hold on the hope set before you in the gospel ! Believe on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved ! The great reno vating change must be wrought, or the hell will be yours ! I have brought you to the point where I will deliver but one single sentence by way of connecting what I have advanced this night with what is yet to follow, " Marvel not that I say unto you, ye must be born again — ye must be horn again.''^ As you are born again, the evil of youi transgressions will be removed, and you shall stand in confidence and faith, await- ing the end of your existence — the salva tion of your souls. May the eternal Jehovah prepare you, without exception, for the infliction of that temporary death which all must suf- fer ! May he awake you from death in trespasses and sins, and save you finally from that death which is changeless and eternal ! — Amkn. THE PUIjFIT GAXaXiXSHlT. No. II. THE REV. JAMES PARSONS, YORK. " By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet As angels use, the gospel whispers peace." COWPER. The Rev. James Parsons is a son of the late Rev. Edward Parsons, who for forty- eight years was the pastor of Salem Chapel, Leeds, Yorkshire. The son was originally destined for the law, to which profession he was regularly arti cled ; during the latter part of his term which he spent in London he was a mem- ber of the Athenian Society held in the Temple, and was looked upon as a young man of extraordinary talents, and as calcu- lated to rise in his profession. The deat'.- 76 THE BRITISH PULPIT. of his mother, however, awoke in his mind a train of serious thoughts. " It was over the tomb of a parent," he says, " and amidst reflections which concen- trated on that melancholy spot the recol- lections of the past, and the anticipations of the future, that led him to think on his destiny." The lessons of childhood, taught by a voice for ever hushed, seemed to rise in accents of louder importunity from the grave, and determined him to relinquish all the brilliant hopes of rising in his profession — all the prospects of legal and literary ambition and wealth, and to dedicate himself to the ministry. This purpose being approved by his father, he entered a theological institu- tion, where he continued until October, 1822, when he took the ministerial over- sight of a congregation in the city of York. There he has continued to the present, preaching Christ crucified as the only hope of sinners.. He is a yearly visiter to London, having a month or six weeks' supply to give annually to the Tabernacle chapel, built by the celebrated Whitefield. His visits to the metropolis of England have always attracted over- whelming congregations, and there is reason for believing that his labours have been greatly blessed. His biblical know- ledge is said to be extensive, and though in the pulpit he seldom descends to criti- cism, yet he shows by his mode of con- ducting his discourse, that he is fully acquainted with the subject, and, without pedantry is enabled to draw from the stores of learning both ancient and mo- dern— both sacred and profane — all that tends to illustrate the text from which he is preaching; yet it is done in such a manner that the most illiterate can under- stand him. His illustrations are lumi- nous, eloquent, and highly scriptural ; his appeals to the understanding, the con- science, and the heart, forcible, command- ing, consecutive, solemn, and on some occasions irresistible. He is aware of the value of climaxes ; hence he generally succeeds in fixing the attention, while his last illustration, his last argument, his last appeal, being always the most forci- ble, remains deeply lodged in the mind of the hearer. Though Mr. Parsons occasionally wields the terrors of the law, and presents before his hearers a sinner riven with the thunders and scathed by the lightnings of the Almighty's vengeance, his favourite subject is evidently the fulness and free- ness of the divine mercy : he appears more anxious to subdue than to terrify ; to win by gentleness than to conquer by force ; and when he proclaims the willingness of Jehovah to have mercy upon sinners, however numerous and aggravated their crimes, he rises to more than usual elo- quence. That he is not a mere speculator, but an experimentalist in religion, may be seen from the following passage from a sermon delivered by him to the young, in which, while speaking of the vast superiority of the pleasures of religion to those of earth, he says, " Allow me to speak to you, to whom life is in a measure untried, as one who himself can give the testimony. 1 speak that I do know, and testify that I have seen ; and I speak what it is certain others could testify too. I have been in different courses, and have sought for enjoyment in different paths. I have sought it in mirth, and gayety, and amuse- ments ; I have sought it in plans and pur- poses of ambition, and in the imagination of schemes of worldly aggrandizement and honour ; I have sought it in the occu- pations of study, conversing on the page of history with generations that have gone, or mingling in the magic enchant- ments of poetry, or attempting the more laborious pursuits of intellectual inquiry; and I have sought it in the service of God. And here the craving appetite has found its food ; and Aerethe restless and anxious heart has found its peace and joy ! Like the philosopher of old, but in an appli- cation far more exalted, I can say, ' I have found it! I have found it!' — in the ser vice of God I am happy ; and if I served him more I should be happier still. To be as once I was, I would not for all the gold of every earthly mine, or all the gems of every ocean cave. I come forth in the service of God to proffer the same boon to you, that thus we may together rejoice with 'joy unspeakable and full of glory.'" SERMON VI. ^ if auto ell ©tscoursr, DELIVERED BY THE RT. REV. DANIEL WILSON, A. M. BISHOP OF CALCUTTA, TO HIS PARISHIONERS, AT ST. MARy's, ISLINGTON. " But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying for the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life."— Jude 20, 21. There is nothing more important than to maintain a consistent, elevated tone of practical piety. This is important, not only because it is that kind of religion that most glorifies God, edifies our neigh- bour, and brings comfort to our own minds, but because it is the only means of securing ourselves against the seduc- tions of erroneous teachers — of our being preserved amidst the snares and tempta- tions of the world and of Satan — and of introducing us into God's heavenly king- dom. Nor is the difficulty less than the importance of maintaining this high tone of practical religion. Nothing is so diffi- cult as to act up to a holy, wise, scriptural standard of religion. To a Christian, nothing is so difficult as to rise above the habits and feelings generally prevalent in the day in which we live : in fact, like most other valuable attainments, it is difficult in proportion as it is important. In this view, I have thought that the subject presented to us in the words of my text (which is precisely that which I have intimated), would not be an inap- propriate one on the occasion of my tak- ing farewell of my beloved flock and parish. The apostle is exhorting the primitive converts to contend against the false teachers who had " crept in unawares, and turned the grace of God into lasci- viousness, and denied the only God and our Lord Jesns Christ :" and having described in fearful terms the character and misera- ble end of such profane abusers of the gospel in the verses preceding the text, we have the prediction of the apostle as to the appearance of such seducers — " But, beloved, remember ye the words which were spoken before of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ; how that they told you there should be mockers in the last time, who should walk after theii own ungodly lusts. These be they who separate themselves, sensual, having no* the Spirit." And then the apostle intro duces his main exhortation in the words which I have read, and in which he ap pears to me to point out a remedy for all the evils he had been deploring, in an elevated and unvaried tone of spiritual religion centred in the love of God. This is our subject, in pursuing which we shall follow our apostle, First, IN DIRECTING YOUR ATTENTION TO THE MAIN POINT IN WHICH A TRUI^ 'eLE VATED AND CONSISTENT PRACTICAL RELI GION CONSISTS THE LOVE OF GoD : " KEEI YOURSELVES IN THE LOVE OF GoD." Secondly, we shall consider the chief MEANS OF attaining THIS MAIN POINT WHICH THE APOSTLE RECOMMENDS FAITH AND prayer: "BUT YE, BELOVED, BUILD ING UP YOURSELVES ON YOUR MOST HOLY FAITH, PRAYING IN THE HoLY GhOST." And this will lead us, in the last place, g2 77 78 THE BRITISH PULPIT. TO CONSIDER THE INSPIRING ENCOURAGE- MENT WHICH HE PRESENTS TO ANIMATE US IN THE PURSUIT TO WHICH HE INVITES US, AND THAT IS ETERNAL LIFE : " LOOKING FOR THE MERCY OF OUR LoRD JeSUS ChRIST UNTO ETERNAL LIFE." And now may God be pleased to assist us, that our minds may be calm and col- lected, that we may be preserved from the great danger of looking for any bless- ing from the occasion itself, from the ex- citement of feeling in itself; this, that, or the other circumstance of itself. None of these things, nor all of them, can im- part any solid blessing ; it is only when we look through them, and above them, to the God and Saviour of all, that we can hope for any blessing from this or any other discourse addressed by a min- ister of the gospel to such feeble creatures as men. In considering, then, the importance of maintaining a high and scriptural tone of practical piety, let me, with our apostle, direct your attention, First, TO THE MAIN POINT IN WHICH THAT ELEVATED TONE AND STANDARD OF PRACTICAL PIETY CONSISTS— ^AND IT IS IN THE ARDENT, UNDECAYING LOVE OF GoD IN THE HEART. " BuT YE, BELOVED, KEEP YOURSELVES IN THE LOVE OF GoD." Pcr- severe, guard your hearts from decays in that main affection ; keep up a high and genuine flame of holy love to Almighty God continually and unfeignedly, in all its principles and all its affections and consequences, in your souls. Man was made to love God and to glo- rify him. Adam in paradise loved God perfectly, and found in that love his hap- piness and his honour. When man fell, he lost his love to God ; and he began to love, with an idolatrous attachment, car- nal and sensible objects, external nature, the secular concerns of life, ambition, glory, fame, his family, his children, him- self. The sum of the moral law is, " thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and all thy soul, and all thy strength, and all thy mind ;" and when the penitent is brought back to God in true contrition and brokenness of heart, and the mist and confusion hovering over a fallen state are dissipated by the illumi- nation of the Holy Spirit, he begins to discover that the main point of his apos- tasy consisted in his having an alienated, estranged, and apostate heart; and by de- grees he discerns what claims Almighty God has on his creatures' hearts — what infinite perfections the Almighty posses- ses, which constitutes the just object ot his creature's love — what infinite benefits he has moreover bestowed, which increase those original claims of the divine excel- lency. He perceives by degrees that he is bound to love God, because God is the best of beings, because he has been to him the most munificent of benefactors. But espe- cially the love of God, in the gift of a Saviour, to die for guilty man, fills the penitent with admiration, and draws forth deep convictions of his guilt, in never hav- ing loved this God, who hath so loved the world. In this way he comes back to his God and Father ; and in proportion as his mind is rendered peaceable by the appli- cation to his conscience of the atoning blood of Christ, and a sense of the for- giveness of his sins — in proportion as there is established something like a tran- quil state of mind by the operations and influence of redeeming grace, so the man begins to love God, and in this begins the sum and substance of his religion. He who loved every thing but God, now loves God above every thing, and every thing in subordination to God. '• God is love," is now the doctrine, and sum, and sub stance of the penitent's language — " God is love ; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him." This now becomes the object of his pursuit, his continual aim, the point to which his vigilance is directed, the topic of his vigilant thoughts and meditations. He aims to have such a sense of God's love to him, as may bind his soul to God in return ; leading him to serve him, to desire to please him, to delight in him as the source of felicity, to find all his hap- piness in him, to walk under a sense of his favour, to enjoy the light of his coun- tenance, to rejoice and solace himself in God as his exceeding joy. He desires, so far as he can fulfil his purpose of mind, to feel no pleasure but in communion with God, in the conviction of his presence A FAREWELL DISCOURSE. 79 entering his soul, in the society of his holy people, and in every expression that be- comes him as being under infinite obliga- tions to divine love. With these views he seeks to render a moral obedience to the ten commandments, the fulfilment of every relative duty, and the conscientious discharge of all his various obligations. Every thing, in short, that pleases God is a part and parcel of the love of God. " He that hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me." " This IS the love of God, that we keep his com- mandments." Again ; The avoidance of all that dis- pleases God, the mortification of inward and outward sense, the separation from the world which extinguishes the love of God, so that " if any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him" — separation, I say, from the world, in its amusements, vanities, companions, max- ims, spirit — separation, I repeat it the third time, from the world, the love of which constitutes of itself enmity to God — all this is included in the love of God. This, in fact, as you have heard me de- clare, brethren, from my lips I trust a hundred and a hundred times, is the sum of all religion. That which was the sum of natural religion before man fell, was the love of God ; that which constitutes heaven is the love of God, and the whole of the gospel, as I shall presently have occasion to show, is a remedial dispensa- tion to bring us back to that which we lost, the love of God. This prepares us for that which nothing but the blood of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit can prepare us for — the perfect love of God in heaven. Again ; The elevated tone of a scrip- tural piety centres here, that you keep yourselves — " keep yourselves, beloved, in the love of God." Guard against those declines which are perpetually coming on ; watch, lest the flame languish and expire ; guard it with a holy jealousy, as the priests did the fire on the altar of old. Here is the great secret of maintaining a scriptural, consistent, evangelical piety in the heart and conduct. Our religion is as our hearts are. If we really love God above all things, and walk in his love, every thing else will go on right: but if love decline, if the heart be open to every evil, if the understanding be ungarrisoned, as it were, and the love of God be absent from the heart and aflfections, then the first seducer finds it an easy prey ; and then, if those arise that creep in unawares and turn the graceof our God into lascivi- ousness on the one hand, or deny our only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ on the other, the heart has but little guard — it has but little from the education of early instruction, and the remains of conscience. What an amazing blessing is a national church ! It upholds all the doctrines of the gospel, and all the framework of Christianity, and does not leave us to the moving sands of human passions. It is well if the man be kept in the way at all, by the sacraments and by the means of grace ; but without the love of God he has no inward guard. You will ever find that those who go away into any of the superstitious novelties, corruptions, fol- lies, and extravagances of any particular day, are those in whom the love of God is declining in the heart ; and be it remem- bered that our own day is not different from others, and that what we observe is merely the last edition of Satan's follies ; for they have been continually published. From the very first moment that the authentic book of God came out into the world, Satan's surreptitious editions have been ever attempting to palm themselves upon the church. Then it is in this way, brethren, tha* we are to keep ourselves : " Keep your- selves in the love of God." Let nothing else satisfy you ; never let the world draw you off from this high ground ; labour to rise higher and higher in the scriptural love of God, in this principle, in its proper effects, in all its experience, till it comes down to the ten commandments, and has its fruit in holy lives, righteous conduct upright demeanour, and a loving, gracious temper — temper and spirit formed by the love of God. There are many, beloved that go some length in religion, but do no* come up to this point, nor do they aim at it There are, it is to be feared, too many tha* are content with the common run of reli- gious feeling and evangelical practice, but 80 THE BRITISH PULPIT. never think of rising up to the real stund- ard of Scripture in the prevailing, supreme love of God in the heart. " Keep your- selves therefore, beloved, in the love of God." It is, indeed, God alone who can keep the feet of his saints. The Chris- tians are described in the beginning of the epistles as " the preserved in Christ Jesus." It is God only that is able to keep us from falling, and we are kept by liis power through faith unto salvation. But still we are to keep ourselves. That is the way that Scripture puts things. We are to be diligent in the use of all the ap- pointed means, to be active as reasonable and accountable creatures. " He that is born of God sinneth not; but he that is begotten of God keepeth himself, and that wicked one toucheth him not." " As the Father hath loved me," says the Sa- viour, " so have I loved you : continue ye in niy love" — that is, keep yourselves — " continue ye in my love. If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love ; even as I have kept my Father's commandments, and abide in his love." Now, brethren, how far have we acted on this great principle during the course of the ministry which is now terminating in this particular part of our Lord's vine- yard ] How far have I succeeded, and my brother ministers, in our public and private instructions, in bringing you up to this point, of receiving and understand- ing in what essential religion consists % I apprehend, take the world in general, they know not what the love of God means ; nor what it is to have the heart filled with it ; nor what is the standard Scripture proposes. They satisfy them- selves with some mere carnal expression of admiration of God's goodness — God the moral governor and God the judge ; but as to any distinct and practical idea of the love of God in the operations of his grace upon the heart ; the holy flame of contemplation of his divme excellences — the memory of his mercies — the labour to keep the heart by prayer, by meditation, by secret devotion, by the study of the Scrip- i tures, as well as by the sacraments and the means of grace, they are totally igno- rant of it. Why, there are many before us, I cannot but fear, if they will honestly examine their hearts, will find themselves in this state. Young people. I ask you, have you ever thought in youi lives, seri- ously and practically, of proposing this main point as the end of your religion 1 My prayer this morning is, to gain every heart that is within the hearing of this voice, to the love of God ; and if there be any present destitute of it, however op- posed, however they may resist, how- ever prejudiced, however ignorant, here is the object I have in view this morning, to put them in the way of discerning what is the main scope of practical religion, and then of beginning to seek it. And I have another design, which is, that all of us who have any measure of this sacred affection may have it kindled to abrightei flame ; that we may be humbled in the dust under the petty measure of our habi- tual love to God ; that we may be prepar- ing and seeking more and more to know ourselves. From henceforth to youi dying hour " keep yourselves in the love of God." But you will naturally ask, What are the appointed means ] — what are the chief methods by which, in a world of sin like ours, we can pursue this high attainment ? Tills is our Second point. The chief MEANS OF ATTAINING THIS HIGH AND LOFTY STANDARD OF PRACTICAL PIETY, and ihcSe ■Axe faith and p7-ayer — faith, as to the par- ticular doctrines of revelation on which the gospel rests — prayer, as to the strength and consolation of the Spirit which the gospel promises. " Building up your- selves in your most holy faith, praying- in the Holy Ghost." Religion in the heart of man is here compared to a building, the foundation of which is faith in Clirist. That is the foundation of heavenly truth which laith embraces and builds upon as the founda- tion of that spiritual edifice laid in the human heart by regenerating and sancti- fying grace. This faith is not a mere assent, a mere historical notion, a mere agreement with a national creed, a mere not opposing certain practical truths, but it is a spiritual, holy affection, wrought in the heart by the blessed Spirit. " He that hath received his testimony hath set A FAREWELL DISCOURSE. 8) to his seal that God is true." "With the heart man believeth unto rij^hteous- ness," " For by grace are ye saved through faith, and that net of your- selves :" — the faith is not of ourselves — " it is the gift of God." Unto you it is given on behalf of Christ to believe on him. The doctrine thus received by an obedient faith is laid straightway as the foundation of the divine building in the soul. The whole revelation made by Al- mighty God to man in his word is that which faith embraces, seizing, grasping, and then applying to its proper purpose. There is the foundation of the spiritual building. But this faith more especially relates to two great points of revealed religion — the fall and the recovery of man. What is your Bible 1 It contains the fall and the recovery of man. What is the gos- pel ■? It contains the fall and the recovery of man. What are the great means by which all the operations of God and the designs of benevolence are to be accom- plished 1 By the knowledge of the fall and the recovery of man. Natural religion is the love of God. I mean by natural religion, not the religion that man can practice in a fallen state, but that which was adapted to man before the fall, and results from the primary quality of his nature — that essential rela- tion between such a creature as man, and such a glorious being as God in every possible circumstance in which their relation may vary. That is an intelligi- ble meaning ; Bishop Butler and all the greatest writers use the expression, " na- tural religion," in that sense. Then revealed religion is all the system, which I am now going to mention, of revealed truth, all the particular scheme of re- demption, which is the remedy for bring- ing man back from the fallen state into which he had lapsed, and for raising him again partially in this world, and com- pletely in another, to the love of God for which he was formed, and without which he can neither be happy here nor here- after. Man is ruined by sin ; the wrath of Al- mighty God in which he lies by nature ; the evil nature of sin as committed against Vol. L— II God ; that corruption and alienation of the heart which is enmity against the scrip- tural character and government of God; the false estimate of virtue and religion prevalent in the world ; the vain and in- sufficient sparks and spangles, as it were, of piety, of which the world glories and boasts, all this revelation lays open and makes known as the disease. It comes as a faithful physician, and instead of skinning over the wound as the empiric would do, and as all false religions do, Christianity probes the corrupt sore, opens it to the very bottom, deepens it, and puts the patient to increased pain foi the moment ; but it is in order to pour in the heavenly balm, to begin an efl'ectual and a permanent cure, to raise to health, to vigour, to peace, to joy, to soundness in future life. The doctrine of the fall may, indeed, be overstated, and so may every thing else. It may be so put, in the heat of controversy, as to appear to deny man's responsibility — the faint re- mains of moral feeling which he pos- sesses— the duty of exciting him and urg- ing him to act as an accountable being — the capacities of restoration which still hang about him ; but in its genuine scrip- tural tenor, as laid down in the Holy Bible, and as laid down also in the arti- cle of our own church upon original or birth sin, it is essential to the entrance of all truth. Till this is learned, nothing is learned ; but the moment the penitent sin- ner begins to discover his state by nature as a transgressor, not merely against his fellow-creatures, not merely from the miserable consequences of sin, not merely because he feels the lapse of rectitude, and the disappointment of hope, but be- cause he has sinned against God, because his heart is apostate and in rebellion against his Maker, and his Redeemer, and his Lord, that moment the man is prepared for the gospel. Tell him of the name of Jesus, hold up the light of the gospel to his now darkened and benighted soul — because the vain, flowery vision, and the magical arts of Satan, have been now extinguished — and the man feels the darkness in which he is groping ; tell him now, that the Son of God came down from heaven to " reconcile the. world untc 82 THE BRITISH PULPIT. himself, not imputing tiieir trespasses unto them ;" tell him that " God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life ;" proclaim to him pardon and free gratui- tous acceptance and adoption into the family of God by the imputation of the righteousness of Jesus Christ received by faith, and in proportion as that faith in the penitent's mind is strengthened, which commonly takes a considerable period, (every thing lasts best which goes on slowly and surely — fits and starts do lit- tle good in any thing, and least of all in religion,) in proportion, I say, therefore, as the penitent becomes a little strength- ened, the doctrine of a crucified Saviour, the glory of his person, the infinite love of his death, the salvation by grace through faith in his atoning blood, will be the ap- propriate medicine of the broken heart, so will he cherish love to God. The doctrine of the fall and the doctrine of the recovery of man in the redemption of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the operation of the Holy Ghost, answer to each other as the impression answers to the seal, line by line, and feature by feature. The cor- responding parts of revelation, all that regards the fall of man, and then all that regards his recovery, respond to each other line by line, feature by feature, even as the impression answers to the signet by which it is made, and you will easily assume, that upon this foundation the man begins to build well. When this foundation is well laid, and you must dig deep to lay it, superficial convictions, and slight sandy foundations will not do when the storm comes ; but the foundation being well laid by the instruction of ministers, the help of the primary teacher the Holy Ghost, much prayer, the sacraments, and all the means of grace, the man begins to build up himself in love, in meekness, in lowliness of heart, in knowledge, in joy, in peace. Here the building begins to rise, and here he goes on building up himself all his life by this means upon his *' most holy faith." While others are building up their houses, raising their mansions, beautifying their outward struc- tures ; the character of the sincere Chris- tian is, that he is building up himself on his " most holy faith." Mark ! " most holy faith ;" for there is no part of this faith that does not savour of holiness. A man must strangely per- vert the whole before he can turn it to lasciviousness, wantonness, and a worldly life. The most awful case in the whole world, when it is done, is uniting an evan- gelical creed with a worldly heart and an ungodly life. Awful is the unnatural commixture. It is turning our " most holy faith" into the gall, and poison, and wormwood of the unrenewed heart, and in this way the love of God goes out in the soul. You may easily see how the means contribute to the end. Here is the temple that is to be built, and here is the scaffolding, and it is only through the medium of such means that you can build up yourselves in your " most holy faith." All attempts to bring men to love God by mere declamation, by philosophic subtle- ties, by dwelling upon some parts of the divine character, — as j'ou read that some of the German writers did by dwelling merely upon the amiableness, the benevo- lence, and the goodness of the Deity, — without any distinct respect to redemp- tion, are futile and ineffectual. Such was the error into which the mj'stics, Fene^on, for instance, and other contemporaneous writers, in a great measure, fell. They looked to the end, but did not consider the means — the atonement — the redemp- tion— the propitiation of the Son of God, all the great work which he wrought on the cross, and which is the centre of re- vealed religion, the centre of essential and primary religion. And when men set themselves to work on this footing of their own power, own duties, own per- formances, preparing themselves for faith, seeking the love of God, it is worse than the Egyptian bondage, in which the Egyp- tians compelled the Hebrew captives to make the bricks without straw and neces- sary means. It is all the mere pageantry and sophism of Satan if the gospel be left out. If this be not made the prominent, the chief means of our ever coming to the love of God, our building up ourselves, there is no building up ourselves on our " most holy faith" in Christ Jesus. A FAREWELL DISCOURSE. 83 But lliis is not the only means. We must not think wo can do these tilings by faith merely as an act of our own, or with- out God's assistance. We must not think that any system, however correct, can lead to our keeping ourselves in the love of God. No ; we must remember, that unless we pray much for the Holy Ghost, all is dead in our religion. Not all the grace of Christ — not all the wonders of Bethlehem — not all the unutterable ago- nies of Gethsemane — not all the mysteri- ous death of the cross can save the soul without the Holy Spirit. " Praying in the Holy Ghost" is as necessary in order to keep the heart in God's love, or to bring it there, or to recover it if it be at all declining, which it frequently, I was go- ing to say almost always is, more or less in our hearts : " Praying in the Holy Ghost" is as essential as building up our- selves in our "most holy faith." For, beloved, remember prayer is the breath of the soul — prayer is the link between miserable man and his merciful Creator —prayer is the channel by which all our desires are conveyed, and flow upwards as it were to God, and all his benefits and blessings are conveyed, and flow down- wards to us, and therefore it is that we must pray much in the Holy Ghost. Formal prayers will do no good. " This people draw near to me with their lips and with their mouths." They show me much love, but their heart is gone after their covetousness. Dear brethren, we cannot pray with fervour, with simplicity, with humility, with perseverance, with- out the Holy Ghost; in fact, such is our weakness, that we can but just pray aright with the Holy Ghost. What are we with- out the Holy Ghost 1 We are without love — without meaning in our prayers — without humility — without fervour — with- out importunity — without spirituality. It is a carcass dead, and even offensive, without the inspiring Spirit that makes life, and gives health and animation, and efficacy to all the parts of our Christian frame. It is when, as the apostle says, " we pray always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit" — it is when *' the Spirit helpeth our infirmities, for we know not what we should pray for as we ought : but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered," that we pray with the heart. Then the love of God grows apace - — then declines are presently remedied^ — then we keep ourselves in the love of God —then errors and novelties, and those who would turn the grace of God into lasciviousness, and all these things lose their seductive charms. There is no room for them in the heart, because it is full of the love of God, and the man's hands are full of building up himself in his " most holjj^ faith," and he is " praying in the Holy Ghost," and he has more than enough to do. It is those that stand idle in the market-place whom Satan masters, and renders the objects of a dangerous, novel, and corrupt influence in the church ; and, therefore, it is in the use of these means that you are preserved. You have the whole structure of religion — you have all the doctrinal duties — you have all the means of grace — you have all the sacra- ments— you have all the various methods which Almighty God has appointed for diff'using the blessings of Christianity, faith and prayer, doctrine and devotion, preaching and adoration — these are the means by which the love of God is pre- served in the heart. And now, dear brethren, upon this branch of our subject, are you as cordial- ly agreeing with me, and as deeply con- vinced how dependent we are upon the means as you are persuaded of the magni- tude, and loftiness, and pre-eminence of that in which the sum and substance of religion itself consists 1 No man ever yet felt the value of the love of God that did not cling pretty closely to the means by which it is to be brought into, and kept alive in, the heart. And this is the real foundation of a consistent ardour in the church — of that devotional habit in our own heart which it so pre-eminently tends to nourish — of the fruitful Christian being content with his own minister, his own place, or church, and the means of grace offered to him by the God of Providence, knowing that in this way he is far more likely to prosper than by being like the wandering stars, now here, now there, first under one and then under another in- 84 THE BRITISH PULPIT structor; and thus all the sap and life of religion is evaporated, and a dangerous excitement is very often substituted for the real scriptural, sober piety of the gospel. And therefore you should pray, beloved, that the doctrines of faith and of the Holy Ghost in this church, and wherever God's word is preached, may be maintained ; for undoubtedly it is essential to the effi- cacy of all the other means of grace that there should be the preaching of the word, because God has appointed it as the living organ, the life-stirring trump that is to blow up and to convoke the assemblies of the Lord ; and because all other means will too frequently sink into the mere opus operaium,a. mere formality, if there be not the living minister to quicken — to arouse — to awaken — to stir up the hearts of men — to call the ungodly to the Saviour, whatever he may have to endure in rous- ing the attention of a careless world, and in reviving, as far as he can, the tone of sober, scriptural, spiritual, evangelical religion. And it is a singular comfort to my own mind to know, that in the years that have passed, there has been a rapid rise throughout our beloved national church of this genuine spirit of godliness and piety, of evangelical doctrine and faithful administration of the sacraments in and throughout her clergy. I feel, as to my own honoured parish, the most complete satisfaction of mind in the ministers who have been appointed, and who will con- tinue to labour among you. There wants only the mutual prayer, " praying in the Holy Ghost," in order that your doctrine and faith may be kept pure and enlight- ened, that the love of God may be the great object to which they are directing your endeavours, and an elevated tone of religion the blessed result. But you will say, with such a system of means to be employed, and so great a point as the main object of religion, is there any inspiring and adequate encou- ragement to cheer us up under the whole 1 "What is the inspiring hope 1 What is the comfort ] — for we have divers afflic- tions to meet with in life — our faith has many fiery trials to pass through — we have much to endure from a world lying in wickedness, and which has a carres- pondence with the traitorous passions in our own hearts. Satan has the advantage in his work, for he knows there is a traitor in the garrison — our remaining corruption. There is an affinity between Satan's temp- tations, the world's seductions, all kinds of errors, and the remaining disorders and corruptions in our understanding, aflec- tion, will, and conscience, and therefore we have all these to battle against. It is not plain sailing; it is not a mere thing that may be learned easily. Brethren, there is no getting to heaven in an easy manner; at least, I never found it out. My Saviour teaches me, that " strait is the gate," and then when we get in, " nar- row is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." As soon as you enter the way, Satan sets out, the spiritual adversary ; and he stands across the path, as it were, to resist you, so that it is natural to ask. Thirdly, What encouragement is THERE ] What is there to cheer the HEART AND TO FORM A COMPENSATING MO- TIVE FOR ALL THIS EFFORT? ThERE IS much, and it is no less than eternal life, " looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." The endless fruition of God, the pre- sence of that God which constitutes life in itself, which is eternal life, is our encou- ragement. The life we now live is a kind of death-like life. It is a doubtful life ; it is a flickering flame, as it were, which sometimes seems to almost expire, and then it seems to start up again into bright- ness. This life is a brief life ; it is an uncertain life ; it is a mingled life, a great part of it lies in the valley of humiliation and in the shadow of darkness. But that life deserves the name — it is that life which consists in the perfect knowledge, love, and fruition of God — that life which is never to end, never to abate in intensity of enjoyment. Conceive of that idea, never to abate in intensity of enjoyment, but always to go on augmenting and aug- menting in larger measures of the vision, knowledge, love, and coiMnunion of God. For though I apprehend perfection as to the measure of our capacity will be vouch- safed even immediately after death, and when the resurrection restores these mor- A FAREWELL DISCOURSE. 85 tal bodies and kindred spirits, yet I con- ceive, also, there will be a continual pro- gress in the capacities of enjoyment, an augmentation in all the means and inlets of knowledge, the visions of love, the extacies of joy, increased communion with God throughout eternity. I conceive that Satan, from the moment of his fall, has been augmenting in his satanic capa- cities, in his deteriorations, alienations, distances, and so on ; and I apprehend every saint will be in the opposite state, ever increasing and augmenting in that eternal life upon which he will enter. This eternal life, beloved, is the natural close of the love of God in which we keep ourselves upon earth. It is nothing more, in fact, than that love developed ; it is nothing more than the sweet and fragrant bud fully brought out to its bloom. We are to eternity what we make ourselves in time, taking the expression " make ourselves" with its proper limit, and remembering always the grace and sove- reignty of God. Time is the seed-plot for eternity. The love of God now needs only to have its surrounding impediments removed, and its inward principle deep- ened, and there is eternal life, the pre- sence of God flowing in upon it; and this blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ unto eternal life, is just the encou- ragement we want. This world is not to last for ever. These changes and sepa- rations are not to be repeated without in- termission ; it is only for a short time, and then we shall all be swallowed up, " That mortality might be swallowed up of life." " Looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." We must look from the storm when it beats, from the creatures when they disappoint us, which they constantly do ; it is meant they should, they are not capable of doing any thing else ; and it is only just in set- ting lightly by them, and just letting them lightly into the heart, and keeping the heart in the love of God supremely, that we have the real enjoyment of the crea- ture. And then it is in this way that we are kept and go on looking for this mercy. Give me relief at last, give me peace at last, give me the prospect of the object accomplished, and then the soul reposes itselfand solaces itself in God. That is the principle, I apprehend, upon which God has constituted the human mind. We are capable of great exertion if we have but an adequate prospect. That is the stimulus upon which we are continually acting. All our pursuits, all our schemes, all our mercantile speculations, all our maritime discoveries, all our efforts to advance science, all the nights and days spent by philosophers in the examination of the physical sciences and arts, what is the stimulus to these varied occupations'? Every party is animated by the pleasures of discovery and by the hopes of success. How much more when these principles of our nature are sanctified by that which contains all philosophy and all science, and every thing that man has ever devised, and are animated by the brig-htest pros- pects beyond the grave ! It is in this way we are sustained, " by hope we are saved," by hope we go on. The separations, and griefs, and unmanly and excessive sor- rows, which depress the worldly heart, that sees all dark, of course, beyond pre- sent enjoyment, are not removed from the Christian, but alleviated, rendered tolera- ble by the mighty power of those Chris- tian principles, which, when they enter the heart, rule there, are not subject, and subordinate, and petty servants in the heart, but are sovereign there, and rule supreme. But mark, it is "the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ." Mercy, that is what we first pray for — mercy ; the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, who died upon the cross — that is the blessing we next pray for. The mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave his Holy Spirit to sanctify the church, that is the next blessing we pray for. The mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ in all the subsequent events of life, the trials of life, the sorrows of life, the pres- sure of declining age, the torrent of trouble, that every now and then bursts across our way, overflows all the banks, and inun- dates as it were the soul — then it is the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ of which we stand in need. And in this frame we come up to heaven's gates. You must H 86 THE BRITISH PULPIT. come up to the gates of heaven a contrite sinner, or you never can look for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. The very last step taken in this world must be that of joy and consolation, occa- sionally indeed of lively hope, but of con- trition and penitence for sin, or else you cannot come into the condition in "which alone you can enter heaven, looking for " the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." Let those look to merits who can find any on which to rest ; let those look to their own works who think they have enough to build upon ; let those look to their own sufferings and sorrows who have got any to show; but let us, knowing our unworthiness, and the mise- rable character of all our best services, let us look to the " mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." The mercy, the act of mercy — probably the apostle may refer to that act of mercy which is the last we shall want, when at the bar of Christ, standing with an assem- bled worldj nothing but the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ can adjudge us eternal life. It is therefore, I apprehend, to the merciful sentence, the last act, the great conclusion of the whole scene of our duty, to which we are here looking, " looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." I pause here to direct your attention to the divinity of Christ implied in this lan- guage. What am I to do ? To look for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ. Then is he no better than myself? Is he only a man ] To entertain such senti- ments is blasphemy ; but I trust it is only in the most intense ignorance that they have been formed. No, brethren ; if I am to look to him in all my struggles and emergencies, if I am to say with Stephen in the article of death, " Lord Jesus, re- ceive my spirit ;" if with St. Paul I am to pray to my Redeemer that the thorn may be taken out of my flesh — (thrice did the apostle pray that it might be taken from 'him, and he gloried in his infirmities that the power of Christ might rest upon him) — if in heaven I am to sing that blessed song, " worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches, and wisdom and strength, and honour and glory, and blessing," then that Saviour is as the apostle tells us he is, " the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ;" or as the apostle says in this very epistle, " deny- ing the only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ;" or as the apostle says in another place, " Jesus Christ who is God over all blessed for ever." Dear brethren, the doctrine of our Lord's divinity with that of the personality and Deity of the Holy Ghost, (who is described in Scripture as coming, as guiding, as sending, as being grieved, as consoling, which are as much personal acts as any of our Re- deemer's acts were personal,) is as clearly revealed as is the existence of God. And then, in the text, we are commanded to " pray in the Holy Ghost ;" and he that prays in the Holy Ghost, acknowledges by his language the divinity of the Holy Ghost. Then you have in the doctrine of this day's solemnity the blessed and adorable Trinity — the Three-One, the Trinity of the Godhead in the mystery of the divine glory, which I know not how to explain, and which I would not at- tempt to explain, and which the Bible does not require me to explain, because it tells me, " great is the mystery of god- liness, God manifest in the flesh." But all the objections I ever had the misfor- tune to hear against the doctrine of the Trinity were mis-statements of facts, mis- apprehensions of arguments, and a plain denial of the common language and obvi- ous meaning of the Holy Ghost; and by these artifices I could prove any thing, set aside any act of parliament, change any one of the ten commandments, and make the whole Bible out a nullity. The common-sense interpretation of the Bible is involved in the faith which believes that God speaks to man in the language of man, that by man it ma)' be received. But to return. It is in this temper that we are to " look for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life ;" and it is in this way that we have abundant en- couragement to inspire our languid hearts, and such is the elevated tone of religion to which, with the apostle, I would ven- ture to exhort you. Such is our privilege, such the sum and substance of our duty, to walk in the love of God, to keep in A FAREWELL DISCOURSE. 87 that holy blessed frame, to grow in the love of our God and Saviour. Such are the means placed before us for the attainment of this great object, namely, faith appre- hending all the works of God in Christ Jesus, and prayer poured out before him by the power of the Holy Ghost. And such is the encouragement to cheer the drooping heart, " looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." The whole hangs together, and there is a correspondence in the magnitude of the end, and in the magnitude and fitness of the means ; and there is a correspondence in the brightness of the encouragement. No man can read the text, and understand it, without saying, " these are the words of eternal life — no mortal pen ever dic- tated such a sentiment." And now, brethren, let me First exhort all of you not to be satisfied with any thing heloiv this in your future course nf life. Aim, I pray you, beloved, at further pro- gress in this divine and heavenly religion. Examine yourselves. Is this my religion ? If it be, am I growing in it ] am I advanc- ing in it T am I going forward in it ? am I more and more increasing in love to God ] If I liave fallen into decay, am I coming back? Perhaps half the Christian bre- thren that hear me may feel the note, when it is touched, vibrate in their own hearts. Beloved, if you have in any measure fal- len from God, or in any measure declined, will you come back, will you begin again to build up yourselves in your " most holy faith," to pray in the Holy Ghost, and keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life 1 He that is satis- fied in a low and doubtful state of Chris- tianity, has no Christianity at all. There is no such thing; there is no religion that is not a growing religion, a vivacious, augmenting, increasing religion. There may be a sickening religion, but it does not deserve the name ; until it attains something of health we can express no iiope, and we dare not poison you by flat- tery. Let, therefore, this be the first improve- ment that I will venture to leave on my own heart ; and let, my beloved friends, let nothing short of this standard satisfy you. Aim high. He that darts his arrow to wards the heavens, will reach a greatei height than he that turns it on earth. Let, at least, our standard be high ; let our aim be high ; let the law of God in all its am- plitude be the object of our pursuit, the means of grace, the diligent instruments we employ, and the looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, our strong en- couragement. Secondly, let all be convinced that this is the only religion that can save the soul. Now this includes the conduct of all those whom 1 have now the pleasure, though a painful one, yet the pleasure to address, on this occasion. Let the highest not be satisfied with less attainments ; let the lowest not despond at the first be- ginnings ; let all be convinced that there is no other religion. There is no other bridge thrown over the bottomless abyss of the world's misery but Jesus Christ, and him crucified : there is one religion, and hut one. Sceptic, you will find at last that your vain reasonings are the mere ignis fatuus of a corrupt understanding. You will find, believe me, that a peni- tent's heart, that one tear dropped over your Bible for your sins, is worth all the metaphysics and all the speculations by which the head is lifted up and inflated, and the heart hardened. Worldly profes- sor, there is no other religion will do. You cannot have the world and God at once ; you cannot have the love of the world and the love of God in the same heart at the same time. It is contrary to the nature of things ; as much so as it is in physical science for two bodies to fill the same space at the same moment. Vain prof essors of evangelical truth, who form a large class at the present day, and will be larger, it is Satan's art when the gospel is widely preached and spread, to induce us to rely upon national approba- tion, to hang upon that doctrine, to make religion consist of this and that charity, this and that feeling, this and that circum- stance ; to build up yourselves because we belong to this or that society, or are doing this or that good thing. O, my brethren, this is not the love of God ; and if is nothing but that which will prepare you for heaven, and nothing but faith in B8 THE BRITISH PULPIT. a crucified Saviour that can ever build you up in j'our " most holy faith !" Therefore, earnestly let me commend all that have not yet ascertained this great point, to take the friendly admonition, the last accents of one who desires to dis- charge his last duty, not merely by affec- tion and the most sincere wishes, but in honest endeavours to save every soul he can ere he embarks, as it were, for another world. And therefore I must come to thy conscience, sinner, wherever thou art. I caimnt find thee out, but God has thee under the glare of his eye at this moment ! Thou art quiverijig in thy seat at this instant, though I know thee not ! Take the friendly warning, and escape ! Flee, I pray thee, from the wrath to come ! Flee to the Saviour ere it be too late ! Begin real religion ! Renounce thy wine, thy harlots, thy lusts, thy pleasure, thy merely human science, thy poetry, thy ohilosophy, thy ever)' thing that stands in the way to heaven : and when you have received the love of God you will use only what is lawful in any thing. O, remember it is not what I say — sayeth not God the same 1 Is not God love ] If an earthly parent require the love of his child — if the love of a friend be the only essential quality of friendship — if a benefactor look for gratitude, I appeal to your common sense, I appeal to the tri- bunal of conscience — if it be not hardened by profligacy and habits of vice, which desolate conscience, and leave it like seared and callous flesh — if there be a conscience, if there be any thing of moral feeling in the sinner, shall not the God that made thee have thy supreme love ■? Shall not the Redeemer that died for thee claim and possess thy affection 1 Shall not the sanctifying Spirit see thee pray- ing for his grace ] Shall not the love of God be paid to thy heavenly Father, thy heavenly friend, thy divine benefactor 1 Yes ! O, may the angels of Christ take up the tidings to his throne that every sinner here is beginning to repent ! Yes ; I pause while the desire is fonned in the breast of every sinner. Let each one put up to the throne of mercy this ejaculation, " Lord, give me thy grace, and may I be- gin this heartfelt religion !" I pause that you may make the prayer in your own breasts. O, my God ! is there one that has not made the prayer 1 Is there a heart so hard that it has not seized the moment to aspire after grace and salva- tion ? No ; I so trust thy mercy, that I cannot think there is one from the young- est to the oldest that hath not addressed a prayer for the love of God ; and in that persuasion, beloved, I bid you fareicell. It was said by a great master of history, (I don't know whether these are his words, but they contain his sentiments,) Parvi affecfus loqtiuntur, magni tacent. Little griefs speak, great ones are silent. I say, therefore, in bidding you fare- well, I return you my most heartfelt acknowledgments for all the kindness and attention, and more than ministerial affection, which you have rendered to me. I also desire to beg your forgiveness, each of you individually, if you be pre- sent, (or if not, I desire it may be reported to every parishioner,) of any unintentional errors, offences, mistakes which I must I know have committed. I would likewise solemnly return my thanks, most of all, to Almighty God for his mercies to me. And "Aort'," brethren, ^'•xinto him that is able to heep you from falling, and to pre- sent you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion a7id power, both now and erer." Amei^. THE PULPIT G.A.r.LER'Sr. NO. III. THE (late) rev. JOHN FLETCHER, Vicar of Madeley. J. W. De La Flechere was born at Nyon, in Switzerland, on the I2th of Sep- tember, 1729. In March, 1757, he enter- ed the ministry of the Episcopal church, and with an uncommon degree of pastoral fidelity, and ardent piety, amidst much weakness of body, discharged with almost apostolic zeal and earnestness the varied duties of his office, until August, 1785, when he expired in the triumphs of faith. A FAREWELL DISCOURSE. 89 It has been recorded of him, that when vicar of Madeley, as often as a small congregation could be collected, which was usually every evening, he preached to them. He visited every family in his parish that gave him access, for conver- sation and prayer; and no hour of the night, nor severity of the weather, pre- cluded his attendance on the sick. He interrupted the nocturnal revellings, then common among his young parishioners, ny his solemn but affectionate admoni- tions ; and braved the fury of the colliers, amidst their savage orgies and inhuman sports. At Coal-brook Dale and Madeley- wood, two hamlets in his parish, distant from the church, he preached alternately ; and erected, chiefly at his own expense, two buildings for more convenient wor- ship. At his church he preached twice every Sunday, besides catechizing chil- dren ; and often repeated his services, in the evening, at places considerably dis- tant. In his efforts to do good he mani- fested a zeal and perseverance rarely seen, and was frequently rewarded with a suc- cess as striking, as the means employed to obtain it. A poor collier, now living at Madeley, and upwards of eighty years of age, relates, that in the former part of his life he was exceedingly profligate, and that Mr. Fletcher frequently sought opportunities to warn him of his danger. " For," added the poor man, "he used always to run after such wicked fellows as I was, whenever he saw us, in order that he might talk with us, and warn us." Being aware of his pious vicar's inten- tions, this collier was accustomed, as soon as he saw him, to run home with all speed, and close the door before Mr. Fletcher could reach it : and thus, for many months together, he escaped his deserved reproofs. The holy man, however, still persevering in his attempts, on one occasion outran this determined sinner, and obtained pos- session of his house before him. The poor man, awed by the presence of his minister, and softened by the persuasive kindness of his manners, was greatly af- fected, and received those religious im- pressions which soon ended in a thorough change of his character. Another of his parishioners, who is still living, relates the following characteristic circumstance : — When a young man, he was married by Mr. Fletcher, who said to him as soon as the service was con- cluded, and he was about to make the accustomed entry, " Well, William, you have had your name entered in our regis- ter once before this." " Yes, sir, at my baptism." " And now, your name will be entered a second time. You have no doubt thought much about your present step, and made proper preparations for it in many different ways." " Yes, sir." " Recollect that a third entry of your name, — the register of your burial, will, sooner or later, take place. Think, then, about death, and make preparations for that also, lest it overtake you as a thief in the night." This person also is now walking in the ways of the Lord, and states, that he often adverts to this and other things which his serious and affec- tionate pastor found frequent occasion to say to him. Vol. I 12 h2 SERMON VII. MOTIVES IN MISSIONARY OBJECTS ESSENTIAL TO SUCCESS. BY THE REV. R. W. HAMILTON. " Let not, then, your good be evil spoken of." — Rom. xiv. 16. The question of Christian missions occupies, my l-eloved hearers, a very dif- ferent position in the public mind in our current history from that which it for- merly obtained. Statesmen do not neces- sarily, as at the first, denounce it; philo- sophers do not necessarily denounce it; travellers do not necessarily deprecate it. It does not, as of old, invariably provoke mercantile clamour and political alarm. Contempt has become more calm, and calumny has learned to impose a restraint upon itself. The old outcry is spent; the fierce ousel has obeyed the sound of re- treat ; " the stout-hearted are spoiled ; and none of the men of might have found their hands." Insinuation still secretes its subtle poison, and crawls its reptile course ; but the invective and menace which once filled our legislatures, our tribunals, our schools, our marts — which were heard in high debate, and were re- verberated by popular tumult — which gave a tone to polite letters, and an expression to outrageous vulgarities — these, with a few exceptions, which stand related to a system whose moderation can never be more than aflfected, and whose enmity it is impossible to allay or subdue —these more boisterous ebullitions have wellnigh died away. The adventurer, the speculator, the infidel, the bigot, must now avail themselves of other expedients, and have recourse to other weapons. The missionary enterprise has secured to itself no small portion of secular re- spectability ; there are many who are now disposed to do it homage on account of its indirect results. They have, indeed, no sympathy with its nobler aims. That 90 which is almost nothing in the estimation of the Christian — (and only any thing because of its accessary and incidental character with respect to the particular department of his benevolence and zeal) — the burning surface, the elaborate orna- ment, the productions of the soil — these form the scope and the reward of all their exertions : the soul, the object of our care ; the salvation of the soul, the prize of our ambition, have no points of attraction, and no ground of admiration for them. How could they value in others that which they in themselves do not appreciate 1 How could they desire for others that which they do not seek for themselves 1 But there are accidents to our cause, and in our progress, which are levelled to their understanding — inferior spoils which are congenial to their tastes. The subserviency of missions to literature and science — in arranging languages whose name had not hitherto been heard — in supplying knowledge touching mytholo- gies which had hitherto been screened from every curious eye, and fenced from every intrusive footstep — in marking, with a very accurate geography, the chart of rivers and oceans, states and countries — in collating facts which sustain the most important conclusions and systems in physical truth ; — the favourable influ- ence of missions in providing security for persons, and infusing confidence into barter, as well as opening new fields, and establishing fresh interchanges, by accus- toming the savage to social institutions — the grandeur of the very scheme of mis- sions taking hold upon the imagination, and of the mind, as the nearest possible MOTIVES IN MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 91 approach to disinterested virtue, embody- ing that which had been hopeless as a vision, and baseless as a dream — the cer- tain success of missions — certain, as it is seen in a thousand peaceful trophies of civilization, mild manners, and enlight- ened principles ; these great issues have surrounded missions with a considerable share of favour, and have adjudged to them a character even of renown. The enmity of the human heart is what it ever was against the revealed history of free mercy, and the strict purity of Christianity. But some of its stronger efforts, in consequence of these circum- stances, have been remitted — some of its wilder frenzies have been dropped. At least, it never can be made a charge against us that we are engaged in an un- tried invasion, in a rash experiment. We have the results before us, and that charge is reduced to silence, if not put to shame. We are truly thankful that we can refer to an effect which runs within the range of worldly prepossessions ; but chiefly we rejoice over the deeper process into which the unrenewed mind cannot enter — a hid treasure, which the hopes and sj'mpathies of the world can never make its own — the consequences that a solemn treaty attaches to all that take a part in missionary operations. This thing is not done in a corner ; they are a city set upon a hill, and every shadow cast from it is ob- served ; they are the light of the world, and every wavering of the flame is noticed. Their language is extensively quoted ; their deportment is narrowly watched ; they have to pass through a fearless scru- tiny heated sevenfold. Myriads of eyes are upon them — eyes which stand out with suspicion, with jealousy, with dis- trust, with resentment, with rage. Hence arises the necessity of the greatest caution and prudence, as well as of the greatest frankness and intrepidity. Ought we not " to walk in the fear of the Lord, because of the reproach of our enemies V But we would rather make this a per- sonal inducement and reason arising out of the subject itself. Think of its sub- lime purpose, its high calling ; think of the estimate which has been fixed upon j> 'Mccessively by apostles, by evange- lists, by martyrs; think of the manner in which it approves itself to every holy precedent and principle, and commends itself to every holy sentiment and affec- tion ; think of your professed subjection to the gospel of Christ, and of " the pow- er which worketh in you mightily ;" think of the souls of the heathen in their un- computed millions, in their unfathomable woes ; and it will then be easy to convict the most generous of selfishness, the most disinterested of indifference, the most susceptible of apathy, the most de- voted of disaffection, the most liberal of parsimony, the most constant of fickle- ness, the most active of supineness and sloth. Should we not study a delicate and a sensitive consistency ] What man- ner of persons ought we to be ] We do good by communicating it. We are employed in an effort and a sys- tem of well doing. But let us clothe ourselves with the things that are amiable and of good report. Let us shun the ap- pearance of evil; and, though certain that it is a good, let us preclude the possibility of that good being " evil spoken of." You will allow me, therefore, my bre- thren, to give the following discourse a practical bearing and character. It shall be left to others to raise more delightful themes. We seem to have reached a crisis ; we ought now to come to a pause. What are we doing? What is the gene- ral impression of what we have done 1 There may be inconsistencies amongst those who profess themselves the friends of the Christian enterprise of missions; there may be inconsistencies, and " faith- ful are the wounds of a friend." There is no doubt in our own mind as to the genuineness, as to the reality of the be- neficence itself; but let us not give any occasion to them who seek occasion by which that beneficence might at all come under suspicion. Some of these incon- sistencies shall now be stated. I throw myself upon your candour — many of you know the heart of a stranger; and, whilst I will endeavour to feel as little as possi- ble a stranger amongst you, relieve that almost irrepressible sense of estrangement by your candour and by your prayers. Jfe are inconsistent when the truth we 92 THE BRITISH PULPIT. propagate among others we do not receive and experience ourselves. Create any great system of efforts, and many are blindly carried away by it. All facilities will be given to it; these will be the weight and sanction of example ; the very symptoms of proselytism and party will command its influence; the machinery is thrown into play ; the eddy is seen sweeping round within the vortex ; and how many are there who are blindly and insensibly hurried onward by the stroke of the one, or drawn in by the suc- tion of the other ! Apply these considerations to the mis- sionary apparatus. This is a scheme of labours most expansive, most complicat- ed, and most penetrating. These labours embrace each sex, each condition, each class. They stand like the cherub with outstretched wings and with human hand, showing how far they can extend their power, and ivitk what particu- larity it can be applied by them. It is impossible that any now can allege the excuse, " No man hath hired me." We have a chain by which to transmit the faintest spark; we have a channel by which to pour the smallest drop ; we have a distributive power by which our efforts are so stimulated that they may tell upon the world. Therefore, there are thou- sands who enter into this scheme with pleasure and with fervour. We do not denounce their sincerity. " Come, see my zeal," said Jehu, "for the Lord;" but it is subjoined, " Jehu took no heed to walk in the law of the Lord God of Israel ; for he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam, who made Israel to sin." And yet, what is more audacious in folly, more impious in irreligion, than to build that which you continue to imdermine 1 — to heal that which you continue to in- flame ? — to reconcile that which you con- tinue to agitate ■? — to cleanse that which you continue to defile 1 — to enforce that which you continue to supersede 1 You make a mock of sin, and warn men against it ; you desire, professedly, that " the ends of the earth may see the salvation of our God," and neglect the great salvation; you tear down that which you avow your- selves intent upon building up ; you tread under foot the Son of God, while you hold him up to the notice and the alle- giance of the world. To whom can we compare this genera- tion ■? There were builders of the ark whose floating corpses were sunk beneath it when it rose upon the bosom of the floods. There were donors of the taber- nacle who were as lepers thrust beyond the camp, or as blasphemers, stoned with- out relief. There were artificers of the temple who never there left their offerings, and never there worshipped their God. Have you thought of that meeting which awaits you ] For it is possible that you have been at work, and that your good, liable to be evil spoken of, is nevertheless good. The heathen, perhaps, shall ac- knowledge you in a future age — they shall acknowledge you, at the judgment- seat, as the instruments of bringing them to the knowledge of the Saviour, to that knowledge which is life eternal. Me- thinks that with the strong instincts of gratitude they know even as ye are known. Methinks that they now approach you, and that they call upon you to receive their grateful acknowledgments. What is their language ! " We owe to you that we are in Christ — you who were in Christ before us. You heard our cry, and fled to our relief; you saw our misery, and sent for its alleviation. Take these harps, and tune the songs ; take these crowns, and pay the tribute." Why are you rooted to the spot ] Why are your eyes cast down upon the ground 1 Why does your tongue cleave to the roof of your mouth 1 Why do you refuse their advances, and decline their solicitations ? Why gathers on that face that paleness 1 Why scares your ear that shriek 1 The heathens whom you have saved — see, they fly to their heaven as the doves to their windows. Mark their ecstacy — lis- ten to their song. The door is shut, and you stand without ; the guest-chamber is filled, and you are not within ; the assem- blage is complete, and you are not compre- hended ; the harvest is passed, the summer is ended, and you are not saved! We are inconsistent, secondly, when we violate the solemnity due to missionary transactions. MOTIVES IN MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 93 They who have suitably pondered them, who have taken their place and part in them, have always confessed that they were very auspicious to a growth in grace, and very confirmatory to the esta- blishment of the heart in grace. They have confessed that they were profitable, in every respect, and to all — " profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness." He who bears the aromatic plant will surely betray its fragrance ; and he who has wrought upon the gem and the gold will carry away with him some of the brilliant filings, some of the precious dust. But it may be asked. Have we not allowed, too frequently and too largely, a spirit of flippancy, and almost of levity, to encroach upon this sacred theme ■? We have not been mollified with all its circumstances, and have not been stricken with all its horrors. A world in misery is a painful spectacle — a world in rebel- lion is an appalling sight. Could the traveller, as he explores the vestiges of an ancient city, — its fallen theatres, its bro- ken aqueducts, its crumbling temples — could he explore these in a listless spirit ] Could the philanthropist traverse the wards of a lazaretto, and the cells of a prison, in a careless and sportive vein ? Could the negotiator address the disaf- fected and the insurgent in jocular tones and terms ? Could the high-priest, when, on the great day of atonement, he went, and not without blood, into the holiest of all, strike the dulcimer, or rejoice in the dance 1 Should not our spirits be better disciplined'? Should not our accents tremble, and the very fashion of our countenance change 1 We follow the long procession of eternal death ; and should we not be as the mourners going about the streets 1 We watch the com- mencing symptoms of the second death ; and should we not shudder while the worm which never dies begins to uncoil and to gnaw 1 We observe the earliest kindlings of the pit, and almost, like them who approach its mouth, are scathed with the blast; and while the numberless vic- tims are sinking into it, should not great fear come upon the church, and as many as hear of these things 1 There is a confusion and an indefinite- ness when we speak of the pagan world. It is not a light cure of souls — it is not a small plantation reclaimed from the wil- derness : we are to make the little and the scantling disappear, and the untold and the incalculable numbers burst into sight — continuous, successive as the w-aves of the sea, all rolling on, and all dying away upon an unseen shore. And what is our feeling'? Is it that of pitj' '? There is nothing of lightness in the ingre- dients that form that emotion: there may be placidity, but that is its strongest form : pity is thoughtful, and pensive, and sad. Oh, let not our " good be evil spoken of" by our betrayal into any thing that is light or trivial, or unworthy of the theme. Let us be solemn as Jesus when he upbraided Capernaum, and tender as when he M'ept over Jerusalem. Let us be overwhelmed with the thought of human guilt, and the sense of human misery, as when the man of sorrows fell upon his face in Gethse- mane, with strong cries and tears. Sdly. Our good may be evil spoken of when we form a partial and an unequal estimate of what is near and what is dis- tant in the condition of the human family. Prejudice governs us all. As the hu- man mind rejects two classes of emotions equally strong, so the human conduct rejects two courses of equally intense activities. We may not, perhaps, regard the one object too strongly ; but, in con sequence of not regarding aright, eithei may receive from us the most unmerited treatment. Hence, therefore, there springs a necessity, in all our Christian labours, of a well-regulated consistency, of a nicely-proportioned zeal. Let our judg ment be warmed by our feelings, but lei our feelings be regulated by our judg- ment. Fix your eye, my brethren, on youi native land. There are thousands, there are millions, besotted, embruted, sur- rounded by a light which never enters them, addressed by a power which has no ascendancy over them. In many re- spects their condition is most WTetched, because they have an accountability : they are within the light, and the hope is set before them ; and yet these die within 94 THE BRITISH PULPIT. our sight — they perish at our door. They are our brethren, our kinsmen according to the flesh ; are we to spurn them in the magnificence of our project, in the com- prehensiveness of our scheme 1 Should we not remember that disciple, of whom it is recorded, " He first findeth his own brother ]" Should we not think of that counsel given to him that was restored, " Go home, and tell thy kindred what great things the Lord hath done for thee, and how he hath had mercy upon thee?" Ought we not to dwell upon the memorable instruction — " Beginning at Jerusalem V Cast your eye, my brethren — or rather your mind — upon the vast tracts of pagan superstition. You cannot tell what is the darkness which broods over them, for there is no contrasting light ; you cannot judge the dimensions of their misery, for there is no standard of relief or consola- tion. Christ has not been named among them ; they know not that there is a Holy Ghost; they are without hope in the world. What misery is their lot ! What a precipice is their eternity ! And, in many respects, how must we think of them, when they have not so many mis- sionaries in the united phalanx among them all as we have, perhaps, in some favoured district of our beloved land ! All souls are equal. It may be that there is a diversity in original faculty, as well as in acquirements and in endow- ments ; but there is little difference in the capacity to suffer, and there is no differ- ence in the capacity to exist. Some spirits may present a broader surface for evil, but none a stronger texture for be- ing : — in these they are alike, whether the drudging slave in the mine, or the monarch flaming with the jewel it may supply ; whether the outcast who has not a burial-place, or the possessor of many estates ; whether him whom all spurn and avoid, or the favourite of fortune and of fame. But our " good will be evil spoken of," if we do not regard men as men ; if we allow the alien to dispel all thoughts of the naked, or the naked to dispel all thoughts of the alien. There cannot be more valuable spirits than those which throng the shores of the Ganges, the Indus, and the Nile ; but they are not less valuable spirits which throno; the majestic strands of the Severn, or lie on the banks of the Avon and the Ex. Let not the near engross the distant; and let not the distant out-dazzle the near. 4thly. Our good may be evil spoken of when the due relation between effort ana devotion is forgotten. There is a devotion that becomes self- ish : it is indulgent and indolent ; it is a passionless quietism ; it is a contempla- tive dream. It will hear of no sacrifice ; on no pretence will it be disturbed ; it wraps itself in luxuriant ease, and it is cloistered from all strife and danger ; like the bird which seeks the crystal fountain, sits in its solitary calm, and desires nothing but to muse the shadow of its unruffled beauty. There is an ex- ertion which becomes arrogant and pro- fane. It is an ostentatious bustle ; it is an impious usurpation, it is an artificial and mechanical frame. Its axe and its hammer send their jarring notes through the most secret and retired recesses of the sacred shrine ; and it may be com- pared to the eagle-bird, rising into the firmament, and gazing upon the sun, with unshrinking eye and with untiring fire. Now, devotion and exertion must be blended. " Stand still," said the legis- lator, " and behold the salvation of God !" But what said the answer of God unto him ] — " Why cryest thou unto me T Speak to the people thatthej' go forward." They were to see that salvation ; but that salvation was to be realized in connexion with human agency — not by standing still, but by going forward : and they sang the praises of their God. And so the apostle teaches us that we should labour always — " not slothful in business, fer- vent in spirit." Our devotion must not be fitful and intermittent; our exertions must not be casual and accidental ; we must endeavour to unite the two. Think of the apostles : they gave themselves to the word of God and to prayer, and they ministered unto the Lord ; but, having received the gift of Pentecost, what were the acts they performed, and what were the achievements they consummated ? Look at angels : high is their contempla- tion ; profound is their study ; wrapt in MOTIVES IN MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 95 silence is their awe ; and they veil their faces with their wings; bvit they have their errands and commissions, and "he makes his angels spirits, and his ministers a flaming fire :" they are swift to do his will and to hearken to his voice. Look at the Son of God and the Son of man : the temple trumpet ever called him to the house of prayer ; each festive season wit- nessed him among the pilgrims; he spent whole nights in devotion ; — but he " went about doing good." Let us, therefore, determine to pray, in order to sanctify our exertions; and to exert ourselves, in order to authenticate our prayers. Let us take heaven by force, by the means of the one ; and earth by force, through the means of the other. Let us, by the two- fold instrumentality, prove that we are sincere for God, and sincere to men. Let us lift up our hands, and let us stretch forth our hands. Let us have hearts filled with bravery, and let us carry hero- ically to the victory the standard which ■we have loved, deposited on the altar, and hallowed by the sacrifice. 5thly. Our good may be evil spoken of when v)e encourage worldly excitement. There is a hostile principle in particu- lar maxims, views, opinions, sensibilities, usages, institutions, which the world is made to present. This is the compre- hensive term employed by Scripture ; and epithet after epithet of disgust is poured out upon that principle. We are told tliat its incitements are most subtle and intoxicating : and He, who came travel- ling in the greatness of his strength, did not grapple Avith a shadow ; and when he overcame the world, it was not a phantom that he conquered. Happy are we, when, in imitation of our Master and Founder, we can make such a declaration as this, »' We have not received the spirit of the world : this is the victory which over- cometh the world, even our faith." But are none of our religious institu- tions tinctured with such a spirit? Are none of them conformed to such a model ] Is there nothing of fashionable excite- ment, nothing of sentimental feeling, nothing of evasion of truth, no suppres- sion of evidence, no endeavour at effect 1 Is there nothing like a worldly calculation. and a worldly aggrandizement, and a worldly policy, and a worldly precaution 1 It becomes us, my brethren, to disengage ourselves from such a snare, by main- taining the consistency of our character in the beauty of holiness — the firmness of our principle, as we are not our own— and the strictness of our motive, with our spirit serving God in the gospel of his Son. Oh, let us not throw round so hal- lowed a cause, so sacred a work, any of this meretricious spirit : let us not seek to please, any more than we seek to offend. 6thly, Our good may he evil spoken of when we entertain light impressions of the eternal future of the heathen. We have been told that many travellers and discoverers have been sometimes dis- credited, when they inform savage tribes that the reason for incurring all their toils and dangers was to trace a river's source, or to ascertain a planet's trans- mission. And we have also been told that, while our missionaries have obtained credit for their enterprise and their mo- tives, they also have been upbraided because their errand took not a firmer hold, and are asked how it is that their announcements receive a more speedy re- ception. Our institution can alone stand upon this admission — the certain as well as the tremendous danger of the heathen world. We shall be told of their natural religion, of their roamings in the forest, and their burrowings in the wood. We shall be told of their simple and their artless lives, of their kind and hospitable hearts ; and so, for a time, we may have been deceived by, but we have now learnt to understand, the fictionsof aLeBos and aChoo Loo. We shall be told of their conscious law ; but 1 et it be also told, that that law which they are unto themselves they have broken ; and they have the dread consciousness run- ning through their spirits that they who do these things are worthy of death. We shall be told of their consistent woTship, and of their classical systems of religion ; for it is not, in the estimate of men, ? point of any moment, whether homage rises from this earth to the adulterer and to the murderer, or to Jehovah, the Holy 96 THE BRITISH PULPIT. One. We shall be told of their ignorance of Christianity ; and we know that they are not condemned for iis rejection. But what does Christianity suppose concern- ing any heathen 1 That that heathen is in a fallen state, and in a perishing di- lemma ; and that, unless he believes, he must perish, and not have everlasting life ; and that if he does perish, he perishes under the sanctions of an immutable just- ice— justice bound up with all the obliga- tions of the primeval law. Perhaps it may be said that no other motive could ever enter into our mission- ary operations — and perhaps for a time none other did ; but then, this is the very motive given to our modern philosophy and theology. Charity is said to be the perverted errand ; and we are asked whe- ther we can conceive, or whether it is credible, that that should be the only errand. Alas, my brethren, that we should be made judges one of another! then are we judges of the law, and not doers of it. God is judge — he will re- spect his character ; and we affect not that morbid piety and jealousy concerning his character, which would represent him as more censorious than we are ourselves. We therefore say. Make missionary ope- rations any question of civilization — make them any question of comparative advantage, or of ameliorated state — giv- ing an increase of light already sufficient, and a confirmation of hope already well founded — make them the mere instru- ments for smoothing and turning the path, although it winds to safety and to bliss — and immediately the business will come to nought, and they will reject it as a needless waste, and as a meaningless superfluity. 7thly. Our good is liable to be traduced and to be evil spoken nf, when we obtrude party singularities into our missionary scheme. The names of denominations and of sects ,are convenient; they are self- defining and intelligible ; they save very much time, and prevent considerable cir- cumlocution. But let us remember that that which distinguishes those who alike hold the Head, and love the Lord Jesus in sincerity, is but the earthly guise and attire of Christianity, which she will put away when she passes the celestial threshold ; that it is only the scaffolding and the platform, quite distinct from the building: and that, when it is complete, the scaffold and the platform will be done away. We wonder not that in our colo- nies party denominations are found ; and even in flags over which our flag does not wave, not annexed to our crown, it is no less probable that the stranger there, the exile from his beloved home, should cleave to some fondly cherished scheme, and to some dearly-remembered distinc- tions. But all this is inferior to Chris- tianity itself; all this is very likely to embarrass the opening mind and the de- veloping judgment of the heathen convert. As far as possible, let the river, in its most distant and ample streams, lose the particular impregnation of its source ; let the banners of the universal host, while they retain their particular devices, most prominently exhibit the royal emblazon- ments common to them all. We must remember that, if we would gain upon the opinions, if we would obtain the suf- frages, of the heathen world, it is quite necessary that we give them pure religion and undefiled. In the mean time let us make the best of it. Jarrings there are abroad; and sometimes, though very faintly, they may be heard abroad. There is diversity, but there need not be difference ; there is diversity, but there need not be collision. If we may not possess the colourless ray of the virgin light, let us rejoice in the prismatic hue ; if we cannot possess the transparent diamond, let us be content to build up our foundation with precious stones of divers colours. You remember the inter-community of the heathen world ; they did not quarrel over their religion: "They helped every one his neighbour, and each said to his brother. Be of good courage. So the carpenter encouraged the goldsmith, and he that smootheth with the hammer him that smote the anvil, saying. It is ready for the solder- ing; and he fastened it with nails that it should not be moved." Let us no more contemn nor blame each other, though blamed enough elsewhere ; but strive, in MOTIVES IN MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 97 offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burdens in the share of woe. 8thly. Our good is evil spoken of, and liable to become ike object of detraction, when we disparage or make light of the missionary character itself. By these operations, a school has been formed in which greatness has built itself a house, with heroism of purpose, and dint of courage, and lovely and sublime enthusiasm and zeal. We love to think of such men, and we think that nothing is too great to be conceded to them, and that no honour is too vast to be devolved upon them. But is it not very possible that sometimes to such men we give a servile rank, a grudging support, a supercilious patronage ■? Do we not deem them too much our agents whom we may employ, whose purposes we may counteract, and whose will we may control 1 I know there must be law — I know there must be arrangement — I know there must be some authority, and some deference. But I remember how missionaries have sometimes been dealt with and spoken of, and then contrast this with the conduct of the generous Paul — who had such a claim to command, and who was so likely to be right — he washed Apollos to pro- ceed in a particular course, and to do a particular work ; but Paul was satisfied when he found that " his will was not at all to come." My brethren, let us re- member that if there be any upon earth worthy of a generous confidence, worthy of a large discretion, worthy of a delicate tenderness, worthy of a cordial esteem, it is these devoted men who have " hazard- ed their lives for the sake of the Lord Jesus." Let us, rather than dictate to them, or offer any disparagement of their characters and their motives, bow down before the men of such minds, and seek more the happiness of such hearts. 9thly. Our good may be evil spoken of in this missionary connexion, when we adopt harsher rules respecting our distatit proselytes than obtain in our churches at home. We have deviations, we have irregu- larities, we have wild fancies, we have fanatical superstitions. What age or what land ever yet witnessed speculations Vol. L— 13 of opinion so monstrous, interpretations of Scripture so extravagant, crudities of sentiment so disgusting, claims of infalli- bility so atrocious, simulations of inspi- ration so indecent and profane 1 If there be such a thing as religious insanity, we certainly have of late been favoured with some of its strangest contortions, the most fantastic babblings. And can we be sur- prised if error, if enthusiasm, if some visionary, if some absurdity, spring up in our churches abroad — weeds in the wastes so recently redeemed — demons returning to the dwelling which has been so lately emptied, swept, and garnished — the heav- ing of the storm only just now dispelled, the rocking of the ocean just allayed. But it would be better to turn from them, and to turn from ourselves ; let us think of all the wildnesses of extravagance in the churches of Galatia and Corinth, and then say whether we ought in fact to speak harsher of those who may have gone astray under circumstances of pecu- liar temptation, where character could not have been well formed, principle well settled, or feeling well disciplined. Again. Our good may be evil spoken of when we anticipate results from missionary labours untenable on scriptural ground. There has ever been a hope of some bright reversion, and some improved order of things awaiting mankind. This has lighted up the dying eye, and strength- ened and fortified the sinking heart, of the wisest and the best of our race. Philoso- phy has clung to it — poetry has almost made it its own — the pythoness spoke of it upon her tripod — and the sibyl wrote it on her mystic leaf: from Delphi these promises went forth ; and men have been always taught that there is a halcyon period coming when all their wrongs shall be redressed, and the presages of virtue be realized. Christianity conse- crates this hope ; it seems to wind around it the best yearnings and fibres of their bosoms. Remember what the gospel is : it is complete, it is whole. Therefore anticipate nothing that will innovate upon its character, nothing that will displace its present claims, or its present glories. It is its honour that it cometh not with ob- servation; nor can we find it with any ds THE BRITISH PULPIT. observation. Tlierefore " if they shall say unto you, Behold, he is in the desert ; go not forth : behold, he is in the secret chambers ; believe it not." Whatever is the consummation, it must be true to the principles and the promises of our reli- gion. And there are visions, without any disputed points — visions of glory, which stretch away to the utmost bounds of the everlasting hills— there are ages of peace which shall rise with the last syllable of recorded time. We wait no other arrival of the day that shall cover our earth with thorns and with briers — we want no other covenant with the stones, and with the beasts of the field — we want no other period but a world filled with trees of the Lord's right hand planting — we want no other trees of life but those whose leaves are for the healing of the nation — we want no other new heaven, no other new earth, but that in which dwelleth righteousness. Tell me, then, of such a millennium as this contained in these words, supposing them to be addressed to the world at large : — " Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men." — " Ye have obeyed from the heart that form of doc- trine which was delivered to you." Mark them which walk so, and paradise is re- stored, and Eden is regained. Lastly, Our good may he evil spoken of if we do not follow up our success. We have made a lodgment; and there are those who have gone up to the high places of the field, and they call on us to aid them, or they must perish in the breach. There is a harvest, and it bends under its own fruitful weight ; it invites the sickle ; and the wind begins to moan, and the air to chill ; and in a little time the summer will have passed ; and where thousands of hands should gather the spoil, and thousands of voices should swell the carol, there is seen, at immense intervals, solitary labourers, standing breast high, marked by the hopeless im- practicability of their work, and by the cheerless silence of their sphere of labour. We are committed to Christianity — we are committed to all who are opposed to Christianity ; we declare virtually that it is not worth a final exertion if now we give way ; we declare, as we thus cruelly thrust at the cause of Christianity, that all the past has been an idle dream, and that now we care not to give substantia- tion to it. Such, my brethren, is the series of practical observations which I have en- deavoured to impress on your minds; endeavouring to show you, that though you are doing good, yet that that good is liable to some imputation, and that it must be so done as to avoid and to resist all such imputations. I congratulate you on the results of your former benevolence, which have reached me in a distant part. We in a distant part, our pastors and teachers, have rejoiced in j^our good, and in our behalf that that good could not be evil spoken of. But it is necessary to persevere ; and never are we in so great danger as when we imagine all danger is escaped. Therefore, look well to your motives, look well to your plans, look well to your exertions ; and especially let not the charge of any thing new be brought against you. True, the subject has again and again been canvassed — made the subject of hundreds of dis- courses, addresses, and epistles. Show that it was principle that made you es- pouse it ; and show it is no want of prin- ciple characterizes you in deserting it. Desert it you will not. You may have suflfered as other cities have suffered, as other towns still suffer ; yet neverthe- less remember there is something you may withdraw from self — something you may retrench from indulgence : though when I speak to such a Christian assem- bly, I declare that to beg I am ashamed. 1 rather will make my closing appeal to those who received one in the earlier part of the exhortation — you who have long heard the gospel, and have heard it in vain — lulled into sleep by the very be- seechings of mercy, as well as by the very thunders of denunciation. You have had line upon line, precept upon precept. You ask us what is the fate of the pagan : alas ! we can only say " the wicked shall be turned into hell, with all the nations that forget God," — who have not liked to retain God in their knowledge, and who have not only done evil things themselves, but have had pleasure in MOTIVES IN MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 99 them that have done them. This is the fate of every heathen who dies in unre- pented and unforgiven sin. And how- shall he call on Christ as a Saviour of whom he has not heard 1 How shall he hear without a preacher"? But as to your fate — if there be any thing like a veil over his — as to yours, it is written dis- tinctly, it is written signally; and he who runneth may read. You who have no cloak for your sins — you perish like Nadab and Abihu, before the mercy-seat; you perish, like the inhabitants of Jerusa- lem, bathed with a Saviour's tears. You perish, but you wade through the blood of the cross in your journey to hell ; and you see the form that hung upon it, and you hear the voice that spake from it ; and that form shall ever haunt your eye, and that voice shall ever haunt your ear, while for eternity you are tormented with the devils and the damned. Yours is the retribution of incensed mercy, and wearied forbearance, and exasperated love. Yours is not the retribution of the Jew — yours is not the retribution of the pagan ; yours is a retribution all your own : it is not even the retribution which is allotted to the devil, though you share the everlast- ing fire with the devil and his angels. No — there is a pang in it which you your- self have inflicted ; there is a peculiarity in it which you yourself have infused. And methinks that pagans and Jews, and the devils themselves, as tbey see you tossing in the fire — see you sinking from gulf to gulf, and from deep to deep, will be glad to escape the agitation of your rage — be glad to escape the fierce upbraid- ings of your voice — be glad to escape the violent, the overwhelming terrors of your eye. Like the spectators of the mystic Babylon, they will " stand afar off, for fear of your torment." How shall you escape if you persecute, oppose, jeer 1 No, no : how shall you escape if you neglect so great salvation ? May God add his blessing. Amen and amen. O.N THE RE-UNION OF GOOD MEN IN A FUTURE STATE. If the mere conception of the re-union of good men in a future state infused a momentary rapture into the mind of Tully ; if an airy speculation, for there is reason to fear it had little hold on his convictions, could inspire him with such delight, what may we be expected to feel, who are assured of such an event by the true sayings of God! How should we rejoice in the prospect of spending a blissful eternity with those whom we loved on earth, of seeing them emerge from the ruins of the tomb, and the deep- er ruins of the fall, not only uninjured, but refined and perfected, " with every tear wiped from their eyes," standing before the throne of God and the Lamb. "What delight will it afford to renew the sweet counsel we have taken together, to recount the toils of combat, and the labour of the way, and to approach the throne of God, in company, in order to join in the symphonies of heavenly voices, and lose ourselves amidst the splendours and frui- tions of the beatific vision! To that state all the pious on earth are tending ; and if there is a law from whose operation none are exempt, which irre- sistibly conveys their bodies to darkness and to dust, there is another, not less cer- tain or less powerful, which conducts their spirits to the abode of bliss, the bosom of their Father and their God. The wheels of nature are not made to roll backward ; every thing presses on to- wards eternity; from the birth of time an impetuous current has set in, which bears all the sons of men towards that intermi- nable ocean. Meanwhile heaven is at- tracting to itself whatever is congenial to its nature, is enriching itself by the spoils of earth, and collecting within its capa- cious bosom whatever is pure, permanent, and divine, leaving nothing for the last fire to consume but the objects and the slaves of concupiscence. — Uall. SERMON VIII. THE NATURE AND CONSEQUENCES OF IMPENITENCE. BY THE REV. J. A. JAMES OF BIRMINGHAM. " But, after thy hardness and impenitent heart, treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God." — Rom. ii. 5. You will very naturally and very justly conclude, that, if the sermon harmonize . with the spirit of the text, the preacher does not intend to-night to trifle with your souls. God, in mercy to himself and you, forbid that he should ! The man that can trifle in the situation he now occupies, and in presence of the scene by which he is now surrounded, must be as incapable of impression from objects truly sublime, as he would be forgetful of the object which fcrought him to the pulpit, and unmindful ©f his responsibility to Him that sent him there. Listen to me while I very plainly unfold and enforce the meaning of the text ; and it shdll be my endeavour that nothing in the mode of representation adopted on this occasion shall stand be- tween the truth and your consciences. The love of money may be said to be the ruling passion of the great portion of mankind. How eager are their desires — how great their efforts — how ingenious their plans — how unwearied their indus- try, to lay up wealth ! And yet, as they brought nothing into the world, so neither will they take any thing with them when they leave it. All the fruits of their la- bour they must leave behind them ; and, unattended by any thing but the results of their conduct, enter into the presence of the all-searching, the all-seeing God. But there is a sense in which it may be said all men are laying up treasures in eternity. Of the righteous it is said they are laying up treasure (or, at least, they are exhorted to do so, and therefore it is implied they do it) — that they lay up treasure in heaven .- of the wicked it is said, in the text, that they lay up treasure in hell. After the hardness and impenitent heart that they possess— that is, accord- ing to their hard and impenitent heart, they treasure up unto themselves wrath against the day of wrath. This language was primarily addressed to the Jews. The apostle intended to impress them with the idea that all the interpositions of God on the behalf of their nation, through every period of its history, was designed to lead them to repentance ; but, instead of complying with this de- sign, they were wilfully ignorant of it — they were obstinately impenitent and un- believing; and, instead of being melted to repentance by the riches of mercy, they hardened themselves by unbelief and impenitence, so as to expose themselves to the wrath of God. Viewing them in their collective capacity, as a nation, the text received its accomplishment when the Romans came and burnt their city and temple, and carried into a miserable cap- tivity all who survived the slaughter of the siege ; and so great, so unparalleled was the misery endured by Jerusalem during that awful period, that, to quote the language of Josephus, " it seemed as if hell had been let loose to consume them with all its fires, and curse them with all its plagues." But these suflferings were only the type of that misery which, as individuals, they endure in the unseen world. It is to this more especially the 100 NATURE AND CONSEQUENCES OF IMPENITENCE. 101 language of the text refers. It bears on the case of all — that is, ofall the impeni- tent ; and I design, under the first head of discourse, to consider the nature of impeni- tence ; and, in the second place, the penal consequences of it. In the first place, we are to consider THE NATURE OF IMPENITENCE. " After thy hardness and impenitent heart;" or, " thy hard and impenitent heart." A hard heart is the same as an impenitent one, and an impenitent the same as a hard heart. Hard-heartedness in reference to religion has the same meaning as it has in reference to other concerns. When we speak of a hard-hearted man in refer- ence to his conduct to his fellow-creatures, we speak of one that has no susceptibility to impressions of pity, no feeling for the misfortunes of others — one that is not moved by the sight of another's wo ; — in short, one that is without feeling for the distresses of the human race. A hard heart in reference to religion means the same thing, only the object is changed. A heart destitute of feeling in reference to religion means a mind that has no clear views of sin, a heart that has no convic- tions, no emotions of grief on account of its transgressions in the sight of God. There are various degrees of hard-heart- edness. Some are given up to what is called total and judicial obduracy. There are no gleams of conviction in their judg- ment ; there are no emotions of grief for their transgressions in their hearts. Others are only partially hard-hearted. In this sense of the phrase they do occasionally relent ; there are moments when the mind seems to begin to perceive its awful con- dition in the sight of God, and when the heart begins in some measure to feel its dangers. But these seasons are transient, and give way to predominant indifference in reference to sin, and pardon, and eter- nal life. But perhaps we shall better understand this subject if we consider what is the nature oi penitence ; for impenitence being a negative term, we shall clearly under- stand it if we take a view of its positive nature. Penitence means, then, a clear view of our depraved nature and guilty conduct as tried by the pure and perfect law of God: not merely some general notion, taken up by education or from others, that we are not quite perfect, and that matters are not altogether with us as they should be ; but it is founded upon, and necessarily im- plies, a clear view of our sinful state as transgressors against God's laws — tha* we have broken them a thousand and a thousand times, in thought, word, and deed. Connected with this, where there is true penitence, there is a co7isciotisness that we are deservedly under the wrath of God, and the curse of that law tvhich out sins have violated. The man who is not prepared to admit that he has sinned to this extent, to such an extent as to be un der the wrath of God, condemned to die and deserving of hell — the man who is not prepared to admit his sin to this exten* is not convinced of sin, and can have no penitence on account of it. Connected with this clear view of his sinful state, and that, in consequence, he is exposed to the wrath of God, and under the condem- nation of the law — in connexion with, and in addition to this, wherever there is penitence there is alarm. The man is startled in his indifference, awakened to see his awful condition, and that, unless something be done, he must perish, and perish eternally. It is impossible the mind can be at ease, carelessly indifferent, without the emotion of fear, that is, in a state of penitence. Connected with this, there is an ingenuous disposition to confess sin to God, without extenuation, without excuse, without self-defence. There is no penitence where there is a disposition to palliate, and to think well of ourselves. On the contrary, penitence causes a man to smite on his breast, saying, " God be merciful to me a sinner !" Penitence implies grief for sin, mourning over it. And again, penitence irmpMes a disposition to forsake sin, as that which is exceedingly hateful to him by whom it is indulged. Hence you observe the meaning of the apostle's expression when he distin- guishes between sorrow and repentance : — " Godly sorrow worketh repentance that needeth not to be repented of.'* That is, where there is genuine grief for sin, it will produce an entire change of i2 102 THE BRITISH PULPIT. mind in reference to the object that grieves it ; it will produce hatred to sin, and a resolution to forsake it. And there will be no true repentance where there is not connected with it faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, as the only way by lohich sin can he forgiven. Now, my hearers, this is penitence ; and impenitence means, of course, the oppo- site to this. The man who is not con- vinced of sin — the man who is not alarmed — who does 7iot see that he is under the wrath of God, and deservedly exposed to eternal misery — who does not grieve over his sin — who does not hate and forsake it — who does not depend on the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation — such a man is im- penitent i he is hard-hearted towards God, arid every thing connected with religion. Now, there may be this impenitence, this hardness of heart, where there is much that is morally amiable in the con- duct of those to whom I am now referring. Towards their fellow-creatures there may be much genuine pity, much tenderness of spirit, much benevolence towards men, and yet not one spark of penitence in the sight of God. We have heard of many of the most lovely of their species who yet appear to be altogether in the dark with respect to their spiritual condition — who have no conviction of sin, no genuine penitence ; but are living in the most confirmed hardness of heart. Per- haps you may not see the guilt of this want of penitence — this hardness of heart ; but it really contains in itself every ag- gravation that sin admits of. There is, for instance, rebellion against the authority of God, who commands men every where to repent. There is great insult offered to God: for in proportion to the excellence of any being whom we may offend, should be the promptness of our mind to confess the offence and mourn over it. How prompt, then, should we be to hasten to the footstool of the divine throne, and confess the sins we have committed against the infinitely blessed, glorious, and holy God ! So that the man without penitence is living in a state of aggravated insult against Jehovah ; as if, though he ought to be very sorry for the very small- est offence against his fellow-creatures, and ought most solicitously to seek for- giveness, yet lie may go on offending against God, trampling under foot every one of his precepts, caring nothing about the matter ; as if Jehovah were that only being in the universe whom it should not grieve us to offend. It is a great contempt of the law (f God, that, after we have trampled it under foot, and accounted it an unholy thing — that then we should have no grief for the injury we have done it. And, moreover, a want of penitence marks a total rejection (f the whole scheme of mercy in the gospel. If we have no brokenness of heart, if we are not brought to humble ourselves in the sight of God, we are not in a state of mind that at all prepares us to receive the gospel ; we are neglecting the great salvation; and are adding to all our other sins contempt of the Son of God in his mediatorial capacity and work. My friends, you will perceive, then, that the want of penitence is a most awful crime ; it comprehends every aggravation of iniquity. The impenitent man is go- ing on, adding sin to sin ; and this is the link that binds him to an unconverted and sinful state. It is of great importance that I represent this matter, because the latter part of the subject is to state to you the punishment, the consequences that WILL FOLLOW UPON IMPENITENCE ; and, US they are very terrible, it should be mani- fest that the sin that will bring them is equally great. Now turn your attention first to the time ivhen the punishment will be infiided. And before we proceed, let me entreat you, my dear hearers, to ask yourselves the question, " Have I yet been brought by the Spirit's teaching and grace to true penitence, or am I still impenitent ? Is not my heart hardened, insensible to abid- ing impressions on religious subjects ? If so, I am the very person whose punish- ment the preacher is about to describe." Just so : you are the man — you, whoever you are, who are still destitute of "repent- ance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ." The time when this punishment will be inflicted. It is very true that the moment we die we enter into heaven or hell. I NATURE AND CONSEQUENCES OF IMPENITENCE. 103 am not quite sure that mankind consider this so frequently as they ought : they stop at the article of death. Death is the most awful catastrophe that can happen to us in this world ; hut the most awful event that can happen in this world is as no- thing compared with what is to follow. We are all just as near to heaven or hell as we are to death : if this night we die, we sink to the torments of lost souls, or rise to the felicities of redeemed ones. But neither the happiness of the righteous nor the punishment of the wicked is com- plete at death. At the morning of the resurrection the body is to be reassociated with the spirit; and then the whole man is to enter on his endless career of torment or of bliss. Observe how it is spoken of: " The day of wrath.'''' The day of judgment will be to the wicked nothing but a day of wrath ; all they see, all they hear, all they feel, all they anticipate, will be unmixed wrath. It will be to them as the deluge was to the impenitent and unbelieving in the time of Noah. They saw the foun- tains of the great deep breaking up, and the windows of heaven thrown open ; they heard the strange uproar, and felt them- selves in the midst of the wild confusion of a dissolving world, as it must have ap- peared to them ; and in every thing around them, in all they saw and heard, they be- held nothingbutaW'ful justice, fearful and indescribable vengeance. So will it be with the wicked, the impenitent, in the day of judgment : it will be a day of wrath. It is called a day of revelation .- and so it will be in every view we take of it. There will be a revelation cf God, in the wisdom of his plans, in his mercy to his people, in his justice of the punishment of the wicked. There will be a revelation of Jesus Christ. The long-agitated question will then be finally and for ever settled. There will be no question who he is : no more shall it be doubted that he is the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ. No Socinian in that day shall question his divinity : no blaspheming infidel shall deride then. He shall be revealed in power and in great glory ; and it is ex- pressly called " the day of the revelation of Jesus Christ." There shdll be at that day not only a revelation of (lod and of Jesus Christ, but there shall be a revela- tion ofvian. Millions of saints shall come out from their obscurity, and shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Millions of flaming but hypocritical pro- fessors shall stand at that day unmasked. Silent and unheeded goodness shall be brought tolight; secret and enormous wick edness shall be exposed. Oh, the deeds that shall then be brought to light ! Oh, the secrets that shall be made manifest in the day of revelation ! God grant, my hearers, that there may come out nothing in that day that shall fill you and me with dis- may ! God grant that we may have no- thing to be brought from behind the veil of secrecy which we shall blush to hear in that aw ful day ! There will be a reve- lation (f secrets then — all the secrets of men's history. Sinner, thou that art now screening thyself from public gaze, carry- ing on thy career of iniquity behind a dis- guise most dexterously wrought — that mask shall serve thee nothing in the day of revelation ; it shall be torn away, and thou shalt appear as thou art. But the text speaks particularly of one kind of revelation — the revelation (f right- eous judgment that shall come on the wiched. There will be a revelation of judgment itself. The punishment of the wrath of God is now revealed partially on the page of Scripture against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men : but it is only a partial revelation. Ah ! we must go to eternity to know the secrets of eternity. Never, Christian, will the greatness of thy felicity be revealed — never, impe- nitent sinner, never till the day of judg- ment will the greatness of thy iniquity be revealed. But this is not all : it is the revelation of r/^A/fo«s judgment ; a complete mani- festation of the justice of God in the pu- nishment of the wicked. Now we know% that terrible as the curse of the wicked will be — we know, that though there is a lake that burneth with fire and brimstone — we know, that though profane men and infidels mock at the justice of God in the punishment of the wicked — we know that God is just; and the men that mock now 104 THE BRITISH PULPIT. shall see that it is a righteous thing with God to punish sinners. There shall be no infidels in hell : there shall none go from the judgment-seat impeaching the justice of God. Every man, however terrible his sentence, will carry with the seed of his punishment, the conviction that it is not more than his transgressions deserve. It will be manifested before the world. So that, while the righteous shall be honoured before the world, while the righteous shall be exalted to glory before the universe when Christ shall come to be glorified in his saints; so shall the wicked be punished before the universe : and while men admire the power and the mercy of God in the salvation of the right- eous, they will admire — yes, sinner, they will admire — the power and the justice of that same God in thy punishment, as thou shalt sink beneath the wrath of him that dooms thee to perdition. Next, we are to consider the nature of the punishment. " After thy hardness and impenitent heart, thou treasurest up wrath." Whose wrath I If it were the wrath of an angel, or of an archangel, there would be something tremendous in it. But it is the wrath of God. Oh ! there is something in that idea more ter- rible than the imagination can compass ! Solomon tells us that the " wrath of a king is as the roaring of a lion." But what is the wrath of a king to the wrath of God] "What is the wrath of Nebu- chadnezzar, with his heated fiery furnace, seven times hotter for the Hebrew mar- tyrs that were cast in, to the wrath of God ? What is the wrath of Darius, or the counsellors of Darius, and the den of hungry roaring lions, compared to the wrath of God ] But, perhaps, it may be said that it is only a taste of his wrath — not a drinking deep of the bitter cup. The Scripture says wrath will come on the wicked to the uttermost: it will be un- mixed wrath. Now God, even in the case of the wicked, blends mercy with judgment : then mercy will retire ; the cup will be all vengeance, unsweetened by one drop of mercy. Oh ! let the impenitent consider that it is the wrath of Omnipo- tence, the wrath of Omniscience ! It will be wrath /e//, not merely threatened. Now it is threatened, and the wicked sport with the threat; but then it will be felt — wrath that shall reach the spirit. This, this will be the state of the torment of the wicked in eternity. God has access to the mind ; he can make his displeasure to be felt; he can rack the roul, he can tor- ment the spirit. W^e are told it will be wrath inflicted to manifest the greatness of the divine power in the way of punish- ment. Kings sometimes give unusual solemnity to executions, to strike terror into the hearts of their enemies, and to show what stores of vengeance are at their command. The punishment of the impenitent will show God's power in the way of wrath. It will be everlasting wrath. It is a quenchless fire, a worm that never dies. What must it be to endure the unmitigated wrath of God for a moment, for an hour, for a week, for a year, for a century, for a thousand years, for a million of ages ! But if, at that distance, there should be one gleam of hope appearing through the vista of darkness, hell would cease to be hell ; hope would spring up ; and the very idea of the termination of torment would sustain the soul under it. But oh, eternal wrath ! Everlasting vengeance ! To look through eternity, and see no resting-place under the extremity of torture ! To be obliged to cry out. How long] and to re- ceive no answer but "/or ever .'" And after millions of ages have past, and the question is again asked. How long? still to receive no answer but ^'■for ever /" Oh, my hearers, my hearers ! you know what it is in this world to have the heaviest affliction lightened by the influence of hope, the darkest scene cheered by a ray of hope. But think, I beseech you, think of a state of suffering where hope will go out, and leave you to the bitterness of despair for ever ! This wrath is said to be wrath to come, and because it is to come, sinners will not believe it ; because it is to come they think it never will come. But do take God's word ; do believe it will come. It is per- petually drawing near. It is nearer to those who are impenitent this day than it was last Sabbath-day : it will be nearer to-morrow than it is to-day. It is com- NATURE AND CONSEQUENCES OF IMPENITENCE. 105 ing : I beseech you take warning ! And then, when it does come it will be unpitied suffering. Divine compassion now stands by you ; the Saviour stands with his grace. If he was here he would be ready to drop tears of compassion over the impenitent and unbelieving. But in the day of your punishment there will be. no pity : " he will laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh." — This, then, is the punishment that shall come on the wicked and impenitent. But there is another circumstance yet to be mentioned, and that is, the propor- tion of ihe punishment. In the Hebrew Scriptures the idea of hope is set forth by treasure : we use the word generally only in reference to what we account precious; but in the Hebrew writings any thing that is accumulative is accounted treasure. Hence, we read of the treasures of wicked- ness. The expression " treasurest up wrath," seems to be put in opposition to the expression in the foregoing verse — " the riches of his goodness." What an idea I Treasures of love ! Heaps of wrath ! And you will observe, the sinner is repre- sented as the author of his own punish- ment ; there is nothing arbitrary, nothing capricious ; he is the author of it himself. The idea conveyed is this — that there is an accumulation continually going on as long as he sins. Do let me again entreat you to think of this — that whatever an impenitent man is doing, he is heaping up wrath. He may be getting wealth, but he is treasuring up wrath. He may be getting fame, but he is treasuring up wrath. He maybe formingpleasingconnexions,but he is treasuring up wrath. Every day he is adding something to the heap. Every oath the swearer utters, there is something more gone to the heap of wrath. E very lie the liar tells, there is something more gone to the treasure of wrath. Every act of uncleanness that the lewd man commits, there is something more gone to the ac- cumulation of wrath. Every day he lives in sin, the book of God's remembrance debits to his account. There is a weigh- tier treasure of wrath for the impenitent to-day, than there was yesterday ; there will be more to-morrow, if he continues impenitent, than there is to-day. When Vol. I.— 14 he lies down at night, he is richer (if I may apply the term) in vengeance in another world, than when he arose in the morning. He is continually deepening and darkening his hell ; he is continually adding to the weight of the fetters which will sink him down into the bottomless pit. It is no hyperbole, it is no forced expression, to say, that there will be mul- titudes who will lament in eternity that they had not been in hell sooner, before they had been permitted to go such lengths in sin. And then, as this propor- tion will be according to the sin commit- ted, so it will he according to the mercies abused and neglected. The rich man com- mits greater sin than the poor man, the wise than the unlearned : they sin against more light ; they abuse greater means of doing good. But of all the men with whom God will deal most severely in judgment, and in reference to whom there will be more accumulation of wrath, is the man that has lived all his days under the preaching of the gospel, and been fa- voured with religious advantages. The sins of the poor heathen are light com- pared with his ; and the punishment will be light too. Every broken Sabbath adds something to the weight of wrath ; every neglected sermon adds something to the weight of punishment; all the checks of conscience, all the remonstrances of friends, all the advice and prayers of pa- rents, will be taken into account in that day, and will all tend to increase the heap of wrath. Now, my hearers, do consider the misery that will come on the impenitent. And there is great reason to fear, to use the striking language of a distinguished American preacher — there is great reason to fear that there are many in this assem- bly, and listening to this discourse, who will be the subjects of deep misery to all eternity. Who they are, where they sit, what they may be thinking about, we do not know. They may be at ease ; they may be flattering themselves they shall escape ; that matters are safe with them ; but they are hastening on to this misera- ble state. If we knew, said he, that there was but one such soul in this assembly, what an awfiil thought ! If we could see 106 THE BRITISH PULPIT. him, what an awful sight it would be ! A man whom we knew was going to eter- nal misery, and would certainly endure it ! Well might the whole congregation set up a bitter and a lamentable cry over him. But, alas ! instead of there being only one, there are doubtless many who will remember this sermon, to all eter- nity, in hell. It would be a wonder if some of the congregation were not there before this year were out : and it would be no wonder if some, now in health and energy, were there before to-morrow morn- ing. And let the impenitent heap up as long as they may, if they continue im- penitent, they will soon be there: their damnation lingereth not; their destruction will come swiftly and perhaps suddenly upon them. Some, doubtless, that you once knew, and who were as likely to live as yourselves, and deserved perdition no more than yourselves, are already past hope : their agony is begun, their despair- ing course commenced. But you are to- night in the land of the living — in the house of God — within the reach of mercy — within the reach of hope. Oh, what would those poor, despairing, lost crea- tures give for one such opportunity of salvation as you enjoy this night ! And now, my hearers, what shall I say to you ] Reflect, I beseech you, on your condition. Disprove the fact that you are sinners, and the subject has nothing to do with you. You may go carelessly av/ay to-night : you may say, these terrors ap- ply not to me ; the thunders of the law roar harmless over me. But, I beseech you, consider that you are sinners. I do not say that any of you are profligates ; I do not say that you are immoral ; but I say that you have broken the law of God. You are sinners ; you are under the con- demnation of the law, and are in danger of perishing. Do take up that cry, " I am a lost, a miserable sinner." Then believe the threatenings of God's word denounced against sin. You must have faith — you must believe it. You must first believe the law, before you can believe the gos- pel. You must believe you are a con- demned sinner, before you can believe in Christ, as a Saviour of the lost; or you can never believe to salvation. Oh, do. then, believe the awful threatening ! Is it true, or is it not true, that God has said. " The wicked shall he turned into hell ?^^ Is it true, or is it not true, that Jesus Christ will say to the wicked, in the last day, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlast- ing fire, prepared fur the devil and his angels .^" Is it true, or is it not true, that Jesus Christ has said, " Their worm dieth not — their fire is not quenched ?" Oh, if it be true, believe it ! Turn from the profane men who would convert the threatenings of Scripture into matters of ridicule. Close your ear against the sceptic, who would throw a doubt on the reality of the threatenings of God's word. Will he not punish the wicked 1 Then why has he said if? Is there no helH Then the Bible is a fiction — Christ was an impostor, and the apostles partakers of the delusion. Is there no helH Then there is no heaven — no hereafter — no judgment-seat. I entreat you believe the threatenings. Oh, the madness, the mad- \ ness — I will not give up the term, and use a milder — the ntadness of that man that spends all the time that God's mercy has given him to flee from hell, by per- suading, or attempting to persuade, him- self there is none I I say, attempting to persuade himself, for he has not done it. Is there no trembling ] Is there no midnight voice, no spectral fear 1 Is there no palpitation of heart at the sound of the knell, or the sight of an open gravel Why tremble at death 1 Why that anxiety of mind to persuade yourself that there is no hell ? Because in spite of all thy bravado thou fearest that there is. Oh, believe that there is ! for this is the first step towards escaping it. Go home to-night believing that God is as true in his threatenings as he is true in his pro- mises. It is yet wrath to come. No fear- ful portents are in the sky ; no gloomy comet glares upon it with portentous light, from the upper regions of the at- mosphere ; no convulsive throes heave the ground beneath thy feet. There is mercy — Christ waits to be gracious — his blood cleanseth from all sin. To-night, to-night betake thyself, O sinner, to prayer ! Begin to-night — bow thy knees to-night. Thy heart is hard ; I know it * NATURE AND CONSEQUENCES OF LMPENITENCE. 107 but there is one that can soften it. Thou canst not repent ! Thou 7nusl repent ; and Christ has been exalted to his throne to give repentance as well as remission of sins. To-night, begin to-night.- trifle no longer ; come to a parley. Thou art not happy ; thou canst not be. There is conflict in thy bosom ; there are warning voices thou must hear, and checks thou must feel. Oh, come, come to the Saviour ! Except thou repent, thou wilt perish; and believing in Christ thou must be saved. But if, after this invitation, thou continuest still impenitent and un- believing, the hour is at hand, when thou wilt curse the day of thv birth — when thou wilt curse the hour in which thou didst ever hear a gospel sermon; but chief of all thou wilt curse thine own folly, under all the poignancy of remorse, for neglecting the invitations of mercy, and continuing in sin. God in mercy preserve thee from this misery, which is now as inconceivable, as when it comes it will be intolerable ! Amen. THE PULPIT GJkZ.IiZlIl'S'. NO. IV. BISHOP LATIMKR. Hugh Latimer was born in the year 1470; when fourteen years old he was sent to Cambridge — at the usual time he eat 30k took his degrees in arts, and entering into priest's orders, was remarkably zealous in defence of popery. By the influence and exertions of Mr-. Thomas Bilney who favoured the reformation, Mr. Latimer was led to examine the corrupt features of the Romish church, and at the ago of fifty-three, became a decided protestant, and was as active in supporting and propa- gating the reformed doctrine, as he was be- fore in efforts to destroy it. He, more than any other man promoted the reformation by his preaching. The straight forward honesty of his remarks, the liveliness of his illustrations, his homely wit, his racy manner, his manly freedom, the playful- ness of his temper, the simplicity of his heart, the sincerity of his understanding, gave life and vigour to his sermons when they were delivered, and render them now the most amusing productions of that age, and, to us, perhaps the most valuable. As a faithful court preacher he excelled. " Bishop Latimer, having preached a sermon before Henry VHL in which he touched on some topics displeasing to his majesty, was commanded to preach again the following Sunday, and to intro- duce an apology for the offence he had given. After naming his text, the Bishop thus commenced his sermon : — ' Hugh Latimer, dost thou know to whom thou art this day to speak 1 To tlie high and mighty monarch, the king's most excel- lent majesty, who can take away thy life if thou offendest ; therefore, take heed that thou speakest not that which may displease. But then, consider well, Hugh Latimer, dost thou not know from whence thou comest, and upon whose mes- sage thou art sent 1 Even by the Great God, who is all-present, and beholdeth all thy ways ; who is omnipotent, and able to cast both bod)/ and soul into hell together ; therefore, take heed, and deliver thy message faithfully.' " He then proceeded with the same ser- mon he had preached the preceding Sun- day, and confirmed it with redoubled energy. The sermon being ended, the court was full of expectation to know the fate of this honest, plain dealing Bishop. After the dinner the king called Latimer, and, with a stern countenance, asked him how he durst be so bold as to preach in this manner] Falling on his knees, Latimer replied, ' That his duty to his God, and to his prince, had enforced him thereunto ; that he had merely discharged his office and conscience in what he had spoken, though his life was in his majes- ty's hands.' The king raised the worthy prelate from his knees, embraced him, and exclaimed, ' Blessed be God that I have so honest a servant!' " He died at the stake, with Bishop Rid- ley, October 15, 1555. SERMON IX. THE BEGINNING, PROGRESS, AND END OF SIN, OR THE HISTORY OF TRANSGRESSION. BY THE REV. T. EAST OF BIRMINGHAM. " Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, hringeth forth death." — James i. 15. That the general state of society in this kingdom is becoming more and more alarming, is generally acknowledged. If we go among the lower or the higher or- ders ; if we associate with the young or the aged, the rich or the poor, we find our- selves approaching a considerable degree of moral corruption. Public morality is no longer a fine, vigorous, blooming tree ; but it is smitten, and its health is gradu- ally falling away. We employ our pa- rental and ministerial influence to waird off the impending evil, yet one after an- other is brought to ruin. If the course were as honourable as it is disreputable ; — if it led to peace as it does to misery ; we need not wonder at its influence on the heart. But when we consider its awful tendency, we are astonished and affected to see what it has done, and is doing, among the race of man. Those who have advanced far in this course, corrupt and corrupting, frequently attri- bute all the evil to the Author of all good. But, " let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man : but every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bring- eth forth sin j and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." In calling your attention to this subject, I propose to consider the beginning, the progress, and the end of sin, in the history and experience of the transgressor. 108 First. The beginning of sin. " The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." This is the source of all evil : from hence all evil takes its origin. Before the act can be committed, the purpose must be formed in the breast; which takes time, design, deliberation. Seduction, theft, perfidy, drunkenness, injustice, murder, the popu- lar vices of the day, require design, arrangement, decision. Lust must be conceived before the act can be per- formed. There is the seducer.' His victim is not dragged to the altar at once : — no ; — he must form a thousand artifices, he must lay innumerable plans, he must make vmv professions, &c. And " lust when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin." There is the thief.' He sees what he wants, or knows where he can get it. He forms and arranges plans with his companion. The place, the time, the circumstances are agreed upon. They go forth, and " lust when it hath con- ceived, bringeth forth sin." There is the perfidious ! The man who is in possession of all the secrets which have been committed to him by his friend, and goes about to betray him. It is true, the fear of reproach and disgrace keeps him back from his purpose for a time ; but actuated by lust he goes forth, and at once sacrifices his friend, and his own honour. Thus " lust when it hath con- ceived, bringeth forth sin." PROGRESS OF SIN. 109 Mark the drunkard! How cautiously he puts the cup to his lips! He tastes the liquor, and professes to dislike what has overcome thousands. He tastes again, — and again, — and again : — the ha- bit is established. Regardless of his own happiness, of the happiness of home, of the happiness of those he has sworn to protect, he indulges in it habitually. " Lust when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin." See the artful, ensnaring man ! How he entangles his victim till he has got his property within his grasp. And how does he act"? Alas! he who in youth would not touch any thing which was not his own, by having it in his power, wishes to possess it, and at length, ruins another, while he dishonours himself. Thus "lust when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin." Observe the murderer ! This crime is very rarely committed but after cautious plans. Here are two individuals ; sud- denly they quarrel, and the life of one is sacrificed to the other. This is dreadful ; — but it is nothing compared with delibe- rate murder. The murderer, in this case, fixes on time, on place, has the weapons in his own hands, &c. O how dreadful! The sun rises and sets as usual, but for the last time as it respects the unfortu- nate victim ! He retires, perhaps, to rest ; he hears the footsteps of one he knows not ; and, ere he can inform himself, he falls to rise no more ! " Lust when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin." Notice, Secondly. The progress which it MAKES IN ITS INFLUENCE OVER THE HEART AND CHARACTER OF MAN. All who have studied human nature with the Scripture in their hands, must confess that no man becomes suddenly wicked. God has made man naturally covet the welfare of those on whom his welfare depends. Eflforts are therefore employed to make them wise, and virtu- ous, and good. Parents who are them- selves corrupt are generally anxious that their children should be virtuous and religious. I once knew a swearer who suddenly abandoned the practice. Why ] was it because God commanded him not to swear 1 No ; — he cared not for God ! — was it because it was dishonourable? No ; — for this he cared not ! — But he heard his child swear ! he turned pale, and he abandoned the practice. If, then, there is this anxiety to make men wise and good, it is evident that evil must have its preparatory course before it can be perfected. — Let us consider, 1. The causes brought into operation to produce this. — One is The popular reading of the age. This is denominated a reading age. If we have not now many giants of litera- ture, there is yet much intelligence dif- fused throughout all classes of society. By means of the National, the Lancas- trian, and other schools, an appetite for knowledge is excited ; — and it is likely to be supplied. But, alas I alas ! the press of Britain teems with publications which are calculated to do immense mis- chief. The author is a sceptic ; — he aims to throw down the barriers of vir- tue ; — he exhibits vice in the most pleas- ing colours; he throws much wit, skill, and address, into the character of his hero. And while the young man takes it up to pass away a leisure hour, he im- bibes the scepticism it contains ; and if he does not actually rise a sceptic, he is, at least, prepared to become one. Associations, also, are a cause. As- sociations with those who have made some advances in vice. A young person who has had something like a pious education, feels respect for goodness and for good men. He regards the Sabbath, and the means of instruction ; he is often deeply and powerfully impressed by the terrors or the glories of the world to come. But let him go abroad into company, and if he be not instantaneously disgusted, as virtue would be if surrounded by the vices, — his ruin, if not sudden, is inevi- table. Relaxation is necessary after the labours of the day : evening parties are formed : some place is chosen where they may spend their time together. And what is the name of that place 1 How is it situated ] Where does it rear its head 1 Where stands its base 1 Shall we call it the tavern ! — you have hit the name And then cards are introduced ] — " Well, K 110 THE BRITISH PULPIT. sir ! and do you forbid cards ? — And would you abolish places of innocent re- sort?— Yes, sir ! I do, sir ! — As I would not let my child touch a jewel, if it had been on the finger of a man infected with the plague; so I would not suffer that which may end in an association with devils and damned spirits ! It is the fruitful source of almost every evil. The THEATRE is another cause. Though its interests are advocated by some semi- Chrisflans, and even from the pulpit of the present day. It is often said of these places, (where some Christians go before family prayer !) that they are schools to mend the genius, and exalt the heart ; — that there the vices are portrayed in all their hideous characters, and the virtues attired in all their beauty, more captivat- ing even than they appear in real life ; — that there they learn to speak elegantly and correctly, &c. Sometime ago, I called to see a mother; she was in dis- tress ; she not merely wept, but wept aloud. " What is the matter V — " O my child !" — and she wept again. " O my child is just committed to prison !" and she wept again. " O my child is just committed to prison, and I fear he will never return to his father's house !" and then she wept again ; and with all my firmness I could not forbear weeping too. I was afraid to ask the cause ; I did not need ; for she cried, " 0 that theatre ! he was a virtuous, kind youth, till that theatre proved his ruin !" — This was her testimony, and it was the testimony of the young man himself. — Now, if all persons who attend these places loved home, and respected the conjugal charac- ter, and cultivated domestic order, we might wonder at such a catastrophe. But no ; there is no domestic order, there is no morality. — It was but the other day that a bird of the air, or something else, whispered in my ear to put this question to such persons : — Do you go before prayer or after? If after, how do you frame your petitions'? — O you forget it altoge- ther that night ! — 0 tell me, young man, tell me honestly, if these things have not an influence on your heart. You once prayed, but you do not now. You once read your Bible; but you do not now. You once thought, but you do not now. Pardon me ; I sometimes mistake, even in the pulpit ; you do think ; but with what pain ! 2. Let me show how these principles ad' vatice. " When lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." No man can become suddenly wicked. At first there must be awful violence done to the conscience. When the child of religious parents first steps over the line which separates good from evil, conscience con- demns, conscience alarms : — the book is closed with disgust and thrown at the feet — companions are forsaken — and he breaks away from the charm which is about to overcome his better principles and his finer taste. Yes ! it is hard work to force himself into the circle of damna- tion. Here is conscience with its re- proaches— here is the recollection of his father's prayers, and his mother's tears — here is the appalling dream by night, and here is the waking reality of the morning — here is God — here is the devil — here is hell with all its terrors, and heaven with all its glories ! But when you have once gone into this moral contamination ; when you cast off the fear of man, no one is astonished, because previously to this you have cast off the fear of God. And when you glory in your shame ; and when you take a letter from your mother, and turning hastily to the part which informs you of the health of the family, throw it away, and say to your associates, " Well ! I have had another lecture from my mo- ther, but I have disregarded it:''^ — when you can drag yourself for half an hour to hear a minister to whom you have been accustomed, that you may hold him up to ridicule ; then — then — then let me tell you, you may sin with comparative ease ! It was difficult at the first, but now, now you may go on and take your rest. God may not awake 'to vengeance ; but the state of that individual is most alarming, of whom he has said, " Let him alone !" Conscience, let him alone! — Visions of the night, cease to scare him with your awful forms ! — Instances of goodness, charm him no more ! — Appalling effects of vice, cease to alarm him ! O yes ! you PROGRESS OF SIN. Ill may then bless the triumphs of your new notions ; you may then hail the effects of the principles you have embraced ! But believe me, believe me, there is an end coming! "When lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." Notice, therefore, Thirdly. The end of sin. " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ; for the end of that man is peace." If I were to consult my taste, and the predominant feelings of my own heart, I should proceed to describe the end of the good man : which is peace. I am not so inured to danger, as to laugh at the storm ; no, I would rather go into the calm than into the tempest; no, I would rather go into " the chamber where the good man meets his end," and " mark the upright man, whose end is peace." The apostle said on one occasion, " I am in a strait betwixt two ;" and on this occa- sion I feel perplexity. How shall I de- cide 1 Shall I proceed according to my usual custom, and having announced my plan, abide by if? — I will. " Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." First, the death of the body. Secondly, the death of the soul. Both must die : — but there will be this extraordinary peculiarity connected with the soul, that it will be dying without ever being extinct; that it will ever be living in misery, and ever under the sentence of condemnation ! " Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth," 1. The death of the body. The awful sentence denounced against sin was, " In the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." And this sentence, with two exceptions, has been executed on all that have lived. " Death has passed upon all men, for all have sinned." This sentence, indeed, stands recorded against the saints of God, as well as against the most malignant transgressor. But there is a natural tendency in sin, to hasten this end. I have lately read an account of some persons who chose to spend the Sabbath on the water. The party went out in a boat, the boat upset, and most of them perished ! O what a transition ! What an illustration of the text ! Lust conceived the idea of violating a Sabbath, sin caused the purpose to be executed, and when finished, it ended in the death of most of the party ! O how does sin subject its devotees to dreadful accidents, and to alarming diseases ! I read in my Bible, " bloody and deceitful men shall not live out half their days." The glut- ton, the intemperate, the lascivious per- son, the debauchee, all these men shorten their days. And why is this 1 Do they want to be damned before their time ? — Why] Do they wish to hasten to the judgment-seat? They sin against their own selves, becoming rotten in crime, and by awful strides they force their pas- sage to the flames. " Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." If I chose to-night to proceed, I could exhibit before you the emaciated state of the body, and the rapid influence of disease to produce this effect ; — but the time tells me that I must advance. Sin bringeth, 2. The death of the soul. And what is that? — I cannot tell. What is it for a soul to die 1 — I cannot tell. What is it for a soul to die eternally ? — I cannot tell. There are some facts, I believe, which I cannot describe : there are some truths to which I assent, that I cannot explain. One ministerial qualification I do not possess ; — I do not know, I do not want to know, I had rather sink down into the grave without knowing, how to describe the feelings of a soul as it passes from the body. I do not want to know the feelings of a condemned soul as it passes through the valley of the shadow of death. I do not want to know how a soul con- demned feels, as it enters the regions of the lost ! When a little boy, I went out with my father ; he was busily employed, and I was lost. I can remember some- thing of my emotions : I burst into tears ; I asked several persons, " Where is my father?" And I shall never forget the emotions of my mind when my eye again caught a glimpse of my father ! And why do I mention this ? Because I am not aware that I can employ an illustra- tion more natural. When you are con- demned, when you are banished from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power, you will find yourselves LOST ! But you will not be permitted the 112 THE BRITISH PULPIT. consolation of asking, " "Where is my Father?" The answer will be, "He is there, in heaven ; — he is your Judge, he has banished you, justly disdaining to admit you into his presence for ever !" — "Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." The consequences of transgression which extend themselves into the eternal world, as far exceed the powers of con- ception, as the eternal state of the happy. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nei- ther have entered into the heart of man," what God hath reserved for them that sin against him ! 1 . Allow me to make an appeal to those who are invested with parental authority. Beware, lest by connivance, and with- holding due restraint, you become access- ories to the ruin of your children. I give it as my decided opinion, that many pa- rents may trace up the ruin of their child- ren, to a lax system of domestic govern- ment. Therefore, my friends, while I would not have you become domestic tyrants, I wish you to exercise due disci- pline. And endeavour to make home your children's happiest place. Let fathers and mothers live in harmony and peace, and you will find your reward in the vir- tue, if not in the religion, of your children. 2. Let me warn the young against the danger of yielding to the first temptation. "I think, notwithstanding all that you have said to-night ; and what our venera- ble friend Mr. Wilkes says from time to time; and what the departed Hyatt so often said ; I think that I have strength enough to resist temptation. I have no doubt but I may just look at the world, and taste of its pleasures, without being overcome." Indeed ! — Then I suppose you have acted on tWs persuasion ] — Then I suppose you did it slily 1 — Then I suppose when you asked the other night to spend an hour or two with a friend, you went to Vauxhall, or to Sadler's Wells ! Well then ; let me ask you a question. Did you meet the eye of your parent as formerly ? Did you join the family circle as usual % Did you sleep as soundly as before ? Ah, my friend ! — Stop, ere thou art ruined! — Stop, ere thou art fallen lower than the lowest !— Stop at once ! — Stop instantaneously !— If sinners entice you to go where you have promised, and where you have been before ! consent not. Let them laugh as they may; go not: — yield not to be damned for compliment, "/jf sinners en- tice thee, consent thou not.^^ If you will not believe me, believe what God says, "Then WHEN lust hath conceived, it BRINGETH FORTH SIN ; AND SIN, WHEN IT IS FINISHED, BRINGETH FORTH DEATH.'* My dear, dear known or unknown friend or brother, possessing with myself a de- praved nature, exposed to snares most insinuating and destructive, let me be- seech you, when you retire from the tabernacle to-night, pray to be kept from the evil that is in the world. But besides prayer, do one thing as most effective to resist temptation, and to purify the heart ; — apply to the Lord Jesus Christ to be saved through faith in his most precious blood. Till you do this, you will strive against the power of sin in vain. Your time is gone. If I had consulted my own convenience, I should have dis- missed the congregation before. But I will trespass still longer to say, " This IS A FAITHFUL SAYING, AND WORTHY OF ALL ACCEPTATION, THAT JeSUS ChRIST CAME INTO THE WORLD TO SAVE SINNERS, EVEN THE CHIEF." Look by faith to the efficacy of his death, and then you will have a power to resist evil, while its in- fluence will cleanse you from all impure associations, and make you " partakers OF THE DIVINE NATURE." TlS.il PUZ.PIT GiLX.I.Z:RTr. NO. V. THE REV. TIMOTHY EAST, Birmingham. I love a plain serious preacher, who speaks for my sake, and not for his own ; who seeks my salvation, and not his own vain glory. Fenelon. Mr. East preaches to a respectable independent congregation at Birmingham, and also visits London every year as one of the Tabernacle preachers, where his THE PULPIT GALLERY. 113 sermons and labours are valued and ap- proved. He is the reputed author of the Evan- gelical Rambler, a series of papers so called, and which are written to enforce the practice of pure and undefiled religion. They were republished in this country, with some slight alterations, by the late venerated and pious Dr. Bedell, and have had a considerable circulation. Al- though there is not in them that depth of thought, and profound knowledge of hu- man nature, which distinguish the essays of Johnson, yet they display considera- ble power of observation, and many of the sketches of characters and scenes evince a great felicity of illustration and talent for easy narrative. As a preacher Mr. East is variable — some of his sermons are very excellent, and even eloquent ; others are said to be " flat, stale, and uninteresting." At times he gives a degree of energy to his state- ments which commands breathless atten- tion, and few men are equally successful in making a deep impression by the de- livery of a few sentences. When this is the case his voice is full and solemn, his action appropriate, and his whole manner strikingly illustrative of his zeal to win souls. ♦ Hume's account of Whitfield's preachixg. An intimate friend of the infidel Hume, asked what he thought of Mr. Whitfield's preaching; for he had listened to the latter part of one of his sermons at Edin- burgh. "He is, sir," said Mr. Hume, " the most ingenious preacher I ever heard. It is worth while to go twenty miles to hear him." He then repeated a passage towards the close of that dis- course which he heard. " After a solemn pause, he thus addressed his numerous audience: — 'The attendant angel is just about to leave the threshhold, and ascend to heaven. And shall he ascend and not bear with him the nev/s of one sinner, among all this multitude, reclaimed from the errors of his ways'?' " To give the greater effect to this ex- clamation, he stamped with his foot, lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven, and with gushing tears, cried aloud, Vol. I.— 15 ' Stop, Gabriel, stop, Gabriel ! Stop ere you enter the sacred portals, and yet carry with you the news of one sinner converted to God.' He then, in the most simple, but energetic language, described what he called a Saviour's dying love to sinful men ; so that almost the whole assembly melted into tears. This address was accompanied with such animated yet natural action, that it surpassed anything I ever saw or heard in any other preach- er." Happy for the church would it be if all its ministers were so heartily en- gaged in their work as to feel for souls as Whitfield did ! PREACH CHRIST. Our hearers need only examine how we preach Christ, to form an idea how far we are evangelical. Shall we glory in the beauty of our composition — in the flowers of rhetoric — in the force of ora- tory— in the harmony of periods — and leave the cross out as unfashionable f Thus did not Paul. — Shall we glory in the teachings — in the example of Christ — and not in the cross of Christ also ? So did not Paul. See ! he is going into Greece, the eye of the world — and what did he do ? "I determined not to know- any thing among you, but Jesus Christ, and him crucified." He is going to Rome, the imperial city — among sages, generals, poets, legislators, and states- men. Will he not there change his theme? Will he not there talk of the " Supreme being— eternal providence, — destiny," &c. ■? No. " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation, to every one that believeth, to the Jew first and also to the Gentile." And when he heard that the Galatians were about to conceal the cross, O what were his feelings \ They were about to blot the sun out of the firmament, and what would they have left but dark- ness, desolation, and death ! The cross of Christ is the grand luminary of the gospel system, from which all its parts derive light, life, and influence. All else is darkness ; and God forbid that we should glory in earth or in heaven, in life or in death, save in Christ our crucified Lord ! — Rev. Robert Newton, k2 SERMON X. PREACHED AT THE PRIMARY VISITATION OF THE BISHOP OF LONDON. BY THE REV. CHARLES WEBB LE BAS, RKCTOR OF ST. PAUl's, SHADWELL. "He taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes." — Matt. vii. 29. The first sight of the contrast here pre- sented to us might appear somewhat remarkable and strange. The scribes, it might be said, and the doctors, and the wise men of Israel, taught as having au- thority. They sat in the chair of Moses ; they seized upon the key of knowledge ; and when obscure and humble men dared, for an instant, to question their judgment, they were always ready to turn upon them and to ask, " Dost thou teach us ]" And thus, it may be thought, we too, teach with authority. A prophet could scarcely exact obedience with an air of loftier command ; nay, many a prophet was received with far less honour than these masters of Israel. Jerusalem, we know, paid implicit obedience to the ac- cents of her scribes and her doctors, but " she stoned the prophets, and slew them that were sent unto her." In order, then, to enter into the spirit of this contrast, we must remember, that if the scribes spoke as with authority, their authority was not their ow7i but bor- rowed from the great names that went before them. It belonged not to their present chair, nor to their office, but rested upon the learning or wisdom of ancient days. The school would be deaf to the words of the scribes, if they spoke not of the traditions of the fathers, and the max- ims of the sages of old. Even the light of the synagogue, the illustrious Illel himself, as we are told, might teach wisely and learnedly, but he taught wholly in vain, unless he upheld the doctrines he advanced by adding, " Thus 114 saith the tradition, I have heard it from men whose praise and whose glory are in Israel." Not so the teacher of Naza- reth. The language of the scribes was, Thus said the men of ancient days ; but the language of the son of IMary was, " Verily, verily, / say unto you ;" and men were filled with amazement, that one reared amid the care and the toil of an obscure craft, should come forth and teach them with that authority which neither scribe nor prophet had ever taken to himself; and who told them that if they did his sayings, they should build upon a rock ; and that if they did them not, they should build upon the sand, and be at the merc}^ of the tempest and the flood. When they heard these words their souls were bowed down, as it were, with the hidden majesty which might not be withstood, and the people were lost in wonder at the thought, that virtue and power should go forth from the lips of one who had never approached the schools of the wise, and of the scribes, and of the disputers of this world. At length the King of glory threw off the fashion of a servant, and ascended up on high, and sent down gifts for the un- thankful and the rebellious; and "he gave some apostles, and some prophets, and some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the perfecting of the saints ; for the work of the ministry ; for the edifying of the body of Christ." How did these fulfil their ministry? Did they call up the wisdom of former days to avouch the truth of their sayings 1 THE AUTHORITY OF CHRIST'S TEACHING. 115 Did they lean for support upon the strength of the schools or of the syna- gogue ■? Did they fly for aid to the de- crees of the doctors or of the sages, while they were delivering the oracles of hea- ven— the words of eternal life ] Did tliey not, like their divine Master, speak with authority 1 Did they not speak like men who were conscious that their au- thority was delegated to them from Christ] And what was the effect ? Why, they went forth, the people strengthening their hands, and they confounded the wisdom of man, by that simplicity and foolishness of preaching which moved the scorn of the Greek, and excited the hatred of the Jew ; but which, in truth, was the power of God and the wisdom of God. Apostles, and prophets, and evange- lists, are now no more; but pastors and teachers have always been left to the church in their several orders and degrees. In what manner have they discharged their sacred ofRce to the souls of men 1 Have they always spoken as with authority? Have they always spoken as men having less to do with flesh and blood than with the eternal and invisible Head of the uni- versal church 1 The history of the church furnishes, on the whole, a somewhat per- plexing answer to this question. For some time the church spoke with that majestic and commanding simplicity which became her celestial origin, but policy and false deceit soon conspired to make a spoil of her, and, like the first traitor, they betrayed her with a kiss. They induced her to give her glory to another than her rightful Lord, and they whispered to her that the plain word of God often spoke in a manner unworthy of the nature and the excellency of God, and that, therefore, it would tend to the divine honour if the subtlety of man werd called in to unwrap the integuments which disguised its hidden wisdom. Under this treacherous discipline she be- came at last almost too much ashamed of the simple words of eternal life to speak them with authority ; and hence it is, that if we listen to her doctrines, even before the footsteps of apostolic men were well effaced from the earth, we sometimes may be led to doubt whether Christ oi Plato were the master. Let us pass onward to darker times. The season was advancing when the splendours of truth were overshadowed by a still more disastrous eclipse ; for while Plato held and defended the empire of Christ, Aristotle, it may be said, for ages usurped the supremacy over the church. It is not my purpose to cast presumptuous disparagements on the stu- pendous labours which established and maintained the dominion of the schools (for the toil of a whole life would scarcely sufl[ice to estimate rightly and duly those prejudices of subtlety ;) but when we survey the gigantic appeals to the law which they for centuries were heaping up — when we think of the weariness and the painfulness to which they condemned the spirits of men, and when we reflect that the way of life was not so much a steep and narrow path as a dark and be- wildering labyrinth ; when We think on these things do they not force one ques- tion upon us 1 Do they not impel us to ask. Can these be the works of men who are the disciples of him that spoke with authority and not as the scribes'? Can these be the works of men devoted to the pure, serene, omnipotent wisdom that came forth from God and returned to God — of that truth which confounded the great and the wise, but proclaimed com- fort to the poor and liberty to the captive? Can these be the works of men who were followers of him that came to make a high way for our God, " wherein the way-far- ing man and the simple should not go astray V But this is not all, nor is it the worst. If Plato were seated by the side of Christ, and if Aristotle well nigh thrust him from his throne, what shall we say of him who clothed himself with the name and title of Jesus, and yet plucked out the heart of " the truth as it is in Jesus ■?" "What shall we say of him, who when God had said, " Ye shall not eat of it nor touch it, lest }'e die," dared neverthelesss to say, "Ye shall not surely die]" Think, I would beseech you, for a mcment, of the sermon on the mount, in which we have words spoken with authority ; words 116 THE BRITISH PULPIT. which mere man never spake ; words which come home to the heart, and bring it into captivity ; and then think of the mystery of iniquity which grew up into deadly strength in that fatal school whtch beguiled the souls of men from the sim- plicity that is in Christ. You will then see what it is to desert the artless style of confidence and of authority in proclaim- ing the oracles of God. You will then perceive the difference between the say- ings of one who spake to the world those things only which he heard from the Father, and the sayings of them who took counsel of the devices and of the desires of man's crafty heart. You will thus discern between the power and wisdom which binds the strong man, and which spoils him of the armour wherein he trusted, and the ignominious craft which parleys with the strong man, and which enters into stipulations with him, till he has time to collect his might, to turn upon his adversary, and to lead him cap- tive according to his will. With autho- rity from heaven the Saviour declared, that better were it to enter into life halt and maimed, than to be cast whole into hell fire. With the subtlety that became the father of lies, the disciples of Leo have told us that we may well enter into life with whole and proper limbs, and not only so, but that we may carry thither the adulterous eye, and the voluptuous heart, and the hand that worketh iniquity, and the feet that are swift to shed inno- cent blood. It was thus that they belied the Lord, and turned his troth into a lie. How did they effect this 1 How, but be- cause they were unfaithful to the majesty of the divine word, and contemned the speaking of it in simplicity and with au- thority. Hence it was that in their hands it became a medium through which the lusts of men might be accompanied with serpentile craft, and whereby they might, as it were, fall away from the grasp of God's eternal and undefiled law. Hence it was that the schools of divine wisdom were converted into secret chambers, where each man offered incense to the abominations of his heart, and learned to believe that there might be concord be- tween Christ and Belial. The time would fail were we to attempt to describe the evils that crept into the chair of learn- ing, when once a breach was made in the bulwark of authority which our preaching derives from the example and dignity of Him who taught not like the scribes. Why is it that 1 now invite you, my revered and honoured brethren, to medi- tate on the footsteps and on the dangers which have hence befallen the cause of truth 1 Why, but because it never can be unseasonable for us to call to mind the direct relationship wherein we stand to- wards God and man ; and because such recollections never can be more season- able than when we come together as a consecrated brotherhood, the ministers and stewards of the manifold mysteries of God. The occasion is one which calls upon us, with the voice of deep solemnity, to reflect that we are not the teachers of a science, but the messengers of the Lord, the ambassadors of Jesus Christ, the ser- vants of him who taught with dignity, and power, and majesty unutterable. Our commission is not to recite the words and sentences spoken by wise and thoughtful men, but to give utterance to the oracles of heaven. Theology may well indeed be called the mistress and the queen of sciences: for all the sciences are bound to do her hom- age, to bring presents unto her, to honour her with their frankincense, with their treasures, and with all their pleasant and their brightest things. All this is no- thing more than a reasonable service due from the intelligent faculties of men to- wards her, and it should be the matter of her peace and joy. But when she speaks with her own voice, it is a voice like that which proclaims " Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and good will to- wards men" — it is a voice like that which issued from the excellent glory, and pro- claimed to the world the beloved of the Father, in whom he was well pleased. Whenever this voice calls upon us it is the duty of reason to answer and to say, " Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." But it is not the business of reason to start forward in obedience to the call with an impetuous step, and to rush head ]<» ^to deirk and perilous extremities. THE AUTHORITY OF CHRIST'S TEACHING. 117 It is her province, in obeying the call, to advance with measured and sober pace, lest peradventure the same voice should again be heard to say, " Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther : for behold thus, and thus also, it is written.'''' If reason had been content thus to learn and thus to teach, what unhallowed strivings might have been spared to the church of Christ ! Had this spirit of humble and holy dog- matism prevailed, where would have been the mountain loads of controversy which have so long oppressed and buried the graces of the gospel 1 Where would have been the mysticism which trans- formed the throne of religion from the heart to the imagination ? Where would have been the insane presumption which ascended to heaven to unfold the volume of God's decrees, and to bring them down for man to read ? Where would have been the impiety which made the eternal Son of God to sit down with Confucius and Socrates 1 Where would have been the strife which for ages has distracted and divided the church of Christ? Where would have been the self-suffi- ciency which delighted in raising a circle that spread in time to a vast circumfer- ence of devouring heresy ? Where would these things have been, if the min- isters of the truth had always been con- tent simply to teach with authority what from supreme authority they had learnt. I have said that the remembrance of these things can never be unseasonable, and that it never can be more seasonable than when we are gathered together at the call of our spiritual governor and father. Why is it that we are here this day, but that as iron sharpeneth iron, so may each man sharpen the countenance of his friend and brother in the Lord — that we may renew our vows, and think of the ties and bonds that are upon us, that we may gladden him who hath the care and rule over us — that by our willing obedience we may strengthen his heart and his hands in the exercise of his sacred office — that we may listen to his voice -as to the voice of one whose functions number him among the angels of the church of Christ, whose province it is to guard from injury the church's doctrines, and to see that her ministers act fully up to the genuine dignity and spirit of their calling. Let lis then, my honoured brethren, steadfastly keep in mind, that we are ser- vants of Him that taught with authority, and that consequently our instructions in general must consist not so much of dis- quisition as of testimony. The spirit of our teaching should, indeed, be affection- ate and mild ; avoiding every thing that is dogmatical, we are to speak with that holy confidence which is derived from an en- tire simplicity of deference to the written word. We are to testify repentance to- wards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. The language of doubtful dispu- tation becomes not the prophet who is declaring the oracles of God. The lan- guage of angry controversy becomes not a sinful man when he is delivering the message of God to a fallen world ; but the language which does become him is that of steadfast and serene peroration. He is warranted to say with the apostle, " We know that we are of God, and that the whole world lieth in wickedness. And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understand- ing, that we may know him that is true." What though the winds of false doctrine should be let loose from every quarter of heaven, to fight against the honour of the church — what though a feverish thirst should come, as undoubtedly it has come, upon the intellects of men, so that many a hand shall be stretched forth to the tree of knowledge while the tree of life shall be passed by — what should these signs tell us but that we are fallen upon days when the word of authority must be uttered with no faint or languid voice? If we would have it heard by the people, it must be uttered as if it came forth from a heart in which the truth of God is en- grafted. It must sound like the rhapsody of the sanctuary inhabited by him that sitteth between the cherubim. We are accustomed to hear much of the perils that array themselves against the bul- warks of our Zion, but the sound of the warning should speak to us only of in- creased faithfulness and zeal ; and it should admonish u? not to pass round the 118 THE BRITISH PULPIT. towers of our fortification to number them with pride and indolent security. It should lead us to adorn and strengthen them, so that all who look up to them may say, " This is a city whose walls are salvation, and whose gates are praise." It is, my brethren, indeed, a cheering thought, that Christians form a royal priesthood to the whole human race, and that Christian ministers are the priest- hood to this holy generation. It is al- ways encouraging to think that Christian people are the elect of God, that the Christian clergy are the chosen of his choice, the elect of his favour. But what would all this avail if those that are in- vested with the sacred office of the min- istry were to cease to magnify that office to which they have been consecrated. How can they better magnify that office than by showing that it is an office which hath taught their own spirits to live in perpetual communion with heaven — an office which hath taught them to glory in the things that pertain to their own infir- mity, and to go forth strong and boldly, in the majesty and the power of God ! But I will cease from these words of exhortation, which it would perhaps bet- ter become me to listen to than to deliver. I stand in the presence of men who need not that we should tell them, that if the words of eternal life are to be spoken with authority, they should be uttered with lips that would seem to be touched and pervaded by the fire of the altar. I stand in the presence of men who need not to be told that nothing can so effica- ciously silence the thunders of a Boaner- ges as the slightest suspicion among the people that faintness hath come upon the spirits of his brethren and fellow workers in the Lord. You all know well that nothing can strike the tongue of authority with so dead a palsy, as the very thought of unworthiness in them to whom the power of authority is committed. You well know that the majesty of truth her- self hath not always more power than the righteousness and the sanctity of them who are called to be ministers of the truth. One moment more, and my words are ended. In order that the authority of divine truth may have something of om nipresence throughout the regions which profess to receive it, it hath been, as you know, the wisdom of ancient days, to separate these regions into portions and to districts, and to assign to each its pe- culiar and local minister. The ohjtd ot this arrangement, of course, is manifest to the whole world. It was that the spiritual wants of men might not be cur- sorily or irregularly supplied, but that the living waters of salvation might be dis- tributed through the land ; that while some portions of the household of God had the bread of life, in fulness and abun- dance, there might not be others left to perish for lack of knowledge, and to sink under a famine of the word of God. Our establishment, therefore, naturally looks with something like distrust upon a wan- dering and restless piet}' which stretches beyond the boundaries appointed for its exercise. In the estimate of our church the voice of spiritual authority can no where be heard with such effect and bless- edness as within the sphere of each man's appointed duty. It is well known to her, that something like a passion of excite- ment will secretly niingle itself with the holiest motives, and she is loath to leave the eternal interests of her children to principles which, perhaps, resemble the emanations of an electric element more than the steady influence of the solar light. It may be well for us to recall our thoughts occasionally to this wisdom, that hath marked out to each the limits of his ministerial usefulness. The pre- sent age is somewhat adverse to sobriety and order, and delighteth in the out-pour- ings of an irregular and excursive energy. The church is cautious of stretching forth her hand to sanction this method, lest, perchance, evil and confusion should be- gin it, and it should, ultimately, cause the voice of authority to fail. Where, let me ask myself, can a minister speak the words of eternal life with such dignity and power as in the place where his worth is known and his usefulness is felt. To what shall we liken the labours of one who wanders sometimes into the territo- ries of other men, but to a river which DYING REGRETS. 119 breaks tlirough its embankment, per- chance to be lost in a morass, or to waste itself in an unfruitful channel"? And to what shall we compare the practice of one who gives himself entirely to his local ministry, but to a stream that glides in peace through its own channel, whose course is marked by green pastures, by valleys filled with corn, and by trees that rise up to knowledge with the increase of God. That such may be the fruit of your labours, may god of his infinite mercy GRANT ! DYING REGRETS. Oh ! if the soul, when trembling on the verge of eternity, when the last fibre of the thread of life is parting, can only look backward with tormenting regret, and forward with more tormenting doubt and despair ! What a state for an immortal and accountable creature to feel the tor- turing conviction, that he has been trifling, or worse than trifling, all his days ; that he has thrown his life away on " vanity," and has nothing left as the result but " vexation of spirit ;" that it is too late to make provision for the world to come, and which is just opening to him in all its darkness and all its unknown terrors ; that he has finished and sealed the " senseless bargain," (oh how bitterly does he feel it to be so !) of " eternity for bubbles;" that he has bartered and damned his soul for the " pleasures of sin," and the worthless nothings of a world that has passed away from him ! It is not necessary that a man should have " seen no good," or should have had " no power to enjoy" his " riches and wealth and honour" and family, in order to his feel- ing their emptiness in his latter end, when his soul is absorbed in one grand concern, and longs for a peace and a hope which they are incapable of imparting. Even though he had derived from them through life the whole amount of pleasure which, without the influence of true religion, it is in their power to bestow ; still it is pleasure that is gone with each passing moment, and leaves the soul at last drea- rily desolate, and unprovided for the prospect which lies before it. He has " received in his lifetime his good things," and all must be left behind him ; he has lived without God, and without God he must die ; his life has been faithless, and his death must be hopeless ; he has laid up for himself treasures on earth, and there is no treasure reserved for him in heaven ; he has said to his soul, " Thou hast goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry ;" and when "his soul is required of him," he feels himself "a fool ;" he "came in with vanity," and he departs in darkness. It is the everlasting existence by which it is followed that stamps importance en the life of man. Should a man double the age of Methuselah, his life (though to us, with our narrow span of three-score years and ten, it might seem a little eter- nity) would still be vanity, if it were spent without reference to the endless duration that is beyond it. — Dr. Wardlaw. IMPORTANCE OF PRAYER. It is perhaps visionary to expect an unusual success of religions concerns, unless there are unusual omens. Now, a most emphatical spirit of prayer would be such an omen ; and the individual who should solemnly determine to try its last possible efficacy, might probably find himself becoming a much more prevail- ing agent in his little sphere ; and, if the whole, or the greater number of the disci- ples of Christianity were, with an earnest, unalterable resolution of each, to combine that heaven should not withhold one sin- gle influence, which the very utmost efforts of conspiring and persevering supplication would obtain, it would be a sign that the revolution of the world was at hand. — Foster. SERMON XI. CHRIST THE LIFE OF HIS PEOPLE. BY THE REV. JABEZ BUNTING, D. D. Christ, our life. — Col. iii. 4. "What think ye of Christ 1" was a question once addressed by our Saviour to the unbelieving Jews, who vainly at- tempted to entangle him in his talk. By examining Avhat answer wc can in sin- cerity and truth return to this question, we might at once ascertain the soundness of our principles, the rectitude of our con- duct, the safety of our souls. The an- swer which we ought to return is con- tained in the text. We ought to say, " Christ is our life.'''' Any thing in our principles, or experience, or conduct, which contradicts this grand principle is so far dangerous. There are many scrip- tures which go to prove the vitality which subsists between Christ and all Chris- tians. Sometimes, to represent the near- ness of this union, it is illustrated by that which subsists between the vine and the branches, and then we learn that Chris- tians are grafted into Christ, and so enabled to bear fruit to him. Sometimes the figure of a foundation is employed — the foundation which God has laid in Zion ; and then his people are represented as living stones, consecrated unto God by him, and then growing up into a holy temple in the Lord. Sometimes Christ is spoken of as the head, and then Chris- tians are instructed that " They life and strength from him derive, And by him move, and in him live." But in the text this doctrine is stated in terms yet more emphatic. " Christ is" — what? Everything. You cannot be Christians, you can perform none of its duties, enjoy none of its recompenses, but in proportion as " Christ is your life.'''' 120 It is not said merely that he lives in us or that we live hy him or through him ; but to make the subject more instructive and emphatic, the apostle says, " Christ IS OUR LIFE." Let us apply this senti- ment, First, To THE RELATIVE LIFE OF THE Christian — his life oi pardon and justifi- cation. We are all naturally dead in law, that is, our natural state is that of guilt and transgression, one in which the law has already pronounced us dead. For, as the body without the soul is dead, so the soul that is destitute of the life and favour of God, is spiritually dead — dead to all the purj)oses_Jor which it was made. Tliis sentence the law pronounces against all sinners. If this is our state, we are as good as dead ; we are doomed to death, and there remains only the execution of the sentence to complete our misery. In this state Christ finds us all, and under- takes to become " our life.^^ When the soul is truly awakened, the first inquiry is, " What must I do to be saved V One of the most important inquiries which can possibly be presented is, " How shall man be just with God V The Scripture simply and plainly says, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." It tells us, that he "himself bare our sins in his own body on the tree ;" that " all we like sheep had gone astray," but that the Lord laid on him, Christ, " the iniquities of us all." And there was such infinite merit in his obedi- ence unto the death of the cross, that God, though just, is ready to become a Saviour. It is not hy loorks of law that we are thus saved, restored ; to render this possible, CHRIST THE UFE OF HIS PEOPLE. 121 the law would require absolute, perfect, unbroken obedience. Nor is it merely by repentance that we are restored to fa- vour. Repentance, indeed, is highly be- coming our situation. It is quite proper that sinners should be sensible of the enormity of their conduct, and that they should confess and forsake it fully and for ever ; but repentance cannot atone for sin ; the atonement is to be found in the sacri- fice of Christ, and that alone. In order that we may be justified, this atonement must be laid hold on, and it is thus laid hold on by faith. We are justified, how- ever, by faith only insfrumentally ; by Christ Jesus, meritoriously ,• because he is the object on which our faith relies. It is remarkable how strong the Scriptures are on this point : whatever view they take of the blessing itself, they always re- cognise Jesus Christ as the author of the blessing; they always direct us to Jesus Christ as the mediator through whom the blessing flows. Sometimes this blessing is spoken of as a release from the curse of the law ; and then we are told, that " Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us ;" for it is written, " Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." Sometimes it is spoken of as including deliverance from wrath, and then they are careful to tell us that it is " Jesus who delivereth us from the wrath to come.^' Sometimes it is represented as the remis- six)n of a penalty incurred, and then they say, " Without shedding of blood there is no remission ;" but " Christ shed his blood as a remission for the sins of many," They sometimes speak of this blessing under the notion of acceptance into the favour and family of God ; but they are sure to tell us that we are accepted thus in Christ the beloved. They speak of it as an admission to a state of security in opposition to a state of danger; but they represent this as enjoyed only by fleeing for refuge, to lay hold on Christ, the hope set before them in the gospel. Thus, whatever view they give us of this grand blessing, we perceive that they never over- look this truth, that Christ is the source of all. Thus Christ is our relative life. But we apply the sentiment, Vol. I.— 16 Secondly, To the Christian's actual LIFE OF SANCTIFICATION AND HOLINESS. For our death by sin is not only a death in law, but a true and proper alienation from him who is the life of all his intelli- gent creatures. Sin has not only exposed us to future misery : the dreadful punish- ment is already begun — the present state is deeply affected by it. Though we are not shut out from all hope, yet we are shut out from actual communion with God, and so from holiness. There must, therefore, be a restoration to purity ; for this, also, we are indebted to Christ : his death is the cause of our sanctification : Jesus Christ gave himself for us that he might have a right to purify us. We were Satan's lawful captives ; for we had sold ourselves to him ; and till Christ bought us out, we were not properly res- cued from his dominion. The death of Christ is the power by which he sets us free; and, as his death is the cause, so his Spirit is the age7it ; and he is emphati- cally called the Spirit of Holiness. His word is the instrument of our sanctifica- tion— " I am made clean by thy woriV — " Of his own will begat he us with the word of truth,'''' The purit)' of Christ is the model and rule of our sanctification. He is the great pattern to which we are to be conformed. The Holy Spirit works according to this great exemplar. He sets before him the purity of the Saviour ; and his aim, so to speak, is to make us like Christ ; that as he was, so we may be in the world, and that we may be able to walk as he also walked. O what a high and glorious calling is the Chris- tian's I How much more sublime than the standard which the men of the world generally propose ! We are purified in proportion as we believe in Jesus Christ ; not by poring over our own corruptions — not by con- templating our own weakness, but by looking unto Jesus; by depending upon him to restore us to his own image — to prepare us for his service upon earth — to fit us for his glory in heaven. But Jesus Christ is the life of our sanc- tification, not only as it respects the way by which we are made holy, but as it re- spects holiness in the detail. He is the 122 THE BRITISH PULPIT. life of all Christian graces — of all Chris- tian duties — of all Christian ordinances. 1. Jesus Christ is the life of all Christian graces. These all proceed from Christ, and tend to Christ, and determine on Christ. They have all a value in propor- tion as they are connected with Christ, and bring us, at every turn, into contact with Christ. Faith — Christ is the life ')f this grace. How can it possibly exist, if it have not Christ to rest on 1 Faith cannot rest on peaceful or joyous feelings — on regular and consistent conduct ; these are all the fruits of faith, not the founda- tion. Faith gives life to good works — to holy tempers — to joyful affections; but Christ must first be the life of faith ; then, and then only, faith gives energy to all the fruits of faith. Faith is called look- ing to an object; the object of faith is Christ, Faith is called the reception of a gift; that gift is Christ, and with him all good. Hope — Christ is the life of hope. If we have hope, it is because we are quickened together with him. Our anchor is cast within the veil, and it is both sure and steadfast; but if Jesus, our forerunner, had not entered there first for us, all attempts to cast our anchor there had been altogether in vain. Lovk — Jesus Christ is the object of supreme re- gard to every genuine Christian ; so it has been in all ages, however dirn the light the individuals may have enjoyed. Yet, in proportion to the degree of knowledge which they possessed, they rejoiced in Christ. Simeon, when he embraced the Saviour, seemed to be fully satisfied with life ; he had no remaining wish as to this world, and he said, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, accord- ing to thy word ; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Paul, you well know, counted all things but loss for Christ; and was ready to suflfer the loss of all things, if he might but win Christ, in winning whom he thought he had won all. Christ was the life and soul of the joy of these ancient saints. 2. Jesus Christ is the life of all Chris- tian duties. This is another important branch of practical godliness. But where will you find these duties attended to, spite of all the temptations and allure- ments of the world, the flesh, and the devil, where Christ is not the life of the soul? Christians are said to "walk in newness of life ;" and this new life deve- lopes itself in all the various acts of god- liness. In this new life and walk is included the right management of the thoughts and tempers — the proper govern- ment of the discourse — due conduct to- wards God and man. Are Christians in any degree what they ought to be? It is because they are made like Jesus Christ. Is the Christian's conversalion holy, and does it minister any portion of benefit to those who hear him 1 It is because there is so much of Jesus Christ in it, — in what he is — in what he has done — in what he has suffered — in what he waits to do — and what he expects in gratitude to be done to and for him. Are the actions of the Christian holy ] They are so in virtue of the power of Christ resting upon him. Christ is his life and strength ; hence, all he does is directed to the glory of Christ. 3. Jesus Christ is the life of Christian ordinances. Christian graces will not be maintained with vigour — Christian duties will not be performed with regularity, if we do not continue to implore and enjoy the divine influence, through the medium of the various means of grace. Of all these ordinances, Christ is the life. They would be all wells without water, if he were not conveyed through them in his spiritual and comforting influences. What are sacraments, if Christ be not the life of them ? If people are content with the outward sign, and do not seek after the thing signified, they may become the means of spiritual delusion and eternal ruin. What is Baptism, but a figurative representation of our moral pollution — an ordinance which brings to our very eyes this truth, that unless Christ wash us, we can have no spiritual part in him — a rite, by the observance of which, we put in our claim to be acknowledged by him, and to rejoice in the blessings of his love 1 What is the Sacrament of the Lordh Sup- per without Christ? It derives all its significance and interest from its bring- ing us into the presence-chamber of Christ, and what is it but the communion, of his body and blood] CHRIST THE LIFE OF HIS PEOPLE. 123 What are prayers without Christ? Is not he the chief object of the Christian's supplication, that we may be more like him — that we may have a deeper interest in him 1 Jesus Christ is the Great High- priest, " having- the golden censer," to whom there is given " much incense, that he should offer it with the prayers of all saints, upon the golden altar which is before the throne." What are thanksgivings without Christ ] Offerings which God will re- ject, as he rejected the sacrifice of Cain. Cain presented a thank-offering ; but it was accompanied by no recognition of a Saviour — there was no blood-shedding ; therefore, it was rejected. Cain's was the religion of nature, about which some persons make such a mighty fuss ! But God rejected it. If sin be not confessed, if forgiveness and purity be not suppli- cated, the religion of nature is an abomi- nation in the sight of God ! The religion of sinners, the way of salvation through Christ, is the only religion that suits us. Our praises and thanksgivings will never be accepted, but as they are presented in and through Christ. And what is preaching without Christ 1 Indeed, it is not the gospel that is preached ; it is not good news, if Christ be not the subject of it. He is the princi- pal theme of all evangelical ministrations — " We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus, the Lord" — we declare " the un- searchable riches of Christ." There may be a great difference as to the form in which these truths are presented ; yet Christ must ever be the centre in which all the lines of truth meet. If we preach ,the law, it is to show you your need of Christ; for" by the deeds of the law shall no flesh living be justified." If we preach the torments of hell, it is to induce you to make haste to Christ, lest those torments overtake you. If we preach the joys of heaven, it is to encourage you to come to Christ, that he may give you a title and a meetness for those joys. If we preach faith, it is a faith of which Christ is the object, the author, and the perfecter. If we preach repentance, it is that you may go to Christ, whom " God hath exalted as a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins." If we preach morality or holi7iess, the grand elementary principle is love to Christ. " Talk they of morals ? — O thou bleeding love ! The grand morality is love to Thee !" But it is not merely because he is the principal subject of preaching which makes preaching nothing without him, but because the very commission to preach, is derived immediately from him. He said originally, and he still continues to say, " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." To every true minister of the gospel it may be said, as it was to the first apostles, " Ye have not chosen me" — as some men choose physic, and others law, and others philosophy, and others trade — all this is quite out of place when applied to the kingdom of Christ, in which Christ claims to be actual and absolute king — " Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain." From Christ is derived also the poxver to exercise the ministry with fruitfulness and effect. And this is another reason why preaching is nothing without him. From him is derived all that unction which at any time accompanies our mi- nistrations. As the clouds from which the rain descends have not that rain in themselves, but derive it from the sea and various moist places of the earth, and having thus received, are able to disperse abroad ; so all the efficacy of the gospel which is preached, is derived from Jesus Christ, who is the overflowing fountain of all that is good and holy. But, " Christ is our life." Thirdly, As it respects the promised resurrection and glorification of the bodv, and the final exaltation of the bodies and souls of HIS PEOPLE TO END- LESS blessedness. Even when Christ has become our life relatively, as it re- spects our justification, and our life really, as it respects our sanctification, it is still an awful fact, that " the body is dead be- cause of sin." Though when the soul is restored to spiritual life, the body becomes a temple of the Holy Ghost, it is nevet" theless dead ; and, so far, remains for a 124 THE BRITISH PULPIT. time under the divine displeasure, on ac- count of sin. This is God's badge, which he has attached to transgression. He who carries a body about with him, carries about with him a proof that the Lord is righteous, and that he will not let sin go unpunished. " The body is dead," at present, "because of sin;" but that same body has the assurance of life here- after : for it is to the whole man that the promise of eternal life is made. Jesus Christ has promised that he will restore it to vigour and immortal youth. Christ Is the author of this life, 1. As his power is the agent to effect this. He himself will perform this miracle ,• for it is a miracle. It is not because there remains in the body some latent principle of life to be wrought upon ; Scripture con- tradicts this philosophic notion. They tell us plainly, that it will be a miracle — a miracle resembling that of the resurrec- tion of Christ himself. Now, if the re- surrection of Christ was a mere vegetative resurrection, Christ was not really dead, and his resurrection is no proof of his divinity. In order to prove the divinity of that operation, we must admit his real and absolute death. When the soul is separated from the body, no life remains; and no life will ever come into it, but what Christ puts into it — " who shall change our vile body, according to the working whereby he is able even to sub- due all things unto himself." There is, therefore, no latent principle of life to as- sist the operation ; it is the effect of Al- mighty power, and that power put forth by Christ. 2. Because his raised and glorified body will be the model to which the bodies of his people will be conformed. " He will change our vile bodies, and fashion them like unto his own glorious body." 3. Inasmuch as his appearance the second time in the clouds with glory will be the signal for our resurrection. He will appear again in power and great glory, and at this his coming lue shall live ; we shall then all be summoned from our dusty-beds, " meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we be for ever with the Lord." In assurance of hope, We to Jesus look up, Till his banner, unfurl'd in the air, From our graves we shall see, And cry out, " It is he I" And fly up to acknowledge him there. Further — In reference to that eternai glory to luhich we shall finally be exalted — Christ is the life of this also. He is " the Lord of heaven.'^ " All power is given to him in heaven" — " Angels and princi- palities are made subject to him" — "he has the keys of death and of hades" — " he both died and rose again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living." As the king of heaven it is his prerogative to admit others into that world. Hence we find that the dying Stephen said, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." There was no admission even for a dying martyr into heaven but through Jesus Christ. Christ must for- mally agree to the admission of his peo- ple before that admission can take place. // is his to assign to each of his saints their proper place and occupation in heaven. " In my Father's house are many man- sions : 1 go to prepare a place for you." From this it is clear that the kingdom cff Christ extends to heaven; and all that is connected with the bliss and glory of heaven will be dispensed by him. His presence mainly constitutes the bliss of heaven. It is by him, and through him, that all the glory of heaven is made known. All the saints will shine by a reflection of his glory : their union to Christ will be the instrument of their realizing the promised bliss ; and it is through this medium alone that they can enjoy the vision of God. Paul knew this ;. hence he said, " I have a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better." To be by Christ in heaven he esteemed to be far better than to be in Christ on earth, even under the most favourable circum- stances. We have good reason to think that the degrees of heavenly glory will be regulated by the degrees of nearness and intimacy to Christ to which we may have been pre- viously exalted. It is true, that on this subject the Scriptures speak but little; CHRIST THE LIFE OF HIS PEOPLE. 125 more by hints than in detail. But this much we may learn, that there will be degrees in glory — " One star differeth from another star in glory ; so also is the resurrection of the dead." The saints, we are told, will be made like angels, and amongst these we know there are degrees ; we read of "thrones, dominions, princi- palities, and powers." There is a supe- riority, and of course there is also a rela- tive inferiority. The chimerical equality for which some so foolishly and zealously contend, in the world and in the church, has no place even in heaven. We may reasonably infer, that in proportion as we are like Christ, and near to him, we shall shine. All the stars of heaven shall shine with great lustre, but those will shine the most brightly who most resem- ble Christ, and who are most near to him who is the Sun of righteousness. Thus have we illustrated and proved this great gospel axiom, that Christ is the life of his people. 1 . This subject addresses itself most pow- erfully to the hearers of the gospel. We learn from it what is the design of the various exhibitions of Christ in the preaching of the gospel. Christ is preached, to the end that he may be your life. Preachers labour in vain, hearers listen in vain, if there be no communica- tion of life. When a man of common understanding listens to a plain, faithful preacher, if he be not grossly inattentive, he must derive some light; his under- standing must be informed. But this ac- cession of knowledge does by no means answer the end of preaching. This ordi- nance is not intended to make you perfect theologians. You may be able to defend every article of the Christian faith; there may not be a speck in your orthodoxy, and yet the great end of preaching remains unaccomplished; for Christ is life as well as light. What effect has been produced by your former hearing ] Has Christ be- come your life ] Is the sentence of death reversed, or does the wrath of God still abide upon you, because you have not fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before you? And has Christ become your real as well as your relative life ? Do you rejoice in purity of heart ] and are you following Christ in the way of holi- ness *? 01) ! if Christ be only your light and not your Ife, you have hoard and read in vain. The first thing you have to do is to come to God, and confess your wicked waste of former opportunities ; you must obtain pardon for the past, be- fore you can hope for future good. There are many who go to hell after hearing the gospel for years. It were better to go to hell from the grossest darkness of pagan- ism, than thus turn your knowledge to no account! This hearing, this knowledge is a talent which you are required to oc- cupy. If you neglect to improve this light, or if you resist it by the indulgence of worldly tempers, or vain and foolish conversation and conduct, it will greatly aggravate your doom that you have had light. Wo unto them who have the key of knowledge, and do not use it to open the door of truth ! There are many among all our congregations, who, when the gos- pel is put into their hands, that they may open the door to pardon and salvation, turn the key the wrong way, and actually lock themselves out. What madness can equal this ? To hear the word of life, and run on to death, without pardon, without any effort to obtain salvation ! O ! be careful not to make this perverted use of the gospel ! Let not that bring you down to hell which was designed to raise you to heaven and holiness. So it will he if you do not connect faith with your hear- ing, and if obedience do not prove the sin- cerity of your faith. 2. To earnest shekers of salvation this subject affords much encouragement. When you think of your numerous wants, you feel shocked, and are ready to say, " I want — alas ! what want I not ?" You want pardon — you want purity — you want strength — you want a lively hope of glory — ami all this is in Christ. Secure Christ for your life, and you will have all. And Christ is every sinner's right; Christ is God's gift lo the world — the world which was the object of his pity, shared the effects of his pity. Chris* is therefore every sinner^s right ,• and if you receiva him, you have all that cao l2 126 THE BRITISH PULPIT. conduce to your present safety and eter- nal life. Be careful that you use Christ for all the purposes for which he is offered to you. 3. Let Chrisiians learn a lesson from this subject. Be grateful. You see how much you owe to him ; you cannot be Christians without him. He gave you life, but he gave it you at a great cost ! It is by his stripes that you are healed — he died that you might live. O what thanks then are due to him. " Too much to thee I cannot give, Too much I cannot do for thee , Let all thy love and all thy grief Grav'n on my heart for ever be !" Be consistent as well as grateful. Live to Christ. " Glorify him in your bodies and in your spirits which are his. You must identify yourselves with all that belongs to him ; his cause must be yours, his people yours. You are re- quired, as Christians, not only to live to Christ, but to live like him, to live the life of Christ. We do not sufficiently consider the height of our calling ; we are not careful to live up to the standard. As Christians, we ought to live the life of Christ over again : the removal of his bodily presence was no doubt a great loss to the world ; but mark how the gospel repairs this loss. Christians are to be made like Christ, that they may be his substitutes, and become to the world what he would be were he still upon earth. We are called to be his visible represen- tatives; every Christian is a sort of Christ, resembling him, going about doing good, strengthening the weak and defenceless ; bearing testimony meekly and mildly against evil, doing good in every possible way. Then will it be seen that Christ is indeed our life. Let us set about this work immediately in our families and in our neighbourhoods, with more prayer than we have ever yet done, and there- fore with more success. Be useful. You may have to contend with difficulties, to encounter enemies, to make struggles, but you shall be ulti- mately successful. May God grant you this grace. DUTIES TO THE AFFLICTED. In the discharge of parochial duties the sick and afflicted will have the strong- est claims upon your time and attention. Let these claims always be held sacred. Wait not to be sent for. Hasten to tliem as soon as you know that they are in dis- tress. And while on your way to the sick chamber, or the house of mourning, lift up your soul in prayer to God, that he will put thoughts into your heart, and words into your mouth ; that he will ena- ble you to be faithful, and bless your visit. If the sickness be severe, let your remarks be few and direct, and your prayers com- monly short; but let your calls be fre- quent. When there is imminent danger in the case, study not to conceal it; but urge upon the sick man the infinite im- portance of immediate preparation for death. If it is one of the sheep, or one of the lambs of Christ's flock, who is about to be called home, and is rejoicing in the prospect ; talk of heaven, of delive- rance from sin, of the excellence of Christ, of the glory of God, and of the songs of the redeemed. If it is the dying bed of an impenitent sinner to Avhich you are called, and he is stupid ; O, if it be possible, sound a note of alarm so deep, that it shall awake his slumbering conscience ; and at the same time so affectionate, that he shall thank and love you for your faithfulness. Hold no fellowship with that cruel affection wnich conceals from a dying friend his danger, or which cries, " Peace, when there is no peace." If the dying sinner is alarmed, and his transgressions are at least set in order before him, beware that you do not comfort him too soon. Many, I fear, have been destroyed in this way. The law was doing its work, and would have brought them to the cross of Christ, but for the pains which were prematurely taken to convince them that their sins were forgiven, and that all was safe. Re- joice in it, if you have good evidence that a sinner has been plucked as a brand from the burning at the very close of life ; but in your preaching and conversation lay very little stress upon a death-bed repent- ance.— Dr. Humphreys, SERMON XII. RESIGNATION TO THE DIVINE WILL. OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OP THE LATE REV. R. HALL, D.D., PREACHED AT BROADMEAD CHAPEL, BRISTOL, MARCH 6, 1831. BY THE REV. J. HUGHES, OF BATTERSEA. " All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." — Job xiv. 14. We are assembled on an occasion of no ordinary interest. Mortality, through the whole of its vast range, has not of late, furnished a more affecting monument, than that which we are now invited, urged, and, indeed, compelled, to contem- plate. May God inspire us with appro- priate feelings ! A voice from the sepul- chre, and from heaven, bespeaks profound attention, and, in accordance with it, several impressive views, opening before a reflecting mind, call for deep solemnity, prostrate submission, tender condolence, warm congratulations, and fervent prayer. Many more things are recommended by that interesting, sublime, and pathetic voice — especially a renewed concern for our own and others' spiritual safety and welfare. If these be duly cherished, the gifted and estimable friend, who lived not in vain, will not have died in vain ; but we shall, one after another, be prompted, at least in a personal reference, to say — though weeping — " I would ye should understand, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fall- en out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel." Assuredly such is the holy and merci- ful design of God in the stroke so recently inflicted here. Oh, that it may be accom- plished, in respect to us, to you all, my esteemed hearers, and to the cause of God in general ! As the result of that stroke, a task has devolved on me, honourable indeed, bu* far too arduous for my mental strength, on which it presses. I speak not this from false humility, or with the mean and worthless hope of securing a courte- ous contradiction ; I speak as a man claiming no superior eminent talents, or Christian worth, is bound to speak. The fact is, I could not, without making an ungracious sacrifice, turn away from a request preferred by the bereaved family, and supported by the representatives of the bereaved congregation. In addition to this circumstance, looking back more than six and forty years, I cannot lightly reverence, as his fellow pupil, what our departed friend was in the sanctuary, and in the seminary, even at that early period of his splendid course. Nor can I ad- vert without emotion to a subsequent period, during which it was my lot to occupy, with an incompetency quite hu miliating, the very same department of labour and responsibility. It may also be added that the distinguished indi vidual, whose removal we deplore, never failed to indulge me with a prompt and most cordial reception. By these and similar considerations my reluctance on other grounds to appear officially before you this morning has been, though not altogether destroyed, yet materially diminished. Instead, 127 128 THE BRITISH PULPIT. therefore, of dwelling on conscious ina- bility, I will proceed in the present ser- vice, assured that you will exercise can- dour, and be anxious to enjoy the divine approval and blessing. As to the portrait- ure which it were unavailing- to require of me, I would not easily resign the hope that it will be delineated by the pencil of some accomplished master. There is an ambition which is not only lawful, but is encouraged by that sacred Spirit, who at the same time, would have us to recollect these words : " Be clothed with humility ; for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble." Fain would I, particularly at this in- teresting hour, be inspired with an ambi- tion to do good : and, if that heaven-born principle predominate within me, then shall I accost my fellow mourners in a right spirit ; and He, who alone can in- fuse it, will, I doubt not, prosper my effort, and so award me a prize, in com- parison with which the plaudits earned by literature, philosophy, and eloquence, are but as sounding brass and as a tink- ling cymbal. Alas ! those plaudits are always dangerous, and often fatal. Death — preceded by intense pain, the silent, solitary, perhaps needful, monitor of the deceased, with slight intermissions, from his youth to more than mature age — death has at length been commissioned to despoil your circle, my brethren, of a costly victim, who sunk under the blows of that ruthless assailant, wliose flesh has in consequence seen corruption, and whose form we shall never, while so- journing here, behold again. If a man die, shall he live again 1 — shall he not utterly perish, and become an eternal desolation*? What a relief must it be to entertain an opposite view of the case — to feel assured that this wreck, so far from being total and irreme- diable, can, in no degree involve, as it regards a servant of God, the unspeaka- bly more glorious part of his compound and marvellous nature which we denomi- nate the soul. The relief would in anti- cipation, be complete had we equal authority to believe that the body also shall live again, and share with the soul its felicitous immortality. He who avows indifference to such a prospect must surely be pronounced either a hypocrite, an idiot, or a monster. Yet, in this field of inquiry, where may we expect to reap satisfaction'? Pagans have toiled here with laudable diligence and solicilude, being scarcely less anxious to kindle a few sparks of hope into a bright and steady flame than our modern sons of darkness are to witness and promote their extinction. How superior in the contrast do we necessarily account a Socrates, a Plato, a Cicero, and a Seneca! Still these sages could only reason well. They ascended not above the regions of happy conjecture and high probability. All the certainty of our existence in an- other world must be gathered not from argument, but from infurmation ; and that information none, except " the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity," can impart. He, however, in language more or less full and distinct, has spoken of invisible and lasting realities. In mak- ing a transition especially from the Old Testament to the New, the subject is exhibited with so much additional clear- ness that — as if all the previous discove- ries had been mere varieties of shade — we are taught by an apostle to say, " Life and immortality are brought to light by the gospel.^'' The great question, " If a man die, shall he live again T" may, I trust, be now numbered among questions which have received a satisfactory answer. Such a» admission is sure to be made by all who consider the Bible to be a communication from the supreme Being : — with others, I enter this day into no discussion. It remains for me to illustrate the words first read, and then to remind you afresh, and more specifically, of the dispensation which has brought hither so immense a multitude, and will elsewhere rivet the sadder minds of so many aflTectionate hearers. " All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." So spake Job, a man whose excellency and affection were alike proverbial. He spake as it becomes us to speak. Let us, with the evangelical economy before our eyes, expatiate on his determination, and adopt it too. RESIGNATION TO THE DIVINE WILL. 129 What, thon, is the nature, and what the due influence, my fellow Christians, of our prospect as thus referred to ■? " All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." I. We have the prospect of a CHANGE. Many changes are incidental to human beings, but there are three which stand out with prominence above the rest. One extraordinary change occurs when human beings become rational. During infancy they are conscious of sensation, but unconscious of reflection. Hence, at that period, they say nothing — they learn nothing; they neither hear nor transgress any commandment; they are not in a state of probation. Gradually, however, and in a manner which entirely eludes our notice, the thinking faculty, and all the passions, develope themselves. Child- ren listen to sounds, articulate, and con- verse. Young persons read, write, and learn a language or an art. A little after- wards they go into business ; they provide for their families ; some being condemned to the meanest drudgery, and some, like him whom you once delighted to call your minister, shining in the annals of fame, the admiration of the age and the country which they contributed to adorn. Let it not be forgotten, my hearers, that, as reason strengthens, all persons become more and more amenable both to God and to man. A change more momentous occurs when human beings become religious. This change is requisite for those, uni- versally, who have not already experi- enced it. Its necessity arises from the hereditary contagion which corrupts the race and taints us all — whether we have rendered ourselves obnoxious to our ac- quaintances, or have conciliated their good will and affection — whether we have been profligate or moral — whether we have neglected sacred ordinances or outwardly observed them. We are as- sured, by an inspired writer, that " if any man be in Christ Jesus he is a new crea- ture; old things are passed away and behold all things have become new." What says Christ himself? " Except a man be born again he cannot see the, Vol. I.— 17 kingdom of God." How sharp the con- flicts, and pungent the sorrows — how rich and diffusive the heavenly light — how im- portunate the supplications — how strong the purposes — how rich the comforts- how warm the gratitude — how exemplary the whole character, when, under the re- generating agency of the Holy Ghost, fallen creatures justly reckon themselves to be "dead, indeed, unto sin, but alive unto God, through our Lord Jesus Christ :" " being born again, not of cor- ruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever !" After all, the great consummation is reserved for the time when human beings become immortal — the subjects of a change of which the being made first ra- tional, and then religious, are but the in- dispensable preparatories. " This cor- ruption (my Christian brethren) must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." Then will the term of our minority expire, and M'e shall receive our best inheritance. Then shall Ave go to another world, and have joyful com- munion with exalted spirits, thus far invisible. The garden of Eden never offered such beauty to the eye, such mu- sic to the ear, or such fruit to the taste, as will delight the inhabitants of those more glorious regions. They are " be- fore the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple : and he that sit- teth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, nei- ther thirst any more : neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." They who ascend from the earth, thither, are transformed as well as translated. No residue of sin cleaves to them in their wonders of delight. Hence it is written, " They are without fault before the throne of God." And, again, " Christ loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word : that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, or 130 THE BRITISH PULPIT. any such thing- ; but that it should be holy and without blemisli." Is it, however, merely the soul of a believer in Jesus Christ that enters the kingdom 1 Must its ancient partner — the body, lie always in the dust, or roam in a separate and less splendid province of the divine empire'? No, for the apostle, foretelling its resurrection says, " It shall be raised in poAver;" and, using an epi- thet never before applied to that sub- stance, and even now inapplicable among mortals, he calls the body that shall be 60 raised, " Aspiritual body." I close this statement, relative to the change which the body is to undergo, with another quo- tation from the same apostle, " Our con- versation is in heaven ; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself." II. Let me describe the influence of THIS PROSPECT — the influence which it ought to have on every spectator — the influence which it had on the patriarch, who said, " All the days of my ap- pointed time will I wait, till my change come." 1. The prospect of our change may he viewed in connexion with the general cur- rent of our thoughts. Job reckoned on a great change, the result not of accident or of a creature's energy, but of a divine declaration. He believed that the time for its taking place, as well as the change itself, was appoint- ed, and the interests dependent upon it were, in his apprehension, so numerous and vast, that he appears to have been tenacious of the theme, as one which he was scarcely willing to dismiss for a single moment. Accordingly, he in- tended in our text to renew the distant anticipation of it, not only in some of those of his own day, but throughout ■every successive age. Let us, my bre- thren, habitually refer to that eventful crisis, and often retire from the interrup- tions of business and the enjoyments of society, that by faith we may gaze on the stupendous scenes which shall be- token its arrival. Shall such cotmsela need to be enforced "? How fares it with us when we have in prospect either what is most common in the troubles of the world, or what is most exquisite in its gratifications ? The subject is adhesive ; it absorbs us ; its claim is felt to be irre- sistible; it is borne into our parties ; it haunts our solitude; it steals our slum- bers. IMy brethren, that all-important change — to which I pray that our atten- tion may be duly turned — had long se- cured the attention of our departed friend : his mind was solemnly familiar with it. You who most remember the strain of his discourses and conversation will be most prompt to testify that he spoke, time after time, " as seeing him that is invisible," and as under a vivid impres- sion of those serious subjects — death, judgment, and eternity. 2. The prospect of our change may be viewed also in connexion with our estimate nf all earthly good. God may have brought within our reach many pleasant and profitable things ; and as yet we may not, like Job, have been forced with terrible emotions, to witness their departure. What, then ! shall they make us blind and insensible to the future? Shall we revel heedless amidst the diversified changes of others '? The claims of religion, and the dictates even of mere reason, prescribe another course ; for riches, and health, and fame, and friendship, and all beside which can ren- der a sublunary portion valuable, and life itself are held by a precarious tenure. Let us, therefore, while retaining our several possessions, and in them the ele- ments of external prosperit}^, rebuke in others, and chiefly in ourselves, that ex- travagant attachment and reliance which would imply a conviction that their worth is pre-eminent, and their duration sure. Let us use them like those who know that they are but secondary things, and things which may take their flight to- morrow. Let us regulate our minds not so much by the consciousness of their existence as by the foresight of their re- moval, waiting all the days of our appoint- ed time till our change come — that change which shall at once unveil the throne of RESIGNATION TO THE DIVINE WILL. 131 heaven, and cast all the glories of this world into perpetual oblivion. 3. Again. The prospect of our change may be viewed in connexion with our in- dividual exertions and supplications.. The sum of all the inquiry thus awaken- ed is, " What must I do to be saved ?" Whence comes it that language so befit- ing a degraded, condemned, troubled, and dying race prevails so little ] It is surely no s-Ught evil to be the enemy of God, the slaves of Satan, and the heirs of hell. Ilow pitiable are all they who remain in such a case ! The more pitiable if insen- sible of its horrors, and consequently in- disposed to cry. Who will direct me to the means of emancipation ] Inquiry, my brethren, must be followed up with corresponding exertions, not in the style of self-complacency, as though we claimed some particles of merit, or could, in the least, expiate our guilt — nor in the style of self-confidence, as though we could, in any wise, repair the ruins of our desolated nature. Our exertions, if acceptable and availing, must emanate from a deeply impressed sense of worth- lessness, self-misery, and danger, issuing in faith, and penitential sorrow, and watchfulness, and self-discipline, and humble trust, and pious activity. If inquiry must be followed up with exertion, faith must also be followed up with supplication. W^e are all dependant on God for every thing; more especially for a valid title to an inheritance above, and for the hearty assurance of an admis- sion there. Let us wait, in these various ways, until our change come. No sooner shall we fix our minds intently on the sacred volume, than we shall find that there is forgiveness with God, his adora- ble Son having suffered the just for the unjust, that by the sacrifice of himself he might put away sin — we shall find that through him we have access, by one Spirit, to the Father. It is the sacred volume that describes and urges the ex- ertion in which this inquiry must termi- nate— the strivings of our lives — the wrestling with principalities and powers —the denial of ungodliness and worldly lusts — the taking of the kingdom of hea- ven by violence — the being faithful unto death. In our supplications, let us be fervent, copious, and unwearied — still, however, presenting them in the name of Jesus, our advocate within the veil. Then shall we be brought into closer and closer union with his Father and our Father, and be made more and more " meet for the inheritance of the saints in light." 4. The prospect of our change may yet further be viewed, in connexion with all our intervening pains atjcl distresses. Job's case was severely complicated. His mind, his body, and his circum- stances, demanded the pity of all around him. Adverting, however, to his expected change, he seems to have subsided into a temporary calm, and to have resolved that, instead of yielding to fretfulness and fear, he would cultivate patience and sub- mission. This is one of the constructions which may fairly be put on these words, " All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." May we not naturally suppose that your late min- ister— excruciating as his agonies often were — often repeated these words, and in the sense here attributed to them ! Let us, while "we groan, being burthened," imitate him. Let us chide every tenden- cy to complain of Him, " in whom we live, and move, and have our being." Let us be comforted with reflecting how few are the years which shall revolve before this scene of tribulation shall be annihilated. 5. Finally. The prospect of our change may be viewed in connexion with all that is grand and joyful. Immediately after Job had uttered the text, he said, "Thou shalt call, and I will answer thee: thou wilt have a desire to the work of thine hands." But he rose to a higher elevation, when he said, " I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." Let us, my brethren, through the obedience, the atonement, and the intercession of our high-priest, seek for partnership in this triumphant confidence, giving " all diligence to make our calling and election sure," by adding 132 THE BRITISH PULPIT. to our " faith, virtue ; and to virtue, know- ledge; and to knowledge, temperance; and to temperance, patience ; and to pa- tience, godliness ; and to godliness, bro- therly kindness ; and to brotherly kind- ness, charity." Then shall we joyfully aid each other, at every renewal of our intercourse — our moral atmosphere will become purer and purer as we approach the land, the inhabitants of which shall never say, " I am sick" — and at length an entrance shall be ministered to us abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, It is now my duty to request your par- ticular notice to the dispensation which has clothed this assembly in the attire of mourning. The voice of our departed friend has been sounding in the public ear for almost half a century, and will sound through the nation for ages yet to come. A more eminent man seldom oc- cupies the sphere of human agency. His reasoning powers were of the highest order. To him it was given, if I may so speak, to penetrate subjects as by a mo- mentary intuition, and to fetch into view, soon after he had commenced his search, those deeply hidden treasures of the intel- lectual mind, to the discovery and the display of which most men, even of ac- knowledged talent, must have employed an elaborate process. According to the best import of the term, he gave the im- pression of his being a profound meta- physician, who, had he thought it proper to pursue the science of the mind — so great was his acumen — would probably have been rivalled by few, and surpassed by none. Sound judgment, and finished taste, and rich imagination, accompanied with real, unaffected piety and earnest- ness, together with touching pathos, per- vaded his compositions in general, and rendered those, particularly of a religious nature, inimitably grand. He had all the attributes of genius — that rare and mas- terly faculty which it is more easy to appreciate tlian to define. His erudition was that of the elegant scholar. He had formed his style on the purest models of Greece, Italy, and his native land. He took pains with it, and wrought it into that force, and beauty, and plainness, which placed him high in the first class of the most admired writers. With but a small compass of voice, the character of his ideas, their lucid order, his happy choice of expressions, the melody of his tones, the rapidity of his utterance, the fire of his eye, and the ardour of his feel- ings, drew from our lips, and from oui hearts, the testimony which can be nei- ther controverted nor suppressed, " This is eloquence — this is eloquence indeed .'" Had it been his destination to speak in the senate, or to plead at the bar, with a few exceptions, he would have eclipsed every competitor. But God gave him a better promotion. Not most certainly of that kind to which avarice and ambition aspire, but that which infinitely exceeded all that was ever reached by her most pros- perous votaries. His Saviour " counted him faithful, putting him into the minis- try," and thus honoured him with the weighty, yet delightful commission, " I send thee among the people, to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me." My esteemed hearers, attend me now in the survey and estimate of Mr. Hall as occupying the department, in which, through the influence of divine grace, he shone to the greatest advantage ; and that not for his own sake merely, but for that of others. May you especially that are young, cherish into a devout and firm purpose, as it regards yourselves, the recollection that he could say, with Oba- diah, " I feared the Lord from my youth." It was before he had attained his sixteenth year, that he publicly professed the reli- gion which continued to be the guide, and the stay, and the ornament of his truly Christian life. There are nany who, as if the Creator stood low on the list of claimants — as if his service were perfect drudgery — and as if he might be neglected with impunity, pass the meri- dian of life without the least care to hon- our or to glorify him, or even to be ac- cepted in his Son. At length, it may that some, satiated with the world's luxu- RESIGNATION TO THE DIVINE WILL. 133 ties— some oppressed by disappointment —some stung with remorse, and dreading- God's fiery judgments, tender him a few quivering sparks — a fragment or two of time — the mere wreck of what they once vere both in body and in mind, as they approach, doubtful and tremulous, the dark confines of eternity. How different was it with our departed friend ! He began his pilgrimage and warfare at the very dawn of life's cheerful years. Some present may recollect and will appreciate the joy, which must have quickened into an enlivened warmth of gratitude, of the heart of his excellent and gifted father on the day which witnessed the baptismal recognition of such a son's surrender and dedication of himself to God. Are none of you, in such manner, at least, as con- science dictates, found substantially walk- ing in his steps. A portion of you, who acknowledge Him to whom you are in- debted, could furnish me with an answer, which I pray that God would make uni- versal. Why should not all, during the vernal season of the moral year, discover, amidst the gardens of Zion, those fair blossoms, which, cherished by the dew of the Holy Ghost, and the rays of the Sun of righteousness, shall expand till the weeks of an abundant harvest arrive — that harvest of which so sweet a specimen has lately been conveyed from earth to heaven. Allow me this morning, to ad- vance a plea for God. Indeed, he is wor- thy to be adored, and trusted, and loved, and obeyed. O that I felt towards him what it becomes me to feel, and had ability and leisure to express myself accordingly ! But I advance not a plea for God alone ; I am also your advocate. Come and join yourselves to him in an everlasting covenant. He waits to receive you ; already his paternal heart melts over you ; and, on your first approach, he will smile, and declare, " From this day will I bless you." Did it once enter the mind of him, whose voice and countenance will, in this vale of mortality, arrest your attention no more — did it once enter into his mind to regret that he was too early in avouch- ing the Lord to be his God ■? Accept my tribute of aff"ectionate solicitude thus cor- dially, though at the special instigation — truth requires me to add — of one who said with emphasis, which my heart venerated, " Do not, in your discourse, overlook so opportune an occasion of pressing a life of thoughtfulness and piety on the young." It has been intimated by me, that in becoming a Christian minister Mr. Hall not only obeyed the divine will, but en- tered upon the most useful, and therefore the noblest, career. I had not such an acquaintance with his spiritual history, at that period, as would enable me to speak concerning it with minuteness, or in positive terms. The pleasing proba- bility, however, is that he had previously abased himself, as a perishing offender, before the Holy One of Israel — that he had believed in Jesus to the saving of the soul, and that he was moved with com- passion for a world lying in wickedness. That he was afterwards, at least, strongly marked with these characteristics, there can be no question. He belonged to what is called the evangelical school, a school which, owing to the speculations and col- lisions of modern partizans, cannot be so exactly described as it might have been thirty years ago. Still, it may, and it will, be represented as the depository of those expositions and confessions in which the protestant churches, according, at least, to their respective acknowledg- ments, are mainly united. It asserts, in plain language, the corruption of human nature — the divinity of Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Spirit — together with the vicarious pains and sorrows of the former, and the renewing influence of the latter. The venerable and bold Archbishop Leighton announces the system well, in language which has long since been made common, and which marks it distinctly. He says, " It lays low the sinner, exalts the Saviour, and promotes holiness." I speak it to the credit of Mr. Hall, that he knew, as a theological speculator, where to stop — that, having arrived, through divine assistance, farther and farther, after reasoning appeared to fail, he re- joiced to sit a humble learner at the feet of Jesus — that he shrank from scholastic subtleties — and that he was too wise, too modest, and too scriptural, to attempt M 134 THE BRITISH PULPIT. becoming the founder, or the factious pa- tron, of a sect. As a biblical critic he was capable, after all that has been af- firmed in Britain and on the continent, of throwing much additional light on obscure passages and disputed doctrines. As an expositor he was clear, perspicuous, and most energetic ; and, in his social addresses from the pulpit, he did indeed speak as the oracle of God, and held up truth in its interesting — its solemn — its encourag- ing, and its alarming aspects. There, in a style peculiarly his own, he warned, rebuked, and remonstrated. There, he disclosed the enormity of sin, its varie- ties, its windings, and its worthlessness. There he unfolded the richness of divine grace, the beauties of holiness, and the felicities of our eternal home. There he constantly renewed his purpose to expa- tiate on Jesus Christ, as our wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and re- demption. I have no doubt that many have been compelled to acknowledge that the gospel had no charms for them, or none that conquered their sceptical indif- ference and carnality, before they beheld it through the medium of his illustration. The simple text of the Bible, when he was the reader, was elucidated I had al- most said, more than by the extended commentary of an ordinary man. He quoted well ; so that, like a celebrated female writer within your own circle, and a preacher of high reputation in a neighbouring city, he has often impressed me with the beneficial dexterity which may be evinced in detaching portions of the Bible, so as to set them like " apples of gold in pictures of silver." The exordiums of his discourses were conducted deliberately, and not without a degree of hesitation. His divisions were always natural, and nearly always simple. He kindled as he proceeded, till, borne upwards on the wings of sera- phic delight, he seemed as if he could spare only a single glance even for his beloved flock, and that for the purpose of stimulating them to share with their pas- tor in the joy of their common Lord ; and that moment he shut the book and finished his discourse, leaving them to regret that he had finshed it so soon. Need I remind you of his humility, his simplicity, and his importunity in prayer. He gathered up himself to take hold of the strength of God, and to enjoy it for his own benefit and that of all others. Perhaps we could have no view of liim more striking, and more conducive to our improvement, than when we saw him drawing nigh to the throne of the hea- venly grace, and heard him imploring mercy there. What a spectacle for the eye, what sounds for the ear, of men who, without a tenth part of his talent or of his virtue, think it useless to pray and need- less to repent ! In the divided state of Christendom we necessarily show our respective prefer- ences. He did. Mr. Hall was decidedly a Protestant dissenter ; but who has mere warmly eulogized the " Liturgy of the established Church T" His expressions are these, " I believe that the evangelical purity of its sentiments, and the chastened fervour of its devotion, and the majestic simplicity of its language, have combined to place in it the very first rank of unin- spired compositions." He was an un- compromising Baptist, but he respected the rights of conscience. He conceded that liberality which he required and ex- ercised. He recoiled from the thought of augmenting, as he would have deemed it, the ritual peculiarity of so small a de- nomination into a barrier that should exclude from sacramental fellowship the members of every denomination besides, when a Howe, an Owen, a Baxter, a Wesley, a Whitfield, a Doddridge a Watts, were entreating to be admitted. So, on the other hand, it is to be lamented that such a saint and such a preacher as he was, should have been disqualified, either by law or by convention, from visit- ing wherever a sanctuary was prepared and a congregation was eager to receive him. At the end of each Sabbath he re- turned to bless his household ; and day after day, whether at home or abroad, his advice, his sympathy, his bounty, and his spiritual gifts, awaited those who had need of what it was in his power to com- municate. I have remarked with some surprise, not unconnected with admiration, that RESIGNATION TO THE DIVINE WILL. 135 neither at Cambridge, nor at Leicester, nor at Bristol, was he understood to fre- quent, with an undue zest, the society of the learned or the opulent, notwithstand- ing he must have met the eager invita- tions of all who were qualified to enjoy the feast of reason. That he was es- teemed by a ]Mackintosh, and such men, some of you are aware. Disease, I am sensible, tends to lessen the literary ap- petite for fame ; yet, if the love of fame had been his unconquerable passion, it would have overwhelmed the banks within which prudence and piety sought to confine it. He had an early passion, but it was generous and sacred, and hence he condescended to men of low estate. It was enough for him that he perceived there the fruits of the Spirit, and he im- mediately attempted to accelerate their growth for immortality. From tills adulatory account are there no deductions to be made on the score of failings'? He, decidedly, would have exclaimed, " Yes, and they are serious and many." He had his failings, but your candour traces even these admix- tures, in part to his temperament, and in part to the very source of his eminence. The gay and satirical strain of his juve- nile communications — the exuberance of that wit which was dignified and pure, as well as original, and his occasional vehemence of expression, sometimes de- generate from the energy with which he wielded the sword of the Spirit against the army of the aliens. There were a few points of singularity, and, now and then, a want of precision in minute ar- rangements. Attaching, however, chiefly to his early years, were they not resolva- ble into those habits of sublime abstrac- tion which are scarcely compatible with a full measure of attention to the affairs and usages of common life] As to his reluctance to become an au- thor, and so to extend the sphere of his usefulness, he was, indeed, physically disabled ; and the ground which he would have preferred was, in his opinion, and according to his modest estimate, pre- occupied by his superiors. Whatever he was, it has pleased God to remove him from us. Many a storm had beaten vehemently upon his earthly tabernacle without destroying it; again and again it was, as it were, repaired, so as to continue, though incommodious, yet tenantabls by its immortal occupant. At length, after only four years spent here, he heard the voice of the dispensa- tion, which said, " These are your last public labours. Your warfare is all but accomplished. One stroke more and your tabernacle shall be dissolved ; and thou shalt be elevated to thy destined state, among the spirits of just men made perfect." In the course of his illness, when the nature of it did not interfere to prevent, he showed where his thoughts were. That he had embraced the gospel was manifest by signifying, in a whisper to his dearest relative, his need of Christ, and his reliance on him. Now I turn to you, his deeply afllicted sisters, and to you, the still more deeply afllicted widow. You have lost much, but you mourn not without encourage- ment, from the pleasing recollection, and the more pleasing hopes, that to him " the bitterness of death is past." He is con- scious of no sin — he endures no pain — he fears no evil. He is where and what he would be, and shall be for ever and ever. You cannot wish to recall him. I trust, however, that you are following him — that you will be comforted from stage to stage, and finally be united to him more intimately and more happily than could, under the most gratifying circunistances, have been permitted here. I am not unmindful of you, the surviv- ing orphans. Bereaved of so good a pa- rent, what can you do] I would recom- mend you — contemplating God, who is most wise, most mighty, and most merci- ful— from this time, if never before, to say, " Thou art my Father, thou shalt be the guide of my youth." Were the indi- vidual whom you have so much reason to love and venerate again to call you around him, would he not allure, encou rage, and admonish you to choose God fo your Father, and serve him with a per feet heart and willing mind ] All secrets, all hearts, all understandings, and all the imaginationsof the thoughts are open and naked before him. " If thou seek hia. 136 THE BRITISH PULPlT. he will be fouml of thee, but if thou for- sake him he will cast thee off for ever." Many a prayer has been and will be offered on your behalf; and the substance of them is, that you may be the children of God, the members of Christ, and the heirs of the kingdom of heaven. Then, instead of being mentioned as samples of that degeneracy which so often stigma- tizes a minister's children, you will love one another — you will prove comforts to your surviving parent — you will rejoice the church — you will elicit the friendly attestation. Thy son and thy daughters are worthy of their parentage. Is there not already found, in more than one of you, some good thing towards the Lord God of Israel 1 Next I appeal to you, the members of this church, and the rest of the stated con- gregation. When recollecting what I have either known or seen recorded of Mr. Hall, Dr. Ryland, Dr. Evans, Dr. Hugh Evans his father, and Mr. Fawcett, I rehearse the ministerial progress of five Buch men as have seldom presided in uniform succession over any one of our churches. Thankfully resign what the universal proprietor has demanded. Main- tain your oneness with the Saviour. Treasure up the things which your late pastor has taught you. Be anxious to deepen the impressions w^hich he has made. Tremble at the idea of being lost after so long an attendance on such means of grace and salvation, and pray that every succeeding reference to tbe name of Hall may conduct you to that of the chief Shepherd, may bring a reinforce- ment to your faith, to your charity, to your spiritual-minded ness, and to your holy zeal. As it regards your loss, may God supply all your need, according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. As for you, my esteemed friend, once the delighted and admiring colleague of him whom you will serve in the gospel no more, you will, I am persuaded, seri- ously repair to the everlasting spring of consolation. And you, the candidates for the sacred office, deprived now of the finest specimen of ministerial address, I mourn with you, but justify him who hath said, "Have I not a right to do what I will with mine own V Walk as Mr. Hall did, closely and humbly with God. Take heed unto yourselves and to your doctrine. Search the Scriptures. Serve your generation according to the will of God. Be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might ; and keep in view the assurance given by our Lord's apostle, " When Christ who is our life shall appear, then shall we also appear with him in glory." You may be wanting in those accomplish- ments which rendered Mr. Hall one of the phenomena of the age — his depth, his sublimity, his mental vigour, his breath- ing thoughts, his burning words ; — but you may hope, by the divine aid, to ap- proach him in sanctification, in kindntjss, in devotedness to God, and in a concern for the salvation of men. You may also hope to make an effectual display of the truth as it is in Jesus ; and, singling out some of the great assembly that shall be converted hereafter, it may be yours to exclaim, " Behold, here am I, and the children whom thou hast given me." All Christian ministers are impressed by this solemn event. Many of them feel as though, in partnig with this one bro- ther, they had parted with many. They look down on the dreary chasm produced by the ascent of his triumphant spirit, and ask despairingly, When will it be filled as it was before he left it] They are dispersed through a diversity of reli- gious connexions, but they were wont to claim him as a fellow member with them, applying to him the encomium first ap- plied to another minister, " Such he was as every Christian church would have rejoiced to have adopted." Some have never heard him, but they have read his printed productions, and in them they recognise the illuminated and strenuous asserter of divine truth, or they have heard of him as a preacher who scorned the tinsel of heartless eloquence. Various individuals have sunk in the most important kind of reputation as they have advanced in years, or have suffered shipwreck even within sight of the har- bour ; but you have perceived that hie doctrine and his example shone " more THE PULPIT GALLERY. 137 and more unto the perfect day." So may .it be with you ! A document has been prepared by the medical friend to whom, under God, he owed so much mitigation of pain in the last days of his life ; and it is so minute and interesting that I can only lament its having come into my possession too late for the use which might have been made of it on the present occasion. On read- ing it, I was distressed to think of the torture which agitated his body ; but I was proportionately relieved by his calm- ness and serenity of mind, and by his tender but solemn allusions to Him who, amidst the pangs of crucifixion, cried out in agonies resulting from a bitter source, " My God, my God, why hast thou for- saken me !" and also his most refreshing persuasion that all would soon be well with him — for he would soon be with his God ! The church, at large, could ill spare him ; but he is happy. INlay every preacher, who had the opportunity of appreciating him, and may all here, and elsewhere, that ever had the privilege of his ac- quaintance or ministry, follow him as he followed Christ, and be associated with him in the service and the bliss of eter- nity. Amen. THE PUZiPIT GJLZiIiZiaV. NO. VI. THE REV. ROBERT HALL, D.D. Late Pastor of Broadmead Meeting, Bristol. Robert Hall was a son of the Rev. Robert Hall, a Baptist minister, and was born at Arnsby, in Leicestershire, in the year 1764. At the age of seventeen, Mr. Hall entered himself a student at King's college, Aberdeen, where he highly dis- tinguished himself. In his twentieth year, he took his degree of master of arts, and became assistant to Dr. Evans in the labours of the Bristol Academical Insti- tution, and in the exercises of the pulpit. At this time he was visited with a severe affliction, which for a season, suspended his valuable labours. In the year 1791, he became the successor of Robert Robinson of Cambridge ; and soon after his settlement, he had the satisfaction of Vol. L— 18 seeing the pleasure of the Lord prospei in his hand. In 1803, Mr. Hall was again afflicted and obliged to suspend all public duty; but his mind having regained its accus- tomed powers, he was subsequently in- vited to become the pastor of the Baptist church at Leicester, which offer he ac- cepted. Here he laboured for more than twenty years beloved by his flock — es- teemed by the inhabitants of the town, and revered by the clergy of the esta- blished and protected churches. In the year 1825, Dr. Ryland the pre- sident of the Bristol academy, and pas- tor of Broadmead meeting, died, when Mr. Hall was unanimously chosen to succeed him in both offices. A sense of duty, after due deliberation, induced him to accept this arduous and important post. How^ he was esteemed and loved, and what were the opinions formed of him, during the last years of his life, may be seen by the following extract from a let- ter which appeared in the Bristol Journal, a few days after his decease. " To consign in silence to the weekly record of death the sudden removal from our world of a man so pre-eminent in whatever has the strongest claim on in- tellectual, moral, or religious, admiration, would leave, we feel, a degree of reproach on that city which has been blessed and honoured by his presence during the last five years of his invaluable life. On such an occasion, were we to hold our peace, the very stones in our streets would cry out against us. By this melancholy event a star of the first magnitude anr splendour has been eclipsed ; and death has seldom claimed a richer spoil. To speak of this incomparable man in lan- guage proportioned to his merit, is far beyond the pretension of this hasty me- morial : his just eulogy would require an eloquence like that which his generous spirit had so often displayed at the grave of departed excellence; like that with which he has represented the feelings of the nation on the death of the Princess Charlotte — the feelings of Leicester on the death of Mr. Robinson — or those of Bristol on that of Dr. Ryland ; an elo- quence like that which has so long, and M 2 138 THE BRITISH PULPIT. nere so lately, charmed into admiring' attention the thousands who hung upon his lips. The tones of that hallowed oratory haunt us at this moment with a mental echo that will not soon die away : but alas ! the living voice, or another like it, will be heard no more ! In the sub- lime and boundless themes of religious contemplation, this sacred orator, this Christian Demosthenes, triumphed, as in an element congenial with the amplitude and grandeur of his mind. His preach- ing (it may be truly said, and, now that he has ceased either to preach or to hear, said without impropriety) was as far superior, in magnificence of thought and expression, to ordinary preaching, as the ' Paradise Lost' is superior to other poe- try. It was, if such an image may be allowed, like harmony poured forth by a harp of a thousand strings. But he has himself unconsciously portrayed it in his exquisite remarks on the preaching of Mr. Robinson : — ' You have most of you witnessed his pulpit exertions on that spot where he was accustomed to retain a listening throng, awed, penetrated, de- lighted, and instructed, by his manly, unaffected eloquence. Who ever heard him without feeling a persuasion that it was the man of God who addressed him, or without being struck by the perspicu- ity of his statements, the solidity of his thoughts, and the rich unction of his spirit ] It was the harp of David, which, touched by his powerful hand, sent forth more than mortal sounds ; and produced an impression far more deep and perma- nent than the thunder of Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagrations of Cicero I' The energies of this great spirit were concentrated in devotion ; consecrated, through a long course of years, to the re- ligious benefit of man, and the glory of a redeeming God. The intellectual sub- limity and beauty of his mind were in perfect harmony with the moral elevation and spiritual grace of his character. The singular humility of his heart, the remark- able modesty and affability of his deport- ment, presented an affecting contrast to the splendour of his genius ; his consci- entious and unearthly indifference to fame or emolument was rendered the more striking by his ability to command them, had he wished, with his tongue and with his pen. Combining the intellect of a Pascal with the oratory of a Massillon, he retained through life a transparent simplicity and sincerity, as inimitable as the wonders of his reason and eloquence ; while all his endowments were embalmed and crowned by a seraphic piety. But praise is useless here : ' his praise is in all the churches :' so long as genius, hal- lowed and sublimed by devotion, shall command veneration, the name of Robert Hall will be remembered among the brightest examples of sainted talent : and above all, ' his record is on high :' he has passed from a state of protracted suffering into that glory to which he had long and fervently aspired, and which he had often portrayed with the vividness of one who had caught an anticipating glimpse of the beatific vision. ' His saltern accumulen donis, et fungar inani Munere.' " R. T. WILSON Late Bishop of Sodor and Man. This eminent prelate was venerable in his aspect, meek in his deportment, his face illuminated with benignity, and his heart glowing with piety : like his divine Master, he went about doing good. His ear was ever open to the tale of woe, and his hand ready to relieve. His palace was a temple of charity. Hospitality stood at his gate, and invited the stranger and beggar to a plenteous repast. The day he devoted to benevolence, and the night to piety. His revenue was dedicated to the poor and needy: and, not contented with relieving the wants, and mitigating the woes of mankind, he was solicitous, by precept and example, to conduct his little flock to the kingdom of heaven.. He died in the ninety-third year of his age, and the fifty-eighth of his consecra- tion, justly revered and lamented by the whole island ; while his grave was wa- tered with the tears of those whom his bounty had supported, his benignity had gladdened, or his eloquent piety had turned into the paths of righteousness. SERMON XIII. THE CHARACTER OF RELIGIOUS ZEAL. BY THE REV. A. THOMSON, D. D. " ft IS good to he zealously affected always in a good thing." — Gal. iv. 18. I TAKE it for granted that the good thing here mentioned is true religion ; and I will not suppose that any of you are alarmed at the idea of religious zeal, nor that you think it injurious or inconsistent. And I will suppose that you consider it as a character which essentially belongs to a disciple of the Saviour ; and that when we say, a zealous Christian, we speak with as much propriety as when we say, a zealous friend, a zealous patriot ; — that it is a grace of the Christian life ; and that it gives to all other graces of the Christian character their highest tone, and their highest effect. But while zeal ts as necessary in religion as in any other pursuit which is difficult ; yet religion, as it is superior to all else, and as its diffi- culties are inconceivably greater, it is of greater importance to be zealous in reli- gion than in any thing beside. There may, indeed, be exceptions; as when it operates for opinions in religion only — or for a part of religion, and not the whole — or in the use of means which religion does not sanction. But it is most evident that it cannot be excessive when it is di- rected to a right object, and by right means, and in its own spirit. We cannot be too zealous in working out ourown salva- tion— or in glorifying the God who made us — or in serving the Redeemer who died for us to procure our redemption : we can- not be too zealous in preparing for eter- nity : we cannot be too zealous in assist- ing our fellow-creatures to save their immortal souls. We may be satisfied, from the example of Christ, and from the example of his disciples, and from the example of the best men in the Christian church, that in all these things we cannot be too zealous. We are in danger only on the other side : we cannot go beyond due bounds : and those who are so con- tinually cautioning their friends against being too zealous in religion, are persons who are themselves uninfluenced by the Spirit of God. How can we be too zeal- ous to become Christians indeed, or too zealous to obtain a meetness for the eter- nal kingdom of God T But we shall not dwell longer on this point. There are, however, many things to be attended to, in order that our zeal may be as efficient as possible. Though it cannot be too great in its degree, yet, in order that it may adorn the Christian character, and that it may produce its intended effects, our zeal must be regulated by certain principles and maxims ; that it may not be injurious, but acquire a pro- per tone, and be made useful to ourselves and to others. The want of judgment in some who have exercised it has brought it into bad reputation ; and by their reck- lessness they have hindered their own progress in Christianity, and prevented their usefulness to those around them. By putting our zeal under proper direction and management, we shall not only add to its ardour in our own particular case, but be beneficial in any place where its influence pervades. I. Our zeal for true religion should BE A REAL AND CONSCIENTIOUS ZEAL. There is a zeal of sympathy, which is awakened by the zeal of others with whom we associate. We catch their spirit — we follow what they begin — we assume the same aspect which they wear 139 140 THE BRITISH PULPIT. — we share in the credit which they ob- tain. There is a constitutional zeal ; a warmth, an ardour, which enters into all we say and do — which pervades all we engage in — and which induces us to un- dertake what others would tremble at. And there is a zeal of sentimentaliiy, which will not influence us when things are looked at in their plain form ; which throws a sort of romantic glow over our object, and which leads to exercises which are too often the language of the pas- sions; and which are too loose, and too random, to produce a decided effect. And there is a zeal of affectation. It has no counterpart in the affections of the heart. It is coupled with indifference, and even with hostility, to the cause it affects to serve. It courts attention ; like Jehu, who took Jehonadab up into his chariot, and drove through the streets to Samaria, say- ing, " Come, see my zeal for the Lord I" Now, all this is wrong : this is, properly speaking, not zeal in religion ; religion is not the thing in view : there is no wish for religion — no desire to promote its interests — in those who thus exercise it. The zeal of sympathy, for instance, is only that of a soldier, who, though himself a coward, is urged on to battle by the example of the general who is at his head. The zeal of constitution is a mere animal warmth, and is no more allied to our spirits, than are our arms or our feet. The zeal of sentimentality does not reciprocate with religion, as it is found in men who have not religion. It must have some power- ful excitement, and dies away when that is gone. And the zeal of affectation is, in fact, hypocrisy ; and is not more con- demned in Scripture than it is odious in itself, and pernicious in its consequences. The zeal that is proper, is a fair demon- stration of what is felt within us. It seeks not the eye of man, but acts under the keen, all-searching eye of God. It is in- fluenced by what is real and true ; it is fed by the real and great blessings which Christianity has to bestow ; and then it becomes a constituent part of our charac- ter— it becomes a part of our duty — it constitutes a portion of our blessedness. It maintains its dominion in our souls ; and it appears without what it is really within, and what we are anxious to prove it to our own consciences, and to Him who sees what passes within. And now, my friends, are you zealous 1 Do you think j' ourselves so ? Are you so esteemed by your fellow-men 1 Do not imagine )^ou are so, because men are satis- fied with you, or because you have done much that is accounted good. Be not satisfied with this ; but examine your- selves— see that you have real, heartfelt zeal. Seek to be renewed in the spirit of your minds. .Be strong in your faith in that system which has God for its author, and salvation for its end. Meditate on all which that religion requires you to believe — on all it commands you to do. Think of its value to every human being. Pon- der on the misery it stoops to relieve. Reflect on your own personal guilt and danger, and cordially embrace the salva- tion it reveals. Dart your views and thoughts forward into eternity, and let every feeling be roused, and every pas- sion called forth into exercise ; and let re- ligion, and your zeal for it, be as firmly united in your hearts as they are in the will of God. II. Our zeal for remgion must also BE INTELLIGENT, ACCOMPANIED WITH KNOWLEDGE. There is no subject on which we ought to be zealous, if we are ignorant of that with which it is conver- sant. In such case, it may do injury in- stead of good. Zeal is a feeling of much potency : its exercise is strong, and may be resistless ; so that it requires to be operated only as to what is good. If it be employed in what is evil, it may do great injury by its success ; if it be em- ployed in what is good, the result may be greatly beneficial. We must, therefore, be well acquainted with what it proposes, and also with the means by which it is to be brought about. We must not speak of religion in its more comprehensive term, but by a particular examination of its component parts. We may say that it is religion in general we are anxious to promote — to propagate it in geiwral — to be zealous for it in general. But it is only as we correctly understand its im- port, that we can be zealous in believing, in loving, in obeying, what it reveals and RELIGIOUS ZEAL. 141 enjoins. We may else be only pursuing- a shadow instead of the substance, and devoting to error what is due to truth alone. And, even if we know ils nature, what will this avail, if we be ignorant of the proper meaiis to spread it? We may prove injurious; and, though we only in- tended good, nothing but evil may arise. We must take care that our minds be en- lightened on both these subjects ; that we may well understand the nature of Chris- tianity, and the best modes of makiiig it available to the great purposes it is de- signed to effect. • Many instances might be adduced to prove this. Paul says of his countrymen, " I bear them record, that they have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge.'''' You see that he testifies to the sincerity of their zeal, and to the general goodness of that as to which their zeal was em- ployed ; and yet they were quite wrong — their zeal went for nothing ; or, rather, it served to increase their delusion, and to accelerate their ruin. "For they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and go- ing about to establish their own right- eousness, have not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God ;" — they were desirous of being saved, and that accord- ing to the will of God, but they were mis- taken as to the way of salvation — as to the nature of that will ; they wished to be saved by their own works; they were strangers to his righteous mode of saving ; they depended on the ceremonial observ- ances of the Mosaic ritual, instead of coming in the way of mercy which God had provided for the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ. The consequence was, they could not be ex- empted from wrath and obtain salva- tion ; and at the very time they had so much zeal, Paul was pouring forth his earnest prayer " that they might be saved,'''' — that they might be led aright, and brought to obtain the salvation they de- sired. And this was not peculiar to the Jews : the same thing is to be feared of many in our own day, of whose sincerity we dare not doubt. Zealous as they may be in their own way, yet, as that is the wrong way, they cannot obtain any good by the exercise of all their zeal, however warm- If they would be zealous so as to profit themselves, it becomes them, with all humility, to go to the fountain of know- ledge to obtain all that information by which it is God's will they should come to salvation. How many of our Roman Catholic brethren, for instance, are exer- cising the warmest zeal ; but they are ig- norant of the only true guide — the word of God. They are directed falsely by those who should guide them. Their zeal is zeal for the infallibility of human councils, for the traditions of men, for trifles, for will-worship, and for all the absurd mummery of superstition. The persons of whom I now speak, with sin- cerest pity for their ignorance, have the same feelings and passions in com'mon with ourselves ; but they have not received the truth in its purity ; — and while we behold them so zealousfor all tlie fooleries, in the belief of which they have been brought up, it well befits us to take warn- ing by their example, and to avail our- selves of all the truth which God has re- vealed, and all the records of his saving grace. In proportion as we are mistaken on the subject of religion, and mistaken as to the means of its propagation, will be the injurious nature of that zeal which we cultivate in ourselves, and which we aim to promote in our fellow-men. And, to be impartial, I will adduce in further illustration, the treatment which has been given to that sect, and to the members of that sect, as to their civil and religious capacity. I believe that these two points are not separated as they should be ; and there is often a zeal exer cised against them, that they may never possess a greater extension of their civi- privileges, because we know that they have a system of religion which we are quite sure is wrong. If the persons who are thus zealous against them, believe that they shall be exposed to danger by that extension, they are right in acting as they do ; and if I thought as they do, which I most certainly do not, I should act the same. W^e suppose, that simply because they are educated in, and make profession of, a very bad system of reli gion, — for this, and for no other reasoa 142 THE BRITISH PULPIT. we ought to degrade and to disfranchise all who liold that system. This zeal may be very sincere, but it is not zeal accord- ing to knowledge. I believe that the sys- tem of popery is bad — that it is prejudi- cial to the spread of knowledge and the cause of true religion — that we should do all we can to beat it down — and that it is wrong for any man to be cold or chary in acting against it : still, it comes clearly to my mind, that this does not form a disqualt- ficalinn for the enjoyment of civil privi- leges ; and that zeal against the system is not incompatible with a willingness for the increase of those privileges ; and that this extension of their privileges is the very way to do them good, to open their minds, and to remove those barriers which have hitlierto prevented free inquiry. What is perilous at one time may be safe at another ; and I believe that our zeal against the system shall be greater and more effective, by granting an extension of civil liberties to men who have been imder the influence of early prejudices and education, and who have too fre- quently been borne down by the ungener- ous restrictions of a selfish policy. In saying this, I mean no offence : I only crave the liberty which I grant to others. I only contend that our zeal in religion, must be zeal according to knowledge ; and that in order to have it according to knowledge, we must go to the Scriptures, which alone can enlighten. For want of this, we find men zealous in asserting dogmas which have no foundation but in their own heated fancies ; and which have no more resemblance to truth than the most absurd fictions of pagan mythology. If any of you, my brethren, have hith- erto been zealous without light, be zeal- ous now, and repent. Examine the Scrip- tures ; and let your zeal be directed to a worthy end, and exerted in the use of suitable means : then shall it be useful to yourselves, and useful to all around. III. There must be prudence in the EXERCISE AND MANIFESTATION OF OUR RE- LIGIOUS ZEAL. — 1 am well aware that many Christian people are afraid of this ; they are afraid that it springs from indifference to the great cause. They are all zeal without prudence ; just as another class of persons are all prudence without zeal. Those to whom I now allude, are chiefly young persons : they are all alive to the power and excellency of the gospel ; their ordinary judgment and feelings are laid aside ; they see religion as the one thing needful. And in the struggles of their souls to escape the evil which threatens them ; and in their desires to obtain the salvation which has been wrought out for them ; and in their anxiety to snatch others from the ruin which aw^aits them ; and in the alacrity with which they proceed in the course of obedience; and in the joy with which they look forward to the glory which awaits them ; — there is a warmth and impetuosity of feeling which makes them wonder how any who feel what they feel, and know what they know, and who see what they see, should set any bounds to their zeal. While we rejoice in all these, as proofs of real religion, we yet wait earnestly for the period when their zeal shall become tempered with pru- dence, which shall be at once their safe- guard and their impetus, and enable them effectually to accomplish the very object which they propose. We should be careful to adopt those measures which are best in themselves, and most likely to accomplish the object we propose. This is what we call Pru- dence. Prudence does not damp our zeal, but enables us better to accomplish our own object. It teaches us to bring our zeal into action at those times which are most seasonable ; and in that manner which is most likely to produce the great- est quantity of good. And as it teaches this, and nothing else, we should cultivate it with all humility, and practice it with all diligence. It is said of the good man, that " he will guide his affairs with dis- cretion ;" and surely, if he should do this in all his concerns, he should do it espe- cially in religion. It was predicted of Christ, whose zeal was so strong that it was said to consume him, that he should " deal prudently ;" and it is added, " he shall be exalted, and extolled, and be very high ;" and what was thus his own con- duct, he presses on his followers. Solo- mon, who was a very wise man, has said, " Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee : RELIGlOLrS ZEAL. 143 he tliat reproveth a scorner, getteth to himself shame." And a greater than Solomon has said, " Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine ; lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you." Persecution is what the Christian is told he must expect; and he sometimes seems more ready to cope with it than avoid it, lest any should doubt his sincerity. But Jesus Christ has taught us that we should not provoke this, nor avoid the ordinary means of safety. " Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves : be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves. But beware of men. When they persecute you in this city, flee ye into another." The Christian feels deeply concerned for the honour of God, and is sometimes ready to imagine that the profane and the wicked should be swept away by an act of violence : but Christ did not so ; and lest his followers should desire to go into the field to gather out the tares, he has said, " Nay ; lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them." The zeal of Paul was great : it led him to meet every hazard — to encounter every danger ; he was " instant in season, out of season ;" he stood constantly prepared to make a sacrifice of his life. Yet he was prudent ,• he practised himself what he advised ; — " Walk in wisdom toward them that are without ;" — " Let not your good be evil spoken of;" — cautions these, which, while they check no zeal, are salutary to those who, if they did not act so, would be less excellent in themselves, and less useful to others. You cannot be too zealous in obtaining personal religion ; but at the same time you cannot be too prudent in the means you adopt to pro- mote it ; and at the same time that this will enable you to abound in all the fruits of righteousness, it will cause you to be instrumental in making others safe and happy. IV. The exercise of Christian zeal MUST ALWAYS CONSIST WITH MORAL INTE- GRITY.— We said at the first that you can- not be too zealous to obtain religion ; and this particular may seem to contradict it. But we spake of trtie religion ; and if in your zeal you act contrary to moral inte- grity, it is not true religion: you may think so, but you mistake. True religion em- braces the whole will of God ; and, as moral and responsible agents, it is not more necessary that we should seek a lawful end, than that we should seek the gaining of that end by lawful means. It is never right to do wrong that good may come. Christianity in our own hearts cannot be supported by that which is in itself contrary to its own nature and ob- ject. A deliberate or systematic disobe- dience to any one command of God, is con- trary to the very design of the holy God who gave us his gospel to make us holy. We must " abstain from all appearance of evil," and do that which is pleasing in the sight of God. A striking instance of this false zeal is furnished by the conduct of the Pharisees, in the days of our Lord. " Ye say, who- soever shall say to his father or his mother, it is a gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by me, and honour not his father or his mother, he shall be free." These men were very zealous in making vows as to the temple of God, and in de- voting property to that eflTect ; but at the same time they kept back that which was due to the support of their parents, and thus brake the fifth commandment. Our Lord would commend love and zeal mani- fested to his house; but he condemned it when done at the expense of duty. He could not but be displeased at their pre- tending to please him by what Avas diame- trically opposed to his will : and had the Pharisees been acquainted with the word of God ; had they depended less on the traditions of men and the teachings of the scribes, and more on the pure word of God ; — they had not so mistaken, nor pre tended to honour God, while they diso beyed his will. This is one instance only ; but it contains the principle we would impress upon you. Christ has here taught us that our zeal is unsound and unavailing, when it prosecutes its objects by wrong means. It is not exces sive, but altogether wrong; it is not zeal for true religion. It requires, not to be regulated in its ardour, but to be changed 144 THE BRITISH PULPIT. in its object. To please God by break- ing his will, and to save the soul by an act of disobedience, is one of the strangest ideas that can possibly enter into the mind of man. If you, my brethren, have bad such a zeal; if, you have disregarded honesty and sincerity in search of religion ; if you have acted under the influence of the sentiment, that "^we may do evil that good may come ;" if, under the idea of making the vpord of God known more extensively, you put up with it something which is not Gocfs word ; if, in attempting to promote the truth of God, you resort to means which God does not approve ; — O, " be zealous, and repent ,-" and be assured, that without this integrity to accompany your zeal, you can never prosper, be the object you aim at never so great and well conceived. V. Our religious zeal must be under THE INFLUENCE OF CHARITY. Great things are said of charity ; and while to be destitute of it, is to be destitute of the chief ornament of the Christian charac- ter ; so to have it and to exercise it aright, is to have the heart purified and made meet for God. And charity is of vast im- portance to religious zeal. If we have it not, we shall take no pains to do good to those around us ; if we see them in dark- ness and in danger, yet, not loving them, we shall make no effort to do them good ; whereas, if we have charity towards them, we shall do them all the good we can. And when we are zealous for their good, then charity comes in to mould it into a better form, and to bring about more effec- tually the end we propose to accomplish. If we have not been taught to love God, " and to hate sin — to hate sin, because we love him who first loved us ; when we meet with those who are opposed to the plans of God and his salvation, we are apt to think harshly of them, and would, by one act, cast them out at once. Such a zeal is unworthy the professors of the gospel of Christ. The more sinful and wretched men are, the more anxious should we be to bring them into the ways of Christ. We should exercise the charity that " hopeth all things ;" and hope that a change may take place, how- ever bad things seem at present. By the exercise of this disposition, we shall con- ciliate the hearts we are anxious to win to the obedience of Christ. Charity will sublime our zeal ; it will enable us to use the means with greater effect, and bring them to bear on the circumstances and situations of those whom we wish to benefit. This charity, however, does not require us to mingle the wicked and the right- eous ; to imagine there is holiness where there is only sin ; or to suppose that men are the servants of God, when they are, in fact, the servants of Satan. This would be but imbecility; and it would injure others, because it would lead them to practise, without compunction, the very things they ought to avoid. Some there are, of whom we cannot speak but with aversion, or of their practices but with abhorrence. Here, however, is room for the exercise of charity ; in quali- fying the circumstances which have given rise to the evil, and in finding room for aiming at their conversion, whatever may be the nature of their case. And while charity will lead us to pity them, and to aim at their salvation ; it will prevent us from confounding with habits what has only originated in mistake, and from keep- ing at a distance from that which only waits for the exercise of Christian exer- tion and instruction, to make all proper and Christian. Charity, therefore, so far from checking our zeal, prompts us to the immediate use of proper means, and gives those means their due effect. If we be zealous for religion, we shall be zealous for charity, which is an essen- tial part of true religion. We therefore exhort you, in the exercise of j'our zeal for true religion, for the sake of others to invest your zeal with charity. I would especially enforce this on those who have but lately been brought into the ways of God. You are apt to consider your for- mer associates as bad persons ; you are even ready to consider them as outcasts from God's favour, and as something too vile to be mended or saved. O, my friends, consider that it is but a very little while since you also were " in the gall of bitter- ness and in the bond of iniquity ;" you RELIGIOUS ZEAL. 145 are but just rescued from " the horrible pit, and the miry clay ;" and if God had dealt with you as you deserved, you had been plunged into the pit of destruction. It was by no merit of yours that you were saved. Many of you were in the same state as those on whom you now look with supercilious scorn. Think that they, also, may be saved as well as you ; and even outstrip you, and be taken to the realms of bliss, while you are struggling, toiling, and fighting, here below ! O take heed ! Be zealous, be very zealous, to avoid your former evil associates, that with them you may not be carried down the stream of ruin ; be zealous, be very zealous, in urging on your course in the path that leads to heaven ; but let charity also have its perfect work. Be zealous to save them ; be zealous to bestow on them a boon richer far than any other they can receive. Let them see that you love them ; give them no proofs of resent- ment or hostility. So act and speak, that they may see you have not forgotten " the rock from whence you were hewn, and the hole of the pit from which you were digged." Let them see that your " heart's desire and prayer is that they may be saved." Let them see that you will gladly do all you can to serve them, consistently with your duty to God. Let them see that yours is not the zeal of sus- picion, or of ill will, but the zeal of charity ; that of which the apostle speaks so beau- tifully, when he says, it " suffereth long, and is kind ; envieth not ; vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, belie reth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." But let me not be misunderstood. — I do not inculcate zeal for charity hy itself. It is too much the practice in the world at present to wish for charity and peace. But the charity so greatly in vogue is a spurious charity, and not the charity of the gospel of Christ. It is true, indeed, that it " thinketh no €vil ;" but it is also true that it " rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth j''^ — it is charity Vol. I 19 " out of a pure heart, and a good con- science, and of faith unfeigned ;" — it re- gards purity as the object which it is to promote and secure : it is " out of a good conscience," — a conscience renewed — a conscience trembling at God's word — a conscience zealous for his will in all things; and it proceeds from " faith un- feigned,"— faith in the truth of God, on which it places its unalterable reliance. Such is the charity of the gospel ; and under the guidance of this, religious zeal assumes its fairest character, and obtains its greatest success. Very different is the charity of the world ; — all soft and mild, — a forgiving spirit, a good disposi- tion, and a generous hand. They have no charity but that which, from the fear of doing what is disagreeable, looks on the righteous and the wicked with equal complacency ; which, out of kindness to the sinner, encourages, in fact, the sin he has committed; and which, rather than put on a frown which might disturb his happiness, will let him pursue the course of danger ; and which, rather than distress him, will let him go on, provided he goes on smiling and happy, to his ruin ! And so with regard to peace. There is much puling and whining after this in the world. If by any word or action we break in upon the harmony which is only purchased by what is subversive of divine truth ; if we do any thing of this kind, they say directly — " O, all this is very true ; the thing is much to be lamented ; — but do not you kindle war among us ; let us alone — let us abide in peace !" Brethren; this is not the peace of the gospel : it is the peace of delusion — it is the peace of death I This cannot promote the cause of God in your own souls, nor advance the glory of God in the world around. " The wisdom that is from above IS first pure, then peacea&Ze ,■" and we are to " follow peace with all men, and holi- ness ;" and, without these, " no man shall see the Lord." "As for such as turn aside to their crooked ways, the Lord shall lead them forth with the workers of iniquity : but peace shall be upon Israel ;" upon those who seek to do his will, and in whom is no guile. Away, then, with this false peace, and charity, and zeal ! N 146 THE BRITISH PULPIT Be zealous for the truth : "let all your deeds be done in charity," — but remem- ber that truth is the basis on which it should rest. And while you are zealous for peace, let it be in connexion with that truth, without which there can be no peace. Let truth be established; let it be placed on the throne on which it should reign, and then there shall be peace. Then, peace is our watch-word : Peace with all men — peace in all things and peace for ever ! divine revelation There was a time when each revela- tion of the word of God had an introduc- tion into this earth, which neither per- miued men to doubt whence it came, nor wherefore it was sent. If, at the giving of each several truth, a star was not lighted up in heaven, as at the birth of the prince of Truth, there was done upon the earth a wonder, to make her children listen to the message of their Maker. The Almighty made bare his arm, and, through mighty acts shown by his holy servants, gave de- monstration to his truth, and found for it a sure place among the other matters of human knowledge and belief. But now the miracles of God have ceased, and nature, secure and unmo- lested, is no longer called on for testi- monies to her Creator's voice. No burning bush draws the footsteps to his presence-chamber ; no invisible voice holds the ear awake; no hand cometh forth from the obscure to write his pur- pose in letters of flame. The vision is shut up, and the testimony is sealed, and the word of the Lord is ended ; and this solitary volume, with its chapters and verses, is the sura total of all for which the chariot of heaven made so many visits to the earth, and the Son of God himself tabernacled and dwelt among us. The truth which it contains once dwelt undivulged in the bosom of God ; and, on coming forth to take its place among things revealed, the heavens, and the earth, and nature, through all her cham- bers, gave it reverent welcome. Beyond what it reveals, the mysteries of the fu- ture are unknown. To gain it accepta- tion and currency, the noble army of mar- tyrs testified unto the death. The general assembly of the first-born in heaven made it the day-star of their hopes, and the pavilion of their peace. Its every sen- tence is charmed with the power of God, and is powerful to the everlasting salva- tion of souls. — Irving. HORRORS OF WAR. When war is awakened, the judgments of God are abroad in the earth. Thus have we seen to-night a people distin- guished for their religious privileges, for their prosperity, and for their separation from all other nations, devoted to destruc- tion because of their transgressions. Let us learn, that whenever the sword is permitted to devour, it is to chastise the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity. War is horrible in its nature and in its effects. It separates the dearest and the closest connexions of human nature. One battle renders thousandsofwives, widows: thousands of children, fatherless : thou- sands of parents, childless : thousands of spirits ruined beyond redemption ! See, pressing into yonder slippery, impurpled field, throngs of all ages, seeking their own among the dead ! In this disfigured countenance the child discerns with diffi- culty the features of his father. In that mangled body dwelt the spirit which was the prop and the glory of yonder silvery head, now bowed down over it in silent, unspeakable sorrow. There the widow washes the wounds of her husband with her tears. And how few of that dreadful list of slaughtered men were fit to die ! Surely war was let loose upon the world as a curse, in the just anger of God. — Collyer, SERMON XIV. THE IMPORTANCE OF TRUE WISDOM. PREACHED FOR THE PAROCHIAL SUNDAY SCHOOLS, AT ST. BARNABAS, KING SQUARE, ST. Luke's, BY THE RIGHT REV. DR. SUMNER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER. " Take fast hold of instruction ; let her not go : keep her, for she is thy life." — Prov. iv. 13. The contents of this passage show that instruction is not here used for acquisition of knowledge or intellectual enlargement, but that it is synonymous with wisdom, understanding, heavenly teaching. It is introduced in a manner singularly strik- ing and affectionate : " Hear ye children, the instruction of a father, and attend to know understanding. For I give you good doctrine; forsake not my law. For I was my father's son, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother. He taught me also, and said unto me, let thiae heart retain my words; keep my commandments and live. Get wisdom, get understanding, forget it not; wisdom is the principal thing, and, therefore, with all thy getting, get understanding. Take fast hold of instruction ; let her not go ; keep her, for she is thy life." 1. The first thing that strikes the mind on the perusal of this passage, is the ex- treme earnestness which the wise son of David displays in pressing his advice. There is an urgency in his language, which if employed on a subject of less paramount consequence, would be deemed importunate. He recurs again and again in the most forcible terms to his favourite topic, and shoots arrow after arrow at the same mark, that the shafts may not be sped in vain, or launched into the air at a venture. " Get wisdom, get under- standing; forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth ; forsake her not — love her — take fast hold of instruc- tion, let her not go, keep her." This is not the style of some cold advocate, en- forcing with decent seriousness a truth which, though it cannot be gainsayed, is not necessary and indispensable. They are the words of a father who feels that his son's soul is at stake — in danger of perishing for lack of knowledge — irreme- diably lost if it be not led in right paths, and taught in the ways of wisdom. Would that there were such a heart in us in these matters ! Do we feel for our- selves any of this stirring anxiety 1 Are we eagerly watching for the first ray of divine light to illumine the heart of our child — the first stirring of the waters, denoting the presence of the angel of mercy, and the gracious provision of God for healing the diseased soul. Are we pointing to instruction as the essential good which is to be first gotten, and wrestling in prayer for the blessing which is to give it effect 1 Do we look around us, first into the bosom of our own fami- lies, then into that larger circle which God has providentially placed under our influence, or within our reach, to see whether its younger members are child- ren of God — led by his grace — ruled by his will — instructed by his word — living in his fear^ Brethren, we have a heavy responsibility in this respect. Rich and • 147 148 THE BRITISH PULPIT poor, the highest and the lowest, alike incur it. It would be a fearful thing- hereafter, when some poor lost soul shall stand at the bar of God's judgment, to hear him put in the plea of justification — "No man cared for my soul," and then to be conscious that it was we ourselves who withheld from him that blessed knowledge which might have made him wise unto salvation — that it was we who were verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw him groping in the depths of spiritual darkness, and lent him no lamp to guide his feet into the way of life. Our earnestness in the discharge of this duty will doubtless be in propor- tion to our sense of its importance. He who values not his own soul, will unques- tionably have little concern for the souls of others. He who desires not instruc- tion for himself, will not care to impart it to the rising generation around him. Measure your own state, brethren, by this criterion ; try your hearts by this test. None can be indifferent to the eternal welfare of others, but those who have not yet learnt, by the experience of their own individual case, that God desireth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn from his ways and live. 2. The text suggests, secondly, the natural alienation of the heart from in- struction. It does not receive it willingly. It does not retain it, if received, without difficulty. This is strongly intimated by the earnest language of the sacred writer : "Take fast hold of instruction; let her not go ; keep her." That these reiterated counsels are not superfluous, I need not demonstrate. Folly is bound up in the heart of a man. He cleaves to it as to an hereditary pos- session, endeared to his mind, and con- genial to him, and divine grace alone can eradicate the evil. How reluctantly does the understanding submit itself to divine truth I How unwillingly does it surren- der its own preconceived notions and favourite prepossessions. Take, for in- stance, any of the great doctrines of the gospel ; the heart will embrace none of them without a struggle. It disputes, as ' it were, each step of the ground, and yields its conviction, not like a willing convert, but as a vanquished enemy, in- capable of further resistance. Thus it is witli the doctrine of human corruption. The natural man loathes the doctrine, and either disputes it altogether, or qualifies it in such a manner as to make it less un- palatable to the pride of the unrenewed heart. Man is represented as liable to temptation, instead of being prone to evil continually ; weak and infirm of purpose, instead of unable of himself to think or do any good thing; fallen, indeed, and imperfect, but not as our church repre- sents him, in accordance with Scripture, very far gone from original righteousness, and while yet unregenerate, dead in tres- passes and sin. Thus it is with that car- dinal article of belief which has been emphatically denominated the test of a standing or a falling church — ^justification by faith ; we are slow to admit it in all its scriptural integrity ; we embrace it partially, or indistinctly, sometimes vir- tually, though without confessing it; sometimes with an open and distinct avowal, we mix up with the merits of Christ our own supposed works and de- servings, and compile for ourselves an imagmary system, neither law nor gospel, but partaking of both, and enjoying the privileges of neither. So it is also with the doctrines of grace. We naturally look to ourselves, and not to God : we rely on our own innate power, and not on that effusion of spiritual strength which is shed abroad in our hearts through the Holy Ghost. It is not until after repeated experience of our own helplessness and inability that we learn to stay ourselves on an everlasting arm, and are taught the presumptuousness and miserable folly of self-confidence. To correct all false views of this kind is the promise of that instruction of which the text speaks. But suppose it effected, or, in other words, suppose that the Holy Spirit of God, through the medium of the preached or written word, or by a bless- ing upon some other means of grace, has enlightened the heart, and given it a true view of the way of salvation and of God's dealings with mankind, another difficulty arises which renders the energetic lan- guage of the text no Iv'^ss seasonable. THE IMPORTANCE OF TRUE WISDOM. 149 We are disposed to fall from the truth which we have once received, or to cor- rupt its intecrrity, or to waver and be un- stable, carried away with every blast of vain doctrine. We need renewing day by day, lest temptations overcome us, or the love of heavenly things wax cold, or the pleasures, or the cares, or the troubles of the world, make shipwreck of our faith. If the hands flag, as those of Moses, the enemies of our salvation take advantage to prevail against us ; and if the lips cease to worship in prayer, Satan enters into that which should be swept and garnished, fit for the temple of the Holy Ghost, and our last state becomes worse than the first. Hence the wise man's repeated injunction, "Take fast hold of instruc- tion ; let her not go ; keep her." Though she flee thee, yet abide thou in her pur- suit ; though the heart struggle to be freed from her bands, yet suffer not thou its escape ; though the old man within, and the world without, conspire to make her teaching of none effect, yet submit thou thy will, and understanding, and affections, to her influence — " Take fast hold of her ; let her not go ; keep her." 3. The last clause of the text resolves the whole question into a simple and in- telligible proposition. It brings the mat- ter to a point. " Take fast hold of in- struction, .... for she is thy life." Dost thou desire to live — not the life that now is, the transient and ephemeral ex- istence of a corruptible body, which withereth like the grass, and fadeth as a flower — but in that never ending state, when a thousand years will be as one day ? Then take fast hold of instruction — in obtaining her thou hast secured thy object, for she is thy life. And here I may remark the succinct- ness and plainness of Scripture, where the great truths which are necessary to salvation are concerned. " Repent and be converted, and your sins shall be blot- ted out." "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." " By grace are ye saved, through faith." " Take fast hold of instruction, for she is thy life." O that men would listen to the words of the heavenly teacher, which thus strikingly bring home the business of life to men's bosoms! How would the shipwrecked sailor prize a compass in the midst of an unknown ocean ! How would the pilgrim watch the rising of some well remembered star to guide his feet in his wanderings through a trackless wilderness ! How would the fainting traveller be revived in his journey through the desert at the sight of some well of water, springing forth in the midst of rocks and sands, and providing needful relief when the whole head is weary and the whole heart sick ! What the com- pass would be to the sailor, or the star to the pilgrim, or the well of water to the traveller, is the precept in the text to the soul of him that thirsts for divine instruc- tion. Vainly would he wait for direction from other teachers. As there is but one good, so there is but one wise. Would he ask the sensualist what is life ■? He would tell him, " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." Would he ask the covetous manl He would tell him that to lay field to field, and to heap up many good things in store, and to multi- ply the sum of his possessions, — this is life. The ambitious man would tell him that life consisted in the increase of ho- nours— the worldly man in the success of his earthly pursuits and projects — the lover of pleasure in the satisfaction of his heart's desire, and in drinking to the dregs the cup which seems so sweet to his dis- ordered palate. But the language of Scripture is very different. " To be car- nally-minded is death." " He that liveth in pleasure is dead while he liveth." On the other hand, "Take fast hold of in- struction— for she is thy life." " I Wis- dom dwell with prudence — whoso findeth me, findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord." There is, indeed, in that word life, a comprehensiveness which ccmveys the fulness of joy to the penitent soul. When the heart has been roused to a knowledge of its danger in an unrenewed state, and the sinner sees for the first time the pre- cipice on which he stands — judgment before him, pollution and guilt in all his actions, and no mediator to stand between himself and his offended God — the whole impossibility of atoning for his sin, or of n2 150 THE BRITISH PULHT. making satisfaction for the past, is pressed with awful conviction on his mind. The final consequences of ungodliness are opened to his view. He sees written upon the wall, in .characters as distinct as those which terrified the court of King Belshazzar, " the wages of sin is death." What would be the state of such a man without the gospel 1 Those deep and searching convictions of sin, which, under the teaching of the Holy Spirit are rendered so salutary to the soul, would lead to nothing but despair, with- out an acquaintance with the Saviour. That bitter repentance which makes the sinner loathe himself, and humbles his proud heart even in dust and ashes, would be hopeless and unedifying, if there were no knowledge of that fountain opened for sin and uncleanness, wherein whosoever washeth, though his sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow — though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. But how is the scene changed, where the lips of the preacher of peace has delivered his gracious mes- sage. Let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely. " I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live." " He that hath the Son hath life." This is indeed instruction which brings peace : it first abases the soul, and then purifies it; it teaches the nothingness of all earthly confidence, and the insufficiency of hope resting on an arm of flesh, and then brings the inquiring penitent to him who is able and willing to save, and will in no wise cast out whosoever cometh to the Father through him. " Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." After what has been said, brethren, you will not doubt that it is chiefly on the ground of its religious advantages, that I am desirous of seeing that institution for which I am desired to plead, receive your cordial support. In so populous a parish as this, I need not tell you that it is im- possible for the steward of Christ's mys- teries, who, in the providence of God, has been placed over you, to extend his pri- Tate ministrations into the family of each of the poorer members of his flock. And yet the greater the difficulty, — I should rather have said, the impracticability of such individual superintendence, — the more urgent is the necessity fbr it, the more prejudicial the want of it. We all know what scenes of vice are found in the crowded streets and lanes of too many a district round us — the temptations which are spread for every age — the pe- culiar dangers to which the young, and those of the poorer class more especial!)'^, are hourly exposed. It is a fearful thought to reflect how many perish for lack of knowledge, even in a Christian land — how many souls are lost through that brutish ignorance, whicli is the pa- rent of every sin. To one who feels these things deeply, who has a compassion for perishing sinners, and longs to see them rescued from their perilous state, it is, indeed, a comfort to know that there are Christian houses opened, and Christian teachers at hand, who will train up a child in the way he should go, and lead him, while yet a little one, to the feet of Jesus. Not that I would be understood to infer that all these poor children, who are the objects of this charity, are indeed taught of God, or that they have all chosen, through divine grace, that better part which those embrace, who have taken fast hold of instruction. No, bre- thren ; this would be much to expect ; and experience, I fear, would be far from warranting such a conclusion. But I trust we may hope, that there will be found among them many a Lydia, whose heart the Lord has opened, and who has attend- ed to the things that have been spoken unto her. I trust there are not wanting among them, those who love the Lord Jesus Christ, and who have learnt to know the value of his salvation, and the preciousness of his promises. If there be but one such, what a glorious reward would that one soul be, for all the self- denial, all the labours of love, by which you will contribute, according to your means, to support, and, I trust, to perpetu- ate, this useful charity in this populous neighbourhood. Bear with me, brethren, if I press this duty on you in a manner somewhat more urgent than is usual. I cannot forget HOW TO READ THE BIBLE. 151 that It was in this very place where we are now assembled, that I was first called upon to exercise my episcopal functions, by setting apart this building for a temple to the Lord, where his word might be preached, and praise and supplication might be offered in the name of Christ. It was here that for the first time I sepa- rated, in virtue of my office, from all pro- fane and common uses, this house, as a house of prayer for worshippers in spirit and in truth. Nor have I had small plea- sure in learning that the Sunday-school which has been since connected with this church, and for which I plead this day, appears to have been favoured, in an emi- nent degree, with the divine blessing. To many of those who hear me, its ad- vantages are doubtless known personally. Some, I trust, there are, who have be- come acquainted with them more inti- mately in their capacity of teachers. I would bid them go on in their labour of love, with patient and steady zeal, in the name of the Lord. I would call on others who are like minded to come and do like- wise— to lend their aid in the furtherance of this interesting work, and to be fellow- labourers in preparing the hearts of the young, through divine grace, for the spiritual harvest. May He who is the Lord of the harvest, prosper the under- taking! May he bless the means pro- vided, whether by your personal teaching, or by your pecuniary contributions, with a rich and abundant increase. THE SPIRIT IN WHICH THE BIBLE SHOULD BE READ. Consult it divested so far as possible of prejudice, and with a sincere desire both to attain improvement and to search out the truth. The investigation which we recommend, lies equally between that inactivity which slumbers for ever over things acknowledged, and that impetuous temerity which relying on its own pow- ers disdains assistance, attempts a flight beyond the precincts of lawful subjects, and with licentious boldness pries into those "secret things which belong to God." Some float for ever on the surface of admitted truths, fearful to rise above the level over which they have hovered from the first moment of consciousness. These resemble those birds which feed upon the insects dancing on the water, who never rise into the air, but always skim the surface of the lake, on the bor- ders of which they received life. Others, on bold, adventurous wing, rise into the trackless regions of mystery, till they sink from the pride of their elevation,, perplexed and exhausted. Thesp, by aiming at too much, lose every thing Because they have attempted unsuccess fully to investigate that, which God has been pleased to put out of .the reach of human comprehension, they will not be- lieve any thing — thej' embrace a system of universal scepticism. So Noah's dove beheld on every side a boundless expan- sion of waters : and whether she rose or sunk, was equally bewildered, and found no rest for the sole of her foot. There is one point of difference, and that is, that she returned to the ark; but those whom we have described, too often are found to turn despisers, who wonder and perish. But the Christian is bold in investigating all that God has submitted to his re- searches, attempts every thing leaning on Almighty energy, and relies with im- plicit confidence upon the written word. So the eagle rises boldly into the air, keeping the sun in view, and builds her nest upon a rock. We would not have you, with the in- active and supine, always coast the shore: nor with the infidel venture into the boundless ocean, without pilot, or com- pass, or ballast, or anchor : exposed equally to the quicksands, to the rocks, to the whirlpool, and to the tempest : but we are desirous that, like the Christian, you should boldly face, and patiently endure the storm, with the Bible as your compass, hope as your anchor, God as your pilot, and heaven as your country. — Dr. Collyer. SERMON XV. THE TRUE USE OF KNOWLEDGE. BY THE REV. E. IRVING, A.M. "Add to knowledge, temperance. — 2 Peter i. 6. There is nothing to which men require to have their eyes opened more than to the folly of admiring knowledge upon its own account. They look upon all sorts of book-making and book-learning as the stamp of superiority, and give to it an instinctive reverence ; whereas, books are but the words of men, and may as often be termed folly as declared wisdom, and may promote vice as readily as serve vir- tue. And he that hath written a book, hath but offered himself to our acquaint- ance, but hath made no advancement in our approbation. And bookish men, that is, those who accumulate an immensity of knowledge and learning, which neither nourisheth themselves nor edifieth others, are objects of pity, not of admiration ; being in mind what those are in body who have gathered on themselves a load, burdensome to themselves, and unplea- sant to beholders. And until the good sense of men doth discriminate amongst learned men as it doth amongst unlearned men, the learned will continue to assume to themselves that importance and pride which more than countervails their supe- rior knowledge, and brings them into a state less favourable for spiritual advance- ment than the ignorant vulgar. So in our Saviour's time, the wise and prudent could not understand that which was plain to babes ; because the learned, in the sufficiency of their knowledge, could not stoop to spiritual things. For the same reason, they scorned Paul in the Areopagus, as if he had been a prating fool : whence he testified that their very 152 knowledge had made them ignorant of God, and deaf to the invitations of the gospel. Now, being convinced knowledge in this age produceth the same effects of swaying the mind out of that humility which is essential to the learning of Christ — that this is the true reason why your men of knowledge keep so much aloof from the simple doctrines of the cross, it hath seemed good to our minds to examine this a little, and to ascertain by what means those here present may be guarded from increasing their pride with their knowledge, and how they may promote their wisdom as they increase their knowledge. In which undertaking, to divest knowledge of an honour which it doth not merit, in order that we may, with Solomon, transfer it to wisdom, we feel as if we were entering in to despoil a holy place, r or knowledge, albeit much abused, is a pure and holy possession compared with every other of which we can boast. Beauty fades, strength lan- guisheth and fame is inconstant as the veering winds; fortune changeth every moment, and riches take to themselves wings and flee away like an eagle towards heaven ; the appetites all grow dull, the eye grows dim, and the ear deaf to dulcet sounds, and all things ebb and flow, and are lost and soon forgotten. But know- ledge ! — knowledge almost defies these changes and fluctuations to which all human possessions are doomed. It is a thing so purely one's own ; it doth so defy the power of man to take it from us ; it THE TRUE USE OF KNOWLEDGE. 153 (loth 30 forecast in the mind, and procre- ate itself independent of all power and strength of man ; and it can so little be bought with money, or be by a royal road approached ; and it so inhabiteth the mind within, and defieth the world without; and it is so little subject to the fluctua- tions of fortune, and the wasting power of time ; it is on all hands in so much re- quest— so necessary to the illustration of things old, and to the propagation of things new, to the prosecution of enter- prise, to the administration of government, and the practice of every art; knowledge is so eagerly sought after by every power which striveth for the mastery in human affairs, — governors seeking men of know- ledge to write them into favour, and their opponents seeking men of knowledge to write them out of favour; and the vender of every ware seeking men of knowledge to exalt its praise ; and even every amusement, except bear garden and prize- fighting barbarities, being upheld by knowledge, and every projected measure adrocated by knowledge : — these, the accomplishments of knowledge, are so splendid, its advantages so manifold, that it seems ignorance not to adore, and pro- fanation to decry it. Then, moreover, knowledge doth so beget in those who possess it, such fortitude and firmness of mind ; it so arms him around with divine armour — even like the goddess of know- ledge whom the ancients fabled to have sprung ready armed from the forehead of Jove — so that a man of knowledge seems as great in rags, as a man of power, or a prince in his castle. Adversity cannot crush the man of knowledge ; the con- tempt of man cannot abash him, and the threats of man cannot force him to recant ; — he retires to his secret place, and sum- mons in his spiritual counsellors ; he ex- amines, he writes, he justifies himself, he publisheth to the world, and all his enemies are at once confounded ; or if they wish to make head against him, they must seek men of knowledge, for it can be overthrown by nothing but itself. Then again, knowledge is the mother of art and beauty : knowledge is the hand- maiden, (if I may so speak,) who attireth the charms of nature, if not the mother Vol-. I 20 of whom nature holdeth her chiefest charms. So that all which beautifies the face of the country, with all which makes the city magnificent — all that adorns our dwellings, with all that makes our per- sons comely to look upon — all that fills the market-place with wares, and varies the occupation of human life, are the works of knowledge, without which men were a few scattered tribes of roving savages, fighting with brutal creatures for the mastery of the woods and caves where they dwell. Ay, and though every thing we now behold were swept with the besom of destruction, nature stript of her decorations, and art divested of her resources, there is such a life-giv- ing power in this immortal faculty of knowledge, that she would, in a few years, bring again the beauties of nature, and re-invent the resources of art, and cover the earth with her beautiful flowers and pleasant palaces. Knowledge is the support of greatness, which otherwise would die with the age that gave it birth. And a good book of former ages is a treasure which the inter- vening time hath striven in vain to stifle ; it hath survived the things which were brought into existence along with it; and if it be a good book, it hath the proba- bility of living to an unlimited age. In short, there is no end to the praises of knowledge. These excellent qualities and manifold powers of knowledge, God hath endowed it withal, in order that men may fall in love with it, and pursue it; and being properly applied, it constitutes wisdom. But knowledge is not wisdom of itself; nay, knowledge does not imply the prac- tice of godliness or of morals : it doth not imply even the existence of the common decencies of life. For knowledge and learning in the greatest plenty may dwell with wickedness and folly. A man may be familiar with all the truths of science — he may be held a consummate master, and even discover fresh truths, and invent new methods of discovering truth, and yet he may be a mere novice in the ful- filment of the duties which every one born into the world is called by his Ma- ker to enjoy. He may be learned in all 154 THE BRITISH PULPIT. erudition, and well versed in all the records of antiquity, and yet never ac- quaint his principles with true knowledge. As there are many handicrafts in the world, in which a man may reach the highest excellence without improving his morals or religion, so in the world of intellect or science, there are many departments in which men may stand unrivalled, without being advanced in any one of the attributes of a worthy or noble mind. He may be the first of wits, and the worst of husbands. He may be the first of scholars, and the most dissi- pated of men. He may be the most enter- taining of travellers, and the most heart- less of friends. He may be the first of poets, and a very ruffian in civilized society. He may be the finest moralist, and the greatest profligate — the writer of the finest sentiments, and not possessed of household feeling. I have met first-rate mathematicians who were, in all moral perception, like creatures of the vegetable kingdom. Naturalists have I met with, who appeared to soar above a good and glorious action, but would have died con- tented with the occupation of their lives, could they have discovered some plant, or some insect, not discoverable by the natural vision of man. And there are men who spend their lives in arranging cabinets, and deciphering ancient manu- scripts, without seeing any thing worthy of pursuit or admiration, or doing any thing to extend their pursuits, in the present or eternal world. It is not our intention to ridicule any one of these pursuits in themselves ; for there is not any one of these pursuits of science and learning from which good hath not accrued in the end. But it is our intention to show,that stores of knowledge may be acquired in them, the highest elevation may be reached in them, with- out any approximation to wisdom, with- out improving the spirit of the character, so as to make it better fitted for the office of the life that now is, and of that which is to come. These are handicrafts of the intellect, if we may so speak, and those who apply to them are handicraftsmen : and you have a good reason to infer that a man is wise and noble because he is good in working iron, or brass, or wood, in making cloth or apparel, as that a man is wise, or good, or praiseworthy, because he is good in ancient or modern literature, or because he is great in the knowledge of the three kingdoms of nature, skilled in the art of criticism, or erudite in the history of the world. There is a blind admiration of science and learning on its own account, upon which it builds a self-importance, and which affects disdain toward the honest mechanical occupations of life. But surely, if the blinds were taken off from the private life, and mutual intercourse, and public character of these learned men, they would be found as empty of great- ness, far more full of envy, and deception, and hypocrisy, than those honest callings they affect to despise. Ay, if the morals of a university, or the quarrels of litera- ture, or the pitiful vanity and self-com- placency of these sciolists in knowledge, were exhibited, it would be as shameful a picture as ever knowledge hath sketched from the market town, or the inmost re- cesses of the city. But far, far from us be the vulgar office of satirizing any thing, especially a thing of which we think and have spoken so highly as we have of knowledge. But it is our part to show how it stands related to wisdom — how it is inferior to wisdom, and how it may be converted into wisdom, and is not wor- thy of the approbation of men until con- verted into wisdom. Wisdom without knowledge — there is and can be none : all thought without knowledge, is but guessing: all conduct without knowledge, is but a venture. Hence, in Scripture, knowledge stands in a high place. " This is life eternal, to know me the true God." Amongst the ancients, " Know thyself," was the first step to wisdom ; and, in common affairs, a knowledge of the world is de- servedly placed above all other know- ledge. But knowledge of God is not religion, neither is a knowledge of the world upright dealing; something else is required. Knowledge doth but furnish out wisdom, being the light which guides us to the storehouse which supplies it Wisdom is knowledge applied to right THE TRUE USE OF KNOWLEDGE. 155 and wholesome uses. Riches do not make a liberal-minded or generous man, although riches are necessary to contri- bute to a generous man. But if riches be pursued from a mere love of accumu- lation, wiiich is not very frequent — if riches be pursued from a love of gratifi- cation or evil tastes, which is very fre- quent— or if riches be pursued for the sake of influence, which is far more fre- quent— then they do not make a liberal- minded or generous man. So the appetite for knowledge may lead into many direc- tions away from wisdom ; and therefore it becomes necessary, while you acquire knowledge, to weigh the ends for which you are acquiring it. There is a love of knowledge for its own sake which should be encouraged. The mind hath a dislike of ignorance, as the eye hath of darkness, oi»the limbs of confinement. The mind loves to look on the lightof truth, and to roam in the free- dom of its faculties. This is especially the case in the beginning of our years, and it is appointed for the best ends. As children will not be at rest, but, by cease- less motion, nobody knows for what ends, acquire the ready use of all their limbs ; so the mind in youth, by an innate restlessness, tries itself in every way, and ought no more to be hindered than the body ought to be confined. Educa- tion should be to the mind what exer- cise is to the body — an instrument for developing its powers; and, therefore, for many years, various food should be presented to the mind — some to the fancy, some to the memory, some to the judg- ment, much to affection, and much to piety. And so that a child is actively employed in putting forth its abilities, it is not then so necessary studiously to direct it to any end ; but by-and-by, when a measure of strength hath been acquired, both of body and mind, as the strength of the body is directed to some labour, so the strength of the mind should be direct- ed to some useful end. Now it is, that knowledge begins to be the servant of wisdom, or the servant of va- nity, or the servant of ambition, or the ser- vant of wealth, according as you use it. If it be pursued in order to get a name among the learned, then knowledge is degraded to be the servant of vanity. If it be pursued in order to use authority and power, then knowledge is degraded to be the servant of ambition. If it be pursued to come at place, pension, or reward, then it is most of all degraded to be the servant of mam- mon. It may serve pleasure also, and doth most frequently serve pleasure in your pursuit of books and entertaining discourse. But to make it serviceable to the ends of wisdom is a most noble and difficult undertaking, which it is our part, by God's help, now to set forth. As wisdom consisteth in the promotion of our own well-being, and the well-being of other men, the desire of knowledge, it seems to me, should be prompted by the feeling of our own unhappiness : that is, our want of well-being, and the sight of unhappiness around us. And of these two, I give the preference to the former — the well-being and unhappiness of our- selves. As far as the soul of man can reach, it is a rule, that every evil, whether in body or in mind, hath a remedy, if that remedy can be found. To find it out is the pro- vince of knowledge. Whatever evils, therefore, pursue us, let us gain know- ledge to remove them. For the evils of the body there is a class of men to pro- vide the cure, to whom it is better to trust than to seek for ourselves. Law, again, looks to the evils which come to our out- v/ard estate. But every one is left to find out for himself remedies for the evils which afilict his soul, his inward man. Let each man, therefore, look into him- self, and see from what quarter unhappi- ness invades him : let him, by knowledge, find out the remedy ; and having found it out, let him apply it. Then knowledge becometh wisdom. Next, let a man look around him on the unhappiness of others, beginning with those who most nearly concern himself; and extending as far outward as his time and fellow-feeling will go. Let him direct his faculties how he may remedy those evils which afflict his brethren; then let him apply the remedies which his knowledge hath discovered. This, also, is wisdom. When a man hath removed the evils that 156 THE BRITISH PULPIT. afflict himself, and done his endeavour to remove those which afflict the men in his neighbourhood ; then let him see by what means he can increase his spiritual en- joyment, and the spiritual enjoyment of those around him. Let him acquire and apply this knowledge, and then all his knowledge will be wisdom. As the knowledge you have, or may acquire, both from the word of God and other quarters, is the noblest thing you call your own, if it be turned to these accounts which I have set before you ; so it is the most vain, the most proud, the most domineering, and I may add, the most unhappy of all your possessions, if not employed in rectifying the diseases of your soul and your condition, and the souls and conditions of others. There is not a character under the sun so despica- ble as the man who sets out with the in- tention of making his knowledge a step- ping stone to fortune and favour — to live by his iviis, as it is termed — to honour the tastes and foibles of the public mind. It is a base calling, the basest of all callings ; and it hath upon the mind that is given up to it, the most degrading effects. It is a most degrading traffic, inasmuch as the humours which it studies, and the prejudices to which it ministers, be not in the petty accommodations of the out- ward man, but in the opinion of the in- ward man, which determines not only our present, but our future destiny. It doth set up to sale, conscience, integrity, and counsel, and all the high moral and intellectual endowments of •the mind, which, like the gift of God desired by Simon the sorcerer, cannot be purchased •with money ; and it is sacrilege to steal them. If we would avoid as a tainted man — if we would sequester from the common charities of life the abandoned wretch, who, for a bribe, in a public court, hath sworn the liberty or life of a fellow man — tell me, what form or measure of detestation and abhorrence doth that man merit, who, in bearing his witness before the great tribunal of the world, doth for a higher bribe suppress and falsify the knowledge and the convictions of truth which God hath implanted in his soul — doth so to the enslaving of the common mind, and to the perishing of the eternal life, not of one, but of thousands 1 Ah ! little better is the man who makes his knowledge, his divine knowledge, a stepping stone to distinction, and who cannot proceed onward, unless he hath a crowd of admirers to applaud him. Such a man is preparing for himself, sooner or later, a bed of thorns — he is making of himself a butt for others to aim their shafts at ; and many a venomous shaft of satire and. censure shall stick sore in his Icins before he reach the much courted place. This is degradation. His life will be jarring and contentious, his peace broken, his character laid bare, his pri- vacy invaded, his quarrels set before the world : he shall have no mercy from his competitors, and shall find no sympathy from the spectators of the fray. And if he reacheth the courted seat, it is not till his temper is soured by competition, when he is fit only to play the tyrant, and not to enjoy his place. Knowledge hath a state, a prerogative on which she needeth not to insist. Her state is to walk surrounded by contem- plation, calmness, and truth ; her preroga- tive is to dispel prejudice and ignorance; and her deference is the noblest gratitude of those whom we have brought out of darkness into light. These are the pro- per state, and prerogative, and homage of knowledge ; but for a man of knowledge to claim and sue for external marks of honour is to cast the crown of glory from his head, and to humble himself into a mere man of power; it is to exchange the ethereal nature of his calling, for the vul- gar attributes of place and of office. Nay, nothing will bear the character of a wise man up — nothing will set the possessor of knowledge in a state impregnable to all his enemies, and honourable to him- self— nothing but that he hath an eye to his own deliverance from evil ; and not his own alone, but of the whole world. Let us take the gain and honour which flow in upon us, and pray to God for economy to use the gain, and humility to bear the honour. But never, never let the man of knowledge deal out the trea- sures of his mind at the bidding of a pur- chaser, lest he sell over to his earthly THE TRUE USE OF KNOWLEDGE. 157 part that intellectual and spiritual part whereby he holds on heaven. Neither let men whose gifts and accomplishments are imperfections, and whose highest honour and ambition is to be humble, court preference when they consider of what weak and sinful creatures they are the brothers. Let a man pursue wisdom and help his brother out of his sins and imperfections, and then he shall con- stantly be moved on by the sight of their imperfections, and rewarded by the feel- ing of their imperfections removed. He dwelleth not on what he hath done, but on what remaineth to be accomplished. He looks not on the things that are be- hind, but on the things that are before. His reading, his thoughts, his conversa- tions, are all bent to know his imperfec- tions, to find out a remedy, and to disco- ver the cure ; and the remedy is no sooner found, than he endeavoureth to apply it — and so knowledge becomes wisdom. Therefore, men and brethren, I entreat each one of you, that whatever knowledge any one possesseth at present (and there is no one without a large store of know- ledge compared with total ignorance) — we exhort you to convert that knowledge into wisdom, by devoting it to the remo- val of the evils and troubles which afflict ourselves. Consider yourselves on all sides ; observe where you are afflicted. Each one will find a number of evils under which he is groaning, and whereby he is disgraced. Apply this knowledge to the removal of wicked habits, such as swearing, and lying, and drunkenness, and chambering and hypocrisy. There is no one of you so untutored as not to know the remedy for these things. The deliverance cometh from the Spirit and word of God, by the use of those means of prevention which God hath put within our reach. Then use this knowledge and you shall be wise — use it not, and you shall be twice condemned ; according to that saying of Jesus Christ, "If I had not come and spoken unto them they had not had sin, but now they have no cloak for their sin." Whosoever, then, is so afflicted with wicked propensities (which are the dis- eases of the soul) should apply to the Lord for strength, and to the word of the Lord for knowledge ; and he should keep himself what he can from every occasion of ofl!ence : he should part company from the profligate, idle, and profane, and com- pany with the most honest men he can find : he should banish all books which cover such vices with the gloss of senti- mental imagery, or the glory of splendid success ; he should form acquaintance with the writings of noble men, of virtu- ous men, and of religious men ; and he should inquire after such treatises as may beget a love, and encourage a pursuit of thiflgs lovely, and of good report. So, by diligence, he will convert the know- ledge of the remedies of his diseases into the cure of those diseases, and so grow into the condition of a wise man. For being clear of youthful lusts, which war against the soul, you should suffer fear from a fretful, inquiet temper of irrita- bility, of sensitiveness from pride hum- bled, from vanity mortified, from ambition beaten back, from policy outwitted, or expectations defeated. Then you know the remedy, the only remedy, that is in putting your fractious rebel nature into discipline of God. You know that reli- gion should be to the thoughts within the breast, what the queen bee is to the hive — their parent and their mistress ; for upon the loss of religion, as upon the loss of the queen bee, there ensueth wild disorder and troubles — no stirring in- dustry— no security of abiding couosel ; but on the contrary, certainty of discord and desolation. Now, I shall not say that every one knoweth that religion hath such virtues over the troubled breast; but of this 1 am sure, many there be present who both know and are convinced of it, and do yet turn their knowledge to no account of wisdom or of happiness, by regulating themselves according thereto. Those who have fear of their double punishment in sinning against light and the peace of their troubled spirit, I charge not thus to abuse their precious information ; for which information heathen lands cry in vain to heaven with the voice of all their sufferings, and of all their sorrows. Oh! that men would forego their la- O 158 THE BRITISH PULPIT mentations over fortune, and hope, and worldly happiness, sliipwrecked in this unhappy world ; and plucking from their bosom the key of knowledge, which rust- eth there unused, would apply it, in the strength of God, to unlock the gates of immortality and blessedness. Then it should come to pass that the kingdom of heaven would bring all things in its train —hope for better things that would brighten over the darkness of present loss- es— ambition, heavenly ambition, would fire the heart to the quest of immortal crowns and everlasting thrones ; and the voice of self-approbation, sweeter than the shouts of an applauding people, would make all joyful within the breast ; and all the roughness of temper would sweeten and soften under the keeping of a good and happy heart ; and out of ruins a tem- ple would arise, with songs of ever- lasting joy. The knowledge that religion hath such a powerful wand to regenerate abject nature withal, lieth, I say, in many a wounded and sorrowful breast — it lieth unremembered, it lieth unblest ; even as the key of promise lay in the bosom of Hopeful, while he and Christian were confined in the dungeons of Doubting castle. And if, like him, you will pluck it forth, and use it for your salvation, be assured that nothing more would remain to set you at liberty from the bondage of all such troubles. There are many here present, I am sure, who feel oppressed with the grievances of disappointment and unrest; but not acting from this remedy which resides in the gospel of Jesus Christ, they seek their refuge in idle reading, or in laughter creating amusement, or in gay and flaunt- ing vanity in the world of fashion and of taste. Oh, brethren ! these do but cheat the short time, they do but chase the im- pending waves ; even as the mariners, when the leak is making, and the ocean is sucking down the ship the wretched men, bursting control, hasten to kill thought with intoxication to the wild dance of terror. Away, away, from these the worldly cures — they are no remedy. Away, away, with gay company — away with levity — away with boisterous wit, and ridicule, and contempt of what is gi-ave and thoughtful ! These are the opiate draughts which, being persisted in, bring on rugged disease, and plant de- spair. Take to counsel, take to ministry of counsel ; talk to the world about you : learn and discover where peace and con- tentment have their dwellings — where wretchedness and misery have their howl- ing abodes. Gather knowledge from facts around you ; see where quiet even- ings and healthful mornings shine — (not with midnight dance and morning revels) — go round and see — take not my word for it — go round and see where hollow- heartedness dwells, and foul pretence, and where puppetry of human nature hold its range. You shall find it to be where religion, and wisdom, and gravity have been hooted out of doors. These guardian angels of men must be banished first, and honest sentiment must learn to hide its head in shame ; solemn truth must be thrust down into the earth ; the name of God must be taught to turn agist, or to deepen an execration, or to fill up the frequent chasms of poverty-stricken discourse, before these gay allurements can be got up, to which the world in its wisdom carries a dejected countenance, stricken mortally. Whenever these scenes occur to you, brethren, read for their cure and removal. Get knowledge — search the word of God — dig the wells of knowledge — beat the fields of knowledge for a remedy. Rest not till you have found diseases like your own, brought under by the chief physi- cian. For this, let libraries be ransacked — not for light and airy speculations, which, however graceful, yield no happi- ness— which, however amusing, afford no spiritual gain. Be at charges with your soul as with your body. If any pain seize your body, you straightway submit to confinement, to pain, and to cruel operations. But when the mind languisheth, when the mind is deformed by unseemly vice, which we strive to hide, and which is odious to our own thoughts, we seek for no medicine, we consult no mail's skill in spiritual cures ; but we give ourselves up to random in- fluence, yea, rush into the snare where we caught the foul infection, as if we THE EXECUTIONER'S TRUMPET. 159 loved what we hated, and delighted in what cost us sorrow. It is shameful to see how the know- ledge that appertains to our peace lies in our mind like nursery tales, despised and disregarded. Christian men have secrets to convert earth into heaven, and to oc- cupy the soul with the enjoyment of hea- ven. Christian men have secrets to chase away every form of evil that assails us from the deep beneath, and unbinds us from every carnal and earthly passion, to people the soul with thoughts of the world to come, and to make the wilder- ness of human life to rejoice and blossom as the rose. But these secrets are post- poned by every transient current story, to every idle romance, to the wildest fancies, and to the wickedest wit. They are to the ear like waste sounds ; they that utter them must season them with something savory, with something harmonious and melodious, in order that they might find acceptance. And the book that holds them lies as a sable messenger of guilty tidings. Meanwhile, the song of sweet sentiment, and the voluptuous poem are hung over with delight; and the dramatic tale is devoured, and the story of ancient times is unrolled, and the daily sheet of news is reached with hungry impatience, and every form of knowledge within the limits of fancy and folly hath a joyful welcome. And what serveth merry songs ! — what serve adventures of unreal stories ] — what serve all the paltry acci- dents and incidents of political and fashionable life 1 " They while the time away." Do not be afraid of that, it will soon come to an end. They give the seal to knowledge, they kindle party feuds, and awaken hell within the breast of a man ; and they sport away the spirit of a man with dreams and fantasies, of which, though he live a thousand years, he shall never realize one. Oh, what a sight, if with one consent we sought into the troubles of our spirit, and gave ourselves to reason, and think- ing, and conversation, in order to amend one another; every one dwelling at home in his own breast — every one inhaling stores of vital knowledge to purify and awaken his spiritual life! How wise, how worthy should we become by the grace of the Spirit of God ! How sincere were our intercourse — how frank our communications — how close our commu- nion with God — how constant our appli- cation to the treasures of his wisdom and grace! Do let me advise you, fellow Christians and fellow men, to take this subject into your serious thought, and to make your present knowledge instru- mental to your peace by acting thereon ; to select your books with a desire to grow in the image of God, and shine in the beauty of holiness. Then shall you in- crease in wisdom as you increase in years, and pass your life in blessedness, and become, when you depart, as the angels of God, whom you shall know even as they are known. THE executioner's TRUMPET. Jerome used to say, that it seemed to him as if the trumpet of the last day was always sounding in his ears, saying, " Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment." The generality, however, think but little of this awful and important period. A Christian king of Hungary, being very sad and pensive, his brother, who was a gay courtier, was desirous of knowing the cause of his sadness. " Oh, brother," said the king, " I have been a great sin- ner against God, and know not how to die, or how to appear before God in judg- ment !" His brother, making a jest of it, said, " These are but melancholy thoughts." The king made no reply; but it was the custom of the country, that if the executioner came and sounded a trumpet before any man's door, he was presently led to execution. The king, in the dead of night, sent the executioner to sound the trumpet before his brother's door ; who hearing it, and seeing the mes- senger of death, sprang into the king's presence, beseeching to know in what he had offended. " Alas I brother," said the k-ing, "you have never offended me. And is the sight of my executioner so dread- ful, and shall not I, who have greatly offended, fear to be brought before the judgment-seat of Christ^" SERMON XVI. THE APPROPRIATION AND INFLUENCE OF REVEALED TRUTH. BY REV. JOHN ANDERSON. " The secret things belong unto the Lord our God : but the things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law." — Deut. xsix. 29. The desire of knowledge is natural to the human soul ; it is implanted within man by his almighty Creator: but, as it is in the hands of a finite and de- praved creature, it may be perverted, and ought to be directed. By setting bounds to this desire, God maintained his do- minion over man ; by exciting this desire, I the tempter succeeded to allure man from I G^d, and ultimately destroyed his peace. While, however, we are allowed to seek after knowledge, it becomes neces- sary that we should be kept within due limits ; especially as man seems disposed to carry his pursuits beyond those limits. It cannot, surely, appear unreasonable, that Jehovah should have his arcana — that there should be a region into which he retires in his own sovereignty — a re- gion into which no finite mind can pene- trate, though it is confessedly full of the most interesting objects. The history of our nature has divulged the sad fact, that man does not approve of a restraint like this. He would trench the sacred enclo- sure of Deity, and invade the prerogative of heaven. This, however, is not to be tolerated ; for as " the secret things belong unto God," we should aim to submit our minds to this economy. And let us aim to do this. God does us no harm by this arrangement; we sustain no injury. God has manifested his mercy, by revealing i' to us subjects which are more suited to our capacities, and concealing only those which we cannot comprehend. We ex- pose ourselves to imminent danger, while we step over the line between what is limited and what is allowed. Such were the views entertained by a prophet of God, who well knew what was in human nature. He saw this spirit stirring in man; he beheld it rising in opposition to the will of God ; and he meets this dis position, and says, " The secret things be- long unto the Lord our God." My brethren, I solicit an interest in your prayers, that God's blessing may be upon us while I appear before you to ad- vocate the cause of mankind ; for, says my text, " Aose things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law." Waving, then, as we ought to do, the consideration of the things that be- long to God, let us attend to our own rights. Let us regard, first, their charac- ter; and secondly, the validity of our claims to them. First, Let us attend to the charac- ter OF OUR RIGHTS. " The things that are revealed." This was originally spoken of that portion of truth which was at that time committed to the Jews. But as that outline of truth ' \ is more than filled up in the gospel, we I need not apologize for applying it to the whole system of truth and grace which I is made known to us in the gospel of i Jesus Christ. They are called ^^ revealed things." I love this designation ; for, 1. It conducts us to the mysterious na- ture of our rights. They are revealed things ; they ^are^ not the result of human jeasonings, however deeply pursued— however long continued. They are re- 160 REVEALED THINGS. 161 vealcd things ; tliing-s, therefore, of a di- vine and mysterious nature. Now, they are called " the purposes of God ;'' then, ♦' the mystery of his w ill :" at one time, " tlie deep things of God ;" at another, " the will of (jod :'' and again, " the wis- dom of God in a mystery." Paul, when speaking of it, gives us this compre- hensive summary of its nature : — " How- beit, we speak wisdom among them that are perfect : yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought : but we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom, which God ordained be- fore the world unto our glory, which none of the princes of this world knew ; for had they known it, they Avould not have crucified the Lord of glory. But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. But God hath re- vealed them unto us by his Spirit : for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God." Now this should ever be understood by us as constituting a fair character of the things that are revealed ; that they were the proceeds of the infinite intelligence of Deity — that they are sur- rounded by ineffable grandeur and myste- rious glory — that they come forth to us, not as the results of human reason — that they are revealed to us in infinite mercy by God himself — made known to man, who else must have groped in darkness, and have perished for ever. And this character of revealed things applies to every part of gospel truth. If we look at the being and attributes of God — a trinity in unity — the God-man Mediator — his sacrifice and atonement — the effects of faith in that atonement — the doctrine of a future resurrection — and all, in fact, that is called revelation — we shall see how much they are above the level of mere human intellect, how truly they are styled the mysterious things of God, and how evidently they all bear the mark and character of divinity. " The things that are revealed!" Hove this designation; because, 2. It marks our religious immunities in the glory of their manifestation If Vol. I.— 21 they be revealed, let us remember that God only could reveal them ; and he has. They are truly revealed, or manifested things. The world has been the scene of divine manifestations from the begin- ning. The Bible is a history of mani- festations. Faithful men have been raised up from time to time, for the express pur- pose of making known the will of God. There is nothing which man knows about God — nothing in reference to his present condition, or his future state — nothing which respects the great salvation — no- thing which is dear to us, as sinners — but what has been communicated to us by God himself, from the beginning until now. This revelation began with the first m.an; it travelled down through a variety of dispensations ; and at length it was perfected in the everlasting gospel, according to that memorable record — " God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in times past unto the fathers, by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken to us by his Son." So that whether we look at the various modes of communication — whether we listen to the voice of God in the garden — or turn our thoughts to dreams, and visions, and temporary revelations — or think on insti- tutions that are more permanent — we learn that God has had communications with man ; and all that man knows bears upon it the character of a divine revelation. And I love this character ; for, 3. It points out the transcendent im- portance of them. They are " revealed" things. O, if we look at these things se- parately ; if we think of God — of Christ our Mediator — of the gospel — of the Spirit to apply its truths ; if we consider the influence of these things on man — on the illumination of his understanding — the rectitude of his spirit — the purity of his conduct — the peace of his con- science— we should from all these catch a portion of evidence, which, when accu- mulated, would form a mass convincing and overpowering. Can we reflect on all the important results of all our immu- nities being regarded as a divine revela- tion ] For instance, what clearness is thus imparted to them ! If God speak for the benefit of man, we may be sure he will o2 162 TilE BRITISH PULPIT. speak in an intelligible maiinpr. Wliat ' certainiy does it impart to them ! They are not the doubtful deductions of human reason — of gigantic intellect — of enlarged stores of erudition. No : they are a re- velation from God. It is to this cause we trace the failure of all other hypotheses, however splendid; they failed, because they wanted the essential character of a revelation from God. What grandeur, too, does this imprint on our rights ! They have features of simplicity, it is true, but of dignity also. They are the word of God — God speaking to men ! God himself, bringing the charter of our privileges in his own hand ! God, pro- claiming his will concerning us, from the excellent glory ! And from the moment that God caused his voice first to vibrate on the ears of man — in all the promises he has made — in all the predictions which his prophets uttered, in the voice of the harbinger of the great Messiah — in the voice of Christ himself when he sojourned on our earth, and in the voice of all his apostles and preachers — we have proof that all our privileges are characterized by all that is great — by all that is digni- fied. Nay, what authority is imparted to them by this circumstance ! The reve- lation of God ! Yes ; this was what all the hypotheses which have been made knownto men wanted — namely, authority. But our privileges are revealed, and they bear the stamp and seal of the King of kings and Lord of lords. They are all marked as announcements to man of the will of the everlasting God. Wherever we turn, " Thus saith the Lord" vibrates on our ears ; and we fall down and adore, while it is said, " Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them slip. For if the word spoken by angels was steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense of reward, how shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation 1 which at the first began to be spoken hy the Lord" — the Lord incarnate ! and after its authority had been thus established, " was confirmed unto us by them that heard him ; God also hearing them wit- ness, both with signs and wonders, and with divers miracles and gifts of the Holy Ghost, according to his own will." O, brethren, let us look at our rights and immunities, llius distinguished — thus " revealed ,•" and if you have a spark of intellect — if you have any ability to in- vestigate— if you are at all capable of comparing things that differ; then will you cheerfully, gladly, willingly, give the palm to your religious immunities. We have heard much of " the rights if man ;" a great deal has been said and written on the rights of people and tlie rights of princes : but, without denying that these rights have their importance — an importance which should never be taken from them — there arc no rights which concern us as immortal creatures — as men destined to live for ever — as those which are made known to us by divine revelation. These are the rights to which the text refers; those rights which have been revealed by such a grand apparatus of means, and all of which are characterized by so much gran- deur, simplicity, importance, and au- thority. I say again, if we are capable of comparing the various objects that are presented to our minds, we shall rejoice to hear that " the secret things belong unto the Lord our God : but the things which are revealed belong unto ms." And we will endeavour to ascertain, Secondly, The validity of our claims TO THESE immunities. They " belong unto us ;" so it is said in the text. But what is the ground of our claim to the things that are revealed ■? It cannot be natural to us, considering us abstractedly, as men. It is true, indeed, that there began to be a system of reve- lation and communication from the first, to sinless and innocent man. But the things which are revealed to us contain much, certainly, which was not adapted to man in his first state. This revelation could not belong to man, then, as he was created. And though we are sinnei-s, and this revelation is made to us as sinners; still, the fact of our sinfulness could give us no claim to such a revelation ; no claim to a revealed God — to a revealed Saviour — to a revealed heaven — to a revealed im- mortality. No ; we can support no claim, REVEALED THINGS. 163 pither natural or meritorious. How tlicn are these things ours "? Simply — simply lipfniise of the sovereign will of God. That will has been employed in reference to us. Guided by infinite wisdom, prompted by infinite love, its determina- tions have issued in the birth of a Saviour, and, through him, in the repurchase of our former inheritance. It was given to «sby God himself: first, in promise ; then in the oath by which he confirmed that promise ; ultimately, in the gift of Christ : and this gift of Christ himself was the pledge that all which God had promised should be ours. God " spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all," and will therefore, " with him, freely give us all things." We take our stand here, then ; we have a right to these things because God has bestowed them on us, in covenant — by his mercy — by free donation. Looking on the world in its hell-deserving condition, while travel- ling on to damnation, he entered into gracious covenant with Christ, and all the world ; " for there is one God, and one mediator between God and man, the man Christ .Tesus : who gave himself a ran- som for all, to be testified in due time." Jesus Christ was not merely the fountain of revelation, but the head : by his volun- tar)"^ sacrifice of himself in our behalf, he acquired a right for us ; so revelation and all its blessings became ours. Now, among all the creatures God has formed, whether residing in heaven, or the inhabitants of planets discovered or unknown, where shall we find a people that can lay claim to these things equally with ourselves 1 He by whom they were bought, is " bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh," the Son of God and the Son of man. Christ is ours, and the things which reveal him are ours ; the sun is ours, and all the rays of that sun are ours ; the fountain is ours, and all its streams are ours; "Emanuel, God with us," is ours ; and hence all else is ours also. Revelation itself does not warrant any other beings to lay claim to its truths, but us. There is no intimation that it was designed for a superior race of beings, but rather on the contrary ; though men have often speculated curiously upon this point. Nor is there any reason for sup- posing that its blessings will extend to the brute creation ; though good men have entertained such an idea. All these things are ours, because " the word which was with God, and which was God, was made flesh, and dwelt among us ; so that we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." But, besides this, we have other and collateral grounds of claim. In proof that the things that are revealed belong unto us, I would appeal, 1. To their astonishing adaptation to our circumstances. There is, in this res]:oct, a striking connexion between the mercy announced, and the state of human beings. Take a summary of revealed truth, and bear it to human beings wherever you find them ; let but the light beam upon their minds, let but the truth be revealed to them, and it finds something in the heart, and conscience, and understanding, which responds to it; something which forms a collateral argument that the things revealed belong to them. Tliis is not theory, but fact. Wherever the gospel is borne, on whatever wind of heaven, there we find darkness chased by light — guilt met by its Saviour — uncertainty done away by the life which it brings to light — all incompetency met by the power of the gospel — and those who listen to it raised to the level of intelligent and redeemed men. We appeal further, 2. To the legitimated means of their transmission. God has not left the truths of revelation to themselves, to make their own way, and subdue the world to obedi- ence. Men may talk of the force of truth, and say that it is great, and must ulti- mately prevail ; yet truth, in order to its final triumph, has to contend with all the corruptions of the human heart. God has not left the truth to find its way, without making provision for its communication to the beings for whom it was designed ; and all the means which he has employed cast a light upon the fact that they belong to us. Where the truth eflfects the con- version of an individual, that individual makes the change known to another ; a church is formed ; the members of that 164 THE BRITISH PULPIT. church are removed in various directions ; and thus God causes his truth to make its way throughout the whole earth. Again : God has not left his truth to float on the stream of tradition, liable to be injured or impaired; but has given it the tangibility, shall I say 1 — the certainty, the palpable- ness, of a written revelation. God has caused his will to be recorded in a writ- ten form, and so handed down from man to man. What shall I say of a standing winistry, to explain and enforce these various truths in the hearing of men from time to time 1 What shall I say to the injunction given to parents to teach these things to their children ; " that the gene- rations to come may know them, who shall arise and declare them to their chil- dren; that they may set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments." Look at the nature of these divinely instituted means, and say, if you have not proofs that the things which are revealed belong to man. I refer you, 3. To the wonderful preservation of these things. How wonderfully has God taken care to preserve his truth pure and un- adulterated, notwithstanding the preva- lence of error — the tyranny of passion — and the cruelty of persecution. Think of the numerous foes that have been raised against the truth — pagans, who have aimed to destroy it, and papists, who have monopolized it. Think of popes and of devils — of some who have held fast the key of knowledge, and others who have corrupted it according to their own fan- cies. What do we see, but God himself holding the charter of our liberties in his own hands, and causing even the fire of persecution to induce us to retain our grasp of his revelation more firmly. W^hat has not died away? Nations and empires have been overthrown — the thrones of princes have been undermined ; they have fallen, and great has been the fall. Philosophers and their systems have vanished away. The world has been one continued scene of change, alteration, and destruction : but the word of God has remained the same. While whole nations have passed away ; while "the city has become a heap, and the defenced city a ruin;" the truth which emanated from God has been preserved, and has shone brighter and brighter. The stream which, at the first, bubbled up at the foot of the eternal throne, has rolled silently on, increasing in majesty as it passed along, gathering strength from the very means employed to obstruct its course ; now gliding unseen through sub- terraneous channels — then proceeding, softly and slowly, like the waters of Shiloah — and anon bursting forth like an American cataract, and rolling on with a mighty rapidity, bearing down before it each opposing barrier ; declaring to the astonished children of men, that while " all flesh is grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass, the word of the Lord endureth for ever." While men have stood upon its brink, and been com- pelled to exclaim, " We have seen an end of all perfection !" it still flows on, fer- tilizing and blessing all its banks. " The word of the Lord by the gospel is still preached," furnishing a miraculous proof that " the things which are revealed be- long unto us." And what if I conduct you, in further proof of this point, 4. To the influence of these things upon the nature of man, I often think on what would have been the state of the world, if these things had not been revealed. O, brethren, our living in the light of this truth makes it as familiar to us as our A, B, C ; and tends to make us forget the condition of those who are destitute of it. O, what a region approximating to that of hell — what a wilderness of sorrow and of wo — would this nation have been, if God had never illuminated it with his revelation ! This may be inferred from the state of those who have but a portion of this truth, in comparison with that of those who are altogether destitute of it. Look at the influence of the things that are revealed on the intellectual — the poli- tical— the domestic — the religious rela- tions in which men stand. On the intellectual condition of men. The things that are revealed have enlarged the sphere of knowledge. Religion has expanded the intellect, even where it has not changed the heart. It has a tendency to refine, where it does not save. I will REVEALED THINGS. 169 not undertake to say what liave been its effects on science, and literature, and the liberal arts ; but it is enoug'h to oifend one, to see the votaries of intellect and litera- ture strutting- in peacock dignity, when it could be clearly proved that all the know- ledge which they possess is derived from the things that are revealed. They have stolen fire from the altar of God, and have astonished others, while they have never been ingenuous enough to confess the theft. They have paraded in pomp before their fellow mortals, forgetting that the fairest feathers which they have ever worn have been those plucked from the bird of paradise. But for this, they would have had nothing — they would have been nothing. If God had not spoken from heaven, and revealed his will to men, they would still have been in gross intel- lectual darkness. What shall I say of its political influ- ence ] What has not revelation done for the establishment of genuine liberty ! From the mountain of revelation, the sweetest breezes of freedom have been wafted. The tree of liberty, beneath whose ample shadow we have lived, and by whose fairest fruit we have been fed, was sown by God himself in his revela- tion ; and it owes its elevation and gran- deur entirely to the truth which he has made known. Think of its influence on the domestic relation. And all that is sweet in the name of home; all that is connected with the names of father, child, husband, wife, master, servant ; all that is considered desirable to meet with in our intercourse with men, in our communion with each other; is derived from the things which God has so graciously made known to men. Look upon the religious state of man. 0 God ! who but thyself can tell what has been the influence of thy truth upon the mind of man ] It has poured a flood of light upon the darkness of the understand- ing— it has given patience in affliction, and satisfaction in disappointment — it has afforded direction in perplexity, and sup- port in feebleness — it has revealed that heaven, where the Christian shall rest from his labours, when he shall return with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy upon his head. " The things that are revealed. '^^ Who can thus trace their influence, (and this is a mere sketch,) and not see in all this a strong, clear, satisfying proof that God designed all these things for us 1 and not say with pleasure and gratitude, " the secret things belong unto the Lord our God : but the things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever 1" My brethren, if these be our rights, and if our claims can be so supported, should we not next ask, how does it become us to use these rights ? We are certainly not to hold them in ignorance of their nature : we are not to suppose that they are given merely to distinguish us from those by whom we are surrounded. They are surely given to us to promote our indivi- dual benefit. If this revelation be sealed with the broad seal of heaven, and pre- sented to us in an intelligible form, how ought we to aim at knowing the things it contains; that what it reveals may be enjoyed on the one hand, and obeyed on the other ! We are to search these divine oracles, till their force is felt on our hearts, and their import treasured up in our recol- lection. Highly, greatly as God has dis- tinguished us by these rights, this will only issue in our aggravated wo, if we should be found walking in the ways of darkness. Let us not be hearers of the truth only — let us not be content with looking at the " perfect law of liberty," and admiring it merely; let us look and admire, butlet us also " continue therein;" that we may not be forgetful hearers, but " doers of the work." Again: If these be our rights, and if they belong to our children, and to our children's children, what care should we take to transmit them without corruption to the succeeding generation. We often read of the enthusiastic ardour of those who have advocated our rights — Avho have not merely thundered in the senate, but have shed their blood on the scaffold ; and while Ave have seen these martyrs in the cause of civil liberty, and martyrs in the cause of Christ, thus fearlessly and freely yielding up their lives, how have we 166 THE BRITISH PULPIT. admired, nay, almost envied, the men who were able to manifest such zeal and pa- triotism ! But whij did they act thus ? — that we, and those who came after us, might enjoy those liberties which they esteemed more valuable than liberty or life ; and shall not we transmit them to our children, and to those that may come after us, "that they also may set their hope in God, and keep his command- ments'?" This is your work. It is for an insti- tution which is designed to carry these purposes into effect, that he who ad- dresses you has now to plead. An in- competent pleader he confesses himself; but one who feels that something like the whole energy of zeal should be thrown into his subject, while he has to plead the rights of children. You are called to take care of the children of the poor — some of tliem your neighbours and some not — in order that you may give them a portion of education. A great deal has been said about education — a great deal has been said loosely, a great deal foolishly, about it. Education may be, and in some cases is, a great evil : but a Christian education — and this is your work — is that by which you may serve your generation, your country, your God. In no other way can you turn education to a good account, but by teaching them the truth of God. We speak to you in language sound- ing from the throne of heaven — in lan- guage addressed to you through the me- dium of the Jewish lawgiver, surrounded by the congregated thousands of Israel. " Hear, O Israel ! the words which I command thee this day shall be in thine heart.'''' This is to be our first care ; and '* thou shall teach them diligently unto thy children ,- and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and wlien thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up : and thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand ; and they shall be as frontlets be- tween thine eyes ; and thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates." Thus giving the greatest publicity to them, that the generation to come might know them, and seek after God, and love him and serve him with all their hearts. And while we understand these things, and find them to be all our joy and all our desire, let us be glad that there are so many advocates of these truths of God. We live in a day in Avhich much opposition is made to pure and un- defiled religion : but as the truth has out- lived all the efforts of the prince of dark- ness, and gathered strength from the very opposition which has been made to it, it shall still be so to the end of time. It has defied all the sophistries of Hume, and the eloquence of Gibbon, and the vituperations of Voltaire, and the inuen- does of Rousseau, and the blasphemy of Paine; and when all their names shall have been written in the dust, or appear on the roll of history as awful instances of depraved intellect and perverted talent — the TRUTH shall stand unsullied and uninjured before God. And while all that the malignant heart of the infidel prompts him to, shall have failed of its effect, and died away, the truth shall give its suf- frages for the welfare of men to the very ' ends of the earth : Christians shall say, " Come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord ; for the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills, and people shall flow unto it ; and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks." May God further, by your means, and by the united means of all Christians, this glorious consummation, and fulfil the truth of the text in your experience. Amen. SERMON XVII. THE EXAMPLE OF THE ANCIENT SERVANTS OF GOD. BY THE HON. GERARD T. NOEL, M. A. ' That ye be not slothful, but followers of them icho through faith and patience inherit the promises." Heb. vi. 12. In this fallen world every thing good is acquired with difficulty, and retained with danger. Many fatigues, anxieties, and sorrows, make up that amount of effort which realizes even the objects of earthly ambition. In spiritual and hea- venly pursuits, the same labour is essen- tial, and the same peril attends enjoyment; but then that enjoyment is not subject to the same ultimate forfeiture. These are objects of pursuit, at once of high intrinsic excellence, and of perpetual duration ; but still they are difficult of acquirement. In reference to this difficulty of attain- ment, the apostle requires that we be " not slothful, but followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises." Let us with God's blessing contemplate here, in the first place, I. The important fact, that many of OUR fellow-Christians have through faith and patience inherited the pro- mises of God ; and II. The value of their example to ourselves. I. Let us first consider the assurance of the apostle, that many have attained the promises of God. To those who are familiar with the Scriptures, I need not say that every thing good and productive of happiness in this world, is the free gift of God. By this I do not simply mean that the original grant of life, with all its blessings, was to us a free benefit from God ; but beyond this, that sin, having deprived us of that benefit, and exposed us to the most aggravated evils, every degree of comfort, and every mitigation of evil, which we now enjoy, is the free and gratuitous gift of grace. We are criminals in a state of condemna- tion and forfeiture ; but as such we are the objects of God's compassion. The pro- mise of mercy consoled the first transgres- sors ; and this promise has been always guarded from oblivion, and in every suc- ceeding age has become the source of hope to the world. The great value of this promise respected a Mediator, by whom the tremendous effects of sin are averted from the penitent. Repentance, indeed, and the renewal of the heart to holy love, are among the most valued blessings conferred by this mediator. During many a long year this promise of pardon, and peace, and eternal life, was made known to a very limited number of mankind ; but when at length the Media- tor came in human flesh, who was none other than " God over all, for ever blessed ;" and when he had finished his work of mercy and of atonement, he commissioned his disciples to go into all the world, and to tell the tale of mercy to every creature ; to preach the assurance of remission of sins through his name, and the restoration of all, and more than all to man, of which sin had robbed him. " I am come, that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." Since the day in which this commission was given to the disciples, thousands and tens of thou- sands, in various countries, have believed the promises of God, and through Christ, the great subject of these promises, have 167 168 THE BRITISH PULPIT. found rest unto their souls. They have relied on his efficacious atonement. They have been renewed by his Spirit, com- forted by his grace, borne triumphantly through the perils of the world, and we doubt not have reached that perfect secu- rity and joy which is prepared for those who have been faithful unto death. Surveying then the crowded pathways of human life, and marking the guilt, and sorrow, and degradation which is every where apparent, it is a high consolation to think of the clear escape which these at least have made from suffering and sin. These have actually inherited the pro- mises. They " sleep in Jesus." They are " with Christ." They are made "perfect in love." They are placed be- yond the hazards and the pains of this lower world. It is however very material to remark, that the attainment of the promises was the result " oi faith and patience.^'' It was no light struggle which they were called to endure. Oftentimes against the evi- dence of external sense ; oftentimes amidst the scorn and contempt of men, they clung to the sayings of God. Exposed to the most cruel temptations, they yet be- lieved the record of God, and through the aid of his arm of strength, they rendered to him the sacrifice which his wisdom claimed at their hands. They believed his assurances, that ultimate felicity would be found in allegiance to him; in the denial of the flesh; in purity of affec- tions ; " in the grace of Christ, in the love of God, and in the fellowship of the Spi- rit." They learned by this faith to esteem the " reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt;" to "seek a city to come, whose builder and maker is God ;" to confess themselves to be " pilgrims and strangers upon earth," and to expect the trials which belong to such. Nor were such trials of faith few or momentary. These men found the neces- sity for patience as well as for faith, "They had respect to the recompense of reward ;" and with that reward in view, they " endured many a cruel mocking," many a bond, many a dreary captivity, and many a severe struggle with their own corrupt propensities. " Out of many a depth they called upon God ;" amidst many a swelling wave they besought him to lead them to " the rock which was higher than they." Thus they endured a great " fight of affliction," and patiently held on their way; expecting no rest on earth, but knowing that if "they endured to the end, they should be saved ;" and they were saved. They were led for- ward by hope, and it " never made them ashamed." It was to them " the helmet of salvation," and it " covered their heads in the day of battle." II. But let us, secondly, consider the VALUE OF THEIR EXAMPLE TO OURSELVES. " And we desire," says the apostle, " that every one of you do show the same dili- gence to the full assurance of hope unto the end. That ye be not slothful, but followers of them wlio through faith and patience inherit the promises." With some shades of difference, we are substan- tially placed in the same circumstances with those who now " rest from their la- bours." We inhabit, as they did, a world of sin and sorrow, with hearts prone to yield to the one, and to repine against the other. We are surrounded with inces- sant temptations, exposed to fearful ene- mies, allured by sense, indisposed to act by faith, ready to prefer present advan- tage to future recompense. We need, as they needed, pardon and peace with God ; reconciliation through the great atone- ment ; the renewing influence of divine grace ; " the setting our affections upon things above ;" the guardianship of Christ; the victory over the world; the patient allegiance which is " faithful unto death." We possess the same assurances with them, of the certainty of attaining these great and enduring blessings. All the strength, the courage, the faith, the resolution, the endurance which they ex- hibited, we require, and are invited to receive, at God's hand. No single pro- mise connected with the great victory over sin, death, and the world, is repealed. These promises still live upon the pages of revelation, like beacon lights to direct the feet of the wanderer through the wil- derness of time. To us then, thus situated and exposed, ANCIENT EXAMPLES. 169 tlie example of the godly men of those elder days is of unspeakable value. The precepts of Scripture are very valuable ; the promises of God are very refreshing ; but the imbodying those precepts, and the accomplishment of those promises, in the actual victory and salvation of God's servants, are yet more stimulating and effective to our support. They give actual evidence of the practicability of godliness. They are trophies erected in the enemy's country ; monuments of a courage, and constancy, and a success, calculated to refresh the weary and the faint, who are combating in the same noble strife, and are anxious to win the day. We have indeed the high and bright example of the great Captain of our salva- tion, "who endured the cross, and despised the shame ;" and he ever lives before our eyes, at once the model, the leader, and the source of victory. But it is still auxil- iary to our efforts to ascertain the efficacy of his strength, in the actual result of their lot, who once confided in his name. They, like ourselves, were once depraved, worldly, selfish, inconsistant, weak; but, united unto him, they became possessors of a " divine nature." They adopted the cause of truth and righteousness as their own. They linked their sympathies and tlieir lot to those of their Master. They clung to his principles, and made them the luminous way-marks to their own conduct. They estimated the things of time by the standard which he had erected, and they were borne away from the deci- sion of his law, by no current of human opinion, nor by any costliness of present sacrifice. They lived for eternity. They consecrated their all to God's glory. The love of Christ constrained them, and they thus judged, " that if one died for all, then were all dead ; and that he died for all, that they which live should not hence- forth live unto themselves, but unto him that died for them, and rose again." They continued in this temper, and " their patient expectation M'as not cut off." They had peace in their life, and hope in their death, and they have entered into rest. Are toe then at any time harassed by temptation, and beat down by conflicts "? Vol. I 22 Are we, my fellow Christians, painfully conscious of our own inherent weakness ? Have we already discovered by bitter ex- perience the deceitfulness and desperate wickedness of our hearts ] Have we, in a life of varied occupation, and repeated calamity, and incessant struggle, found no single spot where we may repose in quietness and safety 1 Have we, after innumerable failures, perceived that in ourselves there is neither wisdom, nor in- tegrity, nor truth, nor faith, but rather in- constancy and double-mindedness, and mistrust and folly ] Are we wearied with repetition of effort, and repetition of dis- appointment ■? Does the combat seem almost vain, and the full victory as far removed as ever from our hearts 1 It may, under such circumstances, console and strengthen us to trace the footsteps of our fellow combatants, and to hear the history of their conflicts. They went through the same difficulties, and endured the same fatigue. The sword was ever in their hands, and they expected rest, not on earth, but in heaven. They were militant here to the last sigh they drew. They cast their aching eyes towards the future glory, and then threw themselves afresh into the battle, and fought their way to Zion. Oh ! let it be recollected, that he who upheld their faith and pa- tience, "is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." Salvation is of grace, and Gad has connected the manifestation of his own glory with our ultimate rescue from all the severities of our condition. Let then our weakness, our guilt, our inconstancy, produce humility, but not despair. " Greater is he that is for us," than those " who are against us." He will glorify himself in our redemption. He permits us to discern our own insuffi- ciency,that we may rely upon his strength: he gives us the sentence of death in our- selves, that we may be incessantly in- debted to him for life and vigour. Through him we shall " be made more than con- querors," for " all power is in his hands." " He has overcome the world." The sceptre of rebellion lies broken at the foot of the cross. Satan and the world are vanquished foes. Those who have reached the higher world, fully comprc 170 THE BRITISH PULPIT. hend his victory. Let us wait, and we too shall share their conviction and their triuinph ; and the cause is worthy the slrutrgle. The result of the victory will fully attest the wisdom of the strife. I have already remarked, that every thing valuable requires a struggle. "They do it," says the apostle, " to acquire a corruptible crown, but we an incorrupti- ble." Let not then our expectations be inconsistent. Let us notbe s/o////'u/. We are, indeed, little aware of the real nature of our spiritual dangers ; but then we are as little aware of the value of eternal feli- city, or of the might and compassion of our gracious Saviour and Redeemer. We require to increase our knowledge and our faith. We require to become '■'■patient'''' followers of the saints. It is ours to con- template more steadily eternal realities; to examine more closely the records of our religion; to search more deeply into the character of God ; to expand our sym- pathies over the whole surface of heavenly truth ; to gather courage from God's pro- mises ; to ply the throne of mercy with incessant prayers ; " to quit ourselves like men;" " to be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might ;" to raise the up- lifted hand of resolution, in order to cut off the offending member; in short, "to deny ourselves ; to take up the cross, and to follow Christ." This is indeed a struggle. I would not disguise the truth, that it is " through much tribulation we must enter into the kingdom of God." God raay call us to years of toil, and faith, and patience. We may be often ready, like Jonah, to fly from duty; like Joshua, to lie upon the ground in despondency ; like David, after many an heroic effort, to cry, " I shall perish by the hand of Saul ;" or, like the once in- trepid Elijah, to retreat into solitude, and exclaim, " what good shall my life do me]" But, like these saints of old, let us also rally again to the spiritual combat. God refreshed their fainting spirits, and he will refresh ours likewise. " His arm is not shortened that it cannot save, nor his ear heavy that it cannot hear." Let us then " not be slothful, but be followers of the saints." "Seeing we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses. let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which does so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race which is set before us." It may further cnnfirm our confidence to remember, that if we shrink from God's trials, we expose ourselves to those of our enemies. We cannot stand on neutral ground. If, like Jonah, we refuse in any instance the service of the Lord, we so fiir take up the service of sin and Satan. Now, while their ultimate wages are ruin and death, their immediate results are affliction. Remorse, and shame, and self- contempt, and the " grieving the Spirit," are the unavoidable results of wilfully de- serting, in any degree, the standard of God and of truth. Oh, better far, my fellow Christians, to combat still with pride, and passion, and ease, and worldliness ; better far to go down into the grave with many a wound, and with our faces turned to the heavenly world, than to lull ourselves for a fatal moment amidst the dreams of sen- sual joy, only to wake amidst the terrific images of bitter contrition. " Yet awhile, and he who placed us in this scene ot conflict will call us forth from the strug- gle ;" yet a little while, and he that " shall come will come, and will not tarry :" for to those "that look for him shall he ap- pear the second time without sin unto salvation !" " Who then art tlu.'U that walketh in darkness, and hath no light, let him still trust in the Lord, and stay upon his God." " Hast thou not known 1 Ilast thou not heard that the everlasting God, the Lord the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary ? He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might he increaseth strength : even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall ; but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint." But while we are looking to the elder times for high examples of courage and of allegiance, it ought likewise to be our anxious endeavour to offer similar exam- ples to others in our own faith and pa- tience. It ought to be our prayer, that ANCIEKT EXAMPLES. 171 " our light may shine'' with steady bril- liancy upon the path of others. It ought not to content us to receive good ; it ouglit to be our generous effort to du good. Many generations may yet succeed us in the struggles of life. With this reference, it ought to be our desire to cheer and to invigorate those who are feebler in faith than ourselves. Let me speak then, in conclusion, to those who, through the grace of God, have taken their place in the world, and who have adopted a decisive course of desire and of pursuit. I would say to such. My brethren in Christ, you are on the Lord's side. Through grace you have remem- bered your vows of youth, and the early sign of the cross upon your foreheads. It is your desire to be faithful to the obliga- tions under which Christianity has placed you, and to evince yourselves to be good " soldiers of the cross, fighting manfully under the banner of Christ, against the world, the flesh, and the devil." Upon these principles, are you then examples to those who are but commencing the con- flicts of life 1 Are your maxims of con- duct the clear and recorded decisions of Gcd 1 Is your estimate of truth and error derived entirely from the Scriptures'? Is the honour, the glory, the cause of Christ, asdear to you at one moment as at another? Are you growing in his grace, and know- ledge, and love ] Is there with you no false shame before the world 1 No flinch- ing before the frown of man — no compro- mising of truth amidst the bold claims of falsehood ] Are you seeking, with con- sistent effort, the full salvation of your souls ? and is Jesus Christ, in very deed and reality, your honoured Master and your gracious friend] Is it your joy to uphold the wavering, to animate the timid, to encourage the faithful servant of your Lord 1 Have you given up every faculty of body and soul in holy consecration to Him who shed his blood for you 1 Are you advancing towards the close of life, as a light to the benighted, a staff to the weak, an example to the inexperienced and the timid ] Are you " followers of God and the Lamb ;" humbly anxious to be found "faithful even unto death]" Give these questions, I beseech you, their just consideration, and live in habits of watchfulness and prayer ! There are, however, those who are call- ed Christians — who are yet giving the strength of manhood, or the growing de- bility of age, exclusively to the pursuits of pleasure or of gain; and the young mark in such a fatal example of earthli- ness which they too well love to follow. Now such men are the abettors of a sys- tem of sin and of delusion which, if pur- sued, will rob them eternally of God's regard and of their own peace. I would earnestly say to such, " Has the gospel of Christ hitherto exerted no benign in- fluence over your souls ] Has the Re- deemer's love carried no healing balm to your bosoms] and is the disease of sin still raging unhealed, and has no wtuhheea solemnly felt, much less expressed, for a cure ] And it may, perhaps, aggravate your guilt that you are parents, or the guardians of others. For what example are you offering to your children] You have never felt towards them the godly solicitude of Christian parents. Their conduct towards God — their spiritual character, has never been the subject of solicitude dear to your hearts. You are still careless of your own souls, and are still walking before your children in the broad path to destruction. Your exaniples have never drawn them one step towards God. Your lives are no friendly beacons to warn them of evil, and to illuminate the way to true felicity. But think, my bre- thren, how awful must be the wo ulti- mately due to him who shall use the authority of age, the counsels of maturity, the lessons of parental influence, or the attractions of fond affection ; who shall use these advantages as instruments of moral power against the honour of God, and against the spiritual character of his children] On the other hand, think of the blessing which he shall receive, who, under the benign teaching of heavenly wisdom, shall prefer the interests of the soul to those of the body ; the spiritual welfare of his offspring to their earthly fortune] Estimate his eternal recom- pense who shall bequeath to his children, in his dying hour, the rich memorials of his faith and hope, and who shall descend 172 THE BRITISH PULPIT. into the grave the honoured servant of Christ, the firm " follower of those Vi'ho, til rough faith and patience, inherit the promises !" TKE FUIiPIT G^ZiIiIlRV. NO. VIII. THE HON. AND REV. GERARD T. NOEL, A.M. Curate of Richmond, Surrey. " There is a beautiful symmetry in the reli- gious character of such of the evangelical clergy as I have had an opportunity of know- ing. The graces of piety are conspicuous in them ; brotherly kindness and charity — tender- ness and humility — the disposition that leads one to esteem others better than himself; a pains- taking benevolence that can work without any impulse but that of its own zeal, steadily, si- lently, patiently; a habit of much secret com- munion with God in prayer, and the continual application of every question of doctrine or practice to the decision of the Scriptures, are the distinguishing features of the brethren of whom I speak." Bishop McIlvaine. The Rev. G. T. Noel is the son of Sir Gerard Noel, Bart, and the late Lady Barhatn. He completed his education at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he graduated about 180-3. Several years ago he was presented to the vicarage of Rain- ham, in Kent, where he carefully in- structed the people in the way of right- eousness, exhibiting a fine example of piety and benevolence. To the rich he discharged the duties of his office with an affection and fidelity for which they will ever have reason to be thankful ; while the poor and the afflicted will long remem- ber with gratitude his deep sympathy, and his unwearied exertions to promote their spiritual and temporal advantages. Mr. Noel as a preacher is evangelical and eloquent. In his sermons there is a happy union of doctrinal, experimental, and practical religion; an eager desire to convince his hearers of their nothingness, and of Christ's all sufficiency. Without any peculiar advantage of person — with a weak voice — with a plaintive and some- what hesitating delivery — and with little or no action ; he rarely fails of being highly interesting, and frequently rises to very considerable energy. His general strain is remarkably mild and persuasive — sin- cere and affectionate. His rank and con- nexions in life attract the attendance of many of the rich and great ; and before them he dwells on the vanity of the world with the emphasis of one who fee/s that the fashion of this world passeth away. In the success of those institutions which have for their object the glory of God and the salvation of man, Mr. Noel feels peculiar interest, and in their behalf is ever ready to plead, while he never shrinks froin bearing an unfaltering testi- mony against false philosophy, and all corruptions of true religion. "Against these systems," said be on one occasion, " the systems that would fling back into the caverns of superstition, and ignorance, the torch of divine revelation, and leave the world in darkness, I will never with- hold my voice of reprobation. No, while I have a tongue to speak, or an arm to lift up, I will use both in this holy and blood- less conflict." Mr. Noel was one of the earliest, and has proved himself to be one of the warm- est friends to the great effort of Missionary enterprise, and has been willing to link hand^and heart with the good of every name, to extend the kingdom of Christ. In a sermon preached more than twenty years ago, he said, " Blessed be God for the things which we now hear, and the things which we now behold. Never did such sounds of concord vibrate on the Christian's ear. The spell of parly is broken ; and the deep rooted antipathies of education have been torn up. A mighty revolution of religious sentiment, strik ingly designating the finger of God, has taken place ; and tranquillity, long ban- ished from the world, has been, I had almost said, miraculously restored. The wretched situation of millions has come up in reinembrance before us ; and every hand is lifted up to spread that gospel whose prophetic testimony has gone forth that the kingdoms of the world shall be- come the kingdoms of our God and of his Christ." SERMON XVIII. LIVING WITHOUT GOD IN THE WORLD. BY THE REV. JOHN FOSTER. "Without God in the world." — Eph. ii. 12 We have often occasion to wonder that brief expressions, descriptive of actual conditions of men, do not strike us far more forcibly — do not convey ?)iore to our thoughts, and awaken more emotion. For example : Suppose it to be said — " At this very time, this hour, even this mo- ment, a great number of human beings are dying !" This is a positive fact. But what is it to die ? What would it appear if I were with the dying man ] What if I were in the act ] But a great number are in this very situation. Think ! — following their flight from the world. And suppose it to be said, " A multitude of human beings are now in heaven !" And again, (another solemn fact,) " A vast number are now in hell !" But, to revert to things on earth, let it be said, " Enemies to God." There is a prodi- gious army of such ! — or " Without God in the world." Think ! — what a descrip- tion ! — and applicable to individuals with- out number ! If it had been without friends, shelter", or food, that would have been a gloomy sound. But without God ! — without Him — (that is, in no happy re- lation to him) — who is the very origin, support, and life of all things ; — without him who can make good flow to his crea- tures from an infinity of sources ; with- out him whose favour possessed is the best, the sublimest, of all delights, all triumphs, all glories ; without him who can confer an eternal felicity; — without Him — but how is he lost ! What do those under so sad a destitution value and seek instead of him 1 What will any thing, or all things, be worth in his absence 1 Without him, ' too, in a world where the human creature knows there is a mighty and continual conspiracy against his welfare. We fall unspeakably below the true and dreadful emphasis of the expression, even after we have given our utmost aggravation to its significance. And still it is but the j description of an actual condition; and should not each one be intent on having good assurance that it is not his own con- j dition ! ! It may be instructive to consider a lit- tle to what states of mind this descrip- tion is applicable ; and what a wrong and I calamitous thing the condition is in all I of them. We need not dwell on that condition of humanity in which there is no notion of Deity at all — some outcast, savage tribes — souls destitute of the very idea ! Not one idea exalted and resplendent above the rest, casting a glory sometimes across the little intellectual field ! It is as if, in the outward world of nature, they had no visible heaven — the spirit nothing to go out to, beyond its clay te- nement, but the immediately surrounding elements and other creatures of the same order. Think of a rational, and intelli- gent nature, debased, in these remote sec- tions of the universe, to so melancholy an extreme ! The'adorers of false gods may just be named as coming under the description. There is, almost throughout the race, a feeling in men's minds that belongs to the Divinity : but think how all manner of objects, real and imaginary, have been supplicated to accept and absorb this feel- pS^ 173 174 THE BRITISH PULPIT. ittg, that tlie true God might not take it ! Men have been willing to fill the world — the universe, with gods, and do homage to them all, rather than acknowledge, and adore, and love " the blessed and only Potentate ;" and a confirmed negation of him to the mind and the heart of man is the curse inflicted in return by all these infernal fallacies — an utter inaptitude to conceive the very idea ! It is too obvious almost to be worth noting, how plainly the description ap- plies itself to those who persuade them- selves that there is no God. We may believe some of them, on their own testi- mony, that they have attained to this de- liberate opinion — to them there is no Su- preme Intelligence in the universe. Mind — spirit — would evidently be the glory of all existence ; — a superlatively pre- cious and noble kind of being, in (Compa- rison with which all others are unspeaka- bly insignificant. And then one Supreme Spirit, self-existent, and the author of all existence, would be the transcendent ob- ject of every admiring, adoring, and de- voted sentiment. But to the atheist there is NOTHING in the place of that which is the supremacy of all existence and glory ! The Divine Spirit and all spirit abolished, he is left amidst masses and systems of matter without a first cause — ruled by chance, or by a blind mechanical impulse of what he calls fate ; and, as a little com- position of atoms, he is himself to take his chance for a few moments of con- scious being, and then be no more for ever ! And yet, in this infinite prostra- tion of all things, he feels an elation of intellectual pride ! But Ave have to consider the text in an application much more important to us, and to men in general : for, with a most settled belief of the Divine existence, they may be " without God in the world." This is too truly and sadly the appli- cable description when this belief and its object do not maintain habitually the ascendant influence over iis — over the whole system of our thoughts, feelings, purposes, and actions. That there is such a being is a principle that evidently claims to interfere in every thing. My very existence is from him, and depends upon him ; all it contains, and all its acts, must therefore be in a solemn relation to him ; and every thing in my spirit and conduct should acknowledge that rela- tion ; that relation is to be maintained in such a manner as that I may be in har- mony and conformity with him ; that relation constitutes the law of good and evil ; and fixes an awful sanction on the ditference ; in an endless series of things — that there is such a being, and that I belong to him, is a reason fur one thing, and against another ; the thought of him is to be associated with all these things, and its influence is to be predominant : — Thus and thus I think, and vi^ish, and will, and act, because there is a God. Now, for me to forget or disregard all this, is to remove myself as far as I can from God — to cause, as far as I am able, that to me there is no God ; it is a prac- tical conformity to the atheist's specu- lative unbelief. Let such a man ask him- self, " If I proceed thus, ought not my opinion to be that of the atheist V And let each man examine and judge whether there be not many things in his soul and his life which require this opinion in or- der to his being consistent. And let us all examine ourselves whether we live under a prevailing, powerful, all-pervad- ing sentiment of God ; or whether the thought of him be light, remote, nninflu- ential, and very often absent altogether. We wish we could describe with dis- tinctness several of the ways or forms in which this disregard of God is seen to prevail. For one, we are placed amidst the amazing scene of his works, extend- ing on all sides, from the point where we stand, to far beyond any thing 2ve can dis- tinctly conceive of — infinitely — in such a diversity that eternal duration will not suffice to take account of all ; having wnthin one day, one hour, one instant, ope- rations, changes, appearances, to which the greatest angel's calculating faculty would be nothing — and all manifesting design, order, beauty, sublimity, utility. Such is the scene to be contemplated. But now, while our attention wanders over it, or fixes on parts of it, do we re- gard it but as if it were something exist- ing of itself? Can we glance over the LIVING WITHOUT GOD. 175 ^ earth, and into the wilderness of worlds in infinite space, without the solemn thouoht that all this is but the sign and proof of something infinitely more glo- rious than itself? Are we not reminded — '■'■This is the production oi his almighty- power — that is an adjustment of his all- comprehending intelligence and foresight — there is a glimmer, a ray oi his beauty, his glory — there an emanation of his be- nignity— but for him all this would never have been ; and if, for a moment, his per- vading energy were by his will restrained or suspended, what would it all be then ■?" Not to have some such perceptions and thoughts, accompanied by devout senti- ments, is, so far, to " be without God in the Avorld." And that there should be men who can survey the creation with a scientijic enlargement of intelligence, and then say, " there is no God," is the most hideous phenomenon in the world. Again, the text is applicable to those who have no solemn recognition of God's all-disposing government and providence — who have no thought of the course of things but as just " going on'''' — going on some way or other, just as it can — to whom it appears abandoned to a strife and competition of various mortal pow- ers ; or surrendered to something they call general laws, and then blended with chance ; who have, perhaps, a crude Epi- curean notion of exempting the Divine Being from the infinite toil and care of such a charge ; or think they see things managed so wrong, that there cannot be a constant interference of sovereign power and wisdom — who do not discern and understand the indications manifested in some instances, and have no faith with respect to the darker parts of the system ; who, with respect to their own lot, feel themselves as committed to an unaided struggle and fight with difficulties, ene- mies, and accidents ; and who have no habitual trust or hope in the providential wisdom and care. If God he in the world with an all-pervading providence, those who do not acknowledge it really and practically are " without him in the world." The text is a description of all those who are forming and pursuing their scheme of life and happiness independ- ently of Him. They do not consult his counsel or his will, as to what that scheme should be in its end or means ; they will have a plan of pursuits and well-being to please themselves, without much in- quiry or caring whether it be one that he will approve; — perhaps slightly wish that it could please both, but it shall please me .■ this I like, and that I covet, and the other would be the very summit of hap- piness— no matter whether he has signi- fied a more excellent way. And then the confidence of realizing, on such a plan, his favour, his blessing, is considered as not absolutely indispensable: — "we can be happj^ leaving him out of the account ; the probabilities (the presumptions rather) of life, health, and success are in our fa- vour, according to the ordinary course of things, and we will embark on this ; for the present we can do icithout him ; if our schemes fail, we can but turn to him at last." So He is forgotten ! — and the deluded man goes into his scheme, and after it, with all his might, " without God." But if a brief illumination of truth might glare out upon such a man, and his schemes and prospects, what amazement and horror would seize him, to find himself thus impiously employed ! — thus presuming to work out for him- self a chief good of his existence, care- lessly, independently, and in defiance of Him who is the sovereign good! — in ef- fect saying — " I will make trial whether they were not in the right who were re- proached with loving and serving the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed forever." The text is a description of those who have but a slight sense of universal accountableness to God as the supreme authority ; who have not a conscience constantly looking and listening to him, and testifying for him ; who proceed as if this world were a province absolved from the strictness of his dominion and his laws; who will not apprehend that there is his will and Avarning affixed to every thing; who will not submissively ask, " What dost thou pronounce on this T' To be insensible to the divine character as Lawgiver, rightful authority and Judge, 176 LIVING WITHOUT GOD. is truly to be "without God la tlio world ;" for thus every emotion of the soul and action of the life assumes that he is absent or does not exist. This in- sensibility of accountableness exists al- most entire (a stupefaction of conscience) in very many minds. But in many others there is a disturbed yet inefficacious feel- inor : and might not some of these be dis- posed to say, " We are not ' without God in the world,' as an awful authority and judge ; for we are followed, and harass- ed, and persecuted, sometimes quite to misery, by the thought of him in this character : we cannot go on peacefully in the way our inclinations lead ; a porten- tous sound alarms us — a formidable spec- tre encounters us, though we still per- sist." The cause here is that men wish to be " without God in the world" — would, in preference to any other prayer, implore him to " Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of his ways." They would be willing to resume the en- terprise of the rebellious angels, if there were any hope. " Oh, that He, with his judgments and laws, were infinitely far away !" To be thus with God is in the most emphatical sense to be without him — without him as a friend, approver, and patron ; each thought of him tells the soul who it is that it is without, and who it is that in a very fearful sense it never can be without. The description belongs to that state of mind in which there is no communion with God maintained or even sought with cordial aspiration — no devout, ennobling converse held with him — no conscious reception of delightful impressions, sa- cred influences, suggested sentiments — no pouring out of the soul in fervent de- sire for his illuminations, his compassion, his forgiveness, his transforming opera- tions— no earnest, penitential, hopeful pleading in the name of the gracious In- tercessor— no solemn, affectionate dedi- cation of the whole being — no animation and vigour obtained for the labours and warfare of a Christian life. But how lamentable to be without God ! Consider it in one single view only : — that of the loneliness of a human soul in this destitution. All other beings are necessarily (shall we express it so ?) ex- traneous to the soul ; they may commu- nicate with it, but they are still separate and without it ; an intermediate vacancy keeps them for ever asunder, so that the soul must be, in a sense, in an insepara- ble and eternal solitude — that is, as to all creatures. But God, on the, contrary, has an all-pervading power — can inter- fuse, as it were, his very essence through the being of his creatures — can cause him- self to be apprehended and felt as ab- solutely in the soul — such an intercom- munion as is, by the nature of things, impossible between created beings ; and thus the interior central loneliness — the solitude of the soul — is banished by a perfectly intimate presence, which im- parts the most affecting sen^e of society — a society, a communion, which imparts life and joy, and may continue in perpe- tuity. To men completely immersed in the world this might appear a very ab- stracted and enthusiastic notion of felici- ty ; but to those who have in any mea- sure attained it the idea of its loss would give the most emphatic sense of the ex- pression, " Without God in the world," The terms are a true description, also, of the state of mind in which there is no habitual anticipation of the great event of going at length into the presence of God — absence of the thought of being with him in another world — of being with him in judgment, and whither to be with him for ever ; not considering that He awaits us somewhere, that the whole movement of life is absolutely towards him, that the course of life is deciding in what manner we shall appear in his pre- sence ; — not thinking what manner of fact that will be, what experience, what consciousness, what emotion ; — not re- garding it as the grand purpose of our present state of existence that we may attain a final dwelling in his presence. One more, and the last application we would make of the description, is to those who, while professing to retain God in their thoughts with a religious regard, frame the religion in which they are to acknowledge him according to their own speculations and fancy. Thus many rejecters of divine revelation have ON JESUS WEEPING. 177 professed, nevertheless, a reveremial ho- mage to the Deity : but the God of their faith was to be such as their sovereign reason chose to feign, and therefore the mode of their religion entirely arbitrary. But, if revelation be true, the simple question is. Will the Almighty acknow- ledge your feigned god fur himsef? — and admit your religion to be equivalent to that which he has declared and defined ] If he should not, you are " without God in the world." This is unavoidably the condition, also, of those who reject any thing which he has declared essential to the relation of being in peace and accept- ance with him. If, in order to this rela- tion, there be, as we believe, an appointed substitute, sacrifice, and atonement, then the rejection of this constitution abolishes the connecting medium between man and God, and the one is without the other. Such are the general illustrations — faintly exhibited — of the grave and for- midable import of the text. We intended briefly to add a few practical exemplifi- cations of the bad and miserable effects of such estrangement from God, as seen — in youth — in the active, busy occupa- tion with worldly concerns — in general social converse — in times of temptation — in situations of affliction and sorrow — in old age — and in death. And now, surely, this is not the state for us to be content with for one hour ; for us who are cast for a short period upon a scene of vanities, dangers, and ruins, with a nature full of want, helplessness, and dis- order ; — content with this destitution, while He is here, the almighty power ! — While we can find him, accost him, and importune him, let us implore him not to permit our spirits to be detached from him, abandoned, exposed, and lost ; not to let them be trying to feed their immor- tal fires on transitory sustenance, but to attract them, exalt them, and retain them in his communion for ever ! ON JESUS WEEPING. The Son of God shed tears ; not those which spring from partial or private grief, but generous, social, sympathetic tears : for it is well known that this effusion of his divine tenderness was poured forth Vol. I 23 only a few moments before he exerted his miraculous power in raising Lazarus from the dead ; when, meeting the afflicted sisters and relations of his deceased friend, and beholding the extremity of their distress, he instantly caught the soft infection, and lamented that calamity as a man, which he was about to relieve as a God. The Jews, it is true, who were spectators of this solemn scene, imputed these tears to the tenderness of private friendship. — " Behold," say they, how he loved him." It was the distress of his afflicted disci- ples and friends that opened the sacred fountains of his sorrows ; with these he " groaned in spirit, and was troubled ;" with these he " wept." It was even more than this : it was a sympathy with the afflictions of mankind in general, ever liable, from the common causes of mor- tality, to have their breasts wounded with sorrows of this piercing sort, without alleviation, and without redress. May not we (if we can do it without presump- tion) suppose that some such benevolent reflections as the following, at that mo- ment, arose in his compassionate mind ? " How many, alas ! how many of my future followers, like these, shall here- after be afflicted, and in the same dread- ful degree, at a time when I, their Sa- viour and their friend, am removed from this terrestrial scene of things ?. They shall call upon me, when the general laws of my Father's providence forbid me to answer : they shall weep when I must not dry their tears. Present as I now am with these children of affliction, consoling those sorrows with my pity, which I shall shortly remove by my power, to whom shall they fly for com- fort and succour in my absence ? Who then shall heal the wounds of groaning friendship, of brotherly, filial, or conju- gal aflfection ? Be the tears, I now shed, their future balm : let my disciples yet unborn feel their salutary' influence. Faith shall apply them still fresh to their bo- soms, and they shall rest assured that he who once wept with their afflicted bre- thren upon earth, shall ever compassion- ate their own calamities in heaven. — Ma- son, SERMON XIX. THE BLESSEDNESS OF GIVING. PREACHED IN BEHALF OF THE BAPTIST ACADEMY AT BRISTOL, BY THE REV. ROBERT HALL, D.D, ' Remember tJie words of the Lord Jesus, how he aaid, It is more blessed to give than to receive." — Acts xx. 35. This is part of that very touching and affecting discourse delivered by the apos- tle Paul at Miletus. It appears that he was anxious to visit Ephesus; but not finding an opportunity, he sent thither for the elders ; and there he took a final leave of them, under the persuasion " that they should see his face no more." The words of this discourse are indicative of the fervent piety which animated him; and none can read them without the con- viction, that " in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, he had his conver- sation in the world." He rises above all sinister and worldly views, and shows that he was actuated in all things by the purest motives. He refers, in the words of the text, to a declaration of Christ. He had shown them, both by precepts and by his own example, how they ought "to support the weak;" and he exhorts them to " remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive." In re- ferring them to these words for their re- membrance, it is to be supposed that he communicated them to those whom he addressed, in the course of the ''three years" during which he exercised his ministry amongst them. It is remark- able that there is no other passage in which any words of our Lord are recorded, but this solitary one. Except what is written in the four evangelists, there is 178 no record of the kind, except this one, which mentions the blessedness of giving above that of receiving. This shows us ike great uncertainty of tradition, W e should have known nothing of this say- ing of Christ, but for the apostle Paul; which shows us how improper it is to depend on tradition for the support of important doctrines, when we cannot know one word of the Saviour's teachings but as it is recorded. Those who build partly on the word of God, and partly on tradition, build partly on a rock, and partly on the sand ; partly on the truth of God, and partly on the tradition of men. That system is to be suspected, which has not for its basis the word of God. — But not to detain you by such remarks, though the words of the text naturally lead to them, I pass on to illustrate, and explain, and enforce this seeming para- dox of Christ. To say that " it is more blessed to give than to receive," may certainly be con- sidered as a paradox ; and a paradox to which men are slow to assent. Very few act on this principle : most Chris- tians, I fear, are of another mind : and though they would not pronounce the words to be folly, yet they do not admit their propriety, they do not act under the conviction of their truth and importance. To embrace every opportunity with eager- ness, to seize every opportunity that pre- sents itself for giving, is far from being THE BLESSEDNESS OF GIVING. 179 the conduct of vory many who bear the name of Christ. — I propose to assign sojiE REASONS, therefore, why " it is MORE BLESSED TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE." As to the blessedness of receiving, it is quite unnecessary to say one word : the various wants of mankind lead all natu- rally to see this. — But " it is more blessed to give, than to receive," for the follow- ing reasons : — First. Every Christian will regulate his desire of happiness by its tendency to glorify God ; and it is certain that nothing tends so muck to glorify God as ike exercises of charity. This indeed is, generally speaking, a popular virtue. Justice is demanded : demanded even by law ; and he who is merely just will not excite admiration. But charity, which is not demanded : the exercise of which is not enforced by any human law : — to bestow when and where we have no pros- pect of return : — to relieve the helpless, and to rescue the oppressed, and to sup- ply the needy : — and to do all this when no particular motive seems to enforce it, is generally considered as the highest brancli of moral virtue. It will be found that the most distinguished instruments of glorifying God in society, have been the most benevolent and kind. The very dispensation of alms is a source of plea- sure, and has much to excite us to it. But if Ave be the servants of Christ, we shall see that, by relieving distress, by aiding various institutions of kindness and benevolence, we are capable of doing much more good, and of bringing much more glory to him, than in any other way. All men are capable of judging of this : and we see how fit is the motive which our Saviour uses, " Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." — " It is more bless- ed to give than to receive," Secondly. Because to give implies power and abundance ; whereas to receive im- plies weakness and want. To have power ; to have the means, not only of self-enjoyment, but such an abundance as to supply the wants of others ; to " sup- port such as are weak," as the apostle expresses it, may be justly regarded as a high distinction. He who seeks to in- crease the means of doing this, feels plea- sure in his very exertions. Nor is it at all wrong for persons to seek to increase their property ; to enlarge their possession of the good things of this world, that they may be able to relieve others. A moderate desire of increasing wealth is a source of industrious exertion, without which all art and science would soon de- cay, and all that is good and excellent in society fall back into ruin. There are few men but are actuated by a constant desire of improving their circumstances ; and to indulge this, to a certain extent, is good : — and to stop when they have ac- quired enough for the supply of their own physical wants, would put an end to the improvement of society. This is sanc- tioned by the word of God : God assured the Israelites repeatedly, as a blessing on their industry, that he would make them " plenteous in good things, and in the fruit of their cattle, and the fruit of their ground ;" that he would " open the hea- vens to give them rain unto their land in due season;" — that they should "lend and not borrow ;" — that they should be " the head and not the tail ;" — that they should be " above and not beneath ;'" — that they should, in a word, not be under obligations to those around them, but beneficial. We are informed that " the hand of the diligent maketh rich :" — that " the man who is diligent in his business, shall stand before kings ; he shall not stand before mean men." And at the same time Solomon declares, that idleness leads to want, and beggary, and rags. He, therefore, who has the ability to give, has received a peculiar favour at the hands of God : he has a talent put into his hands of the most valuable kind : he rises superior in rank and station to him who is in a state of indigence and want. And this is a desirable state : he who has any nobleness of mind would surely rather resemble the sturdy oak, which stands erect amidst all the storms, than the parasitical plant, which creeps and clings to all around. The gradual in- crease of property, as the fruit of industry, is found to be most conducive to virtue and social order. If such a man keeps 180 THE BRITISH PULPIT. in view, at the same time, the glory of God; if he 'does all that he can to be beneficial to those around him; he is right to indulge that moderate desire of success which enables him to experience the blessedness of giving. — As another rea- son, I mention, Thirdly. The pleasure that results from the act of giving. — The pleasure oi receiv- ing is circumscribed. It consists of re- ceiving a certain portion of money, or what else. It is a low and selfish kind of pleasure: it springs merely from the enjoyment of a certain portion of the fruits of the earth : it is physical and transitory. — But the pleasure of giving, from a pro- per principle, is of a very high order : it is too pure, too subtle, too refined, to be enjoyed by vulgar minds. It is of two kinds : — it consists, first, in the testimony of a good conscience. It shows that we are rightly employing the gifts which God has imparted to us. "The good man," it is said, "is satisfied from him- self:" and never are we able to rise above ourselves so much, as when we are con- scious that we have contributed to the happiness of those around us. — But be- sides this, there is a peculiar and specific pleasure in giving. It is the idea of mingling in the sorrows, and partaking in the joys of others. He who gives, de- lights in the good he does : in the smile of contentment which brightens the coun- tenance ; in the glow of gratitude and love which he is sure is felt in the heart; he feels himself connected with those around him. We are so formed, that we feel much pleasure and delight in beholding the flowers with which we ourselves have decked this moral garden. The consciousness that we have done good, lights up " the human face divine," and causes a glow of ineffable joy in our souls. " It is more blessed," by far, " to give than to receive." It is like the blessedness of the Deity, who can only give, and who receives nothing. Do not imagine, therefore, that when you are called upon to give to a poor fellow crea- ture, you do yourselves a meanness ; — no : - — you rise in the scale of happiness and of dignity above those who withhold. And this is a blessing which may be en- joyed at the greatest distance, and at the most remote period. The future recol- lection of benevolence will give you plea- sure, and pleasure of such a kind as shall render the apostle's doctrine easy to be understood ; " He that dwelleth in love,, dwelleth in God, and God in him." — " It is more blessed to give than to receive," Fourthly. Because, while we know perfectly well what is the full amount of the gift we bestow, in relieving pressing want, and in satisfying painful desire, there is much higher blessedness, of the extent of which it is not so easy to con- ceive. jfViC mail who gives is improving his own character: — he is advancing in excellence and in moral virtue. While he is doing good to others, he is increas- ing his own excellence : he is rising far- ther and farther above the contagion of that disease which is spreading around, in those that regard not the glory of God. He is proving himself superior to those who live only for themselves, and regard not others. His soul rises above what is low, and mean, and sordid ; and mingles with the most pure, most sanctified, most holy part of the creation of God. There is no school in which to learn the practice of virtue with such facility, as in the ex- ercises of benevolence. Those who are the most truly benevolent, are making the swiftest advances in that " holiness, without which no man can see the Lord ;" and he who is labouring from a proper motive to do good to those around him ; who is sacrificing his time, his talents, his property, to promote the benefit of his fellow-creatures, is rising nearer to an imitation of God than any other. Look at those who have been the most truly benevolent, and you will see this. The Christian religion is of a practical ten- dency : it is an imitation of Him v/ho, throughout his whole life, " went about doing good." — The man who gives, then, is " more blessed" than he who receives ; he is preparing himself for that glory which is in heaven ; he is laying up for himself a portion in another world, in that state where every vessel shall be filled with the glories of immortality for ever and ever. , Fifthly. "It is more blessed to give THE BLESSEDNESS OF GIVING. 181 than to receive," because in giving ive are resembling God, and Jesus Christ, the high pattern for our imitation. God and his eternal Son delight in giving ; and we are called to resemble them. We admit, indeed, that there is an infinite disparity. We have nothing to give but what we have received : we can create nothing : in giving, we merely change property, or remove it from one place to another. But God can give only. — Our limits, too, are greatly circumscribed. How small a portion of any particular kingdom, or of the world, can any philanthropist, any liberal-minded man visit by his bounty : — but God can do good in every place, and to an unlimited extent. We know not whether Avhat we do may be productive of good or of harm : we can give only what affects the body ; the mind may be still left in a state of pain and sorrow. But God can give all that is needful : he can relieve the soul as well as the body. There are blessings of grace which he has to bestow : blessings which all need, blessings which none should refuse, bless- ings which are sure to do good. — Yet, with all these deductions, it is not too much to say, that the man who delights to give, is a living example of the charac- ter of God. When we hear Job say, " I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. I brake the jaws of the wicked ; and plucked the spoil out of his teeth. I was a father to the poor ; I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me : and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy:" — we seem to he reading an account of the ac- tions of some being of a superior order. Yet he was a man of like passions with ourselves. When we see a man who is continually giving, we see one who is acting like God ; we see a faithful steward of the manifold bounties conferred upon him. Thus we aim to be perfect as he is perfect, who " maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." You will recollect, that while our Saviour calls upon us to imitate God, it is in this part of his character. " Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." — And what was the example of Jesus Christ when on earth] He was always giving : giving food to the hungry — eyes to the blind — health to the sick — pardon to the guilty. He came to bless every man, "by turning every man from his iniquity." And he is continu- ally opening the fountain of blessedness which springs up in his soul, and has ever been blessing mankind. The more we do this, the more nearly we resemble Christ, the more we " adorn the gospel of God our Saviour." By this will all men know that we are disciples of Christ. The world never knew any thing of be- nevolence till Jesus Christ came. Am- bition, and envy, and malice, and deceit, and wrong, and injury, were well known ; but not true charity, till Christ came " to seek and to save that which was lost." Every Christian will delight in going forward in the imitation of this great pattern. Sixthly. The blessedness of giving is superior to that of receiving ; because, under the dispensation of grace, to give aright will be connected ivith an eternal reivard. Let no one be surprised at this. We are told plainly that there shall be an abundant reward : — " He that receiv- eth a prophet in the name of a prophet, shall receive a prophet's reward ; and he that receiveth a righteous man in the name of a righteous man, shall receive a righteous man's reward. And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of fliese little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward." It is said also, " Give, and it shall be given unto you : good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give unto your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal, it shall be measured to you again." — We are told that " he shall have judg- ment without mercy that hath showed no mercy;" and that "mercy rejoiceth against judgment;" and that "blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." Scripture is full of the high rewards to be bestowed on benevolence, assuring us that they who have done 182 THE BRITISH PULPIT. g-ood shall enter into life everlasting. And all this is quite consistent with the doctrine of justijicatiun hy faith : for it is certain that no gifts, however splendid, can be pleasing to God, if they be pre- sented by a man who is not justified. They are the gifts of a rebel, of a rebel who is under sentence of death : — if a man were condemned to die as a rebel, it is certain that no acts of obedience, no gifts of kindness to those around him, no promises of future allegiance, would avail ; — they could not change his charac- ter from that of a rebel to that of a faith- ful servant ; his private virtues, however numerous, could not be taken into the account. All men are rebels against God ; and " by the deeds of the law can no flesh living be justified." No acts which we may perform can atone for sin, or render us acceptable to God. But, if tlie Most High has graciously promised to bestow pardon — if he has assured us that all who will lay down the arms of their rebellion shall be pardoned and re- stored to his favour, then those who are thus pardoned and reconciled may ap- proach to him without fear ; they may ob- tain from him the assurances of his favour, and may confidently hope for the testi- monials of his approbation. Then the majesty of heaven may receive their ser- vices ; services from those who are recon- ciled to him, but not from those who are still in a state of rebellion. We must first receive the forgiveness of sins ; — we must come to him by the blood of the cross ; — we must approach him through Jesus Christ alone, and alone by faith obtain pardon and renewal. We must begin here : we must be justified by faith; and then, being justified by faith, you may hope for acceptance. — Through Jesus Christ and his precious blood, God will accept the free-will offerings of such. The doctrines of justification by faith, and the free grace of God, are never for a moment lost sight of by enforcing the performance of acts of charity; — and let me remind you, that God loves the dis- position to do good — the wish to act for the benefit of others. He loved it in his own Son ; and He who offered himself up for us and our salvation, presented "an offering and a sacrifice to God of a sweet smelling savour.''^ God accepts this imitation of Christ on the part of his peo pie, not from any virtue there is in them, but from the virtue there is in Christ, to whom they are united, and through whom they ever will be blessed. — And the re- wards which God will bestow upon such are of a kind v.hich could not possibly be connected with merit in them. They include peace and consolation of soul in the present life, and the future vision of God, and the full enjoyment of holiness and perfect bliss. He will say to all those who have aimed to be useful upon earth, " Well done, good and faithful servant ! — Enter ye into the joy of your Lord." O, the unspeakable blessedness of giving in that great day, when He will bestow upon all according to their works \ — When the righteous shall find that all their virtues have vegetated and brought forth abundant fruit, what joy and bless- edness shall take possession of tiieir souls ! But they have performed these actions with regard to the glory of God, and with a desire to please him. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." I would apply this doctrine of the blessedness of giving above that of re- ceiving, very briefly, by simply exhorting those who hear me to act on this principle. Be assured that He who said this will make it plainly out in the experience of all. Determine to give rather than to receive. Learn to consider yourselves as " not your own, but bought with a price;" and aim to " glorify God in your bodies and in your spirits, which are God's." The great means of having it in our power to act on this principle is to prac- tice economy. Those who give their minds to it will find their means multiply far beyond what they could themselves expect. — Frugality opens a variety ot sources, furnishes a number of means ol well doing. There is scarcely an indi- vidual who has it not in his power to do good : all may so act as to have " to give to him that needeth." None are ex- THE BLESSEDNESS OF GIVING. 183 eluded : the duty, the blessedness, is not confined to either rich or poor. The apostle says, " Let him that stole, steal no more ; but rather let him labour, Avork- ing with his hands the thing that is good ;" not merely tliat he may supply his own necessities, but " that he may have to give to him that needeth." The apostle taught also that the poor should act so frugally, as not only industriously to sup- ply their own wants, but to be able to give to others. If, indeed, we consult vanity — if we are guided by fashion — if we give way to covctousness — if we in- dulge in vain show — if we follow the course of this world, we shall never have to give to others. A mean and avaricious disposition Avill ever keep pace with the love of splendour and of show ; — but if we endeavour not to seek the things of the world ; . if we remember not to " seek great things for ourselves ;" if we con- sider that " all that is in the world is not of tbe Father, but of the world;" if, as Christians, we aim to rise above it, — we shall always find ample means of doing good ; and he who anxiously wishes it, will always find himself able to advance the interests of his neighbour. But there must be frugality, or it will not be possi- ble that our aims to do good will be car- ried to any extent. And while we aim to do good, gene- rally, to supply the bodily wants of our fellow-creatures, let us remember that there are other objects still nobler. He that provides instruction for those around him does more than he who supplies food ; and he that supplies them with spiritual knowledge does still more ; and he who provides and prepares agents to impart this spiritual knowledge, does the high- est act of benevolence of which we can conceive. And this is the very object we have in view in this service : it is to support an institution, by which young men are fitted for the work of the ministry. This must be considered as benevolence of the highest order. Surely we never so imitate Christ as when we are aiming to send out the great gift which he has ever given to men. "When he ascended up on high, he gave gifts unto men. He gave some, apostl^ ; and some, prophets ; and some, evangelists ; and some, pas tors and teachers ; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of (IJhrist; till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." Nc man can possibly ascertain the effects of this gift : Christ is by this means making millions to rejoice in his truth — millions of wanderers have been reclaimed — mil lions have been converted from the erroi of their waj^s ; and long as they exist will they bless his name. And what is to be the means of perpetuating this good 1 Most of those who are called by God, are called by a holy ministry. The gospel is still "the power of God to salvation to every one that believeth." And, in the present very advanced state of society, none can be fully qualified for this work without much preparation. Time M'as when God raised up men who shone most brightly, without the aids of human learn- ing: there have been some who have risen high, and been eminently useful. In our own denomination we have known a Bunyan and a Fuller, who rose to a gigantic height. But these were by no means common cases ; they were excep- tions— they are not to be regarded as precedents : we are not to expect such men to be raised up every day. — While education is going on generally through- out society, we must keep pace. There is scarcely a congregation now to be found in the remotest part of the kingdom, in which there are not some men who are able to comprehend, and who do not con- sider and examine what is said. I need not say one word to induce j'ou to acknowledge the importance of this : you know well the necessity of academi- cal institutions. That for which I have the honour to plead is one of the most ancient; and, without wishing to depre- ciate any similar institution, I would say, that it is at least equal to any in exist- ence. The students have all the assist- ance of a library which is not excelled by any in the kingdom, and are aided in their pursuits by learned and pious men. In consequence of building, a debt has beer. 184 THE BRITISH PULPIT. contracted, which has placed the trustees in great difficulty, and prevented them from receiving as many young men as might otherwise be accommodated. They make a strong appeal to you, while thus struggling with great difficulties, and while aiming to raise up a number of men who shall speak to the people the words of eternal life. You have lately had many demands made upon you, and much has been said to excite you to benevo- lence. But " be not weary in well- doing :" we expect no large proportion of your property ; — a scanty portion of your abundance, without much exercise of self- denial, is all that is needed to attend this application. — You will do nobly on this occasion, if you only part with a small portion of your superfluity ; and you will, no doubt, be willing to do this, anxious to experience the blessedness of those who give : you will delight to lay up for yourselves those rewards which he has graciously promised to bestow. Remem- ber God has put the " treasure" of his gospel into " earthen vessels," " that the excellency of the power maybe of him." •^" How shall they hear without a preacher ] And how shall they preach except they be sent?" And how can they be duly prepared, unless you furnish the means 1 If Christians withhold the means, the church of God must cease ; places of worship must be shut up ; im- mortal souls must be neglected. But you will not allow this : you will come " to the help of the Lord against the mighty;" — you will not look at the weakness of the instruments, but remember that 'tis the cause of God. They may be feeble ; but they are such men as Christ employs in going forth " conquering and to conquer." They form that army which He is leading forth, who hath " on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, King of kings, AND Lord of lords." — They are " the called, and chosen, and faithful," whom he will employ to accomplish his designs ; and he who despises these ministers as mean and contemptible, would despise and contemn their Master, if he were upon earth. Let us listen to him who says " It is more blessed to give than to receive ,•" and he who has said it will make it good, in an abundant recompense to all who thus have studied " to adorn the gospel of God our Saviour." RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE. The Bishop of Chester, in his charge to the clergy of his diocese, on "indi- vidual instruction," observes that " with- out this, little permanent effect will be produced by any ministry ; and, with it, a minister who Is comparatively feeble in the pulpit, will be more useful than the most eloquent, who confines himself to the pulpit alone." After dwelling at some length upon the value, and, indeed, the absolute necessity, of thus teaching " from house to house," the bishop con- siders the important inquiry, " Who is sufficient, ' physically' sufficient for these things'?" and candidly acknowledges, what every unprejudiced mind nmst at once confess, that, " in our larger parishes, it is not possible for the strength or ac- tivity of the clergy alone to provide for such individual instruction." He then proceeds to show that this difficulty can only be sufficiently combated by the aid of the laity ; " Let the minister of a popu- lous district, using careful discrimination of character, select such as ' are worthy' and of ' good report,' and assign them their several employments, under his directions ; they may lessen their own labour, by visiting and examining the schools ; by reading and praying with the infirm and aged ; by consoling the fatherless and widows in their afflictions ; and pursuing the many nameless ways by which it is in the power of one Chris- tian to benefit and relieve another :" in the appendix, the Bishop gives an outline of the plan of two or three district societies, where this system of lay instruction has been tried, in densely populous parishes, with very consider- able effect. SERMON XX. THE GLORIFICATION OF THE WORD OF GOD. BY THE REV JOSEPH FLETCHER, D.D. ' Finally, brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified, even as it is with you." — 2 Thess. iii. 1. The apostle Paul, in this solemn and impressive injunction, asserts the dignity of the gospel — he describes it to be the word of the Lord ; and he who recorded the injunction well knew its claims to this high and sacred designation. He had first heard the word of the Lord in circumstances of strange and mysterious interest. On the way to Damascus its power first reached his heart, and it proved to be indeed the power of God to his salvation. He was then engaged in an enterprise of fearful resentment against the disciples of the despised Nazarene. His interests at that time were all on the side of his prejudices and his passions — a mistaken conviction of duty giving force to the one and authority to the other. All the ardour of youthful feeling, all the energy of powerful talents, all the influence of the high and distinguished connections that surrounded him, and all the effect which he was able to produce on the minds of others, were devoted at that period to one object, and that object was the utter extermination of the Chris- tian cause. He was a man characterized by that ardour of temperament, by that hardihood of nerve, by that passion of character, that he could do nothing by halves. No one could have looked at nim without at once receiving the im- pression, that in whatever cause he en- gaged, to whatever object he was devot- ed, it would concentrate and absorb the strength of all his powers, and the force of all his passions, and that, according to the object which he regarded, and the Vol. L— 24 direction of those powers and of those passions, he was fitted to be either an angel of mercy or a destroying demon to the rest of his race. He was approaching the spot destined to be the scene of unrelenting hostility against the disciples of the cross ; but in the midst of all his anticipations a mar- vellous effect is produced, on which he had never calculated, whi^h was, there- fore, strictly a miracle of mercy — a devia- tion from the ordinary and established course of the Divine procedure in the ad- ministration of his mercy. A voice from heaven reached his ear — a more power- ful voice reached his heart. His conver- sion to the faith of Jesus was instanta- neous. The power of prejudice instantly withered. He felt, as by the stroke of lightning, the force of evidence and the power of truth. It was not merely an effect produced on his understanding in the way of rational conviction ; it was an effect produced on his heart by the power of sanctifying mercy. It was then he received the word of the Lord — it was then that all the sentiments of astonish- ment, and conviction, and penitence, and deep humiliation, and instant resolution, and undaunted decision, were combined and involved in one prayer, " Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do ]" — and his whole life, from that memorable moment, was a practical commentary on that first prayer. He could say, emphatically, " Ojie thing I do.'''' And while the fact of his conversion proved the truth of the gospel, the cha- racter founded on that change, and re. Q 2 185 186 THE BRITISH PULPIT. sultinn^ from it, was the best possible illustration of the tendency and the influ- ence of the gospel. His conversion ex- hibited a decisive and invincible proof of its divinity ; his character exhibited an equally decisive and invincible proof of its holy, its spiritual, and its heavenly tendency. Read, then, my brethren, the his'ory of this astonishing man — observe the va- rying circumstances in which he was placed, the extended scene of his labours, the privations to which he submitted, the unparalleled energy pervading all his ac- tions, and exhibited amid all his suffer- ings— and you will find one principle lying at the foundation of all this struc- ture of moral excellency — one migbty spring giving its powerful and uniform impulse to all the actions of his life. Whether you find him at liberty or in bonds — amid the court of Areopagus, or amongst the barbarians at Melita — whe- ther you find him proclaiming the truth to the barbar^n and the savage, or the Athenian ana the Roman, you find one great object before him, giving animation to his motives, consistency to his charac- ter, concentration to his efforts, and, un- der the mighty power which wrought in him, success to all his enterprises. That one object was, that the word of the Lord might have free course and be glorified. That object, in one respect, was not personal. True, indeed, personal inte- rests were deeply involved in the views and the anticipations by which he was influenced. He could not possibly for- get, in this respect, his personal interest. He had received a commission to pro- claim the word of the Lord and the faith of the Saviour. Strange events connected with his conversion, and always associ- ated with every recollection of it, would deeply fix upon his memory, and his con- science, and his heart, the responsibility involved in his commission; and he could say, therefore, " Wo be to me if I preach not the gospel." True, he felt a personal interest in the gospel, because all his own hopes, all his own consolations, were de- rived from it. But in no sense whicli would convey the idea of any thing that was selfish, or interested, or secular, or connected with the aggrandizement and the objects of the present passing state, could it be said that he was influenced by personal con^derations. All the or- dinary motives which we connect with the usual acceptation of the phrase, as derived from the connection and the ob- jects, the possessions and the interests, of the present state, had no power over the heart of this holy man. It was to him, therefore, a matter of perfect indifference whether he was a slave or a free man — whether he was sick or in health — whe- ther he was rich or poor. He possessed an independence of the highest order, of the sublimest philosophy, in relation to all the accidents and all the external cir- cumstances of his present history, and looking forward to eternity, he felt a re- alizing sense of the value of the soul, and was conscious of the claim of that im- perishable truth which God had commit- ted to him as a sacred deposit; and to propagate that truth, and to promote its high and holy objects, was the very end for which he lived, and moved, and had his being. There was nothing polilical in the ob- ject he regarded, and yet, in a certain point of view, it was morally impossible that the object could succeed — morally impossible that the principle on which the apostle laboured, and by which he was governed, with a view to the promo- tion of the object, should have free course, and operate on the minds, and passions, and characters of others, without ulti- mately producing even political results. He knew that superstition and idolatry, in all their varied forms and monstrous combinations, were as ill adapted to pro- mote the present interests of the human race as they were in direct opposition to their spiritual welfare and their eternal felicity ; and no doubt, therefore, the comprehensive, the prophetic mind of the apostle looked forward to the period when, by the mighty power of the gospel, the altars of idolatry should be overturned, the whole fabric of society should be newly formed, and the systems of idola- try should be annihilated, and every prin- ciple opposed to the true interests and general felicity of the human race should *# THE GLORIFICATION OF THE WORD OF GOD. 187 crumble into dust before the withering power of heavenly truth — before the might and majesty of tlie word of the Lord. And, my brethren, in the same view of the subject we may contemplate even in a certain sense — not in the minor and pet- ty and contracted acceptation of the term, but in the more large and liberal view of it — we may contemplate that the success of gospel efforts shall have the most powerful influence on the destinies of thrones, on the condition of empires, on the state of nations ; for we look forward to a period when the whole world shall become the kingdom of our God and of his Christ ; we look forward to this as the legitimate result of the very object to which the apostle re fers us — the success of the gospel, the glorifying of the word of God. I\Iy brethren, I have chosen the subject of this apostolic injunction as the topic of our present reflections, because I con- ceive it to be peculiarly appropriate to the end for which we are this day gather- ed together in the sanctuary. Most de- voutly do I rejoice, with the church and congregation that will henceforth assem- ble within these walls, on this auspicious day, and on the results to which their prayers, and their liberality, and their long-continued arrangements have led them, and by means of which we are this day permitted, with other churches and other congregations, to share with them in their felicity, to be helpers with them in their joy, and to unite with them in solemn and fervent supplications to the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort. What, my beloved friends, is the end for which you have erected this spacious edifice 1 Why have you sought this ampler territory for the proclamation of the truth, for the administration of the word and ordinances of the most high God ■? What have been the impelling motives by which, as a church of the Redeemer, you have been influenced in all the arrangements and all the liberality that have terminated in this day 1 I trust, my brethren, that with each individual member of the church and congregation there is a principle accordant in spirit, and sympathy, and feeling, with the prayer before us. What, whal, my dear friends, what is the request in which you would unite with us, whom you have in- vited, in the services of this day, to share with you in holy fellowship, in hallowed anticipation 1 — what is the prayer which would embody to J'our mind the most in- teresting, the most important ends to which all your efforts have been directed 1 Could one voice utter the feelings, and the anxieties, and the requests, of this church and congregation, to all the churches and all the pastors of this vi- cinity, of this metropolis, and even of our whole country, in the length and breadth of it, what would be the lan- guage of that request 1 " Brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified." And we assemble, my beloved friends, to as- sure you that our hearts correspond with yours in the request which you have thus presented ; and we would unite our sup- plications and combine our sympathies with yours, and re-echo, from the inmost recesses of our minds, the apostolic in- junction, " Brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified amongst us, and glorified in every part of our country, and glori- fied throughout the world, even as it is with you." This apostolic injunction brings before us, L The great object of Christian DEVOTION. The object is strikingly represented in the phraseology of the text, and it con- sists, 1st. In the free and unimpeded circula- tion of the gospel. " Pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course." There are impediments to the progress of the gospel — mighty impediments to its progress. — They may all of them, in- deed, be resolved into one — hinderances, and hinderances are overcome in every in- stance in which the word is the power of God to salvation. But the impediments are variously manifested. There are im- pediments to the gospel in the spirit of persecution — in the prevalence of idola- try and superstition — in the power of Antichrist — in the eflfects of infidelity — 188 THE BRITISH PULPIT. in the inconsistency and the corruptions by which the Christian church is itself degraded ; but all of them, however va- ried, may be resolved into one, the oppo- sition of the heart to the power, and vir- tue, and influence of the gospel. It was, therefore, with peculiar propriety, my friends, that the apostle taught the be- lievers of Thessalonica to pray that the word of the Lord might have free course. He alludes, in this injunction, to the ancient stadium, or race-course, on which persons were employed in running, for the purpose of gaining the honours of the Olympic prizes, or obtaining some perish- ing crown, some fading distinction, which the applause and which the honours of the world might confer. It was requi- site, obviously requisite, before there could be the successful progress of such as were engaged in running this race, that every impediment should be removed — that crooked things should be made straight — that rough places should be made plain — that the valley should be exalted, and the hills should be made low ^and thus a way should be prepared for their unimpeded movement. The apos- tle, therefore, applies this imagery to the gospel. The Son of God is riding forth in the chariot of his gospel, and those employed in preaching it may well be considered, in a certain sense, as running a race, employed in a most important and honourable competition. But there must be the removal of all the hinderances which exist in the state of feeling, in the prejudices, in the opinions, in the cus- toms of mankind, by means of which op- position in various forms is presented to the power and the influence of the gos- pel. When the apostle, therefore, taught the Thessalonians to pray that the word of the Lord might have free course, he was, in fact, teaching them to pray for the progress of the cause of liberty ; he was, in fact, teaching them to pray for the march of truth and knowledge ; be- cause he knew that liberty, and truth, and knowledge, in relation to all the ob- jects that could occupy the thoughts and attention of men, would be ultimately subservient to the progress and the tri- umphs of the gospel. When he taught them to pray that the word of the Lord might have free course, he taught them to pray that whatever hinderances existed in the inward opinions, in the feelings, in the prejudices, in the pride, in the natu- ral scepticism and unbelief of the heart, to its admission and to its triumphs, might be removed. And he could not possibly look back on the state of his own heart, on the impediments to the entrance of the word which existed in that heart, and to the wondrous energy by which the word had free course, overcame, subdued, and conquered it, without feeling that every recollection encouraged him to con- fidence and perseverance in his hallowed work. But, my brethren, it was not enough for the apostle to have contemplated the free and the unimpeded circulation of the gospel, the removal of all external impe- diments as a great and important end ; but he looked upon these as subservient to some other end. " Pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course and be glorified." What, then, is it for the word of the Lord to be glorified ? — will thus demand, in the next place, our consideration, in illustrating the object of Christian devo- tion. It would not, my friends, in your esti- mate be enough, if in every part of our country, and in every government and kingdom under heaven, the most unre- stricted freedom were enjoyed. It would not be enough for you that all the diffi- culties and all the impediments in the way of the evangelization of the world, arising from persecution, from idolatry, from anti-christian superstition, from the systems of infidelity and of every other outward cause, were removed. It would not be enough for you that in every part of our land, in every part of our world, there were edifices, spacious and elegant like your own, in which assembling thousands might unite for the great pur- poses of worship and fellowship. It would not be enough for you that, on principles connected with the simplicity and spirituality of the gospel, kings were every where nursing fathers, and queens nursing mothers, to the church, and that THE GLORIFICATION OF THE WOilD OF GOD. 189 the power and splendour of rank, autho- rity, and government, were every where subservient to the progress of the truth. Even all this moral machinery, erected upon the very best principles throughout every part of the world, would not real- ize your objects — would not realize that for which you are taught to pray in this apostolic injunction. All this would not meet the glorifying of the word of God ; for, my friends, the glorifying of that word is inseparably connected with its being made the power of God to salva- tion— is inseparably connected with that influence by means of which the under- standings of men are enlightened, the hearts of men are renewed, and sinners are turned from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to the power of God, receiving forgiveness of their sins, and an inheritance among them who are sanctified. When then, my friends, may it be said that the word of the Lord is glorifiied 1 In pointing out the instances which may be viewed as accomplishing this object, I am sure that I am stating what you will regard — my brethren, the members of this church and congregation, you who know any thing of the power and influ- ence of the gospel — as that which alone can realize and accomplish the objects for which you are now assembled. The word of the Lord is glorified when it is the medium of spiritual renovation, when its supreme authority is felt and recog- nised by all who profess to receive it — when its discoveries are cordially received — when its injunctions are practically regarded — when its holy influence is ex- emplified in the tempers and in the con- duct of those who profess to receive it. The word of the Lord is glorified when that word becomes the law of all your thoughts, the rule of all your actions, the authority to which you submit with implicit deference, the principle mould- ing all the elements of your nature into subjection to itself. The word of the Lord is glorified when, by means of that word, sinners are guided to the refuge of mercy, pricked to the heart, are led to exclaim, " What shall we do to be saved V — and are constrained to cast down, at the foot of the cross, the weapons of their hosti- lity, and to const crate tjjemselvf s to the service and honour of the divine Re- deemer. Oh, my beloved friends ! it is the ac- complishment of these objects which alone can furnish the answer to the prayers, and the devotional anxiety, and the earnest solicitudes, of this day. I know too well the heart of my beloved and esteemed brother, the pastor of the church assembling within these walls, not to know that whatever falls short of the realization of this object will not satisfy him. If within these walls sin- ners are led to feel the energy of heavenly truth piercing their consciences, alarming their spirits, leading them to inquire, What shall we do to be saved ? — if those who are driven in from accident, or curi- osity, or even base and unhallowed mo- tives, should, though they came to scoff, return to pray — if the arrow of conviction should enter the conscience and subdue the heart — if the rebel should be brought to submit to the authority of the Re- deemer— if thus, from Sabbath to Sab- bath there should be transmitted from this sanctuary, to the realms of purity and bliss, the glad intelligence that another and another prodigal is brought to the house of his Father, another and another sinner led to repentance, and thus there should be fresh joy in heaven, and the harps of angels should be again'attuned to louder notes of joy, and the Redeemer, looking from his elevation, should be sa- tisfied while witnessing the triumphs of his gospel, and reaping the rewards of his humiliation ; — these will be the ends which alone can accomplish the object of Christian devotion, that alone can realize and consummate the true end for which you are this day gathered together. It is, my brethren, that the word of the Lord may bei glorified. Yes, it is glori- fied not only when sinners, by the energy of God's Spirit making it eflfectual, are turned from darkness to light, but it is glorified when those who receive it ex- emplify its spirit and adorn its doctrines, walking worthy of their high vocation, proving that the gospel is the power of God to their salvation. 190 THE BRITISH PULPIT. Mark, therefore, my beloved brethren, mark the devout solicitude with which the apostle pressed this very object on the attention of the believers in Tiiessa- lonica. The gospel had been glorified among them ; it had had free course, even though persecution scowled ; it had had free course, by turning them from idols to serve the living and true God ; it had had free course, for their characters proved their election, and exhibited the evidence that God had written their names in the book of life ; and thus the gospel, tri- umphing in their hearts, and displaying its practical effects in their lives, was in- deed the power of God to their salvation. But he was not satisfied -^vith what had been effected ; he looked forward to still greater and more important results, and to these very Thessalonians we find him saying, in the language of deep and earn- est solicitude, " We give thanks to God always for you all, making mention of j'ou in our prayers, remembering, with- out ceasing, your work of faith, and la- bour of love, and patience of hope, in our Lord .Tesus Christ." He calls upon them to pray that God might count them wor- thy of their calling, and fulfil in them all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power. When God's word is glorified — Avhen the work of God is carried on with power — when in the unity of the Spirit, in the liberality of feeling, in the exercise of holy charity, in the consistent deportment of those who name the name of Christ, God is glori- fied— it is then, my friends, that we see beautifully accomplished the meaning of the prophetic testimony, " Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and in- stead of the briar shall come up the myrtle tree : and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off." Such, my brethren, are the objects of Christian devotion which the apostle has brought before us in this solemn injunction. But, while the text reminds us of the great objects of Christian zeal and devo- tion, I remark, IL It enjoins the duty of fervent PRAYER IN ORDER TO ITS ACCOMPLISH- " Brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and ' be glorified.''^ The connection between prayer and the success of the gospel is one which in- volves many important principles. We may often find it difficult to prove the connection, but the word of God distinct- ly asserts it — the history of the Christian church demonstrates it — the feelings of all true believers give the inward demon- stration of the reality of it. No one ever doubts the efficacy of prayer till he has forgotten to pray. The moment a man is under the influence of practical scepti- cism in relation to prayer, that moment the power and spirit of prayer have lost their predominancy and their influence over his mind. Prayer is the first indi- cation of spiritual life — prayer is a deci- sive evidence of the advancement of tliat life — prayer is the barometer to determine the elevation and depression of the spi- ritual principle. Li proportion as we feel the power and spirit of prayer, in that proportion we shall be ready to perform every good word and work. And why, my brethren 1 Because, 1st. Prayer honours the agency of God. Prayer moves the hand that moves all things. If we have the ear of God, we are sure of the hand of God. It the spi- rit of supplication be poured out upon us, the very consciousness of that feeling and energy is itself the pledge of success. God himself is the Author of that good and perfect gift. Whatever leads to God comes from God, and whatever comes from God leads to him. He has not en- joined upon us the duty of prayer, be- cause he is unwilling to accomplish the ends for which we pray. He has not en- joined it upon us, because there is uncer- tainty in his plans and purposes. He has not enjoined it upon us because there is any thing like dependence on his part as to our entreaties — as if he would grant that to our fervour which he would not grant in any other circumstances — as if he were moved, as we are moved, by fervent sup- plications. God is not a being of parts or of passions; he is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. But, though "his thought moves on his undisturbed affairs" THE GLORIFICATION OF THE WORD OF GOD. 191 — though he is of one mind and none can turn him — though his counsel will stand, and he will do all his pleasure — it is as much his pleasure to have connected prayer with the accomplishment of his own design as any other species of moral agency. He who has made faith, and hope, and charity, and practical godli- ness, in all its various manifestations, essential to present happiness, and es- sential to your everlasting welfare, has, for the very same reason, made prayer no less essential to the accomplishment of those ends ; and could we resolve the whole matter of this connection into no- thing but his own will and his own de- termination, it would be enough. He who is the Sovereign of the universe, who is the source of all good — he whose blessing is life evermore, and can com- mand it if he please — has a right to com- mand the terms on which the blessing shall be enjoyed ; and he has connected it with prayer, because prayer honours his agency — it is the solemn recognition of it — it brings the mind at once into that posture, that attitude, before the majesty and mercy of the Most High, that leads us to feel that in his sight " we are no- thing, and less than nothing, and vanity." Unless his power work with us, and by us, all our resolutions, and all our doings, will be totally ineffectual. And, therefore, 2diy. Prayer is necessary, because it is expressly enjoined — enjoined by the most explicit revelation on the subject. God has said, "Ask, and it sball be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." " For all these things will I be inquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them." Nay, we find Jehovah putting himself into the very attitude of entreating, and calling upon us to give him no rest till he shall arise, and have mercy on Zion. And he calls his church his remem- brancer. They are to appear before him for the very purpose of putting him in remembrance — not that he forgets, or is unwilling to bestow — not that his pur- poses can ever change, but because he has thus connected the spirit and duty of prayer with the accomplishment of his own designs. 3d. We see- the connection proved, because, in all the institutions (J' the church in every age, and in the history if indivi- dual believers, the spirit of prayer is invU' riably coruiected with success. No one ever prayed for himself that did not succeed. Let this encourage the anxious inquirer — let this tranquillize the troubled spirit in this assembly, who may sometimes be led to fear that God hath not heard, and will not answer, his sup- plications. Oh, persevere in prayer, whatever your present doubts, whatever your misgivings, whatever your fearful apprehensions, whatever your painful and overwhelming anxieties ! Oh, let not the enemy of your souls — let not the temptations of Satan — let not the enjoy- ments of the world — let not the deceit- fulness of your own hearts, cause you to relax in prayer ! If you have not at once all the comfort and all the confi- dence that you would wish to enjoy, con- tinue to pray. " Be instant in prayer — pray without ceasing;" and you will find, sooner or later, that praying breath will never be spent in vain. Can you, brethren, refer to any Christian church, on which the spirit of prayer descended, that was not a successful church 1 Can you mention any individual believer, the head of a family, who was really a man of prayer, who did not succeed in the most important objects that lay nearest his heart ? Can you tell me of any who have ever, really and sincerely, approach- ed the throne of mercy, and sought a blessing from the eternal throne, accord- ing to the will of God, and sought it in faith, and yet have not received it 1 My friends, there is much of practical infi- delity amidst all our professions. We talk more of prayer than we really prac- tise in reference to it. We may defend the duty on the ground of unanswerable argument ; we may refer to the fact which the history of the church in all ages has illustrated, that God is the hearer of prayer; but what we need, for ourselves and for others, is the spirit of prayer. The apostle felt the importance of it, and therefore did he enjoin upon the believers of Thessalonica that they would pray for him, and pray for all connected with him 192 THE BRITISH PULPIT. in the great work of preaching the g-os- pel, that the word of the Lord might be glorified. Oh, let the history of the church, in past ages, encourage you, my friends, to the spirit of prayer I This will be to your own pastor, and to all connected with him in the ministry of the word, the most delightful evidence of the reality of your faith, and the sin- cerity of your devotion. This will be evidence which God himself will ac- knowledge and approve. You never knew eminent usefulness secured with- out an eminent portion of the spirit of prayer. What is it that has embalmed, in the history of the Christian church, the illustrious names of Brainerd and Martyn, and others of modern times, who stood before us arrayed in the beauties of holiness, and who are lights thrown on our path to guide us onward, and to animate us in the Christian pilgrimage ] What was it that distinguished those men ] The spirit of earnest, fervent, persevering prayer. When we see our places of worship crowded at the period when we meet for prayer — when we see the arrangements of social life, as far as possible, made to adjust themselves to the period agreed upon in the church for united prayer — when we see religion made the object, the commanding object, to which every thing else is subservient, both in the arrangements of the family and the world, then will the church arise from her lowly state of degradation — then will she put on her beautiful garments, for God himself will have arrayed her with salvation — then will be the precur- sor that he himself is about to arise, and pour out his Spirit in rich effusion on the 4' church and on the world ; and then will come salvation ; and the kingdoms of the world will become the kingdoms of our God and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever. The duty of prayer is enjoined, 4thly. Because those engaged in pro- moting this object, xvho have it directly in view, whose office it is peculiarly to regard it, have especial claims on you. " Bre- thren, pray for us." It is the prayer of the Christian minis- ter to the church over whom God hath placed him — it is the prayer of the apos tie to the church over which, by divine authority, he was commissioned to pre- side— it is the prayer we present to you ihis day, as the united pastors of churches mingling our supplications with those of our beloved brother at the throne of the heavenly mercy, and we say to you, ^^Breihren, pray for us.''^ The minister is encouraged in his work who knows that his people are thus engaged. Like Moses on the mount, he is upheld by the hands of prayer. The man goes through the labours and the toils of his pastoral duties, and the various engagements of his office, who is surrounded by devout men who bear him up in their affectionate re- membrance in private retirement — in the family circle. When you meet for prayer, if you knew how much of the true com- fort, of the holy courage, of the sacred joy of the Christian minister is connected with the spirit of prayer for him and for the success of his labours, you would never be weary in well doing in this re- spect— you would never forget him. You would not remember him — nor would he be anxious that you should remember him — on the ground of any merely per- sonal and selfish considerations ; but he is anxious you should remember him, be- cause in proportion to the degree of youi zeal, and sincerity, and constanfcy in this work, you will listen to him with affec- tion— his doctrine will distil as the dew, and drop as the rain on the tender grass, and your hearts will be open to receive the ingrafted word. The man who cornea to the sanctuary in the spirit of captious, capricious feeling, desiring to make a man an offender for a word, is one who has not presented for his minister earnest supplication. The man who is indiffer- ent and unmoved, who sits before the pulpit altogether unconscious of the im- portance and authority of the truth pre- sented to his notice, and hears as though he heard not — that man has not the spi rit of earnest and fervent supplication. If he had, there would be vitality — there would be deep and affectionate interest — there would be earnest concern to profit — faith would be mixed with what he hears — there would be a risrht construe- THE GLORIFICATION OF THE WORD OF GOD. 193 tion put on every explanation 5};ivpn, and while there would he a faithful regard to the authority of God's word, as the only rule of doctrine and precept, still there would be that humility, that teachable- ness, which is always found connected with spiritual success, and with social edification. But all this depends on the spirit of prayer ; and if God is to be honoured in this sanctuary by his assembled people — if 3'GU are to comfort the heart of your pastor — if he is to succeed in the hallow- ed work to which he has devoted himself, you must enter into the spirit of this apos- tolical injunction, and pray for him, that the word of the Lord may have free course and be glorified. Your own interest is intimately connected with it. And re- member, brethren, 5thly. And finally on this point, ihat in proportion to the spirit of prayer, really and ho7iesfly cherished, will yoti be prepared to manifest the spirit of activity, of liberality, and if Christian zeal. Holy constancy of prayer will regulate all the motions of the inward man, and all the actions of the outward man ; and you will be holy in all manner of conver- sation, in proportion as you walk humbly with God, take hold of his strength, and maintain a daily correspondence with heaven, and live not to yourselves, but to Him who died for you and rose again. But this apostolic injunction, while it brings before us the great objects of Christian zeal, and enjoins the duty of prayer in order to their accomplishment, in the HI. Place, REFERS TO KNOWN INSTANCES OF SUCCESS, AS A GROUND OF ENCOURAGE- MENT. ^^Brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course and be i^lorifed, even as it is xinth you." I am confident, my brethren, that with- out intending to awaken any feelings whatever allied to self-complacency on your part, much less which could subject the speaker to the charge of adulation, I may with humble confidence and devout gratitude make the appeal of the apostle, in the text, to the church of Christ be- fore me. You, I am persuaded, are not taught by your pasto' to be satisfied with Vol. L— 25 the success which has been secured. You have too high a standard of charac- ter, and motive, and principle, brought before you, to feel self-complFXT CA.ZiLiZJR'y-. NO. XI. TESTIMONV TO THE CHARACTER OF HENRY MARTYN. BY THE LATE REV. R. HALL. The religious public have lately been favoured with a rich accession to the re- corded monuments of exalted piety, in the life and religious experience of the lamented Henry Martyn. It is delightful to behold in the history of that extraordi- nary man, talents, which attracted the admiration of one of the most celebrated seats of learning, consecrated to the hon- our of the cross ; an enterprising genius, in the ardour of youth, relinquishing the pursuit of science and of fame, in order to travel in the steps of a Brainerd and a Schwartz. Crowned with the highest honours a university could bestow, we see him quit the luxurious shades of academic bowers, for a tempestuous ocean and a burning clime, for a life of peril and fatigue, from which he could expect no other reward than the heroic pleasure of communicating to perishing millions the word of eternal life. He appears to have formed his religious character chiefly on the model of Brainerd ; and as he equalled him in his patience, fortitude, humility, and love, so he strictly re- sembled him in his end. Both, nearly at the same age, fell victims to a series of intolerable privations and fatigues, voluntarily incurred in the course of their exertions for the propagation of the faith of Jesus. And though their death was not a violent one, the sacrifices they made, and the sufferings they endured, entitle them to the honours and rewards of a protracted martyrdom. Their memory will be cherished by the veneration of all succeeding ages ; and he who reads their lives will be ready to exclaim, " Here is the faith and patience of the saints." GOD IS LOVE. GoD is love : all his perfections and procedures are but so many modifications of his love. What is his omnipotence but the arm of his love 1 What his om- niscience but the medium through which he contemplates the objects of his love? What his wisdom but the scheme of his love ■? What are the offers of the gospel but the invitations of his level What the threatenings of the law but the w^arn- ings of his love? They are the hoarse voice of his love, saying, " Man ! do thy- self no harm." They are a fence thrown round the pit of perdition, to prevent rash men from rushing into ruin. What was the incarnation of the Saviour but the richest illustration of his love 1 What were the miracles of Christ but the con- descensions of his love ? What were the sighs of Christ but the breath of his love ? What were the prayers of Christ but the pleadings of his love ? W^hat were the tears of Christ but the dew-drops of his love ? What is this earth but the theatre for the display of his love ] What is heaven but the Alps of his mercy, from whose summits his blessings, flowing down in a thousand streams, descend to water and refresh his church situated at its base 1 — Dr. Waugh. SERMON XXXIII. ON THE VICARIOUS SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. BY THE RT. REV. DR. BLOMFIELD, BISHOP OF LONDON. 'For 1 delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures." — 1 Cor. xv. 3. The words which are here rendered " first of all," are otherwise interpreted, and mean, amongst the chief things or principal doctrines of the gospel. It is not very material which of the two sen- tences we attach to the expression ; for the words which St. Paul had delivered to the Corinthians, first in order, were no doubt considered by him to be first in im- portance ; they were the foundation, on which the whole superstructure of Chris- tianity was to be raised. The great and astonishing fact that Jesus Christ died for our sins, as an essential and vital truth of the gospel revelation, occupies every where the most conspicuous place in the preaching of the great gospel : which he himself describes as being emphatically the " preaching of the cross." So en- tirely does the whole fabric of gospel truth appear to him to rest on this one foundation stone, that he speaks of it as being the one needful and sufficient point of knowledge for the Christian minister; — " I determined," he says, " not to know any thing among you save Jesus Christ and him crucified; God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." The hope of Chris- tians, which was made sure by the resur- rection of Jesus, had its root in his cruci- fixion ; for if he had not died for our sins, his rising again would not have esta- blished the fact of our justification; life and immortality would indeed have been 308 ascertained by that stupendous miracle ; but it would have been to the conscious sinner a life of seclusion from the pre- sence of God and an immortality of wo. Whatever comfort is to be derived from the reflection, that the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is the earnest and assurance of our own, derives all its efficacy frop the truth that he died for our sins. It is only through this medium that the prospects of the eternal world can be contemplated without apprehen- sion by sinful man, — it is this considera- tion alone which enables us to view the attributes of God with complacency and comfort, and diffuses over them a sweet and attractive view of love. The suffer- ings and death of our Saviour Christ are indeed a most interesting and important subject of inquiry, as evincing his perfect sincerity and devotedness, and proving his own entire conviction of the truth of what he taught ; and we are by no means to lose sight of this consideration in view- ing the benefits which have been derived by us from that wonderful act of conde- scension and goodness. But if we go no farther than this, we stop very far short of the whole truth ; and our notions of that part of the Christian economy, which the apostle held to be of primary and vital importance, will be miserably defective and inaccurate. If the death of Christ was nothing more than his last and most decisive attestation of the truth of his THE VICARIOUS SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. 309 teaching, it was a mere historical fact in- volving in itself no peculiar doctrine, — a fact, of which St. Paul could not have been ignorant if he had ever heard the name of Jesus ; and yet he says that he received it, that is to say, by revelation ; the subject of that revelation being, not simply the fact that Christ had died, but that he had died for our sins. Again, had our blessed Lord submitted to a painful and ignominious death, only for the puri)ose of establishing his own veracity, and setting a seal to the truth of the message of holiness which he had proclaimed, it might indeed have been said of Him, considering how deeply, the best interests of mankind were involved in the belief of that message, he laid down his life for the sake of mankind, — for their improvement and for their in- struction; but in no intelligible sense of the word could it be said, that, he died for their sins ; the particle/or — " died for their sins" — being in the original a word which signifies on account of; evidently implying, that as siii caused the death of Christ, so the death of Christ was to be the cause of God's forgiving sin. The expression ^^for our sins,^^ cannot reasona- bly be taken in any other sense than this — in expiation of our sins ; as in the fifth chapter of the epistle to the Hebrews ; " Every high priest taken from among men, is ordained for men in things per- taining to God, that he may oifer both gifts and sacrifices for sins." But the concluding words of the text are quite decisive, as to the sense in which Jesus Christ is declared, by the apostle, to have died for our sins. " I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures," that is to say, according to the prophecies, concerning the Mes- siah, which are contained in the Jewish Scriptures. In these prophecies, there- fore, we may expect to find, not merely the declaration, that the Messiah, the anointed one, should die, but some inti- mation of the manner in which his death should be connected with the sins of mankind ; and such in fact is the charac- ter of these predictions. Had the writers of the New Testament been altogether silent as to the great object which was to be achieved by the voluntary death of Christ, the prophets of the Old would have furnished an explanation of that act of humiliation and mercy, calculated to satisfy all our anxiety, and to animate all our hopes ; and to make the gospel dispensation appear in its true colours, as afibrdinga complete and sovereign remedy for sin. That the prophets distinctly an- nounced the connexion between the suf- ferings of Christ and the salvation of mankind is a fact pointed out by St. Pe- ter, of which salvation he says : " The prophets have inquired and searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace which should come unto them searching what or what manner of time, the Spirit of Christ, which was in them, did signify, when it testified beforehand the suffer- ings of Christ and the glory that should follow." More particularly in the great and evangelical prophet, the doctrine of the atonement is clearly and unequivo- cally marked out, that we should find in his glorious foreshadowing of gospel truth, a sure and immovable foundation for this vital doctrine : and even if it had not been seen, as in fact it is, so inter- woven with the whole texture of apostolic teaching, every attempt to separate it would lacerate and mutilate the Christian system, and leave it disfigured with an open inconsistency. Let us hear it : " Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgres- sion, he was bruised for our iniquities : the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. AU we like sheep have gone astray ; and the Lord hath laid upon him the iniquity of us all. For the transgression of my people was he stricken." No Christian, it is to be presumed, will dispute that these prophecies relate to the sufferings and death of the Messiah; and will any one, whether a Christian or not, deny that the suflferings are described and are spoken of as expiatory, undergone by one person in the stead of others, and for the purpose of redeeming them from the consequences of their sins. What is the commentary 310 THE BRIllSH PULPIT. of the apostle upon this sublime and atFecting prophecy 1 Hear the words of St. Peter; — •' Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps : who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth : who, when he was reviled, reviled not again : when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously : who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we being dead to sin, should live unto right- eousness : by whose stripes ye were healed." The prophet says, " For the transgression of my people was he smit- ten." The apostle says to the Romans, " He was delivered for our offences ;" and to the Galatians, " He gave himself for our sins." Again, the language of Isaiah is, " The chastisement of our peace was upon him." St. Paul tells the Ephesians, " But now in Christ Jesus, ye who some- times were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ." " He was led as a lamb to the slaughter," is the prophetical de- scription ; — " Ye were redeemed," says the apostle, " with the precious blood of Christ, as of a Lamb without blemish and without spot." Were there any doubt as to the bearing of this prophecy upon the doctrine of satisfaction and atonement, it would be removed by the express prediction of the angel solemnly delivered to Daniel — that the Messiah should " finish transgression and make an end of sin, and make reconciliation for iniquity." If therefore, my brethren, Christ died for our sins according to the Scripture, he died in expiation of those sins, — he died to reconcile man to God. But the Scriptures of the Old Testa- ment set forth the expiatory nature of Christ's suffering and death; not merely in express prophecy, but in the imagery of type and shadow. It is to this more particularly, that St. Paul refers in the passage which I recommend to your most serious and careful perusal, as most com- pletely establishing the doctrine of the atonement, — I mean the ninth and tenth of Hebrews. Under the law, offences committed in ignorance, or through inad- vertency, might be expiated by certain sacrifices, which were called, on that account, sin-offerings, or trespass-ofler- ings ; but those sacrifices went no farther than to procure a remission of the tem- poral punishment due to those offences ; in consideration of them, God being pleased to withhold his immediate judg- ment which had been denounced against offenders. But it was impossible that such offerings could, by any intrinsic worthiness of their own, make amends for sin, or appease the righteous Judge of mankind ; that could only be effected by a sacrifice of a very different kind, of which those were merely the shadows : )'et they were the shadows, and therefore they resembled the substance as to their outward appearance, especially in one remarkable feature, — in the shedding of blood : — " Almost all things," says the apostle, in the passage above referred to, " are by the law purged with blood ; and without shedding of blood there is no remission. It was therefore necessary that the pattern of things in the heavens," that is, the things under the spiritual dispensation, " should be purified with these ; for Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true ; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us ; nor yet, that he should offer himself often, as the high priest entereth into the holy place every year with blood of others ; for then must he often have suffered since the foundation of the world :" that is, since the Mosaic dis- pensation : " but now once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself." — This then is the reasoning of the apostle, as the expiatory sacrifices under the law offered year by year continually, were effectual, by God's gracious appointment, to procure remission of the temporal punishment due to offences under the Mosaic law ; so the sacrifice of Christ and his precious blood shed upon the cross, offered by him once for all in the heavenly sanctuary, is effectual to the remission of those penalties which are, from the nature of eternal justice, due to the sins of all mankind, for which it is impos- sible that the blood of bulls and of goats could ever be taken as a commutation. THE VICARIOUS SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. 311 Aflrr sucli tpstiinony as this, we may well dispense with all further argument, to prove FIRST, That Christ died for our sins, AND SKCONDLV, That He died fur our sins according to the Scriptures. This is, in truth, the point to which all the Scrip- tures directly or by implication tend, — this is the centre to which all the lines of Christian verity verge ; Christ cruci- fied to take away the sins of the world, according to the pre-determined council of God ; foreshadowed, by his Holy Spi- rit, in prophecy and type ; carried into effect by the unwilling- agency of those who rejected and despised him. If the death of our Saviour Christ had not been a real and complete expiation for the sins of mankind, — had not effected an atone- ment, that is to say, the reconciliation of men wdth God, the whole system of Scripture might have been deprived of its characteristic beauty, and enervated of its strejiglh. The apparatus of prophecy, of type, and emblem would have wanted its corresponding reality under the gos- pel dispensation ; the revelation vouch- safed, by the Holy Spirit, of the nature of the divine attributes, the law of holi- ness, and the sinfulness of man — \\hile they enhanced and magnified the glory of God, would have blotted out the hand- writing of ordinances. The incarnation of our Lord and Sa- viour Christ is the great mystery of god- liness; it is a mystery in itself, but it is a mystery of godliness only when viewed in connexion with its end, — the death of an all-sufficient Mediator. His doctrines were the emanation of perfect wisdom, holiness, and love ; and they proceeded from his love in all the persuasiveness of reality; — the works which he did testi- fied the truth of his declaration, that he was the Son of God; and it was placed beyond all dispute by the most won- derful of his miracles, — his resurrection from the dead. Therefore of the truth of his religion, of his divine authority, and its paramount obligation on the con- sciences of mankind, I can entertain no doubt. But in what respects am I a gainer by the light which has thus been shed on the whole of the promises of God, — by the instruction they have given of th(? perfect law of holiness, — by the promises of reward, nay, by the prospect of immortality, if I am at the same time assured of what my own reason and con- science too plainly suggest to me, that obedience, complete, unvaried obedience, is not within my power, and that, if it were possible for me to do all that God requires of me, I should still be an un- profitable servant, deserving of no thanks, Bud no recompense ? What then have I to look for, knowing how infinitely short I come to such a sinless, though unpro- fitable obedience'? I am compelled to acknowledge with shame and confusion of face, that my sins are more in number than the hairs of my head. The gospel without the atonement might certainly contribute to my present ease and com- fort, by regulating my actions and de- sires ; and it would promote the peace and well-being of society, because it incul- cates the duties of forbearance and love : but it would not remove the load of guilt which lies so heavily on me in the sight of a just and holy God ; although it might diminish, for it could never do away, the number of my actual transgressions, it would not suffice to calm the pangs of remorse, it would not mitigate the horrors of the parting hour, without the fair pros- pect of deliverance from the WTath to come. But admit the doctrine of the atonement, and the gospel at once appears, as it was described by the angel who heralded the birth of its divine author, not only " Glory to God in the highest" — but " On earth peace ;" peace between man and God, Christ reconciling man unto God by the cross, having slain the enmity thereby. The gospel is indeed the glory of God ; but it is from the cross alone that it beams with a healing reviv- ing light. The brightness of his presence would be unapproachable and intolerable were it not shrouded by the veil of suf- fering humanity, in the person of his in- carnate Son, dying for the express pur- pose of bringing us near to God. For " now in Christ Jesus, ye who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ." " It is not, therefore, by the precepts merely of the gospel, nor by the revelations of the gospel, nor by the ordi- 312 THE BRITISH PULPIT. nances of the church, that sinners are brought nigh unto God, but by the blood of Christ: and the precepts, and revela- tion and promises and aids of the gospel — all were in evidence of the efficacy which we derive from the shedding of that precious blood. On this superstruc- ture stands the whole spiritual temple. It is the source of humility, the object of faith, the principle of sanctification, the key to all the treasures of God's mercy. On this ground then, as believers in the gospel, we take our stand ; if we recede one hair's breadth from this we relinquish that which holds the whole system to- gether. If Christ died not for our sins according to the Scriptures — if his death was not a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice and oblation for the sins of the world, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain; but if it was, we have that assurance which alone can satisfy the desires and appease the anxie- ties of a conscious sinner; we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, and he is the propitiation for our sins. Well, it may be said, we admit that the words of Scripture seem to favour your supposition, but we cannot believe it, it surpasses the grasp of our reason ; we cannot understand it; "it is a hard saying, who can bear it?" What right have you to expect that nothing should be proposed in holy Scripture for your belief, but that which you can thoroughly comprehend 1 Undoubtedly you can comprehend the fact that Jesus Christ did die for our sins, although you may be wholly ignorant of the mode in which his propitiation was effectual, and of the rea- sons which moved the supreme arbiter of the universe to accept that wonderful mode of reconciliation. The Scripture not only proposes to us the doctrine of the divine Redeemer, but it proposes it expressly as a mystery — a great mysterj'^ ; thus primarily excluding it, as to its mode, from the legitimate province of reason, and classing it among the things which are to be believed, simply and ex- clusively, because God has revealed them to us. No doubt it would gratify the pride, and satiate the curiosity of man, to be made acquainted with all the reasons of God's providence, especially with the secrets of redemption, those hidden springs of love and holiness which were in action before the foundation of the world ; but there are some of the divine councils into which even the angels de- sire to look, and this probably is one of them. The expiatory sacrifice of Christ, and his divine nature which alone made that expiation so infinitely meritorious, are not the onl)' mysterious features of God's dealings with mankind. The moral state of man is a mystery throughout, a mys- tery respecting which reason must be content with the light which revelation casts upon it ; and even with that light it can only be viewed " as through a glass darkly." For what can be more myste- rious than the origin of sin and evil in the world ] A question on which all the powers of human reason have been ex- erted without success, which no man pre- tends to consider as clear and easy of comprehension ; and if the origin of sin and evil be mysterious, what reason have we to conclude that its remedy should not be mysterious 1 My brethren, if you believe the Scrip- tures, and apply to them the ordinary rules of interpretation, nay, if you do not torture and disfigure them for the express purpose of getting rid of the mystery, (and even then you cannot blot it out from the blessed gospel,) you cannot fail to perceive the word " atonement,'''' writ- ten therein in characters of light. Con- sult then your own conscience ; go down into the chambers of imagery, unravel the secrets of your heart, see what they are. and what they ought to be, and what of themselves they never can be, and you will wish the doctrine to be true. Em- brace it cordially, and with prayer for the increase of your faith, and you will soon feel the force of the exclamation, " Oh wretched man that I am, who shall de- liver me from this body of sin and death V Once convinced of your own sinfulness and insufficiency, you will readily admit that it is indeed " a saying worthy of all acceptation,that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." But then is it not an awful as well as THE VICARIOUS SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. 313 an acceptable saying] That our great intercessor and surety hath put away sin, is indeed a joyful announcement ; that he hath done so by the sacrifice of himself, is a subject of endless wonder and grati- tude ; that expiation could not otherwise be made, is a truth above all others cal- culated to exhibit the exceeding sinful- ness of sin, — its hatefulness in the sight of God. Let each man apply that truth to his own case, and say — It was for me that Jesus died upon the cross ; it was for me that he endured the contradiction of sinners ; it was my sin bowed down his holy head with sorrow in Gethsemane — planted upon his brow the crown of thorns — pierced his hands and his feet; nay, those very sins which, day by day, and hour by hour, I am committing, and by which, as far as in me lies, I render those sufferings and that death of none effect. Can any contemplation be more awful than this 1 Can we imagine a more powerful discouragement to sin ? And if it be less effectual to us than it ought to be, it is because we are not sufficiently alive to the twofold sense in which Jesus Christ died for our sins. He died to re- deem us not only from the penalty of sin, but from its power, by opening a way for the Holy Spirit into the soul of man, and purchase glory to God, by the renewal of sinners to holiness. " Christ," says St. Paul, " hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us." But the same apostle tells us that, " He gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us from this present evil world." But then a deep, heartfelt, abiding sense, not merely an historical belief, but a cor- dial and joyful acquiescence in the truth, that Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, also delivers us from its power ; for it cannot be that such a con- viction should take place in the soul, with- out prayer, and meditation, and drawing its affections and desires towards God. Still less can we conceive it possible that any person could really believe the vital doctrine of the atonement who neg- lects the ordinance appointed by the Great Atoner for the express purpose of keeping alive the remembrance of that crowning act. " Do this in remembrance of me" — not merely your master, your friend, your instructer, but of me your Saviour. Let this remind you not merely of my sojourn upon earth, of my teaching, of my miracles ; but of my death, my body broken, and my blood shed upon the cross for the remission of your sins ; and not yours only, but the sins of the whole world. Is it too strong a condem- nation to say, that the neglect of the Lord's Supper is a practical denial of the atonement 1 Blessed Jesus, Saviour of the world ! can we behold thee stretched upon the cross, enduring shame and agony for our sins, shedding forth that precious blood with which thou hast re- deemed us on the cross, upheld under all thy sufferings by the desire of saving us miserable sinners from eternal death — can we contemplate this spectacle, and yet contemn and refuse the consecrated sym- bols of that body so broken, that blood which was so shed for our sins 1 Oh send thy Holy Spirit to pour into our souls those gracious influences, by which alone we can realize to ourselves the blessed fruits of thy cross and passion, strengthening our faith, subduing our in- ordinate affections, and animating our hopes with clearer and clearer prospects of that glory, in which we shall stand around the throne, and join in the tri- umphant hymn which shall then be raised by all the redeemed of the earth — " Wor- thy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and honour, and riches, and wis- dom, and strength, and glory." — " Bless- ing and honour and glory, be to Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever." Vol. L— 40 2D SERMON XXXIV. THE MADNESS AND FOLLY OF RELIGION. DELIVERED TO MEDICAL STUDENTS, BY THE REV. T. BINNEY. " The prophet is afool,the spiritual man is mad." — Hosea ix. 7. I SHALL not detain you by any minute criticism on the exact and literal applica- tion of this lanoruage ; suffice it to say, that it is capable of two senses, accord- ing as you regard it as the cause, or as the eff&ct, of the " days" of " visitation" and of " recompense," mentioned in the pre- ceding clause of the verse. If you take it to describe the cause of that visitation or judgment which was coming on the land, it will then mean that the prophets and spiritual men, or men inspired by the Spirit, and commissioned to address the people with the authority of God — that they had actually been accounted fools and madmen — that they had been ridi- culed and scorned as " vain babblers" — that their messages had been treated with contempt, and themselves with indignity — and that, therefore, Jehovah, who had thus been despised and insulted in the persons of his own prophets, had deter- mined to punish the offenders by bring- ing upon them some terrible visitation. If you take it, in the second sense, as describing the effect of this visitation, it will then mean that those who had long been disobedient to the divine voice, as addressed to them by the commissioned servants and in the " true sayings" of God, should at length be given up, as an appropriate punishment, to the influence of strong delusion, that they might be- lieve a lie — that men, pretending to be prophets, and falsely laying claim to in- tercourse with the Spirit, should arise 3U among them, and be permitted to deceiv them to their destruction — that these pro- phets should be fools and fanatics, though the infatuated multitude should confide in their counsels — and t\\L\t they, however venerated and obeyed for their spiritual pretensions, should only resemble the ora- cles and soothsayers of the heathen, of whom it is said by Isaiah, that God " turn- eth their wise men backward, changeth their knowledge into folly, and maketh their diviners mad." This last sense is perhaps the more probable of the two ; but, as the thing described in the first actually occurred among the Hebrews, whether intended in this passage or not, it is in allusion to that that we shall be guided in our ob- servations this morning. " Theprophet is a fool, the spiritual man is mad.''^ Such was both the feeling and the phraseology indulged in by many of the Jews, in rela- tion to the very men of whom they had every evidence that they came from God, It sometimes meant the utter rejection of their message, and was intended to ex- press an absolute disbelief of the matter of their testimony — and it sometimes meant a disapprobation of their zeal, and was intended only to censure the warmth and earnestness of manner with which they enforced what was admitted to be true. The phrase was also sometimes employed to stigmatize the penitent and the spiritual among the people, who, in obedience to conscience and to truth. THE MADNESS AND FOLLY OF RELIGION. 315 abandoned their follies and returned to God — according to the representation of one of the prophets, " He that departeth from evil is accounted mad." Now, something similar to all this takes place among ourselves. Human nature is the same now in this country that it was in the land of Judea three thousand years ago. Its dislike of God and of his servants is the same. Its pride and affectation of superiority is the same. It still has a high conceit of its capaci- ties and powers, and it expresses that conceit by despising, as unworthy its re- gard, the discoveries of revelation, or by ridiculing the weakness of the men who either enforce them with earnestness or who follow them with fidelity. " The preacher is a fool, and his disciple is mad." This is its language; and this proud and petulant conclusion — this judg- ment pronounced without examination and without thought, settles the matter, it should seem, for the passing moment — raises the mirth of the young, the vola- tile, and the vain — affords them the ra- tional and dignified satisfaction of laugh- ing at the weakness of the man who has courage to be virtuous — and preserves them in the enjoyment of the very lauda- ble liberty of making themselves as con- temptible and as wicked as they please ! Let us proceed, then, to examine the sanity and the w/sc?o»i of conduct like this by examining the madness and the folly with which it wars. " The Christian preacher is a fool, and the Christian dis- ciple is mad." The man who " walks in the Spirit," and the man who " con- verts him from the error of his way," are considered alike to be imbecile or insane. Such, it is not to be denied, is the real sentiment both of the infidel, who rejects the truth of Christianity altogether, and of the worldly and irreligious among its professed recipients, who deride the ha- bits and the principles of the pious. Let us examine it. " The prophet is a fuol.'''' The Hebrew term, "prophet," signifies, in Christian phraseology, a preaclier — one who ex- pounds the Scriptures, and promulgates the gospel : and in this sense we use it here. To judge, then, of the folly of the man, the absurdity of his office, and the mental weakness of his own character, let us notice what he is, and what he aim« to accomplish. The Christian prophet is the publi'- expositor of a book whose claim to bw considered a divine revelation has been admitted, after prolonged research, by th« master-spirits of every age — men who have been distinguished by splendid ge- nius— varied capacity — pure and elevated intellect — profound and diversified acqui- sitions ; a book whose pretensions are supported by several distinct processes of argument, each, separately and alone, amounting to moral proof; the whole, when combined, approaching to some- thing like positive demonstration, Thia book is the most singularly constructed of any in the world : it consists of a num ber of small tracts, about sixty-six, th< composition of above thirty individuals- persons of all classes, from kings to pea sants — of various education — of everj kind and measure of intellectual ability — and who lived scattered over a period ot far more than a thousand years : and yet this book, thus composed, is always con- sistent with itself — it has a beginning, a middle, and an end ; it is evidently a whole ; it is the realization of the idea of one mind, executed by a number of others, who, like the labourers and masons under direction of an architect, could have had no conception of the completed appear- ance of the edifice upon which they were employed, but who laid stone upon stone in blind obedience, until the whole stood forth in its sublimity and perfection. This book contains in it the best account of the origin of the universe, and the best interpretation of the present appearances of the earth and man. It teaches the sublimest theology ; it reveals a God, spiritual in his essence — perfect in all natural and moral attributes — the creator and governor of the world ; it prescribes a worship suitable to his high and holy character, and directly tending to improve and to elevate that of his worshippers. This book accounts for, and all along proceeds upon, the fact of the apostasy and sinfulness of man — a fact illustrated by all history, confessed and lamented bj 316 THE BRITISH PULPIT. moralists of all ages, and corroborated by personal observation and personal con- sciousness. It proposes a plan of mercy, and reveals means of restoration, pre- cisely adapted to this condition of our nature ; which meets at once the fears and apprehensions prompted by guilt, and the weakness and corruption flowing from depravity. This book sets before the view of its disciples the highest pos- sible standard of excellence ; it places the principles of morals on the firmest basis ; it enforces them by the highest sanctions ; it carries them to the farthest extent ; and encourages obedience by the most affecting and powerful motives. In the principal personage whose life it con- tains, it exhibits a perfect model of all that is dignifying and beautiful in charac- ter ; and, in the history of every other individual, nothing is recorded but what has a tendency either to stimulate to obe- dience, or to deter from transgression. Finally — for time would fail me to enu- merate all the distinguishing peculiari- ties of the volume in question — this book reveals a future world in such a manner as carries with it the stamp of divinity, both by what it says and by what it does not say : — it descends to no minute and curious descriptions ; the speakers and writers seem to exercise the most singu- lar control over the fancy and imagina- tion, when touching upon topics the most tempting to men pretending to familiarity with the invisible and the future ; there is a soberness, a calmness, and a grandeur about their discoveries of the worlds that are not seen, just fitted to affect us with solemn delight and salutary terror; there is nothing to provoke or to satisfy imper- tinent curiosity, or to degrade the subject by the ridiculous and the mean; there is every thing, however, to render the repre- sentation what it is intended to be, and which falls in with the evident design of the whole communication — namely, an instrument for promoting the greatest im- provement of which our nature is capa- ble, and the highest happiness for which it was made. Such is a description — and, permit me to remind you, a very, very imperfect description — of that wonderful book, the principles of which it is the duty of the Christian prophet to illustrate and en- force. Let us next observe how he does this. It is his business to imbibe a por- tion of that exalted spirit which pervades every page of this extraordinary record — to come forth, from time to time, and ad- dress himself to his fellows in the accents of love and with the eloquence of the heart ; he is to exhibit the great princi- ples of religious and moral truth, with simplicity, seriousness, and affection ; he is to take man as he finds him — an un- happy and guilty intelligence — made up of contradictory impulses — with a per- ception of right, and a bias to wrong — " sowing the wind, and reaping the whirl- wind ;" he is to reveal to him a system which precisely meets the necessities of his nature, and he is to carry it out, when professed to be received, into all the most exalted forms of personal character and social virtue. He is to inform the igno- rant, rouse the sluggish, animate the de- sponding, encourage the active, and com- fort the distressed ; he is to warn the impenitent, rebuke the inconsistent, ter- rify the vicious, expose the hypocritical, and denounce the ungodly ; he is to do all this — and more than this — in a way wonderfully adapted to the nature of man, and to the actual and unavoidable condi- tion of the great mass of the species : — men are to be congregated together, and there, while in a manner passive, without any severe demand upon their faculties, they are to be made familiar with the sublimest conceptions — to be interested and impressed by the living voice — to be urged to aspire after the glory and happi- ness of another world, while they are taught all that it becomes them to be in relation to the present. This simple and peculiar mode, by which the Christian prophet is to make his truths teJl upon the condition and the character of society, is at once suited to man as man, whose na- ture is made to be affected by such an instrument ; and it is suited to the nu- merous children of labour and of toil, who must depend upon strong impres- sions from without for vivid and exten- sive conceptions of religious truth and religious duty. THE MADNESS AND FOLLY OF RELIGION. 317 Such is the Christian prophet in his furniture, his office, and his aims. If time permitted, it would be easy to show that his influence upon society has been always and immensely beneficial — I mean of course when he has continued to be what he was at first, and what he is in- tended to be by ihe system to which he belongs — neither degraded to the condi- tion of a political drudge, nor raised and corrupted into that of a prince and a po- tentate. It was the voice of the preacher that shook the gods of the ancients from the heaven they had usurped — that com- pelled them to vacate their thrones and their temples, and to relinquish the ty- ranny they had so long exercised over the heathen world. It was the Christian preacher that introduced a new stream of ideas into the human mind — ideas that gave to morals a higher tone, and to reli- gion a positive existence. It was the efforts of the Christian preacher that changed the character of nations and the complexion of literature. Even in the dark ages, when he had become indolent, vicious, silent, and corrupt, it was by him that the lamp of knowledge was pre- served from being totally extinguished ; it was by him that it was trimmed and fed, and brought forth to guide and to gladden the nations, when he aroused them from the sleep and the superstition of centuries. It was by the voice of the preacher that religion was reformed ,• it was by the erudition of the preacher, and by the effect of his agency on the public mind, that the revival of learning was accelerated and encouraged. In our own country it was by the Christian preacher — it was in consequence of the spirit pro- moted by his religion, and the influence exerted by his office, that civil liberty was saved — that the tree was planted and nourished, under whose shade we repose, and whose fruit we gather; and, in the present day, I do not hesitate to affirm that it is the preacher who exerts the greatest influence on the positive vir- tue and happiness of the nation ; it is by him that every society is advocated, and every agent encouraged, that aims at the moral education of the children of the poor, or the religious advantage of the poor themselves. It is by the preacher that the purest principles of conduct are kept before the view of the mass of the people — that they are impressed upon the moral sense, and made to exert an influ- ence in the formation of character. It is by the preacher that an element of conso- lation, contentment, and joy is made to go forth and to diffuse itself over the hearts and the habitations of the children of toil and poverty, of sorrow and misfor- tune. It is by him that the guilty are called to penitence, the penitent led to pardon, and the pardoned filled " with joy and peace in believing." In short, to see what is actually effected by the preacher, and to be assisted in calculating the amount of good for which society is indebted to him, only imagine that the whole race of the Christian prophets were extinguished — that their places of instruction were closed — that their voices were never heard, and their influence never felt: imagine either that they were not succeeded by any public teachers at all — that the whole people were left without any thing whatever in the form of oral instruction ; or imagine that the preacher was universally succeeded by the advocates of the modern coarse and vulgar infidelity; and then fancy what would be the consequence — the conse- quence of this change to the virtue and happiness of the nation — and say, say if you can, that you could contemplate ihat result with any feelings but those of me- lancholy and concern, if not, indeed, with apprehension and terror. I now ask the question, but I shall not stay to attempt to answer it ; I shall leave that principally to yourselves — I ask the question, Is the prophet a fool? Can you really believe if? Can you preierid to believe if? When you have brought be- fore you all that he professes to be, and all that he attempts to accomplish — when you think of what he has done, and of what he is doing — can you seriously unite either in the depreciation of his preten- sions, or in ridicule of his office ? Place upon one side all the evidence in support of the divinity of the book which the preacher is to expound, and all the facts illustrative of his immense and beneficial 2d2 318 THE BRITISH PULPIT. influence on society — and place, upon the other, the incredible propositions which he must of necessity believe who rejects the first, and the state of feeling he must possess who could view the second with coldness and indifference ; contrast the character of both minds — that of the preacher and that of his opponent : con- trast them as to their intellectual condi- tion and moral properties ; and determine for yourselves which of the two is best entitled to the epithet in the text. " The prophet is a fooW'' This lan- guage might be further illustrated, not as the sentiment of the infidel objector, but as that of the man who professes him- self a Christian, but who is offended by tlie earnestness and enthusiasm with which the preacher exhibits his theme, and urges its acceptance. On this, how- ever, we shall merely remark, that either on the admission of the truth of what the preacher promulgates, or on the suppo- sition of its falsehood, but with the ad- mission that the preacher himself believes it to be true — in either case the charge of imbecility and folly must rest with the man who could make such admissions, and yet be willing to witness, in the ad- vocate of this truth, or this supposed truth, any thing but the most fervid zeal, and impassioned enthusiasm. In the es- timation of the preacher, he is in posses- sion of the grand secret by which alone humanity can be permanently benefited — that secret which God himself has reveal- ed, for the very purpose of saving an apos- tate species, and restoring the harmony of the world ; he believes that the highest happiness of the present life, and the very possibi lit y of happiness in the next, depends on the reception of the truth which he is concerned to teach ; he who considers that this must be the feeling of the Christian prophet, on the supposition of his moral sincerity, instead of wonder- ing at the warmth with which the duties of the office are occasionally discharged, will rather wonder at the tameness and apathy by which those who sustain it are too frequently distinguished. Enthusi- asm is a term employed in a good sense, and is used to describe the feeling with which men often devote themselves to national interests and secular professions. The politician, the poet, the painter, the man of science and of literature, or, what is more to the purpose at present, the physician and the surgeon, who give themselves to the science and the philo- sophy of their profession — wlio enlarge its boundaries, unravel its mysteries, and promote its advancement — these men are spoken of with rapture for the extrava' gance and eccentricity of zeal which they consume on the promotion of their fa- vourite pursuits ; they are thus spoken of by the very men who, when a mere tithe of such zeal appears in the professors of a science in comparison with which every other sinks into insignificance, are ever ready to express their pity, in the lan- guage of contempt — the prophet is a fool, or the preacher is mad ! Now, conduct like this is just any thing but wisdom. To use a familiar comparison, which, with your professional predilections, you will readily understand, it is like the feeling of a man who, on seeing the successful application of medicine in suddenly rais- ing an individual from the bed of sick- ness, and bringing him forth into society in vigour and in health, should fix his admiration, not upon the skill of the phy- sician who had restored the patient, but upon the skill of the operatives who se- lected the fashion of his coat, or the figure of his shoe. Any extravagance, in fact, on the subject of religion is more rational and more dignified than indifference ; and any folly is tolerable and innocent but that which admires the enthusiasm often absurdly devoted to present interests and temporary claims, and condemns that which belongs to the eternal, the infinite, and the future. It is time, however, to advance to the illustration of the second clause, " the spiritual man is mad." " The spiritual man is mad!" This we take to be the language of the man of mere secular virtue, who indeed may pro- fess himself a Christian, and who may be distinguished for much that is amiable in manners, and excellent in character. This is his language in allusion to the methodist ,• that is, to the consistent disci- ple of the preacher — one who carries his THE MADNESS AND FOLLY OF RELIGION. 319 principles into practice, and who becomes distinoruished by the peculiarities and habits of the religious life. In order to judge of the justice of the epithet, let us take the lowest form of the men of spiritual attainment, and the high- est form of the men of secular virtue, and let us ascertain ivhich of the two deserves most to be admired and approved, upon the principles of enlightened and purified reason. The spiritual or religious man may be one of but little grasp of intel- lect, with limited abilities, circumscribed knowledge, and even distinguished by some mental weaknesses, which excite, in those who know his worth and respect him most, deep and durable regret ; yet, with all this, he is sincerely and consist- ently a Christian — that is the point, he is sincerely and consistently a Christian : that is, he is conscious of sin, and he therefore indulges the feelings of con- trition and repentance : he desires for- giveness, and he seeks it by humble faith in the propitiatory sacrifice ; he is sensible of depravity, and he there- fore asks the influence of that Spirit which the Scriptures reveal to purify his afifections ; he is convinced of the exist- ence of God, and the claims which he has on his veneration and regard, and he therefore cultivates the habit of devotion, and studies to honour him by conscien- tious obedience ; he is ignorant, and he therefore aims at enlarging his acquaint- ance with truth, by the daily perusal of the written word : he believes the pro- mises of Scripture, he therefore pleads them in prayer, and confides in them in practice ; he considers himself as ad- vancing rapidly to eternity, and hence he lives in diligent preparation for the cir- cumstance of death ; he reads of heaven, and of hell, and he is anxious to be fitted for the one, and to escape the other ; he finds himself required to glorify God, by acting under the influence of religious motives, by the exercise of faith, and by benevolent regard to the interests of others — and he attempts all this in hum- ble dependence on divine assistance, and yet with watchfulness and vigour in the voluntary employment of his faculties and powers. Such are a few of the cha- racteristics by which the spiritual man ip distinguished, and for which he is ridi- culed and stigmatized as deserving the contemptuous application of the epithet in the text. Observe, then, in the next place, the conduct and the character of the man by whom this epithet is so freely bestowed. This man you may suppose to be as ex- cellent and distinguished, in the moral and intellectual properties of his charac- ter, as it is possible for a human being to be. He may possess genius, talents, and sensibility ; he may be amiable, honoura- ble, and benevolent; may have acquired the highest rank in his profession ; he may be loved for his modesty, and vene- rated for his worth : yet, with all this, he may be chargeable with such immense deficiencies of character as amount to nothing short of that very madness Avhich he attributes to others. There is another world as well as the present — a world for which, though professing to expect it, this man has made no preparation ; there is a God, but he neglects him — perhaps profanes his name, and dishonours his sabbaths. He professes to believe the Bible, but he never opens it — to believe in Christ, but he practically rejects him — to have committed sin, but he never repents of it — to expect death, but he lives as if he were immortal. He says that he believes there is a heaven, but to be fitted for its enjoyments excites none of his solicitude — that there is a hell, but he makes no efforts, in humble accordance with the dictates of revelation, to escape the penalty it is intended to inflict. Now, let any person of common sense just re- flect for a moment on the characters in question, and let him honestly say which of the two is to be " accounted mad ;"— ■ he who, with all his ignorance and weak- ness, is alive to the sublime relations he sustains to eternity ; or he who, what- ever may be his abilities, is confining them to the concerns and the advantages of a moment, and losing the distinctions of that endless existence which, all the time, he professes to expect ! — The eter- nal God has determined the matter, by telling us that to the man who cares only to be rich in relation to earth, whether 320 THE BRITISH PULPIT. Jiat consist in wealth or in talent, sepa- rate from religion, that to iJuit man, the epithet of '■'■fool'''' is applied in the vo- cabulary of heaven ! The subject might be further illustrated by taking- an individual who, after years passed in moral insensibility, or criminal indulgence, should suddenly be affected by religious truth, and should rise into the character of a religious man. We might take such a person, and, consider- ing the scorn, and ridicule, and laughter with which he would be assailed by his former associates, we might contrast his conduct with theirs — his who awakes, as it were, to the voice of reason, and to the suggestions and impulses of his better nature — and theiis who continue imbruted in the bondage of the flesh, degraded and chained by the slavery of the senses. The thing, however, is too absurd to be patiently pursued ; for the impure and the profligate to talk of the madness of the man who breaks from their confede- racy, and to laugh at him as if he had forsaken a company of philosophers, would only excite one's indignant con- tempt, if it were not that the poor idiots are entitled to compassion. The ridicule or the hatred of such characters is always to be considered as approbation and praise. To turn from iniquity, and to be account- ed mad, is the way to be regarded as rational and wise by the angels in heaven — those sages of eternity, who under- stand the nature and the province of in- tellect, and who rejoice over every sinner that repenteth. For those who, thus being led to repentance, become " wise unto salvation," and for those who are honoured to be the instruments of pro- moting this result — for both are reserved, by the mercy of God, some of the high- est honours which eternity can confer : — "They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and ever." In conclusion, I would urge upon those whom I have the privilege to address, the important lessons which the present sub- ject involves, and which they will readi- ly detect. If any of you have just left the parental roof, and have arrived here with the habits of a pious family still about you, let nothing shame you out of their continued cultivation ; if any (f you have begun to feel the pernicious influence of evil communications, break instantly with the criminal seducers ; if any (f you have proceeded far in the absurd career of scepticism or of vice, be persuaded to return, in spite of the insane ridicule you may receive from your companions ; if any of you are scouted as saints, and have to sustain indignity or contempt for your steady attachment to God and to truth, be not discouraged ; remember that on your side are the wise and the virtuous of all worlds — the excellent of earth, and the perfect in heaven ; if any of you are disposed to think lightly of the Holy Scriptures — to neglect the instructions of the Christian preacher, and to associate religion with weakness and fanaticism — recollect that the probability is that you are very ignorant of the subjects on which you are about to dare to dogmatize — that, by doing so, you will only betray to the intelligent your intellectual poverty, and, which will be more galling perhaps, ex- pose yourselves to the commiseration and pity of the pious. Let me beseech all of you to fortify your minds against the dangers of your position, by studying both the Christian evidences and the Christian record ; make it a point of con- science to attend regularly on the ordi- nances of Christian worship; and ever cultivate a reverential regard to that Being of whose wisdom and benevolence you witness so many proofs in the pro- gress of your studies ; forget not that He knows the wants of the mind, and has provided for those wants, just as he knows the wants of the body, and has provided for them ; — that, with this view, he has addressed to you the gospel of his Son, and commanded you to receive it, because he knows that you have need both of the pardon of sin, and the renova- tion of your nature ; by repentance and faith seek the enjoyment of these in- comparable blessings — blessings without which you may certainly be successful in the world, but can never be properly prepared for leaving it ; and leave it you must, whether prepared for the tiemen- TIIC xMADXESS AND FOLLY OF RELIGIOX. 321 dous transition or not. And now, one word in relation to a subject on which one word will be sufficient, and then I have done. I beseech you, then, by all the feelings you possess as sons and as brothers — by the recollections you retain of your father's house — by a mother's intense and irrepressible anxiety, and by a sister's pure and angelic affection — as you desire to be respected, and ought to desire to be worthy of respect — as you would wish to possess, in future years, internal serenity in looking back to the habits of the present period — in the name of God — by the reality of judgment, of heaven, and of hell — by all that is author- itative in truth, and all that is tender in friendship, I beseech you '■'■to jlee youth- ful lusts that war against the soul f^ — to study, in this respect, to maintain a con- science and a character void of offence ! — to erect yourselves above yourselves, and to exercise, by reason and religion, an abiding control over the appetites and passions ! — let the man govern the ani- mal, and let God govern the man ! Sup- plicate gracious aid to assist and to strengthen ; and, as humble and consist- ent disciples of his Son, aim at the at- tainment of elevated excellence, and seek for glory, honour, immortality, and eter- nal life ! REFLECTIONS AT TIBERIAS. The composure which came over my feverish spirits at this honr was inex- pressibly refreshing : I laid myself down upon the ground, and, resting my head upon a stone near me, dreAV a little cool- ness from the soil : while the simple train of reflections which naturally sprung up from the scene around me added much to my enjoyment. At a great distance to the north was the mountainous horizon, on the summit of which stands Safet, glistening with its noble castle : it is not improbably supposed that our Saviour had this spot in his eye, and directed the attention of his disciples to it, when he said, "A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid ;" for it is in full view from the Mount of Beatitudes, as well as from this place ; and, indeed, seems to command all the country round to a great extent. Vol. I.— 41 Tracing, at a glance, the margin of this simple lake, on the opposite or eastern side, the eye rests on the inhospitable country of the Gadarenes — inhospitable to this day. But that which awakens the tenderest emotions in viewing a scene like this, is the remembrance of ONE who, formerly, so often passed this way ; and never passed without leaving, by his words and actions, some memorial of his divine wisdom and love. Here, or in this neighbourhood, most of his mighty works were done : and in our daily reli- gious services we have read, with the most intense interest, those passages of the gospel which refer to these regions. However uncertain other traditional geo- graphical notices may be, here no doubt interrupts our enjoyment in tracing the Redeemer's footsteps. This, and no other, is the sea of Galilee — in its dimen- sions, as I should judge, resembling ex- actly the size of the isle of Malta, about twenty miles in length, twelve in breadth, and sixty in circumference. Here Jesus called the sons of Zebedee, from mend- ing their nets, to become " fishers of men." Here he preached to the multi- tudes crowding to the water's edge, himt- self putting off a little from the shore in Simon Peter's boat. But there is not now a single boat upon the lake to re- mind us of its former use. Yonder, on the right, must have been the very spot where, in the middle of their passage from this side toward Bethsaida and Capernaum, the disciples were affrighted at seeing Jesus upon the water — when he gently upbraided the sinking faith of Peter — when he said to the winds and waves, " Be still !" — and the SAveet sere- nity which now rests upon the surface is the very same stillness which then suc- ceeded. Here, finally, it was that Jesus appeared, the third time after his resur- rection, to his disciples, (John xxi.) and put that question to the zealous, back- slidden, but repentant Peter, " Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me]" — one question thrice repeated ; plainly denot- ing what the Saviour requires of all who profess to be his ; and followed up by that solemn charge, " Feed my lambs^ feed my sheep."-— /owe/^'s Res, in Syria. SERMON XXXV. GOD'S CARE FOR HIS PEOPLE. BY THE REV. A. E. FARRAR. 'He careth for you." — 1 Pet. v. 7. If ever opinion entertained by any human mind was fraught with more than ordinary absurdity and cruelty, it is that which, excluding the divine Being from the government of the world he has formed, represents it as abandoned to the sport of a blind and uncertain chance. For were it possible to conceive that infi- nite Wisdom knows not our affairs ; or that, supremely happy in himself, the God of unbounded love does not concern himself about them ; could it be credited, that of him who " fills all things," the world is empty, while we gazed upon " the fatherless void," we might exclaim as Paul did, under a supposition not more abhorrent to truth, " We are of all men most miserable." There is, however, another sentiment upon this subject, which, if more feasible, is not less scripturally incorrect. I allude to the theory which represents the Almighty as "full orb'd, in his whole round of rays complete," and only con- descending to afford mankind some general and undefined regards ; and his government as a mere mechanical agency, controlled by certain immutable laws, which admit not of one peculiar or bene- volent attention. Infidels and semi-infi- dels have attempted to derive support to such views from the consideration of man's comparative insignificancy. In the flowery numbers and classic styles of poetry, we have been taught " The universal cause Acts not by partial, but by general laws, He sees with equal eye, as Lord of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall ; Systems or atoms into nothing hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world." 332 This appears to us to contain an awful reflection upon God. We deny not, that a thinking man, contemplating the gran- deur of his Creator, maj', for a moment, be tempted to question the individuality of his attentions. Led by the discoveries of science, the imagination may travel from world to world, and system to sys- tem, amidst the still increasing magnifi- cence of the divine formations, until our earth becomes an indiscernible speck, and appear to bear no more proportion to the other productions of creative en- ergy, tlian a single leaf to the foliage of a widely extended forest. Amid the illimitable expansion around, we may feel ourselves dwindle into nothingness, and with somewhat of the hesitancy of unbelief, may ask, "What is man, that thou art mindful of himl" But, be it remembered, that little and great are dis- tinctions of finite minds, which will bear no correct application to the divine Being; and when we consider, that he " filleth all in all," that he is at the same moment every where, no object can be too minute for his attention ; and while he " hangs the earth over the empty space," and wheels planets in their orbits, he, with no less regard, superintends " the flutter- ings of the bee," and directs the smallest corpuscle of blood that flits through the veins of the smallest animalcule. I am not prepared to say the subject of a particular providence involves no difli- culties. One is, the apparent disorder that exists in many providential arrange- ments; but of this we are incompetent to judge, because we cannot embrace the whole circumference of the divine pro- ceeding. The mighty chain of his deal- « GOD'S CARE FOR HIS PEOPLE. 323 111^5 seems often intercepted and broken; but when we are enabled to trace up the concatenation of causes and events to their ultimate tendencies — to look along the line to its termination, every thing will demonstrate the perfection of a divine agency. At present, " we know" only " in part." The infinite combina- tions and workings of the admirable ma- chinery, which, to the eye of the artist, are simplicity itself, may seem to us mere complicated confusion ; but when, in the light of eternity, and with an eye strengthened by the vision of God, we look through the perplexing movements, every thing will appear honourable to the wisdom and benevolence of Him who, in adoring wonder, we shall perceive, "hath done all things well" — "Clouds and darkness are round about him ; but just- ice and judgment are the habitation of his throne." Every difficulty, however, with which this subject is perplexed, gives place to the authority of God ; and it is sufficient for us that the doctrine of a particular providence is pre-eminently that of the Scriptures. On this point, no words need be more explicit than those of the text — "He," that is God, " careth for you." They are adduced as a motive for " casting all our care upon him ;" and it is impossible to conceive a motive more obvious and persuasive. But I purpose to give them a distinct conside- ration as a truth of general practical im- portance. Let us inquire to whom they riftr ? Whether the truth they stute can he established? and what improvement should be made of the doctrine ? And, First, To WHOM DO THESE WORDS RE- FER ? Not to the inanimate, but rational creation — to man. There is, indeed, a sense in which God cares for all his creatures, animate and inanimate. He " maketh the outgoings of the morning and evening to rejoice." He covers the fields with abundance. He " crowns the year with his goodness." He beams forth in the spring, and ap- proaches us in the bounties of summer, and loads us with the profusion of autumn. During the stormy winter, the insignifi- cant sparrow chirping on the hedge, " falleth not to the ground without his notice." He "feedeth the young ra- vens;" he "careth for oxen." "The eyes of all wait upon him, and he giveth them their meat in due season." Incom- parably beautiful in this view is the lan- guage of our Lord to his disciples. " Take no thought what ye shall eat; consider the ravens; they have no barn nor storehouse; yourFather feedeth them. And why take ye thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies of the field ; they toil not, they spin not ; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. • Your Father clotheth'-them." But the arrange- ments of Providence, like the dispensa- tions of grace, concern more immediately man. Him God has made capable of know- ing and loving himself. In the visita- tions that meet him he can recognise his Father; and through the channel of bene- volent communication made to him, return to the source of all his blessings. And man needs the most effective expressions of divine attention. Immortals, standing on the brink of eternity, and yet ignorant of the events of the next hour ; capable of celestial enjoyments, but placed in cir- cumstances inimical to their attainment; surrounded with enemies, and incident to a thousand unseen calamities ; miserable indeed were your lot, my brethren, if left to struggle alone with your difficulties. I know we are unworthy of the divine attention. Though " he careth for you" some of you are thoughtlessly uncon- cerned about A????. Suppose not, however, that Providence waitelh upon your sins, continuing impenitent; every part of his word denounceth wrath against you, and your final doom must be inevitable and aggravated perdition. Yet Providence is co-operating with grace to save you. In what period hath God left himself " without witness, doing good, sending rain and fruitful seasons, and filling men's ■ hearts with food and gladness?" To what part of the world hath he not gone forth in expressions of beneficence and mercy ; shining in the splendour of the sun, instructing by the pale glory of the moon, and twinkling in the stars ? 324 THE BRITISH PULPIT. " Day unto day uttereth speech." In every thing, the Lord is looking after the interests of man. But the persons more immediately con- cerned in our subject, are described in a preceding part of the epistle, as " called out from darkness into marvellous light ;" "which in times past were not a people, but are now the people of God ; which had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained mercy." " Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorrupt- ible, by the word of God which liveth and abideth for ever." "Elect accord- ing to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctification of the Spirit." This is designatory phrase- ology, which needs no explanation. But if there be any circumstances in which the consolation of the subject may be peculiarly claimed, they are those of suffering. Of the persons primarily in- terested in the text, the apostle says, " If need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations ;" and intimates, that further and severer trials awaited them. " Think it not strange," &c. How soothing must it have proved to persons so situated, to read, " Casting all your care upon HIM, for HE careih for you." " His saints are lovely in his sight, He views his children with delight, He sees their hope, he knows their fear, He looks and loves his image there." Secondly. Our next inquiry is, Whe- ther THE TRUTH THESE WORDS STATE, CAN BE SUBSTANTIATED ■? And, happily, on a point of so much consequence, we are not left to mere con- jectures. Had we no express declaration on the subject, we might, indeed, safely rest it upon deduction ; and an inference, the most obvious, drawn from the most simple premises, would immediately offer itself; an inference from the divine in- terest in us. Shall not the Maker care for his works ? Does the potter form his vessel that it may be instantly dashed in pieces by the first rude hand that may touch it^ Does the artist employ his pains and skill in constructing a curious piece of machinery, and then abandon it to the sport of a blind or malevolent curi- osity ? But God has expended upon be- lievers wonders of wisdom and goodness : he has done more ; he has made them mira- cles of mercy ; and can he cease to feel interested in their welfare ] Similar, on this topic, was the reasoning of our adora- ble Redeemer — " Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings ] and not one of them faileth to the ground without your Father. Ye are of more value than many sparrows." This is not a subject involving the least uncertainty. It is revealed in the most explicit terms. We have but to turn over the pages of the holy writ, to per- ceive it shining in all the radiance of divine illumination. Let us examine a few passages. Here is one — " Fear not Abram ; I am thy shield, and thy exceed- ing great reward." Perhaps, you say, this concerned Abram only. But " they that are of faith are Abram's seed, and heirs according to the promise." Well ; here is another. "The Lord's portion is his people, Jacob is the lot of his inherit- ance. He found him in a desert land, and in the waste-howling wilderness ; he led him about; he instructed him; he kept him as the apple of his eye. As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fl uttereth ovei her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings, so the Lord alone did lead him." This, you say, refers to the Israelites ; recol- lect, however, that " the things which happened unto them were examples." We will turn to the book of Psalms — " The eyes of the Lord are over the right- eous, and his ears are open to their prayers." — " Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him ; for he knoweth whereof we are made, and remembereth that we are but dust." On this pleasing subject, the prophet Isaiah is equally evangelical as upon every other. " Fear thou not," says he, in the language of God ; " I am with thee. When thou passest through the water and through the fire, I will be with thee ; the flames shall not kindle upon thee, neither shall the floods drown thee. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compas- sion on the son of her womb 1 Yea, they GOD'S CARE FOR HIS PEOPLE. 329 may : yet will I not forget thee. I have graven thee on the palms of my hands ; thy walls are continually before me." I will make one quotation more. " Then," says Malachi (and they were bad times in which he prophesied,) "Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another, and the Lord hearkened and heard them ; and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith tlie Lord in that day when I make up my jewels ; and I will spare them as a man spareth his own son that serveth him." These are all passages from the Old Tes- tament ; in the New, this doctrine, like that of immortality, shines still more re- fulgently ; and it may be enough to state, that the sermons of our Lord, and the epistles of his apostles, are in perfect co- incidence with the language of our text, and most explicitly prove that God " careth for us." Is it asked, do the divine proceedings correspond with this language 1 We ap- peal to facts. The truth derives the most ample illustration and confirmation from experience. A few instances may suffice for selection. The first that presents itself is in the Old Testament. And here you anticipate me : it is the history of Joseph. The foolish predilection of Ja- cob had rendered Joseph obnoxious to his brethren's hatred ; when sent to the fields of Dothan, where they fed their flocks, to inquire after their welfare, the unnatural men seized the opportunity of revenging the preference of their father upon the innocent object of his affections ; and "Joseph was sold into Egypt." To conceal their crime from the aged patri- arch, they dyed Joseph's coat in the blood of a kid, and set forward towards the vale of Hebron, the family residence. I seem to see the venerable Jacob ascend the hill, look wistfully toward Dothan, and then, as if boding some ill, retire thoughtfully to his home. At length, the ten sons make their appearance ; he casts over them his inquiring eye, and has scarcely asked for Joseph, when they produce the blood-stained robe, and, with all the apathy of guilt, state, "Behold, this have we found ; know now whether it be thy son's coat or not?" " It is my son's coat," said he. " Joseph is with- out doubt rent in pieces ; some evil beast hath devoured him ; I will go down to the grave unto my son mourning." His tears were scarcely wiped, his wounds were notyet closed, when his sons return- ing from Egypt, where they had been to purchase corn for the support of their families during a famine, informed their father, that unless their younger brother, Benjamin, returned with them into Egypt, the governor would sell them no more corn. The prospect of this second loss was more than Jacob could well bear. " How was it that ye dealt so ill with me, as to tell the man ye had yet a bro- ther? Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and now ye will take Benjamin away. All these things are against me, and ye will bring down my gray hairs with sor- row to the grave !" Stop, Jacob ! -God " careth for thee." " Joseph is yet alive, and is governor of Egypt." And when a iew weeks after, Jacob had embraced the long-lost exile on the plains of Goshen, he heard the same from his own lips — " God hath sent me before you, to save your lives by a great deliver- ance." An instance may be selected from the New Testament; the case of Peter him- self. His enemies had put him in prison, and waited but the lapse of Pentecost to glut their malice in his blood ; but " prayer was made of the church without ceasing to God for him." And the very night before he was to have been brought out to the people, an angel of God, spe- cially appointed for the purpose, roused him from his sleep, snapped his fetters, and " delivered him from the will of Herod, and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews." I see him in the street, after the angel's departure looking this way and that, and asking "Is it not a dream? Am I awake?' At length, arrived at the house of hi friend, John Mark, just as the little society were rising from their knees, &c. their prayers were turned into praises, as they gazed upon him, supposing it to have been his anrrel, I hear him exhort- "2E 326 THE BRITISH PULPIT. ing, " Cast all your care upon him, for he careth for you." Let us refer to history. Were the his- ory of the church well written, (but no- thing is worse written,) it would be so many records of God's kindness. A few striking instances of it have been pre- served. One shall serve for quotation. In that period of Christian barbarism, render- ed infamous in a neighbouring country by the revocation of the edict of Nantz, when the blood of the saints was shed without measure — (since then God has given that nation blood to drink) — some of those persons employed in the diabolic work of persecuting to death, under the name of heretics, their unoftending neighbours, were sent in pursuit of the celebrated Du Moulin, a minister of eminence among the Protestants. They had long sought for him in vain, when at length they traced him to a house, and followed immediately his steps into it. Every corner of this house they searched, an oven excepted ; which he who can em- ploy on the designs of his mercy an insect as well as an angel, had rendered, by means of a despicable spider, the se- cure asylum of his servant. A web just thrown over its mouth prevented scrutiny, and thus Du Moulin was preserved ! God " cared for him." You say these instances are extraordi- nary. True ; what then may we not expect when his care can be evinced by ordinary means ] But why do I appeal to Scripture, and to history ? Are none of you instances of this care ? What say you ■? Methinks, if the decorum of this service admitted, one would rise and say, " The Lord is my shepherd — he maketh me to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters." Another would add, " He hath led me by a way that I knew not ; he hath made crooked things straight, and rough places plain before me." And a third would state, referring to some particular deliver- ance, " Li that day the light was neither clear nor dark, but it was a day known to the Lord, not day nor night ; but it came to pass, that at evening time it was light." " He careth for you." ■■' ■ We may carry the subjecJ(i5St||,her, and though the point has been established generally, enter a little more at large into particulars. His care extends to Your ■property. This may, indeed, be but little, and for the reason I am assign- ing, because God " careth for you ;" for " the cattle upon a thousand hills are his," and so are " the wool and the flax, the silver and the gold," and he has promised to " withhold no good thing from them that walk uprightly." But little as it may be, without him flames shall not consume it, thieves shall not steal it, nor bankruptcies waste it. In proof of all this, I need only refer to the well known history in the first chapter of the book of Job. " There was a day," says the his- torian, "when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them. And the Lord said unto Satan, Whence comest thou ] Then Satan answered the Lord, and said. From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it. And the Lord said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job?" He needed not information, but he would have the avowal from Satan's own lips. "Then Satan answered the Lord, and said. Doth Job serve God for nought? Hast thou not set a hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on every side ?" Observe these words, " a hedge'''' — impenetrable even by the devil ; and before Satan could touch one of Job's camels, or even a single ewe lamb, God must make a breach in this hedge ! And is he not a hedge round his people now? He is ^^ a wall of fire round about them, and the glory in the midst of them." " He careth for" Your families. Is it necessary to prove this? I appeal to the ark, where a shameless Ham is floating among the wrecks of the deluged world, preserved for the father's sake. I refer to the his- tory of Lot. " Hast thou here," said the angel who was about to inflict righteous judgment upon Sodom, " Hast thou here any besides, sons in law or daughters ? Get them out of this place ; for I can do nothing till ye be come yonder." I refer ; but there is no need to multiply evidence. " The mercy of the Lord is GOD'S CARE FOR HIS PEOPLE. 327 upon tliem that fear him from one gene- ration to another." To trace descent from a religious ancestry is a greater honour, a greater happiness than to be able to look up through a long genealogical line of nobles and heroes, to loins enthroned. Children of religious parents ! why are you spared and blessed 1 Why are not some of you in hell ] You had praying, holy, exemplary parents, and God "cared for" them ; and as he loved the tree, he has extended mercy towards the branches. And though those branches have been long barren, when justice has threatened their excision, he has interposed, and said, "Destroy it not; a blessing is in it; for my servant's sake, I will not destroy them all." Dare you repeat the question. Why is the fruitless branch spared 1 A father's prayers, a mother's tears are in it. Parents ! you have perhaps wept, prayed, and waited, until you at length despond. After most consistently dis- charging your duty, you appear to have laboured in vain. But "though your house be not so with God, yet hath he made with you an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure." What, if the principles you early implanted be effaced, and your children having plunged head- long into crime, seem callous to reproof; is tlieir case therefore, hopeless ? Be- hold Manasseh, immured in prison in Babylon, the iron entering into his soul ! He is reflecting on the sins of his life, and the " guide of his youth ;" he prays, " O God of my father !" and the Lord is entreated of him. He " careth for" your bodies. " The very hairs of your head are all numbered." Pain may invade, sickness waste the pale frame, but "in all your afflictions he is afflicted." If the sun of your prosperity be darkened by the thickening tempest, and during the storm your friends desert you ; here is " a friend born for adver- sity ;" a friend that " sticketh closer than a brother ;" a friend whose language to you is, " I will never leave thee, I will never forsake thee." But, " dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." And what is so humbling as a dying scene ] There the strength is prostrated, and the flesh wasted ; the bones " stare upon you ;" the eyes are sunken in their sockets ; the faded visage is hectic and wan. The children, the wife stand around weeping; but I open the Bible, and read, " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the deafh of his saints." Here the care of the most tender friend becomes unavailing. Even Abraham is heard to say, " Give me a place that I may bury my dead out of my sight." But God " careth" even for their dust. We may cherish an affectionate remembrance ; the little tokens of their esteem we may fondly review ; the books they scanned we may read with fresh interest ; we may even go to the grave, and weep there, "Whilst busy meddling memory, In barbarous succession, musters up The past endearments of our softer hours, Tenacious of its theme." But they " are dead ; we shall go to them — they shall not return to us." They are dead ; " we cannot bring them back." IVe cannot; but God can, and he will do it ; for " he that raised up .Jesus from the dead, shall raise us up also by Jesus ;" and not a particle necessary to our identity shall be forgotten or lost. Our souls are his chief care ; and no- thing so much requires it. Its high des- tination stamps the soul with incalculable worth ; and its moral condition designates it an object of pity. A few years only have elapsed since our souls were lit into being ; but they are destined to burn on for ever ; and through eternity blaze among cherubim and seraphim, or darkly twinkle amid the gloom of infernal night. " The sun is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky ; The soul, immortal as its sire, Shall never die." But every human soul is darkened by ignorance, polluted by sin, and enslaved by Satan ; " shapen in iniquity." " And wilt thou turn thine eyes to look upon such a one ?" Brethren, he has done it. Already have you felt "the bright shin- ing of his countenance" upon you. He will do it. All his other care is subser- vient to this. Cares he for your property, for your bodies, for your families ? Their connexion with your soul raises them to 328 THE BRITISH PULPIT. that pre-eminence. Want you more evi- dence ■? Behold the price at which he has redeemed your souls; " not corrupt- ible things, but the precious blood of Christ." Recollect the pains he has taken to make them his own. Advert to the precious promises on which he has caused them to ground their trust. Look forward to that " exceeding and eternal weight of glory" which he has prepared for their enjoyment; and then read the text, " he carethfor you.^^ Yes ! he will purify them fully to himself, and pre- serve them from falling. He will " keep that wliich we have committed to him," and, finally, "present us faultless before the throne of his glory." And, Thirdly, What is the improvement THAT SHOULD BE MADE OF THIS DOCTRINE ? I cannot enter into this inquiry at any length. It is highly important that we ascertain whether or not we are interested in this doc- trine. We have said, many are careless about God ; we have restricted the text to those who have attached themselves to his interests ; who " know God, or rather are known of God." And should not your first improvement of this sub- ject be a serious inquiry into the concern you have in if? Are you illuminated? Born again 1 Have you "obtained mer- cy ■?" Are you sanctified by the Spirit through belief of the truth *? To such who can satisfactorily reply to such ques- tions, I would say, " Hail ! ye highly favoured of the Lord." "He carethfor you," who is infinitely wise, knowing the end from the beginning, and what, among all possibilities of occurrence, is best for you: who is infinitely ^oMJer/u/,- doing " according to his own will among the armies of heaven, and the inhabitants of earth ;" making " the wrath of man to praise him, and restraining the remain- der," and who, therefore, cannot be thwarted in his attempts to serve you ; who has already manifested his beneficence in a thousand actsof kindness, and embol- dens the expectation of future mercy, by the recollection of past. Your circum- stances may be afflictive ; your comforts may have been shed around you like the leaves by the winter's frost ; one trouble may succeed another, as wave impels wave. In the misconduct of relatives, in personal sufferings, in secular embar- rassments, you have continual cause of solicitude. You sometimes look trem- blingly along the vale of death ; but amid all, bear this upon your mind, " He CARETH FOR YOU." — " Happy are the peo- ple that are in such a case ; yea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord." This doctrine has a moral hearing, and we may deduce from it our duly. I sel- dom think of the text, without associat- ing it in my mind with a passage in the Old Testament, and which forms part of a history which is soon told. The pro- phet Elisha, in his itinerating labours, visited Shunem. Here he was heard by " a great woman," whose heart became penetrated with the truth ; and nothing could more naturally follow, than the de- sire to entertain the honoured messenger of salvation. In concurrence with her hus- band, she immediately prepared a little chamber for the prophet's accommodation. One day, when he visited there, he said to his servant, " Go call the Shunemite," who presenting herself at the prophet's door, he addressed — " Seeing thou hast cared for us with all this care, what shall be done for thee V She had looked for no remuneration, nor would she accept any. I admire this ; but I also admire the prophet's gratitude — " Seeing thou hast cared for us with all this care, what shall be done for thee *?" Who is not applying, in this language, to God ? Come, my brethren, shall I humbly, in your name, propose the question, " See- ing thou hast cared for us with all this care, xvhat shall be done fur thee ?" He replies, " My son, give me thine heart.''^ You say he has it. What, every corner of it ■? Let us put the question again — " Seeing thou hast cared for us with all this care, what shall be done for thee V He answers from the excellent glory, " Cast all your care upon me" — " Cast thy burden upon the Lord ; he will sustain thee." Ask you again, what shall be done ■? He has " left us an example that we should do as he has done." He hath " cared for you" — cared for your fellow creatures ; he has cared for your bodies^ GOD'S CARE FOR HIS PEOPLE. 329 and " the poor ye have always with you, and when ye will, ye may do them good." Here is the orphan, " For whom no mother's bosom Throbs to soft sympathy, and fond alarm." And yonder, * The wretched widow forc'd in age, for bread. To strip the brooli wiili mantling cresses spread ; To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn. Then seek some nightly shed, and weep till morn," " Make to yourselves friends of the mam- mon of unrighteousness." And " when the Son of man shall sit on the throne of his glory, the King shall say unto you. Inasmuch as ye did it to the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me." He has cared for your souls, and by the character of that care, presented this as the noblest, best charity. Away with your sickly sentimentality, your " phi- lanthropy born in a dream, bred in a novel, and living only in profession." Brethren, souls are perishing, and we must endeavour to save them. We have " freely received," we must " freely give." We must sigh and weep, but we must also pray and act. The gospel must be preached, and we must aid its promul- gation. We must "join hands with God" to make a miserable world live. And, let it be known, that " he which convert- eth a sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins." Before we part, may I speak a word to you who are not fully interested in this subject ? How great your loss ! how dan- gerous your condition ! But there is yet hope. God has watched over your in- fancy, and brought you to manhood. He has raised you out of afflictions, and daily supplies your wants : and shall not " his goodness lead you to repentance ?" " As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth." He has done more than swear it. " God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have everlasting life." O that this love might constrain Vol. I.— 42 you to drop your opposition, and apply to him for mercy ! And why not now ? For now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation] Trifle, and you are undone But I must conclude May God add his blessing ! THE MATTER, MANNER, AND SPIRIT OF A SERMON. Let the matter be weighty and grave, the method plain and clear, the expres- sion neither soaring on the one hand, nor too familiar on the other. Some men are not aware what contempt they draw on religion by their coarse and homely allu- sions, and the silly and trivial proverbs they make use of. Nor should our expressions be too soft or effeminate, nor our pronunciation affected or childish. Religion is a rational and manly thing ; and we should strive to recommend it with the greatest advantage. But, above all, let us study a zeal and fervour, as, flowing from the deep sense of the thing we speak, and being regulated with pru- dence and decency, may be fittest to reach the hearts of the hearers. "The vulgar, that commonly sit under the pulpit, (as the excellent Herbert speaks,) are gene- rally as hard and dead as the seats they sit on, and need a mountain of fire to kin- dle them." The best way is, to preach the things first to ourselves, and then fre- quently to recollect in whose presence we are, and whose business we are doing. — ScougaL ASCRIBE ALL SUCCESS TO GOD. Though we had the tongues of angels ; though we had strength of intellect to grapple the most sublime and mysterious topics ; though on the wings of medita- tion we could spring from the boundaries of this world, and hold converse with the skies ; though with the most command- ing eloquence, we could roll like the thunder, or be soft and sweet as the music of the spheres ; still we must dis- claim all praise ; — still we must say, " Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory." — Parsons. 2e 2 SERMON XXXVI MINISTERS, AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST. PREACHED AT ST. BRIDe's CHURCH, LONDON, FOR THE CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY. BY THE REV. H. BUDD, M.A. "Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you tn Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." — 2 Cor. v. 20. Six thousand years of anguish and of groans are rapidly rolling away, and every Missionary Anniversary becomes more interesting. The world is rising from a state of torpid neutrality as to the effect of Missions. The Bible is produc- ing a decided and universal impression. The three great divisions of the Christian church, the Greek, the Latin, and the Pro- testant; the Jews, yet beloved for the Father's sake ; the Mohammedans, Otto- man, and Persian ; and the immense po- pulation of the pagan world ; — all these fields of spiritual culture prove that the share has not been applied in vain. The produce, indeed, has not been in all cases alike encouraging; but all demands a de- cided advance, and a fearless and perse- vering application of the remedy which God has so eminently placed at your disposal, for the restoration of a lost world. But " is not the Lord gone out before us ]" What, then, has the minis- ter to do but to stimulate your energies to corresponding exertions ; and to urge you by a more ardent faith, and a more active charity, to the application of the great remedy God has provided for the healing of the nations 1 May He by his Spirit reveal its power to us I May we have a revelation of "the righteousness of God from faith to faith !" May it be a word of life to our own souls, and to those who dwell in the remotest regions of the earth ! In the text are contained, 330 L The Christian minister's designa- tion. H. The dignity of his character. HL The subject of his embassy. IV. The application of the subject to our present purpose. And now, " Be thou exalted, O Lord, in thy strength ! so will we sing and praise thy power." Here is First, The Christian minister's de- signation. He is an ambassador of mercy ; " we are ambassadors for Christ." An ambas- sador is the representative of his prince, sent to negotiate his affairs. He has chiefly to consider two things. I. The Christian minister has to con- sider the character cf those to whom he is sent. He is not sent to kings or princes ; to the noble and rich, the refined or pru- dent ; neither is he sent to the poor, the labourer, or the slave. He is sent to them all, as the general subjects of his charge ; but he says with Paul, " We know no man after the flesh." It is the soul, the immortal soul, that is the sub- ject of his charge; and whether it be found in the palace or the mansion, the streets or the highways, the night cellar or the peasant's cot, all need to be alike told — You have a soul to be saved I Neither is he sent to men as exhibiting the nicer distinctions of character. One man is civilized, another is learned ; one is respectable, another is less so ; one is MINISTERS. AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST. 331 amiable, another is repulsive: these may all be alike destitute of Clirist. If the man be decidedly " in Christ," he is " a new creature ;" and now his distinction is, " Old things are passed away ; behold, all things are become new !" Nor yet is he sent to men as exhibiting the broader distinctions of character : whether civil- ized or savage, learned or illiterate, in this state of society or the other, in this climate or the other; not to the elder son, proud in comparative innocence ; or the younger son, lost in profligacy and misery: the natural disposition of both is alike enmity to God ; there is no inhe- rent spirituality in either. " All things" that tend to spiritual life "are of God," who by a method of his own, suited to every variety of human character, " hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ." If, then, he be sent to no particular condition of men, to no peculiar distinc- tions of character ; under what character is he to address mankind ] simply as sin- ners. This is the universal character of man. " God hath concluded," shut up together, " all under sin." " All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." All are rebels, guilty of foul revolt, found in open warfare against their God. " There is none that doeth good ; no, not one." Neither natural, nor moral, nor artificial distinctions make any difTerence here : man, everywhere, at all times, under all circumstances, is found a sinner against God. You may collect specimens of earth from different countries; you may decompose them; but though they may differ in certain properties, they all agree in one, — they are material and perishing. In an army ef rebels there may be every variety of character, but they are all rebels. Find man where you will ; shape him as you may, by the line and plummet of civiliza- tion ; yet no perfection of art, or attain- ment of science, can make him less than a sinner — a rebel against his God ! It is to sinful man, then, " dead in trespasses," corrupt and impotent; to man, -'without God in the world ;" to man, the Atheist; that this ambassador is sent ; and if he address man in any character short of this, he fails of his purpose, and makes his embassy vain. He has mistaken the disease, and what wonder if the remedy fail 1 He is ignorant of the character he is sent to benefit, and what wonder if his embassy be unavailing 1 Here, then, is the firm foundation of all useful efforts on the part of the gospel minister; a deep conviction that man is a sinner against God. History, experience, the word of God, the character of Christ, and the feel- ing of the plague of his own heart, all go to prove to him that he is a perishing sin- ner, and that he is sent to perishing sin- ners with this embassy — " Be ye recon- ciled to God!" It is evident, then, that such a minister cannot be the ambassador of the law. The law demands strength, and the sin- ner is weak ; the law demands unceasing obedience, but the sinner disobeys in all ; the law never did, nor can, make the im- perfect perfect. In paradise, it proved that man could not stand in his own strength ; and it was not given on Sinai because man was holy, but to restrain unholiness : its numerous precepts multi- plied sin and aggravated the offence. " By the law is the knowledge of sin," for " sin is the transgression of the law." Apply the rule of the law to a rebel in arms, and it is the exhibition of his of- fence, and the occasion of its repetition ; or if he be conscious of the majesty of the authority he has violated, and the perfec- tion of the law he has broken, this con- sciousness, without any idea of mercy, will only plunge him into despair, and terrify him with the justice of his punish- ment. Let the law act as a pioneer to prepare the way ; but let the minister re- member that he is not the ambassador of the law, but of Christ ; to restore the love of the law, and to make its service " per- fect freedom." He is not the magistrate, with his politic rule ; he is not the states- man, with cabinet devices ; he is not the legislator, with his civil code ; he is not the prudent man, with his subtle schemes ; he is not the orator, with his powers of suasion ; he is not the poet, with sublime imagination ; he is not the man of feeling, with his tenderness and melting sympa- thy; he is not Moses himself, fresh from communion with God, his countenance 332 THE BRITISH PULPIT. shining, and the tables yet warm with the finger of GJod : not one of these, not all of these combined in one, will suit the cha- racter to whom he is sent. It is to man, the SINNER, that he is sent ; not the partial, but the total sinner — not the impoverished, but the ruined — not to man hurt by sin, but to man dead in sin — not man to be mended, but new made — not to be recti- fied, but to be created. A principle not known to the world must be applied ; a message never thought of by man must be brought — a message suited to him as a miserable sinner — a message of mercy from his offended God, which can cleanse the guilt of sin from his conscience, and subdue the power of sin in his heart. " Behold," then, in the sublime lan- guage of Isaiah, " behold !" not a prince, a statesman, a legislator, the wise, the moralist, the orator, the poet, the man of feeling — no, not Moses himself, but the Saviour adapted to the sinner — "my ser- vant"— my Son, made flesh, " whom I uphold" in his character of Mediator — "mine elect, in whom my soul deJight- eth" — my chosen Redeemer, in whom my soul looks on man with complacency. " I have put my Spirit upon him" — the power to restore the souls of men to my image. "He shall bring forth judgment" — righteousness, " to the Gentiles." I have just suited his character to their wants. His meekness shall condescend to their frowardness, and cause him to adapt himself to their greatest weakness. " A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench ;" the perfection of man shall be in him. " He shall bring forth judgment unto truth ;" a righteousness which supplies every defect shall be in him. And as his meekness suits the infirmities of men, his perseverance suits their unwillingness, their contempt, and rejection of him. " He shall not fail, or be discouraged," but go on till men are fully justified ; and " the isles," the heathen, " shall wait for his law" — a law of pity and of grace. It is a Saviour man wants ; not a legislator, or philosopher, but " the Prince nf Peace. ''^ It is mercy meeting correlative misery ; pardon pronouncing peace. God meets man as a miserable sinner, and meets him with an unmeasured proclamation of mercy — "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." Let the worst sinner but accept this, and he has at once a new nature. " Thy sins are forgiven thee ; thy faith hath saved thee ; go in peace." Let this message be effectually delivered to the soul by the Holy Spirit, and the work is done. The soul is in- clined to its own best interests, and to those of man ; and it has power for the due exercise of all its obligations. This is the Christian minister's designation: he is an ambassador of mercy — he is a herald of grace. " We are ambassadors for Christ.'''' This is just the character that our church expects in us, who are her ministers. When she sends us forth, her words are these ; " Consider with yourselves the end of your ministry to- wards the children of God, the spouse and body of Christ." It is not philosophy, or morality, or refinement, that she ex- pects of us as the result of our ministra- tions, but that the people should be brought to " ripeness and perfectness in Christ." And do our attainments equal her requisitions 1 The habits of life, our own hearts, the bias of education, the very moral atmosphere by which we are surrounded, are all against us. All these claim to be substitutes for Christ; they are the false Christs, which exclude the genuine Christ from our own hearts and those of the people. And shall we retire from such a world as hermits ! or rather, shall we not retire, with Paul, into Christ, and seek to be found only in him ] As surely as we, who are the clergy, are filled with the Spirit of Christ, so surely shall we be efficient ambassadors and faithful missionaries. Let us be but mis- sionaries for Christ at home, and missiona- ries for Christ abroad will not long be wanting. And never let the missionary abroad forget his designation. He is an " am- bassador for Christ." Here is his au- thority, his comfort, his support, his security, his reward. And as his title is an " ambassador for Christ," so let his voice be, " I will go in the strength of the Lord ; I will make mention of thy right- eousness, even of thine only." Consider MINISTERS, AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST. 333 Secondly, The dignitv of his charac- ter. His voice is that of his Master — his entreaty is that of his Saviour. " As though God did beseech you by us, we pray you in Chrisfs slcnd.^^ The dignity of his otfice is such, that we cannot mag- nify it beyond due bonds. His subjects are not those of nature or of providence : these are the business of men who are occupied in the affairs of time and sense. True, he is in the flesh, but he must live " by the faith of the Son of God." His affairs are spiritual, and connected with eternity. His voice may be feeble, but it is as the voice of God — the voice of God in its most winning form ; for it is the voice of God incarnate — of Christ himself — of Christ still incarnate in the person of his minister — as Christ still in the flesh, inviting men to be reconciled to God. And the feeblest minister who is faithful to his charge, is entitled to say, "As though God did beseech you by us, we pray you in Chrisfs stead.'''' How, then, is it possible to magnify our office too highly ] We are commis- sioned by God and by Christ. " Let a man so account of us, as of the ministers of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God ;" as instruments of spirituality ; as " workers together with God." Who are the four beasts, or living creatures, before the mystical throne of Christ, but the ministers of the church, by whose vigilance, activity, and piety, the church's interests are to be promoted 1 Are they not stars in his right hand ? are they not the jewels of his crown ? for " the mes- sengers of the churches" are " the glory of Christ." But the minister is elevated as the man is depressed ; as the man sinks, the mi- nister rises. His excellency is seen as he is viewed distinct from talents and acquirements. The most distinguished minister on record was the most jealous of human attractions. " And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with ex- cellency of speech or of wisdom, declar- ing unto you the testimony of God : for I determined not to know any thino- amontr you, but .Jesus Christ, and him crucified. And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom but in the demonstration of the Spirit;" and why ? " that your faith should nol stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God." Brethren, where is thp fastidiousness, and refinement, and ex- quisiteness of our modern pulpit hereT He debases the man, that he may raise the minister ; he exalts Christ on the de- pression of self; he elevates the Spirit upon the ruins of the flesh. Oh, the meanness of man, that would borrow a spark from nature, to light up the horizon of grace! Oh, where is the man who can take the crown from his own head — the crown of reputation, of talent, of power, of excellence — and lay it at the feet of Christ, and say, "O Jesus! thou alone art worthy V O may Christ be elevated this day, and self destroyed ! and may this prayer proceed from every heart — " Be thou exalted, O Lord, in thine own strength !" Let the man be thus merged in the mi- nister, -and he rises to the highest dignity of his office. For " we preach not our- selves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants, for Jesus' sake." The highest dignity of the minister of Christ is to be the servant of all : then he adapts himself to the case of all whom he beseeches in Christ's stead. The dun- geon of the malefactor — the weakness of childhood — the fatuity of age — the obsti- nacy of ignorance — the repulse of savage ferocity — the opposition of malignant bar- barism— and the cutting sneer of the no- minal professor — he is prepared to meet and to conciliate. He becomes " all things to all men ;" he beseeches, he so- licits, he prays. His aim is to save the immortal soul ; for this he cannot suffer too much, or stoop too low. The deepest humiliation of the Saviour was when he endured the death of the cross; and this was also his highest, his richest exalta- tion. The minister resembles his Lord, and his richest dignity is humility. " If any will be great among you, let him be your minister." " And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them." There is the minister of Christ ! the feeling of a child is his proper feeling. If such be the designation, and such the dignity of 334 THE BRITISH PULPIT. the minister of Christ, we are prepared to consider, Thirdly, The subject of his embassy. This is, the reconciliation of a sinner to God : — " Be ye reconciled to God." His subject is suited to the state of men : " Repent ye, and believe the gospel." You are a sinner, but God is reconciled to you. Ours is a message of mercy ; we do not ask you to reconcile God to you, either by your repentance or your faith, else Ave should drive you to despair. He has prepared all this for j^ou, and we invite you to ask for it. We do not ask you to reconcile him to you : that he has done already, by a way in which he is at once "just, and the justifier of him that be- lieveth in Jesus." All we ask is this : receive the boon — "be ye reconciled to God" — believe, and live. The guilty sinner will reply, " But what must I do to be saved ? My sins are numerous ! How deep is their dye ! how long have they been persisted in ! What satisfaction must I make 1 " What good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life V To these efforts, which contain an opposition in terms, God in mercy says, " Come now, and let us rea- son together." And this reasoning shall consist of one argument only, which shall meet all you can urge in opposition — a free pardon : a pardon for all your sins, however many, great, or long persisted in. " Though your sins be as scarlet," plain and glaring as scarlet under the noontide sun, "they shall be white as snow; though they he red like crimson," of a deep and blood-red dye, habitual and inveterate, " they shall be as wool." Boundless mercy ! unfathomable grace ! inconceivable love ! Free pardon, and complete reconciliation ! This, then, is our message — " Be ye reconciled to God." All things are ready, and wait your ac- ceptance. Be ye reconciled to God the Father, Son, and Spirit. 1. Emhrace the love of the Father. Re- conciliation originates here. All are sin- ners ; and it signally illustrates the rich- ness of his mercy, that he loved us " when we were dead in sins." There is some- thing plausible, something that we can comprehend, in a man dying for his friend ; this we can conceive of as pos' sible. "But God commendeth his love to us, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." While we were j'et rebels, with the weapons in our hands, God said, even at such a m^oment, " It is peace." But mark the mode in which this love is displayed ! — a mode which shows the strictest regard to justice, in connexion with love the most attractive. A Mediator is appointed ; a Mediator who has the rich expression of all the perfec- tions of the Godhead. rYostract excel- lence and perfection, essential wisdom, power, holiness, infinity, no creature can conceive of. But in the second person in the Godhead, we have a revelation of the perfections of Godhead, which we can comprehend sufficiently for his glory and our own good. Christ is " the word," who expresses the Divine mind — the Son, who represents the Father — the Image which portrays his resemblance — the impression of his excellence, the bright- ness of his glory. Here, then, we see him as disposable grace. The Father contemplates man in him ; in him he chooses man before time ; and in him, in lime, he orders his election, conversion, justification, sanctification ; and at length, by glory, crowning this tissue of grace. Thus " God was iri Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them. For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteous- ness of God in him." Here is the " great mystery of godliness ; God was manifest in the flesh !" Embrace, then, the love of the Father! 2. Embrace the grace of the Son. 1st. The grace of his person. In no other way can the sinner of himself approach God. The sword of flame turns every way to keep him back from the tree of life, and the blaze of Sinai fills him with terror. Man cannot approach to God ; God there- fore approaches to man in his Son. Jesus comes, and in his person unites the hu- man and divine nature : he dwells at Na- zareth, and has "a local habitation and a name." He lives, acts, thinks, as we do, yet without sin : he faints, weeps, ago- nizes, groans, dies I And is this the MINISTERS, AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST. 335 Infinite? It is he, my Saviour and my God! 2d. Embrace the grace of his work. United to his person by faith, you are also united to his work. Faith identifies you with Christ, from the stable at Bethlehem, up to his throne on high. You are quickened in him — suffer in him — are crucified with him — die in him — rise in him, and ascend together " in hea- venly places in Christ." 3d. Embrace the Son in his ofiices. All grace is in him for the supply of all your wants. Do your souls droop under a sense of sin ] Go and spread it before him who is at once the victim of the priest on the cross of Calvary. Are you weak and languid in prayer before God 1 Go to him who is your glorious intercessor. Do you want wisdom and knowledge ? In Christ are " hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge ;" and he will teach you. It is the book of grace which reveals the meaning of the books of nature, of providence, of glory. Do you want re- pentance, the conquest of lust, power over every temptation ■? Christ is " a Prince and a Saviour," exalted for this purpose. His sceptre can sway every sin, and beat down every enemy under your feet. To live by faith on the oflEices of Christ, is tlie richest experience — to live by faith by Christ and on Christ, is to receive "out of his fulness grace for grace." 3. Embrace f he fellowship of the Spirit. The wSpirit dispenses the grace of the Son. " He shall glorify me," says Christ ; " for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you : all things that the Father hath are mine." The excellencies of the Father are deposited in Christ, to be be- stowed by the Spirit. The Father is the source of grace — the Son is the depository of grace — the Spirit is the actuary of grace. It is his to enlighten, to quicken, to restore, to exalt, to comfort, to purify, to uphold, and to seal you with the earn- est of heavenly glory. " Be ye reconciled, then, to God." What a reconciliation is here! How simple, full, free, and complete I In Christ, Jehovah is yours — yours in all his fulness, and in all his power to salva- tion ! To know this, is the very life and joy of the soul. You have " received the reconciliation," and you can say, "My beloved is mine, and I am his." I close here by gathering up all in one expression — " The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with us all ,- and with every soul in the remotest corner of the world, now and for evermore ! Amen.''^ If such is the Christian minister's de- signation, dignity, and work — if his aim be to make known the blessings of the gospel of reconciliation ; it seems obvioua to ask, since there is so much " balm in Gilead," and so able a " physician there, why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered ?" Why, in this nineteenth century of Christianity, why has the gospel of reconciliation produced such feeble, such contracted effects 1 We need not go far to solve this question. The world is not reconciled to its God, because so little of this reconciliation is fell in Christendom itself; and so little is felt, it is to be feared, not because it has not been received, but because it has not been preached ! The history of the church abounds with unchristian errors ; and where we find the gospel of reconciliation preached, it is rather mentioned as an ex- ception to the surrounding error. But where is the gospel 1 Is it at the great marts of commerce and population % I3 it at Rome — at Constantinople — at Alex- andria 1 Doubtless, each had its Clement — its Chrysostom — its Athanasius ; but the candlesticks are removed, and the gospel is not preached. And if the ques- tion be asked, why is Christendom sunk into Socinian and Infidel corruption ? I can only answer, because the gospel of re- conciliaiion is not preached ! But let us ask also, does the gospel of reconciliation produce what it ought in England? Does the sauvity of this gos- pel prevail in our manners, or the severity of the law 1 Is there the kindness, the meekness, the conciliation, the reconcil- ing spirit, the holy courtesy, of a people in whom self is dethroned, and Christ ia exalted T is there the forbearance, and ten- derness, and clemency, of a people recon- ciled to God, and saved by mercy 1 or is there not rather the excessive claim and rigorous exaction of duty, which speaks 336 THE BRITISH PULPIT. the severity of the law? Are our chil- dren trained, not as the children of pro- mise, but of nature] At the baptismal font, are not children required to fulfil promises made for them, without the ap- plication of the promises made io them ] Is education th^ demand of duty, or the encouragement of privilege 1 Are we aiming to make men better by clemency ? or is it not rather by the application of law and punishment] Are the acts of our legislature mild and clement, or aw- ful and terrific % Are the resolutions of our Cabinets mere temporary expedients, or wise and liberal treatments \ — are they not rather suited to punish for offence, than to allure to obedience ? If, then, this be the complexion of things among t/s, in this nineteenth century of a perfect gospel, it is the most important question we can ask to ourselves — to the world — to the glory of God — to the empire of Christ — to the honour of the Spirit — to the success of the Missionary cause — what is the reason that society in Eng- land has not made a greater practical ad- vance in gospel reconciliation 1 Shall I answer this question? I will do it by asking another; — Is the pulpit of the Church of England a pulpit of the law or the gospel, of reconciliation or of terror 1 Which is its character 1 " O Lord, revive thy work in the midst of the years — in the midst of the years make known ; in wrath remember mercy !" We have arrived at. Lastly, The application of the sub- ject TO OUR PRESENT PURPOSE. " Now then." Will my reverend bre- thren in the mirtistry allow me, first, to address them T Christ has suflfered, and has entered into his glory. He has been lifted up on the cross; he is lifted up to glory ; and he now waits to be lifted up in every heart. For this purpose he has appointed us his ambassadors, and re- quires us to lift up his person, his work, his offices, as the one unceasing sub- ject of our ministry. We are to be Mis- sionaries to those around us, on the vast important concerns of their souls. We are to address all ranks, from the king to the peasant, and all characters, whether moral or profane, and to say to them all. " Be ye reconciled to God." The high est is not above our care ; the lowest ia not below it. It is not enough that they are moral, that they attend our ministry : it is not enough that being solicited and warned, they decline and reject: we act for souls, and for eternity. It is not for us to be angry, to be baffled, to retire dis- gusted, fainting, despairing : we want a mind like Christ — a benevolent boldness — a spirit undaunted, that will go on hearing of no refusal, and not resting till they are saved. We want to be filled with Christ : to have Christ in our studies, in our pulpits, in our hearts, in our whole intercourse ; in short, we want the mis- sionary zeal, that we may accomplish the missiomry purpose. England stands in need of missionaries herself at this very hour, as well as any part of the heathen world. And it has been long my firm conviction, that it is in vain to expect an efficient supply of Missionaries for foreign service, till we who are ministers of the church become Missionaries at home. As ministers of the Church of England, we stand on no common ground. The world may refuse the decisions of our Cabinets, but she asks the communication of our grace. She requests — what] "Christ crucified,'''' As we feel Christ — preach Christ — live by Christ — and recommend Christ, so are we a benefit to the whole race of mankind. Yes ; the ministers of England stand on high ground ! They are, at this very hour, the ministers of i/ie tcorld. Do I need an apology, my reve- rend friends ] If so, I find it in my text. I am an " ambassador for Christ ;" and beseech you " in Christ's stead." 2. I would address myself to my Mis- sionary brethren. I am not disposed to consider your work as different from our own. You leave, as Abraham did, your home, and go out, not knowing whither you go. Herein we differ ; but, in ad- dressing a Christless world, we differ but little. Gross superstition — false deities — senseless idolatry — ignorant sensuality — savage brutality — you may have to en- counter: but we have the lust of the eye — false refinements — idolatrous devotion to what is wrong — and over-civilization — to encounter at home. If you have ministp:rs, ambassadors for ciirist. 337 barbarous idolaters to address, we have the devotees of a more dangerous idolatry. Self and Christ are every where opposed. If Satan reigns by means of an ignorant idolatry, he reigns also by means of a corrupted refinement. An " ambassador for Christ" is alike needed : the qualifica- tion is the same both for ministers at home, and for missionaries abroad ; — they must " put on the Lord Christ." 3. I address parents. If we have a Missionary College, we want a Missionary nurseri/ also. If you are Christian pa- rents, you have already devoted your children to God ; " to fight under the ban- ner of Christ, against sin, the world, and the devil ; and to continue Christ's faith- ful soldiers and servants unto their lives' end." In the teeth of this engagement, are you seeking for them wealth, honour, distinction'? Are you seeking the grati- fication of what you have vowed to re- nounce, or coveting what you have pro- mised to suppress? or are you withholding them from God, to whom you professed to devote them 1 We want not examples of such resignation. " Oh, man !" said the dying Haliburton to his son, " if I had as many sons as there are hairs in your head, I would bestow them all to God. I would rather have you a Missionary and a martyr than a monarch !" And said the mother of the Wesleys, " Had I twenty sons, I should be glad to see them going as Missionaries, and should rejoice that they were so employed, though I should never see them more !" And what is said in commendation of Abraham 1 " Now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, from me." And what are we who are now here but the fruits of that very act of faithful obedience ; for we are part of his spiritual seed, and blessed in him. Or shall we carry the example still higher 1 " God so loved the world, that" — what 1 he made if? maintained it? blessed it? No ; neither • f these, nor all of these, were the " so," the intenseness of his love. He " so loved it, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believ- eth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." And if He " spared not his only Son," what can his love now I Vol. I.— 43 withhold ? " Shall he not with him, also, freely give us all-things ?" O Christian parents ! if you have never felt that bless- ing as yet, may He, who has given his own Son for us, give you that faith to-night, which, in surrendering your children to God, divests you of all painful anxiety for them, and makes your happiness secure. 4. I must address //^e?/oun^. We look chicjly to you for our supply of Mission- aries. Christ has conferred this chief honour upon you. How infinitely is this beyond all the other objects that can stimulate your ambition ! In all the others, you are useful for time : in this you la- bour for eternity. Is holiness the truest happiness ? is usefulness the brighest honour ? is the work of saving souls from sin, and guilt, and wrath, the most wor- thy zeal and energy ? Then is this work of a Missionary superior to all others. How poor are the achievements of Greek and Roman youths, recorded on the page of history, and celebrated by poets, com- pared with the labours of Paul ! and may we not say of Brainerd, of Martyn, and of Heber also, who sought, above all besides, the good of others and the glory of their God? 5. I address the great congregation. Remember how you are encouraged to support this great work. I speak not of Bible Societies — or translations — or Mis- sionary colleges — or of agents sent out to Mahommedans and Jews ; I speak not particularly of any institutions established to benefit the bodies or the souls of men, and to spread the name of Christ through- out the world : but I speak of the union of all these at the present moment, as augur- ing better and more glorious days at hand. The prophecies are accomplishing — the prayers of the church for six thousand years are receiving their answer — prayer is still presenting, that Jerusalem may be made the praise of the whole earth — evan- gelical principles are spreading — amidst the pressure of the times, funds are not withheld — missionaries are offering them selves for the work — reconciliation to God is proclaimed, and the world listens to it ; and success is by no means want- ing. The heathen are crying out for help ; and, remembering that " the weapons of 2F 338 THE BRITISH PULPIT. our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God," let us take courage, for surely " the Lord is gone out before us." Let us remember also our obli gations. " Freely we have received, freely let us give." Remember what you were ; among the darkest of the nations : re- member what you are ; perhaps the most enlightened in the world. Six hundred millions of liuman beings are still sunk in darkness, and cry, " Come over, and help us !" Among these are more than a hun- dred millions of your fellow-subjects. Remember the value of but erne soul, pos- sessed of an eternal duration, and deprived of the glories of salvation during that eternity ! Remember how little has been done, and how much remains to he done ! Remember where you live, and when you live ! — in England, and in the middle of the nineteenth century of Christianity : remember, too, why you live ; and aim to honour Christ, and glorify God. Remem- ber that " the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now, waiting for the manifestation of the sons of God." And remember that, with abundant promises of the Spirit's influ- ence, God has eminently committed io you the gospel of reconciliation to a lost world. But are loe prepared for this holy work ? Allow me here to speak plainly and une- quivocally. We want a bolder avowal in our personal religion — in the family — the social circle — the magistracy — the legis- lature— the cabinet — but, above all, in the pulpit, — "I am for Christ!" We want that zeal, that boldness, for the glory of Christ crucified, which shone in Cranmer, and Ridley, and Latimer, and Bradford, and Philpot, and others, the martyrs of the Reformation. Let us live and preach as they, and their success shall be ours. We want unity also ; both in the Esta- blished Church, and in the church of God at large. I should hail the union of all the efforts of the people of God, as a proof that God was indeed at work. The love of Christ can alone effect this. Let the love of Christ be paramount to human selfishness, and all seeming differences would appear " trifles, light as air," com- pared with the cause of Christ, and hi» glory in the earth. But is this all 1 Do we not want a greater manifestation of faith — of Chris- tian holiness — of humility — of love — of deadness to the world — of less display in person, in furniture, in habits, in dress 1 Is all, in these respects, as it should be in men of God ■? Let the consciences of all reply ! We want a Christian education also. Here is the root of all our mischief! We have virtually forsaken the Bible, " the fountain of living waters; and have hewn out for ourselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water." We give six days to Mythology, and scarcely one to the Bible ; and then wonder- that things are as they are. At the baptismal font we vow regard to the souls of our chil- dren, and then devote the whole of our attention to their temporal interests ! And then, of course. We want Missionaries. W'hy 1 Only consider the wants we have already named — a bolder avowal of the gospel — unity among the people of Christ — a Christian conversation — a Christian edu- cation. If we had these, we should have Missionaries, and the Avorld might soon rejoice in the salvation of God. In one word, brethren, are you ^^recon- ciled to God .?" If so, you have given your hearts to God ; and if he has your hearts, he has your all; your affections, your children, your money, your talents, your faculties of body and soul, are all His. Your prayers, your praises, your aspira- tions— all in nature, all in grace— are His. Do you love mankind, your friends, your children, yourselves? Love Christ, and you show the best love to them — serve Christ, and you serve them — advance the cause of Christ, and you advance their in- terests also. Christ, and all connected with Him, are alone immortal. Your money must pass away — your friends — your children — your estates — yourselves must pass away — " the world passeth away, and the lust thereof:" " But fix'd his word, his saving power remains; Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns." SERMON XXXVII. THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD. BY THE REV. C. BENSON, AT TEMPLE CHURCH. ''Bui some men will say, How are the dead raised? and with what body do they come ?" — 1 Cor. XV. 35. Of all the doctrines which the gospel has brought to light, when making known to us that life and immortality which is purchased by the merits of the sacrifice of Jesus'Christ, the most inexplicable to human reason is that of the resurrection from the dead, the reunion of the body and soul in another and a better world, where there will be no disease to weaken, and no death again to dissolve the con- nexion which will then be once more formed. The Grecian and Roman philo- sophers might have some faint notion of a future state, in which the soul would either be happy or miserable for ever, according to the merits of the being in whose vile tabernacle it dwelt on earth. But that future state was to consist, in their view, not of another union to the body, but in a complete and permanent separation from the bondage of the flesh, from pain, and suffering, and decay. They looked upon the body as the prison and the degradation of the soul ; and con- ceived its only hope of felicity to be placed in an emancipation from its dun- geon of earthliness. Nor have the deists, in the latter days, ever conceived a doc- trine of a different kind : they have deem- ed it necessary to disembody the spiritual part of man in order that it might be happy for ever. But the doctrine of Christianity is of a different character; it promises to man a perfection and an eternity of happiness both in body and soul: it tells the disci- ple of the gospel that as he is now so he will be hereafter — a compound of matter and spirit ; and that the same being who on earth is faithful to his Saviour will, in heaven, be glorified by that Saviour; that he who disbelieves or disobeys his Lord's will, in the same form in which he sinned in this state of pilgrimage, be condemned to everlasting and unavailing anguish in the appointed state of retribu- tion. This was the promise of Jesus to his followers ; and to illustrate and con- firm that promise, he himself burst the bands of death, and showed himself alive after his passion to his various disciples, and after forty days ascended visibly with his body into the heavenly regions. He had declared to them., not only that where he was they should be also, but as he was they also should become. Now, they had beheld him mounting up into heaven ; into heaven, therefore, they themselves, also, were to obtain an en- trance. They had beheld him carrying up thither the body in which he had walked with them, and talked with them, during the course of his earthly ministry : with the same body therefore with which they had accompanied him — with the same eyes which had looked on him — with the same ears that had heard him — and with the same hands that had handled him, they themselves were to follow him into the heavenly places, and become the companions of angels, princi- palities„and powers. It was a glorious doctrine; and, convinced of its truth by every necessary testimony to their senses, 339 340 TJIE BRITISH PULPIT. and every reasonable reliance upon the Saviour's words, they went forth and preached Jesus and the resurrection, as the two fundamental principles of the religion of the gospel. But it was one of the most wonderful and unexpected doctrines, and many who embraced the faith of Christ were yet often dwelling on its singularity ; and, with a vain and useless effort to clear up the whole mighty mystery, were often asking the questions of the text, and confounding both them- selves and their teachers, by demanding how the dead shall be raised up, and with what body shall they come. It is not to presume to answer these inscrutable questions in the fullest extent that I have chosen these words for the subject of our present consideration. The event alone can tell us the means and the mode by which God will operate this astonishing renovation of the whole hu- man race : and, in a question so confess- edly beyond the reach of man's present faculties, it is far better to leave the solu- tion of the wonder to the appointed time. But there is one sense in which every Christian may be allowed to adopt the questions of the text; and that is in the scriptural sense. Every one may, and, if he duly esteem and make it his study and delight, he will and ought naturally to inquire what the Scriptures themselves have taught us concerning the manner and the order in which the dead shall be raised up, and the nature of that body with which they will come out from their graves. This is the information which we may legitimately seek ; and I will, therefore, in the remainder of this discourse, endeavour to lay before you a few of the leading and undoubted cir- cumstances which may be gleaned from the different portions of the apostolic writings concerning the resurrection of the dead. The first point which is most forcibly laid down is, The universality of this re- union of the body and soul. It is not a favour reserved only for the redeemed who will be called out from the cham- bers of the dead to enjoy, in body and spirit, the reward of that obedience which they have paid to God both in body and spirit ; while the faithless and impeni- tent, the extortioner and adulterer, the worldly-minded and the lover of pleasure and folly, will be left to slumber on for ever in the unconsciousness of the grave. The wicked sometimes hope that, but they cannot hope with any foundation in the Scriptures. Jill that are in their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of man, and shall awake; some, indeed, to everlasting glory, but some to everlasting shame and contempt. " There will be a resurrection," says the apostle, " both of the just and of the unjust." And while the bodies of the saints shall in- herit the kingdom prepared for them from the beginning of the world ; the flesh of the ungodly shall rise to live for ever likewise, and living to find for ever the worm that dieth not, and burn for ever in the lake of fire prepared for the devil and his angels. Whatever be the meaning of these si- militudes, doubtless they are similitudes of an anguish of a most fearful nature ; and doubtless it is an anguish which will fall at the resurrection both upon the bodies and upon the souls of the ungodly. Remember the recompense due for the misdeeds of the body when united to the spirit. It is well that we should ever bear engraven on our memories this thought : because the Bible, when it speaks of the resurrection, speaks so constantly, and so much more copiously, of what will be the fate of those who are saved through Christ, than of those who are lost and condemned, that we may be liable to lose the awakening recollection of what horrid sufferings will then fall upon the wicked. The second assurance which we derive from the word of God concerning the manner of the resurrection is this — that it u'ill be iJistantaneous as loell as universal. At one time — at one sound — by one act of almighty power, the whole mass and mul- titude of sleepers shall awake. Death does his work of desolation by successive changes : his conquests are slow and gradual ; and generation after generation, and man after man, are bowed down at his unwelcome bidding. But the Lord of life will declare his superior and irre- THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD. 341 sistible might, by breaking at once the bonds of all who have been the conquer- or's captives. It is not because the first parents of the human race were the earli- est who tasted the bitterness of dying, that they will therefore be the earliest to taste the sweetness of reviving. It is not because Abraham and Isaac, and the prophets, are dead, and have mouldered some thousands of years ago, that they will therefore spring up from the dust with a proportionable priority of time, before all their children who have since fallen victims to the same law of mortal- ity. There is one — and but one — hour appointed for the sea to give up the dead that are in it, and death and hell to give up the dead that are in them, and the forest and the wilderness, and the sepul- chre to restore the bones of the bodies which were intrusted to their keeping. In that hour the patriarchs and prophets of the world, before and after the flood — the kings and the subjects of Babylon and Rome — the disciples of Moses and of Christ, however separated from each other by the difference of time and place, by the first birth, will spring up in this second generation the sons of the same day, contemporary children of the gene- ral resurrection. "For the trumpet shall sound," says the apostle, " and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump." In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump, the whole vallej' of dry bones will be revived; bone will come to his bone, and sinews bind them, and flesh cover them, and spirit be breathed into them; and they shall all become, what they once were, living, moving things — all at the last trump, and not one shall be wanting. But " behold," says the apostle, to whom we are indebted for almost all our dim conceptions of the future world, "behold, I show you a mystery," a cir- cumstance which reason could not have attained, and for which we are wholly indebted to the revelation of the Spirit of God. That mystery is this : — All will not sleep ; all who are dead will rise at once, but all will not die, and, therefore, all will not be placed under the necessity of rising again. Those who are alive and remain on the earth as its inhabitants — and it is clear that some must so live and remain when the general resurrection takts place — shall none of them sleep, as other men have done, in the dumb forget- fulness of the grave ; but they shall all be changed; a change will pass over them equivalent to death and the resurrection, but death and the resurrection they will not literally know. Nor will even this wondrous and momentary change hap- pen to them until all the rest of mankind have been revived into everlasting exist- ence. The whole process of this singular operation is distinctly recorded in the last verses of the fourth chapter of the first Epistle to the Thessalonians. " This we say unto you by the word of the Lord" — mark how solemnly he brings forward this statement — " This we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent," or go before, " them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God : and the dead in Christ shall rise first : then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words." It is a wonderful scene which those men will behold — it is a wonderful thing to which the)' will be subject. And an imagination, even of the dullest cast, can scarcely help forming unto itself some picture of the strangeness of the event, and the awfulness of the feelings with which it will be contemplated. We are in search of truth and profit, not of ideal representations : and having, therefore, seen in some measure how the dead are raised — having seen that there will be a contemporaneous resurrection of the bodies of all the dead, both of the just and of the unjust, in one appointed day ; and that, after all the dead have been raised, there will next pass a change on the bodies of the living; let us pro- ceed to examine with what bodies the dead Mall rise, and with what bodies the 2 f2 342 TIIE BRITISH PULPIT. living will be caught up into the air to meet the Lord. First of all, then, we are taught that at the resurrection there will be a modifi- cation in the bodies, or rather in the attri- butes of the bodies which we bear with us on the earth : for, as all flesh is not the same flesh, but there is one kind of flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, ano- ther of fishes, and another of birds ; so also, says the apostle, is the resurrection of the dead. As the nature of the living body of one class of created beings differs from the living body of another class of created beings, so also does our present body of clay differ from that with which we shall be clothed when brought forth from the grave to an eternal existence. The nature of this change in general the apostle thus describes : — " The Saviour, when he shall appear, will not only call up our vile bodies from the grave, but so change them that they shall be no longer vile, but become like unto his own glo- rious body, according to the mighty work- ing whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself." Nor is the apostle content with this single and general inti- mation on the subject; he has pursued it into a variety of the most interesting par- ticulars ; he has given us every degree of information which it is necessary to possess. Our body, when it dies, he tells us, in the first place, " is sown in corruption :" it is the heir of death, the daughter of the earth, and the sister of the world ; a ves- sel of clay, with the principle of dissolu- tion bound up in its very essence, and the sentence of mortality written on its brow. It is to be raised in incorruption, without the possibility of being either crushed by violence, or worn away by suffering, with the germ of life planted in its centre, and springing up into a con- tinual renewal of its vital powers, free from the decay of death, unchanging and unchangeable. Our body will, it is added, be sown " in dishonour." It is a body which hath its shameful and less honourable parts, as well as its more noble and dignified mem- bers. It is subject to deformities which make it hideous — to losses and defects which make it useless — and it fs a state of wounds and bruises, and putrifying sores. In its most beautiful state the body has some uncomeliness, and its best honours fade and depart with youth, and turn into the wrinkles of wretchedness and age. But it will be raised in glory — the glory of unblemished righteousness, and the unspotted loveliness of a perpe- tual spring; and also in the ethereal and eternal charm of an angelic purity. It will be without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, a delight to every eye that looks upon it; walking like our first parents in the paradise of God, naked, but not ashamed ; without one dishonour- able member, without one dishonourable infirmity. Our body, when it dies, is sown as it had lived, in weakness, in utter inability to labour without weariness in any work, however good or great. The body is in its power unable to fulfil the grand and lofty desires of the understanding; weak it is to obey the holier aspirations of the soul. The mind museth upon many things in its activity and strength — the body weigheth down in its musings. The spirit searcheth even the deep things of God ; but the languid incapacity of the sluggish flesh is unable to sustain the weight of its desires. The mind can do many things ; but the weakness of the body hindereth. It circumscribrs my longings after wisdom — checks me in my pursuits after truth. I would go and find wisdom in the uttermost parts of the earth — my body is weak in motion. I would search for hidden treasures day and night — my body is weak in watch- ing. 1 would penetrate the deepest mys- teries by the energy of unbroken medita- tion— my body is feeble, and its feeble- ness must be renovated. It is the same also in my pursuits of holiness. Sup- pose the mind forms the image of a great and godly enterprise for God's glory and man's welfare ; then the living portion of strength fails, and the heart faints, ere half the task of holiness has been ac- complished. It is a feeble and unready instrument of the will, ever disappoint- ing our best wishes, and leaving our best ideas unfulfilled. But it Avill not ever THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD. 343 be thus. It is sown in weakness — it will be raised in power : its capacities of ac- tivity and endurance of motion will fly from one end of heaven to the other at the bidding of our good intentions, and feel no decay of strength, never be weary in well- doing, and never sink under the bur- den. Lastly, says St. Paul, the body that dies is " sown a natural body," the source of all fleshly natural lusts, and the seat of all earthly natural passions. But the body of the natural man is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be ; for the flesh of the natural man lusteth always against the Spirit, and mindeth earthly things. But it will be raised a spiritual body — spiritual, and therefore holy in all its feelings, desires, and wants : the ever living, never failing instrument of obedience to the will of the spirit. There is but one other particular to be mentioned, and that is, that though the body of every redeemed Christian will at the resurrection be risen up, the glory will not be equal in all. The stars in the firmament on high shine not all with an equal lustre, or with an equal force: the beams of some are faint and feeble — the glow of others powerful and bright ; yet the shining of them all, however pure and powerful in the darkness of night, is lost before the coming splendour of the great luminary of day. When the sun rises on the earth, the stars get them away together, and their beautiful bright- ness is perceived no more. And thus also will it be, as we are taught by the apostle, with the bodies of the saints when called from the grave to walk their everlasting rounds upon the face of God's heavenly firmament. Some will have a higher and better glory, and some Avill have an humbler bliss. The glory of the most glorious of all the stars will dwin- dle, decay, and fall disregarded in the presence of the superior excellency of the Lord Jesus, the sun of righteousness, the ruler of the heavens and everlasting day. So are we taught by the apostle Paul when he says, "that as there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars ; and as one star differeth from another star in glory — so also shall be the resurrection of the dead." Blessed be the Lord Jesus, that he hath inspired the apostle to make known to man these circumstances ; for had we not known them, had we been left to imagine that any single portion of the folly and infirmities of this life would have clung to us in another life, we should have looked on the one doctrine of the gospel with dread rather than joy. It would have been a melancholy pros- pect to have thought that in eternity we should have borne about with us a body subject in the slightest degree to our pre- sent wants and weariness. Yet that may, perhaps, be a portion of the punish- ment of the wicked in a future life. And be it well remembered that in all that Scripture saith concerning the changes of the resurrection, it speaks only of the bodies of the redeemed : it passes over what will happen to those who will then stand at the left hand of the Lord with a carelessness, a sort of contemptuous si- lence for them. Therefore we are still left to apprehend that there will be no ameliorating change wrought upon their bodies by the resurrection, save the change from mortal to immortal. They will then, if that be the case, still be the victims of all the sufferings, sorrows, and wretchedness of this earthly state ; and they will carry with them, as their ever- lasting curse, an incorruptible corruption — a weakness too strong to sink into dis- solution— perpetual dishonour — lusts that cannot find exercise — diseases that have no hope of death. This will be their portion, to drink for ever the miseries of earth with the eternity of hell. Sad con- trast of their own thorns in the fiesh and the glorified and sanctified bodies of the redeemed. Such are the answers that Scripture enables us to give to the questions of the text ; such the manner and order in which we are taught the dead will be raised ; such the bodies with which we may ex- pect they will rise. What, then, is the lesson of profit we may derive from this consideration ■? The first is that of a warning to pre- pare for this awful change. If there will 344 THE BRITISH PULPIT. be indeed a rising again both of the just and of the unjust — and if even after death the body as well as the soul will be made to inherit the reward of its deeds, how holy should we become in all manner of conversation and godliness. For it is no half measure of retribution which we shall receive ; the same man that sinneth, the same being in flesh and spirit shall be in eternal misery or joy. We have here, therefore, a rule and a line by which to calculate the amount of our punish- ment or our recompense. We know well ■what it is to rejoice in the days of our youth, in the sunshine of the heart, and the energy of the bodily powers. We know equally well what it is in sickness and sorrow to endure, though it be but for a single night, the anguish of a wound- ed spirit united to the pains of a diseased body. We have only to extend the du- ration of these enjoyments or sufferings from time to eternity ; and, behold, we have before us a picture of Christian retribution such as will, and such as is most of all adapted to work upon our minds and hearts ; intelligible in its na- ture, and therefore powerful as a motive ; not vague nor imaginative, and therefore neither visionary nor curious. But there is another peculiar class of duties to which this doctrine more parti- cularly persuades ; and there is one pe- culiar class of sins from which it more especially guards us : I mean the sins and duties of our fleshly members. " I beseech you, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to the Lord." So speaks the apostle, alluding more particularly to that great mercy of having our vile body changed, that it should be like to the glorious body of Christ, which he calls, especially, the redemption of the body. There is, truly, no other doctrine which can so forcibly exhort to the mortification of our members which are on the earth. And you find St. Paul continually using it : " Mortify therefore your members" — he has just been speaking of our being raised from the dead — " mortify therefore your rnembers which are upon the earth ; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affec- tion, evil concupiscence, idolatry" — and all other fleshly lusts of the eye, the tongue, and the body. Why, what is the hope of the resurrection Avhich I shall see 1 What is the nature of the change for which I am to prepare ] It is that this poor pitiful frame, this tabernacle of clay which I bear about with me here on earth, the source of my pains, the foun- tain of my sorrows, the seat of disease, and the heir of death — it is that even this wretched frame shall spring up from its dust, thrown aside its dishonour, forget its weakness, be purified from all the dregs of its earthly corruption, rise from the dead, ascend up into heaven with Christ, who is gone before; and there stand, the fellow of angels, before the throne of God. Glorious hope ! mysterious exaltation ! What rev/ard, then, shall I give to the Lord for his mighty marvellous loving- kindness to this earthly body 1 These eyes, if they be admitted into heaven, will look upon the holiness of the Lamb — will see the brightness of his glory- marvel at the majesty of his Deity — and almost be blinded in the excessive glories of the heavenly host. Shall I, then, fix these eyes upon the vain and unholy ob- jects of- the earth 1 And shall I fill them with intemperance, cruelty, lust, and so unfit them for the contemplation of the spiritual splendour of God's unblemished purity 1 These ears — they are hereafter to listen to the harps of the angels, to hear the unceasing songs of gratitude of the redeemed ; shall I turn them away, then, from this their holiest and most honourable occupation, and bid them drink in with greedy readiness the tempt- ing accents of the charmer who would charm me from the ways of righteous- ness 1 Or shall I let them unhallow my soul by being open to the deceitfulness of that philosophy which would take away my heart, and destroy its delicacy by listening to the voice of wit and jest- ing, and licentious thoughts 1 Shall I take the members which are predestined to the holy office of serving before God's unblemished throne, and make them the members of a harlot, the instruments of uncleanness, and the slaves of vice and licentiousness ] Shall this tongue which is hereafter to cry out with all the saints. THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD. 345 " Glory and blessing, honour, and praise be for ever and ever to the Lamb that sitteth on the throne" — shall I degrade ray tongue by lying, by deceit, by licen- tious conversation ] Shall that which is intended for a blessing in heaven, be made on earth the instrument of cursing? Shall these hands, which are to be lifted up to God in his holy place, be taught the ways of wickedness, of theft, and mur- der, and cruelty, and revenge on earth 1 Shall these organs of life, which are to eat and drink in the presence of the Lord, be corrupted with gluttony and drunken- ness 1 Shall any one part of that body which shall hereafter converse with an- gels, which hath been honoured with the indwelling of the Divinity^which now rules in heaven — shall that body be con- verted into a temple of God's worst enemy, and of man's worst enemy, and the worst enemy of all that is happy and good — the prince of darkness, the author of misery, and of all that is miserable, and vile, and guilty, and to be despised 1 God forbid. The body is to be the Lord's; and, as the body is to be the Lord's, let it glorify the Lord. Let me be doing while I can, and as long as I can. Fasting is hard ; yet, if meat offend my God, I will eat no meat as long as I live. If he require chastity, I will give it. If he ask temperance, I will check my appetites : if purity, why I will even close my eyes, lest they should look on the cause of temptation. In all things, since God has given us such a glorious hope, I will endeavour to sanctify myself, through grace, for the great end of my calling, the entire devotedness both of my body and soul, that both my body and soul may be fitted to stand up in his holy presence, being justified, washed, and glorified by the blood of my Saviour, Jesus Christ. CHRISTIAN MISSIONARY. A MISSIONARY arises amongst his fel- lows almost like the denizen of another sphere : home, and country, and kindred, Vol. I.— 44 all are comj)aratively forgotten. He hath heard tidings of distant provinces over which superstition rolls her chariot wheels, red with the blood of human sacrifice — he hath listened to the recital which speaks of tribes and multitudes passing into eternity, darkly and cheer- lessly as the beasts that perish — he hath spread before him the map of the world, and he hath dissected it into moral parti- tions, and he hath wondered and he hath wept, when taught that Christ, who died for the sins of the dwellers in every land, is known and believed on only in scanty and scattered districts, and all this hath agitated and convulsed his spirit — all this hath conspired to annihilate the ties of former citizenship, to link him in brother- hood with the benighted and degraded of his race — and he snatches up a banner, and emblazoning thereon simply the name of Jesus Christ, leaps upon the waters, and hastens to erect the standard amid polar snows or arid sands, in the valleys and on the mountains of secluded and scarce accessible domains. Jin unregeneraie minister ! — there may be such a thing. An unregenerate mis- sionary ! I dare not, (knowing that the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,) I dare not say there cannot be such a thing ; but certainly it would be in no slight degree difficult to determine the motives which actuate an unregenerate missionary — to developethe secret springs of a conduct so opposed to all the dictates and desires of a carnal spirit — and if it be a positive case that a man, not converted himself, should en- gage, by the surrender of whatsoever is dearest to the natural heart, in the work of converting others, we have a new case to add to the catalogue of anomalies and phenomena whose solution must be left amid the hopeless desiderata of moral science. I can suppose no other princi- ple actuating a missionary, save zeal for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ ; he is not a missionary unless this principle arouse him and nerve him. — Melville. SERMON XXXVIII. THE GLORY OF THE LATTER HOUSE. BY THE REV. J. GRANT. The glory of this latter house shall he greater than of the former, saith the Lord of hosts ; and in this place shall I give peace, saith the Lord of hosts." — Hag. ii. 9. God having called Moses to a confer- ence with him on Mount Sinai, imparted to him specific and minute instructions for the building of a tabernacle, or pavi- lion in the wilderness, as the peculiar habitation of the divine glory. By this glory is here meant the Schechinah, or bright cloud, emblematic of his imme- diate presence and protection, which hovered over the Holy of holies. When it was appointed by God that the army, or host of the Israelites, should march from one station in the wilderness to an- other, this luminous column or glory, slowly rose into the air, and moved be- fore them in silent and mysterious ma- jesty, till it arrived at the stage where the camp was to be pitched, when it stooped again upon the mercy-seat, and thus gave the signal to halt. When the fiery pillar rose, the whole multitude ■ bearing the ark, amidst the announce- { ments of trumpets, and the waving of, emblematic banners, set forward singing and shouting, in the first words of the ; sixty-eighth Psalm — " Let God arise, ! let his enemies be scattered : let them j also that hate him flee before him." And when the mist-robed intellio'ence — the ! divine presence stopped — the army obeyed: y. the notice, and welcomed the descending , Jehovah, as they deposited their burthens, with the words, "• Return, 0 God, to the | many thousands of Israel." Hence God is said to be the leader of his people : hence in the promises which Isaiah makes to Israel, if they will turn unto God with a fast of sincerity and charity, it is said, "Thy righteousness shall go before thee, and the glory of the Lord" — the divine 346 presence — " shall be thy rereward." In- numerable passages might be adduced, containing the same allusion to the trans- lacent column, the internally illuminated cloud, the glory, the presence of Jehovah. This portable tent accompanied the peo- ple in all their journeyings; and after their arrival in the promised land, it was pitched in Shiloh, a city situated on a hill, in the tribe of Ephraim, and the name of which was prophetic and typical. Here it remained for many years, till in consequence of the vileness of the sons of Eli, the ark of the covenant was taken in battle, and carried into the cities of the Philistines. As this ark was the encase- ment of the gem, the chief article of fur- niture in the moveable temple, being that on which the divine presence rested, the disconsolate widow of Phineas gave to her posthumous child the name of Icha- bod, signifying, that " the glory," or divine presence, " was departed from Israel." On the restoration of the ark, and on the taking of Jebus, David erected a tabernacle, not like the former, made of pillars and boards of acacia wood, set in sockets of silver, but rather resembling a tent, in which the recovered ark, the pedestal and vehicle of the " glory," was deposited on Mount Zion ; with the songs and dances of religious exultation. A procession typically representing the as- cent of the Messiah, the King of glory, into heaven, after the conquest over his spiritual enemies. Having thus introduced the subject, I shall now in the First place, consider and compare the two permanent buildings WHICH SUCCEEDED. And THE GLORY OF THE LATTER HOUSE. 347 Secondly, The prophecy relative to THE LATTER. Uavid, in his zeal for the honour of God, was grieved, that he himself was accommodated in a palace of cedar, while the divine presence dwelt within curtains ; and he accordingly made preparations for a magnificent and durable temple. God, however, would not permit him, a man of war and of bloodshed, to accom- plish the undertaking in person, but it was completed with his costly materials in the subsequent reign of his son, Solo- mon, the peaceful and the magnificent. By the building of this stately edifice, consisting of stones hewn from the quar- ries, and cedar from the forests of Leba- non, " For here fair science nursed her infant fire, Fann'd by the artist aid of friendly Tyre ; Then tower'd the palace, then in awful state The temple rear'd its everlasting gate ; No workman's steel, no ponderous axes rung, Like some tall palm the noiseless fabric sprung — Majestic silence !" By the building of this permanent structure, I say, an important promise was faithfully and fully performed. It was then that the Israelites were con- firmed in the rest which they enjoyed after all their toils and journeyings ; and a type was thereby afforded of the Sab- bath and repose of heaven, to be enjoyed by the soul after its tabernacle, the bodily frame, shall have finished its wanderings through the dreary wilderness of life. " For we know," says the apostle Paul to the Corinthians, "that if our earthly house of this tabernacle," that is, our body, a perishable tabernacle of the im- mortal spirit; if this, I say, were dis- solved by death, " we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eter- nal in the heavens ;" that is, our souls shall be clothed with an incorruptible and permanent body, fashioned after the likeness of Christ's glorious body. When Solomon dedicated unto God this gorgeous edifice, rich with gold, sil- ver, brass, precious stones, and olive wood ; when he had finished all its courts, and porticoes, and altar, and molten sea, when he had assembled many priests to celebrate the holy ceremony with vocal and instrumental music ; " When the harp awoke. The cymbal clang'd, the deep-tongued trum> pet spoke." When he had offered a sublime prayer, and immolated a prodigious number of victims. " Then Salem spread her suppliant arras abroad, View'd the descending flame and bless'd the present God." The personal Jehovah descended his radiant cloud, which filled all the house, as an emblem of his taking possession of it; and he likewise appeared in a vision of the night to Solomon, whom he assured that he had chosen that place for a house of sacrifice, and a home where his honour — his glory, should dwell. Accordingly St. Paul, in speaking of the Israelites, distinguishes them to those " to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the service of God, and the pro- mises." And in his epistle to the Hebrews, he describes the first or legal covenant, as having a tabernacle, and candlestick, and table, and show-bread in the sanctuary, or holy place ; and with- in the second veil, the holiest of all, hav- ing the ark of the covenant, and over it, the cherubim of " glory" covering the mercy-seat. This edifice was erected nearly five hundred years after the first pitching of the tabernacle in the wilder- ness. It subsisted upwards of four hundred years, when it was utterly de- molished by Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, who carried the .Tews into his own country ; and where they remained in captivity during seventy years, fifty- eight years only from the destruction of the temple. At the end of that period, Cyrus, king of Persia, who had recently made himself master of Babylon, permit- ted the Jew-s to return to their own coun- try, (agreeably to the prophecy which had announced him by name,) and restored to them the sacred vessels and utensils of divine service, which Nebuchadnezzar had carried away as spoils. In the second year, subsequent to the return of the first great detachment of Jews into 348 THE BRITISH PULPIT. Judea, they began to clear away the ruins of Mount Moriah, and to lay the founda- tions of a new temple, which the Scrip- tures call '• the latter house." The young men on this occasion rejoiced at the idea of worshipping, in a fane of their own, the God of their fathers, whose praises they had heard in their captivity, but whose grandeur they never witnessed. But the old men, who fifty-eight years before, remembered the temple of Solo- mon standing in its venerable magnifi- cence, like an ancient oak, whose trunk is enveloped with moss, and who foresaw that poor captives had neither funds nor materials in evil days, and after a long period of misfortune, to build a structure that would at all vie with the splendour and extent of Solomon's architecture and decorations, instead of rejoicing, wept aloud ; so that, as we learn in the book of Ezra, the people could not discern the noise of the shout of joy, from the noise of the weeping uttered by the ancient priests and Levites, and chiefs of the fathers of Israel. To cheer on the eman- cipated captives to the work, in this state of mingled exultation and despondence, God sent the word of a glorious prophec)'. " Who is left among you," exclaimed the venerable Haggai, " that saw this house in her first glory ] how do ye see it now 1 is it not in your eyes in comparison of it as nothing 1 yet now be strong, O Zerub- babel, saith the Lord ; and be strong, O Joshua, son of Josedeck, the high-priest; and be strong all ye people of the land, saith the Lord, and work ; for I am with you." "The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of the former," and I will fill this house with glory, " and in this place will I give peace, saith the Lord of hosts." Now what were the circumstances WHICH FULFILLED THIS PREDICTION. Let this be our second point of consideration. Disputes have arisen among divines, whether, the temple built by Herod the great, about forty years before the birth of Christ, was an entirely new erection; or a restoration of the temple of Zerubba- * bel, retaining the foundations of that edi- fice, and even a porch which yet remained of the former temple of Solomon. The sly antagonists of Christianity, assailing it under the mask of liberal friendship and rational support, have contended for the entire re-construction of the temple of Herod ; thinking that they might there- by obtain a sidelong hit at the veracity of prophecy, which, as we shall imme- diately see, declared that the Messiah should come to that second temple of Zerubbabel. But in this attempt they have entirely failed, it being clearly proved by their opponents that Herod reared his temple on the yet standing foundations of the temple of Zerubbabel, though crumbling in the decay of nearly six hundred years. But were it other- wise we cannot suppose, that so grand a prediction as that announcing a glory of the latter house which should be greater than the glory of the former, had no fur- ther reference than merely to the superior architecture of Herod's temple, though it had pinnacles glittering like stars, and massive marble stones, and a vine of gold and jewels, and a sculptured porch, de- scribed by Josephus, as when touched by the sun, resembling a hill of snow. Its superior glory, notwithstanding these splendours, must have rested on some- thing spiritual. Now, in certain spiritual respects, the mere splendour of the second temple was, so far from being greater, very much in- ferior to that of the temple of Solomon. We have it upon the authority of Jewish tradition, that the second temple when finished was deficient in five particulars, which had all conspicuously added to the grandeur of the first. One of these was the original ark of the covenant and the mercy-seat, with the two tables of the law, and the pot of manna, and Aaron's rod that budded, and which had all been conveyed into Solomon's temple from the primitive tabernacle of the wilderness, and were the most sacred of Jewish anti- quities. These were lost in Babylon, and never restored. It is usually sup- posed, indeed, that an ark or chest was made for the temple of Zerubbabel after the fashion of the first ark of the cove nant, and that Ezra's corrected copy of the Pentateuch was therein deposited : a circumstance rendered probable by what THE GLORY OF THE LATTER HOUSE. 349 we see in modern synagogues which have all a little coffer, wherein some valuable manuscript of the law is laid up. But whether the cherubim, whose wings formed the mercy-seat, were absent from the second temple or not, that which brooded therein — the Schcchinah, the emblem and envelopment of the present Jehovah, was certainly nowhere to be found. Again, the urim and the thum- mim, the twelve gems on the high-priest's breastplate, which in some way gave out oracular responses, was either no longer in the second temple, or no longer pos- sessed its oracular virtues. A fourth particular in which the second temple yielded in glory to the first, was that of the fire on the altar, which had come down from heaven to consume the first sacrifices both of Moses and Solo- mon, and was preserved without being ever extinguished even down to the pe- riod of the burning of the temple of Nebuchadnezzar. And the last point of inferiority con- sisted in the spirit of prophecy, which, though it remained in the three prophets, Haggai, Zachariah, and Malachi, while the second temple was building, yet for ever afterwards ceased during five hun- dred years, until Anna, Zacharias, and John the Baptist, announced, like morn- ing stars melting into a dawn, the actual arrival of the Sun of righteousness. What circumstances, then, we return to ask, verified the prophecy of Haggai — that the glory of the latter house should be greater than that of the former, seeing that it was comparatively so mean a build- ing, and inferior in these five important respects. Let Haggai himself reply — " For thus saith the Lord of hosts ; yet once, it is a little while, and I will shake the heavens, and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land ; and I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations" — He who should be desired and expected by all nations, both Jews and Gentiles — " shall come ; and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of hosts." Let Zachariah reply — " The man whose name is the Branch (the branch out of the root of Jesse) shall bear the gh>ri/ ,- and shall sit and rule upon his throne ; and the Messiah, the King of Zion, meek and bringing salvation, cometh, riding upon a colt, the foal of an ass ; and there shall be a fountain opened in Jerusalem for sins, and for uncleanness — and the shep- herd shall be smitten, and the sheep shall be scattered ; and they shall look on him whom they pierced ; and he shall be sold for thirty pieces of silver, and given to the potter." Let Malachi reply, " Be- hold I will send my messenger, and ht- shall prepare the way before me : and tht Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly comt to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in ; behold he shall come, saith the Lord of hosts.' In fact, four years after the superstructure of Herod was fully built upon the foun- dations of the temple of Zerubbabel, the infant Jesus was introduced into that temple ; and again, in his twelfth year, when he reasoned with the doctors; and afterwards twice, when he expelled the buyers and sellers from his Father's house as desecrating that house of prayer. It is clear, then, that the presence of Christ is the grand circumstance which verified the prediction of Haggai — that the glory of the latter house should be greater than the glory of the former. )l^ Another point in which the glory of the latter house was greater than the glory of the former was the court of the Gen- tiles. The temple of Solomon had only two courts — that of the priests and that of the Israelites. The Gentiles were considered as profane, and unless con- verted, as wholly adopting the Jewish religion, disregarded and despised. It is not precisely known at what time after the captivity the court of the Gentiles was enclosed : but, when built, probably after the translation of the Septuagint, two hundred and ninety years before Christ (which with the dispersion of the Jews spread abroad an acquaintance with the sublimities of the tiue religion) this outer court admitted all men to a certain consideration among the chosen people. The publican, the Ethiopian eunuch, Cornelius, and others, were what is called proselytes of the gate ; admitted within the golden gate of Susa, and worshipping 3G S50 THE BRITISH PULPlT. the one God in the court of the Gentiles at Jerusalem. This was a step towards the further admission of the nations into the entire covenant of peace, through the blood of him who entered within the great or inner veil, threw down the chel, the middle wall of partition between the first and second courts, beyond which it had formerly been death for the Gentiles to pass, and brought them near which were before time afar off, and made both one. This was also foretold by the pro- phets, both before and after the captivity, and recognised by the aged Simeon. " I will give thee," saith Isaiah, " for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation to the ends of the earth," "And from the rising of the sun," said IMalachi, "to the going down of the same", "my" — that is, Christ's name " shall be great among the Gentiles." And Christ came, as a light to lighten the Gentiles, not less than as a glory unto the people of Israel. Now as this admission of the Gentiles into the privileges of the new covenant, tended to liberalize the minds of the Jews, so on a more contracted scale, ought it not less to teach the different persuasions of Christians to regard each other with due toleration and indulgence; and mak- ing a prudent reservation of their own views and principles, to unite in senti- ments and deeds of charity. Thus we see that it was altogether in a spiritual sense, that the glory of the latter house was greater than the glory of the former. Jerusalem, the sacred city, is once more ruined, the temple has been again buried. It was rased to the ground, and even salt was sown where the plough had been dragged over the site of its foundations. One stone has not been left upon another — even as our Saviour predicted. The arch of Titus at Rome bears memorials of its plundered trea- sures— its seven-branched and golden candelabrum, its sacred ark, its silver trumpets, which were all deposited in the heathen temple of peace, and ulti- mately lost in the destruction of the west- ern empire. Yet there are still two senses in which we may, with strict propriety, apply the moral of this whole dissertation to our own minds. We have now, after a con- siderable interruption, returned by the blessing of God, to offer our united prayers and praises in a temple, never aspiring, but alwa}'s decent ; not osten- tatiously splendid, but not grudgingly mean ; and at this time restored from its decay, and beautified in the glory of its simplicity. We are not assembled, how- ever, to admire it, or to boast of it out- wardly ; but we are to remember that protestantism, though duly regardful of decent externals and modest decorations— ■ though mindful that man is a being whose senses are the windows of his soul, has lopped off the gaudy trappings of popish superstition. We are to remember thai Christianity is not like Judaism, a reli- gion of pomp and ceremony, and multi- plied festivals ; not like paganism, a religion wherein the fine arts, and the powers of genius, the chisel of the sculp- tor, the ode of the poet, the combinations of instrumental music, the trillings of various voices, the stated procession, the scattered flowers, the blaze of many lights, or the costly frankincense of Ara- bia, are directed to excite the fancy and the passions to a pitch, which lulls the conscience, and draws away attention from the conduct; but a religion of chaste design, and like the yet uncorrupted mo- ther of mankind — " When unadorn'd, adorn'd the most." A religion of the mind and of the heart — a religion of convinced reason, and con- fiding faith and sober feelings — a religion of simplicity and sincerity — a religion which teaches that God is a Spirit, and that they who worship Him are to wor- ship Him in spirit and in truth. In this view, then, the grand point to be ac- knowledged by us is this : that however humble the edifice — here God dwelleth, that the light of his countenance is espe- cially in ibis place. The grand duty to be attended to, and object to be devoutly wished is, that in this temple God may, week after week, be more fervently and frequently worshipped, that Christ may be more and more in our thoughts, that THE GLORY OF THE LATTER HOUSE. 851 we may draw near to the Father in his nouse and to the Son at his altar; and thus by a new nativity or presentation of Jesus, in this our comely building, more than by any outward adornment, may the glory of this second house be greater than that of the former. This leads me to consider the second and chief, and last sense in which the subject may be applied figuratively to ourselves. It was not a thing unnatural among the Jews to consider their persons, the bodily frame illumined by the soul, under the figure of a temple, as being, both of them, the residence of Jehovah. Yet their gross understandings, taking every expression literally, accused our Lord as a blasphemer against their holy place, when, predicting his own death and resurrection, he said unto them — " Destroy this temple, and I will raise it up in three days. Howbeit he spake of the temple of his body." This figurative idea is more fully developed by St. Paul, and applied to the disciples of Christ — " Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you. If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the tem- ple of God is holy, which temple ye are." And, again, " What, know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost, which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own 1 For ye are bought with a price : therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's." And, once more, " And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols 1 for ye are the temple of the living God ; as God hath said, I will dwell in them and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people." This temple of the human heart, as it stood originally in Eden, was built, not only after the plan dictated by the will of God, but by God himself, after the conception of his own wisdom, after the model of his own image. Fair was it in its proportions, and goodly in its structure. Every column (every principle) was strength ; every capital (every disposition) was moral beauty — every ornament (every feeling and every thought beincf accordant to the will of God) was symmetry and grace. Its purity was whiter than the Parian marble, and its elements of durability surpassed the cedar wood of Lebanon. In all that edifice there was no imperfection, it was the finishing and climax, and master- work of creation. The mighty Architect himself approved of it, and saw and de- clared that it was good. He then ceased from his labour of six days. He hal- lowed a Sabbath, that that temple of his own, the human soul, might be conse- crated. He entered into it, and dwelt there, and filled it with his presence and his influence ; and even daily descending from on high, he favoured it with his communications and his oracles. " Blessed ! — thrice blessed days, But, ah! how short, — Bless'd as the pleasing dreams of holy men, But fugitive like these, and quickly gone." The fiend, the author of evil, crept into this holy temple, and undermined its strength, and tainted its beauty, and spoiled its ornaments, and made it a prey to its banded enemies. A smiling allure- ment, and a glowing persuasion, the foe without and the foe within, completed the downfall of this beautiful building. Its columns became frail, the worm con- sumed its cedar beams, the mouldering walls admitted rain at every fissure ; it was condemned to destruction, and sin — sin was the conquering Nebuchadnezzar who left it in desolation and decay. But an edict went forth for a restoration of the edifice. The rubbish was cleared away, the walls arose, the beams were braced, the pillars were strengthened, a cement was applied to the chinks, which might in some measure keep out the as- sailing elements ; and such adorning was aflforded, as though inferior to what had been, yet left some traces of pristine beauty, and resemblances of original excellence. Here too, however, under all these dis- advantages, a visitant makes his appear- ance, who renders it true, as of the second temple at Jerusalem, that " the glory of this latter house shall be greater than that of the former." " Lift up your heads, O ye gate§," ye valves of the human heart, 352 THE BRITISH PULPIT. " and the King of glory shall come in. Who is the King of glory T The Lord, the Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory " The same divine presence, that veiled in a golden cloud, filled of old the temple of Solomon — the same which in the likeness of flesh entered the temple of Zerubbabel and of Herod. He, vi^ho now in his influences, by his Spirit, is with his disciples always, even unto the end of the world. Receive these influences, brethren, in the temple of your souls. Behold he, the Messiah, stands at the door of his living temple, the heart of man, and knocks. He might force his way, but he does not ; he treats you as willing be- ings— he knocks. Open unto him, and though in even the humblest mansions, in the breast of the poorest disciple, with reference to outward splendours, he will condescend to come in unto you ; and the church, the spiritual temple of the living God, and each integral part of that church, as a wing, a chamber, one of the many mansions of that temple, will be like the spouse of the King of glory, all glorious within. Prepare to sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, let the Spirit of God dwell in you, and this self-dedication, this spiritual worship, will be a far better consecration, than wealth, and pride, and pagan magnificence, could furnish forth with the cattle on a thousand hills, yea, with rivers of wine and oil. INTERCOURSE WITH THE PEOPLE. Methinks I would willingly exchange all the other knowledge I have, for one glimpse more of God and the life to come. Now, by frequent serious conversation about everlasting things, by diligently instructing and catechising your people, you will gain more of this kind of know- ledge, than can be gained by other means ; and thus you will really grow wiser than those who spend their time in any other way. As theology is a practical science, the knowledge of it thrives best in a prac- tical course. Laying out here is a means of gathering in ; an hearty endeavour to do good, and to communicate, is one ot the greatest helps to our proficiency. So that by this means you are likely to be- come more able pastors of the church, than private studies alone can make you. Particularly it will be an excellent means to help you in preaching ; for when you are well acquainted with your people's cases, you will know what to preach upon. An hour's conversation will fur- nish you with as much matter as an hour's study. As he will be the best physician and lawyer, so he will be the best divine, who adds practice and experience propor- tionable to his studies ; whereas that man will prove an useless drone, who refuses God's service all his life, under a pre- tence of preparing for it ; and let men's souls pass on to perdition, while he pre- tends to be studying how to recover them, or getting more ability to help and save them. — Baxter. PERSONAL PIETY. Let not my sermons be the children of my brain, but the travail of my soul, that I may serve my God with my spirit in the gospel of his Son ,• and as a true vessel of the sanctuary, have within me a savour of that water of life which I pour out to others. It is a doleful thing to fall into hell from under the pulpit. But, oh ! how dreadful is it to drop thither out of it ! Doth not my heart tremble to think, that it is possible for me, like the unbelieving spies, to coast the heavenly Canaan, to commend it to others, and yet never to possess it myself! that whilst I preach to others, / myself may be a cast-away ! Lord, let me exalt thee in my heart, as my chiefest good ; in my life, as mine utmost end ; and preach so eflfectually to my own soul, and to others, that I may both save myself, and them that hear me. — Swinnoch. SERMON XXXIX. THE CHRISTIAN'S DUTY. BY THE REV. JOSEPH E. BEAUMONT. ■ Seek those thins;s that are above." — Col. iii. 1. While irrational creatures, by the con- stitution of their nature, are concerned only for the present moment, it is incum- bent on man to consider his relationship to a future world, and to prepare for and anticipate its enjoyments, as being those only which are adapted to his wide-rang- ing capacity and interminable existence. The reality of a future and superior state has been clearly revealed to us — not to supply matter and occasion of curious and idle speculation — but to influence our conduct and affections, our life and con- versation ; to throw a sacred and immor- tal radiance over this present scene of our being, through which men too generally pass without thought, and from which they retire without hope. It is recorded of Socrates, that he brought men down from heaven to earth ; that is, he drew the attention of men from the stud^ and contemplation of the hea- venly bodies, to the consideration of the nature and end of man, the duties and re- lations of men in this life. Socrates, therefore, was said to have brought down philosophy from heaven to earth. But of Jesus Christ it may be said, that he brings us from earth to heaven ; he teaches us a divine philosophy ; raises man from things seen, and temporal, and earthly, to things spiritual, heavenly, and eternal. He hath entered the heavenly places, and we are invited and entreated to follow. There is no subject to which the Scrip- tures more frequently solicit our attention than this. They constantly stamp this Vgb. L— 45 life with importance, by calling us to con- sider its relationship to that state of rest and blessedness in heaven, which is the ultimate design of the Almighty concern- ing his rational offspring; a state in which the human mind will be carried to the highest pitch of improvement, and in which all the might of the human facul- ties, thus improved, will find appropriate and delightful exercise. How fitted is the revelation of such a state to awaken the attention and enkindle the desire of every living thing that is heir to immor- tality ! And how effectually were the first Christians encouraged by it, to en- dure all that trial of cruel mocking and scourging, bonds and imprisonment, tor- tures and death, to which they were call- ed for righteousness' sake ! And what will so detach our hearts from the low and sordid vanities of earth ; what will so guard us from its intoxicating and pollut- ing pleasures ; what will so sustain and exhilarate us, amidst its keen and varied sorrows ; and, in short, what will so ena- ble us to possess our souls in patience under all that we have to do, and all that we have to suffer, in this the house of our pilgrimage, as the continual thought, the bright prospect, the well-assured hope of the glories that are at God's right hand 1 Hence the inspired writers are constantly directing our thoughts to heaven ; instruct- ing and exhorting us to elevate our affec- tions to the things that are above. Listen to the entreaty of the apostle in the words of the text: "Seek," — with impressive 2 o 2 353 354 THE BRITISH PULPIT. and affectionate solemnity and earnestness he calls upon us to "seek those things that are above." Our remarks shall turn on, I. The things themselves to which reference is here made ; II. The conduct enjoined in relation to them ; and, III. The motives which should impel US to this conduct. I. The sublime object to which the EXHORTATION OF THE APOSTLE RELATES. By " the things above" we understand the future blessedness, perfection, and glory of believers in heaven. In this ex- planation, we are supported by the latter part of the verse and of the sentence in which the words of the text lie. " Seek those things that are above," " where," adds the apostle, " Christ sitteth at the right hand of God." Now, at the right hand of God, as the sixteenth Psalm teaches, are transcendent joys and eternal pleasures. "At thy right hand," ex- claims the devout prophet, " there is ful- ness of joy and pleasures for evermore,''^ These, then, arc the things above, even those which are at God's right hand, the mighty joys, the august exercises, the transporting pleasures, of an eternal heaven. Men's vicAvs differ cr-ncerning future, as they differ on the nature of present happiness, and on the way and means of attaining that which is future. Some think of it merely as a continuation of being, from which is excluded all pain, and want, and sorrow ; a mere negative heaven. Some regard it as consisting in the active and uninterrupted exercise of their present senses and faculties ; the full and free indulgence of their present tastes and affinities, inclinations and de- sires, habits and pursuits ; a Mohamme- dan heaven. Others, stretching some- what further, place it in an extension of all their pleasurable faculties, perceptions, and sensibilities, with a vast augmenta- tion of new means of gratification and en- joyment. All our real knowledge of it is gathered from Scripture ; and whatever is not drawn from revelation, or is at vari- ance with its testimony on this subject, IS not .to be regarded. Man, by searching, cannot fini ont God or heaven ; by his own penetration and unaided sagacity, he can neither find out what God is, nor where he dwells; neither his true nature, nor the palace in which he unveils his beauty and glory. Life and immortality are brought to light, but only by Christ Jesus in the gospel. From this source alone we derive all our just and appropriate, all our pure and in- fluential conceptions, on this momentous and lofty theme. Owing to the thick veil that sin and mortality have spread over our mind, we know, even with the revelation tliat God has graciously favoured us, little in comparison of what is to be known. Such is the darkening, and debasing, and debilitating influence of the clouds and fogs of earth, and sense, and sin which now envelope us, that of heaven, its du- ties and exercises, its felicities and glories, "we know but in part." Besides, so much has not been revealed as to gratily the entire of our curiosity, or satisfy the whole of our anxious wishes and desires in relation to the future and celestial state of man. The fact itself of the heavenly blessedness of saints is abundantly clear ; but wherein consists the blessedness, of how many parts it is composed, what various ingredients enter into it, what is its length, and breadth, and height ; what mind can fully conceive, what tongue adequately declare 1 Yet sufficient is made known to answer the merciful pur- poses of our Father in heaven, and to meet the pressing and affecting necessi- ties of his human offspring, whilst jour- neying on through the shadows and wil- dernesses of earth and time : and heaven and eternity themselves must disclose the rest. Yes, happily for us, enough may be seen through the interposing cloud to awaken regard, to stimulate attention, to kindle desire, to rouse our criminal and destructive apathy ; enough to throw the stillness of a solemn awe over our minds in the midst of the gayest and busiest scenes of this world, and to start, and quicken, and sustain us in a career of new, and upward, and holy conduct. The eye of faith beholds the land afar off, sees the King in his beauty, and gazes TilE CHRSSTIAI^TS DUTY. 355 ion tire glories t)f the new Jerusalem. How gracious and condesceiidinff are ■many of the aspects in wliich the Scrip- tures exliibit the heaven of the believer. It is held forth to our view as a banquet, where our souls shall be satisfied for ever- more : the beauties of Jehovah's face, the mysteries of divine grace, the riches of redeeming love, communion with God and the Lamb, fellowship with the infinite Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, being the heavenly fulness on which we shall feed. As a paradise; a garden of fruits and flowers, on which our spiritual natures and gracious tastes will be regaled, through one ever-verdant spring and jgolden summer; a paradise where lurks no serpent to destroy, and where fruits and flowers shall never fade and droop, nor drop and die. As an inheritance ^ but then an inheritance that is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, the inheritance of the saints in lighL As a kingdom ,• whose immunities, felicities, and glories are splendid and vast, perma- nent and real, quite overwhelming indeed to our present feeble imaginings. As a cuiintry ,■ over whose wide regions vre shall traverse in all the might of our untried faculties, and in all the glow of new and heaven-born energies, discover- ing and gathering fresh harvests of intel- ligence, satisfaction, and delight. As a c/Vy ,• whose walls are burnished gold, whose pavement is jasper, sardonyx, and onyx ; through which flows the river of life ; the inhabitants of which hunger no more, thirst no more, sicken no more, weep no more, die no more : a city, where there is no need of the sun by day, in which there is no night at all, and of which the Lord God Almighty is the light, and the Lamb the glory. As a palace; where dwells the Lord our right- eousness, the King in his beauty dis- played— his beauty of holiest love ; in the eternal sunshine of whose countenance bask and exult the host that worship at his feet. As a building ; that has God for its maker, immortality for its walls, and eternity for its day. As a sanctuary ; where the thrice-holy divinity, enshrined in our own nature in the person of Im- manuel, is worshipped and adored, with- out a sigh, witho-at an imperfection, and without intermission ; where hymns of praise, hallelujahs of salvation, and ho- sannahs of redemption, uttered by blest voices without number, ever sound before the throne. As a tenipk ,- hright with the divine glory, filled with the divine pre- sence, streaming with divine beauty, and peopled with shining monuments of divine goodness, mercy, and grace. In further contemplating the celestial blessedness of believers, let us very briefly notice, 1. TTie perfection of character they shall exhibit in heaven.'— We shall then, indeed, partake of God's nature ; be holy as he is holy, awake up with his likeness, and so be fully satisfied. It is impossible for sin or sinners to enter there. All that is above is holy, all that are above are holy. The throne is holy ; the temple is holy; the services are holy ; the songs are holy; the inhabitants are holy. There is no imperfection above. In one sense Chris- tians are perfect now, and here they are perfect in kind; but which of all them is there that does not lament his shert-com- ings, his errors, that does not feel himself surrounded with manifold infirmities. God's salvation now experienced is a salvation from sin, so that it has not do- minion over us. We now have fellow- ship with the Father and the Son, and therefore walk in the light; and, if faith- ful to the grace, and light, and means, that are imparted, sin nort. But still there are many frailties in us, many things in our character, which are positive im- perfections ; there is much that God has to pity ; but in heaven there shall be no- thing which God will have to pity ; on the contrary, he will admire us — feel perfect complacency and satisfaction in us. We shall be free frcftn wrinkles and spots; have no fadings, or faintings, or blem- ishes, but shall be without any such thing. In heaven are the spirits of just men made perfect. On ea.rth' how oft we have to lament the wanderings of our mind, the irregular emotions of our physical frame, the faintness of our desires, the coldness of our lore. Ohi the thought, that I shall " attain," — that I shall " be perfect," — that there will be nothing in rae unwor- 356 THE BRITISH PULPIT. thy to my God, or unlike my Redeemer, or unsuited to the pavilions of immortal beauty and glory ! " Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out; and I will write upon him my new name." 2. The exercises in which ihey shall he engaged. — Ease, it is commonly thought, is necessary to repose — to complete and uninterrupted repose ; and heaven itself is imagined by many to be a scene of inac- tivity, a region of utter quiescency. But analogy and revelation are against this sentiment. Ease is not real happiness, it is not even an ingredient in happiness. This kind of heaven — one thus charac- terized and composed — would be death rather than life ; it would be exemption from pain rather than positive bliss. An- gels, those natives of heaven, those mi- nisters of God's presence, not only know but do his pleasure. And are we not taught to pray that our divine Father's will may be done on earth, even as angels do it in heaven 1 The Scriptures have every where spoken of the einployments, as well as of the happiness of heaven, in the most exalted terms. Let us not for- get that to act in the service of God, and to communicate good to others, consti- tutes, according to the Scriptures, one vast and glorious division of celestial blessedness. Both of what we are to be, and what we are to do, many things are said of a highly interesting nature ; and from these, when we compare them with diligence and attention, a great multitude of other things, deeply interesting, may be derived by irresistible inference. For instance; those who obtain immortal life are said, by our Saviour, to be equal or like to angels. This one declaration opens to us a wide field of inquiry and conclusion ; and assures us, that whatever angels are or do, or are exhibited as being or doing in the Scriptures, we also shall substantially be or do. But the things which angels do, together with their at- tributes and circumstances, are, as exhi- bited to us in the Scriptures, very numer- ous and very great ; and these irresistibly infer others which are great and numer- ous also. The number and variety of events which make up our system, hardly strike our minds at all, and probably never enter the imagination of most men, even among Christians. Yet if we read the Scriptures with attention, and believe what we read, we must clearly discern that both the number and the variety are immense. The inhabitants of heaven serve God day and night in his temple. The services of those who in this life fill up their duty, are certainly very numer- ous; and are so entirely varied, that no two actions among them all are alike. How nmltiplied then must be the actions involved in a service which night never interrupts; of a mind and a body which are never wearied, and of an existence which knows no end ! That they are endlessly varied is unanswerably evident from the consideration, that no two beings in the creation, and no two events in the providence of God have been found ex- actly alike. Variety is a standing law of created existence and providential dispen- sation, and throughout eternity will be the great means of disclosing to the intel- ligent universe the glorious thoughts and purposes treasured up from everlasting in the omniscient mind. Instead, therefore, of being a tame, dull, monotonous, spirit- less existence, immortal life is a state of intense energy, vast design, and vigorous action, in which to know and to love, to do and to enjoy, will form a combination of dignity, glory, and happiness, trans- cending every earthly conception. All this, also, will expand, and rise, and im- prove for ever. This view may tend to moderate the surprise and the sorrow, that seize and possess the common mind at the early deaths of eminent Christians, and zealous, and laborious, and gifted, and successful young ministers. They are snatched away from the most active and important services, and we are apt to think that they are gone into darkness and silence, and have sunk into torpor and inactivity : but could we trace their flight, and dis- cern the lofty, and energetic, and valuable exercises in which their freed spirits are now occupied in some of the bright fields of eternity, the wide regions of their Maker's universe, and their Redeemer's heaven, our wonder at their departure THE CHRISTIAN'S DUTY, 357 hence (even when at their best estate, or in the very efflorescence of all their youth- ful ardour) would moderate ; and our grief, free from the l)itterness of dissatis- faction, would flow on in a current less deep and powerful. O they are not lost, though their sun has gone down while it is yet day. They have but set, to our apprehension, indeed, prematurely, be- neath our horizon, to rise again bright planets in the hemisphere of celestial glory. 3. The happiness nf which ihey shall par- ticipate.— All the religious experience of earth affords but a faint emblem of the bliss of heaven. The delight that Chris- tians now experience kindles into rapture at thought of the richer delight that awaits them above. Among the chil- dren of God in heaven (all happy) the degree of happiness may vary ; for it de- pends upon the capacity of enjoyment possessed by each, and this again upon improvement of character, and of talent, and of trust, and therefore they who have prepared most for heaven, will be most happy in heaven. Saints in heaven are perfectly happy, because perfectly holy. Here they taste of the streams that flow from the infinite fulness of their Father and their God ; there they will have come to the fountain itself. Here they receive, now and then, a bunch of grapes from the better Canaan ; there they will have full and free access to the tree of life that is in the paradise of God. Here they obtain an occasional glimpse through the entan- glement of the wilderness, and through the mists and fogs that hang over Jordan, and see the green fields, and the golden harvests, that wave luxuriant and vast on the otiier side; there they will possess the vineyards and well-springs of a perpetual Canaan. Here they are sometimes re- vived by sweet odours, wafted over from the mountains of spices that lie on the other side the lions' dens and leopards, haunts, among which they at present pass ; there, every peril is past, and hav- ing entered through the gates into the city, all is peace, triumph, and perfection. Here they have many a troubled, many a stormy, and many a cloudy day ; there they shall have everlasting joy and glad- ness on their heads ; and sorrow and sigh- ing, and clouds and shadows, and storms and tempests, having for ever fled away, they shall abide under a cloudless sky, in regions of eternal bliss. In this land of their captivity they may hang their harps upon the willows, and, yielding to the sorrows which fill their hearts, forget to sing the Lord's song; but in that land of accomplished promise and finished hope, their harps shall be ever in their hands, and the high praises of God in their mouths, to fill with their transports of gratitude and joy the palace of their king and their God. If every step here is through a vale of tears, there it is through a land of pure delight. In the house of their Father above, they shall hunger no more, nor thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light upon them, nor any heat. And if any recollection of former suffer- ings remain, it will serve only to enhance their enjoyments, and augment their won- der, as they view the intricate mazes through which divine wisdom conducted them. Our happiness will be made com- plete by beholding the brightness of the Father's glory, in the vision of which we shall rejoice with joy unspeakable; by the presence of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ! Yes, there we shall see Jesus — shall behold the God-man, our Friend, our Priest, our Sacrifice, our All. Then we shall love in return for all his infinite love; and bless and worship him with a growing adoration, and dilating gratitude, for ever and ever. It will, in- deed, be heaven to see our Jesus' face ! O the infinitude of our bliss ! when we shall see Him as He is, and love with a passion like his ! O that exquisiteness of joy ! — those gusts of pure perennial bliss, which the saints of God will experience, in sing- ing praises and songs of deliverance to God and the Lamb for ever ! 0 what rapture to be engaged in penetrating the mysteries of Providence ; in listening to the music of the spheres, and the jubilee of the universe ! in gazing with untold ecstasy on the face of God and the Lamb, and deriving from him, who is the sea of light and love, fulness of joy, and plea- sures for evermore ! " But eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it 358 THE BRITISH FULPIT. entereJ inio tlie heart of man to conceive, ; II. The concoct enjoined in relation what God hath laid up for them that love to these things. We are told by the him." 4. The friendships tve shall share there. apostle that we should seek them. 1. This implies or supposes belief of -Man is constituted to be happy in so- , them. — Let us attend for a moment to the ciety. Place him in solitude, and how- evidence that proves the actual existence ever exciting and felicitous are his circum- stances in other respects, he will wither and pine away. But above, we shall be with the many that shall come from the east, and west, and north, and south, and shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The entire heaven of angels, and the whole host of the redeemed, we shall of a future state. Those who have just conceptions of the perfections of God, will admit the possibility of it. He who gives us existence on this side the grave, can give it on the other side. He who has bestowed life in time, can impart it through all coming eternity. Numerous considerations indicate a have sweet and improving fellowship ' high degree of probability concerning a with for ever ! The wise and the good, the great and the pure, the benevolent and active from every region, will be our com- panions and associates, with whom we shall live, and love, and know, and obey, through one eternally enduring day. Of all the afflictions to which we are liable, there is none so painful as the death of our friends. And, oh T what a consoling balm is the doctrine that we shall, in the realms above, be restored to their fellow- ship. This doctrine is involved in many passages of Scripture : in the account of the last judgment — ^in the language of David on occasion of the death of his in- fant child by Bathsheba — in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus — in the con- solation which our Saviour gives to the penitent sinner on the cross — in the as- surance administered by the apostle St. Paul to the Thessalonian believers, that they should be his joy and crown of re- joicing in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming — and in the same apostle forbidding them to sorrow for such as had fallen asleep as though they had no hope of being united with them, and of being together with the Lord — and in the general use which the sacred wri- ters make of the word sleep for death — a simile which would be flagrantly incor- rect if our recollections, our friendships future state. Every man has a power of thinking and willing, of desiring and ab- horring; feels that he possesses within himself a soul, (deathless life,) an active, conscious, immaterial principle or nature. And though this has its present residence in the body, it is perfectly distinct and essentially different from the clay taber- nacle in which it is enshrined, and which is essential to its manifestation in the present life, and therefore its existence will not be involved or implicated in the fall of its tabernacle, any more than a sun beam is crushed by the fall of an old house through which it is passing. The strong desire of immortality, too, is an argument for it. Why should God uni- versally implant a desire he never meant to gratify 1 This desire shows design. The present mode of divine government indicates the same. The justice and wis- dom of the Governor are covered with dark and impenetrable clouds, if the his- tory of man is merely confined to the present world, and closes altogether with time; for vile men here are often exalted, and holy men are depressed. One event often befalls opposite characters. The common consent of mankind is in favour of it. Some kind of belief in a future state, and in some sort of future happi- ness, is very general. Even in the na- and affections, were not renewed in a fu- ' tural uninformed mind, there are strong ture state. And, in general, the same j anticipations of futurity. And the idea doctrine is taught also through the whole of the savage, that after death he goes to book of the Revelation of St. John. Hap- some green and blooming island across py prospect, that exalts friendship into : the deep, to dwell with the Great Spirit, religion I What blest society there will i appears to us to be the remains of the in- be above J I tuitive impression originally stamped on THE CHRISTIAN'S DUTY. 859 the hnmnn mind, as an evidence of its immortality. But M-liy do I say that a future state of bliss is possible ? Why do T dwell on its probability? We are not led to this conclusion as a mere matter of reasoning; as an affair of analogy; as a thing to be inferred : I take up my Bible and say, — there is positive certainty of it, — a certainty, drawn, not from the fair operations of reason, but from the sure, and strong, and steady lights of revela- tion. The testimony of God in his word clears away every doubt concerning it, and opens to us the realities of that eter- nal kingdom in which he reigns. The Scriptures amply unfold the doctrine of immortality, and show us the throne and judgment-seat of the Eternal; they dis- close to us, with awakening and irresisti- ble emphasis and clearness, the mansions of the blessed, and their dread alternative, the prison of the wicked. See this reve- lation in the Old Testament. Enoch was translated, that he should not see death, and was not found, for God took him. The Hebrew patriarchs desired a better country. The patriarch of Uz knew that in his flesh he should see God. Moses had respect to the recompense of the re- ward. David believed he should see God's face in righteousness, awake up in his likeness, and be satisfied. Daniel declares that they that sleep in the dust shall awake and come forth. Isaiah an- nounces the jubilee of the dead — the morning of their manumission : " Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust." And another Old Testament oracle tri- umphantly proclaims that " Death is swal- lowed up ia victory." But the N to Tes- tament abounds in this class of evidence. There, life and immortality are brought to meridian light, and stand confessed most vividly before us. There, indeed, from beginning to end, God hath promised eternal life. Matt. v. 8, Luke xii. 32. Matt. XXV. There are things above, then : to seek them, suppose that you have a belief of them ; that you doubt not their existence, their reality, their cer- tainty. 2. It implies that attentiun should be much directed towards them. They must be miiided, as well as believed. The fact of the vast importance of tl ese things might lead to the conclusion, that the duty here enjoined is not likely to be forgotten or neglected. We might imagine that all that was necessary on this subject, is just to convince of the importance of these things, and then leave the .mind to its own natural sense of what is due to its interests, in order to secure the proper line of conduct towards the things thus exhibited. But how different all this is from what we know to be the fact. When we call to recollection the earthly bias which men have taken, and the downward tendency by which they are, since the fall, characterized, it is proper to remind them of the necessity of the course which the apostle calls "looking at the things which are not seen and eternal ; seeking the things that are above." You may be exposed to the secularities of life, and unless you indulge and cultivate the up- ward tendency so emphatically expressed in the text, they will fix you down to the low level of earthly and ever)'^-day exist- ence. You must attend to the leading course of thought and inclination, by which your mind is characterized. The thoughts must be turned in this lofty di- rection : — I say thoughts, for it must not be a thought about heaven now and then merely, with long and frightful intervals between, but toward the things above the attention must be much directed. We must feel that religion is the one main and essential article in the great business of life, for although there is a time for every thing, you are not to exclude religion from its pre-eminence; you are not to confine it, as a sacred and hidden mystery, but to be seen and meditated at certain occa- sional periods, but rather to diffuse it as a colouring through all the substance of life. Thus the patriarchs sought the things above, — of whose piety it is the highest eulogy to say, that "they de- clared plainly that they sought a better country," — so fixed was their attention to sacred and heavenly things. Then let us thus seek them ; by a constant and instan- taneous religion seek the things that are above. To seek them must signify also that we are to, 3. Set our attachment upon them. Set 360 THE BRITISH PULPIT. your affections nn tilings above, it is added in the verse after the text. The import of this exhortation is, that we are to ad- mire and love them, as w^ell as believe and contemplate them. It may be ob- jected to this view, that the regard which we are now directing to be paid to things future, is inconsistent with the attention which is due to the interests of the pre- sent life. It is, however, certain, that Christianity enjoins no opposing duties, prescribes no incompatible precepts. Whilst we are commanded to render to God the things that are God's, we are at the same time charged to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's. Whilst we are directed to be fervent in spirit serving the Lord, we are instructed also to be diligent in business. Can it be thought that he who is passing through a wilder- ness, in a state of banishment from the scenes and fellowships which he holds most dear, should not often think with emotion of the delights, and securities, and sweet societies of a permanent and congenial home 1 The history of the Jews, when in Baby- lon, is an illustration of the conduct en- joined in the text. Did they, whilst living in Babylon, surrounded with its absorbing bustle, and engaged in its ac- tive business, forget the land of Israel, and disregard it in their hearts? No; their recollection of it was most vivid and affectionate, deep and practical, ardent and constant; and is described in lan- guage beautiful, fervid, and impressive. Hear theiraffecting complaint,Ps.cxxxvii. ^^ By the rivers of Babylon there we sat down ; yea, we wept when ive remembered Zion ; we hanged our harps upon the wil- lows.''^ One of these captives is repre- sented as expressing himself in the fol- lowing words ; " If I forget thee, oh Jeru- salem, let my right hand forget her cun- ning ; if I do not speak well of thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ; if I prefer not Jerusalem to my chiff joy /" Their hearts, then, were in Jerusalem, though they sojourned in Babylon. The dust and stones of Jerusalem, and the rubbish of its temple and its towers, was dearer to them than all the magnifi- cence and splendour of the greatest capi- tal of the then greatest empire in the world. So should we feel and act in reference to the Jerusalem that is above ; the new, the heavenly Jerusalem. To the true be- liever this world is a desert, dry and bar- ren ; and though there may be here and there a spot which seems to present invit- ing verdure, and to court his stay, he lingers not, but presses on, for he feels it is not his rest, because it is polluted ; and he casts a solicitous look beyond its bar- ren sands, to the land of promise, where are his home, his treasure, and his heart. And his greatest burden of grief is, that the current of his affections should ever be interrupted, or that their fervour should be repressed, for a single moment, by the trifles and vanities of the passing scene. Thus having his heart in heaven, his feet are ever moving thither ; for when acting and enduring under the impression and expectation of heaven and heavenly things, his step is firm in the road that leads to things above. And when the affections are not only lifted up to, but set upon them, neither the length, nor the toil, nor the difficulty of the way can greatly impede the progress thither. 4. Diligent and persevering exertions, in order to obtain them ; belief of the things that are above awakens attention to them ; attention to those things gives rise to de- sires after the possession of them ; and these desires, in their turn, give birth to exertions, in order to secure the attain- ment and possession of them. He who knows what the workings of affection to- wards any object are, knows well that his exertions to secure and attain it are just in proportion to the affection and desire with which he regards it. Now all that we require in religion is, that you act consistently ; that you regard the things proposed to you with an atten- tion corresponding to their suitability and importance ; and that you exert yourselves to attain them, with an ardour, and an as- siduity, and a perseverance, proportionate to their desirableness and value. Seeking the things above, then, must imply the use of those means which are prescribed in Scripture, and the observance of those ordinances which have been instituted by THE CHRISTIAN'S DUTY. 361 our Lord and Master, as helps on the way to heaven. And what are the means whereby we are to hold fast, and hold out, and hold on, till we obtain them] I answer, faith and prayer, accompanied by the reading' of the word of God, and a devout meditation thereon, together with a diligent and earnest attention to the in- stitutions of grace and the ordinances of religion. These are the means, the con- scientious, diligent, and persevering use of which, followed and crowned with the blessing of God, will lead you through the low vale of humble love, to the para- dise that is unfading and eternal. Yes, it is by faith only that we can walk in the way of life and peace — the road that leads to heaven and God. The shield of faith is that alone whereby we are able to quench the fiery darts of the wicked one and to overcome the world. Its influence alone can sanctify the character and purify the heart, and give substance and evidence to things not seen and eternal — the things that are above. And it is only by prayer that faith can be kept alive and active, and become omnipotent, as it was with Moses ; to whom what Aaron and Hur were, (hold- ing up his hands when Israel fought against Amalek,) prayer is to faith. And the ordinances of religion stretch the arms of faith and fan the breath of prayer, and feed and inflame our desires and longings after the heavenly worship. It is in them that our characters receive their best im- pressions— their holiest influence. Faith will lead you to the ground of all your hope, the spring of all your joys ; and prayer, in union with faith, will bring Christ down from heaven to be your staff of dependence and your rod of defence ; for of yourselves you can do nothing. Faith will lead you to feed on the bread of God — the manna from above ; and prayer will draw around you the atmo- sphere of heaven, out of which you will derive those influences of grace that shall strengthen and comfort you for the rest of the way. You may have to pass through tribulation, yea through much tribula- tion ; but it is the way to the kingdom. The farther you advance on the road, the humbler will you become ; and the nearer you come to heaven, the more Vol. I 46 lively will be your apprehensions of the necessity of holiness, and the more strenu- ous and constant your pursuit of it: — " Not counting myself to have appre- hended, this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reach- ing forth unto those things which are be- fore, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." III. Some motives or considerations WHICH SHOULD IMPEL US TO THIS CONDUCT, especially those which lie in the neigh- bourhood of the text. Be persuaded to it, 1. From a regard to consistency of con- duct.— Consistency is that agreement that every part of a man's conduct should have to the character which he sustains and the profession that he makes. Sometimes it may be diflicult to be consistent; but generally, from the very harmony that the part we have to perform has with our character and principles, there is a plea- sure and satisfaction in its performance ; for it holds true, that what symmetry is to the bodily frame, that consistency is to the moral character of an individual. And, whether from some original fitness in the nature of the things themselves, or from some arbitrary associations that take place in the mind, that which is consistent is not hard to be discovered. Even in the representation of ideal character this is studied and attended to ; and whenever the laws of association are violently sev- ered and broken, the effect is painful and disappointing. Fiction pleases, only so far as it corresponds with real character. Without this consistency there could be no uniformity in the human character; all would be unnatural, disjointed, harsh, in- jurious, unlovely ; one great moral chaos ; a sea of things mischievous, monstrous, and offensive. Soldiers running away in battle ; judges violating those laws which tliey were sworn to maintain and defend ; a man, distinguished by wisdom and pru- dence, erudition and sagacity, giving himself up to the most ridiculous, and absurd, and degrading follies ; a man bowed down with a multitude of years and their accumulated infirmities, em- barking in the most extensive, laborious, and speculative enterprises of worldly 2H 362 THE BRITISH PULPIT. business, are all inconsistencies — they are palpable and monstrous incongrui- ties. And can it be thought less inconsistent in a disciple of Christ and a child of God, to be eagerly grasping after the vanities and fortunes of earth, at the same time that his heart, and his home, and his trea- sure are professedly in heaven 1 Thus, in religious character, there is a consist- ency which is imperative, beautiful, and advantageous. No doubt Christians have many other motives to holy conduct, be- sides that which arises from the desire and the obligation to maintain the con- sistency of their character ; but they do not overlook the all-compelling argument in favour of such conduct, which grows out of their new state and character. " If," says the apostle, "ye be risen with Christ, seek," &c. " You who were dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, hath God quickened together with Christ. If then," he argues with irresistible point and force, if ye be thus changed, and " are risen with Christ, see/i," &c. The distinction between their present and their former state is not a dis- tinction without a difference, but a dis- tinction so great as to be set forth in the Scriptures under images and illustrations of the most decisive and striking nature : they are turned from darkness to light — they have passed from death unto life — they have gone forth out of the pit, and emerged from the dungeon — they are created anew, and born again — in short, " they who were dead in sins, are quick- ened together, and are risen with Christ," From so great a difference of state, it is expected that the greatest difference of conduct should follow. Every view of the Christian's character given us in the Scriptures, shows us the importance and necessity of consistency of conduct. Is he set forth as running a race 1 then his eve must be upon the prize, and he must press towards the mark of it with all pos- sible diligence and earnestness. Is he held up as a combatant 1 then he is never to be without his arms, never to sleep upon his post, or to relax in his energies, until all the field is won, and proclaimed won. Is he a citizen ] then he is to che- rish a sense of the advantages, privileges, and immunities of his high destiny, and to walk Avorthy of his exalted avocation. Is he a member of one vast and holy family ] then he must adhere to the prin- ciple that animates and actuates the whole, or he will interrupt and disturb its harmony and perfection. Is he in Christ ? then he must abide in him, and so bring forth much fruit, that his God and Father may be glorified. In short, is he a child of God, and an heir of glory ; is he risen with Christ ] then he must seek the things that are above, where Christ sitteth. What should we think of him that is heir to a great monarchy, collecting and arraying himself in the rags and tatters of a pauper? and yet such conduct would not be as inconsistent as ours is, if we prefer earth to heaven. We should con- sider it as an act of meanness, in one pos- sessed of unbounded affluence, to be col- lecting every straw, and gathering all the refuse that he could find 1 and yet such conduct would not be as inconsistent as ours, who profess to be risen with Christ, is, if we seek the things below, and not the things that are above. And is there any thing in the riches of earth that can for one moment be compared with the things that are above — the riches of a blissful eternity 1 Is there an}' thing in the honours of this life that can for a sin- gle instant be put in competition with that glory which is to be revealed in the saints'? Is there anj' thing in the plea- sures of time that can be balanced with the joys that are at God's right hand — the pleasures in his presence for ever- more ] Seeing, then, that you look for such things, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversa- tion ! 2. On account of Ihe reasonahlenesa of the duty itself, I would enforce it upon you. And let me ask, can there be any thing more reasonable than that, among the multiplicity of things which press upon and court our attention, we should seek those that are most excellent and most enduring? The things that are below — the riches, the pleasures, the honours, the business, the bustle, and whatever else THE CHRISTIAN'S DUTY. 363 this short enduring world can give — all earthly things arc gross and unsatisfac- tory, hollow and vain, blighted and mil- dewed, and cannot constitute the felicity of man, being neither suited to the spi- ritual nature nor to the immortal duration of our souls ; they can neither satisfy us while we live, nor preserve us from death, nor accompany us into the other world, nor contribute any thing to our happiness there. And if they can do nothing to- wards our real and appropriate felicity, wliy should we so eagerly seek them ; why set our hearts upon them 1 They that seek for happiness in earthlythings are like the women sitting over our Saviour's sepulchre, with their faces bowed down to the earth ; they seek the living among the dead : our happiness is not here, it is risen, it is above. Let our hearts ascend thither, where our happiness and our treasure are. If the things among which we grovel for the food and light of our imperishable nature, had a mouth and a tongue, and could speak to us, they would say, " Why look ye so earnestly on us," as though we could satisfy your immortal cravings. Are we in God's stead — in Christ's place — in heaven's room. Look not on vs, — we are but things seen and temporal. As well might the chemist look for the philosopher's stone among the dust of the streets, or hope to elabo- rate the elixir vitae from the polluted wa- ter of a stagnant lake, as we expect to find among the things below the bliss of our undying spirits. God never put it into them: and nothing can be to us more than God intended it. In our pursuit of the things of this world as our chief good, we are following after vanity, hunting a shadow, pursuing a fallacy. And why should we bestow our thoughts, our de- sires, our longings and affections, upon these unreal and fallacious, low and mean things, when tliere are incomparably bet- ter objects to fix them upon 1 Besides, the unreasonableness of seek- ing things beneath will appear still more from their shortness and transitoriness. The fashion of this world passeth away, but the things v the hea- then for thine inheritance, an 1 the utter- most parts of the earth for t'ly posses- sion." Hostilities against his empire are supposed and denounced ; a rule of mdgment, as well as of mercy, is in- 'jiluded in his reign ; and mon irchs are required to pay homage to his sceptre. It were absurd to imagine th\t this mag- nificent language could be li nited to the affairs and the throne of David, to either Ills difficulties or his victories. An allu- sion to these may be fairly ad nitted ; and •hey are introduced to conduc the believ- mof Jew, under the propheti^. J spirit, to " better things than these." To David's troubles or his triumphs — to his enemies or his subjects — to his person or his office — all the parts of this Scripture cannot apply ; nor could they to any mere human sovereignty. But an interpretation which would be absurd in the face of it, is ren- dered absolutely impossible to those who have any reverence for the authority of the Scriptures, or pay any respect to the apostolic exposition of them. We have been accustomed to consider the apostles as endowed with miraculous gifts for the infallible explanation of the Old Testa- ment ; and as partakers of the same spirit of prophecy ; to us, therefore, the com- mentary has equal claims to inspiration with the text. The as?embled and per- secuted disciples, in their memorable prayer, signalized by the accompanying visible symbols of the divine presence and approbation, applied the opening of this psalm to the united hostility of " Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gen- tiles and the people of Israel, against the Lord and against his Christ;" thus claim- ing for Jesus the Me"ssiahship, and ap- plying to the Messiah, and not to David, the prediction, in the very words in which it was uttered. Paul, quoting " the second psalm" by title, applies the words, "Thou art my Son ; this day have I be- gotten thee," expressly to Jesus, and refers the prediction to the glory of his resurrection; and the writer of the epistle to the Hebrews applies the same word^ to Jesus, as declaring the peculiar at: 1 mysterious nature of his filial relatio;-, and his superiority over angels and all created power. These representations are with us conclusive. We knov.- no- thing of those who interpret Scripture by rules of their own invention, or who balance its authority with their own reasons and imaginations ; with us it is either true or false, inspired or unin- spired, and we cleave to this principle with all its consequences. The text, so explained by the inspired writers them- selves, obviously relates to the final and future triumphs of the Messiah. These objects form the substance of his inter- cession. The work which was finished so far as it could be completed upor. 392 THE BRITISH PULPIT. earth, and was declared to be so from the cross, is carrying on in heaven, and is pleaded before the throne. It is the busi- ness of the Redeemer — the one great work in which he is engaged, and in which he will be occupied until all the .benefits of the salvation wliich he died to purchase, shall be secured according to the tenor of the covenant declared. This constitutes the basis of his mediatorial kingdom. " He must reign until all ene- mies are put under his feet." — " But now we see not yet all things put under him. But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death, covered with glory and honour." To his many crowns, must be added that of the regenerated world ; and then " cometh the end ;" when having subdued all oppo- sition, and "put down all rule, and all authority, and power ;" having completed the conquest of the universe, and accom- plished his mediatorial commission, he shall " deliver up the kingdom to God, even the Father. And when all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put all things under him," and shall mark it by this solemn and public surrender of this delegated sovereignty, no longer necessary to his ransomed and perfected church, and as from the beginning, even from everlasting, the triune Jehovah. " God shall be all in all," in whose pre- sence the redeemed shall find eternal joy — receiving ever new displays of his love, and ever admiring the glorious mys- teries of his ineffable nature. John foresaw the accomplishment of all those things, when the veil of futurity, and, in some instances, even that of eter- nity, was drawn aside before him. As though these concurrent declarations had been all too little to give due effect and sufficient assurance to .the grand design contemplated in the visions of the Al- mighty, he beheld him upon whose bosom he once leaned ; but so transformed, that all his faculties were overcome, and the splendour of the mount of transfiguration was but a faint shadow of the insufferable brightness of uncreated glory, in which the risen Redeemer then revealed himself to his beloved disciple. Amidst things hard to be understood, relative to the revolutions of empires and the eventful characters of the closing ages, one object was distinct, the most glorious of all, and to which all the mysterious machinery was subordinated — it was " the word of God," " clothed with a vesture dipped in blood," followed by "the armies of heaven," "smiting the nations with the sword of his mouth ;" for this is the wea- pon by which he achieves his victories, and wearing his triumphant name, befit- ting his universal empire, and his resist- less conquests; "written," now, to be read another day by the assembled uni- verse— " King of kings, and Lord of lords." I have now redeemed my pledge, to show you that your object to evangelize the world is founded upon the principles of revelation ; the grand truth which it as- sumes, and upon which it proceeds, being that to all nations the blessings of salva- tion are to be ultimately extended ; and this truth is held in view from its first to its last page, is represented as originating in eternity before all time, and as con- summated in eternity, when time shall cease to be. Here, in point of argument, upon the authority of inspiration, and on the part of those who believe it, the mis- sionary question rests, as to its object. 2. But we mentioned the claims of revelation, as bearing upon your efforts, in connexion with this unquestionable object. These must be scriptural also, both as to their extent and their means. Their extent may be measured by the principles already established ; and reve- lation claims for Christ, empire absolute, religious, universal — "I will give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy pos- session." The harp of prophecy has been struck from age to age ; its strains are too sweet and too elevated to be mistaken for mortal music. It has sounded louder and louder, and its notes have risen higher and higher, I until it has mingled with the chorus of heaven; and celestial lyres have been hushed to listen to its melody ; angelic spirits have desired to look into the mys- teries which it celebrated, and the glories which it foretold. Risingf amidst the mSSIONARY EFFORTS. 393 mountains of Judea, it reached Greecs and Rome, in broken and indistinct echoes ; and the strains of Isaiah were imitated by Virgil, who caught them through these imperfect reverberations. The subject of the prophetic song was always the triumphs of the Redeemer. We lay no stress upon particular inter- pretations of imagery employed by the prophets, whether the renewed face of the earth, and the subdued ferocity of beasts of prey, and the extinction of natural ani- mosities in the animal creation are to be considered as figurative or literal ; as re- lating to an actual transformation of the face of nature, or only to moral changes, or to both, as is not improbable ; for all was perfection once, and it is in the power of the Being who works, to restore them ; it is not for us to decide. We adhere to the obvious principle — the groans of the whole creation must be heard ; the pro- mises of God must be fulfilled ; the ruins of the fall must be repaired ; the Messiah must reign, and his empire is in the bo- som ; it controls the passions ; it is an empire of peace ; it thus distinguishes itself from the kingdoms of this world, founded often in violence, supported by cruel and desolating wars, and pouring through their hundred gates armies as destructive in their career as imposing in their external grandeur. It is clear that the spirit of the religious reign of Jesus is " glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to men." And when such is its spirit, and the moral influence corresponds, and all things shall be subor- dinated to it, it is easy to conceive, not merely that incalculable benefits shall re- sult to society, but that physical changes, unimaginable in the present state of things, will take place upon the face of nature itself, arising from this moral trans- formation. We will not, however, suffer ourselves to indulge in speculation, while we contend for the right of empire claimed by revelation for the Saviour. We enter into no calculations relative to times and to persoi^s, to the years which must revolve, before the latter day, already dawning upon us, shall reach its meridian, or as to which anti-christian powers must fall; and what changes must Vol. I.— 50 be effected before the end shall come ! With us, it is always time to obey an ex- press command, always time to labour, the time of duty is clear — "Secret things belong to the Lord our God." The place, the way, the measure, the end of our individual exertions, of our respective destinations, are all with him, and we cheerfully leave them there. We renounce again speculation to grasp certainty — " The glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together : for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." Such is the extent of scriptural claims for Christ, and from you it claims corres- ponding duties. It requires/flzVA in these promises, without which your principles will be unfixed, your perseverance uncer- tain, your labours uncheered, your sacri- fices unrewarded. The great part of the courage, zeal, and triumph of primitive Christians was disclosed by the apostle John. "This," said he, "is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith." It recommends prayer. Even Jesus is to ask — " Ask of me, and I will give thee the heathen for thine inherit- ance." Surely it becomes us to follow such an example, and to fill the sails of the vessels which bear our missionaries to foreign shores, with a spiritual gale of unfeigned supplication. " And this is the confidence that we have in him," said an inspired writer, " that if we ask any thing according to his will, he heareth us ; and if we know that he hear us, what- soever w'e ask, we know that we have the petitions that are desired of him." We cannot doubt that in praying for mis- sionary success, we ask according to his will, because we ask according to his promise. Jlctivity must blend with de- sire; for "the soul of the sluggard desir- eth, and hath nothing." This is a ser- vice which the young peculiarly may render to the cause of religion ; the heart may remain to age, but not the hand ; the love to the cause, but not the energy to aid it. " I write to you, young men, be- cause ye are strong," said one over whose head ninety winters had passed, chilling his blood, but unable to freeze his affec- tions. Employment of the prescribed means is called for. The wicked one is 394 THE BRITISH PULPIT. to be " consumed with the Spirit of the Lord's mouth, and destroyed with the brightness of his coming." Use no un- hallowed weapons, neither forte nor fraud, neither philosophical expediency, nor hu- man policy. You do not need them, for the cause rejects them. The weapons which have vanquished so many are pow- erful enough to subdue all — "and the weapons of our warfare are not carnal." Trust to the simple preaching of the gos- pel, in faith upon its author: scorners may laugh now, as they did in the days of the apostle, who said, " We preach Christ crucified, to the .Tews a stumbling- block, and to the Greeks foolishness; but to them that are saved, both Jews and Greeks, Christ, the wisdom of God, and the power of God." Personal devoted- ness to God is required at your hands, and will crown your work. He only who has learned the value of his own soul can justly appreciate the worth of the souls of others. He only who is in earnest for his own salvation can persuade others that he feels a real interest for the salva- tion of the human race. It is required by the divine law, that a man should love his neighbour as himself, but not more than himself. What opinion, then, can be formed of that man's sincere concern for the conversion of the heathen, who has never inquired after his own 1 His passions may be touched, but the mis- sionary cause relies only upon principles. These are its claims upon your efforts, and those the indisputable sanctions which the Scriptures afford your object; and here we could be content to rest the cause. But it wuU be necessary, n. To contrast these principles and claims with the infidel pretensions and objections of the day. Necessary, because these will meet you in every step of your Christian and benevolent career — will be urged upon you as oracles of wisdom, and as a new discovery of truth, as though the human mind had received a sudden illumination, and the intellectual and moral world were going to make a new experiment, of the success of which, from the fitness, beauty, and propriety of its principles, no reasonable doubt can be entertained, as though "they were the people, and wisdom must die with them," and all who venture to differ from their dogmas, to hesitate before they risk eter- nal interests upon bold speculations and unsupported hypothesis, or to suppose the possibility, and admit the existence of a written revelation of the divine will, were either fools in understanding, enthu- siasts by constitution, knaves by desi'^n, or, upon the most candid construction, narrow in their conceptions, illiberal in their opinions, irrational in their creed, and unphilosophical in their conclusions. Do not suffer yourselves to be moved by hard names, bitter W'ords, and scornful revilings. Do not mistake sophistry for reason, ridicule for argument, assert-ions for proof; nor be daunted by the bold as- sumptions, and the high tone arrogated by the opponents of revelation, and of your efforts as founded upon it. Bring the pretensions of both systems to the test ; let that test be plain matter of fact, and not doubtful disputation ; let the facts be deduced from all parts of the world, and from all ages of time; let them be exa- mined in their uniformity and consistency, and then it will be soon and easily seen and demonstrated who has effected most for the world, in point either of moral cul- ture, or of substantial happiness, the phi- losopher or the missionary. Challenge, then, their pretensions, and produce your own. They tell you of the sufficiency of natural religion, and of the deficiency of a written revelation. They tell you, that as all men must be supposed to be interested in a revelation of the divine will, if it be conceded to exist, (and this is at least an admission of tlie consistency of missionary efforts with the belief of such a revelation,) it ought to have been written with a sunbeam upon all lands, or inscribed on the face of the orb of light himself, that he might daily present it to all nations in his unwearied journey. Upon their own showing, that which is demanded has been done, and (to give them all the advantage of the argument) has been done by natural reli- gion, and not as yet by revelation. If, as they assume, natural religion is a suffi- cient revelation, and no other is necessary, MISSIONARY EFFORTS. 395 it has been written with a sunbeam upon all lands; it has been inscribed from the beginning of the creation upon the face of the glorious orb of day. What is the result 1 What has natural religion effect- ed in any, in every age"? in an}', in every country] "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth forth liis handj'-work ;" but " the world by wisdom knew not God ;" they "wor- shipped and served the creature more than the Creator ;" they fell down to the hosts of heaven ; or " changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like unto corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things." Now call for natural religion, and she shall answer you from the depths of the forest and the summits of the moun- tains ; from the sea, and from the shore ; from the crowded city, and the unculti- vated desert; from the hut of the savage, and the dome of the monarch : every where her altars are planted, and her wor- ship maintained. Her influence and her footsteps may be traced on the face of the whole earth, in barbarous rites, revolt- ing superstitions, and disgusting obsceni- ties ; and in all the forms of idolatry, from the featherec' gods of the islands of the South-sea, to the misshapen logs of Africa, up to the three hundred and thirty- three thousand of deities of philosophical India. Would j'ou see her in her own person 1 Bid her come forth — she ap- pears " in garments rolled in blood :" " the battle of the warrior with confused noise" rages around her; children drop into the fires kindled to her honour; hu- man victims are slaughtered on the altars raised to her praise, or crushed beneath the ponderous car upon which she sits enthroned. Around her, dying cries and agonizing shrieks mingle with loud ac- clamations and frantic songs : her look withers the country, and depopulates the city. This is natural religion, not as she came from the hands of God, the witness of his eternal power and Godhead, but as she is deformed by the passions of men, and debased by their corruptions; not as " the image of the invisible Creator," but as the idol of the fallen and depraved creature. Yet this is natural religion, stained with gore, and foul with crimes - not depicted by fancy, but demonstrated by fact; by facts drawn from all climes and from all generations ; facts which even infidelity has not the effrontery to deny. But, reason was to have rectified these errors ; reason is another goddess of their idolatry ; reason was to sit supreme, en- shrined in the light of natural religion, the arbitress of human destinies. To her was intrusted the key of knowledge, to unlock and dispense the riches of the universe. She was to be the architect, rearing a structure of happiness and of virtue under which man should repose, and a temple of religion in which he should worship. She was to be the polar star upon which, fixing a steady eye, he might safely sail over the stormy sea of life, and find a port of rest at last. But the light of the star is obscured ; the plans of the architect are marred ; the key of knowledge is mislaid ; the arbitress of man's fate is dethroned. How is it she has lost her high prerogatives, and suf- fered her authority to be overthrown 1 She is more than dethroned — she is im- prisoned ; she not only no longer rules- she is the mere slave of the passions. How is it that she has fallen from her pin- nacle of glory ] She was beguiled by sense. " The invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without ex- cuse." But when men " became vain in their imaginations, their foolish heart was darkened ; and professing themselves to be wise, they became fools." But, conscience was to have prevented these disorders, and to have laid restraints upon the passions. Conscience was to have ruled as the vicegerent of heaven in the human bosom. Conscience was to have sat as judge upon human actions. Conscience was to have been a witness in all moral questions. Complicated and important was its office, to judge and to witness both, to accuse or excuse, to sentence or acquit, to restrain or to punish. Conscience was to be the senti- nel of the soul, keeping guard over the 396 THE BRITISH PULPIT imprisoned passions. But the judge was I corrupted on the bench, and the sentinel slept upon his post. Reason and con- science were either unequal to their charge, or unfaithful to their trust. We can account for these things on the prin- ciples of revelation : they are evils which infidelity is too proud to acknowledge, arising out of a doctrine which he detests. Man is a fallen, therefore a depraved crea- ture ; and the moral corruption extends over all the faculties of his soul, and has poisoned all the springs of his present being. Therefore his corrupt passions predominate over all his intellectual and moral powers, and hold the noble spirit in ignominious bondage. For this the gospel has provided an effectual remedy ; and this remedy you are sending by your missionaries to the ruined world. But infidelity denies the malady so far as pos- sible, and rejects the remedy altogether. He is indeed compelled to allow these moral irregularities. But, philosophy is to counteract them, and to restore the reign of natural religion, of reason, of conscience and of virtue. Were Greece and Rome, then, barbarian ? Were they ignorant of philosophy 1 or was the experiment not made? It was not in a desert, surrounded by savages, but in the centre of Athens, encircled by philosophers, that Paul stood amidst the monuments and upon a mount of idolatry, although a court, and the highest court of justice, evincing how closely allied the civil government was with their de- basing superstitions, and pointed to an altar inscribed, "To the unknown God." Such is the true character of every altar which reason and philosophy, and natural religion, unaided by revelation, have raised, although all do not bear the same inscription. These are the altars which your missionaries are hastening to over- throw, to plant the cross in their place, and to proclaim to the poor idolater, "whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare we unto you." And is it not to men like these, the mighty minds of departed ages, who sought after truth, but missed it, because they lacked the guid- ing ray of revelation ; is it not to men like these, that infidels of the present day ap- peal, acknowledging them as masters, and adopting their system ; men, who if they now lived, would be ashamed of their professed scholars 1 If among such men, natural religion, and reason, and conscience, and philosophy, all proved too unequal a guard against the passions of a corrupt nature, and to a guide abso- lutely insufficient through the mazes of ignorance to the throne of God ; if in such hands the grand experiment altogether failed, what further pretensions have the modern philosophers, the opposers of re- velation, and the deriders of missionary efforts, to advance? They will not dare to tell you that it has been denied either time or space : it has been made nearly six thousand years from the fall of man, to the very hour in which I am addressing you ; it has been made by the intellectual giants of the olden time, as well as by the infidel pigmies of the age in which we live. They will not dare to tell you, that the results have ever been different from those which we have stated. They will not dare to deny, that such is, at this mo- ment, the aggregate of the experiment now trying, among all states, whether savage or civilized, which revelation has not reached. I disdain to contrast the intel- lectual and moral influence of Christianity, wherever it extends, with the scenes of horror and degradation to which I have alluded ; but I demand of j'our infidel op- ponents to explain, if they can, by what fatality, or bj"^ what chance (and they shall choose their philosophical school in deciding the question) it occurs, that their efforts, to elevate the moral condi- tion of man, have never succeeded, and that those of Christianity have never failed ? You have examined their pretensions, and stated your own ; now let them pro- duce their strong reasons, and you shall fearlessly face the ohjections which they commonly bring against your object and your efforts. They tell you that ihe inorld ought not to he disturbed: that is, that the usurpa- tions of sin and of sorrow, which have been permitted during thousands of years, should be established by prescription, and that a revolted universe should never MISSIONARY EFFORTS. 397 be summonerl to return to the mercy and the sceptre of its lawful sovereign. Tell them that you are not the troublers of nations ; but that their contentions and wrongs arise from the lusts which they cherish, and which you are anxious to remove. Tell them that which may silence their apprehensions as to the issue. It is only to look at the world as it is; worse it cannot be made ; better it may be. But who can look at the world as it is, lying in v/ickedness, and broken with sorrow, without a relenting heart and a melting eye? without looking up to the Father of the family of man, and praying, "Thy kingdom come ; thy will be done on earth as it is heaven," and without calling into exercise all the exertions which the expressed desire demands ■? They tell you that your resources are inadequate ,• the means which you possess are not proportionate to the end which you contemplate. Reply to them, that you do not proceed upon human calcula- tions ; that this departure from the ordi- nary rule arises not from fanaticism, but because the rule does not apply to an ordi- nary subject; the cause is not your own, and the success is not your own ; that you use the means prescribed by him whose interests you labour to advance, and that you cheerfully leave the result with him. Show them that by these de- spised and confessedly disproportionate means the triumphs of Christianity have been hitherto secured ; and that what has been effected is a sufficient guarantee for whatever remains to be done. Your ex- ternal means are, indeed, limited; but your hidden resources are eternal and inexhaustible. They say that yours is the wild dream and the contemptible effort of fanaticism. Before they venture to pronounce upon your pretensions, they ought to blush for the practical defeat of their own in every age. Point them to the desolated temples of superstition and cruelty ; to tlie forsaken altars, where human blood flowed ; to the abolished and infamous rites of heathen worship, and tell them, that while philoso- phy denounced these, it could not remove them ; it could not stay the effusion of in- nocent blood, nor cleanse the polluted shrine, anj' more than change the heart of the worshipper. But Christianity has ef- fected this, and it has been done by the very means which they despise: that which they presumptuously called " the foolishness of preaching," has proved the power of God. The scorn and derision turn upon their own heads ; for " the foolishness of God is wiser than man ; and the weakness of God is stronger than man." They assert that our designs are sinister, our own efforts injurious. We have hea- ven and earth to refute the falsehood. Heaven, in the sanction which it has given to the efforts — earth in the benefit which it has received from them. To so foul a calumny it would be a degradation to make any other answer than to appeal to the principles which we inculcate, and to point to the effects which they produce. They require no defence — they speak for themselves. When, having exhausted all other ob- jections, they conclude that the iking is impossible, there are two clear answers to sucli an assumption. It is presumptuous, as it regards the Being whose work it is. It is, indeed, impossible with man; and their own vain labours sufficiently esta- blish it — but not with God; "for with God all things are possible." It is irra- tional; for Reason replies, that what has been done, may be done again ; and the history of the churcli in all ages, the state of our own country, nay, our own hopes and principles, establish the possibility of that moral change which Christianity effects upon human nature, and the cer- tainty of its success. Such are the ob- jections which the opponents of revelation usually bring against missionary objects and etforts, and you perceive of how small weight they are when laid in the balance of truth. III. And lastly, I detain you a few mo- ments longer to press upon your attention the peculiar obligations devolving upon the rising generation, and their incalcula- ble importance to missionary success. The application of these obvious princi- ples must be left to yourselves. All the obligations generally stated, are peculiarly pressed upon you. When the 2L 398 THE BRITISH PULPIT. prophetic eye of the psalmist beheld the expiring Saviour upon the cross, distiii- giiished the manner of his death, and its cruel circumstances, saw the soldiers di- viding his garments and casting lots for his vesture, heard the insulting taunts of the priests and of the multitude, and even his own dying complaint of desertion, he anticipated also the glorious results of this sacrifice, and the universal empire which should arise out of it. Then his eyes were turned upon the importance of the rising generation in connexion with the extension of his cause. As to the result, he said, "All the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto the Lord ; and all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before thee : for the kingdom is the Lord's, and he is the governor among the nations." As to the means, and the espe- cial influence of the young, he added, " A seed shall serve him ; it shall be accounted to the Lord for a generation. They shall come, and shall declare his righteousness unto a people that shall be born, that he hath done this." You possess advanfages superior to those who preceded you. " Other men laboured, and ye have entered into their labours." So said Jesus when he pointed out to his disciples fields white unto the harvest, which patriarchs had ploughed, prophets sowed, and martyrs watered with their blood. " I sent you to reap that upon "which ye bestowed no labour." This, my young friends, is your position ; and this is your advantage. If the toil de- volves upon you, so does the experience of those who went before you in this arduous enterprise. They sounded the alarm in the ears of a slumbering world : let the awakened nations now wait to receive your testimony. Besides which, when personal labours abroad cannot be rendered, your prosperity, your talents, your influence at home, may all be bene- ficially employed. The harvest of the world is ripe ; the ingathering belongs to you, and to those who shall follow you. The present generation has sown in tears, although not altogether so; the future generation shall reap with unmingled joy. There is peculiar beauty and fitness in your early consecration to the cause if rch- gion. You are now in the spring of your age, in the flower of your beauty ; devote yourselves to that Saviour, for it is he who calls; who clothed you with grace, and girded you with strength ; who gave symmetry to the frame, and intelligence to the understanding ; his hand fashioned you, his Spirit inspires you ; he died to raise the body which must soon decay to immortality; to renovate the faculties of the spirit which will become incumbered by the infirmities of its frail tabernacle, in a state fitted to their grandeur; to re- deem the soul from destruction, and to give expansion to all its intellectual grasp in eternity. Come, and dedicate the first- fruits of your existence to him, who will ripen it into everlasting glory. The voice rf nature sanctions the demands of religion. Your fathers are passing away — the sacred phalanx that once stood so firm is broken — the ranks that occu- pied the front of the battle are thinned — the fragment of a claj' remains alone to the veterans who yet keep the field. They called upon you to fill the vacant spaces ; upon you, noble youths, to be baptized for the dead ; upon you to receive the co- lours of the cross from their dying hand ; upon you to stand last amidst the shock of battle, while the trumpet that blows an onset for you, sounds the signal of retreat for them. Buckle on your armour, and take courage by their example, who die with their harness on, and when they fall, write, " I have conquered," upon their shield. It was thus that Paul the aged encouraged the youthful Timothy — "Watch thou in all things, endure afflic- tion, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of thy ministry. For I am now ready to be oflercd, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight; I have finished my course; I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day ; and not to me only, but to all them also that love his appear- ing." The hopes of the world are fxed upon you ; and the cries of hundreds of millions of immortal spirits poured in upon your MISSIONARY EFFORTS. 399 ear. Thesehopes arc cherished, and these cries are raised, with a confidence corres- ponding with the promise of your years. Age may be dull, and grow indolent; but youth is active, and cannot excuse itself from employment. Avarice is cruel, and is sometimes thought to be the vice of age ; but youth is generous, and for you to be covetous would be unnatural ; to be parsimonious in such a cause would be criminal. Spare nothing ; time, property, talent, influence, labour, prayer; bring all, and lay it upon the altar which " sancti- fieth both the gift and the giver;" and before which eventually " every knee shall bow." You must succeed. It is possible that discouragements will arise; it is certain that difficulties must be encountered ; it is probable that disappointments may be felt. Fear none of these things; you may be compelled to retreat; you can never be conquered. If the magnanimity of a senate could thank a vanquished general because he did not despair of his country — what cowardice is ours, fight- ing under the banner of a captain always victorious, if we should faint, because the battle waxes hot, or the advantage seems to balance for a moment between the con- tending hosts, or the campaign is pro- longed beyond our expectations. To the timid pilot who was afraid to launch into tlie deep at the bidding of Caesar, when a frightful tempest raged — " Fear nothing," said the hero, " you carry Cajsar and his fortunes." And you who are embarked in the missionary cause, carry in your vessel, not Jesus and his fortunes, for with hira nothing is contingent ; but .Tesus and his interests, interests so dear to him that he died to secure them ; and he who sails with you can rebuke the tempest, and instantly there shall he a great calm. Does the lapse of time ef- fect you 1 It is true, " one generation passeth away, and another generation Cometh." You are about to occupy the place of your fathers, and your children will hereafter occupy yours. Do the ravages of death appal yon 1 It is true, ministers and missionaries are not im mortal, but their cause is : its friends are like the foam of the billows which the tempests scatter ; but it resembles the eternal flow of the ocean, rolling its ful- ness upon the most distant shores. O ye heroic spirits, who have met death in all its forms ; by fire or the wave, by famine or the sword, by climate or oppression, from the beginning of the creation to this hour, — who have stood firm amidst all danger, undism.ayed by persecution, unterrified by your adver- saries,— spirits of martyred missiona- ries, who in all ages have suffered for the truth as it is in Jesus ; from right- eous Abel down to blameless Smith ; if ye could attend our call, we would summon you here to tell those young champions for the cause for which you expired, from what fountains ye drew your resources, and what rewards now recompense your labours. But it can- not be ; you rest from your toils, and even the cause of religion must not interrupt your repose. To thee, then, holy and eternal Spirit, by whom these were what they were, we appeal ; thou art ever present ; may a double por- tion of those influences by which thou didst honour them, rest upon those young and ardent minds, devoted in their re- spective stations, and in their day, to the same service, and upon the gene- rations that shall follow them, until all shall be consummated ; until the Sa- viour shall appear the second time, with- out a sin-offering, unto salvation ; and when he shall rise from his throne of judgment, the shouts of the mj^riads of the redeemed shall overpower the thun- ders which destroy the material universe. Amen. 400 THE BRITISH PULPIT. THE PULPIT GAIjIiSRIT, NO. XIII. THE REV. "WM. CENGO COLLYER, D. D. "I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause." COWPER. There are few men who have obtained a greater degree of celebrity, or who have exercised a more powerful influence upon others, than the Reverend Doctor Collyer. His name has always been able to attract a numerous congregation, and for a long series of years his labours have been de- servedly honoured by the Christian world. He is one of the few who have been able to withstand the seductions of popular applause, and to keep on the even tenor of his way, notwithstanding the flattery of friends. And few have been so much exposed to the temptation of vanity. Praised alike by the learned and igno- rant, by wealth and fashion, by royal and noble friends, it is a sure proof of his gemiine piety, that amidst such libations he has continued humble. With all sects of true Christians, the doctor appears to be on terms of cordiality and friendship. — The bishops and clergy of the Established Church, his own and other denominations, equally venerate his character, and applaud his published la- bours. The list of subscribers to his lectures proves his acquaintance with the religious, political, and literary world ; and names are found there which it is honourable to mention. This at least shows that his merit is sterling, that his piety is sincere, and that his works are valued. As an author, although he cannot claim the palm of originality, yet his researches — his various learning — his accumulation of interesting facts — his presenting old and familiar truths in a new and striking manner, entitle him to rank high as a theological writer. His style is remark- ably elegant and polished, and there is a rich vein of evangelical piety running through all his works. As a preacher, he is admired for the varied excellencies of his discourses. They are equally removed from vulgar cant and high flown mysticism. — His voice is soft and melodious, and his action re- markably elegant. The tender and pathe- tic are his forte. With a mind stored with classical learning, and a good memory, perfect self-possession, and a knowledge of Scrip- ture language, he illustrates his subjects with such an easiness of manner as to awaken curiosity and secure attention : neither art nor labour is visible in his pul- pit exercises. Like Jeremy Taylor, he does riot confine himself to a dry exposi- tion of a text, but ranges over all nature and art for new and striking images, and this is done without affectation, — so that the poorest and most illiterate can under- stand him, and the learned cannot be offended. Occasionally, he ascends to the dignity of argument and expostulation, and his language then becomes bold and animated, and his manner ardent and impassioned. — His eloquence is like that of the school which immediately succeeded the orations of Cicero, — correct, polished, elegant,— where, if there was little to offend the taste, there was still less to call for the vehement emotions of mighty passions, struggling to imbody in action the vari- ous duties which the orator enforced upon the people. Yet this may be imputed more to the taste of the age than to the fault of the preacher. The theology of the Doctor is drawn from the Bible ; and to that sacred source he on all occasions appeals for the truth of his statements. He does not, how- ever, despise the aid of learned men, but, where their sentiments are in unison with truth, he readily adopts them. This gives greater variety to his preaching. He is most at home when dwelling upon the consolations of religion ; here, indeed, his talents shine forth, and the poor and wounded in spirit are refreshed under his ministrations. When detailing the love of our Saviour, when he exhibits his suf- THE PULPIT GALLERY. 401 ferings and death to accomplish our sal- vation, he triumphs over the coldness of scepticism and unbelief, and warms the heart with pious emotion. The Doctor's life has been one of devo- tion to the cause of God and man : his great popularity as a public teacher has always kept in full exercise his pulpit talents, and the press bears testimony to his unwearied exertions to promote true religion. Besides his seven volumes of lectures, which contain many new and ingenious arguments in support of Chris- tianity— a vast storehouse of curious and interesting facts — he has published a great many single sermons, and other useful works, all tending to increase and multiply the disciples of Jesus. The following is a specimen of his style, from the last volume of his Lec- tures : he is speaking of the progress of the gospel. "The beginnings were mi- raculous, but the close shall be inconceiv- able. Who, that had seen the little band of brothers issuing from their upper cham- ber, in all the simplicity of their charac- ter, unarmed, unpatronized, could have imagined that the throne of the Caesars should feel their power, and veil its glory before them ; and that the stupendous structure of paganism, reared by philoso- phy, cemented by habit, and upon which state policy had built its power and au- thority, should vanish like a morning cloud as they advanced 1 Yet so it was, so went forth the word of salvation, as the day breaks — its first beam distirguishing itself, by its purity, from the lamp of reason and the torch of philosophy; but wherever it poured its meridian splendour, eclipsing all light in its surpassing ra- diance. So it grew as the mustard seed, 'which indeed is the smallest of all seeds;' but when its maturity shall have come, ' not the birds of the air,' but all nations of the earth shall find repose under its shadow. So it rose as the fountain rises, — a spring of liv- ing water gushing forth ; but now it is a ' river, the streams whereof make glad the city of our God ;' and in the fulness of time, its healing waters shall flow over all the kingdoms of the world. Its voice is more power- ful than the thunder, to w-hich science can easily point out the bounds as- signed ; and it is softer than the gale of the summer's evening : it would seem as though the universe were con- structed to convey its sound into all lands : it was whispered in the east, and rolled round to the west — it is re- peated in the west, and rolls back to the east. It is gentle as the spring shower, and as fructifying — ' the Milder- ness and the solitary place is glad because of it, and the desert rejoices and blossoms as the rose.' — It is all-embracing, vivify- ing, enlightening, supplying, controlling, as the sun ; but the sun has .his period, and ' shall sleep in the clouds forgetful of the voice of the morning.' But, we re- peat, what shall the end be "? It is all- glorious and eternal as the heaven to which it leads — where there is no night — for 'the Lord God and the Lamb are the light of it ;' where ' the nations of the redeemed shall walk ;' and they shall reign with the Redeemer for ever and ever. Amen." Vol. I.— 51 2l2 SERMON XLIV. THE FULNESS OF TIME. BY THE REV. ROBERT PHILIP, MABERLEY CHAPEL, KINGSLAND. "But when the fulness of tJie time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." —Gal. iv. 4, 5. You remember, and it is a very pleas- ing recollection, that the first promise of a Saviour was given under the very tree where our first parents sinned and fell. And, when you consider that four thousand years elapsed between the giving of the promise and its fu]filment,the question can hardly escape being asked, why was the promise so long being fulfilled 1 Why was Christ born at so late a period of the world 1 Why was Christianity not intro- duced sooner? Infidels have often said, with a sneer, '*If Christianity issovalu-, able, why was the world without it so long? Why were four thousand years allowed to pass away without its intro- duction?" Now, when you hear this objection started, you may say in reply, Christianity came thus late into the world, in order that infiJels might have no excuse for their unbelitf. The Son of God came no sooner, because men were not before qualified to examine his claims, or to judge of his pretensions. God delayed the blessing till the world was fitted, by its population, and by its general state, to receive Christianity. It will tend to illustrate this fact if we consider more particularly what we have just staled. Let us, therefore, I. Consider the wisdom and pro- priety OF DELAYING THE FULFILMENT OF THE PROMISE OF ChRIST UNTIL WHAT Paul here calls " the fulness of TIME." 403 He intimates that there was the same propriety in delaying this, as there is in not allowing a minor to possess the pro- perty of an heir. Now, I say, that the heir, as long as he is a child, differeth nothing from a servant, though he be lord of all ; but is under tutors and governors until the time appointed of the father. Even so we, when we were children, were in bondage under the elements of the world ; " but when the fulness of the lime was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to re- deem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." Intimating that at any earlier period it would have been as unwise to have sent his Son into the world, as to make any young man master of his own property till he came of age. Let us consider this subject. 1. At no period before ^^ the fulness of time''' would the incarnation of Christ have been so proper, all things considered. So far as it regarded the redemption of the soul by his blood, the coming of Christ could neither be too soon nor too late ; the blood of Christ would have been a sufficient atonement, whether shed at the beginning or at the end of the world. The virtue of that atonement depends on his divinity, and could not have less effi- cacy, be presented when it would. But considering the coming of Christ as a whole, taking into account his doctrines, THE FULNESS OF TIME. 403 his life, his miracles, and so on, it would have been untimely at an earlier period. It would have been untimelj', during the antediluvian age, or at the time of the flood ; because there was no man then liv- ing able to have written an account of it, or to have written so as to have interested all ages of the world. Even Noah could not have benefited mankind in this re- spect, as a writer. If he had written to suit us, it would not have benefited the men of his age; and if he had written so as to suit them, it would have been of no use to us. But by not appearing in the world till civilization eaid letters had spread to a very considerable extent, the facts were all carefully examined and recorded ; and the New Testament is made to stand out beyond all other writ- ings. The period from the Jlood to the time of Moses would not have been so suitable ; because then the world's population was comparatively small, and, for the most part, uncivilized. It would have been unwise to have sent the world's Saviour when there were but few to see him, and but few to appreciate him. We say, of a man of great genius, who resides in an obscure village, or immures himself in solitude, what a pity it is that he is placed in a situation where his talents are buried — where there are none to appreciate his excellencies ! And when we consider the sublime doctrines; the salutary precepts; the beneficial example ; the propitious miracles ; the whole life of the Son of God, we may well say, it would have been a pity they should have been given sooner, when they were intended to suit the whole population of the civilized world. The time from liloses to the Prophets ■would have been too soon. Then the Jews were not sufficiently familiar with the grounds of the great salvation. They understood them, indeed, but very imper- fectly at the time Christ came : how much more imperfectly would they have under- stood them when they were just come raw out of the bondage of Egypt, with all the associations which tlieir minds had formed in that land of gross idolatry. It was wise — it was kind, that Christ came not in those dark ages. 0, how would infidelity have scoffed and triumphed, if Christ had made his appearance then! Infidels would have said that he made his appearance purposely at a time when the world was peopled by barbarians — by weak, ignorant, credulous men ! His coming, therefore, was reserved for the great Augustan age. The period of four great monarchies would have been equally unfit for the coming of Christ. War was then so much the trade, and dominion, and rule, so much the passion of men, that the reli- gion of Christ would not have gained the public attention ; or, if it had, infidels would have said that Christianity was the invention of the Nimrods, the Nebu- chadnezzars, and other tyrants of the day ; — a mere political scheme to bring the people into their own power, and to suit the views of despotic governments. But to place the church beyond the reach of their shafts of ridicule and scorn, God delayed the coming of his Son to the chief period of peace, of civilization, of philosophy, that was ever known in this our world. And if you have not turned your atten- tion to this subject, and considered why four thousand years were suffered to pass away before the Saviour appeared, I would remind you that the people of God were not really losers by the delay. They had not the same degree of light that subsequent ages were blessed with; but they had the same unqualified pro- mise that whoever looked to the Lamb of God who was to be slain, should be saved. They were assured, that when the Messiah should come, he would make ample atonement for the sins which had been committed under the first covenant; and that all who believed should have the full benefit. And hence the apostle says, in the eighth chapter of his epistle to the Romans, what applies, not only fo tis, but more especially to those who had lived before his coming, the history of whose experience it may be said to re- cord : — " Whom he did foreknov/, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son. Moreover, whom he did predestinate, them he also called? 404 THE BRITISH PULPIT. and whom he called, them he also justi- fied ; and whom he justified, them he also glorified." Now, though this ap- plies to the state of believers in the pre- sent age, it is, in fact, the history of the conduct of God towards the ancient be- lievers. So that they were no losers by the delay of Christ's incarnation ; they were pardoned and renewed, and finally admitted into heaven, upon trust or sufferance. Hence the writer to the Hebrews intimates that Christ had to make atonement for the sins of the first covenant, that they might be ratified in the state into which they had entered, on the ground of faith in him who was to come in due time. 2. The Augustan age (the period in which Ceesar Augustus lived, known in history as the Augustan age) was empha- tically " the fulness of time ,•" and, of all periods, the best of time for introducing Christ and his system. 1st. The world was then prepared thoroughly to examine the claims of Christ. Both Jews and Gentiles were then qualified to detect an impostor, if Christ had been an impostor. They had POLITICAL motives to urge thsm to this. The Jews were under the Roman power, and had not another hope of deliverance but from their Messiah. He was as a star in their horizon ; and they were pre- pared with the greatest nicety to scruti- nize his claims. On the other hand, the Roman government was very jealous of losing any portion of its power; and they also would scrutinize the claims of Christ, till they saw clearly that his kingdom was '• not of this world." The literary character of that age also led them mi- nutely to scrutinize his claims. The celebrated philosopher, Cicero, had pre- viously introduced the system of argu- mentation which doubted and disputed all it met with ; and would admit nothing without proof. If Bolingbroke, and Vol- taire, and Hume, and Gibbon, had lived then, they could not have brought greater talent into the field than then existed. Christianity then threw down the gaunt- let, and boldly dared philosophy to inves- tigate her claims. "These things were not done in a corner." The claims of the i religion of Christ were submitted to the first scrutiny the world ever saw ; and it is passing strange, that the puny wits of our day should stagger the opinion of any man, when the brightest geniuses of which Roman philosophy could boast, were not able to shake the system they attacked ! The religious state of the world, also, enabled men to make such a scrutiny. If you read the Eclogues of Virgil, and ex- amine them with the prophecies of Isaiah before you, you will find the representa- tions of the poet to be almost verbatim with the language of the prophet. And the writers of that age were well able to do so : — for Ptolemy Philadelphus had been careful to secure translations of all the principal Hebrew writings ; and the learned were all able to have access to them. Hence the Jews so often cavilled about our Saviour; they saw so many marks of Messiahship in him, that they sometimes said, " Tell us who thou art;" — "If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly ;" — " Art thou the Christ, the Son of God 1" My brethren, these are not questions to be settled in the present century ; they were settled — completely settled, in the first centuries ; and though the enemies of Christianity had all their emperors and philosophers to put it down, they were not able to put it down for a moment ! O, let us not be robbed of our confidence, or startled by the objections and sarcasms of vain and foolish men. Paul has stated, in the text, that it was " the ful- ness of the time" when Christ appeared. The collision of systems, and of politi- cians, and disputants, have only rubbed the diadem into brightness; and we are not about to surrender its glories to any of the puny scoffers of our day ! 2d. The world was then fully able to ap- preciate the doctrines of Christ by comparison and by contrast. They might not be able to appreciate them spiritually ^ but they could do so by comparison and by con- trast. Infidelity says, why did not Christ come sooner? Had he come a century sooner, philosophy would have contended that she had entire empire over men. In the wisdom of God she was allowed to try her strength ; and she was at length compelled to hide her head in her owii THE FULNESS OF TIME. 405 shade, when Christ came, and said, "1 AM THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE." At the time Christ came, the doctrine of immortality was expunged from their creed, and the practice of suicide had be- come most popular. But though philoso- phy could blot tbe doctrine of immortality from the creed, it could not root its idea out of the human mind. Life was too dear, and the love of life was ton ardent, to be readily given up; and at the precise period when immortality was so longed for, and men were sick of the doctrine of annihilation, Christ came, and "brought life and immortality to light." This hope of the heart became one of the strongest motives to induce men to em- brace Christianity. At that period, too, the doctrine of sacrifices was fully under- stood. They had, indeed, began to de- cline in the Jewish temples, but they were taken up with eagerness by the heathen. At the time that Christ came, the doctrine of vicarious sacrifices was most popular, and the offering of those sacrifices at its highest pitch. The altars . of Jupiter blazed incessantly — but they blazed in vain : those who otfered them found that " the blood of bulls and of goats could not take away sin." And at the precise period when sacrificers became tired of their round of offerings, at the very moment when hope was about to give up the ghost, Christ came "to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself." Yes ; at this solemn crisis, when philoso- phy failed to teach men the way of hap- piness, and the sacrifices which had so long been confided in were about to be put away, then Christ came to teach men the way of life and salvation, and then was his blood shed to ransom men by thou- sands and by millions. 3. The Augustan age teas ike best for the revelation of Christ and his gospel, be- cause then the ivorld was prepared for the extension of Christianity. Had Christ come into our world sooner, Christianity f could not have been so well propagated. We know, from our own experience and observation, something of the truth of this. Our Bible and Missionary Socie- ties were not formed till our commerce *»ad linked this nation with all the nations of the world. And thus God did not send his gospel till the world was properly prepared for its reception and diffusion. Little did the Romans think, when they were forming their Appian ways, and opening their new roads, that they were forming and opening paths for the feet of the gospel to track its way over the known world I Little did they think, when they reduced their language to rule, that that language should be the means of defrauding their own temples, and of dethroning their own gods ! But so it was ; and there was no period but that when it could have been introduced so suitably. Hence, Paul says, " TVhen the fulness of the time was come, God sent his Son." These are only hints on this in- teresting subject ; but they may tend to throw some light on a very important question in reference to Christianity, and they may tend to furnish the minds of the young with an answer to those inf dels who ask, sometimes, with a triumphant sneer, " Why was it that Christ came so late into the world "?" If you are asked this question, my young friends, turn round to the man who asks you, and say, " Just that you, sir, might have no excuse. Mightier geniuses than you have exam- ined into the claims of Christ and Chris- tianity ; and that at the very time when it was proper to do so — when they had all the facts and circumstances of the case before their eyes." Thus the wisdom and goodness of God ordained it, that our system might have firm footing, and that our hopes might have a stable foundation. Let us, n. Consider the ma' ner of his in- carnation. " When the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law." 1. " God sent forth his Son, made of a woman.''^ There is something very pe- culiar in this expression, " made of a wo- man ;" it is generally said " born of a woman ;" it is only in reference to Christ that the word " made" is used. The fact is, that the words would have been an absurdity, had Christ been the son of Jo- seph. The language agrees with nothing in nature, because the fact of which it , ■•,■***»■ 406 THE BRITISH PULHT. speaks is out of nature, is altogether a miracle. The expression will not apply to any other but Christ. On the same principle it was said, "the word was made, flesh ;" what would you think if I were called to baptize a child, and were solemnly to thank God that the child was "made of a woman," or that it was "made flesh]" You would consider it a strange mode of expression, and would naturally say, " Why what else could it be made of]" But we must not dwell on this point. There is something peculiarly striking in the fact, that " God sent forth his Son" into the world as a child. To me there is something very delightful in the idea that the Saviour was first presented as an in- fant in our world. Why it proves at once that his errand was one of mercy : it is an affecting illustration of what is said in the gospel, " God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world," else he would have come as a man of war, arrayed in all the attributes of power and of terror. But he came as a babe; and this was permitted, that you and I, who are parents, might feel as much comfort and delight in his nativity, as when we folded our own first dear infant in our arms. God has thus given a pledge in the very sweetness of his infancy, how blessed his errand to the world was ! He sent him also inhumble life. It was said to the shepherds, " Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger;" and in similar circum- stances of poverty we find his whole life. And why 1 Why to show that the poor- est and humblest are welcome to him, and to all his benefits. Had he been born in a palace ; had he dwelt among the rich and great ; the poor might have feared to approach him. But he took the lowest scale in society, that the humblest, the poorest, the most dependent might not fear rejection when they came to him. Hence, he sent the plainest, the simplest, the most unlettered men, to see and to worship him at his advent; though he sent also, some great and wise on the same errand. This teaches us that while there are mysteries in the incarnation of the Son of God, which angels cauno't comprehend, there are yet in it features of grace and glory which the simplest may understand. Angels sang on their visit to Bethlehem, and the mysteries of the incarnation did not prevent their song ; | and shepherds did so too, and its mysto \ ries did not prevent their song. 2. He was " made under the law.''^ That is, he was made in the same rela- tion to the law, which we as sinners stand to it — bound to obey it, and also to bear its curse. This Christ did ; — he " magni- fied the law" by his perfect obedience, i and he " made it honourable" by bearing its curse, and preventing it from being a 1 curse to us. | HI. Consider the great design of HIS INCARNATION. This was two-fold : — " to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." 1. " Tb redeem them that were under the law.''^ " To redeem them" from what ? My friends, from the curse of tlie law, and not from the obligation of it. The death of Christ would not have been an atonement, if it had set aside the law as • a rule of life ; this would have disgraced and destroyed the law, instead of magni- fying and making it honourable. The death of Christ has made the law a rule for our working, and has abolished it as a covenant of works. We are not redeemed from the curse of the law, if we reject the obligation of the law. That man has not faith, whatever he pretends to, who makes void the law : — that faith is not the " faith of God's elect," if it make void the law of Christ; and while a man pretends to do the will of Christ, if I hear him deny the authority of the law, and declare that he has nothing to do with it, I turn at once from him to the apostle of the Lamb, and he says, " Do we make void the law, through faith ] God forbid : yea, we establish the law;" and then I know which side to choose. But all are not redeemed from the cu)-se - of the law who acknowledge the obliga- tion of the law. If there be a man here who tries to obtain -r^&nption from the gospel, by obedience to t!ie law, that man jEt^f-^rstands neither law nor gospel. My Ml;^ sinner, if you are concerned about THE FULNESS OF TIME. 407 salvation, a justifyinfj riofhteousness is your object. Now " Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth;" and relief to your mind you cannot feel, unless you go to him for justification before God. You cannot obey the law too much ; but you must look for justification to Christ alone. 2. " That we might receive the adoption of sonsy Mark the peculiarity of the language ; not the adoption of nations. The Jews had this for a long series of ages; "to them pertained the adoption, the promises," and so on. But this left them, at any moment, liable to be cut off. No; he says, "the adoption of sons,'''' that we might be part of the divine fami- ly, and have an interest in all its bless- ings. I cannot now dwell on this inte- resting point; but I would say, in one word, they are of the children of God, of the adopted of God, who have fled to Christ for complete redemption. I know well, by experience, how many agitations a serious mind feels after it becomes ac- quainted with the gospel. Often is it said, "Ah, I have not the spirit of adop- tion ! I am not able to say, Abba, Fa- ther ! I have been earnestly looking and groaning for this spirit; but I have not yet felt that which warrants me to say, I am a child of God !" I am sure those who have felt such emotions know how- great is the anxiety connected with them. Now when you and I are set fast here, it arises from an oversight : — the fact is, we cannot yeeZ it till we believe it. The word of God says that he is a child of God who has fled for refuge to Christ alone. If we believe this, then we are warranted to believe that great statement, that " to as many as believe on him, to them gave he power, or warrant, to be- come the sons of God ;" and it is not by looking beyond the word of God for something to satisfy us, but by taking the divine testimony as it stands, that we are to expect comfort. If I know in my conscience that I need salvation, the sal- vation that is to be found in Christ alone, and depend on him alone for that salva- tion, I am warranted to believe that I am a child of God ; and I may spend my life in looking for it elsewhere. It is in the Bible, and not out of it, that we are to look for our warrant. It is in the word of God we are to search for it; and if we find that warrant there, we liave a right to believe that we are children of God; and then we come to enjoy it, and then we are truly happy. THE PU1.PIT GA-l^liERir. NO. XIV. REV. ROBERT PHILIP, Maherley Chapel, Kingsland The Rev. Robert Philip was former- ly minister of an Independent congrega- tion at Liverpool, at which place he re- sided many years, and taught the people with success. What circumstances oc- casioned his removal to London, and set- tlement at Kingsland, we do not know. Mr. Philip in person is rather tall, and inclined to corpulency. His face is pleas- ing, his forehead high, and denoting ima- ginative power; his voice is weak, and rather shrill in its tones ; his action is in general appropriate. As a preacher, Mr. Philip is distin- guished by his bold and energetic pro- clamation of what he conceives to be the truth. He appears neither solicitous to ascertain whether his doctrine be palata- ble to his hearers, nor does he study nice and delicate terms to convey the awful denunciations of the gospel to the tender consciences of well-bred sinners. He clothes himself in the dignity of his office, and speaks as one having authori- ty, and not as the scribes. He evidently studies divine truth for himself, and exa- mines " systems of divinity" by the un- erring standard of holy writ. He does not seem to be one who would tolerate error because of its antiquity, or because it has been sanctioned and approved by eminent divines. His imagination is powerful ; — hence his language is figurative, and his ser- mons abound with vivid and interesting pictures. His judgment is good, and hia taste has evidently been improved by 408 THE BRITISH PULPIT. observation and reading-. He appears well acquainted with the human heart, not only as it is delineated and exposed in the Scriptures, but as it is seen in the development of its affections in society. This gives him experience to detect its latent wishes, and to counteract its evil propensities, by substituting high and noble motives to action, instead of low and worldly cares. His ideas are sometimes very original, and his whole discourses very far re- moved from the tame generalities of com- mon-place preachers. Viewed in this respect, he is certainly entitled to rank high amongst his contemporaries. The following is a specimen of his style, selected from his sermon on the death of the lamented princess Char- lotte : — " Aware, as I was, how the doleful tidings must affect a devoted and intelli- gent people, still I could not have con- ceived that any thing short of a universal eartliquake, or the blast of the archan- gel's trumpet, would have produced the gloom and consternation which now sur- round us. And who that contemplated Britain the week before this calamity, and saw her vast population labouring in their respective spheres of action, as if nothing could divert them from gain or gayety — as if every individual felt only for himself; who that saw this could have named any event, not miraculous, which, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, would banish mirth from all the gay, and composure from all the serene ; make the merchant lay down his pen, and the mechanic his tools ; unrobe the bride of her ornaments, and the bridegroom of his attire ; turn the house of feasting into a house of mourning; and command a pause to pleasure and business, like the shaking among the dry bones in the valley of vision ! Such a shock was inconceiv- able from natural impulse. Sleep de- parted from the fatigued and the thought- less for a time ; honour and wealth seemed to be insipid ; the orphan forgot his ex- posure, the widow her desolation, and Ihe widower the ' w'fe of his youth,' in the more aggravated woes of Claremont ; and, by an instantaneous movement, the whole community seemed to discover that their personal comfort had been sus- pended on the princess. ' One dead' in every family could not have excited more general consternation." THE MISSIONARY CANDIDATE. — AN ANECDOTES. A PIOUS young man, who was desirou of devoting himself to the work of the ministry among the heathen, and had been recommended with that view to the Committee of the London Missionary Society, on undergoing the usual exami- nation, stated that he had one difficulty: he had an aged mother entirely dependent upon an elder brother and himself for maintenance ; and, in case of that bro- ther's death, he should wish to be at liberty to return to this country, if his mother were still living, to contribute to her support. Scarcely had he made this ingenuous statement, when a harsh voice exclaimed, " If you love your mother more than the Lord Jesus Christ, you will not do for us." Abashed and con- founded, the young man was silent. Some murmurs escaped the committee ; and he was directed to retire while his proposal was taken into consideration. On his being again sent for, the venera- ble chairman, (Dr. Waugh,) in tones of unaffected kindness, and with a patri- archal benignity of mien, acquainted him that the committee did not feel them- selves authorized to accept of his ser- vices on a condition involving uncertainty as to the term; but immediately added, " We think none the worse of you, my good lad, for your dutiful regard to your aged parent. You are but acting in con- formity to the example of Him whose gospel you wish to proclaim among the heathen ; who, as he hung upon the cross in dying agonies, beholding his mother and the beloved disciple standing by, said to the one, ' Woman, behold thy son ;' and to John, ' Behold thy mother.' My good lad, we think none the worse of you." SERMON XLV. THE CAUSE AND CHARACTER OF RELIGIOUS JOY. BY THE REV. WILLIAM BROWN. "And he went on his way rejoicing." — Acts viii. 39. In the preceding context we are pre- sented with some brief notices concern- ing the distinguished individual to whom these words refer. We are presented more particularly with an account of his conversion to God, an account which, though very short, must, I should think, be deeply interesting to every Christian. Attached as a proselyte to the Jewish church, he had travelled, it should seem, no less a distance than from Ethiopia to Jerusalem, for the purpose of worshiping God within that church's consecrated veil, and according to her appointed ritual. The object of his journey being thus accomplished, he was now on his return, it appears, to the court of Candace, the queen of his native land, to whom he acted in the capacity of chamberlain or treasurer ; and while prosecuting his homeward way, we find he was profitably employed in perusing the Old Testament Scriptures. The Bible, we learn, was opened before him in the fifty-third chap- ter of Isaiah ; but to him, in his circum- stances at that time, it was a dead letter and a sealed book. That impressive pro- phecy respecting our Redeemer's suffer- ings was read by him with little under- standing and with little emotion ; it might, perhaps, be somewhat interesting to his natural feelings, indeed it could scarcely fail to be so, but then it must have appeared to him dark, unintelligible, and obscure. He perceived, no doubt, that it referred to something of more than usual importance ; but he had no accurate idea either as to the dignity of the suffer- VoL. I.— 53 er, or as to the design of his sufferings, or as to the persons for whom he suffered. His mind, accordingly, appears to have been upon the stretch for further informa- tion on the subject ; and suspecting, pro- bably, that the passage which he had been reading in Isaiah had reference to some vital points on which he was yet ignorant, his soul would most likely be seized with certain painful anxieties, which would not be easily allayed, either by the attractive beauty of the surround- ing scenery, or by the attentions of his official retinue, or by the reveries of his own imagination. It was at this crisis, my friends, that he was accosted by the disciple Philip, who, in obedience to the angel of the Lord, had recently left Jerusalem for the very purpose, and soon overtook him by the way. Unattended and unintroduced, this faithful servant of Christ immediately entered upon his commission, by one of those delicate questions, which, without revolting the feelings of this nobleman, was yet sufficiently explicit to show, that as the stranger who addressed him was evidently acquainted with his anxieties, so he had in all probability the means in his power to relieve them. The sub- sequent part of the narrative, my friends, declares to us the issue. " Philip," it is said, " opened his mouth, and began at the same Scripture, and preached unto him Jesus." The remaining events of the interview now followed each other in rapid succession; in short, the sermon was blessed and sanctified — the person to 2 M 409 410 THE BRITISH PULPIT whom it was addressed believed and was baptized — the Spirit of the Lord caught away Philip — the eunuch saw him no more, but "he went on his way rejoic- ing." In order, liowever, to give the greater unity and simplicity to our subsequent observations on this subject, they may suitably be comprised, I think, under the two following general heads. I. The character and condition of THE PERSON REJOICINO. II. The causes of his joy. In reference, then, to the condition AND character OF THE PERSON REJOIC- ING, the first observation which naturally occurs to us is, that he was a person af authority and rank. It has frequently and very justly been remarked, that among those who cordially embrace the gospel, there "are not many wise, not many mighty, not many noble ;" and it must be confessed that the remark, taken as a general proposition, is, no doubt, a true one. It must be confessed, my brethren, that as worldly wisdom is often addicted to pursuits which, if not hostile to reli- gion, are at least foreign to its spirit, and its interests, so lofty genius, we know, is frequently prostrated to many ignoble purposes ; while high station, on the other hand, instead of being turned to advantage in proportion to its facilities for usefulness and for improvement, is often employed in subserviency to a mere secu- lar ambition, or the gratification of the minor passions and inferior propensities of our nature. Butalthough this be unquestionably true as a general proposition, it by no means excludes, yon observe, particular excep- tions : on the contrary, it is the peculiar glory of the gospel, that it has no spirit- ual monopoly among us. Destined for universal diffusion, as we know it to have been, it is indeed a grand and compre- hensive scheme of redemption, which is fully and freely offered to as many as are willing to receive it ; and as God, we know, is no respecter of persons, so he occasionally calls to a participation of his grace, individuals of every rank, of every country, and of every age. Now, of this very fact, observe, the case of the individual in the text affords us a most striking and appropriate exam- ple. Though born and educated an idol- ater, he was successively brought first within the pale of the Jewish church, and ultimately to a participation of Christian privileges — though raised to an elevated rank in a foreign court, he did not per- mit the splendour of his station to dazzle and delude him into a forgetful ness, either of God, or of his own spiritual safety — though surrounded on every side with all that could tempt him to sinful and relaxed habits, — the whole of this narrative, I humbly submit, plainly inti- mates that the care of his soul was his principal concern, and that, though occu- pied with the high causes and occupa- tions of state, he was still more particu- larly engrossed with the far higher con- cerns of eternity. And while all this tends most powerfully to discredit the excuses of those, who presume to plead, that they are so immersed in business as to have little or no leisure for religion, it serves also most distinctly to show us, that by a prudent distribution of time, and by a proper improvement of opportunities, there are no conceiveable situations and no conceivable pursuits, whatever be their magnitude and importance, which may not be ably and honourably performed in due subordination to those other and higher duties devolving on us all in rela- tion to an eternal world. These and these only should have a permanent place in our affections ; this and this only should form the paramount object of our lives ; and this was pre-eminently the case with the distinguished individual here alluded to. He had high temporal duties to per- form, and he did them well ; had he left them undone, or had he performed them only in an indifferent manner, it is scarcely possible, I think, that he could have maintained that respectability of character, and that popularity at court, by which, very likely, he obtained leave and leisure to visit the city of Jerusalem on this occasion. On the contrary, (that is, on the supposition of his having been an idle and inefficient functionary,) the probability is, that he must have resigned the seals of office, before he could have THE CAUSE AND CHARACTER OF RELIGIOUS ^OY. 41] undertaken this journey ; but the fact is, he retained the one and he accomplished the other; his worldly avocations were attended to, in subordination to, and in connexion with, his spiritual observances. His piety kept pace with his patriotism; while he honoured his queen, he did not omit to fear God ; and according to the measure of light, which was then vouch- safed to him, we find from this passage that he undertook and travelled a very considerable journey to worship in the Jewish temple, agreeable to the faith which he professed. Now you will observe still further, that the Ethiopian alluded to, besides having been a man of rank, and in office, was a person of very firm and decided character. Born as he was in a country where the worship of the true God was little known, and still less attended to, it is more than probable, as I have already hinted, that he had been educated in heathen idolatry, and that his mind had been early imbued with all those deep and inveterate pre- judices which usually adhere to the vota- ries of an ancient superstition. It appears however from this narrative, that in this case the prejudices in question had been effectually overcome, and that in spite of all those ties which might naturally be supposed to have bound and warped his affecliins, he resolutely forsook the reli- gion of his native land, and became a convert to Judaism. Whether this change in his sentiments was effected instrumentally by his having procured a copy of the Scriptures, which we find he was now reading, or by the ministrations of some unknown but not unhonoured preacher, or by his intercourse with those Jt^ws who were accustomed to travel great distances on the enterprises of com- merce ; whether he was converted to Judaism by the instrumentality of any one of these circumstances, or by a con- currence of them all, is a point which it is not very easy to determine, and of no great moment to be ascertained ; the fact is certain, that he abandoned idolatry and became a professor of Judaism. But what I wish more particularly to advert to is, that subsequently to this his first conversion, the firmness, and the deci- sion, and the consistency of his character was altogether such, my brethren, as not only to claim our respect, but even to deserve our imitation. To repudiate the religious opinions in which a man has been educated from his youth, is a step which it is at all times painful to take, and which it is sometimes dangerous to avow. On the one hand he is fronted and opposed by the venerated example of his ancestors, and he is out-clamoured on the other by the voice and the violence of a contemporaneous multitude. Even in nations the most enlightened, where moral speculations have been carried to the greatest length, and where freedom has been permitted with longest and largest liberty, even there the toleration that is usually extended to difference of opinion on all other subjects, is usually withheld from him who abandons the religion of his country ; the man who ventures to do so is generally covered with odium and with disgrace ; he is regarded, for the most part, as an offensive excrescence on the face of society, which must be re- moved by all means, by foul or by fair, and which is sometimes corrected by the strong arm of the law. But if such be the feeling of the en- lightened, and the professedly liberal, and the worldly wise, what might we expect from heathen, from uneducated, savage, barbarous heathens, in circumstances precisely parallel ? Attached to their idolatries, neither by the convictions of reason, nor by a respect for the Divine character, but by a blind and sensual fanaticism, which is generally stronger than both, it is natural to suppose, that openly to discountenance their supersti- tion would only be to offend their preju- dices and to provoke their rage, undis- ciplined as they are to any thing like close, patient, or consecutive reasoning ;. they know of no argument to support their opinions but the argument of physi- cal power, therefore, before they can out- reason a man of firm and decided charac- ter, and of superior faculties, and of better information than they themselves pos- sessed, they must first of all consume him to ashes, and they must release that spirit from its mortal bondage, which they 412 THE BRITISH PULPIT. found it impossible, by any milder means, to silence or subdue. Applying all this, therefore, to the mat- ter before us, there is no reason to sup- pose that the conduct of the African Ethi- opian idolaters, in reference to the con- version, or, as they would conceive it, the apostasy of their distinguished coun- tryman, would be at all different from the conduct of other nations, in circum- stances precisely parallel. Indeed, it may be questioned very much, whether the superior rank of this convert would not give a greater shock to their preju- dices, and a darker and a deeper charac- ter to their fanaticism. Of this, indeed, there can be no doubt at all, that if in our own land any of the functionaries of go- vernment were openly disavowing, syste- matically dishonouring, the religion of the country, then the elevation of his rank, and the extent of his influence, would only give a greater aggravation to his crime ; and his deprivation of liberty, of office, and of character, would be deemed all too little to atone for the guilt of his apostasy. What may have been the precise treatment which this Ethiopian nobleman met with, on abandoning idolatry and embracing Judaism, we cannot presume positively to say. These, at all events, are the probable difficulties he would have to contend with — these the sacrifices he would be required to make — these the temptations which assuredly he would have to resist. In the face of all these things, however, we find that he made an open, an honest, and undisguised profes- sion of his new sentiments ; and if, not- withstanding this, he still retained his official appointment and royal favour, and his popularity at court, it just shows us, my brethren, practically, though our reli- gious profession should expose us to many perils, and dangers, and opposi- tions, and difficulties, those difficulties, perils, and dangers may, after all, be overcome by real force of principle, and by a genuine integrity of character. Though this distinguished person was, no doubt, strongly tempted to conform to the superstitions of his country in a vast variety of shapes, by early predilections, by bias, by the hope of preferment, by the patronage of the great, yet we find that he was moved by none of these things ; he had appointed a higher stand- ard of duty, he followed the dictates of his own conscience ; and if, in such cir- cumstances as these, he yet maintained a decided and unshrinking profession of his Jewish principles, his conduct in this respect is eminently fitted to minister to our instruction, and is full of reproof to many, and is replete with instruction for all. It teaches us, my brethren, that if our religious profession be attended with difficulty and danger, even though it require from us an abridgment of comfort, and sacrifice of character, still it is oui imperative duty to persevere ; nor are we to conform to this world in its practical idolatries, in its sinful pleasures, or in its guilty and unlawful pursuits, even though they be sanctioned by custom, even though they be hallowed by antiquity. In the case of the Ethiopian there were many temptations on every side, if not to forsake his profession of Judaism, at least to conceal it. But with us, blessed be God, brethren, there is little or nothing of the kind. The terror of making an open confession of our religious fidelity, and our religious profession, is in the present day scarcely, if at all, experienced ; nor are the out- ward ordinances of religious worship con- fined any longer to Jerusalem, as in the time of this nobleman, who travelled so far to attend them. Instead of requiring us to perform long and laborious pil- grimages to procure the means of grace, and to attend upon the ordinances of the church, it has pleased God in his abun- dant mercy, to bring them to our very door, and we can sit each man under his own vine, and his own fig tree, and none dare to make us afraid. Let us, there- fore, improve the day of our merciful visitation — let us hold fast the beginning of our confidence to the end — let us hold fast our profession, and be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, and in the humble confidence and assurance, that if we confess Christ, and that if we act up to our profession — if we confess Christ, and remain steadfast to the end-^ TSE AND CHARACTER OF RELIGIOUS JOY. 413 we shall vvilh lilin overcome, and with him possess all things. In reference, however, to the character and condition of the person alluded to in this passage, allow me to remark, in the third place, on this part of the subject, that he was not only a man of rank, and a person of firm, and decided, and con- sistent character, but he was also n serious and diligent inquirer. If it be a fair cri- terion to judge of a man's attachment to religious knowledge by the exertions and sacrifices which he makes to obtain it, then the sincerity of the Ethiopian noble- man must be beyond the possibility of doubt. Previously to the time alluded to in this passage, he must have acquired, unquestionably, a very considerable ac- quaintance with the Jewish economy; out not being content with the informa- tion he had already obtained, he had tra- velled no less a distance than from Africa to Jerusalem to obtain more ; and even now he was engaged in reading the Bible. Far from indulging in that capricious and superficial kind of inquiry, which origin- ates in no better principle than curiosity, and which subsides the moment that principle is satisfied, he appears, on the contrary, to have been a man in solemn and sober earnest. A man, bending the whole power of his faculties to the appre- inension of divine truth, and in prosecut- ing this great object, his investigations were at once diversified and laborious ; not confined to general statements, or to partial views, but steadily and diligently directed to the whole counsel of God ; nor even when he had visited Jerusalem, and had engaged in the worship of the temple, did he permit himself to rest sa- tisfied with his previous attainments, or with the teaching of the Rabbles, priests, and scribes. Anxious as he seems to have been, my friends, to make still fur- ther improvement in knowledge, he re- solved to inquire for himself, he deter- mined to receive no second-hand state- ments, he consulted the oracles of truth, direct he went to the fountain-head. Even when sitting in his very chariot, when returning home, when his mind might be naturally occupied in reflecting on the scenes wliich he had left, when his pride might have been flattered by th« cavalcade which accompanied him, the time, in his estimation, was all too pre- cious to be wasted on any such trifles ; at this moment, neither Jerusalem, with her lofty turrets, which he was leaving be- hind him, nor nature with her easlern loveliness ; no, nor chariots, nor horse- men, were of any present interest to him ; his soul was occupied with infinitely higher concerns, his mind was directed to a nobler subject of contemplation, his heart was engrossed, in short, in perusing the Scriptures of truth. \ Now, the improvement that all this suggests to us, is as obvious as it is im- portant. If, in the adorable sovereignty of divine grace, we have been brought into circumstances, and favoured with opportunities favourable for our advance- ment in spiritual things, let us imitate the diligent searching of this Ethiopian convert, who was employed in consulting the word of God. Let ns improve the precious moments as they pass, let us prosecute our religious inquiries with an earnest purpose of heart, and with an humble dependence on the Spirit. Instead of resting satisfied with the measure of knowledge to which we may have already attained, let us throw off our listlessness, and set ourselves thoroughly and instant- ly to peruse this blessed book with more diligence, and with more interest, than ever we have hitherto done. If, in this way, we follow on to know the Lord, we have in the text, you will notice, an en- couraging precedent to show, that we shall indeed know him, that our labour shall not be in vain, and that our inquiries shall be savingly blessed. And whatever be the temptations to which we may be exposed, whether the allurements of worldly society, or a fondness for un- profitable reading, or an undue attach- ment to the luxuries and to the pride of life, or a grovelling propensity for base and degrading indulgence; oh! let us remember, that as in the case of this noble individual who was now leaving Jerusa- lem in his carriage, so the chariot of time is rapidly rolling us along ; therefore, it is our duty, like him, to read and to think by the way — that according to the swift- 2m2 414 THE BRITISH PULPIT. ness of its motion we are, like him, pro- portionably receding from the earthly side. Like him, then, let us avail our- selves of every opportunity for receiving instruction that may offer, even though it may present itself in a form little calcu- lated to conciliate our carnal pride, re- membering the beautiful example set us by this distinguished person, who, when the humble Philip came up to him, when he interrupted him in his reading, was so far from repelling such an intrusion, that he received it with humility ; he listened to his instruction without any feeling of pride, or distrust, or suspicion ; he even invited him to come up into his chariot, and to expound to him the word of God — he condescended to be as a little child, and to receive with meekness the in- grafted word, which was able to save his soul. Oh, dear brethren, " go and do like- wise ;" receive the word of truth as it is offered to you, in whatever form, so as it be the truth. In one word, believing in the Lord Jesus Christ as this Ethiopian did, let us follow his example by making a profession of our faith — by not conceal- ing our principles — by not being ashamed to avow ourselves to the church and to the world. No sooner had he received this instruction, than he exclaims the very first opportunity that presented, " Here is water, what doth hinder me from being baptized 1" If we know Christ, let us confess him before men, and he will confess us before his Father in heaven ; and let us confess him not merely by attending to the ordinances of religion, not merely by being seen keep- ing our customary places in the church, not merely by associating with God's people, but confessing him by joining his visible church, by doing this according to his own command and in remembrance of his name. In that case we are en- couraged to hope that we shall partake of the blessedness of the Ethiopian, and, like him, " go on our way rejoicing." To some the rejoicing of this distinguish- ed foreigner may possibly appear to he someichat unnatural and even unlovely. According to the narrative given to us, the gladness of the Ethiopian seems to have been immediately consequent on his final separation from Philip ; and as be- lievers usually delight in the society of those by whom they have been spiritually benefited, his conduct may seem to betray either a callousness of feeling or defici- ency of gratitude ; and it may perhaps, be thought that the circumstance of his having quitted such a valuable instructer, ought rather to have excited on his part an emotion of sorrow, and that had he dropped a tear at parting, it would have been at once a credit to his sensibility and a better proof that he rightly appre- ciated the nature and extent of his obliga- tions. It must be confessed, indeed, that to see Philip caught away from his view by a sudden and miraculous interposition, was of itself fitted to in- spire him with the most solemn and reve- rential ideas ; and when to this it is add- ed, that the person so removed was one to Avhom, of all others, he had been in- debted, and to whose company he must have attached associations of the tender- est kind ; then the rejoicing of this Ethi- opian nobleman may, perhaps, appear to some persons to indicate either that he had set no great value on what he had recently heard, or that he felt so confident of Philip's former instructions, as actually to pursue his journey without requiring his aid, and without deploring his ab- sence. But though this objection may, perhaps, very readily present itself, there is really nothing in it to entitle it to much consideration. It is founded entirely upon an imperfect acquaintance with the prac- tical effects of divine grace, nor can there be a doubt that the vindication of the Ethiopian's joy on this occasion may be triumphantly grounded on the simpli- city and sincerity of his faith. To sup- pose, indeed, that he was unawed by the supernatural interposition of God in re- moving Philip frfim his view, or that he felt no regret at the loss of his spiritual instructer, is, in point of fact, a gratuitous assumption, which there is nothing in this narrative to justify ; and though it may be true that notwithstanding both of these events he actually did go on his way rejoicing, this fact only proves the power and the efficacy of those doctrines THE CAUSE AND CHARACTER OF RELIGIOUS JOY. 415 which he had recently embraced — it only proves that the gift of faith which he had received, had had the double effect, not only for preparing him for extraordinary manifestations of the divine power, but of consoling him even under the loss of a spiritual privilege — it only proves, in short, that though his present circum- stances may appear to us sufficient to overwhelm him with the most painful regret, yet that the grace given to him was far more than adequate to counterba- lance all such feelings, and to fill his whole soul with absorbing emotions of gratitude, and with an inexpressible feel- ing of joy. But this, I trust, will appear more evi- dently by considering at greater length the second division of our subject, namely, the CAUSKS OR REASONS OF HIS JOY. In the first place, it may be inferred that he will go on his way rejoicing, on account of the new information he had obtained. Though previously to the period alluded to in this passage this eminent person had for some time been a convert to the Jewish religion, the probability is, that his attachment to Judaism was little less than simply giving it a preference above the gross and absurd idolatries of Ethio- pia, and that his acquaintance with it was limited entirely to a knowledge of its forms and ceremonies, without any direct perception either of their spiritual meaning or of their ulterior end. During his late visit to Jerusalem, his usual in- tercourse would be confined very proba- bly to the scribes and to the Pharisees, who constituted at that time the higher orders of Jewish society, and from them, we know, he would derive no other kind of information than that which related exclusively to the ceremonial ritual, the only effect of which would be to fortify him more and more in his self-depend- ence, and in his spiritual pride. It is true, 1 acknowledge, he did indeed pos- sess a copy of the Old Testament Scrip- tures, but then that he could neither un- derstand nor apply them, is sufficiently evident from his own acknowledgment; for when Philip inquired of hiin,"Un- derstindest thou what thou readest]" he repliefl, with a frank and straight-for- ward ingenuousness, " How can I unless some man should guide mel" Now, my friends, in such a state of ignorance as this, there can be no doubt, I think, that to his reflecting and intelli- gent mind, the worship, the forms, and the ceremonies of the Jewish church must have appeared extremely perplexing and dark. In the absence of that light which has been thrown upon them by the gos- pel, the only consideration that could commend them to his judgment, that of rendering obedience and adoration to one infinite and eternal Spirit, was incompa- rably more rational than to countenance the absurd idolatries of Ethiopia; but, so far as the grand question of his own per- sonal acceptance with God was con- cerned, he was, in reality, not one whit more forward than before, and, as long as he was ignorant of the Saviour, in whom all the Mosaic ceremonies and all the Scripture promises were to be fulfilled, his attachment to the Hebrew worship was, in truth, only a different form of superstition, which, though less revolting to a cultivated mind, was in his case equally powerless, as well for pacifying the conscience as for purifying and re- newing the heart. In the providence of God, however, the period of his spiritual darkness was now brought to a close by his having recently received a clear exhi- bition of the divine Redeemer, from whose sacrifice the Mosaic ritual derived all its efficacy and all its worth ; Philip, we are told, " preached unto him Jesus ;" and in what did such preaching consist] Was it to tell him that God was a being of infinite mercy, who would overlook his sins and short-comings, and who would regard such obedience as he might be competent to render as constituting a meritorious title to the divine favour 1 Was it to inculcate upon him that obser- vance of external rites, and that venera- tion for vain traditions, which constituted so exclusively the religion of the Phari- sees and scribes'? Was it to tell him, in the absence of a confiding faith, and a perfect conformity to the Divine will, the Lord would be satisfied with a sincere but a perfect obedience on his part? No, 1 my brethren, no such thing ; to " preach 416 THE BRITISH PULPIT. unto him Jesus," was to set before him earnestl}% and clearly, and faithfully, the infinite holiness of his nature, the guilt and malitrnity of sin, the deep depravity of his own heart, the awful curse under which he laboured as a guilty and condemned crea- ture, as well as his absolute need of a Saviour, and then to follow up those statements with a broad, full, and clear exhibition of the only method of the sin- ner's justification, not by the works of the law, but only through faith in the righteousness and the blood of Christ. Now, observe, as such preaching as this is seldom unaccompanied with a blessing, so we find in the case before us that it was made abundantly effectual, in opening the eyes of this Ethiopian's un- derstanding, and in opening up to him the glory of that mystery which had been hid from generations, " God manifest in the flesh." In the course of one single ser- mon, it appears, this distinguished Ethi- opian found himself not only convinced of sin and summoned to repentance, but reconciled to his heavenly Father through faith, and blessed in a very considerable degree with the gracious influence of the Spirit. Having been previously, then, in a state of ignorance, of perplexity, and doubt, having been in a state of distrust respecting his spiritual condition, and his personal acceptance with God, he saw now in Jesus, whom Philip preached to him, the very Saviour whom he needed, and the only Saviour that could give any comfort to him. From the thraldom of Jewish rites, therefore, he now emerged into the glorious liberty of the church of God ; and instead of continuing any long- er as an alien and an outcast, he now re- ceived, in great mercy, the privileges of an adopted son. The rejoicing, there- fore, of this eminent individual, you will notice, was not without a just and direct cause. He had found a physician for his diseased soul — he had found a balsam for his wounded conscience — he had received light into his darkened mind — he had found in short, a great and precious boon, which, while it purified and cheered his earthly course, taught him to look for- ward with hope, and brightened his pros- pects for eternity. Nor was the joy experienced upon such an occasion iu any degree peculiar to the Ethiopian. It is, indeed, the com- mon happiness, generally speaking, of every believer, who has been made to participate, like him, in the riches of divine grace. From the moment that the Christian is enabled to look to the Sa- viour with that undoubting confidence, we fully and firmly believe in his perfect atonement for sin — from the moment that he sees Immanuel exalted to his mediato- rial throne in the heavens, as an advocate for his people, and as dispensing those blessings which he died to purchase — from the moment he feels the divine influ- ence come over his soul with an enlighten- ing, and quickening, and convincing, and transforming power — from that blessed moment he is a new creature. He sees that the work of his salvation is accom- plished independently of himself — he is no longer under the dread of death, or the fear of hell, or the pains and penalties of the law — he is filled with joy and peace in believing, and he abounds in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost. Instead of fretting, and murmuring, and repining under the divine dispensations, he rejoices in the divine goodness, and he submits with acquiescence to all the appointments of his heavenly Father. Instead of turning away from the world with disgust, as a scene only of turmoil, and misery, and sin, and instead of cling- ing to it unduly on the other hand as his only and ultimate portion, he regards it as his appointed place of probation, as his appointed place of discipline and trial, where his capacity is to be cultivated and improved — where he is to redeem the time — where he is to receive grace to prepare for a future and eternal world. Like the Ethiopian nobleman, he goes on his way rejoicing, even though his mind may occasionally, as undoubtedl)'^ it some- times will, be overshadowed with sorrow and with doubts, it is only like a passing cloud which leaves behind it a purer at- mosphere, a warmer sun, and a brighter sky ; and he gathers a varied revenue of enjoyment from nature, from Providence, from the words, and works, and the ways of God ; and he is constrained to the dis THE CAUSE AND CHARACTER OF RELIGIOUS JOY. 417 charge of duty, not by a feeling of terror, but from a principle of love ; and he is enabled to look upon God, not as a slave- master driving with the lash, but as an affectionate parent whom he delights to honour from a high sense of obligation, and with a happier spirit of alacrity. In the second place, we may infer that the Ethiopian went on his way rejoicing, on account of his recent admission to Chris- tian privileges. In obedience to the di- vine appointment, it was, you know, the practice of the primitive preachers of the gospel to introduce new converts into the bosom of the church, by administering to them the ordinance of baptism. That Philip had already instructed this new disciple respecting the nature and the obligations of that initiatory sacrament, is evident from the fact, that the proposal to receive it originated with the Ethio- pian himself — " Here is water," said he, " what doth hinder me from being bap- tized]" And Philip said, "If thou be- lievest with all thine heart, thou mayest." And on the Ethiopian replying, "I be- lieve that Jesus Christ is the Son of God," — " he commanded the chariot to stand still : and they went both down into the water together, both Philip and the eunuch, and he baptized him." Now, my brethren, the administration of this sacrament to the individual in question, constituted, I doubt not, one of the principal reasons of his joy, and a rational one too. Not that either he or his teachers would regard this ordinance as essentially necessary to salvation — not that he attached to it any mystical, or miraculous, or superstitious virtue — not that he mistook the mere sign for the thing signified — not that he considered that to be regeneration which was only its appointed symbol, the rejoicing of his heart was based upon more enlightened principles, and established upon firmer ground. He rejoiced in his baptism, because it afforded him the first opportu- nity since his conversion of conforming to the express will of his Redeemer. He rejoiced in his baptism, because it pre- sented him with a sacrament by which he could seal his adherence to the cause of Christ, and by which he could testify his Vol. 1—53 resolution to serve him in the face of his dependants, in the face of bis country- men, in the face of the world. He re- joiced in his baptism, in short, because it paved the way for his admission into the remaining privileges of Christian disci- pleship,and because it gave him a pledge of those gracious influences of the Spirit by which he might make still further advances in knowledge, and still higher attainments in holiness. And here I would observe, my friends, with reference more particularly to the solemn ordinance of the supper which we have in prospect, that, though in the sub- sequent ages of the church's history, and in the more advanced stage of the Chris- tian dispensation, we, being admitted to baptism in our infancy by virtue of our conjunction with professing Christian parents, have at that early period of life neither the capacity nor the means of making a Christian profession in the same way as the Ethiopian had; yet we are not, on that account, the less favoured with equally appropriate opportunities of a similar kind ; for what the ordinance of baptism was to him, the sacrament of the supper is to us. If, therefore, on believing in the Lord Jesus, he felt anx- ious to take the first opportunity of tes- tifying the sincerity of his faith by con- formity to the Saviour's will, in the initi- atory ordinance of baptism ; how strong and how irresistible is the reproof, which his conduct, in this respect, offers to those, who, though outwardly professing it, and even inwardly cherishitig the same faith with him, have hitherto neglected to give a similar testimony in the conformatory ordinance of the supper. To believe in the Son of God with full purpose of heart, and yet to continue in. the habitual neglect of those solemn and edifying ordinances, is in reality a prac- tical contradiction in terms. It is at any rate an evidence of a very inadequate estimate of religious duty, and of a very imperfect conformity to the divine will ; for while it is obvious you live in the violation of an express command, " Do this in remembrance of me," it is at the same time a neglect of one of the appoint- ed means, in the use of which God is 418 THE BRITISH PULPIT. especially pleased to meet, to bless, and to edify his people, and which of all others is fitted in its very nature and design to encourage our Christian profes- sion, to revive our languishing graces, to promote our personal holiness, and to increase the divine light in our hearts and in our minds. If, therefore, any of us be in such a condition as this, it becomes us to pause and ponder well the culpable incongruity of our conduct, and if, in sincerity of heart, we do believe in Christ as our only hope, all our salvation, and all our desire —if we do feel that in some humble mea- sure we put no confidence in the flesh, but trust implicitly in his precious blood, and in his perfect righteousness, it is at once our privilege and our duty to mani- fest our faith, and to evince our gratitude by joyfully obeying the commands of the Redeemer, as this Ethiopian nobleman did, in earnestly desiring to receive the or- dinance of baptism — it is our duty in like manner, in the holy ordinance of the sup- per, to give a public testimony that we are one with Christ in that ordinance which he has instituted as a festival for his people's refreshment, and as a memo- rial of the Saviour's love. But in the third place, we may fairly conclude that the Ethiopian went on his way rejoicing, on account of his au gmeiHed means of usrfitlness. Occupying, as he did, a high and responsible place in the civil administration of his country, as be- ing chamberlain or treasurer to the queen, it may naturally be supposed that he would be proportionably zealous, not merely for his temporal welfare, but also for his spiritual improvement. To a mind like his, it is not unlikely that the idolatry of Ethiopia would be considera- bly distressing, not so much as it was a proof of the intellectual degradation of his countrymen, as because it afforded a lamertable evidence of their moral and spiritual degeneracy. Even under his former profession as a Jew, before he was converted through the preaching of Phi- lip, it is highly probable, 1 think, that the abolition of idolatrous worship would be to him the cause of many an anxious thought, and, perhaps, the object of many a benevolent scheme, as it certainly would be the ground of many a fervent prayer. How much more ardently would those views and designs be strengthened within him, now he became enlightened with the truth of the gospel, now he be- came admitted into the liberty of the sons of God, now that his heart wrfs enlarged with all the kindly sympathies, and cha- rities, M'hich the gospel of Christ never fails to impart. Accordingly, it is stated in ecclesiastical history, though it is impossible to avouch for the fact in the most satisfactory way, it is recorded that on his return home into Ethiopia, he was the means, under God, of planting a Christian church ; and depend upon it, my brethren, that the very moment we arrive at a clear, and full, and personal appreciation of divine truth, it is like good seed in the soil, it must germinate, and quicken, and disseminate itself throughout all the influences which we have, in our family circle, in our immedi- ate neighbourhood, and in the society in which we live. It is the very nature of the grace of the gospel, when it is re- ceived into the heart, to extend its influ- ence to others — it is the very nature of the grace and love of the gospel to desire to impart its influence to those in whom we feel an interest, or with whom we may come into contact ; and this ha been the case, not merely with the Ethi- opian alluded to in the text — but with many other Scripture characters; look at David, for example, wlien he exclaimed, "Restore unto me the joys of thy salva- tion, and uphold me with thy free Spi- rit ;" what did he immediately rejoin, as a natural and necessary consequence, " then will I teach transgressors thy ways, and sinners shall be converted unto thee." Therefore, when we receive the truth in the love of it, and in all its prac- tical and purifying power, one of its very first eflfects on the soul, will be to lead us to take a deep, and tender, and aflfectionate interest in the condition of our fellow- creatures; and therefore, knowing this to be the case, is it not clear to a demon- stration, when the Ethiopian thus saw his way to usefulness opened up, he felt his means of usefulness were extended— THE CAVS7. AND CHARACTER OF RELIGIOUS JOY. 419 when his spiritual information was in- creased— when he had ijnparted that liorht to others, whicli he had enjoyed him- self, is it not clear that this would be one of the grounds of his rejoicing, and that he would " rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory T' That you, brethren, may go on your way rejoicing, let it be your constant and anxious care to cultivate a holy nearness unto God, a close living with God, a firm and unwavering faith to comply with the will of Christ; to seek to be crucified unto the world, and to have the world crucified unto you, and never forget that it is sin alone and unbelief which can wound the believer's conscience, or damp the ardour of his joy. Let it be as ardent in your case, as it was in the case of the Ethiopian — let the exercises of faith and holiness produce a glad heart and a cheer- ful countenance ; and in order that you may exhibit religion in an amiable and practical view — in order that you may exhibit it for your own comfort, and for the encouragement of others, I would say, in the language of the apostle, " Rejoice in the Lord always ; and again, I say, rejoice." Rejoice if you have been made a partaker of the grace of God — rejoice in that you have been delivered from the 'earful pit, and from the miry clay — re- joice in the access which is opened to you of daily communication between earth and heaven, to a throne of grace, through the merits of Jesus Christ, in the rent vail of the Redeemer's blood — rejoice in the privileges that are opened up to you as the professing people of God, admission to his table, association with his people, fellowship Avith the saints, and all the high and countless pri- vileges of the church — rejoice in the pre- cious blood of Christ, which cleanseth from all sin — rejoice in the agency and work of the Spirit, which is given to you to be your comforter, your enlightener, and your sanctifier. To you who have neither received the truth, in the love of it, nor are living according to the grace of the gospel — to you who are contenting yourselves with a mere pharisaical profession, a name to live, while in reality you are dead — to you who are acting the hypocrite among men, and palming a cheat upon God, I have no such exhortation to give; for " there is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked." In your experience you must already have found, if you will speak out, that a life of sin and a life of joy are alto- gether incompatible. Then I would ask, why will you persevere in that way; that way, broad and apparently beautiful though it be, which leadeth down to de- struction. Oh, pause, I beseech you, before you proceed another step in unbe- lief and iniquity, before you permit an- other Sabbath to pass without pausing to consider of your actual condition in the sight of God, guilty and condemned under his law, without hope and without faith— pause and consider before you pro- ceed another step, which, for any thing you know, may precipitate your ruin, and seal for ever your doom. The free offer of an unconditional pardon is once more made unto you. Believe, then, the testi- mony of God concerning the only Saviour, Jesus Christ; and if you receive that Saviour, as he is offered to you in the gospel, as all your portion and all your hope — if you receive him as having wrought out an everlasting righteousness, with which he is willing to clothe you, as having made a perfect atonement for sin, whose provisions and benefits he is willing to impart to you, then, my breth- ren, you also may take part with the Ethiopian nobleman, and instead of being in sadness and in sorrow, you may go on your way rejoicing; and so, when you come to the end of your journey, an en- trance shall be ministered unto you into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. — Amen. SERMON XLVI. EPHRAIM'S IDOLATRY, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. PREACHED BY THE REV. W. B. WILLIAMS, M.A. AT MARBffiUF CHAPEL, CHAMPS ELYSEES, PARIS. " Epkraim is joined to his idols: let him alone." — Hosea iv. 17. " Art thou he that troubleth Israel ?" said the fretful Ahab to the faithful pro- phet, who had done an act of kindness in the path of duty, when, in boldly reprov- ing him for his guilt, he likewise warned him of his danger. But thus it is in every age, that the messengers of God have almost always found " hatred for their good-will," and contempt and scorn, indignity and out- rage, as the return for their benevolent endeavours. Could they condescend to flatter, sought they only how to please, dare they cry, " Peace, peace !" to all who listen to their speech, and admit the necessity of their labour ; no doubt but the reception of their message would be very different from what it really proves : strange, however, as it may seem, and while, in other circumstances, persons will prefer upright dealing to deception of any kind, and submit to temporary inconvenience and present suffering, in order to their future good, in spiritual concerns it is precisely the reverse ; here, as the apostle predicted, " men will not endure sound doctrine;" in other words, they will bear with cold ethics, and " the calm terms of mild philosophy ;" they will not object to legal teneis, and will be content to rest in lifeless foims: but for " the truth as it is in Jesus," and as it intimately affects themselves ; for a reli- gion that shall probe their consciences, and control their life, they have no ear nor heart. "Let us alone," say they; or if you preach, " Prophecy unto us smooth things ; prophecy deceits, (only do not call them so;) say nothing to us as to the state and condition of our souls that shall ' torment us before the time.' " Nay, such is the infatuation, that, not- withstanding the Scripture invariably re- presents those souls as morally defiled, incurably diseased, yea, as spiritually dead, and drawing near to the bitter pains of an everlasting death, (and them- selves acknowledge all this in their for- mularies of devotion, and not unfrequently feel this " witness of death in them- selves," from the aspic poison of the old serpent preying on their vitals, and rank- ling in their veins,) they will rather die of their complaint, than have their con- sciences disturbed upon the subject ! And sometimes they have what they desire : as in the days before the flood, God's Spirit does " not always strive with man ;" even long-suffering itself has been exhausted ; and the despisers and mock- ers, who so much the more presumed and hardened their hearts, because God waited to be gracious, have been either suddenly destroyed, or given over to im- penitence and insensibility — a state, if possible, yet more dreadful (as will be shown presently), though its sorrows should be more remote. The precise period, or closing of what has been called " the day of grace," being 420 EPHRAIM'S IDOLATRY. 421 mercifully concealed from man, its exist- ence can form no rule or guide for his pro- cedure : hence a Simon INIagus, though " in the gall of bitterness," and under the strongest of all bonds, is yet to be ex- horted to " repent ;" for, until the night of death arrives, we believe that the great- est sins may be forgiven. Who, meeting even an Iscariot rushing from the judg- ment-hall, would have said to the traitor, " Now there is no hope ■?" Who would not rather have said, "VVhile life exists, O let not hope expire ! Wretch as thou art, " a Saviour to the uttermost" can relieve in circumstances though atrocious, and horrible, and peculiar, and unparalleled, and indefensible, and degraded, and des- perate, and damnable as thine I But whatever be the dismal cloud, the more than midnight or Egyptian dark- ness involving such sad scenes, our state, thanks be to God, is not thus wretched and forlorn ; yet be it remembered that every day of vanity and dissipation, of trifling unconcern, and " neglecting our great salvation," is an approximation towards it ; for it is a " provoking Jeho- vah to swear in his wrath that we shall not enter into his rest ;" and to say to us in effect, individually, what was once said nationally, " Ephraim is joined to IDOLS : LET HIM ALONE." There are doubtless many ways of treating the text : we might expound the words, and then deduce the doctrines ; or we might qualify, establish, and im- prove it ; or it might be proposed in va- rious different lights for inference or dis- cussion: we confine ourselves, however, to two general and leading particulars, in order to a direct application of the subject to ourselves ; and in this attempt may God the Holy Ghost succeed it by his bless- ing! Consider we. First, The sin of Ephraim; and, Se- condly, The punishment that followed. I. The sin of Ephraim — "Ephraim is joined to idols." By "Ephraim," in this place, we are not to understand the single tribe so called, and to which Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, that great inciter to evil, belonged ; but the whole of the nation who had revolted from Re- hoboam, the son of Solomon : it stands, therefore, for the ten seceding tribes, and, as is more generally expressed, for Israel at large, the terms being confessedly synonymous. Now, whatever iniquities were com- mon both to the kingdom of Judah and of Israel, it is certain that this last was most especially prone to idolatry ; and which, in part, may be accounted for from the circumstance of their having excluded themselves from the temple ser- vice at Jerusalem. To gratify them for their supposed loss in separating from the house of David, and fearing the con- sequence of their again mingling with their brethren, their crafty leader set up an idol worship in their coasts ; and to which association or symbolic adoration of the creature, together with the Crea- tor, (notwithstanding their severe disci- pline in the wilderness,) they appear to have been exceedingly addicted — " to wit, the calves that were in Dan and Bethel :" a repetition this of the molten calf which Aaron made in Horeb, and the remains of an Egyptian bondage on their minds, in regard to the god Apis, and a blind reverence to Osiris and Isis, the tutelary divinities of the land in which their ancestors had so long so- journed. Though here, again, we do not exactly imitate " the children of Ephraim" in our general disposition and desire, and per- haps stand directly opposed to them in these outward and leading particulars, let us not from hence conclude that there can be no need of our being cautioned against their abominable sin ; nor vainly imagine, because all of us assembled here this day are professedly Christians, and worshippers of the one true Jehovah, and have just heard and avowed our belief in and obedience to the second command- ment, that we are necessarily divorced from idols, and the haters, and enemies, and demolishers of all false gods : true, if a man place at once " the stumbling- block of iniquity before our face," we become offended, and are ready to tram- ple it and him indignantly beneath our feet: if he should raise an image on a public pedestal in any of our squares or plains, though the statue be of gold, we 2N 422 THE BRITISH PULPIT. are content that it should be overthrown : but if deities like these, or of any other kind, will take a different form, or bear another name ; if they will take our level, and first stoop, that they may rise, and serve, that they may henceforth govern ; " Ephraim, that silly dove," falls into the net of the skilful fowler, and gives them all they ask. Admitted once into the human heart, that temple of the Deity, how soon, " when sitting in the place of God," are they " worshipped as God !" j Obtaining the citadel, who ever dreams of dispossessing of his stronghold him i who ever is to us a strong man armed, I and who keeps his prisoners in what may be termed a state of peace, though slum- bering on destruction's brink'? a peace resulting from the absence of thought, the torpor of feeling, and the assistance received from his auxiliary, the world ; and which arises from the delusion of its promises, the delirium of its dreams, the intoxication of its pleasures, and the in- fatuation of its pursuits. Without entering at present into any detail as to these several objects to the sight, offerings to the sense, and opiates to the mind, it may be sufficient to re- mark that, generally speaking, idolatry is represented in Scripture as being two-fold, it being outward and inter- nal, public and retired ; and that it does not consist chiefly in acts of religious ho- mage. Whether in open or private devo- tion, we are sure that there are idols in the heart ; there may be also idols in our families, idols in our houses, we had al- most said idols in our churches ; all which are neither of wood, nor iron, nor brass, nor stone; there are found, too, idols in our legitimate callings, permit- ted relaxations, and enjoyed pursuits. In a word, " loving and serving" tlie crea- ture more than the Creator is idolatry, ■whatever be the object on which that su- premacy is placed, and that preference be shown. Hence covetousness and sensu- ality (Eph. V. 5. Phil. iii. 19) are classed under the degrading term equally with the genuflection of the body, or the more abject prostration of the superior faculty of mind. It is, then, a present and existing evil, and will be seen farther as a prevailing, a constitutional, a besetting, and a most abhorrent sin. For, ah ! who hath never yielded that love, fear, duty, fidelity, pre- ference, zeal, and confidence to some- thing earthly, which heaven alone should claim ■? Shall we, dare we, prevaricate with Ephraim, and say, respecting this, " I am pure from sin ]" " Ephraim is joined to iduh /" and true it is of many, whether called Israel- ites or Christians, in this and every place. Far be it from us to contend for the se- clusion of the hermit, the rigours of the anchorite, the superstition of the scribe, or the formality of the Pharisee. We are not at all disposed to be cynical our- selves, in principle or practice ; we know, too, it is forbidden us to be censorious as to the peculiarities and failings of others; and least of all would it become any preacher of the gospel to abuse his liberty of preaching it, by hurling the thunder of his anathemas on the land in which he is not a subject, but only a stranger privi- leged ; but no supposed, though mistaken tenderness to others should render him indifferent or treacherous to his trust. We must be faithful to you, my brethren, and to ourselves, though here ; and re- member that we cannot, dare not sink, commute, transfer, or even lessen, be- cause we are here, one particle due to our heavenly King, any more than that we owe to our earthly sovereign. Reside we where we may, we are not less Bri- tish. Why then, or how, can we be less Christian ? " We cannot go where God is not;" and whoever reigns, "we have another king, one .Tesus." Suffer me, then, my fellow-christians, and my fel- low-subjects, to ask of you this day, " Who is on the Lord's side, who ?'* Whose harness have you girded on, and whom is it you serve 1 Can any thing be more palpable (we repeat it) than that " the multitude follow evil," or any thing more plain than that we are forbidden so to do ? In proof, what are the societies in which our countrymen, (answering in the text to Ephraim,) yea, so many of them are enrolled'? Who are the per- sons with whom they more intimately associate, and where are the places in EPHRAIM'S IDOLATRY. 423 which they feel themselves most delight- ed and at homel We speak not now of any spot distingnished from the rest : it does not become us to select " Chorazin, Bethsaida, or Capernaum ;" but we might say of these, and we may assert of every metropolis especially, be its meridian that of Judea, or London, or Paris, or Rome, what a prelate of our own church (Bishop Watson) observed, (and the thunders of a Bossuet, and the tears of a Fenelon, would liave attended him,) that "every such great city is the hot-bed of vice, and the sepulchre of virtue ; the grave of the noblest feelings, civil, moral, and re- ligious." And who, standing on some eminence, and but noticing the heat and turmoil of the day, and not least on this most holy day, ordained to be the Christian's rest ; whose spirit but mnst be " stirred up," as was St. Paul's at Athens, at seeing places so populous, so elegant, so exalt- ed, so renowned, and sometimes so high- ly favoured too, almost " wholly given to idolatry !" And equally, perhaps, in the sight of the omniscient Being with those who erected an altar to the unknown God, or to Israel of old, when they "joined themselves to Baal Peor, and ate the meat-offerings of the dead !" ^'■Ephraim is joined to tdnls ,-" and it is both a natural and captivating sin ; we mean by it one which falls in so easily with our inbred and corrupt propensities — " the evil heart of unbelief, and that so readily departeth from the living God." Evidences of what this abomination that maketh desolate really is, have been al- ready given ; we only add, ourselves will afford further proof of the witchcraft and stubbornness of idolatry, whenever we become at all unchristianized, and un- christianized we are if, forgetting our baptismal vow to " renounce the devil and all his works, the pomps and vani- ties of this wicked wo Id, and all the sin- ful lusts of the flesh," either here or in any other place, we live not according to the gospel, but forsake the God of our fathers, and the sanctuary of our God. In fact, by so doing, men are already pre- pared for every evil work ; nor can it, we think, be a question but that the gross- est idolatry which either distinguished Greece, or disgraced Rome, would be more acceptable to thousands than the pure and self-denying doctrines of the gospel. For though we find no employ- ment for Demetrius and his craftsmen to polish the " silver shrines of the goddess Diana," have we no agents to whom this kind of traffic may refer 1 What, though no fanes arise to Jupiter Olympus, nor do any seek shelter beneath the aegis of Minerva; yet if we find men saying " to the work of their hands, ye are our gods;" if we see them turning with dis- gust from the Scriptural embassage of peace, and scarcely troubling themselves to frame an excuse from attending " the marriage supper of the Lamb ;" if they will openly profess they discern no beau- ty in the graces of the Spirit, and disco- ver no melody in the praises of Zion ; if there be contempt poured on all Chris- tian mysteries, and they who so strive oi serve are considered as hypocrites, or bi- gots, or fanatics, or fools, then can wo doubt that those very men who now drink in the very spirit, adopt the very terms, and pursue the very vices by which pa- ganism was distinguished, would be among the first to agonize for the garland in the Isthmian games, to seek advice from the Pythian oracle, to water anew the laurels of the god of war, and to listen entranced to the lyre of Apollo? " Ephraim is joined to idols ,•" and this is itself a besetting sin, especially in a strange and foreign land. In ancient times we read that the "sons of God" were ensnared by " the daughters of the land" through which they passed ; as, in after-date, many were " beguiled by those enchantresses of Midian ;" and is there not reason to fear that there are those (pro- fessed Christians too) who in like man- ner "have made shipwreck of faith," and yielded here to those temptations which heretofore they had the fortitude to resist 1 Not so much that the tempta- tions were really greater, but because the restraints were fewer, and former assistances were distant and removed. And, ah! (to the younger part of my au- ditory I more directly address myself) if any of you should here throw up the 424 THE BRITISH PULPIT. reins on the neck of your impetuous de- sires, how bitter will be the regret, even should any discipline hereafter reclaim you ! But the more usual result is, that tlie bank being broken down, the inunda- tion follows, and that you will proceed " adding iniquity to sin !" Thus, if Ephraim be joined to idols, after their idols they will go. So that neither mer- cies vouchsafed, nor blessings manifold, nor vengeance threatened, nor visitations dire, nor heights of exaltation, nor low- est depths of wo, have ever aroused them from their fatal slumber, dissolved the enchantment on their senses, or burst the fetters on their mind ! Rather have not such shut to the door of their prison-house (or, as a late high-priest of fashion more elegantly rendered it,* " have drawn up the blinds of their carriage, and deter- mined to sleep the remainder of the jour- ney") the better to shroud themselves in darkness, and shield themselves from interruptions'? or, having "eaten and drank, and rose up to play," have they not taken "the sackbut and psaltery, and sackbut and flute," and issued forth with modern arts or " antique pomp and pa- geantry," that, as "at Tophet of old," the melody of the strains may overpower the cries of the expiring victim, and the splendour of the drapery may conceal the deformity of the image. " Ephraim is joined to idols ,•" and it is a most horrible and destructive sin ! All sin, indeed, is abhorrent and dangerous ; but this has of all others the heaviest sentence, as it has the least excuse; so that the inflictions upon Ephraim for this one thing form a continued commentarj'^ of this truth. For this the divine arrows have so often been sent abroad ; for this the firm earth hath been shaken to its centre, hath opened her mouth, and such numbers of its inhabitants have gone down quick into hell, wickedness being among them; for this "the floods have lift up their voice, the floods have lift up their waves," and overwhelmed those who thought they stood beyond its highest mark ; for this " the pestilence hath often walked in darkness," and hand in hand * Lord Chesterfield. Vide his Letters, ad finem- with " the sickness that destroyeth at noonday," gorging even the voracity of death, and more than peopling "the house appointed for all living;" and for this war hath also depopulated their crowded cities, and desolated the once fertile plains, while pale famine, in its rear, hath exterminated the small residue of what " these locusts had spared." All these things happened unto them be- cause He was wroth ; and they were, as the psalmist expresses it, " the blasting of the breath of his hot displeasure." And when these " woes are past," say ye with the uplifted trumpets, and the full-charged vials of the Almighty's wrath, (Rev. viii. 2 ; xvi. 1,) is there yet " another wo to come ?" Supposing all your visitations over ; is it possible for us to conceive any thing to exceed the visible and felt judgments of an almighty God ■? Yes ! there is, as to its ultimate effect, a "sorer punishment for sin," a sadder proof of righteous indignation, and something more, perhaps, to be depre- cated than the heaviest inflictions of his hand. And what is that ? It is the clos- ing of his heart, the saying, " Do not strike, alarm, or threaten; chastise him not ; give him not over into the will of his enemies ; but give him up (which is worse) give him up to his own heart's lusts, and to follow his own desires ;" give him up to himself. ^^ Ephrai/n is joined to idols: let him alone !" We shall notice, II. The JUDGMENT upon Ephraim, or the PUNISHMENT of hts crime. In its primary signification, the text is, perhaps, to be understood as an admoni- tion to Judah not to hold any familiar intercourse with idolatrous and backslid- ing Israel, similar to the injunction of our Lord to his disciples, respecting the scribes and Pharisees in his day — " Let them alone; they be blind leaders of the blind," &c. But it is of most importance to con- sider the words (what, in fact, they eventually proved to be) as a sentence of dereliction, and which still hangs over this once highly favoured nation. God hath left them alone, and with an hitherto impenetrable " veil upon their hearts," EPHRAIM'S IDOLATRY 425 for a long night, now approaching to near two thousand years. As a people they have " dwelt alone, and not been numbered among the nations :" tribes of " the wandering foot and weary breast," ye have no country, no place to call your home ! Yet, O Israel, though " thy house be left unto thee desolate," gross as is thy ignorance, inveterate as is thy pre- judice, incurable as seems thy blindness, stubborn as is thy pride, and invincible thine unbelief, yet thou, even thou, "wilt not be left alone for ever :" there is hope in thy latter end, and great shall be the peace, and high will be the privilege of all thy children ! To ourselves, however, as we are show- ing, the subject has an aspect, and the threatening has a voice no less than to the Jews. For, notwithstanding, and considered as a nation, so far from leaving us alone, it cannot be forbidden us to think or say, God hath not dealt so with any other nation ; sometimes indeed, dis- ciplining us by afflictions, but far more generally following us with mercies, and " drawing us by the cords of love." Yet from these very circumstances, if we feel inclined to strengthen ourselves in a false security, we shall but bring upon ourselves increased punishment, as the added culture of the vineyard of the Lord of hosts appears to be the assigned cause why "its hedge also should be broken down," and why " the clouds" from above were forbidden to communicate their invigorating influences. (Isaiah v. 3—6.) Let him alone ! The phrase is evi- dently elliptical, and leaves something to be supplied. It is addressed to some one or more, but to whom expressly is not said. It is spoken to intelligences we do not see, and it is heard and attended to, probably, by those of whom we have no knowledge — invisible agencies and un- earthly forms ! Suppose we stand amidst the hallowed circle and obedient hosts, and notice only such as we either know or have been instructed to consider or perso- nify as the instruments of the Almighty's purpose, hearkening to the word, and accomplishing all his will and pleasure 1 Suppose it said, Vol. I.— 54 Angels ! let him alone. Stand no longer " in the path of this son of Bozor, who so loveth the wages of unrighteous- ness." Let not his foot be crushed against the wall, but let him reap the harvest that he soweth. Let him pro ceed " as the ox to the slaughter," and as the fool to the correction of the stocks ; let his way be dark and slippery, and let his steps take hold on hell. And thus those sacred watchers heard, and answered, and obeyed, who had hitherto attended in the temple at .Jeru- salem. The historian of the Jews relates, that a little before its final overthrow by Titus, and while the priests were minis- tering, who " by night stood in the house of the Lord," that at that solemn mid- night hour, strange voices were heard within the holiest place, when no forms were seen, and where no human agency might enter. And that they said, " Let us go hence !" intimating that now their angelic guard was fled, and " Ichabod, their glory, was departed." Providences ! let him alone. Adverse and afflictive as ye are esteemed when often "kind heralds sent in love," ye shall no longer call him " in the day of adversity to consider." Break not upon the slumber of his soul ; let him no more be scared by visions, nor disquieted by dreams; let no terrors make him afraid, nor corrections make him humble, nor disappointments keep him safe. Let him alone to pull down his barns and build greater, and interrupt him not in the re- quiem he is singing to his soul. Let him alone to " prosper upon the earth, and gain riches in possession." Let him alone to riot by day in the palaces of luxury, and repose at night in the pavilion of magnificence. Let him alone to " crown himself with rose-buds, and chant to the sound of the viol, and boast himself, that to-morrow shall be as this day, and yet more abundant." Ministers of the sanctuary! let him alone. " Moses and Aaron among his priests, and Samuel among his prophets." And to you it hath been so spoken — " Pharaoh's heart is hardened ;" there- fore ye may say to him at your last inter- view, " Thou hast well (or truly) said ; 2n3 426 TriE BRITISH PULPIT. for I will see thy face no more." And again, " How long wilt thou mourn for Saul, seeing I have rejected him from be- ing king of Israel 1 And Samuel came no more to see Saul until the day of his deatli !" And though with the prophet, they cannotcease to mourn for "the ungodly," and (not having received an injunction so particular and express) we must continue to warn the unruly, to reprove the disobe- dient, to resist the gainsaying, no less than to invite the unworthy, and entreat even the rebellious ; yet if the holy and blessed Spirit of God shall cease to strive with man through these appointed means ; if God himself deny his aid, though the arrows of conviction should still continue to be discharged in a rich profusion, and the sword of the Spirit be wielded, and we should still cry, the sword of the Lord and Gideon, these weapons will not enter between the joints of the harness, nor penetrate the shield of the mighty ! The trumpet of our jubilee may not cease to sound, but the captive will not be awakened from his slumber, nor leap to lose his chains ! The alarm in Zion may still be heard, and the wind that shall shake the mountains, and the fire that can rend the rocks, may attend it; but if the Lord be not in these, oh, Avho shall make the sinner tremble; what shall bring him from his cave, and " covered with his own confusion," as with a man- tle ! Especially, when, under circumstances like these, we suppose the interdiction to be addressed to what is put within the man as well as what stands without the citadel ; for we conceive it spoken, too, to what has been aptly termed God's vicegerent in the breast. It has been said, Conscience! let him alone. And the deputy hath heard, and answered, and acquiesced. It hath retired from its post, it hath demolished its reverberating echo, it hath lost its former voice. Thus Felix found conscience let him alone ; for often as he heard, it should seem that he trembled only once. Or, like another deputy, henceforth it is " a Gailio, caring for none of -these things." Even for a season we find, that the heart of David, lately so tender, trou- bled and smote him when he offered the least indignity to the worthless Saul, only because he had been the Lord's anointed, now, " let him alone" for many months under those complicated crimes, the remembrance of which so embittered the remainder of his days. Many other characters or agencies might be introduced, had not our time been already much exceeded ; such as af- fectionate friends, pious relatives, honour- able feelings, &c. We only add, and it may include the means of grace. Ordinances.' let him alone. Ye moun- tains of Zion, and whither the tribes go up to worship, and thou little hill Her- mon or Mizar among the rest, be ye henceforth to this hypocrite in heart as the mountains of Gilboa, on which there shall be no dew. Or when it shall copi- ously descend on others, let it be to him as what Gideon saw, that his fleece continues dry ! Let the fruitful land become a wilderness, and to him let the well of sal- vation be without water, and the cloud that returns have neither refreshment nor rain ! Need we seek for instances to illustrate this ? We refer, once for all, and beyond all this, to the head-astound- ing and heart-appalling malediction on the sacrifices of Doeg and of Judas — " And let his prayer be turned into sin." Ps. cix. 7. And now, my Christian brethren, with- out enlarging further, you cannot, me- thinks, but come to this conclusion, that, what some seem to have been labouring for all their lives, and others venture only to desire (for it is the secret wish of many a heart) is, that in some way or other, they could sin decently and yet with more impu- nity ; proceed to greater lengths, with fee- bler checks and fewer fears ; that, instead of this being a consummation devoutly to be wished, we have proved it to be the most dreadful calamity that could possi- bly befall them ; and, to adopt the strik- ing words of a modern author, it may eventually be " worse than instant death and an immediate hell, because the longer life, the longer sin; and the longer course of sin, the heavier curse !" And EPHRAIM'S IDOLATRY. 427 this witness is true, for it is the award of the heapcd-up wrath against the day of wrath, and the curse upon the Aniorite, whose iniquity is full. On the one hand, then, let none rejoice, in consequence of any truce with their afflictions, any victory over their fears, or any exemption from their former ap- prehensions, unless it arise from truly scriptural grounds. And, On the other, let none despair, because they are so troubled and perplexed ; or that since Jehovah seems to have a con- troversy with them, that therefore he must hate them. O, no ; the convictions of sin, when under the influences of his most holy and gracious Spirit, are preparatory to sweetest consolations from the same. Despair of salvation by any other way than through the atoning blood and jus- tifying righteousness of our God and Saviour, is the day-spring from on high visiting us, and which always dawns on the darkest hour of our former night ! O, if we are but chastened, surely it is that we should not be condemned with the world. " Correct me, then, O Lord, but not in thine anger; rebuke me, but not in thy hot displeasure." Psalm vi. 3. Say any thing of or to thy servant, rather than let him alone. Therefore, and to conclude, that our meditations may not sit beneath a cloud ; while we congratulate real Christians on the happy choice they have made, and exhort all to walk worthy of the high and holy prefession into which they have been called, we will not renounce all hope even as to this Ephraim, no, not wliere otherwise his state might seem most dangerous. So far from it, that were the reference made (which it is not intended that it should be made) to ourselves only, as British subjects, and members of that pure and apostolical part of Christ's church established in the British realm, I bless God for the very different and cheer- ing prospect this day seen, and in this very place, from what myself witnessed, above three-and-thirty years ago ! We are warranted to hope that already at least a sheaf or two are suffered to intimate, that one day, even these fields (the Champs Elysees) will be white unto a future and a glorious harvest. Already are several excellent men of different denominations labouring in the word and in doctrine, and through the good providence of our God, and his putting it into the heart of " a brother, whose praise is in all the churches," for " devising liberal things" (the Rev. Lewis Way,) you, my re- spected hearers, are here supplied by the regularly and episcopally-ordained min- isters of your own establishment, and may and do "sing the Lord's song," though in a strange land. O neglect not such advantages ; turn not away from such a service ; " forsake not the assem- bling of yourselves together, as the man- ner of some is." Let it not be said that you have left your religion (if you had a religion to leave) on the other side the channel. The land of your fathers you cannot forget; you are no doubt pleased with the recollection this day of "the sound of her church-going bell," her in- fant schools, her villages spires, and her rustic minstrelsy, as well as of her clois- ters pale, her lofty temples, and her full- voiced choir; but, and above all, rejoice in her religious privileges, as a land of Bibles, and for her so signally possessing that treasure, even the glorious gospel, which alone ennobles what is mean, and consecrates what is exalted. Show, then, that you remember them still ! Say, with the devout psalmist, " If I for- get thee, 0 Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning : if I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ; yea, if I prefer not Jerusa- lem above my chief joy." Ps. cxxxvii. 5, 6. Here we thought to end. But where have we left Ephraim 1 We must tres- pass yet a very little longer, and however otherwise, as much against our will, as it can be against any of your wishes : for concerning this very Ephraim, we will not despair, but rather hope that, " at evening time it may be light to him !" For we know that he who spake from Sinai, ever speaks to us from Calvary ; that he long "whets his glittering sword," before he gives it leave to smite ; as his distant thunders threaten, that his nearer , lightnings may not harm. 428 THE BRITISH PULPIT. If one of these children of Ephraim be here present, though " grey hairs be upon him," and he is thus old in sin, it is a proof, we trust, that even he is not left to himself, or to reap the wages of his work ! God forbid that he should ! And to this end may he especially bless this final application of the subject, by permitting and sanctioning the transferring or inver- sion of its terms ! Go yet again, (we think we hear him say,) and proclaim my words — " O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself, but in me is thy help found" — " how shall I give thee up, Ephraim 1 how shall I deliver thee, Israel 1 How shall I make thee as Admah 1 how shall I set thee as Zeboim ? My heart is turned within me, my repent- ings are kindled together !" Go yet again, (he seems to saj' to all his hosts,) clad with new zeal, and armed with fresh power ! Let my Spirit strive, my servants plead, my ministers attend, my dispensations teach, and my appoint- ments strengthen ! Therefore, " go yet again." Ye angels ! who excel in strength, go return to your encampments, as Maha- naim, or God's host, and "having minis- tered, still do minister." Ye who so exult over the returning prodigal, ye shall rejoice over the repentant Ephraim. Again shall Gabriel sing, and Ilaphael strike his golden harp ! Earth, earth, earth ! hear ye the word of the Lord, in all my providences, which. like " seed-time and harvest, shall not fail," but continually teach mankind. The voice of judgments shall sound abroad, and the lessons from my merciea will be obeyed. Preachers of my loord ! " Watchmen on the walls, give me no rest until I esta- blish Jerusalem," and restore again the outcasts of Israel ! resume your stations, plead and weep between the porch and altar. Intermit not your labours, neither be weary of your work. " Go yet again, and preach the preaching that I bid you." Erect the glorious standard, unfurl the bloodstained banner, bear aloft the con- secrated sign. Set the trumpet to your lips, proclaim the gladly solemn sound ! Seals shall be given to your ministry, and souls awarded for your hire! And thou, Omscience ! Be thou " sprink- led with atoning blood," to keep thee pure ; active in thy office, and faithful to thy trust ; preserved from evil, and pre- pared for bliss ! While to the worship- pers in Zion it is also said, — " I have not forsaken the place where mine honour dwelleth : go up to Bethel, that I may meet and bless thee there. Let not the fire upon mine altar be extinguished, nor the symbols of my presence be any more withdrawn ; but let refreshing from the same be vouchsafed, and the inscription read on this and every sanctuary erected to the glory of my name — Jehovah Shammah ! the Lord thy God is there." — "To whom," &c. Amen. CONTRASTS. There was strange pomp and revelry In the chieftain's splendid hall : — Sweet song — gay dance — and minstrelsy At the gorgeous festival. Pride kindled in the noble's eye, — " What power shall dare endeavour To mar our bliss — guests, pledge we high, Our pleasures live — for ever!" There was gloom, and \yant, and suffering In the peasant's lowly cot, Hard fare, keen pain, and sorrow's sting, Were the inmate's daily lot. Faith cheered the peasant's humble breast, — " Poor though I be — whenever I think of yonder heavenly rest, I feel I'm blest for ever!" I saw the lake of quenchless fires, And souls on its billow tost, — Despair — remorse which ne'er expires, The worm of the deathless lost. Grief fdled my bursting heart, — I cried, " Shall this distress end never?" — The shrieks of millions loud replied, "These pangs endure — for ever I" I saw the countless, happy throng In the blissful regions high ; — White robe.s — gold crowns — and lofty song With tlieir harps in harmony. Hope brightened at that dazzling sight — " Shall aught from heaven sever ?" And myriads sung — " Our peace, joy, light And glory, last for ever." SERMON XLVII. THE INQUIRING LAWYER. BY THE LATE REV. ADAM CLARKE, LL.D. " And, behold, a certain lawyer stood tip, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life ? He said unto him. What is written in the law ? how reudest thou ? And he answering said. Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind ; and thy neighbour as thyself. And he said unto him. Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shall live." — Luke x. 25 — 28. You see that our blessed Lord has put [ the creed of a Christian into a very nar- row compass : and in such phiin words, that it is impossible for the very plainest Christian not to understand the meaning] of it. And yet there is a depth in these words that requires the deepest attention, and the exercise of the most extensive powers. So it is, indeed, with all the words of God; and especially with those in which he sums up our duty and our interest, our prosperity in this world, and our glory in that which is to come. If these words be correct, we may judge at once of the spirit in which we should receive them : and though we may sup- pose the words to have been used by a captious person, yet it must be remem- bered that the words were not framed by that person, but are a quotation of the words of the Most High; and words which Christ, in the most solemn man- ner, has incorporated with his gospel. L Let us look into the circumstances CONNECTED WITH THESE WORDS. We find that our Lord was nearly alone, or engaged in private conversation with his disciples. He speaks as one struck with the astonishing provision made by God for the welfare of mankind ; and it was well known to him, for it was through him that such provision had been made, and he was now engaged in giving instructions as to that provision. " And he said, Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see !" They had seen the Messiah : he it was that now con- versed with them. They had beheld his miracles, and were convinced that " in him dwelt the fulness of the Godhead bodily," for none could do what he did, who had not unlimited power. They had heard also the words that dropped from his gracious lips ; and especially that new commandment, which was con- tained indeed in the Old Testament, but which had now come to them in a way it had not come to their fathers ; namely, that they should love God with the whole of their powers; and also, that they should love one another. And yet, my friends, our eyes and our ears have been more blessed still ! We have heard more of the nature of the dis- pensation of blessedness, and of the sal- vation of hundreds and millions of souls by means of that dispensation, than they ever heard. Many things were after- wards made known to them, of which they had no previous conception ; and it appears as though it were necessary that only general outlines of truth should be given them, till Christ had filled up the scheme of prophecy, till he had offered himself as the great atonement, till he had opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers, and till his Spirit had been sent down in such copiousness as had never before been known in any age of the world. 429 430 THE BRITISH PULPIT. He tells them that "kings and great men desiied to see these things, and did not see them ; and to hear these things, and did not hear them." And I have often been much afi'ected while reading what Peter says on this subject. He in- timates that the prophets were sent to publish glad tidings which should be made known to the nations of the earth. " Of which salvation," he says, " the prophets have inquired and searched dili- gently. Searching what the Spirit of Christ which was in them did signify, when it testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ and the glory that should fol- low." And the part that affected me most was this; that they understood that "?!(;/ unto themselves, but unto us they did minister" those things, when they pro- claimed the coming of .Tesus Christ, his passion and death, and the glory that should follow his manifestation in the flesh. So that with all their wisdom and all their inquisiliveness, though they knew enough for their own individual salvation, they had not that full revela- tion which we enjoy. And the apostle goes on to say, " Which things the angels desire to look into." The original ex- pression is very strong; it is a stooping down towards the object, so as to take the full advantage of the strongest sight — an opening and expanding of the pupil of the eye as far as possible. It is ex- pressive of their desire to have the most distinct conception of the things which God had revealed, and was about to reveal, to the world. So that ive compre- hend the scheme of salvation, and all that is necessary to our individual salva- tion, in measures beyond what was known to them. Well, then, may a preacher say to a congregation of believing Chris- tians, Blessed are your eyes and your ears, for you have seen and heard such things as prophets and kings had not seen and heard ; and you have had such views of God's love in its extent, and in its power- ful influence on the souls of naen, as none ever had before, and I am apt to think were not felt by any of those good men ; God having reserved these full displays for the tiaie when his Spirit should be poured out, and the followers of Christ be taught those things wliicL were not io be learned even under his own ministry. " A certain lawyer,''^ it is said, " stood up," &c. The word " lawyer" is not understood by most readers : it means a man who was well acquainted with the law of Moses, and all the rites and cere- monies connected with it; and also with all those laws and instructions which were added by the chief doctors of the Jewish church. They knew not only the precepts of the law of Moses, which was written, but also all the particulars of the oral law, — that part which was supposed by the Jews to have been delivered by God to Moses, and by Moses to Aaron, and by Aaron to his sons, by word of mouth ; and which the Jews believe to exist in the Mishnah and the Talmuds. The lawyers had not only to tell the peo- ple that there were such and such laws ; they had also to unfold their true import. For this purpose, the book of Deutero- nomy was given : this teaches plainly the spirit and design of the law; contain- ing, as it were, a second edition of that law. The letter of the law was first given ; and then the book of Deuteronomy, to illustrate and show the spiritual mean- ing of that law : and it is remarkable, among other things, that the rite of cir- cumcision was interpreted, in that second edition, in such a spiritual way, that all who attended to it were reminded of the necessity of having all that was impure and unholy removed ; so that the seeds of holiness might be well rooted, and abun- dant fruit be brought forth to the praise and glory of God. I have observed that this man is often spoken of as a captious person — as one that lay at the catch, and wished to entrap our Lord. But I believe that scheme had long since been given up. The Jews, generally speaking, were convinced that he was " a teacher come from God ;" and that all attempts to entangle him in his talk would be utterly vain. The opinion I have referred to is entertained of this lawyer, because it is said that he " stood up, and tempted" Christ. But that word means also to try — to examine — to ascer- tain how far his knowledge and his piety went; how his temper would bear out THE INQUIRING LAWYER. i3l and so on. I should rather conceive of him as a humble inquirer after truth. He asks one of the most important questions which a man could ask, who knew that he had an immortal spirit, who was con- scious that he had sinned against his Maker, and who knew that he could not cleanse that impure fountain from whence the various streams of evil had flowed. I think it quite impossible that such a man could ask such a question in a tri- fling or in a captious manner. He said, " Master, what shall I do to inherit eter- nal life 1" My brethren, have you a more important question to put to your God T " Master, I acknowledge thy wisdom ; I submit to thy authority. I come to thee, though I am a teacher, and have to ex- plain the law to the people. I declare my willingness to come to thee, that I may learn the way of salvation for my immortal soul." And, mark again: — he speaks as one who knew that there was an eternal state ; that in that eternal state his immortal spirit might be wretched or happy ; and that, in that state, the misery must be ex- treme, and the happiness also extreme. It was, therefore, very important to know how, in that state, a man might have the happiness of which heart could not con- ceive ; and escape that wretchedness and misery which, from being eternal, must be extreme. But let us not look at this man merely. I have a right to believe this of you also. You are seriously inquiring, I would hope, " What shall I do to inherit eternal life ■? I am a creature of a day; I know not what an hour may bring forth ; I am a mere tenant at will under the supreme governor of the creation : I cannot bear the thought of dwelling in eternal burnings ! What shall I do to inherit eternal life V Objections have been raised against this man, because he said, " What shall I rfo?" " Oh, yes!" say a certain class of people, " he was a work monger — he wanted to merit eternal life?" And who warranted them to say so 1 Before per- sons make such objections as these, it would be well for them to examine care- fully th^ir Bibles, and endeavour to as- certain their meaning ; and not hastily to suppose, because a man cannot pronounce the shibboleth of their creed, that his inquiries proceed from a guilty hard- ness and indifference of heart. I have heard many such things said, and I pity those who say them : they display but little of the spirit of Christians. " What shall I do," said this man, " to inherit eternal life?" The very words show that the mind of the man was enlightened. He knew that he must have meetness for that eternal life, or he could not inherit it ; that, if he would inherit it, he must first be one of the family : that it belonged only to the children ; and that, if he were not of the family of heaven, he could not inherit the kingdom of God. " What shall I do to inherit this life ? I am con- scious that I cannot have it otherwise; it must come to me in consequence of my being united to the family : I know that I do not belong to the family, in a way of natural holiness, or by having walked in all the statutes and ordinances of the Lord blameless; I know that I have sinned, and come short of the glory of God, and that 1 can only have this title to the in- heritance of eternal life in the way of adoption, I want, therefore, to be taken into the family, to be associated with it, incorporated into it, and share the kind- ness and love of the Father of this family." This is what we call adoption : when, in consequence of the merits of Christ, who died for sinners, and was given for the salvation of men, he who believes is ac- counted one of the family of God, receives the forgiveness of his sins, and has the Spirit of holiness implanted in his heart. Such persons God puts among the chil- dren, and they become interested in all the promises God has made to such. Observe : this man does not ask, " W"hat shall / believe to inherit eternal life ?" And yet, if some hao found him using these words, how would they have been struck with wonder at his correctness and wisdom ! " It shows," they would say, " that he was well aware of his own state ; that he knew well he could do nothing; and therefore he asks. What shall I be- lieve ?" But I believe that if he had done so, he would have spoken incorrectly. And who is he that dares intimate, that 432 THE BRITISH PULPIT. he meant "What shal I do to merit iti" No : I will venture to pledge myself, that no such idea ever entered into this man's heart ! No : he came to the teacher, and he says, " What shall I do to inherit eter- nal life] How shall I go about it? I feel myself eternally undone if I get not this meetness ; and how shall I obtain it]" We often use the words in this way ; and the language denotes illumi- nation of mind, and intention of heart. " What shall I do] I know that I must have it ; and what means shall I use to get it] How shall I act]" Now, if we were to hear a man inquiring in this way, we should say, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ" — " Lay hold on the hope set before you in the gospel" — " Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unright- eous man his thoughts," And all this we are fully justified in saying; and all this is necessarily implied in the answer made by our Lord to this man. H. And now, brethren, are you pre- pared to fix your minds fully on that an- swer ] I am aware that it requires much reasoning — much argumentation and im- pressive speaking, to get a man to enter fully into the scope and design of any particular subject. He hears the truth, but he does not feel it. I say, then, we are all on the verge of eternity ; we must soon " die, and be as water spilled upon the ground, which cannot be gathered up again." We have all " sinned and come short of the glory of God ;" and we may be assured, that if God has given us a time of probation, and we do not use it to the end for which God has given it, we shall, without doubt, perish everlastingly! It is not a vain thing, therefore. And again, our hoping and trusting that the inheritance will be ours, can do \)ut little good ; we must have a right to the inhe- ritance, or we shall never see God's hea- ven. We have no natural right : we must have it by adoption ; and this can be alone through the endless mercy of God in Christ. Right and meetness are both necessary. There was a good thought in the mind of a strange man, who a few years ago flourished in this city. He imagined that all souls, when they left this world, would go to heaven; but that the souls of the wiched, astounded at what they saw, would immediately flee, and tumble themselves headlong into the pit of corruption ; and because they wera not prepared for happiness, they would plunge themselves into misery. And really, if an unregenerate man could enter heaven, he would have no heart for it: his mind is not framed for its enjoyments, but the reverse. The being in such a place would be hell to him ; it may be a heaven to the blessed, but its happiness is of a nature that he cannot enjoy. The question, then, is, how are we to be regenerated ] How are we to get this title — this meetness for eternal life ] Our Lord answers, 1. "What does the law say]" and 2. "How dost thou under- stand what the law says on this point]" " What does thy Bible say, and how dost thou read it ] What are thy views and ap- prehensions on this subject] How dost thou suppose thyself to be concerned in all this ]" The man most intelligibly answered, " Thus it is written ; thus I un- derstand it : ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind ; and thy neighbour as thyself.' This I understand to be the highest privi- lege, the bounden duty, of a rational crea- ture." And our Lord said unto him, "Thou hast answered right; this /s the sum, the substance, ofall true religion; this do, and thou shalt have this eternal life." He was " willing to justify himself.''^ In this he showed the ardent working of his mind towards this title, this meetness for eternal life. He could not bear the idea of being destitute of this. We may see from this what a difficult thing it is, humanly speaking, for the Spirit to bring us to see our real state : to the very last we are prone to indulge a hope that our case is not so desperate as the representations of the gospel seem to imply ; it is long be- fore we can be brought to see and feel that we are totally lost. He was ready and "willing to justify himself; and he said unto Jesus, And who is my neigh- bour ] I know my God, the Being whom I should love with all my heart, and soul, and mind, and strength ; and who is this other being, whom I should love even as THE INQUIRING LAWYER. 433 I love myself]" Our Lord then gives him the little history which is generally known by the name of " The good Sama- ritan ;" and leads him on to conclude what was his real state, both in reference to his God, and in reference to his neigh- bour. Now further, brethren ; for there is much remains behind. Here is a Being set before us in these words, who is called " God" — " the Lord" — Jehovah — the High and Holy One ; and so on. He is the Creator of the earth, and of all crea- tures. He is the Sovereign, who pro- duced all things by the word of his power, and who upholdeth all things by the same word. He is your Creator; and he is also the great cause of your preservation. He is the self-existent — the Eternal — the independent. All that is made is pro- duced by him, and depends upon him ; and therefore all should acknowledge him as the source of all, the Creator of body and soul, the Preserver of both. As your Creator, he has shown the riches of his wisdom and power in both ; and he has shown his benignity and kindness in preserving you. You are not to forget to think on him in reference to his oiun infinite excellencies and perfections : but you are not now called upon to take these views of him ; but rather to consider this sacred Being, so incomprehensible both to men and to angels, in reference to your- selves. He is your Creator ; — the cause of your being. He is your Supporter ; — upholding all things by the word of his power. There is not a morsel of bread that you eat, which comes not from him as the Creator and Preserver. He alone " causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herbs for the service of man." He alone produces the rich varieties of fruits and of vegetables for the benefit of man. He alone causes the same soil to produce at once verdure, and odours, and fruitfulness. He alone causes the sun to shine; and whatever we ascribe to its influence in causing trees and plants to grow to matu- rity, his power gives the sun that ability. And whatever it may have contributed to the comfort and support of man, all comes from him alone ; and if for one moment he were to take his hand from that sun, it Vol. I 55 would sink into its primitive state — that state out of which God called it by his omnific word. And if God had not sup- ported and upheld all according to the counsel of his own will, men could not have had that suitable food and clothing, in the various climates, with all their va- rious temperatures, with which they are so blest. God made and supports all ; — so that wherever a human being is found, that human being owes his life to God, and his continuance in being to that great Preserver. Even in redemption, it is im- possible to conceive of greater favour on the part of God. There we see the proofs of his mercy in pardoning our sin, and so on ; but I will not say that this is greater. It was a proof of his love, that he created beings capable of holding converse with himself; and when man fell, that same power and love which created him form- ed a plan for preserving and saving him. Hence Christ was made manifest in the flesh, and became " man with men" — not a prophet, not an angel, not a seraph, but a being such as God had never before made ; to manifest the highest effects of his eternal power, and to display the highest benefits that could he possessed. He comes into the world, and teaches men what God only could have revealed ; and exercises a power which God only could exercise, and which God could not communicate ; for an omnipotent being to appoint an omnipotent delegate is im- possible ; because he who delegates it must cease to be omnipotent, and so cease to be infinite and eternal. In God, as the Creator, therefore, we see the proofs of infinite skill and power ; and we behold his unrivalled beneficence, in his meeting and supplying all the wants which his creatures may feel. When we come to consider the redemption of man, we be- hold, indeed, a greater extension of the divine love ; but we discover no new feel- ing. Now, on this very consideration is es- tablished the command before us, "Thou shall love the Lord thy God — this very Being, who is thy Creator and Preserver." And if a sense of the highest obligation is allowed to affect those who are under that obligation; if we should love that 20 434 THE BRITISH PULPIT. Beingwhose kindness is so great — whose commands have reference to an object that is eternal — and whose fovour is the source of all blessedness ; then there is reason in the command, " Thuu shall lure the Lord fhy God." But what does this mean 1 I believe not one man in ten thousand, or in ten million, can explain this ! I have studied the subject most closely, and I cannot express its meaning; I cannot explain the feeling of love; I cannot explain the way in which it is produced — the mode of its internal operation — the way in which it catches hold — in which it seizes on all the powers of the mind. It is an affec- tion of the soul which ought to go out after God ; which should confess him to be supreme; which should lead us to give up our souls and our bodies, with all their powers, whatever they are, to him ; thus giving him evidence that we are not altogether insensible of our infinite obli- gations. Love has been defined as a disposition of mind which leads a person to be intensely satisfied tcith the oljcd of his affections. Now, if this can be said of love to man, how much more may it be said of love to God. This Being has all that I can pos- sibly want: all good, all kindness, all perfection, flows from him. I want this Being for my portion ; and if I can have him for my portion, I want no more. Here I can rest; and if I can say, " Thou art my portion, O Lord !" this is the highest word that I can speak — the high- est word that ever was spoken by mortal man. The conviction that he must be such, or that we are lost, is much ; but to feel that he is so, this is a great thing indeed ! Then, " thou shalt love the Lord thy God, 1. With all thy heart .''^ Whatever can be called by the name of heavenly feel- ino-, holy aspiration, spiritual wishes, is all included here. All divine breathings, all holy and benevolent purposes, all in- tense adoration and delight ; and this feel- ing must be supreme : it is the love of the whole heart. Love has all here, and leaves nothing behind. All the hopes, and inclinations, and desires, relate to jGod, and are regulated by him. But then, 2. This love does not consist in mere feeling; else we should be led into nu- merous errors : all the affections and de- sires of the soul might be taken up in heavenly raptures, to the neglect of grand and important parts of Christianity. This induced a good man, who differed from us in many points, to say, " What will it avail in the sight of the Most High, to go and fall down upon your knees before him, and to look up to him and say, 0, how excellent thou art, how pure, and how glorious ! Here let me worship and adore thee ! Here let me gaze for ever in admiration of thine excellencies ! Once feeding the hungry, or clothing the naked, or visiting the sick, would be in- finitely more acceptable to God, and avail able in his sight, than all the idle adora- tion you can offer him !" How, then, is the love of the heart to be proved ] Why, it is added, " Thou shalt love the Lord inith all thy soul" or rather, "with all thy life." This means, not only that the whole of our life should be employed in the service of God, but that the life itselt should be dedicated to God; that it should be given up to him, to employ it as he may see fit; and that we should be ready to finish our life in his service, should it be required. It is on this prin- ciple alone that there ever was a martvr in the church: they "loved not their lives unto the death," but freely yielded them up, when they were called to do so for the sake of God. We are not, at this moment, very far from the place where many of our forefathers and foremothers suffered in this way, at a stake, which I have seen, though the complaisance of our times has induced us to take it away, be- cause it seemed a reflection on the cruelty of our ancestors ; but at a stake in Smith- field, in the midst of flames, many yielded their lives to Him who was the object of their love, and the Father of their spirits. This is the very principle of martyrdom ; they dedicated their lives to God, and gave those lives up when it seemed ne- cessary— not only when they were called to die in the common way, but when their death seemed to be required by peculiar circumstances. 3. Fut forth all ihtKC energies ; love THE INQUIRING LAWYER. 435 God " with all th}' strength." Tliort: is ! chamber to chamber, to see the imager a great force in Ihougftf .■ sometimes it , that are set up ; I will reveal to thee all will lead a man to go from one place to that is abominable; and then I will tell anotlier, to accomplish a particular object; ! thee that I will famish all the false gods: at anothef time, all the various powers of j but thou must make an effort; thou must the man will be gathered up, and all will be brought into a focus, as it were, to act on a particular point ; and the man, fear- ing neither men nor devils, will trample Satan under his feet, and serve his God alone. Now, put forth all the energies of your minds thus in God's service : be not cold-hearted in God's work. If the devil can ever love, he loves such men ; and considers those as the most valuable supporters of his cause, who, while they profess to love God, put forth their strength for every thing but the service of God. Be careful, then, to exert all thy powers of body and soul in the ser- vice of the Lord thy God. Then, 4. Thou hast a mind also. " Love God with all thy mind.'''' The mind is that gate of the soul, by which God admits that light by which the judgment is able to decide positively and rightly. Thou shalt keep this gate open to receive that light which alone can teach thee what is right; and, what is also of high importance, thou shalt put out what is not proper or profitable. O, how much lumber have we laid up in that reposi- tory ! — how much trash that is unprofita- ble ! — how much impurity that we are afraid to mention I Labour to get rid of all this. One of the finest effects of the Holy Spirit's influence on the human mind, is expressed in that fine sentence in the communion service — " Cleanse the thoui^hts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy name." O, go to God, that he may cleanse thy mind ! God says that he will " purge away the filth of Zion, by the spirit of judgment, and by the spirit of burning." Li other words, I will pour light into thy soul ; I will lead thee from loathe these abominations; thou must cast away these idols to the moles and to the bats. Thou must give them up — not as a sacrifice to thy God, that is a most awful idea — but give them up to God, that they may be burned and destroyed for ever. Thus God condemns them as " a spirit of judgment," and destroys them as " a spirit of burning." Then it is added, " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. '^^ Mark ! it is not said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thy God. This is interesting : there is an intensity of thought and feeling in refer- ence to the love of God, that it would be evil, unholy, sacrilegious, to apply to our fellow-men. I am very glad that those thoughtless and profane words, which it was once very common to apply to wo- men, cease to be employed. To answer wicked ends, and to delude them in many cases to their ruin, poor women were set up in the place of God, and worshipped accordingly. This is nearly laid aside. " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thy- self.^'' " Love worketh no ill to his neigh- bour; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law." But what love do I owe to my neighbour? I owe him the love oi equity — of succour — of benevolence — of charity. I must aim to do him all the good I can ; to advance his interests ; to sympathize in his joys and sorrows ; to promote his welfare. " Love thy neighbour as thy- self:" whatever thou wouldst wish him to do for thee in ignorance — in weakness — in sorrow — in want — in danger, — that do thou fur him ; thy turn may be next. And again, God is the Father of all ; therefore we should love as brethren of the same family. He is the Lord, the Creator, the Judge of all ; and all are alike before him. SERMON XLVIII. AN IMPORTANT INQUIRY. BY THE REV. HENRY R AI KE S, A. M. CHANCELLOR Of THE DIOCESE OF CHESTER. " What do ye more than others ?" — Matt. v. 47. It has sometimes been asserted that there was a difference, a difference which was capable of being perceived, a differ- ence which it was important and neces- sary to mark, between the statements of divine truth which are contained in the several parts of the New Testament. In agreement with this notion, the gos- pels have been held up in distinction to the epistles. The discourses of our Lord have been described as differing in tone from the writings of his apostles. A se- parate and peculiar character has been ascribed to each, and the excellencies of one have been used to depreciate the glo- ries of the other. Moral truth has been claimed for one, doctrinal accuracy has been ceded to the other; and though it might seem hard to say how one of these qualities could be separated from the other, or how truth could be independent of itself, the pride of human reason has endeavoured to avoid the homage which was required by faith, by professing an earlier attachment, a more implicit devo- tedness to moral obedience; and by as- serting a preference of that which was practical in statement to that which was doctrinal. To favour this subterfuge the morality of the gospel has been held up to the admiration of the world by those who shrink from belief in its doctrines ; and men have acknowledged in our Lord " the teacher sent from God," who could not or who would not perceive in him the ' Lamb of God which taketh away the 436 sins of the world." In other cases, an attempt has been made to represent the instruction contained in the gospel narra- tives, as more simple and appropriate than that which is laid down in the epis- tles ; and that portion of Scripture, from which our text is taken, the sermon on the mount, has been described as includ- ing all that was necessary for man to know. We need not shrink from the conclusion. Let but this portion of Scripture be interpreted as it ought to be ; let it but be read with that spiritual mind and that eye of faith which is necessary ; and we may admit, that all that is need- ful for man to know may be discovered and discerned in it, or at least may be deduced from it. But because the expe- rienced eye may perceive in one part of Scripture the forms of that wisdom which is specifically revealed in other places, it is neither wise nor dutiful to reject the residue ; nor if one part of revelation sup- poses or anticipates the remainder, can that be a reason why the part should be used to supersede the whole. But we are also told that there are dif- ferences in men which require a different mode of teaching; that there is a child- hood in the spiritual life which requires milk for its nourishment, as Avell as a manhood or maturity of life which re- quires strong meat; and it is asserted that the former species of nourishment is to be found in the simpler statements and plainer exhortations which are contained AN IMPORTANT INQUIRY. 437 in the gospel narratives. It is there said 1 undoubtedly, and it should be read with ] thankfulness and praise, that our Lord " taught the people as they were able to bear it;" that he adapted his instruction to the state of his hearers, and communi- cated the truths which he came to teach, in the way of gradual disclosure. Some- thing of this process we may probably perceive in the tone of his discourses ; and whatever we may think of the re- corded statements of those discourses, such, we may confidently suppose, would have been the character of his ordinary teaching. But little does he know of the word of God or of the power of God, who can doubt the possibility of combining the simplest moral truth with the profoundest doctrinal verity ; of making the person taught " wiser than his teachers ;" and of " perfecting praise even out of the mouths of babes and sucklings." In the wisdom of God it is easy to accomplish that which seems impossible to man. He, who in the twilight of the morning opens that flood of light which is to spread the splendour of noon over the world ; he, who encloses in the infant the germ of those talents which are to wield the reins of empire; he, who once concealed the very glories of the Creator of the universe in the child Jesus ; he, can surely give instruction in a way, which shall adapt itself to every state of man ; can form out of the same material milk for babes, and strong meat for those of maturer age; and offer in his word a spiritual manna, which shall be suited to the taste, as well as adapted to the wants of all who feed upon it. Let it be admitted then, that in this memorable discourse there are truths presented of the simplest character and in the simplest form. That hinders not, but that truths of the profoundest nature may be likewise found there. Let it be supposed that our Lord addressed him- self on this occasion to a multitude of sim- ple and uninstructed hearers, and " spake as they could bear it." That hinders not, but that the most advanced Christian may find room for meditation, and im- provement in the words ; or that the wise man may be overwhelmed by truths which he meets with, and which his rea- son is unable to comprehend ; while the child, who reads in faith and in the spirit of prayer, shall be made " wise unto sal- vation" by what he learns. The text before us, the text to which your attention is to be drawn, presents an instance of this sort. It contains an appeal which might be made with pro- priety to the simplest hearer of the sim- plest gospel truths; an appeal, which we might make to any one, who had but the slightest acquaintance with the ele- ments of religion : and still it is an ap- peal, which I humbly believe may be made with profit to the most enlightened, the most advanced Christian. It is an appeal, which rises with the condition of the hearer ; and which grounded on the perpetual and necessary connexion between privilege and duty, follows man through all the degrees of his ad- vancement; and reminding him at every stage, " of the rock from which he was hewn, of the hole of the pit from which he was digged," subdues the pride and self-sufficiency of his nature by the me- morials of his dependence and responsi- bility. It is to this text then I have now to beg your attention ; and conscious that it involves an application of truth most important and most extensive, I entreat the prayers of those who hear me, that the weakness of man may be supplied by the teaching of the Spirit, and that the word may be blessed to all our souls. " What do ye more than others 1" Thus spake our Lord, at that time, to those who professed themselves his fol- lowers ; who had come to him out of Judea and Galilee ; who had expressed a resolution to renounce the sins of their former life, and to live as his disciples, " soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world." The appeal he made was founded on a principle which no man ventures to impugn; that increase of knowledge, larger measures of convic- tion, involve the necessity of more exact obedience ; that much is required from him to whom much has been given ; and that increase of means implies increase 2o2 438 THE BRITISH PULHT. of responsibility. This truth, simple as it seems, bears on itself the marks of eternity. It extends to every degree of state. It belongs to every age. The Jew, just awakened from the darkness which covered his people, heard it then; and the apostle, who had " seen things which it was not lawful for man to utter," might have heard it afterwards ; and each might have bowed under the sense of a responsibility which they could not deny. The Christian child feels its power now when a mother's exhortations are based upon its application ; and the Christian minister must not hope to soar above its reach, however elevated he may be above others in spiritual or intel- lectual advancement. As such then I would use it first in re- ference to Christians generally, in refer- ence to all those who profess the gospel of Jesus Christ, and are in name and pri- vileges considered as his disciples ; I would use it first in this sense, and say to all who hear me, " What do ye more than others'?" If God has chosen you from all the nations of the world, to be a peculiar peo- ple to himself; if we are justified by the name you bear, and the knowledge you possess, and the covenant relations in which you stand, in addressing you as " a chosen generation, a royal priest- hood, a holy nation, a peculiar people :" If God has opened to you things hidden from the foundation of the world ; if your eyes see, and your ears hear, the things which prophets and kings desired to see and did not see, and to hear and did not hear : nay, if we may say to some, " eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him ; but God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit :" If we are permit- ted to address a Christian congregation, a Christian people, in terms like these ; then must we not add ; if God has done so much for you above all the other chil- dren of Adam, what do ye more than they 1 In the heathen world, amidst much that was evil, much that was loathsome, there were not wanting " things lovely 2nd of good report." They had their splendid sins. They had, it is true, but a faint and clouded light to walk by ; the dim light of human reason, darkened by all the exhalations from the corrupt na- ture of man ; and it was by this faint and feeble help they endeavoured to discern amidst the tumult of the world, the es- sential diflTerences between right and wrong. But to the guidance that they had, some of them were faithful. The natural affections were not extinguished ; a sense of truth was felt ; the excellence of purity was admitted ; and in the midst of general defilement and wretch- edness, the eye dwells with wonder on some bright spots of disinterested integ- rity and warm affections, and marvels how it was that they who knew so little should do so much. If then we turn to a Christian commu- nity, and find men satisfied with those external observances which self-interest suggests as expedient; if we find a no- minal disciple of Jesus Christ dwelling with complacency on the soberness of his habits, on the integrity of his deal- ings, on the warmth of his natural affec- tions ; may we not say to such as these, did not even the heathen so 1 Do we not hear of well ordered societies, and at- tached families ; of the charities of parent and child, of husband and wife, of sove- reign and subject, among them 1 Nay, do we not hear of integrity and temper- ance, of exemplary self-denial and emi- nent purity of conduct among those who had never enjoyed the light of gospel truth, or been encouraged by the promise of eternal life; and if this be so, what do ye more than they 1 What do ye, who have received so much, and who have heard so much ; what do ye more than others'? What does this Christian coun- try, this Christian family, this Chrisuan husband, this Christian father, this Chris- tian son, offer in his conduct, which might not find its parallel in Greece or Rome ; among those who never heard the sound of the gospel, nor tasted the sweetness of Christian privileges'? Are you sober 1 So were they. Are you honest 1 So were they. Are you tender in domestic relations, faithful to trusts, diligent and useful ■? So were AN IMPORTANT INQUIRY. 439 they. And if your standard of Christian practice is limited to these cold morali- ties, or to these impulses of natural feel- ing, " What do ye more tlian others," or how do the children of light differ from the children of darkness 1 I would carry the application of the doctrine farther. I would carry it next to Protestant Christians, to members of the church of England, to those who conceive that by the reformation they have shaken off a yoke of bondage, have regained their spiritual privileges, and are restored to the liberty, the glorious liberty of the children of God. In reject- ing the traditions of men ; in making Scripture the test to which every state- ment of truth is to be brought ; in taking the word of God, the pure and undefiled word, as the rule we are to follow, we seem to have struggled into light, to have recovered the free exercise of reason, and to have left the regions of darkness behind us. If this, then, be the case with regard to privilege, with regard to knowledge, how stands the case with regard to prac- tice ] If the tree is known by its fruits ; if men look for grapes on the vine ; if they expect good fruit from the vineyard which boasts a goodly stock; what may they not expect from a church, which has thrown off the trammels of darker ages ; from a church, which has reverted to the earliest standards, and which is "built on the foundation of apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone ?" We may venture to assume that a purer faith, a clearer view of divine truths, will produce a purer practice, a higher moral standard ; just as ignorance and error gradually but surely lead to superstition, idolatry, and vice. If God then in his mercy has vouch- safed to us a light which is denied to other nations ; if we see the truth, and hold the truth, while others hardly see, or hardly hold it; what do we more than they ? What fruit can we show of the privileges bestowed ; or how have we improved the talent that has been committed to our trust ] To take one instance out of many, it is the boast of our church to have cleared the doctrine of justification from those erroneous views which the pride of hu- man reason and the hardness of the heart of man had formed upon it. We rejoice in asserting that "we are accounted righteous before God, only for the merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, by faith, and not for our own works or de- servings." Nay more, we repeat the assertion, and say, " That we are justi- fied by faith only, is a most wholesome doctrine, and very full of comfort." We delight to trace innumerable rays of truth concentrated in this statement of our church ; and to mark the way in which " God is shown to be just, and yet the justifier of them that believe on Jesus." But, my brethren, what is the result of this doctrine, and what is the efTect which this knowledge of the grace of God produces 1 Do we see the hearts of those who profess this doctrine, bowed down with a sense of the mercy that has visited them 1 Do we see our Protestant congregations worshipping in silent awe at the grace in which they stand, and lost in wonder at the freeness of the bounty, which has thus offered to those who believe, that which no labour of man could have obtained, no merits of man could have purchased 1 Do we see around us, do we feel within us, that peace with God which is named as the privilege, the inheritance of those who are justified by faith "? And is this faith, which we name, and name with reason, as the charter of our hopes, as the ground of our confidence, a fiiith which over- comes the world, which sanctifies the affections, and proves itself to be of God by the works which it does within us 1 We dare not assert, we would not say, that those from whom we have withdrawn, and who have not obtained those advantages we enjoy, are desti- tute of fruits of the Spirit. We know that devotedness and zeal, that love for God and love for man, have been beautifully exemplified in members of the church of Rome. We know that the piety of those, whose views of that grace of God which bringeth salvation, were indistinct and cloudy, has often beea 440 THE BRITISH PULPIT. found shining brightly and burning strongly. We know that their work and labour of love has been glorious and great, though they knew but little of that love which is made known to us ; and though they saw not all the freeness of the grace to which they trusted for re- demption, they have loved much in re- turn. But if we see their error, if we mourn over the blindness which has hap- pened to them in this respect, and wished that they were even as we are ; if we feel that in knowledge of the will of God, in acquaintance with the mysteries of his nature, and the riches of his grace, we stand immeasurably above them ; what do we more than they 1 What has been the result of our clearer light, of our deeper views ; or how have we shown by our works, the character of that purer faith by which we walk 1 Again, as Protestants we have re- nounced the vain distinctions which have been imagined as to sin. We know no dif- ference between mortal and venial. We believe that all unrighteousness is sin, and while we know that there is pardon for the greatest sin in the blood of Christ, we dare not promise ourselves impunity for the least, without it. Instead of trust- ing ourselves, therefore, with confidence to the snares of Satan, and venturing on actions of any questionable character ; we act as men who are not ignorant of his devices, and who know the danger that belongs to the slightest deviation from truth. We are taught to " abhor that which is evil," however extenuated by circumstances, and however trivial in appearance. We have known that God requires the whole heart, and the whole mind ; that he accepts no divided ser- vice ; is satisfied by no external homage or outward form ; but seeks " those to worship him, who worship him in spirit and in truth." There are others whose views are dif- ferent; who assert a distinction in the nature of sin, for which we find no autho- rity in Scripture ; and who lower its character by imagining that it is in the power of men to forgive it ; who think that alms-giving may do away with iniquity, or that a satisfaction may, in some degree, be made by man for the transgressions he has committed. W'e mourn over their error. We de- nounce their distictions as unscriptural and false. We can see the dishonour done to God; the wrong offered to the Saviour; the ruin of the soul, in the application of their system. We can see that the real character of sin, as an offence against God, is lost sight of by this statement. We can see that the value of the Re- deemer's sacrifice is depreciated by the terms on which forgiveness is ofi'ered. We can see that the whole'some horror of sin is diminished by this representation of its character, and that the soul is en- couraged to expose itself to dangers by the means of recovery which are offered. We can see all this, we can condemn the error under which they live, we can show its consequences ; but what do we more than they? In what respect does our clearer knowledge, our purer faith regu- late our practice ] or in what degree does it raise it above theirs ? Is self-denial more exercised 1 are the wanderings of the heart and the affections, those in- lets of evil, those occasions of falling, more assiduously watched, more dili- gently controlled 1 Does the graver view we take of sin lead to more of godly vigi- lance against its delusions, to more of godly sorrow for its influence, among us th^n among others ] or is not sin com- mitted as boldly, as presumptuously committed by those who believe that the blood of Christ was shed for its forgive- ness, as it is by those who think that they may purchase absolution for its commission ? Alas ! why are we enlightened by the light of truth, if we are not to see the ways of truth more clearly ] why are we enabled to see the deceitfulness of these distinctions which have been imagined by others, if we are not to maintain a more holy walk, a more heavenly conver- sation; or why are we to know more than others, if we are not to do more than they do ] But again, we believe that there is but one mediator between God and man — the Lord Jesus Christ. We believe that God has sent him forth to be the propiti- AN IMPORTANT INQUIRY. 44 stion for the sins of the whole world, so thai whosoever believeth in him should not perish, hut have everlasting life. There are some who deny this doctrine. There are others who, by dividing the honour of the work, extenuate and de- grade it. There are some who, denying the mediatorial office of our Lord, know him only as a teacher sent from God ; who, with a perverseness worse than that of Judaism, put this grace from them, and wilfully and ungratefully reject the greatest token of the love of God for man. There are others, who ascribe to our Lord only a part in the work which be- longs to him. Who associate the agency of others with his, and either address him through their mediation, or imagine that their intercession is to be combined with his. The mercy of God has deli- vered us from these errors. In Jesus Christ we see "the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the whole world." Li him we delight to trace that perfect sufficiency for the work which is ascribed to him, which alone gives reasonable confidence to our faith, and makes hope an anchor of the soul both sure and stead- fast. But if we thus see in Christ, what the Socinian does not see, or what the Ro- manist only sees imperfectly, what do we more than they ] What elfect has been produced on our hearts and lives by this clearer vision of the Redeemer's glories? If we look to Christ as our only refuge from the wrath to come, where is our diligence in making our calling and elec- tion sure in him 1 If we believe that there is but one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, why is he not more openly confessed 1 If we believe that his is the only name whereby we may receive health and salvation, why are we not more zealous for the en- largement of his kingdom ; why are we not labouring with greater diligence to bring others to the knowledge of the sal- vation that is in him ? Why is it not our object, personal as well as public, to extend the influence of the gospel ? Why are not the resources of this Protestant kingdom devoted to the one Redeemer's cause, and our commerce Vol. I.— 56 employed in carrying the light of truth to those nations that are yet in dark- ness 1 If we were ignorant of that value which the soul of man derives from the gospel history ; if we did not know that it was redeemed, not with corruptible things as gold and silver, but with the precious blood of Christ ; if we did not thus admit as the great article of our creed, a doc- trine which proves the inestimable value of the soul by the price paid for its re- covery; we might be justified in our in- difference to the spiritual state of others, and might say " Am I my brother's keeper]" Or, if we were satisfied by a mere external profession ; if we conceived that the performance of certain forms constituted religion, and placed men in the waj' of salvation ; we might be con- tented to behold our own population no- minally Christian, and might take uni- formity of profession as a substitute for unity of spirit. But we are raised above these errors. We have received the truth as it is in Jesus. We know that without Christ the man is lost; and that " except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." This we have received; this we profess; but " what do we more than others ]" We hear of multitudes living without God in the world. We see our own brethren perishing from lack of know- ledge. In the mean time, we know the freeness of the gospel call, the blessings that are promised, the grace that is given ; we know all this, we profess to believe all this, and yet, " what do we more than others T" But there is yet another application of the subject which the present occasion prompts, and to which I turn with still deeper feelings. We contemplate the light in which a Christian walks, the ad- vantages he possesses in means of grace and knowledge, beyond all that was en- joyed before; and feeling the connexion, the necessary connexion, between pri- vilege and duty, we are drawn to ask the question " what do ye more than others 1" In the case of Protestants, we see that light shining more clearly and more dis- 442 THE BRITISH PULPIT. tinctly than on other men ; we see it drawn from the source of light in tiie Scriptures ; we see it leading to a profes- sion more specific, and more distinctive ; and arg-uing, as in the former case, from increase of knowledge to a clearer sense of duty, and a higher tone of practice, we are compelled to compare the standard we see in them, with that which is main- tained in the world around them, and to ask again, " what do ye more than others 1" If the men who heard the preaching of John the Baptist in the wilderness were ordered to bring forth fruits meet for re- pentance : If the men who heard our blessed Lord were directed to deny themselves, and to take up their cross daily and follow him : If those who have been admitted into the church of Christ have promised to renounce the world, the flesh, and the devil : If every increase of light shows us more of the sin there is in man, and of the holiness there is in God ; and every Christian privilege comes charged with its propor- tion of responsibility ; then, what shall become of us, who are called to minister in the word, and who have offered our- selves to others as messengers from God to man 1 " Wo is me, for I am undone ; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of an unclean people;" were the words of Isaiah, when he saw the Lord in his glory, and looked on himself as the messenger whom the Lord would send. Such also must be the feelings of every one who thinks of the ministry of the gospel, and contemplates himself as the instrument employed. And yet we know, that when a live coal from the altar had been laid upon the prophet's lips, his tone was altered, his feelings were changed. The lan- guage of despair became that of confi- dence and hope ; and he who just before recoiled from the office proposed to him, exclaimed at once, " Here am I, send me!" And thus it is with us, my brethren. We know, that of ourselves we are not able even to think the thing t';at is right; and when we dwell upon the charge we are called to fill ; whf n we survey the nature of our office, its labours, its re- sponsibilities ; the consequences that must follow its discharge towards others, and towards ourselves; no language seems suited to the feelings of our hearts but that of the prophet, when he shrank with terror and dismay from the duty he was called to. " But our sufficiency is of God." We know that " we have this treasure in earthly vessels, that the excel- lency of the power may be of God, and not of man ;" and while we feel that his grace may be magnified in our infirmi- ties, we dare not yield to the impression which might deter us from the work ; nor refuse an office in which we may be the means of adding glory to his name. Havingbelieved then, we speak. Hav- ing received mercy, we faint not. A dis- pensation of the gospel is committed unto us. Christ must be preached ; the world must be warned ; and whatever may be our sense of our own unworthi- ness, our message, as ministers of the gospel, must be delivered, and prayers and tears must testify to the sincerity with which it is urged. And it will not be delivered in vain! We know him who hath said, " I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." We remember the word which says, " Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world ;" and while we remember that whatever be the hand which planteth, or the hand that watereth, it is God that giveth the increase ; we need not doubt the success of the message, on account of the weak- ness of the messenger by whom it is uttered. But let that weakness be what it may, let the consciousness of infirmity, of un- fitness be what it may ; if ever it happen, that that live coal from the altar, the re- membrance of him who is the propitia- tion for our sins, be laid upon our lips, as it was upon the lips of the prophet: if it ever happen, that the words are heard by us which were heard by him ; if it be said, " Lo, this hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sins purged ;" if a sense of the love of God be shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which AN IMPORTANT INQUIRY. 443 he hath given us ; what is there to check or to hinder us. The love of Christ will then constrain us? Zeal for him who did so much for us ; gratitude to him who suffered so much for us; will over- come every other feeling. We shall re- joice in the privilege of confessing him before men ; and like the apostles, we shall give with great power our witness of the Lord Jesus. Let us look then from ourselves, where there is so much to dishearten, so much to dispirit; and let every eye be fixed on him in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Let us think little of what we may be able to do for him, but think much of what he has done for us. Let us lose sight of our own insufficiency in considering the largeness of his mercy, the greatness of his power; and while we thus give ourselves to him who calls us; though we be the least of all saints, yet to us may be the grace given, to preach to others the unsearchable riches of Christ. BENEFIT OF A RELIGIOUS TRACT. At an Auxiliary Tract Society held in the neighbourhood of London, the follow- ing interesting anecdote was narrated by the Rev. Edward Parsons : — " A member of parliament, now entered into his rest, was in the habit of appro- priating the early hours of the Sabbath to the distribution of these little messen- gers of mercy. On one occasion, as he called at a house which he had visited for the purpose of leaving a tract, he was told by an elderly female, whom he had before seen at this habitation of misery, that a young man up-stairs wished to see him. He was introduced accordingly to a room at the top of the house, where he found the young man stretched on a bed of sickness. After some conversation with him respecting the state of his mind, he ascertained that he was the son of a highly respectable and pious individual ; and that he had left the paternal roof in order to avoid restraint. A course of licentiousness had brought him to the borders of the grave, and he was now anxious, having obtained the pardon of his Maker, to secure the forgiveness of his father. The gentleman went, accord- ing to the directions of the invalid, to the father, and introduced his business with him in the following manner : " You have a son I believe, sir." — " Mention him not to me," said the dejected father; " he has been for a long time my grief, and shame, and sorrow : he will bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave." — " I have seen him," said the gentle- man. " When ■?" inquired the father, anxiously. " A very short time since," replied the gentleman; "he is penitent for his conduct, and his only wish is to obtain your pardon." They hastened together to the house where the wanderer had found a resting-place. When the door was opened, the sufferer lifted up his head, and as he perceived his father, his eye glistened with the hope of re- gaining his favour, and his tongue ejacu- lated the desire of his heart. The event proved that his hope was not fallacious, nor his plea for forgiveness in vain. The father ran, like the parent of the prodigal son, to embrace his long-despaired of but repenting child. The son again repeated his hope that he might, in addition to the pardon of the Almighty through a cruci- fied Redeemer, receive the forgiveness of his parent; this request was immediately granted, and they both wept together. The feeble constitution of the young man, however, was not able to bear so much excitement; he fell from the embrace of his aged parent, and then once more lift- ing his eyes to heaven, he closed them again, and expired. SERMON XLIX. THE LEPERS OF SAMARIA. BY THE REV. J. SHERMAN, IN BEHALF OF HOME MISSIONS. " Then they said one to another, We do not well : this day is a day of good tidings, and we hold our peace : if we tarry till the morning light, some mischief will come upon us : now therefore come, that we inay go and tell the king's household." — 2 Kings vii. 9. The circumstances which dictated this brief conversation were the following. — Ben-hadad, the king of Syria, with a nu- merous army, had besieged Samaria, the capital of the kingdom of Israel. It ap- pears that the siege was continued so long, and under such distressing circum- stances, that the most awful consequences began to rage in the city. Such was the high price of all kinds of provisions, that as much as ten pounds were given for an ass's head, unwholesome, unsavoury food; and a pint of corn, taken from the crops of doves collected from the neighbouring country, was sold at the rate of twelve shillings a pint. Hunger had so blunted the sympathies of nature, that mothers had killed and eaten their own children ; and the resources of the city were now in such a dreadfully exhausted state, that a.n entire surrender, or total destruction, must be the necessary sad consequences. Jehoram, instead of reproving himself for his own wickedness, and confessing to himself privately that he was the great cause of all the miseries which Samaria was now enduring, laid the fault upon Elisha, the most patriotic friend the country had ; and he determined, there- fore, to kill him. For this purpose he went to his house ; and previous to the execution of that purpose he determined to hear the prophet for himself. Utter- ing some impious, abominable, and blas- phemous expression, he was induced to 444 delay his design till the next morning, on account of a prophecy which Elisha delivered, contained in the first two verses of this chapter. "Then Elisha said, Hear ye the word of the Lord ; Thus saith the Lord, To-morrow about this time shall a measure of fine flour be sold for a shekel, and two measures of barley for a shekel, in the gate of Samaria. Then a lord on whose hand the king leaned answered the man of God, and said. Behold, if the Lord vi'onld make windows in heaven, might this thing be 1 And he said. Behold, thou shalt see it with thine eyes, but shalt not eat there- of." In the afternoon of the same day four leprous men suggested to one another the expedient of going out to the camp of the Syrians, and seeing what had become of the army, or what was the state of the Syrian's force. They Avere outcasts from society ; they were devoured by the le- prosy ; they were under the ban and curse of God and man : and therefore any thing that happened to them, they thought, could not make them worse. And, therefore, "• they said one to an- other. Why sit we here until we die ? If we say, we 'will enter into the city, then the famine is in the city, and we shall die there : and if we sit still here, we die also. Now therefore come, and let us fall unto the host of the Syrians : if they save us alive, we shall live; THE LEPERS OF SAMARIA. 445 and if lliey kill us, we shall but die."] As soon as it began to grow dark they commenced their operations, proceeding on their journey; and, to their great as- tonishment, when they arrived at the camp, they found no man there : for the i Lord had gone out before them, and | caused the Syrians " to hear a noise of chariots, and a noise of horses, even the noise of a great host : and they said" — that is the Syrians — " one to another, Lo, the king of Israel hath hired against us the kings of the Hittites, and the kings of the Egyptians, to come upon us. Wherefore they arose and fled in the twilight, and left their tents, and their horses, and their asses, even the camp as it was, and fled for their life." When they had satisfied themselves, by going to the extreme end of the camp, that it was not a stratagem of the enemy, they then went, first into one tent, and partook of the luxuries of life that the Syrians had left behind ; and entered another, and took of the gold and silver, and concealed it in the earth. And after they had thus satisfied themselves, they began to think of their friends : " We have been into the Syrians' camp, and we have now got their money, and we have had their food ; our spirits are refreshed, and our bodies are nourished, by that of which we have partaken ; but there are our poor brethren in the city ; there are our wives, and our children there, and there are vast num- bers there dying of hunger. We do not well to sit here : this day is a day of good tidings ; we have reaped the advan- tage of coming out ; we have partaken of the bounty of God in this extraordi- nary way : if we tarry until the morning light, and be so ungrateful to divine Pro- vidence for the blessings that are con- ferred upon us, some mischief will befall us. Come, let us rise up and go into the city, and tell the king's household the good things of which we have par- taken." My Christian brethren, the present state of the world is, in a spiritual sense, somewhat similar to that in which Sa- maria was placed when these lepers ut- tered these words. The armies of Satan and of sin surround it; the people, by millions, are perishing for lack of know- ledge : God has blessed a variety of in- dividuals, by his rich providence, with a foretaste of the rich provision of grace and mercy, which makes happiness abound on earth, and fits souls for ever- lasting glory. Thousands are every day perishing for lack of knowledge ; and millions more must perish, if the bread of life be not sent. Now we, like the favoured lepers, have found out a plenti- ful supply to enrich ourselves, and feast the world. Thanks be to God that some few efforts have been made to supply the world with this provision ! 13ut their wants are infinitely beyond all the sup- plies we have sent them. Millions are crying, and are praying for this bread of life : and not only millions of the heathen, whose case is constantly presented to our view, but millions of our oion brethren, in villages, and hamlets, and towns of your own country, with your own blood run- ning in their veins, where many of youi relatives dwell ; where some of you have friends, servants, children, relations re- siding. And these dark parts of the earth, though not like the habitations of cruelty in the heathen world, are yet full of vice, and misery, and ignorance, to almost an abounding extent : and the ob- ject of my standing before you this even- ing, is to " provoke you to love and to good works ;" and to endeavour to " stir up youi pure minds by way of remem- brance," to exhort you to " add to your faith virtue," and to your virtue still greater liberality than you have been ac- customed to show to this great and ne- cessitous cause which now presents its claims to your notice. And may I espe- cially, in entering upon the subject this evening, beg the prayers of this congre- gation, that I may be so assisted in lay- ing its claims before you, that your hearts may be opened and expanded, and Christ's name be honoured and glorified this evening. The text, then, describes the times in which we live : " This day is a day of Pfood tidings." The text reproves our indiffer- ence to the miseries of others : " We do not well." The text pronounces our pu- nishment if we delay to send them help 2P 446 THE BRITISH PULPIT. And the text suororests the method which we ought immediately to pursue. First, then, the text describes the times IN WHICH WE LIVE. " This day is a day of good tidings." And is it not, my dear brethren and sisters, a day of good tidings ? What are the peculiarities of the day in which we are called to live ? There are these four peculiarities in it; the first of which I will now mention : — that Jesus Christ has obtained a complete conquest over all our enemies. And this is the great and espe- cial truth which is published in the gos- pel of Jesus Christ. Sin, and the world, and Satan, like a mighty army, with all their leagued friends, were arrayed against us. The justice of God which we had offended, appeared in dreadful majesty against us; and until satisfaction was made to divine justice, mercy itself could not spare or pardon. The wrath of God was revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and all unrighteousness of men ; and all our sad expectation con- sisted in tribulation and anguish, misery and wo, which were ready to fall upon our heads. Now we had to engage these hosts ; we had to go out against them, these armies which surrounded us as they did Samaria. We had no champion, we had no individual who could protect our cause; no army went out against them. Like Samaria, beloved, when we beheld our condition, we were all alarm and all dismay: and, as in the case of Samaria, the victory was wholly of heaven, so it is in our case: Jesus, from the height of the throne of his majesty, beheld us ; pity moved him to compassionate our case; love, which had heights, and depths, and lengths, and l^readths, un- known, and which passeth knowledge, brought him from heaven to earth in our flesh. In that flesh he dwelt for thirty- three years in our world, in the form of a servant; and, as the Captain of our sal- vation, single-handed and alone, he en- tered the bloody field ; and sin and hell opposed all its force against him. The wrath of God seized and fell upon him in all its awful majesty : justice demand- ed of him the debt which we had con- tracted ; and the law poured forth all its curses upon his head. He engaged in the mighty conflict: and, as smoke is driven away, so he drove them away. Our God arose, and he scattered all his enemies. It is true that Christ in this conflict died ; but in dying he " destroyed death, and him that had the power of death, and delivered us, who through fear of death were all our lifetime sub- ject to bondage." It is true that he died ; but in dying he " put away sin, by the sacrifice of himself." It is true that he died ; but he proclaimed the victory with his dying breath — "It is finished:" " Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." It is true, friends, that he died ; " But justice quenched its flaming sword In Jesus' vital blood ;" and the law was magnified, justice was satisfied, God was well pleased, and sin- ners were saved. And now the host of heaven and the church of Christ may sing " Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah ! the work is done; the conquest is made, salvation is brought in ; and the bless- ings which were so much needed for my soul, are all ready to be procured, to be bestowed, through his dying atonement." So that " this is a day of good tidings." Moreover, " this is a day of good tidings" because Jesus Christ has procured an ample provision for all our necessities. The spoil is ours ; the glory is his. The conquest was made by himself, and through that conquest all the benefits of salvation are now amply provided and amply presented to our use. And what are these blessings 1 My brethren, our enemies had robbed us of peace, of joy, of communion, of justification, of holi- ness, and of heaven : but this day is " a day of good tidings ;" Jesus Christ has restored that which he took not away. Whatever scarlet and crimson sins have been committed, in the gospel he has presented a full, and free, and everlasting pardon. If pride, and passion, and pre- judice had corrupted the soul, and be- come its grief, in the gospel is presented a fountain opened for sin and for unclean- ness. If condemnation arise from the law, to terrify the spirit that knows not how to justify himself before God, Christ THE LEPERS OF SAMARIA. 447 in the gospel has presented him with a righteousness that is " unto all and upon all them that believe ;" for there is no difference. If hostility to God and his service be the plague of the man's heart, and oppose the message he constantly hears, Christ has brought and has preach- ed tranquillity ; for " we have peace with God through Jesus Christ our Lord." If heaven be desirable, and its glories be coveted, and the hope of attaining it be lost to any spirit here, " this is a day of good tidings," my hearers, for the way to the holiest of all is made manifest, through the rent veil of the Redeemer's flesh. Beloved, the gospel is a table spread, where all the spiritual wants of sinners may be supplied : here, in abun- dance, are found the bread of life, the water of life, the fruits of the tree of life, and all other blessings connected with life eternal. And may I ask this vast congregation this evening. Have you, dear hearers, satisfied yourselves at this table? Is there any unconverted spirit here, who, yet convicted of its own guilt, is earnestly desirous of the blessings which the gospel imparts 1 This is a Home Missionary Society ; and we are about to plead for home ; and where can I better plead than here, dear hearers, and tell you the gospel is for you, and the blessings of the gospel are for you, and the ample provisions of boundless grace do invite you, do welcome you, to come and partake of them largely ? " O all ye hungry, starving poor, Behold tlie royal feast, And let your longing appetites The rich provision taste." "This day is a day of good tidings :" I am sent on a message from the bounti- ful Provider of this feast: "Come, for all things are now ready." See, my dear hearers, the Master is at the table ; the provisions are spread ; the guests are seated ; but Mary's place is empty ; La- zarus is not one of them that sit at the table with him; .Tohn is not yet amongst his disciples. Have not you, my young friends, who hear me this evening, been the burden of your mother's prayers and hopes, and your father's expectations for years that are past 1 Come to this bless- ed provision ; this is " a day of good tidings" for you ; when you are heartily welcome to all the boundless grace of the great Provider. But there is another point connected with this good tidings, and that is this : that Jesus Christ has led many of us ivho are present to participate in the provisions of his love. And this makes it " a day of good tidings" to us. Blessed for ever be his holy name, that not a few of us have tasted that he is gracious, and that we can put our hands to our heart, and say that the ample provisions of his love have not only satisfied, but done more for us than we could ask or think. We take up the language of Scripture : we delight to know that " we have passed from death unto life, because we love the bre- thren." We know that " all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." " We know whom we have believed, and are persuaded that he is able to keep that which we have com- mitted unto him against that day." " We know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know him that is true ; and we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ." We know that his "flesh is meat indeed, and his blood drink indeed." We " know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we through his poverty might become rich." "We know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him ; for we shall see him as he is." Now how came we in this happy state 1 How came we feel- ingly and experimentally to know these heavenly truths 10" not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name be the glory, for thy mercy and for thy truth's sake." Beloved, the four leprous men exem- plify our condition. Like them, we were cast out of the congregation of the saints: like them, we were loathsome in our own eyes : like them, we were infectious to our neighbours : like them, we were un- der the ban and curse of God ; but, like these leprous men, he filled us with 448 THE BRITISH PULPIT. views of our own misery, made us dis- contented witli the state in which we were, raised a spark of hope in our bo- soms, that for us there might be hope, and that we might, as we could not be in a worse condition, be better, by appli- cation to his mercy and grace. And you who hear me this evening, recollect that the day in which we live must necessa- rily be " a day of good tidings." Who brought you to London 1 Who placed you in such a situation 1 Who fixed you, young man, in that counting-house, where the first sermon you heard should be made evidently the power of God to your salvation 1 0 methinks I see your mother taking her last farewell of you ; and as you went away from the door, she lifted up her voice and said, " God bless thee, my son, and make the God of thy father the God of thy life." And God has answered that prayer; and this is "a day of good tidings" to you. O it was he who, by the operation of his Spi- rit, applied divinely to your heart : it was he who brought you to listen to its voice : it was he who ordered the visit of that friend ; who put that book into your hand ; who suggested the visit to such a house, or such a family, or such a temple for his worship, and there made the gospel instrumental to your everlast- ing good. Now, I say, behold the change; you who were once leprous souls are become rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom : you are satisfied with marrow and fat- ness; and your mouth praises him with joyful lips : you who were afar oflf are brought nigh by the blood of Jesus Christ : and though the day may be dis- tant, yet cleansed, exalted, justified, and glorified, you shall one day arise to the place where he is, and see him, and be like him, and be with him, and shall change your lamentations for hallelujahs, your pilgrim's staff for the palm-branch of victory, and all your distresses for everlasting pleasures. O " this day is a day of good tidings." " Bless the Lord, O our souls, and all that is within us bless his holy name." But, my brethren, there is another point connected -with the day in which we live — that Jesus Christ has opened channels fur ihe publication of these good tidings to others. This day may be em- phatically called, indeed, "a day of good tidings." Will you indulge me, my dear hearers, by reflecting a moment on the contrast of this day and the days that have preceded us ; and let us see whether this day be not " a day of good tidings," Formerly the Scriptures were not com- pleted; now the canon of inspiration is closed. Formerly the Scriptures were not translated ; now we have the Bible, not only closed as it respects the canon, but we have it translated in our own and numbers of other languages. Formerly the saints looked forward for a Saviour to come ; we behold him arrived : for an atonement to be made ; we behold it fin- ished : for a righteousness to be ■wrought out ; we behold it brought in. Former- ly, my brethren, what impediments had the primitive disciples, in the publication of the gospel, in the governments under which they lived ; our government, bless- ed be God, if it does not patronize, does not oppose ; and under the sanction of this government we can carry our gospel every where. Formerly, wherever it was preached, the exertions of our brethren were always impeded by desolation and war; but now we are at peace; there is no port shut against us; missionaries may be sent to every place. At this time God seems to be going forth, and shaking the very nations, stir- ring up the minds of men to an earnest desire for happiness ; a certain something they feel they want, a general buzz and cry over the whole world for a certain something; and although individuals may not know exactly what they want, yet there is a certain anxiety for the way that leads them to glory, happiness, and eter- nal life, which the gospel so amply sup- plies. Now they are throwing off the shackles under which they are groaning, and are crying for Christ and the gospel. Twenty years ago the public press was the vehicle of slander against the saints, and against the Bible, and against Christ; but now newspapers, with very few ex- ceptions, are constrained to be the public and avowed advocates of the kingdom of THE LEPERS OF SAMARIA. 449 Christ. The Missionary Society — I mean the London Missionary Society — tlie Bi- ble Society, and the Tract Society, and others, which were begun with a hand- ful of praying men in Mr. Hardcastle's counting-house, and rose in the world by little and little, like the cloud that the prophet saw, now rise majestically, like the sun, and are scattering light, salva- tion, joy, and peace over the whole world. Again, the petty jealousies and distinc- tions amongst Christians, which so hin- dered and impeded the work of conver- sion, are wonderfully softened down, so that they now seem to vie with each other who can do the most good, and who can most extend the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. In our own land light is spreading in every direction. The pulpits of the established church, which many years ago were not so filled as they now are, now we see are filling in every direction with wise, holy, zeal- ous, devoted, and powerful men. The population of our country, which was formerly sunk in the grossness of igno- rance and darkness, are now — with some exceptions which we shall afterwards show — are now placed in those situations by which they can attain to the know- ledge of the truth, in hundreds of public places, from the servants of Christ. God is putting it into the hearts of wealthy men to erect places of worship. One in your own city has built perhaps as many as eleven or twelve; another has built one at Bristol : one is built at VVeston- super-mare : and churches, too, without parliamentary grants, are erected by the munificence of individuals in various parts of the world, and the glorious gospel of the blessed God is preached in these places. Notwithstanding the difficulties connected with all these things, we see that God is making this " a day of good tidings," by opening channels, and grant- ing facilities for the publication of his truth, which unquestionably never ex- isted before. The days of the Countess of Huntingdon are in some respects re- vived again. She, from her own hearty desire, and love for the spread of the gos- pel of Jesus, would now sell her jewels for the sake of building a chapel ; and Vol. I 07 now strip her house at Ashby-de-la-Zouch of its furniture, in order that another house of God might be erected in another part, and the salvation of the gospel of God made known to the sons of men. My dear hearers, let it also be remem- bered that, notwithstanding the difficult- ies, and the sacrifices, and the distresses connected now with home and foreign labours, God is raising up both his ser- vants and handmaidens, very willingly and joyfully to take this work. I cannot but also look at the immense improve ment in our own land, as indicative of God's favour in this day. When Mr. Rowland Hill first commenced his exer- tions in country places, how different was the spirit and temper of the times. When he first went forth to preach the gospel at Devizes, he told me that two individuals endeavoured to waylay him, and with an oath swore he should not preach the sermon that evening, and that they would take away his life : some sin- gular circumstance attended his emanci- pation from their grasp. Persecution has ceased to a very great extent, and God is giving facilities in every direction for the publication of his truth. There is hardly, perhaps, a village or town in the whole kingdom where the gospel can- not, at this present time, make its way. These are facilities which we could not have expected or dreamed of thirty years ago. • And then, brethren, may I not say that, notwithstanding the difficulties of the times, and the pressure of the times upon various individuals, yet is it not a mar- vellous thing, connected with the present day, that the subscriptions to the various societies increase ; and, above qll, that a greater spirit of prayer for the outpouring of the divine influence on the churches,, and all the exertions connected with mis- sionary and home labours, connected with the great work of God, should be more amply excited among the churches, is evidently a token for good 1 This day is indeed " a day of good tidings." I bless God I was not born a century back ; I thank God I have lived to see 1835 ; for it is " a day of good tidings." It warms and cheers our hearts to see God going 2p2 450 THE BRITISH PULPIT. out before us, causing a noise in the camp, and making tiie enemy fall before us, and making way for his servants to penetrate the dark recesses of the earth, and claim his people for himself. I pass on, in the second place to notice that THE TEXT REPROVES OVR INDIFFER- ENCE TO THE MISERIES OF OTHERS. " "V\ e do not well ; this day is a day of good tidings." This may appear a very strange connexion with the foregoing statements that I have made, brethren : but a very little explanation will, perhaps, alter your opinion. It is true that the Lord Jesus has graciously opened channels, and giv- en facilities for the publication of his gospel : but, beloved, is it equally true that we have embraced them 1 Will you allow me to put this question very se- riously, beloved, to your consciences, and to my own conscience, this evening'? Has the Lord Jesus gone out before us, and granted facilities for the publication of his truth, and have we embraced them 1 Have we seized these openings 1 Have we, as he has opened, entered into the breach, planted the standard, and claimed the territory for him? No: in many cases this has not been done. Alas ! my brethren, if every conscience brings the subject to bear upon itself, and proposes these questions to itself — " Have I seized the efficiencies which Christ has offered rae to make known the bounties of his love to my kindred, to my neighbours, and to the world V each of us must be condemned to-night. " Have I made any sacrii.ce commensurate with the object, or equal to the prospect that was open before me? Have I made Christ's king- dom my first, my earnest, my prime re- quest?" Alas, brethren ! we are all con- demned. What have we endured, com- pared with Christ's sufferings for us ? What have we given that we could not well spare? What have we ever made of sacrifice for the service of the Lord Jesus Christ? Beloved, we are all in the same condemnation ; we are all con- victed and condemned. We have satis- fied ourselves with the precious provision of the gospel ; but, to a great extent, we have forgotten our perishing brethren. We have tasted, alas ! the ease, and the comforts, and the luxuries of our own personal enjoyments, witliout remember- ing that our brethren were perishing for lack of knowledge. Certainly, then, " we do not well." For, first, let it be remembered that w/iile this disposition exists in the mind, we dis- honour our character. W hat is our clia- racter? If we have believed in Christ, we are the sons of God ; we are united to Christ, our elder brother, and we are under infinite obligations to his bound- less love, inexpressible obligations to his gracious care and love to us. Now all he asks us, in return for his love to us, is to love him in return- — not to be ashamed of him; to establish his kingdom, and to give ourselves up to his service. And who would think the terms hard that knew the blessedness of this Master's service ? Who would even think that this proposition were too much to request of souls so deeply indebted to his love and to his mercy ? To us, and to us only, he has deputed the honour of instrument- ally bringing home to his fold our kin- dred and our countrymen. Beloved, our vows are upon us : we have opened our mouths to the Lord, and we cannot go back. All those of us who are accus- tomed to visit the table of the Lord, re- member our vows there. How oft our hearts have been deeply impressed with the love of the Lord Jesus, and we have said, as we have departed from his house, " I am the Lord's : my lime is his ; my talents are his; my property is his; all that I have is his : my Beloved is mine, and I am his." And our prayers wit- ness against us as much as our vows. We have said, " Thy kingdom come ;" and did we mean it? Did we mean that his kingdom should come when we so said ? Yes, we meant that his kingdom should come ; but without any great sa- crifice on our part: or else we have slighted our prayer. If we withhold our persons, if we withhold our property, if we refuse to establish his kingdom in the earth, let us relinquish the name of Chris- tian ; it does not belong to us. But, secondly, we not only dishonour our character, but we disobey Christ^s com- mand. Our prayers have been, " Lead THE LEPERS OF SAMARIA. 451 me into ihy truth, and teach me, for thou art the God of my salvation:" "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ]" has been our cry. Now this is his instruction : *' Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature, beginning at Jerusalem." Go tell the world my love, but begin at Jerusalem ; begin at your own homes ; begin where the peo- ple shed my precious blood ; begin where the man lives that nailed me to the tree; begin where the soldier resides that pierced my side : let the virtue of my cross, and its salvation, be seen by those who were my murderers and my foes : that is, begin at Jerusalem, begin at home. Now this is not an arbitrary com- mand of the Eternal, my brethren, but a very necessary answer to your prayers, to your most earnest wish. You have prayed that his kingdom may come; and now he is opening his way, that his king- dom may come, for you to embrace the opportunities that will be the means of establishing that kingdom in tlie world. It is the very work in which you delight, according to your own profession in your best moments at the footstool of divine rnercy, that you have earnestly desired every thing that has now happened ; and then you have sung that hymn — " Now will I tell to sinners round. What a dear Saviour I have found ; I'll point to his redeeming blood, And say, Behold the way to God." All this was perfectly sincere at the time ; but it must be carried out to prove its sincerity. The command is our warrant ; the promise is our encouragement : and if we live in disobedience to Christ's commands, how can we expect his bless- ing ] " We do not well :" the text re- proves our indifference. If our hearts say, we are too weak and unworthy to be engaged in the work, then I hear him saying, " My grace is sufficient for thee ; my strength is perfected in thy weak- ness." " By me," says the leper, " he saved Samaria ;" and " by me" the little captive maid, in her master's kitchen, was the means of saving her master's soul, and healing her master's body. " By me" the fishermen and tax-gatherer converted thousands. And it is his plea- sure still to choose the weak things of the world to confound the mighty, and the weak things of the world to bring to naught the things that are. Let, there- fore, no hearts be discouraged in their village exertions, in their visitations around their districts, either with tracts, or with the opportunity in society round us — our friends, our neighbours, and the poor too, in speaking for Jesus Christ- You may not speak so eloquently as an ApoUos ; but if you can say one word for your Master, for the Prophet that is in Israel, as the little captive maid did ; who can tell but that God may give that word an efficacy and blessing, which the great- est efforts without his blessing would not effect ] There are especial and great encourage- ments resulting from such a thought as this, to an extended exertion. Where shall we find men for the purpose 1 This is the great, the last, the only question that we should ever propose to ourselves* The great question that commends itself to our especial notice is. What has Christ commanded 1 What is the work he would have us do 1 We are to go and labour, and leave the rest to him; Suc- cess is not ours ; labour is ours. He has the gold and the silver in his possession ; and as he raises up friends for different institutions, he manifestly proves that he has the hearts of all in his hands. O, dear Christian friends, there is a branch of liberality I want to see extended. I think I may say that many of the Chris- tian friends of the church "do not well." How many rich members have we, to whom it would be no sacrifice each to support a missionary? Christ's com- mand is, " Go into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." " Why," says the rich and wealthy pro- fessor, the member of the Christian church, " I cannot go," True, but then you can go by deputy ; and why not have your deputy in a heathen land I Why not have your deputy at home ? Why not have him circulating the know- ledge of the gospel around your city; in the village where you were born, and 452 THE BRITISH PULPIT. perpetuate the memory of Jesus Christ there, in the very place where you your- self cannot gol May I beg to press this upon the attention of Christians'? How much more noble, how much more dura- ble the monument would thus be after the decease of the individual, to have a man of God publishing Christ's salvation in the spot where, perhaps, that person was brought up — in poverty, perhaps, brought up ; but who came to this great city, or went to other places, and God blessed him, and caused his riches to in- crease : how much better would it be to have a monument inscribing his name, and telling of deeds that few, perhaps, ever saw. But I pass on to notice, in the next place, that the text pronounces our PUNISHMENT IF WE DELAY. " If we tarry till the morning light, some mischief will befall us." I will not detain you, my beloved, long in proving a point which I believe you will all subscribe, that some mischief will certainly fall on the heads of those who, knowing their duty, do not fulfil it. It is not doubtful, it is not chimerical : but it is plain, and certain, and awful. Yet I cannot suffer this op- portunity to escape, brethren, without stirring up your minds by way of remem- brance. Let me just therefore remark that the Scriptures assure us, if we de- lay, three things shall befall us : first, our eyes shall see the destruction of our kin- dred ; secondly, our souls shall want the joys of God's salvation ; and thirdly, our conduct shall receive the condemnation of Christ. If we delay this work our eyes shall see the destruction of our kindred. When our beloved Lord had used all efforts to evan- gelize Jerusalem, by preaching, by mira- cles, by residing amongst them, by va- rious conversations, and yet, after all, their misery affected his heart ; he could not look upon them without tears. Many times he wept in his prayers ; but there are two scenes only recorded where he publicly wept : the one was at the grave of Lazarus, his dear friend ; and the other was when he looked over Jerusa- lem, and saw the people perishing — peo- ple who had discarded the prophets that had been sent tl.em. Now what should our grief, beloved, be to see souls brought every hour to the brink of hell, and know that, if they die, they must fall therein, and to reflect that we have used no ade- quate means to succour and save their souls ! Do you believe it, my brethren, that there are Jive millions of your own countrymen, who either have not the means to attend public worship — that is, there are not places of worship for them to attend — or else they are not in the ha- bit of hearing the gospel at all ] Do you believe that fact 1 If you do, I will tell you this: that, supposing thirty years to be the duration of one generation, then there are one hundred and sixty-six thou- sand of your own countrymen dying with- out Christ every year; and there zrefour hundred and ffty of your ow n country- men dying every day without the know- ledge of Christ and his salvation ! This is an appalling fact, my dear brethren ; but can you look calmly and coldly on this, O ye that love Christ ] Is it a mat- ter of indifference that these individuals should pass into eternity, without any effort on your part to pluck them as brands from the burning'? Esther felt when the decree was issued against her coun- trymen; and she sighed and mourned over it ; and she said, " How can I en- dure to see the evil that shall come upon my people ■? How can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred ?" And cannot you say the same ■? There is, however, another point to consider. The evil that shall befall us shall be this — our souls shall tvant the joys of God''s salvation. And tell me, my dear brethren, let your consciences speak to yourselves candidly this evening, what have you ever lost by obedience to Jesus Christ"? Begin your calculation in his house this evening. When have you denied yourself any of the luxuries of life, and perhaps a few of its comforts 1 When have you unflinchingly taken up your cross in obedience to his commands ? When have you made the greatest sacri- fices to his cause, and endeavoured to follow out all his commands ] I ask, Has he not repaid you with his " favour, which is better than life," and made your THE LEPERS OF SAMARIA. 453 cup overflow with spiritual blessings'? Has he nof? And when you have neg- lected his cause, and put earth first and heaven last ; when you have cherished the luxuries and comforts of life in your heart, instead of Christ's cause and his service; when you have put self above Christ, and held the salvation of your souls indifferent, thinking of your busi- ness, of your activity in life, or of your family, or of your neighbourhood, or of your honour — have not the chariot wheels of devotedness and duty dragged very heavily] Have you found communion with Christ so sweet then as formerly, when your first love burned on the altar of your heart? Have you not found the ordinances of God without that refresh- ment which you previously had? Have you not walked in darkness, and had no light? I put it thus, beloved, to your consciences, seriously and affectionately, this evening, whether that passage is not true — " He that knoweth my command- ments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me ; and I will love him, and my Father will love him ; and we will come and make our abode with him." All our consciences testify, brethren, that this is true : and therefore this mischief shall befall us — that, if we act not up to our convictions of the pressing duties which are claiming our attention in Christ's cause, our souls shall want the joys of God's salvation. Again : our conduct shall receive the con- demnation of Christ. I refer now to the last day. That is so plainly spoken of, that it needs no illustration : " Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me." But I now advert to the state of mind which indiffer- ence to Christ's cause brings ; and to the dishonour which even now it casts upon God. The inhabitants of Meroz did not help the enemy ,- they did not oppose the enemy ; but they stayed at home : while their brethren were engaged in war, and were going out against the enemy, they quietly looked on. There was no oppo- sition, there was nothing directly oppo- site in their conduct. No ; they indiffer- ently looked at the war; they neither sent supplies of money nor treasures into the camp ; and their oppressed brethren might fight their own wars, and endure their own perils for them. And what was the consequence 1 A voice from heaven said, "Curse ye Meroz; curse ye bitterly the inhabitants of Meroz ; be- cause they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty." They were not opponents; but our Lord has stated precisely in the same terms — " He that is not with me is against me." Neutrality, beloved, is here quite impossible : we are one thing or the other; we are Christians, or we are enemies to Christ. Let us, therefore, see, brethren, that we live up to these privileges. And the apostle explains, in another case, the kind of punishment such individuals often receive : " Receiving in themselves the recompense of their error, which was meet." They " received in themselves the recompense of their error, which was meet." Can there be a greater punish- ment than to be given up to an indiffer- ent, covetous, hardened state of mind'? O, to have it said to a man, " Let him alone," must, of all the terrors which God can pour upon an individual on this side hell, be the worst. See it exempli- fied in Judas ; see it exemplified in Saul ; see it exemplified in Demas. Let us dread the brink of such a precipice, the approach to such a fearful state as this. " From all hardness of heart towards our suffering, miserable brethren, good Lord deliver us." But, beloved, we hope better things of you, and things that accompany salva- tion, though we thus speak. Your very presence here this evening intimates a contrary spirit. You have come, it is true, with the earnest desire to hear what might be said, relative to the various openings which are about to be made, or which are making, or which are already made, for the spread of the gospel of Jesus Christ. In many cases, perhaps, the want of the knowledge has been the result of the want of liberality on your part. The subject, perhaps, has not been sufficiently presented before you, and you have not therefore thought of it. You are saying this evening, " Jesus, 454 THE BRITISH PULPIT. what shall I do to show how much I love thy charming name]" The text would, in the last place, suggest the conduct WHICH you OUGHT TO ADOPT UNDER PRE- SENT CIRCUMSTANCES. " Let US go," the text says, " and tell the king's house- hold." And, brethren, let us go and carry the gospel to our poor brethren and sisters in England that are perishing for lack of knowledge. Beloved, our brethren are perishing; and will you be kind enough this evening to look steadfastly at their condition. I do not wish you to look merely at the exterior ; their drunken- ness, and their vices, and their prodigali- ty, are, perhaps, very distressing : but I wish you to look further than these things; I wish you to look at the cause of all tlris : and the cause of all this is, that they are without God, and they are with- out Christ, and they are without hope in the world. If they would go, as they should go, to Christ, the cause of all their evils would instantly be banished. They are famishing not for bread made of the finest of the wheat; our flax, our wool, and our wine they want not: and if they were dying of famine, if they had but Christ's love in their hearts, why famine would only be a nearer road to immortality : it would be like going across the field, instead of going the long way round by the road. But they are perishing for lack of the bread of life ; are dying for want of the water of life ; are thirsting for pardon, and they know not where it is to be had. And though some of them, perhaps, reject it; and when your missionaries go to their doors, and say, " We come to tell you about the Saviour," they say, " We do not want to hear it ; we want neither you nor your doctrine:" will you say, "Let them alone in their ignorance ?" That be far from you. Look at that maniac : does he ask you to come and help him 1 Does he beg you to take off his fetters 1 Does he say, "Set me at liberty'?" No: he dances in his chains ; he calls his fetters his ornaments ; he looks out of the win- dow of his cell, and he talks about his inheritance ; he lifts up his walking- stick, and tells you it is a sceptre ; he points to the seat on which he sits, and tells you it is his throne. Do you pity him the less because he is under a delu- sion; because he is ignorant ? Ono; the very circumstances of the poor maniac awaken your tender sympathies, and you pour over him, on account of his igno- rance and his delusion, your warmest and most tender feelings. I have sometimes been at a funeral, where the dear infants have lost their dearest earthly relation — their tender mother ; and I have seen them pleased with their black clothes, and playing with them, and running about the room with apparent deliglit that they had got these new habiliments : and many a sigh from the company present had issued from the mouth as they said, "Ah, dear little children! you do not know what you have lost." Do you pity them the less because they are ignorant, because they do not know the value of the person they have lost] No: you sympathize with them, and pour out your souls in prayer for them. And this is the very case with our countrymen; many of them reject the truth, and despise the truth : and that very consideration should awaken the tenderest sympathies of your heart, to send them more fully the gospel of our God. O beloved, they are perishing; they are perishing for lack of knowledge ; and that should awaken your sympathy. Wliy, you have sixty agents in your work ; and you have four hundred vil- lages ; and you have about thirteen thou- sand hearers ; and you have four thou- sand Sabbath-school children. I bless God that you have : but when you think that there are many villages, and many stations, where, for the compass of twenty miles round that station, it is impossible to hear the word of life preached, let it awaken your sympathies, and your earnest desires, and your liberality too, to send them the gospel. O let us tell them that the victory is gained ; that the pardon is offered, that salvation is presented, and that Christ bids every sinner come and partake of the bounties of his love and his salvation for ever. So shall you have, dear hearers, " the blessing of them that were ready to perish" come upon you. THE LEPERS OF SAMARIA. 455 It suggests, in the second place, that we should go and tell of these glad tidings, because success is certain. Success is cer- tain. What though many of your dear missionaries, who toil night and day in the work, have not had the extended en- couragement of their heart's desire which you could wish — will you give up? Brethren, the London Missionary vSociety spread the table of the gospel, with all its provisions, for fifteen years in Ota- heite, and not one soul was converted by the preaching of the gospel, as was known to the missionaries, during that time. But the day of Christ's power was to come : lo, a nation, as it were, was born in a day : a revival took place ; God came down, dispersed all the mists of darkness, and pointed the sinners' con- science to the salvation. " He must in- crease :" not only his kingdom shall come ; but he must increase : " he shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied :" he " will pour out his Spirit upon all flesh, and all flesh shall see the salvation of our God." If we had been entirely defeated in this cause, defeat in this would be better than success in any other. But we are not defeated. It is true that now and then a little drop of divine influence descends on the congre- gation, and our brother is pricked to the heart; and our sister feels the power of the truth ; and our mother is awakened to seriousness ; and our father comes home with conviction on his conscience ; and our neighbour is alarmed for his state. But presently a greater work than this shall be seen : when the Spirit of God shall be poured out from on high, then numbers shall wake and cry out, " What must we do to be saved ]" Bre- thren, your heavenly Leader has gone up before you : he has taken all the princi- pal places, all the forts and towers of the enemy ; and he bids you, " Follow me :" he says, " There is much land yet to be possessed ;" and he calls on you, and says, " Why are ye slack to go and par- take of this land ; why are ye slack 1 Why do ye not go up and plant the stand- ard of the cross upon the soil, and claim it for me ?" Why, because our hearts are cold ; and because our souls do not listen to the glorious tidings of the con- quests of that Saviour, which are now to be presented upon the earth. Dear hearers, when you think, then, that success is certain, that every guinea you give to the cause of God shall be, as it were, a seed dropped — the very mite given into the treasury, shall go towards furnishing the gospel of God to the poor and the miserable among your own coun- trymen— whilst you think Christ has bound himself, by oath and promise, to bless every effort made ; let this stimu- late you again to renew your efforts, again to desire that the glory of the Lord may be revealed, that all your kindred may see his gospel. Finally, brethren, let us furnish this gospel to our countrymen, for our oppor- tunities are vanishing. Time is hasten- ing on ; health is inconstant; the fashion of the world passeth away. This, this is the only time we can use our strength, and talents, and time, and money. Give, therefore, this evening, as if this were the last act of your lives; as if you were about to stand at the bar of Jesus Christ, and to be judged for the deeds done in the body. Let the truths that you have heard impress your mind : and now, at the cry of this one hundred and sixty thousand who are annually dying, and of the five millions who are without the gospel, and the four hundred and fifty daily who are waking in eternity without God and without hope ; now, while tlieir cry is ringing in your ears, and while the Spirit of God is speaking through his word, now arm yourselves against all selfishness, and against all covetousness, and let the love of Christ take an entire hold of your spirit, while you say, " Awakej my dormant zeal ; for ever flame With generous ardour for immortal souls : And thou my head, and heart, and hands, and all. Spend and be spent in service so divine." SERMON L. THE MORAL INFLUENCE WE EXERT AFTER DEATH. BY THE REV. J. GUMMING, A.M.* " He being dead yet speaketh." — Heb. xi. 4. There can be no question that the text, m its primary import, refers to the faith and accepted sacrifice of Abel ; and that the Holy Spirit conveys the important truth, that the departed son of Eve pro- claims a useful and healthful lesson, even from the chambers of the tomb — namely, that the blood of Jesus our sacrifice is the ground of all our hopes and acceptance, and that by him alone, as the living way, is there access to the Father. But we may fairly depart from the personal and specific idea involved in the text, and pre- sent it as one of those general and great principles which have a bearing on all — a lesson to the living, and a truth con- cerning the dead. Every son of man, as well as Abel, " being dead yet speaketh." Every man that plays a part in the great drama of human life, leaves, at his de- parture, an impress and an influence, more or less extensive and lasting. The grave of the peasant and the mausoleum of the prince, are alike vocal. The sepul- chral vault in which the scion of royalty was laid the other day, as well as the cold, wet, opening of the earth in which the way-side beggar was buried, utters audible and actuating oratory. From every one of the dead a voice is heard, in some circle of the world's inliabitants, which the knell of their departure does not drown — which the earth and the green sod do not muffle — which neither deaf- ness, nor distance, nor anything that man may devise, can possibly extinguish. ♦Occasioned by the death of the Rev. Ed- ward Irving, A.M. 456 Every churchyard speaks often far more thrilling accents than the senate house of the congregations of the living. No fact is more self-evident, or more universally admitted, than the text; and no fiict withal is more generally disre- garded by the living. Do not the say- ings and doings of your departed relatives often arrest you in the busy stir of human life, and, according to their tone and cha- racter, supply you with fresh incentives to holiness and religion, or to godless- ness and impiety ] 'Do not their words often echo in the cells of memory ? Do not their features and their forms start into bright contrast with the darkness of actual absence, and light up the chambers of imagery with early recollections 1 Do not the sounds of the one, and the sight of the other, reach your hearts, and tell upon your resolutions, your actions, and your hopes'? And, just in proportion to the width of the sphere in which the departed moved, and the strength of intellectual and moral character they possessed and developed, will be the duration and the plastic power of that influence they have left behind them. A son, for instance, trained to maturity under the affectionate superintendence of a religious mother, breaks loose in the days of his manhood from all the restraints and ties that bound him to the ways of pleasantness and peace, and wounds the heart of his parent, and brings her gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. In after years, and in the far-ofl land of his prodigality and guilt, early impressions look forth from his memory, MORAL INFLUENCE EXERTED AFTER DEATH. 437 from beneath the wreck and rubbish by which they are covered, and rivet his thoughts on the past. In this stilly hour the ghosts of departed scenes of innocence and peace flit before him, and the voice of his heart-broken mother rings amid his heart's emptiness, and she " being dead yet speaketh" from her grave, with an emphasis and effect which she could not command while she sat beneath her own roof, and beside her own hearth. A re- action takes place in his conduct, and all by the instrumentality of the holy conver- sation and unblemished worth of her whose lips are closed in death, and who " being dead nevertheless speaketh" for her God, his truth, and his glory. Or we may vary the illustration, and adopt that of a departed minister of Jesus. His tongue was ever eloquent in the cause of piety and eternal things, and his life was the exact counterpart of his creed — the echo of his preaching, the legible and the living illustration of all his sermons. Under such a ministry as this, many re- mained impregnable to the claims of eter- nity, " dead ia trespasses and sins." When he has been gathered to his fathers, and the voice that sounded the trumpet of alarm and of battle has been hushed in the silence of the tomb, and the fingers that were taught by .Tehovah to fight, and to wield the sword of the Spirit, are nerveless in death — 0 ! often there comes from the pastor laid in the grave, a more persuasive and melting eloquence, than there came from the pastor standing in the pulpit; and from the herald of Jesus wrapped in his winding-sheet, a more successful sermon, than from the herald of Jesus robed in the emblems of his mi- nisterial character. Deep often is the appeal that comes from his grave, and spirit-stirring and touching the discourse which " he being dead yet speaketh." His example lingers behind him ; the im- perishable of his nature walks among his flock, visiting their homes, comforting the mourner, warning the careless, and teach- ing the ignorant, and continues to stand in the pulpit which the living man occu- pied, and " to reason of righteousness, and temperance, and judgment." This, my Christian brethren, is the fair Vol. I.— 58 side of the portrait ; and were the influ- ence left behind by the dead universally of this stamp and character, then would men be throughout their biography like visitant angels of mercy passing athwart our miserable world, distilling balm and scattering light among men's sons ; or as transient gales from the spicy lands of the East, or glorious meteors arising in rapid succession amidst the moral darkness of the earth, imparting light and fearless- ness to its many pilgrims, and this would be bettered by every successive genera- tion, till it arose and expanded to its mil- lennial blessedness and peace. But alas ! if many of the dead yet speak for God, and for the eternal welfare of humanity, many, many also speak for Satan, and ply after, as before their death, the awful work of sealing souls in their slumber, and smoothing and adorning the paths that lead to eternal death. Just reverse the portraits we have drawn. Suppose that the mother we have alluded to was one that forgot, alike and altogether, the claims of her God, her soul, and her fami- ly ; and, both by her example and her tuition, fostered the evil passions which are indigenous to our nature. What is the language in which she " being dead yet speaks V What is the influence she leaves behind her "? It is the same voice that comes from her home and her grave : " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die :" and often and again will her evil maxims be quoted, and her wicked life appealed to, for incentives to sin, and en- couragement in the works and ways of iniquity. She is dead, but the contagion of her character is alive. Her form is beneath the earth, but her voice is still heard to the extent of its sphere, and the spectre of her immorality stalks among those that were attached to her in life : and, just in proportion to the many amia- bilities of her character, will be the depth and duration of the impression made by the vices of her character. Or we may pass to the higher platform, and quote the Christian minister. Lefus suppose that his creed and his conduct were irrecon- cilable antagonists — that he preached like a seraph, and lived like a devil — that he preached so well that it was a pity he 2Q 458 THE BRITISH PULPIT. ever left the pulpit, but lived so ill that i dying influence which genius can exert it was a pity he ever entered it. 0 ! how destructive the sermons which he " being dead yet speaketh !" Every godless hearer he has left behind him will appeal to the doings of his deceased minister for a sort of license to his conduct, and in- dulgence for his sins ; and the unhappy man will destroy more after his death than iluring his life. Thus the departed sinner, as well as the departed saint, " being jdead yet speaketh." Thus our sins as well as our virtues survive. Thus we exert a posthumous influence which adds either an impulse upon the advancing chariot of salvation, or throws stumbling-blocks and obstacles in its way. These last charac- ters are like baleful comets that traverse our cano])y for awhile, leaving behind them pestilence, and plague, and mildew ; or, like the fell simooms of the desert, wafting moral death and desolation to every scene which they visit. It is for these reasons that we urge every one to read the lives of illustrious martyrs, and apostles, and saints, who "being dead yet speak," in behalf of all that is holy, and honest, and of good report ; and it is for this reason especially that we would warn ever}^ man, and teach every man, to be very jealous of his life and his doings, not merely on account of the present generation, but of generations yet to come, over which his influence for good or for evil may extend. We have hitherto spoken of the influ- ence for good or for evil which men leave behind them in the immediate circles of their friends and acquaintance ; but there ^ are other ways in which men may speak to many generations yet to come, as loudly as if they had a voice which could be heard from the rivers to the ends of the earth. I speak not of the lettered tomb- stone, which is the voice of many of the dead speaking, after they are gone, to the pilgrim that is wending his way to Zion ; nor of monuments erected to commemo- rate illustrious worth ; nor of legacies and bequests to the cause of religion, which make the name of the donor to be men- tioned with reverence and respect after he is gone : but I speak of the almost un- by reason of that great discovery of mo- dern times — the printing-press. The dis- covery of printing is the finest illustration of my text ; and well may we remark in passing, that many texts which to us ap- pear yet weak or obscure, are waiting for greater advancement in human discove- ries to be brought home to us in all their weight and their fulness. By means of printing, man may speak to all kindreds, and tribes, and people, and tongues, and make his voice be heard, with simultane- ous power, beyond the Atlantic waves, and upon the shores of the Caspian sea, and amid the population of Europe. Nay, he may speak to accumulating genera- tions after his death, with all the fresh- ness and force of personal eloquence. Printing gives to man a sort of ubiquity and eternity of being: it enables him to outwit death, and enshrine himself amid a kind of earthly immortality. It enables him to speak while yet dead. His words that breathe, and thoughts that burn, are imbodied and embalmed ; and with him thousands hold profitable or hurtful com- munion till time is no more. If, then, we are loudl)- called upon to be careful what we speak, and what we do, we are doubly warned to beware what we throw into the press, and invest with a power to endure, and a strength to pass every sea, and to visit every people. Every day as it dawns is adding to the powers, and resources, and expansibili- ties of man : and, if every day does not also add a larger amount of moral and re- ligious principle to regulate this growing power, then, in the end, will the hu- man race attain a giant's strength, but have an idiot's skill to use it. Our poli- tical power is increased ; our numerical, and therefore physical, power is in- creased ; our resources are immensely in- creased ; our skill has enabled us, by steam navigation, to bid defiance to tide, and tempest, and time ; and our improve- ments in printing are now so vastly mul- tiplied, that we can give body and form to every word that falls from the lips of man, and circulate the speech that was addressed to a few auditors yesterday to the utmost ends of the globe. We there- MORAL INFLUENCE EXERTED AFTER DEATIL 459 f(*e want much a commensurate increase of religious principle, and need more tiian ever to be reminded how and what we are to do. Never was the text so true as it is in the nineteentli century ; never did men "being dead yet speak" so exten- sively, so long, and so loudly. If any earth-born joys are admitted as visitants amid the celestial choirs, the joy that springs from having written saving and sanctifying works, is the sweetest that reaches the hearts of the saved. And I can fancy a Baxter, a Newton, a Scott, a Rutherford, rejoice with exceeding joy when the angels tliat minister to them that are to be heirs of salvation, bring word that, in consequence of the "Awakening Call of the Uncon- verted," or " the Force of Truth," or the " Letters from the Prison of Aberdeen," some sinner has been aroused from his lethargy, and made a partaker of grace, and mercy, and peace. And if, as we believe, any poignant recollections from this side " the bourne whence no traveller returns," reach the memories of the lost, not the least bitter will be the remem- brance of having written volumes which are circulated by every library, and sold by every vender, in which the founda- tions of morality are sapped, and the youth of our world poisoned throughout the whole range of their moral economy. O ! it will be the sorest sting of that worm which never dies, and the most agonizing pang of that fire which is never quenched, that their name, and their creed, and their principles after them, gather converts on earth, and carry fell desolation to homes that had otherwise been happy, and cor- ruption to hearts that had else beat high with philanthropy and piety. To speak in many tongues and in many lands, long after they are dead, is a source of deep joy to the holy ones that are saved ; and to speak in many tongues and in many lands, after they are dead, is a source of the bitterest sorrow to the damned. And thus it seems to come out, that the intel- lectual and scientific discoveries of every day, are preparing either additional mat- ter of deep pain to the lost, or of intense joy to the ransomed. Knowledge is not only power for good or for evil, but it is joy or sorrow to the denizens of eternity. Often and again will the great and the wise that are in glory, wish that their pens had been more employed, and their faculties put more to the stretch ; and often will the lost in hell wish, that when they wrote, their right hand had forgotten its cunning, and the sun refused them his light, and the press cast out their works still-born, and consigned them to Lethean streams. Thus I have laid before you the mighty influence which emanates from the dead, and the many channels through which that influence may continue to flow forth upon the living, for generations yet to come. I am now anxious, as a watch- man upon the walls of Zion, to improve all passing occurrences, and, among the rest at this time, the death of one who has made a deeper sensation among the religious public, than any other minister since the days of Luther and of Knox, and who being dead speaks volumes — I mean the death of the Rev. Edward Irv- ing. His name is now perished from the catalogue of the living upon earth, but found, I am sure, in the book of the living on high. I believe he has gone to the bosom of his Father and his God, where his sincere, but grievous misapprehen- sions of many great truths are for ever done away. He held, I know, the alone foundation Christ Jesus, and adorned the doctrine he professed by every Christian virtue ; and while the " hay, and straw, and stubble," he built on it are all con- sumed, he himself shall be everlastingly secure. When I came first to this great metro- polis, I found in Mr. Irving a friend when I had none besides, and in his session much spiritual and religious comfort. I was in the habit of spending many Satur- day evenings along with a few ministers of England and Scotland, in meditations on the Greek Testament ; and when I remember the child-like simplicity, the striking humbleness of mind, and the kind hospitality of that great and good man, I cannot but grieve at the awful eclipse under which he came, and the early tomb he has found. He is gone to the grave, I have reason to believe, with 460 THE BRITISH PULPIT. a broken heart. However much he con- tinued to adhere to the unscriptural and enthusiastic notions he broached, he could not yet shut his eyes to the awful disco- veries made concerning the conduct of some of his professedly inspired followers. Conceive men daring to declare that they were inspired by the Holy Ghost, and, in virtue of their pretended inspiration, or- daining apostles, evangelists, prophets, and, all the while, living in the grossest violation of the ten commandments. In these things there was enough to break that good man's heart; and if we com- bine with these facts the various tribunals at which he has stood — his dissociation and exile from the temple in this city, which the credit of his name had reared, and in which (as he himself most pathe- tically said) his babes were buried — his deposition from the office of the holy mi- nistry in that church, whose battles he had often fought and whose walls he dearly loved ; we can see more than ade- quate materiel to bring him to the grave in the prime of manhood. He set out on the Christian ministry like some war- ship, with streaming pennants, and with majestic way : but the storms beat, and the waves arose, and prudence was driven froip the helm, and, perchance, the seven spirits that are before the throne ceased to breathe upon the sails; and battered, and tossed, and rifted, she foundered amid rocks and shoals. I left him when I con- ceived that he had left truth ; but still, never did I cease to esteem the man, and earnestly to pray for his recovery. It is because "he being dead yet speaketh" more important lessons than any of the dead I have known, that I bring his cha- racter before you this day. Let me, in dependence on divine grace, enumerate a few of the lessons, "he being dead yet speaks" to the ministers and people of Christ. 1. He speaks tons strongly on the dan- ger that environs a lofty intellect. No man ever possessed a mind of higher range, and a greater power of fervent and im- pressive oratory. None, with the ex- ception of his illustrious father in Christ, Dr. Chalmers, was so able to arrest the attention, and gain the hearts, and mould the doings of his audience. But it was his calamity that he knew and felt too well the greatness of his genius ; and this made him fancy he could penetrate the arcana of eternity in virtue of his intellec- tual prowess, and gather to his bosom flowers that bloomed not for man upon earth, and make known a geography which is to be known hereafter only. Like the eagle, he soared too near the sun, and was struck blind. He was misled by sparks of his own kindling. Had he been but a retired and ordinary parish minister, how happy had it been for Ed- ward Irving ! But so it is ; the strongest swimmer is first drowned, and the strong- est and the foremost warrior most fre- quently slain. Here is a lesson for men of great parts. It is not in this case that grace is needed in the inverse ratio of our intellectual strength. The greater our intellect is, the greater our need of grace to guide it. The strong man has most need of discre- tion, and the rich man of prudence. Let it be your fervent pra3'er, that the powers you have derived from the Creator may be incased in grace derived from Christ Jesus your Redeemer. Here also is a lesson to men of moderate talents. Envy not the lofty minds of the eloquent and the able : the higher you rise, the greater is your liability to fall. Let us remem- ber, that David's weakness, backed by the blessing of the God of Israel, was stronger than the strength of Goliath without it. Our warfare is not with in- tellectual, but with spiritual arms. The only desirable gift is the grace of God. 2. " He being dead yet speaketh" of the dangers of ministerial popularity. Never yet did obscurity destroy ministe- rial usefulness, but often has it been im- paired and neutralized by the poison of the popular breath. He who is gone had often and again among his audience, the crowns and the coronets of the world — the wise, and the rich, and the illustri- ous ; and the matter of wonder is, not that he should have fallen, but that he did not fall much sooner. It would be well if those, who spare no condemnatory lan- guage when they speak of him who is gone, would but think, that if they had MORAL INFLUEiNCE EXERTED AFTER DEATH. 461 stood in his place, their fall would have oeen more speedy, and more disastrous. He became giddy from the eminence to which he was raised ; and after stagger- ing awhile, he fell, a warning to all never to forget that " by grace they stand," wherever and whatever be the niche which they occupy. But there is an especial admonition from his tomb to our congregations. His people almost idolized him ; they listened to him instead of listening to God ; and therefore the Almighty taught them, by bitter experience, that man is not to receive the glory that pertains exclusively to Je- hovah. O never was minister-worship so signally punished ; and never, I trust, will the lesson cease to be remembered by generations yet to come. 3. " He being dead yet speaketh" re- specting the danger of self-sufficiency and sef-conjidence. We are, by no means, prepared to assert, that the verdict of others is to determine the nature of our own decisions on the word of the living God ; and we are not prepared to assert, that any national or individual church is infallible ; we must all stand or fall by what we ourselves have thought and done, not by what others have said. But when the whole voice of Christendom is lifted up against an opinion which we have cherished — when martyrs have seal- ed by their blood, and apostles have preached to the death, and reformers have proclaimed in every land, that one propo- sition is from the Scripture, and the other in direct opposition to its statements, it surely becomes a young and inexperienced divine, to doubt, to pause, to give away. Because we are not to bow to the ipse dixit of any, we are not therefore to re- ject the weight of the testimony of the wise, the holy, the ancient. The whole Church of Scotland decided, through her venerable assembly, that the views of Mr. Irving, respecting the humanity of Christ, were unscriptural ; and yet he persisted in his adherence to his former statements, and pitched his own judgment against that of the most venerable, and earned, and holy fathers of the Christian church. I do feel, that next to the Bible, we are to honour the church. But the fact is, that the whole inspiration of tlie word of God was clean at issue with those views which Mr. Irving broached respect- ing the humanity of Jesus. As to the claims to miraculous powers, never were claims so wild and preposterous. 1 defy them to produce one single instance of miraculous power. The miracles of our Lord and his apostles were so palpable, that men never disputed their supernatu- ral character, but declared that they were either from God or from Satan ; but, in the present day, the miracles said to be wrought are such miserable failures, that the question is among themselves whether they really be miracles or not. Doubt is condemnation here. Nothing should be more satisfactory to these deluded men than the fact, that, a fortnight before the death of him to whom we allude, one of the gifted persons, speaking (as he pro- fessed) by the Spirit, prophesied that their leader would not die. What is the fact] And what is the inference] I pressed this single incident lately home to the conscience of one of the deluded people, and he told me that Jeremiah had prophesied falsehoods, and, if he erred, the prophets in Newman-street surely had license to err. So indeed they had. So infatuated are these fanatics that, rather than humble themselves to see the absur- dity of their views, they will let go their belief in the inspiration of the word of the living God, and shake the very foun- dations of all our Christianity. May God deliver us from a spirit of self-con- fidence and self-sufficiency, and lead us to that happy temperament which stands neither in receiving wholesale and unexa- mined the opinions of men, nor in reject- ing and despising them as less to be depended on than our own. Above all, let us ever feel that dependence on the Spirit of God which is our greatest strength and security. 4. " He being dead yet speaketh" re- specting the danger of leaving truth, even in the smallest degree, and preferring opi- nions simply because they are novel. There is but one straight and true way, while there are a thousand false. In that way we find that the pious and the illustrious dead have walked, and found peace; and 2q3 462 THE BRITISH PULPIT. this way is so clear and well-defined that we may rest assured, whatever scintilla- tions of truth, unobserved before, we bring to the view of men, these must be on the surface only. The great truths of the Bible were, perhaps, more dis- tinctly seen and grasped, at the dawn of the Christian era, than in these its latter days. We may illustrate, and we may place in stronger light, the great articles of a standing or a falling church ; but find other and hitherto undiscovered and essential truth, we never can. Take care, then, of deviating from the path of truth by an inch. If once you leave that consecrated and beaten way, you know not to what darkness and error you may eventually come. You then follow the {g7v's fatiius of human fancy, and lose the only light to the feet, and lamp to the path — you lose the thread that leads through the mazy labyrinth of human life — you start away on a wrong scent. He who is dead speaks powerfully on this subject. He started some wild va- garies on the millennium, and laid these down as axioms in Christian doctrine : but he stopped not here ; one wild notion was hatched after another, till the un- happy author was lost in a maze of con- fusion and error. Had he been spared, I doubt not but that he would have re- tracted his errors, and returned to the good old ways of scriptural and solid inquiry. As it is, let us learn from the dead the lesson which the Almighty has not seen meet to allow us to learn from the lips of the living — that it is an evil and bitter thing to forsake the plain and the long-established ways of truth. And now, could he revisit them whom he has led astray, O how fervid and how earnest would be his exhortations to abandon their wild and unscriptural creed, and return to the church of their fathers, the mother from whose breasts they first drew the sincere milk of the word, and by whose hallowed altars they were nurtured and fed. O, let the confessed hypocrisy of some of these fanatics, and the discovered iniquity of others of them — let the mockery of mi- raculous power they exhibit, and the lying prophecies they utter, prove to these deluded mortals that their church is a refuge of lies, and, with a few sin- cere and holy exceptions, a sanctuary for hypocrisy, fanaticism, and sin. To us, who have escaped these delu- sions, the dead would speak — do not su]i- pose that, because you have the furm of godliness, therefore all is well : do not suppose that a sound creed is universally connected with a sanctified heart. Re- member heart and life heresy is much worse than head heresy. Remember that to no purpose will you say, " Lord ! Lord !" if you have not done those things which he has commanded. May the Holy Spirit enlighten our minds to see the truth, and sanctify our hearts to feel and to follow it! GARRICK S PRECEPTS TO PREACHERS. The celebrated Garrick having been requested by Dr. Stonehouse to favour him with his opinion as to the manner in which a sermon ought to be delivered, the English Roscius sent him the following judicious answer : — " MY DEAR PUPIL, " You know how you would feel and speak in a parlour concerning a friend who was in imminent danger of his life, and with what energetic pathos of diction and countenance you would enforce the observance of that which you really thought would be for his preservation. You could not think of playing the orator, of studying your emphasis, cadence, and gesture : you would be yourself; and the interesting nature of your subject impress- ing your heart, would furnish you with the most natural tone of voice, the most proper language, the most engaging fea- tures, and the most suitable and graceful gestures. What you would thus be in the parlour be in the pulpit, and you will not fail to please, to affect, and to profit. Adieu, my dear friend." SERMON LI. ON MORAL DISCIPLINE. BY THE REV. JOHN SINCLAIR, A.M. MINISTER OF ST. PAUL's EPISCOPAL CHAPEL, EDINBURGH. ' No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is Jit for the kingdom of God." — Luke ix. 62. We are taught in Scripture, to regard this world not only as a state of proba- tion, but of discipline ; not only as a course of Irial, to ascertain our fitness for another life, but also as a course of pre- paration to acquire that fitness ; a school in which certain tastes, and sentiments, and habits, are to be formed, and certain capacities matured, by which we are to become, as St. Paul expresses it, " worthy of the Lord," or endowed with " meet- ness for the inheritance of the saints in light ;" or, according to the expression in the text, " fit for the kingdom of God," suited to its moral excellence, as well as ready for its spiritual occupations and enjoyments. One branch of this ge- neral qualification, or fitness, is here, by our Lord himself, distinctly brought be- fore us, viz. firmness and consistency of character — a kind of moral courage, which, having undertaken a great object, pursues it constantly and perseveringly, without looking back. Our present purpose, however, will be not merely to confine our reflections to this one particular branch of fitness for heaven, but generally to examine the whole subject of moral discipline, show- ing its analogies with that natural disci- pline, by which men are prepared, in this life, for their several pursuits and occupa- tions throughout society. The analogies between infancy, as a season of educa- tion for riper years, and the present life for the life to come, are various and im- portant. On this occasion, we shall illus- trate four only of the most remarkable and interesting points of correspondence between the state of a child in prepara- tion for manhood, and of man in prepa- ration for eternity. I. Both kinds of discipline are necessary. II. Both are often painful and myste- rious. III. Both admit of no delay i and, IV. Lastly, Both are frequently ineffec- tual. Let us, then, begin with the considera- tion of the first analogy, viz. That the discipline in both cases is necessary. A child, on his first production into the world, is by nature totally incapable of the pleasures and pursuits of manhood. This incapacity pervades equally his phy- sical, his intellectual, and his moral con- stitution. In each of these respects, he must be properly qualified, by a series of changes and developments, before he can undertake the business of maturer years. His body must be brought, by long continued nourishment and exercise, to manly strength and consistency. His intellect must, by observation, instruction, and reflection, be gradually ripened and matured. His moral faculties, at first wholly dormant, cannot be roused to full activity, till he comprehends sufficiently the relations in which he stands, both to his Creator and to his fellow creatures, 463 464 THE BRITISH PULPIT. together with the duties which those re- lations involve. This unfitness of child- hood for duties and occupations to which it has not yet been trained or disciplined is very forcibly and distinctly remarked upon by St. Paul, in an illustration fami- liar to every scriptural reader ; " When I was a child, I spake as a child, 1 under- stood as a child, 1 thought as a child ; but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Similar to this, my brethren, would be the unfitness of man for a crown of glory in the kingdom of God, were he not pre- pared by the intermediate probationary discipline of the present life. He is as unqualified, without such preparation, for the employments of the blessed in heaven, as a cliild is for those of full grown manhood upon earth. This incapacity, first of all, is physical. His body is of such a structure as to be incapable of enjoyment, or even life, in an abode wholly different from that which it now inhabits, and from which alone it is naturally adapted. Hence, alluding to our present bodily constitution, as gross, imperfect, and unsuitable to the heavenly state, the apostle says, " Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, neither doth corruption inherit incorruption." For the removal of this unsuitableness, proper methods and opportunities are appointed by the divine Author of our frame. Certain processes of gradual tran- sition must be undergone. Life, death, the grave and the resurrection, are all of them but so many stages in our progress, each of which prepares the body for the next that follows, and all of which pre- pare it for immortality. The language of St. Paul is here again illustrative of oiir statement. He compares the dissolution and reconstruction of our bodies to the several changes of a seed — dead, wither- ed, decomposed, and afterwards reviving, with other properties as a plant. " That which thou sowest," he says, " is not quickened, except it die ; and that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be. So also is the resurrection of the dead ; it is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption ; it is sown in dishonour, it is raised in glory ; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body. And so it is written, the first Adam was made a living soul, the last Adam was made a quickening spirit. Howbeit, that was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural, and afterward that which is spiritual. The first man is of the earth, earthy ; the second man is the Lord from heaven. As is the earthy, such are they also that are earthy ; and as is the heavenly, such are they also that are heavenl}\ And as we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly. This cor- ruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal, immortality." The changes here described, as being necessary to create fitness in the body for inheriting the kingdom of God, correspond precisely with our progress from the weakness and imperfection of childhood, to the strength and full proportions of mature age. Thus far the necessity of a physical improvement or alteration has been exa- mined. The same necessity may be in- ferred, respecting the developments of the understanding. Some analogy seems probable between the intellectual growth of the infant mind, and the intellectual preparation of man for the society of superior beings in the world of glory. On this subject, however, we have not the same degree of scriptural information as has been given us respecting the ad- vancement and glorification of the body. St. Paul seems, indeed, to touch upon some mental change, as necessary for our adaptation to the immortal state, where, comparing our degrees of knowledge in this life, with our improved knowledge hereafter, he says, " Now we see through a glass darkly, but then, (that is, in the mature immortal state,) face to face ; now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known." To what height of intellectual stature the human mind may ultimately arrive, is impossi- ble for our present limited capacities to conceive. It would be as absurd for us to describe the latent powers and facul- ties which may be unfolded, in our exal- MORAL DISCIPLINE. 465 tation to celestial existence, as it would be for a cliild to estimate the depths of reasoning with which the future philoso- pher will pursue his calculations. We now come to the most important respect in which discipline, temporal and spiritual, is necessary, and in which the state of childhood is again analogous to that of Christian probation. There is necessity, as we observed, for a moral preparation, as well as for the physical and intellectual. And the momentous distinction, which gives superior interest to his moral progress, is, that it can, to a great extent, be effected in the present life. Much depends upon ourselves. We cannot, indeed, by the mere exertion of our will, prepare our bodies for a glorified condition. Neither can we raise our in- tellect to angelic eminence ; but with respect to virtue and religious conduct, fitness for heaven is, by the grace of God, within the power of us all. Although, as our Lord declares, we are unable, " by taking thought, to add one cubit to the stature of our bodies;" and although we find ourselves still more unable, " by taking thought," to expand our minds into a comprehension of all mysteries, and of all knowledge; yet, "by taking thought," we are able, through the wis- dom and benevolence of our Creator, to make continual approaches, morally, to- wards fitness " for the kingdom of God." This fitness, now to be explained, cor- responds exactly with the moral training which prepares the heart in childhood for the duties of more advanced age. The child, without such moral training, could not be trusted. To be admitted safely into society or domestic life, he must acquire previous habits of obedience, docility, and submission to authority — habits of justice, truth, and charity — habits of attention, industry, and self-con- trol. These moral requisites, it must be obvious, are yet more indispensable for admission into the society of celestial beings. Man, considered here below, in the infancy of an immortal existence, must be trained to higher degrees of mo- ral excellence, in proportion to the pure and holy character of that community above, which he aspires to. His aim is Vol. L— 59 to dwell with God — to be for ever with his Redeemer — to join the company in heaven. In order to dwell with CJod — in order to be happy in communion with him, by the exercise, throughout eternity, of praise for his ])erfrctions, and of thanks- giving for his mercies, pidy must have been habitually cultivated in this tempo- ral, this initiatory state. In order to be fitted for social intercourse with the purest and holiest of created beings, unit- ed in the bonds of perfect spiritual affec- tion, without the smallest taint of envy, hate, or selfishness, the Christian aspirant must have first subdued, in his course of earthly fellowship with his brethren of this world, the influence of every baser passion, and must have made some pro- gress in the attainment and in the practice of that " charity which never faileth." Let, therefore, my brethren, this all important truth, the necessity of piety and charity, or, in one word, of holiness, with a view to fitness for the kingdom of God, be continually present to your minds. Beware of superficial and inoperative Christianity. Add to your faith virtue. Remember, that besides a title to future happiness through the merits of your Redeemer, you must be moreover qualified to enjoy that happiness. Besides being redeemed and justijied, you must be sanc- tifed. You must read, and learn, and study the word of revelation, and put your knowledge into practice. This knowledge and this practice must not be partial and variable, ostentatious and Pharisaical, but must be consistent, pro- gressive, universal, and sincerely influ- encing your dispositions, tastes, and feelings. Destitute of these qualifica- tions, the claimant for heavenly blessed- ness will be found wanting, however plausible his pretensions, and, like the individual in the text, will be unfitted for God's kingdom. IL A second circumstance of analogy between childhood considered as intro- ductory to riper years, and the present life regarded as preparatory for the life to come, is, that the discipline in both cases is often paivful and mysterious. A child placed under wise and prudent guardianship, is subjected to treatment 466 THE BRITISH PULPIT. often o^rievously irksome to him, which ' acute and linnreriniT diseases, losses, fiard he is quite unable to account for at the time of its infliction, however useful or necessary he may eventually find it. His appetites are under troublesome restraint — his passions under severe control or suppression. His mental faculties are forced into application which he finds distasteful, and considers useless. His patience during sickness is grievously tried by the use of remedies to which he would prefer the disease, and which he finds himself incapable of understanding ; or perhaps in health, his manners, looks, words, and gestures, must submit to Watchful and vexatious superintendence, of which no account or explanation is satisfactorily given. Above all, his sinful tendencies, engendered by hereditary cor- ruption, his selfishness, his pride, anger, or obstinacy, must be checked and over- come. Reproofs, remonstrances, and even chastisements, must be reiterated, which he cannot possibly reconcile with parental kindness and indulgence. At length, however, he attains to manhood, and is presented with a very different view of things. The mystery clears up — the pain- ful discipline is accounted for — his com- plaints and repinings at the severities of education are discontinued. He perceives their importance and necessity ; he con- fesses that a contrary system of neglect, or of unlimited indulgence, would have either brought him to an untimely end, or have presented him to the world an ob- ject of mingled pity and disgust, diseased and infirm, ignorant, headstrong, and un- teachable, a burden to himself, and a nuisance in society. Analogous, my brethren, to this whole- some process of education and tuition, and not less painful nor less mysterious, is the discipline by which, in this world, our heavenly Father prepares his moral off- spring for the world to come. " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." Similar, also, to the murmurings of child- hood are the sentiments of doubt, and suspicion, and distrust, excited by the unsearchableness of his judgments. The misfortunes and casualties, and vexations of every kind, incident to humanity ; ships, and privations, infirmity aid bad propensities within, and from without bad example, wicked suggestions, and the provocations of injustice, of treachery, of oppression; tiie facility, above all, of acquiring evil habits, and the difficulty of removing them ; these various evils under God's providential government, pre- sent to our maturcr years an aspect not less revolting and incomprehensible, than in early days the restraints and corrections of our childhood. In the gloom of ad- versity, we are visited with disquietudes and searchings of heart in resprct to the design of our Maker in creating us, and to the pros])ect of our future destiny. We arp tempted at such trying seasons, to allege that greater tenderness and indulg- ence should be expected from God ; and that a course of life, less imbittercd by suffering, and less exposed to snares and hazards, would be more compatible with our relationship as children of the univer- sal Father. We ask, in ignorant impa- tience, Why subject us to discipline at ain If discipline is to "fit us for the kingdom of God," why not at once create us in that state of fitness 1 Why not at once communicate the character which, by a painful process, is now slowly and uncertainly matured 1 The best reply to such interrogatories, my brethren, would be to put into the mouth of a child the corresponding ques- tions : — why, before entering into com- merce with the world, he is placed in a preparatory condition, and is not rather born at once in man's estate, with all his powers, bodily, as well as mental, in their full development? To these questions of impatient youth, the answer of his in- structersis obvious. " You would, in that case, be as completely unqualified for the life of mature age, as an idiot; the most solitary recluse, after a life of separation from mankind, brought suddenly into society, would be better able to conduct himself. The novelty of your situation would distract you with astonisliment, apprehension, curiosity, and suspense. A long period would elapse before you would so far be familiarized with yourself and with the objects around you as to engage MORAL DISCIPLINE. 467 in any rational pursuit. Your language I tliers of our own flesh, which corrected (suppose you capable of speech) would us, and we gave them reverence ; shall be offensive from your want of habit in we not much rather be in subjection to the adapting it to the taste and sentiments of others ; your manners, for the same rea- son,would be rude and forward, impetuous and insupportable. Your ignorance, too, of every useful art, joined to your inapti- tude for acquiring knowledge, would ren- der you incapable of earning your subsist- ence. In every valuable respect, you would come forth into society a helpless creature, unformed, unfinished, utterly de- ficient, and unqualified for that mature condition into which you rashly thrust yourself, without the requisite information and experience."* The incapacity we have just described of a supposed human agent attempting to engage in human affairs, without the natural preparation of childhood and of youth, may illustrate what we have reason to believe would be man's unfitness, without the discipline of a previous life, for the society and occu- pations of heaven. Such an intruder into the heavenly mansions would find him- self as awkward and unprepared, and as incapable of comfort or enjoyment, as if he had been born full grown into the pre- sent world. However painful then, my brethren, however mysterious the discipline to which we are subjected in this life, let us place implicit confidence in the wisdom and goodness of our heavenly Father. The tendency of all the sorrows and privations that we can suffer, is to foster in our hearts the very dispositions, the very fitness, which we must cultiv^ite for the kingdom of God. Adversity, as St. Paul informs us, not only tries, but produces virtue ; not only ascertains our capacity for eternal happiness, but increases it. "Tribulation toorketh patience; our light affliction, which is for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Indeed, our whole argument for resignation under the painful and myste- rious discipline which prepares, or (as I would rather phrase it) educates us for heaven, may be summed up in the words of the same apostle to the He- brews,— " Furthermore, we have had fa- * See Bishop Butler's Analogy. Father of spirits, and livel for they, veri- ly, for a few days chastened us, after their pleasure ; but he, for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness." HI. The third analogy to be considered has reference to procrastination, namely, that as growth in childhood, and progress towards man's estate, must be begun im- mediately from the hour of birth, so also our preparatory discipline for immortality admits no delay. The infant is no sooner born than he begins to breathe, to take food, and to per- form whatever vital functions are essential to his nourishment and preservation. No long time elapsesbeforehis nature prompts him to that activity and restlessness so remarkable in children, and so importantly contributing to their growth and advance- ment. As soon as his tongue is able to articulate, his boundless curiosity, amidst a universe of entirely new objects, invites him to ask continual questions, by which not only his faculty of speech is perfected, but his understanding ripened and in- formed. These, and many other processes, mental and corporeal, the new formed human creature begins in infancy without procrastination, and carries on without intermission through the several stages of childhood and youth ; taking daily food and exercise, and, by new inquiries, add- ing daily to his stock of knowledge, till he reaches manhood, and then, at length, in the full maturity of all his faculties, is admitted to the intercourse, employments, and pleasures of rational society. But this progress, physical as well as intellectual, unless commenced at the proper period, would be attended with constantly in- creasing difficulty, and would at last become impossible. Thus, if the child should not begin at once, and regularly continue taking food and exercise, his body would either perish, or be stinted in its growth. If he neglected practising in early life his faculty of speech, the organ would soon lose its pliability, and become unfitted for articulation. Or if, farther, he should omit to use this faculty for pur- poses of inquiry, if he should delay all 468 THE BRITISH PULPIT. study and observation during infancy and youth, while his memory is retentive and his habits susceptible of improvement, the powers of his understanding, thus continually dormant, and never called into waking exercise, would every day become more sluggish, and be at last inca- pable of development. These simple and acknowledged facts, with regard to the present life, should lead ns naturally to anticipate corresponding facts in connexion with our discipline, preparatory to future immortality. That discipline, to be successful, must be early; to be effectual, must not be delayed. The difficulty is augmented rapidly by each successive act of procrastination. Our evil habits and propensities are daily more confirmed the longer they continue in operation. Our vicious practices strike deeper root into our nature, our resist- ance to the impressions of religious truth becomes continually more inveterate. Familiarity produces indifference, until at length, as years advance, and old age draws on, a change of character is almost hopeless, and then follows death, which extinguishes all capacity of farther growth or progress, and renders change of charac- ter impossible. The best practical deduc- tion from the foregoing statement is powerfully made by Solomon, "Whatso- ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might ; for there is no work, nor de- vice, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest." This life is the only time allowed us to prepare for the next. No second opportunity can be hoped for. As, my brethren, there is no state granted to man of second youth, in which the errors of the first might be re- deemed ; so after death, there is no second life on earth, in which we might com- mence again the race of immortality. "As the tree falls, so must it lie." Delay not, then, preparations which are indis- pensable— preparations which every day are more difficult to be made — prepara- tions which cannot at last be made at all. IV. There remains one more analogy between infancy as an introduction to manhood, and the present life as intro- ductory to life eternal, viz., that this pre- paratory discipline is, in both cases, often infffedual. Of the children born into the world, a very small proportion ever reach maturity. The far greater number are, by various causes, brought to an untimely end ; per- haps by inadvertency and folly of their own ; perhaps by the violence and op- pression of others ; perhaps by accident, by sickness, or by premature decay. The same observation may be extended to the lower animals, and still more forcibly to plants, the seeds of which are in so many ways exposed to destruction, that we can scarcely find one seed escaping among the millions which fall away and perish. These millions appear absolutely lost and wasted, so intent does nature seem on bringing one plant to maturity, as to think the loss of any number for that purpose comparatively insignificant. And yet those seeds or germs Avhich are prema- turely destroyed, and those which hap- pen to attain full growth, were at first created, equally and indiscriminately, capable of the perfection at which so few arrive. Facts like these, my brethren, within the knowledge and observation of every human being, suggest a question the most awful that can enter the human heart. Does the spiritual world present similar phenomena to what we have here remark- ed in the natural"? Is there in the case of man, considered as an immortal being, any thing analogous to the profusion and apparent waste exhibited in the works of nature around nsl As the seeds of plants are designed for vegetable life, so is man designed for future happiness. Is that design often frustrated ? Are there many who never reach the perfection for which they were created, and who are finally rejected as unfit for the hmgdum of God? In short, are there few that be saved? In making answer to this question, the conclusion to which we must arrive, whether we look around us in society, or consult the oracles of God, is most appal- ling. We see few appearances warranting a belief, that the discipline to which men are subjected in this world produces the effects intended ; on the contrary, we die- MORAL DISCIPLINE. 469 cover fearful indications that the present state, so far from eventually proving a school of virtue, proves to the greater number, through their perverseness, an actual school of vice. Circumstances calculated for their moral improvement ; circumstances calculated to produce in them dispositions fit for heaven, seem rather to have an opposite effect, and to strengthen them in sin. Prosperity, in- stead of exciting gratitude to God, in- flames self-confidence. Adversity, instead of working acquiescence in the divine will, confirms impatience and irritability. The contemplation of other men's dis- tress makes more impenetrable the heart which ought to have been softened. In- creased acquaintance with religious mo- tives, continually withstood, turns half compliance into habitual opposition. These alarming reflections are rendered more alarming by corroborative state- ments in the word of God. We all are well acquainted with the solemn admoni- tion of our Lord, " Many are called, but few are chosen." We all know what he added in confirmation of that often re- peated warning, " Many widows were in Israel in the days of Elias, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, when great famine was through- out all the land, but unto none of them was Elias sent, save unto Sarepta, a city of Sidon, untoa woman that was a widow. And many lepers were in Israel in the days of Eliseus the prophet, and none of them were cleansed, saving Naaman the Syrian." To the same effect is elsewhere the declaration of Christ, "Broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be that go in thereat; narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." Of the same fearful im- port is the language of the apostles, " Though the number of the children of Israel," says St. Paul, " be as the sand of the sea, ^remnant shall be saved." And St. Peter, as a caution against sluggish- ness and indifference, points to the ark of Noah, wherein few, he observes, that is, eight souk, were saved from the waters, when an entire world was overwhelmed. Understanding these texts in the mildest sense which they admit of, we find them tremendously significant. They mora than warrant our assertion, that as a child, though certainly designed to attain the natural perfection and maturity of man- hood, often fails of reaching it, and comes to an untimely end ; so, in like manner, man, considered as an immortal being, under discipline to prepare him for the perfection and felicity of heaven, falls short of heavenly blessedness in numerous and terrific instances, and is ruined, finally, totally, irretrievably. There is, however, one most important distinction to be carefully kept in view, namely, that the failure of the child in reaching manhood is often caused by cir- cumstances which he neither can prevent nor control ; whereas the failure of the man to attain eternal life is always caused by himself — by his own folly, his own negligence, his own perverseness. Ever- lasting happiness is offered to the accept- ance of all : the trials and temptations incident to the present world are designed to mature in us that character which shall qualify us for the next. The assist- ance, above all, of the Holy Spirit, the author of all holy desires, is vouchsafed us, that we may pass through those trials and temptations with success. " The Spirit is given to every man to profit withal." If, therefore, we reject, or if we fail to profit by the precious gift, the fault is in ourselves. Be instructed, 0 wavering Christian I by the counsel of your Redeemer. Strive — exert every faculty you possess, to enter ill at the strait gate ,- fur many, I say unto you, shall seek — that is, shall use some feeble efforts, to enter in, but shall not be able. First, secure a title to future hap- piness, by believing on the name, and relying upon the merits of the Son of God, and then proceed with strenuous- ness, with courage and perseverance, under the guidance of God's Spirit, in the discipline of holy preparation. Be STRENUOUS, for you see that weak endea- vours are unavailing. Be courageous, for God will not suffer you to be tempted above that you are able. Be persever- ing, for " No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for I the kingdom of God." 2R SERMON LII. ADDRESSED TO THE YOUNG. BY THE REV. JAMES BENNETT, D.D. ' Then Jesus, beholding him, loved him, and said unto him. One thing thou lackest." — Mark x. 21 You know, my young friends, that a certain proud and prosperous king, Bel- shazzar, when in the midst of a royal feast, and surrounded by festivity and apparent security, was suddenly disturbed by seeing a mysterious hand — the hand of God — writing upon the wall, in letters of light, these remarkable words, — " mene, MENE, TEKEL, upHARSiN;" and you are aware that a certain inspired prophet, an infallible interpreter, explained the mys- terious words to mean — " Thou art weigh- ed in the balances, and art found wanting." Our Lord Jesus has come this night, pre- senting himself to you, weighing a young man in the balance, and pronouncing him wanting. What if the flame which is- sues from the lamps in this place were all to fly off, assuming upon the wall the form of letters, and, when you came to look at these letters of light, you saw the word TEKEL, and you recollected the meaning: for the prophet had told you it signified — "Thou art weighed in the balance, and art found wanting I" If I present Christ to you to-night thus weighing a young man and pronouncing him wanting, do not think it unkind ; happy had it been for Belshazzar had he taken the warning that had been given him ; for that very night Belshazzar was slain : — and who knows but this night you may die? Well will it be for you if you take the warning, and, before you die, recover from that state in which you are wanting, and be found accepted before God. I would, then, remind you that you 470 have a very kind and gracious judge in this person who here weighs you ; and I shall show you how kind, and consider- ate, and impartial he is ; for I shall en- deavour to point out to you the two scales of this balance, and show you, first, what is in the scale that is favourable to you ; and, secondly, what is in the scale that is unfavourable; for you see that my text, on the one hand, declares that — "Jesus beholding, loved the young man ;" while, on the other, he declared to him — " one thing thou lackest." I. What is there in the scale that IS favourable to vou? If I had nothing else to say but that God has been very gracious to our fallen race — that he has so loved the world as to give his only begotten Son, that whoso- ever believeth upon him might not perish, but have everlasting life — that the Son of God has assumed our nature, has trodden upon the same earth on which you tread — that he breathed this air that you breathe — that he went about continually doing good, and, at length, poured out his precious blood upon the cross for our salvation — that he commissioned this to be proclaimed to every creature, and in- vited all men to come unto him that they might be saved — and that his own Spirit accompanies this proclamation, and breathes upon the minds of men for their conversion and salvation — you would say, this is, indeed, a weight in the scale in our favour. But our text speaks of some peculiar regard that Jesus had to the young man here — for that he was young TO THE YOUNG. 471 another evangelist assures us. There are several peculiar things that are in your favour; they may be comprehended un- der the three following: — The first is, many of the qualities of youth are favour- able to religion, and as such Christ re- gards them ; the second is, that many of the words of the sacred Scriptures are favourable to the hope of your conversion, and as such you ought to regard them ; and the third is, that many of the deal- ings of God confirm all these hopes, and should inspire you with the most earnest desire to enjoy the same blessings. 1. There art many of the qiialilies of youth which are favourable to religion, and as such Christ regards them. When he saw this young man coming, it is said — "he loved him," though he pronounced him wanting, and the young man went away sorrowful. Yet Christ loves whal is good, as far as it goes, though there may not be that spiritual good which is the object of his complacency and of his moral approbation, and which will secure our everlasting salvation. When Christ looked abroad upon this world, he viewed all the works of God with complacency and benevolence. If he saw the lily of the field, he beheld its delicate beauty — if he saw the lark mounting upward to the sky, he saw it with pleasure, " The Lord rejoiceth in all his works ;" — his benevolent heart delighted to see the beauty and glory which God had diffused over the works of his hand, and he said — " These are thy works, Almight5' Father, Thine this universal frame, thus wondrous fair. Thyself how wondrous then!" Well, the vSaviour who saw the lily and heard the lark with pleasure, never could look at spring in the countenance of youth without that comprehensive approCation which he felt towards the material works. The glowing countenance of youth, the sparkling eye, the bounding limb, the overflowing spirits, the warm affeclions, the retentive memory, the ardent imagi- nation, the burning zeal, the noble, gfene- rous daring of youth — all these things have their charms, and, as far as they go, though they are but natural excellpncies, they are objects of complacency and ap- probation. When our Lord sees in youth a sort of open frankness, difli'erent from the cold, cautious, cunning reserve of an old practised sinner, Christ prefers the frank, open, bland spirit of the youth to the serpentine spirit of an aged sinner; and, although it is something natuial, not spiritual, yet Christ has a regard for it as a natural excellence. That tender, warm aflfection which children feel — that ten- dency to contract a friendship — to open their bosom — to give out their hearts to receive what is kind and amiable, and to give it a frank and warm reception, all this is quite congenial with the Saviour's mind, it suits his own open, kind, and affectionate bosom. And that tendency to receive a testimony — that readiness to receive what is told them, and not to sus- pect lies upon every lip, but to be dispos- ed, until they find things false, to believe them true, even that also, which is the natural temper of youth, is an excellence ; for if sin had never entered we should never have formed a conception of any body deceiving us. Now, it is vcr\' true that, with all this simplicity of the dove, we ought to unite the wisdom of the ser- pent; but if we cannot unite them — if they must be separated, as they too fre- quently are — give us the dove, take who will the serpent! Now, our Lord saw this spirit in the young man, and it was to his eye a pleasing sight as far as it went. The retentive memory that lays hold of the truth and keeps it fast, that makes youth fit for the learning time, was also, in our Saviour's ej^e, a pleasing sight, rendering, as it does, the mind a sort of secure storehouse for truth. Now, all these things are favourable to religion. Religion asks for your open heart — religion asks for a believing mind that can confide in a friend who tells the truth, and does not wish to deceive you. Religion calls for the faithful memory that stores up divine truth, and remem- bers Jesus Christ, who, of the seed of David, was sacrificed for us, 0. There are words in the Scripture — promises in the holy book — that are pecu- liarly favourable to you, and should inspire 472 THE BRITISH PULPIT. your hope. With what delight does the holy man adduce these words ! He seems to pour out all the stores of sacred eloquence to trace the old age to the life — you see it wrinkled, old, decrepit, peevish, stooping, going down to the grave; and for what 1 — hut that you may hearken to the voice which stands at the head of it — " Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them." How large a part of the book of Proverbs is addressed to the young ! " Hear, O my son ! the instructions of thy father, and forget not the law of thy mother." How many have been touched to the heart with these words — and they are fit to touch the heart — " I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find me !" This one assurance, that God has a peculiar regard to those that seek him early, is a most delightful encouragement to the young. "When our Lord Jesus is described as a shepherd, he gathers the lambs in his bosom. What a world of affection and delight does this open to your view ! — your Redeemer seeking, and feeding, and nourishing, and delighting in the affections of the children. He carries them in his bosom, and warms and nourishes them in the love of his own heart. There is nothing like this said to encourage any one to put off religion to old age ; but, oh, what is said to encourage the young to come to Christ ! The fact is, that there is not one word in all the Bible that is specifically intended to encourage persons to defer religion to the time when they grow old — every thing is said against this. But there is much to encourage you to embrace reli- gion when you are young. 3. Remember that, as the word, so the works of God — his works of grace — coii- jirm these things that are said, so earntstly, to encourage you. A large part of those who are ignorant of religion think that it is a thing only for old age — very proper when men have grown old, but very unfit for them while they are young ; it does not sit well upon young people ; and they are, therefore, for deferring it to old age. Now, you will observe that all who are of this opinion are utterly ignorant of re- ligion. They know no more of what religion is than a blind man knows of light and colours. Precisely the re- verse of this is the opinion of all who know religion. They say that youth is the proper time for religion. Look at the religious societies where the gospel is not preached, where salvation by works is proclaimed, and where religion is placed in external forms and ceremonies — there you will see at prayers none but the old and decrepit; but look at those congregations where the gospel is preach- ed, and where the nature of spiritual re- ligion is understood, and God is worship- ped in spirit and in truth — there you will see at prayers the young ; and a large proportion of those who join together in voluntary associations for prayer to the mercy-seat of God are young people. The fact is, where religion is truly un- derstood, it is regarded as the ornament, the glory, the bliss of youth ; so that the earlier it is possessed the better. And where religion is not understood, and a gloomy superstition is substituted for it, there it is very natural to say, the later the better. Now, let me remind you that the works of God confirm his words. Perhaps not one in forty is converted after the age of forty ; and perhaps ninety- nine out of a hundred who know any thing of real religion are converted somewhere about twenty. This is a solemn consi- deration, let me attempt to impress you Svilh it. Suppose you had fallen into a dream, and you thought you saw an im- mense plain crowded with persons of all ages, from the young and the middle-aged to the old and decrepit; and you saw the Saviour of sinners descend in all his ma- jesty and glory, and passing through this crowd, taking more from the ranks of the young, fewer from the ranks of the mid- dle-aged, and much fewer still from the aged, conducting them to a gate, and ad- mitting them within, on which was writ- ten this inscription — " Strait is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that go in thereat;" — suppose, on waking in the morning, you were to tell this dream to an aged friend, and he was to say, last night I TO THE YOUNG. 473 dreamed exactly the same dream, and saw- exactly the same representation — a few old people, more in the middle life, but the great body of those that entered in at the gate of life were young men. When I awoke, said the old man, I trembled as the aspen leaf, and the bed shook under me, and I thought I was come to that time of life when it was too late to be converted. And would you not say, I was glad when I awoke ; for the greater part of those that are converted are con- verted at the happy period of my time of life. Well, my young friends, this is not all a dream. It is the solemn, serious, fact of the case, that the greatest part of those who are converted are converted in youth. There is nothing, indeed, to cut off any from hope ; but such is the fact ; read the history of those who have be- come real Christians, and you will learn that the grace of God touched their hearts while they were yet young. And when you find exceptions you look upon them as a rarity, a wonder of grace, and you say, happy is it for you that you have escaped that fearful ruin that generally comes upon those who put off religion to old age. But now, my dear young friends, I would turn to the second part of the sub- ject. And I shall endeavour to point out — II. What is in the scale that is AGAINST YOU. " One thing thou lackest," says Christ ; and that was the one thing needful ; for "he went away sorrowful." There are three things in this opposite scale that are against you. 1. The first is that all that is merely amiable and hopeful in nature is not grace, nor is it at all really valuable in Code's sight. — It is not true virtue or holiness. It is, indeed, as far as it goes, pleasant to the eye, and better than the opposite sort of things. That openness of mind, that frankness of disposition, that readiness to credit a report, that retentive memory, that bounding, ardent spirit, that noble, generous zeal which youth feels, when undertaking any thing, to do it thoroughly well — all these are, indeed, lovely in their is nothing in nature, considered in itself, that is spiritual, holy, worthy to be ap- proved of the moral governor of the world, or that will stand the scrutiny of the last day. " In us, that is, in our flesh, there dwelleth no good thing." Mere nature has nothing but what is sinful. Exa- mine it into the very core, and it will all be foun'd wanting; for there is not in our fallen nature any real love to God, any genuine love of holiness, any true hatred of sin, any real reliance of soul upon Christ, or any desire for God's glory. All these things, that are the essence of what is truly lovely, spiritually amiable and good, are wanting in us. So that, whatever excellence there may be in your youth, and whatever your earthly parents may approve in you, there is nothing, where there is no holiness, that the holy law of God can approve. You sometimes may, perhaps, have seen the corpse of a departed friend, and if you have seen more than one you may have observed, in some instances, a redness on the cheek that even sickness does not remove, and that attends them even to their coflin. Now, that flush upon the cheek will make a corpse look pretty, and sometimes the corpse will look so pretty that the friends will hang over it with delight, and kiss the cold cheek that seems to repel the token of affection ; but, after all, remember this is only the loveliness of a corpse; and, whatever excellence you may have as amiable young people, yet, unconverted, it is the cheek of the rose with the heart of the corpse. " Dead in trespasses and sins" is the character which God pronounces yours. Now that is a weight in the scale against you. 2. There is a second consideration, and it is that all those things that may appear amiable and lovely, if they are not sanctified by religion, will become hostile. To be frank and generous, unsuspecting in your mind, exposes you to receive whatever error may be presented to you, and makes you in danger of becoming the prey of the designing infidel, so that you may hearken to his specious lies, and swallow the gilded bait, and be for ever taken in the snare. That readiness of mind that you have to way — but they are not religion. There receive a rl^ort, and to treasure up what Vol. L— 60 2 r 2 474 THE BRITISH PULPIT. you hear, may make your memory the storehouse of all impurity. You may recollect what is foul and filthy, and so filling the chambers of your memory, it may render your mind all that is loath- some to the eye of him who searches the heart, and who will finally make the scrutiny. My friends, remember besides this that you will nut always be young. You are not so young now as when you entered this place of worship ; while you are watching my lips you are drawing breath, it is go- ing out into the empty air, and shortly you will breathe it all away — it will be gone; well then, remember, if you grow old without religion, the peculiarities fa- vourable to religion in youth are gone. Instead of the frank ingenuous openness of the unsuspecting youthful mind, there will be the close, cold, suspicious one — the heart shut up against and impervious to the truth. The warm and feeling breast, that then was so ready to receive what was amiable and kind, will now be- come cold and chilled as the ices of the poles. The memory, that once was so quick to receive and faithful to retain, will become treacherous and slippery, so that you will forget what you heard yes- terday. All those qualities that were once so favourable to religion will be ex- changed for all that is most unfavourable. And if you defer religion in the days of your youth, how soon may you become the aged sinner, who says " the days are come when I have no pleasure in them !" 3. But let me entreat you to remember, in the last place, that, if the grace of God prevent not, all the promises of youth may perish in everlasting despair. For youth is not immortal; though you are young now, you may die while you are young, and if you are still waiting, and refusing to embrace Christ and give up yourselves to him, while you hesitate, death may be deciding, and while you may be saying, " not to-day. Lord Jesus — to-morrow," — death may be saying, " not to-morrow, but to-day — this night thy soul shall be re- quired of thee." And if this should be the case, and you die unregenerate, unfor- given, having come to years of account- ability, having an understan(^ng to judge between good and evil, and a conscience to have warned you of your danger, and having had faithful counsels and every opportunity — if you die in your >ius, how melancholy is the consequence ! Then that glowing countenance blooming with youth, now withered and decayed, sinks down into all the darkness and gloom of the grave, and the blackness of darkness and everlasting fire gathers around you. Then that warm imagination, that once painted to itself fairy scenes of future feli- city, will be left to riot in all the dreadful conceptions of everlasting misery : — what it must be to spend an eternity of agony 1 Then the memory that might have been the treasury of divine truth, and stored up God's gracious words, will only recal all that will torment you — all your oppor- tunities and advantages, and all your own perverse abuse, neglect, and rejection of them all. Oh, why must all the flower of youth go down to perdition"? Why must the spring be blasted, and everlast- ing winter wither the soul? — Why must that which should have been consecrated to Jesus be for ever the subject of divine wrath? — and he that might have been a rose-bud in the Saviour's crown — his dia- dem of salvation — be a withered weed cast out to everlasting abhorrence and rejection? Remember, my dear young friends, how soon these sad reverses may happen. You are aware that young chil- dren frequently sicken, and sometimes die suddenly. Have you ever known one on whom consumption has seized? There may indeed have been a hectic flush upon the face, but there was the glassy brightness of the eye which inti- mated that all was not right within. They told you they were getting better ; they fancied it; but you saw that the get- ting better existed only in their imagina- tions, for every one else could perceive that they were sinking down into the grave. Remember that this deceptive disease is the disease of young persons. And let this warn you of the danger of deferring religion until sickness comes upon you. It is terrible that that very disease, the most likely to arrest you, may be the one you may die of, and you may die getting better — that is, in your TO THE YOUNG. 475 own apprehensions. Oh, then, hear the voice of the Saviour, now inviting you and saying, " Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest !" Now let me entreat you to take the fol- lowing COUNSELS, — 1. Never think you are too young to be converted, and forgiven, and saved, and given up to God, while you know that you are not too young to sicken, to die, to be judged, to go to heaven or hell. 2. Never take up with any thing short of true religion — the entire change of the heart by the power of the Holy Ghost — the true and full forgiveness of all your sins by faith in the blood of Jesus Christ. For only this sort of religion will do you any good. 3. Never be satisfied with having re- ligion— seek to abound in it. Not merely to be alive, but lively ; for, if religion is worth any thing, the more you have of it the better ; seek to have as much of God's image as can possibly be enjoyed upon earth. 4. Let me remind you that for this pur- pose you should study your own easily besetting sin, especially the sins of your youth — be warned against them — watch against them — strain all your efforts to oppose and destroy them, and ask by the grace of God to keep yourselves unspotted from the world. 5. For this purpose form a rule, lay down a plan for life, laying out every day as it ought to be spent, and as you will wish you had spent it when you come to die; for this purpose read daily the Holy Scriptures — consult aged and experienced Christians, and ask them how they would advise you to conduct yourself before God. 6. Lastly, seek to live not for your- selves, but to live usefully as well as safely. Do as much good as you can in the world, and as you are young, and have an influence upon the young, seek to wean them to the knowledge, and love, and service of Christ. It is a sad thing to leave the world before we have done any good in it. Exert yourselves, then ; and, if you have a short race to run, you will be a quick seizer of the crown. If you leave your friends soon upon earth, it will be to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better. This is the consum- mation of the felicity of true Christians to be with him where he is that they maj behold his glory. Amen. " Lebanon is not sufficient to burn, nor th» beasts thereof sufficient for a burnt-offering.' Wherewithal shall I come before the Lord, and find acceptance with the mos* high God] is a question, the solution of which must be of the greatest im- portance to a sinner. " All have sinned," say the Scriptures, and thou, O my soul, among the rest. But the same Scriptures assures us, that by an irrevocable law of heaven, no sinner can draw near to God, so as to find acceptance in his sight, but on the ground of an atoning sacrifice, which, according to the law, was to be laid on wood, and burnt together with it. But where is such a sacrifice to be found 1 and where the wood to burn it] The text tells me, " Lebanon is not suf- ficient to burn, nor the beasts thereof sufficient for a burnt-offering." Lebanon, high and extensive, the range of ten thou- sand beasts ; Lebanon, celebrated for the variety, beauty, largeness, and durability of its trees; Lebanon, with all its nume- rous herds, and lofty cedars, could not furnish a sacrifice sufficient to atone for the sin of our souls, nor wood enough to consume such a victim. Yea, the cattle on a thousand hills would have been re- jected ; nor could our first-born, the fruit of our body, have atoned for our trans- gressions. The redemption of the soul is precious, and nothing that sees corrup-< tion could equal it in value. Where shall I look 1 Whither shall I flee for help] Come, my soul, from Lebanon; look from the top of Shenir, Hermon, and all the celebrated mountains of Judea. Look to the place of skulls, the despised hill, with its cursed tree ; " the place of the pouring out of ashes :" the place where the carcases of criminals were in- dignantly thrown, as the ashes, the refuse of society. There you will find a full answer to your question, filling you with peace and joy in believing it. SERMON LIII. CHRISTIAN WORSHIP DELINEATED. BY THE REV. ROBERT BRODIE, A.M. ' Jesus mith unto her, Woman, believe me, the hour cometh when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worshij) the Father ; but the hour cometh, and now is, v>hen the true wor- shipper shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth : for the Father seekelh such to worship him."— John iv. 21, 23. We are informed, in the commence- ment of this chapter, that, when our Lord was passing through Samaria, the disci- ples went for a supply of provisions into the town of Sychar, while he waited at Jacob's well in the immediate neighbour- hood. As he rested there in the heat of the day, fatigued with his journey, a Sa- maritan woman came to the well to draw water, from whom he requested that she would "give him to drink." This re- quest, so little in the manner and spirit of the country to which his dress and accent bespoke him to belong, for the Jews had an implacable enmity towards the Samaritans, filled her with a surprise which she did not attempt to conceal. The surprise was increased on hearing the answer given to the question so much agitated between the two nations, and which, on discovering his prophetic cha- racter, she put to him. Whether Gerizim 'or Jerusalem had the preferable claim as a place of worship. Instead of assigning the superiority to either, an exclusive claim was denied to both. This accords with the representations which the Scrip- tures every where give of the liberal spi- rit of the Christian system, in conformity to which the disciples of Christ are, at this moment, assembled in so many dif- ferent places, under such a diversity of outward circumstances, with the same expectations of acceptance. The appropriate beauty of the house of God is the beauty of holiness. "The 476 hour cometh when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, wor- ship the Father. But the true worship- pers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth." I. Let us consider the negative descrip- tion of the character of Christian wor- ship— what it is riof. 1st. It is not sectarian. None present will suppose that T use the epithet sectarian in the sense in which it is often used, as descriptive of those who separate, however conscientiously from the established forms of the religion of their country. The attribute of Chris- tianity which I have in view, is directly opposed to the narrow feelings which this application of the epithet indicates.' Rightly interpreted, it describes a cha- racter not confined to any one class of the professors of religion, but extensively prevalent among all. At the period to which my text relates, it was not, as the Jew wished to maintain, exclusively ap- plicable to the Samaritan, nor is it now exclusively applicable to the advocates of dissent. He is the sectary, and he alone, who would introduce into religion the principle of monopoly, who neither sees nor wishes to see any thing good or praiseworthy beyond the limits of his own denomination. — Sectarianism is in the mind rather than in the outward act. There may be no separation from others in the one case, where there is, and where, unless all moral distinctions are to be CHRISTIAN WORSHIP DELINEATED. 477 confounded, there ought to be a separa- tion in the other. To assert that we are not justifiable in withdrawing from the communion of those whose religious prac- tices and principles we deem unscriptu- ral, would be to represent protestantism itself as a criminal schism. But our be- nevolent regards may be cherished to- wards those from whom we conscien- tiously separate. Though to us they appear to err, charity will lead us to hope that, in many cases, the errors are not wilful, and not inconsistent with general religious sincerity. In this world we " see darkly as through a glass." Even inquiring minds, with equal degrees of candour and zeal for the truth, may, in religious matters, arrive at very different conclusions. Party distinctions, as such, and separate from the motives in which they originate, and by which they are sustained, are of no importance in the sight of God ; and experience shows that they are but equivocal tests of character. In communions the farthest removed from the purity of scriptural requirement, sin- cere though misguided worshippers may be found. In communions, on the other hand, whose principles and forms are ad- justed with a professedly scrupulous re- gard to the divine injunctions, there may be little of that spirit which imparts to them their chief value in the sight of God. An exclusive religion can never be a scriptural one. Christianity reveals the way in which guilty creatures can be reconciled to God, and every one who, in faith and penitence, has received the proffered remedy, and whose faith ope- rates as a purifying principle, stands ac- cepted in the sight of heaven, whatever misapprehension in regard to subordinate points he may still cherish ; and to what- ever uncharitable judgment he may on this account be exposed among men, themselves equally fallible and imperfect. " Neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, shall men worship the Father. But the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth." 2d. It is not local. An improper estimate of the importance to be attached to particular places was alike the error of the Jew and Samaritan. In the former this feeling was strength- ened by the misappreliension or perver- sion of the divine direction given to his forefathers, " Unto the place wliich the Lord your God shall choose out of all your tribes to put his name there, even to his habitation shall ye seek, and thither shalt thou come, and thither ye shall bring your burnt-offerings ; and there ye shall eat before the Lord your God." To the most scrupulous observance of this injunction, no criminality could at- tach. It would have been highly pre- sumptuous to have offered sacrifice, or to have observed any of the annual festivals elsewhere. The error lay in ascribing an efficacy to the place independent of the character of the worshipper. An error of the same kind, but with less to justify it, was adopted by the Samaritan. He could not say that there was any di- vine command directing to the choice of Gerizim, as being particularly suited to the offices of religion. He could say, however, that tradition pointed it out as the spot on which Abraham and Jacob had worshipped. And he attached to it, on this account, a sanctity equal to that which the Jew claimed for the temple at Jerusalem. That the same superstitious spirit should still be seen among the vo- taries of false religion, is natural. The Hindoo, performing his weary pilgrim- age to the temple of his idol divinity, and the Mohammedan offering a similar tribute to the tomb of his prophet, are spectacles which the spirit of their respective sys- tems would have led us to expect. But what shall we say to opinions and usages equally superstitious among the profes- sors of Christianity ] What shall we say to the religious value which was for- merly, and is still, attached to a visit to the local scenes of our Saviour's miracles, and sufferings, and death ? What shall we say to those religious pilgrimages which are made to spots far less remark- able ? In what light, I might add, are we to view the religious veneration which is sometimes paid to consecrated build- ings] It is proper, where practicable, that particular edifices should be appro- priated to the worship of God ; but no peculiar efficacy belongs to these places. 478 THE BRITISH PULPIT. Even Zion, with all its sublime associa- tions, and solemn remembrances, has now ceased to be sacred. It is on the spirit, not the local situation, of the worshipper that his acceptance depends. " Neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, shall men worship the Father. But the true worshippers shall worship the Fa- ther in spirit and in truth." 3d. It is not external. To the mere forms of religion a very undue importance was attached, both by Jews and Samaritans. This was espe- cially the case with the former. There was a conformity to the divine require- ments in the constitution of the Jewish priesthood, and a splendour in their tem- ple services, which could not be claimed for the rival system. The improper spi- rit which these tended to cherish is too congenial to the depravity of the heart to be confined to a particular period or peo- ple. A dependence on mere outward ob- servance, and, when it is possessed, a glorying in ritual splendour, are equally the error of the superstitious part of the professors of Christianity. The same boastful terms in which the Jew was ac- customed to speak of the one, are still employed with reference to the other. It may be justly questioned, however, whe- ther these services are entitled to the very lowest species of merit which has been claimed for them — that of being adapted to impress the imagination, and whether it is not at first only, and on the minds of strangers, that this eflfect is produced. It is not those whose forms of worship are most simple, who have least of what may be called the poetry of religion. It is the truths presented to the mind, rather than the forms exhibited to the eye, by which the imaginative faculty is culti- vated. A Protestant peasantry will, per- haps, be found, in this respect, to have the vantage ground over a Catholic. The supplications of penitence, the hu- mility of faith unfeigned, the confidence of Christian hope, and the love of God in the heart, are the sweetest sounds, and the most delightful sight, and the most exquisite feelings which can enliven our devotion. But they are impressions which a pomoous ritual cannot impart, and for which, when wanting, it oiin be no substitute. " Neither in this moun- tain, nor yet at Jerusalem, shall men worship the Father. But the true wor- shipper shall worship the Father in spi- rit and in truth." II. Let us consider the positive descrip* tion of the character of this worship. 1st. It is spiritual. The mere homage of the lips, were it known to be so, would not be accepted by one man from another. The language of insincerity, however flattering, is just- ly considered as disgusting in the com- mon intercourse of life. And it cannot surely be less so when it is presented to an omniscient God. Even at a time when local and external worship was in its fullest operation, there was evidence sufficient that something more was ne- cessary to acceptance. No language could convey a more striking idea of the immensity of the object of worship, and of the spirituality required in the wor- shipper, than that employed by Solomon at the dedication of the temple. " Will God indeed dwell on the earth'? Behold the heaven, and heaven of heavens, can- not contain thee, how much less this house which I have builded ]" Similar to this was the language which, through Isaiah, was employed by God himself. " The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. Where is the house that ye build for me, and where is the place of my rest ■? To this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite heart, and who trembleth at my word." It is nevertheless true that, in one respect, outward observances had, under the former economy, a value alto- gether independent of the character of the worshipper. Being intended to prefigure and introduce a higher dispensation, they answered an important end, even when no spiritual qualities were possessed, and no spiritual benefits were received by the offerer. At the time when our Lord held this conversation with the woman of Sa- maria, the sacrifices, which were still observed with all the nicety of ceremo- nial precision, had lost none of their ori- ginal typical siffnificancy, though, in a great majority of instances, it was cus- CHRISTIAN WORSHIP DELINEATED. 419 torn, not intelligent piety, which dictated the observance. But no such secondary adventitious value belongs to the rites of Christianity. The age of typical insti- tutions is passed. Unaccompanied by the devout feelings of the v^orshipper, all outward observances are worse than use- less. It is not merely the rising incense and the bleeding victim, even the bended knee and outstretched hand, if inward principle is wanting, will be only a so- lemn mockery. " God is a spirit, and they who worship hira must worship him in spirit and in truth;" in spirit, as opposed to forms ; in truth, as opposed to shadows. 2d. It is filial. Terror in all ages has been the predo- minating spirit of idolatrous worship. This was the necessary consequence of the circumstances of the worshippers. With no higher illumination than unas- sisted reason, conscience tells us that we are sinners. Unassisted reason, how- ever, cannot impart to us the certainty of forgiveness. And if the certainty of this is not possessed, there is nothing to ex- clude the tormenting dread which must be the inseparable accompaniment of the consciousness of guilt. This feeling is, accordingly, strongly depicted in the outward features of idolatry. Its cere- monies have been principally deprecatory, or intended to avert punishment. The sanguinary rites of Moloch, so often re- ferred to in the Old Testament Scrip- tures, and in which human victims were the offering, have been widely prevalent. Of this revolting character were the druidical rites of our forefathers in this island. Of the same kind are the reli- gious rites of many heathen nations at this day. Nor is this the character of the rites only. The very hideous forms of their idols (those which have been brought from the South Sea Islands are an example) are a striking testimony to the fact that terror is the predominating feeling in the religion of those who are I destitute of the light of divine revelation. | The same feeling, though in a much smaller degree, characterized the worship of the Jews. Not that that highly privi- i ed people were left in uncertainty re- 1 specting the doctrine of forgiveness. In respect of the mode of it, their conceptions might be indistinct and imperfect. But there was no obscurity in regard to the fad; that being as clearly promulgated under the Jewish economy as it now is under the Christian. Accompanied, how- ever, as the information was with so many and such striking displays of sove- reignty and power, the feeling of awe was in most as prevalent as that of love. It was reserved for Christianity to merge these sterner attributes of the divine cha- racter in those that were more attractive, and, by one potent word, to dispel every vestige of terror from the minds of the worshippers. It is not in the relation of a king, sovereign, or master, that you are called on to approach the Divinity, but in the endearing relation of a father — a father who seeks only the happiness of his spiritual offspring, and whose charac- ter has been rendered palpable by the engaging attributes of Him who* is " the impress of his person." Fear is in this way supplanted by love, and a filial, not a slavish, spirit pervades our devotions. 3d. It is universal. Simple and spiritual in their nature, there is no place where the observances of Christianity may not be performed, and performed with acceptance. The proofs of this are coeval with its origin. How unlike to the spacious halls and the lofty arches of the Jewish temple was the upper room in which the members of the first Christian church were accus- tomed to meet ! Yet it was there that the principal prediction respecting New Testament times was fulfilled — that what was spoken by Joel, and reiterated by a greater prophet, was verified. "Sud- denly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like unto fire, and it sat upon each of them." How inferior even to the accommodations of the upper room were the circumstances of Paul and Silas in the prison of Philippi, and of John in the isle of Patmos ! Bat it was in the former of these cases that the devout ex- ercises of these holy prisoners were heard 480 THE BRITISH PULPIT. by God, as well as by their companions land, any more than it is necessary, ac- in bonds; and it was in the latter case cording to the literal import of some other that the privileges of the seraph were predictions, that all nations should be as- conferred on the saint, that the veil was sembled for worship in the ancient capi- removed from the beloved disciple which j tal of the Jews. "When these wanderino- concealed things future, and things ce- ' outcasts shall look, with penitence, to lestial from his sight. We admit that . Him whom their fathers pierced, their these things occurred in an age in which [ predicted restoration will be effected. In the administration of religion was in some i whatever place, or under whatever cir- respects supernatural, but there was no- j cumstances they are, they may then be said to be worshippers in Zion, and to be inhabitants of Jerusalem. Spiritual in their nature, their thanksgivings shall be " as incense," and the lifting up of their hands as the evening and morning sacri- fice. thing peculiar to that age in the accept- ance of the services of these primitive confessors. This was in no degree con- nected with the religious character of the place. When in later periods the true worshippers of the Father have been si- milarly situated in regard to outward accommodations, we doubt not but their services have been equally pleasing in the sight of heaven. Far different from the circumstances in which you are now placed was the lot, at a former period, of the godly in our own land. Theirs was not " the religion of cathedrals,'* or "the religion of churches," or even " the reli- gion of barns." It was on many occa- sions the den and the cave which re- sponded to the sounds of their devotions. But these devotions, springing from faith, and hallowed by suffering, mingled with the hallelujahs of angels, and the anthems of the spirits of the just. Nor are these remarks to be confined to periods of per- secution, or to the religious services of those who were its victims. We doubt not that there are thousands at this mo- ment engaged in the undisturbed ob- servance of the same ordinances with ourselves, in places which have been subjected to no forms of ecclesiastical consecration, and which have not been even exclusively appropriated to religious exercises, whose services will come up as " a memorial before God." And the period, if we mistake not the meaning of prophecy, is fast approaching when the universal character of Christian worship will be still farther and more strikingly illustrated in the restoration of that peo- ple to whose local religious predilections our text specifically refers. It is not ne- cessary to the fulfilment of the predic- tions, respecting that restoration, that the Jews should literally return to their own "By foreign streams they'll cease to roam. Nor weeping think on Jordan's tiood ,• In every clime they'll find a home, In every temple see their God." " Neither in this mountain, nor yet in Jerusalem, shall men worship the Fa- ther; but the true worshippers shall wor ship the Father in spirit and in truth." 1st. In the exercises of God's house let us guard against a superstitious spirit. The gross superstition of the Jew and Samaritan, to which the text refers, is not the error into which, at the present tiiue, we are most likely to fall. It may be presumed that there are few or none present who adopt the opinion that any circumstances of local character, or any forms of ecclesiastical consecration, can possess or impart any spiritual efficacy. All of us, however, are in danger of lay- ing too much stress upon the mere ex- ternals of religion. A very undue im- portance is often attached to the mere outward act by which we are initiated into the profession of Christianity. There are many who would be shocked at the idea of a child remaining unbap- tized, who would feel no compunction in the habitual neglect of all practical soli- citude for the spiritual interests of their offspring. Equally unscriptural and de- lusive is the confidence which is fre- quently derived from participating in the ordinance of the supper. To that ordi- nance it is too cominon to apply the lan- guage, and with the language the ideas, CHRISTIAN WORSHIP DELINEATED. 481 ol a popish ritual, and to suppose that there is a higher degree of acceptance in this than in any other divine appoint- ment ; and that this is necessarily con- nected with the mere act of observing it. These are opinions which the mode of its celebration, and the instructions which accompany it, have not always a ten- dency to counteract. The difference is palpably striking between the language of those who speak of high communion sabbaths, and the phraseology which de- scribes the commemorative rite by the simple designation of " breaking of bread," and which classes it with " the apostles' doctrine, and fellowship, and prayer." We need not say which of the two it is safer to adopt. No greater benefit can be derived from a formal observance of the supper than from a formal observance of any other institution of the gospel. The religion of the soul is the soul of re- ligion. If the heart is not right, no ordi- nance, however scriptural, can be accept- able. If the heart is right, it will give a value to every ordinance of divine ap- pointment. 2d. In the exercises of God's house let us guard against a formal spirit. To the importance of what are termed the sealing ordinances of our religion nothing disparaging is intended in the remarks which have been now made. Baptism, whether administered by im- mersion or effusion, whether an adult or an infant is the subject of it, is an im- pressive rite. By the application to the body of that element which cleanses from natural defilement, it exhibits to the eye the necessity of the spiritual purifi- cation of the soul, and points to the reli- gion, of which it is the introductory ordi- nance, as being the instrument in the hand of the Spirit of effecting this purifi- cation. " Sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word is truth." The lessons symbolically inculcated in the ordinance of the supper are not less important. The doctrines which it shadows forth and impresses on the mind are of the life of godliness. It is calculated to af- fect us deeply with the evil of sin, the love and condescension of the Saviour, and our obligations to serve him. But Vol. I.— 61 for this purpose it must be something more than an outward observance. "Bo- dily exercise profiteth little." The mere participation of bread and wine is not communicating. The fact which was in- tended to be exhibited in this commemo- rative rite must be remembered. The scene of Calvary must be realized. The death of Jesus, not so much in its tragic and sentimental as in its religious and doctrinal aspect and interest, must be present to our minds. Strangers to these feelings, you are symbolizing with the condemned practices of the church of Corinth. You liken a religious ordi- nance to an ordinary meal. You do not " discern the Lord's body." 3d. In the exercises of the house of God let us guard against a bigoted spirit. The devotional language and feelings of the first Christian worshippers were eminently catholic. It was not on those churches only to which the pastors minis- tered, on which they invoked blessings from on high, but on " all that in every place called upon the name of Jesus* Christ, their Lord." We come short of the Catholicism of their language, and still more of the Catholicism of their spi- rit. In none of the services of the house of God is this deficiency more discerni- ble than in that which of all others re- quired the predominance of opposite feelings. If the fence, as it has been sometimes called, which it is customary to draw round a sacramental table, had been intended to exclude none but those who were wanting in the principles, tem- pers, and conduct essential to the charac- ter of the Christian, it had been well. We cannot too frequently, or too earnest- ly, impress on persons of this description that their commemoration of our Re- deemer's death is unwarranted. The free communion for which we contend is not to be confounded with a promiscuous, indiscriminate communion. But it is not to the irreligious and immoral that the sentence of exclusion has been confined. In some cases it has been extended to all, however excellent their character, who had not the sectarian impress of the ad- ministrator of the ordinance. It is time that usages so unsuited to our comrau- 2 S 482 THE BRITISH PULPlT. nion exercises should be abolished and forgotten. The table at which you com- memorate your redemption is not yours. It is not the table of a sect or of a party. It is the Lord^s. It was the design, as it is the obvious tendency, of the ordinance of the supper to cherish unity of affec- tion— to make us feel while we out- wardly recognise the ties which bind us to the Christian brotherhood. We best fulfil the intentions of the Divine Ap- pointer of this service — we add equally to the pleasure and profit to be derived from it, when these brotherly feelings are indulged ; when, dismissing every bi- goted and sectarian sentiment from our hearts, we view it as " the communion of saints" — when our Christian affection is as wide as the terms of acceptance — when we can say, with the same sincerity with which the words were originally uttered, " Grace be with all who love the Lord Jesus Christ." You are insulting, instead of honouring your Redeemer, if you can approach the ordinance of love without love in your hearts — if you can raise your walls of partition and separa- tion in the very act of commemorating an event which was intended to break them down, and to introduce the faithful of every place, and of every name, " through one Spirit unto the Father." 4th. In the exercises of God's house let us guard against a slavish spirit. In those who have no revelation to as- sure them of forgiveness, the spirit of terror and bondage is what we are led to expect. In some periods of their history it was not surprising in the Jews them- selves. When Sinai exhibited the awful appearances which bespoke a present Deity, when the cloud rested on it, and the thunders rolled, and the lightning played on its hoary summit, we do not wonder that the spectators should have trembled. When a similar manifestation was made to Elijah, in the cave on Ho- reb, it was natural that he should cover his face with his mantle. Equally natu- ral was it, though it was only in vision, that when the Lord appeared to Isaiah, on a throne high and lifted up, he should have exclaimed, " Wo is me, for I am ndone ; for I am a man of unclean lips." But this spirit ill becomes us who are called to " the adoption of sons" — who hear not the thunder of an introductory economy, but " the still, small voice" of a sublimer dispensation. The trembling apprehensions which would be appropri- ate in approaching a throne of judgment, befit you not in approaching a throne of grace. Least of all do they befit you in exercises in which more than in any other they prevail — the exercises in which are displayed before you the symbols of your redemption, and the pledges of your for- giveness. It is joy, not terror, which on such an occasion becomes you — ^joy, that " the flaming sword" has been removed from the entry to the celestial paradise — > that we have not " a high-priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities ;" who on earth suggested the apology ft r his disciples, "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," and whom we can approach in the confidence that, at his Father's right hand, he is still making it for us. Imagine not, my brethren, that the possession of this filial confidence is the property only of a privileged few of the children of God, and that there must be a long course of religious services before yon can be entitled to appropriate the promises on which this confidence is founded. If we wait till we are entitled on the footing of merit to do this, we shall never enjoy the privilege. The ex- hibition of the divine mercy to sinners, and to backsliders, as well as others, will authorize you to appropriate them im- mediately, though it is in the spirit of penitence, and in the intention of obe- dience, that the appropriation is to be made, and though it is only in the prac- tice of obedience that it can be scriptu- rally maintained. Take then to your- selves the comfort which the invitations and promises of the gospel are so well fitted to impart; and when, in the devo- tional exercises of this house, you draw near to the Great Object of worship, in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, let it be under the elevating and encouraging recollection that it is to " his Father and your Father, to his God and your God." SERMON LIV. THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT. BY THE REV. W. R. TAYLOR, A.M. " Take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." — Eph. vi. 17, y X. X Many and important are the uses which the word of God serves, and many and interesting are the views in which it is exhibited to us. It is the instrument of our conviction, and conversion, and sanc- tification, and consolation, and growth in grace. By it we are wounded, and healed, and eiilightened,and revived, and strength- ened. It is the Jire which consumes our dross, and burns up our refuges of lies. It is the hammer which breaks our flinty hearts, and makes them contrite and plia- ble. It is the incorruptible seed by which we are born again ; by which that life is implanted in our souls, which shall flou- rish without decay throughout eternal ages. It is the/ooc? by which this life is sustained on earth ; the sincere milk by which, as new-born babes, we are nou- rished, and grow up unto the stature of >., perfect men in Christ. It is a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path : the light which discovers to us the path to glory, honour, and immortality; which makes known to us the way of life, the narrow way, the way everlasting; the lamp which guides our steps through the wilderness, which shows us the dangers with which on every hand we are beset, and so enables us to avoid them. It is the mirror in which we behold the glory of the Lord, on which we have a delinea- tion of the person, and the personal beau- ty, and excellence, and suitableness of the Lord of glory ; and in contemplating which, we are changed into the same im- age, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord. It is the oracle to which we may have recourse ia every season of doubt and difficulty ; the Urirn and the Thummim, by which we may in- quire of God, and have the way of truth and the path of duty made clear and plain before us. It is the casA-e< which contains y the pearl of great price ; the field in which the gospel treasure is hid ; the golden urn in which is laid up the hidden manna. It is the record of Jehovah's promises; the register of his dealings and of his works of wonder ; the testamentary deed in which the benefits of the Saviour's purchase are bequeathed to us ; and so, the charter of our inheritance, the hand which secures our enjoyment of it. It is also, as we here learn, the weapon by which we over-^ come all the enemies that would oppose ' us in our Christian course, and would prevent us from reaching the promised land. They overcame him, (it is said of those who are before the throne,) they overcame the enemy by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony. It is the Christian's sword, a weapon which he must have ever ready, which he must have ever girded by his side, that he may be prepared at all times to make use of it, as occasion serves. Take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. The sword of the Spirit. The reasons why the word of God is thus named, must be very obvious. They are two chiefly. 1. The Spirit of God is its author, the maker of this sword. It was he who framed and polished it. In plain terms, it was he who testified in the prophets and apostles ; it was he who moved them 483 484 THE BRITISH PULPIT. to speak and to write, and taught them what to say and record. Let this dispose us to value this weapon, — it is of heavenly manufacture. Satan's darts are forged in hell, and are impregnated with its fire. This is a weapon which has come down from heaven, the workmanship of him, by whose fingers the heavens and all the host of them were framed. The ancients feign, that some of their warriors had been provided with heavenly armour — armour which was proof against every mortal weapon. This every Christian warrior really has. 2. It is the sword of the Spirit, be- cause it is his agency which makes it effectual, and because by it, as an instru- ment, his agency is brought to bear on the soul, — it is the ministration of the Spirit, — it is ever accompanied by his Almighty power. Hence it is called quick and powerful, hence it is called spirit and life. Some persons call the word of God a dead letter. It is never so called by the Spirit who indited it. It is spoken of invariably as a word of life and light and power, — it is spoken of as a sharp two-edged sword. Why then, it may be asked, is it so often ineffectual ] We answer, properly speaking, it is never in- effectual. Would you call a sword inef- fectual because it did no execution in cases where it was not made use of or ap- plied 1 Would you say that it was in itself a powerless weapon, because it must be laid hold of, and pulled out of the scab- bard, and wielded by the arm, ere its power can be manifested 1 surely not. Now let the word of God be but embraced and made use of, and it is invariably the power of God unto salvation, it is inva- riably made effectual for the production of those glorious ends which it was in- tended to produce. It is not from any defect or powerlessness in it, as some would insinuate, but from our not apply- ing and using it, that these ends are not always effected. Let the gospel be brought to bear, let its power be but tried, and it will soon be manifested what power it possesses. In ascribing to it this power, we exclude not, of course, the agency of the Spirit of God. On the contrary, we say, that it is because it is the appointed instrummt of bringing his agency to bear, that it possesses this power. On this very account it is, that it is quick and powerful ; and on this ac- count, it is here fitly styled the sword of the Spiril, — not only the sword of his framing, but the sword which his power renders effectual. This sword of the Spirit, this weapon of truth, we are here directed to hike and use, as a chief part of our armour in the Christian warfare. For discovering how, and for what ends, we are to do so, it may be well for us, in the first instance, to consider it as made use of by the great Captain of our salvation. It. was necessary as a part of his suf- ferings in our stead, necessary as a means of bruising the serpent's head and of tri- umphing over him, and for other import- ant ends in the scheme of our salvation, that our surety should be assailed by the tempter, — should be assailed by Satan as the serpent, as well as by Satan as the devouring lion. Hence we are told that f Jesus was led up of the Spirit into the wilderness, to be tempted of the devil. In this season of trial it was, as you know, this sword of the Spirit, which our victorious leader then wielded, and by which he put the tempter to flight. " Thus it is written," was his answer to each insinuation urged ; and to that an- swer Satan could not, and durst not re- ply. He could not abide the edge of this sword. Satan, you will remember, never K attempted to answer our Lord's quotation of Scripture. He received that at once as a defeat; and instead of urging further the temptation, in answer to which the quota- tion was made, he straightway had recourse to another temptation. In this latter way, indeed, he tried his utmost might, he had recourse to the most powerful weapons he could use, but he found them utterly ineffectual. He found that not the slightest impression could be made ; yea, he found himself answered, in each case, in a way that precluded further attack. He found the edge of a sword turned to him, by which his own weapons were broken, and before which he was himself com- pelled to fly. But Christ did more than repel Satan's THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT. 485 attacks, and make him retire defeated from the contest. He carried war into his dominions, he attacked his strong- holds and destroyed his works, — on his cross he bruised the serpent's head. By his death he destroyed death, and him that had the power of death, even the devil, — defeated his master-device, and procured deliverance for the captives who were under his power. This deliverance he now in his exalted State applies and renders effectual. It was not enough that he procured for his people a title to de- liverance ; he must, and he does, by the power of his might, by the putting forth of his strong hand, and of his outstretched arm, grant them actual deliverance from their state of bondage. Now this sword is the weapon which he wields for this purpose. This is the rod of his strength, which he sends out of Zion, and by which he makes a willTng people in a day of his power. By this he continues to bruise the serpent's head, for by this he rescues sinners from his power. By this he makes Satan quit his hold of them, and brings them from darkness unto light, and from the power of Satan unto God. By this he still goes forth conquering and to conquer ; and with reference to this, may we address him in the Psalmist's words : — " Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty ; and in thy majesty ride prosperously because of truth and meek- ness and righteousness ; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things," — terrible things to thine enemies, while salvation is brought to thy redeemed. These ever go together. The day of ven- geance, said Christ, is in my heart, and the year of my redeemed is come. The day of Christ's death was peculiarly this ; but so also is the day in which his word is glorified, and sinners, by believing it, are saved. My friends, little as we may V think of the word of God, the sword of the Spirit, it is the terror as well as the torment of hell. When Christ sent out his seventy disciples armed with it, — sent them forth preaching the gospel of the kingdom, he said to them on their re- turn, I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven. Satan knows that his kingdom cannot stand before it ; and therefore it may well be a terror to him, when he sees him, who is most mighty, girding this sword upon his thigh, and coming forth to use it with his glory and with his ma- jesty. Now this sword, which the Lord him- self, the glorious leader in the spiritual warfare, made use of, and does still makti use of, in the ways we have declared, we, who call ourselves his followers, the sol- diers of Christ Jesus, are after his example to make use of also. We are to take and use it, as he did, for repelling Sataii's temptations, and for actually desiroyiiig his works. 1. When Satan comes to assault us, we are, as Christ our great pattern and example did, to take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, and with that weapon to oppose him. It is surely for our instruction and imitation, as well as for our encouragement in think- ing of his triumph, that our Lord's con- test with our great adversary is so mi- nutely recorded. Yes, as in his conquest, he has given us grounds of rejoicing, see- ing he conquered for us, so in the manner of his conquest, he hath left us an ex- ample, that we should follow his steps. He has shown us in what way we are to answer Satan, and with what arguments we are to repel his solicitations. We are not to reason with him, but to have recourse at once to the law and to the tes- timony. Satan can abide our reasoning, nay, most likely, if we contend with him on that ground merely, he will soon be able to overpower us, he will soon suc- ceed in taking away this armour in which we trust, and in turning it against our- selves. But the word of God he cannot abide. This sword of the Spirit, wielded J in the hand of faith, compels him to with- draw. Darkness is his element, and the light and purity of truth he cannot away with. With whatever violence he comes against us, though, as the prophet ex- presses it, he comes in like a flood, yet, if the standard of the Spirit of the Lord be raised up against him, he is instantly driven back with confusion. What have we to do then, but to endeavour to be- come well acquainted with this tried wea- 2s2 > 48G THE BRITISH PULPIT, pon, and to be much in exercising it, that we may become ready and expert in using it. In plain terms, to increase in our knowledge and faith and love of the word of God, and to be much in meditating on its declarations and commands and pro- mises, that we may know how we ought to answer Satan when he comes to assault and seduce us. 2. But we are to aim, not merely at the repelling of Satan's attacks, but at the /josi'/jzJt; destruction of his power. Christ came to destroy the works of the devil ; and in this also, we are to be followers of our glorious Head. We are to take our allotted part in this holy war. We are to aim at the destruction of the works of the devil, wherever they exist, by every means in our power. First. In an especial manner, and in the first instance, we are to aim at the de- struction of these works in ourselves. This is a chief and an essential point in which Christ's contest with the enemy differs from ours. He came as the holy One of God, to destroy sin in others: but he knew no sin himself. He was manifested to put away our sin ; but in him was no sin. He was manifested to destroy the works of the devil, but, yea for that very reason, it was necessary that the devil should have nothing in him. The contest between him and Satan was a contest be- tween light and darkness, between holi- ness and sin. On the one side, sin in all its malignity, on the other, holiness pure and unsullied as the light of day, or rather as the light which surrounds the throne of the Eternal, in which is no darkness at all. Say not that this destroys the analogy between the head and the mem- bers, as if his warfare and theirs were thus made of a totally different character. There is a close analogy notwithstanding. Do but consider how the case is. There are two great combatants, Christ and Satan, the holy One of God, and the wicked one. When Christ rescues a sinner from the power of the enemy, and implants a principle of holiness in his heart, then a contest, similar to the mighty one which he carries on with Satan, commences in that heart. The new man, the creation of Christ's Spirit, becomes opposed to the old man, the seed of the serpent yet remaining in the soul. Now it is only the new man, the new nature, which, in itself, however weak it may be, is essentially and only holy — which is related to Christ. That is his workman- ship, and it is renewed after the image of him that created it. The old man has no relation to Christ. It is connected with the serpent; it is part of his seed, and is that which is to be destroyed. It is as possessing a new nature, that any indivi dual becomes a combatant in this holy war ; and it is as possessing a new nature, that he becomes at all connected with Christ as his head and his Lord ; and it is as possessing a new nature, and not as possessing a new nature and an old, that he has any conformity to Christ, or that any resemblance between him and Christ is to be traced : and it is because the new nature is the reigning tprinciple in the soul; because the individual, in speaking of the old man, can say, not I, but sin that dwelleth in me; it is on this account, that in his personal character, he is ranked with the seed of the woman, and not with the seed of the serpent. The analogy between Christ and believers consists, not in the resemblance of their whole moral constitution, but in the resemblance of the new nature implanted in them, to his. To assert differently were to assert, that the Son of God was manifested in our nature and as the head of his body the church, to the end that he the head might be conformed to the members, instead of the members being conformed to him. We speak, you will observe, not of es- sential humanity, in which respect Christ was in all things made like unto his bre- thren ; but of holiness or sinfulness of na- ture, in which respect, he was not made like unto them, but they are to be made like unto him. My friends, this is the prize of our high calling, to be made like unto the Son of God, to have our nature assimilated to his — to have the human nature as it exists in us, conformed to what it was, and is, in him. In him it existed in more than its original purity. The purity of the snow is not to be compared with its unsullied spotlessness, as it was assumed THE SWOIID OF THE SPIRIT. 487 and maintained by him. Now to this we are to aspire ; and, though it belongs to the Spirit of Christ — that Spirit, who was on him without measure, and who, if we are Christ's, dwells in us also — to carry us onward towards this state of per- fection, and to purify us, even as Christ was pure, it belongs to us to make use of the means that are appointed, and which he blesses, for promoting this end. The Spirit works by means and instruments, and he works in us to will and to do. Now the word of the gospel is the great means of our sanctification, " sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word is truth." " Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you." Let us make use of this word, then, for promoting our cleansing ; or to return to the metaphor in our text, let us take the sword of the Spirit, that we may slay the remaining corruptions of our hearts, that y we, through the Spirit, may mortify the deeds of the body, that we may crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts. Oh ! there is much of the seed of the ser- pent, many of the works of the devil within us ,- and nothing but this weapon . — will destroy them. As it was by the manifestation of the Son of God, in our nature, that a death-blow was given to Satan's cause, and the destruction of his works secured; so it is by the manifesta- tion of the Son of God in our hearts — and what is the sword of the Spirit, the word of truth, but just a manifestation of Christ and a revelation of his glory ] — it is by the manifestation of the Son of God in our hearts, by the sword of the Spirit applied to our corruptions, that these corruptions, these works of the devil, are destroyed within us. Let us make use of this wea- pon then for this end. 2. But the works of the devil, wherever they appear, as well as in ourselves, are to be the object of our opposition and our enmity. Wherever they appear, we are to aim at their destruction, and, for this purpose, to take to ourselves the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God. In this point of view we mention two cases particularly in which this sword is to be used by us, in opposing error, and in seeking the conversion f^ of our fellow-sinners from sin to God. In opposing error we are to use this sword. Truth is an object worth the contending for. We are exhorted and commanded to contend earnestly in main- taining it. We are to resist, if need be, even unto blood. Error, on the other hand, especially if it be dangerous in its tendency and consequences, we are as earnestly and as strenuously to oppose. Error as well as sin is of the devil. It is a chief work of the devil, a chief work of his kingdom. It is one of the works which Christ came to destroy, and which we, therefore, as his followers, are to seek to destroy also. And how are we to do so 1 Not by carnal weapons, not by railing accusations, but by the sword of the Spirit, the weapon of truth. This ^ is the only weapon of attack with which the Christian soldier is to gird himself, in fighting the battles of his faith. He has nothing to do with any other. He need not regret that circumstance, how- ever ; for this is the most powerful he can use. He may say of it, as David did of the sword of Goliath, " There is none like it." Let error be but met by an ex- hibition of the truth, and it cannot main- tain its ground. For a time, indeed, it may rear its Gorgon head, but the truth must at length prevail. It is the nature of light to dissipate darkness; it is the nature of light to make itself, and every thing else, manifest: and so it is of truth. Let truth be cl arly exhibited in opposi- tion to error, and error must fall before it — like Dagon before the ark of the Lord. It can be maintained, by those only who do not come to the light, or who voluntarily shut their eyes. In seeking the conversion of sinners, as in contending against error, this same weapon of truth is to be employed. The conversion of sinners is a principal mean of Satan's defeat, a principal mean of pro- moting the ends of that warfare, in which, if we are Christ's soldiers, we have en- gaged— of promoting the glory of God, the destruction of sin, and the advancement of holiness and happiness. Of course every true soldier of Christ .Tesus seeks these ends. lie is anxious for the glory 488 THE BRITISH PULPIT. of his Lord, for the prosperity of his king- dom, and fur additional trophies to the power and riches of his grace. He is anxious for the destruction of the reign of sin. He is anxious for the triumphs of holiness. He is anxious to see his fel- low-creatures, who are deluded by Satan, and carried captive by him at his will, rescued from his thraldom, and numbered among the followers of the Lamb. Now this sword of the Spirit, as we have already observed, is the instrument by which these glorious ends are effected. Shall we not seek then to make use of it in this view, as we have opportunity 1 Shall we not arm ourselves i^ such aeon- test, and for so glorious an end 1 And shall we not pray and endeavour, that others may be incited and fitted to go forth thus armed also against the common enemy. If we wish to make any triumphs in this warfare, or rather if we desire to be instruments in any way, however fee- ble and despised, of adding to the tri- umphs of our Redeemer, let us seek to be instruments in bringing this sword — the sword which he who is most mighty girds upon his thigh — into contact with our fellow-sinners around us ; and let us feel honoured in any, even the slightest instrumentality, that may be granted us in producing that end. For these important purposes then, — even for repelling Satan's temptations, and for destroying his works in ourselves and others — are we to take this weapon, and all the other weapons of the Chris- tian warfare ; and so to fight the good fight of faith, and to lay hold of eternal life. My friends, there are but two par- ties in this warfare, and to one or other . of these we all belong. Oh ! which side "f- have we espoused. Believe it, there is no neutrality. If we are not for Christ, we are against him. If we are not fight- ing under his standard, if we have not ac- tively and warmly espoused his cause, we are his enemies, we are fighting against him, we are opposing the inte- rests of his kingdom ; and in that light, even as his enemies, he regards uS. " Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof, for they came not up to the help of the Lord — to the help of the Lord, against the mighty." But have we espoused Christ's cause, or are we desirous of espousing it — of fighting under his standard, and following whithersoever he leadeth us, let us take the following directions and encourage- ments in doing so; and, in giving these, we conclude. Let us know our own weakness. Let us not expect to vanquish our enemy, let us not presume to go and meet him, in our own strength. Let us watch the motions of our enemy. Let us beware of indulging security, for he is active and subtle and powerful. Let us watch especially the movements of the party he has still within ourselves. Let us keep our hearts with all diligence. Let us keep our eye fixed on our glori- ous leader. Let this be our motto, " Looking unto Jesus," looking unto him as our guide, our strength, our de- liverer. Let us keep in view the glorious prize set before us, the conqueror's crown. " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." For encouraging us in this warfare, let us reflect that, if we have really taken part in it, our enemies are God's enemies. Therefore we may trust, that he will be with us ; therefore we may trust that they shall be destroyed. Let us reflect, that we have to do with an enemy who has been already conquer- ed— whose head has been bruised, whose power has been broken, whose strong- holds have been stormed. Let us reflect, too, that tliis conquest has been achieved by our Kinsman-Re- deemer, and for our benefit. And lastly, that he has promised us pro- tection and support — promised to deliver us from every evil work, and to preserve us unto his heavenly kingdom. Amen, SERMON LV. THE INCONCEIVABLE GREATNESS AND UNSEARCHABLE GOODNESS OF GOD BY THE REV. GEORGE CLAYTON. " Who tx like unto the Lord our God, who dwelleth on high, who humbleth himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth ? He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill ; that he may set him with princes, even with the princes of hi* people." — Psalm cxiii. 5 — 8. This psalm contains an animating ex- hortation to praise God and give iiim the glory due to his name. This is a ser- vice, my brethren, at once reasonable and delightful; and it is, indeed, of universal obligation ; not only incumbent on those who are visibly employed in the imme- diate service of God, but incumbent on all, at all times, in all places, and in all periods of the world's existence. There- fore, says the psalmist, " Praise ye the Lord, 0, ye servants of the Lord, praise ye the Lord, from this time forth and evermore. From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, the Lord's name is to be praised." It cer- tainly may be considered as one of the deepest and darkest features of our fallen nature, and an humbling evidence of the corruption which is to be found even in the best of men, that we should be gene- rally so reluctant to engage in a work, pleasurable and profitable, honourable to God and edifying to others. Although we are reluctant in our praises, we are eloquent in our complaints. When we detail our miseries, how fluent, how vo luble, how little at a loss to detail the aggravation of our sorrows ; but when we come to think of our miseries, how much of hard work have we to warm our cold hearts, to set them in tune for the praise of God — how much of excitement do we need to its enjoyment — how absolutely requisite is it that we should adopt the Vol. I 62 language of the psalmist : " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name ; bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his bene- fits." Is it not, my brethren, refreshing to look forward to the time when, by the copious effusion of the Holy Spirit in all among whom the name of God is men- tioned, and by whom his benefits are par- ticipated, his praise shall be sung even from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same 1 In order to incite to this needful and pleasurable occupation, the psalmist ad- duces two great motives, both of them derived from the attributes of the Divine Nature. The one, the greatness and ma jesty of God ; the other, the goodness and mercy of God; and these are set forth before you in my text in admirable combination. We shall, however, con- sider them distinctively, that is, sepa- rately from each other; for there is that in the greatness of God which might overwhelm us with fear and trembling, and fill us with dismay and dread, if we were not to associate at the same time in our contemplations that view which he has given of his goodness and mercy in Christ Jesus our Lord. " Who is like unto the Lord our God, who dwelleth on high — who humbleth himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth. He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the 489 490 THE BRITISH PULPIT. dunghill, that he may set him with princes, even with the princes of his peo- ple." First — I INVITE vou to meditate brief- ly ON THE INCONCEIVABLE GREATNESS OF THAT God with whom you have to DO. Secondly — To consider his matchless AND INCOMPREHENSIBLE GOODNESS. Thirdly — To inquire what are the PRACTICAL LESSONS WE MAY LEARN FROM THE UNITED DISPLAY OF BOTH. May God seal instruction on every heart, and make us to become acquainted with the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he has sent. First 1 INVITE YOU TO THE CONTEM- PLATION OF HIS GREATNESS. We should look unto " the Lord our God who dwelleth on high, and wlio must humble himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth." Con- sider, first, the place of his habitation — " He dwelleth on high." Secondly, his superiority to all the greatest of creatures and of things ; " for he humbleth himself to behold the things that are done in hea- ven and on earth." First — Of his habitation. We must be careful not to assisrn to the Deity any speciKc local limits; for God is a spirit, and his essence every where diffused. If we ascend up into heaven, he is there ; if we make our abode in the abyss, he is there ; if we should take the wings of the morning and fly to the uttermost parts of the earth, even there his hand would up- hold us, and his right hand would sustain us. But, with great propriety, heaven, and the heaven of heavens, though they cannot contain God's essence, are repre- sented to us as the place of his imme- diate abode; there his glory dwells, and upon the inhabitants of that world, the angels of light and the spirits of the just made perfect, the emanations of his inex- pressible majesty are continually poured forth : therefore they are said always to behold the face of their Father. This heaven is called the high and the holy place. I cannot tell you where it is ; but I can tell you wherever God's presence is, especially in the immediate manifesta- tion of it, there is heaven ; for heaven is God, and God is heaven. It is always represfnted to us as a place of superla- tive elevation, rising far above onr utmost thought and the largest stretch of our imagination. " He dwelleth on high," far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named. In the next place consider his infinite superiority to the greatest of beings and the greatest of things. "The Lord is hio-h above all nations, and his glory above the heavens, and he must humble him- self to behold the things that are in hea- ven and on earth. " This is ascribing un- utterable superiority to God over the greatest of beings and the greatest of things. There is something in national greatness made up of numbers, rank, in- telligence, the order and arrangement of civil economy defended by mijihty fleets and splendid armies, the councils of the kingdom guided by the wisdom and by the might of those who occupy seats of power and of authority. " God is above all nations, all nations in his sight are but as the drop of the bucket, and the small dust of the balance, and he taketh up the isles as a very little thing, and Lebanon is not sufficient to burn for him, and all nations are before him less than nothing, and vanity." Then consider the heavenly bodies which roll over us in splendour and in brightness. Look at the sun, whose golden beams you now participate and enjoy ; think of the moon, walking in her brightness; mark the planetary system; see the innumerable hosts which spangle the firmament of the clouds, and consider all these suns as systems — and that all these stars are only so many worlds; and Ihen carry your thoughts higher still, and remember that God has set his glory above the heavens, the clouds are the dust of his chariot, and the stars and suns are the pavement of his feet — then you will sea he is under the necessity of stooping even to observe the things that are done in heaven, as you have expressed it in the hymn which introduced the discourse: " Still might he fill his starry throne, And please his ears with Gabriel's song.'' But oh ! he must stoop to listen to those THE GREATNESS AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 491 songs, and the purest and loftiest angel that stands in the presence of God is so far removed beneath him, that he must bend his throne to see and hear the wor- ship of the cherubim and seraphim. How much more must he stoop, then, to be- hold the things that are done on the earth, things of the greatest interest — things thai in our view swell into the mightiest importance ; all these he cannot notice without an amazing step of condescen- sion, so high is his elevation, and so un- utterable is his grandeur. This is a wide theme, but a theme at which we might labour from the commencement of our lives to the close, without exhausting the subject, and without having gained even a thousandth part of that knowledge of God which stands connected with his immeasurable greatness : " Who can by searching find out God 1 Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection ?" Therefore I pass on, Secondly — To notice his matchless GOODNESS. This will appear in the description of my text: that " He humbleth himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth. He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill, that he may set him with princes, even with the princes of his people." But I shall apply these repre- sentations to three distinct provinces of the Divine agency. The first is, to the ministrations of his kind providence es- pecially in favour of the poor and op- pressed. Secondly, the manifestations of his grace to our fallen and ruined nature. Thirdly, in the revelations of his kingdom when time shall be no more. First — we apply this representation to the ministrations of his providence. There is, be assured, a particular providence which notices all individuals, and which regulates and superintends their concerns. The greatest is not above the notice of God's eye, nor the meanest beneath it ! " For are not the hairs of your head all numbered ? Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing, and not one of them is for- gotten before God." "He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill, that he may set him with princes, even with tlie princes of his people." Was not this exemplified in the case of Joseph, who was sold for a slave into the land of Egypt, condemned under a false accusa- tion to an ignominious prison, where his feet were hurt with fetters, and the iron entered into his soul ; and yet God re- membered him, raised him from the dust, took him from the dungeon, gave him the second chariot in the land of Egypt; and they cried, " bow the knee, bow the knee!" before him; and only in the throne was his great master greater than he. Was not this singularly exemplified in the case of Hannah, who was a wo- man of a sorrowful spirit, who bent her knee in all the urgency of importunate prayer, lying in the dust at the footstool of divine majesty; and, ere long, her sorrows were chased away, the dark clouds which enveloped her broke asun- der and departed, and gave way to the bright shining of a clear and cheerful day, so that she herself adopted this very song of praise which is recorded in the lan- guage of the text? I might refer to Ruth the Moabitess, whose history is but an illustration of the doctrine of my text. I might refer to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, in the province of Babylon. I might refer to Daniel and his remarka- ble history, and to the Virgin mother herself, who, though of royal descent, was found in a condition of extreme po- verty ; but she was raised out of the dust, and lifted from the dunghill, and had the distinguished honour of giving birth to the Messiah, so that she said, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spi- rit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour; for he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden ; for, behold, from hence- forth all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name." Time would fail me to tell of the particu- lar instances in which the language of my text has been practically fulfilled, in which God has taken the poor from the dust, from cottages of obscurity, from thatched roofs, and from places of ex- treme depression and gloom, and " placed 492 THE BRITISH PULPIT. them with princes, even the princes of his people." So that, as a doctrine of providence, and as an illustration of God's hand in ordering the affairs of his provi- dential kingdom, we may consider that the language of the text is most apt and just. Secondly, let us apply this to the mani- festations of his grace: " He hath remem- bered his nation's low estate, for his mer- cy endureth for ever." "What was the condition of man as a sinner when the eye of God contemplated his recovery, and the bowels of his compassion melted over his misery 1 It was a state of the greatest possible degradation, the lowest dust was his abode : no dunghill can adequately represent the deep depression and utter ruin in which, by reason of sin, we are all found. And how, I ask, was our elevation from this state of degrada- tion and ruin effected 1 Why the eternal Son of God took upon him our nature in the lowest circumstances of its degrada- tion ; he became a poor man, was born in a stable, laid in a manger at Bethlehem, worked at a menial occupation, lived a life of dependence, and was at last indebt- ed to charity for his grave. It was by this stupendous act of condescension that our Lord redeemed us from the curse of God, saved us from our bitter wo, and raised us to sit together with him in hea- venly places. Oh, how astonishing the humiliation of the eternal Son of the Most High ! Well may it be said by the apos- tle, " He made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men ; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." See the Lord of life and glory bowing his head upon the accursed tree, while he exclaimed, " It is finished !" See him laid even in the dust of death, and re- maining under the power of the grave, for a time darkness his curtain, and his bed the earth ! Wondrous dispensation of mercy — " That thy eternal Son should bear To take a mortal form ; Made lower than the angels are, To save a dying worm !" Then consider, I pray you, not only the general scheme of our recovery by grace divine, through the humiliation, and suffering, and death, and burial of the Divine Redeemer, but consider the manner in which this salvation is applied by the sovereign and gracious operations of the Holy Spirit. Now you will per- ceive that, generally, the poor are evan- gelized : " Hath not God chosen the poor of this world, rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom 1" The objects of his spe- cial favour are generally found among those who, of all others, seem least like- ly or fitted for the distinction which he is pleased to put upon them. Look at Mary Magdalen ; see her brought to the feet of Jesus, bathing those feet with her tears, wiping them with the hair of her head, and then following Jesus into the wilderness. Oh, how truly is it written : " He humbleth himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in earth — he raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill, that he may set him with princes, even with the princes of his people !" Look at Saul of Tarsus breathing out threatenings of slaughter. Oh, what a state of wretched depravity was his heart found in when the message of Jesus ar- rested him in his course! he heard a voice, he saw a light, and he fell, trem- bling, to the earth, exclaiming, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do]" The degraded persecutor (for man never ap- pears in a more degraded form than when he persecutes the church of Christ) be- came an ardent believer of the faith which he once laboured to destroy ; and he says, " Howbeit, for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show forth all long-suffering, for a pat- tern to them who should hereafter be- lieve on him to life everlasting," There- fore he could say: "It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners ; of whom I am the chief." "Though ye have been among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold." The depth of human de- pression, in a m jral and a spiritual sense. THE GREATNESS AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 493 exemplifies the wonderful depth of the Divine humiliation and the Divine good- ness. Thirdly, we apply this to the revela- tions of eternity. God has done much for his people in the application of the great blessings of salvation to them here; but " eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, what he hath prepared for them that love him" in the world to come. My bre- thren, assist me by your meditations to draw aside the curtain which hides eter- nal things from our view. Think of the fulfilment of this representation in the morning of the resurrection, when from abodes of dust, and from houses of clay, God shall call the slumbering remains of his people into life, and warm them into activity, and clothe them with beauty, according to the mighty power whereby he is able to subdue even all things unto himself. " Thy dead men shall live to- gether, with my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust, for thy dew is as the dew of herbs ; and the earth shall cast out the dead :" " For the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorrupti- ble, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is writ- ten. Death is swallowed up in victory." Then will he " raise up the poor out of the dust, and lift the needy out of the dunghill," that he may set him on the throne of the Lamb, and encircle him with a diadem of glory. Consider the associations of that great day, when all the redeemed of the Lord shall meet from the east, from the west, from the north, and from the south — shall be gathered together in one holy, happy, harmonious throng, all crowned, all en- throned, all adorned with bright garments of shining lustre and spotless purity, and shall wave palms of triumph, and join in the everlasting song of " salvation unto the Lamb." There the humblest and meanest believer shall find himself on an equal footing, in point of locality, and in point of enjoyment, with the venerable patriarchs, with the inspired propiiets, with the noble army of martyrs, with the confessors, and with those who in every age have been distinguished for their life, their love, their holiness, and their zeal. We are ready to say. The meanest place at thy right hand is infinitely too high. But there is no mean place there; all will be princes, all will be sitting at one common table, and all will be the sub- jects of one inconceivable and incompa- rable satisfaction. I do not deny that there may be degrees of glory arising out of the physical and moral capacities of our nature. I can hardly conceive that an infant dying in its infancy shall be found in the same scale of precise enjoy- ment with St. Paul or St. John, with a Watts, a Doddridge, a Hall, a Porteus ; but though, in the very nature of things, there may be gradations as to the pecu- liar measure of enjoyment, every mind will be full of purity, full of bliss, and full of glory — as full as it can hold — while it will be stretching forth, by the enlargement of its powers, to the still larger enjoyment of an object whose ex- cellencies can never be exhausted, and whose boundless extent will admit of a constant and eternal progression, both in knowledge, resemblance, and enjoyment. Now what an amazing discovery will this be, when we shall see heaven open- ed, and when we shall see poor, degraded, ruined man "taken from his dust, and raised from his dunghill, and made to sit with princes, even the princes of immor- tality." In conclusion, what practical les- sons MAY WE LEARN FROM THE COMBINED OR ASSOCIATED DISPLAY OF THE GREAT- NESS AND GOODNESS OF GoD. In the first place, my brethren, let it fix on our minds a deep sense of our own in- significance, meanness, and vilentss. You will go away from the contemplation of this subject little benefited, unless you find that it is fitted to cast down every high thought, and every proud imagina- tion, unless it levels your own pretensions with the dust, and unless you are led from the contemplation of God's great- ness to learn the lesson of your own lit- 2T «94 THE BRITISH PULPIT. lleness, did I say, your own nothingness. Contrast yourself for a moment with the great Object you have been contemplat- ing; think of the majesty and glory, the elevation and excellence of the blessed God ; you then sink down in the dust of self-abasement, and say, as Job said, " 1 have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eyes seeth thee ; wherefore I. abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." " Wo is me ! for I am undone, for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts." Oh, what a self-annihilating subject is this ! what a blow to all those self-preferring, self- exalting, self-endearing thoughts which are prone to take possession of the plat- form of the human heart ! I am sure, if you rightly understand the subject of this afternoon, there will be little room left for self in your meditations and prayers. We should go from this subject smiting our heart, and acknowledging fhat we are less than nothing, and vanity ; saying in the language of our old poet, " The more thy glories strike my eye, The humbler servant I shall die." 0 man, O woman, learn thy place from this subject! Remember that thou art only like an indivisible fraction of this great world which we inhabit, and that when compared with God you are lost. Where are you 1 The atom which now floats in the sunbeam is less considera- ble, compared with the mass of this solid globe, than you compared with your rela- tion to the great and glorious God. Secondly, the contemplation of this combined display of God's greatness and goodness should promote reverence in wor- ship. Brethren, if God must humble himself to behold the things that are done in heaven and earth — if he is thus exalt- ed above all beings, and above all things, however great — then surely we ought to worship him with reverence and with godly sincerity. " Great is the Lord and greatly to be feared, and to be had in re- verence by all those who are round about him." Men cannot think aright of the greatness and grandeur of God who enter into the sanctuary with trifling and levi- ty, who conduct themselves there in an undevout manner, and who retire from the house of God to forget where they have been and what they have been doinge " Keep thy foot when thou coniest to the house of God, and be more ready to hear than to offer the sacrifice of fools." How would you conduct yourself in the presence of an earthly superior? W'hat measure of awe would you feel, were you to be introduced to the sovereign of these realms, or to find yourself associated with the concentrated splendour of all the princes, powers, and potentates of earth? And yet who are all the powers, princes, and potentates on earth, compared with that great and glorious God into whose presence you enter in every prayer you offer, during every sermon you hear, and every religious exercise in which you join] My dear young friends, there is always great danger lest the youthful heart should not be impressed with a sense of the majesty of God in the solemn exer- cises of his work; I therefore entreat you dear children who hear me — children of our weekly schools, and children of our Sabbath schools- — always to consider the greatness of God whenever you come into his presence, and whenever you take his name on your lips, and remember to make a distinction between the house of God and all other houses— the day of God and all other days — the worship of God and all other employments; fov he is not to be mocked, and if he sees a light and trifling countenance, and if he observes a light and trifling mind in his presence, he regards it with displeasure and abhor- rence. Let us, then, in all acts of wor- ship set the Lord before us in all his superlative elevation, majesty, and gran- deur, that we may worship him reverent- ly ; " For to that man will I look, and with him will I dwell, who is of an hum- ble and contrite heart, and who trembleth at my word." Thirdly, let this subject nourish in our bosoms confidence towards God, as well as holy reverence in our dealings towards him. His goodness is equal to his great- ness, and he has provided means whereby that goodness shall flow down to guilty THE GREATNESS AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 493 man, with infinite honour to his charac- ter and his perfections. Therefore let me say to you, have faith in God ; con- sider his condescension ; let it encourage your approaches, consider the ministra- tions of his providence — consider the manifestations of his grace — consider the future revelations of his glory. Then, my brethren, repose your spirits as in the bosom of God ; for " he taketh the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill." Go to him with all your indigence and destitution, with all your moral degradation and pollution, with all your hopes and all your fears, and cast your every care and burden upon him who careth for you. There is no case in which you are warranted to de- spair of God's gracious succour and sea- sonable help ; there are no measures of depression to which the arm of his mercy will not reach ; and there are no measures of public exaltation to which that arm may not conduct you. Believe, there- fore, in God with all your heart; trust him with all your concerns. Remember that you cannot expect too much from him who is so great ; neither can you hope for too much from him who is so good. " Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me ■? Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him who is the health of my coun- tenance and my God." Fourthly, let this subject scatter those doubts of scepticism, and those hesitations of. infidelity, ivhich are too industriously spread amongst us at the present day. I would mention two points in connexion with this — the minute observation which God's providence takes of the affairs of men, and the efficacy of believing prayer. "Oh," says the sceptic, "do you think you are of sufficient importance in the vast chain of cause and effect for Deity to be- stow a thought or care upon you ? God is so great a being that he cannot find room in the vastness of his heart for your inte- rests, for your concerns, for your sorrows, for your welfare." This has been a fa- vourite topic with infidelity in every pe- riod of time. The men of this school have attempted to destroy our faith in the doctrine of a particular providence ; con- tending that one event happeneth alike to all, and that every thing must be resolved to certain chances and accidents ; and thus they endeavour to deprive us of a truth which is most full of consolation and godly relief, under all the trials, dif- ficulties, and conflicts of this lower world. My brethren, God is indeed so great " that he humbleth himself to behold the things that are done in heaven and in earth." He bestows his thoughts upon the poorest of his intelligent creatures ; yea, the meanest, the irrational ones, and every insect that wings its way through the air, and every flower that is clothed with beauty and brightness, owes its ex- istence and support to the immediate agency of the perfect will of Providence. Let my text establish your minds in the conviction of this truth. So with regard to the efficacy of prayer, which arises out of this great principle. Can I believe that God hears my prayer t I am an atom of dust so inconceivably minute, in comparison with the great in terests of his kingdom and government- will he listen to my voice ? Will hj attend to the breathing of my prayers ' Will my solitary notes attract his ear o) move his heart ? Yes, when you aie most alone, most despised, most in tne dust, yea, when you feel yourself as upon the very dunghill, you may say, " pooi though I am, despised and forgotten, ye\ God, my God, forgets me not." " He is safe, and must succeed, For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead. Then put your cause into the hands of the great Intercessor — employ him — offer your praise to the Divine Majesty, and you have the pledge of God's greatness, and the pledge of Go'ds goodness, that you shall in no wise be forgot. There- fore I say, away with the doubts of scep- ticism, and away with all insinuation of unbelief. " Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief." Fifthly, let the contemplation of this subject kindle in our breast a high and no- ble ambition; — not that sort of ambition which inflames the desires of worldly men who are in the pursuit of worldl)"- 496 THE BRITISH PULPIT. good, who are seeking to climb the steep acclivity which is to introduce them to sublunary honour and distinction ; but seek that honour which cometh from God alone. Oh, pray that he may set you among princes, even the princes of his kingdom ! Seek the honour of a church relationship here with the friends and followers of the Redeemer, and then you will be associated with them in the splen- dours of the future resurrection, and in the glories of the coming immortality ! Oh that we may aspire to these noblest of all distinctions — honours that fade not, preferments that shall never, never perish, and an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away ! " This is my glory, Lord, to be Guided by saints, and near to thee." " For they shall come from the east and the west, and the north and the south, and shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of God." Finally, let this subject awaken both our gratitude, and our anticipations of the future. Gratitude for the revelation God has given of himself, of his purposes, and of his grace — gratitude, if we our- selves have any thing answerable in our experience to that which we have been hearing this day — gratitude that we ob- serve in the transactions of God's provi- dence, and the economy of his grace, a minute fulfilment of all this in the cases of others. For charity envieth not; and he who is the subject of heaven-descended charity will be doubly blessed, because he will not only be happy in those gifts and distinctions which God has imparted to him, but he will be made happy by the gifts and distinctions which he sees imparted to others. Envy is the child of hell ; and whenever it takes possession of the human bosom, it makes that bosom a hell: Christianity goes to extinguish its fire, and it teaches every Christian to make every Christian's happiness his own. Therefore we shall, I am sure, be infinitely happier than we are, if we could act up to this great principle ; if we could rejoice with them that rejoice, and weep with them that weep ; and when we see the poor raised out of the dust, and the needy taken from the dunghill, and set with princes, even the princes of God's people, we should rejoice and be exceed- ing glad. When the poor prodigal comes home, after he has wasted his substance, dishonoured his character, and nearly ruined his soul for ever, instead of grudg- ing his reception and envying his enter- tainment, let us rather break forth into songs of joy and gladness, saying, "This my son was dead, and is alive again ; was lost, and is found." This is the be- nevolence of the spirits in heaven ; for they tune their harps afresh when a sin- ner is converted, and when a soul is raised from the dust, from the natural apostasy of man, and made to sit with the princes of his people in the present joys of communion with the church on earth, and anticipating the future joys of the church triumphant in heaven. Let us warm our bosom's gratitude at the con- templation of this great subject, and anti- cipate the period when we shall be in- troduced to the city and fellowship of heaven, and shall see those kings, and prophets, and righteous men who have gone before us in the path of glory, and are now enjoying the rest that remains to the people of God. " In such society as this My weary soul would rest ; The man who dwells where Jesus is Must be for ever blest." God grant us all such a dwelling place, through the countless ages of eternity, for Christ's sake. Amen. SERMON LVI. THE WITHERED LEAF. BY THE REV. JOHN ANDERSON, HELENSBURGH. " We all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities like the wind, have taken us away." — Isa. Ixiv. 6. Spiritual instructions are frequently conveyed to us in the Scriptures by images drawn from natural objects. In no book are the objects of nature more frequently introduced, for the explanation, the en- forcement, and the illustration of truth, than in the book of God. To the eye of the inspired writers nature seems to have unfolded itself as one vast book of sym- bols, from which they read lessons to man adapted to the various junctures of life. This book of symbols may be said to have four chapters or leaves — the spring and the summer, autumn and win- ter. So far as the present year is con- cerned, the lessons of the spring, and the summer, and the autumn, are ended ; its solemn lesson the winter is now reading. The fields that a short while ago were waving with their golden produce, are now barren and bare ; the skies that were sunny and warm, are now cloudy and cold ; the flowers that, wet with dew, opened their leaves to the sun, or shed their spicy fragrance on the winds, broken in their stem, and bruised in their leaves, are now fast turning into dust and disho- nourable ashes ; the trees of the wood and the field are now stripped of their foliage — their leaves that were lately fresh and green, now withered and brown, are falling to the ground, while the few that remain upon the branches seem but to wait for a ruder blast when they also shall be carried away. Such is the con- dition of the natural world : between this Vot. I.— 63 condition and our own is there any analo- gy ? Is the condition of nature in any respect symbolic of our own ] It is. The prophet in our text takes up a withered leaf, and, entering with it as it were into an audience of his countrymen, addresses them in these words — " We all do fade as a leaf." A withered leaf, then, is this day to be our preacher. What are som& of the truths it proclaims, and in which it is wisely adapted and mercifully in- tended to instruct us ? It instructs us in the following : — 1st, The frailty and shortness of life. What object in nature is frailer than a withered leaf adhering to the bough by a single thread, and ready to be carried away by the first and feeblest breath of wind. Not more frail, however, is the withered leaf even, than is man that is born of a woman. Consider him in in- fancy : what object more frail than a hu- man weakling — the infant in the cradle — the babe at the breast ! Is it not the very type of all weakness and all frailty — full of wants, yet without the smallest power to supply them or to make them known ; exposed to dangers which he does not foresee, and which, if he did, he could not control ] If others do not feed him, he must perish of hunger ; if others do not give him drink, he must perish of thirst ; if others do not clothe him, he must perish of cold. Surely on the whole earth there is not a creature more frail and more helpless ! Consider him in the pride and t2 497 4GS THE BRITISH PULPIT vigour of manhood : even in this period of life, how like a leaf wasted and driven by the wind ! When he imagines his mountain stands strong, and that nothing can move him — when he exalts himself as a god, how weak, indigent, and insuf- ficient— subject to every breath and to every blast ! Is he on the sea 1 — see how its waves whirl him where they will ! Is he on the land 1 — see how the winds scorn his bidding, the storm how it mocks ^is prospects, the hurricane how it lays nis dvveljing in ruins! thus, even when standing, is he not liable to fall — when rich to become poor — when strong to be- come weak ■? In life is he not every mo- ment liable and ready to die ] Thus poor is man in his best estate ; thus sure is it that " each man is vanity." Consider him in old age : is the withered and wast- ed leaf of winter more withered or more wasted 1 His eyes how dim, his ear How dull, his limbs how shrunken, his breath- ing how short and how difficult; how like a walking shadow, a living death ; the evil days have come upon him, he is fallen into the "sere and yellow leaf!" Such is man, in infancy, manhood, and old age ; nor is he thus frail, but how ehortlived as well as frail ! To denote the shortness of man's existence, it is Je- remy Taylor, we think, who remarks that the wise men of the world have contended, as it were, who should denote its short- ness by the fittest figures. By one it is likened to a shadow; by another to the shadow of a shade ; by another to a va- pour ; by another to the swift ships ; by another to tlie eagle that hasteth to its prey ; by another to the weaver's shut- tle : the day casts it to the night, and the night to the day, till the web of life is spun, and cut from the beam of time. By the prophet it is compared to a leaf. Short is the duration of a leaf: such, how- ever, is the life of man — as short in its duration as it is frail in its texture and fading in its kind. In the withered leaves, then, that at this season of the year are strewing your path, see, my brethren, the emblem of your condition. Think not more highly of yourselves than you ought to do : look to that withered leaf; like it you are frail, and like it you are fading, and like it you will soon be carried nway for ever. If you shall be more deeply impressed with these truths this day than you have hitherto been ; if you shall form a truer estimate of your condition than you may have hitherto done ; if you shall be instructed more fully in, or be impress- ed more deeply with, the frailty and shortness of life, this leaf will not have faded and fallen, nor shall we have dis- coursed from it to you this day, in vain. But not only does the withered leaf in- struct us in the conditions of life, it in- structs us also in the conditions of death ; and this it does. First. In the naltire of death. A leaf that, having witliered on the tree, has fallen to the ground, is a separated, a disunited thing. It is disunited from its parent tree, it is separated from its sister leaves. Such is death. It is a separa- tion, a disuniting ; it is the separation, first of all, of the soul and body. As the union of soul and body constitutes natural life, the separation of soul and body con- stitutes natural death. This separation every man living must undergo : fatal to man is the neglect of this great truth. Neglect it not, my brethren : when you see a leaf separated from its parent tree, let it remind you of the separation that must one day take place between the body and the soul ; let it remind you that you shall not always, as you now do. see through the medium of the eye, and hear through the medium of the ear, and think through the medium of the brain. There is a spiritual world : to that world you belong; in that world as pure spirits you shall exist; on the verge of that spiritual world you are at this moment standing; upon it you are soon to enter; in that world you shall continue to see, but not through the medium of the eye ; yon shall continue to hear, but not through the me- dium of the ear; you shall continue to think, but not through the medium of the brain ; then all that is in this world as to you — the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, shall come to an end. Now, if it should be the case that your happiness is now consisting in the seeing of the eye, or the hearing of the ear, or the gratification of the senses — THE WITHERED LEAF. 499 n the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eye, and in the pride of life ; if your hap- piness consists in, and is dependent on what is material, what is to become of you in that world that is spiritual 1 If your supreme happiness consist in aught that is earthly, in what shall it consist, when the world in which you are to dwell, and you yourselves shall no longer be of the " earth earthy," and when from all that is earthly, its possessions and its enjoyments, you shall be torn away for ever ] If your happiness is connected with time, and the things of time, in what will you find happiness when time and the tilings of time shall be no more? Think of this, ye who are lovers of plea- sure more than lovers of God ; think of this, ye who are seeking and finding your chief enjoyment in the pursuits and the pleasures of this passing and this perish- ing world. Hear it, men and brethren ! take it from my lips as the word of God, that a happiness springing from, and end- ing with time, is no happiness — it has the show, but not the substance ; it is a happiness that might content us if we were mortal only, but is no portion for an immortal soul. True happiness is an abiding happiness; the true happiness of an everlasting being is a happiness that, like himself, is everlasting. But what is this true and everlasting happiness 1 in what does it consist? In "doing the will of God." A life spent in doing the will of God, is a life of happiness ; a life spent in contravening the will of God, is and must be a life of essen- tial misery. Into such a life, a life of simply doing the will of God, now, my brethren, now that you are, and while you are in the body, enter; for into this life there is no entrance in the world to come. Of good or evil in the world to come there is no first choice; such a choice must be made here ; and the choice that is made here, is the choice that is ratified here- after. You are now either doing the will of God, or you are doing your own ; if you are doing your own, you are sowing to the flesh, and shall of the flesh reap a harvest of corruption ; if you are doing the will of God, you are sowing to the Spirit, and of the Spirit and in the Spirit you shall reap a harvest of life eternal. But not only does death separate tlic soul and the body, it separates and disunites us from our re- lations and our friends. Very mysterious and deep, as you know well, is the afTcc- tion we cherish for our relations and kins- men according to the flesh. Do we hear, for example, of the sickness of a parent or a child, of a sister or a brother — with what eagerness and trepidation do we hasten to their bedside ; with what inter- est do we gaze on their wan and wasted countenances; how anxiously do we watch the progress of the disease ; with what pure delight do we witness the first dawning of recovery I On the other hand, when we often look but look in vain, when it is but too plain that they are dying, how does our heart sicken and die! And when at length death has completed his prey ; when the eye is broken from whose look of love our heart drew its sweetest solace ; when the spirit of the beloved object has fled, and all that remains to us is the cold, silent, and inanimate clay, how dreadful is the blow ! We are over- whelmed with a sorrow we can scarcely bear, and the bitterness of which vvords are wanting to express. In our journry through life, many are the clouds which darken our path, and many are the events, the tendency of which is to bruise our spirit and to break our heart; but there is no event so solemn and so sad as that which converts our homes into a house of mourning, and stretches one of our nearest and dearest relations on the bed of death. Yet, all painful as this event is, it is one which we may expect to meet, and to meet which we should at all times be prepared. Among the mourners, of whom the earth is full, how many are at this moment utter- ing the language of the orphan children of Jerusalem — language " every letter of which seems written with a tear, and every word of which seems the sound of a bro- ken heart :" — " We are orphans and fa- therless, and our mothers are as widows." How many fond parents, during the past year, have seen their bright and beautiful laid in the dust, and are now left to weep over not only the flower of their flock, but the last of their race ! How many husbands have stood by the bed on which 500 THE BRITISH PULPIT. the mother of their children lay dying ! How many wives lately blessed with the husbands of their hearts, are now lonely and sorrowful widows I See that band of mourners ; how powerful is the claim they have on your sympathy and your tears ! yet, while you " weep with them that weep," weep not for them only, hut weep for yourselves. Sad, it is true, is their condition ; but in that condition see, my brethren, the emblems of your own. What they are now, that all of you will be at some time, and may be soon. Chil- dren, you may soon lose your parents ; fond parents, you may soon lose your children : your hearths now bright with the sunshine of their happy faces may soon be darkened ; your halls now vocal with their joyous voices may soon be silent. Husbands, you may soon lose " the delight of your eyes ;" and you hap- py wives, ye may be soon lonely widows. Such being the case, what influence ought the knowledge of this to have upon your conscience and your conduct? surely, if permitted to excercise its legitimate influ- ence, it will excite us to an immediate and faithful discharge of the duties we owe one to another, as parents or children, as husbands or wives. Whatever, then, in this matter, thy hand findeth to do, that do with all thy might and all thy dili- gence, for there is no knowledge, work, or device in the grave, whither thou art fast going. If, then, you who are children, shall be stirred up to honour, from this day henceforth, your parents more highly than ever you have yet done ; and if you who are parents shall be stirred up to per- form those sacred and solemn duties you owe to your children, more faithfully in all time coming, than at any time past ; if the husband will be stirred up to a more faithful discharge of the duties of a hus- band, and the wife to a more faithful dis- charge of the duties of a wife ; so that when the sad and solemn hour of separa- tion, which is surely coming to all, has come, amid its blackness and its bitter- ness, there shall be no root of regret and remorse in the remembrance of the past, and in reviewing the history of that rela- tionship which by the hand of death has now been severed for ever ; if, we say, you shall be stirred up to such a discharge of the duties you owe one to another, by means of the reflections to which this withered leaf may give rise, we shall have no cause of regret that we have directed your attention to this topic on this day. It is not enough, however, that we direct your attention to the death of others, let us direct it to your own. By this withered leaf, you are instructed not only in the nature, but in the certainty of death. Nothing is more certain than the fading of the leaf: equally certain is death. When we speak of the certainty of death, we speak, it is evident, not of its certainty as to time, or manner : than these nothing is more uncertain. The seasons have their time of coming and going, and we know when they will come and go ; the passage-birds have their appointed time, and we know when they will come and when they will depart ; the leaf has its time to flourish and its time to fade, and we know when it will flourish and when it will fade. It is otherwise with death : " Man knoweth not its time." I am old, said Jacob, yet I know not the day of my death : equally uncertain is death as to the manner of its coming. Amid all this uncertainty, however, one thing is cer- tain— death itself. What is our life, in- deed, but a constant dying — a death in life. The moment we begin to live, that moment we begin to die. I am dying while I now speak, and you are dying while you hear : every breath we take to lengthen life, shortens it; and the more we live, the less we have to live : thus do we fade as a leaf. These you may think are stale and common-place remarks. We confess they are: frequently liave they been made, and frequently have they been heard ; yet, frequently though such remarks respecting death and its certainty have been made, how few of you have even yet given it that consideration which its paramount importance demands I Though day unto day utters speech ; though night unto night teaches man knowledge; though in every new-made grave that meets our eye; though in every newspaper that we read ; though in every funeral procession we are sum- THE WITHERED LEAF. 501 moned to attend, or that we see dragging its slow and sable length along our streets ; though in every funeral bell that tolls the departure of another and another to the tomb ; though all nature enters, as it were for our sakes, once every year into a state of death ; though at this moment every sound that meets the ear, and every sight that meets the eye, is eloquent of death ; though in all these we have solemn utterance and stern assurances of our ap- proaching dissolution; yet how few of us realize this approach, so as to consider and to provide against its issues ! Every species of arithmetic we will learn, but that of counting our days ; every species of economy we will study, but that of setting our house in order, seeing we must die and not live. So certain is death, it might be thought that the first and great concern of all must be to provide against its approach and its issues ; yet there is nothing of which we are more forgetful ; yea, this very certainty of death, instead of fixing it in our thoughts, seems to make us but the more eager to escape from its consideration, as if our not think- ing of its approach would alter its nature, or delay its coming. My brethren, are we in our senses ? Will our blindness to danger diminish or prevent danger? Will we not die, because we never think of dying? Surely we cannot think this; you cannot but know that death is ad- vancing, and that every effort you make to exclude it from your thoughts, does in effect but bring it the nearer ! To know our danger, believe it, my brethren, is the first step of safety ; to prepare for its ap- proach, to provide for its issues, when in- evitable, is the highest act of wisdom. The prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself; it is the simple only that pass on, and are punished. Let the fore- warnings of nature, then, be your fore- armings; let not this season pass by un- improved ; listen to the voice of nature. The voice of nature is the voice of God ! God speaks to us from the dust as well as from the pulpit ; and if hitherto you have lived as men who were not to die, live henceforth as men who are — to die — in the full foreknowledge of the fact, live under its full influence : and that the know- ledge of death's certainty and death's solemnity may issue in life's sanctity, so may you seek and find, and so help you God. Again, while this "withered leaf" in- structs us in the certainty, it instructs us also in the universality of death. We must, said the woman of Tekoah, all die, and be as water spilt on the ground. That we must all die requires no reason- ing to prove ; sufficient is it for us to ap- peal to experience. Since the birth of time, how many human beings have been born into time 1 Time still continues, but where are those who, during its past ages, have, with their names and their actions, filled its records 1 The stream of time still continues to wind, but where are those who have dwelt upon its banks ? We have mighty forests, and crowded cities, but where are the hands that plant- ed the one, or that built the other] We have books written many centuries ago, but where are those by whom they wer6 written, and those whose actions or whose lives they record 1 Like an aged mother, the earth still remains, but where are her children] our fathers, where are they — and the prophets, do they live for ever? We have all occupied a portion of the past, but where are those who occupied it along with us ? Where are the busy hands, and where the burning hearts ; where are the gleaming eyes ; where are the melting voices ; where are the " old familiar faces ]" Ah ! the busy hands are motionless ; the burning hearts are cold ; the gleaming eyes are dim ; the melting voices are silent ; and the " old familiar faces are gone." Lover, acquaintance, and friend, have been removed into dark- ness. A thousand times has that dark and dream-like past been peopled with the living — living forms and living voices; and a thousand times has it been emptied again. A thousand times has the earth brought forth children, and a thousand times has she been bereaved ; the grave has received them, and the grave will re- ceive us — the grave that receives all — the grave that is never satisfied, and that never says. It is enough : thus, 502 THE BRITISH PULPIT. Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground. Another race the following age supplies ; They fall successive, and successive rise : So generations in their course decay ; So flourish these when those have passed away. In conclusion, as the text instructs us in the nature, cei-iainfy, and universality of death, it instructs us also in its cause. Were we to enter into a country almost deserted of its inhabitants ; were we to witness on every hand villages and towns laid in ruins — fields, that had been ripe even unto harvest, trampled down and soaked with blood — wells choked up, and rivers polluted with the bodies of the .«lain — the erections of human ingenuity dismantled and overthrown — we vi^ould naturally ask, How has all this come to pass ; how has this beautiful country be- come the scene of such terrible calamities'? When we witness the earth, in like man- ner, with its three kingdoms, the vegeta- ble, the animal, and the rational, full of corruption, decay, and death, and contrast it as originally full of health, and beauty, and life ; standing as we do in a world intended to be a region of life — amid the chambers of the dying, and the sepulchres of the dead ; it is natural to inquire. How has this come to pass; how has pain entered into the region of pleasure; sor- row into the region of joy; decay, corrup- tion, and death, into the regions of beauty and life 1 Why is it that we, who were created in the iitiage of our Maker, do all " fade as a leaf?" Why is it that we are born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward ] Why is our sure and sad inheritance suf- fering, and sorrow, and death 1 The an- swer to these questions, the solution of these difficulties, is contained in the text; "Our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away." These are the consequences of which sin is the cause ; these are the wrecks of a beautiful and blessed world, of which sin is the author. In what light, then, are we to regard sin? Has it corrupted all that was pure; has it defaced all that was beautiful in this lower world ; has it filled all things with the seeds of decay and death; has it brought us under the entire and everlasting forfeiture of God's favour; has it exposed us to his wrath and his curse, not only through all this life but through all the life that is to come ; has it dug a dishonoured grave for our bodies; has it kindled an intolerable and an everlasting fire for our souls; has it wrought us all this wreck ; has it proved to us the source of so many and so mighty woes ; and shall we love it ; shall we live in its love ; shall we live will- ingly under its power; shall we net rather hate it, weep over it, forsake it ? Has God provided a salvation for us ; has he proclaimed and proffered it to us — a salvation from its guilt, its pollution, its power, its curse, its very being 1 How should we regard the offer of this salva- tion ; an offer made to the most abandoned and the most depraved, the most worth- less and the most wicked of mankind — made to them irrespective of all merit, and all condition of any personal having, and of any personal doing — an offer of Christ's salvation for Christ's sake. How should we treat 1 Should we not, the moment it is offered, that moment accept it, and that with all the gratitude and the joy a boon of such a kind, provided for and proffered to persons of our character, and in our condition, is so well fitted to produce? Is it to be conceived that it should be treated otherwise 1 Is it to be conceived, not that it should be rejected, but that it should not be received, with this gratitude and this joy 1 See yon cri- minal on the scaffold ; the preparations of death proceed. A messenger, pro- claiming his errand lest he should come too late, forces a way through the crowd. A pardon ! a pardon ! resounds from evcr}"^ voice. When that sound reaches the ear of the criminal, how does it affect his heart 1 When a sealed pardon from roy- alty is unfolded, is put into his hands, how does he regard it, how does he trcEit. it — with apathy, with neglect 1 See how he clasps his hands; see the hues of life returning to his cheek ; see the wild but joyful light that sparkles in his eyes ; sec how his heart heaves ; see that look of wild and delighted wonderment, as if he feared that the sights meeting his eye, and the sounds meeting his ear, were the THE VVITflERED LEAF. 503 eights and sounds of a delusive dream ! Thus eagerly, thus gratefully, is the par- don received which restores the criminal to a suffering, sorrowful, and short exist- ence in this world. With how much greater eagerness and gratitude ought that pardon to be accepted, which re- stores us to life eternal ! Yet, to how many has this pardon been offered in vain! By how many is the salvation of the gos- pel— a salvation provided by the love of God, purchased by the blood of Christ, and applied by the love of the Spirit — a salvation which redeems us from the pains, the pollutions, and the punish- ments of hell, which exalts us to the dig- nities and the glories of heaven ; by how many is this salvation neglected and de- spised ; hitherto has it been neglected ; hitherto has it been refused by you. Yet it may be accepted ; for yet it is offered. You are guilty, and you may be willing to remain guilty ; you are depraved, and you are willing to remain depraved ; you are lost, and lost you are willing to re- main. Yet, however, God is not willing ; yet he has not ratified your choice ; yet the most guilty may be pardoned ; the most depraved may be renewed ; the most lost may be saved. Tliis salvation aro you willing now to accept — this salva- tion as a whole, and for Christ's sake] You now must either accept it, or reject it ; not to accept it, know this, is to reject it. The consequences of this rejection are you willing or prepared to abide ? It is a common saying, that <' it will he all one a hundred years hence." Ay, ay, it will be all one as to the honours and the distinctions of time ; it will be all one as to its glimmer and glory ; all one whether you have been rich, or whether you have been poor; a// 07!e whether you have been a wandering beggar, or a crowned king; but when a thousand years have come and gone, will it be all one whether that thousand years has been spent amid the sanctities and the glories of heaven, or amid the pollutions and the pains of hell ? Oh, no, that will not be all one. As it will not be all one then, neither is it all one now; for, according to your " sow- ing" here, will be, and must be, your " reaping" hereafter. THE BND. ..^B(K^*fjByi^^*°^- ■M0' Ia. %' ^4;, im^ ^li